This famous nightclub owner is opening a rare vintage...
and his coffin.
Who killed him?
Was it the mind reader?
I have come here to help you identify the murderer.
The pianist?
I don't care who killed him.
The dead man' partner?
I know that makes me a good suspect.
The ambitious singer?
Oh, Jack, what is it? What's the matter?
The clumsy wine steward?
The pain was excruciating.
Or was it someone else?
Match wits with Ellery Queen,
and see if you can guess who done it.
♪ That man ♪
♪ Can really jump it, boy ♪
♪ That man ♪
♪ The only trouble is there' no way of knowing ♪
♪ Whether he' coming or going ♪
Good evening, sir.
Your check, sir.
Thank you. That won't be necessary.
You're not likely to forget me, are you?
Well, there are a lot of people here this evening, sir.
But only one Simon Brimmer.
Sir?
Simon! I was starting to worry.
My apologies, Nick. I was detained by autograph hounds.
The price of fame, you know.
- Hey, Sherlock, nice to see you. - Eddie.
Look, Simon. We really appreciate you stepping in
at the last minute like this for the broadcast.
Yeah. I'm sorry we couldn't give you more notice,
but when tonight's guest fell out,
you were the first one we thought of.
Very flattering.
Excuse me. I've got some things to check on.
I'll see you at the broadcast.
This way, son.
By the way, who was supposed to be the guest on tonight's show?
- Williams. - Tennessee?
Ted.
♪ I want a Sunday kind of love ♪
♪ A love to last past Saturday night ♪
♪ I'd like to know it' more than love at first sight ♪
♪ I want a Sunday kind of love ♪
♪ I want love that' on the square ♪
♪ Can't seem to find somebody to care ♪
♪ I'm on a Ionely road that leads me... ♪
- Aww. - Your carnation, sir.
Flora, danke schön, mein liebchen.
Nicht zu danken.
You should speak with me in English, sir,
so I learn how to better understand.
No, you understand perfectly, Flora.
Come on, now. Don't fool me.
You are far too intelligent a person
to be spending your life as a cleaning woman.
Something is troubling you. I can sense it.
Nein, nein.
Excuse me, sir.
Flora?
♪ A Sunday kind of love ♪
[Applause]
Nancy McGuire, ladies and gentlemen.
Isn't she wonderful?
[Applause]
Now we're going to take a short break, but we'll be back.
But first we'll be broadcasting our own radio show,
"Broadway from Nick and Eddie's."
Our special guest this evening...
radio's famous mystery sleuth, Simon Brimmer.
[Applause]
We'll be on the air in about 11 minutes.
I got to go to my office and pick up my notes.
- Excuse me. - Certainly.
Eddie, may I speak to you?
Can't it wait? I got things to do before the broadcast.
My agent tells me my engagement has been cut
from six weeks to two weeks.
Yeah?
But, Eddie, I gave up three months of solid bookings on the road
to accept this job.
Eddie, I thought you were on my side.
Well, I fought for you, but you know Nick...
he doesn't like mind-reading acts.
They remind him of his ex-wife.
[Sighs] But if you insisted...
No dice. Nick's my partner. I got to go along with him.
Sorry.
[Sighs]
So... Nick is the one I've got to get to.
Johnny?
Hey, baby, you were terrific tonight.
I thought you might be hungry,
so I picked up a club sandwich from the kitchen...
cold toast, colder bacon.
Well, not now... something I've got to do.
- Well, you still have to eat. - I'm not hungry.
That guy from Decca records called again.
I told you I'm not interested. Now, we're not ready for records.
Aw, Johnny, what is it? What's the matter?
Will you stop asking so many questions?
[Sighs]
I'm sorry.
Hey, look, we'll... we'll go out and get some Chinese tonight, okay?
Only, right now I've got to see Nick, okay, baby?
Sure.
Flora.
Miss McGuire.
Are you looking for somebody?
I thought Mr. Kingston might be in his office.
The powder room is running low on towels again.
Wouldn't he be in the room? It's nearly time for the radio show.
Of course. I forgot. Excuse me.
Would you check the names on this list, please?
Dad, are you sure Simon Brimmer's gonna discuss
the Allenby-Rote murder case on the air?
As sure as I am that Brimmer called my office
with an anonymous tip to listen to his radio program.
I swear to you, Eddie, if he tries to bust open my case,
I'm gonna book him on his own lousy broadcast.
May I have your hat, sir?
[Clears throat]
May I help you, gentlemen?
Yes, we'd like a table for two, please.
Do you have a reservation?
No, we don't have a reservation, but we have this.
Oh, I'm sorry... police.
Yes, we'd like a table as close as possible
to where Mr. Brimmer is doing his radio interview.
Yes, of course. This way, please.
[Snaps fingers]
Now for the supreme test.
Slightly... maybe just slightly tart,
but...
But still robust and...
And full of life.
Ohh.
[Footsteps retreating]
[Door closes]
[Footsteps retreating]
[Door locks]
[Breathing heavily]
[Glass breaks]
Would you look at these prices?
75 cents for a hamburger.
That's outrageous.
I can buy three pounds of hamburger for 75 cents.
So, why don't we listen to his broadcast
on our own radio at home?
I can't arrest him at home.
Oh, you're not gonna arrest him.
Oh, I'm not, eh?
In April, I was about to nab that Duffy woman
in the Park Avenue penthouse murders.
He went on the air, spilled the beans...
exit, Miss Duffy.
- Where's Nick? - I have no idea.
We'll have to start without him.
- Marty? - Yes, Mr. Morgan?
Find Nick and tell him we're starting the show.
- Very good, sir. - Okay.
[Dings bell]
Attention, please, ladies and gentlemen.
We're just about to go on the air,
and we'd appreciate it if you'd watch your language.
But don't let that stop you from buying drinks, okay?
Thank you.
[Laughter]
[Clears throat]
Good evening, New York.
This is Eddie Morgan at Nick and Eddie's,
Manhattan's favorite late spot.
Our special guest tonight is Mr. Mystery himself,
radio's favorite crime solver, Simon Brimmer!
First, this transcribed message.
How long can it possibly take to find a bottle of '34 Margaux?
I wasn't able to get it, Mr. Alexander.
Rack 2...
Rack 22, left rear.
I put them there myself to make room for an incoming shipment.
It's not that. The door to the wine cellar is locked.
Locked? That's ridiculous.
You haven't been nipping at the Moscatel, have you?
Me? No.
I'll see about this.
Simon, what made you decide to take a hard look at the evidence
in the Allen Berry-Rote murder case?
A simple desire for justice.
Personally, I have great respect
for Inspector Richard Queen of homicide.
It's just that this case was beyond his capabilities.
Mm.
As an expert in the field of crime, do you often get the feeling
the police are a little slow on the uptake?
Uh, yes, indeed.
More often than not,
the authorities are the last to know when something is amiss.
It's particularly true in the case of a murder investigation.
I could give you several fascinating instances
when the police were completely in the dark,
had no inkling as to what was going on,
while I, Simon Brimmer,
was on to the game from the beginning.
Gentlemen, there's been an emergency.
Will you come with me, please?
To anticipate your next question, Eddie,
yes, I have often seen the puzzled look
in the eyes of professional investigators
as they plaintively inquired, "What is it? What has happened?"
What is going on here?
And that's exactly the way you found him?
I touched nothing.
Any idea when this happened?
Well, Nick and I both met Brimmer at the door.
That was about 10 minutes before the broadcast.
And I discovered Mr. Kingston here at exactly 10:05.
A span of about 15 minutes, then.
Look, Inspector... Nick and I went back a long way.
Whoever did this, I want him.
What makes you think anybody did anything?
Well, I find it highly unlikely
that Nick Kingston padlocked himself in this room.
Brimmer.
Good evening, Inspector.
Mm. Poison, I presume, Queen,
judging from the fact that there are no marks on the body.
Simon, we haven't presumed anything yet.
I thought you were on the air.
And who told you about the padlock?
One of the waiters thought I might be interested.
Once I discovered what had happened,
I turned the broadcast back to the station
and came down to lend a hand.
- Interesting. - Stay away from that bottle.
May I suggest, Inspector,
that you analyze what little wine remains in that bottle?
May I suggest you stop telling me how to run my job?
1914, Der Schwarze Falke.
It means "Black Falcon."
Yes, I know.
An obscure label. I don't believe I've ever heard of it.
That's hardly surprising, Mr. Brimmer.
Mm.
I don't believe I caught your name.
Alexander. I'm the sommelier.
The wine steward.
How did you break your arm?
I had an accident while I was re-arranging some wine racks.
The pain was excruciating.
I'm sure it was.
Alexander, I'd appreciate it if you'd call the 15th precinct.
Ask for Sergeant Velie.
Tell him to get down here on the double
with an investigative team,
and take Brimmer with you.
Let me assure you, Inspector...
Nick Kingston was an old and dear friend,
and I shall do whatever I must to bring his killer to justice.
Expect my call in the morning.
That is all I need.
I'd better get upstairs, too, Inspector,
just to see that everybody stays calm.
Fine.
Dad? Did you notice his ring?
I'm not interested in a ring. I'm trying to solve a murder.
It's a very special ring, Dad.
Well, what's so special about it, son?
The insignia on the ring matches the emblem on the bottle.
What?
The Black Falcon.
- Dad? - What?
Oh, it's you.
Sorry, Dad, I didn't know you were asleep.
What do you mean, asleep?
I was reading the preliminary med report.
Uh-huh. Maybe we shouldn't have stayed up so late last night.
Late? 4:00?
[Chuckles]
On the Antonowsky case,
I was up 92 straight hours without a wink of sleep.
- How long ago was that? - What's that got to do with it?
Oh, nothing, nothing. Here, have a doughnut.
May I look at the report.
Thank you.
Well, they didn't identify the poison.
There's no chocolate.
They were all out. I got cinnamon.
I don't like cinnamon.
Odorless and tasteless.
Yeah, and stale.
Next time, bring me crullers.
No, I meant the poison... odorless and tasteless.
- Where does it say that? - Well, it doesn't, but it figures.
You see, Nick was a wine connoisseur.
He wouldn't have tasted it if it smelled funny,
and he wouldn't have swallowed it if it tasted bad.
The question is... how did he drink it?
- There wasn't any glass. - Drank it out of the bottle.
How could he? The bottle wasn't open.
The bottle was cracked. There was wine all over the floor.
Maestro.
Oh, Inspector, I see you woke up.
I'm always awake when I'm working on a case.
Why is it because I want to rest my eyes
people make dumb remarks?
What's the matter, Velie?
The lab just finished testing that broken wine bottle.
- There's no poison in it. - What?
Just ordinary table wine, nothing else.
The lab tried every test in the books.
The man died of poisoned wine.
He had a bottle in his hand, and you tell me it wasn't poison?
Inspector, that's what the lab told me.
And that's what I've been trying to tell you.
He didn't drink that wine.
He didn't drink any wine in the wine cellar.
The bottles were all sealed.
- What about the casks? - Empty, most of them.
Nick didn't drink out of his hand.
The killer might have taken the bottle and the glass...
don't ask me why.
But maybe, just maybe they can be traced.
Up all night beating our brains out, and we haven't got a thing.
Well, Inspector, maybe we got something.
I dropped by records while I was waiting for the lab report,
and Nick Kingston was arrested six times between 1920 and 1932.
- For bootlegging? - Right, Maestro.
Only Nick Kingston is an alias.
His real name is Harry Norman.
He changed it in '32,
when he went into partnership with a speakeasy owner
named Emile Morganstern,
who changed his name to Eddie Morgan.
And that's how Nick and Eddie's was born.
You don't happen to know if Nick had a family, do you?
I do. He didn't.
Sounds to me like Eddie Morgan just came into a nightclub.
♪ Give me five minutes more ♪
♪ Only five minutes more ♪
♪ Let me stay, let me stay in your arms ♪
Add a few strings, bass.
Who knows? Maybe you'll have a hit record.
Record?
I changed my mind.
I was talking with a guy down at Decca.
You're kidding.
[Chuckles]
Hey, baby, you think I want to spend the rest of my life
playing in joints like this?
Well, what about a little thing called a contract... remember?
Well, that contract isn't gonna stop us now that Nick's dead.
I'm sorry. We're closed.
Oh, excuse me. I'm looking for Eddie Morgan.
- Oh, I think he said he was... - Hold it, Nancy.
Why the interest, friend?
My name is Ellery Queen.
My father's in charge of the murder investigation.
Oh, well, let me be the first
to wish him all the bad luck in the world.
Johnny.
I'm not gonna miss Nick.
I don't care who killed him.
Johnny, wait a minute.
Excuse us, Mr. Queen.
We have some things we have to do.
Well, I still have to talk to Eddie Morgan.
Could you tell me where he is?
He said he was going to meet somebody at a radio studio.
- Does that help? - That tells me where he is.
Pete? Hey, Pete.
Take a break. We'll work later.
And this is the complete list of all your employees?
Well, plus a few we let go or had quit on us recently.
Flora Schumann... German?
Yeah, I guess so.
Hi, Simon.
Ah, Queen, what a pleasant surprise.
I hate to barge in.
You know Mr. Morgan, of course.
- Hi. - Hi.
Mr. Morgan, I would like to speak to you, if I may, for just a moment.
Sure, fire away, but make it quick, will you?
I'm due at my lawyer's at noon.
Oh, I guess that has to do
with your taking sole ownership of the club?
As a matter of fact, it does.
Nick and I had a full partnership agreement.
One partner dies, the other takes all?
Right.
I know that makes me a good suspect,
especially after the fights Nick and I had been having
about selling the club.
- Fights? - Well, yelling matches.
We had a pretty good offer for the place. I was ready to sell.
Nick didn't want it, so we went round and round.
I even offered to sell him my half.
I didn't want any part of the business.
Oh. Now you got it all.
Very ironic.
- Mr. Morgan, I'd like to ask... - Save your breath, Queen.
I've already asked the obvious question.
Mr. Morgan followed his usual routine.
I went up to my office
to go over the questions for my radio show,
just like I do every night.
And then he was on the air with me.
You were a witness to that.
Huh?
Oh, yeah, that's right.
Well, I'm afraid I've really got to go. I'll see you later.
- Surely. - Thank you.
- Excuse me. - Yes, sir.
Simon, I suppose you heard
there was no poison found in the broken bottle.
Nonetheless, I believe the bottle in Nick's hand is a vital clue.
Oh?
Consider, for a moment...
why would Nick hold on to that particular bottle,
a cheap German table wine?
There were many bottles there,
yet knowing that he was poisoned and locked in the wine cellar,
knowing he was about to die, Nick grabbed for that bottle.
- A dying clue? - Obviously.
The only pencil was broken. He couldn't write his killer's name.
But he believed that that bottle
would lead us to discover the killer's identity.
[Sighs] I wish I knew how.
Simon, do you suppose the label on the wine bottle
had anything to do with Nick's ring?
What?
Well, you know, the insignia on Nick's ring
was identical to the emblem on the wine label.
Oh, of course. I was about to explore that.
The ring was an heirloom, something like that?
Well, he wore it all the time like a good-luck charm.
And the design is identical?
Yeah. Uh-huh.
What do you suppose it means?
Nothing, absolutely nothing, just a remarkable coincidence.
- Uh, Flora Schumann? - Ja?
Allow me to introduce myself... Simon Brimmer.
Uh, perhaps you've heard my popular network radio show.
I do not recall, sir.
No matter.
It's come to my attention
that your previous employment was in Milwaukee?
Yeah, Milwaukee.
As a bookkeeper in a brewery.
Isn't it quite a comedown to ladies' room attendant?
The work is not so hard, the hours not so long.
I'm not so young.
Ah. So, you were not dismissed under a cloud from your last job?
Certainly not.
Mr. Stockhauser gave me a very fine letter of reference.
If you wish me to show it to you...
No, that won't be necessary.
There is something you can do for me, though, if you will, please.
Tell me everything you can about this bottle.
[Gasps]
No.
My dear lady, I only want you to translate the words from the label.
I'm sorry... Dutch.
I'm Dutch. I'm not German.
Well, I... I just assumed. Your name is Schumann.
But I'm Dutch. Everybody makes the same mistake.
I'm sorry. I don't speak German, sir. Excuse me.
I wonder if Nick is trying to tell us something about his killer.
What, a dying clue?
Well, the way he was holding that bottle.
We know it wasn't the wine that killed him.
Maybe he was trying to tell us it was a wine just like it.
No, what good would that do? Nobody liked that wine except Nick.
Hmm.
No, that bottle has another significance.
I want to check out everybody connected with this case
for a possible link with that German vineyard.
Ellery, I think you're onto something. That's good thinking.
Well, actually it wasn't my idea. It was Simon Brimmer's.
Brimmer? Ohh.
You see where Jackie Robinson got 2 for 4 yesterday.
[Doorbell rings]
- Who could that be? - I'll get it.
If it's one of your girlfriends, take her into the kitchen.
I don't feel sociable.
- Yes? - I wish to see Inspector Queen.
- My name is... - The Amazing Armitage.
Extraordinary, young man. You possess a psychic gift.
No, I saw your picture at Nick and Eddie's.
- Oh. - Come on in, please.
- Dad? - I thought I told you that I didn't...
My humblest apologies, Inspector Queen.
I know I am imposing,
but my conscience would not permit me
to remain away one moment longer.
- Conscience? - Quite right.
I have come here
to help you identify the murderer of Nicholas Kingston.
You say you know who killed Nick Kingston?
I said no such thing.
But I have experienced certain images today,
strong and persistent.
- Mr. Armitage is a mentalist. - A what?
A mentalist.
I have the power to see into men's minds.
That's very interesting,
because I have the power to run characters like you in
on charges of fraud and bunco.
Dad, he's a very well-known man.
That is all right, Mr. Queen.
I have been dealing with skeptics all my life.
As you know, I offer $5,000 reward to anyone who can prove
I use confederates in my performance.
And you are quite right, Inspector Queen.
I do have a specific suspect in mind.
Well, now, wait a minute. I never said a word about...
You do not have to say anything.
At the moment, you are worried about wine.
Hmm.
A bottle of wine.
I see...
...a bird.
Yes, a big black bird.
It is an eagle, perhaps... no.
No, it is a falcon.
That's right, a big black falcon.
Where did you see it, in the newspaper?
Nick Kingston's murder was on the front page all day long.
All right, Inspector Queen, I will come directly to the point.
If you wish to discover the murder of Nick Kingston,
I suggest you talk to Johnny Randall.
- The piano player? - Mm.
We share the same dressing room...
the fault of my agent for not insisting upon a private room.
Well, what about him?
Well, I see the expression on his face whenever Nick is nearby.
Oh, if looks could kill, as they say.
He wasn't killed with looks. He was poisoned.
I know.
I also surprised Johnny sniffing around the wine-cellar door,
and then he is also secretive.
Secretive about what?
What am I, a mind reader?
[Chuckles]
I understand the people at the club weren't particularly fond of Nick.
Well, Johnny did not seem to like him,
but I had no quarrel with him.
We got along famously.
Now, gentlemen, if you would please excuse me.
I have my performance to give.
Personally, of course, I think the club
should have been closed tonight out of respect,
but Eddie is in charge now.
Well, thank you very much, Mr. Armitage. We'll check on it.
I'm glad to have been of assistance.
- Farewell. - So long.
Phony as a three-dollar bill. Who did you say he was?
I told you, Dad... The Amazing Armitage.
Well, he wasn't born with the name "The Amazing Armitage."
I want a check on him.
Lots of nickels last night... big tippers.
[Telephone rings]
Hello?
Yeah, just a sec.
- Flora? - Yeah?
Telephone.
Telephone for me? My goodness.
Hello.
Guten abend, Frau Schumann.
Ja. Ich bin Flora Schumann.
Wie geht es ihnen, Flora?
Danke, gut. Who is this, please?
Interesting, Frau Schumann,
how this afternoon you were unable to speak any German,
yet here we are having ourselves a fine talk.
Flora?
Hello?
Flora?
Am I right?
[Applause]
You, sir.
- Me? - Yes.
I have the impression of the letter "H."
Yes, it's... it's not Hugo. It's not Herbie.
- Howard... it's Howard. - You're right!
Now, the second initial is "D."
Let me see. Let me concentrate. It's...
Dillman! Howard Dillman!
- You're right! - Aha!
Good evening, Howard.
What's new, Dad?
Mr. Mystery just scared off a suspect.
I have established a definite connection between Flora Schumann
and the bottle of wine Nick Kingston left as a clue.
What connection?
They are both unquestionably German.
Tell him about the other connection.
The wine evaporated, and so did Flora.
This is all Flora left in her closet... an apron.
May I?
Well, that's it. Flora Schumann's gone, and we don't know why.
Wait, Dad, there's something here in the pocket.
A page from a magazine, a photo.
Nick and Eddie.
And the Black Falcon.
Now, that is a connection.
That is a connection.
Dad, I've got another one.
Oh?
Mr. Randall, may we come in?
What do you want?
I'm Inspector Queen, and this is my son.
- We've met. - Hi.
I'd like to ask you a couple of questions.
Well, can it wait? I'm on in 10 minutes.
I'm afraid not.
Were you stationed in Germany after the war?
Sure, me and a few thousand other guys.
If you're looking for tie-ins with Germany, what about Armitage?
Well, what about him? He was born in Pittsburgh, his names is Jones,
and his accent is as phony as his fact.
John, have you ever been to Augsburg?
- Where? - Augsburg, in the Rhine Valley.
Your old commanding officer said you were familiar with the area.
I had a talk with him a while ago. He's a nice guy.
He said you used to hang around the vineyards
talking with the old-timers and asked a lot of questions.
Is there some law against that?
Sure, I've been to Augsburg. I've been to a lot of places.
What do you know about the Black Falcon?
I never heard of it.
Look... can you catch me a little later?
I got to get ready, huh?
This is my last show. I want to make it a good one.
Oh? Going somewhere?
Somewhere away from here, yes.
[Knocking on door]
Come in.
Ellery. Inspector.
- Evening. - Evening.
You here to settle matters with Mr. Randall?
What do you mean?
Well, strange you're letting him go.
I thought I heard him mention a contract.
Oh, I never stand in anybody's way, Ellery.
Since Johnny and Nancy
are on the verge of signing a recording contract,
they have my blessing.
Besides, I'm selling the club.
That was kind of sudden, wasn't it?
Well, I've wanted out for a long time, Inspector.
It's no fun anymore, and it won't be the same without Nick.
The offer, you said, was pretty good?
Well, so maybe it was a little better than that.
Let's just say that it looks better all the time.
Johnny, I just wanted to wish you the best.
Hey, thanks, Eddie. I appreciate that. I'm grateful for everything.
[Telephone rings]
Hello?
Inspector Queen? Yeah, right here.
Yeah?
Yeah, Velie?
That's good work. We'll be down there in 20 minutes.
They just picked up Flora Schumann at the West Side Terminal
trying to buy a one-way ticket out of town.
Do you have an explanation of your whereabouts
at the time Nick was killed?
Nein.
Mrs. Schumann, there is strong evidence
pointing in your direction regarding this murder.
Dad, may I?
Yeah, sure, anything.
Guten abend, Fraulein Schumann.
Good evening, sir. I speak English.
We've been in touch with the Bureau of Immigration,
and they have no record
of a Flora Schumann entering this country,
at least not a Flora Schumann your age.
What is your real name, Flora?
Please.
My name is Gretchen, Gretchen Schiller.
- Schiller? - Yeah.
Why did you change it, Gretchen?
Because I did not want Mr. Kingston to recognize me.
Recognize you how?
Inspector, I've found something.
The Black Falcon came from the Schiller vineyard
in the Rhine Valley.
Ah, I see you've caught up with Frau Schumann. Good work.
Simon, this is Gretchen Schiller.
So, even the name was phony.
Sit down and be quiet, Brimmer.
Go ahead, Madam.
Before the war... the first World War...
I lived with my husband and babies in Augsburg.
Where the wine came from.
Quiet.
One day comes a man from America with much money,
and he wishes to buy all of our wine.
Nick Kingston.
Yeah, he called himself Harry Norman.
We became good friends.
Please. Please go on.
Then the war breaks out. My husband must go and fight.
But we were frightened, frightened for our children.
So we ask our friend from America for a great favor.
We give him all of our wine, all of our money.
What on earth for?
To take our children to America, where they'll be safe from the war,
a son and a daughter.
He would take care of them,
and then he would bring them back, when the war ended, to us.
But...
We give him the babies. He takes them.
He takes our money, our wine, everything.
And we never heard from him again.
Then my husband died in the war, we lost our vineyards,
and I was without money.
So, I started to work,
and I cleaned houses to save money to come to this country.
But then in 1939, another war is beginning,
and now I have the money, so I... I come to this country.
And I search.
I search everywhere, but nothing,
until one day, when I'm looking through a magazine,
I see a photograph.
This one?
Ja, ja, the bottle of Der Schwarze Falke
from our vineyard.
But it was so long ago.
So, you took a job at Nick and Eddie's
until you were sure Nick was Harry Norman,
and then you killed him for taking your children away from you.
Nein, nein. Bitte.
Nein, you must understand.
I did not want him dead.
I want him alive so I could find out what happened to my children.
But it was over 30 years ago.
I was not sure it was the same man, not until I saw the ring.
Nick's ring?
Ja. It belonged to my husband. I gave it to him myself.
It was among the things Harry Norman got
to bring our children to safety.
And where were you when Kingston was killed?
I was in his office, searching through his letters and records
to find one thread of the truth.
Then why were you trying to run away?
Because you frightened me, sir.
I?
Ja, first when you showed me the bottle
and then when you called me.
You have no idea what it is being accused by police in Germany.
Also, with Mr. Kingston dead,
my only chance ever to see my children again was lost.
And... it all seemed so hopeless.
[Sighs] Yes, yes, dear lady, dry your eyes.
Nein, danke schön. Ich habe schon.
Queen.
The dying clue... at last we have some idea what it means.
Oh, Simon, I can't believe that poor lady.
No, not her.
Think, Queen... 1914, two small children taken from their home.
I should say that today they'd be in their early to mid 30s.
Yes.
Yes, of course.
I shan't trouble you anymore, Inspector.
Thanks for your hospitality.
You were so anxious to hear this woman's story, Brimmer.
Why not stay for the rest of it?
Oh, I've heard quite enough.
Gentlemen, I think the clue to this case
will be found on a certain birth certificate.
Dad, I'm puzzled.
Doesn't take a detective to know that.
Would you pass me the strawberry jam, please?
Simon Brimmer thinks he can wrap up this case
with a birth certificate.
Please, not while I'm eating.
Obviously Brimmer knows something we don't.
You don't want me to enjoy myself, do you?
Something that hasn't turned up from the police investigation.
Unless you've got something you haven't told me.
I got something... heartburn.
You know, Dad, I really got to give Brimmer an awful lot of credit.
I don't want to give him even the time of day.
All I want to do is have my breakfast, drink my coffee.
I don't even want to hear the so-and-so's name.
So-and-so?
Would you hand me the sugar, please?
Mm.
That's cream. I asked for the sugar.
Sugar? There isn't any sugar.
You had some on your cereal.
Yeah, I guess I did.
So, where's the sugar bowl?
I must have put it in the refrigerator.
That's a sink.
That's a refrigerator.
Why does everything in this house end up in the refrigerator...
mittens, manuscripts?
I've told you time and time again...
a place for everything, and everything in its place.
- Dad, I just remember. - Where the sugar is.
- You're absolutely right. - I am?
There is a place for everything. Let's go.
Go? I want to have my coffee. Where are we going?
Come on.
Alexander, I remember you said you broke your arm
rearranging this wine.
That's right. Why?
- Why? - Yeah.
I fell off a ladder.
No, I mean why were you rearranging it?
Well, there just wasn't enough room anymore.
We added a lot of new wines to our wine list.
I see.
This is very important...
did Nick Kingston know how you re-arranged the wine bottles?
I never had a chance to tell him.
I broke my arm in the midst of doing it.
Is this where he grabbed the Black Falcon?
- Exactly. - Uh-huh.
And where was the Black Falcon wine
before you re-arranged the racks?
Right here, one rack over.
What was here before you put the Black Falcon in its place?
This wine, another ordinary white table wine
made in upstate New York.
May I see that?
Morningstar wine.
Oh. Dad?
Yeah?
Simon Brimmer's right... the answer has to do with the birth certificate.
Why didn't I think of it before?
- Well? - Well, what?
Well, who?
Well, I'm going down to the hall of records
and check out that birth certificate and see if I'm right.
- Then let's go. - All right.
I'll... I'll be with you in just a minute.
Well, I think I know what happened. Do you?
This bottle of Morningstar wine
not being where Nick Kingston thought it was
should give you the solution.
You know who the killer is now?
Was it John Randall, Eddie Morgan, Nancy McGuire,
The Amazing Armitage, Alexander the wine steward,
or... or somebody else?
Let's find out.
Auf wiedersehen.
Ladies and gentlemen,
I've asked you here to share a startling revelation.
Here, a birth certificate.
Here, records from a St. Agatha's Orphanage
in Boston, Massachusetts,
records dated 1914,
the same year an unidentified man
brought two small children to the orphanage,
claiming to have found them abandoned on a Boston street.
1914... the same year Gretchen Schiller
gave her two children to her American friend for safekeeping,
never to be heard from again.
Within a week, the infant girl is dead of fever.
Her brother is adopted by a Boston family
who gives him the name John Randall.
Yes.
- Yes, that's true. - John...
Son, would you like to tell us about it?
Well, when I turned 18, my parents, the Randalls...
they told me that I was adopted.
Nobody knew anything about my real family, so I...
I decided to find out for myself.
Go on.
My sister and I were brought to the orphanage,
wrapped in some blankets with an embroidered crest...
my family crest, as it turned out...
the black falcon.
I'm sorry I lied, but I was scared, Mr. Queen.
You were right... I was stationed in Germany during the war.
While I was there, I managed to...
to connect the emblem to the Schiller family near Augsburg.
That's where I learned about my mother.
I came back to try to find her.
But, John, you found Nick Kingston,
through a picture in a magazine, no doubt,
and had your agent book you into this club.
You waited for your opportunity and lured Nick to the wine cellar.
No.
Mr. Brimmer, please. Johnny would never kill anyone.
Queen, I notice you, too, have a manila envelope.
Would there be a birth certificate inside?
Yes.
There you are, Randall.
Ellery Queen has reached the same conclusion...
a little late, perhaps.
Not exactly, Simon. He's right. He didn't kill Nick.
Yes, I do have a birth certificate, but it's not John Randall's.
What?
I have the birth certificate of one Emile Morganstern.
Who?
Which brings me to my second certificate,
from a court-approved hearing
where Emile Morganstern changed his name to Eddie Morgan.
So, I changed my name. Lots of people change their names.
Well, did Nick know your real name?
Well, sure he did. So what? That doesn't make me a killer.
I was in my office.
Morgan, we have a witness
who was alone in the office at the time of the murder.
What witness?
You're bluffing.
You haven't got a thing.
Well, that's where my theory comes in.
Now, Eddie, I want you to correct me if I'm wrong.
You and Nick fought over the sale of the restaurant.
I told you that myself.
If the sale went through, you stood to make an awful lot of money.
You pretended to back down.
You probably suggested celebrating the end of hostilities
with a special bottle of wine that Nick had saved for the occasion.
Let me as you something, Alexander...
was there such a bottle?
Yes, the, uh, '28 Bordeaux.
- It's gone. - Mm-hmm.
So what?
I didn't know anything about it.
Well, Nick thought of himself as a wine connoisseur
and probably insisted upon tasting that wine,
not realizing that you had poisoned it.
You left him here, dying.
You locked him in, took the poisoned wine with you,
and went upstairs to do your radio broadcast.
- Like you said, it's all theory. - Mm-hmm.
So, Nick is here, and he's dying, and he wants to write down
the name of the person who poisoned him.
The pencil is broken.
Or he breaks it.
But he desperately wants to leave us a clue.
So, he reaches up and grabs a bottle of wine from the rack.
Right. He grabs the Black Falcon.
Wrong. He grabbed the Black Falcon
because Alexander had just put it there the day before,
but Nick didn't know that.
That's correct.
What he was reaching for was a bottle of Morningstar wine.
That would have been where the Black Falcon was.
Nick didn't know the wines had been moved.
Mm-hmm.
And Morningstar in German is...
Morgenstern. I mean, even I know that.
Right... Emile Morganstern.
Nick was trying to tell us it was you, Eddie,
and by sheer coincidence, he pointed the finger at John.
Yeah, we could have been rich, retired, with no responsibilities.
But he wouldn't change his mind. He had to have his way.
He was too stubborn to live.
That's a matter of opinion.
- Velie? - Yes, sir?
Book him... murder one.
Very good, Mr. Queen.
Are you kidding?
He's terrific.
Imagine what he could do with my talent.
Well, Queen, now I suppose it's my turn
to congratulate you on your deductions.
Well...
No, no, no, this is no time for humility.
You did an outstanding job.
I, too, should have recognized that the wine was rearranged.
Well, Simon, you did solve the case of the missing son.
Yes, I did, didn't I?
Which reminds me... shouldn't someone tell the boy
that all these months he's been working in the same club
with his mother and didn't know it?
I think my dad's taking care of that right now.
My son.
Oh, that's really lovely.
There is nothing so sacred as true sentiment,
shared intimately by those who have sacrificed so much.
Hmm?
I'm sure they'd love to tell the world about it
on my radio show tomorrow night.
Simon, you could always ask.
Oh, I will, Queen. I will.