“I thought Hogan said you did.”
“Well, he didn’t,” Sergeant Holcomb said, sliding over to the extreme edge of the witness chair, in order to emphasize his remarks, “and,” he went on, his face flushed to a brick red, “any insinuation to that effect is a deliberate falsehood. Your...”
Sampson jumped to his feet to interrupt hastily, “That’s enough, Sergeant, I understand how you feel, but please remember your function here is only that of a witness. Any resentment you may feel for what you consider tactics of obstruction or confusion used by counsel, is to be kept out of the case. You will please be respectful in your answers to Mr. Mason’s questions.”
Judge Barnes said, impressively, “The witness is a police officer. He is undoubtedly familiar with courtroom procedure. He will answer questions, and refrain from any comments or recriminations.”
Sergeant Holcomb’s hands were clenched into fists, his eyes glittered dangerously, and his complexion was that of a man who has been holding his breath for several seconds.
“Proceed, Mr. Mason,” Judge Barnes said.
Mason inquired casually, “You handed Mr. Hogan the Trent bullet, and asked him to compare that bullet with the test bullet fired from the Breel revolver, didn’t you, Sergeant?”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Sergeant Holcomb said.
“Just what did you do, Sergeant?”
“I took the Trent bullet from my pocket and handed that to Hogan, and told him to compare it. I didn’t say with which gun. Hogan compared it with the test bullet from the Breel gun first. Naturally, the bullets didn’t match. He told me so, and I said, ‘Of course, they don’t. That isn’t the Cullens bullet, that’s the Trent bullet.’ So then he compared the Trent bullet with the test bullet from the Trent gun, and they matched. Then I handed Hogan the Cullens bullet, and he compared that with the test bullet from the Breel gun, and they matched. Now, those are the facts of the case, and you can’t mix me up on ‘em, Perry Mason! ”