All language subtitles for Ellery Queen Mysteries - 01x01 - Too Many Suspects (pilot).DVDRip.English.HI.updated.Addic7ed.com

NARRATOR: In a few minutes,
this woman will be dead.

The question is, "Who killed her?"

Was it Carson McKell,
the philandering financier?

I am a married man.

Marion McKell, the jealous wife?

She was my rival.

Tom, the son
with a dangerous temper?

Tell them that he's innocent.

The radio mystery star?

The man we've been looking for
is you.

The ambitious secretary,
the chauffeur, or the delivery boy?

Match wits with Ellery Queen

and see if you can guess
who done it.

Tonight, a "Mystery Movie"
special presentation...

"Ellery Queen,"

starring Jim Hutton
and David Wayne.

MAN: Good evening.

This is our fourth week of bringing
you world and local news

through the exciting
new medium of television.

President Truman
expressed approval this morning

of the attorney general'
investigation...

[Gunshot]

... who might be responsible
for increasing prices

on housing, food, and clothing.

Mr. Truman said that this would
constitute an effort

to determine who is profiting
beyond normal margins.

And on the local scene,
Mayor O'Dwyer said

he'd like to see a grand jury
established in each county

to inquire into gambling practices.

The mayor praised
the Queens County grand jury

for investigating alleged
police grafting on bookmakers.

Finally, President Truman
will be in New York tomorrow

to inspect the site of the new
United Nations building

and to meet with state
and local Democratic leaders.

They will return to Washington
before nightfall.

And now, a look
at tomorrow' weather.

Well, it' been rain and more rain...
four soggy days.

But that static cloud cover
is finally blowing out to sea.

And according
to the Weather Bureau,

we can expect clearing weather
throughout the entire weekend.

And that friendly old ball of fire
in the sky

is going to be smiling
all along the Eastern seaboard.

Yes, all things considered,

Jones Beach or Coney Island
might be a good id...

[Horn blows]

[Footsteps]

[Organ plays]

Even though the fog
was almost impenetrable,

I managed to find my way
to the familiar door.

I opened it quietly and went inside.

Ahead of me, the sound of voices.

I knew it was Dr. Fleming
and his nurse working late.

They turned as I entered the office.

Mr. Brimmer,
what are you doing here?

Sorry for the interruption, Doctor,

but I have an appointment
with a murderer.

Well, l-I don't understand.

It's quite simple.

You see, the man
we've been looking for is you.

But th-that's ridiculous.

Is it?

Doctor, he has a gun.

[Cocks gun]

And the doctor here
has something even more deadly.

We'll just open his medical bag...

and you'll notice, clearly labeled...

[Gasps]

Atropine!

Precisely... poisonous and colorless,

and introduced
into the victim's glass

through the agency
of innocent-looking ice cubes.

So, that's how it was done.

[Hurried footsteps]

Get out of my way... both of you!

Ugh! Ohh!

[Thud]

Is he... is he all right?

He'll be out for a while,

just long enough
for you to call the police.

Tonight's episode
of "The Casebook of Simon Brimmer"

was brought to you by Vita-Creme,

the hair tonic for that shinier shine.

♪ Nightingale, nightingale ♪

Okay, we're at commercial.
Stand by for the final announcement.

♪ I got a dream guy, Vita-Creme guy ♪

♪ With a shine
that makes me squeal ♪

♪ It' the Vita-Creme shine ♪

♪ That makes me squeal ♪

[Organ plays]

Tune in again next week,
same time, same station,

when Simon Brimmer,

America's favorite criminologist,
raconteur,

and aficionado
of the exotic and the bizarre

will bring you another page
from his casebook.

Until then...

This is Simon Brimmer,
saying "good evening".

MAN: Thank you, everybody.

Nice show, huh, Mr. Brimmer?

Hardly...
all the thrills of a church picnic...

no pace, no suspense, no story.

We'll talk tomorrow, 9:00 sharp.

- Mr. Queen.
- Hmm?

- Mr. Queen.
- Hmm?

Sorry that we bored you.

Oh, no, not really.
It was an excellent show.

Oh, come, now. You dozed off
on the first commercial.

Oh, really, I'm sorry. I usually have
a better attention span,

but I've been up for 48 hours
trying to finish my new book.

Ah, deadlines.

We have those here, too,
which is why I need your help.

Uh, Mr. Brimmer...

Simon.

I've been thinking
about your offer...

I'm a student of the human voice,
Mr. Queen,

and I sense
a certain reluctance in yours.

Is it the money?

Oh, no, the feed is very generous.

Then what's the problem?

You're one of the best
mystery writers in the business,

and that's exactly what I need.

"The Casebook of Simon Brimmer"
is just about empty,

and that microphone is insatiable.

All I'm asking for is the right
to buy your private files

and have them adapted
into radio scripts.

Then my cases would become
your cases, solved by you.

Well, of course,
I couldn't use your name.

After all, my audience tunes in
to hear me.

Unfortunately, Mr. Brimmer, you're
asking me to be a ghostwriter...

- A technicality.
- Not to me.

All right, then. Let's say
a very rich ghost with silk sheets.

It's tempting,
but I'm afraid I'll have to pass.

Mr. Queen, I don't think
you understand.

I'm offering an opportunity
to add millions to your audience.

[Telephone rings]

I don't wish to be interrupted.

What?

It's for you.

Thank you.

Hello?

- Ellery?
- Dad?

- You finished there yet?
- Yeah, just about.

Well, on your way home,
do me a favor.

Stop by 441 Park, the penthouse.

Dad, I haven't got time for a detour.
If I don't finish that book...

See you soon, son. Thanks.

Something important?

I don't know.

Anyway, Mr. Brimmer,
thanks for your offer.

I'm sorry it didn't work out.

I hope you know
you're making a mistake.

Oh, probably.
I make a lot of them.

Good night, Mr. Queen.

Get me the news room, please.

Hello, this is Simon Brimmer.

There's a police investigation tonight
- something special.

Find out all you can
and let me know.

Almost as farfetched
as one of your books...

a dying clue which makes
absolutely no sense,

which means, of course,
it's right up your alley.

Tell me about her.

Name's Monica Gray, one of the top
fashion designers since the war.

Your wife would probably be
wearing her fall line,

if you were married.

Attractive and vain.

Why do you say that?

How many of us keep framed
photographs of ourselves?

- That's interesting.
- What is?

She's a puzzle addict...
yesterday's crossword.

In the bookcase,
she's got a thesaurus

and a half-dozen dictionaries.

That supposed to mean something?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Anyway, Dad,
what's your reconstruction?

Looks like it started in here.

Oh.

Oh! I'm sorry.

Here... that's yours.

Now, I assume
she was working here.

This is the only lamp that was lit.

These must be
her three previous collections...

The Lady Ruth line in '45,

Lady Thelma last year,
and Lady Dulcea this year.

That's a nice
merchandising gimmick.

She christened each style
with a woman's name.

That's right.

Now, tonight she was working
on next year's collection.

How do you know?

Because we found
one of her sketches

in the living room.

Now, bear with me.

She's working here.
She hears a sound.

- Possibly the front doorbell.
- Right.

Right, now, she gets up,

and she goes into the foyer.

She opens the door,
admitting the murderer.

Meaning there's a good possibility
she knew him.

And then she walks back
into the middle of the room,

about here.

He shoots her.

She falls right next to that sketch
she was carrying.

We can tell by the bloodstains
and the indentation on the carpet.

No, no, we dusted that...
just her prints.

"Lady Norma"...
she's very consistent.

Okay, the murderer leaves her
for dead,

but she's still alive, barely,

and she's trying to leave us a clue.

The nearest phone is in the bedroom.
That's too far to crawl.

She knew instinctively
she could only move a few feet.

Any pens or pencils in here?

Nope.

Then there was nothing
for her to write with.

Then she realized
she'd never make the bedroom.

Well, she did have
that piece of paper beside her.

Would have been nice
if she'd have scratched a name

with her fingernail.

Well, naturally you noticed
that she kept her nails cut short.

It was more convenient for her.

She was always sketching
or handling fabric

or using the typewriter
or whatever.

Well, anyway, she crawled past
the coffee table, over to the wall,

where she pulled out that plug
of the clock

and that television gizmo.

And then she died.

Now, that's my reconstruction.

And very good, too, Dad.
I agree with it.

That's as far as I go

because I haven't the slightest idea
what the lady was trying to tell us.

You ever see
one of those things before?

Huh? Yeah, a few.

Damn nuisance.
A friend of mine has one.

People keep dropping in.

Oh, I wouldn't worry about it.
It's just a passing fad.

Channel 4. What was on
when she pulled out the plug?

Yeah, we called the station...

an experimental program,
news and weather.

We're getting a script.

News at that hour?

Yeah, big mistake.

Who wants to watch the problems
of the world before he goes to bed?

There are so many possibilities...
too many.

Yeah? Like what?

Well, maybe she was trying to tell us
the time of her death.

Well, we already know that.

People on this floor
heard a shot around 10:25.

Well, what was she trying to say,
and why both plugs?

Was she reaching
for the clock cord

and did she accidentally
pull out the television cord,

or was it the other way around?

Is she saying something
about electricity,

about the failure of power?

No.

Or is she relating
to the television set

as a piece of furniture,
a box, a console, screen?

And what about that clock?

- Wait a minute.
- You got something?

Very clever, Dad, very shrewd.

Who? Who?

You.

You know I'm supposed to be home
finishing a book.

You know I got a deadline to meet,
but you drag me up here,

and you dangle all this catnip
in front of me.

Now, Ellery, I'm not trying
to inconvenience you.

I said I'm going home. You're not
gonna suck me in this time.

Son, you're doing me an injustice.
Besides, I know you.

Let's face it... you're hooked.
You can't walk out of here.

Can't I?

Night, Dad.

Gee, that's too bad, Inspector.

I thought you had him
out of the water and into the boat.

- I was just thinking.
- Yes?

No headway on the dying clue,

but I'm sure you picked up
the other information.

What information?

Oh, you know, the obvious things...
the fact that she's single,

yet she had a man coming here
on a more or less regular basis...

a pipe smoker, by the way.

Oh, excuse me.
Just a minute, Dad.

I should have the autopsy
completed by morning.

If the time of death
checks out with the clock...

Huh?

Never mind.
I'll give you a call.

I thought so.

He was a recent visitor,
about medium size.

Well, why you're at it, why don't
you tell us the color of his eyes?

Oh, I can't do that,
but I can tell you his initials.

His initials?

All right, let's start
at the beginning.

She's single because I saw her name
on the penthouse mailbox

when I came in downstairs...
Miss Monica Gray.

By the way, the fact that this is
a recent building is unfortunate.

Why?

It has these new
self-service elevators...

no elevator operator
to see who comes and goes.

Get to the man.

A pipe holder.

Now, unless she smoked a pipe,

she probably kept it here
for someone who did.

When I was in the bedroom,
I looked in the closet,

and there's a smoking jacket
in there, medium size.

Velie.

Tobacco crumbs in the pocket...
not stale.

So, he was here recently.

And his initials?

VELIE: C.M., Inspector.

- Anything else?
- No, that's about it.

Except he smokes a mild tobacco,
heavy on the latakia.

Dad, I got to get home
and finish my book.

Well, I guess
I got my money's worth.

It's really very simple.

I make it a point to be observant
and to pay attention to details.

Good night, Dad.

- Son.
- Hmm?

You forgot your glasses.

[Telephone rings]

RICHARD: Ellery!

Ellery, telephone!

Yeah?

Yeah, Velie.

Fill me in.

Really?

Yeah.

Okay, I'll get dressed,
be there in about a half-hour.

What did you do that for?

Only way to get your attention.
Did you hear that call?

Call?

The telephone call.

We don't have to worry

about Monica Gray's
dying clue any longer.

Why not?

Because we've got
a pretty good hunch who did it.

Our friend C. M?

Carson McKell.

The Carson McKell?

The same...
financier and philanthropist.

And...

He owns the gun that killed her.

You traced it?

His name's on the license.

Two other facts...
he's married, and get this...

he and his wife live
in Monica Gray's apartment building.

I wonder if he smokes a pipe.

[Buzz]

WOMAN: Mr. McKell, there are
two gentlemen here to see you.

They're from the police department.

Send them in.

Right this way, gentlemen.

Mr. McKell,
I'm Inspector Richard Queen,

and this is Sergeant Velie.

- I've been expecting you.
- Oh?

Dad, Waterson should be here.

I'll call him when necessary.

This is my son and associate,
Tom McKell.

Mr. Waterson is our attorney.

I assume you've come to talk to me
about Monica Gray.

TOM: Dad.

Let me handle this.

Miss Gray was a friend of mine,
which I'm sure you know already.

A close friend?

I don't have to answer
questions like that!

Mr. McKell, this is
a delicate situation,

and you're an important man,

but Miss Gray
was murdered last night,

and your gun was found
in her apartment.

I'm afraid that gives me the right
to get personal.

We'd had several burglaries
in our building...

jewelry, furs, and such...

and Miss Gray lived alone,
and she was frightened.

She wanted something
for protection.

You gave her the gun?

Yes, I bought it for her
a few months ago.

RICHARD: Do you have a key
to her apartment?

Yes.

Then you were
in the habit of visiting her.

Inspector, I am a married man,
and this is very difficult for me.

Gail, get Ben Waterson right away.

Inspector, are you putting my father
under arrest?

- That all depends.
- On what?

On whether or not he had an alibi
for last night.

How about it, Mr. McKell?

Here they come!

[Indistinct shouting]

No comment. Please, please.

MAN: Have you posted bail,
Mr. McKell?

- WOMAN: Mr. McKell!
- Move back. Move back.

WOMAN: Mr. Waterson!

Let him through, please.
Let him through. Come on.

MAN: Counselor? Mr. McKell?

WOMAN: Mr. Waterson.
Mr. Waterson?

What are you hiding, Mr. McKell?
Why don't you make a statement?

Counselor, my father's
been through an ordeal.

All he wants is a little privacy.

So, what are we gonna tell
our readers?

Tell them that he's innocent.

Mrs. McKell, are you
standing by your husband?

I mean, the rumors about
his relationship with Monica Gray...

Ramon, get us out of here!

WOMAN: Aww, Mr. McKell.

MAN: Counselor? Counselor,
what do you think about...?

I'm sorry about that, Marion.

Oh, don't be.
I'll get used to it.

TOM: Ben, any reports come in
from the private detectives?

I certainly hope so.

The papers have already tried
and convicted him.

Well, Marion, it's a difficult case.

We're all going
to have to go on hoping

that something will turn up.

We should make something
turn up... and soon.

Ellery!

Ellery.

- Hi, Penny. Having fun?
- How can I?

I'm doing my Sonja Henie bit,
and you're not even watching.

- Well, I've been reading.
- I know you've been reading.

You were reading at the zoo.
You were reading at Schrafft's.

I thought we were supposed to be
spending the day together.

Huh? We are spending
the day together.

Yeah, you with your nose in a book.

I read this one. This is the one
where the doctor's the murderer.

Honey, I promised your parents
I'd take care of you today.

You're my cousin, and I love you.

But if you ever do anything
like that again, I'll break your neck.

Now go skate.

I'm bored with skating.

Then what do you want to do?

I don't know. We could find out
why they're following us.

- Why, who's following us?
- Them.

- When did you first see them?
- At the zoo.

- You sure?
- Sure, I'm sure.

You would be, too, if you weren't
always reading that book.

Wait here.

Um... um, Mr. McKell?

Do you know me?

Well, everybody in New York
knows you.

You and your family
come with the morning milk.

We might as well tell him.

We were following you, Mr. Queen.

I guess we were trying to work up
the courage to talk to you.

Oh?

Now that we're face-to-face, though,

I'm beginning to feel
a little ridiculous.

Tom, I'm sure Mr. Queen
has better things to do.

PENNY: Hey!

Not necessarily.
Have you two had lunch?

[Slurping]

Penny, is that what they teach you

at Miss Pruitt's School
for Gifted Children?

- I want another one.
- You've already had two.

We've tried everything, Mr. Queen,
even private detectives,

but it's been a stone wall.

And we thought
since you had the reputation for...

Not minding my own business?

For helping people...
we thought we'd talk to you.

What's your interest in this,
Miss Stevens?

Gail is Dad's
private secretary. Yeah.

She doesn't believe he's capable
of committing a murder.

Neither do I.

But my father does.

That wouldn't have anything to do
with your being here, would it?

Yes, well, partly.

We thought you might be able
to influence him.

I mean, he hasn't been very helpful,

at least as far
as the alibi's concerned.

Alibi? What alibi? There hasn't
been anything in the papers.

Mr. Queen, do me a favor...
let Dad tell you.

Just give him 10 minutes.

GAIL: An unofficial visit.

I mean, nobody even has to know
you were ever there.

Ellery doesn't have time.

He has to take me to the museum,

and then we're going shopping
at Macy's.

Well, I did promise Penny's parents
I'd look after her today.

But a matter of life and death...
I'm sure they'd understand.

So, about my famous alibi...

I'm beginning to think
it was just a mirage.

Mr. McKell, it might help
if you give me some background.

All right.
It all started a few months ago.

Actually, I met Monica
in the elevator of this building.

We struck up a conversation,
and then I began to see her socially.

Then I got into the habit

of dropping by her apartment
on Thursday nights.

Don't be embarrassed
on my account, Mr. Queen.

I knew about it from the beginning.

It was more or less an intuition.
A wife can usually tell.

Cream and sugar?
Oh, black, thanks, yeah.

- Thank you.
- You were saying?

Well, Marion kept it to herself
for a while.

And then, on the morning
of the murder,

she asked me point-blank
if there was another woman.

I didn't know what to do.

Yes, you did.
You told me the truth.

Carson promised
to terminate the affair.

That was good enough for me.

"Terminate"...hardly the best word,
considering the circumstances.

Well, I'm sure
Mr. Queen understands.

What Mr. Queen doesn't understand
is the risk you took.

You were having
a clandestine relationship

with a woman
in your own apartment building.

Weren't you afraid you'd be seen?

Not really. I wore a disguise.

Disguise.

Oh, nothing elaborate...

a false mustache, some glasses,
and a funny hat.

I suppose it was juvenile, in a way,

but that was part of the romance
of the whole thing.

Besides, my wife and I had friends
living on the penthouse floor.

I thought it was
a necessary precaution.

When I hear myself talk like this,
I feel like a damn fool.

Mr. McKell, Monica Gray
was murdered on a Thursday night,

the night of your weekly visits.

Did you see her?

I'd like to know
everything you did that night.

Well...

I worked late at the office that day.

Everybody else had gone home.

[Clock ticking]

I was expected at Monica's.

I suppose I was delaying
the inevitable.

Finally, I couldn't put it off
any longer.

I knew she'd be worried,
so I rang her.

[Telephone ringing]

The phone rang for a long time,
which was strange,

because I knew she was
expecting me. And then...

[Telephone continues ringing]

Hello?

Monica? Carson.

I just wanted you to know
I'm on my way.

Oh, darling,
would you mind very much

if we didn't meet tonight?

I have a terrible headache,
and I could use a good night's rest.

Well, if I came by
for just a few minutes.

Oh, believe me, I'd be bad company.

We'll make it next week.

Monica, is there something wrong?
You sound hoarse.

Probably smoking too much.

Anyway, I can hardly
keep my eyes open.

I'm sorry, darling.

I'll call you tomorrow.

I decided to go and see her anyway,

and if there was a man there,
I'd force a confrontation.

So, I took my usual precautions
and left the building.

But as soon as I hit the street,
I lost my nerve.

I suppose I wasn't up to it.

Go on.

Well, I started walking, aimlessly.

And finally I ended up in a bar,
and I started to drink.

Now, my wife can tell you
I hardly ever touch the stuff.

But I was in a strange mood
that night.

Where was this bar?

That, Mr. Queen, is the problem.
I don't remember.

I don't even know
what time I was there.

- And that's your alibi?
- That's my alibi.

I told you it might be a mirage.

Ellery, dad thinks the bar
was in the West 40s.

It had a mirror
and some dark wood.

Unfortunately, so does every bar
in New York.

Yes, I know.
I've tried to remember.

I've racked my brains,
but I just cannot remember.

I'd had so much to drink
everything was a blur.

No, Mr. Queen, unless I can find
that bar, I haven't got a chance.

May I use your phone?

Oh.

If you want privacy,
there's one in there.

Thank you very much.

Yeah?

WOMAN: Inspector,
your son is on the phone.

Ellery?

Dad, I've got a question
about the McKell case.

The McKell case?
That's old news.

Well, whatever it is, I want to know
if you checked out his alibi.

What alibi? You mean
that cock-and-bull story

about him stopping off at some bar?

Why are you so interested
all of a sudden?

Dad, the alibi.

I had five of my best men check
out every bar in the West 40s,

not to mention the 30s and 50s.

They got a photograph
from Mrs. McKell,

showed it to every bartender
and waiter in the area...

- Day shift, night shift.
All right, l...

Wait a minute, now.
I'm not finished.

McKell's picture was
in all the newspapers,

and not one employee
of one saloon came forward.

Now, if anyone
did see him that night,

they're suffering
from collective amnesia.

- You still there?
- I'm still here.

I'm disappointed in you, son.

Don't you think your old man
knows his job?

That alibi just won't hold water.

All right, Dad, thanks.

I just talked with my father.

I can tell by your expression
he wasn't very encouraging.

I'm afraid he wasn't. I'm sorry.

Ellery, there's got to be something
the police have overlooked.

Perhaps the bartender that night
was a substitute.

Or maybe he's gone out of town.

No, our detectives
already looked into that.

Mr. Queen, it was
nice of you to come.

Tom, call down and have Ramon
drive Mr. Queen home.

Ellery, there were two eggs
burning in the kitchen.

Hmm?

Oh, good morning, Dad.
I made some eggs.

No, thanks.

The McKell trial?

Not going well for him.

What did you expect?

See you tonight.

Oh, son,
seeing you're so interested,

why don't you drop down
to the courthouse?

McKell goes on the stand today.

Oh, I can't, Dad...
starting my new book.

I got a date with my...
what do you call it? ...publisher.

Uh-huh.
Courtroom 3.

[Speaking inaudibly]

There was smudges,
half-obliterated specimens,

and a number
of reasonably clear prints.

Now, those identifiable
fingerprints...

who did they belong to?

- Most were the deceased's.
- Anyone else's?

Yes, sir the maid's, and there were
several clear prints of Mr. McKell's.

- The defendant?
- Yes, sir.

Thank you. Your witness.

[Clears throat]

Are you aware that Monica Gray's
apartment was repainted

and redecorated only two weeks
before her death?

Yes, sir, I was.

Well, isn't it likely that literally
hundreds of fingerprints

would have been obliterated
by a fresh coat of paint?

I suppose so.

So that whole armies could have
marched through that apartment

without your knowledge...

friends, neighbors, lovers.

Objection.

I have no further questions,
Your Honor.

I have one.

Were Carson McKell's fingerprints
at the scene of the crime,

or were they not?

- They were.
- Thank you. That'll be all.

So, Thursday
was your regular night off.

Yes, sir.

Did Miss Gray have company
on Thursday nights?

Usually, yes, sir.

I'd know because there'd be
two coffee cups in the morning

instead of one,

and there'd be pipe tobacco
in the ashtrays.

- Pipe tobacco?
- Yes, sir.

Was she expecting anyone
on the night of her death?

Uh, she said a friend
was coming over.

Any particular friend?

No, she didn't mention any names.

But she did laugh and say
that sooner or later

we'd have to fumigate the draperies.

And why was that?

Well, it was... it was a joke.

You had to know Miss Gray
to understand.

She was a very particular
kind of a lady.

She liked the things
to smell nice and to look nice,

and so she said
we'd have to get rid of the smell

of that awful pipe tobacco.

No further questions.

My tobacco was not
in the ashtray that night.

Doesn't that prove I wasn't there?

No. They'd only claim
you didn't stay long enough

to smoke your pipe.

Your witness, Mr. Waterson.

No questions, Your Honor.

So, you're asking us to believe
that this one night,

of all the Thursday nights that
you met secretly with Monica Gray,

you didn't keep the appointment?

She said she wasn't feeling well.

Perhaps she wasn't feeling well,
Mr. McKell, after you left her.

- Objection, Your Honor.
- Sustained.

We'll strike that from the record.

And I would caution
the district attorney

against being inflammatory.

My apologies to the court.

Now, sir, let's talk for a moment
about the murder weapon.

Why did you want a gun
in Monica Gray's apartment?

I didn't.

You purchased one for her!

There had been some robberies
in the building.

She wanted something
for protection.

And what about your wife?

My wife?

Well, isn't she also a resident
of that particular building?

Of course she is.

Well, then we can assume

she's equally vulnerable
to an intruder.

Did you buy her a gun?

- No, I didn't.
- And why not?

Because it wasn't necessary.
She was never alone.

But she alone
the night of the murder.

That was the rare exception.

Anyway, my wife did not want a gun
in the apartment.

Monica did.

So you said.

It happens to be the truth.

Mr. McKell, do you still persist
in your claim

that you spent part of the night
in a bar?

Yes.

A bar that the police
have been unable to locate?

Yes.

A bar that you don't even
remember yourself?

I was there!

Well, then, where is it, sir?
Where is it?

Give us its longitude and latitude.

Unless, of course, it doesn't exist.

Unless, of course,
like the rest of your story,

it's constructed of smoke...
pipe smoke!

WATERSON: Objection.
This is unconscionable, Your Honor.

JUDGE: Withdraw the question.
We'll strike that from the record.

Your witness, Mr. Waterson.

- Ellery.
- Huh?

You're not gonna stay?

No, I thought I'd take a walk
and clear the cobwebs.

I don't think I can watch anymore.
Do you want company?

Sure, sure, come on.

I suppose I've gotten too involved,

but ever since I started working
with Mr. McKell,

they've made me part of the family.

Ah.

You haven't heard a word I've said,
have you?

I'm still back at that courtroom.
I'm sorry. You were...

You say you're part of the family.
Is that gonna be permanent?

What do you mean?

You and Tom.

I didn't know it was that obvious.

Pure intuition.

Reasonably accurate, too.

But first, though,
I've got to convince Tom

I'm not interested
in the McKell millions.

Then of course we've got to wait
for this terrible trial to be over.

I guess I better get back.

- Of course.
- What?

You a cop?

Me? No.

Good. I mean,
cops like to interfere

with my freedom
of artistic expression.

My father really hates this guy,
says he's a crook.

So I'm expressing myself
in the American way.

You like it?

Terrific, yeah, it's a work of art.

You shouldn't be seen in public
with me.

Why not?

Because I'm incredibly stupid.

That's the photograph
the police were showing

to every bartender
on the West Side.

Of course it is.
I gave it to them.

Mr. Queen, I fail to grasp
the significance of all this.

Don't you see?
My father made a mistake.

We all did.

He called in Sergeant Velie,
and he said,

"Carson McKell claims to have been
in a bar the night of the murder.

Check it out."

So, Sergeant Velie followed
standard procedures.

What procedures?

He got a photograph
from your mother,

he had it duplicated, and gave it
to 10 or 15 plainclothesmen.

He also described Mr. McKell,
but something got lost in the shuffle,

one little thing he didn't know.

Mr. McKell wasn't himself that night.

- Exactly.
- What are you two talking about?

Mr. McKell, you were wearing
a mustache, glasses, and a hat.

Carson McKell
didn't go into a bar that night.

It was Carson McKell in disguise.

Of course!
I was going to see Monica.

I still had the makeup on.

[Laughs]

Remember you said you were
gonna stop by your office that night?

Yes, of course l...

Oh, you'd been drinking a little bit,
as you said.

But you had the presence of mind
to change before you went home.

It was staring us in the face
all the time.

The wrong face.

Who could identify your father
when he looked like somebody else?

- Of course.
- GAIL: So, now?

Now we get another picture of Dad...
in disguise, this time...

and have it circulated.

Mr. Waterson, please.

Let's just hope there's
a bartender in this town

with a very good memory.

Raise your right hand.

Do you swear by Almighty God

that the testimony
you're about to give

shall be the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth?

I do.

Be seated.

Would you state your name
and occupation, please?

Matthew Thomas Cleary,

part owner and bartender
of the County Cork Bar and Grill

on West 48th Street.

I'd like you to cast your mind
back to the night of the murder,

the night of the 28th, to be exact.

All right.

Now, Mr. Cleary, would you tell us
if one of your customers that night

is present here in this courtroom.

Yes, sir.

And would you point him out to us,
please?

Sure, right there.

Thank you.
No further questions.

Frankly, Mr. Cleary, I just don't see
how you can remember.

Couldn't it have been another night.

It could have, but it wasn't.

How many nights does
my granddaughter have a birthday?

And besides, I was an hour late
getting to work.

But to remember one man,
after all this time...

I got a charity box on the bar.

This fella pays for his drinks
with a $20.

I give him change,
and he shoves over a ten-spot.

"Put it in the box," he says.

"Something for the office," he says.

That makes me remember him

'cause nobody ever gave me
a ten-spot before.

Was the bar crowded?

Always is, always.

Well, then maybe you didn't notice
what time he left.

Sure, I noticed.
It was 11:00, right on the button.

Mr. Cleary, this astonishing
memory of yours.

What's astonishing?

Every night at 11:00,
I go out to get the papers.

We both left together.

[Sighs]

No further questions.

He was kind of his cup, see,
so I even got him a cab.

No further questions!

Just trying to be helpful, sir.

Members of the jury,
have you reached your verdict?

We have, Your Honor.
We find the defendant not guilty.

JUDGE: Thank you,
ladies and gentlemen.

The jury is dismissed.
Court is adjourned.

Ben, thank you.
Thank you.

- Dad, it's all over.
- Thank you.

Mr. Queen, thank you.

We're very much in your debt.

I'm very happy for all of you.

- Thank you.
- Ellery, thank you.

Congratulations, Mr. Queen.

Perhaps you don't remember me.

Yes, you're Simon Brimmer.
Are you a friend of the McKells?

No, just an interested bystander.
I've been following the case.

Nice bit of courtroom theatrics,
making the invisible man visible.

Your idea, no doubt.

Well, partly.

Oh, come, now, Mr. Queen.
Take credit where it's due.

Oh, by the way, I think you'll find
my program interesting tonight.

So will the McKells.

Oh!

Ellery, we should have
invited your father.

I guess he could use a drink.

No, no, no, no, poor man.
Now the case is open again.

Oh, he's used to that.

Yes, well, at least
he's off our backs.

Maybe now he'll come up
with something.

A woman like Monica Gray...

she must have had
at least a dozen enemies.

I didn't meet her,
but, you know, I wish I had.

That's a strange thing to say.
Why?

Well, she was talented
and beautiful.

- And cryptic.
- What do you mean?

Oh, you're forgetting
her farewell gift to us...

the television set
and the stopped clock.

Ah, yes.

Well, Ellery, now that Dad's free,
it's not really your problem anymore.

Oh, I wish I could believe that.

Mmm.

Huh?

- WATERSON: What's all this?
- The gentleman requested it, sir.

Just something I have to listen to.

Don't let me break up the party.

[Tuning]

MAN: And now, that well-known
expert in crime and deduction,

Simon Brimmer.

Good evening.

Before bringing you tonight's drama,

I'd like to introduce
a new feature to our program...

my comments on current
and as-yet-unsolved crimes.

A case in point...
the Monica Gray murder.

As my listeners may know
from their newspapers,

Carson McKell was acquitted today,

which poses
an interesting question...

If McKell is innocent,
then who' guilty?

I do not pretend
to have solved the case.

Your humble servant is not
permitted access to police files.

But I do have information

which New York's finest
has overlooked.

Allow me to introduce my guest,
Miss Cora Edwards.

Welcome, Miss Edwards.
Please don't be nervous.

Yes, sir.

You were Monica Gray's maid,
were you not?

Just speak
right into the microphone.

[Clears throat]

Yes, sir, I was.

Is it true that I contacted you today

and asked you
a very simple question?

Yes, sir.

You wanted to know
if anybody visited Miss Gray

on the day of her murder.

Precisely...

the most obvious question
in the world,

and yet the police
never asked it, did they?

No, sir.

I guess they were so sure
Mr. McKell murdered her

that they weren't looking
for anybody else.

And you never volunteered
this bit of information?

No, sir, they said
they knew who did it.

They said Mr. McKell did it.

Yes, but now we know
it wasn't Mr. McKell.

And according to what you told me,

Monica Gray did have a visitor
that day.

You only heard fragments
of the conversation,

but you said you saw
Monica show the visitor a gun.

That' right.

Cora, who was that visitor?

Cora?

Marion, what did you do that for?

She was going to name you,
wasn't she, Mrs. McKell?

Yes.

I don't believe it.

It's true, Tom.
I did go to see Monica that day.

- But you didn't...
- Kill her?

No.

Although I suppose
I had a good enough motive.

Marion, why didn't you
tell anyone about it?

[Sighs]

I... It didn't seem to have
anything to do with the case.

I guess I was embarrassed.

The wife
and the other woman meet?

It was a somewhat sordid situation.
I saw no point in talking about it.

Mrs. McKell,
why did you go see her?

The truth, Mr. Queen?

All right.

Simple curiosity.

Curiosity?

She was my rival, Carson.

Yes, I know you were going
to end the affair.

I suppose I'd won.

But here was a woman
you enjoyed being with.

I had to know what she was like.

It was a little before noon.

I rang the bell...
and introduced myself.

I told her I was charity chairman
for the building...

which happened to be true.

And she invited me in.

We talked for a while.

I must say, she was quite charming.

I could understand why you were
attracted to her, Carson.

And finally she gave me a check
for our charities, a sizable one,

and I left.

It was all very civilized.

Not quite, Mrs. McKell.

According to our friend on the radio,
you saw Monica's gun.

That's right. I did.

She... You see,
she took me into her bedroom.

She had an office in there.

And, um, she showed me
some of her fashion sketches.

Lady Ruth collection,
Lady Thelma, 1946, Lady Dulcea.

- They're lovely.
- Thank you.

And I'm starting on next year's line
right now, too.

But then I'm treating you
like a buyer.

You're here for something
much more important.

I'll get that checkbook.

Oh.

Oh. It's a necessary evil.
I don't even know how to use it.

Is it loaded?

Yes, but it has the safety catch on.

I don't like having it,

but there were so many robberies
in the building this year.

Let me write the check.

I... I suppose the maid
happened to look in

while she was showing me the gun.

But it was all perfectly harmless.

Excuse me. There's two gentlemen
to see Mrs. McKell.

ELLERY: What two gentlemen?

I have a hunch one of them's
a relative of mine.

Evening, folks.
Sorry to interrupt.

Hello, son.

Quick trip, Dad.

Brimmer's hardly off the air.

He called before the show
and gave us a preview.

What do you want, Inspector?

Just like to ask your wife
a few questions.

- No, absolutely not.
- Tom.

I'm sorry, young man.
This is official.

She'll either answer here
or downtown.

Now, we've already been
through some of that, Dad.

Mrs. McKell did visit Monica,
and Monica did show her the gun,

for easily explainable reasons.

That's fine. We'll get to that.

Right now, I'd like to ask you

where you were on the night
of the murder, Mrs. McKell.

- Marion, as your attorney...
- Please, Ben.

I was in our apartment.

Alone?

Uh, yes.

Carson wasn't home, as you know,

and the maid had the evening off.

Anyone call or come up?

No, I'm afraid not.

It had been a troubling day, and I...

I set out for some sleeping pills,
went to bed early.

Just a minute.

You say you got some pills?
Where did they come from?

The pharmacy across the street.

Then you did see someone...
the delivery boy.

I don't think that helps, Mr. Queen.

He came about 9:00.

I believe the inspector
is more interested in my alibi

at the time Monica Gray was killed.

Yes, Ma'am.

Well, unfortunately, I was asleep.

Oh, I do remember waking up once.

I thought Carson had come in,
and I called to him.

It was about 10:30,

but, of course, I can't prove that.

I'm afraid I'll have to ask you
to come along with me, Mrs. McKell.

Am I under arrest?

No, not at the moment,

but it might be a good idea

if Mr. Waterson came along
as your counsel.

Velie?

- Ma'am.
- No, no, just a minute.

- Tom.
- But you can't let them just...

- Tom!
- You can't do this.

- No! No!
- Just a minute. Do nothing.

Ben, they're trying to lock up
the whole damn family!

Listen.
Now, get control of yourself.

Listen, I'll take care of it.
Now, let me handle it, please.

RICHARD: The subject is closed.

She had motive, opportunity,
and she hasn't got an alibi!

ELLERY: Neither does
half the population of New York!

And what motive, by the way?

The best in the world... jealousy!

Her husband was seeing
another woman!

Correction... had been
seeing another woman!

He was calling it off!

We only have their word for that!

Mrs. McKell saw the gun.
She was only an elevator ride away.

Circumstantial!

Half our convictions
are circumstantial!

The D.A. Was embarrassed in court,

and Brimmer embarrassed him
on the air.

He's looking for a scapegoat,
and you're helping him.

I'm doing my job!

Now, if you don't have
some hard facts...

and I mean something better

than the last chapter
in a mystery book...

you'd better go home
and burn yourself some lunch!

That's what I like about you, Dad...
you got such a nice open mind!

Ellery! Your glasses!

Velie, I've got a personal problem,
and so does this department.

What's that, Maestro?

My father is dangerously close
to becoming senile.

I heard that, and I want you to know
I'm changing my will.

Don't be too hard on him, Maestro.
The D.A.'s been on his back.

We've had nothing but murders,
arson, and robberies around here.

- Post-war prosperity, Velie.
- You know what's funny?

We had another robbery
in the McKell building last week.

Really?

Yeah, some guy got away
with a mink coat

and a pair of ladies
diamond earrings.

- Monica's gun.
- What?

Don't you remember?
The reason she had it

was because of all the robberies
in that building.

Yeah, that's right.
Wait a minute.

You don't think she was killed
by a thief, do you?

I'll know better when I see the files.

- What files?
- The ones you're gonna get me...

fact sheets on every robbery
in that area in the past six months.

Maestro, I can't.
That's not even my department.

- Please, Velie.
- We got rules.

Please try to have it at my place
by this afternoon.

But, Maestro...

Velie, please.
It's been a very bad day for me.

Besides, I've just been disinherited.

Maestro?

[Clears throat]

Uh, Maestro?

Hmm?

- Are you through with the files?
- What?

Are you through with the files?

Oh, yeah.
Thanks, Velie.

You can take them back
to headquarters.

You find what you're looking for?

I think so.

I don't know. Maybe.

Oh.

Well, I'll be glad to get these back
under lock and key.

If your father found out I took them,

he'd have me back on Fifth Avenue
riding a horse.

- Velie?
- Huh?

Would you mind letting yourself out?

Sure, Maestro, no problem.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay, okay, okay, okay...

[Telephone rings]

Mr. McKell's office.

Gail? Ellery.
Where do you live?

In the East 70s. Why?

Near the McKells?

Well, yes, a few blocks away.

Oh, that's good.
Don't make any plans for tonight.

Are you asking me out?

No... in. I'll explain later.

[Buzz]

Yes, Mr. McKell?

Gail, come in for a minute, will you?

Certainly.

[Clears throat]

[Sighs]

Sit down, Gail.

I want to get your reaction
to something.

Now, Carson, listen. I hardly...

- I don't care what you hardly think.
- I hardly think this is the time...

Look, please. Gail is practically
a member of the family,

and I trust her completely.

All right, all right, as you wish.

Miss Stevens, if you are a friend,

perhaps you'll tell him
that he's taken leave of his senses.

I don't understand.

Suppose I were to tell you
I'm ready to confess

to the murder of Monica Gray.

What?

Oh, I didn't do it,
and neither did Marion.

But it's the only way I can think of
to protect her from a trial.

Carson, as your attorney, I cannot
tell you more strongly that l...

As my attorney, you should be
perfectly aware of the laws

governing double jeopardy.

I've been acquitted of the murder,

and I cannot be tried twice
for the same crime.

Now, with my confession on record,
they've got to let Marion go.

Only if they believe you.

Why shouldn't they believe me?

Because of the testimony
of the bartender.

Miss Stevens,
would you explain that to him?

I don't seem to be
having much luck today.

Mr. McKell, the bartender,
Mr. Cleary, gave you a perfect alibi.

- Couldn't he have been mistaken?
- Well, the jury didn't think so.

You were acquitted
on his testimony.

But why can't we get him
to retract the identification?

How? By bribing him, perhaps? Ah!

Carson, use your head.
This whole idea of yours is absurd.

I don't want Marion to come to trial.

She's a sensitive woman,
and she is not up to it.

I care as much about Marion
as you do.

I'm not just her attorney.
I'm her friend, as well.

And I'm telling you
that this whole plan of yours

will do her more harm than good.

Do you agree with him?

Yes, sir, I do.

If you come forward now,

the first thing
they're going to think

is that you're trying
to protect your wife,

that the only reason
you're confessing

is because you know she's guilty.

Exactly my point, not to mention
all the new publicity.

And what am I supposed to do,
just sit here?

There's nothing you can do.

Private detectives
are still on retainer.

Perhaps they'll come up
with something.

Detectives. Let me tell you
about your precious detectives.

The only thing
they've uncovered so far

is the fact that your firm
represented Monica Gray.

What?

Not you, one of your partners.

It was an infringement-of-copyright
thing

about, oh, a couple of years ago.

And that's the sort of information
they've been handing me...

totally useless.

Excuse me.

Mr. McKell?

Yes?

I don't know if this would be
at all encouraging,

but Ellery Queen just called.

He wants to see me.

- Socially?
- Well, no, I don't think so.

I'm sure it has something to do
with the case.

- And it's funny...
- What?

It seemed very important to him
that I lived near you.

[Whistling]

- Yes?
- Midtown Pharmacy, Ma'am?

Oh, yes, come in.

- How much is that?
- That's $4.35.

They sent the right pills,
didn't they?

I'm sure they did, Ma'am.

They don't make mistakes
with medicine, Ma'am.

Well, it's not really medicine.
It's just sleeping pills.

I had my doctor call over.

If I don't get some sleep tonight,
I think I'll collapse on my job.

City getting to you, Ma'am?

Oh, the sirens and barking dogs
and the people upstairs...

it sounds like they're walking around
in football cleats.

Well, this should do the trick, Ma'am.

I must be losing my mind.

I was supposed to take this in
for repairs today.

It's from an admirer.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Here we are.

Okey-doke.

Keep the change.

Oh, thank you.

- Thanks, Ma'am.
- Good night.

- Was I convincing?
- You were brilliant.

No wonder... I was star
of my high-school play.

What are you doing?
You've locked my key in there!

Watch this.

How did you do that?

Our friend pressed this
while he was talking to you.

Then he's coming back.

Well, I hope so.
We've dangled enough bait.

The pharmacy closes at 10:00.

And since you've just taken
some sleeping pills...

I have?

...at 10:20, you should go to bed.

Didn't she leave you
a big enough tip?

Ohh!

Now, how on earth
did that table get here?

- All right, just stay where you are.
- Oh, now, take it easy.

You fire that thing, you'll have
the whole building up here.

Hey, come on, the two of you
into the bedroom. Come on!

Why?

What do you mean, "Why?"

I'm gonna put you in the closet.
Then I'm gonna get out of here.

Now, come on.

But we already know
what you look like.

All right, so I'll leave town.
But I want a head start.

Congratulations.

What the heck
are you talking about?

Eddie... It's Eddie Carter, isn't it?

Eddie, you're in a lot more trouble
than you think,

but perhaps I can help you,

because you're obviously not
a killer.

W-w-wait.

H-How the heck
did you know my name?

Gail, would you make Mr. Carter
some coffee?

Oh, relax, Eddie.
There's no phone in the kitchen.

Besides, I think it's in your best
interest if we have a little talk.

What the heck
is going on around here?

Just sit down and make yourself
comfortable, put your feet up.

Relax.

Yeah.

Ah, that's all right.

And there was no forced entry.

Now, that's what every robbery
had in common.

So, it seemed logical to me

that the thief had to be actually
in the apartment,

maybe just inside the door,
where he could open the lock.

Now, who better
than a delivery boy?

Am I boring you?

Oh, no, no, you keep talking.
That's all right.

Eddie, I spent all afternoon
making telephone calls,

and you know what I found out?

I found out that almost
every robbery occurred

after you made a delivery
from the Midtown Pharmacy...

usually sleeping pills.

GAIL: Nice way to make a living.

He knew they'd be asleep,
so he just walked in.

[Yawns]

Get to the point, would you, hmm?

Well, the point is that you work
across the street

from the McKell apartment,

and on the night
Monica Gray was killed...

Hey, hey, wait a second.

You're not gonna pin
that murder on me.

Sit down, Eddie. Sit.

Now, a lot of robberies
in that building.

Yeah, but I didn't kill her.

Yeah, but the police
will think you did.

I didn't kill her.

Now, that's where I can help you.

But you're gonna have to
tell me the truth,

and you're gonna have to admit...

that... those are potent
sleeping pills.

[Laughs]

Maybe, but they make
for pretty lousy coffee.

So, the night Monica Gray
was murdered,

you were in the building,
weren't you?

You're asking me to convict myself.

For robbery, not murder.

And since I got a notion
that there's enough evidence

in your apartment to put you away,

a little cooperation on your part
might make things easier.

Yeah, all right.

I made a delivery to Mrs. McKell.
Is that against the law?

What time?

About 9:00.

You left the door unlocked,
but you came back later, didn't you?

Eddie?

Yeah, yeah, I guess. I guess.

Now, this is very important...
what time?

10:30.

How could you be so sure?

Because I get off duty at 10:00.

And besides, I read in the paper
the next morning

the girl was killed
while I was in the building,

so I damn well better
remember, right?

Ah!

Eddie, at 10:30, you were
in the McKell apartment.

Why didn't you steal anything?

Because the old lady woke up.

Bingo.

Mrs. McKell was in bed?

That's right.
She scared me half out of my mind.

With all those pills,
I thought she'd be out like a light.

I guess she heard me.

She started calling
from the bedroom.

I guess she thought
I was her husband or something.

What did you do?

What else? I got out of there.

So, she was in the apartment,
half-asleep,

on the night of the murder.

That's right.

Thanks, Eddie. Thanks a lot.
You've been a great help.

And you'll tell that to the judge,
won't you?

Let's go.

Eddie.

Well, that leaves Mrs. McKell
off the hook.

You'll notify her, won't you, Richard?

Yes, sir.

And we're right back
where we started. Unless...

Unless Eddie killed her?

- Sorry, it won't work.
- Why not?

One... he and Mrs. McKell alibi
each other at the time of death.

Two... Eddie had his own gun.
Why would he use Monica's?

And three...

Monica didn't order anything
from the pharmacy,

so there was no reason
for him to go to her apartment.

- Very good, Dad.
- Oh, thank you.

Yeah, terrific, except that now
we have no suspects and no leads.

Satisfied, Ellery?

No, not really.

No, this is the only case

where I've spent all my time
proving who didn't commit a murder.

Well, there's nothing more
to be done here tonight.

I'm going home to a double Scotch
and an angry wife.

Pleasant dreams, gentlemen.

Richard, I'll expect you to have
something for me real soon.

Yes, sir.

Ellery?

Maybe I ought to take
the gold watch and retire.

Maybe you should get
a good night's sleep.

Come on, Dad.
I'll drive you home.

Son, you are my only child
and a comfort in my old age.

- Inspector?
- Yeah?

But you are the worst driver
in the world.

If anybody gets behind that wheel,
it'll be me.

A messenger boy just delivered this.

There's no return address.
Who hired the messenger boy?

He doesn't know.

The stuff came in the mail
with some cash.

What is it?

- Unbelievable.
- Dad, what is it?

Just what we've been looking for.

Ellery, I think we have our killer.

"To Whom it May Concern,
this will solve all your problems."

Huh. It's dated
the night of the murder,

with a notation of the time... 9:00.

Now, that was an hour and a half
before the murder.

Go on. Go on.

"Carson McKell's son
came to visit me tonight."

Keep reading.

"He demanded
that I stop seeing his father.

He was extremely angry,
and the next thing I knew,

he was trying to strangle me.

Then he got frightened
and ran out of the apartment.

I'm convinced that he's
a dangerous person,

and if anything happens to me,
he will be responsible.

I'm giving this letter to a friend,

who will deliver it to the police
in the event of my death."

Signed, "Monica Gray."

We'll have the handwriting checked,
of course.

If it turns out to be hers...

Then you'll arrest Tom.

- Funny.
- What?

First the father, then the mother,
now the son.

We can't seem to get away
from the McKell family, can we?

- MAN: Mr. McKell?
- WOMAN: Mr. Waterson?

MAN: Mr. McKell,
there's a rumor that...

WOMAN: Mr. Waterson?

MAN: Mr. McKell, there's a rumor

that Monica Gray left
an incriminating note.

- Is that true?
- Mr. McKell?

Wait, Mr. McKell.
I'm asking... is that true?

Mr. McKell, were you
at her apartment that night?

[Sighs]

What can I say? It's true.

Tom, you don't have to
volunteer information.

I want to, Ben.
It's about time this came out.

- Then you're confessing?
- Not quite.

I mean, I was there that night.

I did lose my temper
and try to kill her, but...

when I left her, she was alive.

- That's easily proved.
- How?

Because if you'd killed her,
she couldn't have written the note.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Mr. McKell, maybe you'd better
tell me what happened.

[Sighs]

Well, I knew for a long time
that Dad was seeing another woman.

You thought you were being
subtle about it,

but it was pretty obvious.

I didn't know what to do.

But finally, on the day of the murder,

I looked through
Dad's appointment book.

The name Monica Gray
kept turning up.

So, that night, I went to see her.

What time?

About 8:30.

Anyway, I told her who I was,
and she let me in.

Well, I have
a pretty low boiling point,

and I wasn't very diplomatic.

I finally ordered her
to stop seeing Dad,

and she... exploded.

Who are you to tell me what to do?

Your father's private life
is none of your business!

Miss Gray, my family is my business,
and you're not part of it.

There's one thing I don't need.

That is a lecture
from a Victorian mentality.

- Miss Gray.
- Now, you get out of here right now.

Not until I have your word
that you will leave him alone.

My word? You mean
you would trust the word

of a compromised woman?

- Well, Miss Gray...
- You are very, very funny.

Miss Gray, I'm warning you.

Before I call the police
and have you removed,

let me give you a fact of life.

That is if your mother gave
your father what he wanted,

he wouldn't be seeing me.

You...

Oh!

Oh, stop! Please!

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.

Get out.

Get out!

I'd never come so close
to killing a person.

You can put me in jail
for attempted murder

or indict me for assault.

But I didn't kill that woman.

Where were you at 10:30?

Walking, feeling ashamed of myself.

No alibi, if that's what you mean.

Dad, I'm sorry.

I was trying to help,
and I just went in over my head.

Well, at least it explains
a lot of things.

It explains why Monica was
too upset to see me that night.

It explains why her voice
was so hoarse.

Excuse me, but there's
something peculiar about this.

That's the understatement
of the year.

No, I'm serious, Dad.

Monica writes a letter
and gives it to a friend

in case she meets with foul play.

But the friend doesn't deliver it
to the police,

even after Monica's murdered.

He holds on to it,
and then he suddenly sends it in.

Why?

I can tell you that.

I was being blackmailed.

You were what?

Two days after she was killed,
I got her letter in the mail...

a photostatic copy.

There was a note with it threatening
to send the original to the police

unless I paid $500 a week.

To whom?

No name and no address,
just a box number at the post office.

- And you paid, naturally.
- Wouldn't you?

The one thing our family didn't need
was more scandal.

But why would the blackmailer
stop the money machine?

Why would he send the stuff to us?

Because I finally got tired
of being taken.

- I tried to find out who he was.
- How?

Last week, when I made my payment,

I hired some detectives
to watch the box,

but he must have seen them

because he never picked up
the money.

I guess this was his way
of getting even.

You seem disturbed, Mr. McKell.

I am disturbed.

I didn't tell anyone,
but I was being blackmailed, too...

obviously the same man.

What?

Somehow he had found out
about Monica and me.

This was some months ago.

And he sent me a note
threatening to tell your mother

unless I paid him $500 a week.

Same business
with the post-office box?

Exactly the same.

Naturally, I stopped all payments
after the murder.

Interesting character,
this blackmailer.

Aside from knowing
about you and Monica,

he was in her apartment
the night of the murder.

- Why do you say that?
- Well, look at the facts, Dad.

Monica wrote her note to the police
at 9:00,

saying she was gonna give it
to a friend,

but when you found the body
at 10:45,

there was no note
in that apartment.

She must have called him.

He came over
and took the letter with him.

It was like Grand Central Station
that night.

You were there, Tom,
so was the murderer,

and now we got a blackmailer
who had to be on the scene.

Unless, of course, the blackmailer
and the murderer

are the same person.

Inspector, we now know that Monica
had a mysterious friend.

They were together that night.

He killed her, took the letter,
and blackmailed Tom.

- That's possible.
- It's better than that. It's probable.

And it blows your case
against Tom sky-high.

Maybe, maybe not.

Right now I'm interested
in Monica's friend.

Anybody got any idea
who it might be?

[Buzz]

Yeah?

WOMAN: Gentleman to see you,
Inspector... a Mr. Brimmer.

Who?

America's favorite
connoisseur of crime, Dad.

By all means, let's see him.

Send him in.

Oh, I'm sorry, Inspector.
I didn't know you were occupied.

Perhaps I should come back later.

Not at all, not at all.

My father always has time to talk
with a concerned citizen.

The McKells, Mr. Waterson,
Simon Brimmer.

A genuine pleasure, gentlemen.

Not for me, Brimmer.

You're the one
who involved my mother.

I never said she was guilty,
Mr. McKell,

only that the police had overlooked
significant information.

No offense, Inspector.

What do you want?

Just a fact or two.

Rumor has it that Monica Gray
left a note

implicating young Mr. McKell here.

- That's none of your business.
- The rumor's true.

The note was missing
when the police arrived,

but somebody sent it to my father
just yesterday.

Ah.

Then, no doubt, you've deduced
that somebody else

would have to be there
the night of the murder.

Something like that, yes.

Thank you, Mr. Queen,
thank you very much.

You've just given me
the last piece to the puzzle.

I have?

I can see the answer
still eludes you... a pity.

But if you listen to my program
this evening,

everything will be crystal clear.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Just a minute.
If you're withholding evidence...

It's not evidence, Inspector,
just deductions,

and that's hardly a crime.

Good morning.

Why did you give him
all that information

on a silver platter?

Because I think
he's on to something.

What?

I have no idea, but along
with a few million other people,

we're gonna find out tonight.

BRIMMER: The solution
of the case, of course,

lies within the character
of Monica Gray herself.

After a bit of browsing,
I made an intriguing discovery...

the late Miss Gray
was a one-man woman.

And it seemed
that every year, recently,

there was a new and ardent
admirer in her life.

In 1945, according to Winchell,

she was seen around town
with a textile magnate

named Peter Hurt.

She and Mr. Hurt came
to a parting of the ways,

and in 1946, she kept company

with the well-known stage actor
Jeffrey Lord.

Mr. Lord was replaced
in Miss Gray' affection

only this year.

She dined frequently
at the Stork Club

with a French diplomat,
Claude Girard.

I've spoken to these gentlemen,
but each has an irrefutable alibi.

However, there is reason to believe

that she was seeing
still another man,

someone new,

someone who was with her
during her final hours

and who made off
with a certain message

she intended for the police.

I'll return with the final unraveling
after this word from our sponsor.

[Turns radio off]

What's all the fuss?
We knew about those men.

Well, I didn't.

Well, there was no reason
to tell you.

We checked them out
and eliminated them.

It's not there.

Ohh.

No, that's not it.
He's beaten us again.

Why didn't I really read those files?

What? What are you looking for?

An address.

An address? What address?

It's around here someplace.
I'll know it when I see it.

It's not there.

An address, an address, numbers.

Phone.

Phone.

Ha!

Dad, call in and have squad cars
meet us at 715 West 96th Street.

Wait a minute.
That sounds familiar.

What is it?

Dad, please hurry.
I'll get the car.

A new lover,

a man who knew
about her relationship

with Carson McKell
and blackmailed him,

a man who tried
to blackmail Tom McKell,

finally, the man who was
in her apartment that night

after Tom had gone
and shot her to death.

[Turns radio off]

What are you doing?

It's all right, Dad.
I know what he's gonna say.

I should have guessed it
months ago.

Guessed what?
And that's a red light!

[Honking]

Sorry.

Dad, get a pencil and pad
out of the glove compartment.

Write down the names
of Monica's boyfriends.

In '45, Peter Hurt.

Just write the last name.

And the next is...

- It's green.
- Who?

- The light... it's green.
- Oh.

[Tires screeching]

[Honking]

In '46, it was Jeffrey Lord,
the actor,

world-famous for playing "Hamlet."

Put down "Hamlet."

In '47, Claude, the diplomat.

Claude... got it.

Now, keep in mind that Monica
was a very bright lady...

a puzzle addict, remember?

[Tires screeching]

Ellery!

She wanted a way to commemorate
the men in her life.

Ellery!

So, in 1945, she designed
a collection of clothes.

You remember the drawings, Dad.

She called it
the Lady Ruth collection.

Anagrams!

Exactly. Switch around the letters
of the word "Ruth," and you get...

Hurt, Peter Hurt...

H-U-R-T equals R-U-T-H.

Right, and the next was...

Lady Thelma.

Switch "Thelma" around,
and it spells "Hamlet."

Ellery, that car!

[Honking]

It's all right. He sees us.

Finally, there's
this year's collection.

And what did Monica call it?
Lady Dulcea.

Dulcea is an anagram
for C-L-A-U-D-E, Claude.

That's what Brimmer tumbled to.

She named her collection
after the men in her life.

[Tires screeching]

Stop the car.

No, we're not there yet.

And we won't get there
with you driving.

Now, stop the car and get out.

[Tires screech]

[Tires screech]

Now, get to the point.

She used anagrams, but I told you
those three men have alibis.

Dad, you're forgetting something.

I have a hunch that Claude had
already seen his day with Monica.

She had somebody new.

Carson McKell.

No, I don't think so.
I mean one of her long-term affairs.

She had a new collection
on her drawing board.

She was working on it
when she was killed.

- Yeah, yeah, the pencil sketch.
- Right.

- Now, what was it again?
- Lady Norma.

I don't believe it.

Ramon.

BRIMMER: The McKells' chauffeur
and Monica Gray' last lover,

the man who, by all logic,

was with her in her apartment
that night.

Carson McKell was right.
She was expecting someone else.

As soon as Tom ran out,
she called Ramon.

When he arrived, he saw the letters
she had written to the police.

It was a golden opportunity
for further blackmail.

Perhaps they argued.

Perhaps their relationship
was already showing the strain

of their differing social stations.

In any event,
Ramon almost certainly knew

where the gun was kept.

He took it from its drawer,
aimed it as his lover, and...

[Dog barking]

I think I saw somebody
at the window.

Well, he's not in there now.

Well, should we wait
for the inspector?

Yeah. Cover the back and the front.
Tell them.

[Vehicle approaching]

There he is, Sergeant.

He in there?

We spotted him a few seconds ago.

- Everything covered?
- Yes, sir.

Let's go in.

Ramon, this is Inspector Queen!
Open up!

Ramon?

Velie... fire escape!

The roof!

You see anything?

No, but they're up there.

Watch yourself!

Ramon, you'll never make it!

Come on.
Let's go downstairs, huh?

We'll have some coffee.

Come on.

Don't do it! Ramon!

Ramon! Hold on!

Hold on!

[Thud]

[Sirens wailing]

Well, I realize the weather's
subject to change,

but that itemized list I gave you
is just that... it's an itemized list.

You should be able
to get all the pieces out.

It...

Oh, they won't be tied up
at that time?

Good. Then you...

The trucks will be working. Good.

You'll have
all of Monica's stuff delivered.

What? Oh, sure, you can use
the police photographs.

Right.

And you will have it delivered?
I can count on that?

Thank you.

You're up early.

Excuse me. I didn't go to bed.

I've been up, reading.

That's the script for the news
and weather program on TV.

You've read that 100 times.

Well, it just goes to show you
how stupid I am.

Ellery, give it up.
The case is closed.

Ramon even saved us
the cost of a trial.

- He didn't kill her.
- What?

It's taken me this long, Dad,
but I finally figured it out.

Ellery.

The solution, the end of the case...
it'll come at 10:25 tonight.

You're saying...

I know who killed Monica Gray.

Dad, I'll make you breakfast.

Do you know
who killed Monica Gray?

Now, if you've been
watching closely,

you have all the information
you need.

You know, for example,
it's not the father

because I proved him innocent.

Or did I?

Maybe it's the mother or the son
or the faithful secretary.

Or maybe it's somebody
on the sidelines.

But don't go too far afield.

It's not my father.

At least, I don't think it is.

Well, good luck.

Hey, you're probably
way ahead of me, anyhow.

Hey, Dad?

Breakfast?

Here at the sketches
you wanted, Ken.

Will you put them
in the right order?

Okay, thank you very much.

You're the cameraman?
How do you do?

- Mr. Queen?
- Yes.

Would you like to look at the script?

- Yeah, thanks very much.
- Good.

That camera?

Oh, on him. Thank you.

- May I borrow your pen?
- Sure, help yourself.

Mr. Queen, I think we've waited
long enough

watching you arrange
this boring paraphernalia.

The least you might have done
was provide champagne.

It's not a celebration, Mr. Brimmer.

Then what is it?

Until your call, I thought
everything was resolved.

Ellery, I'm getting a little nervous.
Ramon was guilty, wasn't he?

Of blackmail, yes.

Of being in Monica Gray's apartment
that night, yes.

- But not of murder.
- Nonsense.

Turn on the lights, please.

This is a layout
of Monica Gray's apartment.

I had the furniture taken
from storage.

Yes, you've certainly gone
to a great deal of trouble, Mr. Queen.

Might one ask why?

To disprove your theory,
Mr. Brimmer.

All right, what do we know
about Monica Gray?

She was bright, she was clever,
and she enjoyed word games.

Now, here's where she fell
when she was shot...

right by this sketch.

Now, it's agreed that she wanted
to leave us a clue

to the murderer's identity.

So she dragged herself
past this coffee table,

to the television set.

Ellery, we... we know all that.

All right. Let's go a step further.
Let's assume Ramon did kill her.

Why on earth didn't she
just hold on to the sketch?

It was right there.

And written on it
are the words "Lady Norma,"

"Norma" being an anagram
for "Ramon."

Why crawl clear across the room

when the best clue
was just inches away?

And another thing...
a planter in the shape of a car.

Ramon was a chauffeur.

If she wanted to blame him,
all she had to do was grab the car.

We would have found it in her hands.
But she didn't. Why?

Because he didn't kill her.

She wanted to implicate
somebody else.

Ellery, it's almost 10:00.

Thanks, Dad.

The gentlemen in the next set

are gonna recreate
the exact news broadcast

that was on the air that night.

They have the original script,

and because television timing
is so very accurate,

it should be interesting to see
what was on the screen at 10:25.

They've hooked up
Monica's television set,

so the broadcast
will come from there.

10:00.

Good evening.

This is our fourth week
of bringing you world and local news

through the exciting
new medium of television,

your window on the globe.

President Truman
expressed approval this morning

of the attorney general's
investigation

into who might be responsible

for increasing prices
on housing, food, and clothing.

Mr. Truman said that this would
constitute an effort

to determine who is profiting
beyond normal margins.

In Nuremberg, 21 former officials
of a chemical trust

pleaded not guilty

when arraigned
before the war-crimes court

on charges of having plotted the war
for corporate gain.

And on the local scene,

Mayor O'Dwyer said he'd like to see
a grand jury established

in each county
to inquire into gambling practices.

The mayor praised
the Queens County grand jury

for investigating alleged
police grafting on bookmakers.

Finally, President Truman
will be in New York tomorrow

to inspect the site of the new
United Nations building

and to meet with state
and local Democratic leaders.

They will return to Washington
before nightfall.

And now, a look
at tomorrow's weather.

Well, it's going to be rain
and more rain... four soggy days.

But that static cloud cover
is finally blowing out to sea.

And according
to the Weather Bureau,

clearing conditions will continue
throughout the weekend.

And that friendly old ball of fire
in the sky

is going to be smiling
all along the Eastern seaboard.

Yes, all things considered,

Jones Beach or Coney Island
might be a good idea.

Stop.

Monica was dying.

She looked up,
and what did she see

staring her in the face
on her television set?

The sun.

S-u-n, but also s-o-n.

And remember,
Monica liked word games.

Simple process of elimination...

Gail had no motive, so let's talk
about the McKell family.

Father... alibi.

Mother... alibi.

But son...

No alibi... out walking.

That's why she pulled the plug
on the clock.

She wanted us to know
what was on television

at exactly 10:25...

the son, Tom McKell.

You can never prove this.
They'll laugh you out of court.

- Tom, what happened?
- Dad, you don't understand. I didn't...

- What happened?
- Dad, I didn't want to.

L-I didn't mean... l-I...

After I left her,
I walked around for a long time.

My... my head cleared, and I...
I realized I'd tried to kill her.

So you went back.

I wanted to apologize. I...

I took the elevator to her penthouse.

But as I went toward her door,
it opened, and Ramon came out.

I couldn't believe it.

You decided she was stringing
your father along

while she was having an affair
with the family chauffeur,

a servant, a nobody.

I hid in the corridor
until he took the elevator.

Then I tapped on her door.

She must have thought it was him
because she opened it.

I didn't know what I was doing. I...

I yelled at her,
called her every name in the book.

I threatened her.

And then?

She got her gun.
I took it away from her and...

Tom, it was an accident, wasn't it?

I don't know.

Dad, I never would have
let them put you or mother in prison.

If necessary,
I would have confessed.

Velie.

[Telephone rings]

MAN: Inspector,
telephone call for you.

Nice piece of deduction, Queen.

You know, when the dust
settles from this,

we really must have lunch.

With the publicity from this,
there's no question that you and I...

Right, right, right.

Night, everybody.
Come on, Dad. Let's go home.

Well, I can't. I've got to go down
to Gramercy Park.

Somebody just murdered
a millionaire art collector...

just your kind of case, Ellery.

Good night, Dad.

Really very strange...
30 paintings in the house,

all of them turned to the wall.

Oh, no, no, no.
See you at breakfast.

What harm would it do
to take a look?

Did you say 30 paintings
turned to the wall?

Yeah.