Original subtitles

You're late, Pete.

Well, by the time a fella finds a parking place,

he ought to have walked to begin with.

Horses was better anyway.

Here's Reba's safety-deposit key.

Like to ride back out with us?

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

got to tank up first.

You or the jalopy?

Well, I guess it is me, Mr. Malone,

and not the jalopy people call Reelin' Pete.

Can't disappoint the public, now, can I?

Take it easy, Pete.

Always do.

One glass at a time.

Ready.

Sure beats me.

An armored car to bring a shoe box out to some dame.

You're new with the armored car company, aren't you?

Oh, Murphy, don't tell me you've been through

this routine for the old dame before.

Son, your company's paid to guarantee delivery.

Of what, to whom and why may worry the insurers,

but it's not a matter for your personal concern.

Sorry. No offense meant.

None taken.

You ever eat a two-inch steak pit-broiled in rock salt?

That's not fair, Mr. Malone.

I had an early breakfast.

Looks like you never read about the town of Burgess.

About Reba Burgess and the shoe box in the vault.

Doesn't ring any bells.

Well, we don't do this very often,

but the few times we have,

Mrs. Burgess has been very thankful.

That old, uh, dame you were talking about

just happens to be one of

the sweetest women that you'll ever meet.

And Mr. Malone wasn't kidding about the steak.

Well, here we are, Reba.

Got a couple new boys here this morning.

Morning, Mal. Shall we go inside?

Sure.

Doggone, I forgot your vault key again.

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

Maybe we could...

Just send someone out with it.

That'll be all right.

Cut the ribbon, Mal.

You're upset about something, Reba.

What's wrong?

Seal the box, Mal.

Ribbons are getting tattered.

We'll need new ones soon.

Old ribbons to replace,

old wood to burn, old wine to drink and...

old friends to trust, Reba.

Better get going, Mal.

I don't want you boys to miss lunch.

Mr. Malone, uh, there's nothing the matter?

About Mrs. Burgess, I mean.

She looked kind of put out.

I don't know.

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

"Pit-broiled steak."

Oh, sure.

I don't know... Four grown men and a truck

to give a woman a chance to play games

with a ratty old shoe box.

That's what I call being catered to.

And why not?

We'd cater to you, too, if you used our vaults

to store a ratty old shoe box...

with $1 million worth of uncut diamonds inside of it.

It sure is good of you, Reba,

to set everything aside to see me.

Your telegram sounded urgent.

Uh, it's been a long time, hasn't it?

I suppose so.

Going to offer me a drink?

- Mr. Bascom. - Hmm?

You closed down my husband's company,

put half the town out of work, and then disappeared.

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

That's not quite the way it happened.

You know it wasn't.

All right.

My husband wasn't a very good businessman.

But it killed him.

Broke his heart and killed him.

I suppose you know that.

You two were always off... Heaven alone knows where...

Making interesting copy for Sunday supplements.

As pinch-hitting manager for the company,

I only did what I thought was necessary.

I know.

You just don't bring back very nice memories.

That's all.

You think I should have behaved differently?

Taken other steps, perhaps?

Your wire said you were returning to town,

you needed help.

No, not help, Reba.

Money.

I don't take any salary.

No profits since I reopened the company.

I own very little personally.

Very little besides $2 million in negotiable instruments.

Little, shiny, uncut, negotiable instruments.

I-I could let you have a few thousand.

A few thousand?

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

Bascom, I warn you!

Yes?

How much?

Well, let me see.

Uh, Burgess Mining Company must be worth...

$2 million.

Roughly half of that.

A million dollars.

What are you talking about?

What half?

I have this document.

A document signed by your late husband.

Uh, you can check it if you like.

I have a photostatic copy, of course.

But this document names me

a full partner in Burgess Mining Company.

Probate court awarded your husband's entire estate,

including the company, to you as his sole survivor?

My husband died without a will.

He had no family.

The company was his, separate property

inherited from his father before we were married.

And the diamonds?

They were mine alone.

Mr. Mason, there is no question that the signature

on that agreement is my husband's,

but wouldn't his death invalidate a thing like that?

Well, there's a fairly standard clause here.

"The death of either partner shall not dissolve the firm.

"The business shall be continued by the surviving partner

"with the admission of the heir

of the deceased partner in his stead."

So, in theory, Carl Bascom could sue

to have you declared trustee for his half of the business.

Half?

Of the assets.

Of the profits since the date of the agreement.

Half of all future profits...

If the agreement is valid, of course.

Well, do you think it's valid?

Well, it's properly drawn, properly signed.

Yes, it could be valid.

Suppose we make a thorough check

of the company books and records.

There must be some notation supporting or contradicting...

That won't be necessary.

May I have it back, please?

Mrs. Burgess, there's no problem.

We can legally forestall action by Bascom

until we learn exactly what the situation was

at the time of your husband's death.

I know all that I have to know.

May I have the agreement, please?

Mrs. Burgess, a situation like this

calls for much more investigation.

Whatever the situation calls for, I will do alone.

Good afternoon, Mr. Mason.

Miss Street.

Della.

Get hold of Paul Drake, will you, please?

Hello, Bascom.

So you got your old job back, hmm?

Foreman again.

That it, Kelly?

Get out of here before I throw you out.

I'll tell you a secret, uh, Kelly.

I'm really half owner of this mine,

and when I take over, my first official act

will be to fire you again.

You're what?

What are you guys doing in here?

Kelly, you let this bum in?

- No. - Well, we better throw him out fast.

The boss is out front.

She's coming in.

Mr. Reelin' Pete, you just lost your job, too.

I did who?

What are you...?

Reba.

You're late.

We can cut across the mine property to my house.

Of course, it's a lovely evening.

Well, gentlemen, we can, um,

pick up where we left off some other time.

Reba.

Well, she's treating him like he...

I'll be a...

Kelly, what's been going on here?

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

Just left.

What's your big hurry, Mr. Malone?

Bascom... Carl Bascom.

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

Well, if you're figuring

on surprising Reba with that bad news,

she just walked out of here with that man.

- What?! - I just found him in here alone

just before she showed up.

I don't know what he was doing here.

- He was here alone? - Yeah.

Kelly, do you mind if we check inside,

see if anything's been disturbed or taken?

No. Come on.

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

Nothing disturbed around here that I can see.

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

I wonder.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Bascom has finished checking the vault, sir.

Thank you, Kinder.

I hope you found everything in order.

Oh, old bills and insurance stuff

still in there, just the way I left them.

Why, I still have a $72.00 balance, they tell me.

It's no business of the bank where old customers go

or what they leave behind, long as the charges are paid.

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

Now, one of these days, real soon now,

we'll have to sit down, you and I, and have a good talk.

I'll be in the market for some properties,

investments, that sort of thing.

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

We try to be of service.

All right, take care of yourself now.

Mm-hmm.

We'll be talking.

Why, they're lovely, Mrs. Munger!

Absolutely... lovely.

A good day to you.

Good day.

Oh, there was a big fuss, all right.

Torchlight parades,

threats of the men that Bascom had fired

pulling a sit-down strike at the mines.

Man, this whole town was up in arms.

No wonder this guy Bascom was so unpopular.

Here's mud in your eye, friend.

After he closed down the mines, what happened?

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

Was that about the same time

that Jim Burgess had his heart attack?

Well, it was the day before, as I remember it.

Well, let me see.

It was a Friday or a Saturday.

Wait a minute.

Hey, Carl?

Hi. Hello, Pete.

What's on your mind?

Carl old friend, uh... Hmm?

Was it Friday night, or a Saturday night

that, uh, Jim Burgess died?

Uh. Well, search me.

I wasn't here.

Uh...

Carl who?

Bascom.

Hey, well, Burgess' Chief of Police.

How are you, Polek?

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

Oh, you mind if I join you?

Free country.

Hey, that-that stranger, uh, sitting next to Reelin Pete...

Uh, don't happen to know who he is, huh?

Name's Paul Drake. Private detective.

Detective?

Yeah. Why?

Oh. Oh, it's not important.

Got it from his car license.

Pretty easy to spot a bird like that

snooping around town.

Worked for some big time L.A. lawyer.

Mrs. Burgess' lawyer.

Name of, uh, Perry Mason. Know him?

Oh, no, no, I-I don't know him.

Want a drink?

Oh. Oh, some other time, yeah.

Excuse me.

Yeah, that's right.

I mean, now there's a-a lawyer and a detective involved in it,

and I-I'm not gonna stand still for it, you hear me?

Look, I'm not gonna stand still for it!

I guess you knew Jim Burgess keeled over with a heart attack.

Apparently, Carl Bascom left town the day before.

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

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

Evidently, Bascom was pretty flush when he arrived there.

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

and now he's pretty close to being broke.

Well, stay on it. Let me know if...

I sure will, Dorothy, only, uh, later, okay?

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

Hello. This is Paul Drake.

I wonder if you could tell me, please,

who just moved into room 24?

Carl Bascom.

Thank you very much.

Mr. Malone?

Can I see you for a moment?

Well, well, back so soon, Bascom?

I'd like to get back into the safety deposit box again,

if-if you don't mind.

I'm rather in a hurry.

- Of course. - Yeah.

Uh, sign the slip?

Oh.

Mr. Malone?

Yes, uh, Jenkins?

One of the customers is raising a fuss

about the charges for some checks.

He just insists on seeing you, sir.

I'll be right over.

Thank you. Thank you, sir.

Excuse me.

Kinder?

Yes, sir.

I want you to let Bascom into the vault into his own box.

And make sure that he isn't disturbed.

What?

I don't want anybody or anything to disturb him

until he finishes his work and has come outside.

Understand?

Yes, sir.

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

Uh, Bascom gone?

Yes, sir. He left several minutes ago.

Emptied his box, apparently.

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

About what?

Well, when Mr. Bascom left the vault,

and I went in to lock his box,

I stopped and talked to Mrs. Munger for a minute.

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

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

My desk?

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

I closed it.

Of course, none of the keys were missing.

Nellie?

Get Reba Burgess on the telephone. Hurry.

I couldn't find Reba, Mr. Malone.

She just took off someplace.

But here, is this what you want?

Yes. Thanks, Pete.

Uh, I'll get it back to her.

Kinder?

Yes, sir.

Uh, go out and find Chief of Police Polek for me.

Pol-Polek?

Yes, bring him back here. Fast.

- Hurry. - Yes, sir.

Kinder said it's important. What's up?

Why, nothing. Nothing at all.

- But... But you said... - Never mind what I said.

It was a mistake, a misunderstanding.

And that's all?

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

If you'll excuse me.

I knocked.

Yeah.

And the door just happened to open.

Hello. Yeah?

I'll be right down.

Get the car ready.

Someone gave Bascom a lift out to the Burgess mine

about an hour ago.

We might as well do our talking in the car on the way. Let's go.

That's Bascom, all right.

He must have fallen into the sluice and drowned.

Well, drowned or no, he's dead.

Hi, Perry. Welcome to Burgess.

Hello, Paul.

Thought maybe you'd have gone straight out to see Reba.

Oh, at 3:30 in the morning, I find it isn't so easy

to rent a car in this place.

Besides, I wanted to find out what you have first.

Well, let's see.

Inside the late Mr. Bascom's pocket

was discovered a wet leather pouch,

four by eight inches in size.

A diamond pouch, perhaps?

Mm-hmm.

And, uh, inside?

We haven't finished outside yet.

The wet leather pouch was neatly and prettily tied

with an equally wet ribbon.

Ribbon?

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

well-known client uses to tie pretty little bows

on a shoe box she keeps in a bank vault.

Inside the pouch, Paul?

Nothing. Well, practically nothing.

Just traces of a sticky, syrupy substance

my informant assures me was sweet as sugar.

Have the authorities decided

whether Bascom's death was accidental, or suicidal, or...?

Homicidal.

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

Bascom was shot, and then dumped in the sluice.

I hesitate to ask if there's something more.

There is.

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

Past time to open the doors.

Wait till Mr. Malone comes out.

He and Mrs. Burgess are in the vault,

checking over her safe deposit box.

I always thought Bascom would end up dead someday.

No good. Never was.

But he was always so polite to me.

Ha! Ha. Let me tell you.

Did you want to see me, Mr. Jenkins, Mrs. Munger?

Oh. It's past opening. Shall I have Murphy unlock?

In just a moment.

Are those reports finished, Mrs. Munger?

Almost, sir.

Are your diamonds secure, Mrs. Burgess?

Why shouldn't they be?

Of course, you'd know if somebody tampered

with the ribbons on that shoe box, wouldn't you?

Oh, yes, yes, I'd notice.

I guess, actually, there really isn't any reason

why you shouldn't return to Los Angeles now,

is there, Mr. Mason?

Apparently, you wish I would.

Oh, no. No, I... I merely thought...

Like I said, Mr. Mason, thanks for coming.

But just because someone takes my gun

and shoots somebody with it doesn't mean

that, uh, I need a lawyer hanging around to say

it wasn't me.

Reba's never had any trouble

standing up for herself, Mr. Mason.

Besides, that stupid Bascom getting himself killed

has solved all my financial problems.

Yes, I agree, if you feel paying Bascom's earnings to his heirs

is preferable to paying him.

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

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

Suppose there are heirs, what then?

Under the partnership agreement

they have the same right as Mrs. Burgess.

They could sue for half the business,

even force liquidation.

Well, there must be some other way.

If there are heirs.

That's right, Mr. Malone.

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

if necessary.

- Buy out with what? - Reba.

With your fortune in diamonds.

I assume that two keys are required

to open your bank's safety deposit boxes.

One bank key, and one customer's key.

That's just it. They were sure that...

Bascom was in the mine shack that night, searching the place.

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

What else did you hear Mr. Malone say?

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

There was wax on it, Mr. Malone said,

like somebody had taken an impression.

You know, to have a duplicate made.

That's very interesting, Mr. Kinder.

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

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

and talking to you.

At least not to Mr. Malone.

I, uh, I don't think he'd understand it.

No, perhaps he wouldn't.

Well, bye, Mr. Kinder, and thank you.

Sure, sure.

Well, the bill's paid, and I just checked you out,

but you've only got about 15 minutes to catch the plane.

- Well, cancel it. - Huh?

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

But why? If Reba Burgess insists

she won't let you represent her?

Well, I can still give her some free advice.

Mrs. Burgess, I'm sorry that my attitude

seems to annoy you.

Believe me, I'm...

not trying to press my services.

It's nothing personal, Mr. Mason.

It's just that I just don't need a lawyer right now, that's all.

Mrs. Burgess...

Reba excuse me for butting in.

And as for you, Chief Polek,

I'm think I've given you

all the information and help that I possibly can.

I'm sorry, ma'am,

but I have a warrant here ordering your arrest

for the murder of Carl Bascom.

Comparison tests proved the bullet that killed Carl Bascom

was fired from that pistol.

The pistol registered to the defendant, Reba Burgess.

Sergeant,

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

Objection, Your Honor. Murder has not been established.

Well, then, on the night Bascom was killed.

Same objection, Your Honor.

Carl Bascom's death could've been accidental or suicidal.

All right!

All right. On the night that Bascom...

Now, Mr. Clark,

will you permit me time to rule on Mr. Mason's objections?

Sorry, Your Honor.

Sustained.

On the night that Carl Bascom...

died... where was this gun found?

I found the gun

at the foot of the Burgess Mining Company's

number two sluice.

It was buried in about three feet of tailings,

concealed under a muddy refuse

that wouldn't ordinarily be touched again.

Yes, Mrs. Burgess showed me a copy

of the partnership agreement that Bascom had given her.

She wanted me to check her figures

on how much was involved,

how much she might be liable for,

what Bascom's share would be worth,

in other words, if the partnership were valid.

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

Yes, I told her, a half interest.

A legitimate half interest...

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

What was the defendant's reaction to all this?

She was upset.

Upset, Mr. Kelly?

You've got to understand.

For a long time, the Burgess Mining Company

didn't seem to exist for anything

but to pay for Jim Burgess traipsing around the world.

Things just kept running downhill.

When Bascom shut down the company for Burgess,

he claimed it was either that,

or eat up every bit of the outfit's reserve.

But then...

after Burgess died, his widow took over?

Yes, she took over the company,

got it operating the way it should have done,

but never had.

I guess, in a way,

it was sort of a substitute

for losing her husband, her whole life.

And then Carl Bascom reappeared

threatening that life?

As a partner, Bascom could exercise his right

to a cash buyout of his interest.

It would've been the end of the company,

at least as far as Mrs. Burgess was concerned.

Was that the only way that she could have

bought Bascom out? With company money?

No, I explained to her,

she could have made a deal with Bascom...

given him some of that million dollars in diamonds

she had in the vault, and maybe...

Thank you, Mr. Kelly.

Your witness, Mr. Mason.

I understand, Mr. Kelly,

that you operate the mining company for Mrs. Burgess?

Under her direction, yes.

Including the supervision of the company's books and records?

Yes, sir.

Did you also supervise the books and records

when the decedent, Carl Bascom, was in charge of the company,

on those occasions

when the Burgesses were traveling?

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

Then you wouldn't know, personally,

whether there had ever been a record of the partnership

between Bascom and Mr. Burgess?

I doubt if anyone will ever know that.

Why not, Mr. Kelly?

We had a fire in the office one night.

When was that?

Couple of days after Mr. Burgess died.

Were the records destroyed?

Some were.

I imagine that made

operating the company even more difficult.

I don't know how she did it,

Mrs. Burgess personally reorganized everything,

got me in to help her as Superintendent,

and things have been running like clockwork ever since.

Couldn't Carl Bascom have helped in recreating

the missing records?

No, he left town. Left the country, I guess,

- the day before Jim's death. - When when was the first time

you saw Bascom after he returned?

Down at the mine shack,

when he claimed he was waiting to meet Mrs. Burgess.

Why do you say "claimed," Mr. Kelly?

From what I saw,

from what Reelin Pete and I both saw,

I had a feeling maybe...

Bascom was looking for something.

Objection, Your Honor!

Counsel is eliciting nothing but opinions and conclusions

from this witness!

Sustained.

I have no further questions.

Mr. Clark?

No redirect. I call Reelin...

Mr. Peter Bridewell to the stand.

Sure, sure. He made out like he was waiting for Reba,

but mark my words, mister, Kelly was right.

Bascom was looking for something in that shack.

That wasn't my question.

I guess, I...

did forget what it was you did ask me.

I asked you whether you knew for a fact

that the defendant, Reba Burgess,

had made an appointment to meet the decedent,

Carl Bascom, on the night in question?

Yes, yes, she said she was supposed to meet him...

All right. All right.

Now she said it, and he said it.

The two of them met, they left the shack together,

headed for her house, talking,

but you are still skeptical?

Well, I don't know whether I'm what you said I was,

"skeptical," or not, but I sure doubt it.

But she did keep her appointment to see Carl Bascom?

But it don't make sense.

Ever since that man came back into this town,

Reba, she's been different.

And Bascom?

When he walked out of that shack with her,

he looked like he owned the whole world, and Reba Burgess.

I wanted to jam my fist down his throat!

But you didn't?

No, but I fixed him anyway.

Bascom came into the bar

where I was talking to that detective fellow, Paul Drake.

I called Bascom over, I asked him a question.

Man...

like he'd seen a ghost, that Bascom.

He scooted away from us scared as anything.

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

When Carl Bascom hurried out of the bank that last time

he was a frightened man.

Mr. Kinder, from your position,

aside from the decedent,

did you see anyone else go into the vault

while the decedent was there?

No, sir, he was alone.

As a matter of fact,

Carl Bascom was the last customer

to enter the vault between then

and the time we locked it up for the day.

And were you present on a later day

when Mrs. Burgess's safe deposit box was opened

pursuant to a court order?

Yes, sir, I was.

Would you tell the court

exactly what you witnessed

at the time that box was officially opened?

Well, Mrs. Burgess' old shoe box was still there,

but the sealed ribbon that secured it

had been torn away,

and the box was completely empty.

We have heard testimony suggesting

that a duplicate of Mrs. Burgess' safe deposit key

might have been made from a wax impression.

Now you said...

that Bascom was in that vault alone,

on the afternoon preceding his murder?

Yes, sir.

Would you say that he was in there long enough

to have opened and emptied not only his own safety deposit box,

but Mrs. Burgess's, as well?

Now, understand, Mr. Kinder,

I am not asking you to testify

this is what happened,

only whether or not he was in there long enough

to have done such a series of acts.

Mr. Mason,

do you wish to object to the question in its present form?

An obviously loaded hypothetical question?

I'm sure Your Honor will give such testimony

the probative weight it deserves.

No, the witness may answer the question as stated.

All right, Mr. Kinder.

Mr. Bascom was in there long enough

to have emptied both safe deposit boxes.

Thank you, Mr. Kinder.

Your witness.

Did you tell anyone that you suspected Bascom of theft?

I told you.

No one else?

Well, a few minutes after Bascom left the bank,

Reba Burgess phoned

about something else, and... Well, I...

Yes, I told Mrs. Burgess.

Finding out that Drake

was a detective who worked for Mrs. Burgess' lawyer

scared Bascom.

No question of it.

From then on, I kept a pretty close watch.

Bascom was getting more and more jumpy.

Finally he made a plane reservation

back to South America, as we can show.

Also he bought a briefcase with a lock on it.

Obviously he needed something safe

to carry the diamonds in, so...

Just tell us what the police actually know

about that briefcase.

Well, later,

at the hotel, a bellboy saw Bascom

close and lock all his bags.

Then Bascom left.

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

Instead, he came running down to the lobby, all excited,

wanting to know who had been to his room,

and who had tampered with his briefcase.

Then he ran out of the hotel,

and tore off in the direction of the mine.

Who had been to his room?

In the half hour that Bascom was gone,

someone claiming to have an appointment with Bascom,

someone highly respected in this town,

was given a key to his room, to wait for him there.

A few minutes later, this person came down,

returned the key, and left.

And who was that person?

Reba Burgess.

I was a young anthropologist just out of college.

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

It was shortly after that

that I met and married Jim.

He wasn't the least bit interested

in the value of the diamonds,

only in the fact that I had found them.

My husband was the most amazing man.

He risked his life in the wildest parts of the world

to find things no one else had found.

In the Mato Grosso,

he found a river bed with gold nuggets

as big as golf balls exposed in the gravel.

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

But he wouldn't stoop?

Can you understand a man like that?

A man whose only satisfaction was not in having,

merely in finding something?

We were always away on trips.

Carl Bascom kept writing, warning Jim

that the mining company was in trouble.

And Jim finally listened when he said

that the government was about to become involved.

Government?

After we got back to town that last time,

Bascom showed Jim where the accounts were mixed up.

Where $75,000 in tax funds, marked paid,

had never been received by the government.

That's a prison offense.

Yes. Jim was all upset, naturally.

He hadn't been well, but he did tell me

that Bascom was helping him with a plan to fix everything.

I never did find out what it was,

because I had to go to San Francisco for a few days.

And when I got back,

Bascom had already walked out and left Jim.

When I got to the office,

I found Jim dead from a heart attack.

Your company records don't show

a tax delinquency.

No. Nor how Jim juggled the accounts,

how he desperately tried to cover up his mistakes,

only making things worse than they were.

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

The little fire in the office?

I fixed what I could in the books,

and what I couldn't fix, I burned.

Look, everything was in such a mess.

How did you get the company going?

I mean, the tax funds alone... $75,000.

Your diamonds?

Ten pouches.

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

That's where the tax money came from.

Where the rest of the money came from...

Took over nine pouches quietly disposed of,

before the company was in the black.

But all that publicity of yours.

The million dollars’ worth of diamonds in the shoe box.

Made good Sunday supplement reading,

and helped establish my personal credit at the bank.

But I saw the pictures... You, the shoe box,

the open pouch of diamonds.

Remember the pouch found on Bascom's body?

No diamonds, but a sweet, sticky residue.

Here. Look in the bag.

Rock candy.

Just crystallized sugar.

Go on, Reba.

When did you take the tenth pouch?

A few days ago.

When Bascom showed up, saying he needed money.

After I saw the partnership agreement,

I realized it wasn't nearly enough.

But then, Bascom got very nervous.

Finally, the day before he was killed,

he said he'd settle for less than $100,000.

Did you pay him?

No. I was going to.

I raised the cash, but I never saw him again.

What about the diamond pouch

that was found in his pocket?

It was the last one.

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

Bascom must have found it

while he was waiting for me in the shack

the night he was killed, because...

it wasn't there when I looked later.

You also looked in his luggage

at the hotel for the other nine pouches.

Now, you knew they were empty.

Why did you risk going to Bascom's room?

I had to... because of the bank.

Over a period of time,

Mal Malone's bank has made me loans for my payroll.

Made me loans on fraudulent security.

Mal Malone.

The one man that I wanted to hurt the least,

I hurt the most.

Oh, what have I done to him?

I wonder what he's done to you.

Well, let me think.

When Kinder got back to the bank with the Chief of Police,

I had already opened Reba Burgess's

safety deposit box in the vault.

And found?

An empty shoe box.

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

Well, I can't be sure.

I... I'd been called out of the bank for ten,

15, possibly as long as 20 minutes.

Thank you.

No further questions.

Mr. Malone,

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

Now, the, uh, Chief of Police was there,

but you didn't report the theft to him?

No, sir, I didn't.

Mr. Malone, the partnership agreement

between Jim Burgess and Bascom

contained a standard clause providing

that conviction for a felony

of either partner would dissolve the partnership,

and all rights of the convicted partner would

revert to the other.

Now, uh... you know of that clause?

Mrs. Burgess had showed it to me, yes.

Now, Mr. Malone, tell us truthfully

why you negligently make it easy for Bascom to take the key

to Mrs. Burgess's safety deposit box.

Were you hoping Bascom would be caught

with the contents?

Be charged with a felony, in other words?

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

Did you hope he'd be blamed

for what you already knew was missing

from that box?

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

Yes, of course, you do.

As a banking official involved in occasional loans

to Mrs. Burgess, you could scarcely admit to knowledge

of the true value of her security,

now, could you? Why did you change your mind?

When you opened the box that day,

did you find something you didn't expect?

What?

Perhaps a note warning that if the theft were reported,

the ancient truth

about Jim Burgess would be made public?

What? What ancient truth?

I knew Jim Burgess. He was an honest man.

Isn't it possible that Burgess was once tricked

into thinking he was responsible

for his company's financial troubles?

Perhaps even tricked into forming a partnership

with a man who offered to alleviate those troubles?

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

even capable of using company money as his own?

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

but I never really knew what actually happened

between Jim and Carl Bascom.

Because it was then

that Burgess died, and Bascom left for South America.

Well, the other way around.

Bascom, uh, left...

It was the day before Jim died.

Are you sure?

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

I... don't really...

Mr. Malone, haven't you wondered

about Bascom's strange behavior since then?

Staying so long in South America

when elsewhere he had a valid partnership agreement

worth a million dollars?

Elsewhere?

Then he returned

to attract everyone's attention by his extreme nervousness.

His fear of investigators.

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

to sell that partnership

for less than a $100,000?

No. No, I can't.

Is there an explanation for his behavior?

Unless he did not leave the day before Jim Burgess died.

Unless Jim Burgess had discovered something

that resulted in a fight and his heart attack.

A death which the courts and Bascom could look upon

only as murder.

Now...

perhaps you can't answer that, Mr. Malone.

But you can tell us, from your own memory,

of those days when you last saw Mr. Bascom.

Oh. Well, uh, that was the day before Jim died.

Like I told you, Mr. Mason,

Bascom came into the bank all excited

and, uh, had something to put in the safety deposit box.

Something for which he never came back?

Yes.

Did you ever see that something?

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

Approximately the size of the partnership agreement?

Yes, it could have been.

He merely put the folded paper into his safety deposit box?

No. He asked for a-a bank envelope,

signed his name to it, and then...

When was the next time Carl Bascom came into your bank

to go into his safety deposit box?

Just a few days ago.

And that was after he'd shown

Reba Burgess the partnership agreement?

After she had shown it to you?

Yes.

In that bank envelope

with Carl Bascom's name handwritten

on the outside?

But... but that's... that's... Impossible?

Yes, Mr. Malone, that's impossible.

Unless someone else took that agreement

from the bank vault for him.

Unless Bascom had an accomplice.

Someone who persuaded Bascom to return,

persuaded him that it was now safe to return.

But the bank vault.

That agreement was in... - Oh, yes.

Bascom's accomplice had to be a man with access to the

safety deposit boxes at your bank.

But I'm the only one with that authority...

Oh, no, I didn't do it.

Look here, Mason.

Perhaps Bascom's accomplice never realized

how frightened Bascom was about Jim Burgess's death.

Never realized how quickly Bascom might panic.

But he must have realized it

when that telephone call came from the bank in Sacramento.

The what?!

The bank to which Reba Burgess quietly went

to raise money for Bascom's payoff.

Now, I have a deposition stating that they called

to verify her credit.

Called your bank, Mr. Malone.

But I never talked to them.

I never talked to them!

No, of course you didn't.

But Mr. Kinder did.

Mr. Kinder, who illegally opened the safety deposit box,

found that agreement and brought Bascom back.

But you never completely trusted him

to share his gains with you, now, did you Mr. Kinder?

I... I took the wax impression

when I returned Mrs. Burgess's key,

just to be safe.

To be safe.

To be sure.

Well, I was sure, all right.

Carl Bascom didn't empty that shoe box.

I did.

After he left the vault.

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

I took those pouches, and he was gonna get blamed.

But then... later, I opened the pouches,

and then I found him at the mine.

Even after... I took the gun from the desk,

and pointed it at him,

even then, he wouldn't tell me where the real diamonds were.

It isn't fair.

There-There wasn't anything in those pouches but candy.

Just pieces of candy!

Mal... what happens now with your bank and me?

Nothing.

Well, won't you be in trouble?

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

Should I surrender myself,

and admit to everyone that I lied about...?

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

I say she surrenders.

Della?

Right away.

That makes it unanimous.

Reba Burgess, we hereby order you

to surrender yourself at once to Mal Malone.

What?

Do you think for one moment that I'd allow my bank

to become involved with any kind of loans to you

when you had no collateral?

But, I... I did get the loans.

My diamonds were the security.

Excuse me, but we have some packing to do.

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

Bye, Reba.

Good-bye.

Bye.

Mal, don't tease me.

Oh, for Pete's sake, Reba.

I knew all about that rock candy in the shoe box

right from the start.

But the loans you kept arranging for me.

Well, I'm not exactly a poor man, you know.

I... I, uh,

merely arranged for the collateral

personally, that's all.

Now, don't look at me that way.

You wanted to keep a secret,

and the least thing I could do was...

Oh, Reba, for Pete's sake.

Mal.