All language subtitles for Barnaby Jones s03e03 The Challenge

Barnaby Jones, starring Buddy Ebsen.

Also starring Lee Meriwether, with guest
stars Patrick O 'Neill,

Joan Van Ark, Charles Aidman.

Tonight's episode, The Challenge.

until you talk to me.

You mean the way you talk to Nancy?

She had to know.

Sure.

Sure. The wife's always got to know if
the husband's fooling around. Otherwise,

it's no fun.

I told Nancy that I'm in love with you
and that you love me.

I thought I was telling the truth.

Maybe you were, Kathy.

But it doesn't matter now, don't you
see? I mean, the condominiums, the

business, every cent of it dances.

Without her, I've got nothing.

We can live without our money.

Sorry, Kath, but I can't.

I have to go. They booked me on early
flight in the morning.

Arnold, if you change your mind, the ad
agency is putting this up at the Luana

Shores Hotel in Honolulu.

Oh, Mr. Moore.

Mr. Moore, you're a mean man, kicking
out a sweet lady like that.

Not to mention standing up a terrific
girl like me.

You missed our appointment today.

My wife knows all about Kathy and me.
She walked out this morning.

I'm through paying your blackmail,
Kevin.

Oh, it's not that easy, Mr. Moore.

Damn it, friend, the wallet is empty.

You've got no more hold on me.

No more Wednesday appointments. No more
$500 a week to keep your mouth closed.

Now it's my turn to squeeze you.

I'm going to go to the police, and when
they've heard what I have to tell, the

hell that you put me through will be
nothing compared to what they'll do to

Oh, now, Mr. Moore, you're getting
yourself all worked up.

It could be we can work something out.

There is nothing left to work out.

I'd think twice about that, Mr. Moore.

Cabot, you know what I'd do if I were
you?

I'd start running.

Because I'm going to get the first laugh
I've had in months, seeing you behind

bars.

Fred, you made a big mistake.

But Arnold's bathing trunks were still
wet, Mr. Jones.

Did you ever hear of a man taking a swim
just before putting an end to his life?

Well, Mrs. Moore, according to this
police report, that may have been

what he did.

Arnold would never commit suicide, Mr.
Jones.

He enjoyed living too much. He loved all
the good things.

Too much to take his own life.

Most of us do.

Trouble is, most of us are like me. We
can't afford them all.

When my father died, he thought to it
that I could, Mr. Jones.

I loved my husband. I encouraged his
tastes.

Good food, good wine.

Sounds like you think you may have
spoiled him.

Unfortunately, Arnold had another taste
for what he called good company.

He wasn't the most faithful of husbands.

You sure of that?

I suspected it for some time.

Even called in the Raider Detective
Agency to find out once and for all.

What'd they say?

Well, as a matter of fact, the agent on
the case gave Arnold a clean bill of

health.

But he was wrong.

The day Arnold died...

A woman called me.

She didn't give her name.

But she confirmed everything that I had
suspected all along.

I want this data comparison coded for
the last three years, will you?

Barnaby!

What a little place you got here.

Oh, it's about time you came to see it.
Well, come on.

What do you think?

Well, you're doing a lot better than you
were when you were a forensic chemistry

student in my class.

You got more machinery in here than they
moved into my Uncle Ezra's dairy farm

after Aunt Jean got tired of hand
milking.

Well, Raider office total services, from
delivering payrolls to investigating

murder.

I hope you're finally going to take me
up on my offer to join us.

Now, I'm working on a case. About three
months ago, you did a surveillance for a

Mrs. Arnold Moore.

What I would like to see is the
investigative log and also the man who

it, if possible.

Um, investigator, Arnold Moore,
surveillance.

No problem at all. The man you want is
one of our best, Frank Cabot.

Sour ball, Mr. Jones? Oh, thank you very
kindly.

Make yourself comfortable.

There you go.

Let's try my swinging seat.

Interesting, but I, uh, I think I'll
just sit here.

You don't mind?

Probably, I've got to run.

You sure you won't reconsider my offer
and join up? No, thanks.

I always like to do my own milking.

Milking? You a farmer, Mr. Jones?

Well, I left the farm some time ago. I'm
a private investigator.

Retired?

Not yet.

I knew nostalgia was the big thing these
days. I hadn't realized it'd come this

far.

Well, it takes more than age to make an
antique, Mr. Cabot.

I'm looking for information about Arnold
Moore.

Oh, you're the one. Yeah, Moore's
insurance company told me his wife had

private investigator to check on his
debt.

She doesn't think it was suicide.

And you were hired to prove that it was.

Case was kicked over to me about an hour
ago.

You're right. His policy doesn't pay if
it was suicide.

I was just going over his investigation
file.

Say, I'd like to have a look at that.

You're welcome to it.

It's really good. Quite thorough.

Well, Mrs. Moore seems to feel that you
overlooked one thing.

Mr. Moore had a girlfriend.

I don't make mistakes on basics like
that. You read the file.

Moore wasn't involved with anybody.

Well, Mrs. Moore says he was. A woman
even called her.

Yeah, well, Mrs. Moore could be
mistaken.

Well, her husband didn't seem to think
so. As a matter of fact, he admitted it.

Oh, wow.

Oh, boy, it looks like a blue one.

But, you know, it could be that Moore
was out of touch with his girlfriend

I was following him.

That may be.

But I figure if I can find his
girlfriend, she might be able to throw

on what happened the night he died.

You know, Mr. Jones, if you're correct
in this, I've got my professional

standing to redeem.

Tell you what, why don't I wrap this
thing up for both of us?

Well, I appreciate that very much, Mr.
Cabot, but I don't think it'd be fair to

my client.

Well, I don't care if they call it an
accident or suicide, but there's no

in both of us spinning our wheels over
the same ground.

Besides, since you're such a good friend
of the management, I won't even send

you a bill.

Well, that's very kind of you, Mr.
Cabot, but I think I'll just keep

foot... in front of the other and see
where it leads me.

Well, that's up to you, but don't
forget, the better man always wins.

I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Cabot.

I'll keep that in mind.

Mr. Stevenson?

Mr. Stevenson?

Oh, what is it, Sheila?

I just wanted to say goodnight. I'm
going home now.

Unless you need me for anything.

No, no, go ahead. Have a nice evening.

Mr. Stevenson?

I beg your pardon? Frank Cabot, Radio
Detective Agency. We've been hired to

into some discrepancies in Vanguard
Investments' business affairs.

Well, that's impossible.

I never made such a decision.

Well, it seems that you're the one man
your board of directors didn't ask.

They're a little upset.

The rip -off comes to over $100 ,000.

Mr. Cabot, this is hardly the place to
be talking about such matters. Well, it

could go back to your office. That's
where you juggled all your accounts,

it? What do you mean juggling? I never
did any juggling. Mr. Stevenson, you can

be honest with me.

These cases are always the same.

A woman gambling?

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

I'm sure your superiors would consider
those stocks a gamble, Mr. Stevenson.

A very poor one.

How did you know about those stocks?

Now look, I'm not a rich man.

When those stocks pay off, they'll be
enough to return the money and still

insure my future.

I'm sorry, Mr.

Stevenson. I know how you must feel, but
I have to make that report.

Now, believe me, it's not easy having to
ruin good people just because they've

made one mistake.

Mr. Cabot, this report of yours, when is
it due?

Tomorrow morning, I'm afraid.

But it could be delayed.

Oh, now, Mr.

Stevenson, I think I see what you're
getting at. But now you're asking me to

my future on the line.

Perhaps if there was some extra money in
it for you.

What? I don't want you to think there's
anybody who couldn't use extra money.

I can make it very attractive. All you
have to do is hold up that report.

Look, you're a nice guy.

That's not right that all the nice guys
in the world have to take in the neck.

Why don't we talk tomorrow?

We can work out the details by then.

Oh, we can. I'm sure that we can.

Well, until then, I don't want you to
worry about a thing, Mr. Stevens.

Okay.

Wait, Mr.

Cabot.

I'm not unskilled.

I felt certain that my transactions were
absolutely untraceable.

How did you find out?

Well, there's one thing about a good
detective, Mr. Stevenson.

He's always got his ways.

You could.

You really could.

We've got it made.

Well, not quite.

Now, when you're all finished, bring me
everything you find in the filter trap.

Oh, sure.

Well, Mr. Jones.

Up early, huh?

Well, I don't like to let much time go
by. You're kind of up with the chickens

yourself.

Yeah, well, I got this strange rooster
with built -in AM, FM, radio, stereo,

tape deck, the whole thing. Wakes me up
every morning crawling the news.

So, did you find anything important
while time was jogging by?

Depends on what you consider important.

Take a look over here.

Is this where Moore went over?

According to where the police found his
body.

Now, why would a man bend on killing
himself?

Pick a place like this where he had to
fight his way through a jungle.

If you ever decide to go over, you want
a nice clear runway, is that it?

Seems to me this would be a more likely
spot.

I don't want to punch her any pet
theories, but according to the

talked to, this might be too easy.

What do you mean?

Well, a man committing suicide is
usually trying to prove something.

Now, nine times out of ten, he'll choose
the most difficult way.

Then he's got more time to change his
mind if he's afraid.

You might have a point.

Mr. Jones?

Yeah.

I'm just about finished, but I think I
did get everything that was in that

filter trap just like you asked for. Oh,
thank you very much. This may be very

helpful.

Well, they say that the depths of the
sea hold many secrets. I didn't know

applied to swimming pools.

Well, when you don't know what you're
looking for, it doesn't hurt to look

everywhere.

Yeah, if you say so.

Why don't you let me take that down to
our lab? They'll do the analysis for you

in no time.

Well, I don't want to inconvenience you.

My lab may be old -fashioned, but we got
the work done.

I'll tell you what.

I'll send you a copy of the report.

And since you're such a good friend of
the management, I won't even send you a

bill.

Here you go.

A thousand dollars?

All you have to do to earn it is to hold
up that report of yours.

Well, how do I explain these inaccurate
figures in the company's accounts?

You give me enough time and I'll take
care of those. Believe me, those stocks

will pay off when the market turns
around.

Okay, Mr. Stevenson, you made yourself a
deal.

Thank you, Mr. Cabot.

You won't regret this.

I'm sure I won't.

See you next week.

What was that, Mr. Cabot?

Next week.

Same time, same place.

Now, $1 ,000 is a great deal of money in
some circles, but you'll have to admit

it's a little inadequate when you
consider the risk.

It's all I can afford. I have a family
to take care of. So do I.

If you took more than $100 ,000, you're
going to more than double that.

Not till the stocks go up. I can't touch
them till then.

Mr. S., you're a smart man.

Now, who's to know if you dip your hand
in the till again, you might even get

better at it. Practice makes perfect.

You're a blackmailer. You're nothing but
a blackmailer. I guess that's just

another shame you'll have to live down.

Starting another man on the road to
crime.

I'll regard this check as a down
payment. You can pay the rest on weekly

installments. Say $500 each.

If I refuse?

Oh, well, I'm afraid I'll have to make
my report very prompt and very damaging.

Neither one of us wants that, do we?

I should have recognized you for the
thief you are from the start.

Now, now, don't be sulky.

See you in seven days.

I don't want to spoil your mood or
anything, but may I ask what you're

here? I mean, are you deliberately
trying to blow your cover? I waited

left. He never saw me.

I called Kathy Sayers' agent this
morning. She's finished her modeling

assignment and she'll be flying into L
.A. tonight. Oh, that's wonderful.

That's really wonderful. That's
terrific, but I didn't ask you to do

I was just trying to please you.

Sheila, you're an inside operative. Your
job is to get in where I put you and to

learn what I need to know.

And the way to please me is to do just
what I tell you. Now, no more

volunteering. You understand?

Yes.

Made out of fired clay. And you see that
little smudge down at the end?

Mm -hmm. Just barely.

Well, I didn't. Some scraping of that
and ran a test and turned out to be ash.

Then what you have me staring at is
probably just a broken piece of ashtray?

There are about three or four more just
like it up on the roof next to the pool,

and that's where this one came from.

What does it prove?

Maybe nothing. It depends on how it was
broken and when.

Hello, Kathy.

How'd you like Hawaii?

Who are you and how did you get in here?

Detective, Miss Sayers would like to
talk to you about Arnold Moore.

Arnold?

Is something wrong?

Mr. Moore is dead, Miss Sayers.

Happened a few days ago.

Sorry, Miss Sayers.

I know this must come as a great shock.

I've been away on a fashion layout.

How did it happen?

Violently. That's why I wanted to talk
to you. You were one of Morris' secrets.

Anyone know he was seeing you?

There was Carl Hastings. We ran into him
once at a restaurant.

Carl was a good friend.

He pretended not to see us.

In fact, I don't even think he got a
good look at me.

Anyone else?

Anyone who wasn't such a friend who
might have wanted to hurt him?

There was a man.

Arnold told me about him. He was
blackmailing Arnold.

You never saw this man?

No, no, but Arnold did mention his name.

Cahill... No.

Cabot, that's it. Frank Cabot.

Miss Ayers, I think you'd better come
with me.

Yes.

Anything I can do to help.

By the way, how did you know about me?

Excuse me, officer. Can I see your ID
again?

So that's what happened to the ashtray.

Mr. McKay, do you recall exactly when
you noticed there was one missing?

Oh, I recall, Mr. Jones, I recall.

See, part of my job's buying
replacements for anything that gets

Now, the ashtray was gone the morning
after... after what happened to Mr.

You sure about that?

Yes, sir. See, the night before, I'd
just finished cleaning the pool area

Mr. Moore came out to swim.

Now, when I left, all the ashtrays were
there.

And the next morning, there was one
missing.

Yes, sir, but there were no broken
pieces I would have noticed.

Well, now, if the police sealed off the
rooftop within 15 minutes of Mr. Moore's

fall, that would mean that whoever
picked up the broken pieces of the

would almost have to have been there
when he fell.

Did you notice any of the other tenants
on the roof?

No, sir, it's really too chilly for most
of our people, except for Mr. Moore.

Well, thank you very much, Mr. McKay.

Ms. Moore, you didn't ever see the woman
who called you, did you?

No.

I don't know now if I'm glad or very
sorry.

Did your husband have any other, well,
people who were close to him?

There was one person, an old school
friend he brought into the business,

Hastings.

Why?

We're looking for a witness.

Special kind of a witness who could
explain how your husband could jump to

death and at the same time manage to
dispose of a broken ash tree.

Thank you.

Mr. Hastings?

What a slice you got there.

Right on dog legs.

I had an uncle who used to practice his
rhythm by swinging a horseshoe tied to a

rope.

Used to kick himself in the stern a lot,
but it cured his slice.

I'll try to remember that. Are you some
kind of pro? Pro detective.

Your office said I might find you here.
My name is Barnaby Jones.

Nancy Moore hired me to look into the
death of her husband.

I'm sorry.

I'm afraid I have nothing to say.

Mr. Hastings, you were Arnold Moore's
closest friend. I'm hoping that he told

you something about that girlfriend of
his.

Arnold's dead, Mr. Jones.

Why can't we leave it at that? His wife
needs to know how he died, and I think

she's entitled to that, don't you?

Arnold Moore was the best friend I ever
had. He gave me a chance, a job, when

nobody else would.

Well, he doesn't sound like the kind of
a man who would object to the truth.

Besides, if you cleared your mind, it
might improve your golf swing.

Okay, Mr. Jones.

I have been going through Arnold's
business accounts.

Found a series of weekly withdrawals.

$500 each, stretching back three months
now.

Now, what do you suppose you did with
all that money?

I don't know.

It was listed under the heading of out
-of -pocket expenses.

I can only tell you, Mr. Jones, our
pockets never had business expenses like

that. Your girlfriend?

I knew Arnold was seeing a young lady.

If he were alive, I'd never say
anything, you understand?

Now, what do I tell Nancy?

Hastings?

Excuse me, uh, Frank Cabot.

Morning, George. You're really doing
quite well. Those feet of yours are

right along.

Well, apparently, uh, you're not doing
too badly yourself.

Matter of fact, I'm not.

How well would you say you knew Maura's
girlfriend, Mr. Hastings?

I only saw her once.

That was that time at the restaurant,
right?

Yeah. Was this the girl?

I can't be sure. It was four months ago.

Lights were dim. I was across the room.

I'll take your time. Study it carefully.

The hair color's right.

She has that willowy look.

That's fine, Mr. Hastings.

You've been quite a help.

Oh, I'm sorry. I take it you haven't
found the mystery lady yet.

No, Mr. Cabot, and I must admit I'm
impressed.

No, no, no. Please, please. I owe it all
to a certain kindly stranger.

After you poked holes in my old report,
I thought I'd better fill them in.

We do say a man learns by his mistakes.

Well, that's something we can all
remember.

Now, don't let these little setbacks get
you down, Jonesy. Always better days

ahead.

Thank you, Mr. Hastings.

Thank you.

Operator, this is mobile LG 15699.

Give me 555 -8442.

Mr. Stevenson's office.

All right, lady, now's the time you can
really start pleasing me.

How you doing, Jones?

Just fine.

I figured that you wouldn't mind if I
joined you.

Jones, if I did, I'd have lost you
about, oh, about five miles back.

I'm much obliged, Mr. Cabot.

You've given an old hound the thrill of
the chase.

My pleasure.

Just who is it that we're not going to
find here anyway?

I'll see for yourself.

Is there something I can do for you two
gentlemen?

Sheila Bonner? Yes. Private
investigators?

What terrible crime have I committed?

We just want to ask you a few questions.

All right, come on in.

I'm not really feeling very well, but if
it's important enough for the two of

you to come here... I realize it's
difficult when you've lost a loved one.

Does this have to do with Arnold?

No one wants to bring up any pain, Miss
Bonner, but we have to have information

about Mr. Moore.

The only thing that matters is that he's
gone and I'm alone.

Miss Bonner, nothing can change that.

No.

Not now.

But if I hadn't called her, if Arnold
and I hadn't argued... You argued?

Yes, the night he died.

I went to see him up at the pool.

He was furious at me for having called
his wife.

I suppose I was just as angry.

Why couldn't he see that I'd done it for
us?

That's how you left it?

No.

Not quite.

When Arnold said I'd ruined his life, I
told him if that was the way he felt

about it, then it was over between us.

I was finished.

I didn't mean it, but... But what?

Arnold pushed me. I hit a table and
knocked over an ashtray.

Would you believe it? I actually cleaned
up the pieces.

Why did you bother at a time like that?

Well, it's a woman's trick doing
something silly like that. It took the

the fight.

And it gave Arnold a chance to
apologize.

Where did you put the broken pieces?

I dumped them into the trash bin on my
way out.

You say Mr. Moore apologized?

Yes.

Only I told him to forget it. I was
finished.

I hoped he'd come after me, but he
didn't.

I just have one more question.

You have some very nice pieces in here.
Did you buy them yourself?

Arnold enjoyed giving me nice things. I
guess I just didn't have whatever it

takes to turn them down.

Do you also pay the rent?

You said just one question, Mr. Jones.

Thank you, Miss Bonner. Sorry we had to
come by.

Sorry about everything.

Like I said, Jonesy, you should have let
me wrap this up for you.

You think this is all?

Well, Arnold Moore wakes up one morning
with everything. By that same night,

he's got nothing. Nothing at all. Not
even his mistress.

Wouldn't you say that's a good motive
for suicide?

Moore's insurance company will be very
happy, Mr. Cabot.

I'd say you've got your motive all
right.

I'm sorry I'm late.

Any luck so far?

You know, Betty, I could have sworn this
was a murder.

Well, maybe these can help.

Arnold Moore's business records.

And, well, there's everything that I
could find on Sheila Bonner.

Arnold Moore and Sheila Bonner.

You know, listening to that young lady
today was just like...

Reading Cabot's surveillance log.
Everything's so pat.

She did have all the answers.

Yeah, and no place to check them out.

I can't figure out all these
withdrawals.

Prices are going up, Farmer.

Even with girlfriends.

But $500 a week.

And as regular as clockwork.

What is it?

Maybe this clockwork has some kind of a
calendar in it. When was it that Mrs.

Moore received that report from Cabot?

It was three months ago, on the 3rd.
That's the same week I know Moore made

first withdrawal.

And we know from Hastings that Moore had
been seeing that girl for over four

months.

I get it. The $500 withdrawals didn't
begin until... Three months ago.

The very same week that Cabot... Gave
Moore a clean bill of health with his

wife.

You think Moore paid Cabot to keep quiet
about the girlfriend?

That would sure explain these strange
entries in Cabot's log.

You think he doctored that?

It fits.

And so does something else.

What? Once the girlfriend blew the
whistle by calling the wife, Moore had

nothing else to hide.

Then he would have no reason to keep
paying Cabot.

Exactly.

And Cabot is not the type who becomes a
good loser or wants any witnesses

around.

What about all the things that Sheila
Bonner told you?

Sheila Bonner.

I haven't quite figured out that young
lady.

According to her employment records, she
worked in a lot of places in a very

short time.

She once worked for one of those
temporary office help companies. Maybe

the habit.

Where did they place her?

That list and that one.

Raider detective agents.

Barnaby, she worked there.

All right, Barnaby.

Someone by the name of Sheila Bonner was
working here as a temporary secretary

last year. But we employ temporaries all
the time.

Did you know that that girl has shown up
working at half the businesses Cabot

investigated for you since then? They
probably worked well together.

As you know, a few of our investigators
recruit people to work as inside

operatives, pay them out of their own
pockets.

What's this case Cabot's working on now,
Vanguard Investments Incorporated?

Oh, their board was afraid the
controller was getting greedy and they

want to frighten the stockholders with
an audit, so they hired us. Why?

Did you know that Sheila Bonner's
working for them?

Look, Barnaby, all I know is, according
to Cabot, at Stevenson, the Comptroller

is clean.

Are you a betting man?

No.

Good, because I wouldn't bet on
Stevenson's honesty.

What about Cabot? The way I feel about
him is, uh, I'd appreciate it if you

didn't tell him I was here.

Barnab... Barnaby!

No, really.

Hang on to your questions, because I'm
going to have some answers very shortly.

Here's that report.

Peter's supposed to leave some stuff on
his desk for me.

Mr. Stevenson's office.

Put Stevenson on.

Frank, what's the matter?

This isn't a question and answer
session, Sheila. Now put him on.

Yes.

told you, Mr. Jones. Mr.

Stevenson's left for the day.

Forgive me, Miss Bonner, but after the
story you told me yesterday, I find it

hard to believe what you're telling me
today.

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

You're almost as good at this as your
friend Cabot. What did he do?

Cut you in on a percentage?

Mr. Jones, if you don't get out of here,
I'm going to call a security guard.

It's not just blackmail now, Miss
Bonner.

If I'm right.

You could be charged as an accessory to
a murder.

I told you, I don't know anything about
Mr. Cabot or Mr. Moore.

You ought to at least know where your
boss went.

I'm afraid Mr.

Stevenson can't be reached.

It's a shame I couldn't reach you, Miss
Bonner. It's a real shame.

Judy, will you please take Mr.

Stevenson's calls?

All right, Cabot, what is it now? What
do you want? Oh, nothing, nothing. I'm

letting you off the hook, Mr. Stevenson.
What about your report?

Well, I'm going to help you out. We'll
just have to figure it out, exactly how

to keep your accounts from conflicting
with my report.

Come on, let's take a walk.

The best cover -up would be to blame the
whole thing on a bookkeeping error.

Say that the money that's gone never
really existed. Now, if your report

back that up... Stay, Renson.

That's as far as we go.

Well, what are you doing?

Sorry. I have a delicate situation.
You're a weak man. You broke for me,

cave in for anybody else.

Yeah, but please.

What are you doing here?

Jones figured it out. It's too late.

Stop it. Freeze.

Stupid. All of you are stupid.

Seems I was wrong for once, Jonesy.

Better man doesn't win after all.

Let's go, Cap.