Original subtitles

[orchestral music]

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

[music continues]

I guess you folks all realize

this is a mighty important matter we're decidin' here.

Whether or not a man has committed murder.

The state's done a fine job in presenting its case.

It put five men and women in that chair, key witnesses.

And a person would have to go a long ways

to find five better ones.

[chuckles] Why, anybody could tell right off,

they weren't the kind of people who'd make up things.

A prominent Los Angeles businessman.

A young professional woman.

A man who's run a country store for 20 years.

A writer on a national news magazine.

And the head of our city's Homicide Bureau.

I reckon there's no doubt among you folks on the jury

that they've been tellin' the truth. [chuckles]

Like the lawyers say, to the best of their knowledge

and belief.

Would even so, I suppose the judge is wonderin'

why I didn't cross-examine?

Probably looks to him like I'm lazy,

or that I'm takin' money from my client under false pretenses.

[chuckles] Well, maybe I am.

But I got an idea that five truths

don't always add up to make one single big truth.

You know, when I was a youngster,

learnin' my three Rs, I found out

that three apples and two apples, made five apples,

and that three apples and two oranges, didn't.

And I think, that's what we got here.

Apples and oranges, bein' added together.

[chuckles] I'm not accusin' my friend, the District Attorney

of doin' this deliberately.

He's tryin' to the best of his ability

to seek out and act upon the truth.

To discover and bring to judgement

the murderer of Verna Carlson.

If murder has been done.

But I think in this case he's been led astray

by the passion of one woman.

You've already seen her,

you've heard her supply the equivocal truths

that form the cornerstone for the state's case.

And now, you probably want to know

who's to sort out the apples from the oranges for us?

Who's to give us this final truth?

Well, just one person can do it.

Tell a whole story as he would on his deathbed.

[chuckles] It won't be pretty.

I had to look in the dictionary to find words for it.

Heartless, shameful...

sordid... cruel.

He's been a bad husband and a bad citizen.

He's violated half a dozen moral laws,

lied, cheated and betrayed those who loved him.

But you must remember, ladies and gentlemen,

that he is not on trial for these derelictions,

bad as they may be.

We're concerned here with one question and one question alone,

did he or did he not commit murder?

May I proceed with the defense, Your Honor?

You may proceed, Mr. Cahill.

Lawrence Ballentine, will you take the stand?

[indistinct chatter]

Raise your right hand.

Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you may give

in the cause now pending before this court shall be the truth,

the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

I do.

What is your name, please?

Lawrence Ballentine.

Mr. Ballentine, you're the defendant in this case.

- Are you not? - I am.

Charged with the brutal murder of Verna Carlson.

That's right.

Are you willing to describe to the jury,

to describe truthfully, the events which led

to the placement of that charge?

I certainly am.

To the jury, please.

I, uh, guess I better start with the Saturday afternoon,

June, in New York.

It was in one of those little basement restaurants

on 52nd Street. Nick's.

Specializing in hors d'oeuvres, chateaubriand, crêpe suzette.

And, uh... tables in dark corners

where couples can sit for hours,

without any questions being asked.

It was hot for June.

People were already leaving town.

But it was cool at Nick's.

And quiet.

Now that I look back, I guess it was

what you'd call, a "Quiet before the storm."

- Hello, Miss Bell. - Hello, Nick.

- Where's that man? - He's here.

But I must tell you, Miss Bell, with him at his table

there's the most beautiful blonde.

A blonde, eh? Oh, I'll cut her throat from ear to ear.

[groans]

- Hm. - Poor baby.

Fine thing getting in at this hour of the night.

I suppose you've been roistering with the boys at Blake's.

I've been roistering with a typewriter.

National Conference of Women's ' Clubs.

Leaving me to slave over a hot martini.

You'd think that magazine of yours could afford two writers.

Tom Gladhill thinks women should write stories about women.

You know what, I think it's a plot to break up

our Saturday afternoons.

I strongly suspect Tom Gladhill's in love with you.

[scoffs] Doesn't even know what I look like.

He'd probably describe me as the portable type,

having a standard keyboard and a blue-black ribbon.

- Th... that's nice, do it again. - What?

What'll Nick think?

He's probably wondering why I'm putting my shoes on.

[chuckling] Want a drink?

- Naturally. - Nick?

Two Saturday Specials.

[indistinct]

Anything on the seat beside you?

[paper rustling]

- What do you think of her? - Oh, I think she's beautiful.

You ought to. Seeing as how she's 60% yours.

Think you'd be comfortable on her?

Well, I'd have to shrink a little.

Now, no wisecracks, Skipper.

You're being well paid for your advice.

Luncheon every Saturday for...

Eleven Saturdays.

- Eleven? - Hmm.

Golly, it seems like only a couple of nights ago

we got to talking at that dull party.

What was the name of those people?

Comstock. They were dull.

Do you think we're dull?

Did you ever hear of a fisherman finding another fisherman dull?

[chuckles] Got a cigarette?

Yeah. I think so.

I thought you were gonna get that thing fixed.

[chuckles] it isn't worth it.

What's on the agenda for today?

Engines.

Gas versus diesel.

I've got a lot of questions to ask.

- Oh, golly, I've gotta go. - Oh, Larry...

Well, you shouldn't have been so late.

Oh, I should have thrown that darn typewriter out the window.

I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll phone you first thing, Monday.

- Would you? - With the first nickel I get my hands on.

[instrumental music]

Larry: I left the boat with Nick.

Diesels and other matters to be continued

in next Saturday's installment,

and walked along Fifth Avenue.

I couldn't have missed it if I'd been blindfolded.

It was sitting in the center of the jewelry store window.

Waiting there for me. Bright and shiny.

A gold cigarette case. It was expensive.

And for a little while, it turned out to be a lucky buy.

For a little while.

Coming home that evening, I ran into the first of what

turned out to be a series of unpleasant surprises.

I had guests. Some of my favorite people.

Greta's Aunt Martha, who hated me.

Mrs. Bowman, who bored me.

And her husband, Speed Bowman, Yale '24,

who'd parlayed a touchdown against Harvard

into a million-dollar brokerage business.

Well, if it ain't the Wolf of Wall Street!

Come in, Wolf, and drink at the spring.

Hello, darling. You're late.

Hmm.

Flowers, champagne. What's the idea?

What's generally the idea of flowers and champagne?

Either a funeral or a wedding.

Why, Aunt Martha, you mean to tell me that these two

haven't been married all these years?

You see, I told you he'd forget.

Don't judge everybody by yourself.

- Forget what? - Nothing important.

Just your fifth anniversary, old boy.

Never mind, darling. I know how busy you've been.

That's for you.

It's a gold wrist watch!

You know, Speed, if you hadn't told me,

I'd never have guessed it.

Here. Let me put it on for you.

More than you deserve. Forgetting your own anniversary.

What makes you think I forgot it?

Aunt Martha: I'd say it was an elementary deduction.

- For you, baby. - Oh, Larry...

Oh, Larry, it's lovely. [chuckles]

Thank you.

Two Saturday Specials.

Mademoiselle.

- Monsieur. - Thank you, Nick.

Now, about the outriggers,

we have our choice between bamboo and aluminum.

Of course, aluminum's more expensive, but...

How about paying a little attention?

Oh. Sorry.

You've been acting funny all afternoon.

Something bothering you?

Well, what?

Larry, I had lunch the other day... with Greta.

Yeah?

She showed me the cigarette case.

Oh.

Yeah, I got trapped into that.

I bought it for you, but...

I know.

Look, Skipper, I'll get you one twice as good.

Oh, Larry, it isn't the cigarette case.

It's the way I felt when I saw it.

I was hurt.

Well, I think that's nice.

I don't.

'Cause...

'Cause it showed me I was in love with you.

And I've been fooling myself about these Saturday afternoons.

Maybe we've both been fooling ourselves.

I'm no Saturday-afternoon girl, Larry.

I'm an all-or-nothing girl.

Then there's Greta.

I wouldn't breakup a marriage for anything in the world.

Hers or anybody's.

Aren't you being a little, uh, conservative?

I don't feel conservative.

I'm in love and it's wrong.

There's only one thing to do about it.

Not see you any more.

Larry: Look, baby.

Walking out of Nick's isn't gonna break things off.

I'm doing more than walking out of Nick's, Larry.

I'm leaving town tonight, for Montreal.

I had the office transfer me.

- Bye, Larry. Larry: Wait a minute.

Now it's my turn.

Suppose I told you I was in love, too.

It would only make it worse.

Suppose I told you that, that Greta and I were finished.

- It wouldn't be the truth. - That's where you're wrong.

We've been through for months.

Oh, Larry, I wanna believe you.

You've got to.

Greta's as anxious to break this up as I am.

There's nothing between us any more.

We're like two strangers sharing somebody's apartment.

Oh, Skipper. How can I convince you?

You might try kissing me.

What a time to be going to Montreal.

- I'll go with you. - Oh, you can't, Larry.

No, I suppose not. But I can come up to see you.

After you've arranged things.

What time does your train leave?

Eight o'clock.

Well, that gives me just three hours.

For what?

By the time that train of yours pulls out,

I'll be an eligible ex-married man, living at his club.

Then, darling, we can make plans.

I'll meet you at the station or at your apartment.

- Is it a deal? - Oh, darling, it's a deal.

Greta: Won't you need some socks, Larry?

Oh, goodness.

I thought you had a date with Aunt Martha?

I did, but I broke it. It's a good thing, too.

Look at these. And these.

You'll freeze to death in Montreal.

Montreal? What makes you think...

This came just as I was leaving to meet Aunt Martha.

I paid for it, $87 and 40 cents.

I guess I better tell you, Greta.

This is more than just a trip to Montreal.

I know.

I'm leaving for good.

Did you remember to pack your gold cufflinks?

Do you understand what I'm saying?

- Of course, darling. - Then what are you doing?

Well, I can't let it be said that any husband of mine

left with his clothes in such a mess.

This is a marvelous act, Greta, and I'm not enjoying it.

Why don't you say what you're thinking?

I would.

Only I want to say so much.

Well, let's have it.

Only skip laying the blame on me.

But I'm not blaming anybody.

Unless, it's me. Why should I?

I've had a lovely time.

I remember skating in the snowstorm at Lake Placid,

the winter festival at Rio, and the train ride to Quito,

where you bought that mummified head.

It's a funny thing to remember, isn't it?

In the trailer, when you were a private at Fort Benning.

You were a good sport about that, Greta.

Maybe that's my trouble.

To be a good sport you always have to lose.

[exhales]

There you are, darling.

- I'm sorry. - Why?

I know you've been unhappy for a long time.

I tried to fit you into an apartment.

Make you like my friends. Do the things I wanted to do.

- It's just as much my fault. - I made plans to change it all.

I rented a house in California, in Beverly Hills.

Just the kind of a place you've always wanted.

And I bought you an interest in a brokerage firm.

So you'd be a partner instead of customer's man.

Why didn't you tell me all this?

It was supposed to be a surprise.

For tonight. Of all nights.

Tonight.

It's going to be a lonely trip, darling.

[train chugging]

[buzzer buzzing]

[buzzer buzzing]

[buzzer buzzing]

I'll get it, darling.

- Oh, put it there, please. - Yes, ma'am.

[exhales]

Breakfast.

You can come back in half an hour?

Yes, ma'am.

Here. Drink this. This will make you feel better.

Thanks.

- Greta. - Yes?

I've been wondering...

How did you know my going to Montreal

wasn't just a business trip?

Janice telephoned me on Friday to say goodbye.

Well, that still doesn't...

She happened to mention

she was taking the eight o'clock train

Saturday night for Montreal.

So you put two tickets together?

That wasn't difficult.

You see, darling, I've known about your Saturdays

for a long time.

How?

Couldn't we just consider the chapter closed, Larry?

But they were all perfectly harmless.

- I don't want you to think... - I'm just thinking one thing.

We're trying to keep our marriage going.

That's what I want more than anything.

Greta: Don't you?

Yes, Greta.

Of course, you do.

We're going to be very happy in our new home.

And now that you're to be a partner in your new firm...

you won't have to work Saturday afternoons.

Larry: I understood alright. It was a contract.

Just as if it had been typed, signed and notarized.

No more Saturday afternoons, no Wednesday nights...

no telephone calls, no cocktails at back tables.

I was private property.

Covered with signs marked, uh, "No Trespassing".

I, uh, admit I felt like a heel for a couple of weeks.

When I married Greta, I kidded myself I was in love with her,

but by this time I knew it was the money.

I tried to forget Janice.

My work helped.

Trenton and Ballentine, investment brokers.

Stocks and bonds. Direct wire to New York.

I kept busy for about six months.

Up at 5:30, to be on hand, when the market opened in New York.

Lunch at the Athletic Club, tennis or riding after work.

The model young businessman.

Right down to the double-breasted blue suit.

I guess I fooled nearly everyone.

The customers, Greta, even myself.

Only Trenton saw through the fancy dress.

And maybe one other.

She looked like a very special kind of dynamite.

Neatly wrapped in nylon and silk.

Only I wasn't having any.

I'd been too close to one explosion already.

I was powder shy.

I hear you've had the bloodhounds out for me.

I was looking for you if that's what you mean.

Sit down.

Ballentine, you have a 25% interest in this firm,

I have 75%.

That isn't exactly news.

Every account you muff, costs me

just three times as much as it does you.

Well, your arithmetic is alright, but I don't recall

muffing any account recently.

No? I had a phone call from Clark Boyd this morning.

He wanted to know what's happened to the analysis

of his holdings that we were preparing for him.

Or perhaps I should say you were preparing.

Mr. Boyd has more than $200,000 in the market.

An active account that would bring in

anywhere from $10-20,000 a year.

A well-prepared letter with sound, intelligent suggestions

would've swung his business our way.

Three quarters of say $12,000, amounted to $9000...

[door opens]

What is it, Verna?

Mr. Ballentine asked me to bring you a copy of the letter

he sent Mr. Boyd yesterday.

He thought you might wanna see it.

That's all you wanted, wasn't it, Mr. Ballentine?

Yeah, that's all.

Why didn't you tell me about this?

I just like to hear you talk, Trenton.

Saves me going to Chamber of Commerce luncheons.

[indistinct chatter]

Suppose you tell me what that was all about, Miss Carlson?

Is something wrong, Mr. Ballentine?

I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own affairs.

I've been in the brokerage business for a long time.

So have I.

It just happens you're not one of the partners.

Thanks.

- Got another copy? - Oh, yes.

How'd you happen to think of it?

I heard Mr. Trenton on the telephone.

And moved like greased lightning.

What did you do with the original?

Special messenger to Mr. Boyd's office.

My recommendations I trust were up to the usual standard.

They were even better.

What kind of perfume do you like?

That, Mr. Ballentine, was for free.

- Why? - 'Cause I wanted to.

Well, if there's anything I can do.

I'll call it square for a lift home some night.

I hate buses.

I thought Trenton had the franchise.

Sometimes he's busy.

Okay.

Sometime, when he's busy.

Right over there, Mr. Ballentine.

[cars bustling]

- Hello. - Hello.

I didn't know Trenton was working tonight.

He isn't.

- Where do you live? - Not far from where you live.

Where do you think that is?

838, Benedict Canyon.

A two-story Monterey house

with a swimming pool and a tennis court.

$500 a month rent. Two servants.

[engine turns over]

What's Trenton gonna say about all this?

Are you afraid of Trenton?

Aren't you?

He wants to marry me.

Would that be so bad?

Not if you like drive-in and 35-cent movies,

and long walks in the park.

What makes you think that isn't my idea of a gay evening?

This $3000 jalopy for one thing.

Maybe you're right.

But you're overlooking something.

- What? - My wife.

Greta.

I've seen her picture in the Society section of the Times.

She's distinguished looking.

Tell me, does she ever drink beer out of bottles?

[chuckles]

She doesn't even drink beer.

I do. Although, I prefer martinis.

Specially, around 5:30.

Four to one.

[instrumental music]

And a twist... of lemon peel.

See if this doesn't beat any bar in town.

Thanks.

Pretty fancy layout.

It's not bad.

Wondering how I handle it on my Trenton and Ballentine's salary?

No. Now that you mention it. How do you?

That might be an embarrassing question.

- Suppose I withdraw it. - You don't have to.

I share expenses with another girl, Susan Haines.

She's a dietitian. She makes more money than I do.

Is she prettier than you, too?

She looks exactly like a dietitian.

- Like it? - Fine.

But, uh, where's the profit?

What do you mean? Profit?

Well, you can't just be giving these away?

Not after all that talk about how much things cost,

how much rent people pay, how much money they make.

Look, the only thing I'm interested in

is how much people spend.

There's a name for that kind of interest.

Sure, gold digging.

I read a poem once in high school,

something about gathering rosebuds while you can.

Only instead of rosebuds, I gather orchids.

Even better.

And of course, what goes with the orchids,

shows, expensive restaurants and nightclubs.

And while I'm reading my palm, I think I should warn you,

I'm not particular who I gather my orchids from.

Fair enough.

That still doesn't answer my question.

The cost of that will be included in the nice dinner

you're going to buy me.

[chuckles]

Lady, you made a bad investment.

I eat my own orchids.

And I eat them at home.

That's where I should be right now.

May I use your phone?

Right over there.

Hello, Mary. Is Mrs. Ballentine home yet?

She won't?

Well...

In that case, I'll have dinner downtown.

Greta's out.

At a meeting of the Welfare League.

I must've forgotten to give you the message.

[music continues]

Larry: I discovered that what went with orchids

was a game of hide and seek with fate.

Played in offbeat nightclubs, out-of-the-way bars,

remote restaurants.

A game I never had a chance of winning.

Yes, in just a moment, sir. Just a moment.

- I'll be right back. - Alright.

[indistinct chatter]

Larry: Janice!

I've been meaning to look you up.

- What for? - Why, to talk with you...

Well, to say hello.

You could've said hello when I phoned you.

I've been so darn busy, Janice, and...

you know talking on the phone is no good.

You know, you're acting just as I imagined you would.

As though nothing had happened.

A few weeks ago, I might not have understood.

When you didn't come that night, I tried to make excuses.

That you've been taken ill or called away on business,

or had an accident. Anything.

When the magazine transferred me to the West Coast,

I still hoped you'd explain.

Last month, I saw Greta.

Learned she'd never even considered breaking with you.

It was a pretty shoddy lie of yours, wasn't it?

I don't suppose you feel quite as cheap about it as I do.

Who was that?

A girl I used to know in New York.

She's pretty. An old flame of yours?

Hardly.

The table is ready now, sir.

If the suggestions meet with your approval,

please sign the enclosed form and return to us

as soon as possible.

Fix it up for my signature.

Now, on the prospectus of the Seabright Manufacturing Company.

"The firm's opinion is that

while the issue is purely speculative,

it offers excellent opportunities

to participate in one of the most..."

I have the Hepburn file for you, Mr. Ballentine.

Oh, yes. Oh, wait a second.

There's something I want to ask you about it.

Uh, suppose you run that letter off for me, Miss Jordan,

I'll get to the prospectus later.

- The usual copies? - Yes.

I notice in Mrs. Hepburn's file, most of her trading

of late's been in preferred. Has she ever expressed any...

Our date's off for tonight, baby.

It is?

I have to go to a concert with Greta.

- Why? - "Why?"

Well, because she has the tickets, she's ordered

dinner early and... I can't get out of it.

You've been able to get out of things before.

Not when the leash was pulled tight.

Or, uh, hadn't you heard about the leashes we married men wear?

No, I hadn't.

Larry, I don't understand one thing. - What?

Why didn't you wait until five o'clock to break our date?

Then you'd be sure I couldn't get another.

Oh, look. You're being a little unreasonable.

Am I?

Aren't you forgetting all that talk

about good times on a cash-and-carry basis?

You knew what you were getting into, baby.

You knew about Greta.

How do you figure you have any kind of a claim on me?

I guess I don't.

[piano music]

[music continues]

[indistinct]

- What're you looking at? - Me?

You were looking at something.

Trenton, I didn't know he was coming tonight.

[indistinct chatter]

Oh, there's Mr. Trenton.

- Hello. - Good evening, Mrs. Ballentine.

I don't believe you've met Miss Carlson from...

- No, how do you do? - How do you do?

Do you like music, too, Miss Carlson?

- I can take it or leave it. - Didn't you like the polka?

I think Shostakovich is so exciting.

I'm afraid Verna prefers the music of Harry James.

But that Chopin prelude he played first,

I thought it was wonderful.

I don't suppose any of you are old enough

to remember the...

Oh, what a lovely ring! May I see it?

Certainly.

I maybe getting one like that myself.

Oh, are you engaged?

Well, it's being debated.

Well, congratulations!

We'll have to give them a party, eh, Larry?

Yes, certainly will.

We'd love it. Darling, excuse me a minute?

Oh, yes. Of course.

Oh, Mr. Trenton, I've been reading the, uh, report

on Mexican Pacific...

- Yes. - I think I'd like to buy some.

We're recommending the issue for the expansion of trade

in the south west, that should be a common stock

dividend this year.

[alarm blaring]

Verna?

This whole thing is completely cockeyed.

All this conversation about marrying Trenton.

- You think I couldn't? - I think you won't.

I know what that little brain of yours is cooking up.

The old jealousy routine. Only, I'm not falling.

Okay. You're not falling.

When am I gonna see you?

We had a date tonight, remember?

- What about tomorrow night? - I'm afraid, I'm busy.

No, you're not.

- Tomorrow night, Verna... - Let me go!

Not until you tell me you'll see me.

[piano music]

- The music's starting. - Will you, Verna?

I suppose so.

Larry: For the next week or so, I got home later each night,

or maybe I should say each morning.

Until one particular morning

a rectangle of light from the library door caught my eye.

That must be an interesting book.

I wanted to catch you before you went to bed.

Sorry. I got mixed up with some customers.

Sit down, Larry.

Why so serious?

[yawning] I just couldn't get them to go home.

Larry, do you remember Janice?

Why, sure.

I saw her a couple of weeks ago.

So did I.

Do you realize how much she hates you?

Well, I have a faint idea.

You must've had a cozy talk with her. How come?

I was silly enough to think you'd taken up with her again.

- Janice? - Of course...

That was before I found out about Verna.

What are you talking about?

In a way, I could understand about Janice.

She was a nice girl. Attractive. Smart.

But, Larry, a little tramp.

Who's been giving you all this dope? Trenton?

What difference does that make?

[scoffs] Not any, I guess.

Well...

What do you intend to do?

I bought a ranch near Owens Lake.

Up in the mountains away from everything.

I'm going to live there for a while.

With or without me?

It's up to you.

You sort of run in a pattern, don't you?

One quick move after another.

Tell me something, when you found out about Janice,

did you already have this house and the train reservations?

No, Larry. I didn't.

Well, I will say one thing, when you do move, you move fast.

Not fast enough to break the pattern, I'm afraid.

I must've lost my self-respect the day I married you.

I can make all the moves, but the one that has any meaning.

I can't walk out, Larry.

You'll have to do the walking.

You can come to the ranch with me...

or you can start off on your own with your girlfriend.

I'll have to know tomorrow.

- Hi, darling. - Hello, baby.

I missed you this morning. Where were you?

Home.

Too lazy to come to work?

No work to come to.

I'm no longer the Ballentine

of the celebrated brokerage house of Trenton and Ballentine.

You've quit?

You might put it that way.

Well, tell me about it. What happened?

Greta. She sold my interest back to Trenton.

Why?

She found out about us.

Well, that certainly takes a load off my mind.

Let's have another round to celebrate.

Celebrate what? My being out of a job?

No. That we don't have to hide things any more.

Oh, that.

Don't worry, Larry. We'll make out.

Maybe you haven't heard. The dough goes with Greta.

I heard. Trenton saw to that a long time ago.

That's why I think we ought to go slow.

What do you mean? Go slow?

Well, I... I wanna be sure the job is right.

No bitters this time, George.

I don't get this.

I don't get where you'd be living

while you're looking for this right job.

Well, that's what I'm trying to explain.

You know I love you, Verna.

But we've got to figure this carefully.

Larry, I'm asking you a question.

Which one of us are you going to be seeing? Her or me?

Well, I guess her for now, Verna, but...

You know, Larry...

you've just witnessed a memorable occasion.

The one time in my life when I was on the level.

It didn't last long, did it?

Oh, that drink's yours, George.

The rat on my left will pay.

He's got a rich wife.

Larry: I don't remember much about the drive to the ranch.

I was in kind of an emotional blackout.

Numb.

I'd sold out again.

I think it was somewhere along the way I first realized,

I was running in a pattern, too.

A pattern of dollar signs.

Now, looking back, I know

I should've felt sorry for Greta.

Trying to buy happiness, for herself and for me.

But what I felt was the feeling of a prisoner

toward his jailer.

In a way, she was a jailer. For both of us.

She wanted us to be alone, to wall off the outside world.

Lock us behind a door marked "Do Not Disturb."

She'd found the place alright.

In the center of the rise of foothills.

Hidden from everything but sky.

A cold clear stream with trout in it.

Quail and dove in the fields.

A snug Mexican ranch house with adobe and stone.

Set in a grove of fine old trees for summer shade.

Built 100 years ago by a Miguel Domecq

on land given him by the king of Spain.

A San Francisco banker had made it into a summer home.

Had put in electricity and hot water.

Fireplaces and a walk-in refrigerator.

Comfortable furniture.

All we had to do was move in.

What do you think of it, Larry?

I'll have to buy a sombrero and some spurs.

How many, uh, peons go with the place?

None.

Who's gonna take care of things?

Just the two of us.

That'll be cozy.

What about, uh, the mail? Groceries? Telephone?

There's a general store about three miles down the road.

They leave the mail at a box on the highway.

And the telephone?

I had the telephone taken out, Larry.

[instrumental music]

Larry: In the days that followed, Greta seemed happy.

She found a friend.

A Palomino stallion with a weakness for sugar.

And she found a brand new world over the shoulder of rock

that cut the ranch off from the mountains beyond.

Trails that hadn't changed since the Indians

used them to raid the settlers along the coast.

Quartz formations with fool's gold glittering in the sun.

Desert plants with spines that tore our riding boots.

All kinds of wildflowers.

But her happiest discovery was a few hundred yards

from the ranch.

A hidden valley at the base of a waterfall.

Sometimes we'd go there together.

Down a path so steep and rocky, the Palomino couldn't follow.

He'd stand above, waiting patiently for Greta's return.

There was a pool in the valley, dark and mysterious,

constantly in motion.

She liked it there, I can't tell you why.

Maybe something told her the pool held a solution

to everything for her.

And for me, too.

But all the time, unrest was growing inside me.

I had to get to Los Angeles.

I tried to think how without arousing suspicion.

But I couldn't.

And then, one afternoon, the solution came.

Supplied by Greta.

Larry, I just had a wonderful idea. - What?

What do you think about building a guesthouse?

I thought you passed a law about guests.

Oh. Not a permanent law.

And besides, you could hardly call Aunt Martha a guest.

- Aunt Martha? - Yes, she's thinking of coming out.

And it'd be fun to build, anyway.

You could draw up the specifications.

I don't know the first thing about specifications.

Then we'll get an architect.

- Where? Greta: In Los Angeles of course.

- We can get the name of one. - I know one, name's Harwell.

Good. What don't you run up to the store

and phone him for an interview right now.

- Hmm? - Okay.

And will you make an appointment for me at my salon?

My hair needs doing and we need groceries, too.

[chuckles] You want me to go with you?

No, that's alright. I'll be right back.

Larry: I called Harwell and made a date for Thursday,

and then, the hairdresser.

Then I made the important call.

[dings]

Hello.

Verna Carlson, please.

It's for you, Verna.

- Hello. Larry on phone: Hello, Verna?

It's Larry Ballentine.

I'm coming into town on Thursday.

I'll be at our usual place at two o'clock.

Larry on phone: Can you meet me there?

There's something I want to talk to you about.

Verna?

Verna?

Verna!

[clattering]

Get cut off?

Operator's got a real knack for breakin' off

just as things are gettin' interesting.

Yeah? All the groceries in the car?

Everything except the lump sugar.

Don't have much call for gewgaws like that.

That's okay. I'll pick some up in town on Thursday.

Can't afford to disappoint the horses.

[ice rattles]

What time is it now?

It's six minutes later than the last time you asked me, mister.

2:25.

Thanks.

Want another drink?

No, I guess not.

How much do I owe you?

Maybe she got held up. It's been known to happen.

- The rest is yours. George: Thanks.

Do me a favor, will you?

Tell me why I'm here.

The same reason I am, Verna.

You couldn't stay away.

You've got quite an opinion of your drawing power, haven't you?

Alright. Why did you come?

It isn't me, Verna. It's something in this.

We can't help it.

- Will you go away with me? - For how long?

For as long as you can put up with me.

I'll get a divorce in Reno and then, we can go away anywhere.

- Make a fresh start. - Look. That was my line.

Only, you decided I couldn't support you properly.

- Remember? - Yeah, I know, but...

If I go anywhere now, there will be orchids involved.

I can get orchids.

That's the best offer I've had since lunch...

but it's not good enough.

Maybe I should've said a lot of orchids.

How?

Greta has $30,000 in her checking account.

And she's going to give it to us with her blessing, I suppose.

You don't understand, it's a joint checking account,

I can draw on it, too.

How, without letting her know?

You're gonna do it.

Oh. I'm going to do it.

Listen, I've got it all figured out.

I write the check. You cash it through the firm.

That way, there won't be any questions asked.

The bank will just think I'm buying securities for her.

And then what?

You cash the check on Monday,

so it'll be on next month's statement.

Then catch the ten o'clock Reno bus to Thomason's Crossroads.

It gets there at 2.30. I'll meet you.

- What do you think? - I think you're crazy.

I'll show you how crazy.

- George, you got a pen? George: Sure.

It's one of them new ones, I do my writing with it underwater.

$20,000?

Make it $25,000.

Scared?

You're the one who should be scared.

Why?

How do you know I'll show up on Monday?

I'm betting you will, baby.

$25,000.

Larry: On Monday, the bus was late. But I didn't care.

It was warm in the sunshine.

I walked up and down for a while,

watchin' the cars pass on the highway.

I wondered how long it would take us to reach Reno.

I had no way of knowing then that roads don't always go

where you expect them to.

[instrumental music]

I got to the bus and one passenger climbed out.

A man. That was a jolt.

No Verna. And no $25,000.

Suddenly, I began to wonder if I'd been double-crossed.

I had to find out quick.

I was plenty scared.

[dinging]

I want to talk to Los Angeles. Tucker 5387.

Alright.

[dinging]

That's 85.

Verna: Larry?

What the devil happened to you?

- Why nothing. - Why weren't you on that bus?

I was on the bus, they ran two today.

What did you expect me to do? Be on both of them?

Let's get going.

[engine rumbling]

What're you doing?

How about a swim?

I thought we were supposed to be going to Reno.

We are. But I'm hot.

We'll never get there tonight with half a dozen stops.

Alright. We'll get there tomorrow.

Better try it. It might improve your temper.

I should've known it'd be like this.

You're about as dependable as a four-year-old child.

You can turn back if you like.

Maybe you'd like it better with Trenton.

He probably doesn't swim at all.

[dramatic music]

Okay. You can go back.

But first, you're going swimming if I have to throw you in.

[struggling]

You're hurting me. [sobbing]

I'm sorry, baby.

Why don't you just say that you don't love me?

- But I do, Verna. - You can't.

- You've been so strange. - So have you.

But you haven't said anything.

You didn't even seem glad to see me.

I was scared to show you how really glad I was.

- Honest, Larry? - Honest, honey.

[instrumental music]

Let's get going.

No. I think a swim would be nice.

What's all that talk about Reno?

That was just talk.

- Bet I beat you in. - Okay.

[gasping]

Photo finish.

Come on.

It's swell after the first shock.

Yeah.

- Happy? - Mm-hm.

Larry! You'll drown me! [chuckles]

- Time to go ashore. - Now?

Yeah, now.

[music continues]

[Verna sighs]

Larry: Cigarette? - That'd be lovely.

What did Trenton have to say?

Nothing. I didn't give him a chance.

Just left word I was leaving.

[chuckles]

Bet the old boss is hot on your trail right now.

He's in for an awful shock if he is.

He probably notified your folks.

I haven't any. What did you do?

The same deal. I wrote a letter asking for a divorce.

- Think you'll get it? - Sure.

And then, we'll get married, baby.

I thought it might come in handy.

Where did you get it?

At the dime store.

Dime store?

Didn't you know you could buy a ring with real diamonds

with 25 grand?

Yes, I know.

Were you afraid I'd get sore?

No. I wasn't afraid.

What's the matter? Haven't you got the money?

Well, not exactly.

Look. Either you have it or you...

My dowry.

What happened? You lose your nerve?

What do you want me to do with it?

That's up to you.

I thought you might do that.

I guess that's what we both intended to all along.

Your left hand.

There you are, baby.

It looks nice.

As if it belonged there.

It does belong there.

From now on.

From now on.

You know, I've always dreamed of getting married

in something white.

Larry: Late in the afternoon, shadows from the mountains

fell across the lake and it got cold.

We decided to push on to Reno.

It wasn't too far, well under 300 miles.

I figured we could make it before midnight.

- Larry? - Hmm?

Any regrets?

About what?

About the check.

No regrets, darling.

No regrets at all.

What do you think Greta will do?

Find another guy.

I wonder.

Why not?

Even if she weren't attractive,

there's always that lovely money.

[chuckling]

Maybe she wouldn't want another guy.

I wouldn't.

Ah, don't shed any tears over Greta.

She's quite capable of looking after herself.

Alright, darling.

I won't shed any tears.

[truck engine revving]

[tires screeching]

[crashing]

[explosion]

[fire crackling]

Over here, Gus.

Must've bust the gas tank.

Do you think there's anybody in there?

[instrumental music]

[groans]

How are you feeling, mate?

I don't know.

Cigarette?

No, I guess not.

I know it won't do any good.

But I'm sorry.

I lost mine, too.

- Yours? - My wife.

She passed away of TB.

We'd been married seven years.

Larry: I wondered what he meant.

"Mine's gone, too."

And then it hit me.

He was talking about Verna. Verna was dead.

And somehow they'd assumed she was my wife.

I lay there wishing they were right,

that it had been Greta.

And suddenly, a dim light went on in the back of my head,

a vague sort of hundred-to-one shot idea.

How is he?

How would you be with your head busted?

Ha! That I'd like to see.

Mr. Ballentine?

Are you well enough to answer a couple of questions?

- I guess so. - Fine.

This man will make out the accident report.

Save you from going to the inquest.

We'll have to have your name and address.

Lawrence Ballentine, box 43.

RFD 6, Tulare County.

- Age? - 34.

- Profession? - Broker.

- What's next? - His wife's name.

Greta... Ballentine.

Now tell us in your own way just what happened.

I can't remember.

Just tell us what you know.

Well, we were traveling north, not fast.

The... truck swerved,

we tried to cut inside, but...

That jibes with the truck driver's story. He blew a tire.

Now, who was driving?

I was.

You sure it wasn't your wife driving?

Yes, I'm sure.

- Why? - Well...

The way her body was, it looked like she was at the wheel.

Of course, you couldn't tell much, everything was burned.

She was burned?

This is about all that was left.

We found it wedged in the door.

Um, where was I?

You sure your wife wasn't driving?

Yes, I'm sure.

Greta was in the right-hand seat.

Well, that's that. Have him sign it.

Is that all?

As far as I know.

- When can I leave? - Well, that's up to the doc.

Good luck.

Larry: I'd done it.

I'd cleared the first barrier easily.

Greta was on the record as a brass wedding ring

and a handful of charred bones.

Now I had to keep her there to get the money.

Just a moment, Mr. Ballentine.

There's, uh, still a little matter

connected with... your wife.

I was in to see you earlier, but you were asleep.

Uh, I hope you weren't running off.

No, I wasn't.

I don't like to mention money,

but, uh, I'm sure that you wish everything's settled

[clears throat] quietly.

Uh, we've had a few unfortunate experiences.

Now, uh, about the payment...

How do I know you won't keep coming back?

My card, sir.

Under the present circumstances, I would suggest cremation.

Uh, you... do whatever

you think is right, Mr. Bascombe.

Will that, uh, cover it?

Yes, it certainly will.

Uh, but, Mr. Ballentine,

where shall we send the remains?

- Remains? - Yes.

There's generally a family plot.

Oh, uh... her aunt.

Uh, Martha Hines.

Paulville, Long Island.

Yes, now, I'll just jot that down.

Uh, now, what would you say to a silver container

with her name in...

[intense music]

Larry: We passed the place where

the station wagon had burned,

but I didn't even look out.

Verna was buried somewhere deep inside me.

All I wanted now, was the money I'd given up for her.

There was only one possible slip-up.

Greta could have left the ranch.

One person would know.

Thomason.

Gee whiz, I didn't expect to see you, Mr. Ballentine.

Here. You look kind of shaky.

You been out to the ranch?

No. But I reckon everything's alright.

Even with her gone.

Gone? What do you mean, gone?

- Now, now. Take it easy. - You... you saw her leave?

Look, I think you got hurt worse than you know, Mr. Ballentine.

Why don't you sit down for a minute?

Not that I blame you for bein' upset, she was a fine woman.

Seems untimely her being killed like that.

Though, I guess it happened real quick.

Yeah... it did.

Real quick.

Uh, is your truck here?

Why, sure. All hitched up. Ready to go.

- Come on. I'll drive you up. - No. I want to go alone.

Now, now, you'll need somebody to fix some food,

and tidy things up a bit. Just wait till I lock the store.

- I wanna go now. - Alright.

Nobody'll bother with the store.

Leave me alone!

[engine rumbling]

[gun cocks]

[switch clicks]

[intense music]

Larry: There was one more possibility...

her friend.

She might've gone to him for comfort.

[music continues]

But he was gone.

And then, all at once, I knew where she was.

[music continues]

[rustling]

[music continues]

[dramatic music]

[music continues]

[horse neighs]

[water splashes]

Larry: When I woke the next morning,

I didn't know where I was.

Uh, it was like waking up after a fever.

Everything was mixed up and unreal.

I called out for Greta.

When she didn't answer, I got up to look for her.

Then I remembered.

[sighs] I...

guess it was the after-effects of the concussion.

My head still aches and it was hard to think.

And yet, I wasn't sad... [exhales]

At least, not then.

Fate had dealt me one from the bottom of the deck.

But I'd evened things up. I...

I had the money.

Funny thing was... how well it turned out.

The ashes were shipped east and buried there as Greta's.

The coroner's jury turned in a verdict of accidental death.

And... nobody at all bothered about Verna.

I got a loan against the estate,

and went to South America.

But the, uh, gayer the city, the worse I felt.

Lima, Rio, Buenos Aires...

none of them were any good.

Something was wrong.

Maybe homesickness,

maybe... sense of guilt.

I kept looking for a quieter place.

Trinidad, Costa Rica. Finally, Jamaica.

I stayed almost a month in Kingston.

Eating alone, swimming alone, walking alone.

Feeling like one of the seabirds I used to see

flying over the beach at dusk, crying.

There was only one place I liked, by some rocks.

A sea pool of dark green water.

I'd watch it for hours, remembering another pool.

Gradually, I began to feel that it might be for me

what the other had been for Greta.

Then one day, at lunch in the hotel,

fate opened a brand new deck of cards.

[bell rings]

Man #1: Attention, please. Attention.

Our automobiles will leave the hotel in 15 minutes.

Fifteen minutes. Now I must request you not to be late.

As some of you, uh, especially, you younger folk,

[chuckles] seem to have a habit of doing.

Uh. Oh, not that I blame you.

[crowd chattering]

Hello, Larry.

What are you doing here?

Seeing the Caribbean. Sixteen days for $270.

I, uh...

I just wanted to say I was sorry to hear about Greta.

Thanks.

If there's anything I can do to...

There isn't.

Well... bye, Larry.

Bye.

- Charlie? - Yes, sir.

What does a guy do around here when he's bored?

Have you tried horseback riding, sir?

I'm sick of horses.

What about deep-sea fishing?

I've been.

There's golf or tennis.

Pineapple juice, please.

- Alone? - Temporarily.

I guess I was pretty rude this noon.

Mm-hmm.

I'm sorry.

It's alright, I think I understand.

Do you have a date for dinner?

I'm meeting with some friends.

Well, that's too bad.

Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow if you're free.

- I think it can be arranged. - Okay.

Larry: After lunch the next day,

things seemed to arrange themselves.

Janice left her tour.

Each day, we cruised offshore from daybreak to dusk.

We trolled for sailfish in the clear

green water, off Kingston.

I think it was a sort of compensation

for what we'd lost in New York.

I didn't know then, relaxed and happy in the sun,

that I wasn't the fisherman. I was the bait.

When her vacation ended we flew back

to Los Angeles together.

We arrived in the morning.

I expected to be upset, coming home again.

But I wasn't.

I felt warm and grateful,

walking arm in arm with Janice.

She had to report to her office in Hollywood.

I had a room at my club downtown.

But we'd arranged to meet that evening at her hotel,

at 7:00.

I got there early,

feeling like a high school boy on his first date.

- Uh, that's 45 cents. - That'll be fine.

- There. - Do you need anything else?

Nothing else. Thanks.

- Miss Janice Bell, please. - Uh, 127.

- Shall I announce you? - No. She's expecting me.

Straight down the corridor and to your right.

Trenton: Thank you.

May I help you?

Never mind.

[knocking on door]

Janice: Come in.

[door closes]

[car engine turns over]

[car engine revving]

[tires screech]

Trenton: Sorry to barge in like this, but I couldn't wait.

Janice: It's alright. I'm not meeting him until 7:00.

Trenton: Did you find him in Kingston?

Janice: Wandering about the big hotel like a lost soul.

Trenton: Did he suspect anything?

Janice: I pretended I was on one of those Caribbean tours

that stop overnight.

Most trouble I had was persuading him to come back.

It was touch and go to the last minute.

Trenton: I don't wonder, in fact,

I'm surprised you got him to leave Verna at all.

Janice: Verna wasn't with him.

Not with him? Where was she?

Janice: I don't know and I don't think he does.

Trenton: Well, that's incredible.

I'd have bet a hundred thousand dollars she went with him.

[car engine turns over]

Janice: Looked into Greta's death?

Trenton: A detective went up from Los Angeles.

He examined the station wagon, talked to the truck driver,

double checked the police records and reported,

it was definitely an accident.

In an odd way, I'm almost glad.

You're not falling in love with him again?

Would it be so wrong if he hasn't done anything?

My dear, I can assure you he's done something.

Two women don't vanish on the same day just accidentally.

We've eliminated Mrs. Ballentine,

but there's still Verna.

Janice: She probably just left town.

Trenton: I don't think so.

She had $72 coming, almost two weeks' pay.

And I know Verna, she'd never let it go.

Larry: That was one below the belt,

and for a minute, it had me on the ropes.

Hanging on in a kind of groggy panic.

Then I began to think.

No danger from Greta.

Accidental death, the police had said.

And Trenton was at a dead end on Verna.

I was safe enough.

Hello.

I have something to take up with you.

You have?

It's pretty serious.

You're five minutes late.

[chuckles] Oh, that is serious.

What's the fine, Your Honor?

One martini to be consumed at once.

Oh, glad I wasn't a half-hour late.

[chuckling]

Out late again, Mr. Ballentine?

Yeah.

I ran a dead heat with the milkman.

Only what he was carrying was certified, huh?

[chuckling]

You got a point there, Gus. A definite point.

[telephone rings]

[Larry groans]

Hello?

Yeah, he is.

A lady to see you, Mr. Ballentine.

A lady?

- Doesn't she have a name? - Verna Carlson.

Gus: Shall I tell her you're busy?

Yeah.

No.

Have her...

come around to the swimming pool entrance.

[door creaking]

Woman #1: Mr. Ballentine?

What's the idea of saying you're Verna Carlson?

Oh, I didn't. I'm Susan Haines. Verna's roommate, remember?

He said it was Verna.

Oh, no. I said it was about Verna.

About her? What about her?

Well, the little rat owes me a month and a half rent.

$84.

Well, that's too bad. Why come to me?

Well, I thought maybe you could tell me where she is.

- What gave you that idea? - Verna.

She sort of hinted just before she left that

she was going to get some money from you.

Well, that's the first I've heard about it.

I thought it might be a gag.

Actually, I haven't seen her since I left the office.

Well, it was worth a try.

Now, I go to the police.

Wait a minute.

- How much did you say it was? - $84.

- I'll write you a check. - Oh, no, look.

- I want to collect from her. - Uh, I'll be bumping into her.

And it will give me something to kid her about.

- You don't mind? - Well, of course I don't mind.

I... I'll be right back.

Larry: After all, it was only $84.

Trenton: Your explanation, it seems to me,

hardly fits the facts.

Why doesn't it?

I simply wrote the check to keep Verna out of trouble.

You sure it wasn't to keep Miss Haines

from going to the police?

That would be trouble for Verna, wouldn't it?

Or for you, if you'd been paying her blackmail.

Look, accusing me of paying Verna blackmail

isn't going to find her for you.

Neither is a trick like the one

you just cooked up with the Haines woman.

There's no need to lose your temper.

I'm not losing my temper, I'm simply

telling you I don't know where Verna is

and I don't expect to know.

But if I ever do, I won't tell you. Is that clear?

You've never seen her since your wife died?

- Never. - Nor even just before?

Nor even just before.

I want you to meet a friend of yours.

Oh, howdy there, Mr. Ballentine. Long time, no see.

You mixed up in this thing, too?

He isn't mixed up in anything.

I simply want him to tell you what he told me.

- What's that? - Well, it's about this girl.

The one they showed me the picture of.

Of course, I seen her meet you at the store that day.

Then her and you drive off toward the ranch.

- You remember that? - Of course I don't.

And what difference would it make if I had met her?

Quite a difference, you see,

we think Verna was there to blackmail you.

[scoffs] The same old tune again.

Not exactly.

We think you killed her and hid her body on the ranch.

Then you drove off with your wife and unfortunately,

had the accident which would have made it unnecessary

to murder Verna.

If I believed a thing like that, Trenton,

I'd take it to the police.

I have.

It. Carr of the Los Angeles Homicide Bureau.

At Mr. Trenton's suggestion, we had a warrant issued

by the Tulare County authorities to search your ranch.

I was wondering if you'd like to take a drive up there with me?

[engine rumbling]

[car door slams]

You the folks from LA?

I'm It. Carr and this is Mr. Rogers.

- Howdy. - How are you making out?

Poorly. We've been searching since daybreak.

Poundin' and diggin' and siftin' ashes.

We got the house plum drawn up.

I reckon you won't mind, Mr. Ballentine.

'Cause we ain't found nothing.

Well, how about the rest of the ranch?

We've been over that, too, but maybe

you city fellers are smarter than we are.

Looks like we had a long drive for nothing.

Well, maybe we ought to walk around a little.

Just to please Mr. Trenton.

What do you say?

You're the boss.

You want me and the boys?

Not unless you figure you need some more exercise.

[water gushing]

I'm getting too soft for this kind of thing.

Would you mind hiding your next victim in Griffith Park?

I'd just as soon skip all talk about victims.

Here or anywhere. [chuckles]

Yeah, I know. It's hard on the nerves.

Let's take a breather, my knees

feel like a couple of rusty hinges.

Every time somebody disappears, somebody else hollers foul play.

And mostly, the missing person just left town.

- Cigarette? - No, Thanks.

It seems like wives cause the most trouble.

Never can believe their man would leave on his own.

- I remember one case... - Hey, lieutenant!

There's a horse down there.

What's so important about that?

He's sick or something. He's lying down.

Down there, by the waterfall.

What's he doing down there?

Maybe he thinks the pasture's better.

He's right, too. Burclover.

I suggest we leave out the botany and get moving.

- It's a long ride back to town. - Horses don't eat lying down.

For my money, he's sick, or maybe he fell down there.

What do you think?

I'll phone a vet from the ranch house.

Rogers: Oh, in the meantime, he suffers.

I think we ought to get down and take a look.

It happens to be Mr. Ballentine's horse.

What do you say, Mr. Ballentine?

Maybe he's right.

I suppose he is.

Ah, that's the ticket.

Anybody coming with me?

We ought to get our expenses from the SPCA.

It. Carr: You coming, Mr. Ballentine?

Right behind you.

[instrumental music]

You better stay back. You're liable to scare him.

Hello, fella.

The guy's broke both front legs.

Well, that's tough.

What do you want to do?

Rogers: There's only one thing you can do.

Yeah.

You think somebody should shoot him?

We can't let him suffer.

You wanna do it, Mr. Ballentine?

No, not me. It was Greta's, uh, my wife's. I...

I couldn't.

[music continues]

This ain't gonna be much fun for either of us, sport.

Oh, Mr. Ballentine!

Would you come over here for a moment?

[dramatic music]

Care to identify her?

[gunshot]

Well, that's it.

Beginning.

Middle and the end.

The truth.

The whole truth, so help me.

[indistinct chatter]

You may have the witness.

Mr. Ballentine, it has been testified

that the woman's corpse found in the whirlpool

was battered beyond identification.

Do you consider this fortunate or unfortunate?

Your Honor, I object.

The question calls for an expression of opinion.

Objection sustained.

Very well, Your Honor.

I hardly think there's any necessity for cross-examination.

Does that conclude your case, Mr. Cahill?

I reckon it does, Your Honor.

You may stand down.

We will recess until two o'clock,

at which time, I will hear the closing arguments.

You are now excused, ladies and gentlemen.

[indistinct chatter]

You've got five minutes.

[instrumental music]

[footsteps approaching]

- Hello, Larry. - Hello.

- Do you mind my coming here? - No.

I have something to say.

I don't know quite how to say it.

I'm sorry.

- Why? - I believe you.

Thanks.

I went after you because I was jealous.

Because I still wanted you.

When it's over, if you need me for anything,

if I can do anything...

I'll be waiting.

There won't be any waiting.

But they believe you, Larry. Some of them.

They wouldn't be out this long.

Maybe they like the free meals.

Don't, Larry.

Or else they're waiting for morning,

so everyone will be on hand for the show.

But, Larry, if you can convince me...

The jury doesn't matter.

Or the judge.

Nor the people in the orchestra seats.

Or even you, Skipper.

I listened to my story.

I brought in my own verdict.

[indistinct chatter]

Man #2: You will please rise.

Department 14, Superior Court.

Leeman for the County of Los Angeles,

State of California, is now in session.

The Honorable Charles Fletcher, judge presiding.

Please have the jury brought in.

[indistinct chatter]

[chairs clattering]

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

have you agreed upon a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

Judge Charles: Please hand the verdict to the bailiff.

Mr. Clerk, will you please read the verdict?

"People of the state of California,

against Lawrence Ballentine.

We, the jury, in the above entitled action..."

[screaming]

[gunshot]

[clamoring]

[gavel banging]

The court will come to order.

[gavel banging]

The court will come to order.

To complete the record,

the clerk will return the verdict.

"We, the jury, in the above entitled action,

find the defendant, Lawrence Ballentine,

not guilty."

[orchestral music]

[instrumental music]