All language subtitles for perry_mason_s07e26_antic_angel

Excuse me, mister, but could you lend a
hand to a guy who's down on his luck?

Just the price of a sandwich, sir. I
haven't eaten since yesterday.

All right, come on, I'll buy you a meal.

I sure appreciate your offer, mister,
but I can't go in a restaurant with you.

Why not?

I'm wearing a tie.

Now, if you'll just give me a half a
buck.

You'll head for the nearest saloon,
right?

Nothing to it.

Would you like me to buy you a meal? Not
if I'm going to get a sermon with it.

I'll call you later.

Wait, wait, hold that cab. Hold it! I'm
afraid you're too late. He's already got

a fare. Who was that woman? You were
with her, weren't you? Who was she? A

friend of mine.

Where'd she go?

I'm afraid that's none of your business.
Look, you don't understand.

She used to be my... I mean, I think I
used to know... What's her name?

What? What do you think her name is?

Ruth. Ruth Sherwood.

Sorry, wrong party.

No, no, wait!

Maybe I am mistaken, but I'd like to
make sure. Look, here.

Here, take my card.

And would you give her this, this woman,
this friend of yours, and whatever her

name is, and have her call me?

I guess I could pass it on to her.

William Sherwood, huh?

Yeah, I live in Whittier.

Fine, fine.

Swell town.

Nice talking to you.

Good evening, sir.

Double scotch and a telephone.

Bill Sherwood.

Sitting at the Hotel Benson bar.

With a double scotch in front of me.

You're where? With what?

You heard me.

What do you have, sir? Nothing.

I'm looking for a friend of mine. He
called from here about an hour ago.

Oh, yes, I know who you mean. He left
about ten minutes ago.

You wouldn't have to know where he went.

Probably to his room. He's fine for his
drinks.

Thanks.

Six months of your life shot to... Okay.

What happened?

I saw Ruth.

Hmm?

I saw Ruth.

Oh, fine.

Great. That explains everything.

Six months you're on the wagon, and then
you're back on the sauce again because

you saw Ruth.

Okay, who's Ruth?

He wouldn't tell me your name.

He was lying to me. I know he was. I
don't know why, but he was lying to me,

Harry.

It was her.

I'd recognize her anywhere.

We were married for five years.

Your wife?

You said she was dead. You said she was
killed in a plane crash.

Nearly a year ago.

Thirty miles southwest of Chicago, all
aboard were killed.

It was in all the papers, Harry.

All the papers.

There was even a photograph of Ruth.

She wasn't a blonde, then.

Man, you really are snaky. I wasn't
drinking, Harry.

I didn't have a drink until after I saw
her.

Wouldn't you do the same thing, Harry,
if you saw somebody that had been dead

for nearly a year?

Yeah, I'd be bugged, but you said it was
impossible. You know she's dead. It was

Ruth.

Did you talk to her?

No.

No.

I gave the man she was with my card.

I wonder if she'll call.

Look, buddy, I'm calling you. You've got
to go home. Come on. Back to Whittier.

You can't take the big city. No, no,
Harry. I can't do that. I've got a

here. I've got a meeting here tomorrow
morning. Come on. Up into the bathroom.

Harry, wash your face. Come on.

Wash your face.

I'll take you home.

Operator?

Whittier. 9 -4 -3.

All right,

now what's he doing in my apartment?
Look, I had to borrow her car to come

you. He's all right, Miss Kent.

I was more worried about my car than you
anyway.

I suppose Harry called you from the
hotel, too.

Mm -hmm.

Well, it was only after midnight,
because I had nothing better to do. I

to walk over.

I told her that you were lonesome for
her, and so you had a couple of belts,

that's all.

What Harry means is he didn't tell me
why you backslid.

A complete lack of character, that's
all.

Well, lukewarm baths will help.

Dana, thanks a little, huh?

I'd do the same for any dumb, hopeless
love that I happen to be in love with.

Well, I can tell you somebody who's not
going to love me in the morning.

Yeah, you.

My ex -boss, my new partner.

Oh, Dana, what's he going to say?

You know, the way Mr. Faulkner worries,
I think it would be very unkind for

anyone to say anything about this.

Trouble is, Sydney's going to explode if
I don't show up for that sales meeting

tomorrow morning.

Why can't I?

Sure I can. I'll be all right.

Bill. I'm all right now, Eric.

Oh.

I'm sure that's just a temporary
condition.

You look lousy.

It is you, isn't it, Ruth?

I'm afraid you have the wrong name, Mr.
Sherwood.

I'm Lynn Bowman.

Where is it you think we met?

San Francisco?

Seattle? St. Louis, 1959.

Don't you remember, Ruth?

Well, I'm afraid I've never been to St.
Louis, Mr. Sherwood.

I'm strictly a West Coaster.

They say everybody has a double
somewhere.

Don't you think that probably explains
it?

Oh, I really don't think that would
prove anything.

But it's been an interesting experience.

Wait.

Ruth, wait. Wait just a minute.

Happens all the time.

See, a person reminds you of someone.

It was her voice.

I was married to her for five years.
Don't you think I know her voice?

Bill, get a hold of yourself. Don't
crack up.

How could it possibly be your wife?

I don't know. I don't know.

Why, Mr. Mason?

Answer me that if you don't mind. Why am
I persecuted? What have I done?

Am I a sinner? All right, I'm a sinner.
But who isn't?

I think you're a very nice man, Mr.
Faulkner.

Then why should I be tormented?

Why do I take a left into the company?

You took Bill Sherwood in with you
because he's a good salesman. And

also needed his $15 ,000 investment.

No, don't remind me.

Mr. Sherwood hasn't started drinking
again, has he? He must have.

Stone cold sober, would he see dead
women walking?

Is this what you were looking at, this
picture of his wife?

All right, so it don't make sense.

But he's your client, Mr. Mason. I
represented Bill Sherwood in setting up

partnership.

But now it seems to me you should be
seeing a doctor instead of a lawyer.

Well, my wife's brother is a head
shrinker, and him I don't mind losing as

friend. But Mason wants the result.

If Sherwood is as sane as me, which
ain't no recommendation.

You mean if Bill's wife really is alive?

I'll say it without jokes.

That $15 ,000 Bill invested in my
business was insurance money from her

Now, you see why I'm upset?

What is this partner of mine you
represent? Just a kook?

Just a lush who's seen blonde elephants?

Or maybe a guy who's trying to tell
me...

He committed insurance fraud.

All right, Mr. Falconer.

I'll look into it.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Harry, what on earth?

The newspaper says that Ruth Sherwood
was survived by a husband and a sister,

doesn't it?

Yes, here it is.

Maggie Malachy, St. Louis address.

Get a hold of Paul.

Maybe he can track her down.

I didn't keep you waiting. Just in a
state of suspense, I couldn't help

wondering as to why we chose this place
for a meeting. Like a couple of bomb

throwers. I'll explain in a minute. Step
up to the bar, I'll buy you a drink.

Orange juice?

Screwdriver, without the vodka.

Sober fella, me, you know.

One orange juice, please.

I'm afraid I can't give the same
assurance of my sanity.

Sidney seems to feel I should see his
brother -in -law, the doctor.

Bill, do you have any doubts that it was
your wife who was killed in that crash?

None at all.

Then the woman you saw?

I have no doubt about that either.

It was Ruth.

Any psychics in your family?

I had a nan who was a whiz with a Ouija
board, but I never inherited any of it.

All right.

Tell me about your wife's sister.

Who?

Oh, Maggie.

A girl of drab plumage, operated a dress
shop in St. Louis.

She moved to Los Angeles a year and a
half ago.

Yes, I guess I did hear something about
that.

Oh, now, wait a minute. You're not
suggesting that the woman I saw was

Well, there was a general family
resemblance, but nobody would ever

those two.

Well, the woman you saw was blonde.

I know.

And my wife, Ruth, used to have dark
hair, as did Maggie. But you still can't

make a bird of paradise out of a crow.

Bill, there's a dress shop across the
street.

Madame Louise.

Maggie? I made an appointment to see
her.

I wish I had the other half of the
screwdriver.

Maggie was never one of my greatest
admirers.

Oh, not without cause, you understand.

Well, now, let's see what time has done
to her.

Mr. Mason, there was nothing in what you
told me on the phone to indicate you

were bringing someone with you.

You have no objections to seeing your
brother -in -law, do you? It's hardly a

secret that I've always had objections
to him.

Nothing has changed. That's not entirely
true, Maggie.

Miss Malachy, will you tell me something
about your sister, please?

Yes, I should be glad to give you the
other side of the picture.

Ruth was a very beautiful girl, Mr.
Mason.

High -spirited, friendly, and very
popular.

Oh, I won't say she wasn't a little
spoiled, but then that was only natural.

Yes, it often happens.

I was always the plain one, but I don't
ever remember being envious of her.

I had a flair for designing and
dressmaking and...

Well, one fairy princess is enough for
any family.

And then she changed.

She married me.

You were never a good provider, Bill.
That may sound unkind, but it's

nonetheless true.

In all fairness, Mr. Mason, Ruth should
have married a rich man.

She wasn't used to living a budgeted
life.

She lost that wonderful sparkle.

On top of that, Bill started to drink.

There may have been a connection,
Maggie.

We all of us have our shortcomings.

But only a weakling falls into a hole.

Or a bottle.

If you wish.

About the plane crash.

Well, what about it?

Ruth had spent several days in Chicago
after another quarrel with Bill.

And she got on the plane to come back,
and the plane never reached St. Louis.

Well, really, Mr. Mason, it was in all
the papers.

There's no question that Ruth was on
that plane.

I don't understand.

Bill thinks he saw her last night.

Downtown. You saw her?

Well, I suppose if you're an alcoholic,
anything is possible.

Maggie, I hadn't had a drink in six
months.

But then you have no excuse at all, do
you?

Really, Mr. Mason, how can a man of your
reputation lend yourself to such a

gruesome business?

Mistakes have been made before, Miss
Malachy.

Mistakes? But she identified Ruth's
body.

I don't have a very clear memory about
those days. I did whatever was

A plane crashes and it burns. If it'll
help refresh your memory, Annie.

The airline finally sent me what was
left of her luggage. Would you like to

it?

No, thanks.

Excuse me.

Miss Malick?

Leave me alone.

Please, just leave me alone.

Dana, I... Hear you, Mr.

Bell.

The boss in the office?

Yes, for the customer.

You tell him when he's not busy, I'd
like to see him?

Dana, it's all here.

No more phantoms, no more ghosts, no
more angels.

Took a little bit of a shock treatment,
but it worked.

Oh, there was one more message.

A woman called. She didn't leave her
name. She called while I was out to

A woman?

You can ask Mr. Faulkner, but... Well,
he said the woman was a little

hysterical.

But that you would know who she was and
that it was very urgent that you meet

her tonight at 11 o 'clock.

Where? Did you say where?

Red's Reef.

The bar and grill.

Oh, Bill, please don't be upset. It's
probably just another customer. Leave me

alone.

think it's the same woman?

But hold on, I thought that was all in
his head.

The young woman, I don't know.

But if he sits waiting in the bar
someplace, Harry... Yeah, yeah.

Give me the name of the place.

Red's Reef.

Anything wrong with that drink?

What? It was likely to bring you
something up. No, no, this is fine right

Thanks. How would you know? You haven't
even paid. I'll get to it.

Okay.

You know you're going to get marked
absent at the AA meeting tonight. I

know how to manage without us.

Yeah, if it ever occurred to you, I
might not be able to manage without

Look, all this chasing in and around
after you, it is nothing good for me.

sorry, Harry.

Now, who told you I was here?

What difference does it make?

Look, let's... Cut out of here. Nobody's
going to show up. You're least of all a

dead wife.

Well, what about a live one, Harry? He
called me. Don't you try to tell me it

wasn't her.

Dana thought so, and I know so.

Okay, okay, okay. Maybe it's the same
girl you saw outside the Benson Hotel,

what difference does it make? Your wife
is dead. Can't you get that through your

head? You're probably trying to play
tricks on me. The only person playing

tricks on you is you yourself.

You're a psycho.

Maybe I'm just a dumb gasp. Here, take
this and leave me alone, will you?

Go on, take it. You're entitled.

Take it and get out of here.

You need anything?

Yeah.

Bring me another.

Where were you?

Why didn't you meet me?

What is it you want?

Well, just don't sit there.

Why are you doing this? Move!

Yes, yes, I have it.

Where are you now?

Yes, I know the corner.

Yes, right away.

Look, we close in ten minutes.

Why don't you take him home?

Bill, have you been drinking?

No, I'm not drunk, and I'm not insane,
Mr. Mason.

Is that a normal reaction?

To what?

To find out your wife isn't dead.

Only that she is now.

But that she hasn't been for all this
time.

I know I don't sound too coherent.

But, Mr. Mason, that is Ruth out in that
parking lot.

Had you arranged to meet her tonight?

She called my office.

And I waited for her at Red's Reef Bar.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And she never showed up. No.

So I decided to go home.

And that's when I found her.

Her head.

Mr.

Mason, what about the police?

Paul Drake's taking care of that.

All right, Bill.

Tell me what happened then.

Every move you made.

Well, I went out to look for a street
phone.

I tried to look up a doctor in the book,
but I couldn't.

So then I tore out to find help
someplace else.

And I stopped and thought, she's already
dead.

I thought I'd better call you.

No more service, Mac.

Well, Paul?

His wife isn't there. In fact, there's
no one in that parking lot, dead or

alive. There isn't even a car there
except yours, Mr. Sherwood. What is

gag? What are you trying to do to me?

Look, I told you I'm not drunk and I'm
not insane.

She was in that parking lot. It was
Ruth.

What kind of car was it?

I don't know.

A sedan, I think.

A rust -colored sedan.

A rental car. I looked on the
registration to see if Ruth's name was

Acme rent -a -car.

They stay open all night. Maybe I can
run it down.

Sure, I got a rented car, but I haven't
used it since 5 o 'clock.

I mean, if it's been in some kind of an
accident, I don't know anything about

it. So if you don't mind... Somebody
else was driving it tonight?

That's possible.

I loaned it to a friend of mine earlier.

I've been playing poker here at the
hotel all evening.

What's your name?

Did I say it was a woman?

I know it was, Mr. Cabot.

I'd just like to know who she is.

Why?

I mean, you've got to admit, this is a
bit strange. You come busting in here at

2 a .m. with a lot of questions, but you
don't give out a whole lot. Not just

because you have an ID that says
you're... Suppose she was in an

They didn't run?

Could be.

Nah, that still doesn't do it.

If somebody had been hurt, the police
would have been here.

If somebody's car smashed up, property
damaged, they'd quick hire a private

You've got to do better than that, Mr.
Drake.

Is your name Ruth Sherwood?

No.

Where have I heard that name before?

Oh, yeah, some character outside the
Benson Hotel. I got his card here

somewhere.

Lynn swore she didn't know him, though.

Whoever Lynn is, I'll bet she lied to
you.

Maybe she did me a favor.

Tell me one thing.

Is this big trouble?

It might be as big as murder.

All right, that does it.

Four four seven a Casino Road her name
is Lynn Bowman and tell her lots of luck

This

case is as wacky as you say it is it
means one final touch What does that

to have Lynn Bowman open this door?

If she does Paul you do the talking I'm
not prepared

Guess no one's home, anyway.

Better not touch your lives, Paul.

Too many neighbors.

Well, that's the right place.

Address to Lynn Bowman.

Now, bring the matches over here, Paul.

Hey, this gal does all right for
herself.

What are you looking for?

I want to see where he buys her clothes.

Madam Lily.

Same thing.

Paul, as fast as you can, start checking
that St. Louis plane crash.

What's your idea?

Well, the number of casualties matched
the plane's passenger list.

Let's see who might have died at Ruth
Sherwood's place.

And why.

All right, don't move.

Don't worry, Sergeant. We won't. May I
reach for my wallet? It says private

investigator. Yeah.

Looks more like a burglary to me.

My name is Mason. I'm an attorney.

We found the door open.

Do you know a woman named Lynn Bowman?

Nope. Do you?

All right.

Never mind the cracks.

You looking for Miss Bowman, Sergeant?

Traffic detail just found a rental car
on a ravine.

She was in it.

What happened?

Apparently drove through the guardrail
on the Hollywood Hills.

130 -foot drop.

You mean she's dead?

Yeah. Checking the address in her
wallet. Thought there might be some

Yes, there is one, Sergeant.

A sister.

Maggie Malik.

It's her.

It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.
It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.
It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.
It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's her. It's her. It's her. It's her.
It's her. It's her. It's her.

It's Poor Ruth.

Why did she assume the name of Linbo?

She... No.

No, I can't.

I can't.

Andy, tell me why you pretended she was
dead.

Somebody else is going to ask those
questions.

Barry,

the next time you ask me a question,
just bear in mind you're asking the

guy. What's the matter, Paul? Check on
the plane crash, he says. Find out who

died in your wife's place on the plane.

But with his wife's luggage, remember?

Are you saying that Ruth quit places
with another woman?

But why?

She was flying from Chicago to St.
Louis.

She was going to... Sure.

Why has she been using the name Lynn
Bowman ever since? Why did she dye her

hair? Why a million things?

Do you have some of the answers?

Perry, by the time I got a Chicago
agency on the job, they found 200 cops

already on it.

The police and federal aviation are the
guys that will have to solve your

riddle.

While I just sit here wishing I could
remember things straight when I drink.

Such as finding dead women in parking
lots.

But she was there, Mr. Mason. I got
blood on my hands. I got... All right,

right. Take it easy. I didn't strike out
entirely.

At least I got a rundown on this guy,
Kabat.

He was her boyfriend, wasn't he?

Well, he tried to be, I guess. Dated her
a few times.

Anyway, he came from Chicago, too.

When? A week or so after the plane
crash.

His job is investigator for a bonding
company.

Kabat's a detective?

His last assignment was a $200 ,000 bank
robbery, which took place the same day

that plane took off.

You mean Ruth might be mixed up in
something like that?

Oh, no, I can't believe it. At least it
might take you off the hook.

Della, find out if Mr. Cabot is
available.

Perry. It's all right, Dylan.

Sorry to interrupt, Perry, but I've just
come from the coroner's office.

Your wife, Mr. Sherwood, alias Lynn
Bowman, seems to have not only fatal

injuries, but marks of strangulation on
her throat as well.

She... She was murdered, then.

I guess you're not surprised.

Andy, I've just learned something from
Paul about the man named Cabot.

I know, Barry, I know.

But, unfortunately, it's your name on
this warrant, Mr. Sherwood.

No, Mr. Berger. Her death was not caused
by strangulation.

She died unquestionably as a result of
the blows on the back of her head. But,

Doctor, she was gripped strongly enough
about the neck to keep her quiet, to

keep her from crying out, for example.

Oh, yes, absolutely.

The other bruised marks I mentioned
would confirm that sort of struggle. And

such a struggle, could someone so
gripping her have cracked her head back

against some solid object with
sufficient force to cause the fatal

fracture? A strong man could certainly
do that, yes. A man in a drunken rage.

The outside top of the car door had
actually been dented at the same points

where we removed the blood and hair
samples I spoke about, both of which

the blood and hair of the deceased, of
course.

Now, Doctor, perhaps you heard the
fingerprint technician testify regarding

bloody fingerprints found on the car
door and on the dashboard and the

wheel column inside the car.

He identified these prints.

As those of the defendant, William
Sherwood.

Doctor, tell us, did you also examine
the bloody fingerprints?

I did and was present during laboratory
tests.

It was all the same blood, same type.
The defeats.

And the stains found on the jacket and
the handkerchief taken from the

next day? They were also the same blood
type, same as his wife's blood.

Thank you, Doctor.

Mr. Mason?

Doctor, can you positively state that
death was caused by her head striking

car? Well, there was certainly every
evidence that... Or could she have also

been struck by some other object?

I'm not questioning the struggle, mind
you.

Just asking if a person perhaps not
strong or in a rage could have added the

fatal blow. Yes.

Yes, that could have happened, I
suppose.

I testified, Mr. Mason, that when the
woman called the office, I asked her

but she wouldn't give it to me. She was
upset.

She sounded, uh, frightened.

But you knew what had been happening to
your junior partner?

Couldn't you have guessed or asked if
she was really his wife, Ruth Sherwood?

No. On me, she hung up.

At 11 o 'clock, she said he should meet
her urgent in that bar.

That's all I know, Mr. Mason. Nothing
else.

Mr. Falconer, when you accepted the
defendant as your partner, in what

was your company?

I needed business.

I needed money to go ahead.

And how is business now?

Oh, that boy William, he's a shot in the
arm.

Don't misunderstand.

Him I like.

We're full of new contracts, new deals,
new plans for production.

But what's the condition of the company?

Extended, in the middle, out on a limb.

That's why the drinking again so upset
me.

Trouble at a time like this, and a
hundred deals can fall.

And you still need money?

It's a sickness.

Who doesn't?

Gosh, I didn't mean to get sore and
leave Bill alone like that, but when

an alcoholic, it's not easy bouncing in
and out of bars for a buddy.

Didn't he also claim that he paid you to
leave him alone there waiting for the

woman? Yeah, I took some, but I don't
earn it like I used to, and the past

couple of days chasing him has caught
me. You and the defendant have been

buddies in the AA for quite some time,
haven't you, Mr. Nance?

Well, it wasn't until after I got fired
out of a trucking job in San Francisco

that I finally got a hold of myself, and
when Bill showed up in Whittier 2, new

to meetings, he said, let's hold hands.

So I get a couple of nights a week after
that. Then you have spent a great deal

of time with him, as a matter of fact.

Tell us, Mr. Niles, what did he say to
you about his wife during those long

nights when... Your Honor.

Nothing. Nothing bad about her. Bill
never said anything bad about anybody.

is not the kind of guy who could kill.

All right. All right. That's all.

I'll withdraw the question.

Now, think hard.

At what time did you leave the defendant
alone at Red's Reef? Search me.

But I got home about 11 .30. Figure it
out for yourself.

He had one shot, and then he had five
doubles.

You can't drink them fast.

Not even a guy like him. Then he waited
there alone for quite some time, in

other words.

Until quarter past 12, I'd say.

Yeah, that's right. It was a quarter
past 12.

Cross -examine, Mr. Mason.

I have no questions for this witness,
Your Honor.

But I would like to ask for a ten
-minute recess.

I don't know. I couldn't remember
everything. I didn't want to lie to you,

but... When you telephoned me, the clock
beside my bed said exactly 1 .30. All

right, yes, there is kind of a gap
there.

It's all you can drive a truck through.

From 12 .15 to 1 .30 is time enough to
kill someone, wreck a car, get back to

Yale for help, and an alibi.

Just wait till you hear Hamilton Burger
saying that.

Mr. Mason, will you please listen to me?
Will you please listen?

I told you I tried to call a doctor,
remember?

Well, the reason I couldn't was my hand
was fumbling on the dial. I couldn't

even read the print of your number.

So I went across the street, some other
place for a drink.

But honest, Mr. Mason, honest, you've
got to believe me, I didn't take it.

For the first time in my life, I stopped
right in the middle and I made myself

walk, walk, walk.

Oh, Lord, how did I ever tell you all
that?

Quite a price, isn't it?

To stop drinking and send yourself to
the gas chamber?

Mr. Mason, I didn't kill her. I didn't.

What about all that other stuff?

That new stuff of Mr. Drake?

The way Ruth acted?

The other people she knew?

Aren't you going to bring any of that
up?

I'm afraid they'll beat me to it, Bill.

I knew Ruth was in Los Angeles, of
course.

I knew she was using the name Lynn
Bowman.

I helped her make it up, as a matter of
fact.

Why did you do that, Miss Malachy?

Well, isn't it obvious?

She didn't want her husband to find her.

It was her business. I wasn't going to
interfere.

And that's why you lied to her husband
and to Mr. Mason when they came to your

shop asking about Ruth?

Well, I'm sorry about that, but I hadn't
anticipated such a... such a thing

happening.

I didn't know what else to say.

But how did you feel about people
thinking your sister had died in that

crash? Well, not very good, obviously.

But there was no other family to hurt by
lying.

I'm sorry, Bill, but Ruth simply hated
you. She told me if I didn't do exactly

what she said, she'd never speak to me
again.

She'd never see me again.

Now, Miss Malachy, to clarify this whole
situation, would you please explain to

the court how your sister happened to
avoid that plane crash?

Well, she meant to fly to St. Louis.

We had our ticket and everything.

And then just before she boarded the
plane, she went into the washroom.

There was a young woman there, having
hysterics, sobbing her heart out.

So Ruth told me they'd gotten a
conversation.

This other girl was coming to the coast.

Oh, she got mixed up in some love affair
and realized at the last moment that it

was all a mistake.

Well, Ruth had plenty to cry about, too.

Coming home to an alcoholic she couldn't
get rid of. To a man she should never

have married in the first place.

So when this girl suddenly said, why not
trade?

Why not switch tickets?

Well, that's how it happened.

That's exactly what they did.

They didn't have time to change the
luggage, I guess, and that was the only

identification that wasn't burned.

Miss Malachy, did your sister ever
mention the name of that woman? The

with whom she changed places?

Edie. He just spoke of her as Edie.

Yes, Edie. Edith Ross.

She'd been employed for two years as
assistant teller at the Chicago Great

Bank. And how did you become interested
in this Edith Ross woman, Mr. Caban?

Well, when I was assigned the case, the
bonding company wanted me to check into

the employees, naturally.

I discovered that this Edith Ross had
quit her job a couple of weeks before

robbery, but she'd been in and out of
the bank visiting after that.

I also found out she had made plans to
visit California. She had plane and

reservations. Do you think this Edith
Ross woman was actually involved in a

affair?

Well, if she was a part of the robbery,
she must have had a professional

accomplice, but no, she wasn't exactly
the romantic type.

I'd say anything she told Ruth Sherwood
in the washroom was just plain acting or

maybe panic. There were policemen all
over the Chicago airport.

Now would you clarify for us, please,
your own subsequent actions?

Well, I figured Edith Ross was at least
worth a trip to L .A. for questioning.

When I got here, I discovered somebody
had used her plane ticket and hotel

reservation for one night.

The only trouble was the hotel people
gave me a description that didn't fit

Edie. So from there on in, it was
nothing but legwork.

I finally tracked down this Lynn Bowman.

and found out he was a friend of the
Malachy woman.

I also tripped on to the fact that Miss
Malachy had a sister who supposedly died

in a plane crash, but her face sort of
resembled a slim bowman.

So I put two and two together, and I
figured I was on the right track.

And then you struck up an acquaintance
with the deceased.

Yes, I dated her several times.

She'd meet me downtown. She was a girl
who liked a good time, but I didn't tip

my hand.

If she was a part of the robbery, well,
that's when I dreamed up the idea of

having her bump into her husband.

Wait a minute. You arranged this?

Yes, I did.

When I discovered Sherwood lived in the
area, I figured this was the way to

confirm her identity and also throw a
little care into the lady, too.

And what did you do, Mr. Caban?

I took her to the Benson Hotel where I
learned Sherwood was attending a sales

meeting. Well, he saw similarity, I
guess, but the girl, she didn't even bat

eyelash. She even laughed about it later
and said, who was that creep?

And I guess she felt sorry because she
called him and told him she never even

heard of any Ruth Sherwood.

Mystic at that. Don't tell me after all
your painstaking investigation.

That's right, Mr. Berger. After all my
hard work, I goofed. She had me fooled

completely. I thought I got the wrong
dame. And did you ever see her again?

No. But you loaned her your car.

Sure, why not? I had no need for the car
or the girl anymore.

As a matter of fact, I was packing to
leave for Chicago the next day when I

learned the real truth.

The real truth, Mr. Caban?

That I'm a lousy detective.

I'm not doing so well myself, Eric.

Nothing more from Chicago?

Nothing more on Ruth Sherwood's source
of income? What about safe deposit boxes

and savings accounts?

Nothing. And Maggie Malachy?

Just the credit record I gave you. We
should leave, Paul. I'm going to stop at

couple of bars this evening.

Well, now we're getting to... Why, you
visit the real estate board. Huh? And

chiefs, did you?

Perry, what in the name of... Wait a
minute. Perry.

I got it.

Mr. Cabat.

Do you smoke?

Huh? This is a cross -examination.

Mr. Cabot, I'm allowed to ask you
questions?

Well, sorry, sir. No, as a matter of
fact, I don't smoke.

Why do you need matches, then? To light
your way in the dark, perhaps?

Your Honor.

If it please the court, I'll show the
relevancy of this in a moment.

Well, you better do it quickly, Mr.
Mason, and go on.

I show you this match cover, Mr. Cabot.

Do you recall giving it to my
investigator, Mr. Drake?

Drake?

Oh, sure, in my hotel room.

Well, I'd been playing poker that
evening, and, you know, you pick those

up to light somebody's cigarette.

I'll show you another match cover.

Also rather distinctive in design.

In fact, an exact duplicate, wouldn't
you say?

Yeah, I guess so.

Then both match covers probably came
from the same place, wouldn't you agree?

I could have, I guess, but I... My point
is this.

I saw Mr. Drake pick this one up in Ruth
Sherwood's apartment.

Your Honor.

I've only permitted this line of
questioning so far.

I am the one who permits the
questioning, Mr. Berger. Go on, Mr.

When did you pick up your matches from
the apartment, Mr. Cabot?

If it will help you to recall, we were
there a couple of hours after the

The apartment had been ransacked by
someone.

Look, I dated Lynn or Ruth, whoever she
was.

Maybe I did pick up matches there
sometimes, but that doesn't mean... But

you testify that you always met downtown
for your dates?

Those matches could be sold in 5 ,000
different places.

Maybe. But now can you tell us what
happened to the $200 ,000 taken from

Chicago bank last year?

Mr. Mason, the police know more about
that than I do. The money could be

scattered anywhere.

The bills weren't marked.

Besides, I worked for the bonding
company, remember?

Yes, I remember.

So your only interest is in protecting
possible loss of any employee bond on

Edie Ross, is that correct?

Yes, that's all.

Then why haven't you submitted an
accurate expense account for your

investigation? What? Your Chicago office
informed me that your expenses here

have been quite moderate in proportion
to a job of such size.

But my own investigator suggests that
you've really spent a great deal more

you've reported.

Well, I don't like to pad an account
with my personal fame. You mean you've

spending your own money on this job?

Why?

Because you hope to grab hold of much
bigger money?

No, I mean...

Look, any detective hopes to collect a
bonus in case he does find missing

Collect a bonus or keep the missing
money himself.

What's your theory, Mr. Kabat, that the
$200 ,000 came to Los Angeles and Edie

Ross' luggage?

Luggage which must have been claimed by
the deceased?

All right, maybe I did think that once,
but... There was no other reason for

your seeing so much of the deceased, was
there?

I don't see how that has... No other
reason for ransacking her apartment that

night.

Do I have to ask for a recess, Mr.
Gabat, so the police may go over the

apartment again for your fingerprints?

So they can check your poker game alibi?

All right, yes.

Yes, I did go there, but I didn't find
anything. Why did you go?

Why did you take such a chance?

It wasn't because I knew she was dead,
if that's what you mean.

I... I discovered that she made a date
to meet her husband.

She... I hadn't been fooled by her yet.

I was worried that maybe I pushed her
too far because she was getting panicky.

So when I was sure who she was the night
before, I just came out and asked her

about the money.

So I went out to that bar, too, Red's
Reef.

When she didn't show up, I suddenly
realized she could be halfway out of

You see, I didn't know she was dead. I
didn't kill her. Why didn't you tell the

police the entire story, Mr. Cabot? Do
you still think you know where the money

is?

She had no big bank accounts, no safe
deposit boxes. Where do you think it is,

Mr. Cabot?

After all, don't you consider yourself
the only one who figured this whole

out?

Yeah.

Yeah, I was the only one till now.

Where, Mr. Cabot?

Well, her sister has a dress shop.

She's been expanding.

That takes money, see?

So, I figure maybe her sister.

That's a lie.

I never even heard of that money.

I never got one penny from Ruth. It's my
pleasure.

You're lying. You're lying. You're
lying. How dare you say that about me?

was my sister.

It's all right, Miss Malachy.

As Mr. Cabot himself stated, he's not a
very good detective.

Because whoever killed Ruth Sherwood
could have choked the information out of

her and known exactly where to look.

So who other than you could have
determined where to find Ruth in the

place?

Well, how about a supposed alcoholic?

Who I discover often takes just a single
drink when he's in bars alone.

Or a supposed former truck driver who
has apparently never joined any union.

Who are you really, Harry?

Aren't you the one person who could have
tracked this case even better than

Cabot? No. You got it all wrong.

Aren't you Edie's professional
accomplice? Aren't you the bank robber

Then Ruth actually had all that money.

She found it in Edie's suitcase, but
still afraid to spend it, I guess.

They found a Santa Barbara locker key in
Harry's room.

He admitted that he took it from your
wife's keys.

After he left you in the bar, he ran
smack into her outside. The woman he'd

looking for all these months.

She really was panicky. Maybe even
coming to you for help after the pushing

around Cabot had been giving her.

That's when Harry killed her?

I don't believe that was his intention,
but he was desperate.

He told her he knew she had the money
and...

Forced her to tell him where it was.

But he choked too hard.

Hit too hard.

It must have happened just before you
came staggering out.

Well, at least he didn't blame it on
you, Bill.

No, then he dumped the car in a ravine,
figuring that you were too loaded to

remember what you'd seen.

All that time he spent hoisting me on
the wagon was just in hopes that I would

lead him to her, huh?

Cabot followed her, Harry followed you.
Finally, the circle was complete.

Just because he's a bank robber and a
murderer doesn't mean there's anything

wrong with that wagon, you know.

Well, the whole thing's left me just a
little bit shaky.

Well, come on, everybody.

It's on me.

Bill.

Well, just a little screwdriver. We'll
split it.

William.

You have the vodka.

I'll have the orange juice.

Ladies.