The man in this portrait is dead.
Who killed him?
Was it his bereaved widow?
Welcome to the hour of disenchantment, Mr. Queen.
The family doctor?
He had about four months to live.
The business partner?
Well, that rules me out because I was in Albany at the time.
The mysterious priest?
Inspector, I am not going to reveal to you what passed between us.
The Oriental visitor?
Which leads you to suspect that a Chinese committed the crime?
Or was it someone else?
Match wits with Ellery Queen
and see if you can guess who done it.
Ellery?
Oh, good morning, Dad.
Dare I ask what you're doing?
Yeah, fixing the sink. It's been dripping.
It's been dripping for three years.
Really?
I just thought it just needed a washer.
You know, I tried that,
but after I fixed it, it dripped worse than ever.
Is that so?
Well, imagine that.
While you're remodeling, I think I'll have a cup of coffee.
I think I'll make a cup of coffee.
On second thought, maybe I won't have any coffee.
Huh?
Oh, hey, I'm sorry, Dad. I forgot to make it.
That's all right. I'll fill it from the tap in the bathroom.
How long before you give up and call in a plumber?
Huh? Oh, don't worry, Dad.
I know exactly what I'm doing.
[Door bell ringing] Mm-hmm, yeah, right.
Morning, Inspector.
Velie, what are you doing here?
I'm sorry, Inspector. I know it's early, but it's Brooklyn Heights.
Well, Brooklyn Heights will just have to wait
until after I've had my coffee.
- It's murder. - Murder?
Murder?
Ellery, fix the sink.
That's the report, sir, and they need you right away.
Dad, the sink can wait.
Ellery, as much as I'd like your help,
I don't intend to come home and find that kitchen
looking like a used plumbing outlet.
Now, you took it apart. You put it back together again.
But...
As near as I can figure, Inspector,
I got six different sets of fingerprints in there.
My, my, my, this is my lucky day.
Usually we got no prints. Today we get six.
Yeah, well, one of them probably belongs to the victim.
I'll roll them for comparison as soon as we get the body to the morgue.
That leaves us five. Good work, Buford.
Check the rest of those prints for identification as soon as possible.
Yes, sir.
Excuse me, Inspector.
How long do me and my helper got to hang around here?
I'm sorry, Mr. Mercadonte.
You can't go to work until my men finish checking out the property.
Well, you want me to call him, Inspector?
Who?
The Maestro.
We don't need Ellery. We've got six prints.
Besides, my son the plumber will probably have his hands full
the rest of the day.
- I wouldn't count on it, Inspector. - Huh?
[Car horn honking]
Hey, Dad?
[Screeching tires]
[Crashing]
Ohh.
I'm sorry.
I didn't realize I was driving so fast.
That's okay.
It looks like you got the worst of it than me.
This is my son, Ellery. This is Mr. Mercadonte.
He discovered the body.
You put that sink back together?
Yes, the sink is back together.
Mr. Mercadonte, you discovered the body?
Yeah, well, me and my helper, you know?
It was 8:00.
We're coming up the driveway here.
We looked over. We see him hanging from that structure.
You know, I don't think I've ever run across a death by hanging before.
You still haven't.
Huh?
He was stabbed.
Yeah, well, even I could tell that.
There he was, hanging there, these flowers on his head, you know?
Looked so peaceful, God rest his soul.
Flowers?
That's right, Maestro, flowers from that bush over there.
Hey, don't call a cercis a bush.
It's a tree. It's a redbud tree.
Sure is one strange cop.
Hiya, Doc.
Hey, Ellery, good morning.
Hi.
Was he really dead before he was hanged?
Let's take another look.
Aah.
Yeah. No discoloration around his neck.
Let's see, his name was George Sherman, age 34, height 6'1",
weight 200 pounds.
I got all this off his driver's license.
He died of a single stab wound in the stomach.
That's all I've been able to find.
I'll be able to tell you more after the autopsy.
Time of death was between 9:00 and 11:00 last evening.
- Death instantaneous? - No, it's... it's not likely.
Looks like he was stabbed in the study,
dragged out here, and the first...
You spot something?
We just loosened that noose to get him down.
We didn't want to hurt the evidence up there.
Doc, where are the flowers?
You mean the ones he had around his head?
Yeah.
They're in the house.
- Thanks, Doc. - My pleasure.
You did, eh?
Fine, Judson.
Oh, that's good work.
Hi, Ellery.
Hi, Dad.
No, no, I'll be here another hour.
Yeah, that's right.
They located the wife. She's on her way, Ellery.
Ellery?
Dad, is this where he died?
Near as we can figure
from the bloodstains on the rug and the chair,
and from the scuff marks, looks like he was dragged out
through the front door.
- Any fingerprints? - Six different sets.
Six?
The photographer's all through, Inspector.
The prints should be on your desk this afternoon.
Thanks, Velie.
Dad, what about the murder weapon?
- Velie? - Yes, sir?
- They find the knife yet? - Still looking, Inspector.
What is it?
Hand-painted porcelain.
Looks like 13th-century Mandarin.
Oh! This stuff has been dusted, hasn't it?
- Fine time to ask. - I know. Sorry.
That's interesting.
Wow. What a collection.
Dad, how about these daggers?
Clean as a whistle, all of them.
Strange.
That's...
...very, very strange.
Huh? What is?
I don't know.
But it seems as though we might be looking for a left-handed killer.
What? How do you know?
Look at the picture, Dad.
George Sherman, épée in hand, his right hand.
Look at these cups.
What about them?
Well, these five cups are all dusty on the inside.
But this one has been wiped clean and dry.
It seems that whoever visited George Sherman last night,
presumably his killer, cleaned up the studio.
Oh, Dad, I would suggest that you give a Benzedrine test to those daggers.
For blood traces?
Well, if the killer wiped a cup, he could wipe a dagger.
How do you know
that George Sherman didn't clean the cup and put it back?
Because he was right-handed,
and being right-handed, he would have replaced it on this side.
Now, if he was left-handed, it would have been the opposite way around.
He would have replaced it on this side.
But since we know that Sherman was right-handed,
there's a strong possibility that his killer was left-handed.
I wouldn't exactly call that hard evidence.
Yeah, that's what you need, all right, hard evidence.
Inspector Queen?
Yeah.
Middle Atlantic Insurance Company.
That's your name?
No, Albert Russo, insurance investigator.
You can call me Al.
I'm Ellery Queen. You sure got here in a big hurry.
Well, for a half a million bucks, I'm a regular Glenn Cunningham.
George Sherman is insured by your company?
You know it.
11 months ago, our company issued two insurance policies,
quarter-million dollars apiece.
Who gets it?
Paulette Sherman, his widow, and Gunther Starr, his partner.
That makes them prime suspects, in my book.
Okay, Mr. Russo, you'll be notified if anything turns up that concerns you.
Ah. Oh.
Okay, Inspector, okay.
You work your way, and I'll work my way.
I'm used to getting the runaround from you guys.
That's why I'm always so happy when I come up with the answer first.
- Inspector Queen? - Mrs. Sherman?
Yes, I'm Paulette Sherman. This is Dr. Anthony Bender.
How do you do?
I'm Inspector Queen. This is my son, Ellery.
Good-bye, Mr. Russo.
I think an apology is due, or at least an explanation,
not just to me, but to the doctor.
Paulette, it's quite all right.
Nonsense. Now, you were his doctor.
You should have been the first one notified.
After all, he had been treating my husband for the last few months.
For what?
His illness, of course.
Mrs. Sherman, I'm sorry to say this, but your husband was murdered.
Mrs. Sherman, you said your husband had been very ill?
Terminally ill, Mr. Queen.
A lymphatic condition. He had about four months to live,
a year at the most.
Thank you, dear.
I was resigned to his eventual death, but something like this I...
Who knew about his condition?
Well, George didn't want anyone to know, not even Gunther.
Mrs. Sherman, would that be Gunther Starr?
Yes, he was my husband's business partner.
Starr and Sherman Construction,
they're building apartment houses in Kew Gardens.
The office is in Manhattan, on West 44th Street.
Well, surely you don't suspect Gunther.
He and George got along famously.
At the moment, dear lady, I suspect no one,
and I suspect everyone.
- Velie? - Yes, sir?
Excuse me.
Paulette, do you remember the Oriental?
What Oriental?
I have no idea, but he was here last week.
Who was here?
A man, Inspector.
Chinese, Japanese, I'm not sure.
George got into an argument with him. It was right here.
The door was closed. I didn't hear all the details.
I saw him yesterday afternoon.
He drove up as I was leaving.
Do you think you could describe this man to a police artist?
I don't see why not. I could try.
Good. Of course, it may not mean anything.
Or it might mean a great deal.
My husband was in the Orient during the war.
In the military?
No, he sold arms and munitions to the Chinese.
I suppose you... you could call him a war profiteer.
Something happened to him over there.
I don't know what.
But he would cry out in his sleep. He... He wouldn't talk about it,
but I knew.
- Inspector. - Yes, of course.
Thank you, Mrs. Sherman.
I'll expect you both at police headquarters as soon as possible
to meet the artist.
Certainly.
One more thing, Mrs. Sherman.
Do you have an apartment in the city?
No.
Then you stayed in town with friends last night?
Inspector, I don't feel it's any of your business.
Dr. Bender and I went to the theater.
Then we had a late supper at the Stork.
- Afterwards... - Paulette.
Afterwards, I spent the night at his townhouse.
Dad, you're just being old-fashioned.
Old-fashioned? The woman's husband's dying.
She's off playing house with young Dr. Kildare.
She explained that her husband encouraged the relationship.
I can't believe that.
You ever see "Dark Victory"?
What's that, another one of your soap operas?
- A Bette Davis movie. - Must have missed it.
Any messages, Grace?
Yeah, Sergeant Buford left some fingerprints on your desk.
Grace, did you make those phone calls?
Yeah, five phone calls, five plumbers, four nos.
Oh, one guy said he might... might be able to make it
a week from Sunday.
Ellery!
Yeah?
- Keep trying. - Yeah, I will.
Six sets of prints, son. Buford identified three of them.
The victim, his wife, and Dr. Anthony Bender.
Now, there's no identification on the others,
but he's checking the usual records.
Ah. Well, don't get your hopes up, Dad.
If the killers wore gloves, these prints won't mean anything.
And if they didn't? What do you mean, killers?
Oh, at least two, maybe more.
Sherman weighed 200 pounds.
He was strung up to a 9-foot beam.
That's 200 pounds of dead weight.
Well, he could have tied the end of the rope around the victim's neck,
thrown the other end of the beam, and hoisted him up.
No, Dad, then the beam would have been bruised.
I looked. It wasn't.
There had to be two.
Would you excuse me, Dad? I have to talk to Grace again.
Again? What are you two up to?
My birthday isn't until December.
Oh, I know, Yeah, I know. Yeah, yes.
It's something else.
Okay, well...
Well, can you tell me when he'll be back from his Caribbean cruise?
Oh, no.
No, I'm afraid this thing can't wait that long.
- Thank you. - Inspector Queen?
No, sir, that's my dad.
Somebody looking for me?
Louis Marshall, Inspector, attorney-at-law.
I represent Gunther Starr.
I understand you've been trying to locate him.
That's right.
Well, Mr. Starr and I have just returned from Albany by train.
He expresses regret,
but he won't be able to meet with you today.
Perhaps tomorrow.
Oh, he won't, eh?
I'm sorry I was so long.
I was in Albany until 7:45 this morning,
when Lou and I caught the train.
I suppose someone called you to tell you that your partner was dead?
No, as a matter of fact, I found out about Georgie when I...
I called the office from the construction site.
And it's, uh... ex-partner.
Meaning you own the entire firm now that he's dead.
Meaning nothing of the kind, friend.
Eight days ago, George sold Mr. Starr his interest in the company.
He wanted it fast and in cash.
I used to think Georgie was a really smart apple.
But at half-a-million bucks, he really sold out cheap.
Maybe...
Maybe because he knew he was going to die?
Die?
Your partner had a terminal illness, Mr. Starr.
Now, don't tell me you didn't know that.
N-No, he never said a word about it.
Wait a minute. That's why he was seeing a priest.
Priest? What priest?
Lou, you talked to the guy.
Oh, Father Devlin, a missionary, he was here in the city to raise funds.
Excuse me. Terrence Devlin?
You know him, son?
Well, by reputation, yeah. He left the States in the early '30s
to start a mission in the mountains near Chienshui.
Where is that?
China, Dad.
China.
No. Oh, I'm sorry, Inspector.
I don't...
I just can't help you with this man. I'm sorry.
Can I offer you, gentlemen, something...
coffee, wine, something stronger perhaps?
No, not... not for me. Thank you, Father.
No.
You know, you look a little pale to me, Mr. Queen.
You've been sitting at your typewriter too long.
You don't... You don't play handball, do you?
Handb... No, no, I don't. No. I play a little basketball.
Basketball! Yes, I should have guessed that, yeah.
Inspector, are you sure that...?
I'm more interested in the identity of this gentleman.
Yes, I know that.
And since I have recently arrived from China,
that makes me the resident expert on Chinese aliens.
That and the fact that you were both acquainted with George Sherman.
Yes, now, that is a coincidence.
It sounds to me like the ingredients to one of your novels, Mr. Queen.
A missionary priest, a mysterious Oriental.
I've read them all. I've read every one of your books.
Someday we must have a long talk.
Father, we had a very difficult time finding you.
The archdiocese didn't even know you were in the city.
Well, I'm not exactly hiding, but I do have to be politic.
The local charities become very unhappy with me
when I come into a city like this and siphon off
some of the available funds, you understand.
Funds?
Funds from George Sherman, for example?
Yes, that's a very good example, Mr. Queen.
Ellery... may I call you Ellery?
- Please do. - Thank you, Thank you.
Look, Father,
George Sherman's attorney said he wasn't even a Catholic.
To tell you the truth, he wasn't anything, gentlemen.
But when you see a man careening straight to the hereafter
on a runaway train, you just don't toss him off
because he has the wrong color ticket, now, do you?
You make the hereafter sound like a pretty warm place.
Sherman, he...
He got a lot off his chest with me.
And I... I think it might have helped.
He made a confession?
Well...
Yes and no. It wasn't a...
not a formal confession, you understand.
Why don't you fill us in?
I...
I don't think I could do that.
Father, he was hanging with a garland of flowering buds on his head,
buds from the cercis tree,
which, as you know, is another name for the Judas tree,
the universal symbol of betrayal.
No, I...
I'm sorry.
Formal or not, it was a private thing, Inspector.
It was... It was very private.
Father, you're impeding an official investigation.
George Sherman was murdered.
Inspector, I am not going to reveal to you what passed between us.
Now, I know you have your trust to keep.
But I have mine.
Where is that fizz?
I don't...
Dad, look.
I don't know why I ate those green peppers and sausages.
I won't sleep a wink tonight.
And why did I let you talk me into eating out?
You don't like the way I wash the dirty dishes.
And look.
Would you put your greasy tools in the toolbox?
I'm sorry.
My stomach's beginning to feel as if I'd swallowed a lump of coal.
Where, oh, where, oh, where?
Excuse me.
Well, finally.
Now, what was that about an alibi?
Huh?
Oh, Paulette and Tony's alibis hold up,
as do Gunther Starr's and Louis Marshall's.
They were in Albany,
had dinner with a state senator between 7:00, almost 10:30.
I verified their alibi with the senator's secretary.
Scratch Al Russo's prime suspects.
Hmm?
If you ask me, it's beginning
to look more and more like our missing Oriental.
What?
Why do you say that?
One of the knives in that breakfront was used to kill Sherman.
The murderer or murderers cleaned it up and put it back,
just like your teacup.
And speaking of tea, what I want is a nice cold glass of water.
Dad, you're not gonna like... Ohh.
Velie circulated that artist's sketch all over Chinatown.
Nobody seems to know him.
Hot water from a cold tap? Ellery!
Dad, there was no pen in Sherman's pocket.
- What about the sink? - Never mind about that.
Look at my hand.
What about the sink?
The greasy wrench...
you see the grime spots on my hand here between the fingers.
It's from using this wrench, trying to fix that sink.
The word "trying" will get no argument from me.
Dad, come on. There's something we got to find out.
Huh?
This is breaking and entering. You know that?
Dad, you're a police officer.
Oh, for the moment.
Now, what's all this about a dying clue?
I want you to sit down at the desk.
Why?
I want you to write something for me.
What?
Dad, please.
Write something?
Pen, paper.
What is this, my last will and testament?
I want you to write, "The person who killed me is..."
Yeah?
I want you to write that.
"The person who killed me is..."
Who?
I don't know.
Let me see your hand.
You see that, Dad? The pen leaks.
George Sherman had ink stains on his fingers, his right hand.
He was sitting at this desk, and he was writing something.
The name of his killer.
Killers, maybe.
If I could only figure out...
[Movement outside room]
- Ellery. - Shh.
Ellery...
- I don't have a gun. - It's all right.
Let's find out who it is and what he wants.
All right, hold it right there, my friend.
Now, you wait just a second!
Wait!
Ohh!
- Ohh, I'm gonna get... - It's too late. He's gone.
I'll put out an alarm.
This is Inspector Queen, New York Police.
Give me the 58th precinct, and hurry!
Ow.
One set of stubs representing five checks.
And somebody wanted this badly enough
to risk getting arrested for it.
Will you sit still?
Five stubs, five checks.
Right on the top is your missing Oriental.
A check in the amount of $250,000 made out to a Mr. Stephen Yang.
Well, now at least we've got a name to go with the face.
Now, this is strange. This is very strange.
Two checks made out to Father Devlin,
one made out to him personally, and it was voided,
the second one made out to the Chinese Christian Relief Mission.
I wonder why he did that.
How much?
$250,000 each.
Sounds like a man trying to buy his way through the pearly gates.
What are the other two checks on that stub?
$5,000 to Louis Marshall, the firm's attorney.
The last one is for $1,200, payable to the gardener.
$1,200 for pulling weeds?
[Door bell ringing]
Here, rub that on.
Evening, Inspector. I hear the report on the police band.
I figured you'd be up. How's the Maestro?
I'm not sure. Why don't you feel his pulse and see if he's still with us?
Maestro, how you feeling?
Huh? Oh, hi, Velie.
How you feeling?
What? I'm feeling fine, just fine, thanks.
Well, they got a match on two more sets of those fingerprints.
What is it, Dad?
One's the housekeeper,
and the other is a Captain Thomas G. Wharton, U.S. Marine Corps.
Who's this Captain Wharton?
No idea, Inspector,
but the Navy Department is sending us a copy of his 201 file.
We should have it in the morning.
Leaving one set of prints unaccounted for.
Who is probably our Oriental friend, Mr. Stephen Yang.
Queen.
Oh, Mr. Russo, how are you?
Oh, not so good, thanks.
I hear George Sherman was dying from a terminal illness.
Oh? Where'd you hear that?
I also hear that he's probably had the condition for a couple of years.
Possibly.
Interesting, considering the hanky-panky that's been going on
between the bereaved widow and the doctor with the...
hotsy-totsy bedside manner.
- Well, I don't know. - Don't get nervous, Queen.
I want to do a little business, a trade...
what I know for what you know,
and all it costs you is a copy of that coroner's report.
Oh, I can't promise that.
But if I think you have something, I'll ask my dad if he'll help out.
No, no, not good enough.
- I'm sorry. - Okay. Okay.
11 months ago, George Sherman was issued two insurance policies,
quarter-million dollars apiece.
Yes, one naming Paulette Sherman, the other naming Gunther Starr.
But what you didn't know is, is that the doctor that gave George Sherman
a clean bill of health was none other than Dr. Tony Bender.
I'll see about that coroner's report for you.
You're okay, pal.
"I understand you're looking for me. Please follow the black limousine
now parked behind you."
[Car engine starts]
Thank you for coming, Mr. Queen.
Well, you gave me very little choice, Mr. Yang.
That's an excellent landscape.
And so is the portrait that you painted of George Sherman
that hangs over his fireplace, the fencing pose.
I didn't sign that.
Oh.
Sir, your style is unmistakable.
I painted that several years ago,
during happier days with George Sherman.
Days that became unhappy?
Since your police are searching for me,
I must presume I'm a suspect in his murder.
I will pretend no remorse, Mr. Queen.
He deserved to die.
I was a leader of a guerilla band near the China/Burma border,
fighting the last pockets of Japanese resistance.
Sherman was selling us arms at quite a nice profit to himself.
We planned a raid on a power station. He knew about it.
Somehow the Japanese captured him, and he betrayed us.
The raid failed.
42 good men were killed,
and we all knew who was responsible.
Well, why didn't you kill him then?
Your question presupposes that I killed him now.
I almost did.
I found out Sherman's whereabouts
and went to his house to confront him.
I expected to find the robust adventurer of that portrait.
Instead, I found a pitiful, frightened man.
He did not deny his actions, hardly. He even begged my forgiveness.
In the amount of $250,000?
He begged me to take it.
He said that he had very little time,
that he wanted to make amends with the families of the dead.
I decided to let him live with his crime rather than to end his misery.
Mr. Yang, he was killed with an Oriental knife.
Which leads you to suspect that a Chinese committed the crime.
How quaint, Mr. Queen.
Sir, there were other people on the raid that had motives...
wives, children?
- Dozens. - Yeah.
But there can be only one Chinese suspect... me.
I see, am I free to go now? May I get out of here?
Of course. Can you find your way back?
Yes, I'm... I'm going to try. Thank you.
Oh, Mr. Yang,
have you ever seen this man before?
No, I'm sorry. Do you think he's the killer?
Uh...
He's one of the suspects.
You showed him my picture?
Careful, Dad. You'll smudge the prints.
What prints?
Well, there's still one set of prints unidentified.
You think they belong to Mr. Yang? Perhaps they do.
- Now we'll find out for sure. - Good thinking, son.
Oh, Grace, will you call Sergeant Velie for me?
Yes, sir.
And this just arrived for you, special delivery.
Navy Department?
Captain Wharton's file.
Well, well, well, well, well, well, well.
Well, w... What?
Oh, nothing much, just that the...
Navy was kind enough to send along a picture of the Captain.
So, you knew all along that I wasn't a real priest, Mr. Queen?
Oh, boy. What... What gave me away?
Well, you tried to steal the stubs from the checkbook.
So, he was the one?
- That's right, Dad. - I thought it was Yang.
May I explain to your father, Mr. Queen?
Sure.
Okay.
You see, Inspector, out of guilt for the China incident,
Sherman made out a check for $250,000,
made payable to Father Terrence Devlin.
Since I'm obviously not Father Devlin,
I couldn't endorse the check without committing forgery,
so I asked him to tear it up.
He did.
I asked him to make out another check
to the Chinese Christian Relief Mission.
That I could endorse with a rubber stamp.
What about the real Father Devlin?
He died.
Three months ago, pneumonia.
We needed funds, but the Mission was Father Devlin.
I mean, who was going to give donations to a nobody?
So, we decided to keep his death a secret.
And since no one on the East Coast
had seen Devlin since he was 24 years old,
you thought you'd get away with the masquerade, huh?
Yeah.
I didn't do a half-bad job, either, did I?
No, you didn't.
Now, if you'll accompany me to headquarters to make a statement...
Okay.
But just so that you understand,
every dime I collected, Inspector, and I mean every dime,
has gone to that mission.
We'll check that out, too. Coming, son?
No, you go ahead, Dad.
Okay?
Yeah, congratulations. You're getting the hang of it.
Yeah.
Dr. Bender's office said I'd find him here.
Yeah, he's over in the library.
Thank you, Mr. Mercadonte.
Welcome to the hour of disenchantment, Mr. Queen.
May I offer you a drink while I still can?
No, no. Thank you.
Actually, I wanted to talk to Dr. Bender, but...
if I've come at a bad time...
Bad?
Well, I might as well let you in
on my late husband's macabre little joke.
Mr. Marshall tells me that I have been left penniless.
My husband sold his business and gave away the proceeds.
He's given this house away to some silly orphanage.
There's no cash left, no stock.
Paulette, you still have the insurance money.
Thank God.
Oh, yes, about that...
Dr. Bender, may I speak to you privately?
Mrs. Sherman and I don't have any secrets.
All right.
You've known each other a little less than a year?
That is correct.
In fact, didn't you meet Mrs. Sherman after you'd examined her husband
for the two insurance policies?
Where did you get the information that I was the doctor on the case?
Oh, I examined the coroner's report.
George Sherman's lymphatic condition was in an advanced state.
And what is that supposed to mean?
Well, I just wonder why you didn't spot it 11 months ago,
when these policies were issued.
Because I wasn't looking for it.
Look, Mr. Queen, there's no deception. There's no collusion.
It's just that I didn't know the man prior to that time.
Mr. Queen, your behavior's inexcusable.
I think it's time for you to leave.
Of course, I'm... I'm sorry.
It... It's just that...
You see, it's a question that has to be asked,
if not by me, then by the police.
Oh, Mr. Mercadonte,
about a week ago, Mr. Sherman gave you a check for $1,200?
Right.
What was that for?
Look after the yard... what else?
Well, isn't that a little steep, I mean, even for a place like this?
Well, Dave and me, we make $100 a month, so he paid us in advance.
A year in advance? Did he say why?
I don't know.
I guess he just wanted to make sure that we...
took good care of his place in case he went away.
Listen, if somebody's gonna pay me a year in advance,
I don't ask no questions, I just take the money.
- Thank you. - Okay, see you.
Okay, what you're doing? Come on.
Well, that's it.
Of course. That's got to be it.
Now I know who killed George Sherman...
the one person with something to gain from it.
You're probably way ahead of me. You've got all the clues.
The ink stains on George's hand, the alibis, motive.
Put them all together, and what have you got?
Well, Dr. Tony Bender,
the not-so-grieving widow, Paulette Sherman?
Oh, and don't forget Stephen Yang or the phony Father Devlin.
Or maybe it was somebody else,
maybe somebody you haven't even considered.
Let's find out.
Dad, we'll be out of here by 9:00.
Well, I hope so. Graziano's fighting LaMotta at 10:00 in the Garden.
I managed to get us two ringside seats.
10:00 tonight?
Well, if we're out of here by 9:00, we'll be okay.
- Inspector? - Yeah?
Oh, thanks for showing up, Mr. Yang.
Inspector Queen, I'm sure I had very little choice.
Inspector, that's the man. That's the man I saw.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Son?
Thanks, Dad.
As you've probably gathered, we're here tonight
to identify the killer of George Sherman.
Killers, Ellery.
To continue, as you all probably know by now,
George Sherman was dying of an acute lymphatic ailment.
He had a few months to live, maybe even as much as a year.
- Is that not right, Doctor? - Yes, that's right.
On the day he was killed,
only two people in this room knew about that illness...
his doctor and his wife.
Now, it's not likely that either one of them would risk a murder charge
to kill a man who had such a short time to live as it was.
Besides which,
their activities at the time of the murder can be accounted for
by at least a dozen witnesses.
Now, that leaves four suspects
who were unaware of Sherman's terminal illness
Well, that rules me out because I was in Albany at the time,
and a state senator will testify to that.
- Isn't that right, counselor? - That's right.
Gunther, you had a motive, $250,000 worth of insurance.
You could have hired someone.
And you could have done the same thing.
Isn't that a possibility, Mr. Queen?
That is a possibility, Mr. Starr.
Yes, that is a possibility,
but, Mrs. Sherman, I'm afraid you're wrong about the motive.
You see, the insurance policy was a survival policy,
naming each partner in the event of the death of the other.
But since Mr. Starr had already bought out your husband
before he was dead,
that policy was automatically void.
Investigator Russo didn't know about that sale.
That's why he suspected you.
He does now, Dad. I talked to him about an hour ago.
And he was kind enough to provide me
with copies of the insurance policy.
Well, I certainly had nothing to gain from George's death.
Well, sir, there's a little matter of $5,000 paid to you.
It was on the check stub.
Well, that was for services rendered...
sale of the business, his will.
And to buy your silence, swearing you to secrecy
so that his wife would not know about his divesting his holdings
and selling this house.
But you were also in Albany.
It's been established that that's good enough an alibi.
- So, that brings us to Father Devlin. - The priest?
You got to be kidding, Queen.
I'm not accusing a priest, Mr. Starr.
In the first place, this gentleman had no motive.
The check for $250,000 had already been cashed,
and the funds were safely on their way to China.
Well, that leaves just one suspect, Mr. Yang.
Yeah.
So, that's why I was summoned here, to be accused of a murder?
Well, you must admit, Mr. Yang,
that the evidence certainly does point your way.
The hanging of George Sherman with a crown of buds from a Judas tree
most clearly indicates your motive, betrayal.
The fact that the murder weapon was a Chinese ceremonial dagger,
the fact that you were here in his house the day he was killed...
But I did not kill him.
No, you didn't,
but somebody went to an awful lot of trouble to make it look like you did.
- Ellery. - Sir?
You've eliminated all the suspects in the room.
No, Dad.
The people who hanged George Sherman are in this room.
That's ridiculous. This is another riddle!
No, no, no, no, no, no, it's not.
If you give me a moment, I think I can explain.
Oh, good. I want to hear this.
11 months ago, George Sherman returned home.
He applied for insurance to protect both his wife and his business.
Dr. Bender gave the physical examination
and found George Sherman physically fit.
But I think, Dr. Bender, you also discovered his illness,
something that he might have known about, as well.
I further think that he gave you a bribe
to falsify those insurance reports.
- And that's a lie, Mr. Queen. - Is it?
Yes, it is.
Shortly afterwards, you became very good friends with the Shermans.
As a matter of fact,
you became an exceptionally close friend of Mrs. Sherman.
We told you, George knew about our relationship. He understood.
Yes, well, we only have your word for that, Mrs. Sherman.
George was dying.
He wanted to make restitution to those he had wronged.
I think that he also wanted to revenge himself...
on a faithless friend and an even more faithless wife.
Now, knowing he was dying, he divested himself of all his assets,
swore Mr. Marshall to secrecy so that you couldn't interfere.
Now, here's what I think happened.
On the afternoon of the day he died,
he told you and Tony what he had done.
That night, after your supper at the Stork,
you returned to the house to try to reason with him.
You found him dead.
And unless I'm mistaken,
there was a note on the desk in which he named his killer.
Now, we know Sherman had written something because of the leaky pen
and the ink stains on his fingers.
For reasons of your own, you decided to get rid of the evidence.
You destroyed the note,
cleaned off the knife, washed and dried the teacup,
except, being left-handed,
you placed it on the left side of the cabinet, not the right.
You dragged his body out the door to the stretcher,
adding the most brilliant stroke of all,
the flowers from the Judas tree to incriminate Mr. Yang.
Mrs. Sherman was probably waiting with the rope.
She helped you hoist the body up.
Fascinating, Mr. Queen, fascinating.
But even granting you that your theory is correct,
I don't think it's a crime to hang a dead man.
So, all you've done is to clear Paulette and me of murder.
Now, let me get this straight.
You're saying that these two did not kill George Sherman?
That's right.
But you promised to identify the killer.
Yes, sir.
I am, I am.
The killer is in this room...
there on the wall.
What?
No, wait a minute. Wait a minute. You're going to fast for me.
You mean George Sherman killed himself?
Dad, it was the only way
he could strike back at his wife and Dr. Bender.
All he had was
a quarter-million-dollar insurance policy, with the usual exclusions.
The policy was void if the insured took his own life.
I can almost imagine George Sherman
writing a suicide note to that effect as he had his last cup of tea, alone.
So we end up with nothing, after all.
Oh, you have each other.
And an appointment with the judge for tampering with evidence
and defrauding an insurance company.
- Velie? - Yes, sir?
Take them in.
That's great work, Queen.
If I ever get into trouble, I'm gonna call you.
- I assume we may go now. - Sure.
- You, too, Mr. Yang. - Thank you, Inspector Queen.
Mr. Queen, it's been most illuminating.
And now...
- Father... - Oh, I understand, Inspector.
I have some things to answer for myself.
- Dad, don't you think...? - Quiet, Ellery.
I checked your bank, Captain. You were leveling with us.
You did send the money to the mission.
So, I have a suggestion for you.
Why don't you find the first plane leaving for China tomorrow morning
and get on it?
Thank you.
Thanks.
Good luck.
Yeah.
Well, that's good, Ellery. I think we can make the Garden.
Who do you like?
I think Graziano's gonna murder the bum.
Well, Dad, about that, I'm afraid I can't make it.
I have to be at the house tonight.
What for?
I found a plumber.
Oh, wonderful.
But, you see, the plumber can only come tonight at 10:00.
Tonight? Oh, that's too bad.
Well, maybe I can get him to come another time.
No, Ellery, I don't think you can.
Aw, Dad.