01x04 - The Murdering Class

[bunniefuu]

[theme music playing]

Starring Buddy Ebsen.

Also starring Lee Meriwether.

With guest stars:

Geraldine Brooks,

Jerry Houser,

Andrew Parks.

[overlapping chatter
and laughter]

WOMAN:
Hey, fellas, come on, now.

Come on. You're supposed
to be seniors.

Stop horsing around.

We'll never get
finished in here.

Lot of tables still
need chairs, you know.

Oh, put Mrs. Ogden next
to the minister.

Maybe he can shame her

into buying some tickets
for the tennis fund.

I certainly couldn't

even though I am headmistress.

Don't forget those flowers.

Tomorrow morning
first thing, hear?

Oh, Janet?

Yes?

Your brother.

Thanks, Victor.

George.
Hi.

Looks very nice.
Oh, hope so.

Oh, I found ten of these
medieval histories you wanted.

Now, if you need anymore, I-I...

George, those are very
heavy, and ten is fine.

But why don't you get one
of the boys to help you?

Oh, no, no.

They have their job
and I have mine.

I think I've been sober long
enough to carry my own weight

and ten medieval histories.

George?

Thank you.

I'll put them in the office.

Right.

[background chatter]

Ladies and gentlemen.

I think we've done about
all we can for tonight.

And, um, some of you have
some midterm exams

to study for.

Thank you.

[clattering]

Paul.

What are you doing here?

Boy, boy, you gave me
a scare, Mr. Enright,

What are you doing here, Paul?

Come on out.

Come on.

Well, I'm, I'm working
student desk this week.

I-I-I came back

'cause...'cause
I left a book.

I-I-I'm cramming for exams,
so I gotta go.

You opened the private file,
didn't you, Paul?

Where'd you learn
the combination?

I didn't take
the money!
All right,
please, Paul.

I think we'd better go
talk to my sister

I didn't take anything,
Mr. Enright.
about this right now.

Paul! Paul!
I didn't take anything!

Charles...

What's the rush?

You got it,
didn't you?
Charles, listen.

George Enright caught me at it.

It's awful. We gotta get help.

Haste makes waste, Paul.

Now, tell me again, without
the emotional embellishment.

I didn't mean to.

Tell me, Paul.

What's awful?

I... I think I k*lled him.

You think?

You know, if you're ever
gonna be a newspaperman,

always make sure of the facts.

Come on.

Back to the scene of the crime.

Well, Paul...

this makes you the first
m*rder*r I've ever known.

[crying]

I'm gonna call the police.

Operator...

Your mouth is dry, dear boy.

The adrenaline is
short-circuiting
your brain,

and you'll botch everything.

The police, bumbling
as they are,

will ask questions.

"What were you doing
there, Paul Thayer?

"And your buddy, your
pal, Charles Lomax...

What brought him to the
headmistress's office?"

Do you want to tell
them all that, Paul?

What are we gonna do?

Hang in there, Paul.

You take the head.

I'll take the feet.

Come on, Paul.

He won't bite you.

[boys grunting]

[car passing by]

Bottle.

[crickets chirping]

Let that be a lesson to you.

That's what happens
to alcoholics

who can't stay away
from their booze.
[cries]

They get into all kinds
of terrible accidents.

Sometimes fatal.

MINISTER:
"And there shall be no night
there.

"And they need no candle.

"Neither light of the sun.

"For the Lord God
giveth him light

"and they shall reign
forever and ever.

"And He said unto me, 'These
things are faithful and true."

"'And the Lord God of the Holy
Prophet sent His angel

"'to show unto His servants
the things which must be true.

"'Behold, I come quickly.

"'Blessed is he
that keepeth the sayings

of the prophecy of this book.'"

Amen.

If there's anything I can do,
would you let me know, Janet?

Oh, of course, Ron.
Thank you.

Okay.
Thank you.

[shutter clicks]

Well...

Are you all right, Janet?

Oh, I'm fine.
Thank you.

It was a lovely service.

I appreciate it.
I'll call
on you later.

All right.
Sure, now?

Go on. Get out of here.
I'm fine.

Barnaby Jones?

Yes, Miss Enright.

You, uh, have my
sympathy, Miss Enright.

I didn't know if I
should come now or...

I'm glad you did.

I want my brother's name
cleared,

whatever it may cost.

Just as I was driving
through town,

I stopped and had a talk
with, uh, Lieutenant Roth.

And did he convince you
that George stole that money?

Well, let's say he, uh,

he made a good start.

Mr. Jones,

Lieutenant Roth didn't
know my brother.

I'd like to tell you about him.

This was George.

[sniffling]

He loved books.

When we agreed that I take
control of the school,

he insisted on earning
his keep, as he put it,

by staying on as our librarian.

Am I right...

In your statement to
the police, you said

that you brother gave up
drinking about eight months ago?

Yes.

As soon as I'd officially
taken over the school.

I assumed that he just
no longer needed whiskey

as an escape
from responsibility.

What do you figure set him off
drinking that night?

I don't know how George
got to the cliff.

I don't know how the
whiskey got on him.

I don't know how the money

from the tennis fund
got into his pockets.

I only know one thing:

My brother...

He didn't need to steal.

Look, look,

this shelf here.

All first editions.

This set of, uh,
Longfellow alone.

It's worth thousands.

If my brother wanted money,

for liquor or anything else,

he could've sold it.

Was the man who lived here
a thief?

This is called doubles, Lomax.

Now, in doubles, you let
your partner hit the ball

when it comes into his side
of the court.

Okay?

Oh, good Lord.

Midyear finals here
all next week

and then the SATs.

Then the University
of California stuff.

What difference does it make?

You're gonna flunk
'em all anyway.

Everything under control, Eddie?

Paul?
Yeah, no sweat,
ma'am.

Here.

Mr. Cater, please,
you take this booklet

and you read it carefully
at your leisure

and if you have any questions,
any questions whatsoever,

you don't hesitate to ask
anyone in this office.

Okay?

Oh, Paul, we'll need, uh...

Oh, Janet.

I didn't think
you'd be in today.

Why, I can handle anything
that comes up.

No, I really want to, Victor.

Uh, this is Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones, this is our college
counselor, Victor Sterne.

How do you
do, sir?
How do you do,
Mr. Sterne?

JANET: As you know,
I wasn't satisfied

with Lieutenant Roth's reports,

and so I've asked Mr. Jones
to come from Los Angeles

to make some further
investigations for me.

If he needs anything, I know

you'll give him
all the help you can.

Of course, Mr. Jones,
anything I can do.

Thank you, Mr. Sterne.

Paul, I'll need 50 copies
of this college requirement.

Uh, yes, sir, 50
copies, right away.

Game.

Set.

Match.

[bell ringing]
Nice going, guys.

Ross, I want to show you

why that second serve of yours
isn't working.

Okay?
Okay.

Lomax...

now, maybe you got
the rest of the school conned

into thinking that you're the
greatest since sliced bread,

but on the tennis court,

you're nothing
but a second-rate grandstander.

Lucky idiots.

We can beat them
any four out of five sets.

Yeah, if you'd let your
partner play, Lomax.

When I draw
a lousy partner, Whitney,

I have to try to carry him.

Big deal.

Charles, I got to talk to you.

Only one autograph
per customer, please.

Did you hear that
"grandstander" crack?

Boy, you give a guy like Fannon

a little authority
and he turns into a...

Listen, we're in trouble.

The official verdict was

accidental death
while intoxicated.

Official.

Yeah, well, you know that guy

who came in late
to the cemetery?

He's a private detective
from L.A. that Enright hired.

How do you know?

'Cause I keep my big
ears open, that's how.

He's up in her office right now
going over the whole thing.

I'm telling you,
he's gonna find out.

He won't have time to find out,
not if we handle it right.

You've handled it so far,

and we're going down the drain.

No, Paul, neither of us
is going down the drain

nor down the tube
nor up the creek.

A little spice has been added
to the brew, that's all.

It was an accident.

I'm going to tell.

You are not going
to burn yourself

and you are not going
to burn me.

Do you understand?

Then what are we gonna do?

We have to make sure that our
tall, straight, gray-haired

private investigator
from lotusland

finds his criminal, don't we?

And clears the blot
from the Enright escutcheon.

But how?

We have to throw a little light

on the [bleep] in the woodpile.

I was thinking that
it's inconceivable

that Paul Thayer,

class vice president,
honor student, et cetera,

is the type of young man who
goes around robbing people

and k*lling them
in fits of temper.

But he is.

Full of psychological hang-ups,

understandably uptight
about his position.

Yes... I'm afraid Mr.
Fannon k*lled old George.

A strong, powerful man
with a hot temper.

He's liable to do anything,
even m*rder.

[bell rings]

Hello.

Hello.

Mr. Jones,
I'm, uh, Paul Thayer.

This is Charles Lomax.

Oh, how do you do?

How do you do, sir?

Thayer.

Lomax... yeah,
I've been reading about you.

You are, uh, president
of the senior class,

editor of the paper...
A lot of school activities.

I'm from the
east, Mr. Jones.

I learned to stuff ballot
boxes at my father's knee.

[all laugh]

Is there anything we
can do to help, sir?

Well, I, uh...

Yeah, yeah, there might be,

especially since you're
on the paper.

Any idea how this flashbulb
got in the closet?

I can't imagine, sir.

Why, Paul, this is
the size you use.

You must have dropped it.

Me? How could
I have dropped...?

Our layout on George
Enright, remember?

You took three or
four shots up here.

Oh, oh, yeah, yeah, sure.

I-I guess it's mine.

I'm always losing them,
you know.

Oh.

Do you have any offices

besides Los
Angeles, Mr. Jones,

working with other
private investigators?

[laughs]

You know, that's as good a
loaded question as I ever heard.

Three pieces of
information at
one crack.

Where did you hear
that I was...?

Well, of course,
all good newspapermen know

what's going on around them,
don't they?

You are investigating
Mr. Enright's m*rder,
aren't you?

The inquest didn't seem to find

any reason for assuming m*rder.

Did you discuss
your theory with
anyone else

at the time of the inquest?

No.

Then I wasn't sure

of my ground...

but I'm very sure of it now,

and there's a lot more

than meets the eye

in this whole tragic

mess, Mr. Jones.

A witness talked to Charles.

And when I was going back
to the dorm from the auditorium,



I saw somebody go
in the administration building.

That's where Miss Enright's
office is, you know.

Recognize him, Willie?

Not exactly.

It was too far away.

A man definitely.

Just a guy, medium-build.

Well, that's not
very much to go on.

I-I thought it one
of those borderline facts, too,

but possibly enough to have
the verdict questioned.

Yeah, well, as I say,

that's not very much,
but, uh, you never know.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

Good luck on those exams.

Did I do all right?

Not bad at all.

Bit of the hook,
bit of the line,

next the sinker.

But I don't get it.

Why didn't you want me
to give him the name?

It's been almost a week,
you idiot.

You can't wait all this time
and then up and say,

"Oh, by the way,
I forgot to mention it,

"but I happened to see
Ron Fannon the tennis whiz

up there with old George
the night he was totaled."

Police are like turkeys
in November.

Start feeding them a bunch of
garbage, they get suspicious.

Now, Paul,
got your checkbook handy?

My checkbook?

Write out a check for $100.

Payable
to the tennis committee fund.

Let's see, today's the 17th.

Old George died the 14th.

Date it two days
before that... the 12th.

What's the idea?

Just do it, Paul.

What'd you have me write it for

if you're just going to burn it?

You've got to feed them
their clues bit by bit.

[blowing]

That way,
they'll swallow it all.

[crickets chirping]
[digging]

[grunting]

Men, I have some good news
and some bad news.

First the good news:
You've dug far enough.

Now the bad news:

Open it.

It's getting late.

Open the coffin.

How about that, Paul?

He's smiling at you.

Who's going to do it?

Why, you.

You're responsible
for the poor man's demise.

It's the least you can do.

Gently.

I think we're ready
for the final touches.

Mr. Fannon himself.

[car door closes]

[car engine starts]

What's all that, Miss Enright?

They arrested Ron Fannon
for murdering George.

What?

Lieutenant Roth said that George

must have surprised him
while he was trying

to break into the cabinet.

He k*lled George.

Then he tried to make it look
like an accident.

That's a mighty far cry
from that first verdict.

That first verdict
was death while intoxicated.

George couldn't have been drunk.

Uh, let's see...
The boy is first.

Fannon's with his
lawyer right now.

He goes before Judge Perry
for arraignment at 4:00.

Things are moving pretty fast,
aren't they, Hank?

[door opening]

Hello, Mr. Jones.

They bringing you in
on this officially?

I understand you three
have had a busy day.

Look, you, uh, understand

why we couldn't bring everything
to you first?

Perfectly, but, uh,

Lieutenant Roth and I aren't
in competition for a prize.

We're both in the same business.

Yeah.

Same business, different pay.

[laughing]
[laughing]

JONES:
Lieutenant's been
telling me that, uh,

you boys have been poking
around down below the cliff,

and you came up
with some new evidence.

Uh, Charles found it.

Near... near where
they found the body.

A Wimbledon button.

I've heard of Wimbledon tennis,

but, uh, what's
a Wimbledon button?

This, Barnaby.

It's, uh,
like an Olympic button.

And this is his
official Wimbledon blazer

we found in his closet.

BARNABY: Oh.

Well, you were lucky to find it.

Oh, yes, sir.

Uh, we... we thought the police
might have overlooked something

when they searched the area
originally.

And-and-and we all know

how understaffed
this office is, so...

So, with the button, plus

what Grand here told us,

I got a search warrant,

and it paid off.

Made out by Paul Thayer
to the Tennis Committee Fund.

We found it in a pile of ashes
in Fannon's fireplace.

I thought all the loot
was on, uh, Enright.

Well, when Fannon

suddenly found himself

mixed up in a m*rder,

he planted everything on Enright

to make it look
like an accident.

ROTH: He overlooked that

and burned it when he got home.

Well... pretty dumb
not to have made sure

it burned completely.

Well, maybe, but I'm not about

to look a gift horse

in the mouth, Barnaby.

Especially if he's dumb enough

to leave the
m*rder weapon around.

A weapon?

Mm-hmm.

Well, Hank...

looks like you've got this
whole thing wrapped up.

Found that in his cellar.

These hairs were stuck
in a switch.

They were caught there after
he caved in Enright's skull,

after Enright
caught him stealing.

The medical examiner
confirmed, of course?

Mm-hmm. They checked against

those from the autopsy.

The victim's hair definitely.

Well, looks like I've only got
one question to ask you all.

When is the hanging?

Well, I don't need
a private eye.

I need a lawyer.

I'm not looking for a fee,
Mr. Fannon.

I have permission
to talk to you,

uh, if you want to talk to me.

How about it?

You can't help me a bit.

Somebody's got me in a box,

and they want to keep me here.

No, I don't want to
talk to you, Jones.

Now, damn it, would
you leave me alone?!

I know you're mad, Mr. Fannon.

I don't blame you.

I just don't believe
you're as stupid

as Lieutenant Roth
must think you are.

The case they got against you
is, uh, pretty convincing.

If people want to believe

you pulled a dozen dumb moves
in the space of an hour.

Okay, let him in.

Now, what's in all this for you?

Well, I got myself
right in the middle

of something
I sure didn't expect.

All of a sudden, funny questions

started getting funny answers.

I don't know quite how
to explain this to you, but...

there's something sticking
way inside of me here.

I don't know if that's my craw
or my gullet or what,

but, anyway, there's something
sticking in there

and I want to get it unstuck,
that's all.

Yeah, well, I got a
bellyful of my own, too.

Well, let's start
spitting them out.

Do you know, uh, what Roth
is counting on... all of it?

Well, there's the flashlight,
there's Mr. Enright's hair,

there's the blazer button,
the tennis fund check,

the fact that I knew that there

was a couple of thousand
dollars in the safe.

That's a pretty neat package.

Yeah, but to begin with, I don't
even know the combination.

The beauty
of circumstantial evidence

is that nobody has to prove

how you got
into the filing cabinet...

Only that it's obvious
you did it.

That's about as logical
as Willie Grand saying

he saw someone who
looked like Mr. Fannon

about the time that
Mr. Enright was k*lled.

And what do you say to that?

Well, now, death was
supposed to have been

about, uh, 10:30, right?

Give or take a few minutes.

Did you ask Janet Enright
where she was about then?

Why?

She's my alibi,
Mr. Jones.

She was with me.

Ask your client.

I've been telling George
that he can rest easy now.

[sniffles]

He's been exonerated.

An arrest isn't exactly
a conviction, you know.

Mr. Fannon tells
me that, uh,

when you left the
auditorium that night,

you and he talked
about the tournament

until he left you at your door.

That's true.

And you left
a little after 10:00.

Yeah, I think so.

Well, it's, uh, about 15 minutes

from the auditorium
to Windom House.

I walked it today.

And another 15 minutes back
to the administration building.

Let's say a few minutes
for talk.

Uh, that's about 45 minutes,
right?

Mr. Jones, the authorities
have gone into all of this.

They have proof
of what Mr. Fannon did.

It's not proof
if Mr. Fannon couldn't be there.

Now, I am practically convinced

that he couldn't have
taken you to your door,

gotten back to your offices,

gotten up and struggled
with your brother,

and had death occur at the time
the coroner said it did.

I... I'm sorry, but I...

it's really out of my hands.

And I must go.

Miss Enright.

Very little honor will accrue
to your brother's name

if it's done at the expense
of an innocent man.

Of course not.

But how can anyone be sure
of how long we were talking?

Or of how fast we walked?

You brought up time
and... and the clock.

No one has suggested that
Mr. Fannon, who is an athlete,

might well have run back
across campus.

If you run to a place
you intend to rob,

witnesses are inclined
to remember it.

Mr. Jones, you and I...

we both believe in logic.

Yes, Miss Enright, that we do.

All right.

What motive
could there have been

for this crime except money?

Ron Fannon was in my office,
trying to steal $2,000.

Now, it was money
that he knew was there,

because he had given it to me.

There is no other motive.

And now you must excuse me.

I have a million things to do.

[machine whirring]

Good afternoon.

Oh, good afternoon.

You certainly keep things
pretty around here.

Well, thank you very much.

How often do you water
this time of year?

Oh, I usually
turn the sprinklers on

about evening this time
of the year

for about an hour,
hour and a half.

You'd think

that earth would have
settled more, wouldn't you?

[whirring]

I know that some of you
are not going to be happy

with these exam schedules,
but I've done the fairest I can.

Some of you will have two finals
in one day.

It can't be helped.

Excuse me.

Oh, man.
Boy...

Good afternoon, sir.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon,
Mr. Sterne.

Well, that's quite a job

of detective work you
young fellows did.

Oh, well, Charles deserves
all the credit, sir.

No, it was a real collaboration.

Like a copy
of the Gazette,
Mr. Jones?

Thank you.

Is Miss Enright
expecting you, Mr. Jones?

Well, I'd like to talk to her

if, uh, she isn't too busy.

Janet?

Mr. Jones is
in the outer office.

How's the case coming?

Oh, uh, Judge Perry
has set Monday

for the preliminary hearing.

[door opens]
No bail.

Mr. Jones.

Miss Enright, I've been thinking

what you said about a motive.

Now, what if there was something
else inside that filing cabinet

that someone wanted
more than money?

Here is a check
for your services.

I think you will find it
more than satisfactory.

Well, I'll be glad to take it

when I feel that I've
followed through, but

right now, if you don't mind,
I'd like to have one more look

at what's inside that cabinet,

and a chance to ask you
a few more questions.

I'm afraid I'll have to say no.

Our school has had more
than its share of scandal.

I see no point
in raking around a problem

that the police
have already solved.

At least to my satisfaction.

To put it bluntly,

your services
are no longer required.

[whispers]:
Hey

I feel just like a conspirator,

and I can't say I like it.

Let's go in here.

[folder opens, papers rustling]

Yep, more of the same.

All three of them...
Charles Lomax,

Paul Thayer, William Grand...

All came to Enright
with poor or failing grades.

Then sometime
in the second semester,

their grades shot up to "A,"
even, uh, straight "A's."

Spectacular.
Not all that unusual.

Especially when boys decide
to knuckle down to work.

Now when some students come
to a demanding prep school,

Mr. Jones,
they learn to test better.

Or when they happen to know

the answers
to the exams beforehand.

I thought it would shock you
when I said that.

I don't know
what you're getting at.

All these final exams,
questions and answers,

were they always kept
in that one filing cabinet

with the combination lock?

Yes. As long as I've been...

Then it wasn't the money
the thief was after.

It was the answers
to the exam questions.

Mm-hmm.

And you think somebody
besides Mr. Fannon
was the one?

That would explain a lot.

Cheating during
an exam is one thing.

It's bad enough.

Why, I can't believe
this, Mr. Jones.

How much longer are
these exams gonna last today?

What? Oh...


This is the last one.

And when will
they know the results?

They're tabbed by computer.

They'll be posted on the
bulletin boards by 4:30.

Shh!
[footsteps approaching]

[whispers]:
Mr. Jones, come here.

I must get back.

And you shouldn't
be here either.

One more favor.
It's important.

I want you to fail Charles Lomax
and Willie Grand

but not Paul Thayer.

Why, I have no right
to tamper with any grades.

Their entire futures
depend on these tests.

Maybe Ron Fannon's does, too.

What good would it do?

Suppose one made the usual


but the other two didn't?

Then it would be obvious that
the guy who made the high grades

had pulled a fast one
on his buddies.

And if that happens,
we might see some fireworks.

Well, Charles is
the ringleader, Mr. Jones.

Shouldn't he be the one
to get the best marks?

No. He's the "ringleader,"
as you say,

because he's smart enough
not to do the dirty work.

He gets stooges to do that.

And Paul Thayer is
exactly the type

that Charles would pick.

Hey, I passed!

Way to go!

How are you supposed
to remember all those
dumb dates?

I thought you'd
be gone by now, Mr. Jones.

If I'm trespassing, I apologize.

But as I told you, I wanted
to get to the bottom of this.

"Get at the truth"
is what I said.

I would certainly
think you would, too.

Yes, you told me
what you assume.

I'd like to know
how you expect to prove it.

Out of the mouths
of babes, I hope.

Victor, I'd like
to see you for a minute.

[satisfied chuckle]

How did you do, fellas?

We aced it.

Two 98s and a 99.

[door opens]

Very fair test,
Mr. Sterne.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jones.

I just couldn't do it.

I couldn't cheat like that.

I just couldn't take the chance.

A promise is a promise, Willie.

Yeah, no kidding.

Hey, you know,
with finals like these,

we can get
into any college we want.

We can make it to Stanford.

I was promised a smashing
Italian convertible,

and I certainly
can't ride around

with the top down
all year at Harvard.

BARNABY:
How are you riding
around on that road

down by the cliff where, uh,
George Enright's body was found?

Miss Enright told all of us
on student desk duty

you didn't have
permission to be on school
property, Mr. Jones.

Want to call a cop?

Uh, uh, actually, we all,

we all have something
to do and...

You have nowhere to go, Paul.

Thanks, Lomax.

I like your style.

You see a problem,
you want to meet it head-on.

You know,

I love the old philosopher
"aw, shucks" bit

you use on people, Jones.

But why don't we get down
to the nitty-gritty?

Suits me fine.

Except that, uh, this doesn't

exactly concern you
that personally, Lomax.

Uh, I wanted

to talk to Thayer here,

but you can go if you want to.
No! I...

I'm, I mean, well...

Well... why not?

You're all for one,
one for all anyway, aren't you?

This, uh, is just yours, Paul,

and, uh... I don't see how

anyone else could
even know about it.

It's a
photostatic
copy of your check

that was found
in Fannon's
fireplace.

The number 1007
written on the 12th.

That's two days
before Mr. Enright died.

I can't figure how come
three days later on the 15th,

you wrote two checks...
One numbered 1006 and one 1005,

earlier numbers.

Something fishy about the date.

Well, well, it could happen.

I mean, if I wrote it out
of order, it could happen.

But you didn't write them out
of order, did you, Paul?

BARNABY: You dated it three days
before you wrote it, didn't you?

Yes.

LOMAX:
His bank wouldn't give out
that kind of information.

What did you do, Jones,
bribe some stupid clerk?

No. I just took
a shot in the dark,

and Paul gave me the answer.

Something else kind of funny.

This, uh, Gazette
you gave me the other day...

What about it?

Well, uh, Paul,

this picture you took
of the people at the funeral,

take a look at it.

Seem a little unusual to you?

Particularly Fannon.

No.

Well, it's kind of small,
so I made an enlargement.

See, uh, all the buttons
are on the Wimbledon jacket.

How do you figure?

Let me see that.

No, uh... Paul,
you tell me.

How could all the buttons
be on the jacket

when one of them was lost
three days ago at the cliff?

Fannon simply sewed on
a new button.

After the m*rder.

And tore it off days later

when the police
searched his apartment?

Does that seem right, Paul?

He sewed it on badly, I suppose.

Look, I-I

really got to call my family.

I promised them...
All right, but wait, Willie.

Now...

about George Enright's coffin.

The people at the cemetery
are absolutely mystified.

They can't figure

how bits of earth got
inside the coffin.

You see, it was sealed
at the funeral home.

Yesterday, I got a court order
to dig it up,

and we found dirt,

dirt from the cemetery

inside the coffin.

So somebody must've
opened it, right?

Opened it after the burial.

H-How could anybody do that?

Have you got any ideas, Paul?

[cries]:
I don't know.

Come on, tell us what
really happened, Paul.

Please, Mr. Jones,
it was an accident
that night, it was!

Keep your mouth shut,
you stupid idiot!

Please, you've got
to believe me.

I didn't mean to k*ll him.
It was an accident.

I told you we should've
called the police.

You should've let me.

I'll do that for you now, Paul.

Can't you take the pressure?

Can't you keep any cool at all?

Everything was working perfect

Everything has worked perfect
for years, damn it!

And in five minutes,

you blow everything
I've set up for you.

Uh, get me the sheriff's
office, please.

BARNABY:
Lieutenant Roth
if he's on duty.

Yeah, me.

Damn it, me.

They'd be nowhere without me.

You know who figured out

how to get those examinations?

I did.

Three years ago.

I broke that combination.

You know how?

I used my brain.

I figured it out.

You know, I-I-I knew that,

it'd have to be
something simple.

Something right in front
of everyone's nose.

Janet Enright's birthday.

June 18, 1932.

Six... 18.



She's not 38
like she tells everyone.

She's 40 years old.

Born in 1932.





And you ruined...

everything!

Thank heaven he's all right now.

I was so anxious
to clear my brother

that I let myself be
blind to everything
and everyone.

And those boys...

Where did I go wrong?

Where do we all go wrong?

Find problems like this
in the slums or the ghetto

you're not surprised, but...

It happens in the best
of families?

Even here...

where they have
all the advantages.

Well, there's a lot to do.

Thank you, Mr. Jones.

Good-bye, Miss Enright.

[car engine starting]

[theme music playing]