The Falcon - The Case Of The Careless Corpse

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Hello.

Yes, this is the Falcon speaking.

Over Jr.

I'm glad you called.

Now you let the cancel me out tonight, Angelou.

Army intelligence is flying me to Berlin.

Yeah, I seem some boy there set up a murder that is pretty as a picture and they figure

out look good in the frame.

The adventures of the Falcon dedicated to private investigators everywhere.

Those hard-hitting detectives who like Mike Wearing risk their lives to aid law enforcement

agencies.

So join him now when the Falcon solves the case of the careless corpse.

There's one nice thing you can say about Wearing

For Army intelligence.

You certainly get around.

How else would a guy like me get to see such wonderful places like Berlin?

And these are interesting people like Maxel Oppenheimer.

In just in case you're curious, Maxel is a cute looking character in the tight-fitting

green suit and the grey gloves surveying the crowd at the Europa.

A sidewalk cafe near the Willemstrasse.

To look at him, you think he didn't have a care in the world and you'd do right.

Maxel lets the next man do the warring.

I have Christopher.

Imagine finding you here.

You'll let Maxel.

I could not help myself.

I received your message at five o'clock.

No line.

Schnabel told me he spoke to you at noon.

I never can hide things from you.

Can I, Christopher?

Sit down.

Schnabel told you about your assignment.

He started to, but I prefer to get my instructions first hand.

This way there's no chance of a misunderstanding.

An American intelligence officer named Michael Wearing arrives from Madrid this evening.

He has an appointment tomorrow morning with Professor Heinrich Schiller.

The expert on walking?

Yes.

It would be in the best interests of the Communist Party of that appointment.

I never kept.

I think it can be arranged.

Where does the hair of his alive?

At 14 Leopold Strasse with his wife, Margot.

Margot?

She's an American.

What an amazing coincidence.

Here, Professor Schiller, a German, is married to an American.

And you an American, a married to a German.

Suppose we leave my personal life out of this.

Yes, of course.

You are to introduce yourself to Schiller as an agent of American intelligence.

You find all the necessary credentials in this wallet.

Tell him Wearing sent you around to pick him up.

So have what you like to have him delivered?

To the bakery.

And Leopold Strasse.

I'll try to make arrangements to smuggle him into East Berlin on Wednesday.

I'll be only too happy to look after him till then.

I don't want to hurt Maxwell.

I could use to find never once entered my mind.

I mean it.

Professor Schiller can be very useful to the party.

I wouldn't touch a hair on his head.

Unless, of course, it was absolutely necessary.

I'm warning you, Maxwell.

I only meant I would resort to violence, purely as a last resort.

You and I were ready to sacrifice my desires for the party.

I hope the hair professor will be as cooperative.

Yes?

Excuse me.

Would you like very much to see how Professor Heiner Schiller?

Of course.

I'm Fras Schiller.

Won't you come in?

Don't get your very kind.

Well, whom shall I say his calling?

Permit me?

Maxwell Oppenheimer.

United States Army Intelligence.

What do you want with my husband?

Well, naturally, we are very interested in his experiments with our kids.

Naturally.

But when he was in a concentration camp, who cared?

You say that with a great deal of bitterness.

Why can't you leave us alone?

Everybody wants to use him.

First the Nazis.

Now you people end the communists.

Oh, Schiller.

Hasn't he suffered enough?

Why don't you stop bothering him?

I'm sure the hair professor does not feel this way.

If I could have a word with him.

He is not home.

It's very strange.

I spoke to Mr. Taylor for not more than a hour.

Yes?

Is there someone to see me now?

Hair professor Schiller, I believe.

Yes?

I'm Maxwell Oppenheimer.

Your lovely wife told me you were out.

Why, Margaux?

Because they're all the same.

They're all trying to use you.

They just want to pick your brains.

Oh, please, Liebchen.

What will our guests think?

I don't care what he thinks.

I must apologize for my wife, Hair Oppenheimer.

But ever since I was released from the house, she's most concerned for me.

It's very understandable.

Well, Hair Rowing is waiting for us.

Shall we go?

Of course.

No.

No, I won't let you.

You're going to stay out of this, Heinrich.

This is none of your concern.

Now, Liebchen, you are upsetting us.

I won't you if you go with him.

Don't expect to find me here when you come back.

You're talking like a child.

I mean it.

You'll never see me again.

Never.

All right, Hair Oppenheimer.

If you're ready, I beg your name.

I'll feed us, then, Liebchen.

Then, Liebchen.

Oh, Heinrich.

Heinrich.

I believe this is the one.

Yes.

If you wait till I turn on the lights, there we are.

It'd be so good as to enter.

Thank you.

I know it isn't much, but please try to make yourself comfortable.

I find this very strange Hair Oppenheimer.

You don't like my room, Professor?

Well, it is hardly what I expected.

You mean the bakery in front?

Yes.

We think it's very dramatic.

Who'd ever suspect such a polar theory and establishment?

But where is the hair wearing?

The gentleman I was supposed to meet.

Oh, yes.

He'll be here in a few minutes.

In the meantime, perhaps, a little snob.

No, thank you.

Hair Oppenheimer.

My friends call me Max.

May I see your credent roots?

Isn't this also late?

May I see them, please?

Suppose they do not meet with your approval.

That would complicate matters.

If hair wedding arrives, you dust the tap of Esa.

You're not thinking of leaving?

Yes.

If I were offended you in any way,

little, be good enough to open this door.

I wish you didn't feel like this, because you leave me no choice.

Put away that gun.

Doesn't it frighten you?

No.

Not even a little bit.

Are you going to open this door?

You know, Professor, I admire men of spirit.

They offer a challenge.

I can never resist.

Oh, never.

How do you feel, Professor?

I'm so sorry.

I guess it proves there must be something

to famine and intuition.

Remember, your wife said, if you left with me,

you'd never see her again.

When she was absolutely right.

Oh!

Second.

Hello.

I'm looking for my querying.

Well, you picked the best possible place.

Come in.

Thank you.

Is he angry with me?

Who angry with you?

My husband.

He should have known I never meant what I said.

You mind if we take this from the top of the page?

I'm a little confused.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I should have introduced myself.

I'm Margot Schiller.

Margot Schiller.

Wait a minute.

You're not Professor Heinrich Schiller's wife.

Yes.

Well, what do you know?

Sit down.

Oh, thank you.

I knew he was married, but I assumed it was to a German.

What?

Didn't your assistant tell you?

My assistant.

The little man you sent to pick up Heinrich,

the one in the green suit.

When was this?

You did send someone.

Now look, Mr. Schiller.

Well, didn't you?

No, I just got into Berlin an hour ago.

What do you use your name?

I must have been a leak.

Your life.

You've hidden him somewhere.

I know better.

But then what happened to him?

He was supposed to meet you.

Not till tomorrow.

He was kidnapped.

There's some afraid so.

Now, this man who came for you.

I'll kill him.

No, they won't.

They wouldn't dare.

Why?

Are you going to stop them?

Oh, why couldn't you leave us alone?

Now, look, Mrs. Schiller.

I know you're upset.

Let me take your home.

No, please.

And I promise you, we'll get your husband back.

You promise me.

Now, I know how you feel, but give us a chance anyway.

Now, let me drive you home.

I'll get to work on it right away.

So much for you, now.

We, we.

We, we, but is.

Boy in heaven.

His awful eyes.

Who is it?

Hello, Maxwell.

Just a moment.

Hello, Christopher.

What is it?

I heard.

Professor Schoen.

Oh, he ends up at home.

That's all right.

But of course, we spend a very enjoyable evening.

We've got to get him into the Soviet zone immediately.

I thought you said we'd move him Wednesday.

We can't wait.

American intelligence is all in the house to help.

It's the matter with him.

Nothing?

He's covered with blood.

Oh, I can explain that Christopher.

He had a little accident.

He walked.

He tripped over that table.

It was very down.

Sure.

I think he's asleep.

You stupid blundering fool.

He's dead.

You must be mistaken, Christopher.

Hey, Professor.

You killed him.

No, no, I gave you my word.

I told you not to touch me.

I told you not to touch me.

I shouldn't have done that, Christopher.

But I forgive you.

You forgive me.

What do you think Moscow will say about this?

You wouldn't report me.

Wouldn't I?

Please, Christopher.

I know I've been a terrible disappointment to you.

But if you give me another chance, I may surprise you yet.

So, like I say in Time magazine, deaths came for her Professor Schiller at the ripe old age of 42.

But the first time you were with some six hours later when I received a call from the West Berlin police.

Yet Mr. Body out of the spree and I thought I might be interested.

I was.

And I remember the promise I made to Margot Schiller.

And I thought if I couldn't return her husband, sound of wind and limb.

At least I could do to show myself.

I figured it would be a mighty poor substitute.

Oh, Mr. Wearing.

May I come in?

Did you find him?

Yes.

Well, where is he?

You said the minute you did you bring him home.

I know.

But in white, he isn't dead.

Yes, he is.

I knew it.

I knew it had to end this way.

Oh, why couldn't you leave us alone?

You don't understand.

I understand that my husband's dead, isn't that enough?

And you feel very sponsored.

Yes, I do.

He was a scientist.

You had no right to involve him in cheap politics.

This isn't cheap politics, Mr. Schiller.

Well, fighting people to whom decency means nothing.

Your husband's murder proves that.

He was killed by common-form agents while I promised you...

You promised me that you would bring him back safe and sound.

I know, but he was dead when I said that.

Now, this man who claimed to be my assistant.

What name did he use?

I don't remember.

But what did he look like?

I can't remember that either.

I don't think you're trying.

You're absolutely right.

Don't you want to see your husband's murder avenge?

It will be, Mr. Wearing.

But I intend to take care of it myself.

And now, if you forgive me, I think I would like to be alone for a while.

Yes.

Yes.

I would like very much to speak with Frau Margot Schiller, please.

This is she.

Forgive me for disturbing you at a time like this for our Schiller.

But I have just read of the unfortunate death of your husband.

Permit me to extend my condolences.

But who is this?

You do not know me, but.

I feel I can be of some service.

Would you be interested in knowing the man was responsible for the hair professor's murder?

What?

Please do not think me a crank.

I'm really well informed.

Your husband was kidnapped by a little man named Maxer Oppenheimer.

How do you know that?

Are you convinced I'm not a crank?

Yes.

Well, the murder was ordered by an American named Vincent Christopher.

Vincent Christopher?

Yes.

And from what I've heard of your affection for your husband, I am sure you will put this information to excellent use.

Good hunting, Frau Schiller.

Operator.

Operator.

Your order, please.

I gave my order 20 minutes ago.

This is Mr. Christopher, sweet foray.

Asked you to get me grenadier, 413.

I wish to speak to Maxel Oppenheimer.

I'm sorry, Mr. Christopher, but that number does not answer.

That's impossible. Try it again.

Shall I ring your back?

No, I'll hang on.

Sat you Gabrielle?

Where have you been?

I told you.

I told you.

Your Christopher is there something wrong?

Yeah, Christopher.

Well, Mr. Schiller.

You know, this is getting to be ridiculous, Mr. Ware.

I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. Can you spare me a couple of minutes?

What's the point I've already told you everything I know?

Well, maybe this time I can tell you something.

All right, come in.

Sit down.

Thank you.

Did you ever hear of a man named Vincent Christopher?

Should I?

I hope not. He was shot to death an hour ago at the Kaiser Wilhelm.

And going through his room, the police found these papers.

Would you care to look at them?

Not particularly.

Well, he definitely established that Christopher was the number one man in the Communist apparatus and West Berlin.

So?

So there's no doubt he was responsible for your husband's kidnapping, if not his death.

I see your point.

And now with Mr. Christopher's murder, I become the most obvious suspect.

Yes.

But this all assumes that I knew who Christopher was.

Someone might have tipped you off.

Who, for example?

That's what I intend to find out.

Well, I wish you luck.

But there's one thing that puzzles me.

Just what side are you on? According to you, Christopher will a Communist.

It doesn't justify his murder.

That's one of the differences between the reds and ourselves.

So you intend to find his killer?

Yes, I do.

Well, probably it for me to keep you from your self-appointed task.

Good day, Mr. Wearing.

I hope never to hear from you again.

Who is it?

Who is it?

Hello, Gabrielle.

What are you doing here, Maxu?

I just heard about poor Christopher and naturally I came immediately.

That was very foolish.

He was my friend.

I wouldn't hear right if I failed to pay my respects to his widow.

I'm sure he would have been happy to do as much for me.

Would you happen to have a cigarette?

You find some in that container.

Ah, Christopher's favorite band. He was so fond of them.

You had better leave, Maxu. The police were here all afternoon. They may return.

But I have nothing to hide.

I wonder if you can say as much.

Eh? I have a feeling you are not overly fond of your husband.

You are insane.

Please don't misunderstand me, Gabrielle. I don't blame you on the least.

Vincent was very difficult.

I remember one night as a theatre when he struck you for forgetting the tickets.

My heart went out to you.

Don't push.

It's true.

And very fond of you, Gabrielle.

I feel I owe you a great deal.

You may just as easily have told Fauchiller I was responsible for her husband's death.

What are you talking about?

The idea friend of mine operates a switchboard in the hotel here.

And for it she was guilty of eavesdropping.

Yes, she heard you telephone Fauchiller.

Is that all you have to say?

Oh, no, I have lots more.

Well, I'm not interested in hearing it.

I wish it wouldn't take that attitude, Gabrielle.

We should be kind to one another.

As Christopher's widow, you have so much.

And I have so little.

Are you attempting to blackmail me?

It isn't as I wanted a great deal.

50,000 marks, which you'd be fine.

Get out.

I think I'm being very reasonable.

I said get out.

You know, it's a funny thing, but your husband did that to me.

Then the poor fellow was killed.

I do hope you would have better luck.

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Intelligence Major Thornhill speaking.

What is the possible for me to talk with him, Michael Wearing?

Well, I don't see why not.

Hey, Mike.

Yeah.

For you.

Who is it?

He didn't say.

Hello?

Care Wearing?

That's right.

Who's this?

I don't believe my name would mean anything to you.

But try me.

I would as a nut.

You wouldn't be Maxel Oppenheimer.

Maxel Oppenheimer?

I never heard of the gentlemen.

You don't know what you're missing.

I've just been going through Vincent Christopher's diary.

Oh.

Yes, he thought very highly of your talents.

He liked me.

How about everybody does?

Did you kill him?

Of course not.

And Christopher, you didn't?

Well, he was mistaken.

Yes, I'll bet.

At me, Jim.

Yeah.

And with Comrade Maxel on the wire, try to run it down.

We'll do.

You're wearing?

Yeah.

I hope you're not being so childish as to attempt to trace this call.

Oh, never want to end with my mind.

There's a call on me.

All right.

What can I do for you, Maxel?

Nothing.

But I would like to do something for you.

Why?

It's my nature.

Would you be interested in the name of the party who informed Margot Shiller?

Was that Christopher was responsible for my husband's day?

Definitely.

It was Christopher's wife, Gabrielle.

You know, crazy.

Why should she do that?

Can you think of a better way to get rid of an unwanted husband?

You might have a point there.

If I'd been of any service, I'm delighted.

Oh, Maxel.

Maxel.

Did he hang up?

Yeah.

Were you able to run it down?

Nope.

That's tough.

Well, if anyone else calls, tell him I've gone over to see Frau Christopher.

I hate to stick my neck up, and I'll lay you six to five.

This is in the bag.

Yes.

Frau Christopher.

That is correct.

Glad to know you.

I'm Mike Wearing.

Mike Wearing?

Yes, I'm investigating your husband's murder for the American authorities.

Oh.

Won't you come in?

Thank you.

Please make yourself comfortable.

I don't mind if I do.

And I all feel a doing.

Well, being Irish, I'll take some Jameson's if you have it.

I have it.

Do you feel up to answering a few questions?

Of course.

Thanks.

Were you aware of her Christopher's political activities?

Political activities.

He was a writer.

Well, I was just a blind.

Actually, he was headman in the Communist cell in West Berlin.

But seems incredible.

He didn't confide much in you, did he?

No.

Tell me something, Herr Wearing.

Vincent was, as you say, a communist.

He was.

Then he was your enemy.

Why are you so determined to solve this murder?

Well, I know it sounds ironic, but that's how we do things in a democracy.

Anyway, I've got a piece of a theory I'd like to try on you for size.

Well?

I'll suppose someone who hated your husband figured Professor Schiller's death was a heaven sent opportunity.

I do not see how.

Well, all this party would have to do is inform Margot Schiller that your husband was responsible for her husband's death.

But who would do such a horrible thing?

What's your guess?

Max Oppenheimer.

It certainly is a small world.

You thought of him, too?

No, Max will thought of you.

I do not understand.

I'm sure you're doing whom?

You were the one who tipped off Margot Schiller.

But you couldn't depend on us or do anything about it.

So as the saying goes, you took matters into your own hands.

You think I keep Vincent?

Well, I didn't think it was that funny.

But it is.

However, I would not tell it to the brilliant police.

Oh, why not?

Well, at four o'clock, Vincent was shot.

I was at the chancellery being interviewed by an officer named Hans Gerhardt.

Which to renew my driver's permit?

But if you were at the chancellery...

Obviously, I could not be here at the hotel murdering my husband.

Still, it was the most ingenious theory, however,

trope by again, if you ever think of another.

So, for 999th time, I learned what it means to fall flat on your face.

And after Gabrielle Christopher pulled a rug from under me,

I picked myself up and took a stroll on Unto Den Lindenland.

When I didn't find inspiration there, I made for the nearest phone booth.

And dialed American intelligence.

Unlike Shakespeare, I hoped there was something in a name.

You can tell it in this major thumbnail speaking.

Oh, Tony, this is Mike Waring.

Well, where the devil have you been?

Out commuting with nature.

Well, hustle back here as fast as you can.

We just picked up Max Lopinheimer.

Wonderful.

That's so wonderful he refuses to talk.

Well, maybe he needs lessons.

Huh?

Suppose we can fund him with Marco Schiller.

If she identifies him as the man who kidnapped your husband, that might do the trick.

Say it might at that.

And we'll keep your fingers crossed so soon.

I'll make it as fast as I can.

Let's see if I understand you, Mr. Waring.

You think if I identify this Max Lopinheimer, it might induce him to confess.

It might.

Well, you don't seem too confident.

Well, I was originally, but now I'm beset by doubts.

I can see Max from admitting to your husband's murder, but not to Christopher's.

Why not?

For the obvious reason.

He didn't do it.

Within who did?

Well, that's the question of the hour.

You know, we discovered who tipped you off.

The Christopher was a man responsible for your husband's kidnapping.

Who?

His wife, Gabrielle.

Well, that doesn't make sense.

Sure does.

She wanted to get rid of him, and she figured if you knew his name, you'd take care of it for him.

But you must be insane.

No, as a matter of fact, she's pretty clever, because that's exactly what did happen.

Are you suggesting?

Yes, I am.

Why didn't you let her do her own dirty work, Margot?

That weight would have been easier on all of us.

All right, Angel, let's go.

Well, they just called for Paris Express passengers, Mike.

I guess that means me, Major.

Yeah, I guess it does.

I know that you're happy to see me go.

Well, I would have been happier if you never stopped buying the first place.

Did you have to nail Margot Schiller for Christopher's murder?

Was my job thrown in?

Well, I couldn't have been one of the others.

I wish it had been two, but that's life for him.

Every once in a while, the only decent actor in the car has to be its.

Believe me, I'm as sorry as you are that this was one of them.

So long, Major.

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