Original subtitles

I... I don't know.

I've told you a hundred times I don't know.

You see, we...

we came here as tourists.

It was a sort of second honeymoon.

See, I haven't been well,

and my husband thought perhaps a trip...

We were...

we were leaving the hotel

when we were crossing the square.

That's when the shooting started...

We didn't even know who was firing at whom.

You have to believe me!

I'm sick...

Day after day of this...

Where is...

Where is my husband?

What have you done with my husband?

Oh, no! No!

Oh, no more... no more drugs, oh, please!

Please, no more... no more drugs!

See... see...

you have to let me go now

or I'll be late to school and I'll be punished.

Let me go!

I'll kill you! Aah!

I'll kill you! Aah!

Cut! That's a print!

Victoria, that's the best bit of acting I've seen in years.

Oh...

You mean me or the muscle man?

I mean you, princess.

You were marvelous; I mean it sincerely.

Aw, that's sweet of you, Jonathan,

but you know going slightly crackers isn't just acting.

I've been there.

That's behind you.

Forget it.

The important thing now is Victoria Page is back,

and Jonathan Stack's got her.

Oh, thank you, dear.

All right, everybody.

It's a wrap.

We'll continue the sequence in the morning,

and go over to Stage Nine after lunch.

If we're lucky.

We'll be lucky or I'll need a new assistant.

What time is my call in the morning, Gary?

7:00 in makeup, 8:00 for the set, Miss Page.

Okay, thank you.

Vicki, I'm whipping up an 18-boy curry

for some chums tonight.

Would you join us?

I'm sorry, Jonathan,

I promised Janet no socializing until I'm deeper into the part.

Uh-uh, now don't make me the heavy, darling.

You were the one who said we'd work on the script tonight.

You see, I can't even get away with a white lie

with my sister around.

Well, you're missing a treat.

My curry would curl your hair.

Good night, princess.

Remember, you're still the best in the business.

- Good night, Janet. - Good night, dear.

See you in the morning.

Would you have believed how easy this was going to be?

I tell you, coming back to work

was the best thing I've ever done for myself.

I feel simply fabulous,

as if I'd never been sick a day in my life.

What's the matter?

Oh, it's-it's nothing.

Just...

It just makes me feel good inside

to hear you talk like that.

Oh, well, now, let's not get maudlin.

I'll go and bring the car around.

All right, I'll get out of this

and I'll meet you in a few minutes.

Okay, don't forget your script.

Oh, I'll pick it up on the way out.

All right.

You're going to make it, old girl.

Just... hang in there.

Stay loose.

Janet?

Hello, Mrs. Carstairs.

It's nice to see you again.

Don't tell me you've forgotten me.

I've never forgotten you.

I want a confession...

a confession that you killed your husband.

Oh, you may have fooled everyone else,

but not me, not for a second.

He died.

And now you're going to die.

Vicki?

- What is it? - Someone shot at me!

- Vicki! - But didn't you see him?

He ran out just ahead of me.

Who, Vicki, who?

I don't know.

He was wearing a mask.

Oh, that hideous mask.

It's all right, Vicki.

But the shots, didn't you hear the shots?

Vicki, come on now, it's all right.

Now, let's go home.

Let's go home.

Come on, I'll do something about it, I promise you.

♪♪

Oh, Mr. Mannix.

Hello, Janet.

Uh, Victoria will be out of makeup in a few minutes.

Would you like some coffee?

Yeah, thank you.

Well, how does it feel to be back in California?

Well, I don't think I ever really left it.

Vicki and I are both natives.

We were born in West Los Angeles.

Our old house is now a San Diego Freeway off-ramp.

How do you take it?

Just black.

You know, I didn't call you last night

just at random, Mr. Mannix.

I've never forgotten how helpful you were

when Vicki was getting those crank letters from Topeka.

Well, that was at least, uh... ten years ago.

You've got a great memory.

Well, some of those letters were pretty memorable, believe me.

But what we really appreciated was the way

you were able to keep it out of the newspapers.

And that's the important thing now.

Just when she's making her comeback and...

after what she's been through.

You see...

while we were in Europe...

Her husband was killed in a car accident.

She had a breakdown.

Spent a year in a mental hospital in Switzerland.

Well, she's fine now.

I was afraid what happened last night might have set her back,

but today I'm sure she's going to make it.

I'd hate the newspapers to get hold of it.

If they dug deep enough...

Well, it could be awful.

I understand.

Hello, Joe.

Hello, Victoria.

Welcome home.

You look great.

Thank you.

This is an ungodly hour to bring you all the way out here.

I'm sorry.

Oh, I like it.

All these people breaking their backs

before 8:00 in the morning.

It makes me happy with my job.

I suppose Janet told you what happened.

Bare bones, on the phone last night.

Um...

why don't we go where we can talk more privately?

Oh, isn't it amazing how different things look

when the sun comes up?

It's almost as if it had never happened.

Then you don't mind if I ask you a couple of questions?

No, of course not.

I think some of my answers may rock you a bit.

You have any idea at all who this man in the mask was?

Not in the slightest.

Nothing in his voice, his manner, his build?

Nothing.

Can you think of anyone you've known at any time in your life,

who might have wanted to kill you?

- No one. - Miss Page,

we'll be ready for our rehearsal in just a minute.

All right, Gary, thank you.

Maybe you better tell me exactly what happened.

The first thing he said was "Hello, Mrs. Carstairs."

Vicki, you didn't tell me that.

Well, it sounded so unreal.

Carstairs...

Does that mean anything to you?

You know, it's funny, at first I thought it rang a tiny bell,

uh, a deja vu sort of thing.

But today, it simply doesn't make sense.

Could this man have confused you with someone else?

Definitely not.

Why are you so sure about that?

He knew who I was.

He said...

He wanted me to confess that I killed Allen.

That's my husband.

He was killed in a car crash in Italy.

I was with him.

Allen Sands.

It was an accident.

He was speeding, and he'd had too much to drink.

Janet...

Well, I just want that out in the open.

Did he say anything else?

No.

He shot at me three times... and...

What is it?

"Mrs. Carstairs."

I think I remember.

Janet, wasn't that the name of the character I played

in The Deadly Madonna?

Carstairs?

Em-Emily.

Emily Carstairs, you're right.

The Deadly Madonna.

I thought I knew all your films.

I don't remember any Deadly Madonna.

It was never finished.

The producers ran out of money halfway through filming.

Well, do you think there could possibly be any connection

between The Deadly Madonna and the man who shot at you?

I can't imagine what it could be.

Well, uh, why don't you show me where it happened?

Yes, it... it was right over here.

Now, uh...

he came out of the shadows from there,

and then I backed up against this wall.

Where was he when he fired at you?

Well, just about where you are now,

but farther back, near the door.

Did anybody else hear the shots?

Not that I know of.

Well, that doesn't mean anything.

The stages are soundproof.

Oh, Miss Page...

we're ready for rehearsal.

All right. Right away, Gary.

Excuse me, Joe.

What is it?

She said he fired three shots at her.

Yes.

He not only missed her from that distance,

but he, uh, didn't put a single hole in the wall.

Morning, Peggy.

Any luck with The Deadly Madonna?

Here.

"Chatter" column by Hal Seagrave...

Affectionately known then and now as "Slimy" Seagrave.

Mm-hmm.

"While every studio in town is palpitatingly eager

"to sign Victoria Page to a long-term contract

"following her personal triumph in Goodbye To Innocence,

"people close to the luminous Vicki are asking in whispers

"what has become of Mark Baxter,

"the director she left high and dry

"while making The Deadly Madonna.

Mark Baxter only happened to be her husband."

That's right.

They were married for a couple of months.

First time for Victoria and third and last time for Baxter.

Then he just dropped out of sight completely.

And he directed The Deadly Madonna.

Mr. Mannix's office.

Oh, yes, Miss Baker.

It's the Academy.

Yes...

Nemo?

Uh-huh.

One, eight, three...

Uh-huh.

Oh, that's great.

Thank you so much, Miss Baker.

Bye-bye.

Miss B said that if anyone in town

had a couple of frames of The Deadly Madonna,

it's a film buff by the name of Max Nemo.

He's got a classic theater out on Berendo.

Here's the address.

Thanks, Peggy.

Oh, and, uh, see if you can find out

if Mark Baxter has surfaced anywhere lately, huh?

Right.

If you're smoking, kill it.

I'm looking for Max Nemo.

You found him.

I hope you understand about that no smoking.

All this stuff is old film, nitrate, pre-1950.

Go up in a flash.

My name is Mannix.

Just hold your horses.

Won't be but a minute.

Okay, Mannix.

Are you a PR man?

Uh, P.I. man...

Eh, Private Investigator.

I was wondering if you could help me track dow...

Isn't that Victoria Page?

Yep.

Farewell To Innocence.

1949.

Copped about a jillion awards.

Yeah, they don't make 'em

like Victoria Page anymore.

Someone told me if I needed

information on old films, you were the man to see.

Someone told you right.

Well, how about The Deadly Madonna, for one?

That's a collector's item.

Never been released.

Not even finished.

Eh, might be a couple of cans of film around somewhere.

Would, uh, Mark Baxter have one?

You know about Mark Baxter, too?

Well, I heard that, uh,

The Deadly Madonna was the end of his career.

Yeah.

Fade out.

Finito.

Any idea what happened to him?

Ah, dropped clear out of sight; probably dead by now.

At least his liver ought to be.

He was a bottle-a-day man... A cinch for cirrhosis.

And as far as you know,

there aren't any prints available of the film?

From all I hear, they couldn't find any

in the vault, not even a negative.

Wait a minute...

Wait a minute.

There was a columnist, used to brag about

having the only print...

A muckraker named Hal Seagrave.

Do you know where I can find him?

Oh, he lives pretty high on the hog...

A penthouse on Wilshire someplace.

But in my book, he's still in the gutter.

Well, Mr. Mannix,

I take it you're what we used to call a gumshoe.

Bogey would be proud of me.

Mm.

If you're here for the lowdown

on the Labor Day party at Malibu,

it'll all be in next week's issue.

Should be good for a couple of divorces,

which, I guess, means some quick money for you chaps.

I don't handle divorce cases, Mr. Seagrave.

Aw.

You quite obviously haven't got a healthy interest in dirt.

I find it tough enough living with smog.

I assume that, uh, you're here on someone's behalf.

Mm, someone who's interested in the golden days of Hollywood.

Mm...

Nostalgia time.

Mm!

Gable and Tracy fighting over Myrna Loy.

Lombard and Harlow...

Ty Power and Flynn.

All the beautiful, magical people.

Including, of course, Victoria Page.

That name somehow falls short of stimulating me.

Is she your client?

Yes.

Why come to me?

Surely not for help.

The last time I saw Miss Page was in court, 15 years ago,

when she sued me for libel.

Fat chance.

Meaning, uh, she lost the case.

She lost.

But the melody lingers on.

Obviously, you still hold a grudge.

One that I shall cherish to the end of my days.

Why?

Mark Baxter used to be top of the heap.

He was number one director in Hollywood.

Then he found this mousy, undernourished fugitive

from a repertory company in, of all places, Long Beach.

He taught her how to...

how to talk, how to wear clothes.

He gave her a presence, a posture, an incandescent glow.

Then he put together

a movie package to launch her as a ready-made star.

And how did our lady thank him?

Halfway through, she walked out on him and the picture.

That, uh...

that finished Mark Baxter in Hollywood.

That's what you hold against her?

I couldn't care less about their love life.

But I ponied up $50,000

of my own money to get The Deadly Madonna rolling.

And then when it ground to a halt, thanks to dear Vicki,

I was out every nickel.

You once let it be known

that you had a work print on The Deadly Madonna.

Yeah.

I kept it in a closet, gathering dust,

to remind me that show business is for fools.

Then, a few years ago, I got a tip that...

that Mark Baxter

was holed up in some mission for drunks downtown.

So I, uh, I sent it to him.

I figured he needed it more than I did

to cheer up his declining years.

Do you, uh, remember where you sent it?

Some dump on Los Angeles Street.

Well...

thanks for your help, Mr. Seagrave.

Mr. Mannix...

I'm sorry I couldn't be more specific,

but, uh, Skid Row is not exactly my beat.

Some drunks have all the luck.

Uh, no, I've been thinking about it, Joe.

No, the doctor said I was perfectly well

when they let me out of the hospital.

But now, I find myself wondering... am I cured?

Is this real, or is it just in my mind?

That's something we're going to have to find out.

Oh... you said, yesterday, that the man in the mask

accused you of killing your husband.

Yes.

You have any idea why he would say that?

No.

Victoria, I want you to tell me exactly

what happened the night of the accident.

Do I have to, Joe?

You never know.

It could help.

Two years ago...

Allen and I were living in a villa near Rome.

We weren't getting along too well.

I thought he was seeing another woman.

Anyway...

we were driving home from a party,

and I decided to have it out with him.

I guess I came on pretty strong.

Who is she, Allen?

Who?

The woman you're having the affair with.

Oh, come on, Vicki.

You were on the phone with her when I came in

off the terrace this afternoon.

You hung up the minute you saw me.

Have you had too much to drink?

I want to know who she is, Allen.

Darling, I really think you're going round the bend.

Stop the car.

Is that an order?

Of course it is.

And why not?

It's your car,

your villa, your money.

Everything belongs to you.

And your husband?

Oh, too bad, his books don't sell.

He's just another Tinkertoy, right, Vicki?

I know you're seeing another woman.

Is that what you've been brooding about all these weeks?

Well, let me tell you something, Vicki...

You ought to spend some of your precious money on a doctor.

Your mind's playing tricks on you!

I mean it! Stop the car!

The next thing I remembered,

I was being wheeled into a hospital room.

You know, the only consolation I've had...

If we hadn't swerved,

the people in the other car might have been killed, too.

Well, it's pretty obvious that you weren't at fault.

You had to grab the wheel.

It was instinctive, it was right.

Then why do I have this dreadful guilt feeling

whenever I think about it?

You should try not to think about it.

I've tried. It doesn't help.

Always that image.

Victoria,

do you think that's what might have happened

yesterday on the sound stage?

Your mind created a horror figure

to accuse you of a crime you felt guilty about?

It had to have been my imagination, Joe.

No one heard the shots, there were no bullet holes.

What other explanation could there be?

Well, the gun could have been filled with blanks.

But why would anyone do that to me?

That's something we still have to find out.

I've got to run, but I'll be in touch.

Thanks.

Mannix.

Joe, it's about Max Nemo.

Yeah, I've already talked to him, Peggy.

Did he call back with something?

No.

Art Malcolm called from his workshop.

They found your card on his body.

Body?! What happened?

A fire.

The whole place went up in smoke.

Yeah, thanks, Peg.

Art...

what happened?

According to the lab boys,

it could have been a cigarette.

That old nitrate film goes up like a bomb.

Nemo made it out to here, but he'd had it.

Smoke inhalation.

You didn't find any marks on the body?

No sign of a struggle?

No marks, no struggle, no surprises.

Which brings me around to you, Joe.

We did find one of your business cards.

I didn't know you were an old movie buff.

Isn't everyone?

I was just here looking at some old films.

Sure. You do that all the time, don't you, Joe?

Yeah.

Have you got a client?

Well, I suppose you could say that.

Could you say what your client's name is, just for the record?

Sorry, Art, but there's one thing I can tell you.

Even if Max Nemo did die of smoke inhalation,

I don't think he started the fire.

How come?

Well, he may have been eccentric,

but films were his whole life.

He wouldn't let a firefly within 50 yards of this place.

You mean somebody did this to cover a murder?

That's exactly what I think.

Mannix.

Joe, I think I've got a lead on Mark Baxter.

Down on Los Angeles Street, the Voice of God Mission.

Excuse me... can you tell where I can find the manager?

Hmm. No manager.

Well, who's in charge?

Nobody.

Nothing to be in charge of.

Well, uh...

maybe you can help me.

Can't even help myself.

Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, would I?

I'm looking for a man named Mark Baxter.

Wrong neighborhood.

Nobody here's got a name.

Yeah... well, look, uh, if you do happen to see him,

uh, would you ask him to give me a call?

That's Mark... Baxter.

Tell him I'm a friend of Victoria Page.

Mister?

Yeah?

Did you say Victoria Page?

That's right.

Do you know where Baxter is?

You're talking to him.

I'm afraid I can't offer you anything in the way of a drink.

Our, uh, benefactors

don't exactly encourage us to observe the happy hour.

Some other time.

Yeah.

Doctor even warned me

that one more drink might, uh...

cause this room to have a vacancy...

for a live man.

So you want to know about Vicki and me, huh?

Well, I guess you heard that we were married.

Of course, it was as brief as a two-reel short,

but we were married.

'Cause I know, uh...

I understand it broke up

during the making of The Deadly Madonna.

Yeah... the making, but not the finishing.

She's had a rough time this past year, Mr. Baxter.

What, you mean that second husband of hers,

that... that author?

I read about that in the papers.

By the way, I also talked to Hal Seagrave.

Seagrave.

Boy, I'm sure that he told you

the whole sad story about us, didn't he?

How Vicki deserted me in the...

in the middle of my masterpiece,

and then left me a hopeless alcoholic.

Something like that.

Yeah.

Well, he's made a whole career out of ignoring the truth.

And the truth is...

The...

The truth is,

I wouldn't have finished The Deadly Madonna

even if the money hadn't run out.

I'd lost my touch, Mr. Mannix.

All my... creative juices

were diluted by too many years of booze.

I, uh, just...

didn't have it anymore.

And you, uh, have no bitterness against Vicki Page?

Bitterness?

No.

Oh, no.

She's the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

You have no idea how...

how often she helped me...

with money and, uh, hospitals and drying me out.

And bailing me out...

One jail after another.

She's a...

a remarkable woman.

Remarkable.

She just has one unfortunate failing...

A predilection for marrying the wrong man.

Seagrave told me that he gave you a work print

of The Deadly Madonna.

Yeah.

What there was of it.

I used to keep it right over there

until one night about, um,

two years ago, I was drunk out of my head,

and I burned every last frame.

It was just taking up space...

shaking my dreams.

As far as you know, uh... it was the only print?

Yeah.

Well, uh, thanks, Mr. Baxter.

I really appreciate your help.

Hey, look, um...

If you're going to see Vicki...

I'll see her tomorrow at the studio.

Yeah, will... will you tell her...?

Tell her...

Just... say hello from...

from an old friend.

Sure.

Janet, would you mind skipping the rushes this noon

so you can check on my wardrobe for Monday?

Okay, I'll look at them later.

See you on the set.

All right, dear.

Am I late, Lou?

No, Miss Page. Mr. Stack called.

He's tied up in a story conference,

and you're to run without him.

- Okay. You can start any time. - All right.

Scene 142, take one.

Action.

I don't know.

I told you a hundred times, I don't know.

I don't know.

We came... We came here as tourists.

I'm down here, Jonathan.

VICTORIA: It was sort of...

a second honeymoon.

You see, I haven't been well, and my...

my husband thought perhaps a... a trip...

We left the hotel...

Old girl's not too bad, after all.

Crossing the square

when the shooting started.

We didn't know who...

No comment?

Oh, you have to believe me!

Hello, Mrs. Carstairs.

I'm sick... I'm sick...

It's nice to see you again.

Where... Where's my husband?

What have you done to my husband?

No.

No! No more drugs. No!

Now, you have to let me go now...

- No. - Or I'll be late

for school. I'll be punished.

No!

Let me go!

VICTORIA: Let me go...!

Oh, Joe, am I glad to see you.

The phone has been ringing like crazy.

Don't tell me... All Art Malcolm, right?

I'm afraid so, Joe.

Yeah, well, what's got him uptight this time?

Mark Baxter's dead.

Dead?!

The police found your card in his pocket.

How'd he die?

Alcoholic poisoning.

When I left him, he was bone dry.

They found an empty whiskey bottle beside him.

You don't buy it, do you?

The two men who knew the most about The Deadly Madonna

both dead within 24 hours.

Just too neat.

But Joe, they were strangers.

Outside of the film, what did they have in common?

One thing...

My business card.

I've got a feeling I've been used

as a bird dog to track them down.

Oh, here's the afternoon mail.

Mm.

From Max Nemo.

It's postmarked Cole Station, yesterday.

"Couldn't find a single frame of Madonna,

"but here's a draft of the script.

"The writer did better than the director.

"He made it to the end.

Keep in touch, Max Nemo."

Why don't you go home, Peggy.

I'll fix you a drink.

No, that's all right.

I can do it myself.

In fact, I can do it better myself.

Stronger elbow.

Good night, Joe.

Nurse?

Nurse, will you come in?

Vicki, what is it?

Wh-Where's the nurse?

Oh...

Oh she... She didn't arrive.

She didn't even call.

I phoned the service and they said she was due here at 8:00.

That's all they knew.

Why didn't you tell me?

Because you were asleep, and I didn't want to worry you.

Now, look,

I'm right next door.

We'll manage.

I've been awake off and on all night.

I keep hearing noises.

I know. I know.

I heard them, too.

It's just the wind.

Maybe if I took another pill...

Look, would you settle for some hot chocolate?

I know it won't get you to sleep as quickly,

but Dr. Banks would rather you had it than a pill.

I guess you're right.

Are you sure you don't mind, darling?

Oh, don't be silly.

I'll bring it up in a minute.

And I'll probably find you asleep.

Janet! Janet!

Janet? Janet, quickly!

Janet!

Operator...

Operator, will you get me... Will you...

Operator?

Janet!

Janet! Janet, I thought you...

Oh, Janet...

Darling, you shouldn't be down here.

Janet, he... he tried to k... kill me.

Oh, my God.

- Vicki, what's the matter? - My God...!

Vicki, you've got to stop this.

Do you hear me?

You've got to get hold of yourself

or you're going to be terribly ill.

I... I know.

- Come on. - I know, I know.

Here... here, drink this.

I'll stay with you.

I won't let you out of my sight.

But I... I saw him.

I really did see him.

Drink it while it's still warm.

All of it.

So there are no bad dreams.

There.

"P, P... Victoria Page"

Janet, look.

It's nothing to be afraid of, darling.

It's only Allen.

Don't you recognize your own husband?

Good evening, Vicki.

I...

It's impossible.

The car...

You were... you were killed in the accident.

That makes me a very live ghost then, doesn't it?

Thanks to your enterprising sister.

Or should I say...

thanks to your enterprising and enchanting sister.

I hated to do it, Vicki.

I really did at first.

You've always had it your way.

The fame, the money,

any man you wanted...

until this time.

And now it's my turn.

I'm going to live.

Why couldn't you have just stayed a vegetable

in the sanitarium?

And then we would have had it all...

The money, everything, without having to go this far!

You see, the car accident was supposed to drive you crazy,

and then everything would come to us.

But, no...

the doctors had to cure you.

And then you were back here and on your way up to the top again,

and then we had to start all over!

O... Only, this time...

this time...

it's going to work.

But you can't get away with this.

I'll tell the police.

I'll... I'll call them.

How?

Or haven't you noticed the effect

that the drink's having on you?

They'll remember how nervous you've been.

All that pressure.

No wonder you killed yourself.

Janet.

Don't bother with introductions.

I know who your friend is.

I also know why you're still alive

after that fiery accident in Italy.

Victoria?

Okay, Mannix...

drop it or I'll kill her.

- Allen... - Shut up!

Is she expendable, too?

If necessary.

Sorry, baby.

Now drop it.

Oh!

Victoria?

Get an ambulance.

Joe, that night,

that impossible night...

what brought you to the house?

Well, there were two things:

One, a scene from The Deadly Madonna

and the other, your telephone was out of order.

What scene?

One that was never shot, or you would've remembered it...

but Janet never forgot it.

You see, in this scene,

the heavy wanted to kill the driver of a car

who had had a couple of drinks.

He placed a large mirror on the road

so that the driver saw his own headlights

coming at him full speed.

In order to avoid a head-on crash,

he swerved and went over the cliff.

Yes, but I wasn't driving.

Enter Allen Sands, author.

With a slight rewrite, he was driving the car,

you were the passenger.

You saw the oncoming lights,

grabbed the wheel and he lost control.

When you regained consciousness, Janet told you

that Allen Sands had been killed in the accident,

and you started blaming yourself for his death.

And ended up in a sanitarium.

Once Janet and Sands got back to America,

they had to make sure that people like Nemo and Baxter

weren't around long enough to put it all together.

Joe...

what will they do to Janet?

Well, that depends, Vicki.

I've got a hunch she's going to try and prove

that Allen Sands forced her into it.

Maybe she can.

She's already proved something I never thought I'd believe.

What's that?

That she's the actress in the family.

I might even say

she gave the performance of my life.