[There is the sound of a door opening upstairs. SERGE whirls around. INGALLS slams his right hand, palm down, over the check on the table, as HASTINGS comes down the stairs]
HASTINGS: [Notices INGALLS' hand at once, says lightly:] I'm not interrupting anything, am I?
[SERGE stands by the table, doing a very bad job of disguising his anxiety. INGALLS is perfectly calm]
INGALLS: No. No.
HASTINGS: Imagine finding the two of you in a friendly tete-a-tete.
INGALLS: Oh, we were discussing going into vaudeville together. In a mind-reading act. We're very good at reading each other's mind. Though I think I'm better at it than Serge.
HASTINGS: [Looks at INGALLS' right hand on the table, imitating his tone] You have an interesting hand, Steve. Ever had your palm read?
INGALLS: No. I don't believe in palmistry.
HASTINGS: [Takes out a cigarette] Give me a light, Steve. [INGALLS reaches into his pocket, takes out his lighter, snaps it on, and offers it to HASTINGS — all with his left hand] Didn't know you were left-handed.
INGALLS: I'm not. I'm just versatile.
HASTINGS: Come on, Steve, how long are you going to play the fool? Lift that hand.
INGALLS: Well, Serge enjoyed it. [Lifts his hand as SERGE leaps toward it, but HASTINGS pushes SERGE aside and seizes the check]
HASTINGS: [Reading the check] "Pay to the order of Steven Ingalls..." Well, well, well.
Had I come down a minute later, you'd have been half-a-millionaire, Steve.
INGALLS: Yes. Why did you have to hurry?
SERGE: [Screams at the top of his voice, whirling upon INGALLS] You swine! You did it on purpose!
HASTINGS: [In mock astonishment] No?
SERGE: [To INGALLS] You lied! You betrayed me! You never intended to sell yourself! You're unprincipled and dishonest!
INGALLS: You shouldn't have trusted me like that.
[HELEN and TONY enter hurriedly at the top of the stairs]
HELEN: [Anxiously] What's going on here?
HASTINGS: Nothing much. Just Serge throwing five-hundred-thousand-dollar checks around.
[HELEN gasps. TONY follows her down the stairs]
SERGE: [Screaming defiantly to INGALLS and HASTINGS] Well? What are you going to do about it? You can't prove anything!
[FLEMING hurries in Right and stops short at the door]
HASTINGS: [Reproachfully] Now, Serge. We can prove that you're defrauding the Refugees' Committee out of fifteen bucks a week, for instance. And we can prove that I'm right about people who have no motive.
TONY: [Almost regretfully] Gee, I hoped it wouldn't be Serge. I hate having to be grateful to Serge for the rest of my life.
[ADRIENNE comes in from the garden, followed a little later by DIXON]
SERGE: What motive? What can you prove? That I tried to buy an invention from a murderer who needed the money — nothing else. It's just a simple commercial invention. Isn't it, Mr. Ingalls?
INGALLS: Yes.
HASTINGS: Goddamn it, we've got to find that newspaper!
SERGE: Now you understand, Mr. Hastings? Prove that I wasn't in Stamford! Prove it! I don't care whether you find that paper or not! Your own dear friends will have to swear they saw it!
HASTINGS: They don't know what edition it was.
SERGE: That's right! They don't know! Then how do they know it wasn't the last one? Prove that!
FLEMING: [Looking around the room, uselessly, frantically] We ought to tear this house down and find the lousy sheet! [TONY joins him in searching]
SERGE: Prove that I lied to you! Find a jury, even a dumb American jury, that will want to look at me, when they hear of this very heroic genius — [Points at INGALLS] — alone in the garden, leaving his fingerprints on the gun!
