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Arthur, please!
But you won't listen to me!
Please, please!
Arthur, please don't hurt her anymore!
I killed my brother.
Oh, he's dead. I killed him.
Have you got a body?
No, I don't seem to have a body.
Yeah, well, what if he starts guessing about other things?
So what's the question?
Does that mean he really wants to kill somebody?
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
Baby, this isn't just one!
Jeff, please!
Arthur, please don't hurt her anymore.
Please!
Arthur, stop it!
I told you to get out of here!
Last night, I shot my brother.
Who is he? Who are you?
Hi, this is Jack. We met on the flight in from San Francisco yesterday.
I told him apartment 12 was vacant, so I decided to take it.
Betsy, you're going to make someone a great mother.
Harry, I told him it would be okay, that he could talk to you.
Talk to me. What about your brother?
He's dead. I killed him.
Where did this happen?
At his house.
Where is that?
Laurelwood Road.
Was there anyone else there?
Yes, Sandra was there.
She's his...
My sister-in-law.
Police know about it?
I don't know.
I'm going to make sure.
Harry, I can't wait...
If there's a homicide,
Betsy, you have to notify the police.
What was it?
What?
The address, where it happened.
Oh, uh...
1124 Laurelwood Road.
He's been wandering around the beach all night.
Lieutenant Trance, please.
Get him on the radio. Tell him it's Harry Orwell.
Tell him to get up to 1124 Laurelwood Road.
Possible homicide.
Harry, what are we going to do?
You, go away. You stay here.
We'll change clothes, we'll go up and take a look.
Good morning.
Good morning, Lieutenant.
Lieutenant, Harry Orwell called.
I take it back.
What?
Never mind.
He reported a possible homicide.
A possible homicide.
But Orwell isn't sure. He's hedging.
The victim appears to be a little bit dead.
When did he call?
Just a few minutes ago.
And where from?
Well, he didn't say.
He didn't say.
That's pure Orwell.
A possible homicide at an undetermined location.
He left an address with the operator.
Thereby making it impossible for me to ignore him.
1124 Laurelwood Canyon.
Let's go. Let's not keep Mr. Orwell waiting.
He's a taxpayer, among other things.
If you think about it, a detective is like a doctor a little bit.
People come to you for help when you want to sleep.
The difference between a detective and a doctor is
the doctor says, stick out your tongue, he looks for a rash.
But a detective has to try not to let unjust things happen to you.
Even if you admit you killed somebody,
a detective has to go looking for extenuating circumstances.
Now, he might feel foolish, but he has to try.
I thought, what would this fellow do if I said,
stick out your tongue?
Come on.
Come on.
No, he's up there in the studio.
If you know you're going to go someplace
where there was a murder, well, that's hard.
The first sight is rough enough.
What's rougher is if you did it and now you had to see it twice.
Well, I bet you if you asked Jack why he was coming with me,
he couldn't have told you.
Wait here.
Come out here.
He was there.
Well, he didn't get up and walk away.
Maybe...
I came...
Arthur was going to hit Sandra.
There was a gun.
I killed him.
This wasn't a bad dream, was it?
I don't have that kind of dream anymore.
Jack?
What's wrong?
Who are you?
Harry Orwell.
What's happening?
Sandra, would you tell him about last night, please?
What do you want me to tell him about last night?
Tell him about Arthur.
We...
We had dinner. The three of us spent a very pleasant evening.
Sandra, would you tell Mr. Orwell that I killed Arthur, please?
Baby, you didn't kill Arthur.
Arthur is just as alive as we are.
Then where is he?
Well, I don't know.
You know your brother as well as I.
He was up all night with a bottle and then he went out.
Maybe I should be worried about him.
I mean, he's got that one-man show opening today.
Hi, Lieutenant Trench. This is Sergeant Roberts.
I'm Sandra Daws. Come in, come in.
Did Jack call you?
No, I did.
He did.
That's right.
Yeah, well...
He said his brother had a fight with his wife and he threatened...
Roberts, you better take him outside. He looks a little upset.
He said his brother had a fight with his wife.
His brother threatened his wife and then he
thought he was going to kill her, so he got a gun.
Orwell.
Well, he got a gun and he shot his brother. He killed him.
Have you got a body?
No. No, we don't seem to have a body.
Have you any idea where your husband might have gone, Mrs. Dawes?
No, but you might check the nearest bar.
I see. Well, thank you. I'm sorry to have disturbed you at such an early hour.
Oh, that's all right. I suppose I ought to be out looking for Arthur anyway.
For the record, Mrs. Dawes, when your husband gets back, have him call me.
Orwell.
I want to talk to you later about this, Orwell.
I thought you would.
You okay?
I'll drive you home. You can get some sleep.
Listen.
Why don't you tell me about your brother?
Well, you can see he was a very gifted painter.
He was mostly a bully and a drunk.
What else?
I loved him.
Listen, if Arthur is alive, I have to know.
Betsy said you were a private detective.
A hundred dollars a day on expenses.
Well, could you find him?
Well, I'll try.
After I drop you off.
They're not particularly friendly pictures, are they?
Perhaps you just don't understand them.
I don't know. The colors don't...
They're not friendly colors.
Oh, you mean like blue and green go together?
Yeah, green tree, blue sky.
Not friendly.
And Arthur's work is not, huh?
I, uh...
Well, perhaps you're right.
Those pictures don't like me.
I don't even like to turn my back on them.
For fear they'll jump me from behind or something.
And yet, there's such power in Arthur's work.
Speaking of Arthur, do you know where I can find him?
You try him at home?
Yeah.
Your friends?
Well, I know his brother.
Oh.
I've known Jack ever since he was a little boy.
I used to run him off when he'd print naughty words on my window.
Oh, if you're trying to find Arthur, perhaps Luke can help.
That Luke?
Luke is Arthur's prize and only pupil.
Luke's got a lot of raw talent.
His work just lacks maturity.
Well?
What do you think?
We can try.
Oh, this gentleman...
Harry Orwell.
He's trying to find Arthur.
What time is it?
Uh, 10.30.
Well, then it's open. Try the Malibu Cottage.
Arthur Dorsey.
Yeah, who wants to know?
Your brother.
You're not my brother.
Try your brother's keeper.
You know, what the hell business is to Jack where I am?
I haven't worried about you anything.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Well, I've got a message for him.
You want to deliver it to him?
Now look what you've gone and done.
Apologize for me.
Uh-huh.
Did you find him?
Find him? He's alive.
Well, what happened?
He took a swing at me. I ducked.
Well, that sounds like Arthur. Where is he now?
I left.
In a bar.
Well, where is it? I'll go talk to him.
You stay right here.
What are you doing?
It's Walter's jersey. I had to let it out.
Yeah, watch out for Walter.
Why? Who's Walter?
Don't ask.
Then why are you pursuing him?
Instinct.
Animal, huh?
Yeah, something like that.
You want some of this?
No.
There's been no crime committed all along.
Why would somebody go to all the trouble to make it look like there was?
That's your client's story.
Why would he make it up?
I can give you two very good reasons.
What are they?
Here.
After the false alarm, earlier this morning,
I ran your client through the computer.
I knew I could count on you.
What's that supposed to mean?
You think like a private detective.
Oh, well, there is...
Never mind.
Two attempted suicides, three years ago, six months ago.
What's your instinct tell you now?
He just got out of a mental institution day before yesterday.
All that stuff about killing his brother could have been hallucinating.
Yeah, it could have been.
Now, where are you going?
I'm going to go see a doctor.
That I can understand.
I'm going to see Jack's doctor.
His name is William Bronson. It's on the paper.
Oh, well, if you turn over a rock, I want to know what's under it.
What do you charge an hour?
Who are you?
Harry Orwell.
What does a Harry Orwell want with me?
Well, a little time and a couple of answers.
Sometimes a couple of answers takes a lot of time.
Agreed.
I'll tell you what.
I don't know if I want to spend a whole hour with you.
I'll sell you 15 minutes. That's $15.
Does that include the use of the couch?
Oh, yeah.
15 minutes worth of couch included.
Well, doctor, you see, I got this friend.
That friend, of course, being nameless.
So far.
Okay?
Well, you have this friend.
Well, he thinks he killed somebody.
He came to me and he said, I think I killed somebody.
On the other hand, the guy he thinks he killed is still alive.
Good.
Why?
Because now I don't have to decide whether to give you back your money.
You see, if the guy was dead, I would have sent you to the police.
I'd have asked for my 15 bucks back.
Okay.
So a guy says he killed somebody.
But the somebody is still alive.
So he didn't kill him after all.
Right.
Right.
So what's the question?
Does that mean he really wants to kill somebody?
Sit up, will you?
Don't fool around with me, Mr. Orwell.
You see, I take murder seriously.
Now, what are we talking about?
Are we talking about a friend or are we talking about you?
Not me.
Margaret.
Call the police.
Tell them I have a private investigator's identification card here.
The number is M83456 in the name of Harry Orwell.
No, Orwell.
Tell them that the picture matches the man in my office.
And ask them if that identification is authentic.
Yeah.
I'm trying to get an idea of what I'm dealing with.
I'm talking about Jack Dawes.
He's a patient of yours.
Get that hell out of my office.
You're sick.
You're really sick.
What do you think you are, in the movies?
You think I'm a fool or a quack?
What are you, playful?
Listen, I don't play games, Mr. Orwell.
I'm a doctor.
Goodbye.
I came back to apologize.
Jack Dawes is my client. I am worried about him.
People dream they do things, but that isn't real.
And people dream that they didn't do things, but they did, and that is real.
And every dream is a wish fulfillment.
That's textbook.
That's where you start from.
He didn't tell me it was a dream.
Well, suppose it's a waking dream.
Suppose it's a fantasy. What's the difference?
I don't follow that. What does that add up to?
That adds up to...
I can't tell you any more than I just did.
I don't know either.
The fact that he's my patient doesn't mean
that I always know what's going on in his head.
And even if I did know, I probably couldn't tell you.
It would be protected by the confidentiality
of the doctor-patient relationship.
What I told you actually happened.
Who does he think he killed? His brother?
If I put it another way, is this something I should be worried about?
Well, let me say this.
Yes.
Is it a local call?
Yeah.
Hello.
Hello.
I don't know.
What do you mean you don't know?
Well, he went out.
Where?
I don't know. He got a phone call and he went out.
I don't know.
I thought he was sleeping and I went out to the pool.
I'll use your phone again.
You still got 56 seconds.
You owe me $15.
And 20 cents.
Faster!
Faster!
What?
And then I heard Jack threatened Arthur.
What exactly did he say, Mrs. Thomas?
He said that he was going to kill him.
And you were still outside?
Uh-huh.
And then what happened?
And then, uh, I heard these shots and I came running
in and there was Jack standing there with a gun.
And then you called me?
Yeah.
All right.
Thank you, Mrs. Thomas. That'll be all for now.
What's your version of that?
I already told him.
Tell me.
Like he said, Orwell, he already gave us his statement.
Listen, he's my client. I have a right to know.
I thought he was dead.
When you got him?
And then he wasn't dead.
He, uh, he came for me and, uh, he was trying to kill me.
Just like he tried to kill Mrs. Dawes the first time?
Yes.
Roberts!
You can talk to your client downtown, Orwell.
Let's go.
You're that sure he's guilty?
No, but I've got Mrs. Dawes' statement. I've got
a smoking revolver. It's pretty hard not to be.
What if there's another way to go?
Orwell.
Hey, Orwell.
Wait a minute.
I take it you have a hypothesis.
It is a complicated picture.
And it comes with a frame.
But who'd have any reason to frame your client?
Who's left?
Only the wife.
Give me a motive.
Father's pictures are worth a lot of money.
But if he lived and continued to paint, there'd be more pictures.
More money?
Why don't we take a good look at what we really do know?
For instance, your client's story the first time
around when he told us he killed his brother?
Except somebody wanted him to think he did that.
And the husband, who's now the victim, would have to have been in on it.
Well, that's part of it. That, uh, that's what makes it complicated.
Orwell, we both know he just got out of a mental institution.
Well, if the people know that, that would make it easier to set him up, wouldn't it?
Right.
Now, uh, look, um, I'm very busy, so if you don't mind, I'll...
Well, what if I get you a motive?
For the wife?
For the wife.
Terrific!
But that's not what he needs now, Orwell.
What he needs is a good lawyer.
Have you known Jack for a long time?
Yes, I've, uh, handled the Dawes family business affairs for nearly 30 years.
I'm not used to police stations.
Oh, it's all right.
Robert and Catherine Dawes were two of my dearest
friends before they passed away 10 years ago.
Did they leave an estate?
Trust fund.
For the two sons?
No, only Jack.
Arthur doesn't get anything?
Arthur didn't get along with his father. He was thrown out of the house.
His father didn't approve of Arthur's, shall we say, bohemian way of life.
So Jack gets it all?
He receives a substantial income from the trust.
However, in these past years, his hospital and doctor bills have been extraordinary.
Oh, thank you for your time.
Not at all.
Ah, Mr. Orwell.
I... I wish there were some way I could help Jack.
You've been very helpful.
Orwell!
You can see him now.
See who?
Your client.
Oh.
Doing good.
Doing good work.
Lieutenant French said you've got five minutes.
Time me.
I will.
How are you holding up?
Well, that depends on what you mean.
How are you feeling?
Oh, I'm feeling better now.
Better?
Well, at least I know it wasn't a dream.
Arthur is really dead because I killed him.
How do you know you're not being used?
Used?
Yeah, by somebody who really wanted Arthur dead.
Oh.
Who'd want to do a thing like that?
Well, whoever faked what happened the first night you went to Arthur's.
Arthur and Sandra?
Arthur's dead.
Yeah.
I killed him.
Who called you?
Who called me?
Who called you on the telephone?
Yeah, on the telephone.
Who called you on the telephone before you went to Arthur's while you were with Betsy?
Sandra.
Sandra call you?
Oh, boy.
Ah, I guess they're going to have to send me back to that place, huh?
Lieutenant!
The men's room is out front for Orwell.
Sergeant Roberts, will you please show Mr. Orwell where out front is?
The emphasis is on the word out.
Can I talk to you a minute?
I gave you five minutes with your client.
That does not include a consultation with me.
The bird's right out of the trees.
What's that supposed to mean?
Charm.
For your information, Orwell, there are people who find me irresistible.
On the other hand, there are people like me who can't find you at all.
Why don't you file yourself in that category?
Adios.
Orwell, what do you want to talk to me about?
Just wanted to ask you where the men's room was.
Sergeant Roberts, you talk too much.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
I was just finishing my husband's funeral arrangements.
What is it that you want?
I just want to ask you a few questions.
About Arthur?
How about you and Arthur?
Couldn't you have picked a better time? This hasn't been easy for me.
Hasn't it?
What is that supposed to mean?
Well, I think you've accomplished part of what you set out to do.
Oh, what part is that?
The grieving widow part.
You think I wanted Arthur killed?
That's what I think, lady.
Why?
That was going to be my question.
Well, if you're so good at putting things together, figure that out for yourself.
Well, it couldn't be the income from the
trust because Arthur was not included in that.
Oh, you've been asking questions. Very good.
Maybe it was the whole thing, the principal and the trust.
Nearly two million dollars.
Well, as Arthur's widow, you're the heir. Half or two million.
He's nothing.
Nothing at all for me.
Goes to charity.
Now, does that shoot down your theory, Mr. Orwell?
For the time being.
Well, keep looking. Maybe you'll find another.
Now, Mrs. Dodge, I wouldn't want this shooting down thing to become habit for me.
We all have our bad habits, don't we?
I have feelings, hunches, instincts, intuitions.
They are of no concern whatsoever to a judge and jury.
Now, if I sat on a jury for this woman, I'd say guilty.
Then a lawyer would say, but she didn't do it for two million dollars.
I'd have to agree.
Okay, what else did she do it for?
Well, Mr. Orwell, you heard about Arthur.
What a horrible thing.
And Jack.
What brings you back here?
The paintings.
They sometimes have that effect on people.
That kind of magnetic savagery.
Are you in the market?
Well, that depends on the price range.
You should have picked one up when you were here yesterday.
They've more than doubled in price.
That's usually the case after an artist dies.
His work goes up in value.
Isn't that awful?
And I'll tell you something else.
I will sell every one of them.
At double the price?
I may even triple it.
And Mrs. Dodge gets the money?
Except for my commission.
Mrs. Dodge, where do you want me to put this?
Oh, in the back for now, Luke.
I don't want anyone to see it quite yet.
That is one of Arthur's last paintings.
Do you have any idea what it'll go for?
I'm going to ask 30,000 for it.
What's he doing with it?
Luke sometimes runs errands for me.
In return, I supply him with supplies.
May I take a look at it?
I don't want to buy it. I just want to look at it.
All right.
Pretty wild painting.
It's not the way I look at it, Mr. Orwell.
Well, maybe we're looking at it from different perspectives.
What's mine?
Oh, the pupil looking at the master's work, at least some of his work.
What do you mean?
This painting was finished after Arthur died.
You're crazy.
I saw it when it was unfinished.
You think that I finished it?
You're the pupil who's better qualified.
You're wrong.
I don't think so.
Well, where are you going?
I haven't had lunch yet.
Sandra, this is Luke.
Luke, what's the matter?
I just brought the painting in that Orwell guy is here.
Sandra, he knows I finished it.
Come on, Luke. He can't know anything.
He can only be guessing.
Don't get all strung out about it.
Yeah, well, what if he starts guessing about other things?
Well, we'll just have to take care of Mr. Orwell, won't we?
Thank you.
Will you want to see the body again before we release it?
No, no. No, thanks.
I'd hate to think you were bird-dogging me, Orwell.
Only if you're in season.
I just came from the Mendenhall Gallery.
And you've got something to tell me?
Yeah.
Somebody completed Arthur Dorr's painting after he died.
There's a price tag on it for $30,000.
What's that supposed to mean?
It took somebody with talent to do it.
Such as?
His friend and protege, Luke Turner.
And you think this Luke and Mrs. Dorr might have a thing going?
They match up.
Okay. I'll buy a romance.
In fact, I can give you a reason why she might have been looking over the wall.
What is it?
According to the coroner, Arthur Dorr's was approaching an advanced state of arthritis.
The past couple of months, he could hardly lift up a brush.
Much less do any, uh...
A painting.
A painting.
A painting.
Sherlock Holmes was a genius.
With a little help from the guy who wrote him, he could deduce everything.
Well, life is not as kind to detectives as A. Conan Doyle, but there's another way.
The guilty party confesses.
Now, here's Luke. He lives in a house that tells you he's artistic.
Well, who knows?
The man who lives in a telling house might be
given to other kinds of conversation about himself.
But if it's the only game in town, that's where you have to play, right?
Hello?
Anyone home?
What are you doing here?
Hmm?
What are you doing up here?
Well, I, uh...
You know, it's remarkable how much your paintings, uh...
Look like Arthur's.
Well, Arthur taught me.
I know. He did a good job. You're a good painter.
You didn't come up here to admire my painting?
No, I wanted to know why you finished that, uh...
Painting of Arthur's that I saw in the gallery.
Look, I already told you.
Yeah, I know you told me. I could get an expert to check it.
All right.
The paintings were all that Arthur left...
Mrs. Dawes.
And that one would have been worthless, unfinished.
That's right.
She asked you to finish it.
I didn't say that.
I did.
I don't even have to talk to you.
Would you prefer to talk to the police?
I think you better get out of here.
How many of Arthur's paintings did you do for him?
What do you mean?
He had arthritis.
His hands.
All right.
I did seven of his paintings.
Paintings with his signature on. Yeah, I could even copy that.
And he directed, and I painted. Same color, same tone, everything.
And nobody could tell the difference.
And his paintings sold for a lot of money.
Why, you are an undiscovered talent.
Well, Arthur discovered me, and he used it.
What did you get out of it?
What do you mean?
What was the part at the end of the rainbow...
Oh, yeah.
Sandra, Mrs. Dawes.
Get out of here.
Why don't we go to the police?
You're wasting your time. We didn't kill Arthur.
Conspiracy to commit murder carries with it almost the same penalty as murder.
Luke, are you crazy?
What did you tell him?
Nothing he didn't know already.
He says they can nail us for conspiracy to commit murder.
You put it all together.
Most of it.
Well, Luke, don't worry.
They already have the man who killed Arthur in jail.
And there's nothing that you can do about it.
You said you've known Jack Dawes for a long time, since he was a little boy.
Why, yes.
You like him? You wanna help?
If I can.
I'm gonna make a phone call. You're gonna make one right after me.
I'd like to check on flights to San Francisco for tomorrow morning.
And that'll be fine.
May I make a reservation?
Mrs. Sandra Dawes.
Trent speaking.
Orwell.
Orwell.
Orwell, you are involving me in a charade.
This is not San Diego.
We do not play cops and robbers.
No, I am not willing to be convinced.
On the other hand, you might as well go ahead and try.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Luke and Sandra.
Okay, okay, Orwell.
Just this once.
But they're predicting rain.
And if all I get out of this is wet feet and a bad code,
you'll be out of business so fast you'll think you were sliding down a greased pole.
And when you hit bottom, Orwell,
and this I guarantee,
you won't mistake it for any place else.
What do you want?
You closing shop or just taking the trip?
I don't have to hide anything from you anymore.
I'm moving up there tomorrow.
Martha's house?
That's right.
Why don't you go tonight?
Because Sandra's got a lot of things to do tonight.
This her idea?
So what?
She just won't be there in the morning.
Yeah, where's she gonna be?
San Francisco.
Flight to 11.
Six o'clock tomorrow morning.
She's probably home packing right now.
Sandra wouldn't go anywhere without telling me.
Yeah, you're probably right.
But then of course she told you about the deal she made
to sell Arthur's paintings to the collector in San Francisco.
You're lying!
That may be Arthur.
Just where did you hear that?
About Sandra selling the paintings.
From a lady.
Runs the art gallery.
Eve.
I don't believe you.
All you have to do is pick up the telephone.
Dial it.
Sandra!
Look, wait a second, I'll be right down.
What's he doing here?
I just came along to take notes.
Look, I don't want him here.
All dressed up?
Yeah, I met Eve earlier.
We talked about selling Arthur's paintings.
Why don't you tell him how it came out?
Hey, what's going on here?
Answer the question, Sandra, please.
Well, I told Eve to sell them one at a time, like we agreed.
To keep us going until you became recognized and made it on your own.
That's how he's going to be, isn't it? On his own.
What do you mean?
Well, you're not going to be hanging around, are you?
That's absurd.
Then you're not going to go to San Francisco in the morning?
No, I'm not going to go to San Francisco in the morning.
Good idea.
Hello, yes, I'd like to check on a reservation for a Mrs. Sandra Dawes.
A six o'clock flight to San Francisco tomorrow morning.
Yes, sir, we have that.
Would you say that again, please?
Yes, Mrs. Sandra Dawes is confirmed on flight
211 departing for San Francisco at 6 a.m.
Thank you.
It's confirmed?
Oh, I get it.
You made that reservation, you're trying to trick us.
Was he trying to trick me when he said you were going to
sell Arthur's paintings to some collector in San Francisco?
Oh, you don't really believe that.
Yeah, I do believe it because I asked Eve and she told me.
Okay, Eve told me that there is a collector in San Francisco
who is willing to pay almost half a million dollars.
And I was going to tell you that, but I wasn't going to tell you in front of him.
Well, then you're not going to go away.
No, no, I'm not going to go away.
She's not going away, there'd be no need to pack a bag, is there?
Well, all right, we're going to look.
Oh, you don't need to be so reasonable like that.
Come on, Sandra, let's look.
Oh, all right.
All right, all right, all right, I was going away without you.
But not to San Francisco, I'm going to Europe.
They're going to send me the check there and I still plan to go.
No, you are not.
And you can't stop me.
We're going to go to the police.
Oh, you're not going to go to the police because you are an accessory.
They'll put you in jail.
Maybe he'd be an accessory after the fact.
What do you mean?
Well, the first time Jack came here to kill his brother, there were blanks in the gun.
The next time, there were real bullets.
Well, wouldn't it depend on who put the bullets in the gun?
Maybe it was her and she didn't tell you.
Luke did. Luke knows all about guns.
He's the one that put the bullets in it.
Well, in court, would it still be his word against yours?
I'd bet on you.
So would I.
One thing puzzles me.
How'd you get Arthur to go along with it?
Because Arthur got a hold of some smart lawyer.
He thought he could break a clause in the trust.
I mean, if Jack could be put away permanently in some mental institution,
then Arthur figured he'd get all the income.
I mean, he couldn't paint anymore.
And the way he threw money around.
So you push old Jack over the brink and Arthur gets fat.
Yeah, that's it.
Second time was supposed to be the clincher.
Only Arthur didn't know there were real bullets in the gun.
Imagine a surprise.
Yeah, well, you're going to be a little surprised, too,
when you find out that there's no buyer for the paintings.
You set this whole thing up.
Luke, he can't prove a thing.
He can prove nothing.
We can still go away and be together
and sell Arthur's paintings to Luke.
It's no good.
Not anymore, Sandra.
We've got to go to the police.
Hold it, Mrs. Dorff.
Take care of him, Roberts.
No!
Orwell,
you have a way of getting involved
with some pretty bizarre people.
Ain't that the truth?
Your client's on his way out.
What was the charge reduced to?
Involuntary manslaughter.
Will he get probation?
As long as he continues to see his doctor on a regular basis.
Hi, Mr. Orwell.
The judge released him on his own recordings, Mr. Orwell.
Means I'm responsible for it.
You learn fast.
That's because I think like a cop.
It always pays to aim high.
Dorff?
You hungry?
I don't know. I hadn't thought about it.
Well, I woke up an appetite
because Betsy prepared about 25 pounds of lasagna.
And if you don't eat it all, she gets a feeling, sir.
Why'd she make so much?
She's used to cooking for Walter.
Walter?
Does he eat that much?
No, he spills that much.
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