08x11 - The Case of the Latent Lover

[bunniefuu]

(theme song playing)

♪♪

I'm sorry I didn't
wait breakfast for you.

I have an appointment at
the office with a client. Um...

- Eric, last night...
- I'm late, Sibyll.

When you signed these
property things last night,

you missed some. Here.

And here.

Thank you.

Nothing was resolved last night
about the divorce.

Not last night,
not for the months

you've been bothering me,
not ever.

It's a closed subject, Sibyll.

Your lover's just out of luck.

This is one of those
old-fashioned husbands

who simply refuses to cooperate.

There's nothing left between us!

I can't go on this way!

I love you.

No, no, Eric, a lot of things,
but not love!

Not ever love.

That is a lie.

- Please...
- Now, Sibyll, don't.

(soft, trembling gasp)

What is it?

Eric!

I'm all right, thank you.

- But you...
-I said I'm all right!

It's merely a dizzy spell,
nothing more.

Are you sure?

Perhaps you and your lover
might hope it was more,

but it wasn't.

Eric...

Eric, please!

♪♪

- Oh, good morning, Mr. Pollard.
- Morning, Aimee.

My : appointment here yet?
- Yes. But Mr. Talbot asked you,

please drop in
to his office first.

He has a Mr. Mason with him.
It'll only take a moment.

Eric.

Come in, Eric, come in.

Mr. Mason, this is
my junior partner, Eric Pollard.

- Mr. Pollard.
- How do you do, sir?

Mr. Mason is here
about the Smith estate.

I'm sure I speak for you, Eric,

when I tell him
how shocked we all were

learning about young Mr. Smith's
accidental death in Europe.

You, uh, you represent
his uncle's estate,

don't you, Mr. Mason?

I believe he inherited
from his uncle,

a conditional inheritance
with provision for reversion.

Yes, without heirs,
bonds, real property,

everything reverts
to the original estate.

I've already filed in probate.

I anticipated you would.

We've already complete an audit

with outside accountants,
Mr. Mason.

Records are complete,
the assets ready for transfer

the moment the court
gives the go-ahead.

Well, with that
kind of efficiency,

I'll consider letting you
handle some of my investments.

TALBOT:
Anytime, Mr. Mason, anytime.

And I'm sure that you'd find
that Eric more than justifies

his reputation as being
one of the top men in the field.

You're very kind, Harlan.

- Some coffee, Eric?
- Uh, no, thank you.

I have a man
waiting in my office.

Unless there's something else?

Just my thanks.

Pleasure.

-(low gasp)
- TALBOT: Eric, what is it?

(low groan)

I just, uh, was dizzy
for a moment.

You all right?

(panting):
Yeah. Thank you.

If I go on checking balance
sheets at : in the morning,

I'm gonna have to pocket
my vanity,

admit I'm getting older
and get myself some eyeglasses.

(chuckles)
I-I'm all right, thank you.

It was a pleasure
meeting you, Mr. Mason.

Uh, Aimee, no, uh, I don't
want to see anybody just...

Something wrong, Mr. Pollard?

(takes deep breath) No, I just
need a breath of fresh air.

I'll be right back.

MAN: It's the truth, Officer,
the gospel truth.

I didn't smash my cab
into this light pole.

'Course not,
'course not. I did.

It's just like I told you;
you got to believe me.

This guy, this crazy guy,
he jumps into my cab,

two blocks down there.

He jumps into my cab,
and he's yelling,

he's yelling
at the top of his lungs:

-"I'm gonna rob a bank!"
- Yeah, sure, I'll bet.

That's what he said:
"I'm gonna rob a bank!"

You offered to drive him
to the bank?

Officer, you
just ain't listening.

Like I told you, he gets in
and he sticks a g*n

in the back of my head,
makes me get out of the cab.

Then he gets in and drives,
all by himself,

drives right here,
right here and smashes my cab

into that light pole!

That's right, Officer.
I saw it happen.

He's telling the truth.

OFFICER:
Oh? What's your name?

CABBIE:
That's him. That's him!

That's the man!

Well, don't just stand there;
arrest him.

He's the guy that stuck me up
and smashed up my cab!

- OFFICER: Now, look, fella...
- That's the man, all right,

Officer, I recognize him, too.

Sure it is.
Sure, that's him.

Well, just a moment,
now, what's going on here?

What is this, Officer?

I'm sorry.
Now, just turn around.

This is ridiculous.

If it is, I'll be
the first to apologize.

Now, turn around, lean forward,

put your hands
against that wall.

Mister, you're under arrest.

Court is adjourned.

Oh, that Burt's
the most tenacious young man

I've ever encountered
in a courtroom.

- He wears me out.
- Not a bad lawyer, either.

Bad? One of these days,
Burt will be wearing

a judge's black robe;
it's in the cards.

Oh, I put a file
there on your desk.

State v. Eric Pollard.

Why this one?

The supervising
deputy probation officer,

Roy Galen's, outside.

He wanted to see you
about the case.

Oh, well, show him in.

Judge Alder will
see you how, Mr. Galen.

- Oh, hello, Roy.
- Your Honor.

- Glad to see you. Sit down.
- Thank you.

I didn't know the supervising
probation officers

personally handled cases.

Is Eric Pollard your baby?

No, he's nobody's yet.

I don't even know him.

I'm sure he doesn't know me.

His wife's a friend of mine
from years back.

- She asked me for help.
- Oh.

Well, without
prejudging the matter,

I would say that this report
is pretty cut-and-dried.

When Pollard is tried,

if he's convicted-- you
understand, if he's convicted--

then and then only
will the probation department

become involved, impersonally.

Don't jump me yet.

I'm not stepping out of line,
legally or ethically.

But you do want
to help this man's wife

all you can, don't you?

Now, don't get any ideas.

I proposed to Sibyll a long time
ago but got turned down.

Now, all I'm suggesting is

that you request
a probation report now

under CCP . .

Before trial?

The g*n they found on Pollard,

(chuckles):
the g*n he allegedly used

to stick up the cabbie with,

it's an old
Japanese w*r souvenir,

the f*ring mechanism removed
or more years ago.

Completely inoperable.

Unless you want to use the butt
to, uh, cr*ck walnuts.

He was gonna use that
to hold up a bank?

(chuckles) Yeah,
the neatest trick of the week.

You see, he was arrested
at : in the morning.

Well, the banks
don't open till : .

Oh, I think I see what you mean.

With a probation report
before trial,

there's a possibility
there might not be a trial.

All right, Roy, . it is.

But I must have
a psychiatric evaluation

along with the probation report.

Fine.

♪♪

Well, here's another incident.

You agreed orally
with the terms of the contract

and asked that it be prepared
for your signature.

Then you signed another contract
with a different company

for the same services less
than an hour after you agreed

to the first contract.

Would you care to look
at the records, Mr. Pollard?

No, Dr. Jenkins, if you insist
that's what the documents show,

well... I certainly don't
question your integrity

or your good intentions.

But you question the validity
of the proofs I've shown you.

Proof that I am
mentally incompetent?

Yes, of course I question that.

Do you think
they've been fabricated

or manufactured
to embarrass you?

No, I'm not suffering from
a persecution complex, either.

I can't imagine anybody
who'd want to deliberately

create evidence
of my misfeasance.

But during the past two weeks,
there have been

half a dozen separate
but similar circumstances of...

well, shall we say, highly
unlikely business procedures

on your part.

Why, your office has only just
learned of them since yesterday.

Now, if they're not true
and not fabricated,

how do you characterize them?

Misinterpreted facts.

I never did, I never
could have done such things.

And the episode with the taxi?

Oh, come, now, Dr. Jenkins,
you know as well as I do

-that cabdriver was lying.
- And the witnesses?

Mistaken, I should guess.

What about the fact
that your wife identified

the g*n as one
of your souvenirs?

Quite a few Japanese pistols
were brought home

in the s, Dr. Jenkins.

Your wife couldn't be mistaken

in her identification?

Sibyll's a...
wonderful woman.

Really wonderful.

Then you have a...

happy personal relationship,
a good marriage?

More happiness than a man
has a right to ask for.

Um... I've really been blessed
to have her as my wife.

Then there's no rift
between the two of you?

Rift?

(chuckles):
Ridiculous.

Is that what she says?

(sighs)
Well...

Has she said there is a rift?

I love her. I...

I-I told her that I love her.

She never begged you
for a divorce?

Who is he?
What's his name?

You're a doctor,
maybe she's told you,

maybe you know.

Who's the man
she's in love with? Who?

Who! Who!

"Therefore
this persistent delusion,

"coupled with
the sporadic irrationality,

"leads to no conclusion
other than that Eric Pollard

"is unable, unassisted,

"to manage or to take care
of his property,

"and by reason thereof
is likely to be deceived

or imposed upon
by artful or designing persons.”

Well, the language complies
with the codes--

a legal definition
of incompetency.

You mean that psychiatrist
found Eric insane?

No. Merely incompetent,
at present,

to handle his own or
anyone else's business affairs.

(laughs) Well, that's exactly
what we do--

handle other people's
business affairs,

manage their investments.

Dean, you're the company lawyer.

Where does all this leave us?

Does it force a dissolution
of the partnership?

I wouldn't want to do anything
to hurt Eric,

but on the other hand...

Well, the partnership
agreement states

that in the case
of a temporary incapacity,

his wife has power of attorney,

more or less a guardian
ad litem.

Me? Eric's guardian?

Strictly pro forma,
Mrs. Pollard.

A matter of record until we see

how long this situation
with Eric will last.

I suppose, Mr. Galen,

that the charges against Eric
can be dropped now,

and he can be checked into
a good rest home for treatment?

No, Mr. Talbot,
that's not what happens now.

But if the psychiatrist's report

merely states
that he's incompetent...

In business affairs, yes.

But it also states
that at the time

of the commission
of the act involved,

Eric Pollard could not only
distinguish

between right and wrong,

but was fully aware
of the consequences of his act.

I don't understand, Roy.

What does that mean?

It means your husband is going
to have to stand trial.

JUDGE ALDER:
Now, before we go on the record,

let me make the position
of this court perfectly clear.

I'm holding these proceedings
in my chamber in the hope

that the matter may be resolved
through probation.

Now, to me, probation is a very
simple and effective method

of applying
corrective assistance

to those in conflict
with the law

without harm to society.

Now, Mr. Burger,
do you have any objection

to our handling
the matter in this way?

Judge Alder, the district
attorney's office has no desire

to see a first offender,
especially a man like

Mr. Pollard here,

destroyed by the adverse
publicity of a criminal trial.

We're perfectly willing to
accept proceedings in chambers.

But as to probation, Your Honor,

may I remind you that
this charge is armed robbery?

Section
grants judicial discretion

in unusual cases, Mr. Burger,

such as the determination
of the distinction

between a deadly w*apon
and a souvenir.

(chuckles)

Very well, Your Honor.

The District Attorney's office
will be happy

to drop that particular
hot potato right in your lap,

with every confidence

in the court's ability
to judge the facts.

JUDGE ALDER:
I'm not sure

I should thank you
for that, Mr. Burger.

I'll reserve decision.

Counsel for the defendant?

Dean Franklin for the defense--
present, Your Honor.

JUDGE ALDER:
Mr. Franklin,

in the charges
in the information,

how does your client plead?

On all counts,
guilty, Your Honor.

And you waive arraignment
of judgment, Counsel?

So waived, Your Honor.

There's no legal reason
why sentence

should not now be imposed.

Will the defendant please rise?

The court finds you guilty
as charged,

and sentences you
to five years at hard labor

in the state penitentiary.

- But...
- It's all right, Eric.

Just procedure.

JUDGE ALDER:
The county probation officer?

For the record,
copies of the probation report,

authorized pursuant
to section point three

of the Code of Civil Procedure,

have been furnished the court
and all parties to the action.

It is respectfully recommended,
Your Honor,

that the defendant,
Mr. Eric Pollard,

be granted probation.

JUDGE ALDER: Mr. Pollard, the
sentence is herewith suspended.

You are placed on probation
for a period of three years,

upon the following conditions.

That you make full restitution
for all damages,

that you will cooperate
with the probation officer

on a plan for a weekly
psychiatric treatment,

and that you report to,
as directed,

and obey all laws, orders, rules

and regulations of the probation
department and the court.

Do you understand the terms
of the probation, Mr. Pollard?

I do, sir.

JUDGE ALDER:
Do you accept them?

I do.

It is so ordered.
Court is adjourned.

Uh, just one moment,
Judge Alder.

JUDGE ALDER:
Yes?

Believe me, sir, I cast
no aspersions on this court,

but I want my wife,
you, Sibyll--

I want you to know
you don't fool me for a moment.

Eric.

This is no more than a clever
effort to circumvent my wishes,

to divorce me
and marry your lover.

Eric!

I know who it is now.

Him! That man!

The probation officer!

No, no, no, darling,
I don't want to wait.

What else can we do?

I can't leave him now.

Yes, I feel just as badly
as you do,

but it only means postponing
the trip, not giving it up.

And just for a little while,
sweetheart.

Just for a little, little while.

I know it won't be long.

I love you, too.

Of course I love you, but...

(phone clacks onto receiver)

Your maid let me in.

I have some papers
Mr. Franklin wanted you to sign.

(laughs): I was on my way
to the office now

in just a few minutes.

These are forms to be signed
for the bonding company.

You can go on over
to the office.

I'll run these right over
to the bonding company.

- They're waiting for them.
- Bonding?

In temporarily acting
for your husband

under the power of attorney,

I believe Mr. Talbot told you
that you had to be bonded.

Would you sign right here,
Mrs. Pollard?

Miss Wynne...

Aimee, that telephone call...

I've been your husband's
private secretary for ten years.

Please don't ask me
to understand.

But you don't understand.

There's nothing I can do about
what destroyed Eric Pollard,

but I don't have to like it.

You self-righteous snob!

I couldn't care less
what you think or what you like!

Will you sign, please?

Thank you.

I seem to have misplaced
my car keys.

I have a set in the desk.

Unless that's a delusion, too.

(grunts)

Tricky things, delusions.

Ah, here they are.

Saved the day.

Saved my sanity,

and saved cab fare.

Ladies, I'm on my way,
like a good little boy,

to report to my alter ego,
the probation officer.

Rather pleasant young man
named Nat Rudick.

But if I run into his boss,
Mr. Roy Galen,

I'll be sure
to give him your Jove, Sibyll.

There we are.

Signed, sealed,

and through the good offices
of Mr. Franklin, delivered.

Mr. Mason, I think that should
take care of the estate

of the young man
who d*ed in Europe.

Thank you.

I feel so funny
every time I sign for Eric.

At least we know that Eric did a
wonderful job on that last one.

And I understand, Mr. Mason,

that your accountants
were very pleased, too.

Everything correct
to the last decimal point.

Well, in that case, let's just
go down to the club

and celebrate
over some lunch, huh?

Pollard.

That's who I want,
Sibyll Pollard.

Mr. Mann.

Leo, what is it?

You, lady,

you're the only female around.

Is this your John Henry signed
at the bottom here?

W... why, yes.
I'm Sibyll Pollard.

Then what in blazes
did you do with my money?

Now, wait a minute.

Leo, you may be
a valued client, but...

A quarter of a million
in blue chips liquidated.

On her authority.

Yours, lady.

My $ , , where is it?

Aimee, will you come in here,
please?

Mr. Mann, I don't know where
you learned your manners but...

No.

Hold it, Dean,
please, hold it.

Leo, you've been out of town.

Now, you know very well

the company's most likely
just been rearranging

the holdings in your portfolio.

Mrs. Pollard here

would have merely signed
the order, that's all.

There's no reason
to get excited.

Aimee, will you check
Mr. Mann's portfolio, please?

That's just what
I've been doing, Mr. Talbot,

and there is something
I don't understand.

You see,

Mr. Pollard always handled
Mr. Mann's account, personally,

until, well, until, uh...

Until she, her there,

signed the authorization
to liquidate some of my stocks.

Now, what in the name of...

HARLAN:
All right, all right, Leo.

But your quarter of a million
is perfectly safe

in a company that handles ten
times that amount each month.

There's probably a very simple
explanation for this.

Well, I'm sorry
if I've offended the lady,

but this business is crazy!

Mr. Mann, this company
is trustee for your investments,

not any one individual.

You agreed to that setup
when you became a client here.

You must also be aware
of the fact

that like anyone else
who signs orders,

Mrs. Pollard
is personally bonded.

So, if you'll be good enough
to give us a minute

until we've finished
our business with Mr. Mason.

Oh, that's quite all right.

I'm leaving now.

Good day.

Well, won't somebody
start to explain?

All right, so you're an
intelligent, well-educated man,

a man capable of separating,
in his own mind,

the real from the unreal.

Separating facts, facts, doctor,

from those terribly naughty
mistakes of the imagination.

What do you call them,
Dr. Jenkins, illusions?

Well, if you're referring
to your stubborn belief

in your wife's so-called
romantic entanglements...

So-called?

You keep saying
it's obsessional,

more a delusion than illusion,

a symptom, perhaps, of paranoia?

Well, an unreasoning belief
in the impossible...

Is called a delusion, right?

All right, yes,
it's called a delusion, but...

This is a letter
from South America.

A letter confirming
a one-year lease

on a furnished apartment,

leased in the names
of Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Porter.

An S, Doctor,

and a P.

My wife, um,

has expensive,
initialed luggage.

Well, an S and a P can stand
for Steven Porter.

They're nothing but initials.

Nothing to indicate
that those initials have

to be your wife's.

Oh, of course not.

Especially when the confirmation

is addressed
not to Mrs. Steven Porter,

but to Mrs. Sibyll Pollard,
my wife.

Here, take a look.

Well, there's probably
some explanation.

Oh, yeah, of course.

For this, as well.

Two tickets, one-way tickets,
to South America

reserved for Mr.
and Mrs. Steven Porter.

I found them hidden
in my wife's bedroom

along with the confirmation
of the reservation.

Now, good doctor,

what were you saying about,
um, a delusion?

(crickets chirping)

But it could have been the maid.

But Eric must have taken them.

It had to be Eric.

It couldn't be anybody else.

Roy, please.

I begged you to come here

because you've got
to get them back from him.

Sibyll, Sibyll, please, please.

(sobbing)
Roy, you must.

(shutter clicks)

What was that light?

Somebody took a picture of us.

♪♪

And so in answer
to your request...

(phone rings)

Perry Mason's office.

Just a minute, please.

Roy Galen for you.

Probation officer.

Roy, how are you?

In trouble, I'm afraid, Perry.

Can I help?

Well, that's why I called.

Any chance I can see you
in the morning, early?

: early enough?

Fine.

Thank you, Perry.

Couple of reports I'd like
to go over with you, Mr. Galen.

Sure, Nat.

(phone ringing)

County probation,
Officer Roy Galen.

SIBYLL (through phone):
Don't! Please don't!

You're hurting me...
hurting me...

Sibyll, is that you?

What is it?

No, no, don't!

No, no, no!
(screams)

Sibyl, are you all right?

What was that?

Mr. Galen.

Mr. Rudick, step aside, please.

I'm going
into that man's office.

I'm your probation officer,
not Mr. Galen.

He's the supervisor.

Anything you have to say,
you say to me.

This is personal and private.

I'm afraid nothing
a probationer does is private.

You see, Mr. Pollard,
he isn't here.

Then I'll wait for him here.

All night, if I have to.

That's more than irrational.

It's stupid and impossible.

Don't forget the bit
about delusions.

I suffer from that, too.

Here, take a look at that.

Tell me how stupid
and irrational I am.

That's right, my wife
in Roy Galen's comforting arms.

I'll wait, Mr. Rudick,

because when Roy Galen comes in,

I'm gonna k*ll him.

Sibyll?

Sibyll!

(grunts)

(phone rings)

County probation, Nat Rudick.

What?

That was Roy Galen.

Is he coming back here?

No, he's not.

He was just arrested.

Arrested?

Arrested for what?

For the m*rder of your wife.

HARLAN:
$ , were stolen

from the account
of Mr. Leo Mann.

A quarter of a million dollars
worth of stocks liquidated.

Liquidated by whom, Mr. Talbot?

Well, Sibyll Pollard's signature
was on the order, of course,

but that's only a temporary...

Mr. Talbot, you've heard
evidence in this courtroom,

have you not,
about the reservations

that Mrs. Pollard made

for herself and a man
in South America,

a furnished apartment leased
for one year?

Yes, I have.

And, of course, the reservations
she made personally,

one way tickets to South America
for herself and a man?

HARLAN:
Yes.

BURGER:
Mr. Talbot,

assuming Sibyll Pollard wanted
a large sum of money

with which to live abroad,

couldn't she simply
have obtained

as much as she wanted
from her own estate?

I object to the question,
Your Honor.

It assumes facts not
in evidence.

Moreover, it calls for opinion
and conclusion

from the witness.

May I remind counsel,
Your Honor,

that Mr. Talbot
is an acknowledged expert

in the field of trusts
and estates.

And furthermore, Mr. Talbot
personally set up the estate

from which Mrs. Pollard
derived her income.

I will gladly stipulate

that the witness
is indeed an expert,

but not as regarding
the personal and private desires

or motivations
of Sibyll Pollard.

Objection sustained.

Rephrase your question,
Mr. Burger.

Mr. Talbot,

was Sibyll Pollard
a wealthy woman?

Well, actually, no.

She had a life estate,

the use of income
from some real estate

set up by her late father
before she was married.

I believe it provided her
with separate income

of approximately $ a month.

I see.

Could she have sold
this property

and used the cash
for her personal wants?

No.

Under the terms of the will,
it was possible for her

to pledge it as security
for the bond she needed

in order to continue to receive
Eric's income as his guardian,

but she could not sell
nor otherwise dispose of it.

Well, what happened
to this property

when Sibyll Pollard d*ed...
was m*rder*d?

Did her husband inherit
this life estate?

No, at her death,

the property
was automatically assigned,

under the terms of the will,

to a group
of specified charities.

That is,
what's left of the estate

after the bonding company
satisfies its security pledge

to pay off that quarter
of a million dollars.

So, what Sibyll Pollard
could not do directly,

that is take money
from her own estate,

she could do indirectly
by embezzling the funds

and letting
a bonding company recover

from her estate?

Objection, Your Honor.

I withdraw the question.

Your witness.

No questions.

I call Dean Franklin
to the stand, please.

Mr. Franklin,
to your personal knowledge,

was the decedent,
Sibyll Pollard, happily married?

No.

On what do you base that answer?

She came to me, as an attorney,

to the request that
I initiate divorce proceedings

against her husband,
Eric Pollard.

BURGER:
I see, and did you?

No. I explained to her

that she had no legal grounds
for a divorce.

Eric Pollard,
if he was nothing else,

was a good husband
in every sense of the word.

BURGER:
Really?

Well, since she was married

to this paragon
of matrimonial virtue,

why did Mrs. Pollard want
a divorce?

She...

she was in love
with another man.

She said on the telephone,

"I just can't leave him
just now."

Then she said: "It only means
postponing our trip,

not giving it up, sweetheart".

BURGER: And then what did she
say, Miss Wynne?

She said, "I love you, too."

Then she turned
and saw me standing

in the doorway
and hung up.

No, Miss Wynne,
as I understand it,

you were there to get
Mrs. Pollard's signature

on some papers,
is that correct?

For the bonding company, yes.

Well, then you probably
the person

who had the decedent sign
the authorization

liquidating that quarter
of a million dollars

from the account
of Mr. Leo Mann.

Oh, no, sir,
I never saw that paper.

Well, didn't you handle
Mr. Mann's account?

I didn't handle it.

I did do all
the secretarial work on it

for Mr. Pollard,

but he never gave me
that authorization to prepare

and neither did anyone else
in the office.

Well, that authorization was
certainly prepared by someone?

And the money was transferred.

Yes.

Now, handwriting analysis
has proven

that the signature
on that authorization

was unquestionably
Mrs. Pollard's.

Since you claim you didn't
prepare the authorization,

perhaps you processed it?

No, I didn't process it,

but our office records show
that it was processed

after Mrs. Pollard had the right
to sign her husband's name.

Let me ask you this, Miss Wynne.

When Leo Mann practically
accused Mrs. Pollard

of stealing that money
in your presence,

did Mrs. Pollard deny it?

Not in my presence, she didn't.

All I know was
she was pretty shaken up

and very upset.

BURGER:
Thank you, Miss Wynne.

I couldn't hear anything

on the other end
of the phone conversation,

but whatever it was,
it upset Mr. Galen.

What did Mr. Galen say
to the other party on the phone?

Well, he just kept calling out,

"Sibyll, Sibyll, what is it?
Are you all right?"

And what did he do then?

He ran out of the office.

When Mr. Galen ran
out of the office,

did somebody else,
by any chance,

run into it, looking for him?

NAT:
Yes, Mr. Eric Pollard.

He wanted to see Mr. Galen

to, uh, show him a photograph.

Was it this photograph,
Mr. Rudick,

people's exhibit seven?

A photograph of the decedent,
Sibyll Pollard,

in the arms
of the defendant, Roy Galen?

Yes.

What time was it, Mr. Rudick,

when the defendant, Roy Galen,
ran out of his office

in response to a phone call
from somebody he called Sibyll?

It was about : .

: ?

No, that's a little too precise.

I'd say that Sibyll Pollard
was m*rder*d somewhere

between the hours of :
and : p.m.

I see, and what was
the cause of death, Doctor?

Manual strangulation.

From the absence of finger marks
on the throat,

the m*rder*r used his forearm

or the palm of his hand
to exert pressure

against the front of the larynx
and close the lumen

by shortening
its anteroposterior diameter.

The autopsy disclosed only
the signs of asphyxiation

without any discernible marks
on the skin

and only barely
perceptible injuries

to the deeper structures
of the neck.

A motorcycle officer spotted
the defendant, Roy Galen,

driving his car
in excess of miles an hour

in a mile zone
and gave chase.

Did he apprehend him,
Lieutenant?

No, sir, he lost him
on a blind turn

and a fork in the road.

When the officer realized
the defendant must have taken

the other turn,
he called in.

Headquarters ordered a squad car

to patrol the immediate area
in circles

and they eventually located
the car of the defendant

on a street.

Exactly where was
the car located

when they found it?

Outside the home
of the decedent, Sibyll Pollard.

And was Roy Galen,
the defendant,

in the car at that time?

ANDERSON:
No, sir, he was not.

Just as the squad car officer

started up the walk
to the house,

the door opened,

and the defendant
came running out

practically
into the officer's arms.

Exactly what time was that,
Lieutenant?

: .

And did the officer then go

into the house
with the defendant?

Yes, sir, he did.

He wanted to find out
what he was running away from.

That's when he found the body
of Sibyll Pollard

in the library, dead.

You say your name
is Lawrence West,

and that you're a licensed
private detective?

That's right. Larry West,

West Confidential
Investigations.

I show you this picture,
Mr. West,

people's exhibit seven.

I ask

if you were hired
to take that picture?

Yes, I was.

- By whom?
- Mr. Eric Pollard.

He said his wife was carrying on
with some man.

He wanted me to shadow her and
get proof of who the man was.

That's it, that's the proof.

Well, this seems to be proof

only that
at this particular moment,

the defendant was holding
the decedent in his arms.

All right,
she was carrying on with him

to the point where she was
in his arms, yeah.

However, this photograph was
apparently taken at close range.

If the two people in it had been
talking at the time you took it,

you might have heard
what they said.

Well, she was
practically hysterical,

asking him to get back
some stuff for her

that her husband had found
hidden in her room.

Go on.

Well, that's when I took
the picture.

It was a flash picture.

He chased me.

BURGER: I see,
so you didn't hear anymore?

WEST:
Oh, sure, I heard more.

BURGER:
You did-- how?

I doubled back, that's all.

Just made a circle and came
right back behind them--

out of sight.

So then you actually heard
more conversation

between the defendant
and this woman

who was to be found m*rder*d
in a matter of hours?

That's right.

He-- the defendant--

he was real mad now.

She was crying and carrying on.

He couldn't stand it.

When she said, "I'm afraid...

afraid he'll k*ll me,”

well, the defendant grabbed
her by the shoulders,

and he sort of shook her.

And did he say anything
to her at that moment?

He sure did.

He held her hard and he said:

"Right now, if anybody's
gonna k*ll you, Sibyll...

it'll be me.”

Mr. Eric Pollard?

- Yes.
- My name's Paul Drake.

I'm a private detective.

Well, that's interesting, but I
already have one, thank you.

I know.
But he only found a man.

That's all I paid him to find.

What about a quarter
of a million dollars?

You saying you know what my wife
did with that money?

Well, I don't exactly
want to broadcast what I know.

Oh, we're alone in the house.

Well, Mr. Drake?

I understand there's a reward

for the recovery
of stolen property.

Mr. Drake, I'm a rather...

unfortunate financial orphan
at the moment.

I'm, uh...

incompetent, remember?

But you're still a partner
in the firm

from which the money
was stolen.

So is Harlan Talbot.
Why don't you

sell your information to him?

Because just maybe,
he might not be in the market.

Obviously you know me.

I like to make sure who my
business associates are.

You have identification?

- A license?
- Certainly.

Well, Mr. Pollard,
ready to talk?

Yes, Mr. Drake,
I'm ready to talk.

Good.

- To the police.
- Hold on.

An implied thr*at to expose
Harlan Talbot

as an embezzler if I don't
arrange a payoff?

That's extortion.

- Don't you believe me?
- Believe...

Every word was a lie.

A stupid, clumsy lie even
a child could see through.

That's a laugh.

From a guy the court says
is off his rocker,

who smashes a cab,
then beefs he wasn't even there.

I'll admit I was there,
that I did it.

I'll swear to it under oath.

Just as I'll swear under oath
to what's happened here, now.

Just a minute.

If you're so anxious
to swear under oath,

be in court tomorrow morning.

What's this?

A present, Mr. Pollard,
from Perry Mason.

A subpoena. Good night.

MASON: Doctor, you examined
the decedent

at the scene of the crime?

Yes.
I answered the police call.

Did you also examine
the defendant?

The defendant?

Well, he stated to the police

that he had been
struck on the head,

momentarily knocked down.

DOCTOR:
Yes, he did. Yes, I...

did examine his head.

May I ask what you found?

DOCTOR:
Oh, a slight bruise

where he claimed
he had been struck.

Claimed?

Well, what I meant was, he...
could just as easily

have struck his head
on a piece of furniture

during the struggle.

What struggle?

Well, when he was
strangling the...

I, um...

hope we're not wasting
the court's time, doctor,

reviewing the facts of a case
in which you have

not only determined
exactly what happened,

but have determined the guilt
of the defendant as well.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mason.
You're right.

That was merely
an assumption on my part.

Was your estimate of the time

of Sibyll Pollard's death
also an assumption?

No, of course not.

My estimate was based on
an examination

to determine the lapse of time
between death,

and the time
I examined the body.

You found pronounced stiffness
in the body musculature?

Almost spasm.

Unquestionably recent
muscular exertion

in fighting off the strangler.

Or could it have been
normal rigor mortis?

Now that is possible,
isn't it, doctor?

DOCTOR: Well, yes,
I suppose it is.

Just as it's possible
that the fire in the fireplace

affected the change
in body temperature?

Well, actually, when I arrived

there was practically
no fire at all.

If there had been a fire

effecting the body temperature,

could death have occurred
as much as half an hour earlier?

Say at : ?

Well, put that way...

yes, it could have.

MASON:
At : ?

- Well...
- Or : ? : ?

Early as : , perhaps?

Oh, come now, Mr. Mason,

I'm sure you know
that's highly unlikely.

And I'm sure you know
that your estimate

was based less on what
you observed as a doctor

than it was on the fact you

knew the time
of the defendant's presence,

took it for granted he k*lled
Sibyll Pollard,

and assumed, therefore,

that she was k*lled
at that time.

No further questions.

No questions, doctor.

JUDGE:
The witness is excused.

The defense calls Dean Franklin.

Mr. Franklin...

do you know Section
of the Penal Code?

My practice doesn't include
criminal law, Mr. Mason.

Section defines when a
person is guilty of perjury.

I suggest you may

find yourself guilty of
defamation, counselor,

despite the privileged nature
of this proceeding.

Seven months ago, you spent
a weekend at Santa Barbara.

Two weeks later, Las Vegas.

A month after that,
an entire week in San Francisco.

Is what I've stated true so far?

Yes, yes, I believe it is.

MASON: And in each instance,
you registered

as Mr. and Mrs. Dean Franklin.
Is that correct?

Perhaps you'd
like to refresh your memory.

You examine these Photostats.

Are these your signatures
on the registration cards?

Yes.

Mr. Franklin...

are you married?

No.

MASON:
Speak up, please.

No.

Have you ever been married?

No.

MASON: I remind you of Section
of the Penal Code,

and I warn you that
I have proof of the answer

to my question.

Who was the woman you registered

each and every time
as your wife?

Sibyll Pollard.

Sibyll and Dean...

I'm shocked.

I'm absolutely shocked.

You were in no way
involved with Sibyll Pollard?

Me?
Oh, good heavens, no.

You weren't with her

in her house
the night she was k*lled?

What?

MASON: When Roy Galen
ran into that library,

Sibyll Pollard was already dead,

and then someone struck
Roy on the head.

Where you that someone,
Mr. Talbot?

TALBOT:
You're out of your mind.

MASON:
Where were you that evening?

I was at my club.

That's right,
I was at my club.

I was to have had an appointment
with Dean Franklin and...

"Was to have had
an appointment?”

What happened?

Dean never showed up...

He left a message for me

that he'd had a call...

an emergency call...

A call?

Yes, I think I do remember
Sibyll making a call

early that evening,

but I had no more
way of knowing

she was calling Dean Franklin
than I had of knowing that Dean

was the man
she was really in love with.

DEAN: Your wife made another
telephone call

later that evening

to Roy Galen.

Did you also
overhear that call?

No, I was downtown.

MASON:
Oh, yes, of course.

In the probationer's office.

At : you were walking
in one corridor

while Roy Galen
was running out another,

just seconds
after your wife phoned him.

Exactly.

So why you have me on the stand
instead of Dean Franklin...

If Dean was in the house
when Roy Galen got there...

Then you obviously
had nothing to do

with your wife's m*rder.

Not unless delusions
are contagious.

Mr. Pollard...

the district attorney
and the Judge have agreed

to let me explore
one of those delusions.

Now, undoubtedly,

someone was attacking your wife,

when she made her
desperate call to Galen.

Now you could not have been that
person, could you, Mr. Pollard?

Well, since I was downtown,

practically at the other end
of that telephone call...

No one could be at both ends
of a telephone,

is that what you mean?

Right now, for example,

you couldn't be
sitting here by me

and be with Paul Drake at the
other end of this phone?

I don't know
what you're driving at,

but I certainly
had nothing to do

with my wife's death.

POLLARD'S VOICE:
Every word was a lie.

A stupid, clumsy lie

even a child could see through.

MASON: Mr. Pollard,
did you k*ll your wife?

POLLARD'S VOICE: I'll admit
I was there...

that I did it.
I'll swear to it under oath.

Stop it!

Earlier...

one hour earlier, with a strong
fire in the fireplace,

while you strangled
your wife to death,

you recorded her voice
on a portable tape recorder.

That's a lie.
A lie.

MASON: You rushed down
to the Hall of Records.

In the lobby,
a public telephone.

You dialed Roy's number,

then played a section
of that tape recording

to him over the telephone.

No! No! No!

Quickly, you hid
the portable tape recorder

and ran in to the office
to set up your alibi.

That was one hour
after you'd m*rder*d your wife.

Eric confronted her,
in the library,

with the picture of the two
of you taken in the park.

Tape recorder was hidden
and turned on.

Perhaps he was only looking

for evidence to keep her quiet,

but she sort of lost her head,

and told him
she'd called a lawyer

and was gonna expose him.

Eric didn't know that she had
called Dean Franklin,

that Dean was the man
she was in love with,

and he didn't know
that Dean was coming over.

You see, it was Dean
who hit you on the head.

He arrived just before you,

and walked in to find
Sibyll Pollard dead.

After Sibyll knew
of Eric's plan,

it meant his either k*lling her,
or going to prison.

What plan?

MASON:
A young man named Smith

unexpectedly d*ed in Europe.

Eric Pollard was caught
having illegally mortgaged

a quarter of a million dollars
of Smith's assets

to obtain money
for speculative investments.

Investments that went sour.

The Smith estate
had to be closed.

So he turned to his wife.

But wait a minute.

That business
of being incompetent.

It was a fake.

The business mistakes,
the taxi routine...

all a planned fake.

And he'd prepared
the necessary documents

in advance,
and had his wife sign them.

And swiped the money
from that overage Texas teenager

and made up the Smith shortage.

(sighs)

And I walked
right into the middle of that.

Judge Alder was right.

Where trouble is concerned,
the only good involvement

is no involvement.

DELLA:
I have a question, Paul.

How did you get Eric
to let you record his voice?

Microphone and transmitter,
self-contained with batteries.

The recording set's
out in my car.

Nice, huh?

Nice?

You electronic eavesdropper.

It's not safe to even
think around you anymore.

(theme song playing)