you didn't see the killing, or the body? how do you know there was a murder?
i'll admit it all has a mysterious sound -- but is could mean a number of different things. murder is the least likely.
it's too stupid and obvious a way to murder -- in full view of fifty windows -- and then sit over there -- -- smoking a cigar -- waiting for the police to pick him up.
you've got a lot to lean about homicide, jeff. morons have committed murder so shrewdly that it took a hundred trained police minds to catch them. that salesman wouldn't just knock off his wife after dinner, toss her in a trunk and put her in storage.
almost everything's been done -- under panic. but this is a thousand to one shot. that man's still sitting around his apartment; he isn't panicked.
i think you saw something -- that probably has a very simple explanation.
his wife took a trip.
you told me. i've got to run, jeff.
i -- uh -- won't report it to the department. let me poke into a little on my own. no point in you getting any ridiculous publicity.
we know the wife is gone. i'll see if i can find out where.
you have any headaches lately?
uh-huh. well, it'll wear off in time -- along with the hallucinations. see you around.
by the way what happened to your leg?
during the race?
he has a six months lease, and has used up a little over five and a half months of it. quiet. drinks, but not to drunkenness. pays his bill promptly, with money earned as a consume jewelry salesman -- wholesale. keeps to himself, and none of the neighbors got close to him, or his wife.
she never left the apartment --
-- until yesterday morning.
six ayem.
too bad. the thorwalds were just leaving the apartment house at that time.
feel a little foolish?
oh -- oh, she's fine. just fine.
who left -- where?
the building superintendent, and two tenants. flat statements -- no hesitation. and they all jibed to the letter. the thorwalds were leaving for the railroad station.
the superintendent met thorwald coming back. he said thorwald told him he had just put his wife on the train for the country.
jeff -- huh?
i hate to remind you -- but this all started because you said she was murdered. now did anyone, including you, actually see her murdered?
if possible -- both.
i can't do that.
i can't do it even if he's gone.
now don't get me mad! even a detective can't walk in anybody's apartment and search it. if i were ever caught in there, i'd lose my badge inside of ten minutes!
at the risk of sounding stuffy, jeff -- i'll remind you of the constitution, and the phrase "search warrant" issued by a judge who knows the bill of rights verbatim. he must ask for evidence.
i can hear myself starting out. "your honor -- i have a friend who's an amateur sleuth, an one night, after a heavy supper --" he'd throw the new york state penal code right in my face. -- and it's six volumes.
a detective's nightmare.
one thing i don't need is heckling! you called and asked me for help -- and now you're acting like a taxpayer!
how did we ever stand each other in that same plane for three years?
ever get an answer?
sorry i had to turn it down. i'm going over to the railroad station and check thorwald's story.
oh -- i almost forgot!
there was a postcard in thorwald's mailbox. mailed yesterday afternoon, three- thirty p.m. from merritsville -- -- that's eighty miles north of here. the message read "arrived o.k. already feeling better. love, anna."
mrs. thorwald.
anything you need?
what else do you have on this man thorwald?
you think he's getting out of here?
how do you do?
doyle speaking. uh-huh. -- yeah. mummmm -- mmm. hmm -- okay. thank you, and goodbye.
jewelry?
you sure it belongs to his wife?
namely?
you figured that out, huh?
as a matter of fact, i don't.
lars thorwald is no more a murderer than i am.
no!
and neither can you. that's a secret and private world you're looking into out there. people do a lot at things in private that they couldn't explain in public.
get that idea out of your mind. it will only lead you in the wrong direction.
did you ever own a saw?
and how many people did you cut up with the couple of with it? or hundred knives you've probably owned in your lifetime?
your logic is backward.
i checked the railroad station. he bought a ticket. he put her on the train ten minutes later. destination: merritsville. witnesses. this deep.
look, miss fremont. that feminine intuition sells magazines -- but in real life, it's still a fairy tale. i don't know how many wasted years i've spent running down leads based on women's intuitions.
i found the trunk -- a half hour after i left here.
when the lock is broken -- yes.
mrs. -- thorwald's -- clothes. -- clean -- carefully packed -- not too stylish -- but presentable.
i sent it on its merry and legal way.
let the female psychology department handle that one.
that's what they call a family problem.
do -- uh -- you tell your landlord everything?
if i'd been careful piloting that reconnaissance plane, you wouldn't have taken the kind of pictures that got you a medal, a big job, fame, money --
now -- what do you say we sit down to a quiet, friendly drink or two -- forget all about this, and tell lies about the old days in the war? hmmm? he looks from one to the other.
there isn't any "case" to be through with, miss fremont. now let's get down to that friendly drink.
maybe you're right. i guess i'd better get home and get some sleep.
i'm not much of a snifter.
if you need any more help, jeff -- consult the yellow pages of your telephone directory.
mrs. anna thorwald.
oh -- that phone call! i gave them your number -- hope you don't mind.
the police department at merritsville. they called to report. the trunk was just picked up -- by mrs. anna thorwald.
don't stay up too late.
this is doyle, jeff.
look jeff, don't louse up my night with another man killer stuffing a grisly trunk that turns out to be --
your lisa?
i told you that --
like what?
a possibility.
like an old hambone?
you think perhaps it was "old hambone?"
where'd they take lisa?
maybe you won't need it. i'll run it down, jeff.
if that ring checks out, we'll give him an escort. so long.
creel! your thirty-eight!
oh sure. sure. i can make it.
yeah?
did he say what was buried in the flower bed?