John Lucas snapped his mouth shut with grim determination. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he said. He whirled to a deputy sheriff. "Get out there and find if there are buzzers on those other apartments," he said, in a voice that was distinctly audible to the jury.

Judge Markham banged his gavel. "Counselor," he said, "as long as you are in court before this jury, you will confine your remarks to questions of the witness and comments to the Court."

Lucas was quivering with rage. He bowed his head in silent assent to the Court's admonition, turned to Perry Mason and, for a moment, could not trust his voice, then he said, after an abortive motion of his lips, "Crossexamine."

Perry Mason waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Why," he said, "I've no questions. In fact, I find myself very much at a loss as to how to proceed because I had intended to make some tests with the doorbell. It now appears that this doorbell wasn't the one that was in the apartment when Moxley was killed."

John Lucas whirled to face the witness. "That's all," he said. "You're excused, Mr. Otis. I will call, if the Court please, as my next witness…"

"You forget," interrupted Perry Mason, "that Mrs. Crandall was on the stand for crossexamination. I had just started my crossexamination of her when she was withdrawn, in order to permit you to call Sidney Otis as your witness."

"Very well," said Judge Markham, "you may proceed with the crossexamination of Mrs. Crandall. Take the stand, Mrs. Crandall." Ellen Crandall again took the witness stand, looking very much bewildered.

"Directing your attention to the bell that you heard during the time when the sounds of struggle were coming from the apartment where the murder was committed," said Perry Mason, "are you prepared to state positively that that was not a telephone bell that you heard?"

"I don't think it was," said Mrs. Crandall.

"What are your reasons for saying that?"

"Because it didn't ring like a telephone bell. A telephone bell rings a short ring, then there's a minute of silence and then another ring. It's a mechanical ringing, and it's a higherpitched bell. This was more of a whirring sound."

"Now, then," said Perry Mason, "I don't want to trick you, Mrs. Crandall, and if it should appear that there wasn't any doorbell in that apartment, but that there was a buzzer, then it must, of course, be true that it couldn't have been the doorbell which you heard."

John Lucas got to his feet. "Objected to," he said, "as argumentative."

"The question may be argumentative," said Judge Markham, "but I am going to permit it. This is manifestly a fair method of crossexamination, even if the phraseology of the question may make it objectionable. The objection is overruled."

"I thought it was a doorbell," said Mrs. Crandall.

"Now, then," said Perry Mason, "I am going to direct your attention to the photograph, People's Exhibit B, and show you that there is an alarm clock in that photograph. Isn't it possible, Mrs. Crandall, that the bell which you heard on the night of the murder, at the same time you heard the sounds of a struggle and conflict, was the bell on the alarm clock?"

Mrs. Crandall's face lit up. "Why, yes," she said, "it might have been. Come to think of it, perhaps it was. It must have been."

Perry Mason addressed the Court. "Now, your Honor," he said, "I desire to crossexamine this witness by letting her hear the identical bell on this alarm clock. She has had her recollection tested by hearing the ringing of a doorbell in the apartment occupied by the victim of the homicide on the night of the killing. It now appears that that doorbell was not in the apartment at the time. It further appears, from the prosecution's own testimony, that the alarm clock was. I therefore insist that the prosecution shall produce this alarm clock here and now."

Judge Markham looked down at John Lucas. "Any objections?" he asked.

"You bet there's objection!" shouted John Lucas, getting to his feet. "We'll put on our case in any way we see fit. We're not going to be browbeaten or tricked…"

Judge Markham's gavel banged repeatedly. "Counselor," he said, "sit down. Your comments are improper as argument or as statement. A request has been made that the prosecution produce an article which was taken from the room where the homicide was committed. This article is admittedly in the custody of the prosecution. In view of the testimony that has been introduced on the direct examination of this witness concerning the ringing of a bell in the apartment, I believe that it is within the legitimate bounds of crossexamination to ask this witness concerning any bell which was in the apartment, and to let her listen to it for the purpose of ascertaining whether it is the bell in question or not. I direct, therefore, that the alarm clock be brought into court."

John Lucas sat rigid. "You have the alarm clock in your possession?" asked Judge Markham.

"The sheriff has it," said John Lucas, speaking with an effort. "And, your Honor," the enraged prosecutor said, jumping to his feet, indignation giving him sudden loquacity, "you can see the manner in which this whole thing has been manipulated. We were trapped into breaking into the crossexamining of Mrs. Crandall, in order to be confronted with the surprise which counsel on the other side apparently anticipated. Now, with the witness confused by this spectacular development which I have had no chance to thoroughly investigate, she is rushed along in her crossexamination without the opportunity of conferring with counsel for the prosecution…"

Judge Markham's voice was stern as he said, "Counselor, your remarks are improper and are out of order. You will be seated." Judge Markham turned toward the jury with the admonition, "The jury is instructed to disregard the remarks of counsel," then, turning to the bailiff, "bring that alarm clock into court."

The bailiff stepped from the courtroom. There was a moment of silence, then the hissing sibilants of excited whispers, the sounds of rustling garments as people squirmed in an ecstasy of excitement. From the back of the courtroom came a sharp, hysterical giggle.

Judge Markham's gavel commanded silence.

There followed a period during which comparative silence was restored, but occasional whispers crept into the tense atmosphere, vague, indefinite sounds, impossible to locate, yet surreptitiously adding to the emotional tension.

The deputy sheriff brought an alarm clock into court. Perry Mason looked at the alarm clock, turned it over in his hands. "There's a label pasted on this clock, if the Court please," he said, "stating that it is the same clock which was taken from the apartment of Gregory Moxley on the morning of June sixteenth of this year."

Judge Markham nodded.

"I take it," said Perry Mason, "that I may use this in my crossexamination of the witness?"

"In view of the fact that it was produced by the prosecution, in response to an order of this Court directing the prosecution to place in your hands the identical alarm clock which was taken from that room," said Judge Markham, "you may use it. If the deputy district attorney has any objection he will make it now." John Lucas sat very straight and very erect at the table assigned to counsel for the prosecution. He made no sound, no motion. "Proceed," said Judge Markham.

Perry Mason, the alarm clock in his hands, approached the witness stand. "You will observe," he said, handing the alarm clock to Mrs. Crandall, "that the alarm is set for two o'clock. You will further notice that the clock has now stopped. It has, apparently, run down. I will also call to the attention of the Court and counsel that the alarm seems to be run down."

"It would," said John Lucas sarcastically, "naturally have run down. No one would have heard it ring in the sheriff's office at two o'clock in the morning."