02x11 - Charivari

[bunniefuu]

[knife thunks]

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a bold, adventurin' man ♪

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ Battled for right with a powerful hand ♪

♪ His blade was tempered and so was he ♪

♪ Indestructible steel was he

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a fighter, a fearless and mighty adventurin' man ♪

- [Jim Voiceover] The adventure started

in my New Orleans hotel when Jean Martel's daughter,

Miss Denise, came to call on me.

It was the first time we'd met

since she and her Papa left my home town, Opelousas.

She's an old friend and neighbor, and I was glad to see her.

- Miss Denise!

- Monsieur Bowie!

- Please sit down, won't you?

- Thank you.

How is your Mama?

- Oh, Mama's fine, just fine.

She's put on a little weight.

- That's nice.

- Yeah, well, you know how it is with Mindy's cooking.

How's your father's health?

- His health is all right.

- Good, good.

But he's not happy here, is that it?

- Oh, he, he's happy enough.

Maybe a little too happy.

It is Papa.

I am so worried about him.

We only have each other since Mama died.

- Yes, I know, you've always been devoted to him.

- I've tried to take Mama's place,

but about six weeks ago, he met a young widow here.

A Madame Ellen Hill from Cincinnati.

And since then, he has seen her every day,

and this morning--

- Yes, this morning?

- This morning at breakfast he told me

he plans to marry her.

- Oh, I see.

- She's young enough to be his daughter.

His granddaughter!

She has no breeding, no background.

She is only after his money, it is obvious.

I only know there is something mysterious

and something evil in our house,

and I have a most horrible sense of foreboding.

It is Madame Ellen Hill, I know it is!

- Well, what'd she do?

- It was not anything she did, it was her face.

I saw her face without her mask,

when she thought no one could see her.

It was full of triumph,

and completely without a soul.

Once she marries Papa and gets his money,

there is nothing she would not do, not even m*rder!

- Now, Miss Denise, you don't actually believe

that your father's life's in danger?

- Oh, but I do, the gravest danger!

That is why I've come to you, Monsieur Bowie.

At least go see him, promise me you will do that.

- All right, all right.

I'll stop by tomorrow morning.

- Oh, thank you!

- Thank you.

- Ah, Jim Bowie!

- Monsieur Jean!

- I heard you were in New Orleans!

Oh, go tell Mademoiselle Denise

Monsieur Bowie is calling on us!

Poor Denise, she has been so homesick.

To see someone from Opelousas,

oh, she will be delighted to see you!

- Ah, yes, well, as a matter of fact, I saw her yesterday.

- Oh?

She did not mention it, where was this?

- At my hotel.

She stopped by to see me.

- Uh-huh, and it is at her suggestion

that you have dropped by to see me, yeah?

- Well, I've been meanin' to anyway.

- Oh, Jim.

Why is it when a man becomes 70,

they cannot wait to bury him?

[laughing]

Ah, you know what she gave me for my birthday?

- No, what'd she give you?

- Ah, come here.

Here, I'll show you.

There, a rocking chair, eh?

They do not even wait for him to die,

they want to bury him out in his own back gallery.

[laughing]

They figure, if he is not dead already, he may as well be.

- [laughing] No, I can't agree with that, sir.

- Oh, I don't agree with it, either.

And I am not going to sit in a rocking chair,

waiting to die, oh, no.

Oh, I have not many more years left, that I know,

but I am going to make the best of the time that I do have.

And I have found someone who wants to help me.

- Did you tell Denise that?

- Oh, I have tried!

Jim, Denise devotes her life to me.

She has never married, she has no friends,

she has no interests, nothing but me.

And she smothers me with solicitude.

I do not want solace!

I want youth!

Have a cognac, eh?

- No, no thanks.

- No?

- I know that she means well.

- Oh, yes, no doubt she mean--

Jimmy, it grieves me to say this,

but her mother's brother was not--

It was very sad.

And these things run in families, Jim.

And I'm beginning to think that, oh yes,

I believe she is obsessed by her inheritance.

All these years, and now it comes out, eh?

Money.

My money.

And now she will not be the only heir.

Because I'm getting married, Jim.

- Yeah, she told me.

- Uh-huh, now that, that is what I mean, you see?

Going to you with our personal affairs.

- Monsieur Jean, I'm sure that she's only interested

in what's good for you.

Or, anyway, her idea of what's good for you.

- No, no, it is more than that.

It is much more.

No, I feel she, she has an idée fixe

that she will not like Ellen,

and I do not think she will stop at anything

to keep us apart.

Sometimes, I think she might even, no really,

the way she looks at Ellen, or she looks at me,

it frightens me.

- Just look!

Just in from Paris!

- Ah, it's very pretty!

- Isn't it chic? - Oh, whee, heh!

- Denise?

I bought this for you down on Royal Street.

I hope you like it.

It's a sachet, vetiver grass.

- Thank you.

So good of you to come, Monsieur Bowie.

And now, if you will excuse me, I have a headache.

- If you will excuse me for a moment, too.

This will be settled right now.

- Oh, no, Jean, it's of no matter.

- It matters to me.

- Mr. Bowie, um, you were a neighbor, weren't you,

to the Martels at, uh, Opelousas?

- Well, yes, I was.

- Mr. Bowie?

What should I do?

I don't want to break up a family, cause unhappiness.

I don't want Denise to hate me.

Why does she hate me?

I could be a good wife to Jean.

- Do you love him?

- I've asked myself the same thing a hundred times.

I don't believe I will ever love anyone again

quite the way I loved my late husband.

But I admire Jean Martel, I respect him.

I think he's the kindest, most wonderful man I've ever met.

Is this love?

I don't know.

- Miss Hill, I suppose you know that he's been speculatin'

in New Orleans real estate lately, don't ya?

- Yes, he's mentioned it.

- What would you say if I told you

that some of his speculations lately

have been very, uh, ill-advised?

And that he may even have to leave this house

and move back to Opelousas,

there living on a small plantation?

- Mr. Bowie, that's the best news I've heard

since I left Cincinnati.

Oh, I know it's selfish of me,

but at least that would prove my sincerity.

- Now, I didn't say that was the truth, you know.

I was just asking you what you'd say if I told you it was.

- Oh, I see.

You were testing me, weren't you?

Tell me, Mr. Bowie, did I pass?

- Well, now, Miss Hill, I was--

- Well, I'm not interested in your tests,

or whether I passed or not!

My conscience will be the guide to my conduct,

and not your tests!

And what gives you the right to test me in the first place?

- Well, nothin', I suppose,

except that Monsieur Martel is my friend.

Well, good day, Ma'am.

- Jim, surely you're not leaving so soon!

- Oh, I'll be back in a few days.

I don't want to lose touch with old friends.

Or with new ones, either.

Jean, I want to congratulate you.

You're a fortunate man.

- Indeed you are, Jean, to have such friends as Mr. Bowie.

- Good day, Jean.

- Au revoir, Jim, au revoir.

[door clicks shut]

- Monsieur Bowie?

One moment, please.

I will see Monsieur Bowie out.

Papa has just told me the wedding will be next Tuesday.

- Miss Denise, I think you're making a,

a big mistake about Miss Hill and your father.

Why shouldn't they get married?

I think you ought to do everything you can

to help make it a fine wedding.

- Do you think there will be a charivari?

- Oh, I wouldn't worry about that.

Your father's not too well-known around here.

I don't believe they'll bother him, do you?

- He will be hurt if, if he gets married

and everyone disregards it.

He speaks so fondly of the charivari in Lyons

when he married Mama.

- You mean you want him to have a charivari?

- I want Papa to be happy.

[musical humming]

- [Jim Voiceover] On Tuesday, my old friend Jean Martel

took my new friend, Miss Ellen Hill, as his wedded wife.

And I took it upon myself to whip up the rip-roarin'-est,

rootin'-tootin'-est shivaree ever seen hereabouts.

[explosions and cheering]

- Well, I guess by now they'll know we're here!

- Well, if they're gonna cheat us,

they better invite us in now before you blow the house down!

- No, no, it wouldn't be so much fun if they gave in easy!

- Look, someone's comin' out!

- Help, come quick!

There's been an accident!

Please hurry!

Please, hurry!

Hurry!

Mr. Bowie, in there!

It's Jean!

[humming music]

- He's dead.

[humming music]

- To me, it's pretty obvious.

There must've been 50 men out there

firin' toward the house one time or another.

Any one of 'em could've done it and not even know it.

- Not even know it?

- Sure, I almost put a shot in my own p*stol.

Absent-mindedly.

You get so you do that without even thinkin'.

Isn't that right, Jim?

- Yes, yeah, yes, I guess it is.

- A random, accidental shot out of the darkness

hits the victim squarely in the heart

and kills him instantly.

Isn't that hard to believe, Mr. Bowie?

- Constable, I don't know what to believe.

- Now, I know this is difficult, Madame Martel,

but just once again.

You were standing where when your husband was shot?

- There.

About there.

- And did you look out the door after he fell?

- No, sir.

- You didn't try to discover who had done this thing?

You weren't even curious?

- I didn't even know then that he'd been shot.

I just wanted to go and find help.

- Do you have any idea of your own

as to who might have shot him?

- No, sir.

- Thank you, Madame Martel.

- Mademoiselle Martel, just once more.

Where were you when your father was shot?

I have told you two times, I was in my room.

- And your room leads out onto the rear gallery, eh?

- Oui, Monsieur, with doors like these.

- Then you could've stepped out of your room

and come along the gallery?

You could have been standing out there

as your father came to the door and looked out, eh?

- Oui, Monsieur.

I could have been, but I was not.

- Your father was a man of considerable wealth, was he not?

- Oui, Monsieur.

- [Constable] You knew that he would probably

leave his new wife a large share of his estate.

- Oui, Monsieur, I knew it, and she knew it.

- But if he were m*rder*d,

and his new bride were convicted of that m*rder,

she would lose all claim to his estate, would she not?

In that case, everything would revert to the daughter.

- You are trying to accuse me

of the m*rder of my own father?

- No, Mademoiselle, I am trying to consider

all the possibilities.

- There is only one possibility!

- [Constable] If she had fired the shot,

the smell of gunpowder would have been in the room.

- There could have been an accomplice, outside!

- Yes, or you could have been outside,

without an accomplice.

And you were the one who wanted the charivari.

- Please, sir, may I say something?

- Please, Madame.

- It's true that Miss Denise was opposed

to my marriage to her father,

and I know that she's virtually accusing me of his m*rder,

but I also know that she loved her father very dearly.

It's inconceivable that she could even think of his death.

- You are wrong, Madame!

I did think of his death!

I thought it would be preferable to his marriage to you!

But I did not k*ll him.

And now, please, could we have an end to these questions!?

[humming music]

- [Jim Voiceover] The constables finally concluded

their investigation.

The next day, their report resulted in a verdict

of accidental death from a stray b*llet

fired during the charivari.

[humming music]

I took Ellen to the funeral,

and when we returned to the house,

she insisted that I stay for the reading of the will.

- I, Jean Martel, being of sound mind,

do hereby devise my last will and testament.

I bequeath to my only child, my daughter Denise,

the sum of one dollar.

To my surviving widow, Ellen,

I bequeath all of the balance of my estate,

including any and all things of value, real and personal,

and I specifically request that she, Ellen,

in her own good judgment, provide generously

for the support of my daughter.

These provisions of this will

being set forth in the hope that they may bind together

my widow and my daughter in love and affection

as long as they both survive.

Properly dated, witnessed, and signed Jean Martel.

- Denise, we'll make arrangements, won't we?

You'll have everything you'll ever want.

Everything your heart desires.

- I will not touch a penny of your money!

- But how will you live, dear?

It's what your father wanted.

- I shall starve first!

[humming music]

- [Jim Voiceover] It looked to me as if

that was just what she'd have to do,

starve or sell her few possessions.

About 10 days later, my suspicions proved correct.

- Now, look, Miss Denise, this is silly.

Let me lend you the money.

- Please, Monsieur Bowie.

- But Ellen has sold the house.

You're entitled to some of that money,

and you oughta get it right away!

She's leaving for Cincinnati tomorrow.

[humming music]

Well, just don't take Sam's first offer.

[humming music]

- But I said, don't sell it.

I told you I'd redeem it.

- [chuckles] I can't live on promises!

If you don't redeem it when the time is up...

- Naw, she'll k*ll me if I don't bring back that brooch.

- Look, the man that bought it

will run out of money soon, he'll bring it back,

then I'll sell it back to you!

- But we're leaving town tomorrow.

Oh, write this down.

You can send it to me when you find it.

Louis Colt, care of the Postmaster,

Cincinnati, Ohio.

- Sam, you take care of this lady,

and call her a carriage when she's finished, you understand?

And if you don't treat her right, you'll square with me.

- [Jim Voiceover] I trailed Mr. Louis Colt

the rest of the day, until he finally led me

to the Martel house.

Somehow, unhappily, I half-suspected

that was where he would lead me.

Could I have been wrong about Ellen?

No, it wasn't possible.

But where had our eavesdropper suddenly got hold

of the money to get his possessions out of pawn?

And what was he to Ellen?

I had to find out.

[humming music]

- [Ellen] Where's the brooch?

- [Louis] It was sold.

- [Ellen] Sold?

Those were real diamonds!

- [Louis] You'll get it back.

I gave him our address.

- I told you not to pawn in the first place,

you stupid idiot.

- Idiot, am I?

I'm also a m*rder*r, and you an accomplice,

and don't you forget it!

- Oh, why, Mr. Bowie, how nice.

Um, this is my brother, Louis Colt.

Louis, this is Jim Bowie, a friend of Jean's.

Louis has come to help me.

- Yeah, we've met.

[slap]

I didn't like him then, and I like him less now.

[knife thunk]

- Ah!

- Ha!

- k*ll him, Louis!

[vase breaking]

[swords clashing]

Stop playing, k*ll him!

- A little trick I learned from my fencing master

in Exchange Alley.

[crash]

Hey!

Argh!

- A little trick I learned from my mother,

handling hot irons!

[humming music]

All right, Mr. Colt.

All right, Miss Sincerity.

I've often heard the pen is mightier than the sword,

now you pick up that one!

And you'll write a confession if you want him to live!

- Ellen, yes, please!

[humming music]

- Tell me, was Ellen Hill

able to make any trouble for Miss Denise?

I mean, claiming part of the estate under the will

as the surviving widow?

- No, Monsieur.

You see, this Louis Colt was not her brother.

He was her husband.

- So she was never really married to Papa at all!

- Well, the only explanation I can offer, Miss Denise,

is, as you said right along, most men are such fools

where a beautiful woman is concerned.

- But where would the world be without beautiful women?

- You mean, you two, uh--?

- Oui, Monsieur.

- Well, dog my cats!

[laughing]

Congratulations!

- Thank you, sir.

- And would it be asking too much

for you to arrange a charivari?

- Yes, Ma-- uh, I mean, no, Ma'am!

[laughter]

[clashing and singing]

♪ Jim Bowie, Jim Bowie

♪ He was a fighter, a fearless and mighty adventurin' man ♪