08x04 - The Case of the Sleepy Slayer

[bunniefuu]

(theme song playing)

(wind gusts)

♪♪

(thunder cracks)

Mr. Gordon...

Well, don't stand there
mumbling. Speak up.

What do you want?

It's time for your medication.

I don't want it.

I'm sorry, Mr. Gordon,

but Doctor Lambert
insists you must have it.

Addlepated jackass!

My orders are to give you
this medication.

No.

Please, Mr. Gordon.

No, no,

-no, no, no!
-(glass shatters)

Mr. Gordon!

Didn't you hear me?
I said...

Mr. Gordon.

The third time it's happened.

Tonight I thought
he was really going.

He's too full of hate.
Even death despises him.

You'd, uh...

better increase the heparin

I ordered to one c.c.
every night.

Yes, Doctor Lambert.

I'll look in on Rachel
before I leave.

Now you call me
if you need me.

Good night, Doctor.

Good night, Miss Clover.

It's all right, Sadie.

- He's gonna be all right.
- Oh.

Where's Miss Gordon?

She's in her room.

Doctor Lambert...

could you help her, please.

She's, she's so nervous
and upset. I...

just can't stand to see
what's happening to her.

You're playing hopscotch

with one foot over
the precipice, Rachel.

Ease off before
you yourself have a stroke.

How's Uncle Abner?

He'll live.

Wouldn't you know.

You were hoping I'd say
this was the end?

That upsets you, doesn't it?

Makes you sick.

Tell me, Doctor,

how old do you think I look?

You want me to say
or , I suppose.

In a month I'll be .

years of my life.

Like someone in jail.

Looking after him,
waiting for him to die.

There's never been a lock
on the front door.

Oh, sure. Walk out.

Let him cut me off,
his own flesh and blood.

His only flesh and blood.

But staying here, you've
become nothing but raw nerves

and twisted emotions.

How much is it worth to be
a sick, empty creature

drained of every drop
of the joy of life. How much?

One million dollars, Doctor.
My legacy.

Abner had a mild stroke,
the third one this month.

He could live on like this
for years, Rachel, for years.

No,
not for years.

I won't let him.

I'll k*ll him first.

(thunder cracks)

(shutters bang)

(wind gusts)

♪♪

Who is it?

What's going on?

It's just me, Bruce.
Never mind

Rachel? You all right?

Yes. I just dropped something,
that's all.

It's all right, Bruce.

SERGEANT:
Well, there's no question of it.

Footprints in the flower bed.

Marks around the lock.

Well, somebody tried
to break in here all right.

Whoever it was, uh,

do you think he'll try again?

Sort of depends
on how badly he wants

what he thinks he didn't get.

Now, this is the, uh,

Abner Gordon home...

and you're Charles Norman,
the butler, right?

Butler, gardener, chauffeur.

And my wife, Sadie,
is the housekeeper.

Who else lives in?

Well, aside from Mr. Gordon,

there's his niece,
Miss Rachel Gordon,

and a Mr. Bruce Jay...

a kind of a secretary,

and Mr. Gordon's nurse,
Miss Phyllis Clover.

Hmm. I see.

Do you have a g*n?

A g*n?

Good heavens, no.

Who runs the place?
This Miss Gordon?

If she's in, I'd like to have
a talk with her.

Certainly. Go right ahead.

I cannot go on feeling sorry
for you, and shut my eyes

to what you're doing.

I am not blind.

I am not stupid,

and this account book
speaks for itself.

Harlan, please understand,
I need your help.

You can shake that thought
right out of your mind, Rachel.

As your uncle's accountant, I
will not be put in the middle.

Absolutely not.

(knocking)

Excuse me, Miss Gordon.

About the marks on the side door
this morning,

the police officer
would like to speak to you.

RACHEL: Some other time.
Tell him I'll call him.

He's right here, waiting to...

I said not now. Get out.

Certainly, ma'am.

(door closes)

RACHEL: Harlan, you've known me
such a long time.

It isn't as if I'd actually
stolen the money.

Oh, isn't it?

Or perhaps your dictionary
has a different moral evaluation

for embezzlement.

Mine tends to define it
in the same terms

as the California Code.

The penal code.

I, uh,

I'm sorry, Rachel.

What for?

For snooping on me? For calling
Abner's accountant

and telling him
I was stealing from my uncle?

I...He found the discrepancy
himself.

Look, if it's
the last thing I do,

I'm going to have you thrown out
of this house for good.

Please, Rachel.

Phyllis, did Mr. Farrell leave
by the front door

or the side door?

I just passed him going up
the stairs.

He said he had to
see Mr. Gordon.

No, no, I'm all right.

I thought you were having
trouble breathing again.

No, no, it's just Rachel...

and this house.

You really think,
if you stay on,

it'll make things easier
for her? For Mr. Gordon?

Let's put it another way...

if I go, will it make things
harder for them?

PHYLLIS: I don't think anybody,
or anything, will help Rachel.

But it's different for you now,
darling. You're well again.

You've got
your life ahead of you.

Our life.

Today is Thursday.

By Monday, by :
in the afternoon of Monday,

you will make full restitution
of every last dollar

you've drained out of my funds
for that no good parasite

you're supporting.

No!

Didn't think I knew

about your
little boyfriend, did you?

Please, Uncle Abner...

By : Monday.

Do I have to tell you
what the alternative is?

Sounds like
an unhappy household.

But tell me, Mr. Jay,

how are you affected by actions
Abner Gordon

may take against his niece?

Well, it's a matter
of some money.

You see, I put myself
through college

working in a chemical plant
Abner Gordon owned.

There was an accident,

some defective old equipment
in the factory.

I ended up, more dead than
alive, in the hospital.

My, uh, my lungs.

You filed a law suit?

No. There was some sort
of mix up with his insurance.

Abner Gordon would have been
personally liable.

And you agreed not to sue him?

BRUCE:
Well, sort of.

I mean, he was very kind.

He paid my bills.

He brought me to his home, as
sort of a librarian/secretary,

to recuperate.

And I've been there ever since,
working for him.

You received no compensation
at all for your injuries?

He promised me that any time
I decided to leave

to go out on my own,

he'd give me $ , .

And now,
you've decided to leave?

Well, uh...

there's a, there's a girl,

and a business, a bookstore
I'm interested in.

But Mr. Mason,

I haven't spoken
to Mr. Gordon yet,

and the way things are, maybe I
shouldn't right now but...

Oh, yes, I think you should,
and soon.

In fact, you have
a right to the money.

I just don't want to cause any
trouble at a time like this.

Well, I'll be able to handle it
for you, without trouble.

Unless, of course, Mr. Gordon
has changed his mind.

As you describe it, that money
is essentially a gift.

And an offer of a gift,
lacking legal consideration,

is revocable
at a moment's notice.

Oh, I don't think he'd back down
on his promise.

Is there something in writing
about this?

Well, I know the $ ,
is provided for in his will.

MASON:
Good.

That may be all we need
to assure payment.

Thank you, Mr. Mason.
I guess I've...

well, I've been a little worried
about his changing his will.

Is there an indication
that he plans to do so?

Well, he's always threatened
his niece, Rachel,

that if she ever left him,
or got married,

he'd cut her off.

He had another will
drawn years ago.

He's always waved it
in her face as a warning.

Threatens to substitute it
for the actual legal will.

Under these circumstances,
the validity of the second will

may be seriously questioned.

Does it disinherit his niece?

It disinherits everybody.

It leaves every cent he has
to charity.

Ah, Rachel, baby.

Did you bring the money?

You did bring the money?

Yes, Tracey...

Ah, don't worry, honey.

Just add it
to the rest I owe you.

And it won't be long now.

He can't hang on forever.

And then, well, maybe...

Tracey, I shouldn't give you
any more money.

I mean, the money
I've already given you,

I've got to have it back,
every cent of it.

You what?

But you know I haven't got it.

Tracey, I can't
give you any more.

I stole that money for you.

He's going to send me to jail.

Unless I return every cent
by Monday afternoon,

he's going to use the new will.

Tracey, what can I do?

Tell me, what?!

Tracey!

Start praying.

What?

Pray your uncle dies
before Monday afternoon.

No.

They can't prosecute you

for stealing from yourself,
can they?

Tracey.

Lock up when you leave.

Shall we stop at police
headquarters or will you call?

What?

The attempted housebreaking.

The police officer was insistent
that he speak to you.

Uh, no. You take the car home.

I have some errands to do.

But it's no trouble.

I said, drive the car home.

I'll take a cab.

Oh, Miss Rachel,
you're not well.

And I don't mind driving
anywhere you want to go.

I'm certain
you'll like this p*stol.

It's a truly fine handgun.

And I think you'll see for
yourself the amazing advances

in recent years,
particularly in relation

to velocity and kinetic energy.

Well, now, let's see.

We have a name, address,
phone number,

height, weight,
complete description

and the serial number
of the g*n.

Yes, it's all complete,
except for your signature.

You realize, of course, Miss
Gordon, that the police provide

for a three-day delay
before we're permitted

to deliver any g*n
to a customer.

It's just a formality.

A matter of record
for the police,

really out of our control,
you know.

I'm sorry, I've changed my mind.

Ma'am, I'll need
your name and address.

Just for the record.

Is it really necessary
that there be a record?

(thunder rumbling)

(thunder continues rumbling)

♪♪

♪♪

(g*nf*re)

(thunder rumbling)

Sadie?

That coffee ready yet?

No, not yet.

Be careful,
that handle is loose.

I know the handle's loose.

It's been loose for days,

and you've been promising
to fix it for days.

Uh, the coffee's not ready yet,
Miss Rachel.

Miss Gordon,
you asked us to see you here.

I realize that you're
very upset, and I'm sorry,

but you've kept us waiting
for over half an hour now,

and it's time for me to give
your uncle his medication.

And we mustn't disappoint
the great god Abner, must we?

By all means,
let nothing interfere

with his creature comforts.

Let him take us all for granted.

Yes, walk all over us,
but smile and say,

"Thank you, dear, dear Abner,
thank you."

Miss Rachel...

For once, he's got to realize
that we count, too,

that we're people.

Rachel, you're not feeling well.

Tomorrow, I want you all
to leave this house at noon.

What?

And stay away
until Sunday at noon.

But that's impossible.

Now, listen to me.

I'll give him his medication.

I'll see that he's fed,
taken care of,

given whatever he has to have.

But nothing more.

He's got to find out
that he can't cr*ck the whip

just for the fun
of watching us dance.

Rachel, that's absolutely
the most...

I'm not asking
for opinions or comments,

I'm giving an order!

Tomorrow, Saturday at noon

until Sunday noon, I want to be
left alone with him.

And don't you dare tell him
anything about this.

Now, please leave me alone.

(loud crash)

(gasps)

(sobbing screams)

How is she?

Well, that poor woman
is about as close

to a complete breakdown
as I've ever seen.

Mr. Gordon ready for bed?

Yes.

And, uh, I didn't tell him
about the accident.

I figured there was
no sense in upsetting him.

Don't. Just give him the heparin
and get him to sleep.

Get some sleep yourself.

Oh, is there anything more
I can do for Rachel?

Well, I sedated her
pretty heavily.

No choice.

Between hysteria, shock
and her begging for relief.

No, no, she'll be all right.

She'll probably
sleep the clock around.

♪♪

(footsteps)

♪♪

(three g*nshots)

(screams)

(door opens)

Mr. Mason.

I hope you didn't
have to wait too long, sir.

I took Phyllis--
Miss Clover the nurse--

back to her own apartment.

The police had finished
questioning her.

You've been reading law, Bruce?

What? Oh, no, no.

Those belong to Mr. Gordon.

He was a graduate attorney,
but he never practiced.

He took over
his father's business

after he passed the bar.

Mr. Gordon handles...

That is, he used to handle
his own legal affairs.

He never retained an attorney.

I just didn't know
who else to call but you.

Actually, I was hoping,

possibly, you might represent
Miss Rachel Gordon.

Did she ask you to call me?

No.

They haven't let
any of us talk to her.

I...I suppose
she's under arrest.

That seems logical.

The policeman who told me
to wait here for you said

that she fired three times
at point-blank range

into Abner Gordon's
head and chest.

It's... it's like a...
like a bad dream.

Only, in a dream,
you keep reassuring yourself

that you're going to wake up.

Bruce, I'm sorry, but I can't
represent Miss Gordon.

She's a fine person, Mr. Mason.

Or was.

You've got to understand the
pressure she's lived under here.

I can't represent her because
I'm already representing you.

But this is m*rder;
it has nothing

to do with her uncle's will.

Yes, it does.

If convicted,
she's precluded by law

from inheriting under his will.

Oh.

Well, I didn't...
I didn't know that.

I represent you, and you are
involved with the decedent.

There would be
a conflict of interest.

I'm sorry.

Well, at least until she can
retain somebody else.

Would you speak to her?

Tell her what her rights are?

Where is she?

Upstairs in her room.

I think Dr. Lambert's with her.

She wanted us to leave
at noon on Saturday--

that's today-- and not come back
till Sunday at noon,

so that, so that she could be
alone with him.

You're sure, Mr. Norman, there's
never been a g*n in the house?

Well, I-I couldn't swear to it.

There's never been a g*n
in this house, never.

But, Lieutenant, isn't it
possible that when Miss Rachel

called that sergeant, he advised
her to go out and buy a g*n,

because of the burglar?

He never had a chance
to advise her about anything.

She never called.

Well, that'll be all for now.

I'll be speaking
to both of you later.

Excuse me.

Sergeant Brice told me
you were here, Perry.

Andy.

I suppose you'd like
to speak with your client.

Bruce Jay is my client, Andy.

He thought I might be
of some temporary assistance

to Miss Gordon until she retains
her own counsel.

She's under heavy sedation,
unconscious.

I don't think she'll be doing
any talking for a while.

Oh, Doctor.

I'm afraid
you can't go with her.

Well, that's nonsense;
she's ill.

She's been through
a terrible experience.

I know.

I saw Abner Gordon's body.

Lieutenant Anderson,
she will need medical attention

when she comes to.

She'll get it, in the prison
ward of County General Hospital.

Perry, I've just had word
from Mr. Burger.

It'll take an okay from
the district attorney's office

to see Rachel Gordon,
for anybody to see her,

including her attorney.

Excuse me.

How long do you go on tormenting
a decent human being?

Pushing her further and further
into a corner

with no hope of escape?

I knew she was on the verge,
but I just didn't think she...

Unless it was said as a part
of a privileged communication

between doctor and patient,

you'll have to repeat it
in court, you know.

Repeat what?

The admission
you nearly made just now.

Don't be upset.

You weren't the only one
in whose presence

Rachel threatened
to k*ll Abner Gordon.

I don't know what hell is like,
but it can't be much worse

than the life
that Abner restricted her to.

You're saying

the sh**ting
was no drug-inspired

irresistible impulse,
but calculated and premeditated?

You're not putting the words

of a possible courtroom defense
in my mind,

are you, with this, uh,
"irresistible impulse?"

No, Doctor.

I wouldn't do that even
if I were Ms. Gordon's attorney.

Oh.

I'm just curious.

Primarily about the effect
of the injection you gave her

for the burn last night.

Oh, it relieves pain
and anxiety.

How the anxiety, for example?

By removing
the inhibitory processes

in the frontal lobe
of the brain of the patient.

Oh, I thought so.

Rather like
turning off a red light?

If a patient were
under tremendous tension,

if she were fighting
a compulsion to do something,

the drug would remove
her natural reluctance?

Would actually encourage her

to do what she was possibly
only planning to do?

-(phone ringing)
- If, if, if!

Hello.

She was literally unconscious
when she pulled that trigger.

As far as I'm concerned,
there isn't one shred of proof

that she ever gave
a single thought

to actually k*lling Abner.

You can say that,

despite her repeated threats
against his life?

Either one of you men Mr. Mason?

Yes.

Phone call.
Somebody named Drake.

Excuse me, Doctor.

Yes, Paul?

Perry, that dame was sure out
to k*ll somebody.

And Andy's been working
real fast on this one.

They found a shopkeeper to whom
she paid bucks for the g*n,

and his promise not
to report her to the police.

Of course I didn't report her
to the police... then.

Why should I?

Rachel misappropriated
a few thousand dollars.

Well, what's that--
the crime of the century?

Hardly.

Oh, I know Abner threatened her

with the police
and with that other will,

but after all, he'd been waving
that other will

in her face for years.

Do you ever stop to think,
the last thing,

the very last thing in the world

Abner Gordon wanted was not
to have her around?

Do you ever think of it?

Look, Mr. Farrell,
all I really want to know is

what did Rachel Gordon do
with the $ , she stole?

Gambling? The horses?

Oh, come now, Mr. Drake.

Really? Rachel and race horses?

Well, I never knew the lady.

- HARLAN: Well, I did!
- Know her man, too?

Yes, and...

You're sure you just work
for an attorney?

You're not a lawyer yourself?

Honest Injun.

(Harlan clears his throat)

- What did you say his name was?
-I didn't.

Is there any reason why
you can't?

No, I... I guess it's all right.

Walcott. Tracey Walcott.

So, like you say, I'm...
I'm unconcerned.

So what?

Not even a sympathetic shrug?

After all, she stole five grand
for you.

A loan.
Strictly a business loan.

She'll get every cent back.

Before or after?

Before or after what?

They strap her
in the gas chamber for m*rder.

You know, she's still
at General Hospital.

And if you asked real nice,

they might let you in
to see her.

Sorry. Got a date.

So soon?

Can the new one afford you?

Look, shamus, if you're digging
to get my goat,

you're wasting your time.

No, as a matter of fact,
I have got a date

with a young lady who's, uh,
got quite a bit of money,

and she might promote me
in a business of my own.

Mm-hmm.

Say, k*lling old man Gordon--

was that Rachel's idea,
or yours?

You're a wise guy, aren't you?!

Well, you chew on this!

If you and that shyster
you work for think

you can drag me into this,
you got another thing coming.

I'll sing. Oh, how I'll sing

on the witness stand,
and it won't be a lie, either.

I'll swear
that for the last month,

that's all Rachel
could-could talk about,

think about, dream about--

exactly how she was going
to k*ll her uncle!

Now, do you get the picture?

Yeah, I get it.

Oh!

You clumsy...

Now what am I gonna do?

Tracey boy,
you smell real pretty.

You might just get yourself
a whole platoon of promoters.

Is this a true copy
of the will?

The original is locked in a
safety deposit box at the bank.

But Phyllis and I thought...

well... well, maybe
you could help us.

If that will is filed,

doesn't the probate court
a-appoint an administrator

or something
to take care of everything?

Well, you see, the trouble is,

that Harlan Farrell,
the accountant,

simply refuses
to become involved.

And Bruce doesn't know
what to do, Mr. Mason.

There are bills to be paid,
decisions to be made, and...

And a million and one things

that Bruce just doesn't have
the authority to do.

Bruce, who knows
the provisions of this will?

Who knows?

I suppose everybody knows.

By everybody, you mean
those who are named in the will?

Well, I don't...

The will provides for you to
receive $ , , for instance.

You obviously knew that.

Tell me, do Charles
and Sadie Norman know

they're to inherit $ , ?

Harlan Farrell,
that he's to get $ , ?

Dr. Lambert, also $ , ?

Well, I suppose so.

Mr. Gordon never made
a secret of his favors.

Quite the contrary.

He was always talking about
them, threatening with them.

The balance goes
to Rachel Gordon.

Do you know
what that balance might be?

Yes, I do.
One and a half million dollars.

(knocking, door opening)

I'm sorry to bust in like this,
but I thought you'd like to know

that Rachel Gordon was just
released from General Hospital.

MASON:
She was what?!

But Paul, why would...?

I don't know the story yet.

PHYLLIS:
Mr. Mason, that's impossible!

We were just there
less than an hour ago,

and they wouldn't even let us
talk to Rachel!

Wait a minute, honey.

You mean
she's been released on bail?

No, that's also impossible.

There's no bail
on a m*rder charge.

(intercom buzzing)

Is that my call, Gertie?

Hi, Joe.
What did you find out?

He didn't die from the b*ll*ts?

What?

Abner Gordon was stone cold dead

three hours before Rachel pumped
those sh*ts into him.

Dead? But how?!

ANDERSON:
m*rder*d, that's how.

Mr. Bruce Jay?

I have a warrant here
for your arrest

on a charge
of criminal homicide.

MAN: It was obvious
the victim was dead

at least three hours
prior to the sh**ting.

BURGER: How were you able
to determine that, Doctor?

MAN: Postmortem lividity,
temperature, rigor mortis.

And what was the actual cause
of Abner Gordon's death?

Coronary insufficiency,

as a result
of a criminal human agency.

Essentially the inability
of the heart

to sustain the pressure
of continued function.

Doctor, isn't coronary
insufficiency a term applicable

to death from natural causes,

as well as to death caused
by criminal action?

Yes.

Well, then, would you please
explain to this court

what the medical examiner's
office found

to make this particular
coronary insufficiency

a matter of criminal homicide?

Decedent was in his seventies
and suffered a prolonged state

of arteriosclerosis,
hardening of the arteries.

He had a history
of prior coronary difficulties,

a series of mild strokes
which incapacitated him.

At the time of his death,

as part of his daily
medical regimen,

he was being administered

one cubic centimeter
of heparin every night.

And what is heparin?

An anti-coagulant
to prevent clotting,

thus reducing the possibility
of additional strokes.

BURGER:
Thank you, Doctor.

Would you go on, please?

In addition
to a minute examination

of the victim's body,

we analyzed the bottle
of heparin

from which an injection
was given to the victim

less than two hours
before his death.

BURGER:
Was there anything unusual

about the bottle of heparin,
Doctor?

Well, heparin is colorless,
remains colorless.

The medication in the bottle

was unmistakably turning
brownish in color.

It was quite obvious
that something had either

been added to the heparin,
or that it had been replaced.

BURGER: And what did
your analysis of the contents

of that bottle reveal?

It contained half heparin,
and half adrenaline.

BURGER: And this mixture of
half heparin, half adrenaline

had been injected
into the decedent that night

in place of his usual injection
of heparin?

The postmortem indicated that,
yes.

Well, what would be the result

of the injection
of such a mixture?

Adrenaline is useful,
but a very powerful drug.

It's given
in extremely small dosages.

One half cubic centimeter,

which must have been
the amount injected,

would constitute
a fantastically massive dose,

even for a young,
healthy person.

BURGER:
And for the decedent,

considering his age
and his health?

It literally and actually caused
Abner Gordon's heart

to b*at itself to death.

Oh, Bruce, uh,
the defendant, told me

about a week
before Mr. Gordon's death

that he planned
to leave his, uh... his job.

He mentioned the payment
of money

which he claimed
Mr. Gordon had promised him--

$ , .

Did you speak with the decedent
about this particular $ , ?

Yes, and he became very excited.

He said something about, uh...
uh, about...

Go on, Mr. Farrell.

Well, about, uh...

about rats leaving
a sinking ship.

BURGER:
Really?

Did he indicate he would refuse

to give Mr. Jay the $ , ?

Well, no, not entirely.

He said Bruce would have to wait
until after he, uh,

Mr. Gordon, was dead,

-to collect the money.
- BURGER: In other words,

he said the defendant could only
collect that money

through inheritance?

Through the will

that we've already introduced
here in evidence?

That is correct.

Now, as to the second will

that we've also introduced
in evidence,

the will that Abner Gordon
threatened to substitute

if his niece failed to make
restitution of certain funds--

did that second will provide
$ , for Bruce Jay?

No, in that case, every cent
would have gone to charity.

BURGER:
I see. Now,

did the defendant
give you any reason

for his plan to leave
his position with Mr. Gordon?

Yes. To marry Phyllis Clover.

And did you intend

to continue your nursing career
after your marriage?

No, Bruce was going
to open a bookstore.

BURGER: Oh, yes, with money
he hoped to inherit.

With the money that Abner Gordon
owed him and promised

to pay.

Miss Clover, on the day
of Abner Gordon's death,

an order was phoned
into the pharmacist

for a renewal
of the heparin prescription.

Did you phone that order in
yourself, personally?

No. I asked someone else
to do it.

Not, by any chance,
the defendant Bruce Jay?

PHYLLIS:
Well, there were some things

he needed to order
from the pharmacist, too.

Now, Miss Clover, you heard
the pharmacist testify

that he personally refilled
that prescription,

and that the bottle,

when he wrapped it
with the rest of the order,

contained only heparin.

During that night,
you did use the new bottle

that had just arrived,
didn't you?

Yes.

And when you gave Abner Gordon
his injection

of what you believed
to be heparin,

what color was the medication
in the bottle?

It had no color.

It was just as colorless then

as it was
when you unwrapped the package

from the pharmacist,
is that right?

PHYLLIS:
Yes, it...

Well, I...

You did unwrap the package
yourself, didn't you?

Didn't you?!

No.

The package was open
when I got it.

Well, I took the package
from the druggist's man

when he delivered it
to the house.

And did you open it?

No, sir.

Did you give it to the nurse?

No, no, I didn't.

BURGER:
What did you do with it?

CHARLES: Well, uh,
Mr. Jay-- the defendant--

uh, was in the hall
and, uh, he took the package.

Did he give you any reason
why he wanted the package?

Uh, something about some item of
his own that he was expecting.

And what did Mr. Jay
then do with the package?

Well, he, uh, took it into
his room and closed the door.

Well, Mr. Jay called me
into his room

and he gave me the package--
the open package--

and he asked me to take it up
to Miss Clover.

She was waiting
for Mr. Gordon's medicine.

Dr. Lambert,
would you explain for us,

in layman's terms if possible,

your opinion of how a dose
of adrenaline would react

on a man
in Abner Gordon's condition?

It would be as if somebody had
taken a small transistor radio

that was designed to run on
a one-cell flashlight battery,

and hooked it up to a
million-volt power generator.

BURGER:
Very well put, Doctor.

Now, tell me, Abner Gordon
was not your only patient

in this household, was he?

No, I took care of just about
everybody in the house.

Including the defendant

- Bruce Jay?
- Yes.

Well, will you please describe
to the court

the defendant's
medical condition?

A chronic inflammation
of the lung tissues.

He'd aspirated an unusual amount
of chemical

and metallic particles
in an industrial accident.

And what effect did
this accident have on him?

Well, that amount of material
in the lung tissue produced

a chronic bronchitis, the first
stages of pulmonary emphysema.

He has, then, on occasion,
difficulty breathing,

very much as someone would have

who was suffering
from severe asthma?

Exactly the same symptoms.

And you prescribed
exactly the same treatment--

the same treatment
you would have prescribed

for an asthmatic?

(sighs)

Well, broadly speaking, yes.

In addition
to the long-term treatment,

the emergency treatment
is essentially the same.

By emergency treatment, Doctor,
you mean something

to help the patient quickly
to be able to breathe?

Yes.

A nebulizer it's called.

Something like this, Doctor?

This nebulizer belongs
to the defendant Bruce Jay

and was, I assume,
prescribed by you.

What drug does this contain,
Doctor?

Adrenaline.

(car horn honks)

For the love of Mike, Perry,

we've been here
for more than two hours.

How long are we going to wait?

All night if we have to.

What's the matter--
lose your curiosity?

After you sat there in court all
day without opening your mouth

and then go running off
in the middle of the night

to play cops and robbers?

No, I haven't lost my curiosity.

But... you suppose
Paul Drake is wrong?

I doubt it.

This character is a creature
of habit in more ways than one.

(chuckles)
That's just the trouble.

So am I, and one of my habits
happens to be sleeping at night.

Now, if he doesn't show up here
pretty soon, I'm just...

I'm sorry.

I..

Hey, look out,
the cops, the cops!

I'll take that book.

Let's have a look.

Tracey Boy,
you just got yourself

that platoon of promoters.

Yeah, I've been
on the stuff, uh...

over a year now.

When you first met
Rachel Gordon,

when you began to keep company,

was she aware that you were
a narcotics addict?

TRACEY:
No, not right away.

And when she discovered it?

She sent me to a private clinic
to kick it.

Among the dr*gs they used,

nalorphine was given
as part of your cure?

Yeah, they even gave me some
to take home.

This nalorphine
afterwards was like,

was like mainlining
with talcum powder-- nothing.

Just, uh, just the once,
the once I used it, that's all.

The attempted cure
was of short duration?

I found better ways
to spend her money.

Did Rachel Gordon then sever
her relationship with you?

No.

We were both hooked...

each in our own way.

She used my habit
to keep me in line.

I was chained to her,
to her pocketbook,

to the lousy money she kept
doling out to me for the stuff.

And sometimes she would not

or could not pay.

Yeah.

Sometimes it was, was bad,
real bad.

The time, for example,

two nights
before Abner Gordon's death,

when you tried to break into
the house through the side door?

TRACEY: Oh, you,
you don't know what it's like.

That, that fire inside of you.

Well, you'd do anything,
you'd lie, you'd steal, you'd...

k*ll?

No.

No, not that.

Don't try to pin that one on me.

You admitted to Paul Drake,

the subject was discussed
between you.

- Maybe I did, but...
- Such a simple answer--

k*ll Uncle Abner and inherit
a million and a half dollars.

Now, now, now,
I-look, look, mister.

Her-- she tried to make a clay
pigeon out of the old man--

her, not, not me.

And think of the junk
you could buy

for a million
and a half dollars.

No, no, you don't know
what you're talking about.

Wednesday night
you were desperate.

You tried to break
into the house.

You tried to break
into the house to see her,

unsuccessfully.

Thursday night Abner Gordon
had a stroke, and again

you didn't see her.

Then on Friday,

Friday she told you
there'd be no more money.

TRACEY:
No, no, that's a, that's a lie.

You didn't know where to turn.

Your body was starved for the
poison you'd been feeding it.

You were desperate.

No, that's not true.

So again on Friday
you returned to the house.

Stop it, stop it!

She phoned me-- I swear she did.

She left dough for me
in my apartment,

under the pillow--
a hundred bucks.

She called me at midnight
to tell me where she'd left it.

I found the dough
and I went out to get me a fix!

Honest.

It's the truth.

You got to believe me.

I was nowhere near the house
that night.

Honest, it's the truth.

I was nowhere near the house
that night.

The law reads
that there can be no homicide

unless a living human being
is the victim.

Of course, while the defendant
is not guilty of homicide

if his victim is not living,

he may be guilty
of an attempt to commit m*rder

or of an aggravated as*ault.

Tell me, have criminal charges
been filed against you

for f*ring three sh*ts into
the dead body of your uncle?

Not that I'm aware of, no.

Not even charges for attempted
m*rder or aggravated as*ault?

I don't think so.

MASON:
But you did want to k*ll him?

RACHEL:
Yes.

I'm sorry, but we must have
a clear picture

of your performance,
Miss Gordon.

Now, your plan was to k*ll
your uncle the next day

while you were alone with him

and claim it was the act
of some unknown housebreaker.

Is that the proper setting?

Yes.

Your desire was to k*ll him,
your intent was m*rder,

so you went into his room
and sh*t him.

But he was already dead.

MASON:
You didn't know that, however.

No, I didn't know that.

It's obvious to me that
even if the g*n were unloaded,

it's still as*ault
to thr*aten someone with it.

Not if there's
no present ability.

Please, can't you...?

Yes, present ability.

Present ability.

To convict a person,

to convict a person of as*ault,
it is not only necessary

to show that he intended
to inflict injury

but also that he had
present ability

to inflict such injury.

Of course, that's a legal term
one wouldn't know

unless he happened to read law,

and it is the law in California.

I admit I tried to k*ll him.

It was a terrible thing to do.

What more do you want me to say?

The burn on your arm--
I assume it's healing well?

Uh, yeah, yes, it's fine.

You know, that required
considerable courage.

Courage?

Deliberately burning yourself.

What?

Poor Rachel Gordon.

Everyone felt so sorry for you.

But that's what you wanted,
wasn't it?

No.

To be pitied, to be accepted
as sick, neurotic,

on the verge of a breakdown,

with a relentless drive

to k*ll the man responsible
for your condition.

You're out of your mind.

You knew
the coffeepot was broken.

That's why you picked it up,
jerked the handle loose,

and deliberately scalded
yourself.

No, I didn't.

Yes, Rachel, yes,

because it was necessary that
you have an undeniable reason

to force Dr. Lambert to give you

a pain-relieving opiate.

RACHEL: I don't know
what you're talking about.

Necessary for everyone to think

you were drugged,
sedated, sound asleep.

But I was drugged.

Oh, yes, but with two dr*gs.

After Dr. Lambert gave you
his injection,

you then took a sh*t
of your own,

isn't that right--
a sh*t of nalorphine?

The nalorphine you found
in your boyfriend's apartment?

No, stop it.

And nalorphine counteracts the
opiate, doesn't it, cancels it?

I ne-- I never heard
of such a thing.

And I never heard of such
a deliberately evil plan.

You knew if your uncle
ever d*ed, you'd be blamed,

and so, to divert all suspicion,

you k*lled him
not once but twice.

That's a lie.

You not only fired b*ll*ts
into your uncle's dead body,

you put Bruce Jay's adrenaline
into the bottle of heparin

and created the mixture
that k*lled him.

But I was asleep, I tell you.

Ask Dr. Lambert.

At : he put me to sleep.

He drugged me to sleep.

Then, how were you able to phone
Tracey Walcott at midnight

and tell him
to look under the pillow

for the money you had left him?

How?

No further questions.

You know, Paul, I missed the
clue on the : call entirely,

but then I looked it up
and there it was,

right in the Tracey Walcott
testimony.

Oh, I caught that one, but,
Perry, what gave you the idea

that Rachel was checking
into the law?

Well, if you see
a crooked picture,

you straighten it, don't you?

Huh?

Same with a book
you find upside-down.

There was one in their library.

When I straightened it,

I noticed
it was one of the penal codes

and there was no dust on it.

So someone there
might have been reading it,

but, Perry, what if it was
a maid's negligence

or an accident or...?

Della, you know
what Justice Holmes said

in reference to negligence?

It also applies to clues.

- He said...
-"Even a dog

distinguishes between being
stumbled over and being kicked."

(theme song playing)