03x17 - The Case of the Mythical Monkeys

[bunniefuu]

( noirish jazz theme playing )

( thunder crashing )

Hello. Anybody home?

Please. Inside there.
I need help.

What the devil
do you want?

Sorry, mister. But my car's
stuck up the road.

Sorry too,
but I can't help you.

Please, mister. Have a heart.

Just-- Just let me use
your telephone.

I haven't either a heart
or a telephone,

so I suggest you--

I guess you'd better
step inside after all.

Oh, it's colder in here
than it is outside.

( shivers, sighs )

Say, why did you give me
such a funny look out there?

As though you recognized me
or something?

I thought maybe I did.

Say, you couldn't be,
by any chance,

the man I was
supposed to meet?

I hardly think so.

Well, does the name Mauvis Meade
mean anything to you?

The lady novelist?

Don't tell me
you're Mauvis Meade?

No, I'm her secretary,

Gladys Doyle.

I was supposed to pick up
a package for her

from a man in a cabin
somewhere up here.

( thunder crashing )

Isn't in the morning

an odd time
to be running errands...

even for lady
novelists?

Well, not for
Mauvis Meade.

Anyway, if I hadn't gotten lost
and then stuck,

I'd be home by now.

You never found the cabin
you were looking for?

No. I had a map.

But it was raining
so hard,

all I found
was a mudhole...

and you and
a case of pneumonia.

Why don't you use
the bedroom

and strip off as much
as you think advisable,

and...bring your clothes
out here to dry.

( thunder crashing )

Well, what about my car?

I'll take a look at it

as soon as it begins
to get light.

In the meantime,
I'll heat up some coffee.

( mysterious theme playing )

( thunder crashing )

Whew.

Boy, I must look
like a mess.

Hair like a wet mop
and a face like--

( mysterious theme playing )

( thud )

Hey. Where are you?

( thudding )

( thudding )

( thunder crashes )

( dramatic theme playing )

( thunder crashes )

( mysterious theme playing )

( door unlocks )

Oh, no.

Oh.

( door closes )

( sighs )

MAN:
I always wondered where you kept
your valuables, Mauvis.

Only it appears I've found out
just a little too late.

( sighs )

Too late, my eye.

I know who did this,
Gregory. You.

Oh, my dear. I'm a lawyer.

I may break wills and contracts,

but hardly ever into
the apartments of clients,

even if they leave
keys in the lock.

If you didn't do it,
you had it done.

I deny that.

But what's it matter,
after all? The damage is done.

They're all gone now.

The names, the places,
the times, the dates,

the photostats, the photographs.
All the little things

you like to use for
insurance policies, Mauvis.

I'll get more.

Do you really think
that would be wise?

( chuckles )

( coins jingle )

Ah, you know
something, Gregory?

Three years ago,
when I was a mousy hack...

writing for
the confession magazines...

I used to dream of this--

This, uh--

This lovely apartment...

bestselling novel,
huge motion-picture sale,

fame, money...

( chuckles )

...to burn.

( sighs )

Now I'd give
just about anything

to be that mousy
hack again.

Which, of course, is exactly
what you would be

if you hadn't
met me.

That was my unlucky day.

( chuckles )

How do you plan to
explain this, uh--?

This mess to the maids
and the apartment manager?

Burglars, I suppose.

Which means, of course,
you'll have to call the police.

So before you do,
I'll just take

that package
and clear out.

I haven't got it. I didn't
go to the cabin last night.

Why not?

Well, because, uh--

Because something
happened, and I--

( door buzzes )

That's Gladys.

Your secretary?

Get rid of her,
will you?

( door buzzing )

Oh. I know it's only :,
Miss Meade,

but instead of going home,
I came straight here becau--

What in the world happened?

I don't know.
Thieves, I guess.

I just got
here myself.

Look, what in the world
happened to you?

And where's
the package?

Well, I never found
the right cabin.

First, I got lost.

And then when I did hit
the right road, I got stuck.

( sighs )

And then I found
a dead man.

( sighs )

A dead man?

In a cabin I went to for help.

He'd been shot. I--

I don't know whether
he'd done it himself

or whether someone else had.

Well, what did this man
look like?

Well, he was a dark man...

in his forties.

An attractive man, Miss Meade.

He-- He looked like
one of those men

you'd see hanging around
gambling joints or--

Or nightclubs.

What did you do
when you found him?

I got out of there, fast.

You notify the police?

You're the first one I've told.

Gladys, let me have this
from the beginning.

GLADYS:
Well, I left
the Summit Inn

at a quarter
past ,

just like
you told me.

And I went
to that road.

Dukes Lawton, please.

Gregory Dunkirk.
Tell him it's important.

Oh, I'm sorry about
the package, Miss Meade,

but all I could
think about

was getting as far away
from there as I could.

Well, the package
will keep.

Well, what should I do
about the body?

Well, my first thought
is to forget about it.

Look, why don't you go home,
get out of these clothes,

and then we'll discuss
the pros and cons.

Well, you're sure
you won't need me here--?

No, I'm sure I won't
need you.

And you, uh--

You'd better get yourself
some breakfast too.

( door opens )

That was Joseph Manley
she was describing...

wasn't it?

Well, shouldn't you shed
a tear or two?

My tears are
for the package.

I wonder if she could be
lying about not having it.

Oh, I've already
made arrangements

to find out
about that.

( mysterious theme playing )

( door opens )

( dramatic theme playing )

Now, good morning, Perry.

( Mason speaks indistinctly )

Why, sure.
We work hand in glove

with the county authorities.

A body? Where?

Yes, I know the Summit Inn.

Scenic shortcut
to the main highway.

Yeah, about six and a half miles
to the junction.

The cabin on the right,
going up.

Yeah, well, how do you happen
to know all this?

Through a client,
lieutenant.

Ah. Professional privilege.

Well, we'll look into it.

Yeah.

Well...now we can
go to work ourselves.

( knock at door )

Did you
want me, Perry?

Oh, yes, Paul.

Miss Doyle, this is
Paul Drake.

The Drake
Detective Agency.

How do you do, Miss Doyle?
Hello.

Paul, Miss Doyle is employed
by Mauvis Meade,

the woman who wrote
"Chop the Man Down."
Mm-hm.

Yesterday, Miss Meade

sent her to
the Summit Inn,

to substitute
for Miss Meade

in an interview with a writer
named Edgar Carlisle,

who apparently is connected with
Screentime Magazine.

Della, see if Edgar Carlisle
is in the telephone book.

Well, after
the interview,

and still following
her employer's instructions...

she left the Summit Inn
a little after midnight

for a cabin, where
she was to meet a man

who had a package
for Miss Meade.

Only I got lost and then stuck.

While she was trying
to find her way,

she came across
a lighted cabin.

In the cabin, a young man
who seemed to recognize her.

And was it
the right cabin?

Oh. We're not sure.

While she was there,
the young fellow vanished.

In one of the bedrooms,
she found a dead man,

a revolver on the floor
beside him.

Homicide?

Well, Tragg will
have to determine that.

In the meantime,
send one of

your men up to
the cabin.

Check over
everything up there:

ownership, the people
who visited there...

and the identity
of the dead man.

All right.

And have a check run
on Mauvis Meade.

Well, if she's anything
like the picture

on the back of her book,
that'll be a pleasure.

Have you read
the book?

No, but I hear
it's pretty sexy.

And the scoop is
that the main plot,

about some bigtime
tax-dodging operators,

was supplied by Miss Meade's
great and good friend,

Gregory Dunkirk.

The lawyer?

Have a thorough check
run on him.

Perry...with Dunkirk's
underworld connections,

he's a pretty dangerous guy
to fool around with.

Hm.

So am I. So get going.

( chuckles )

( mysterious theme playing )

( doorbell rings )

Yes?

My name is Mason.

Yes?

Mr. Carlisle here?

Mr. Carlisle?

Edgar Carlisle. He writes
for Screentime Magazine.

Edgar used to work
for Screentime Magazine.

He doesn't now?

Oh, no. Edgar's dead.

Dead?

WOMAN:
You must have read it
in the obituary columns.

This morning?

Oh, no. Edgar passed on
two months ago

after a long illness.

I didn't know.

I'm sorry to have
disturbed you, Mrs. Carlisle.

Miss Carlisle.
Edgar was my brother.

Seem to have
spent Sunday

being interviewed by
a dead man, Miss Doyle.

But he told me his name
was Edgar Carlisle.

And so did Miss Meade.

I'm not lying, Mr. Mason.
Honest, I'm not.

Never occurred to me
that you were.

I don't care
what you're selling!

I don't want to have
anything to do with you

or Edgar Carlisle,
or anyone else.

All I'm asking is $,,
Miss Meade.

Surely the information--

It isn't worth
a penny.

I don't wanna
get mixed up in this.

Now, you get outta here,
and you leave me alone.

I'm sure if you think
it over, you'll recon--

Did you hear me?

I told you to
get out of here.

Now, get out.

Get out. Get out!

Please. Please. N--
N-n-no v*olence. Please.

Get out!

Terrible woman,
terrible temper.

I'll never help anybody again.
Never. Never.

( door slams )

Look, if you want
a broken hand, you--

You, uh, dropped this,
Miss Meade.

I threw it...

at an obnoxious
little man

who was trying
to sell me something.

( Mauvis sighs )

Well...now, who
might you be, stranger?

My name is
Perry Mason.

MAUVIS:
Oh, yeah.

Retained by
Gladys Doyle.

Well, come in.

Come in, Mr. Mason.

Uh...please sit down.

Can I get you a drink?

Oh, it's a...

trifle
early for me.

Ha.

Me too, except on days

when people ransack
my apartment.

I suppose Gladys told you?

Anything of value
missing?

Mm-mm.

No, just some,
uh, clothes

and some
costume jewelry.

Luckily, I had
my real jewels with me.

I, um-- I hope
you haven't come

to chide me, Mr. Mason.

I may just burst
into tears.

Chide you for what,
Miss Meade?

Well, for telling Gladys
to forget all about the, uh...

dead man
she claims to have found.

Why do you say
"claims to have found"?

Don't you believe her?

Now, I have no doubt that she
got stuck somewhere last night,

and she went to some, uh,

cabin or cottage or whatever

to, uh, ask somebody for help.

But I'm sure the, uh,

corpse was merely

some man asleep.

On the floor? With
a revolver beside him?

Um, you believe her
if you want to.

I will too, if it means
getting along with you.

You're, um...

an attractive man,
Mr. Mason.

I'm a very hard-working man,
let's say.

Well, maybe it's time
you took a vacation.

Mm-mm. Not while I'm
representing a client.

Oh. Oh, yeah.
I forgot.

It was, uh...

Gladys who
brought you here,

not my charms.

All right, counselor,
I'm, uh, your witness.

Well, I'd like to know
something about that package

you, uh, wanted Gladys
to pick up for you.

Package? I didn't ask her

to pick up any package.

Did she say I did?

Let me ask you
something else

before I
answer that.

Did you, uh...

send Miss Doyle to
the Summit Inn yesterday?

Yes. To keep
an appointment with a writer

who wanted to do
a story on me.

You never saw
Edgar Carlisle in person?

No. He telephoned.
And when I told him

that I usually spent
my weekends at the Inn,

he agreed to
meet me there.

Only I sent Gladys.

She also says
you gave her instructions

to leave the inn
after midnight...

take a back road
to a cabin,

and, there, pick up
a package.

( chuckles )

Well, now, Gladys'
imagination

seems to be
working overtime.

You didn't dictate

instructions to
Miss Doyle,

mentioning the package,
and giving her directions,

from a map on which you'd
drawn a sketch of the cabin

and marked
its location?

I told her about a shortcut

from the inn to the highway...

and I showed her a map
on which I'd marked it.

But there were no cabins,
I assure you.

Now, would you like see
that map, Mr. Mason?

Yes, I would like to
see that map.

( footsteps, floor
creaks in room )

Any luck?

It's around somewhere.

Ah. There it is.

What are you doing,
Mr. Mason?

Just checking
for wet ink.

( dramatic theme playing )

I went as far as the door
with her,

and then I went back to
the drugstore

to pick up a few things
she'd forgotten.

And when I went back, I--

I rang and I knocked.

And no answer?

She just wasn't
there, Perry.

Uh. I knocked loud enough
to wake a riveter.

You suppose we should
call the police?

( knock at door )

Oh. Afternoon, Della, Perry.

MASON:
Oh, hello, Tragg.

What can we do for you?
Here, sit down.

Well, as a matter
of fact, there's

something I can do
for you.

Tell you some news.

Uh, about the, uh,
cabin and the body?

They were there, all right.

Just where
you said they'd be.

Was it homicide?

Well, the man was shot
three times.

Have you identified
the body?

I was hoping you'd tell me
who he was.

Oh, well, I can't.

I realize you don't have to
answer, Perry.

But this has become
a far more serious matter

than it was at first.

I'm sure of that...

but at the moment,
I still prefer not to say

what my client knows
or does not know.

Why be so cagey?
Why not just say Gladys Doyle?

Gladys Doyle?

Yes.
( phone rings )

I wish I could say
that I unearthed her,

but I can't.

The credit goes to
the Burglary detail.

Yes.
( man speaks indistinctly )

Hold on
a minute, Paul.

I don't
follow you, Tragg.

Well, it's all
very simple.

On, uh, burglary jobs,
like Mauvis Meade's,

the first people
you talk to are--

Are maids and secretaries,
and the like.

So the officers went to
Miss Doyle's apartment.

When they began to question her

about the muddy clothes
she had on,

she told them about
the body she'd found.

So they took her downtown?

Now are you willing to tell me
what she told you?

I'd like to talk to her.
Where is she?

Well, you'll find that out
when they've booked her...

counselor.

Booked? What could
they possibly book her for?

My guess would be...

m*rder.

( door closes )

Did I hear you
tell Paul to hold on?

Mm-hm. He has to
talk to you.

Hello, Paul.

Good work. Has he
a family?

Oh, we'll both go.

I'll meet you downstairs.

One of Paul's operatives
has identified the dead man.

He's a gambler working for
the Whispering Sands Motel

in Las Vegas.

Paul and I are
gonna fly up there

to talk to his wife
before the police do.

See you later.

( mysterious theme playing )

( knock at door )

You didn't give me
much--

Don't scream.
I won't hurt you.

Just keep your back
towards me.

( tense theme playing )

( door closes )
Where's Mason?

Uh, h-he's out of town.

Are you
his secretary?

Yes.

Then take this for him.

No, you don't.

Tell him it used to
belong to Mauvis Meade.

( door opens )

( door closes )

( operator speaks
indistinctly )

DELLA:
Operator, uh, please get me

the Whispering Sands Hotel
in Las Vegas.

Yes, please.

Mrs. Manley?

Yes?
My name's Drake.

I'm trying to locate
your husband.

Well, he's off
on a trip.

Trip? Where?

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

Look, I can't
talk to you here.

I'm supposed to
be working.

Hm. You are working,
Mrs. Manley.

At least to the extent
of one silver dollar.

Uh, two
silver dollars.

( shuffles cards )

Why all the interest
in my husband?

We do some insurance
work, Mrs. Manley.

We believe he's
the Joseph Manley

who witnessed
an accident

last night near
the Summit Inn.

Uh, hit me, lightly.

I'll stand.

The, um...

Summit Inn
in California?

MASON:
That's right.

That can't be Joseph.

He's in Arizona on business.

Goes there every weekend.

I'll pay .

I was led to
believe that, uh,

he was employed
here.

Part-time. Like me.

Part-time by...

some other people.

Viola, I've gotta talk
to you. It's important.

( sighs )
Excuse me.

( speaks
indistinctly )

I don't know how to tell
you this, but he's dead.

Joe's dead.

Some woman k*lled him.

A-are you sure?
Are you absolutely sure--?

It was on the radio.

But...

those men said Joe saw
an accident last night--

What men?

Those insurance men.

Insurance--

Viola, those men
aren't insurance men.

You-- You'd better go.

Who was that,
Mrs. Manley?

My brother, Caspar.

He told me something...

you've apparently
known all along.

That my husband is dead.

Mrs. Manley,
I'm sorry about this.

But we do have a legitimate
reason for being here.

You see, I'm
an attorney.

I'm representing
the young woman

who supposedly...

k*lled your husband.

Caspar didn't
tell me her name.

Gladys Doyle.

( dramatic theme playing )

Gladys Doyle?

Gladys Doyle?

Do you know her?

No. I-I--

I never heard of her.

( tense theme playing )

Oh, you made
good time, Paul.

Hi, Pete.

Pete Kelton,
Mr. Mason, Miss Street.

Kelton's the operative
who identified Manley.

Any leads as to...

how he happened to be
k*lled up here?

Well, folks
in the area

say he was a regular
weekend visitor.

Oh?

But I'm not sure if
he rented the cabin,

or someone else did.

The owner's
a man named Findlay.

But he and his wife
are on a vacation

down in Lower California
somewhere.

Hm.
Oh, the police
locked the cabin, Mason.

I wasn't intending
to go inside.

When I spoke to Gladys
this morning,

after she'd
been charged...

she, um, told me
something else

about Mauvis Meade's
instructions.

In case the man she was supposed
to meet wasn't here...

she was to look for
the package in a coffee can

under the porch
roof.

Let's see.

This looks like
a coffee can.

( grunts softly )

( slow, mysterious theme
playing )

Should've been empty.

It's a woman's
scarf.

PAUL:
And some .-caliber shells.

KELTON:
Well, Manley was k*lled
with a ..

MASON:
Well, that isn't
the important thing.

DELLA:
That's the monkey scarf
Mauvis Meade was wearing

when she was
photographed

for the back cover
of her book.

( slow, mysterious theme
playing )

MAUVIS:
Mm-hm.

This was
my favorite scarf.

At least at the time
this picture was taken.

Do you still have
the scarf?

Why?

Well, if it's as handsome
as it appears to be,

I'd like to give one like it
to a young lady I know.

Oh. Huh.

Well, I'm afraid your
young lady's just out of luck.

It's a--

A one-of-a-kind item.

In fact, I think I gave
that scarf to Gladys.

Why don't you ask her
where it is?

I did. She said
she never had it.

Oh. Well, Mr. Mason,
in time, you'll learn

that there's often
no relation between the truth

and what Gladys says.

Oh, now, I feel
sorry for her,

with all this trouble,
but she asked for it.

Now, uh, what's
all this hanky-panky

about my monkey
scarf?

Or is that just an excuse
to talk to me?

I did want to ask you
one question.

When you reported
what was missing

after your apartment
had been ransacked,

didn't you forget
one thing?

Didn't you forget to
include a bulky envelope

you once showed
Miss Doyle, marked:

"To be opened in
the case of my death"?

An envelope you kept
in here?

That will be
enough, Mason.

I'm advising Miss Meade not to
answer any further questions.

You'd be, uh,
Gregory Dunkirk.

That's correct.
And as Mauvis' attorney,

I suggest you comply with
her wishes and leave.

MAN:
While you still can on
your own power, Mr. Counselor.

A bodyguard...and a--

A lawyer. Mm.

I hadn't realized you were
in so deep, Miss Meade.

But since you do
have a lawyer,

I'll be only too happy
to defer my questions

until I have the opportunity
of asking them in court...

while you're under oath.

( slow, dramatic theme playing )

BURGER:
Now, referring to
this .-caliber revolver

found in the m*rder cabin
and introduced in evidence

as People's Exhibit C:

When this w*apon was tested
in the police laboratory,

were you present, by any chance,
Lieutenant Tragg?

Yes, Mr. Burger,
I was.

Well, as a result
of the ballistic tests,

we were able
to report

that the slugs found
in the deceased's body

were fired from that revolver.
I see.

Now, in addition
to this revolver,

what was found
in the m*rder room?

Well, fingerprints
of the defendant were found

on the, uh, footboard
of the bed,

on the, uh, panels
of the door.

And, uh, we also found
the defendant's prints

in the other
bedroom.

I show you these various items

and ask if you can
identify them for us.

Yes, sir.
They've been marked.

I call your attention
to this tube of toothpaste.

Yes, in searching
the defendant's

apartment in town,

we found a tube
of the same make.

And I call your attention,
now, to this comb.

Yes, sir. Two brunette hairs
were found

in the teeth of the comb.

Laboratory tests proved
that they came from the head

of the, uh...

defendant...

Miss Gladys Doyle.

Did you leave
those things there?
No.

BURGER:
Now, lieutenant,
what else did you find

among the effects left behind
in the other bedroom?

The letter...

that starts,
"Dearest sweetheart--"

Ah, yes. Never mind,
uh, lieutenant.

I show you this letter
and ask if it's the one

you're referring to.

Yes, sir. It has
my initials on it.

And what can you tell
this court about the letter?

Well, we found, uh, several
latent fingerprints on it,

and one clear print
of an index finger

that, uh, belonged
to the defendant.

BURGER:
Uh, what about the handwriting,
lieutenant?

TRAGG:
Yes, sir. Three experts
are presently engaged

in identifying
the handwriting.

Just tell us, please, what
the experts are testing for.

Well, inasmuch
as we found

the fingerprints
of the, uh, deceased

on the letter paper,

and the name, Joe,
as a signature,

they are testing
the handwriting

against the handwriting
of the deceased.

I see. If it
please the court,

I should like these items
that I've just mentioned

entered in evidence and marked
as exhibits for the state.

MASON:
Uh, no objection, Your Honor.

Yes, I own that cabin.

Along with a dozen or so
others I rent out.

Well, would you
tell us, please,

when and to whom
you last rented

the particular cabin

we've been discussing?

Well, a little over
a year ago,

a woman telephoned me
at my office.

She said she'd seen
my sign on the cabin,

wanted to know
what the rental was.

I told her $
a month.

And she took it.

Well, did you know
this woman's name?

Yes. Gladys Doyle.

And did you ever see
this woman?

FINDLAY:
No. She just kept
mailing me the rent,

first of
every month,

in an envelope

containing a single
$ bill.

Now, Mr. Findlay, as an
experienced real estate man,

would you say this was
a common way to do business?

Well, not common, but, uh,
not, uh, uncommon, either.

I've had clients
like this before.

People wanting
to use my cabins

for, uh...

Well, as, uh,
love nests,

so to speak.

Love nests. Really.

To you, counselor.

Mr. Findlay...

concerning this monthly
rental you spoke of.

Was there a return address
on the, uh, envelope?

Nothing except a postmark.
Los Angeles.

And as to the, um...

woman's voice you, uh,
heard on the telephone.

Would you be able to identify it
if you heard it again?

That's a point I've been
going over in my mind.

No, sir, I wouldn't.

Thank you, Mr. Findlay.
That'll be all.

When did you last see
your husband alive, Mrs. Manley?

A week ago
last Friday.

Were you subsequently requested
by appropriate authority

to view his body for
purposes of identifying him?

The following Tuesday
here in Los Angeles.

It was Joe's body.

My husband,
Joseph Manley.

Thank you, Mrs. Manley.

Cross-examine.

Mrs. Manley,

before your husband died,

did he ever mention
the name of Gladys Doyle?

No, never.

Did he ever mention the name
of Miss Doyle's employer,

Mauvis Meade?

MRS. MANLEY:
No.

MASON:
Did your brother ever mention
the name Mauvis Meade?

MRS. MANLEY:
Caspar?

Oh. Why, I'm sure he's
never even heard of her.

Thank you, Mrs. Manley.

JUDGE:
The witness may stand down.

Now...your name
is Mauvis Meade,

and you are the author
of a current bestseller

called Chop the Man Down.
Is that correct?

I am.

Are you acquainted
with the defendant?

Yes. She was
my secretary.

( door opens )

Uh, Your Honor,
may I have permission, please,

to interrupt this
for a moment

for the purposes of
having a short conference?

Of course, Mr. Burger.

Perry. That's
Paul's man

who was
at the cabin.

What is it?

I think the roof's
about to fall in.

If it please the court...

the prosecution has
just received some information,

and it feels duty-bound
to present that information

to the court
at this time.

Information

on the basis of which
I intend to bring charges

against Mr. Mason for
concealing evidence

and obstructing
the administration of justice.

Then Mr. Mason said,
"This looks like a coffee can."

Inside it...

were a woman's scarf
and some b*ll*ts.

What caliber b*ll*ts?

Thirty-two caliber.
The same as the m*rder g*n.

And what did Mr. Mason do
with this scarf

and these b*ll*ts?

KELTON:
He put them in his pocket.

Thank you.
There, Your Honor.

That's as clear a case
of suppressing evidence

as I've ever seen.

Mr. Mason?

Before the testimony of
this witness is taken as final,

I believe I have the right
to cross-examine, Your Honor.

You have. And
I'll be pleased

if you can clarify
this matter.

Mr. Burger.

I'm sorry,
Mr. Mason,

but I've got a license
to protect and a family.

Hm. Just answer
my questions, please.

Now, when I took
the b*ll*ts...

and that scarf with me,

did I say
they were evidence?

No.

Did you or anyone else
there at that time

suggest that they might be
evidence?

No.

Are you able to say
with certainty, even now,

that they are evidence
in this case?

Well, no, I guess I can't.

Ah, that's all.

All, Mr. Mason?

Um...except for one or two
questions of Lieutenant Tragg,

if Your Honor
will bear with us

for the few minutes
it will take

for him to return to court.

Very well.
We'll recall him.

You may stand down.

Yes, Your Honor?

Will you please take the stand,
lieutenant?

Lieutenant Tragg...
didn't you testify

that you and your men
searched the cabin

immediately after
finding the body?

Yes, sir.
From top to bottom.

And was there a coffee can
under the porch roof?

Yes, there was.

Did you examine it?
Naturally.

What did you find?

Nothing.
The coffee can was empty.

( people murmuring )

MASON:
Thank you, lieutenant.

Your Honor, I realized
that the scarf and the b*ll*ts

had been planted in
the coffee can after the fact.

Otherwise, Lieutenant Tragg
would have found them.

So they can hardly be considered
evidence of m*rder.

I do believe
they were intended

to confuse the issues
in this case.

Nevertheless,
Your Honor,

I'm going to insist
that these items

be produced
in court.

They will be, Mr. Burger,

but at the convenience
of the defense.

Which will be after lunch,
gentlemen, as I, um--

I find the noon recess
is upon us.

Court will reconvene
at :.

( slow jazz music playing )

I checked at
the Summit Inn.

Found this
in the publicity files.

Gladys Doyle
and Caspar Pedley.

Only on that particular Sunday,
Caspar was operating

as Edgar Carlisle.

Mrs. Manley's
brother?

Uh-huh. The same.

Phone call for you,
Mr. Mason.

Paul, did you tell anyone
where we were having lunch?

Nope.

Neither did we.

Mason speaking.

MAN ( on phone ):
When you get Mauvis Meade

on the stand, Mason,

ask her about the $ bills

she drew from the bank
each month.

Who is this?

MAN:
Never mind. Just ask her

if those aren't the bills
she used

to pay the rent on the cabin.

( line clicks dead )

Hello? Hello?

That almost has to be
the man

that Gladys met
in the cabin.

He must have
followed us here.

Della, you check
all the phone booths

to the right
on this side of the street.

Look for a blond man
about .

Paul, you check all
the booths to the left.

I'll check
the parking lot.

All right.

Some gin?

( slow, dramatic theme playing )

Yes, Mr. Mason.

I was supposed to meet
a friend here.

Blond man about .

He called me a few minutes ago,
probably from your phone booth.

Oh, yes. That's his car.
The second one over.

He just went
across the street

to get cigarettes.

Thank you.

( footsteps approaching )

Mason?

What the devil do you think
you're doing?

Richard Gilman?

Yes. But how
did you--

This subpoena is
answerable this afternoon.

( tense theme playing )

Now, let me get this straight,
Mr. Gilman.

As a federal agent,

you are conducting
an undercover investigation

of certain
income tax frauds

involving Las Vegas
gamblers

and a Los Angeles
contact.

Yes, sir.

And a court appearance
by you

would wreck
this investigation?

That's why
my superiors in Washington

ordered me
not to come forward.

I tried to give you a break
with the map I found,

moving Miss Doyle's car
out of the mud...

and with the phone call.

Ended up in the mud
myself, I guess.

It seems
to me, Perry,

that you'll be doing
the government a disservice

if you insist upon
Mr. Gilman's testifying.

I'll be doing my client
a disservice if I don't.

Yeah, but what
can he testify to?

He says he arrived at the cabin,
found the fire already lighted.

He started a search, but was
still in the first bedroom

when Miss Doyle arrived.

And he left, himself,
shortly thereafter.

He doesn't know
of his own knowledge

whether she k*lled
Manley or not.

I suggest you weigh this
very carefully, Perry.

I'll do this much.

I'll try to go ahead
without Mr. Gilman's testimony,

provided he answers...

one or two things for me now.

I'll do my best.

As I understand it...

you're investigating
the transfer

of some rather large sums
of unreported gambling winnings

from a Las Vegas
group

to an agent here
in Los Angeles.

That is correct, yes.

Uh, what's the purpose
of the transfer?

To dodge paying
an income tax on it.

You see, if the money
were banked in Las Vegas,

or put in safety deposit boxes,
we could uncover it

by a federal court order,
and levy on it.

But if it keeps showing up
in foreign countries

whose banks we can't touch...

then they've got it made.

What about the cabin?

It's a way station
out of the country.

Or, at least,
we got a tip that it was.

That's why I was up there,
to look around.

Did your tipster tell you

that Joseph Manley was
a messenger for the gamblers,

and that Mauvis Meade was
their Los Angeles contact?

I can't answer that.

You left rather quickly
when Gladys Doyle arrived.

Was that because
you recognized her

as Mauvis Meade's secretary

and thought you'd walked
into a trap?

I can't answer that, either,

unless, of course,
you put me under oath.

Which we've decided
we don't want to do.

I think there's someone
waiting in court

who can answer that.

Someone already under oath.

( dramatic theme playing )

Haven't you been
listening, Mr. Mason?

I told you
that I didn't know

anything about a cabin
or a package.

And if Gladys
says I do,

then she's not
telling the truth.

And you are, Miss Meade?
Yes.

This map shows the...

shortcut from
the Summit Inn.

On the shortcut is a point
labeled "cabin."

And above it is a sketch
of the m*rder cabin.

Isn't this your map...

and your sketch,
Miss Meade?

I never saw it before.

Do you know the penalty
for perjury?

A term in prison,
Miss Meade.

But I have a feeling
a worse penalty

awaits you unless
you speak out now.

Do you recognize this?

Why, yes, it--

It's, uh...

my monkey scarf.

Would it surprise you
to learn that this was found

in a coffee can
at the m*rder cabin

and contained a handful
of .-caliber b*ll*ts?

What?

Did you k*ll
Joseph Manley?

No.

Then is someone trying
to frame you for m*rder?

Haven't you been in fear
of your life for weeks?

In such fear that in
an effort to protect yourself,

you hid certain documents
in an envelope marked:

"To be opened in
case of my death"?

Isn't it true that
your apartment was ransacked

and that envelope
taken?

And isn't it true
that someone

posing as a writer
named Edgar Carlisle

tried to lure you
to the Summit Inn

on the day of
the m*rder?

And that when you...

found that Edgar Carlisle--

the real Edgar Carlisle
--was dead,

had been dead for two months,
you became terrified.

Sent the defendant,
Gladys Doyle, in your place?

And isn't it true
that that man,

Dukes Lawton, is not
your bodyguard...

but a gunman hired
to make sure

you do not
tell the truth?

Uh, may I be heard, Your Honor?

My name is Gregory Dunkirk,

and I'm representing
Miss Meade.

Is this true,
Miss Meade?

The court will
protect you.

Just tell the truth.

MAUVIS:
Mr. Dunkirk is--

Is not my lawyer.

He's one of those
who's threatening me.

Do you know what
you're saying, Mauvis?

You will be quiet, sir,
or I'll hold you in contempt.

JUDGE:
Please explain why

you are being
threatened, Miss Meade.

Um...

several years ago, I--

I got mixed up with Gregory--

Um...Mr. Dunkirk.

He, uh, operated on the fringes
of the underworld,

and I found him a fascinating
character for my book.

So fascinating
that I got involved

in the underworld
myself. As a...

messenger at first.

Involved, as Joseph Manley
was involved?

Yes.

He, uh-- He brought
the package of money

from...Las Vegas to the cabin,

which...

I rented under
Gladys' name.

Gentlemen...

in view of
our earlier discussion...

don't you agree it is advisable
to continue in my chambers?

MASON:
With the court's permission,

before we retire, may I
ask one or two questions

solely related
to the m*rder?

Provided they're discrete
questions.

Yes, Your Honor.

Now...

did you k*ll
Joseph Manley?

No.

Did you tell him
about the documents

you'd hidden
in the envelope?

Foolishly, yes.
And he, uh--

Well, he must have
told his employers.

Were you...

having an affair
with Joseph Manley?

Yes, I was.

MASON:
Could you possibly have left
your scarf in the cabin,

and could he, at one time
or other, have taken it?

That must have been
what happened.

Why did Joseph Manley's
brother-in-law, Caspar Pedley,

come to see you?

Well, he--

He came to sell me
some information

regarding Edgar Carlisle. I--

Uh, I thought it was
a trick, and so I--

I sent him away.

Hm.

With the court's
permission,

I would like to call
Caspar Pedley to the stand.

Very well, Mr. Mason.

Why, that's Edgar Carlisle.

MASON:
Mr. Pedley...

I show you
this photograph

taken from
the publicity files

of the Summit Inn.

Does it convey
anything to you?

Yes. I...

I posed as Edgar Carlisle.

It was Joe's--

It was my brother-in-law
Joseph Manley's idea.

He-- He paid me to pretend
to be Edgar Carlisle.

Why would Joseph Manley want to
play that kind of a trick

on Miss Meade?

Well, he said his bosses
wanted to make sure

that Miss Meade wasn't
at home on Sunday.

Why did you continue
your deception

when Gladys Doyle showed up
instead of Miss Meade?

I didn't know
what else to do.

I think you did know what to do.

Oh. Oh, you mean

about going to
Miss Meade's later and--

And trying to sell her
information?

I'm not talking about
your visit to Miss Meade.

I'm talking about leaving
Gladys Doyle at the Summit Inn,

going directly
to the cabin,

where you knew
your brother-in-law would be,

and, there, k*lling him.

No.

Taking the package of money
from its hiding place

and later replacing it
with a scarf

and a handful of b*ll*ts

in an effort to frame
Mauvis Meade for m*rder.

No, no, no. No,
you got it all wrong.

I didn't k*ll Joe.

She did it.

She k*lled
him.

( dramatic theme playing )

PEDLEY:
She figured
Miss Meade

would come back
to the cabin

later that night
and be involved.

And then she learned from you
the next night

that Miss Doyle
was accused.

So she came back with
the b*ll*ts and the--

And the scarf that she found
among Joe's things, and--

And she put 'em
in the coffee can.

( whimpering )

Yes, I did it.

( melancholy theme playing )

It was that girl
I hated.

Got him mixed up with her.

It was she I was jealous of.

I should've k*lled her...

instead of him.

( dramatic theme playing )

DELLA:
I think planting
that love letter, the comb,

and those
other personal things,

to make it look as if
Joseph Manley and Gladys

were having
a love affair,

was terrible.

A matter of
desperation, Della.

Dunkirk and Mauvis Meade
had to act fast.

The irony was somebody else
was up to the same trick...

only they were planting
the evidence against Miss Meade.

You mean the, uh,
.-caliber b*ll*ts

and the monkey scarf.

That's right, Paul.

Well, I'm glad you got some sort
of a fee for all your work.

Hmm. Oh, in addition
to this scarf...

I also received
Miss Meade's autograph

on a very handsome check.

She said that Gladys
had always been

an excellent secretary,

and she felt that
she owed something to her.

Besides, she had to have someone
take care of her affairs

for the next
couple of years.

( noirish jazz theme playing )