There were the usual preliminaries, name, age, residence, and so on,
Coroner Goldberg asking the questions. He was a really good
cross-examiner, and soon came to the core of the matter.
"What is the position of your desk in Mr. Holladay's office?" he
asked.
"There is an outer office for the clerks; opening from that, a smaller
room where my desk is placed. Opening from my room was Mr. Holladay's
private office.
"Had Mr. Holladay's office any other door?"
"No, sir."
"Could entrance be had by the windows?"
"The windows open on the street side of the building. We occupy a part
of the eighth floor."
"The fire-escapes----"
"Are at the back of the building--there are none on the street
side--nothing but a sheer wall."
"So that anyone entering or leaving the private office must
necessarily pass by your desk?"
"Necessarily; yes, sir."
"Could anyone pass without your seeing him?"
"No, sir; that would be quite impossible."
The coroner leaned back in his chair. There was one point settled.
"Now, Mr. Rogers," he said, "will you kindly tell us, in your own way
and with as much detail as possible, exactly what happened at your
office shortly before five o'clock yesterday afternoon?"
I could see that Rogers was deeply moved. His face was very white, he
moistened his lips nervously from time to time, and his hands grasped
convulsively the arms of his chair.
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