Episode #57 - The musty corridors of Collinwood are behind me at the moment--ahead of me are the streets of Collinsport itself--and a journey that might take me into the dead world of the past--a journey that I hope will start in a small restaurant on the main street of this very small town.
Maggie clears the dishes from a table and greets Burke, asking where he's been hiding. My hotel room, he says--seems I had 10 years of correspondence to catch up on--coffee, please? What are you doing? she asks, pouring coffee--running that international empire of yours from your hotel room? It's better than sitting around stewing about a missing man, he says--you know what I was thinking about up there?--he sips his coffee--I was thinking it was really Bill Malloy who gave me my start--when I was a kid, worked for him on the boats--he always taught me to never be afraid to take chances--he always used to say, "Don't be afraid to climb up to the top of the mast--the worst thing that could happen is that you'll fall off, into the water"--you know what I did? Fell in the water? guesses Maggie, grinning. Yes, he says, but the second time I made it to the top--he's quite a guy--best in the world. Yes, I always liked him, says Maggie. When he gets back, says Burke, I'm going to buy him the biggest, best meal he's ever had in his life. Burke, haven't you heard the news? asks Maggie
--the coast guard just pulled his body out of the water an hour ago--he's dead. Burke looks stunned.
Burke, on the phone in the restaurant, is trying to speak to the sheriff--can you tell me anything about Malloy?--is his deputy there?--when they come in, tell them either to call me--Burke Devlin--I'm in the hotel restaurant, and I'd like to speak to them--that's right--he hangs up and returns to Maggie. Did you learn anything? she asks. No, he says, frustrated--the sheriff isn't there, and the guy there doesn't know anything, or he's been told not to say anything--it's the same thing--Bill Malloy, dead--hard to believe. I'll get you some hot coffee, offers Maggie. Funny thing, says Burke--I half expected something like this, but now that it's happened--thanks. I'm sorry I broke it to you that way, she says. He was a rare man, says Burke--one of the very few honest people I've ever met in my life--I guess that's why he's dead. You talk about honesty as if it were a disease, points out Maggie. It can be, sometimes, says Burke--sometimes you want to be fair, straightforward--SAY what's on your mind--people don't care what you have to say. You sound as if you think he was murdered, says Maggie. Most people in this world want to grab what they can get, says Burke--yeah, that includes me, I'm no exception--people like that end up on top, the big hero--then someone like Bill Malloy, who's only looking for truth and honesty--he ends up with his face down in the water. I can't agree with that, says Maggie--honesty didn't kill him, it was something a lot more simple than that--like the fact that he never learned how to swim--he fell in the water and drowned--that's all. Do you know that for a fact? demands Burke. How else could it have happened? she asks. Does your father know Bill's body has been found? asks Burke. Yes, says Maggie. And I suppose he was as shocked as I was, says Burke. Pop took it pretty hard, she says--they became good friends while you were away. They did, huh? asks Burke. Maggie rests her face on her hands and asks if he remembers all the laughs they used to have when he came to the house. That was a long time ago, says Burke. Good times, Burke--all of us, she says. He squeezes her hand and says he's trying the sheriff again. If Malloy didn't just drown, what do you think DID happen? asks Maggie. I told you, he had a fatal disease--honesty, says Burke, and heads out of the restaurant. Maggie stands, deep in thought. Vicki enters and greets her, and Maggie says a dispirited hi. Is that the best you can do? asks Vicki--here I come into town to have a nice lunch with you, and what do I find?--you act as if you couldn't care less. It isn't a very cheery day, says Maggie. You know about Bill Malloy--pretty awful, remarks Vicki. What do they at Collinwood think happened? Maggie asks. Burke enters the restaurant and says the sheriff wasn't there, and the deputy doesn't know, either--hi, Vicki--what are you doing down from your ivory tower? I came for lunch, says Vicki, unbuttoning her coat--how are you, Burke? I've felt better, he says--have you heard about Bill Malloy? We were just talking about it, says Vicki. I guess they're doing a lot of talking about it up at Collinwood, says Burke. It's terrible, says Vicki--Mrs. Stoddard and Carolyn were very fond of him. And Roger Collins, says Burke--how did he take the news? asks Burke. What would you expect, says Vicki, he was very upset. I'll bet, says Burke bitterly. What makes you say that? asks Vicki--it was even his idea to close down the plant for the day. That was thoughtful of him, says Burke sarcastically, I suppose he also suggested an elegant marble memorial over Bill's grave?--to the death of honesty--if the sheriff calls, tell him I'm on my way. He leaves. What did he mean by hat? asks Vicki. I'm much happier not thinking about it, says Maggie,. I know he said he'd be here, Mr. Patterson, says Maggie into the phone, but Burke left a minute ago--said he was going to your office--tell me, what was the cause of Mr. Malloy's death--do you know yet? Vicki, sitting at a table, listens closely. No, continues Maggie, it's just curiosity--OK, so I won't ask any questions--I'll read about it in the newspaper--does that suit you?--yes, sir, Mr. Sheriff--just don't ask me the secret of my lousy coffee--I can be just as closed-mouthed as you can--OK, goodbye. She hangs up. You came in here for some lunch, says Maggie, bringing her pad over to Vicki's table--what will it be--clam chowder, lobster roll, hamburger--you name it, we've got it! Why did Burke act that way about Bill Malloy's death? asks Vicki. I thought we weren't going to talk about it, Maggie reminds her. It was so strange, says Vicki, almost as though--the way he spoke about Mr. Collins--the tone of his voice--it was almost as though he thought Mr. Collins wasn't sorry Bill Malloy drowned. Enough of this, says Maggie, sitting at the table with her--you have a whole afternoon off, and all we can talk about is death. It's not an easy thing to forget, says Vicki. I know one way to do it, says Maggie--something I told you about the first night you came in here--do you remember it? You told me to get on the next train and go back where I came from, says Vicki, smiling. I'll bet you're sorry now you didn't take my advice, says Maggie. I almost did, a couple of times, admits Vicki. Ever since I was a kid, says Maggie, I've been afraid of that big house up on the hill--and that night when you came in here and told me you were going there to work--I didn't even know you and I called you a jerk--maybe now that I do know you, I can find some better words. It's just a house, insists Vicki--oh, it's a big, dark house with lots of rooms, but that's all. And ghosts, adds Maggie, and a kooky kid--and a woman who hasn't been out of that house in 18 years--don't tell me that hasn't scared you at all. I have a job, says Vicki, looking down, I work for that family. So did Bill Malloy, Maggie reminds her, and look what happened to him!--all I'm trying to say is that it doesn't make sense for a nice gal like you to bury yourself in that spooky joint. I have to, says Vicki. Why--do they chain you to the beds every night? asks Maggie. (Hmmm, odd.) I came to Collinsport to find some answers about my past, says Vicki earnestly, and I'm not going to leave until I believe there aren't any answers.
Answers from whom? asks Maggie. Among other people, says Vicki--your father.
Sam Evans, Harry, says Sheriff Patterson into the phone, sitting at his desk and fiddling with his gun--keep an eye on him so I know where he is--I don't think he has a reason to run, I just don't want to waste time looking for him if I have to find him--and try not be so obvious about it, will you?--what about the tide charts, are the ready yet?--you bet I do, ASAP--oh, who?--oh, well, send him in--right, and Harry, call the Doc and see if he's finished the autopsy yet. Come in, Patterson greets Burke, Maggie told me you were on your way over--I'm as anxious to see you as you are to see me--have a seat. Burke doesn't sit, but asks what the story is on Malloy. Only that the coast guard has recovered his body, says Patterson. I want to know the cause of his death, insists Burke--that's the only information I want! That's more than I've got, says Patterson, Doc is working on the autopsy right now. How long will that take? asks Burke. Why, are you in a rush--are you planning on going someplace? asks Patterson. No, says Burke. I'm glad to hear that, says Patterson, because I'd kind of like you to stick around for a while--right here in town until this little business is cleared up. You couldn't get me to leave, Burke assures him, I've got a lot of questions to ask! Well, says Patterson, you wouldn't be trying to handle my job for me, would you--if you are, do me a favor--don't!--the phone rings and he jots down notes--yeah, I've got that--he did, huh?--OK, and that's it, huh?--OK, thanks a lot--I'm afraid you'll have to--four copies--that's right, we can't afford the paperwork. He hangs up. Autopsy report? asks Burke. Yup, says Patterson--sit down. What did he say? demands Burke, still standing. Sit down, would ya? orders the sheriff. Burke finally sits.
Patterson takes a cup of water from the water cooler in his office. Burke asks him what all that paperwork is. We'll get to that, says Patterson, first things first--want some water? No, says Burke. Patterson asks him when he last saw Malloy. Day before yesterday, says Burke--look, I just want to know the cause of his death. Day before yesterday, repeats Patterson--that would be the day he disappeared--what time was that? Sometime between eight and nine, says Burke, at the Blue Whale--he called me and wanted to talk to me there. All right, says Patterson, you met him and then what? We talked--he left, says Burke. And that would be between eight and nine, says Patterson. Yes, agrees Burke. And what did you do? asks Patterson. I stayed and had a couple of drinks, says Burke--what are you after? Information, says the sheriff, like what you were doing between 10:30 and 11 that night--or anything else you care to tell me. Yes there is something else I'd like to tell you, says Burke, rising from the chair--did you know that Bill Malloy called a meeting at Roger Collins' office that evening?--that's why he met me at the Blue Whale--he wanted to tell me to be sure to be there. I see, says Patterson, who else was invited? Roger Collins and Sam Evans, says Burke--Malloy never showed up--we waited an hour--I went to his house, rang the bell, beat on the door--he didn't answer. Maybe you'd better tell me what that meeting was about, suggests Patterson. That would be a good question for Roger Collins, says Burke. But I'm asking you, says Patterson, filing a pencil with a pocket knife. Ten years ago, says Burke, I was tried and convicted of manslaughter. You were talking about the meeting Bill Malloy called, says Patterson. He called that meeting because he felt he could clear me, says Burke, that he could prove I wasn't guilty--Malloy called that meeting between Collins, Malloy and one other man--Sam Evans--I didn't know it was going to be Sam until he showed up--but he called it--me, Collins and Evans--but he never showed up--and I think you'd better ask yourself why? The only thing I'm asking myself now, says Patterson, is why you expect me to believe Malloy would call such a meeting. To clear my name, says Burke, put the blame where it really belongs. On Roger Collins, you mean, guesses Patterson. Yes, says Burke. Malloy worked for the Collinses, says Patterson--you don't think he'd help put one of them behind bars, do you? A while ago, says Burke, you told me not to meddle in your job--all right, you do your job--go up to Collinwood and ask Roger Collins why. I did, says Patterson. Did he tell you about the meeting? asks Burke. Yes, he did, says the sheriff, he told me that you were there and Sam Evans. Did he tell you why? asks Burke. No, he said he didn't know why, replies Patterson--he said Malloy called the meeting, but he didn't have the faintest idea what it was about. He's a liar! says Burke. Maybe, maybe not, says Patterson. What about Sam Evans--have you talked to him? asks Burke. Not yet, says Patterson, but I will.
Restaurant - And then when I told Mr. Collins I might be having dinner with you and your father, Vicki relates to Maggie, he got very upset and tried to talk me out of going--he didn't say why--but maybe there's something about my past that he doesn't want me to learn. What could my father possibly know about you? asks Maggie. I don't know, says Vicki, but you see, I was raised in an orphanage and grew up always wondering who I was, and who my parents were--and then there was the money--money was sent to me every month, in an envelope, and the postmark was always the same--Bangor, Maine. That's only about 50 miles from here, says Maggie. I know, says Vicki--that's why I took the job at Collinwood. But how did you know they needed someone? asks Maggie. I didn't, says Vicki--I'd never heard of the place, or Collinsport, but then I got a letter from Mrs. Stoddard, offering me the job--I'd never heard of her, either. So you figured there might be some connection, says Maggie. I really feel that the answers are in that house, says Vicki, that somehow, I'm tied in with the family. And you think my father knows something about it? asks Maggie. Probably not, says Vicki--but I've got to find out. Then let's do it! says Maggie enthusiastically--how about coming to dinner with us tonight? I'd love it, says Vicki. Good, says Maggie, that's settled--now about lunch--how does clam chowder, lobster roll and coffee sound? Great, says Vicki. Good, coming right up, says Maggie. There's something I have to tell you, says Vicki--if you hadn't invited me to dinner, I'd have invited myself. Maggie smiles.
Patterson asks Burke where he was between 10:30 and 11 on the night Malloy drowned. At the Blue Whale, replies Burke. But you said you were at Roger's office at 11, Patterson reminds him.
That's right, I left the Blue Whale about 10:45 and drove to the Collins Canneries, explains Burke. Could you have left earlier? asks Patterson. Was Malloy murdered--is that what this is all about? asks Burke. Was there anyone at the Blue Whale who could swear that you left at 10:45 and not before? asks Patterson. Yes, says Burke, there were a few people, including the bartender--but if you think I killed Malloy, you're mistaken--I liked that man--I respected him more than anyone in this lousy town. I don't know that anyone killed him, says Patterson. What's on that paper? asks Burke. This? asks Patterson, tapping the paper--nothing very helpful--he died of drowning--there was also evidence of a blow on the head, but that doesn't mean much--you know what the rocks are like around here--his body was in the water almost two days--of course, we don't know how it got there. Do you know where? asks Burke. Not yet, but we will, as soon as we get the tide charts figured out, says Patterson--what we do know, he says, taking a pocket watch from the desk drawer and holding it up--is when--10:45--that figures, doesn't it--we know he was alive at 10:30 because his housekeeper said he received a phone call--she didn't say who from. I called him at 11, says Burke, when he didn't show up at the meeting--if he was murdered, there are two people in this town who didn't want him to show up at that meeting. Roger Collins and Sam Evans, guesses Patterson. That's right! says Burke. Except for one other if--if your story of the purpose of that meeting is true, says Patterson.
Vicki praises Maggie for a wonderful meal and asks how much she owes her. On the house, says Maggie. Uh-uh, protests Vicki. Don't worry about it, says Maggie--the clam chowder was two weeks old and the lobster roll from last year--just don't send me your doctor bills. I won't, promises Vicki--and thanks--I guess I'll do some shopping, then go back to the house to get changed. Fine, says Maggie, but don't forget to pick me up here at 6:30 sharp. Burke enters, coughing, and Maggie asks him if he learned anything. Nothing important, he replies--maybe I can get that cup of coffee now. He asks Vicki if the "little governess" will join him. I haven't time, says Vicki, and bids Maggie goodbye. Burke stops Vicki as she's about to leave, and asks if he can cash in that dinner rain check for the meal they never had. I can't, she says, I'm having dinner with Maggie and her father tonight. Sam Evans? asks Burke (who else)?
Maybe some other time, suggests Vicki. Yeah, sure, says Burke, no longer sounding interested. Maggie calls Burke over for his coffee. Nice girl, remarks Burke. Very, agrees Vicki. Too bad she's always walking into the lion's den, remarks Burke, sipping his coffee.
NOTES: So Malloy was drowned, but we don't yet know if he was pushed or fell in--or committed suicide, which seems unlikely. We still don't really have a clue as to whom might have murdered him, if it was murder, at least nothing definitive. I can well understand Burke's dismay--as he told the sheriff, he really believed Malloy was going to clear him of that manslaughter charge, and now all hope appears gone.
Vicki and Maggie are already becoming warm friends. It's nice, because they both seem lonely.
Love the police department set. Sy Thomashoff did a wonderful job on this show with all the sets.
Episode #58 - The great house of Collinwood perches on the crest of Widows' Hill in seeming isolation from the world around it, yet the long shadows of fear do reach out, touching others, darkening their hearts with growing tension.
Sam sits at a table in the Blue Whale, alone, brooding. Joe enters and orders a beer. Sam greets him, "Hello, son," and asks Joe to sit with him--put his beer on my tab, Sam orders the bartender. Joe protests, but Sam puts an arm around him and asks him not to deny an old man his pleasure, especially not on such a sad day like this. They sit at the table. It's a terrible day, says Sam, when a good friend dies, you sit around and wonder what the world was like. I didn't know Malloy was a good friend of yours, remarks Joe. That he was, says Sam, one of the best--he was a very great man, of course you only knew him as your boss, but he was one of the finest men that ever walked the face of this earth--shall we drink to his memory? They do. You haven't been up to Collinwood since they took Bill's body out of the water, have you? Sam asks. No, says Joe. Surely you've spoken to them, Caroline (that's how he pronounced it) is your lady love. Not yet, says Joe. Then you have no idea how they're taking it, says Sam. All I know, says Joe, is that they ordered the plant closed for the rest of the day; that's how I happened to be in here. Sure, says Sam, Bill Malloy dies and they close the cannery in his memory--a gesture--well, son, soon there will be more things than that closed. (How enigmatic!)
Collinwood - David lies on his stomach on the drawing room carpet, a book in front of him. Carolyn enters and asks what he thinks he's doing. Reading, he says. Have you seen my mother? she asks--maybe she's in the study. No she's not, he says. How do you know? she asks nastily. Because that's how I got this book, David replies, so I know she wasn't in there--that's how I know. She's probably still lying down, says Carolyn, sitting. Probably, he agrees. You should be outside, she says, I suppose you know that. I know, he says, then sits in front of her on the floor and asks her if she'll tell him something. I'll tell you that you'd better go outside, she says, because that's where my mother wanted you to be today. I know, because Mr. Malloy died and everybody's sad, he says, not very interested. Isn't that a good enough reason? she asks him. Where was his body? asks David--you and Miss Winters saw it at the bottom of the cliff, didn't you? I'd rather not talk about it, she says. I have to know, it's important! he says. Maybe it is to you, she says, but I'd like to pretend I never saw it. That's silly, he says, he's dead, what difference does it make now? Can't you see that begins Carolyn...oh, you'll never understand. You don't have to make such a big thing about it, he says, all I want to know is, where he was, the exact spot. What else would you like to know, she asks bitterly--whether his eyes were open or closed?--how he was dressed? None of that matters, says David--only the exact spot where he floated to shore! You're disgusting, do you know that? she asks. Why, what did I say? he asks. They're both standing, facing each other now. A dear, dear friend has died, and I just don't want to talk about it, she says. Why not? he asks petulantly, I mean you can't make him alive, can you? No, she says, I'm afraid not. So what difference does it make? he repeats. Because I'm sick of it! she says--sick of death, fears, ghosts--and this house--especially this house. What's wrong with it?--I think it's fun, he says. Fun? she asks--wait until you've grown up in it, the way I have--wait until you've spent years surrounded by these walls--maybe then you'll see just how much fun it is. Gee, he says, what other kid gets to live in a house with real ghosts? She makes a face. All right, forget it, she says. He sits beside her in front of the fireplace and suggests that if she doesn't like it, why doesn't she just go away? It isn't that easy, she says. Sure, it's scary sometimes, he says, but I have lots of friends here. You? she asks--friends? Sure, he says, out on Widows' Hill--and all the rooms that are closed off--they're all my friends--who knows, maybe even Mr. Malloy will come back. That's enough, says Carolyn. Well he will, says David, unless someone can find out what happened to him. We know what happened to him, says Carolyn--he drowned. You've got to know more, insists David--the exact spot where he landed in the water--don't you think that's important? I suppose so, she says, I never really thought about it. I did, he says, that's why I got these books--he picks up a tome from the floor--they're all about tides and currents and stuff like that--that's why I wanted to know exactly where he fell into the water--then maybe I could find out where he came from.
Blue Whale - Sam, smoking, asks Joe if the police can figure it out. Depends on how much information they have, says Joe. You're a good fisherman, says Sam, you ought to know about ocean currents. There's so many factors involved, says Joe. Like what? asks Sam. They have to know about the time that Mr. Malloy's body landed in the water, explains Joe. Suppose they know that--then what? asks Sam. Then they have to know what time it came to rest on Widows' Hill, replies Joe. And after that? asks Sam. Then it's a matter of using a tide chart, finding out the prevailing current, wind conditions, says Joe--I suppose they have to work backwards. Just answer me yes or no, says Sam--could the police tell the exact spot Malloy's body fell into the water? Not exactly, but approximately, replies Joe--they'll probably end up with two or three possible locations. Sam offers him another beer, again calling him son. I haven't finished this one yet, points out Joe. Drink up, says Sam, slapping him on the shoulder--this is a day for remembering and forgetting. I imagine the police are working on those tide charts right now, says Joe.
I'm going to order you another beer anyway, says Sam. George Patterson enters the bar and Sam looks at him nervously while the sheriff smiles back.
Sam and Patterson greet each other, and the sheriff asks if he can join them. Social or business? asks Sam, as George takes a seat. That's the trouble with my business, jokes Patterson, even when I'm being social, I can't forget about business--I hear the cannery was closed for the rest of the day. It was, says Joe. It really is a shame, says Patterson, the way a good man's death can be a benefit to some people. What do you mean by that? asks Sam. Why, what did you think I meant? sks Patterson. I don't know, it just sounded strange, says Sam, slugging down the stronger part of his boilermaker. Strange?--why Joe here gets a beautiful afternoon off, says Patterson, and why?--because a man died--that's all I meant--you aren't going to waste it sitting here in the bar, are you, Joe? I just dropped in for a beer, says Joe. If I were you, I'd hop in my car, pick up my girl and go for a nice long ride in the country, suggests Patterson. The boy is keeping me company, says Sam. Kids sure have changed these days, says George--if I had gone with a girl as long as Joe has been chasing Carolyn Stoddard, I'd either have hog-tied her by now or set her loose! (hog-tied?) I think that's his business, says Sam. Absolutely right, says Patterson, I hope I didn't hurt your feelings, he tells Joe. You haven't said a thing that I haven't said to myself months ago, says Joe. Go on then! says Patterson--get something out of the day! I guess you're right, says Joe, rising. He thanks Sam for the beer and leaves (and Sam was trying so hard to keep him there)! Enjoy yourself, says Patterson--he's a nice boy, he says to Sam, who agrees and drinks his beer. Now it's just you and me, says Patterson; Sam looks steadily back at him.
David returns from outside and tells Carolyn he figured out the exact spot where Mr. Malloy's body must have been
--maybe the exact spot doesn't matter that much, but... He heads into the drawing room and Carolyn orders him to come back here--didn't he understand anything she said to him? Sure, you don't like this house, he says. I'm talking about Mr. Malloy, she says--what you're doing is morbid--can't you see that? No, he says, because I don't know what that means. There's a knock. There's someone at the door, he says. Carolyn answers and when Joe comes in, asks him if he knows anyone who would like to buy a nine-year-old horror--there's one for sale in there, cheap. Joe smiles. David? he asks--he's not so bad. They kiss. Honey, I've been meaning to call and tell you how bad I feel about Mr. Malloy, he says. Which is more than I can say for my cousin, she says. Why don't you get out of the house? he suggests--I thought we could take a little drive. Only if you promise not to stop, she says--only if you say we'll keep going until we're 10,000 miles away from this place. She goes into his arms and hugs him. Would you settle for 50? He asks. David enters, tide book in hand, telling Joe he's really glad he's here. I hear you've been giving your cousin a hard time, says Joe, an arm around Carolyn. I bet you could help me, says David--I bet you know all about this stuff. Stop it, orders Carolyn--I'll go up and change and be right back. She heads upstairs, but stops when she hears David asking Joe about ebb currents. I asked you to stop! She says. All I want is some help, that's all, he says. What's this all about? asks Joe. I'm trying to solve a murder, says David. Murder? Repeats Carolyn, who said it was a murder.
Patterson, finishing up a phone call, complains to Sam that he can't have a friendly conversation without being called to the phone--what were they talking about/ Bill Malloy, says Sam. Your old friend, says Patterson. That what the phone call was about? asks Sam, smoking. No, just a couple of characters down by the docks got into a fight--good friends, too--it really gets me the way a person will start beating up on a person he calls his friend. Sam drinks. Oh, boy, the smoke is terrible in here, says Patterson, rising--let's get out of here. I don't notice it, says Sam. Listen, you and I have got to have a nice, long talk, and this is not the place to do it, insists Patterson--come on, let's go. Where to? asks Sam. How about my office, says Patterson. Sam looks at him, perturbed.
Carolyn comes downstairs wearing a different dress, calling to Joe. In here, honey, says Joe, who is sitting beside David at the desk, showing him ebb currents in his book--look at your tide table for that day and... Oh, Joe, you, too? asks a disapproving Carolyn. I was just showing David how these tide tables work, says Joe. You're as bad as he is, she says. It will just take a second, Joe promises, I'll be right with you. Take as long as you want! says Carolyn nastily, and Joe follows her to the stairs. Wait a minute, he says. You said you were going to take me for a ride, she reminds him, but if you'd rather play games with David, then go right ahead and do it. He chastises her for being silly. No I'm not, she says, I just don't like Bill's death being used as an exercise in mathematics. I just got interested in the problem, that's all, says Joe. He's dead, says Carolyn softly, can't you let him rest? Sure, says Joe--come on, let's go out. If you're sure that's what you want to do, she says. Only partly, he says. If you'd rather be with David, she says, smiling. What I'd rather do, he says, is not just take you out of this house for a drive, but make it a lot longer than that. All right, she says. You know what someone said to me today? He asks--ah, I'd better not tell you. He puts a hand to his head. What did someone say to you today? She asks. He said there came a time when a fella either had to hog-tie his girl or let her loose. I see, she grins--and which did you decide to do?
David interrupts, book in hand, saying he thinks he figured out what to do--he needs Joe's help. Joe tells him he guesses he's going to have to ask someone else--try his father. Joe, please? begs David. Joe apologizing, brushing back the hair off David's forehead, saying he doesn't want him to lose his girl, does he?--you're doing fine with it, just keep going, you'll get it--OK?--all set? He asks Carolyn. Which did you decide? asks the blonde--are you going to hog tie me, or let me go? Let's go for that drive and I'll tell you, he promises. Joe! says David pleadingly. I tell you what, says Joe--you take it to your father--I'm sure he can help you. He'd rip it up--because he'd be scared! Says David in a vicious tone. Come on, says Joe, and he and Carolyn leave.
Patterson ushers a nervous Sam into his office. What is it you want from me, George? asks Sam. Answers, says Patterson--questions and answers--that's what half my job amounts to. Sam sits down and says if there's anything he can tell him... Tell me about the meeting, says Patterson--Bill Malloy called a meeting between you, Roger Collins and Burke Devlin the night he died. How did you know he died that night? asks Sam--he disappeared, but that doesn't mean... All right, we'll get back to that, says Patterson--right now I want to hear about the meeting. Sam relates his Bill came to his office and asked him to come to Roger's office at 11--that's all I know. Oh, come on, did you go to the meeting? asks Patterson. Yes, says Sam. Did Burke and Collins show up? asks the sheriff. Yes, says Sam. Did Malloy show up? asks Patterson. No, says Sam. Do you know why he didn't show up? asks Patterson--because he was dead--he was floating in the water by then. Are you sure of that? asks Sam. There are not too many things about this mess I am sure about, says Patterson, but that's one of them--now let's get back to the meeting--why did Malloy set it up? I don't know, says Sam. Sam! says Patterson reproachfully. It's true, I don't know, Bill came to my house and said he wanted me to come to Roger Collins' office at 11 o'clock--he didn't tell me why, he just said he wanted me to be there. And you never learned the reason? quizzes Patterson. That's right, says Sam. Let's you and me see if we can't figure it out, says the sheriff. Sam doesn't look happy at the sheriff's scrutiny.
Let's work on that meeting, says Patterson--you say you don't know why it was called--do you remember Burke Devlin's manslaughter conviction 10 years ago. Sure, says Sam. There are some people around town, says Patterson, who thought he wasn't guilty of that crime, remember that? Yes, says Sam evasively. You didn't happen to be one of those people, did you? asks Patterson. No, I never thought much about it, says Sam. I thought you always liked Burke, back in those days, I mean--that's very strange--he should be tried, sent to prison for five years--and what did you say--you never thought much about it? Just what is it that you want from me? demands Sam. Did you have evidence you should have given at that trial? Shouts Patterson. Of course not! explodes Sam. I want the truth! says Patterson. I'm telling you the truth! bellows Sam--what has this got to do with Malloy. Malloy set up that meeting because he wanted to prove Burke innocent of that crime, says Patterson, and he wanted you there because he knew you could help do it. that's absolute, utter nonsense! says Sam, rising to his feet. Just sit down, orders Patterson. Why should Malloy say... I asked you to sit down, didn't I? commands Patterson, right in his face. Sam sits down and tells Patterson he doesn't know why the meeting was called. Oh, but you went, anyway, points out the sheriff--at 11 o'clock at night--doesn't that seem a little bit strange? Malloy was a good friend, says Sam, he insisted that I be there. And you never asked him why? asks the sheriff. Of course I did, says Sam, he said I'll find out--now if you don't believe me, ask Roger Collins and see what he's got to say about it! What about Burke Devlin--think I ought to ask him? queries Patterson. If you want to, says Sam. I spoke to Burke, earlier today, says Patterson--he said Malloy told him the purpose of that meeting was to exonerate him from that crime; he said he made that very clear. I don't know anything about it, insists Sam. Why would he lie? asks Patterson. How should I know? asks Sam--I don't know anything about Burke's manslaughter conviction
--that's the honest truth and a fact. How did you get to the meeting? asks George. I walked, says Sam. From your house? asks Patterson. Yes, says Sam. How long did it take? Asks the sheriff. Abbot half an hour, says Sam, I left about 10:30, got there about 11. Where would you say you were about 10:45? Asks Patterson. About halfway, I guess, says Sam. Anybody see you there, at 10:45, I mean? asks Patterson. What are you getting at? asks Sam--is that when Malloy died?--10:45? You're sure nobody saw you? repeats Patterson. You think he was murdered, don't you? asks Sam--you think I killed him--well, I didn't--I had nothing to do with it! I didn't say anything about murder, I just asked you where you were, says Patterson. That's what you were thinking, wasn't it? asks Sam through gritted teeth. If he was murdered and if what Burke says is true, there are two people who stand to gain by his death--you and Roger Collins!
David pours over the charts, looking miserable. He takes the book and looks into the fire, then stands by the window, his face set and angry. He drops the book back on the desk and heads upstairs, pounding his way up. He hears a knock at the door and answers. Joe, I knew you'd...he says, but the words fade on his lips when Patterson affably greets him, asking if he's the doorman today. You want to see my father, don't you? Asks David. Yes, how did you know that? asks Patterson. It's about Mr. Malloy, isn't it? asks David. Is your father home? asks Patterson. Yes, says David, I'll go tell him you're here--and he pounds upstairs and across the landing. Patterson looks at a portrait of a Collins ancestor and drops his hat on the foyer table.
NOTES: Is there soon going to be an arrest? Will Sam be put in jail for murdering Bill? He's acting guilty, and so was Roger, to a lesser extend. What's the real truth here?
Hog tying? I can't imagine Carolyn putting up with something like that. I predict Joe is going to have to let her go.
Interesting conversation between David and Carolyn, one who loves Collinwood, the other who hates it. Carolyn was disgusted by her cousin's morbid interest in Malloy's death, but in this way, he's acting like a typical boy of his age--perhaps with a bit too much intensity and not enough caring about the man himself. I found myself wishing Carolyn was kinder to him.
David likes Joe, and he doesn't like many people. Too bad Carolyn couldn't just let the two of them work on the tide charts. David needed Joe far more than she did.
Patterson grills very well, and was clever in sending Joe off to be with Carolyn. I like Patterson!
Love, Robin
