“You may cross-examine,” Scudder said.
Mason got slowly to his feet. “How was Mrs. Moar, the defendant in this case, dressed?” he asked.
“Just as I told you,” Aileen Fell snapped back at him, with the quick enunciation of one who fancies herself rather good at repartee and is determined not to be worsted in a verbal exchange. “In a dark, backless formal gown.”
“It was the night of the captain’s dinner on shipboard?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“And how were you dressed?”
“In my raincoat, just as I’ve told you. Standing in the shadow, as I was, it was virtually impossible to see me...”
“I’m not asking you now about your raincoat,” Mason said. “I want to know what you had on underneath your raincoat.”
“What I... What I had on underneath my raincoat?”
“Exactly,” Mason said.