Original subtitles

You'd run west, you'd crash.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

You want a bunch of hit snow?

You want a bunch of hit wind?

You want a better hit of cow?

Buffalo, man, buffalo.

The gangway engines were coming through the pass.

Icicles is what you'll get.

Engines while icicles run off their hoes.

Icicles running off their windshields. Funny all there is to hit on a night

this is a darn full holiday tourist.

I will not stop.

If you ever, ever put on another scene like that one in the motel dining room.

I only said grandmother's dying.

That's all.

Did I do anything but point out how many times she's died these past five years?

I merely remarked what a lovely place Denver is when the streets are below

how important my lecture in Albuquerque was to have been and how much I enjoyed

canceling it.

Yes.

I heard you cancel it.

You what?

I heard you had phone call.

Canceling your engagement in Albuquerque.

Oh.

Well, Francis, I don't know what little trick your imagination is playing on you

now, but...

The Albuquerque Women's Art League is headed by some dreadful creature

Jill, darling.

Jill, darling.

I'm so sorry I can't go.

Jill, darling. Jill, darling. Jill, darling.

You think I was talking to someone named Jill, eh?

Let's see.

Jill Fenwick, I suppose?

You think I was planning some frightfully illicit little rendezvous

Albuquerque, is that it?

Francis, I said, is that it?

Francis, how many times do I have to tell you that Jill Fenwick is simply a

sculptress I happen to know?

And in La Jolla, not in Albuquerque.

Answer me, Francis.

Why did you hear the sound of you imagining things again?

Francis, will you please?

I won't answer you.

I won't even talk. I won't even listen.

Stop it.

You want to go entirely out of your mind?

Now, Francis, you know what I wish you? You wish I was dead.

Francis!

Well, Sam, I ought to be running out there.

Thank you.

And thanks for coming down this street instead of... Oh, that's okay,

sweetheart. Just come back and paint my picture sometime, huh? I will.

Well, bye -bye.

Hello, Dr. Stark. Betty Castor, you little darling. Come in, come in.

What a sight for tired eyes.

And prettier than ever. I got you don't trip.

I got your message.

I mean, I came as quickly as I could. We had our last class this morning and I

don't have to be at work until four o 'clock. Of course, I knew I could count

you. Here, this little chamber isn't quite so tomb -like.

Oh, but if you knew the trouble in locating a house in Los Angeles with

enough for my books and paintings.

I brought some of my sketches.

Maybe I shouldn't have, but... Oh, Dr. Sark, you were so right in telling me to

come up here. You know, they tell me at art school that it may be only just

another year or two before I'm actually able to support myself by... Of course,

of course, and I'm anxious to see your work. But how are you supporting

yourself? Well, just slinging hash again, I'm afraid.

And what about friends?

Surely you have an endless string of doting young men. No, no, no, no, of

not. I really want to be an artist.

But...

Well, I'm still all alone in the world, if that's what you mean.

But I don't care. These last few months have been so marvelous and so wonderful.

And you've been pretty marvelous and wonderful yourself, Betty.

And still quite the best girl Friday I've ever had.

Dr. Stark, how can you say that? All I did was run errands and type up all your

lecture notes wrong.

Say, I'll bet the room right above this one has good lighting. Of course it has.

And plenty of space for you to spread your things out in.

Because you'll have time to study. Lots of time. And I can help you.

What? Look, what is it? A couple of weeks before the next semester at art

begins, so... Dr. Stark, what are you talking about? I need you. I need help.

I've never lived in Los Angeles before.

And the housekeepers they've tried to send me have all been hopeless. Oh, not

that you'd have to keep house, mind you. We'll hire all the help you want. And

I've already engaged a cook named Martha.

But I need someone I can trust.

Someone who'll be here all the time. Who'll take orders when I give the move.

You want me to live in your house?

To help me take care of my wife.

To take care of Francis.

Oh. Well, did I say something wrong?

Betty, if there's any reason you... No, it's just that... Well, I didn't realize

you were married, that's all.

Oh, good heavens.

Didn't I ever mention... Well, I hope you don't think I'm the sort of a man

would hide his marriage, Betty.

It's simply that... Well, for many years now, Francis hasn't been too well.

Hasn't been able to travel with me.

Now, well...

Since the accident, poor thing, the doctors won't even let her out of her

She had an accident?

Six weeks ago.

I almost lost her.

I almost lost the whole meaning of my life.

But you're not afraid of the mouse, are you, darling?

Mouse.

Isn't that what they call it?

The doctor says that that's because his bone here is still bruised. That's what

makes my beauty so absolutely haunting.

But I don't feel anything, just the tape around my ribs.

And that's because Philip says I have weak lungs.

Can you imagine?

Just a couple of little cracks, and now they tell me I've always been Camille

and I didn't even know it.

And now Philip tells me I have to be treated like some poor little withering,

wispy flower.

I thought you might like to ask me some questions, Frances.

Please, wait a minute, Mrs. Stark. I really don't know anything about

so maybe... Oh, but I simply love nurses, don't you?

They always smell so dreadfully clean.

I'm perfectly all right. I don't even see why I can't get up and run around

manage things myself.

Well, now, let's see.

You say your name is Betty?

Yes.

I'm 22.

I mean, um, I can type and I can take a little shorthand.

When I did work as a maid once, I guess I've done about everything since my

parents died.

You there, look out!

I can't move!

The truck died!

He's inside!

All right, all right, no one was hurt.

Stop it. Stop it.

I don't think... Betty!

Let go!

It's all right.

Ah, Miss Nightingale. And how's our little patient today?

Hello, Mr. Bell.

Those are lovely flowers.

Freddy, please. No one ever calls me anything but Freddy.

With or without adjectives.

Well, I'm afraid Mrs. Stark is asleep right now.

Nonsense. She was asleep yesterday.

Besides, these are for you, not Francis.

Well, thank you very much.

Why don't you go in and find yourself a vase now? I'm only going to stay a

moment. No, please. I'm sorry.

A guardian of the gay day.

Well, I suppose poor dear cousin Frances was upset over those naughty stories I

told her the other day. And now she's told you.

No, please.

It's just that Dr.

Stark feels that she tires so easily. You must understand. I understand quite

well, my dear child.

You've been hired by that insane, vicious husband of hers.

To keep Frances from the people who really love her. Mr.

Phil, Dr.

Stark happens to be about the finest man I have ever known. And I am quite sure

that both his and the doctor's judgment... And for heaven's sake, don't

drivel like every other stupid female he's taken advantage of.

Now, the point is, I'm here for the East on a business trip. Now, I can't

prolong it too long.

And surely someone from back home must see that poor cousin Francis is taken

care of before.

Mr. Fell, I happen to know that until day before yesterday, you hadn't even

telephoned Francis. Not even to borrow money since before they were married.

that was over 12 years ago.

I'm sorry to have to say things like this, but I'm just doing what I've been

told. All right, all right, you win.

I'll go quietly.

And you can keep the flowers, my dear. You deserve them.

Well, I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Fell.

Nonsense. I'll be back.

And just pray that he doesn't make you really sorry someday.

All right, all right.

Hello.

It's you, darling.

How did you get this number?

All right, but I told you never...

Well, you'll just have to wait like I said.

Jill, you'll simply have to wait.

But I... I can't give another lecture in the East until my wife is better.

Of course I won't leave her alone, not at a time like... Oh, what's the matter

with you boys?

Can't any of you act like lecture tour management instead of a bunch of common

agents? Now get this through your head.

Money is not that important.

That's right, Jillison, baby, the answer is no.

Betty.

I thought you went out with Martha to help with the shopping.

Well, yes, but we had to come back because I forgot this.

I noticed last night that one of Mrs. Stark's prescriptions was almost empty,

I thought maybe I could save you a trip.

Betty, you're too good to be true.

But I'll handle the nasty jobs.

The long errands, the waiting for prescriptions.

Well, I'm sorry if I... Don't be sorry about anything.

I'm the one who ought to be sorry around here.

Maybe because I'm not younger.

Now run along.

Or you won't be back in time for me to help you with that beautiful pastel I

noticed up there.

I don't know what to tell her.

Tell her, thank you for the get well card.

Kiss your poodles for me. Anything.

Ask Phil if you'll know.

You must have a lot of nice friends in Philadelphia.

I suppose so.

Once upon a time.

Well, it must be awfully lonesome for you being stuck out here with just

and me. I mean, on the days when Dr. Stark does have to go away.

Would you prop my foot up for me, dear?

Couldn't we finish this later?

Mrs. Stark, I just couldn't help noticing in some of those letters that,

some of your old friends don't exactly appreciate Dr. Stark as much as...

Of course not.

And you know why?

Because I've been so horrible.

Oh, yes, I used to make dreadful scenes.

I used to be suspicious all the time.

I... Ben.

Don't ever doubt the man you love.

When I think of the awful things I've said about Philip that weren't true.

And now I... I realize that all the time it was... Really me.

Not him.

I've always been sick.

And poor patient Philip.

He wouldn't do anything to hurt me.

He does love me, doesn't he, Betty?

And he does know what's best for me, don't you think?

Yes, of course.

It's time for your pill, ma 'am, Mrs. Starr.

Frightful. Just frightful.

Don't you think she looks frightful, Henry? Well, search me. I barely met

Frances. And Sarah only remembers her as being sick as a child. I just don't

mean the accident. She seems to get worse and worse every year. She's like a

trap bird.

What's the matter, Freddy?

Are you still sore because she wouldn't loan you money last spring?

What? I'll have you know that I haven't even talked to Francis. Don't worry.

I won't tell her husband.

She wrote Sarah a very funny letter about how you sneaked into the house

year.

How about a whiskey, dear? You think you could find us something to drink?

Yes, sir. Of course.

Henry, my only concern is with the future, not the past. I want to know how

and Sarah intend to help poor cousin Francis.

Freddy, you are a heel.

Now, why don't you admit it? Your only concern is Grandmother Milburn's money,

right? Now, see here... You've always hated this guy, Philip, because he stole

your only relative with Dole.

And now that Francis is really loaded and Grandmother's finally dead, oh, boy,

how you come a -running.

Of all the... Two million dollars for that kind of money, Freddy.

You'd strangle your own mother.

I don't understand you, Henry.

Why, your own wife is a Milburn. Do you enjoy seeing the Milburn fortune?

Oh, of all of it, Freddy.

Who cares?

I'll make my own living, thank you.

Oh,

I think that's a perfectly marvelous idea for her. Yes, it has the same

beautiful high air as Mexico City, you know. Yes, yes, of course.

But you still will be able to get away every now and then, won't you? At least

for one teeny -weeny lecture.

Don't you worry. I'll be there next month.

Oh, good. I simply promised the girls.

Well, we're about to sit down to have a drink, Sarah, if you'd like to join us.

Oh, no, we don't. The last thing in the world poor Frances needs is a lot of

noisy relatives around.

Come on. Out we go, all of us. Yes, sir.

Oh, she's so lucky to have you, Philip.

Thank you.

Nemours are such dreadful creatures, don't you think?

I don't know. I guess so.

Dr. Stark, that woman said something about Mexico City.

Oh, yes.

I found the nicest, quietest place down there. And I think Francis will be a lot

happier. Out in the country, amongst all the flowers.

Oh, you can stay here in the house as long as you like. And I plan on coming

quite often, so... No.

It's just I was thinking that, well, won't she be more alone down there?

I mean, it seems to me that with all the good doctors we have right here in Los

Angeles... But it was the doctor's idea, Betty.

You look tired, my dear.

What you need is a night off, hmm?

Yes,

I know all about them. They're quite common.

Well, I, um, I found this note in this man's desk, you see.

It was from a lawyer or something dated years ago.

Oh, Miss Street, I know it isn't very nice to pry into other people's affairs,

but... Well, you did say in that talk that you gave at school that a legal

secretary is supposed to be very confidential. Of course, Betty.

And I can certainly find out all you want to know about the other names, the

doctors... I just didn't know anyone else to ask, that's all.

But maybe if you told me a little more of what it is you're really concerned

about... Miss Street, please.

I just wanted to know... All right, Betty, never mind.

Now...

Reciprocal wills means when either party dies, the other party inherits.

It's as simple as that.

So if a man and his wife both had them, then... Well, let's say, um... If you

were writing a story about a woman who inherited some more money of her own,

well, if anything happened to her, then would her husband get all that money,

too? Of course.

He gets everything she owns at the time of her death.

Hey, what is this?

You two plotting a murder or something?

Harry, this is Miss Betty Caster.

I'm sorry.

I thought you were a friend of Della's who just dropped by to chat.

Yes. Yes, that's all it is.

I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Mason.

I'm sorry if I took up too much of Miss Street's time.

Betty, why don't you just sit right down and tell your troubles to Mr. Mason?

He's really quite good.

No. No, no, it's all a mistake.

I mean, you just made me realize what awful things I've been thinking about.

About someone who's really the most wonderful person in the world.

He is.

I know he is.

He just has to be.

Jill, come on then.

Oh, you beautiful one.

Look, I told you to stay in the hotel room. I couldn't wait. Not one more tiny

little second.

Oh, Philip, if you only knew what these last two months have been.

No, no, no, not in public.

I will, too.

Did you buy the tickets?

I'm sending it down on a private plane.

I'll go later, of course.

Oh, that hurt me.

And then how long?

Don't stop that. Come on now. Come on. How long before I can ask you to marry

me? Come on.

Yes, this is a Stark residence.

Who?

Oh, Mr. Mason.

Miss Castor, are you alone?

Well, yes, I guess the cook's already gone home. I know you'll think we're

prying, but I've done some fast checking on the few things you told my

secretary, and I think we should get together right away.

This Philip Stark, from whom you work, is the art critic and lecturer, right?

Yes, but... His wife then is the Frances Stark who recently inherited some two

million dollars?

Mr. Mason, I really don't think that I should... You also mentioned the names

some medical doctors. One was Dr.

Robertson, a young GP in your area.

Yes, but he was only here to re -bandage Mrs. Stark's ankle.

And also Dr.

Maurice Frederichaus.

Well, I think that was his name.

Yes, yes, it was. There doesn't seem to be a doctor by that name in the Los

Angeles area.

Oh, but there must be.

I mean... He was only here once, but he was the one that talked about her lungs.

I'm sure he's the man that suggested Mrs. Stark go to Mexico.

Betty, the registry checked every possible spelling, and there's simply no

licensed physician, let alone a specialist in the whole state of

that name.

Well, maybe this is all a mistake.

Maybe you're alarmed about nothing.

Shh, wait.

Betty, I think you should meet me right away at... No, wait, I have to go now.

Mrs. Stark?

Is that you?

Mrs.

Stark, are you awake?

Please wake up.

An hour?

It was over an hour between the time you saw him downtown and the time you

reached the house?

Maybe even more. I don't know.

I had to wait for the bus and I didn't have enough money to take a taxi. Here

you go. Thank you.

All right.

But after you saw his body, you ran straight out of the house. All I could

of waiting for that bus was what a little pinhead.

What a blind little pinhead, I bet.

Yes.

He's right here.

Paul?

What did you find out? They've got it.

Somebody's already reported the murder.

Oh, without revealing anything.

Can you manage to find out... All the death report shows is that he was hit

the head with a blunt instrument, but... Hold it.

Does the name Martha Glenhorn mean anything to your girl?

Martha? Of course, Martha's the cook.

But I told you she'd already gone home before I got there. What about her,

All right, thanks.

Betty, I want you out of here.

Della will take you home with her.

Try to get some rest.

What? What did he say?

The cook saw a young woman running out of the house.

Hysterical. Blood on her dress, on her hands?

Well, yes, I washed it off at the service station, but where on earth was

to have seen all that?

I don't know, but put it out of your mind for now.

I don't want you to say one word to the police until later.

Just do what Della tells you.

No, I won't run away. I won't hide anyplace.

Don't you understand? It's poor Mrs.

Stark that's important.

What's happened to her, Mr. Mason?

He was going to kill her. You know he was going to kill her. Now, don't worry.

We'll be looking for Frances Stark, all right?

But it's my fault if she's dead right now. It's my fault for being such a

stupid.

Betty, hasn't it occurred to you why she may be missing?

Hasn't it occurred to you how much reason she had to kill her husband?

Francis committed murder.

No, no, no, Mr. Mason.

Why not, Mr. Thomas?

It was a struggle.

I understand the blow could have been struck by a woman.

Her clothes, her suitcases were all gone from the house.

Yes, that's what people say, but... Well, maybe the worm finally turned. I

know. But the point is, Mr. Mason, I barely have met Frances.

I don't really know anything about her.

Or Philip.

And yet you came all the way down from Seattle just to visit them.

Well, of course, that was my wife's idea.

You see, Sarah is the executor for her great -aunt's will, and she felt she at

least ought to pay a call.

That's the will which gave Frances Stark two million dollars.

I suppose it might have gone to your wife instead.

No, no. You see, Sarah is much farther out on the family tree.

And besides, Mr. Mason, we don't need any more money.

What about Mr. Fell?

He's the closest relative to Francis, Doc, isn't he, first cousin?

Sure, but on the other side entirely.

Yeah, Freddy's related to Francis, but not to the Milburns.

And he didn't have anything to do with any grandmother's inheritance.

I don't blame you for being frustrated, Mr. A. The police won't tell us anything

either. However, when it comes to helping you find poor little Frances,

just... All right, Mr. Thomas, all right.

Thank you.

Only... Why do you refer to her as poor Frances and worm -turning?

Oh, family gossip, I guess.

People were saying that he was a smooth talker, that he walked all over her,

that he...

Spent all of her money and cheated herself.

Well, you know what Philip Stark must have been like.

Weren't you telling me that you represented that little cutie that he

keeping right in Francis' house?

One more thing.

Betty did mention that when you left that house yesterday, it was to catch a

plane for Seattle.

What happened?

My wife remembers some shopping she wanted to do in Los Angeles.

That's where she is now.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mason.

But it's just like I told you, we don't know one single thing about that murder.

Take it easy.

You're Jill Fenwick, aren't you?

I asked you a question. How did you get in here?

Wait a minute.

Estelle said you were kind of fiery, but... Estelle.

Sure, we got a date tonight.

She gave me your keys, said walk right in and help yourself to the liquor. So,

where's the old hospitality?

Look, my name's Paul Drake and... What's the matter?

Don't I measure up for your roommate?

You might.

Except for the fact that my roommate took an acting job several weeks ago in

York.

Okay, that'll teach me to grab names off mailboxes.

But you've got an apartment house manager that'll open doors for ten

So you're an investigator.

What do you want?

I don't know. You've been kind of hard to find.

Forty -seven hotel rooms in Los Angeles were rented to various jills yesterday

afternoon. I said, what do you want?

To know who killed Philip Starks.

I wouldn't laugh too hard.

There's a bellboy who remembers seeing him with you.

Is that so?

You've also had quite a few dates with Dr. Stark during the past year.

He's introduced you as a sculptress from La Jolla, but I find you're actually a

model. Aren't you clever?

I'd also like to know the last time you saw Mrs. Stark.

She's still missing in case you don't read the papers.

I've never seen her.

I've never even met her.

And Philip only walked me back to my hotel.

I only saw him for five minutes yesterday, and that was the first time

months. Now get out of here. Wait a minute.

Not so fast.

When I walk out of here, you may have to walk out with me.

Straight to the police.

And where do you think I've just been?

The police already know everything they need to know, Mr. Drake.

And without any help from the likes of you.

Yes, even without the help of Frances Stark.

Maybe they don't even need to find her anymore.

Maybe you're the one who wants to read the newspapers.

Paper!

I'm sure this has been on long enough.

Getting a little tired, honey?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Say, have you got a bad shoulder?

No, it's all right. I'm all right.

Well, let's take a look anyway, huh?

Let's see. Now, hold still. Hold still for a minute.

Hey, I think we've got it just perfect. I think that's just right, don't you?

You know, I've always wanted to go blonde myself for a little while.

With my personality.

But this is my natural color. You saw it yourself.

I just put a dark rinse on it for a few days just to see how it would look.

Now, please, I'm sure it's fine.

Okay, okay. Hurry, hurry, hurry.

Oh, just the thing that makes you feel good, doesn't it?

You know, to lift up the lid and look so pretty, I mean.

I guess it does make me feel better.

So much better.

Mr. Bell, you testified under direct examination that you left the Stark

at three in the afternoon.

Yes, sir, that is correct.

I left in the company of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Thomas.

And that was the last time you saw Dr. Philip Stark?

It was.

Or his wife, Frances Stark? Of course.

I just stated I went downtown to a business meeting, then I went to my

dinner, then I went to a movie, and then... Yes, but didn't you also say

you were then surprised to hear on a midnight news broadcast that Philip

had been murdered?

Oh, yes, I guess I did.

It wouldn't have surprised you to have heard that his wife had been killed.

Objection, Your Honor. Of all the improper, irrelevant questions.

I'll sustain you, Mr. Berger.

But I'll have to admit to some irrelevant curiosity here myself as to

this case in my court before you've even located the widow, Frances Stark.

Because, Your Honor, she's not even a material witness, as we shall shortly

demonstrate. For the past several days, the police have been bending every

possible effort to find her.

but only to help her, perhaps.

Because, certainly, at a hearing like this, our purpose is only to introduce a

few necessary facts, and I assure you that's all we intend to do. And I see no

reason why the due process of the law... All right, then. You can even skip your

speech, can't we?

Let's get on with it.

Well, then, after you left the house and went back to your hotel, what happened,

Mrs. Thomas?

Well, Henry, my husband, over there...

decided that he wanted to go out on the town for himself for a bit. He was angry

because I was going shopping.

And just before I left the hotel room, about 4 o 'clock, I think, the telephone

rang, and it was Dr. Stark.

And what was the subject of your phone conversation with Dr. Stark?

Well, he simply wanted me to know that he had a chance to send Francis down to

Mexico right away. That very night, in fact.

He wasn't any more specific.

He just wanted me to hear the news.

And I thanked him, and that's about all, I guess.

Thank you, Mrs. Thomas. No more questions.

You say that's about all, Mrs. Thomas.

Well, he maybe mentioned one or two other things.

Such as?

Well, he said how much he enjoyed meeting me and how much he looked

a visit in Seattle someday.

Dr. Stark was attracted to you, I take it?

No.

No, I wouldn't say that.

Would you say he was a man who was attentive to women other than his wife?

Since she's not here to testify herself, did Frances Stark, for instance, ever

mention any particular woman her husband had... Your Honor, I object to that.

Sustained.

Mrs. Thomas.

That's all, thank you.

I saw Dr.

Stark for exactly five minutes.

I ran into him on the street, and then he walked me back to my hotel.

He said he had to get home right away because his wife was being taken to

that night, and that he would follow later, perhaps.

But we weren't good enough friends for him to confide anything specific.

Well, then, just stick to what you know, Miss Fenwick.

What time did Philip Stark leave you?

It was five minutes before six, exactly.

Thank you, Miss Fenwick. That'll be all.

Miss Fenwick, how many times have you dated Dr. Stark?

Four or five times.

I really don't remember.

And how many times have you arranged rendezvous with him in cities across the

country where he was giving lectures?

Never. We might have bumped into each other somewhere.

We were both very much interested in art, but that was our only common

So I've gathered.

And perhaps you knew him well enough to tell us of your own knowledge.

In the event that he inherited a great deal of money from his wife, who would

have shared that money with him? Your Honor.

Never mind, Mr. Berger. I can't answer the question anyway.

I really haven't the slightest idea what Mr. Mason is talking about.

Well, suppose I produced a witness to your meeting with Dr. Stark on the

that evening.

A witness who saw you kissing him. Not once, but several times.

How would you answer that?

Well, I kiss a lot of people, Mr. Mason.

I'm different.

Well, I guess I arrived at the house about 6 .15.

Dr. Stark said he had just got back himself.

But he had already packed his wife's things earlier.

So together we helped the missus out of my limousine, loaded her in real cozy.

And what were your driving instructions, Mr. Link? Well, he arranged to hire me

through the airlines.

I was to drive Mrs. Stark to Tijuana to meet a private plane, Mexican plane.

But instead what happened?

She was kind of a funny lady.

Very nervous.

Not too healthy, maybe.

Didn't want to talk much, so I just shut the glass and drove.

She was listening to the radio there and back.

Then going through San Diego, all of a sudden she wraps on the glass, all

excited. Says, stop the car, let me out.

Wouldn't explain, just goes humping off down the street.

I wait and wait, figuring maybe she has an errand or something.

Looking back, she must have been kind of out of her mind, I suppose.

Well, what I mean is, it wasn't until I heard later on the radio myself about

her husband being murdered up here in Los Angeles.

Then I couldn't find her anyplace.

Not anyplace.

I think you've explained the tragic disappearance of Mrs. Stark sufficiently

the time being, Mr. Link. Thank you very much.

At the moment, I'm only concerned about one further matter.

Was Philip Stark alive when you left him?

Well, of course.

Well, she didn't kill him, if that's what you mean.

I saw Dr. Stark waving goodbye with my own eyes.

Now, Martha, you heard the neighbor who was walking his dog say that he saw the

hired limousine pull away. He saw Dr.

Stark go back inside his house.

You heard this same witness testify that he saw no one else at all in that area

for perhaps 15 minutes until just before he himself was going into his own home.

At which point...

He saw a girl, the defendant, run across the street and go inside Dr. Stark's

house. Now, during all this time, Martha, where were you?

Down the avenue, I told you, waiting for my husband and getting madder and

madder. Dr. Stark told me I could go home the minute he got home. Only there

stood and stood and stood.

Oh, so you were going back to Dr. Stark's house to phone your husband

Exactly. And that's where I saw her.

Betty Castor, running away.

Well, maybe perhaps I couldn't see the blood on her hands, but her dress had

spots on it. I was that close.

And I went inside and found poor Dr. Stock lying there.

Thank you, Martha. I think that'll be all.

Oh, just one more thing.

Your Honor, of course, any suggestion of proving motive at this hearing is

finally unnecessary.

However... Out of deference to defense counsel's earlier remarks, I have one

more question.

Martha, on the basis of your service with Dr.

Stark, can you tell us, of your own knowledge, if Dr.

Stark and the defendant were ever alone together?

Certainly they were alone together all the time. That afternoon, in fact, I saw

him kissing her. Not kissing her.

Or her.

But her, Betty Castor.

Yes, Perry?

Good work, you really did it.

Rather an odd time to say anything like that, Paul.

I'm afraid right after lunch the judge is going to... No, no, no, I don't mean

in court. I mean here, right now.

I've got two of my boys watching him.

Hold it.

Here they come.

What?

Yeah, it was as easy as rolling off the logs, just like you figured.

I want to speak to her right away, Paul.

Excuse me.

There's someone on the phone there who we could speak to, and this is...

Stark.

He's an officer of the court, so I think you better.

Harry, what is all this?

That officer of mine out there is loaded with people who are due in court.

You bring this lady in here?

I've been trying to explain to her that if she told you the whole truth, you

might give her some consideration as a state's witness.

Oh, have you really?

Now, listen, Mrs. Stark. Excuse me, Mr. Berger, but can I see you a minute,

please? What's that?

Wait a minute, will you, Andy?

Now, Mrs. Stark, the important thing for you to consider is that we've proven

definitely that you couldn't possibly have killed your husband.

So... No.

No, I won't say anything.

Please leave me alone.

I won't say a word until I have my own lawyer.

Well, I do think, Mrs. Stark... I don't think you should say any more, Hamilton.

Come in, Paul.

Hello, Jill.

Oh, Jill.

Are you all right?

Estelle? I was just about to say, sir, that would you wait a minute, please?

Now, listen, Miss Estelle Mayberry.

She's an actress, Hamilton.

When she works, that is.

Not this week. We first spotted her at the unemployment office picking up her

check.

Naturally.

Doing everything she could to reestablish her own identity, I suppose.

Best place to hide.

Now, listen, you two.

What in the name of... Oh, she's also Frances Stark.

Oh, she's been calling herself that for a couple of months.

Mr. Berger, I've been trying to tell you. We just had a call from the New

police because they just had a call from Drake here.

It seems that Stark's accident down there was never questioned.

The truck driver was incinerated in his burning truck.

Thought it was so far out in the boondocks there didn't seem much sense

hunting through every inch of mud and snow.

But now they'll be able to go... Well, nice work.

Andy, I'll talk to you later.

So Frances Stark is really dead, is that it?

And you know it and you've been impersonating her.

Oh, she's really a very good actress.

And she had help.

Frances's room was always kept dark. And Philip Stark hired a gullible young

girl to keep people away.

An injured right arm kept the phony Frances from writing.

And there were plenty of sugar pills so she could always pretend she was under

heavy sedation.

But at least one of those doctors was real.

Those bruises were real.

$50 ,000.

He paid me 50 ,000 cash.

And there was to be twice as much after it was all over.

His wife died in that accident.

He threw her body into the fire. I even agreed to let him beat me up,

bruise me all over.

Estelle, stop.

You don't have to say any more.

No, I don't think she does, Hamilton.

Because as fantastic and daring as this all sounds, Philip Stark knew the stakes

were worth it.

And his scheme really worked. Come on, I'll show you.

Francis.

Francis, what have you done to your hair?

This was a plot to inherit two million dollars, you mean. Two million dollars

from a dying grandmother.

But if Frances died first, then obviously she'd never inherit that

So her husband could never inherit from her. So Philip kept Frances alive,

waiting for grandmother to die.

Now hold on here. What the devil?

This is Frances.

I went to her engagement party. Of course, I realized that was over 12

ago. Well, you couldn't prove it by me. I only met her recently.

That's right. And your wife, if I recall correctly, hasn't seen her since

childhood.

So the scheme did work.

And Philip would have eventually inherited that money.

No.

No, Perry, it won't work.

No, still got to be your client.

This girl may have done the acting, but she didn't do the killing. She may have

been in on the plot, but she wasn't in the murder house.

Every shred of evidence points to Betty Castor as the only one who could have

been in the murder house that night.

Oh, and I'm sure it's occurred to you, Hamilton, that when Philip Stark came

back to the house that evening, he could have brought someone with him.

Someone who was there all along, fighting with him.

Your memory is a little bad, isn't it, Mr. Thomas?

What? When you reported what went on at the house that day, you left something

out. No.

Oh, this creature's some sort of an impersonator. I wouldn't know the

difference. None of us would.

And yet, Betty remembers you were talking about someone else.

Someone else visiting Francis surreptitiously a year ago.

Oh, Henry, that's right. Remember the funny letter that Francis wrote about...

Holy smokes, sure.

You met Francis to borrow money.

Well, if this lady isn't Francis, why didn't you say something? Why didn't you

tell us?

Because he's the only close relative Francis had, that's why.

If he let her stay alive and murdered her husband, then who'd get the money?

Well, obviously an imposter couldn't claim that inheritance.

Estelle would have had to just disappear somehow.

And so eventually, Freddie would have claimed the estate to Francis Stark.

No, no, please. I didn't mean to tell him.

I only wanted a fair share.

But he wouldn't give it to me.

I hit him.

I saw the girl.

Coming toward the house.

Money, money, money.

All day I've been born with money.

But what's going to happen to Jill, Mr. Mesa? Her and that Estelle girl?

Betty, that's for Hamilton Burger to figure out.

We'll leave it to him.

All right, that's a beaut.

Both of them are part of a fraud, and nobody's been defrauded.

And with the Thomases getting all the grandma's money... Wait a minute, Paul.

When you found Estelle, how are you so sure she was playing the part of

You've never seen Francis.

Easy, beautiful.

Aside from making such obvious sense, Betty drew me pictures.

Good ones, too.

Hey, dear, that reminds me.

Mr. Mason, I know a person is supposed to pay a lawyer a fee for all you've

done, but... You work as a waitress, don't you? You get tips, don't you?

Pay him 10%, not a penny more.

Betty, all I care about is... Well, I know it isn't much, but of

course it's not finished yet.

And next year, I'll do one in oil.

Every year of my life, I'll do a better and better picture of the most

beautiful, wonderful man in the whole world.

I'll bet even Hamilton Berger would like one of those.

Perry Mason, hanging in oil.