Perry Mason (1957–1966): Season 3, Episode 17 - The Case of the Mythical Monkeys - full transcript

Hello. Anybody home?

Please. Inside
there. I need help.

What the devil do you want?

Sorry, mister. But my
car's stuck up the road.

Sorry too, but I can't help you.

Please, mister. Have a heart.

Just... Just let me
use your telephone.

I haven't either a
heart or a telephone,

so I suggest you...

I guess you'd better
step inside after all.

Oh, it's colder in
here than it is outside.



Say, why did you give me
such a funny look out there?

As though you recognized
me or something?

I thought maybe I did.

Say, you couldn't
be, by any chance,

the man I was supposed to meet?

I hardly think so.

Well, does the name Mauvis
Meade mean anything to you?

The lady novelist?

Don't tell me you're
Mauvis Meade?

No, I'm her secretary,

Gladys Doyle.

I was supposed to pick
up a package for her

from a man in a cabin
somewhere up here.

Isn't 3 in the morning



an odd time to be
running errands...

even for lady novelists?

Well, not for Mauvis Meade.

Anyway, if I hadn't
gotten lost and then stuck,

I'd be home by now.

You never found the
cabin you were looking for?

No. I had a map.

But it was raining so hard,

all I found was a mudhole...

and you and a case of pneumonia.

Why don't you use the bedroom

and strip off as much
as you think advisable,

and... bring your
clothes out here to dry.

Well, what about my car?

I'll take a look at it

as soon as it
begins to get light.

In the meantime, I'll
heat up some coffee.

Whew.

Boy, I must look like a mess.

Hair like a wet mop
and a face like...

Hey. Where are you?

Oh, no.

Oh.

I always wondered where you
kept your valuables, Mauvis.

Only it appears I've found
out just a little too late.

Too late, my eye.

I know who did
this, Gregory. You.

Oh, my dear. I'm a lawyer.

I may break wills and contracts,

but hardly ever into the
apartments of clients,

even if they leave
keys in the lock.

If you didn't do
it, you had it done.

I deny that.

But what's it matter, after
all? The damage is done.

They're all gone now.

The names, the places,
the times, the dates,

the photostats, the
photographs. All the little things

you like to use for
insurance policies, Mauvis.

I'll get more.

Do you really think
that would be wise?

Ah, you know something, Gregory?

Three years ago, when
I was a mousy hack...

writing for the
confession magazines...

I used to dream of this...

This, uh...

This lovely apartment...

bestselling novel, huge
motion-picture sale,

fame, money...

to burn.

Now I'd give just about anything

to be that mousy hack again.

Which, of course, is
exactly what you would be

if you hadn't met me.

That was my unlucky day.

How do you plan
to explain this, uh...?

This mess to the maids
and the apartment manager?

Burglars, I suppose.

Which means, of course,
you'll have to call the police.

So before you do, I'll just take

that package and clear out.

I haven't got it. I didn't
go to the cabin last night.

Why not?

Well, because, uh...

Because something
happened, and I...

That's Gladys.

Your secretary?

Get rid of her, will you?

Oh. I know it's only
8:00, Miss Meade,

but instead of going home,
I came straight here becau...

What in the world happened?

I don't know. Thieves, I guess.

I just got here myself.

Look, what in the
world happened to you?

And where's the package?

Well, I never found
the right cabin.

First, I got lost.

And then when I did hit
the right road, I got stuck.

And then I found a dead man.

A dead man?

In a cabin I went to for help.

He'd been shot. I...

I don't know whether
he'd done it himself

or whether someone else had.

Well, what did
this man look like?

Well, he was a dark man...

in his forties.

An attractive man, Miss Meade.

He... He looked
like one of those men

you'd see hanging
around gambling joints or...

Or nightclubs.

What did you do
when you found him?

I got out of there, fast.

You notify the police?

You're the first one I've told.

Gladys, let me have
this from the beginning.

Well, I left the Summit Inn

at a quarter past 12,

just like you told me.

And I went to that road.

Dukes Lawton, please.

Gregory Dunkirk.
Tell him it's important.

Oh, I'm sorry about the
package, Miss Meade,

but all I could think about

was getting as far away
from there as I could.

Well, the package will keep.

Well, what should I
do about the body?

Well, my first thought
is to forget about it.

Look, why don't you go
home, get out of these clothes,

and then we'll discuss
the pros and cons.

Well, you're sure you
won't need me here...?

No, I'm sure I won't need you.

And you, uh...

You'd better get yourself
some breakfast too.

That was Joseph Manley
she was describing...

wasn't it?

Well, shouldn't you
shed a tear or two?

My tears are for the package.

I wonder if she could be
lying about not having it.

Oh, I've already
made arrangements

to find out about that.

Now, good morning, Perry.

Why, sure. We work hand in glove

with the county authorities.

A body? Where?

Yes, I know the Summit Inn.

Scenic shortcut to
the main highway.

Yeah, about six and a
half miles to the junction.

The cabin on the
right, going up.

Yeah, well, how do you
happen to know all this?

Through a client, lieutenant.

Ah. Professional privilege.

Well, we'll look into it.

Yeah.

Well... now we can
go to work ourselves.

Did you want me, Perry?

Oh, yes, Paul.

Miss Doyle, this is Paul Drake.

The Drake Detective Agency.

How do you do,
Miss Doyle? Hello.

Paul, Miss Doyle is
employed by Mauvis Meade,

the woman who wrote "Chop
the Man Down." Mm-hm.

Yesterday, Miss Meade

sent her to the Summit Inn,

to substitute for Miss Meade

in an interview with a
writer named Edgar Carlisle,

who apparently is connected
with Screentime Magazine.

Della, see if Edgar Carlisle
is in the telephone book.

Well, after the interview,

and still following her
employer's instructions...

she left the Summit
Inn a little after midnight

for a cabin, where
she was to meet a man

who had a package
for Miss Meade.

Only I got lost and then stuck.

While she was
trying to find her way,

she came across a lighted cabin.

In the cabin, a young man
who seemed to recognize her.

And was it the right cabin?

Oh. We're not sure.

While she was there,
the young fellow vanished.

In one of the bedrooms,
she found a dead man,

a revolver on the
floor beside him.

Homicide?

Well, Tragg will have
to determine that.

In the meantime, send one of

your men up to the cabin.

Check over everything up there:

ownership, the people
who visited there...

and the identity
of the dead man.

All right.

And have a check
run on Mauvis Meade.

Well, if she's anything
like the picture

on the back of her
book, that'll be a pleasure.

Have you read the book?

No, but I hear it's pretty sexy.

And the scoop is
that the main plot,

about some bigtime
tax-dodging operators,

was supplied by Miss
Meade's great and good friend,

Gregory Dunkirk.

The lawyer?

Have a thorough
check run on him.

Perry... with Dunkirk's
underworld connections,

he's a pretty dangerous
guy to fool around with.

Hm.

So am I. So get going.

Yes?

My name is Mason.

Yes?

Mr. Carlisle here?

Mr. Carlisle?

Edgar Carlisle. He writes
for Screentime Magazine.

Edgar used to work for
Screentime Magazine.

He doesn't now?

Oh, no. Edgar's dead.

Dead?

You must have read it
in the obituary columns.

This morning?

Oh, no. Edgar passed
on two months ago

after a long illness.

I didn't know.

I'm sorry to have
disturbed you, Mrs. Carlisle.

Miss Carlisle. Edgar
was my brother.

Seem to have spent Sunday

being interviewed by a
dead man, Miss Doyle.

But he told me his
name was Edgar Carlisle.

And so did Miss Meade.

I'm not lying, Mr. Mason.
Honest, I'm not.

Never occurred to
me that you were.

I don't care what
you're selling!

I don't want to have
anything to do with you

or Edgar Carlisle,
or anyone else.

All I'm asking is
$1,000, Miss Meade.

Surely the information...

It isn't worth a penny.

I don't wanna get
mixed up in this.

Now, you get outta here,
and you leave me alone.

I'm sure if you think
it over, you'll recon...

Did you hear me?

I told you to get out of here.

Now, get out.

Get out. Get out!

Please. Please. N...
N-n-no violence. Please.

Get out!

Terrible woman, terrible temper.

I'll never help anybody
again. Never. Never.

Look, if you want a
broken hand, you...

You, uh, dropped
this, Miss Meade.

I threw it...

at an obnoxious little man

who was trying to
sell me something.

Well... now, who
might you be, stranger?

My name is Perry Mason.

Oh, yeah.

Retained by Gladys Doyle.

Well, come in.

Come in, Mr. Mason.

Uh... please sit down.

Can I get you a drink?

Oh, it's a...

trifle early for me.

Ha.

Me too, except on days

when people
ransack my apartment.

I suppose Gladys told you?

Anything of value missing?

Mm-mm.

No, just some, uh, clothes

and some costume jewelry.

Luckily, I had my
real jewels with me.

I, um... I hope you haven't come

to chide me, Mr. Mason.

I may just burst into tears.

Chide you for what, Miss Meade?

Well, for telling Gladys
to forget all about the, uh...

dead man she
claims to have found.

Why do you say
"claims to have found"?

Don't you believe her?

Now, I have no doubt that she
got stuck somewhere last night,

and she went to some, uh,

cabin or cottage or whatever

to, uh, ask somebody for help.

But I'm sure the, uh,

corpse was merely

some man asleep.

On the floor? With a
revolver beside him?

Um, you believe
her if you want to.

I will too, if it means
getting along with you.

You're, um...

an attractive man, Mr. Mason.

I'm a very hard-working
man, let's say.

Well, maybe it's time
you took a vacation.

Mm-mm. Not while
I'm representing a client.

Oh. Oh, yeah. I forgot.

It was, uh...

Gladys who brought you here,

not my charms.

All right, counselor,
I'm, uh, your witness.

Well, I'd like to know
something about that package

you, uh, wanted
Gladys to pick up for you.

Package? I didn't ask her

to pick up any package.

Did she say I did?

Let me ask you something else

before I answer that.

Did you, uh...

send Miss Doyle to the
Summit Inn yesterday?

Yes. To keep an
appointment with a writer

who wanted to do a story on me.

You never saw Edgar
Carlisle in person?

No. He telephoned.
And when I told him

that I usually spent
my weekends at the Inn,

he agreed to meet me there.

Only I sent Gladys.

She also says you
gave her instructions

to leave the inn
after midnight...

take a back road to a cabin,

and, there, pick up a package.

Well, now, Gladys' imagination

seems to be working overtime.

You didn't dictate

instructions to Miss Doyle,

mentioning the package,
and giving her directions,

from a map on which you'd
drawn a sketch of the cabin

and marked its location?

I told her about a shortcut

from the inn to the highway...

and I showed her a map
on which I'd marked it.

But there were no
cabins, I assure you.

Now, would you like
see that map, Mr. Mason?

Yes, I would like
to see that map.

Any luck?

It's around somewhere.

Ah. There it is.

What are you doing, Mr. Mason?

Just checking for wet ink.

I went as far as
the door with her,

and then I went
back to the drugstore

to pick up a few
things she'd forgotten.

And when I went back, I...

I rang and I knocked.

And no answer?

She just wasn't there, Perry.

Uh. I knocked loud
enough to wake a riveter.

You suppose we
should call the police?

Oh. Afternoon, Della, Perry.

Oh, hello, Tragg.

What can we do for
you? Here, sit down.

Well, as a matter
of fact, there's

something I can do for you.

Tell you some news.

Uh, about the, uh,
cabin and the body?

They were there, all right.

Just where you said they'd be.

Was it homicide?

Well, the man was
shot three times.

Have you identified the body?

I was hoping you'd
tell me who he was.

Oh, well, I can't.

I realize you don't
have to answer, Perry.

But this has become a
far more serious matter

than it was at first.

I'm sure of that...

but at the moment, I
still prefer not to say

what my client knows
or does not know.

Why be so cagey? Why
not just say Gladys Doyle?

Gladys Doyle?

Yes.

I wish I could say
that I unearthed her,

but I can't.

The credit goes to
the Burglary detail.

Yes.

Hold on a minute, Paul.

I don't follow you, Tragg.

Well, it's all very simple.

On, uh, burglary jobs,
like Mauvis Meade's,

the first people
you talk to are...

Are maids and
secretaries, and the like.

So the officers went to
Miss Doyle's apartment.

When they began to question her

about the muddy
clothes she had on,

she told them about
the body she'd found.

So they took her downtown?

Now are you willing to
tell me what she told you?

I'd like to talk to
her. Where is she?

Well, you'll find that out
when they've booked her...

counselor.

Booked? What could
they possibly book her for?

My guess would be...

murder.

Did I hear you tell
Paul to hold on?

Mm-hm. He has to talk to you.

Hello, Paul.

Good work. Has he a family?

Oh, we'll both go.

I'll meet you downstairs.

One of Paul's operatives
has identified the dead man.

He's a gambler working for
the Whispering Sands Motel

in Las Vegas.

Paul and I are
gonna fly up there

to talk to his wife
before the police do.

See you later.

You didn't give me much...

Don't scream. I won't hurt you.

Just keep your back towards me.

Where's Mason?

Uh, h-he's out of town.

Are you his secretary?

Yes.

Then take this for him.

No, you don't.

Tell him it used to
belong to Mauvis Meade.

Operator, uh, please get me

the Whispering Sands
Hotel in Las Vegas.

Yes, please.

Mrs. Manley?

Yes? My name's Drake.

I'm trying to locate
your husband.

Well, he's off on a trip.

Trip? Where?

Well, I... I don't know exactly.

Look, I can't talk to you here.

I'm supposed to be working.

Hm. You are
working, Mrs. Manley.

At least to the extent
of one silver dollar.

Uh, two silver dollars.

Why all the interest
in my husband?

We do some insurance
work, Mrs. Manley.

We believe he's
the Joseph Manley

who witnessed an accident

last night near the Summit Inn.

Uh, hit me, lightly.

I'll stand.

The, um...

Summit Inn in California?

That's right.

That can't be Joseph.

He's in Arizona on business.

Goes there every weekend.

I'll pay 20.

I was led to believe that, uh,

he was employed here.

Part-time. Like me.

Part-time by...

some other people.

Viola, I've gotta talk
to you. It's important.

Excuse me.

I don't know how to tell
you this, but he's dead.

Joe's dead.

Some woman killed him.

A-are you sure? Are
you absolutely sure...?

It was on the radio.

But...

those men said Joe saw
an accident last night...

What men?

Those insurance men.

Insurance...

Viola, those men
aren't insurance men.

You... You'd better go.

Who was that, Mrs. Manley?

My brother, Caspar.

He told me something...

you've apparently
known all along.

That my husband is dead.

Mrs. Manley, I'm
sorry about this.

But we do have a legitimate
reason for being here.

You see, I'm an attorney.

I'm representing the young woman

who supposedly...

killed your husband.

Caspar didn't tell me her name.

Gladys Doyle.

Gladys Doyle?

Gladys Doyle?

Do you know her?

No. I-I...

I never heard of her.

Oh, you made good time, Paul.

Hi, Pete.

Pete Kelton,
Mr. Mason, Miss Street.

Kelton's the operative
who identified Manley.

Any leads as to...

how he happened
to be killed up here?

Well, folks in the area

say he was a regular
weekend visitor.

Oh?

But I'm not sure if
he rented the cabin,

or someone else did.

The owner's a man named Findlay.

But he and his wife
are on a vacation

down in Lower
California somewhere.

Hm. Oh, the police
locked the cabin, Mason.

I wasn't intending to go inside.

When I spoke to
Gladys this morning,

after she'd been charged...

she, um, told me something else

about Mauvis
Meade's instructions.

In case the man she was
supposed to meet wasn't here...

she was to look for the
package in a coffee can

under the porch roof.

Let's see.

This looks like a coffee can.

Should've been empty.

It's a woman's scarf.

And some .32-caliber shells.

Well, Manley was
killed with a .32.

Well, that isn't
the important thing.

That's the monkey scarf
Mauvis Meade was wearing

when she was photographed

for the back cover of her book.

Mm-hm.

This was my favorite scarf.

At least at the time
this picture was taken.

Do you still have the scarf?

Why?

Well, if it's as handsome
as it appears to be,

I'd like to give one like
it to a young lady I know.

Oh. Huh.

Well, I'm afraid your
young lady's just out of luck.

It's a...

A one-of-a-kind item.

In fact, I think I gave
that scarf to Gladys.

Why don't you
ask her where it is?

I did. She said
she never had it.

Oh. Well, Mr. Mason,
in time, you'll learn

that there's often no
relation between the truth

and what Gladys says.

Oh, now, I feel sorry for her,

with all this trouble,
but she asked for it.

Now, uh, what's
all this hanky-panky

about my monkey scarf?

Or is that just an
excuse to talk to me?

I did want to ask
you one question.

When you reported
what was missing

after your apartment
had been ransacked,

didn't you forget one thing?

Didn't you forget to
include a bulky envelope

you once showed
Miss Doyle, marked:

"To be opened in the
case of my death"?

An envelope you kept in here?

That will be enough, Mason.

I'm advising Miss Meade not
to answer any further questions.

You'd be, uh, Gregory Dunkirk.

That's correct. And
as Mauvis' attorney,

I suggest you comply
with her wishes and leave.

While you still can on your
own power, Mr. Counselor.

A bodyguard... and a...

A lawyer. Mm.

I hadn't realized you were
in so deep, Miss Meade.

But since you do have a lawyer,

I'll be only too happy
to defer my questions

until I have the opportunity
of asking them in court...

while you're under oath.

Now, referring to this
.32-caliber revolver

found in the murder cabin
and introduced in evidence

as People's Exhibit C:

When this weapon was
tested in the police laboratory,

were you present, by any
chance, Lieutenant Tragg?

Yes, Mr. Burger, I was.

Well, as a result
of the ballistic tests,

we were able to report

that the slugs found
in the deceased's body

were fired from
that revolver. I see.

Now, in addition
to this revolver,

what was found in
the murder room?

Well, fingerprints of the
defendant were found

on the, uh,
footboard of the bed,

on the, uh, panels of the door.

And, uh, we also found
the defendant's prints

in the other bedroom.

I show you these various items

and ask if you can
identify them for us.

Yes, sir. They've been marked.

I call your attention to
this tube of toothpaste.

Yes, in searching
the defendant's

apartment in town,

we found a tube
of the same make.

And I call your attention,
now, to this comb.

Yes, sir. Two brunette
hairs were found

in the teeth of the comb.

Laboratory tests proved
that they came from the head

of the, uh...

defendant...

Miss Gladys Doyle.

Did you leave those
things there? No.

Now, lieutenant,
what else did you find

among the effects left
behind in the other bedroom?

The letter...

that starts, "Dearest
sweetheart..."

Ah, yes. Never
mind, uh, lieutenant.

I show you this letter
and ask if it's the one

you're referring to.

Yes, sir. It has
my initials on it.

And what can you tell
this court about the letter?

Well, we found, uh, several
latent fingerprints on it,

and one clear print
of an index finger

that, uh, belonged
to the defendant.

Uh, what about the
handwriting, lieutenant?

Yes, sir. Three experts
are presently engaged

in identifying the handwriting.

Just tell us, please, what
the experts are testing for.

Well, inasmuch as we found

the fingerprints of
the, uh, deceased

on the letter paper,

and the name,
Joe, as a signature,

they are testing the handwriting

against the handwriting
of the deceased.

I see. If it please the court,

I should like these items
that I've just mentioned

entered in evidence and
marked as exhibits for the state.

Uh, no objection, Your Honor.

Yes, I own that cabin.

Along with a dozen
or so others I rent out.

Well, would you tell us, please,

when and to whom you last rented

the particular cabin

we've been discussing?

Well, a little over a year ago,

a woman telephoned
me at my office.

She said she'd seen
my sign on the cabin,

wanted to know
what the rental was.

I told her $100 a month.

And she took it.

Well, did you know
this woman's name?

Yes. Gladys Doyle.

And did you ever see this woman?

No. She just kept
mailing me the rent,

first of every month,

in an envelope

containing a single $100 bill.

Now, Mr. Findlay, as an
experienced real estate man,

would you say this was a
common way to do business?

Well, not common, but, uh,
not, uh, uncommon, either.

I've had clients
like this before.

People wanting to use my cabins

for, uh...

Well, as, uh, love nests,

so to speak.

Love nests. Really.

To you, counselor.

Mr. Findlay...

concerning this monthly
rental you spoke of.

Was there a return address
on the, uh, envelope?

Nothing except a
postmark. Los Angeles.

And as to the, um...

woman's voice you, uh,
heard on the telephone.

Would you be able to
identify it if you heard it again?

That's a point I've been
going over in my mind.

No, sir, I wouldn't.

Thank you,
Mr. Findlay. That'll be all.

When did you last see your
husband alive, Mrs. Manley?

A week ago last Friday.

Were you subsequently
requested by appropriate authority

to view his body for
purposes of identifying him?

The following Tuesday
here in Los Angeles.

It was Joe's body.

My husband, Joseph Manley.

Thank you, Mrs. Manley.

Cross-examine.

Mrs. Manley,

before your husband died,

did he ever mention the
name of Gladys Doyle?

No, never.

Did he ever mention the
name of Miss Doyle's employer,

Mauvis Meade?

No.

Did your brother ever mention
the name Mauvis Meade?

Caspar?

Oh. Why, I'm sure he's
never even heard of her.

Thank you, Mrs. Manley.

The witness may stand down.

Now... your name
is Mauvis Meade,

and you are the author
of a current bestseller

called Chop the Man
Down. Is that correct?

I am.

Are you acquainted
with the defendant?

Yes. She was my secretary.

Uh, Your Honor, may I
have permission, please,

to interrupt this for a moment

for the purposes of
having a short conference?

Of course, Mr. Burger.

Perry. That's Paul's man

who was at the cabin.

What is it?

I think the roof's
about to fall in.

If it please the court...

the prosecution has just
received some information,

and it feels duty-bound
to present that information

to the court at this time.

Information

on the basis of which I
intend to bring charges

against Mr. Mason
for concealing evidence

and obstructing the
administration of justice.

Then Mr. Mason said,
"This looks like a coffee can."

Inside it...

were a woman's
scarf and some bullets.

What caliber bullets?

Thirty-two caliber. The
same as the murder gun.

And what did Mr. Mason
do with this scarf

and these bullets?

He put them in his pocket.

Thank you. There, Your Honor.

That's as clear a case
of suppressing evidence

as I've ever seen.

Mr. Mason?

Before the testimony of
this witness is taken as final,

I believe I have the right to
cross-examine, Your Honor.

You have. And I'll be pleased

if you can clarify this matter.

Mr. Burger.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mason,

but I've got a license
to protect and a family.

Hm. Just answer
my questions, please.

Now, when I took the bullets...

and that scarf with me,

did I say they were evidence?

No.

Did you or anyone
else there at that time

suggest that they
might be evidence?

No.

Are you able to say
with certainty, even now,

that they are
evidence in this case?

Well, no, I guess I can't.

Ah, that's all.

All, Mr. Mason?

Um... except for one or two
questions of Lieutenant Tragg,

if Your Honor will bear with us

for the few minutes it will take

for him to return to court.

Very well. We'll recall him.

You may stand down.

Yes, Your Honor?

Will you please take
the stand, lieutenant?

Lieutenant Tragg...
didn't you testify

that you and your
men searched the cabin

immediately after
finding the body?

Yes, sir. From top to bottom.

And was there a coffee
can under the porch roof?

Yes, there was.

Did you examine it? Naturally.

What did you find?

Nothing. The coffee
can was empty.

Thank you, lieutenant.

Your Honor, I realized
that the scarf and the bullets

had been planted in the
coffee can after the fact.

Otherwise, Lieutenant
Tragg would have found them.

So they can hardly be
considered evidence of murder.

I do believe they were intended

to confuse the
issues in this case.

Nevertheless, Your Honor,

I'm going to insist
that these items

be produced in court.

They will be, Mr. Burger,

but at the convenience
of the defense.

Which will be after lunch,
gentlemen, as I, um...

I find the noon
recess is upon us.

Court will reconvene at 2:00.

I checked at the Summit Inn.

Found this in
the publicity files.

Gladys Doyle and Caspar Pedley.

Only on that particular
Sunday, Caspar was operating

as Edgar Carlisle.

Mrs. Manley's brother?

Uh-huh. The same.

Phone call for you, Mr. Mason.

Paul, did you tell anyone
where we were having lunch?

Nope.

Neither did we.

Mason speaking.

When you get Mauvis Meade

on the stand, Mason,

ask her about the $100 bills

she drew from the
bank each month.

Who is this?

Never mind. Just ask her

if those aren't
the bills she used

to pay the rent on the cabin.

Hello? Hello?

That almost has to be the man

that Gladys met in the cabin.

He must have followed us here.

Della, you check
all the phone booths

to the right on this
side of the street.

Look for a blond man about 30.

Paul, you check all
the booths to the left.

I'll check the parking lot.

All right.

Some gin?

Yes, Mr. Mason.

I was supposed to
meet a friend here.

Blond man about 30.

He called me a few minutes ago,
probably from your phone booth.

Oh, yes. That's his car.
The second one over.

He just went across the street

to get cigarettes.

Thank you.

Mason?

What the devil do
you think you're doing?

Richard Gilman?

Yes. But how did you...

This subpoena is
answerable this afternoon.

Now, let me get this
straight, Mr. Gilman.

As a federal agent,

you are conducting an
undercover investigation

of certain income tax frauds

involving Las Vegas gamblers

and a Los Angeles contact.

Yes, sir.

And a court appearance by you

would wreck this investigation?

That's why my
superiors in Washington

ordered me not to come forward.

I tried to give you a
break with the map I found,

moving Miss Doyle's
car out of the mud...

and with the phone call.

Ended up in the
mud myself, I guess.

It seems to me, Perry,

that you'll be doing the
government a disservice

if you insist upon
Mr. Gilman's testifying.

I'll be doing my client
a disservice if I don't.

Yeah, but what
can he testify to?

He says he arrived at the cabin,
found the fire already lighted.

He started a search, but
was still in the first bedroom

when Miss Doyle arrived.

And he left, himself,
shortly thereafter.

He doesn't know of
his own knowledge

whether she killed
Manley or not.

I suggest you weigh
this very carefully, Perry.

I'll do this much.

I'll try to go ahead without
Mr. Gilman's testimony,

provided he answers...

one or two things for me now.

I'll do my best.

As I understand it...

you're investigating
the transfer

of some rather large sums of
unreported gambling winnings

from a Las Vegas group

to an agent here in Los Angeles.

That is correct, yes.

Uh, what's the
purpose of the transfer?

To dodge paying
an income tax on it.

You see, if the money
were banked in Las Vegas,

or put in safety deposit
boxes, we could uncover it

by a federal court
order, and levy on it.

But if it keeps showing
up in foreign countries

whose banks we can't touch...

then they've got it made.

What about the cabin?

It's a way station
out of the country.

Or, at least, we
got a tip that it was.

That's why I was up
there, to look around.

Did your tipster tell you

that Joseph Manley was a
messenger for the gamblers,

and that Mauvis Meade was
their Los Angeles contact?

I can't answer that.

You left rather quickly
when Gladys Doyle arrived.

Was that because
you recognized her

as Mauvis Meade's secretary

and thought you'd
walked into a trap?

I can't answer that, either,

unless, of course,
you put me under oath.

Which we've decided
we don't want to do.

I think there's
someone waiting in court

who can answer that.

Someone already under oath.

Haven't you been
listening, Mr. Mason?

I told you that I didn't know

anything about a
cabin or a package.

And if Gladys says I do,

then she's not
telling the truth.

And you are, Miss Meade? Yes.

This map shows the...

shortcut from the Summit Inn.

On the shortcut is a
point labeled "cabin."

And above it is a sketch
of the murder cabin.

Isn't this your map...

and your sketch, Miss Meade?

I never saw it before.

Do you know the
penalty for perjury?

A term in prison, Miss Meade.

But I have a feeling
a worse penalty

awaits you unless
you speak out now.

Do you recognize this?

Why, yes, it...

It's, uh...

my monkey scarf.

Would it surprise you to
learn that this was found

in a coffee can at
the murder cabin

and contained a handful
of .32-caliber bullets?

What?

Did you kill Joseph Manley?

No.

Then is someone trying
to frame you for murder?

Haven't you been in
fear of your life for weeks?

In such fear that in an
effort to protect yourself,

you hid certain documents
in an envelope marked:

"To be opened in
case of my death"?

Isn't it true that your
apartment was ransacked

and that envelope taken?

And isn't it true that someone

posing as a writer
named Edgar Carlisle

tried to lure you
to the Summit Inn

on the day of the murder?

And that when you...

found that Edgar Carlisle...

The real Edgar
Carlisle was dead,

had been dead for two
months, you became terrified.

Sent the defendant,
Gladys Doyle, in your place?

And isn't it true that that man,

Dukes Lawton, is
not your bodyguard...

but a gunman hired to make sure

you do not tell the truth?

Uh, may I be heard, Your Honor?

My name is Gregory Dunkirk,

and I'm representing Miss Meade.

Is this true, Miss Meade?

The court will protect you.

Just tell the truth.

Mr. Dunkirk is...

Is not my lawyer.

He's one of those
who's threatening me.

Do you know what
you're saying, Mauvis?

You will be quiet, sir, or
I'll hold you in contempt.

Please explain why

you are being
threatened, Miss Meade.

Um...

several years ago, I...

I got mixed up with Gregory...

Um... Mr. Dunkirk.

He, uh, operated on the
fringes of the underworld,

and I found him a fascinating
character for my book.

So fascinating
that I got involved

in the underworld
myself. As a...

messenger at first.

Involved, as Joseph
Manley was involved?

Yes.

He, uh... He brought
the package of money

from... Las Vegas to the cabin,

which...

I rented under Gladys' name.

Gentlemen...

in view of our
earlier discussion...

don't you agree it is advisable
to continue in my chambers?

With the court's permission,

before we retire, may I
ask one or two questions

solely related to the murder?

Provided they're
discrete questions.

Yes, Your Honor.

Now...

did you kill Joseph Manley?

No.

Did you tell him
about the documents

you'd hidden in the envelope?

Foolishly, yes. And he, uh...

Well, he must have
told his employers.

Were you...

having an affair
with Joseph Manley?

Yes, I was.

Could you possibly have
left your scarf in the cabin,

and could he, at one time
or other, have taken it?

That must have
been what happened.

Why did Joseph Manley's
brother-in-law, Caspar Pedley,

come to see you?

Well, he...

He came to sell
me some information

regarding Edgar Carlisle. I...

Uh, I thought it was
a trick, and so I...

I sent him away.

Hm.

With the court's permission,

I would like to call
Caspar Pedley to the stand.

Very well, Mr. Mason.

Why, that's Edgar Carlisle.

Mr. Pedley...

I show you this photograph

taken from the publicity files

of the Summit Inn.

Does it convey anything to you?

Yes. I...

I posed as Edgar Carlisle.

It was Joe's...

It was my brother-in-law
Joseph Manley's idea.

He... He paid me to
pretend to be Edgar Carlisle.

Why would Joseph Manley
want to play that kind of a trick

on Miss Meade?

Well, he said his bosses
wanted to make sure

that Miss Meade wasn't
at home on Sunday.

Why did you continue
your deception

when Gladys Doyle showed
up instead of Miss Meade?

I didn't know what else to do.

I think you did know what to do.

Oh. Oh, you mean

about going to Miss
Meade's later and...

And trying to sell
her information?

I'm not talking about
your visit to Miss Meade.

I'm talking about leaving
Gladys Doyle at the Summit Inn,

going directly to the cabin,

where you knew your
brother-in-law would be,

and, there, killing him.

No.

Taking the package of
money from its hiding place

and later replacing
it with a scarf

and a handful of bullets

in an effort to frame
Mauvis Meade for murder.

No, no, no. No,
you got it all wrong.

I didn't kill Joe.

She did it.

She killed him.

She figured Miss Meade

would come back to the cabin

later that night
and be involved.

And then she learned
from you the next night

that Miss Doyle was accused.

So she came back
with the bullets and the...

And the scarf that she found
among Joe's things, and...

And she put 'em
in the coffee can.

Yes, I did it.

It was that girl I hated.

Got him mixed up with her.

It was she I was jealous of.

I should've killed her...

instead of him.

I think planting that
love letter, the comb,

and those other personal things,

to make it look as if
Joseph Manley and Gladys

were having a love affair,

was terrible.

A matter of desperation, Della.

Dunkirk and Mauvis
Meade had to act fast.

The irony was somebody
else was up to the same trick...

only they were planting the
evidence against Miss Meade.

You mean the, uh,
.32-caliber bullets

and the monkey scarf.

That's right, Paul.

Well, I'm glad you got some
sort of a fee for all your work.

Hmm. Oh, in
addition to this scarf...

I also received Miss
Meade's autograph

on a very handsome check.

She said that Gladys
had always been

an excellent secretary,

and she felt that she
owed something to her.

Besides, she had to have
someone take care of her affairs

for the next couple of years.