All language subtitles for Murder by Invitation -1941- CRIME THRILLER

- Subtitles -
Luís Filipe Bernardes

Hello, boss, hiya, Nora.

- Hi, Eddie.
- Afraid you was gonna be late.

How are you betting on this legal battle,
think they'll put the old lady away?

I'll quote the odds as soon as I look
over layout. And ditch that here.

- Hi, Mr. Denham.
- Oh, good morning, Mr. White.

Hey, boss, how about me grabbing a couple
of shots before things get started?

Sure, go ahead.

Who is he?

That's the famous columnist,
I invited him here.

I still think you shouldn't
attend this hearing.

Suppose they make a mistake
and try you?

You know, there are two schools of thought
about the sanity of columnists.

Quiet.

Alright, Mrs. Denham, would you mind
giving me a great big...

- Not at all.
- Smile. Thank you.

Now remember, just leave
everything to me.

And don't let personal feelings
enter into your testimony.

We all know that Aunt Cassie's simply
no longer capable of managing her money.

We'll manage it much better
for her.

Besides, Aunt Cassie will be properly
cared for in an institution.

Don't you worry about a thing,
Aunt Cassie.

Why should I worry, I'm the only
sane person in a family of nitwits.

Eddie!

She don't look crazy to me.
Reminds me of my old lady.

All kindness.

I guarantee you she wouldn't
hurt a fly.

But you oughta see those wolves. You can
see dollar signs all over their faces.

They're just hoping to put
the old lady in the funny house...

...so they can spend all that
dough she's got.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got it,
brother, you got it.

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye!

The honorable and supreme court in and for
the county New Your is now in session.

Judge Moore presiding.

We will proceed with the sanity hearing
of Miss Cassandra Denham.

This action is brought by attorney
Garson Denham.

And in behalf of himself and other
relatives of said Cassandra Denham,

who allege that the defendant
is incompetent...

...and physically and mentally unfit to
administer her real and personal property.

And pray therefore that she be
committed to a suitable institution...

...provided by the state for those
judged mentally incompetent.

Mentally incompetent, ha!

You will proceed, Counselor Denham.

Thank you, Your Honor.

With your permission, I'll call the defendant
in this action, Miss Cassandra Denham.

Place your right hand on the Bible.

Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the
whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Why not?
The truth never hurt anybody.

But where is your attorney?

Why should I spend money
on an attorney...

...when my only opposition is my
nitwit nephew?

Touché.

- Hey, what does that mean?
- It means score one for the old lady.

The court will be glad to appoint
an attorney to represent you...

...without charge if you desire one.

No, thank you.
I can take care of myself.

I must warn the spectators that this is
no occasion for outbursts or for laughing.

Go ahead, Counselor.

Thank you, Your Honor.

What is your name?

What is my...

Your Honor, do I have to sit here and have
my very own nephew ask me what my name is?

Yes.

Miss Cassandra Hildegarde Denham.

And what you need is a good spanking...

...like I used to give you when
you were a sniff of a boy.

The old lady's crazy like a fox.

You will confine your answers
to the questions.

And the court will tolerate
no further demonstrations.

Go ahead, Counselor.

Thank you.

How much wealth do you possess,
Miss Denham?

- Do I have to answer that question?
- Yes, yes, yes.

Three million dollars,
and I'm going to hang on to it.

Another one of those things, huh?

Yeah, what?

What you just said before,
you know... touche... touche...

Yeah, you said it double.

Yeah...

I warn you, Miss Denham, to confine
your anwers to the questions!

I...

The alienists cooperating with the court...

...will disregard irrelevant flippances
on the part of the defendant.

I trust this is understood.

Where do you keep your money
and securities, Miss Denham?

Wouldn't you like to know.

Now, this is my last warning.

One more outburst on the part
of the spectators...

...and the courtroom will be cleared.

Now you will answer the question.

I refuse to answer on the ground
that my money is my own...

...until you decide it isn't.

And in the meantime, it's none
of his business.

There's the smartest crazy woman
I ever saw.

Hmm... your objection is well put.

- You needn't answer.
- Thank you, Your Honor.

Miss Denham, would you say
that you were eccentric?

I live my own life, if that's
what you mean.

Did you or did you not recently give
$500 to a man you'd never met?

A total stranger.

Not exactly a stranger.

He was a farmer who lived
up the road a piece from me.

He was about to lose his farm and I gave
him the money so he wouldn't lose it.

Did you demand any security
for this gift?

Why should I?
The man is honest.

I thought he'd sleep better
without a mortgage...

...hanging over his head like, um...
Damocles's sword.

But you did give this man $500
with no security whatsoever.

- Yes.
- Yes.

Well, there you are, Your Honor,
you see?

It's perfectly obvious that my aunt
is dissipating her assets.

They're my assets.

I'll give you ten to one she never
sees a padded cell.

- What do you think I am, a sucker?
- Yes.

Proceed.

Miss Denham, tell me...

Is it true that you use vinegar
on your apple pie?

Why, yes.

Explain to the judge and the alienists,
if you will, please,

just why you douse vinegar
on your apple pie.

Gladly.

That fat cook of mine makes them
too sweet. She's done it for years.

She wants to put weight on me.

I give up, Your Honor.

You should have done
that long ago.

This action is dismissed for lack
of evidence.

Hearing adjourned.

Your Honor.

Yes?

I want to thank you.

And if you ever come my way
up in the mountains,

drop in and have some apple pie...
without vinegar.

Well, thanks. Maybe I'll do that.

But I like vinegar on apple pie.

If you'd stop throwing those
things around...

...and tell me what you 're looking for,
maybe I could help you find it.

O'Brien, one of these days
I'm going to clear off this desk.

You do and you'll be out of business.

What are you looking for?

I'm trying to find that Hollywood item
that Danny Dover sent about a week ago.

For your information it's down in the
composing room all set up in type.

O'Brien, I don't know what
I'd do without you.

Neither do I.

Now that you have that problem
off your mind,

do you think you'd like to
see a caller?

- Who?
- Garson Denham.

That lawyer who got his ears
pinned back last week...

...trying to put his aunt
in an asylum.

- What does he want?
- Maybe he wants to put you in one.

He seemed sort of anxious
about something.

Alright, have him come in. But you stay
in the room while I'm talking to him.

- I'm allergic to lawyers.
- Okay.

Come in, Mr. Denham.

- Good morning, Mr. Denham.
- Good morning, Mr. White.

May I, er...
May I speak to you alone, please?

I am alone.
Miss O'Brien is part of me.

- Which part?
- Quiet.

Have a chair, Mr. Denham.
Speak freely.

- Thank you.
- You, um... you look a bit worried.

I am worried, Mr. White.

This... this letter.

This letter is definite proof that my aunt
Cassandra is mentally unbalanced.

I don't get it.

This is just a simple invitation for you to
spend a week at her place in the mountains.

Yes, but she sent the same
invitation to all the Denhams.

And you notice she insists
that we all arrive Friday.

Friday promptly at midnight.

Now, why should she want us
all to arrive...

...at Greylock promptly on the
stroke of twelve?

Perhaps twelve's her favorite number.

I tell you there's something
sinister about this invitation.

You notice she says that...

any relative who fails to show up...

...will be eliminated from her will.

Yeah, I noticed that. Sort of a
command performance, isn't it?

Well, it ought to be a cozy little group,
with all you Denhams gathered around...

...the festive board with the old lady
you tried to put in the booby hatch.

I tell you, I have... I have a feeling that
something terrible is going to happen.

Oh, come, Mr. Denham, you're taking
it all too seriously.

She probably just wants to bury the hatchet
now that she's been declared sane.

Sure, it's a great sport,
burying hatchets at midnight.

Especially in people.

You may scoff. But I have
a premonition of death.

I believe she plans to kill us all.

After which she'll probably
confess and say:

"Sheriff, I did it with my
little hatchet."

Oh, stop it. Stop it, O'Brien.

Hey, it does seem funny.

Oh, poppycock!

I watched your aunt at the witness
stand and she's no killer.

She's intelligent and harmless.
And what a sense of humor.

It may strike her as humorous
to murder us all in our beds.

Mr. White, I'm going to leave
this letter with you.

Just in case anything does
happen to me.

This fantastic idea of having
us arrive at midnight.

It's the hand at work
of a madwoman, you'll see.

Okay, Mr. Denham, I'll be watching
for murder news from Greylock.

And if anything does happen, you'll see
that she's brought to justice?

Oh, sure.

Thank you, Mr. White.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr. Denham.
See you in a shroud.

You know, this has all the elements
of a swell murder mystery.

Greedy relatives try to toss wealthy
aunt into the booby hatch...

...so they can get hold of
her money.

Wealthy aunt outsmarts them,
and is declared sane.

Then she invites them all to her place
in the mountains to spend a week.

And tells them to get there
exactly at midnight.

Midnight. That midnight angle
intrigues me.

Forget it. How about your stuff
for tomorrow night's broadcast?

Midnight. Now why should she
insist on midnight?

She probably saw the Cat
and the Canary.

Now, will you please go
back to work?

Okay, O'Brien, you slavedriver.

Here's the lead for the broadcast.

Say, I'd like to sit in on this
little gathering.

You know, it ought to be funny.

I wonder if I drove up there
in my car to Greylock.

Oh, well.

Well, here we are.

Aunt Cassie can't say we aren't prompt.
It's still only ten minutes to twelve.

I don't care what time it is.
We shouldn't be visiting a crazy woman.

Oh, stop it, will you,
stop it!

- Oh, good evening, Eric.
- Evening.

Any of the others arrived yet?

Not yet.

Well, I guess we might as well
go along in then.

Guess you had.

- Good morning, Eric.
- It ain't morning,

- Because you'd be too late.
- Too late for what?

To late to be murdered, no doubt.

I tell you, Larry, I don't like this.

After all, Aunt Cassie is
your father's sister.

And as your father's widow, I think
I ought to tell you that...

That Father was a bit balmy.
Yes, Mother, I've heard all that before.

Well, you mark my words.

Oh please, Mother, do we have
to go through that again?

Better go on in if you wanna be
with Miss Cassie...

...when the clock strikes midnight.

They're all here, aren't they?

I watched them come from my garden.

- Yeah, they're all here.
- Fine. Fine.

For goodness' sake, Garson,
stop that pacing.

- You're making me nervous.
- Nervous, how do you think I feel?

Oh, you should feel nervous.

You started this whole thing getting us
to send that complaint against Aunt Cassie.

That's right, blame me for everything.

Of course you'd have been highly
pleased if I'd succeeded.

Naturally, but you didn't.

And now we have to spend the week
in this ratty old mansion.

It isn't compulsory, you know,
you can leave any time.

Sure we can. And have Aunt Cassie
cut us out of her will.

You'd love that, wouldn't you?
No, thanks.

- We are staying.
- Well, I'm hungry.

I think I'll see if there's anything
good in the icebox.

Tom Denham, don't you dare
leave this room.

How can you even think of food
when we're all in danger?

What danger? Why, Aunt Cassie
wouldn't hurt a fly.

Welcome to Greylock, my precious
relatives.

Aunt Cassie, and cousin Mary.

Aunt Cassie, I know that I speak
for all of us...

...when I say that we're delighted
to be here.

We certainly are.

And I always look forward to visiting
your charming old mansion.

Greylock is such a lovely, restful place.

Oh, Aunt Cassie, you look younger
every day.

Poppycock! Stop fawning over me.

A week ago you were trying
to put me in a padded cell.

But Aunt Cassie, you know we only
did it for your own protection.

- And to get her money.
- Be quiet, child.

I'll handle this.

I've been protecting myself for forty
years, since I was twenty-five.

I've done a pretty good job of it.

So let's forget about protection and, um...

Sit down, everybody.

First I want you to know I brought
you here for a purpose.

I want to study you all for a week.

Just like a scientist studies rats
and guinea pigs in his laboratory.

After all, I'm sixty-five,
I can't live forever.

Everyone must die someday.

Oh, please, Aunt Cassie,
don't talk about dying.

Why, you're the picture of health.

And...

Well, I want to say right now...

that I had nothing to do
with the attempt to...

Well, send you away.

It was all cousin Garson's fault.

He talked everybody into
signing the petition.

Silence. I don't care who started it.

The fact remains that sooner or later I'll
leave this valley of tears and laughter.

And when I do, I'll leave three
million dollars.

The bulk of it will go to the one
I find most worthy.

Which means, of course, I'll leave it
to someone in this room.

The worthiest of an unworthy lot.

But I warn you, flattery will
get you nowhere.

So be yourselves.

We'll retire now.

Breakfast will be served at eight.

I'll expect you, all of you,
to be at the table promptly.

I hope you sleep well.

Don't let the knowledge that you're
sleeping under the same roof...

...with three million dollars disturb
your slumbers.

- Come, child.
- Aunt Cassie.

You mean that you keep all that money
here in this house?

Why not? Would anyone try
to take it away from me?

I like to keep it around
to check up on it... once in a while.

But don't try to look for it.
You wouldn't find it in a million years.

Did you ring, Miss Cassie?

Yes. Have you placed the luggage
in the right rooms?

Everything is just as you
ordered it.

Good. Now we'll all have a splendid
night's sleep.

Come along. I'll distribute you.

For goodness' sake, quit thrashing around
like a hooked fish and go to sleep.

Oh, I can't sleep.

I've got too many things
on my mind.

Of course you wouldn't understand that,
not having any mind to speak of.

Well, I like that!

You drag me away from home
to spend a week...

...in this dreary museum and now
you insult me.

Where are you going?

To get a book from the library,
have you any objections?

No, go ahead.

Go and get killed wandering around
in the middle of the night.

You said yourself you had a premonition
of death before we left home.

No, I've revised my estimate
of the situation.

Aunt Cassie may be a bit eccentric,

but we're not in any danger.

You go to sleep, I shan't be long.

Mister Bob! Mister Bob!

Mister Bob!

Ain't no use in digging in
and pulling up covers.

You got a telephone to answer.
Wake up now!

You certainly is the sleepinest man!

Oh, give me those covers!

Your big trouble wants you
on the telephone.

Ain't no use arguing with Miss Nora.

Oh, O'Brien?

What, ten o'clock in the morning?

She knows better than that. Tell her
I never talk to anybody in my sleep.

She said you'd jump right out of bed...

...if I tell you your lawyer Denham
had met with some killing.

- What?
- Yes, indeed. Mr. Denham's a corpse.

- Well, why didn't you say so?
- I kept trying to, sir.

- Well, pack me a bag! Hurry up!
- Yessir, yessir.

Hooray, a murder!

Stop there!

- You can't come in here.
- I think you're wrong, officer.

My press card.

And my membership card
in your lodge.

Hm... Sheriff's Association.

Here, you might as well look
these over too.

Honorary memberships in police organizations
from Miami to Los Angeles.

Goofy, isn't it?
But then, some people collect matches.

Are you really Bob White,
the fellow that writes the column?

In the flesh, officer.

Meet my secretary,
Miss Nora O'Brien,

and the alert young gentleman
on the other side is Eddie Stetts,

one of the best newspaper photographers
in New York.

I'm sure he'll want to take your picture
before we leave, won't we, Eddie?

Oh, sure, sure.

Um, where will I find the sheriff?

Oh, Sheriff Boggs is holding an inquiry
in the house right this minute.

Thanks, officer.
Be vigilant.

Somebody in this room killed Garson
Denham with that knife...

...and I propose to find out who did it.

Why don't you get on with it
instead of walking up and down...

- ...and talking your head off?
- Murder cases take time.

I've got to do a lot of deducting.

Deducting! You sound like a millionaire
making out his income tax.

Alright, everybody, hold it, please!

- Thank you.
- Who are you?

I'm Bob White.
New York Evening Register.

With cameraman and secretary.

Don't tell me who you are,
let me think! You're, um...

You're Sheriff Boggs and you're conducting
an inquiry to the death of Garson Denham.

Hiya, Sheriff, how's the inquiry
progressing?

Well, confidentially, Mr. White,
it ain't going so hot.

- Oh.
- They won't talk.

- Nobody knows nothing.
- Open and shut case, huh?

Mostly shut.

Shutter than the dickens,
but I'll solve it.

You may not know it, Mr. White,
but I'm a regular reader of your column.

Well, thanks, Sheriff. Make a note of that,
I've got another reader.

Maybe when I do solve this
dastardly crime,

you can write one of them
editorials about me...

...like you wrote about Jeb Hoover,
Dr. Defoe.

I'd be glad to, Sheriff, but how about
the crime? Got any clues?

Only this knife. I found it sticking
on the corpus delicti.

- Take a look at it.
- No, no, no, no, Sheriff.

You take care of that,
I'm allergic to knives.

Dates way back to the time
he learned to used a fork.

Quiet.

Well, Miss Denham, I see your family
reunion got off to a nice little murder.

Something's always interfering
with my plans.

If you mention me in your column,
be sure and spell my name right.

Oh, you read my column?

- Yes.
- Well, thank you.

I was scared to death they's ask
me that on the witness stand.

If I'd admitted they'd have thought
sure I was crazy.

You know, Miss Denham,

you and I are just gonna get
along fine, just fine.

I tell you I got orders not
to let anybody in here!

Don't tell me I can't come calling on
Cassie Denham when she's in trouble.

Get out of my way!

Why, what are they doing
to you, Cassandra?

Are they accusing you of
killing Garson Denham?

If they are, I can tell them
they're wrong.

Any man who went snooping around
like he did last night...

...was bound to get his commeupance.

How did you know he was snooping?

I saw him... through the
library window.

- What time was that?
- About one o'clock in the morning.

Trowbridge Montrose,

what were you doing looking through my
library window at one o'clock in the morning?

Probably looking for a book.

Speak up, Mr. Montrose, how did you
happen to be snooping at that hour?

I was walking in my garden.

All of a sudden I saw a light
come on in Cassie's library.

I peeped through the window and saw
Garson Denham snooping.

Looking behind pictures and pulling
books from shelves.

- What else did you see?
- That was all.

When he quit snooping and sat
down to read, I went home.

Do you generally walk in your garden
at one o'clock in the morning?

Always, when the flowers are in bloom.

The scent of flowers at night is much
sweeter than it is in the daytime.

I love the scent of flowers at night.

Your name wouldn't be Ferdinand,
would it?

No.

I was christened Trowbridge
Cadwalader Montrose.

However, my grandfather's name
was Ferdinand.

That explains it, probably hereditary.

What is hereditary?

Um, look, Mr. Montrose, suppose
we forget the whole thing?

Mr. White, what is your theory
of this crime?

Well, Sheriff, I haven't had time to
theorize, but I have a suggestion.

- What is it?
- I have a friend in New York by the name of...

...Phylo Christopher.

Now, he writes murder mysteries,
if I send for him, probably he could help.

Oh no, you don't.

I've read all his books and I don't like
the way he solves his crimes.

He always brings in an outside
character in the last three pages...

...and pins the murder on him.

Just to fool his readers.

Nobody's gonna pin this murder
on an outside character.

Somebody in this room killed
Garson Denham.

And I'm going to apprehend
the guilty party.

An admirable determination, Sheriff,
and well put.

In the meantime we'll go to the village
and a arrange accomodations.

You'll do nothing of the kind.

We've plenty of empty rooms here
and you're welcome to stay.

In fact, Mr. White, you can sleep in
the bed George Washington once slept in.

What, another?

The father of our country certainly
got around, didn't he?

I accept your hospitality, Miss Cassandra,
and you're very kind.

In the meantime, Sheriff,
what happens now?

I don't rightly know.

You fool you blundering idiot!

How can you be so dumb?

You know this madwoman
committed the murder.

- Why don't you arrest her?
- Now take it easy, Mrs. Denham.

I've got no proof that she killed
your husband.

Proof? Proof?
What more proof do you want?

She invited us here for a visit.
And insisted we arrive at midnight.

Then she informed us she was going
to study us for a week.

Like rats or guinea pigs.

She had every reason to kill Garson.

Because he wanted to put her
where she belonged, in an asylum.

- I demand that you arrest her.
- Now, hold on.

Aunt Cassie's been doing queer things around
these parts as long as I can remember.

But she ain't crazy.
The court's just decided that.

And I'm arresting nobody
till I've got proof.

You fool! You're protecting
a murderess.

Tom, take me home. I'll not stay
in this house another minute.

Oh, yes you will.

Nobody's leaving Greylock
till I apprehend the killer.

Tom, take me to my room.

You all heard what I said.

Nobody's leaving the grounds
till this crime's cleared up.

I'll have men guard the place
day and night.

That's all for now.

Well, what about me?
I live next door.

You can go home.
My men will keep an eye on you.

Maybe after you get unpacked you'd
kinda like to talk this case over...

...before the coroner gets here.

Thanks, Sheriff, I'll be glad to.

Sutton, see that the press
is made comfortable.

Yes, ma'am.

Come, Mary.

I don't like this, Sherlock.
I'm scared stiff.

Chin up, Watson.

Come in.

- Hiya, honey, you all unpacked?
- Just about.

Charming old place, don't you think?

Yes, wonderful view from that window.

- Have a look?
- Yeah?

- I told you the view was wonderful.
- Yeah, but the murderer used a knife.

Well, maybe the next victim
will be poisoned.

Listen, darling, don't let this thing
get you. There won't be any more murders.

Come on, let's go down and
kid us with the sheriff.

Hi, Sheriff, any fingerprints?

No, can't find any. Take a look.

Oh, thanks.

- Do you see any?
- Come on, Sheriff.

Give me a shot of you holding
the knife.

A little higher.
Hold it!

Thank you.

Has the corpus delicti been
removed yet?

No, it's still in the library where
the coroner left it.

The undertaker's coming from
the village.

- Do you mind if I take a look at it?
- No, come on.

Thank... You'd better stay here,
this is not for you.

I'm a newspaperman, I can take it.

Hey, wait a minute.

That ain't Garson Denham.

You're right, Sheriff, that's
Larry Denham.

But he sure is a corpus delictus.

Bob, look!

Whoever knocked him off must
have come in the window.

You're a smart fellow.

No signs of anybody.

I'm going to round up everybody
and question them.

They can't do this to me.

Killing a man in broad daylight
and I'm right in the next room.

Well, here we go again,
Miss Denham.

What's happened? Have they found
the murderer?

Well, if he has, my bath water's
getting cold for nothing.

Be quiet!

What were you doing for the
last half hour?

I was transplanting a tree
near the entrance gate.

Deputy Judkins was with me.

That's right, Sheriff.

- What about you?
- I was greasing a car in the garage.

You look it.

- What were you doing?
- I was making apple pies.

And I'll never be done for dinner
at this rate.

- You got an alibi?
- I was counting the laundry.

The cook saw me.

And what were you doing?

I was spraying roses in my garden.

That's what he was doing, Sheriff,
I saw him mix the spray.

So did I. Poison.

I always use poison in my rose spray.

It's certain death to insects.

- Where were you, Miss Cassie?
- I was running my bath.

What's the matter?

I left the water running,
it'll ruin everything!

You stay right here.

One of you boys run upstairs and turn
off Miss Cassie's bath water.

Sit down.

Anybody with you while you
were drawing this bath?

- Yes, I was.
- Oh.

For a moment I thought I had something.

And I was walking in the garden
by the summer house.

You didn't walk by the library
by any chance, did you?

Yes, yes, I did, why?

Oh, just idle curiosity.

Anybody see you taking this walk?

I was watching him all the time, Sheriff.
He never got out of my sight.

- Well, Sheriff, that's that.
- It sure is.

- How about you, Mrs. Denham?
- I was lying down trying to rest.

Where's Larry?

Sheriff, where's Larry?

Well... you see, um...

- Larry's not here.
- Yeah, you're right, ma'am, he ain't.

He's dead.

Dead?

You mean... you mean Larry's
been murdered?

Yes, not only that...

...somebody stole the other
corpus delicti.

I told you to arrest her.
I warned you this thing would happen.

The woman is mad. She'll kill us all.

Larry! My poor Larry!

What do I do now?

Well, did you call the coroner?

No. I plumb forgot it.

One of you boys call the coroner
right away.

That's all for now.

What I said about nobody leaving
the grounds still goes.

Come on, Mary.

Alright, boys, keep an eye outside.

What do you folks make of this?
They've all got alibis.

I'm beginning to think maybe I did it.

If you did, you're holding out
on your paper.

- You haven't phoned in your story yet.
- That's right, I haven't.

Proving you're a columnist,
not a reporter.

Now look, mister.

Let's get out of this funny house
and go back to New York.

They'll be dancing in 52nd St. tonight...

...while we're playing tag
with a knife-thrower.

You got a fair start with your column with
readers from New York to Shanghai, China.

- Why take a chance?
- Relax, beautiful.

No one's gonna harm me, I'm the
handsome young juvenile in this story.

He never gets hurt.
Now you be a good girl,

get the editor on the phone and give him
enough stuff for a flash bulletin.

Tell him I'll send him a follow-up
story in an hour.

- Okay.
- Swell.

Say, um, Sheriff...

Do you suppose we can do a little
snooping in the library there...

...before the coroner gets here?

I guess it'd be alright if we
don't disturb nothing.

Swell.

It's gone!
There ain't no corpus delicti!

Things are now beginning to conform
to a pattern.

What are you talking about?

There comes a time in every
murder mystery...

...when all of the corpus delicti
are missing.

It generally happens just past
the middle of the picture.

I know how you feel, pal,
this thing's got me stumped too.

But we'll both keep trying,
we'll figure out together, eh pal?

Yes, sir, the law always catches up
with the guilty party.

Leave Greylock at once or you will die.

Better come out of there
or I'll shoot!

- Sheriff!
- Mr. White, your shirt!

Never mind my shirt!
I've just found the bodies.

- Where?
- They're all in a closet in my room!

Lead the way!

Where are the bodies?

I don't see anyone.

- Where have they gone?
- Are you sure you're not ill?

You got a bottle you've been
holding out on me?

I tell you they were right there!

I came in from that bathroom
and the statue was gone.

There was a note there saying, "You leave
Greylock at once or you will die"."

I rushed to the door and it was locked.

I looked at the key and saw
it was turned.

So I knew there was somebody inside
this room, so I went to the window there...

and it was locked. So...

- I grabbed my pistol out of that drawer...
- Then what?

And I pointed it right at the door
and said, "Come out of there or I'll shoot".

But they didn't come out.

So I went over to the door like this...

And I pulled it wide open!

Here they are again.

Who's crazy now, huh?

Give me time and I'll find out who stole
that statue and wrote that note too.

I don't care anything about
statues and notes.

Somebody call the coroner and
the undertaker.

I've got me two corpus delictises...

...and by golly nobody's gonna
take them away from me.

Sheriff, don't you think you ought
to let my relatives go home?

If the whole family is killed off,
there'll be nobody to inherit my money.

Sorry, Miss Cassie, nobody leaves
till I find the killer.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

I'll bet you a pretty penny there'll be more
killings before this thing is over.

Come, Mary.

Ten o'clock, in time for the last
minute news in flashes.

Ben Brian, New York.

Sheriff William Boggs, in charge of the
investigation of two murders...

...which occurred during the past
24 hours at Greylock,

the lovely mountain estate of
Miss Cassandra Denham,

issued a statement an hour ago predicting
early apprehension of the killer.

Several important clues have been
unearthed, the sheriff declared.

Detroit, Michigan. Pickets picketed
pickets today when...

Oh, you've got new clues,
eh, Sheriff?

Well... not exactly, but...

after all, I've got the
corpus delictises.

- But nothing else.
- No... but I've got the place guarded.

Not a soul can get passed my
men going or coming.

Good evening, everybody.

I was taking my usual walk
in the garden.

I thought I'd drop in and see if there
was anything I could do.

Didn't any of my men stop you
on the way in?

Why, no.

I saw no one.

Your deputies are regular
watchdogs, sheriff.

They'll be bloodhounds when I get
through dressing them down.

Well, I think I'll get a little shut-eye,
as you say in your column.

- Good night, everybody.
- Good night.

- I'll accompany you to the stairs.
- All right.

Cassie.

Is there anything you want
to tell me?

- No.
- Remember...

I'll always stand by you.

Don't overdo it.

Good night.

Good night.

That sweet little soul who just left
gives me the jiving jitters.

I wonder who she'll kill next.

Here, you cut that out,
you're jumpy as a pogo stick.

- She's not a killer.
- How do you know she isn't?

Because she's not strong enough
to shuffle the bodies...

...of two full-grown men around
like a set of indian clubs.

Well, I guess you're right.

How about a breath of fresh air
before we turn in?

- I need it.
- How about you, Ed?

No, thanks, night air irritates my throat
unless it's in nighclubs.

I'll grab a couple of shots of the chamber
of horrors while you're gone.

That room fascinates me.

Hey!

Oh, it's you!

- Did you get a good picture?
- I never miss.

That's fine.

If they look anything like me,
I'll buy a dozen.

Well, that is, if the price is right.

Look, Miss Cassie, are you nuts?

The law says I'm not.

Then why are you wandering
about in a subway?

Looking for a new victim, I betcha.

- You think I'm a murderess?
- If you ain't, why are you here?

- Can you keep a secret?
- I'm a newspaperman.

- Answer my question!
- Sure I can keep a secret.

Follow me.

Come on, come on.

I don't suppose you've seen many
ten thousand dollar banknotes...

...in your day, have you?

Ten thousand dollar banknotes?

Look, Miss Cassie, I'm lucky to cash
my beepers on a double sawbuck,

meaning potatoes, meaning dollars to you.

Well, here are two hundred of them.

Two million in currency
and a million in securities.

I want you to hold all of them
for me for safekeeping.

Me, carry three million dollars
around with me?

Lady, now I know you're crazy.

No, I'm wise. Whoever's committing
the murders is after my money.

And it's someone who suspects
I keep it in the library.

Otherwise, why would Garson and Larry
be murdered in the library?

- Sounds reasonable.
- It is reasonable.

But if you keep the money and the securities
hidden safely in your camera case,

no one will suspect
and I won't tell a soul.

Because you might be murdered too.

No, no, you find yourself another boy,
it ain't worth the risk!

Oh, yes it is, because when
the murderer is apprehended,

I'm going to give you one of
these nice, crisp banknotes.

You mean... you really mean I get
ten thousand dollars?

- Yes.
- Aunt Cassie, you made a deal.

Have you any idea who
the killer might be?

Oh, I hope it isn't the one I suspect.

- Who's that?
- My neighbor.

Trowbridge Montrose.

- You mean the flower smeller?
- Yes.

He's been in love with me for years.

I get it. A short engagement, huh?

Oh, we're not engaged.

I can't make up my mind.

Don't worry, you'll get around to it.

What makes you think he's the killer?

Because he was furious when my relatives
tried to put me in the insane asylum.

He cracked his knuckles.

And every time he does that
I know he's furious.

He wanted to give them a dose
of his rose spray.

You mean the poison that he kills
the bugs with?

Yes.

Oh, I do hope the next murder isn't
by poison. My mind would be relieved.

- Next murder?
- Oh, yes.

There will be other murders.

Goodbye.

Oh, boy, this thing's got me stymied.

- Let's sit down.
- Okay.

It's a cinch it's not Aunt Cassie,
she couldn't lug bodies around.

Neither could Martha Denham...

...nor Garson Denham's widow.

Or that niece that lives with
the old lady.

Then it must be a man.
How about Tom?

Oh, Tom, he doesn't strike me as a boy
who'd kill his father and his cousin.

- Somebody's coming.
- Hm?

Good evening.

- Oh... hello.
- Good evening.

Not very sociable, are they?

What did you expect them to do,
sit in your lap?

Oh, stop snapping at me, O'Brien.

Sorry.

You were eliminating suspects.

Well, the butler's out.
He's an old family retainer.

So's Katie the cook.

Fat people seldom commit murder.

But cooks do use knives.

Oh, not knives, antique knives,
two hundred years old.

Well, there's still the chauffeur
and the gardener.

And Mr. Trowbridge Montrose.

Montrose, Monty wouldn't hurt a fly.

I don't know about that.

When he talked about spraying bugs,
he had an unholy look in his eyes.

- Now, let's take the gardener.
- You take him.

All he wants is to be left alone.

- Well, there's still the chauffeur.
- He's out too.

He was asleep over the garage
when Garson Denham was killed...

...and under a car when Larry got it.

- But then who is the murderer?
- I don't know.

Maybe it's the little man that turns out
the light in electric iceboxes.

Very funny.

All on account of Aunt Cassie's money.

If only she'd distributed it where
it'd do some good,

there wouldn't have been any murders.

Why, Tommy, you sound like you begrudge
Aunt Cassie her money.

I do...

- He's dead.
- Who did it?

I don't know.
We were sitting here talking when...

all of a sudden he groaned and...

...then I heard someone run away.

Come on, Bud, let's have a look around.

We'd better go in the house.

Hey, somebody over by
that big tree.

Nobody here.

- He didn't climb up.
- Yeah, but we saw him go behind the tree.

Maybe he kept right on going
with the tree between him and us.

Hm, maybe you're right.

Well, I guess that's that.

I'll see you later.

Come on, let's go.

Oh, it's you.

Well, who'd you think it was?

Hey, suppose you tell me what you're
doing sneaking around this time of night.

I'm not sneaking around this
time of night,

I'm taking that can of oil to Michael
in the garage.

Oh, yeah? Well, come on, let's see
what Michael knows about this?

Come on.

Anybody here?

Yeah!

- Do you want something?
- Did you send this fellow for a can of oil?

Sure I did, what about it?

Well, for your information,
there's been another murder.

- Someone just killed Tommy Denham.
- Young Tommy?

That's why I tackled you in the garden.

Ah, wouldn't you know it.

Well, I guess we might as well
start for the house.

The sheriff will want to question
everybody again.

You know, if these murders don't stop,
I'm never gonna get that car greased.

Oh, that's gonna be tough.

It's the same thing all over again.

Everybody was everywhere else except
where the murder was committed.

Somebody's lying. Somebody in this room
murdered three men.

How long are you going to go on being
a fool? You know she's the guilty one!

I almost wish you were right.
I'd confess and get it over with.

It's all because of my money.

If I thought I could expose the murderer,

I'd destroy Greylock and all
my wealth this minute.

- Cassie, what are you saying?
- I mean it.

Sheriff, I wonder if I could have a word
with Miss Cassie alone.

- Sure, go on.
- Thanks, Sheriff.

Miss Cassie, would you mind stepping
into the library just for a moment?

Not at all.

- Miss Cassie, you missed your calling.
- What are you talking about?

You could have been the great
American Bernhardt.

Oh, that was a great act
you put on out there.

Come on, give.

What's your angle?

You're a young smart Alec,
aren't you?

Don't stall me, you've got
something on your mind.

- What is it?
- Well, to tell you the truth,

I've been toying with a surefire plan
to trap the murderer.

How?

I've been living in this museum piece
for sixty-five years.

I'm sort of tired of it.

It's sliding panels, and hidden
passages give me the horrors.

Sliding panels, hidden passages?

The place is honeycombed with them.

The old shack was a headquarters for the
colonial spies during the revolutionary war.

And a station for an underground
railroad during the Civil War.

I tell you, Mr. White,

every time you touch a wall in this place
it's liable to jump at you.

Yeah...

Yeah... then...

...maybe the murderer is hiding in
one of those secret passages now.

He might be.

But if he isn't, my plan is still good.

I'm going to set fire to Greylock.

You're gonna do what?

I'm going to burn the old shack down.

You see, whoever the killer is,

he or she is after my money.

Until today, I had three million in cash
and securities hidden in this house.

Today I removed it.

Your photographer has hidden it
in his camera case.

You... You mean to say
that Eddie's got...

three million dollars carried
around with him... in his camera case?

Yes.

If your money is safe, Miss Cassie,
why burn the place down?

Because the murderer will give himself away
if he thinks the money's going up in smoke.

The house means nothing to me.

For sixty-five years it's had me
hanging on the ropes.

I learned that bit of slang
reading your column.

But listen, that's arson.

Arson?

No, it isn't.

I have no insurance.

I'm not cheating anybody.

I'm just lighting a bonfire to take
a great load off my shoulders.

Oh, but it seems such a shame
to destroy such a lovely old place.

Oh, pishantosh!

If I don't burn it down, we'll all find
ourselves in the cemetery.

Besides, the upkeep of the
old shack is terrific.

What do you say?
Will you help me?

Well... okay. What's the setup?

You get everybody outside
on some pretext.

Leave the rest to me.
Keep your eyes open.

And the first one who makes a break
for the house is the murderer.

So long, Mr. White.

Hey, what do you mean "so long"?

- Keep your eyes open.
- I certainly wi...

So long, Mr. White.

Why should we be hurried out here
at this hour of the night?

Where's Aunt Cassie?

Calm yourself and don't
ask questions.

Hey, look!

- Oh, what is it, what's happened?
- What does this mean?

Don't get excited,
I set it on fire.

- I told you she was crazy.
- What are you doing, Cassie?

Don't you worry about anything.

But your money.
Your money is in there.

Yes, I know it.
It'll be destroyed.

I'm glad of it.
Money is a curse.

A curse that brings evil.

Keep your eyes open for the break.

You can't destroy it!
It's mine!

Mine, I tell you!

I've lived with you, put up with your
strictness, pretended to love you,

knowing that one day it would be mine.

Oh, I hated you.
Yet I pretended to love you...

...knowing that some day you would die
and your money would be mine.

Then when the others stepped,
in I killed.

Yes, Michael and I murdered so that
one day it would all be mine,

- I would your only heir!
- Shut up!

Tie her up!

Don't kill him!

- He's my husband!
- Your husband?

What are you talking about?

We've been married over a year.

Oh, don't let them kill him!
Don't, please don't.

- Take her to the village.
- Come on.

- Where is he?
- I swear he dashed behind this tree.

- I saw him too.
- So did I.

Come on.

How come you're not playing Daniel Boone
with the sheriff and his boys?

It's not quite time for the
marines to move in.

- Are the marines coming?
- They're practically here.

Folks, follow me, I'm about
to catch a killer.

Come on, folks, help me get this car
out of the grease pit.

Stand back, folks, I may have
to do a liitle shooting.

- What is this?
- Quiet.

Here he comes now.

Hey!

Come on, get out of there and keep
your hands in the air.

Hey, where'd you find him?

Popped out of a hole in the
ground just like that.

Thanks for tipping me off about
those secret passages.

I figured there must be one near
that big tree in the garden...

...after our friend here did that neat
disappearence act earlier in the evening.

Take him away, Sheriff.

March!

Trowbridge.

Will you marry me?

- Cassie, do you mean it?
- Of course I do.

I've got to live somewhere now
that Greylock's no more.

Maybe we can wake up Judge Hoskins
and get hitched tonight.

Darling!

Love is in the air.
Come on.

Here's your money, Miss Cassie.

And if it's all the same to you, I'll have
my ten Gs at this moment.

Here you are. You've earned it.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh...

Hey... Hey!

Hey, this is Confederate money!

It ain't worth a penny!

I guess I forget to tell you all.
I'm one of the Denhams of Virginia.

From the deep South.

Trowbridge, darling, you have enough real
money for both of us, haven't you?

- Ample, my pet.
- You'd better have.

You've been taking care of the old shack
and all my relatives for twenty years.

Well, what do we do now?

I don't know what you're
gonna do, brother, but...

I'm gonna do this.

Okay.

Hold it!

The Hays Office ain't gonna
like that long kiss.

- Subtitles -
Luís Filipe Bernardes