All language subtitles for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour S01E15 The Thirty First of February 1080p

- Good evening ladies and
gentlemen of the ensemble.

I suppose you think I'm the
proctor.

I'm not.

I am the conductor.

This is my answer to outdoor
opera.

Singing opera in the out of
doors

is like painting with oils
underwater.

I don't claim the art
suffers, but the artist does.

The orchestra may have a
bit of difficulty seeing me,

but I am also less of a
target for the audience,

should they decide to
become demonstrative.

I understand the soprano
and the tenor have

stopped fighting, so the
curtain must be about to go up.

But before you see tonight's
opus,

we present this little opera
bouffe.

- We have heard the
testimony of Dr. Payne,

the Andersons' family physician,

and we've also had a report
from Sergeant Cresse,

who was summoned to the Anderson
home

on the night of the tragedy.

Now, Mr. Anderson, we
would like you to tell us

exactly what happened on
the evening of February 4th,

prior to the death of the
deceased.

We have already read the
transcript of the testimony

you gave to the police, but
perhaps you wouldn't mind

going over the details another
time.

Will you take the chair,
please, Mr. Anderson?

- Raise your right hand.

Do you solemnly swear to tell
the truth,

the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth?

- I do.

- Be seated.

- Well, it was about eight
o'clock.

That's the hour my wife
and I generally dined

on the help's night off.

She was in the kitchen.

She liked the opportunity to
have the kitchen to herself

once a week, and always made
one of my favorite dishes.

She always refused to tell me

what we were having for dinner,

but my guess was beef
stroganoff.

Valerie suggested a bottle
of wine with dinner.

We debated briefly as to
whether to have a Burgundy

or a claret, and finally
decided on a Beaujolais.

She went to get a bottle from
the cellar.

I returned to my paper.

Several moments passed,
then there was thud.

Valerie?

It was dark in the cellar,
and she didn't answer me.

I wondered where she was.

The light in the cellar had
burned out.

I suppose I was a little
panicky by this time.

I couldn't imagine what had
happened,

and then I saw her.

At first, I only saw her foot,
and then,

as soon as I touched her
face, I knew she was dead.

I rushed upstairs and called Dr.
Payne.

Later he called the police.

- Thank you, Mr. Anderson.

One moment, please, the district
attorney

may want to ask you a few
questions.

- Mr. Anderson, why
when your wife was busy

preparing dinner did
you allow her to go down

into the cellar after the wine,

instead of going after it
yourself?

- She always did, she knew where
it was.

- Oh, I see.

Now, about the cellar light.

Sergeant Cresse has already
testified that

the bulb was burned out, as you
said,

but how long had it been burned
out?

- I don't know, I rarely
went down to the cellar.

- Why do you suppose Mrs.
Anderson used matches

to light her way down,
when there was a flashlight

so conveniently nearby in the
hallway?

- Well, things like
that, tools and whatnot,

were my department.

She never could find a pair of
pliers,

an extension cord, a tube of
cement.

- This book of matches marked
exhibit A,

these are the matches that were
found

beside your wife's body, are
they not?

- I suppose she picked them up
hurriedly.

- Hmm.

She was known as Val?

- To a few of her close friends.

I always called her Valerie.

- Thank you.

- That will be all, Mr.
Anderson.

You may step down, thank you.

Based upon the police report
and the evidence heard here,

we find that the death of
Valerie Anderson was accidental.

Death was due to a fracture
of the cervical vertebrae

sustained when the
deceased suffered a fall

in the Anderson home on
February the 4th of this year.

Thank you.

- These things are always an
ordeal, but it's over now.

- Well, thank you, sergeant.

I'm grateful for the courtesy

and understanding you've all
shown.

- Not at all, keep them.

- Okay, Phil, on your way.

- Good morning, Pat.

- Good morning, Mr. Anderson.

- Andy!

So good to see you back.

- Thank you, Molly.

- You're sure you're not rushing
things?

- Work's the best thing for me
right now.

- Oh, Mr. Anderson, we hadn't
expected you quite so soon!

Well, I mean--
- It's all right, Maggie.

It's best to get these awkward
moments

over with as soon as possible.

- Yes, sir.

Mr. Gordon phoned three
times this morning.

- Things haven't changed
much in three weeks.

- And Mr. Vincent
scheduled a meeting for 10.

- Right.

- Andy, good to see you!

Been meaning to call you, you
know,

say how sorry I was.

- I'm glad you didn't, Charlie.

I'd rather talk business right
now.

- Yes, Mr. Anderson?

- Ms. Wright, will you
get Mr. Gordon back again,

before he has to call a fourth
time?

- I'm afraid he's
already

on line two, Mr. Anderson.

- Oh.

- Anderson?

- Yes, Mr. Gordon?

- Sorry to hear of
your loss.

- Well, thank you that's very
kind of you.

- Terrible shock.

- Well, I appreciate your
sympathy, Mr. Gordon.

- How's the
new container coming?

- The new container for Kiddie
Modes?

Just a moment please.

- I wrote you a
week or so ago giving my ideas.

- Yes, I agree, the
container should be opaque.

Yes, the Indian figure should
be cut-outs for kiddies.

- If you've had
time to go through them--

- I'm sorry, I'm haven't been
able

to carry through on this, but--

- The last
sketches you submitted

were no good at all.

Anderson?

- I'll make those changes
right away, Mr. Gordon.

- Yes, Mr. Anderson?

- Ms. Wright, didn't you
keep my calendar up to date

while I was away?

- Well, yes, I think so.

I mean, I always do.

- Well, today is Monday the
25th.

Will you please bring it up to
date?

I'm due for the conference
with Mr. Vincent.

- You gentlemen are my top
executives.

Perhaps one of you could
explain to me what this is.

Andy?

- I'm sorry, Mr. Vincent, I've
never seen

that particular container
before.

I've been away for a few weeks.

- Then let me explain for your
benefit.

This is Whisker-Off, a
revolutionary
new shaving preparation

contained in a prosaic and
commonplace, old-fashioned

tube designed by our
organization!

This is unthinkable!

- Mr. Vincent, the
manufacturer did express

a desire for a tube.

- Manufacturers don't know
what they want, Lessing!

That's why they come to us,

the leading industrial
designers in the business.

- Yes, sir, I'm sorry, but
I've had to take on several

added accounts lately
with Andy gone, and--

- Whisker-Off is the new
miracle shaving preparation.

You just rub it on, then whisk
it off,

and whiskers are painlessly
gone, completely!

Not for hours, but for a day, a
full day.

Whisk, why, doesn't
that immediately suggest

the most modern packaging?

Why, it's almost spelled out for
you.

Andy, I'm putting you in charge
of this.

Come up with an attractive
container.

Give me something creative,

something worthy of
Vincent Industrial Design.

You're the man to do it.

- I appreciate your confidence,
sir.

- Try it on yourself.

Personal reaction, nothing like
it.

It's priceless, Andy, priceless!

Gentlemen.

Andy!

I have discovered a bright young
fellow

who I think would be a
credit to this organization,

and I'd appreciate it
very much if you would

kind of take him under your
wing and show him the ropes.

You might start him in retail
display.

- I'd be happy to, Mr. Vincent.

I've got a lot of back
work to catch up on--

- Oh, so much the better,
baptism of fire,

that sort of thing.

See what he's made of.

Name is Granville.

- I'd be glad to keep an eye on
him.

- Good.

Put him on Whisker-Off.

He might have some ideas.

- Mr. Anderson?

- Yes?
- I'm Peter Granville.

I'm supposed to start working
here today.

- Oh yes, Mr. Vincent spoke
about you.

Glad to have you join us.

- Thank you, sir.

- Ms. Wright?

Would you take Mr. Granville
up to the retail display unit,

have Marshall fill him
in on basic procedure?

- I'd be glad to.

- I'll be along as soon as I get
free.

- Thank you, Mr. Anderson.
- Oh, Mr. Gordon phoned again.

- Oh, I'll get him.

You go along with Mr. Granville.

Mr. Gordon, please.

- Anderson,
Anderson?

I can't hear you.

- Miss Wright,

haven't you changed this
calendar yet?

Miss Wright?

Mr. Anderson?

- Sergeant Cresse.

What did you wanna see me about?

- It'd be a little more
comfortable

if we had our talk
inside, don't you think?

- Yes.

- Thank you.

- Take your coat?

- No, no, thank you,
I'm not gonna be long.

- Drink?

- Yes, as a matter of
fact, a little bourbon neat

if you don't mind, kind
of take the chill off.

Ah, thank you.

Cheers.

Mr. Anderson, to the
best of your knowledge,

do you have any enemies?

- Why?

- Police department, et
cetera, et cetera, et cetera,

dear sir, RE the case of
Valerie Anderson's demise,

it might interest you
to know that her husband

always hated her and
made her life miserable.

- That's a lie.

- It might also interest you
to know that Anderson had

her life insured for $50,000.

Wasn't it a remarkable
coincidence that she

just happened to fall down those
stairs some time afterward.

- Let me see that.

No signature, of course.

- There is a post-script,
however,

PS, what about those matches?

- Well, what about those
matches?

- What about the letter?

- It's a pack of lies and
innuendos!

That sometimes afterwards
happened to be two years later.

And we were both insured for
$50,000, as I'm sure you know.

- Now, Mr. Anderson, don't get
upset.

I'm not accusing you of
anything, I'm merely curious

as to the identity of the
letter writer, that's all.

- Well, whoever he is,
he's beneath contempt.

- Of course he is, or she.

However, that post-script does
bring up

a rather bothersome
point, a point that really

wasn't covered at the inquest.

- Oh?

- As you
recall, part of the evidence

presented, your wife having
tried to set a light,

and finding it not functioning,

chose not to tell you,
but got a book of matches,

lit one, and started down the
stairs.

- So?

- Either tripping or falling
while the match was lit,

or losing her footing
when the match went out,

the book of matches
presumably falling with her,

since they were found by her
hand on the cellar floor.

- So?

- Mr. Anderson, no burned
out match was found.

- Well, maybe she didn't use
one!

- Why would she have them if she
had

no intention of using them?

- All right, so, she had them
with her.

You just haven't been able
to find the burned out match.

- Well, finding a matchstick
is rather like finding

a needle in a haystack, isn't
it?

- I would certainly think so.

- Well, the point is, Mr.
Anderson, that we are trained

to find needles in
haystacks, and we usually do.

- But all that traffic
down there, the doctor,

you and your men, even
myself, one of us might have

kicked the match aside, picked
it up

on the sole of our shoe, carried
it out.

- My men are very thorough, Mr.
Anderson.

I'm afraid there was no burned
out match.

- Are you trying to say that
I put those matches there,

so that you'd think that
she had them with her?

- I'm not trying to say anything
of the--

- That I'd put a burned out
light bulb in the cellar,

so that it would seem
that she had to use them?

- You're getting off--
- That she didn't fall

down those steps, but was
pushed?

- Mister--
- Are you accusing me

of murder, Sergeant Cresse?

- I never spoke of murder, you
did.

- I'll let you know later, Pat.

Charlie.
- Hi, Andy.

- I used Whisker-Off this
morning instead of shaving.

It's a miracle, I've never
seen anything like that.

I've got to come up with a
sensational packaging device.

- Oh, I'm sorry I didn't come up

with the right thing
to please the old man.

- Oh, it's not your fault,
Charlie.

You were overloaded with me
gone.

- Good morning
Mr. Anderson, Mr. Lessing.

- Good morning.
- Ms. Wright, anything?

- Yes, Mr. Gordon
calling, he wants to know

why the new model for Kiddie
Modes isn't in his hands yet.

- Yeah, I'll call him in a few
minutes.

- Sweetheart, I love
you so much

I can't bear not seeing you.

Andy leaves for Chicago next
week,

and we can be together again.

Until then, my darling, always,
your Val.

- Yes, sir?

- Ms. Wright, where is the
envelope

that this letter came in?

- I don't know, sir, I don't
recall

opening that letter at all.

I'll be glad to look on
my desk if you want me to.

- Oh, nevermind, that'll be all.

- Mr. Anderson?

I'm sorry, I should have
knocked.

I have a list of suggestions
for the Whisker-Off container,

if you'd look at them.

- Would you mind leaving them?

I'm rather busy at the moment.

- Well, if I could
explain them to you, I--

- Just give me a chance
to do a couple of things,

and then I'll look at them.

- Of course, well, thank
you very much, sir.

- Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to scare you to death.

- I was a million miles away.

- Well, if you're
worried about Mr. Gordon,

I've got the new sketches
for Kiddie Modes, right here.

I stayed up until two o'clock
last night to finish them.

- Thanks, Molly, I really
appreciate that.

- Well, for you, sir, it was a
pleasure.

- Molly, I can trust you.

- I think you know that.

- Have lunch with me, please?

- Well, I wonder if I should
trust you.

- Please do, it's very
important.

- Well, I promised Mr. Whivern
I'd work

through lunch to catch up.

- Dinner then?

Will you have dinner please?

- I shouldn't sound so
available, but,

I'd be delighted.

- Thanks, Molly.

- I can't believe it, you
don't mean what you're saying.

- Well, I do mean it.

My wife had a lover.

This letter's in her
handwriting.

- Why would anybody want
to send that to you now?

- Well, her boyfriend suspects
that I found out about him,

murdered Valerie because I was
jealous.

- Oh, Andy.

- He's trying to pin
this on me, shake me up,

make me admit it.

My desk calendar, February
4th, the day she died.

- But that could have been a
coincidence,

just an oversight on
the part of Ms. Wright.

- That letter to the police that
made

the sergeant suspect me?

- That could have been
written by some crank.

Andy, you're still upset
over Valerie's death,

and you're just imagining
all sorts of things.

- Who'd do a thing like this to
me?

It has to be somebody
in the Vincent company.

Somebody in the office put
that letter in my mail.

- Andy, I can't explain that
letter,

but it doesn't imply all
the things you're inventing.

Someone may want to hurt
you, but that doesn't mean--

- Charlie Lessing!

The old man racked him up about
that Whisker-Off container,

handed the job to me.

Charlie must loathe me!

- Charlie doesn't resent you,

and he hardly knew Valerie!

You're not making any sense.

- Molly, I'm not the most
stable person in the world.

I had an emotional breakdown
during the war, battle fatigue.

I'm vulnerable under
pressure, I admit that.

But I'm not imagining this,
not since this morning,

not since that letter.

Somebody's out to get me!

- Why, Andy, who?

- It's got to be somebody at the
office,

Riverton, Charlie Lessing,
Whivern, maybe Vincent.

They all knew Valerie at office
parties,

dinner at our home.

- Andy, I think we should
find some place more private.

People from the office drop in
here.

- Oh, I'm embarrassing you.

All right.

We'll find a place more private,

my house.

- Hello, Mr. Anderson.

- That's Granville.

- Yes, I know, I saw him, let's
go.

- Vincent's hired him to spy on
me.

- Andy, will you please stop
imagining?

The man stopped in for
a drink, now, let's go.

- Please don't leave me, Molly.

You're the only one I can talk
to, the only one I can trust.

Look at this room.

That furniture.

Those lamps, pictures.

Listen to this.

That was her favorite piece of
music,

no class, no taste,

a dull, drab, cold woman.

That's all she was, no
taste, no refinement.

Whatever made me think
she was so wonderful

that first time I met her
at the cocktail party,

cheap little, I should have
pushed her down those steps

a long time ago.

- Andy!

- Oh, oh.

I didn't mean that I did push
her.

I swear, I didn't, Molly, I
didn't.

What I meant is I should have,

I, I should have married a girl
like you.

- Andy, you've had too many
martinis.

- I should have met you
at that cocktail party.

You're a lovely girl, kind,
understanding.

- Oh Andy, I wish you had met me
instead.

But this is not the time to talk
about it.

You're a little drunk, you know.

You're not thinking very
clearly.

- I'm thinking very clearly,
first time in my life.

That cheap little, running
around with some man.

- You've no proof of it.

Dear, can't you let it alone?

- You help me, Molly, lovely
girl, sweet, understanding.

- I think we've both
had too many martinis.

Now, come on, let's
get you up to bed, huh.

We'll talk about it another day.

Andy!

- Oh, Molly, Molly!

Oh, I'm sorry, Molly, I'm sorry!

I thought you,

I thought you were, oh.

- That concludes the
first half of our show.

But rather than have you
go out for an intermission,

television brings the
intermission to you.

I shall be here at its
conclusion.

Good evening, and
welcome back to the show.

In case you are wondering
why I took no intermission,

frankly, I'm stuck in here.

I shall attempt to wriggle out

during the second half of our
story.

It will begin when the
following commercial ends.

- Mr. Vincent wants you
to join him for lunch,

and a special delivery just
arrived.

- Eat something, Andy.

- I'm not hungry.

- How are you coming with the
new container for Whisker-Off?

Have you tried it yet?
- Yeah, I tried it.

- Well?

- It stings a little, well,
not exactly stings, it smarts.

- I used it this morning,
or was it yesterday morning?

- Andy, I'm worried about you.

You've been so touchy since you
got back.

- I lost my wife, you know.

- Oh, yes, I know.

But it's no good to brood.

Your work's suffering too.

Look Andy, it's a terrible thing
that happened to Val, but--

- Val?

- What?

- You called her Val.

- Well, I don't see what--

- That's how she signed that
letter.

- What letter?

Look, Andy, I don't know
what's going on, but--

- You could have put
that letter in my mail,

the matches too.

- What on earth are you talking
about?

- You could have been Valerie's
lover!

- Andy, I think maybe you came
back to work much too soon.

- I'm sorry, sir, I'm very
sorry.

Oh, Molly, Molly, I've got to
talk to you.

- Well, Andy, I'm on my way up.

- Please!

- Let's go into my office.

- Molly, I'm terribly
sorry about last night,

but I wanted you to know that--

- Andy, please don't worry about
it!

Please, I understand.

I've already forgotten about
what happened last night.

But I haven't forgotten what you
said.

- And I meant it Molly, every
word of it,

I should have married a girl
like you.

- Oh, Andy!

- Molly could.

- Andy!

- Yes?

- Dictation, please.

Come in!

- Yes, sir.

- Letter to Mr. Gordon, Kiddie
Modes, you know the address.

Dear Mr. Gordon, you're
absolutely right,

the sketches are no good.

I've told our illustration
department to work on new ones.

We regret the delay,
appreciate your patience,

sincerely, so on, got that?

- Yes, sir.

- Interoffice memo to Whivern,
illustration department,

Kiddie Modes tossed our
sketches back at us.

Their criticism on this
occasion, as on others,

is incompetent,
irrelevant, and immaterial.

But we have to humor them.

Of all our pestilential clients,
Kiddie Modes is the worst.

They demand 10 times as
much as any other client.

But make them up some sketches

to please their childish hearts.

Shoot that down to Whivern
immediately.

- Yes, sir.

- No calls now, please!

- I'll have the same thing,
bartender.

Drinking on the job?

- Come to gloat?

- Gloat?

You mean about your kissing
Molly?

That is entirely your affair,
old man,

in a manner of speaking,

although, I would keep it under
wraps

for a while if I were you.

I mean, period of mourning,
that sort of thing.

- Which means?

- Nothing Andy, nothing,
didn't come here to row,

but to warn.

Was closeted with dear
old Vincent just before,

and frankly chum, at the moment,

your position is a little bit
shaky.

- You're all converging on me,
aren't you?

- You may not believe this
Andy, and you probably won't,

but in my own fumbling, inept
fashion,

I'm trying to help you.

- Help me, help me right
out into the street,

so you can get my job!

- Andy, come on.

I just spent a half an hour
defending you to the old man.

Don't make me feel I made a
mistake.

We all know what you've gone
through.

Valerie died a miserable sudden
death.

- Sudden death?

- Now what?

- What do you mean sudden death?

- I don't get you.

- You mean foul play?

- What?

- They both go together, don't
they,

sudden death, foul play?

- Andy, what in the name of--
- Don't they!

Wait a minute, I just
thought of something.

- What?

- No one else had easier
access to this office.

- So, what does that mean?

- No one else hung around at
more parties.

- Hung around?

Are you talking about Valerie?

- Yes, I'm,

I said no more calls.

- This is Mr. Vincent's
office.

Mr. Vincent would like to
see you before you leave.

- Oh, all right.

- Here are your letters.

- Oh, Mr. Anderson, I have some
ideas

for the Whisker-Off container.

Could I talk to you--
- Not now, not now, later!

- Pretty bad, isn't it?

The bedroom's the same way,
pillows,

mattress, terrible mess.

Brainy job of entry though,
they managed the lock

on the front door there.

Hey, you look kind of pale.

Hey, let me get you a drink.

- How long have you been here?

- Oh,
just a little while.

- How do I know you didn't do
this?

- There you go.

Gilbert and Sullivan
were right I'm afraid.

A policeman's lot is not a happy
one.

Actually, the mailman discovered
your door standing open,

so I came over and found
the house in this condition,

waited 'til you got
here, and what happens?

You come in, you accuse me of
all this.

Here, here's your drink.

No?

What do you suppose this was
done for,

a search for evidence, maybe?

- Whoever broke in wasn't
searching for evidence,

because there isn't any evidence
to find.

Whoever broke in was trying to
destroy me.

- Well, they must have
had a pretty good reason

to suspect you.

- And you?

- I?
- Yes, you.

Either make a formal charge of
murder against me or get out.

- Now, here you go talking
about murder again.

- Do you hear me?

- There you go.

Good night.

- Oh, Mr. Anderson, I hope you
don't mind,

I borrowed this book.

- Good morning, mister.

- Anything?

- No.

- Whatever happened to your
face?

Vincent wants to see you right
away.

- That calendar, where'd it come
from?

- How would I know?

Maybe it's a gift from
our faithful secretary,

or Molly O'Rourke.

- Look at the date.

- Little things amuse little
girls.

- You think it's a joke?

- Of course, the 31st of
February,

sort of a super leap year, get
it?

- Yes?

- I want you in
here, now.

- Yes, sir.

He's expecting me.

Is something wrong, Mr. Vincent?

- I'm going to read you a
letter, Andy, a memo, actually.

Kiddie Modes tossed these
sketches back to us.

Their criticism on this
occasion, as on others,

is incompetent,
irrelevant, and immaterial,

but we'll have to humor them.

Of all our pestilential clients
Kiddie Modes is the worst.

- I don't understand.

- Then allow me to enlighten
you, Andy.

That memo was received
this morning by Mr. Gordon,

who has quite understandably
brought it to me.

- I've never been so
insulted in all my life!

Of all the unethical--

- But I didn't send that memo
to--

- Does it really matter, Andy?

The letter and the memo were
unfortunately

put in the wrong envelopes.

I repeat, does it really matter?

The point is one of
attitude, your attitude.

- I take full responsibility
for that mistake, Mr. Gordon,

and I do beg your pardon.

You see, that memo was
the product of an extreme

emotional tension that
I've been undergoing.

I lost my wife, Mr. Gordon, this
month.

You probably heard about it.

She fell down a flight of
steps and broke her neck.

You must understand I haven't
been myself,

and it's not just me, you
see, somebody has been trying

to break me down by, you must
understand!

- I'm sorry.

But it's quite out of my
hands now, Mr. Anderson.

- What?

- Kiddie Modes is taking their
account to another company.

- Oh, wait a second,
surely if I apologize--

- It's too late for apologies,
Andy.

- Oh, but wait a minute,
certainly this can

all be straightened out.

Kiddie Modes has been
our client for 13 years.

Certainly this error on
my part isn't going to end

this long established
relationship.

It was not we who ended that
relationship, Mr. Anderson.

- Oh, please!

- Andy, I'm giving you a
leave of absence, half pay.

Take whatever time you need
to pull yourself together.

Travel, rest, do what you like.

- But I don't want a leave of
absence.

- I'm not asking what you want,
Andy.

- Oh, I see, 19 years of loyal
service,

and now the ash can, is that it?

- Andy, I'm not firing
you, on the contrary.

It is because of your
good work in the past

that I'm seeing to it that you
rest,

recover from this period of
upset.

Why, in three or four
months you'll be fine!

- Three or four months?

- Well, I feel you would
need at least that much time.

- You feel, how about the way I
feel?

- Andy, it is because of my
consideration of your feelings

that we are having this
conversation.

- No, no.

Work is what I need.

I'm terribly sorry, Mr.
Vincent, I made a mistake,

I've made lots of mistakes.

I accused you of being Valerie's
lover.

That's ridiculous, of course.

But I must go on working,
I have a job to do.

I can't leave everything
in Lessing's hands!

- He's perfectly capable.

- Oh, yes, he's capable,
he's capable of having me

thrown right out of the agency!

- Are you blaming Charlie
now for what's happened?

- Don't you understand it was
Charlie,

my good friend, Charlie,
who's been trying to drive me

out of my mind?

He's the one who's been
changing the calendar,

sending me letters,
trying to intimidate me!

- Oh, Andy, for--

- Mr. Vincent, Charlie
Lessing was my wife's lover!

Oh, I've had enough of this.

I don't need your job.

I don't need your miserable
half pay leave of absence.

I don't need you and I'll find
out

who's responsible for these
things!

- Andy, you aren't well.

You don't even look well.

What's the matter with your
face?

- Oh, that's a little
joke on you, Mr. Vincent.

Go ahead, use Whisker-Off,
give up shaving.

Your face will be so tender
you won't be able to touch it!

- What?

- No matter what kind of a
container you stuff it in!

No, you're dead!

You're dead!

- Yes, she's dead Anderson.

But he can't murder her twice.

Now, would you like to tell
us exactly how you did it?

- What are you trying to prove?

Look what we've already
done to an innocent man!

- Innocent?

You're as squeamish as the
commissioner.

He asked me to resign, you know.

- Yes, I heard about
it when I reported back

to headquarters this morning.

- My handling of the case wasn't
approved,

unorthodox methods, he said.

- That's a polite description
for breaking

into a suspect's house and
scaring them half to death.

- Just when did you adopt this
holier than thou attitude?

I don't seem to recall
any objections from you

during the investigation.

- Investigation?

Persecution you mean,
altering his calendar,

sending him forged letters,
ransacking his apartment.

Oh yes, I did what I was told,
I carried out your orders.

But tell me, just what
have we accomplished

outside of terrifying him?

- Even the commissioner didn't
deny that my methods worked.

He just didn't approve
of them, that's all.

- Well, I don't believe
Anderson is guilty.

- Well, I'm gonna prove you
wrong.

- You think you'll get a
signed confession from him?

- I know I will.

- You can see the
patient now, gentlemen.

- Well?

- I don't wanna see him.

- Suit yourself, boy.

- You will find a change in him,
sergeant.

For some reason, he has a fear
of shaving.

Please, come in.

- He's writing something.

That could be important.

- Oh, is he?

Mr. Anderson.

There's somebody here to see
you.

- I don't know him.

- Are you sure?

Why don't you look at him, Mr.
Anderson?

- I don't need to look at him.

- You're writing something, huh?

To her?

May I see?

- Perfectly all right, Mr.
Anderson, let him see it.

Mr. Anderson's wife comes to
torment him

and he hopes to stop
her with his writings.

- Is that what he told you?

- She came last night.

She knew the date of course.

- Date?

- The 31st of February.

She always comes then.

Back, she's back!

No, go away!

It's not the 31st of February!

- Well?

- He's mad.

- Congratulations.

- What does that mean?

You know his background as well
as I do.

You know he's been heading
for the edge for years.

- And all it took to finish him

was just a little push, wasn't
it, Cresse?

- Look, he put a burnt
out bulb in the cellar,

then he pushed his wife down the
stairs,

and he broke her neck.

Now, what more do you
require boy, a blueprint?

- No!

What the district attorney
requires, evidence!

- The only way that matchbook
could have got by the body

was if Anderson put it there
himself after he killed her.

- That isn't evidence.

- Well, he's guilty.
- Huh.

- You want a match?
- Yeah.

- Thought I had one.

- There's a book of them by your
feet.

- Must have a hole in my pocket.

As a matter of fact, I do.

- A hole in your pocket?

- Yes, a hole in my pocket, so?

- What if Anderson had
a hole in his pocket

the night his wife died?

What if he had a book of
matches in that pocket,

and they fell out onto the
cellar floor?

Must make you very happy.

You realize what you've done
sergeant.

- Several stagehands are
attempting to pull me out of
here.

If they succeed by next week,

I shall bring you another story.

Scenes from our next
production will be shown

immediately after this
commercial.