Original subtitles

("Alfred Hitchcock" theme music)

(people chattering) (orchestra tunes)

- Good evening ladies and gentlemen of the ensemble.

I suppose you think I'm the proctor.

I'm not.

I am the conductor.

This is my answer to outdoor opera.

Singing opera in the out of doors

is like painting with oils underwater.

I don't claim the art suffers, but the artist does.

The orchestra may have a bit of difficulty seeing me,

but I am also less of a target for the audience,

should they decide to become demonstrative.

I understand the soprano and the tenor have

stopped fighting, so the curtain must be about to go up.

But before you see tonight's opus,

we present this little opera bouffe.

- We have heard the testimony of Dr. Payne,

the Andersons' family physician,

and we've also had a report from Sergeant Cresse,

who was summoned to the Anderson home

on the night of the tragedy.

Now, Mr. Anderson, we would like you to tell us

exactly what happened on the evening of February 4th,

prior to the death of the deceased.

We have already read the transcript of the testimony

you gave to the police, but perhaps you wouldn't mind

going over the details another time.

Will you take the chair, please, Mr. Anderson?

- Raise your right hand.

Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth,

the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

- I do.

- Be seated.

(dramatic music)

- Well, it was about eight o'clock.

That's the hour my wife and I generally dined

on the help's night off.

She was in the kitchen.

She liked the opportunity to have the kitchen to herself

once a week, and always made one of my favorite dishes.

She always refused to tell me

what we were having for dinner,

but my guess was beef stroganoff.

Valerie suggested a bottle of wine with dinner.

We debated briefly as to whether to have a Burgundy

or a claret, and finally decided on a Beaujolais.

She went to get a bottle from the cellar.

I returned to my paper.

(dramatic music)

Several moments passed, then there was thud.

(object thudding)

(dramatic music)

Valerie?

It was dark in the cellar, and she didn't answer me.

I wondered where she was.

The light in the cellar had burned out.

(dramatic music)

I suppose I was a little panicky by this time.

I couldn't imagine what had happened,

and then I saw her.

At first, I only saw her foot, and then,

(dramatic music)

as soon as I touched her face, I knew she was dead.

I rushed upstairs and called Dr. Payne.

Later he called the police.

- Thank you, Mr. Anderson.

One moment, please, the district attorney

may want to ask you a few questions.

- Mr. Anderson, why when your wife was busy

preparing dinner did you allow her to go down

into the cellar after the wine,

instead of going after it yourself?

- She always did, she knew where it was.

- Oh, I see.

Now, about the cellar light.

Sergeant Cresse has already testified that

the bulb was burned out, as you said,

but how long had it been burned out?

- I don't know, I rarely went down to the cellar.

- Why do you suppose Mrs. Anderson used matches

to light her way down, when there was a flashlight

so conveniently nearby in the hallway?

- Well, things like that, tools and whatnot,

were my department.

She never could find a pair of pliers,

an extension cord, a tube of cement.

- This book of matches marked exhibit A,

these are the matches that were found

beside your wife's body, are they not?

- I suppose she picked them up hurriedly.

- Hmm.

She was known as Val?

- To a few of her close friends.

I always called her Valerie.

- Thank you.

- That will be all, Mr. Anderson.

You may step down, thank you.

(men chattering)

Based upon the police report and the evidence heard here,

we find that the death of Valerie Anderson was accidental.

Death was due to a fracture of the cervical vertebrae

sustained when the deceased suffered a fall

in the Anderson home on February the 4th of this year.

Thank you.

- These things are always an ordeal, but it's over now.

- Well, thank you, sergeant.

I'm grateful for the courtesy

and understanding you've all shown.

- Not at all, keep them.

(dramatic music)

- Okay, Phil, on your way.

- Good morning, Pat.

- Good morning, Mr. Anderson.

- Andy!

So good to see you back.

- Thank you, Molly.

- You're sure you're not rushing things?

- Work's the best thing for me right now.

- Oh, Mr. Anderson, we hadn't expected you quite so soon!

Well, I mean-- - It's all right, Maggie.

It's best to get these awkward moments

over with as soon as possible.

- Yes, sir.

Mr. Gordon phoned three times this morning.

- Things haven't changed much in three weeks.

- And Mr. Vincent scheduled a meeting for 10.

- Right.

- Andy, good to see you!

Been meaning to call you, you know,

say how sorry I was.

- I'm glad you didn't, Charlie.

I'd rather talk business right now.

(papers rustling) (machine beeps)

- [Maggie] Yes, Mr. Anderson?

- Ms. Wright, will you get Mr. Gordon back again,

before he has to call a fourth time?

- [Maggie] I'm afraid he's already

on line two, Mr. Anderson.

- Oh.

- [Mr. Gordon] Anderson?

- Yes, Mr. Gordon?

- [Mr. Gordon] Sorry to hear of your loss.

- Well, thank you that's very kind of you.

- [Mr. Gordon] Terrible shock.

- Well, I appreciate your sympathy, Mr. Gordon.

- [Mr. Gordon] How's the new container coming?

- The new container for Kiddie Modes?

Just a moment please.

- [Mr. Gordon] I wrote you a week or so ago giving my ideas.

- Yes, I agree, the container should be opaque.

Yes, the Indian figure should be cut-outs for kiddies.

- [Mr. Gordon] If you've had time to go through them--

- I'm sorry, I'm haven't been able

to carry through on this, but--

- [Mr. Gordon] The last sketches you submitted

were no good at all.

Anderson?

- I'll make those changes right away, Mr. Gordon.

(intercom blares)

- Yes, Mr. Anderson?

- Ms. Wright, didn't you keep my calendar up to date

while I was away?

- Well, yes, I think so.

I mean, I always do.

- Well, today is Monday the 25th.

Will you please bring it up to date?

I'm due for the conference with Mr. Vincent.

(door thuds)

- You gentlemen are my top executives.

Perhaps one of you could explain to me what this is.

Andy?

- I'm sorry, Mr. Vincent, I've never seen

that particular container before.

I've been away for a few weeks.

- Then let me explain for your benefit.

This is Whisker-Off, a revolutionary new shaving preparation

contained in a prosaic and commonplace, old-fashioned

tube designed by our organization!

This is unthinkable!

- Mr. Vincent, the manufacturer did express

a desire for a tube.

- Manufacturers don't know what they want, Lessing!

That's why they come to us,

the leading industrial designers in the business.

- Yes, sir, I'm sorry, but I've had to take on several

added accounts lately with Andy gone, and--

- Whisker-Off is the new miracle shaving preparation.

You just rub it on, then whisk it off,

and whiskers are painlessly gone, completely!

Not for hours, but for a day, a full day.

Whisk, why, doesn't that immediately suggest

the most modern packaging?

Why, it's almost spelled out for you.

Andy, I'm putting you in charge of this.

Come up with an attractive container.

Give me something creative,

something worthy of Vincent Industrial Design.

You're the man to do it.

- I appreciate your confidence, sir.

- Try it on yourself.

Personal reaction, nothing like it.

It's priceless, Andy, priceless!

Gentlemen. (Mr. Vincent laughs)

Andy!

I have discovered a bright young fellow

who I think would be a credit to this organization,

and I'd appreciate it very much if you would

kind of take him under your wing and show him the ropes.

You might start him in retail display.

- I'd be happy to, Mr. Vincent.

I've got a lot of back work to catch up on--

- Oh, so much the better, baptism of fire,

that sort of thing.

See what he's made of.

Name is Granville.

- I'd be glad to keep an eye on him.

- Good.

Put him on Whisker-Off.

He might have some ideas.

- Mr. Anderson?

- Yes? - I'm Peter Granville.

I'm supposed to start working here today.

- Oh yes, Mr. Vincent spoke about you.

Glad to have you join us.

- Thank you, sir.

- Ms. Wright?

Would you take Mr. Granville up to the retail display unit,

have Marshall fill him in on basic procedure?

- I'd be glad to.

- I'll be along as soon as I get free.

- Thank you, Mr. Anderson. - Oh, Mr. Gordon phoned again.

- Oh, I'll get him.

You go along with Mr. Granville.

(phone clinks)

Mr. Gordon, please.

- [Mr. Gordon] Anderson, Anderson?

I can't hear you.

(intercom blares) - Miss Wright,

haven't you changed this calendar yet?

(intercom blares) Miss Wright?

(dramatic music)

(paper rips)

(ominous music)

- [Sergeant Cresse] Mr. Anderson?

- Sergeant Cresse.

What did you wanna see me about?

- It'd be a little more comfortable

if we had our talk inside, don't you think?

- Yes.

- Thank you.

- Take your coat?

- No, no, thank you, I'm not gonna be long.

- Drink?

- Yes, as a matter of fact, a little bourbon neat

if you don't mind, kind of take the chill off.

(bottle clinks)

Ah, thank you.

Cheers.

Mr. Anderson, to the best of your knowledge,

do you have any enemies?

- Why?

- Police department, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera,

dear sir, RE the case of Valerie Anderson's demise,

it might interest you to know that her husband

always hated her and made her life miserable.

- That's a lie.

- It might also interest you to know that Anderson had

her life insured for $50,000.

Wasn't it a remarkable coincidence that she

just happened to fall down those stairs some time afterward.

- Let me see that.

No signature, of course.

- There is a post-script, however,

PS, what about those matches?

- Well, what about those matches?

- What about the letter?

- It's a pack of lies and innuendos!

That sometimes afterwards happened to be two years later.

And we were both insured for $50,000, as I'm sure you know.

- Now, Mr. Anderson, don't get upset.

I'm not accusing you of anything, I'm merely curious

as to the identity of the letter writer, that's all.

- Well, whoever he is, he's beneath contempt.

- Of course he is, or she.

However, that post-script does bring up

a rather bothersome point, a point that really

wasn't covered at the inquest.

- Oh?

- [Sergeant Cresse] As you recall, part of the evidence

presented, your wife having tried to set a light,

and finding it not functioning,

chose not to tell you, but got a book of matches,

lit one, and started down the stairs.

- So?

- Either tripping or falling while the match was lit,

or losing her footing when the match went out,

the book of matches presumably falling with her,

since they were found by her hand on the cellar floor.

- [Andrew] So?

- Mr. Anderson, no burned out match was found.

- Well, maybe she didn't use one!

- Why would she have them if she had

no intention of using them?

- All right, so, she had them with her.

You just haven't been able to find the burned out match.

- Well, finding a matchstick is rather like finding

a needle in a haystack, isn't it?

- I would certainly think so.

- Well, the point is, Mr. Anderson, that we are trained

to find needles in haystacks, and we usually do.

- But all that traffic down there, the doctor,

you and your men, even myself, one of us might have

kicked the match aside, picked it up

on the sole of our shoe, carried it out.

- My men are very thorough, Mr. Anderson.

I'm afraid there was no burned out match.

- Are you trying to say that I put those matches there,

so that you'd think that she had them with her?

- I'm not trying to say anything of the--

- That I'd put a burned out light bulb in the cellar,

so that it would seem that she had to use them?

- You're getting off-- - That she didn't fall

down those steps, but was pushed?

- Mister-- - Are you accusing me

of murder, Sergeant Cresse?

- I never spoke of murder, you did.

(dramatic music)

- I'll let you know later, Pat.

Charlie. - Hi, Andy.

- I used Whisker-Off this morning instead of shaving.

It's a miracle, I've never seen anything like that.

I've got to come up with a sensational packaging device.

- Oh, I'm sorry I didn't come up

with the right thing to please the old man.

- Oh, it's not your fault, Charlie.

You were overloaded with me gone.

- [Maggie] Good morning Mr. Anderson, Mr. Lessing.

- Good morning. - Ms. Wright, anything?

- Yes, Mr. Gordon calling, he wants to know

why the new model for Kiddie Modes isn't in his hands yet.

- Yeah, I'll call him in a few minutes.

- [Valerie] Sweetheart, I love you so much

I can't bear not seeing you.

Andy leaves for Chicago next week,

and we can be together again.

Until then, my darling, always, your Val.

(dramatic music)

(intercom buzzes)

- Yes, sir?

- Ms. Wright, where is the envelope

that this letter came in?

- I don't know, sir, I don't recall

opening that letter at all.

I'll be glad to look on my desk if you want me to.

- Oh, nevermind, that'll be all.

(dramatic music)

- Mr. Anderson?

I'm sorry, I should have knocked.

I have a list of suggestions for the Whisker-Off container,

if you'd look at them.

- Would you mind leaving them?

I'm rather busy at the moment.

- Well, if I could explain them to you, I--

- Just give me a chance to do a couple of things,

and then I'll look at them.

- Of course, well, thank you very much, sir.

(dramatic music)

- Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you to death.

- I was a million miles away.

- Well, if you're worried about Mr. Gordon,

I've got the new sketches for Kiddie Modes, right here.

I stayed up until two o'clock last night to finish them.

- Thanks, Molly, I really appreciate that.

- Well, for you, sir, it was a pleasure.

- Molly, I can trust you.

- I think you know that.

- Have lunch with me, please?

- Well, I wonder if I should trust you.

- Please do, it's very important.

- Well, I promised Mr. Whivern I'd work

through lunch to catch up.

- Dinner then?

Will you have dinner please?

- I shouldn't sound so available, but,

I'd be delighted.

- Thanks, Molly.

(people chattering)

- I can't believe it, you don't mean what you're saying.

- Well, I do mean it.

My wife had a lover.

This letter's in her handwriting.

- Why would anybody want to send that to you now?

- Well, her boyfriend suspects that I found out about him,

murdered Valerie because I was jealous.

- Oh, Andy.

- He's trying to pin this on me, shake me up,

make me admit it.

My desk calendar, February 4th, the day she died.

- But that could have been a coincidence,

just an oversight on the part of Ms. Wright.

- That letter to the police that made

the sergeant suspect me?

- That could have been written by some crank.

Andy, you're still upset over Valerie's death,

and you're just imagining all sorts of things.

- Who'd do a thing like this to me?

It has to be somebody in the Vincent company.

Somebody in the office put that letter in my mail.

- Andy, I can't explain that letter,

but it doesn't imply all the things you're inventing.

Someone may want to hurt you, but that doesn't mean--

- Charlie Lessing!

The old man racked him up about that Whisker-Off container,

handed the job to me.

Charlie must loathe me!

- Charlie doesn't resent you,

and he hardly knew Valerie!

You're not making any sense.

- Molly, I'm not the most stable person in the world.

I had an emotional breakdown during the war, battle fatigue.

I'm vulnerable under pressure, I admit that.

But I'm not imagining this, not since this morning,

not since that letter.

Somebody's out to get me!

- Why, Andy, who?

- It's got to be somebody at the office,

Riverton, Charlie Lessing, Whivern, maybe Vincent.

They all knew Valerie at office parties,

dinner at our home.

- Andy, I think we should find some place more private.

People from the office drop in here.

- Oh, I'm embarrassing you.

All right.

We'll find a place more private,

my house.

(people chattering)

- Hello, Mr. Anderson.

- That's Granville.

- Yes, I know, I saw him, let's go.

- Vincent's hired him to spy on me.

- Andy, will you please stop imagining?

The man stopped in for a drink, now, let's go.

(dramatic music)

- Please don't leave me, Molly.

You're the only one I can talk to, the only one I can trust.

Look at this room.

That furniture.

Those lamps, pictures.

Listen to this.

(lid bumps) (switch clicks)

(upbeat music)

That was her favorite piece of music,

(record scratches) no class, no taste,

a dull, drab, cold woman.

(lid slams)

That's all she was, no taste, no refinement.

Whatever made me think she was so wonderful

that first time I met her at the cocktail party,

cheap little, I should have pushed her down those steps

a long time ago.

- Andy!

- Oh, oh.

I didn't mean that I did push her.

I swear, I didn't, Molly, I didn't.

What I meant is I should have,

I, I should have married a girl like you.

- Andy, you've had too many martinis.

- I should have met you at that cocktail party.

You're a lovely girl, kind, understanding.

- Oh Andy, I wish you had met me instead.

But this is not the time to talk about it.

You're a little drunk, you know.

You're not thinking very clearly.

- I'm thinking very clearly, first time in my life.

That cheap little, running around with some man.

- You've no proof of it.

Dear, can't you let it alone?

- You help me, Molly, lovely girl, sweet, understanding.

- I think we've both had too many martinis.

Now, come on, let's get you up to bed, huh.

We'll talk about it another day.

(gentle music)

(dramatic music)

(Molly groans) Andy!

(dramatic music) (Molly gasps)

- Oh, Molly, Molly!

Oh, I'm sorry, Molly, I'm sorry!

I thought you,

I thought you were, oh. (Andrew sighs)

(dramatic music)

- That concludes the first half of our show.

But rather than have you go out for an intermission,

television brings the intermission to you.

I shall be here at its conclusion.

Good evening, and welcome back to the show.

In case you are wondering why I took no intermission,

frankly, I'm stuck in here.

I shall attempt to wriggle out

during the second half of our story.

It will begin when the following commercial ends.

(dramatic music)

- Mr. Vincent wants you to join him for lunch,

and a special delivery just arrived.

(ominous music)

(dramatic music)

(people chattering)

- Eat something, Andy.

- I'm not hungry.

- How are you coming with the new container for Whisker-Off?

Have you tried it yet? - Yeah, I tried it.

- Well?

- It stings a little, well, not exactly stings, it smarts.

- I used it this morning, or was it yesterday morning?

- Andy, I'm worried about you.

You've been so touchy since you got back.

- I lost my wife, you know.

- Oh, yes, I know.

But it's no good to brood.

Your work's suffering too.

Look Andy, it's a terrible thing that happened to Val, but--

- Val?

- What?

- [Andrew] You called her Val.

- Well, I don't see what--

- That's how she signed that letter.

- What letter?

Look, Andy, I don't know what's going on, but--

- You could have put that letter in my mail,

the matches too.

- What on earth are you talking about?

- You could have been Valerie's lover!

- Andy, I think maybe you came back to work much too soon.

- I'm sorry, sir, I'm very sorry.

Oh, Molly, Molly, I've got to talk to you.

- Well, Andy, I'm on my way up.

- Please!

- Let's go into my office.

- Molly, I'm terribly sorry about last night,

but I wanted you to know that--

- Andy, please don't worry about it!

Please, I understand.

I've already forgotten about what happened last night.

But I haven't forgotten what you said.

- And I meant it Molly, every word of it,

I should have married a girl like you.

- Oh, Andy!

- [Man] Molly could.

(dramatic music)

- Andy!

(dramatic music)

(intercom blares) - Yes?

- Dictation, please.

(dramatic music)

(box thuds)

Come in!

- Yes, sir.

- Letter to Mr. Gordon, Kiddie Modes, you know the address.

Dear Mr. Gordon, you're absolutely right,

the sketches are no good.

I've told our illustration department to work on new ones.

We regret the delay, appreciate your patience,

sincerely, so on, got that?

- Yes, sir.

- Interoffice memo to Whivern, illustration department,

Kiddie Modes tossed our sketches back at us.

Their criticism on this occasion, as on others,

is incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial.

But we have to humor them.

Of all our pestilential clients, Kiddie Modes is the worst.

They demand 10 times as much as any other client.

But make them up some sketches

to please their childish hearts.

Shoot that down to Whivern immediately.

- Yes, sir.

(glasses tapping) (intercom buzzes)

- No calls now, please!

- I'll have the same thing, bartender.

(Charlie clicks tongue) Drinking on the job?

- Come to gloat?

- Gloat?

You mean about your kissing Molly?

That is entirely your affair, old man,

(clears throat) in a manner of speaking,

although, I would keep it under wraps

for a while if I were you.

I mean, period of mourning, that sort of thing.

- Which means?

- Nothing Andy, nothing, didn't come here to row,

but to warn.

Was closeted with dear old Vincent just before,

and frankly chum, at the moment,

your position is a little bit shaky.

- You're all converging on me, aren't you?

- You may not believe this Andy, and you probably won't,

but in my own fumbling, inept fashion,

I'm trying to help you.

- Help me, help me right out into the street,

so you can get my job! (bottle clanks)

(Charlie sighs) - Andy, come on.

I just spent a half an hour defending you to the old man.

Don't make me feel I made a mistake.

We all know what you've gone through.

Valerie died a miserable sudden death.

- Sudden death?

- Now what?

- What do you mean sudden death?

- I don't get you.

- [Andrew] You mean foul play?

- What?

- They both go together, don't they,

sudden death, foul play?

- Andy, what in the name of-- - Don't they!

Wait a minute, I just thought of something.

- What?

- No one else had easier access to this office.

- So, what does that mean?

- No one else hung around at more parties.

- Hung around?

Are you talking about Valerie?

- Yes, I'm, (intercom blares)

I said no more calls.

- [Woman] This is Mr. Vincent's office.

Mr. Vincent would like to see you before you leave.

- Oh, all right.

- Here are your letters.

- Oh, Mr. Anderson, I have some ideas

for the Whisker-Off container.

Could I talk to you-- - Not now, not now, later!

(dramatic music)

- Pretty bad, isn't it?

The bedroom's the same way, pillows,

mattress, terrible mess.

Brainy job of entry though, they managed the lock

on the front door there.

Hey, you look kind of pale.

Hey, let me get you a drink.

- How long have you been here?

- [Sergeant Cresse] Oh, just a little while.

- How do I know you didn't do this?

(laughs) - There you go.

Gilbert and Sullivan were right I'm afraid.

A policeman's lot is not a happy one.

Actually, the mailman discovered your door standing open,

so I came over and found the house in this condition,

waited 'til you got here, and what happens?

You come in, you accuse me of all this.

Here, here's your drink.

No?

What do you suppose this was done for,

a search for evidence, maybe?

- Whoever broke in wasn't searching for evidence,

because there isn't any evidence to find.

Whoever broke in was trying to destroy me.

- Well, they must have had a pretty good reason

to suspect you.

- And you?

- I? - Yes, you.

Either make a formal charge of murder against me or get out.

- Now, here you go talking about murder again.

- Do you hear me?

(dramatic music)

- There you go.

Good night.

(dramatic music)

(gentle music)

- Oh, Mr. Anderson, I hope you don't mind,

I borrowed this book.

- Good morning, mister.

- Anything?

- No.

(dramatic music)

- Whatever happened to your face?

Vincent wants to see you right away.

- That calendar, where'd it come from?

- How would I know?

Maybe it's a gift from our faithful secretary,

or Molly O'Rourke.

- Look at the date.

- Little things amuse little girls.

- You think it's a joke?

- Of course, the 31st of February,

sort of a super leap year, get it?

(intercom buzzes)

- Yes?

- [Mr. Vincent] I want you in here, now.

- Yes, sir.

He's expecting me.

Is something wrong, Mr. Vincent?

- I'm going to read you a letter, Andy, a memo, actually.

Kiddie Modes tossed these sketches back to us.

Their criticism on this occasion, as on others,

is incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,

but we'll have to humor them.

Of all our pestilential clients Kiddie Modes is the worst.

- I don't understand.

- Then allow me to enlighten you, Andy.

That memo was received this morning by Mr. Gordon,

who has quite understandably brought it to me.

- I've never been so insulted in all my life!

Of all the unethical--

- But I didn't send that memo to--

- Does it really matter, Andy?

The letter and the memo were unfortunately

put in the wrong envelopes.

I repeat, does it really matter?

The point is one of attitude, your attitude.

- I take full responsibility for that mistake, Mr. Gordon,

and I do beg your pardon.

You see, that memo was the product of an extreme

emotional tension that I've been undergoing.

I lost my wife, Mr. Gordon, this month.

You probably heard about it.

She fell down a flight of steps and broke her neck.

You must understand I haven't been myself,

and it's not just me, you see, somebody has been trying

to break me down by, you must understand!

- I'm sorry.

But it's quite out of my hands now, Mr. Anderson.

- What?

- Kiddie Modes is taking their account to another company.

- Oh, wait a second, surely if I apologize--

- It's too late for apologies, Andy.

- Oh, but wait a minute, certainly this can

all be straightened out.

Kiddie Modes has been our client for 13 years.

Certainly this error on my part isn't going to end

this long established relationship.

It was not we who ended that relationship, Mr. Anderson.

- Oh, please!

- Andy, I'm giving you a leave of absence, half pay.

Take whatever time you need to pull yourself together.

Travel, rest, do what you like.

- But I don't want a leave of absence.

- I'm not asking what you want, Andy.

- Oh, I see, 19 years of loyal service,

and now the ash can, is that it?

- Andy, I'm not firing you, on the contrary.

It is because of your good work in the past

that I'm seeing to it that you rest,

recover from this period of upset.

Why, in three or four months you'll be fine!

- Three or four months?

- Well, I feel you would need at least that much time.

- You feel, how about the way I feel?

- Andy, it is because of my consideration of your feelings

that we are having this conversation.

- No, no.

Work is what I need.

I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Vincent, I made a mistake,

I've made lots of mistakes.

I accused you of being Valerie's lover.

That's ridiculous, of course.

But I must go on working, I have a job to do.

I can't leave everything in Lessing's hands!

- He's perfectly capable.

- Oh, yes, he's capable, he's capable of having me

thrown right out of the agency!

- Are you blaming Charlie now for what's happened?

- Don't you understand it was Charlie,

my good friend, Charlie, who's been trying to drive me

out of my mind?

He's the one who's been changing the calendar,

sending me letters, trying to intimidate me!

- Oh, Andy, for--

- Mr. Vincent, Charlie Lessing was my wife's lover!

Oh, I've had enough of this.

I don't need your job.

I don't need your miserable half pay leave of absence.

I don't need you and I'll find out

who's responsible for these things!

- Andy, you aren't well.

You don't even look well.

What's the matter with your face?

- Oh, that's a little joke on you, Mr. Vincent.

Go ahead, use Whisker-Off, give up shaving.

Your face will be so tender you won't be able to touch it!

- What?

- No matter what kind of a container you stuff it in!

(dramatic music)

(upbeat music)

(dramatic music)

(liquid boiling)

(dramatic music)

(switch clicks)

(dramatic music)

No, you're dead!

You're dead!

(dramatic music)

- Yes, she's dead Anderson.

But he can't murder her twice.

Now, would you like to tell us exactly how you did it?

(Anderson groans)

- What are you trying to prove?

Look what we've already done to an innocent man!

- Innocent?

You're as squeamish as the commissioner.

He asked me to resign, you know.

- Yes, I heard about it when I reported back

to headquarters this morning.

- My handling of the case wasn't approved,

unorthodox methods, he said.

- That's a polite description for breaking

into a suspect's house and scaring them half to death.

- Just when did you adopt this holier than thou attitude?

I don't seem to recall any objections from you

during the investigation.

- Investigation?

Persecution you mean, altering his calendar,

sending him forged letters, ransacking his apartment.

Oh yes, I did what I was told, I carried out your orders.

But tell me, just what have we accomplished

outside of terrifying him?

- Even the commissioner didn't deny that my methods worked.

He just didn't approve of them, that's all.

- Well, I don't believe Anderson is guilty.

- Well, I'm gonna prove you wrong.

- You think you'll get a signed confession from him?

- I know I will.

- [Doctor] You can see the patient now, gentlemen.

- Well?

- I don't wanna see him.

- Suit yourself, boy.

- You will find a change in him, sergeant.

For some reason, he has a fear of shaving.

(knocks on door)

Please, come in.

- He's writing something.

That could be important.

- Oh, is he?

Mr. Anderson.

There's somebody here to see you.

- I don't know him.

- Are you sure?

Why don't you look at him, Mr. Anderson?

- I don't need to look at him.

- You're writing something, huh?

To her?

May I see?

- Perfectly all right, Mr. Anderson, let him see it.

Mr. Anderson's wife comes to torment him

and he hopes to stop her with his writings.

- Is that what he told you?

- She came last night.

She knew the date of course.

- Date?

- The 31st of February.

(ominous music)

She always comes then.

Back, she's back!

(dramatic music)

No, go away!

It's not the 31st of February!

(Andrew screams)

(dramatic music)

(Andrew screams)

- Well?

- He's mad.

- Congratulations.

- What does that mean?

You know his background as well as I do.

You know he's been heading for the edge for years.

- And all it took to finish him

was just a little push, wasn't it, Cresse?

- Look, he put a burnt out bulb in the cellar,

then he pushed his wife down the stairs,

and he broke her neck.

Now, what more do you require boy, a blueprint?

- No!

What the district attorney requires, evidence!

- The only way that matchbook could have got by the body

was if Anderson put it there himself after he killed her.

- That isn't evidence.

- Well, he's guilty. - Huh.

- You want a match? - Yeah.

- Thought I had one.

- There's a book of them by your feet.

- Must have a hole in my pocket.

As a matter of fact, I do.

- A hole in your pocket?

- Yes, a hole in my pocket, so?

- What if Anderson had a hole in his pocket

the night his wife died?

What if he had a book of matches in that pocket,

and they fell out onto the cellar floor?

(dramatic music)

Must make you very happy.

You realize what you've done sergeant.

(dramatic music)

(baton taps)

- Several stagehands are attempting to pull me out of here.

If they succeed by next week,

I shall bring you another story.

Scenes from our next production will be shown

immediately after this commercial.

(dramatic music)

(bright music)