Whirlpool

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A grey convertible, please.

Yes, madam.

Turn off your motor, please.

Come on.

- Close that door. What do you want?

- I'm the store detective.

- I haven't time.

- It won't take long.

- Open your bag.

- I don't understand.

Open it, please!

I'm going home.

I won't be talked to like this!

- If you want it this way. Harry!

- Yes, Mr Hogan?

I just want you to witness this.

- See this pin?

- Yes, Mr Hogan.

OK.

Do you have a sales slip for it?

If you have, I'll take a look at it.

Come on, we're wasting time.

You'll have a crowd in a minute.

Main floor.

(Woman) She's probably just faking.

They usually do when they're caught,

especially the fancy-looking ones.

All right, lady. You're awake now.

Let's have your name.

No, I can't tell you my name.

We've got the goods on you, you can't

wiggle your way out of this!

The salesgirl saw you.

The mermaid pin was $300,

she wanted something more expensive.

I turned to the showcase

and I saw her reflection as she...

The pin was removed from your purse.

You can give me your name and come

clean or save it all for the police.

- The police?

- You'd better talk now.

You mustn't speak, Mrs Sutton. You're

still dizzy and too weak to remember.

Wait a minute. Is he a lawyer?

Mr Simms knows who I am.

Yes, but I'm busy, Mr Korvo.

If this woman is a friend...

She's no friend of mine.

It's you I'm concerned about.

And your wife,

who is a client and a dear friend.

She wouldn't like the trouble

you're making for yourself.

You don't have to worry about me,

I'm in no trouble.

Not yet. This could be the biggest

publicity mess any store got into.

This woman you're badgering

is Mrs William Sutton,

wife of the distinguished

psychoanalyst.

Treating her like a thief will bring

discredit on you and your store.

- See if Mrs Sutton has an account.

- I'm sure she has.

Your job as manager is to protect

your clients and store from scandal.

I don't need advice about my job.

Wait till you see your name

splashed across the front pages

as the man who hounded a sick woman

into a nervous breakdown.

Oh, she's sick now(?)

You know she is.

You've had experience.

A woman that wealthy isn't a thief.

- The pin was in her purse!

- The thief didn't put it there.

You mean she's a kleptomaniac?

Dr and Mrs Sutton have a had

an account with us for five years.

I see.

Yes, I see.

Mrs Sutton is wealthy enough

to buy a dozen such pins.

- Now look, I don't want any trouble.

- Exactly what I thought.

However, we'll have to make

a record of this and keep it on file,

even if we don't report it.

Thank you, Mr Simms. Why not add the

cost of the pin to Mrs Sutton's bill?

It will solve the immediate problem

to everybody's advantage.

It's now legally yours, Mrs Sutton.

You've bought it, paid for it

and are free to wear it.

Without agitating the police.

Is there someone with my husband?

- Yes, there is.

- I must see him now.

- Please tell him.

- I have orders not to disturb him...

I know, I know.

- Of course, if you're ill or...

- Take a note.

Just give it to him.

I'll wait upstairs.

I must tell him.

Right away.

(Door opens and closes)

Ann!

Ann, you all right?

- Hello, darling.

- What's wrong, dear?

Nothing, darling.

Thanks. Nothing.

You look terribly handsome

before your chattering patients

have worn you out.

Miss Hall told me you were very

disturbed. You insisted violently...

So silly, "violently"! I just stopped

to ask her if you were busy.

I wondered if you wanted to go

to the concert tonight.

You haven't heard any real music for

such a long time. It might relax you.

Hall must be losing her grip

on reality.

I guess she's so used

to my poor patients

that everything sounds

like hysteria to her.

I'd like to skip the concert if you

don't mind. I want to write tonight.

- Of course not, darling.

- Thanks.

I'm terribly sorry you had to leave

a patient for no reason.

It's no harm done.

He won't miss me. It's that

young veteran I told you about.

- The one who won't talk?

- Mm-hm.

After two weeks,

he still comes in every day.

He sits down, can't talk.

Why does he come to you

if he won't let you help him?

He will eventually.

It's difficult to begin unloading

fears and secrets and guilts.

Poor fellow. The war was an easier

conflict than the one he's in now.

Oh, Bill. Struggling with those sick

people and their wretched complexes.

How you must hate them.

I don't hate them, darling.

I try to help them. They're my job...

No, your job is using your brain

and finishing your book.

You said so yourself: They interfere.

Stop worrying about me

as a frustrated genius.

I'm not, I'm a busy doctor

and a happy husband,

a combination I wouldn't trade

for a dozen books.

Oh, Bill, you're wonderful.

You've always been

so very wonderful to me.

- I just wish that...

- Wish what?

That I could help you.

If I were only brighter

and you could talk to me

about your scientific problems.

Just stay as you are, as you've

always been:
Healthy and adorable.

(Phone rings)

Dr Sutton's residence.

- Who is it?

- Who's calling? Just a minute.

Mr David Korvo.

Tell him I haven't time to...

Never mind. You can clean up later.

Hello, Mr Korvo.

(Door closes)

I'm sorry, but I can't.

I'm busy today.

Mr Korvo, it's utterly impossible.

I have a luncheon engagement.

But why should I see you?

I quite understand.

Of course if you insist...

Yes.

Yes, I'll be there. One o'clock.

Well...

Thank you, Vincent.

You were wise

not to tell your husband.

A successful marriage

is usually based

on what a husband and wife

don't know.

- Too frightened to eat, Mrs Sutton?

- I'm not hungry.

Waiting for the wretched blackmailer

to remove his mask?

What do you want?

- You mean... how much?

- Yes.

Well, I saved you

from an ugly scandal,

one that could ruin

your distinguished husband's career.

What an advertisement

for a psychoanalyst:

"Married unaware to a kleptomaniac".

And you would pay me to keep this

whimsical fact out of the papers?

Yes.

- Now?

- Yes, now.

I can see I was never cut out

to be a villain.

I dislike inspiring so much terror

in such a lovely woman.

Please don't talk to me.

Oh, yes, I forgot,

you're buying my silence.

$5,000! Dear me, that's quite a sum,

considering that it's tax-free.

I take it you don't intend to report

this to Uncle Sam or your husband.

Very few wives

are in so fortunate a position

with a bank account of their own,

obviously a large one.

That's all I'll pay.

That's quite enough.

Isn't it?

You're rather disillusioning,

Mrs Sutton,

for the wife of so brilliant a man.

First for assuming you would get rid

of a blackmailer by giving him money,

secondly, and worse,

by identifying me as a nasty crook.

Here is your cheque, Mrs Sutton.

You've disturbed my vanity

rather deeply.

I always fancied

I had a fine, upright look,

and that an honest heart shone out

of my not-too-splendid face.

(Sobs)

I'm joking, Mrs Sutton.

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