05x09 - The Case of the Posthumous Painter

[bunniefuu]

(theme song playing)

(waves crashing)

*

Well, like I said,
I'm walking my dog,

when I see the man get out
of this parked convertible.

All of a sudden, the guy walks
right out into the ocean,

with all his clothes on.

Strikes me as kind of funny,

but then we get all sorts
of oddballs coming

to the beach.
Well, anyway,

I take the dog in the house
and I'm getting ready
for bed, when I look

out the window.

The car's still here,

but the guy ain't
nowhere in sight.

I don't see nobody swimming,
either.

So, I came down
to look at the car.

This, this note

was stuck
on the steering wheel.

It says he was going
to commit su1c1de.

*

Did it go okay, Jack?

Did anybody see you?

Where's the sauce?

Relax.

Relax, Austin.

It went off like a dream.

I even left a note
for my widow.

Here's health
to the late Jack Culross.

Let's get in the car.

Sketches.

Unfinished work.

Nothing, I'm afraid,
of any particular value.

What a shame.

Your husband had an amazing
potential, Mrs. Culross.

And an equally amazing talent
for letting it go to waste.

My sister tells me
that Jack's paintings

were beginning to sell,

at pretty respectable
prices, too.

Yes, thanks
to Vincent Kenyon

and the newspaper articles
he did on Jack's work.

If Jack had only
applied himself to painting

with the same passion
he had for high living--

just a couple of months
of intensive work.

Look, sketches
that never grew up.

Really fine oils started--
never finished.

Mr. Durrant, as I told you
on the phone,

I'm closing up the cottage here
and moving to my place

in Panama permanently.

Now, you handled
my husband's work.

You called to say
that you were interested

in purchasing whatever
might be left in the studio.

Do you see anything
that you want?

Jack's Three Witches canvas.

He told me when he
started it a year ago,

it would be his most
important work.

Look at it.

Waste, unforgivable waste.

When do you plan to move out
of the country, Mrs. Culross?

By the end of the week.

I'm sure you must be
hard-pressed for cash.

None of this stuff
has more than curiosity value.

If it would help, Mrs. Culross,
I'll give you $ ,

for the contents of the studio,
as is.

As I understand it,

all of the tangibles
are already in your name.

If you'll give me a title
to the pictures here,

there would be no need of
administrative proceedings.

You wouldn't have to bother
with probating the estate.

How soon can you
clear out the studio?

I'll put the seats down
in my station wagon

and, of course, send
you a check after lunch.

I...
Thank you, Mr. Durrant.

Yes.

He was sick.

Jack Culross
was a sick man.

Somewhere I failed him, Clint.

I wish I knew how or why.

Beautiful.

It's brilliant.

Oh, shut up, little man.

Oh, I was only admiring.

Your admiration revolts me.

Art dealers are
percentage parasites

fattening off
other men's talent.

How'd it go with my widow?

She sold.

And she'll be
on her way to Panama

and out of our way
by the end of the week.

Now that you're...
you're dead,

your work will
triple in value.

Couple of months, we can exhibit
and clean up a fortune.

If you could just
paint a little faster.

Don't push too far, little man.

Oh, Dr. Kenyon,
you were so right.

Everything you said
in your column was the truth.

Culross is so, so chic.

I've already bought his
Moodscape and Tenement Shadows.

Can you suggest a third?

You see, the wall will hold
three if the frames are small.

Well, I think his
Perspective in Black

might be just the thing.

Over there, before
anyone else gets it.

Oh, yes. Thank you.
Thank you, Dr. Kenyon.

Mr. Durrant.

Well, Austin,
this must be

a proud and
profitable moment.

That it is, Vincent--
very profitable.

Better than percent sellout,
isn't it, Miss Burnside?

Yes.

Look at them.

You'd think we were
discounting Rembrandts

in the bargain basement.

What is it, Mr. Durrant?

Excuse me.

Mrs. Culross, Mr. Miller,
I, uh...

I thought you were in Panama.

Well, how, how delightful
you could make the showing.

This particular painting

marked "sold" with a, uh,
$ , price tag on it...

Since the last time
we saw you,

talent must've risen in price.

Uh, there's some
champagne over there,

and, uh, and,
uh, Dr. Kenyon.

All the more amazing,

since the last time we saw that
painting, it was unfinished.

(sighs)

Um, please, please,
Mrs. Culross!

If you'll-- oh, fine.

Mrs. Cul...

There's no question
of it, Mr. Mason,

at least half of that
picture was painted

afterJack k*lled himself.

It's a blatant forgery.

I knew it when
I saw the photo

of the painting
in the Panama paper.

I came back to find out
and now I'm sure.

What explanation did
Durrant offer

for the painting
being completed?

Well, he's called Edna
a couple of times,

but she won't talk to him.

She insisted on bringing
the matter directly to you.

Mr. Mason, I don't know anything
about this art business.

I just took my sister

to Panama to help her
get set and then,

all this happens.

Well, the quicker you clear
this up, the happier I'll be.

What about the other paintings
hanging in the gallery?

I just don't know, Mr. Mason.

Jack painted
in fits and starts.

He never liked
to be watched.

So, you really don't know

which of the paintings
were genuine and which

were forgeries.
No.

But there's no question
about The Three Witches.

It's a forgery.

I want this fraudulent sale
stopped, Mr. Mason.

Now.

When you called,
my associate,

Mr. Gideon, had an idea
as regards to Three Witches.

Mrs. Culross, was there
much depth of texture

to your husband's paintings?

Well, uh, thickness of paint--

is that what you mean
by "depth of texture"?

Yes.
Yes, there was
considerable thickness.

All right.

Thank you, Mrs. Culross.

We'll, uh,
look into the matter.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.

As soon as we find
something, we'll call you.

DELLA:
All right, now,
the Atomic Age

hasn't changed the curriculum
of law school that much.

Or have you been sneaking in
a special course

on six ways to forge
a Rembrandt?

Neither--
pre-law college physics.

I'm talking about
a thermocouple, of course.

Of course.

Perry, I, uh, suppose
you understand what he means?

Of course.

A thermocouple is a delicate
heat-measuring device.

(chuckles)

That explains everything.

A divining rod to locate
hot paintings.

No, Della, no.
You see, the older paint gets,

the drier it becomes.

The drier it becomes,
the more heat it reflects.

Now, by measuring heat

from different parts
of the painting's surface,

we can determine
for sure and legally

if somebody else
finished the painting

of The Three Witches
after Culross died.

You got it?

Got it.

How soon can you, uh,

locate a thermocouple, David?

Inside half an hour,
Mr. Mason.

Good. Let's go.

Durrant!

Hey, what are you doing?
Stop! Stop!

Stop him! Oh, never mind.

You'll never find him
in those crowds.

Should I call
the police, Mr. Durrant?

Yes, please do,
right away.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

I'd better call
the insurance people.

Yes, yes!
Miss Burnside,
please call the...

Call the police right away.

Uh, I'll be right
with you gentlemen.

What was that all about?

Obviously, some sort of a crank.

Just look around, gentlemen.

Take your time.

The, uh, "sold" pictures
are marked.

Uh, Mr. Durrant,

I'm attorney
for Mrs. Edna Culross.

My name is Mason.

Then... then this
is a professional visit.

Could be.

I'm interested in buying
a certain painting.

That is, if you can certify
as to its authenticity.

I'd be glad to.

Do you still have
the painting called

The Three Witches by Culross?

That sold and delivered,
I'm afraid.

A Dr. Vincent Kenyon bought her
for the Hessler collection.

But I'd be most
happy to sell

and authenticate
any picture you see.

If you're interested
only in The Three Witches,

you'll have to talk
to Dr. Kenyon at the museum.

I tell you, Jack,
the man was insane.

He ripped into that canvas
as if it were human.

To him, maybe it was.

Uh, tall, thin features,
shabby clothes?

You know him then?
You've seen him before?

When's the exhibition
closing?

Friday.

First, my wife comes back,

then this lawyer shows,
and now...

Close it tonight.

Cash out my share.

All of that cash
for tonight?

Oh, I can't, Jack.

I have to be in
San Diego tonight.

Durrant, do what I tell you.

GIDEON:
I like it.

But I'm afraid I don't
know very much about art.

Good art is like music.

It should be enjoyed,
not dissected.

(chuckling)

An excellent sentiment,
Mr. Mason,

but a bit basic, perhaps.

You wanted to see me?

I'm Vincent Kenyon.

Oh, Dr. Kenyon.

I'm interested in a painting
called The Three Witches.

I was told
you'd bought it.

Yes, you... you passed it
as you came in.

It's the best
of the Culross collection.

It has been
suggested

that the painting
was completed

by another artist
after Culross' death.

Are you
Mrs. Culross' attorney?

(chuckles)

A very emotional woman,
Mr. Mason.

Totally ignorant of art.

This canvas is genuine,

from first
stroke to last.

You seem to be an expert
on Culross, Dr. Kenyon.

Oh, I should be.

I was the first
to recognize his talent.

You'd have no objection
to our verifying

your observation
scientifically?

Well, inexpert handling
of a valuable canvas

is really quite
out of the question.

That's reasonable,
Doctor.

But we will in no way
touch the painting.

Ah.

Well, very well.

Well, Mr. Mason,
are you satisfied?

Completely.

My thanks for
your cooperation.

Well, if you'd accepted
my opinion,

you could have
saved yourself trouble.

Anyone, even with the remotest
familiarity with Culross' work,

would never begin to doubt
the authenticity of this canvas.

Obviously, you
are wasting your time.

You could be right,
Dr. Kenyon.

Good day.
Good day, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Mason?

According to our Mr. Expert
inside, there's no question

that the canvas was
a genuine Culross.

I suppose the thermocouple
confirmed that.

No. It confirmed
that at least a third of it

was painted six days
after Culross died.

Feeling any better,
Mr. Durrant?

Oh, yes, thanks.
Good.

Where's the package?

I don't have it.
You what?

The man at the bank said it
wouldn't be ready until : .
: ?

That's impossible. I have to be
in San Diego at : .

It's absolutely imperative.

I should've left
half an hour ago.

I know and I told him that,

and he still said
it wouldn't be ready

until : .
Of all the stupid...!

So, I finally told him that
I'd pick it up for you then.

No, no, I don't want you
making the trip

out here to the beach again.

That won't be
necessary, Mr. Durrant.

I can put the package
on your desk at the gallery

and then you can pick it up

on your way back
from San Diego, can't you?

Yes, I suppose you...

Well, actually,
there's no need for you

to go back to the gallery,
either, Miss Burnside.

Oh, well, I have
to do that anyway.

Oh, Mr. Durrant,
I just love your view.

You know, Mrs. Ronker called
from Pasadena about the figurine

that she ordered.
She wants it tonight
instead of tomorrow.

Well, now, I'll pick up
the package at the bank,

put it on your desk
at the gallery,

pick up the figurine and bring
it out to Pasadena.

Will there be anything
else, Mr. Durrant?

Well, I... No,
that'll be fine, Linda.

And thank you,
very much.

Well, good luck
in San Diego.

Yes.

Thank you.

My secretary is
very reliable.

And, of course,
she doesn't know

that your share of the
money is in that package.

You see, the bank...
I heard.

The office is much
closer than the bank.

I'll get your share
of the money

and bring it back to you
here before I leave.

What's waiting
for you in San Diego?

Bankruptcy sale, I, uh...

Well, I have a, sort of
a private arrangement

with a receiver
on a few art pieces.

There are buyers waiting
and I could...

Bribe? Chisel?
Misrepresent? Steal?

Anything to turn
an honest profit.

Isn't that right, little man?

Now, listen, Jack.

If you don't...

All right,
all right, Austin.

Don't feed your ulcers.

I won't keep you.

I'll stop in at your office
on my way

into town and pick up
the money myself.

Oh, uh, uh, give me a key
to the gallery back door.

Take it easy, Jack.

They won't let you on
the plane if you're drunk.

I'm not going by plane.
I'm driving.

What?

Or rather, my, uh,
my widow will be driving.

Edna?

Edna, this is
your dead husband, Jack.

(laughing)

*

Jack?

Jack, are you here?

(Jack laughing)

Oh, Jack, stop playing games.

Welcome home to the
prodigal husband, lover.

(exclaims)
Oh.

You're early.

I didn't expect you
for a half hour yet.

Are you alone?

Yes, I'm alone.
Good.

Oh, you look cute in black.

Cute and sexy.

Is that all you
can say, Jack,

after weeks of letting
me think you were dead?

Is that all you can say?

But why?
Why did you do this?

Money. What else?

And the chance for the two
of us to start all over again.

You'd like that,
wouldn't you, Edna?

Then... the su1c1de was just
another one of your tricks?

Hmm, a profitable one, lover--

an $ , profit.

Tax free.

Aw, look, you need a drink.

No.

I just need to be rid of
the sight and sound of you.

You know, I was confused
and upset when you called.

But I'm not
confused anymore.

Start all over again
with you, Jack? Never.

I'd rather die first.

Edna.

Look, I know our
marriage went sour.

But it's not the end
of the world.

We can still make it.

Uh, a new start, a new home.

Your place in Panama maybe.

Panama?

Edna, please come with me.

Tonight. Now.

Oh, yes.

You're a fugitive
now, aren't you?

A fugitive looking
for a place to hide.

And I have a place--

a big, expensive
place in Panama.

No, Jack.

You've fooled and tricked
me for the last time.

Where are you going?

To the police.

To see that you get exactly

what's coming to you.
Edna, listen!

Get out.

Out!

Either you go with me,

or you sign the place
over to me.

Don't you understand?

I've got to have
a place to go to.

(g*n clatters)

No. No.

Don't be a fool.

Couldn't have been badly hurt,
Mr. Mason.

All I could think of was
getting away from him.

I ran out into the street

and kept running.

You didn't return
for your purse?

No, I, I just kept going
until I found a cab.

You say he'd been
drinking, huh?

Yes.

Oh, Mr. Mason, it was such
a shock finding him alive.

And the fight...

I mean... what if
he was badly hurt?

In a way, I'm still
responsible.

He's... he's really sick.

You know, I have
a hunch that somewhere

we'll find a drunken painter
with a very sore head.

Now, you stay with Della,
Mrs. Culross.

We'll try and locate
your husband.

Della, we'll be
back in an hour.

All right.

Well, drive miles,

trade a steak for a hamburger
and not even a drunk.

Looks like he
left in her car.

Let's get back
to Los Angeles.

Your client's purse, Mr. Mason.

DRAKE:
Perry?

Small caliber
and, uh, recently fired.

All right, Paul,
see if you can locate

someone to find
that car of hers.

(siren wailing)

May I see your driver's
license, please?

Okay, thanks.

Perry, your client's
car was picked up

for speeding
just past Malibu.

Who was driving it?

Clint Miller,
your client's brother.

And, Perry,

he's being held
on suspicion of m*rder.

m*rder?

Well, they found Jack Culross
in the back of the car.

Dead.

Mr. Mason...

Mr. Miller, I'm here
as your sister's attorney.

I want to help her.

Help Edna?

Well, they've arrested me.

You were driving her car.

I borrowed the car.

Edna had nothing to do with it.

Mr. Miller, don't
underestimate the police.

Durrant's secretary,
Linda Burnside,

was picked up in Pasadena.

She was at the gallery
tonight.

Delivering
some package.

So?

So, when the police locate
Durrant in San Diego,

they'll know what was
in that package

and its connection with the
woman who entered the gallery

to meet Jack Culross.

Woman?

The police have a witness
who saw a woman there

at about the time
Culross must've been k*lled.

Your sister Edna.

Now, that's impossible.

I told you that Edna had
nothing to do with it.

So far you've told me nothing
but lies.

Oh, yes, you were
driving Edna's car.

The car she left
in the parking lot

after her visit
with Culross.

Well, how do you know...

Edna came to my office.

I know she was in the gallery
tonight.

Now, if that witness sees her,
he'll identify her.

Your sister's in trouble,
Mr. Miller, serious trouble.

If you really want to help her,
you must tell me the truth.

Well, I took a cab
to the gallery,

and went around to the back
door off the parking lot.

Go on.

I saw her car
and Culross.

Well, I was panicky.

I didn't know
how badly hurt he was.

First I shoved him in the car,

figuring I'd take him
to a doctor afterwards.

Then I realized
he was already dead.

So then you tried to cover?

You were going to get rid
of the body?

No.

But I didn't think
it should be found

until I knew what Edna had done.

I guess I didn't really know
what to do.

I just... just kept on driving,
scared mostly.

Mr. Miller,

why did you go
to the gallery?

Well, when I came home
late last night,

there was a-- there was
a note from Edna,

telling me that Culross
had called her.

He was alive and she was
meeting him at the gallery.

Do you have that note?

Why... no.

As far as the police
are concerned,

that note would be as good as a
confession of m*rder from Edna.

They have
a search warrant.

They're on their way now

to search the place
you shared with your sister.

Now, think carefully.

Did you destroy that note?

Why...?

No.

No, I left it right
there on the table.

But I didn't fire the g*n,
Mr. Mason.

Believe me, I didn't
even touch it.

Edna...

...when your husband
phoned you,

why didn't you contact
either the police or myself?

I-I was confused and frightened.

(sighs)

I just didn't think, that's all.

Now, you ran from the gallery
and got into your car.

Yes.

You were trying to start the car

when your husband
jerked open the door.

When you bit him, he dropped
the g*n from his hand.

Now, tell me,
why didn't you sh**t him?

You make a very good
prosecutor, Mr. Mason,

but I need a lawyer
who can help me,

one who believes I'm not lying.

That may be hard to
find, Mrs. Culross.

You see, we located the note
you wrote your brother.

I'm Lieutenant
Anderson, Homicide.

You're under arrest
for the m*rder of Jack Culross.

Too bad she couldn't
convince you, Mr. Mason.

She'll need
a good lawyer.

But you're wrong, Lieutenant.

I'm more than convinced.

I'm certain
she's not guilty.

Sure you have
the right place?

(grunts)

Walter Hutchings,
apartment .

Well, let's go, David.

We can come back later.

Yeah.

That's the same guy
who slashed the painting

in Durrant's gallery when
Mr. Mason and I were there.

Are you sure?
Yes.

Walter Hutchings?

(grunts)

I'd like
to talk to you.

I understand
you're the witness...

Look, I've told you people
everything I know.

I was outside the gallery.

I saw the woman drive up,

pull into the alley
into the parking lot.

There's nothing more I know,
nothing more I can tell you.

What were you doing
at the gallery?

I thought it might be open.

I wanted to see the exhibit.

A friend of Culross?

Friend?

Like a rattlesnake
is your friend.

Well, feeling that way,
you mean you just wanted to see

the paintings?

You're not from the police?

Private detective,

but I happen to know
that you're the man

who slashed the painting
the afternoon

of the m*rder.
Now, go away.

Go away, I've got nothing more
to tell you or anybody else.

There's no question
of it, Mr. Mason.

The witness who saw
Edna Culross drive up

to the gallery
is the same man

we saw destroying
a Culross painting.

I got more than his name and
address from my police contact.

Walter Hutchings is on parole

from the Huntsville Penitentiary
in Texas.

Della, would you come in,
please?

Did you get a rundown
on Hutchings' record, Paul?

Yep, he was curator
of the university art gallery

in Dallas until he was sent up.

(door opens and closes)
Sent up for what?

Five-year term for art bunco.

Uh, no need
for notes, Della.

Just get me a seat
on the next flight...

Uh, Mr. Mason, could...?

Get me two seats
on the next flight for Dallas,

and have a rental car meet us
at the airport.

There's something else I want
you to investigate, Paul.

All right, what is it?
(door opens)

Do you remember that package
the secretary delivered

(door closes)
to Durrant's place
on the night of the m*rder?

Well, Durrant says
that there was

$ , in it
for Culross--

his share of the swindle--

but there was no money found
on Culross' body.

Hutchings never should have been
sent to jail, Mr. Mason.

An error in judgment, yes,

but there never was
any criminal intent.

Where was the
error, Dr. Shelby?

He bought a Matisse,
which turned out to be a fake--

and a brilliant fake.

I think it would have fooled
most anybody.

Bought it from a young fellow
named Peters,

and like a fool, he paid cash

before it was
authenticated.

And?

When they found it
to be a phony,

they started looking
for young Peters,

but he had skipped,
leaving Wally holding the bag.

Do you recognize
that face?

Yes, it's
Peters.

If you still have the fake
painting, may we see it?

Yes, of course.

It's the, uh,
Blue Waters.

The original used to be part
of the Rob Wade collection.

We saw this painting
in Los Angeles.

No, David, we saw
its twin in Los Angeles.

You're right, it's a
dead ringer, Mr. Mason.

Which one do you
think is the fake?

That's something we have
to find out, David.

The answer could be
a motive for m*rder.

You've heard it testified,
Lieutenant,

that death was caused
by a massive hemorrhage

as the result
of multiple b*llet wounds,

which caused a rupture
of the aorta,

the spleen,
and the liver.

There were two small
caliber b*ll*ts recovered

from the body.

They were marked
for identification.

I ask you
if these are the b*ll*ts.

Yes, sir.

People's exhibit one,
if it please the court.

Now, Lieutenant Anderson,
I show you this note

and ask
if you can identify it.

Yes, sir, this is a note signed
by the defendant

and addressed to her brother.

And where was the note found?

We found the note
in Clint Miller's apartment.

BURGER:
Thank you, Lieutenant.

Your name is
Clint Robert Miller?

Yes.

You are the brother
of the defendant?

Yes.

And you reside
with your sister?

Yes.

BURGER:
Mr. Miller,

when you returned home
on the evening of June ,

did you find a note
from your sister

which caused you to go
to the Durrant Art Galleries?

I must respectfully decline
to answer that question

on the ground that such answer
would tend to incriminate me.

Really?

Your Honor, the state,
having foreseen

that this witness might invoke
the Fifth Amendment

for fear
of being named

an accessory
in this m*rder...

A petition for a
waiver of immunity

under section
of the penal code

was made in superior
court and granted.

At this time,

I should like it entered
in the record.

Let it be entered.

Mr. Miller,
by order of the waiver,

you have been granted
immunity of prosecution

in the event your testimony
may incriminate you.

You will therefore answer
all questions

or be held in contempt.

Now, Mr. Miller,
on the night of June ,

when you arrived home,

did you find a note
from your sister?

Yes.

And is this the note?

Yes.

Mr. Hutchings, in addition
to your visit there

on the afternoon of June ,

on which occasion
you destroyed property,

for which action
you still face charges,

were you,
on the evening of June ,

in the vicinity
of the Durrant Art Galleries?

I was.

At approximately : p.m.?

Yes.

Did you see an automobile
driven by a woman drive

onto the gallery parking lot?

Yes.

And is the woman
who was driving that automobile

in this courtroom today?

She is.

It's the defendant
Mrs. Culross.

Mr. Durrant never said
what was in the package...

just that it was valuable
and that he needed it.

So, not knowing
that you were carrying

$ , in used bills
in that package,

you went from the bank
to the Durrant Gallery

and left the package
on Durrant's desk.

Now, what else did you
do and whom did you see

while you were at the
gallery, Miss Burnside?

I didn't see anyone
while I was there.

Now, Miss Burnside,
the defendant apparently arrived

at the gallery at a time
very close to the one

set by the coroner's office
as the time of death.

That's approximately : .

What time was it when
you left the gallery?

BURNSIDE:
: , certainly no
later than : .

So, although the police reported

that they found no money
on the decedent's body,

in the defendant's car, or
on the person of the brother

of the defendant, or
anywhere in the gallery,

you can testify
that the money was there

when the defendant
and the m*rder*d man met.

Objection, Your Honor.

The question calls
for a conclusion

on the part of the witness.

I'll withdraw the question,
Your Honor.

No further questions.

Thank you.

Your witness.

Miss Burnside, to date the money
in question has not been found.

It was not found in
the possession of the defendant.

Now, are you asking this court
to believe

that you casually placed $ ,
in cash on Mr. Durrant's desk,

then just left the gallery

without concern
for the safety of that money?

No, sir.

I put a package
on the desk.

I didn't know there
was money in it.

Oh, come now, Miss Burnside.

You were Durrant's
confidential secretary.

Didn't you open the package
to see what it contained?

No, Mr. Mason, I did not.

Your Honor, I object

to Mr. Mason badgering
this witness.

When the police located
Miss Burnside in Pasadena,

she was searched
as a matter of routine

before she was questioned.

And may I remind
Mr. Mason

that in the statement made

by the defendant herself
to the police,

she admitted that her husband
had that money

in his possession
when she arrived.

I'm sure he intended
to leave the country by plane.

Sure, Mr. Durrant?

Well, I offered to get
his ticket for him.

He told me
not to bother.

His ticket and some
sort of phony passport

were taken care of.

Then, what made you think
that he'd changed his mind

about flying out of the country?

Culross told me.

He said he wasn't going to fly,
he was going by car,

and that his wife was going
to drive him.

BURGER:
His wife was going
to drive him?

Mr. Durrant, did you have
any reason to believe

that the decedent's wife knew
he had not committed su1c1de?

I don't know for sure.

I only know I heard him call her

and arrange to meet her
in the gallery at : .

No further questions.

Your witness.

Did the decedent say
that he had personally arranged

for his, uh, plane ticket
and passport?

No, no. He said it
was taken care of.

I'm sure of that.

Now, aside from Culross' share
of the proceeds

of your joint conspiracy
to defraud--

aside from that $ , --

was there anything else
missing from your gallery?

Missing?

No, just the coffin figurine
Miss Burnside delivered.

Then, why,
on the day following the m*rder,

did you inventory
the contents of your gallery?

Oh, that.

Well, uh,

Culross and his wife must have
had a dilly of a fight.

There were even some tapestries
knocked off the walls.

These, uh, tapestries

that were knocked
from the walls--

they were scattered around

on the floor
where they'd fallen?

No.

Matter of fact, no.

The tapestries
were sort of folded

and stacked as if...

As if someone planned
to take them? Steal them?

Then either changed his mind,
or was

k*lled?

If you're trying
to say that I...

I'm not trying
to say a thing, Mr. Durrant.

Are you?

As curator
of the Hessler Museum, then,

you bought a number of paintings
at this exhibition?

Yes, Mr. Burger, I did.

Dr. Kenyon, could you explain
to this court exactly how

the death of an artist
can relate to the sale

of his work?

In an artist
of Culross' caliber,

it's the inevitable law
of supply and demand.

When the source
of the supply is dead,

prices rise,
if the paintings have merit.

Then, in effect, Dr. Kenyon,
you were the victim of a fraud.

A fraud perpetrated by Durrant,

the art dealer, by
the artist himself,

and by anyone else who knew
that Culross was alive, or who

participated in setting up
his mock su1c1de,

or his posthumous

exhibition.

Unfortunately, I was the victim
of just such a fraud.

BURGER:
Thank you,
Dr. Kenyon.

That'll be all.

Your witness.

Uh, in view of the
hour, Mr. Mason,

might I suggest reserving
your examination until tomorrow?

Of course,
Your Honor.

Then court will adjourn
until :

tomorrow morning.

That cable arrived from
London about an hour ago.

So, Kenyon's Blue Waters is
another Culross forgery.

Do you think
he knows?

I'm sure of it.

Then for Pete's sake,

why did Dr. Kenyon
promote Culross?

The payoff for blackmail
isn't always money, David.

The thing I can't
figure out, Perry,

is not just who k*lled Culross.

But where on earth did
the k*ller hide the $ , ?

The k*ller must have
seen Edna running away.

There was a chance the police
would arrive any moment.

And possession
of that money

would have been a
confession of m*rder.

You know, I have a
pretty good hunch

where that money
was hidden.

Della, see if you can
reach one of the judges

of the Ninth Federal
Circuit Court right away.

I must see him tonight.

Dr. Kenyon, you are
an expert on fine arts?

It has been said so.

Uh, when you purchased
the painting

titled Three Witches
for the Hessler collection,

it was in the belief
that Jack Culross was dead?

Yes.

As you previously stated,

you were the unwitting victim
of a fraud.

Well, obviously.

MASON:
As you were when you
bought a forged Matisse

from Culross?

Your Honor, we protest.

The witness will answer
the question.

Well, I...

Dr. Kenyon,

did you not buy
from Jack Culross

an alleged Matisse
called Blue Waters?

Yes, I did.

Are you aware
that the genuine Blue Waters

is in a private collection
in London?

KENYON:
But I found
that out later.

Your Honor, we protest
this irrelevant attempt

to degrade a witness
for the state.

Since this is related

to the probity
of an expert witness,

I find it most relevant
and illuminating.

Continue, Mr. Mason.

Was Culross blackmailing you

in order to promote his career,
Dr. Kenyon?

I won't answer.

I won't.

Very well.

If granted latitude,
Your Honor,

we will prove the
identity of the m*rder*r.

I should like to recall Miss
Linda Burnside to the stand.

Uh, Miss Burnside,

as secretary-bookkeeper
for the Durrant Galleries,

you know Dr. Kenyon?

Certainly. He's one
of our best customers.

At the last Culross exhibition,

did Dr. Kenyon bring other
art collectors to the preview?

Well, he gave me a list
of possible buyers

to be sent
preview invitations.

MASON:
In short, he helped to
promote that showing.

Very much so.

Now, this is important.

As long as you have worked
for Mr. Durrant,

can you remember
any other artist

who received the help
Dr. Kenyon gave

Jack Culross?

No, I can't remember any.

Miss Burnside,

there's a specific pattern
to this case.

One I should like the court
to consider.

Now, I wonder if you would
help me present that pattern.

If I can, Mr. Mason, certainly.

The m*rder*r knew

that Culross hadn't
committed su1c1de.

Knew of the money
Culross was to receive.

k*lled Culross for that money.

Now, Mr. Durrant knew this.

The prosecution claims

that the defendant
and possibly her
brother knew it.

Now, let us assume
for the moment,

Miss Burnside, that
someone else also knew it.

Your Honor, I object.

Mr. Mason is using these tactics

in an obvious
and uncalled for attempt

to implicate and vilify
a distinguished citizen.

Would the court please
remind Mr. Mason

that Dr. Kenyon is not
the defendant in this case?

Mr. Burger, I did not mention
Dr. Kenyon's name.

Well, you said that...

MASON:
I said, let's assume
someone else knew.

If, because of Dr. Kenyon's
relationship to the decedent,

you assume the good doctor
was implicated,

then, it's you the
court should admonish.

I think your objection

is technically well-taken,
Mr. Prosecutor,

but I'm going to overrule it,

because the court
is very much interested

in Mr. Mason's line
of reasoning.

And in view of the facts
which have been established,

the court would like

to have Mr. Mason follow this
line of reasoning to the end.

Continue, Mr. Mason.

Very well, Your Honor.

Jack Culross was greedy.

Greedy enough

to double-cross Durrant
and rob him before he left.

Now, Durrant testified
that a number of tapestries

had been taken off the walls
the night of the m*rder.

Think carefully.

When you delivered the package
to the gallery,

were the tapestries down,
or were they still hanging?

No, they were hanging.

I would have noticed
if there was anything different.

The next day, you helped Durrant
with his inventory.

What would you say
those tapestries were worth?

Well, between $ , and $ , .

It is possible
to mail tapestries

out of the country,
isn't it, Miss Burnside?

Yes, of course.

Now, it's very likely
that Culross,

in robbing Durrant,
had an accomplice.

The accomplice
was to take

the stolen tapestries
and mail them--

uh, let us say--

to Jack Culross
in Mexico City.

On the night
of the m*rder,

the accomplice was perhaps
just leaving the gallery

with those tapestries
when the defendant arrived

earlier than expected
to meet her husband.

Miss Burnside,

would there
have been someplace

where the accomplice
might have quickly hidden

in order to eavesdrop

on the meeting
between Culross and his wife?

Well, I...
I suppose one could hide

in the storage room
behind the office.

The accomplice would then
have overheard

that Culross meant to
double-cross not only Durrant,

but also the
accomplice.

So, when the defendant ran
away from her husband

in the parking lot,
the accomplice

just picked up the g*n
and shot him,

becoming not only a thief,
but a m*rder*r.

Miss Burnside,

when the police located you
in Pasadena,

you were searched,
were you not?

Yes, I was searched.

They searched me.

They searched my apartment.

They searched my car.

Everybody was searched.

The k*ller, anticipating that,

just tossed the tapestries
back into the gallery.

But that $ , --
where to hide that safely

and for possibly
a long period of time?

Uh, tell me, Miss Burnside--

were there
mailing containers

and stamps
in the gallery office?

Yes.

Where was the nearest mailbox?

Well, there's...

there's one
right outside the building.

Your Honor,
as you know, it is illegal

to use the mails
to secrete stolen monies.

Last night, I put this matter
before Federal Judge Noyman

of the United States
District Court.

Uh, Southern District
of California, Federal Division.

Did he issue a court order,
Mr. Mason?

Uh, yes, Your Honor.

Uh, to the office
of the postal inspector,

directing that
a search be made

in Los Angeles
general delivery

for a small package postmarked
the night of the m*rder

and addressed to one of the
principals in this case.

And was the package
with the money found?

Well, as Your Honor
also knows,

the federal mails
are inviolate.

But, uh...

Judge Noyman
further ordered

that if such a
package were found,

delivery was to be effected
so that the package

could be subpoenaed
as evidence by this court,

to be opened
only in the presence

of the postal inspector.

Now, Your Honor, this is
Deputy Postal Inspector Johnson.

Inspector Johnson
has such a package.

If it contains
the $ , ,

then the name
on the package

could only be that
of one person.

The name on the package
is the name of the m*rder*r.

All right, Inspector Johnson.

You may proceed.

Linda Burnside.

I don't want it.

It's just that he
didn't need me.

I don't want it!

(sobbing)

Linda Burnside was in love
with your husband.

They planned the fake su1c1de

and the posthumous sale
of his paintings

so they could
run away together.

What really tipped it all,
in addition to the money,

was the fact
that she had purchased

two plane tickets
for Mexico City.

Well, one thing
about this case--

sure has affected
a lot of people.

Linda Burnside's been
indicted for m*rder,

and Durrant's in jail.

Dr. Kenyon is no longer curator
at the museum.

As a matter of fact,
I guess I'm lucky

I'm not in jail
for moving the body.

I'm afraid
I actually thought

for a moment
you had k*lled him.

Everybody did,
except Mr. Mason.

I brought you one
of Jack's paintings

as a sort
of memento.

I can't thank
you enough

for what you
did, Mr. Mason.

Say, Mr. Mason,

uh, what about the people
who were defrauded

when they bought
all those paintings?

Oh, I don't imagine
there should be any trouble.

The paintings were genuine.

How ironic.

They should be more valuable
now that he's gone.

Thank you, Edna.

(theme music plays)