All language subtitles for perry_mason_s08e09_tragic_trophy

THE END

You're late, Pete.

Well, by the time a fellow finds a
parking place, he ought to walk to begin

with.

Horses was better anyway.

Here's Reeve, the safety deposit key.

Like to ride back out with us?

No. I'm going to get that jalopy back.

Got to tank up first.

You or the jalopy?

Well, I guess it is me, Mr. Malone, and
not the jalopy people call real and

Pete.

Can't disappoint the public now, can I?

Take it easy, Pete.

Always do.

One glass at a time.

Sure beats me.

An armored car to bring a shoebox out to
Sunday.

You've been there with the armored car
company, haven't you?

Murphy, don't tell me you've been
through this routine for the whole day

before. Son, your company's paid the
guaranteed delivery.

But what, to whom, and why may worry the
insurers?

It's not a matter for your personal
concern.

Sorry, no offense meant.

Not taken.

Do you ever eat a two -inch steak, hit
broiled in rock salt?

That's not fair, Mr. Malone. I had an
early breakfast.

Looks like you never read about the town
of Burgess, about Areva Burgess, the

shoebox in the vault.

Doesn't ring any bells.

Well, we don't do this very often, but
the few times we have, Mrs. Burgess has

been very thankful. That old dame you
were talking about just happens to be

of the sweetest women that you'll ever
meet. And Mr. Malone wasn't kidding

the steak.

Got a couple of new boys here this
morning. Morning, Mal. Should we go

Sure.

I'm gone. I forgot your vault key again.

Well, I don't mind coming back again
this afternoon with it.

Maybe we could... Just send someone out
with it. That'll be all right.

Cut the ribbon, Mal.

You're upset about something, Reba.

What's wrong?

Fill the box now.

Ribbons are getting tattered.

We'll need new ones soon.

Old ribbons to replace, old wood to
burn, old wine to drink, and old friends

trust, Reba.

Better get going now.

I don't want your boys to miss lunch.

the matter about Mrs. Burgess. I mean,
she looks kind of put out.

I don't know.

She's put out and we're put on.

Paper oil steak.

I'm not sure.

I don't know. Four grown men on a truck
to give a woman a chance to play games

with a ratty old shoebox.

That's what I call being catered to.

And why not?

We'd cater to you, too, if you'd use our
vaults to store a ratty old shoebox

with one million dollars worth of uncut
diamonds inside of it.

It sure is good of you, Reba, to set
everything aside to see me.

Your telegram sounded urgent.

It's been a long time, hasn't it? I
suppose so.

Thought you'd offer me a drink?

Mr. Baskin, you closed down my husband's
company.

Put half the town out of work and then
disappeared.

You can hardly expect me to be happy to
see you again.

That's not quite the way it happened,
you know. It wasn't.

All right.

My husband wasn't a very good
businessman.

But it killed him.

Broke his heart and killed him.

I suppose you know that.

You two are always off, heaven alone
knows where, making interesting coffee

Sunday supplements.

As pinch -hitting manager for the
company, I only did what I thought was

necessary. I know.

You just don't bring back very nice
memories, that's all.

Do you think I should have behaved
differently, taken other steps, perhaps?

Your wire said you were returning to
town. You needed help.

No, not help, Reba.

Money.

I don't take any salary.

No profit since I reopened the company.
I own very little personally.

Very little besides two million dollars
in negotiable instruments. Little shiny,

uncut negotiable instruments.

I could let you have a few thousand.

A few thousand?

You know, you're as mixed up as your
husband's books were.

Bascom, I warn you.

Yes?

How much?

Well, let me see.

Burgess Mining Company must be worth two
million.

Roughly half of that, a million dollars.

What are you talking about? What half?

I have this document.

A document signed by your late husband.
You can check it if you like. I have a

photostatic copy, of course.

But this document names me a full
partner in Burgess Mining Company.

Well, the court awarded your husband's
entire estate, including the company, to

you as his sole survivor?

My husband died without a will.

He had no family.

The company was his, separate property
inherited from his father before we were

married. And the diamonds?

They were mine alone.

Mr. Mason, there is no question that the
signature on that agreement is my

husband's. But wouldn't his death
invalidate a thing like that?

a fairly standard clause here.

The death of either partner shall not
dissolve the firm.

The business shall be continued by the
surviving partner with the admission of

the heir of the deceased partner in his
stead.

So, in theory, Carl Baskin could sue to
have you declared trustee for his half

of the business.

Half? Of the assets.

Of the profits since the date of the
agreement.

Half of all future profits if the
agreement is valid, of course.

Well, do you think it's valid?

Well, it's properly drawn, properly
signed.

Yes, it could be valid.

Suppose we make a thorough check of the
company books and records.

There must be some notation supporting
or contradicting.

Well, that won't be necessary.

May I have a bat, please?

Mrs. Burgess, there's no problem.

We can legally forestall action by
Baskin until we learn exactly what the

situation was at the time of your
husband's death.

I know all that I have to know. May I
have the agreement, please?

Mrs. Burgess, a situation like this
calls for much more investigation.

the situation calls for, I will do
alone.

Good afternoon, Mr. Mason.

Miss Street.

old job back, huh?

Foreman again.

That it, Kelly? Get out of here before I
throw you out.

I'll tell you a secret, Kelly.

I'm really half owner of this mine, and
when I take over, my first official act

will be to fire you again.

You are what?

What are you guys doing in here?

Billy, did you let this bum in?

No. Oh, we'd better throw him out fast.
The boss is out front. She's coming in.

Mr. Reel and Pete, you just lost your
job, too.

I did who?

What are you... Reba.

You're late.

We didn't cut across the mine property
to my house.

Of course, it's a lovely evening.

Well, gentlemen, we can pick up where we
left off some other time.

Reba?

And him like he... I'll be a... Kelly,
what's been going on here?

They told me up at the house that Reba
was here.

Who's left?

What's your big hurry, Mr. Malone?

Baskin. Carl Baskin. I just found out
he's come back to town.

Well, if you're figuring on surprising
Reba with that bad news, she just walked

out of here with that man.

What? I just found him in here alone,
just before she showed up.

I don't know what he was doing here.

He was here alone?

Yeah.

Kelly, do you mind if we check inside,
see if anything's been disturbed or

taken? No, come on.

I wish Reba wouldn't leave things lying
around like...

Nothing

disturbed around here that I can see.

Maybe what he was looking for he didn't
find.

I wonder.

Mr. Baskin, finish checking the vault,
sir. Thank you, Kendrick.

I hope you found everything in order.

Oh, old bills and insurance stuff, still
in there just the way I left them. Why,

I still have a $72 balance, they tell
me.

It's no business of the bank where old
customers go or what they leave behind,

as long as the charges are paid.

You have a good bank here, Mal, a real
good bank.

Now, one of these days, real soon, we'll
have to sit down, you and I, and have a

good talk.

I'll be in the market for some
properties, investments, that sort of

Yes, sir, you might be just the man for
me.

We try to be of service.

All right, take care of yourself now.

We'll be talking.

Why, very lovely, Mrs. Minor.

Absolutely lovely.

Good day to you.

Good day.

Oh, that was a big fuss, all right.

Court fight parades, threats of the man
that Baskin had fired.

Pulling a sit -down strike at the mines.
Man, this whole town was up in arms.

No wonder this guy Baskin was so
unpopular.

Here's mud in your eye, friend.

After he closed down the mines, what
happened?

He hung around a couple of months and up
and left town.

Is that about the same time that Jim
Burgess had his heart attack?

The day before, as I remember.

Let me see.

It was a Friday or a Saturday.

Wait a minute.

Hey, Carl.

Hello, Pete. What's on your mind?

Carl, old friend.

Was it a Friday night or a Saturday
night that Jim Burgess died?

Well, sir, to me, I wasn't here.

Well,

Burgess, Pete, the police. How are you,

boy?

Yeah, you're still nursing that ulcer, I
see, huh?

Do you mind if I join you?

Free gentry.

Hey, that stranger sitting next to Reel
and Pete, you don't happen to know who

he is?

His name's Paul Gregg, private
detective.

Detective? Yeah, and why?

Oh, it's not important.

Got him with his car license.

Pretty easy to spot a bird like that
snooping around town.

Word for some big -time L .A. lawyer.

Mrs. Burgess' lawyer.

Name of Perry Mason, no?

No, no, no. I don't know him.

Want a drink?

Some other time. Excuse me.

I mean, now there's a lawyer and a
detective involved in it. I'm not going

stand still for it. Do you hear me?

I'm not going to stand still for it.

I guess you know Jim Byrd just keeled
over with a heart attack.

Apparently, Carl Baskin left town the
day before.

Do you know where Baskin has been since
then, Paul?

Yeah, South America. I just got a report
on him.

Evidently, Baskin was pretty flush when
he arrived there.

But he finally picked all the fruit off
the money tree, and now he's pretty

close to being broke.

Well, stay on it. Let me know if... I
sure will, Dorothy.

Only, uh, later, okay?

Like I said, honey, right now I'm broke.

I'll see you for a moment.

Well, well.

Back to soon, Baskin. I'd like to get
back into the safety deposit box again,

you don't mind.

I'm rather in a hurry.

Of course, yeah.

Sign the slip?

Mr. Malone?

Yes, Jenkins.

One of the customers has been raising a
fuss about the charges for some checks.

He just insists on seeing you, sir.

I'll be right over. Thank you.

into the vault, into his own box, and
make sure that he isn't disturbed.

What? I don't want anybody or anything
to disturb him until he finishes his

and he's come outside again.

Did he get that?

I'm going across the street for a few
minutes.

Yes, sir. He left several minutes ago.

Emptied his box, apparently.

Mr. Malone, I'm rather disturbed about
something.

About what?

Well, when Mr. Baskin left the vault and
I went in to lock his box, I stopped

and talked to Mrs. Munger for a minute.

When I came back out, Baskin was still
in the bank.

He was just straightening up and walking
away from your desk.

My desk?

Mr. Malone, you left the drawer with the
vault keys open.

I closed it. Of course, none of the keys
were missing.

Get Reba Burgess on the telephone.

Hurry.

I couldn't find Reba, Mr. Malone.

She just took off someplace.

Here, is this what you want? Yes,
thanks, Pete.

I'll get it back to her.

Kinder.

Yes, sir.

Go out and find Chief of Police Pollock
for me.

Pollock? Yes, bring him back here.

Fast. Hurry. Yes, sir.

You understand it's important. What's
up?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

But you said... Never mind what I said.
It was a mistake, a misunderstanding.

And that's all?

I'm very sorry, Chief, if I've disturbed
you.

If you'll excuse me.

The door just happened open.

Hello? Yeah.

I'll be right down.

Get the car ready.

Someone gave Baskin one lift out to the
Burgess mine.

About an hour right now.

We might as well do our charging and the
car on the way. Let's go.

fallen into the sluice and drowned.

Well, down he goes.

He's dead.

Hi, Barry. Welcome to Burgess. Hello,
Paul.

Well, maybe you've gone straight out to
see Reba.

Well, at 3 .30 in the morning, I find it
isn't so easy to rent a car in this

place. Besides, I wanted to find out
what you had first.

Well, let's see.

Inside the late Mr. Baskin's pocket was
discovered a wet leather pouch, four by

eight inches in size.

A diamond pouch, perhaps?

Mm -hmm.

And inside?

We haven't finished outside yet.

The wet leather pouch was neatly and
prettily tied with an equally wet

Ribbon? Same kind of a ribbon a certain
well -known attorney's well -known

client uses to tie pretty little bows on
a shoebox he keeps in a bank vault.

Inside the pouch, Paul?

Nothing. Well, practically nothing.

Just traces of a sticky syrupy
substance, my informant assures me, was

sugar. And the authorities decided
whether Bascom's death was accidental or

suicidal, or homicidal.

Murder, Perry. Only it wasn't by
drowning.

Bascom was shot and then dumped in a
sluice.

I hesitate to ask if there's something
more.

There is.

The murder gun appears to be one
belonging to Reba Burgess.

That's time to open the doors.

Wait till Mr. Malone comes out. He and
Mrs. Burgess are in the vault checking

over a safe deposit box.

I always thought Baskerman would end up
dead someday.

No good. Never was.

But he was always so polite to me.

Let me tell you.

Did you want to see me, Mr. Jenkins?

Mrs. Munger? It's past opening. Shall I
have Murphy unlocked?

In just a moment.

Are those reports finished, Mrs. Munger?

Almost, sir.

Are your diamonds secure, Mrs. Burgess?

Why should they be?

Of course, you'd know if somebody
tampered with the ribbons on that

wouldn't you? Oh, yes, yes, I've noted.

I guess, actually, there really isn't
any reason why you shouldn't return to

Angeles now, is there, Mr. Mason?

Apparently, you wish I would.

Oh, no, no, I merely thought... Like I
said, Mr. Mason, thanks for coming, but

just because someone takes my gun and
shoots somebody with it doesn't mean

I need a lawyer hanging around to say it
wasn't me.

Rib has never had any trouble standing
up for herself, Mr. Mason.

Besides, that stupid Bascom getting
himself killed has solved all my

problems.

So I agree, if you feel paying Bascom's
earnings to his heirs is preferable to

paying him.

I don't think he had any family, any
heirs.

But you don't know, do you, Mrs.
Burgess?

Suppose there are heirs.

What then?

Under the partnership agreement, they
have the same right as Mrs. Burgess.

They could sue for half the business,
even force liquidation.

Well, there must be some other way.

If there are heirs.

That's right, Mr. Malone.

Of course, Mrs. Burgess could always buy
out their interest if necessary.

Buy out with what?

With your fortune and diamonds.

I assume that two keys are required to
open your bank's safety deposit boxes.

One bank key and one customer's key.

That's just it. They were sure that
Baskin was in the mine shack that night,

searching the place.

I heard Mr. Malone telling Murphy, our
bank guard.

What else did you hear Mr. Malone say?

That... That's when Mr. Bascom could
have taken Reba Burgess' key.

There was wax on it, Mr. Malone said.

Like somebody had taken an impression.

You know, to have a duplicate made.

That's very interesting, Mr. Kinder.

I hope this helps Mrs. Burgess, Mr.
Mason.

But I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't
mention my coming here and talking to

At least not to Mr. Malone.

I don't think he'd understand it.

No, perhaps he wouldn't.

Well, bye.

Mr. Kinsey.

Thank you.

Well,

the bill's paid and I just checked you
out, but you've only got about 15

to catch the plane.

I'll cancel it.

Check us into this room again, at least
for tonight.

But why? If Reba Burgess insists, she
won't let you represent her.

But I can still give her some free
advice.

Miss Burgess, I'm sorry that my attitude
seems to annoy you.

Believe me, I'm...

Not trying to press my services.

It's nothing personal, Mr. Mason. It's
just that I don't need a lawyer right

now, that's all.

Miss Burgess, Reba, excuse me for
buttoning in.

And as for you, Chief Pollack, I think
I've given you all the information and

help that I possibly can.

I'm sorry, ma 'am.

But I have a warrant here ordering your
arrest for the murder of Carl Bascom.

Comparison test proved the bullet that
killed Carl Bascom was fired from that

pistol. The pistol registered to the
defendant, Reba Burgess.

Sergeant, where did you find this gun on
the night of the murder?

Attention, Your Honor. Murder has not
been established.

Well, then, on the night Bascom was
killed... Same objection, Your Honor.

Carl Bascom's death could have been an
accidental or suicidal.

All right.

All right.

On the night that Bascom... Now, Mr.
Clark, will you permit me time to rule

Mr. Mason's objections?

Sorry, Your Honor.

Sustained. On the night that Carl Bascom
died, where

was this gun found?

I found the gun at the foot of the
Burgess Mining Company's number two

It was buried in about three feet of
tailings, concealed under a muddy refuse

that wouldn't ordinarily be touched
again.

Yes, Mrs. Burgess showed me a copy of
the partnership agreement that Bascom

given her.

She wanted me to check her figures on
how much was involved, how much she

be liable for, what Bascom's share would
be worth.

In other words, if the partnership were
valid.

And you helped her with that
information, Mr. Kelly?

Yes, I told her a half -interest, a
legitimate half -interest.

Might come to a matter of a million
dollars or more.

What was the defendant's reaction to all
this?

She was upset.

Upset, Mr.

Kelly? You've got to understand. For a
long time, the Burgess Mining Company

didn't seem to exist for anything but to
pay for Jim Burgess traipsing around

the world.

Things just kept running downhill.

When Bascom shut down the company for
Burgess, he claimed it was either that

eat up every bit of the outfit's
reserve.

But then, after Burgess died, his widow
took over.

Yes, she took over the company and got
it operating the way it should have

but never had.

I guess, in a way, it was sort of a
substitute for her losing her husband.

Her whole life.

And then Carl Bascom reappeared,
threatening that life.

As a partner, Bascom could exercise his
right to a cash buyout of his interest.

It would have been the end of the
company, at least as far as Burgess was

concerned. Was that the only way that
she could have brought Bascom out?

With company money?

No, I explained to her she could have
made a deal with Bascom, given him some

that million dollars in diamonds she had
in the vault.

And maybe... Thank you, Mr. Kelly.

You're a witness, Mr. Mason.

I understand, Mr. Kelly, that you
operate the mining company for Mrs.

Under her direction, yes.

Including supervision of the company's
books and records?

Yes, sir.

Did you also supervise the books and
records when the decedent Carl Baskin

in charge of the company on those
occasions when the Burgesses were

No, I had nothing to do with the books
at that time.

Then you wouldn't know personally
whether there'd ever been a record of

partnership between... Bascom and Mr.
Burgess.

I doubt if anyone will ever know that.

Why not, Mr. Kelly?

We had a fire in the office one night.

When was that?

A couple of days after Mr. Burgess died.

Were the records destroyed?

Some were.

I imagine that made operating the
company even more difficult.

I don't know how she did it.

Mrs. Burgess personally reorganized
everything, got me in to help her as

superintendent.

And things have been running like
clockwork ever since.

Couldn't Carl Bascom have helped in
recreating the missing records?

No, he left town.

Left the country, I guess.

The day before Jim's death.

When was the first time you saw Bascom
after he returned?

Down at the mine shack when he claimed
he was waiting to meet Miss Burgess. Why

do you say claim, Mr. Kelly?

From what I saw.

From what Greal and Pete and I both saw.

I had a feeling maybe...

Baskin was looking for something.

Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is
eliciting nothing but opinions and

from this witness.

Sustained. I have no further questions.

Mr. Clark.

No redirect.

I call Mr.

Peter Pridewell to the stand.

Sure, sure.

He made out like he was waiting for
Reba.

But mark my words, Mr. Kelly was right.

Baskin was looking for something in that
shack. That wasn't my question.

I guess I did forget what it was you did
ask me. I asked you whether you knew

for a fact that the defendant, Reba
Burgess, had made an appointment to meet

decedent, Carl Baskin, on the night in
question.

Yes, yes, she said she was supposed to
meet him. All right, all right.

Now, she said it, and he said it.

The two of them met. They left the shack
together, headed for her house talking.

But you are still skeptical.

Well, I don't know whether I'm what you
said I was skeptical or not, but I sure

doubt it. But she did keep her
appointment to see Colonel Baskin.

But it don't make sense.

Ever since that man came back into this
town, Reba, she's been different.

And Baskin?

When he walked out of that shack with
her, he looked like he owned the whole

world and Reba Burgess.

I wanted to jam my fist down his throat.

But you didn't.

No.

But I fixed him anyway.

Bascombe came into the bar where I was
talking to that detective fellow, Paul

Drake.

I called Bascombe over.

I asked him a question.

He's seen a ghost, that Bascombe.

He's scooted away from us, scared as
anything.

Frightened is the only word I can think
of, sir.

When Carl Bascombe hurried out of the
bank that last time, he was a frightened

man. Mr. Kinder.

From your position, aside from the
decedent, did you see anyone else go

vault while the decedent was there?

No, sir. He was alone. As a matter of
fact, Carl Baskin was the last customer

enter the vault between then and the
time we locked it up for the day. And

you present on a later day when Mrs.
Burgess' safe deposit box was opened

pursuant to a court order?

Yes, sir, I was.

Would you tell the court exactly what
you witnessed at the time that box was

officially opened?

Well... Mrs. Burgess's old shoebox was
still there.

But the sealed ribbon that secured it
had been torn away.

And the box was completely empty.

We've heard testimony suggesting that a
duplicate of Mrs.

Burgess's safe deposit box key might
have been made from a wax impression.

Now, you said that Baskin was in that
vault alone on the afternoon preceding

murder.

Yes, sir.

Would you say that he was in there long
enough to have opened and emptied not

only his own safety deposit box, but
Mrs. Burgess's as well?

Now, understand, Mr. Kinder, I'm not
asking you to testify this is what

happened, only whether or not he was in
there long enough to have done such a

series of acts.

Mr. Mason, do you wish to object to the
question in its present form?

Obviously loaded hypothetical question.

I'm sure Your Honor will give such
testimony the probative weight it

No, the witness may answer the question
as stated.

All right, Mr. Kinder.

Mr. Bascom was in there long enough to
have emptied both safe deposit boxes.

Thank you, Mr. Kinder.

Your witness, did you tell anyone that
you suspected Bascom of theft?

I told you.

No one else?

Well, a few minutes after Bascom left
the bank, Reba Burgess phoned about

something else.

And, well, I, yes, I told, I told Mrs.
Burgess.

Finding out that Drake was a detective
who worked for Mrs.

Burgess's lawyer scared Bascom, no
question of it.

From then on, I kept a pretty close
watch.

Bascom was getting more and more jumpy.

Finally, he made a plane reservation
back to South America, as we can show.

Also, he bought a briefcase with a lock
on it.

Obviously, he needed something safe to
carry the diamonds in, so I didn't...

Just tell us what the police actually
know about that briefcase.

Well, later, at the hotel, a bellboy saw
Bascom close and lock all his bags.

Then Bascom left.

He came back about a half an hour later
to pick them up.

Instead, he came running down to the
lobby, all excited, wanting to know who

been to his room.

and who had tampered with his briefcase.

Then he ran out of the hotel and tore
off in the direction of the mob.

Who had been to his room?

In the half hour that Bascom was gone,
someone claiming to have an appointment

with Bascom, someone highly respected in
this town, was given a key to his room

to wait for him there. A few minutes
later, this person came down, returned

key, and left.

And who was that person?

I was a young anthropologist, just out
of college.

I stumbled across those diamonds of mine
in an African cave.

It was shortly after that that I met and
married Jim.

He wasn't the least bit interested in
the value of the diamonds, only the fact

that I had found them.

My husband was the most amazing man.

He risked his life in the wildest parts
of the world to find things no one else

had found. In the Mato Grosso, he found
a riverbed with gold nuggets and the

biggest golf balls exposed in the
gravel.

All you had to do was stoop down and
pick them up.

But he wouldn't stoop.

Can you understand a man like that?

A man whose only satisfaction was not in
having, merely in finding something.

We were always away on trips.

Carl Baskin kept writing, warning Jim
that the mining company was in trouble.

And Jim finally listened when he said
that the government was about to become

involved. Government? After we got back
to town that last time, Baskin showed

Jim where the accounts were mixed up.

Where $75 ,000 in tax funds Mark paid
had never been received by the

That's a prison offense.

Yes, Jim was all upset naturally.

He hadn't been well, but he did tell me
that Baskin was helping him with a plan

to fix everything.

I never did find out what it was because
I had to go to San Francisco for a few

days. And when I got back, Baskin had
already walked out and left Jim. When I

got to the office, I found Jim dead from
a heart attack.

Your company records don't show a tax
delinquency.

No. The hard Jim juggled the appellant.

how he desperately tried to cover up his
mistakes, only making things worse than

they were.

I thought to it that none of that was
left in the records.

A little fire in the office?

I fixed what I could in the books and
what I couldn't fix I burned.

Look, everything was in such a mess. How
did you get the company going? I mean,

the tax funds alone, $75 ,000.

Your diamonds, ten pouches, $100 ,000
worth of uncut diamonds in each pouch.

That's where the tax money came from.

Where the rest of the money came from.
Took over nine pouches, quietly disposed

of, for the company that was in the
black.

But all that publicity of yours, a
million dollars worth of diamonds in the

shoebox.

Made good Sunday supplement readings.

And helped establish my personal credit.

But I saw the picture.

You, the shoebox.

The open pouch of diamonds.

Remember the pouch found on Batson's
body?

No diamonds, but a sweet, sticky
residue.

Look in the bag.

Rocking.

Just crystallized.

Go on, Reba.

When did you take the 10th pouch?

A few days ago.

When Baskin showed up saying he needed
money.

After I saw the partnership agreement, I
realized it wasn't nearly enough.

Then Baskin got very nervous.

Finally, the day before he was killed,
he said he'd settled for less than $100

,000.

Did you pay him?

No, I was going to. I raised the cash,
but I never saw him again.

What about the diamond pouch that was
found in his pocket?

It was the last one.

I'd stuffed it so I could put it back in
the vault.

Baskin must have found it while he was
waiting for me in the shack the night he

was killed because it wasn't there when
I looked later.

He also looked in his luggage at the
hotel for the other nine pouches.

You knew they were empty.

Why did you risk going to Bascom's room?

I had to.

Because of the bank.

Over a period of time, Mal Malone's bank
has made me loans for my payroll.

Made me loans on fraudulent security.

Mal Malone.

The one man that I wanted to hurt the
least, I hurt the most.

What have I done to him?

I wonder what he's done to you.

Well, let me think.

When Kinder got back to the bank with
the shooting police, I had already

Reba Burgess' safety deposit box in the
vault.

And found an empty shoebox.

How long was this after Carl Bascom had
left the vault?

Well, I can't be sure.

I'd been called out of the bank for 10,
15, possibly as long as 20 minutes.

Thank you.

No further questions?

Mr. Malone, obviously Mrs. Burgess'
safety deposit box had been robbed.

The chief of police was there.

But you didn't report the theft, did
you?

No, sir, I didn't.

Mr. Malone, the partnership agreement
between Jim Burgess...

And Bascom contained the standard clause
providing that conviction for a felony

of either partner would dissolve the
partnership and all rights of the

partner would revert to the other.

Oh, uh... You know that clause?

Mrs. Burgess had showed it to me, yes.

And now, Mr. Malone, tell us truthfully.
Why you negligently made it easy for

Bascom to take the key to Mrs. Burgess'
safety deposit box?

Were you hoping Bascom would be caught
with the contents?

Be charged with a felony, in other
words?

Well, I'm not quite sure I understand
the question.

Did you hope he'd be blamed for what you
already knew was missing from that box?

I refuse to answer on the grounds of
self -incrimination.

As of course you do.

As a banking official involved in
occasional loans to Mrs. Burgess, you

scarcely admit to knowledge of the true
value of her security. Now, could you?

Why did you change your mind?

When you opened the box that day, did
you find something you didn't expect?

What? Perhaps a note warning that if the
theft were reported, the ancient truth

about Jim Burgess would be made public?

What? What ancient truth?

I know Jim Burgess. He was an honest
man.

Isn't it possible that Burgess was once
tricked into thinking he was responsible

for his company's financial troubles?

Perhaps even tricked into forming a
partnership with a man who offered to

alleviate those troubles.

By a man who was quite capable of
juggling the books, even capable of

company money as his own.

Well, I'll admit Jim wasn't much of a
businessman.

But I never really knew what actually
happened between Jim and Carl Bascom.

Because it was then that Burgess died
and Bascom left for South America.

Well, the other way around.

Bascom left the day before Jim died.

Are you sure?

You know, no one in this case seems to
be quite sure of that.

I don't really... Mr. Malone, haven't
you wondered about Bascom's strange

behavior since then, staying so long in
South America, but when elsewhere he had

a valid partnership agreement worth a
million dollars?

Elsewhere? Then he returned, to attract
everyone's attention by his extreme

nervousness, his fear of investigators.

Mr. Malone, can you explain why Bascom
would have been willing to sell...

That partnership for less than $100
,000?

No. No, he can't.

Is there an explanation for his
behavior?

Unless he did not leave the day before
Jim Burgess died, unless Jim Burgess had

discovered something that resulted in a
fight and his heart attack, a death

which the courts and Bascom could look
upon only as murder.

Perhaps you can't answer that, Mr.
Malone, but you can tell us from your

memory of those days when you last saw
Mr. Baskin.

Oh, well, that was the day before Jim
died.

Like I told you, Mr. Mason, Baskin came
into the bank all excited and had

something to put in the safety deposit
box.

Something for which he never came back?

Yes. Did you ever see that something?

Well, it was a piece of paper, a folded
paper.

Approximately the size of the
partnership agreement.

Yes, it could have been. He merely put
the folded paper into his safety deposit

box. No, he asked for a bank envelope,
signed his name to it, and then...

When was the next time Carl Bascom came
into your bank to go into his safety

deposit box?

A few days ago. And that was after he'd
shown Reba Burgess the partnership

agreement. After she had shown it to
you.

Yes. In that bank envelope with Carl
Bascom's name handwritten on the

But that's impossible?

Yes, Mr. Malone, that's impossible.

Unless someone else took that agreement
from the bank vault for him.

Unless Bascom had an accomplice. Someone
who persuaded Bascom to return.

Persuaded him that it was now safe to
return.

But the bank vault, that agreement was
in... Oh, yes.

Baskin's accomplice had to be a man with
access to the safety deposit boxes at

your bank.

But I'm the only one with that
authority.

Oh, no.

I didn't do it. Look here, Mason.

Perhaps Baskin's accomplice never
realized how frightened Baskin was about

Burgess' death. Never realized how
quickly Baskin might panic.

But he must have realized it when that
telephone call came from the bank in

Sacramento.

The what?

The bank to which Reba Burgess quietly
went to raise money for Bascom's payoff.

Now, I have a deposition stating that
they called to verify her credit. Called

your bank, Mr. Malone.

But I never talked to them. I never
talked to them.

No, of course you didn't.

But Mr. Kinder did.

Mr.

Kinder, who illegally opened the safety
deposit box, found that agreement and

brought Bascom back.

You never completely trusted him to
share his gains with you, now did you,

Kinder? I... I took the wax impression
when I returned Mrs. Burgess's key.

Just to be safe.

To be safe.

To be sure.

Well, I was sure all right.

Carl Bascom didn't empty that shoebox. I
did.

After he left the vault.

After he admitted that he was going to
sell out cheap and run.

I took those pouches and he was going to
get blamed.

But then, later, I opened the pouches
and then I found him at the

mine.

Even after I took the gun from the desk
and pointed it at him, even then he

didn't tell me where the real diamonds
were.

It isn't fair.

There wasn't anything in those pouches
but candy.

They're just pieces of candy.

Mal, what happens now with your bank and
me?

Nothing. Well, won't you be in trouble?

Mr. Mason, what do you think the best
procedure would be?

Should I surrender myself and admit to
everyone that I lied about?

I don't know. What do you think, Paul?

I say she surrenders.

Della?

Right away.

That makes it unanimous.

Reba Burgess, we hereby order you to
surrender yourself at once to Mal

What? Do you think for one moment that
I'd allow my bank to become involved

any kind of loans to you when you had no
collateral?

But I did get the loans. My diamonds
were the security.

Excuse me, but we have some packing to
do.

Explain it to her, won't you, Mr.
Malone?

Bye, Reba.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Mal, don't. Tease me.

Oh, for Pete's sake, Reba.

I know all about that rock candy in the
shoebox right from the start.

But the loans you kept arranging for
me... Well, I'm not exactly a poor man,

know. I merely arranged for the
collateral personally, that's all.

Now, don't look at me that way.

You wanted to keep a secret, and the
least thing I could do was... Reba, for

Pete's sake.

Now...