All language subtitles for Perry Mason S06E10 The Case of the Lurid Letter.DVDRip.NonHI.en.CBS

I told him I already had
a date with Bobby Slater.

What are you going to do if
he finds out you really haven't?

I'll just have to leave
the country, that's all.

All right, girls, back
to the salt mines.

- Oh, Mrs. Wardman.
- We thought you were still inside.

Well, that's where I should
be, and so should you.

The bell's due to
ring in 20 seconds.

Whoo. Now, that's
what I call a photo finish.

Mr. Mangan, won't you join us?

Why, sure, Janie.

I-I mean, Mrs. Wardman.

I'd be glad to.

All right now. How many of you
have finished David Copperfield?

None of you?

Well, why not?

Agnes?

Bobby?

Well, uh, don't you
know the answer,

uh, Mrs., uh... Mrs. Wardman?

No, I don't, but I'd like to.

Maybe you'd like
to tell me after class.

Oh, well, uh,

wouldn't you much rather have
someone, uh... someone older stay?

Uh, say, uh, Pat Mangan maybe?

Mrs. Wardman,
the principal's office.

You're wanted right away.

Thank you, Elsie.

We'll continue this
when I get back.

Oh, what a time
to be called away.

Just when some of my
most lovable students

were trying to light
firecrackers under me...

Mr. Rixby wants
you to go right in.

All right. What's
he want, Doris?

I really wouldn't
know, Mrs. Wardman.

Mrs. Slater.

Mrs. Wardman.

Would you prefer that I
handle this, Mr. Rixby?

Frankly, I'd prefer
nobody handled it,

but as acting
principal here, Jane,

I've been ordered by the
Board of Education to, uh,

well, to ask for
your resignation.

My resignation?

You didn't know
that the board and I,

as representative of the
high school Parents' League,

discussed your case last night?

You mean that note I
sent in about Pat Mangan?

No, no note was mentioned,
Mrs. Wardman, but a letter was.

Show her your copy, Mr. Rixby.

"Judge Edward Daily, President,
Placer Hill Board of Education.

"Isn't it about time you caught
on to what a certain young widow

"had been doing nights with the
boys in her senior English class?

"Making passes and more,

"not only with Kenneth
Sterling before he died,

but now with"...

This is horrible.

You don't believe
this, do you, Everett?

It apparently doesn't much
matter what I believe, Jane.

An anonymous letter not
even mentioning my name?

Oh, we investigated,
Mrs. Wardman.

There's no doubt that
the young widow is you.

After Kenneth Sterling's accident, we
were prepared to shrug off any gossip.

We thought we understood
your relationship with him.

But this we can't shrug off.

Of course, there's nothing to be gained
by the public washing of dirty linens,

so to speak, so we're giving
you this chance to resign quietly,

thus closing the matter.

Well, what do you
say, Mrs. Wardman?

Well, what can I say?

Hi. I'm sorry I didn't
get back to English...

I sure appreciate
this, Mr. Mason.

Isn't very often a big-city lawyer
pays a courtesy call on a rustic confrere.

Oh, hello, Jane.
This is Mr. Mason.

He's taking the Beecham cottage
for a couple weeks of trout fishing.

- This is Mrs. Wardman.
- How do you do, Mrs. Wardman?

Mr. Mason.

Just go on in, Jane.

Be with you in the
shake of a lamb's tail.

Now, Judge Daily, about
those secret trout pools...

Hold on. That "judge"
is strictly a hangover

from a short term as justice
of the peace years ago.

But judge or not, I'm a
first-class fishing guide,

and I'm coming out to show you.

- All right?
- All right.

Well, I guess you
know why I'm here.

Yeah. Mrs. Slater called,
though why, I don't know.

As president of the Board of Education,
I've been delegated to handle this.

Judge Daily, you
were Bill's friend,

executor of his
estate, my lawyer,

and you'd allow me to
be convicted on the basis

of some disgusting charges
in an anonymous letter?

Jane, you remember what
I said right after Bill died,

and you were debating whether
to stay here and teach or to go on?

You said as a stranger, people
would be suspicious of everything I did,

but that was over two years ago.

Doesn't matter.

This is an old-fashioned
town, Jane...

Ingrown, living
in its mining past.

You were a woman who
somehow got hold of Bill Wardman

while he was a geologist
out in the Far East,

brought him home to die,

then tried to take his place.

In the eyes of some people,
you're still a stranger, I guess.

Well, stranger or not,

did it ever occur to anybody, even
for a second, I might be innocent?

Yes, for a good deal
more than a second.

But let me explain
something, Jane.

The school board isn't
saying you're guilty.

No one's referring any
legal charges against you,

so there's no
question of dismissal.

But here is some,

well, awkward evidence.

Enough evidence to
justify a board hearing.

Now, a hearing is
going to mean publicity,

mudslinging, name-smearing.

The board's willing to let
it rest, provided you resign.

And if I resign, how will I
ever prove my innocence?

- You are innocent, Jane?
- Of course I am.

Well, there was some talk about you and
this boy Kenneth Sterling before he died.

Judge Daily, you
knew Kenneth Sterling...

A sensitive, mixed-up
rebel with no family to turn to.

I-I was merely
trying to help him.

And you didn't make any, uh...
Any passes at him, as the letter says?

No, I did not.

Or to Pat Mangan, whom
the letter also names?

That monster?

Now, he says you did, Jane,

and so do some
of the other boys.

Who are they?

Well, the board thinks
it's best for their families,

and for the community, too, if
their names are not brought into this.

In fact, I'm the only
one that's talked to them.

And they told you that I...

Yes, Jane, they did.

Oh, Mrs. Wardman.

I was told the town
taxi parked here.

It's 30 minutes now
and still no sign of it.

Sometimes it
disappears for hours.

I'm afraid I can't
wait that long.

Is there any place I can rent a
car? Mine's laid up until morning.

Well, I'd be happy
to give you a lift.

I couldn't put you
to all that trouble.

The Beecham cottage is more
than halfway to the summit.

Well, it just so happens I have to go
out that way and pick up my son Terry.

Come on. Hop in.

How are you, Janie?

That's a pretty dress
you're wearing, Janie.

How about taking us, huh?

Thanks very much.

That's quite all right.

Maybe I can repay the
favor next time we meet.

I don't imagine
we will, Mr. Mason.

Not in Placer Hill anyway.

Bye.

You're late, Mom. All the
other guys have gone home.

I'm sorry, Terry.

I'll tell you what. Why don't
we stay here and have dinner?

I don't feel much
like cooking anyway.

Hey, can I have a steak?

Well, you sure can.

The sky's the limit.

♪♪

How come you're not
eating? Is something wrong?

What makes you think that?

Well, you look sort of pale,
like when you had the flu.

Well, I've got just the thing
for pale, young widows.

It's a double old-fashioned,
compliments of the management.

That's very nice of
you, Gus, but no, thanks.

I don't drink.

Well, that's not exactly what
they're saying around town.

Terry, you remember
Mr. Wiler, don't you?

Sure. He was assistant football
coach at your school last year.

Your mom's school? That's funny.

- I heard she wasn't there anymore.
- I think you'd better leave, Gus.

Just kidding, Everett.

Thanks.

Well, the dashing US
Marines to the rescue.

Only, I didn't quite cut such a
dashing figure in my office today.

That's why I came in when I saw
your car outside... to try and explain.

There's nothing to
explain. I understood.

Yeah.

Understood that the she-dragon
of the Parents' League

had me completely buffaloed.

What did you decide?

Nothing yet.

Well, when you do,
let me know first, hmm?

So I can take first
stab at the dragon.

Oh, look, this is stupid.

You can't get mixed
up in this thing.

The board could fire you,
ruin your whole career.

There's not much point in being
a principal without principles.

I don't want to cause
any more trouble. I've...

Everett, could we talk
about this tomorrow?

Sure. So long, Terry.

Bye, Mr. Rixby.

What's this all about, Mom?

Well, Terry, it's
about a letter.

An unsigned letter

received by the Board of
Education a day or so ago

accusing me of making...

what's called...

improper advances

towards some of the boys
in my senior English class.

How silly can anybody get?

Trouble is, according
to Judge Daily,

some of the boys say it's true.

Mom, how could they?

I'll bet it's that
dirty Pat Mangan.

- Yes, he's one of them.
- What's Judge Daily say?

That I could resign
without any fuss

or insist upon a hearing.

But he feels that if I...

Well, if we win,

that people will still say that
there's some truth in the charges.

Well, his advice is to...

stop thinking about fighting
and just move out of here.

Run away?

Well, after all, Terry,
it's partly my fault.

I was stupid enough to think
I could help Kenneth Sterling.

You know what happened to him.

But that was an accident. He
skidded his motorcycle off a cliff.

What would Dad
do if he were here?

He'd stay and fight.

Then let's stay and fight.

Terry?

Yes, Mom?

Is that a motorcycle behind us?

Yeah. It looks sort
of like Pat Mangan's.

Hi there, Janie baby.

I think I'll slow down
and let him pass us.

Mom, there's some other
motorcycles behind him.

There are four, I think.

- See them?
- Yes, I see them.

They're coming closer.

Mom, look out!

Hello, little baby!

Aw, come on!

That's the last one,
Mom. They're gone.

Mom, look!

Come on, honey!

Look out! Look out!

Well, Doctor?

Mild abrasions,

one or two small bruises, and
a pretty fair bump on the head.

You should be
stiff and sore in the

morning, Jane, but
that should be about all.

Did you see the
accident, Mr. Mason?

No, but I heard the crash.

By the time I got outside,
the motorcycles were gone.

However, we've a pretty
good idea as to who they were.

Dr. Grant, you're a member of
the Board of Education, aren't you?

- You told him, Jane?
- Yes, she told me.

And I must say, it's hard to find
the words to express my indignation

and amazement at what's
been done to Mrs. Wardman,

and that her attorney and her
family doctor could be so involved.

Mr. Mason, the board didn't just act
on the basis of an anonymous letter.

A witness was heard...
the Mangan boy.

Don't call him a boy.

He's old enough
to be in the army.

The town bully
and a notorious liar.

Now, now, Jane, I admit his reputation is
not too good, but there were others, too.

Who else testified?

They told their story to Judge Daily,
who quite properly withheld their names.

Why do you say "quite properly"?

There's no point of shaming the families
if we can possibly dispose of this quietly,

as the board hopes to do.

But it's all right to go on shaming
Mrs. Wardman and her son.

Is that the board's
idea of justice?

Mr. Mason, we're
not a court of law.

We're responsible
for our young people.

If we feel they're in jeopardy, right or
wrong, we must do as we think best.

As Mrs. Wardman's family doctor,

do you honestly believe that your
young people could be in jeopardy?

Mr. Mason, the board
asked me that same question.

As a doctor, I was forced to tell them
that persons who were suddenly cut off

from the love and emotional
outlets they were accustomed to

sometimes do lose their
judgment and self-control.

- Did you tell them I'd lost control?
- Of course not, Jane.

Did you tell them that
she hadn't lost control?

I ventured no opinion.

That was very
courageous of you, Doctor.

Do you suppose
she's still in town?

Maybe she ran off with Pat Mangan
and Bobby Slater somewhere.

That's not nice. I don't
care what you think.

- I like Mrs. Wardman.
- So do the boys.

- Good morning.
- Good morning. How are you feeling?

Oh, a few minor aches and
pains. Nothing too serious.

I thought it best if I kept
Terry home from school today.

Mrs. Wardman,
this is Paul Drake,

the private detective I
told you about last night.

- Mrs. Wardman.
- Mr. Drake.

He's here to help you.
That is, if you want help.

I honestly don't know
what I want, Mr. Mason.

I'm sure it's a hard decision.

Almost no one on your side
except a vacationing lawyer

whom you barely know.

But there's something odd here.

The whole town's
stirred up, and so rapidly.

Mrs. Wardman,
the boy who died...

- Kenneth Sterling?
- Mmm.

I guess it's standard procedure for
me to wonder about violent fatalities,

but I understand that you were the
closest thing to a family the boy had.

Could his death possibly
have anything to do with this?

No, I don't think so.

It happened in the next county,
near Cactus City, about a month ago.

Kenneth was in one of his states
of revolt against life in general

and the high school
in particular that night.

- How do you know that?
- Well, I received

one of my midnight
phone calls from him,

and I talked to
him for awhile, and,

well, I thought I
calmed him down,

but later that night,

apparently he was going so fast

that his motorcycle

skidded off the road
and into a ravine.

Paul, there are two
avenues of approach here.

One is to force an open hearing
before the Board of Education.

The other is to unmask
the writer of that letter.

- How can you do that?
- Well, possibly through the letter itself.

We have the photostat
Mr. Rixby showed you yesterday.

It looks as if it were written
on an Imperial super-quiet.

The stationery store will give me a list
of all the people in town who bought one.

And there's a certain amount of
pressure that can be put on Pat Mangan

because of last night's episode and
the note you sent to the board about him.

Her note to the board? I
hadn't heard about that.

I was just reporting on something
that happened at a school dance.

I had a little trouble
with Pat Mangan, so

I... I reported it to
Mr. Rixby, of course.

There were some
things that Pat said

that made me wonder

if someone wasn't
selling liquor to those boys.

Someone like Gus Wiler,
maybe, at the Summit Inn.

That in itself could be useful.

But before we can
do a thing, Jane,

I must be empowered
to represent you.

I think it might be easier
if I just packed up and left.

- Mom?
- Yes?

You said Dad would
have fought, didn't you?

Yes, Terry.

Well, aren't we Wardmans, too?

All right, Mr. Mason.

You're empowered
to represent me.

This is from a standard
motorcycle-tire tread, Perry.

You think you can identify
which of the boys' bikes was here?

Well, maybe. Couple
of breaks in this one.

What's going on?

Who are you guys?

Mr. Wiler?

I could be. Why?

You know Pat Mangan and
his group pretty well, don't you?

They ride their motorcycles out here
sometimes, but I hardly know them.

Funny.

I just heard a rumor
that you've been selling

them a bottle of liquor
every now and then.

Yeah?

- Are you Pat Mangan?
- What do you want?

We're running a check on super-quiet
typewriters. I understand you own one.

So?

Well, I wondered if I
could see it, please.

- My company's interested...
- Get out of here, buddy! We don't want any

- Look, you don't understand.
- I saw you out there!

Whatever you're nosing around
for, do it someplace else, huh?

- Wait a minute!
- This is my porch! Get off!

Pat, what's going on out here?

Oh, you're asking questions
about Pat's typewriter.

- Is that it, mister?
- That's right.

Well, he traded it in about two months
ago as part payment on a new motorcycle.

You stay out of my way, buddy.

Next time I catch you,
you ain't gonna be so lucky.

In the house, Pat!

- Nice kid.
- "Kid"?

You ought to feel the
arms on that moose.

You can take it.

- Paul?
- Yeah?

I think there's a way we might
force a few hands around here.

It's up to the board,
not me, Mrs. Slater.

If Mrs. Wardman is
choosing to fight this thing...

All right, all right.

Apparently we're just going to have
to take matters into our own hands.

- Good day.
- Good-bye.

- Oh, Mr. Rixby.
- Mr. Mason.

What may I do for you?

By any chance, do you
have a transcript of the notes

taken at the board
meeting night before last?

Doris Wilson has.

She acts as secretary
for the board. Doris.

Yes, I have the
notes, Mr. Mason,

but, uh, well, I really don't
think I should let you see them

without authorization
from Judge Daily.

Oh, I've tried him
but with no success.

And I haven't been
able to persuade him

to hold an open hearing

on the charges against Jane.

Well, I can't help you there.

Possibly you can.

Come over here to the window.

That Pat Mangan out there?

Yes, that's Pat.

What would you do if he
suddenly attacked a stranger

walking across
the school grounds?

Well, he's a bully and a sadist, but I
don't know about attacking a stranger.

I'm willing to gamble
that he's going to.

I'm also willing to gamble that
you're going to call the police.

Well, in matters like that, I'm
really supposed to report first...

To the board?

You'd call Judge Daily?

I, uh, guess that would put
him on the spot, wouldn't it?

I guess he'd have
to call in the police.

Exactly.

Well, look who's here.

This is the wise guy I
was telling you about.

This time, good buddy, you're
going to get the full treatment.

From you alone, or with
the help of your friends?

I don't need no help.

Look out!

Aahhh!

No, Mr. Mason, there's been
no call from Judge Daily yet,

and it doesn't seem
like there's gonna be one.

Now, as far as that accident
business last night is concerned,

I'm afraid I haven't
gotten much further with

those motorcycle tracks
than Mr. Drake here.

Sheriff, what about the possibility
that Gus Wiler or someone else

has been selling
the boys liquor?

That's pretty hard to
believe about old Gus,

although the boys do kick
up their heels now and again.

But this county's
always been pretty clean.

It's not like Cactus County, where young
Sterling got liquored up the night he died.

Sterling was drunk that night?

Well, the autopsy report did show
some alcohol in the bloodstream.

But I'm afraid there's more than a dozen
places in Cactus City that sell to minors.

Paul, you'd better do a
little checking in Cactus City.

Hello, Judge.

Business?

Heard Mr. Mason was here.

Thought I'd have a little
talk with him... Alone, maybe.

Well, I do have an errand to run.
You're welcome to use the office.

However, I would like a word
with you sometime, Judge,

if you can find the time.

Cute idea of yours, starting that
little ruckus on the school grounds,

if I figured it right.

You'd like to get this Jane Wardman
business out in the open, wouldn't you?

In court, maybe?

Yes, in lieu of a formal hearing
before the Board of Education.

I've already vetoed
that. It's too inflammatory.

As for complaining to the authorities
about the ruckus on the school grounds,

I vetoed that, too.

In my opinion, Mr. Drake's
a public benefactor.

I'm only a small-puddle lawyer.

You're gonna find it hard to
force my hand, Mr. Mason.

I've done, and I'll do, what I think
is best for both Jane and the town.

Sheriff just stepped out.

Oh, hello, Sergeant.

For me?

Who?

Going over to Jane
Wardman's house?

Wait a minute. What
are you doing here?

Mrs. Wardman, we've come
here to give you an ultimatum.

If the board won't act, we will.

All of us here have
children in the high school,

and for their protection, we're giving
you this one last chance to resign.

And if I don't resign?

We have voted and decided.

We'll take our children out
of school and keep them out...

The mothers here and
every other mother in town.

And don't think we won't.

You'd do that just
to get rid of me?

Well, we're hoping
we won't have to.

Don't be a fool, Jane.

Resign and get out before
something worse happens to you.

By worse, do you mean
riding her out of town on a rail?

Or perhaps you were
thinking of tar and feathers?

I beg your pardon.

Well, aren't you taking the
law into your own hands?

Condemning her without a trial?

Judge Daily, are these the people
you've been trying so hard to protect?

You've just been a
witness to their behavior...

Breaking and entering,
attempted intimidation, slander.

I warn you,

Mrs. Wardman is going to have a
field day in court with you people.

- Unless...
- All right, Mr. Mason.

You've forced my hand.

All right, folks.

If you'll just take your seats,
the meeting's about to begin.

I just heard from our
Cactus City correspondent.

He's had no luck at all on where
young Sterling got his liquor that night.

- Too many places there sell it.
- And the accident?

Well, if you thought
it was anything more,

I'm afraid you're going
to be disappointed.

How?

The reason the boy spun
off the road wasn't liquor.

He had a heart failure.

This board is now in session

on business we'd hoped would
never have to be discussed.

Uh, I'm sure all of you, and
Mr. Mason, too, will see why in a moment.

We're dealing with something...

Well, something that people
mostly discuss behind closed doors.

The doors are closed,
Judge. Get on with it.

Who was that?

Ed Temple?

Now, one more interruption, Ed, and
I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

And that goes for everyone here.

All right.

Now, first, the letter
that started all this.

But it couldn't be ignored,
and I think you'll all see.

May I see that letter?

Well, I suppose.

This is a photostat.

Yes, I know.

It seems the original
disappeared from Doris' files.

When, Miss Wilson?
When did it disappear?

I don't know.

It was just gone when
I looked for it tonight.

Unless a photostat
is properly introduced,

it isn't admissible as
evidence, so I must object.

Mr. Mason, we'd better get
something straight right off.

It won't do you any
good to object here.

The board is conducting this
hearing the way it thinks best.

That's right, Judge.

"Judge Edward Daily, President of
the Placer Hill Board of Education.

"Isn't it about time you caught
on to what a certain young widow

"has been doing nights

"with the boys in her
senior English class?

"Making passes and more,

"not only with Kenneth
Sterling before he died,

"but now with Pat Mangan
and some of the others.

"Ask them, Judge.

Just ask them,
and they'll tell you."

Would you rather it be you testifying,
Cornelia, or our young people?

I know my duty, Judge Daily.

Then repeat what you
told the board in private.

This is most distasteful.

At the senior dance, held
here in this gymnasium,

at which both Mrs. Wardman
and I were among the chaperons,

I saw her slip out
quietly with Pat Mangan,

and, um...

uh...

Just go on, Cornelia.

She came back about
15 minutes later, alone,

with her lipstick smeared,

her dress disarranged,

and smelling of liquor.

Yes, it was at the same
dance that I saw them...

Pat Mangan and Mrs. Wardman...

On a bench back
of the science hall.

What were they doing, Doris?

They were...

Well, I guess you
could call it necking.

You told this to the
board, Miss Wilson?

Yes, I did.

Very shocking thing.

So shocking, I'm surprised
you didn't mention it

to someone before the
meeting of the board.

But I did. I told Everett... Mr. Rixby,
the acting principal, about it.

Yes, Doris did tell me
the day after the dance.

Why didn't you inform the board?

Oh, I'm sure Doris must have mistaken
one of the girls for Mrs. Wardman.

And, I might add,
I still believe that.

Well, maybe you'll change
your mind, Mr. Rixby,

when you hear the next witness.

Pat Mangan!

Now, Pat, we want you to tell us exactly
what you told the board and no more.

- Do you understand, Pat?
- Yeah, I understand.

The incident at the
last senior dance.

Well, about halfway through,
Janie gave me the eye.

- By Janie, you mean Mrs. Wardman?
- Yeah.

So we went outside and had a
couple drinks from a bottle I had,

and then we necked a little,

and then... then she went back.

Me... I cut out.

Had you ever done a
similar thing with her before?

Sure. Lots of
times, like I told you.

That simply is not true!

He was drinking, so I told him
to go home! It's just not true!

That'll be enough, Jane.

Mr. Mason, I hope
you've heard enough.

I know the good
people out there have.

That'll be all, Pat.

Judge Daily, I'd like to
question Pat Mangan.

Well, if you find that necessary,
we'll resume this hearing tomorrow.

Look out!

Pat said that Gus Wiler
was behind this whole thing?

- Anonymous letter and all?
- That's right, Mrs. Wardman.

Pat had it in for you, too, so he
was only too happy to go along.

Did he say anything
about young Sterling?

I don't know how
you figured it, but yep.

Pat said Sterling might have gotten
a jug from Wiler the night he died.

- At what time?
- Fairly late.

Pat, Sterling, and some of the
others had been drinking earlier.

Sterling said he was gonna
go out and get some more.

Pat figures he went on from
there toward Cactus City.

Jane, when can we find
Wiler alone at the inn?

Well, he usually clears everybody
out around midnight on weekdays.

It's almost 11:00, Paul.

Suppose we stop by
there at about 12:15?

Okay.

Mr. Wiler?

Maybe he's in one
of the back rooms.

No, Paul. I think not.

Wiler.

That's right, gentlemen.

Gus Wiler, and quite dead.

I was about to call the sheriff
when I heard your car outside.

Hadn't you better call him now?

Slant, angle, and alignment...

They're all different.

You're right, Mr. Drake.

The anonymous letter wasn't
written on Gus Wiler's typewriter.

Nor on any of the other
typewriters we took samples from...

Pat Mangan's ex-machine, Doris
Wilson's, Mrs. Slater's, Judge Daily's.

In fact, all the typewriters
on the stationery store list.

Well, isn't it possible, since Gus
obviously didn't write that letter,

that his death has
nothing to do with me?

No, I'm afraid not,
Mrs. Wardman.

Why do you say that?

Folded in his wallet was
the original of the letter.

We thought his typewriter would
surely prove him to be Mr. Anonymous,

like Pat Mangan said.

Of course, Gus could have typed
it on someone else's machine.

But if he didn't, if
he wasn't the one,

that still leaves you with
a dangerous enemy, Jane.

Now, I know we've
been over this before,

but are you sure that Ken
Sterling gave you no clue

as to where he might have
been calling from that night?

Yes, I'm quite sure.

Outside of us, who else
have you told about the call?

Well, Doris Wilson.

We talked about the
accident the next day.

- Anyone else?
- No, no one else.

I didn't feel it was
anyone else's business.

I don't get the
connection, Mr. Mason.

Maybe I can show
you tomorrow, Sheriff,

in fact, with your cooperation.

This meeting will come to order.

I imagine you've
heard about Gus Wiler,

but maybe you haven't heard that
the original of the anonymous letter

was found on his person.

Well, this being the
case, if there's a possibility

that the board has been making
mistakes and hurting people wrongly,

then, frankly, we'd like to let the
proper authorities take over from here.

But Mr. Mason insists that Mrs. Wardman's
hearing be resumed and resumed now.

Well, the way I feel...

Like I told you, Judge, I have
no objections to going on with this.

All right, Sheriff.

All right, Mr. Mason.
It's your move.

Well, uh, first, I'd like
to question Pat Mangan.

I'm sorry, Judge.

His mother and I decided it'd be
better if he got out of town for a while.

If the sheriff wants him, we'll have
him brought back, but not otherwise.

All right.

Then let's call Bobby Slater.

Oh, Bobby!

You were one of the boys Judge Daily
talked with privately, weren't you, Bobby?

Did you tell him the truth about Pat Mangan
and Mrs. Wardman at the senior dance?

The, uh... The truth?

Yes. The things Pat told you
and the other boys after the dance.

What did he tell you?

That...

That, uh, Mrs. Wardman hauled him
outside 'cause he was making trouble,

and, uh...

then she splattered his bottle.

Well, he got scared she'd
start investigating, you know.

By the next day, he
was bragging, though,

laughing 'cause he
spilled liquor on her

and roughed her
up a bit, you know.

Claimed that she'd
made a pass at him.

Did you mention all
this to Judge Daily?

No.

But you did tell him that Mrs.
Wardman had made passes at you, too,

isn't that right?

Yes.

Now, that was a lie, wasn't it?

- Yes, it was a lie.
- Bobby!

I'm sorry, Mom, but Pat said
he'd beat me up if I didn't lie.

That'll be all, Bobby.

Now, Dr. Grant, in a conversation you
had with your fellow members on the board,

I believe you said that
people cut off from love

sometimes lose their judgment.

Now, could that
possibly apply to you?

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

Didn't you once tell Mrs.
Wardman that you loved her?

Ask her to marry you? And
weren't you then refused?

- Yes.
- Didn't you get so angry at that refusal

that you conspired with Gus Wiler to
humiliate her, to drive her out of town?

How could I have
conspired with Gus Wiler?

Weren't you, uh,
his business partner

in the Summit Inn?

Mr. Mason, if you're so interested
in Gus Wiler's business affairs,

I suggest you ask
Judge Daily that.

He was Wiler's landlord.

There's no secret about
me owning property out there.

No, I had nothing to
do with Wiler, either.

I just rented him a
building, that was all.

As for him selling
liquor to minors,

that's why I went out
to see Gus last night

and to find out if the rumors you've been
telling the sheriff about that were true.

However, had you
been his partner,

and supposing that
those rumors were true,

you certainly would
have quarreled with him.

You might even have struck
the fatal blow that killed him.

You might even have planted

the anonymous letter
about Mrs. Wardman on him.

Take that letter.

Why would I write anything
like that about Jane Wardman?

To get her out of town, perhaps,
for fear that her investigation

into the liquor situation might
have led her into realizing

that the phone call she received
from Ken Sterling the night he died

did not come from Cactus
City but from the Summit Inn.

I never heard of such a call.

Now, I have here the phone company
record of that call to her number.

Now, you knew that she was
going to investigate, all right.

She wrote a note to this board

about the boys probably
getting liquor from Gus Wiler.

I never saw such
a note, Mr. Mason.

Never.

Who did Jane give the note to?

Doris Wilson.

I destroyed it.

Why, Doris? Why did you do it?

I cared a great deal for Gus.

I didn't want him to get
into any... any trouble.

Well, Miss Wilson,
after destroying the note,

did you help Gus Wiler
with the anonymous letter,

and persuade Pat and the
others to accuse Mrs. Wardman?

No, no! I don't know
anything about that part.

I-I thought the boys
were telling the truth.

Then why did you change
typewriters the day before yesterday?

Change typewriters?

This was written by me on
your typewriter yesterday.

This was written by you three
days ago, according to the date.

Two different typewriters,
Miss Wilson... A fact I can prove,

just as I can prove that it was
this earlier typewriter of yours

that was used to type the anonymous
letter accusing Mrs. Wardman.

I thought there was
something funny yesterday.

A looser action, and...
And the space bar jumped.

I asked Mr. Rixby if he'd
been using my typewriter again.

- He said no.
- Now, just a minute, Doris.

It's no good trying
to implicate me.

Is she trying to
implicate you, Mr. Rixby?

- Well, who else could she mean?
- Of course.

Who else knew of Jane
Wardman's trouble with Pat Mangan?

Who else knew that she was going
to write a note to the school board?

Who else would have
gone to Gus Wiler

and gotten him to join in a plot

to discredit Mrs. Wardman?

- You're inventing all this.
- Am I inventing this...

A record of the withdrawal of
$11,600 from your bank account?

The exact sum,
incidentally, that Gus Wiler

paid to the people who put
in his bar and café fixtures.

How did Ken Sterling
really die, Mr. Rixby?

What?

Didn't it happen here
instead of Cactus City?

In fact, right at
the Summit Inn?

And weren't you
there at the time?

Knowing that the
discovery of the boy's body

would result in investigations
that would ruin your reputation,

cost you your job, lose
you your life savings,

didn't you then get
Wiler to help arrange

the so-called road accident
outside Cactus City?

No. No!

I warn you, Mr. Rixby,

the midnight call the boy made
from the inn to Jane Wardman

proves that he couldn't have
done his drinking at Cactus City.

It's too far away.

Well, you knew about that call.

And ever since,
you've been afraid

that Jane might discover where it
came from, might discover its meaning.

And then last night, you
heard that Pat Mangan

had confessed all
he knew to Mr. Drake.

Pat Mangan? No.

How could I have known about
any confession of Pat's last night?

From Jane Wardman.

You didn't tell me about that,

did you, Jane?

I'm sorry, Everett,
but I did tell you...

when you called last night after
Mr. Mason and Mr. Drake left the house.

We didn't go out to the
inn until an hour or so later.

There was plenty of time
for you to get there before us.

Plenty of time
to kill Gus Wiler.

Kenneth...

Kenneth Sterling was a
troublemaker at school.

He always was.

One night about a month ago,
I went out there to talk to Gus.

Just about business, that's all.

The boy was there,
and he was drunk.

When he saw me, the principal,
it was like a red flag to a bull.

He attacked me. I
didn't hit him hard.

I only tried to defend myself.

Struggled a little till I could
throw him out the door.

But then later,

Gus and I found him out there,

lying by his motorcycle...

dead.

But last night, Mr. Rixby...

Last night,

why did you kill Gus Wiler?

It... It was my reputation,

my whole life I could have lost.

Don't you see?
Don't you understand?

I had to do something.

Then last night,

Gus Wiler said he wouldn't
stand by me anymore.

He said he didn't
strike the boy.

He didn't move the body and the
motorcycle from one county to another.

He didn't start
something that got bigger

and bigger until it
wouldn't be stopped,

until it couldn't be stopped!

- Mrs. Wardman?
- Yes, Mrs. Slater?

I've been selected to speak for
the mothers and fathers here...

And the Board of
Education, Cornelia.

And the Board of Education, too,

to, um,

well, to tell you how s-sorry and
ashamed we are for the way we've acted,

and to ask you
to stay on here...

If not for your sake, for ours.

Oh, brother. After all this, would I
know how to answer these people.

Mrs. Slater, why do you think
I've been fighting this thing?

Placer Hill is Terry's
and my home.

And we hope it always
will be our home.