All language subtitles for Perry Mason S05E29 The Case of the Promoters Pillbox.DVDRip.NonHI.en.CBS

♪♪

I'm Mr. Corby's
secretary. Can I help you?

No, thank you.

I was just leaving.

I wouldn't.

There you are, Miriam.

Don't go away.
We've got problems.

Charlie, there
was a man in here.

Someone ran out of here
just before you came in.

He looked very strange, like
maybe he'd stolen something.

Someone?

A young guy. He was shoving
something inside his coat.

A script, maybe.

I'd better call the gate.

Petty theft. Forget about it.

What's our problem
this time, Charlie?

Get your book.

I'll give you some rewrite
on tonight's shooting.

Right.

Here we go.

Revised pages. Act Ill,
Scene Il, Mister Nobody.

Interior, Mademoiselle
Zizi's dressing room.

Close-up.

Zizi crying her
stupid little heart out.

- Charlie.
- Something shaking, baby?

How come the big director
isn't down on the set?

I sent word for you to get
down to that set an hour ago.

Better help yourself to some
of those happy pills, Charlie.

You'll need them. Where is it?

That beautiful second-unit footage
you sent a company up north to film?

It's coming, baby. It's on
its way just like I promised.

Don't soft-soap me, Charlie.

Joe from the union said
you never hired another crew.

Didn't need it,
baby. Didn't need it.

We struck oil, that's what.

I got a call from Superior.

Phil Rubin. You remember him?

Those indie dog epics he cleaned
up on a couple of years ago?

Phil calls me, see? He's got
5,000 feet of gorgeous stuff.

Knock your eyes out. He's
making a work print for us right now.

Yeah, I remember
some of that stuff.

Not bad. Let's see.

We'll cut all establishing stuff
exterior, dissolve into the bedroom.

I guess that'll work.

And knock a half
day off the schedule.

That's good thinking,
Mike. That's great.

The dough we'll save we'll
use to expand the music score,

dress up the credits.

"Directed by Michael Flint."

A hundred-piece orchestra,
tympanis, the works.

Well, okay, Charlie. Oh, look.

I hate to bring this up again,
but the script... it's pretty awful.

- That third act, Charlie...
- Say no more, baby.

I got the best writer in
television to do a rewrite for me.

As a personal favor.
Only the best, baby.

Rod Serling himself.

Serling doing a rewrite
on Mister Nobody?

Spoke to Rod this
morning at the Springs.

"Charlie, boy," says Rod,

"the third act curtain's finished,
typed, and on its way to you now."

Well, you know Rod.

It's gotta be great.
He's the greatest.

I gotta get back to the set.

Get those revised pages to me
the minute they get here, will you?

Sure thing, baby.

The Palm Springs envelope again,

Mr. Serling?

Yeah, yeah. Where were we?

Act Ill, Scene Il.

Oh, yeah.

What would I do without
you? Now, where were we?

Oh, yeah. Zizi crying
her stupid little heart out.

We cut to Mr. Nobody
entering her dressing room,

his face radiating a warm,

loving smile.

And we cut to Mr. Nobody
on the phone, saying,

"Hello, what's your latest
advisory on the hurricane"...

- Just a minute, Mr. Corby.
- Hold it.

"The Key West area. What?

You're positive it's veering
out to the ocean? Thank you."

He hangs up, smiling.
Cut. Two copies, Miriam.

Well, Mr. David Crane.

May I speak to you
alone for a minute?

Look, I'm the man who raised the money
for this TV show of yours... Mister Nobody.

Oh, Davey, I
wouldn't go that far.

You introduced me to my
silent partner, Mrs. Nelly Lawton.

Sit down, Davey.
What's on your mind?

The chattel mortgage Mister
Nobody Incorporated received

from the Woodfield
Mortgage Company.

What about it?

Well, a chattel mortgage is a mortgage
based on an individual's possessions,

in this case, Mrs. Lawton's
jewelry and art collection.

You're a lawyer.
You ought to know.

What I don't know
is simply this...

I left instructions that when
the mortgage was recorded,

I was to receive a copy.

I received no copy, so I called.

The first thing I found out was that
the mortgage has never been recorded.

You don't say?

Well, what do you know?

Amazing how sloppy some of
these big business outfits are.

Well, I'll have to see to that,
make sure everybody's protected.

Isn't that right?

Just as soon as I finish this
memo to the sponsor's agency.

Sponsor?

Look, I'm kind
of busy right now.

Are you going to be in
the steam room tonight?

Suppose we discuss it then,

and thanks for stopping by.

Anytime, you know,
you want to visit the set...

Mr. Corby, Charlie,
there's something else.

I called Woodfield Mortgage.

They told me on the phone
the mortgage is not for 68,000...

Which I understood
was the permissible loan

based on the value of
Mrs. Lawton's things...

But that the mortgage
was written up for $137,000.

Preposterous...

That's what it is...

Just impossible
that an outfit like that

could hire somebody to
make a stupid mistake like that,

I mean, reading you the
numbers from the wrong mortgage.

But suppose they weren't
the wrong numbers, Charlie.

Suppose it wasn't a mistake.

Suppose, suppose, suppose.

Davey, it's got to be a mistake.

They're not just going to
give money away like that.

Why, it's... it's
practically illegal, Davey.

But if they did

and if Mrs. Lawton finds out
they over-evaluated her property

and loaned twice
what they should,

she'll certainly wonder
where all that money went to.

Davey boy, it's got to be
nothing but a silly mistake.

Now, you know that,

so why worry?

Nelly's way out of
touch. You know that.

Nelly's in Europe.

Yeah, Miriam?

Mrs. Nelly Lawton is calling.

Uh, th-th-they want
me on the soundstage?

Urgent?

Hold it.

Look, Davey boy, don't
fret about a thing, hmm?

I'll get the loan
company on the horn.

I'll have them send you the corrected
copy of the recorded mortgage.

Okay? Okay.

See you around
the steam room, pal.

Nelly, baby.

Hi, genius, got a minute?

Where's my Nelly,
Paris or London, huh?

Mm-mm, Los Angeles.

Just before the plane took off,
genius, I got so homesick for you.

Mental telepathy, baby.

Didn't want you to go.

Well, you can tell me all
about that tonight at my place.

Well, we're shooting
tonight, baby.

Might have to wait.

But it can't wait, genius.

There's so much to go
over with you about the show,

about a new writer
I found for you.

He's... He's awfully clever.

His name is, um... let's see...

Ah, Herbert Simms.

One of your playmates, baby?

Dinner at what time, Charlie?

Make it supper.

Perfect.

Bye-bye, genius.

Now, you just forget the cares of the
day, genius, and think only of me, okay?

What's this about somebody claiming
he wrote the script for Mister Nobody?

Oh, yes, Herbert Simms?

Well, it seems that he read
somewhere in the paper

that I was your partner,

and he showed me a script.

Baby, you didn't steal
his script, now, did you?

Just one of these
spooks in this business,

got wind of the idea and wrote
a script, for nuisance money.

Well, I'm so relieved.

Oh, and there's
another thing, too.

My Attorney David Crane
came over this afternoon,

and he said something
about your promising to call

the Woodfield Mortgage
Company. Did you?

Why, no, baby.

Stampede at the ranch
and all that sort of thing.

Oh, well, never mind.

- I did.
- Good.

A Mr. Stokes,

a very determined man,

kept insisting that the
chattel mortgage on my things

was for 137,000,

not the 68,000 you
told me it was for.

That's mad.

I swindled a mortgage
company out of 68,000.

Not mad. Clever.

Amazing.

Sure, my secretary has
the power of attorney,

and I leave the details
to her, but 68,000?

Where would I hide all that?

Well, it really doesn't matter.

As long as the picture's finished
and everything comes back...

The mortgage company's
money and my pretty little baubles,

and, of course, I'm
still going to be around,

so, well, if there
is anything left,

you can just spend it on me.

You make the future
sound almost real.

Well, it would be such a
bother, having to tell everyone

that you hooked me
into financing a film script

that you stole from Herbert,
uh, what's his name, Simms?

You frighten me, baby,

but good.

It's my son, Perry. It's on
account of him I called you.

If not you, who
else could I trust?

You and your late husband
were very kind to me

when I was just a law student
living in this neighborhood.

You know I'll do
whatever I can to help you.

Now, what's wrong, Mrs. Simms?

My son Herbert started
hating being a pharmacist.

He wants to make a million

from ideas for these
different TV shows,

from moving pictures, yet, too.

Well, there's nothing
wrong with that.

Now he says somebody
stole his best idea,

his chance to make
a million dollars.

There are certain
legal steps he can take.

Oh, he's changed, Perry.

The whole world hates
him is how he thinks.

Oh, on the outside he's quiet,

but inside he keeps a...

A terrible, terrible bomb.

Herbie, look who dropped in.

Poppa's friend.

Well, have I changed
that much, Herbert?

No, Mr. Mason.

I, uh, understand you're
trying to break into TV.

I'd rather not talk about it.

When I called Mrs.
Lawton this morning,

she said she was sorry.

She saw Corby last night,

and he denied
all that I'd told her,

and there was nothing
more she could do.

Herbert, when you mailed
your Mister Nobody script

to Corby Productions,

did you receive any
acknowledgement of the submission?

Not a word.

Did you send it registered
mail, with a return receipt,

and keep a dated carbon
copy of the script itself?

No, I didn't know I
was supposed to.

To bring action, you must prove
that you actually wrote the material,

that he had access to it,

that he read it,

then used it without
payment to you.

Well, of course
he had access to it.

Does he still have it? That
would be important to us.

S-Sure he still has it.

All right.

We will attend a court
order in the morning,

impounding the files

to prevent his concealing
proof of your submission

by getting rid of the script.

I'll be in touch with you, Herb.

Yo, Corby!

Hold it!

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Sorry, baby, I gotta go.

Send me a memo, huh?

Remember the
old saying, Charlie.

You can run, but you can't hide.

Take it easy, Mike.

They gave me a runaround
on those wind machines.

They promised to send
them. Then just didn't.

I had to get Rod baby to write
the hurricane out of the script.

I can read you like
the funny papers.

For why all this megillah?

Mike, the footage is great.

All you've got is tonight's
work, and you're finished.

Finished is right.

You scrimped and cheated
all the way down the line...

On talent, sets,
music, everything.

I thought this was my
chance for a comeback,

make a new reputation.

Mike, you're sounding
like your old reputation.

Anything you don't like, your
insecurity sends you to Juice Junction...

The bottle.

Get hold on to yourself, baby.

Get those last shots in the
can tonight and go to bed happy.

All right, Charlie, I
gave you your chance,

but the way you want it,

that's how you're
going to get it.

Thanks, baby. See you later.

Charlie! Mr. Corby, wait!

Him wait?

You dreamer, you.

But there's a
Mr. Stokes in the office,

from the Woodfield
Mortgage Company,

Mortgage company, huh?

Now, if Charlie had a mother

and she had a house,

I'd really be worried.

A check?

For $10,000?

For me, Zizi?

I want no part of
the reward, madame.

Oh, but why not, monsieur?

Because you are Zizi,
and me, I'm nobody.

No, no. Oh, Mr. Nobody.

No, no.

"Mistaire" Nobody.

Uh, forget it.

Cut it!

Print it.

Wrap it up and drown it.

Come on, peasants.
It's time to celebrate.

Ha-ho! Let's go.

How was it?

Magnificent.

You mean it?

Easy on the bottle, Mike.

Where's Charlie?

Around.

He better be.

Why, Mr. Stokes.

Oh, good evening. Is Corby here?

We're expecting him soon.
May I make you a drink?

Just a very light
one. Here, I'll do it.

Well, the indispensable
Miss Waters.

Charlie didn't tell me
that the party was formal.

Is he around?

I thought that he
would come with you.

And leave with you,
judging by your ensemble.

I'm sorry, darling, but I have
other plans for him tonight.

Show me around, will you?
I don't know a soul here.

The great man himself! Yes, sir.

Charlie ol' boy!
Little baby boy!

Charlie here was going to
take a trip and miss the party!

He's going to make
a speech, that's what.

Charlie's going
to make a speech.

Yeah, speech, speech, speech...

Well, here you are...

The money, the talent,
and the manpower,

the team that's going to make
Mister Nobody an American institution,

as well-known as ham
and eggs and pie á la mode.

My job has been very simply a
pleasant one of bringing you all together,

and I want to say this from
the bottom of my heart...

In my 16 years in this business,

I have never had the
unselfish cooperation

and the just plain darn desire
to put out beyond the call of duty,

that I've had from all
of you wonderful people.

Only one more thing to say...

Thank you and bless you all.

♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ Which nobody can deny ♪

Well, Miss Miriam.

Mike, look at you.

I got a riddle, Miss Miriam.

Suppose a producer

makes an invisible picture.

You got it?

Does that make him
an invisible producer?

What are you talking
about, Mike, invisible picture?

Mister Nobody, that's what.

Never was no picture, no ma'am.

He's a crook.

Never no picture, no.

Charlie baby stole
all the money, see.

He's going to run away

and leave us all with nothing,

nothing except
an invisible picture.

Charlie?

Mr. Corby!

That's not Charlie baby.

You, stop!

Stop him! Stop him!

No, Herbert, no.

Simms...

You said my script had to be in his
possession to prove I had a claim.

I was afraid to tell you I'd already
broken into his office and stolen it.

Don't you see?

I had to put it back before
you impounded his files.

All right, Herbert.

I want the full story
of what happened,

starting with how
you got into the studio.

I got in through
the back... lot...

It's called the truck gate.

When I sneaked
into the office building,

I stopped outside the
door to Corby's room.

He was there?

I heard his voice.

His and another man's.

I didn't know who it was.

They talked so low I couldn't
make out what they were saying,

but it sounded like an
argument, a quarrel.

Then I went into the
washroom up the hall to wait.

How long were you there?

Maybe five or ten minutes,

in the dark it seemed forever,

and then I heard someone
staggering along the hall,

stumbling like they'd
had too much to drink,

and after a while,
when I did come out,

he was gone.

Then I slipped in to
put the script back.

It was dark.

And I stumbled over Corby's body

on the floor.

He was lying there,
staring up at me.

Did you try to help him?

No, I just ran. I
thought he was dead.

But he wasn't, was he?

At least he was alive enough to
seemingly name you as his murderer.

Perry?

What is it, Della?

A Miss Miriam Waters to see you.

Corby's secretary?

Show her in.

Right.

Come in, please.

Miss Waters, won't you sit down?

You wanted to speak to me?

There's something I have
to ask you, Mr. Mason.

Did that young
man, Herbert Simms,

did he take Mr. Corby's
pillbox from the office last night?

Please, tell me the truth.

Pillbox?

No, he never mentioned it to me.

Oh, good.

I was sure it wouldn't be him.

They ought to be investigating
people like that Nelly Lawton.

- A woman like that...
- Now, just a moment.

This pillbox,

the police know it's missing?

Not yet,

but they asked me to check
a list of his personal things,

and what was in the office,

and they did find a couple
of his pills in the wastebasket.

They were just
Charlie's regular pills.

He was always chewing
them like popcorn,

but then I got to thinking...

That's about all
the pills he had left

because I was supposed to get his
prescription filled the next morning,

and then I got to wondering...
Where was the pillbox?

Never mind. I get the idea.

Doctor Walker, please.

Joe, this is Perry Mason.

On your coroner's
autopsy on Charles Corby,

I suggest that an essential
part of the corpus delicti

may be a report
by a toxicologist.

Mm-hm.

Chemical examination for poison.

Nelly, you have company.

Hi, there.

Do... Do I know you?

My name is Mason.

- I'm counsel for...
- Oh, yes, Herbert Simms.

Well, how nice of you to call.

Um, Davey, why don't
you pick me up about 5:00.

Is that an invitation to leave?

By the way, I'm David
Crane, Mrs. Lawton's attorney.

Mr. Crane.

Won't you sit down, Mr. Mason?

Thank you.

- Um, what would you like?
- Nothing, thank you.

Surely you must've come all
the way out here for something.

Now, don't you tell
me. You let me guess.

Help for you client.

Another candidate for
the murder nomination.

- Right?
- Nelly...

Well, everybody knows that Charlie had
an absolute genius for making enemies.

As a matter of fact, I've just
been rather abruptly advised

that the only thing he didn't
try to make was a good TV pilot.

After all the money I poured into it, and,
boy, all he could think about was larceny.

It's no wonder so many
people had it in for him.

You take Mike
Flint, for example,

counting on Mister Nobody
for his big TV comeback.

On the night of the
party he drank so much

that he couldn't even
walk without falling down.

And then there's Miriam Waters.

You know, I've heard about
secretaries being office wives.

Well, she took it literally.

Nelly, that was a
nasty insinuation.

Well, I'm only trying to help.

And then, of course, Mr. Mason,

there is little old me,

dreaming of becoming
a big executive producer

and then having the chattels
whisked right out from under my feet...

and last but not
least, there is David.

He brought Charlie
to me for the financing.

Now, that's not funny at all.

I had nothing to do with that
deal. It was set up, and you know it.

Well, you were jealous
of Charlie there, Davey.

'Fess up.

David has been absolutely
infatuated with me

ever since I divorced
my third husband.

Haven't you, David?

- Nelly...
- Yes, you have.

This deal Mr. Crane
just spoke of,

it had to do with a
chattel mortgage.

Is that right?

Yes, with the Woodfield
Mortgage Company.

Mrs. Lawton, as your attorney,

I must advise you, you're
not obliged to answer that.

"Mrs. Lawton..."

my, aren't we getting
legal all of a sudden.

You'd think that I had something
absolutely dreadful to hide.

Haven't you, Mrs. Lawton?

Corby murdered.

When I saw it in the
paper, I was shocked.

I just couldn't believe it.

I stopped at your office to discuss
the mortgage your company gave

to Mrs. Lawton to
finance Corby's film.

Mr. Gustavson, here...

Mr. Mason indicated how
urgent the matter was, sir...

It's all right, Gustavson.

What can I do to
help, Mr. Mason?

Who approved that chattel mortgage
to the Mister Nobody Company?

Well, I okayed it in general,

but I was in San
Francisco, unfortunately,

when the money was paid out.

You're aware the security
was appraised at twice its value

so that when the
loan was written,

Corby received not
68, but $137,000?

Aware of it.

What do you think I was trying
to talk to Corby about yesterday?

Why do you think
I have gray hair?

Mr. Mason, I've got a
stupid appraiser in my office

who is going to be fried in oil

as soon as I can get my
coat on and get down there...

I'm afraid we haven't
been able to locate

Mr. Bender yet, sir.

Oh, you haven't.

That's the same song and
dance you gave me last night.

My top appraiser
makes a fantastic error

and then just disappears.

Unless you find Al in the
next hour, Gustavson...

Wait a moment.

Al?

Oh, yes, sir.
That's his name, sir,

Al Bender.

There was an item
on the police list,

something from
Corby's wastebasket,

a scribbled note.

It said something like,
"On my way. Thanks."

It was signed "Al."

That does it.

Corby and Bender.

Oh, my head.

Mr. Stokes, did you talk
with Corby at all yesterday?

Sure.

I was childish enough to think

that I could talk Corby into
handing back the extra 68,000

so I could straighten
things out with Mrs. Lawton.

I knew that she would agree.

But he refused.

He said he would
discuss it with me later,

in the projection room,

but he never showed up.

I began to feel sick.

I got this splitting headache,

from that one lousy drink
they gave me, I guess.

Anyway, I gave up. I
started home to Encino.

This motel is quite a
way from Encino, isn't it?

It's as far as I got.

My head ached so badly
that I had to stop for the night.

It's beginning to hammer again
now. I'm a sick man, Mr. Mason.

Do you blame me?

Corby dead,

the money missing,

Bender gone, maybe for good.

Al Bender just don't
live here no more,

and I don't keep
tabs on my roomers

unless their rent's past due.

Any idea where I
could get a lead on him?

Well, you might try Chico's
Bar over on Sixth Street.

That's, you know, on Alvarado.

Bender.

Nope, never heard of him.

Oh, you mean Al Bender.

Sure, he used to come
around here all the time.

Not anymore, though.

He blew town.

Oh? When was that?

Hm, couple days ago.

He owed his ex a
pocket full of alimony,

and he was into his
bookie for a bundle,

so he wasn't going to
walk past any dark alleys.

He said he was going to
take off like a jet-propelled bird

and keep going.

- Going where?
- Al never did say which way he was going.

With an independent
operation like Corby's,

our processing lab has been
burned enough to be careful.

I told Corby we checked around,

that we insisted he do business with
us, at least, on a strictly cash basis.

What did your checking
around reveal, may I ask?

Well, Corby's company ordered approximately
100,000 feet of raw stock film.

He used about 30,000 on
the Mister Nobody picture.

The rest of it was
shipped to Spain

to Corby International
Productions, Ltd.

Oh, there's some other
things, Mr. Mason...

A synch machine,
two hand cameras,

an old editing machine, and
various and sundry other supplies,

all shipped to Spain

but paid for out of the
Mister Nobody budget.

Corby never intended making
Mister Nobody into a finished picture.

He just bled the
money out of that setup

to finance his own
film ventures overseas.

No dice.

Al Bender disappeared
two days before the murder.

What about Corby's
missing pillbox?

No, nothing there, either.

However, I did pick up
a rumor at headquarters.

They made a fast check and then
ordered a more extensive autopsy,

a visceral for
the toxicology lab.

It seems someone over
there agrees with you

that Corby might
have been poisoned.

He was indeed, and I must remember
to plug that pipeline you've been using.

Della, Perry.

Well, Andy, what
brings you here?

Just a friendly call, Perry.

I didn't want to raise
your hopes too high.

There were traces
of poison in Corby,

but he died from
a blow in the head,

a blow delivered by your client.

The larger fragments of
the shattered whiskey bottle

exactly fitted the
cranial depression.

Death was caused
by a blow on the head

inflicted by an object
such as that whiskey bottle,

a blow so severe the
bottle itself shattered.

Thank you,
Doctor. That'll be all.

Yours, Mr. Mason.

Doctor, as part of the autopsy,

was there a detailed
chemical analysis made

to determine if poison was
present in the body of the decedent?

Yes, there was.

We found traces
of arsenic trioxide.

Is it possible, Doctor,

that the poison, and not the blow,
caused the death of the decedent,

that he was already
dead or as good as dead

at the moment the
blow was struck?

No, Mr. Mason.

There were only very minute
quantities of poison present.

Charles Corby was killed
by a blow on the head.

Where else, Lieutenant Anderson,

did you find blood matching
that of the dead man?

On the defendant.

Laboratory examination
of his clothing

also revealed the
presence of glass splinters,

glass matching that of
the broken whiskey bottle.

We know that Herbert Simms

had a shallow glass cut
on the palm of his hand.

As to the decedent himself,

in addition to his own blood,

did your laboratory examination
reveal any other blood

on the person or body
of the murdered man?

Yes sir, minute traces of
blood not that of the decedent,

but matching the blood type of
the defendant, Herbert Simms.

Although it was not
prerequisite, of course,

to approve the
mortgage to Mrs. Lawton,

she had given me a
copy of Corby's budget

for the television pilot
film that she was financing.

Mr. Stokes, was there a
provision in that budget

for a payment for
an original teleplay?

Yes, $5,000,

to be paid to a
Mr. Herbert Simms.

Your witness, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Stokes, how much did your
company actually pay out on that mortgage?

$137,000,

but that was a
matter of collusion

between Corby and one of
my appraisers, Albert Bender,

in over-evaluating
Mrs. Lawton's security.

Tell me, Mr. Stokes,

exactly how this
collusion took place?

Well, Mrs. Lawton signed a blank
loan request, note, and mortgage forms

so that Mr. Corby could
handle the matter for her,

assuming that the
maximum amount allowable,

based on the appraisal,
would be inserted later.

And what was inserted

was a figure based on
twice the correct appraisal?

Yes.

That explains why Bender
never filed the mortgage,

so that nobody would
check the amount.

Then when the picture
was completed and sold,

the full amount
would be returned,

nobody the wiser.

Mr. Stokes, I understand
that your hobby is lithography,

using woodcuts
to make your prints.

Now, in finishing a print,

have you ever
used a paper glaze?

Why, yes. I use a product
called Noymann's Fixit.

And are you aware, Mr. Stokes,

that that product is toxic,

that it contains a high
percentage of arsenic trioxide?

- What?
- No further questions.

Herbert Simms came to
me with a copy of a script

that he claimed Charlie
had used for his pilot film

but, well, he didn't pay him.

What was his
attitude about this?

Well, he was very
angry and abusive and...

Go on, Mrs. Lawton.
What did he say?

Well, he said that he wouldn't let
Charlie get away with stealing his script,

that if he wasn't
paid, he'd, uh...

He'd kill him.

Your witness.

Mrs. Lawton,

when I visited you at your home,

do you recall telling me that
Mr. Flint, the director of the pilot film,

was so drunk at the party
the night of the murder

that he fell down?

Yes, I saw him fall down twice.

Was one of those times in the
corridor just outside Mr. Corby's office?

No, that wasn't when I...

All right, he wasn't there,

but were you there, Mrs. Lawton?

Yes, I... I wanted
to see Charlie,

so I went to his office
and knocked on door,

but he didn't answer,

so, uh... I left.

I see.

Mrs. Lawton,

around your beautiful home you do a
good deal of the gardening, don't you?

- Yes, pruning, planting, spraying.
- Spraying, Mrs. Lawton?

Would that be spraying

with one of the many garden
sprays that contain arsenic trioxide?

Thank you. No further questions.

Miss Waters, did you
ever prepare a check

for Herbert Simms in
payment for a script he wrote?

No, never.

And our company books...

Regardless of what
the budget said,

our books showed
no such payment.

I see.

Let's return, now, to
the night of the murder.

Would you tell us, Miss Waters,

while you and the
guard were in that room,

what the dying man said,

as close as possible,
in his exact words.

"No, Herbie, no.

Simms, don't."

Thank you, Miss Waters.

Your witness.

Miss Waters,

you knew that Charles Corby
was buying film, equipment,

and other supplies,

charging them to
the pilot production

but actually shipping them overseas to
another producing company he owned?

Yes.

Look, Mr. Mason, I
was only his secretary,

not his conscience.

I did what I was
told to do, period.

Out of loyalty or
love, Miss Waters?

What difference does it make?

He's dead, isn't he?

Sure, I suppose he was
robbing everybody blind.

Maybe he never intended
to make Mister Nobody,

and maybe he was
trying to promote himself

into some overseas
production unit, but so what?

That's the way the business is,

and that's the way a
lot of the people in it are.

Charlie was no
better than many...

I admit that...

But he was no worse
than most, either.

Is it not a fact, Miss Waters,

that you are now and
have been for some time,

under a doctor's care?

Yes, I have some form
of nutritional anemia.

An improper utilization

of the iron in your system.

Am I mistaken in stating

that one of the medications you
take to improve this iron action

is a form of Fowler's Solution?

Yes, I think that was the name
the doctor mentioned to me.

Did he also mention

that in every 100 cubic
centimeters of Fowler's Solution

there are 1.05 grams
of arsenic trioxide?

One moment, counselor.

Mr. Burger.

Your Honor, it's
perfectly obvious

the defense counsel
is trying to suggest

that someone tried
to poison Mr. Corby

and that perhaps Mr. Corby
found out about this

so that the murderer was forced
to adopt a more direct method.

However, Your Honor,

the State has no objection
to this line of questioning.

As a matter of fact,

it serves as an introduction
for our next witness,

a Mr. Maurice Parness.

Mr. Parness, as
a State Inspector,

is it a part of your function

to visit various pharmacies

and to inspect their
records regarding,

among other things,

across-the-counter sales
of arsenic compounds?

Yes, it is.

Mr. Parness, did you
within the past week

examine the records
of the Simms Pharmacy,

and if so, what did you find?

Yes, sir, I examined
the records,

and, as your office requested,

I double-checked their
inventory vouchers.

The records show an
unexplained shortage

of a considerable
amount of arsenic trioxide.

This is going to kill
Momma, Mr. Mason.

She...

worked so hard and sacrificed
so much to give me every break.

She was set on my taking
over the store when Poppa died.

It almost broke her heart when
I said I wanted to be a writer.

And now all of this.

Suppose we worry
about you right now.

That cut on your hand,

the whiskey and glass
and blood on your clothes,

your blood on Corby...

I assume you have
an explanation for that?

Well, I-I told you, Mr. Mason,

I stumbled over
Corby in his office.

A-Actually, I fell.

There was glass
all... all around him,

and I touched him.

I guess I should've
mentioned that cut hand.

I guess you should've.

What about the arsenic
missing missing from your store?

Oh, that.

That was nothing.

I used that myself to get rid of
some rats in the back storeroom.

But the Board of
Pharmacy Inspector...

The records, your
books, Herbert.

I told you I wasn't cut
out to be a druggist.

I simply forgot to
enter it. That's all.

You think I'm going to
get into trouble over that?

Herbert, as your
mother would say,

that should be
your only trouble.

The murderer
struck Corby and left.

Corby lay there, dying,
when Herbert came in.

The last thing that
registered in Corby's mind

was Herbert touching him,

starting to move him
to see if he was dead.

So when the guard came in with
Miriam and they rolled Corby over,

Corby, then about dead,

thought it was still Herbert,

and cried out, "No,
Herbie, no, Simms, don't."

That explains the
dying declaration,

but what about the
poison business, Perry?

The poison business, Burger
has dumped right back into my lap.

He'll contend that Herbert
tried to poison Corby,

that Corby caught him at it,

they fought, Herbert
bashed in Corby's skull.

Period Corby. Period Herbert.

But the Autopsy Surgeon said
there was hardly any poison in Corby?

Oh, possibly he
took only a sip of it...

- Or...
- Or what?

Perry, we got a break,
the first break of the case.

What is it, Paul?

Well, your hunch about
the travel agency was right.

Al Bender wasn't
exactly jet propelled.

It was just an
all-tourist, non-jet flight,

but he's been
located in Mexico City.

I have one of my men on the way
there now to get a statement from him.

Mr. Crane, on your arrival
at the studio that night,

where did you go first?

Directly to Corby's
office, to see him.

I found Mrs. Lawton
in the outer room.

She said he'd slipped
away from the party,

and she was looking for him but had
gotten no response from her knock.

Go on, sir.

I suggested perhaps he'd
gone back to the soundstage,

so we went there to see.

Later on, we heard he was dead.

I think that'll be all,
Mr. Crane. Thank you.

Your witness.

Mr. Crane, is it not true

that you brought Corby
and Mrs. Lawton together,

with the result that she financed
his pilot film through a chattel loan?

Is it not also true that they paid you
a finder's fee, $5,000, to be exact?

Well, I... I didn't know
then it was a con game.

I'll give it all back.
I want no part of it.

That's very generous of you,

Mr. Crane, but...

Your Honor, may I have a moment?

Certainly, Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Bender?

Mr. Crane,

have you ever at any
time had access to,

or after business hours
gained entrance to,

the offices of the Hollywood Branch
of the Woodfield Mortgage Company?

Why, no.

I'm sure you won't
mind if we confirm that.

I ask to recall Jerome Stokes.

No, Crane couldn't gain
access to our papers,

not to my knowledge at least.

Why would he?

To make fraudulent alteration

to the appraisal on the
Lawton chattels, Mr. Stokes.

But that was Bender,

one of my appraisers,
who did that.

Mr. Stokes,

I find that Bender's ex-wife,

complaining of
nonpayment of alimony,

has recently
petitioned the court

for a Writ of Garnishment,

attaching part of his salary.

Is that so? I hadn't heard that.

Haven't you? Didn't you know
Mr. Bender was in trouble?

Of course not. There are
37 employees in my office.

All right, then, tell me this...

You do considerable traveling,

both on company
business and for pleasure.

Do you ordinarily procure your tickets
and reservations through a travel agency?

Well... yes, that's right.

Did you, two days before
Charles Corby was murdered,

write a check to that travel
agency in the amount of $85?

I may have. I have
rather a large account.

Let's see, I bought tickets
for San Francisco recently.

For $85?

No, Mr. Stokes,

for that amount you
can go much farther.

In fact, it's exactly
the price of a one-way,

non-jet, tourist
fare to Mexico City.

Well, what of it? I don't
see any reason that...

So isn't it more
than coincidence

that my investigators have just
located Al Bender in Mexico City?

All right,

so I helped out and old employee
in a tough situation with his wife,

but I had nothing to do
with Bender's appraisal.

You have that
reversed, Mr. Stokes.

Bender had nothing to
do with your appraisal.

No... No, that's a lie.

I should warn you, Mr. Stokes,

that this note handed to me just
moments ago by Mr. Paul Drake

is a copy of a statement
made this morning

by Mr. Al Bender in Mexico City.

Now, aren't you really just blaming
your own falsification of records

on a man you helped run away?

That... That is ridiculous.

It gave you such a good
opportunity to go along with Corby

in his scheme to get rich quick.

Weren't you Corby's partner?

Hadn't he convinced you of
quick returns and fat profits

if you provided the capital?

That doesn't prove anything.

I didn't...

Don't perjure yourself
further, Mr. Stokes.

Last night my investigators

located a druggist near the motel
where you spent the night after the murder.

The druggist said that a
man came into his drugstore,

suffering from what was
obviously some form of poisoning.

The druggist gave
that man an emetic.

Now, shall we now bring the
druggist into court to identify you?

No.

I mean, there's some mistake.

It was Charlie who was poisoned.

Nobody was trying to
poison Charlie Corby.

The poison he
took was accidental.

The truth is Charlie Corby
was trying to poison you.

You spent the night in that
motel, not drunk, but sick.

Now, why did Corby try
to poison you, Mr. Stokes?

Because you'd found out
he was double-crossing you?

Why was Corby trying to
poison you, Mr. Stokes?

I told him I couldn't hide
the mortgage any longer.

I had to hand back
all of the money,

at least half of it,

so that I could
rewrite the loan.

I threatened to tell everything
I knew about him to the police.

He kept stalling.

He wouldn't give me an
answer until we had a drink.

Halfway through my
drink I began to feel sick.

He poisoned me by
dropping pills in my whiskey.

He just sat there grinning,
waiting for me to die.

I switched drinks.

He took a sip...

and then just realized
what had happened.

He got furious.

I picked up the bottle.

I hit him.

Gentlemen, before
entertaining a motion

for dismissal of the charges
against the defendant,

I would like to
speak to the bailiff.

Perry, let me see that
statement of Bender's, please.

We'll probably want
to bring him up here.

You'll have to catch him first.

You mean there...

There was no statement?

You broke Stokes
down on a bluff?

Oh, Bender said something
to one of Paul's operatives...

before he slugged him and ran.

"Tell my ex-wife she
can go whistle 'Dixie'.

You can't get alimony
out of a stone."

They found the pillbox
in the back of Stokes' car.

He took it out, hid it,

hoping no one would
find out about the poison.

Here comes Momma.

Mrs. Mason, would
you mind telling her.

Hello, Perry and Miss Street.

Do you remember, Perry,
on Friday nights sometimes,

you had dinner with us

and how you liked
my chicken soup?

I made some for you.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Simms.

Thank you very much.

Mrs. Simms...

about Herbert and the drugstore.

Yes?

I contacted Rod Serling.

He really is a friend of mine.

He read some of
Herbert's writings.

I know you're disappointed
about Herbert and the drugstore...

but Mr. Serling
thinks he has promise.

He wants to see him,
help him get started.

Uh, Perry, about
this Mr. Rod Serling,

could I talk to him?

Why?

Well, if he's going to help Herbie,
maybe he could listen to me.

I tell you, after all these
years in this drugstore,

well, there's so many stories.

It's like Grand Central Station.

Let me tell you a for instance.

There was this...

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