All language subtitles for Alfred.Hitchcock.Presents.S05E36.Letter.of.Credit.1080p.PCOK.WEBRip.AAC.2.0.H.265.-EDGE2020_track3_[eng]

[crowd cheering]

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you for that heartfelt

and technically
augmented cheer.

[cheering continues]

Will the delegates
please clear the isles?

Return to your seats, please.

I have an announcement.

Will the delegate
from Yugoslavia
please report here at once?

The Credentials Committee
suspects you may have made
a mistake.

And now,
ladies and gentlemen,

I wish to place in nomination,

a friend of,
a steadfast champion for,

and a man who

I’m certain you have already
guessed his identity.

If not,
I shall give you a hint.

He’s the producer
of the following
television play.

Hey, can you tell me
where I can find a taxi?

I think there’s one uptown.

Nobody comes to Kirkland
as a rule,

unless they got folks here
to fetch ’em.

Say, have there been
any other strange men

coming on the train
the past two days?

No, sir,
and it’s safe to say

I see everybody who gets off
at this station.

It’s yours if you can remember
to do one thing.

If a strange man does come in
on the train,

you’re to call the Grand Hotel
and ask for Henry Taylor.
That’s me.

If I’m out, you leave word
with the clerk, you understand?

Yeah. Henry Taylor.

Well, don’t worry, Mr. Taylor.

I never forget a name...

or a face.

And you needn’t mention this
to anyone.

Not to anyone.

Not a soul, Mr. Taylor.

Is there something
I can do for you?

I’d like to arrange
to open an account.

Mr. Kern handles new accounts,
but he’s in conference
just now.

[Miss Foster]
Won’t you wait?

Mr. Spengler will do nicely.

Mr. Kern is in conference
with Mr. Spengler.

[man] If I didn’t
come in there and maybe keep
a check on you, William,

you’d have my bank
in receivership.

You can take me out today,
Sam.

[Mr. Kern] All right.

I should have left you
in charge

instead
of my idiot son-in-law.

[grunts]

Don’t jostle me now!

I can’t stand being jostled.

All right, young lady,
open the gate!

You’re not an employee.

That’s right, I’m not.

Couldn’t be an employee, too.
Wide awake.

You must be a costumer.

I hope to be.

New account?

William!

Come out here and take care
of this gentleman.

Fifty-five years I was
president of this bank.

And in all that time
I never failed to shake hands
with every new account.

That’s one thing folks
could always say
about Josiah Wingate.

All right, Sam,
roll me out to the car.

Ms. Foster, if that gentleman
wants to see me,
don’t keep him waiting.

Josiah Wingate,
my father-in-law.

He founded this bank.

They get difficult
as they grow older.

Yes. Yes, they do.

He can’t seem to adjust
to retirement.

Won’t you sit down, Mr...

Taylor.
Henry Taylor.

I have a letter of credit
from my bank in Chicago.

I’d like to deposit some funds
in your bank while I’m here
doing some research.

Oh. Research in what field,
Mr. Taylor?

Perhaps I can be
of assistance.

I’m sure you can.

Is for a book I’m doing

on the subject
of unsolved crime.

And you came here to Kirkland
to do research?

That’s right.

If you’ve seen a newspaper
in the past two days,

you must know
that Arnold Mathias is dead.

He was shot down
while attempting to break out
of state prison.

His cellmate
Thomas Henry escaped,
but Mathias was killed.

I, uh, I did hear a newscast.

And this is the bank
where Mathias was employed
in December of 1957.

You didn’t have to come
to Kirkland to learn that.

No, I didn’t, but there are
a few things I did have to come
to Kirkland to find out.

Let’s go over a few points,
Mr. Spengler.

Arnold Mathias
was an employee here.

Hired by my father-in-law
prior to his retirement
and against my advice.

Because Mathias
had a criminal record?

A juvenile record.

Let’s not make matter worse
than they are, Mr. Taylor.

You see, my father-in-law
has a philanthropic streak

where young people
are concerned.

Mathias came
from a broken home.

The usual story.

Mr. Wingate wanted to give him
a chance.

And I wanted to protect
our depositors.

But you kept him on
after you succeeded
Mr. Wingate.

There was no reason
not to keep him on.

He was a willing worker,
apparently honest.

Then, in the summer of ’57,

the Dire Construction Company
transferred $500,000 in cash

from their St. Louis bank

to meet the local payroll
on the flood control dam
at the basin.

We had it placed in the vault.

Mr. Spengler,
can I see you a moment, sir?

What are you doing here?
You know you’re now allowed
in the vault.

Besides, I thought everyone
had gone home.

Well, they did sir,
I had to stay
and check these reports.

You know the rule
that no one is permitted
in the vault area

but Mr. Kern and myself.

I just wanted to see you
about my cash reports,
I can’t make them balance.

Well, then, go back to you cage
and recheck the figures
until you do.

Try it again, son.
Try it again.

This is the first time Mathias
has worked late
since you hired him.

Just a coincidence.

I hope so.

[Mr. Spengler] It was only
a few weeks later

that my father-in-law
suffered the stroke

which necessitated
his retirement.

I was left
with full responsibility.

We were all busy.

Mathias worked late
more frequently,

particularly on Friday
when the Dire payroll
had to be checked out

against the remaining funds.

There were two keys
to the box.

Kern kept one.

I kept the other.

Sam Kern’s son was playing
his first basketball game
for State U that night.

Sam’s wife
had telephoned three times
to remind him

that they needed an early start
if they were going
to make it over icy roads.

[telephone ringing]

Naturally, he thought
it was his wife calling again.

Sam returned
with tragic news.

It had been
my telephone ringing, not his.

It was our housekeeper saying
that my wife...

had suffered
a severe heart attack.

I left at once.

[engine cranking]

Well, there are
four checks here
that aren’t covered, Mr. Kern.

-Are they in the same account?
-Yes, sir.

Let me see them.

Arnold, I can’t get
my car started.

-Can you give me a push?
-Certainly, Mr. Spengler.

It will take me a few minutes
to get my car
and bring it around front.

You told not to leave
that old heap of mine on the lot

where the customers
could see it.

Can I do anything, Will?

Yes. Will you call Dr. Clinton

and have him get over
to the house right away?

Certainly.

Mathias did bring his car around
and gave me the necessary push.

Afterwards, he went back inside.

Naturally, I didn’t return.

If you studied this case,
Mr. Taylor, you know that
that night...

my wife died.

And, uh, nobody locked
the strongbox?

Nobody.

Not even Sam realized
he left his key in it

until he opened the bank

in my absence,
the following Monday.

And he saw the box
was empty.

Mathias was arrested.

He never admitted
to taking the money.

But he was convicted,
Mr. Taylor.

This may be a small community,
but we don’t observe
the lynch law.

Arnold Mathias was defended
by Ira Casey,

one of the finest
defense attorneys in the state.

And I hired him.

Mathias was convicted
nonetheless.

The jury was only out
45 minutes.

Do you know what Mathias did
while he was in prison?

He obtained a set
of court records of his trial,

and he went over every word
of the testimony

until he found
what he was looking for.

He marked it off,
then he drew a map.

How do you know this?

A writer can’t reveal
his sources of information.
They might dry up.

Then why should I believe you?

Because I’m in possession
of those records and the map.

I thought you might like
to go over them with me,

if you really are interested
in my book.

Do you, uh...

really believe there’s
a market for such a book?

Yes, I do.

You see, there’s one
very interesting point
about this case.

If Mathias did take
the $200,000
from your vault,

what did he do with it?

Not one dollar of it
has ever been found.

Is... something wrong
with my letter of credit,
Mr. Spengler?

Will you excuse me a moment,
Mr. Taylor?

I want to see if Mr. Kern
is back.

"Arnold Mathias, 24,

convicted of stealing $200,000
from the Kirkland
Mercantile Bank

three years ago,

was shot and killed
this morning by a guard

while attempting
to escape from state prison.

A cellmate, Thomas Henry, 40,

made good his escape
in a laundry truck.

Are you a sailing man,
Mr. Spengler?

Never been to sea,
Mr. Taylor.

It’s, uh...

too bad Mathias
tried to escape.

He might have been paroled.

Well, parole boards
are notoriously slow
in this state,

and Mathias had no friends
to work for him
in the outside.

Now, that’s not true.

I hired Ira Casey.

Who was a college classmate
of yours and friend
of almost 30 years.

What’s wrong with that?

Nothing.

I would’ve considered
myself lucky
to have such a friend

if $200,000
had disappeared from my bank.

I hired Casey
to defend Mathias.

And the Kirkland
Mercantile Bank.

You know, that’s a very model
you have there, Mr. Spengler.

I don’t suppose you bought here
in Kirkland.

I’m not chained to Kirkland.

I get out occasionally.

Out.

You know,
that’s a very apt word, out.

That’s what Mathias wanted.

Out and a chance
to clear his name.

Or to recover the $200,000
from wherever he’d hidden it.

Yes, but where
could he have hidden it?

Now, suppose Mathias
did take the money
from the vault

but wasn’t convicted.

What could he do with it?

He couldn’t spend it
without creating suspicion
because, uh,

after all, he’s a bank teller
on a fixed income,

just as your Mr. Kern
is a bank officer
on a fixed income.

Mmm-hmm.

And just as I am
a bank president
on a fixed income.

That’s my point.

Now the man who took
that money out of the vault

would have had
to do one of three things.

First,
he could leave Kirkland,

which Mathias didn’t.

It’s here in the records.

Mathias made no attempt
to leave Kirkland.

Instead, he went
to a movie Friday night.
Alone.

He caught cold.

And according
to his landlady’s testimony,

he stayed in his room
all day Saturday and Sunday.

I know what’s in the record.
I was at the trial.

Here’s one of the sections
that Mathias bracketed.

The district attorney
questioned your housekeeper,
Mrs. Holmes,

and she explained exactly
what she had done
following your wife’s attack.

She gave her the medicine
prescribed by Dr. Clinton.

Question.

"Was Mrs. Spengler subject
to such attacks?"

Answer. "Yes, sir."

"We knew it was only
a matter of time.

I gave her the medicine,
got her to bed,
then called Dr. Clinton.

He asked me to call
Mr. Spengler right away."

-Mmm-hmm
-"That’s what I did."

Yeah. And what are you trying
to prove?

I’m not trying
to prove anything.

I’m just trying to discover
what Mathias had hoped to prove.

Now, here.

A few pages further on,

another bracketed section
appears.

This time
it’s Sam Kern’s testimony

where he tells
of your difficulty

in getting your car started.

This part is underlined.

"Mr. Spengler came back
into the bank.

He asked me
to call Dr. Clinton."

I wonder why Mathias
would underline that.

You said, uh...

whoever took the money

could’ve done one
of three things with it.

What’s the second one?

The second things that could’ve
been done with the money was
as you suggested, to hide it.

But where could have Mathias
hidden it?

His room was searched
at the time of his arrest.

His car was completely
torn apart.

Where did he hide,
Mr. Spengler?

[knock on door]

Yes?

Mr. Spengler, you said
you wanted this report
the minute it came in.

Oh.

Has Mr. Kern returned yet?

Mr. Kern went to lunch.

At this hour?

It’s after eleven,
Mr. Spengler.

Mr. Kern always goes
to lunch at this hour

in order to be back
for the noon rush.

I was just going myself
if you don’t need me.

No, no, no. That’s quite
all right. Go ahead.

[shuts door]

Where did he hide it,
Mr. Spengler?

Mr. Taylor...

you’ve quoted Ira Casey’s
summation to the jury
almost verbatim.

The only thing you’ve omitted

was his sentimental reference
to Mathias’ tragic childhood.

Sentimental?

Does that denote disapproval?

Oh, I hired Casey.

Unfortunately for Mathias,
Ira Casey was a friend,
with a friend’s loyalty

and a friend’s blindness.

Didn’t you know that

Mrs. Holmes had called
Dr. Clinton before
she called you?

After all, your wife
was his patient
and had been for some time.

Yet, you asked Mr. Kern
to go to the telephone

at the opposite end
of the bank

and make a call
which had certainly
been made already.

As a result,
you were alone in the vault
for several minutes.

What was you
third possibility?

You told me
a very interesting story
a few minutes ago, Mr. Spengler,

and an accurate one, except
for some important details.

I’d like to point them out
to you.

The Dire deposit
must have been a temptation
to you from the beginning.

Your marriage had been
an unhappy one,

and your father-in-law
was a domineering tyrant.

And you had
a readymade suspect
working right in the bank.

A record’s a tough thing
to live down,

even a juvenile record.

The public is seldom forgiving
when someone has made off
with a bank deposit.

Strikes too close
to the paycheck.

That’s what you were
really thinking that day
when a half a million dollars

moved into the vault
of the farmers and merchants
of Kirkland.

And then,
on the day of the theft,

the day when Sam Kern
was anxious to get away early

and Mathias was working late,

your wife suffered
another heart attack,

which gave you the chance
you’d been waiting for
all these months.

You must have recognized it
instantly.

All you needed to do
was clear the vault area
for a few minutes.

And then,
when the job was done,

be able to go home
to your stricken wife

while Mathias
was still at work
in the last teller’s cage,

and while the vault,

with the unlocked strongbox
inside,

was still standing open.

The first step
was to get Mathias
out of the bank.

That was a little tricky.

It’s a small matter
to flood an engine.

And on a cold
and miserable December day,

no one would be likely
to question your story

that the car
just wouldn’t start.

You knew Mathias would be gone
for several minutes.

His car was a good 200 yards
away according to the map
in this case.

That left only Kern to get out
of the way.

Leaving you alone,

only a few steps away,

from $200,000.

And no one in all this time
has thought to look
for the Dire funds

in that third
and only possible place.

That $200,000 was never found,
Spengler,

because it never left
this bank!

It’s here now,
in the vault,

in your own deposit box.

Is that what Mathias
told you

when you were cellmates,
Mr. Henry?

The name is Taylor.
Henry Taylor.

You didn’t think
a small-town banker

would be clever enough to check
on that letter of credit,
did you?

Huh? Well, I did.

When I went outside
I had Ms. Foster call
that bank in Chicago,

and that bank in Chicago
has no record of a letter
of credit having been issued

to any Henry Taylor.

Do you think you can come
in here off the street
and blackmail me

with marked records
and a ridiculous map?

I don’t care
what a dead convict suspected!

We’re not discussing
what a dead convict suspected!

There’s one thing you don’t know
about the convict
who didn’t die.

He wasn’t serving time
for anything as petty
as grand theft.

Thomas Henry’s a killer.

Thomas Henry
is a convicted murderer
with nothing to lose.

All I have to do
is to dial that phone!

And Henry’s rough.

He can make the Sphinx talk
if it would lead him
to $200,000.

Now go ahead and dial it!

The number
for the police station
is 1-1-6.

No. Now don’t be a fool.

Have you ever been worked over
by a really desperate man,
Spengler?

Look...

why should you be concerned
with Mathias?

Everybody thinks
he took the money.

Besides, he’s dead.

But he didn’t take it,
did he?

It’s in the vault, isn’t it?

Yes.

Most of it.

Now, be reasonable.

We can make a deal.

Thank you, Mr. Spengler.

We already have.

You made a mistake thinking
I was that escape convict.

I’m not Thomas Henry.

But I was certain
that I could ring a confession
out of you

if I got here before Henry.

Lucky for you, I did.

My name is Lowden.

It’s Henry Taylor Lowden.

I was the guard at state prison
who shot Mathias when
he tried to escape.

I didn’t know
he was innocent.

That’s why I’m here.

[police officer]
Kirkland Police Station.

I shall never again accept
a political nomination

without knowing the identity
of the office involved.

I like being a collector,

but I rather hoped
it would be taxes, not rubbish.

Perhaps I can resign next time
when we reassemble
at this same hall.

Until then, goodnight.