Original subtitles

Logic's another thing I have a lot of trouble

with, that's because it is one of my favorites.

So I did the logical thing.

Patience ranks right in there someplace between logic and shopping.

But whoever was in my house, I figured I could outlast them.

I had the groceries.

Yes?

Are you the lady of the house?

What do you want?

I'm from George's Market.

I got the groceries here.

Well, just leave them there.

Yeah, wait a minute.

It's $14.23.

What?

Oh, we don't have charge accounts.

$14.23.

Oh, well.

Just a minute.

What's the matter?

Why don't you try the Sugar Bowl?

What?

Sugar Bowl. In the kitchen.

Most people keep their grocery money in the Sugar Bowl.

Oh. Yes.

How'd you hurt your foot?

I cut it. On some rocks.

There.

It's $15. You can keep the change.

Thank you.

I guess I better take a look at your foot.

There's a first aid kit in the bathroom.

Hey. Sit down.

Go on, sit down.

I'm sorry.

For what?

Breaking and entering.

I needed a place to stay.

It's a sea urchin.

What?

You stepped on a sea urchin.

They have these little spines. They're very poisonous.

Will you let me stay here?

The cut's gonna be all right, but the spines

have to work their way out themselves.

Some people have a very violent reaction to them.

Please.

You wanna tell me about it?

No.

You in trouble with the police?

No.

Where do you live?

In a place.

You have any friends?

No.

Won't you just take me on faith?

My name is Harry.

Harry.

It's Marilyn.

All right, Marilyn, get out of your wet clothes and put this on.

You belong to my neighbor.

Harry, promise me you won't tell anyone where I am.

I'll be your best friend.

Promise.

Two hours later, her temperature was up to 103.

Same thing happens to me with bee stings.

One man's honey.

Promise or no promise, it was time for me to

start practicing medicine without a license.

What's that?

All right, just easy. Relax. Easy.

It's all right. Just relax.

There. That's it.

There. Easy now.

Just an antibiotic.

You promised.

You'll be all right in a couple of hours.

Harry, I wanna talk to you.

You promised you wouldn't tell anybody.

Being a best friend is not always that simple.

Yeah.

She tell you her name?

Marilyn.

Marilyn what?

Just Marilyn.

The laundry tag on that dress says Los Robles.

Marilyn Los Robles.

Harry, Los Robles is a mental hospital.

It is also the name of a hardware store in Oceanside.

Well, I'm gonna have to check it out, Harry.

Bob, I already broke one promise.

Well, I didn't make one.

Her name is Marilyn Sidwell.

She was on a controlled outing from the hospital.

A boat trip with 15 other patients.

When they got back to the dock, she was missing.

No one knew whether she fell overboard or she had deliberately tried to escape.

We've been looking for her all day.

I hope you're proud of yourself.

I don't belong in a mental institution.

I'm there only because it suits other people's needs.

I'm as sane as you are, Mr. Orwell.

Pluto died the same way.

Being as sane as I am may not be the highest recommendation in the world.

But another one of my least favorite things is betraying a trust.

I wasn't particularly proud of myself.

I promised to dig up the answers for most of my questions.

But there was one I was pretty sure I could stump him with.

Pluto is a big, funny-looking dog, Harry.

He belongs to Mickey Mouse.

Now, Mickey Mouse is a fictional rodent married to a lady mouse named Minnie.

And, you know, one of their best friends is Donald Duck.

Donald Duck. Do your seeking.

Do you mind, Harry?

Marilyn Sidwell.

She went to pieces two years ago when her father died.

Hiram Sidwell.

Yeah, he died of a heart attack.

Said he died of money.

Marilyn was committed by her sister, Janet Rankin.

She's the trustee of the estate.

Any other evidence?

The sister's husband, he's chief executive officer of Sidwell Industries.

The name is Arthur Rankin, Harry.

You sure you wouldn't care for a drink, Mr. Orwell?

No, no thanks.

I appreciate your concern for Marilyn.

But what was it that you expected? A reward or something?

No, no reward. I...

I don't know what I expected.

Well, I think I understand.

Marilyn told you she was being held at that place against her will, didn't she?

She did mention it.

Poor Marilyn.

You know, she can be quite lucid at times.

She even had Dr. Meraki in full for a while.

Thank you.

Sorry to bother you.

No bother at all.

Pluto, come here, baby.

Pluto, come. Come, Pluto. Come on.

Come on, Pluto.

What was that doctor's name again?

Meraki. Dr. Sam Meraki.

Marilyn's always been a very disturbed young woman.

I was treating her for a year before her father died.

When that happened, her whole facade crumbled.

What about Pluto?

Pluto? Well, he's a family dog.

Marilyn's very attached to him.

She thinks he's dead.

Well, Marilyn thinks so many things.

Why can't she have visitors?

I checked with the sanitary.

Family won't allow visitors.

Why not?

It's their prerogative.

Isn't that unusual?

Overly protective, maybe, but not unusual.

Could you arrange for me to see her, talk to her?

Not unless you were an inmate.

Inmate?

Bad joke. Sorry.

No, wait a minute. Why not?

Why couldn't you get me committed for a day or two?

You're not serious.

Sure. It's no big deal.

Students do it. Writers do it.

You need a doctor's consent.

I'm asking for a doctor's consent.

Well, now, if you're serious.

It took a little persuading on my part and a lot of doing on Dr. Meraki's part.

But he didn't believe in broken promises, either.

Ten days later, I was committed to the Los Robles

Sanitarium under the name of Howard Rogers.

According to Dr. Meraki and only the hospital administrator and the head nurse

were supposed to know the difference between Harry Orwell and Howard Rogers.

Poor Howard.

According to his record, he was a very sick man.

Gin.

Three across.

Twenty points for gin.

Ten for undercut.

And spades are doubled. You got that?

Not for five, okay?

You know a Marilyn Sidwell?

I know a girl named Marilyn, yeah.

Blonde?

Medium height?

That's too bad about Marilyn.

What happened?

She tried to escape and they put her in a disturbed ward.

Why are you getting a disturbed ward?

Well, it's very simple. Because of disturbance.

Gin.

I cheat.

Twenty-seven.

Twenty-seven.

I said thirty-four.

You cheat.

See, it's three across.

Twenty points for gin.

Ten for undercut.

And spades are doubled.

Hi.

Howard Rogers?

Yes, Mr. Rogers.

Actually, it's Harry Orwell.

I'm in the wrong ward.

Well, what makes you think that, Mr. Rogers?

Orwell.

Harry Orwell.

Yes, of course.

Mr. Orwell.

Didn't Dr. Merakin speak to you about him?

Dr. Merakin?

Dr. Sam Merakin.

It's in the file there.

Let me use the phone.

Oh, no, I'll quit.

I just wanted to talk to the administrator.

Well, he's gone home for the day.

I'm not making it up.

Really, I'm not.

I don't belong here.

Not in this ward.

Humor me.

Call Dr. Sam Merakin.

It's right there.

It's in the file.

I'm sure today's great.

You know, come on.

Humor me.

What's up?

What's up?

Yes.

I'm familiar with Harry Orwell.

He was committed under the name of Howard Rogers.

That duality should speak for itself.

He's, uh, he's apt to be violent.

Oh, not at all.

If you were ever drafted, you might begin to understand how it felt.

A little bit unreal, like walking underwater.

And like the Army, once you were in, it was almost impossible to get out.

The louder you protested you didn't belong there, the more it seemed you did.

I was maintaining your own sense of balance.

You were sane and they weren't.

Or was it the other way around?

That's why it's not easy to tell the difference.

There was really only one way to be sure.

If you had a key in your pocket and could go home at night, you were sane.

Do you have a key?

A key? Why?

Then why are you smiling?

I know your secret.

What's that?

You're sane.

I wouldn't count on it.

Your cast is made out, Edward.

You can change into your own clothes and pick it up in my office when you're ready.

Thank you, Eleanor.

How are you this morning, Mr. Rogers?

How are you, Eleanor?

Yes, of course, Mr. Orwell.

What's this about, Dennis?

Oh, you see, I'm self-committed. I can come and go whenever I want to.

Could you take a message for me?

Sure.

Call Lieutenant Quinlan at the San Diego Police Department.

Lieutenant Quinlan.

Tell him Harry Orwell. Tell him where I am.

Harry Orwell.

Tell him I'm here under the name of Howard Rogers.

Howard Rogers.

Tell him to look up a Dr. Sam Merakian.

Sam Merakian.

Arthur Rankin.

Arthur Rankin.

Orwell, Rogers, Merakian, Rankin.

Orwell, Rogers...

I'll write it down for you.

Oh, no, no. I've got a very keen memory.

Orwell, Rogers, Merakian, and Rankin.

Orwell, Rogers, Merakian, and Rankin. I got it.

Call Quinlan.

Lieutenant Quinlan.

Call Lieutenant Quinlan.

Right.

How'd you know I was sane?

We're the only two.

Orwell and...

I can't remember it, lady. I forgot it.

And I told him I had a keen brain tumor.

I can look in the phone book.

Orwell, Rogers...

Merakian. I found it.

What happened?

Well, he was obviously killed someplace else, lieutenant.

His body washed up there, and one of the fishermen snagged him on his line.

Well, how was he killed?

By something long and sharp. Knife, ice pick, scissors.

He had this in his pocket.

Veteran's administrative.

Frank?

Kick the name on it.

Yeah, I mean, I hope that fisherman had a license.

Cut it, Frank.

Same place Marlon Sidwell's locked up.

Who's that?

A friend of Harry Orwell's.

What's the connection?

None, Frank.

When I was in the army, I never thought the day

would come when I'd volunteer to scrub floors.

There's something very reassuring about a floor.

It's real.

So is the mop.

They're cleaning your floor, Harry.

Hold on to that.

I didn't mind their talking about me.

But if they were laughing at me, that was something else.

I don't like being laughed at.

Particularly when I don't understand the joke.

Now watch it, Harry.

Remember the floor.

Manny?

Manny!

Manny!

Manny!

Manny!

Manny!

I'll introduce you to Mrs. Barron.

If Lamport had any close friends on the board, she'll know who they were.

Edward was a shy man.

He played cards a lot, but he didn't talk much.

He had no particular friends, certainly no close ones.

Wait a minute.

There was one man.

He only arrived here the day before yesterday, but I do

remember Edward was talking to him just before he left on pass.

What's his name?

Rogers. Howard Rogers.

Could we see him?

Oh, I'm afraid not. At least not for a while, anyway.

Is he on the pastor?

No, no. He's been transferred to the disturbed ward.

How about this?

In the corner of his jacket pocket.

All wadded up into a tiny little ball.

Piece of the San Diego telephone book.

All in the ends.

Anything marked or underlined?

Nope.

Better check them all.

Must be 30 names here or more.

I didn't ask you to count them, Frank.

Thanks, Manny.

They also serve who sweat and strain, right?

Yeah.

Anything else?

Lint, chewing gum, bits of tobacco.

And this.

I've heard of guys biting their fingernails, but saving them?

Guy must be some kind of a weirdo.

Some kind.

Thanks.

I killed him with a scalpel.

Old habits die hard.

Why don't you get yourself a drink? It'll steady your hand.

I was a good doctor.

You were a butcher.

There's no end to it.

First the old man.

You signed his death certificate.

Then Marilyn.

Then Orwell.

Harry Orwell was your idea.

He was the one who suggested it.

Well, that alone should have made you think twice.

He was a genius.

You were determined to see her.

What else could I have done?

Nothing.

Or what you did to Lampert.

Halfway measures leave too much to chance.

You found that out with Marilyn.

What are we going to do now?

Hello.

What are you doing here?

Believe it or not, I came to see you.

You came to spy on me.

How's your foot?

You were right about the spines.

They work their way out.

Good old Dr. Orwell.

Who sent you here?

Sam Morakian.

He's an evil man.

His battery has a very warped sense of humor.

That's funny.

I'm just as sane as you are.

I...

I checked up on you.

I went to see your sister and your brother-in-law.

They...

told me about Dr. Sam Morakian.

So I went to see him.

He arranged for me to be committed to you for a day or two

so I could talk to you.

Only he neglected to tell anyone about it.

So I'm here and I can't get out

until nobody believes I'm not Howard Rodgers.

Now you know how it feels.

What did you say your name was?

I'm Howard Rodgers.

That's strange.

You remind me of a man I met on the beach.

Only his name was Harry Orwell.

You don't believe me either.

My sister...

and brother-in-law...

killed my father.

They poisoned him and said it was a heart attack.

That's what Dr. Morakian put on the death certificate.

But they were all in it together.

Dr. Morakian arranged to have me committed here

so that Arthur could take over my father's estate.

And now...

I can't get out.

Do you believe me?

What about Pluto?

The poison was in my father's medicine.

But...

when he died...

it spilled.

And Pluto lapped it up.

Ten minutes later...

he was dead too.

I saw Pluto...

ten, twelve days ago.

I guess they could have...

gotten another dog...

same...

size, marking, sex...

and called it Pluto.

But no other difference.

Except maybe you.

And if you mention it, does it make you seem more...

Unstable.

Unstable.

It's very tiny.

They thought of everything.

I can't get out of here.

I'm gonna get out of here, but not right now.

Wind.

Sand and stars.

The sea.

Sunshine and shadows.

Rain.

Your own bed at night.

That outing...

was the first chance I'd had...

in two years.

It was the only chance.

Maybe the last chance.

If...

you make too much trouble here...

and create...

too many disturbances...

they do things to you.

What things?

You just rest.

Go to sleep.

I'll take care of you.

It's the least I can do.

Harry.

I'm glad you're here.

How sweet of you to come for me.

Quinlan here.

Yeah, Frank.

Nothing.

Zero.

None of them ever heard of Lampert.

Did any of them have any connection with the sanitarium?

Well, one guy, yeah.

A psychiatrist.

He's been there, but he doesn't know any Edward Lampert.

What's his name?

Merakian.

Dr. Sam Merakian.

Merakian.

Yeah.

What do you want me to do now?

What do you know about fingernails?

Skip it, Frank. Skip it.

Right.

Let's go.

Must be a couple of days of mail out there in the box.

Well, he's not sleeping.

Well, he's not doing too much eating either,

from the looks of the kitchen.

I think I'll leave him a note.

Hey, somebody, I'm dying.

There's my stomach.

I'm dying in here, somebody.

Hey, somebody, come in here.

It's my stomach.

What's the matter, fella?

Let me see if I can help you.

Now, I've got the key and you haven't.

So, which one of us is sane, huh?

Who are you?

I don't know.

I don't understand.

I'll come back for you.

I'll scream.

All right.

Now, be my best friend and be quiet.

Dr. Merakian?

Yeah, Frank.

I was reading some statistics the other day.

The highest suicide rate in the country is among doctors.

I bet you never guessed what kind of doctors have the highest rate.

Gynecologists, Frank.

No.

Psychiatrists.

The mind reels.

It is not locked.

It's all here, Mrs. Rankin.

You want me to read it?

I want you to leave me alone.

Hiram Sidwell was poisoned by Arthur and Janet Rankin.

I supplied the poison.

And falsely reported the cause of death as myocardial infarction.

Dr. Merakian typed this just before he died.

What does it prove?

We can have your father's body exhumed, Mrs. Rankin.

If he didn't die of natural causes, we'll find out about it.

We can trace that poison from Dr. Merakian right back to you.

He wasn't a doctor.

Not really.

Not anymore.

His name was Howard Rogers.

He lost his license to practice medicine in Massachusetts.

The real Dr. Merakian is dead.

Howard assumed his credentials and his identity.

He moved to the West Coast.

Began practicing in San Diego.

My husband found out about it and used him.

What did Edward Lamport have to do with this?

I don't know.

The house is empty, Lieutenant. There's no one else here.

All right. Mrs. Rankin, is this your husband?

Where is he?

I don't know.

He had a call from the sanitarium.

It was something about Marilyn.

He was in a hurry.

Take her downtown.

I want an APB on Arthur Rankin right away.

Let's go, ma'am.

He's a nice dog. What's his name?

Pluto.

Pluto?

Frank.

Stay.

Pluto is a big, funny-looking dog.

Harry Orwell is a big, funny-looking private detective.

I don't know what else they have in common, but I'm

pretty sure we'll find the answer at that sanitarium.

Yes, you can. Come on.

Don't shoot that thing. I give up.

My name is Harry Orwell. I'm a private detective.

That's Marilyn Sidwell.

I want you to call Lieutenant Manny Quintin of the San Diego Police Department.

Good job, officers.

That's Howard Rogers.

I'm not Howard Rogers. I'm Harry Orwell. I'm a private detective.

I'm Dr. Merakian. These are my patients.

He's not a doctor. His name is Arthur Rankin.

I'd like to get them back to the sanitarium as soon as I can.

Would you call Lieutenant Quintin at the San Diego...

No, no, no. We're not dangerous.

Wait a minute. Call Lieutenant Manny Quintin.

Call Quintin at the San Diego Police Department.

No, I'm not kidding. Now call him.

I'm going to take this guy into the station, doctor.

That's Rankin. Get him, Frank.

Frank!

Come on, Marilyn.

Let's get out of here.

Everything's going to be all right.

Not quite, Harry.

What do you mean?

You're under arrest.

What for?

Assaulting a police officer in the performance of his duty.

Ah, it was a beautiful day, Harry. Thank you.

Well, you're a beautiful person.

I know. My dentist told me so.

I stepped on a sea urchin.

They have these little spines.

They're poisonous, you know?

Some people have a violent reaction to them.

But they have to work their way out.

Ludo brought home a porcupine once.

They have spines, too.

Must have been very painful for him.

They have to work their way out.

Time off for good behavior.

And then sometimes...

they don't ever work their way out.

The review board had confirmed the diagnosis, paranoid schizophrenia.

People get better, they get worse.

There are remissions, but there's still no real cure.

I felt like screaming, but I didn't.

You can get into a lot of trouble screaming.

I decided to run instead.

It didn't do much good.

I did another thing that didn't do much good, either.

I locked the door to my house.

Not that I was worried about anyone trespassing.

I just liked the feeling of having a key in my pocket.

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