04x08 - Safety for the Witness

[bunniefuu]

Well, as Mother used to say, "It's
better to be safe than sorry. "

Actually, what you've just seen
is not to be taken seriously.

It was all make-believe.
All play-acting.

Of course, the g*n is
genuine and was loaded.

But the doctor isn't a
real doctor, he's an actor.

I think it's interesting
that the duel

is no longer
considered good form,

while cold-blooded m*rder
is more popular than ever.

There seems to be no way to
stay the march of civilization.

Tonight's story
is about m*rder,

and we call it,
"Safety for the Witness. "

Our next minute is devoted to a
television commercial, and I call that...

I beg your pardon,
Mrs. Crawpit.

This is a magnificent r*fle,
Mr. Jones. What caliber?

. Magnum.

It comes complete
with telescopic sight.

It's hardly sporting for
anything smaller than rhino.

You might say, it was designed
for those who want to be sure.

Well, my husband has
a little astigmatism.

As a matter of fact,
on our last safari,

he was trampled by zebras.
Oh?

Yes. It was during
the cocktail hour,

and he mistook
a small herd of them

for the striped awning that we
just bought from Abercrombie's.

Well, in future, we must watch
what goes into his canteen.

Naturally,
Mrs. Crawpit.

Be with you in a
moment, Lieutenant.

I think this r*fle will
do very nicely, Mr. Jones.

You might ship it to me, care
of my daughter in California.

We shall go north from there to the
Aleutians. You know her address, don't you?

Oh, certainly,
Mrs. Crawpit.

Thank you.

Thank you again,
Mrs. Crawpit.

Thank you.

You run a nice shop, Jonesy.
That's a classy old doll.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

And you also do business with
some of the town's prize hoodlums.

Well, I suppose that's true enough.
It takes all kinds, you know.

Hmm.

When's the last time you
sold a g*n to Dan Foley?

Mr. Foley?
Let me see.

On January rd of this year, I sold
a pocket model Colt to Mr. Foley.

He had a permit, of course.
The registration number is...

I can see the
registration number.

You also have it entered here that
you serviced the g*n on May th.

What was the matter with it?

Well, he had complained that the
action of the g*n was sluggish.

Was it?

As a matter of fact, it was.
It had rusted some.

He'd been on a picnic,

target sh**ting
with Mr. Felix.

Tarzan Joe Felix?

Why, yes.

That gorilla.

They've always been very
courteous to me, Lieutenant.

I didn't know Mr. Foley
was in trouble again.

I didn't say
he was in trouble.

We're just
playing it safe.

We picked up
a pal of Mr. Foley's

for a waterfront k*lling
two hours ago.

We want to protect
the witness.

A witness?
Oh, that's too bad.

I'm sorry to hear
a thing like that.

What do you mean, "It's too bad
and you're sorry to hear it"?

You can't get a conviction
without a witness, can you?

That's just the point.

You know, Lieutenant,
it seems to me that,

somehow or other,
the law should be changed.

What are you getting at?

Well, let me
put it this way.

Some of my best friends
have been witnesses.

I don't like your
attitude, Jonesy.

Well, I'm sorry,
Lieutenant.

Are you trying to say that we
don't protect our witnesses?

I'm not venturing
to guess, Lieutenant.

If you'll forgive me, I'm
just recalling the statistics.

Well, so long,
Jonesy.

Goodbye, Lieutenant.

Good evening, Mr. Foley.
Good evening, Mr. Felix.

I'm sorry, Jonesy. It's just
too bad it had to be you.

Jonesy?

Who did it, Jonesy?

Tell your pals, who
sh*t you full of holes?

Jonesy, it's been
three weeks now.

This is Commissioner
Cummings with me, Jonesy.

We got the D.A. And
the Mayor on our backs.

Do you hear me?

The door was open.
We just walked in.

That door wasn't open
and you know it.

There are two of your
brass-buttoned dandies

stationed outside just
to see that it isn't open.

Look, ma'am... Wait
a minute, Flannelly.

Flannelly, we don't
have to apologize.

We're here
investigating a m*rder.

We don't have to worry
about hospital protocol.

Who are you?

Young lady, I happen to be the
police commissioner of this city.

I see. Well then, you'll have a lot more
sense than you're showing, Commissioner.

This man is a victim,
not a criminal.

And when Dr. Thissbaum says that he
may be interviewed, we'll let you know,

because it's Dr. Thissbaum's
orders that we go by here.

Dr. Thissbaum said that after
three weeks we could talk with him.

It isn't three weeks yet,
it's days.

My suggestion to you is
that you try again tomorrow.

Young lady, I'd like to remind
you again that we have a job to do.

A man was k*lled
and we need a witness.

You had a witness.

That's what
the Commissioner means.

We need a witness to tell us
who k*lled the witness.

It's our first obligation
to protect...

I understand what
you're trying to say.

You want a new clay pigeon
to replace the old.

Now, Miss Copeland...

You may try again,
Commissioner.

The patient is resting now,

and come back with Dr. Thissbaum's
permission, if you please.

We're having turkey for lunch,
and I saved a big portion

especially for you,

because I know
you like it so.

Mr. Jones?

It was Big Dan Foley
and someone by the name

of Mr. Felix who sh*t you,
wasn't it?

I heard you talking
in your sleep this morning.

You were saying,
"Good evening, Mr. Foley,"

and, "Good evening,
Mr. Felix. "

But it wasn't
your natural voice.

I can tell you, Mr. Jones, it doesn't
pay to be polite to people like that.

Not even in your dreams.
They're K*llers, Mr. Jones.

I know.

I haven't told anybody,
not even Dr. Thissbaum,

although I know
he could be depended upon

to cooperate in
every possible way.

It's my fault.

For talking in my sleep.

I didn't know anyone knew.

But if the police can't
protect their own witnesses,

what are you going to do?

You're an intelligent man,
Mr. Jones, so answer me.

What in the world
are you going to do?

I hope you enjoyed your
stay with us, Mr. Jones.

You were all very kind.

It's so unusual for a patient to
leave in the middle of the night.

A lot come in that way.

It's not against
regulations, is it?

Oh, no.

Dr. Thissbaum even left word
that we're not to charge you

for the extra half day.

He understands
the situation so well.

As all of us do,
Mr. Jones.

Thank you.

Take care of yourself,
Mr. Jones.

That's a nice man.
A nice little man.

I'll bet you eight to five,
he doesn't live till Tuesday.

Jonesy?

Jonesy?

Jonesy?

Yes, sir?

I'd like a front room
with a view, please.

Something on the sixth
or seventh floor.

You're not the type that jumps
or anything, are you, Mac?

Oh, no, no, no, sir.
I've been here before.

Several times when I've
worked late at the store.

I find it's much more
pleasant with a view.

That'll be $ . . I'll
put you in room .

I'm sure that'll be fine.

Thank you.

Hey, what do you think is the
matter with Lynch's coffee?

I don't know.

Different theories
about this, Joe.

Some wise guy said he thins
it out with needle beer.

Personally, I think he dropped his
sleeve garters in the coffee urn.

Yes, sir. What
can I do for you?

I want to report
two murders.

You what?

I want to report
two murders.

Whose murders?

Big Dan Foley's
and Tarzan Joe Felix's.

You mean you saw
them m*rder*d?

From a distance, yes.

I committed
both murders myself.

Oh, I see. Well, that's a
very interesting thing to hear.

You k*lled Big Dan Foley
and Tar Felix, huh?

For a minute, buster,
you had me going.

There's too many dingbats like you running
around loose in this town. Get out of here.

I k*lled them both
with a high-powered r*fle

from the sixth floor
of the Hotel Mark Jerome.

Buster, if you keep
talking like that,

you're gonna get yourself
in a whole lot of trouble.

Now, what's your name?

Cyril T. Jones.

I'm a custom gunsmith,
at ...

Hey, wait a minute! You're the
fellow that was sh*t a few weeks back.

And you wouldn't talk for the
Lieutenant or the Commissioner.

You wouldn't open
your little, bitsy lips.

Yes, Sergeant, that's
right. I'm the one.

Hey, Feeney, come in here! We got a
new kind of a nut, fresh off the tree.

Come in here and get a
grip on him, will you?

Give me the Lieutenant. Yeah, that's
right. What did you say your name was?

Cyril T. Jones.

Cyril P. Jones.

T.

T.

And what's this
supposed to be?

It's a receipt for the. Magnum
r*fle I mailed to California.

Oh, boy. This is going
to do me a lot of good.

So far the lab hasn't even
been able to determine

what kind of a g*n
k*lled Felix and Foley.

All they've been able to come up
with is a few scraps of soft lead.

I know, sir.

May I have a drink of
water? Help yourself.

As I told you, Commissioner,
I filed down the b*ll*ts

in such a way that they were
bound to disintegrate on impact.

I never heard of such
a thing in all my life.

It's true, sir.

Naturally,
in my line of work,

I'm better equipped than the
layman to carry out such a plan.

Oh, you are a crackerjack,
Mr. Jones.

I'm sorry, Lieutenant.

Flannelly must have gone out
to that hospital , times.

You never peeped a word.

I know that. But I should
have. I can see that now.

I probably would never have
had a chance to do this thing

if I had confided
in you or the Lieutenant.

Why?

Because they would
have k*lled me.

Who would have k*lled you?

Mr. Foley and Mr. Felix.

They knew I had seen them k*ll
Mr. Grimes, so I had no choice

except to k*ll them first.

We offered you police
protection, didn't we?

Didn't we?

Yes, sir. You did.

Now, I'll have no more smart
remarks out of you, Mr. Jones.

May I have another
drink of water?

Help yourself.

And let me tell you this,
here and now,

this case you're trying to build
up against yourself was pretty thin.

A little mouse of a man comes
in here and tries to tell us

that he k*lled the two worst
hoodlums in town with an elephant g*n.

Fine. Only the elephant g*n is somewhere
in the mail between here and California.

Well, you're not talking
to an elephant now, Mr. Jones.

You're gonna have to do a lot
better than that to convince me.

But, Commissioner, I'm
confessing to these murders.

It's a simple
matter of conscience.

Conscience went
out of fashion.

Commissioner... And don't give me
any of that talk about confession.

We get guys in here
at least once a week,

who'll swear that
they sh*t McKinley.

How long have you
known this guy?

Oh, a long time,
Commissioner.

Ten or years, anyhow.

That's why I'm worried.

What are you
worried about?

Well, as far as
anyone knows,

Jonesy's never told
a lie in his life.

He'll even give you six
nickels change for a quarter

if you don't watch out.

Are you trying to tell me that
maybe he's telling the truth?

I'm afraid so,
Commissioner.

Either that or he thinks
he's telling the truth.

You know, a guy with as many
b*llet holes in him as Jonesy,

could be getting
too much oxygen.

It makes you flighty,
some people say.

But, Lieutenant, as I said before,
it's a matter of conscience.

I'm entitled to
be put under arrest.

Jonesy, listen, the way
things are going now,

you'll only embarrass
the department.

Give us one bit of proof
that you sh*t those two guys

and I guarantee you we'll throw you
in the can. Did anybody see you do it?

No one.

As I told you, Lieutenant,
I was diabolically shrewd.

Diabolically shrewd.

You see what I mean? The
guy won't ever be right.

All right. Book him. Lock
him up for safekeeping.

For m*rder, Chief?

No, no. Vagrancy.
Anything that's handy.

First, I got to talk
with the District Attorney.

If you did knock off
those two gorillas, Jonesy,

why couldn't you have kept
your big mouth shut? Come on.

A confession is the last thing
in the world I want from Jones.

Don't you realize what he'd be
confessing to? Well, don't you?

Yes. Sure, sure. He'll be
confessing to a couple of murders.

m*rder, you say? Listen,
m*rder is simple enough.

This little bunny is about
to inform the whole world

that it isn't safe for any witness
to walk the streets of this city.

Now, that's what
he's confessing to,

and he's got a chest
full of holes to prove it.

Now, Tom, that isn't fair to the
police department, and you know it.

No? Well, then let me ask you how long
you were able to keep Henry Grimes alive?

Or the six other witnesses
who were m*rder*d this year.

Now, if I take this to the
grand jury, what have I got?

To save his own hide,
a nice little man

eliminates the same
g*n-happy gorillas

that your department was
never able to clamp in jail.

Now, that's what I've got.

Am I supposed to convince an intelligent
panel that this man is really a m*rder*r?

He's two thirds
of a hero right now.

Come on, Jonesy.
It's time we got underway.

Is it time for my
arraignment, Lieutenant?

I'll arraignment you.

I ought to shake the custard
out of your skull.

Is something wrong?

Yes, there's
something wrong.

You don't belong here.

You're wasting my time,
so get out.

Oh! Do you mean, you're
moving me to another cell?

I mean that I'm moving you
to the great outdoors,

and it's too bad it's not the South
Pole. You're a free man, Jonesy.

How can I be a free man?
I'm a m*rder*r!

You'd better change your
brand of snuff, Jonesy.

Now, will you get going?

Lieutenant, I confessed
to this crime.

I know my rights, and I won't be
treated like any ordinary citizen.

Look, you will be treated any
way that we want to treat you.

Those are the Commissioner's orders.
We don't want any arguments. Get going.

Get out!

Get out!

Thus it is that Mr. Jones learns
the sad truth about m*rder.

Committing it
is not difficult.

It's being convicted
that's the trick.

Fortunately, the next city administration
was a thoroughly dishonest one,

and it granted him
his request.

And now, I shall be back in
a minute, after this brief

you know what
from you know whom.

My worthy opponent has
taken what I consider

an unfair advantage
of my poor sh**ting

and insisted that we
go through this again.

Afterwards, I shall be back
next week with another story.

Ready?

Good night.