Original subtitles

Excuse me, mister, but could you lend a hand to a guy who's down on his luck?

Just the price of a sandwich, sir. I haven't eaten since yesterday.

All right, come on, I'll buy you a meal.

I sure appreciate your offer, mister, but I can't go in a restaurant with you.

Why not?

I'm wearing a tie.

Now, if you'll just give me a half a buck.

You'll head for the nearest saloon, right?

Nothing to it.

Would you like me to buy you a meal? Not if I'm going to get a sermon with it.

I'll call you later.

Wait, wait, hold that cab. Hold it! I'm afraid you're too late. He's already got

a fare. Who was that woman? You were with her, weren't you? Who was she? A

friend of mine.

Where'd she go?

I'm afraid that's none of your business. Look, you don't understand.

She used to be my... I mean, I think I used to know... What's her name?

What? What do you think her name is?

Ruth. Ruth Sherwood.

Sorry, wrong party.

No, no, wait!

Maybe I am mistaken, but I'd like to make sure. Look, here.

Here, take my card.

And would you give her this, this woman, this friend of yours, and whatever her

name is, and have her call me?

I guess I could pass it on to her.

William Sherwood, huh?

Yeah, I live in Whittier.

Fine, fine.

Swell town.

Nice talking to you.

Good evening, sir.

Double scotch and a telephone.

Bill Sherwood.

Sitting at the Hotel Benson bar.

With a double scotch in front of me.

You're where? With what?

You heard me.

What do you have, sir? Nothing.

I'm looking for a friend of mine. He called from here about an hour ago.

Oh, yes, I know who you mean. He left about ten minutes ago.

You wouldn't have to know where he went.

Probably to his room. He's fine for his drinks.

Thanks.

Six months of your life shot to... Okay.

What happened?

I saw Ruth.

Hmm?

I saw Ruth.

Oh, fine.

Great. That explains everything.

Six months you're on the wagon, and then you're back on the sauce again because

you saw Ruth.

Okay, who's Ruth?

He wouldn't tell me your name.

He was lying to me. I know he was. I don't know why, but he was lying to me,

Harry.

It was her.

I'd recognize her anywhere.

We were married for five years.

Your wife?

You said she was dead. You said she was killed in a plane crash.

Nearly a year ago.

Thirty miles southwest of Chicago, all aboard were killed.

It was in all the papers, Harry.

All the papers.

There was even a photograph of Ruth.

She wasn't a blonde, then.

Man, you really are snaky. I wasn't drinking, Harry.

I didn't have a drink until after I saw her.

Wouldn't you do the same thing, Harry, if you saw somebody that had been dead

for nearly a year?

Yeah, I'd be bugged, but you said it was impossible. You know she's dead. It was

Ruth.

Did you talk to her?

No.

No.

I gave the man she was with my card.

I wonder if she'll call.

Look, buddy, I'm calling you. You've got to go home. Come on. Back to Whittier.

You can't take the big city. No, no, Harry. I can't do that. I've got a

here. I've got a meeting here tomorrow morning. Come on. Up into the bathroom.

Harry, wash your face. Come on.

Wash your face.

I'll take you home.

Operator?

Whittier. 9 -4 -3.

All right,

now what's he doing in my apartment? Look, I had to borrow her car to come

you. He's all right, Miss Kent.

I was more worried about my car than you anyway.

I suppose Harry called you from the hotel, too.

Mm -hmm.

Well, it was only after midnight, because I had nothing better to do. I

to walk over.

I told her that you were lonesome for her, and so you had a couple of belts,

that's all.

What Harry means is he didn't tell me why you backslid.

A complete lack of character, that's all.

Well, lukewarm baths will help.

Dana, thanks a little, huh?

I'd do the same for any dumb, hopeless love that I happen to be in love with.

Well, I can tell you somebody who's not going to love me in the morning.

Yeah, you.

My ex -boss, my new partner.

Oh, Dana, what's he going to say?

You know, the way Mr. Faulkner worries, I think it would be very unkind for

anyone to say anything about this.

Trouble is, Sydney's going to explode if I don't show up for that sales meeting

tomorrow morning.

Why can't I?

Sure I can. I'll be all right.

Bill. I'm all right now, Eric.

Oh.

I'm sure that's just a temporary condition.

You look lousy.

It is you, isn't it, Ruth?

I'm afraid you have the wrong name, Mr. Sherwood.

I'm Lynn Bowman.

Where is it you think we met?

San Francisco?

Seattle? St. Louis, 1959.

Don't you remember, Ruth?

Well, I'm afraid I've never been to St. Louis, Mr. Sherwood.

I'm strictly a West Coaster.

They say everybody has a double somewhere.

Don't you think that probably explains it?

Oh, I really don't think that would prove anything.

But it's been an interesting experience.

Wait.

Ruth, wait. Wait just a minute.

Happens all the time.

See, a person reminds you of someone.

It was her voice.

I was married to her for five years. Don't you think I know her voice?

Bill, get a hold of yourself. Don't crack up.

How could it possibly be your wife?

I don't know. I don't know.

Why, Mr. Mason?

Answer me that if you don't mind. Why am I persecuted? What have I done?

Am I a sinner? All right, I'm a sinner. But who isn't?

I think you're a very nice man, Mr. Faulkner.

Then why should I be tormented?

Why do I take a left into the company?

You took Bill Sherwood in with you because he's a good salesman. And

also needed his $15 ,000 investment.

No, don't remind me.

Mr. Sherwood hasn't started drinking again, has he? He must have.

Stone cold sober, would he see dead women walking?

Is this what you were looking at, this picture of his wife?

All right, so it don't make sense.

But he's your client, Mr. Mason. I represented Bill Sherwood in setting up

partnership.

But now it seems to me you should be seeing a doctor instead of a lawyer.

Well, my wife's brother is a head shrinker, and him I don't mind losing as

friend. But Mason wants the result.

If Sherwood is as sane as me, which ain't no recommendation.

You mean if Bill's wife really is alive?

I'll say it without jokes.

That $15 ,000 Bill invested in my business was insurance money from her

Now, you see why I'm upset?

What is this partner of mine you represent? Just a kook?

Just a lush who's seen blonde elephants?

Or maybe a guy who's trying to tell me...

He committed insurance fraud.

All right, Mr. Falconer.

I'll look into it.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Harry, what on earth?

The newspaper says that Ruth Sherwood was survived by a husband and a sister,

doesn't it?

Yes, here it is.

Maggie Malachy, St. Louis address.

Get a hold of Paul.

Maybe he can track her down.

I didn't keep you waiting. Just in a state of suspense, I couldn't help

wondering as to why we chose this place for a meeting. Like a couple of bomb

throwers. I'll explain in a minute. Step up to the bar, I'll buy you a drink.

Orange juice?

Screwdriver, without the vodka.

Sober fella, me, you know.

One orange juice, please.

I'm afraid I can't give the same assurance of my sanity.

Sidney seems to feel I should see his brother -in -law, the doctor.

Bill, do you have any doubts that it was your wife who was killed in that crash?

None at all.

Then the woman you saw?

I have no doubt about that either.

It was Ruth.

Any psychics in your family?

I had a nan who was a whiz with a Ouija board, but I never inherited any of it.

All right.

Tell me about your wife's sister.

Who?

Oh, Maggie.

A girl of drab plumage, operated a dress shop in St. Louis.

She moved to Los Angeles a year and a half ago.

Yes, I guess I did hear something about that.

Oh, now, wait a minute. You're not suggesting that the woman I saw was

Well, there was a general family resemblance, but nobody would ever

those two.

Well, the woman you saw was blonde.

I know.

And my wife, Ruth, used to have dark hair, as did Maggie. But you still can't

make a bird of paradise out of a crow.

Bill, there's a dress shop across the street.

Madame Louise.

Maggie? I made an appointment to see her.

I wish I had the other half of the screwdriver.

Maggie was never one of my greatest admirers.

Oh, not without cause, you understand.

Well, now, let's see what time has done to her.

Mr. Mason, there was nothing in what you told me on the phone to indicate you

were bringing someone with you.

You have no objections to seeing your brother -in -law, do you? It's hardly a

secret that I've always had objections to him.

Nothing has changed. That's not entirely true, Maggie.

Miss Malachy, will you tell me something about your sister, please?

Yes, I should be glad to give you the other side of the picture.

Ruth was a very beautiful girl, Mr. Mason.

High -spirited, friendly, and very popular.

Oh, I won't say she wasn't a little spoiled, but then that was only natural.

Yes, it often happens.

I was always the plain one, but I don't ever remember being envious of her.

I had a flair for designing and dressmaking and...

Well, one fairy princess is enough for any family.

And then she changed.

She married me.

You were never a good provider, Bill. That may sound unkind, but it's

nonetheless true.

In all fairness, Mr. Mason, Ruth should have married a rich man.

She wasn't used to living a budgeted life.

She lost that wonderful sparkle.

On top of that, Bill started to drink.

There may have been a connection, Maggie.

We all of us have our shortcomings.

But only a weakling falls into a hole.

Or a bottle.

If you wish.

About the plane crash.

Well, what about it?

Ruth had spent several days in Chicago after another quarrel with Bill.

And she got on the plane to come back, and the plane never reached St. Louis.

Well, really, Mr. Mason, it was in all the papers.

There's no question that Ruth was on that plane.

I don't understand.

Bill thinks he saw her last night.

Downtown. You saw her?

Well, I suppose if you're an alcoholic, anything is possible.

Maggie, I hadn't had a drink in six months.

But then you have no excuse at all, do you?

Really, Mr. Mason, how can a man of your reputation lend yourself to such a

gruesome business?

Mistakes have been made before, Miss Malachy.

Mistakes? But she identified Ruth's body.

I don't have a very clear memory about those days. I did whatever was

A plane crashes and it burns. If it'll help refresh your memory, Annie.

The airline finally sent me what was left of her luggage. Would you like to

it?

No, thanks.

Excuse me.

Miss Malick?

Leave me alone.

Please, just leave me alone.

Dana, I... Hear you, Mr.

Bell.

The boss in the office?

Yes, for the customer.

You tell him when he's not busy, I'd like to see him?

Dana, it's all here.

No more phantoms, no more ghosts, no more angels.

Took a little bit of a shock treatment, but it worked.

Oh, there was one more message.

A woman called. She didn't leave her name. She called while I was out to

A woman?

You can ask Mr. Faulkner, but... Well, he said the woman was a little

hysterical.

But that you would know who she was and that it was very urgent that you meet

her tonight at 11 o 'clock.

Where? Did you say where?

Red's Reef.

The bar and grill.

Oh, Bill, please don't be upset. It's probably just another customer. Leave me

alone.

think it's the same woman?

But hold on, I thought that was all in his head.

The young woman, I don't know.

But if he sits waiting in the bar someplace, Harry... Yeah, yeah.

Give me the name of the place.

Red's Reef.

Anything wrong with that drink?

What? It was likely to bring you something up. No, no, this is fine right

Thanks. How would you know? You haven't even paid. I'll get to it.

Okay.

You know you're going to get marked absent at the AA meeting tonight. I

know how to manage without us.

Yeah, if it ever occurred to you, I might not be able to manage without

Look, all this chasing in and around after you, it is nothing good for me.

sorry, Harry.

Now, who told you I was here?

What difference does it make?

Look, let's... Cut out of here. Nobody's going to show up. You're least of all a

dead wife.

Well, what about a live one, Harry? He called me. Don't you try to tell me it

wasn't her.

Dana thought so, and I know so.

Okay, okay, okay. Maybe it's the same girl you saw outside the Benson Hotel,

what difference does it make? Your wife is dead. Can't you get that through your

head? You're probably trying to play tricks on me. The only person playing

tricks on you is you yourself.

You're a psycho.

Maybe I'm just a dumb gasp. Here, take this and leave me alone, will you?

Go on, take it. You're entitled.

Take it and get out of here.

You need anything?

Yeah.

Bring me another.

Where were you?

Why didn't you meet me?

What is it you want?

Well, just don't sit there.

Why are you doing this? Move!

Yes, yes, I have it.

Where are you now?

Yes, I know the corner.

Yes, right away.

Look, we close in ten minutes.

Why don't you take him home?

Bill, have you been drinking?

No, I'm not drunk, and I'm not insane, Mr. Mason.

Is that a normal reaction?

To what?

To find out your wife isn't dead.

Only that she is now.

But that she hasn't been for all this time.

I know I don't sound too coherent.

But, Mr. Mason, that is Ruth out in that parking lot.

Had you arranged to meet her tonight?

She called my office.

And I waited for her at Red's Reef Bar.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And she never showed up. No.

So I decided to go home.

And that's when I found her.

Her head.

Mr.

Mason, what about the police?

Paul Drake's taking care of that.

All right, Bill.

Tell me what happened then.

Every move you made.

Well, I went out to look for a street phone.

I tried to look up a doctor in the book, but I couldn't.

So then I tore out to find help someplace else.

And I stopped and thought, she's already dead.

I thought I'd better call you.

No more service, Mac.

Well, Paul?

His wife isn't there. In fact, there's no one in that parking lot, dead or

alive. There isn't even a car there except yours, Mr. Sherwood. What is

gag? What are you trying to do to me?

Look, I told you I'm not drunk and I'm not insane.

She was in that parking lot. It was Ruth.

What kind of car was it?

I don't know.

A sedan, I think.

A rust -colored sedan.

A rental car. I looked on the registration to see if Ruth's name was

Acme rent -a -car.

They stay open all night. Maybe I can run it down.

Sure, I got a rented car, but I haven't used it since 5 o 'clock.

I mean, if it's been in some kind of an accident, I don't know anything about

it. So if you don't mind... Somebody else was driving it tonight?

That's possible.

I loaned it to a friend of mine earlier.

I've been playing poker here at the hotel all evening.

What's your name?

Did I say it was a woman?

I know it was, Mr. Cabot.

I'd just like to know who she is.

Why?

I mean, you've got to admit, this is a bit strange. You come busting in here at

2 a .m. with a lot of questions, but you don't give out a whole lot. Not just

because you have an ID that says you're... Suppose she was in an

They didn't run?

Could be.

Nah, that still doesn't do it.

If somebody had been hurt, the police would have been here.

If somebody's car smashed up, property damaged, they'd quick hire a private

You've got to do better than that, Mr. Drake.

Is your name Ruth Sherwood?

No.

Where have I heard that name before?

Oh, yeah, some character outside the Benson Hotel. I got his card here

somewhere.

Lynn swore she didn't know him, though.

Whoever Lynn is, I'll bet she lied to you.

Maybe she did me a favor.

Tell me one thing.

Is this big trouble?

It might be as big as murder.

All right, that does it.

Four four seven a Casino Road her name is Lynn Bowman and tell her lots of luck

This

case is as wacky as you say it is it means one final touch What does that

to have Lynn Bowman open this door?

If she does Paul you do the talking I'm not prepared

Guess no one's home, anyway.

Better not touch your lives, Paul.

Too many neighbors.

Well, that's the right place.

Address to Lynn Bowman.

Now, bring the matches over here, Paul.

Hey, this gal does all right for herself.

What are you looking for?

I want to see where he buys her clothes.

Madam Lily.

Same thing.

Paul, as fast as you can, start checking that St. Louis plane crash.

What's your idea?

Well, the number of casualties matched the plane's passenger list.

Let's see who might have died at Ruth Sherwood's place.

And why.

All right, don't move.

Don't worry, Sergeant. We won't. May I reach for my wallet? It says private

investigator. Yeah.

Looks more like a burglary to me.

My name is Mason. I'm an attorney.

We found the door open.

Do you know a woman named Lynn Bowman?

Nope. Do you?

All right.

Never mind the cracks.

You looking for Miss Bowman, Sergeant?

Traffic detail just found a rental car on a ravine.

She was in it.

What happened?

Apparently drove through the guardrail on the Hollywood Hills.

130 -foot drop.

You mean she's dead?

Yeah. Checking the address in her wallet. Thought there might be some

Yes, there is one, Sergeant.

A sister.

Maggie Malik.

It's her.

It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's Poor Ruth.

Why did she assume the name of Linbo?

She... No.

No, I can't.

I can't.

Andy, tell me why you pretended she was dead.

Somebody else is going to ask those questions.

Barry,

the next time you ask me a question, just bear in mind you're asking the

guy. What's the matter, Paul? Check on the plane crash, he says. Find out who

died in your wife's place on the plane.

But with his wife's luggage, remember?

Are you saying that Ruth quit places with another woman?

But why?

She was flying from Chicago to St. Louis.

She was going to... Sure.

Why has she been using the name Lynn Bowman ever since? Why did she dye her

hair? Why a million things?

Do you have some of the answers?

Perry, by the time I got a Chicago agency on the job, they found 200 cops

already on it.

The police and federal aviation are the guys that will have to solve your

riddle.

While I just sit here wishing I could remember things straight when I drink.

Such as finding dead women in parking lots.

But she was there, Mr. Mason. I got blood on my hands. I got... All right,

right. Take it easy. I didn't strike out entirely.

At least I got a rundown on this guy, Kabat.

He was her boyfriend, wasn't he?

Well, he tried to be, I guess. Dated her a few times.

Anyway, he came from Chicago, too.

When? A week or so after the plane crash.

His job is investigator for a bonding company.

Kabat's a detective?

His last assignment was a $200 ,000 bank robbery, which took place the same day

that plane took off.

You mean Ruth might be mixed up in something like that?

Oh, no, I can't believe it. At least it might take you off the hook.

Della, find out if Mr. Cabot is available.

Perry. It's all right, Dylan.

Sorry to interrupt, Perry, but I've just come from the coroner's office.

Your wife, Mr. Sherwood, alias Lynn Bowman, seems to have not only fatal

injuries, but marks of strangulation on her throat as well.

She... She was murdered, then.

I guess you're not surprised.

Andy, I've just learned something from Paul about the man named Cabot.

I know, Barry, I know.

But, unfortunately, it's your name on this warrant, Mr. Sherwood.

No, Mr. Berger. Her death was not caused by strangulation.

She died unquestionably as a result of the blows on the back of her head. But,

Doctor, she was gripped strongly enough about the neck to keep her quiet, to

keep her from crying out, for example.

Oh, yes, absolutely.

The other bruised marks I mentioned would confirm that sort of struggle. And

such a struggle, could someone so gripping her have cracked her head back

against some solid object with sufficient force to cause the fatal

fracture? A strong man could certainly do that, yes. A man in a drunken rage.

The outside top of the car door had actually been dented at the same points

where we removed the blood and hair samples I spoke about, both of which

the blood and hair of the deceased, of course.

Now, Doctor, perhaps you heard the fingerprint technician testify regarding

bloody fingerprints found on the car door and on the dashboard and the

wheel column inside the car.

He identified these prints.

As those of the defendant, William Sherwood.

Doctor, tell us, did you also examine the bloody fingerprints?

I did and was present during laboratory tests.

It was all the same blood, same type. The defeats.

And the stains found on the jacket and the handkerchief taken from the

next day? They were also the same blood type, same as his wife's blood.

Thank you, Doctor.

Mr. Mason?

Doctor, can you positively state that death was caused by her head striking

car? Well, there was certainly every evidence that... Or could she have also

been struck by some other object?

I'm not questioning the struggle, mind you.

Just asking if a person perhaps not strong or in a rage could have added the

fatal blow. Yes.

Yes, that could have happened, I suppose.

I testified, Mr. Mason, that when the woman called the office, I asked her

but she wouldn't give it to me. She was upset.

She sounded, uh, frightened.

But you knew what had been happening to your junior partner?

Couldn't you have guessed or asked if she was really his wife, Ruth Sherwood?

No. On me, she hung up.

At 11 o 'clock, she said he should meet her urgent in that bar.

That's all I know, Mr. Mason. Nothing else.

Mr. Falconer, when you accepted the defendant as your partner, in what

was your company?

I needed business.

I needed money to go ahead.

And how is business now?

Oh, that boy William, he's a shot in the arm.

Don't misunderstand.

Him I like.

We're full of new contracts, new deals, new plans for production.

But what's the condition of the company?

Extended, in the middle, out on a limb.

That's why the drinking again so upset me.

Trouble at a time like this, and a hundred deals can fall.

And you still need money?

It's a sickness.

Who doesn't?

Gosh, I didn't mean to get sore and leave Bill alone like that, but when

an alcoholic, it's not easy bouncing in and out of bars for a buddy.

Didn't he also claim that he paid you to leave him alone there waiting for the

woman? Yeah, I took some, but I don't earn it like I used to, and the past

couple of days chasing him has caught me. You and the defendant have been

buddies in the AA for quite some time, haven't you, Mr. Nance?

Well, it wasn't until after I got fired out of a trucking job in San Francisco

that I finally got a hold of myself, and when Bill showed up in Whittier 2, new

to meetings, he said, let's hold hands.

So I get a couple of nights a week after that. Then you have spent a great deal

of time with him, as a matter of fact.

Tell us, Mr. Niles, what did he say to you about his wife during those long

nights when... Your Honor.

Nothing. Nothing bad about her. Bill never said anything bad about anybody.

is not the kind of guy who could kill.

All right. All right. That's all.

I'll withdraw the question.

Now, think hard.

At what time did you leave the defendant alone at Red's Reef? Search me.

But I got home about 11 .30. Figure it out for yourself.

He had one shot, and then he had five doubles.

You can't drink them fast.

Not even a guy like him. Then he waited there alone for quite some time, in

other words.

Until quarter past 12, I'd say.

Yeah, that's right. It was a quarter past 12.

Cross -examine, Mr. Mason.

I have no questions for this witness, Your Honor.

But I would like to ask for a ten -minute recess.

I don't know. I couldn't remember everything. I didn't want to lie to you,

but... When you telephoned me, the clock beside my bed said exactly 1 .30. All

right, yes, there is kind of a gap there.

It's all you can drive a truck through.

From 12 .15 to 1 .30 is time enough to kill someone, wreck a car, get back to

Yale for help, and an alibi.

Just wait till you hear Hamilton Burger saying that.

Mr. Mason, will you please listen to me? Will you please listen?

I told you I tried to call a doctor, remember?

Well, the reason I couldn't was my hand was fumbling on the dial. I couldn't

even read the print of your number.

So I went across the street, some other place for a drink.

But honest, Mr. Mason, honest, you've got to believe me, I didn't take it.

For the first time in my life, I stopped right in the middle and I made myself

walk, walk, walk.

Oh, Lord, how did I ever tell you all that?

Quite a price, isn't it?

To stop drinking and send yourself to the gas chamber?

Mr. Mason, I didn't kill her. I didn't.

What about all that other stuff?

That new stuff of Mr. Drake?

The way Ruth acted?

The other people she knew?

Aren't you going to bring any of that up?

I'm afraid they'll beat me to it, Bill.

I knew Ruth was in Los Angeles, of course.

I knew she was using the name Lynn Bowman.

I helped her make it up, as a matter of fact.

Why did you do that, Miss Malachy?

Well, isn't it obvious?

She didn't want her husband to find her.

It was her business. I wasn't going to interfere.

And that's why you lied to her husband and to Mr. Mason when they came to your

shop asking about Ruth?

Well, I'm sorry about that, but I hadn't anticipated such a... such a thing

happening.

I didn't know what else to say.

But how did you feel about people thinking your sister had died in that

crash? Well, not very good, obviously.

But there was no other family to hurt by lying.

I'm sorry, Bill, but Ruth simply hated you. She told me if I didn't do exactly

what she said, she'd never speak to me again.

She'd never see me again.

Now, Miss Malachy, to clarify this whole situation, would you please explain to

the court how your sister happened to avoid that plane crash?

Well, she meant to fly to St. Louis.

We had our ticket and everything.

And then just before she boarded the plane, she went into the washroom.

There was a young woman there, having hysterics, sobbing her heart out.

So Ruth told me they'd gotten a conversation.

This other girl was coming to the coast.

Oh, she got mixed up in some love affair and realized at the last moment that it

was all a mistake.

Well, Ruth had plenty to cry about, too.

Coming home to an alcoholic she couldn't get rid of. To a man she should never

have married in the first place.

So when this girl suddenly said, why not trade?

Why not switch tickets?

Well, that's how it happened.

That's exactly what they did.

They didn't have time to change the luggage, I guess, and that was the only

identification that wasn't burned.

Miss Malachy, did your sister ever mention the name of that woman? The

with whom she changed places?

Edie. He just spoke of her as Edie.

Yes, Edie. Edith Ross.

She'd been employed for two years as assistant teller at the Chicago Great

Bank. And how did you become interested in this Edith Ross woman, Mr. Caban?

Well, when I was assigned the case, the bonding company wanted me to check into

the employees, naturally.

I discovered that this Edith Ross had quit her job a couple of weeks before

robbery, but she'd been in and out of the bank visiting after that.

I also found out she had made plans to visit California. She had plane and

reservations. Do you think this Edith Ross woman was actually involved in a

affair?

Well, if she was a part of the robbery, she must have had a professional

accomplice, but no, she wasn't exactly the romantic type.

I'd say anything she told Ruth Sherwood in the washroom was just plain acting or

maybe panic. There were policemen all over the Chicago airport.

Now would you clarify for us, please, your own subsequent actions?

Well, I figured Edith Ross was at least worth a trip to L .A. for questioning.

When I got here, I discovered somebody had used her plane ticket and hotel

reservation for one night.

The only trouble was the hotel people gave me a description that didn't fit

Edie. So from there on in, it was nothing but legwork.

I finally tracked down this Lynn Bowman.

and found out he was a friend of the Malachy woman.

I also tripped on to the fact that Miss Malachy had a sister who supposedly died

in a plane crash, but her face sort of resembled a slim bowman.

So I put two and two together, and I figured I was on the right track.

And then you struck up an acquaintance with the deceased.

Yes, I dated her several times.

She'd meet me downtown. She was a girl who liked a good time, but I didn't tip

my hand.

If she was a part of the robbery, well, that's when I dreamed up the idea of

having her bump into her husband.

Wait a minute. You arranged this?

Yes, I did.

When I discovered Sherwood lived in the area, I figured this was the way to

confirm her identity and also throw a little care into the lady, too.

And what did you do, Mr. Caban?

I took her to the Benson Hotel where I learned Sherwood was attending a sales

meeting. Well, he saw similarity, I guess, but the girl, she didn't even bat

eyelash. She even laughed about it later and said, who was that creep?

And I guess she felt sorry because she called him and told him she never even

heard of any Ruth Sherwood.

Mystic at that. Don't tell me after all your painstaking investigation.

That's right, Mr. Berger. After all my hard work, I goofed. She had me fooled

completely. I thought I got the wrong dame. And did you ever see her again?

No. But you loaned her your car.

Sure, why not? I had no need for the car or the girl anymore.

As a matter of fact, I was packing to leave for Chicago the next day when I

learned the real truth.

The real truth, Mr. Caban?

That I'm a lousy detective.

I'm not doing so well myself, Eric.

Nothing more from Chicago?

Nothing more on Ruth Sherwood's source of income? What about safe deposit boxes

and savings accounts?

Nothing. And Maggie Malachy?

Just the credit record I gave you. We should leave, Paul. I'm going to stop at

couple of bars this evening.

Well, now we're getting to... Why, you visit the real estate board. Huh? And

chiefs, did you?

Perry, what in the name of... Wait a minute. Perry.

I got it.

Mr. Cabat.

Do you smoke?

Huh? This is a cross -examination.

Mr. Cabot, I'm allowed to ask you questions?

Well, sorry, sir. No, as a matter of fact, I don't smoke.

Why do you need matches, then? To light your way in the dark, perhaps?

Your Honor.

If it please the court, I'll show the relevancy of this in a moment.

Well, you better do it quickly, Mr. Mason, and go on.

I show you this match cover, Mr. Cabot.

Do you recall giving it to my investigator, Mr. Drake?

Drake?

Oh, sure, in my hotel room.

Well, I'd been playing poker that evening, and, you know, you pick those

up to light somebody's cigarette.

I'll show you another match cover.

Also rather distinctive in design.

In fact, an exact duplicate, wouldn't you say?

Yeah, I guess so.

Then both match covers probably came from the same place, wouldn't you agree?

I could have, I guess, but I... My point is this.

I saw Mr. Drake pick this one up in Ruth Sherwood's apartment.

Your Honor.

I've only permitted this line of questioning so far.

I am the one who permits the questioning, Mr. Berger. Go on, Mr.

When did you pick up your matches from the apartment, Mr. Cabot?

If it will help you to recall, we were there a couple of hours after the

The apartment had been ransacked by someone.

Look, I dated Lynn or Ruth, whoever she was.

Maybe I did pick up matches there sometimes, but that doesn't mean... But

you testify that you always met downtown for your dates?

Those matches could be sold in 5 ,000 different places.

Maybe. But now can you tell us what happened to the $200 ,000 taken from

Chicago bank last year?

Mr. Mason, the police know more about that than I do. The money could be

scattered anywhere.

The bills weren't marked.

Besides, I worked for the bonding company, remember?

Yes, I remember.

So your only interest is in protecting possible loss of any employee bond on

Edie Ross, is that correct?

Yes, that's all.

Then why haven't you submitted an accurate expense account for your

investigation? What? Your Chicago office informed me that your expenses here

have been quite moderate in proportion to a job of such size.

But my own investigator suggests that you've really spent a great deal more

you've reported.

Well, I don't like to pad an account with my personal fame. You mean you've

spending your own money on this job?

Why?

Because you hope to grab hold of much bigger money?

No, I mean...

Look, any detective hopes to collect a bonus in case he does find missing

Collect a bonus or keep the missing money himself.

What's your theory, Mr. Kabat, that the $200 ,000 came to Los Angeles and Edie

Ross' luggage?

Luggage which must have been claimed by the deceased?

All right, maybe I did think that once, but... There was no other reason for

your seeing so much of the deceased, was there?

I don't see how that has... No other reason for ransacking her apartment that

night.

Do I have to ask for a recess, Mr. Gabat, so the police may go over the

apartment again for your fingerprints?

So they can check your poker game alibi?

All right, yes.

Yes, I did go there, but I didn't find anything. Why did you go?

Why did you take such a chance?

It wasn't because I knew she was dead, if that's what you mean.

I... I discovered that she made a date to meet her husband.

She... I hadn't been fooled by her yet.

I was worried that maybe I pushed her too far because she was getting panicky.

So when I was sure who she was the night before, I just came out and asked her

about the money.

So I went out to that bar, too, Red's Reef.

When she didn't show up, I suddenly realized she could be halfway out of

You see, I didn't know she was dead. I didn't kill her. Why didn't you tell the

police the entire story, Mr. Cabot? Do you still think you know where the money

is?

She had no big bank accounts, no safe deposit boxes. Where do you think it is,

Mr. Cabot?

After all, don't you consider yourself the only one who figured this whole

out?

Yeah.

Yeah, I was the only one till now.

Where, Mr. Cabot?

Well, her sister has a dress shop.

She's been expanding.

That takes money, see?

So, I figure maybe her sister.

That's a lie.

I never even heard of that money.

I never got one penny from Ruth. It's my pleasure.

You're lying. You're lying. You're lying. How dare you say that about me?

was my sister.

It's all right, Miss Malachy.

As Mr. Cabot himself stated, he's not a very good detective.

Because whoever killed Ruth Sherwood could have choked the information out of

her and known exactly where to look.

So who other than you could have determined where to find Ruth in the

place?

Well, how about a supposed alcoholic?

Who I discover often takes just a single drink when he's in bars alone.

Or a supposed former truck driver who has apparently never joined any union.

Who are you really, Harry?

Aren't you the one person who could have tracked this case even better than

Cabot? No. You got it all wrong.

Aren't you Edie's professional accomplice? Aren't you the bank robber

Then Ruth actually had all that money.

She found it in Edie's suitcase, but still afraid to spend it, I guess.

They found a Santa Barbara locker key in Harry's room.

He admitted that he took it from your wife's keys.

After he left you in the bar, he ran smack into her outside. The woman he'd

looking for all these months.

She really was panicky. Maybe even coming to you for help after the pushing

around Cabot had been giving her.

That's when Harry killed her?

I don't believe that was his intention, but he was desperate.

He told her he knew she had the money and...

Forced her to tell him where it was.

But he choked too hard.

Hit too hard.

It must have happened just before you came staggering out.

Well, at least he didn't blame it on you, Bill.

No, then he dumped the car in a ravine, figuring that you were too loaded to

remember what you'd seen.

All that time he spent hoisting me on the wagon was just in hopes that I would

lead him to her, huh?

Cabot followed her, Harry followed you. Finally, the circle was complete.

Just because he's a bank robber and a murderer doesn't mean there's anything

wrong with that wagon, you know.

Well, the whole thing's left me just a little bit shaky.

Well, come on, everybody.

It's on me.

Bill.

Well, just a little screwdriver. We'll split it.

William.

You have the vodka.

I'll have the orange juice.

Ladies.