In a few minutes, this famous cartoonist will be dead.
Who killed him?
Was it the ambitious lettering man?
You're trying to pin this on me.
The layout expert?
Now, that is bad news.
The background artist?
Don't go too far, eh, Bud?
The figure specialist?
What are you trying to pull?
His disillusioned secretary?
I used to believe everything he told me.
Or was it someone else?
Now, somebody's gonna have to stop you, Armstrong,
and if it has to be me, it will be!
Match wits with Ellery Queen
and see if you can guess who done it.
Well, that's it. What do you think?
What do I think?
I think it's terrible. I think it's rotten.
The whole idea of me in a comic book is ridiculous.
It doesn't even look like me.
I know.
You know? Well, how do you explain that, Mr. Armstrong?
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not Mr. Armstrong. I'm Kenny Freeman.
But you write this stuff, don't you?
No, I only print it in the balloons.
You see, I'm the letterer.
I get the scripts after he's finished with them.
- Are you responsible for these? - To a minor extent.
- Are you Armstrong? - Unh-unh... Lyle Shannon.
But you drew these.
I added the shading and color indications.
The drawing stops with the gentlemen in front.
Armstrong?
Porter.
Backgrounds.
Best in the business.
Every panel is a word of art,
except for these phony-Iooking stick figures
that are cluttering up my backgrounds.
Who draws them?
Oh, that's the guy in front of me.
- Yeah? What do you want? - I'm Ellery Queen.
You can't be Ellery Queen. Your chin's all wrong.
That's Ellery Queen.
Look at those piercing eyes, the slightly broken nose,
the high cheekbones, the jutting chin with just a trace of a dimple.
There's a face with character.
Yeah, but it doesn't look like me.
Does Mickey Mouse look like a mouse?
It's a cartoon. It could be anybody.
That's quite a collection.
This loaded?
In this den of thieves?
That would be much too tempting.
[Empty click]
That's Bud Armstrong.
The genius who dreamed up the comic-strip adventures
of Captain Cosmo, Future Man, Lola the Jungle Princess...
ELLERY: And Ellery Queen.
Panel seven... Captain Cosmo zaps the Venutian monster
with a super ray gun... zap.
He doesn't see the bat-like flying robots
swooping down in the supine form of lovely Linda Gordon
to catch her flimsy garments in its steel talons.
Future Man, panel 9...
the strong man of the 41st century grapples with the giant bulldozer
on the crumbling edge of the fiery volcano...
smash, bam, crunch.
[Snaps fingers]
Lola the Jungle Princess, panel six...
the savage white hunter appears through the palm fronds
with lust-crazed eyes at the perfect form of Lola,
as she bathes her poisoned-spear wounds
at the edge of the jungle stream.
Who is this?
I don't know, sir. He just walked in.
Well, tell him to walk out.
Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Armstrong is creating right now and...
I'm Ellery Queen!
What about it?
Just the fact that I did not authorize
the use of my name or likeness for any comic book!
Mr. Queen, you obviously haven't read the small print in the contract
that you signed with your new publisher.
Small print in the contract?
Same company owns Capricorn Comics.
Your signature gave them the right to make you a big comic-book hero,
whether you like it or not.
Miss Van Dine, would you kindly show this gentleman out?
- Excuse me... - Well, I don't like it.
I don't like the whole idea
of being associated with wham, pow, and zap.
It just isn't me.
Well, you write whodunits. What's the difference?
Oh, no! I write mystery novels!
That's different than this stuff!
Mr. Queen, you don't understand the market.
Our readers are children, millions of bloodthirsty little kids,
and we give them what they want.
Oh, yeah, yeah. Ray guns and knives and fistfights... that's violence.
No, that's action.
Now, you get out of here
and don't try and tell me how to run my business.
You are not gonna use me to grab dimes from little children!
Now, somebody's gonna have to stop you, Armstrong,
and if it has to be me, it will be!
- Is that a threat? - Well, consider it fair warning.
But if you go ahead with this, I'll find a way to kill it!
[Muttering angrily]
ANNOUNCER: Top of the seventh, Dodgers 3, Cardinals 2.
The Cardinals at bat.
Nobody out, nobody on. Stan "The Man" Musial up.
Stan was the winner of last year's Most Valuable Player Award.
Walk him! Walk him!
It's no use, Dad. I just can't work tonight.
I can listen in the kitchen.
Here' the pitch.
Ball one, high and outside.
No, it's not the radio. It's that comic book...
I just can't get it out of my mind.
Ball two.
They're gonna walk him.
What did you say, Ellery?
Bud Armstrong thinks the cartoon Ellery is real
and I'm some kind of a troublemaker
who happens to have the same name.
Maybe if you talk to a good lawyer or something.
High fly ball, deep to right field.
Furillo back to the track. He' at the wall.
It's no use. I can't work during the day
because they're drilling up the street with a jackhammer.
And I can't work now because of zam, pow, whap!
Maybe I'll go for a walk. Yeah.
130 runs batted in last year.
Bums.
Bums... that's what I've got working for me.
Look at this garbage!
Collins, what is this with the slitty eyes,
the rubbery lips, huh?
I was just trying to get a little style into the drawing.
Oh, is that what you call it?
I got a 4-year-old nephew that can draw faces better than that.
Then maybe you better put him on the staff.
I would, but his mother wouldn't allow him to work
with a bunch of second-rate hacks... especially you, Vinnie.
Don't go too far, eh, Bud?
Would you like to see the complaints I got
after the last issue of Future Man, about palm trees in South Dakota?
You wrote palm trees. I drew palm trees.
Right. I remember that, Bud.
I wondered why you wanted palm trees.
Well, I'm surprised you didn't cover them with benday shadows
in your usual heavy-handed way.
You should have realized that I meant elms.
Cut it, Bud.
We're sick of taking the rap for your mistakes.
Well, how about you, Kenny? Aren't you part of this insurrection?
If you have any complaints about my lettering, say so.
You can count on it.
Now, don't you forget that it's my name
that goes on these comic strips, not yours.
We're only too painfully aware of it.
How does it feel, feeding off the talents of others, Bud?
You promised us raises that never materialized.
And credit.
Yes, it... it really isn't fair, Mr. Armstrong.
Then why don't you quit? Why don't you all quit?
You know we can't because of our contracts,
unless you let us out.
Which I'm not about to do.
And if you try and strike,
I'll see to it that none of you ever work in this town again.
Now, is that what you want?
All right.
Tomorrow I want you all in here an hour earlier,
and try and clean up some of this sloppy work.
That's all.
- L... - Whatever it is, it can wait.
Yeah.
Excuse me. May I leave now?
Well, let's talk about it, huh?
My boyfriend's waiting for me.
Well, that's just too bad.
We'll have to let him wait, won't we, Alma?
Now... No, now... now, you let go of me!
Let go of me and open that door, or I'm gonna scream!
You know what you are? You're an ingrate.
Maybe I should set your boyfriend straight about a few things.
- Now, Mr. Ar... - I thought I told you to go.
If you've got a minute, you see, l...
- All right, make it fast. - Well, I...
Well, I just wondered if...
if you had a chance to glance at my comic strip.
What comic strip is that?
The Swamp Critters.
You said if I left a sample, you would evaluate it
for a possible inclusion in a new comic book.
Yeah, I looked at it.
Well, what do you think?
I think it's the most dull-witted,
badly drawn comic strip I've ever seen.
The only thing I liked about it was the lettering.
Well, I'm trying to break away from lettering.
Oh, well, that's a big mistake, Kenny.
You should stick to what you do best.
As a cartoonist, you're strictly no-talent.
Hey, you forgot something.
[Sighs]
That you, Alma?
You decided to come back, huh?
[Cocks gun]
[Gunshot]
- Ellery. - Dad.
- Hi, Maestro. - Hi, Velie.
What are you doing this side of town?
Oh, just taking a walk in the park... thought I'd clear my head. What's up?
Hop in. We've got a homicide on the other side of the park.
No, I think I'll just head for home.
Better get in, son. You were acquainted with the victim.
- Was he a friend of mine? - Not exactly.
Like I said, I heard the shots, and it scared me into palpitations,
I don't mind telling you.
Why'd you come in here?
Well, I knew Mr. Armstrong was the only one in the building
that took any enjoyment out of working late like this.
Did you see anyone running out?
I did not.
Did you see a gun anyplace?
No, I didn't see no gun.
All I seen was Mr. Armstrong facedown on his desk,
like he is now.
Dad, I noticed he had a pencil clutched in his right hand.
Did he get a chance to use it?
Yeah.
Left us a clue to the killer's identity.
Ellery, the clue points to you.
I know.
Logically, that makes me the killer.
What do you mean, I can't have a prowl car?
I don't care if the city is in the middle of a crime wave.
Every night I explore the sordid byways of Gotham for my column.
It's a Flannigan tradition.
[Knocking]
Come in.
Who said what?
Listen, punk... if you can't get me a cop car,
I'll take it up with the mayor!
Hiya, Mr. Flannigan.
Moe, what do you want?
I got something for you. It's worth a sawbuck.
A fin, maybe.
Oh, it's an easy fin. Wait till you hear.
My wife, Nellie, scrubs the floors in the building
where Capricorn Comics has its offices.
So what?
Bud Armstrong... the big cartoonist...
he got knocked off a little while ago.
- Now, ain't that worth a fin? - No.
That's worth a sawbuck.
- Any luck, Velie? - No, sir.
We've looked all over... still can't find the gun.
Keep looking.
- Inspector Queen? - Yeah?
I'm Alma Van Dine, Mr. Armstrong's secretary.
This policeman was waiting for me when I got home.
Where were you tonight?
Well, I was, uh...
I was watching television with my boyfriend... Milton Berle.
You don't think I had anything to do with this, do you?
Now, take it easy, Miss Van Dine. Just sit down.
I... I just... I can't believe it.
I... I just can't believe he's dead.
I'm sorry.
He was such a... such a...
Wonderful person?
Louse.
Why, just tonight he had this awful fight
with his cartoonists.
I mean, he was just terrible. He treated them so rotten.
Velie, get names and addresses.
- Hi, Inspector. - Who's the doll?
Flannigan, how'd you get wind of this?
Murder will out, Inspector. Murder will out.
Does it have to out
when I'm trying to launch an investigation?
Are you Frank Flannigan, the columnist?
That's right, sweetheart,
and if you were Armstrong's secretary,
I'd like a page-1 photo.
Stand up and take a deep breath.
Now, cut it out, Flannigan. I'm trying to get some answers.
Now, did anyone else fight with Armstrong recently
besides his staff?
Yeah. This afternoon, a guy came in to see him,
and he was really angry.
- He threatened Mr. Armstrong. - Threatened him?
Yeah, he said he'd stop him from publishing that new comic book
if he had to kill.
It was awful.
Who was he? What did he look like?
Dad, I just found this drawing in...
That's him!
- Morning, Inspector. - Oh, no.
Had a chance to read the paper yet?
I don't read that paper. I wrap fish in it.
Well, that's too bad.
You didn't get a chance to read my column on page 1.
Your column is full of baloney.
Nobody in his right mind could possibly believe
that Ellery would knock off that cartoonist.
- Even you don't believe it. - News is news.
Come on, Inspector... give me the lowdown.
Wasn't your lad secretly ticked
when that comic-strip artist comic-stripped him of his dignity?
I've got better ways of wasting my time.
Aren't you gonna investigate the charges?
If he wasn't your son, wouldn't he already be locked up in jail?
Out!
Deputy Commissioner Hayes, just in time.
What's going on here?
You're about to see a member of the fourth estate
given a bum's rush by a police inspector
who has no respect for freedom of the press.
Out!
Deputy Commissioner, how are the ponies running for you?
Did you get a chance to play that tip I gave you
on Sugar Daddy in the fourth?
We'll discuss it later.
Inspector, what's all this about a cover-up?
The Commissioner wants to know.
You tell the Commissioner not to believe everything he reads
in the bottom of a birdcage.
Now, my son is definitely not a suspect in any murder case.
- What about the evidence? - In spite of the evidence.
- And the witness? - In spite of the witness.
Now, I know Ellery didn't kill Armstrong.
Even so, public opinion must be considered.
Public opinion can go fly a kite.
Now, I'll resign from the force before I'll arrest my son for murder.
Now, you can tell the the Commissioner that.
As far as you're concerned, out!
- Good morning. - Hiya, Junior.
Ellery, what are you doing here?
Well, I thought I'd come down and see if you found the murder weapon.
No, not yet. Those your pajamas?
It's my pajamas... my toothbrush, too.
A toothbrush?
Sure, don't you get it? He's turning himself in.
He's asking to be locked up.
You read that piece in the paper,
and you're trying to get me off the hook.
Maybe he's here to plead guilty.
"Cop's Kid Cops Plea"... that's good for an extra.
Freedom of the press goes just so far.
Now, there's a pay phone out in the hall.
Spend a nickel.
Vera, listen to this...
"Flannigan description of a home wrecker...
a gal with a 'split-ilating' personality."
Hey, that's great, F.F.
A messenger left this package at the front desk.
Well, don't give it to me! Call the bomb squad!
Nah, I think it's okay. At least it's not ticking.
- You open it. - Okay.
A book?
Somehow I don't think that's an autographed copy.
Who sent this?
Well, the receptionist said it wasn't the regular message service,
so there's no way to find out.
"Chapter 1."
F.F.
When was the last time you read a book?
When the guy who ghosted my autobiography sent me a copy.
I couldn't get through it.
You know, I've got a Flannigan hunch that there's something in here
that's gonna singe my eyebrows.
Incredible!
- Everything all right in there? - What?
Oh, I thought I heard you say something.
I'm just reading the latest episode of Captain Cosmo.
Three weird scientists predict that a space commander
is gonna be emperor of the universe.
Oh, you like that, huh?
Well, I liked it better when it was Macbeth.
Is there anything I can get you?
No, no, Harry, but thanks, anyway.
Yeah, sure.
ELLERY: Oh, wow.
Vera!
I want you to take this list to a hardware store
to get every single thing that's on it.
What's it for?
A red-hot story, beautiful... scoop-errific.
[Telephone rings]
Gazette, Frank Flannigan's office.
Hold on. I'll see if I can find him.
Moe Fletcher... he says he has another tip for you.
Give me.
Flannigan here. Shoot.
Flannigan, I think maybe this is worth a double sawbuck.
What do you got?
Now, last night, my wife, Nellie, couldn't finish her floor,
so she had to come to work today.
Flannigan's heart bleeds.
She just passed the word...
they're all there in the comic-book office.
Who's all there?
All the suspects in the Armstrong murder case,
except the one that's in the clink.
They're having some kind of a secret meeting.
No, wait, Kenny.
Look... all I'm trying to say is
that it's a way of keeping the unit together.
Now, who says we want to stay together?
- I got other fish to fry, Kenny. - I'm returning to serious painting.
Oh, come on, you guys. I think we ought to at least listen to him.
So he went over Bud Armstrong's head
and submitted Swamp Critters to the publisher.
So what? It's a one-shot deal... that's all.
Now, you're wrong, Phil.
There's growing pressure in Washington
against sex and crime in comic books.
Now, the publishers bought the idea of cute, lovable, cuddly critters
for a monthly magazine.
- Monthly? - Gee, Kenny.
Congratulations. I had no idea.
Well, that's what I've been trying to tell you... I'll need all of you.
You've got to be out of your mind.
I'm gonna be working an idea for my own strip.
Now, now, l-I hate to bring this up,
but may I remind you that you all have contracts with your p-publisher?
Hey, now, look here!
Wait... what are you trying to pull now, huh?
Well, well, well, I see the gang's carrying on without Armstrong.
Flannigan's the name.
Now, this is a private meeting, Mr. Flannigan.
Yeah, all the suspects, minus one.
Yeah, the one who did it.
Where were you when Armstrong was shot, Collins?
- In a bar. - Yeah? What bar?
Bleeck's, where all the artists hang out.
Shannon?
Yeah, I was one of the artists he was hanging out with.
Vinnie Porter was there, too.
Yeah. The bartender knows us fairly well.
He can verify it.
And you, doll?
Oh, I was watching television with my boyfriend.
I told that to the police, too.
And where were you, Freeman,
when Bud Armstrong's life was snuffed out?
I was on the BMT subway. I live in Brooklyn.
- Were you alone? - On the subway?
When did you find out the publisher wanted your comic book...
before or after the murder?
Oh, after... today.
The murder sort of helped convince them.
Oh, yeah?
Well, as long as Junior's in the can, I guess you're in the clear.
Au revoir, kiddies.
Oh, uh, by the way,
did one of you send me a little package
by special messenger?
Gee, what was in it?
A bombshell, baby, and Flannigan's gonna set it off.
- Evening, Sergeant. - How's it going, Harry?
It's pretty quiet.
I'd like to see the new prisoner.
- Too bad about him... poor guy. - What do you mean?
Well, he's only been in here one day, and already he's gone stir crazy.
All he does is lay on his bunk and read comic books.
Oh.
- What do you got in your bag? - Oh, that's nothing, Harry.
That's just some stuff that Ellery asked me to pick up for him.
- Oh, no, you know regulations. - It's nothing. It's...
I hate to think what he's gonna be like in a week.
- Hey, Velie! - Hiya, Maestro.
How are you? How's Dad?
He's holding up, but I don't know how.
There's no word on the murder weapon yet.
The medical examiner's report is in.
Oh, yeah? What did it say?
One shot missed Armstrong's vital organs,
but the other two didn't.
Hmm.
- Is that for me? - Yeah.
Thank you.
You know, Maestro, I was thinking maybe next time
you'd really like some good books.
They say this new Mickey Spillane is supposed to be a dilly.
Oh, no, these are great. These are just great, great, great.
You know, Maestro, it makes my blood boil
to see you in here like this.
I ought to get a hold of that Flannigan guy
and knock his block off for causing all this trouble.
That's a nice thought, but it's not necessary.
I was right!
Velie, you think Dad's still in the office?
- Yeah, I think so. - Get him.
What is it, Ellery?
- Dad, I found the murder weapon. - Here in the cell?
No, here in this comic book... there.
"Blam"?
Dad, look at the pistol. It was drawn from the real thing.
At first I wasn't very sure, but now I'm positive.
- It's that.38 I saw in the prop box. - How about it, Velie?
I searched that box myself, Inspector. There wasn't any gun.
So, we're back to the killer taking it with him.
Yes, except he didn't bring it with him.
See, that prop gun wasn't loaded.
Now, either the killer walked in with a pocketful of ammunition,
hoping to find a gun, or...
- He knew where to look for it. - Right.
Well, well, well, Mr. Flannigan.
Oh, hello, Inspector.
About time you got here. I was about to give up on you.
Been waiting long... in the dark... with a flashlight?
Well, I noticed your front door was unlocked,
and I decided to check out the premises
in case a burglar got in here.
Oh, that's very thoughtful of you.
Just doing my duty as a law-abiding citizen.
As a what?
A law-abiding citizen.
Look... can I help it if you go off and leave your door open?
Flannigan, I can't tell you what a pleasure it's going to be
to toss you in a cell next to Ellery on a charge of breaking and entering.
Aw, now, look...
Breaking and entering... that's good for at least seven years.
You better hope the Sing Sing newspaper
needs a gossip columnist.
Oh, wait a minute, will you? Give me a chance to explain.
You can start by telling me what you're looking for.
Well, I haven't had a chance to look for anything yet.
But if I find what I think I'm gonna find,
things are gonna be very tough for Junior.
And if you don't find what you're looking for,
things are gonna be extremely tough for you.
So, why don't you cut the malarkey and tell me what you're up to?
I'm gonna do better than that.
I'm gonna reach for something, Inspector.
If it's not there, I lose.
If it is there... your son loses.
Your son loses.
Morning, Inspector. You're in awful early.
Correction... awful late.
I've been up all night
waiting for ballistics to run a check on this.38 special.
The report just came in... it's the murder weapon.
Hey, you found it. You tell the Maestro yet?
No, because if I do, I'll have to tell him where I found it...
in his study, at the bottom of his fish tank.
Somebody's trying to frame Ellery for murder.
- We got to put a stop to it. - You bet, Inspector.
Here's a list of the suspects.
Let's check those alibis again.
You came straight here after you left the office?
Well, no, not here.
I went to my boyfriend's apartment next door.
What's his name?
Ronnie Himes.
Uh, Ronald Himes.
The address?
Uh, next door, whatever next door is.
[Buzz]
Oh, excuse me.
Alma, I got to talk to you.
Ronnie, could you come back later? I've got company.
I got to talk now.
Mr. Himes?
Yeah? What about it?
Ronnie, this is Inspector Queen of the Homicide Bureau.
- No kidding. - Glad to meet you, Mr. Himes.
I understand you're a big Milton Berle fan.
I find him amusing, yes.
Did you find him amusing Tuesday night?
Oh, he was a riot Tuesday, wasn't he?
We found him very uproarious.
- "We"? - Alma and me.
She watched it on my set.
There was this marvelous dog act.
Did you find the dog act amusing, Mr. Himes?
I don't care much for animals dressed up as people.
You seem kind of nervous, Mr. Himes.
I'm not used to being questioned by the police.
I think I'd like a glass of water, please.
Oh, sure, Ronnie.
Look... I'm very busy right now.
I have to plan a whole new comic book.
You can see for yourself.
I can see that you're enjoying a streak of good luck.
Tell me... would you have the same opportunity
if Armstrong were alive?
Well, to be perfectly honest, I doubt it very much.
- Inspector? - Yeah, Velie?
Can I see you?
The bartender down at Bleeck's
swears that Porter, Shannon, and Collins came in about 7:00.
They didn't leave the joint
till it closed up at 2:00 in the morning.
And you checked the girl's story, so that just leaves him.
As I was saying, Mr. Freeman...
I heard what he said. I was on the subway.
Well, we checked the subway guards, cashiers, conductors.
None of them remember seeing you at all the night of the murder.
You're the only suspect whose alibi doesn't check out.
Am I? Where was your son?
We're not talking about my son.
Oh, yes, we are. I know what your aim is.
You're trying to pin this on me so you can save him.
Hey, now, look, buster, you...
It's all right, Velie. The man has a point.
Please accept my apology.
- Sure. - Inspector, he...
It's all right, Sergeant. Let the man go back to work.
Good luck, Mr. Freeman.
Thanks... I guess.
- He's a prime suspect. - Granted.
Problem is, we don't have any evidence.
Hiya, junior, I brought you some fruit.
Oh, thanks.
What are you doing here?
I'm not allowed any visitors in the lockup.
Flannigan has ways.
You know, this is the very cell where Willie "Mad Goose" Bombeck
gave an exclusive confession to this reporter
that he was a triggerman for the West Side Mob.
- He never testified in court. - Why not?
They let him out on bail,
and he drowned while he was taking a shower.
Yeah, these bars bring back sweet memories
of the golden age of crime reporting.
You know, Junior, it's Flannigan's opinion
that somebody planted that gun.
What gun?
- The one I found in your fish tank. - That sounds familiar.
You know, I think I read that somewhere.
You wrote it.
Oh, yeah, "The Adventures of the Purloined Gun."
Yowza.
You found a gun in my fish tank?
The missing gun in the Armstrong case.
Didn't your pop tell you about it?
What were you doing looking in my fish tank?
And anonymous fan sent me the book.
I took the hint.
And frankly, Junior, I think it stinks.
- My book? - No, the frame-up.
You're not the brightest guy in the world,
but you're brighter than that.
And what's more, Flannigan's gonna say so in his column
for the world to see.
- Maestro! - Velie.
The Inspector wants you in the office right away.
Oh, yeah? All right.
Hey, hold it. I got to go to the Inspector's office.
- He didn't say you were invited. - He didn't say I wasn't.
I've never been in trouble with the police.
My conscience won't let me sleep.
We understand.
It was Alma's idea.
I didn't want any part of it. I told her so.
I said, "Alma..."
"I don't want any part of it."
Those were my exact words.
But Alma's a very strong-minded girl.
She forced me to do it.
Do what, Mr. Himes?
Lie to the police.
She didn't watch "The Milton Berle Show" with me.
I watched it alone.
Alma didn't come till later, after it was over.
I told her about the dog act.
Here goes Alma's alibi.
And it was Alma that fingered Junior in the first place.
Sure, it's starting to add up.
Thank you very much, Mr. Himes.
Take him out. Get a signed statement.
- Send in the cab driver. - Yes, sir.
What cab driver?
While you were loafing at the taxpayers' expense,
we've been checking out leads.
Trying to find out who put the gun in my fish tank?
I see you've been busy, too, Flannigan.
Velie checked out the cab companies,
came up with a driver
who dropped off a fare at our house yesterday afternoon.
- Inspector Queen? - Yeah, thanks for coming in.
I want you to look at a picture.
Is this the person you rode in your cab yesterday afternoon?
- Yep, that's the one. - You sure?
Sure, I'm sure. How could you forget a face like that,
not to mention the things that go with it?
Thanks. You can go.
Yeah, Alma.
I'll tell Velie to pick her up.
On second thought, this is one arrest I want to make myself.
Banner headline...
"Ellery Queen Cleared, Secretary Nabbed."
Give me a nickel, Junior. I want to phone this in while it's still hot.
Here... this one's on the house.
[Knocking on door]
Just a sec!
Ohh.
[Clears throat]
Ah. Oh, I'm afraid I... I took a little long.
I'm sorry. I wasn't decent.
May we come in?
Well, the place really is a mess.
Come in.
I... I really wasn't expecting company.
This isn't a social call.
Miss Van Dine dropped a stocking. Will you pick it up, Velie?
Yes, sir.
Going on a little trip?
Well, yeah, sort of.
Your boyfriend told us, Alma.
Yeah, I was afraid of that.
So you started packing?
Well, only because I was afraid you wouldn't believe me
if I told you the real truth.
What is the real truth, Alma?
The real truth is that I didn't go straight to Ronnie's after work.
I remembered that the department stores were open late,
so I went shopping.
- Straight from the office? - Yeah.
See? I told you you wouldn't believe me.
Do you know Mrs. Fletcher, a scrub woman?
Oh, that old witch.
What's she been telling you about me?
Only that you and Bud Armstrong worked late at night sometimes,
often very late, even all night.
Yeah, well, he was a very persuasive kind of guy,
and I used to believe everything he told me...
that is, until I found out
he was telling a lot of other girls the same things.
What happened the night he was killed?
Well, he made a pass at me, and I said no,
and I felt kind of proud of myself for being such a good girl,
so I decided I deserved a reward, and I went shopping.
[Sighs]
Boy, it sure feels good to tell the truth.
I sure hated to have Ronnie tell those lies for me.
Basically, I'm a very honest person, and I really hate lies.
Why did you go to my brownstone yesterday afternoon?
Oh, I didn't.
There's a cab driver I'd like you to meet
who says you have an unforgettable face,
among other things.
Now, look... see, I got this call from a guy
who said that he was working in your office
and that you wanted me to meet you at your house
'cause you were on your way home.
- And... - What happened?
What happened?
Well, nothing happened. That's what happened.
I got to your brownstone and I rang the bell,
and nobody was there.
So, I stood around for a couple of minutes, and... and then I left.
And that is the truth.
Did you ever read a book
called "The Adventure of the Purloined Gun"?
No.
Oh, come on, now... part of your job
was to read the plots of the Maestro's stories
for that Ellery Queen comic book.
Now, this list of Ellery's novels came from your desk,
and "The Purloined Gun" is almost at the top of the list.
Oh, come on... so I can't remember the title of the book.
Those books are all alike, anyway.
Miss Van Dine, you're under arrest.
What for?
Suspicion of murder.
Well, if that don't beat all.
Well, that's what you get for telling the truth today, huh?
MR. FREEMAN: I honestly thought you people were artists,
and you turn out to be nothing but second-rate hacks.
Look at this tree.
What kind of a tree is that suppose to be, Vinnie?
A magnolia tree.
Oh, a magnolia tree.
Oh, well, I'm sure the horticulturalists
will be tickled pink,
but what about the kids, Vinnie,
those sweet kids with jam and peanut butter on their faces
who want to see cute trees?
- Cute trees? - Yes.
I'm gonna be sick.
Yes, well, you do that, but after you fix up these strips.
Now, get out of here.
- Uh, Mr. Freeman? - Hmm?
Oh, yeah... uh, Queen.
Yes. Have you got a moment?
Well, if it's about that comic strip, forget it.
The kids aren't buying detectives anymore.
No, I wanted to ask you about all that stuff
that was on Armstrong's desk when he was killed.
Well, the police impounded some of it as evidence.
Yeah, I know they took the drawing that Armstrong marked.
I'm thinking about the other drawings, the ones he didn't mark.
- Oh, all that stuff was tossed out. - Tossed out in the trash?
Well, yes. That's all it was.
No, wait. Wait. I cleared the desk myself.
I remember I put all the stuff in the box...
and I put the box... in the closet.
Oh.
- May I borrow this box? - Oh, keep it.
What about your artwork?
I told you, Queen... the superheroes are dead.
They've been replaced by sweet, lovable little critters
from the swamp. Sorry.
Well, I'll bear up under it. Thank you.
Congratulations, Inspector, for the way you handled
such a delicate matter in your department.
I must admit we were all having a fit while Ellery was in the lockup.
A little upset, myself.
Well, that's all water under the bridge, so to speak...
complete vindication for you and the department.
Fine, fine.
And I wouldn't be surprised if you got a commendation
for the brilliant police work that led to the arrest
of the Van Dine woman.
While you're at it, put in a good word for Sergeant Velie.
I'll make a note of that.
The important thing is that woman's behind bars,
which is where she belongs.
I'm not so sure.
- Huh? - Huh?
I don't think she did it.
I don't care what you think.
Why'd you have to tell the Deputy Commissioner?
Sometimes, Ellery, I don't understand you.
This is approximately the way the top of Armstrong's desk looked
when he was killed.
As far as I'm concerned, we got the goods on Alma.
The case is closed.
He was sitting behind the desk, and he was holding a pencil.
I know all that.
Well, he tried to leave us a clue to the killer's identity.
If it was Alma, why didn't he write Alma?
Easy... he died!
Well, he had 10 seconds or so.
If it was Alma, he could have started to write the name.
He could have written "A-L" or "A."
Why didn't he write just any name?
Why didn't he just mark off your name?
I don't know. I don't know.
Alma did it!
[Doorbell rings]
I'll get it.
If that's Velie, tell him I'm not interested
in any homicide cases at the moment.
I'm reading "Orphan Annie."
Hiya, Junior. Glad to see you're getting your color back.
Well, I didn't realized I'd lost it. Why don't you come on in?
Well, look what the cat dragged in.
Hi, Inspector. Don't get up.
I happen to have a couple of tickets to the fight at the Garden tonight,
if you guys are free.
Well, thank you. That's very thoughtful.
I was just reading the early-bird edition
of tomorrow morning's Gazette... your column, Flannigan.
Oh, yeah, about that...
Although they played up the story of the arrest of Alma Van Dine...
big front-page story...
there's no mention of your apology to Ellery.
Inspector, you have Flannigan's word.
I wrote a complete apology
and added it to the bottom of a column I'd already written.
Now, my city editor, the rat,
decided the column was too long and blue-penciled the apology.
- He did what? - You know, he crossed it out.
That's it!
That's the answer.
Now I know what Bud Armstrong was trying to tell me.
Do you know?
You have all the clues...
blue pencil...
the mark on the drawing... this mark.
Oh, and don't forget the gun.
Don't forget the fact that it was unloaded
when I saw it before the murder.
And what else?
Oh, you might also consider all the jobs of the suspects.
Got it?
Okay, let's find out if we're right.
These are the drawings around Bud Armstrong's desk
when he was killed...
in his hand, a blue pencil.
Now, he couldn't use it to defend himself against a gun,
but he did use it in the final 10 seconds of his life
to try to help us solve the mystery of his murder.
I don't see how.
If you'll be still and listen, he'll tell you.
- Go on, Ellery. - Thank you, Dad.
Suppose Armstrong wanted to tell us that Phil Collins did it, for example.
He could have made his mark on this figure drawing.
He didn't.
Or if he wanted to implicate Vincent Porter,
the background artist, he could have chosen this drawing.
Well, he didn't.
The shading on this one would have pointed to Lyle Shannon.
So, what's your point, Queen?
Armstrong didn't single out any of us.
Well, that little blue line sure doesn't have anything to do with me.
He chose this particular drawing for a reason.
Sure. It's the only one with letters.
How about it, Freeman? The Gazette will pay 1,000 smackers
for an exclusive interview with a confessed killer.
I didn't do it. I hate violence.
Let's just suppose for a moment
that you did pull that trigger, Mr. Freeman.
Maybe you had some wild notion of getting rid of Bud Armstrong
so you could take his place and put out your own comic book.
- What, are you trying to be cute? - No, that's your area.
I'm just trying to point out that Armstrong had a sample
of your comic book with your name on it
right here on his desk, within easy reach.
He could have written a line under your name,
but he didn't do that, either.
But that doesn't leave anybody. You've eliminated all the suspects.
No, Dad, no. I'm just trying to point out
that Armstrong did not pick this drawing
because of the letters in the balloon.
Well, he didn't pick it because it's a picture of you.
We're not back to that, are we?
No. No, he chose it, with his last clear thoughts,
because it was a finished drawing, with all the elements in it.
He made his blue-pencil "X" over the lettering,
which meant, "Cross this out. Omit the dialogue."
What's left?
The figure, the background, and the shading.
Collins, Porter, and Shannon.
But the bartender at Bleeck's saw us come in.
Well, you made sure of that.
He let us out when he closed up.
Yes, but in between, when the place was crowded
and the bartender was busy with customers,
you snuck out the back way and came up here.
It had to be somebody from the inside,
somebody who knew there was a gun in that box.
It was three somebodies.
It took three of you to get up the nerve.
You probably decided to kill him
before you went to the bar to establish your alibi.
On the way, you must have stopped off to buy cartridges,
a box of.38s.
Most of the bullets ended up in a trash container or a sewer.
You only needed three... one apiece.
After the gun was loaded,
one of you led the way to Armstrong's office.
You caught him by surprise.
[Gunshot]
I don't know who fired the first shot or who nearly missed.
As far as the law is concerned, it doesn't matter.
All three of you killed Bud Armstrong.
And one of you got the bright idea to frame Ellery,
stop by the brownstone, put the gun in the fish tank,
and then sent the book to Flannigan.
Yeah. In case that didn't work,
you set up Alma as a patsy with a fake phone call.
There's no proof of any of that, Queen.
You don't have a thing on us.
Dad, may I suggest you have Sergeant Velie
check out all the pawn shops and sporting-goods stores in the area
till he finds a clerk who can identify the three customers
who bought a box of.38 cartridges the night of the murder?
You're not going to take me alive.
Yeah?
You think.
Bam! Pow! You're terrific!
This place is starting to get to me, Dad.
You better take me out of here.
We still have time to catch the main event at the Garden.
Velie, put the cuffs on these birds and get them out of here.
We got them.
This is Flannigan. Get me the Gazette.
Alma, have you thought it over? Will you stay and work for me?
Please. I need you.
Well, I know how you feel about violence,
but how do you feel about sex?
Shh, not in front of the critters.
I'll stay.
FLANNIGAN: Hiya, toots... Flannigan with the story of the century.
Take this down...
"Encouraged by this reporter, mystery scribbler Ellery Queen
provided a 'sock-sational' climax
to the case that nearly cost him his freedom.
It happened...
in a swank comic-book publishing office,
high atop a gleaming Manhattan tower...
at a time when all good little boys and girls...
were saying their beddy-bye prayers."