( dramatic theme playing )
( noirish jazz theme playing )
"Steve says, 'I know my people.
"'I know the two faces of them.
"'The faces they wear for the public,
"and the secret faces they show only to each other.'
"Gilbert says, 'Perhaps. We'll see.
"When do I get the last act?'
"And Steve says, 'I'm starting it
"'as soon as you leave.
( chuckling ): "If I live to finish it.'
"Steve opens the door for them, and they exit.
"Steve grins, sits at his desk,
"switches on the Dictaphone and begins to dictate.
"Third act.
"It's a few minutes after midnight
"as the curtain rises,
"but Steve gets no further.
"There's the sound of a shot,
and Steve slumps over his typewriter, dead."
Curtain falls on the second act.
Any comments?
Not even from our producer?
Mr. Gifford?
I'll reserve my comment
until I've heard the last act.
I think you'll find it exciting.
If this is someone's idea of a joke,
I don't appreciate it. What's happened?
The last act. Someone took it out of the script
and replaced it with blank pages.
Well, perhaps when they were assembled--
I assembled them myself.
( mysterious theme playing )
( sighs )
( mysterious theme playing )
It's gone. Even from the file copy in my desk.
Saves us the trouble of listening to it.
You didn't like the first two acts, Mr. West?
No. None of it.
And you, Helen?
Well, it disturbs me, Ernest.
I feel there's something very wrong with it.
It's not fair to judge a play
by two acts, but--
Yes?
( sighs ) Well...frankly,
I didn't like what I heard.
Why not?
The characters are confused.
The...motivations are obscure.
Anything else, John?
There's no kindness, no understanding.
Nothing but a sort of...
snarling viciousness
that I find most distasteful.
If you ask me-- I have already asked you.
HELEN: John's right.
If you'd look at your characters
with love instead of hate, Ernest.
Especially the character you'll play?
I'm sure you can change it.
Why are you doing this thing?
It's not your kind of play.
( scoffs )
A Gifford production means something to the public.
There's a guarantee of a great, new play.
An exciting eve--
Stop being a press agent, Jim.
And you...the great star, Helen Dwight,
crawling down from a sky full of fine parts
to wallow in this muddy melodrama.
Why you doing it?
I always do what my producer tells me to.
Especially when he also happens to be my husband.
You're her brother. Show some gumption
for once in your life. Talk to her.
Oh, I think you're getting
all excited about nothing, Jim.
Oh, I didn't think it was that bad.
When Ernest rewrites it the way John wants--
There will not be any rewriting.
Why, Ernest? Why be so arbitrary?
You've made mistakes before.
Because I didn't know what I was writing about.
But this time I do.
I'm telling a story about real, living people.
People that I know.
For the first time as a writer,
I'm telling the truth.
Then all the more reason for rewriting.
Why condemn these unfortunate people
without a fair trial?
Why call them criminals without trying to understand
what made them commit a crime?
What good is it to hurt people?
My play is more important than the people.
Oh. This kind of argument
isn't going to get us anywhere.
I suggest we all go home and think about it.
Calmly. We can get together later on tonight.
I'll be too busy. ( sighs angrily )
With nothing more important than this.
Have you forgotten? The last act is missing.
You're gonna write it again? Well, of course.
Whoever took it wasn't very bright.
I wrote it once. I can write it again.
The revisions I want may change
your last act completely.
I told you, there will be no changes.
I won't produce it.
I think you will.
I think you'll see it my way.
I'm sure you will.
Now, here are the first two acts.
I'll have the third act for you
by the end of the week.
Good afternoon.
( opens door )
( door closes )
( doorbell rings )
It's Frank.
( snaps fingers )
( doorbell rings )
( jazzy theme playing )
ROYCE: In response to your offer--
Well, Frank. I didn't hear you come in.
I rang the bell. Nobody answered.
Oh, I guess I didn't hear it.
How did you get in?
Door was unlocked.
That's funny.
( chuckles )
I, uh-- I've been trying to catch up
on some of my unanswered mail here.
It really piles up.
Pretty busy, huh? Well, you know how it is.
Just getting ready to go into production.
It's a...
It's a real strain.
Yeah.
I stopped by to pick up Faith.
Faith? Well, she's gone. She left with Gifford.
No, I saw them leave.
She wasn't with 'em.
Well, she walked out with 'em.
You're lying, Ernie.
You shouldn't say things like that, Frank.
It might get you into trouble.
Well, I'll tell you, Ernie, I don't want any trouble.
so I'll tell you what I'm gonna do.
I'm gonna take my girl and my money out of your show.
You can't do that. It was a deal.
A bad deal.
You'll make a fortune. I got a fortune.
And I got a girl too. Now, look, Frank.
You're all wrong about the girl.
She's a nice kid.
Well, anyway, I can't return the money.
I-- It's out of my hands.
I turned it all over to John Gifford, the producer.
Get it back.
I can't. Get it back!
Well, we'll have to talk to John Gifford about it.
You do that. Now. Now?
We'll have to wait until morning.
I don't have to do anything, Ernie.
I want that money back, and I want it in cash.
Well, it's too late. The banks are closed.
It's Friday.
The banks are open until 6.
It's only 5 now.
What is all the rush? You don't need the money.
You ain't listening to me, Ernie.
I said I'm taking my money and my girl out of your show.
Well, all right. Take the girl out if you want--
They come together. They always did.
That's the way it was agreed.
But there wasn't anything in the agreement
about you and my girl...
so I'm closing out everything.
I'm coming back here later tonight
for that money, Ernie.
If you ain't got it,
you ain't gonna get another chance to get it.
( suspenseful theme playing )
( birds chirping )
( suspenseful theme playing )
( door closes )
Scared?
Go on, get out of here. And get out of here fast.
Oh, there's nothing to get excited about.
Are you crazy? You were listening.
You heard what he said.
Don't worry about him.
He'll do what I tell him.
But will you?
What do you want?
Well, I'm--
I'm such a nasty person in the play.
Rewrite my part so I'll be more sympathetic.
You see, if I did it for love--
Are you lecturing me on the drama?
Where did you learn that? At the actors' school?
You'll rewrite my part the way I want it.
If you do, I'll get Frank to change his mind.
If you don't, you and your producer
will have to get another sucker to back you.
Not at all, sweetie.
You make trouble for me,
and you'll have to get yourself another sucker to back you.
Frank loves me. He'll stick with me no matter what.
Not when I tell him all about Faith
and the rest of her kind.
He'd kill you.
Well, that could be.
But he'd probably kill you first.
( ominous theme playing )
No answer.
Well, try again.
John, darling...
this play must not be produced as it's written.
( dialing phone )
I guess he meant what he said.
If only he had a little pity.
Pity.
He doesn't answer.
( clicks on )
( romantic jazz music playing )
( knocking on door )
Hi, Frank. Hi, baby.
You look tired. I am.
I'll fix you a drink. Thanks.
This will make you feel better.
I stopped by Royce's to pick you up.
You should've called. I would've waited.
I was outside when the others came out.
You weren't with 'em.
I'd...
just left before they did.
Why?
Why, Faith?
Well...
I just don't like to be
left alone with Royce.
He giving you a hard time?
I can handle him.
Well, that's my job, isn't it?
You're wonderful, Frank.
You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?
But if you weren't so new to show business,
you'd know that he's typical of
a certain kind of wolf who...
howls at all young actresses.
We learn very quickly
how to manage his kind.
Well, I don't like it.
I'm taking you and my money out of the show.
Well, don't be silly, Frank.
Oh, we can always find you a new play.
But I want this one.
Frank, a Gifford production.
Helen Dwight starring.
A beautiful part.
It's a wonderful chance for me.
And that's what we both want, isn't it?
I want you, Faith.
But you want me to be happy too, don't you?
I got a lot to learn about happiness.
( puts drink down )
Maybe you too.
Look, baby,
I know what it is to want something so bad
you'll do anything to get it. I've done it.
The hard way.
I'm just trying to figure an easier way for you.
Where are you going?
Oh, I got some things to do.
You'll forget about Royce.
Please, Frank.
Don't worry, sugar.
( tense theme playing )
( sighs )
Third act. It's a few minutes after midnight.
As the curtain rises-- ( gunshot )
( dramatic theme playing )
"Defendant has no information nor belief
on the subject sufficient to enable him to--"
( intercom buzzes ) Yes, Gertie?
GERTIE: Mr. Frank Brooks to see Mr. Mason.
I don't recall an appointment for a Mr. Brooks.
I know, but he said--
He has $10,000 in cash
for the lawyer that handles his case.
Interesting man. Intriguing.
( buzzing ) See if you can find out--
Oh, wait a minute.
Gertie. Yes, sir?
Show Mr. Brooks in, will you, please?
Yes, sir.
Thank you, Gertie.
Mr. Brooks. Mr. Mason.
Mr. Brooks. There's the 10,000.
Chair?
Thank you.
Do you mind if we, uh...
talk alone?
Miss Street is my confidential secretary.
I have no secrets from her, nor do my clients.
Okay. Please sit down.
Thanks.
Now...
how am I supposed to earn that?
Well, making a rough guess,
I would say the cops
are gonna be looking for me, uh,
at about, um, 6:00 tonight.
Why?
To book me for the murder
of Ernest Royce, the, uh, playwright.
Why you, in particular?
Because my fingerprints are all over his place.
Why should that worry you?
Mr. Mason, I got a record.
The cops are gonna tie my prints in with that record.
Look, I was brought up in the rackets.
I know all the tricks.
If I'd wanted to kill Royce,
I wouldn't have left any fingerprints behind.
That, uh...
honest money?
Honest? I worked for every cent of that.
Doing what?
This.
The Brooks Drive-ins.
"Eat the best from East to West."
There's one on every major highway
in the United States.
Oh, you can, uh...
check that out.
I ain't ashamed of that record.
All right.
Suppose you tell me what you were doing at Royce's house.
I went there to get my money back.
What money?
The 75 grand I invested in a play of his.
It was a stinker.
Didn't you know that before you invested your money?
I never read the play. Hm.
Isn't that unusual?
I wouldn't know. I--
First time I ever got mixed up in show business.
Well, who got you into it?
Royce.
Said it was gonna be a smash hit.
A gold mine. Make nothing but money.
John Gifford was gonna produce...
Helen Dwight play the lead.
Oh, I talked it over with my tax man.
He said...
if I lose it, it's tax-deductible.
So I figured, well, what can I lose?
Yet you suddenly wanted your money back?
( closes lighter )
I don't like to be taken, Mr. Mason.
And you decided Royce was taking you?
That's right.
Did you and Royce quarrel?
No.
No, why should we?
He said he'd speak to Gifford
about getting my money back.
I had a few drinks, and then I left.
Where'd you go?
Home.
You're married? No.
Girl?
No special girl, if that's what you're thinking.
I'm only thinking what the police will think.
Now, who were you with last night?
Nobody.
No alibi.
Well, if what you told me is true...
I see no reason why you shouldn't be able
to give the same information to the police.
Well, I would like you on my side
when I start talking to them.
I'm sure the police will find lots of fingerprints
belonging to all kinds of people.
Tying yours to an old record
certainly isn't enough evidence
to support a murder charge.
Here.
You'd better keep that.
Something for your advice?
Not this time.
Thank you, Mr. Mason.
Goodbye, Mr. Brooks.
Goodbye.
Mr. Mason.
Try one of my hamburgers sometime.
They're the greatest.
( door closes )
( mysterious theme playing )
( knocking )
( romantic classical music playing on radio )
Hi, Frank. Faith.
Isn't it terrible about Royce?
It's in all the papers.
Look, they even have my name in the story.
Yeah, I know. It ain't any good.
Well, what's bad about it?
Me getting star billing with Helen Dwight.
Now, look, baby. Try to understand, will you?
The less you get mixed up in the thing,
the better off it's gonna be for both of us.
Why?
Oh, I'll write you a letter.
( sighs )
Meanwhile, I want you to get out of town.
Here.
There's some money.
Now you take it, and you go to
Europe, Africa, anyplace.
Go just as far as you can go.
With all of this publicity going for me?
You must be out of your mind.
Well, this publicity is gonna turn awfully sour
the minute the cops find out I was backing this play
just to buy you a job.
Now...look,
do us both a big favor, huh?
Disappear just as fast as you can.
Tsk.
Well, I don't see why I have to run away
just because you threatened to--
( ominous theme playing )
Well, go on, baby.
Finish what you were gonna say.
I heard you, Frank.
I heard you tell Ernie Royce you'd be back last night.
Heh.
You were there all the time.
You gonna kill me too, Frank?
Why are you looking at me like that?
Because I never really
looked at you before.
It's been nice knowing you, Faith.
What are you trying to tell me?
I already told you.
Now, you've got the money.
Take it and get out of town fast.
If there's any wrap-up-- ( knocking )
Who is it?
TRAGG: The police.
May we come in?
I could say no, maybe, huh?
You're Miss, uh, Faith Foster?
Uh, you're Mr. Frank Brooks?
Yeah. That's right.
Heh. You know, it, heh--
It's always easier for me if somebody says, uh...
"What do you want?"
Well, ten to one, it ain't a hamburger.
What do you want? Thank you, miss.
You, uh...
got a warrant?
Of course.
Miss Foster.
I'm sorry to bother you this way.
You're it.
( dramatic theme playing )
( indistinct chatter )
Mr. Mason? Yes?
I'm Jim West, Mr. Gifford's publicist.
He's on the set, but he'll be through in a moment.
Like to watch?
I'd like to go someplace a little more private.
Well, we could use one of the dressing rooms.
Oh, here he is. Mr. Gifford, Mr. Mason.
How do you do? How do you do?
Perhaps we should have arranged this meeting
at a less busy time.
Well, there's no less busy time.
It's always like this. Between doing two pictures here,
and at least one play in New York every year,
I find that time is the scarcest thing in my life.
I know. I suffer the same deficiency. ( chuckles )
Well, shall we get to the business at hand?
Uh, yes. Uh, whatever it is.
Uh, this dressing room isn't being used.
Okay.
I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Mason.
And I about you, Mr. Gifford. Ha.
It's mostly due to Mr. West.
He's my publicity man.
Uh, Mr. Mason. Thank you.
What did you want to talk to me about?
Well, several things.
How well do you know Frank Brooks?
Well, I met him only once.
It was when he was brought here by Ernest Royce
to sign contracts and give me a check.
You know nothing about his background?
Well, his check was good.
I must admit, that's all I was interested in.
Were...
Brooks and Royce very friendly?
I really don't know.
Now, you have produced more than one play by Royce?
Yes.
Four. All flops.
Mm, artistic flops? ( scoffs )
Royce never wrote a decent play.
Yet you were about to
produce another of his plays?
It had great promise.
( scoffs quietly )
You agree with that, Mr. West?
Mr. Gifford's the producer. I just blow the horn.
MASON: I see.
Like to have a copy of the Royce play.
It's unfinished. It's not going to be produced.
Nevertheless, I'd like to read it.
( scoffs )
Well, I see no point.
I'll get a copy from the police.
Uh...
Mr. West will get you a copy from the office
on the way out.
You asked for it, Mr. Mason.
Don't blame me when you're finished.
Why didn't you like Royce, Mr. West?
The theater is something
very special to me, Mr. Mason.
It's been my family, my home...
everything I've ever wanted.
When I'm inside a theater, I'm in a church.
When I see a great play...
I hear angels singing.
When I see great performances,
I'm walking the streets of heaven.
Those streets are very clean
and beautiful, Mr. Mason.
They should be kept that way.
And I repeat...
why didn't you like Ernest Royce?
( scoffs )
He was a litterbug.
Thank you, gentlemen.
Goodbye. Goodbye.
( sighs )
( mysterious theme playing )
All right, quiet, please.
This will be a take.
Roll 'em.
Speed.
DIRECTOR: All right...
action.
Hello, Michael.
John.
Hello, darling. Darling, how are you?
Let me take your coat, hm?
Mm-hm.
More police today?
A lawyer. Perry Mason.
Representing Brooks?
You shouldn't have seen him.
Michael, please. Just relax.
Helen shouldn't be bothered with all this nonsense.
You know she-- Uh, no talk.
( quietly ): Sit down.
( tender theme playing )
Helen Dwight...
the great star.
John Gifford, the great producer. ( chuckles )
She brings me my slippers.
Well, she's his loving wife.
Ah.
Where's the glamour of it?
For us?
In the beginning,
the dream was always work.
But there was no play...
and then there was a play.
Then there were only the words of the play,
and the fear of the words.
Then there was you.
You made the words come alive.
There was no glamour ever.
There was only work.
The love of work.
Love of you.
You and me.
This is our world.
Heh.
There's no other population.
Is this wrong?
Well, we'll know when the curtain falls
on the last act.
Hm.
( dramatic theme playing )
MASON: Della?
Yes, Perry.
Get Michael Dwight on the phone for me, will you?
Uh, I don't have his number.
Well, try Gifford's office at the studio.
Do you realize it's after 9:00?
The studio operator will get a message
through to him.
( sighs )
Alrighty.
Happy reading?
Hardly.
Mr. Royce is not my kind of writer.
Did you read the book too? Mm-hm.
Unpleasant. ( chuckles )
And that's an understatement.
Why would a publisher want to print a collection
of unsuccessful plays?
Della, there are certain printers who will
publish anything if you pay
the cost of the printing.
Seems to me that--
Hello?
Uh, could you get a message
to Mr. Michael Dwight for me, please?
He's Mr. Gifford's business manager.
Yes, it's urgent.
Would you have him call Mr. Perry Mason please?
( jazz music playing over speakers )
Thank you.
Now, how long have you been
Miss Dwight's business manager?
Ever since I got out of college.
You've never worked for anyone else?
I'm also Mr. Gifford's personal business manager.
Oh? For how long?
Same length of time as my sister.
Then you'd be familiar
with all their contractual obligations?
Yes.
Now, as I understand it, a run-of-the-play contract
is one in which a performer is bound
to remain with the play until it closes.
That's right.
I ask, because Helen Dwight
had such a contract.
( exhales forcefully )
You really find things out, don't you?
Hm. So do the police.
Now, isn't it, uh...
unusual for a star like Miss Dwight
to have signed such a contract
without first having read the play?
When it comes to plays...
she does what John Gifford advises.
But none of you-- not even John Gifford
--knew a thing about the play until the day of the murder.
Yet the contracts were signed several days before.
Why?
I was not consulted.
Well, as their business manager,
didn't you draw the contracts?
I did as I was told.
You also drew Miss Foster's contract?
Yes.
Why would Mr. Gifford give a contract to an unknown?
A run-of-the-play contract?
( sighs )
He must have had great belief in her.
Didn't Royce introduce her to Mr. Gifford?
( exhales forcefully )
Look, Mr. Mason...
Royce is dead.
As far as I'm concerned, the play died with him.
Both corpses have been buried,
and that's the way they're gonna stay.
Personally, I'd say whoever killed Royce
did the world a great favor.
Excuse me. Uh, Perry, I'd like to talk to you.
When you're through, I'll be in the lobby.
That's all right. Mr. Mason and I are finished.
I was just about to leave.
Oh, have your drink, Mr. Dwight.
Thank you for coming down.
What did you find out about Frank Brooks?
He lied to you about Faith Foster.
He was trying to keep her out of the case.
Very nice. How do you know he hasn't lied to you
about a lot of other things too?
I don't. What are you leading up to?
You remember a hood named Rick Volponi?
Mm-hm.
In New York.
Big man in the numbers racket, wasn't he?
Mm-hm. About the same time Frank Brooks admits
he was a small operator in the same neighborhood.
Go on. Volponi was shot.
The New York police took it for the usual gang-war rubout.
But they never even got a clue to the killer.
So they haven't closed the files on the case.
That happened about 10 years ago, didn't it?
Twelve. When Tragg got in touch
with the New York police about Brooks' record,
they asked for everything he had on the Royce case,
including a plastic mold of the bullet
taken out of Royce's head.
And they found...?
The bullet that killed Royce
came from the same gun that killed Volponi
12 years ago.
Well, it's a long arm of coincidence
that reaches all the way from Los Angeles to New York,
and takes 12 years to do it.
Nevertheless, Perry, he didn't
tell you everything before.
He may be concealing 100 other things.
That may be so, Della...
but I'm almost sure he didn't kill Royce.
Why?
Royce was killed by one of the real-life characters
he was writing about in his play.
Brooks didn't resemble one of those characters.
Unless he was in the last act.
The lost last act.
Let's go.
( dramatic theme playing )
( menacing theme playing )
ROYCE ( on tape ): What are you in such a rush for?
You don't need the money.
BROOKS: You ain't listening to me, Ernie.
I said I'm taking my money
and my girl out of your show.
ROYCE: All right, you can take the girl--
BROOKS: They come together. They always did.
That's the way it was agreed.
But there wasn't anything in the agreement
about you and my girl...
so I'm closing out everything.
( clattering )
I'm gonna come back here later tonight
for that money, Ernie. Now, you better have it,
'cause I won't give you another chance to get it.
Now, with regard to the voices on that recording,
which is entered in evidence as People's Exhibit A,
I ask you, Mr. Dwight,
have you ever spoken to the decedent, Ernest Royce?
Many times.
Was his voice one of the two voices
on that recording you just heard?
Yes. One was the voice of Ernest Royce.
Now, about the defendant.
How many times have you talked to him?
Mm...perhaps 15 or 20 times.
Often on the phone.
Can you identify one of the voices
on that recording as the defendant's voice?
Yes, definitely.
One was Royce and the other was Brooks.
Thank you, Mr. Dwight. No further questions.
Your witness, Mr. Mason.
No questions.
I call James West to the stand, please.
BURGER: Now, Mr. West,
are you aware of any relationship
between the defendant and Miss Foster?
Only that he was willing
to invest a large amount
of money in furthering her career as an actress.
Are you aware of any relationship
between the decedent, Ernest Royce, and Miss Foster?
Nothing I could swear to.
Well, you made a statement to the police
in which you said that you saw Mr. Royce and Miss Foster
embracing each other. I did.
Was Miss Foster aware that you were seeing them like this?
She was.
And she made no attempt to hide the relationship?
Well, she asked me not to mention it
to the defendant, Frank Brooks.
Oh.
Your Honor, I object to this testimony
as being completely incompetent.
The district attorney knows very well
that a man on trial for his life
cannot be bound by statements made by others
at times when he's not present,
or where the statements are not under oath.
If it please the court, I agree with defense counsel,
and I regret the witness' answer to my last question.
Objection sustained.
The witness' answer to the last question
will be stricken from the record.
Proceed, Mr. Burger.
I have no further questions of this witness, Your Honor.
You may cross-examine, Mr. Mason.
Now, Mr. West, before becoming a publicist,
you were a newspaper reporter?
That's right. You had your own byline?
I got it when I was 23.
I show you now certain Photostats
of newspaper articles purportedly written by you.
( chuckles )
Yeah, I wrote 'em.
It was a long time ago.
Twelve years.
Your Honor, I offer these Photostats
for identification, to be marked Defense Exhibit A.
So ordered.
Now, Mr. West... ( sighs )
...you covered a great many things
in your columns at that time.
Theater.
Murder.
I note you were very interested
in the Volponi case. Uh.
That's right.
It was a real mystery.
According to another column
of almost that same date...
Mr. Gifford announced his first Broadway production.
That's right.
Didn't you meet Helen Dwight at about that time?
Well, I didn't exactly meet her.
Please explain.
I saw her on-stage in her first play.
That was also Mr. Gifford's first production.
That's right.
You praised them both very highly.
Hm.
Hard to find new words to say how great she was.
You even announced in your column
that you were in love with her.
I still am.
Even her husband knows that.
I quote from the Royce play,
act two, page 38,
"Steve laughing...
'Old murders make fascinating plays.'"
Now, Mr. West...
was the Royce play based on the Volponi murder?
I object, Your Honor.
That question calls for a conclusion of the witness.
If it please the court...
Mr. West, as a newspaperman, covered the Volponi case.
Within proper definitions,
his conclusion...
could be considered that of an expert.
If it please the court...
in any event, the question is incompetent,
and immaterial and irrelevant.
The content of the play
has nothing to do with our murder case.
Has Mr. Burger read the play?
Yes, Mr. Burger has.
And if he may quote Shakespeare,
It is a "tale told by an idiot,
full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
Shakespeare also said...
"Nature's above art in that respect."
Your Honor... I do not dispute
Mr. Burger�s literary objections to the play.
I do, however, question his legal objections.
Mr. Royce was killed in exactly the manner
he described in his own play.
Your Honor...
is Mr. Mason suggesting
that the deceased planned his own murder?
A good playwright knows his characters.
Once having created them,
he doesn't force them into situations
contrary to their natural destiny.
Again, let me quote from the Royce play.
"I know my people.
"I know the two faces of them.
"The faces they wear for the public,
"and the secret faces they show only to each other.
They'll play as I've written them."
Now, I submit that this play--
the Royce play
--is based on the Volponi murder.
If it please the court,
I'd like to apologize to the court and to counsel.
I didn't realize what counsel
was trying to bring before the court.
Not only will I make no objection,
I will stipulate that all facts
concerning the murder of Rick Volponi can be considered
in connection with the case presently at bar.
I'm most willing for counsel to proceed.
With the understanding, of course,
that...counsel having opened the door, we can all walk in.
( clears throat )
Is, uh, counsel for the defense
willing to proceed
under these conditions?
Yes, Your Honor. Quite willing.
Thank you, Mr. Burger.
You're welcome, Mr. Mason.
Please proceed, Mr. Mason.
Your Honor.
I'll ask the question once again, Mr. West.
Is the Royce play based on the Volponi murder?
I can't say.
You refuse to say?
No, I don't know.
The answer would've been in the third act,
which was stolen.
No further questions.
JUDGE: Witness may stand down.
I call Mr. John Gifford to the stand, please.
Now, Mr. Gifford, would you please recite for this court
your conversation with Mr. Brooks on this occasion?
He insisted that Miss Foster
have the best of everything.
No money spared.
And what did you say?
I told him that in my companies,
I made the decisions.
If he didn't like it, he could have his money back.
BURGER: I see.
He's lying.
We didn't have any argument.
There wasn't anything said about any money back.
All right.
BURGER: What was your reaction to this meeting?
Well, naturally, I was somewhat disturbed.
Obviously, uh, Mr. Brooks
was a very determined man.
I think that will be all, Mr. Gifford. Thank you.
Mr. Mason, cross-examine.
Mr. Gifford...
you stated on direct examination
that you've been a producer for nearly 15 years.
Yes.
Were you an immediate success?
Ha-ha. Hardly.
I missed many meals in those early days.
It was a long, hard struggle.
Your first production caused
considerable comment, did it not?
Yeah. It was fortunately a success,
if that's what you mean.
Well, the columnists had quite a bit to say about it
even before you opened it.
Yeah, I really don't remember too much about it.
Perhaps we can jog your memory
by showing you this newspaper account,
which has heretofore been marked
Defendant's Exhibit A for identification.
Now, would you please read that section
that has been circled in red ink?
"John Gifford announces, as his first production,
"the first play by Ernest Royce,
"starring Helen Dwight,
"who will make her first appearance on a Broadway stage.
"An interesting trio of firsts,
all new to the New York theatrical world."
Thank you.
Your Honor, I ask that this Photostat
be introduced in evidence.
Very well, Mr. Mason.
Thank you.
Now, Mr. Gifford...
the item you just read...
was it true?
It is.
As of the date it was printed.
Why was it not true at a later date?
Well, I changed my plans.
Your first production was by another author?
Yes.
But at the time this was written...
you were just getting started.
Yet you were able to obtain financing for a first play
starring an unknown actress.
Yes.
From whom did you get this money?
I, uh...
I don't remember.
Wasn't this money offered to you
by Ernest Royce, the playwright,
with the single proviso that you star
an unknown young woman?
And wasn't the sponsor of this young woman
a notorious gangster?
( bangs table )
Your Honor, I object to defense counsel's
deliberate disregard for the rules of procedure.
He knows perfectly well that no proper foundation
has been laid for this kind of cross-examination.
And not only is it improper cross-examination...
it assumes facts not in evidence,
and it calls for matters
that have no possible connection with this case.
I respectfully remind the court that the decedent,
Ernest Royce, was writing a play when he was killed...
and that this play has been admitted in evidence.
Mr. Burger must recognize the startling similarity
between Mr. Gifford's circumstance 12 years ago
and the first act of this play.
Your Honor, this is pure conjecture.
It belongs on a stage,
not in a court of law.
May I read to the court these lines
written by the decedent?
"Barbara: 'Why must you open this old,
"forgotten grave again?'
"Steve, laughing:
"'Old murders make fascinating plays.'
"Gilman: 'They can also
motivate new murders.'"
Now, what was in this old, forgotten grave
that caused the decedent
to kill his own character in the play,
and then be killed himself?
I respectfully submit that Mr. Gifford's answers
may clarify these questions.
Objection overruled.
You may proceed, Mr. Mason.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Now, Mr. Gifford...
was Helen Dwight's sponsor
a notorious gangster?
I don't remember.
Well, does the name Rick Volponi
suggest anything to you?
Didn't Mr. Royce introduce him to you?
No.
I must remind you you're under oath.
( sighs ) I don't remember.
Do you remember how many times you saw Mr. Royce
on the day he was murdered?
Uh...
Well, there was the reading late in the afternoon.
Weren't you also there in the morning?
In the morning? Uh...
yes, yes. We went there in the morning.
We? Who went with you?
Uh, Mr. Michael Dwight.
Mr. Dwight is your business manager, is he not?
Yes.
He is also your brother-in-law?
Yes.
Was he with you all the time you were transacting
whatever business you had with the decedent?
Um...no.
Uh, no.
He went into the study to make a telephone call.
Why did you give Mr. Royce your check for $75,000
the morning after Mr. Brooks gave you his check
for the exact same amount?
Check?
Your check, for that amount,
made out to the order of Ernest Royce,
was deposited by him to his account at that time.
Uh...
It-- It was an advance.
An advance on his royalties.
A $75,000 advance?
Well, it's my money. I can do what I want with it.
Nobody tells me what to do.
Not Jim West, nor Helen Dwight, nor anyone else.
It's my show, and I run it my way!
Mr. Gifford...
are you asking this court to believe
that you made a $75,000 advance
on a play you hadn't even read?
I have every right to do as I please with my money.
Do you have every right to allow yourself
to be blackmailed to hide a murder?
For I submit that every Royce play you produced
was a form of blackmail.
Royce brought you a backer.
The backer gave you money.
You then turned that money over to Royce...
using your own money to produce the play.
You did this because 12 years ago,
Rick Volponi had found out
that you and his girl,
Helen Dwight, had fallen in love.
He threatened her, so you killed him.
And Royce knew you killed him.
Where did you get that?
He knew your two faces.
For years, you paid him a fortune
not to make your secret face public.
And when finally he demanded not only money...
but the sadistic pleasure
of re-creating the events
surrounding the Volponi murder...
Royce was killed.
Now, Mr. Gifford...
where is the gun that killed Rick Volponi?
No, no.
Michael, he mustn't.
This is... my gun...
registered in my name.
I killed Rick Volponi.
Ernest Royce said he would
dispose of it for me,
but he didn't.
He held it to my head
for 12 years.
Forced me to give him money...
produce his plays.
Time and again,
he tortured me with this gun...
put it in my hand...
defied me to use it.
But he knew I couldn't kill.
That night, I came back to plead with him about the play.
He taunted me again.
And this time,
the gun spoke out for me.
Better give it to me, Mr. Gifford.
This gun has a...
limited vocabulary.
It speaks one short word.
And everything that is, is suddenly revised.
What is becomes what was...
and what might have been...
can never be.
Please, Mr. Gifford, the gun.
It has one more word
to speak.
It would be the wrong word, Mr. Gifford.
A tragic ending to a play based on
an old and...
sad mistake.
You know as well as I,
it was not you who killed Royce.
And I can tell you now...
it was not Helen Dwight who killed Volponi.
You! You killed Volponi, and you killed Royce.
And you made John and Helen
suffer all these years.
Why you-- Yes!
I killed Volponi.
Stop it. Because he...
Because he hurt Helen.
And I killed Royce...
because he'd never let her forget it.
( melancholy theme playing )
And all those years, I--
I thought you killed him.
I tried to tell you, John.
I tried to tell you, but I couldn't.
Thank you, Mr. Mason.
You saved me from becoming
a cheap and melodramatic anticlimax.
( dramatic theme playing )
( mysterious theme playing )
Michael killed Royce with Gifford's gun, didn't he?
Mm-hm.
He got it from Royce's desk
when he stole the last act.
Well, then how did Gifford get it back?
Same way he got it 12 years ago.
From Helen?
She knew immediately that Michael killed Royce.
Just as Gifford immediately believed
that Helen had done it.
Helen took the gun from Michael.
Gifford took the gun from her.
It was the same triple play all over again.
Only this time, it was Royce who was snuffed out.
One question, counselor.
When did you land on Michael?
When Gifford, without realizing it,
pointed to him as the person who'd stolen the last act.
You mean, when he was supposed to be
making the telephone call?
Mm-hm. Well...
What a nice surprise.
Well, I was invited too.
Where? I forgot to tell you.
We were all invited to dine with Brooks
at his Wilshire drive-in.
You know, the place that serves
the flaming hamburgers.
On a sword. Naturally.
Perry, if you want to make my evening complete,
just tell me where you found it.
Found what? The lost last act.
Oh, just a minute.
Here.
Like to read it?
They're all blank.
Della. Hm?
You were kidding
about flaming hamburgers on a sword?
No, I wasn't.
Perry...
you take the hamburger.
I'll eat the sword.
( all laughing )
( noirish jazz theme playing )