Original subtitles

Well, finally.

What?

I'm sorry.

I beg your pardon.

Hello?

Anybody home?

Hello?

The building's on fire.

Oh, excuse me.

I'm sorry.

Excuse me.

There doesn't seem to be anybody here.

Hmm.

I guess maybe they're all at the parade.

Parade?

All the cops in town are at the parade?

I guess so.

It's really a good parade.

What if somebody robs the bank?

They're closed.

It's the weekend.

You don't seem to understand.

I need a police officer.

They're at the parade.

I know they're at the parade.

But when they're not at the parade, who's in charge?

Lieutenant Rudemeyer.

Lieutenant Rudemeyer.

Okay, fine.

When's he due back from the parade?

Well, he's not at the parade.

He's at the airstrip.

He's at the...

Airstrip.

He just left.

He's going somewhere?

No.

He's meeting somebody?

No.

Let me see if I've got this straight.

Lieutenant Rudemeyer's the man in charge,

and for reasons unexplained, he's at the airstrip, right?

Right.

So if I were to go to the airstrip,

there's a pretty good chance I'd find him there, right?

Guess so.

Thank you very much.

Except you don't know what he looks like.

That's right.

I don't know what he looks like.

What does he look like?

Well, he's kind of hard to describe.

But you'll find him.

I will?

Kind of looks a lot like his name.

You got it.

All the way from the Upper West Side.

Sam, I love you.

So you should.

Damn thing's been routed through three planes and two airports.

I'll fix your parking tickets for the next three years.

Rudy, that's great.

But I don't drive.

Thanks.

Oh, and Brozier.

Lieutenant Rudemeyer?

Yeah.

Harry Kenyon.

Oh, I...

Sorry.

Do we know each other?

Uh, no, not exactly.

But since you're the police and my wife seems to be missing, I...

This is official business?

Well, maybe. I'm not sure yet.

I'll tell you what, Mr. Kenyon.

Kenyon, why don't you stop by our office and file a report?

Oh, hey, Lieutenant, wait a minute.

Lieutenant, I was just there.

By myself.

Oh, I guess they're all at the parade.

And since you're not, I figured maybe we could take a few minutes.

Well, I was going to take this home.

Lieutenant, my wife is missing.

Since I've only been married a week, I'd kind of like to find her.

Okay, follow me back to town and watch the traffic.

There's a parade.

Yeah, I know.

I apologize for the empty building, Mr. Kenyon.

But around here, they don't do things in the conventional way.

I noticed.

Takes some getting used to.

I've been here for eight months,

and I still get nosebleed from the altitude.

You're from...

New York.

Actually, the Bronx.

What's a nice cop like you doing in a place like this?

That's what I've been asking myself.

Tell you the truth, my wife wanted us to live here.

For some reason, she likes clean air.

Speaking of wives...

Not that the people aren't nice, that it's pretty.

I keep telling myself it's pretty.

I feel like mountains.

Lieutenant?

Lieutenant?

Lieutenant?

Do you know what this is?

Looks like a corned beef sandwich.

Mr. Kenyon, there are corned beef sandwiches,

and there are corned beef sandwiches.

This particular corned beef sandwich is from a deli

on West 87th Street.

And this is chocolate syrup.

I see.

But it's the right chocolate syrup for egg creams.

They don't know from egg creams in the Rockies.

They don't know from pickles either?

You wouldn't believe what they think there's a pickle out here.

Lieutenant, I hate to come between you and your stomach,

but I've got this problem, and you being a cop

had kind of crossed my mind. You might be interested.

Oh, right.

Your wife.

She's...

Missing. Or so it seems.

What's her name?

Christine Prescott.

Actually, Christine Kenyon, now.

You say you've been married for just one week.

We met in Las Vegas.

Chris was taking a trip around the country with a friend.

Anyway, she and I got stuck in the elevator

in the Golden Lady Hotel.

By the time they got the power back on, we were in love.

You fell in love between floors?

Oh, I'd fall in love with her anywhere.

I proposed that night at dinner.

It took me six months to get my wife to go out with me.

As soon as we were married, we hopped a plane here.

For any particular reason?

Well, it's a nice place for a honeymoon.

All that clean air you were talking about.

Besides, a friend of mine from San Francisco loaned us his condo.

We thought we'd do a little skiing.

And you're from Vegas?

San Francisco.

Wait a minute, I'm confused.

I was visiting Vegas. I go there five, six times a year.

And Chris is from Philadelphia.

Got it?

I think so. I like Philadelphia.

Very good cheese steaks and ice cream.

Lieutenant...

I'm sorry, sorry. So she disappeared.

Now, tell me the circumstances.

Well, we haven't been here very long.

It's wonderful.

Never went out. Stayed in the condo and...

And...

Oh, yeah, I get the picture.

Then last night we had our first argument.

I don't even remember how it started.

Suddenly we were yelling at each other.

She said I wasn't giving her enough space.

Yeah, they say things like that.

Next thing I knew, she packed her bag and left.

They also do things like that.

I was sure she was going to come back last night, but...

She didn't. When she didn't show up this morning...

Look, I hate to bring the police into this,

but I'm really beginning to get worried.

What does she look like?

She's beautiful.

You can't miss her. She's driving a Canary yellow sedan.

Rent a car?

Yeah, and that's what worries me.

See, the thing is, she's the world's worst driver.

I hate the idea of her on these roads

with hairpin curves and all this ice and snow.

I'm afraid she can drive off a mountain or something.

Mr. Kenyon, I have some bad news for you.

Most of the time, they come back.

I want her to come back.

Here, why don't you leave me your local address

and phone number, and I'll make a few calls.

I appreciate that.

She probably checked into a hotel.

As soon as she cools off,

I'll bet she turns up in your front doorstep.

And if she doesn't?

Believe me, we'll locate her. Just give us time.

And look at it this way.

Hey, given the nature of your honeymoon,

you could probably use the rest.

Thank you.

Want a lift?

Huh, that or an oxygen tank.

You're up early.

So are you.

Back east, I'd sleep through fire sirens

and gunshots.

Hear the birds blow me out of bed at 6 o'clock.

I called, but you weren't in.

I couldn't sleep.

Hop in. It's cold out there.

I figured you'd like to come with me.

I've been a little running.

Put my mind off Chris.

I didn't hear from you last night, so I figured you...

Let's wait till we get to your place.

It's up here on the left.

This is it. Nice place for a honeymoon.

Assuming it's double occupancy,

which it isn't at the moment.

Not bad.

What's your friend do for a living? Rob Banks?

Better. He's an orthodontist.

Oh.

I never asked. What do you do?

Paperwork.

I'm an accountant.

No kidding. Maybe we can have a talk

about my taxes.

Tell you what.

I'll find you deductions if you find me my wife.

Guess I should have gone to dental school.

Mm-hmm.

And he only uses it a couple of weeks a year.

What can I offer you, lieutenant?

Coffee? Orange juice?

You wouldn't have a Danish laying around. Sorry.

Ah, that's my problem with this part of the world.

Lots of nature, but no prune Danish.

Join me?

At this hour?

Any hour is appropriate if your wife happens to be missing.

I take it you haven't found her.

No, not yet.

But we will.

You checked the hotels? Uh-huh.

We contacted the rental agency. Her car hasn't been returned.

What about a plane?

No one by your wife's name flew out of here,

now unless she used an assumed name.

Damn it.

Where is she? Take it easy, Mr. Kenyon.

I got a hunch she's holed up somewhere

thinking things over. I mean, you got married

without knowing each other very well.

Is someone in there?

Oh, yes.

Lieutenant, meet Max.

Hi, pal.

He wandered into the chapel when Chris and I were getting married.

She fell madly in love with him.

And you brought him along on your honeymoon?

She insisted. I had to book a seat for him on the plane.

Sorry, pal.

She's still among the missing.

But the lieutenant is confident he'll find her.

Unless he's changed his mind.

We're doing our best, Mr. Kenyon.

Hmm.

Let me show you something.

Today is Chris's 30th birthday.

We were going to celebrate.

Will I be eating this cake alone?

You're really making me feel guilty.

I'm trying.

Okay, if it makes you feel better, I'll put every available man on the case.

Good.

She's probably feeling foolish and it's hard for her to pick up the phone.

But I'm an optimist.

I predict that by tonight,

you and your wife will be blowing out the candles on that cake.

Let's hope.

In the meantime, why don't you check around yourself?

Maybe you'll spot her on the streets.

I did that yesterday.

I know. We got reports that some guy was checking out good-looking women all over town.

Wonderful.

My wife will come home and I'll be up on a morals charge.

Keep the faith.

They got that on bumper stickers around here along with Save the Whales.

Lieutenant, do yourself a favor.

Move back to New York.

The thoughts cross my mind daily.

Hello?

Father who?

I'm sorry. You must have the wrong number.

Yes, this is Harry Kenyon.

My wife.

What about my wife?

Why can't you tell me over the phone?

Where's your church?

No, it's all right. I'll find it.

I'll be there in a few minutes.

Ah, the concerned husband.

How do you do, sir? I'm Father Macklin.

Father, on the phone you said something about my wife.

I did indeed.

Have you seen her?

Mr. Kenyon, I know how troubled you must be,

but if you'll indulge me for a moment,

I think I can be of service.

I don't understand.

Let's just say I'm aware of your problem

and if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions.

I assume you're still in love with your wife.

Of course I'm in love with my wife. What is this all about?

Then you have no misgivings,

no regrets about your marriage.

What marriage?

It takes a wife to make a marriage.

Oh, very true. Union is sanctified,

division is a moat in the eye of God.

St. Thomas Aquinas.

You may be right.

Now, Mr. Kenyon, would you be willing to take your wife back

without reproaches,

without rancor,

with nothing but words of love?

Of course.

Then you richly deserve

good news.

Mrs. Kenyon!

Eric,

before you say anything, let me talk.

I know that what I did was foolish

and that there's

no way I can apologize to you,

but if you'll just

trust me again,

I know that I can make it work for us.

I promise I will.

Thank you very much, Father Maglin.

I'm happy for you both.

Father?

No need to say anything. It was only my duty.

Father, this woman is not my wife.

What?

Harry!

Who you are.

She sure as hell not Chris.

I've never seen you before in my life.

No, Mr. Kenyon, you promised there would be no reproaches.

This is very cruel of you.

I'm telling you, I don't know her.

He's been under

a lot of strain. I guess it's a shock of seeing me again.

I'll say it's a shock.

Harry, can we go back to the condo

and talk this over?

Lady, I'm not going anywhere

with you.

Unless you'd like to join me

at the police station.

Mr. Kenyon, you're being unfair.

No, Father, I think it's a good idea.

You do?

Harry, I don't know why you're acting this way.

Perhaps you're angry

and I guess I deserve it.

I'll go anywhere you want me to.

Just as long as

we can clear this up and be together again.

Then it's settled.

I can't believe anybody's taking this seriously.

Mr. Kenyon, here is a total stranger.

An imposter.

And the two of you are actually

listening to her. Don't you think I know my own wife?

Mr. Kenyon, can I shoehorn in a word or two?

You don't really think you're going to get away with this.

Mr. Kenyon! I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Let's see if I've got this straight.

Mrs. Kenyon, you claim...

She's not Mrs. Kenyon.

I've got to call her something.

Call me Chris, Lieutenant.

Chris is my wife's name.

Please, let's get organized here.

Father, where did you meet Mrs...

This young lady?

Two nights ago, she came to the church.

She was very distraught.

She said she didn't know where to turn.

Apparently, she'd had a fight with her husband.

Whoever he is, I don't blame him.

Go on, Father.

We have a small cottage behind the church.

And I suggested that she stay there for a few days

to think things over.

Father Macklin was very kind.

And it was just what I needed.

I walked and I slept a lot.

And mostly I thought about Harry.

Touching.

Just for the hell of it,

suppose you tell me where we met.

In an elevator

in the Golden Lady Hotel.

Anyway, Lieutenant,

this morning I realized that

I was being foolish and

that my place was with my husband.

So I asked the father to call him.

Seems to make sense. What are your objections, Mr. Kenyon?

At the risk of being redundant,

this woman is not my wife.

Why don't you ask her for some identification?

A driver's license? A credit card?

Reasonable request. Do you mind, ma'am?

I'd love to, Lieutenant, but...

I knew there'd be a but.

But I left my purse in my car

with my suitcase and it got stolen.

Your purse was stolen?

No, my car was stolen with everything in it.

How convenient.

That's a little hard to swallow, ma'am.

I believe I can explain, Lieutenant.

This morning Mrs. Kenyon picked up some groceries for me.

She brought them in,

but she left the car outside with the key in the ignition.

While we were talking, we happened to look out the window.

And?

A rather shaggy young man jumped in the car and drove off.

He even waved at us.

Come on!

Are you questioning my veracity, Mr. Kenyon?

Why didn't you report it?

We did.

You...

We called the police an hour ago.

Dardee!

Did we get anything this morning on a car theft?

Yeah, this is it.

Canary Yellow Sedan reported stolen

by a Mrs. Christine Kenyon.

All right, all right. All right.

It was stolen.

Maybe the guy who ripped it off was an accomplice.

Huh?

That's it, Father. You were set up. They wanted a witness.

I just can't believe that about Mrs. Kenyon.

She's not Mrs. Kenyon.

Wait a minute.

I can prove she's a fraud.

Oh?

I have photographs

of the real Christine.

I took Polaroids the day we got here.

They're in the desk drawer back at the condo.

Am I making you nervous?

Well, not particularly

because I don't remember you taking any photographs.

You don't remember because you weren't there.

There's one way to find out.

You can't find it.

Lieutenant, let's go.

Wait a minute.

Look, maybe we can solve this over the phone.

Ma'am, you're from Boston, right?

No, Philadelphia.

Nice try, Ritamire.

Well, maybe we can phone one of your friends

or your parents.

I'm an only child. My parents died

when I was very young.

How do you know that?

But I could give you the names of some of my friends.

And Mr. Wexler, he's the principal

of the school where I teach.

Oh.

But it's a weekend. They might be out of town.

Well, we won't know unless we try,

will we?

Excuse me, but I should be getting back to the church.

So unless I'm needed...

You can go now, Father, and thank you for your help.

Goodbye, Mrs. Kenyon.

Please call if you need the cottage again.

Thank you.

That's what I like. A vote of confidence.

Lieutenant, let's make those calls.

Ma'am, can I have those numbers, please?

Yes, of course.

Here you are, Lieutenant.

Area code 215.

Okay, here's how I'll handle this.

I'll have my deputy phone these people

to authenticate them.

Then we'll put you on the phone and see if they recognize your voice.

Fine.

D'Arty.

I'll say this for you. You'd make a hell of a poker player.

Well, it's easy

when you have all the cards.

Maybe. But I have the photographs.

Lieutenant?

Well, we're waiting for your deputy.

Let's drive back to my place.

I take it you're insisting.

You bet I'm insisting.

Any objections?

No.

I just want to go home and have a long, hot shower.

I was hoping you'd join me.

Lieutenant,

should we get this over with?

Okay.

But if I had an offer like that, I wouldn't want company.

Am I going too fast for you?

How did you get in here?

Pardon?

I said, how did you get in here?

The door was open.

I didn't think you'd mind.

The door was locked.

Please, darling. You were in such a hurry to get to the church,

you probably forgot it.

I did not forget. Don't darling me.

Mr. Kenyon, the door was open.

In these parts we don't lock our doors.

What do you want?

Ah, yes.

Well, as I was driving home,

it suddenly occurred to me that I was abdicating my duty

by walking out on you and your charming wife.

Oh?

We have a group that meets every Wednesday evening,

young marriage, such as yourselves.

Problems are aired, defenses are lowered.

I thought I'd stop by and extend an invitation.

We don't need group therapy.

Darling, we need something.

I mean, when a man doesn't recognize his own wife.

Why don't you offer the gentleman a drink?

What?

A drink, darling.

I'm sure Father Macklin and the Lieutenant are thirsty.

Why don't you offer them something from the bar?

If you can find it.

Well, it's really a bit early.

Nonsense, father.

A medicinal drop of sherry, perhaps?

I'm sure the Lieutenant would like something.

As a matter of fact, I do.

A little seltzer, neat.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I forgot my manners.

Let's see.

That's one seltzer

and one sherry.

Anything for you, dear?

Uh, no.

Uh, the photographs.

Come with me, Lieutenant. They're upstairs.

We'll settle this once and for all.

Max!

Oh, Max, how are you?

My old bath man.

Did you miss me?

Did you miss me?

Did Harry give you your vitamins?

You're hungry, aren't you?

Yeah, come on.

Let's get you something to eat.

I'm gonna flea check.

Ahem.

Seems like somebody's satisfied.

Come with me.

They were just here!

Uh-huh.

Maybe they're in one of my jackets.

Mr. Kenyon, why don't you admit that there are no pictures?

Damn it, Rudemeyer, I had a dozen of them.

I took them myself. Then where are they?

I don't know.

Why?

Of course.

Father Macklin.

Don't you see?

He got here before we did.

And he was at your office when I mentioned them.

He took them.

Why would he want to do that?

Because they're in this together.

In what?

Sure, it all fits.

He backed her up about the car,

and then he bailed her out about the photographs.

You search him, you'll find them.

I can't search a priest.

Who says he's a priest?

All right.

Where are they? Pardon?

The snapshots. Where did you put them?

Harry, is something missing?

You know damn well something's missing.

Your partner here has been working overtime.

Excuse me. Father, would you mind telling me

how long you've been in town?

Almost a year. I was transferred last May.

This is embarrassing, Father,

but may I see some identification?

Certainly.

Thank you.

Everything seems to be in order.

Social security card, driver's license.

You can buy IDs on the criminal underground.

Harry, you sound like a V-movie.

Why don't you give the bishop a call?

And if you'd like to search me.

That won't be necessary.

What do you mean it won't be necessary?

He's got my photographs in his pocket.

Will you please shut up?

I'll get it.

No, no, you won't.

Hello.

Just a minute. It's for you.

Lieutenant Rudemeyer?

Uh-huh.

What's that number again?

Okay, fine.

That was my deputy.

Mr. Wexler, the principal for Mrs. Kenyon's

elementary school, is waiting for our call.

The real Mr. Wexler?

No, he's a ringer. Your wife has half of Philadelphia

on her payroll. Any extensions?

Yes, there's one in the other room.

How do you know that?

While we were upstairs, she looked around.

Harry, when we settle in San Francisco,

I think you better start seeing a psychiatrist again.

He sees a psychiatrist?

He did for five years. That's not true.

Harry, you saw Dr. Kensington.

You told me so yourself.

There is no Dr. Kensington.

You were heartbroken when he moved to Europe.

You didn't feel your analysis was completed.

Rudemeyer, you gotta believe me. I have never been to see a psychiatrist.

I don't even know any psychiatrists.

Everybody take a deep breath, okay? I want to make this call.

If you don't mind, I'll be on my way.

Fine, fine.

I have to hurry back to the church and burn these photographs.

Just a joke, Mr. Kenyon.

Just a joke.

Okay.

As soon as it rings,

I'll give it to you, ma'am.

And I'll get on the extension.

Good meeting you.

Hello, Mr. Wechsler.

Hi, it's Chris.

Oh, fine, thanks. How's the weather where you are?

Uh-huh.

Well, no, no, I'm in the Rockies.

No, it's not part of my trip. It was a little detour.

Actually, I'm on my honeymoon.

That's right. I got married.

Oh, he's a wonderful guy.

He's a little eccentric, but he's very sweet.

Mm-hmm.

Mr. Wechsler, um,

you're gonna have to find a replacement for me

for the next semester. I'm gonna be living in San Francisco.

Good.

Well, give my love to Mrs. Wechsler.

Oh, and say hi to the kids for me.

Okay, bye-bye.

I want to talk to him.

Oops. I hung up.

Well?

Well, what?

Did he recognize her voice?

Of course he recognized her voice. Why wouldn't he?

Because she's not my wife.

It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Kenyon.

I hope you enjoy your stay.

Thank you.

Walk me to the car.

Lieutenant.

May I see some identification, please?

What?

I know who she is, but I'm not so sure about you.

This is idiotic.

Satisfied?

Mm-hmm. Unless you got these on the criminal underground.

Now, look, Mr. Kenyon,

I don't know what this is all about, but it's really none of my business

because nobody's committed a crime.

And the last thing I need is to get involved

in a domestic situation.

So why don't you take my advice,

apologize to the lady, and buy her some flowers.

Give her the birthday cake.

If you're lucky, she won't ask for a divorce.

There is a crime. That woman is impersonating my wife.

Oh, yeah, one more thing.

Kensington isn't the only shrink in the world.

When you get back to San Francisco, look through the Yellow Pages.

Hey!

Where are you?

What are you doing in there?

What? What are you doing in there?

I'm taking a shower.

I know you're taking a shower.

Come out here. I want to talk to you.

Wait a minute.

I made you a drink. It's on the bar.

You forgot the ice.

What? Ice.

If you're my wife, why don't you know I take it on the rocks?

Sorry, darling, I can't hear you.

I'll be out in a minute.

What? Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Kenyon.

I didn't mean to startle you.

Don't you know better than to sneak up on people like that?

I must be up ten beats a second.

Well, I did not, but no one answered.

I was in the bedroom.

How'd you get in?

The door was open.

I closed the door.

Yes, but you didn't lock it. You should really be more careful.

What do you want?

I'm afraid I misplaced my bravery.

And I thought I might have...

Ah, there it is.

Depressing, isn't it?

One tends to grow forgetful over the passing years.

That wasn't there before.

Mr. Kenyon, I must admit I'm concerned about you.

Is that a fact?

You seem to be...

I put this out of touch with certain fundamental realities.

Really?

Well, you...

might be right.

What do you say we have a drink and talk about it?

Well, I... Oh, go ahead.

I really haven't been much of a host today,

and this has certainly got to be better than that sherry.

Well, I suppose a sip or two wouldn't hurt me.

Good.

Ah, please, sit.

Thank you.

Now, you were saying something about the fundamental realities.

Mr. Kenyon,

it's a known fact

that marriage can be a psychic upheaval.

It changes the entire structure of our lives.

And even though it can be

a state of unending bliss,

there are those of us who, at first,

can't deal with the situation.

Drink up, Father.

I, of course, am celibate.

But I've learned these things

from watching the members of my congregation.

So you're saying that I'm rejecting Chris

because I don't want to be married?

It's possible, isn't it?

Then she really is my wife.

Exactly.

Well, that's a relief.

Because if she weren't,

if she were trying to harm me,

she might have put something in that glass you're drinking from.

What?

She made that scotch for me.

Good Lord.

But what's the matter, Father?

You just said it was all in my mind.

You don't know what you've done.

You don't realize, Mr. Kenyon,

that...

Mr...

Mr. Kenyon...

Mr. Kenyon, I...

Father.

Father.

Doctor.

Oswald.

Doctor.

Oswald.

Police.

Oswald.

This is Harry Kenyon at 615 Starwood Road.

There's an emergency.

I need a paramedic unit out here right away.

Oh, and Radio Lieutenant Rudemeyer in his car.

He just left here a few minutes ago.

Tell him to turn around and come back.

Yeah, that's 615 Starwood Road.

Hi.

I feel so much better after a shower.

Is something wrong?

No.

Nothing's wrong.

Then why are you looking at me like that?

Well, you've been away for a few days.

I'd almost forgotten how attractive you are.

Thank you.

Now that you're back,

I thought we might commemorate the occasion.

You did?

Why not?

What exactly did you have in mind?

The usual.

After all, you're my wife, aren't you?

Mm-hmm.

Let me just take this off.

Now?

No time like the present.

I just had a shower.

You can have another afterward.

Why so modest, darling?

I've seen you without your clothes before, haven't I?

Yes, of course.

What's the problem?

I'm sorry. I guess I'm just not in the mood.

Oh, well.

I'll put you in the mood.

Remember, you always used to like this.

Remember?

Sure.

And this?

And this?

Mm-hmm.

And this?

And this?

I know what the trouble is.

I'm starving.

Ah, then after you've had something to eat,

you'll be a little more responsible.

Just a sandwich.

And then what, Jack?

Anything I want.

Anything you want.

There's just one hitch, though.

What?

By the time you get your sandwich, I might be out cold.

Or were you counting on it?

I don't understand.

That little drink you fixed me.

Fortunately, I gave it to Father Macklin.

He what?

For some reason, it didn't seem to agree with him.

Where is he?

In the other room. On the floor.

It sounds as though we have company.

I hope they brought a stomach pump.

You got an emergency here?

Inside. Guy had a drink and keeled over.

Heart attack?

Could be. Last I looked, he was still breathing.

What's going on?

Oh, nothing.

My alleged wife just tried to slip me a Mickey.

But I gave it to Father Macklin and he passed out.

Is he dead? Oh, no.

They don't want to kill me. They just want me out of the way.

You got to be kidding.

When he comes to, give him the Rocky Mountain version

of the third degree and find out what the hell is going on.

I guess I owe you an apology.

Where is he? Right behind that wall.

I suppose you'll show us.

Sure.

Right.

Here.

He was right here.

He was right here.

I just saw him. He was here.

What's all the excitement?

What did you do with him?

Do with who?

Macklin. He was lying right there on the floor.

Why would he do a thing like that?

Because you drugged him.

Or poisoned him. Not him. Me.

But I gave it to him.

You want to go over that again, Mr. Kenyon?

Uh-huh.

Here's the glass, Lieutenant. Impound it.

Have it analyzed in your lab.

Lab? This is the boonies, Mr. Kenyon.

We don't have a lab.

Then send it somewhere. You do have a post office, don't you?

Oh, I've had quite enough of this.

What did you do?

You have eyes.

I drank it.

Will somebody please tell us what's going on around here?

False alarm, fellas. You can go.

They'll only have to come back. She's going to collapse.

Oh, Harry.

Is there a problem here?

I saw the ambulance outside.

You?

Has someone been injured?

No, Father. We're all fine.

At least most of us are.

Ask him what he's doing here.

Oh, thank you for reminding me.

I've misplaced my bravery.

And I thought that when I stopped by earlier

that I might have... Ah!

There it is.

Hi.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute. You already did that.

Just did what?

Picked up your book when you were here before.

No, Mr. Kenyon.

When I was here before, I left my book.

Now I'm picking it up.

No, you already picked it up.

What's he talking about?

I believe Mr. Kenyon had an episode of deja vu.

It's a rather common phenomenon.

What about hallucinating? How common is that?

I'm not hallucinating!

Now, you listen to me, Rudemeyer.

No, you listen to me.

If you're not playing with a full deck, have it looked into.

But I don't want any more calls or accusations.

Is that clear? Goodbye.

I'll go out with you, Lieutenant.

Obviously, Mr. Kenyon needs to rest.

Wait a minute! I'm telling you...

Hey! Enough's enough! Any more of that and I'll give you till sundown to get out of town!

That from a New Yorker?

Congratulations.

You really have...

Hey.

Hey, you.

Isn't it beautiful?

Eighth wonder of the world.

You should take Max out more often. He loves the fresh air.

Good for the soul, right?

Absolutely. Come on.

Healthy.

Right.

I guess that's why you gave up smoking.

What?

For your health.

Because up till you disappeared, you smoked three packs a day.

There go those hallucinations again.

Who are you, ladies?

I'm your wife.

Till death do us part.

Look, there's nobody around. You can tell the truth.

Whose truth?

Yours or mine?

You're clever. I'll give you that.

But this scam has got to blow.

Eventually, it's got to.

Well, maybe I'll be gone by then.

Will you miss me?

Why?

Just tell me why you're doing this.

Why do most people do anything?

Two reasons. Sex and money.

And since sex isn't an issue...

It isn't?

It's got to be money.

In which case, you've made yourself a big mistake.

Why?

Because I'm broke. I've been dead up to my ears.

I've even borrowed against my insurance.

Who said it was your money?

It certainly can't be Chris's. She makes a school teacher's salary.

As of now, she's quitting that.

What day is it today?

The fifth. What's that got to do with anything?

It's my birthday.

It's Chris's birthday.

All right. It's Chris's birthday.

So you admit you're not Chris?

Of course I'm not.

But that's just between us chickens.

And it's really beside the point.

And what is the point?

You really don't know, do you?

Know what?

Today, your wife is 30.

On her 30th birthday, Christine Prescott

inherits the principal of a trust fund

worth three-quarters of a million dollars.

What?

I guess she was going to surprise you.

Wait a minute.

If I don't know that, how can you?

Trade secret.

You were a friend of hers in Philadelphia, weren't you?

You knew her at that school or something.

Maybe.

Well, then you're not as smart as I thought you were

because you've just told me your motive

and I can go to Rudemeyer and...

And what? Tell him?

Do you really think he's going to believe somebody

who's in the process of flipping his lid?

Disappearing photographs and vanishing bodies?

So that's what all this has been about?

Discrediting me?

Well, if it is, we've done a good job, haven't we?

So you just relax

and behave.

After tonight, it's all over.

Tonight? What happens tonight?

That would be telling.

You're very pleased with yourself, aren't you?

Yep.

Well, before you start counting your money, remember one thing.

Chris could still show up, the real Chris.

And if she does, you're in trouble.

No, Chris would be in trouble.

Because if she's unlucky enough to put in an appearance,

she'll be, shall we say,

taken care of.

By whom?

Practice dance with Cisco, darling.

Well, that's probably a good idea.

You'll be safe there.

Nobody's running anywhere.

How can you leave Hearthen home and your loving wife?

Because you're a little too lethal for my taste.

And I'm not particularly fond of your spiritual advisor.

Would you like me to leave a light on in the window?

You can do whatever you want.

I'll tell you one thing, though.

You're not going to get away with it.

Who's going to stop us?

Me.

Yes?

Like a single for tonight, please.

You're kidding.

I am?

We're booked through next month, ski season.

Look, I'm not particular.

Even a closet will do.

Closets are already spoken for.

Sorry.

Next year, you're going to tell me it's this way all over town.

Not even any floor space.

Those people have reservations.

Max, what are you doing here?

Count your blessings, darling.

At least somebody's glad to see you.

Are you following me?

Oh, I'm shopping.

All my clothes were stolen, remember?

So was your purse. How are you going to pay for anything?

Father Macklin was kind enough to lend me some money.

I need a new dress for tonight.

Really? Why?

Be a lovin', take care, Max, will you?

I'm going to be in one of those shops over there.

Hey.

Max.

Is that you?

How are you feeling?

Still tense, eh?

Unconstipated, no doubt.

Excuse me, am I supposed to know you?

I don't believe so, but I am acquainted with your friend here.

This is Max, isn't it?

Yes.

I'm Dr. DiMarco. I was briefly...

this animal's physician.

Still depressed.

Well, one expects that with a stray

sense of abandonment, of inadequacy.

But we mustn't be discouraged, must we?

With the proper sort of therapy,

these problems can be resolved.

Although I must warn you, Mr...

Kenyon, Harry Kenyon.

I must warn you, Mr. Kenyon, that severe

regression is a possibility,

and it can lead to loss of appetite

and uncontrollable rug-wetting.

That's why I'm surprised that she didn't bring him

back for another visit.

She? Your wife.

I told her that Max needed additional counseling.

Wait a minute, you're saying

my wife brought Max in to see you

and you're some sort of veterinarian?

I'm considerably more

than that, sir. I practice holistic

medicine, the entire animal

with an emphasis on its mind

and emotional life. If fleas

are the problem, look elsewhere.

I just want to get this straight.

You saw my wife.

Of course. Your dog didn't come in

by itself. When was this?

Last week. Why?

She didn't say anything about it

to me. Well, that's

quite understandable. Wives often feel

foolish when they worry about their pets

and husbands are rarely sympathetic.

She went shopping the first

day we were here and took Max with her.

That could have been the day she saw you.

Please be assured, Mr. Kenyon, that your wife

had genuine cause for concern.

Max was deeply despondent, I'd almost

say suicidal.

Who knows what indignities he suffered

before he wandered into your lives

in Las Vegas. Las Vegas?

Yes. Well, it

must have been Chris if she mentioned Vegas.

Yes. Well, I

must be going now. Nice to see

you, Max. Take care.

Uh, doctor.

Dr. DiMarco.

You were right. Max needs help.

That's what I was saying. I mean immediate help.

Can you give him a treatment now?

Now?

Why wait? We wouldn't want him to do something

rash, would we? Of course not, no.

And money's no object. What do you say?

I do have a spare

hour. Great. I'll pick him up later.

Where's your office? In my home.

Good. You have a card? Ah, yes.

You listen to the

doctor, Max. He knows what's best.

Thank you. And, uh,

I'd look into his dreams

if I were you. He's been growling in his sleep a lot

lately. Really?

Mm.

Hi.

Oh, hi. Can I give you

a ride home?

Sure.

What did you buy?

Oh, just a suit, et cetera, et cetera.

Mm. For tonight?

For tonight.

Must be a special occasion.

Mm-hmm. Very special.

Am I invited?

Remember what they say about curiosity.

Thank you very much.

Where's Max?

I took him to a vet. To a vet?

Mm-hmm. Nothing serious.

He was sneezing.

We'll pick him up on the way home.

This is it.

Coming?

Why don't I just wait here?

Oh, I might have to fill out some papers

or something. Why don't you come on?

A little overqualified

to treat a sneeze, isn't he?

Nothing but the best for Max.

Don't you usually

knock before you go in people's houses?

I want to watch the doctor at work.

The most important thing

is trust.

Yes, Max, trust

is essential.

I must trust you, and you

must trust me.

And that's all there is to it.

You're a good boy.

A good,

good boy.

And you are loved

by me,

your surrogate parents,

and by the entire

canine community.

Isn't that what you've always wanted?

Ah, Mr. Kenyon.

We're just finishing up.

It's been a productive session.

Glad to hear it.

Oh, ah,

how do you do? I'm Dr. DeMarco.

Hello.

Oh, that's right.

You two don't know each other, do you?

No, we don't.

Tell them who you are, darling.

What do you mean?

Introduce yourself.

Oh!

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm Mrs. Kenyon.

I'm Harry's wife. My what?

Your wife, darling. Your wife.

Gotcha.

What's going on

here? Doctor, is this

the woman who brought Max in to see you last week?

No. But you just heard her

identify herself as my wife.

Well, but that's not possible. I met your wife.

Ball's in your court.

Oh, now I remember.

Actually,

we did meet. We met when I brought Max

in for his checkup.

It's just been such a hectic week that

it totally slipped my mind.

I'm sorry, but you're a complete

stranger to me.

Oh, well, I had my

hair in a totally different style

and I wasn't wearing any makeup.

Don't you remember?

And you were paying more attention to Max,

which is how it should be.

I just kind of hung around in the background

and the lights are kind of dim in here.

Young woman,

we have never met before.

And frankly, I resent your trying to convince me

that we have. Mr. Kenyon,

is there some explanation for this?

Well, it's rather complicated, doctor.

She's after my wife's money.

And you're the only one in town who can prove it.

That is ridiculous!

Why don't we let the police decide that?

May I use your telephone?

Yes. I will not stand here

and listen to any of this ridiculous nonsense.

What's the hurry, darling, if you don't have anything to hide?

See, the last thing she wants is for the police to meet you.

Because when he tells them you're not my wife...

But I am your wife, Harry.

It's just that Dr. DeMarco has a poor memory.

I have a poor memory.

You have an excellent memory, young woman.

By all means, use my telephone.

One quick question.

You and I know she's an imposter, but Max didn't.

He ran to her like she was a T-bone steak,

jumped all over her. Why shouldn't he?

At least he has the sense to know who he belongs to.

Perfume.

What? Did your wife wear any kind of perfume?

Well, yes, but...

Well, it's entirely possible.

If this young woman knew what kind of perfume your wife used,

and if she applied it to her throat and her wrists,

it's entirely possible that Max would respond to the familiarity of the smell.

Boy, you really did a number on me.

Lieutenant Rudemeyer, please.

Where are you going, light of my life?

I have the car keys.

What? Yes, it's urgent.

No, I don't want to talk to anybody else.

I want Rudemeyer.

He's where?

The chief of the local police is playing basketball.

You should try it, Harry.

Physical activity clears the mind.

I'll be back in 15 minutes.

Now, just a minute. You're not leaving the two of us here alone.

She may be tricky, Doc, but she's only a woman.

You chauvinist.

I'm sorry, but this is really none of my business.

I'm afraid it is, Doc.

Whether you like it or not, you're a material witness

in a case of grand larceny.

Now, it'll be out of your hands in a few minutes,

but you have to keep her here till I get back.

What if she decides to leave?

Make a citizen's arrest.

Have you any idea what you're asking?

You tell him, Doc.

Is this loaded?

Certainly not.

Where do you keep the bullets?

In the desk drawer, but... Loaded.

Mr. Kenyon, this is out of the question.

I have never shot anyone in my life.

What are you telling her for?

What's this?

It's a closet.

I know that. What's in it?

Records, files?

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Oh, no, you don't. No. Harry!

Harry, I'm claustrophobic!

Talk to the doctor about it.

Through the door.

Don't open that door.

If she's gone, when we get back, you're an accessory.

Besides,

there's almost a million bucks at stake.

She can't afford to let you live.

What? Load that gun.

And be careful.

He fouled me!

Are you nuts? I was a foul!

He fouled me! Didn't he foul me?

You say so.

Substitution!

I thought you guys from the Bronx grew up with basketball.

Hey, foul of me. Can we talk?

No, don't talk, Lieutenant. You're just overmatched.

Now, look, you always play with 14-year-olds?

Community relations.

It looks like a real hotshot.

Yeah, I think they're giving steroids.

Hey! Hey, where are you going?

What do you think? I'm going back on the court. They need me.

Lieutenant, hard as it is for you to understand,

along with parades and basketball games,

there is a thing called crime prevention, you know, police work.

Are you back on that again? Because I warned you.

I know what her motive is, and I've got a witness who saw my real wife.

Are you going to investigate like an honest-to-god cop,

or are you going to blow this case and play center?

Power forward. Who's the witness?

A local veterinarian named DiMarco.

DiMarco? I know him. He talks to animals.

He also talked to my real wife last week.

Are you coming or not?

Okay, wait a second. Hey, Larry! Stay in for me.

I got some business. This better be good.

Doctor?

I'm...

They were just here.

Yeah, like the photographs.

Maybe he let her out of the closet and she took the gun away from him.

Gun?

She might have overpowered him.

He could be in danger.

Hello, darling.

Lieutenant, what a nice surprise.

Do you know Dr. DiMarco?

Yeah, we met.

Would you like some coffee, Lieutenant? I grind my own.

No, no, thanks.

Oh, darling, you're going to be so pleased.

The doctor says that Max is on the road to recovery.

Isn't that good news?

Excuse me, doctor, but you do know this lady?

Mrs. Kenyon, of course.

She brought Max in to see me last week.

You're lying. He's lying.

Kenyon?

Don't talk. Listen.

Call the airlines and book yourself a seat.

Or three seats if your wife and dog want to go with you.

Either you're out of here by morning or I'll place you under arrest.

On what charge?

I'll find one. Count on it.

Chris has a trust fund. The real Chris.

That's what they're after. They bought this guy off.

Early flight. First one out.

I wouldn't let you near my taxes.

How much did she pay you?

You don't understand.

I understand, all right. How much?

He's left.

He threatened to kill me.

Thank you for cooperating, doctor.

You were very wise.

It's okay, doc. You did the right thing.

What now?

Well, we can't have you running around like this anymore, Harry.

It creates problems.

I'll take him back to the condo.

Here.

You'll need this.

You're a regular arsenal.

Onward, Christian soldiers.

Come on, darling. Come on.

Maybe this time I'll let you carry me across the threshold.

You can't keep a gun on me forever.

I don't need forever, Harry. I just need a few hours.

What about DiMarco?

Get yourself a loose end there, don't you?

Sooner or later, he'll get to Rudemeyer.

We've covered that.

How?

Just get in the car, Harry.

You drive.

So, what are you going to do about DiMarco?

Oh, my God.

Just drive, Harry.

I'm not going to let you get away with this.

Oh, it was the last move that was the best.

Oh, my taxi's here.

I'm coming.

Hey, Max, take it easy.

The law will be over soon.

Thanks a lot.

Man's best friend.

Hmm.

Move away from the door.

That's better.

Where's she going?

Where's who going?

The lady who was just wrapping herself around you.

Oh, you saw that?

Up till then, I thought you were just hired help.

No, it's considerably more intimate than that.

So, tell me what's going on.

What have you got to lose?

I'm going to go the way of DiMarco, aren't I?

I suppose you are entitled to an explanation, all things considered.

As it happens, she's doing a little banking.

Banking?

At her request, a check for your wife's trust fund has been telexed from Philadelphia to the local Western Mercantile Bank.

She's picking it up.

At night? On a weekend?

They're opening just for her.

Isn't that considerate?

Who said that bankers have cold hearts?

They'll never give her that check. She doesn't have any identification.

Oh, but she does. Lieutenant Rudemeyer is going to personally vouch for her.

Damn.

Well, it's the least he can do.

Poor woman has a demented husband, and her purse was stolen.

So it's Rudemeyer to the rescue.

Our game plan wasn't only to discredit you, Mr. Kenyon.

It was also to convince him.

And we have.

Still won't work. She can't cash the check.

Wrong again.

She has a bank account under your wife's name in another city.

They've already been alerted that tomorrow morning there will be a major deposit and withdrawal.

The lieutenant was kind enough to telephone them and say that everything is quite...

If this is the proper word from a priest, everything is quite kosher.

I'll be damned. He's a bigger idiot than I am.

By tomorrow afternoon, Father Macklin and Christine Prescott will have disappeared with almost a million dollars.

And Harry Kenyon? What happens to him?

Don't ask.

Here. You'll probably use one of these.

Doesn't the condemned man get some ice?

Damn!

Listen, I'm sorry to stop you this way, but I've got an emergency here.

It's kind of complicated. My car is stuck, and this woman is at the bank picking up a check that doesn't belong to her.

Anyway, you've got to get me left back to town before the priest comes.

I mean, he's not really a priest, but he is trying to kill me.

So if you could please turn your car around and get me out of here.

I know it's the wrong way, but I'll make it worth your while.

Harry!

What the hell? What kind of a candy store are you running here?

You usually give out six-figure checks as free samples.

Who is this man? It's a long story.

Oh, no, you don't. No, you don't.

Mr. Kenyon, I'm placing you under arrest.

Oh, the hell you are! It's for your own protection.

You want to protect me? Put her behind bars!

$750,000 check, and you're going to give it to an imposter?

Lieutenant, would you kindly explain to me what's going on here?

Later. First, I want to put this nut in the cooler.

Give me that. Either you come quietly or I'll call out the men in the white suits.

Rudelmeier, it's a scam. She's after the money.

She's going to take it and head for the hills.

I think maybe you should leave, Mrs. Kenyon.

As long as you're here, he's going to keep bouncing off the walls.

Oh, he won't be hurt, will he?

No, I'll just keep him on ice for a day or two.

A day or two? She'll be in Rio by then!

Goodbye, Harry. I'll make some calls and find you a nice place...

where you can rest until you're yourself.

I am myself. She's not herself. Don't you understand?

Thank you so much for everything, Lieutenant.

My pleasure. Don't let her go. Don't let her out of here!

Move aside, Kenyon. You'll never see her again.

Rudelmeier, I swear I'll sue you and the whole police force!

Did you hear me? I said just move aside.

She's going to go to another bank in another city and cash that check!

So what? It's her money. It's my wife's money.

Right, and she's your wife. She's not my wife. She is. She's not.

Then prove it. Why the hell should I believe you?

Why should anybody believe you? Because it's the truth.

Because it's the truth. Dammit, Kenyon.

If this lady is a crook, why doesn't your real wife come forward?

Maybe she can. Why can't she? Why can't she?

I don't know. Maybe she's dead. Dead? That's impossible.

She could have had an accident. Her car could have gone off the road.

We would have found it. Found it? You haven't even looked!

Look? Look where? Look south of town in the ravine!

What ravine?

Are you blind? Six miles south of town, the ravine!

How could you miss it? A sharp curve or car would...

Thank you, Mr. Kenyon. That's what we've been waiting to hear.

Wait a minute. What is this? What's going on?

Would you mind telling me how you know the location of your wife's body?

Well, I... I... take your time, Mr. Kenyon.

After she left, I went looking for her and...

And?

Yes.

Mr. Kenyon, you're under arrest for the murder of Christine Prescott.

You have the right to remain silent.

Bless you, my son.

Lights!

Squad cars here, Lieutenant.

Thanks, Charlie.

Charlie?

Mr. Kenyon, meet Charlie Dwyer.

He was the police chief here before I came.

We dragged him out of retirement for this.

Better than playing pinocchio.

As a matter of fact, I don't think I'm gonna take this collar off.

It makes me feel positively ecumenical.

How'd you know?

We didn't at first. I mean, it looked like an accident.

A chopper spotted the wreck just a few hours after you reported your wife was missing.

You were supposed to find her.

Then you should have notified me.

I would have.

But then I remembered that you were just a little too worried about your wife's driving.

You kept harping on it. Something didn't smell right.

So I made a few phone calls.

Phone calls?

First to Vegas.

You told me you went down there five or six times a year.

That's a lot of trips.

It crossed my mind that you might be a heavy gambler.

Did it.

The funny thing is, they all knew you.

The pit bosses, the dealers.

Hard luck, Harry Kenyon.

Seems you owe a lot of people a lot of money and they were starting to lean on you.

Lean is putting it mildly.

Then I called Philadelphia.

Took me a while, but I found out about Christine Prescott's trust fund.

And so did you.

I wouldn't be surprised if she told you in that elevator at the Golden Lady Hotel.

All speculation.

Maybe, but look at the sequence of events.

World wind romance, marriage, honeymoon,

and then right before her 30th birthday, a fatal accident.

Hard luck, Harry hits the jackpot.

He inherits three quarters of the mill, pays his debts, and then walks off into the sunset.

Not a bad case.

But I needed proof.

I had to get you to admit that your wife was dead.

Since you killed her for the money,

we had to make you think that you were gonna miss out on the payoff.

Congratulations, it worked.

Yeah, well, we knocked a lot of wood.

What about Dr. DiMarco?

I take it nobody shot him.

No, I spared his life.

Any man who loves animals can't be all bad.

Was he part of all this?

Uh-uh, he just blundered into it when he saw your dog.

Charlie recruited him when you came after me at the basketball game.

He handled himself pretty well.

Not as well as Chris here.

Thank you.

But it's Ellen.

Where'd you find her, a local drama club?

Nope. Jones Beach about eight years ago.

Best looking lady on the South Shore.

And wearing the smallest bathing suit.

Mr. Kenyon, I'd like you to meet my wife.

Your wife?

Well, she's certainly not yours, is she?

I think I married the wrong woman.

Very.

So what's for dinner?

What?

Dinner. Didn't you make anything?

Ah!