Alfred Hitchcock Presents s01e04 Episode Script

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and especially the gentlemen.
All of you have at one time or another speculated on how it would be to be separated from your wife for a week or a weekend.
But have you ever thought of being away from the little woman for seven years? You have? Well, in that case, you will be even more interested in tonight's play called, Don't Come Back Alive.
It's a homey little story of intrigue jealousy, avarice, and fraud.
It will follow immediately after this illustrated lecture on the virtues of our sponsor's product.
May we see the first slide, please? Frank, is that you? I don't know for sure.
What does Frank look like? Let me see.
He's dark and distinguished, handsome, lots of personality.
You must be thinking of Gregory Peck.
No, silly.
If I'd wanted Gregory Peck, I'd have married him.
Why didn't you put the car away? I thought we'd go see him.
Who? Gregory Peck.
At the drive-in movie, silly.
That would be wonderful.
What's this? I thought it would be nicer to eat in here.
Well, this is nice.
Good dinner, bottle of wine, movie just what we need to celebrate.
Frank, you got a job.
Why didn't you tell me right away? I wanted to surprise you.
I am a salesman, madam.
Salary plus commissions.
That's good, isn't it? No limit to what I can earn.
What's the matter? I don't get the job until next month, Mildred.
Frank.
Yes, I know we need it now.
Bills, insurance payments, back rent.
We'll have to struggle through it somehow.
Mr.
Willard called today.
If we don't have the rent by Monday, he's going to evict us.
We can't say we weren't expecting it.
That's the trouble if you don't own your own home.
How many times have I said it? If we just owned our own home We will someday, darling.
You just watch.
Of course, it won't be next year.
But now that you'll be working- I know.
But suppose the bottom falls out of this job the way it did out of the last one? Frank, that last job lasted over four years.
Nothing lasts forever.
But you don't understand, dear.
Even if it does last a few years, say six or seven, I'd be 60 then.
And 60-year-old men just don't get jobs.
That's what scares me, Mildred.
Too old to be employed, too young for old-age pension.
Eat your salad, dear.
We'll get along, we always have.
Yeah, on what? On what I'll save in the next 10 years? There's always our insurance policies, if we can keep up the payments on those.
Sure, we'd have $200 or $300.
It's not an endowment, you know.
One of us has to die.
And I've been thinking that it wouldn't be a bad idea.
Frank, don't talk like that.
Now, I know it's discouraging, but we'll work it out.
I love you.
You're worth a lot more to me than $25,000, and you remember it.
All right, honey, I promise not to do myself in.
What I really had in mind was to spike your wine with a little arsenic.
That's an entirely different matter.
But wouldn't it be safer if I just fell down a well and was never heard of again? That way you could report the matter to the insurance company collect the money, and have a wonderful time.
No one has to die.
No one has to die.
Not actually.
If the insurance company believed that either of us were dead we'd get the $25,000.
Don't you see? If you were to disappear, just vanish completely and I reported you dead, it would be the same thing.
It wouldn't at all.
If it were as simple as that all the dishonest people in the country would be doing it.
Why, it's stealing.
But think of what it would mean to us.
It would mean security, no more worrying about bills and that little place in the country we've been thinking about for so long.
It would be wonderful, but you can't fool an insurance company like that.
They'd have to have proof.
They wouldn't just take your word for it.
Sure, they'd demand a body.
But you know, after a certain length of time, a missing person is considered dead.
You know, you hear about courts declaring people legally dead.
Frank.
How long would I have to be Seven years.
But, of course, that 's just when we'd need it most.
I'd be more than 60 then.
And we wouldn't have to worry, not for a minute.
We'd get a nice, quiet little place in the country.
Just relax and enjoy life.
But seven years, Frank.
I know, honey.
But we could meet occasionally after it all blows over.
You know, we could have dates secretly, and I could court you all over again.
We'd never get away with it.
Would we? Of course, you would have to have to move, rent an apartment under another name, in Los Angeles, for instance.
Change your appearance a little.
If I had a new dress and wore glasses.
I really do need glasses, Frank and maybe dyed my hair.
You'd look 10 years younger.
No one would recognize you.
I guess I have let myself go.
And maybe get a job again.
It would help out on the insurance payments we'd have to keep those up, wouldn't we? Yes.
It won't be easy.
Seven years, that's an awfully long time.
It's just as long for you.
I could stand it, as long as we could keep seeing each other.
In secret, I mean.
And it wouldn't really be stealing, would it? If we kept up the payments.
It really would be our money, wouldn't it? Now I don't care about that.
What can they prove? As long as we do it right, this scheme is foolproof.
Come on, we'll drink a toast.
To the next seven years.
To the next seven years.
Are you ready? I think so.
Now here's the key to the Los Angeles apartment.
I told the agent it was for a Miss Mary Pearson.
The initials are the same.
No danger of mistakes.
Now I'll telephone your sister you're taking the bus.
But she always picks me up when I baby-sit for her.
Don't you think it's odd, my taking a bus? I'll tell her that you had some errands, and that'll cover it.
As soon as I phone, we'll drive straight into LA.
You'll have to be back here by 7:00.
As long as we follow the plan I've laid out, we'll be all right.
Hello, Ed? This is Frank.
Ed, would you tell Lucy that Mildred had some errands to do and that she's taking the bus over to your place? You can't get in touch with her? No, that's quite all right.
Lucy went into town at noon and is coming straight here to pick you up at 6:30.
We can't do it now.
How do you like that woman? You never can depend on her, always upsetting our plans.
We'll just have to put it off till next week.
No, if we put it off now, we'll never do it.
Come on, honey, if we hurry we can still make it.
And we have to make it.
All right, Frank.
When will I see you, Frank? I'll work it out.
I'll write you in a couple of days.
Come on, dear, come on.
I won't be back in time.
All right, Frank.
Goodbye, dear.
Lucy.
What took you so long? I've been ringing for five minutes.
I was taking a nap, I didn't expect you.
You see, Mildred took the bus.
Why should she take a bus? I've always come for her.
I know all that.
She had some errands to do.
I called you.
Ed said you'd already gone.
Why didn't you think of calling me earlier? Then it would have saved me the trip.
Well, at first, Mr.
Kettle, it just seemed like an ordinary mix-up.
Then later, when Lucy got home and found that Mildred hadn't arrived yet, we began to be worried.
Then, when there was no trace of her by midnight we called the police.
Of course, they didn't take it seriously.
It had only been a couple of hours, or so, you see.
But then the next day when there was no trace of her I began to get in a sort of panic, and I called the police again.
You know, it was 24 hours before they sent a man around here from the Missing Persons Bureau.
I imagine they took a little more interest when they found out about the insurance policy.
Yeah, they certainly did.
They've been questioning me for two whole days.
You understand, Mr.
Partridge, I'm just an insurance man.
You don't have to answer any of my questions, if you don't want to.
I have nothing to hide from the police or the insurance company.
Thanks very much.
Now, how is it you didn't drive your wife yourself? She wouldn't hear of it.
I'd been working around the house all day, and she knew that I was tired out.
Very thoughtful of her.
I believe you told the police that you took a nap after she left.
Yes, as a matter of fact, Lucy had to ring several times before she could wake me.
She says it was more than five minutes.
Being asleep, naturally, I wouldn't know about that.
Your sister-in-law says that you had dirt stains on your clothes.
Don't you believe everything that Lucy says.
She's never liked me.
But there were dirt stains.
I'd been working in the garden.
I wanted to get some fresh air to clear my head.
I'm a little muddled, Mr.
Partridge.
I thought you were sleeping.
Well, I was, this was earlier, you see.
Well, before I had the nap.
The clothes were dirty, you were perspiring, out of breath, agitated.
That doesn't sound much to me like a man who'd just awakened from a nap.
Your wife has mysteriously disappeared and you have a $25,000 life insurance policy.
You know, Mr.
Partridge to me, that comes out murder.
Murder? I didn't kill my wife.
I loved her.
And I haven't tried to claim the $25,000.
You will.
But you'll have to produce the body to prove she's dead.
How in the world can I produce a body? We'll help you.
We'll give you all the help we can, Mr.
Partridge.
Good day.
What's going on here? What are you doing? Hello, Mr.
Partridge.
You have no right to do this.
You're ruining my roses.
I know.
Isn't it a shame.
Floribunda.
I grow them myself.
You won't find anything here.
Then you've got nothing to worry about.
Except your roses, of course.
You still think I killed her? I know you killed her.
I just have to prove it.
Aren't you going to watch? No, I'm going in to get myself a drink.
May I offer you one, Mr.
Kettle? No, thanks.
Seems I underestimated you.
I was positive we would have found it by now.
But we will find it, because we have time on our side.
It requires seven years to presume death.
And if necessary, we'll keep searching the whole seven years.
Better answer it, Partridge.
Hello.
Frank.
I had to call.
I couldn't stand it any longer.
Yes, I know.
I've been very busy.
You see, my wife disappeared a week ago.
No, I can't talk to you now- But I've got to see you.
You haven't written me about anything that's happening.
Will you try to meet me somewhere this week? Yes, of course.
Do you promise? Yes, I promise.
Sounded like a woman's voice.
It was a friend of ours.
Don't you mean yours? $25,000 and another woman.
It all fits a very familiar picture.
Well as I said, it's just a matter of time.
These are all 14-day books.
Two cents a day, for every day after that time.
That'll be 30 cents, please.
Frank, I've missed you so much.
Why couldn't we have met before? I didn't dare risk it, honey.
The police, the insurance people have been all over the place.
They think I killed you.
No.
Well, I'll have to come back right away.
It's too late.
We'll have to go through with it.
But we won't be able to meet for a while.
You know, Kettle, the insurance investigator he thinks that I have a girlfriend.
Oh, Frank.
We'll have to be very careful.
I think it'll be much safer if you were further away.
I wouldn't know where to go.
I thought of San Francisco.
It's a big enough place.
You could lose yourself.
You could get a job.
It'll only be a matter of a few months, honey.
Maybe just till Christmas.
I promise I'll spend Christmas with you.
We'll be together at Christmas, all right? Hello? Yes, I was calling San Francisco.
Hello, Mildred.
This is Frank.
Frank, is everything all right? Yes, just fine.
We'll be together tomorrow.
You mean, I can come back now? No, of course not.
I'm coming there.
I've already made plane reservations to fly up in the morning.
I can't believe it.
It's been so long.
Are you really coming? I'll be there.
And I have a Christmas present for you.
I've got one for you, too.
But I didn't think I'd ever be able to give it to you.
Darling, I'm going to cry.
Now, don't cry.
We'll be together tomorrow.
Where shall we meet? It doesn't matter.
Anywhere.
Let's eat first at Vallardi's.
That's down on Fisherman's Wharf.
Thought I'd better drop in on you again.
Wouldn't want you to think I'm neglecting you.
Haven't you got anything better to do than to keep hounding me? Why, I haven't bothered you for a couple of months.
But today, I got to thinking, "This is Christmas "and I'll bet Mr.
Partridge is getting sentimental.
" Seems I was right? For the lady friend? I've told you 1,000 times, I haven't got a lady friend.
I love my wife.
But your wife has been dead for five months.
And here you are with a Christmas present.
Perfume? You wouldn't be giving perfume to anyone but a lady, would you? This is for my wife's sister, Lucy.
Well, that's certainly very forgiving of you considering she practically accuses you of killing her sister.
I'm doing this for Mildred's sake.
She would want it that way.
I'll ride over with you.
You don't mind, do you? It isn't as if you were calling on a lady friend, is it? I guess my friend isn't coming.
Remember me, Mr.
Partridge? Of course I do.
It's been quite a while.
Here.
I brought your mail in for you.
Nothing very exciting there, no love letters anyway.
There's nobody to write them.
You really fooled me.
I was sure there was another woman.
You fooled yourself, Mr.
Kettle.
I told you that six years ago.
Maybe now you'll believe me.
About another woman? Yes.
You killed your wife all right, Mr.
Partridge.
Though to this day, I'll be darned if I know what you did with the body.
If you want to read your mail, go ahead.
It's just bills and advertisements.
And the number of times I went down to the morgue.
I figured it was just a question of time before somebody would find the body.
You told me that last year, and the year before, and the year before that.
What are you going to do with the $25,000? You don't have it yet, and I don't think you ever will.
But what are your plans? I'm going away, so far away that I won't ever have to see you again.
Come now, there's nothing personal in this.
I don't take any moral stand.
Maybe you had a good reason for killing her.
I told you over and over, I did not kill my wife.
You've been persecuting me for years.
I've had about all of this that I'm going to take.
Now you get out of my house.
Get out.
That's a bad temper you've got.
Is that how it happened six years ago? I'm warning you.
I think you're about ready to crack.
You've got another whole year to go and I don't think you're going to make it.
Dear friend, I was happy to receive your recent letter and must apologize for being slow in answering.
For one thing, I had a week off and went up to the mountains.
Lake Tahoe.
It was lovely this time of year.
Hope you are well and taking care of yourself.
Mildred? What on earth are you doing here? I had to see you.
But it's dangerous.
You shouldn't have come.
I was careful.
No one saw me.
Only a couple of days to go.
So this is what it's like after seven years.
It's strange, I'd always thought of it as being larger.
I guess I'm not much of a housekeeper.
Mildred, you look wonderful.
I suppose one's bound to change in seven years.
I'm sorry I was irritable, honey, but you gave me a start.
I can't tell you how good it is to have you back.
I'm not back.
The time is almost up, dear.
I was just writing you a letter.
In two more days, I go into court.
It's no good.
I want to drop the whole scheme.
I want a divorce.
A divorce? You want a divorce? I'm sorry, Frank.
It just hasn't worked out, our being apart all these years.
Nothing's the same.
I've made a new life.
New interests, new values and a new love.
But we love each other.
We always have.
Nothing has changed.
I'm afraid it has.
We've both changed in different ways.
I want to get married again, and I don't intend to be a bigamist.
What about our plan? What about the $25,000? That's out, of course.
But I've been able to save a little money.
About $1,500.
I'd like for you to have it.
$1,500.
I'll come back to life, claim amnesia and we'll get a divorce.
Are you listening, Frank? Yes, I'm listening, but it doesn't make sense.
I've waited and sacrificed for seven long years for that $25,000.
Now you want to pay me off with $1,500.
It's the best I can do.
I don't know you.
You're not Mildred, you're a stranger coming in here in the middle of the night to steal my money, my $25,000.
But you're not going to do it.
You're not going to have my money.
You're dead.
You've been dead for seven long years.
Don't you understand? You are dead! You've been dead too long to come back now.
Well, Partridge, big day? Off to court.
Get off my property.
Let's not have any hard feelings.
You beat me.
You bet I beat you.
Every step of the way for seven long years.
You were so smug, so eternally sure of yourself.
What have you got to show for it? Rub it in, Partridge.
You're entitled to it.
Been doing some work in the garden? I was just doing a little spading.
I'm putting in some floribunda.
Haven't got very far with it.
My back's been bothering me.
Tell you what? Just to show you there's no hard feeling while you're gone, I'll spade it up for you.
No, don't bother.
That's all right.
I'll enjoy it.
Good exercise.
I'll have it finished by the time you get back from court.
By way of tidying up our story I feel obliged to tell you that Mrs.
Partridge eventually received what is termed "a decent burial.
" While this did not make her feel any better knowing it may allow you to rest more easily.
Well, that's our story for this evening.
All of our show, including the following commercial, is on film.
However, the corpse on tonight's program originated live in New York City.
I'll be back in a minute.
And now if you don't mind, I shall stage a disappearance of my own.
But don't be alarmed.
I shall not stay out of sight for seven years.
Just seven days.
When I reappear, it will be to tell you another of our little fairy stories for grown-up children.