05x03 - The Case of the Missing Melody

[bunniefuu]

(theme music playing)

(jazz guitar playing)

(guitar, bass and drums playing)

Hello, Mr. Courtland.

Afternoon, Perry;
Miss Street.

Aren't you lucky to have
such a beautiful day

for your
daughter's wedding?

Perhaps.

Doesn't seem too
happy about it.

Who was that
with him?

It's his secretary;
her name's Markham.

Hi, Mr. Mason, Miss Street.

Oh!
What are you doing here?

Della, you remember
David Gideon, don't you?

Oh, yes, the eager
young law student

who was going to study
in our office library.

Oh, I'm still going to,
Miss Street.
Oh.

But right now, I'm a friend
of the bride's sister Midge.

Mind if I sit with you?

No; I see no reason
why you shouldn't.

Isn't it rather odd to hear
music like that in a church?

Well, they're Eddie King's
own men, and besides,

more and more churches
are allowing modern music.

Just listen to the
radio on Sunday.

Well, Polly, little sister
was right, as usual.

Dad's here...

looking more
like a pallbearer

than a wedding guest,
but he is definitely here.

I'm glad.

Well, he's the one
that should be glad,

having a nice guy
in the family like Eddie King.

You sure you
got that ring?

Naturally, baby,
right here on my pinky.

For gosh sakes,
don't lose it.

I do and you'd get yourself
a new boy, like Jack Costanzo.

(chuckles)

Shall we join the cats
in the main ballroom?

Stop trying to sound
like a bongo player.

Here, you're on this side.

(band plays mellow jazz version
of the Wedding March)

Oh, no, no, no!

Polly!

I'm sorry you took the time
to write a brief, David.

In my opinion, this is a
perfect case of caveat emptor.

Your theoretical client
would have no reason

to sue anyone
but himself.

I think you'd better read the
problem over again carefully.

Yes, Della?

Eddie King is here.
He says he has to see you.

Have him come in.

Eddie.

Come in, Eddie.

Hi, Eddie.

Oh, hello, David.

Weren't you planning
to reread that problem?

Oh, yes.

Be seeing you.
Right.

(door opens)
Mr. Mason,

(door closes)
you probably
disapprove of me

as a husband for Polly as
much as Mr. Courtland does,

but I don't know
where else to turn.

Sit down, Eddie.

Thank you.

Let me say now, I don't
disapprove of you one bit.

I happen to like jazz--

everything from
Jelly Roll Morton

to you and Dave Brubeck.

Well, thank you.

Tell me, what do you mean

when you say you don't know
where else to turn?

Well, because of what happened
this morning.

I've got to see Polly--

to find out
why she did what she did--

but I can't get in her house.

And when I phone her,
she won't explain.

She just bursts into tears
and hangs up on me.

I've got to know, Mr. Mason--

what went wrong;
what I did.

And you want me to find out?

Well, you're a friend
of the family.

You've known Polly
since she was a little girl.

If it's a question of a fee,

I'll pay
anything you ask.

No, there wouldn't be a fee.

Hi.

I was just about to
look you up, Polly.

I've got some
great news.

Dad's taking us to
a European jaunt--

France, Italy,
the works.

What's in the glass,
Midge?

Soda water.

All right,
it's a drink.

But haven't I got
a right to one,

after what we've
been through today?

Just what have
you been through?

I suppose I had
that coming.

But I didn't ask you to
run up that aisle, did I?

I didn't do it
for you.

You didn't?

How do you think
those two pictures and a story

in one of the confidential
magazines would affect Dad?

"Noted reformer's
subdeb daughter

"registers at a Las Vegas motel

with famous jazz artist
Bongo White."

We didn't stay
there, Polly.

I told you that.

We only went there
to freshen up.

And as for
registering together,

well, it was
just a joke.

Do you think anyone's
going to believe that?

I wouldn't know!

What do you know
about this?

Girls, gambling, gangsters--

and Miss Midge Courtland
of the Bel Air Courtlands.

It was only a party at
Jack Grabba's suite.

It didn't even once occur
to you that Jack Grabba

is reputed to be
one of the heads

of the gambling syndicate
here in Southern California,

and as such,
is an enemy of Dad's?

But what I want to know is:
who took these pictures

and how did George Sherwin
get ahold of them?

I don't know.

All he told me was
that he was going

to turn them over
to a publisher if...

I married Eddie.

But you told me this morning
that he was only bluffing.

I thought he was, but then
I saw him start to hand

an envelope to some man
with him in church.

I couldn't let him
do that to Dad.

The scandal would k*ll him.

Well, wha-what
can we do, Polly?

First, I'm going to find out
what George Sherwin wants.

I've been trying
to call him all afternoon.

Well, it certainly
can't be money.

After all, he's a
successful composer.

And what about Eddie?

Ooh, I can't think
what to do.

Uh, I can't tell him
about this.

That was one of
George Sherwin's conditions.

Uh, what is it,
Miss Markham?

Polly, your father
would like to see you.

He's in the living room
with Mr. Mason.

Mr. Mason?

You leave those alone.

I'm sorry.

I thought Polly
had left them behind.

They're mine.

I did oppose
the marriage, Perry.

Polly's too fine a person
to waste herself

on some h*nky-
tonk piano player.

But I was not the cause
of her running like that.

Come in, Polly.

Hello,
Mr. Mason.

Hello, Polly.

Polly, Eddie King
came to see me.

He's a very
unhappy man.

I know.

Well, don't you think you owe
him some sort of explanation?

I tried, but, uh...

MASON:
Polly, are you in
some kind of trouble?

Is that
what's wrong?

POLLY:
Oh, no, it isn't that.

Then what was it, Polly--
my opposition?

Um, no, it was,
um... everything.

You know, all
those warnings

about marrying
jazz musicians--

no home unless
you call, uh,

you call third-
rate hotel bedrooms

and, and smoky
nightclubs home;

and crazy, mixed-up people
for friends.

It never quite
got through to me until, uh,

I saw Eddie's combo
at the church

and they were playing
the Wedding March.

Suddenly, I couldn't go
through with it.

Please tell Eddie I'm sorry...

...sorrier than I've ever been
about anything in my life.

Polly... Polly!

Her explanation sounds
perfectly reasonable--

just what I've
been saying.

I happen to know
that Eddie King nets

close to $ , a year
from recordings and play dates.

He hardly ever appears
in smoky nightclubs

and never stays
in third-rate hotels.

As a matter of fact,
he has a very comfortable home

with a swimming pool
in the San Fernando Valley.

And what Polly said,
she just made up?

It would appear so.

* The nights *

* Are cold *

* For love *

* Is old *

* Love was grand
when love was new *

* Birds were singing,
the skies were blue *

* Now it won't appeal to you *

* The thrill is gone *

* This is the end *

* So why pretend? *

* And let *

* It linger... on *

* The thrill is... *

* Gone. *

(song ends)

Well, Mr. Leader,
how say you?

Jonny, you make
that last note

just hang there
like an iridescent bubble.

You say
the wildest things, baby.

JONNY:
(chuckles) Excuse me.

"Iridescent"-- that's
a big word, Bongo.

Eddie's got a big education.

Oh, you guys
leave Eddie alone.

How about a run-through
on "The Man I Love"?

(phone rings)
Okay.

Well, don't if you don't
feel like it, Eddie.

It's a wonder you're here
at all, after this morning.

It's better than talking
to a blank wall.

Mr. King, telephone.

Who is it?

A Mr. Mason.

Thanks.

Eddie King, Mr. Mason.

Did you talk
to her?

Who at the wedding?

No, I didn't notice her looking
at anybody but me.

Yeah, I know George Sherwin.

He's a composer.

No, I'll take care
of this myself.

Thanks.

Bongo...

Bongo, can I see you
for a minute?

(piano playing jaunty tune)

(music stops)

Now, will you please
stop and listen to me?

Enid, my dear, you're
being a bit of a bore.

Would you rather
listen to me

or one of Jack Grabba's
gorillas?

Grabba doesn't
bother me, darling.

He is when I tell him

he can't smear
Templeton Courtland

because you've decided to use
the pictures for yourself.

Cookie... well, you
can't tell him that.

Do you think I'm so stupid
I don't know what you're up to?

I saw the copies
of Midge's pictures.

And I know that's
the reason Polly

didn't go through
with the wedding.

So, whom do you think
you're fooling?

Certainly not you,
Enid, dear.

Okay, tell me.

Now, how much did you say
that Grabba agreed to pay

for something that
would smear Courtland?

You know
just as well as I do: $ , .

And how much
do you think we'd split

if I married Polly Courtland?

(scoffing):
Married her?

Well, it could happen.

After all, she'd do practically
anything to protect her father.

Let's say, uh... quarter
of a million for each of us?

And even if
the marriage

didn't come off--
$ , -- why,

it would be peanuts.

Now do you see why you're
not telling Grabba anything?

(knocking on door)

Who's that?

I don't know, but
you better leave.

I'll call you tomorrow, darling.

Why the devil can't you
pick up your telephone?

It happens there's somebody

I don't want to talk to
at the moment.

What's up?
Eddie King.

I only b*at him here by
making like a hot-rodder.

Jonny thinks you
ought to clear out.

If he's heard
about those pictures

you sneaked of me and Midge...

he's gonna clobber you
good, baby.

He hasn't heard about them
unless you told him.

I wish I had the nerve.

You were paid plenty
to keep your mouth shut.

I can always kick it back, baby.

Oh, sure.

And I can always have
those pictures published.

Contributing to the
delinquency of a minor.

Crossing a state line.

A trial, prison,
no jobs when you get out.

No, no, Bongo.

No, I'd keep that money
if I were you.

(knocking on door)

Come in, Eddie,
the door's open.

How'd you get
here, Bongo?

I drove... at Jonny's
urgent request.

She seemed to think you were
bugged at George for something.

Could be I am.

Sherwin, I want to
ask you something

and I want a straight answer.

Okay, ask.

Did you say anything
to Polly this morning

when she was coming
down the aisle?

I didn't say anything.

I don't believe you.

Ask Polly.

I'm asking you!

No comment.

We'll see about that.

Still no comment?

Bongo...
Cool it, Eddie.

You're gonna get nowhere
blowing your top around here.

You know what
this is all about?

Of course not.
Then keep out.

What did you say to her?

Now, look, supposing I bring
Polly to the club tonight.

Then you can ask her
if I said anything.

She'd come there with you?

I think so.

Okay.

If she doesn't show,
I'll be back.

Come on, Bongo.

You can make your
report to Jonny.

No casualties,
at least so far.

(fast-tempo jazz playing)

* Someday he'll come along *

* The man I love *

* And he'll be big and strong *

* The man I love *

* And when he comes my way *

* I'll do my best *

* To make him stay *

* He'll look at me and smile *

* I'll understand *

* And in a little while *

* He'll take my hand *

* And though it seems absurd *

* I know we both won't stay *

* Away *

* Maybe I shall
meet him Sunday *

* Maybe Monday *

* Maybe not *

* Still, I'm sure
to meet him one day *

* Maybe... *

* Tuesday *

* Will be my... *

* Good news day *

* *

* He'll build a little home *

* Just meant for two *

* From which I'll never roam *

* Who would, would you? *

* And so, all else above *

* I'm waiting for *

* The man... *

* I... *

* Love! *

(song ends)

(applause)

Polly, I have to talk to you.

Not here.
Now.

I have to know what
this is all about.

Why you ran away.

Was it because
of George Sherwin?

Was it?

Yes, Eddie, it was.

But why?
What's he got to do with you?

Polly, you don't
even like the guy.

I can't believe that you do!
I just can't.

All I can tell you
is just that, maybe,

someday I can explain.

But all I want right now
is just for you to just

please leave me alone, just
please, please leave me alone.

* *

(engine starts)

(engine starts,
car drives away)

Both parties were apparently
drinking straight whiskey,

which a woman
wouldn't likely do.

I didn't notice any traces
of lipstick on those glasses,

nor on the butt in the ashtray.

Yeah, it seems to
add up to a man.

It's too bad the recorder
wasn't in use.

Then we'd know for sure.

Well, anyway, I want
the bottle and glasses dusted

for fingerprints, Sergeant.

And, uh, lab tests run
on the cigarette butt.

Yes, sir.

Well, anything
that I should know?

There seems to be only one
b*llet wound, Lieutenant.

What is that on
the rug there?

A damp spot.

Glass and...

what looks like
a woman's face powder.

Perry, have you heard
about George Sherwin?

Paul Drake and I
were just talking about it.

Oh, hello, Mr. Drake.
I'm glad you're here.

Hi, Mr. Courtland.

Polly was at Sherwin's
apartment last night.

You sure
about that?

You know how distraught
she was yesterday?

Last night,
I heard her accept an invitation

to go nightclubbing
with Sherwin and...

So you followed her.

No.

I waited up worrying

until she came home with Midge,
who'd gone with her.

And then,
about half an hour later,

Polly left the house again,

so I drove to Sherwin's
apartment building.

How did you know Polly
was there?

I didn't, until I saw
her car parked there.

So I parked, and I... I sat
there wondering what to do.

After all, she... she is of age.

So, finally, I went up
to the building entrance

and rang the bell to Sherwin's
upstairs apartment.

Have you talked this over
with Polly?

No.

She was asleep
when I left this morning,

but when I heard about Sherwin
on the car radio,

I came directly to you.

Perry...

what I want is for
you and Mr. Drake

to use every legal means
possible to keep Polly's name

out of this, because I know
she did not do this.

How do you know, Mr. Courtland?

Because I know who did k*ll him.

I saw him.

I saw him, in the
rear-vision mirror,

enter the building
as I was driving away.

Who was that?

Eddie King.

It's too bad you didn't show me
these pictures yesterday.

The penalties for blackmail

and extortion
are extremely severe.

I'm quite sure I could have
taken care of George Sherwin--

and without k*lling him.

But I didn't k*ll
him, Mr. Mason.

I told you, he was alive
when I left the apartment.

And that was around : .

Could there have been
someone else

in the apartment
while you were there?

Well, he couldn't
have talked to me

the way he did
if there had been.

He was very crude and direct.

And then he tried to kiss you.

That's when I ran.

I just wish
I had known

it was Dad
ringing the bell.

I wouldn't have had to have
gone out the back way.

Or you wouldn't
have been noticed by the man

you say was smoking a cigarette
in the alley.

Was it, uh,
light enough

for him
to see your face?

I don't know.

But he could see
that I was limping.

Limping?

I broke the heel

of my shoe on the stairs.

But I picked it up, though.

MARKHAM:
Excuse me.

There's someone outside
to see Mr. Mason.

A Paul Drake.

Ask him to come in, please.

I'll bet you anything
that creep was listening.

MASON: Paul Drake, this is
Polly and Midge Courtland.

How do you do? Hi.

Perry, Tragg and his men
have some warm stuff.

sh**t.

First, it's definitely homicide.

Sherwin's own p*stol
with the prints wiped clean.

Second, Tragg believes
that both a man and a woman

were in the apartment,
but not necessarily together.

Third, he has an eyewitness

who saw a woman with a limp
run out the back way.

And here's
the warm part.

The woman uses
Charmaine face powder

and smokes Vionnette cigarettes
imported from France.

Polly.

Yes, uh,
the face powder's mine,

and the cigarettes.

But how did the police
find out?

Well, they found
two cigarette butts.

One they believe the man smoked
was in an ashtray,

and the Vionnette
was on the floor,

under a table.

You aren't missing a compact,
are you, Polly?

It must have fallen
from my purse

when I left the apartment.

We'd better
get moving, Paul.

(upbeat jazz playing)

Man, I never thought
one way or another

about that kitten
being a minor.

Not even when you registered
with her at the motel?

Like she told you, baby,

all we did was
wash up there.

Where did George Sherwin
get these photographs?

He was one of the g*ng.

Probably took
'em for laughs.

Some laughs.

Yeah.

Hey, you don't
think I k*lled him?

Well, if, as you say, he was
holding these over your head,

you had a good motive.

I know somebody
that has a better motive.

Who?
WHITE:
Jack Grabba.

The gambler?

The photos were for him
originally.

Get Courtland off his back.

Only Sherwin decided to go
into business for himself.

Maybe Grabba didn't dig that.

Maybe.

Paul, I'll take Grabba.

You check with Jonny Baker.

That will be
a pleasure.

Hey, easy, baby.
That's my girl.

I'll try to remember that.

Be seeing you.

(upbeat jazz continues)

That's Grabba over
there, Mr. Mason.

(phone ringing)
He's been
expecting you.

Thank you.

MAN:
This way, Mr. Mason.

How are you?

Mr. Grabba.

You know something?

You're the first non-pro
who's ever been in this joint.

I am?
Yeah.

I'm a longtime fan.

I figure you'd be
a mighty handy friend to have

if I ever got
in bad trouble.

It's quite possible you
could be in bad trouble

right now, Mr. Grabba.

Yeah?

Well, now, that's
the first I heard of it.

(phone ringing)

Have you, uh, ever heard
of a George Sherwin?

The two-bit song-plugger

that got himself
knocked off last night?

I wouldn't know him
from Lawrence Welk.

(laughs)

Jack, Tampa wants ten grand
at four to one

on Blackstone in the seventh
at Tropico.

Tell 'em three-to-one's
as high as we'll go.

(phone ringing)
Now, if you tip me what
it's all about, Mr. Mason,

maybe I can help.

Have you ever
seen these?

No... but this second one
was taken in my suite

at the Las Vegas Carlton.

That's me standing behind
the doll with the dice.

You don't know
who she is?

No.

Something special about her?

Yes. That's
Templeton Courtland's

-year-old daughter.

Brother.

(phone ringing)

Has he seen these?

Not yet.

Sherwin supposedly
took them for you

so you could, uh, ruin
Courtland politically.

Eliminate him as a menace
to your gambling operations.

You were supposed to pay
$ , for the negatives.

(phone ringing, men chattering)

I'll pay $ , .

I'm not selling
anything, Mr. Grabba.

$ , , provided you
personally burn the negatives

and any prints
that have been made.

Burn them?

I'm a gambler, Mr. Mason.

A low type, according
to people like Courtland.

But I ain't so low

that I'd hit a man
through his daughter.

You made no
offer to Sherwin?

No.

But a while back,
somebody did ask

what I'd pay to get Courtland
out of the gambling picture,

and I said grand.

But I figured I was bidding
on evidence of graft

or political shenanigans
on the part of the old man.

Who was that somebody
else, Mr. Grabba?

There's a code
in this business, Mr. Mason,

just like in the law.

I'll have to pass that question.

But, uh, how about
my offer?

You'll, uh, burn these
and the negatives?

Unfortunately, I don't
have the negatives.

But if I did, I could
assure you, I'd burn them.

How did you happen to be
out here last night, Mr. Boyson?

Cigarette break.

Nighttimes, I get
a little sleepy

once I've done
the cleanup,

so I take myself out for
a breather now and then.

This woman you saw--
would you know her again?

'Course. Passed her
only a few feet away.

Man, these are awful.

What did you say
they're called?

Shh!
(quietly): Uh, Vionnettes.

They're, uh, from France.

(quietly): The French
can keep them.

Now, I just waltz
around down there?

That's right.

Go slow and blow
lots of smoke.

Yeah, well, what if the
police see us?

Well, you're not
doing anything wrong,

you're just acting it out.

I sure hope they know that.

And I hope you're right

about this being a help
to Eddie and Polly.

Take my word for it, it'll help.

Now, right about here
is where Polly broke her heel.

You put the rest

of the shoe in your
closet, didn't you?

It's lucky her size fits me.

All right,
keep blowing smoke.

Go under there
and look for the heel.

Now, be sure he gets a good look
at you before you run.

I'll go upstairs
and wait out front.

Good luck.
Thank you.

Who is it?

Oh, there you are.

Looking for something, lady?

Maybe I...

That's her.

There she goes again.

Same woman.

You're sure?

I'm positive.

* The nights *

* Are cold *

* For love *

* Is old *

* Love was grand
when love was new *

* Birds were singing,
skies were blue *

* Now it won't appeal to you *

* The thrill is gone *

* This is the end *

* So why pretend *

* And let it linger on? *

* The thrill *

* Is... *

* Gone! *

(song ends)

(applause)

(band playing
upbeat, mellow jazz tune)

Have you found Eddie
yet, Mr. Mason?

No. I hoped
he'd be here.

Uh, won't you join us?

Thank you.

This is my secretary,
Miss Street. Jonny Baker.

Hello.
How do you do?

Oh, you do real well,
Mr. Mason.

She could be
in show business.

Thank you.

Well, I've got one
piece of good news.

At least I
think it's good.

My landlady just called

to tell me the police
have searched my apartment.

You told Paul Drake

that you had an ironclad alibi
for last night;

otherwise, we wouldn't
have allowed you

to involve yourself
in such a manner.

However, you wouldn't

tell him what
that alibi was.

(sighs)

Well, if you must know, I...

I was out late with Bongo White.

We just sat around,
played some platters,

had a few drinks, that's all.

It was almost daylight
when I got home.

And what time did you get
to Bongo's?

Around quarter past : ,
I guess.

Bongo will know.

Perry.

Eddie? Eddie,
over here.

Mr. Mason.

Eddie.
Miss Street.

Hello.
Hi.

Eddie, where have you
been all day?

I holed up in a motel
last night.

I was too tired
to drive out to the Valley.

Eddie,
before you go any further,

do you know
about George Sherwin?

Yes.

Do you know you were seen going
into his apartment last night?

Sure-- at : , : .

Bongo was there with me.

No, I mean later.

About : in the morning.

Someone saw me then?

Yes, they did.

Mind if I, uh,
interrupt, Perry?

I have a few questions
I'd like to ask this young lady.

That cigarette
you're smoking, Miss Baker--

uh, what brand is that?

You're from the police?

Yes, Lieutenant Tragg,
Homicide.

(sniffs)

That's a Vionnette,
isn't it?

And you're partial to, uh,

Charmaine Cosmetics,
aren't you?

That's what I've got on.

And, uh, what you have
in your apartment,

along with a certain shoe,
the heel of which was found

on the service stairway
of George Sherwin's
apartment building.

Now, would you care to
tell me how it got there?

Now, just a moment,
Lieutenant.

If you're planning
to arrest Miss Baker,

you must warn her

that anything she says
may be used against her.

Oh, Perry, I'm not planning
to arrest Miss Baker.

The warrant
that I have here

is not for
her at all.

Who is it for?

TRAGG:
Eddie King.

Polly swears
she didn't k*ll Sherwin,

and I believe her.

So don't get any romantic ideas

about sacrificing yourself
to save her.

You've mixed things up
enough as it is.

I want to go over things
once more.

What made you jump
to the conclusion

that Polly had k*lled him?

Um, time element,
for one thing,

and Polly's
broken compact.

Now, let's have again
just what you did--

in the exact order.

Well, first, I wiped off the g*n
with my handkerchief

and put it back by the body.

And, uh, next,
I cleaned up the mess

that had been left
by the compact.

And I snubbed out one
of my cigarettes in the ashtray,

left it in place
of Polly's Vionnette.

And next?

I got out a whiskey bottle
and filled two glasses

to, uh, make it look

like a man had been drinking
with Sherwin.

Then I left and went to a motel.

Did you see anything at all
in the apartment

that might indicate that
another person had been there?

No, and there couldn't
have been.

Otherwise, Sherwin wouldn't
have been sitting at his piano,

playing into his recorder.

That's the way he composed,

and the,
and the recorder was still...

Oh, no.

What do you mean, "Oh, no"?

I really must have been in a
daze not to remember, Mr. Mason.

I shut off the recorder
and took the spool of tape

with me.

What did you do with it?

I put it in
the glove compartment of my car,

and the police
have got the car.

Do you suppose
they've played the tape back?

That's something
we better find out.

You are the night engineer
at the apartment building

occupied by the late
George Sherwin, Mr. Boyson?

Well, more like
night janitor,

but, uh, yes,
I work there.

Would you tell
this court, please,

what you saw
and heard there

at about : in the morning,
the night George Sherwin d*ed?

Well, first I saw a girl
coming out the back way.

She'd lost her heel,
and she was limping.

Want me to point her out?

No. Please, just continue.

Well, I finished the
cigarette I was smoking,

and then drifted
round to the front.

Then, about five
minutes later,

I saw a man
coming out.

Did you recognize this man?

How else could I have told
the police his name?

Picture on a record album
given me by one of the tenants--

Eddie King.

BURGER:
Thank you, Mr. Boyson.

That'll be all.

What kind of g*n oil
did the police chemists find

had been used on this
m*rder w*apon, Lieutenant?

A brand known
as Rust Off.

I show you now
this handkerchief,

also entered
in evidence,

and identified
as belonging to

the defendant.

I ask if you had chemical tests
conducted on it, too.

Yes, we did.

There were oil stains
on the cloth.

Same type as on the
p*stol-- Rust Off.

I see.

Now, Lieutenant,
I ask you what kind of tests

you conducted on the cigarette
stub that you say you found

in an ashtray
near the decedent's body.

Saliva tests, which are
quite similar to blood tests.

We found the saliva

on the cigarette
typed out AB.

That is the decedent's type?

No, the defendant's,
Eddie King.

That will be all, Lieutenant.

Thank you very much.

MASON:
I believe your
testimony,

Lieutenant, concerned
a cigarette butt found

in a particular ashtray.

Now, was it the only one
found in

the decedent's
apartment?

No.

Under a table near the body,
we found another cigarette butt.

MASON:
Of the same brand?

No, this, uh, proved to be, uh,

one of an imported brand
called, uh, Vionnette.

What steps did you take

in regard to the second
cigarette butt?

Well, we found it had been left

in the apartment
by a young lady.

A Miss, um... Jonny Baker.

MASON:
How did you
discover that?

Well, thanks to your Paul Drake

for getting her to go out
and look for her heel

the next day,
so the janitor

would be sure
to remember her.

In a typical attempt
to throw dust

in the prosecution's eyes,
Your Honor.

Uh, not so, Your Honor.

We were merely testing
the recollection of a witness.

Whew.

There's a fine line
of demarcation here

between testing
a witness's recollection

and throwing dust, Mr. Mason.

Uh, but go on.

Uh, were you able
to, uh, ascertain

when the Vionnette
cigarette butt was left

in the decedent's apartment?

Yes. Uh, shortly before
Miss Baker left that night,

which, in turn, was shortly
before the defendant arrived.

MASON:
How do you know
that, Lieutenant?

Because Miss Baker proved
to our complete satisfaction--

and, uh, to yours, too,
I'm sure--

that she was at
another apartment,

several miles away, at
the time of the m*rder.

Now, I have here
a copy of a report

on the impounding
of the defendant's car

following his arrest.

Did you examine
that car personally?

Yes, I did.

I didn't find anything
of any importance.

You didn't look
in the glove compartment?

Yeah, I looked.

And found...?

Oh, some old, uh, road maps,
cleaning rag...

oh, yes, and a spool of tape
from a recorder.

MASON:
And, uh, you played
that tape back

on one of your
police recorders?

TRAGG:
Yes, I put it on one
of our recorders.

Now, you heard what
very well might be

crucial evidence
in this case,

yet you failed
to mention it in your report?

Well, there was nothing
to mention.

Tape was blank.

Jonny had me
zoom up there

to warn Sherwin that
Eddie was coming.

She was afraid, in
the mood he was in,

he might get in some
kind of bad trouble.

Go on, Mr. White.

He came in while
I was there.

He wanted to know if
Sherwin had anything to do

with his girl
leaving the church.

Sherwin assured
him he hadn't,

and he and Eddie sparred
around a little bit,

but nothing happened,

and Eddie and
I took off.

Was there any display
of v*olence by Eddie King?

No. No v*olence at all.

There most certainly
was v*olence

on the part of Eddie King.

He practically tried
to choke Mr. Sherwin.

And when Mr. White
pulled him away,

he threatened to come back later
and finish the job.

Thank you,
Miss Markham.

Your witness.

Miss Markham...

I still don't
quite understand

what you were doing
in George Sherwin's apartment,

aside from
eavesdropping.

He'd sent for me.

We'd been friends years ago,

and he knew that I worked
for Mr. Courtland.

He had something he thought
Mr. Courtland might like to buy.

He wanted me to act
as intermediary.

Didn't he tell you
what the item was?

I got the idea
they were some pictures

Mr. Courtland might like
to destroy.

That sounds like blackmail.

How is it you didn't report
that to Mr. Courtland?

But I did.

I told him all about it.

Now, Miss Baker,
you told the police

that you stopped
by George Sherwin's apartment

the night of the m*rder,
about : a.m.,

to check on a song
that he was composing for you?

That's right.

You also said
in the same statement

that when you observed
Eddie King arriving

in front of the building,
that you left by the back way,

and that you broke a heel
in the process.

Am I correct?

That's right.

Now, Miss Baker, there's
a point here that confuses me.

When Mr. White
corroborated your alibi,

he said that you arrived
at his apartment at : a.m.

But the night janitor
at George Sherwin's apartment

says he saw you run out
of there at : or : .

Now, how do you account
for this discrepancy?

Well, I-I...

May I remind you, Miss Baker,
you're under oath here.

Well, I... I was never up

in George Sherwin's
apartment at all.

You mean that Mr. Mason

persuaded you
to lie to the police?
Oh, no.

He just had me test the
janitor, but... (sighs)

well, I-I just
thought it would help

if I went all the way
and said I was up there.

Help?! Help whom?!

Well, whoever the woman
is that was up there.

I-I don't know
who she is.

Your Honor, this testimony

could change
the state's case completely.

Therefore, I request
an adjournment

until tomorrow morning.

Mr. Mason?

No objection,
Your Honor.

I have no questions
of this witness.

JUDGE:
Request granted,
Mr. Burger.

Court will recess
until tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, Mr. Mason,

I'd like to see you
in my chambers.

MASON:
Yes, I finally
convinced the judge

that Jonny
had lied on her own,

but in doing so,
I had to tell him

about Midge's pictures
and Sherwin's blackmail scheme.

And by now,
unless I miss my guess,

Hamilton Burger has figured out
that you're the other woman

and is preparing
to put you on the stand

first thing
in the morning.

I think we should all
leave town tonight.

MASON:
That recording tape
puzzles me, Paul.

There should have been
something on it,

even if it was only the start of
one of Sherwin's compositions.

Uh, there's something that
puzzles me, too, Mr. Mason.

I do use Vionnette
cigarettes,

but I've been thinking
over and over again

what happened that night at
George Sherwin's apartment.

I-I... I know now, for sure,
that I did not smoke.

(jazz playing)

(music grows louder)

(bright jazz tune playing)

(music stops)

(knocking on door
on tape)

SHERWIN (on tape):
That'll be Polly.

Which is your cue to leave.

Take the back stairs, darling,
if you don't mind, huh?

I'll talk to you soon.

I promise, everything will be
just the way it was before.

Ta-ta, darling.
That's enough.

Concert's over.

Turn that gimmick off.

(switch clicks)

Now, the lever marked
"erase"-- turn it.

Unless you want a hole
in your head.

Don't mess
with me, baby.

I said turn it!

The missing tape?

Yep.

And with the tune we've
been looking for.

Before you set off
your fireworks--

as you call them,
Mr. Burger--

I've granted the defense
permission to recall a witness

who Mr. Mason says can
throw an entirely new light

on the matter
before us.

Miss Jonny Baker
to the stand.

I remind you that you're
still under oath, Miss Baker.

Yes, sir.

All right, Mr. Mason.

Now, Miss Baker,
you originally told me

that you were with Bongo White
in his apartment

at the time of George Sherwin's
death, did you not?

I was in Bongo's
apartment.

But was Bongo
there with you?

Now, before you answer,
I should tell you

that two quite valuable
film negatives

taken from George
Sherwin's apartment

the night of
his m*rder

have been found in
Bongo White's apartment.

Just a moment.

If two negatives
are to be placed in evidence,

I should be given a chance

to examine them.

The court is hoping
it won't be necessary

to place the negatives
in evidence, Mr. Burger.

Proceed, Mr. Mason.

Do you still maintain
Bongo White was with you

in his apartment between :
and : that night?

(sighs)
Yes.

Oh, he's probably told you

he was asleep part of the time,
but he was there.

What brand of cigarettes
do you customarily smoke,

Miss Baker?

(chuckles softly)

Different kinds.

I have here a drugstore
delivery order

placed by you the day before
George Sherwin was k*lled.

Two cartons
of Vionnette cigarettes.

Didn't you find it ironic,
Miss Baker,

when, at my request,
you smoked

a Vionnette cigarette
on the service stairway

of George Sherwin's
apartment building

the afternoon of his m*rder,

knowing that that very stairway
was the way you fled

from his apartment
after you'd k*lled him?

Oh, Mr. Mason!

I didn't k*ll him!

Didn't you k*ll him
and then take two film negatives

and a reel
from his tape recorder

and hide them
in Bongo White's room,

where Bongo had fallen sleep
waiting for you?

No!

Somebody else
must have hid them.

SHERWIN (on tape):
Oh, no, Polly, it's now.

Here, now.

We're going
to be married anyway,

so come on.

Kiss me.

K...
(loud smack)

Aah! Polly!

(door opening)
Polly, come back here!

Polly!
(door shuts)

SHERWIN:
Jonny.

JONNY:
So you think you're going
to marry her.

How?

Is that what those negatives
are for--

to twist her arm with?

To hurt more people?

SHERWIN:
Jonny, I thought you'd gone.

JONNY:
All these years of pillow talk,

sweet talk, marriage talk.

Next week, next month...

next year.

SHERWIN:
Put... put that
thing down, Jonny.

It might go off.

Here, give it to me.

JONNY:
Stay away.

Stay away, I tell you!

(g*n fires)

(thud on tape)

(sobbing)

I'm not sorry.

Well, eight years.

Well, that's just too long
to wait for any man.

I now pronounce
you man and wife.

(jazz band
playing recessional)

Mr. Mason, I don't know
how to thank you

for all you've done.

You've thanked me in the best
possible way, Polly.

Good luck to you.

And to you, Eddie.

Thanks,
Mr. Mason.

Well, now that everything's
ended happily,

I have a question.

And I hope I can answer it.

Why didn't Jonny or Bongo
erase that recorded tape

while it was still
in Bongo's apartment?

Bongo didn't know
it was there,

and I imagine Jonny was afraid
of being caught in the act.

It would've been
curtains for her.

Yeah, that figures.

Once we started
using her, she knew

she was being watched
night and day.

Perry, how did you
persuade the judge

to let you use the
tape in court?

Well, when I played
the tape in his chambers,

he pointed out it
was inadmissible as evidence.

In turn, I pointed out
that if Jonny had to be tried,

the two negatives would be
admissible as evidence.

Thus causing
Templeton Courtland

a good deal of
unwarranted grief.

So, the obvious thing
was to use the tape

to force a confession
out of Jonny.

But how did you
actually get the judge

to let you do
that, Mr. Mason?

I didn't.

He suggested
the idea himself.

After you.

(Della chuckling)

(theme music plays)