All language subtitles for Alfred.Hitchcock.Presents.S06E06.Pen.Pal.1080p.PCOK.WEBRip.AAC.2.0.H.265.-EDGE2020_track3_[eng]

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

A number of persons
have written asking me

to explain the game
of baseball.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this,
but some of those who wrote

were professional ballplayers.

And I sense a tone of urgency
in their appeals.

Baseball gets its name
from the type of field

on which it’s played,

a baseball field.

There are 27 players
on each team.

However, no more than 13

are allowed on the field
at one time.

Nine from one team,

and from one to four
from the other.

To make it a fair match,

the team with the smaller
number of players

is allowed to carry clubs.

The larger team
has no weapons at all,

except this pellet.

But it is hard enough
to knock a man unconscious.

Naturally, both teams
occasionally use their fists,

but this is
usually unnecessary.

You see all players
having ingeniously attached

sharply-pointed metal cleats
to their shoes.

With these,
the more experienced players

can, with grace and skill,
badly lacerate an opponent,

yet, make it look
quite accidental.

As you can see the game
is an excellent means

for building character

and teaching young men
good sportsmanship,

fair play and first aid.

So much for the finer points
of the sport.

I see our friend the umpire
is signaling for timeout.

The game will commence
in just one minute.

[doorbell ringing]

Yes?

Is this the home
of Miss Lowen?

Yes.

I’m Lieutenant Berger, ma’am,
of the Eighth Precinct.

Here’s my identification.

-Police?
-That’s right?

-May I come in?
-Wha...?

This won’t take too long,
Miss Lowen.

Is it "Miss"?

Yes, it is.

Do people call you Margie?

No, never.

I’m sorry, the only name we had
to work with was Margie.

Oh, then you want my niece.

She’s my brother’s child,
named after me.

What do you want
with Margie?

[Berger] Does your niece
live here with you?

Yes, but she isn’t here now.

She left this morning
to spend the weekend

with college friends.

Why do you want to see Margie?

Tell me something
about your niece, Miss Lowen.

Has she lived with you long?

About nine years.

Her father was killed
in the Second World War,

and her mother died
several years after that.

That’s when she came
to live with me.

She’s almost
like my own child, really.

How old is she?

[Miss Lowen]
She’ll be 21 next March.

Is she a popular girl?
Does she have many friends?

Isn’t that a pretty
silly question?

Why should the police care
whether Margie’s popular
or not?

Believe me, Miss Lowen,
I have a reason.

She’s popular enough.

I just told you she’s spending
the weekend with friends.

So you did.

Now...

...is this her photograph?

[Miss Lowen] Yes, this is
a picture of Margie.

Where’d you get it?

Well, I’m gonna have
to tell you something

that may shock you,
Miss Lowen.

And it wouldn’t be
any of our business

if it wasn’t
for what happened.

But under the circumstances,
I’m going to have

to tell you something
about your niece

you may not know about.

Some two years ago,
she started a correspondence

with a man named Rod Collins.

So?

[Berger] I’m not saying
there was any harm in it.

Maybe you knew all about it.

No, I didn’t know
anything about it.

But I still don’t why
the poli...

You see, this Collins
got your niece’s name

through one of these
pen pal clubs.

You know the kind.
They run ads
in romance magazines,

places like that.

Lonely heart stuff.

Collins has been sending
his letters to a box number,

and your niece
has been picking them up
at the post office.

That’s why you never saw them.

We managed to trace
this address

through one
of the pen pal clubs.

And how did you get
the picture?

Well, that was
in the correspondence

we found it in Collins’ cell.

His cell?

Rod Collins is a prisoner
at the state penitentiary,
ma’am, a lifer.

What?

He got mixed up
with some bad characters
when he was just a kid,

killed a man
in a fur robbery.

They would’ve given him
the chair, but seeing
he was so young,

they commuted the sentence
to life imprisonment

with no chance of parole.

He’s only about twenty-six
or seven now.

I just can’t believe it.

Margie wouldn’t be interested
in a man like that.

Please don’t be too rough
on her, ma’am.

You know how it is.
Something romantic
about the whole situation.

Now, we found this other stuff
in Collins’ cell.

Maybe you would like
to look at some of the letters.

Well, yes, I would.

I’m sorry about this,
Miss Lowen.

But I can tell you this much.
There was really no harm in it.

I mean, they censor all the mail
at the penitentiary.

But maybe if you read one...

"Dearest Rod,

you say you would give anything
to be with me.

Believe me, I long for that
as much as you do.

If only there were some way
to make these wild dreams
come true.

Sometimes I think I would give
everything else up, if only...

you and I could live out
our lives together.

Through our letters,

we can dream and live our love,
even though...

language has not the power
to speak what love indites,

the soul lies buried
in the ink that writes."

You see, on the up-and-up.

Lieutenant.

You said yourself there’s
noting wrong about all this.

Then why did you come here?

Because things have changed.

Yesterday Rod Collins
took part in a jailbreak.

-Oh.
-Now, two of the three men
who escaped

have been recaptured.

Collins is still loose.

He’s escaped...

Oh, dear heavens.

Well, why should Margie
be involved?

What has she to do with this?

Simply this, Miss Lowen--

Collins would want
a place to hide.

He’ll need money.
He’ll need help.

He has no family,
no friends we know of.

It seems logical that he
will straight here for Margie.

What can we do?

Please, don’t be alarmed.

He’ll expect an ally,
not an enemy.

He’ll probably be armed,

but if you’re calm,
you’ll be all right.

If he gets this far.

Now, chances are
we’ll catch up with him

before he does.

But if he does try
to contact your niece,

we’ll have officers staked out
nearby to pick him up

before there’s any trouble.

Thank heavens
Margie isn’t here.

Yes, that’s a break for us.

You might as well give me
her address, just in case.

Well...

I really don’t know it myself.

All I know is that it’s
some place in Larchmont,

the home of a girl
named Gloria Baker.

Well, if you don’t know it,
I’m sure Collins won’t.

What can I do?

We’re sure we’ll be able
to stop Collins

in case he gets within striking
distance of your house.

Well, pretty sure, anyway.

If we don’t, I’ll give you
a number for you to call.

And one other thing,
Miss Lowen.

I wouldn’t call your niece
to tell her about this.

She might do
something foolish.

No, no, I wouldn’t dream
of telling Margie.

Do you expect to hear
from her this weekend?

She said she might call me
tonight around 9:00

just to tell me she’s
all right.

I see.

Well, we’ll keep in touch

in case there are any further
developments, Miss Lowen.

Lieutenant!

Yes?

This won’t have to come out,
will it?

I mean, about Margie’s letters
to this man?

Not if we can help it,
Miss Lowen.

-Thank you, lieutenant.
-Good day.

[tapping]

[scraping]

[screams]

Hold it right there, lady.

I’m not gonna hurt you.

You just relax.

You’ll be all right.

Now, don’t scream.

Don’t do anything.

Just sit down.

-What is it you want?
-I said sit down.

You’re Margie’s aunt, right?

Yes.

She mentioned you
once or twice.

I guess she--

I guess she never told you
about me, huh?

-No, she didn’t.
-Yeah.

You know what I am,
don’t you?

I’m a convict.

All right, where is she?

Margie’s not here.
She went away.

Don’t you give me that.

It’s true.

She went away this morning
to visit a college friend.

She’ll gone all weekend,

Now, look.
Don’t you lie to me, lady.

You’re Margie’s aunt,
and I wouldn’t want to hurt you.

Where’d she go?
When do you expect her back?

I don’t expect her back,

not till Monday.

It’s no use your waiting here
for her.

Where’s this place she’s at?

I don’t know.
I don’t remember.

You’re lying to me, lady.

You’ve got to believe me.

She’s visiting a friend
of hers named Gloria.

She didn’t tell me
where she lived,

just that it was
upstate somewhere.

What do you want
with Margie?

What’s Margie
have to do with you?

More than you know, lady.

You got anything
to eat around here?

There’s something
in the kitchen.

Show me.

You be very careful.

Sit down here.

Sit down here.
You make me nervous!

Look, lady, I don’t want
to be rough on you.

I mean, you’re Margie’s aunt.

That stands for a lot
with me.

Why should it?

Because I’m in love
with Margie, that’s why.

And she’s in love with me.

That isn’t true.
That can’t be true.

-You’ve never even seen
my niece.
-I’ve seen her.

Well, in a photograph--

I didn’t need a photograph,
lady.

I know what she’s like
from her letters.

Doesn’t make sense.

Maybe it doesn’t make sense
to you, lady.

Guess maybe I wouldn’t
expect it to make sense to you.

I have been writing your niece
for two years.

And she’s been writing back.

I know her better than anybody
else in this whole world,

maybe even better than you do.

She’s the best thing
that’s ever happened to me.

Even if you felt that way,

Margie couldn’t.
She just couldn’t.

I know how she felt.

-She’s just a child.
-She’s not a child.

You wouldn’t
understand anything,

you dried up old crab!

How could you
understand anything?

Look, lady, listen.
Listen to me.

You’ve got to see how it is.

I really love your niece.

I love her.
I wouldn’t hurt her

for anything in this world.

I just want to see her.
I just want to--

just want to talk with her.

Now-- Now,
you’ve got to help me.

I can’t.

All right.

All right, now,
listen to me.

You know how old I was
when they shoved me

in the pen up there?

I was 18 years old.

And you know how long I’ve been
up there, lady?

I’ve been up there
for nine years.

You know how rotten lonely
you can get in prison?

With a thousand
other guys all around you...

...and you’re lonely.

You know what loneliness
can do to you, lady?

I do. I do know.

No, you just think you know.

You don’t know nothing,
lady!

I mean, you don’t know
nothing at all!

No. Now, listen.

Lady, when Margie and me
started writing
those letters...

it was like I’d
come to life again.

I mean, I was up there dead,

I was buried!

And Margie wrote
these letters to me,
and she made me alive.

Don’t you see that?

Maybe Margie was trying
to be kind to you.

She was always a kind girl.

Even as a child she was always
bringing home stray cats

and sick animals.

But that’s something different
from love.

You must see that.

I’m no sick animal, lady!

I’m a human being
just like you are.

You don’t know Margie,
even if you think you do.

When her parents died,

she needed someone to love.

At first, there was me
and then as she grew older,

she needed something else.

But this isn’t real love
that you’re talking about.

I’m going to make it real.
Don’t you see that, lady?

That’s exactly why I broke out.
I’ve got to make it real!

And how long would it last?

You can’t go on
running forever.

I know.

I know that, lady.

I’m going to take her
away with me.

We’ll-- We’ll just leave
the country.

And Margie will go with me.
I know she will.

Even if she would,
how could you live?

Could you make a living?
Do you even have a trade?

Yes.

I was in the prison
machine shop for nine years.

I’m the best lathe man there.
I could walk into any job,

any place in this country
right now.

With one eye on your work

and the other watching
for the police.

Margie isn’t made
for that kind of life.

You can’t ask her
to do it.

[sobbing]

If you leave right away,
you’ll have
a much better chance

of getting away.

And you must forget
about Margie.

Maybe if
I could just see her.

I just want to see her,
just want to look at her

just for one minute.

I’m afraid that’s impossible.

Well, I’ve got to see her!

I went through a lot
to see her, lady,

and you ain’t
going to stop me.

-I can’t help you.
-Yes, you can.

You could call her for me,

and don’t tell me you don’t
know where to reach her.

Because I won’t believe that.

All right,
I will call her for you.

[dialing rotary numbers]

Hello.

This is Margie Lowen’s aunt.

Could Margie come
to the phone?

Yes.

Is Collins there?

Just answer yes if he is.

[Miss Lowen] Yes.
Yes, that’s right.

Does he have a gun?

I don’t think so.

All right.

[Berger]
Now, keep him talking to you.

Try to hold him there
as long as you can.

I’ll have a squad there
right away.

[slams down receiver]

So, you were to call
Margie for me?

That’s how you would have
helped me, by calling the cops?

Please go away.

We can’t help you here!
Please, go away!

You think I’ll let you get
away with this?

You think you can double-cross
me just because you’re
Margie’s aunt?

Don’t come any closer!
Don’t come any closer!

There. How does that feel?

Feels great.

You got a cigarette?

Think you can make it
on your feet?

Yeah, I can make it.

[door closes]

Well, that about does it,
Miss Lowen.

And I want to thank you
for your help.

Don’t bother to get up.
I’ll see myself out.

Oh. I would take the sedative,
Miss Lowen.

Try to get some rest.

I’ll do that.

Good night, Miss Lowen.

Good night, lieutenant.

[Miss Lowen] Dearest Rod...

I’ve just learned from
my aunt about what happened.

And I can’t tell you
how grieved I’m by your
dreadful experience.

Will you think me
terribly hard-hearted

when I make this confession?

I’m glad you’re back
in prison, Rod.

Glad that we still have
these letters

to share between us.

These letters that have come
to mean so much

to both of us
these past two years.

Oh, my darling.

My poor darling.

[sobbing]

And so the curtain falls
on our play

"Pen Pal,"

which remains me,

I must write this note
to a pal in the bullpen.

It’s time for our
seventh-inning stretch,

after which I shall steal home.

I have an announcement to make,

which you will all
be overjoyed to hear.

There will be
no more commercials,

positively no more commercials,

during the balance
of this program.

So, until next week
at this time,

goodnight.