Cold Case s02e02 Episode Script
Factory Girls
April 5, 1943 Never can get enough girls for all the shifts.
And heaven knows, we have to work 24 hours a day for victory.
Sure.
They're a real nice bunch.
You'll see.
Well, this here's Martha.
Martha, meet Alice Miller.
Hi there, joining the line? I suppose.
Husband overseas? Watch it, girls.
Goodness.
Better get that girl a pair of slacks.
That's Fannie.
Dottie, this the new girl? Yes, sir.
My neighbor Alice.
Know how to work a vertical lathe.
I've never worked a day in my life.
Oh, it's no tougher than a sewing machine, you'll see.
- What is it? - Air raid siren.
It's just practice.
If it was the real thing, you would a heard the bombs already.
Lil.
Hey, Dana.
Are these the Rosie the Riveters? Give them the parts, a few weeks, they can build you a war plane.
How's your story going? Well, this was the assignment nobody wanted, but my great aunt was one of the workers and it turns out, there is a bigger story here.
Martha, come meet Lilly Rush.
You're the lady detective.
Nice to meet you.
Martha worked with my aunt Alice.
A real nice gal.
Quiet as a mouse at first, but couldn't have been sweeter.
Terrible, what happened.
The official story was she died in a fall.
But here's the thing.
The night they say she fell was my last night on the job.
Before I left, I asked the owner where Alice was, wanting to say goodbye.
And? He told me she quit, wasn't working there anymore.
But they found the body the next day at the factory in her work clothes.
Could your memory be mistaken? You get old, you start forgetting things, you don't start making them up.
What was the owner's name? Henry Walker.
Mean as a snake.
And a drinker.
I could smell liquor on his breath that night.
The guy was hiding something.
Like, maybe Alice didn't fall.
Maybe she was pushed.
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Who brought it to you, Lil? Dana Hunter.
Her great aunt died in a factory accident, 1943.
Is that that pushy reporter? Yeah, the pretty one, covers court.
She's doing a story on women of World war II, met some of the factory girls who knew her aunt.
I don't like that Dana.
Yeah, that's 'cause she covered the chimayo job, kept writing you had no new leads.
Truth hurts, man.
Anyway, now she's thinking this accident, looks more like homicide.
Let's say it was.
Doer's probably dead.
Whole thing's a formality.
You just don't want to drive out to records and storage.
Skip it.
No one cares.
What's with you? He's just happy.
It's his anniversary.
You wanna KO this one, boss? Too old to matter? No, take a drive.
See what's there.
Great, boss.
Thanks.
Do we really need this police telegraph? Everything we can get.
There's probably like one page.
We can blow it up.
we're not gonna need much help.
What does the factory report say? Accidental death.
Impact from the fall, broke her neck, but.
.
hmm, this is interesting.
Guess who found her body.
Uh, I give up.
Henry Walker.
The mean drunk.
The mean drunk who told Martha Alice didn't work there anymore.
September, '43.
Telegraph from the 39th district.
Three pages.
Alice Miller, age 22, reported missing by husband, Nelson, 11:20 in the evening.
He found two whiskey glasses on the kitchen table when he came home, but no Alice.
She was partying with someone? Henry Walker had liqour on his breath that night.
Drinking buddies.
Or more.
Problem is, Walker's dead, 1988.
Is anyone alive? Alice's husband.
In East Falls.
I never understood those whiskey glasses.
Alice and I were teatotallers.
You were out that evening? Seeing about getting my old job back.
Got home and don't I found those two glasses on the table.
What time was that? Oh, eight or so.
I got worried enough by 11 to notify the police.
You didn't know she had gone to the factory? She quit that place the day I got back from the war.
So you must have been surprised they found her there.
I've only been back a few days, I figured cross wires.
Maybe they got her to come back for one last shift.
She didn't like the job? Oh, she did.
But she was a curtains girl.
What's that? Saying was when it's curtains for the axis, it's lace curtains for her.
So when the war was done, back to the kitchen? I know it's out of fashion now but that's what Alice wanted.
I blame myself for sending her to work.
It was my idea.
Tomatoes do real well.
So do radishes.
It's so difficult preparing Nelson's meals.
We won't eat that variety meat.
Our boys need the fresh cuts more than we do.
Take a look, Nelson.
I planted our own victory garden.
Swell.
Alice.
Oh, no.
We knew this was coming.
What do I do? Write me every day, pray for victory.
It's his duty, Alice.
I know.
I know.
Look here, kitten.
Women wanted.
Important war work.
/ No.
No, I couldn't possibly.
A lot of girls are working for victory.
I'm too shy.
I'm not cut out for that kind of thing.
It'll help pass time, bring me home faster.
I'll take you to the factory Monday, introduce you to my boss.
Kitten, give it a try.
You might surprise yourself.
I shoulda listened to her.
She was too delicate for that kind of thing.
Ever meet Alice's boss, Henry Walker? No, never did.
Know any of her factory friends? Just our neighbor Dottie who got her the job.
Lives right over there.
I was Mr.
Walker's secretary.
Good man? He was a Christian man, but he was in a lot of pain.
He lost two sons to the war.
Is that why he drank? He wasn't a saint.
Think he and Alice coulda had a drink together before work that night? Heavens, no.
He was the boss, she was She was just a factory girl.
It's probably be done before.
More likely, it was one of her new friends.
What new friends? Alice has started to run with the fast crowd at Brill, and they were known to hit the sauce.
So was her boss.
Once again, Mr.
Walker and Alice were not friendly.
What was the problem? A secretary doesn't tell secrets.
Mr.
Walker's dead, Dottie.
You can't hurt him.
Well, Alice did come to me one day.
I say it's rotten we girls getting the lowest wages.
Why don't you write to Mrs.
Roosevelt about it? She likes to meddle into unpopular causes.
Excuse me, Dottie.
You should be on a poster with that perfect wave.
Am I intruding? I'll leave you girls.
Stay away from that one.
She's got a past.
So, how are you doing out on the floor? I've doubled my pace on the drill press.
Well, that's fine.
I've noticed something, Dottie, the last few weeks.
What's that? We're missing boxes of rivets.
Every third day, we're short one.
You must be counting wrong.
No, I'm sure of it.
I thought I'd tell Mr.
Walker.
I wouldn't.
Someone's stealing materials like that, it's awfully unpatriotic.
Alice, listen to me, now.
Don't mention it to Mr.
Walker.
It sounds like something the boss would want to know.
Unless he was the one lifting the boxes? Mr.
Walker wasn't a saint.
What can you remember from the night Alice died, Dottie? Big even tlike that probably stayed in your mind pretty good.
I do recall that Mr.
Walker disappeared for quite a while that night.
And that was unusual.
Were you there when he found Alice, the next day? No.
We worked the night shift that evening.
He shouldn't have been there in the morning.
My dad worked his tail off for Brill.
If he was there that morning, it's cuz he stayed all night doing the books.
He do that a lot? Pull all nighters? Whatever it took.
What about drinking on the job? Was that a regular thing? He was a drunk his whole life.
Died of liver failure.
How about Alice Miller? Heard she and your dad were getting along.
Look, fellars.
I was 17.
I was thinking about other things.
You remember accusing him of skimming supplies? You know about that? Yeah.
My older brothers died in the war.
Dad felt he was owed some payback.
That justified the pilfering? Alice shouldn't have brought that up to him.
So she did confront him with it.
Want to go to the show today? There's something new on.
Yeah, what? Think it's called Casablanca.
Take a girl your own age, someone from school.
Oh, they're all bunch of dumb klutz.
Inventory.
geared, and inspected.
Keep 'em coming.
Um, Mr.
Walker, can I have a moment? It's about the blind rivets.
Yes? They disappear with regularity, both the Cherry and Dupont.
I.
.
I know what you're doing.
What? That you're involved with side businesses.
You wanna be fired on the spot, Ms.
Miller? / No, I want something else.
I need help.
There's someone named Ivan.
Who's Ivan? Alice had secrets.
No guesses on what that all meant? All's I know is she thanked him for his help.
And said she hoped to heaven her husband didn't find out.
So, who's Ivan? Her boyfriend? What kind of help did Alice need? Whatever it was, she didn't want the husband knowing.
Sounds naughty.
Why would she go to the factory owner for help? He had access to something on the side.
Underground.
He still a suspect? Yeah, but his motive ain't clear.
Bank records always come through.
What have you got? Alice opened up her own account in May, 1943, made weekly deposits of 35 dollars.
Her factory salary.
Makes sense.
And it keeps making sense until July, '43, when 2000 bucks shows up.
How's a woman in 1943 get that kind of money? Like I said, naughty.
Your mind goes right to the gutter.
Who wants to bet me? I do.
Twenty bucks.
Going to court, boss.
Dana dug through her attic last night, got something for me.
Send her my regards.
Never heard of Ivan.
Me neither.
Where'd you hear the name? Just came up in the investigation.
Maybe part of her new crowd from the factory.
Nelson tells me Alice was a writer.
Yeah? Poems, short stories.
She was too shy to let anyone read them.
She always said everyone had at least one story that could stop your heart.
So you take after her.
I'll let you gals talk.
You know, if you pack your lunch, you wouldn't have to pay 6 dollars to eat.
Child of the Depression.
You're a frugal man.
Alice lived with the crash, too.
She understood.
A lesser woman might have minded it, not her.
Bye.
For years, people tried to set him up after Alice died, and he'd just say, I've had my wife.
So, what'd you find in the attic? Oh, her diaries.
These cover the early forties.
Maybe she wrote about Ivan.
Badminton with the gang.
That was a big sport with 43.
Took the Pennsy Railroad to visit her mother.
Amtrak hadn't made the scene yet.
Anyone find Henry Walker or Ivan? Looking.
Rations on beef means eggs or horsemeat for supper.
Horsemeat? Now that's a deal breaker.
Oh, pay dirt.
Ivan? Henry.
June, 12, 1943, Henry sent me to Smokies dance hall.
I'm looking for the owner, Richard.
Not here.
/ Oh.
Maybe I can help you.
I doubt it.
What do you want from Richard? Nylons? Liquor? Certainly not.
Black market's his specialty.
That's not what I'm after.
Old stag with soda, Bruno.
You drinking? I have to get home.
For what? Not the husband or kids.
Dr.
IQ on the radio? Maybe I will have a drink.
Two on the house.
Lonesome, ain't it? All the men overseas.
Can be.
They tell you at work to steer clear of me? Account of my checkered past? No details.
Just to keep your distance.
What did you do? They say I shot my husband.
And I did, too.
But I had a reason.
Did you kill him? Just blew up his shoulder.
He ran off after that.
So why did you come to Smokies, huh? I came because I believed what you said.
End of entry.
She believed what Fannie said when? Who's Fannie? One of the factory girls.
D'you think she really shot her husband? Better find out.
I'll go with ya.
I'd like to meet an 80-year-old who shot a guy.
Me and Alice, we started out kinda shaky, but then we got along.
We pulled an arrest record from 1940, Fannie.
Not my best year.
Seems you've shot your husband in a late night dispute? Not until he took a screwdriver to my head.
Yeah, that's in there, too.
You didn't have any reason to hurt Alice, did you? No, sir.
I loved that girl.
You two must have been an odd pair.
War time made for unusual companions.
All the men were away and you made friends where you could find them.
So you and Alice were friends with each other? Making B-25's together, it kinda bonds you.
Did you ever hear her talk about Ivan? Sure.
Who was he? Her cousin in Europe.
You see, her family was Jewish.
She hadn't heard from Ivan in months which worried her and I told her she had good reason to worry.
I met this seaman last night at Smokies.
You meet a seaman every night at Smokies.
Anyone bring stockings to donate? I did.
Penciling in your own seams looks just as nice as your nylons.
Matter of opinion.
Smoking now, are we? Just on breaks.
So this here sailor just came back from Europe.
He says there's real bad things happening over there.
Like what? Like there's these camps.
For Jews.
We're doing the same to the Japs.
Except these aren't just internment camps.
Then what are they? They're killing people there.
We'd be hearing it on Ed Murrow if that were true.
You sure they're doing that to Jews? Herding them up, taking them off to die.
I don't believe it.
Neither do I.
It seems crazy now, but most people didn't know the truth until the Liberation.
So Alice was trying to help Ivan.
Smokies' owner was a Portuguese fellar, Richard.
Had a contact in the consulate that could be helpful to her.
For a fee.
Said for 2000 dollars, he would smuggle Ivan into Lisbon.
The amount in the bank acount.
Oh so, she got the money? Any idea how? Well, no thanks to her husband.
So, Nelson did know Ivan? Oh sure, and Alice begged him to help, but he wouldn't budge.
Thought you didn't know who Ivan was, Nelson.
You forget he was your wife's cousin? No.
Then what? I wanna cooperate.
It's a funny way of showing it.
I brought these letters.
All the correspondents from the war.
Let's not lose focus.
Why did you lie about Ivan? Because I didn't believe her, I didn't think he was in danger.
This one's from Alice, June, '43, asking me for the money.
Telling you what she heard about the camps? I was in Europe.
I never heard such a thing.
I thought it was just gossip that she'd picked up at the factory.
And you're a frugal man.
So I wrote back, said no.
Few months later, Ivan was dead.
So how did you figure Alice came by that two K? I don't know how, but with these letters, you can tell when.
What do you mean? She wrote about him in every letter until July, 11th.
But she doesn't mention him again.
So the problem was solved by then? - Could we hang on to these? - Please.
I'm sorry I lied.
I just.
.
I've been so ashamed of this for 60 years.
Between the diaries and letters, we know Alice got that money July, 10th.
A month after she started trying to raise it.
Could be the month Ivan died.
So what happened that day, July, 10th.
She worked the day shift and then there was a swing for victory dance at Smokies.
Smokies again.
Figure something happened that night.
Someone she met there gave her the two K.
In exchange for what? Let's recreate that night, go back to Smokies and take Fannie and Martha with us.
Well, the place is still around.
An Italian restaurant now.
There you go.
Scotty found the old owner, Richard.
Retired in Merriam.
Well, between the three of them, maybe they can piece together Alice's night.
Let's take a field trip.
Oh.
Lordy, I spent a lot of hours in here.
Makes me feel twenty again.
You swing? - Excuse me? - She means dance.
Right, no.
I'm a two left feet guy.
For good time, girls.
Richard.
Francesca.
Martha.
I'm John Stillman.
And this is Lilly Rush.
How do you do? You remember our friend Alice Miller? A real swell girl palled around with us the summer of '43.
Sure.
There was one night in particular.
The swing for victory dance? Big business that night.
I worked the bar with Bruno.
Oh, and I met a real nice marine.
And Alice and I were dancing, collecting a quarter a song.
That makes three dollars even.
Martha.
Was that serviceman getting fresh with you? Yes, lucky thing you came by.
Oil us up, Richard.
What you drinking? Rum and coca-cola.
Saw you out there breaking hearts, Alice.
With that neckline who could overlook her? Is it too low? It's just not the Alice we met a few months ago.
I suppose it's just nice having some men our age around again.
They'll all be shipped off again soon.
Then it's back to us girls and gimps with bad teeth.
We are not all 4-F.
the rest of the night.
Why, Buddy.
Starting right now.
You gotta stop this.
You're selling your dances, I'm buying it.
You can't keep following me.
Behave yourself, Buddy.
Don't treat me like a kid.
You are a kid.
I'm old enough to go kill people, I'm old enough to be with you.
Lays it right out, don't he.
Let's go for a walk.
So, Henry's son was there? I've forgotten that.
And Alice left with him? Don't think I saw her the rest of the night.
The boy was pretty determined to get her alone.
Oh, Buddy had it bad for Alice.
And I've forgotten about that marine, too.
Oh look him up, maybe he'll get fresh with you again.
This Richard who owned the dance hall had a colorful career.
He was a horse bookie, graftman, and proprietor of house of assignation.
A house of what? That's polite for whore house.
I'm calling it a night, guys.
Crap, I gotta get home.
You wanna hit the Black Sheep, have a pint? Nah, I'm good.
You talking to Elisa at all? She's back in the hospital.
Oh, I didn't know, Scotty.
It's a circle game.
She's sick and better, and for a while you're hoping and then it starts again.
Yeah.
I just can't go round and round with her any more.
So I was sweet on Alice.
So what? Sweet can turn to sour on a dime.
And if it's so what, why not tell us that in our first conversation.
It's just a kid's crush.
a lot of money to throw down.
Where does a 17-year-old get a cash like that? / My dad.
Tell us what happened when you and Alice went walking after the dance.
What's it matter? That wasn't the night she died.
Then you don't mind telling us about it.
Oh, jiminy We didn't go walking.
We went driving.
How do you come by gasoline for this big old car in times like these? My dad has his ways.
Sorry, Alice.
Honest.
I lost my cool.
Okay.
So, why are you trying to make money? To help someone.
Who? It's complicated.
Never mind about it.
You and your secrets.
Well, I got a secret, too.
What's that? My dad has an account for me.
For when I go to college.
Yeah? Wants me to take it and run away.
Wait out the war.
He doesn't wanna lose a third son.
Yeah, but no amount of money's gonna make me run.
I want to serve.
Soon as I turn 18, do like my brothers did.
I want you to have the money.
I couldn't.
I know I'm just a kid to you.
Buddy, you're a swell kind of guy and you're gonna find a girl who's just right for you.
Will you wait for me? I can't.
I ain't scared of dying.
Don't say that.
But I am scared of going never having kissed you.
Well, here's the dirty shame.
You're at that window day and night, aren't you, Dottie.
I was simply walking Lady.
Weren't spying at all.
You should be ashamed of yourself, Buddy.
I'm not.
But you're a red-blooded youth, it's almost understandable.
Please, Dottie.
You have a good man overseas and he deserves better.
- Someone like you, you mean? - Maybe so.
I know you'd love that.
- Well, listen to the five cent tramp.
- Says the fussy old maid.
So you gave her the money.
That old maid comment must have hit below the belt.
Especially back then.
A girl who wasn't married was considered a real flop.
And I guess Dottie was pretty in love with Alice's husband.
That could make you wanna take a girl out.
Arrange for an accident.
We've been your letters, Dottie.
I don't know what you mean.
War time correspondence.
Dear Nelson, how empty the neighborhood feels with you gone.
He gave you that? I hear the radio reports every night and think of my brave soldier fight in the axis.
Now, why are you calling someone else's husband my soldier? Are you accusing me of having an affair with Nelson? No.
We ain't.
Boy, that Alice had all the luck.
Popular at work, more popular than you ever were.
I wasn't interested in that.
Painting town nights with the new girlfriends, going to the show, dancing.
Teenage boys falling for her right there on the street for all to see.
Why couldn't some stuff like that happen to you? Why were you an old maid and she was the girl of the hour? So you know about that night with Buddy? She had sweethearts to spare and you had none.
All you wanted was Nelson.
And factory accidents did happen.
Alice was changing, straying.
I felt Nelson should know.
So you wrote to him.
Real faithful.
Maybe he'd get the drift, you'd make the better wife? How did it go when he got back? You make a move? He came home wounded and it was plain as day that Alice didn't know how to be a good wife anymore.
Real nice you'd bring pie, Dottie.
Blueberry, too.
Nelson's favorite.
Kind of a welcome home.
Got any vanilla ice cream, Alice? Make it a la mode.
No, I don't.
I noticed the victory garden's dead.
I didn't keep it up.
House could use a dusting, too.
No pie for me, Dottie.
I'm off to the night shift.
I would think that now that Nelson's home, you'd be done at the factory.
Easy.
Oh heavens, I'm sorry.
Try this, dear.
Since when is there a whiskey in the house? I bought it for your pain.
Do you mean to say Alice that you are going to keep on at Brill even with Nelson home? Turns out I like it there.
Do you now.
It's nice feeling useful.
Do you know, Nelson, I helped build 14 B-25 Mitchells.
My.
Plus having my own paycheck.
I give you your allowance.
It just feels different when you earned it yourself.
Well, I work because I'm a single gal.
If I were married, I'd be more than content to just keep house, do the washing, bake pies.
I made some nice friends at the factory, too.
Yeah, I heard about your friends, in particular a young teenage friend.
I'll take this to Martha, it's her last shift tonight.
More pie? But he didn't go for it, huh? No.
I'm sure it's amusing to you young people, but to this day, I would jump for Nelson if he wanted me.
But he wanted Alice.
Even after she changed so.
Now, did he go the factory that night to set his wife flying straight again? You were real helpful giving us Mr.
Walker, Dottie.
Is that because you were protecting someone else? - Nelson is a good man.
- Come on now, Dot.
He ain't gonna choose you.
I saw him with Mr.
Walker that night.
Where? They went in to his office late, stayed about an hour.
You were pretty surprised to see Nelson there? Yes.
But? A secretary doesn't tell secrets.
Plus, all those feelings you had for him.
Nelson just wanted the wife that he had before he went away.
That war changed everybody.
So, news on Alice? I talked to Dottie.
Is that right? You knew Alice put those whiskey glasses out that night.
And that she went to the factory, cuz you went there, too.
Dottie said that? Was it the boy? Or that she didn't need allowance any more.
Didn't make you nice home-made pies? You learned a lot.
It's my job.
Well, you're good at it.
I've been reading Alice's diaries.
Told you she could write.
Did you know she was so terrified her first morning of work she got sick in the girls' room? No.
Almost left at lunch time but she felt her skills were so poor.
I didn't know that.
And she was so filthy at the end of that day that she got looks from the men on the bus who surely take a dim view of working girls in grubby slacks.
It wasn't easy for her making that change.
/ No.
But she was brave, and cleared the way for the people coming behind her.
I loved her.
Then honor her, tell the rest of her story.
I just went there to ask her to come home.
What's so terrible about that? Nothing.
The factory owner saw something, didn't he? How'd you keep him quiet? I gave him my war bonds.
I was only away six months, but it was like I didn't know the girl I came home to.
What are you doing here? We need to talk, kid.
You should be home, you're injured.
I'm sorry, kitten.
Okay.
Stop all this foolishness and get on to home.
I'm not off till six.
Forget this place.
I don't think I can.
I don't care about the boy, what Dottie told me.
I still wanna have a life with you, Nelson.
I do love you.
I love you, kitten.
It has to be a different kind of life now.
I changed.
We'll give it six months.
- You'll change back.
- No.
I couldn't bare to sit home, not making anything of the day, having no company.
Not now, knowing what I can do.
There's a whole rich life I can have besides being a wife.
It's enough now.
- It's that or it's nothing.
- Alice, you cut it out.
Nelson, let me go.
I'll let you go.
# Bing CrosbyÀÇ 'Don't Fence Me In' # # Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me ride through the wide open country that I love, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze, # # And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees, # # Send me off forever but I ask you please, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me ride through the wide open country that I love, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze, # # And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees, # # Send me off forever but I ask you please, # # Don't fence me in.
# # I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences # # And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses # # And I can't look at hovels and I can't stand fences # # Don't fence me in.
# # No.
# # Poppa, don't you fence me in #
And heaven knows, we have to work 24 hours a day for victory.
Sure.
They're a real nice bunch.
You'll see.
Well, this here's Martha.
Martha, meet Alice Miller.
Hi there, joining the line? I suppose.
Husband overseas? Watch it, girls.
Goodness.
Better get that girl a pair of slacks.
That's Fannie.
Dottie, this the new girl? Yes, sir.
My neighbor Alice.
Know how to work a vertical lathe.
I've never worked a day in my life.
Oh, it's no tougher than a sewing machine, you'll see.
- What is it? - Air raid siren.
It's just practice.
If it was the real thing, you would a heard the bombs already.
Lil.
Hey, Dana.
Are these the Rosie the Riveters? Give them the parts, a few weeks, they can build you a war plane.
How's your story going? Well, this was the assignment nobody wanted, but my great aunt was one of the workers and it turns out, there is a bigger story here.
Martha, come meet Lilly Rush.
You're the lady detective.
Nice to meet you.
Martha worked with my aunt Alice.
A real nice gal.
Quiet as a mouse at first, but couldn't have been sweeter.
Terrible, what happened.
The official story was she died in a fall.
But here's the thing.
The night they say she fell was my last night on the job.
Before I left, I asked the owner where Alice was, wanting to say goodbye.
And? He told me she quit, wasn't working there anymore.
But they found the body the next day at the factory in her work clothes.
Could your memory be mistaken? You get old, you start forgetting things, you don't start making them up.
What was the owner's name? Henry Walker.
Mean as a snake.
And a drinker.
I could smell liquor on his breath that night.
The guy was hiding something.
Like, maybe Alice didn't fall.
Maybe she was pushed.
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Who brought it to you, Lil? Dana Hunter.
Her great aunt died in a factory accident, 1943.
Is that that pushy reporter? Yeah, the pretty one, covers court.
She's doing a story on women of World war II, met some of the factory girls who knew her aunt.
I don't like that Dana.
Yeah, that's 'cause she covered the chimayo job, kept writing you had no new leads.
Truth hurts, man.
Anyway, now she's thinking this accident, looks more like homicide.
Let's say it was.
Doer's probably dead.
Whole thing's a formality.
You just don't want to drive out to records and storage.
Skip it.
No one cares.
What's with you? He's just happy.
It's his anniversary.
You wanna KO this one, boss? Too old to matter? No, take a drive.
See what's there.
Great, boss.
Thanks.
Do we really need this police telegraph? Everything we can get.
There's probably like one page.
We can blow it up.
we're not gonna need much help.
What does the factory report say? Accidental death.
Impact from the fall, broke her neck, but.
.
hmm, this is interesting.
Guess who found her body.
Uh, I give up.
Henry Walker.
The mean drunk.
The mean drunk who told Martha Alice didn't work there anymore.
September, '43.
Telegraph from the 39th district.
Three pages.
Alice Miller, age 22, reported missing by husband, Nelson, 11:20 in the evening.
He found two whiskey glasses on the kitchen table when he came home, but no Alice.
She was partying with someone? Henry Walker had liqour on his breath that night.
Drinking buddies.
Or more.
Problem is, Walker's dead, 1988.
Is anyone alive? Alice's husband.
In East Falls.
I never understood those whiskey glasses.
Alice and I were teatotallers.
You were out that evening? Seeing about getting my old job back.
Got home and don't I found those two glasses on the table.
What time was that? Oh, eight or so.
I got worried enough by 11 to notify the police.
You didn't know she had gone to the factory? She quit that place the day I got back from the war.
So you must have been surprised they found her there.
I've only been back a few days, I figured cross wires.
Maybe they got her to come back for one last shift.
She didn't like the job? Oh, she did.
But she was a curtains girl.
What's that? Saying was when it's curtains for the axis, it's lace curtains for her.
So when the war was done, back to the kitchen? I know it's out of fashion now but that's what Alice wanted.
I blame myself for sending her to work.
It was my idea.
Tomatoes do real well.
So do radishes.
It's so difficult preparing Nelson's meals.
We won't eat that variety meat.
Our boys need the fresh cuts more than we do.
Take a look, Nelson.
I planted our own victory garden.
Swell.
Alice.
Oh, no.
We knew this was coming.
What do I do? Write me every day, pray for victory.
It's his duty, Alice.
I know.
I know.
Look here, kitten.
Women wanted.
Important war work.
/ No.
No, I couldn't possibly.
A lot of girls are working for victory.
I'm too shy.
I'm not cut out for that kind of thing.
It'll help pass time, bring me home faster.
I'll take you to the factory Monday, introduce you to my boss.
Kitten, give it a try.
You might surprise yourself.
I shoulda listened to her.
She was too delicate for that kind of thing.
Ever meet Alice's boss, Henry Walker? No, never did.
Know any of her factory friends? Just our neighbor Dottie who got her the job.
Lives right over there.
I was Mr.
Walker's secretary.
Good man? He was a Christian man, but he was in a lot of pain.
He lost two sons to the war.
Is that why he drank? He wasn't a saint.
Think he and Alice coulda had a drink together before work that night? Heavens, no.
He was the boss, she was She was just a factory girl.
It's probably be done before.
More likely, it was one of her new friends.
What new friends? Alice has started to run with the fast crowd at Brill, and they were known to hit the sauce.
So was her boss.
Once again, Mr.
Walker and Alice were not friendly.
What was the problem? A secretary doesn't tell secrets.
Mr.
Walker's dead, Dottie.
You can't hurt him.
Well, Alice did come to me one day.
I say it's rotten we girls getting the lowest wages.
Why don't you write to Mrs.
Roosevelt about it? She likes to meddle into unpopular causes.
Excuse me, Dottie.
You should be on a poster with that perfect wave.
Am I intruding? I'll leave you girls.
Stay away from that one.
She's got a past.
So, how are you doing out on the floor? I've doubled my pace on the drill press.
Well, that's fine.
I've noticed something, Dottie, the last few weeks.
What's that? We're missing boxes of rivets.
Every third day, we're short one.
You must be counting wrong.
No, I'm sure of it.
I thought I'd tell Mr.
Walker.
I wouldn't.
Someone's stealing materials like that, it's awfully unpatriotic.
Alice, listen to me, now.
Don't mention it to Mr.
Walker.
It sounds like something the boss would want to know.
Unless he was the one lifting the boxes? Mr.
Walker wasn't a saint.
What can you remember from the night Alice died, Dottie? Big even tlike that probably stayed in your mind pretty good.
I do recall that Mr.
Walker disappeared for quite a while that night.
And that was unusual.
Were you there when he found Alice, the next day? No.
We worked the night shift that evening.
He shouldn't have been there in the morning.
My dad worked his tail off for Brill.
If he was there that morning, it's cuz he stayed all night doing the books.
He do that a lot? Pull all nighters? Whatever it took.
What about drinking on the job? Was that a regular thing? He was a drunk his whole life.
Died of liver failure.
How about Alice Miller? Heard she and your dad were getting along.
Look, fellars.
I was 17.
I was thinking about other things.
You remember accusing him of skimming supplies? You know about that? Yeah.
My older brothers died in the war.
Dad felt he was owed some payback.
That justified the pilfering? Alice shouldn't have brought that up to him.
So she did confront him with it.
Want to go to the show today? There's something new on.
Yeah, what? Think it's called Casablanca.
Take a girl your own age, someone from school.
Oh, they're all bunch of dumb klutz.
Inventory.
geared, and inspected.
Keep 'em coming.
Um, Mr.
Walker, can I have a moment? It's about the blind rivets.
Yes? They disappear with regularity, both the Cherry and Dupont.
I.
.
I know what you're doing.
What? That you're involved with side businesses.
You wanna be fired on the spot, Ms.
Miller? / No, I want something else.
I need help.
There's someone named Ivan.
Who's Ivan? Alice had secrets.
No guesses on what that all meant? All's I know is she thanked him for his help.
And said she hoped to heaven her husband didn't find out.
So, who's Ivan? Her boyfriend? What kind of help did Alice need? Whatever it was, she didn't want the husband knowing.
Sounds naughty.
Why would she go to the factory owner for help? He had access to something on the side.
Underground.
He still a suspect? Yeah, but his motive ain't clear.
Bank records always come through.
What have you got? Alice opened up her own account in May, 1943, made weekly deposits of 35 dollars.
Her factory salary.
Makes sense.
And it keeps making sense until July, '43, when 2000 bucks shows up.
How's a woman in 1943 get that kind of money? Like I said, naughty.
Your mind goes right to the gutter.
Who wants to bet me? I do.
Twenty bucks.
Going to court, boss.
Dana dug through her attic last night, got something for me.
Send her my regards.
Never heard of Ivan.
Me neither.
Where'd you hear the name? Just came up in the investigation.
Maybe part of her new crowd from the factory.
Nelson tells me Alice was a writer.
Yeah? Poems, short stories.
She was too shy to let anyone read them.
She always said everyone had at least one story that could stop your heart.
So you take after her.
I'll let you gals talk.
You know, if you pack your lunch, you wouldn't have to pay 6 dollars to eat.
Child of the Depression.
You're a frugal man.
Alice lived with the crash, too.
She understood.
A lesser woman might have minded it, not her.
Bye.
For years, people tried to set him up after Alice died, and he'd just say, I've had my wife.
So, what'd you find in the attic? Oh, her diaries.
These cover the early forties.
Maybe she wrote about Ivan.
Badminton with the gang.
That was a big sport with 43.
Took the Pennsy Railroad to visit her mother.
Amtrak hadn't made the scene yet.
Anyone find Henry Walker or Ivan? Looking.
Rations on beef means eggs or horsemeat for supper.
Horsemeat? Now that's a deal breaker.
Oh, pay dirt.
Ivan? Henry.
June, 12, 1943, Henry sent me to Smokies dance hall.
I'm looking for the owner, Richard.
Not here.
/ Oh.
Maybe I can help you.
I doubt it.
What do you want from Richard? Nylons? Liquor? Certainly not.
Black market's his specialty.
That's not what I'm after.
Old stag with soda, Bruno.
You drinking? I have to get home.
For what? Not the husband or kids.
Dr.
IQ on the radio? Maybe I will have a drink.
Two on the house.
Lonesome, ain't it? All the men overseas.
Can be.
They tell you at work to steer clear of me? Account of my checkered past? No details.
Just to keep your distance.
What did you do? They say I shot my husband.
And I did, too.
But I had a reason.
Did you kill him? Just blew up his shoulder.
He ran off after that.
So why did you come to Smokies, huh? I came because I believed what you said.
End of entry.
She believed what Fannie said when? Who's Fannie? One of the factory girls.
D'you think she really shot her husband? Better find out.
I'll go with ya.
I'd like to meet an 80-year-old who shot a guy.
Me and Alice, we started out kinda shaky, but then we got along.
We pulled an arrest record from 1940, Fannie.
Not my best year.
Seems you've shot your husband in a late night dispute? Not until he took a screwdriver to my head.
Yeah, that's in there, too.
You didn't have any reason to hurt Alice, did you? No, sir.
I loved that girl.
You two must have been an odd pair.
War time made for unusual companions.
All the men were away and you made friends where you could find them.
So you and Alice were friends with each other? Making B-25's together, it kinda bonds you.
Did you ever hear her talk about Ivan? Sure.
Who was he? Her cousin in Europe.
You see, her family was Jewish.
She hadn't heard from Ivan in months which worried her and I told her she had good reason to worry.
I met this seaman last night at Smokies.
You meet a seaman every night at Smokies.
Anyone bring stockings to donate? I did.
Penciling in your own seams looks just as nice as your nylons.
Matter of opinion.
Smoking now, are we? Just on breaks.
So this here sailor just came back from Europe.
He says there's real bad things happening over there.
Like what? Like there's these camps.
For Jews.
We're doing the same to the Japs.
Except these aren't just internment camps.
Then what are they? They're killing people there.
We'd be hearing it on Ed Murrow if that were true.
You sure they're doing that to Jews? Herding them up, taking them off to die.
I don't believe it.
Neither do I.
It seems crazy now, but most people didn't know the truth until the Liberation.
So Alice was trying to help Ivan.
Smokies' owner was a Portuguese fellar, Richard.
Had a contact in the consulate that could be helpful to her.
For a fee.
Said for 2000 dollars, he would smuggle Ivan into Lisbon.
The amount in the bank acount.
Oh so, she got the money? Any idea how? Well, no thanks to her husband.
So, Nelson did know Ivan? Oh sure, and Alice begged him to help, but he wouldn't budge.
Thought you didn't know who Ivan was, Nelson.
You forget he was your wife's cousin? No.
Then what? I wanna cooperate.
It's a funny way of showing it.
I brought these letters.
All the correspondents from the war.
Let's not lose focus.
Why did you lie about Ivan? Because I didn't believe her, I didn't think he was in danger.
This one's from Alice, June, '43, asking me for the money.
Telling you what she heard about the camps? I was in Europe.
I never heard such a thing.
I thought it was just gossip that she'd picked up at the factory.
And you're a frugal man.
So I wrote back, said no.
Few months later, Ivan was dead.
So how did you figure Alice came by that two K? I don't know how, but with these letters, you can tell when.
What do you mean? She wrote about him in every letter until July, 11th.
But she doesn't mention him again.
So the problem was solved by then? - Could we hang on to these? - Please.
I'm sorry I lied.
I just.
.
I've been so ashamed of this for 60 years.
Between the diaries and letters, we know Alice got that money July, 10th.
A month after she started trying to raise it.
Could be the month Ivan died.
So what happened that day, July, 10th.
She worked the day shift and then there was a swing for victory dance at Smokies.
Smokies again.
Figure something happened that night.
Someone she met there gave her the two K.
In exchange for what? Let's recreate that night, go back to Smokies and take Fannie and Martha with us.
Well, the place is still around.
An Italian restaurant now.
There you go.
Scotty found the old owner, Richard.
Retired in Merriam.
Well, between the three of them, maybe they can piece together Alice's night.
Let's take a field trip.
Oh.
Lordy, I spent a lot of hours in here.
Makes me feel twenty again.
You swing? - Excuse me? - She means dance.
Right, no.
I'm a two left feet guy.
For good time, girls.
Richard.
Francesca.
Martha.
I'm John Stillman.
And this is Lilly Rush.
How do you do? You remember our friend Alice Miller? A real swell girl palled around with us the summer of '43.
Sure.
There was one night in particular.
The swing for victory dance? Big business that night.
I worked the bar with Bruno.
Oh, and I met a real nice marine.
And Alice and I were dancing, collecting a quarter a song.
That makes three dollars even.
Martha.
Was that serviceman getting fresh with you? Yes, lucky thing you came by.
Oil us up, Richard.
What you drinking? Rum and coca-cola.
Saw you out there breaking hearts, Alice.
With that neckline who could overlook her? Is it too low? It's just not the Alice we met a few months ago.
I suppose it's just nice having some men our age around again.
They'll all be shipped off again soon.
Then it's back to us girls and gimps with bad teeth.
We are not all 4-F.
the rest of the night.
Why, Buddy.
Starting right now.
You gotta stop this.
You're selling your dances, I'm buying it.
You can't keep following me.
Behave yourself, Buddy.
Don't treat me like a kid.
You are a kid.
I'm old enough to go kill people, I'm old enough to be with you.
Lays it right out, don't he.
Let's go for a walk.
So, Henry's son was there? I've forgotten that.
And Alice left with him? Don't think I saw her the rest of the night.
The boy was pretty determined to get her alone.
Oh, Buddy had it bad for Alice.
And I've forgotten about that marine, too.
Oh look him up, maybe he'll get fresh with you again.
This Richard who owned the dance hall had a colorful career.
He was a horse bookie, graftman, and proprietor of house of assignation.
A house of what? That's polite for whore house.
I'm calling it a night, guys.
Crap, I gotta get home.
You wanna hit the Black Sheep, have a pint? Nah, I'm good.
You talking to Elisa at all? She's back in the hospital.
Oh, I didn't know, Scotty.
It's a circle game.
She's sick and better, and for a while you're hoping and then it starts again.
Yeah.
I just can't go round and round with her any more.
So I was sweet on Alice.
So what? Sweet can turn to sour on a dime.
And if it's so what, why not tell us that in our first conversation.
It's just a kid's crush.
a lot of money to throw down.
Where does a 17-year-old get a cash like that? / My dad.
Tell us what happened when you and Alice went walking after the dance.
What's it matter? That wasn't the night she died.
Then you don't mind telling us about it.
Oh, jiminy We didn't go walking.
We went driving.
How do you come by gasoline for this big old car in times like these? My dad has his ways.
Sorry, Alice.
Honest.
I lost my cool.
Okay.
So, why are you trying to make money? To help someone.
Who? It's complicated.
Never mind about it.
You and your secrets.
Well, I got a secret, too.
What's that? My dad has an account for me.
For when I go to college.
Yeah? Wants me to take it and run away.
Wait out the war.
He doesn't wanna lose a third son.
Yeah, but no amount of money's gonna make me run.
I want to serve.
Soon as I turn 18, do like my brothers did.
I want you to have the money.
I couldn't.
I know I'm just a kid to you.
Buddy, you're a swell kind of guy and you're gonna find a girl who's just right for you.
Will you wait for me? I can't.
I ain't scared of dying.
Don't say that.
But I am scared of going never having kissed you.
Well, here's the dirty shame.
You're at that window day and night, aren't you, Dottie.
I was simply walking Lady.
Weren't spying at all.
You should be ashamed of yourself, Buddy.
I'm not.
But you're a red-blooded youth, it's almost understandable.
Please, Dottie.
You have a good man overseas and he deserves better.
- Someone like you, you mean? - Maybe so.
I know you'd love that.
- Well, listen to the five cent tramp.
- Says the fussy old maid.
So you gave her the money.
That old maid comment must have hit below the belt.
Especially back then.
A girl who wasn't married was considered a real flop.
And I guess Dottie was pretty in love with Alice's husband.
That could make you wanna take a girl out.
Arrange for an accident.
We've been your letters, Dottie.
I don't know what you mean.
War time correspondence.
Dear Nelson, how empty the neighborhood feels with you gone.
He gave you that? I hear the radio reports every night and think of my brave soldier fight in the axis.
Now, why are you calling someone else's husband my soldier? Are you accusing me of having an affair with Nelson? No.
We ain't.
Boy, that Alice had all the luck.
Popular at work, more popular than you ever were.
I wasn't interested in that.
Painting town nights with the new girlfriends, going to the show, dancing.
Teenage boys falling for her right there on the street for all to see.
Why couldn't some stuff like that happen to you? Why were you an old maid and she was the girl of the hour? So you know about that night with Buddy? She had sweethearts to spare and you had none.
All you wanted was Nelson.
And factory accidents did happen.
Alice was changing, straying.
I felt Nelson should know.
So you wrote to him.
Real faithful.
Maybe he'd get the drift, you'd make the better wife? How did it go when he got back? You make a move? He came home wounded and it was plain as day that Alice didn't know how to be a good wife anymore.
Real nice you'd bring pie, Dottie.
Blueberry, too.
Nelson's favorite.
Kind of a welcome home.
Got any vanilla ice cream, Alice? Make it a la mode.
No, I don't.
I noticed the victory garden's dead.
I didn't keep it up.
House could use a dusting, too.
No pie for me, Dottie.
I'm off to the night shift.
I would think that now that Nelson's home, you'd be done at the factory.
Easy.
Oh heavens, I'm sorry.
Try this, dear.
Since when is there a whiskey in the house? I bought it for your pain.
Do you mean to say Alice that you are going to keep on at Brill even with Nelson home? Turns out I like it there.
Do you now.
It's nice feeling useful.
Do you know, Nelson, I helped build 14 B-25 Mitchells.
My.
Plus having my own paycheck.
I give you your allowance.
It just feels different when you earned it yourself.
Well, I work because I'm a single gal.
If I were married, I'd be more than content to just keep house, do the washing, bake pies.
I made some nice friends at the factory, too.
Yeah, I heard about your friends, in particular a young teenage friend.
I'll take this to Martha, it's her last shift tonight.
More pie? But he didn't go for it, huh? No.
I'm sure it's amusing to you young people, but to this day, I would jump for Nelson if he wanted me.
But he wanted Alice.
Even after she changed so.
Now, did he go the factory that night to set his wife flying straight again? You were real helpful giving us Mr.
Walker, Dottie.
Is that because you were protecting someone else? - Nelson is a good man.
- Come on now, Dot.
He ain't gonna choose you.
I saw him with Mr.
Walker that night.
Where? They went in to his office late, stayed about an hour.
You were pretty surprised to see Nelson there? Yes.
But? A secretary doesn't tell secrets.
Plus, all those feelings you had for him.
Nelson just wanted the wife that he had before he went away.
That war changed everybody.
So, news on Alice? I talked to Dottie.
Is that right? You knew Alice put those whiskey glasses out that night.
And that she went to the factory, cuz you went there, too.
Dottie said that? Was it the boy? Or that she didn't need allowance any more.
Didn't make you nice home-made pies? You learned a lot.
It's my job.
Well, you're good at it.
I've been reading Alice's diaries.
Told you she could write.
Did you know she was so terrified her first morning of work she got sick in the girls' room? No.
Almost left at lunch time but she felt her skills were so poor.
I didn't know that.
And she was so filthy at the end of that day that she got looks from the men on the bus who surely take a dim view of working girls in grubby slacks.
It wasn't easy for her making that change.
/ No.
But she was brave, and cleared the way for the people coming behind her.
I loved her.
Then honor her, tell the rest of her story.
I just went there to ask her to come home.
What's so terrible about that? Nothing.
The factory owner saw something, didn't he? How'd you keep him quiet? I gave him my war bonds.
I was only away six months, but it was like I didn't know the girl I came home to.
What are you doing here? We need to talk, kid.
You should be home, you're injured.
I'm sorry, kitten.
Okay.
Stop all this foolishness and get on to home.
I'm not off till six.
Forget this place.
I don't think I can.
I don't care about the boy, what Dottie told me.
I still wanna have a life with you, Nelson.
I do love you.
I love you, kitten.
It has to be a different kind of life now.
I changed.
We'll give it six months.
- You'll change back.
- No.
I couldn't bare to sit home, not making anything of the day, having no company.
Not now, knowing what I can do.
There's a whole rich life I can have besides being a wife.
It's enough now.
- It's that or it's nothing.
- Alice, you cut it out.
Nelson, let me go.
I'll let you go.
# Bing CrosbyÀÇ 'Don't Fence Me In' # # Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me ride through the wide open country that I love, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze, # # And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees, # # Send me off forever but I ask you please, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me ride through the wide open country that I love, # # Don't fence me in.
# # Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze, # # And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees, # # Send me off forever but I ask you please, # # Don't fence me in.
# # I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences # # And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses # # And I can't look at hovels and I can't stand fences # # Don't fence me in.
# # No.
# # Poppa, don't you fence me in #