Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955–1962): Season 1, Episode 28 - Portrait of Jocelyn - full transcript

Mark Halliday takes his wife to an art gallery, to show her a painting he has purchased for their first anniversary. But instead of the painting he had seen, he is given a portrait of his first wife Jocelyn, who disappeared five years ago. Both he and his new wife are shocked and upset, so Halliday shows the portrait to Jocelyn's brother, who locates the artist for him. When Halliday goes in search of the artist, he encounters further coincidences and confusing developments, suggesting that Jocelyn is living very close by.

What an extraordinary thumb.

It completely obscures
the subject I'm painting.

I used to paint
along the roadside.

But I had to quit. Motorists
insisted on giving me rides.

Hold that pose.

Remain perfectly still
for the next half hour.

Care to see my handiwork?
I have several canvases ready.

Or, if you like something
more exotic...

It's French, and of course...

I'm sorry, sir,
but we're closed.

Now wait a minute,
I was in this morning...

I spoke to Mr. Harrison about a
painting, and made a payment on it.

I'm Mark Halliday.
This is Mrs. Halliday.

How do you do?
How do you do?

I am sorry, sir, but you'll
have to come back-

I brought Mrs. Halliday all the way
downtown just to make sure she likes it.

It's our anniversary.

First anniversary. This is
a little present for her.

It won't be the same tomorrow.
Don't you see? Please?

Come on.

Let's see,
it was number 128.

So would you mind
getting it for us, please?

Yes, sir. I'll be right back. Thanks.


What a fine, round, high-sounding
name to hang over our mantel.

Think so?

What did your husband give you, for
your first anniversary, Mrs. Halliday?

A 128 to hang over my mantel.

Tell me, darling,
what is it?

No, let me guess.

All right, go ahead.

Van Gogh's ear.

All right, I give up.

Mark, I don't care
what it is.

Just as long
as you picked it out.

Okay, let's celebrate
at home tonight.

We'll open a bottle of
champagne. We'll hang 128 over...


I said 128. You made a
mistake. No, this is it, sir.

Well that's not the painting
I saw this morning.

It's 128. See for yourself.
I don't see the joke, Mark.

Debbie, wait a minute.
No, let me-

Debbie, I never saw that
painting before in my life.

There must be
some explanation.

Who put you up to that?
Put me up to what?

Where did you get that?
Back there.

How'd it get back there?

I don't know, sir. You'll
have to ask Mr. Harrison.

Would you like
to leave it here, sir?

I'll have
Mr. Harrison call you.

No. I'll take it with me.

Is it Jocelyn?
I don't know, Mark.

You ought to know
your own sister.

You know her better than I do.
You were married to her.

It certainly looks
like Jocelyn.

Of course,
she could have a double.

Let's see,
when was it she disappeared?

April, four years ago,
wasn't it?

Five. Five years ago
last month.

I had hoped
you would be over it by now.

I thought I was.

Newspaper clippings, magazine
stories, I've kept them all.

I finally had a letter
from the detectives, you know.

Told me they
were getting nowhere.

Jocelyn had dropped out of
sight, without leaving a trace.

She's unforgettable,
isn't she? I'm sorry.

She's a little older
than I remember her.

Shows around the eyes.

We're all
a little older, Mark.

Hey, look!

Here are the initials
and the date.

September, 19-
That was three years ago.

It must have been done
before she went to Europe.

I don't know, Mark
- Wait a minute. What do you mean, Europe?

Forget it.

What do you mean?

I wasn't going to mention it. It
doesn't make any difference now, I guess.

I had a letter from her.

Couple of years ago.
She was in Switzerland.

Where is it?
I burned it.

What did you do that for? I
didn't want you to know, Mark.

You'd divorced her
for desertion.

She wasn't the right person for you.
And you'd found someone who was, Debbie.

So I kept it quiet. Where
in Switzerland was she?

St. Moritz.
What's she doing there?

I wish this hadn't come
up, Mark. Never mind that.

Did she say anything about me? No.

there was someone else.

She doesn't love you, Mark.
She never did.

I guess you're right.

She never did.

Dinner ready?

It's on the table.

I'm hungry.
Want me to carve?

All right.

What's that doing there?

I thought
it was very appropriate.

There's no reason
to hide it behind the sofa.

She's been looking
over my shoulder-

Debbie, please.
I can do without hysterics.

If that's what it is,
I can't help it!

She's been in the house with
us ever since our marriage.

She's in your mind
when you kiss me-

Stop it!

I'm sorry.

Oh, Mark. So am I.

I couldn't help it.

I showed that painting
to Jeff.

He's almost certain
it's Jocelyn.

He said he'd got
a letter from her.


Two years ago.

She was in Switzerland.

Has he seen her?

No. Nobody's seen her.

It's a great waste.
She was born to be seen.

I remember the first time
I saw her...

at the beach at Shell Harbor,
in the rain.

That old yellow slicker,
thrown over her shoulders.

That scarf
tied around her head...

glowing, radiant.

Her hair, her skin,
her eyes...

She didn't even look wet.
Can we change the subject?

Yes, of course.
Let's eat.

I'll return that painting
tomorrow morning.

Hello? Jeff.

Yes, what about it? Who?

Clymer. C-L-Y-M-E-R.

Mr. Harrison says he's an amateur
painter, shows a lot of promise.

He brought in
the picture last week.

Harrison doesn't know how
it got mixed up with yours.

Are you sure about that?

Seems a strange coincidence,
but that's what the man said.

Think we should go up there
and look around?

I'll let you know.
Thanks, Jeff. Goodbye.

Who was it?
It was about the painting.

It was done by a man named
Clymer. He lives in Shell Harbor.

What are you going to do about it? Nothing.

You shouldn't have
married me, Mark.

Don't start that again-

It's true. She still has a hold on
you. You're still in love with her.

Shut up!

You're still in love her.
You want her back.

Debbie, as far
as I'm concerned, she's dead.

Suppose she isn't?

Suppose she's living
in Shell Harbor right now.

All right, let's settle it
once and for all.

Go pack your things. We're
going up to Shell Harbor.


Hotel's closed. Both motel
people went to Florida.

I found that out. I suppose
you don't have anything, either.

How long you gonna be here,
a day, a week?

I don't know.

I got just one left. $10 a day,
$60 a week, one day in advance.

Good, I'll take it.

Willman cottage in the cove.

Are you sure
that's all you've got?

You'll like it, all right.
Beautiful setting.

I'll have the utilities
turned on right away.

Are you positive there's
nothing else available?

That's the only place in town,
mister. Nice comfortable place, too.

You can take it from me, the
Willman cottage is one of the-

I know all about
the Willman cottage.

I lived there...

five years ago.

There's no electricity.


The man from the power company
will be over right away.

What do you think?
About what?

Does it look the same?

I told you, nothing ever
changes around here.

Did you ask the real
estate man about Mr. Clymer?

No, I didn't.

Why not?

Because I thought it was more
important to have a roof over our heads.

It's getting late, and this
is the last place in town.

You don't have
to take my head off.

I'm sorry.

That's interesting.
What is?


They're fresh.

Lily of the valley.

Weren't they Jocelyn's
favorite flowers?


How did she do it,
I wonder?

Throw an old slicker over her
shoulders, and a scarf over her head...

and look like
a magazine cover.

Take those off!

How long since
you've stayed here with her?

These can't be hers. They are
hers. I can see her in them now.

Are you trying to tell me they've been
hanging in the closet for five years?

She's been staying here, Mark.
She's in this town right now.

That's ridiculous.

Oh, Mark.

Mark, darling, stop trying to
protect her. Why don't you face it?

What she did to you isn't enough.
Now she's going to ruin us, too.

You know that's nonsense.
You know it's true.

It isn't true!
I don't believe she's here.

I feel kind of foolish running
around town, asking people...

It's her, isn't it?

Glad I found you in.

I heard you people had taken
this house. I'm Arthur Clymer.

May I come in?

Of course.
Thank you.

I'm Mark Halliday.
This is my wife.

How do you do?

I'm a neighbor of yours,
up on the point.

I remembered this morning I'd
left a few things down here.

Thought I'd better stop by and pick
them up. I hope I'm not intruding.

No, not at all.

You, you don't mind, then,
if I take that back with me?

Go ahead.
Thank you.

I'm pretty proud of this.

Like a mother
with her firstborn, in a way.

This is my first attempt
at sculpture.

When did you do this?
Couple of months ago.

I was living here at the time,
thanks to the Willmans.

It's a nice piece of work.
Thank you.

Did you use a model for that? Yes, my wife.

Is her name Jocelyn?
Why, yes, you know her?

I did once.

Then you must come and
see us. Just a minute.

Don't these belong to her?

They look familiar.
I didn't realize she'd-

Mark, why don't you walk home with
Mr. Clymer and carry these for him?

I can take them.

I'm sure Mark would be
happy to, wouldn't you, Mark?

Not just now, Debbie.
Some other time.

It isn't far.
I said not now.

Here, let me take them.

Come see us when you feel
up to it, Halliday. Night.

That's the first cowardly
thing I've ever seen you do.


I was just walking along the ocean,
saw your light, thought I'd...

Sure. And you thought to yourself,
"I'll drop in on old Clymer.

"Charming man, brilliant
conversationalist, wonderful company...

"and there's a bare chance
his wife is home."

Jocelyn, bless her.

Where is she?

Just like the rest of them,
aren't you, Halliday?

Took one look at the statue,
decided you had to see the original.

Look, Clymer-
Don't apologize.

You're no different
from the rest of them.

You want to see her,
don't you? Okay.


Jocelyn, we have company.

Jocelyn, darling!
Come on down for a minute.

You thought she'd come
down these stairs, didn't you?

Where is she?
What happened to her?

Happened to her? Nothing
could ever happen to Jocelyn.

Have a drink.

Come on, have a drink with me,
come on.

Sorry to disappoint you,

She hasn't been around
for quite a while.


Where did she go?
Bless her little heart.

She loves me madly, you know,
writes me letters nearly every day.

Come on, drink up,
it's good wine.

There, that's better.

I asked you where she was?

I don't know.
I don't want to know.

The little cheat.

I'm getting tired of this,
Clymer. What happened to Jocelyn?

She's gone.
Where is she?

I told you I don't know.

You said something
about letters. Where are they?

You're lying, Clymer.
Where is she?

All right.

All right.

You want to know
where she is?

I'll tell you. She's dead.

How did she die?
How does one die?

an interesting question.

Someday when the breath
leaves the body...

there, there's death.

But it's also true we live
suspended in each others' minds.

So perhaps there is no death.

What happened to Jocelyn?

That's a complicated story, and
it's getting late. Some other time.

Right now.

She was such
a thrilling woman.

You've seen her face.

To kiss that face...

to have her always
by your side.

To know she was mine, to love,
to kiss, to hold.

Yet never mine completely.

Jocelyn could never belong
to anybody but herself.

No one, no man on Earth
could possess her, really.

Where is she?

I'll show you.

I'll show you.


Come on.

Her grave is right outside.

Over there,
near the edge of the cliff.

You mean
she's over there?

You're out of your mind.

She isn't over there.
She can't be.

I can't take it anymore.

What do you mean? I'm
tired of carrying it around.

I have to tell someone.

Jocelyn. Jocelyn!

I had to get away from her.
Couldn't take it anymore.

I left her in New York,
and came up here.

Took the cottage alone
for a couple of weeks, alone.

As if I could ever live
without her.

One night she came up.

Didn't tell anybody she
was coming, least of all me.

I heard the door open,
looked up. There she was.

No, you didn't. You're lying.

There was another man,
always another man.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I don't remember
what happened.

She was there, talking to me,
laughing at me.

Telling me
she wanted a divorce.

The next thing I remember,
she was lying at my feet.

That's what happened.

But you weren't there.

No one was there
but Jocelyn and me.

How do you know
I killed her?

How did you know?


Mark. Get up.


How did he know?

How did he know?

We didn't know.
We had to guess.

I told him how
I thought it happened, Mark.

With five years under the
bridge, and no witnesses...

we had to resort
to psychology.

I'm sorry, Halliday.

It was a brutal thing to do
to you. We had to do it.

Who are you?
My name's Iverson.

Detective Inspector, Homicide.

And you made the painting.

And the sculpture.

And arranged for the cottage.

And she isn't
buried over there?


She was found
where you buried her.

There was a landslide
there about a month ago.

A piece of the cliff slumped
off. Fishermen found her.

When the laboratory
reported who it was...

we knew you did it.
But we had to have proof.

Did Debbie know?

That's something, anyway.

She was right. I never
should have married her.

There never could be
anybody like Jocelyn.

And so Mark Halliday...

finally found the bluebird
of happiness.

It had been there
all the time.

In any
theatrical presentation...

the next-to-closing spot...

is deemed
the most advantageous.

That explains the placement
of this number...

in tonight's variety show.

Bravo, Bravo.

That was a real showstopper...

in every sense of the word.

Now I see
there is just time enough...

for me to wish you
pleasant dreams.

And a happy analysis.

Good night.