Murder by Invitation (1941) - full transcript

- Subtitles -

Lu?s Filipe Bernardes

Hello, boss, hiya, Nora.

- Hi, Eddie.

- Afraid you was gonna be late.

How are you betting on this legal battle,

think they'll put the old lady away?

I'll quote the odds as soon as I look

over layout. And ditch that here.

- Hi, Mr. Denham.

- Oh, good morning, Mr. White.

Hey, boss, how about me grabbing a couple

of shots before things get started?

Sure, go ahead.

Who is he?

That's the famous columnist,

I invited him here.

I still think you shouldn't

attend this hearing.

Suppose they make a mistake

and try you?

You know, there are two schools of thought

about the sanity of columnists.

Quiet.

Alright, Mrs. Denham, would you mind

giving me a great big...

- Not at all.

- Smile. Thank you.

Now remember, just leave

everything to me.

And don't let personal feelings

enter into your testimony.

We all know that Aunt Cassie's simply

no longer capable of managing her money.

We'll manage it much better

for her.

Besides, Aunt Cassie will be properly

cared for in an institution.

Don't you worry about a thing,

Aunt Cassie.

Why should I worry, I'm the only

sane person in a family of nitwits.

Eddie!

She don't look crazy to me.

Reminds me of my old lady.

All kindness.

I guarantee you she wouldn't

hurt a fly.

But you oughta see those wolves. You can

see dollar signs all over their faces.

They're just hoping to put

the old lady in the funny house...

...so they can spend all that

dough she's got.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got it,

brother, you got it.

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye!

The honorable and supreme court in and for

the county New Your is now in session.

Judge Moore presiding.

We will proceed with the sanity hearing

of Miss Cassandra Denham.

This action is brought by attorney

Garson Denham.

And in behalf of himself and other

relatives of said Cassandra Denham,

who allege that the defendant

is incompetent...

...and physically and mentally unfit to

administer her real and personal property.

And pray therefore that she be

committed to a suitable institution...

...provided by the state for those

judged mentally incompetent.

Mentally incompetent, ha!

You will proceed, Counselor Denham.

Thank you, Your Honor.

With your permission, I'll call the defendant

in this action, Miss Cassandra Denham.

Place your right hand on the Bible.

Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the

whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Why not?

The truth never hurt anybody.

But where is your attorney?

Why should I spend money

on an attorney...

...when my only opposition is my

nitwit nephew?

Touch?.

- Hey, what does that mean?

- It means score one for the old lady.

The court will be glad to appoint

an attorney to represent you...

...without charge if you desire one.

No, thank you.

I can take care of myself.

I must warn the spectators that this is

no occasion for outbursts or for laughing.

Go ahead, Counselor.

Thank you, Your Honor.

What is your name?

What is my...

Your Honor, do I have to sit here and have

my very own nephew ask me what my name is?

Yes.

Miss Cassandra Hildegarde Denham.

And what you need is a good spanking...

...like I used to give you when

you were a sniff of a boy.

The old lady's crazy like a fox.

You will confine your answers

to the questions.

And the court will tolerate

no further demonstrations.

Go ahead, Counselor.

Thank you.

How much wealth do you possess,

Miss Denham?

- Do I have to answer that question?

- Yes, yes, yes.

Three million dollars,

and I'm going to hang on to it.

Another one of those things, huh?

Yeah, what?

What you just said before,

you know... touche... touche...

Yeah, you said it double.

Yeah...

I warn you, Miss Denham, to confine

your anwers to the questions!

I...

The alienists cooperating with the court...

...will disregard irrelevant flippances

on the part of the defendant.

I trust this is understood.

Where do you keep your money

and securities, Miss Denham?

Wouldn't you like to know.

Now, this is my last warning.

One more outburst on the part

of the spectators...

...and the courtroom will be cleared.

Now you will answer the question.

I refuse to answer on the ground

that my money is my own...

...until you decide it isn't.

And in the meantime, it's none

of his business.

There's the smartest crazy woman

I ever saw.

Hmm... your objection is well put.

- You needn't answer.

- Thank you, Your Honor.

Miss Denham, would you say

that you were eccentric?

I live my own life, if that's

what you mean.

Did you or did you not recently give

$500 to a man you'd never met?

A total stranger.

Not exactly a stranger.

He was a farmer who lived

up the road a piece from me.

He was about to lose his farm and I gave

him the money so he wouldn't lose it.

Did you demand any security

for this gift?

Why should I?

The man is honest.

I thought he'd sleep better

without a mortgage...

...hanging over his head like, um...

Damocles's sword.

But you did give this man $500

with no security whatsoever.

- Yes.

- Yes.

Well, there you are, Your Honor,

you see?

It's perfectly obvious that my aunt

is dissipating her assets.

They're my assets.

I'll give you ten to one she never

sees a padded cell.

- What do you think I am, a sucker?

- Yes.

Proceed.

Miss Denham, tell me...

Is it true that you use vinegar

on your apple pie?

Why, yes.

Explain to the judge and the alienists,

if you will, please,

just why you douse vinegar

on your apple pie.

Gladly.

That fat cook of mine makes them

too sweet. She's done it for years.

She wants to put weight on me.

I give up, Your Honor.

You should have done

that long ago.

This action is dismissed for lack

of evidence.

Hearing adjourned.

Your Honor.

Yes?

I want to thank you.

And if you ever come my way

up in the mountains,

drop in and have some apple pie...

without vinegar.

Well, thanks. Maybe I'll do that.

But I like vinegar on apple pie.

If you'd stop throwing those

things around...

...and tell me what you 're looking for,

maybe I could help you find it.

O'Brien, one of these days

I'm going to clear off this desk.

You do and you'll be out of business.

What are you looking for?

I'm trying to find that Hollywood item

that Danny Dover sent about a week ago.

For your information it's down in the

composing room all set up in type.

O'Brien, I don't know what

I'd do without you.

Neither do I.

Now that you have that problem

off your mind,

do you think you'd like to

see a caller?

- Who?

- Garson Denham.

That lawyer who got his ears

pinned back last week...

...trying to put his aunt

in an asylum.

- What does he want?

- Maybe he wants to put you in one.

He seemed sort of anxious

about something.

Alright, have him come in. But you stay

in the room while I'm talking to him.

- I'm allergic to lawyers.

- Okay.

Come in, Mr. Denham.

- Good morning, Mr. Denham.

- Good morning, Mr. White.

May I, er...

May I speak to you alone, please?

I am alone.

Miss O'Brien is part of me.

- Which part?

- Quiet.

Have a chair, Mr. Denham.

Speak freely.

- Thank you.

- You, um... you look a bit worried.

I am worried, Mr. White.

This... this letter.

This letter is definite proof that my aunt

Cassandra is mentally unbalanced.

I don't get it.

This is just a simple invitation for you to

spend a week at her place in the mountains.

Yes, but she sent the same

invitation to all the Denhams.

And you notice she insists

that we all arrive Friday.

Friday promptly at midnight.

Now, why should she want us

all to arrive...

...at Greylock promptly on the

stroke of twelve?

Perhaps twelve's her favorite number.

I tell you there's something

sinister about this invitation.

You notice she says that...

any relative who fails to show up...

...will be eliminated from her will.

Yeah, I noticed that. Sort of a

command performance, isn't it?

Well, it ought to be a cozy little group,

with all you Denhams gathered around...

...the festive board with the old lady

you tried to put in the booby hatch.

I tell you, I have... I have a feeling that

something terrible is going to happen.

Oh, come, Mr. Denham, you're taking

it all too seriously.

She probably just wants to bury the hatchet

now that she's been declared sane.

Sure, it's a great sport,

burying hatchets at midnight.

Especially in people.

You may scoff. But I have

a premonition of death.

I believe she plans to kill us all.

After which she'll probably

confess and say:

"Sheriff, I did it with my

little hatchet."

Oh, stop it. Stop it, O'Brien.

Hey, it does seem funny.

Oh, poppycock!

I watched your aunt at the witness

stand and she's no killer.

She's intelligent and harmless.

And what a sense of humor.

It may strike her as humorous

to murder us all in our beds.

Mr. White, I'm going to leave

this letter with you.

Just in case anything does

happen to me.

This fantastic idea of having

us arrive at midnight.

It's the hand at work

of a madwoman, you'll see.

Okay, Mr. Denham, I'll be watching

for murder news from Greylock.

And if anything does happen, you'll see

that she's brought to justice?

Oh, sure.

Thank you, Mr. White.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr. Denham.

See you in a shroud.

You know, this has all the elements

of a swell murder mystery.

Greedy relatives try to toss wealthy

aunt into the booby hatch...

...so they can get hold of

her money.

Wealthy aunt outsmarts them,

and is declared sane.

Then she invites them all to her place

in the mountains to spend a week.

And tells them to get there

exactly at midnight.

Midnight. That midnight angle

intrigues me.

Forget it. How about your stuff

for tomorrow night's broadcast?

Midnight. Now why should she

insist on midnight?

She probably saw the Cat

and the Canary.

Now, will you please go

back to work?

Okay, O'Brien, you slavedriver.

Here's the lead for the broadcast.

Say, I'd like to sit in on this

little gathering.

You know, it ought to be funny.

I wonder if I drove up there

in my car to Greylock.

Oh, well.

Well, here we are.

Aunt Cassie can't say we aren't prompt.

It's still only ten minutes to twelve.

I don't care what time it is.

We shouldn't be visiting a crazy woman.

Oh, stop it, will you,

stop it!

- Oh, good evening, Eric.

- Evening.

Any of the others arrived yet?

Not yet.

Well, I guess we might as well

go along in then.

Guess you had.

- Good morning, Eric.

- It ain't morning,

- Because you'd be too late.

- Too late for what?

To late to be murdered, no doubt.

I tell you, Larry, I don't like this.

After all, Aunt Cassie is

your father's sister.

And as your father's widow, I think

I ought to tell you that...

That Father was a bit balmy.

Yes, Mother, I've heard all that before.

Well, you mark my words.

Oh please, Mother, do we have

to go through that again?

Better go on in if you wanna be

with Miss Cassie...

...when the clock strikes midnight.

They're all here, aren't they?

I watched them come from my garden.

- Yeah, they're all here.

- Fine. Fine.

For goodness' sake, Garson,

stop that pacing.

- You're making me nervous.

- Nervous, how do you think I feel?

Oh, you should feel nervous.

You started this whole thing getting us

to send that complaint against Aunt Cassie.

That's right, blame me for everything.

Of course you'd have been highly

pleased if I'd succeeded.

Naturally, but you didn't.

And now we have to spend the week

in this ratty old mansion.

It isn't compulsory, you know,

you can leave any time.

Sure we can. And have Aunt Cassie

cut us out of her will.

You'd love that, wouldn't you?

No, thanks.

- We are staying.

- Well, I'm hungry.

I think I'll see if there's anything

good in the icebox.

Tom Denham, don't you dare

leave this room.

How can you even think of food

when we're all in danger?

What danger? Why, Aunt Cassie

wouldn't hurt a fly.

Welcome to Greylock, my precious

relatives.

Aunt Cassie, and cousin Mary.

Aunt Cassie, I know that I speak

for all of us...

...when I say that we're delighted

to be here.

We certainly are.

And I always look forward to visiting

your charming old mansion.

Greylock is such a lovely, restful place.

Oh, Aunt Cassie, you look younger

every day.

Poppycock! Stop fawning over me.

A week ago you were trying

to put me in a padded cell.

But Aunt Cassie, you know we only

did it for your own protection.

- And to get her money.

- Be quiet, child.

I'll handle this.

I've been protecting myself for forty

years, since I was twenty-five.

I've done a pretty good job of it.

So let's forget about protection and, um...

Sit down, everybody.

First I want you to know I brought

you here for a purpose.

I want to study you all for a week.

Just like a scientist studies rats

and guinea pigs in his laboratory.

After all, I'm sixty-five,

I can't live forever.

Everyone must die someday.

Oh, please, Aunt Cassie,

don't talk about dying.

Why, you're the picture of health.

And...

Well, I want to say right now...

that I had nothing to do

with the attempt to...

Well, send you away.

It was all cousin Garson's fault.

He talked everybody into

signing the petition.

Silence. I don't care who started it.

The fact remains that sooner or later I'll

leave this valley of tears and laughter.

And when I do, I'll leave three

million dollars.

The bulk of it will go to the one

I find most worthy.

Which means, of course, I'll leave it

to someone in this room.

The worthiest of an unworthy lot.

But I warn you, flattery will

get you nowhere.

So be yourselves.

We'll retire now.

Breakfast will be served at eight.

I'll expect you, all of you,

to be at the table promptly.

I hope you sleep well.

Don't let the knowledge that you're

sleeping under the same roof...

...with three million dollars disturb

your slumbers.

- Come, child.

- Aunt Cassie.

You mean that you keep all that money

here in this house?

Why not? Would anyone try

to take it away from me?

I like to keep it around

to check up on it... once in a while.

But don't try to look for it.

You wouldn't find it in a million years.

Did you ring, Miss Cassie?

Yes. Have you placed the luggage

in the right rooms?

Everything is just as you

ordered it.

Good. Now we'll all have a splendid

night's sleep.

Come along. I'll distribute you.

For goodness' sake, quit thrashing around

like a hooked fish and go to sleep.

Oh, I can't sleep.

I've got too many things

on my mind.

Of course you wouldn't understand that,

not having any mind to speak of.

Well, I like that!

You drag me away from home

to spend a week...

...in this dreary museum and now

you insult me.

Where are you going?

To get a book from the library,

have you any objections?

No, go ahead.

Go and get killed wandering around

in the middle of the night.

You said yourself you had a premonition

of death before we left home.

No, I've revised my estimate

of the situation.

Aunt Cassie may be a bit eccentric,

but we're not in any danger.

You go to sleep, I shan't be long.

Mister Bob! Mister Bob!

Mister Bob!

Ain't no use in digging in

and pulling up covers.

You got a telephone to answer.

Wake up now!

You certainly is the sleepinest man!

Oh, give me those covers!

Your big trouble wants you

on the telephone.

Ain't no use arguing with Miss Nora.

Oh, O'Brien?

What, ten o'clock in the morning?

She knows better than that. Tell her

I never talk to anybody in my sleep.

She said you'd jump right out of bed...

...if I tell you your lawyer Denham

had met with some killing.

- What?

- Yes, indeed. Mr. Denham's a corpse.

- Well, why didn't you say so?

- I kept trying to, sir.

- Well, pack me a bag! Hurry up!

- Yessir, yessir.

Hooray, a murder!

Stop there!

- You can't come in here.

- I think you're wrong, officer.

My press card.

And my membership card

in your lodge.

Hm... Sheriff's Association.

Here, you might as well look

these over too.

Honorary memberships in police organizations

from Miami to Los Angeles.

Goofy, isn't it?

But then, some people collect matches.

Are you really Bob White,

the fellow that writes the column?

In the flesh, officer.

Meet my secretary,

Miss Nora O'Brien,

and the alert young gentleman

on the other side is Eddie Stetts,

one of the best newspaper photographers

in New York.

I'm sure he'll want to take your picture

before we leave, won't we, Eddie?

Oh, sure, sure.

Um, where will I find the sheriff?

Oh, Sheriff Boggs is holding an inquiry

in the house right this minute.

Thanks, officer.

Be vigilant.

Somebody in this room killed Garson

Denham with that knife...

...and I propose to find out who did it.

Why don't you get on with it

instead of walking up and down...

- ...and talking your head off?

- Murder cases take time.

I've got to do a lot of deducting.

Deducting! You sound like a millionaire

making out his income tax.

Alright, everybody, hold it, please!

- Thank you.

- Who are you?

I'm Bob White.

New York Evening Register.

With cameraman and secretary.

Don't tell me who you are,

let me think! You're, um...

You're Sheriff Boggs and you're conducting

an inquiry to the death of Garson Denham.

Hiya, Sheriff, how's the inquiry

progressing?

Well, confidentially, Mr. White,

it ain't going so hot.

- Oh.

- They won't talk.

- Nobody knows nothing.

- Open and shut case, huh?

Mostly shut.

Shutter than the dickens,

but I'll solve it.

You may not know it, Mr. White,

but I'm a regular reader of your column.

Well, thanks, Sheriff. Make a note of that,

I've got another reader.

Maybe when I do solve this

dastardly crime,

you can write one of them

editorials about me...

...like you wrote about Jeb Hoover,

Dr. Defoe.

I'd be glad to, Sheriff, but how about

the crime? Got any clues?

Only this knife. I found it sticking

on the corpus delicti.

- Take a look at it.

- No, no, no, no, Sheriff.

You take care of that,

I'm allergic to knives.

Dates way back to the time

he learned to used a fork.

Quiet.

Well, Miss Denham, I see your family

reunion got off to a nice little murder.

Something's always interfering

with my plans.

If you mention me in your column,

be sure and spell my name right.

Oh, you read my column?

- Yes.

- Well, thank you.

I was scared to death they's ask

me that on the witness stand.

If I'd admitted they'd have thought

sure I was crazy.

You know, Miss Denham,

you and I are just gonna get

along fine, just fine.

I tell you I got orders not

to let anybody in here!

Don't tell me I can't come calling on

Cassie Denham when she's in trouble.

Get out of my way!

Why, what are they doing

to you, Cassandra?

Are they accusing you of

killing Garson Denham?

If they are, I can tell them

they're wrong.

Any man who went snooping around

like he did last night...

...was bound to get his commeupance.

How did you know he was snooping?

I saw him... through the

library window.

- What time was that?

- About one o'clock in the morning.

Trowbridge Montrose,

what were you doing looking through my

library window at one o'clock in the morning?

Probably looking for a book.

Speak up, Mr. Montrose, how did you

happen to be snooping at that hour?

I was walking in my garden.

All of a sudden I saw a light

come on in Cassie's library.

I peeped through the window and saw

Garson Denham snooping.

Looking behind pictures and pulling

books from shelves.

- What else did you see?

- That was all.

When he quit snooping and sat

down to read, I went home.

Do you generally walk in your garden

at one o'clock in the morning?

Always, when the flowers are in bloom.

The scent of flowers at night is much

sweeter than it is in the daytime.

I love the scent of flowers at night.

Your name wouldn't be Ferdinand,

would it?

No.

I was christened Trowbridge

Cadwalader Montrose.

However, my grandfather's name

was Ferdinand.

That explains it, probably hereditary.

What is hereditary?

Um, look, Mr. Montrose, suppose

we forget the whole thing?

Mr. White, what is your theory

of this crime?

Well, Sheriff, I haven't had time to

theorize, but I have a suggestion.

- What is it?

- I have a friend in New York by the name of...

...Phylo Christopher.

Now, he writes murder mysteries,

if I send for him, probably he could help.

Oh no, you don't.

I've read all his books and I don't like

the way he solves his crimes.

He always brings in an outside

character in the last three pages...

...and pins the murder on him.

Just to fool his readers.

Nobody's gonna pin this murder

on an outside character.

Somebody in this room killed

Garson Denham.

And I'm going to apprehend

the guilty party.

An admirable determination, Sheriff,

and well put.

In the meantime we'll go to the village

and a arrange accomodations.

You'll do nothing of the kind.

We've plenty of empty rooms here

and you're welcome to stay.

In fact, Mr. White, you can sleep in

the bed George Washington once slept in.

What, another?

The father of our country certainly

got around, didn't he?

I accept your hospitality, Miss Cassandra,

and you're very kind.

In the meantime, Sheriff,

what happens now?

I don't rightly know.

You fool you blundering idiot!

How can you be so dumb?

You know this madwoman

committed the murder.

- Why don't you arrest her?

- Now take it easy, Mrs. Denham.

I've got no proof that she killed

your husband.

Proof? Proof?

What more proof do you want?

She invited us here for a visit.

And insisted we arrive at midnight.

Then she informed us she was going

to study us for a week.

Like rats or guinea pigs.

She had every reason to kill Garson.

Because he wanted to put her

where she belonged, in an asylum.

- I demand that you arrest her.

- Now, hold on.

Aunt Cassie's been doing queer things around

these parts as long as I can remember.

But she ain't crazy.

The court's just decided that.

And I'm arresting nobody

till I've got proof.

You fool! You're protecting

a murderess.

Tom, take me home. I'll not stay

in this house another minute.

Oh, yes you will.

Nobody's leaving Greylock

till I apprehend the killer.

Tom, take me to my room.

You all heard what I said.

Nobody's leaving the grounds

till this crime's cleared up.

I'll have men guard the place

day and night.

That's all for now.

Well, what about me?

I live next door.

You can go home.

My men will keep an eye on you.

Maybe after you get unpacked you'd

kinda like to talk this case over...

...before the coroner gets here.

Thanks, Sheriff, I'll be glad to.

Sutton, see that the press

is made comfortable.

Yes, ma'am.

Come, Mary.

I don't like this, Sherlock.

I'm scared stiff.

Chin up, Watson.

Come in.

- Hiya, honey, you all unpacked?

- Just about.

Charming old place, don't you think?

Yes, wonderful view from that window.

- Have a look?

- Yeah?

- I told you the view was wonderful.

- Yeah, but the murderer used a knife.

Well, maybe the next victim

will be poisoned.

Listen, darling, don't let this thing

get you. There won't be any more murders.

Come on, let's go down and

kid us with the sheriff.

Hi, Sheriff, any fingerprints?

No, can't find any. Take a look.

Oh, thanks.

- Do you see any?

- Come on, Sheriff.

Give me a shot of you holding

the knife.

A little higher.

Hold it!

Thank you.

Has the corpus delicti been

removed yet?

No, it's still in the library where

the coroner left it.

The undertaker's coming from

the village.

- Do you mind if I take a look at it?

- No, come on.

Thank... You'd better stay here,

this is not for you.

I'm a newspaperman, I can take it.

Hey, wait a minute.

That ain't Garson Denham.

You're right, Sheriff, that's

Larry Denham.

But he sure is a corpus delictus.

Bob, look!

Whoever knocked him off must

have come in the window.

You're a smart fellow.

No signs of anybody.

I'm going to round up everybody

and question them.

They can't do this to me.

Killing a man in broad daylight

and I'm right in the next room.

Well, here we go again,

Miss Denham.

What's happened? Have they found

the murderer?

Well, if he has, my bath water's

getting cold for nothing.

Be quiet!

What were you doing for the

last half hour?

I was transplanting a tree

near the entrance gate.

Deputy Judkins was with me.

That's right, Sheriff.

- What about you?

- I was greasing a car in the garage.

You look it.

- What were you doing?

- I was making apple pies.

And I'll never be done for dinner

at this rate.

- You got an alibi?

- I was counting the laundry.

The cook saw me.

And what were you doing?

I was spraying roses in my garden.

That's what he was doing, Sheriff,

I saw him mix the spray.

So did I. Poison.

I always use poison in my rose spray.

It's certain death to insects.

- Where were you, Miss Cassie?

- I was running my bath.

What's the matter?

I left the water running,

it'll ruin everything!

You stay right here.

One of you boys run upstairs and turn

off Miss Cassie's bath water.

Sit down.

Anybody with you while you

were drawing this bath?

- Yes, I was.

- Oh.

For a moment I thought I had something.

And I was walking in the garden

by the summer house.

You didn't walk by the library

by any chance, did you?

Yes, yes, I did, why?

Oh, just idle curiosity.

Anybody see you taking this walk?

I was watching him all the time, Sheriff.

He never got out of my sight.

- Well, Sheriff, that's that.

- It sure is.

- How about you, Mrs. Denham?

- I was lying down trying to rest.

Where's Larry?

Sheriff, where's Larry?

Well... you see, um...

- Larry's not here.

- Yeah, you're right, ma'am, he ain't.

He's dead.

Dead?

You mean... you mean Larry's

been murdered?

Yes, not only that...

...somebody stole the other

corpus delicti.

I told you to arrest her.

I warned you this thing would happen.

The woman is mad. She'll kill us all.

Larry! My poor Larry!

What do I do now?

Well, did you call the coroner?

No. I plumb forgot it.

One of you boys call the coroner

right away.

That's all for now.

What I said about nobody leaving

the grounds still goes.

Come on, Mary.

Alright, boys, keep an eye outside.

What do you folks make of this?

They've all got alibis.

I'm beginning to think maybe I did it.

If you did, you're holding out

on your paper.

- You haven't phoned in your story yet.

- That's right, I haven't.

Proving you're a columnist,

not a reporter.

Now look, mister.

Let's get out of this funny house

and go back to New York.

They'll be dancing in 52nd St. tonight...

...while we're playing tag

with a knife-thrower.

You got a fair start with your column with

readers from New York to Shanghai, China.

- Why take a chance?

- Relax, beautiful.

No one's gonna harm me, I'm the

handsome young juvenile in this story.

He never gets hurt.

Now you be a good girl,

get the editor on the phone and give him

enough stuff for a flash bulletin.

Tell him I'll send him a follow-up

story in an hour.

- Okay.

- Swell.

Say, um, Sheriff...

Do you suppose we can do a little

snooping in the library there...

...before the coroner gets here?

I guess it'd be alright if we

don't disturb nothing.

Swell.

It's gone!

There ain't no corpus delicti!

Things are now beginning to conform

to a pattern.

What are you talking about?

There comes a time in every

murder mystery...

...when all of the corpus delicti

are missing.

It generally happens just past

the middle of the picture.

I know how you feel, pal,

this thing's got me stumped too.

But we'll both keep trying,

we'll figure out together, eh pal?

Yes, sir, the law always catches up

with the guilty party.

Leave Greylock at once or you will die.

Better come out of there

or I'll shoot!

- Sheriff!

- Mr. White, your shirt!

Never mind my shirt!

I've just found the bodies.

- Where?

- They're all in a closet in my room!

Lead the way!

Where are the bodies?

I don't see anyone.

- Where have they gone?

- Are you sure you're not ill?

You got a bottle you've been

holding out on me?

I tell you they were right there!

I came in from that bathroom

and the statue was gone.

There was a note there saying, "You leave

Greylock at once or you will die"."

I rushed to the door and it was locked.

I looked at the key and saw

it was turned.

So I knew there was somebody inside

this room, so I went to the window there...

and it was locked. So...

- I grabbed my pistol out of that drawer...

- Then what?

And I pointed it right at the door

and said, "Come out of there or I'll shoot".

But they didn't come out.

So I went over to the door like this...

And I pulled it wide open!

Here they are again.

Who's crazy now, huh?

Give me time and I'll find out who stole

that statue and wrote that note too.

I don't care anything about

statues and notes.

Somebody call the coroner and

the undertaker.

I've got me two corpus delictises...

...and by golly nobody's gonna

take them away from me.

Sheriff, don't you think you ought

to let my relatives go home?

If the whole family is killed off,

there'll be nobody to inherit my money.

Sorry, Miss Cassie, nobody leaves

till I find the killer.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

I'll bet you a pretty penny there'll be more

killings before this thing is over.

Come, Mary.

Ten o'clock, in time for the last

minute news in flashes.

Ben Brian, New York.

Sheriff William Boggs, in charge of the

investigation of two murders...

...which occurred during the past

24 hours at Greylock,

the lovely mountain estate of

Miss Cassandra Denham,

issued a statement an hour ago predicting

early apprehension of the killer.

Several important clues have been

unearthed, the sheriff declared.

Detroit, Michigan. Pickets picketed

pickets today when...

Oh, you've got new clues,

eh, Sheriff?

Well... not exactly, but...

after all, I've got the

corpus delictises.

- But nothing else.

- No... but I've got the place guarded.

Not a soul can get passed my

men going or coming.

Good evening, everybody.

I was taking my usual walk

in the garden.

I thought I'd drop in and see if there

was anything I could do.

Didn't any of my men stop you

on the way in?

Why, no.

I saw no one.

Your deputies are regular

watchdogs, sheriff.

They'll be bloodhounds when I get

through dressing them down.

Well, I think I'll get a little shut-eye,

as you say in your column.

- Good night, everybody.

- Good night.

- I'll accompany you to the stairs.

- All right.

Cassie.

Is there anything you want

to tell me?

- No.

- Remember...

I'll always stand by you.

Don't overdo it.

Good night.

Good night.

That sweet little soul who just left

gives me the jiving jitters.

I wonder who she'll kill next.

Here, you cut that out,

you're jumpy as a pogo stick.

- She's not a killer.

- How do you know she isn't?

Because she's not strong enough

to shuffle the bodies...

...of two full-grown men around

like a set of indian clubs.

Well, I guess you're right.

How about a breath of fresh air

before we turn in?

- I need it.

- How about you, Ed?

No, thanks, night air irritates my throat

unless it's in nighclubs.

I'll grab a couple of shots of the chamber

of horrors while you're gone.

That room fascinates me.

Hey!

Oh, it's you!

- Did you get a good picture?

- I never miss.

That's fine.

If they look anything like me,

I'll buy a dozen.

Well, that is, if the price is right.

Look, Miss Cassie, are you nuts?

The law says I'm not.

Then why are you wandering

about in a subway?

Looking for a new victim, I betcha.

- You think I'm a murderess?

- If you ain't, why are you here?

- Can you keep a secret?

- I'm a newspaperman.

- Answer my question!

- Sure I can keep a secret.

Follow me.

Come on, come on.

I don't suppose you've seen many

ten thousand dollar banknotes...

...in your day, have you?

Ten thousand dollar banknotes?

Look, Miss Cassie, I'm lucky to cash

my beepers on a double sawbuck,

meaning potatoes, meaning dollars to you.

Well, here are two hundred of them.

Two million in currency

and a million in securities.

I want you to hold all of them

for me for safekeeping.

Me, carry three million dollars

around with me?

Lady, now I know you're crazy.

No, I'm wise. Whoever's committing

the murders is after my money.

And it's someone who suspects

I keep it in the library.

Otherwise, why would Garson and Larry

be murdered in the library?

- Sounds reasonable.

- It is reasonable.

But if you keep the money and the securities

hidden safely in your camera case,

no one will suspect

and I won't tell a soul.

Because you might be murdered too.

No, no, you find yourself another boy,

it ain't worth the risk!

Oh, yes it is, because when

the murderer is apprehended,

I'm going to give you one of

these nice, crisp banknotes.

You mean... you really mean I get

ten thousand dollars?

- Yes.

- Aunt Cassie, you made a deal.

Have you any idea who

the killer might be?

Oh, I hope it isn't the one I suspect.

- Who's that?

- My neighbor.

Trowbridge Montrose.

- You mean the flower smeller?

- Yes.

He's been in love with me for years.

I get it. A short engagement, huh?

Oh, we're not engaged.

I can't make up my mind.

Don't worry, you'll get around to it.

What makes you think he's the killer?

Because he was furious when my relatives

tried to put me in the insane asylum.

He cracked his knuckles.

And every time he does that

I know he's furious.

He wanted to give them a dose

of his rose spray.

You mean the poison that he kills

the bugs with?

Yes.

Oh, I do hope the next murder isn't

by poison. My mind would be relieved.

- Next murder?

- Oh, yes.

There will be other murders.

Goodbye.

Oh, boy, this thing's got me stymied.

- Let's sit down.

- Okay.

It's a cinch it's not Aunt Cassie,

she couldn't lug bodies around.

Neither could Martha Denham...

...nor Garson Denham's widow.

Or that niece that lives with

the old lady.

Then it must be a man.

How about Tom?

Oh, Tom, he doesn't strike me as a boy

who'd kill his father and his cousin.

- Somebody's coming.

- Hm?

Good evening.

- Oh... hello.

- Good evening.

Not very sociable, are they?

What did you expect them to do,

sit in your lap?

Oh, stop snapping at me, O'Brien.

Sorry.

You were eliminating suspects.

Well, the butler's out.

He's an old family retainer.

So's Katie the cook.

Fat people seldom commit murder.

But cooks do use knives.

Oh, not knives, antique knives,

two hundred years old.

Well, there's still the chauffeur

and the gardener.

And Mr. Trowbridge Montrose.

Montrose, Monty wouldn't hurt a fly.

I don't know about that.

When he talked about spraying bugs,

he had an unholy look in his eyes.

- Now, let's take the gardener.

- You take him.

All he wants is to be left alone.

- Well, there's still the chauffeur.

- He's out too.

He was asleep over the garage

when Garson Denham was killed...

...and under a car when Larry got it.

- But then who is the murderer?

- I don't know.

Maybe it's the little man that turns out

the light in electric iceboxes.

Very funny.

All on account of Aunt Cassie's money.

If only she'd distributed it where

it'd do some good,

there wouldn't have been any murders.

Why, Tommy, you sound like you begrudge

Aunt Cassie her money.

I do...

- He's dead.

- Who did it?

I don't know.

We were sitting here talking when...

all of a sudden he groaned and...

...then I heard someone run away.

Come on, Bud, let's have a look around.

We'd better go in the house.

Hey, somebody over by

that big tree.

Nobody here.

- He didn't climb up.

- Yeah, but we saw him go behind the tree.

Maybe he kept right on going

with the tree between him and us.

Hm, maybe you're right.

Well, I guess that's that.

I'll see you later.

Come on, let's go.

Oh, it's you.

Well, who'd you think it was?

Hey, suppose you tell me what you're

doing sneaking around this time of night.

I'm not sneaking around this

time of night,

I'm taking that can of oil to Michael

in the garage.

Oh, yeah? Well, come on, let's see

what Michael knows about this?

Come on.

Anybody here?

Yeah!

- Do you want something?

- Did you send this fellow for a can of oil?

Sure I did, what about it?

Well, for your information,

there's been another murder.

- Someone just killed Tommy Denham.

- Young Tommy?

That's why I tackled you in the garden.

Ah, wouldn't you know it.

Well, I guess we might as well

start for the house.

The sheriff will want to question

everybody again.

You know, if these murders don't stop,

I'm never gonna get that car greased.

Oh, that's gonna be tough.

It's the same thing all over again.

Everybody was everywhere else except

where the murder was committed.

Somebody's lying. Somebody in this room

murdered three men.

How long are you going to go on being

a fool? You know she's the guilty one!

I almost wish you were right.

I'd confess and get it over with.

It's all because of my money.

If I thought I could expose the murderer,

I'd destroy Greylock and all

my wealth this minute.

- Cassie, what are you saying?

- I mean it.

Sheriff, I wonder if I could have a word

with Miss Cassie alone.

- Sure, go on.

- Thanks, Sheriff.

Miss Cassie, would you mind stepping

into the library just for a moment?

Not at all.

- Miss Cassie, you missed your calling.

- What are you talking about?

You could have been the great

American Bernhardt.

Oh, that was a great act

you put on out there.

Come on, give.

What's your angle?

You're a young smart Alec,

aren't you?

Don't stall me, you've got

something on your mind.

- What is it?

- Well, to tell you the truth,

I've been toying with a surefire plan

to trap the murderer.

How?

I've been living in this museum piece

for sixty-five years.

I'm sort of tired of it.

It's sliding panels, and hidden

passages give me the horrors.

Sliding panels, hidden passages?

The place is honeycombed with them.

The old shack was a headquarters for the

colonial spies during the revolutionary war.

And a station for an underground

railroad during the Civil War.

I tell you, Mr. White,

every time you touch a wall in this place

it's liable to jump at you.

Yeah...

Yeah... then...

...maybe the murderer is hiding in

one of those secret passages now.

He might be.

But if he isn't, my plan is still good.

I'm going to set fire to Greylock.

You're gonna do what?

I'm going to burn the old shack down.

You see, whoever the killer is,

he or she is after my money.

Until today, I had three million in cash

and securities hidden in this house.

Today I removed it.

Your photographer has hidden it

in his camera case.

You... You mean to say

that Eddie's got...

three million dollars carried

around with him... in his camera case?

Yes.

If your money is safe, Miss Cassie,

why burn the place down?

Because the murderer will give himself away

if he thinks the money's going up in smoke.

The house means nothing to me.

For sixty-five years it's had me

hanging on the ropes.

I learned that bit of slang

reading your column.

But listen, that's arson.

Arson?

No, it isn't.

I have no insurance.

I'm not cheating anybody.

I'm just lighting a bonfire to take

a great load off my shoulders.

Oh, but it seems such a shame

to destroy such a lovely old place.

Oh, pishantosh!

If I don't burn it down, we'll all find

ourselves in the cemetery.

Besides, the upkeep of the

old shack is terrific.

What do you say?

Will you help me?

Well... okay. What's the setup?

You get everybody outside

on some pretext.

Leave the rest to me.

Keep your eyes open.

And the first one who makes a break

for the house is the murderer.

So long, Mr. White.

Hey, what do you mean "so long"?

- Keep your eyes open.

- I certainly wi...

So long, Mr. White.

Why should we be hurried out here

at this hour of the night?

Where's Aunt Cassie?

Calm yourself and don't

ask questions.

Hey, look!

- Oh, what is it, what's happened?

- What does this mean?

Don't get excited,

I set it on fire.

- I told you she was crazy.

- What are you doing, Cassie?

Don't you worry about anything.

But your money.

Your money is in there.

Yes, I know it.

It'll be destroyed.

I'm glad of it.

Money is a curse.

A curse that brings evil.

Keep your eyes open for the break.

You can't destroy it!

It's mine!

Mine, I tell you!

I've lived with you, put up with your

strictness, pretended to love you,

knowing that one day it would be mine.

Oh, I hated you.

Yet I pretended to love you...

...knowing that some day you would die

and your money would be mine.

Then when the others stepped,

in I killed.

Yes, Michael and I murdered so that

one day it would all be mine,

- I would your only heir!

- Shut up!

Tie her up!

Don't kill him!

- He's my husband!

- Your husband?

What are you talking about?

We've been married over a year.

Oh, don't let them kill him!

Don't, please don't.

- Take her to the village.

- Come on.

- Where is he?

- I swear he dashed behind this tree.

- I saw him too.

- So did I.

Come on.

How come you're not playing Daniel Boone

with the sheriff and his boys?

It's not quite time for the

marines to move in.

- Are the marines coming?

- They're practically here.

Folks, follow me, I'm about

to catch a killer.

Come on, folks, help me get this car

out of the grease pit.

Stand back, folks, I may have

to do a liitle shooting.

- What is this?

- Quiet.

Here he comes now.

Hey!

Come on, get out of there and keep

your hands in the air.

Hey, where'd you find him?

Popped out of a hole in the

ground just like that.

Thanks for tipping me off about

those secret passages.

I figured there must be one near

that big tree in the garden...

...after our friend here did that neat

disappearence act earlier in the evening.

Take him away, Sheriff.

March!

Trowbridge.

Will you marry me?

- Cassie, do you mean it?

- Of course I do.

I've got to live somewhere now

that Greylock's no more.

Maybe we can wake up Judge Hoskins

and get hitched tonight.

Darling!

Love is in the air.

Come on.

Here's your money, Miss Cassie.

And if it's all the same to you, I'll have

my ten Gs at this moment.

Here you are. You've earned it.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh...

Hey... Hey!

Hey, this is Confederate money!

It ain't worth a penny!

I guess I forget to tell you all.

I'm one of the Denhams of Virginia.

From the deep South.

Trowbridge, darling, you have enough real

money for both of us, haven't you?

- Ample, my pet.

- You'd better have.

You've been taking care of the old shack

and all my relatives for twenty years.

Well, what do we do now?

I don't know what you're

gonna do, brother, but...

I'm gonna do this.

Okay.

Hold it!

The Hays Office ain't gonna

like that long kiss.

- Subtitles -

Lu?s Filipe Bernardes