06x15 - The Case of the Prankish Professor

[bunniefuu]

In Thomas Paine's Common Sense,

the same incident is related
by a group of observers.

But where Paine uses the obvious disparities
in the descriptions of the incident

to make an anti-religious argument,

I am more concerned here
with the reporting of the incident

as it affects a phase of creative writing.

I am concerned with the sometimes
unbridgeable gulf

between what we see, what we remember,

and what we subsequently commit to writing.

You asked for it, Hewes!

I warned you to stay away from my wife.
I warned you!

My good man, you are interrupting the class.

Put that ridiculous toy away.

Oh no, Professor.

You talked me out of it once,
but not this time.

No, Mr. Moncton. Stay out of this.

[gasping]

Heroics are quite unnecessary,
Mr. Moncton.

If you'll return to your seat,
I'll explain your next assignment,

which will prove unquestionably

that all of you have quite undeveloped
powers of observation.

What you have just witnessed
was an experiment.

The question is how much
and with what accuracy did you witness it.

In the remaining minutes, all of you
will write a report of this little drama.

And you're on your honor not
to compare notes with anyone else

Drop your assignments in my mailbox,

and at our next salon,
I shall read some of them aloud.

[chatter]

Man, am I shook up!

Who was that guy that tried to jump me?

He was quite a hero, wasn't he?

But I'd have fired the second sh*t if--

It wasn't necessary.

Quite an excellent performance, Ollie.

I panicked, Professor.

That's the only reason I didn't sh**t again.

The second sh*t
would have been superfluous.

- And fatal.
- Hmm.

What?

I accidentally released the clip,
putting the g*n back in the drawer.

The cartridge in the breech
of the a*t*matic was a blank.

But, Professor, the clip was loaded
with live amm*nit*on!

That's impossible.

I like to fainted when I saw it.

If the hero hadn't jumped when he did,
I'd have sh*t you dead.

There were blanks
in the breech and the clip.

I keep the clip with the live amm*nit*on
in another drawer.

I swear to heaven, Professor,
I never opened the g*n.

Don't be ridiculous, Ollie.

Hmm.

Somebody came in here after I left.

Did you see anyone?

A guy brought this package in.

Ned Bertell of the... of the bookstore.

Anyone else?

Yeah.

But that was before you came in
to get your books, between classes.

A woman.

One of my students?

I don't know.

I saw her from the back coming in here.

That's why I waited till after you left.

You having woman trouble?

[scoff] Certainly not.

Here you are, Ollie.

Thank you for your help.

Thanks.

Hey, thanks, Professor.

That's quite all right.

Ollie, mention this to no one.

Understand? No one.

Anything you say.

Well, that was quite a show
you put on in class, Professor.

The peasants loved it.

No doubt.

Ned, as you well know, I'm an opponent
of censorship in any form,

but really this is--

Oh, well, give the public what it demands.

A college campus is not the public.

Maybe I could slip you one
in your next order.

There's no need to be impertinent.

When you delivered my order before class,
did you see anyone in the office?

Male or female?

A woman.

Aha.

What does that mean?

Nothing. The office was empty.

Thank you.

But I did see her earlier.

Who?

Your wife.

You may mean my ex-wife?

It's quite impossible. She's in Palo Alto.

Well, then she must have made
a quick trip, Professor,

because I sold her a copy of
L'Affaire Annabelle this afternoon.

She's staying with the Metcalfes.

[phone rings]

Hello.

[sigh]
Ronald, how are you?

Physically intact.

But I don't think my state of mind
a safe topic.

How long has my ex-wife
been your houseguest?

A few days, that's all.

A few days.

In that period I had the occasion
to converse with you several times.

Perhaps you didn't think the matter
of any interest to me.

Now see here, Ronald.

Really, I'd rather be left
out of this completely.

Laura is our guest.
That's the extent of it.

Is your wife there?

Let me speak to her, please.

Ronald Hewes wants to speak with you.

Hello, Professor.

I would like to speak to Laura.

And I don't want to make an issue of it.

Well, I'm sorry, but she's lying down
at the moment.

She's not asleep, is she?

Well, I really couldn't say.

She was out this afternoon
and seemed quite-- quite tired.

Tell my wife I want to talk to her.

I'll see if she's awake.

Laura?

Yes, Esther.

Your husband's on the phone.

Tell him I'm asleep, will you?

No, wait.

Ask him if he'll come over here
tomorrow afternoon after classes.

I think I'm ready to face him now.

Laura would like you to come here tomorrow.

Would : be satisfactory?

Quite satisfactory, thank you.

With the social amenities
out of the way, Mr. Mason,

I would like to ask one question
involving a legal situation.

Yesterday, during an experiment,

I was nearly sh*t with a g*n
supposedly loaded with blanks.

That's a statement, not a question.

I'm aware of that obvious fact.

The question evolves from the statement.
It concerns my divorce.

I'm sorry. I don't handle divorce cases.

I didn't ask you to, sir.

My wife has already obtained a divorce.

The final decree will be entered next week.

If I die before then,
can my wife claim any of my estate?

Did your wife receive
a community property settlement

at the time the divorce was granted?

There wasn't any community property.

I gather there is now.

I've saved some money since the divorce.

Apparently, she discovered this.

Professor Hewes, what are you looking for,

a way to dispossess your wife
or a way to prevent her from k*lling you?

[chuckling]

I must remember that lawyers usually have
well-developed powers of observation.

To answer your question, money
acquired after an interlocutory decree

is still community property.

I'm to meet my wife at : this afternoon
at the home of Dean Metcalfe.

I-- I wonder, could I prevail upon you
to monitor our discussion?

As your attorney, no.

As a legal arbiter to expedite a fair
settlement between you and your wife,

perhaps yes. That is, if your wife
has no present attorney of her own

and if she agrees to accept
my nonpartisan services.

My wife has no present attorney of her own,

and I gather you're
none too eager to be mine.

There is nothing wrong
with your powers of observation.

This afternoon, then.

Assuming you reconcile
your differences,

I'll try to draw up a fair settlement
between you,

one which your wife can then submit
to counsel of her own choice.

Agreed.

You realize, of course,
that any settlement will require

that all factual information
be reduced to writing.

Factual information?

Specifically a full financial
statement from you.

When you appear at this lower-case
peace conference of ours, Mr. Mason,

you'll discover that my dear ex-wife
already knows.

Knows what, Professor?

That I happen to have a balance
in my bank account

of nearly $ , .

I could learn to hate him.

Perry, why did you agree to involve yourself
with someone as disagreeable as that man?

Della, that's a very good question.

The door was unlocked.

It's still unlocked.

I'll leave, after we come
to an agreement about this.

If you wish to hold a literary seminar,
I shall have to disqualify myself.

I never discuss cheap novels.

Cheap?

This novel has earned over $ ,
in royalties alone.

When you accosted me a week ago,

I told you then I wasn't interested in you,
the hysterical story you told,

or that piece of literary trash, Mrs., uh...

Sheldon. Sally Sheldon.

And in case you forgot what I told you,
my maiden name was Lawrence.

And in case that doesn't ring a bell,

let me tell you again,
I was Monica Lawrence's sister.

Oh, yes.

I did have a student by that name once...

about two years ago.

Yes. Yes, you did.

And for her term paper,
she handed in a short novel.

Did she? I'd quite forgotten.

Oh. Is that going to be your defense, huh?

Unconscious plagiarism?

Well, Professor,
I'm afraid that's not going to work.

All you did was to flesh out
and expand on Monica's story.

I suggest, in that case,
that you contact, uh, E.G. Stuart

or the publisher.

I wrote to publisher.
They referred me to a literary agent.

Mr. Estridge was not very helpful.

I had no luck at your home,

so yesterday I came to your office,
and I searched it.

So you're the one.

Mm-hmm.

And I reclaimed Monica's original manuscript

with inserts and revision
in your own handwriting, Professor.

You're being ridiculous,
Mrs. Sheldon.

Your sister, if I may be blunt,
was extremely beautiful

but quite incapable of writing anything
as distastefully literate as that novel.

You're quite right, Professor Hewes.

She came to me for help.

I wrote that novel outline, Professor,
every last word of it.

I don't believe you.

Well, I'll have no trouble
proving it in court.

But I don't think
that you can afford a lawsuit.

Can you, Mrs. Sheldon?

- I can afford quite a lot.
- Hmm.

Including all the hushed-up details
of your sister's death.

The fact she was suffering from a very
mild case of incipient motherhood

when she perished from that "accidental"
overdose of sleeping pills?

Perhaps you could afford a scandal,
but what about your husband?

What about yours and Monica's parents?

My family won't be the only one to suffer.

You appropriated Monica's story
after she d*ed,

but what you didn't know
was that this story

was based on letters and things
that Monica had told me in confidence.

Now I want you to remember
just one thing, Professor.

The characters in this novel
are still very much alive.

Only the names have been changed
to protect the innocent.

I think this conversation has gone
quite far enough, Mrs. Sheldon.

Good afternoon.

Oh, no, Professor.

You don't get rid of me
quite that easily.

Tell me something.

Uh, this married professor whose house Monica
used to go to so often,

do you have any idea who he could be?

What an odd way to refer to him--
Graffy.

[laughing]

Oh, Professor, where did you ever get
such a silly nickname?

Good morning, Professor.
I'm so glad for you.

Are you? I can't imagine why.

Laura's back!

Your wife's back.

You've been peering
through your curtains again.

I've been doing nothing of the kind,
Professor.

I've been raking leaves.

And I presume you've been raking
the same pile of leaves ever since.

Laura.

I wondered who was
charging in here like that.

What's happened to you?

Your hand.

Your face.

Oh, nothing.
I slipped getting out of a cab.

I had it bandaged in a drugstore.

I guess I'm awfully late, aren't I?

I suppose I'll have to start off
by apologizing to him.

To whom?

Well, to Ronald. Isn't he here yet?

No, and he won't be. He's left town.

But I don't understand.

And he asked if a lawyer
could be here, too.

A Mr. Perry Mason called up this morning
and asked if I had any objections to--

[doorbell rings]

That must be Ronald.

Mrs. Hewes? I'm Mr. Mason.

I'm sorry to be late,
but I was held up in court.

Oh, won't you come in, Mr. Mason?

Oh, this is Doctor Metcalfe,
the Dean of the English Department.

Mr. Mason.

Mr. Mason, too bad
you had your trip for nothing.

I don't think Hewes is going to be here.

He left town.

It seems that this conference
and having you here

was just a stall, a trick.

Mr. Mason, will you help me?

Dr. Metcalfe,
do you have a phone I might use?

Certainly, right over there.

Excuse me.

Oh what's Hewes' home phone number?

Hollywood .

[ring]

[ring]

You meet a very literary-type mind
in this job.

That one just asked for a book by "Frood."

A "Froodian" slip?

Hey, you're swinging, man,
but don't intellectualize.

The chicks don't dig it.

All they want is emotional release.

What's the matter?
Have a fight with your girl?

Yeah, something like that.

Well, call her up and surrender.
It always works.

She's been dead for a while.

Oh. I'm sorry.

Let's get back to Professor Hewes.

I gave you the whole bit.

He wanted to know
if I saw a woman in his office.

He didn't know his wife was back then.

The professor wouldn't believe it
until he called her himself.

Oh, he was all shook
when he left here.

Uh, can I use your phone?

One thin dime will do it, dad.

Yes, money is involved.

Um, about two years ago,

Ronald told me that it was imperative
that he get a hold of $ , in a hurry.

I borrowed it from my parents.

How was this money used?

As a sort of campaign fund

to promote his appointment
as Dean of the English Department.

It was only after Doctor Metcalfe
was installed as Dean

that I found out that he'd spent the money
paying his personal debts.

How did you learn that his fortunes had...

recently improved?

Friends wrote to me.

Mr. Mason, if that had been my $ , ,
I would have forgotten about it.

But it's my parents' money,

and Ronald should have paid it back.

He refused?

Well, I haven't actually seen him yet--

[phone rings]

He phoned here yesterday,
but I didn't speak with him.

It's for you, Mr. Mason.

Thank you.

Hello.

Oh, yes, Paul.

There's no trace of Hewes.

And the professor's assistant in that test,
Ollie Benson,

denies anything like
the loaded g*n bit ever happened.

What else?

There seems to be a witness
to Mrs. Hewes' presence

in the professor's office yesterday.

Uh, hold on a moment, Paul.

Mrs. Hewes, were you at your husband's
office at the university yesterday?

No.

I haven't been there in over a year.

Paul, meet me at Hewes' office
right away.

Mrs. Hewes, do you know if there's
any other woman in your husband's life?

Of course I don't.

It's been over a year since--

Well, as a matter of fact, Mr. Mason,

a woman called my office this morning,
asking for Ronald.

Did she leave her name?

Yes, she did. It was...

Sally Sheldon.

Who is Sally Sheldon?

Two years ago, Dr. Metcalfe.

that young girl who d*ed--
you remember.

The very beautiful one
who took the sleeping pills?

Well, her name wasn't Sheldon.
It was Monica something-or-other

Monica Lawrence.

Yes, but she had a sister, a married sister.

You must remember, don't you?

You're right, Laura.

Her sister's name was Sally Sheldon.

What I don't understand, Mr. Mason,
is why is she looking for Ronald now?

[knock on door]

- Paul.
- Hi, Perry.

A little homework?

These students' reports
of Hewes' experiments.

I'd like you to go through them.

All of them?

Every last one.

Hold it, Perry.

What is it, Paul?

Lieutenant Anderson and Sergeant Brice.

I wonder when this became
a case for homicide.

Perry, there are a couple of people
waiting for you.

Mrs. Hewes one of them?

Yes, I called her,
told her you wanted to see her.

She's waiting for you in the library.

The other one is a man, a literary agent.

He wants to see you about Professor Hewes.

We'll get to him in a minute.

First I want Mrs. Hewes to get a cab,
go to your apartment,

and stay there until she hears from us.

Well, shall I show Mr. Estridge in?

No. I'll do that.
Just get Mrs. Hewes out of here,

and please hurry.
There isn't much time.

All right.

Mr. Estridge? Come in, won't you?

This is Mr. Paul Drake
of the Drake Detective Agency.

- Here, sit down.
- Thank you.

Nice of you to take time to see me.

I should have phoned,
but I'm a friend of Professor Hewes.

My secretary tells me
that you're a literary agent.

- That's right.
- You represent Hewes?

As a matter of fact, I do.

He's been doing a little freelancing lately.

And very successfully.

Oh, well, then he told you.

No, Mr. Estridge. You told me.

I never was any good at keeping secrets.

As a matter of fact,
he did write L'Affaire Annabelle.

Have you read it?

Not as yet.

When you do, you'll see
why he had to use a pseudonym.

It's the documental-type experiences
of a sweet girl undergraduate.

It smells, but it sells.

I've got another royalty check in my pocket
right now, but where is the author?

[phone buzzes]

Excuse me.

Yes, Gertie?

All right, send them in.

What makes you think I'd know
the whereabouts of the author?

When I talked to him
on the phone yesterday,

he said he was meeting
with you and Laura.

Now nobody can find him.

That just about sums it up.
[knock on door]

Hi, Andy. You're looking well.

Oh, I feel fine, Paul.

A little slower than I used to be.

It seems we just missed you and Perry
at Euclid University today.

Well, if I'd known you'd wanted
to talk to me, Andy,

I would have waited for you.

This is Mr. Estridge.

Lieutenant Anderson and Sergeant Brice--
Homicide, Los Angeles Police Department.

I've been wanting to talk to you,
Mr. Estridge,

but right now I'm interested
in asking Mr. Mason

where I might find Mrs. Ronald Hewes.

You are representing her,
aren't you, Perry?

She consulted me on a legal matter.

Having to do with her late husband's estate?

Late husband?

Found his body about two hours ago.

If you'd waited at the university,
I'd have told you.

Any details?

Where can I find her, Perry?

I imagine I'll be hearing from her.
Shall I have her get in touch with you?

That wasn't what I asked, but yes.
Have her get in touch with me.

Mr. Estridge,
we'd like to talk to you at headquarters.

Why, certainly, Lieutenant.

Mr. Mason. Mr. Drake.

She's on her way to my apartment.

Better call and leave word
that she's to come right back here.

Are you going to surrender her to Andy?

No, but I'm going to advise
that she surrender herself.

Might as well.

Once Andy starts looking
for somebody,

sooner or later, he's going to find them.

You're right, Paul.

Huh?

Della, I would like you to buy a copy
of a book called L'Affaire Annabelle,

a woman's overnight case,
some extra clothing to put into that case,

and a pad of writing paper.

Well, here we go again.
And what is it I have to do?

Just make sure
you don't lose your shadow

Good evening.

Miss Sally Sheldon, please.

Just a minute. I'll see if she's in.

Give me Miss Sheldon's room.

No. No answer.

I guess she must've gone out.

Is her key in the box?

No. Then I guess she is in.

Maybe she's just not taking calls.
Let's go up and see.

You two gentlemen together?

We are now.

Sergeant Brice-- Homicide.

A master key, please.

Thank you. Coming, Drake?

The Lieutenant wants her, Drake.

Sally Sheldon?

Mrs. Hewes.
It's the same thing, isn't it?

Mason had her use a phony name to register.

Nope. Two different people.

Okay, then who's Sally Sheldon?

I haven't the faintest idea.
Never laid eyes on the lady.

I assume Mr. Mason broke the news to you when
he arranged this meeting?

I know my husband is dead, but that's all.

He was found in his house, m*rder*d.

Exactly how was he k*lled, Lieutenant?

Stabbed in the chest.

Do you own a letter-writing kit,
Mrs. Hewes?

A kit of pen, paper, envelopes?

Yes, it's a leather traveling set.

May I ask where it is now?

In my room, at the Metcalfes'.

And a letter opener?

Was that the m*rder w*apon?

Better ask the District Attorney that.

Mrs. Hewes,
we have a warrant for your arrest

on the charge of m*rder.

As a literary agent,

I was always on the lookout
for new sources of material.

About a year and a half ago, I suggested
to Professor Hewes that he do a book.

- And did he, Mr. Estridge?
- Yes.

A novel, L'Affaire Annabelle.

And did Mrs. Hewes know about
the success of her husband's book?

Why, yes. I think I may have mentioned it
to her in a letter a month or so ago.

Mr. Estridge, as a matter of fact,
you're still receiving royalty checks

on Professor Hewes' account,
aren't you?

I would have handed one to him
a week ago if I could have found him.

And what becomes of that check now?
And of future royalty checks?

Well, I suppose I'll turn it over
to the executor or administrator

for the benefit of next of kin.

Mrs. Hewes.

But didn't Mrs. Hewes divorce
the professor almost a year ago?

There was an interlocutory decree.

In other words, Mr. Estridge,
because Professor Hewes was k*lled

a few days before that divorce
could become final,

Mrs. Hewes is the legal heir?

The legal heir of $ , ?

So I understand.

Well, somebody put the other clip,
the one full of live a*mo, in the g*n.

But the Professor told me
not to tell anybody about it.

Did the professor take any steps at all
to find out who had tampered with his g*n?

Well, he asked me if there
was anybody in the office after he left.

And what did you say, Mr. Benson?

A guy from the bookstore
was delivering a package, and a woman.

Did you know the woman, Mr. Benson?

I sort of thought it was Mrs. Hewes, but--

- Objection.
- Sustained.

The witness will tell what he saw,
not what he thought.

Your witness, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Benson, I gather you didn't see
this mysterious woman in the office

well enough to identify her.

No. I-- I wasn't very close to her.

Then it could have been the defendant.

Isn't that an opinion, Mr. Mason?

Or it could've been a student?

That's right.

Or one of the secretaries.

Sure.

Or even Sally Sheldon?

Who?

No more questions.

Mrs. Hewes was our houseguest
at the time,

which made for an uncomfortable situation.

Professor Hewes
was a member of my faculty,

and both my wife and I
were extremely fond of Laura.

Of course I knew that Professor Hewes
was coming over at : ,

but I have no idea why.

What time did you arrive home
that afternoon?

Shortly before the appointed time.

I wanted to finish some work
and be out of the way.

But Professor Hewes never arrived.

No.

I'd quite forgotten about it
until Laura returned about : .

When Laura returned,
was she marked in any way?

Yes. She had a bruise on her face,
and her hand was cut.

She said she'd tripped and fallen
while getting out of a cab.

And isn't it true that later that day,

she unexpectedly
moved out of your house?

Yes. We were both quite worried for a while.

We couldn't understand
why she had gone or where.

Did you subsequently find out where?

No.

The next we knew, she'd been arrested.

Mrs. Williamson, your house
is right next door to the decedent's house.

- Is that correct?
- Yes, that's right.

Would you please tell this court
in your own words

what happened on the afternoon
that Professor Ronald Hewes was k*lled?

Yes.

I was outside raking leaves--

you know, the lawn was just
covered with them--

and I saw Mrs. Hewes go in the house.

Well, naturally, I was surprised,

them being divorced and everything.

Yes, I understand.

Now, did you see the defendant
leave the house, Mrs. Williamson?

No. She was there
when he got home later.

How can you be so certain of that?

He went in the house, and he left the door
open for a minute or two,

and I heard him saying to her--

well, I mean, I couldn't help
but hear him say it--

he said, "You shouldn't be here!
Get out!"

- But she didn't leave?
- No.

And he closed the door.

Well, anyhow, later,
I had to be outside again,

and, uh, well, I noticed,
there was no one home.

And you know, I got worried,

so I called the police.

Thank you, Mrs. Williamson.

Do you wish to cross-examine,
Mr. Mason?

As I understand it, Mrs. Williamson,

your house is situated in such a manner

that you can comfortably watch
the house of Professor Hewes?

Well, I suppose so, yes.

Well, is it possible that Mrs. Hewes might
have left the house unnoticed by you

so that the woman who was asked
to leave by the decedent

was, oh, Sally Sheldon or someone else?

I object to that, Your Honor.

That's incompetent,
improper cross-examination,

and it assumes a fact not in evidence.

If the court please, on cross-examination,
I have a right to ask leading questions

and to test the recollection of the witness
by mentioning specific names.

I'm going to sustain the objection
as to any specific name at this point,

but you can ask the witness
if it isn't possible

the woman the decedent asked to leave
was someone else.

Thank you, Your Honor,
but I believe we've made the point.

I have no further questions.

There were obvious signs of a struggle
in the living room.

What about the rest of the house?

All right, except for the bathroom.

Blood was splattered on the washbasin,

and one of the hand towels
was bloodstained.

Was that blood the same type as that
of the decedent, Professor Ronald Hewes?

No, sir, it wasn't.

Lieutenant Anderson, I show you now
this letter opener, People's Exhibit ,

which was found
impaled in the decedent's body

and identified by the medical examiner
as the m*rder w*apon.

Were there traces of blood found
on the handle of this letter opener,

- as well as on the blade?
- Yes, sir.

Now, Lieutenant,
you did a blood test on the defendant.

With what result?

The defendant's blood matched that
found on the washbasin, the hand towel,

and the handle of the m*rder w*apon.

Lieutenant, did you check the premises
for identifiable fingerprints?

Yes. Aside from those of decedent
and a cleaning woman,

we found fresh prints,
a good many of them smudged,

on doorknobs, the bathroom mirror,
and the handle of the m*rder w*apon.

All prints were of the same person.

Who was that person, Lieutenant?

The defendant, Laura Hewes.

Yes, I was there that afternoon.

[sigh] Mrs. Williamson saw me
going into the house.

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

When I thought I heard him coming home,
I ran out the back door.

That's why Mrs. Williamson
didn't see you leave.

Yes.

But Mrs. Williamson heard Professor Hewes
order someone out of the house.

- Who was that?
- I don't know.

All right, let's take it one step at a time.

Why did you go there?

The fact Ronald had arranged
for an attorney to be present

confirmed everything
that Mike had written to me.

I needed proof about--

about that book
and about any money he might have.

Now, where in the house
did you expect to find that proof?

There's a file cabinet in his closet.

I didn't have a key to open it, so I-

I'm afraid I know what's going to come next.

I brought the letter opener
to pry open the file.

- And--
- Go on.

Well, I had to stand on a chair
to reach it.

The chair slipped, and I cut my hand
on the letter opener when I fell.

And when you went to wash the cut
on your hand in the bathroom,

you left the letter opener on the floor?

While I was in there,
I thought I heard Ronald coming.

I was frightened, and I ran out.

Laura, think carefully.

Could it be that what you heard
was something else,

someone else
who had followed you there,

was inside the house, hiding, watching you?

Mr. Bertell, does the College Book Shop
also carry stationery,

leather-bound sets?

We stock them. We don't sell many.

Why is that?

Well, the line we carry is too expensive.

The kids can't afford them.

I see.

I show you now this letter opener,
People's Exhibit ,

identified as the m*rder w*apon.

I ask if you recognize it.

Yes. It's the same brand.

This is a rather particular item.
It has a gold leaf initial on the handle.

Well, that was a special order.

Well, you recall it, then.

When was this sale made?

About three months ago.

And to whom?

A Mr. Michael Estridge.

Mr. Bertell, do you remember

whether or not Mr. Estridge took his purchase
with him when he left the store?

No, sir. He had me mail it as a gift.

And to whom did Mr. Estridge have you
mail this letter opener

later used to m*rder Ronald Hewes?

Mr. Estridge had me mail it
to the professor's wife--

the defendant, Laura Hewes.

Thank you, Mr. Bertell.

Mr. Mason?

Do you recognize this examination paper,
Mr. Bertell?

Yes, it's the report of Professor Hewes'
classroom experiment.

Written by you?

My name's on it.

Your Honor,
I would like to read this report

for comparison with the actual events
of that experiment.

If you'd pass it up here, Mr. Mason,
the court would like to look at it first.

Well, this seems to be the worst piece of
English composition I've ever encountered.

I agree, Your Honor.
It is badly written.

But at the same time, according
to the testimony of Ollie Benson,

it is a true recital of the experiment.

Now, Mr. Bertell, how do you account
for writing such an accurate report?

I just wrote down what I saw,
just like everybody else.

But it so happens that everybody else

reported at least some
of the details incorrectly.

How is it that you're so particularly
gifted in this respect?

I'm a post-graduate student.

I took the course once before,
two years ago.

Were you accurate because you knew
what was going to happen?

Because you put the clip
of live shells in that g*n?

I refuse to answer on the grounds
that the answer might incriminate me.

Two years ago.

That's when Sally Sheldon
was in school, wasn't it?

I don't remember anyone named Sal--

What about Monica Lawrence?

She's dead.

Why do you have to drag her name
into this mess?

Mr. Bertell, didn't Monica Lawrence
have a sister named Sally?

A sister you saw on the campus
and recognized recently?

Yes.

And isn't Sally Lawrence's
married name Sheldon?

Mr. Burger, it seems to me
you should object to this.

Mr. Mason, your repeated introduction
of the name Sally Sheldon into testimony

is quite improper.

If it please the court,

my only hope is to find Sally Sheldon.

I'm sure the court is well aware
of the difficulty

a defense counsel may have
in locating a key witness,

what with scant facilities and little time.

You mean you've built this woman up

just so the District Attorney's office
would-- would get curious?

So the police would go looking for her?

Yes, Your Honor.

And since the District Attorney
seems uncommonly slow

about entering this discussion,

I think it's very likely
that he's already found Sally Sheldon.

Is that true, Mr. Burger?

Yes, Your Honor.
As a matter of fact, it is true.

We just located Mrs. Sheldon.

And since she has no information which has
any direct bearing on the facts of our case--

Mr. Burger, if you don't intend to call her,

the court feels defense counsel,
who has been seeking her,

should be permitted to confer with her.

Mrs. Sheldon's testimony can have no
direct bearing on the case at all.

But we'll call her,
let Mr. Mason cross-examine her.

Yes. Yes, it's true.

The novel was based on Monica's term paper
while in the Professor's class.

I had started out to help Monica,

but I ended up writing
the whole thing myself.

A friend of mine saw me write it,

and I mailed a registered copy to myself
before Monica submitted it.

Mrs. Sheldon, why didn't you
file suit for plagiarism?

Well, my husband didn't
know anything about the book.

He might have wondered which parts
of the book were, well, about me.

But none of them were, honestly.

Did you also try to avoid any notoriety
concerning your sister's death?

Yes.

Our parents are still alive,

and they didn't know anything
about Monica, either.

But you see, I knew something
that Professor Hewes thought was a secret.

I knew that he was involved
with Monica, too.

How did you discover that,
Mrs. Sheldon?

In a letter Monica wrote me,

telling me about frequent visits
to a professor's house.

The letter specifically
mentioned Professor Hewes?

No, no. Only by a nickname.

But when I called Professor Hewes
by that name, he nearly fainted.

He never believed that anyone knew
that Monica used to call him Graffy.

In addition to this information about Graffy,

did Monica Lawrence's letters
name the father of her unborn child?

Yes.

Ned Bertell.

I was in love with Monica, sure.

And I admit I put those real b*ll*ts
in the professor's g*n.

But I didn't k*ll him
with that letter opener.

Believe me, I didn't. I didn't!

Mr. Bertell, Professor Hewes
was Monica's friend Graffy, was he not?

I heard him called all sorts of things
but-- but never that.

No, he's not Graffy.

The shortening of a man's name

may be a middle name, such as Curtis?

Curtis Grafton Metcalfe.

Yes.

My close friends have often
referred to me as... Graffy.

Was Monica Lawrence
one of your closer friends?

That's ridiculous.
I barely knew the girl.

Are you the one
who secretly took certain students,

including Monica Lawrence
and Ned Bertell,

to certain wild, drunken, off-campus parties?

Absolutely not.

It's ridiculous even to suggest
I could be involved in such a thing.

I have here copies of Ned Bertell's
academic grades two years ago.

The only thing that made it possible
for him to graduate from the university

was a passing grade he received
in your English class.

Now, you did give him that grade,
did you not?

Yes.

Doctor Metcalfe, this is Ned Bertell's report
on Professor Hewes' experiment.

Now, do you agree with the judge

on the present quality
of his English composition?

His English then, as now, was atrocious.

He should have flunked.

But you didn't flunk him.

Why?

Because he knew your secret?

Mr. Mason, no.

I'm sorry, Doctor,
but my client's life is at stake.

In L'Affaire Annabelle, there is constant
reference to a beautiful woman,

a beautiful woman addicted to alcohol.

Is that the secret Ned Bertell knew--
the identity of that woman?

Mason, I beg you,
she's tried so hard, so very hard--

Your wife Esther Metcalfe
is an alcoholic, isn't she, Doctor?

Along with Ned Bertell,

Monica Lawrence, as she wrote her sister,
visited Graffy's home often at night.

But it wasn't to see Graffy.
it was to see Graffy's wife.

His unhappy, alcoholic wife, who,
liking the two students,

secretly,
and without her husband's knowledge,

made the mistake of taking them
with her on her drunken sprees.

I was sick, confused.
I didn't know what I was doing

After Sally Sheldon spoke to him,
Hewes guessed the truth.

He knew you had
a considerable income of your own.

Now, with his book profits threatened
by Sally and by his wife,

and faced with possible legal action,

did he try to extort money from you
by threatening to expose your past?

Everything I owned,

he wanted it all, every penny of it.

Did you tell Ned Bertell

that Professor Hewes
was trying to extort money from you,

that he knew about the drinking parties,

about Bertell's involvement
with Monica Lawrence?

Yes, she told me.

Oh, Ned, wait.

That was the first day after Sally--

Mrs. Sheldon came to town.

Ned must have gone wild with fear,

dreading Hewes' revelation about what
happened between him and Monica.

Hewes could have shamed him,
had him expelled.

I didn't know about this
until after it had happened,

but putting the b*ll*ts in that g*n
was just immature panic, Mr. Mason.

Ned Bertell didn't know better.

But you did, didn't you, Mrs. Metcalfe?

It all started with me.

It had to end with me.

I went to Ronald, to plead with him.

But he wouldn't listen to me.

I refused to give him the money.

I told him I'd get a divorce

so he couldn't shame Graffy
or hurt him or destroy his position.

He became furious, abusive.

He struck me.

And I-- I grabbed him to stop him.

We struggled. We fell to the floor.

He kept hitting me and hitting me
and hitting me!

All of a sudden,
I felt the letter opener near my hand.

And I picked it up...

and ohh!

Ronald was an arrogant,
impossible man to live with,

a man with an insatiable ego.

Our marriage had fallen apart
long before I had met Mike.

Laura was driving herself too hard,

supporting herself
and trying to take care of her parents.

Is that why you told her
about the book and the royalties?

She was legally entitled to the money.

That meant a great deal to her parents.

And you had--

Yes. I'd already asked her
to become my wife.

Doctor Metcalfe is here.

Oh, show him in, Della.

Come in, won't you?

Mr. Mason, it's good of you to see me.

Laura, I have a message for you.

From Esther?

She begs you to forgive her

and to believe that she never
would have permitted you

to be convicted for something she did.

I know.

It's been almost two years
since she'd touched a drop.

She'd been doing so well, so very well.

Ever since that poor girl k*lled herself,

Esther seemed to face herself
for the first time.

And in just a few days,
Ronald Hewes ended all that.

No, not ended, Della.

She k*lled in self-defense.

We'll see to it that this nightmare
is no more than a temporary detour.

We, Mr. Mason?

You did come here to retain
my services, didn't you?

No sense in wasting time.

Suppose I go to see Mrs. Metcalfe right now.