Men, are you over 40?
When you wake up in the morning,|do you feel tired and rundown?
Do you have that listless feeling?
- Jefferies.|- Congratulations, Jeff.
- For what?|- Getting rid of that cast.
Who said I was getting rid of it?
This is Wednesday.
Seven weeks from the day|you broke your leg. Yes or no?
Gunnison, how did|you get to be such a big editor
With such a small memory?
Thrift, industry and hard work...
And catching the publisher|with his secretary.
- Did l get the wrong day?|- No.
No, wrong week.
Next Wednesday I emerge from this...|Plaster cocoon.
That's too bad, Jeff.|Well, I guess I can't be lucky every day.
Forget l called.
yeah, l sure feel|sorry for you, Gunnison.
Must be rough on you thinking of me|wearing this cast for another week.
That one week is gonna cost|me my best photographer,
And you a big assignment.
There's no point|in even talking about it.
Oh, come on, come on. Where?
Kashmir. Got a code tip from|the bureau chief this morning.
The place is about to go up in smoke.
What did I tell you? Didn't I tell|you that's the next place to watch?
- You did.|- When do l leave? Hour?
- With that cast on? You don't.|- Stop sounding stuffy.
I can take pictures from a jeep|or a water buffalo, if necessary.
You're too valuable to the|magazine for us to play around with.
- I'll send Morgan or Lambert.|- Morgan or Lambert.
I get myself half-killed for you,
And you reward me|by stealing my assignments.
l didn't ask you to stand in|the middle of an automobile racetrack.
You asked for something|dramatically different.
- You got it.|- So did you.
- Goodbye, Jeff.|- Now, wait a minute, Gunnison.
You've got to get me out of here.
Six weeks sitting|in a two-room apartment
With nothing to do but look out|the window at the neighbours.
- Bye, Jeff.|- No, Gunnison, I...
Lf you don't pull me out|of this swamp of boredom,
L'm gonna do something drastic.
- Like what?|- "Like what?" Get married.
Then l'll never be able to go anywhere.
lt's about time you got married,
Before you turn into|a lonesome and bitter, old man.
yeah, can't you just see me?
Rushing home to a hot apartment
To listen to the automatic laundry|and the electric dishwasher
And the garbage disposal|and the nagging wife.
Jeff, wives don't nag|any more, they discuss.
ls that so? Ls that so?
Maybe in the high-rent district|they discuss.
Ln my neighbourhood, they still nag.
Well, you know best.|I'll call you later.
yeah, have some good news|the next time, huh?
Good morning. I said, "Good morning!"
Oh, good morning.
Say, I wouldn't dig so deep|if I were you.
You're giving them far too much water.
Why don't you shut up?
I do declare.
State sentence|for a peeping tom,
Is six months in the workhouse.
Oh, hello, sweetheart.
They got no windows in the workhouse.
In the old days, they used to put|your eyes out with a red-hot poker.
Any of those bikini bombshells|you're always watching
Worth a red-hot poker?
We've become a race of Peeping Toms.
What people ought to do|is get outside their own house
And look in for a change.
Yes, sir. How's that for|a bit of homespun philosophy?
Reader's Digest, April 1939.
Well, I only quote from the best.
You don't have to take|my temperature this morning.
Quiet. See if you can break 100.
You know, I should have been|a gypsy fortune-teller
Instead of an insurance company nurse.
I got a nose for trouble.|Can smell it ten miles away.
You heard of that market crash in "29?|I predicted that.
Just how did you do that, Stella?
Oh, simple. I was nursing|a director of General Motors.
"Kidney ailment," they said.|"Nerves," I said.
Then I asked myself,
'What's General Motors|got to be nervous about?"
"Overproduction," I says. "Collapse."
When General Motors has to go|to the bathroom ten times a day,
The whole country's ready to let go.
You know, Stella,|in economics, a kidney ailment
Has no relationship to the stock market.
- None whatsoever.|- Crashed, didn't it?
I can smell trouble|right here in this apartment.
First you smash your leg,
Then you get|to looking out the window,
See things you shouldn't see.
I can see you in court now
Surrounded by a bunch of lawyers|in double-breasted suits.
You say, "Judge,|it was only a bit of innocent fun.
I love my neighbours, like a father."
And the judge says,|'Well, congratulations.
You've just given birth|to three years in Dannamora."
Right now, I'd welcome trouble.
You've got a hormone deficiency.
How can you tell from a thermometer?
Those bathing beauties|you've been watching
Haven't raised your temperature|one degree in a month.
Here we go.
One more week.
I think you're right.
I think there is gonna be|trouble around here.
I knew it.
Ooh. Do you ever heat that stuff?
Gives your|circulation something to fight.
- What kind of trouble?|- Lisa Fremont.
You kidding?|She's a beautiful, young girl,
And you're a reasonably|healthy young man.
- She expects me to marry her.|- That's normal.
- I don't want to.|- That's abnormal.
I'm just not ready for marriage.
Every man's ready for marriage|when the right girl comes along.
Lisa Fremont is the right girl|for any man with half a brain
Who can get one eye open.
- What did you do, have a fight?|- No.
- Father loading up the shotgun?|- What?
- Please, Stella.|- It's happened before, you know.
Some of the world's|happiest marriages have
Started "under the gun,'|as you might say.
- No, she's just not the girl for me.|- yeah, she's only perfect.
She's too perfect. She's too talented.
She's too beautiful.|She's too sophisticated.
She's too everything, but what I want.
Is what you want|something you can discuss?
What? It's very simple, Stella.
She belongs to that rarefied|atmosphere of Park Avenue:
Expensive restaurants|and literary cocktail parties.
People with sense|belong wherever they're put.
Can you imagine her tramping around|the world with a camera bum
Who never has more than|a week's salary in the bank?
If she was only ordinary.
You never gonna get married?
I'll probably get married|one of these days,
But when I do, it's gonna be|to someone who thinks of life
Not just as a new dress|and a lobster dinner
And the latest scandal.
I need a woman who's willing to...|Hold it.
Who's willing to go anywhere|and do anything and love it.
So the honest thing for me to do|is just call the whole thing off.
Let her find somebody else.
yeah, I can hear you now.
"Get out of my life,|you perfectly wonderful woman."
Look, Mr Jefferies,|I'm not an educated woman,
But I can tell you one thing.
When a man and a woman see|each other and like each other,
They ought to come together, wham,
Like a couple of taxis on Broadway
And not sit around analysing each other
Like two specimens in a bottle.
There's an intelligent way|to approach marriage.
Nothing has caused the human race|so much trouble as intelligence.
- No, we've progressed emotionally.|- Baloney.
Once it was see somebody,|get excited, get married.
Now, it's read a lot of books,
Fence with a lot of four-syllable|words, psychoanalyse each other
Until you can't tell the difference
Between a petting party|and a civil service exam.
People have different emotional levels -
When l married Myles, we were both|a couple of maladjusted misfits.
We are still maladjusted, and we|have loved every minute of it.
Well, that's fine, Stella.
Now, would you|fix me a sandwich, please?
Yes, I will. And I'll spread|a little common sense on the bread.
Lisa's loaded to her fingertips|with love for you.
I got two words of advice|for you: Marry her.
- She pay you much?|- Oh.
There you are.
- Here's the key.|- Thank you.
Well, if you want anything, just ring.
Got to carry you over the threshold.
How's your leg?
It hurts a little.
- And your stomach?|- Empty as a football.
And your love life?
Not too active.
Anything else bothering you?
Who are you?
Reading from top to bottom:
Is this the Lisa Fremont who|never wears the same dress twice?
Only because it's expected of her.
It's right off the Paris plane.
- Do you think it'll sell?|- That depends on the quote.
Let's see now.|There's the aeroplane ticket over,
Import duties, hidden taxes,
- Profit markup |- A steal at $1,100.
They ought to list that dress|on the stock exchange.
We sell a dozen a day|in this price range.
Who buys them, tax collectors?
Even if I had to pay,|it would be worth it.
- Just for the occasion.|- Why, is something big going on?
It's going on right here. It's a big night.
It's just an old|run-of-the-mill Wednesday.
The calendar's full of them.
It's opening night of the last depressing|week of L B Jefferies in a cast.
Well, I haven't noticed|a big demand for tickets.
That's because I bought out the house.
You know, this cigarette box|has seen better days.
I picked that up in Shanghai,|which has also seen better days.
It's cracked and you never use it.
It's too ornate.
I'm sending up a plain, flat,|silver one with your initials.
That's no way to spend|your hard-earned money.
I wanted to.
What would you think of|starting off with dinner at "21 "?
You have, perhaps,|an ambulance downstairs?
No, better than that: "21 ".
Thank you for waiting, Carl.|The kitchen's right there on the left.
I'll take the wine.
- Good evening, Mr Jefferies.|- Carl.
Just put everything|in the oven, Carl, on low.
- Let's open the wine now.|- Alright.
- It's a Montrachet.|- A great big glassful.
There's a corkscrew right over there.
Here, I'll do it.
- Big enough?|- yeah, they're fine.
I can't think of anything more|boring or tiresome
Than what you've been through|and the last week must be the hardest.
Alright. yeah, I want to get|this thing off and get moving.
Well, I'm going to make this|a week you'll never forget.
Just a minute, Carl.
- This will take care of the taxi.|- Thank you, Miss Fremont.
- Have a pleasant dinner, Mr Jefferies.|- Alright, Good night.
What a day I've had.
- Are you tired?|- Not a bit.
I was all morning in a meeting,
Then I had to dash to the Waldorf|for a quick drink with Madam Dufrene,
Who's just over from Paris|with some spy reports.
Then l had to go to "21" and have lunch|with the Harper's Bazaar people.
That's when I ordered dinner.
Then I had two fall showings|20 blocks apart.
Then I had to have a cocktail|with Leland and Slim Hayward.
We're trying to get his new show.
Then I had to dash back and change.
Well, now, tell me,|what was Mrs Hayward wearing?
- She looked wonderfully cool.|- She didn't, did she?
She had on the most divine|Italian hand-printed -
- Oh, Italian?|- Oh, you.
- Italian. Imagine.|- To think I planted three nice items
- In the columns about you today.|- You did?
- You can't buy that kind of publicity.|- I know.
Someday you may want to|open up a studio of your own here.
How would I run it from, say, Pakistan?
Isn't it time you came home?|You could pick your assignment.
- I wish there was one I wanted.|- Make the one you want.
- You mean leave the magazine?|- Yes.
- For what?|- For yourself and me.
I could get you a dozen|assignments tomorrow:
- Fashions, portraits.|-
- Now, don't laugh. I could do it.|- That's what I'm afraid of.
Can you see me driving down|to the fashion salon in a jeep
Wearing combat boots and a three-day|beard? Wouldn't that make a hit?
I could see you looking|very handsome and successful
In a dark blue, flannel suit.
Let's stop talking nonsense, shall we?
Guess I'd better|start setting up for dinner.
At least that's something|you'll never have to worry about.
You can see my apartment from here,|all the way up on 63rd Street?
No, not exactly,|but we have a little apartment here
That's probably as popular as yours.
You remember, of course,|Miss Torso, the ballet dancer?
She's like a queen bee|with her pick of the drones.
l'd say she's|doing a woman's hardest job.
Well, she picked the most|prosperous-looking one.
She's not in love with him...|Or any of them.
Oh, how can you tell that from here?
You said it resembled|my apartment, didn't you?
I hope they're cooked this time.
Where's that|wonderful music coming from?
Some songwriter over there|in the studio apartment.
He lives alone.
Probably had a very unhappy marriage.
Oh, it's enchanting.
It's almost as if it were|being written especially for us.
Hm. No wonder he's having|so much trouble with it.
At least you can't say|the dinner isn't right.
There can't be that much difference|between people and the way they live.
We all eat, talk, drink,|laugh, wear clothes.
Well, now look -
If you're saying all this because|you don't want to tell me the truth,
Because you're hiding something from|me, then maybe I can understand.
I'm not hiding anything. It's just that -
It doesn't make sense.
What's so different about it here|from there or anyplace you go
That one person couldn't live|in both places just as easily?
Some people can.|Now, if you'll just let me -
What is it but travelling from|one place to another taking pictures?
It's like being a tourist|on an endless vacation.
OK. That's your opinion.|You're entitled to it.
- Now, let me give you my side.|- It's ridiculous to say
That it can only be done by a special,|private little group of anointed people.
I made a simple statement,|a true statement,
But I can back it up if you'll just|shut up for a minute.
If your opinion is as rude as your|manner, I don't think I care to hear it.
Oh, come on now. Simmer down.
I can't fit in here. You can't fit in there.
According to you, people|should be born, live and die
- On the same spot!|- Shut up!
- Did you ever eat fish heads and rice?|- Of course not.
Well, you might have to|if you went with me.
Did you ever try to keep warm|in a C-54 at 15,000 feet,
20 degrees below zero?
Oh, I do it all the time,
Whenever I have|a few minutes after lunch.
Did you ever get shot at? Run over?
Did you ever get sandbagged
Because somebody got unfavourable|publicity from your camera?
Did you ever...|Those high heels,|they'll be great in the jungle.
And the nylons|and those six-ounce lingerie.
- Three.|- Alright, three.
They'll make a big hit in Finland,|just before you freeze to death.
Well, if there's one thing I know,|it's how to wear the proper clothes.
Well, try and find a raincoat in Brazil,|even when it isn't raining.
Lisa, in this job you carry one suitcase.
Your home|is the available transportation.
You don't sleep very much.|You bathe less.
And sometimes the food that you eat
Is made from things that you couldn't|even look at when they're alive.
Jeff, you don't have to be deliberately|repulsive just to impress me I'm wrong.
Deliberately repulsive?|I'm trying to make it sound good.
You just have to face it, Lisa,|you're not meant for that kind of a life.
Few people are.
- You're too stubborn to argue with.|- I'm not stubborn. I'm just truthful.
I know, a lesser man would have|told me it was one long holiday,
And I would have awakened|to a rude disillusionment.
Well, now, wait a minute.
If you want to get vicious on this thing,|I'd be happy to accommodate you.
No, I don't particularly want that.
So that's it?
You won't stay here,|and I can't go with you.
It would be the wrong thing.
You don't think either one|of us could ever change?
Right now it doesn't seem so.
I-I'm in love with you.
I don't care what you do for a living.
I'd like to be part of it somehow.
It's deflating to find out|the only way I can be part of it,
Is to take out a subscription|to your magazine.
I guess I'm not the girl I thought I was.
There's nothing wrong with you, Lisa.
You've got this town|in the palm of your hand.
Not quite, it seems.
You mean good night.
- I mean what l said.|- Well, Lisa...
Couldn't we just...
Couldn't we just...|Keep things status quo?
Without any future?
Well, when am I gonna see you again?
Not for a long time.
At least...|Not until tomorrow night.
Grab that. Wait, I'll get the clock.
Pull on it. Let me do it.
In you go.
No, you can't come in.|It's much too late.
No, not now.
No, I said good night.
What's that supposed to be, ma'am?
It's called hunger.
You'd think the rain|would have cooled things off.
- All it did was make the heat wet.|- Ahh, that's it.
That's stiff right there. Right there.
The insurance company|would be much happier
If you'd sleep in bed at night|instead of in that wheelchair.
- How do you know?|- Eyes are all bloodshot.
Must have been watching|out that window for hours.
yeah, I was.
What are you gonna do|if one of them catches you?
It depends which one.|Miss Torso, for example -
You keep your mind off her.
She sure is the|'eat, drink and be merry" girl.
yeah, she'll wind up fat,|alcoholic and miserable.
Speaking of misery,|poor Miss Lonelyhearts.
She drank herself to sleep again, alone.
Poor soul. Maybe one day|she'll find her happiness.
yeah, and some man will lose his.
Isn't there anybody in the|neighbourhood
Who could cast an eye in her direction?
It might just be that the salesman|will be available soon.
Oh, him and his wife splitting up?
I just can't figure it.
He went out several times|last night in the rain,
- Carrying his sample case.|- Well, he's a salesman, isn't he?
What would he be selling|at three o'clock in the morning?
Flashlights.|Luminous dials for watches.
House numbers that light up.
I don't think so.
I think he was taking|something out of the apartment.
Uh-huh. His personal effects.
He's gonna run out on her, the coward.
yeah. Sometimes it's worse|to stay than it is to run.
yeah, well, it takes a particularly low|type of man to do a thing like that.
How about this morning?
Any further developments?
The shades are all drawn|in the apartment.
- In this heat?|- yeah.
Well, they're up now.
- Get back! Get back.|- Where do you want me to go?
- Come on, get out of sight.|- What's the matter?
That salesman's looking out of|his window. You see?
Get back! He'll see you.
I'm not shy. I've been looked at before.
That's no ordinary look.
That's the kind of look a man gives
When he's afraid somebody|might be watching him.
Get away from there.
He'll be after you.|Go on, into the house.
Into the house. Shoo, shoo.
Goodbye, Mr Jefferies.|See you tomorrow.
- And don't sleep in that chair again.|- Uh-huh.
"Uh-huh. Uh-huh."|Great conversationalist.
Take those binoculars out|and bring them here, will you?
I can smell it.
I'll be glad when they crack|that cast, and I can get outta here.
How far does a girl have to go|before you'll notice her?
Well, if she's pretty enough,|she doesn't have to go anywhere.
She just has to "be.'
Well, ain't I?
Pay attention to me.
I'm not exactly|on the other side of the room.
Your mind is...|And when|I want a man, I want all of him.
Don't you ever have any problems?
I have one now.
So do I.
Tell me about it.
Why would a man leave|his apartment three times
On a rainy night with a suitcase,|and come back three times?
He likes the way his wife|welcomes him home.
No, no. Not this salesman's wife.
And why didn't he go to work today?
Homework. It's more interesting.
What's interesting about a butcher knife
And a small saw
Wrapped in newspaper?
Nothing, thank heaven.
Why hasn't he been|in his wife's bedroom all day?
I wouldn't dare answer that.
Well, listen. I'll answer it, Lisa.
There's something terribly wrong.
- And l'm afraid it's with me.|- What do you think?
Something too frightful to utter.
He went out a few minutes|ago in his undershirt, hasn't come back.
That would be a terrible job to tackle.
Just how would you start|to cut up a human body?
Jeff, I'll be honest with you.|You're beginning to scare me.
Jeff, did you hear what I said?|You're beginning to scare -
Shh! He's coming back!
- Jeff, if you could only see yourself!|- What's the matter?
Sitting around looking out of the|window to kill time is one thing,
But doing it the way|you are with binoculars
And wild opinions about every|little thing you see is diseased!
Do you think I consider it recreation?
I don't know what you consider it,
But if you don't stop it,|I'm getting out of here.
- What's the |- What is it you're looking for?
I just want to find out what's|the matter with the salesman's wife.
Does that make me|sound like a madman?
What makes you think there's|something the matter with her?
A lot of things. She's an invalid.|She demands constant care.
Yet not the husband or anybody else|has been in to see her all day. Why?
- Maybe she died.|- Where's the doctor?
Where's the undertaker?
She could be sleeping, under sedatives.
He's in there now.|There's nothing to see.
There is something.|I've seen it through that window.
I've seen bickering and family quarrels
And mysterious trips at night
And knives and saws and rope.
Now, since last evening, not a sign|of the wife. Tell me where she is.
- I don't know.|- What's she doing?
Maybe he's leaving his wife.|I don't know. I don't care!
Lots of people have knives and saws|and ropes around their houses.
And lots of men don't speak|to their wives all day.
Lots of wives nag and|men hate them and trouble starts,
But few of them end up in murder,|if that's what you're thinking.
It's pretty hard for you to keep|away from that word, isn't it?
You could see all that he did,|couldn't you?
- Of course, I |- You could see coś the shades were up
And he walked along the corridor|and the street and the backyard.
I've seen him -
Jeff, do you think a murderer|would let you see all that?
That he wouldn't pull the shades|down and hide behind them?
He's being clever. He's being nonchalant.
And that's|where you're not bring clever.
A murderer would never parade|his crime in front of an open window.
For all you know, there's|something sinister going on there.
Let's start|from the beginning again, Jeff.
Tell me everything you saw
And what you think it means.
- |- yeah?
"The name on the second floor
Rear mail box reads,|'Mr and Mrs Lars'."
What's the number of the apartment?
"125 West Ninth Street."
Thank you, dear.
"OK, chief.|What's my next assignment?"
Just go home.
'Alright, but what's he doing now?"
He's just sitting|in the living room in the dark.
Hasn't gone near the bedroom.
Now you go home|and get some sleep. Good night.
"What's it about, Jeff?"
Look, Doyle,|I can't tell you over the phone.
You have to be here|and see the whole set-up.
It's probably nothing.|It's just a little neighbourhood murder.
- "Did you say murder?"|- Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.
"Oh, come now."
My only thought was throwing a little|business your way, that's all.
I figured a detective would jump at|the chance of something to detect.
- "l'm not working."|- What?
"This happens to be my day off."
I usually took my best pictures|on my day off.
- "l'll drop by."|- OK, Doyle. As soon as you can.
Bless your heart, Stella.
Gee whiz, look at this.
I can't tell you|what a welcome sight this is.
No wonder your husband still loves you.
- The police.|- What?
- You called the police.|- Well, not exactly.
Not an official call.|It's an old friend of mine.
An old, ornery friend of mine.
Just where do you suppose|he cut her up?
Of course. The bathtub.
That's the only place where|he could have washed away the blood.
He better get that trunk out|of there before it starts to leak.
Look, look, Mr Jefferies.
I thought Doyle would be here|by the time the trunk left,
Or I'd have called the police.|Now we're gonna lose it.
- Hold everything.|- Don't do anything foolish.
I'm just gonna get the name|off that freight truck.
I'll keep an eye on the alley.
You didn't see the killing or the body.|How do you know there was a murder?
Because everything this fellow's done|has been suspicious:
Trips at night in the rain,|knives and saws and trunks with rope,
And now this wife|that isn't there any more.
I admit it all has a mysterious sound.
It could be any number of things.|Murder's the least possible.
Doyle, don't tell me|he's an unemployed magician,
Amusing the neighbourhood|with his sleight of hand.
Don't tell me that.
It's too obvious and stupid|a way to commit murder.
In full view of 50 windows?
Then sit there smoking a cigar,|waiting for the police to pick him up.
Alright, officer, do your duty.|Go over and pick him up.
Jeff, you've got a lot|to learn about homicide.
Why, morons have committed|murder so shrewdly,
It's taken a hundred trained|police minds to catch them.
That salesman wouldn't just|knock his wife off after dinner
And toss her in the trunk|and put her in storage.
I'll bet it's been done.
Most everything's been done...|Under panic.
This is a thousand-to-one shot.
He's still sitting around the apartment.|That man's not panicked.
You think I made all this up?
Well, I think you saw something
There's probably|a very simple explanation for.
- For instance?|- Wife took a trip.
His wife was sick in bed.
yeah, so you told me.
Well, Jeff, I've got to run along.
I won't report this to the department.|Let me poke into it a little on my own.
No sense in your getting|a lot of ridiculous publicity.
We know the wife is gone,|so I'll see if I can find out where.
You had any headaches lately?
Not till you showed up.
It will wear off,|along with the hallucinations.
See you around.
- Get along.|-
He has a six months" lease.
Used up a little more than|five and a half months of it.
He's quiet,|drinks, but not to drunkenness.
Pays his bills promptly|with money earned
As a costume jewellery salesman:|wholesale.
Kept to himself. No neighbours|got close to him or his wife.
yeah, well, I think|they missed their chance with her.
She never left the apartment,|until yesterday morning.
- What time?|- 6:00am.
I think that's|about the time I fell asleep.
Thorwalds were leaving|their apartment at just that time.
Feel a little foolish?
No, not yet.
- How's your wife?|- Oh, she's fine.
Who said they left then?
- W-Who left where?|- The Thorwalds, at 6:00am.
Oh, the building superintendent|and two tenants.
Flat statements, no hesitation.|They jived with the letter.
Thorwalds were on their way|to the railroad station.
Well, now, Tom, how could|anybody possibly guess that?
What, did they have signs|on their luggage saying,
'Grand Central, or bust'?
The superintendent|met Thorwald on his way back.
Thorwald told him that he'd put|his wife on a train to the country.
I see. I'd say this is a pretty|convenient guy, this superintendent.
Have you checked|his bank statements lately?
- Huh?|- Well, what good's his information?
It's a secondhand version of|an unsupported story by the murderer.
Now did anybody actually see|the wife get on the train?
I hate to remind you,
But this all started because|you said she was murdered.
Now, did anyone, including you,|actually see her murdered?
What are you doing?
Are you interested in solving|this case or making me look foolish?
Well, if possible, both.
Then do a good job of it.
Go over there and search|Thorwald's apartment.
It must be knee-deep in evidence.
I can't do that.
l don't mean right now,|but when he goes out for a drink,
Or a paper, or something.|What he doesn't know won't hurt him.
I can't do that even if he isn't there.
Does he have a courtesy card from|the police department or something?
Now don't get me mad.
Not even a detective can walk|into an apartment and search it.
If I were caught in there, they'd|have my badge within ten minutes.
Make sure|you don't get caught, that's all.
If you find something,|you've got a murderer,
And they don't care about|a couple of house rules.
If you don't find anything,|the fellow's clear.
At the risk of sounding stuffy,
I'd like to 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.|- Give him evidence.
yeah, I can hear myself,
"Your Honour, I have a friend|who's an amateur sleuth."
"The other night, after|having a heavy dinner, he..."
He'd throw the New York State|penal code in my face,
And there's six volumes.
By tomorrow morning there|may not be any evidence left
Over in that apartment, you know that.
It's a detective's nightmare.
What do you need|before you can search?
Tell me now, what do you need?
Bloody footsteps|leading up to the door?
One thing I don't need is heckling.|You called me and asked for help.
Now you're behaving like a taxpayer.
How did we ever|stand each other in that plane
For three years during the war?
I guess I'll go over|to the railroad station
And check on Thorwald's story.
Oh, forget about the story.
Find the trunk. Mrs Thorwald's in it.
Oh, I almost forgot.
There was a postcard|in Thorwald's mailbox. It was...
Mailed 3:30 yesterday|afternoon from Merritsville.
That's 80 miles north of here.
Message went: "Arrived OK.
Already feeling better. Love, Anna.'
Uh...|Is that, um...
Anna...|Is that who I think it is?
- Mrs Thorwald.|- Uh-huh.
Oh, so anything you need, Jeff?
You might send me a good detective.
- "Hello? Yes?"|- Hello, Miss Doyle?
This is Jeff again.|Has Tom come in yet?
"Not yet, Jeff."
You mean you haven't|even heard from him?
"Not a word.|Ls it something really important, Jeff?"
yeah, I'm afraid it is.
"l'll have him call the moment|l hear from him."
No, no, don't bother to do that.
Just have him get over here|as soon as he can.
Looks like Thorwald's|pulling out tonight.
- " Who's Thorwald?"|- He'll know, he'll know.
And Thorwald's a man, don't worry.
- "Good night, you idiot."|- Good night.
Long distance again.
There's somebody at the door.
- Hi.|- Hello.
- What'd you do to your hair?|- Oh, I just -
Take a look at Thorwald.|He's getting ready to pull out.
He doesn't seem to be in any hurry.
He's been laying out all|his things on one of the beds:
Shirts, suits, coats, socks.
Even that alligator handbag|his wife left on the bedpost.
He had it hidden in the dresser.|At least, it was there.
He took it out, went to the telephone|and made a long distance call.
He had his wife's jewellery|in the handbag.
Seemed worried about it.|Asked someone's advice over the phone.
Someone not his wife.
Well, I never saw him|ask her for advice.
She volunteered plenty,|but I never saw him ask her for any.
- I wonder where he's going.|- I don't know.
- Suppose he doesn't come back?|- He'll be back. His things are there.
- I guess it's safe to put on lights.|- No, not yet!
OK, you can turn it on now. He must|have gone someplace to the right.
All day long, I've been trying|to keep my mind on my work.
- Thinking about Thorwald?|- And you, and your friend, Doyle.
- Did you hear from him since he left?|- Not a word.
He said he was gonna check|the railroad station and the trunk.
He must be still at it.
Something on your mind?
- It doesn't make sense to me.|- What doesn't?
Women aren't that unpredictable.
Hmm. Well, I can't guess|what you're thinking.
A woman has a favourite handbag,
And it always hangs on her bedpost|where she can get at it easily.
Then, all of a sudden, she goes away|on a trip and leaves it behind. Why?
Because she didn't know|she was going on a trip,
And where she's going,|she wouldn't need the handbag.
Yes, but only her husband|would know that.
And that jewellery - Women don't|keep their jewellery in a purse
Getting all twisted|and scratched and tangled up.
Well, do they hide it|in their husband's clothes?
They do not.|And they don't leave it behind either.
Why, a woman going anywhere|but the hospital
Would always take make-up,|perfume and jewellery.
Put that over there.|That's inside stuff, huh?
It's basic equipment.
And you don't leave it behind in|your husband's drawer
In your favourite handbag.
Well, I'm with you, sweetie.|I'm with you.
Tom Doyle has a pat answer|for that though.
That Mrs Thorwald left at 6:00am|yesterday with her husband?
According to those witnesses.
Well, I have a pat rebuttal|for Mr Doyle.
Couldn't have been Mrs Thorwald,|or I don't know women.
- What about the witnesses?|- We'll agree they saw a woman,
But she was not Mrs Thorwald.
- That is, not yet.|- Is that so?
I'd like to see your friend's face|when we tell him.
He doesn't sound|like much of a detective.
Oh, don't be too hard on him.|He's a steady worker.
I sure wish he'd show up.
Don't rush him. We have all night.
- We have all what?|- Night.
I'm going to stay with you.
Well, you'll have to clear that|with my landlord.
I have the whole weekend off.
That's very nice,|but I just have one bed.
If you say anything else, I'll...|Stay tomorrow night too.
I won't be able|to give you any...|Pyjamas.
You said I'll have|to live out of one suitcase.
- I'll bet yours isn't this small.|- This is a suitcase?
Well, a Mark Cross overnight case.
- Ooh.|- Compact, but, uh...|Ample enough.
Looks like you packed in a hurry.
Look at this. Isn't that amazing?
I'll trade you...|My feminine intuition|for a bed for the night.
I'll go along with that.
There's that song again.
Where does a man get inspiration|to write a song like that?
Well, he gets it from|the landlady once a month.
It's utterly beautiful.
- I wish I could be creative.|- Oh, sweetie, you are.
Y-Y-You have a great talent for|creating difficult situations.
- I do?|- Sure.
Like staying here all night uninvited.
Well, surprise is the most|important element of attack.
Besides, you're not up on|your private eye literature.
When they're in trouble,|it's always their Girl Friday
That gets them out of it.
Is she the girl that|saves them from the clutches
Of the over-passionate|daughters of the rich?
- The same.|- That's the one, huh?
It's funny. He never ends|up marrying her, does he?
- That's strange.|- Weird.
Why don't I slip into something|more comfortable?
By all means.
I mean, like the kitchen|and make us some coffee.
Oh, and some brandy too, huh?
- Jeff.|- Hi.
What else have you got|on this man Thorwald?
Enough to scare me you wouldn't|show up in time and we'd lose him.
- Think he's getting out of here?|- He's got everything he owns
Laid out over there in the bedroom,|waiting to be packed.
I'm just warming some brandy.|Mr Doyle, I presume?
Tom, this is Miss Lisa Fremont.
- How do you do?|- We think Thorwald's guilty.
- Hello.|- Lieutenant Doyle.
yeah, he's right here. For you.
- Hello.|- Lieutenant Doyle, sir?
I see. Thank you...|Goodbye.
Coffee will be ready soon.
Jeff, aren't you going to tell him|about the jewellery?
He's got his wife's jewellery hidden|in his clothes in the bedroom there.
- You sure it belonged to his wife?|- It was in her favourite handbag.
Mr Doyle, that can only lead|to one conclusion.
That it was not Mrs Thorwald that|left with him yesterday morning.
You figured that out, eh?
It's simply that women|don't leave their jewellery behind
When they go on a trip.
Come on, Tom. You don't really need|any of this information, do you?
As a matter of fact, I don't.
Lars Thorwald is no more|a murderer than I am.
You can explain everything|that's going on over there?
No, and neither can you.
That's a secret, private world|you're looking into out there.
People do a lot of things in private|they couldn't do in public.
Like disposing of their wives?
Get that idea out of your mind.|It'll only lead in the wrong direction.
What about the knife and the saw?
- Did you ever own a saw?|- Well, at home in the garage I had -
How many people|did you cut up with it?
Or with the couple hundred knives|you've owned in your lifetime?
Your logic is backward.
You can't ignore the disappearance|and the trunk and the jewellery.
I checked the railroad station.|He bought a ticket.
Ten minutes later,|he put his wife on the train.
Destination: Merritsville.|The witnesses are that deep.
That might have been a woman, but|it couldn't have been Mrs Thorwald.
- That jewellery |- Look, Miss Fremont.
That feminine intuition stuff|sells magazines
But in real life, it's still a fairy tale.
I don't know how many|wasted years I've spent,
Tracking down leads|based on female intuition.
Alright!|l take it you didn't find the trunk.
All this is from an old speech|you made at the policemen's ball.
I found the trunk|a half-hour after I left here.
I suppose it's normal for a man|to tie up a trunk with heavy rope?
If the lock is broken, yes.
What did you find inside the trunk,|a surly note to me?
Mrs Thorwald's clothes;
Clean, well-packed,|not stylish, but presentable.
Didn't you take them off|to the crime lab?
I sent them on their merry|and legal way.
Why, when a woman is taking|a simple, short trip,
Does she take everything she owns?
Let's let the female psychology|department handle that one.
I would say it looked as if|she wasn't coming back.
That's what's|known as a family problem.
If she wasn't coming back,|why didn't he tell his landlord?
I'll tell you why|he didn't tell his landlord,
Because he was hiding something.
Do you tell your landlord everything?
Ah, I told you to be careful, Tom.
If I'd have been careful|piloting that reconnaissance plane
You wouldn't have had the chance|to take the pictures
That won you a medal,|and a good job, and fame, and money.
What do you say, we all sit|down and have a nice friendly drink.
Forget all about this.
We can tell lies about|the good old days during the war.
You mean|you're through with the case?
There is no case|to be through with, Miss Fremont.
How about that drink?
yeah, I guess you're right.
Well, I think I better get home|and get some sleep.
I, uh...|I'm not much of a snifter.
Oh, Jeff, if you need any more help...
Consult the Yellow Pages|in your telephone directory.
Oh, I love funny exiting lines.
- Who was that trunk addressed to?|- Mrs Anna Thorwald.
Then let's wait and find out|who picks it up.
Oh, that phone call,|I gave them your number.
- I hope you don't mind.|- Depends on who they were.
The police at Merritsville.
They reported|the trunk was just picked up...
By Mrs Anna Thorwald.
Don't stay up too late.
- Look.|- What?
yeah, he's kind of young, isn't he?
What are you doing?
You know, much as I hate to give|Thomas J Doyle too much credit,
He might have gotten ahold|of something when he said
That was pretty private|stuff going on out there.
I wonder if it's ethical to watch a man
With binoculars and a long-focus lens.
Do you suppose it's ethical, even if you|prove that he didn't commit a crime?
I'm not much on rear window ethics.
Of course,|they can do the same thing to me,
Watch me like a bug under a glass,|if they want to.
Jeff, if someone came in here,|they wouldn't believe what they'd see.
- What?|- You and me with long faces,
Plunged into despair because|we find out a man didn't kill his wife.
We're two of the most|frightening ghouls I've ever known.
You'd think we could be a bit happy|that the poor woman is alive and well.
Whatever happened to that old|saying, "Love thy neighbour'?
You know, I think I'll start|reviving that tomorrow.
yeah, I'll begin with Miss Torso.
Not if I have to move into|an apartment across the way...
And do the "Dance of the Seven Veils'|every hour.
Show's over for tonight.
Preview of coming attractions.
Did Mr Doyle think I stole this case?
No, Lisa, I don't think he did.
- What do you think?|- Well, uh...
- I will rephrase the question.|- Thank you.
Do you like it?
- Yes, I like it.|- Well -
What's the matter?
- Somebody's hurt?|- lt's the dog.
Something's happened to the dog.
Somebody fall out a window?
I think it's a dog.
It's dead. It's been strangled.|Its neck is broken.
Which one of you did it?
Which one of you killed my dog?
You don't know the meaning|of the word "neighbours'.
Neighbours like each other,
Speak to each other,|care if anybody lives or dies!
But none of you do!
But I couldn't imagine|any of you being so low
That you'd kill a helpless, friendly dog.
The only thing in this whole|neighbourhood who liked anybody!
Did you kill him because he liked you?|Just because he liked you?
Let's go inside.
- Come on. Let's go back in.|- It's only a dog.
You know, for a minute,|that Tom Doyle almost had me
Convinced I was wrong.
- But you're not?|- Look.
In the courtyard, only one person|didn't come to the window. Look.
Why would Thorwald|want to kill a little dog?
Because it knew too much?
You think this is worth|waiting all day to see?
ls he cleaning house?
He's washing down the bathroom walls.
Hm, must have splattered a lot.
Well, why not?|That's what we're all thinking.
He killed her in there,|he has to clean up those stains.
Oh, Stella, your choice of words.
Nobody ever invented|a polite word for a killing yet.
Lisa, back there on that shelf,|there's a little yellow box, you see it?
- Top one?|- Right on top, yeah.
And bring me the viewer there.
I just got a...|These are about two weeks old.
I hope I took something else|besides leg art. Now which one...
What are you looking for?
There's something, and if I'm right,|I think I've solved a murder.
- Mrs Thorwald?|- No.
No, the dog.
Uh-huh. I think I know|why Thorwald killed that dog.
Here, now you take a look.|Tell me what you see.
Now take it down.
Now look again.
Now take it down. You see?
It's just a picture of the backyard -
But with one important change.|One important change.
Those flowers|in Thorwald's pet flower bed.
You mean where the dog|was sniffing around?
Where the dog was digging.|Now look at those flowers.
Look, those two yellow zinnias|on this end
Aren't as tall as they were.
Since when do flowers|grow shorter in two weeks?
- There's something buried there.|- Mrs Thorwald.
You haven't spent much time|around cemeteries, have you?
Mr Thorwald could scarcely|put his wife's body
In a plot of ground|about one foot square.
Unless, of course,|he put her in standing on end,
And then he wouldn't need|a knife and saw.
No, my idea is she's|scattered all over town.
- Leg in the East River |- Oh, Stella, please!
No, no, no. There's something in there.
Those flowers have been|taken out and put back in.
- Maybe it's the knife and saw.|- yeah -
- Call Lieutenant Doyle.|- No, let's wait.
Let's wait till it gets a little darker,|and I'll go over there and dig them up.
You'll go? You won't dig anything up|and get your neck broken.
No, no, we've...
We're not gonna call Doyle until|I can produce Mrs Thorwald's body.
What we've got to do is find a way|to get into that apartment.
Here, get me a pencil.
Stella, get me some note paper.|It's up here someplace.
There it is.
You did it, Thorwald. You did it.
- Look out, Lisa. He's coming.|- You never should have let her do it.
- If he ever |- Look. Look. Look.
Thank heaven that's over.
- Alright if I have a drink?|- Sure, go ahead.
There's no doubt about it. He's leaving.|Lt's just a question of when.
Mind if I use that portable keyhole?
Go ahead, just as long as you tell me|what you're looking at.
- l wonder...|- Wonder what?
Miss Lonelyhearts just laid out|something that looks like
Rhodium tri-eckonal capsules.
- You can tell from here?|- l've handled enough of those
To put everybody in Hackensack|to sleep for the winter.
- Does she have enough of them to |- To make her rest easier -
- |- Wasn't that close?
What was his reaction|when he looked at the note?
lt wasn't the kind|of expression that would get him
A quick loan at the bank.
Jeff, the handbag!
Suppose Mrs Thorwald's wedding ring
Is among the jewellery|he has in that handbag?
Now, during the phone conversation|he held up three rings:
One with a diamond,|one with a big stone of some sort,
And then just a plain gold band.
The last thing she would leave behind|would be her wedding ring.
Stella,|do you ever leave yours at home?
The only way anybody could get that|ring would be to chop off my finger.
Let's go down and find out|what's buried in the garden.
Why not? I've always wanted|to meet Mrs Thorwald.
- What are you two talking about |- You got a shovel?
Of course I don't have a shovel.
- There's probably one in the basement.|- If you're squeamish, just don't look.
Squeamish? I'm not squeamish.
I just don't want you two|to end up like that dog.
Oh, you know, Miss Fremont,|he might just have something there.
Just hold on. Here, take this.
No sense taking any chances|in this thing.
Here, give me the phone book.
Maybe I can|get him out of that apartment.
We only need a few minutes.
I'll see if I can get about 15 minutes.
- How?|- Thorwald.
We scared him once,|maybe we can scare him again.
I guess I'm using that word|'we" a little freely.
You're taking all the chances.
- Shall we vote him in, Stella?|- Unanimously.
2-7099. Look out.
Go on, pick it up, Thorwald.
Go on, you're curious.
You wonder if it's your girlfriend|calling, the one you killed for.
Go on, pick it up.
- "Hello?"|- Did you get my note?
Well, did you get it, Thorwald?
"Who are you?"
l'll give you a chance to find out.
Meet me|in the bar at the Albert Hotel.
Do it right away.
- "Why should l?"|- A little business meeting...
To settle the estate of your late wife.
"l...|Don't know what you mean."
Come on. Quit stalling, Thorwald,
Or l'll hang up and call the police.
- "l only have $100."|- That's a start.
L'm at the Albert now.|I'll be looking for you.
Come on, Stella, let's go.
One of you|keep an eye on this window.
Lf l see him coming back,|l'll signal with a flashbulb.
"This is the Doyle residence."
Hello, this is L B Jefferies.|I'm a friend of Mr Doyle.
- Who's this?|- "This is a baby-sitter."
Oh, uh...|When do you expect them in?
"They went to dinner and|maybe a nightclub."
I see, hm.
Lf he calls in, have him get|in touch with L B Jefferies?
I might have quite a surprise for him.
"Well, do we have|your number, Mr Jefferies?"
- He has it. Good night.|- "Good night."
Ah, Stella was wrong|about Miss Lonelyhearts.
Lisa, what are you...|Don't...
Lisa, what are you doing? Don't go...
Come on, come on!|Get out of there!
She said ring Thorwald's phone|the second you see him come back.
We'll ring right now!| Give her another minute.
Alright, fellows,|let's try it once from the beginning.
Oh, call the police!
- "Operator."|- Get me the police, sixth precinct.
Mr Jefferies, the music stopped her.
"Precinct Six, Sergeant Allgood."
Hello. Look, a man is assaulting|a woman at 125 West Ninth Street,
Second floor, at the rear.
Make it fast!
- "Your name?"|- L B Jefferies.
- "Phone number?"|- Chelsea 2-5598
The door was open.
- I told you...|- Oh, no!
Let go of me! Jeff!
- Oh, no! |- Jeff! Jeff!
Stella, what do we do?
- Jeff! Jeff!|- Here they come.
What's she trying to do?|Why doesn't she turn him in?
- She's a smart girl.|- "Smart girl?" She'll be arrested.
lt'll get her out of there, won't it?
Look, the wedding ring!
Turn off the light! He's seen us!
How long do you think he'll stay there?
Unless he's dumber than I think,|he won't wait until his lease is up.
Get my billfold out of the drawer|in the table there.
- What do you need money for?|- I'm gonna bail Lisa out of jail.
You could leave her there|till next Tuesday.
Then you could sneak|safely away as planned.
- yeah, let's see, $127.|- How much do you need?
Well, this is first offence burglary,|that's about $250.
- Lisa's handbag.|- yeah.
- How much does she have?|- Fifty cents.
- Here, take this.|- l got $20 or so in my purse.
What about the rest?
When those cops see Lisa,|they'll even contribute.
Just a minute. Hurry up!
- Jefferies.|- "What is it now?"
Doyle, I've got something|really big for you.
"Why did l have to return your call?"
"Look! Don't louse up my night|with another mad killer -"
Listen to me! Listen to me!|Lisa's in jail. She got arrested.
- "Your Lisa?"|- My Lisa.
Boy, you should have seen her.|She got into Thorwald's apartment,
But then he came back
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