All language subtitles for 18 - The Adventure of the Two

In just three seconds,
this woman is going to be...

Stabbed?

Who killed her?

Was it the bereaved husband?

That's a lie.

The temperamental artist?

You have sold a forgery!

The confused psychiatrist?

Unfortunately,
her death terminated the treatment.

The enterprising auctioneer?

$5,000 for a Vargo is unworthy.

The kissing cousin?

He was a brute.
He abused her constantly.

Or was it someone else?

Match wits with Ellery Queen

and see if you can guess
who done it

Mrs. McGraw?

Oh, Edna, you startled me.

Sorry, Ma'am.
I'm home early.

Can I get you anything?

No, no, nothing, please.
I don't want to be disturbed.

Certainly, Ma'am.

Oh, it's you.

Come over here.
I want you to see something.

Ah!

No.

No, no.

It's supposed to be
a high-powered rifle,

and I don't hear the ricochet.

The ricochet.
Yes, Mr. Brimmer.

How can I hold an audience if
the sound effects aren't convincing?

Give me the horses again.

It sounds like two coconut shells.

But, Mr. Brimmer,
it is two coconut shells.

Complaints.

I'm getting complaints
from my listeners

about the sound effects.

Mr. Brimmer, that -- that letter
was written by a 9-year-old girl.

I don't care how old she is.
She is one of my listeners.

Now give me the gun falling.

[ Loud clatter of falling equipment ]

We are not doing
Fibber McGee's closet.

I'm sorry, Simon.
I knocked over your stand.

Ah, Queen, you received
my telephone message.

Yes, Simon,
you said it was important.

It is.

I'm working on the script
for next week's show.

I want to consult you
on a technical point,

a case you worked on.

Well, I'll be glad to help if I can.

[ Phone rings ]

Yes?

Yes. For you, Mr. Queen.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

Hello?

Oh, hi, Dad.

Stabbed?

Who?

Yeah.

All right, I'll be right over.

Did I hear you say "stabbed"?

Yeah, I'm sorry, Simon.
I have to leave.

Just a moment, Queen --
that's my script you've got there.

Lillian McGraw?

What an incredible coincidence.

I saw her just this afternoon
at Prescott's.

The auction gallery?
Did she buy anything?

She did, indeed.

Come along, Queen.

I'll give you a lift
and fill you in on the way.

All right.

I thought at the time
there was something strange

about what happened
this afternoon.

Well, just what did happen?

Mr. and Mrs. McGraw and her cousin,
Celeste Wakefield,

were bidding
on an exquisite Vermeer.

I was seated just behind them.

$200,000.

Thank you, sir.

$220,0007

$220,0007

Thank you, sir.
$250,000?

Thank you, Madam.

$300,0007

Do I hear $300,000?

Thank you, sir.
I have $300,000.

Would someone like
to make it $350,000?

$350,0007

I have $300,000.

$300,000 once, $300,000 twice.

Sold to Mr. McGraw at $300,000.

Well, we got it, honey.

A good price, too.

Congratulations.
You've acquired a rare masterpiece.

- Thank you, Mister...
- Brimmer, Simon Brimmer.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
item number 7 on our program --

Simon Brimmer.

"Woman in Blue" by Sergio Vargo,
signed in the lower right-hand corner,

from a private collection
in Florence.

Thank you, Mr. Lucheck.

Well, our broker told us
to stick to the Dutch.

- Let's go, honey.
- Sit down, Clint.

This is an exquisite example
of Vargo's earliest work.

May I suggest
that we start the bidding at...

$5,000?

$5,000?

Thank you, Mr. Brimmer.

Do I hear any advance on $5,000?

Do I hear $10,000?
$10,000?

Really.
$5,000 for a Vargo is unworthy.

Will someone not make it $10,000?
Do I hear $10,000?

Thank you, Madam.

I have $10,000.

You don't want that Vargo.

That guy's still alive.

Sit down, Clint.
We'll leave when I'm ready.

Do I hear $15,000?

I have $15,000.
$20,000?

$20,000?

Thank you, sir.

$25,000?

$25,000?

Thank you, Madam.

$30,000?

Lillian, darling, I don't --

I have $30,000.

$35,000?

Do I hear $35,000?

$35,000?

Ah, Monsieur Vargo,
this is a great honor.

We did not expect you --

Do I hear $35,000?

$32,000?

$31,000?

$31,000?

Thank you, sir.

Dear, we've already
spent $300,000 on the Dutch.

$31,000 -- any advance on $31,0007?
I mean, don't you think that's enough?

It's too much for a Vargo.

I don't care. It's my money.

I have $31,000 once,
$31,000 twice --

$50,000.

I've been offered $50,000.

Thank you, Madam.

Any advance on $50,000?

$50,000?

$50,000 once, $50,000 twice.

Sold to Mrs. McGraw at $50,000.

Isn't that an awful lot
to pay for a modern painting?

More than double what it's worth.

But that's not all.

After the auction, another
interesting incident occurred.

Prescott,
I must have a word with you.

Monsieur Vargo, an honor.

I insist that The "Woman in Blue"
be returned by that woman.

That's quite impossible.

I have her check.

Return it.

You don't seem to understand.
The matter is out of my hands.

Besides, although you are the artist,
you are not the seller.

You fool.

Don't you realize
you have not sold a Vargo?

You have sold a forgery!

You mean Vargo himself
claims the painting's a forgery?

Interesting, isn't it, Queen?

Driver, that's it on the right.

I'll take care of it, Inspector.

All right, that'll be about it.

Oh, there you are, Ellery.

Brimmer, what are you doing here?

An interested citizen coming forth
with information, Inspector.

I was at the auction this afternoon.

Yeah, we know all about that.

The victim bought
two expensive paintings.

It looks like she was killed
when she surprised a thief.

Dad, Simon told me that Mr. McGraw
paid $350,000 this afternoon

for these two paintings.

What? Unbelievable.

Exquisite.

Apparently you have no appreciation
of the rich patina of age, Inspector.

Well, I don't like it.
It's too dark.

Dad, take a look at this painting.
You notice anything unusual?

Yeah, eyes don't match,
nose is off-center.

I mean the signature.

The Vargo signature
has been scraped off.

What's this under it?
"Lazar."

Vargo may have been right.

Perhaps someone else
painted this picture.

Inspector, may I borrow
your magnifying glass?

The city stopped issuing
magnifying glasses

when gas lighting went out.

Did anybody see the killer?

Not really.
The maid must have scared him off.

The maid?

Like I said, my sister had the flu,
so I came home early.

Is this your regular night off?

Yes, sir.

Mrs. McGraw was here in the study,
sitting right over there.

And no one else was home?

No, sir.

Miss Wakefield went to a movie,
and Mr. McGraw --

he went out earlier.

The McGraws are from Houston,

staying with Miss Wakefield,
a cousin.

We're looking for them now.
Go on, Edna.

Well, I asked Mrs. McGraw if there
was anything I could get her.

"No, nothing," she said,
kind of upset -- I could tell.

So, I went to the closet
to hang up my coat,

and that's when
I heard the door slam.

You heard the door slam?
Which door?

That door, sir.

I wondered what had caused it.

Did you go and see?

No, sir.

I'd finished hanging up my coat,
and then I started for the kitchen.

And that's when I heard the scream.

I hurried to the door,
and it was locked.

That happens
when the catch is pushed in.

I called her name,
and she didn't answer.

So, I unlocked the door and --

[ Sobbing ]

Yes, yes.

Now, when you came into the room,
did you see anyone?

Excluding Mrs. McGraw, of course.

I saw the French window closing.
I was too scared to go and look out.

That delay allowed the killer to go
out through the French windows.

Probably panicked,
left the paintings.

Was the French window locked?

Usually, only I can't say
about tonight.

How about it, Velie?

No sign of forced entry.
Ground-floor apartment.

Anybody could have
come in that way.

What about the murder weapon?

Letter opener right through the heart.
Probably on that desk over there.

No fingerprints.

Uh-huh.

Anything else?

Only this, Maestro -- nail file.
It was found in the victim's hand.

It was covered with some blue stuff.

Paint flakes.

You say it was found
in the victim's hand?

- Right.
- Yeah?

Pardon, Monsieur.

May I examine the Vargo painting?

Who are you?

Inspector Claude Gravette,
Department of State Treasures,

a branch of the French Sûreté.

My credentials.

Thank you, Edna.

Yes, sir.

I'm Inspector Richard Queen,
New York City Police Department.

This is my son, Ellery.

Now, what's a French detective doing
on a New York murder investigation?

Ah!

Since the return of the Goering
treasures after the war,

my government has become alarmed

about the number of irregularities
which have come to light.

Do you mean forgeries?

Let me put it this way, gentlemen.

Paul Gauguin produced
about 90 works during his lifetime.

At last count, 300 of them have been
discovered in your country.

Excuse me.
My name is Brimmer.

I noticed you at the Prescott Gallery
this afternoon.

Apparently, you also overheard
Vargo's accusation.

Precisely.

While I was on my way here
to examine the painting,

I learned about the tragedy.

So, the thief came in here
to steal a valuable painting,

nearly gets caught,
kills Mrs. McGraw,

and the painting's really a forgery?

Maybe the killer knew
the painting was a forgery.

Evidently, everyone except me
has overlooked the significance

of the changed signature.

Now, what's that, Brimmer?

In her dying throes,
the victim has scraped off

the signature "Vargo" to reveal
the signature "Lazar.”

It's obvious, Inspector --

Mrs. McGraw was trying to reveal
the identity of her killer.

A dying clue, eh?

I don't think so, Dad.

Mrs. McGraw scraped the signature
off before she was stabbed.

How do you figure that?

Well the paint scrapings were
found on the sofa cushions,

not on the floor next to the body.

There wasn't time for her
to scrape the signature off.

She was stabbed through
the heart with a letter opener.

Now, careful, careful.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

That cost $50,000.

But another thing, Dad,

I think there's another painting
underneath this Vargo.

Have a look.

You mean done by Lazar?

That's my guess.

Inspector, that guy Vargo
you sent for is here.

Yeah? Well, send him in.

I must protest, Inspector.

Why am I being treated
like a criminal?

Take it easy.

We're only asking some questions
about this painting.

Oh, yes, yes.
Magnificent, no?

The strength and force of my youth.

What a pity
it has been desecrated.

You mean this is a genuine Vargo?

Of course.

Can anyone doubt it?

Such design, such power.

But didn't you claim yesterday
at the Prescott Galleries

that this was a forgery?

I — —

Did I?

Well, obviously I was mistaken.

I didn't get a close look
at it yesterday.

It was 25 years ago
that I painted this masterpiece.

Then maybe you can explain why it
was painted over another painting.

Ah, it was very common
in those days.

After all, a new canvas and stretcher
cost so much more expensive

than some cheap old painting.

Ah. And you can't remember
how you got it?

When I'm inspired,
the medium is no matter.

I once did a painting
on the cover of an old suitcase.

No, no, no.

One evening,
I was moved, inspired,

and I created the "Woman in Blue,”
a masterpiece.

What I paint on
is of no consequence.

And the name Lazar
means nothing to you?

What?

I said the name
Lazar means nothing to you?

- No.
- Are you sure?

- Yes.
- You're not leveling with us, Vargo.

First you say it's a forgery,
and then you say it's not.

I think Mrs. McGraw knew

there was a painting underneath
the "Woman in Blue."

Can you shed any light on that,
Mr. Vargo?

Me?
What makes you think I --?

The truth, Vargo!

Oh, very well.

If you must know, I told her.

You told her what, when, where?

Last week.

Last week at one of those
terrible artistic cocktail parties.

I met her there.

I didn't even know her name,
but there was something

vaguely familiar about her.

Her face --

I'd seen that face a long time ago,
and then it dawned on me.

It was on that ridiculous canvas
that I painted over

when I created
the "Woman in Blue" —

the one done by that
hopelessly realistic fellow.

What did you say his name was?

Lazar.

Yes.

She seemed upset.

She questioned me extensively
about the Lazar painting.

And that's all?

That was the extent
of my contact with Mrs. McGraw.

Sounds fishy to me.

We'll have those two paintings
checked by an expert.

You can go, but don't leave town.

[ Laughs ]

I have no intention of leaving
New York, Inspector.

I, too, am interested
in the opinions of an expert.

What was the name of that expert,
the one we used last year?

Ellery?

Huh?

Dad, something that maid said
last night is bothering me.

Let's go back there
and have another look.

Wait in here, please.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Well?

Now, it's the door
slamming that bothers me.

Dad, you sit down over here.

Can't you just tell me
what's on your mind?

Yeah.

You're Mrs. McGraw.

Okay, I'm Mrs. McGraw.

Now, Edna heard that door
slamming when she hung up her coat.

That's when the killer
came through the French windows.

Get to the point.

All right, the point is
it's late and it's dark,

and you're alone in the house,
except for the maid,

and suddenly I come
through those French doors.

Wouldn't you be frightened?
Wouldn't you scream?

She did scream.

Yeah, but how soon?

See, there was a definite gap
between the slam and the scream.

She didn't scream on the slam
because it was someone she knew

who came through
those French doors.

Oh, she screamed,

but only after she realized that
whoever came through those doors

was going to kill her.

Well, Inspector, Ellery...

Did you find out
who killed Lillian yet?

These things take time,
Mr. McGraw.

Mm-hmm.

Well, down where I come from,
we know what to do with killers.

We find them.

We don't let them
just walk around.

Well, speaking of that,

you were saying
that last night you took a walk?

Yeah, that's right -- Stork Club.

I went over there
and had a few drinks.

Lillian had one of her headaches.

Headaches?

Did she have headaches often?

Well, the last few weeks.

She was seeing a Dr. Friedland.

Yes, her doctor in Houston
recommended him,

but it didn't seem to do much good.

What time did you leave
the Stork Club?

Oh, I guess about midni--
Oh, no.

It was one of them cat burglars
that killed Lillian.

Don't get upset, Mr. McGraw.
Just trying to check all the angles.

Mm-hmm.

Mr. McGraw, I understand
the money was in your wife's name?

That's right.

She make a will?

Sure, sure, she had a will.

Celeste was to get 1/3,
and I was to get the rest.

Anything wrong with that?

Did you and your wife
ever have any trouble?

I was very much in love
with Lillian, Inspector.

I mean, we were
childhood sweethearts.

Oh, she wasn't all that easy
to live with.

I mean, she was a little spoiled.

You see, her folks were rich --
you know, oil, cattle.

My folks were dirt poor.

They found out we were
gonna be married,

and they shipped her off
to one of those...

fancy finishing schools
in Switzerland.

Hoping she'd forget about you, huh?

Yeah. It almost worked, too,
but Celeste -- God bless her soul --

she went over
and straightened Lillian out.

And when they got back...
we were married.

That was the summer of 1922.

Mr. McGraw, when did you
start collecting paintings?

Oh, that was Lillian's idea.

I mean, you know, she liked
to show off for her friends.

I figured it was, you know,
a good investment.

I'm afraid your last investment
is a little shaky.

What?

We'll have them
checked by an expert,

but there's a question of forgery.

Forgery?

$50,000 fake?

I'm gonna tell you something --

at Prescott Gallery,
they're a bunch of swindlers.

That has yet to be proved.

Oh, my investigations also
cast considerable doubt

on the Prescott Gallery,
Mr. Brimmer.

Professor Saltzman.

Gentlemen, I have made
an exhaustive analysis

of the pigments
and the brush strokes,

even the fibers in the canvas.

I'm sorry, Mr. McGraw.

You have purchased
a clever forgery.

Well, Inspector, I told you
there was something wrong

about that Vargo.

Idiot!

Do you mean to say
that this exquisite painting

is not a genuine Vargo?

No, no, Mr. Vargo,
not your painting.

It is the Vermeer
that is not genuine.

Oh, the Vermeer.

That Vermeer, yeah.

What?

Then the Vargo is authentic?

Unquestionably.

Thank you, Doctor.

Gentlemen,
my reputation is vindicated.

I bid you good day.

What about the Lazar signature?

As your son surmised,

there is a painting
under the "Woman in Blue."

Vargo painted over the work of Lazar,
an obscure French painter,

whose reputation is better
known in French police circles.

What's that?

Lazar only painted
a handful of pictures.

He was chiefly remembered
for murdering his art dealer --

Mueller by name --

with an ax.

A sensation in the French press
in 1922.

An ax murder?

Of course.
I remember now.

The Mueller case.

I used that material
in one of my shows --

changed it around, naturally.

In my version,
the killer was apprehended --

by me, of course.

You mean they didn't catch Lazar?

No, no, Lazar escaped.

He set fired to the boat
trying to cover his crime.

They were on Mueller's boat
in Cherbourg harbor.

Lazar was implicated, however,
by a painting he left behind

which was not completely
consumed in the flames.

Apparently, they quarreled.

Mueller was known
to have a violent temper.

And Lazar was never found?

No, he has remained
somewhat of a mystery.

The police didn't even have
a good description of him.

No photograph of him
is known to exist.

Professor Saltzman,
is there any way of telling

what Lazar painted
under the Vargo?

Alas, the fluoroscope
revealed no details.

The only way to be sure...
would be to scrape the Vargo off.

No, excuse me.
We know what's under that painting.

Now, if Sergio Vargo
is telling the truth --

he claims it's a picture of your wife.

Lillian?

Painted by this ax killer?
Not a chance.

Well, she was in Europe in 1922,

You told us that, Mr. McGraw.

And we also know
that she paid a lot more money

for that painting
than she should have.

And more to the point,
she was murdered

in the act of scraping off the Vargo.

Wait a minute.
Hold on, will you?

Now, Lillian was in Switzerland.

What would she have been
doing posing for this Lazar fella?

Didn't Mueller have a mistress?

Supposedly.

She disappeared
after the Mueller murder.

You're crazy, all of you!

That is not Lillian's picture.
It can't be!

Are you prepared to spend $50,000
to prove that, Mr. McGraw?

What?

There's a simply solution,
if you feel your wife's reputation

is worth the money.

Simply scrape off the Vargo
and see.

Gentlemen, please.

You would totally
destroy the Vargo.

It's my money,
and it's my painting.

Unmistakable.

I can't believe it.

She looks exactly
like the day we were married.

Well, Inspector, I'd say you have
a brand-new case on your hands.

Wouldn't you agree, Queen?

Yeah, Simon, I'd --
I'd have to agree.

Ellery, I'm confused.

We've got the murder
of a wealthy woman who collects art.

No witnesses, no evidence.

It looks as if she's knifed
by somebody

who wants to steal a painting she's
just bought, only it's a forgery.

But it turns out it's not a forgery.

Dad, I still think
the key to the puzzle

is what happened
in Cherbourg 25 years ago

when Miss Wakefield went to Europe,
brought Lily McGraw home.

I hope so.

Oh, Inspector, Mr. Queen,
please come in.

I was going to call you.

Hello, Miss Wakefield.
Feeling better by now?

Yes, I was so upset last night
there was something

I forgot to tell you.

Brimmer, Brimmer, not again.

Good evening, Inspector.
A social call.

Miss Wakefield
and I share an interest in art.

Isn't it a comfort
to have somebody of his sensibility

here at a time like this?

Please, sit down.

May I get you a drink?

No, no, thank you.

You said there was something
you forgot to tell us, Miss Wakefield?

Mrs. McGraw had a caller
after the auction.

Oh? Who?

No one seems to know.

If you don't mind, Brimmer,

I'd rather Miss Wakefield
answer the question.

Well, I had gone to take a nap,
and the maid was out marketing.

I heard voices down here
in the study.

Could it have been Mr. McGraw?

Oh, no, it wasn't Clint's voice.
I'm sure of that.

Did Mrs. McGraw say who it was?

Well, actually,
Inspector, I dozed off,

and I didn't remember
it until this morning.

What about that doctor
she was seeing?

Dr. Friedland?

Yeah.

No, I'm sure he doesn't
make house calls.

I see we all agree the killer
was someone Mrs. McGraw knew.

Naturally.

Obviously you've checked
my alibi, Inspector.

That's part of my job.

The ticket seller at Radio City
remembered you.

Then why are you here?

For the same reason
I am here, my dear.

I had just told Miss Wakefield
that Mrs. McGraw's portrait

was under the Vargo painting.

Well, if Mrs. McGraw posed
for the painting,

she must have known Lazar.

Now, you brought
her back from Europe.

Can you tell us anything
about what happened?

Ah, are you sure
I can't fix you a drink?

Quite sure.

Well, I suppose it's going
to come out sooner or later, anyway.

Poor Clint. I'd hoped he'd never
have to know the truth about this.

As you know, Lillian's parents
were very wealthy.

Lily and Clint were engaged --
sort of a high-school romance.

You and Mrs. McGraw are --
were cousins?

No, I'm -- I'm Clint's cousin.

Anyway, Lillian's parents sent her
off to a girls school in Geneva.

And Mr. McGraw remained
in Houston?

Yes, he was trying desperately
to make a success of himself.

Well, after a few months,
it became apparent

that there was something wrong.

With Mrs. McGraw?

Yes, she, uh...

She stopped attending classes,
and she stopped writing.

Naturally, her parents
were very upset.

In the end, I used my savings
to go find her.

She had left Geneva.

There was nothing but these letters

from all over France
asking for money.

You see, she...
she had always wanted to study art,

but she found school stifling.

Well, it wasn't easy.

In the end,
I did find her in Cherbourg.

Poor Clint.
He never suspected.

"Suspected"?

She'd married a drunk art dealer
named Mueller.

Married?

Yes.

He was a brute.
He abused her constantly.

She was in a terrible state
when I found her.

The night I arrived, she had taken
an overdose of sleeping pills.

I was afraid she was going to die.

Go on.

Well, they were living
in this boat of Mueller's,

a filthy little barge
on Cherbourg harbor.

And Lazar -- did you meet him?

Yes, he was a client of Mueller's.

He arrived the night I arrived --
drunk.

There was a terrible row,
something about paintings,

and then there was this fight.

And Lazar killed Mueller?

Yes.

It was terrible.

He did it with an ax.

And then he set fire to the boat.

I barely got Lillian out.

You actually saw Lazar kill Mueller?

Yes, I remember it vividly.

What did he look like?

Cruel.

He had a full beard
and vicious eyes.

You think you'd recognize him
if you saw him again?

Oh, I don't know, Mr. Queen.
It was so long ago.

Anyway, you've probably
guessed the rest of it.

I finally got Lillian home to Texas,

and she and Clint
were married a month later.

Ellery, are you wondering
what I'm wondering?

You mean about Lazar?

Yeah -- what happened to him?
Is it possible --?

Good question, Dad,
good question.

Something else bothers me, too.

Yeah? What?

One of those paintings is a forgery.

Prescott sold it to the McGraws.

What do you say you and I pay a visit
to that gallery tomorrow morning?

Look, Prescott -- you sold
Mrs. McGraw a phony Vermeer.

Eight hours later,
she was murdered.

Sergio Vargo accused you
of selling forgeries

immediately after the auction.

But he was mistaken.

The Vargo is genuine.

But the Vermeer is a fake.

Inspector, I've always
acted in good faith.

Anton.

Anton Lucheck,
my resident authenticator,

assured me that the Vermeer
was genuine.

I had no reason
to doubt its authenticity.

Perhaps my eyes
are beginning to fail me, huh?

Anton, I'm afraid there can be
no excuse for such an oversight.

We have a responsibility
to our clients.

I want you to check every painting
in the house immediately.

Oui, Monsieur.

Other questionable paintings

have passed through your gallery,
Mr. Prescott.

Gentlemen, I assure you
that if any forgeries

have been sold
through the Prescott Gallery,

the money will be returned
immediately.

Since we opened 25 years ago,

the Prescott Gallery
has enjoyed a spotless reputation.

How long has Lucheck
worked for you?

Since he's been in this country.
Since 1923.

Mr. Prescott, I wonder
if you could tell me...

Have any other Lazar paintings
turned up on the market recently?

Not in this gallery.

We deal only in major artists.

I see.

I suppose you couldn't tell me
what he looked like.

Looked like?

I have no idea.

Our police don't even have
a description.

No doubt, that is why he
was never apprehended.

Mm. I see.

Inspector, it is possible
the forger became fearful

his deceit had been discovered.

He went to Mr. McGraw's house
to steal the evidence --

At this point,
I'm not ruling out anything.

Incidentally,
the barman at the Stork Club

says that McGraw left somewhere
around 11:00, not 12:00.

What about Mrs. McGraw's
mysterious visitor?

Nobody we've talked to
has come up with anything.

I have been working
with your bunco squad.

They have gone over
the Prescott Gallery.

Find anything suspicious?

Nothing, not one painting
which could be considered a forgery.

Inspector, that report
from the Immigration Department

just came in.

They have no record
of Anton Lucheck

clearing Immigrations.

I thought there was something
suspicious about that guy.

- Keep digging, Velie.
- Yes, sir.

And incidentally,
those people you questioned

about the mysterious visitor
to the Wakefield townhouse --

question them again.

Neighbors, delivery boys,
everybody.

Right.

Well, nearly suppertime.
Think I'll grab a bite to eat.

Care to join me,
Monsieur Gravette?

I'd be delighted.

Ellery? I'm buying.

Huh?

Oh, no, thanks, Dad.
I got an appointment.

But you call me
if you get anything.

I'll leave -- I'll leave a number.

How long have you
had this problem, Mr. Queen?

A couple of days.

I've been trying to figure it out,
but it just doesn't make any sense.

I see.

You're confused, disoriented.

The fact that she didn't scream
for several seconds

tells me that she knew whoever
it was that came in

through the French window --
and the blue flakes.

Blue flakes?

She must have known
it was her own face under there.

That's why she scraped it off.

She scraped off her face?

No, the Vargo.
At least, the name.

[ Sighs ]

And what about Lazar?

He could have shaved off
his beard.

The beard?

Where did the fake Dutch
master come from?

Was it the forger
who came through the window,

and why didn't she lock it?

Mr. Queen, this "she”
you keep referring to...

it's your mother.

No.

Lillian McGraw.

Mrs. McGraw?

Yes, that was tragic, but when did
the poor woman mention me to you?

Dr. Friedland,
I don't think you understand.

I'm trying to solve a murder.

Oh, I see.

Well, I'm terribly sorry,

but I cannot violate
my professional ethics.

Look, Dr. Friedland,

she was murdered under rather
mysterious circumstances,

and if you can tell me
what was bothering her,

it might help me
figure out who killed her.

Well, I'm afraid there's very little
I can tell you that will help.

Mrs. McGraw came to see me
about a week ago,

referred by her doctor in Texas.

She'd developed a blinding
headache at a cocktail party,

followed by dizzy spells.

Can you tell me what caused it?

A form of depression caused
by the repressed memory

of something extremely unpleasant
that happened long ago in her youth.

Can you tell me what that was?

-Oh.

I was exploring her subconscious
under hypnosis,

but unfortunately
her death terminated the treatment.

[ Phone rings ]

Yes?
Oh, yes, he's here.

It's for you, Mr. Queen.

Ah.

Thank you.

Hello?

Oh, hi, Velie.

Glad I tracked you down, Maestro.

It turns out that Lucheck
did time 15 years ago

in California on a forgery rap.

We're gonna pick him up now.

Your dad thought you might
like to be in on it.

What's the address?

Got it.
I'll be there in 10 minutes.

Thanks.

Maestro?

Hi, Velie.

Dad here yet?

He had to pick up the warrant.

Oh, here he is.

Paperwork.

Pretty soon, you'll need a judge's
permission to question a suspect.

Lucheck's up there, Inspector.
I can see the lights.

All right, you take the rear entrance.
We'll take the front.

Ryan, cover us.

- Ellery, you get in --
- No, Dad, I'm not waiting in the car.

At least until
we get him into custody.

Dad!

All right, hold it. Police.

Hold it! Police!

I got him, Inspector.

I thought you were thieves.

Really, Inspector.

Really, Mr. Prescott.

Dad, this one's still wet.

And look at this --
two undiscovered Picassos,

both identical.

It looks as if we have
our forgers, Inspector.

Yeah.

But do we have our killers?

They're out on bail already?

I can't place them
at the scene of the murder.

No witnesses.

And they claim
they were together at the time.

Let's face it, Ellery,
I don't have a murder case.

Well, what have we got, Dad?

A headache,
and it's driving me up the wall.

I wish I had my tummy fizz.

I hope I'm not disturbing you,
Inspector.

Just what I need.

I think I can help you, Inspector.

Let me guess --
you've brought me an aspirin.

No, Inspector, I've brought you
the solution to your case.

My private investigation
has unraveled the mystery,

and if you'll join me

at the Prescott Gallery
this evening at 8:30,

I'll reveal the murderer to you then.

If Brimmer is concealing evidence,
I'll have his hide this time.

- What are you doing?
- Looking for my other shoe.

There it is, under the desk.

Oh.

Well, if he solved the crime,
what difference does it make?

It makes a lot of difference.

If he gives this story to the press,

he'll make us look
like the Keystone Cops.

I still think the solution
hinges on that painting,

and I wish I could figure it out.

Well, you better hurry because
Brimmer will have the killer

and my hide if we don't get moving.

What's the hurry?
It's only 10 after 7:10.

What?

Let me see your watch.

Here.

Ellery, it's 6 minutes after 8:00.
You've got it on backwards.

Oh. Well that's what comes
from hurrying.

I'll warm up the car.

Dumb.

Well, that's it.

How could I have missed it?

Now I know who killed
Lillian McGraw.

And if you've been
watching closely,

you've seen the clue,
and more than once.

Have you got it?

Was it Lillian's husband,
cousin Celeste, Prescott?

What about Lucheck?

And how about Vargo?

And is Claude Gravette
really who he says he is?

Tell you one thing -- the clue is
as plain as the nose on your face.

[ Indistinct chatter ]

Ah, you've finally arrived.
Now we shall begin.

Would you mind taking a seat,
Inspector, Ellery?

I've asked everyone to be present
because each of you

is interested
in the Lillian McGraw murder.

One of you, in particular --
the one who stabbed her.

Let us consider for a moment
what happened 25 years ago

in France.

Mrs. McGraw,
then a strong-willed young girl,

had defied her parents and married
a young Bohemian named Mueller,

who had a painter friend
named Lazar.

Marri--

Married? What are you
talking about, Brimmer?

Lazar painted this portrait
of Mrs. McGraw, then Mrs. Mueller.

Perhaps there was even
some jealousy involved.

One night,
there was a quarrel.

Lazar, in a rage,
took an ax and murdered Mueller.

That's a lie!
I mean, that... that never happened.

No, Clint, I'm afraid it's true.

And who would know better
than Miss Wakefield,

who had arrived to bring
the unfortunate young woman home?

She witnessed the crime.

Lazar, who wore a full beard
in those days,

set fire to the boat
and ran away,

only to re-appear 25 years later
here in New York.

Are you saying
that Lazar killed Mrs. McGraw?

Precisely, Inspector.

More significantly, Lazar
is sitting here in this room now.

The maid's statement proves

that Mrs. McGraw's killer
was known to her.

A member of the household?

Or possibly someone else

whose close relationship
to Mrs. McGraw is not yet apparent.

Close? What?

No, no, no, I would have known
if anybody was close --

The police have known for sometime
that someone visited Mrs. McGraw

just a few hours before the murder.

They had been unable
to identify the caller.

As a result
of my private investigation,

I now know who that visitor was.

If you're concealing evidence,
Brimmer --

I'm concealing nothing, Inspector.

I've merely employed methods
more effective than the police.

Would Eddie Hummel
please stand up?

We questioned that kid.

What did he tell you
he didn't tell us?

Hey, you didn't tell me
there were gonna be cops here.

Did you question him with
a $20 bill in your hand, Inspector?

If the police spent that kind
of money for information,

the city would go broke.

To continue...

Eddie Hummel makes deliveries
for the Periwinkle Florist Shop.

He made a delivery of flowers
at 5:20 p.m.

on the afternoon of the murder,
next door to the victim's residence.

Eddie, did you see anyone come out

of the residence next door
to your delivery?

Yeah.

You're certain?

Why?

Well, you meet a lot of weird people
in New York,

but, I mean,
this guy I got to remember.

Do you see
that person in this room?

Yeah, this guy with the funny hat.

What if I did visit
Mrs. McGraw that afternoon?

It proves nothing!

It proves that you were
acquainted with Mrs. McGraw,

which accounts for the fact
that she didn't scream

when you went back later to kill her.

Why would I kill her?

Because you had to have
that painting.

Because you, Sergio Vargo,
are, in reality, Pierre Lazar.

That is insane.

My style is completely different.

You murdered Mueller,

possibly in a quarrel
over his pretty American wife,

whose portrait you'd painted.

Absurd.

You saw her again here
in New York, and you recognized her.

You had already painted
the "Woman in Blue"

over the old portrait,

a different rendering
of the same subject...

Nonsense --

...in the new style you were
beginning to experiment with,

the new style which eventually
sold and made you famous.

No, no, no, no, no!
It's a lie!

Yes, of course!

That's how she knew
what was under that weird face!

You painted over your own picture
before you killed Mueller!

Exactly.

Lillian McGraw was the one person

who could link Vargo
with that murder,

and Vargo saw her buy
that painting at that auction,

which meant she remembered.

Inspector, I commend
the gentleman to your custody.

That's good enough for me.

Velie, put the cuffs on.

No, no, no, no!

- Hold out your --
- You're making a terrible mistake!

Just calm down, buster!

Simon --
Velie, hold it, please.

Don't put the cuffs on him yet.
Simon, I'm sorry, but you're wrong.

Vargo couldn't have
killed Lillian McGraw.

Surely, Queen, you of all people
can see how my theory fits.

That's the point, Simon --
it doesn't fit.

Now, you're close to the truth,

but you're overlooking
one small detail,

and that's the mole
on Mrs. McGraw's cheek.

You're talking nonsense.

Am [?

Dad, have you got that picture?

Thank you.

Now, a picture shows
the way a face looks in real life.

Now, Mrs. McGraw's mole
was on her right cheek.

In Lazar's portrait,
the mole is on the left cheek.

Now, watch what happens
when I put the picture up to a mirror.

The portrait was done
from a mirror image.

It's a self-portrait.

Now, the mole in the mirror
is on the same side

as it is in the portrait.

Are you saying that Lillian
painted her own self-portrait

under the name Laz--?

Yes, Mr. McGraw.

Now, picture, if you will,
a young American girl

sent to a finishing school
in Switzerland

by her wealthy parents,

but she really prefers
the Bohemian life of painting.

But she didn't want her
parents to know

that she's painting in France,
so she invented the name Lazar,

which she used to sign her pictures.

Well, if Mrs. McGraw was Lazar,

then she must be the one
who killed Mueller.

Well, my guess is that
that's what she thought, too,

but I don't think
she killed anybody, Simon.

That's why she was seeing
a psychiatrist.

To help her try to remember.

For heaven's sakes, Ellery,
then who did kill Mrs. McGraw?

The same person
who killed Mueller --

Celeste Wakefield.

- Wait --
- Please, Mr. McGraw.

It was something you said
that tripped you up, Miss Wakefield.

You described Lazar
as an uncouth man with a beard.

You also said Lillian took
an overdose of sleeping pills.

She couldn't have killed anyone.

You found Lillian
married to a drunk.

Well, there went your plans
to marry your cousin, Clint,

into a rich family.

You did swing that ax, didn't you?

All these years,

you had Lillian believing
that you were protecting her.

That's why you're in the will.

But under her doctor's care,
she was starting to remember.

And when she did,
you'd lose your hold on her.

She told you about her conversation
with Vargo,

why she wanted that picture.

She wanted that picture to help her
remember what happened.

I told her to leave it alone,
but she wouldn't listen.

Why did she have
to drag up the past?

You thought
she was alone that night.

You left the French doors unlocked,
and then you came back.

I wanted people to believe
it was a burglary.

I lived all my life
on that small allowance

she gave me,
while she squandered her money.

And then I realized
I could have my own money.

I'm sorry, Clint.

Velie.

One thing I'd like to know, Vargo,

why did you go to see her
that afternoon?

From the way she behaved,

I knew she was more interested
in the picture under my masterpiece.

I was afraid she would
destroy my "Woman in Blue"

to get at the under painting.

I thought it was merely
the vanity of a rich woman.

Sorry we had
to destroy your painting.

Oh, true genius
can never be defeated.

I shall create another masterpiece,
another "Woman in Blue,"

this time more beautiful.

And now it will be worth a fortune.

I sold the other one years ago
for a pittance.

Now I've seen it all.

Nice piece of work, Queen.

You followed
my diversionary ploy perfectly.

Diversionary ploy?
Oh, come on, Brimmer.

Surely, Inspector, you don't believe
that I didn't realize

that Mrs. McGraw
had painted that self-portrait?

I have the practiced eye
of an expert.

Wasn't it I who pointed out
that the Vermeer was a forgery?

Wasn't it you that pointed out

it was the Vargo
that was the forgery?

Nonsense.

Dr. Saltzman and I both spotted
that something was wrong

about that Vermeer.

What was it, Doctor,
that tipped you off?

Actually, Mr. Brimmer,
it's almost a perfect copy.

However, the forger overdid
the glazing to make it look old.

It was too dark.

I told you that the first time
I laid eyes on it.

Come along, Maestro.