Double Indemnity Page #18

want you to think you are being

subjected to any questioning. But

there are a few things we should

like to know.

PHYLLIS:

What sort of things?

NORTON:

We have the report of the coroner's

inquest. Accidental death. We are

not entirely satisfied. In fact we

are not satisfied at all.

Phyllis looks at him coolly.

Keyes looks vaguely interested.

Neff is staring straight at Phyllis.

NORTON:

Frankly, Mrs. Dietrichson, we suspect

suicide.

Phyllis doesn't bat an eyelash.

NORTON:

I'm sorry. Would you like a glass of

water?

PHYLLIS:

Please.

NORTON:

Mr. Neff.

He indicates a thermos on a stand near Neff. Neff pours a

glass of water and carries it over to Phyllis. She has lifted

her veil a little. She takes the glass from his hand.

PHYLLIS:

Thank you.

Their eyes meet for a fraction of a second.

NORTON:

Had your husband been moody or

depressed lately, Mrs. Dietrichson?

Did he seem to have financial worries,

for instance?

PHYLLIS:

He was perfectly all right and I

don't know of any financial worries.

NORTON:

There must have been something, Mrs.

Dietrichson. Let us examine this so-

called accident. First, your husband

takes out this policy in absolute

secrecy. Why? Because he doesn't

want his family to suspect what he

intends to do.

PHYLLIS:

Do what?

NORTON:

Commit suicide. Next, he goes on

this trip entirely alone. He has to

be alone. He hobbles all the way out

to the observation platform, very

unlikely with his leg in a cast,

unless he has a very strong reason.

Once there, he finds he is not alone.

There is a man there. What was his

name, Keyes?

Norton flips his fingers impatiently at Keyes who doesn't

even bother to look up.

KEYES:

His name was Jackson. Probably still

is.

NORTON:

Jackson. So your husband gets rid of

this Jackson with some flimsy excuse

about cigars. And then he is alone.

And then he does it. He jumps.

Suicide. In which case the company

is not liable.

(Pause)

You know that, of course. We could

go to court --

PHYLLIS:

I don't know anything. In fact I

don't know why I came here.

She makes as if to rise indignantly.

NORTON:

Just a moment, please. I said we

could go to court. I didn't say we

want to. Not only is it against our

practice, but it would involve a

great deal of expense, a lot of

lawyers, a lot of time, perhaps years.

Phyllis rises coldly.

NORTON:

So what I want to suggest is a

compromise on both sides. A settlement

for a certain sum, a part of the

policy value --

PHYLLIS:

Don't bother, Mr. Norton. When I

came in here I had no idea you owed

me any money. You told me you did.

Then you told me you didn't. Now you

tell me you want to pay me a part of

it, whatever it is. You want to

bargain with me, at a time like this.

I don't like your insinuations about

my husband, Mr. Norton, and I don't

like your methods. In fact I don't

like you, Mr. Norton. Goodbye,

gentlemen.

She turns and walks out. The door closes after her. There is

a pregnant pause. Keyes straightens up in his chair.

KEYES:

Nice going, Mr. Norton. You sure

carried that ball.

Norton pours himself a glass of water and stands holding it.

KEYES:

Only you fumbled on the goal line.

Then you heaved an illegal forward

pass and got thrown for a forty-yard

loss. Now you can't pick yourself up

because you haven't got a leg to

stand on.

NORTON:

I haven't eh? Let her claim. Let her

sue. We can prove it was suicide.

Keyes stands up.

KEYES:

Can we? Mr. Norton, the first thing

that hit me was that suicide angle.

Only I dropped it in the wastepaper

basket just three seconds later. You

ought to take a look at the statistics

on suicide sometime. You might learn

a little something about the insurance

business.

NORTON:

I was raised in the insurance

business, Mr. Keyes.

KEYES:

Yeah. In the front office. Come on,

you never read an actuarial table in

your life. I've got ten volumes on

suicide alone. Suicide by race, by

color, by occupation, by sex, by

seasons of the year, by time of day.

Suicide, how committed: by poisons,

by fire-arms, by drowning, by leaps.

Suicide by poison, subdivided by

types of poison, such as corrosive,

irritant, systemic, gaseous, narcotic,

alkaloid, protein, and so forth.

Suicide by leaps, subdivided by leaps

from high places, under wheels of

trains, under wheels of trucks, under

the feet of horses, from steamboats.

But Mr. Norton, of all the cases on

record there's not one single case

of suicide by leap from the rear end

of a moving train. And do you know

how fast that train was going at the

point where the body was found?

Fifteen miles an hour. Now how could

anybody jump off a slow moving train

like that with any kind of expectation

that he would kill himself? No soap,

Mr. Norton. We're sunk, and we're

going to pay through the nose, and

you know it. May I have this?

Keyes' throat is dry after the long speech. He grabs the

glass of water out of Norton's hand and drains it in one big

gulp.

Norton is watching him almost stupefied. Neff stands with

the shadow of a smile on his face. Keyes puts the glass down

noisily on Norton's desk.

KEYES:

Come on, Walter.

Norton doesn't move or speak. Keyes puts his hat on and

crosses towards the door, Neff after him. With the doorknob

in his hand Keyes turns back to Norton with a glance down at

his own shirt sleeves.

KEYES:

Next time I'll rent a tuxedo.

They go out.

DISSOLVE TO:

C-5 NEFF - AT DICTAPHONE - (NIGHT)

There is a tired grin on his face as he talks into the horn.

NEFF:

I could have hugged you right then

and there, Keyes, you and your

statistics. You were the only one we

were really scared of, and instead

you were almost playing on our team...

DISSOLVE TO:

C-6 NEFF'S APARTMENT - EVENING - ALMOST DARK IN THE ROOM

The corridor door opens letting light in. Neff enters with

his hat on and his briefcase under his arm. He switches the

lights on, closes the door, puts the lights on, closes the

door, puts the key in his pocket. At this moment the telephone

rings. He picks up the phone.

NEFF'S VOICE

That evening when I got home my nerves

had eased off. I could feel the ground

under my feet again, and it looked

like easy going from there on it.

NEFF:

Hello... Hello, baby.... Sure,

everything is fine... You were

wonderful in Norton's office.

C-7 INT. TELEPHONE BOOTH IN A DRUG STORE

Phyllis is on the phone. She is not dressed as in Norton's

office.

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