"## [theme]" "The child was placed here some nineteen years ago." "I don't see how she can be of any concern to the orphanage now." "Quite true, Mr. Renshaw." "But as I told you on the telephone-- regulations." "Reuniting a child with a long lost parent-- certainly the regulations can be relaxed a bit." "There are other ways of tracing her, you know-- state records, for instance." "No, the family would like everything handled very discreetly." "Discreetly, of course." "There's a great deal of money involved." "Ah yes, money." "It's usually that." "I, uh, took it on myself, Mr. Link, to suggest to her mother that a contribution would certainly help the fine work you're doing here." "We have accumulated a lot of files in all these years." "And I believe you stated the child was abandoned." "Therefore, no identity." "Though, of course, there's usually some clue." "Her first name was Maureen." "I happen to know the approximate date she was left here-- the month, at any rate." "That should narrow it down." "Suppose we go along to the file room and see." "Fine." "That's quite an animal you have there." "A lion, isn't it?" "Does it have a name?" "I know-- it's a cat and it took your tongue." "You about through, Mr. Renshaw?" "Just another minute." "I'll have to lock this door while I go down to the gates for a moment." "Some stranger's talking to one of the children." "Maureen." "All right, Pop, what do you want?" "Now, honey, that's no way to talk." "Would you come and sit down?" "Someone's meeting me." "You can spare a minute, can't you?" "It's been two years since you've been home." "Home?" "Well, no, I guess it wasn't very much, but I thought you might come out to see your old foster-pop once in a while for old times' sake." "Look, there was a fella was over at the house asking about you yesterday." "His name's Renshaw." "What's he selling?" "Nothing." "He said he was your uncle Burt." "I showed him your picture." "My uncle?" "Oh, he was a salesman!" "Did you tell him where to find me?" " No." " Well, don't!" "It's possible he could be your uncle, isn't it?" "How would I know?" "And for that matter, how would he know?" "Look, what do you want me to tell this fella, huh?" "You just tell him that I left home five years ago and haven't returned since." "It's half true anyway." "Oh, look, Pop, he's a phony." "And even if he isn't, I don't need him." "You don't need anybody, do you?" "Only the friends I choose." "Do you need any money?" "I've never asked you for anything yet, have I?" "Well, this won't spoil your record." "I'll try to get out and see you some time." "Your flight was announced a half an hour ago." "What did you do, take the train?" "The pilot got fresh over Fresno, and I had to walk home." "Fresh over Fresno?" "Well, aren't you going to punch him or something?" "And have a shiner for tomorrow?" "Oh, no." "I'm a lover, not a fighter." "What's tomorrow?" "Well, I thought we'd drop in on my family and let them meet the girl I'm going to marry." "Oh no, Rich." "Have you told them I'm an orphan?" "Well, no." "But I didn't tell them you were a registered foreign agent, either." "Aw, they'll get used to it, darling." "Besides, that's not really important to anybody." "Except to an orphan." "Come on in out of the storm, orphan." "May I help you?" "Oh, yes." "Is Mr. Renshaw in, please?" "It's a personal matter." " Yes." "Right in the office." " Uh" " You can go right in." " Oh, thank you." "Yeah?" "Oh." "Come in, come in, Mr. Thomas." "Ha ha." "Nice to see you." "I suppose you've talked to Maureen." "Of course you have, or else you wouldn't be here, right?" "She doesn't want to see you, Mr. Renshaw." "Well, that's hardly the point." "But I do want to see her." "She doesn't think you're her uncle." "Oh?" "Well, I've got $20 here that says she's wrong." "What do you think of that?" "When we got her from the orphanage, they didn't even know her last name." "It's Renshaw." "She was my brother's child." "That should prove that I'm her uncle, shouldn't it?" "Seems reasonable enough to me, but" "Oh, wait a minute." "I got a little something here for you." "A little souvenir." "Why, that's me!" "How in the world did you ever get that?" "Professional secret." "Took it when you were in here yesterday." "Go ahead." "Put it in your pocket." "Well." "Thanks." "Oh, how are you, Mr. Grove?" " Will you come on in?" " Sure." "I'm just putting through a call to New York." "To Maureen's mother." "Well, it seems I dropped in at the right time." "She'll be very happy to know you and I bumped into each other because I've found out where Maureen is." "Really?" "Hello?" "Yes." "I'm calling Mrs. Arturo Fernaldi." "Yes, thank you." "Her second husband was Italian." "Died several years ago." "She's still an Italian citizen, though." "Spent most of the time traveling with a woman companion." "Now the woman drowned in a boating accident of some sort, and Mrs. Fernaldi's all alone." "I suppose I told you about that." "No." "No, you didn't." "Hello." "Mrs. Fernaldi?" "James Grove." "Oh." "How sweet of you to call, Mr. Grove." "Where are you?" "In Los Angeles." "I have some news for you about Maureen." "Good news, Mr. Grove?" "Oh." "Wait." "Let me sit down before you tell me." "It's all right." "I'm quite all right." "You were saying, Mr. Grove?" "I've succeeded in locating your daughter." "Oh!" "Oh, my dear, that's wonderful." "Oh, I" " I think I'm going to cry." "They've found my little girl." "Oh, I" " I can't talk." "Uh, just a moment." "Get all the details for me, will you, George, and tell that wonderful young man that I'll be the first plane to Los Angeles." "This is a friend of Mrs. Fernaldi." "We met on a plane." "She's rather excited." "I think she took it very well." "Yes, I'll take care of everything at this end." "Good night, sir." "You might have let me talk to her." " Why?" " Why?" "Because she's my sister-in-law." "That's why." "She probably doesn't even know I'm still alive!" "I didn't realize you had such strong family feelings, Mr. Renshaw-- after all these years, too." "Excuse me." "Just a minute, Mr. Grove." "There's something else you'd better realize, too." "I'm the only one who happens to know where to find Maureen." "You tell Angela to get in touch with me." "I don't think your help will be needed in the future, Mr. Renshaw." "Maureen?" "Maureen, this is your Uncle Burt." "I didn't even know I have an uncle." "You may not see him again for another twenty years." "Goodbye, Mr. Renshaw." "Now just a minute, Mr. Grove." "I said goodbye, Mr. Renshaw!" "It's a swindle, Mr. Mason." "It's an out-and-out swindle." "That's all it is." "Grove is trying to pass off that girl as Angela's daughter." "I don't know where he dug her up, but I do know he hasn't got any real evidence to go on." "Just pieces of incomplete records, maybe." "But he's not going to get away with it." "I imagine Mr. Grove will make the same charge against you." "So let's see what there is in the way of evidence." "Well, to begin with, Maureen was left at the Bolton Hall Orphanage when she was a year and a half old." "Two years later, she was placed in a foster home in Orangedale." "The foster family's name is Thomas." "As I understand it, she was abandoned with no identity other than a first name." "Well, yeah, that's true but" "Were you familiar with the circumstances?" "Well, certainly." "My brother divorced Angela and got custody of the child." "He was awarded custody?" "Why not the mother?" "Because she was an alcoholic." "Isn't that nice!" "I'm only telling you the way it was." "Then Ed went into the Navy, so he left her on the orphanage steps" "I must've been a beautiful baby, hmm?" "Look, Ed didn't consult with me about it." "I was a bachelor, and if I'd known, I'd have done something about it myself!" "Anyway, after Ed's sub sunk," "I did send money every year or so to the orphanage, to get you a few extras." "Did you do this anonymously?" "Well, yeah." "I thought it best at the time." "Then there is still no positive proof that this particular Maureen is your niece." "How do you feel about it, Miss Thomas?" "Oh, very wanted." "Look, I have a date in forty minutes with my future in-laws, if they want me." "Wait a minute." "You can't just walk out on Angela like this." "Why not?" "She did it to me." "But that was twenty years ago." "She's straightened herself out now." "How do you know that, Mr. Renshaw?" "Well, Grove told me she married this Italian-- a big industrialist." "He left her plenty, I guess." "A villa in Rome, a place on the Riviera, Paris every spring." "Oh, she's got plenty of money, all right." "I mean, why would Grove pull in this phony on us?" "Now here's my plan" "I'm not interested in any of your plans, Mr. Renshaw." "I think it would be wiser to let Mr. Mason handle this for me." "So that's the way it is, huh?" "Okay, try it and good luck." "But I happen to know something nobody else does." "And make no mistake." "You'll all be coming back to Uncle Burt before this whole thing is over." "[door opens, closes]" "Don't look at me that way, Mr. Mason." "Maybe I could use somebody important in my background." "Well, now what's the first move?" "Say, you by any chance Maureen's young man she's been talking about?" "I must be." "I'm her uncle Burt" " Burt Renshaw." "Oh?" "I didn't know Maureen had an uncle." "Well, in that case, I think we'd better get acquainted." "Suppose I give you a call one of these days." "Fine, do that." "Here." "You can reach me at this number." " Richard Campion, eh?" " Right." "Yeah, I'll" " I'll be calling you." "Good." "...so there I was on a roller coaster 20,000 feet over the continental divide with my seatbelt fastened and nothing but one of those ridiculous paper sacks." "Oh-- you were queasy, Richard?" "Yes, Mother." "I was queasy, all right." "The stewardess can vouch for that." "Yes." "He was as green as a Martian." "Uh, do you suppose that Martians are really green?" "Well, if they are, I know exactly how they feel." "Yes, well, I must say that, well, planes have always frightened me." "Yes." "I should think your parents would worry about you constantly." "Oh, I do the worrying about her now." "All those handsome pilots" "My father is dead." "I'm so sorry." "He was a submarine commander." "He was sunk by an enemy." "[Mr. Campion] Fine tradition, the Navy." "My mother's lived in Europe ever since." "Why don't we all have another drink, huh?" "Her name is Mrs. Arturo Fernaldi." "[phone rings] [ring]" "Hello." "Oh, yes." "Just a minute, please." "Maureen, it's for you." "It's not the Prince of Monaco, but take it anyway." "Don't be surprised if it's all true." "Hello." "Hello, Maureen." "This is your uncle Burt." "Surprised to hear from me so soon?" "How did you know I was here?" "Oh, I get around, Miss Thomas." "Angela arrived today." "I've been over to see her." "Did you have a nice family reunion?" "Well, I wouldn't want to say how nice it was, but I sure learned a lot." "Oh yes, it was very enlightening." "Am I her daughter?" "Well, now, suppose you come over here and I'll tell you, huh?" "I think we can do business." "All right?" "Here's the address." "Well, of course I'll come alone." "But it'll take me at least an hour." "Mr. Renshaw?" "[dialing]" "I've never met anyone named Pop Thomas, nor have I met a Richard Campion." ""Maureen" could be anybody." "The "Mason" probably is me, but what made you think so?" "His clerk, a Margaret MacDonald, said he had an appointment with you yesterday." "Yes." "He consulted me on a legal matter, but I haven't seen him since then." "You're not likely to now, Counselor." "He was murdered last night." " Where?" " In his camera shop in Hollywood." "That list was found on his desk beside the phone." "Looks like he made three calls, but never got around to the last one." "So far as I know, Lieutenant, he had no reason to phone me." "Hmm." "And you can't help us on those other three names?" "I'm afraid not." "I'll take care of this later, Della." "Thank you." "Doesn't the clerk at the camera shop know who these people are?" "Maybe." "But so far, she's just been hysterical." "Which probably means Miss MacDonald was very close to Renshaw." "Yes." "Maybe she can tell us a great deal." "If she ever stops being hysterical." "Oh, we'll calm her down, all right." "Della, get hold of Paul." "Have him make a fast check at the Bolton Hall Orphanage-- a baby left on the doorstep nineteen years ago." "She was a year and a half at the time and had only a first name" " Maureen." "Do you think it's really Miss Thomas?" "I think it would be a lucky accident if it were." "However, it looks as if Renshaw simply located a Maureen, any Maureen, in the hopes of foisting her off on Angela." "Oh, Miss Thomas" "Mr. Mason." "What are you doing out here?" "Waiting for you." "Well, it must be very important." "Am I really Angela's daughter?" "At the moment, there's no proof either way." "I've made an appointment for you to meet her tonight, that is if you want to." "If she's really my mother, why shouldn't I want to?" "Was Burt Renshaw your uncle?" "I have no idea." "Why do you say "was"?" "He was murdered last night." "Murdered?" "Why?" "Well, in my office, didn't he say in effect that he was the only one who could identify Angela's daughter?" "You mean now we'll never know." "I'd say your chance at the money is just as good as Maureen Franklin's." "Don't talk to me about money, Mr. Mason!" "I've been making my own living since I was sixteen years old, with no help from any mother or anyone else!" "I just think I need someone right now." "Why now?" "Because I went over to meet Rich's parents last night." "Do you want to know something funny?" "I suddenly realized I'm just a status seeker after all!" "I really want a mother." "I hope you get one." "You know, Mr. Mason, I'm rather glad" "California has jurisdiction in this parentage matter." "Why, Mr. Grove?" "If my firm knew you were representing the competition, they'd certainly send out the first team." "It's a great opportunity for me to be here." "I was under the impression that Mrs. Fernaldi was your client." "Well, my firm was retained to locate her daughter." "Having done that, it seems I have to verify it." "Can you do that, Mr. Grove?" "My mother will be" "Oh." "I mean Mrs. Fernaldi will be out in a moment." "Thank you." "Miss Franklin, this is Mr. Mason." " How do you do?" " How do you do?" "Oh, and Miss Thomas." "Oh." "So you're an alumnus of Bolton Hall, too." "Yeah, a refugee." "Oh, isn't this nice?" "We're all here." "And you must be Mr. Mason." "Yes." "You fit the voice." "Mr. Mason telephoned me today, and I was quite taken by his voice." "So often when one meets the person, well, they don't really match, if you know what I mean." "Oh, you must be Maureen." "One of them." "Let me look at you..." "Oh, you're-- you're quite lovely, but" "What is it, Mrs. Fernaldi?" "I just don't know." "I mean, one would think that a mother would know her own child by sheer instinct." "But of course, I was a very bad mother." "Oh, no." "I'm afraid it's dreadfully, unhappily true." "I abandoned you, my dear." "Or was it you?" "How does one tell?" "Mr. Mason, please help me." "What am I going to do?" "I'm afraid there's nothing for you to do, Mrs. Fernaldi." "If the records and the evidence available aren't conclusive," " a court will have to decide." " Oh." "Would you excuse me, please?" "Mr. Mason?" "Yes." "I'm afraid it's all terribly confusing, isn't it?" "I mean, you don't even know what to call me." "Mr. Mason, I have a considerable head start on you." "I'll try to catch up, Mr. Grove." "I have no doubt of that." "But I think you'll find the evidence tends to support Miss Franklin's claim." "There are certain blood tests which could be made." "They might eliminate either one of the girls." "Yes, yes, I've already made arrangements for that, but we don't have much data on the father's blood." "I take it you feel this should not go into court." "Well, I think it would certainly be presumptuous of me to give you advice." "Not at all." "I'd welcome it." "Well, I suppose you've heard of Burt Renshaw's murder." "Yes." "Well, I'm not suggesting your client isn't sincere in believing she's Mrs. Fernaldi's daughter." "However, if the tests should show against her or, more likely, if the court decides against her-- and I'm confident it will-- there could be an implication of attempted fraud." "And you think Renshaw was murdered because he knew of the fraud?" "I think that's what the police are bound to suspect, and it could put your client in an uncomfortable position." "Now, I'm sure she had nothing to do with the murder, or I wouldn't make the suggestion." "Are you as sure of your client-- Miss Franklin?" "Well, that's pretty farfetched, isn't it?" "Why?" "Until one or the other is proven to be Mrs. Fernaldi's daughter, they're interchangeable, aren't they?" "Della." " Oh, Perry." "Hello, Miss Thomas." " Hello." "Paul would like for you to meet him at this address as soon as possible." "All right." "I'll get right over there." "Mm-hmm." "And here's the latest edition." "I thought you might find it interesting." "Miss Thomas, I'll be gone about an hour." "I'd like you to stay here." "Why?" "Convenience." "I could use this picture on a passport." "How could they have gotten that picture, Maureen?" "I don't even remember having it taken." "Maybe nobody will recognize me." "I wouldn't count on that." "Good work, Paul." "These files aren't usually available without a court order." "I told the assistant director I knew Burt Renshaw got in on a little grease." "He became suddenly agreeable." "Where's Maureen's file?" "Which one?" "There have been half a dozen Maureens in this place." "Well, from the facts that Burt Renshaw gave us, you can eliminate most of them, can't you?" "Well, only two really fit, but that doesn't help much." "Here." "Look at the information on this tab." "It does not match the record inside." "Somebody did a real sloppy job of filing." "Maybe some of the pages could have been switched." "But this is obviously a file on Maureen Thomas." ""Found on orphanage doorstep August 8," and so forth." "What's wrong with that, Paul?" "That was the month that Renshaw said that his brother abandoned the baby." "I'm afraid you're backing a loser." "I checked Ed Renshaw's service record." "In August of that year, he was on submarine patrol in the Coral Sea." "He'd been there for a month." "What about this file?" "I traced this Maureen from the orphanage through three different foster homes, each one of which gave her a different last name." "What name is she using now?" "Maureen Franklin." " Well, hello, Andy." " Perry, Paul." "Have you seen this, Counselor?" " Yes." " "Do you know this girl?"" "But that's no longer the question." "She was identified by an airline as Maureen Thomas, one of their hostesses." "All I want to know now:" "can you tell me where this girl is?" "Let's go into my office, Andy." " Paul, I'll talk to you later." " Good luck." "Maureen, Lieutenant Anderson would like to ask you some questions." "In connection with the murder of Burt Renshaw." "All right." "Not here." "Downtown." "On what evidence?" "The background was trimmed off before the papers ran it." "You can see for yourself that this picture definitely places her in the camera shop." "Being in a place of business is hardly incriminating." "On the night of the murder?" " He was already dead" " Maureen, the Lieutenant forgot to warn you that anything you say may be used against you." "[Anderson] Okay, so you've said it for me." "Now you can tell me where you got this picture from." "Remember Renshaw's clerk?" "Margaret MacDonald." "She's not hysterical anymore." "Shall we go, Miss Thomas?" "Now let's see, Miss MacDonald, you say that you were employed by the late Burt Renshaw for how long?" "Twenty-one years." "Then it's fair to assume that you knew something about your employer's private life?" "A little." "Including the circumstances of his brother's child?" "Well, I didn't know his brother or his brother's wife." "But I helped take care of the baby after Ed was shipped out to the South Pacific nineteen years ago." "After he was shipped out?" "Then how could the brother have put the baby in the orphanage?" "He couldn't." "It was Burt Renshaw who did that." "When was this?" "Well, that's the trouble." "I don't remember the date, well, because he didn't tell me until after he'd done it." "And was that the last contact Burt Renshaw had with his niece?" "Until he went out to look for her just recently." "Went to find her with what results, Miss MacDonald?" "Well, he found a girl named Maureen." "Now, Miss MacDonald, I show you this photograph of the defendant." "I ask if there's anything about this photograph that you recognize." "Oh, yes, that was taken with Burt's secret camera." "Would you explain to us, please, what you mean by secret camera?" "Well, Burt set it up as a promotional gimmick." "Every customer that stepped on the mat in front of the cashier's desk took his own picture with a camera that was concealed in the wall." "Is there any way of telling when this particular picture was taken?" "Yes, I changed the film after closing time the evening of the murder." "So this picture would have to have been taken sometime later during that night." "And on that evening, did the decedent Burt Renshaw stay in the shop after closing hours?" "Yes." "He said he had to wait for somebody." "I had a girl friend with me." "She's sitting right over there, and she heard him say all the things I did." "Did he tell you who he was waiting for?" "No." "But he did say" ""I've discovered she's an impostor and a phony." "You better go on home."" "Than he was waiting for a woman who was an impostor and a phony?" "Well, that's all he told me." "So I said good night and left." "Thank you, Miss MacDonald." "That will be all." "You may cross-examine, Mr. Mason." "Miss MacDonald, nineteen years ago, did you register any objection to the placing of the defendant in an orphanage?" "Your Honor, I'll register an objection right now!" "Counsel knows perfectly well that the defendant has not been identified as Maureen Renshaw!" "Objection sustained." "Miss MacDonald, did you object to the Renshaw baby being abandoned?" "Well, it was too late for objections." "He did it without even telling me, even though I had offered to raise the baby myself if" "If what, Miss MacDonald?" "Well, Mr. Renshaw and I vaguely discussed the matter of marriage." "I see." "Now, leaving her on the orphanage doorstep wasn't Burt Renshaw's last contact with the baby, was it?" "Oh, yes, until he went out to look for her several days ago." "But isn't it true that Burt Renshaw made occasional anonymous contributions to the orphanage to be sent on for the care and support of the child?" "No." "I mean, yes, the money was sent to the orphanage, but I sent it." "Well, I took it out of the cash register." "Well, he could afford it." "It was the only decent thing he ever did, even though he didn't know he was doing it." "Yes, the orphanage records show that contributions were received at irregular intervals over the last nineteen years." "And you say that these were anonymous contributions?" "Yes, sir." "It started long before my tenure there." "However, there is a note on file that the money was to be used for extra benefits to a child named Maureen." "No further identification than that?" "None." "And, of course, there were several children of that name." "Of course." "What was then done with the money?" "One of my predecessors apparently deduced that it was intended for one of two particular Maureens, and his decision was to divide it equally between them." "We followed that policy." "Can you further identify for us the two particular Maureens to whom you refer?" "Well, I believe they are now known as Maureen Franklin and Maureen Thomas." "Thank you, sir." "When our Maureen-- the defendant-- first came to us, we got the regular amount for child support." "Then after a while, the orphanage started sending us more-- oh, $300 or so extra, every year, maybe." "How long did these extra payments continue, Mr. Thomas?" "Hmm, up to the present, I guess." "How many years has it been since Maureen left your home?" "About five years, I guess." "The orphanage was unaware of that?" "Well, no, I guess we just sort of pretended that" "So there's a good deal of money which Maureen never received, is that right?" "Well, you see, my wife was very sick the last few years, and I had so many expenses, so I just kept on using it, I guess." "The orphanage records show that you received half of the money contributed indirectly by Burt Renshaw for the support of a girl named Maureen." "Oh, yeah, sure." "That's how he knew where to find his niece." "Your Honor, for the second time, the defendant has not been established as Burt Renshaw's niece." "I'll withdraw the question, so the witness' answer may be stricken from the record." "The clerk is so instructed." "Let me put it this way, Mr. Thomas." "Isn't it true that Burt Renshaw discovered you had been misappropriating money intended for your foster daughter?" "Well, yes, but I explained the circumstances to him, and I promised to pay it all back." "Did you actually pay him back any of that money, Mr. Thomas?" "Well, no." "See, he was killed, and" "That's all, thank you." "He was stabbed with that pair of scissors." "They were kept on his desk for photo trimming." "Tell me this, Lieutenant." "Was blood found anywhere other than in the murder room?" "Yes." "An examination of the defendant's possessions revealed a handbag with dried blood on it-- the same type blood as the dead man's." "Thank you, Lieutenant." "Mr. Mason?" "No questions." "Very well, Lieutenant Anderson." "You may step down, sir." "I call Mr. James Grove to the stand, please." "I almost tripped over him." "That's when I dropped my handbag right next to him." "[bailiff] Do you swear to tell the truth..." " But he was already dead." " ...and nothing but the truth?" "He was." " State your name, please." " James Grove." "Right now, it's more important for you to prove you are Angela's daughter." "Mr. Mason, can you remember back when you were four years old?" "The best place to begin my search was with Mrs. Fernaldi's brother-in-law-- the decedent, that is." "I was still under the impression Mr. Renshaw had raised Maureen." "However, Mr. Renshaw was extremely evasive, so I undertook to follow him." "This took me to Bolton Hall Orphanage." "How did you then proceed, Mr. Grove?" "I obtained the necessary authorization to examine the files." "From that and other background information I had," "I became satisfied Mrs. Fernaldi's daughter was a girl who is now known as Maureen Franklin." "Of course, since then we've taken blood tests." "They were inconclusive." "They didn't eliminate either girl." "However, Mrs. Fernaldi was able to recall one additional fact that a certain possession of Miss Franklin's has now verified." "Indeed!" "Well, since Mrs. Fernaldi is present today in this courtroom, her own testimony will, of course, be best evidence on that subject." "But, Mr. Grove, I have one additional question of you, sir." "Is your law firm acting as executor of a trust fund established several years ago by Mrs. Fernaldi's late husband?" "That is correct, sir." "It's a trust fund set up in favor of the daughter, in the event she could be located and was still living, of course." "And when the identity of Maureen Renshaw is finally and fully established, what amount will that young lady receive?" "When she's twenty-one her next birthday, she will receive approximately $200,000." "[spectators murmur]" "That time long ago was a time of great sorrow in my life." "My husband divorced me, not without some justification, and won the custody of my baby." "Due to the state of my health, the recollections of that period are quite disconnected." "Yes, I understand." "And yet there was one thing you were able to remember which was of assistance to Mr. Grove in his search for your baby?" "Well, so he indicated." "But I can't imagine what it was, unless, of course, he meant the only picture that I have of her." "Where is that picture now, Mrs. Fernaldi?" "I'm afraid it's not very helpful." "She was less than one year old at the time." "Besides, the toy sort of tends to hide the baby." "Oh, I've compared it to both Maureens." "I'm afraid it's quite useless." "Yes, but would you describe the toy the baby is holding?" "That was her polka dot pony." "It was a little stuffed animal I bought for her in a toy store." "The last time I ever saw my child, she was clutching that silly little pony." "When I was placed in my first foster home, the orphanage sent along a little box with my toys in it." "There weren't many, but I do recall one of them was a small stuffed animal, like a horse, maybe?" "Do you know what happened to these playthings of yours, Miss Franklin?" "Yes." "When I left my first foster home, the box was left behind." "My next parents were always going to get it for me, but I guess they really wanted me to play with the new toys." "When I told Mr. Grove about it, he got the box and took it up to his office." "I see." "Is this the box you refer to?" "Yes." "That's the one." "I can remember." "I haven't seen it yet, though-- opened, I mean." "Your Honor, it's our intention to call the foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Haring, and to recall Mr. Grove to show properly how this box was stored and handled." "But with the court's indulgence, I would first like at this time first to open the box in front of Miss Franklin." "[judge] Mr. Mason?" "I think I have no objection, Your Honor." "Very well, Mr. Burger." "Is that your toy, Miss Franklin?" "Oh, yes." "It must be!" "Oh, yes, I'm sure it's mine!" "It's her." "She's the one." "That's my baby." "Well, what are we going to do?" "It's a problem, all right." "Unless Mr. Grove is an out-and-out crook" "Mr. Mason, I know Maureen." "She didn't kill Renshaw." "There's been so much pain in her life, she can't bear to hurt people." "And it wasn't Angela's money she wanted." "It was just to be somebody's daughter." "Do you think she's the real Maureen, Rich?" "As far as I'm concerned, it makes no difference at all." "I'm afraid it will to a jury." "If she's proven to be the phony Maureen, it gives her quite a large motive for murder." "Perry, Angela Fernaldi could have shown the baby picture to Mr. Grove, couldn't she?" "So planting that stuffed animal to fit the facts would have been simple." "I wonder if Paul's contacts in Europe could locate anyone to whom Mrs. Fernaldi might have talked to about the pony." "If only our Maureen could only recall something to help her verify her claim." "Della, how much can you remember of what happened when you were four years old?" "Not very much." "Everybody believes that girl because she's had a chance to talk." "Why don't you put me on the stand and let me tell my side of it?" "What would you say?" "Well, I don't know exactly, but I think that's my polka dot pony." "Why do you think that?" "Well, you see, when I was just a little girl, I had a nickname" " Buttons." "I hadn't thought about it for years, but I remembered last night." "Well, I mean, those big dots do look like buttons, don't they?" "Yes, they do, Maureen." "Oh, well, they'd just think I'd made it all up anyway, wouldn't they?" "Not necessarily." "But there are other reasons why I'm not going to put you on the stand." "Mrs. Fernaldi, did this polka dot pony have a name?" "A name?" "Oh, dear." "I'm afraid I've quite forgotten." "Does "Buttons" ring a bell for you?" "No-- no, I don't think so." "Can you swear that this is the same toy that you bought twenty years ago?" "I'm almost certain it is, but" "Oh dear." "I thought this was all settled." "Mr. Mason, which of the girls do you think is my daughter?" "Don't you have any more recollections that might help to answer that question?" "I've thought and thought." "I've wracked my brains until I'm simply exhausted, but there are some blank spaces in my memory of that period." "[sigh] Must I say why?" "Well, I was young and frightened, and my husband-- and, well, I just wasn't able to cope with everything." "The ugly truth is, Mr. Mason, that I was frequently quite drunk." "Was that the cause of your divorce, Mrs. Fernaldi?" "No." "Excessive drinking is not a cause, it's a result." "At least that's what my doctor in Switzerland told me." "But the result of those results was that-- well, I couldn't properly take care of my baby." "One day I accidentally burned her, and that's when Edward took her away." "A serious burn, Mrs. Fernaldi?" "I don't think so, but oh, she was so tiny, and I" " I cried because I thought she might be marked for life." "You mean left a scar?" "Oh, I hope not, but" "Well, that would help, wouldn't it?" "Assuming your child does have such a scar, Mrs. Fernaldi, where would that scar be located?" "Oh, well... it would be on her left shoulder, just about here." "No more questions, thank you." "The witness may step down." "Oh." "Your Honor, the state feels that there's no useful purpose served in prolonging this hearing any further." "Certainly there can be no doubt remaining that the circumstantial evidence against this defendant is conclusive." "And her motive is equally clear-- Burt Renshaw was murdered because he knew which of these two claimants is the impostor." "Well, Your Honor, now that question has been answered right here in this courtroom." "And despite Mr. Mason's insinuations that the evidence of the polka dot pony was planted, the state will not even bother to recall Miss Franklin to the stand." "The fact that she has the exact identifying scar described by this witness is obvious to everyone." "All right, Mr. Burger, you've made your point." "Mr. Mason, have you any other witnesses to call in cross-examine?" "Yes, Your Honor." "With the court's permission, I should like to recall Miss Margaret MacDonald." "Referring to your previous testimony, Miss MacDonald, did the decedent ever discover that you had taken money from his cash register for the child's support?" "Well, no, not until he started to look for her, I mean." "Now, we have heard that he demanded the return of the money from Mr. Thomas." "How did he respond to your confession?" " He struck me." " I see." "Now, Miss MacDonald, the previous witness has acknowledged a faulty memory due to the great lapse of time." "If possible, I would like you to substantiate her recollection." "Well, I never even saw the parents, so" "I mean about the baby, Miss MacDonald." "Oh." "Well, let me see." "You know, babies, all babies, acquire scars and bruises of some sort." "I don't remember, but I suppose there could have been something on her shoulder." "Corresponding to Miss Franklin's scar?" "Yes." "Thank you." "That'll be all." "The witness may step down." "Your Honor, at this time, I should like to recall Mr. James Grove." "Very well." "Mr. Grove?" "You're still under oath, Mr. Grove." "Mr. Grove, when you were assigned the task of locating the missing heir, were you shown the baby picture that we've seen here?" "Certainly." "We compared notes on everything we knew of the child." "Then one of the questions I later asked Maureen Franklin was if she remembered any of her toys." "That's when she told me about the box that had been left behind at her first home." "Mrs. Fernaldi and I went over there to get that box." "The people there had a vague recollection of it." "They were afraid it might have been thrown away, but we finally located it in an old woodshed." "It had the name "Maureen" on it." "Now, I'm not ignoring the possibility that such evidence as the polka dot pony could have been planted, Mr. Mason." "However, it does seem farfetched that Maureen Franklin could quite so rapidly acquire a scar to fit Mrs. Fernaldi's recollection." "Mr. Grove, suppose it were the other way around." "Suppose Mrs. Fernaldi acquired a "recollection"" "to fit an existing scar on Maureen Franklin's shoulder?" "What?" "Oh, this is ridiculous." "You're just trying to confuse the matter of identification." "No, Mr. Grove." "I'm trying to establish identification." "Which of the two Maureens is the daughter is no longer the point." "The question should be who is the mother?" " What?" " In other words, do you know this woman is really Mrs. Arturo Fernaldi?" "I" " I" " Well, she had all the necessary identification-- the papers, passport." "But suppose it wasn't a traveling companion but Mrs. Fernaldi herself who was drowned in Europe some months ago." "Wouldn't all the necessary papers and information have been available to this other woman?" "A woman who'd been her nurse and friend for years?" "Well, how should I know?" "I believed she was Mrs. Fernaldi!" "She is Mrs. Fernaldi." "And so did everyone else believe her, except Burt Renshaw." "Mrs. Fernaldi, you were the imposter he was waiting for that night," " were you not?" " No." "What are you talking about!" "Renshaw wouldn't have recognized either girl after almost twenty years, but he certainly would have know his own sister-in-law." "Was that why you killed him?" "Because he knew that you weren't Angela Fernaldi?" "It it was an accident." "I didn't mean to do it." " [spectators murmur] - [ judge taps gavel]" "I meant no harm." "I wouldn't even have come here if I'd known that Mr. Grove would find a living relative." "But that Mr. Renshaw demanded payment-- every penny I could ever find." "I didn't have any money." "Angela had spent every cent of it." "All there was left was that trust fund they'd set up for her daughter and for me, nothing." "Me, her constant companion, waiting on her for fifteen years, catering to her every whim." "Well, I was entitled to something, wasn't I?" "Really, I" " I meant no harm." "I just wanted to be taken care of... for Angela's daughter to take care of me." "Is that so terrible?" "When you were suddenly arrested, the woman decided by herself to establish Maureen Franklin as her daughter by making her story fit the evidence." "Mr. Grove was completely unaware of what she'd done." "But how did you know that the real Angela had died in Europe?" "We didn't." "My contacts in Europe did find out, however, that Angela Fernaldi always traveled around with a nurse, a companion." "And neither of them could ever be located." "And just on that you guessed that" "If Burt Renshaw knew the person he was going to meet was an imposter, and Maureen wasn't that imposter, then who could it have been?" "The woman answered that question herself in court." "And Maureen Franklin didn't have anything to do with all that?" "No." "Now, I think the trust fund is probably rightfully yours." "but I believe the court will have a hard time deciding between the two of you, so perhaps you ought to agree to divide it." "Oh, I think so, too." "I mean, I'd be happier about that." "Only well, at best it leaves each of us with just the memory of half a mother, doesn't it?" "My dear, a substitute is never very satisfactory, and I'm afraid Mr. Campion and I are really out of touch with your generation, but Richard's put up with us all these years." "Well!" "I'm afraid I said that rather badly." "No, Mrs. Campion." "I think you said that rather well."