03x33 - Post Mortem

[bunniefuu]

Good evening, members of the garden club.

I have been asked to reveal
some of my horticultural secrets.

First and foremost,
I recommend plenty of sunshine.

I think it is shameful the way some plants
are allowed to loaf all night

when they could be growing.

Of course, the lamp has other uses.

It also comes with a ' "- inch
motor-driven spit,

a basting brush
and a gallon of suntan lotion.

This evening's entertainment well suits
this sunny and bucolic atmosphere.

It is called "Post Mortem."

It begins quicker than you can say...

I could lie here all day.

I know.

You'll stay there till there's
no more hot water,

then you'll get out and catch cold.

This'll warm up the room for you.

Oh, you're sweet, darling.

I can't help it, baby.
You're so beautiful
you must be perishable.

We ought to think about getting
another place, with a heated bathroom.

Well, we ought to think about
how we could pay the rent.

We don't want to touch our savings,
of course.

On the other hand,
if we had that money
working for us,

a nice little investment,
the dividends would make up
for the difference.

The bank pays interest.

%.

Well, it's safe there.

Anyway, we've already lost $ ,
by investing.

We haven't lost it at all.

Those stocks are a long-range proposition.
They'll pay off in time.

No, what I was thinking about, darling,
was something with a quick turnover.

The kind of investment
I heard about this morning.

Now, don't say no until you know what it is.

I don't care, Steven.

There's only $ of Harry's policy left
and I wanna hang on to it.

Now, you're just being stubborn.

I don't care.

That's all the money
I've got in this whole world
and I'll never have any more.

There's always my policy.
You'll collect on that someday.

Oh, Steven, that's an awful thing to say.

You know how bad it made me feel
to get Harry's money that way.

That's the only way you'd ever have
gotten any from that horse player.

Oh, you poor baby,
you b*rned your hand.

Quick, there's some medicine
on the medicine cabinet.

You take it and spread it on your hand,
and then I'll bandage it up for you.

It would never have happened
if we had a heated bathroom.

Oh, my goodness!

Well, don't tell me you're the upstairs maid.

No, there's no such thing
except on stage.

Then you must be Mrs. Harry Mead.

Yes. No! I'm Mrs. Steven Archer.
I used to be Mrs. Mead.

Who are you, all of you?

Mrs. Archer that used to be Mrs. Mead,
we're reporters. Can we come in?

Thank you.

Thank you, Mrs. Archer.

My deepest sympathy
on your bereavement.

Oh, did you know Harry?

My dear young thing,
I never heard of him
before an hour ago.

Well, how'd you know
he was dead?

There's no other possible explanation.

Why don't you sit down and tell us
what happened?

About Harry?

Well, Harry d*ed of a heart att*ck
after an att*ck of indigestion.

How long ago?

Six months ago.

Did you inherit the estate?

Harry didn't have any estate.

No other heirs?

What was his profession?
No.

Playing the horses, mostly.

It figures.

Up here now.

How'd he do?
Say, what is this?

What did you do
before you married Harry?

I was on the stage.
It figures.

Musical comedies, no doubt?

Uh... Well, how did you know that?

I was only in the chorus
so you couldn't remember me.

How good a picker was he?
Horses, I mean.

Well, that's kind of hard to say, see,
'cause he never had a winner.

That's my lead. "Dead horse player
finally picks a winner."

Will somebody please tell me
what you're talking about?

We've got good news for you, Mrs. Archer.
Your horse won the Irish Sweepstakes.

My horse?
I don't bet the horses.

All right, then, Harry's horse.
But you inherited the winning ticket.

Harry's?

But I don't... I went all through Harry's
things. I didn't find any ticket.

We just got the flash from London.

The winning tickets on Ravenal
are held by three persons.

One in Boston, one in San Francisco
and a Mr. Harry Mead, Iris Avenue.

Right name?
Yes.

Right address?
Yes.

I would have come across it.

He must've hidden it on you.
I'd look around real good, Mrs. Archer.

That ticket is worth $ , .

, ...

Dollars.

What are you going to do
with all that money, Mrs. Archer?

I don't know.

I didn't even know
there was that much money
in the whole world.

I can't even think straight.

What's the first thing
you're gonna buy?

I don't know.

Yes, I do.
I'm gonna buy a house.

And I wanna buy a house
with a heated bathroom.

Did you find it?

No, I didn't find it.
It's not here. I've gone
through this junk three times.

What've you got there?

I found this out in the garage.
If it's not in here, it's not anywhere.

Oh, honey. Let me do this.

It's got to be somewhere.
He bought a ticket, we know that.

He couldn't sell it
because it's not transferable.

And I know horse players.
They never lose a ticket
and they never throw one away...

That's just a bunch of old letters.

They were mine, the ones I wrote to Harry.
I didn't know he kept them.

Maybe it's in one of them.

No, it couldn't be.
They were written long
before we were married.

I was in that road company of...

Maybe he hid it there anyway.
I'll go through this bunch.

No, you don't, either. They're personal
and I don't want strangers reading them.

Stranger? I'm your husband.

Well, you weren't then.

Sorry. It's just that I don't want you reading
letters I wrote to another man. That's all.

I'm not interested in reading them.
I want that ticket.

Judy, there's $ , involved.

That's a fortune.

We'd be rich, wouldn't we?

Yeah.

You open that
and I'll open this one.

I'm so sorry, honey.
We could have done so much
with that money.

We've got to
find that ticket.

Think, Judy.
Where would he hide it?

Honey, I just don't know
where to look any more.

All right. All right, we'll start all over again.
We'll think like Harry.

Now, he buys a ticket
on the Irish Sweepstakes,

and he doesn't want you to know about it.

He was always promising
to stop gambling.

So he hides it somewhere
or he carries it around with him.

Well, it wasn't in his billfold.

Did you ever throw any of his things out
or give them away?

Of course not.
Oh, I gave his suit to Goodwill.

That's it. That's where he kept it.

It was in one of the pockets of that suit
and you gave it away.

No, it wasn't in one of the pockets.

Now, if you know anything about women,

you'll know that I went through that suit
right to the lining.

It wasn't in that suit.
I'm positive of that.

What happened to the rest
of his clothes?

That's the only place
we haven't looked.

It must be in one of his other suits.

He only had three. You know Harry.
Every single time he saved enough money

to buy a suit, he met a bookie
on the way to the store.

What happened to the other two?

Well, that plaid one I started cutting up
to make a skirt out of.

The blue one. He had a dark blue one,
I remember it.

That was his best suit.

And the ticket's in it.
That's the only place it could be.

Steven, that doesn't...
We've got it.

I know the ticket's in one of the pockets
of that suit.

Steven, that doesn't help us at all.

Why doesn't it?

Because that was the suit
that Harry was buried in.

Steven, I've been thinking it all over
and it's all very simple.

We're going to get that money.

You've got to present the ticket.

All right. We'll get it.

What?

We'll just have the coffin dug up.

No. We can't do that.

Why not? We can get permission to have
the body exhumed. It's done all the time.

It's not done all the time.
It's hardly ever done.

I don't want that coffin dug up,
do you hear me?

Well, if we don't,
how are we gonna get the money?

What good is money if...
If you have to do something like that?

I mean, it would give me nightmares
digging up a dead body.

I guess I'm superstitious.

I'm sorry, baby.

But, you know, I've always had a horror of
death and dead people and things like that.

You know I've never been to the cemetery
in my life.

Even when it was somebody I knew being
buried, I couldn't bring myself to go.

We just can't do it, Judy.

Not even for $ , ?

No. Not even for a million.

It's funny. You know that convention
on Friday in Philadelphia?

I was going in to old Kirby
and tell him to send another boy.

When he blew his top
I was going to light my cigar

with a -dollar bill and quit on the spot.

Well, I'll send you a postcard
from Philadelphia.

Hello. Shady Rest Cemetery?

May I speak to your superintendent, please?

This is Mrs. Steven Archer.

I'd like to know how I'd go about
getting my husband's body dug up.

No, no, no, not Archer.
His name was Mead.

Oh, I see.

Would you be so kind as to send me
one of those forms?

All right. Thank you very much.

All right, Mrs. Archer.
It will take just a few moments
to check the files.

I ought to be sure that
these things are in order.

Now, if you'll just sign here,
I'll tell the men to start digging.

You going to attend
to the business yourself?

Well, I guess I'll have to.

That's not a very nice job, Mrs. Archer.

You should've had your husband
take care of it.

Well, you see, he would have,
but he's in Philadelphia on business.

I'd be glad to volunteer my services,
Mrs. Archer.

Oh, are you one of the diggers?

In my own way,
I suppose, yes.

This is Mr. Wescott.
He's from the...

From The Daily Bulletin.

Oh, are you a reporter?

That's right.

I've been assigned to do a human interest
story on your winning the sweepstakes.

I'll tell the men
to start digging.

Well, how did you know
I was going to be here?

Oh, I was checking some facts for my story
and I heard about the exhumation order.

Thought you might
need some help.

Would you like me to handle it for you,
Mrs. Archer?

Very nice.

I believe I know
what to look for.

You do? What?

It's pretty obvious the ticket was
buried with your husband.

It can be rather a disagreeable job,
Mrs. Archer.

Why don't you just sit down here and wait?

If the ticket's there,
I'll get it and bring it to you.

Oh, thank you very much.
You're very sweet.

It's just part of my job.

Have they found...

They are just opening the box now,
Mrs. Archer.

Your friend, the reporter,
will be along in any moment.

Mrs. Archer,
what did your husband die of?

My husband... Oh, Harry.
Well, he had a case of indigestion
and it brought about a heart att*ck.

I see. Oh, here comes Mr. Wescott now.

Would you happen to have a little...

I've had exhumations before.
Help yourself.

Mr. Wescott,
I hate to bother you, but...
Thank you. Yes.

Did you find...

In the inside breast pocket.
I almost missed it.

Hurry up, Steven,
I've got a surprise for you.

You'll never guess.
Now, close your eyes.

No surprises.
I'm not up to it.

I should have refused to
go to that convention.

Well, I'm glad you did.

The ticket?
You really found it?

, dollars' worth!

grand. Oh, man.
Baby, you're wonderful!

The first thing
I'm going to do is

go right into the old man's office
and tell him off.

Yeah?
Where was it?

Right where you said.
In the right hand breast pocket.

Not in the coffin?
You didn't have it dug up?

Of course I did.

You fool!
I told you not to do it.

Who was there? Somebody must've helped
you. Was there anybody snooping around?

Why are you getting
so excited about for, darling?
It's all right.

I got a court order
and the cemetery people did the rest.

I got the ticket,
and they put the coffin
back right where it was.

It didn't hurt anything.
Now we'll have all that money.

Yeah, we'll have enough dough to travel if...
If we want to.

You're sure there wasn't any trouble?
Nobody snooping around?

Darling, who's going to be snooping around
in a cemetery at : at night?

Okay.

I'm sorry I got excited.
You were right all along.

Now we'll collect that money
and start living.

But not like the last time.

What do you mean by that?

Well, no investments.

We'll buy a house and a car
and things like that.

And the rest of the money goes
in the bank at %.

Well, aren't you
the practical little manager?

Next thing you'll be
buying yourself a new husband.

I'm serious. I love you, Steven,
but when it comes to money
you and Harry are just the same.

Betting horses, investments...
You always lose. For anything else...

Oh, I see.

You'll dole it out a little at a time.

"Darling, may I have $
for pocket money?"

Steven!

I don't think I'm going to like that.

Oh, hello, Mr. Wescott.

Good evening, Mrs. Archer.

Is your husband at home?

No, he's not.
And I'm not sure
when he'll be back.

It was really you I wanted to
talk to anyway. May I?

Oh, sure. Come right in.

Thank you.

I need a little more information for my story,

and I wondered do you mind if I asked you
a couple more questions?

No, not at all. If you don't mind asking me
in the dining room, I'm just finishing dinner.

All right.
Would you like some coffee?

No. No, thank you.

Here, you sit right there.

Mrs. Archer, I think it's only fair to tell you
I lied to you the other night.

I'm not a newspaper reporter.
I'm an insurance investigator.

And I was at the cemetery because I was
curious about the way Harry Mead d*ed.

He d*ed of a heart att*ck,
I told you that.

Uh-huh.

Just one month after my company had
insured him for $ , .

Of course, these things do
happen from time to time.
We expect them.

Even when the insurance salesman
who wrote up the policy

got married to you a few months later,
that didn't bother us too much, either.

If I were a little younger myself...

I guess there's
nothing much there, either.

But then when Archer quit
his job with the company

right after the wedding,
that did seem a little strange.

Well, why should it?
He didn't like selling insurance,

and he had an offer of a better job.

But he was a very good insurance man,
Mrs. Archer. He had a great future.

So about then I began to
get curious, you know, a little uneasy.

So I went all through
the Harry Mead file again,

still couldn't find
anything wrong.

What were you looking for?

Evidence your first husband might have
been m*rder*d. By Steven Archer, of course.

Well, Mr. Wescott, you can stop looking
right now, because that isn't true.

Well, I don't know about that.
You see, we had an autopsy performed.

How dare you!

We were going to ask you
about having the body exhumed,

and then by fortunate coincidence,
you went ahead and did it on your own.

Well, I had good reasons.

It turns out we have good reasons, too,
Mrs. Archer.

Your husband didn't die of indigestion
and heart att*ck.

He was poisoned.

I don't believe you.

I have the autopsy report
right here to prove it.

I don't care, Mr. Wescott.

You're wrong.
I know you're wrong.

Mrs. Archer,

now think back.

The night it happened,
Archer was invited here
for dinner, wasn't he?

And being a proper guest
he brought along a bottle.
A liqueur, wasn't it?

The flavor would disguise
the bitter taste of the poison.

Even so, how do you know
that Steven k*lled Harry?
I could have done it.

Yes, I considered that possibility, too.

But tell me this, why did you go to the
cemetery for the exhumation and not Archer?

It's not a very pleasant job for a woman,
certainly not if you had a guilty conscience.

Was Archer in favor
of the grave being opened?

No.

Why are you telling me all this,
Mr. Wescott?

You know I'm going right straight
to Steven and tell him.

That could be quite dangerous,
Mrs. Archer.

He k*lled Harry Mead for $ , .

With that sweepstakes ticket,
you'd be worth over , .

Well, Mr. Wescott,
you'll never make me believe that.

Steven loves me, and he wouldn't
think of doing anything to...

Why, just the other day
he saved my life.

Yes, what happened?

Well, I was taking a bath
and he bumped into the electric heater

and it almost fell
into the tub with me.

Now, that could have k*lled me,
couldn't it?

Just like the electric chair.

Yeah, that's right.

Well, he grabbed it right at the last second.
And he b*rned his hand terribly.

So, that proves you wrong.

Tell me, Mrs. Archer, did this happen before
the winners were announced or after?

Well, it was...

I thought so.

Where is he now, Mrs. Archer?

I don't know.
We had a little quarrel
over the money.

And he took the ticket with him.

Well, I'll not worry about that.

He can't collect on it
without your signature,

unless...

Unless I'm dead?

Judy?

Judy.

I'm sorry we quarreled. I had no right to
take that attitude. It's your money.

It's ours.
I just wanted to
be careful of it.

I don't blame you.
Look, let's forget it, okay?

Why don't we go out for dinner
and a couple of drinks?
We should be celebrating.

All righty.

minutes.

You should have the heater on.
You'll catch cold.

Let me warm up the room for you
before you get out.

Be careful, Steve.

Oh, I will.

If it hadn't been for that accident,
I might not have thought of this.

Mr. Archer...

My wife's had an accident.
Call for an ambulance.

Wait a minute,
what happened?

Well, I just found her
in the bathtub.

The heater seems to have
fallen into the water.

I think she's electrocuted herself.

You're under arrest for m*rder.

What? Who are you?

Insurance investigator.
Sergeant.

Are you crazy? I didn't k*ll her.
I just got in from Philadelphia.

Take him downtown.

Look, if somebody
would only call

for an ambulance for my wife,
maybe it isn't too late.

Get him out of here.

Steven Archer.

Thank heavens you're all right, Judy.

These fools were trying
to say I m*rder*d you.

Well, you tried to.

Don't be silly.
Get these things off.

You threw that electric heater into the tub
and tried to electrocute me.

It was an accident,
it slipped out of my hand.

If Mr. Wescott hadn't pulled the fuse
before he left, I'd be dead.

How are you going to prove anything?
It's my word against hers.

That'll never hold up.

I got an autopsy report on Harry Mead today.

Mrs. Archer, would you
like me to get a doctor for you?

You've had a bad shock, you know.

Maybe you'd better call someone to
come stay with you for a while.

No, I'm all right.

What's gonna happen to Steven?

Well, with one m*rder and one attempted
m*rder, I don't think there's much question.

You mean he'll be...

The punishment fits the crime.
He tried to electrocute you.

Oh, no.

Wait!

Wait!

Just a minute!

Stop! Stop.

How do you like that.
Five minutes ago he tried to k*ll her.

Thank goodness I remembered.

I don't want to
go through that again.

You can see how effective the lamp is.

It looks as though I should turn off the lamp.

I shall do so following the following.

I'd better be off
in case the lamp does something to me.

I'll be back next week with another story.
Until then, good night.