Original subtitles

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(gunshot)

Well, as Mother used to say,

"It's better to be safe than sorry."

Actually, what you've just seen

is not to be taken seriously.

It was all make-believe.

All play-acting.

Of course, the gun is genuine and was loaded.

But the doctor isn't a real doctor, he's an actor.

I think it's interesting

that the duel is no longer considered good form,

while cold-blooded murder is more popular than ever.

There seems to be no way to stay

the march of civilization.

Tonight's story is about murder,

and we call it, "Safety for the Witness."

Our next minute is devoted to a television commercial,

and I call that.

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I beg your pardon, Mrs. Crawpit.

This is a magnificent rifle, Mr. Jones.

-What caliber? -300 Magnum.

It comes complete with telescopic sight.

It's hardly sporting for anything smaller than rhino.

You might say, it was designed for those

who want to be sure.

Well, my husband has a little astigmatism.

As a matter of fact, on our last safari,

he was trampled by zebras.

-Oh? -Yes.

It was during the cocktail hour,

and he mistook a small herd of them

for the striped awning

that we just bought from Abercrombie's.

Well, in future, we must watch

what goes into his canteen.

Naturally, Mrs. Crawpit.

Be with you in a moment, Lieutenant.

I think this rifle will do very nicely, Mr. Jones.

You might ship it to me,

care of my daughter in California.

We shall go north from there to the Aleutians.

You know her address, don't you?

Oh, certainly, Mrs. Crawpit.

Oh!

Oh.

Thank you.

Thank you again, Mrs. Crawpit.

Thank you.

You run a nice shop, Jonesy.

That's a classy old doll.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

And you also do business

with some of the town's prize hoodlums.

Well, I suppose that's true enough.

It takes all kinds, you know.

Hmm, when is the last time you sold a gun to Dan Foley?

Mr. Foley?

Let me see.

On January 3rd of this year,

I sold a pocket model Colt to Mr. Foley.

He had a permit, of course, the registration number is--

I can see the registration number.

You also have it entered here

that you serviced the gun on May 24th.

What was the matter with it?

Well, he had complained

that the action of the gun was sluggish.

Was it?

As a matter of fact, it was.

It had rusted some.

He'd been on a picnic,

target shooting with Mr. Felix.

Tarzan Joe Felix?

Why, yes.

That gorilla.

They've always been very courteous to me, Lieutenant.

I didn't know Mr. Foley was in trouble again.

I didn't say he was in trouble.

We're just playing it safe.

We picked up a pal of Mr. Foley's

for a waterfront killing two hours ago.

We want to protect the witness.

A witness?

Oh, that's too bad.

I'm sorry to hear a thing like that.

What do you mean, "It's too bad

and you're sorry to hear it"?

You can't get a conviction without a witness, can you?

That's just the point.

You know, Lieutenant, it seems to me that,

somehow or other, the law should be changed.

What are you getting at?

Well, let me put it this way.

Some of my best friends have been witnesses.

I don't like your attitude, Jonesy.

Well, I'm sorry, Lieutenant.

Are you trying to say that we don't

protect our witnesses?

I'm not venturing to guess, Lieutenant.

If you'll forgive me,

I'm just recalling the statistics.

Well, so long, Jonesy.

Goodbye, Lieutenant.

*

(door closing)

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(guns firing)

*

Good evening, Mr. Foley.

Good evening, Mr. Felix.

I'm sorry, Jonesy.

It's just too bad it had to be you.

(guns firing)

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Jonesy?

Who did it, Jonesy?

Tell your pals,

who shot you full of holes?

Jonesy, it's been three weeks now.

This is Commissioner Cummings with me, Jonesy.

We got the D.A. and the Mayor on our backs.

Do you hear me?

The door was open, we just walked in.

That door wasn't open and you know it.

There are two of your brass-buttoned dandies

stationed outside just to see that it isn't open.

Look, ma'am--

Wait a minute, Flannelly.

Flannelly, we don't have to apologize.

We're here investigating a murder.

We don't have to worry about hospital protocol.

-Who are you? -Young lady,

I happen to be the police commissioner of this city.

I see, well, then you ought to have a lot more sense

than you're showing, Commissioner.

This man is a victim, not a criminal.

And when Dr. Thissbaum says that he may be interviewed,

we'll let you know because it's Dr. Thissbaum's orders

that we go by here.

Dr. Thissbaum said

that after three weeks we could talk with him.

It isn't three weeks yet, it's 20 days.

My suggestion to you is that you try again tomorrow.

Young lady, I'd like to remind you again

that we have a job to do.

A man was killed and we need a witness.

You had a witness.

That's what the Commissioner means.

We need a witness to tell us who killed the witness.

It's our first obligation to protect--

I understand what you're trying to say.

You want a new clay pigeon to replace the old.

Now, Miss Copeland--

You may try again, Commissioner.

The patient is resting now,

and come back with Dr. Thissbaum's permission,

if you please.

(sighing)

We're having turkey for lunch,

and I saved a big portion especially for you,

because I know you like it so.

Mr. Jones.

It was Big Dan Foley

and someone by the name of Mr. Felix

who shot you, wasn't it?

I heard you talking in your sleep this morning.

You were saying, "Good evening, Mr. Foley,"

and, "Good evening, Mr. Felix."

But it wasn't your natural voice.

I can tell you, Mr. Jones,

it doesn't pay to be polite to people like that.

Not even in your dreams.

They're killers, Mr. Jones.

I know.

I haven't told anybody, not even Dr. Thissbaum,

although I know he could be depended upon to cooperate

in every possible way.

It's my fault.

For talking in my sleep.

I didn't know anyone knew.

But if the police can't protect their own witnesses,

what are you going to do?

You're an intelligent man, Mr. Jones,

so answer me.

What in the world are you going to do?

*

I hope you enjoyed your stay with us, Mr. Jones.

You were all very kind.

It's so unusual for a patient to leave

in the middle of the night.

A lot come in that way.

It's not against regulations, is it?

Oh, no.

Dr. Thissbaum even left word that we're not to charge you

for the extra half day.

He understands the situation so well.

As all of us do, Mr. Jones.

Thank you.

Take care of yourself, Mr. Jones.

That's a nice man.

A nice little man.

I'll bet you eight to five, he doesn't live till Tuesday.

*

Jonesy?

*

Jonesy?

Jonesy?

(gunshot)

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(telephone ringing)

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(clanging)

*

Yes, sir?

I'd like a front room with a view, please.

Something on the sixth or seventh floor.

You're not the type that jumps

or anything, are you, Mac?

Oh, no, no, no, sir.

I've been here before.

Several times when I've worked late at the store.

I find it's much more pleasant with a view.

That'll be $3.50.

I'll put you in room 621.

I'm sure that'll be fine.

Thank you.

*

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Hey, what do you think is the matter with Lynch's coffee?

I don't know, different theories about this, Joe.

Some wise guy said he thins it out with needle beer.

Personally, I think he dropped his sleeve garters

in the coffee urn.

(heels clicking)

*

(click)

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(click)

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(footsteps)

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(clearing throat)

Yes, sir, what can I do for you?

I want to report two murders.

You what?

I want to report two murders.

Whose murders?

Big Dan Foley's and Tarzan Joe Felix's.

You mean you saw them murdered?

From a distance, yes.

I committed both murders myself.

Oh, I see, well, that's a very interesting thing to hear.

You killed Big Dan Foley and Tar Felix, huh?

For a minute, buster, you had me going.

There's too many dingbats like you running around

loose in this town, get out of here.

I killed them both with a high-powered rifle

from the sixth floor of the Hotel Mark Jerome.

Buster, if you keep talking like that,

you're gonna get yourself in a whole lot of trouble.

Now, what's your name?

Cyril T. Jones.

I'm a custom gunsmith at 327--

Hey, wait a minute!

You're the fellow that was shot a few weeks back.

And you wouldn't talk for the Lieutenant

or the Commissioner.

You wouldn't open your little, bitsy lips.

Yes, Sergeant, that's right,

I'm the one.

Hey, Feeney, come in here!

We got a new kind of a nut, fresh off the tree.

Come in here and get a grip on him, will you?

Give me the Lieutenant.

Yeah, that's right.

Hey, what did you say your name was?

Cyril T. Jones.

Cyril P. Jones.

T.

T.

*

And what's this supposed to be?

It's a receipt for the 300 Magnum rifle

I mailed to California.

Oh, boy.

This is going to do me a lot of good.

So far the lab hasn't even been able to determine

what kind of gun killed Felix and Foley.

All they've been able to come up with

is a few scraps of soft lead.

I--I know, sir.

(clearing throat)

May I have a drink of water?

Help yourself.

As I told you, Commissioner,

I filed down the bullets in such a way

that they were bound to disintegrate on impact.

I never heard of such a thing in all my life.

Well, it's true, sir.

Naturally, in my line of work,

I'm better equipped than the layman

to carry out such a plan.

Oh, you are a crackerjack, Mr. Jones.

I'm sorry, Lieutenant.

Flannelly must have gone out to that hospital

fourteen, fifteen times.

You never peeped a word.

I know that.

But I should have.

I can see that now.

I probably would never have had a chance

to do this thing if I had confided

in you or the Lieutenant.

Why?

Because they would have killed me.

Who would have killed you?

Mr. Foley and Mr. Felix.

They knew I had seen them kill Mr. Grimes,

so I had no choice,

except to kill them first.

We offered you police protection, didn't we?

Didn't we?

Yes, sir, you did.

Now, I'll have no more smart remarks

out of you, Mr. Jones.

May I have another drink of water?

Help yourself.

And let me tell you this, here and now,

this case you're trying to build up against yourself

was pretty thin.

A little mouse of a man comes in here

and tries to tell us that he killed

the two worst hoodlums in town with an elephant gun.

Fine, only the elephant gun is somewhere in the mail

between here and California.

Well, you're not talking to an elephant now, Mr. Jones.

You're gonna have to do a lot better than that

to convince me.

But, Commissioner, I'm confessing to these murders.

It's a simple matter of conscience.

Conscience went out of fashion.

-Commissioner... -And don't give me

any of that talk about confession.

We get guys in here at least once a week

who'll swear that they shot McKinley.

How long have you known this guy?

Oh, a long time, Commissioner.

Ten or twelve years, anyhow.

That's why I'm worried.

What are you worried about?

Well, as far as anyone knows,

Jonesy's never told a lie in his life.

He'll even give you six nickels change for a quarter

if you don't watch out.

Are you trying to tell me

that maybe he's telling the truth?

I'm afraid so, Commissioner.

Either that or he thinks he's telling the truth.

You know, a guy with as many bullet holes

in him as Jonesy could be getting too much oxygen.

It makes you flighty, some people say.

But, Lieutenant, as I said before,

it's a matter of conscience.

I'm entitled to be put under arrest.

Jonesy...

Listen, the way things are going now,

you'll only embarrass the department.

Give us one bit of proof that you shot those two guys

and I guarantee you we'll throw you in the can.

Did anybody see you do it?

No one.

As I told you, Lieutenant, I was diabolically shrewd.

Diabolically shrewd.

You see what I mean?

The guy won't ever be right.

All right.

Book him.

Lock him up for safekeeping.

For murder, Chief?

No, no.

Vagrancy, anything that's handy.

First, I got to talk with the District Attorney.

If you did knock off those two gorillas, Jonesy,

why couldn't you have kept your big mouth shut?

Come on.

*

A confession is the last thing in the world

I want from Jones.

Don't you realize what he'd be confessing to?

Well, don't you?

Yes.

Sure, sure.

He'll be confessing to a couple of murders.

Murder, you say?

Listen, murder is simple enough.

This little bunny is about to inform the whole world

that it isn't safe for any witness to walk the streets

of this city, now, that's what he's confessing to,

and he's got a chest full of holes to prove it.

Now, Tom, that isn't fair to the police department,

and you know it.

No?

Well, then let me ask you how long you were able

to keep Henry Grimes alive?

Or the six other witnesses who were murdered this year.

Now, if I take this to the grand jury,

what have I got?

To save his own hide,

a nice little man eliminates

the same gun-happy gorillas

that your department was never able to clamp in jail.

Now, that's what I've got.

Am I supposed to convince an intelligent panel

that this man is really a murderer?

He's two thirds of a hero right now.

*

Come on, Jonesy.

It's time we got underway.

Is it time for my arraignment, Lieutenant?

I'll arraignment you.

I ought to shake the custard out of your skull.

Is something wrong?

Yes, there's something wrong.

You don't belong here.

You're wasting my time, so get out.

Oh, do you mean, you're moving me to another cell?

I mean that I'm moving you to the great outdoors,

and it's too bad it's not the South Pole.

You're a free man, Jonesy.

How can I be a free man, I'm a murderer!

You'd better change your brand of snuff, Jonesy.

Now will you get going?

Lieutenant, I confessed to this crime.

I know my rights, and I won't be treated

like any ordinary citizen.

Look, you will be treated any way

that we want to treat you.

Those are the Commissioner's orders.

We don't want any arguments.

Get going.

Get out!

*

Get out!

*

*

Thus it is that Mr. Jones learns

the sad truth about murder.

Committing it is not difficult.

It's being convicted that's the trick.

Fortunately, the next city administration

was a thoroughly dishonest one,

and it granted him his request.

And now, I shall be back in a minute,

after this brief you-know-what

from you-know-whom.

My worthy opponent has taken what I consider

an unfair advantage of my poor shooting

and insisted that we go through this again.

Afterwards, I shall be back next week with another story.

Ready?

Good night.

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