The black widow, deadliest of all spiders...
earned its dark title through its
deplorable practice of devouring its mate.
- I hope you find your mother better, honey.
- Thank you, darling.
- Take good care of yourself.
- I'll be all right.
And you stay just as long as you think
she needs you, understand?
I will.
- Oh, did you get another bottle of vitamins?
- Yeah, I got 'em.
And don't forget
about Lottie's party.
Oh, I'm not going
to that shambles.
Now, Peter,
just a minute.
I'd just as soon go to a party
in an insane asylum.
But that's not
the point, darling.
She's the star of your show.
You simply can't treat her like that.
All right, then let her
give better parties.
What do you want to do,
hurt her feelings all over again?
- Don't you think you better get on that plane?
- Never mind the plane.
I want you to promise me you'll at least
make an appearance at that party.
With Brian and Lottie living
practically on top of us...
why, I don't want to get into a feud
with her again.
- But those people she invites.
- Just for a few minutes anyway.
Okay, okay. I'll drop in for
a minute or two anyway.
That's all that I ask. Just long enough
for her to see that you're there.
If she'll look fast enough.
I'll call you by 12:00.
Never fear.
I'll be home long before that.
And so I went to Lottie's party.
Oh, no, you don't.
You're not going to leave me
in there all by myself.
Where on earth did you and Lottie
meet all these people?
Who's met 'em?
Bring Mr. Denver a drink, will you?
- Yes, sir.
- Yours is the first face I've recognized here tonight.
- Well, where's Lottie?
- Oh, she's around someplace...
worming her way into someone's heart,
as usual, I should imagine.
Hello.
Oh, darling!
I'm so glad you could come.
There's something
I've been wanting to tell you for ages.
Your husband is, without a doubt...
the worst dramatic critic in New York.
For one thing-
Oh, thank you.
What did Iris do,
break her own leg?
No, I just put her on a plane.
Her mother's sick again.
Would you like to go
out on the terrace?
Good heavens. You're not thinking
of jumping, are you?
But you don't mind
my being this frank, do you?
I couldn't be more
interested, Miss Marin.
Except my husband isn't a critic.
How sweet of you to agree with me.
No, I mean I'm afraid you've got me
mixed up with somebody else.
My husband is Franklin Walsh,
the banker.
Banker? Well, then what are you doing
in that hideous hat?
Would you mind saying
just a word or two to me?
On what subject?
I don't think it really matters.
It's just that my mother
always told me...
that if a girl could be
at a party for 30 minutes...
without getting a man
to talk to her...
she might just as well
go on home and shoot herself.
I've already been here 25.
Well, in that case,
I'll be very happy to save your life.
- You a friend of Lottie's?
- No, I don't even know her.
That's a funny thing
about New York.
Sometimes you meet the hostess
at a party like this...
and sometimes you don't.
I came to this one with another girl,
but she's disappeared.
And everybody else here
is so important.
- Are you?
- Not very.
May I ask your name?
- Peter Denver. What's yours?
- Oh, dear.
- What?
- You're important too.
- What's your name?
- Nancy Ordway.
- Actress?
- No, I'm a writer.
At least I'm trying to be.
I haven't had anything published yet,
but I'm still at it.
How old are you?
Nineteen.
No, that's not true.
I'm 20.
I just hate to admit it.
'Cause in your 20s you ought to have
accomplished something.
I know.
Mozart had written an opera
by the time he was 12.
You know what I mean.
You ought to have shown
some talent of some kind.
- Don't you think?
- And you haven't?
Well, not yet apparently.
My last story-
Well, the editor said it was all right
to write like Somerset Maugham...
and it was all right
to write like Truman Capote...
but not at the same time.
Why don't you do like everybody else
and write like Hemingway?
I tried.
- Wouldn't you like a drink?
- No, I don't drink, thank you.
I used to, but I broke myself.
- But if it wouldn't be troubling
you too much- - What would you like?
I'm terribly hungry.
Do you think there's anything here to eat?
Well, I think I saw a tray of rather
revolting little lumps on toothpicks here.
Yes. Just a minute.
- Good night, Miss Marin.
- Oh, and do give my love to dear Benjamin.
- Franklin.
- Benjamin Franklin?
That's not possible.
What are you doing after this?
Just go on home, I suppose.
Well, could I persuade you
to have dinner with me first?
What about your wife?
- She's out of town for a while.
- Oh.
And you don't have
to read the line like that.
The invitation is for dinner only.
I'm sorry. You're very much
in love with her, aren't you?
- Very much.
- I know.
How do you know?
How could I not know?
It's a famous marriage.
Famous Broadway producer,
a famous actress.
Even in Savannah
people know that.
So all right then.
What do you say?
I'd like very much
to have dinner with you.
Okay, then let's go.
- Darling, how wonderful to see you
without your wife. - Yes. We've been-
Oh, Peter, you poor thing.
I've neglected you shamefully.
Who is this?
- One of your guests, darling. Miss Nancy-
- Ordway.
Your hostess,
Miss Carlotta Marin.
- How do you do, Miss Marin?
- Oh, I'm terribly sorry, pet...
but there are always so many people
at my parties that I didn't invite...
that I rarely get a chance
to speak to my guests.
I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid
I'm one of the ones you didn't invite.
Oh, really? Then let us say
there are always so many guests...
that I rarely get a chance
to speak to those I didn't invite.
- Where are you taking her?
- Out to dinner.
After which we're going
to say good night to each other.
And at 12:00 when Iris calls...
I'm gonna tell her all about it myself...
thus saving you the trouble, sweetie.
Good night.
Come on, Miss, uh-
Ordway.
Good night, Miss Marin.
And I never said
a mumbling word.
Yeah, I went. That's the trouble living in
the same building with Lottie.
You can't very well
get out of her parties.
- How long did you stay?
- Not long.
I took a kid I met there
out to dinner.
She's about 20, I guess...
so if you hear I'm running around with
moppets while you're away, that's right.
Did she get the job?
No, that's the funny part about it.
She's not an actress.
She's a writer.
Matter of fact, she didn't seem
that much interested in the theater.
- You want to bet?
- No, I guess not.
Just wait until
the next time you see her.
You'll find out how uninterested
in the theater she is.
Except there ain't gonna be no next time.
This baby eats too much.
Do you know what that kid
got away with for dinner?
A whole mess
of marinated herring...
two big bowls of pea soup...
steak about the size
of a doormat...
four vegetables
and some tomatoes...
a bucket of salad...
some cheese
and a chocolate nut sundae.
No coffee.
Lottie's party
and my meeting with Nancy Ordway...
was on the sixth ofJune.
Let us now go back
exactly three months...
to the sixth of March...
which, as we learned later, was when
Miss Ordway arrived in New York.
Yes?
Don't you really
recognize me?
Well, Nanny.
Good heavens. Come in.
Here, let me.
No wonder.
You've grown so.
Even if I had been expecting you...
I wouldn't have looked
for a beautiful young woman.
- Well, how old are you now anyway?
- I'll be 20 next month.
You were still in pigtails
the last time I saw you.
That was six or seven years ago.
Yes, I suppose so.
Well, come on.
- Take off your hat. Make yourself comfortable.
- Thanks.
But don't worry.
I haven't come to put up on you.
This is just to say hello and leave
my stuff here, if you don't mind...
while I look for a place of my own.
- I'm gonna live in New York now.
- Tired of Savannah?
Well, after Mama died, there was
nothing else to keep me there.
- I want to write, you know.
- Oh, really?
- This is Greenwich Village, isn't it?
- Good heavens.
Do kids still come
to Greenwich Village to write?
Well, isn't it cheap here?
Well, in comparison to some of the more
fashionable parts of town...
it is, of course.
Are you acting now?
Oh, yes.
I'm in a hit too.
Uh-uh.
What's the name of it?
Star Rising.
Drama of sorts.
- Can I get you a drink or something?
- Oh, no, thanks.
But I'm hungry enough
to eat a bear.
Oh, well, I guess
we can do something about that.
Within a week ofher arrival...
she was already
on her way uptown.
- Hello. Thought you'd given us up.
- Oh, I've been busy.
Well, it's about time.
I've been getting ready
to send out an expedition for you.
I've been working.
This is my brotherJohn.
- This is Sylvia.
- Welcome to the joint, John.
- You an artist too?
- No, I'm still going to law school.
- I'm just here for a few days.
- Hey, Nanny.
Nanny, take care of Mr. And Miss Amberly.
They're old friends of mine.
Let me know if she spills anything
on you, huh?
She's crazy. I spilled one drink
the first day I worked here.
To hear her tell it, you'd think I was
spilling things on people all the time.
- What are you, brother and sister?
- Uh-huh.
- Well, what are you gonna have?
- Well, for heaven's sakes.
I'm certainly glad to see somebody else
besides myself reads Conrad.
- You, uh-You like Conrad?
- I love him.
A lot of people may think
he's slow and deliberate...
after the way writers
move along these days...
but I like that.
I like to get right in there
with those people...
and find out what they're
thinking and feeling.
- What did you say you wanted?
- I want a Bloody Mary.
Well, what on earth is that?
Vodka and tomato juice.
Haven't you ever heard of it?
No, and I hope
I never do again.
What's yours?
Same thing?
No, I'll just have a beer.
- Did you ever hear of a Bloody Mary?
- Certainly.
It's slop, but if that's
what she wants, get it for her.
Well, it's her funeral.
- Where did you get her?
- Oh, friend of mine-
a fella I used to work with
in a stock company-
brought her out here
a couple weeks ago...
and asked if I could
give her a job.
She's his niece. What did she do,
give you some kind of an argument?
Not at all.
Just kind of natural and friendly.
She's cute too.
Her next stop, two weeks later...
was 24th Street...
at the kind invitation
of a new friend.
- Nanny.
- Yes?
It's John.
He's flying down this afternoon
and wants to take us to dinner.
What about you?
Lt'll be all right, I suppose.
I was going to work, but-
- Tell him I'd love to.
- She says fine.
You sure you really
want me along?
All right, all right.
Come on down
whenever you get in.
- Does this bother you too?
- What?
- John and me.
- Why should it?
I'm sure you never figured
on anything like that...
when you invited me
to live here with you.
Could have happened anyway,
couldn't it?
I suppose so, but-
Do you think
he's really serious?
I think so.
Why? Aren't you?
I don't know.
I mean, I don't know
whether I should be or not.
- What do you mean?
- Oh, you know.
Your family, Boston-
all that.
I can just imagine
what they think of me.
What's that got to do with it?
For one thing, they're not as stuffy
as all that.
For another, the only important thing
in a case like this...
is do you love him
and does he love you?
Well, I'll tell you anyway.
I'm crazy about him.
I think he's the kindest, gentlest...
most understanding person
I've ever known in my whole life.
By early May, about a month
before Lottie's cocktail party...
she had reached 45th Street and the
theater where Lottie was starring...
in my production of Star Rising.
Excuse me. Which way
to the stage entrance?
First alley around the corner.
- I'd like to see Mr. Ling, please.
- Mr. Ling is gone already.
Oh, dear.
Did he say where he was going?
- May I ask your name?
- I'm his niece, Miss Ordway.
Was he expecting you?
No, I just took a chance I could have
dinner with him. Do you know where he eats?
- Good evening, Mr. Denver.
- Hiya, Fritz. How are all your ails?
Oh, just about the same,
thank you, sir.
- Maybe my hips-
- Miss Marin still here?
- Yes, sir.
- Ah. Just the fellow I was looking for.
What about you and Iris
for dinner with me?
Can't tonight. We're booked.
What's with Lottie?
She's eating with Alec Waterhouse.
She's going to try and steal that play
from your wife.
- She can have it. Iris doesn't want it.
- Isn't it any good?
The play's all right,
but he wants to do it in London.
- Iris doesn't want to go to London.
- Don't tell Lottie that.
She's all set to hijack
the poor bloke.
It might break her poor little heart
that she got it on the level.
I won't say a word.
Sorry about dinner, Brian.
Oh, that's all right.
I'll find somebody.
Do you know where
he usually eats on matinee days?
No, I don't,
but maybe Mr. Mullen does.
- Where who eats?
- Mr. Ling. This is his niece.
He got out so quick
she missed him.
I'm sorry,
I don't know.
Oh, well.
It's not too important.
- Thank you both very much.
- I'll tell him you were here.
Thanks.
I didn't know
Ling had any family.
I didn't either.
Hold it a moment.
What did he do, stand you up?
Oh, no.
I just took a chance.
- He didn't know I was coming.
- I'm sure he didn't.
He's far too gallant to stand anyone up,
even a relative.
- You know him?
- Very well. I'm, uh-
Well, to be perfectly honest with you,
I'm Miss Carlotta Marin's husband.
- Really?
- I have a name of my own, of course...
but it seems stupid
to use it when I can get...
so much more attention
simply telling whose husband I am.
- I know it.
- You do?
- Brian Mullen.
- How did you know it?
From the newspapers
when you got married.
Well, I've never heard
of such erudition.
- Does it really bother you that much?
- What?
- Being married to a famous star.
- Oh, not in the least. I love it.
You've no idea how many
parties I get to now.
- But why do you say that?
- I think it must bother you.
You mention it so quickly
and make such a joke of it.
- What are you, a psychiatrist?
- No, I'm a writer.
Then how do you know
whether it bothers me or not?
Well, I don't actually.
I'm just guessing. Anyway, it shouldn't.
My guess is you do all right
for yourself anyway, with or without her.
You mean you think
I have an identity of my own?
Well, I don't know, of course...
but that's quite a line
you've got there.
Is your name Ling too?
No, I'm Nancy Ordway.
My mother was Gordon Ling's sister.
- Do you drink?
- No.
But I'm hungry enough
to eat a bear.
We'll split one.
With that background to the tragedy...
let me now pick up the story
of my friendship with Nancy Ordway...
ten days after our meeting
at Lottie's party.
Were you drunk
when you did these?
A little.
They're very good.
Yes?
There's a Miss Ordway
who wishes to speak to you on two.
- What's her name?
- Ordway. Miss Nancy Ordway.
Oh, yes. Yes, sure.
Nancy? Uh, hold it just a second,
will you, honey?
- Uh, when can I, uh, get the others?
- Monday.
Yes. Monday'll be fine.
Oh, but mind, don't go
on the wagon on me.
Oh, no. No.
- I'm sorry, honey.
- Am I interrupting something?
No, not a thing.
How have you been?
I just called to tell you
the good news.
I sold my first story today.
That's wonderful, Nancy.
How did it come out,
Somerset Maugham or Truman Capote?
Mmm. I decided not to take
any chances.
I made it pure Damon Runyon
from start to finish.
Well, you couldn't have done better, kid.
He's money in the bank.
Did you get my little sketch?
Oh, yes.
Yes, I certainly did.
It's, uh...
right here on my desk now.
It's, uh-
Yes, it's very cute.
I was hoping you might find a chance
to call me sometime.
Well, I intended to, Nancy,
but I've just been so busy lately...
I simply haven't had the time.
- Did Mrs. Denver get back?
- No, they operated on her mother yesterday...
so now I don't know
when she'll be back.
The secret of love...
is greater than
the secret of death.
That's the way
I'd really like to write.
That sort of mood.
You're not afraid
you'll be charged with frivolity?
I'll never be able
to do it, I suppose.
But that's it.
That's the goal
to try for-
death and grandeur.
Well, you're right, of course.
Always shoot for the moon.
In a place like this...
with such music
and such a view...
space, beauty...
comfort like this...
I might come close to it.
I don't suppose you'd consider
renting it out by the day.
Just when you're not here.
You don't think
it's a little cheerful...
for "The secret of love is greater
than the secret of death"?
All right, I'll change it
back to comedy then.
I'm not narrow
about what I write, you know.
I'll try whatever the mood is.
I take it then you weren't very much
impressed with the play this evening.
- Why do you say that?
- It was a little too lowbrow for you, wasn't it?
I didn't mind that.
I understand the needs
of the commercial theater...
but I think of everything
from the viewpoint of the writer.
That means I examine
the psychology very closely.
Oh, I see.
That was basically
a stupid idea in that play-
That a man could run around
with another woman...
and then find out suddenly that he was
really in love with his wife all the time.
It just isn't possible
with genuine people.
- Is this official?
- Really, I'm not kidding, Peter.
When you're in love,
you're in love.
When you stop being in love,
you stop.
You just can't start up again,
like a stalled motorboat.
Why not?
Because you can't.
That's why not.
You, for example.
You couldn't possibly fall out of love
with Iris and then fall back in again.
Nor she with you.
But she did.
What do you mean, she did?
Exactly what you said
she couldn't do.
She fell in love with another guy
a few years ago...
and when that turned out
to be a mistake...
she fell back in love with me...
just like your motorboat
starting up again.
And all the time you kept on being
in love with her?
I did.
- Who was the man?
- Fella named Martin.
Friend of the family, of course.
But what does it matter
who he was?
Did you hate him?
I think you could be safe
in assuming that this...
didn't leave him
embedded in my heart.
Well then, that doesn't prove anything,
just because she says she loves you now.
I don't want to be personal, of course...
but psychologically speaking, I wouldn't
be so sure that you're in love with her now.
Maybe not, but I wouldn't risk any dough
on that if I were you.
And I wouldn't be at all sure
that if another girl came along...
just as attractive-
Oh. Hello.
What is it?
Wrong floor, or coming to see me?
Coming to see you, of course.
Lottie, you remember
Miss Ordway, don't you?
- Matter of fact, I met her at your party.
- Indeed I do.
You were the girl who wasn't invited.
How are you?
- Fine, thank you.
- And, uh, Mr. Mullen.
- Of course. How are you?
- How are you?
Lottie, I'm terribly sorry, but I
have to take Miss Ordway home now.
- Would you all like to go in and wait until I come back?
- Not tonight, thanks.
It was just a drop-in
in case you were still up... and lonely.
What do you hear
from your wife Iris?
Another two, three weeks yet.
- How'd it go tonight?
- All but the last two rows.
- Good night, Miss Ordway.
- Good night.
- See you tomorrow, Brian.
- Sure.
Odd choice, if I may be so bold.
Oh, for the love
of Pete, Lottie.
- Good morning, miss.
- Good morning.
I'm Nancy Ordway.
Did Mr. Denver tell you I'd be here?
Yeah. He told me
you were gonna write here.
Well, I'm going to try anyway.
I'll be here every day
until Mrs. Denver gets back.
Will I be in your way if I just stay here
in this room and write?
Oh, no. I'm generally through here
by 10:00 or 10:30.
I work upstairs for lunch...
but if you want anything
before I go...
you'll find me
in the bedroom or the kitchen.
Thank you. Lucia, isn't it?
Yeah, that's right. Lucia.
Iris is coming in.
I've got to meet her at 6:00.
Sure, Peter. I'll look in tomorrow,
if it'll be convenient.
Tomorrow will be fine.
Did you get in touch with Miss Ordway?
Yes. I told her Mrs. Denver was
coming back today...
- and that you'd get in touch with her in a couple of days.
- Fine.
Said she understood,
and for me to thank you.
I'll see you tomorrow, Gordon.
Uh, did he say Miss Ordway?
Yeah. She's a young writer
he picked up somewhere.
She's been working in the apartment
for the past few weeks.
Sounds goofy to me, but you know
what a soft touch Peter is.
Why? Do you know her?
No. No, I guess not.
- Hiya, honey.
- Hiya, darling.
What about the show?
Holding up very well.
In fact, it looks now as if it might run
into next season.
Lottie behaving herself?
Well, I think I'm the only one around
the theater still speaking to her...
but nobody's actually
clobbered her yet.
- Poor Brian.
- If he doesn't like that sort of thing...
he should never have said yes.
Oh, for heaven's sakes.
You haven't let Lottie put on some
frightful homecoming production, have you?
No, I'm afraid we've still got
Miss Ordway with us.
Who's Miss Ordway?
You remember I told you I took this kid
out to dinner the day you left?
- Oh, yes.
- Well, I've been letting her work here during the day.
She's a writer.
She's supposed to be gone.
I'II, uh-
I'll tell you about it later.
What does she do,
write in the dark?
She's a nut about that piece.
She must be a nut
about other things too.
"The secret of love is greater than
the secret of death. "
Maybe she's in the kitchen.
- She must be in the bathroom.
- I'll get her.
What is it?
What's the matter, honey?
Hey, what's the matter? Can't you
pull that sheet back off her face?
Hold it. Hold it. Hold it.
Hold it now. Hold it.
Thank you.
How did she happen to be here
in this apartment?
I gave her a key.
She said where she lived
wasn't very cheerful for writing...
so when she asked if she could work here
during the day, I said okay.
- How long ago was that?
- Something like two weeks ago.
And how long had you known her?
Two, three weeks before that.
He met herJune 6,
the day I left for New Orleans.
He told me about it
on the phone that night.
Where did you
meet her, Mr. Denver?
- Upstairs, at a party at Carlotta Marin's.
- The actress?
That's right.
She's in a show of mine.
Was she a friend
of Miss Marin's?
No, she came to the party
with another girl.
I don't know who the other girl was.
I never met her.
- Did you see much of her after that?
- Not a great deal, no.
We had dinner together that night
and a couple of other nights.
Now and then
I'd talk to her on the phone.
Did you know anything
about her family?
All I know is that she said she came
from Savannah, Georgia...
and that her mother and father
were both dead.
What do you make of this?
That's a quotation
from the opera Salome.
She was writing a story
around that theme, I believe.
Why the drawing?
I don't know...
except that she often left
drawings like that around...
with some kind
of a facetious comment on them.
I don't know what
to make of that one.
You think it was meant
as a suicide note?
I suppose so, if you want
to take it that way.
- But how else could you take it?
- I don't know.
I don't know what
she might have meant by it.
Well, if we take it for the moment
as a suicide note...
wouldn't that suggest
something else to you?
- What?
- Wouldn't that suggest that there was something more...
than a casual relationship
between you?
I don't care what
it suggests to you.
The fact remains that I had no romantic
interest in Miss Ordway...
nor the slightest reason
to suspect that she had any in me.
And in case there's any
doubt about it, Lieutenant...
I think you ought to know
that Mr. Denver and I...
are not members
of a giddy nightclub set...
who run around having casual affairs
with other members of the group.
We've been married
for seven years...
and if you'll forgive
an old-fashioned expression...
we're still in love
with each other.
I'll try and keep that
in mind, Mrs. Denver.
You said there were other
drawings like this.
- Where are they?
- I threw 'em out, I suppose.
I can't remember.
Oh, wait a minute.
Yes, here's one.
This is the first one
I ever got from her.
That's how she reminded me
of her phone number.
I'll keep this one
for the time being.
Now, if we dismiss the idea
of a romance between you...
what other motive can you think of
for what she did?
Well, she was almost unbelievably serious
about her writing.
She might have been
discouraged about that.
- But why in your apartment?
- I don't know.
- You can't even suggest a possibility?
- No, I can't.
Did she ever strike you
as a neurotic?
Not much more than
the rest of us, no.
- Reasonably normal?
- So she seemed to me.
- Then if you can't think
of anything else at the moment-
Will you stop this silly imitation
of Dragnet...
and let me in?
Let her in.
What is it, Peter?
Miss Ordway killed herself here
this afternoon.
Do you mean that child
you met at my party?
That's the one.
Oh, good heavens.
Iris, you poor thing.
Well, how did she do it?
She hanged herself.
- She was insane.
- Why do you say that?
To hang herself when she could
have used pills. Who are you?
Lieutenant Bruce is a detective.
- Miss Carlotta Marin, Lieutenant.
- I recognize Miss Marin.
How do you do?
We won't stay, darling.
I know this is no time for that.
- But may I say one thing to you?
- Of course.
Without knowing
anything else about the case...
I can just imagine
the first thought...
that came into your mind when you heard
what had happened.
But it's not true.
Not possibly.
To put the kindest face
possible on it...
the girl was a little horror-
a transparent, syrupy little phony...
with about as much to offer a man
as Cuckoo the Bird Girl.
Not even Peter, with all of his radiant
innocence about women...
could have been stirred for one instant
by that dingy little creep.
Lottie, the girl is dead.
I know...
and that's precisely why
I refuse to speak harshly of her.
But you and Iris are my friends...
and I refuse also to remain silent...
when a thoroughly tragic
misunderstanding is possible here.
Well, isn't that so, Officer?
I hope not, of course.
Well, then believe
what I'm telling you.
I know exactly what's in your mind,
and it's utter nonsense.
Stick to it, and you can only wind up...
by making a public
spectacle of yourself.
- Thanks for the tip, ma'am.
- And don't you worry either, darling.
I'll explain the whole thing to Iris.
Call me the minute
these people are out of here.
Come along, darling.
A very forceful woman.
One more thing, Mr. Denver.
I wonder if you could tell me
where you were this afternoon...
before you went to meet Mrs. Denver.
- I went to a movie.
- Which one?
It was an old picture at the Star Theater
on 42nd Street.
I'm casting a play now. There was
a Hollywood actor in it I wanted to see.
What was the name of it?
The Girl in the Window.
- Anybody with you?
- No, I went alone.
Did you see anybody that you knew,
or might know you?
No.
Thanks.
- Good night, Mrs. Denver.
- Good night.
Come here, dear.
Sit here.
Was that the truth?
That was the truth, all right...
but I'm beginning to wonder
who's going to believe it.
Well, I am, for one.
Do you mind
Mrs. Denver being here?
Not if you don't.
Come in, Mrs. Denver.
- Thank you.
- Sit down.
We were just wondering
if you had anything to add...
from what you told us last night.
No, not that I can think of.
Too bad about the fuss
it's kicking up in the papers.
But that's one of the penalties
of fame, I suppose.
Send in Miss Colletti.
- Miss Colletti?
- Lucia.
- Oh, of course.
- You're on friendly terms, aren't you?
Quite. We're very fond of her.
There's no reason to assume
a grudge or anything like that?
- No, not that I know of.
- Come in, Mrs. Colletti.
- I'm sorry, Mrs. Denver.
- That's all right. We understand, Lucia.
You're Mrs. Lucia Colletti. You work as
a part-time maid for Mr. And Mrs. Denver...
and also for Mr. And Mrs. Brian Mullen...
in an apartment upstairs
in the same building.
Mrs. Mullen being better known
as Miss Carlotta Marin.
- Is that correct?
- Yes, sir.
Did you tell us last night
that Mr. Denver once gave you $10...
not to mention Miss Ordway's presence
in Mr. Denver's apartment?
I'll answer that. I did.
But it was only not to mention
it to Miss Marin...
who is a foolish gossip
and a mischief maker.
I didn't care to have Miss Marin
make a scandalous story...
out of an innocent,
if possibly stupid, arrangement.
I thought you and Miss Marin
were very good friends.
Not really.
She likes Mrs. Denver, I believe, after
her fashion, but I'm sure she loathes me.
For any particular reason?
I'm her employer.
How often did you see Miss Ordway
in Mr. Denver's apartment?
- Every day, sir.
- And what was she doing there?
Writing on the typewriter.
And how was she dressed?
Always, sir.
Uh, except that once.
Do you mind telling us again
about that once?
Once she was asleep in the bed.
Whose bed?
One of the beds in the bedroom.
What was she wearing that morning?
- Pajamas, sir.
- Whose?
- Mrs. Denver's, sir.
- Was she alone?
Oh, yes, sir.
That's all, Mrs. Colletti.
Thank you very much.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Denver.
I had to tell them.
That's all right. I understand.
So all right, she took a nap one morning.
What does that prove?
Send Miss Amberly in.
You know who Miss Amberly is,
don't you?
- No.
- She's the young lady that lived with Miss Ordway.
Mr. And Mrs. Denver,
Miss Amberly.
- Sit down, won't you?
- No, thanks.
You don't mind going over some of the same
ground of your story...
as you did last night, do you?
Not at all. Anything you want.
Well, from what
Miss Ordway told you...
what was your impression of the
relationship between her and Mr. Denver?
It was not simply an impression.
Nanny told me what it was
in so many words.
She was in love with him,
and he was in love with her.
- Now, just a-
- Don't interrupt, Mr. Denver.
I want you to hear
what she's got to say first.
Then you can talk if you want to.
Did Miss Ordway know
that Mr. Denver was a married man?
Of course.
That was the tragedy of it.
But you understood from her he promised
at last to divorce his wife?
That's what he told her,
but I warned her then he'd never do it.
This woman must be
out of her mind.
I don't know whether these are
Nancy Ordway's lies or her own...
but every word she's uttered is a lie.
And from your talks with her,
were you able to decide for yourself...
whether this relationship
was platonic or not?
It wasn't necessary
for me to decide for myself.
Nanny told me the whole sordid story.
It was not.
That's all, Miss Amberly.
Thank you very much.
No. No, that is not all.
Just one minute, Miss-
But you're not gonna
let her get away with that.
Get away with what?
You just let that woman
accuse me of seducing a girl...
make a false promise of marriage,
and then drive her to suicide...
without giving me the slightest
opportunity to come back at her.
Now, is that what
you call a fair shake?
But you deny it all, don't you?
Of course I deny it all, because it isn't true
- not one word of it.
Then can you offer a suggestion
why either she or Miss Ordway...
should make up such a story
if it weren't true?
Well, obviously,
the woman is a neurotic.
I can't even understand
your listening to such a lunatic.
We have to listen to everything that has a
bearing on an unnatural death, Mr. Denver.
- That's our job.
- Is it a crime to have known a girl that killed herself?
- No.
- Then what's the reason for all this gumshoe work...
dragging in all these people
to blacken me in this case?
- Oh, that was your idea.
- What do you mean?
Suicides are almost invariably
neurotics of one kind or another...
but you insist that this girl
was quite normal.
And there was no reason for her to kill
herself because of you or in your apartment...
so obviously we gotta look
further for the explanation.
- Is there anything else?
- Not now.
I'll call you if there is.
The time of her death,
in case you're interested...
was between 2:30 and 4:00
in the afternoon.
Thanks.
- Do you want to go home?
- I suppose so.
Sixty-seventh and Fifth.
- And where are you going?
- The office first.
I'll be home around 6:00 or so.
I don't want to be
troublesome, Miss Amberly...
but I've got to know
something more...
about that story
you told the police.
I have nothing whatever
to say to you, so will you please get out?
- Mr. Denver?
- Will you make him leave, John?
- Who are you?
- I'm her brother, John Amberly. What do you want?
- I want to know why your sister lied about me this morning.
- I did not lie.
Then Miss Ordway lied to you, Miss Amberly,
if that's where you got your story...
because there's not one word
of truth in it.
Now, why do you think
she did that?
- You're Peter Denver, aren't you?
- Of course.
- Husband of the celebrated Iris Denver?
- I am.
Then she didn't lie about it.
Well, then will you at least tell me where
you met her, or who introduced her to you?
She was a waitress at Sylvia's
over on 17 th near Eighth Avenue.
- What's that got to do with it?
- Where was she living then?
With some other girl.
I don't know who.
Why do you answer him?
He has no right to ask us questions.
Are you going to get out,
or do you want me to call the police?
I wish you'd try to understand
my position, Miss Amberly.
No matter what she told you,
I was nothing whatever to Nancy Ordway.
Nothing whatever.
My life's being chewed up here without
my having the slightest idea how or why.
That's really wonderful.
Your life's being chewed up.
And what about his?
I suppose that's nothing.
I don't know what she's talking about.
I loved her.
I wanted her to marry me.
And she would have too,
if it hadn't been for you.
Did she tell you that?
No, that's what she told my sister.
- Is that true, Miss Amberly?
- It is.
Now I've asked you
for the last time.
Are you going to get out,
or shall I call the police?
Well, if you don't
mind my saying so...
I'm very sorry for you too,
Mr. Amberly.
Oh, I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent
explanation for this.
After all, the girl was
alone in the apartment...
and she may very well have decided...
to simply sleep
instead of work that morning.
Not an altogether
unnatural choice, if you ask me.
But what about
that other woman?
I have a confession
to make to you, Iris.
I lied to that detective last night.
I was giving Peter
the benefit of the doubt.
But after what you've
heard this morning...
I see no further need
of trying to protect him.
- I've known all along about that girl.
- Have you really?
I saw her in and out of this building
a dozen times, day and night.
Not that I placed
any evil construction on it then...
but now I find myself
quite unable...
to continue thinking of them
as two young music lovers...
listening steadily to the phonograph
for something like six weeks.
Well, I still can't believe it.
Now, there's no one in the world
fonder of Peter than I am...
but if I were in your place-
and believe me,
I say this for your own good-
We, uh, just dropped in
to see if there was anything new.
- Good of you.
- Thank you, darling.
Honey.
Now what was it you were going to
tell Iris for her own good, may I ask?
Can you really hear through the keyhole
of a Yale lock?
The organ tones of an old-fashioned
actress, yes.
I have no objection your knowing
what I was going to tell my friend.
I was going to suggest to her
that she move out of this place.
- Why?
- You're not that obtuse.
All right, then
I'm going to take the liberty...
of making a suggestion to you.
From now on, would you be good enough
to keep your advice to yourself?
- Now, Peter, please.
- I don't see how you could take a wiser position...
after all that's gone on
in this apartment...
- while your wife was away.
- Oh, cut that out, Lottie.
In fact, it might be just as well
if you never came in here again.
Look, both of you,
I know we're all upset and all that...
but don't let's say anything
we'll be sorry for later.
Ever since she moved
into this building...
she's been poking her nose into
my business, and I'm sick of it.
- Now get out and stay out.
- With the greatest of pleasure, Mr. Denver.
Out of here and out
of your theater too.
Oh, don't be a fool, Lottie.
We'll see who the fool is
when our young hero...
tries to raise the curtain
tomorrow night.
Ring for the elevator, will you?
- Don't take that too seriously, Peter.
- Oh, forget it.
I don't care whether
she ever plays again or not.
She doesn't mean it, really.
She just flew off the handle for a moment.
In her heart, she's
for both of you, believe me.
Like this afternoon when that detective
was prying around upstairs-
- not one word out of her.
- Come on, will you?
I'm coming.
You, uh, heard the girl
was pregnant, didn't you?
No, I didn't.
That cop told us this afternoon.
Anything else?
Nothing to top that.
Think you'd like
to go out for dinner?
Listen to this.
"My dear Iris.
"We've talked of you
so often and with such sympathy...
I'm sure you won't mind
my calling you Iris. "
Who's it from?
From Nanny.
Nanny Ordway.
"Nevertheless, this is not an easy letter
to write, as you can well imagine.
"But since Peter's already told you
what has happened to us...
I feel I must add something by way
of explaining Peter's side of the case. "
- Let me see that.
- Let me see it first, if you don't mind.
"You must understand
that he was no more to blame...
"he had no more control
over his emotions...
than you had when you realized you'd lost
your heart to Martin. "
How could you have told her that?
But I didn't.
Not like that, I mean.
I- I never told her one thing-
Oh, Peter, please.
Don't talk to me as if I were an idiot.
- Where else would she have got the name?
- Will you let me explain?
What did you do, just sit here
and tell her everything about you and me?
No, no, of course not.
What she's done-
She's taken one stupid,
foolish remark...
and built it into this impossible lie.
Everybody's lying but you.
Lucia, that other woman,
Nanny Ordway-
they're all lying but you.
But it's the truth, darling.
I swear it.
- Please.
- What are you gonna do?
I don't know.
Except I-
I can't stay here any longer.
Well, she's gone.
- Oh, no.
- Mmm. Cook just told me.
- Where'd she go?
- Who knows?
Poor Peter.
Yes, indeedy.
My heart just bleeds for him.
Don't you think you're being
a bit unfair to him?
Do you think so, really?
Well, you have no proof
of anything, have you?
Do you think it was all right for him
to go running around with another woman?
Well, I have no reason
to think it was all wrong.
Would you do it?
Ah, well, that's a somewhat
different situation.
In what way?
Because, after all,
you and I have an understanding.
What sort of understanding,
may I ask?
You know. The understanding that if ever
you catch me with another woman...
you'll break my neck.
- You object to that?
- Of course not.
You better not.
You want me to pick you up
after the show?
What show?
- You weren't serious about that, were you?
- Indeed I was.
I'm through with Mr. Peter
Denver forever, and that's final.
But you've got a contract, darling.
You can't just walk out like that.
I can if Dr. Harstone
advises it...
for the sake of my health, can't I?
- Oh, hello, Lieutenant.
- Mr. Mullen.
Do you have any idea where we might
be able to find Mrs. Denver?
There's no answer
at her apartment.
No, I haven't seen
either of them today.
Isn't this apartment
identical with theirs?
Yes, except that we have
a terrace and they don't.
- May I see the arrangement?
- Of course. Come in.
- Sergeant Welch, Mr. Brian Mullen.
- How do you do?
- How do you do?
- It's just a matter of measurements...
and if these rooms are identical,
I guess this is just as good as the other.
- Is it all right if he goes into the bedroom?
- Of course.
The maid hasn't been in yet,
but, um, right straight through.
But don't you dare tell her I let anybody
in there before it was straightened up.
Cops don't matter.
May I see the kitchen arrangement?
Certainly.
It's just this dining room.
This is the breakfast room.
And this is the kitchen.
And it's exactly the same
in the apartment downstairs?
Except for the furniture.
Is this anything?
Oh, no, that's just some doodles my wife
makes when she's phoning.
Would you answer one or two questions
strictly off the record?
I'll try.
What do you think
of Denver's story?
I don't know.
I can't figure it.
This is entirely confidential,
you understand.
I understand.
What was his reputation
about women?
Very good, so far as I know.
- No chasing?
- I've never known of any.
You think he'd be capable
of murder?
Murder?
Why murder?
Look, as it turns out,
the girl didn't kill herself.
She was murdered-
choked to death and then strung up.
We just got the report.
Oh, no.
Do you think
he could have done it?
I don't think so.
Well, what about
the evidence against him?
I just can't see Peter
doing a thing like that.
There's nothing official
about this, you understand.
We're just talking
off the record.
But sometimes you have a feeling
about a person that you know very well...
that either he is capable
of killing somebody or he isn't.
It's just a feeling, but occasionally I've
found it has a definite bearing on the truth.
Is he charged with it?
Well, we can't very well
dismiss the evidence, can we?
This about it?
And, uh, what if he could prove that he was
at that movie at the time the girl was killed?
To tell you the truth, Mr. Mullen...
I've rarely met a murderer who wasn't
at a movie at the time of the murder.
I hope you'll remember, please,
that this was strictly between ourselves.
I won't mention it, and I'd rather
you didn't, if you don't mind.
- I understand. - We're all after
the same thing, of course- the truth.
And every little bit helps, you know.
Well, I just can't believe it about Peter.
That's all.
- Thanks anyway.
- Glad to meet you, Mr. Marin.
- Mullen.
- Oh, that's all right. I'm used to that.
- Yeah?
- Mr. Mullen on two.
- Brian?
- Have you heard from the police yet?
Nothing new. Why?
I've got some very bad news
for you, Peter.
Nanny didn't kill herself.
She was murdered.
Who said she was?
That Detective Bruce was
up here just now and told me.
Had a report from the autopsy.
Obviously, they're gonna
try and pin it on you.
- You mean arrest me?
- I suppose so. That's the usual routine, isn't it?
Have you got a lawyer?
Just a minute. Yes?
Sergeant Owens from the
police is here to see you.
Okay. Uh, just hold it
a minute, will you?
Take a glance.
Lieutenant Bruce speaking.
Sergeant Owens, Lieutenant.
- The so-and-so powdered out on us.
- You're kidding.
Without even asking us
what we wanted.
- What was he wearing?
- What was the man wearing?
Dark slacks.
- Yeah.
- Light, checked sports jacket.
- Yeah.
- Gray hat.
All cars, especially cars in
the vicinity ofTimes Square...
be on the lookout
for Peter Denver.
Wanted for questioning
in homicide.
Denver, about 36, 180 pounds...
wearing dark slacks,
light, checked sports jacket.
- Hello?
- Brian?
- We got cut off.
- Are you alone?
- Yes.
- Well, they came for me, but I got out.
If they lock me up now,
I'm a dead duck.
Can you stay by that phone
for a while?
Of course, but are you sure
you should have done that?
I don't now, but it's a cinch
I'm not gonna be able...
to do anything for myself
if I'm in the Tombs.
I've got to dig into
this thing while I can.
All right.
Well, what do you want me to do?
Nothing. Just stand by in case I need
to get in touch with somebody.
- Okay. I'll be here.
- I'll call you later.
- Who is it?
- Lieutenant Bruce, Miss Amberly.
- Let me go!
- Try to scream, you're gonna get hurt. You understand?
- Please!
- Do you understand what I said?
- Yes.
- I don't know whether you know it or not...
but Nancy Ordway was murdered,
and they're trying to hang it on me.
So you can figure out for yourself
whether I mean this or not.
- You let me go!
- Are you gonna keep quiet?
- You've got no right-
- Are you gonna keep quiet or not?
- Yes.
- All right.
But don't kid yourself.
You make one sound,
and you're gonna be sorry for it.
You understand that?
Now I want you to tell me something,
and I want the truth too.
- When did that girl first tell you about me?
- You killed her.
Answer me, you idiot! When did
that girl first tell you about me?
- Please!
- Then answer me.
It was the dayJohn asked her to marry him.
She told me that night.
When was that?
How long ago?
June 2.
It was on his birthday.
What makes you
so sure of that?
That's when he asked her-
the day he was 21.
And that same night, she told
you about this other man?
Yes. But I'd already
guessed some of it.
What had you
already guessed?
That she was in love
with somebody-
a married man probably.
She was so unhappy about it.
How long had you guessed that?
I don't know.
Several weeks I suppose.
And that same night,
she told you that it was me?
She did.
What did she say exactly?
That you were in love.
That you were married.
You didn't think your wife
would give you a divorce.
Did she tell you then
that she was gonna have a child?
No. Not then.
When did she tell you that?
Last Tuesday-
the day before you killed her.
How long had she been pregnant?
I don't know.
She didn't say.
I don't know whether
to break your neck or not...
but you're lying to me
and I know it.
But I'm not.
I swear it, I tell you.
- Where's your brother?
- Back at school.
All right, stop worrying.
I'm not gonna do anything
to you now.
But remember this.
If you tell the police about this...
I'll get you if it's the last thing
I ever do.
That girl's got me in a box here.
And apparently no one's gonna
help me out of it but myself.
So you think twice before you
decide to do anything foolish.
Operator, get me the police, quick.
Hold it here a minute.
When does this place open?
Don't open anymore.
Closed up.
- You mean for good?
- Yeah. The cops took up their license.
Who do you want there?
Well, I left a raincoat
in there the other night...
and I'd like to get it back
if I could.
- You want to see Anne about that.
- Who's Anne?
The checkroom girl.
Look, you go around there
on Eighth Avenue...
on the west side next to the corner,
and it's a bar and grill.
- She's workin' there now.
- Thank you.
I beg your pardon.
You Anne?
Yeah.
Can I talk to you alone
a few minutes?
- What about?
- Nancy Ordway.
- Oh, you're Peter Denver, aren't you?
- Yeah.
I saw your picture
in the paper.
- Charlie.
- Yeah?
This is a fella who wants to
talk to me about Nancy Ordway.
- Okay.
- Okay.
Looks like you're
in quite a jam.
It's worse than that.
Now they say that it wasn't suicide.
- I could have told you that from the start.
- How?
Girls like that don't kill themselves.
They're too busy for that.
- What do you mean "busy"?
- Gettin' on in the world, butterin' up to people.
- You know what she did one night?
- Huh?
Humphrey Bogart
came in the place.
She gave me two bucks to let her
help him put his coat on.
- You know the Amberlys?
- Yes.
Well, look at the way
she went after them.
That's the way she went
after everybody.
I certainly don't want to speak
disrespectfully of the dead...
but that Nanny was strictly
a purpose girl.
Do you think she was
hustling the Amberlys?
What else?
Big rich family in Boston...
social register,
nice unmarried boy.
- That was a big deal for her until you came along.
- But why me?
Why not? You're a big character-
famous, plenty of dough.
Why take the kid
if she could get you?
- But I wasn't interested in her.
- Oh, weren't you?
Not in the way everybody thinks.
What was it then, a shakedown?
I suppose so,
but I can't tell you how.
She was gonna have a baby, you know.
- Wasn't yours?
- No, I'm just the chump she hung it on.
- Well, then whose was it?
- That's what I'm tryin' to find out now.
Did she have any other boyfriends
that you might know about?
That I couldn't tell you.
Oh, she had 'em, all right,
but somewhere else, away from the joint.
That's all I ever saw,
was her in the joint.
What about this girl that she lived with
before she moved in with the Amberlys?
That wasn't any girl she lived with.
That was a fella.
I forgot about him.
- Are you sure about that?
- I'm positive.
I took her paycheck there once,
and it was his place.
- He answered the door.
- Can you remember that address?
Matter of fact, I can.
Ninety-nine West Ninth.
Three nines in a row.
You don't know
his name though?
No, I can't remember that. Just that he was
gray-haired and quite a good-looking guy.
Mm-hmm.
Well, that's something worth shooting at
anyway. Thank you very much, Anne.
- Cops after you for it?
- I guess so, by now.
Well, don't worry.
I never saw you.
No, don't do that.
Don't get yourself mixed up in this.
If they ask you, you just tell
'em exactly what you've told me.
Okay then, if that's
the way you want it.
May I come in?
Certainly, Peter.
- You've come about Nanny I suppose.
- You bet I have.
And I think you ought to know that
the police are coming down here too.
That fellow Bruce, that detective-
he talked to Sylvia on the coast.
She told him
that I was Nanny's uncle.
- You're Nanny's uncle?
- She's my sister's child.
Then why didn't you
say so before?
- Well, I assumed that you knew that anyway.
- Well, I didn't.
So what else
you been holding back?
I don't know how you want me
to answer that, Peter.
You knew she had a lover,
didn't you?
- Yes, I knew it.
- You know who he was?
- Yes.
- Well, who?
I'm not gonna argue with you
about this, Gordon.
Now, if she had a lover, that's the man
that killed her. And I want his name.
Now let's have it.
- Killed her?
- That's right, killed her. She was murdered.
Now is that clear to you?
Oh, good heavens.
Oh, no, Peter.
Oh, it can't be.
Who was he?
- Oh, please, Peter.
- Who was he? Tell me.
Well, she told me it was you.
Gordon, you're lying to me.
That's what she said.
I swear it.
When did she say that?
- The day- The day before she died.
- What else did she say?
She told me everything.
She told me the whole story.
All right, then suppose
you tell it to me.
Well, I knew that she'd been
bringing somebody here when I was out.
She still had a key to the place.
But I had no idea who it was...
until that day she came here
crying and half out of her mind.
And then she told me
the whole story.
And she actually
said me by name?
Yes.
Uh, not at first, but, uh-
Who did she say at first?
Well, I meant she didn't
say any names first.
She was pretty hysterical,
you understand.
And even when she went on
about this man...
and about his being married
to a famous wife and all...
and what a fight she'd probably
make against a divorce-
Even then it wasn't
until she said Iris...
that I realized you were
the one she was talking about.
And then when I heard
she was dead in your apartment-
Well, it was then I decided
not to say anything to anybody.
Just, uh-Just tell me
one more thing.
Whatever I can, Peter.
You say, at first, that you
didn't realize she meant me.
Who did you think
she meant at first?
Why, as a matter of fact-
- Is that them?
- I suppose so.
- How do I get out of here?
- You're not gonna run away, are you?
Is there a door
at the back of this hall?
Yes, but don't you think
that's rather foolish?
They're bound to catch you
sooner or later.
- May we come in?
- Right in here.
- Can I, uh, fix you a drink?
- No, thanks.
- We'd just like to ask you one question.
- Yes?
We'd like for you to tell us everything
you just told Mr. Denver.
Oh, darling.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
That's all right, honey.
Miss Mills just told me, but neither
of us knew where to look for you.
She tell you what they say now?
What idiocy.
You may be dumb about some things,
but you're not dumb enough...
to kill someone in your own apartment
and then leave her there.
Then all I've got to do now
is sell that to the cops.
Have you any idea yet?
Yeah. A very good idea.
- Who?
- I think it was Brian.
- Brian?
- That's who I think it was.
But Brian's such a nothing.
I don't know, of course, but...
I've been slamming around town
like a TV detective...
and that's the way it looks to me.
All I can prove though
is that I wasn't her sweetie.
How can you prove that?
Because she was talkin'
about this guy on June 2...
and I hadn't even
met her on June 2.
I never met her until the day you
left town, which was June 6, remember?
- Did Brian know her then?
- That I don't know either.
But she was already
talking about a famous wife.
And then just about
10 minutes ago...
it finally began to trickle
into this thick skull of mine...
that I'm not the only character
around town with a celebrated wife.
Well, then that's it, isn't it?
For me maybe, but not
for the police, I'm afraid.
Not yet anyway.
No, what I- I really think
I better do now is-
What?
You feel like helping me
a bit with this?
You name it, honey.
I want Lottie out of their apartment
for about an hour or so...
so I can have a little talk with Brian.
Think you can manage that?
You watch and wait and see.
Hello?
Hello. Is Lottie there, Brian?
Right here, darling.
How are you?
I'm all right. Thank you.
Will you put her on, please?
Of course, darling.
Just one moment.
Poor Lottie.
Iris, darling, where are you?
Are you doing anything
important right now?
I'll be right over.
Where are you?
Well, I'll be back at my hotel.
I'm at the Grenada.
- In 15 minutes?
- I'll be there.
I've been wanting to talk to you all day.
What's the room?
Room 411.
Oh. Come in.
Lottie just went out-
to see Iris, as a matter of fact.
I know.
I asked Iris to call her.
Oh, really?
Would you like a drink?
No, thanks. Not now.
I've just been talking to Gordon.
Gordon Ling?
He told me about you and Nanny.
Who told him?
He just put two and two together.
Is that what Iris
is gonna tell Lottie?
No, but I'd like you to tell me about it,
if you don't mind.
I'm terribly sorry, Peter.
I'm sure you are, but that's
not gonna be enough this time.
I'm being chased
for murder, remember?
I was just too scared
to say anything at all.
And it wasn't murder then,
you know, and you were already in it.
Go on.
You don't know what it means
to be married to a woman like Lottie...
but I'll tell you this.
It's pretty lonely at times.
Pretty humiliating too...
when you let yourself
think about it.
"Rich actress's kept husband,"
and all that sort of talk.
Get on with it, will you?
And so when this thing
started with Nanny...
it was a new kind
of life for me-
loved like that, and being
treated with, really, respect.
You know what I mean?
I know what you mean.
Go on.
It was really pretty wonderful,
and then...
all of a sudden I realized that this girl
was almost literally insane about me.
It was no use trying
to make her understand...
that I couldn't
get a divorce from Lottie.
Not that I wanted one,
to tell the truth.
But even if I had, Lottie would never have
gone for a deal like that...
in a thousand years,
and I knew it.
So I told her that even if
I was able to find a way out...
how was I going to support her?
I've never been able to make
a decent living, Peter.
I don't kid myself about that.
I'm a hitchhiker.
Without Lottie, I'd be
doing good not to starve.
You know that as well as I do.
So what did you do?
Are you sure you want me
to go on about this, Peter?
Why not?
Well, then she started
to threaten me.
She was going to tell Lottie.
That's when I really
began to get panicky.
- About the baby?
- Well, that's the strange part of it.
I didn't know anything about
the baby until that afternoon.
What afternoon?
That afternoon in your apartment.
What happened then?
Well, it was about 2:00
when she called me.
Lottie was out, thank heavens,
at the photographer's.
Are you alone?
Yes, but you shouldn't
call me in the daytime.
- I've asked you.
- I won't do it again, but I had to this time.
I've got something
very wonderful to tell you.
Will you come down here?
- Now look, dear-
- Please, darling.
This is very dangerous, you know.
Now stop worrying.
Lucia's gone and Peter
won't be back until 6:00.
This may be the very last time we'll have
to sneak around and be scared like this.
Because I've fixed it
so we can be married.
- You do love me, don't you?
- You know I do, darling, but I've told you how impossible it is.
Then it's got to be done, Brian,
because we're going to have a child.
I'd do anything on earth-
I'd give half my life if I could make you
as happy about it as I am.
Nanny, darling...
if only there was
some reasonable way for us-
- But there is now, if you love me enough.
- How?
Because I'm going to get
some money-
so much money that you'll
be able to leave that woman...
and then never have to worry
about that part of it again.
- Well, what do you mean?
- I'm going to get it from Peter.
I'm going to send a lawyer
to him about our child.
Are you joking?
Of course not.
Peter's rich.
Don't you think it would
be worth $50,000 to him...
to keep a story like that
out of the papers?
You must be joking.
Don't you want to marry me?
- I do, darling, but what you're saying is insane.
- Why is it?
Well, for one thing,
you'd never get away with it.
But it's already fixed, I tell you.
Claire Amberly knows it,
Uncle Gordon knows it...
and I've even written to his wife
and told her about it.
Well, this is really crazy.
Peter's my friend.
He's been your friend. How could you-
Do you mean you're more concerned
about him than you are about me?
Well, that's not it at all.
It's just that you simply can't do this...
to a perfectly decent,
innocent person.
- Then what would you say if I sent the
lawyer to you? - Now listen, darling-
How would you like that in the papers? "Carlotta
Marin's Husband Father's Girl's Child. "
- Think you'd like that better? - Don't
be a fool. All I'm trying to tell you-
All you're trying to tell me is you want
to leave me this way!
You want everyone
in the building to hear you?
You bet I do!
I want everybody in the world-
Very clever, Mr. Denver.
It's just too bad your wife
wasn't actress enough to carry it off.
What's he trying to pull over here?
Go on, tell her.
I couldn't help it, darling.
The girl was murdered.
I don't believe it.
It's true nevertheless, Miss Marin.
Then why don't you arrest him?
- Arrest who?
- Who do you think?
I think first I'd like to hear
the rest of Mr. Mullen's story.
Sergeant Welch, who has rather an old-fashioned
approach to criminal investigation...
was thoughtful enough to leave this
little mike here this afternoon...
so we were able to listen to the first
part of it in the office downstairs.
Can I persuade you
to continue with it now?
What's he talking about?
Mr. Mullen was tellin' us
about a discussion he had...
with Miss Ordway the other afternoon
in the Denver apartment.
According to this version, she wanted
to blame their baby on Mr. Denver-
an idea to which Mr. Mullen
said he objected.
It's not true.
Will you go on from there?
She quieted down then, but she
still insisted on that insane idea.
Whichever you wish.
I can send the lawyer to him or to you.
- I don't care which.
- But it can't be done that way, Nanny.
Either way, you'll bring the
whole house down on everybody.
Nobody wins. We've got to find
some sensible way out of this thing.
All right, then you suggest one.
That's impossible right this moment. You
have to give me time to think about it.
- How much time?
- How can I answer that either?
But don't you think it'd be better in any case
to wait until we're less upset emotionally...
and then try to find a way out calmly?
All right. I'll give you exactly
15 minutes- until 3:00.
And then you can tell me whom
you want the lawyer to go to.
Please, Nanny,
you're behaving like an idiot.
Let me in. Let me in.
- Yes?
- Well, are you going to answer me or not?
- Look, darling- - Look, Brian, I
don't want to argue anymore with you.
All I want to know is
if you're with me or not.
Yes, I'm with you.
Oh, darling, I'm so glad.
I can't tell you how glad I am.
You do love me, don't you?
I do.
And think what it'll
do for us, darling.
You'll be free. We'll have more money
than we can possibly need.
And we'll have a home together
with our child.
Doesn't that sound worth
anything we have to do to get it?
I suppose so, but-
But they can stand it, darling.
They're rich and famous
and important. We're not.
Oh, they've got other things
to make up for a little trouble.
Maybe it'll bother 'em for a week or two
or even a month...
but then it'll all be over for them.
They've got other interests.
Peter will make the money back.
Meantime, look what it'll do for us.
Can't you think of it that way
for just a little while?
I'll try.
Will you come down here now?
I can't now.
I'm expecting Lottie back about 3:30.
- Just for a few minutes.
- No. I'll call you tomorrow.
Please, darling.
All right then,
but just for a few minutes.
Just tap at the door.
All right.
Go on.
That's all there was to it.
- You mean that's all you're gonna tell us?
- Nothing more to tell.
While I was getting up enough courage
to go down and see her, Lottie came in.
I'm sorry, darling.
- It's a very extraordinary story, Mr. Mullen.
- It's the truth.
Downstairs all alone in an apartment
was a young woman...
who was threatening to expose you
to your wife as the father of her child.
A few hours later
she's found dead- murdered.
Do you know all you need
to establish a case for murder?
I didn't kill her, I tell you.
You only need two things-
a motive and an opportunity.
You're a man of intelligence,
so I invite you...
to examine your own story
in the light of those two facts.
I didn't do it. I don't know who did it,
but I didn't do it.
Then suppose we offered this case
as we have it now to a court and jury.
- How would you disprove it?
- I don't know, but I didn't do it.
- The truth is that you did go back down there, didn't you?
- I didn't.
You didn't go back and try
to persuade her again to drop her threats?
I wanted to, but I didn't.
L- I hadn't got the guts.
You didn't stop her screams this time with
your hands on her throat until she was dead?
- As God is my judge, I-
- Then who do you think did, Mr. Mullen?
Didn't Peter?
What makes you think that?
Well, I took it for granted
he came home unexpectedly...
and she told him
what she was going to do.
Have you any evidence
of any kind to support that suggestion?
I have.
What sort of evidence, Miss Marin?
Everybody's known about Peter
and the girl for weeks.
But he was a friend of mine.
Is that why you accused him
of the murder twice already?
I accused him because I knew you had
nothing actual against him.
It's better that I be set down as a
wicked, jealous, spiteful woman than that-
Than that your husband
should be suspected?
Yes.
You mean you knew about
your husband and the girl?
No.
Not until just now.
I knew there was someone,
but I had no idea it was her.
I thought she was Peter's girl.
I knew nothing about Brian and her.
But that's not evidence, Miss Marin.
Is that all you've got to tell us?
No.
I was willing to keep quiet
for Mr. Denver's sake-
for the sake of anyone
who has been as close to me...
as he and Mrs. Denver have been.
But not at the risk of my husband's life...
regardless of what he's done to me.
He's hurt me...
he's destroyed my love and happiness...
but he's still not a murderer.
Go on.
I came home that afternoon
from the photographer's around 3:00...
with the proofs of the pictures
that Mr. Denver had ordered.
I knew he was anxious
to see them as soon as possible...
so I decided to stop off
at his apartment...
in case he should be there
to show them to him.
Let go, Peter! Let me go!
I'll let you go when you come to your senses!
Help, police! Police!
- And that was a little after 3:00 you say?
- It was.
And are you prepared to swear
to that statement, Miss Marin?
I am.
She's lying. I know it.
- Mr. Oliver, isn't it?
- Yes, sir.
- Do you know this young man?
- No.
He's an actor-
temporarily without a vehicle.
I'm afraid I don't remember.
Mr. Grady, my agent,
took me in to see Mr. Denver...
when he was casting the Duncan play
about two years ago.
That was just
for a few moments, of course.
Oh, yes. I remember now. You're the
boy that Mr. Kaufman recommended.
- Yes, sir. That's right.
- Yes.
- Have you seen Mr. Denver since?
- Yes, sir.
- When?
- The other afternoon.
Uh, Thursday afternoon
when he came into the Star Theater.
- And you're sure it was him?
- Oh, sure.
Most actors know Mr. Denver
by sight anyway.
And what time was that?
Oh, he came in about 2:30, I should say,
and he left about 4:30.
What makes you so certain
about those hours?
Well, I was planning
to speak to him when he came out...
about a part.
So I was keeping an eye on him...
but sometime after 4:30,
he got out without my seeing him.
You mean you hung around there
all that time just to speak to him?
I wasn't just hanging around.
I work there, taking tickets.
Temporarily, of course.
And you're still willing
to swear to that statement, Miss Marin?
Okay then.
You're under arrest, Mr. Mullen.
But he didn't do it!
Don't you think you interfered in this
thing enough already?
He couldn't have!
How do you know
he couldn't have, Miss Marin?
Because I know him.
I know what kind of person he is.
No, no, Miss Marin.
That's not what you meant at all.
You meant something else entirely.
May I suggest what it was?
Everybody else has taken
a shot at what happened.
Perhaps I can offer a version too.
What do you think of this, Miss Marin?
Will you come down here now?
I can't now.
I'm expecting Lottie back about 3:30.
- Just for a few minutes.
- No. I'll call you tomorrow.
Please, darling.
All right then, but just for a few minutes.
- Just tap on the door.
- All right.
What do you want here?
You filthy, dirty little beast.
You get out of here.
You're the one who's
going to get out of here...
and out of New York too
if you know what's good for you.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
You don't have to. All you've
got to do is get out and stay out.
That ought to be clear enough.
There.
And if ever you try to see him again...
I promise you now you'll be
sorry for it as long as you live.
You just wait until I tell him about this.
Did you hear what I said?
Maybe you're the one who's
going to be sorry for this.
You try to see him again and you'll
soon find out who's going to be sorry.
You dreadful old woman. Do you really
think this will do you any good?
- Are you going to get out or not?
- He loathes you. He despises you.
- And if you don't believe it, ask him.
- I've told you-
You don't dare to, because
you know what he'd say.
He's sick of you and your meanness,
and he's sick of being a slave.
He hates you!
He hates you!
How about that, Miss Marin?
- It's not true!
- No?
It's a complete lie,
you've made the whole thing up...
and you can't prove one word of it!
I got this in your kitchen
this morning, Miss Marin.
Is it yours?
It's some scribbles
and a grocery order.
Mr. Mullen said it was yours.
Now, uh, the police lab
tells me that this drawing...
which we took to be by the girl...
Was actually drawn by the same
hand and same ballpoint pen...
that did those doodles-which you did.
In fact, that's all we
had to go on until you-
Lottie!
You don't hate me, do you?
Please tell me.
Please!
Nancy Ordway's trouble was that she was
a purpose girl who forgot her purpose.
She fell in love.
Unfortunately, the fellow she fell in love
with was Miss Carlotta Marin's husband.
Personally, I'd just as soon try to take
something away from Rocky Marciano.
What do you think
they'll do to Lottie?
That I couldn't tell.
A thing like that's up to the jury.
I can hardly wait.
Why, Peter.
No, I mean,
for one of the greatest...
dramatic actresses
in this country to open in court.
I can already see her
in the witness chair-
without any makeup...
her hair just a little
straggled and gray...
wearing a rather faded print
dress from a bargain basement...
and no girdle.
And when this poor, brave,
pathetic little housewife...
gets through with that jury-
They'll probably convict me.
That is not impossible.