This sparkling mystery novel reveals a sensational new discovery in the field of scientific criminal investigation...It all began with an auction. If Perry Mason hadn't made a casual, five-dollar bid he wouldn't have bought the personal effects of Helen Cadmus, missing secretary presumed a suicide...If the personal effects hadn't turned out to be diaries and a photograph album, Benjamin Addicks wouldn't have come into the picture...If Benjamin Addicks hadn't been an eccentric millionaire, he wouldn't have been conducting psychological experiments on gorillas...And that brings us to the most spine-chilling scene ever encountered in a Gardner mystery: Perry Mason creeping through a silent house, stalked by A MURDEROUS, GRINNING GORILLA!
Some fifty years ago Dr. R. B. H. Gradwohl, WHO had completed a thorough training in the best schools of Germany in the subjects of legal medicine and pathology, came to St. Louis and became a coroner’s autopsy physician.
At that time the field of legal medicine, particularly in this country, was in its infancy. The coroner system was more impregnated with politics than efficiency, and Dr. Gradwohl, surveying the enormous responsibilities of his office, recognized all too keenly the necessity for inaugurating a program of long-term improvements and arousing greater interest in the field of legal medicine.
As Dr. Gradwohl recently said to a friend, “I found myself in an almost impenetrable forest. It has been my life’s work to fight my way through that forest into the daylight of greater professional efficiency in the whole field of medicolegal investigation.”
One of Dr. Gradwohl’s crowning achievements was his work to help bring about the foundation of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences, which has recently attracted widespread attention.
Almost thirty years ago he started a laboratory in the St. Louis Police Department, and after many difficulties has brought it up to the very highest level. In fact, the work of this laboratory ranks with the best anywhere in the country. It consistently evaluates clues by the use of techniques which unfortunately are available to only a few of the best organized police laboratories in the country.
Dr. Gradwohl is not a young man, but he certainly is a vigorous man. There is an impressive dynamic quality about him. Not only is he possessed of the highest professional qualifications, but if he thinks a man is guilty he shows the persistency of a bloodhound in tracking down the scientific facts which will demonstrate that guilt.
On the other hand, in several instances where his opinion has differed with that of the prosecutor, he has shown himself equally vigorous in protecting the rights of a man whom he felt was falsely accused of crime.
I mention these matters generally because readers will find the name of Dr. Gradwohl mentioned in this book, and I want them to know that he is not a fictional character, nor is the startling work that has been attributed to him along the lines of the particular point mentioned in this book fictitious.
Some months ago Dr. Gradwohl confided to me that he was engaged in research work which might have far reaching repercussions in the legal field. I have been in close touch with him while he has been pursuing his experiments, and I now have in my possession photographic reproductions of tests establishing theories which are destined to have an important effect on medical testimony, particularly in cases of homicide.
Dr. Gradwohl searches out the truth. His primary concern is to establish truth both in and out of court. He seeks to establish that truth by scientific proof rather than inference, surmise, or conjecture. Essentially he is a scientist.
At times he is a blunt man. When it is a question of pursuing truth, he doesn’t bother to be diplomatic. If it’s black, it’s black. If it’s white, it’s white.
When Dr. Gradwohl communicated the results of his most recent experiments to a member of the St. Louis police force, the police official digested the information in wide-eyed wonder, and then said, “But, Doctor, isn’t this apt to raise hell with your evidence?”
Dr. Gradwohl looked him straight in the eye and said, “It isn’t going to affect
I know of no anecdote which is more typical of the man, or which could do more to give my readers a thumbnail sketch of the individual whose name is mentioned in the pages of this book.
And so I dedicate this book to my friend:
R. B. H. GRADWOHL, M.D.
Erle Stanley Gardner.
At 9:55 on a Monday morning, Perry Mason, carrying a brown paper package in his hand, scaled his hat in the general direction of the bust of Blackstone which adorned the top of a low sectional bookcase behind his desk.
The hat made two lazy twists, then settled incongruously at a rakish angle on the marble brow of the great jurist.
Della Street, Mason’s confidential secretary, who had been at the desk opening mail, applauded.
“Getting to be good,” Mason admitted with boyish pride.
“Blackstone,” Della observed, “is probably turning over in his grave.”
Mason grinned. “He’s accustomed to it by this time. For the last fifty years lawyers have been scaling their hats at Blackstone’s noble brow. It marks a period of transition, Della.”
“What does?”
“The hat-scaling.”
“I don’t get it.”
“A couple of generations ago,” Mason told her, “lawyers were stuffy people. They thrust a hand inside their coats while they declaimed oratorically. Busts of Blackstone adorned their offices.
