WHITFIELD: None.
STEVENS: You heard of nothing unusual, that day?
WHITFIELD: Not a thing.
STEVENS: For instance, you did not hear that he transferred ten million dollars to Buenos Aires?
WHITFIELD: I never heard of it.
[There is a scream, a terrifying cry, as of one mortally wounded. JUNGQUIST stands clutching his head, moaning wildly]
JUNGQUIST: I killed him! I killed Bjorn Faulkner, God help me! I helped that man to kill him!
[He points at JUNGQUIST, leaps to the clerk's desk, seizes the Bible and, raising it frantically over his head in a shaking hand, cries as if taking a solemn, hysterical oath]
The whole truth, so help me God! . . . I didn't know! But I see it now!
[He points at WHITFIELD]
He killed Faulkner! Because he lied! He knew about the ten million dollars! I told him!
[STEVENS rushes to him]
FLINT: Now, look here, my man, you can't --
STEVENS:[Hurriedly]That's all, Mr. Whitfield.
FLINT: No questions.
[WHITFIELD leaves the stand]
STEVENS: Kindly take the stand, Mr. Jungquist.
[JUNGQUIST obeys]
You told Mr. Whitfield about that transfer?
JUNGQUIST: [Hysterically] He asked me many times about the ten million -- where it was spent. I did not know it was a secret. That day -- I told him -- about Buenos Aires. That day -- at noon -- January sixteenth!
WHITFIELD: What kind of a frame-up is this?
STEVENS: You told Whitfield? At noon?
JUNGQUIST: I did, God have pity on me! I didn't know! I would give my life for Herr Faulkner! And I helped to kill him!
STEVENS: That's all.
FLINT: Were you alone with Mr. Whitfield when you told him?
JUNGQUIST: [Astonished] Yes.
FLINT: Then it's your word against Mr. Whitfield's?
JUNGQUIST: [Stunned by the sudden thought, feebly] Yes . . .
FLINT: That's all.
[JUNGQUIST leaves the stand]
STEVENS: The defense rests.
JUDGE HEATH: Any other witnesses?
FLINT: No, your Honor.
JUDGE HEATH: The defense may proceed with the closing argument.
STEVENS: Your Honor! Ladies and gentlemen of the jury! You are here to decide the fate of a woman. But much more than one woman is here on trial. Before you pronounce your verdict on Karen Andre, think of your verdict on Bjorn Faulkner. Do you believe that he was the kind of man who would bow, renounce and repent? If you do -- she's guilty. But if you believe that in this sad, halfhearted world of ours a man can still be born with life singing in his veins; a scoundrel, a swindler, a criminal, call him anything, but still a conqueror -- if you value a strength that is its own motor, an audacity that is its own law, a spirit that is its own vindication -- if you are able to admire a man who, no matter what mistakes he may have made in form, had never betrayed his essence: his self-esteem -- if, deep in your hearts, you've felt a longing for greatness and for a sense of life beyond the lives around you, if you have known a hunger which gray timidity can't satisfy -- you'll understand Bjorn Faulkner. If you do -- you'll understand the woman who was his priestess . . . Who is on trial in this case? Karen Andre? No! It's you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, who are here on trial. It is your own souls that will be brought to light when your decision is rendered!
JUDGE HEATH: The District Attorney may now conclude the case.
FLINT: Your Honor! Ladies and gentlemen of the jury! For once, I agree with the defense counsel. Two different types of humanity are opposed in this case -- and your verdict will have to depend on which side you choose to believe. You are asked -- by the defense -- to take the side of a swindler, a harlot and a gangster against a man who is a model of social respectability and a woman who is everything the ideal of pure womanhood has been for centuries. On one side, you see a life of service, duty and unselfishness; on the other -- a steamroller of sensual indulgence and egoistic ambition. I agree with the defense counsel that the judgment on this case will be passed deep within your own souls. If you believe that man is placed on earth for a purpose higher than his own enjoyment -- if you believe that love is not all in the bedroom, but also in your parlor, in your kitchen, in your nursery -- if you believe that the cozy fireside of a home is still the most sacred ideal a man can aspire to -- you will believe that simple virtue is more powerful than arrogance and that a man like Bjorn Faulkner would be brought to bow before it. Let your verdict tell us that none shall raise his head too high in defiance of our common standards!
JUDGE HEATH: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the Bailiff will now escort you to the jury room. I shall ask you to consider your verdict carefully. You are to determine whether Karen Andre is guilty or not guilty of the murder of Bjorn Faulkner.
[The BAILIFF escorts the JURY out of the courtroom. Then the stage is blacked out. Then, one by one, a spotlight picks out of the darkness the different WITNESSES, repeat the most significant lines of their testimony -- a quick succession of contradicting statements, presenting both sides of the case, reviewing the case for the audience, giving it swift flashes of what the jury is considering. The pin spot illuminates only the faces of the witnesses, one after the other, in the following order]
DR. KIRKLAND: I was called to examine the body of Bjorn Faulkner. I found a body mangled to an extreme degree.
HUTCHINS: Well, he was a bit tight. He wasn't very steady on his feet. Mr. Faulkner and the other gentleman had to help him. They almost dragged him into the elevator.
VAN FLEET: She is hoisting a man's body up on the parapet. A man in evening clothes. Faulkner. He's unconscious. No resistance. She pushes him with all her strength. He goes over the parapet. Down. Into space.
SWEENEY: [Reading] "I found only two enjoyable things on this earth whose every door was open to me: my whip over the world and Karen Andre."
MAGDA: He had a platinum gown made for her . . . She wore it on her naked body . . . And if it burned her shameless skin, she laughed like the pagan she is, and he kissed the burn, wild like tiger!
NANCY LEE: We were planning to have a modest little home, with a bright kitchen and a little flower garden. We'd be so happy there, just the two of us, until . . . until we had little ones to take care of . . .
WHITFIELD: I had full confidence that my business acumen would have prevented the crash -- had Faulkner lived.
CHANDLER: It is not probable that the letter was forged; but it is possible.
JUNGQUIST: Herr Faulkner shrugged and said lightly: "Oh, commit suicide." Herr Whitfield looked at him and said, very slowly: "If you do, be sure you make a good job of it!"
KAREN: Bjorn Faulkner never thought of things as right or wrong. To him it was only: you can or you can't. He always could. To me it was only: he wants or he doesn't.
REGAN: But do you think we're both so low that if something passes us to which one kneels, we no longer have eyes to see it? I loved her; she loved Faulkner. That's our only proof.
[After the last flash, the stage remains dark for a few seconds. Then the lights come on and the JURY returns into the courtroom]
BAILIFF: Attention of the Court!
CLERK: The prisoner will rise and face the jury.
[KAREN rises, head high]
The jury will rise and face the prisoner. Mr. Foreman, have you reached a verdict?
FOREMAN: We have.
CLERK: What say you?
Ending Of Play If Verdict Is "NOT GUILTY":
FOREMAN: Not guilty!
[KAREN receives the verdict calmly. She raises her head a little higher and says slowly, solemnly]