Original subtitles

All right, one final run-through without details.

Caleb Stone the First.

Patent medicine king.

Died 1957, age 88.

Only you don't know he's dead, Brooks.

Don't forget that.

Great-Aunt Sophia, age 72.

Great-Aunt Nineveh, age 70.

Leonard, the houseman, the family chauffeur.

Maureen Kelly and the so-called Caleb Stone IV.

Picture taken 1946 in the Stone mansion library.

All right, turn on the light.

Now the interior of the house.

Where's the library?

To the left, off the entrance hallway.

An elk's head over the stone fireplace.

Gun racks on the wall.

On the floor, a bearskin with a bullet hole in its skull.

Now, there it is.

The old Caleb Stone mansion.

Pretty impressive, huh?

That and all the money we'll ever need, Brooks,

provided you play the cards I've given you correctly.

Good luck.

No peeking, Nineveh.

Who's peeking?

Well, maybe I was... just a little.

I'll draw from you, dear.

Goodness, I should have taken the other one.

You should have, indeed.

Game.

Fives, queens, eights.

How many?

17.

Wasn't that the doorbell, Sophia?

Well, it certainly wasn't the air raid alarm, dear.

Who could it be at this time of night?

It's almost 10:00.

Well, Leonard will let us know if it's anyone important.

17, you said?

Let me see.

I thought so.

28,

which means that you now owe me 65 cents.

Sophia, after 60 years,

I'm beginning to believe you're a cardsharp.

Nonsense.

It's just that you didn't inherit the Stone family brains.

Yes, Leonard?

A man who says he has news of...

of young Caleb.

- Young...? - Young Caleb?

Come in, young man. Come in.

What is this news you have for us?

I shouldn't have come this late,

but I may be shipping out tomorrow,

so I took the chance that you'd still be up.

But... but you're Caleb.

Oh, yes, you've come back.

Please, Miss Nineveh.

I'm not Caleb.

Only a friend of his.

John Brooks.

A friend?

But you look just the way I imagined.

Nonsense.

He doesn't resemble Caleb in the least.

How did you know her name was Nineveh?

Well, I guess because

Caleb told me about you both so many times...

before he died.

Died?

Caleb's dead?

Dead when?

Two years ago.

Of typhoid in a hospital in Shanghai.

Red China?

What was he doing there?

We were deckhands on a Canadian freighter delivering grain.

This is the first time I've been on the West Coast since then.

I could have written,

but I didn't know if you wanted to know about him

or see the things that he left with me.

Things? What things?

A locket containing a photograph

of the man he said was his father.

Caleb Ill.

In his Air Force uniform.

This must have been taken just before...

his plane was lost.

His birth certificate.

A marriage certificate.

Caleb Stone Ill and Maureen Kelly.

You knew, of course,

that she was a housemaid here,

and that the marriage was declared void.

Yes, I knew.

After the funeral expenses,

there was $37 left.

You'd better count it.

Sophia, look.

What are you doing, Mr. Brooks?

Doing?

Oh, the bullet hole.

I wanted to see if it was still there

as Caleb remembered.

He used to touch the bear's head just that way.

Are you absolutely sure you're not Caleb?

Nineveh!

You must have been very close to Caleb, Mr. Brooks,

for him to have told you

things like bullet holes in bearskin rugs.

We grew up together, Miss Sophia.

You were with him in St. Mary's Orphanage?

I was there when he came.

We were both about six at the time,

so, naturally, we became, well, almost like brothers.

And then at 16, he decided to run away to sea.

And I ran away, too.

Well, I must be going.

It's a long haul back to the harbor, so...

Oh, well, you mustn't go.

Not until we've heard everything about Caleb.

Won't you stay here tonight?

You can sleep in his room.

Nineveh!

Don't shake your head at me, Sophia.

Half this house happens to be mine.

I'm sure you must be hungry.

Little Caleb always was.

Leonard, find something for Mr. Brooks to eat

and something for him to...

I've heard that sailors drink rum,

but I'm afraid all we have is sherry.

Sherry will be fine, Miss Nineveh.

Oh, good.

Show Mr. Brooks where he can wash up, Leonard,

and then bring a tray in here.

If you'll come this way, sir.

Nineveh, you are a complete and utter idiot.

I won't sleep a wink tonight.

Why, he could be anything.

A confidence man, a thief, an imposter.

But, Sophia, dear, he said he wasn't Caleb,

so how could he be an imposter?

I must see if there's any of that Queen Victoria sherry left

that Father was so fond of.

Irene, it's early.

You can still be out with perfect propriety.

So why answer?

If it's Ernest, he'll ring every ten minutes

the rest of the night.

Yes?

Who is this?

Oh, Sophia, I didn't recognize your voice.

No, Ernest isn't here.

He's in Ithaca, New York.

The National Trapshooting Contest.

Said he died where?

Isn't it a bit risky letting the young man stay?

Insists? Why?

Yes, I'll tell Ernest when he calls

and have him call you.

No, you didn't, dear.

I was just reading...

and listening to some music.

Good night, dear.

Who was that?

One of Ernest's aunts.

Ah, pixilated Stone sisters, huh?

That was Sophia.

And Nineveh seems to be the one that's pixilated at the moment.

Oh?

She thinks some mysterious young man

who appeared on their doorstep tonight

might be Caleb Stone IV.

Not the patent medicine baby

there was all that hullabaloo about after the war?

I heard the mother died after the marriage was proved a fraud.

She did, but, Wayne,

that wouldn't prevent the little boy from growing up.

They've asked him to stay?

Well, the pixilated one has.

Ernest isn't going to like this.

A new claimant to the Stone millions.

Ernest will take care of him when he comes home.

No, I will.

As your family lawyer,

I'm the one who takes care of things for Ernest.

Hadn't you heard?

♪♪

You finished, Mr. Brooks?

Yes, thank you.

I've just been on the phone with my nephew's house.

That's Ernest Stone.

He'll be here sometime tomorrow to talk to you.

He's off hunting somewhere?

Hunting?

Caleb told me he's an expert with a shotgun.

Yes, he is.

Are you sure you want to stay, Mr. Brooks?

If you'd prefer, I'll go.

No.

That would disappoint Nineveh.

I imagine she has Caleb's room ready by now.

I'll have Leonard show you up.

Don't bother.

Last room to the left

at the head of the big stairway?

Good night, Miss Sophia.

I think you'll find everything you need, Mr. Brooks.

Uh, pajamas, robe and slippers,

and in the bathroom, toilet articles.

I, uh, trust you'll be comfortable.

I'm sure I will.

Mr. Brooks?

Yes?

They killed her with their persecution

just as surely as if they had killed her with a gun.

Killed who?

The little boy's mother, Maureen.

They said she lied, but they did.

Old Mr. Stone and the others, they lied.

Is Mr. Brooks in there, Leonard?

Yes, Miss Nineveh.

I suppose you think I'm a silly old woman,

but I always brought little Caleb

a hot water bottle at night.

The bed being so... big and cold.

You always brought a glass of warm milk, too.

Yes, I did.

What are you looking for?

Lions, tigers, elephants.

What's become of them?

Changed the wallpaper.

And the hook over the bed?

It's gone, too.

Hook?

Where the parakeet cage used to hang.

The birthday parakeet that you taught to say "Caleb."

Don't you remember?

Oh, yes.

I remember, Caleb, darling.

I remember.

A very considerable amount of money is involved.

You've known this young man less than 24 hours.

Don't you think he should be investigated first?

Mr. Mason, I know here he's Caleb,

the little Caleb I loved so dearly.

I don't care whether he calls himself John Brooks

or Ezra Snodgrass.

I want my money to go to him.

As your attorney, Miss Nineveh, I must tell you

I believe that you're acting precipitantly and unwisely.

I know,

and I know you're trying to look out for me,

but I have made up my mind.

And if you won't change my will,

I'll just have to find another lawyer.

All right, Miss Stone.

You'll do it today?

I'll try.

Oh, you must do much more than try.

I want this settled at once.

Good day, Miss Street.

Good-bye, Miss Stone.

Well, Della, it looks as though we have no choice

but to draw up a new will.

Poor thing is obviously being victimized.

And if it is a confidence game,

it's as nearly foolproof as any I've ever heard of.

Imposters have preyed on little old ladies before.

But he isn't saying he's Caleb Stone IV.

In fact, he's saying he isn't.

That's the rub.

What can you do?

Well, there's nothing to prevent us

from investigating this John Brooks on our own.

And you have one ally, at least,

in Great-Aunt Sophia.

Yes, obviously, she wants

no part of this young man.

Miss Stone gone?

Leaving us in even more of a rush than before.

Let's have your highlights.

Well, this is going to come out a little jumbled.

Genealogy first.

Old Caleb Stone, the patent medicine king,

had four children:

Caleb Il, Sophia, Nineveh and Samuel,

who died in World War I, leaving a son, Ernest, now 47.

And Caleb Il?

Survived by Caleb Ill,

one of our three main characters,

along with Maureen Kelly, the Stone housemaid,

and her patent medicine baby.

Patent medicine baby?

I'll come to that.

Late in '41,

Caleb Ill was commissioned lieutenant in the Air Corps

and sent to a base near Charleston, South Carolina.

A few days before he was to fly overseas, Maureen joined him.

According to her,

they were married the night before he took off on a plane

that went down somewhere over the Atlantic.

Why do you say, "according to her," Paul?

Wasn't there a marriage certificate?

There was, which made her

and the baby that followed and was named Caleb IV

members of the family.

Until 1946, when the roof fell in.

The roof fell in?

How?

Through an investigation

started by old patent medicine king Caleb himself,

and a crotchety old goat of 80,

which proved that their certificate was a forgery.

Well, what happened then?

A real beaut of a court battle.

It all added up with a little boy,

nicknamed the Patent Medicine Baby by the press,

being declared illegitimate.

Poor little fella... It was none of his doing.

Yes, Gertie?

Mother and child were allowed to leave the state.

She died in Charleston a year later,

back where it all started.

Miss Stone's back.

Have her come in.

The boy was put into a Catholic institution there.

Quite a change...

Heir to millions, then a penniless orphan.

Mr. Mason, I want something done

without an argument, done at once.

I want my will changed so that my money goes

to a young man named John Brooks.

Good evening, sir.

I'll tell Miss Sophia and Miss Nineveh you're here, sir.

Thank you.

Mr. Mason.

I'm Irene Stone.

Yes, I know your husband.

Who's on his way from the airport now

with Wayne Jameson, his attorney.

Mr. Mason, are you actually drawing up

new wills for the two sisters?

Did they tell you I was?

Yes, and how can you?

Mr. Jameson says there's no possible doubt

that they're being deceived.

They don't seem to think so.

Don't you?

Wayne says, if this man were honest,

is really Caleb, he'd say so.

Evidently, all you're interested in is your fee.

Well, there won't be one, Mr. Mason.

- No? - No.

Because, for one thing,

Ernest isn't a doddering sentimental old lady.

And for another, he knew the little boy, too,

and no act or fancied resemblance

is going to fool him.

You must be the lawyer.

Care for some sherry?

Not right now, thank you, Mr. Brooks.

I suppose you've come to deliver a warning.

"Clear out, young man, before you land in jail."

Well, why should I?

I haven't done anything wrong, and I don't intend to.

Do you feel that making two elderly ladies

believe you are somebody you're not isn't doing wrong?

You've got it just backwards.

They're making me into something I'm not.

And I'm beginning to believe it's not such a bad idea.

Oh, it's a fine idea, providing it doesn't backfire.

Tell me, how did you win over Miss Sophia?

Once, to amuse little Caleb,

she taught him to dial the safe.

It was a secret between them.

And when she came in and found me opening it this morning,

she was won over, as you put it.

Either you're the most brazen scoundrel

I ever encountered or...

Or what, Mr. Mason?

Could it be that I'm about to win you over, too?

Oh, there you both are.

You've the documents, Mr. Mason?

Only the preliminary drafts, Miss Sophia.

There are a number of details to be worked out.

Oh, and we so hoped it would be all settled tonight.

Yes, tonight.

Why are you both in such a rush?

Wouldn't you be in a rush, Mr. Mason,

if, after 15 long years,

you had a chance to cleanse yourself of guilt?

Guilt?

Yes, guilt.

We want you to hear this, too, dear, so please stay.

We both loved little Caleb, loved him very much.

But after the trial,

we let him be cast out.

Because we hadn't the courage to defy Father.

And it was only after he died, when Caleb was 17...

That we tried to find him.

And by then, he'd vanished.

Now you understand why we're in a rush, Mr. Mason?

Yes.

But Mr. Brooks maintains he isn't Caleb.

Now, suppose this were definitely proven.

But we happen to know he is Caleb.

So, how could it be proven?

They're in the library.

Ernest, at last.

Aunt Sophia, Aunt...

Ernest, this is Mr. Brooks.

The Mr. Brooks.

I suppose you're a little big now

for that Shetland pony with the spotted left foreleg.

Spotted right foreleg, Mr. Stone.

Yes.

So it was.

And so it was... Caleb.

Even if he is Caleb, which I still doubt,

you could have kept your big mouth shut.

Now nothing... but nothing...

Can stop those two crazy old ladies

from willing him every penny they possess in the world.

And what pennies.

Two-thirds of the Stone estate,

millions that should be ours.

Why can't we fight him on the grounds that he's illegitimate?

We're not fighting him on any grounds, darling.

On the fringe of bankruptcy,

living from hand to mouth.

Every dollar you've inherited, gone,

and most of my money, too.

And you won't fight.

Irene, you're a very lovely woman

with, uh, just one fault.

You never seem to know when to mind your own business.

How can you sit there smirking

when you've just lost yourself not one,

but two inheritances?

I'll let you in on a little secret:

I haven't lost a thing.

My two esteemed aunts drew up wills years ago,

leaving everything to charity.

Then, all this time, you've been lying to me about inheriting.

How else could I have kept you from leaving me, darling?

Beginning to be afraid you might have missed the plane.

Well, it was only by the skin of my teeth I didn't.

You, uh, had some luck, then?

Yeah, but mostly bad.

In the first place, there's no possible way

of checking the Shanghai death records

short of sending a spy behind the Bamboo Curtain,

which is one assignment I'd just as soon pass up.

What about the Canadian freighter

that Brooks said he and Caleb were on at the time?

Well, I ran that one down.

The Saskatchewan Queen.

Company headquarters in Vancouver have

a John Brooks and a Caleb Stone listed as crew members

on a Red China trip in 1959,

with a notation that they both jumped ship in Shanghai.

Well, at least part of Brooks' story is true.

Only, which one died there?

Well, actually, Perry, what difference does it make?

Well, if the young man's Caleb,

he can wait indefinitely for his great-aunt's money.

But if he's John Brooks making them think he's Caleb,

he may decide before somebody proves he isn't

to hurry things up.

You mean, for Nineveh and Sophia,

a bathtub accident, a fall down stairs?

You actually think that's a possibility?

Yes.

Otherwise, I wouldn't have called

Lieutenant Anderson at Homicide,

nor would I have paid for two round-trip tickets

to Charleston, South Carolina.

Yeah, first class, too.

You must be worried.

♪♪

Sister Theresa?

Yes?

Two gentlemen who say they have an appointment to see you.

They say they talked to you on the telephone?

Yes, of course.

Show them in, please.

Mr. Mason?

Yes. This is Mr. Paul Drake.

- How do you do? - I'm Sister Theresa.

Won't you sit down, please?

Thank you.

I have the two boys' records here.

What did you want to know?

Well, everything you can tell us, Sister.

Uh, were you able to find any photographs?

We don't do much photography, Mr. Mason.

We feel, while they boys are here,

they're entitled to privacy.

Perhaps you feel our coming here is an invasion of privacy.

No, in view of what you've told me, I believe I'm justified

in giving you what information I can.

John Brooks, admitted July 23, 1942.

Doorstep baby, approximately five days old.

Parents unknown.

Where'd he get his name?

John? From Father John, who taught the boys carpentry,

and, uh, Brooks from an English poet, I believe.

As for Caleb, he already

had a name when his mother left him here

a few weeks before she died.

Admitted December 3, 1948, age six.

Two of my favorites.

Why did they run away?

Because of something cruel

and completely unnecessary that happened to Caleb.

A newspaper story entitled

"What Became of the Patent Medicine Baby?"

Locating him here,

and providing a lurid rehash of the whole case.

And his friend, John Brooks, vanished at the same time?

But they didn't quite vanish, Mr. Drake.

Christmas cards from both the boys.

'58, '59, Liverpool, Vancouver.

And then from John Brooks alone,

Hong Kong, Buenos Aires, Bombay.

The other man who was asking about them

said it was obvious they'd become sailors.

Other man?

When was this?

Several months ago.

He said he was a private detective,

tracing Caleb for some relatives.

Do you think they could've been the two great-aunts?

No, I don't think so.

Um, what was the man's name?

Oh, I don't recall that he told me.

Can you describe him, Sister?

Well-dressed, well-spoken.

I don't suppose you can recognize him from that.

No, but we'd like to see

if you recognize the man in this photograph.

Paul?

It was taken with a telephoto lens,

but it's still a good likeness.

My, how he's grown.

John Brooks, Sister?

Or Caleb Stone?

You say believing this boy is their own flesh and blood

has made the great-aunts happy?

Yes.

Then let them continue to believe, Mr. Mason.

Let them.

Caleb. Oh, I'm sorry, dear.

I meant John.

We thought, if you're going to read late,

perhaps you'd like some sandwiches.

- And... - No, now, let me tell him.

You spoke at lunch of an English ale you liked,

so we ordered some.

Is there anything else you'd like?

No. You've done far too much already.

Don't read too late, dear.

Remember, we're car shopping in the morning.

I've decided I don't really need a car.

If you're worried about the expense, it's nothing.

Compared to our joy of having you here with us.

- Good night. - Good night, dear.

Miss Sophia, Miss Nineveh.

There's something I... Yes, dear?

Good night.

Hello?

Yes, he's here.

Just a minute.

It's for you, Ernest.

Yes?

Can it wait till morning?

You're what?

Oh, no, you're not.

I'll be right over.

A friend, in trouble.

I'm afraid our game is over, Wayne.

Unless you want to play with Irene.

A tempting offer, but I think I'd better buzz off...

after I've finished my drink.

Well, I'll see you tomorrow.

Oh, uh, don't wait up for me.

This may take a little time.

All right, darling.

Wayne, that was John Brooks.

Brooks?

- Are you sure? - Yes.

And I'm also sure there's something strange going on.

I saw them talking yesterday in Ernest's car,

and now this.

Maybe they just took a liking to each other.

It didn't sound that way.

No, it didn't.

Aren't you going to finish your drink?

Drink? Oh, no, I've had enough.

I'll see what I can dig out of Ernest tomorrow.

You'll call me?

Don't I always?

♪♪

Oh, Mr. Ernest.

Where is he?

Mr. Brooks?

He was here.

I'll find him.

Close the doors, Brooks.

Now, what's all this nonsense about pulling out?

It isn't nonsense, Mr. Stone.

I am pulling out tonight.

Unless you get a bigger cut.

That's the next step, isn't it?

No, sir, I want out, period.

You mean that seriously?

But why?

You thought it was a great idea when I first got hold of you.

That was before I found out a few things about your aunts,

and about you, Mr. Stone.

A police lieutenant by the name of Anderson

was here this afternoon,

and he intimated he'd be very unhappy

if anything should happen to Miss Sophia or Miss Nineveh.

So what?

You're not going to harm them.

After they sign the wills,

all you have to do is just sit around and wait.

Yes, but the question is:

Will you just sit around and wait?

You think I might do something to them,

my own flesh and blood?

Didn't you do something to your own flesh and blood

just 15 years ago?

To little Caleb and to his mother?

What are you talking about?

One of the things I learned from Leonard, the houseman.

He believes you were responsible

for what happened to them.

He's insane.

Is he?

After he talked to me,

I went through old Mr. Stone's papers

and I found this.

A report that you sent him

in 1946 from South Carolina.

No record of marriage between Caleb Stone Ill

and Maureen Kelly

in the Bureau of Vital Statistics.

No memory on the part of the alleged justice of the peace

and the witnesses of ceremony performed.

And an affidavit declaring the marriage certificate

to be a forgery.

How much did all that cost, Mr. Stone?

Plenty, if you must know, but try and prove it.

Anyway, what do you care?

Your friend Caleb's dead.

I care about what happens to your aunts, even if you don't.

So I'm leaving,

and tomorrow, I'm writing everything down,

and I'm giving it to someone,

in case you get any more ideas, Mr. Stone.

Just a second.

Aren't you forgetting something?

That agreement you signed could land you in jail.

And you, too.

All right, then a bigger cut... 60-40.

50-50!

Get out of my way, Mr. Stone.

No, you're staying if I've got to knock your head off!

Are you all right, Mr. Stone?

I guess I...

What in the world are you doing, dear?

I'm leaving, Miss Nineveh.

It's an emergency.

But don't worry... I'll keep in touch.

Ernest is making you leave, isn't he?

I heard you quarreling.

Well, he can't.

I'll not let him.

Dear.

It's all right.

You don't have to go.

Ernest is dead.

Body found in the library,

shotgun apparently used as a club,

John Brooks held, first-degree murder.

Well, you sure were right in your forebodings,

only you got the wrong victim.

I most certainly did.

Ernest Stone must have gotten proof

that Brooks wasn't Caleb and confronted him with it.

- Mr. Mason! - You must help Caleb.

- He didn't kill Ernest. - I did.

No, dear, I did.

Well, one of us did, so you must help him.

Gradually, I realized what a cruel thing

it was to do to two such nice old ladies.

But then, when Mr. Stone first came to me,

all I could think about was the money.

Then this remembering things

that seemingly only Caleb could have remembered

was the result of his coaching?

Except for a few things

that Caleb told me when we were kids.

Why are they charging me with first-degree murder, Mr. Mason?

I didn't kill him intentionally.

The State is going to contend that you killed him

to keep the money for yourself.

It may even suggest that you

killed Caleb to initiate the plot.

But Caleb isn't dead.

I can call him and prove he...

Call him where, John?

Where?

I don't want to involve him in this.

Finding him will only bring

all that Patent Medicine Baby stuff

down on him again.

But he is alive?

No, Mr. Mason, not as far as I'm concerned.

All right, then.

We'll see you in court.

Paul, I'd like you to call Caleb Stone.

Call Caleb Stone? Where?

Try Information.

New York City first.

It may take a little time.

A little time.

Death resulted from a massive brain hemorrhage

caused by a violent blow on the base of his skull.

From my examination of the wound,

I'd say the blow was delivered by a cylindrical metal object.

A metal object...

Mr. Mason, the shotgun hit him on the temple,

not on the back of the head.

Yes, quite possibly.

Thank you, sir.

Mr. Mason?

Uh, Doctor, did your examination disclose evidence

of any other blows?

Well, a minor contusion on the left temple,

but there was no fracture.

I see.

Now, as to the fatal blow,

could a cylindrical metal object, such as a shotgun,

have been wielded with sufficient force

by a woman to have caused death?

Yes, most certainly.

Thank you, Doctor. That'll be all.

Witness may stand down.

Now, Lieutenant, what did you find,

in addition to the body and the shotgun,

there in the library?

An open wall safe,

a partially filled glass of sherry on a table,

and then on the body itself,

folded up in the wallet of the decedent,

we found that piece of paper, uh, that document.

Would you read this document aloud for us, please?

"July 15, 1963.

"I, John Brooks, hereby

"promise that whatever property and sums of money

"I inherit from Sophia Stone

"or Nineveh Stone, or both, I will divide with Ernest Stone

on a ratio of 80% for him and 20% for me."

It's signed, "John Brooks."

Indianapolis Information?

Uh, I'd like the telephone number of Caleb Stone, please.

No, I don't know the address.

No Caleb Stone?

Thank you very much.

No luck?

Nope. Uh, I'll shuffle off to Buffalo next,

and you try Salt Lake City.

Code number's 801.

Yes, I'm positive it was John Brooks who telephoned.

And what did your husband say to him, Mrs. Stone?

Well, something like, uh, "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

And then, "Oh, no, you're not.

I'll be right over."

And then he hung up and said for me not to wait up,

and then he left.

And never came back.

Mrs. Stone told me who it was,

and it was just enough of a mystery to cause me

to drive home by way of the Stone mansion.

And what did you see there?

Ernest, Mr. Stone, going into the house.

I said, "Ernest, are you dead?"

And when he didn't answer,

I ran out and told Caleb the good news.

The good news, Miss Stone?

It meant that Caleb could stay.

Mr. Mason?

Just one question, Miss Stone.

Did you kill Ernest?

Yes, I did.

Thank you.

Miss Stone, upon being told

of her legal and moral obligation

to testify truthfully,

your sister retracted her statement.

Now, you must tell the truth, too.

All right.

I didn't kill Ernest, either.

But neither did Caleb.

Miss Stone, do you mean that, in spite of the agreement

that was read here in this court,

you still believe John Brooks to be your nephew?

Of course.

And so does Nineveh.

When did you tell John Brooks

that Ernest Stone was responsible

for ruining Maureen Kelly's life?

The afternoon of the murder.

You had proof of this?

Knowing Maureen was proof enough.

She was a sweet, truthful girl,

incapable of deceiving anyone.

What made you select Ernest as the villain of the piece?

He was the only one who stood to gain.

Why did you tell all this to John Brooks?

Was it because you also believed he was Caleb?

Yes, Mr. Mason.

I did believe, and I still do believe he's Caleb,

come back to avenge his mother,

which he did.

I know, operator, but please keep on ringing.

Perry, we finally found Caleb Stone.

In Albany, New York.

How on Earth did you find...?

I finally got an answer from South Carolina.

What did Stone say?

Well, he said to call him back,

and he'd let me know what plane he was going to catch.

But it, uh, sounds like he didn't wait.

He was willing to help us, though?

He was bowled over by Brooks's trouble,

which he hadn't read about, and said he'd fly out here

before I even had a chance to ask him to.

Find out what plane he takes out of Albany,

then what connecting plane he catches for Los Angeles,

and meet him at the airport.

That'll probably be tomorrow morning.

Well, bring him straight to court if you have to.

Will do.

Della?

I think we may have a few rabbits

to pull out of a hat in court tomorrow.

Gentlemen, before we begin, I'd like to remind you,

this is a homicide hearing, rather than a genealogical one,

fascinating as that aspect of the case may be.

The State agrees completely, Your Honor.

I see Mr. Mason has reservations,

to which, of course, he's entitled.

May I have a moment, Your Honor?

Certainly.

Perry, I tried to phone you at the office, but you'd left.

It's Caleb Stone... He was picked up by the police

the minute he stepped off the plane, and, Perry, he's...

I know, Paul. I know.

Well, that was very considerate of you, Perry.

To find Caleb Stone ahead of the Albany Police.

Saves the State the expense of flying him out here.

Your Honor, as the State's first witness today,

I call Caleb Stone.

The color of a person's skin doesn't mean much

to six-year-olds.

So we became friends, Caleb and I.

Brothers, really.

So that when he ran away,

after the stories in the newspapers,

I ran away, too.

Once outside, we decided to exchange names.

Knowing that even though I called myself Caleb Stone,

nobody would ever accuse me of being the Patent Medicine Baby.

For a couple of years at sea, I took correspondence courses,

education courses, mostly,

'cause I wanted to help homeless kids like myself.

When I finished the courses, we were in Shanghai.

I decided to go back to the States,

but Caleb was afraid

that somebody might still be trying to... to trace him.

Some newspaper man, maybe.

So we agreed to say, if asked, that, uh, the white

Caleb Stone had died in Shanghai.

And you knew nothing of what was going on here?

Well, Caleb wrote me about a month ago.

He... he seemed kind of bitter.

He said that some relative of his

had come looking for him, but didn't recognize him,

so that now he had a chance to pay back

the Stone family, in part, for what they'd done to him

and his mother.

Did he say how?

Not exactly.

He said that the ironic thing

was that it involved his pretending to be himself.

Did he say who it was

who had given him this chance for revenge?

No, but obviously, it was the man

that Sister Theresa wrote me about,

the man who came looking for him at St. Mary's.

No, it wasn't Ernest at the orphanage.

He wasn't away at the time you say.

You're positive?

And are you equally positive

you weren't away from your apartment

the night of the murder?

Now, what would you say, Mrs. Stone,

if I produced another witness

who saw you outside the French doors to the library?

Leonard.

He was in the library.

I thought perhaps he looked out, and he saw me when I saw him.

Did you see him kill your husband?

Of course not.

He was just looking down at the body,

smiling, and then he left the room.

All right, Mrs. Stone.

Did you kill your husband?

No. Why would I?

I understand he was quite heavily insured.

I didn't kill him.

I didn't even go into the library.

Wayne can tell you that. He met me when I ran

into the house by the other door.

Didn't you, Wayne?

It's understandable

why I wouldn't want to come forward, isn't it?

Not wanting to become involved, even innocently.

Innocently?

That's a curious word for you to use, Mr. Jameson.

If you arrived as Ernest was entering the house,

you must have been there in plenty of time

to witness the quarrel and the struggle over the shotgun.

Now, why didn't you intervene?

Or at least report what had happened?

It was none of my business.

I suggest it was very much your business,

as the instigator and hidden partner

in the plot to cheat the two great-aunts.

And I further suggest, when you saw the plot explode,

leaving you no share of the Stone fortune

and possible exposure, you decided

the next best thing would be Ernest Stone's wife.

His wife and his insurance.

Nonsense.

I was never in any plot.

I never knew anything about one.

Didn't you, Mr. Jameson?

Sister Theresa,

would you point out for us the man who came to St. Mary's

asking the whereabouts of Caleb Stone?

No, no, never mind.

I knew that if Ernest were exposed,

he'd drag me down with him

and we'd both lose out on a fortune.

Well, I didn't want it to happen.

He was sitting on the floor,

only half conscious.

It was perfect.

I went inside, picked up the shotgun and...

You were right.

There was still his insurance, his wife.

Yes, I killed him.

I killed him.

What started me on the right track

was the attitude of Sister Theresa.

Neither affirming nor denying you were Caleb.

You figured, if the man in the photo was an imposter,

she would have said so.

She could see no harm

in Caleb being accepted here as Caleb,

nor in letting the exchange of names remain a secret.

Until the death of Ernest Stone, of course.

But what kept me on the track

was the faith you two had in Caleb.

Faith which, incidentally, paid off in another way,

because it turned the spirit of his revenge into, uh...

What shall I say, Caleb?

The only words.

Love, Mr. Mason.

We knew that would happen all the time.

You did?

Why, yes, Miss Street.

Because, as you just said... We had faith.