“There was a red smear on the upper part of the forehead, apparently caused by lips that had been heavily coated with lipstick and then pressed against the skin in a somewhat puckered condition. It was as though some woman had administered a last kiss.”

“Cross-examine,” Linn announced.

“No questions,” Mason said.

“Call Benjamin Harlan,” Linn said.

Benjamin Harlan, a huge, lumbering giant of a man, promptly proceeded to qualify himself as a fingerprint and identification expert of some twenty years’ experience.

Stewart Linn, by skillful, adroit questions, led him through an account of his activities on the date in question. Harlan found no latent fingerprints on the glass which the Prosecution referred to as the “murder glass,” indicating this glass had been wiped clean of prints, but there were prints on the glass on the table which the Prosecution referred to as the “decoy glass,” on the toothbrush, on the tube of tooth paste, and on various other articles. These latent fingerprints had coincided with the fingerprints taken from the hands of Fay Allison, the defendant.

Harlan also identified a whole series of photographs taken by the police showing the position of the body when it was discovered, the furnishings in the apartment, the table, the overturned chair, the so-called murder glass, which had rolled along the floor, the so-called decoy glass on the table, which bore unmistakably the fresh fingerprints of Fay Allison, the bottle of whiskey, the bottle of soda water, the jar containing ice cubes.

“Cross-examine,” Linn said triumphantly.

Mason said, “You have had some twenty years’ experience as a fingerprint expert, Mr. Harlan?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, you have heard Dr. Keene’s testimony about the lipstick on the forehead of the dead man?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that lipstick, I believe, shows in this photograph which I now hand you?”

“Yes, sir; not only that, but I have a close-up of that lipstick stain which I, myself, took. I have an enlargement of that negative, in case you’re interested.”

“I’m very much interested,” Mason said. “Will you produce the enlargement, please?”

Harlan produced the photograph from his brief-case, showing a section of the forehead of the dead man, with the stain of lips outlined clearly and in microscopic detail.

“What is the scale of this photograph?” Mason asked.

“Life size,” Harlan said. “I have a standard of distances by which I can take photographs to a scale of exactly life size.”

“Thank you,” Mason said. “I’d like to have this photograph received in evidence”

“No objection,” Linn said.

“And it is, is it not, a matter of fact that the little lines shown in this photograph are fully as distinctive as the ridges and whorls of a fingerprint?”

“Just what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it a fact well known to identification experts that the little wrinkles which form in a person’s lips are fully as individual as the lines of a fingerprint?”

“It’s not a ‘well-known’ fact.”

“But it is a fact?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”