Original subtitles

Help you, sir?

Oh, Ordeal. It's phenomenal, isn't it?

Phenomenal?

Yes. Staying number one

on the bestseller list for so long now.

I understand they've sold it for pictures,

and they're going to adapt it for a play.

It's a story about three American prisoners

in a Korean prison camp.

Yeah, yeah. Here.

Yes, sir. Four ninety-five, plus tax, out of 10.

Sir, your change.

Ahead, Freedom Bells ahead of Down 'n' Out.

It's Freedom Bells a half length, then Down 'n' Out.

It's Freedom Bells and Down 'n' Out.

Across the finish line, it's Freedom Bells,

the winner by a length and a half.

Hello, Harry.

Artie.

Artie Poe.

That's right, Harry.

Artie Poe, back from the dead.

We thought you were dead, Artie.

We thought they got you.

"We?"

Ben Sutton and me.

I know Ben Sutton must have thought so.

What do you know about this?

Heh. Yeah, I heard.

How about Ben writing a book.

He didn't.

What? I did.

That diary I kept all those months.

Oh, yeah.

You mean, this is yours.

But Ben's name.

He took the diary when he thought I was dead.

He published it under his own name.

You haven't heard about it, Harry?

I never read the book.

I haven't seen Ben since before he was married,

couple of years ago.

Artie, where you going?

I found you.

Now, I'm going to find Ben Sutton.

No. You got it all wrong, Art.

I... I heard the shot, saw you fall.

You've got to believe me.

I came back to help.

You came back for my diary.

Oh, I took it, sure.

Why not? I thought you were dead.

No. You thought I was dying.

Fair game.

Well, I was.

The doctors tell me we all are.

Some of us fast and some slow.

Now, look, I... I want to do the right thing.

But right now... It's easy to do the right thing.

All you have to do is call your publisher,

your theatrical agent, your picture agent.

Tell them you stole my property,

and then turn over all the money you stole from me.

I can't.

I'll have to find a way to make it up to you.

And I haven't any money. I'm flat.

But I'll try to get you some.

I'll try to get you 5 or 10,000

to carry you along.

I swear I thought you were dead.

I took the diary... All right, Ben.

You figure out how to handle it.

And I'll take that 10,000...

on account.

Oh.

Sorry, Ben. I didn't know you had company.

It's all right.

Uh... this is Arthur Poe,

Sylvia.

One of the men.

My wife.

One of "the men"?

In the book.

Arthur has an appointment.

Oh.

Well, I hope we see you soon, Mr. Poe.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Sutton.

You're very gracious.

Shall we say tomorrow evening, 10:00?

Excuse me.

Sylvia, I need $10,000.

I haven't got it.

All right. Then I'll have to ask your brother for it.

No.

One or the other.

Ben, you leave Gil alone.

I don't want you making any more demands on him.

Where are you going?

To visit an old friend... first.

Here you are.

Thanks.

Come back again.

Looks like he found you.

Of course he did.

I wasn't hiding.

Like a ghost, he was.

Putting that book down.

You told me he was dead.

I thought he was.

I wouldn't have left him there if I thought he was alive.

Wouldn't you?

I've got to give him $10,000.

That's why you're here.

That's right.

Just give it to you.

Just give it back to me.

Oh, I can't, Ben.

The ponies have been treating me real bad.

Now, you get it.

And get it before the banks close tomorrow.

You don't want this whole thing coming out

any more than I do.

Do you, partner?

Running away won't help.

Sylvia!

Why haven't you spoken

to Gilbert about the 10,000?

As a matter of fact, we did talk it over, Ben.

And weighed all sides of the question, I trust?

There are just so many trips you can make to the well,

old fellow, before it goes dry.

I am in a most precarious position.

I don't even know if the money will help me,

but I've got to have it.

Too bad, but that's the way it is.

Everything I have...

everything my wife had, is in hock.

The whole world's in hock.

You know why?

You, old fellow.

I promise you...

if my world's in ruins...

I'll crash it down around all our heads.

Sylvia. Sylvia.

Gil, I can't.

I can't go on living with him.

I can't.

I tried to stop him from coming here, Gil...

It's all right. It's all right.

My brother, Gilbert... Gilbert Ames

u-used to be pretty wild.

He's married now and settled down,

but... about a year and a half ago,

he was involved in an automobile accident.

The victim was...

badly injured.

Automobile accident?

Yes. Gil hit a pedestrian.

A woman.

Was the accident reported?

No.

And your husband's been using this knowledge

to get money from you.

Yes. How much have you given him?

Fourteen thousand dollars in all.

Gil's given him a considerably larger sum.

Now he wants $10,000 more.

Otherwise, he'll tell the police.

It wasn't Gil's fault, Mr. Mason.

The woman dashed out from between two cars.

There was no way to avoid hitting her.

And we've been more than generous.

W-we paid all of her hospital bills, surgery.

Money every month.

All right.

What can I do for you now?

How can I stop my husband?

By refusing to pay him any more blackmail.

Then what?

You don't know him.

All he can do is to go to the police.

My advice is for you to see them first.

Or for your brother to see them first.

I see.

Mr. Mason, I...

I... I think I'll go to Palm Springs for a day or two.

Get away from the city, Ben,

and... try to get this thing

straightened out in my own mind.

I think that's a good idea.

When you've made your decision,

why, get in touch with me.

I've read her husband's book.

It's a grim book, but told with humor.

A gentle book filled with humanity and warmth...

tragedies all around.

Funny how you can't tell what a man is like

by the way he writes.

Hm.

I'd like to read it.

I'll see that you get a copy.

Good evening.

Hello.

Yes, speaking.

Hello, Marian. What...?

What?

Gil did what?

Killed Ben with the fireplace poker.

He just called from your house.

He said he wasn't coming home,

and that we shouldn't try to find him.

And that he wasn't going to tell the police anything.

D... Don't you tell the police anything either.

I'll think of something.

Nobody knows about this yet, do they?

No.

M-Marian, if Gil calls,

tell him not to say anything to anybody.

Now do you understand that, Marian?

Yes. Yes.

Bless you, Sylvia.

Goodbye.

Tsk.

Hello?

Hey, I want a cab.

Yeah, Seward and Eleanor.

Hm. Make it fast, huh?

Here.

Hey, I can't change this.

Just hang on to it.

I'll be right back as soon as

I take care of what I have to.

Oh! Oh.

What...?

Why don't you look where you're going?

Take me back to Seward Avenue.

Open up.

Mrs. Sylvia Sutton? Yes?

You'll have to come with us.

Where? W-w... What for?

Sheriff's office.

We're holding you for Lieutenant Tragg,

L.A. Homicide.

Cleaning maid saw you take her dress and her bandanna.

She reported it to the clerk.

When Lieutenant Tragg started to check on your whereabouts,

why, it was easy enough to pin you down.

I see.

I'm not very adept at contriving, am I?

You made a pretty good effort.

Were you just trying to confuse the police?

I hoped I could throw suspicion

on a woman who didn't really exist.

Trying to protect your brother again.

Where is he?

I don't know.

Your sister-in-law did say that Gilbert killed him?

Yes.

Mr. Mason, she called me at 7:30.

Now, I didn't even get to my house till after 10:00.

Can't...? Can't they tell when Ben died?

Yes.

Well, then they can't believe I killed him.

Mrs. Sutton...

your husband died just about the time you arrived.

You're sure?

The police crime laboratory is sure.

Well, that proves that Gil didn't kill him.

No.

It only proves that Gilbert didn't kill him at 7:30.

Mr. Mason, will you help us?

The, uh, man you bumped into outside the house.

Arthur Poe.

Did he recognize you?

I don't know.

The woman victim of the accident?

Her name is Kirby.

She lives in Bellflower.

I'll try to help you, Mrs. Sutton.

We'll need to find out all we can about the Kirbys

and the Ames.

All right.

Della, will you come in, please?

Paul, use all the men you need to find Mr. Gilbert Ames.

I also want you to look up a chap

by the name of Arthur Poe.

Can't tell you where to start, except he does have a limp.

Yeah. A decided limp.

He's waiting in the reception room now.

Oh, um, tell him to come in.

You got everything? Mm-hm. Enough to get started.

Check with you later.

Good.

Uh, come in, Mr. Poe.

Mr. Poe, Mr. Mason. Mason.

Uh, check these over for me, will you?

Eh, won't you sit down?

Right over here.

Now, what can I do for you?

I understand that you represent Sylvia Sutton.

I...

Oh, um... have you read Ordeal?

Oh, yes. Why?

It's my book. I wrote it.

You wrote it?

Yes. It was my ordeal.

Ordeal, Mr. Poe?

An ordeal not of dying...

but of being afraid.

The, um... book ends

just as all three men begin their escape.

We, um... We don't know what happens to them.

You are testing me, Mr. Mason.

All right.

If the characters are true...

then what happens to them is inevitable.

The book... my diary...

was written in a Communist prison camp in North Korea.

On the night of the escape,

we'd gotten about a mile from camp.

Uh, you say "we."

Who were the other two?

Ben Sutton and Harry Wilson.

He runs a cigar store downtown.

Go on, Mr. Poe.

Well, Harry had gotten a little ahead of us.

Patrol caught up with Ben and me, and I was hit.

You were recaptured?

Yes. I was in solitary confinement for three years

and imprisoned in China for several more.

And what about the diary?

Well, I, uh...

I thought the Communists had destroyed it.

It was a pretty big shock, Mr. Mason, to...

see that book in a bookstore window.

So then you went looking for Ben Sutton.

Yes.

Mrs. Sutton said she met you at their house

night before last.

Yes, that's right.

She said you promised to return to the house last night

about 10:00.

I did return. Only it was a little after 10.

Uh, what were you returning to the Sutton house for?

Oh, Ben was to have figured out the best way

to, um... handle the situation.

I see.

And without his confession that Ordeal was stolen from you,

you may have some difficulty

in proving authorship.

Yes.

Oh, uh, what about this, uh, third party?

I talked with Harry this morning.

In return for remembering that I wrote Ordeal,

he wants one-third of my future and $25,000 in advance.

What is your object in coming to see me?

To ask you to help me establish ownership of Ordeal.

My, uh...

sympathies are with you...

but there's a possibility of a conflict of interest.

Yes, yes, I understand. But let me explain.

There's one indisputable way I can prove authorship.

And that is?

The diary, in my handwriting. If Ben kept it.

Now, I realize that Mrs. Sutton

might be loath to admit its existence,

if she has possession of it,

since I would have a claim

against her husband's estate.

Most people are honest, Mr. Poe.

Forgive me...

but I have found that most people can resist

anything except temptation.

So will you assure Mrs. Sutton...

that I will relinquish any pecuniary claim

in return for the recognition to which I'm entitled.

Thank you.

Tassel, and the morning line will read:

Demagogue, ten. Saint Jo, eight.

Black Bart, three and a half.

Princelet, two and a half... Be with you in a second.

Six. Playbill, 20. Decatur, five...

My name is Mason, Mr. Wilson.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.

Well, I know very few answers, Mr. Mason.

When was the last time you saw Ben Sutton?

Couple of years ago.

I understand he played the horses too.

Did he? I wouldn't know.

Who wrote Ordeal, Mr. Wilson?

Ben Sutton or Arthur Poe?

Oh, I see you talked to Artie.

He's been after me to make some kind of a statement about that.

Fine. If it'll help him...

and me.

Fine. I'd be glad to.

But you wouldn't if it wouldn't help you.

If you see Artie, tell him he had me pegged in the book.

I'm the realist,

out for the buck.

He did write it then.

Oh, sure.

Just between us, of course.

No.

No, I haven't heard from him.

You do want to help your sister-in-law,

don't you, Mrs. Ames?

Yes, of course, if I can.

You know, it just doesn't seem likely to me that Gilbert

would have disappeared without calling on you

from time to time.

Without trying to get in touch with you in some way.

He called me just that one time.

Tell me exactly what he said.

I can't really remember.

Didn't he say that he had killed Ben Sutton

with a fireplace poker?

I don't remember, Mr. Mason.

He was very excited.

He could have said that Ben was killed with the fireplace poker,

not that he had killed him.

Anyway, Ben didn't die from the fireplace poker.

He died from a blow with a bottle.

When you phoned to Palm Springs,

precisely what did you tell your sister-in-law?

I don't remember, Mr. Mason.

I might have said something that Sylvia misunderstood.

What did you do after the call to Sylvia?

Nothing.

I stayed right here.

Why?

Didn't you go to the Sutton home?

No.

Mrs. Ames...

exactly what was your relationship with Ben Sutton?

No relationship. I hated him.

Why are you asking me all these questions, Mr. Mason?

What are you getting at?

Are you trying to make it seem as though I killed Ben?

Or that Gil did?

I'm trying to get at the truth.

Now, why is Gilbert in hiding?

You must know. He's trying to protect his sister.

What else could it be?

It could be that he's trying to protect you, Mrs. Ames.

The closest estimate I can make on the amount

of Benjamin Sutton's earnings during the past two years

is $225,000.

That seems ample.

You're so right.

However, it gets whittled down some

with taxes, agents' fees and living expenses.

But still leave a substantial amount.

It's almost inconceivable

that he would be hard-pressed for $10,000.

And, of course, that is not counting

the money he took from his wife

and his brother-in-law, Gilbert Ames.

That was blackmail.

What have you got on the accident?

Was it hit-and-run? Mm-hm. Technically.

Only because they didn't report it.

However, Mrs. Kirby has been receiving

this $500 money order every month.

What did the accident do to her?

Paralyzed her.

And incidentally, there won't be any more operations.

Celia Kirby is never going to get any better.

She's permanently paralyzed from the waist down.

And I guess that's why Mr. Kirby

decided to unburden himself.

About what, Paul?

He said he wasn't gonna take any more money

from either Mrs. Sutton or Mr. Ames.

He said he never wanted the money anyway,

except that his wife needed it for the operations.

And now that there aren't gonna be any more operations,

he doesn't care if the whole world knows:

It was not Gilbert Ames who struck his wife.

It wasn't?

Who was it then?

Your client struck her, Perry.

Then Sylvia Sutton wasn't protecting her brother.

Her brother, Gil, was protecting her.

So it would seem.

And Ben Sutton was blackmailing Sylvia.

Paul...

I'm not sure we want Gilbert Ames found now.

You better call off your men.

All right.

Hello.

Speaking.

Oh, I see.

Okay. Thanks a lot.

It's too late, Perry.

Gilbert Ames has been found...

by Lieutenant Tragg.

Upon examination of the body of the deceased,

w-we found bits of crystal embedded in the skull.

Uh, these came from the shattered decanter.

Unconsciousness was, uh, instantaneous.

Death within, uh, five to ten minutes.

And what was the time of death, doctor?

Between 9:30 and 10:30

on the evening of Wednesday, October 14th.

Thank you, doctor. Your witness.

Doctor, was the fatal wound the only blow?

No. The skin had been broken at the hairline

above the left eye

by, uh, some hard, blunt instrument.

A fireplace poker, perhaps?

It could have been a poker.

Was this wound serious?

Probably caused unconsciousness, but it, uh, wasn't fatal.

Do you have any idea what time

the blow could have been inflicted?

Two or three hours prior to death, I'd say.

Thank you, doctor. That'll be all.

I call Miss Croft to the stand, please.

And will you tell us what you saw

on the night of October 14th?

Well, I saw her...

That one. Uh, the defendant.

Making off with my dress and scarf.

Uh, of course, I only got a glimpse of the dress,

but, uh, I really saw the scarf.

There's no mistaking it.

And she was shoving it in her pocket

as she hurried down the stairs.

And then what did you do, Miss Croft?

Well, I reported it. That's what.

And I must say, it gave me a great deal of pleasure too.

After 33 years at this kind of work,

it's the first time that a cleaning woman

ever accused a guest of stealing.

Ah. Yes, I see what you mean.

Now, I show you this dress and this scarf.

I ask if you can identify them for us.

Sure.

That's them.

Mine.

I had an appointment with Ben Sutton.

I arrived a little late.

A taxi was idling at the curb, and as I started up the walk,

why, a woman ran from the house and bumped into me.

And how was this woman dressed?

Well, she was wearing a, um, green print dress

and a scarf, or, um, bandanna.

I show you now...

this scarf and this dress,

marked Exhibits G and H,

and I ask if you recognize them.

Yes. They look like the articles worn

by the woman who bumped into me.

I see.

Go on, Mr. Poe. What happened next?

Well, I went up to the door and rang the bell,

but received no response.

She'd left the door unlocked, so I went in, found Ben Sutton,

and then called the police.

And what time was that?

About a quarter after 10.

Thank you, sir.

Your witness.

Now, Mr. Poe...

what was the purpose of your visit with Ben Sutton?

We were to discuss how Ben would handle

the rather, um, delicate question

of acknowledging that the book Ordeal

had been written not by him...

but by me.

What was the condition of the room

in which the body was found?

The living room?

It was a shambles.

As though there had been a fight of some kind?

Well, yes, but, uh, not entirely.

As though someone had been searching for something?

Well, I'm not a detective, Mr. Mason,

but it would appear that way to me.

Cabinet drawers were pulled open,

the contents scattered.

Uh, pillows thrown around the room.

That sort of thing.

Thank you, Mr. Poe.

That'll be all.

Stand down, Mr. Poe.

Now, lieutenant, I call your attention

to the hem of this dress, Exhibit G,

and to the stain thereon.

I ask you if this stain

was subjected to laboratory analysis.

Yes it was. It's a bloodstain.

Oh, was it determined whether or not it's a bloodstain

of the same type as that of the defendant?

No.

Is it the same blood type as that of Miss Croft,

who owned this dress? No. No, sir.

Well, what is then

the significance of this bloodstain, lieutenant?

It's the same blood type as the deceased's.

Thank you, lieutenant.

Your witness.

Lieutenant...

the murder weapon introduced earlier

is this cut-glass liquor decanter,

is it not? Yes.

Lieutenant, if you were going to swing this decanter

at someone, how would you hold it?

Well, by the neck.

You mean here?

Of course.

But there were no fingerprints found at this point, however,

were there?

No. Defendant's prints were found

on some of the large pieces from the lower part.

What else was found in the murder room?

An unfired .38-caliber revolver on the floor.

Did you have an examination made of the carpet near the body?

Yes. What did you find?

Well, we found, uh, bloodstains

and, uh, traces of liquor.

Then apparently this decanter was full of liquor

when it struck the deceased.

Yes.

Now, lieutenant...

I ask whether Exhibit G,

the, uh, green print dress, was tested for liquor.

Yes, it was. And we found no trace of it.

Uh, don't you think it a strange circumstance,

lieutenant... that, uh...

if the defendant did break a full decanter of liquor,

that not one drop of it would have splashed on her?

Well, it is improbable.

But it could happen that way.

Thank you, lieutenant. That will be all.

Stand down, lieutenant.

I call Mr. Alan Kirby, please.

And while it was her own fault

that the accident happened...

it was against the law not reporting it.

In that brief second before the car hit...

Object, Your Honor.

On the basis that this is not best evidence.

Is Mrs. Kirby available?

Your Honor, Mrs. Kirby is

paralyzed from the waist down.

It would work a severe hardship on her

to have to bring her to court.

However, the prosecution does have

an affidavit from Mrs. Kirby, if...

Mr. Mason?

For the purposes of this hearing,

defense will accept an affidavit.

Very well.

Clerk will read the affidavit.

Dated "Friday, October the 16th."

"On the day of March the 14th of this year,

"I was struck by a green convertible car

"on Mill Drive, near Wilshire Boulevard.

"The driver of the car was a woman whose name

I subsequently learned was Sylvia Sutton."

Now, Mr. Ames. By your continued reluctance to testify,

you are being considered a hostile witness.

The prosecutor may ask you leading questions.

You will answer to the best of your ability

on pain of contempt of court.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Mr. Ames...

in subsequent conversations

with Ben Sutton, the deceased,

didn't he mention your sister, the defendant?

Yes, of course he mentioned her.

As a matter of fact, didn't Ben Sutton tell you

that if your sister asked him for a divorce,

he would reveal the details of her hit-and-run accident?

Yes.

All right.

Now, Mr. Ames...

at approximately 7:30 on the night of October 14th,

didn't you phone your wife

and tell her that Ben Sutton was dead, murdered?

Yes.

Why did you find it necessary

to leave town, Mr. Ames?

I...

I was afraid I'd be blamed.

Isn't it a fact that you were afraid your sister

had killed Ben Sutton,

and you left town to avoid being questioned about it?

Object.

Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.

Your witness.

Um, before I proceed, Your Honor,

among the spectators there's a prospective witness.

I ask that this person be removed from the courtroom

during my cross-examination

of Gilbert Ames.

Uh, to whom do you refer, counselor?

Uh, Mrs. Marian Ames.

Bailiff will escort Mrs. Ames out of the courtroom.

Uh, Mr. Ames...

you testified that you called your wife

at approximately 7:30.

Yes.

You had examined Benjamin Sutton

and mistaken him for dead.

You told your wife that you had killed him,

that you were not going to the police,

that you were going into hiding.

It wasn't exactly like that.

Well, how was it?

I was very excited.

I-I did think Ben was dead.

The poker was close by, and he didn't seem to be breathing.

So I... I called my wife

and said Ben had been killed.

Then your wife misunderstood you.

Well, as I said, I might not have been coherent.

It was a shock to me.

Now, uh...

how did you get into your sister's house?

Was the door open?

No. I... I have a key.

And what was your purpose in going there?

I...

I wanted to have a talk with Ben.

About what?

He was...

He was threatening Sylvia and me with exposure...

about the accident with Mrs. Kirby.

All right.

Now you were inside the house.

Was the murder room disturbed?

Was there any evidence of a search?

No.

Now, we've heard testimony here today

that you left the murder room at 7:30,

and it bore no evidence of a search.

Yet a few minutes after 10:00...

Arthur Poe entered the room,

and it did bear evidence of a search.

Now, how do you account for that?

Well, it would seem someone was there

in between those times.

Could it have been your wife?

No. How could you be so sure?

What about before you arrived?

Couldn't she have gone...? Your Honor.

I object to this line of questioning.

It's argumentative.

It calls for a conclusion of the witness.

Sustained.

I, um...

I'm finished with this witness.

I call Mrs. Marian Ames.

Bailiff, Mrs. Ames.

You may stand down.

I called her in Palm Springs.

I said Gilbert had called me and told me

that Ben Sutton had been murdered.

And what did she say?

She said not to say anything to anybody,

and... that she'd take care of it.

Now, Mrs. Ames...

between 7:30 and 10:00 on the night of the murder,

were you in the Sutton home at all?

No.

Thank you, Mrs. Ames. That'll be all.

Cross-examine.

Mrs. Ames... I'm going to ask you a few questions,

uh, pertaining to the telephone conversation

you had with your husband

on the night of the murder.

Now...

did he say that he had murdered Ben Sutton?

No. I-I misunderstood him.

I was terribly upset. I'm sorry.

Did he say that he was going to remain in hiding

because he was worried over the questions

the police might ask you?

About me?

Did he say that?

Gil.

Answer the question, please.

Yes.

I told him I didn't do anything,

but he didn't take the time to listen. He hung up.

Then you deliberately lied to the defendant

when you called her that night in Palm Springs.

Yes. I... I wanted her home.

I was afraid.

Why did your husband think that you had struck Ben Sutton

with that fireplace poker?

Why, Mrs. Ames?

Because I had been to the house earlier.

For what reason?

To talk to Ben.

Earlier when?

About 5:00.

Well, what happened?

Nothing. He didn't even know I was there.

I-I mean there was some talk going on in the study.

I... heard voices and looked in.

I realized he was busy, and...

Besides, my courage was just about gone,

so I turned around and went away.

What were you going to talk to Mr. Sutton about?

Must I?

No, Mrs. Ames.

Thank you. That will be all.

Uh, just a moment, Mrs. Ames.

I have a few questions on redirect.

If it please the court.

Mrs. Ames...

this conversation that you overheard in the study?

What was it about?

Well, I only heard a few words.

Something about royalties and plays and...

And what?

And that he wouldn't have to put up with...

With Sylvia anymore.

Uh, who was talking, uh, Mrs. Ames?

Ben Sutton.

And to whom was he talking?

Well, I don't know him by name,

but...

that's him sitting right over there.

Thank you, Mrs. Ames. I think that will be all.

I have no other questions.

Then I call Harry Wilson to the stand, please.

Step down, please, Mrs. Ames.

Mr. Wilson, what specifically did Ben Sutton tell you

on the afternoon of the murder?

He said his wife was trying to get rid of him,

and he wouldn't let her go.

Because she had an income from a trust.

What else?

Well, the reason he had a hold on her

was because she'd been in an accident

and hadn't reported it to the police.

Go on, Mr. Wilson.

Well, Ben wasn't above using anybody he could

to get what he wanted.

Put pressure on the whole family:

his wife's brother, sister-in-law.

He was begging for a faceful of glass, you ask me.

I don't blame his wife a bit... That's all. That's all.

Thank you very much, Mr. Wilson. Your witness.

Now, Mr. Wilson...

what was the purpose

of your visit to Mr. Sutton that afternoon?

Just to have a chat.

But surely not about his wife?

Something about books and royalties,

wasn't it?

We mentioned the book.

Didn't you and Ben Sutton talk about its adaptation

into a Broadway play...

and the ensuing royalties,

which would have made him

independent of his wife forever?

Yeah, he did mention something like that.

Wasn't he making you an offer, Mr. Wilson?

Yeah.

What was it?

He wanted me to back him up.

He was gonna bull it through

that he was the author of Ordeal.

If I said so too, then Artie Poe couldn't prove otherwise.

And you accepted his offer?

Yeah. MASON: And went directly home.

That's it.

And why did you return later on?

What?

I didn't.

You play the horses, Mr. Wilson?

It's my only vice.

How much would you estimate that you have lost

in the last two years?

At least $5,000.

I think it only fair to tell you, Mr. Wilson,

that I have information concerning your losses

in excess of $100,000...

in cash.

Now, where did you get all that money?

I gambled.

I won it gambling.

You were gambling with the law, Mr. Wilson.

Not with money.

I'm afraid you lost.

You've got it wrong.

Ben Sutton's income from that book was more than $200,000.

Yet he was continually broke.

Uh, someone was draining him.

Was that someone you?

No.

Wasn't that the reason you returned to his house

between 8:00 and 10:00 on the night of the murder?

No. Why should I go back there?

There's some little mystery

about the...

murder room being ransacked, Mr. Wilson.

What's that got to do with me?

I believe there was something in that room that you wanted.

Something that you found.

What?

The diary.

What diary?

The diary that proved who wrote Ordeal.

Could have been anybody going back for that.

Anybody who knew about the diary.

That means only three people:

Ben Sutton, Arthur Poe and you.

Wasn't Sutton because he already had it.

It wasn't Arthur Poe, because he came to my office

the next morning, and wanted me to find it for him.

Well it wasn't me.

Wasn't it?

When Poe talked to you the morning after the murder...

didn't you ask him for a third of his future.

Meaning, a third of his income

from then on?

Now you're getting into something else.

And didn't you demand a $25,000 advance?

Pretty stiff terms for your support, Mr. Wilson.

Unless you had the diary in your possession

to back your demands.

Okay.

I did go back.

You did.

I saw Ben lying out there cold on the floor.

I, uh, figured this was a pretty good chance

to get my hands on that diary.

What time was that?

I don't know.

Nine, 9:30.

The coroner set the time of death

as between 9:30 and 10:30.

Now, why don't you make it 9:30?

Oh, no.

Oh, no, I didn't kill him.

But you're a realist, just out for a buck.

And you didn't kill him?

No, I didn't.

Sure, I was there, and I took the diary.

And I took all that money from him.

And I was blackmailing him, and...

Your Honor, the district attorney's office

would be interested in looking into this.

Oh, now, wait.

Now, wait a minute.

Look... I'll go over it all again.

I'll tell you the whole thing again, so you'll understand.

I didn't kill him.

He was lying there.

I didn't kill him.

I didn't kill him!

I didn't kill him! I didn't! I didn't!

Bailiff.

Come in.

Hello, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Poe.

You're writing?

Yes.

It must be difficult to find the right phrase

to tell the publisher

that you were the author of Ordeal.

Yes, I guess so.

Of course, uh...

you were the one that hit Sutton with that poker.

How do you know that?

Well, if Sutton and Harry Wilson had cooked up a scheme...

and Sutton had told you flatly

that he would not acknowledge you

as the author of Ordeal...

That's very astute.

There was a fight.

I'm ashamed to say I lost my temper.

I'm... somewhat handicapped.

I guess training makes you seize the nearest weapon.

The poker, of course.

And, um... then you left him

and, uh...

went away.

Yes.

Why did you go back?

I wasn't sure whether the poker had killed him or not.

And you couldn't leave him there dying...

as he left you to die in Korea.

He had regained consciousness?

Yes.

And he attacked you.

I guess he realized that no amount of collusion

could hide the truth.

He was intent on murder, Mr. Mason.

What happened?

He pulled a gun out of a drawer.

I managed to knock it out of his hand with my cane.

As he lunged for the gun...

not being as agile as I used to be...

there was only one thing to do.

I grabbed the whisky decanter and threw it at him.

That explains the unfired gun.

Then I heard Mrs. Sutton's taxi drive up,

so I went out the back, circled around to the front,

as if to keep my 10:00 appointment.

And as if you had no conscience at all,

you sat there in that courtroom while that same Mrs. Sutton

was being tried for a crime you'd committed.

So your ordeal isn't over, is it?

Yes, it's over.

I would never have allowed her to be convicted.

You see, Mr. Mason, I've come to terms with fear.

I'm living here at the hospital

because I only have a short time left.

Maybe... six months.

That's why money meant nothing to you.

You just wanted recognition.

I guess a man's vanity goes with him right to the end.

It was self-defense.