All language subtitles for Ellery Queen s01e06 12th Floor Express.eng

In a few minutes,
this newspaper publisher

will become an obituary notice.

Who killed him?

Was it his sister?

"The Examiner" belongs to me now.

The editor-in-chief?

You measure a newspaperman
by the enemies he's made.

The attorney?

There was no love lost
between Harriet and her brother.

The well-connected reporter?

The publisher is dead.
Long live the publisher.

The muckraking columnist?

He's trying to bluff me
into printing a retraction.

Or was it someone else?

Match wits with Ellery Queen

and see if you can guess
who done it.

- Morning, Mr. Manners.
- Ah, good morning, Fred.

Say, what did I hear yesterday
about a wedding, your daughter?

Oh, yes, sir, Mary Ellen.
But it won't be for awhile yet, sir.

The boy has a stretch
in the service ahead of him yet.

Well, you just let me know when.
I'll be there.

If I'm invited.

Oh, absolutely, sir.

- Have a good day, Fred.
- You, too, sir.

Private elevator, sir.
Try the next one.

[Buzzing]

"Daily Examiner," 12th floor.

He's on his way up.

Mm. Thanks, Fred.

Of course I'm sure he got on, Sally.
I pushed the button myself.

Well, maybe he got off somewhere.

- Good morning, Fred.
- Hiya, Mr. McCully.

- Old man arrive yet?
- Just went up, sir.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome, sir.

I told you, Raymond, I have to get up
early, and I need my beauty rest.

Come on, Dorothy.

Look, I'll sport you to a dinner,
and then we'll take in a show.

There's a swell
Gable picture playing.

Oh, Raymond,
you're so persistent.

[Evevator doors opening]

Raymond?

Holy cow!

It's Mr. Manners.

I think he's dead!

Get it?

A little harder.

Always closed before.

Hold it, Maestro.

Don't you think it'd be better
if the shirt was in the bag?

Right, okay, I got it.
Watch your fingers... or mine.

Ohh! Okay?

Thank you, Velie.

I don't know what I would have done
without your help.

That's okay, Maestro.
Now, you're sure you got everything?

Positive.

All that stuff for just three days
in a cabin?

Well, 30 pages,
10 pages a day, yeah.

Wh-What's wrong?

I'm missing something.

No, h-hold it, Maestro, no.
Everything's in there, it's got to be.

I have to get the key to the cabin.

If we get it open,
we'll never get it closed again.

Well, what about the key?

You wouldn't put the key
in a suitcase.

Well...

Well, then,
I must have put it somewhere.

[Phone rining]

You know I've never lost a key,
I hardly ever lose a key?

Hello?

Son?
I thought you might have left.

No, Dad, I'm still here.

Well, I gathered that.
Is Velie there with you now?

Ellery?

Hello, Dad.

Have we got a bad connection
or something?

Dad, do you have the key?

What key?

Now, Ellery,
listen to me very carefully.

Stop whatever you're doing.

Sit down in a chair.
Look straight ahead.

Are you doing that?

Huh?
Oh, yeah, of course I am.

I'm... sitting right here
in the chair.

I need you and Velie down here
at "The Daily Examiner."

I thought you didn't like
"The Examiner."

Henry Manners, the publisher,
has just been shot to death.

Now, if you've got a few minutes
before you take off...

What?

...you might come down and poke
around a little.

Oh, no, no way, Dad.
No way.

I'm going off for a few days
for a little peace and quiet.

Now, what about the key?

You can pick it up
when you drop Velie off.

All right, Dad,
see you in a few minutes.

Inspector, we have good,
readable prints on all the buttons

with the exception of the button
to the 12th floor.

I've looked at the prints...

Oh, there you are.

Here's Velie, Dad.
Now, may I have the key?

I want to get to Wrightsville
before lunch.

Just a minute.

Velie, I want to fill you in
on what happened.

Now, as near as we can figure out,

Manners got on the elevator
on the ground floor.

The starter pressed
the 12th-floor button,

but when the elevator got
to the 12th floor, it was empty.

Then the elevator went down
to the 6th floor,

and inside was Manners, dead.

Then the elevator went up
to the 5th floor...

Dad.

Oh, I want a preliminary report
from the medical examiner.

Grab a ladder, Velie.

Get in that elevator.

I want to find out if the killer
came down through the ceiling.

Yes, sir.

Dad, did you say the elevator
was empty on the 12th floor?

- Yeah, that's right.
- That's interesting.

What does that mean?

What does what mean?

"Interesting",
what does that mean?

Oh, nothing, just... interesting.

Anyway, the elevator continued
down here to the 5th floor,

where it remained.

Did anybody see the elevator stop
on the way up?

The receptionists on all the floors
were at their desks.

They get here at 7:30.

None of them saw Manners get off
the elevator or anyone else get on.

Inspector,

I'm all for catching Henry's killer,
but I've got a paper to get out.

Mr. Johns, my son, Ellery.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

This is Mr. Thornton Johns,

managing editor
of "The Daily Examiner."

It's a full-time job,
and I can't spend all day here.

Well, calm down.
Calm down, Mr. Johns.

All we want is your version
of what happened.

I have no version.

As I told you, I was in the dispatch
room when I heard the news.

When I came here,
I saw that he was dead.

That's when I called the police.

Excuse me, Mr. Johns.
Do you always arrive early?

Yes, around 7:30,
sometimes earlier.

There's a lot of work
to get out a paper.

Did Manners have any enemies?

Inspector,
you measure a newspaperman

by the enemies he's made.

Henry Manners was one hell
of a newspaperman.

You can't come in here.
This is off limits.

- Working press, Buster.
- You're gonna have to go downstairs.

Says who?
Look, get that elevator.

Hi, Inspector.
I want a lot of pictures.

Lie down on the floor and shoot
straight up to the ceiling,

you know, the last thing
Manners saw before he died.

- Hey, you, Flannigan...
- Any leads, Inspector?

What are you doing up here?

Hey, Junior, they got you
on this case, too?

Well, I don't know yet.

Flannigan, you belong downstairs
with the rest of the press.

The "Gazette" doesn't have
any special privileges.

Well, from what I heard, you're gonna
need all the help you can get.

How about it, Thornton?
Did you kill him?

Do I have to stand here and listen
to this overrated fool?

No, you can leave.

- Thank you.
- Overrated, huh?

Then how come Flannigan's column's
in 200 papers from coast to coast?

Now, listen, Flannigan...

No, no, no, no!

I said to lie down on your back
and shoot up at the ceiling!

Hey, you!

Inspector, what do you want me
to do with this guy?

Get him out of here!
That goes for you, too.

I'm just trying to serve the people,
Inspector.

There will be
a press conference later.

You can serve the people then.

Yeah, if you need any help,
give me a call!

How about it, son?
Want your key now?

Huh? What key?

You find anything?

No sign anyone came in
from the top.

You know this is one of those
self-service elevators?

Yeah, for Manners' private use only.

Hey, what are you doing, Maestro?

Just checking it out.
Why? Don't you like elevators?

Not this one.

Hey, where you going
with that ladder?

- Police.
- Oh, okay.

- I'm gonna look around, Maestro.
- Okay, Velie.

You with him?

Yes, I am.
Are you the elevator starter?

Fred Durnhoffer.

Been here 20 years,
next month.

It's a shame about the old guy,
a real salt-of-the-earth man.

Yeah.

I understand Henry Manners got here
every morning at the same time.

You could set your watch by him,
through those doors at 7:59.

7:59 and a half, it was,
"Good morning, good morning."

We'd chat a little.

He'd say, "Have a good day."
I'd say, "The same to you, sir."

I push the button for number 12,
and off he'd go.

- You push the button?
- I always do.

Mr. Durnhoffer, is it possible

that the elevator could have been
stopped partway up?

Well, here's the control box.

I guess it is possible somebody
could have stopped the elevator,

but why, what for?

Well, I'm just exploring
the possibilities, Mr. Durnhoffer.

What possibilities?

Even if somebody
does stop the elevator

halfway up for a few seconds,

how does he get into the cab
and kill Mr. Manners?

If you ask me,
this whole thing is screwy.

Ah. Well, thank you.

Excuse me, Mr. Durnhoffer.

Where was Mr. Manners standing?
Back here?

Right.

I wonder if you could
push the button for me

just the way you did
for Mr. Manners.

Sure.

See you, I hope.

I just can't believe
that my brother's dead, Inspector.

Miss Manners, I'm sorry
you had to learn about it this way.

We called you at home.
There was no answer.

I was on my way up here to see him
and got caught in traffic.

- Excuse me, Dad.
- Oh, Ellery...

...this is Miss Harriet Manners,
the victim's sister. My son, Ellery.

How do you do?

I was just saying to your father

that I find it so hard to believe
that Henry's gone.

Well, Henry Manners
was "The Examiner."

Yes, indeed.

But life goes on,
doesn't it, Inspector?

- [Phone ringing]
- Excuse me.

Yes?

Oh, yes, Thornton.

No, no, I don't think so.

Look, Thornton, I want you to kill
everything on page 1.

I want a right-column story
on my brother's death.

Put the head in 60 point.

Then I want a two-column,
photo center, black border.

What?

Just listen to me, Thornton.

I want you to call Governor Dewey,
call the mayor,

maybe even call the White House.
I want some good quotes.

And listen, Thornton,
this is gonna be an extra.

Get it out in the streets by noon.

I'm the last surviving member
of my family, Inspector.

"The Examiner" belongs to me now,
and I intend to run it.

[Door knocking]

Come in.

Good morning.

Good morning, Thornton.

I see you're in early.

Well, there's a lot of work
to be done.

And a lot of people to do it.

Want some coffee?

I didn't come here for coffee.

All right, Thornton, let's have it.

Harriet, I've known you
for a number of years,

and I think I know what goes on
in that pretty head of yours.

If you've come here
to patronize me...

No, not at all.
And don't you patronize me.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

Who the hell did you think you were
talking to on the telephone yesterday?

A copy boy?

Well, I'm sorry if I offended you,

but I thought we ought to get
our relative positions straight

right from the start.

I'll tell you our relative positions.

You publish, and I edit.
And I won't have any interference.

Thornton, I...

I know what you mean
to "The Examiner,"

and I know what
she means to you.

I don't want to shut you out.

But I'm part of this business now,

and you're gonna have to learn
to live with that.

He didn't come in through the ceiling.
He didn't come up through the floor.

So, how did he do it?

Maybe he came up the stairs.

All right,
the killer came up the stairs,

but where did he kill Manners,

and how did he get
the body back on the elevator?

Maybe Manners shot himself.

Maybe Manners shot himself.

So, what did he do with the gun?

Suppose the starter shot him
when he was going up.

What about the witnesses who saw
Manners board the elevator alive?

Anything on ballistics?

Yeah, he was...

he was shot by a.32 at close range,
probably 4, 5 feet away.

That means the killer could
have been inside the elevator

or just outside.

Anything in those personal files, son?

Hmm?
No, no, nothing yet.

But I'd like to see
the fingerprint results

and also the plans
for the rest of that building.

Well, here's the print report.
Velie?

On my way, sir.

Well, Manners' fresh fingerprints were
on the 5th- and 6th-floor buttons.

And the 12th-floor button
was smudged,

probably by the starter
when he sent the elevator up.

Or the killer's.

Now, one thing's for sure,

Manners was interested
in seeing that that elevator

got to the 5th and 6th floors.

I'd just like to know if he pushed
the button before

or after he was shot.

- Good morning, Inspector.
- Oh, no.

What are you doing here,
Flannigan?

I thought you might be interested

in Flannigan's lead story
in the "Gazette."

It should be on the street
in 10 minutes.

Well, I'm not interested
in anything you write.

And if I were, I'm perfectly capable
of reading it myself.

Now, get out of here!

Okay, Inspector.
Never say that Flannigan didn't offer.

It's just a story that's gonna break
this case wide open.

- But if you're not interested...
- Flannigan!

Yes, Inspector?

Read the story.

Happy to. Junior?

Mm.

"Publisher Shot
While Secretary Spoons".

"The police are still
having their ups and downs

over the bizarre elevator murder
of news mogul Henry Manners.

While New York's finest
remain totally baffled,

this reporter has uncovered
information

that tosses most of their feathery
theories into a cocked fedora.

Judy Adams,

4th-floor receptionist,
was not at her desk, as she claimed,

but was involved
in a lovers' rendezvous

at the very moment that
Henry Manners was 'ele-victimized.'

Memo to Inspector Richard Queen...

"It's not the boys in blue,

but the working press
that are out there

doing the job."

That's enough, Flannigan.
Come on.

Don't you want to hear
the rest of it?

- Where we going?
- Down to the "Examiner" office.

I want to talk to Miss Julia
What's-her-name.

That's Judy Adams, 4th floor!

Now, Judy, as attorney
for "The Examiner,"

it's my responsibility
to protect its interests,

particularly in something
as serious as murder.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Now, I want you to tell me
why you lied to the police.

That's exactly what I want to know.

Excuse me, Mr. Klinger.

This is Inspector Queen
and his son, Ellery.

The Inspector's looking for Judy.

Mr. Queen, Inspector,

I was just about to ask Miss Adams
about this story in the "Gazette."

Young lady, it's a serious business,
lying to the police.

Why did you say
you were at your desk?

Why didn't you tell us
you were with your boyfriend?

I know I did wrong, sir,
and I feel terrible about it.

I shouldn't have lied,
but I was afraid I'd get in trouble.

And now I've just made
things worse.

All I wanted was for Walter
and me to be happy.

Walter? Who's Walter?

He's my boyfriend.
He works here.

He's just a copy boy now,

but someday he's gonna be
a great reporter like Mr. Flannigan.

Walter admires him so much.

That's why he talked
to him last evening.

I never dreamed he'd print it.

I mean about Walter and me.

Ohh.

Go on, Judy.

Well, anyway, Walter and I
were going to get married.

We've been going together
for about three years now,

just waiting for Walter
to make enough money.

After all, $22.50 a week
doesn't go very far these days.

But yesterday
Walter threw caution to the winds.

He took me by the hand,

and he walked me down
to the fire escape and proposed.

It was so romantic.

Judy, how long were you away
from your desk?

It couldn't have been
more than 10 minutes.

Yeah.

What do you think?

I think she's sacred to death.

- Hiding something?
- I don't know.

Dad, can't we question
her another time?

We can always bring her back.
Let her go, huh?

All right, young lady,
you can leave,

but the next time
a policeman asks you a question,

you tell him the truth.

Yes, sir.

Well, at least we know
how the killer got to Manners,

he was waiting for him
on the 4th floor.

No, I don't think so.

Why not?

Unless Walter or Judy
was in on the killing,

the murderer would have
no way of knowing

at what particular time Judy was
gonna be away from her desk.

And how could he be certain which
floor the elevator was passing?

I see what you mean.

Which leaves us exactly
where we started.

[Buzzing]

Oh, excuse me.

Oh, yes, I'll take that.

Sam, what did you hear?

$2 million?
That man's got to be crazy.

That's not a settlement.

Of course we'll fight it.

And you can tell Nelson Greene
if he thinks he's gonna win this suit,

he's got another thing coming.

If McCully says he is a Communist,
then he is a Communist.

Of course he can prove it.

Look, Sam, I have some people here.
I'll get back to you later.

Excuse me.
I couldn't help but overhear.

Did you mention Nelson Greene,
the financier?

That's a legal matter.

That's has nothing to do
with Henry's death.

Since murder's involved, anything that
concerns this paper concerns me,

especially a $2-million suit.

Well, I'm just not at liberty
to discuss it.

Well... who is?

As long as I'm editor of this paper
and making assignments,

you'll write what you're told
to write.

Well, I do not intend to be buried
among the obituaries

for the rest of my life.

You will until you're capable
of writing something better.

Don't count on it.

Things may start to change around
here a lot sooner than you expect.

Just what does that mean?

It means that Harriet Manners
is in charge here now.

I don't care how much stock
your grandmother has in this paper

or how close she is
to Harriet Manners.

You have just two choices.

You either write the obituaries
as they're supposed to be written,

or clean out your desk.

Mr. Johns?

We'll continue this later.

- Lf you're busy, I can come back...
- No, no, no, no, that's all right.

Just another of those
no-talent college graduates

who thinks everything he writes
should be chiseled in stone.

What's on your mind?

I understand your paper's
involved in a lawsuit.

Lawsuit? Which one?

You know, this is a big-city
newspaper, Mr. Queen.

Yeah, well, I'm...
I'm referring to Nelson Greene.

Oh, Mitch McCully's
newest punching bag.

That's the trouble with McCully.
He's harmless-Iooking enough,

nice guy, like your friendly
next-door neighbor,

except when it comes to Commies,
pinkos, and fellow travelers.

Meaning Nelson Greene.

Well, if Greene's a Commie, then so
are half the brokers on Wall Street.

- Well, you let him run the story.
- No, no, no.

Henry Manners let him
run the story.

I warned Henry not to let McCully
run wild, even if he could prove it,

which he probably can't.

But you're the editor.
I don't...

Like every other employee
at "The Examiner,"

I serve at the pleasure
of the publisher.

Just let us say that Henry...

was more pleased with McCully
than he was with me.

Hmm. You don't like McCully
very much, do you?

Oh...

I don't know.

McCully is an all-American,
red-blooded idiot.

Now, don't take my word for it.

Find out for yourself.

Oh, I can spot a Commie
at 50 paces.

Sure, they're all as pure
as the driven snow,

but take my word for it,
Nelson Greene is a Commie,

and you can bet on it.

I mean, you can tell
by looking at him.

The shifty eyes, the clothes...

The clothes?

Of course, the clothes.
Haven't you noticed?

They all dress a certain way.

Well, it probably never
occurred to you.

[Crashing]

Oh, darn!

Oh. Can I give you a hand?

I'm so clumsy.
I'm always dropping things.

Well, believe me,
I know how that feels.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Key words:
Peace, brotherhood, freedom.

You show me a man
who's trying to sell world peace,

and I'll show you a card-carrying
Commie every time.

That simple, eh?

- Just about.
- Including Nelson Greene?

Especially Nelson Greene.

And you can prove it?

I have a dossier.

Names, dates, places,
people he's associated with,

little things that don't mean much
by themselves,

but they all, all add up.

Did they all add up
for Henry Manners?

What do you mean by that?

What I mean was,
was he gonna support you?

Well, he always had.

I've been bread and butter
for this newspaper.

Look, I had no quarrel with Henry,
not on a professional level.

That Greene lawsuit,
that's typical Commie harassment.

They'll never let it get to court.
Believe me.

All we're trying to determine
is who had a motive

for murdering Mr. Manners.

There are other people who had more
to gain by Manners' death than me.

- What does that mean?
- Well, for one thing, Al Klinger.

The lawyer Al Klinger?

He had an appointment with Henry
first thing yesterday morning.

Oh, I see.
He didn't tell you, huh?

I suppose not.

First time in months
that Al's been here by 8:00,

and Henry winds up dead.

Well, I'm not surprised
that he didn't mention it.

That is surprising.

- It sure is, all things considered.
- What things considered?

Well, McCully and Klinger.

Now, according to the personnel files
I was reading,

they were roommates
at Brown University, best of friends.

You know, Klinger was hired
on McCully's recommendation?

- He was, huh?
- Yeah.

Looks like something's happened
to change Mr. McCully's attitude.

Yeah.

[Door chimes ringing]

Ah, Miss Manners, come in.

Hello, Arthur.

Well, where's Zelda?

She's not here.

It's opening night
at Roosevelt Raceway.

But l-I thought...
You said she wanted to talk.

No, I wanted to talk, in private.

I was afraid you wouldn't come
if it was just me.

I don't understand.

Well, maybe this will explain.

What's this, some sort of diary?

A log, a journal of the events
of the past few months,

everything that's happened
at "The Examiner."

The whos, the whats,
and the whys.

Why are you giving this to me?

Well, let's just call it insurance.

Now that you are in charge
of the paper,

you really ought to know
who you can trust and who you can't.

In here, you will find the truth
about Johns, and all the rest of them.

Who was on the phone, Dad?

Velie, still no sign
of Albert Klinger.

Hmm. You suppose
he made a run for it?

We got a man watching his house.

It's midnight, and nobody's seen him
since noon yesterday.

I don't know what to think.

Well, Klinger killed Manners
without leaving a clue.

It's not likely he made a run for it.
And why should he?

Klinger, Klinger, Klinger.

Killers do strange things, Ellery,
even in real life.

I'm gonna make myself a sandwich.
You want one?

Hmm?
Oh, yeah, thanks, Dad.

Hey, did you know Klinger
was studying to be a dentist?

Let's see, we got roast beef,
pastrami,

Swiss cheese.

And McCully was gonna be
an electrical engineer.

Strange how people end up, isn't it?

What's so strange about that?

You wanted to be a magician,
didn't you?

No, a juggler, but I was 8 years old.

You want mayonnaise or mustard?

Ellery?

Huh?

- Which one of these do you want?
- Which one of what do I want?

Make your own sandwich.

That's it!

- What is?
- 12th-floor riddle.

12th-floor...

Ellery?

12th-floor riddle?
What do you mean?

I really can't say
till I check it out, Dad,

but if my guess is right,
Henry Manners did not disappear.

Disappear?
What do you mean, disappear?

Aren't you going to eat?
Where are you going?

To the "Daily Examiner," Dad.
I'll know soon enough.

You go ahead and eat.
I'll be back in an hour.

Not on your life.
Ellery, wait for me.

Ellery?

I don't know.

Maybe I better take a look
at that badge again.

You've already seen it three times.

All right, Dad, would you sit behind
the receptionist's desk, all right?

Okay, now...

just stay right there,
and I'll be right back.

Where's he going?

How would I know?
He's with you.

Well, I'm sorry I asked.

Well, where is he?

Right there.

Right where?

Right here, Dad.

You see, the papers
on the edge of that desk

kept the secretary
from seeing Manners.

Manners never got off that elevator.

When the doors opened,
he was on the floor, dead.

Very good detective work, son.
Where does that leave us?

I don't know.

I wish I was wrong.

If Manners had gotten off
the elevator on a different floor,

at least we'd know
how the killer got to him.

But if he was on the elevator,

that means that he was killed
between the 1st and the 12th floor

on an elevator that didn't stop.

Do you mean I was dragged
down here in the middle of the night

to find this case is still
impossible to solve?

No, no, no, it used to be impossible.

Now it's only improbable.

...conceal this information from me.

Miss Manners,
you are not the best judge of that.

I've been open and honest with you
ever since you've been on the paper.

Sounds like somebody's
having an argument.

Yeah, it's coming
from Manners' office.

Well, let's take a look.

Well, uh...

My brother had finally caught on
to you, Mitchell, and none too soon.

Well, what's going on?

What are you doing here,
Inspector?

My son was reconstructing a riddle.
We overheard the argument.

Oh, well, it was hardly an argument,
Inspector.

Why don't you try telling the truth
for once, Mitchell?

What is that supposed to mean?

You know perfectly well
what that means.

Inspector, I discovered
from a confidential source

that my brother intended to fire
both Mr. McCully and Albert Klinger.

How about it, Mr. McCully?

Henry often made idle threats.

But earlier today,
you specifically told us

that Manners
was gonna back you up.

Well, he would have.
He would have had to.

He was trying to bluff me
into printing a retraction,

smooth things over.

Inspector, it was no bluff.
Believe me.

All right, maybe the old man
finally meant it this once.

Not that I would have minded,
you know.

I don't like interference.
I don't like it from anybody.

I get my facts straight.
I print the truth.

I make a few enemies.
But I'm a newspaperman.

I don't know any other way
of operating.

Maybe you didn't really
have the facts.

I mean about
your Nelson Greene story.

The court's gonna decide that.

Where were you when Mr. Manners
was killed?

Well, you know where I was,
Inspector. I was in the lobby.

Now, are there any more questions?

No?

Well, if you don't mind, since
my column for tomorrow is put to bed,

I would like to do the same thing
for myself.

Wait just a se... I just got to get
one thing clear in my head.

You and Mr. Klinger weren't fired.

- You just assumed you would be.
- Right. Anything else?

No, you can leave.

Just keep yourself available
for further questioning.

Aw, you mean I can't skip town, huh?

Well, now I know we've got to talk
to Albert Klinger.

Yes, we've been trying
to reach him all morning.

Any idea where he might be?

No, I'm afraid I can't help you.

Does he often leave the office without
letting you know where he's going?

Albert has outside clients.

I'm sure there's a reasonable
explanation for his absence.

For his sake, there better be.

I think in McCully and Klinger
we got two good suspects.

That Harriet Manners story

about the traffic jam doesn't smell
too good, either.

This watch has stopped.
You know what time it is?

No, I left mine home.

Excuse me.
Do you know what time it is?

It's about 1:00.

Flannigan!

Inspector. Junior.

Flannigan, what are you doing here?

Oh, just trying to make a living.

Does Harriet Manners know
you're down here skulking around?

Oh, be a sport, Inspector.
I'm just after a story.

Junior here is bound to crack
this murder sooner or later,

and Flannigan's gonna be there
when he does.

I ought to turn you over to "Examiner"
security, let them deal with you.

Look, I've got some info
that you may be interested in.

Now, here's the deal,

I'll tell you what I know,

and you give me an exclusive
on the final story.

Anything you know about this case
you'd better tell to the police.

The police don't pay
Flannigan's salary.

- The "Gazette" does.
- Okay, Flannigan.

- Okay, you've got a deal.
- Oh, oh, oh, Ellery.

Now, get this, 11 days ago,

the "Gazette" is approached
by one aging and anxious editor.

Topic: Continued employment.

- Thornton Johns.
- The one and only.

Are you trying to tell us that
Johns was about to be fired, too?

Not fired, Inspector,
put out to graze.

See, Manners didn't care much
for Johns,

but he didn't have to pink-slip him

because Charlie Calendar
was hot on his trail.

Flannigan, will you speak English?

What he's saying, Dad, is that
Thornton Johns was going to retire.

Right-a-rooney, Junior.

You see, the old guy had reached

"The Examiner's"
official retirement age,

only now, instead of climbing
aboard the old rocking chair,

he'll still be stoking the furnace.

Thornton Johns would have been
forced to retire

if Henry Manners
had not been killed.

- But now that Harriet's taken over...
- I know what he was saying.

We'll check it.

- Don't forget my exclusive.
- I won't.

- I'll be seeing you.
- Okay.

Now we've got four good suspects...
Harriet Manners...

Why, just because
she took over the paper?

Harriet Manners, McCully, Klinger,

and I'll speak to Thornton Johns
in the morning.

Meanwhile, let's get
a good night's sleep.

Ellery?

Ellery...

Dad, what's the usual
retirement age?

Huh? 65.

6 and 5, the two floors
the elevator stopped on.

That's right, Dad.

It could have been a last dying clue.

Of course! That's what Manners
was trying to tell us.

Well, now, hold on, Dad.
It's just a thought.

- We still got a long way to go.
- What do you mean?

Well, we can't prove a thing 'till
we figure out how it was committed.

Yeah.

That's the mystery,
and we still don't have an answer.

- Mr. Klinger.
- Yes?

Oh, Mr. Queen.

I'd like to talk to you
before you get to your office.

Would you like some breakfast?

I ate on the train.
I was in Philadelphia overnight.

A meeting of my college
alumni association.

As a matter of fact, I'm late.
You'll have to excuse me.

No, this is very important.

The morning that Henry Manners
was killed,

you had an appointment with him,
didn't you?

Who told you that?

Then you were in the building
before 8:00.

That's right.

Then I suppose you also know
why Henry and I were meeting?

The McCully lawsuit.

Yes.

But what you may not know is that
I was gonna tell Mr. Henry Manners

what he could do
with his weekly retainer.

I've been working 18 hours a day
to save Mitch McCully's hide,

and suddenly Henry was gonna cut
him adrift, just like that.

Oh, you were angry, weren't you?

Not that angry,

just angry enough
to rip up my contract

if I could have found it
in Henry's files.

You know, Mr. Queen, if you're
really looking for a suspect,

you ought to go talk
to Harriet Manners.

I understand she was caught
in traffic when Henry was killed.

And you're saying she wasn't?

There was no love lost between
Harriet and her brother, not lately.

She was about to start a proxy fight
to get control of "The Examiner"...

one way...

...or another.

I keep forgetting, Mr. Queen, you are
a detective of sorts, aren't you?

Uh, well...

Very well, I admit it.

I was unhappy with the way
my brother was running the paper.

Over the years, it's been getting
more and more reactionary,

and I don't think it can
properly report the news

if it's editorial policy
is slanted like that.

But that's not really all there is
to it, is it, Miss Manners?

No.

No, my brother, Henry, took
a leave of absence during the war

to do a job
for the War Department.

For over a year, I ran the paper,
and I ran it well.

Mm-hmm.
But then Henry returned.

It was as if I hadn't existed.
He cut me out completely.

I found myself back
at "Harper's Bazaar,"

covering the Paris collections,
for heaven's sakes.

I don't want to work
in the fashion end of journalism.

I want to deal with world issues,
with things that matter.

I can understand that.

But why didn't you tell us
about Mrs. Zelda Van Dyke?

- So!
- Yeah.

You know about that, too, do you?

Look, Mrs. Van Dyke
owns 22% of the paper's stock.

Now, in order to get control,
I had to go through a proxy fight.

I wanted her support.

Did you get it?

Well, she's
an unpredictable woman. I...

I felt that, with time,
I would have gotten it.

So, you weren't sure
about her support,

and you took matters
in your own hands?

I don't know quite what you're trying
to say, Mr. Queen,

but it doesn't really make
any difference, does it?

My brother is dead,

and with or without Mrs. Van Dyke,
the paper's mine now.

It' the second inning here
at Fenway Park in Boston,

with the Red So x
ahead of the Yankees 2-0,

as a result of Rudy York'
home run, with Bobby Doerr aboard.

[Door chimes ringing]

Bill Bevens on the mound
for the Yankees,

looking in for the sign
from Aaron Robinson,

as Johnny Pesky, left-hand hitter,
digs in.

Bevens all set to work.
Here' the pitch...

Oh, do come in.

Thank you.

Mrs. Van Dyke,
my name is Ellery Queen.

I called you earlier.

Oh, yes, you're here to fix the sink.

No, I'm here to inquire
about Harriet Manners.

Oh, well, if Harriet sent you,
you must be very good, indeed.

No, no, you see, I'm not a plumber.
I'm a writer.

Oh. I'm so sorry.

Well, do you mind
if I water my plants?

Oh, no, Ma'am, no, not...
of course not.

Then you'd better follow me.

I always give them vanilla extract
on Wednesdays.

They're so crazy about it.

I'd like... I'm sure they are.
I'd like to ask you a...

few questions
about Harriet Manners, if I may.

That's funny.

Someone else called
about her just a little while ago.

That was me.

Are you by any chance
related to Dennis King?

That's Queen.

You don't have to answer
any of his questions, Grandmother.

Queen, comma, Ellery.

Mystery writer of some renown,
born April 2nd, New York City, 1912.

Father, Queen, comma, Richard.

Inspector, New York City
Police Department.

Well, you mustn't bother Mr. Queen.
He's here to see me.

He's here to find out
who killed Henry Manners.

As if the world cared.

Arthur writes for "The Examiner."

Obituaries.
He's been practicing on mine.

Would you like to see it?

That is what you're here about,
isn't it?

- Henry's death?
- Well, I just...

Look, Grandmother, could you please
turn down your baseball game?

No.

Bevens just hasn't had
his best stuff to date.

It' certainly not the way
the Red So x have...

[Radio volume lowers]

Look, Queen, the publisher is dead.
Long live the publisher.

Couldn't we just let it go at that?

You didn't like Henry Manners
very much, did you?

Not very much.

I've been with the paper
for seven years,

six of them buried in obituaries.

Do you have any idea what it's like
writing about dead people every day?

Well, sort of, yeah.

Arthur frequently came home
terribly depressed,

probably because my name
didn't cross his desk.

Oh, now, Grandmother...

The morning Henry Manners
was killed,

you were in the building,
weren't you?

Look, Queen...
I didn't like the old buzzard.

He was not an old buzzard.

But I certainly didn't kill him,
either.

Anyway, I have an alibi.

Well, how nice for you, dear.

What sort of alibi do you have?

President Truman,
I was writing his obituary.

Oh, no, I had no idea.
Oh, his poor wife.

We always update the biographies
on celebrities, just in case.

I was at my desk from 7:30
until I heard the news,

and I can prove it.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Mrs. Van Dyke,
if you don't mind,

could I get back
to Harriet Manners?

Well, of course you may,
and thank you so much for coming.

No, no, no, no, I mean,

it's my understanding
that Harriet Manners

was conducting a proxy fight
to gain control of "The Examiner."

And she told me that she was here
on Tuesday morning

to ask you about your votes.

Oh, yes, of course, I...
I remember talking to her.

On Tuesday morning?

Oh, yes, absolutely.
It could have been.

"It could have been"?
It could have been the afternoon?

It could have been Tuesday.

You don't remember
what day it was?

Young man, I am one
of those persons

who remembers
only very important things.

Now, give my best to Harriet.

[Radio volume raises]
Dave Ferriss comes to bat,

with Hal Wagner on first.

I'm telling you I made that paper
what it is today.

Then Henry Manners was completely
unjustified in forcing you to retire.

Manners didn't retire at 65.
Why should I?

But you knew Harriet Manners would
keep you on if she were publisher.

She would have needed me.
We've always gotten along.

Harriet's a strong woman,

but she needs good people
around her.

Oh, if Manners hadn't died,
I'd have been forced to retire.

That's true.

But I assure you, Inspector,
I had nothing to do with his death.

Now, you say you were in the dispatch
office the morning of the murder.

Anybody see you?

I told you I get in early.
There's a lot of work to do.

I'm in and out of there constantly.

I can't pay attention
if anyone is watching me.

As editor, you could be anywhere
and everywhere in that building.

Now, Mr. Johns, I want to know
precisely where you were at 8:00.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for my father,
Inspector Queen.

He came down here
to question Mr. Johns.

Oh, no, no, I believe Mr. Johns
was called to police headquarters.

- He's not back yet.
- Police head...

Oh, I must have misunderstood.

Thank you.

- Afternoon, Mr. Queen.
- Good afternoon.

Oh, sorry. It's going up.

Isn't it wonderful about Judy?

I guess you must have heard.

Hmm?

They got married!

Judy and Walter,
last night in Stamford.

I guess they think two
can live as cheap as one.

To tell you the truth,
I'm not so sure.

Hmm? So sure about what?

- Judy and Walter.
- Oh.

Mr. Queen?

Well, that's it. Now,
why didn't I think of this before?

Probably because it's so simple.

The impossible crime
is not only possi...

I know who killed Henry Manners.

It was somebody knew
his rigid work schedule,

somebody who knew how to get
to him, and still have an alibi.

Now, that's all the information
you need.

Oh, don't forget,
three buttons were pushed!

Inspector, I demand
to know what's going on!

- Now, what kind of game is this?
- Quiet, quiet, please!

You'll just have to be patient.

I'm just conducting
a few routine checks

on certain aspects of the case.

It'll all be over in a few minutes.

Good evening, everyone.

Would you all please
get on the elevator?

- All of us?
- Yes, Ma'am.

If you'll just cooperate,

I think I can show you
how Henry Manners was killed.

And who killed him, too, huh?

That, too.

Miss Manners, would you please
press the button for the 12th floor?

- Hey, what's going on?
- The elevator's going down.

Aah!

Henry Manners was shot
just like that.

But how?

Well, come on.

I'll show you.

The elevator's electrical box
is right here on the wall.

Now, all the killer needed to do
was to reverse the wires

so the elevator would come down
instead of going up.

And when the doors opened,
the killer shot Manners,

changed the wires back
the way they should be,

and pushed the 12th-floor button.

Now, this part of the basement
is just used for storage anyway,

so he knew nobody else
would be here.

Velie.

Would you all please
get back on the elevator?

But your brother
didn't die immediately.

Now, from the bloodstains,

we know that he was standing
back here when he was shot.

But he used the last
few moments of his life

to crawl over to that control panel

to leave us a clue
to the killer's identity.

6 and 5.

That's right.

Now, it's significant
that Manners waited

until the elevator
had passed the 6th floor

before he pushed the 6 and 5

Otherwise, the elevator would have
stopped on those floors going up

instead of coming down.

He did that so we wouldn't think
the numbers were 5 and 6,

56.

Well, that's right, Dad,
but it's only part of the story.

Actually, 56 is not the clue,
and for that matter, neither is 65.

Well, it's got to be one or the other.

No, no, actually,
Henry Manners was dead

when the elevator reached
the 12th floor.

Now, the receptionist couldn't see
the body lying over there

because all these files
and papers were in the way.

She, the receptionist,
thought the elevator was empty.

I don't quite understand.

Well, Manners knew the elevator
was on the way to 12.

That button had already
been pushed.

He was probably wishing there was
some way that he could push it again.

Why?

Because the message that Manners
meant to give us was "12, 6, 5."

12, 6, 5? That sounds like
a phone extension or something.

Well, actually,
it's an office number.

It's your office number, Mr. McCully.

That's ridiculous.

Is it?

Who better to know
how to reverse an elevator

than somebody who studied
electrical engineering?

You're crazy, Queen.

No, you shot Henry Manners
through the open door in the elevator.

Then you rushed up the stairs

until you reached Fred,
the elevator starter,

to casually inquire
if Mr. Manners had arrived yet.

Now, I timed that.
It only takes about 15 seconds.

You know, that should have been
a perfect alibi.

Well, why should I kill him?
I wasn't afraid of losing my job.

Oh, that's true, but you were afraid
of having your reputation ruined,

which is exactly what Manners
was going to do.

You see, he was going to fire you,

then print a retraction
and expose you as a fraud.

That's why you killed him.

Hey, get him!

Velie, grab him!

Grab a shot of the collar, Dave!

Attaboy!

Nice going, Junior.

There's nothing like a story
with a happy ending.

And when Flannigan gets a scoop,
that's a happy ending.

Take him down and book him.

No, no!
Move in for the close-up!

We have a scoop!

Kill the first page
and replate for an exclusive.

Headline:

"McCully charged
in 'Examiner' slaying."

Leadoff:

"At about 7:00 p.m., nationally known
columnist Mitchell McCully

was charged with the murder
of publisher Henry Manners.

Inspector Richard Queen made
the arrest based on the evidence..."

Hold that elevator!

"...by his son," um...

- Ellery.
- "Ellery." Check the spelling later.

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