Original subtitles

[ Fanfare plays ]

[ Music continues ]

[ Music continues ]

Man: This is a museum.

Here are gathered the things which link man with his past.

Some of these things he likes to remember,

some he would rather forget,

for here are relics of civilization and peace,

the war and savagery.

Here is an idol from the jungles of Central America.

Hundreds of years ago,

whole tribes of people worshipped at its feet.

An aztec altar, for human sacrifices,

its smooth stone still stained

with the blood of its uncounted victims.

These are blowguns.

They look harmless yet they're the principal weapons

of some of the native tribes of South America.

At short range, accurate and deadly as a rifle...

accurate, deadly... and silent.

These are human heads,

masterpieces of the headhunter's art,

shrunken and preserved with the care

a jeweler gives to the polishing of some priceless gem.

Truly, a museum houses many things both strange and weird.

Here, adventure and death walk hand in hand with mystery and...

I love a mystery.

The representative is here, Mr. Willard.

Come in, se�or Mendoza. Ah, Mr. Willard.

The accident... Most regrettable.

Yes, most regrettable.

These are the salvaged items

which were consigned to your country.

All right, Frank, let's examine the first one.

And there is no way of telling to whom they were going?

The addresses were all burned or badly scorched.

These few packages remain unclaimed and uncalled for.

I see.

What is it, Frank?

I... I think it's a head... A shrunken head.

It looks like the work

of headhunting Jivaro indians of my country,

but nothing like this has been done for years.

Granted all that, how about the direction?

What would this one be doing going back to your country?

This I do not understand.

But I know the practice has Long since been stamped out,

and all traffic in these heads

was forbidden by my country many years ago.

I believe your government has a law about it, also.

In that case, we'd better call the police.

[ Dialing ]

[ Telephone ringing ]

A what? A shrunken indian head?

Are you trying to kid me? Who is this?

This is Willard of airlines express.

Airlines express? Oh, Mr. Willard!

Aren't you interested?

Yes, of course I'm interested.

But why don't you take it over to the museum?

That's the only place I know that has such things.

But, captain, there's a law against handling shrunken heads.

We want police protection on this.

All right, I'll have it picked up right away

and check with the Cordova museum.

Well, this baby looks like an orphan.

And if it isn't yours, Mr. Halliday,

I don't know who it could belong to.

Well, I'm sure the museum's collection is intact.

Come along, captain.

I want you to check for yourself.

Well, by all that's unholy.

Hello, Quinn.

Quinn: This is Jack Packard and Doc Long, Mr. Halliday.

Very private detectives.

You haven't hired them as house men for the museum, have you?

How do you do? Hello.

No, I can't say that I have.

How are you?

We got us a kind of a date, captain.

We're waiting for a gal. In a museum?

Of course, you wouldn't be working on a case.

Uh, can't answer that. T'ain't ethical.

Besides that, we don't know yet.

Did it have anything to do with a head?

A head? Yeah.

They found this head and don't know who it belongs to.

A real, genuine human head, captain?

Yeah, shrunken and preserved.

They pulled it out of the wreckage

of a plane that crashed.

Know anything about it?

Oh, no. No, we ain't interested in no human heads,

shrunk, preserved, pickled, or otherwise.

Are we, son?

No, not that I know of.

Halliday: Here you are, captain.

Five heads is all we've ever had,

and as you can see, they are all here.

And the case is locked.

Well, what do I do with the blamed thing now?

Well, why don't you leave it here, captain, and I...

I will call in Leon Hartman to examine it more carefully.

Who's Hartman?

An expert. I might say a genius.

He mounted the heads in the case,

and he also handled all of Mr. Mitchell's taxidermy work.

He arranged the other taxidermy exhibits for the museum, too.

Say, is there any way of determining the age of this?

Its age would be difficult if not impossible to tell

because the shrinking process

also acts as a perfect preservative,

but I'm certain that's a genuine Jivaro indian head,

and they stopped doing that work many years ago.

Well, that removes it from the province of the homicide bureau.

Okay, Mr. Halliday, you hang on to it for a while.

And if you discover anything interesting,

get in touch with me.

Say, if that date of yours turns out to be

an indian with her head missing, let me know, will you?

Gentlemen.

10 minutes to closing.

10 minutes to closing.

Hey, you know, son, that... That shrinking business

would be a darn good way to get rid of your bookie. Yeah.

10 minutes to closing.

Imagine an old, tired orphan head

running around in an airplane, looking for its body.

Well, doc, it looks like we've been stood up.

Yeah. Ain't that just like a woman?

She couldn't meet us in our office. Why?

Got to meet us in a museum. Why?

I bet she ain't even pretty.

Oh, she sounded pretty.

She did? Well, pretty scared.

Say, maybe that's our client coming now.

Oh, son, this is worth waiting for.

Mrs. Mitchell? Mr. Packard?

Yes, this is my partner, Doc Long.

Oh. How do you do? Well, I'm pleased to meet you.

I'm sorry to be late, but, um... I'm being followed.

That's why I didn't want to meet you in your office.

I knew he was going to follow me,

and I thought that here we might...

so it's like killing two birds with one stone, huh?

[ Sighs ] please don't talk about killing, Mr. Long.

Well, I... I'm sorry.

This is your husband's collection, isn't it, Mrs. Mitchell?

Yes, he was, at one time, a director of the museum.

Quentin Mitchell.

I remember reading about him.

He got lost in the jungles of South America, wasn't he?

Yes. I'm afraid he's dead.

You must help me, Mr. Packard.

No matter what your fee is, I'll pay it.

Helping folks is our business.

Well, we have to know what's bothering you first.

This man that you say is following you...

There he is now. Where?

In the phone booth.

Someone you know?

Yes. Yes, his name is Rex Kennedy.

I think he's been hired to kill me.

You want us to pick him up?

Oh, no, no. There mustn't be any publicity.

That's why I haven't called in the police.

You see, he's, um...

He's a friend of my stepdaughter's.

Let's get this straight, Mrs. Mitchell.

You think your stepdaughter hired this man to kill you?

I don't know what to think, really.

I... I know they're conspiring.

Your beloved stepmother's here in the museum...

Right amongst your father's trophies, Janet.

You mean she has the nerve to meet professor Logan there?

No, she's not with the professor, sweetheart.

A couple of new faces have been added.

Look like a pair of market street canaries...

private detectives, to you.

Private detectives?

I wonder what she's up to now. I don't know.

Whatever it is,

I don't look forward to tangling with these boys.

They're smart and lucky.

Oh, Rex, darling, we have nothing to be afraid of.

You're not gonna let me down, are you?

Well, what do I get out of the deal? Oh, Rex...

What about tonight?

Pick me up in front of the house at 7:00.

We'll go to dinner, and then I want you to meet someone.

Who?

Father's closest friend... Uncle Leon.

Well, who's uncle Leon?

You know your relatives don't like me.

This one will, because I do.

Besides, he's not a real relative.

[ Chuckles ] Okay.

Look, I got to go now.

One canary's getting too close.

Goodbye.

Hey, what is this? Oh, excuse me.

It's that dadgum leg.

Sometimes it goes right out from under me.

Then buy a crutch.

Is that a nice way to talk?

Man: Everybody out, please!

We can't talk here any longer.

There's a mighty clumsy boy, that Kennedy.

He wasn't packing no pistol, son.

This is my home address. Please come this evening.

Jack, what is this merry-go-round all about?

You mind telling me?

Maybe we'll find out tonight

when we get to Mrs. Mitchell's home and put our heads together.

Mm. I wish you hadn't said that, son.

There's a bunch of boys with their heads together.

I hate to think of us ending up thataway.

Kennedy: "he prayeth well, who loveth well,

"both man and bird and beast.

"He prayeth best who loveth best,

"all things both great and small.

For the dear god who loveth us, he made and loveth all."

Uncle Leon write that?

That's from "the rime of the ancient mariner."

But it expresses uncle Leon's philosophy exactly.

He's probably back in his workshop.

Quite a circus he's got here.

Boy, am I glad he's dead.

Well, don't let uncle Leon hear you call them dead animals.

He likes to think that they're still alive

so that they can enjoy

the paradise that he's created for them.

Yeah? Your uncle sounds like he's slightly off his rocker.

[ Roaring ]

Hey, what gives?

I thought your uncle stuffed all of his little playmates.

That's just diablo.

Father sent him to uncle Leon from India.

He's been raised right here in this studio.

[ Diablo growls ]

Diablo, behave yourself.

Uncle Leon, diablo startled us.

Oh, I'm sorry, my dear.

But he really isn't dangerous,

as Long as you show no fear before him.

[ Chuckles ] I'm not scared.

I shake like this all the time.

This is Rex Kennedy. I told you about him, uncle.

Oh, yes. How do you do?

I don't think that cute, little kitten of yours likes me.

You know, I'd say hello

if he just quit looking at me like I was a walking beef steak.

[ Chuckles ] Diablo is only playing.

But I should warn you that it isn't necessarily what he sees

that would arouse him to violence.

He can sense when one is afraid of him.

Fear has a definite odor to animals.

The smell of it goads them into a fury.

[ Diablo roars ]

Oh, stop that, you rascal.

Stop it, I say.

Bring Mr. Kennedy along to the workshop, Janet.

[ Diablo growls ]

I hope he really didn't frighten you.

Why, he's so tame that, at times,

I allow him to run around loose in my jungle.

He enjoys it so.

Well, he may be tame, but I'd hate to meet him

face-to-face walking down market street.

[ Chuckles ] Rex is a city boy.

A tree and a blade of grass make him nervous.

Oh, I don't know. I was brought up in a kind of a jungle, too,

called south of the slot...

dog eat dog, kill or be killed, survival of the fittest.

Just like your animals.

No, not like animals, Mr. Kennedy.

Man is the only animal

that kills for the sheer love of killing.

You could see that for yourself out there.

All those beautiful jungle creatures,

slaughtered by man...

not for food but for sport.

Darling, Rex is only kidding.

Oh, of course. Forgive me.

And are you and Louise getting along any better?

No. I hate her and detest her.

I wish I could do something about Louise and you.

And are you still spying on her?

Yes, spying, watching, following, anything.

Before I get through with Louise and Arthur Logan,

I'll show them up for what they really are.

You're too quick to jump to conclusions.

The trouble with you, darling,

is that you see only the good in everybody.

Maybe you are the one who is too trustful, Janet.

What do you mean by that?

This child is very dear to me.

Knowing the evils in the world, I resent her trusting anyone.

Even you, sir.

Rex...

Please wait for me in the car. Okay.

If I get lost in your jungle,

send out a searching party, will you?

[ Leon chuckles ]

You don't approve, do you, darling?

Well, he's really not your kind.

But do you love him, and is he the man you want to marry?

I don't know.

He's exciting, like diablo...

tame on the surface and yet, underneath, I...

you're a great deal like your father, my dear.

You've always been ruled by your emotions.

You like playing with fire because it's dangerous.

I'll take my chances.

Where did you meet him? At a cocktail party.

I let him pick me up.

[ Clicks tongues ] Why not?

At the moment, he's useful to me.

I'm looking for something...

something about father's disappearance.

And when I find it...

Uncle Leon, the jungle doesn't exist

that father could be lost in,

unless he was betrayed by someone he loved and trusted.

Surely, you can't believe... I do believe it.

Father failed to return from South America

not because he was lost...

But because he was murdered.

[ Insects chirping ]

I think I ought to stick around for a while.

Sure you don't want me to, baby?

You better not, Rex.

Louise is suspicious enough as it is.

Okay. Perhaps you're right.

Maybe we can accomplish more

if she doesn't see us together too often.

But you call me at the hotel if you want me.

Thank you, Rex.

Good night. Good night.

[ Vehicle approaching ]

[ Engine turns over ]

Just a minute, fellas.

This meeting you is getting to be a habit.

I was wondering if we couldn't get together on this deal.

Meaning what? The old double cross.

Now, look... You're in business.

You don't have any personal interest in this case. I do.

So why don't we join forces and stop tailing each other?

I can do you some good.

Maybe you can do me some good.

You're talking like a crazy man.

Now you lay off me.

Now I'm only trying to help Janet Mitchell.

Now, I know you boys are trying to help Mrs. Mitchell,

so it's all in the family.

Maybe by working together, we can make everybody happy.

That's an angle. Why, sure it is.

You play it my way and we'll all come out on top.

Only we're not playing it your way.

What you people don't seem to understand...

we understand you, bub. That's enough.

Okay. Then it's no holds barred.

Kennedy, if you're an innocent man with a clean slate,

it seems to me you're going to a lot of trouble to cover up something.

Yeah, my advice to you, Kennedy...

just keep your advice and keep your distance.

Hmm. He knows something, son.

I don't think that Kennedy character likes us a dadgum bit.

Well, I think we're all gonna get a little better acquainted

before this job is done.

Louise: You see, Mr. Packard,

the root of this whole tragic situation

is that Janet believes I killed her father.

Packard: That's a serious charge, Mrs. Mitchell.

Well, when I married Quentin,

it made Janet unreasonably unhappy,

caused, in my opinion, by a father fixation.

There'd always been a very close association between the two.

Naturally, she resented anyone who disturbed that relationship.

Yes, but "resent" is hardly the word.

She... She actually hates me.

That was one reason

they organized the expedition at that time.

We hoped that while we were away,

she'd become reconciled to our marriage.

And it was on this expedition that your husband was lost.

Yes. He simply disappeared.

We remained and searched for almost two weeks.

Exhausted every possibility.

The local authorities did everything they could, but...

[ dog barking ]

Hey, is that all one dog?

Boy, tangling with that hound

would be just like riding a cyclone without no spurs.

I feel much safer at night with him on guard.

He makes a terrible fuss when strangers approach the house.

And in view of what's happened...

tell us what has happened, Mrs. Mitchell.

Well, nothing tangible.

I just feel I'm being watched everywhere I go.

My mail and Arthur's is tampered with. Arthur?

Professor Logan...

he was my husband's associate on the trip.

This terrific animosity of Janet's has become impossible.

Everything she does is a threat, a challenge, an accusation.

And you believe your life actually is in danger?

Yes.

[ Dog barking ]

Are you expecting someone?

Yes, I asked professor Logan to come over.

[ Doorbell rings ] Excuse me. I'll let him in.

It's all right, John, I'll get it.

Are they here? Yes.

Do they know? No.

Louise, do you think it's wise?

Wise? We need help, Arthur.

We must do something.

I just can't go on like this any longer.

All right, Louise, all right.

But my coming here is bound to cause more gossip.

Oh, but it's important

that we see the pictures we took on the trip.

I hope you know what you're doing.

This is Mr. Long and Mr. Packard.

Professor Logan.

How do you do? How are you?

Professor Logan. Good evening.

Gentlemen, I'm not in sympathy with this notion

of Mrs. Mitchell's to hire private investigators,

but I hope whatever must be done can be done quietly.

Notoriety wouldn't help Mrs. Mitchell,

and at the same time, it would be disastrous to me. In what way?

I'm a professor at the university.

Naturally, the board of trustees won't tolerate any scandal.

Oh, shucks, professor,

you don't need to worry none about that.

Me and Jack is paid to keep secrets.

Ain't we, son? Yes.

Is Janet home?

Yes, she's upstairs in her room.

We had the usual scene when she came in tonight.

Just what was the usual scene?

Oh, name-calling, threats, tears.

She knows I've engaged you. Kennedy did phone her.

Yes, I'm sure he knows.

Well, let's get on with the showing of the pictures.

Logan: These views were taken

when we were on our way back to the base.

They'll show that Mr. Mitchell was completely happy

and in excellent health.

Yeah, I heard tell a fella can get mighty darn unhealthy

down in them jungle but quick.

Packard: I don't see Mrs. Mitchell.

I was taking the picture.

It was the day after this that Quinton disappeared.

What's in that box those natives are carrying?

The five shrunken heads we brought back to the museum.

Heads?

Ain't there a law against messing around with them things?

Well, not if they're being brought in for a scientific exhibit.

Those are Jivaro indians, aren't they?

That's right.

Now look carefully, Mr. Packard.

You can see how happy Mr. And Mrs. Mitchell are together.

And that's a blowgun.

The Jivaros impregnated the tips of the darts

with a deadly poison.

Isn't it possible those indians killed Mitchell?

After all, they are headhunters.

No, the indians have abandoned that practice.

Logan: Of course, the authorities considered that possibility.

They couldn't find a trace of evidence.

Quentin Mitchell simply vanished into thin air.

The authorities were satisfied that you and Mrs. Mitchell

had nothing to do with his disappearance?

You can tell from the slides, Mr. Packard,

the happy relationship that existed between us.

The pictures don't lie.

If they don't lie,

Mr. Mitchell certainly seems at home with that thing.

He became as skillful as the natives.

He even reached the point

where he could bring down a bird in flight with a blowgun.

[ Blows ] [ Woman screams ]

Something struck the wall over there.

Don't touch it!

There's probably enough poison on that thing to kill all of us.

It's one of them darts just like them indians use.

Where'd it come from?

Stop! You, there! Stop!

You?

No!

[ Dog whimpers ]

He must have died instantly.

I don't know who's messing around with them darts

but it ain't cupid.

Hmm. One of them overgrowed bean shooters, ain't it?

At least he can't shoot

none of his little old poison doojiggers at us now.

Looks like we're up against a killer

with a rather fancy bag of tricks.

Got himself a darn good disappearing trick, in any case.

Quentin: Janet, my darling little girl,

there's something very special and wonderful in being 18.

My little girl has grown to womanhood.

I remember all of your 18 years.

You probably remember most of them

and most of the fine times we had together.

On 18th birthdays,

most fathers and daughters have Long heart-to-heart talks.

This, although one-sided, is to be ours...

a talk that will never grow old,

never disappear into the mists of yesterday.

[ Knock on door ] That's why I'm putting my talk on a record.

I want you to be able to hear my voice Long after I'm gone.

[ Record shuts off ] [ Knocking continues ]

Who is it?

Packard: Jack Packard. I'd like to talk to you.

Packard? You're one of the detectives.

Yes, you'll find me easier to talk to than the police.

Police?

May I come in?

They'll be all over this place in a few minutes.

Did Rex Kennedy drive you home tonight just before we arrived?

What if he did? Why do you ask?

Surely you don't suspect him. Could be.

What were you both talking about out in the car?

Anything you want to know about me,

you'll have to find out for yourself.

Anything about Rex...

well, he's old enough to speak for himself, Mr. Packard.

Why don't you ask him?

He'll be questioned, all right, when he's found.

About what? He couldn't have any possible reason.

When you play with that kind of fire, it sometimes gets out of hand.

I know Rex has been in trouble before,

but surely you don't think... I don't think anything yet.

I only know that the murderer

just missed killing Mrs. Mitchell.

Or perhaps he intended to get the professor first.

If I were positive they murdered my father,

I'd be glad to see them both dead.

Why do you hold them responsible?

I have love letters that Logan wrote Louise.

I'm sure they wanted my father out of the way.

May I see the letters? Certainly not.

Just as you screamed when you were downstairs,

you could easily have seen someone outside the window.

I didn't.

Not even a shadow you might have recognized?

No. That's the answer I expected.

You'll swear you don't know

who made that good, old college try tonight?

Yes, I'll swear it.

Will you believe it?

No, because you do know somebody...

one person, at least... who might do that just for you,

just to make your life happier.

Rex? Maybe.

His record's not any too good.

How many dear friends

do you have who know how to use a deadly blowgun...

[ Siren wails ]

...like the one your father was using in the picture

when you screamed?

What makes you think Rex did it?

I haven't said I think Rex did it.

He's simply a logical suspect.

But why? Why should he murder John?

I guess there's no accounting for some people in this world.

When the boys in blue arrive,

I suggest you tell them the truth.

[ Door closes ]

[ Dialing ]

Man: Macy hotel.

Connect me with Mr. Kennedy's room... Mr. Rex Kennedy.

I'm sorry. Mr. Kennedy doesn't answer.

Well, he must be there. Are you sure?

Sorry. He isn't in. Any message?

No.

No, I'll call later.

Quinn: Kennedy, where did you go last night?

Packard and Long said

they left you parked in front of the Mitchell home

just before the slides were shown.

How Long did you stay there?

I left right away.

Then I got into a card game,

and it didn't break up till early this morning.

When I heard you were paging me, I came in, didn't I?

Keep on talking, Kennedy.

I still would like to know why your shoes fit

this set of prints we found in front of the Mitchell window.

I called for Janet a couple of nights ago

and looked for her through the window.

What does that make me? A peeping Kennedy.

Why didn't you ring the doorbell?

Because they don't like me inside the house.

Say, what are these two kibitzers doing here?

I don't have to listen to them.

When they have anything to say, you listen,

and when you have anything to say, they listen.

Packard and doc work with the police.

Kennedy, those footprints were fresh.

I've already explained that.

I suppose my fingerprints are all over that blowgun, too.

I don't know one end of a blowgun from the other.

You know, that poker-session alibi doesn't mean a thing.

You had plenty of time

to get to that game after the butler was murdered.

And after you made us that interesting proposition.

What proposition?

[ Chuckles ] nothing much.

He just wanted to help us with our job, that's all.

Oh, rubbish.

Send miss Mitchell in here, will you?

Miss Mitchell, Kennedy says he left you at your door last night

shortly before the murder.

Did you see him drive away?

No, I did not.

Did you make any arrangement for him to stay around your home

after you went inside? No.

Did you see him later, through the living-room window?

No.

But he could've been there.

Yes, he... He might have been there.

Janet, you wouldn't be throwing me to the wolves, would you?

You're not in miss Mitchell's league, Kennedy.

She made a mistake playing around with you,

and I think she knows it now.

You're a gambler, a promoter, and a chiseler.

You picked on this gal for an easy touch.

You kept conning her for what you could get out of it,

but something went wrong.

No woman likes to be taken for a sucker.

Janet, this... Save that for later.

We're holding you on a vagrancy charge

until your time is accounted for last night.

Davis.

That'll be all, miss Mitchell. Thank you.

Get that out right away, will you?

And make an extra copy of it.

[ Doorbell rings ]

[ Gasps ] you!

What are you doing here?

I thought you were in... Yeah?

Haven't you ever heard of the magic word "bail"?

You know you're not welcome in this house.

Not by you, but this isn't all your house yet.

I'll leave after I've seen Janet.

Where is she? [ Door opens ]

I don't believe... Janet!

Rex, what have you done? I've got to see you.

I'm afraid... More afraid than I was before.

Of me? Well, why are you afraid of me?

I don't know. I... I just don't know.

If your father were here, he'd put a stop to this.

How dare you speak of my father.

I'll be with you in a minute. I've just got to know.

There's nothing I like better than a nice, fast double cross.

You asked me to help you.

Now you're afraid of me.

There's been a murder committed.

Now, look, I've been snooping for you,

running your errands, and everything else,

but I don't murder, not even for you.

Oh, Rex, I'm so mixed up.

[ Engine shuts off ]

Now it's this way...

I thought I was doing all right with you

up until those two private dicks waltzed in.

And suddenly they make me a murderer.

A little circumstantial evidence

and... and suddenly, I'm a killer?

Captain Quinn told me that...

okay, Quinn told you what he told me.

What did you think I was, a pantywaist?

Is that why you picked up with me?

Rex, things have changed since last night.

There's something else that...

something else?

Yes. You see, the...

[ Crying ]

Hey, what gives here? What's the matter?

I can't tell you.

You don't know.

I... I just... Just can't tell you.

Look, Janet, I'm playing on your side.

I wish I could believe you.

I'm so confused.

You're in pretty bad shape.

If...

If you didn't commit the murder, then... then it must have...

It can't be.

What is it? It just can't be.

What do you know? Tell me.

[ Sobbing ] I can't tell you!

Look, Janet, you've got to get ahold of yourself

or you'll go completely off the beam!

Oh, Rex, I don't know what to do.

I need help, and I need it badly.

Yeah, yeah, I can see that.

[ Crying ] you'll get help, Janet.

You'll get help, all right.

[ Engine turns over ]

[ Tapping ]

Karger: Sleep.

Sleep.

Just relax and float away.

Rest.

You're tired.

So weary.

You're going to rest now.

Sleep...

And rest.

And sleep...

And rest.

Relax.

Relax.

Rest.

That does it.

Wait in my office, please, until I finish.

I'm your friend, miss Mitchell.

You're here to gain release from your problems.

I'm here to help you.

Speak, miss Mitchell.

Janet: Father.

Father.

Quentin: Janet, my darling little girl.

I want you to be able to hear my voice Long after I'm gone.

Father...

Where are you?

But your father is dead, miss Mitchell.

Yes. He must be dead.

Kennedy: But I don't murder not even for you.

Packard: How many dear friends do you have

who know how to use a deadly blowgun,

like the one your father was using in the picture

when you screamed?

No.

Father couldn't have had anything to do with it.

I won't believe it.

He's dead. They killed him.

Are you sure he's dead, miss Mitchell?

Is there no uncertainty in your mind?

Achilles.

Achilles, you didn't bark.

You didn't bark.

What does it mean, miss Mitchell?

The dog didn't bark.

Achilles...

He...

Achilles is my father's dog.

Father, stop!

Stop! That's John!

Aah!

[ Whimpering ] father!

Father, you killed him.

I'll find you.

I'll help you.

All right, miss Mitchell.

All right.

There's nothing to be frightened of.

Nurse?

The lights, please.

What happened? Nothing.

Nothing, miss Mitchell.

You just slept for a while.

Don't you feel better? Yes.

Somehow, I do feel relieved.

Of course.

Now wait here a minute. I'll be right back.

[ Bell dings ]

Someone's in the outer office.

See who it is and get rid of them.

But first give the patient a sedative. Yes, doctor.

Drink this, please.

What is it?

A mild sedative for your nerves.

Drink it and you can relax without a care in the world.

When I was asleep...

Did I say anything? Did I speak at all?

You'll have to ask the doctor.

Lie down for a little,

and I'll leave you alone now while you rest.

[ Door closes ]

Karger: There's a definite father fixation.

Kennedy: You think this caused the hysteria?

Well, she thinks her father may still be alive.

She said something like, "the dog didn't bark."

That's her father's dog. Mm.

Uh, do you think she really believes

that her father's still alive?

The butler's murdered.

She thinks her father killed him.

Killed?

Janet!

Janet: Don't come near me!

Where are you going? Home! Let me go!

You're in no condition to go out alone.

Are you trying to tell me

that I'm not responsible, that I'm crazy?

What were you two talking about out there?

Nothing. Nothing important.

What were you plotting behind my back?

Miss Mitchell, I was only explaining

your condition to Mr. Kennedy.

We want to help you, if we can.

I don't believe you.

You brought me here to pry secrets from me.

Let me go! Keep away from me.

I should've known better than to trust you.

I've been warned against you often enough.

[ Gasps ]

Well, doggone, look who's here.

Hello, miss Mitchell, Kennedy.

What are you doing here?

You sound kind of flustered, bud.

We're just waiting for you.

Tailing, I think they call it.

They're detectives. I'm sorry, doctor.

They said they made an appointment with you.

Please take me home.

They're trying to keep me here.

The lady seems to want to go home, doctor.

Miss Mitchell is in a highly excitable state.

Hate and distrust are the normal reactions

of the patient to their psychiatrist

during and after the first few treatments.

Then you're a psychiatrist, doctor?

A neurologist.

But I use psychotherapy to a great extent in my work.

They put me to sleep. They tried to drug me.

My dear miss Mitchell,

you were brought to me in a state of hysteria,

bordering on shock.

Now, if let alone, such a condition

might easily result in a severe psychoneurosis.

You needed help immediately.

You used hypnosis? Yes.

Hypnotic catharsis.

It's a recognized form of treatment.

But hardly a cure.

No.

It's a kind of safety valve.

I mean, it's a release from mounting pressure,

though only a temporary measure.

I'm impressed by your knowledge.

But as this is strictly a professional matter

between my patient and myself,

I do not care to discuss it with you any further.

Miss Mitchell, I'd advise you to get some rest.

And now, if you'll excuse me, please.

Just a minute, doctor. Yes?

You didn't, by any chance, make a recording

of miss Mitchell's statements while she was asleep?

Will you leave? Or shall I call the police?

That's a good idea.

Yes, doctor, why don't you call the police?

Well, doggone, ain't that purty?

And just freshly cut.

That's a confidential recording from our files.

Give it to me! It's mine.

You have every right to demand that Dr. Karger

turn it over to you, miss Mitchell,

especially as it was taken without your consent.

It might be very unpleasant if it got into the wrong hands.

What are you trying to tell her?

This setup, the rather odd hours the doctor keeps...

Blackmail is an ugly word. Blackmail?

I'd advise you to be careful,

making slanderous insinuations like that.

Slander?

Isn't it a fact that you were disowned

by your profession in several eastern states?

Well, what of it? Karger knows his stuff.

Certainly. Otherwise, he'd never be able to attract the clientele.

How he got a license to operate here is something of a mystery.

He's wanted back east

on charges of extortion and blackmail.

The police are only waiting for

the extradition papers to arrive.

He's been crooked so darn Long,

he could use a corkscrew for a yardstick.

You're keeping mighty strange company, Mr. Kennedy.

That's why you brought me here.

You were planning to blackmail me.

I brought you here because you needed help and you needed it bad.

I knew Karger could straighten you out.

He did it for me once.

You? The tough guy?

I didn't think you had nerves.

You're working together.

This record...

Wait for me, please.

[ Diablo growls ]

Janet.

Uncle Leon, I...

have you seen father? What?

He's here in San Francisco, hiding, and I thought

surely if he'd come in secretly, he would've come to you.

Secretly hiding? I'm sure of it.

Why, if that's his state of mind,

he'd go almost anywhere, do almost anything.

He has done it.

You mean...? Yes.

Murder?

John must have recognized him. The dog, too.

The dog didn't bark. That's why I'm so sure of it.

My child, this is terrible.

I don't know. I can't be sure.

Oh, it's too horrible.

It looked like Quinton.

He's big, built the same way.

No scars, but I just don't know.

That'll be all, I guess. You can go now.

The only way to prove that's Quinton Mitchell in there

is to get positive identification.

I guess we'd better try Mitchell's daughter again.

I wouldn't advise that, the condition she's in now.

But there is one other way.

[ Vehicle approaches ]

[ Doorbell rings ]

Boy, graveyard ain't no spookier

than this here old, lonesome neighborhood.

What if Hartman ain't here, son?

Maybe you shouldn't have let that cab go.

No, we won't need it. Someone's coming.

[ Lock clicks ]

We'd like to talk to you for a moment, Mr. Hartman.

I telephoned you, remember?

Oh, s, yes. Come in, come in.

I keep the lights off here at night.

I don't want to disturb the sleep of my pets.

[ Diablo growls ]

Hey, that wasn't no stuffed owl I just heard.

It's only my pet... a beautiful leopard you saw on the way in.

But don't be alarmed, lads. The cage is locked.

And now, gentlemen, I'd be glad to help you in any way I can.

Mr. Hartman, the curator of the museum

told us you examined the shrunken head

that was found in that airplane crash

and believe it to be a genuine native head.

Are you positive? Oh, yes,

it was definitely a native head, Mr. Packard.

I realize that you're an expert in such matters,

but wouldn't it be a little difficult to tell

if it was a white man's head or a native's

after the shrinking process?

Not really.

Of course, the skin of both would be dyed with a dark stain,

which acts as a preservative,

but the hair would be different.

A native hair is Long and coarse,

much like horsehair,

but a white man's hair is...

Quinton Mitchell's hair was red, wasn't it?

Quinton Mitchell?

Heavens, man, what a horrible thought.

Yes, it is horrible,

but there's a headless body in the morgue.

Long: And that shrinking business might just be a good way

of getting rid of any old decapitated heads

you had laying around.

But Quinton Mitchell is alive. He must be.

Have you seen him?

No, but Janet thinks that perhaps...

Besides, it takes days to shrink a human head.

And I doubt if the process were known to anyone but the Jivaros.

Them and my laundry.

Them babies can shrink anything.

The man in the morgue may be Mitchell,

and he was dead for almost two weeks before the body was found.

That should be time enough to shrink his head.

[ Chuckles ]

I'm afraid you're on the wrong track, Mr. Packard.

Didn't they learn who tried to send that head out of the country?

Wasn't no way of doing that... The wrappings was so burned

that there wasn't no way to trace any name.

Come on, doc. We going somewhere,

or am I too young to know about such things?

Yeah, we're going someplace, all right.

If you had Mitchell's head on your hands, where would you hide it?

Well, not in my aunt Sophie's icebox. She wouldn't like it.

How about you, Mr. Hartman?

I have no idea.

But isn't this a matter for the police?

Why let it worry you, Mr. Packard?

Six heads when there should be five.

I think I know where we're gonna find the answer to this.

Long: Where's the lights at around here?

Packard: Keep your hands off any switches.

Packard: Well, they're all still here.

Long: Pretty little old pee-wee pinheads, ain't they?

[ Switch clicks ]

I arranged with Mr. Halliday,

the curator of the museum, to meet us here.

Why don't somebody tell me these things?

I understood we were to meet outside the museum.

The door was unlocked. I found it open, too.

Very irregular.

What could have happened to the night watchman?

Brophy!

[ Pounding on door ] [ Doorknob rattling ]

Brophy: Get me out of here!

[ Pounding continues ]

Brophy, what happened?

Why, I don't know, Mr. Halliday, I...

I heard someone outside. They were hollering for help.

So I opened the door to investigate and...

blooey... that's all I remember, and I woke up in there.

Mm, boy, I had a feeling.

You better report this to the police, Mr. Halliday.

In the meantime, we'd like to examine all the heads in the case.

I guess we arrived just in time.

You can use the phone in my office, brophy.

The first-aid kit's there, too.

And bring me the key to the case of heads.

Yes, sir.

Yes, the hair on this one is false...

glued on, like a wig.

Must be horsehair.

And the real hair underneath is red.

Long: Hmm.

I'll bet you Mr. Mitchell never did intend

to end up on display in a museum.

Packard: You still have the other one...

the head someone tried to send back to South America?

Oh, yes. Yes, it's over there in its box.

Packard: This head belongs to the museum.

It's one of the original five you had on display.

Someone took it and replaced it with that one.

But only Arthur Logan and myself have legitimate access to that case.

Where do you keep your key?

In here, in my desk.

I...

I must tell you something about professor Logan

that I withheld until now.

I... I didn't want to involve him unnecessarily,

but this places a different light on the matter.

Yes?

Mr. Mitchell wrote me and asked

to have professor Logan recalled from the expedition

shortly before he disappeared.

Well, didn't you think that Logan might have, uh...

Well, I... I don't know.

You know, whoever murdered Mitchell

put his head on display for a reason.

But you can't identify a thing like that as Mitchell.

Maybe not, but I'm convinced that is his head.

You see, years ago, the Jivaros, in sewing the lips,

used the stitching as a code,

identifying the man's native village.

Look at the marks on the cord sewn into those lips.

I'm convinced they mean something.

[ Buzzer ]

Yeah?

It's Doc Long.

Good.

That's fine.

All right, hold him there. I'll be right over.

Well, maybe this is the break we've been waiting for.

Professor Logan just walked into the stakeout

I had set over at the museum.

They caught him at the case where the heads were kept on display.

He claims he figured out just what happened to Mitchell's head

and he came there to check to make sure.

Sounds like guilty knowledge to me.

Oh, I don't know. Maybe he's telling the truth.

I think I'll stick around here for a while.

After all, you know, Logan couldn't have killed the butler.

Maybe, but he could have been working with someone else.

You can stay here and work on your clues if you want to.

I want some action.

[ Door opens, closes ]

When captain Quinn comes back, tell him to come immediately

to Leon Hartman's studio... tell him I'll be there.

Yes, sir... Leon Hartman's. That's right.

[ Door opens, closes ]

I'm afraid it's too late for jokes, Mr. Kennedy.

I'm tired.

Good night.

This is no joke.

I'm selling information about one Quinton Mitchell,

lately deceased.

Information about Quinton?

Yeah.

I figure it's worth plenty.

To whom?

To the murderer.

You're telling me you know who killed my friend?

Yeah. Don't you?

Mitchell came back to San Francisco

on the q.T. To spy on his wife...

Maybe to kill her and professor Logan.

He knew there was one

safe and friendly place where he could hide.

But what he didn't know was that his friend,

who in reality wasn't his friend,

was waiting for just such a perfect setup

to knock him off.

[ Chuckles ]

I'm afraid what you're saying, Mr. Kennedy,

sounds rather ridiculous...

Unless you have proof.

You're contemptible, Rex.

I heard every word.

You were planning to blackmail my father,

and now that you think he's dead, you're trying to blackmail uncle Leon.

Janet... what are you doing here, child?

I haven't anywhere else to turn.

They tell me father's down in the morgue.

If he is, I'm to blame.

I killed him.

There, there. You mustn't torture yourself so.

There's a fate that arranges such things, if it's true.

Janet, you don't know what you're doing.

I don't believe in that kind of fate.

If I hadn't sent him copies of those letters, why...

Oh, it's all my fault.

Janet, get out of here.

This man killed your father.

He killed your butler, too. Don't you understand?

He tried to make everyone believe that your father was still alive

so as to divert suspicion from himself,

only the butler saw and recognized... why should I believe you?

I heard you trying to blackmail him,

as you planned to blackmail me when you took me to that...

that quack psychiatrist.

Dr. Karger turned out to be a quack.

I made a mistake in trusting him.

But I was only trying to help you then, and I'm trying to help you now.

Nothing you can say will convince me

or turn me against uncle Leon.

Thank you, my dear.

And now, Mr. Kennedy, I think you'd better go.

And peddle your blackmail someplace else.

And leave you alone with this creep? Unh-unh.

If I go, you come with me, baby.

I want to talk to uncle Leon alone. Not anymore.

We'll both stay till the cops get here.

I think they might like to know why,

when Packard and Doc Long left here earlier tonight,

Hartman followed them out, got to the museum first,

and knocked out the night watchman.

You were here?

What do you think?

Uncle Leon.

Yes, my dear.

Now you know.

You couldn't have.

You loved my father.

I hated him.

He was a ruthless butcher,

murdering the innocent.

That's why I killed him.

Oh, no!

This guy's as bouncy as a buffalo.

Get out of here.

I'll hold him till you get some help.

I thought you were trying to blackmail him...

I was only bluffing him because I didn't have any proof.

Don't you see... I had to get him into a corner, make him fight back,

and tip his hand if he was the murderer.

Now, go on, get out.

Janet, don't go.

Try to understand.

Listen to me.

Get out of here.

Please. Janet, go!

[ Bell rings ]

What's that? The front door.

Good. It's unlocked, isn't it?

It was, but I bolted it when I came in.

Okay, answer it. Let them in.

Don't open that door.

Run, Janet!

[ Crashing ]

Unh!

Rex!

[ Gasps ]

Mm!

[ Door rattling ]

[ Diablo growls ]

What happened?

You fainted, my dear.

I had hoped you would remain unconscious

until I'd finished what I have to do here.

I hoped to spare you this. [ Man coughing ]

Rex.

[ Grunts, coughs ]

He's alive.

Yes, but he's got to die.

Oh, no, uncle Leon, no.

Do you think I want to do it?

Can you know what it means for a man who hates killing...

[ Diablo growls ] ...To have to kill?

But, uncle Leon, I know as much as Rex does. You can't.

You, too, Janet?

[ Diablo roars ]

Listen to diablo out there,

screaming like a wild thing.

[ Roaring continues ]

Something's wrong.

Quiet, diablo.

[ Diablo hisses ]

Mr. Packard!

[ Diablo growling ]

Where is he, diablo? [ Diablo hisses ]

Packard: You shouldn't have left me alone, Hartman.

I'm afraid I've spoiled your plans.

[ Diablo growls ]

No, Mr. Packard.

You haven't spoiled my plans.

You've merely caused them to change them.

[ Lock clicks ]

[ Cage door creaks ]

[ Diablo growls ]

Come, diablo.

Find him, boy.

[ Growling continues ]

[ Diablo hissing ]

[ Gun clicks ]

[ Hissing continues ]

Open that door, Packard!

Now you're out there alone with him, Hartman. How do you like it?

Diablo.

[ Hissing, growling continue ]

Diablo?

You're not frightened, are you, Hartman?

You know what it does to show fear before a wild animal.

You're afraid, Hartman. You're afraid.

Your fear is making him the hunter.

[ Diablo growling ]

He's a killer, Hartman.

Diablo, get back in your cage.

He never disobeyed you before, did he?

He's not your tame pet anymore.

How does it feel, Hartman, to have

something you loved and trusted turn on you?

How do you suppose Mitchell felt?

[ Diablo roars ]

He's afraid of you, diablo. Can't you sense it?

Look at him, diablo. He's sweating fear.

No, diablo. I'm no afraid.

[ Diablo hissing ] Let me in!

Let me in!

Let me in! Let me in!

[ Diablo growls ]

I can't leave him out there.

I'll be just as guilty of murder as he is.

No, no, diablo!

Get back!

No, no, diablo!

No, no!

No, diablo!

[ Diablo growling ] Aaah! Diablo!

No!

[ Diablo roars ]

Ohh. [ gunshots ]

Quinn: But how did you know it was Hartman?

The lines you found on those strings

that were sewn to the lips of that head

aren't here on this.

No, but they're both from the same source...

"the rime of the ancient mariner"...

and when that connection was established,

everything else fitted in together.

Screwy little guy.

Got himself all mixed up.

Yeah, them mixed-up little guys

can sure cause a mess of trouble sometimes.

I can understand why he wanted to send

that native head back to where it belonged,

but why did he switch heads in the first place?

Why put Mitchell's head on display in the museum?

Well, I think it was his mad idea of poetic justice.

You see, Hartman had been putting Mitchell's animals

in the museum for a good many years and hating it.

This was sort of a revenge.

I guess he wanted to have Mitchell's head

where he could see it and gloat over it.

And, as you say, he was a mixed-up little guy.

You know, I sure did have that fella Kennedy figured wrong.

Yeah, we're going over

and pay that young man an apology we owe.

See ya again, captain.

Goodbye, captain.

Here you are, professor.

Janet wants you to have them.

Now, we were way off the beam about you and Mrs. Mitchell.

Thanks, Rex. I'll take them.

I realize now I misjudged you, too, Rex.

Janet, I do hope you'll forgive me.

Darling, I was so blindly stupid.

It was all my fault.

Well, how were you to know the letters were written

before I married your father?

I'm really sorry now that they weren't dated.

It may sound silly, but when I wrote them to Louise,

I never dated them because I thought it made them timeless.

Well, that's all past now.

Let's all try and forget about it.

Come on, Arthur.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

You know, Rex... [ Door closes ]

...there's just one thing that still puzzles me

about you. Yeah?

You and Dr. Karger...

you said he straightened you out once.

Uh, yeah, he did.

Doc Karger has a streak of larceny in his soul,

but he helped me. What was the matter?

Uh, I had an inferiority complex.

Infe... You?

Yeah. That's how I got my bad reputation.

I'd go around acting like I was a tough guy

because I wanted to prove to others

that I was better than they were.

I don't think he helped you one bit.

Okay, baby.

From now on, you're the doctor.

You mean, you will do anything I say?

Uh-huh.

I'll even go to work for a living.