Again a titter swept the room.
“That’s all,” Mason said.
Scanlon nodded to Weyman. “You’re excused, Mr. Weyman,” he said.
Rodney Cuff got to his feet and said, “I wish to point out that in view of the testimony of this witness, and the fact that we can show definitely the automobile accident took place almost exactly at the hour of noon, it was impossible for Jimmy Driscoll to have killed Walter Prescott.
“I think you can see what this means,” Cuff went on, staring steadily at the deputy district attorney. “It means that sometime after Rosalind Prescott and my client had gone to Reno, and while Rita Swaine was in the house, Walter Prescott arrived. I won’t presume to conjecture what happened, but Rita Swaine killed him. From what my client tells me of Rita Swaine, I presume that the provocation was great. Perhaps it was self-defense, or—”
“If Counsel is going to make an argument,” Perry Mason said casually, “I want to make one.”
“He isn’t going to make one,” Scanlon ruled. “Sit down, Mr. Cuff.”
“I merely wanted to point out that—”
“You’ve already pointed out plenty. Sit down.”
Oscar Overmeyer frowned thoughtfully, looked up at the coroner and said, “I had intended to prove by the canary itself that it probably wasn’t Rita Swaine whom Mrs. Anderson had seen in the solarium. The admission of the witness Driscoll makes this unnecessary.”