05x29 - The Case of the Promoter's Pillbox

[bunniefuu]

[door opens, closes]

I'm Mr. Corby's secretary.
Can I help you?

No, thank you.

I was just leaving.

[Man]
I wouldn't.

There you are, Miriam.

Don't go away.
We've got problems.

Charlie, there was a man in here.

Someone ran out of here
just before you came in.

He looked very strange,
like maybe he'd stolen something.

Someone?

A young guy.
He was shoving something inside his coat.

A script, maybe.

I'd better call the gate.

Petty theft. Forget about it.

What's our problem this time, Charlie?

Get your book.

I'll give you some rewrite
on tonight's sh**ting.

Right.

Here we go.

Revised pages.
Act III, Scene II, Mister Nobody.

Interior,
Mademoiselle Zizi's dressing room.

Close-up.

- Zizi crying her stupid little heart out.
- [door closes]

- Charlie.
- Something shaking, baby?

How come the big director
isn't down on the set?

I sent word for you to get down
to that set an hour ago.

Better help yourself to some
of those happy pills, Charlie.

You'll need them. Where is it?

That beautiful second-unit footage
you sent a company up north to film?

It's coming, baby.
It's on its way just like I promised.

Don't soft-soap me, Charlie.

Joe from the union said
you never hired another crew.

Didn't need it, baby.
Didn't need it.

We struck oil, that's what.

I got a call from Superior.

Phil Rubin. You remember him?

Those indie dog epics
he cleaned up on a couple of years ago?

Phil calls me, see?
He's got , feet of gorgeous stuff.

Knock your eyes out.
He's making a work print for us right now.

Yeah, I remember some of that stuff.

Not bad. Let's see.

We'll cut all establishing stuff exterior,
dissolve into the bedroom.

I guess that'll work.

And knock a half day off the schedule.

That's good thinking, Mike.
That's great.

The dough we'll save we'll use
to expand the music score,

dress up the credits.

"Directed by Michael Flint."

A hundred-piece orchestra,
tympanis, the works.

Well, okay, Charlie. Oh, look.

I hate to bring this up again,
but the script-- it's pretty awful.

- That third act, Charlie--
- Say no more, baby.

I got the best writer in television
to do a rewrite for me.

As a personal favor. Only the best, baby.

Rod Serling himself.

[Flint]
Serling doing a rewrite on Mister Nobody?

Spoke to Rod this morning
at the Springs.

"Charlie, boy," says Rod,

"the third act curtain's finished,
typed, and on its way to you now."

Well, you know Rod.

It's gotta be great. He's the greatest.

I gotta get back to the set.

Get those revised pages to me
the minute they get here, will you?

Sure thing, baby.

- [sighs]
- [door opens]

- [door closes]
- The Palm Springs envelope again,

Mr. Serling?

Yeah, yeah. Where were we?

- Act III, Scene II.
- [sighs]

Oh, yeah.

What would I do without you?
Now, where were we?

Oh, yeah. Zizi crying her stupid
little heart out.

We cut to Mr. Nobody
entering her dressing room,

his face radiating a warm,

loving smile.

And we cut to Mr. Nobody
on the phone, saying,

"Hello, what's your latest advisory
on the hurricane"--

- Just a minute, Mr. Corby.
- Hold it.

"The Key West area. What?

You're positive it's veering out
to the ocean? Thank you."

He hangs up, smiling.
Cut. Two copies, Miriam.

Well, Mr. David Crane.

May I speak to you alone for a minute?

Look, I'm the man who raised the money
for this TV show of yours-- Mister Nobody.

Oh, Davey, I wouldn't go that far.

You introduced me to my silent partner,
Mrs. Nelly Lawton.

Sit down, Davey.
What's on your mind?

The chattel mortgage
Mister Nobody Incorporated received

from the Woodfield Mortgage Company.

What about it?

Well, a chattel mortgage is a mortgage
based on an individual's possessions,

in this case, Mrs. Lawton's jewelry
and art collection.

You're a lawyer. You ought to know.

What I don't know is simply this--

I left instructions
that when the mortgage was recorded,

I was to receive a copy.

I received no copy, so I called.

The first thing I found out was
that the mortgage has never been recorded.

You don't say?

Well, what do you know?

Amazing how sloppy
some of these big business outfits are.

Well, I'll have to see to that,
make sure everybody's protected.

Isn't that right?

Just as soon as I finish this memo
to the sponsor's agency.

Sponsor?

Look, I'm kind of busy right now.

Are you going to be
in the steam room tonight?

Suppose we discuss it then,

and thanks for stopping by.

Anytime, you know,
you want to visit the set--

Mr. Corby, Charlie, there's something else.

I called Woodfield Mortgage.

They told me on the phone
the mortgage is not for , --

which I understood was the permissible loan

based on the value
of Mrs. Lawton's things--

but that the mortgage was written up
for $ , .

Preposterous--

that's what it is--

just impossible that an outfit like that

could hire somebody to make
a stupid mistake like that,

I mean, reading you the numbers
from the wrong mortgage.

But suppose they weren't
the wrong numbers, Charlie.

Suppose it wasn't a mistake.

Suppose, suppose, suppose.

Davey, it's got to be a mistake.

They're not just going to give money away
like that.

Why, it's-- it's practically illegal, Davey.

But if they did

and if Mrs. Lawton finds out
they over-evaluated her property

and loaned twice what they should,

she'll certainly wonder
where all that money went to.

Davey boy, it's got to be nothing
but a silly mistake.

Now, you know that,

so why worry?

Nelly's way out of touch.
You know that.

- Nelly's in Europe.
- [intercom buzzes]

Yeah, Miriam?

Mrs. Nelly Lawton is calling.

Uh, th-th-they want me on the soundstage?

Urgent?

Hold it.

Look, Davey boy,
don't fret about a thing, hmm?

I'll get the loan company on the horn.

I'll have them send you the corrected copy
of the recorded mortgage.

Okay? Okay.

See you around the steam room, pal.

[exhales]

Nelly, baby.

Hi, genius, got a minute?

Where's my Nelly, Paris or London, huh?

Mm-mm, Los Angeles.

Just before the plane took off, genius,
I got so homesick for you.

Mental telepathy, baby.

Didn't want you to go.

Well, you can tell me
all about that tonight at my place.

Well, we're sh**ting tonight, baby.

Might have to wait.

But it can't wait, genius.

There's so much to go over with you
about the show,

about a new writer I found for you.

He's-- He's awfully clever.

His name is, um-- let's see--

ah, Herbert Simms.

One of your playmates, baby?

Dinner at what time, Charlie?

Make it supper.

[chuckles]
Perfect.

Bye-bye, genius.

Now, you just forget the cares of the day,
genius, and think only of me, okay?

What's this about somebody claiming
he wrote the script for Mister Nobody?

Oh, yes, Herbert Simms?

Well, it seems that he read
somewhere in the paper

that I was your partner,

and he showed me a script.

Baby, you didn't steal his script,
now, did you?

Just one of these spooks in this business,

got wind of the idea and wrote a script,
for nuisance money.

Well, I'm so relieved.

Oh, and there's another thing, too.

My Attorney David Crane
came over this afternoon ,

and he said something
about your promising to call

the Woodfield Mortgage Company.
Did you?

Why, no, baby.

Stampede at the ranch
and all that sort of thing.

Oh, well, never mind.

- I did.
- Good.

A Mr. Stokes,

a very determined man,

kept insisting that the chattel mortgage
on my things

was for , ,

not the , you told me it was for.

[chuckles]
That's mad.

I swindled a mortgage company
out of , .

Not mad. Clever.

Amazing.

Sure, my secretary has
the power of attorney,

and I leave the details to her, but , ?

Where would I hide all that?

Well, it really doesn't matter.

As long as the picture's finished
and everything comes back--

the mortgage company's money
and my pretty little baubles,

and, of course, I'm still going to be around,

so, well, if there is anything left,

you can just spend it on me.

You make the future sound almost real.

Well, it would be such a bother,
having to tell everyone

that you hooked me
into financing a film script

that you stole from Herbert, uh,
what's his name, Simms?

You frighten me, baby,

but good.

It's my son, Perry.
It's on account of him I called you.

If not you, who else could I trust?

You and your late husband
were very kind to me

when I was just a law student
living in this neighborhood.

You know I'll do whatever I can to help you.

Now, what's wrong, Mrs. Simms?

My son Herbert
started hating being a pharmacist.

He wants to make a million

from ideas for these different TV shows,

from moving pictures, yet, too.

Well, there's nothing wrong with that.

Now he says somebody stole his best idea,

his chance to make a million dollars.

There are certain legal steps he can take.

Oh, he's changed, Perry.

The whole world hates him is how he thinks.

Oh, on the outside he's quiet,

but inside he keeps a--

a terrible, terrible b*mb.

Herbie, look who dropped in.

Poppa's friend.

Well, have I changed that much, Herbert?

No, Mr. Mason.

I, uh, understand you're trying
to break into TV.

I'd rather not talk about it.

When I called Mrs. Lawton this morning,

she said she was sorry.

She saw Corby last night,

and he denied all that I'd told her,

and there was nothing more she could do.

Herbert, when you mailed
your Mister Nobody script

to Corby Productions,

did you receive any acknowledgement
of the submission?

Not a word.

Did you send it registered mail,
with a return receipt,

and keep a dated carbon copy
of the script itself?

No, I didn't know I was supposed to.

To bring action, you must prove
that you actually wrote the material,

that he had access to it,

that he read it,

then used it without payment to you.

Well, of course he had access to it.

Does he still have it?
That would be important to us.

S-Sure he still has it.

All right.

We will attend a court order in the morning,

impounding the files

to prevent his concealing proof
of your submission

by getting rid of the script.

I'll be in touch with you, Herb.

[Flint]
Yo, Corby!

Hold it!

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Sorry, baby, I gotta go.

Send me a memo, huh?

Remember the old saying, Charlie.

You can run, but you can't hide.

Take it easy, Mike.

They gave me a runaround
on those wind machines.

They promised to send them.
Then just didn't.

I had to get Rod baby to write
the hurricane out of the script.

I can read you like the funny papers.

For why all this megillah?

Mike, the footage is great.

All you've got is tonight's work,
and you're finished.

Finished is right.

You scrimped and cheated
all the way down the line--

on talent, sets, music, everything.

I thought this was my chance
for a comeback,

make a new reputation.

Mike, you're sounding
like your old reputation.

Anything you don't like,
your insecurity sends you to Juice Junction--

the bottle.

Get hold on to yourself, baby.

Get those last sh*ts in the can tonight
and go to bed happy.

All right, Charlie, I gave you your chance,

but the way you want it,

that's how you're going to get it.

Thanks, baby. See you later.

Charlie! Mr. Corby, wait!

Him wait?

You dreamer, you.

But there's a Mr. Stokes in the office,

from the Woodfield Mortgage Company,

Mortgage company, huh?

Now, if Charlie had a mother

and she had a house,

I'd really be worried.

[French accent]
A check?

For $ , ?

For me, Zizi?

I want no part of the reward, madame.

Oh, but why not, monsieur?

Because you are Zizi,
and me, I'm nobody.

No, no. Oh, Mr. Nobody.

[Flint]
No, no.

[exaggerated French accent]
"Mistaire" Nobody.

Uh, forget it.

Cut it!

Print it.

- [stage bell rings]
- Wrap it up and drown it.

Come on, peasants.
It's time to celebrate.

- [people chattering]
- [Man] Ha-ho! Let's go.

How was it?

Magnificent.

You mean it?

Easy on the bottle, Mike.

Where's Charlie?

Around.

He better be.

Why, Mr. Stokes.

Oh, good evening. Is Corby here?

We're expecting him soon.
May I make you a drink?

Just a very light one. Here, I'll do it.

Well, the indispensable Miss Waters.

Charlie didn't tell me
that the party was formal.

Is he around?

I thought that he would come with you.

And leave with you,
judging by your ensemble.

I'm sorry, darling,
but I have other plans for him tonight.

Show me around, will you?
I don't know a soul here.

The great man himself!
Yes, sir.

Charlie ol' boy! Little baby boy!

Charlie here was going to take a trip
and miss the party!

[people groaning]

He's going to make a speech,
that's what.

Charlie's going to make a speech.

[Crowd]
Yeah, speech, speech, speech...

Well, here you are--

the money, the talent, and the manpower,

the team that's going to make
Mister Nobody an American institution,

as well-known as ham and eggs
and pie á la mode.

My job has been very simply a pleasant one
of bringing you all together,

and I want to say this
from the bottom of my heart--

In my years in this business,

I have never had the unselfish cooperation

and the just plain darn desire to put out
beyond the call of duty,

that I've had from
all of you wonderful people.

Only one more thing to say--

Thank you and bless you all.

[crowd]
# For he's a jolly good fellow #

# For he's a jolly good fellow #

# For he's a jolly good fellow #

# Which nobody can deny #

[groans]

[bottle shatters]

Well, Miss Miriam.

Mike, look at you.

I got a riddle, Miss Miriam.

Suppose a producer

makes an invisible picture.

You got it?

Does that make him an invisible producer?

What are you talking about, Mike,
invisible picture?

Mister Nobody, that's what.

Never was no picture, no ma'am.

He's a crook.

Never no picture, no.

Charlie baby stole all the money, see.

He's going to run away

and leave us all with nothing,

nothing except an invisible picture.

[Miriam]
Charlie?

Mr. Corby!

That's not Charlie baby.

You, stop!

Stop him!
Stop him!

No, Herbert, no.

Simms...

[groans]

You said my script had to be
in his possession to prove I had a claim.

I was afraid to tell you I'd already
broken into his office and stolen it.

Don't you see?

I had to put it back
before you impounded his files.

All right, Herbert.

I want the full story of what happened,

starting with how you got into the studio.

I got in through the back... lot--

It's called the truck gate.

When I sneaked into the office building,

I stopped outside the door to Corby's room.

He was there?

I heard his voice.

His and another man's.

I didn't know who it was.

They talked so low I couldn't make out
what they were saying,

but it sounded like an argument, a quarrel.

Then I went into the washroom
up the hall to wait.

How long were you there?

Maybe five or ten minutes,

in the dark it seemed forever,

and then I heard someone staggering
along the hall,

stumbling like they'd had too much to drink,

and after a while, when I did come out,

he was gone.

Then I slipped in to put the script back.

It was dark.

And I stumbled over Corby's body

on the floor.

He was lying there, staring up at me.

Did you try to help him?

No, I just ran.
I thought he was dead.

But he wasn't, was he?

At least he was alive enough
to seemingly name you as his m*rder*r.

[Della]
Perry?

What is it, Della?

A Miss Miriam Waters to see you.

Corby's secretary?

Show her in.

Right.

Come in, please.

Miss Waters, won't you sit down?

You wanted to speak to me?

There's something I have to ask you,
Mr. Mason.

Did that young man, Herbert Simms,

did he take Mr. Corby's pillbox
from the office last night?

Please, tell me the truth.

Pillbox?

No, he never mentioned it to me.

Oh, good.

I was sure it wouldn't be him.

They ought to be investigating people
like that Nelly Lawton.

- A woman like that--
- [Mason] Now, just a moment.

This pillbox,

the police know it's missing?

Not yet,

but they asked me to check
a list of his personal things,

and what was in the office,

and they did find a couple of his pills
in the wastebasket.

They were just Charlie's regular pills.

He was always chewing them like popcorn,

but then I got to thinking--

that's about all the pills he had left

because I was supposed to get his
prescription filled the next morning,

and then I got to wondering--
where was the pillbox?

Never mind. I get the idea.

[picks up phone]

[dialing]

Doctor Walker, please.

Joe, this is Perry Mason.

On your coroner's autopsy on Charles Corby,

I suggest that an essential part
of the corpus delicti

may be a report by a toxicologist.

Mm-hm.

Chemical examination for poison.

Nelly, you have company.

[Nelly]
Hi, there.

Do-- Do I know you?

My name is Mason.

- I'm counsel for--
- Oh, yes, Herbert Simms.

Well, how nice of you to call.

Um, Davey, why don't you pick me up
about : .

Is that an invitation to leave?

By the way, I'm David Crane,
Mrs. Lawton's attorney.

[Mason]
Mr. Crane.

Won't you sit down, Mr. Mason?

Thank you.

- Um, what would you like?
- Nothing, thank you.

Surely you must've come
all the way out here for something.

Now, don't you tell me.
You let me guess.

Help for you client.

Another candidate
for the m*rder nomination.

- Right?
- Nelly--

Well, everybody knows that Charlie had
an absolute genius for making enemies.

As a matter of fact,
I've just been rather abruptly advised

that the only thing he didn't try to make
was a good TV pilot.

After all the money I poured into it, and,
boy, all he could think about was larceny.

It's no wonder so many people
had it in for him.

You take Mike Flint, for example,

counting on Mister Nobody
for his big TV comeback.

On the night of the party he drank so much

that he couldn't even walk
without falling down.

And then there's Miriam Waters.

You know, I've heard about secretaries
being office wives.

Well, she took it literally.

Nelly, that was a nasty insinuation.

Well, I'm only trying to help.

And then, of course, Mr. Mason,

there is little old me,

dreaming of becoming
a big executive producer

and then having the chattels
whisked right out from under my feet...

and last but not least, there is David.

He brought Charlie to me for the financing.

Now, that's not funny at all.

I had nothing to do with that deal.
It was set up, and you know it.

Well, you were jealous
of Charlie there, Davey.

'Fess up.

David has been
absolutely infatuated with me

ever since I divorced my third husband.

Haven't you, David?

- Nelly--
- Yes, you have.

This deal Mr. Crane just spoke of,

it had to do with a chattel mortgage.

Is that right?

Yes, with the Woodfield Mortgage Company.

Mrs. Lawton, as your attorney,

I must advise you, you're not obliged
to answer that.

"Mrs. Lawton--"

my, aren't we getting legal all of a sudden.

You'd think that I had something
absolutely dreadful to hide.

Haven't you, Mrs. Lawton?

Corby m*rder*d.

When I saw it in the paper, I was shocked.

I just couldn't believe it.

I stopped at your office to discuss
the mortgage your company gave

to Mrs. Lawton to finance Corby's film.

Mr. Gustavson, here--

Mr. Mason indicated
how urgent the matter was, sir--

It's all right, Gustavson.

What can I do to help, Mr. Mason?

Who approved that chattel mortgage
to the Mister Nobody Company?

Well, I okayed it in general,

but I was in San Francisco, unfortunately,

when the money was paid out.

You're aware the security
was appraised at twice its value

so that when the loan was written,

Corby received not , but $ , ?

Aware of it.

What do you think I was trying
to talk to Corby about yesterday?

Why do you think I have gray hair?

Mr. Mason, I've got a stupid appraiser
in my office

who is going to be fried in oil

as soon as I can get my coat on
and get down there--

I'm afraid we haven't been able to locate

Mr. Bender yet, sir.

Oh, you haven't.

That's the same song and dance
you gave me last night.

My top appraiser makes a fantastic error

and then just disappears.

Unless you find Al
in the next hour, Gustavson--

Wait a moment.

Al?

Oh, yes, sir. That's his name, sir,

Al Bender.

There was an item on the police list,

something from Corby's wastebasket,

a scribbled note.

It said something like,
"On my way. Thanks."

It was signed "Al."

That does it.

Corby and Bender.

Oh, my head.

Mr. Stokes,
did you talk with Corby at all yesterday?

Sure.

I was childish enough to think

that I could talk Corby into handing back
the extra ,

so I could straighten things out
with Mrs. Lawton.

I knew that she would agree.

But he refused.

He said he would discuss it with me later,

in the projection room,

but he never showed up.

I began to feel sick.

I got this splitting headache,

from that one lousy drink
they gave me, I guess.

Anyway, I gave up.
I started home to Encino.

This motel
is quite a way from Encino, isn't it?

It's as far as I got.

My head ached so badly
that I had to stop for the night.

It's beginning to hammer again now.
I'm a sick man, Mr. Mason.

Do you blame me?

Corby dead,

the money missing,

Bender gone, maybe for good.

Al Bender just don't live here no more,

and I don't keep tabs on my roomers

unless their rent's past due.

Any idea where I could get a lead on him?

Well, you might try Chico's Bar
over on Sixth Street.

That's, you know, on Alvarado.

Bender.

Nope, never heard of him.

Oh, you mean Al Bender.

Sure, he used to come around here
all the time.

Not anymore, though.

He blew town.

Oh? When was that?

Hm, couple days ago.

He owed his ex a pocket full of alimony,

and he was into his bookie for a bundle,

so he wasn't going to walk past
any dark alleys.

He said he was going to take off
like a jet-propelled bird

and keep going.

- Going where?
- Al never did say which way he was going.

With an independent operation
like Corby's,

our processing lab
has been burned enough to be careful.

I told Corby we checked around,

that we insisted he do business
with us, at least, on a strictly cash basis.

What did your checking around reveal,
may I ask?

Well, Corby's company ordered
approximately , feet of raw stock film.

He used about ,
on the Mister Nobody picture.

The rest of it was shipped to Spain

to Corby International Productions, Ltd.

Oh, there's some other things, Mr. Mason--

a synch machine, two hand cameras,

an old editing machine,
and various and sundry other supplies,

all shipped to Spain

but paid for out of the Mister Nobody budget.

Corby never intended making
Mister Nobody into a finished picture.

He just bled the money out of that setup

to finance his own film ventures overseas.

No dice.

Al Bender disappeared
two days before the m*rder.

What about Corby's missing pillbox?

No, nothing there, either.

However, I did pick up
a rumor at headquarters.

They made a fast check and then ordered
a more extensive autopsy,

a visceral for the toxicology lab.

It seems someone over there
agrees with you

that Corby might have been poisoned.

He was indeed, and I must remember
to plug that pipeline you've been using.

Della, Perry.

Well, Andy, what brings you here?

Just a friendly call, Perry.

I didn't want to raise your hopes too high.

There were traces of poison in Corby,

but he died from a blow in the head,

a blow delivered by your client.

The larger fragments
of the shattered whiskey bottle

exactly fitted the cranial depression.

Death was caused by a blow on the head

inflicted by an object
such as that whiskey bottle,

a blow so severe the bottle itself shattered.

Thank you, Doctor. That'll be all.

Yours, Mr. Mason.

Doctor, as part of the autopsy,

was there a detailed chemical analysis made

to determine if poison was present
in the body of the decedent?

Yes, there was.

We found traces of arsenic trioxide.

[Mason]
Is it possible, Doctor,

that the poison, and not the blow,
caused the death of the decedent,

that he was already dead
or as good as dead

at the moment the blow was struck?

No, Mr. Mason.

There were only very minute quantities
of poison present.

Charles Corby was k*lled
by a blow on the head.

Where else, Lieutenant Anderson,

did you find blood matching
that of the dead man?

On the defendant.

Laboratory examination of his clothing

also revealed
the presence of glass splinters,

glass matching
that of the broken whiskey bottle.

[Burger]
We know that Herbert Simms

had a shallow glass cut
on the palm of his hand.

As to the decedent himself,

in addition to his own blood,

did your laboratory examination
reveal any other blood

on the person or body
of the m*rder*d man?

Yes sir, minute traces of blood
not that of the decedent,

but matching the blood type
of the defendant, Herbert Simms.

Although it was not prerequisite, of course,

to approve the mortgage to Mrs. Lawton,

she had given me a copy of Corby's budget

for the television pilot film
that she was financing.

Mr. Stokes, was there a provision
in that budget

for a payment for an original teleplay?

[Stokes]
Yes, $ , ,

to be paid to a Mr. Herbert Simms.

[Burger]
Your witness, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Stokes, how much did your company
actually pay out on that mortgage?

$ , ,

but that was a matter of collusion

between Corby and one of my appraisers,
Albert Bender,

in over-evaluating Mrs. Lawton's security.

[Mason]
Tell me, Mr. Stokes,

exactly how this collusion took place?

Well, Mrs. Lawton signed a blank loan
request, note, and mortgage forms

so that Mr. Corby
could handle the matter for her,

assuming that the maximum
amount allowable,

based on the appraisal,
would be inserted later.

And what was inserted

was a figure based
on twice the correct appraisal?

Yes.

That explains why Bender
never filed the mortgage,

so that nobody would check the amount.

Then when the picture
was completed and sold,

the full amount would be returned,

nobody the wiser.

Mr. Stokes, I understand
that your hobby is lithography,

using woodcuts to make your prints.

Now, in finishing a print,

have you ever used a paper glaze?

Why, yes.
I use a product called Noymann's Fixit.

And are you aware, Mr. Stokes,

that that product is toxic,

that it contains a high percentage
of arsenic trioxide?

- What?
- No further questions.

Herbert Simms came to me
with a copy of a script

that he claimed Charlie
had used for his pilot film

but, well, he didn't pay him.

What was his attitude about this?

Well, he was very angry
and abusive and...

Go on, Mrs. Lawton.
What did he say?

Well, he said that he wouldn't let Charlie
get away with stealing his script,

that if he wasn't paid, he'd, uh--

he'd k*ll him.

[Burger]
Your witness.

Mrs. Lawton,

when I visited you at your home,

do you recall telling me that Mr. Flint,
the director of the pilot film,

was so drunk at the party
the night of the m*rder

that he fell down?

Yes, I saw him fall down twice.

Was one of those times in the corridor
just outside Mr. Corby's office?

No, that wasn't when I--

All right, he wasn't there,

but were you there, Mrs. Lawton?

Yes, I-- I wanted to see Charlie,

so I went to his office and knocked on door,

but he didn't answer,

so, uh... I left.

I see.

Mrs. Lawton,

around your beautiful home you do
a good deal of the gardening, don't you?

- Yes, pruning, planting, spraying.
- Spraying, Mrs. Lawton?

Would that be spraying

with one of the many garden sprays
that contain arsenic trioxide?

Thank you. No further questions.

[Burger]
Miss Waters, did you ever prepare a check

for Herbert Simms
in payment for a script he wrote?

No, never.

And our company books--

regardless of what the budget said,

our books showed no such payment.

I see.

Let's return, now,
to the night of the m*rder.

Would you tell us, Miss Waters,

while you and the guard were in that room,

what the dying man said,

as close as possible, in his exact words.

"No, Herbie, no.

Simms, don't."

Thank you, Miss Waters.

Your witness.

Miss Waters,

you knew that Charles Corby
was buying film, equipment,

and other supplies,

charging them to the pilot production

but actually shipping them overseas
to another producing company he owned?

Yes.

Look, Mr. Mason, I was only his secretary,

not his conscience.

I did what I was told to do, period.

Out of loyalty or love, Miss Waters?

What difference does it make?

He's dead, isn't he?

Sure, I suppose
he was robbing everybody blind.

Maybe he never intended to make
Mister Nobody,

and maybe he was trying
to promote himself

into some overseas production unit,
but so what?

That's the way the business is,

and that's the way
a lot of the people in it are.

Charlie was no better than many--

I admit that--

but he was no worse than most, either.

Is it not a fact, Miss Waters,

that you are now
and have been for some time,

under a doctor's care?

Yes, I have
some form of nutritional anemia.

[Mason]
An improper utilization

of the iron in your system.

Am I mistaken in stating

that one of the medications you take
to improve this iron action

is a form of Fowler's Solution?

Yes, I think that was the name
the doctor mentioned to me.

Did he also mention

that in every cubic centimeters
of Fowler's Solution

there are . grams of arsenic trioxide?

[Judge]
One moment, counselor.

Mr. Burger.

Your Honor, it's perfectly obvious

the defense counsel is trying to suggest

that someone tried to poison Mr. Corby

and that perhaps Mr. Corby
found out about this

so that the m*rder*r was forced to adopt
a more direct method.

However, Your Honor,

the State has no objection
to this line of questioning.

As a matter of fact,

it serves as an introduction
for our next witness,

a Mr. Maurice Parness.

Mr. Parness, as a State Inspector,

is it a part of your function

to visit various pharmacies

and to inspect their records regarding,

among other things,

across-the-counter sales
of arsenic compounds?

Yes, it is.

Mr. Parness, did you within the past week

examine the records
of the Simms Pharmacy,

and if so, what did you find?

[Parness]
Yes, sir, I examined the records,

and, as your office requested,

I double-checked their inventory vouchers.

The records show an unexplained shortage

of a considerable amount
of arsenic trioxide.

This is going to k*ll Momma, Mr. Mason.

She...

worked so hard and sacrificed
so much to give me every break.

She was set on my taking over
the store when Poppa died.

It almost broke her heart
when I said I wanted to be a writer.

And now all of this.

Suppose we worry about you right now.

That cut on your hand,

the whiskey and glass and blood
on your clothes,

your blood on Corby--

I assume you have an explanation for that?

Well, I-I told you, Mr. Mason,

I stumbled over Corby in his office.

A-Actually, I fell.

There was glass all-- all around him,

and I touched him.

I guess I should've mentioned
that cut hand.

I guess you should've.

What about the arsenic missing
missing from your store?

Oh, that.

That was nothing.

I used that myself to get rid of some rats
in the back storeroom.

But the Board of Pharmacy Inspector--

the records, your books, Herbert.

I told you I wasn't cut out to be a druggist.

I simply forgot to enter it. That's all.

You think I'm going to get
into trouble over that?

Herbert, as your mother would say,

that should be your only trouble.

The m*rder*r struck Corby and left.

Corby lay there, dying,
when Herbert came in.

The last thing that registered
in Corby's mind

was Herbert touching him,

starting to move him to see if he was dead.

So when the guard came in with Miriam
and they rolled Corby over,

Corby, then about dead,

thought it was still Herbert,

and cried out,
"No, Herbie, no, Simms, don't."

That explains the dying declaration,

but what about the poison business,
Perry?

The poison business, Burger
has dumped right back into my lap.

He'll contend that Herbert
tried to poison Corby,

that Corby caught him at it,

they fought,
Herbert bashed in Corby's skull.

Period Corby. Period Herbert.

But the Autopsy Surgeon said
there was hardly any poison in Corby?

Oh, possibly he took only a sip of it--

- or...
- Or what?

Perry, we got a break,
the first break of the case.

What is it, Paul?

Well, your hunch
about the travel agency was right.

Al Bender wasn't exactly jet propelled.

It was just an all-tourist, non-jet flight,

but he's been located in Mexico City.

I have one of my men on the way there now
to get a statement from him.

Mr. Crane, on your arrival
at the studio that night,

where did you go first?

Directly to Corby's office, to see him.

I found Mrs. Lawton in the outer room.

She said he'd slipped away from the party,

and she was looking for him
but had gotten no response from her knock.

Go on, sir.

I suggested perhaps he'd gone
back to the soundstage,

so we went there to see.

Later on, we heard he was dead.

I think that'll be all, Mr. Crane.
Thank you.

Your witness.

Mr. Crane, is it not true

that you brought Corby
and Mrs. Lawton together,

with the result that she financed
his pilot film through a chattel loan?

Is it not also true that they paid you
a finder's fee, $ , , to be exact?

Well, I-- I didn't know then
it was a con game.

I'll give it all back. I want no part of it.

[Mason]
That's very generous of you,

Mr. Crane, but--

Your Honor, may I have a moment?

Certainly, Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Bender?

Mr. Crane,

have you ever at any time
had access to,

or after business hours
gained entrance to,

the offices of the Hollywood Branch
of the Woodfield Mortgage Company?

Why, no.

I'm sure you won't mind if we confirm that.

I ask to recall Jerome Stokes.

No, Crane couldn't gain access
to our papers,

not to my knowledge at least.

Why would he?

To make fraudulent alteration

to the appraisal
on the Lawton chattels, Mr. Stokes.

[Stokes]
But that was Bender,

one of my appraisers, who did that.

Mr. Stokes,

I find that Bender's ex-wife,

complaining of nonpayment of alimony,

has recently petitioned the court

for a Writ of Garnishment,

attaching part of his salary.

Is that so? I hadn't heard that.

Haven't you?
Didn't you know Mr. Bender was in trouble?

Of course not.
There are employees in my office.

All right, then, tell me this--

you do considerable traveling,

both on company business
and for pleasure.

Do you ordinarily procure your tickets
and reservations through a travel agency?

Well... yes, that's right.

Did you, two days
before Charles Corby was m*rder*d,

write a check to that travel agency
in the amount of $ ?

I may have.
I have rather a large account.

Let's see, I bought tickets
for San Francisco recently.

For $ ?

No, Mr. Stokes,

for that amount you can go much farther.

In fact, it's exactly the price of a one-way,
non-jet, tourist fare to Mexico City.

Well, what of it?
I don't see any reason that--

So isn't it more than coincidence

that my investigators have just located
Al Bender in Mexico City?

[Stokes chuckles]
All right,

so I helped out and old employee
in a tough situation with his wife,

but I had nothing
to do with Bender's appraisal.

You have that reversed, Mr. Stokes.

Bender had nothing to do
with your appraisal.

No-- No, that's a lie.

I should warn you, Mr. Stokes,

that this note handed to me
just moments ago by Mr. Paul Drake

is a copy of a statement
made this morning

by Mr. Al Bender in Mexico City.

Now, aren't you really just blaming
your own falsification of records

on a man you helped run away?

That-- That is ridiculous.

It gave you such a good opportunity
to go along with Corby

in his scheme to get rich quick.

Weren't you Corby's partner?

Hadn't he convinced you
of quick returns and fat profits

if you provided the capital?

That doesn't prove anything.

I didn't--

Don't perjure yourself further, Mr. Stokes.

Last night my investigators

located a druggist near the motel
where you spent the night after the m*rder.

The druggist said
that a man came into his drugstore,

suffering from what was obviously
some form of poisoning.

The druggist gave that man an emetic.

Now, shall we now bring
the druggist into court to identify you?

No.

I mean, there's some mistake.

It was Charlie who was poisoned.

Nobody was trying to poison Charlie Corby.

The poison he took was accidental.

The truth is
Charlie Corby was trying to poison you.

You spent the night in that motel,
not drunk, but sick.

Now, why did Corby try to poison you,
Mr. Stokes?

Because you'd found out
he was double-crossing you?

Why was Corby trying to poison you,
Mr. Stokes?

I told him I couldn't hide
the mortgage any longer.

I had to hand back all of the money,

at least half of it,

so that I could rewrite the loan.

I threatened to tell
everything I knew about him to the police.

He kept stalling.

He wouldn't give me an answer
until we had a drink.

Halfway through my drink
I began to feel sick.

He poisoned me
by dropping pills in my whiskey.

He just sat there grinning,
waiting for me to die.

I switched drinks.

He took a sip...

and then just realized
what had happened.

He got furious.

I picked up the bottle.

I hit him.

[people murmuring]

[Judge taps pencil]

Gentlemen, before entertaining a motion

for dismissal of the charges
against the defendant,

I would like to speak to the bailiff.

Perry, let me see
that statement of Bender's, please.

We'll probably want to bring him up here.

You'll have to catch him first.

You mean there--

there was no statement?

You broke Stokes down on a bluff?

Oh, Bender said something
to one of Paul's operatives...

before he slugged him and ran.

[unfolds paper]

"Tell my ex-wife she can go whistle 'Dixie'.

You can't get alimony out of a stone."

They found the pillbox
in the back of Stokes' car.

He took it out, hid it,

hoping no one would find out
about the poison.

Here comes Momma.

Mrs. Mason, would you mind telling her.

Hello, Perry and Miss Street.

Do you remember, Perry,
on Friday nights sometimes,

you had dinner with us

and how you liked my chicken soup?

I made some for you.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Simms.

Thank you very much.

Mrs. Simms...

about Herbert and the drugstore.

Yes?

I contacted Rod Serling.

He really is a friend of mine.

He read some of Herbert's writings.

I know you're disappointed
about Herbert and the drugstore...

but Mr. Serling thinks he has promise.

He wants to see him, help him get started.

Uh, Perry, about this Mr. Rod Serling,

could I talk to him?

Why?

Well, if he's going to help Herbie,
maybe he could listen to me.

I tell you, after all these years
in this drugstore,

well, there's so many stories.

It's like Grand Central Station.

Let me tell you a for instance.

There was this...