Alfred Hitchcock Presents s02e33 Episode Script

Good evening.
Good heavens.
He looks like a toothpick holder on an hors d'oeuvre table.
Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to practice some more.
So much for the sideshow.
Now, turn your attention to the center ring where you will find our main attraction.
My name is Hildegard.
Hildegard Fell.
I'm writing about my hometown, Essington, Massachusetts and especially about Mr.
Anderson.
Mr.
John Anderson.
I'm trying to be absolutely honest about everybody, including myself, and that's the hardest part of all.
My mother and father don't understand me.
No one does really.
My father is a minister, and it's not nice to criticize him, but I think he's just the teensiest bit too good-looking for a minister.
Now, my mother, she's not a bit too beautiful, she's just right.
Someday when my teeth grow back in, I'll probably look just like her.
I must say, whenever Hildegard is this quiet, it usually means the worst is about to happen.
Now, Richard, she's behaving beautifully.
She's probably just Just doing her homework.
Homework! She's probably writing a poison-pen letter.
Richard! You see what I mean? Nobody understands me.
But I mustn't get off the subject.
My story is really about this Mr.
John Anderson.
A stranger in our midst.
The only thing we knew about him was that he came from Boston.
I found that out by peeking in his mailbox.
He turned out to be the kindest man I ever knew.
Of course, it didn't start out that way.
It seems he wouldn't let the church bazaar committee use his garden for their annual affair.
That's when I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I thought, "How could he resist me?" Hi.
I knew I could make you look up again.
It's called thought transference.
What do you want? Oh, nothing special.
Well, go away! Thank you so much for asking me to come in.
I didn't, as I remember.
I'm sure you meant to.
I'm Hildegard Fell.
My father's the minister, but we're not a bit alike.
No, I'm quite sure of that.
Now, if you don't mind, run along.
I'm busy.
I guess you're not used to having visitors, are you? Well, at home whenever we have company, we always serve tea, or something.
Of course, personally, I prefer a lemonade.
All right.
With an olive.
Lots of ice, please.
Which shall I be, the white or the black? Now look here, you leave that chess board alone.
I'm right in the middle of a game.
Hmm.
Hmm.
I've been playing for years.
I suppose your father taught you? Oh, no.
I taught him.
But he isn't very good.
He doesn't concentrate very well, except when he's in the middle of a sermon.
Then he goes on and on and on.
If you would ever go to church on Sundays, you'd see for yourself.
You seem to know a lot about my activities, or lack of them, young lady.
Oh, I know everything about everybody in Essington, except you.
Are you married, Mr.
Anderson? Doesn't seem so, does it? Oh, that doesn't mean anything.
Your wife could have died or something.
What made you say that? Nothing.
I just think everybody ought to be married.
Thank you.
Of course, I'm not married yet, but I have someone picked out.
Oh, and who is the fortunate young man? His name is Clarence.
He works in a bank in Boston.
And since you come from Boston, I thought you must know him.
How do you know that I come from Boston? Well, there are a number of banks, and Boston is a big place.
I only see him when he comes to visit my best friend in the whole world.
Old Mrs.
Whiteford.
She's his aunt.
Do you know her? No, I can't say I've ever had that pleasure.
She's just about your age.
She isn't married either.
Oh.
Do you play chess with her? Oh, no.
We hold séances together.
She's taking a correspondence course on how to be a medium.
And what does your father, the good Reverend, have to say about that? Oh, he doesn't mind too much because he doesn't know about it.
And besides, it's only pretend! I'm about the only friend Mrs.
Whiteford has.
Well, she's very lucky to have a friend like you.
I could be your friend, too, if you'd like.
But I'd have to think about it first.
Oh, I wouldn't waste your time on me, Hildegard, if I were you.
I'm too old and weary to be rewarding.
Check! Well, Hildegard, I'm afraid the game is over.
Not yet.
Mate.
Good heavens! You've won.
I did.
Mr.
Anderson, would you please show all the people in town that you're not the mean, old selfish man they say you are.
I beg your pardon! Well, that's what everyone is saying just because you won't let the bazaar be held in your garden.
And it's been held in this place for the past 75 years.
So now they're sending children over to try and accomplish the work they couldn't do for themselves.
Well, I intend to remain the mean old man they say I am.
The answer is no! I won't have people prying into my private affairs! Now, you run along.
I never thought you'd be such a bad loser.
Well, my first attempt to win Mr.
Anderson wasn't very successful.
That's when I decided to discuss it with Mrs.
Whiteford.
Craddle-dee-cree.
Cree Cragged.
Crow No.
Oh, I've forgotten again.
I'll never make a go of it, Hildegard.
I'll never get through to my contact, Naomi.
Why can't I remember? You're just not concentrating.
Oh, but I am! But how will I ever get to be a full-fledged medium if I can't contact the spirit world? And Naomi will never get to know me.
Oh, dear.
Don't feel bad, Mrs.
Whiteford.
You'll get through to Naomi some day, and when she gets to know you, she'll love you just as much as I do.
Thank you.
Mrs.
Whiteford, since Clarence works in a bank it means he ought to know about everybody, doesn't it? Or at least he could find out.
Find out what, dear? About Mr.
Anderson! I wonder what he's hiding? If I could only make my contact with Naomi, I could ask her.
Here, you read the formula to me again.
I feel that Naomi is very near.
Craddle-dee-crow.
Crow.
Craddle-dee-crow.
Craddle-dee-crow.
Craddle-dee-crow.
Mrs.
Whiteford? Huh? Oh.
Oh, dear.
We were just starting our exercises.
Dear Clarence.
We're just going to have tea.
Well, hello, there, Hildegard.
Good evening, Clarence.
Well, what about a big hug? Not until we're engaged.
Oh, I see.
Blackmail, huh? Blackmail? What's that? That's a payment extorted by intimidation.
A very powerful weapon! I don't know what you mean.
Well, it means that I can't hug you until I agree to become engaged.
Now do you see? Well, will it work if I wanted something from someone else? Well, knowing you, it probably would.
Now, can we at least shake hands? Oh, come on.
Clarence, do you know a man by the name of John Anderson in Boston? John Anderson? Yes.
Why? What did he do to you? Nothing.
But do you know a man by that name? Well, there was a Judge Anderson that I knew about.
A Judge? Oh, dear.
This Judge Anderson was known for being a recluse.
Recluse? Here, here.
That's enough.
That means a hermit.
He was also known for some of the strictest decisions ever.
He retired a short while ago.
But I have no idea where he is now.
I'll bet I do.
He's right here in Essington.
The meanest, hardest-hearted hermit that ever lived.
Perhaps it wasn't the same man, Hildegard.
But it could be.
Well, then Essington should be proud of such a distinguished citizen.
He has sent more blood-thirsty murderers to their just rewards than any other man on the bench.
Oh, how exciting.
If he is the Judge, he certainly doesn't seem to want anyone to know about it.
He just sticks around that old house of his and won't let anyone come near him.
You don't like him very much, do you? He doesn't want anyone to like him.
But I think I do anyway.
There's something sort of sad about him.
Maybe he's hiding out, then.
Maybe some of the murderers he sentenced are still alive and out of prison by now.
They may be out to get him.
I doubt that, Hildegard.
Now, let's see, what were some of his most famous cases? There was the, uh The Cave murderer.
Oh, tell us about it.
I certainly will not.
You're much too young for that.
And let's see what else.
Oh, yes, there was a man by the name of Louton who murdered his wife.
He got all the way to Morocco before they caught up with him.
And, oh, yes, then there was the Cistern murder.
But I'll save telling that for some nice, stormy night, huh? I know who you are, Mr.
Anderson.
Or I think I do.
Oh? Who am I? Does the Cave murder or the Cistern murderer mean anything to you? Should they? How about Morocco? And Mr.
Louton? Who told you about this, Hildegard? A friend.
You're Judge John Anderson, aren't you? The man who sentenced all those criminals.
It had to come out some time, even in this small town.
Have you told anyone about this, Hildegard? Not yet.
But I should think you'd be glad to have people know how famous you are.
Think of all those bad people you've punished.
Being sent to the gallows or spending years in jail isn't very nice to think about, Hildegard.
But if they deserved it, it's right, isn't it? Only the good Lord can answer that, Hildegard.
He alone knows who the guilty really are.
Are you afraid one of those bad people you sentenced will come after you? Oh, I hardly think so.
I think they feel as I do, that their punishment was just.
Well, then, I have to go now.
I have to tell everyone in Essington who you are.
No, I don't want you to do that, Hildegard.
I know how hard it is for anyone to keep a secret, especially little girls.
But won't you do this for me? Okay.
But you'll have to do something for me.
Oh? What is that? If we can use your gardens for the bazaar, I won't let anyone in Essington know who you are.
Blackmail, hmm? Yes.
Don't you know that that is against the law? You'd have to tell them first.
But, Hildegard, please.
Think of all those people tramping around my garden, stepping on my grass, spoiling my roses.
I knew you'd say yes.
Let's shake.
You promise you won't mention my name? You can imagine how pleased I was with having won Mr.
Anderson over that way.
And I did mean to keep my promise.
Even though I did cross my fingers.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly till the day of the bazaar.
Then it started to rain.
And the Melrose Quartet, the star attraction, got an appendix.
Mother was terribly upset.
But then I fixed everything.
How do you do? Mr.
Anderson, what a lovely bazaar.
It was so sweet of you.
Won't you have some cake? You know, I made it myself.
Or some punch, Mr.
Anderson.
You're very kind.
You'll just love the punch.
Oh, Mr.
Anderson.
Mr.
Anderson? Reverend, isn't it wonderful? Yes.
Mr.
Anderson? I wanna thank you for your kind generosity.
The church is indebted to you.
Since it did rain, we could have held the bazaar at someone else's house.
Then why didn't you? Well, it was a little late to notify everyone about a change, and we did want to get to know you better, Mr.
Anderson.
Come on, Mrs.
Whiteford.
Come on, we have to tell them all about it.
Oh, look at the cakes.
Aren't they beautiful? Hi, Mrs.
Crow.
Hi, Hildegard, how sweet you look.
Mrs.
Whiteford.
Isn't this fun, Mr.
Anderson? Yes.
Daddy, guess what? Thank you.
I'd rather not.
Since the Melrose Quartet is incapacitated, Mrs.
Whiteford has volunteered to take their place.
Oh, how nice, Mrs.
Whiteford.
I didn't know you could sing.
Oh, dear, I can't.
She's not going to sing.
You go get ready.
I'll handle this myself.
Well, all right, dear.
How nice of you, dear.
What are you going to do? Richard, what do you think she's going to do? Daddy, how do you spell séance? Séance? Séance? Hildegard, don't you realize this is a church bazaar.
I can't sanction anything like that.
Oh, Daddy.
It's only pretend.
Everybody knows that except Mrs.
Whiteford.
It's absolutely out of the question.
Oh, Richard.
It's just for charity.
And besides, it may be lots of fun.
Come on.
Well, now this might make the whole thing worthwhile.
Séance.
Séance, hmm? S-E-A N-C-E.
S-E-A-N-C-E? Mmm-hmm.
Ten cents for a ticket.
Ten cents for a ticket.
All ready for the séance.
Daddy, when I tell you to, you turn out the lights, huh? Supposing I forget the formula? I won't let you forget the formula.
I'll stand right behind the screen and prompt you if you do.
Now go on.
Daddy, turn out the light, huh? Good evening.
Now, if you'll please put your hands before you on the table.
I must caution you, we must have absolute quiet.
Craddle-crow.
Craddle-cree.
Craddle-crow.
Naomi.
Naomi.
Naomi.
Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Crad-cree.
Naomi, please come out.
You know how much this means to me.
I'm here, what do you wish? Is that really you? Of course.
How remarkable.
How good to hear your voice.
Could you speak a little more clearly? You sound as though you had marbles in your mouth.
I'll try.
What do you want to know? Oh, dear, I don't know.
Is there anything you want to say? Is there anything you have to tell us? Help me, Naomi, please.
Forgive me, Mr.
Anderson.
I have to do this for Mrs.
Whiteford.
There is something else, something very important.
It's coming clearer, much clearer.
Yes, yes, what is it? It's about a newcomer to your town.
He calls himself Mr Mr.
John Anderson.
I can see him with a hammer in his hand.
Wait.
It's a wooden hammer, and I see him on a big high bench.
Yes, he's in black robes.
He's a judge.
A very famous judge.
Judge John Anderson.
A judge, a famous judge.
Ooh, isn't that exciting? Fancy him being right here in this town.
Is this true, sir? Judge Anderson.
I know it was a mean thing to do to tell on him that way.
But it was the best thing that could have happened.
Mr.
Anderson became a changed man.
He couldn't do enough for everybody.
Father was particularly delighted because Mr.
Anderson donated a stained glass window to his church.
And now comes the sad part of the story.
Mr.
Anderson died.
It was inevitable, they said.
But he was my first friend who did that, and it made me feel awful.
"He contributed much to his community.
"He was a man most respected.
" I'll get it.
"He was a man greatly respected.
" Oh, Clarence, come in.
Good afternoon, Reverend Fell.
Good afternoon, Mrs.
Fell.
Hello, Clarence.
Good to see you again.
Hi, Hildegard.
Hi, Clarence.
Nothing wrong with your aunt, I hope.
No, Aunt Aggie is fine.
But I I wonder if I could speak to you alone for a moment.
It's about Mr.
Anderson.
Of course, come into my study.
Excuse me.
Sit down, Clarence.
I was just going over my eulogy for Mr.
Anderson's funeral tomorrow.
We're all gonna miss him.
Especially Hildegard.
I know.
That's why I had to speak to you in confidence.
You see, sir It seems I made a mistake about Mr.
Anderson.
What do you mean, a mistake? Well, I found out today at the bank that Judge Anderson did retire, but he went to California.
The man here in Essington, who called himself John Anderson, was actually a fellow by the name of John Louton.
Louton? Yes, sir.
John Louton.
The man who strangled his wife.
I guess he thought it was a good joke to take the name of the man who sentenced him.
He spent 15 years in prison.
The whole town is going to be very upset.
Especially Hildegard.
I guess he made a fool of all of us.
I don't agree with you, Clarence.
But I suppose I will have to change the text of my sermon.
Now, let me see, there's something in the Book of Daniel, I think.
Oh, yes, chapter 10, 11th verse.
"A man greatly beloved, "understand the words that I say unto thee.
" As far as we're all concerned, that's all we have to remember.
And all we ever have to say.
And Mr.
Anderson was a man greatly beloved.
He did good things and never told on anyone even when they told on him.
He was the kindest man I ever knew, next to my father.
Thus ends tonight's story.
After seeing it, I think you'll treat your neighbor more kindly.
After all, he may be a former ax murderer.
Of course, there's nothing to worry about.
He's probably out of practice.
I hope you'll join us next time when we shall present another story of mystery andlor suspense.
Good night.