In the Heat of the Night Page #4

- Did he confess?

- Huh?

The man you arrested, did he confess?

Well, I believe he will.

Yes siree, I believe he will.

I believe he will.

- He's left-handed, isn't he?

- How do I know?

Well, he seemed left-handed to me.

I believe Harvey is a southpaw.

Now, ain't he, Shagbag?

What if he is? What's that make him?

Innocent.

Mrs Colbert... There's just one more thing.

Yeah.

I picked it up, I tell you. He was already

lyin' there. It was lyin' there next to him!

I just picked it up, ma'am. That's all I did.

Shut up.

- Get him outta here.

- OK. C'mon, Harvey. Let's go.

Mrs Colbert, I, uh... I wonder if you'd mind

if I have somebody drive you over

so you could, uh...

complete the identification?

Martin, I want you to take

Mrs Colbert over to the funeral parlour.

And, Wood, run Virgil down the depot.

Uh... Virge here, Chief,

he thinks that Harvey's innocent.

- Well, I'll be damned.

- Could I talk to you about it, in private?

No. Because I got Colbert's wallet in my

hand, and we took it from Harvey Oberst.

- You think he gave it to him?

- I don't know.

But Oberst could have come along

after the crime, found it, picked it up.

- I don't know.

- That's what the boy said he did.

Well, I'm sorry, ma'am, but I say different.

When I examined the deceased,

it was obvious the fatal blow was struck

from an angle of

17 degrees from the right,

which makes it almost certain

the person who did it is right-handed.

- So what?

- (Shagbag) Harve's left-handed, Chief.

- Everybody in town knows that.

- We figured that out.

Harvey's a lefty. Uh-huh.

You're sure of yourself, Virgil. Funny

name for a n*gger boy from Philadelphia.

- What do they call you up there?

- They call me Mr Tibbs!

Mr Tibbs! Well, Mr Wood, take Mr Tibbs,

take him down to the depot.

And I mean, boy, like now!

I'll have the FBI lab

send you the report on this.

Not that it'll make any difference.

I'll take that.

No, you won't.

I'm sending it in personally.

(Mrs Colbert) My God!

What kind of people are you?

What kind of a place is this?

My husband is dead.

Somebody in this town killed him!

I want you to find out who!

You gonna give me that?

No, I'm not.

Wood, you take him,

and you lock him up

for withholding evidence.

Go on, move! Put him with

his friend, Harvey Oberst!

Well, Virgil, nobody threw your brains

to the hogs, that's for damn sure.

Hold on there, Arnold. Open her up again.

We got another customer.

(Harvey) Hey, man, not in here.

- Put him somewheres else!

- Don't push the panic button.

Play it cool, boy. Play it cool.

Hey!

- Hey!

- (door shuts)

What you doin'

wearin' white man's clothes?

Where d'you come from?

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