All language subtitles for They.Wont.Believe.Me.1947.Bluray.english-sdh

[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]