Original subtitles

Hello. Anybody home?

Please. Inside there. I need help.

What the devil do you want?

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

Sorry too, but I can't help you.

Please, mister. Have a heart.

Just... Just let me use your telephone.

I haven't either a heart or a telephone,

so I suggest you...

I guess you'd better step inside after all.

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

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

As though you recognized me or something?

I thought maybe I did.

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

the man I was supposed to meet?

I hardly think so.

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

The lady novelist?

Don't tell me you're Mauvis Meade?

No, I'm her secretary,

Gladys Doyle.

I was supposed to pick up a package for her

from a man in a cabin somewhere up here.

Isn't 3 in the morning

an odd time to be running errands...

even for lady novelists?

Well, not for Mauvis Meade.

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

I'd be home by now.

You never found the cabin you were looking for?

No. I had a map.

But it was raining so hard,

all I found was a mudhole...

and you and a case of pneumonia.

Why don't you use the bedroom

and strip off as much as you think advisable,

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

Well, what about my car?

I'll take a look at it

as soon as it begins to get light.

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

Whew.

Boy, I must look like a mess.

Hair like a wet mop and a face like...

Hey. Where are you?

Oh, no.

Oh.

I always wondered where you kept your valuables, Mauvis.

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

Too late, my eye.

I know who did this, Gregory. You.

Oh, my dear. I'm a lawyer.

I may break wills and contracts,

but hardly ever into the apartments of clients,

even if they leave keys in the lock.

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

I deny that.

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

They're all gone now.

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

the photostats, the photographs. All the little things

you like to use for insurance policies, Mauvis.

I'll get more.

Do you really think that would be wise?

Ah, you know something, Gregory?

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

writing for the confession magazines...

I used to dream of this...

This, uh...

This lovely apartment...

bestselling novel, huge motion-picture sale,

fame, money...

to burn.

Now I'd give just about anything

to be that mousy hack again.

Which, of course, is exactly what you would be

if you hadn't met me.

That was my unlucky day.

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

This mess to the maids and the apartment manager?

Burglars, I suppose.

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

So before you do, I'll just take

that package and clear out.

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

Why not?

Well, because, uh...

Because something happened, and I...

That's Gladys.

Your secretary?

Get rid of her, will you?

Oh. I know it's only 8:00, Miss Meade,

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

What in the world happened?

I don't know. Thieves, I guess.

I just got here myself.

Look, what in the world happened to you?

And where's the package?

Well, I never found the right cabin.

First, I got lost.

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

And then I found a dead man.

A dead man?

In a cabin I went to for help.

He'd been shot. I...

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

or whether someone else had.

Well, what did this man look like?

Well, he was a dark man...

in his forties.

An attractive man, Miss Meade.

He... He looked like one of those men

you'd see hanging around gambling joints or...

Or nightclubs.

What did you do when you found him?

I got out of there, fast.

You notify the police?

You're the first one I've told.

Gladys, let me have this from the beginning.

Well, I left the Summit Inn

at a quarter past 12,

just like you told me.

And I went to that road.

Dukes Lawton, please.

Gregory Dunkirk. Tell him it's important.

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

but all I could think about

was getting as far away from there as I could.

Well, the package will keep.

Well, what should I do about the body?

Well, my first thought is to forget about it.

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

and then we'll discuss the pros and cons.

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

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

And you, uh...

You'd better get yourself some breakfast too.

That was Joseph Manley she was describing...

wasn't it?

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

My tears are for the package.

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

Oh, I've already made arrangements

to find out about that.

Now, good morning, Perry.

Why, sure. We work hand in glove

with the county authorities.

A body? Where?

Yes, I know the Summit Inn.

Scenic shortcut to the main highway.

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

The cabin on the right, going up.

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

Through a client, lieutenant.

Ah. Professional privilege.

Well, we'll look into it.

Yeah.

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

Did you want me, Perry?

Oh, yes, Paul.

Miss Doyle, this is Paul Drake.

The Drake Detective Agency.

How do you do, Miss Doyle? Hello.

Paul, Miss Doyle is employed by Mauvis Meade,

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

Yesterday, Miss Meade

sent her to the Summit Inn,

to substitute for Miss Meade

in an interview with a writer named Edgar Carlisle,

who apparently is connected with Screentime Magazine.

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

Well, after the interview,

and still following her employer's instructions...

she left the Summit Inn a little after midnight

for a cabin, where she was to meet a man

who had a package for Miss Meade.

Only I got lost and then stuck.

While she was trying to find her way,

she came across a lighted cabin.

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

And was it the right cabin?

Oh. We're not sure.

While she was there, the young fellow vanished.

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

a revolver on the floor beside him.

Homicide?

Well, Tragg will have to determine that.

In the meantime, send one of

your men up to the cabin.

Check over everything up there:

ownership, the people who visited there...

and the identity of the dead man.

All right.

And have a check run on Mauvis Meade.

Well, if she's anything like the picture

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

Have you read the book?

No, but I hear it's pretty sexy.

And the scoop is that the main plot,

about some bigtime tax-dodging operators,

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

Gregory Dunkirk.

The lawyer?

Have a thorough check run on him.

Perry... with Dunkirk's underworld connections,

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

Hm.

So am I. So get going.

Yes?

My name is Mason.

Yes?

Mr. Carlisle here?

Mr. Carlisle?

Edgar Carlisle. He writes for Screentime Magazine.

Edgar used to work for Screentime Magazine.

He doesn't now?

Oh, no. Edgar's dead.

Dead?

You must have read it in the obituary columns.

This morning?

Oh, no. Edgar passed on two months ago

after a long illness.

I didn't know.

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

Miss Carlisle. Edgar was my brother.

Seem to have spent Sunday

being interviewed by a dead man, Miss Doyle.

But he told me his name was Edgar Carlisle.

And so did Miss Meade.

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

Never occurred to me that you were.

I don't care what you're selling!

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

or Edgar Carlisle, or anyone else.

All I'm asking is $1,000, Miss Meade.

Surely the information...

It isn't worth a penny.

I don't wanna get mixed up in this.

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

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

Did you hear me?

I told you to get out of here.

Now, get out.

Get out. Get out!

Please. Please. N... N-n-no violence. Please.

Get out!

Terrible woman, terrible temper.

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

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

You, uh, dropped this, Miss Meade.

I threw it...

at an obnoxious little man

who was trying to sell me something.

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

My name is Perry Mason.

Oh, yeah.

Retained by Gladys Doyle.

Well, come in.

Come in, Mr. Mason.

Uh... please sit down.

Can I get you a drink?

Oh, it's a...

trifle early for me.

Ha.

Me too, except on days

when people ransack my apartment.

I suppose Gladys told you?

Anything of value missing?

Mm-mm.

No, just some, uh, clothes

and some costume jewelry.

Luckily, I had my real jewels with me.

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

to chide me, Mr. Mason.

I may just burst into tears.

Chide you for what, Miss Meade?

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

dead man she claims to have found.

Why do you say "claims to have found"?

Don't you believe her?

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

and she went to some, uh,

cabin or cottage or whatever

to, uh, ask somebody for help.

But I'm sure the, uh,

corpse was merely

some man asleep.

On the floor? With a revolver beside him?

Um, you believe her if you want to.

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

You're, um...

an attractive man, Mr. Mason.

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

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

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

Oh. Oh, yeah. I forgot.

It was, uh...

Gladys who brought you here,

not my charms.

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

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

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

Package? I didn't ask her

to pick up any package.

Did she say I did?

Let me ask you something else

before I answer that.

Did you, uh...

send Miss Doyle to the Summit Inn yesterday?

Yes. To keep an appointment with a writer

who wanted to do a story on me.

You never saw Edgar Carlisle in person?

No. He telephoned. And when I told him

that I usually spent my weekends at the Inn,

he agreed to meet me there.

Only I sent Gladys.

She also says you gave her instructions

to leave the inn after midnight...

take a back road to a cabin,

and, there, pick up a package.

Well, now, Gladys' imagination

seems to be working overtime.

You didn't dictate

instructions to Miss Doyle,

mentioning the package, and giving her directions,

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

and marked its location?

I told her about a shortcut

from the inn to the highway...

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

But there were no cabins, I assure you.

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

Yes, I would like to see that map.

Any luck?

It's around somewhere.

Ah. There it is.

What are you doing, Mr. Mason?

Just checking for wet ink.

I went as far as the door with her,

and then I went back to the drugstore

to pick up a few things she'd forgotten.

And when I went back, I...

I rang and I knocked.

And no answer?

She just wasn't there, Perry.

Uh. I knocked loud enough to wake a riveter.

You suppose we should call the police?

Oh. Afternoon, Della, Perry.

Oh, hello, Tragg.

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

Well, as a matter of fact, there's

something I can do for you.

Tell you some news.

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

They were there, all right.

Just where you said they'd be.

Was it homicide?

Well, the man was shot three times.

Have you identified the body?

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

Oh, well, I can't.

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

But this has become a far more serious matter

than it was at first.

I'm sure of that...

but at the moment, I still prefer not to say

what my client knows or does not know.

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

Gladys Doyle?

Yes.

I wish I could say that I unearthed her,

but I can't.

The credit goes to the Burglary detail.

Yes.

Hold on a minute, Paul.

I don't follow you, Tragg.

Well, it's all very simple.

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

the first people you talk to are...

Are maids and secretaries, and the like.

So the officers went to Miss Doyle's apartment.

When they began to question her

about the muddy clothes she had on,

she told them about the body she'd found.

So they took her downtown?

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

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

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

counselor.

Booked? What could they possibly book her for?

My guess would be...

murder.

Did I hear you tell Paul to hold on?

Mm-hm. He has to talk to you.

Hello, Paul.

Good work. Has he a family?

Oh, we'll both go.

I'll meet you downstairs.

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

He's a gambler working for the Whispering Sands Motel

in Las Vegas.

Paul and I are gonna fly up there

to talk to his wife before the police do.

See you later.

You didn't give me much...

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

Just keep your back towards me.

Where's Mason?

Uh, h-he's out of town.

Are you his secretary?

Yes.

Then take this for him.

No, you don't.

Tell him it used to belong to Mauvis Meade.

Operator, uh, please get me

the Whispering Sands Hotel in Las Vegas.

Yes, please.

Mrs. Manley?

Yes? My name's Drake.

I'm trying to locate your husband.

Well, he's off on a trip.

Trip? Where?

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

Look, I can't talk to you here.

I'm supposed to be working.

Hm. You are working, Mrs. Manley.

At least to the extent of one silver dollar.

Uh, two silver dollars.

Why all the interest in my husband?

We do some insurance work, Mrs. Manley.

We believe he's the Joseph Manley

who witnessed an accident

last night near the Summit Inn.

Uh, hit me, lightly.

I'll stand.

The, um...

Summit Inn in California?

That's right.

That can't be Joseph.

He's in Arizona on business.

Goes there every weekend.

I'll pay 20.

I was led to believe that, uh,

he was employed here.

Part-time. Like me.

Part-time by...

some other people.

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

Excuse me.

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

Joe's dead.

Some woman killed him.

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

It was on the radio.

But...

those men said Joe saw an accident last night...

What men?

Those insurance men.

Insurance...

Viola, those men aren't insurance men.

You... You'd better go.

Who was that, Mrs. Manley?

My brother, Caspar.

He told me something...

you've apparently known all along.

That my husband is dead.

Mrs. Manley, I'm sorry about this.

But we do have a legitimate reason for being here.

You see, I'm an attorney.

I'm representing the young woman

who supposedly...

killed your husband.

Caspar didn't tell me her name.

Gladys Doyle.

Gladys Doyle?

Gladys Doyle?

Do you know her?

No. I-I...

I never heard of her.

Oh, you made good time, Paul.

Hi, Pete.

Pete Kelton, Mr. Mason, Miss Street.

Kelton's the operative who identified Manley.

Any leads as to...

how he happened to be killed up here?

Well, folks in the area

say he was a regular weekend visitor.

Oh?

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

or someone else did.

The owner's a man named Findlay.

But he and his wife are on a vacation

down in Lower California somewhere.

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

I wasn't intending to go inside.

When I spoke to Gladys this morning,

after she'd been charged...

she, um, told me something else

about Mauvis Meade's instructions.

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

she was to look for the package in a coffee can

under the porch roof.

Let's see.

This looks like a coffee can.

Should've been empty.

It's a woman's scarf.

And some .32-caliber shells.

Well, Manley was killed with a .32.

Well, that isn't the important thing.

That's the monkey scarf Mauvis Meade was wearing

when she was photographed

for the back cover of her book.

Mm-hm.

This was my favorite scarf.

At least at the time this picture was taken.

Do you still have the scarf?

Why?

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

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

Oh. Huh.

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

It's a...

A one-of-a-kind item.

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

Why don't you ask her where it is?

I did. She said she never had it.

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

that there's often no relation between the truth

and what Gladys says.

Oh, now, I feel sorry for her,

with all this trouble, but she asked for it.

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

about my monkey scarf?

Or is that just an excuse to talk to me?

I did want to ask you one question.

When you reported what was missing

after your apartment had been ransacked,

didn't you forget one thing?

Didn't you forget to include a bulky envelope

you once showed Miss Doyle, marked:

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

An envelope you kept in here?

That will be enough, Mason.

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

You'd be, uh, Gregory Dunkirk.

That's correct. And as Mauvis' attorney,

I suggest you comply with her wishes and leave.

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

A bodyguard... and a...

A lawyer. Mm.

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

But since you do have a lawyer,

I'll be only too happy to defer my questions

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

while you're under oath.

Now, referring to this .32-caliber revolver

found in the murder cabin and introduced in evidence

as People's Exhibit C:

When this weapon was tested in the police laboratory,

were you present, by any chance, Lieutenant Tragg?

Yes, Mr. Burger, I was.

Well, as a result of the ballistic tests,

we were able to report

that the slugs found in the deceased's body

were fired from that revolver. I see.

Now, in addition to this revolver,

what was found in the murder room?

Well, fingerprints of the defendant were found

on the, uh, footboard of the bed,

on the, uh, panels of the door.

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

in the other bedroom.

I show you these various items

and ask if you can identify them for us.

Yes, sir. They've been marked.

I call your attention to this tube of toothpaste.

Yes, in searching the defendant's

apartment in town,

we found a tube of the same make.

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

Yes, sir. Two brunette hairs were found

in the teeth of the comb.

Laboratory tests proved that they came from the head

of the, uh...

defendant...

Miss Gladys Doyle.

Did you leave those things there? No.

Now, lieutenant, what else did you find

among the effects left behind in the other bedroom?

The letter...

that starts, "Dearest sweetheart..."

Ah, yes. Never mind, uh, lieutenant.

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

you're referring to.

Yes, sir. It has my initials on it.

And what can you tell this court about the letter?

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

and one clear print of an index finger

that, uh, belonged to the defendant.

Uh, what about the handwriting, lieutenant?

Yes, sir. Three experts are presently engaged

in identifying the handwriting.

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

Well, inasmuch as we found

the fingerprints of the, uh, deceased

on the letter paper,

and the name, Joe, as a signature,

they are testing the handwriting

against the handwriting of the deceased.

I see. If it please the court,

I should like these items that I've just mentioned

entered in evidence and marked as exhibits for the state.

Uh, no objection, Your Honor.

Yes, I own that cabin.

Along with a dozen or so others I rent out.

Well, would you tell us, please,

when and to whom you last rented

the particular cabin

we've been discussing?

Well, a little over a year ago,

a woman telephoned me at my office.

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

wanted to know what the rental was.

I told her $100 a month.

And she took it.

Well, did you know this woman's name?

Yes. Gladys Doyle.

And did you ever see this woman?

No. She just kept mailing me the rent,

first of every month,

in an envelope

containing a single $100 bill.

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

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

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

I've had clients like this before.

People wanting to use my cabins

for, uh...

Well, as, uh, love nests,

so to speak.

Love nests. Really.

To you, counselor.

Mr. Findlay...

concerning this monthly rental you spoke of.

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

Nothing except a postmark. Los Angeles.

And as to the, um...

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

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

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

No, sir, I wouldn't.

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

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

A week ago last Friday.

Were you subsequently requested by appropriate authority

to view his body for purposes of identifying him?

The following Tuesday here in Los Angeles.

It was Joe's body.

My husband, Joseph Manley.

Thank you, Mrs. Manley.

Cross-examine.

Mrs. Manley,

before your husband died,

did he ever mention the name of Gladys Doyle?

No, never.

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

Mauvis Meade?

No.

Did your brother ever mention the name Mauvis Meade?

Caspar?

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

Thank you, Mrs. Manley.

The witness may stand down.

Now... your name is Mauvis Meade,

and you are the author of a current bestseller

called Chop the Man Down. Is that correct?

I am.

Are you acquainted with the defendant?

Yes. She was my secretary.

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

to interrupt this for a moment

for the purposes of having a short conference?

Of course, Mr. Burger.

Perry. That's Paul's man

who was at the cabin.

What is it?

I think the roof's about to fall in.

If it please the court...

the prosecution has just received some information,

and it feels duty-bound to present that information

to the court at this time.

Information

on the basis of which I intend to bring charges

against Mr. Mason for concealing evidence

and obstructing the administration of justice.

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

Inside it...

were a woman's scarf and some bullets.

What caliber bullets?

Thirty-two caliber. The same as the murder gun.

And what did Mr. Mason do with this scarf

and these bullets?

He put them in his pocket.

Thank you. There, Your Honor.

That's as clear a case of suppressing evidence

as I've ever seen.

Mr. Mason?

Before the testimony of this witness is taken as final,

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

You have. And I'll be pleased

if you can clarify this matter.

Mr. Burger.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mason,

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

Hm. Just answer my questions, please.

Now, when I took the bullets...

and that scarf with me,

did I say they were evidence?

No.

Did you or anyone else there at that time

suggest that they might be evidence?

No.

Are you able to say with certainty, even now,

that they are evidence in this case?

Well, no, I guess I can't.

Ah, that's all.

All, Mr. Mason?

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

if Your Honor will bear with us

for the few minutes it will take

for him to return to court.

Very well. We'll recall him.

You may stand down.

Yes, Your Honor?

Will you please take the stand, lieutenant?

Lieutenant Tragg... didn't you testify

that you and your men searched the cabin

immediately after finding the body?

Yes, sir. From top to bottom.

And was there a coffee can under the porch roof?

Yes, there was.

Did you examine it? Naturally.

What did you find?

Nothing. The coffee can was empty.

Thank you, lieutenant.

Your Honor, I realized that the scarf and the bullets

had been planted in the coffee can after the fact.

Otherwise, Lieutenant Tragg would have found them.

So they can hardly be considered evidence of murder.

I do believe they were intended

to confuse the issues in this case.

Nevertheless, Your Honor,

I'm going to insist that these items

be produced in court.

They will be, Mr. Burger,

but at the convenience of the defense.

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

I find the noon recess is upon us.

Court will reconvene at 2:00.

I checked at the Summit Inn.

Found this in the publicity files.

Gladys Doyle and Caspar Pedley.

Only on that particular Sunday, Caspar was operating

as Edgar Carlisle.

Mrs. Manley's brother?

Uh-huh. The same.

Phone call for you, Mr. Mason.

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

Nope.

Neither did we.

Mason speaking.

When you get Mauvis Meade

on the stand, Mason,

ask her about the $100 bills

she drew from the bank each month.

Who is this?

Never mind. Just ask her

if those aren't the bills she used

to pay the rent on the cabin.

Hello? Hello?

That almost has to be the man

that Gladys met in the cabin.

He must have followed us here.

Della, you check all the phone booths

to the right on this side of the street.

Look for a blond man about 30.

Paul, you check all the booths to the left.

I'll check the parking lot.

All right.

Some gin?

Yes, Mr. Mason.

I was supposed to meet a friend here.

Blond man about 30.

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

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

He just went across the street

to get cigarettes.

Thank you.

Mason?

What the devil do you think you're doing?

Richard Gilman?

Yes. But how did you...

This subpoena is answerable this afternoon.

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

As a federal agent,

you are conducting an undercover investigation

of certain income tax frauds

involving Las Vegas gamblers

and a Los Angeles contact.

Yes, sir.

And a court appearance by you

would wreck this investigation?

That's why my superiors in Washington

ordered me not to come forward.

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

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

and with the phone call.

Ended up in the mud myself, I guess.

It seems to me, Perry,

that you'll be doing the government a disservice

if you insist upon Mr. Gilman's testifying.

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

Yeah, but what can he testify to?

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

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

when Miss Doyle arrived.

And he left, himself, shortly thereafter.

He doesn't know of his own knowledge

whether she killed Manley or not.

I suggest you weigh this very carefully, Perry.

I'll do this much.

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

provided he answers...

one or two things for me now.

I'll do my best.

As I understand it...

you're investigating the transfer

of some rather large sums of unreported gambling winnings

from a Las Vegas group

to an agent here in Los Angeles.

That is correct, yes.

Uh, what's the purpose of the transfer?

To dodge paying an income tax on it.

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

or put in safety deposit boxes, we could uncover it

by a federal court order, and levy on it.

But if it keeps showing up in foreign countries

whose banks we can't touch...

then they've got it made.

What about the cabin?

It's a way station out of the country.

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

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

Did your tipster tell you

that Joseph Manley was a messenger for the gamblers,

and that Mauvis Meade was their Los Angeles contact?

I can't answer that.

You left rather quickly when Gladys Doyle arrived.

Was that because you recognized her

as Mauvis Meade's secretary

and thought you'd walked into a trap?

I can't answer that, either,

unless, of course, you put me under oath.

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

I think there's someone waiting in court

who can answer that.

Someone already under oath.

Haven't you been listening, Mr. Mason?

I told you that I didn't know

anything about a cabin or a package.

And if Gladys says I do,

then she's not telling the truth.

And you are, Miss Meade? Yes.

This map shows the...

shortcut from the Summit Inn.

On the shortcut is a point labeled "cabin."

And above it is a sketch of the murder cabin.

Isn't this your map...

and your sketch, Miss Meade?

I never saw it before.

Do you know the penalty for perjury?

A term in prison, Miss Meade.

But I have a feeling a worse penalty

awaits you unless you speak out now.

Do you recognize this?

Why, yes, it...

It's, uh...

my monkey scarf.

Would it surprise you to learn that this was found

in a coffee can at the murder cabin

and contained a handful of .32-caliber bullets?

What?

Did you kill Joseph Manley?

No.

Then is someone trying to frame you for murder?

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

In such fear that in an effort to protect yourself,

you hid certain documents in an envelope marked:

"To be opened in case of my death"?

Isn't it true that your apartment was ransacked

and that envelope taken?

And isn't it true that someone

posing as a writer named Edgar Carlisle

tried to lure you to the Summit Inn

on the day of the murder?

And that when you...

found that Edgar Carlisle...

The real Edgar Carlisle was dead,

had been dead for two months, you became terrified.

Sent the defendant, Gladys Doyle, in your place?

And isn't it true that that man,

Dukes Lawton, is not your bodyguard...

but a gunman hired to make sure

you do not tell the truth?

Uh, may I be heard, Your Honor?

My name is Gregory Dunkirk,

and I'm representing Miss Meade.

Is this true, Miss Meade?

The court will protect you.

Just tell the truth.

Mr. Dunkirk is...

Is not my lawyer.

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

Do you know what you're saying, Mauvis?

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

Please explain why

you are being threatened, Miss Meade.

Um...

several years ago, I...

I got mixed up with Gregory...

Um... Mr. Dunkirk.

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

and I found him a fascinating character for my book.

So fascinating that I got involved

in the underworld myself. As a...

messenger at first.

Involved, as Joseph Manley was involved?

Yes.

He, uh... He brought the package of money

from... Las Vegas to the cabin,

which...

I rented under Gladys' name.

Gentlemen...

in view of our earlier discussion...

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

With the court's permission,

before we retire, may I ask one or two questions

solely related to the murder?

Provided they're discrete questions.

Yes, Your Honor.

Now...

did you kill Joseph Manley?

No.

Did you tell him about the documents

you'd hidden in the envelope?

Foolishly, yes. And he, uh...

Well, he must have told his employers.

Were you...

having an affair with Joseph Manley?

Yes, I was.

Could you possibly have left your scarf in the cabin,

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

That must have been what happened.

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

come to see you?

Well, he...

He came to sell me some information

regarding Edgar Carlisle. I...

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

I sent him away.

Hm.

With the court's permission,

I would like to call Caspar Pedley to the stand.

Very well, Mr. Mason.

Why, that's Edgar Carlisle.

Mr. Pedley...

I show you this photograph

taken from the publicity files

of the Summit Inn.

Does it convey anything to you?

Yes. I...

I posed as Edgar Carlisle.

It was Joe's...

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

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

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

on Miss Meade?

Well, he said his bosses wanted to make sure

that Miss Meade wasn't at home on Sunday.

Why did you continue your deception

when Gladys Doyle showed up instead of Miss Meade?

I didn't know what else to do.

I think you did know what to do.

Oh. Oh, you mean

about going to Miss Meade's later and...

And trying to sell her information?

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

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

going directly to the cabin,

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

and, there, killing him.

No.

Taking the package of money from its hiding place

and later replacing it with a scarf

and a handful of bullets

in an effort to frame Mauvis Meade for murder.

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

I didn't kill Joe.

She did it.

She killed him.

She figured Miss Meade

would come back to the cabin

later that night and be involved.

And then she learned from you the next night

that Miss Doyle was accused.

So she came back with the bullets and the...

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

And she put 'em in the coffee can.

Yes, I did it.

It was that girl I hated.

Got him mixed up with her.

It was she I was jealous of.

I should've killed her...

instead of him.

I think planting that love letter, the comb,

and those other personal things,

to make it look as if Joseph Manley and Gladys

were having a love affair,

was terrible.

A matter of desperation, Della.

Dunkirk and Mauvis Meade had to act fast.

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

only they were planting the evidence against Miss Meade.

You mean the, uh, .32-caliber bullets

and the monkey scarf.

That's right, Paul.

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

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

I also received Miss Meade's autograph

on a very handsome check.

She said that Gladys had always been

an excellent secretary,

and she felt that she owed something to her.

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

for the next couple of years.