Philo Vance: The Eagle Murder Case 07/13/1948

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Don't look too much wrong with the guy we're carrying, is there a duck?

Ah, not too much, Steve.

Fracture of the right arm and right ankle.

I had more trouble with his wife and two partners.

They wanted to ride along to the hospital and his ambulance.

It's all I need, passengers.

Yeah, what happened to the guy we got him back?

Auto accident.

Yeah, his wife and two partners in the car and tried to wrap it around an elevated pillar.

You're a funny guy.

He fought against my giving him a hypodermic.

Wonder why?

No reason.

No good reason, that is.

He kept saying, no hypo.

Please, doctor, I'll be murdered before I get to the hospital if you give me a hypo.

That's nothing, though.

Shock hysteria brought on by the accident, that's all.

Wonder why a guy would think someone was going to kill him?

He didn't know what he was saying.

He kept mumbling about no hypo right up to the time we closed the doors in the back.

Don't you remember?

I remember him saying something, but I didn't pay any attention.

Well, here we are.

Yep.

I'll have this back door open in a jiffy and our friend fixed up before he knows it.

He thought somebody was trying to murder him.

He doubled your doctor?

Emergency ward, Steve, sure.

What else could it be?

Well, I'll hop in and grab the top part of the stretcher.

Now, stay right here and get ready to grab it, Steve.

I'm ready, shove it down.

Oh, Steve.

Steve, they're dark, what is it, duck?

We don't mark this case, EW, for the emergency ward.

He's got a knife stuck on his right side.

He's DOA.

What?

Yeah, dead on arrival.

Huh?

Sergeant Heath, that's all I can tell you.

I could swear he was alive when we put him into that ambulance.

Nobody could have got in when we were on route here,

and yet that knife was sticking in him when I opened the door.

That's what I like.

A nice, simple murder.

Why did I have to be a homicide detective?

Hey, Chief, the district attorney just walked in.

That's all I need.

Okay, duck, you can go.

Stick around in case I need you.

Yes, Sergeant, I'll be here.

Hello, here you go.

Hi, Mr. Markham.

Well, we got another one.

I know, I've got the whole story.

Only it's not possible that a man with nothing more serious

than a couple of fractures is alive when he's put into an ambulance,

and dead when the ambulance reaches its destination.

Don't I know it is impossible?

Sure, we got suspect.

We got the guy's wife and his two partners,

how can I tell who if I don't even know how?

I think maybe this might be a case for final vans.

Oh, no, wait a minute, DA.

We don't need vans snooping around here.

That's what you said in the Bishop Murder case

and the Green Murder and the Canary Murder cases.

But he was the one who solved them.

No, he was lucky.

Look, DA, give us 24 hours.

Then maybe I won't mind vans.

You won't mind vans.

I'm going to ask him to work on this case.

Maybe he won't mind you.

Oh, no.

Hmm, what time is it, Miss Deering?

One minute or five, Mr. Vans.

Thank you, Miss Deering.

Are you through the letters I dictated?

They're on your desk, Mr. Vans.

Will that be all?

Well, the next 30 seconds.

And then?

It'll be five o'clock and a coach in four drives up.

I remember to call you Ellen and you forget to call me Mr. Vans.

Well, 30 seconds or up.

I'm glad, Vans.

Now it can be ourselves.

Where are you taking me tonight?

Well, dinner for one thing.

I never starve my women.

No good private investigator would.

It might lead to a private investigation.

Hello, is anybody home?

The whole sounds like your friend the district attorney's

in the outer office, Vans.

Markham, we're in here.

Hello, there you two.

How are you?

Hello, Markham.

Well, Ellen, I see it's after five o'clock.

Because I'm sitting on Vans' desk.

I always sit here.

Chairs are so uncomfortable, Markham.

And incidentally, how are you?

Incidentally, I'm fine.

Actually, not so good.

Problems?

A problem.

Vans?

Would you help us on a case?

Police are puzzled in mysterious murder.

Not advance.

A man named James Dalton was driving his car this afternoon

when he had an accident.

In the car, where his wife and his two business partners

had Edward's and Bill Gray's.

Dalton was the only one injured.

And an ambulance was called.

That's easy.

The button to do this.

Go on, please, Markham.

My secretary will be applying for unemployment insurance

if she interrupts again.

Well, the ambulance doctor says Dalton was alive

when he gave him a hypodermic and put him in the ambulance.

But he was dead with a knife in his side

when the ambulance arrived.

I don't suppose it could have been suicide

or anybody hiding in the ambulance.

You know better than that or I wouldn't be here, Vans.

No, suicide is out because the man's right arm

was fractured and the knife was in his right side.

There were no fingerprints.

That's all I can tell you because that's all I know.

You said this, Jim Dalton's two partners were within.

Partners in what?

A costume jewelry firm, the Eagle Manufacturing Company.

What do you think, Vans?

Sounds intriguing, doesn't it?

What about your police?

How does Sergeant Heath feel about your coming to me?

Or doesn't he know?

What he means is, can he expect the usual non-cooperation

from the Sergeant?

I'm just daring.

Haven't you a letter to type for something?

The name is Ellen and the answer is no.

Filing perhaps, Miss Jury?

Oh, ganging upon me, eh?

Vans, yes.

If the doctor gave Dalton a hypodermic

just before he placed the poor fellow in the ambulance

and then the ambulance doors were closed,

how could the man have been murdered?

It certainly sounds intriguing, Markham.

And you might be interested to know

I'm working on this case as of this minute.

Oh, he doesn't fool me.

He's taking this case because he knows already who killed Dalton.

On the contrary, Ellen.

I'm taking the case because I haven't even

the slightest idea of how it was done.

Mr. Edwards and Mr. Philo Vans would like to see you.

Yes, sir, right away.

You may go in, that door there.

Thank you.

Mr. Vans?

Yes, Mr. Edwards, I suppose.

How do you do?

How do you do?

And how can I help you, Mr. Vans?

Mr. Edwards, you're one of the partners

of the Eagle Manufacturing Company.

That's right.

I'm investigating the murder of your partner, Jim Dalton.

Well, what do you want of me?

Just some information, that's all.

I'm trying to figure out how he was killed.

I've told all I know to the police,

and all I know is nothing.

I told the cops I had no idea who could have killed him

and I don't.

The police inquired about partnership insurance.

Sure, sure, and we had it.

A lot of it.

But Jim had life insurance, too,

and Mrs. Dalton gets that.

And I...

I didn't tell this to the police,

but the Dalton's haven't been getting on for years.

Well, it seems I'm getting somewhere.

I hope you are.

Do you mind telling me just where you're getting?

Not at all.

I'm getting myself out of your office

and over to see Mrs. James Dalton.

Why don't you stop bothering me?

Why? Haven't I had enough with the police all afternoon?

Mrs. Dalton, I'm not here to bother you or anybody.

I only want to do what I can

to find out how your husband was killed.

And to see that his murderer doesn't go unpunished.

You say the police don't know how the murder was committed.

Well, neither do I.

Edden, Bill and I saw poor Jim last,

but it couldn't be either of them.

They both loved Jim almost as much as I did.

According to them, maybe that wasn't so much.

What?

Well, Mr. Edward seemed to think there might have been trouble

between you and your husband.

He told you that?

All right, there was.

Now I'll tell you something.

They both wanted to get Jim out of the firm.

They needed his money to get them started a year ago,

but they're doing well now and didn't need him at all.

And they hated him. Both of them did.

Why didn't you mention this before, Mrs. Dalton?

Because I didn't believe it.

I didn't know what to believe.

All I wanted was to be let alone.

You haven't been very helpful, Mrs. Dalton.

I believe the murder was the result of coincidence.

How it was done, I don't know.

But somebody wanted to murder your husband

and saw his chance after the accident.

But how could he have been murdered inside an ambulance?

I don't know. I wish I did.

Do you drive a car, Mr. Vance?

What?

A car, do you drive one?

Well, yes, what about it?

Nothing.

Or something, depending on how clever you are.

I drive.

I'm a very good driver.

I'm good at a lot of things.

Does what I've just said mean anything to you?

Frankly, no.

I think you're trying to tell me something,

but I don't get it.

I know only one thing, Mrs. Dalton.

But somewhere along the line,

your husband's murderer made a mistake.

All murderers do.

And my job is to find out what that mistake was.

The Steve always drive this fast, doctor.

Well, ambulances are made for speed, Mr. Vance.

You're not nervous, are you?

Nervous? No.

Anxious.

Anxious to get some information

and then get out of here before we have an accident

and need an ambulance.

Well, you grabbed me just as we got this emergency call, Mr. Vance.

It was your idea to come along, you know?

I know.

The least I should get out of this mercy messenger

which rides more like a roller coaster is some information.

Well, I don't know a thing, Vance.

Nobody seems to know anything on this case.

Doctor, you're interning at the hospital, aren't you?

Yes, part of my training before I go out to practice.

You don't make much money, do you?

That's a pretty stupid question, of course I don't.

And look, Vance.

You're wasting your time with me.

All right, you don't know how this murder was done.

Well, neither do I.

Nobody knows except the murder

and you've got three pretty good suspects, if you ask me.

I wasn't aware that I had asked you, but go ahead.

Well, there's those two partners, Edwards and Graves.

All you have to do is take a look at either one of them

and you'll know he'd think nothing of shoving a knife into somebody.

And they're both smart enough to have figured out a trick way too.

Agreed.

Then take Mrs. Dolan.

I watched her when she came down there to the hospital.

She's a manic depressive, if I ever saw one.

Or has all the symptoms anyhow.

Like a pathic?

Definitely.

Intervals of exaltation and depression, clever mind, superiority complex.

Changes from one subject to another without reason.

And maybe you don't know this.

But manics are potential murders.

Very interesting, Doctor.

Thank you very much.

For getting back to you are not making a lot of money

and that question I asked you, which you thought was stupid.

Yeah?

Maybe it isn't so stupid, Doctor.

Jim Dalton's death meant a lot of money to several people.

One of them might have been willing to spend a little of it on you

to make sure Dalton died.

Wait a minute.

Hello, Bill.

Surprised to see your partner after business hours?

Yeah, yeah.

Kind of.

Come in.

Thanks.

I came by to congratulate you, Bill.

It was a nice clean job you did on our ex partner.

I don't know how you did it.

Frankly, I don't care.

You think I killed him?

I know you did.

Couldn't very well talk about this at the shop.

What with cops and advanced guy hanging around.

But I can now.

So congratulations and thanks.

I could say the same thing to you and mean it more, Ed.

I know you killed Jim.

That's not right, kid.

I don't blame you for not admitting it to me.

We don't like each other and we never did.

But I still say you did a good job.

Look, I don't have to stand for you accusing me of murder.

No, no, that's true.

You don't.

Suppose we sit down and you tell me how you did it.

You get out of here.

And if I don't, what do you do?

Murder me, too?

Well, you dirty.

I'll fix you.

Keep your hands off me.

Get them off.

I'll take care of you later.

Edwards.

Who's there?

Anybody mind?

A bike or man?

Who are you?

Oh.

Hello, Mr. Vance.

Bill and I were just talking.

You know my partner, Bill Graves.

Pralovance.

How do you do?

You mentioned Edwards that you and Graves here were just talking.

I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing.

Even a block away.

Having trouble, boys?

Nothing we need you to fix.

I only dropped in to talk to you a minute, Mr. Graves.

You see, gentlemen, I expect to have a solution of the Dalton murder by morning.

Is it just barely possible that one of you won't sleep so well tonight?

This is District Attorney Markham.

The Eagle murder case is proving one of the most baffling crimes in our records.

Even follow Vance, whom I asked to take the case last evening,

has been able only to corroborate what we already know.

That James Dalton was injured in an auto smash-up.

That his wife and two business partners were in the car, but were unhurt.

That an ambulance doctor administered a hypodermic against Dalton's wishes.

That he was alive when placed in the ambulance,

and dead with a knife in his side when it reached the hospital.

Vance told me he was going to spend last night reading up on the case,

but I haven't any idea what he meant.

No, Miss Deering, I haven't seen Mr. Vance this morning yet.

He must have overslept.

Fine, boss.

Expect the Secretary to open the office for him.

What will bosses think of next?

You're a former, Miss Deering.

Thanks, Johnny.

When Mr. Vance arrives, kindly tell him to go home,

and not to come back without a note from his mother, saying why he was late.

I sure will.

I'm late.

Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear.

Hmm, done locked.

Vance must be getting forgetful.

Wow!

What?

Hit this place of cyclone.

And first asleep in my chair.

Mr. Vance.

Vance.

Darling.

Oh, hello, Ellen.

Good morning, Mr. Vance.

I trust you slept well in my chair all night.

What happened here?

It looks like a literary version of a pillow fight

who has been throwing books around.

I have.

Let us, I haven't been throwing them around.

I've been reading them.

All night?

Practically.

Very interesting books.

Psychiatric studies.

Psychiatric.

Mental cases, Miss Deering.

Preparing an autobiography, Vance.

Missed, Vance.

It's after nine o'clock, remember.

And the answer to your question is no.

I've been doing some very interesting

if as yet unproductive research.

Take a letter, Miss Deering.

I will if you let me borrow my chair and death.

Sorry.

Here you are.

Sit down.

Thank you.

And now, Mr. Vance.

Letter to FX Markham, district attorney.

Usual heading, dear, so and so.

Dear district or dear attorney.

Dear Frank.

Here are the facts I've uncovered in the Dalton murder.

Got it. Go ahead.

I wish I could.

I haven't even a theory.

Well, that's just as well, because I can't take theories.

In short hand.

Let's see.

The ambulance doctor could have killed Dalton.

Edwards might have.

Graves might have.

And Mrs. Dalton might have.

But how, how, how?

Going to Rutton's advance.

I'm in a dilemma, Miss Deering.

All four had possible motives.

But none of them had any opportunity to stab Dalton

inside that ambulance.

Not even the ambulance doctor.

He wouldn't have had time enough.

Apparently, it was impossible for anyone to stab Dalton

after he was put in the ambulance.

So...

Ellen.

Miss Deering, please.

Ellen, I've got it.

What?

Dalton wasn't stabbed after he was put in the ambulance.

He was stabbed before.

Before?

Ellen, get this picture.

Dalton is on a stretcher.

He's just had a hypodermic.

He's just about to pass out.

His two partners run one side of the stretcher.

His wife on the other.

Just his Dalton has lapsing into a coma.

One of them sticks the knife in him.

Bancid could have happened that way.

Listen, it could have been done without anyone seeing it, too.

Ellen, that's it.

Well, maybe, but it only eliminates the ambulance doctor.

That's all.

That's right.

Let's take the partners.

Edwards and Graves have violent tempers.

They were almost at each other's throats when I saw them yesterday.

Mrs. Dalton, unless the ambulance doctor and I are very much mistaken,

is a manic depressive.

Who it, what it?

Manic depressive.

Oh.

A form of psychopathic instability.

She's got some of the symptoms,

jumps from one subject to another for no reason,

overdeveloped sense of superiority, morbid, depressed.

That's when I was reading up on last night.

And are manic go, whatever they are, murderous?

They could be, according to what I've read about them.

They can be switched away from murder, though,

to another thought in a second.

Maybe Mrs. Dalton forgot to throw the switch.

Maybe.

But it might not have been Mrs. Dalton at all.

Dalton was stabbed in the right side.

We know now he was stabbed just before he was put into the ambulance.

Whoever was on the right side of the stretcher did the stabbing.

Bands you're wonderful.

I'll never commit a murder while you're alive.

Thanks.

You may now tear up your notes, Miss Deering,

and get Mr. Markham on the telephone.

Ask him to please have everybody concerned

in the same place on the same corner

where the accident happened yesterday.

Sure, Mr. Bands.

This is just the way it was.

The ambulance was parked right there where it is now.

Only that was a crowd around.

At the dock of the drive, I had the stretcher in their hands

just the way they have now.

Thanks, officer.

Look, Bands, you know this is a lot of nonsense, don't you?

Maybe you're going to wish it was, Mr. Edwards.

Maybe you're going to wish you hadn't started any of this, Bands.

Somebody's going to wish that, but it won't be me, Mr. Graves.

Mrs. Dalton.

I'm here, Mr. Bands.

Now, listen, all three of you.

I want you to take the positions alongside the stretcher

that you were in yesterday.

Now, please.

Doctor.

Oh, yes, Mr. Bands.

You were carrying the back end of the stretcher

just as you were doing now.

Exactly, sir.

Okay.

Now, Mrs. Dalton.

Yes.

And you, Graves and Edwards.

Yeah.

Is that the position you were in yesterday

while the stretcher was being carried to the ambulance?

Mrs. Dalton on the right side, and the man on the left?

Yeah, I'm sorry.

Please, that's right.

You'll remember, Mr. Dalton was stabbed in the right side.

Did you get that?

The right side.

Wait, wait.

I wasn't on the right side at all.

I was on the other side of the stretcher.

I walked alongside the stretcher on the other side

where Edwards and Graves are now.

Now, James, crazy, Bands.

We were on the left side, Bill, and I hardly bailed.

Don't listen to them.

They're trying to make it look like I killed my husband.

I was on his left side.

I swear it.

Doctor, please, you must remember.

You must believe me.

I swear to you, I was standing on the left side of the stretcher.

What about it, Doctor?

I... I think she's right, that.

Yes, I'm sure of it.

When we were putting Dalton into the ambulance,

Steve had the head part of the stretcher,

and I had the foot part, and yes, I remember Mrs. Dalton on my left.

You're sure you were there on the left side, Mrs. Dalton?

I'm positive.

Edwards and Graves were on the right side.

And that proves they murdered my husband.

On the contrary, Mrs. Dalton.

It proves that you did.

She knew what Mr. Bands did.

So you figured that out, did you, Mr. Bands?

All right, nobody move.

Nobody, I said.

She's not a doctor.

I've gone of yours.

I'd be careful if I were you, Mrs. Dalton.

I'd be more careful if I were you, Mr. Bands.

Or any of you.

Turn around.

All of you, turn around, I said.

That's better.

I'm getting away from here,

and I'll shoot the first one that turns his head.

Remember, I'll shoot the first one that moves.

What will we do, Mr. Bands?

You can make your own plans, officer.

Personally, I am not moving.

Ah!

Hello, Bands speaking.

Bands, this is Markham.

I just wanted to tell you that we haven't been able to pick up Mrs. Dalton yet.

You will.

She can't get very far.

Don't you worry. Don't you think she'll try to kill you?

Draw you spoiled or perfect murder.

She won't come up here, Markham.

Her first job is to keep out of the way of the police.

She won't waste time looking for revenge.

Good night, Markham.

Good night.

I'll let you know if anything happens.

So I won't waste time looking for revenge, Mr. Bands.

I don't consider it a waste of time.

I don't know a better way to spend the next few minutes than to use it, killing you.

No, Mrs. Dalton.

Pretty gun you have there.

You don't fool me any with that unconcerned way of talking.

I'm going to kill you, and you know it.

You know, of course, that people who are going to commit murder don't generally talk to their victims.

They just shoot.

I don't care about people, generally.

I'm an individual.

Smart enough to have committed murder and gotten away with it if it hadn't been for you.

And smart enough to have slipped in here.

Kill you, and still get it away.

It wouldn't do any good for me to say I don't think so.

Not a bit.

I didn't think so, but it was worth a try.

Your hands are shaking, Mrs. Dalton.

There is steady as a rock, and you know it.

I have complete control over my nerves.

Manic depressive.

Exactly what I thought.

Overdeveloped sense of superiority.

Manic depressive.

Certainly all the symptoms.

You're insane, you know.

What?

Oh, it's true.

Manic depressive.

Singleness of thought on one subject.

Can't get it out of her mind.

Acute concentration.

You mean if I came here to kill you, I couldn't change my mind.

You couldn't even talk about anything else.

Questions, for instance.

What about fashions?

That dress you're wearing.

It's an original.

I designed it.

You know, at first I wondered it to have pleats down the right side.

See?

I can't talk about something else.

I'm not insane.

I'm not, I tell you.

I hear you, Mrs. Dalton.

This dress is my favorite.

I designed it first with pleats on the side.

I'll show you how it would look with them, but you won't like it.

I'd plan them down here.

I won't need this gun.

And you can see for yourself that it throws the lines of the dress off.

There.

I admit it.

The pleats wouldn't be right, would they?

Your gun's on the floor, Mrs. Dalton.

Of course it is. I threw it there.

Those pleats then.

They wouldn't be right, would they?

They wouldn't really be right, would they?

Mr. Vance, those pleats wouldn't be right, would they?

Answer me.

In a second, Mrs. Dalton, as soon as I pick up your gun.

There.

Now about the pleats.

I'll tell you what I think about them on the way downtown.

You won't answer me.

You tricked me.

I came up here to kill you and you tricked me.

But it doesn't matter.

You can take me to the police, but I'll find a way of getting out of jail.

I'm clever. Believe me, I can do it.

Thank you.

Well, the sooner we get you into jail, the sooner you can try.

Shall we go, Mrs. Dalton?

It's still a few minutes to nine, Vance.

So before we get down to business, will you clean up a point or two for me?

About the Dalton murder, Ellen?

Well, if I can before nine o'clock, I will.

Well, that's her event.

When Mrs. Dalton came up to your apartment to murder you last night,

what made her change her mind?

The characteristics of a manic depressive, Ellen, they can be led easily from one subject to another.

I told her that she was a manic, but I lied a little.

I said, Manics couldn't ever change their minds.

Oh, so to prove to herself and you that she wasn't crazy.

She did exactly what you wanted to do.

Forgot about murder, to talk about something else.

Not knowing she was proving your point.

Not to mention saving my life.

Anything else, young lady?

Oh, it's nearing now and I can tell by your voice.

One other question, Vance.

Let's go back to the murder scene.

Now you told me that whoever stabbed Dalton had to be on his right side.

Yet Mrs. Dalton was on the left side of the stretcher.

Let's correct, Ellen.

Now look, this desk is a stretcher.

Yes.

I'm lying on it.

Now, where's my right side?

On the right side of the desk.

That proves that Mrs. Dalton didn't do it.

On the contrary, you see poor Jim Dalton wasn't lying on the stretcher the way I'm lying on the desk.

His head was at the top of the stretcher where my feet are.

I'll show you what I mean.

I'll reverse my position.

There.

Oh, golly.

When he was on the stretcher, I'm like, you are now.

His right side was on the left side of the stretcher.

Certainly.

Mrs. Dalton saw what I was getting at.

New I had her cornered, pulled her gun, and got away temporarily.

Darling, you're wonderful.

I don't think so, but then what's my opinion against so many other people's?

Take a letter, Ellen Dalton.

Uh-uh.

You mean misteering?

It's afternoon o'clock.

So it is.

Take a letter, Miss Deering.

Yes, Mr. Dance.

Dear Ellen, this winds up the Eagle murder case.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

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