06x26 - The Case of the Skeleton's Closet

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Perry Mason". Aired: September 21, 1957, to May 22, 1966.*
Watch/Buy Amazon  Merchandise


Defense attorney Perry Mason defends dozens of falsely accused people during courtroom drama, and he manages to clear all of them, usually by drawing out the real criminal on the witness stand.
Post Reply

06x26 - The Case of the Skeleton's Closet

Post by bunniefuu »

Funny how the dirt about one
small area in a big city

can become a national pastime.

Psychiatrists have a couple
of $ -words for it.

Emotionally disenfranchised.

You know, if you're dead
in the romance department

the stuff in that book
is more important

than eating or sleeping.

It's a runaway best-seller.
You read it yet?

You don't read it.

You--you wade through it...

with hip boots.

Harris covered
the who, what, when, and where,

as if he didn't trust
anybody's imagination.

Wonder how Harris
got his information?

Well, ask Weaver.
Dave lives in Cliffside Heights,

Mr. Harris' well-publicized
community of sinners.

What about it, Dave--
how did he dig up the stuff?

With a muckrake!

Good day, gentlemen.
Nicky, Walter, Louis, Drake.

Mr. Harris,
is there any truth to the rumor

that Monday's trial
has been canceled?

Are you settling out of court?

How much is McCann,
your publisher, paying off?

This Perry Mason,
who's representing

the Cliffside Heights residents,

is it true he caught McCann
with his defenses down,

by charging invasion of privacy
instead of slander?

Gentlemen. Gentlemen,
I have a statement to read.

There are copies for everyone.

Look out, Mr. Author!

Open your big mouth
and you'll be adding yourself

as a defendant, and liable
to invasion of privacy!

Well, Mr. Weaver

still chasing "scoops"
for that shopping news

throw-away you work for?

We service our readers.

We didn't put the people
of Cliffside Heights

in a glass house
and sell the privilege

of peeking inside
at . a copy!

Gentlemen, my statement.

"Upon my arrival in Los Angeles,
I was shocked"--

shocked, gentlemen--

"to hear of rumors of a possible
out-of-court settlement.

"Regardless of any statements
by Mr. Mason or my publisher,

"Albert McCann,

"this is a categorical denial
of such rumors!

"There is not and there will
not be any settlement!

"This issue, gentlemen,
will be resolved

Monday morning, in court!"

[Footsteps approaching]

[Door closes]

[Gasps]

Mother, it's in the paper!

They've even got our picture!

What does it say?
What does it say?

Let's see.

"Among those who received awards

"from the 'Cliffside Heights
Sentinel',

"sponsor of 'Our Town'
essay contest

"were Janet and Nancy Layton,

"students of
Jefferson Public School,

"who were outstanding winners
in their classes.

"The girls are the daughters
of Mr. and Mrs. George Layton

of ½ South Farrington."

Isn't it simply wonderful!

Well, I guess I have a family
of geniuses.

Well, I don't think
their teachers are going

to be impressed
if they're late for school.

Fame, how fleeting
is your glory.

Come on, girls, get your things.

Janet, what are you looking for?

The scissors. I want to cut it
out for my scrapbook.

Oh, no. I'll do that, Janet.
You don't want to be late.

Come on, come on.

Bye, Love.

There we are.

Mother, you won't forget
to cut it out carefully.

I won't forget, darling.
I'll be very careful.

OK!

Bye-bye, Sweetheart.

Bye, George.

[Door closes]

[Scissors cutting]

George! George!

What is it, Margaret?

He's going to court!

You're afraid he'll tell
about the children?

No. No, he mustn't, George.

I--I've got to stop him!

I've got to stop him.

Mr. Mason, I know I'm not
one of your clients

in the invasion of privacy suit.

[Sighs]
I'm not your client at all.

But please, Mr. Mason, please.

Don't let this happen!

Harris has no authority
whatsoever to say whether

he will or will not let the case
go to court, Mrs. Layton.

This action concerns the way
a book is being advertised,

It has nothing to do
with its contents.

You see,
it's the publisher we're suing.

And the publisher
has agreed to a settlement.

You're sure?

Well, unless someone has changed
the law while I wasn't looking,

I'm reasonably sure.

Maybe this publisher,
Mr. McCann,

maybe he's changed his mind?

His attorney's out of town
for a few days,

but before he left
we reached complete agreement

on the settlement
and jointly approved

the necessary documents.

There shouldn't be any trouble.

I'll call and let you know
what happens.

Mr. Mason, I'll do anything,

anything in the world
rather than let this man

go into court and talk.

Whether or not it has
any bearing on the case,

he's spiteful enough to get up
and tell the world

that I was married to him!

And my children must not know
this evil, despicable man

is their father!

But you saw it yourself
in the papers.

He said he was going into court!

- All right, I know you--
- [Door opens]

Look, I'll call you back.

[Hangs up phone]

Hello, Grace.

Hello, Mr. Harris.

Call the utilities, will you,

and have them resume service
at my house.

I haven't lived in the place
for a year,

so you'll have to contact
the gas, the phone,

electricity people.

And I--I want some stuff
from Collins Office Supply.

Here's the list.

Take care of it, will you?

Oh, and tell Collins
that I must have it today.

Hello, Albert.

You were supposed
to be here yesterday.

Well, we don't go to trial
until Monday.

Where are those papers
you wanted me to sign?

How's the book selling?

Good, but not for much longer.

I believe that document
is self-explanatory.

"I, Richard Harris,

"herewith state that as part
of a fraudulent sales campaign,

"I've willfully and maliciously

"permitted the public to believe

"'The Dishonored' was based
on true...

"I further affirm
that the events depicted

"in the said book
are entirely fiction,

that the characters do not
and were not intended to--"

You expect me to sign this?!

We were prepared
for any libel action.

But Mason has caught us
all by surprise

with an invasion
of privacy suit.

I've decided we're settling this
matter out of court.

New dust jackets
without the "true story" blurb,

waiver ads in all
the major metropolitan papers.

It isn't essential.

But as an indication
of good intent,

your signature on that statement
and its subsequent publication,

will help terminate
all legal action.

That will k*ll any possible
sales of the book!

You must be out of your mind!

Withdraw the advertising,

and that book would have
about as much appeal

as the diary
of a pretzel bender!

That's only part
of the settlement.

On advice of counsel,
I've also agreed to pay $ ,

into the Cliffside Heights
Community Service Fund.

Look McCann,

so a few sacred cows
got their horns chopped off

and started squealing.

You've beaten a dozen
of these law suits.

Why settle? Why?!

That's the way it has to be.

I'll have another statement
made up for your signature.

I don't need it, but I'd
appreciate your signing it.

Forget it!
I'm not signing a thing.

And maybe you shouldn't either!

Maybe you've forgotten what
I didn't write in that book!

Harris!

I...

[Intercom buzzes]

Grace: Mr. Mason is here
to see you.

Have him come in.

Those sacred cows you mentioned,
Mason is representing them.

That's one of the reasons
for settling this out of court.

[Door opens]

[Door closes]

Mr. Mason, Mr. Harris.

The eminent author seems
a bit disgruntled.

He isn't overjoyed.

And you?

Mason, I agreed to settle,
and settle I will.

Margaret.

Margaret!

Dave! Dave Weaver!
What brings you--

Da-- Your face!
You've been hurt!

Inside and now out.
The picture's complete.

I came to talk to you
about Richard Harris,

and the trial Monday.

There isn't going to be a trial.

Mr. Mason's secretary called me
an hour ago.

There'll be a settlement.

Mr. McCann hasn't changed
his mind.

Harris hasn't changed
his mind either!

He gave me this minutes ago
to emphasize his decision.

But I understand
Mr. McCann said--

Only the devil knows
what kind of a club Harris

is holding over him.

I tell you
this is going to go to court.

And I'm going to dig up
every rotten fact I can

about rotten Richard Harris--

No, no--

And splash it across
the front pages!

If he thinks
he's hurt other people,

wait'll I get finished with him!

And my children and the hundreds
of other innocent people--

will you hurt them, too?

Margaret,
what difference does it make?

Today or Monday.

When he takes that stand,

he's going to cut
everybody's throat, anyway!

I won't let him!
And I won't let you!

Wait. Please wait!

Margaret, help me expose him
for what he is.

We were friends,
here and in New York.

Trust me, please.

Let me say those are Harris'
children, not Layton's.

Let me shame Harris
by exposing how he treated them

and you years ago!

Give me a couple of hours.
One hour!

Give me the time to stop him!
I beg you, please!

My deadline before they lock up
the edition is an hour from now.

Margaret, I can't--

Please...

All right.

[Sighs] Call me.

Richard, this is important!

The children are going
to be hurt,

because they're your daughters,

because their name
was once Harris.

Heh. Now your idiot neighbors
in the Heights

are acting as if I invented sin.

Well, I didn't!

No. But you only compiled it
page after page--

a horrible monument of broken
homes and ruined reputations!

Margaret, your sense of timing
was always opportune.

By Monday the world
may end for me,

and you stand here spouting
your -and-dime philosophy!

You have no one but yourself
to blame.

Everything you ever touched,
you destroyed.

But I won't let you destroy
the children! I won't!

Even if I have to k*ll you!

All right, Collins,
this isn't a peep show.

Put the stuff down here
and get out!

Take it easy.

I made a special trip
to deliver this material.

I wanted to talk to you

about your account with
Collins Office Supply, that is.

I thought we had
an understanding about that.

Mm-hmm. I, uh...

I, uh, excuse me.

just wanted to make sure
our understanding

was still in effect.

I'll see you later.

Richard--

Oh, I've had enough of this!
What do you want me to do?!

Let your publisher settle.
Don't force him to go to court.

Sure! k*ll a million-dollar
advertising campaign!

Watch the sale of the books
fall off to nothing!

No, thanks! That would hurt
my pride of authorship.

But your children, aren't--

Mine, Margaret? Mine?!

Then why isn't
their name Harris?!

When you divorced me,
married Layton,

and moved back to the Heights
here from New York,

why did you change their names
to Layton without my consent?!

Knowing yourself, you have
the gall to ask me that?!

Or haven't you read that--
that trash that you call a book?

Oh, yes again,

the pride of authorship--
You keep hacking away at it!

Harris.
You know, I like my name.

And since it's theirs,
why shouldn't the two kids?

Richard...

This purse--
there's $ , in it.

So?

The settlement.

I know it may cost you money
because of the lost book sales--

perhaps a lot more than $ , .

You are so right, Darling.
So very right.

It's all I have,
all I could get a hold of.

But I swear to you I'll get
more--somewhere, somehow.

$ , in place of the public
appearances, the lectures,

the royalties on a million
copies that won't sell?

Oh, you have to be joking!

But there's no guarantee.

Oh, but there is, Margaret.

I made myself a guarantee.

The key to a Pandora's box
full of calumnies and cash.

Don't you care
about your children?!

No! Not now! Not before!
And not ever!

So you just turn yourself around
and get out of here!

Richard, please! Please!
I beg you!

I said, get out of here!

[g*nsh*t]

[Door opens, closes]

It's true.

Dave Weaver was right!

Richard Harris not only intends
to force this case into court,

he intends to destroy everybody
he can reach.

Please, Mr. Mason,
represent me. Help me.

McCann won't answer?

His secretary insists he just
"stepped out for a moment."

And Mr. McCann's attorney
still hasn't returned

from his out-of-town trip.

Mrs. Layton, I explained before

the decision was and is
McCann's alone.

And I assure you,
both he and his attorney

appeared to be
very anxious to settle.

Could it be this "key" that
Richard was talking about,

what Dave Weaver said,

the he has some sort of club
over McCann?

[Knocking at door]

Mrs. Layton, this is Paul Drake,

an investigator who works
very closely with me.

How do you do, Mrs. Layton?

Paul, Mrs. Layton has to pick up
a purse and some money.

I'd like you to go with her.

All right.

If there has been coercion,
Mrs. Layton,

we'll get to the bottom of it!

You come charging in here.

You--you bully your way past
secretaries

who make it very plain
I don't want to talk to you.

And then you have the gall
to accuse me, right to my face,

of knuckling under to some--
some imaginary blackmail!

I'm not going to accuse you
of anything

until your lawyer is with you,

despite our stipulation that we
complete all of the details

in his absence.

However,
you can answer yes or no.

Get out of here!

Then you are going to renege
on the settlement?

I didn't say that.

Then say the settlement's
still agreed to!

Well...

Well, what?

I made no commitment with you.
I signed no papers.

And if you think you can--

Save it!

Now, Harris threatened you.

With what did he thr*aten you?

Look, Mason, I can't--

[Door opens]

Yes, Grace, what is it?

A phone call for you, Mr. Mason.

A Mr. Paul Drake.

Thank you.

Yes, Paul?

Perry, I'm at the Harris house,
with Mrs. Layton

When we got here,
the police were here.

Harris--he's been m*rder*d!

Well, that's it.

Sometime between : and :
from a b*llet in the head.

I may be able to narrow that
time gap after the autopsy.

Well, Mrs. Layton may be willing
to do that for us

if she has recovered.

Would you take another look
before you leave?

Of course.

How are you coming along
with that b*llet?

Just about got it...

From what I've heard
about Harris,

that title would be more
appropriate on his biography.

Well, Mr. Drake,

do you believe one of Harris'
victims in this book did it?

Let's just say I believe
Mrs. Layton didn't!

Well, that's not surprising
for someone

who could be considered
an accessory after the fact!

Yes.

Mrs. Layton admitted
that Mason sent both of you

to pick up her purse.

What's Mrs. Layton's purse
got to do with Harris' death?

We believe it contains the g*n
that k*lled him!

Are Mrs. Layton's fingerprints
on that g*n?

No. No fingerprints.

But I don't think
they'll be necessary.

We should get pretty
conclusive evidence

from a laboratory examination
of Mrs. Layton's gloves.

Mr. Mason, your client is here.

Which one?

This one.

What took you so long
to get my release?

The district attorney had
some peculiar ideas

about removing evidence
from the scene of the crime.

He was quite disturbed about
your refusal to cooperate.

Uh-huh.

Well, my cooperation
would have made you a guest

in this institution.

Burger wanted me to admit
that you knew the g*n

was in Mrs. Layton's purse
when you sent us to retrieve it.

He did mention something
about a felony,

but you weren't booked.

No, just questioned.
Along with Mrs. Layton.

I hope she didn't say too much.

Well, they don't need much
with what they've got.

First, the coroner's estimated
time of death

coincides with the time
Mrs. Layton was there.

Second, homicide has a witness,
Harry Collins--

he owns Collins Office Supply--

who was present when
Mrs. Layton threatened Harris.

And third,

ballistics has proved that the
b*llet which k*lled Harris

was fired from the g*n
found in Mrs. Layton's purse.

What about Mrs. Layton's gloves?

Did the lab find anything
on them?

I'm afraid so.

Mr. Mason...

I--I didn't have anything to do
with his death, Mr. Mason.

Very well.

All right, now let's begin
with what you neglected

to tell me when you were
in my office--

that you threatened to k*ll
Richard Harris.

That you had a g*n
in your purse.

I--I don't know
how it got into my purse.

I didn't put it there.

But you did fire it?

[Sighs] Yes.

Where did you get the g*n?

I saw it in the center drawer

when Richard opened it
to get a lighter.

I don't remember picking it up,
suddenly it was in my hand.

Before I could raise it,

he grabbed my wrist,
the g*n fired.

The b*llet went into the desk
and through all the drawers.

How did you know that the b*llet
penetrated that far?

The police officer opened
all the desk drawers

while I was still in the room.

In the bottom drawer, the papers
weren't there any more.

I could see the b*llet hole

right through to the hole
in the floor.

Exactly what do you mean
by "papers"?

[Sighs] A pile of papers,
pretty thick.

- or pages
bound inside a cover.

Wait a minute!

A b*llet couldn't penetrate
- or hundred pages of paper

after it had just gone
through a desk!

Mrs. Layton, try to remember.

This pile of papers
that was bound together--

could it have been a manuscript?

Yes, yes.
Now that you mention it

that's exactly what it did
look like...a manuscript.

It may be in one
of the other drawers.

Or have you already
been through those?

I happen to be Harris'
publisher!

But not his executor.

The police thought that
what I was looking for

might be important.

They asked me
to go through his desk.

So now that we've determined
my status,

perhaps you'd care
to clarify your own.

Just what brings you here,
Mr. Mason?

Apparently nothing,

judging from that empty drawer
and your disappointment.

For the record,
as attorney for the defendant,

I have a court order
giving me the right

to inspect the premises.

Just what is it you think
I came here to get?

The thing that changed your mind
about settling the lawsuit--

Harris' manuscript.

The sequel to his book.

A sequel to his book?

Harris never wrote one!

If he did, I wouldn't have
touched it with a -foot pole!

Why not? You are his publisher,
aren't you?

And the defendant in a lawsuit.

It's in connection
with the suit that I'm here.

I was looking for the document
you kept asking

whether Harris had signed.

Mr. McCann, just when did you
give Harris that document?

It was given to him yesterday,
about : . After I saw you.

And if that question
is another insinuation,

I like it even less
than the first!

Well, if nothing else,

he's certainly consistent
in his dislikes.

Well, between m*rder and theft,

you didn't give him much choice.

Paul, how deeply did you dig into
McCann's financial background

before he agreed to settle?

Just skimmed the surface.

Remember, you called it off
after he accepted your terms.

I've changed my mind.

Dig in deeper.

All right,
I'll get right on it.

What about the manuscript?

Find it.

Find it...

I'd like to see Mr. Collins,
please.

He's busy at the moment.
But if you'd care to wait...

[Door opens]

- Grace...
- Let go of me!

You're getting upset
about something

that hasn't happened yet.

And if it does?!
Harris wasn't writing fiction!

Is there something I can do,
Miss Kingman?

Mr. Mason, I...

No.

I presume Miss Kingman
was referring

to Harris' manuscript.

What she was referring to
is none of your business!

Mr. Collins,
I'm Mrs. Layton's attorney.

That manuscript does happen
to be my business.

Come in.

Miss Kingman was speaking
of a personal matter.

It had nothing to do
with any Harris manuscript,

or whatever it is
you were speaking of.

A manuscript with a cover
large enough to contain

several hundred pages.

A cover, which I assume,
came from here.

Well, that won't be difficult
to determine.

Miss Moreland, run the tapes
on the Harris account, will you?

And see if you can find
any purchase

of our Expando manuscript cover.

That's the largest size
we carry.

What colors do they come in?

Only one--black.

But I don't recall
any such purchase.

And I used to supply
everything that Harris used,

including his typewriter and
the furnishings for his study.

There's some $ ,
due on it yet.

But you still delivered
his last order personally.

Oh, yes. I was hoping
to get something on account

if I spoke to him.

That stuff won't be worth
a fraction of its value

when it's reclaimed.

Especially a desk
with b*llet holes in it.

[Door opens]

I found it, Mr. Collins.
of those manuscript covers

were delivered to Mr. Harris.

Why weren't they listed
on his account?

Well, maybe they were bought
some time ago.

At least, they were picked up
and paid for

by a Miss Norma Weaver.

Weaver?

Any relationship
to the reporter, Dave Weaver?

Mm-hmm. His sister.

She used to be Harris'
secretary.

But I don't think
you'll be able to get

any information out of her.

So you finally got around
to Norma.

I understand she was once
Harris' secretary.

I'd like to talk to her.

Talk to her?

About what?

The possible existence
of a sequel to Harris' book.

There was a manuscript
that disappeared from his desk

after he was m*rder*d.

Your sister might be able
to tell me

if there's a second copy.

Go ahead.

Ask her.

Norma?

Norma?

Harris' destructive talent

wasn't confined to his writing,
Mr. Mason.

Norma was walking home from her
job at Harris' place one night,

taking her usual short cut
through the park.

Somebody deliberately drove off
the road and ran her down.

I guess she never saw
who hit her--

not the car, not the driver.

There's more to the story,
isn't there?

Yes.

The accident didn't k*ll her.

But it took the life
of her unborn child.

Had she known...

about the child?

The doctor told her
days earlier.

And she had time to have shared
the news with someone.

Did she identify the father?

Harris?

No.

Not before the attempt
on her life, and not since.

Norma hasn't spoken a sane word
since that night.

k*lling Richard Harris would
have been a pleasure,

a real pleasure.

If Mrs. Layton
hadn't deprived me of it.

Those gloves were worn
by the defendant

on the night of the m*rder.

And when they were subjected
to a laboratory examination,

Lieutenant, did they reveal
anything significant?

The right-hand glove had
traces of g*n oil on it,

and there were also specks
of g*n powder on the same glove.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

Now, I ask you
to examine this g*n

for purposes of identification?

Yes. It has my mark on it.

It's the g*n which k*lled
Richard Harris.

How did you determine that?

sh*ts had been fired from it.

One through a desk
and into the floor,

the other into the decedent.

Ballistics tests established
the fact that both b*ll*ts

had been fired
from the same g*n, this g*n.

I see.

Now, Lieutenant,
on the night of the m*rder

you personally took
the defendant into custody.

Would you please tell the court

where and under what
circumstances this took place?

It was in the decedent's study.

She had left
her purse there earlier

and had come back
to retrieve it.

Very well.

I now ask you
to identify this purse.

Does it belong to the defendant?

It does.

And did you have a chance
to examine it

before the defendant returned?

I did.
It contained the m*rder w*apon.

Plus $ , in cash.

You say that the decedent
had angrily torn up

the disclaimer prepared
for his signature

by your attorney and Mr. Mason?

Yes.

And after Mr. Mason left,

I had Grace, my secretary,
Miss Kingman

type up another copy
of the disclaimer.

And what did you do then, sir?

Miss Kingman told me
that Harris had asked her

to have his utilities turned on
at the house he still owned.

I called to tell Harris
I wanted his signature.

But the phone service
hadn't been connected yet.

That document wasn't vital,
but I thought it was important.

So I sent Miss Kingman out
to Harris' house

to get his signature on it.

Mr. Harris was angry and upset

even before I handed him
the document

and told him Mr. McCann
insisted he sign it.

And when he had read it?

Well, I couldn't repeat
some of the things he shouted.

Well, omitting for a moment,
the abusive language

he may have used, Miss Kingman,

would you tell the court,
please,

the substance of what
the decedent said.

Well, he had a thick manuscript
on the top of his desk,

and he kept pounding on it and
pointing to it while he talked.

- He--
- Just a minute, Miss Kingman.

As secretary to a publisher,

you are familiar
with the appearance

of an unpublished manuscript?

Oh, yes, sir.
That's what this was.

He told me so, himself,
Mr. Harris.

Did he tell you what
kind of manuscript it was

or the subject matter of it?

Yes, he said it was a sequel he
had written to "The Dishonored",

a book he'd publish with his own
money if he had to,

a sequel in which he used real
names and made no pretense

about the fact
that it was a true story.

Now, Miss Kingman,
let's go back

to what Mr. Harris said to you

when you asked him
to sign that disclaimer.

Well, I can't use
his exact words,

but he made it very clear
that when people found out

about the sequel
and what was in it,

there'd be no lawsuit
and no settlement.

And was he specific?

Did he indicate what people
would be named in that sequel?

He indicated Mr. McCann
would forget any ideas he had

about a settlement when he found
out what the book had to say.

And did he name anybody else

who would be included
in that book?

Yes.

His former wife.

The defendant, Mrs. Layton?

Yes.

He was furious about her,

about the fact that she had
changed his children's name

without his permission.

He...

well, he screamed that
with what was in that book,

Mrs. Layton would be sorry, very
sorry about what she had done.

That he would--would fix her

and those brats of his
once and for all.

Thank you, Miss Kingman.

Cross-examine, Mr. Mason.

Miss Kingman,
did you tell your employer,

Mr. McCann,
what Richard Harris said to you?

Yes, I did.

Did you tell anyone else?

Well...

I did see and overhear
part of a meeting, Miss Kingman.

Remember?

I...

I may have mentioned something
about the sequel to Mr. Collins.

When was it Miss Kingman
first told you

about Richard Harris' sequel,
Mr. Collins?

Well, she had called my place
earlier to place an order,

some stationery supplies
that Mr. Harris needed.

The order wasn't quite clear.

So I called back, myself,
later to confirm the order.

It was then, I believe,
that she first mentioned

something to me
about this sequel.

Now, you delivered this order,

personally, to Mr. Harris'
house, is that correct?

Yes, sir. I was hoping to get
a chance to talk to him

about his overdue bill.

And did you get that chance?

No, sir.

When I arrived there,
Mr. Harris was in the middle

of a fight with the defendant,
Mrs. Layton.

Well, tell us about that.

Well, they--they were really
hammering away at each other.

I don't remember what it was he
said to her just at that minute,

but I sure remember
what she answered him!

And what was it that
she answered him, Mr. Collins?

"I won't let you destroy
the children. I won't.

Not if I have to--to k*ll you."

Now, Mr. Tabor, as a serviceman

with the Cliffside Heights
Water and Power Company,

you received the call
on the day of the m*rder

to restore water
and electrical service

to the home
of Mr. Richard Harris?

If you don't mind my saying so,
it was closer to that night.

Oh, you remember that well.

This memo from your company
only indicates

that you were the one called.

I remember very well.
I got the call at : .

Now, that's just minutes
before I go off duty.

There was a church meeting
I was to attend that night.

And I remember I was annoyed
at how inconsiderate

some people can be
of the rights of others.

It's selfish, unsocial,
immoral, if you ask me!

Now, Mr. Tabor, please,
let's just stick to the facts.

Now, what happened
when you arrived

at the Richard Harris house?

Well, I went to the front door
so I could get in to check

before I turned anything on.
The front door was wide open.

I just assumed nobody was home

and the door had been
left open for me.

- So you went in?
- Yes, sir, I did.

I started through the house,
and was almost past the study--

I suppose
that's what they call it--

when I noticed something inside,
and I stopped.

What did you notice, sir?

There was a woman--

stiff.

She was leaning forward,

her hands flat on a desk.

She was looking down
over the desk to the floor

to something
on the other side of the desk.

She never moved--not once--
not an inch--

It was almost as if
she were hypnotized.

At first,
I couldn't figure out why.

Then I saw what it was she was
looking at on the floor.

What was she looking at,
Mr. Tabor?

The body of a man.

I could see his legs sticking
out past the end of the desk.

I turned. I left the house.

I found a phone.
I called in to the office.

They told me to go back,
that they'd immediately

notify the police.

And when you returned to the
Harris house what did you find?

The woman was gone.

Now, this woman, Mr. Tabor,

whom you saw
in Mr. Harris' study,

the woman you saw looking down
at a dead body on the floor,

is that woman here
in this court today?

Yes, sir. She most certainly is.

Would you point her out
for us, please?

That's the woman...
Mrs. Layton, the defendant!

He must be lying!

That water and power
company man, he must be lying!

Why should he lie?

He isn't remotely connected to
you or anyone else in this case.

Then he isn't lying,
he's just--he's mistaken!

Mr. Mason,
when I left that house,

Richard Harris was alive!

He was standing up!

All right.
Let's get to something else.

Now, the g*n you fired--

you just picked it up out of the
drawer and pulled the trigger.

Nothing more?

Yes. That's--that's right.

Paul.

All right now, show me

how you picked it up,
how you fired it.

It's empty, Mrs. Layton.

Nothing happens.

It, uh, takes this action,
Mrs. Layton,

to shove a cartridge
into the chamber

and cock the hammer.

Well, I--I just pulled
the trigger.

On a g*n exactly
like this Luger?

[Sighs] I--I'm not sure. No...

No, now that I think about it,

I don't think that the g*n
I took from the desk

was like that at all!

Was the g*n like this one?

[Drawer closes]

Yes! That's it!

That's exactly the g*n
I took from the desk and fired!

Mr. Tabor, voir dire
is a Latin French term

referring
to the qualifying questions

we ask prospective jurors.

It means "to speak the truth."

Now, would you mind if,
as part of my cross-examination,

I asked you
some of those questions?

Not at all.

Do you believe
in capital punishment?

I most certainly do.

The guilty must be made to pay?

An eye for an eye,
and a tooth for a tooth.

Always?

Morality cannot be
a sometimes thing.

The public has a right
to be protected.

Do you know what
post facto means?

After the fact.

Very good.

Tell me, Mr. Tabor,
if you were biased,

fanatically righteous,
let us assume,

would you permit that prejudice
to affect your objectivity,

your ability to see
and tell the truth?

Not at all!

Knowing what you'd
like to believe,

you wouldn't remember things
you didn't see?

I saw what I saw!

By the way, how is your vision?

Farsighted, nearsighted,
color blind?

My vision was and is perfect!

It wasn't too dark?

There was nothing
to impair your view?

Nothing between you and
the woman you saw that night?

I saw her clearly.

The desk wasn't in the way?

The desk was on the other side
of the woman.

From where you stood,
you saw the woman,

the desk directly behind her,

and the body directly
behind the desk,

all pretty much
in a straight line?

Exactly!

Had you ever seem Mrs. Layton
before that night?

No.

Then your identification of her
days after the m*rder

was based on the good look
you had at her face

- the night of the m*rder?
- Of course!

Now, if she was leaning
on the desk,

both hands flat on it--

as you testified--

and she was looking down
at the body,

her back was toward you.

How did you see her face?

Why...

Since you didn't go
into the room,

I gather she turned her head,
permitting you to see her face?

Yes, that must be it.

Did she turn
because you made a noise?

No, I don't--

Perhaps she was looking
for something,

something on the desk,
turning her head

from side to side?

That's--that's it!

I remember now.
I remember specifically now!

Do you also remember
specifically

the testimony
you gave yesterday?

Of course!

I quote.

"It was strange...
a woman, stiff.

"She never moved not once,
not an inch

almost as if
she were hypnotized."

Thank you, Mr. Tabor.

I told Mrs. Layton that
I had just seen Richard Harris,

that we had a fight
and he hit me.

I also told her that Harris made
no bones about his intention

of going into court and
slitting everybody's throats,

including hers and her children.

What happened then, Mr. Weaver?

She cried, pleaded with me,

and asked me not to print
a story,

to give her at least an hour.

An hour to do what?

An hour in which to...stop him.

Thank you, Mr. Weaver.

Now, just a minute!
I didn't mean to--

I said that will be all,
Mr. Weaver. Thank you.

Cross-examine, Mr. Mason.

Mr. Weaver,
were you in World w*r II?

Yes.

European theatre or the Pacific?

D-Day, on through Europe
to Germany.

Pick up any souvenirs
in Germany,

any you registered with the Army
before you brought them home?

I'm sorry.
I didn't hear your answer.

I didn't answer.

Because you don't remember

or because you don't want
to answer?

I registered and brought home
a souvenir.

An a*t*matic p*stol.

A Luger a*t*matic, wasn't it?

Yes.

It isn't registered elsewhere,

and it was never part of your
registration with the Army,

but you remember the serial
number on your Luger?

I'm not sure.

The number on the m*rder w*apon,

a Luger, is LU .

That's...that's my g*n.

How did it get
into the Harris house?

I... I don't know.

Mr. Weaver, did your sister take
this g*n into the Harris house?

Was your sister,
and not Mrs. Layton,

the woman Mr. Tabor saw
standing and looking down

at the dead body
of Richard Harris?

Yes, yes, yes! She was there!

But she didn't take that g*n
in there with her!

That g*n has been missing
for over a year!

How do you know?

The day after she was run down,
I looked into my desk,

discovered my g*n was gone.

There was a note there
from Norma, my sister,

a private note, to me.

A goodbye note.

"Goodbye," Mr. Weaver?

What did the note say?

It said,

"A woman in love
sometimes does stupid things.

"I've been hurt badly
by a man without a conscience.

"I took your g*n.

"And I've written a letter.

"He knows about it,

"knows and tells
the whole truth.

"If I decide to use the g*n,
I'll mail the letter to you.

"I'm frightened, Dave.

Pray for me."

The letter she referred to--

did she mail it?
Was it ever found?

No.

Whoever ran her down
knew about the letter.

He came back after he hit her.

He took the letter
from her purse

and must have taken the g*n,

so there wouldn't be
any awkward questions.

You see,
he figured she was dead,

an accident victim.

You're just guessing now,
Mr. Weaver--

particularly about the g*n.

The letter was gone, wasn't it?

I never received it in the mail.

Harris must have taken the g*n
when he took the letter.

He had it in his house.
He was k*lled with it!

While the power company man
was calling in to the police,

you found your sister,
took her out of the house?

Yes.

I don't know what buried
instinct always brought her

over there back to that house.

I'd found her there
or times before.

Did you see another g*n there?

Another g*n? No.

Did Richard Harris
have another g*n?

What makes you think I know?

Don't you?

After your call last night,
Mr. Mason,

I went back to the store
and checked our records.

Mr. Harris did purchase
a g*n from us, a . revolver.

This was about years ago.

Thank you, Mr. Collins.
I appreciate your cooperation.

That's quite all right.

May I ask you, sir,
to satisfy my own curiosity

is it usual for a stationary
supply establishment

to sell g*ns?

No, I wouldn't say usual.

I like g*ns.

I happen to be quite
an expert with them.

Selling is sort of an excuse

to have a big collection
of my own.

Now, you say you're an expert.
I wonder, Mr. Collins,

would you help me in
a demonstration for the court?

Of course.

Your Honor, at my request,

the desk from the home
of the decedent is outside.

May I have it brought
into court?

The b*llet fired
into the surface of this desk

should travel
in a straight trajectory

through the drawers
and into the floor.

But it is evident that the
b*llet holes are not aligned.

According to the police,

this is because the bottom
drawer was partly open.

Now, Paul, line up that b*llet
hole in the bottom drawer.

Thank you.

Mr. Collins,
assuming the bottom drawer

was not open but was closed

is it conceivable
that a single b*llet

fired into the top of the desk

made the holes in all
of these desk drawers?

Well, no.

I'd say it was impossible
for a single b*llet

to have changed angles
in the short distance

it had to go from the top
of the desk to the floor.

That's just the point,
Mr. Collins.

I believe the bottom drawer
was closed.

And that the b*llet
Mrs. Layton fired

did not reach the floor
because it was stopped

by Harris' manuscript!

Wait a minute!

If what counsel says is true,

how did that b*llet hole
get into the bottom drawer?

I submit the m*rder*r put it
there with the Luger

after he k*lled Harris with it.

Paul, replace the top and bottom
drawers, will you please?

[Drawers rattling]

After removing the manuscript,

the m*rder*r took out
the second drawer

and fired a b*llet
through the bottom drawer

and into the floor.

He then replaced
the second drawer,

confiscated the g*n
Mrs. Layton had fired

and put the Luger
into her purse.

When the police found the Luger
and the b*ll*ts fired from it,

they had no reason to suspect

that a third b*llet
had been fired,

a b*llet that had vanished
with the manuscript--

the sequel manuscript for which
you k*lled Richard Harris!

You don't know
what you're talking about.

The covers,
the black manuscript covers,

Norma Weaver bought them?

Uh-huh, that's right.

She often came to buy supplies?

Yes, often
but that was a long time ago.

And those were the only times
you saw her?

What are you talking about?

The same thing Richard Harris
talked about

in blackmailing you
for those supplies!

No...

The very same thing Harris wrote
about in that sequel manuscript.

No, that's a lie!

Is it?

Grace Kingman
saw the manuscript.

Suppose I put her
back on the stand?

Suppose she testifies
she also read it,

read about you
and Norma Weaver?

She couldn't! Every page in that
manuscript was blank, empty!

There was nothing
in that manuscript

except a spent b*llet!
Harris nev...

Harris never what, Mr. Collins?

Never committed to paper
the fact that it was you

and not Richard Harris
Norma Weaver was in love with?

I never...

I told her that...

Mason:
That you were married?

That you had no intention
of divorcing your wife?

Collins: Norma cried.

She called me
from Harris' place.

Told me she had written
the whole story in a letter,

a letter she was going
to mail that night!

Well, I was frightened,
don't you understand?

I had to do it!

Just as you had to k*ll Harris--
to prevent him from exposing

your attempted m*rder
of Norma Weaver.

He was no good!
He deserved to die!

Did Mrs. Layton deserve to die?

What?

Allowing her to be convicted--

wouldn't that have made her your
third attempted m*rder victim?

For the first time, Mr. Mason,

the doctors say
there's hope for Norma.

Knowing exactly what happened
they can use the truth

as a clinical tool
to get through to her.

Well, at least this whole mess
did some good.

What about your girls,
Mrs. Layton?

I guess I underestimated them.

Children are stronger and
more resilient than we imagine.

This hasn't been pleasant,

but this nightmare has made...

my husband, my children and me
closer than we ever were before.

We're very glad of that,
Mrs. Layton.

He was guilty of every sin
in the book, all right.

Everything but the one crime
I hated him for most, my sister.

How do you figure that?

Things are seldom
what they seem, Dave.

Hey! I know how that one ends.

"Things are seldom
what they seem,

skim milk masquerades as cream!"

How's that?

You're right, Perry.

Things are seldom
what they seem.
Post Reply