Original subtitles

Clara Rhodes saw him hit Roberta Rhodes

and force barbiturates down her throat

and I believe her. And I don't.

My daughter was murdered.

Roberta Rhodes,

The movie star?

Six months ago, she insured her life with us for $1 million.

I say "murder," she gets $2 million.

I say "suicide," she gets nothing.

I couldn't kill Bobbi. I loved her.

Now, this case is just too big for us

to be sitting around on our evidence.

Our evidence?

Did you park that in front of this place again?

Did she take her own life?

We have two eyewitnesses to murder!

Is this the way you like it, honey?

Oh, yeah, perfect. You learn fast.

That's because I have a great teacher.

Uh, there's one small thing, though.

What's that?

Your chipper is scraping my ribs.

Holy mackerel, I forgot I still had it in my pocket.

You're a good sport, you know that, honey?

Here it is, almost midnight.

Well, you promised me a weekend of exercise,

fresh air, and togetherness, and that's what I'm getting.

You said we have to scrape the entire aft deck

before you varnish it tomorrow.

So?

So? If you do it alone, it'll take all night.

And I've got better things planned for you.

Quincy.

Oh, no.

I'm not here.

You heard me say "absolutely, under no circumstances," right?

I... I did unplug the telephone, didn't I?

Okay, I'll get rid of him.

First law of the sea. I could shoot you

for boarding without permission.

I'm sorry, Quincy,

but they want you on it right now.

Why are you whispering?

Roberta Rhodes.

The movie star?

Yeah.

Oh, my God.

There he is!

Hey, Quincy.

Doc, can we have a statement?

Cut it out. I have nothing to say.

Hey, Doc, tell us...

As soon as I know anything, you'll know.

Lighten up, all right? Lighten up.

Give the man a chance to do his job.

Oh, Quincy, Sam. She's in her bedroom.

What time is it?

It's 12:41.

I want temperatures, I want the room diagrammed.

Who's the photographer? Me, Quincy.

All right, Ed, start shooting. Don't miss a spangle.

Who else we got? Freddy Voss.

Get him in here.

Right here, Dr. Quincy.

Oh, God.

All right. Now, I know it's tough

but don't... don't think about who she is. Just do your job.

Sam, I want you and Freddy to start bagging and labeling the glass.

I want a clear diagram of where every sliver of glass was found, okay?

Watch where you step, Ed.

Okay.

All right?

Well, where you been?

In the living room checking out the mother. And?

She's too loaded to make much sense.

But she reported it, didn't she?

Yeah.

If she's sober enough to dial a telephone,

she's sober enough to talk. Give me two minutes.

Well, Quincy, what's the good news?

I'd like to make it simple for you, Monahan, and say suicide,

but there are too many problems.

A contusion at the corner of her eye

with incipient swelling.

There's a crashed mirror here. I don't know.

Could be suicide, could be homicide,

could be accidental.

Well, that narrows it down real nice.

Well, you're gonna have an autopsy report

in a couple of hours.

And these are what, her cigar band collection?

They're pills to cure migraines.

Pills to ease muscle spasms,

and pills to unclog nasal passages.

And there was an empty Scotch bottle found in the bathroom.

Now, all that booze and all these pills,

add 'em all up, Quincy. What do you got?

You still got nothing, Monahan, that would kill her.

Mrs. Rhodes, It. Monahan.

This is Dr. Quincy, our medical examiner.

My condolences, Mrs. Rhodes.

Are you all right?

Yes. Tell me what happened.

Well, it has the appearance

of acute barbiturate intoxication.

Suicide.

I can't say yet.

There is a strong possibility.

When I think of all we went through to put you up there.

What a waste.

Well, if you're through, get out.

All right, look! Come on!

I'm Dr. Quincy.

I'm the presiding medical officer.

The victim has been positively identified

as Roberta Rhodes, actress.

She died within an hour or two of midnight.

That's all I have to say now. Thank you.

Dr. Quincy, any truth to the rumor

that the body of Miss Rhodes was found completely naked?

Oh, come on, Clarence.

That tactic is wearing pretty thin, isn't it?

Why not talk to one of the younger fellas?

They might help you update your act.

Doctor, given the hour and the extreme amount of time you spent inside,

you must have some opinion.

Oh, I have an opinion.

I think we've lost a very nice lady.

Now excuse me, please.

Cute.

Come on, Doc. You've always leveled with us.

Give us a story.

Un-Unofficially, Quince, is it a sex case?

Doctor Quincy, how'd it feel to perform an autopsy

on one of the most beautiful women in the world?

Don't you ever say anything like that to me again.

Do you understand that? Ever.

Pathetic.

Have any luck downstairs?

Nah, they got the goon squad sealing off the lab.

You let that stop you?

I think I've found a very good possibility:

a young kid in investigator training.

If he's handled right,

he can keep us very well informed.

Well, that will help.

I've never seen such tight security.

Do you think that they connected Mr. Wonderful to that bedroom last night?

No. If they knew, they'd interrogate him.

Right now, he's carrying on his business as usual.

So let's print it, anyway.

And get what? Another denial?

No, I want his name on police reports,

on coroner's reports. Then I'll print it.

What did you scratch up about this Quincy?

Well, he stepped out of a very lucrative private practice to do this.

Makes about a tenth of what he could.

A man of character.

Refreshing.

Quincy, I just want you to know

that you have my full support in the preparation of your evidence.

I mean, I really, really appreciate the pressures on you and...

Well, we get used to those things, don't we?

And, given time, we put all the pieces together.

I guess I'm just not making myself clear.

We don't have any time, Quincy.

I mean, I, uh, just spoke to Dep. Mayor Lefeber about the inquest...

What inquest? We don't have a case. What're you talking about?

Let's not get upset.

Now, this case is just too big for us

to be sitting around on our evidence.

Our evidence? What evidence?

We have a smashed mirror with no apparent cause,

an unexplained contusion, a fresh copy of the Outcry

with a picture of Roberta Rhodes on the front page, and this.

T-that's an empty evidence bag.

That's right. It should contain an empty barbiturate bottle

but it doesn't, because there was none at the scene.

And so, for my next step,

I'm gonna go home and go to sleep

because I can't even think straight anymore.

Quincy.

Good idea. You just get some rest.

I just wanted to mention that Dep. Mayor Lefeber

is already requesting a jury.

Why don't you tell the Deputy Mayor to turn blue?

Good night.

There isn't even a case, and he wants me to...

It's exhaustion, Sam.

Well, once you get a couple hours of shuteye,

you'll feel better.

Not me, Quincy. Oh, good grief.

Dr. Quincy, Paul Reardon of Outcry.

No comment.

Well, I'm not trying to pester you into comment, Doctor.

I was hoping you'd be receptive to one of mine.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you.

Doctor, I have highly confidential information

concerning Miss Rhodes' death.

Someone was with her last night when she died.

A lover.

Who?

Oh, well, not so fast, Doctor.

This information is worth an exclusive.

An exclusive? For the Outcry?

Isn't that the paper that reports love affairs

between movie stars who never even met one another?

You know, Doctor, our newspaper

has the largest circulation

of any newspaper in the United States.

Now, I know that's hard to believe,

but we are very important to people because we publish

what other newspapers are afraid to print.

Or too honest to print.

Now, aren't you pre-judging what I'm about to say?

For instance, what would the public think when they learn

that Miss Rhodes was with Congressman Charles Sinclair

when she died?

Reardon, you'd better get out of here

before I lose my temper.

Now, we have reason to believe

that he's implicated in a lot more than suicide.

Then why don't you go to the police? I dare you.

Well, we're a weekly, Doctor. If I went to the police

it would be in every headline before I could publish it.

And you think I'm gonna sit on this news?

Well, yes, because you don't believe me.

So you'll check it out.

You really are very sure of yourself, aren't you?

No, I'm sure of you.

I happen to know that you know the Congressman personally.

You better get out of here, Reardon. Now.

You know, it's not going to look good, Doctor, when the public knows

that you deliberately covered up information.

And I'm telling you

Charles Sinclair was with Roberta Rhodes in her bedroom

last night.

Look, Charlie, drop spot number six.

Nobody wants to hear about it.

Number six. Wait a minute.

That's the offshore oil spot. That's vital here, Pat.

They just had a big spill in Oxnard last week.

Research says it's a negative.

Everybody's more concerned about gasoline shortages.

Pat, we have to talk about this.

Use it at the colleges, if you want to,

but we're not gonna buy airtime

to promote a negative issue.

Camera one, give me a full shot.

Hey, Congressman.

Camera two, zoom in,

Quincy, what the heck are you doing here?

Don't you need votes?

Well, sure, but, uh, you wouldn't vote for me.

You doctors are all rich and conservative.

I'm a flaming liberal, haven't you heard?

Well, I'm not exactly a medical mogul.

I did give up my practice.

You gave up medicine?

No, I joined the Coroner's Office.

I'm a medical examiner. You're kidding.

Why would I kid about a thing like that?

Listen, I heard what you've been saying

about the offshore oil safeguards.

I agree. I live at the beach. You couldn't be more right.

Keep saying it and don't listen to your friend.

We'll stay on it. Maybe not with, uh, paid spots but, uh,

I'm gonna get that legislation up when I'm elected.

If anybody can.

Can I buy you some coffee? You sure can.

Good to see you. Same here.

I'm sorry to hear about you and Charlotte, the separation.

Well, you knew that there were some problems between us.

Yes.

You know, each wanting different things.

You know, I don't begrudge her

her wanting to spend her life skiing,

but, you know, I'm a professional meddler.

If I can't be busy changing the world for the better,

I'm not happy.

Listen to me, campaigning!

And always making sense.

Which makes my reason for being here more absurd,

but I gotta do it, Charlie.

I gotta ask you something. It's my job.

Your job? What does the Coroner's Office have to do with me?

Roberta Rhodes.

Cameras. Position one. Stand by to roll,

I see.

Charles, we're just about ready to roll tape.

Yeah, I'll be with you in a minute.

Uh, Quince,

I know Roberta. I... I knew her.

We were... We were even seeing each other for a while.

Is that what you wanted to ask me about?

That, and did you see her last night?

Good heavens, no. I haven't seen her for weeks.

We broke it off when I announced my candidacy.

Then you can account for last night?

Absolutely.

I was at campaign headquarters all evening

with a couple of dozen people.

Charles, do you have any idea

how much this studio costs an hour?

All right, go to work, go to work, will you, Congressman?

God, it is good to see you.

Why don't you stick around...

No, I gotta get back to work.

Lunch sometime? We'll have a talk.

I'm gonna count on it. You gonna vote for me?

You do the right things, I will.

30 seconds to tape.

My daughter was murdered

by Congressman Charles Sinclair.

I don't understand something, Mrs. Rhodes.

Uh, why now? Why didn't you tell us this last night?

I... I was afraid. I can't tell you how afraid I was.

Oh, it... it's no secret.

He and Roberta were having an affair.

And this worried his political backers,

and they insisted that it end.

You see, she wasn't good enough,

she wasn't clean enough,

for their paragon of human virtue.

Early last evening, Roberta went to his apartment.

And I don't know, something must've happened

because he followed her back here around 10:00.

I saw him arrive in that Jaguar he drives.

It's a mean-sounding car.

I... l... l never mistake that sound,

They haven't let up for weeks, and they're not going to!

Roberta, you're being silly and hysterical.

I'm not!

That newspaper has made me look like a prostitute!

You could stop them, Charles, I know you could.

Look at me.

Roberta, look at me.

I'm running for the United States Senate.

I could very well lose.

Now we can't afford to be seen together,

not while this scandal sheet's on us.

And not until Charlotte and I are divorced.

It wouldn't matter if you loved me.

Stop being infantile.

My backers have read me the riot act.

I've got to clean up my life!

Clean up your life?

Am I the dirt in your life?

Is that what that means?

Exactly! I clean it up or they're finished with me!

Stop that! Leave her alone. Get out!

Don't hurt me, Charlie, please. Stop it!

Stop it, Charlie. Don't!

And when I came to,

he was standing over her and she was dead.

What did you do?

I pretended I was still unconscious

until after he'd gone.

Mrs. Rhodes, would you show us where the Congressman hit you?

Yes, certainly. It's...

It's a bad bruise, Quincy.

I'm sorry.

And then later on,

uh, after he'd gone, I telephoned the police.

And between then and the time that you arrived,

one of Charles' henchmen phoned me

and threatened my life

if I were to tell you what I'm telling you now.

You have no idea who threatened you?

No.

No, except that he... he said he worked for Charles.

He had a very deep voice

and his language was obscene.

All right, Mrs. Rhodes, we'll give you round-the-clock protection.

Oh, thank you, Lieutenant.

What's with you, Quincy? You sick?

I don't believe her.

I knew Charles Sinclair in the days when he was a public defender.

Which explains your objectivity.

Listen, now, I know you gotta speak to the Congressman,

but will you be soft?

For once, will you be discreet?

I appreciate it, Quincy.

I'm always soliciting good advice on how to do my job.

Will you listen to me?

There are newspapers in this town that are laying for him.

If they even get a hint

that he was with Roberta Rhodes on the night of her death

they'll crucify him!

This is hard evidence, Quincy.

Concrete, stand-up-in-court testimony.

You know why she wanted me here.

I say "murder," she gets $2 million.

I say "suicide," she gets nothing.

She made a formal statement, in writing.

I don't care if it's written in blood.

I spoke to Charles Sinclair this morning.

He told me he hasn't seen her for weeks, and I believe him!

You spoke to Charles Sinclair this morning?

Well, he's an old pal.

You knew about him and Roberta Rhodes?

Reardon, you know, the Outcry, he tipped me, and...

Quincy, you hear me, and hear me good.

The next time you get tipped, no matter how or who,

I want that information on my desk

immediately, and not two hours later.

And if it happens again, I'm citing you on suppression of evidence.

Are you trying to tell me that you've been here...

Oh, honey, look at all this scraping you did all by yourself.

I told you not to do that.

I don't mind.

Besides, I got some sleep.

Yeah, I'll bet you did. Wow, look at this!

You did the work of four sailors.

Look at those calluses. Oh.

And look what's rolling in.

Where?

Up there. Clouds.

They're beautiful.

Might even be the kinds that have the silver linings.

Will you cut it out. You know what happens if rain hits the bare wood?

They're gonna swell, they're gonna warp.

They'll get to look like roof shingles.

You mean we did all this work just to ruin your ship?

Oh, no, honey. I didn't mean anything like that. We'll beat it.

I've just gotta get some varnish down before the trouble comes in.

But I can't.

Something's wrong?

Well, it's...

Oh, Quincy, go do it.

You're no good to me the way you are.

I'll varnish.

Sure, I'm gonna let you varnish

after you did all this scraping all by yourself.

Quincy, go.

I am gonna go.

But you gotta promise me that you're gonna sit right here

and do nothing but sunbathe, understand?

I want you to relax and sunbathe. Here, read a magazine.

Not that one. Here.

The Handyman.

Quincy!

Charlie.

What in the world? I don't see you for three years,

and you turn up twice in one day.

I have to talk to you, Charlie.

Sure, come on in. Can I get you a beer or something?

Right now, the only thing I have a taste for is the truth.

You happen to have any of that on hand?

Roberta?

Yep, Roberta.

Quincy, I told you, I haven't seen her...

Charlie, the police are on their way here.

They have a sworn statement that you killed her.

Killed her?

That's right.

Quince...

Who would say such a thing?

Her mother.

Funny.

You take people for granted, then you turn around

and they've got your life in their hands.

Remember the old adage: "Be nice to people on the way up

because they can kill you on the way down"?

You know, I always just dismissed her

as a harmless, irrelevant drunk.

Well, a drunk she may be,

but her testimony is far from irrelevant.

But it's not true, Quincy!

Look, I don't know why she lied,

but you gotta believe me.

I couldn't kill Bobbi. I loved her.

You loved her?

Yes, I did.

But you did stop seeing her?

Quincy, there are some things that are very hard to explain.

Charlie, It. Monahan will be here any minute.

Now, mom's not having trouble.

She has an explanation for everything.

Well, look, I don't understand her statement!

Why?

I know she didn't approve of many men in Bobbi's life,

but to accuse me of murder is crazy!

I think I can fill in the "why."

But I want you to understand the position you're putting yourself in,

if any of your story is untrue.

Now, that's It. Monahan.

Are we ready for him?

Okay.

Quince. What?

I did lie.

What?

Not about killing her. That's... But I saw her.

When? Last night.

Quince, I'm sorry.

Look, it just seemed so innocent. I thought...

No, it... it was too much of a nightmare to repeat.

People just wouldn't understand.

Well, you're gonna have to give them a chance.

Oh, if you'll excuse my rudeness, gentlemen.

I, uh, I tried your front door,

but it doesn't seem to work,

and your driver, I believe, he was kind enough

to let us come up the back way. I hope you don't mind.

No, it's all right. I was engrossed in a conversation

with my old friend. I'm Charles Sinclair.

Oh, yes, surely. It. Monahan.

Uh, this is Sgt. Brill,

Charles Sinclair. And this is Miss Polk.

Sit down, would you? You don't mind, Congressman?

Sit down, Miss Polk.

Miss Polk's my stenographer.

Well, now, I trust you two gentlemen

have come up with, uh, something quotable.

Hold it there, Monahan, I resent that. There's been no...

Never mind what you resent.

I resent private investigating on public time.

Now, I think it only fair to inform you, Congressman,

that you've been formally accused

of murdering Roberta Rhodes by her mother.

And, uh, Miss Polk here,

she has a, uh, typed copy of her testimony,

which you can either accept or deny.

I suggest you read it.

That won't be necessary. Quincy's already filled me in.

Oh, he has, has he?

Well, then, that should make it a lot easier for you.

What have you to say to the allegation?

It's a blatant lie.

All right. Now, if it wouldn't inconvenience

our City Medical Examiner,

the Police Department would like hearing your story firsthand.

Miss Polk here, she'll take it down for public record.

Public record?

Come on, Monahan, you can't...

Naturally, Congressman, I'll keep all the facts

as confidential as I can.

Providing it all seems to work out.

We appreciate that. And so will Chief Thomas.

And the Mayor and the Governor,

they're enthusiastic supporters of Chuck's.

Quincy, Lieutenant, Pat Doyle, my campaign manager.

How do you do?

Pretend like I'm not even here.

You go right ahead with your statement.

And let the record show it's completely voluntary.

We're all very anxious for this matter

to be completely put to rest, you understand?

You were about to say something, Charlie?

Tell us about last night.

Well, uh, she was demanding more of me.

She wanted more, some sort of commitment.

She came here to the apartment last night.

She was depressed and angry.

Bobbi, you know you're not to come here.

There could be reporters following you.

What do you expect?

That was a Dear John phone call.

You don't even have the decency to tell me to my face?

For once, will you face the realities?

I'm running for the Senate. That is my life.

What about my life? What about my career?

I can't even get a decent picture anymore, Charlie.

What's happened to us?

We love each other.

The campaign happened.

I went for a swim this morning

and do you know that there were reporters in the trees?

We can stop them.

All we have to do is tell them the truth.

That we love each other.

I'm being threatened with the loss of my major supporters.

That means I could lose it all!

And I've worked hard for it.

What about what I've worked hard for, huh?

Everything that I've worked for is right down the drain now.

I could get it back, though.

All I'd have to do is have a talk with Reardon about us.

What is that?

You wouldn't do that.

Why not?

They're only after me because of you.

And you're just like all the rest of them.

My mother, the studio, all of them.

They're takers. Every single one of them.

Well, I'm sick and tired of giving!

If you walk out on me, Charlie,

I'll give Outcry everything it wants.

That's absurd. Now, just stop it!

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

You don't love me anymore.

It's over, isn't it?

You don't even have the guts to say it.

It's all right.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

Bobbi.

Why, Charlie? Why?

Please, Bobbi. I just can't...

For a while, she couldn't control her crying.

Then she seemed to calm down

and she went into the bathroom to fix herself up.

She fixed herself up and then drove home?

Yes.

Later that night, about 12:30,

when I was driving from a campaign meeting,

I heard the news of her death over the car radio.

I immediately drove up to Benedict Canyon

and saw what was going on.

I heard all sorts of rumors:

murder, suicide, drug overdose,

attempted rape, the works.

And then I drove home.

I'll never forget that drive home.

Charlie, why didn't you come forward with this last night?

The Congressman's actions

were perfectly understandable, Doctor.

He was just trying to avoid unnecessary involvement

in a death that he had nothing to do with.

Well, why don't you let him speak for himself?

He's right, Quincy.

I was afraid.

That, uh, bruise under her eye.

She didn't have that when she was with you last night?

No.

No.

Oh, you were there, too, Mr. Doyle?

She didn't have it, Quincy.

Well, I think that'll be enough for now.

I, uh, I'm leaving, Doctor.

Are you a house guest?

No, I'm leaving.

Congressman, Mr. Doyle, I'll keep in touch.

So, this is the lab report on the Rhodes telephone.

There were slivers of glass embedded in the phone case.

And there were no fingerprints.

Clearly, it was the phone that broke the mirror.

That means that Mrs. Rhodes was telling the truth.

It means that it's homicide, clear and simple.

I am telling Lefeber that we are ready to go...

Wait a minute, will you?

Maybe Roberta Rhodes threw the telephone

at the mirror in a fit of temper.

Against whom? Her mother?

Why not? Why not?

Or maybe she was angry at the person at the other end of the phone.

That's a lot better explanation

for throwing a Princess telephone than self-defense.

Quincy, what's it going to take?

I can't hold Lefeber off any longer.

And when he hears about Mrs. Rhodes...

Time.

All I'm asking for, is a little time.

Don't pick up the phone and say we're ready when we're not.

I mean, if he forces the issue,

I'll understand. I promise you that.

No heel-dragging?

No heel-dragging.

You'll get in line? Get in line.

Take your licks? Take my licks.

With the rest of the team.

Yes. Just give me a little time, that's all.

You let me in or I start busting heads.

All right. I don't call the Deputy Mayor.

But if he calls me, I'm not giving him any more excuses.

Okay.

Quincy, we've got a problem on the second floor.

A guy trying to get in to see Roberta Rhodes.

Says he's her husband.

Oh, no.

Do you have any say here?

Yes, I do, Mister Tucker.

Okay, I recognize him. So long, fellas.

I guess they're not football fans.

See, the press has been using any ruse they can

to get in here and take pictures.

Look, all I wanna do is see Bobbi.

Okay, I'll make the arrangements. Come on.

Her mother's gonna want a circus.

Roberta wouldn't want that.

But I guess it'll be what she gets.

Well, it's really up to what you and Mrs. Rhodes decide.

Ex-husbands don't count for much, Doc.

But if there's anything that needs to be done,

any expenses, anything,

I'll be there.

I'll always be there, honey.

When did you find out about it?

Yesterday.

Oh, do I have an alibi?

I was in Europe.

Oh, I didn't mean anything like that, honest.

She loved violets.

We're gonna have to see that she gets fresh violets every day.

Maybe you could see that Mrs. Rhodes gets this.

It was one of Roberta's favorites.

I think she might want it placed

where people could see it.

"We are most of us very lonely in this world.

"Those of you who have loved ones, cling to them

and thank God."

Did she take her own life?

We don't know yet.

I'll be around.

I don't get it. W-What does it mean?

It means my job,

if anyone finds out I showed you this.

It doesn't hit the street for two days.

Well, it's not right.

Quincy's a good guy. He's not... he's not involved in any conspiracy.

You don't have to tell me about Quincy.

From what I hear, he is the best.

But my boss is out to bring down Congressman Sinclair

and he doesn't care if he crushes Quincy along the way.

Well, who the hell is your boss

that gives him the right to print that kind of thing?

Uh, Mr. Reardon, my boss,

has almost got the proof we need

that Sinclair murdered Roberta Rhodes.

Oh, come on, Quincy's not even sure it's murder.

Mr. Reardon has got a tape that would change your mind.

Would change Quincy's mind, too, but he doesn't trust him.

He thinks he's part of the cover-up.

Now I personally do not believe that.

I think that I can get Mr. Reardon

to kill this story, forget about Quincy,

and go after Sinclair with both barrels,

if you will just give us a little help.

Wait a minute.

I just saw his office door open. He's free.

Now, are you with me or not?

What is it?

This is Freddy Voss.

He works for Dr. Quincy down at the Coroner's Office.

I have nothing further to say to Dr. Quincy,

or to any of his subordinates.

He wants to help us.

Look, I gave Quincy a chance.

I told him what was going on.

He chose to ignore me.

Or he was ordered to.

Mr. Reardon, I've done some checking, and I am convinced

that Dr. Quincy would welcome someone

blowing the lid off the Sinclair case.

Right now, his hands are tied.

He'd lose his job if he revealed his findings.

And he sent this man to leak the truth to us?

Oh, no, no, no...

No, he can't know about this arrangement.

It would put him in a... a terrible spot.

Uh, Freddy here would have to do that on his own.

What, you mean me leak official records?

Yeah, well, I don't know that I'm interested.

I'm not sure I want to let Quincy keep his job.

Mr. Reardon, I'm trying to tell you

Dr. Quincy is caught in a vise,

and unless we let Freddy, here,

leak us the reports as they become available to...

No, no, no. I... I... I don't know if I can do that, Floyd.

He doesn't know?

You offer him a deal

and he reneges before I even accept it.

Now will you just get out of here, Floyd?

This headline runs. And we go after Quincy.

Now, wait a second. Maybe I'd be willing to help, sir,

if I could only hear the tape.

You told him about the tape?

Mr. Reardon, I'm sorry. You see, I thought...

Floyd, please, leave us.

I wanna talk to Mr. Voss. Alone.

I'm sorry, Mr. Reardon.

I just wanted to keep a nice guy from getting hurt.

Mr. Reardon, he was only trying to help.

I promise I won't tell anyone.

Yes, well, the damage is done.

Looks like I'm forced to trust you.

Look at that date.

The 19th.

The night Roberta died.

Yes?

Hello, Miss Rhodes, Paul Reardon. How are you?

How am I? I'm exhausted.

Exhausted? Whatever from?

You've ruined everything.

Oh, Miss Rhodes, I don't think that's quite fair.

Wouldn't it be more accurate to say that Mr. Charles Sinclair...

Please, Mr. Reardon, I'm scared,

Scared for my life.

Is that why you don't want to talk?

Because Mr. Sinclair threatened your life?

Please.

Well, has he or hasn't he?

Has Mr. Sinclair threatened your life?

Yes.

Oh, you poor thing,

I can understand your terror,

It's hard to believe.

A man who wants to become a senator so much,

he doesn't care whether people like you,

people who care about him,

wind up by the wayside.

Now, if I may make a suggestion or two,

in your own interest, of course, and 1...

Miss Rhodes?

Are you still there, Miss Rhodes?

Any questions?

What do you want from me?

I'll keep Quincy from getting caught in a squeeze

if you get me everything that comes out of the Coroner's Office

that they turn up with during their investigation.

All right.

Okay.

I just hope I've done the right thing protecting Quincy.

You have.

Floyd, I want you in my office right now.

You did very nicely, Floyd.

You have real flair.

I think you're gonna do very well on this paper.

Dr. Quincy, I'd like you to meet Roy Keefer,

Ball Group, CB Life and Casualty.

How are you, Doc? We're the carriers for Roberta Rhodes.

Well, you're a fast-moving outfit.

What can I do for you?

You know, six months ago, she, uh,

insured her life with us for $1 million.

Now, I'm sure I look pretty foolish spouting law

to men of your profession,

but a suicide would terminate our obligation

to pay the death benefit.

And murder would mean a $2 million double indemnity.

If indeed it is a murder.

But according to Dr. Astin's description of barbiturate poisoning,

that would, uh, make that seem most unlikely, wouldn't you say?

Unlikely, yes.

Impossible, no.

Excuse me a minute, sir. Sure.

What's going on here?

That insurance brokerage, as a private carrier

has no right to anything until it's announced.

Really, Doctor, I've known Roy Keefer for 20 years.

He's a reputable broker and a darn nice guy.

Now, what's the harm?

The harm is he's private business,

has no right inside these gates!

Doctor, your nerves are showing.

I would remember that we are all

on the same side.

Then he'll understand why he's out.

Mr. Keefer.

Doctor.

The slide you're looking at, that was taken

from the contusion at the corner of Miss Rhodes' eye.

Sam and I guessed jewelers' alloy last night.

And Sam's powwow with the metallurgist confirms it.

All right, now, what I see here is that

she was, uh, struck by a piece of jewelry,

no doubt connected to some human appendage.

And not too long before she died.

Otherwise, the swelling on her eye

would've been more than incipient.

Put the, uh, photo enlargement on the screen.

I want him to see the impact pattern.

It looks as if someone's ring

caught her just beside the supraorbital ridge.

But then we could have murder.

Well, we could have. We could have.

Right now, all we have is that someone struck her.

Well, right, but one thing certainly suggests the other.

Don't jump. Maybe, maybe not.

Now, wait a minute. What kind of an answer is that?

The evidence is clear. Quincy, why are you hedging?

The contusion under her eye. It's more than two hours old.

She had it when she was with Charles Sinclair.

He lied, all right?

We were very good friends, the three of us,

he, his wonderful wife, Charlotte, and myself.

I remember the day she gave him a ring.

He loved it.

He still wears it.

It's gold and it's platinum.

The same alloy that struck Miss Rhodes.

Certainly, Dr. Astin. I'll be happy to cooperate.

We sink in deeper with every lie.

Take off the ring and give it to me.

Why?

"Why?"

Because I've busted my butt giving you four months

of the best political management money can buy!

Because of me you can win, Charlie-boy.

Now, pull yourself together.

Look, she's dead.

There's nothing we can do now to change it.

You're all muscle and bone, aren't you, Doyle?

You don't understand a thing.

I understand it, Charlie.

Now you understand me.

There's no time and no money for losers!

If you want that Senate seat, you do exactly as I say.

Stop thinking like a loser, Charlie.

Give me the ring.

What do you think you're doing?

What does it look like I'm doing?

I'm varnishing.

I know how to walk on a varnished boat.

You told me you were gonna sunbathe, that you were gonna relax.

You weren't gonna do anything.

No. That's what you told me I was going to do.

But this is what I'm doing.

All right. Give me that brush.

No, no, get your own brush.

Come on. Varnishing's what we decided

to do in the first place, so let's do it.

Can't talk you out of it?

No.

You know something?

You're a very beautiful girl, but you're very stubborn, too.

Yeah?

Quincy, this is Sam, You'd better come right away.

It's very important.

What have you got, Sam?

It's a match on the Congressman's ring, Quince.

The ridges on the design face

fit the shape of the contusion perfectly.

The Congressman had to be the one who hit her.

And the epidermal tracings? Nothing.

No skin oils, no residues.

It's gotta be the cleanest ring in North America.

Sure. He cleaned it before he gave it to you.

Quince, you're gonna tell It. Monahan, aren't you?

The ring, Quince.

It's handmade, the only one like it in the world.

It's the kind of evidence cops love.

It only proves he bopped her. It doesn't prove he killed her.

It doesn't even place him at the scene.

Look, I know he lied to us,

but I just can't believe he killed Roberta Rhodes, that's all.

Quincy.

I'll tell him, Sam. I will tell him.

First thing in the morning.

Oh, no, wait a minute. Where'd you park that hearse?

How many times do I have to tell you...

Did you park in front again?

Don't hassle me, will you?

Here are the keys. Park it wherever you want.

I own the place, I tend bar, wash dishes...

Hey, Doc, remember me?

Oh, you're a hard man to forget.

Keefer, and you're in insurance.

I'm flattered. I'm flattered. How are you, Doctor?

This is Danielle De Soto. Dr. Quincy.

How do you do?

It's her pleasure. Why don't you join us?

No. Whenever I duck in here for a drink, I never talk business.

It'll just take a second. It's kind of important.

I've been doing some research on you.

On me?

Mmm-hmm. You know something?

You are almost broke.

Always.

What else did you find out about me?

Well, you're a contradiction.

One minute you're banging on the gates of hell,

the next you're bucking for sainthood.

Well, you know what they say about variety.

Yes, sir, it's a great aphrodisiac.

You know something else I found out about you, too?

You're very active in trying to keep alive

a camp for 200 needy kids up in Monterey.

Oh, here's your drink. Scotch and water.

Wow! You really are thorough, aren't you?

But the camp is gonna go under.

It won't last out the summer.

I was talking with one of my vice-presidents.

The guy is crazy about kids.

Absolutely crazy about kids.

He said he'd like to contribute about, uh, oh, $250,000.

Keep that camp going for a lot of years.

In exchange for?

The truth.

A suicide verdict in the Roberta Rhodes death.

You're trying to bribe me.

That's right.

But if you tell anybody, I'll deny it.

Yeah, but I got a witness.

Well, well, what do you say?

Absolutely not.

Absolutely...

You know, you are a child.

You're a 6-year-old kid who lives in a Never-Never Land.

Don't you ever look out from under those covers

and see what's happening in the real world?

I'm talking about $2 million.

$2 million!

Do you know that I could have somebody killed for $2,000?

I could have a contract out on somebody for $2,000

and have 100 guys standing in line

waiting to take the job.

That doesn't make you right and me wrong.

Right or wrong? Do you think Reardon

was interested in what's right or wrong?

Do you think Roberta Rhodes' mother

is interested in what's right or wrong?

She would lie, steal, cheat, suppress any evidence she can

to get her hands on that money.

But she's predictable. We can handle her.

But you, you idealists, you're gonna bankrupt us.

Why don't you try taking for a change?

Maybe you'll like it.

Mr. Keefer!

Didn't he forget something?

No.

I'm afraid he did.

Are you sure?

Yes, I'm sure.

Excuse me.

Very nice meeting you, it really was.

Oh, Hi, Lee. Lee, I'd like you to meet...

I'm sorry. What's your name again?

Danielle. Oh, De Soto.

Yes, like the car. I remember.

Very nice meeting you. This is Lee...

You won't believe this.

An insurance guy comes in here...

There're no strings on either of us, Quince. Your life is your own.

Only, please, not while I'm varnishing your lousy boat!

Will you listen to me? Quincy.

Just a minute, will you?

Listen, I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds,

but I want you to listen to this. Come on.

Honey, I want to explain the lady there. I mean, I never...

.right now, Jerry.

What is this dramatic breakthrough?

We have incontrovertible evidence that Roberta Rhodes

was savagely beaten moments before her death.

Microscopic analysis of a ring

belonging to a major political figure

was performed by the City Coroner.

This analysis proves that it was this political figure,

wearing this ring who mercilessly beat

and subsequently murdered Roberta Rhodes

by forced barbiturate poisoning,

To whom does this ring belong?

Congressman Charles Sinclair.

What's this all about? Quincy?

Adam, Sam, I want everybody in here.

Every doctor, every janitor, every secretary, every technician.

And I want them here on the double!

Bad news travels faster than I do.

How could you do it? A piece of evidence like that ring.

How could you hold that back from me?

Look, I only got the report two hours ago.

You were home then, not at the station.

Besides, I knew there was an explanation for this.

I thought I might find out what it was.

By morning, no doubt.

You are not a district attorney.

You are not a detective. You are a scientist.

Your job is to interpret evidence, not conceal it.

But Charlie Sinclair is a friend of mine!

Look, your friend lied to you on two separate occasions.

What makes you think he's not gonna try for three?

He may have changed, but he's not a murderer.

Clara Rhodes saw him hit Roberta Rhodes

and force barbiturates down her throat

and I believe her.

And I don't.

Fellows, you'll both have your day in court.

The inquest goes tomorrow morning.

What?

Did you think I could hold Lefeber off after this bombshell?

But I need more time!

Oh, really?

A few hours ago, you seemed to think

you could handle everything before morning.

Well, that's what you have: until tomorrow morning.

There are some of you here

whose face and name I don't know.

I'm gonna have to do something about that,

because we're a family.

Now, nobody's gonna ever accuse you of being overpaid.

We all know there's a lot more money to be made on the outside.

Any of you want a piece of that action,

nobody can fault you for going after it.

But if you choose to stay here,

then you must not, you cannot,

violate the code of confidentiality that exists in this office.

It's just too darned important!

A leak from this office can let a murderer go free to murder again.

A man is gonna have to face a coroner's inquest

and probably be indicted for murder.

I happen to think he's innocent,

but I needed more time to prove it.

One of you took that time away from me and him.

One of you disgraced this office,

and whoever you are, you better get out of here,

and you better get out of here now.

Go back to work.

I am Robert J. Astin. A-S-T-I-N.

I'm the Administrative Deputy Coroner for the City of Los Angeles.

The purpose of any inquest

is to bring to light pertinent information surrounding a death.

Now, with us, at the Mayor's request, is a standing jury

who will hear, examine the evidence,

and recommend to the District Attorney

whether or not he should proceed

upon an investigation of murder.

Now, this is not a court of law,

but it is a legal court of inquiry.

Dr. Quincy is the presiding medical examiner.

It. Monahan, the police homicide liaison.

And, uh, let the record show

that one of the subpoenaed witnesses, Charles Sinclair

is not in attendance.

The bailiff will make every attempt to please find out why

and notify the appropriate marshals.

Dr. Quincy, would you state for this body the official cause of death?

Miss Rhodes' death was caused

by an overdose of barbiturates.

I believe they were self-administered

and with forethought. Her intent, suicide.

Order. Order.

It. Monahan, is the Police Department

in agreement with this finding?

No, we are not.

While an overdose of barbiturates is what killed Miss Rhodes,

there is circumstantial evidence and conflicting testimony

which makes it impossible for my office

to dismiss the feasibility of murder.

Order.

Then it is the immediate task of this body

to examine that evidence and testimony.

No empty barbiturate container

was found anywhere about the bedroom or the premises.

Now, there was a dressing room mirror that was shattered,

we believe, by a thrown telephone.

And the telephone in question

was wiped clean of fingerprints

by a party, or parties, unknown.

There was a fresh bruise

at the corner of Miss Rhodes' eye. In studying the bruise,

Dr. Quincy and I discovered platinum-gold tracings.

This, with the pattern of the contusion,

suggested that she'd been hit by a piece of jewelry,

probably a ring.

Then you compared the contusion

with the ring worn by Congressman Sinclair

and discovered what?

It was a perfect match.

Mrs. Rhodes, in your statement

you allege that Charles Sinclair

was beating your daughter when you entered.

You attempted saving her, and you yourself were beaten unconscious.

Yes.

He... he struck me with his fist.

Right... right there.

If there're no further questions, Lieutenant.

I have none.

And you, Dr. Quincy?

Oh, yes, yes.

Yes.

Mrs. Rhodes, I understand that your daughter's life

was recently insured for $1 million.

Y-Yes.

R-Roberta knew that if anything happened to her,

that I'd be left with nothing.

I-It was at her urging, actually.

The policy is, what, about six months old?

So the decision this panel makes

is rather important to you, isn't it?

Suicide releases the insurance company

from paying the death benefit,

and murder means double indemnity.

That's a $2 million double indemnity.

Yes, that's a-all the m-more reason

why Roberta would never take her own life.

Sh-She loved me.

Why should she take out such a policy

if-if she was the kind of girl who was going to kill herself

and leave me all alone with nothing?

Uh, we had a reporter watching her house day and night.

He saw Sinclair arrive and go inside.

Was this alleged reporter on the property?

No. He was outside the fence, on public property.

However, Miss Rhodes' bedroom opens into a corridor

which can be observed through glass doors.

He used a, uh, telephoto lens.

Do you have the pictures?

Unfortunately, no.

Well, he's new.

He used the wrong exposure.

Let the record show that our lab technicians

were unable to see in Miss Rhodes' bedroom

from outside the fence, even while using a telephoto lens.

Order. Order.

Let the record also show that this is hearsay.

For all we know, complete fabrication.

If there really is a reporter who saw the murder

why isn't he here now?

He is.

I was there.

I saw Congressman Sinclair go into the house.

I only saw half the room, but it was the busy half.

I have never been so frightened in my entire life.

I heard screaming and crying.

And then it was quiet.

It was a long time before the Congressman left.

Dr. Astin?

Why didn't you take this information to the police?

I was afraid.

Aw! Afraid?

For your life? Come on, now.

I didn't mean I was afraid of losing my life.

I was afraid of losing my job.

You see, I wasn't standing on the street,

as I told Mr. Reardon.

When I saw the Congressman arrive

and I heard the screaming,

I moved in closer, right onto private property.

That's when I saw the Congressman

standing over Miss Rhodes' body.

She was not moving.

I knew I could be fired

if I told anyone exactly what I saw.

Mr. Reardon has very strict rules.

Do you know what the penalty is for perjury?

Dr. Astin, I must protest.

Dr. Astin, the Outcry has stolen confidential documents

from the Coroner's Office.

Now I believe they have resorted to perjury!

Doctor, may I speak?

No, I haven't finished yet!

Quincy. Quincy.

You may speak, Mr. Reardon, if it's pertinent.

It is very pertinent!

Now, this personal cohort of Charles Sinclair

is confusing issues

in an attempt to delay these proceedings.

We have two eyewitnesses to murder

right here in this room: Clara Rhodes and Floyd Baker.

Now, with the lethal ring already in evidence,

what more does the District Attorney need

to initiate a warrant for murder?

Order! Order! Order!

Mr. Reardon, your observations notwithstanding,

this inquiry will determine

what the District Attorney needs.

Dr. Quincy, do you have any further questions?

No, sir.

It. Monahan, do you have any further questions?

None.

Well, it's already, uh,

two-and-a-half minutes past noon.

I suggest that we adjourn until, uh, 2:00,

at which time I will ask the jury

to consider their findings.

How's it going?

Rotten.

Sinclair never showed? No.

You did the best you could, Quince.

Well, if you ask me, Charlie Sinclair let you down.

You gotta admit an innocent man doesn't run.

Do you know anybody who goes voluntarily

to their own lynching?

Sorry, I've got an "all points" out for him.

As of now, he's a fugitive.

Quincy, I... I gotta talk to you.

Not now, buddy.

Quincy, I gotta. It was me. I thought I was helping you.

What do you mean, helping? What are you talking about?

They conned me, Quincy. Up in Reardon's office.

They had a tape.

What tape? Who?

A tape of a phone conversation

between Roberta Rhodes and the Outcry the night that she died.

Wait a minute.

Are you telling me there's a telephone conversation

between Roberta and Reardon and they've got it on tape?

Yeah, yeah. He tapes all his calls. He's got a wall full of them.

Sam, get the bailiff. I want a court order.

That's not gonna do any good, because the tape's got Roberta

threatening to have Reardon killed by Sinclair.

Quince, you need a tape like that like a hole in the head.

Sam, if that tape says what he thinks it says,

you think Reardon would miss the opportunity

to play it here for this audience?

You think the tape was doctored?

I'll bet Sinclair's life and my career on it. Move it, Sam.

You wait here, honey. Come on.

Quincy. Quincy, I'm sorry.

Let's try to make up for it. Come on.

Where are they going in such a hurry?

Men's room?

Hey, what is this?

You better hold it right there, buster.

This is not Nazi Germany!

That's right, it's California

and this is a California court order

for evidence suppressed from a murder investigation. Read it.

This is the one. Dated night before last.

I want the phone call they edited to make that one.

As you know, Mr. Reardon,

the job of the Medical Examiner's Office

is to examine all physical evidence

involved in the loss of life.

But there is another part to our job,

which maybe even you don't know much about.

It's called a psychiatric autopsy.

Now, in apparent suicides,

it's more important than physical evidence.

You see, I've been looking for that missing link

in the chain of events

that finally drove Miss Rhodes over the edge

and made her kill herself.

Doctor, your biggest missing link

is Congressman Charles Sinclair.

I apologize for interrupting the testimony.

I'm afraid I owe more than an apology to this court.

Thank you, Congressman Sinclair.

There are more than apologies to be considered here.

Some very serious charges have been made against you.

I understand that.

And I assume full responsibility

for Roberta Rhodes' death.

All right, calm down. Just calm down.

Congressman, if you wish

to make a statement for the record

the Police Department is represented by It. Monahan.

Yes, I... I would.

Quincy, I'm sorry I lied to you.

I, uh, I hit Roberta...

I know everything you did. Give me five minutes.

I know everything. I found some new evidence.

Please, Charlie, give me five minutes.

Dr. Astin, before you let the Congressman testify,

I was about to introduce some new evidence

which will have a strong bearing

on the outcome of this hearing.

It certainly can't be more important...

Everybody in this room will be enlightened,

including the Congressman,

by a tape we just obtained from Mr. Reardon's office,

of a phone conversation he had with Miss Rhodes

on the night she died.

The night she died?

Doctor, that tape was illegally obtained

and is not admissible evidence in a court of law!

This is not a court of law, Mr. Reardon.

This is a coroner's inquest.

Would you like us to assume

that you object to the jury hearing

that conversation with Miss Rhodes?

Well, someone could misunderstand.

I have nothing to hide!

I'm a reporter in search of the truth!

Thank you. Sam.

Is it possible, Mr. Reardon,

that you were the last person

to be with Miss Rhodes on the night she died,

and not Congressman Sinclair?

Don't be ridiculous, Quincy.

Oh, I don't mean in person.

But maybe you spoke to her on the telephone.

This is gonna cost you a fortune in litigation.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

listen carefully and please note the mention of the hour.

Hello?

Hello, Miss Rhodes, Paul Reardon.

How are you?

Exhausted.

Really? So early? It's not quite 11:30.

Have we been overdoing it tonight, Miss Rhodes?

Well, listen, you can go to sleep in five minutes

and with a clear conscience.

All you have to do is corroborate

what we already know:

that you and Charles Sinclair were having a love affair.

Leave me alone.

No, no, no, we don't hang up, Miss Rhodes,

going nudie.

We wouldn't wanna be a centerfold, now,

would we, Miss Rhodes?

Go ahead, I don't care.

Ah! You're depressed. I'm sorry.

But please don't make us print those skin shots.

I mean, we can make them look

like you were entertaining the Los Angeles Rams,

Oh.

You are so filthy.

What do you want from me, huh?

You know very well what we want.

Why don't you tell him and get it over with?

Go to bed, Mother.

Stupid girl. He doesn't love you.

Go to bed, Mother.

You always were a stupid girl.

If it wasn't for me, you'd be fat and pregnant

with that garage mechanic.

Or still married to that football bum!

Hello, Miss Rhodes? Hello?

Are you still there, Miss Rhodes?

Yes, I'm still here.

Well, that's fortunate.

For a moment I thought I'd been cut off.

You have been cut off.

You're not getting anything from me.

Oh, well, now, that's unwise, terribly unwise,

Mr. Reardon,

please, you've done just about everything that you can do to me.

You made me look like a prostitute...

Please, stop it.

I can't hear you, Miss Rhodes,

Would you repeat that for me?

Why do you hate him?

What did he ever do to you?

Oh, well, I tell you, I hate bleeding hearts

with sloppy morals,

Will you just stop the calls, please?

Just stop the calls.

No, Miss Rhodes,

The Omen; never stops until it gets its man. Now you know that.

Now make it easy on yourself,

Tell us about the Congressman.

Get it off your lovely chest, and let us serve it up to the people.

You are sick.

A 10-minute exclusive

gets you off the hook. I swear.

We don't want you. In fact, we rather like you.

The person we want is that smiling Ivy Leaguer

who wants to sweet-talk this country down the toilet.

Now, what do you say, Miss Rhodes?

An exclusive, or do we escalate?

No!

And you know what you can do with your filthy newspaper!

Well, now, I'm disappointed in you, Miss Rhodes,

Let me tell you how disappointed.

From here on in, there's going to be 10 reporters

following you day and night.

You won't be able to talk to your gardener

without it becoming an orgy.

You won't leave your house alone.

You won't take a walk alone.

We'll plaster the front page

with pictures, naked pictures... Stop it!

It was you! You!

It was you!

And all the time I thought it was him! It was you!

You wouldn't let her rest! No!

Order.

It was you! It was you!

Please, Mrs. Rhodes. Take the stand, please.

Oh, it doesn't matter anymore!

It does matter.

Your daughter didn't intend for her lover

to be accused of her murder.

Roberta had so many people taking from her.

I was one of them, I guess.

But we were afraid that the Outcry would ruin her career

and she'd lose everything.

I would lose everything.

She'd spoken to me about her anguish over this situation

and I was no comfort to her.

Oh, Dr. Quincy, this is very difficult for me.

I understand.

Later that night, I'd just settled down to have a drink

and I heard the mirror shatter,

And when I got up to go in,

my foot caught in the hem of my dress and I fell,

I... l fell against the piano and I hit my head.

That's how I got this.

And I was knocked out.

And when I came to, I went in

and it was too late. It was way too late,

And then I saw the pill bottle on the nightstand.

I was absolutely in shock,

I took the pill bottle.

And the telephone?

Yes, I wiped that off.

I didn't want to be a poor old woman

living in a boarding house somewhere, alone.

I didn't wanna be poor.

Lieutenant, in the light of the change

in Mrs. Rhodes testimony,

does the Police Department wish to withdraw its objection

to Dr. Quincy's verdict of suicide?

The Police Department will support that verdict.

The Coroner's Office won't.

What?

I don't believe that a declaration of suicide

answers away the behavior that I saw and heard of today.

I heard of abuses today so cold, so vicious,

so unrelenting, that they drove a woman away

from that most precious of all possessions:

her life.

Now,

there is no word that explains that measure of anguish

that drove her to her death.

Ladies and gentlemen, let us take a moment

and do an accounting of abuses.

Let us do an accounting of 23 scathing articles

by Mr. Paul Reardon of the Outcry.

23 weeks of unrelenting abuse,

punctuated only by

heaven knows how many threatening phone calls.

23 weeks of reporters

violating her life and her privacy,

and why?

Why?

Because she refused to betray the man she loved.

She endured it for him because she loved him.

She endured it for him after he had turned his back on her

to pursue his own ambitions.

He was a weak man.

But you,

oh, you, Mr. Reardon, you're the one.

You're that special breed of leech

that latches onto the gentle souls,

the vulnerable, the defenseless.

You chipped away and chipped away

at a fellow human being

that had never done one iota of harm to you.

You maligned and denigrated and maddened a woman

who could turn to no one for help.

And why?

To damage a man you had never even met.

You're a sick man, Mr. Reardon.

And evil.

You drove her to her death just as sure

as if you had plunged a knife into her heart.

And it was premeditated.

23 weeks of premeditated murder.

And if there is a God in His Heaven,

He certainly knows what you have done.

And His justice is a lot better than ours.

Dr. Quincy, I will turn the results of this hearing

over to the District Attorney

for possible charges of perjury.

And let the record show

that Roberta Rhodes died of barbiturate poisoning.

Self-induced.

Congressman Sinclair?

What happens now? Are you going to withdraw?

I've already done that.

What about the tape? Would you have pulled out if you'd known about that?

I withdrew because of myself.

It has nothing to do with the tape.

Just one more question. Congressman!

Cut it out. That's enough. Please.

Let's let it go.

Forget it. It's over.

Oh, Quincy.

Nobody could be more ashamed of me than I am.

Does that mean you're gonna quit?

My head is in 17 different places.

I've gotta find out who I am, where I'm going.

Well, I hope you make it. You know that, Charlie.

Thank you.

Better go out that way.

What is your response to the, uh, charge

that the, uh, tape was doctored?

I support it whole-heartedly.

You admit that the tape was doctored?

Of course. After it was illegally taken from the offices of Outcry

by co-conspirators of Congressman Sinclair.

But you'll be able to read...