Original subtitles

Good evening,

and welcome to tonight’s pleasure cruise.

Our social director is very resourceful and cooperative.

[thud]

Our friend is getting a bit nervous.

However, he doesn’t mind darts.

But some of the passengers are interested in skeet shooting,

using him as a skeet.

Tonight, our crowded schedule of fun games includes a drama,

called "The Last Remains."

First, however, a word from our skipper.

[telephone rings]

Silver Glen Mortuary, Amos Duff speaking.

Oh, good morning, sir. Uh...

Oh, I-I have your bill right here in my desk.

I’ll get a check in the mail this morning.

Yes, sir. Y-yes. Goodbye.

[sighs]

[door opens]

[door closes]

Morning, Mr. Duff. Nice day for a change, huh?

Well, Stanley, I’m glad to see you’re over your virus.

Oh, yeah, I’m OK now, Mr. Duff.

-Stanley... -Yes, sir?

That shirt...

You like it? I’ve got four of ’em on sale.

Stanley...

Do you really think a shirt like that

is in keeping with the dignity of this establishment?

Oh, the stiffs don’t mind.

Don’t ever use that vulgar word.

And I’m not referring to the deceased.

I’m referring to customers.

Oh, them.

Ain’t seen many of them around lately.

But you’re mistaken. I had one only yesterday,

while you were recuperating. I picked up the body myself.

The late Mr. Robert Kessler. He’s in the back now.

Swell!

I mean, I’m glad business is picking up, Mr. Duff.

Well, I’m afraid it isn’t picking up in the grand style.

The gentleman who made the arrangements

is Mr. Kessler’s business partner.

Foley. Marvin Foley.

Seems that Mr. Foley doesn’t care very much

about his partner’s farewell rites.

He ordered the Number Five funeral.

Number Five?

The economy service.

I mean, we won’t get rich on that.

Gee...

I’m sorry, Mr. Duff.

Yes. We’re living in a changed society, Stanley.

The old values are disappearing.

You know how many Class A funerals I’ve sold in the past five years?

-No, sir. -Not a single one.

And yet, for the splendid services I offer,

-the price is remarkably low. -That’s too bad, Mr. Duff.

I mean, no funeral director in this city

can offer a more elaborate service.

I mean, not just flowers, Stanley, but...

But a gigantic wreath, in the shape of a harp.

You see the significance?

-Yes, sure. -I put my heart and soul

into designing the Class A funeral.

And what happens?

I mean, all they want is a...

Is a plain box with,

with brass handles and a...

and a rush, rush service.

Now is that any way to treat our loved ones?

That’s a shame.

Not a single Class A funeral?

Not a one.

Sometimes, I...

I think the only Class A funeral I’ll ever sell

will be my own.

However, with the way business is now,

I doubt if I could afford it myself.

Well, I guess I better go take a look at the old boy.

-What? -I mean Mr. Kessler.

That’s better.

-You go ahead, Stanley. -Yes, sir.

[telephone rings]

Silver Glen Mortuary, Amos Duff speaking.

Oh. Oh, good morning, Mr. Davis.

I... Yes.

I, yes, I know it’s two month overdue.

I’ll get a check in the mail this week.

You can count on it, yes.

Uh, goodbye.

I just saw Kessler.

-What? -You know, the new job.

Boy, is he a mess. What happened to him, Mr. Duff?

Oh, auto accident. Poor fellow.

I’m afraid the damage was rather extensive,

but Mr. Foley doesn’t wish any major repairs.

Hey, you know there’s a funny kind of a puncture right over his rib cage.

Puncture? Oh, I didn’t notice that.

Yeah, well, it’s there all right.

Oh, I think I’ll go have another look at it.

Hey, do you want me to vacuum up front?

Uh, oh, first throw that rubbish out in the back.

Yes, sir.

[whistling]

You were right, Stanley. There is a puncture.

-I’ve got good eyes. 20/20. -So you have.

It’s a strange kind of wound. I mean, for an accident.

Well, I suppose some foreign body could have lodged there.

Some mechanical part, perhaps.

But, then again, it could be something else.

I’ve seen similar wounds before, but they were usually caused by...

By a bullet.

A bullet?

But you said the guy was in a crash.

But that’s what the death certificate stated.

Oh... Oh, I...

Oh, I suppose it’s just a puncture of some sort.

Nothing to worry about.

You know, Stanley?

You still don’t look very well to me.

I don’t?

Well, you have to be careful

with these viruses.

Very easy to have a relapse.

Maybe you should take the day off.

You mean it, Mr. Duff?

-Certainly. Go ahead. -Oh, gee, thanks!

So long, Mr. Duff!

I’ll see you tomorrow!

Here you are.

The March 9th newspaper you requested.

Be sure to return it to my desk when you’re through.

Yes, thank you.

[Amos] "Executive killed in crash. March 8th.

Robert D. Kessler, 51, president of the Kayjay toy company,

was killed last night in an auto owned and driven

by his business partner, Marvin J. Foley.

Both men are of Harrington,

Mr. Kessler and his partner

were returning from a hunting trip in Maine."

Hunting trip in Maine?

Mr. Foley’s has seen the toys. You may come up now.

-Yes? -I’d like to see Mr. Foley, please.

-Appointment? -Oh, well, no.

Uh, my name is Amos Duff.

I’m the proprietor of the Silver Glen Mortuary.

I want to see Mr. Foley about...

Well, about the arrangements for Mr. Kessler.

Oh, I see.

Mr. Foley, there’s a Mr. Glen of the Silver Duff Mortuary here.

-Do you want to see him? -[chuckles] It’s, uh, Silver Glen.

-I’m Duff. -[loud buzzing]

You may go in, Mr. Glen.

Well, what is it, Mr. Duff?

I thought we settled everything yesterday.

Oh, yes, so we did.

That’s right. I ordered your...

What do you call it? Your economy-class funeral?

And that’s what I want.

As I told you, Mr. Kessler had no family,

so I see no point in having anything any more elaborate.

Oh, yes, I recall that.

Uh, I didn’t come to talk about the funeral, Mr. Foley.

-Oh? -Not exactly.

It’s just that I...

Well, I discovered something rather...

[exhales]

Unusual.

Unusual?

Sit down, Mr. Duff.

What do you mean "unusual"?

Well, you remember that you instructed me

not to bother about cosmetic repairs to...

Poor Mr. Kessler?

Hmm? So?

Well, nevertheless I did find...

[exhales]

Well, shall I say, unsightly wound.

Go on.

Perhaps I...

Don’t have to be explicit?

Oh, no.

I rather think that you do.

Oh...

Well, I-I, sorry. I suppose I just made a mistake.

I’ll fill up the customary police report.

Just a minute.

Sit down.

Here, have a cigarette, Mr. Duff.

-Well, thank you! -You’re welcome.

It’s not that I want to make any kind of fuss, Mr. Foley,

but, I’ve been embalming bodies for a good number of years now

and I can pretty well spot a bullet wound when I see one.

Bullet wound?

Mr. Duff, that’s ridiculous.

Mr. Kessler was killed in an automobile accident.

I think I should know.

I was there.

Yes, of course.

But about this puncture,

it does rather resemble a bullet hole.

Well, of course I haven’t probed for any bullets yet.

But I could do that.

It looks like the sort of wound that might be made by, say,

a high-speed rifle with a steel-jacketed bullet.

You know, the kind they use for hunting?

And this bothers you, does it?

Oh, no, no. I-I wouldn’t say that.

Well, to be blunt, Mr. Foley,

it seems a shame that a, that a man of Mr. Kessler’s standing should...

Should be put to rest with so little fanfare.

I mean, it’s like an insult to his memory.

-Don’t you agree? -I don’t know,

I’ve got a few reminders of my old partner.

The factory. Even this office.

It belonged to him too.

Well, it just doesn’t seem right to me.

An economy-class funeral for an executive like Mr. Kessler?

And what do you suggest, Mr. Duff?

I would suggest something more fitting.

A full-scale funeral with all the trimmings.

Nothing but the best.

In our catalog, we refer to it as the "Class A."

Class A, huh?

I see.

Frankly, Mr. Foley,

I doubt if there’s a better funeral value in town

than our Class A service.

Not just flowers, mind you, but a gigantic wreath

in the shape of a lovely harp.

-You see the significance? -Yes, I do.

And I think it’s very, very clever of you, Mr. Duff.

And not just music, Mr. Foley,

but a special recording I had made of "Angels Sing Thee To Thy Rest."

-As for the coffin itself-- -Mr. Duff.

Exactly how much will this Class A funeral of yours cost me?

$1800.

-But let me tell you what else-- -$1800, huh?

$1800...

Would that include cremation?

Cremation?

Cremation.

Well, yes it could, I suppose.

Good.

You know, now that I stop to think of it,

Mr. Kessler once mentioned something

about wanting to be cremated.

I think we should respect that wish, don’t you?

Oh, by all means!

Now, here.

Here’s a check for $600.

-I paid you $150 yesterday. -Uh-huh.

That’s a total of $750.

The rest of it you’ll get just as soon as Mr. Kessler has been cremated, hmm?

Well, thank you, Mr. Foley. That’s very thoughtful of you.

Uh-huh.

Oh, I certainly hope we can do more business together.

Good morning, Mr. Duff.

Good morning, Stanley.

[clears throat]

Well, it’s, uh, payday today, ain’t it, Mr. Duff?

Well, anything wrong?

Well, it’s just that you sort of promised me a raise

if I stayed with you three months.

Well, I’m sorry about that, Stanley,

but business hasn’t been so good lately.

What with the recession and all.

Oh, I didn’t think that would affect your business.

Well, you’d be surprised.

Besides, I’m having a little trouble with the accounts receivable.

Well, what about the Kessler funeral last month?

That was a blockbuster, Mr. Duff,

I never saw so many flowers in my whole life!

Well, that’s just what I mean.

Mr. Foley hasn’t paid the balance of his bill yet.

I sent him three notices already and I haven’t heard a word.

Why don’t you call him in his office?

Well, you think I haven’t tried?

I’ve called him five times this week

and he’s always in conference.

Mr. Duff...

Do you think that he’s a deadbeat?

Well, he’d better not be.

Hello, I want to speak to Mr. Marvin Foley, please.

Never mind who this is, just put me through to Mr. Foley.

What? What, oh-oh, all right.

It’s Amos Duff of the Silver Glen Mortuary and I--

Now, look! You’ve been giving me that story every time I’ve called!

I want to speak to Mr. Foley and I want to speak to him right now!

Well, now listen here!

I’ll disturb him plenty if he don’t talk to me!

Now, if you’d like to leave a message--

Wait a minute, what’s going on out here?

-Oh, hello, Mr. Foley. -Oh, so it’s you, huh?

I just thought I’d drop by

and discuss that little business matter of ours.

OK, come on inside.

I’m sorry to break in on you like this, Mr. Foley,

but it’s been so difficult to reach you.

Well, what you want to see me about?

Well, you know. Your bill.

You know, I’d almost given up hope.

I’ve sent you three notices for the balance and you haven’t answered.

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

What? Well, of course you do, Mr. Foley.

The bill for Mr. Kessler’s funeral.

The Class A arrangement.

Oh, it was a really beautiful affair.

But I was under the impression

the bill had already been paid in full.

Well, no, sir.

I-I mean, we discussed it right here in your office.

Oh, yes, I remember the conversation very distinctly.

You were very persuasive about getting Mr. Kessler

your Class A service, and that’s what Mr. Kessler got.

Your Class A service.

Well, yes, sir, but about the bill...

The bill has already been paid in full, Mr. Duff.

If you don’t believe me, I suggest that you consult the pricelist

in your own catalog.

You don’t have a service that costs more than $750.

And I have cancelled checks for exactly that amount.

But these circumstances were different!

-Different how? -Well, you know.

You were going to pay me $1800.

I was going to pay you $1800 for a $750 funeral?

You apparently don’t think I’m much of a business man, Mr. Duff.

Well, now look, if you think you can get away with this...

Get away with what?

Well, you know darn well what! With murder!

Well, what you intend to do about it?

-Call the police? -Well, you think I won’t?

And what would you show the police, Mr. Duff?

The bullet hole in Mr. Kessler’s body?

No. You’re not gonna be foolish enough

to make a ridiculous statement like that to the police.

After all, there’s a death certificate

that proves that Mr. Kessler was killed

in an automobile accident.

And you have no proof to the contrary.

You ought to know that, Mr. Duff.

You buried the evidence yourself.

[sighs]

Now, look.

Why don’t you be a nice fella and forget the whole thing, huh?

Suppose we make it $1500?

Not another penny.

If I pay you one cent more than you’re entitled to, I’ll be paying you forever.

So I don’t intend to start now.

You’re a pretty shrewd businessman, Mr. Duff.

And this is just good business.

Don’t you agree?

Thank you, Tom.

All right. If you’d just sign that statement, Mr. Duff?

It’s just as you dictated it.

You better check it out to be sure.

OK, Sarge, you can bring them in now.

Uh, Lieutenant, do I have to be here when Mr. Foley comes in?

I’m afraid you do, Mr. Duff.

But it won’t take long.

Look, this is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Dragging me down here like this.

Take it easy, Mr. Foley.

I’m Lieutenant Morgan.

OK, boys.

So it’s you.

I suppose this was your idea,

you jerky little crack pot?

I said take it easy, Mr. Foley.

Perhaps you don’t realize that you’re facing a very serious charge.

A serious charge?

-Are you kidding-- -No, I’m not kidding.

But this man is a screwball. Uh--

Look, Lieutenant, I don’t know what he’s been telling you,

all I know is that he’s nothing but a liar and a thief.

That’s what we’re here to find out, Mr. Foley.

Now if you’d just sit down, we can talk this over calmly.

OK.

Mr. Foley, this rifle belong to you?

Well, of course it does. Your men took it from my apartment.

They had a warrant, sir.

It’s a nice looking weapon.

-Thank you. -I, uh,

suppose you have a hunting license for it?

Well, it’s a hunting rifle, naturally I have a hunting license.

Mm-hm.

Mr. Duff here, seems to think that, uh,

you had another use for this weapon.

To dispose of your late business partner, Robert Kessler.

What is this, some kind of a joke?

Mr. Kessler was killed in an automobile crash.

I have a death certificate.

We have a photostat of it.

-Well, have you read it? -Of course I’ve read it.

And you still believe this, this penny-ante little gravedigger here?

Mr. Duff told us a very disturbing story, Mr. Foley.

It, uh, raises a possibility

that the coroner might have missed something during his examination.

What possibility?

That you shot and killed your partner

before your car went over the aqueduct.

Trusting that the body would be so damaged,

the bullet hole would go unnoticed.

Look, Lieutenant, this whole thing is absolutely ridiculous.

It’s-it’s just not true.

But I’m afraid it is, Mr. Foley?

We got evidence to the contrary.

That’s why we brought you down here.

What do you mean "evidence"?

What evidence could you have?

Oh...

Well, you see, Mr. Foley.

You requested that Mr. Foley’s body be cremated.

-Mm-hm. -And in such cases,

we like to supply a little memento

of the "loved one" to their closest kin or friend.

It’s all part of the Class A service.

You see, the bullet was steel-jacketed,

so it didn’t really melt.

[metallic rattle]

When they found the bullet among the ashes,

they included it among the remains.

[nervous laugh]

That’s why I had to come to the police.

Too bad Mr. Foley didn’t consider burial at sea.

It’s simple and inexpensive.

Besides, the trip back can be much more enjoyable for the bereaved.

All that sea air, you know.

And now that I mention it,

I see a quantity of hot air coming our way.

I shall re-emerge after it has passed by.

I’m pacifying our social director

by playing a game of his choosing.

I’m to pin the tail on the donkey.

Fortunately, you do not have to suffer through this childish nonsense.

You may be excused until next week at the same time.

So, until then, goodnight.