All language subtitles for perry_mason_s08e11_latent_lover

Not even one damsel in distress.

No, Perry, not even a book salesman.

It's been more like a morgue around here
than a law office all morning.

Paul, nobody hasn't come in yet.

Okay,

I'll tell him.

Bye.

Tell me what, fella?

I didn't hear you come in, Paul.

Perry wants you to know that he's
running a little late, but the

still on if you don't mind waiting.

Don't mind at all.

Nothing like a nice, quiet, comfortable
morgue for waiting.

I don't know what made me say that.

I hope it isn't a premonition of trouble
or something.

The holiday is beautiful.

Trouble's on vacation.

Yes, Gertie?

To speak to Paul, what about?

Send her in.

Thank you.

What's up?

Trouble, it sounds like.

Back from vacation.

Mr. Drake?

Yes, this is Miss Street.

How do you do?

I'm Miss Doubleday, Minerva Doubleday.

And I'd like your help because I'm in
trouble.

What kind of trouble, Miss Doubleday?

It's there.

The emissary is to be at the southeast
corner of Wilshire and Lebanon at 10 .55

tonight. Emissary? He or she is to stand
under the corner, street sign, for

exactly two minutes.

And then is to proceed to the public
library south entrance at the dead end

Hope Street, which will be closed.

The library, of course, not the street.

Of course.

At 11 .13, the public phone on the
street by the entrance steps will ring.

emissary is to answer using the code
name Jefferson Davis.

Jefferson Davis?

Yes.

And then further directions will be
supplied.

It's Doubleday.

By any chance, is this payment some sort
of ransom?

Oh, no.

Just the opposite.

The emissary is to receive payment.

Oh.

And just where do I come into this?

As the emissary, Mr. Drake. My uncle,
Mr. Homer Doubleday, assigned me, but a

woman alone at night could be a
temptation to trickery. But why doesn't

uncle go?

He is a cripple, Miss Street, confined
to a wheelchair.

I'm sorry.

Will $300 be sufficient for your
services?

You're offering me $300 to start out at
Wilshire and Lebanon, follow directions

until payment is made to me by someone.
That's right. Who is this someone?

We don't know.

The letter is unsigned.

What is the payment for?

For this.

What is it, Paul?

A 50 cent piece. A Confederate 50 cent
piece, Mr. Drake.

Confederate?

What's a thing like this worth?

$50 ,000.

Good afternoon.

Are you representing yourself or your
employer?

My employer, Mr. Doubleday, with his
final offer for your half dollar.

I suggest you tell Mr. Hopkins he's
wasting his time and yours and mine.

He says he has plenty of time and money
to waste. I'm well aware of that.

Then why not sell?

For years, Howard Hopkins has been
trying to get that coin away from me.

The jewelry, flattery, and excessively
high offers, and then threats.

Threats to blacken my name as a coin
collector.

Forced me out of business as a dealer.

Well, I told that pirate I would never
sell him the coin no matter what he did

or offered.

He's willing to forget your little
differences, Mr. Doubleday. But I'm not.

Anyway, you may also tell him
arrangements have already been completed

the half dollar to someone else.

You can't mean that.

But I do, Miss Norman. Now, goodbye.

To whom are you selling it?

I can't say.

And I suppose you can't or won't say how
much you're getting for it?

Well, whatever you're getting, Mr.
Hopkins will pay you 10 % more.

100 % more.

I still wouldn't sell to him.

Perhaps I should remind you, Mr.
Doubleday, that along with time and

Hopkins also has power.

Am I to take that as still another
threat, Miss Norman?

You take it any way you like.

But I advise you to reconsider before
this little world of nickels and dimes

comes crashing around your head.

Homer, I'm really surprised.

Surprise? Secrets from your very best
friends.

What was all that out there about
selling your precious half dollar to Mr.

Howard Hopkins? Just come on.

To whet his appetite.

Well, was it?

No, it was not.

I am selling the half dollar, and not to
Mr. Hopkins.

No matter how many other people tell me
otherwise.

It happens that I am not other people.

So you better listen carefully.

You are selling it to him. Never.

How many duplicates of rare coin have
you stamped out for me in the

last year or so?

Five. Mm -hmm.

A gold Fujio cent, an undated Jay Conway
$5 gold piece, a Baldwin & Company $10

gold horseman, an 1884 trade dollar with
chop marks.

And, uh, what was the other?

1776 Continental Silver Dollar.

All so perfect that only an expert with
access to a laboratory could tell them

from the originals.

It's a federal offense, Omar.

Counterfeiting money.

How many years do you think you'd spend
in prison if I were to tell the buyers

of the coins they were fakes?

You never told me you were selling them
as originals.

I would believe that.

No, Homer.

I'm afraid you're caught squarely
between the devil and the deep blue sea.

Two options.

Play ball with me and sell the coin to
Hopkins, or... Hell, I'll get him to

him you can't if you're mine.

Do it today.

Uncle Homer?

Do it now.

Do it, Parsons.

Why, you forget after all we've been
through together?

I told you to stay away from me.

But you didn't say anything about Uncle
Homer.

Yes, I did.

And you know it. All right.

I'll leave quietly.

Goodbye, Homer.

Forget.

Forget what?

Nothing concerning you and her.

gave the letter and the half dollar to a
private detective.

Yes, a man named Paul Drake.

I checked on him and he's experienced
and completely trustworthy.

And he's agreed to handle the entire
transaction?

Yes. Tonight he'll start at the corner
of Wilshire and Lebanon at 10 .55, just

as the letter said, and follow through
until the money's paid.

He'll bring it to us tomorrow.

It's far safer this way, Uncle Homer.

But if you want, I can go back and tell
him I've decided to do it myself.

Was there someone out there when you
came in?

We'll go see.

Somebody wanted some cigarettes, dear?
Oh, yes, please. Thanks for those

Well, looks like I've run out. I'll be
down in a minute. Well,

what do you think, Barry?

Unsigned letter?

An odd coin neither of us ever knew
existed?

Two -minute wait under a street sign?

Phone ringing in a certain downtown
phone booth?

Sounds like a spy melodrama.

I suggest you spend the afternoon
shopping for a trench coat.

Think I'm sticking my neck out?

I honestly don't know.

It's just bizarre enough to be
legitimate.

And after all, sticking your neck out is
your business, isn't it, Paul?

Hi. Hi.

I'm glad you didn't wait.

And I'm also glad you left them to come
and start them.

That's operative. Not not heaven can
report if you eat their land.

Only she seems to have forgotten her
trench coat.

Trench coat and operative.

You mean the detective work I've been
doing?

Went to the clean shop? Mm -hmm. And Mr.
Doubleday is on the up and up.

According to the man next door, he's
been in that place of business for over

years. I didn't go in because I was
afraid Minerva might be there, but...

did learn something at another coin
store.

What is it?

The American numismatic guides. Look on
page 166. I have it marked.

Well, what do you know?

Confederate half dollar.

Due to a shortage of silver bullion,
only four originals were struck in 1861

the New Orleans Mint.

making it one of the rarest of American
coins.

Coins were made on a hand press using
United States silver half -dollar

planchettes. Three cigarettes, sir. One
was presented to Jefferson Davis,

another to Professor Biddle of the
University of Louisiana.

A third was kept by Chief Coiner B .F.
Taylor, and the fourth was eventually

acquired by Dr.

H. Doubleday of New Orleans.

Homer Doubleday's grandfather.

Very well be, Della.

Well, this cloak and dagger stuff could
be on the level. Does it say how much

the coins are worth?

No, it merely says extremely rare.

But if it's one of the original four,
I'd say it also means extremely

How can I find out if it is or not?

I believe I know someone who can tell
you.

I sure would like to know.

After Della finishes, can we take the
coin around the... What's wrong?

It's gone.

Well, it couldn't be. It was just there
a minute ago.

It sure isn't now.

Oh, boy, am I in a suit.

$50 ,000 worth.

What kind of a gag are you trying to
pull, mister?

Huh? Gag?

Palming off a phony confederate coin on
me. Your idea of a joke or something?

What must did Miss Dolman have today,
Miss Hopkins?

None. I believe her sister has refused
not to deal with me.

Which is all to the good for us.

What do you imagine he'll do when he
finds out you've outtaught him?

Why? This coin collection, second to
none in the world, is the direct result

my out -thinking people.

And what have they done?

I hope you are not entertaining any
devious ideas.

Why, you can tell Mr. Hopkins who will
be better than that.

Mr. Mason is here.

Have him come in.

I hope you're not developing a case of
cold feet.

Oh, Mr.

Hopkins, I can handle it.

I hope so.

The half dollar is the last major
American coin outside my collection.

I must have it, Weiler.

If necessary, I would kill to get it.

Well, it's been a long time, Terry. I
hope you're not representing someone

a lawsuit.

No, this is a social call, Mr. Hopkins.

If coin collecting is a social activity.

Sit down, sit down.

So you've shaken up the hobby.

Well, in a way, I'd like some
information about rare coins.

You've come to the proper place.

Here.

One of the very rarest.

Liberty Nickel.

A 1913 Liberty Nickel.

One of the original five owned by
Colonel Green, some of the famous Hetty

I paid $22 ,000 for that in 1952.

That's a little rich for my blood.

Yeah?

Well, perhaps these are more on your
line.

What are those?

Wooden nickels.

Totems. Advertising pieces.

Worth a dime a dozen, most of them, but
some of them were worth more to a

collector.

This one, for instance.

Used by the miners at Sutter's Mill in
1849.

And this one?

Issued in Pittsburgh during Grant's
siege.

They would perhaps be known.

$1 ,000 apiece now.

What would an 1861 Confederate half
-dollar bring?

Why do you ask that?

Where did you get

this? From a client who'd like to know
if it's genuine.

And the client's name?

I'm not free to say.

$50 ,000, no question, sir.

Then it is, General.

$60 ,000 and another pen to you.

I'm sorry, but it's not mine to sell.

Mason, do you realize at the flick of my
finger I could ruin both you and your

client?

For your sake, I hope you don't flick
that finger, Mr. Hopkins.

You'll find neither my client nor I ruin
easily.

Thanks for the information.

Yes, Mr. Hopkins.

Have Clarence drive you and find out who
Mason's meeting.

He has my Confederate half dollar.

Della, I was ready to have to leave
before you two got back.

It's only 9 .30. We have over an hour to
get to Wilshire and Lebanon.

What did Mr. Doubleday say when you told
him about Howard Hopkins' offer?

He refused to discuss it. In fact, he
seemed quite proud that Hopkins had even

shown him half a dollar.

I don't understand.

Neither do I, Della.

But possibly after Paul delivers the
half dollar and receives the money.

Oh, no.

Perry.

Why in the world?

Half a buck that you were flipping.

You wouldn't want to donate it towards a
cup of coffee and a sandwich, would

you?

Here's a buck.

Get two sandwiches.

Thanks, fella.

Yes?

This is Jefferson Davis.

Now drive to the Wilshire Palace Hotel.

Make sure you're not followed.

Then, go inside.

Ask the desk clerk for an envelope
addressed to Jay Davis.

Inside, there'll be further directions.

All clear?

Now, get going.

So far, so good.

You look like an awfully big man under
that streetlight. Are you sure you can

handle him, George?

This can't be.

Yes,

madam. Oh, yes, madam. It'll be ready
for you.

Thank you.

You have an envelope for me, Jay Davis.

Here it is. Just a moment.

Here. Here, Mr. Davis. Thank you. Bye.

I'm curious, Dylan.

You don't want to shoot me, Minerva.

I'm working for you, remember?

Wouldn't it be better if you pointed
that thing somewhere else?

Please, look closer.

I meant what I said.

All right, Minerva, go closer.

But first, let's get rid of the
artillery.

George Parsons.

I loved you, Mr. Drake.

I loved you.

I loved you.

Easy, Minerva, easy.

Whatever happened, I'm here to help.

Strange, but there doesn't seem to be
anything missing, Lieutenant.

Hmm. Well, then maybe all Parsons or
whoever shot him wanted was this half

dollar Drake has been telling us about.
Yes, that could be.

Only it was in Drake's pocket instead of
in the safe.

Mr. Doubleday, are you positive you went
home at seven?

I told you I did.

And never left until Sergeant Bryce came
to pick you up a few minutes ago?

No. What time did your niece leave the
apartment?

I don't know. I went to bed after she
served dinner.

I didn't hear her go out.

And you still maintain you've never seen
this before?

Never.

All right, Mr. Doubleday.

Would you wait in the other room,
please?

What makes you so sure the girl didn't
kill Parson?

If she had, I would have heard the shot
in the alley.

Not if your engine was running.

Not if she'd spent some time searching
the body after she fired the shot.

Lieutenant Anderson.

Oh, that was a very bright idea of
yours.

Who said she was searching the body?

She did.

Said she was checking to see if Parsons
had gotten hold of the Confederate half

dollar. But she knew I had it. So she
was lying. Just as I think she was lying

about passing the shop, seeing the light
in the back, investigating and finding

Parsons dead.

Now, what was she really doing here?

I don't know.

Well, what did she tell you, say to you
when you found her?

Now look, Drake, this is murder.

And your story's already wild enough as
it is without complicating it by trying

to cover for the girl. And just possibly
getting yourself thrown into jail.

All right.

Maybe this will help you make up your
mind.

The telephone call I just got, it was
about the pistol.

No current permit.

But according to the firearms registry
records, that gun was originally sold in

1952. to a Mr. Homer Doubleday of this
address.

They seem like such babes in the woods,
Minerva and their uncle.

I suppose one of them must have done it,
though, being pistol was theirs.

Pistols have been borrowed before,
Della.

You think they're innocent, then?

I'd like to think so, though I must
admit Minerva's story of investigating a

light in the shop is a bit hard to
swallow.

As is. Mr.

Doubleday's claiming he's never seen a
pistol before.

Has Paul found out anything more about
George Parsons? Only that he seems to

have been a rare coin dealer with his
office in his hat.

What about him and Minerva?

Paul's men is working on that.

You know, perhaps I shouldn't have let
Paul tell Lieutenant Anderson what she

said standing over the body.

But he has to protect his private
investigator's license.

If she did have a relationship with
Parsons, it's bound to come out

Yes, Gertie.

Just a minute.

Olivia Norman, who says Howard Hopkins
Center here.

Have her come in.

Have her come in, Gertie.

Please.

Ms. Norman?

My secretary, Ms. Street. Won't you sit
down?

Thank you.

Mr.

Hopkins has been told that you are
representing the Doubleday family.

Yes, I am.

He would like you to convey his sympathy
over last night's unfortunate events.

And he would also like you to pound the
nonsense, as he put it, out of Mr.

Doubleday's head.

Nonsense? Letting a conflict of
personalities stand in the way of

,000 for his half dollar.

I'd hardly call threats to blacken Mr.
Doubleday's reputation than put him out

of business conflict of personalities,
Ms. Norman.

And the offer yesterday was $60 ,000.

I was supposed to offer $50 ,000 first.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to
interrupt. I'll come back later.

Oh, you may stay, Paul.

Norman is just making an offer on behalf
of Howard Hopkins for the half dollar.

$60 ,000 then, Mr. Mason.

As some Mr. Hopkins feels will more than
cover your fee for defending Minerva

Doubleday. There have been no charges
against her?

I'm afraid that's merely a matter of
time.

You see, the man who was murdered,
George Parsons, telephoned Mr. Hopkins

late yesterday afternoon and offered to
sell him the half dollar.

How does that concern Minerva Doubleday?

Mr. Parsons told Mr. Hopkins that he was
getting the half dollar from her later

that evening in her uncle's shop.

Mr. Hopkins feels that he must inform
the police.

But he also feels a resulting obligation
to make sure that money is available

for Minerva's defense.

As well as to make sure he acquires the
half dollar.

That could be.

I'll relay the offer, Miss Norman.

Thank you.

Well, that sure puts a hole in Minerva's
story about just happening to pass the

shot. It would seem so, Paul.

What about the Wilshire Palace?

Well, I talked to the desk clerk. His
name's Eric Summers. He remembers me,

Davis, and he also remembers the person
who gave him the envelope.

George Parsons? Do.

A mousy young lady with horn -rimmed
glasses and no makeup.

Minerva Doubleday. As buried as Ella, it
would seem so.

from your description, I'm sure it was
the George Parsons that you... Heavens,

look at this!

Somebody got here first.

I didn't give a key to nobody, and
that's a gospel truth.

Let them come and go by the service
door.

It's unlocked.

Well, whoever it was, Lieutenant, he
left something kind of interesting.

A handful of pretty hot love letters
addressed to George and Clive Minerva.

Yes, your conclusion about the item in
the coin manual was correct, Mr. Mason.

The fourth Confederate half -dollar was
acquired by my grandfather in New

Orleans. It has been with the family
ever since.

Do you have it here now? No, no, the
police don't have it.

Well, it should be safe with them.

And, Mr. Dumbleday, tell me, why did you
decide to...

Sell to the anonymous writer of the
letter rather than on the open market.

Ownership of such a celebrated coin
gives me a certain cachet as a dealer.

The letter being anonymous suggested
that the sale might not be publicized.

But what convinced you it wasn't a pot
to steal a half dollar?

These convinced me, Mr. Mason.

They came with the letter.

And I knew at once a real collector was
involved, even though I had no idea who

it was.

These are just wooden nickels. Not
quite.

Three extremely rare nickels, each worth
in the neighborhood of a thousand

offers. That's very interesting.

Of course, what also helped convince me
was that I needed the money desperately

and at once.

Do you mind telling me why?

George Parsons.

Blackmail? Yes, as a direct result of my
own cupidity.

You see, from...

Many years I've been making replicas of
rare coins to sell to colleges, museums,

and other dealers for display purposes.

Could these pass as originals? Oh, yes.

You mean experts.

If it weren't for a private way, I'd
identify them.

And what is that?

Oh, I alter their center of gravity by
weighting them a bit more on one side

than the other, so they won't stand on
their edges.

As will mint coins.

Then, enter the devil.

Parsons persuaded you not to alter the
center of gravity.

No, no.

Not that. He began by winning our
confidence.

Or more especially, nervous.

So, when he told me he knew of a wealthy
eastern collector willing to pay far

more than I had been getting for
replicas of...

certain extremely rare coins he
possessed.

I allowed myself to believe him.

What was this Eastern collector supposed
to be doing with the replicas?

Displaying them as originals, while the
genuine originals were safe and

involved. How many coins did you copy?

Five, over a period of a little more
than a year.

Among them, a 1776 continental silver
dollar and a gold Fugio set.

Why did you single out those particular
coins?

Because when I read the South Salem
Historical Society had purchased a gold

Fujio cent for $11 ,000 and the Sibley
Museum in Boston a 1776

continental silver dollar for $22 ,000,
I realized what Parsons was doing.

Selling your replicas as originals. When
I accused him, he admitted it.

And then he told me.

I was in it as deep as he was.

That's when I realized I had to sell the
Confederate half dollar.

I don't quite understand.

Approximately $73 ,000 was paid for the
five coins with my savings.

And the money from the sale of the half
dollar, I thought I could go to the

purchasers, refund them their money.

Seems a high price to pay for an honest
mistake.

But it wasn't an honest mistake, Mr.
Mason.

In my heart, I knew something was wrong.

Look at me, Perry, but one of Paul's men
called just as I was leaving the office

to come here.

Minerva's been arrested, taken to
headquarters, and charged with first

murder.

Would you drive me to police
headquarters, Mr. Mason?

Your going there won't help Minerva, Mr.
Dudley.

I think it will.

You see, I killed George Parsons.

made the envelope at the hotel for Mr.
Drake, no matter what that desk clerk

says.

And I didn't have an appointment with
George Parsons at the shop that night,

matter what Mr. Hopkins says.

And you didn't kill Parsons.

I did have a violent quarrel with him
when I found out what he was doing to

Uncle Homer.

I told him I never wanted to see him
again.

But I didn't kill him. You have to
believe me.

I do, Minerva.

You must explain something.

Why were you searching the body?

I was looking for the half dollar.

Paul Drake had the coin. You knew that.

No, Mr. Mason.

It was a replica of the half dollar I
gave him in your office.

A replica?

Uncle Homer and I thought, in view of
the strangeness of the letter, not to

the original.

Why didn't you tell Mr. Drake?

We planned to tell him when he brought
us the money.

After the sale?

Well... Of course, we also planned to
give him the real half dollar so he

take it back to the buyer and exchange
it for the replica.

We thought you two were babes in the
woods.

The original was left in the safe?

So when I found George dead in the safe
open and the original gone, I had to

make sure he didn't have it.

Why didn't you report the loss to the
police?

Uncle Homer thought it was too quiet to
teach my parents a lesson.

Arrange it so the coin could be sold
legitimately.

That way he could salvage something.

What will he do to him for saying he
killed George?

Nothing.

The police are accustomed to false
confessions.

If it were false.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mason. It's time now.

And the state will show through letters
written by the defendant.

Minerva Doubleday to the deceased George
Parsons.

And through testimony concerning a
statement that she made while she was

standing over his dead body, that she
was totally blindly infatuated with him.

We will show that Minerva Doubleday
helped George Parsons plan a midnight

rendezvous for the clandestine delivery
of a rare coin worth in excess of $50

,000.

And we will show that when she
discovered that her messenger was not to

recompensed for this coin, her own...
uncle's coin, but was instead to be

knocked on the head and robbed of that
coin, she realized that she had been

as a dupe by George Parsons.

And in her humiliation and fury, she
shot and killed her erstwhile lover.

Now, Lieutenant, let me show you this
expended bullet which the coroner's

physician testified he took from the
deceased's body.

Were you able to determine what weapon
fired that bullet?

Yes, sir. I determined through
ballistics tests that it had been fired

pistol I've already identified as having
been given to me that night by Paul

Drake. The one he told you he took from
the defendant, Minerva Doubleday? Yes,

sir. The one that was purchased in 1952
by Homer Doubleday? Yes, sir. Thank you.

Mr. Mason?

No question.

And did you then follow the directions
in the envelope you picked up at that

hotel? Yes.

I drove into the alley behind the coin
shop and went in the back door.

And what or whom did you find?

The deceased and Miss Doubleday.

To whom you should be very grateful,
incidentally, Mr. Drake.

Because from the blackjack found on the
body of the deceased, apparently he had

unpleasant plans for you. Your Honor,
the prosecutor is making gratuitous

You're quite right, Mr. Mason.

Strike that last from the record.

Hereafter, Mr. Berger, confine yourself
to a proper type of examination.

Mr. Drake, when you went into that shop,
exactly what was the defendant doing?

Bending over the body.

Was she by any chance holding something?

A pistol.

And would you tell us, please, what you
did at that point?

I took the pistol from her. Then I asked
her who the deceased was.

She said, George Parsons.

Did she say anything else at that
moment?

Oh, come on, Mr. Drake. You know you
have to answer that.

She said, I loved him, loved him, loved
him.

Mr. Mason?

To retrace your movements before you
arrived at the coin shop, what time was

when you reached the phone booth near
the public library?

Eight minutes past eleven. I checked my
watch as I drove up.

Now, what were your exact instructions
as outlined in the letter sent to Homer

Doubleday and later given to you by Miss
Doubleday?

Proceed to the public library south
entrance of the dead end of Hope Street,

which will be closed.

At 11 .13, the public phone on the
street by the entrance steps will ring.

Answer using the name Jefferson Davis
and further instructions will be

11 .13.

You testified, I believe, that the phone
was already ringing when you arrived

there at 11 .08.

That's right. And it could have been
ringing as far as you know for a

considerable period of time before that?

Yes, it could.

He's a mouthy type, I'd say.

Plain dress, practically no makeup.

Horn -rimmed glasses.

Nothing anybody's whistled at, but I
remember her. And why do you suppose you

remember her?

Well, along with that envelope marked
Jay Davis. She gave me a $10 bill to

sure it didn't get mislaid. I see.

Would you look around this courtroom,
Mr. Summers, and tell us if you can

identify the woman who gave you the
envelope and the $10 bill?

That's her over there.

Miss Doubleday, the defendant.

Mr. Hopkins, are you sure there's no
possibility of your being mistaken that

George Parsons told you over the
telephone that night that he was meeting

Minerva Doubleday later that night in
her uncle's shop?

I'm afraid not.

Because he went on to say she was going
to give him the Confederate half dollar

then so he could sell it to me.

Did you accept this arrangement?

With reservations, yes.

Oh, I thought about this method of
selling the half dollar.

But I knew if he arrived that I could
telephone Homer Doubleday.

Find out if he'd authorize Parsons to
sell it. And what if he hadn't?

Actually, I'd call the police.

Naturally.

Mr. Hopkins, is this the valuable half
dollar in question?

Yes, it is.

Your Honor, this is the half dollar
identified by Paul Drake as the one

him by the defendant.

At this point, I should like it entered
in evidence.

Well, Mr. Berger, mark it People's
Exhibit 5.

Mr. Hopkins, how much would you be
willing to pay for that half dollar?

I'd already offered $60 ,000.

That's well worth committing murder for,
isn't it, Mr. Mason?

Oh, excuse me. I withdraw the gratuitous
aside.

Mr. Hopkins, I'd like to show you
something.

Do you recognize them?

Wooden nickels. Your wooden nickels, Mr.
Hopkins.

Because it was you who wrote the
anonymous letter to Homer Doubleday,

You who devised the scheme to acquire
the half dollar without letting him know

you were the buyer.

But something went wrong, didn't it?

George Parsons moved in on your plan.

Hijacked it, so to speak.

By placing his call first at the
library.

So then you had to kill him.

No, I didn't kill him.

I never left the house that night.

I didn't even know the scheme hadn't
worked until... Until...

Tell him, Wyler.

Go on, tell him.

Oh, Mr. Hopkins wrote the letter to Mr.

Doubleday and then afterwards got you to
pose as the anonymous buyer.

Yes, because he knew that Doubleday
wouldn't sell to him.

I see.

All right, would you tell us what you
did that night, Mr. Wyler? Well, I

him across the street until Mr.

Drake left Wilshire and Lebanon for the
public library.

And then I went to a nearby telephone
booth.

And what were you supposed to tell Mr.
Drake?

I was supposed to tell him to come to my
apartment because that's where the

money was.

I began dialing a little before 11 .13.

Twice I got a busy signal. The third
time, the phone rang, but no one

So I went to the library myself.

I waited around there for about half an
hour. Then I went to my apartment and

got the money and took it back to Mr.
Hopkins.

It appears there was a hijacking, as you
put it, Mr. Mason.

Would you care to ask any questions?

One or two.

Mr. Weiler.

What time did you reach Mr. Hopkins'
house that night?

Around 12 .30.

Did you by chance stop at Homer
Doubleday's coin shop on the way?

No. Though I can't prove it.

With the court's permission, I'd like
you to step over here to the exhibit

table.

Very well.

You testified that you're an expert on
rare coins.

Would you have been able to
distinguish...

This coin from a carefully made replica
had Mr. Drake delivered it.

If you're thinking of a Homer Doubleday
replica, quite easily.

See, he always makes his coins off
balance so they won't stand on edge.

And this coin will?

Oh, of course.

You see?

But that's impossible.

That's the replica given to Mr. Drake.

And it can't stand on edge. It can't.

Happy to know that your Rome's Gallery
long shot paid off.

You identified the panhandler you saw at
Wilshire and Lebanon?

His name's Gerald Kelso. He served
several stretches in prison.

How'd you know that?

It's part of the long shot.

You signed a man to Kelso? Mm -hmm.
Good.

The Baldwin and Company, $10 gold
horseman.

And we purchased that for $13 ,000 last
April.

From a man named George Parsons, I
believe. Yes. After he'd furnished us

affidavit from an apparently reputable
widow in Sacramento stating it had been

in her family for three generations.

You have some doubts as to its
authenticity?

I'm sorry to say so, yes.

I have reason to believe it's a replica
of the original made by Homer Doubleday.

We've had numerous dealings with Mr.
Doubleday. Perhaps you don't know it,

his replicas are always made with the
center of gravity off just enough to

prevent their standing on edge.

And this coin will stand on edge?

But Doubleday said... I know, Paul.

But he was wrong. Which is going to
surprise a number of people.

including the murderer.

I don't know what all this is about.

Here are the five coins you listed.

So what about them?

Mr. Weiler, let's try the continental
silver dollar.

It won't stand on its head.

I think you'll find that none of the
five will stand on edge.

What is this?

What happened to my originals?

One by one, Mr. Hopkins, they've been
replaced by replicas and sold to various

collectors and museums.

You!

You're the only one who has access to my
collection.

You'll go to prison for this.

She's the one that killed Parsons?

Did you, Miss Norman?

Perhaps for the money you were keeping
in your apartment?

The 70 -odd thousand dollars you and he
received for the five coin?

All right.

I did exchange the coins after George
had Mr. Doubleday make copies of them.

I didn't kill him.

We were to be married.

And as a dutiful wife -to -be, you told
Parsons about Mr. Hopkin's anonymous

letter? Yes.

Wearing horn -rimmed glasses and no
makeup to resemble Minerva Doubleday.

You left the envelope at the Wilshire
Palace as your contribution to the

hijacking scheme.

And you must have been the other person
at the coin shop, Miss Norman.

Because you were the only one who knew
in advance Parsons would be there.

But why doesn't somebody ask him where
he was? He lied in court saying that he

was at home.

I saw him come in a little bit after
midnight. And then the lights went on.

She's lying.

Is she, Mr. Hopkins?

Or did George Parsons surprise you in
the act of robbing Homer Doubleday's

How could I possibly open a safe? The
combination of which I had no way of

knowing.

Paul.

Yeah, that's him.

The guy I told you about. He hired me.

But I ain't taking no murder rep for
you, pal.

Especially for no crummy 500 bucks.

Who is this man?

I believe you know only too well, Mr.
Wilder.

Why did he pay you 500 dollars, Kelso?

Well, mainly it was for a little finger
job at the coin shop.

He wanted me to find out from the
combination of the safe.

And one other thing was to search my
office.

And another was to go to Wilshire in
Lebanon.

I had nothing to do with that store. I
saw him there, yes.

Kelso?

Mr. Hopkins asked me to go there to see
if the half -dollar scheme was starting

out okay.

And when you saw that it was?

I phoned him like he told me to.

And it was that call which started you
on your way to the coin shop, armed with

the combination Weiler had given to you.

They're lying, both of them. Save their
skins.

Besides, why would I go to the coin shop
when I knew that the emissary, whoever

it was, had the original half dollar?

But you didn't.

You knew the original was in the safe.

And you knew that Homer Doubleday would
never risk his most prized possession on

the anonymous cloak and dagger proposal
you sent him.

But Drake had the original half dollar.
That was proven in court.

Yes.

After you'd substituted it for the
replica which you were presumably

on the stand.

Daring bit of sleight of hand, Mr.
Hopkins.

But that's what gave you away.

I would have paid him $100 ,000 in
return for letting me keep the half

When I found out what he and Vivian had
done with these coins, when he laughed

and said there was no way I could get
them back without going to jail for

robbing Homer Doubleday, I... I took the
pistol

into the face.

I stopped.

Hopkins left town, Mr. Norman would take
one of his rare coins and give it to

Parsons, who would then have your uncle
make a replica.

And then they'd put the replica back and
sell the original?

That's what they hoped to do with the
Confederate half -dollar, after they'd

somehow forced your uncle to sell it to
Mr. Hopkins.

Pretty ingenious setup. But what about
this sleight -of -hand business in

Hopkins knew he would be safer if he
destroyed the evidence of his theft.

But he couldn't bear to part with the
Confederate half -dollar.

He'd been after it for so many years.

So he substituted it for the replica
which he later destroyed.

It's a good thing you saw him switching
the coins on the witness stand.

Oh, but I didn't, Bella.

You see, aside from Paul, the police,
and Hamilton Berger, Hopkins was the

person who touched that coin before
Wyler proved it to be genuine.

So the guilty man either had to be
Hopkins or Berger. I don't know how to

express my gratitude for all you've
done.

So I'll just say thank you.

You're welcome, Minerva.

Harry, did Kelko ever explain why he
searched George Parsons' apartment?

Yes.

When he read of Parsons' death, he knew
Hopkins was involved in some way, which

meant the possibility of big money.

Well, the only apartment he could have
searched was Vivian Norton's. I fear no

way of knowing that.

Paul, what in the world are you doing?

Producting my daily search.

Daily search?

To make sure that nobody's given me an
ear.