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In Thomas Paine's Common Sense,

the same incident is related by a group of observers.

But where Paine uses the obvious disparities in the descriptions of the incident

to make an anti-religious argument,

I am more concerned here with the reporting of the incident

as it affects a phase of creative writing.

I am concerned with the sometimes unbridgeable gulf

between what we see, what we remember,

and what we subsequently commit to writing.

You asked for it, Hewes!

I warned you to stay away from my wife. I warned you!

My good man, you are interrupting the class.

Put that ridiculous toy away.

Oh no, Professor.

You talked me out of it once, but not this time.

No, Mr. Moncton. Stay out of this.

[gasping]

Heroics are quite unnecessary, Mr. Moncton.

If you'll return to your seat, I'll explain your next assignment,

which will prove unquestionably

that all of you have quite undeveloped powers of observation.

What you have just witnessed was an experiment.

The question is how much and with what accuracy did you witness it.

In the remaining 25 minutes, all of you will write a report of this little drama.

And you're on your honor not to compare notes with anyone else

Drop your assignments in my mailbox,

and at our next salon, I shall read some of them aloud.

[chatter]

Man, am I shook up!

Who was that guy that tried to jump me?

He was quite a hero, wasn't he?

But I'd have fired the second shot if--

It wasn't necessary.

Quite an excellent performance, Ollie.

I panicked, Professor.

That's the only reason I didn't shoot again.

The second shot would have been superfluous.

- And fatal. - Hmm.

What?

I accidentally released the clip, putting the gun back in the drawer.

The cartridge in the breech of the automatic was a blank.

But, Professor, the clip was loaded with live ammunition!

That's impossible.

I like to fainted when I saw it.

If the hero hadn't jumped when he did, I'd have shot you dead.

There were blanks in the breech and the clip.

I keep the clip with the live ammunition in another drawer.

I swear to heaven, Professor, I never opened the gun.

Don't be ridiculous, Ollie.

Hmm.

Somebody came in here after I left.

Did you see anyone?

A guy brought this package in.

Ned Bertell of the... of the bookstore.

Anyone else?

Yeah.

But that was before you came in to get your books, between classes.

A woman.

One of my students?

I don't know.

I saw her from the back coming in here.

That's why I waited till after you left.

You having woman trouble?

[scoff] Certainly not.

Here you are, Ollie.

Thank you for your help.

Thanks.

Hey, thanks, Professor.

That's quite all right.

Ollie, mention this to no one.

Understand? No one.

Anything you say.

Well, that was quite a show you put on in class, Professor.

The peasants loved it.

No doubt.

Ned, as you well know, I'm an opponent of censorship in any form,

but really this is--

Oh, well, give the public what it demands.

A college campus is not the public.

Maybe I could slip you one in your next order.

There's no need to be impertinent.

When you delivered my order before class, did you see anyone in the office?

Male or female?

A woman.

Aha.

What does that mean?

Nothing. The office was empty.

Thank you.

But I did see her earlier.

Who?

Your wife.

You may mean my ex-wife?

It's quite impossible. She's in Palo Alto.

Well, then she must have made a quick trip, Professor,

because I sold her a copy of L'Affaire Annabelle this afternoon.

She's staying with the Metcalfes.

[phone rings]

Hello.

[sigh] Ronald, how are you?

Physically intact.

But I don't think my state of mind a safe topic.

How long has my ex-wife been your houseguest?

A few days, that's all.

A few days.

In that period I had the occasion to converse with you several times.

Perhaps you didn't think the matter of any interest to me.

Now see here, Ronald.

Really, I'd rather be left out of this completely.

Laura is our guest. That's the extent of it.

Is your wife there?

Let me speak to her, please.

Ronald Hewes wants to speak with you.

Hello, Professor.

I would like to speak to Laura.

And I don't want to make an issue of it.

Well, I'm sorry, but she's lying down at the moment.

She's not asleep, is she?

Well, I really couldn't say.

She was out this afternoon and seemed quite-- quite tired.

Tell my wife I want to talk to her.

I'll see if she's awake.

Laura?

Yes, Esther.

Your husband's on the phone.

Tell him I'm asleep, will you?

No, wait.

Ask him if he'll come over here tomorrow afternoon after classes.

I think I'm ready to face him now.

Laura would like you to come here tomorrow.

Would 3:30 be satisfactory?

Quite satisfactory, thank you.

The door was unlocked.

It's still unlocked.

I'll leave, after we come to an agreement about this.

If you wish to hold a literary seminar, I shall have to disqualify myself.

I never discuss cheap novels.

Cheap?

This novel has earned over $90,000 in royalties alone.

When you accosted me a week ago,

I told you then I wasn't interested in you, the hysterical story you told,

or that piece of literary trash, Mrs., uh...

Sheldon. Sally Sheldon.

And in case you forgot what I told you, my maiden name was Lawrence.

And in case that doesn't ring a bell,

let me tell you again, I was Monica Lawrence's sister.

Oh, yes.

I did have a student by that name once...

about two years ago.

Yes. Yes, you did.

And for her term paper, she handed in a short novel.

Did she? I'd quite forgotten.

Oh. Is that going to be your defense, huh?

Unconscious plagiarism?

Well, Professor, I'm afraid that's not going to work.

All you did was to flesh out and expand on Monica's story.

I suggest, in that case, that you contact, uh, E.G. Stuart

or the publisher.

I wrote to publisher. They referred me to a literary agent.

Mr. Estridge was not very helpful.

I had no luck at your home,

so yesterday I came to your office, and I searched it.

So you're the one.

Mm-hmm.

And I reclaimed Monica's original manuscript

with inserts and revision in your own handwriting, Professor.

You're being ridiculous, Mrs. Sheldon.

Your sister, if I may be blunt, was extremely beautiful

but quite incapable of writing anything as distastefully literate as that novel.

You're quite right, Professor Hewes.

She came to me for help.

I wrote that novel outline, Professor, every last word of it.

I don't believe you.

Well, I'll have no trouble proving it in court.

But I don't think that you can afford a lawsuit.

Can you, Mrs. Sheldon?

- I can afford quite a lot. - Hmm.

Including all the hushed-up details of your sister's death.

The fact she was suffering from a very mild case of incipient motherhood

when she perished from that "accidental" overdose of sleeping pills?

Perhaps you could afford a scandal, but what about your husband?

What about yours and Monica's parents?

My family won't be the only one to suffer.

You appropriated Monica's story after she died,

but what you didn't know was that this story

was based on letters and things that Monica had told me in confidence.

Now I want you to remember just one thing, Professor.

The characters in this novel are still very much alive.

Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I think this conversation has gone quite far enough, Mrs. Sheldon.

Good afternoon.

Oh, no, Professor.

You don't get rid of me quite that easily.

Tell me something.

Uh, this married professor whose house Monica used to go to so often,

do you have any idea who he could be?

What an odd way to refer to him-- Graffy.

[laughing]

Oh, Professor, where did you ever get such a silly nickname?

Good morning, Professor. I'm so glad for you.

Are you? I can't imagine why.

Laura's back!

Your wife's back.

You've been peering through your curtains again.

I've been doing nothing of the kind, Professor.

I've been raking leaves.

And I presume you've been raking the same pile of leaves ever since.

Laura.

I wondered who was charging in here like that.

What's happened to you?

Your hand.

Your face.

Oh, nothing. I slipped getting out of a cab.

I had it bandaged in a drugstore.

I guess I'm awfully late, aren't I?

I suppose I'll have to start off by apologizing to him.

To whom?

Well, to Ronald. Isn't he here yet?

No, and he won't be. He's left town.

But I don't understand.

And he asked if a lawyer could be here, too.

A Mr. Perry Mason called up this morning and asked if I had any objections to--

[doorbell rings]

That must be Ronald.

Mrs. Hewes? I'm Mr. Mason.

I'm sorry to be late, but I was held up in court.

Oh, won't you come in, Mr. Mason?

Oh, this is Doctor Metcalfe, the Dean of the English Department.

Mr. Mason.

Mr. Mason, too bad you had your trip for nothing.

I don't think Hewes is going to be here.

He left town.

It seems that this conference and having you here

was just a stall, a trick.

Mr. Mason, will you help me?

Dr. Metcalfe, do you have a phone I might use?

Certainly, right over there.

Excuse me.

Oh what's Hewes' home phone number?

Hollywood 20799.

[ring]

[ring]

You meet a very literary-type mind in this job.

That one just asked for a book by "Frood."

A "Froodian" slip?

Hey, you're swinging, man, but don't intellectualize.

The chicks don't dig it.

All they want is emotional release.

What's the matter? Have a fight with your girl?

Yeah, something like that.

Well, call her up and surrender. It always works.

She's been dead for a while.

Oh. I'm sorry.

Let's get back to Professor Hewes.

I gave you the whole bit.

He wanted to know if I saw a woman in his office.

He didn't know his wife was back then.

The professor wouldn't believe it until he called her himself.

Oh, he was all shook when he left here.

Uh, can I use your phone?

One thin dime will do it, dad.

Yes, money is involved.

Um, about two years ago,

Ronald told me that it was imperative that he get a hold of $5,000 in a hurry.

I borrowed it from my parents.

How was this money used?

As a sort of campaign fund

to promote his appointment as Dean of the English Department.

It was only after Doctor Metcalfe was installed as Dean

that I found out that he'd spent the money paying his personal debts.

How did you learn that his fortunes had...

recently improved?

Friends wrote to me.

Mr. Mason, if that had been my $5,000, I would have forgotten about it.

But it's my parents' money,

and Ronald should have paid it back.

He refused?

Well, I haven't actually seen him yet--

[phone rings]

He phoned here yesterday, but I didn't speak with him.

It's for you, Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Hello.

Oh, yes, Paul.

There's no trace of Hewes.

And the professor's assistant in that test, Ollie Benson,

denies anything like the loaded gun bit ever happened.

What else?

There seems to be a witness to Mrs. Hewes' presence

in the professor's office yesterday.

Uh, hold on a moment, Paul.

Mrs. Hewes, were you at your husband's office at the university yesterday?

No.

I haven't been there in over a year.

Paul, meet me at Hewes' office right away.

Mrs. Hewes, do you know if there's any other woman in your husband's life?

Of course I don't.

It's been over a year since--

Well, as a matter of fact, Mr. Mason,

a woman called my office this morning, asking for Ronald.

Did she leave her name?

Yes, she did. It was...

Sally Sheldon.

Who is Sally Sheldon?

Two years ago, Dr. Metcalfe.

that young girl who died-- you remember.

The very beautiful one who took the sleeping pills?

Well, her name wasn't Sheldon. It was Monica something-or-other

Monica Lawrence.

Yes, but she had a sister, a married sister.

You must remember, don't you?

You're right, Laura.

Her sister's name was Sally Sheldon.

What I don't understand, Mr. Mason, is why is she looking for Ronald now?

[knock on door]

- Paul. - Hi, Perry.

A little homework?

These students' reports of Hewes' experiments.

I'd like you to go through them.

All of them?

Every last one.

Hold it, Perry.

What is it, Paul?

Lieutenant Anderson and Sergeant Brice.

I wonder when this became a case for homicide.

Perry, there are a couple of people waiting for you.

Mrs. Hewes one of them?

Yes, I called her, told her you wanted to see her.

She's waiting for you in the library.

The other one is a man, a literary agent.

He wants to see you about Professor Hewes.

We'll get to him in a minute.

First I want Mrs. Hewes to get a cab, go to your apartment,

and stay there until she hears from us.

Well, shall I show Mr. Estridge in?

No. I'll do that. Just get Mrs. Hewes out of here,

and please hurry. There isn't much time.

All right.

Mr. Estridge? Come in, won't you?

This is Mr. Paul Drake of the Drake Detective Agency.

- Here, sit down. - Thank you.

Nice of you to take time to see me.

I should have phoned, but I'm a friend of Professor Hewes.

My secretary tells me that you're a literary agent.

- That's right. - You represent Hewes?

As a matter of fact, I do.

He's been doing a little freelancing lately.

And very successfully.

Oh, well, then he told you.

No, Mr. Estridge. You told me.

I never was any good at keeping secrets.

As a matter of fact, he did write L'Affaire Annabelle.

Have you read it?

Not as yet.

When you do, you'll see why he had to use a pseudonym.

It's the documental-type experiences of a sweet girl undergraduate.

It smells, but it sells.

I've got another royalty check in my pocket right now, but where is the author?

[phone buzzes]

Excuse me.

Yes, Gertie?

All right, send them in.

What makes you think I'd know the whereabouts of the author?

When I talked to him on the phone yesterday,

he said he was meeting with you and Laura.

Now nobody can find him.

That just about sums it up. [knock on door]

Hi, Andy. You're looking well.

Oh, I feel fine, Paul.

A little slower than I used to be.

It seems we just missed you and Perry at Euclid University today.

Well, if I'd known you'd wanted to talk to me, Andy,

I would have waited for you.

This is Mr. Estridge.

Lieutenant Anderson and Sergeant Brice-- Homicide, Los Angeles Police Department.

I've been wanting to talk to you, Mr. Estridge,

but right now I'm interested in asking Mr. Mason

where I might find Mrs. Ronald Hewes.

You are representing her, aren't you, Perry?

She consulted me on a legal matter.

Having to do with her late husband's estate?

Late husband?

Found his body about two hours ago.

If you'd waited at the university, I'd have told you.

Any details?

Where can I find her, Perry?

I imagine I'll be hearing from her. Shall I have her get in touch with you?

That wasn't what I asked, but yes. Have her get in touch with me.

Mr. Estridge, we'd like to talk to you at headquarters.

Why, certainly, Lieutenant.

Mr. Mason. Mr. Drake.

She's on her way to my apartment.

Better call and leave word that she's to come right back here.

Are you going to surrender her to Andy?

No, but I'm going to advise that she surrender herself.

Might as well.

Once Andy starts looking for somebody,

sooner or later, he's going to find them.

You're right, Paul.

Huh?

Della, I would like you to buy a copy of a book called L'Affaire Annabelle,

a woman's overnight case, some extra clothing to put into that case,

and a pad of writing paper.

Well, here we go again. And what is it I have to do?

Just make sure you don't lose your shadow

Good evening.

Miss Sally Sheldon, please.

Just a minute. I'll see if she's in.

Give me Miss Sheldon's room.

No. No answer.

I guess she must've gone out.

Is her key in the box?

No. Then I guess she is in.

Maybe she's just not taking calls. Let's go up and see.

You two gentlemen together?

We are now.

Sergeant Brice-- Homicide.

A master key, please.

Thank you. Coming, Drake?

The Lieutenant wants her, Drake.

Sally Sheldon?

Mrs. Hewes. It's the same thing, isn't it?

Mason had her use a phony name to register.

Nope. Two different people.

Okay, then who's Sally Sheldon?

I haven't the faintest idea. Never laid eyes on the lady.

I assume Mr. Mason broke the news to you when he arranged this meeting?

I know my husband is dead, but that's all.

He was found in his house, murdered.

Exactly how was he killed, Lieutenant?

Stabbed in the chest.

Do you own a letter-writing kit, Mrs. Hewes?

A kit of pen, paper, envelopes?

Yes, it's a leather traveling set.

May I ask where it is now?

In my room, at the Metcalfes'.

And a letter opener?

Was that the murder weapon?

Better ask the District Attorney that.

Mrs. Hewes, we have a warrant for your arrest

on the charge of murder.

As a literary agent,

I was always on the lookout for new sources of material.

About a year and a half ago, I suggested to Professor Hewes that he do a book.

- And did he, Mr. Estridge? - Yes.

A novel, L'Affaire Annabelle.

And did Mrs. Hewes know about the success of her husband's book?

Why, yes. I think I may have mentioned it to her in a letter a month or so ago.

Mr. Estridge, as a matter of fact, you're still receiving royalty checks

on Professor Hewes' account, aren't you?

I would have handed one to him a week ago if I could have found him.

And what becomes of that check now? And of future royalty checks?

Well, I suppose I'll turn it over to the executor or administrator

for the benefit of next of kin.

Mrs. Hewes.

But didn't Mrs. Hewes divorce the professor almost a year ago?

There was an interlocutory decree.

In other words, Mr. Estridge, because Professor Hewes was killed

a few days before that divorce could become final,

Mrs. Hewes is the legal heir?

The legal heir of $90,000?

So I understand.

Well, somebody put the other clip, the one full of live ammo, in the gun.

But the Professor told me not to tell anybody about it.

Did the professor take any steps at all to find out who had tampered with his gun?

Well, he asked me if there was anybody in the office after he left.

And what did you say, Mr. Benson?

A guy from the bookstore was delivering a package, and a woman.

Did you know the woman, Mr. Benson?

I sort of thought it was Mrs. Hewes, but--

- Objection. - Sustained.

The witness will tell what he saw, not what he thought.

Your witness, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Benson, I gather you didn't see this mysterious woman in the office

well enough to identify her.

No. I-- I wasn't very close to her.

Then it could have been the defendant.

Isn't that an opinion, Mr. Mason?

Or it could've been a student?

That's right.

Or one of the secretaries.

Sure.

Or even Sally Sheldon?

Who?

No more questions.

Mrs. Hewes was our houseguest at the time,

which made for an uncomfortable situation.

Professor Hewes was a member of my faculty,

and both my wife and I were extremely fond of Laura.

Of course I knew that Professor Hewes was coming over at 3:30,

but I have no idea why.

What time did you arrive home that afternoon?

Shortly before the appointed time.

I wanted to finish some work and be out of the way.

But Professor Hewes never arrived.

No.

I'd quite forgotten about it until Laura returned about 4:15.

When Laura returned, was she marked in any way?

Yes. She had a bruise on her face, and her hand was cut.

She said she'd tripped and fallen while getting out of a cab.

And isn't it true that later that day,

she unexpectedly moved out of your house?

Yes. We were both quite worried for a while.

We couldn't understand why she had gone or where.

Did you subsequently find out where?

No.

The next we knew, she'd been arrested.

Mrs. Williamson, your house is right next door to the decedent's house.

- Is that correct? - Yes, that's right.

Would you please tell this court in your own words

what happened on the afternoon that Professor Ronald Hewes was killed?

Yes.

I was outside raking leaves--

you know, the lawn was just covered with them--

and I saw Mrs. Hewes go in the house.

Well, naturally, I was surprised,

them being divorced and everything.

Yes, I understand.

Now, did you see the defendant leave the house, Mrs. Williamson?

No. She was there when he got home later.

How can you be so certain of that?

He went in the house, and he left the door open for a minute or two,

and I heard him saying to her--

well, I mean, I couldn't help but hear him say it--

he said, "You shouldn't be here! Get out!"

- But she didn't leave? - No.

And he closed the door.

Well, anyhow, later, I had to be outside again,

and, uh, well, I noticed, there was no one home.

And you know, I got worried,

so I called the police.

Thank you, Mrs. Williamson.

Do you wish to cross-examine, Mr. Mason?

As I understand it, Mrs. Williamson,

your house is situated in such a manner

that you can comfortably watch the house of Professor Hewes?

Well, I suppose so, yes.

Well, is it possible that Mrs. Hewes might have left the house unnoticed by you

so that the woman who was asked to leave by the decedent

was, oh, Sally Sheldon or someone else?

I object to that, Your Honor.

That's incompetent, improper cross-examination,

and it assumes a fact not in evidence.

If the court please, on cross-examination, I have a right to ask leading questions

and to test the recollection of the witness by mentioning specific names.

I'm going to sustain the objection as to any specific name at this point,

but you can ask the witness if it isn't possible

the woman the decedent asked to leave was someone else.

Thank you, Your Honor, but I believe we've made the point.

I have no further questions.

There were obvious signs of a struggle in the living room.

What about the rest of the house?

All right, except for the bathroom.

Blood was splattered on the washbasin,

and one of the hand towels was bloodstained.

Was that blood the same type as that of the decedent, Professor Ronald Hewes?

No, sir, it wasn't.

Lieutenant Anderson, I show you now this letter opener, People's Exhibit 3,

which was found impaled in the decedent's body

and identified by the medical examiner as the murder weapon.

Were there traces of blood found on the handle of this letter opener,

- as well as on the blade? - Yes, sir.

Now, Lieutenant, you did a blood test on the defendant.

With what result?

The defendant's blood matched that found on the washbasin, the hand towel,

and the handle of the murder weapon.

Lieutenant, did you check the premises for identifiable fingerprints?

Yes. Aside from those of decedent and a cleaning woman,

we found fresh prints, a good many of them smudged,

on doorknobs, the bathroom mirror, and the handle of the murder weapon.

All prints were of the same person.

Who was that person, Lieutenant?

The defendant, Laura Hewes.

Yes, I was there that afternoon.

[sigh] Mrs. Williamson saw me going into the house.

But I didn't kill Ronald, Mr. Mason.

When I thought I heard him coming home, I ran out the back door.

That's why Mrs. Williamson didn't see you leave.

Yes.

But Mrs. Williamson heard Professor Hewes order someone out of the house.

- Who was that? - I don't know.

All right, let's take it one step at a time.

Why did you go there?

The fact Ronald had arranged for an attorney to be present

confirmed everything that Mike had written to me.

I needed proof about--

about that book and about any money he might have.

Now, where in the house did you expect to find that proof?

There's a file cabinet in his closet.

I didn't have a key to open it, so I-

I'm afraid I know what's going to come next.

I brought the letter opener to pry open the file.

- And-- - Go on.

Well, I had to stand on a chair to reach it.

The chair slipped, and I cut my hand on the letter opener when I fell.

And when you went to wash the cut on your hand in the bathroom,

you left the letter opener on the floor?

While I was in there, I thought I heard Ronald coming.

I was frightened, and I ran out.

Laura, think carefully.

Could it be that what you heard was something else,

someone else who had followed you there,

was inside the house, hiding, watching you?

Do you recognize this examination paper, Mr. Bertell?

Yes, it's the report of Professor Hewes' classroom experiment.

Written by you?

My name's on it.

Your Honor, I would like to read this report

for comparison with the actual events of that experiment.

If you'd pass it up here, Mr. Mason, the court would like to look at it first.

Well, this seems to be the worst piece of English composition I've ever encountered.

I agree, Your Honor. It is badly written.

But at the same time, according to the testimony of Ollie Benson,

it is a true recital of the experiment.

Now, Mr. Bertell, how do you account for writing such an accurate report?

I just wrote down what I saw, just like everybody else.

But it so happens that everybody else

reported at least some of the details incorrectly.

How is it that you're so particularly gifted in this respect?

I'm a post-graduate student.

I took the course once before, two years ago.

Were you accurate because you knew what was going to happen?

Because you put the clip of live shells in that gun?

I refuse to answer on the grounds that the answer might incriminate me.

Two years ago.

That's when Sally Sheldon was in school, wasn't it?

I don't remember anyone named Sal--

What about Monica Lawrence?

She's dead.

Why do you have to drag her name into this mess?

Mr. Bertell, didn't Monica Lawrence have a sister named Sally?

A sister you saw on the campus and recognized recently?

Yes.

And isn't Sally Lawrence's married name Sheldon?

Mr. Burger, it seems to me you should object to this.

Mr. Mason, your repeated introduction of the name Sally Sheldon into testimony

is quite improper.

If it please the court,

my only hope is to find Sally Sheldon.

I'm sure the court is well aware of the difficulty

a defense counsel may have in locating a key witness,

what with scant facilities and little time.

You mean you've built this woman up

just so the District Attorney's office would-- would get curious?

So the police would go looking for her?

Yes, Your Honor.

And since the District Attorney seems uncommonly slow

about entering this discussion,

I think it's very likely that he's already found Sally Sheldon.

Is that true, Mr. Burger?

Yes, Your Honor. As a matter of fact, it is true.

We just located Mrs. Sheldon.

And since she has no information which has any direct bearing on the facts of our case--

Mr. Burger, if you don't intend to call her,

the court feels defense counsel, who has been seeking her,

should be permitted to confer with her.

Mrs. Sheldon's testimony can have no direct bearing on the case at all.

But we'll call her, let Mr. Mason cross-examine her.

Yes. Yes, it's true.

The novel was based on Monica's term paper while in the Professor's class.

I had started out to help Monica,

but I ended up writing the whole thing myself.

A friend of mine saw me write it,

and I mailed a registered copy to myself before Monica submitted it.

Mrs. Sheldon, why didn't you file suit for plagiarism?

Well, my husband didn't know anything about the book.

He might have wondered which parts of the book were, well, about me.

But none of them were, honestly.

Did you also try to avoid any notoriety concerning your sister's death?

Yes.

Our parents are still alive,

and they didn't know anything about Monica, either.

But you see, I knew something that Professor Hewes thought was a secret.

I knew that he was involved with Monica, too.

How did you discover that, Mrs. Sheldon?

In a letter Monica wrote me,

telling me about frequent visits to a professor's house.

The letter specifically mentioned Professor Hewes?

No, no. Only by a nickname.

But when I called Professor Hewes by that name, he nearly fainted.

He never believed that anyone knew that Monica used to call him Graffy.

In addition to this information about Graffy,

did Monica Lawrence's letters name the father of her unborn child?

Yes.

Ned Bertell.

I was in love with Monica, sure.

And I admit I put those real bullets in the professor's gun.

But I didn't kill him with that letter opener.

Believe me, I didn't. I didn't!

Mr. Bertell, Professor Hewes was Monica's friend Graffy, was he not?

I heard him called all sorts of things but-- but never that.

No, he's not Graffy.

The shortening of a man's name

may be a middle name, such as Curtis?

Curtis Grafton Metcalfe.

Yes.

My close friends have often referred to me as... Graffy.

Was Monica Lawrence one of your closer friends?

That's ridiculous. I barely knew the girl.

Are you the one who secretly took certain students,

including Monica Lawrence and Ned Bertell,

to certain wild, drunken, off-campus parties?

Absolutely not.

It's ridiculous even to suggest I could be involved in such a thing.

I have here copies of Ned Bertell's academic grades two years ago.

The only thing that made it possible for him to graduate from the university

was a passing grade he received in your English class.

Now, you did give him that grade, did you not?

Yes.

Doctor Metcalfe, this is Ned Bertell's report on Professor Hewes' experiment.

Now, do you agree with the judge

on the present quality of his English composition?

His English then, as now, was atrocious.

He should have flunked.

But you didn't flunk him.

Why?

Because he knew your secret?

Mr. Mason, no.

I'm sorry, Doctor, but my client's life is at stake.

In L'Affaire Annabelle, there is constant reference to a beautiful woman,

a beautiful woman addicted to alcohol.

Is that the secret Ned Bertell knew-- the identity of that woman?

Mason, I beg you, she's tried so hard, so very hard--

Your wife Esther Metcalfe is an alcoholic, isn't she, Doctor?

Along with Ned Bertell,

Monica Lawrence, as she wrote her sister, visited Graffy's home often at night.

But it wasn't to see Graffy. it was to see Graffy's wife.

His unhappy, alcoholic wife, who, liking the two students,

secretly, and without her husband's knowledge,

made the mistake of taking them with her on her drunken sprees.

I was sick, confused. I didn't know what I was doing

After Sally Sheldon spoke to him, Hewes guessed the truth.

He knew you had a considerable income of your own.

Now, with his book profits threatened by Sally and by his wife,

and faced with possible legal action,

did he try to extort money from you by threatening to expose your past?

Everything I owned,

he wanted it all, every penny of it.

Did you tell Ned Bertell

that Professor Hewes was trying to extort money from you,

that he knew about the drinking parties,

about Bertell's involvement with Monica Lawrence?

Yes, she told me.

Oh, Ned, wait.

That was the first day after Sally--

Mrs. Sheldon came to town.

Ned must have gone wild with fear,

dreading Hewes' revelation about what happened between him and Monica.

Hewes could have shamed him, had him expelled.

I didn't know about this until after it had happened,

but putting the bullets in that gun was just immature panic, Mr. Mason.

Ned Bertell didn't know better.

But you did, didn't you, Mrs. Metcalfe?

It all started with me.

It had to end with me.

I went to Ronald, to plead with him.

But he wouldn't listen to me.

I refused to give him the money.

I told him I'd get a divorce

so he couldn't shame Graffy or hurt him or destroy his position.

He became furious, abusive.

He struck me.

And I-- I grabbed him to stop him.

We struggled. We fell to the floor.

He kept hitting me and hitting me and hitting me!

All of a sudden, I felt the letter opener near my hand.

And I picked it up...

and ohh!

Ronald was an arrogant, impossible man to live with,

a man with an insatiable ego.

Our marriage had fallen apart long before I had met Mike.

Laura was driving herself too hard,

supporting herself and trying to take care of her parents.

Is that why you told her about the book and the royalties?

She was legally entitled to the money.

That meant a great deal to her parents.

And you had--

Yes. I'd already asked her to become my wife.

Doctor Metcalfe is here.

Oh, show him in, Della.

Come in, won't you?

Mr. Mason, it's good of you to see me.

Laura, I have a message for you.

From Esther?

She begs you to forgive her

and to believe that she never would have permitted you

to be convicted for something she did.

I know.

It's been almost two years since she'd touched a drop.

She'd been doing so well, so very well.

Ever since that poor girl killed herself,

Esther seemed to face herself for the first time.

And in just a few days, Ronald Hewes ended all that.

No, not ended, Della.

She killed in self-defense.

We'll see to it that this nightmare is no more than a temporary detour.

We, Mr. Mason?

You did come here to retain my services, didn't you?

No sense in wasting time.

Suppose I go to see Mrs. Metcalfe right now.

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