Original subtitles

Hey, wait a minute.

You're not locking up, are you?

I was just gonna check in at the hotel

and come right back for a haircut.

Little lunch, little fishing in the crick, little nap

and, uh, back at 2...

Yeah, well, I'll be thrown into the dog pound by then.

Is there another barber in town?

Come in. I'll cut the grass.

Probably wouldn't catch anything anyway.

Ha! Thanks.

The fishing's been pretty good up Rainbow Ranch.

I've been spending my vacation there.

This sure is beautiful country.

Stranger here, eh?

Yeah, that's right. I've never been here before in my life.

Never even been in California.

Ever try a beaver?

A beard?

I'm not the type.

Good chance to see what you'd look like.

There. That's what I mean.

Listen, my boss would take one look at this and...

Hey, that doesn't look so bad after all.

Bad?

It's downright striking.

Okay, I'll be fearless. The haircut can wait.

Now, hold on. I was just testing.

I didn't mean you to go walking around in the thing.

Oh, relax. Maybe I like it.

Here. Go get yourself some lunch.

And thanks again.

Yes?

Oh, uh, I'd like a room, please.

I'll just be staying one night, I guess.

Uh, I'd like a bath, of course.

The barber said there'd be... Amy.

This here's Mr. Bob Lansing.

That's his name. He's from Salt Lake City.

He's just traveling through, that's all

He's a stranger.

I'm afraid we're all full up.

Uh, no, you're not. Now, Amy.

I don't care what he is or who he calls himself.

There's no room in my hotel. Goodbye.

Well, hello, there. Small world.

Remember me? I was up at Rainbow Ranch.

Oh, yeah. Flaherty's the name. J.J.

I travel in hardware, mostly.

Everybody's crazy in this town.

What's wrong? No rooms.

She's lying. I know she is.

Well, maybe you scared the poor woman with your beard.

No wonder. You need a guitar.

Okay. Who cares?

So long, Mr. Flaherty.

Maybe I can make Las Vegas by dark.

You said at supper last night you had an errand to run

over here in Outcast. I thought you'd stay over a day.

Yeah, that's right. It's just a favor for a friend.

To look up some guy here.

I didn't think it was too important though.

All I mean is, son, if you wanna see this guy,

I know a better place to stay than this.

It's a new motel. It's got air conditioning.

Care to join up?

Why not?

So, uh, she just up and spit in your eye.

Is that it? Well, it wasn't only her.

No, thanks. The barber gave me kind of a strange look too.

Then this guy in the hotel lobby,

he even gave me a funny look.

Uh, it's the beard, that's all.

Hey, what was the name of that guy you wanted to look up?

There's a phone book here.

Oh, I've got his address, thanks.

Say, by the way, Mr. Flaherty,

what happened to the fishing?

You got to the ranch yesterday. Why'd you leave so quick?

What's the matter, you think I'm prying?

Maybe you think I've been following you?

Oh, of course not.

Look, all I'm gonna do is see a guy named Bell.

A friend, a very old friend, an old man in Salt Lake,

he asked me to thank Mr. Bell for some things, that's all.

See, this old man in Salt Lake,

he's, uh... He's headmaster of an orphanage.

It's the same orphanage I grew up in.

Only now everybody around here's looking cross-eyed at me.

See you later.

It's Frederick W. Bell's office, isn't it?

Yes. Thank you.

Oh, just a minute. If you'll wait until I announce you...

I don't wanna be announced. But he's busy. Please.

Maybe I wanna surprise him. Here, now,

what's going on?

Are you Mr. Bell? Yes.

Then I guess you're not my father, are you?

Or my uncle, or my brother.

Your what?

What on earth are you talking about?

Well, I wish I knew.

Uh, I sort of expected you to look like me, I guess.

Or I'd look like you.

I must look like somebody around here.

It's all right, Betty. You can go to lunch now.

I'm sorry, sir.

Dr. Kennedy in Salt Lake

asked me to drop by, that's all.

But when everybody in town seemed to recognize me,

I thought he might have had something else in mind.

But I guess he just wanted me to stop by

and thank you for your gifts.

I don't know what you're talking about, young man.

Now, if you'll please leave.

Oh, it's really quite confidential, sir.

I mean, if there's any reason for that.

But Dr. Kennedy said there'd been several gifts

to the school from here over a period of years.

I guess he traced them to you.

Anyway, he thought you'd like to know

how much they were appreciated.

I told you, I don't know what you're talking about.

Now, don't raise your voice, dear.

Vivian. For heavens' sakes, what are you doing here?

Looking for money.

I thought you were going

into Los Angeles with Tom Quincy.

Now, don't start gossip about your own wife, dear.

Oh, Vivian, please.

Who's your handsome young friend?

Vivian Bell. Bob Lansing.

I'll be with you in a minute. The young man's made a mistake.

Oh.

You see, there are other Fred Bells.

You've got the wrong person, that's all.

And, oh, yes, there's also a town

by the name of Outcast in Nevada.

In Nevada? No, there isn't, dear.

Will you please just wait for me?

Anyway, explain this

to your doctor friend.

And I'm sorry if I just didn't seem to know

what you were talking about.

Why, Fred, I didn't know

you were having your hair cut?

Uh, howdy, Mrs. Bell.

Hello, Jeff.

Uh, young feller. I guess you're pretty busy now, sir.

Uh, excuse me.

All right, who is it everybody thinks I am?

Who do I look like?

I...

I don't know what you're talking about.

Oh, really, Fred.

It's bubbling all over town.

They're saying, "He's come back.

"It's his ghost. It's his son, maybe.

The spitting image of the town's most awful criminal."

What do you suppose it feels like

to be the son of a murderer?

"On May 12, 1939, a man named Lin Aberdeen

"held up the First Pioneer Bank in Outcast.

"Aberdeen was shot and wounded

"by a guard as he made his getaway.

"That evening, the bank robber was spotted in a produce truck,

"trying to leave town.

He was then shot and killed by deputy sheriff."

Are there any pictures there?

It was in all the papers at the time.

May I see them?

This isn't a complete report.

I had a man start checking the minute you phoned in.

He located these in a couple of hours.

Look. What do you think?

It's your face, all right.

Even without the beard.

They're absolutely identical.

In that gunfight,

Aberdeen killed a couple of deputy sheriffs.

Shot them down in cold blood, right?

Uh, the report says that...

So it's true, then?

I am the son of a murderer.

Now, don't jump to conclusions.

Why not?

Mr. Mason, anybody who didn't grow up an orphan

can never even imagine what it's like.

Who was my father? Who was my mother?

It's all you ever think about.

Well, it is true that there was an infant son somewhere.

Apparently Aberdeen's wife was...

Yeah, a son. Sure. Me.

I tell you, you get eyes in the back of your head.

Every time somebody gives you a funny look,

you say "Maybe that's a relative of mine."

And the second I walked into that dirty town,

everybody in the place started to...

Now, Bob, take it easy.

Look, you don't understand.

My big mystery turns out to be a killer, that's all.

Pa?

Oh, he was such a big hero

they shot him down in the streets.

You know, I think it was very wise of you

to come into Los Angeles to see an attorney.

Well, I thought maybe you could help me

check out all the records and things.

You'd be even wiser, Bob,

if you'd leave this whole thing

in the hands of Dr. Kennedy and myself.

Sometimes the truth is not found easily.

Why would that Mr. Bell

send presents to the orphanage?

Why would he?

I'm afraid that's his business.

And, uh, the law protects his privacy.

Yeah, but, Mr. Mason, everybody in that town acted strange.

Why? What's wrong with those people?

Mm-hm. Money, I guess.

Money?

When Aberdeen robbed that bank,

he got away with nearly $100,000.

Somehow, before he was killed,

he got rid of that money.

It was never recovered. Never found.

Can you imagine all the local gossip there must've been?

It's no wonder that face of yours created such a stir.

Huh.

So I'm a clue in a treasure hunt too.

Okay, thanks very much, Mr. Mason, for everything.

Miss Street.

I'll stir them up, all right.

I'll find the truth.

Bob.

You ought to let us handle it.

How can I?

I told you, you don't know how I feel.

The boy's come back from Los Angeles and he's pretty upset.

What's that have to do with me?

Well, he's asking questions all around, Mr. Quincy.

You know, a kid like that gets a bee in his bonnet...

So the whole town's gone batty again

looking for Aberdeen's money.

Well, that happens periodically, every year or two, Mr., uh...

Flaherty. J.J.

So don't bother me with it.

They're a bunch of fools.

It doesn't take much to stir them up.

Well, I don't just mean the money.

At least not just yet, I don't.

Thought you said you represented some insurance company.

That's right, sir, The robbery was a bonded loss.

Naturally I wanna find the honeypot first.

Well, I'll tell you what, Mr., uh...

Flaherty.

You just stay on the case another 20 years or so,

and maybe you'll get it solved.

But if you think that boy showing up

is gonna lead you to anything, you're... You're mistaken.

Yes, sir, but, uh, suppose I mention the name Bell?

Fred Bell. He works for me.

That's what I hear. Manages your trucking firm.

One of my firms.

Big position though.

He used to be just a clerk.

In 1939, yeah.

In the bank though.

Matter of fact, he was the clerk in the bank

on the day it was held up.

That's the way I understood it.

Well, you're the detective, Mr. Flaherty.

Go ahead.

I'm not just scratching fleas.

You aware this Fred Bell has been sending gifts

to an orphanage for more than 20 years?

The same orphanage

this Bob grew up in?

Well, uh,

maybe it's charity.

Or maybe an interest in somebody there.

I'm not gonna add two and two and give you seven.

Fred's always been a pushover for Girl Scout cookies,

Christmas turkeys.

The, uh, boy doesn't know all this yet.

I had a friend do some checking for me in Salt Lake City.

The gifts were all in cash.

They added up to more than...

$40,000.

So you give it some thought, hm?

Oh, just any little help you can come up with.

I'll be glad to cut you in on the reward.

Of course you're pretty well fixed here.

But rewards, they accrue interest.

Indeed they do, Mr. Quincy.

Where is he? Who, dear?

That fool husband of yours.

I'm not going to tell you until you change your jacket.

We're going dancing.

Where is he?

Well, he's probably watching television.

You know how much he likes westerns.

Did Flaherty upset you that much?

You know Fred's been sending money someplace for years?

I found out about it this afternoon. Why?

What's he think he's doing, anyway?

That fool.

Blasted, blasted fool.

Once a thief, always a thief.

Wait a minute!

Hey, wait a minute!

I wanna talk to you!

No. Please, not here.

Listen... No!

Mr. Bell.

Oh, Mr. Bell.

It's me, Jeff Douglas.

You got a few minutes?

I didn't hear your television on.

You asleep in there?

Mason, eh?

Perry Mason, the attorney?

Well, well, well.

Well.

If I wasn't such a fair-minded person, Mr. Mason,

I wouldn't let you have a room in my hotel.

Why, thank you.

And, uh, my secretary may need some space

to transcribe some notes.

But her typing won't make much noise.

You're here to see that young man in jail, aren't you?

I didn't know he'd asked for any anybody yet.

I am planning to see Bob Lansing, yes.

Bob Aberdeen, it ought to be.

You won't do him any good, Mr. Mason. He's guilty.

You seem remarkably well-informed.

Well, I ought to be.

Twenty years ago, that boy's father killed my brother.

He was deputy sheriff and his wife was gonna have a baby.

I saw my brother die right out there on that street

where that crosswalk is now.

I see.

Lin Aberdeen cheated this town

out of a fair trial and conviction.

But just you watch.

We'll give his son the gas chamber, all right.

Della, take the bags upstairs. I'll meet you at the courtroom.

I know I didn't do what you told me.

About letting you handle things.

About not coming back to Outcast, at least.

Well, I did come back.

Maybe I wanted to make trouble.

To stir things up.

Sure, I wanted to.

You wanted to kill him?

No.

To make people think I knew where the money was,

that's one crazy idea I had.

Lin Aberdeen's money?

Sure, my father's.

If people wanted something to point at,

I'd give them something to point about.

You were feeling pretty sorry for yourself, weren't you?

Maybe.

What time last night did you decide

that Mr. Bell had found the money?

Oh, you figured that out too, huh?

He must have, Mr. Mason.

Years ago he must have.

And made those payments to your orphanage ever since?

Sure. Conscience money.

Maybe he really was mixed up in that bank robbery

or killing those deputies or something.

So last night you went out to his house

to accuse him of those crimes?

No, I just wanted to ask him. To find out.

And he resisted you?

Well, I didn't fight him.

They had to take three stitches in your scalp, I understand.

I fell.

That was from the corner of the table or something.

Mr. Bell's skull was fractured.

He was literally beaten to death.

But I didn't do it!

Then who did, the barber?

I don't know.

I was unconscious for a while, I guess.

I... I must've been.

I, uh, talked with Dr. Kennedy last night.

In Salt Lake City? Mm-hm.

I asked him if he had any particular reason

for asking you to contact Mr. Bell. He didn't.

He simply wanted you to see him

because you were vacationing in the area.

Well, did you ask him anything about my background?

Yes.

He said you'd been left in a bus station.

That they could never locate the Mexican woman

who'd been traveling with you from California.

But when? When was it?

Two weeks after the robbery.

You were just a few years old at that time.

About the same age as the Aberdeen boy.

Well, I guess I did enough

feeling sorry for myself last night.

If you're worried about handling my case...

Bob.

I've already opened an office in my hotel room.

Now, let's go over

the whole story again

right from the beginning.

It's dreadful my not being able to help you, Mr. Mason.

But I didn't even learn

I was a widow until after midnight.

You'd been over here at Mr. Quincy's house

earlier in the evening?

Yes.

We're on several committees together,

Mr. Quincy and I.

So I understand.

What time did you leave here, Mrs. Bell?

About 10:30.

That awful man, Mr. Flaherty, made Tom angry.

And Tom tried to get my husband on the phone and couldn't,

and that made it worse.

So I went out by myself.

The police found me later

at the little lounge down the highway.

Then when was the last time you saw your husband?

At dinnertime. About 8:00.

Did your husband ever discuss, uh,

certain gifts he'd sent to, uh, Salt Lake City?

My husband did not discuss his finances with me, Mr. Mason.

But at dinner...

did he say anything about expecting to see anyone?

Oh, you have the wrong idea, Mr. Mason.

The last time I saw my husband

was when I was going out for dinner.

He was just sitting there. He didn't say anything.

I don't even remember if he said good night.

You had a rather unusual marriage, didn't you?

There are only unusual people, Mr. Mason.

Tom and I wanted to get married

but my husband did not believe in divorce.

All right, gorgeous, I have it.

J.J. Flaherty.

Mm-hm. He's some sort of an insurance investigator.

And, uh, Mr. Quincy,

find out what his financial holdings are

throughout the state.

Oh, and Paul,

see if there's an underwriter's report on the robbery.

May 12th, 1939.

All right. I have that.

Now, when does Perry want me up there?

The hearings will start tomorrow,

so we don't have much time, but...

Wait a minute.

Paul, there is something else.

Perry wants you to double-check every newspaper on the robbery.

It might help us to know if there was even a hint

that Aberdeen might've had an acco...

Accomplice?

Is that what you were gonna say?

Well, Perry better check the newspaper files there.

It's probably only a weekly but...

Della?

Two heads of lettuce, please. Yes.

And a box of strawberries, nice and fresh.

If you please.

Five pounds of potatoes.

Am I going too fast for you?

Potatoes.

No organization.

I don't know where Fred's mind was,

but his books are in a mess.

It'll take me six months to get this cleared up.

How long was he manager of your trucking business?

You mean, why did I keep him here?

Set up like this? Fancy house and all?

You figure that out, Mr. Mason.

Nearly everyone else has.

I've, uh, spoken with Mrs. Bell.

I gather you're to be congratulated soon.

If we get married that'll be our business.

Tell me, did you know Fred Bell as early as 1939?

We grew up together around here.

How about Lin Aberdeen?

Was he ever a friend of Bell's?

Search me.

Could've been.

Aberdeen came here a few months before he robbed the bank.

Got fired from a janitor's job,

mowed a few lawns.

Oh?

What's the matter, Mr. Mason,

you worried about where all my money came from?

Well, I'll tell you.

I was poor, ambitious, and during World War II

I was lucky enough to miss the draft.

Now, if you'll let me get back to my books.

Anything there in Bell's records

to suggest a money shortage?

Or maybe a surplus?

What if Bell did have all that loot all these years?

Wouldn't help the boy's case any.

On the contrary, Mr. Quincy.

One way or another that loot, as you call it,

is a motive for murder.

For almost every person in this town.

Thank you, Miss Gordon. You're welcome.

It's been some time since I worked

for the insurance company, yes.

My investigator said five years.

I'm on my own now, you might say.

What they used to call a bounty hunter, is that right?

Well, I'll sure split.

Uh, give you anything that'll help your boy.

But I'm afraid, as far as digging up

an old accomplice goes...

There were plenty of witnesses to the fact

that Aberdeen was alone when he held up the bank.

I've dug that far myself.

And check, uh, if anybody gave him a hand

between then and the evening at the time he was killed.

It would be pretty hard to turn up any evidence

of any man it could be.

You mean, there might have been a woman?

Well, now, I haven't scratched there yet, but, uh...

Hey, where are you going?

When did this happen? Early this morning.

Little weekly newspaper they got here.

Fire burned out every file they had.

"Keep out.

Property of Tom Quincy."

Sure, Quincy owns everything in this town.

Th-there he was.

Uh, him, the defendant,

trying to get out the back way and couldn't.

Mr. Bell, he was down on the floor.

I, uh, think I asked you what time it was, Mr. Douglas.

I don't want our friend from Los Angeles

to be objecting to all this talk.

It was about 11:15 I walked in there, sir.

Thank you. Your witness.

Did you at any time see the defendant strike Mr. Bell?

Well, uh, no. I just got there. You see...

Did you, uh, hear any sounds of struggle

as you approached the house?

No. Of course, I wasn't listening.

And I walk pretty fast.

Why were you in such a hurry to see Mr. Bell?

I'd heard the defendant

asking about him in a couple of bars earlier.

I guess I was curious, that's all.

In a couple of bars?

You mean, you were following the defendant

from place to place?

Your Honor.

Well, I'm not the only one.

Half the town was out that night.

I'll withdraw the question, if you think it's irrelevant.

Thank you, that's all.

Mr. Bell died of a massive intracerebral hemorrhage.

This was caused by several blows with a blunt instrument.

Such as the heavy bookend I've just showed you?

Yes.

And did the samples of blood found on the bookend

match that of the victim?

They did.

May it please the court, I would like to introduce

this murder weapon as People's Exhibit A.

Any luck, Paul?

No, but I have these notices planted all over town.

Uh, counselor?

I have no objection to the exhibit.

So mark it.

Thank you, doctor.

There'll be no further questions now.

Uh, doctor,

could the blows that killed Mr. Bell

have been struck by a woman?

I suppose so.

That's a pretty heavy bookend.

Thank you.

Now, when you were first called to the scene of the crime,

did you also have reason to examine the defendant?

Objection, Your Honor.

There's a regular time for the defense

to present its own testimony.

Well, now, it seems to me you suggested

there was a fight, Mr. Prosecutor.

Well, now, in a fight it isn't always possible

to separate the blows.

Now, I think I'd call that laying a foundation.

Overruled. Proceed.

Well, doctor?

I examined the boy, yes.

He had one contusion with slight lacerations.

Exactly where was that?

The parietal region.

Now, that's right on top of the head, isn't it?

Yes.

Uh, doctor, do you think it possible

for someone to stumble or fall in such a manner

so as to injure the very top of the head?

You mean, uh, bump it on something?

Well, I suppose in certain circumstances.

I'll ask a much easier question, then.

Isn't it much more possible

that the defendant was struck by that blow

after he was down and already stunned or unconscious?

Objection, Your Honor.

Of all the argumentative...

I'll sustain that one, all right.

No further questions.

At what time did he leave the motel room?

Well, Bob came back from Los Angeles just after supper.

It was about 7:30.

And we gabbed for a few minutes and then he went out.

It was about, uh, 20 of 8, I'd say.

Ah. You, uh, didn't accompany him?

I hadn't eaten.

You see, I'd been nosing around

the newspaper office pretty late.

I guess I had the same curiosity

about old papers as Mr. Mason seems to.

Uh, to tell you the truth,

I didn't find anything worth paying money for.

I'm sure you could find a better time to talk to Mr. Mason.

Just answer the questions. Yes, sir.

So the last time you saw the defendant

was at 20 minutes to 8, Mr. Flaherty?

I didn't see him at all

except that afternoon in my husband's office.

That was the only time.

And did your husband later discuss that visit with you?

Or in any way mention the defendant's name?

He did on my way out that evening.

My husband was sitting on the porch

and I asked him

if there was anything I could do.

Do about what?

What was the reason for your concern?

Well, he seemed worried and upset.

Defeated, you might say.

I see.

And, uh, what was your husband's answer, Mrs. Bell?

He said there was nothing anybody could do.

Please tell us his exact words, if possible.

The last words spoken to you by the deceased.

He said,

"Do you know who that boy is?"

And I said, "No."

And he said,

"It's Bob Aberdeen."

Aberdeen?

Are you sure your husband didn't say "Lansing"?

Was he so positive who he was?

He said "Aberdeen."

That's all.

Cross-examine.

Uh, Mrs. Bell,

how old are you?

Objection.

Aside from its lack of diplomacy,

the question is completely irrelevant and immaterial.

Sustained.

I'll avoid the direct question, Your Honor.

However, since the prosecution has introduced

the name Aberdeen, could you tell us,

Mrs. Bell, what the name meant to you?

Had you ever met Lin Aberdeen, for instance?

It's possible. He...

He was in town a few months before his death.

Yes, 1939.

But in what way might you have met?

Would he have patted you on the head

or perhaps asked you for a date?

It wouldn't have been either, Mr. Mason.

In 1939, I hadn't even graduated from high school,

Yes, of course.

You left Mountain Union High, without graduating,

in 1936.

Objection.

Strike that last question.

Your Honor, perhaps I should drop

this entire line of inquiry.

That would be well-advised, counselor.

Now, concerning your husband's, uh,

last words about the defendant.

He only said, "Do you know who that boy is?"

And then he said... "That blasted boy!"

What?

That's what he said.

"That blasted ugly delinquent."

"That dirty troublemaker."

Yes. He's come here to kill me."

That's what he really said.

"He's just like his father.

"He's a lying, stealing,

murdering, thieving..."

Your husband really said all those things?

Before I reprimand the witness, Mr. Mason,

if you wish to make objection,

I'll strike these last words.

But why should we just strike the last words, Your Honor?

Because, obviously, this witness became hysterical with anger.

She was making a statement with the sole purpose

of getting back at you

and wasn't trying to tell the truth.

Exactly.

But how do we know that just the last words were perjured?

Why not the entire testimony?

Well, would you like to make a motion

to strike her entire testimony on that ground?

No, Your Honor.

I prefer to let her testimony stand

just as it is.

You may step down.

I told the defendant I wouldn't serve him any more drinks.

Why not? He kept trying to pick fights

with anybody who wouldn't say his old man was a great guy.

So I told him to get out.

Before he left were there any particular questions

that he asked you?

Yes, uh,

he asked where the local graveyard was

and I... I told him.

And then he asked how he could find Mr. Bell's house.

And dumb me, I told him that too.

Mr. Bell told me he was in trouble.

There was people in Salt Lake who talked too much, he said.

Uh, just a moment, Mrs. Douglas.

Let's set things in order.

Just where did you see Mr. Bell?

He was sitting on his own front porch

all alone on the night of the murder.

And, uh, how did you happen to see him there on the porch?

Well, I was out looking for my husband, Jeff Douglas.

I wanted him to come home.

Didn't want any of that Aberdeen nonsense around my family.

Only, Mr. Bell, he hadn't seen Jeff.

Ah. Now, Mrs. Douglas,

since you spoke to the deceased

just moments before his death,

tell us exactly what happened.

Well, when I asked him about Jeff,

he just mumbled about Salt Lake

and something about people handing out

figures they shouldn't. Uh, use only Mr. Bell's

exact words, please.

Well, all that stuff didn't make sense,

so I didn't pay attention.

Only then I asked him if he wasn't sick

and he said,

"Amy, I'm so sick I'm gonna be dead."

Well, that scared me, so I asked him why

and he said, "Bob Aberdeen's here.

And now he'll get me."

So I said, "Don't you want me to call somebody or something?"

And he said, "No. Go away.

It won't do no good. He'll get me."

So then I went away

and that was all there was to it.

Your witness.

Your Honor, my cross-examination of this witness

may be fairly extensive.

Even setting aside hearsay elements.

Well, it's after 4:30, if you'd care to recess.

Mr. Prosecutor?

I have no objection.

This court is recessed until 9:30 tomorrow morning.

Well, here are some more.

I found an old lady who has her shelves lined with them.

Uh, any luck?

Not so far.

You know, it would help if you were sure

what we were looking for.

Something worth burning down a newspaper for.

There's an awful lot here about Hitler.

And the closing of the local CCC camp.

Well.

How about the Duke of Windsor?

Wait a minute. Here's something about a bankruptcy.

Some little trucking company.

What's the date?

April 15, 1939.

That's before the robbery.

Well, look here. Look here.

"Unsuccessful attempt to get going,

"our sympathies to young

Tom Quincy."

All right, everything around this date.

Now let's really get to work.

Uh, a moment, Your Honor.

The defense does not wish to cross-examine this witness.

Oh?

Well, last night you suggested a rather lengthy

cross-examination of this witness.

Uh, defense now feels it might be best to allow the prosecution

to finish its case as quickly as possible.

I therefore have no questions of Mrs. Douglas.

Very well. Uh, you may be seated.

I call Mr. Tom Quincy to the stand.

The last time I saw Fred Bell

was in the office that afternoon.

However, at that time he made no mention at all

about the boy being here.

Uh, so it wasn't until Mr. Flaherty called on you

later in the evening that you had any idea what was going on?

That is correct.

Was that also the first you heard

of certain gifts which Mr. Bell

may have made to a certain orphanage?

It was.

Now, Mr. Quincy, since that time,

have you discovered any further information

concerning such gifts?

I have.

Would you please tell the court in your own words?

Bell made deposits and withdrawals

in a separate fund that he had control of.

Would you clarify, please?

Well, apparently Bell used this fund

to build up large stores of cash.

And then he'd balance it

by sending those gifts to Salt Lake City.

Uh, one moment.

Mr. Mason, you may have objection here

if financial records are gonna be discussed

without being produced.

May it please the court,

our only present purpose is to confirm a source of anger

between the defendant and the deceased.

To confirm a motive for murder.

Uh, defense is quite willing to concede

that money stolen from a local bank in 1939

may quite well have become

a part of the murder by way of motivation,

or perhaps by setting in motion causes

which culminated in murder.

Thank you.

That's all for this witness then.

Now, these deposits you say Mr. Bell made

to a certain account.

Uh, is it your belief, Mr. Quincy,

that they came from that stolen money?

Well, I'd never be able to prove such a thing, of course.

Could you tell if the, uh, money came from blackmail?

I don't understand the question.

Very well, I'll ask a quite different question, then.

Mr. Quincy, did you set fire

to your own newspaper office the other day?

Your Honor, I object.

Sustained.

I'd like to answer that question, Your Honor.

I absolutely did not.

I've only owned that newspaper for a few years

and I don't know of anything in it that was worth burning.

Never mind, Mr. Quincy.

Strike both question and answer.

Mr. Quincy, I read in the paper that in April of 1939,

you were filing bankruptcy proceedings,

but there was only one notice.

A careful reading of the newspapers

for the next two years

showed that the bankruptcy must have been stopped.

That somehow you must have stayed on in business.

Well, it wasn't much of a business in those years.

I had a couple of used trucks,

I managed to get a few hauling jobs

and keep my head above water That's about what happened.

But then in late l941, or early '42,

you went to San Francisco.

By the time you returned to town,

you'd become quite successful in several new lines.

There was a war on, remember?

I told you I was lucky enough to miss the draft.

I'm afraid, Mr. Mason, that quite a few people

made money during those years.

But only if they had cash to invest.

Now, my question is this, Mr. Quincy:

concerning Mr. Bell's records,

isn't it possible that since the murder,

you might have altered those records

so as to have concealed some involvement of your own?

Objection, Your Honor.

Sustained.

You'll just have to confine yourself to subjects

that are relevant, counselor.

Your Honor.

Now, Mr. Quincy,

Mrs. Bell stated that on the night of the murder,

she left your house at about 10:40.

Is that correct?

That's correct.

What did you then do?

I went to bed.

Before or after Mr. Douglas' visit?

Before or after what?

Your Honor, I would like the court reporter

to read back certain portions of testimony

given by Mr. Jeff Douglas.

Wait, Your Honor.

Yes, I was in bed.

And I heard somebody outside,

but I don't know who it was.

You know, I think it might be easier

to recall the other witness, counselor.

Y-yes, sir, I said I looked for Mr. Bell several places.

You stated that you looked for him downtown,

then at Mr. Quincy's house on the way back, is that correct?

Uh, yes, sir.

I started to knock, but I guess Mr. Quincy

was in bed already, like he said.

Did you happen to notice whether or not his car was in the drive?

Well, uh, no.

No, I... I'm not sure it was.

Can't you be more positive than that?

Yes, sir.

I guess the reason I didn't really knock

was because the car wasn't there.

Your Honor, in view of the fact

that there may be conflicting testimony here,

with the court's permission,

I would now like to cross-examine Mrs. Douglas.

Very well.

Now, please repeat all you can remember of Mr. Bell's words.

There was people there who talked too much, he said.

Yes, and, um, giving out figures they shouldn't.

Uh, figures about money, is that what you mean?

Exactly.

Because if I recall the statement

of one other witnesses...

Your Honor, how long a parade of witnesses?

Hold on, Mr. Prosecutor.

Your Honor, I'm now refering

to the statement made by Mr. Flaherty

concerning what he told Mr. Quincy at 10:30.

That is, the private information about the figures and amounts

of Mr. Bell's donations

to that orphanage.

Proceed.

Your Honor, no one else had that information.

Yet one half-hour later, news of it had reached Mr. Bell.

I would like to know who told him.

I think Mr. Quincy might return to the stand now.

Uh... Uh, just a moment.

I was there.

I was there, all right, I...

I was mad enough to wring his neck,

but I... I... I didn't kill him. I...

I didn't kill him, I...

You see, I... I couldn't have,

because he was dead when I got there.

Mr. Quincy, I hardly need remind you

that you perjured yourself many times.

I know, Your Honor, I... But I had to lie.

You see, if I... If I'd have told you I'd been there,

why, I'd have to tell you the whole truth.

The whole truth about me and the...

The whole truth about Aberdeen.

Sure, I got the money, all right.

Aberdeen gave it to me.

He was hurt, he knew he was gonna die

and so he gave me the money in return

for taking care of his boy.

You go ahead and you blame me all you want.

But I didn't kill anyone.

May it please the court,

there is really only one other person

who could have murdered Fred Bell,

who could have first talked with him

and then returned to kill him.

Flaherty, J.J.

I almost got away with it.

Flaherty spotted you walking toward Bell's house,

followed you back there to see what would happen.

What happened gave him the golden opportunity.

Yeah, only why did he have to kill the guy?

Well, to keep him quiet.

Flaherty had been working on the case

for a number of years, hoping, I suppose,

just for the reward.

When he stumbled into the fact that Quincy had turned $100,000

into $2 million, he got bigger ideas.

Poor Mr. Bell knew the whole story.

And with you on the scene,

Bell would have come out with the whole story.

But with Bell dead,

Flaherty could take over...

The blackmailing of Mr. Quincy in professional style.

What about the fire? Did he start that too?

Of course.

He found that same newspaper item we found,

and he didn't want anything in the world

to interfere with his plan.

Thanks.

You know, after all is said and done,

my father was still what he was.

He did try to take care of you, Bob.

Yeah, I guess so.

Doesn't seem to matter much.

Doesn't matter at all, Bob,

because you are what you are.