Mr. and Mrs. Norr, starring Barbara Britton and Richard Denning.
Hello! There's been a change in the jockey list. Perino's riding number six.
Well, that's our horse. Never say die. I wonder why Eddie isn't riding it. Isn't that weird?
Probably afraid to risk it with that pedigree. What are the odds? Eight to five?
Is that good or bad?
Well, it depends on whether you win or lose.
Well, I mean, I never can understand those stupid fractions. I mean, I have to put up eight dollars to win five or five dollars to win eight.
Yes.
What do you mean, yes?
A five to win eight.
But I only want to put up two.
Well, you can. You can.
Well, I wish they'd say so.
Mr. Heavens, thanks, man. Don't do there about higher mathematics.
And they're off.
Come on, come on, come on.
Oh, for Pete's sake, ma'am. Why risk losing your voice on number two? Never say die was number six.
He was last when the booby prize.
Oh, I didn't bet on never say die.
You didn't. Well, he didn't. You said you were two.
Well, I had my mind changed for me. I went up to the window and said two, please, meaning two dollars.
Well, the man gave me a ticket on number two.
It just shot up like a little jack in the box before I had a chance to stop him.
So I said to myself, wouldn't it be awful if number two should win and I'd hand it back?
So I went to the five dollar window and bought a five dollar ticket on number two as well.
I thought it was kind of a sign.
You mean to say you had seven dollars riding on that horse?
I'll pay about 30 to one.
Oh, I give up.
Positively immoral.
The owner of the car of the New York license number NN 11-39.
Please go to the car parking easily.
Smoke is pouring from the inside of your car.
See, I hope it's official, Pam. That would be terrible of anything.
Pam, that's our car.
Holy smoke.
Well, I'd pull it anything but holy. We'd better hurry up and get down there.
Mr. Tragedy, I've got a chicken in the back seat. It'll be roasted.
Oh, excuse me.
I'm the owner.
I'm afraid we have to spring this to get the door open.
Oh, thank goodness you did. Is there much damage?
No, sir. The car was full of smoke, but the opposed reason burned was these rags that were small rigged.
There was a cigar on top of them.
Well, that's strange. I don't smoke cigars.
And there certainly were no rags in there.
What's happened to my groceries?
Oh, for heaven's sakes, Pam. Have a sense of proportion.
You leave the window open?
Yes, so the butter wouldn't melt.
Oh, that's all right, but I wanted to set the thing on fire for the fun of it.
It happens often.
Oh, but why did they have to pick my brand-new car?
I just got it the day before yesterday.
Oh, the seats filthy. Look at all those bits of burnt rag.
Oh, there's a brush in the trunk. I'll get it.
Bill.
Come here.
What is it, darling?
Don't look, Pam.
Oh, look.
I'm Lieutenant Wagon. Homicide. I'll take charge.
Yes, sir.
He was dead before he was put in your car.
Literally bludgeoned to death.
I wonder if someone tried a little cream on his face.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I wonder if someone tried a little cremation.
Excuse me, Lieutenant, but I think I know who that corpse is.
Who?
Eddie Mears, a jockey.
Eddie Mears?
If you say, darling, it's no wonder he didn't ride him just now.
Is he married?
Yes, sir, to a trapeze artist.
Selma's message he used to call herself.
Bill, is there anything I can do to help?
Would you like me to break the news through the poor man's widow?
No.
This is one case, Mrs. North, that I'm going to solve without your help.
With your permission, I'll call on Selma's venison myself.
Yes?
Mrs. Mears?
Who are you?
Lieutenant Wagon, homicide.
I'd like to have a talk with you.
Oh, well, then you'd better come in.
Thank you.
Good evening.
I'm Hiram K. Jones of the Circle Y Ranch of Ransys, Texas.
Yes, I've heard of you.
Eddie's ridden some of your horses, hasn't he?
And you're a friend of Mrs. Mears?
Well, obviously, he wouldn't be here if he wasn't.
Did Eddie send you here to spy on us, Lieutenant?
Was there any reason he should have?
However, he didn't.
Eddie won't be sending anybody anywhere, Mr. Jones,
and I'm afraid he won't be riding for you again.
I don't get you.
Something's happened to Eddie.
Lieutenant, Eddie's dead.
Is that what you're telling us?
I'm afraid so.
I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, Mrs. Mears.
What happened? An accident on the track?
No, he was murdered.
What?
He was found in the back of a car of some friends of mine.
He was hit on the head with a heavy object.
Who did it?
That's what I'm trying to find out,
and I hope Mrs. Mears be able to help me.
Are you able to answer a few questions, Mrs. Mears?
What do you want to know?
Well, certain things are merely routine.
When did you last see Eddie?
At dinner here last night.
What did you talk about?
Why do you hesitate?
Tell him the truth, sir.
We'll find out anyway.
Well, I asked him for a divorce.
Hiram and I wanted to get married.
What was his reaction?
He said he'd think about it.
What happened after dinner?
Did he go out?
No.
I did.
He said he had a business appointment,
and he wanted the apartment for himself.
Did he say who the apartment was with?
No.
Where'd you go?
To a movie.
Meet any friends?
No.
I, uh, gather you didn't see Eddie then
when you got home from the movies.
He wasn't here.
He didn't sleep here last night.
Oh, didn't you think that's strange?
When he had an early morning gallop, a trial,
he often stayed at the athletic club.
So it was not to wake me when he got up.
I presume that's where he was.
Mrs. Mears, the medical reports say
that your husband was killed between
eight and nine last night.
Now, apparently, since you haven't got an alibi,
I must warn you that you're in a pretty difficult spot.
Are you accusing Mrs. Mears of murdering Eddie?
I'm accusing no one at this stage of the proceedings.
Now, Mrs. Mears, would you be kind enough
to tell me where you keep your car?
Right here in the village.
In Sam's garage.
Eatin', Mrs. Norr?
Mr. Norr?
Hello, Mrs. Meagie.
Will you be using the car again tonight, sir?
I shall have put her upstairs.
No, just leave her here. This window's been sprung.
I'll have to take it down in the morning, get it fixed.
Have an accident?
Yeah, you could call it that.
Mr. Meagie, this is a new car.
The first week you get it.
Who's car is that, Peachy? It looks exactly like ours.
Eddie Mears, the jockey.
I wouldn't have given that tip.
He'll never sit down if I knew Eddie wasn't going to ride,
because the jockey makes a mighty big difference.
Wonder why he didn't ride.
I wish I knew. It calls me a plenty.
Is Mr. Potter still here?
Right in office, sir. Thanks.
Didn't seem to know anything about it.
Evidently, the evening papers haven't got the news yet.
Well, Belk said they were keeping it out
in the coming addition.
Is Eddie Mears, isn't it?
Yes, to my pal, Len Potter.
Your pal, Eddie Mears.
Oh, don't tell me Eddie was bumped off.
It's terrible.
Poor Eddie.
It's a wicked shame, the black odds.
We think it was done here in your garage, Mr. Potter.
Probably sometime during the night.
Lesson here, Mr. Naught.
There's been no mate as committed on my premises.
What time do they say the poor boy was killed?
Between 8 and 9 p.m.?
Well, I tell you, I was here doing my accounts.
I let the night man go out for a snack at that time.
You think I wouldn't have heard something
if Eddie was getting himself beaten up and bumped off?
Yes, I suppose you would.
But you can't get away from the fact
that somebody did put Eddie's body in our car
on your premises, probably by mistake.
Oh, you're crazy. Why?
Why should anyone make such a mistake?
We can't imagine except that we just noticed
our new car is the same model as Eddie's.
You remember we told you last week
we were turning in our car for a new one.
Oh, yeah, I guess you did.
I haven't had time to look at the car yet.
I've been busy with my second-hand car business,
uh, uh, sideline I run, you know.
Mr. Naught, see, you may have a point when you say
it was a mistake.
There is, uh, one person I know
who wouldn't mind seeing Eddie out of the way.
Oh, who's that?
That Swedish Amazonie's married to her.
She's no good.
I often see her come in for a car with a latest boyfriend.
She's found herself a sucker her own size.
Hey.
Maybe the three of them had a showdown.
Maybe she rubbed Eddie out.
And then put the body in our car, mistaking it for her own.
Yeah, that's what I mean.
Plan to get rid of the corpse later.
Mr. Potter, that doesn't make sense.
She, of all people, would know her own car.
Yeah.
Yeah, but, but, but supposing it happened in her apartment.
Supposing she gave the boyfriend the dirty work
of bringing the body down here
and hiding it away in Eddie's car.
Supposing he got flustered and mixed up the cars.
It's a very ingenious theory, Mr. Potter.
Lane speaking.
Listen, you bungling punk.
How did that stiff get in the back end of the car?
Who do you think you are, Houdini?
Shut up, will you, hunch?
I tell you, I can't discuss it with you now.
I got a couple of customers in the office.
Listen, you, you keep your mouth shut about what you know about me.
I got an alibi for last night.
Have you?
Sorry for the interruption.
Some customers have frozen limits.
What's about this and that?
Oh, about my car, Mr. Potter.
I'd like to have it thoroughly cleaned inside and out.
The police really messed it up this afternoon
going over it for fingerprints.
Yeah, they got no respect for other people's property.
We'll want a new mat.
The present one has a cigar hold with either the dinner plate.
Yeah, I'll take care of it.
And I'm sorry about all of this.
And mark my words.
The question is, find the lady.
And when you do, I'll bet my last dollar
it turns out to be that double-crossin' wife of Eddie's.
Do you bet, Mr. Potter?
On the horses, I mean.
Yeah, I take an occasional flutter.
In a small way.
I expect Eddie Mears used to give you a lot of good tips.
You know today, when I went up to the tote window...
Oh, come on, Pam.
I want to hear the history of your gambling mistakes.
Probably has plenty of his own.
Good night.
Tell me, Mrs. Mears,
did Eddie do any gambling on the side?
No. He said he was paid to ride the horses, not play them.
Did you approve of that?
Well, I thought when he had a sure thing,
he might have tipped me off, but he wouldn't.
He gave them to acquaintances, never to me.
I gathered from your tone, you thought that narrow-minded.
Hey, that's a pretty good-looking ornament.
One of Eddie's prizes?
It was a tribute from his fellow jockeys
when he rode his 500th winner.
Well, what's this? This broken piece here.
Well, that must be the whip, I suppose.
Yes.
When this happened, the break, I mean.
As a matter of fact, last night, I'd forgotten all about it.
Last night? Tell me.
When I came home from the movies, it was lying on the floor.
In what position? Show me, please.
Show me, please.
Just like that, huh?
Well, didn't you think it's strange?
Frankly, Lieutenant, I had other things on my mind last night.
Such as?
What I told you, my divorce.
All right, you can pick it up now.
See, you had no difficulty lifting it.
Well, that's pretty heavy for a woman.
Those circus muscles evidently haven't grown flabby.
If you're trying to infer that I hit Eddie with that,
I tell you, I didn't, I didn't, I didn't!
Lieutenant, you're exceeding your duty.
Don't you say another word until you see my lawyer.
I'll get that, Mrs. Mears.
Hello?
Oh, Jerry, you just caught me in time.
I was going to take a stroll down to your garage.
Well, I'm glad I caught you because there's something you ought to know.
We think the garage owner, Potter, behaved very strangely.
We got the impression that he knew all the time that Eddie'd been killed,
though he pretended to be shocked.
What gave you that idea?
Well, he said he was in the garage last night between eight and nine,
and that if Eddie had been beaten up and bumped off, he'd have heard the row.
Well, we never told him how Eddie'd been killed,
so how did he happen to mention the right method?
Why didn't he save shot or stabbed?
Well, just probably a figure of speech. Anything else?
Yes. While we were there, somebody telephoned him.
Now, Pam has the idea it was probably a bookmaker,
because he said, shut up, Hunch. I can't talk to you now.
Well, if Pam says anybody with a nickname like that is obviously a bookmaker.
You know, because they have hunches on the horses.
Pam's hunch about hunch is right.
One of the biggest bookmaking operations in the East is controlled by a character named Hunch Conley.
I'll see you later, Jerry.
A little more thing, Mrs. Mears.
How has Eddie mixed up with Hunch Conley?
He wasn't. He told me Conley tried several times to get him to pull horses,
but Eddie positively refused.
Was he Eddie's mysterious visitor last night?
If he was, Eddie didn't tell me.
All right, Mrs. Mears.
Just don't try to leave town until you hear from me.
I thought you said everything was all set with Eddie,
that he was going to accept the situation like a reasonable human being.
You don't know Eddie. He said if there was any divorcing to be done, he'd do it.
Said he'd name you, too.
That ain't so good.
Some of the boys are figuring I have a run for Congress next year.
I can't afford to get mixed up in any scandal right now.
Why do we fly to Mexico and get married right away?
You heard what the man said about leaving town.
Look here, Zelma.
You sure you didn't have anything to do with getting rid of Eddie?
Suppose I did.
Would you stick by me or just run for Congress?
Well, I'm getting busy with that smoked chicken.
Well, it hasn't spoiled sitting in the car most of the day.
Well, now, what do you think I'd do with the groceries?
Well, my stars, I don't remember bringing them home.
I didn't. I'd ask them in the car.
Oh, Pam, you're the darnedest.
Yes, Jerry.
Delicious, delectable darling.
Thanks, dear, for the alliteration.
Run on down to the garage and get some for me, will you?
Oh, no.
You just try down on your little high heels and get them yourself.
I'm going to read my evening paper.
Here's the racing news, dear. You already know what it costs you.
Dear Eddie.
Dear Eddie.
We had your apartment at eight tonight.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Dear Eddie, we had your apartment at eight tonight alone.
I want to ask you a little favor.
Hunch.
What are you doing in that car, lady?
I made a mistake.
A mistake this car is just like mine.
You better come and tell that fairy tale to the boss, lady.
Get going.
But the two cars were exactly alike.
But they have different numbers, don't they?
Now, get this. This is a story you're going to tell the cops
in case they start asking a lot of questions.
You don't know my horse room. You don't know my other office.
You don't even know me.
You never laid a bet on a horse in your life.
Come in.
Well, what now?
This is Mrs. North. She's the owner of the other car.
I caught her nose and around inside Eddie's car.
What were you looking for, Mrs. North?
I don't know what right you have to question me. Who are you?
We'll cut out the formal introduction just to answer the question.
Mr. Potter, I'm very, very cross.
Your friends are very bad manners.
Will you please tell this rude, ugly man
to stop pointing a silly revolver at me?
Listen, you bail ahead.
Shut up, torpedo.
The lady has a right to her opinion of your map.
And put the toy away.
I don't think she's going to be difficult.
Now, Mrs. North, just answer the question.
What were you doing in Eddie's car?
You better tell him, Mrs. North.
Well, I don't mind telling you. I know you.
This is just a lot of nonsense.
I left my groceries in the car. I came back to get them.
I've just gotten the wrong car, that's all.
The rent's lying.
Get her own car before she got into Eddie's.
Okay.
You go outside and keep watching.
Now, what were you looking for, Mrs. North?
Nothing.
I just wanted to see if Eddie's car had the same upholstery as ours.
I don't believe you, Mrs. North.
Why are you so interested in what I did?
Hunch?
Hunch? How do you know my name?
I'm psychic. I read tea leaves and things.
But I don't drink tea.
So there are no tea leaves here.
But you're wrong again, Mr. Hunch.
I have some in this bag of groceries.
Well, what else do they tell you about me besides my name?
The future and past of you two men.
Yes, I see your future as clear as glass.
What tell us?
Two of you killed Eddie Mears.
And you go to the chair for it.
I didn't kill him, Mrs. North.
I didn't have anything to do with the murder. It was Hunch here.
Oh, sit down.
You don't have to tell me, Mr. Potter.
I see it all in my crystal ball.
Hunch paid Eddie a call last night.
Eight o'clock, wasn't it?
He wanted him to pull a horse.
He refused.
They had an argument.
And Eddie threatened to tell about the fix.
Isn't that what it's called?
Go on. You've got quite an imagination.
What is my imagination?
There's a voice whispering in my ear.
It tells me you were faced with every murderer's problem.
Now, what was that?
What to do with the body.
Well...
Well, then, what do we do about voices talking to ladies like that?
We give them a case of laryngitis.
Bad laryngitis.
You sound as though you're threatening me, Mr. Hunch.
The voices are right again. Not that I believe in them,
but you've got a hold of something.
Something you're not going to broadcast.
Because it's the truth?
If you're considering shoving me in the trunk of some car to silence me,
you'll never get away with it.
My husband knows that I came down here to get the groceries.
If anything happens to me, they'd arrest Mr. Potter at least.
He's so green and scared he'd give the whole thing away.
They'd beat the truth out of him.
She's right, Hunch.
You're not going to involve me in a second murder.
It was bad enough trying to make me frame Selma Mears
by bringing the body here and putting it in Eddie's car.
I knew it was a crazy scheme.
My, my, what talkative people.
I think you belong to each other.
I'll see what I can do about it.
Tarpito, come in here.
Start the car.
These two characters for a little holiday on my farm in the Catskills.
Give me your gun.
Mrs. Nora, ladies first.
You too, Potter.
Hunch, what are you going to do to us?
Still, you surprised me.
Now shut up. Come on.
Hunch!
Help!
Help!
Help!
Help!
Help!
Help!
Well, this is a fine welcome.
What's going on here?
Oh, I'm sorry about the wild pitch.
But don't worry, Dad.
I've got everything in the bag.
Literally.
Hunch tried to get Eddie to throw a horse,
and he almost told the authorities,
and Hunch almost admitted it was my true love.
I got the proof right here.
He was in his apartment last time.
That's the whole story.
Mr. Potter isn't a blank. He didn't do the murder.
Well, look, look, look, Pam. Pam, Pam.
Now wait a minute, please.
I can't follow a word.
Now look, we'll get the whole thing down
at the right time and the right place.
Hunch, did you knock over Eddie's racing trophy last night
by accident or on purpose?
You read tea leaves, too?
Take them, boys.
You see, I thought I was right.
I could tell your future.
I'm sorry, lady. I just didn't recognize your turban.
Pam!
Oh, there you are, darling.
I got worried you were taking so long.
Well, Bill arrived nearly late as usual.
Hi, Bill.
I was going for a long holiday, and the cats killed.
What? Why?
I don't know, because I'm a run, I guess.
Darling, what have they done to you?
Pam, you're delirious.
Sometimes it pays to be a little delirious.
Well, what's the matter with you?
You're all covered with blood.
Not blood, it's tomatoes.
But I'm lost. Can't somebody please tell me
what's been happening?
No, but I want to tell you what's going to happen
when I'm taking Pam down to the station and booking her.
On what charges?
Hitting an officer with a spoiled vegetable
and the act of him carrying out his duty.
How will you come quietly, Mrs. Norris?
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh.
Mr. And Mrs. Norris directed by Ralph Francis Murphy,
at John W. Lovedan Production.
Produced by Federal Telefilms.
Starring Barbara Britton and Richard Denning
This has been a film presentation.
