All language subtitles for Perry Mason S08E10 The Case of the Reckless Rockhound.DVDRip.NonHI.en.CBS

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.