Sorry, Wrong Number Page #4

I, Leona, take thee, Henry...

I, Leona, take thee, Henry...

- to my wedded husband...

- to my wedded husband...

- to have and to hold...

- to have and to hold...

- from this day forward...

- from this day forward...

I, Leona, take thee, Henry...

Henry, hurry up, darling.

I've reserved a table at Maxine's.

The opera starts at 7:30.

You know how I hate being late.

- In a minute, sweetheart.

- Where's your wallet?

My wallet?

Must be in my coat pocket.

This is Sally again. I'm sorry I had

to be so mysterious just now...

but I couldn't talk...

my husband was there.

It certainly was rather odd,

to say the least.

This whole thing must seem

very peculiar to you, Leona...

hearing from me

after all of these years.

But I had to see Henry again today.

I've been so worried about him.

Worried? About what?

Well, it's a little bit difficult

for me to explain...

but about five weeks ago, Fred...

He's my husband and he works in

the district attorney's office.

- That's interesting.

- What's interesting?

Drink your milk, Peter.

What were you saying, dear?

Kind of a funny coincidence

I read in the paper...

about an old boyfriend of yours.

What old boyfriend?

Didn't you used to be stuck

on a guy named Henry Stevenson?

I used to know him, yes.

What's he done?

He just got his picture

in the paper... he and his wife.

"Mr. And Mrs. Henry Stevenson...

She is the former Leona Cotterell...

the Cough Drop Queen

of Lake Forest, Illinois...

have taken a house for

the summer in New York City."

"Mrs. Stevenson, in poor health

for several years...

is here to consult the eminent

specialist, Dr. Philip Alexander."

"Mr. Stevenson is a vice president

of the Cotterell Corporation."

A cough drop queen?

That's funny.

Whoever heard of a cough drop queen?

- He looks so different.

- Do you think so?

- What are you saving it for?

- Case I'm working on just now.

Toast is burning.

Fred, I know it's supposed

to be a secret...

but why did you tear out

that clipping?

What possible connection

can Henry Stevenson have to you?

No connection to me. It's just

a hunch I'm working on right now.

- What's it about?

- A special investigation I'm doing.

Henry hasn't done anything, has he?

I'm sorry, honey,

but that's one too many questions.

Say, don't tell me

you're still stuck on the guy?

Don't be silly.

- Finished, Peter?

- Yes, Mom.

Lord speaking.

Yes, Joe.

Oh, you did?

Oh, great.

Well, how about Stevenson?

What? Oh, yeah?

Well, now, that's pretty good news.

He fell for it, eh?

Well, sure we'll go.

Tell Harpootlian to line it up.

Yes, five thousand's enough.

Have it in hundred-dollar bills,

be sure they're marked...

and keep your mouth shut,

for Pete's sake.

Okay. Thursday.

About 6:
30. South Ferry.

Right, Joe.

You'll probably think it wasn't

any of my business, Leona...

and I suppose it wasn't, but anyway

at 6:
30 that next Thursday...

I went down to South Ferry.

I don't know what I expected to see.

As a matter of fact, there wasn't

much I could see at first.

But obviously, the stage

was all set for something.

Joe... He's Fred's closest friend

and is on his staff... was there.

There was another man with him.

I guess he was this

Harpootlian they've mentioned...

the one who was to bring

the $5,000 in marked money.

Are you sure Fred knows where

we're supposed to meet him?

Here he is.

- Sorry. I'm a little bit late.

- Come on. Let's go.

It may all sound silly

to you now, Leona...

my spying on them

and poking around like that...

but something told me

I had to find out what was up.

I don't know.

I still can't explain why...

but I...

I just followed them.

It was one of the weirdest days

I've ever spent.

Have you ever been

to Staten Island, Leona?

Some parts of it, of course,

are thickly settled.

But other parts seem to exist

in a kind of dream...

like the lonely beach

we went to that day.

It was quite a desolate place,

far out on the island.

No one was in sight except...

yes, a young boy...

who was digging for clams

by the water's edge.

Further down at the end

of the beach, there was nothing...

but a few broken-down shacks.

In back of them,

an old deserted house.

A second later,

I saw Fred and the other two men...

walking up toward the end of

a small road leading to the beach.

I couldn't quite make out if they

talked to the clam digger or not.

Anyhow, they entered

one of the shacks...

that looked to me like

an abandoned lunch stand.

It was then that my attention was

drawn to this strange-looking house.

It looked absolutely empty...

as though it hadn't been

lived in for years.

And yet, Leona,

a freshly-painted sign was in front.

"20 Dunstan Terrace."

It seemed to belong to somebody

called Evans... W. Evans.

I waited there watching

I'd say for about an hour.

Nothing happened.

And then...

just as I was beginning to think

it was all a wild goose chase...

I saw something,

something quite strange.

They were in there

for a good half hour.

And when they finally came out,

at first I didn't notice anything.

All I thought of was

how to get out of their way...

so they wouldn't see me, as they

were heading straight toward me.

But when they got close

and passed right in front of me...

I saw Fred was carrying

the briefcase.

I didn't see my husband until

he came home late that night.

I was dying to ask

about what happened there...

and what connection it could

possibly have with Henry...

but I didn't dare.

And now, unless we do something

drastic, it may be too late.

Madam, your five minutes are up.

Please deposit five cents

for the next five minutes.

Just a minute, please.

I know I have another nickel.

There.

Are you still there, Leona?

Yes, I'm here, but this is one of

the queerest things I've ever heard.

I know.

I just didn't seem to be able...

to connect Henry with all of

this mysterious activity either.

That's why I went to see him today...

to find out the truth from him.

- And did you?

- Scarcely.

I'm awfully sorry, but it took

much longer than I thought.

- I hope they took good care of you.

- Yes, thank you.

Two martinis, please. By the way,

tell Louise I'm expecting a call.

- It's very important.

- Yes, sir.

Well, how have you been, Sally?

It's been a long time.

Yes, Henry.

Eight years.

- How's old Grassville these days?

- I don't know.

I haven't been there for years.

Well, you wanted to see me.

What was it about?

Well, it isn't easy

for me to explain.

You see, I've thought about you...

a great deal in the past years,

and, well, yesterday...

- Two martinis. Extra dry as always.

- Thank you.

Well, here's to...

here's to good old Grassville.

Tell me all about it.

What's happening up there?

I just told you, I'm not living

in Grassville anymore.

I'm married now,

and I live in New York.

Well, what do you say?

Anybody I know?

No, he's a lawyer.

As a matter of fact...

he works in the district attorney's

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