Drake said, “I have a complete report on that, Perry. Trent closes his office at noon on Saturday, but there are lots of offices in that same building which stay open all Saturday afternoon, so they keep regular elevator service running until six-thirty Saturday night. After six-thirty, the elevators all shut down except the one operated by the janitor. The janitor has an In-and-Out Book that people have to sign when they ride in the elevator. Now, that In-and-Out Book shows that Virginia Trent went up to the office Saturday evening about eight o’clock and stayed until about nine-ten. Sarah Breel went to the office Sunday morning at ten-thirty, and stayed until twelve-five. That’s all. It doesn’t show Trent himself either in or out. That means Trent must have gone out some time Saturday afternoon, started to get drunk, and then returned to the office before six-thirty. Up until six-thirty, he could ride up and down in the elevators without anyone paying any attention to him.
“The janitor went into Trent’s office at seven-thirty to clean up. He was there half an hour. No one else was there. He saw Virginia Trent leaving the elevator just as he was leaving the office — so he left the door open for her. She was alone. Now then, here’s something else, Perry. One of the newspaper boys tells me the autopsy surgeon has checked up on the time of death pretty accurately. They’ve found out where Trent had lunch Saturday, and when. Their best guess is that he was killed about four-thirty o’clock Saturday afternoon, very probably not later than five. The police don’t like that, but those are the facts just the same.”
Mason said, “Thanks,” hung up and walked back to the dining room.
“Well, Sergeant,” he said, “let’s get down to brass tacks. If you want to put a charge against Miss Trent, go right ahead.”
“I’m not putting any charge against her,” Holcomb said. “I’m trying to get facts.”
Mason said, “In other words, George Trent was killed not later than five o’clock Saturday afternoon. Miss Trent had that gun in her possession Saturday afternoon, and she had a good alibi.”
Sergeant Holcomb leaned toward Perry Mason. “Mason,” he said, “you and I have been on the opposite sides of a few cases Let’s not let it keep us from talking sense on this case. I don’t know what we’re going to find out. But I do know that it’s a physical impossibility for Virginia Trent to have had that gun with her Saturday afternoon. She’s mistaken about it, that’s all, and if she persists in that mistake, it’s going to keep us from getting a conviction when we arrest Trent’s murderer. Now, I want this young woman to cooperate, that’s all.”
Mason grinned at Virginia Trent and said, “Go ahead and cooperate.”
“But I don’t see what you’re getting at,” she said, “I...”
“Sergeant Holcomb perhaps didn’t know as much when he was questioning you last night as he does now,” Mason told her. “If he did, he was holding out. Your uncle was killed before seven-thirty.”