Professor Gleason.
Beg pardon, madam. Professor Gleason is here.
Very nice of you to come. I'm Mrs. Manderley.
- I've heard a great deal about you. - Nice things, I hope.
Oh, do you know Brenda and Walter Hartford?
We should know him, Lucy. We invited him.
Of course. Where are my wits today?
You have been a bit odd. Something's on your mind.
I guess it's just that I'm not used to having guests.
Paul, my husband, prefers to bury himself out here in the desert for his work.
Oh, Dr. Retling. Have you met Professor Gleason?
- Very happy to know you. - How do you do?
- Won't you join us, Professor? - Don't mind if I do.
- How about you, Doctor? - Not just now, thank you.
- Brenda? - You can always count on me.
She's never been known to refuse.
Lucy. Who is this stranger?
You know I dislike having people interrupt my work.
- But you invited Brenda and Walter to... - Walter is my lawyer.
- He's here on business. - Relax, Paul.
Professor Gleason is going to tell us about the monkeys in our family trees.
- I didn't know you were a genealogist. - Oh, yes, yes.
Matter of fact, I hope this visit...
will permit me to clear up some points on your family.
Aren't you descended from the famous Borgias?
Two things we never discuss in this house:
my family and Paul's accident.
I don't want to seem insistent...
but weren't you the Princess della Borgia before your marriage?
Yes, but our branch of the family didn't go in for poison.
Lucy, please. We will not discuss it.
We ought to break this up. Manderley's upset.
I think I'll go and dress for dinner. Coming, Lucy?
Yes, it is late.
That was an excellent cocktail, Mrs. Manderley.
Won't you have another one, Professor? Please do.
Thank you. Now I know you have forgiven me.
Why, Professor. There's nothing to forgive.
Dinner at 8:00 sharp.
I'm sorry if I've offended you, Mr. Manderley.
Oh, it's quite all right. It's my fault.
You see, I'm not used to guests.
Mr. Manderley?
- Oh, you've forgotten your cocktail. - Oh, yes. Thank you.
How about a rubber of bridge?
That's an idea. You can count me in.
Do you play...
He must have fainted.
Let's get him up to his room.
Paul! Where are you?
- Mr. Manderley. - Stop that infernal racket.
What do you want?
Oh, there you are.
Dr. Retling would like to see Professor Gleason's cocktail glass...
and I can't find it.
Well, the servants probably swept it up and threw it away.
Why should he want it?
Now, take it easy. Don't get excited.
Gleason's been poisoned.
- Poisoned? But that's impossible. - There's every symptom.
You've gotta prepare yourself for trouble if he doesn't pull through.
What do you mean?
The papers are bound to remember Lucy's maiden name... a descendant of the Borgias.
- You're not suggesting that she... - Of course not.
But you dread scandal, and if the papers dig up her brother...
He didn't poison that girl. The Italian courts acquitted him.
I know. But there were cocktails involved in that case too.
Can't you see what the newspapers will do to that?
Like brother, like sister.
How is he, Doctor?
It was a heart attack?
I'm sorry. Mr. Gleason's death indicates poison.
The autopsy will tell us the truth.
Autopsy? Here?
Doctor, isn't there some way of hushing up this man's dying in my house?
I'm afraid it has to be reported to the police.
Walter, you're my lawyer. Get me out of this.
I don't know. What you ask Dr. Retling to do is highly unethical.
- Quite. - I'll make it worth your while.
I'm sorry, Mr. Manderley.
Wait a minute. Here's a possibility.
Doctor, if you saw the body in a hotel in town...
couldn't you say he died there?
It will save my wife and me a great deal of pain and embarrassment.
We could take Gleason to the hotel at Mojave Wells.
I'll make it worth your risk.
No one knows of his death yet except the three of us.
No one need ever know.
Gee, it's great to be back in San Francisco again.
Boy, I don't think I'll ever walk again.
They must have marched us a million miles.
Why do they have to walk so much in the army?
Excellent training for brains of all young sprouts.
How do you figure that?
Man who walk have both feet on ground.
Yes?
Gee, I thought I'd never get my leave.
One week off for good behavior.
Say, Pop, what's this auto trip you got planned for us?
You know something, Pop?
What I'd like now is the relaxation of a good murder case.
Urgent letter threaten to cancel pleasure trip with number two son.
Who's it from?
Letter signed Mrs. Paul Manderley.
Formerly Princess Lucrezia della Borgia.
Lucrezia Borgia? The poisoner? Oh, but she's dead.
- This lady use typewriter. - What does she want?
"Dear Mr. Chan.
"Your presence is most urgently requested at Manderley Castle for assistance and advice.
My life is in danger."
A case! Oh, boy. What a break for me.
"Do not communicate with me.
"A car will await you each day at noon at Mojave Wells, California.
"This note bearing my crest will identify you to my chauffeur.
Bring no one else."
She's crazy. You can't go there alone.
Say, what is this castle anyway?
Have heard of strange castle in desert owned by scholarly millionaire.
No electricity. No telephone.
No phone? Borgias. Poisoners.
Say, Pop, I don't like the looks of this.
- You'll need me. - No. Letter says bring no one else.
Well, but suppose you have to call for help.
Number two son is nursemaid to flock of pigeons.
Parent will borrow one for emergency S.O.S.
But, Pop, you can't do that.
They belong to the Signal Corps.
I'm supposed to release 'em for test flights on our auto trip.
Will do same.
"United States Army...
carrier pigeon number 13576."
Prefer briefer name.
Ming Toy... "Daughter of Happiness."
But, Pop, that's a boy pigeon.
Ming Toy temporary alias while on case.
If you take it, I'm going with you.
But I'll be court-martialed if I lose him.
Uh, guardhouse excellent guarantee for offspring's whereabouts.
This here's the Mojave Wells Hotel.
Nice place. Best in town.
- Perhaps only one in town. - Yeah. Clean rooms though.
Never needs exterminator man.
- My brother-in-law here runs it. - That's me.
Oh, a chop suey salesman, huh?
Well, don't try and sell me. I hate the stuff.
Uh, interruption, please.
Has motorcar arrived yet from Manderley Castle?
Is that where you're goin'?
You're crazy to go out there.
Offer me a million dollars and I wouldn't go.
Thank you so much, but I'm expecting castle car conveyance at noon.
You'll be sorry.
Oh, no, you don't.
You can't bring bad luck to my hotel.
We don't want nobody that does business with the castle.
She's put a curse on us.
- Who, please? - Mrs. Manderley.
She's a queer number.
At least, her doctor says so.
And her husband goes around town with half a face.
- Won't talk civil to nobody. - Uh, please.
Desire to await castle automobile here...
- in shade of porch. - No.
No. You better get used to the heat.
It's 35 miles to the castle.
You can fry an egg on that highway at noon.
Already have sensation of fried egg.
Hi, Lizzie.
You have enemies, mister.
Man without enemies like dog without fleas.
I see death reaching for you, like an arrow.
Desert without Indians very safe.
Leave the desert. Death waits for you out there.
Go back where you came from... unless you're prepared to die.
Man who fears death die thousand times.
It's your life. But remember, I warned you.
You keep away from here. Don't park in front of my hotel.
One moment, please. Driver of automobile.
- I am expected at castle in desert. - Yes, sir.
Don't try to come here again.
And tell that doctor not to bring you into my hotel to die...
like he did that fellow last week.
Just a minute.
- Is this the car for Manderley Castle? - Yes, sir.
If you're going there, you can get off my porch.
The crest of the Borgias... I was told it would get me transportation to the castle.
Very well, sir.
Most grateful for companionship on long desert journey.
You're the new cook or houseboy?
Lieutenant Chan, Honolulu Police, imitating weekend guest.
- Is that so? - Yeah. Your name is, uh...
Watson King.
I specialize in minding my own business.
Very lonesome pastime.
Know who that second man was?
Checked in last night. I never saw him before.
He'll die a violent death, he will.
And his murderer shall go unpunished.
- Ming Toy merely traveling companion. - So I see.
You're responsible for the creature's behavior.
Fear unnecessary. This bird perfect gentleman.
Trained by United States Army.
I shall tell Mrs. Manderley you've arrived.
What are you doing here?
- Mr. Manderley? - Yes. What do you want?
- Have request from honorable wife to visit castle. - Well, who are you?
- Lieutenant Chan. - Charlie Chan?
- Yes. - The detective?
Well, why should my wife send for you?
Am also curious.
I don't understand. Come into my study.
Charlie Chan! Hello. How are you?
- Most happy to meet Mr. Detheridge again. - You know each other?
Yes. Met back east. Two years ago, wasn't it?
Young professor of medieval history...
most helpful in solving difficult case.
You are employed at castle now?
No, just doing some research in Manderley's rare books. I leave Monday.
Yes, Carl is the head of the European History Department at Manderley College.
House of learning built by honorable father.
- Carl, will you excuse us, please? - Certainly, sir.
See you later, Charlie. Let me know if I can help you.
Detective make visit merely as humble tourist.
Same old Charlie. He never gives out.
- Sit down, Mr. Chan. - Thank you.
Now, Mr. Chan, be frank with me. Tell me why you came here.
Merely respond to invitation from honorable wife.
And not to check up on my sanity...
because of my peculiar mode of living?
You see, I had a rather serious accident.
My wife and I prefer the solitude of the desert.
I'm quite sound mentally.
I'm an historian.
Have read most distinguished work.
Very heavy with pages of knowledge.
I pursue my research into the 16th century...
by studying its books, its art...
even putting up with some of the inconveniences...
no telephone or electric light.
I want to understand the workings...
of the minds of men who lived 400 years ago.
You wouldn't call that insane, would you, Mr. Chan?
To study Eskimo or African Pygmy...
anthropologist must make their home his home.
I'm glad you appreciate my point.
I do that so that I can penetrate the psychology of the 16th-century mind.
I've tried to live and think as Cesare Borgia.
You see, he's the subject of my book.
- Honorable wife is descendant of famous Borgia family, no? - Well, what of it?
What ifher name was Borgia?
She's just as sane as you are. So am I.
Why, I'm the sole administrator of a $20 million estate.
An incompetent man couldn't do that, could he?
What is it, Doctor?
- Your sedative. - Yes. Now observe me, as Dr. Retling does...
and prove for yourself whether I'm sane or not.
You must take it now.
Oh, don't talk to me as if I were a child, an incompetent.
My accident had nothing to do with my brain.
Here, I'll take this when I feel like it.
Mr. Chan, I believe.
I am Dr. Retling, the family physician.
You mustn't mind his outbursts.
He suffers from anxiety neurosis.
He dreads scandal.
You see, under his father's will...
he loses control of the estate...
if he's involved in any notoriety...
that might dishonor the Manderley name.
Understand.
Last week, when Professor Gleason, the genealogist, upset him...
he was behaving very peculiar.
Excuse, please.
What is nature of Mr. Manderley's accident?
An explosion. Frightful scar, I hear.
You have not seen scar?
Nobody has, except the doctor who treated it.
That was years ago, and he has been very peculiar about it.
Accident did not affect his mind?
I prefer not to qualify as a psychiatrist, Mr. Chan.
Caution sometimes mother of suspicion.
Sorry to interrupt, but Mrs. Manderley would like to see you, Charlie.
Excuse, please.
Lucy, this is Mr. Chan. Mrs. Manderley.
Wilson just told me you'd arrived, Mr. Chan.
Whatever brings you to our desert?
My husband hadn't told me you were coming.
Excuse, please.
Why, I didn't write this.
It's a forgery.
Whoever could have done such a thing?
Why, this isn't even the way I sign my name.
And it's not my idea of a practical joke.
I'm so sorry you've been put to all this inconvenience...
but I didn't send for you.
Practical joke sometimes disguise for sinister motive.
- Oh, don't say that, Mr. Chan. - So sorry.
With kind permission, will make quiet departure.
- Mrs. Manderley. - Yes, Wilson?
Something most extraordinary. The car has been damaged.
- Well, what happened? - The distributor has been removed.
- What a silly thing to do. - Well, if it's missing, find it.
- We've searched everywhere, sir. - Thank you, Wilson.
- Keep on looking. It must be found. - Very good, madam.
I refuse to believe that any of my guests would disable the car.
For what purpose?
Lovers use element of surprise. Also criminals.
Criminals?
Well, what are we worrying about? We can use Walter Hartford's car.
No. They came with me in a taxi.
Unless we have another visitor, we may not see another car for weeks.
And no telephone.
Inhabitants of this castle now marooned 35 miles from civilization.
Well, at least we won't starve.
Manderley has provisions for months, and an excellent wine cellar.
- I'm happy. - Come on, Carl.
- Let's see about this distributor. - Okay.
First you receive a mysterious invitation...
and now we're all cut off from the outside world.
Why?
Detective sometimes summoned to witness crime.
That's an odd piece of reasoning.
Not if criminal hopes that finger of suspicion...
point to innocent person.
With kind permission, will remain...
to search for missing part of automobile.
- Of course. - Even in baggage of guest?
- Oh, but they'd never think of doing... - Hello, Lucy.
Hope you don't mind me getting here a day early.
Oh, no. No, not at all.
I see you've got everything ready for me.
Good quality too.
You are maker of images that mind own business?
Extraordinary deduction, Mr. Chan.
In a week this will be the head and shoulders of Mrs. Manderley.
- That's the commission, isn't it, Lucy? - Sculptor is old friend?
Oh, yes. Haven't seen each other in ages.
Not since you bought that figure of mine. One of my best. Remember, Lucy?
Then she read about my New York show last month, so here I am.
By the way, Lucy, I'm anxious to meet your husband too.
I've never had the pleasure.
Why... Why, yes. That's right, Jim. You never have.
Correction, please.
Old friend Jim now known as Watson King.
Excuse.
Last stop. All out for Mojave Wells.
Hey, Hank! Got a customer for you.
Salesman, huh? Oriental novelties or chop suey?
Give you a fine room. Two bucks without breakfast.
I'm not stopping here. Can I hire a car?
Sure, you can use mine.
Hey, you kids, get away from that car. How many times have I told you?
- Where you goin'? - Mrs. Manderley's castle.
Not in my car, you don't. And you can't set foot in my hotel either.
But I've got to get out there. It's a matter of life and death.
Hey, young fella.
You got 25 bucks?
- Oh, oh, you mean you'll take me? - Sure.
We won't get there till after dark, but I ain't afraid.
- Seventy miles, round trip. - All I've got is $20, and I, uh...
- Oh, I'll trust you for the rest. - Okay, let's hurry.
I couldn't help overhearing, mister...
so I'm going to the castle with you.
There's death out in that desert.
What do you mean? I mean, how do you know?
The stars. They tell me everything.
- In the daytime? - No. At night.
Say, where's the castle? I don't see any.
Can't miss it, sonny. Just follow this road about two miles.
I don't go no closer.
Hey, wait a minute!
- I knew he'd do that. - Well, why didn't you tell me?
We'll be much better off alone.
I still don't see the castle.
- It's just over that hill. - Wait. I'll take a look.
Oh, there it is.
Come on.
- Fourteenth century. - Yes.
- Admirable collection you have here. - Well, thank you, Mr. Chan.
It's taken me a great many years to assemble it.
Mr. Manderley?
Yes? What is it?
We found this man on the prowl outside. I took his gun.
- Who are you? - Fletcher. Arthur Fletcher.
I was hunting and I lost my bearings. Stop searching me.
You're a trespasser.
Well, he looks harmless.
- You're a private detective, Mr. Fletcher. - Anything wrong with that?
Wait outside.
What do you want here?
What makes you think I want anything?
First Mr. Chan and then you. Why are you here?
Well, I might as well come clean.
I was on my way to see you when my car broke down.
I represent Professor Gleason's family.
Yes? Go on.
They aren't satisfied about the way he died.
What do you mean? He had a heart attack in the hotel.
- That's what your doctor said. - What are you driving at?
The Gleason doctor said there was something peculiar about the condition of his skin.
It suggested poisoning.
Maybe he was sick while he was here, or he ate something...
Professor Gleason didn't stay here for dinner.
- He died in Mojave Wells, you know. - I'm not so sure.
Well, you can question Dr. Retling. He'll be down in just a moment.
I'd like to very much.
I have notes on Professor Gleason's death right here.
Uh, may examine, please?
As Mr. Manderley's legal representative...
I don't like your attitude, Fletcher.
- You seem to be accusing him. - I'm not accusing him of anything.
I'd like to speak to Mrs. Manderley.
I understand she had a brother who was tried for poisoning a girl.
Mind you, I don't say it runs in the family...
but it's my job to check every angle...
and satisfy myself that Professor Gleason didn't die in this house...
or I'll have to ask the police to step in.
I'm Mrs. Manderley. I couldn't help overhearing what you said.
- I'm sorry if I offended you. - Oh, I understand.
And I'll answer all your questions after dinner.
Will you be our guest, Mr. Fletcher?
- Why, thank you, but... - That's quite all right.
And I promise not to poison you.
- Wilson? - Yes, madam?
- There'll be another guest for dinner. - Very good, madam.
- Wait here for me. - But I've got to get to my pop.
Wait here.
Who's there?
Is anybody down there?
Paul, we're waiting for you.
Coming, dear.
I thought I heard someone in the dungeon.
Brenda, please. That organ won't run away.
I'll be right there.
In olden times, the unexpected guest...
was always made welcome with the first glass of wine.
- Mr. Chan? - But lady of house always taste same first.
Thank you.
For Mr. Fletcher.
Thank you.
I'd like to propose a toast to Paul Manderley...
reincarnation of Cesare Borgia.
- May his book be a great best seller. - Thank you, Walter.
When will the book be out, Mr. Manderley?
I'm not sure. Perhaps three or four years.
Fletcher, are you ill?
- Cup of welcome contain evidence of powerful drug. - Poison?
Are you sure?
- We'll have to notify the police. - Impossible.
No motorcar. No telephone.
In my house... First Gleason, now Fletcher.
- It can't be. - Poison.
Hey, Pop!
- The old witch did it. - Excuse, please.
Intruder is number two son, Jimmy Chan.
Vacationer from army. How you get here?
- I fell into the cellar. - From San Francisco hotel?
Say, Pop, somebody wants to kill you.
This letter... it came after you left the hotel.
- What does it say? - Um, payment due on icebox.
Oh, I get it.
Look, Pop, I've got this case all figured out. I was listening.
There's a roomful of poison downstairs, and somebody up here helped himself.
- That's preposterous. - Uh, please, may see poison ring on finger?
- This is coat of arms of Cesare Borgia? - Yes.
Poison compartment not used recently... perhaps not for centuries.
Uh, suggest ladies may retire.
- Men, please, will remain. - But I tell you, Pop, the old witch did it.
- What are you raving about? - Madame Saturnia! She was down in the poison room.
- That stargazer? Why, she's not here. - But she came with me.
- I saw her. - One moment, please.
Observations of expensively educated offspring sometimes very good.
- May see poison room, please? - Yes.
Unpleasant thought, but obvious...
one of us who sat down to dinner is a murderer.
They say poison is a woman's weapon.
Not always, Doctor.
Every 16th century castle had its own apothecary or alchemist.
But not chamber devoted to a hundred poisons.
I study them as Cesare Borgia did.
I wouldn't tell you that, Mr. Chan, would I, if I had a guilty conscience?
Guilty conscience like dog in circus... many tricks.
Oh, these old poisons have only been used on gophers, rats and coyotes.
Contradiction, please.
Content from this bottle put Mr. Fletcher to sleep.
But that's not a poison.
Am aware of same.
Old Chinese herb doctor use tagara weed as drug.
Too much of anything can kill.
Excuse, please.
You give desert pests large diet of deadly nightshade?
No.
- Much absent from bottle. - Well, there wasn't much to begin with... only two ounces.
Less than quarter ounce remain.
Somebody has stolen enough poison to kill all of us.
Would suggest you keep laboratory door locked.
Come.
Hey, Pop. Look!
I knew it. I knew I couldn't hide from you.
What are you doing out here? Did my wife send for you?
The stars sent me, to help you and your wife destroy those incriminating bottles.
No poisons, no evidence.
But you came too soon.
Why you wish to remove evidence?
To keep death from my friends' house.
Suppose death have strike already?
Impossible. The finger of Isis has never touched this house.
That's where you're wrong, lady. Two men have been poisoned here.
My stars never lie.
No one has died under this roof...
yet.
Friend of stars may possess unusual wisdom.
Come.
Just watch out for an arrow, Mr. Chan.
There's one marked for you.
Man cannot avoid destiny.
- Most unusual lady. - She tells fortunes for my wife. She's quite harmless.
Collection of ancient instruments of torture... innocent hobby?
Well, not exactly. Just more research.
In order to understand Cesare Borgia's mind, I created a dungeon similar to his.
Men of the Renaissance often resorted to torture in order to maintain their power as rulers.
Evil habit still linger in Europe.
Dr. Retling...
you are familiar with root of tagara weed?
Vaguely. Isn't that what Friar Lawrence gave toJuliet?
The old chemists used it for insomnia cases.
You have seen same in Mr. Manderley's laboratory?
- I'm the only one who ever uses that room. - Listen here, Mr. Manderley.
With the door wide open, anybody could use that room... even your wife!
What do you mean?
Gee, I'm sorry.
Please, excuse number two son rudeness.
That's quite all right, Mr. Chan.
Look, Pop! Fletcher's body... it's gone!
Hartford and Detheridge removed it to the chapel.
Gave no orders for same?
Mrs. Manderley sent down word to do it.
Uh, excuse.
- I must speak with Lucy. - One moment, Mr. Manderley.
I'm afraid the time has come for dropping pretenses.
- What do you mean? - Protecting your wife.
- Why? - I know what I am talking about.
You are protecting a homicidal maniac who poisoned Gleason and Fletcher.
I dare to say it because I know what the scandal will do to you when it breaks.
Have her committed now, quietly.
Mr. Chan...
I'm sure you will help us.
Have no evidence Mrs. Manderley poisoned Mr. Fletcher.
We hushed up one death for Manderley's sake. We can't do it again.
I tell you, she did kill them.
- Motive, please. - She's mad.
She wants the emotion Lucrezia Borgia knew...
when she saw her enemies die at her dinner table.
- I know what I'm talking about. - Oh, stop, Doctor. Stop!
I can't do what you ask. But I'll take her away with me... anywhere... to hush this up.
Hartford could take charge of the estate.
Send him to me. I'll give him power of attorney.
Mr. Chan, can we count on your silence?
But, Pop, it's murder!
Sometimes solution to murder problem does not require scandal.
Thank you. I'm sure it won't go unappreciated.
One moment, please.
Excuse.
- Liquid inoculated with missing nightshade. - What?
Gee, now somebody wants him out of the way.
May see ring, please?
Thief of poison insert same here while ring rest upon table.
What's this? Someone tried to poison Manderley?
Yeah. Unless he put it there himself.
For suicide, accidentally on purpose.
- Oh, nonsense. - Don't be silly. We know who it was.
She can't help herself.
Mr. Hartford.
You're quite wrong, old man. Mrs. Manderley isn't mad. But you are.
You'd better mind your own business.
Don't be childish.
Sorry. I didn't think the old thing would work.
Like poison, that won't get you very far either, Hartford.
Then you know.
Mr. Manderley sure is one scared man.
Guess I'd be too if I had a wife like that.
Glamour boy who jump to conclusions sometimes get hair mussed.
- You mean, she isn't crazy? - Killer we seek very sane.
What you gonna do, Pop?
Send messenger for help from police.
Oh, my pigeon.
Look at him!
Dead pigeon. Hope we are not same.
Nightshade gather Ming Toy to ancestors.
Killer very sane.
Also thorough.
Whoever it was probably searched this room too.
Excellent deduction for expensive college education.
That was meant for you, Pop.
Obvious not meant for pigeon.
Madame Saturnia said that an arrow would get you.
Message from stars most accurate tonight.
Invited to witness one elaborate crime, parent interrupt another.
Wh-What do you mean?
Theory here much safer than theory there. Come.
But, Pop, I wanted to tell you about that sculptor, Watson King.
- Yes? - He isn't the real thing.
He doesn't work the way they did in my art class. He's a fake.
One moment, please.
Inform editor.
Gee. Wrong again.
Go help parent by watching body of Mr. Fletcher.
Okay. What?
Body must be kept under close observation. Go.
- A-All by myself? - Yes. Hurry, please.
All right.
Mrs. Manderley does not sleep.
Breathing reveal lady imitate possum.
Please.
Younger brother, Prince Borgia, once tried for murder?
He... He was my stepbrother.
He wasn't a Borgia. He had no right to the family name.
- Where is he, please? - Dead.
He was killed in the Spanish War.
No.
He was not killed. He is among the living.
Stars say so?
- Why she hide here? - She was frightened, Mr. Chan.
She's been with me ever since she left you.
- Stepbrother's face carry bad scar. - Yes.
He had a serious accident when he was seven.
Oh, Mr. Chan. Why are they trying to make Paul think I'm mad?
- Twenty million dollars. - But I don't understand.
Pop! Pop!
Pop? Pop! Pop! Pop!
- Please. Please. Please. - Pop! Oh, Pop.
"Pop, Pop, Pop." Why does offspring imitate outboard motor?
Fletcher's body... gone! Disappeared! Somebody's taken it.
Mr. Fletcher's body like missing part of automobile... not far away.
Go back. Make intensive search.
- You talk as if it got up and walked away. - Not impossible.
Say, Pop, you haven't been drinking, have you?
Only wine of discovery. Go below.
- Keep watch. Have no fear of ghosts. - Ghosts?
- Are you soldier or mouse? - Mouse.
Go on.
Mrs. Hartford, Dr. Retling... desire presence, please.
- Where is husband? - Why, uh, I never keep track of him.
Come with me.
I'm sorry, Lucy. This is Chan's idea.
Why are you disturbing Mrs. Manderley this way?
To enlighten cruelly maligned lady.
Forged letter from you, Mrs. Manderley...
summon Chinese detective to castle.
Mrs. Hartford, your husband wrote same.
Why do you say that?
Mr. Hartford's notes on Gleason death...
written on same machine...
- as letter bearing Mrs. Manderley's signature. - Really!
But Mr. Hartford is my husband's attorney.
True. But he also desire control of vast estate...
now competently managed by Mr. Manderley.
- What do you mean? - Fake murder plot...
and fake threat of newspaper scandal...
created to terrorize millionaire husband...
into giving Mr. Hartford power of attorney.
That's ridiculous, Mr. Chan.
Humble self invited to castle to prove you insane...
but proof only point to conspirators.
Are you accusing my husband of killing Mr. Fletcher?
Mr. Fletcher not dead... nor Professor Gleason.
Both very much alive.
What did I tell you?
Gleason and Fletcher hired by doctor and lawyer to imitate death.
Each receive drink from you, Mrs. Manderley...
and insert into same drug from tagara weed...
which suspend pulse of life for short period.
The potion Juliet drank.
Why would they do such an awful thing?
To make husband think you give poison in madness.
But odor of drug on Mr. Fletcher's glass...
betray use of same to humble nose.
Nonsense. Where did he get the drug?
It's very rare.
You obtained same from dungeon laboratory.
You can't prove that, Mr. Chan.
When Professor Gleason prove alive...
can doctor explain false death certificate?
- Why, I... - Well, no one was harmed.
- What can you do about it? - Fraud is crime.
And murder punishable by execution.
Well, all right. So my husband tried something and failed.
- But no one was murdered. - Not yet.
- What do you mean? - There is person in this castle...
desire death of Mr. Manderley.
What for?
Widow would become very wealthy woman.
- Those words hold great truth, Mr. Chan. - Oh, no.
My husband couldn't profit by that.
- But you and your stepbrother could. - Cesare is dead.
Oh, no, he isn't. He wrote to Walter a month ago asking for money.
The stars never lie.
Can explain resurrection of stepbrother?
No. They told me he was dead... killed in action.
I... I believed it.
You are sure you do not know where your husband is?
Uh, no. Perhaps he left with Mr. Fletcher.
Across desert on foot?
He was frightened when poison was found in Mr. Manderley's ring.
We knew then that there was a real killer in our midst.
Return to rooms. Lock doors. No one safe now. Come.
Jimmy?
Jimmy!
It's only me, Pop.
Why does number two son inhabit hardware?
That fellow with the bow and arrow... I'm not taking any chances.
There's an outfit for you too.
What has canned outpost observed?
Nothing. But I don't mind watching now.
Must investigate servants' quarters.
Remain in can.
Pop! Help!
Help!
- You still alive? - Why, I guess so.
Just bent, bruised and bewildered, eh?
Oh, Pop! Hey, Pop!
As usual... hear earthquake...
and naturally expect to find number two son responsible.
I was watching him and Madame Saturnia when I was pushed.
- Where is lady stargazer? - Jimmy's downfall scared her away.
Who opened door to poison room?
The old lady... picked the lock like a professional. I didn't let her go in.
Mr. King, you were following her.
Part of my job.
Los Angeles Detective Agency. This'll identify me.
I knew you'd find out sooner or later.
English sculptor formerly of Scotland Yard.
- Now with the Brewster Agency. - Have met head man.
- Who engage you? - Mrs. Manderley.
- What reason? - You'll have to get that from her.
Thank you. At present, am concentrating on whereabouts of missing lawyer.
- So am I. - Say, Pop, I hope he don't show up dead.
- I'll look in the cellar. - You examine laboratory.
Mr. Hartford?
- Why you hide? - Somebody tried to kill me.
- Who? - I don't know.
Somebody shot an arrow at me out in the courtyard. Just barely missed.
- Why didn't you call for help? - Who was there to help me in this madhouse?
He doesn't think much of you, Pop.
Who else visit dungeon tonight?
Just the old lady and King, as he said.
Your wife and Dr. Retling already admit conspiracy against Mr. Manderley.
Now real killer seek your life.
If nobody knows you're down here, you're safe. Isn't he?
Only stars know answer.
I'll stay in hiding until you find out who it was.
The one who put the poison in Manderley's ring, obviously.
Will investigate upstairs. Come.
Say, Pop, I've got a theory.
Maybe Dr. Retling is double-crossing Hartford... or his wife is.
Theory like thunderstorm... very wet.
- I agree with you, Mr. Chan. - Hey, Pop, look!
An arrow from a crossbow.
Most odd that force of impact should break arrow.
It could've been shot from the great hall...
or from the door the old lady ran out of.
Most difficult angle, but possible.
Must question everyone immediately.
Come.
Mr. Manderley, please.
- May see weapon? - It was on the table.
Yes. Hartford was demonstrating its uses while I was working on that bust.
He very nearly got me.
It might've been an accident, but he knew I'd guessed what he was up to.
Most urgent killer be apprehended before death strike again.
May require assistance. Please summon Mr. Detheridge and Mrs. Manderley.
Have you a gun, Mr. Chan?
You'd better have mine.
It's gone. My pocket's been picked.
Sharp wit sometimes much better than deadly weapon.
- I'll be right back. - I'll go with you.
Say, Pop, is this...
Is this armor bulletproof?
Will soon find out.
Here. Put collegiate archery to practical use.
Secrete canned body in chapel and guard parent from rear.
I get it. When in the 16th century, do as the Romans do.
Oh, boy! Am I hot with a bow and arrow.
Jimmy, please...
Remember, you are rear guard, not Cupid.
- Mrs. Manderley will be right down. - Thank you.
Mr. Chan, how great is our danger?
Great as my determination to remove same.
Please. You recognize photograph?
Why, yes, of course. That's my wife and her stepbrother.
He was killed in the Spanish War.
Stepbrother now in this castle.
Why, that's impossible!
- I don't believe it. - This boy have peculiar scar on his cheek.
But same could be removed through plastic surgery.
What are you driving at? I'm the only one around here with a scar on his face.
Mr. Manderley, I am about to make most unusual request.
- Yes, what is it? - Please.
Desire to observe unfortunate scar you hide.
I'm sorry. I can't grant that request.
Timid man never win lottery prize.
No scar. You lie to many people.
I had to, Mr. Chan.
It's hard to explain the seclusion that my work demands.
So I invented that mask as an alibi for my being a recluse.
Elaborate excuse seldom truth.
Paul, the scarf... He's found out?
- Where is Mr. Detheridge? - I couldn't find him upstairs.
Did I hear someone paging me?
Been out for a stroll. There's a beautiful moon.
- Moon washed in blood. - How do you mean?
Blood spilled by man with heart of ancient Borgias...
ruthless, unscrupulous.
- That man kill lawyer Hartford. - A third murder?
No. First and only murder.
Well, why should anyone kill Hartford?
He was obstacle on path to same goal... your estate.
How do you mean, Mr. Chan?
Killer came to castle.
He hope by causing Mr. Manderley's death...
to gain control of vast estates through innocent stepsister...
but on arrival find his plan blocked by lawyer's plot.
Therefore he determined to kill lawyer first with arrow.
But who fired the arrow?
Arrow of death could not have been fired from crossbow...
because shaft of arrow was broken.
Mr. Hartford not shot... he was stabbed.
Private detective agree?
Whom do you accuse?
Position of arrow in body indicate murderer to be left-handed.
Mr. Chan, I'm the only left-handed person here.
- Why, Lucy... - Contradiction, please.
- King! - Stand back!
Thank you very much, Mr. King, for instinctive admission of guilt.
Three other persons in castle also left-handed.
And what do you propose to do now, Mr. Chan?
Your assistance at this time, Mr. Fletcher...
may win forgiveness of the law.
Thank you so much.
Please decorate gentleman with legal jewelry.
And now will make humble effort to solve one more mystery.
Excuse.
Hidden distributor will release guests now marooned at castle.
Please return same to automobile.
Right away, Charlie.
Down. Steady.
No bones broken.
There you are.
The stars are your friends.
Only time can depend upon rear guard is when same is fast asleep.
- Remove hardware. - I can't, Pop. It's all dented.
- I can't even move my head. - One moment. Excuse, please.
Much better?
Man who sit on tack better off.
Offspring sound like chip off old chopstick.
As I said before, the man who kills Mr. King will not be punished.
Executioner merely servant of law.
Perfect record for stargazer.
Mr. Detheridge, automobile being repaired?
- Yes. It'll be ready in 20 minutes, Charlie. - Thank you so much.
Madame, now you will be able to ride...
Number two son hot again! Water!
Water. Water.