Perry Mason: The Case of the Musical Murder

Who.

Brightens everywhere that she goes?

Holly!

Who loves most everyone that she knows?

Holly!

I know the creme de creme and they all agree You can't arrest me She's the one

you want to talk of the evening Whose name can open anyone's door?

Holly!

Who else can offer this and much more?

Holly!

No matter what they say, I'll always stay this way Holly's the only one that's me.

When all is said and done, who else is so much fun?

Holly's the only one That's me That's me That's me.

And I mean big trouble.

I kept waiting for a priest to make an entrance in a second act and administer the last rites.

Oh, come on, Tony.

Tony, the audience loved us.

Five curtain calls.

For God's sake.

This bunch of Hicks would give five calls to a lecture on paint thinner.

But you know what the New York critics are going to say?

We are a sentimental cartoon.

We would have been out of date in the 30s.

Well, I don't know about the rest of you.

I don't need that on my resume.

Mel.

Oh.

The first act closer still.

It doesn't work.

The song is old-fashioned.

The lyrics are maudlin.

The whole concept is prehistoric.

I've told you a hundred times, we need something tougher.

All I hear is, yeah, Tony, sure.

Well, I want to hear a new song!

I want to hear it by ten O'clock tomorrow morning.

Well, of course I'm not.

Somebody.

Anybody.

Okay, Mel?

Yeah, Tony, sure.

It shouldn't be too hard.

The whole score sounds like it came straight from your trunk.

Would somebody mind telling me why six, count them, one, two, three, four,

five, six, of our hookers made their entrance late in the police raid?

Kate, you're choreographing our little funeral here.

Now, is it too much to ask your hookers to make their entrance on cue and not whenever they damn well please?

Tony, they have a really big change there, and it's not their fault that they damn... It's the intercom, Tony.

I beg your pardon?

The intercom system wasn't working.

By the time I got backstage to the dressing room, I...

And whose responsibility was it to see that the intercom system was working?

Well, you know I had a lot of new light cues... I just asked you a question, Johnny.

Okay.

It was my responsibility.

Oh, like it was your responsibility to make sure that there was a pianist at the understudy rehearsal last week?

Yes.

You are a flake.

That's not fair, Tony.

If you don't get your shabby little act together, I'm going to make sure you end

up swabbing out toilets at some crummy little dinner theater.

You've got no right to talk to me that way.

Why not?

You don't know how the guts to do anything about it?

Oh, yeah?

Hey, what are you doing?

Hey, Johnny, for God's sake!

Stop it, will you?

Hey, come on.

Oh, for God's sake!

You are fired, Whitman!

How are you?

You will never work another Broadway show again!

You hear me?

Never!

Hey, come on, Tony, come on.

Johnny's a hell of a good stage.

You know that.

You just got him a little crazy, that's all.

You two just cool off, and then we'll sit down and talk this over, all right?

I'm running this show.

You get a problem with that, you get yourself another director.

I'm sorry, Johnny, I really am.

Somebody had to drive a stake through your heart.

You?

Yeah, maybe.

All right, James.

Our crucial scene just kind of lies in the middle of the road like a dead dog.

I mean, it's not funny.

It's not moving.

It's not anything.

I think your TV route's a show.

They're not very pretty.

I want it rewritten first thing in the morning.

We'll get it rehearsed and into the show by tomorrow night.

And while you're at it, look at that first scene between Tom and Amanda, because

Polly Adler, she was a real woman, not some cheap Mae West impressionist.

I thought the scene played pretty well.

Well, as usual, you're wrong.

Dammit, Tony, you are the most insensitive, insulting, arrogant... Oh, listen up here, kiddies.

Our fading star, the silver screen, she actually can display an honest emotion.

You're a pig, Tony.

I'd like to reciprocate.

I just don't want to waste my time.

All right, that's it.

But from now on, get ready for plenty more changes, because you're going to get them.

And Mel, James, I mean it.

Bye.

Tomorrow.

Morning.

Yeah?

What do you want?

It's after 2 O'clock in the morning, for God's sake.

Come to there now.

Are you out of your mind?

How?

Did you call the police?

No, no, no, no, no.

You're right.

You're right.

If she's okay, it's better to be quiet.

I'll be right over.

I have to go on down to the sit.

Amanda tried to kill herself.

On the stage.

It's just the kind of thing that hammy old relic would do.

I don't know how long I'm going to be down there, so you better get your tail out of here.

It's been fun, my dear.

We'll do it again sometime.

My mama.

It's after 2 A.M.

Why aren't we asleep?

Our knee has its own idea.

Well, when did we take our last medication?

Ten O'clock.

Well, that's good.

But I think we should take another pill right now.

And I want you to know that we can't be responsible for that watch if it gets stolen.

This watch was a Christmas present, and I want you to know that we are completely responsible for it.

I'd rather not.

I know.

But even arthroscopic surgery takes its toll on the system.

This is our second night here.

And if we want the doctor to discharge us in the morning, then it would be much

better if he found us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I have never had the slightest desire to be bushy-tailed.

But we do want to get out of here, don't we?

You bet.

Now, we should get in bed.

You first.

You.

In bed.

Can we manage that by ourselves?

Sorry, fella.

Wish I could help.

Hi, what the hell's going on here?

Good morning.

Is it?

Well, we're really in a good mood today, aren't we?

Della, do me a favor.

Don't use the word we.

Has the doctor been by yet to release you from the hospital?

Nope.

Well, he better get you out of here soon, or you're not going to be fit to re-enter.

Johnny Whitcomb, stage manager of the musical Polly, is being taken into custody

for the murder of the musical's director, Tony Franken.

Now, Whitcomb publicly threatened Franken's life just hours before the

murder, which took place in the Paramount Theater at 2.30 A.M.

Witnesses in the neighboring building say they heard the shots at that time, but failed to report them.

We'll have details in a minute.

What's the matter, Perry?

Do you know this Franken?

No, but I know that boy didn't kill him.

How?

I saw him.

What's his name?

Whitcomb.

Right under that street lamp at the time of the murder.

Are you sure?

I remember looking at my watch as he was standing there, and the theater where this.

Franken was murdered is at least three or four miles from here.

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

He'll likely be arraigned this morning.

Well, as soon as the doctor releases you, you can just go down and clear the boy.

I'm afraid it's not that simple.

Just tell him what you told me.

Any halfway decent prosecutor would tear me apart.

I do.

Della, get my clothes for me, will you please?

I'm going downtown with you.

Good.

Then you can watch me make a world-class fool of myself.

Let's see, Mr. Mason.

You believe you saw the defendant on that park bench at about 2.27 A.M.

, is that right?

Yes, I looked at my watch.

But you were in a hospital about how many yards away?

About 30.

And although it was overcast that night, you believe you could make out his features by the streetlight?