All language subtitles for Barnaby Jones s01e07 Murder in the Dolls House

Barnaby Jones, starring Buddy Epson,
also starring Lee

Meriwether, with guest stars Jack
Cassidy,

Estelle Wynwood, Kathy Lee Crosby,

special guest star Anne Francis.

Tonight's episode, Murder in the Doll
Pound.

You're always scribbling, Harry.

It's a compulsion.

I thought I might flush out some birds.
I used to come up here by the old water

tank. It's a favorite spot of mine.

Shall we up the hill?

I thought you were going to shoot me,
Craig.

Oh, you writers in your imagination.

Over the phone, you said you wanted to
talk.

I just wanted to tell you how much I
admire your work.

All of your books, Harry.

Thanks, Craig.

You really do write well, Harry.

But you got too close.

The main reason that I came here to Los
Angeles was for this book publishing

convention, Mr. Jones.

Harry Doyle was supposed to meet me
here.

When he didn't, I called him up at the
inn in Los Reyes.

When was this, Mr. Randall?

Three days ago.

Now, the desk clerks keep telling me
that he hasn't checked out.

But nobody's seen him for the last ten
days.

And I gotta get back to New York.

What would he be doing in Los Reyes?

Soaking up atmosphere for his new book.

Los Reyes was his old hometown.

He kept sending us pages as he finished
each chapter.

I never did get to Palm Springs.

Oh, please.

Don't unpack.

Sorry.

Did you check the police?

Sure.

But, uh, really, I'd rather not have
them in if we can help it.

Embarrassing.

Listen.

There was a time when Harry Doyle hit
the booze pretty hard.

Now, I'm worried about him.

But I've got to be honest, I'm worried
about the book.

I want that ending, the last pages.

We're setting up to run galley proofs.

What's his room number at the end?

24.

Look, there is one person there who's a
good friend of Harry Doyle's, knows

everybody. A girl by the name of Nancy
something or other. She runs the Paper

Mill Bookstore. Now, you can level with
her.

When you say one person, Mr. Randall,
you mean Harry isn't well -liked?

His last book was about Los Reyes, too.

He made a bundle.

Book clubs, a movie, and a flock of
enemies.

Frankly, there were problems.

When people run out of problems, Mr.
Randall, I'll be out of business.

After graduating from Stanford, Mr.
Doyle worked on the Oakland Times.

Such Sweet Thunder is about growing up
in Los Reyes.

Let's see, it was bought by Hollywood,
and Harry Doyle moved down here to write

the screenplay, Sherman Oaks.

Does he still live there? No, now he
drifts. He's divorced.

Oh, about his first book, Such Sweet
Thunder to Los Reyes, they recalled it

such sour grape.

It'd be interesting to hear what they
have to say about the sequel he's

Betty...

Keep calling in case Harry Doyle comes
back to L .A. His agent, writer's guild,

trade papers. All right, I'll do that.

Now, listen, you be careful, all right?
I mean, I hear there are a lot of fancy

women up in Los Reyes. They better be
careful.

They don't realize I'm always gunning
for a rich divorcee.

Barnaby Jones, I called in about a
reservation.

Oh, yes, Mr. Jones.

Welcome to the inn.

Would you just fill out this
registration card, please?

Harry Doyle return yet?

No, sir, not yet.

Mr. Jones, this is Mr. Bantry, manager
of the inn.

Mr. Jones, how do you do, Mr. Bantry?

Mr. Jones is looking for Mr. Doyle.

Oh, is that so, Mr. Jones? I represent
his publisher.

Do you happen to know where he is?

I have no idea. Now, Mr. Doyle takes off
two or three days at a time, gathering

material for his books, or whatever
writers do.

Did he mention when he returned?

He never does.

Well, that's a good writer. He keeps
everyone in suspense.

Oh, I see what you mean.

Yes, Roy.

You said call in case anyone came around
asking about Doyle.

Well, somebody just did. Name is Jones.

Well, that tells me a lot, Roy.

It says he represents Doyle's publisher.

I figured the publishers would send a
man down.

We got a big investment.

I don't like it, Craig.

It was bound to happen, Roy. I told you
that. Will you stop whining?

What do you want me to do?

Just keep your eye on him discreetly.

And Roy, don't worry.

Retuity.

Thank you.

Harry's new novel is really fabulous.

And I'm not just saying that. I'm
objective.

I've got to be to own a bookstore.

Harry Doyle's The Sun Children really
lets the air into this town.

You mean you've read it before it's even
finished?

All that he's written.

To about page 300, I think.

Harry asks me to read his stuff.

I guess I laugh in all the right places.

Are you his editor then, Mr. Jones?

No.

I'm a private investigator hired by his
publisher.

Why? Find Harry and find out where the
rest of the book.

A man your age, Mr. Jones?

You're a new kind of private eye.

That's a nice way of saying I'm an old
kind of private eye.

Ms. Erdmore, to me, old age has always
seemed to be 15 years older than I am.

Hi, Nancy.

Miriam wanted me to pick up that new
Alan Watts book.

Oh, I'm sorry I'm sold out, but I'll
call her as soon as they come in.

Say, maybe Craig can help you. He and
Harry are old friends.

Craig, this is Barnaby Jones from Los
Angeles. Craig Woodridge.

How do you do, Mr. Woodridge? Jones?

Mr. Jones is a private investigator.

He's looking for good old Harry Doyle.

I'm not kidding.

We all know how Harry likes to take off.

You and Harry are old friends?

Went to high school together.

Harry goes off on these trips of his
alone, I take it.

Oh, yeah.

Harry marches to quite a different
drummer.

Suddenly he'll be driving up to Morro
Bay to get a look at those sea otters or

backpacking in the Sierras.

Shoot, I've got to be going. I work.

Say, we're having a little get -together
early this evening.

Lots of locals.

Nancy, you'll be there, and Anita's.

Why can't you join us, Mr. Jones?

Maybe Harry will show up, or maybe
somebody there might have seen him.

Informal. That's very kind of you, Mr.
Woodridge. I'll be looking forward to

Good.

See you, Nancy.

Bye.

A little get -together.

Command performance is more like it.

You see, it's a ritual in Los Reyes that
the last Thursday of every month is set

aside for Anita Woodridge's party. She's
Craig's great aunt.

She receives in the twilight hours, and
if you're Los Reyes Society, you show up

or drop dead.

Very hospitable man, Mr. Woodridge.

What does he do?

Stocks and bonds.

And he has this crazy routine about how
hard he works.

Don't you believe?

How come, if I may ask?

Connections. His father -in -law got the
partnership for him.

Oh, that's Miriam's father.

Hey, you pay attention, don't you?

Miriam it is.

Miriam Drake.

And Miriam is not only a beauty, but she
comes from just the right people.

And there is nothing but money, money,
money.

Craig's marrying the local heir. It's
one of those stories everybody sort of

knows and talks about.

You see, Craig's aunt had a fortune, but
she had to get away.

Now, Craig had always expected to live
in the last luxury.

But by the time he was out of school,
the Woodridge money had run out.

Thank you.

And so had the Woodridge family line.

Then Craig landed Miriam and saved the
whole world.

What's the matter?

Outside of talking too much?

Listen, I'm really worried about Harry.

I wasn't before, but now you're here and
you're looking for him.

It's serious, isn't it?

Oh, as Mr. Woodridge said, Harry's
probably just out looking at otters.

Miss Erdmore, unless you have other
plans, I'd like to take you to the party

tonight.

I don't have a date, and if I did, I'd
think about breaking it.

That's very flattering.

Where and what time?

Any time after five and right here.

Fine.

Listen, let me put you on hold.

My secretary tells me there's a call
from California.

Yes, hello.

Oh, hello, Mr. Jones.

I'm in Los Reyes. Looks like your hunch
might just turn out to be correct.

As far as the people here know, Harry's
just off on another one of the Jones.

But he must know we're waiting for those
last pages.

How many has he turned in so far?

Uh, just a minute.

Uh, 301 pages up to the end of chapter
12. Why?

Yes, uh, checks with his carbon copy,
301.

But that can't be the end of the book.

Yeah, I know. That's what's so funny. I
found another page back of his

wastebasket, uh, from, uh, first draft.
He just started on it. It's numbered

334.

334?

Did you find any other pages up to
there?

No, that's what I wanted to check.

33 pages are around there somewhere in
the last chapter.

Find them.

Send them to me airmail, special
registered.

And call me.

Yes, sir.

I mean, find Harry, too, of course.

Give him hell and tell him to call me.
You got it?

Now, excuse me.

I'm talking to Washington.

A private investigator, Craig.

That's not good.

Sneaking into Harry's room?

You stop worrying Roy.

He'll nose around for a week, earn his
fee and live it up on his expenses.

He'll go away.

What can he find out anyway?

I'm playing the nice, friendly, rather
dense, rich guy for him.

Showing him around the club.

You think that's smart?

Certainly it's smart.

From a few curves.

I hope you know what you're doing.

Yeah.

Look at it this way, Roy.

This doesn't work.

We're just going to have to go one step
further.

Oh, that turns me on.

Oh, I don't mean the scent you use.

It's the aroma of Miriam that's
underneath.

You're not pretty the last couple of
days. You've been so playful.

I'm always playful.

Come on, Buster, you can't pull that
off.

I'm not trying to pull anything off.

But people don't know about people.

We've known each other all our lives.
We've been married for six years.

Still seems as if we've been walking on
opposite sides of the street.

It's ridiculous, Miriam.

No, it isn't.

But it doesn't matter.

Most people spend all their lives
walking on the other side of the street.

I'm sorry, Craig.

Oh, don't ever be sorry.

I am.

I've been thinking a lot about Tom
Jordan lately.

You're telling me?

After all these years.

I don't know.

He just seems to be in my head, smiling
that nutty smile of his.

Miriam, please don't dwell on the past.

I'm not dwelling on it.

I like it.

Maybe it's Harry Doyle.

Coming back, stirring everything up.

Talking about the good old days.

Harry reminds me of Tom.

That's crazy. They're nothing alike.

Tom was a lot bigger. He was 15 pounds
heavier.

Let me see.

Thigh shape and haircuts.

Women see other things.

You suppose Harry will be there tonight?

How should I know?

Probably out somewhere on a binge.

No, Harry doesn't drink like that
anymore.

Well, maybe not.

But you sure are lately.

Do you mind?

Well,

Mr. Jones, here we are at the most great
tribal dance.

It's an ancient rite.

That's a pretty good cross -section of
the tribe here already.

Mike, for instance.

Now, Mike is our top polo player.

Mucho maquismo.

For a long time, no girl over 25 could
bring Mike to those ecstatic heights he

enjoys so much.

Then they had to be 20.

And now Mike needs his young girls in
bunches.

And over there, Mr. Jones, it's Louise.

The lady known as Lou has an insatiable
appetite for lifeguards, speech boys,

delivery boys.

You think that Nancy and I are just a
couple of witchy goths that everyone

knows.

Especially after what Harry did in his
first book.

Indirectly, of course.

Seems to me nobody around here would
mind too much if his new book was never

printed.

Here she comes.

Craig's great aunt Anita.

What's the doll?

Aunt Anita has hundreds of dolls.

She talks to them. She feeds them. She
buys them clothes.

I guess she likes them because they
don't give her any arguments.

Anita's a bit odd, but she's still the
matriarch of Lothraeus.

How is she, Craig?

She asked me about going out on a picnic
which took place about 25 years ago, so

I'd say Anthony is pretty much the same.

Harry was always fascinated by her.

Is she in either of the books?

Oh, every one of the Old God is in
Harry's book.

More or less.

Hey, about those missing pages. I was
just thinking. Harry works once in a

at my place.

Your friend and mine, Roy Bantry,
complains that Harry's typing at night

the guests.

Maybe those pages are in his stuff out
there.

He's not exactly famous for neatness.

Well, could we go take a look now?

Want to?

Why, leave the party? It's just
beginning to roll.

Downhill.

Jones, what about when we golfed about?

Well, if not golf, what about shooting
some skeet?

Well, that's more my speed.

Thanks. Great. About 11.

Skeet Club, anybody at the end can tell
you where it is.

You people at Los Reyes are most
hospitable. Thank you.

Good night.

Good night, Mrs. Woodridge.

Good night, Mr. Jones.

Good night.

Good night.

12 % wine doesn't seem to be what the
doctor ordered.

One double scotch coming straight from
the bar.

No criticism?

You're a big girl, Mary.

There can't be other pages. I keep tabs
on that carbon in Doyle's room.

You lean too hard on him about the
noise.

He's been working over at Nancy's, she
said.

He was keeping my guests awake.

Well, now Mr. Jones and Nancy are on
their way over to the paper mill. You

follow them.

It'll get dark in another half hour.

And try and find out if they come up
with something.

The bar guaranteed us to have a bell.

I don't think anybody can guarantee you
a bell's any longer.

I thought maybe the champagne would do
it.

It isn't really a bell.

I don't know what it is.

But it does ring.

And everything's quiet.

You know, I think your aunt Anita maybe
has the right idea.

She always seemed so happy somehow.

You call that happy?

You know, when things went sour.

When Tom Jordan drowned.

Thanks a lot.

That's when we got married.

Mostly research stuff, looks like.

More research stuff.

Who was first to reach the deep waters
were Tom Jordan.

These are all about Tom Jordan's water
skiing accident.

Mm -hmm.

He and Miriam were engaged, you know.
Then about six months after he drowned,

Miriam married Craig.

Well, that looks like about everything,
Barnaby.

Yeah.

See,

do you mind if I hold on to these for a
day or so?

Sure. And I'm sorry I wasn't any more
help.

Say, you're my date.

Can I take you home?

No, thanks.

I've got a few things to do around here.

But it was a nice date.

Yeah.

Me too.

But they took money, too.

Just to cover.

You think Craig had someone follow us?

He knew we were coming here. And why?

But who slept here?

I don't know.

Those missing pages of that book must be
pretty hot.

I've got to find them.

These clippings don't mean a thing.
Everybody knows the newspaper version.

The missing pages might not say
anything, either.

They might.

Remember Harry talked to my dear old
aunt.

Your aunt Anita is all fuzzy.

She'll never remember.

Oh, don't you kid yourself.

That old dame still has her moments of
clarity.

So what do we do?

Watch Jones.

He's in Harry's footsteps.

Ah, Mr. Bantry.

I've been looking for you.

Oh, what can I do for you, Mr. Jones?

Oh, to tell you how much I'm enjoying
your service.

It's very personal.

Well, thank you, sir. Thank you very
much.

Anything I can do to make your stay more
pleasant?

Well, yes, there is.

Since you were the first on the scene
when Tom Jordan was drowned.

Oh, right.

That was so long ago.

Why are you interested?

What? Part of the town history,
practically, and I wanted to talk to an

eyewitness.

Well, let's see.

I was fishing the lake in a rowboat.

Good bass lake, that Lake Emerald.

Craig Woodridge and Tom Jordan were
water skiing. Tom was skiing, Craig was

driving the boat.

Jordan lost control around a turn, hit a
buoy, knocked him unconscious, sank

like a stone. Oh, it was a terrible
tragedy.

And Jordan went under before Craig could
get to him. That's correct.

Before Craig Woodridge could get back.
Of course, they were going pretty fast.

Craig had to make a big turn to come
back.

And you were the only witness?

Correct.

Nobody else out there fishing that time
of the morning.

Newspapers at the time said that you
were working as a clerk in a liquor

Oh, I've had lots of jobs.

Food, beverages.

Now you're an innkeeper.

Right. With a place of your own.

It is your own, isn't it?

Fee, title, according to your record,
paid in full.

It's quite a success story.

Well, pay to work hard and save your
money.

Frank, though, is late.

I don't quite know how to say this.

Um... Last night...

Nancy and I did a little talking out of
school.

Thank you.

Yes, I know how it is.

Sometimes there's a lot to be said in a
lady's favor, but together it's a lot

more interesting.

I wanted you to fill me in anyway.

Not that I like to poke around in the
past.

I just got back from there.

What can you tell me about the water
skiing accident?

Harry asked me all about that, too.

Listen, where is that guy? Does anybody
know?

Not a clue.

I didn't see it.

I was taking a tennis lesson when it
happened.

And when Roy Bantry called from the dock
for more help, we all rushed down.

But it was too late.

Craig was wonderful. He...

Dived and dived trying to reach Tom.

They nearly passed out.

When they finally did grapple Tom's
body, it was too late.

I'm sorry to bring this up.

It's just such a shock, you know.

You know Tom and I were engaged.

We were going to be married in a month.

It was a shock for the whole town.

I had Anita more than anybody.

Really? And that's the way she was
closer to Tom and me than our own

even.

She really took Tom's death badly.

That's when she started staying in.

Working on her doll collection.

She didn't even leave the house when
Craig and I were married.

I may want to talk to her. You think
it'll be all right?

Sure. Well, good morning, young.

Ready for a little shooting?

Certainly, Mr.

Woodridge. Ready to go. Good.

What do I wish you two?

Happy skates?

Let's go, huh?

Oh, is that what you're having,
straight?

It's good for the eyesight and reflexes.

I must say you have quite a background
for an investigator, Jones.

Graduate school, degree in forensics.

You checked me out.

I had to.

It's a private club.

Well, Mr. Woodridge, degrees are nice to
hang on your wall.

I'm glad I have mine, but I always tried
not to let book learning interfere with

my education.

Shall we get after these clay pigeons?

That's what we're here for.

Your Honor, sir.

Thank you.

Pull!

Good steering, Joe.

Pull!

You're not bad yourself.

You and Roy Bantry have been friends a
long time.

You mean Bantry from the inn?

Yes. Ever since the water skiing
accident.

About then. Pull!

Shame you couldn't have reached Jordan
on time.

Well, I tried.

Who?

Yes, I know you tried.

Miriam told me. She's very proud of you.
Said you risked your life to save him.

Well, naturally, of course.

Could we shoot?

I mean, I don't see what this has to do
with anything.

Hey, chum. Well, let me show you how
that's done.

You crazy. You want to kill somebody?
Come on, Craig.

Let me...

Here, hold my drink. Quiet!

Oh!

Oh, that beautiful scotch.

Why don't you go sit down?

Thought you knew my great -grandmother
was Annie Oakley.

Go on back to the watering hole.

I'll get some more shells.

You really think you have something,
huh? Could be, could be.

Jacket.

Human

hair.

Oily.

Scalp hair. The, uh, comb.

One from the comb fell out naturally.

The other one was pulled out.

You notice on the hair that was pulled
out, that's the one on the top.

The root is full and seems to have
traces of blood on it.

They look identical.

Same diameter, similar medulla.

Both hairs came from Harry Doyle. One
from his comb, the other from the jacket

of the suspect.

The third hair, the black one, that
shouldn't have come from Harry's clone.

I found it on a lapel of Harry's jacket.

Human hair.

Funny.

It's not oily.

Cut on one end.

There's something not a root on the
other.

Oriental hair.

Perfectly round, definite medulla.

That's why their hair hangs so
beautifully.

Oriental hair.

Cut on one end, something not a root on
the other.

Glue.

Doll's hair.

All this water skiing stuff and taking
care of me.

He's not just some old character you can
file and forget. He's trouble, Craig.

Where is he now?

I don't know where he is every minute.

I'm going out to my Ananitas. You let me
know as soon as he gets back to the

inn. Craig, I have a business to run.

Bantry, you do as I tell you to do.

What are you doing here with Bantry?
What's going on?

There's nothing going on.

Where are you going?

Out.

When will you be back? I have no idea.

Are you going to look for Harry?

I'm not really interested in Harry.

Craig, where is he?

How should I know? Would you get off my
back about Harry?

You do know.

Why won't you tell me?

Hello. Oh, Miriam.

Is Craig there?

No, he isn't. Has he left for his aunt's
house yet?

He didn't say.

Oh. Well, thank you, Miriam.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

This is Toshio from Kyoto.

A favorite of mine, aren't you, Toshio?

Harry Doyle must have liked Toshio, too.

Oh, he likes all my little friends.

Um, you had a nice visit with Mr. Doyle.
Oh, yes, it's so pleasant talking to

him. He's so kind.

He asked for my help.

Oh?

With what?

He's a writer, you know, Mr. Doyle is.
Oh, yes, a famous one.

Well, then you helped him with his
novel.

Well, he said he was going to write
about my friends.

My real friends. Now, you come on over
and let me introduce you.

Girls, this is Mr.

Jones.

How do you do?

That's Betty.

That's Fran.

That's Edith. And that's Susie.

Mr. Jones is a friend of Mr.

Doyle's. Do you remember the night
parties we had with Mr. Doyle?

Mrs. Woodbridge.

Who's this in the bed?

The young man.

That's Craig.

Poor Craig. He's sick.

Really? Craig?

Why is he sick? The doctors don't know.

The terrible thing is that Craig doesn't
even know he's sick.

I'm going over the master bedroom.

Will you excuse me if I... Surely.

What's that on the floor?

Looks like a piece of manuscript paper.

No, dear.

That's a drop cloth to keep the paint
from getting on the rug.

This is one of Harry Doyle's manuscript
pages.

Oh, dear.

Oh, I didn't realize. I thought...

Did I get any paint on it?

Yes, a little, but it doesn't matter.

Do you have the rest of the pages?

Yes. Mr. Doyle said he wanted to be
perfectly sure about... It was somewhere

here.

Mr. Doyle and I are working on it.

He was going to be back Wednesday.

Yes, next Wednesday.

Oh, you found it.

Good.

if I read it?

Well, of course not.

It's beautifully written.

Just make yourself at home.

It is beautifully written.

What did I tell you?

There's a part here that confuses me a
little.

What's that, dear?

What about Tom Jordan?

The character that would be Craig in
real life let

Tom drown.

He didn't try to help him.

But Craig let Tom drown.

Yes, it's true.

Terrible, but true.

That's why Craig is sick.

The difference between Craig and me
is... Well, I'm

sick. But I know that I am.

And that's why I hope Craig will get
better soon.

Mr. Doyle does, too. It's time.

It was the lies that made Craig sick.

At first, it seemed all right.

but of course it never was.

Craig came and told me, and we both kept
the secret.

But when lies have been buried too long,
they fester, they

rankle.

Harry Doyle is right.

It's time to let in some light.

Yes, but not now, Auntie.

Mr. Jones and I are going to hunt some
pheasants.

Oh, wonderful.

We haven't had any fresh game in such a
long time.

Good hunting.

Yes, of course, you go on with what
you're doing, Auntie.

Oh, my, yes, I've got all this
wallpapering to do.

Of course.

Well, get himself killed?

Where's the body?

Better we dig around here or we fight
it.

Let's keep moving.

Anita knows we're out here.

Anita?

I'll just have to take my chances.

Right there.

Shooting's all over now.

That sure allows you a way to get a
novel written.

Yeah.

He's quite a guy.

Wish I'd known him.

Do you have to go back right away?

No.

How would you like to go up to Morro Bay
and see if we can find some sea otters?

I think that'd be a wonderful idea.

You know, I may never come back to this
downtown.

Let's talk about that on the way.

You know, there's something about
looking at the ocean when you're

about your problems that makes them
seem, well, not as big as you thought

were.

That sounds very comforting and very
cliche.

It is a cliche.

And you know why it's a cliche?

Because it's true.