"Good evening." "Due to circumstances beyond our control... tragedy will not strike tonight." "I'm dreadfully sorry, perhaps some other time." "However, I have just witnessed a sneak preview of this evening's story... and I found it simply frightening." "Sometimes, death is not the worst that can befall a man... and I don't refer to torture or any type of violence." "I mean, the quiet, little insidious devices... that can drive a man out of his mind... like putting bubble-gum in someone's coat pocket." "Tonight's little frolic is called, The Case of Mr. Pelham." "Good morning, Mr. Pelham." "You're a bit early today." "Yes." "Your usual sherry, Mr. Pelham?" "No, that is whiskey, please." "Straight." "I believe I'll have it straight." "Yes, sir." "Have you seen Dr. Harley today?" "Not yet... but it's still a little early for him." "Here he comes now." "The usual, Ray." "Hello, Dr. Harley." "Hello..." "Pelham." "Yes, of course." "Hello, Pelham." "How are you?" "Could you have lunch with me today, Dr. Harley?" "Well, I" " I'd rather appreciate it if you could." "I rather need to talk to you." "About some friend with a psychosis?" "No, it's not a friend." "It's myself." "Well, thanks very much, Pelham." "I'd be delighted to lunch with you." "Thanks, Ray." "Well, shall we sit down?" "Yes." "How about this?" "Fine." "I want this on a professional basis, of course, Doctor." "That is, I expect you to send me a statement." "Well, it would be much better if you came to my office, you know." "I always dislike doing things this way." "Of course." "And I will come later, if you want me to... and lie on the couch, or whatever's necessary." "But I want to talk about it now, first, if you'll let me." "By all means." "Go right ahead." "You don't know too much about me, I suppose... and there's really not much to know." "I have my own little company, Albert Pelham, Investments." "I'm single, have an apartment on East 63rd with one servant, Peterson." "I have no deep attachments, no demanding relationships... no responsibilities." "Nothing at all unusual about me, really, until..." "Well, I should start at the beginning, I suppose." "The first..." "The first indication was only about two weeks ago." "I was leaving my office building in the evening... and an acquaintance, his offices are in the same building as mine... said something about seeing me at the Garden the night before, at the fights." "It was just in passing, you know, and he was hurrying... and had gone on before I could question him." "Although, I attached no importance to it at the time." "But I hadn't been at the Garden the night before." "In fact, I never go to fights." "Well, I would have thought no more of it, I suppose, just a case of mistaken identity." "But a few days later, here at the club... in fact at that table over there, where Manning and his father are now..." "I was having lunch with a man from Detroit... who had inherited an estate I was handling." "And I noticed Tom Mason, and I called him to stop... as he was leaving, to introduce him." "Tom, could you come here a moment, please?" "I'd like you to meet Mr. Hartley of Detroit." "This is Tom Mason." "I'm glad to see we're on speaking terms again." "What?" "What do you mean?" "The day before yesterday, you cut me dead right out here at the corner." "Really?" "I'm dreadfully sorry." "I must not have seen you." "You saw me all right, looked me right in the eye." "When I said, "Hello, Pel," you simply walked past." "It was pretty intense concentration, old man." "Careful you don't get yourself run over one day." "Day before yesterday, you say?" "What time?" "Two-ish." "Not guilty." "I was in Philadelphia the day before yesterday... didn't get back till 6:30." "You may think you were in Philadelphia... but, actually, you were right out there on the corner." "Or else, you have a double to end all doubles, Pel." "Well, doubles aren't too unusual, of course." "Frequently, there's quite a difference when you see the two together." "But sometimes, even then- Yes, I know." "And I was prepared to admit the simple existence of a double." "But then, only day before yesterday, as I was leaving here after lunch... the hall man handed me a carton of cigarettes and said..." "Harry the billiard-room attendant had sent them up." "That I had left them here the night before." "And I wasn't here the night before." "Well, I didn't have time to stop then... but I came back on my way home that night... to see if I could get to the bottom of this." "You know, Harry, I don't remember ordering those cigarettes at all." "In fact, I suspect someone's playing a joke on me... for I don't even recall being here at all last night." "That might just possibly be it... wouldn't you say?" "Thank you, Mr. Pelham, but, no, sir, you were here." "You could check with Mr. Mason." "You were playing with him." "I'm afraid that wouldn't help." "If it is a joke, he's probably behind it." "Well, if it wasn't you, sir, it was somebody so much like you, you wouldn't believe it." "Yes, so it seems." "It must have been you, Mr. Pelham." "You made a crack about that crazy... hop, skip, and kiss-you-twice carom you made that time." "Who else would know about that?" "Yes." "Who would?" "I still hadn't decided whether I really had a double... who had the effrontery to impersonate me right here in my own club... or whether even the servants had been enlisted in this senseless jest." "Both seemed likely." "So I decided to leave the club and eat somewhere nearby... and then sneak back and see if I could catch the scoundrel here." "So I called Peterson to tell him I'd not be home for dinner... but Peterson seemed very odd on the telephone." "Hello, this is Mr. Pelham." "No, I do not want to talk to Mr. Pelham." "I am..." "Suddenly, I realized that he thought I was home... that this person was there, in my apartment." "So I rushed home to catch him, if I could, not knowing just what to expect." "Peterson." "Peterson." "You've changed your mind, sir?" "Changed my mind?" "You were going out for the evening, you said." "I..." "Yes." "Peterson, when you let me in tonight... did you happen to notice anything different about me?" "But I didn't let you in, sir." "You let yourself in." "And you didn't notice anything unusual?" "Well, nothing in particular." "You just said you were going out for the evening, then went into the bedroom." "Is anything wrong, sir?" "I remembered what he said about letting myself in... but my spare key was still there." "I don't mind saying, this rather upset me." "But a moment later..." "It was just as if I had come in earlier... before going out for the evening, changed my collar and tie and..." "I was still wearing my own tie." "They were identical... the same make, the same amount of wear... but I had never bought a duplicate." "That night- Do you still have this tie?" "At home, yes." "Both of them." "It's not an imaginary tie, Doctor." "It was still there the next morning." "This was yesterday morning?" "Yes." "I slept very badly at first... worry, you know, and then overslept in the morning." "I didn't feel like going to the office then and called them... and told them I wouldn't be in until after lunch." "I had the lock changed on my front door that morning... and only one key to it made." "Good idea." "I thought of the police, of course... but what good could they do?" "Besides, he hadn't done anything." "Moreover..." "I'd begun to have the feeling... that there was something more than a purely human agency involved in this." "That, or..." "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." "Well, I'll finish first." "Yesterday afternoon..." "I went to my office." "I thought it a bit odd that no one inquired... as to whether I was feeling better or anything." "Good afternoon." "Mr. Pelham." "Here are the letters you dictated this morning, Mr. Pelham." "I'm glad you felt better and came in." "Dear, is it coming back?" "Is anything wrong?" "No, I think I'll be all right, Miss Clement." "Thank you." "Is there anything I could get you?" "No." "I'll be fine." "All right." "Just buzz if there is anything." "Thank you." "They were good letters." "They were all right." "They dealt efficiently with various details of my work and, not only that... although I had not dictated them, they were my letters." "Not only in phraseology and in style... but in knowledge of what I had to do." "So I signed them." "I was at a complete loss." "If I went to the police about it, how could I explain those letters... when I couldn't even explain them to myself?" "As a protective measure, I wrote my bank... changing my signature, adding my middle initial... which for some years I had not used." "Well, does this bring us up to date?" "No." "It...doesn't." "I didn't feel like going home when I left the office yesterday afternoon." "I felt, well, you can imagine, jumpy, on edge." "I decided to go to a picture or something of the sort... to see if I could get my mind off this for a while." "So I called Peterson and told him I'd not be home for dinner... but to leave some cold supper out for me in case I was hungry later on." "It was about 10.:00 when I got home." "My supper wasn't in the living room where Peterson usually leaves it... nor was it in the dining room, either." "In my already rather tense emotional state... this perhaps irritated me more than it should have." "Peterson!" "Peterson!" "Are you here?" "Didn't I just hear you come in, sir?" "Of course I just came in." "When did you go out?" "Go out?" "Peterson, what is the matter with you?" "Where's my supper?" "But you ate it, sir." "Don't you remember?" "Remember?" "How could I when I just came in?" "Peterson- But, look, sir." "Just look." "I left the dishes, sir." "Don't you remember, and you asked for the last half-bottle of the claret?" "Peterson, when you let me in, did you..." "But you let yourself in, sir." "Don't you remember any of it?" "Well, yes." "I mean, when I was having supper, Peterson, did you... happen to notice how I looked, or anything unusual?" "No, sir." "You seemed all right then, sir." "As a matter of fact, quite gay." "Your quip about the taxi driver was most humorous." "Yes." "Well, good night." "I slept very little, I'm afraid." "But I went to my office this morning, anyhow... because mostly I was afraid if I didn't, he would." "But I got nothing done." "I thought of the police again... for at least he did have a key to my apartment and had illegally entered." "Yes, that's true." "But..." "I had no hope that they could do me any good." "Besides..." "I had finally faced something which I suppose... had been disturbing me all the time." "And before I talked to the police and to anyone..." "I wanted to talk to you, to someone like you." "You see, what I need to know is... could a man actually be in one place doing one thing... and still in his mind be elsewhere... doing something else, but so vividly, with such detail... that this is the real, the living part of his life to him?" "Do you think?" "Well, let us say something of that nature is possible, Pelham... but under extreme circumstances." "Now, when your double was doing these things... were you doing, whatever it was, with people you knew?" "Now last night, for instance... when you went the movie while he came home and ate your supper... were you with anyone you know?" "No, but I remember the picture... and it's the one that's running at that theatre." "I looked it up this morning." "Do you feel he's deliberately doing these things to cause you trouble, to upset you?" "No." "I don't think he's trying to persecute me, Doctor." "In fact, I can think of no reason at all for him to do what he is doing." "I have the feeling that he's trying... to move into my life, to crowd closer and closer to me... so that one day he is where I was... standing in my shoes, my clothes, my life." "And I am gone." "Vanished." "Well, I have to be getting back." "It seems pretty clear this double is a real person." "You're pretty much a creature of routine, aren't you?" "Regular habits, same kind of clothes, that sort of thing?" "I suppose I am." "I've always liked to feel dependable." "So you see, he could match your dress, and manner, and so forth... pretty well by watching you, and has." "So chances are he's up to something." "I could vary my routine some." "Different hours, amusement, clothes, that sort of thing." "Maybe buy a loud tie." "I normally only wear this kind." "Sounds like a good idea." "Well, keep in touch with me, will you?" "I'd like to see you soon." "Yes." "Yes, I will." "Now this is an exclusive model, and no two alike." "You won't see another." "Yes." "I suppose that's more like it." "Yeah." "Miss Clement." "Hello." "I hope you had a good lunch, after waiting all that time." "In fact, I didn't really expect you back at all today... after all the work you turned out during lunch hour." "Oh." "Is any of that work ready?" "Yes, indeed, most of it." "I'll bring it in." "There you are, sir." "Thank you, Miss Clement." "That's my signature, the new one... and even the bank couldn't have got my letter until noon." "What can I do?" "What can I do?" "What can the police do about that?" "What can anybody do?" "Peterson." "Hello?" "Peterson, I" "Who's this?" "This is Mr. Pelham." "Whom did you wish to speak to?" "No, you are not." "I'm..." "Is Peterson there?" "My man?" "Are you a friend of his?" "I've told him he's not supposed to be called on my telephone." "But, if it's important I" " Never mind." "It's not important." "I just called to tell him I won't be home until late tonight... perhaps not at all." "Sorry to have bothered you." "That was my voice." "He's there now." "What is this?" "What's going on?" "Going out and coming in, and my never hearing it, and telling me that..." "I'm sorry, sir." "It's only that" " That's all right." "Never mind." "Is he still..." "Were you taking the drink in to..." "Heaven save us." "What's going on here?" "Oh." "So there you are." "I didn't think you'd have the gall to..." "Don't go away, Peterson." "Perhaps you've noticed I've been upset the last few days." "Well, this is the cause." "He actually" " No, Peterson!" "He's the imposter." "I'm me." "Can't you see?" "Can't you tell?" "It's true, I've never seen two as alike in all my life." "Nobody would believe me if I told them." "Put me on oath, but I couldn't swear which was which now." "Why, I'd swear to either, separately." "There's a resemblance, of course." "But it's perfectly simple, really." "You see, he's made a bad mistake." "Look at that tie he's wearing." "Did you ever see me in a tie like that?" "But..." "No, sir, that's the truth." "You haven't got one like it." "What's more, you wouldn't buy one." "You're the real Mr. Pelham, all right." "I swear, for a moment- No, Peterson." "I only bought it to prove, to have something he couldn't duplicate." "Please don't shout." "No good can come of that, you know." "You're the real one, all right." "I've heard you say that many times, sir." "Just that way." "Thank you, Peterson." "I will attend to this." "I don't want to turn you over to the police, you know." "But I tell you, if you persist I" "No, Peterson." "Don't go!" "You're wrong." "Wrong." "Can't you see?" "Can't you tell?" "After six years, don't you know?" "Just ring if you want me, sir." "Yes, I will." "Why?" "Why did this have to happen to me?" "Why?" "No reason." "It just did, you see." "I've known for several days that there's an agency more than human here." "Tell me, what is it?" "Whom do you represent?" "Who are you?" "Why, Mr. Pelham, of course." "You're mad, you know." "You know, I was thinking the other day... the way things have been going... you must be in the millionaire bracket by now." "Possibly." "By the way... do you think I seem to have changed any, since I started to get ahead?" "You seem to have sort of taken hold of things more, is all." "Maybe that wretched experience you had a year or so ago... you know, when that fellow who was trying to impersonate you... went out of his mind right in front of you." "Perhaps that sort of settled you down or something, take a grip on things." "You know, he was amazingly like you, wasn't he?" "Yes." "Poor fellow." "He's been put away ever since, you know." "I don't think he'll ever be right again." "But I'm Alfred Hitchcock." "I am, I can prove it." "Sure." "Everybody is." "I am, I insist." "An outstanding hoax." "He carried off the impersonation brilliantly, except for one thing:" "bubble-gum in his pocket, indeed." "Alfred Hitchcock wouldn't be caught dead with a bubble-gum in his pocket." "Poor chap." "If you'll excuse me, I need a moment to pull myself together."