Perry Mason (1957–1966): Season 3, Episode 8 - The Case of the Bartered Bikini - full transcript
A model is charged with murdering a fashion designer after trying to recover documents showing they had an affair. In addition she was found with drawings of the new fashions which are being stolen from the company to make knockoffs.
Twenty-seven fifty.
There it was, simply
shrieking at me.
Every single line the same,
every pleat, every button.
And there I stood in your...
Your precious Dunbar original,
that you wanted me to
palm off on my customers
for $200.
Oh, Rick, I'm glad you're here.
Mrs. Wainwright,
this is Rick Stassi,
my designer.
Your designer?
Your cartoonist. Your
fellow swindler, you mean.
Madam, you really should
wear a tighter girdle with that.
Rick, Mrs. Wainwright says
that she used to worked here,
back when my father was alive.
She now has a small and
exclusive shop on Wilshire.
I have such a bad
memory about faces.
Rick. The fact is someone
has stolen our designs again.
Stolen?
You mean, swiped,
pirated and duplicated.
Atley must have
had this in production
just about as long as you.
How do they manage it?
Wally, when you have been in
the business as long as I have,
you'll be more
philosophical about pirating.
Well, I don't have to
be philosophical about it.
You're getting my
entire order back.
And from now on, don't
even bother to call on me,
because I've had it
with Dunbar Fashions.
That's our third
cancellation this week.
Oh, well. Bathing suits
are what the name Dunbar
really stands for.
Have you looked
at these bikinis yet?
Rick, we're standing
on the edge of a cliff.
If any of our major designs
were to be stolen this year,
we're through. I mean
finished. Bankrupt.
Our new bathing suits? Yes.
Our whole new
spring line? Mm-hm.
Wally, don't!
We're gonna do them over.
Every single one of them.
In secret, you understand?
Under lock and key if necessary.
And when they're done,
we're gonna have
security around this place
that'll make Fort Knox
look like a parade ground.
Ouch. Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, Lisa.
You must be so tired.
There.
I'll put the red print
in your suitcase
as soon as it's off the machine.
You are going to Bud's for
photography tonight, aren't you?
Wally won't let any
of the other models
take suits out of the building.
Of course not.
Just like a spy movie, isn't it?
Oh, but just think,
after tomorrow you can
sleep and sleep and sleep.
Oh, don't forget to show
those changes to Rick.
Lisa... Wally does understand
the strain you've been under
these past few days,
oh, with the redesigning
and everything.
Wally, Wally, Wally.
You've turned into quite
an authority on the boss,
haven't you?
No. It's just that...
Well, he hasn't really
said anything yet.
Oh, darling, I didn't mean te...
More changes.
Scoot, dear.
So local girl makes good, eh?
From rags to riches.
From designer to boss
in six easy months.
Just what do you
mean, "from designer"?
Just what do you think I mean?
You have circles under
your eyes, my dear.
I should have told
our new scoutmaster
a little more clearly...
what hours I prefer
in my department
for the girls to keep.
Particularly the
ones who write letters
or... do any posing.
I thought you said you
threw everything away.
Rick, there wasn't really
anything between us.
What have you told Wally?
Stop it.
Please!
Oh, what do you want from me?
Oh. I'll let you know.
Let me go.
Oh, I hate you.
I could kill you.
Kitty?
Hello, honey.
Hey, I like it.
Lisa, I like it.
Oh. Thanks, Wally.
You should, boss.
It's the last one.
You'll now really have some
spring design worth stealing.
You mean I can now go see
about getting some protection?
Now's where's
the security starts.
In other words, you've just
finished the preparation stage,
is that it?
Specifically, there
are Rick's drawings,
some photographs and
the bathing suits themselves,
which are just being completed.
Uh, pilot models, you might say.
Seems as though you've
been very thorough so far.
The next three or four
weeks are the critical period.
I buy materials,
lay out patterns.
I show the suits to a
few selected buyers.
I already have a
magazine cover in work.
Hm-hm. That sounds
fairly public to me.
No, it's not.
The buyers we admit will
only be the most reputable.
Although I'd still like them
checked and rechecked.
Also, my own employees,
and I'd like an eye kept
on certain competitors,
like Simon Atley.
Della, see if Paul
Drake is in his office.
Have him drop by.
You know, Judge
Learned Hand once said,
"When it comes to fashions
and changing styles...
others may imitate
at their pleasure."
Mr. Mason, once
we're on the market,
I don't mind being copied.
It's too late to hurt us then.
In the meantime, we'll see
that you continue to have
the legal protection.
That your drawings and sketches
are private property.
Oh, Simon, there you are.
Your girl's gone home, I guess.
I... I didn't know
whether to knock
or just sort of crawl
through the keyhole
Madge, I'm in rather a hurry.
Simon, did you know
that Dunbar Fashions
tore up their spring
designs just ten days ago?
For heaven's sake, why do
you come to me with this tidbit?
You're not interested? No.
Now, if you'll excuse me...
What about the new designs?
The brand new ones?
Every single one of them.
Every new style he's got.
And just what do
you want out of this?
Money.
Madge, I ought to
have you arrested.
I wouldn't pay you 1
cent for stolen fashions.
Even Dunbar's.
And furthermore...
I don't even want
to hear about them.
Well...
all finished? Mm-hm.
You did remember to lock
your sketch file, didn't you, Rick?
Always, dear. Always.
I don't even dare
to take a pencil out of
the building anymore.
Have you been able to spot
some of the hired security detail?
No.
We can't really blame
Wally for worrying.
After all, he has
everything at stake.
Mm-hm.
I suppose our scoutmaster
is down in one of
the gaudy hotels,
welcoming his precious
buyers and editors
with sarsaparilla.
Rick.
Rick... now that
we're finally through...
Well... what I mean is,
here we have finished
a whole beautiful,
new spring line again.
I thought that...
Well, maybe you and I
could have a drink together.
Like we used to.
Remember your diet, dear.
Rick, you... You're not
angry with me, are you?
Just because I made
a few minor changes
in your design?
Oh, don't be ridiculous.
Every seamstress
has her little needle.
Rick. Rick, couldn't we just...?
Lisa. Don't you understand
I have other plans?
Isn't that clear enough?
Good night.
Rick. Rick, please, look at me.
Just once.
All right. Let's see.
It's 10:15.
Bud ought to be finished
with the pictures he
was taking by now.
Why don't you call him up?
Why don't you go out with
your husband for a change, huh?
Hi, Charlie. What's with
the, uh, photo studio?
A little night work, I guess.
The girl arrived
about ten minutes ago,
and she was carrying a suitcase.
Which girl? Kitty Wynne.
You want me to stay
here covering the place,
or the girl, if and
when she does leave?
No, don't worry about
the girl. She's all right.
Just worry about the studio:
lab, equipment, pictures
and the photographer.
Okay. Check with you later.
If anything happens,
I'll give you a call.
Okay.
Ah, that's it.
Lady Godiva on a bicycle.
Startled, snooty blush.
Bartender's just asked
you how old you are.
Uh... take the jacket off.
That was pretty bad.
Baby, what's wrong
with you tonight?
You... You're Cinderella.
Please, Bud, can't
we just take it?
It's the last one.
No more suits in there?
No, just the three.
Those are my own clothes.
You know, learning to relax
is like learning to stay alive.
Too many noises?
Shut your ear.
Got a worry?
Float it away.
I mean, look at me.
Now, I know I'm not much,
but look how
things just fall off.
Sometimes, baby...
Sometimes you've just
got to ride this crazy world...
sidesaddle.
Bud, wait.
If that's Wally
Dunbar, tell him...
Well, tell him we've already
finished, and I've gone home.
I have my own car.
Oh-ho.
So that's it.
You and Wally are
having a little trouble.
Bud, please, I...
I just have other things
to do tonight, that's all.
Yeah?
Oh. What?
I'm not coming home.
Well...
where are you going?
Out with that Stassi character?
Lisa, aren't you coming
home at all tonight?
Oh, just skip
it. It's all right.
Sure, sure.
I'll see you.
All right, all right.
Come on. I'm closing up.
Oh, it's you. Good night, sir.
Good night, Mr. Stassi.
Stassi? Would that be, uh,
Rick Stassi from
over at Dunbar's?
Maybe. Why?
Heh. I'm sorry. My
name's, uh, Paul Drake.
Mr. Dunbar told
me... Oh, sure, sure.
How are you, sir? Boss
said you'd be down.
Well, what can I show you?
Well, I'd...
kind of like to get
familiar with the building.
How, uh, things are locked up.
And... Oh, one
other thing. Yeah?
This employee list. Oh.
I wonder if you could give
me some descriptions to match
these names and
addresses. Well... I'd, uh...
I'd be glad to. As
soon as I lock up here,
I'll be right with you.
Mm, I couldn't find
everything at the building
he said I should find there.
Namely, those draft sketches
from the designer's file.
Mm, the watchman told me
that Stassi had just driven home,
I thought I'd run out
and check with him.
And... that's when you
found Kitty Wynne's car,
with those in the suitcase?
That's right.
They are our new fashions.
Go on, Paul.
She was just leaving
his house as I arrived.
And I followed her back
to the Dunbar building.
She, uh, put the suitcase
inside when she left.
I picked it up.
Look, Kitty was out for
photography yesterday.
She always returns
her things to the plant.
Mr. Dunbar... how
did those sketches
get into the suitcase?
There's no harm done, Mason.
We've got everything
back, haven't we?
I'm sorry if I act upset.
But I certainly
didn't expect Drake
to go snooping around
after my own girlfriend.
Excuse me, Mr. Mason,
but I thought you'd want
to see this right away.
It's from the morning paper.
An advance ad of
Simon Atley bathing suits.
"Soon available
in all our outlets."
They're the same.
Every one of them.
Mm-hm. They even admit it too.
"Budget styling identical
with that of the most
expensive fashion houses."
Mr. Dunbar...
before you call Kitty...
suppose we get your
designer over here.
What's his number?
State 1-1781.
Della. Mm.
Hello?
Hello, Mr. Stassi?
Uh, who is this, please?
Perry Mason calling.
Is Mr. Stassi there?
Oh, yes. He's here, all right.
In body, if not in spirit.
Who is this?
Why, this is Homicide,
Della. Lieutenant Tragg.
Oh, Mr. Mason.
I'm Sergeant Macready, remember?
Yes, sergeant, I remember.
Uh, Lieutenant Tragg wanted to
see Mr. Dunbar right away.
Well, lieutenant's
busy inside the house.
Be just a minute.
Lisa.
What are you doing here?
I didn't kill him, Wally.
Honestly, I didn't kill him.
Traffic detail picked her
up downtown about 3 a.m.
Suspicion, drunk driving.
She gave the name Rick Stassi.
Said he'd vouch that
she'd only had a couple.
I just said it, that's all.
It's the first thing
that came to me.
Only when they got
around to checking Stassi,
the milkman had
already been here.
Found him dead.
I... I really hadn't
been with Rick at all.
Where was Stassi
killed? Out here?
Just this side of the car.
Shot.
Was he getting in or out of
the car when it happened?
Well, neither one, maybe.
He apparently kept a gun
in the dash compartment.
That, and the fact there
had been a little scuffle
outside the car. We dug a
wild bullet out of the post.
Well, good morning, Perry.
And, uh, you're Mr. Dunbar, eh?
Did you ever see
this before, sir?
I don't think so.
You should. It's
registered to you.
No, no, no. Hm?
Oh. Well, that must be the one
that I gave to Rick Stassi then.
Well, that was weeks ago.
You see, I have several
guns. Target pistols mostly.
And, well, he asked me for one.
I guess it was a
.9 mm like that.
Why'd he want it, Mr. Dunbar?
Well, we've been taking steps
to maintain complete security.
You see, I've been concerned
about certain items in my
plant being stolen, and I...
Yes, I already know quite
a few things about that.
Well, Mrs. Ferrand, I don't
think we need you anymore
for a while.
Uh, Macready, have one
of the men drive her home.
Uh, this Rick Stassi
must have been, uh,
quite a ladies' man, I gather.
Mm-hm.
Has the, um, time of death
been established, lieutenant?
Well, the doctor says
it was before midnight.
I wonder if you'd mind, uh,
driving back to town in my car,
sort of fill me in, uh, on
a few things as we go?
Well, if Mr. Mason
thinks it's all right...
Oh, I'm sure the
lieutenant won't expect you
to answer any
questions except those
concerning your personal
experience of last night.
I'm sure you'll be
a great help, sir.
Well... goodbye, Perry.
Hi, Perry.
You locate Kitty Wynne?
No. No luck so far.
Perry...
how far are you really
going on this case?
Well, I'm... finding
a thing or two here.
Of course, technically,
I'm only concerned with...
whose property was
stolen from whom.
Well, that's what I figured.
The reason I asked was
there's a DA's man
in my office right now
with a court order for my
records on the Dunbar job.
Mm-hm. What's in them, Paul?
Well, so far, mostly just notes
on what my men
and I did last night.
Times, places, things like that.
How'd they find out your
agency was even mixed up in this?
Watchman at the Dunbar building.
Perry... Mr. Dunbar
is on the phone.
He's found Kitty down
at police headquarters.
They've apparently had her
there for quite a few hours.
And, uh, now, he says
they're booking
her for the murder.
Kitty. Why did you go
to Rick Stassi's house?
Kitty...
Mr. Dunbar wants
me to defend you.
I can't do that unless you and I
have faith in each other.
It's just that they've asked
me so many questions,
that's all.
And I know I've given
all the wrong answers.
Mm, take it easy.
Just tell me when
you arrived there.
Eleven o'clock.
And then what?
Well, I knocked, but
no one answered.
So I went inside.
Rick wasn't there. No one was.
You mean, no one was
in the hall or living room.
Or in the back either.
There's a studio,
and... And his room.
You... looked into
all those places?
Why?
A person usually
stands and calls out.
Well, I did at first, but...
Well, you see,
Rick had been hinting
around the past few days.
I didn't know
whether he told Wally
things that weren't
true or what.
That's why I went out there.
I just had to see him.
Kitty...
what was between
you and Rick Stassi?
I dated him a few
times, that's all.
It was last year, when I first
went to work for the company.
Before Wally was even there.
And... well,
I posed for Rick.
After all, he was an artist.
And I was so
young, I didn't know.
But there wasn't
anything between us.
Honestly.
I suppose Rick kept the
drawings he made of you,
plus any notes you
might have written him.
Anything like that.
Yes. How did you know?
Did you find those
drawings he'd saved?
Yes.
In a desk in his studio.
And my notes to him also.
Did you take that
material with you?
I was awfully scared.
I went to the living room
and... And grabbed my coat,
and ran out to my
car as fast as I could.
I hadn't even seen Rick,
so how could I kill him?
Please, Mr. Mason.
When you see Wally,
will you explain?
Let's go back to the desk and
those things you took out of it.
What did you do with them?
I took them home and
burned them up in the fireplace.
All right, Kitty...
let's come back
to something else.
You know that the...
Dunbar fashion designs
were being stolen, don't you?
Yes.
And you know that the work
sketches of those designs
were found in a suitcase
you'd been carrying?
I just don't know, that's all.
How they got there, or...
Or how long they'd been there,
or... Or anything.
All right, Kitty.
Please, Mr. Mason.
Is it going to be too
hard to have faith in me?
Hm-hm.
No.
All right, boys. We'll
handle it that way.
Okay. Goodbye.
Thanks. Thank you.
Hello, Mason.
Stuyvesant.
Ha. Simon, sweet,
you've done it again.
- Look. Just look.
- There it is.
Madge, I'm very busy.
Oh, I shouldn't wonder.
Getting the jump on Dunbar
with all those lovely styles of his.
I can just see
Rick Stassi's face.
He must be simply frying.
I'll bet he is too, Madge.
Only not the way you think.
Darling, I know that he's dead.
Please come in, Mr. Mason.
You are the sly one, aren't you?
You had it all arranged
all the time, didn't you?
Hm.
The trouble with
fashions is the, uh,
people who wear them. Hm.
Is she a friend, or someone
you've been doing business with?
No, no. No business. No, sir.
But I can tell you this.
I happen to know
that Madge Wainwright
was fired by Wally
Dunbar's father once.
And for suspicion of theft too.
Mr. Atley...
I'm interested as to why
you've just seen your lawyers.
I ask because I represent
Miss Kitty Wynne.
She's being held on
suspicion of murder.
Oh, I, uh, didn't know that.
I suppose the police must
have talked to you, though.
About some, uh...
fashion sketches in a suitcase?
Mr. Mason, I know you are
aware that in the United States,
there is absolutely no
copyright or patent protection
for fashion design.
In the state of California,
the penalty for
receiving stolen goods
can be as much as one
to ten years in prison.
What?
Of course, your
lawyers will tell you
that a conviction
depends upon proving
that the purchaser of said
goods knows they are stolen
at the time of purchase.
Just what are you suggesting?
But I must warn you, Mr. Atley,
that I've had private
detectives working
to maintain Dunbar
Fashions as private property,
so in the event any
of them were stolen...
Mr. Mason, I haven't touched
one single, solitary sketch,
bathing suit, photograph,
or anything else
belonging to Dunbar...
and neither has any
of my employees.
Thank you.
That's what I was
hoping you would say.
Then... Kitty Wynne
was in no way responsible
for your getting any of
these bathing suit fashions?
Now, how can I answer
a question like that?
Mr. Atley...
these are Dunbar work sketches
completed just yesterday.
I notice, in several cases,
the slightest differences
between them and the
sketches in your ads.
Now, apparently, a
woman named Lisa Ferrand
was often responsible for
the final Dunbar designs.
At least, she often added
touches to Rick Stassi's work.
Your designs don't seem
to have had the benefit
of those touches.
All right, what of it?
Well, it makes me wonder if
you didn't get these designs
from Rick Stassi himself.
He was the only person who
wouldn't have really needed
to... steal those designs,
since he had the
designs in his own head.
I paid $25,000 to Rick Stassi
for a complete
set of new designs,
which he came
here and drew for me.
I paid him in
cash, in $100 bills.
And there was
absolutely no one else
in any other way involved.
Thank you, Mr. Atley.
How do you suppose
those sketches
got into Kitty's suitcase?
Well, I'd say that
Mr. Stassi put them there.
Tsk. Small wonder
he was murdered.
Oh, but I'm so relieved
she's apparently
telling you the truth.
Come in, Paul.
Paul...
did the police get copies
of these records of yours?
Uh-huh. But you
know the old adage:
Give 'em a finger,
they want a whole hand.
Now it's me they have
a subpoena out for.
However, I did manage to
pick up a couple of things
down at headquarters. Oh, what?
The boys who went out
to Kitty Wynne's apartment
found paper ashes
in the fireplace.
So now they'll probably
reconstruct evidence
of that blackmail material.
Also, they found a
crumpled-up $100 bill
on the floor of her closet,
and another one in her car.
That, uh, mean anything to you?
Was there a bullet recovered
from the body, doctor?
Yes. It had been slowed down
by an angled
collision with the spine.
Now tell me, doctor...
when you arrived at the scene
of the crime with the police,
was Mr. Stassi substantially
as we see him here:
that is, half in and half out
of the right side of the car
with his feet on the
ground, and his body fallen
against the left
side of the seat?
That's correct.
Rigor mortis was quite complete.
I'd say death occurred
at least eight hours
prior to first examination.
That would make it before
11:30 the night before.
Mm-hm. Thank you, doctor.
That'll be all. Cross-examine.
Uh, no questions.
Uh, then, Mr. Ellis,
your tests definitely proved
that these bullets
were fired from this gun.
Is that correct?
That is correct, sir.
And that these...
are the matching cases.
Is that correct?
Yes, sir. Those cartridge cases
uh, bear the so-called
breech-block signature
of this gun.
We found them on the
cement floor of the carport
not far from the body.
And what else could you
tell us that you observed
about this murder weapon
when you examined it?
Well, the gun obviously
hadn't been used very much.
There was enough cleaning
oil, gun oil, on it to show streaks
where it had been wiped clean.
And also, there were
a couple of threads
caught in the breech mechanism.
Really? What kind of threads?
Linen. I see.
Thank you, sir. I
think that'll be all.
Your witness.
Uh, no questions.
I call...
Madge Wainwright.
It was about 9:30 when I talked
to Mr. Stassi on the telephone.
I should say he was
most alive at the time.
How did you happen to
phone the Dunbar office,
Mrs. Wainwright?
I was trying to locate
a friend of mine,
but he couldn't help me.
A... A woman
answered. That, uh...
That Lisa Ferrand
person, I believe.
And then Rick himself.
But, uh, he said he and
the woman were all alone,
so, um, hm...
naturally, I hung up.
But you were able to recognize
the voice as that of Mr. Stassi?
Oh, yes, of course.
There was a day
when I knew Mr. Stassi.
Though, of course,
he forgot any girl
after she passed
the age of, uh, 22.
Yes. Now, you said that you...
once worked for
the Dunbar company.
Was the defendant
in their employ
at the time that you were there?
Yes, it was, um, last year.
She burst on
the place, like a...
springtime off the half shell.
Your Honor...
Uh, just yes or no,
if you don't mind,
Mrs. Wainwright.
Now, of your own knowledge,
what was the relationship
between the defendant
and Rick Stassi?
Well, I know that she posed
for him in the near-nude.
I also know that
she wrote him letters,
which he showed me,
that were certainly
not innocent.
Uh, what else do you have
to know about these things?
I mean, looks, touches, the...
The whole electricity
of two people
having a...
A-a relationship?
No!
That's not true!
No!
I think that's all, Mrs.
Wainwright. Thank you.
Your witness.
Mrs. Wainwright...
were there other girls at Dunbar
that you would call attractive?
Yes, all of them were...
one way or another.
And to how many of them
did Mr. Stassi... give
special attention?
All of them.
Mm, for a while, at least.
You're very attractive
yourself, Mrs. Wainwright.
Thank you.
Did he give you
special attention?
For... how long?
Thank you.
That'll be all.
I could hear them
talking in Rick's office,
but I wasn't sure of
what they were saying.
And then I heard Kitty
shout, "Let me go!"
And I heard her say, "I
hate you. I could kill you."
And this was the afternoon
of the day he was murdered?
Yes.
Thank you, Miss Lacoste.
Your witness.
Uh, no questions.
You may step down.
I'm sorry, Kitty.
Well, let's see now,
it was about 10:30
when the wife called.
Uh, Lisa, that is. She
had driven downtown
after leaving the
office, she said.
And at what time did Kitty
Wynne leave your studio?
Well, we quit right after that.
So as quick as she
could slip into her clothes.
I guess 10:35, or 40.
Kitty was pretty upset
and anxious, like I said.
I see. Thank you,
Mr. Ferrand. I think that'll be all.
To you, counselor.
Mr. Ferrand, when did
you develop the pictures
you'd taken of the defendant?
Well, to tell you the
truth, I decided to replace
a broken bottle first.
Then you also went out
about 10:35 or
10:40 that evening?
I was tired.
I had wanted a
drink, that's all.
I was back to fix the
pictures by... midnight.
Does that answer your question?
Would any of the places
you went to during that time
remember your presence?
Who remembers the furniture?
Hm.
What about your wife?
She was downtown.
Perhaps you had
a drink with her.
No.
Then you didn't see
your wife all that night?
She had nothing to do with this.
What kind of accusations
you trying to make?
Are you always so
quick-tempered, Mr. Ferrand?
Thank you, that'll be all.
You may stand down.
And then we... We talked
about going out together...
but Rick was in a hurry.
That was the last
time I saw him.
Thank you.
Counselor.
Mrs. Ferrand...
now, just exactly what
is your job at Dunbar's?
I'm a seamstress in
the design department.
Aren't you the one who
often adds the final touches
to Dunbar designs?
The things that some people say
make those designs
so distinctive?
Sometimes, I...
I guess I helped.
What is your
salary, Mrs. Ferrand?
I'm paid $150 a week.
Have any idea how much, uh...
Rick Stassi received
for his services?
Now, I think ab...
About $20,000 a year.
Oh, but if you mean, uh...
did that bother me, the...
The difference between us...
I never gave it a
thought, as long as...
As long as what?
It's not true that I
did anything special.
Rick was the designer.
Rick did everything.
Rick deserved everything.
Even being murdered,
Mrs. Ferrand?
Mr. Stassi drove
out of the parking lot
at 10:30 on the button, sir.
Well, how can you
be so sure of the time?
Well, that's when
I come to work.
Uh, I just punched my clock.
You see, I'm watchman
for that building,
and my first job is, uh,
locking the fence gate
and, uh, cranking
up the windows.
But, of course,
when he hit the horn,
and I saw that
flashy car of his, I...
I let Mr. Stassi out.
I think that'll be all, sir.
Thank you. Your witness.
Did, uh, Mr. Stassi
say good night to you?
No, I guess he didn't.
But I said it to him.
Are you sure it was Mr. Stassi
who drove out at 10:30?
Well, of course
it was. I saw him.
I saw his car, and
I, uh, saw my clock.
Now, you said part of your job
was... cranking up windows.
What do you mean?
Well, car windows.
On nights it looks like there's
gonna be rain, you see?
Hm.
Well, on the, uh,
night in question,
there were intermittent showers
beginning late in the evening,
and, uh, clearing
shortly after dawn.
And did this circumstance
contribute in any way
to your findings at
the scene of the crime?
Well, there are no sidewalks
or paved shoulders in that area.
So we noticed that any cars
parked in the Stassi place
left, uh, muddy tire tracks.
Well, go on, lieutenant.
What exactly did you find?
Well, Mr. Stassi's own car
left tracks coming into the drive,
of course.
And then there
were marks of tires
similar to those of a car
belonging to Mr. Paul Drake.
A third set of tracks was
parked in front of the house
with the same tire design...
as the defendant's car.
And that's all? Just
those three cars?
That's all.
I see. Now, lieutenant...
I show you this handkerchief,
and I ask if you recognize it.
I do. That has my
identifying mark on it.
Where did you find
it? Lying on the ground,
in, uh, front of
the Stassi home.
What's the material of this
handkerchief, lieutenant?
It's linen. It's Irish linen.
I see. Now, I notice there's
some dark stains on it.
Did you analyze those?
Yes. Those stains
are from gun oil.
The same oil that was
on the murder weapon.
And up in this corner
of this handkerchief...
Yes, the initials, uh, "K.W."
K.W. Kitty Wynne.
If it please the court, I
should like this handkerchief
and this attached
chemist's report
entered in evidence
for the people.
Mr. Mason?
No objections.
Cross-examine.
Is it yours?
Can you tell?
Well? Mr. Mason?
I have no questions
of this witness.
Court adjourned until 10 a.m.
I don't know, Mr. Mason.
I just don't know.
I guess I had a
handkerchief in my purse.
Mine are like that.
Did you keep the purse with you?
What?
At Rick's house,
when you went into the studio.
Yes, I guess I must have.
I put the drawings
and things in it.
Well, what about your coat?
Remember you said
you picked your coat up
when you ran out to the car?
Yes, that's right.
What kind of a
coat was it, Kitty?
What does it look like?
It's just a jacket.
An old car coat.
It's beige, and it
has slash pockets.
All right.
Della... call Paul.
Tell him to meet me at the
Dunbar building right away.
Then try and find
that beige jacket.
I'll see you back at the office.
Time to get up.
Oh.
I'm sorry I'm so late, Della.
That Kitty's coat?
Mm-hm. The landlady
helped me find it.
Let me see the pockets.
Remember your
trench coat? Now, here.
You put your
hand in the outside,
goes into the pocket.
Or you could put it
right through the slip
to the inside of the coat.
Now, suppose someone
was there when Kitty arrived.
Kitty started to look around...
finally went into the study.
Mm-hm. Leaving her
coat in the living room.
Mm-hm.
You know, most girls
carry handkerchiefs
in their pocket, Perry.
I know I do.
Now, suppose
whoever was there...
wiped the gun off
with her handkerchief.
And then to incriminate
Kitty put the handkerchief
and a couple of those $100
bills into her coat pocket,
or what felt like
the coat pocket.
Then Kitty came running
through the house...
grabbed her coat in
the living room, ran out.
The handkerchief must
have fallen out of the lining
even before she reached the car.
One of the bills fell
unnoticed to the floorboard,
and one of the bills
apparently stayed
caught in her coat
until she reached home.
And that's the way
it could've been.
Hi.
Well, we were lucky.
Here's the rest of the
information you wanted.
And now, if no one
minds, I did have a date.
At this hour?
No. No one minds.
Della will still have
to put this together.
Coffee, anyone?
Now, to recapitulate,
you saw Miss Wynne come
running out of that house
at exactly what time, Mr. Drake?
I arrived at exactly 11:10.
And it took you how long to get
there from the Dunbar building?
About 20 minutes.
Go on.
Well, as I said, I
arrived at 11:10.
By the time I'd looked into
her car and she'd come out,
driven off, and I followed
her, must have been 11:15.
Now, Mr. Drake...
did you at any time see
so much as one indication
of any other person
or any other car
anyplace on that road,
either approaching
or leaving that house?
No, sir, I did not.
Thank you, Mr. Drake.
Thank you for the accuracy
of your observations,
and those of your operatives.
And thank you for not making
me treat you as a hostile witness.
To you, counselor.
Mr. Drake...
let's return to the Dunbar
building for a moment.
To the, uh, parking
lot between buildings.
Now, you stated
you arrived just as
Mr. Stassi's car drove off.
I stated I heard the watchman
say, "Good night, Mr. Stassi."
But you did see his car
drive out through the gates?
Yes, I did.
Tell me, had it begun
to rain at that time?
Mm, there was a little drizzle.
But was it enough to...
cloud the windows of a car?
Well, I didn't actually
look at Mr. Stassi,
if that's what you mean.
The headlights were
too bright anyway.
May it please the court, I
would like to recall a witness.
Which witness,
Mr. Mason? What for?
Your Honor, I object.
Counselor?
Uh, Mr. Miller, the watchman.
It seems to me
he's more qualified
to answer my next question.
What is the question?
One I should have asked before.
Was Mr. Stassi alone in the car?
I can't answer that,
sir. I don't know.
If it please the court, I'm
gonna withdraw my objection
to the night watchman
being recalled.
I think that question
should be answered.
He was alone, I tell you.
Of course he was alone.
But Mr. Miller, you must admit
that the windows
might have been fogged.
You hardly even looked in
the direction of the headlights.
"Good night,
Mr. Stassi," says I.
It was like that every night.
You get an impression.
You know what I mean?
Of what? Could you tell
what clothes he was wearing?
Well, maybe not that, no...
An impression of a hat?
Did he always wear a hat?
Well, as a matter
of fact, he did.
Of course, I couldn't
swear that he had one on.
Well, then how could you
swear there wasn't somebody
sitting beside him,
hunched down in
the seat perhaps?
Because it's the
kind of thing you see.
The car drives away...
one person in back of the wheel.
Anybody else and they'd
have to be flat on the floor,
let me tell you.
Very well.
Now, um, you mentioned
rolling up car windows.
Yes, sir.
Did you by any chance
roll up the windows
on a 1959 green sedan
parked either in the lot
or on the street outside?
Nope.
Did you notice a
1953 convertible...
with a torn top?
I don't think so.
No, I'm sure not.
Did you roll up the windows
on a 1959 Thunderbird? Pink?
Nope.
Well, perhaps...
They've got those
little electric buttons.
Nothing you could
do without the keys.
You mean, there was such a car?
On a side street between
the buildings, mm-hm.
How long was it left there?
Oh, somebody came and
got it before morning, I guess.
That's all I noticed.
With the court's indulgence,
I should like to recall
another witness:
Mrs. Wainwright.
Your Honor, I must
protest this parade
of recalled
prosecution witnesses.
Surely the defense
can put on its own case.
Uh, I do have a
pink Thunderbird,
i-if that's all you
want to know.
I think, Mr. Burger...
I think, Your Honor,
that I'll withdraw my objection.
Step down, Mr. Miller.
Will you take the stand,
please, Mrs. Wainwright?
I remind you you're
still under oath.
Oh, is the car you just
heard described yours,
Mrs. Wainwright?
Yes, of course.
You've already found
that out, haven't you?
Can you tell this court how
your car happened to be there?
Yes, I parked it there.
Yesterday, Mrs. Wainwright,
you testified that at 9:30
p.m. on the night of the murder,
you telephoned
the Dunbar building,
trying to locate someone there.
Who?
Uh, Mr. Simon Atley.
Why did you think Mr. Stassi
would know where he was?
Well, he... He was with
him earlier in the evening.
And Simon paid him $25,000.
But if Mr. Stassi told you
that Mr. Atley wasn't there,
why did you then drive your
car to the Dunbar building?
Oh, that was just an excuse.
It was a... A part
of a plan that, hm,
just didn't work
out, that's all.
Plan? Yes.
I drove my car,
and parked it, and...
then I walked home.
Straight home.
Uh, Simon didn't want
to use his car. He...
He was afraid it
might be recognized.
You mean, Mr. Atley was there?
Oh, not with me.
He was going to wait in
the parking lot for Rick.
Please, Your Honor!
Order!
You see, Rick wanted more money.
Oh, everyone knows
what Rick was like.
And, uh... he was
threatening to expose Simon.
And Simon was going to
meet him that night and...
And straighten
things out, that's all.
And then he was trapped...
inside the parking lot.
And the gates
were going to close,
and... And he was trapped.
And... A-and he... He hadn't
got what he came for, and...
And he didn't know
what to do, and...
Get her off there!
Bailiff.
Simon, it... It doesn't
fit if I don't tell the truth.
It doesn't fit.
She's lying. I never had
any dealings with her.
Mrs. Wainwright...
wasn't all this
not what Mr. Atley did,
but what you did?
What do you mean?
You went to see Stassi...
you waited for him
in the parking lot.
And before the
watchman came on duty,
something terrible happened.
Something which made you panicky
when the gates started to close.
"Trapped," you said.
"Inside," you said.
The gates were going to close.
And then, didn't you drive
Stassi's car off that lot?
Well, he was in no
condition to drive.
I'd already killed him.
Well, her confession claimed
there was no premeditation.
They just sat in Rick's
car, uh, arguing and fighting.
The gun was right there.
Arguing?
She had once been
an accomplice of Rick's.
When Rick went out
and made his own deal,
she wanted to cut in.
Yeah, that's why she drove
him home. To get the money.
She also fired a
shot into the post
to make it look like the
murder took place there.
Yipe.
Excuse me.
You know...
sometimes this business is fun.
There it was, simply
shrieking at me.
Every single line the same,
every pleat, every button.
And there I stood in your...
Your precious Dunbar original,
that you wanted me to
palm off on my customers
for $200.
Oh, Rick, I'm glad you're here.
Mrs. Wainwright,
this is Rick Stassi,
my designer.
Your designer?
Your cartoonist. Your
fellow swindler, you mean.
Madam, you really should
wear a tighter girdle with that.
Rick, Mrs. Wainwright says
that she used to worked here,
back when my father was alive.
She now has a small and
exclusive shop on Wilshire.
I have such a bad
memory about faces.
Rick. The fact is someone
has stolen our designs again.
Stolen?
You mean, swiped,
pirated and duplicated.
Atley must have
had this in production
just about as long as you.
How do they manage it?
Wally, when you have been in
the business as long as I have,
you'll be more
philosophical about pirating.
Well, I don't have to
be philosophical about it.
You're getting my
entire order back.
And from now on, don't
even bother to call on me,
because I've had it
with Dunbar Fashions.
That's our third
cancellation this week.
Oh, well. Bathing suits
are what the name Dunbar
really stands for.
Have you looked
at these bikinis yet?
Rick, we're standing
on the edge of a cliff.
If any of our major designs
were to be stolen this year,
we're through. I mean
finished. Bankrupt.
Our new bathing suits? Yes.
Our whole new
spring line? Mm-hm.
Wally, don't!
We're gonna do them over.
Every single one of them.
In secret, you understand?
Under lock and key if necessary.
And when they're done,
we're gonna have
security around this place
that'll make Fort Knox
look like a parade ground.
Ouch. Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, Lisa.
You must be so tired.
There.
I'll put the red print
in your suitcase
as soon as it's off the machine.
You are going to Bud's for
photography tonight, aren't you?
Wally won't let any
of the other models
take suits out of the building.
Of course not.
Just like a spy movie, isn't it?
Oh, but just think,
after tomorrow you can
sleep and sleep and sleep.
Oh, don't forget to show
those changes to Rick.
Lisa... Wally does understand
the strain you've been under
these past few days,
oh, with the redesigning
and everything.
Wally, Wally, Wally.
You've turned into quite
an authority on the boss,
haven't you?
No. It's just that...
Well, he hasn't really
said anything yet.
Oh, darling, I didn't mean te...
More changes.
Scoot, dear.
So local girl makes good, eh?
From rags to riches.
From designer to boss
in six easy months.
Just what do you
mean, "from designer"?
Just what do you think I mean?
You have circles under
your eyes, my dear.
I should have told
our new scoutmaster
a little more clearly...
what hours I prefer
in my department
for the girls to keep.
Particularly the
ones who write letters
or... do any posing.
I thought you said you
threw everything away.
Rick, there wasn't really
anything between us.
What have you told Wally?
Stop it.
Please!
Oh, what do you want from me?
Oh. I'll let you know.
Let me go.
Oh, I hate you.
I could kill you.
Kitty?
Hello, honey.
Hey, I like it.
Lisa, I like it.
Oh. Thanks, Wally.
You should, boss.
It's the last one.
You'll now really have some
spring design worth stealing.
You mean I can now go see
about getting some protection?
Now's where's
the security starts.
In other words, you've just
finished the preparation stage,
is that it?
Specifically, there
are Rick's drawings,
some photographs and
the bathing suits themselves,
which are just being completed.
Uh, pilot models, you might say.
Seems as though you've
been very thorough so far.
The next three or four
weeks are the critical period.
I buy materials,
lay out patterns.
I show the suits to a
few selected buyers.
I already have a
magazine cover in work.
Hm-hm. That sounds
fairly public to me.
No, it's not.
The buyers we admit will
only be the most reputable.
Although I'd still like them
checked and rechecked.
Also, my own employees,
and I'd like an eye kept
on certain competitors,
like Simon Atley.
Della, see if Paul
Drake is in his office.
Have him drop by.
You know, Judge
Learned Hand once said,
"When it comes to fashions
and changing styles...
others may imitate
at their pleasure."
Mr. Mason, once
we're on the market,
I don't mind being copied.
It's too late to hurt us then.
In the meantime, we'll see
that you continue to have
the legal protection.
That your drawings and sketches
are private property.
Oh, Simon, there you are.
Your girl's gone home, I guess.
I... I didn't know
whether to knock
or just sort of crawl
through the keyhole
Madge, I'm in rather a hurry.
Simon, did you know
that Dunbar Fashions
tore up their spring
designs just ten days ago?
For heaven's sake, why do
you come to me with this tidbit?
You're not interested? No.
Now, if you'll excuse me...
What about the new designs?
The brand new ones?
Every single one of them.
Every new style he's got.
And just what do
you want out of this?
Money.
Madge, I ought to
have you arrested.
I wouldn't pay you 1
cent for stolen fashions.
Even Dunbar's.
And furthermore...
I don't even want
to hear about them.
Well...
all finished? Mm-hm.
You did remember to lock
your sketch file, didn't you, Rick?
Always, dear. Always.
I don't even dare
to take a pencil out of
the building anymore.
Have you been able to spot
some of the hired security detail?
No.
We can't really blame
Wally for worrying.
After all, he has
everything at stake.
Mm-hm.
I suppose our scoutmaster
is down in one of
the gaudy hotels,
welcoming his precious
buyers and editors
with sarsaparilla.
Rick.
Rick... now that
we're finally through...
Well... what I mean is,
here we have finished
a whole beautiful,
new spring line again.
I thought that...
Well, maybe you and I
could have a drink together.
Like we used to.
Remember your diet, dear.
Rick, you... You're not
angry with me, are you?
Just because I made
a few minor changes
in your design?
Oh, don't be ridiculous.
Every seamstress
has her little needle.
Rick. Rick, couldn't we just...?
Lisa. Don't you understand
I have other plans?
Isn't that clear enough?
Good night.
Rick. Rick, please, look at me.
Just once.
All right. Let's see.
It's 10:15.
Bud ought to be finished
with the pictures he
was taking by now.
Why don't you call him up?
Why don't you go out with
your husband for a change, huh?
Hi, Charlie. What's with
the, uh, photo studio?
A little night work, I guess.
The girl arrived
about ten minutes ago,
and she was carrying a suitcase.
Which girl? Kitty Wynne.
You want me to stay
here covering the place,
or the girl, if and
when she does leave?
No, don't worry about
the girl. She's all right.
Just worry about the studio:
lab, equipment, pictures
and the photographer.
Okay. Check with you later.
If anything happens,
I'll give you a call.
Okay.
Ah, that's it.
Lady Godiva on a bicycle.
Startled, snooty blush.
Bartender's just asked
you how old you are.
Uh... take the jacket off.
That was pretty bad.
Baby, what's wrong
with you tonight?
You... You're Cinderella.
Please, Bud, can't
we just take it?
It's the last one.
No more suits in there?
No, just the three.
Those are my own clothes.
You know, learning to relax
is like learning to stay alive.
Too many noises?
Shut your ear.
Got a worry?
Float it away.
I mean, look at me.
Now, I know I'm not much,
but look how
things just fall off.
Sometimes, baby...
Sometimes you've just
got to ride this crazy world...
sidesaddle.
Bud, wait.
If that's Wally
Dunbar, tell him...
Well, tell him we've already
finished, and I've gone home.
I have my own car.
Oh-ho.
So that's it.
You and Wally are
having a little trouble.
Bud, please, I...
I just have other things
to do tonight, that's all.
Yeah?
Oh. What?
I'm not coming home.
Well...
where are you going?
Out with that Stassi character?
Lisa, aren't you coming
home at all tonight?
Oh, just skip
it. It's all right.
Sure, sure.
I'll see you.
All right, all right.
Come on. I'm closing up.
Oh, it's you. Good night, sir.
Good night, Mr. Stassi.
Stassi? Would that be, uh,
Rick Stassi from
over at Dunbar's?
Maybe. Why?
Heh. I'm sorry. My
name's, uh, Paul Drake.
Mr. Dunbar told
me... Oh, sure, sure.
How are you, sir? Boss
said you'd be down.
Well, what can I show you?
Well, I'd...
kind of like to get
familiar with the building.
How, uh, things are locked up.
And... Oh, one
other thing. Yeah?
This employee list. Oh.
I wonder if you could give
me some descriptions to match
these names and
addresses. Well... I'd, uh...
I'd be glad to. As
soon as I lock up here,
I'll be right with you.
Mm, I couldn't find
everything at the building
he said I should find there.
Namely, those draft sketches
from the designer's file.
Mm, the watchman told me
that Stassi had just driven home,
I thought I'd run out
and check with him.
And... that's when you
found Kitty Wynne's car,
with those in the suitcase?
That's right.
They are our new fashions.
Go on, Paul.
She was just leaving
his house as I arrived.
And I followed her back
to the Dunbar building.
She, uh, put the suitcase
inside when she left.
I picked it up.
Look, Kitty was out for
photography yesterday.
She always returns
her things to the plant.
Mr. Dunbar... how
did those sketches
get into the suitcase?
There's no harm done, Mason.
We've got everything
back, haven't we?
I'm sorry if I act upset.
But I certainly
didn't expect Drake
to go snooping around
after my own girlfriend.
Excuse me, Mr. Mason,
but I thought you'd want
to see this right away.
It's from the morning paper.
An advance ad of
Simon Atley bathing suits.
"Soon available
in all our outlets."
They're the same.
Every one of them.
Mm-hm. They even admit it too.
"Budget styling identical
with that of the most
expensive fashion houses."
Mr. Dunbar...
before you call Kitty...
suppose we get your
designer over here.
What's his number?
State 1-1781.
Della. Mm.
Hello?
Hello, Mr. Stassi?
Uh, who is this, please?
Perry Mason calling.
Is Mr. Stassi there?
Oh, yes. He's here, all right.
In body, if not in spirit.
Who is this?
Why, this is Homicide,
Della. Lieutenant Tragg.
Oh, Mr. Mason.
I'm Sergeant Macready, remember?
Yes, sergeant, I remember.
Uh, Lieutenant Tragg wanted to
see Mr. Dunbar right away.
Well, lieutenant's
busy inside the house.
Be just a minute.
Lisa.
What are you doing here?
I didn't kill him, Wally.
Honestly, I didn't kill him.
Traffic detail picked her
up downtown about 3 a.m.
Suspicion, drunk driving.
She gave the name Rick Stassi.
Said he'd vouch that
she'd only had a couple.
I just said it, that's all.
It's the first thing
that came to me.
Only when they got
around to checking Stassi,
the milkman had
already been here.
Found him dead.
I... I really hadn't
been with Rick at all.
Where was Stassi
killed? Out here?
Just this side of the car.
Shot.
Was he getting in or out of
the car when it happened?
Well, neither one, maybe.
He apparently kept a gun
in the dash compartment.
That, and the fact there
had been a little scuffle
outside the car. We dug a
wild bullet out of the post.
Well, good morning, Perry.
And, uh, you're Mr. Dunbar, eh?
Did you ever see
this before, sir?
I don't think so.
You should. It's
registered to you.
No, no, no. Hm?
Oh. Well, that must be the one
that I gave to Rick Stassi then.
Well, that was weeks ago.
You see, I have several
guns. Target pistols mostly.
And, well, he asked me for one.
I guess it was a
.9 mm like that.
Why'd he want it, Mr. Dunbar?
Well, we've been taking steps
to maintain complete security.
You see, I've been concerned
about certain items in my
plant being stolen, and I...
Yes, I already know quite
a few things about that.
Well, Mrs. Ferrand, I don't
think we need you anymore
for a while.
Uh, Macready, have one
of the men drive her home.
Uh, this Rick Stassi
must have been, uh,
quite a ladies' man, I gather.
Mm-hm.
Has the, um, time of death
been established, lieutenant?
Well, the doctor says
it was before midnight.
I wonder if you'd mind, uh,
driving back to town in my car,
sort of fill me in, uh, on
a few things as we go?
Well, if Mr. Mason
thinks it's all right...
Oh, I'm sure the
lieutenant won't expect you
to answer any
questions except those
concerning your personal
experience of last night.
I'm sure you'll be
a great help, sir.
Well... goodbye, Perry.
Hi, Perry.
You locate Kitty Wynne?
No. No luck so far.
Perry...
how far are you really
going on this case?
Well, I'm... finding
a thing or two here.
Of course, technically,
I'm only concerned with...
whose property was
stolen from whom.
Well, that's what I figured.
The reason I asked was
there's a DA's man
in my office right now
with a court order for my
records on the Dunbar job.
Mm-hm. What's in them, Paul?
Well, so far, mostly just notes
on what my men
and I did last night.
Times, places, things like that.
How'd they find out your
agency was even mixed up in this?
Watchman at the Dunbar building.
Perry... Mr. Dunbar
is on the phone.
He's found Kitty down
at police headquarters.
They've apparently had her
there for quite a few hours.
And, uh, now, he says
they're booking
her for the murder.
Kitty. Why did you go
to Rick Stassi's house?
Kitty...
Mr. Dunbar wants
me to defend you.
I can't do that unless you and I
have faith in each other.
It's just that they've asked
me so many questions,
that's all.
And I know I've given
all the wrong answers.
Mm, take it easy.
Just tell me when
you arrived there.
Eleven o'clock.
And then what?
Well, I knocked, but
no one answered.
So I went inside.
Rick wasn't there. No one was.
You mean, no one was
in the hall or living room.
Or in the back either.
There's a studio,
and... And his room.
You... looked into
all those places?
Why?
A person usually
stands and calls out.
Well, I did at first, but...
Well, you see,
Rick had been hinting
around the past few days.
I didn't know
whether he told Wally
things that weren't
true or what.
That's why I went out there.
I just had to see him.
Kitty...
what was between
you and Rick Stassi?
I dated him a few
times, that's all.
It was last year, when I first
went to work for the company.
Before Wally was even there.
And... well,
I posed for Rick.
After all, he was an artist.
And I was so
young, I didn't know.
But there wasn't
anything between us.
Honestly.
I suppose Rick kept the
drawings he made of you,
plus any notes you
might have written him.
Anything like that.
Yes. How did you know?
Did you find those
drawings he'd saved?
Yes.
In a desk in his studio.
And my notes to him also.
Did you take that
material with you?
I was awfully scared.
I went to the living room
and... And grabbed my coat,
and ran out to my
car as fast as I could.
I hadn't even seen Rick,
so how could I kill him?
Please, Mr. Mason.
When you see Wally,
will you explain?
Let's go back to the desk and
those things you took out of it.
What did you do with them?
I took them home and
burned them up in the fireplace.
All right, Kitty...
let's come back
to something else.
You know that the...
Dunbar fashion designs
were being stolen, don't you?
Yes.
And you know that the work
sketches of those designs
were found in a suitcase
you'd been carrying?
I just don't know, that's all.
How they got there, or...
Or how long they'd been there,
or... Or anything.
All right, Kitty.
Please, Mr. Mason.
Is it going to be too
hard to have faith in me?
Hm-hm.
No.
All right, boys. We'll
handle it that way.
Okay. Goodbye.
Thanks. Thank you.
Hello, Mason.
Stuyvesant.
Ha. Simon, sweet,
you've done it again.
- Look. Just look.
- There it is.
Madge, I'm very busy.
Oh, I shouldn't wonder.
Getting the jump on Dunbar
with all those lovely styles of his.
I can just see
Rick Stassi's face.
He must be simply frying.
I'll bet he is too, Madge.
Only not the way you think.
Darling, I know that he's dead.
Please come in, Mr. Mason.
You are the sly one, aren't you?
You had it all arranged
all the time, didn't you?
Hm.
The trouble with
fashions is the, uh,
people who wear them. Hm.
Is she a friend, or someone
you've been doing business with?
No, no. No business. No, sir.
But I can tell you this.
I happen to know
that Madge Wainwright
was fired by Wally
Dunbar's father once.
And for suspicion of theft too.
Mr. Atley...
I'm interested as to why
you've just seen your lawyers.
I ask because I represent
Miss Kitty Wynne.
She's being held on
suspicion of murder.
Oh, I, uh, didn't know that.
I suppose the police must
have talked to you, though.
About some, uh...
fashion sketches in a suitcase?
Mr. Mason, I know you are
aware that in the United States,
there is absolutely no
copyright or patent protection
for fashion design.
In the state of California,
the penalty for
receiving stolen goods
can be as much as one
to ten years in prison.
What?
Of course, your
lawyers will tell you
that a conviction
depends upon proving
that the purchaser of said
goods knows they are stolen
at the time of purchase.
Just what are you suggesting?
But I must warn you, Mr. Atley,
that I've had private
detectives working
to maintain Dunbar
Fashions as private property,
so in the event any
of them were stolen...
Mr. Mason, I haven't touched
one single, solitary sketch,
bathing suit, photograph,
or anything else
belonging to Dunbar...
and neither has any
of my employees.
Thank you.
That's what I was
hoping you would say.
Then... Kitty Wynne
was in no way responsible
for your getting any of
these bathing suit fashions?
Now, how can I answer
a question like that?
Mr. Atley...
these are Dunbar work sketches
completed just yesterday.
I notice, in several cases,
the slightest differences
between them and the
sketches in your ads.
Now, apparently, a
woman named Lisa Ferrand
was often responsible for
the final Dunbar designs.
At least, she often added
touches to Rick Stassi's work.
Your designs don't seem
to have had the benefit
of those touches.
All right, what of it?
Well, it makes me wonder if
you didn't get these designs
from Rick Stassi himself.
He was the only person who
wouldn't have really needed
to... steal those designs,
since he had the
designs in his own head.
I paid $25,000 to Rick Stassi
for a complete
set of new designs,
which he came
here and drew for me.
I paid him in
cash, in $100 bills.
And there was
absolutely no one else
in any other way involved.
Thank you, Mr. Atley.
How do you suppose
those sketches
got into Kitty's suitcase?
Well, I'd say that
Mr. Stassi put them there.
Tsk. Small wonder
he was murdered.
Oh, but I'm so relieved
she's apparently
telling you the truth.
Come in, Paul.
Paul...
did the police get copies
of these records of yours?
Uh-huh. But you
know the old adage:
Give 'em a finger,
they want a whole hand.
Now it's me they have
a subpoena out for.
However, I did manage to
pick up a couple of things
down at headquarters. Oh, what?
The boys who went out
to Kitty Wynne's apartment
found paper ashes
in the fireplace.
So now they'll probably
reconstruct evidence
of that blackmail material.
Also, they found a
crumpled-up $100 bill
on the floor of her closet,
and another one in her car.
That, uh, mean anything to you?
Was there a bullet recovered
from the body, doctor?
Yes. It had been slowed down
by an angled
collision with the spine.
Now tell me, doctor...
when you arrived at the scene
of the crime with the police,
was Mr. Stassi substantially
as we see him here:
that is, half in and half out
of the right side of the car
with his feet on the
ground, and his body fallen
against the left
side of the seat?
That's correct.
Rigor mortis was quite complete.
I'd say death occurred
at least eight hours
prior to first examination.
That would make it before
11:30 the night before.
Mm-hm. Thank you, doctor.
That'll be all. Cross-examine.
Uh, no questions.
Uh, then, Mr. Ellis,
your tests definitely proved
that these bullets
were fired from this gun.
Is that correct?
That is correct, sir.
And that these...
are the matching cases.
Is that correct?
Yes, sir. Those cartridge cases
uh, bear the so-called
breech-block signature
of this gun.
We found them on the
cement floor of the carport
not far from the body.
And what else could you
tell us that you observed
about this murder weapon
when you examined it?
Well, the gun obviously
hadn't been used very much.
There was enough cleaning
oil, gun oil, on it to show streaks
where it had been wiped clean.
And also, there were
a couple of threads
caught in the breech mechanism.
Really? What kind of threads?
Linen. I see.
Thank you, sir. I
think that'll be all.
Your witness.
Uh, no questions.
I call...
Madge Wainwright.
It was about 9:30 when I talked
to Mr. Stassi on the telephone.
I should say he was
most alive at the time.
How did you happen to
phone the Dunbar office,
Mrs. Wainwright?
I was trying to locate
a friend of mine,
but he couldn't help me.
A... A woman
answered. That, uh...
That Lisa Ferrand
person, I believe.
And then Rick himself.
But, uh, he said he and
the woman were all alone,
so, um, hm...
naturally, I hung up.
But you were able to recognize
the voice as that of Mr. Stassi?
Oh, yes, of course.
There was a day
when I knew Mr. Stassi.
Though, of course,
he forgot any girl
after she passed
the age of, uh, 22.
Yes. Now, you said that you...
once worked for
the Dunbar company.
Was the defendant
in their employ
at the time that you were there?
Yes, it was, um, last year.
She burst on
the place, like a...
springtime off the half shell.
Your Honor...
Uh, just yes or no,
if you don't mind,
Mrs. Wainwright.
Now, of your own knowledge,
what was the relationship
between the defendant
and Rick Stassi?
Well, I know that she posed
for him in the near-nude.
I also know that
she wrote him letters,
which he showed me,
that were certainly
not innocent.
Uh, what else do you have
to know about these things?
I mean, looks, touches, the...
The whole electricity
of two people
having a...
A-a relationship?
No!
That's not true!
No!
I think that's all, Mrs.
Wainwright. Thank you.
Your witness.
Mrs. Wainwright...
were there other girls at Dunbar
that you would call attractive?
Yes, all of them were...
one way or another.
And to how many of them
did Mr. Stassi... give
special attention?
All of them.
Mm, for a while, at least.
You're very attractive
yourself, Mrs. Wainwright.
Thank you.
Did he give you
special attention?
For... how long?
Thank you.
That'll be all.
I could hear them
talking in Rick's office,
but I wasn't sure of
what they were saying.
And then I heard Kitty
shout, "Let me go!"
And I heard her say, "I
hate you. I could kill you."
And this was the afternoon
of the day he was murdered?
Yes.
Thank you, Miss Lacoste.
Your witness.
Uh, no questions.
You may step down.
I'm sorry, Kitty.
Well, let's see now,
it was about 10:30
when the wife called.
Uh, Lisa, that is. She
had driven downtown
after leaving the
office, she said.
And at what time did Kitty
Wynne leave your studio?
Well, we quit right after that.
So as quick as she
could slip into her clothes.
I guess 10:35, or 40.
Kitty was pretty upset
and anxious, like I said.
I see. Thank you,
Mr. Ferrand. I think that'll be all.
To you, counselor.
Mr. Ferrand, when did
you develop the pictures
you'd taken of the defendant?
Well, to tell you the
truth, I decided to replace
a broken bottle first.
Then you also went out
about 10:35 or
10:40 that evening?
I was tired.
I had wanted a
drink, that's all.
I was back to fix the
pictures by... midnight.
Does that answer your question?
Would any of the places
you went to during that time
remember your presence?
Who remembers the furniture?
Hm.
What about your wife?
She was downtown.
Perhaps you had
a drink with her.
No.
Then you didn't see
your wife all that night?
She had nothing to do with this.
What kind of accusations
you trying to make?
Are you always so
quick-tempered, Mr. Ferrand?
Thank you, that'll be all.
You may stand down.
And then we... We talked
about going out together...
but Rick was in a hurry.
That was the last
time I saw him.
Thank you.
Counselor.
Mrs. Ferrand...
now, just exactly what
is your job at Dunbar's?
I'm a seamstress in
the design department.
Aren't you the one who
often adds the final touches
to Dunbar designs?
The things that some people say
make those designs
so distinctive?
Sometimes, I...
I guess I helped.
What is your
salary, Mrs. Ferrand?
I'm paid $150 a week.
Have any idea how much, uh...
Rick Stassi received
for his services?
Now, I think ab...
About $20,000 a year.
Oh, but if you mean, uh...
did that bother me, the...
The difference between us...
I never gave it a
thought, as long as...
As long as what?
It's not true that I
did anything special.
Rick was the designer.
Rick did everything.
Rick deserved everything.
Even being murdered,
Mrs. Ferrand?
Mr. Stassi drove
out of the parking lot
at 10:30 on the button, sir.
Well, how can you
be so sure of the time?
Well, that's when
I come to work.
Uh, I just punched my clock.
You see, I'm watchman
for that building,
and my first job is, uh,
locking the fence gate
and, uh, cranking
up the windows.
But, of course,
when he hit the horn,
and I saw that
flashy car of his, I...
I let Mr. Stassi out.
I think that'll be all, sir.
Thank you. Your witness.
Did, uh, Mr. Stassi
say good night to you?
No, I guess he didn't.
But I said it to him.
Are you sure it was Mr. Stassi
who drove out at 10:30?
Well, of course
it was. I saw him.
I saw his car, and
I, uh, saw my clock.
Now, you said part of your job
was... cranking up windows.
What do you mean?
Well, car windows.
On nights it looks like there's
gonna be rain, you see?
Hm.
Well, on the, uh,
night in question,
there were intermittent showers
beginning late in the evening,
and, uh, clearing
shortly after dawn.
And did this circumstance
contribute in any way
to your findings at
the scene of the crime?
Well, there are no sidewalks
or paved shoulders in that area.
So we noticed that any cars
parked in the Stassi place
left, uh, muddy tire tracks.
Well, go on, lieutenant.
What exactly did you find?
Well, Mr. Stassi's own car
left tracks coming into the drive,
of course.
And then there
were marks of tires
similar to those of a car
belonging to Mr. Paul Drake.
A third set of tracks was
parked in front of the house
with the same tire design...
as the defendant's car.
And that's all? Just
those three cars?
That's all.
I see. Now, lieutenant...
I show you this handkerchief,
and I ask if you recognize it.
I do. That has my
identifying mark on it.
Where did you find
it? Lying on the ground,
in, uh, front of
the Stassi home.
What's the material of this
handkerchief, lieutenant?
It's linen. It's Irish linen.
I see. Now, I notice there's
some dark stains on it.
Did you analyze those?
Yes. Those stains
are from gun oil.
The same oil that was
on the murder weapon.
And up in this corner
of this handkerchief...
Yes, the initials, uh, "K.W."
K.W. Kitty Wynne.
If it please the court, I
should like this handkerchief
and this attached
chemist's report
entered in evidence
for the people.
Mr. Mason?
No objections.
Cross-examine.
Is it yours?
Can you tell?
Well? Mr. Mason?
I have no questions
of this witness.
Court adjourned until 10 a.m.
I don't know, Mr. Mason.
I just don't know.
I guess I had a
handkerchief in my purse.
Mine are like that.
Did you keep the purse with you?
What?
At Rick's house,
when you went into the studio.
Yes, I guess I must have.
I put the drawings
and things in it.
Well, what about your coat?
Remember you said
you picked your coat up
when you ran out to the car?
Yes, that's right.
What kind of a
coat was it, Kitty?
What does it look like?
It's just a jacket.
An old car coat.
It's beige, and it
has slash pockets.
All right.
Della... call Paul.
Tell him to meet me at the
Dunbar building right away.
Then try and find
that beige jacket.
I'll see you back at the office.
Time to get up.
Oh.
I'm sorry I'm so late, Della.
That Kitty's coat?
Mm-hm. The landlady
helped me find it.
Let me see the pockets.
Remember your
trench coat? Now, here.
You put your
hand in the outside,
goes into the pocket.
Or you could put it
right through the slip
to the inside of the coat.
Now, suppose someone
was there when Kitty arrived.
Kitty started to look around...
finally went into the study.
Mm-hm. Leaving her
coat in the living room.
Mm-hm.
You know, most girls
carry handkerchiefs
in their pocket, Perry.
I know I do.
Now, suppose
whoever was there...
wiped the gun off
with her handkerchief.
And then to incriminate
Kitty put the handkerchief
and a couple of those $100
bills into her coat pocket,
or what felt like
the coat pocket.
Then Kitty came running
through the house...
grabbed her coat in
the living room, ran out.
The handkerchief must
have fallen out of the lining
even before she reached the car.
One of the bills fell
unnoticed to the floorboard,
and one of the bills
apparently stayed
caught in her coat
until she reached home.
And that's the way
it could've been.
Hi.
Well, we were lucky.
Here's the rest of the
information you wanted.
And now, if no one
minds, I did have a date.
At this hour?
No. No one minds.
Della will still have
to put this together.
Coffee, anyone?
Now, to recapitulate,
you saw Miss Wynne come
running out of that house
at exactly what time, Mr. Drake?
I arrived at exactly 11:10.
And it took you how long to get
there from the Dunbar building?
About 20 minutes.
Go on.
Well, as I said, I
arrived at 11:10.
By the time I'd looked into
her car and she'd come out,
driven off, and I followed
her, must have been 11:15.
Now, Mr. Drake...
did you at any time see
so much as one indication
of any other person
or any other car
anyplace on that road,
either approaching
or leaving that house?
No, sir, I did not.
Thank you, Mr. Drake.
Thank you for the accuracy
of your observations,
and those of your operatives.
And thank you for not making
me treat you as a hostile witness.
To you, counselor.
Mr. Drake...
let's return to the Dunbar
building for a moment.
To the, uh, parking
lot between buildings.
Now, you stated
you arrived just as
Mr. Stassi's car drove off.
I stated I heard the watchman
say, "Good night, Mr. Stassi."
But you did see his car
drive out through the gates?
Yes, I did.
Tell me, had it begun
to rain at that time?
Mm, there was a little drizzle.
But was it enough to...
cloud the windows of a car?
Well, I didn't actually
look at Mr. Stassi,
if that's what you mean.
The headlights were
too bright anyway.
May it please the court, I
would like to recall a witness.
Which witness,
Mr. Mason? What for?
Your Honor, I object.
Counselor?
Uh, Mr. Miller, the watchman.
It seems to me
he's more qualified
to answer my next question.
What is the question?
One I should have asked before.
Was Mr. Stassi alone in the car?
I can't answer that,
sir. I don't know.
If it please the court, I'm
gonna withdraw my objection
to the night watchman
being recalled.
I think that question
should be answered.
He was alone, I tell you.
Of course he was alone.
But Mr. Miller, you must admit
that the windows
might have been fogged.
You hardly even looked in
the direction of the headlights.
"Good night,
Mr. Stassi," says I.
It was like that every night.
You get an impression.
You know what I mean?
Of what? Could you tell
what clothes he was wearing?
Well, maybe not that, no...
An impression of a hat?
Did he always wear a hat?
Well, as a matter
of fact, he did.
Of course, I couldn't
swear that he had one on.
Well, then how could you
swear there wasn't somebody
sitting beside him,
hunched down in
the seat perhaps?
Because it's the
kind of thing you see.
The car drives away...
one person in back of the wheel.
Anybody else and they'd
have to be flat on the floor,
let me tell you.
Very well.
Now, um, you mentioned
rolling up car windows.
Yes, sir.
Did you by any chance
roll up the windows
on a 1959 green sedan
parked either in the lot
or on the street outside?
Nope.
Did you notice a
1953 convertible...
with a torn top?
I don't think so.
No, I'm sure not.
Did you roll up the windows
on a 1959 Thunderbird? Pink?
Nope.
Well, perhaps...
They've got those
little electric buttons.
Nothing you could
do without the keys.
You mean, there was such a car?
On a side street between
the buildings, mm-hm.
How long was it left there?
Oh, somebody came and
got it before morning, I guess.
That's all I noticed.
With the court's indulgence,
I should like to recall
another witness:
Mrs. Wainwright.
Your Honor, I must
protest this parade
of recalled
prosecution witnesses.
Surely the defense
can put on its own case.
Uh, I do have a
pink Thunderbird,
i-if that's all you
want to know.
I think, Mr. Burger...
I think, Your Honor,
that I'll withdraw my objection.
Step down, Mr. Miller.
Will you take the stand,
please, Mrs. Wainwright?
I remind you you're
still under oath.
Oh, is the car you just
heard described yours,
Mrs. Wainwright?
Yes, of course.
You've already found
that out, haven't you?
Can you tell this court how
your car happened to be there?
Yes, I parked it there.
Yesterday, Mrs. Wainwright,
you testified that at 9:30
p.m. on the night of the murder,
you telephoned
the Dunbar building,
trying to locate someone there.
Who?
Uh, Mr. Simon Atley.
Why did you think Mr. Stassi
would know where he was?
Well, he... He was with
him earlier in the evening.
And Simon paid him $25,000.
But if Mr. Stassi told you
that Mr. Atley wasn't there,
why did you then drive your
car to the Dunbar building?
Oh, that was just an excuse.
It was a... A part
of a plan that, hm,
just didn't work
out, that's all.
Plan? Yes.
I drove my car,
and parked it, and...
then I walked home.
Straight home.
Uh, Simon didn't want
to use his car. He...
He was afraid it
might be recognized.
You mean, Mr. Atley was there?
Oh, not with me.
He was going to wait in
the parking lot for Rick.
Please, Your Honor!
Order!
You see, Rick wanted more money.
Oh, everyone knows
what Rick was like.
And, uh... he was
threatening to expose Simon.
And Simon was going to
meet him that night and...
And straighten
things out, that's all.
And then he was trapped...
inside the parking lot.
And the gates
were going to close,
and... And he was trapped.
And... A-and he... He hadn't
got what he came for, and...
And he didn't know
what to do, and...
Get her off there!
Bailiff.
Simon, it... It doesn't
fit if I don't tell the truth.
It doesn't fit.
She's lying. I never had
any dealings with her.
Mrs. Wainwright...
wasn't all this
not what Mr. Atley did,
but what you did?
What do you mean?
You went to see Stassi...
you waited for him
in the parking lot.
And before the
watchman came on duty,
something terrible happened.
Something which made you panicky
when the gates started to close.
"Trapped," you said.
"Inside," you said.
The gates were going to close.
And then, didn't you drive
Stassi's car off that lot?
Well, he was in no
condition to drive.
I'd already killed him.
Well, her confession claimed
there was no premeditation.
They just sat in Rick's
car, uh, arguing and fighting.
The gun was right there.
Arguing?
She had once been
an accomplice of Rick's.
When Rick went out
and made his own deal,
she wanted to cut in.
Yeah, that's why she drove
him home. To get the money.
She also fired a
shot into the post
to make it look like the
murder took place there.
Yipe.
Excuse me.
You know...
sometimes this business is fun.