02x21 - The Case of the Lost Last Act

[bunniefuu]

( dramatic theme playing )

( noirish jazz theme playing )

"Steve says,
'I know my people.

"'I know the two faces
of them.

"'The faces they wear
for the public,

"and the secret faces
they show only to each other.'

"Gilbert says,
'Perhaps. We'll see.

"When do I get
the last act?'

"And Steve says,
'I'm starting it

"'as soon
as you leave.

( chuckling ):
"If I live to finish it.'

"Steve opens the door
for them, and they exit.

"Steve grins,
sits at his desk,

"switches on the Dictaphone
and begins to dictate.

"Third act.

"It's a few minutes
after midnight

"as the curtain rises,

"but Steve gets no further.

"There's the sound
of a shot,

and Steve slumps over
his typewriter, dead."

Curtain falls
on the second act.

Any comments?

Not even from
our producer?

Mr. Gifford?

I'll reserve
my comment

until I've heard
the last act.

I think you'll
find it exciting.

If this is someone's
idea of a joke,

I don't appreciate it.
What's happened?

The last act. Someone
took it out of the script

and replaced it
with blank pages.

Well, perhaps when
they were assembled--

I assembled
them myself.

( mysterious theme playing )

( sighs )

( mysterious theme playing )

It's gone. Even from
the file copy in my desk.

Saves us the trouble
of listening to it.

You didn't like the first
two acts, Mr. West?

No. None of it.

And you, Helen?

Well, it
disturbs me, Ernest.

I feel there's something
very wrong with it.

It's not fair
to judge a play

by two acts,
but--

Yes?

( sighs )
Well...frankly,

I didn't like
what I heard.

Why not?

The characters
are confused.

The...motivations
are obscure.

Anything else, John?

There's no kindness,
no understanding.

Nothing but
a sort of...

snarling viciousness

that I find
most distasteful.

If you ask me--
I have already asked you.

HELEN:
John's right.

If you'd look at
your characters

with love instead
of hate, Ernest.

Especially the character
you'll play?

I'm sure
you can change it.

Why are you doing
this thing?

It's not your kind
of play.

( scoffs )

A Gifford production means
something to the public.

There's a guarantee
of a great, new play.

An exciting eve--

Stop being
a press agent, Jim.

And you...the great star,
Helen Dwight,

crawling down from
a sky full of fine parts

to wallow in
this muddy melodrama.

Why you doing it?

I always do what
my producer tells me to.

Especially when he also
happens to be my husband.

You're her brother.
Show some gumption

for once in your life.
Talk to her.

Oh, I think
you're getting

all excited
about nothing, Jim.

Oh, I didn't think
it was that bad.

When Ernest rewrites it
the way John wants--

There will not be
any rewriting.

Why, Ernest? Why
be so arbitrary?

You've made
mistakes before.

Because I didn't know
what I was writing about.

But this time I do.

I'm telling a story about
real, living people.

People that
I know.

For the first time
as a writer,

I'm telling
the truth.

Then all the more reason
for rewriting.

Why condemn these
unfortunate people

without a fair
trial?

Why call them criminals
without trying to understand

what made them
commit a crime?

What good is it
to hurt people?

My play is more important
than the people.

Oh. This kind
of argument

isn't going to
get us anywhere.

I suggest we all go home
and think about it.

Calmly. We can get
together later on tonight.

I'll be too busy.
( sighs angrily )

With nothing more
important than this.

Have you forgotten?
The last act is missing.

You're gonna write it again?
Well, of course.

Whoever took it
wasn't very bright.

I wrote it once.
I can write it again.

The revisions
I want may change

your last act
completely.

I told you, there
will be no changes.

I won't
produce it.

I think
you will.

I think you'll
see it my way.

I'm sure
you will.

Now, here are
the first two acts.

I'll have the third act
for you

by the end of
the week.

Good afternoon.

( opens door )

( door
closes )

( doorbell rings )

It's Frank.

( snaps fingers )

( doorbell rings )

( jazzy theme playing )

ROYCE:
In response to your offer--

Well, Frank. I didn't
hear you come in.

I rang the bell.
Nobody answered.

Oh, I guess
I didn't hear it.

How did you
get in?

Door was unlocked.

That's funny.

( chuckles )

I, uh-- I've been
trying to catch up

on some of my unanswered
mail here.

It really
piles up.

Pretty busy, huh?
Well, you know how it is.

Just getting ready to
go into production.

It's a...

It's a real
strain.

Yeah.

I stopped by
to pick up Faith.

Faith? Well, she's gone.
She left with Gifford.

No, I saw them leave.

She wasn't with 'em.

Well, she walked out
with 'em.

You're lying, Ernie.

You shouldn't say things
like that, Frank.

It might get you
into trouble.

Well, I'll tell you, Ernie,
I don't want any trouble.

so I'll tell you
what I'm gonna do.

I'm gonna take my girl
and my money out of your show.

You can't do that.
It was a deal.

A bad deal.

You'll make a fortune.
I got a fortune.

And I got a girl too.
Now, look, Frank.

You're all wrong
about the girl.

She's a nice kid.

Well, anyway, I can't
return the money.

I-- It's out of
my hands.

I turned it all over to
John Gifford, the producer.

Get it back.

I can't.
Get it back!

Well, we'll have to talk to
John Gifford about it.

You do that. Now.
Now?

We'll have to wait
until morning.

I don't have to do
anything, Ernie.

I want that money back,
and I want it in cash.

Well, it's too late.
The banks are closed.

It's Friday.

The banks are open
until .

It's only now.

What is all the rush?
You don't need the money.

You ain't listening
to me, Ernie.

I said I'm taking my money
and my girl out of your show.

Well, all right. Take
the girl out if you want--

They come together.
They always did.

That's the way
it was agreed.

But there wasn't anything
in the agreement

about you
and my girl...

so I'm closing out
everything.

I'm coming back here
later tonight

for that money,
Ernie.

If you ain't
got it,

you ain't gonna get
another chance to get it.

( suspenseful theme playing )

( birds chirping )

( suspenseful theme playing )

( door closes )

Scared?

Go on, get out of here.
And get out of here fast.

Oh, there's nothing to
get excited about.

Are you crazy?
You were listening.

You heard what
he said.

Don't worry about him.

He'll do what
I tell him.

But will you?

What do you want?

Well, I'm--

I'm such a nasty person
in the play.

Rewrite my part
so I'll be more sympathetic.

You see, if I
did it for love--

Are you lecturing me
on the drama?

Where did you learn that?
At the actors' school?

You'll rewrite my part
the way I want it.

If you do, I'll get Frank
to change his mind.

If you don't,
you and your producer

will have to get another
sucker to back you.

Not at all, sweetie.

You make trouble for me,

and you'll have to get yourself
another sucker to back you.

Frank loves me. He'll stick
with me no matter what.

Not when I tell him
all about Faith

and the rest
of her kind.

He'd k*ll you.

Well, that could be.

But he'd probably
k*ll you first.

( ominous theme playing )

No answer.

Well, try again.

John, darling...

this play must not be
produced as it's written.

( dialing
phone )

I guess he meant
what he said.

If only he had
a little pity.

Pity.

He doesn't
answer.

( clicks on )

( romantic jazz music playing )

( knocking
on door )

Hi, Frank.
Hi, baby.

You look tired.
I am.

I'll fix you a drink.
Thanks.

This will make you
feel better.

I stopped by Royce's
to pick you up.

You should've called.
I would've waited.

I was outside when
the others came out.

You weren't
with 'em.

I'd...

just left
before they did.

Why?

Why, Faith?

Well...

I just don't
like to be

left alone
with Royce.

He giving you
a hard time?

I can handle him.

Well, that's my job,
isn't it?

You're wonderful,
Frank.

You'd do anything for me,
wouldn't you?

But if you weren't so new
to show business,

you'd know that
he's typical of

a certain kind
of wolf who...

howls at
all young actresses.

We learn very quickly

how to manage
his kind.

Well, I don't like it.

I'm taking you and my money
out of the show.

Well, don't be
silly, Frank.

Oh, we can always
find you a new play.

But I want this one.

Frank, a Gifford production.

Helen Dwight starring.

A beautiful part.

It's a wonderful
chance for me.

And that's what
we both want, isn't it?

I want you, Faith.

But you want me to be
happy too, don't you?

I got a lot to learn
about happiness.

( puts drink down )

Maybe you too.

Look, baby,

I know what it is
to want something so bad

you'll do anything to
get it. I've done it.

The hard way.

I'm just trying to figure
an easier way for you.

Where are you
going?

Oh, I got
some things to do.

You'll forget
about Royce.

Please, Frank.

Don't worry, sugar.

( tense theme playing )

( sighs )

Third act. It's a few
minutes after midnight.

As the curtain rises--
( g*nsh*t )

( dramatic theme playing )

"Defendant has
no information nor belief

on the subject
sufficient to enable him to--"

( intercom buzzes )
Yes, Gertie?

GERTIE:
Mr. Frank Brooks
to see Mr. Mason.

I don't recall an appointment
for a Mr. Brooks.

I know, but he said--

He has
$ , in cash

for the lawyer
that handles his case.

Interesting man.
Intriguing.

( buzzing )
See if you can find out--

Oh, wait a minute.

Gertie.
Yes, sir?

Show Mr. Brooks in,
will you, please?

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Gertie.

Mr. Brooks. Mr. Mason.

Mr. Brooks.
There's
the , .

Chair?

Thank you.

Do you mind
if we, uh...

talk alone?

Miss Street is
my confidential secretary.

I have no secrets from her,
nor do my clients.

Okay.
Please sit down.

Thanks.

Now...

how am I supposed to
earn that?

Well, making
a rough guess,

I would say
the cops

are gonna be
looking for me, uh,

at about, um,
: tonight.

Why?

To book me for the m*rder

of Ernest Royce,
the, uh, playwright.

Why you,
in particular?

Because my fingerprints
are all over his place.

Why should that
worry you?

Mr. Mason,
I got a record.

The cops are gonna tie
my prints in with that record.

Look, I was brought up
in the rackets.

I know all the tricks.

If I'd wanted to
k*ll Royce,

I wouldn't have left
any fingerprints behind.

That, uh...

honest money?

Honest? I worked for
every cent of that.

Doing what?

This.

The Brooks Drive-ins.

"Eat the best
from East to West."

There's one on
every major highway

in the United States.

Oh, you can, uh...

check that out.

I ain't ashamed of
that record.

All right.

Suppose you tell me what
you were doing at Royce's house.

I went there
to get my money back.

What money?

The grand I invested
in a play of his.

It was a stinker.

Didn't you know that before
you invested your money?

I never
read the play.
Hm.

Isn't that
unusual?

I wouldn't know.
I--

First time I ever got
mixed up in show business.

Well, who got you
into it?

Royce.

Said it was
gonna be a smash hit.

A gold mine.
Make nothing but money.

John Gifford was
gonna produce...

Helen Dwight
play the lead.

Oh, I talked it over
with my tax man.

He said...

if I lose it,
it's tax-deductible.

So I figured, well,
what can I lose?

Yet you suddenly
wanted your money back?

( closes lighter )

I don't like to be
taken, Mr. Mason.

And you decided Royce
was taking you?

That's right.

Did you and Royce
quarrel?

No.

No, why should we?

He said he'd
speak to Gifford

about getting
my money back.

I had a few drinks,
and then I left.

Where'd you go?

Home.

You're married?
No.

Girl?

No special girl, if that's
what you're thinking.

I'm only thinking what
the police will think.

Now, who were you with
last night?

Nobody.

No alibi.

Well, if what
you told me is true...

I see no reason
why you shouldn't be able

to give the same information
to the police.

Well, I would like
you on my side

when I start
talking to them.

I'm sure the police will find
lots of fingerprints

belonging to
all kinds of people.

Tying yours
to an old record

certainly isn't
enough evidence

to support
a m*rder charge.

Here.

You'd better
keep that.

Something
for your advice?

Not this time.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.

Goodbye,
Mr. Brooks.

Goodbye.

Mr. Mason.

Try one of my hamburgers
sometime.

They're the greatest.

( door
closes )

( mysterious theme playing )

( knocking )

( romantic classical music
playing on radio )

Hi, Frank.
Faith.

Isn't it terrible
about Royce?

It's in all
the papers.

Look, they even have
my name in the story.

Yeah, I know.
It ain't any good.

Well, what's bad
about it?

Me getting star billing
with Helen Dwight.

Now, look, baby.
Try to understand, will you?

The less you get
mixed up in the thing,

the better off it's
gonna be for both of us.

Why?

Oh, I'll write you
a letter.

( sighs )

Meanwhile, I want you
to get out of town.

Here.

There's some money.

Now you take it,
and you go to

Europe, Africa,
anyplace.

Go just as far
as you can go.

With all of this publicity
going for me?

You must be
out of your mind.

Well, this publicity is
gonna turn awfully sour

the minute the cops find out
I was backing this play

just to buy you a job.

Now...look,

do us both
a big favor, huh?

Disappear just as fast
as you can.

Tsk.

Well, I don't see why
I have to run away

just because
you threatened to--

( ominous theme playing )

Well, go on, baby.

Finish what you
were gonna say.

I heard you, Frank.

I heard you tell Ernie Royce
you'd be back last night.

Heh.

You were there all the time.

You gonna
k*ll me too, Frank?

Why are you looking
at me like that?

Because I never really

looked at you before.

It's been nice
knowing you, Faith.

What are you
trying to tell me?

I already
told you.

Now, you've got
the money.

Take it and get
out of town fast.

If there's any wrap-up--
( knocking )

Who
is it?

TRAGG:
The police.

May we
come in?

I could say no,
maybe, huh?

You're Miss, uh,
Faith Foster?

Uh, you're
Mr. Frank Brooks?

Yeah. That's right.

Heh. You know,
it, heh--

It's always easier for me
if somebody says, uh...

"What do you want?"

Well, ten to one,
it ain't a hamburger.

What do you want?
Thank you, miss.

You, uh...

got a warrant?

Of course.

Miss Foster.

I'm sorry to
bother you this way.

You're it.

( dramatic theme playing )

( indistinct chatter )

Mr. Mason?
Yes?

I'm Jim West,
Mr. Gifford's publicist.

He's on the set, but he'll
be through in a moment.

Like to watch?

I'd like to go someplace
a little more private.

Well, we could use
one of the dressing rooms.

Oh, here he is.
Mr. Gifford, Mr. Mason.

How do you do?
How do you do?

Perhaps we should have
arranged this meeting

at a less
busy time.

Well, there's
no less busy time.

It's always like this.
Between doing two pictures here,

and at least one play
in New York every year,

I find that time is
the scarcest thing in my life.

I know. I suffer the same
deficiency.
( chuckles )

Well, shall we get to
the business at hand?

Uh, yes. Uh,
whatever it is.

Uh, this dressing room
isn't being used.

Okay.

I've heard a lot
about you, Mr. Mason.

And I about you,
Mr. Gifford.
Ha.

It's mostly
due to Mr. West.

He's my publicity
man.

Uh, Mr. Mason.
Thank you.

What did you want to
talk to me about?

Well, several things.

How well do you know
Frank Brooks?

Well, I met him
only once.

It was when he was
brought here by Ernest Royce

to sign contracts
and give me a check.

You know nothing
about his background?

Well, his check
was good.

I must admit, that's
all I was interested in.

Were...

Brooks and Royce
very friendly?

I really
don't know.

Now, you have produced
more than one play by Royce?

Yes.

Four.
All flops.

Mm, artistic flops?
( scoffs )

Royce never wrote
a decent play.

Yet you were
about to

produce another of
his plays?

It had great promise.

( scoffs quietly )

You agree with that,
Mr. West?

Mr. Gifford's the producer.
I just blow the horn.

MASON:
I see.

Like to have a copy
of the Royce play.

It's unfinished.
It's not going to be produced.

Nevertheless,
I'd like to read it.

( scoffs )

Well, I see no point.

I'll get a copy
from the police.

Uh...

Mr. West will get you
a copy from the office

on the way out.

You asked for it,
Mr. Mason.

Don't blame me
when you're finished.

Why didn't you
like Royce, Mr. West?

The theater
is something

very special
to me, Mr. Mason.

It's been
my family, my home...

everything I've
ever wanted.

When I'm inside a theater,
I'm in a church.

When I see a great play...

I hear angels singing.

When I see
great performances,

I'm walking the streets
of heaven.

Those streets
are very clean

and beautiful, Mr. Mason.

They should be
kept that way.

And I repeat...

why didn't you like
Ernest Royce?

( scoffs )

He was a litterbug.

Thank you,
gentlemen.

Goodbye.
Goodbye.

( sighs )

( mysterious theme playing )

All right,
quiet, please.

This will be
a take.

Roll 'em.

Speed.

DIRECTOR:
All right...

action.

Hello, Michael.

John.

Hello, darling.
Darling, how are you?

Let me take
your coat, hm?

Mm-hm.

More police
today?

A lawyer. Perry Mason.

Representing Brooks?

You shouldn't
have seen him.

Michael, please.
Just relax.

Helen shouldn't be bothered
with all this nonsense.

You know she--
Uh, no talk.

( quietly ):
Sit down.

( tender theme playing )

Helen Dwight...

the great star.

John Gifford, the great
producer.
( chuckles )

She brings me my slippers.

Well, she's
his loving wife.

Ah.

Where's
the glamour of it?

For us?

In the beginning,

the dream
was always work.

But there was no play...

and then there
was a play.

Then there were only
the words of the play,

and the fear
of the words.

Then there was you.

You made the words
come alive.

There was no glamour ever.

There was only work.

The love of work.

Love of you.

You and me.

This is our world.

Heh.

There's no other
population.

Is this wrong?

Well, we'll know
when the curtain falls

on the last act.

Hm.

( dramatic theme playing )

MASON:
Della?

Yes, Perry.

Get Michael Dwight on
the phone for me, will you?

Uh, I don't have
his number.

Well, try Gifford's
office at the studio.

Do you realize
it's after : ?

The studio operator
will get a message

through to him.

( sighs )

Alrighty.

Happy reading?

Hardly.

Mr. Royce is not
my kind of writer.

Did you read the book too?
Mm-hm.

Unpleasant.
( chuckles )

And that's
an understatement.

Why would a publisher
want to print a collection

of unsuccessful plays?

Della, there are certain
printers who will

publish anything
if you pay

the cost of
the printing.

Seems to me that--

Hello?

Uh, could you get a message

to Mr. Michael Dwight
for me, please?

He's Mr. Gifford's
business manager.

Yes, it's urgent.

Would you have him call
Mr. Perry Mason please?

( jazz music playing
over speakers )

Thank you.

Now, how long
have you been

Miss Dwight's
business manager?

Ever since I got out
of college.

You've never worked
for anyone else?

I'm also Mr. Gifford's
personal business manager.

Oh? For how long?

Same length
of time as my sister.

Then you'd be familiar

with all their
contractual obligations?

Yes.

Now, as I understand it,
a run-of-the-play contract

is one in which
a performer is bound

to remain with the play
until it closes.

That's right.

I ask, because
Helen Dwight

had such
a contract.

( exhales
forcefully )

You really find
things out, don't you?

Hm. So do the police.

Now, isn't it, uh...

unusual for a star
like Miss Dwight

to have signed
such a contract

without first
having read the play?

When it comes
to plays...

she does what
John Gifford advises.

But none of you--
not even John Gifford

--knew a thing about the play
until the day of the m*rder.

Yet the contracts were signed
several days before.

Why?

I was not
consulted.

Well, as
their business manager,

didn't you draw
the contracts?

I did as
I was told.

You also drew
Miss Foster's contract?

Yes.

Why would Mr. Gifford give
a contract to an unknown?

A run-of-the-play
contract?

( sighs )

He must have had
great belief in her.

Didn't Royce introduce her
to Mr. Gifford?

( exhales forcefully )

Look, Mr. Mason...

Royce is dead.

As far as I'm concerned,
the play died with him.

Both corpses
have been buried,

and that's the way
they're gonna stay.

Personally, I'd say
whoever k*lled Royce

did the world
a great favor.

Excuse me. Uh, Perry,
I'd like to talk to you.

When you're through,
I'll be in the lobby.

That's all right. Mr. Mason
and I are finished.

I was just
about to leave.

Oh, have your drink,
Mr. Dwight.

Thank you
for coming down.

What did you find out
about Frank Brooks?

He lied to you
about Faith Foster.

He was trying to keep her
out of the case.

Very nice. How do you know
he hasn't lied to you

about a lot of
other things too?

I don't. What are you
leading up to?

You remember a hood
named Rick Volponi?

Mm-hm.

In
New York.

Big man in the numbers
racket, wasn't he?

Mm-hm. About the same time
Frank Brooks admits

he was a small operator
in the same neighborhood.

Go on.
Volponi was shot.

The New York police took it
for the usual g*ng-w*r rubout.

But they never even
got a clue to the k*ller.

So they haven't closed
the files on the case.

That happened about
years ago, didn't it?

Twelve. When Tragg
got in touch

with the New York police
about Brooks' record,

they asked for everything
he had on the Royce case,

including a plastic
mold of the b*llet

taken out of
Royce's head.

And they
found...?

The b*llet
that k*lled Royce

came from the same g*n
that k*lled Volponi

years ago.

Well, it's a long arm
of coincidence

that reaches all the way
from Los Angeles to New York,

and takes years
to do it.

Nevertheless, Perry,
he didn't

tell you
everything before.

He may be concealing
other things.

That may be so,
Della...

but I'm almost sure
he didn't k*ll Royce.

Why?

Royce was k*lled by one of
the real-life characters

he was writing about
in his play.

Brooks didn't resemble
one of those characters.

Unless he was
in the last act.

The lost last act.

Let's go.

( dramatic theme playing )

( menacing theme playing )

ROYCE ( on tape ):
What are you
in such a rush for?

You don't need the money.

BROOKS:
You ain't listening
to me, Ernie.

I said I'm taking
my money

and my girl out of
your show.

ROYCE:
All right,
you can take the girl--

BROOKS:
They come together.
They always did.

That's the way it was agreed.

But there wasn't anything
in the agreement

about you and my girl...

so I'm closing out
everything.

( clattering )

I'm gonna come back here
later tonight

for that money, Ernie.
Now, you better have it,

'cause I won't give you
another chance to get it.

Now, with regard to
the voices on that recording,

which is entered in evidence
as People's Exhibit A,

I ask you,
Mr. Dwight,

have you ever spoken to
the decedent, Ernest Royce?

Many times.

Was his voice one of
the two voices

on that recording
you just heard?

Yes. One was the voice
of Ernest Royce.

Now, about
the defendant.

How many times
have you talked to him?

Mm...perhaps
or times.

Often on the phone.

Can you identify
one of the voices

on that recording as
the defendant's voice?

Yes, definitely.

One was Royce and
the other was Brooks.

Thank you, Mr. Dwight.
No further questions.

Your witness,
Mr. Mason.

No questions.

I call James West
to the stand, please.

BURGER:
Now, Mr. West,

are you aware of
any relationship

between the defendant
and Miss Foster?

Only that
he was willing

to invest
a large amount

of money in furthering
her career as an actress.

Are you aware of
any relationship

between the decedent,
Ernest Royce, and Miss Foster?

Nothing I could
swear to.

Well, you made
a statement to the police

in which you said that you saw
Mr. Royce and Miss Foster

embracing each other.
I did.

Was Miss Foster aware that
you were seeing them like this?

She was.

And she made no attempt
to hide the relationship?

Well, she asked me
not to mention it

to the defendant,
Frank Brooks.

Oh.

Your Honor, I object
to this testimony

as being completely
incompetent.

The district attorney
knows very well

that a man on trial
for his life

cannot be bound by
statements made by others

at times when
he's not present,

or where the statements
are not under oath.

If it please the court,
I agree with defense counsel,

and I regret the witness'
answer to my last question.

Objection
sustained.

The witness' answer
to the last question

will be stricken
from the record.

Proceed,
Mr. Burger.

I have no further questions
of this witness, Your Honor.

You may cross-examine,
Mr. Mason.

Now, Mr. West, before
becoming a publicist,

you were a newspaper
reporter?

That's right.
You had your own byline?

I got it
when I was .

I show you now
certain Photostats

of newspaper articles
purportedly written by you.

( chuckles )

Yeah, I wrote 'em.

It was
a long time ago.

Twelve years.

Your Honor, I offer
these Photostats

for identification, to be
marked Defense Exhibit A.

So ordered.

Now, Mr. West...
( sighs )

...you covered
a great many things

in your columns
at that time.

Theater.

m*rder.

I note you were
very interested

in the Volponi case.
Uh.

That's right.

It was a real
mystery.

According to
another column

of almost
that same date...

Mr. Gifford announced
his first Broadway production.

That's right.

Didn't you meet Helen Dwight
at about that time?

Well, I didn't
exactly meet her.

Please explain.

I saw her on-stage
in her first play.

That was also Mr. Gifford's
first production.

That's right.

You praised them both
very highly.

Hm.

Hard to find new words
to say how great she was.

You even announced
in your column

that you were
in love with her.

I still am.

Even her husband
knows that.

I quote from the Royce play,

act two, page ,

"Steve laughing...

'Old murders
make fascinating plays.'"

Now, Mr. West...

was the Royce play
based on the Volponi m*rder?

I object,
Your Honor.

That question calls for
a conclusion of the witness.

If it please
the court...

Mr. West, as a newspaperman,
covered the Volponi case.

Within proper
definitions,

his conclusion...

could be considered
that of an expert.

If it please
the court...

in any event,
the question is incompetent,

and immaterial
and irrelevant.

The content of the play

has nothing to do with
our m*rder case.

Has Mr. Burger
read the play?

Yes, Mr. Burger has.

And if he may quote
Shakespeare,

It is a "tale
told by an idiot,

full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing."

Shakespeare also said...

"Nature's above art
in that respect."

Your Honor...
I do not dispute

Mr. Burger’s literary
objections to the play.

I do, however, question
his legal objections.

Mr. Royce was k*lled
in exactly the manner

he described
in his own play.

Your Honor...

is Mr. Mason
suggesting

that the deceased
planned his own m*rder?

A good playwright
knows his characters.

Once having
created them,

he doesn't force them
into situations

contrary to
their natural destiny.

Again, let me quote
from the Royce play.

"I know my people.

"I know the two faces
of them.

"The faces they wear
for the public,

"and the secret faces
they show only to each other.

They'll play as
I've written them."

Now, I submit
that this play--

the Royce play

--is based on
the Volponi m*rder.

If it please
the court,

I'd like to apologize
to the court and to counsel.

I didn't realize
what counsel

was trying to bring
before the court.

Not only will I make
no objection,

I will stipulate
that all facts

concerning the m*rder of
Rick Volponi can be considered

in connection with
the case presently at bar.

I'm most willing
for counsel to proceed.

With the understanding,
of course,

that...counsel having opened
the door, we can all walk in.

( clears throat )

Is, uh, counsel
for the defense

willing to proceed

under
these conditions?

Yes, Your Honor.
Quite willing.

Thank you, Mr. Burger.

You're welcome,
Mr. Mason.

Please proceed,
Mr. Mason.

Your Honor.

I'll ask the question
once again, Mr. West.

Is the Royce play
based on the Volponi m*rder?

I can't say.

You refuse to say?

No, I don't know.

The answer would've been
in the third act,

which was stolen.

No further questions.

JUDGE:
Witness may stand down.

I call Mr. John Gifford
to the stand, please.

Now, Mr. Gifford, would you
please recite for this court

your conversation with
Mr. Brooks on this occasion?

He insisted that
Miss Foster

have the best
of everything.

No money spared.

And what did you say?

I told him that
in my companies,

I made the decisions.

If he didn't like it,
he could have his money back.

BURGER:
I see.

He's lying.

We didn't have
any argument.

There wasn't anything said
about any money back.

All right.

BURGER:
What was your reaction
to this meeting?

Well, naturally,
I was somewhat disturbed.

Obviously, uh,
Mr. Brooks

was a very
determined man.

I think that will be all,
Mr. Gifford. Thank you.

Mr. Mason,
cross-examine.

Mr. Gifford...

you stated on
direct examination

that you've been a producer
for nearly years.

Yes.

Were you
an immediate success?

Ha-ha.
Hardly.

I missed many meals
in those early days.

It was a long,
hard struggle.

Your first production
caused

considerable comment,
did it not?

Yeah. It was
fortunately a success,

if that's
what you mean.

Well, the columnists had
quite a bit to say about it

even before you opened it.

Yeah, I really don't
remember too much about it.

Perhaps we can
jog your memory

by showing you
this newspaper account,

which has heretofore
been marked

Defendant's Exhibit A
for identification.

Now, would you please
read that section

that has been
circled in red ink?

"John Gifford announces,
as his first production,

"the first play
by Ernest Royce,

"starring Helen Dwight,

"who will make her first
appearance on a Broadway stage.

"An interesting trio
of firsts,

all new to the New York
theatrical world."

Thank you.

Your Honor, I ask
that this Photostat

be introduced
in evidence.

Very well,
Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Now, Mr. Gifford...

the item you just read...

was it true?

It is.

As of the date
it was printed.

Why was it not true
at a later date?

Well,
I changed my plans.

Your first production
was by another author?

Yes.

But at the time
this was written...

you were just
getting started.

Yet you were able to obtain
financing for a first play

starring
an unknown actress.

Yes.

From whom did you
get this money?

I, uh...

I don't remember.

Wasn't this money
offered to you

by Ernest Royce,
the playwright,

with the single proviso
that you star

an unknown young woman?

And wasn't the sponsor
of this young woman

a notorious gangster?

( bangs table )

Your Honor, I object
to defense counsel's

deliberate disregard
for the rules of procedure.

He knows perfectly well
that no proper foundation

has been laid for
this kind of cross-examination.

And not only is it
improper cross-examination...

it assumes facts
not in evidence,

and it calls
for matters

that have no possible
connection with this case.

I respectfully remind
the court that the decedent,

Ernest Royce, was writing
a play when he was k*lled...

and that this play has been
admitted in evidence.

Mr. Burger must recognize
the startling similarity

between Mr. Gifford's
circumstance years ago

and the first act
of this play.

Your Honor, this is
pure conjecture.

It belongs
on a stage,

not in a court of law.

May I read to the court
these lines

written by the decedent?

"Barbara:
'Why must you open this old,

"forgotten grave again?'

"Steve, laughing:

"'Old murders make
fascinating plays.'

"Gilman:
'They can also

motivate
new murders.'"

Now, what was in this old,
forgotten grave

that caused the decedent

to k*ll his own character
in the play,

and then be k*lled
himself?

I respectfully submit
that Mr. Gifford's answers

may clarify
these questions.

Objection
overruled.

You may proceed,
Mr. Mason.

Thank you,
Your Honor.

Now, Mr. Gifford...

was Helen Dwight's sponsor

a notorious gangster?

I don't remember.

Well, does the name
Rick Volponi

suggest anything to you?

Didn't Mr. Royce
introduce him to you?

No.

I must remind you
you're under oath.

( sighs )
I don't remember.

Do you remember how many
times you saw Mr. Royce

on the day
he was m*rder*d?

Uh...

Well, there was the reading
late in the afternoon.

Weren't you also there
in the morning?

In the morning?
Uh...

yes, yes. We went there
in the morning.

We? Who went with you?

Uh, Mr. Michael
Dwight.

Mr. Dwight is your
business manager, is he not?

Yes.

He is also
your brother-in-law?

Yes.

Was he with you all the time
you were transacting

whatever business you had
with the decedent?

Um...no.

Uh, no.

He went into the study
to make a telephone call.

Why did you give Mr. Royce
your check for $ ,

the morning after Mr. Brooks
gave you his check

for the exact
same amount?

Check?

Your check, for that amount,

made out to the order
of Ernest Royce,

was deposited by him
to his account at that time.

Uh...

It--
It was an advance.

An advance
on his royalties.

A $ , advance?

Well, it's my money.
I can do what I want with it.

Nobody tells me
what to do.

Not Jim West, nor Helen Dwight,
nor anyone else.

It's my show,
and I run it my way!

Mr. Gifford...

are you asking
this court to believe

that you made
a $ , advance

on a play
you hadn't even read?

I have every right to do
as I please with my money.

Do you have every right
to allow yourself

to be blackmailed
to hide a m*rder?

For I submit that every
Royce play you produced

was a form of blackmail.

Royce brought you
a backer.

The backer
gave you money.

You then turned
that money over to Royce...

using your own money
to produce the play.

You did this
because years ago,

Rick Volponi
had found out

that you
and his girl,

Helen Dwight,
had fallen in love.

He threatened her,
so you k*lled him.

And Royce knew
you k*lled him.

Where did you get that?

He knew your two faces.

For years,
you paid him a fortune

not to make
your secret face public.

And when finally
he demanded not only money...

but the sadistic
pleasure

of re-creating
the events

surrounding
the Volponi m*rder...

Royce was k*lled.

Now, Mr. Gifford...

where is the g*n that
k*lled Rick Volponi?

No, no.

Michael,
he mustn't.

This is...
my g*n...

registered
in my name.

I k*lled
Rick Volponi.

Ernest Royce
said he would

dispose of it
for me,

but
he didn't.

He held it
to my head

for years.

Forced me to
give him money...

produce
his plays.

Time and again,

he tortured me
with this g*n...

put it
in my hand...

defied me
to use it.

But he knew I couldn't k*ll.

That night, I came back to plead
with him about the play.

He taunted me again.

And this time,

the g*n
spoke out for me.

Better give it to me,
Mr. Gifford.

This g*n
has a...

limited
vocabulary.

It speaks one short word.

And everything that is,
is suddenly revised.

What is becomes
what was...

and what might have been...

can never be.

Please, Mr. Gifford,
the g*n.

It has
one more word

to speak.

It would be the wrong
word, Mr. Gifford.

A tragic ending
to a play based on

an old and...

sad mistake.

You know as well as I,

it was not you
who k*lled Royce.

And I can tell you now...

it was not Helen Dwight
who k*lled Volponi.

You! You k*lled Volponi,
and you k*lled Royce.

And you made
John and Helen

suffer
all these years.

Why you--
Yes!

I k*lled Volponi.

Stop it.
Because he...

Because he hurt Helen.

And I k*lled Royce...

because he'd never
let her forget it.

( melancholy theme playing )

And all those years,
I--

I thought
you k*lled him.

I tried to
tell you, John.

I tried to tell you,
but I couldn't.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.

You saved me
from becoming

a cheap and melodramatic
anticlimax.

( dramatic theme playing )

( mysterious theme playing )

Michael k*lled Royce with
Gifford's g*n, didn't he?

Mm-hm.

He got it
from Royce's desk

when he stole
the last act.

Well, then how did
Gifford get it back?

Same way he got it
years ago.

From Helen?

She knew immediately
that Michael k*lled Royce.

Just as Gifford
immediately believed

that Helen
had done it.

Helen took the g*n
from Michael.

Gifford took the g*n
from her.

It was the same triple play
all over again.

Only this time, it was
Royce who was snuffed out.

One question,
counselor.

When did you
land on Michael?

When Gifford,
without realizing it,

pointed to him as the person
who'd stolen the last act.

You mean, when
he was supposed to be

making the telephone
call?

Mm-hm. Well...

What a nice
surprise.

Well, I was
invited too.

Where?
I forgot
to tell you.

We were all invited
to dine with Brooks

at his Wilshire
drive-in.

You know, the place
that serves

the flaming
hamburgers.

On a sword.
Naturally.

Perry, if you want to make
my evening complete,

just tell me
where you found it.

Found what?
The lost last act.

Oh, just
a minute.

Here.

Like to
read it?

They're all blank.

Della.
Hm?

You were
kidding

about flaming hamburgers
on a sword?

No, I wasn't.

Perry...

you take
the hamburger.

I'll eat the sword.

( all laughing )

( noirish jazz theme playing )