Becker House Detective - Single Green Feather

Summary

Becker House Detective - "Single Green Feather"

Podcast: Harold's Old Time Radio
Host: Harolds Old Time Radio
Date: March 14, 2026

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Episode Overview

This episode features a classic radio drama titled "Single Green Feather," starring Becker, the house detective at the Queen of the Rockies Hotel. Blending post-frontier mystery, natural history, and interpersonal tension, the story follows Becker as he investigates the suspicious death of big-game hunter Arthur Bryson. The case revolves around a rare green feather, a mysterious bird, and the motivations of hunters, scientists, and nature enthusiasts. The story is a window into the moral ambiguities and passions of individuals living on the edge of wilderness and civilization in the golden age of radio drama.

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Key Discussion Points & Plot Development

1. Discovery and First Clues

[00:49–04:25]

• Becker and Francois hear a strange bird as they walk—"The sound of civilization."
• They find Bryson, a well-known hunter, dead below a ledge. There's no bullet wound, but a mysterious green feather is in his hat.
• Conversation suggests the feather could be a clue:

  "We just heard a bird we've never heard before. And now we have a feather we've never seen before." — Becker [02:41]

2. Early Investigation and Key Characters

[04:25–08:44]

• Becker speaks with Bryson’s business partner, Sturgis, who confirms hearing a gunshot but is unsure of events.
• Becker finds six unusual holes on the ledge; hints they may hold significance.
• Consults Whiskey Dan O'Malley, a seasoned guide, who is unable to identify the feather but refers Becker to Dr. Chester Morrison, an expert on rare and undiscovered birds.
• Mr. Hickey, the hotel manager, warns about involving Dr. Morrison, underscoring the latter's reputation.
• Detective work commences:

  "You treat that old man like fine china. I've guided for a lot of men, and he's one of the few this side of the grave I respect." — Whiskey Dan O’Malley [06:26]

3. Dr. Morrison’s Suite and Family Tensions

[09:34–13:28]

• Becker visits Dr. Morrison and his daughter, Robin. Morrison is a reclusive, passionate bird photographer who refuses to help hunters.
• The father-daughter dynamic is contentious:

  "Bad poetry is no substitute for precise science." — Robin Morrison [11:48]
  "We're opening people's eyes to the beauty of the world. And that's more than enough." — Dr. Chester Morrison [11:51]

• Becker unsuccessfully seeks an ID for the feather but learns about Morrison’s aversion to contributing to hunters’ pursuits.

4. Unraveling Bryson's Motives & Hotel Archives

[13:28–14:18]

• Hotel records indicate Bryson’s visits coincide with Dr. Morrison’s, suggesting Bryson was shadowing Morrison for rare specimens.
• Becker feels frustrated: "You can't press too hard... He was a tough old bird who wasn't about to sing." [13:33]

5. Observations and Theories

[14:18–16:04]

• Becker enlists Jimmy, the observant bellhop, for surveillance.
• Francois provides more insight: Bryson did have a game bag, contradicting earlier statements.
• Becker posits that the tripod’s spiked legs may have made the holes on the ledge—a lead in the reconstruction.

6. Physical Evidence—The Bird

[16:07–17:23]

• Becker discovers and retrieves Bryson’s hidden game bag containing the corpse of a rare, emerald-green bird.
• The narrative laments the bird’s death as a tragedy beyond the murder itself.

7. Confronting Sturgis and the Morrisons

[17:23–23:32]

• Sturgis discusses Bryson’s collecting habits and possible intentions to exhibit his finds, which might have exposed Robin Morrison’s help.
• At the Morrisons’, Becker confronts Robin, deduces she supplied Bryson with bird locations, and implies her scientific ambitions motivated this secret collaboration.
• The tense admission sequence reveals:

  "Because you're a scientist, Ms. Morrison..." — Becker [21:19]
  "Robin, tell him this is impossible." — Dr. Morrison [21:16]
  "They're specimens. I had to have them." — Robin Morrison [23:14]

8. The Truth Unfolds: The Day on the Ledge

[23:32–25:31]

• Robin explains: she was finishing her father’s photography work when Bryson took the rare bird, provoking her to intervene. In the struggle, Bryson fell. Robin hid the evidence.
• She expresses more sorrow for the bird than for Bryson:

  "You know, Becker, when I think of that bird and my father here and Arthur Bryson falling off the ledge—Bryson is the thing I feel least concerned about." — Dr. Robin Morrison [25:23]

9. Aftermath and Reflection

[25:31–end]

• Robin Morrison confesses to her role in Bryson’s death. Her father retires from fieldwork, disillusioned. Only Becker and Whiskey Dan seem to remember the incident.
• The drama closes with Becker haunted by the elusive song of the green bird—an emblem of loss and unresolved longing.

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Notable Quotes & Moments

• Echo of Civilization and Wilderness:

  "There was a time before they built the hotel when a gunshot was a rare occurrence around here... Once they do that, it’s my responsibility. I'm Becker, the house detective." — Becker [01:03]

• On Science vs. Romanticism:

  "Bad poetry is no substitute for precise science." — Dr. Robin Morrison [11:48]
  "We're opening people's eyes to the beauty of the world. And that's more than enough." — Dr. Chester Morrison [11:51]

• The Nature of Evidence:

  "Sometimes I think you fasten on a detail to prevent the shivers." — Becker [04:25]

• The Tragedy of the Bird:

  "It had been so beautiful. And it was so dead." — Becker [17:21]

• The Coldness of Science:

  "How can you be so cold, so hard, so scientific. Yes, so scientific." — Dr. Chester Morrison [23:17]

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Important Timestamps & Segments

• The mysterious death and discovery – [00:49–04:25]
• Interview with Dr. Morrison – [09:34–13:28]
• Archive revelation about Bryson and Morrison – [13:28–14:18]
• Game bag and rare bird found – [16:07–17:23]
• Confrontation and confession – [19:00–25:31]

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Summary in Tone

The episode is heavy with atmosphere and shadowed intrigue, capturing a sense of melancholy over natural loss and human ambition. The dialogue reflects a 1930s/40s radio play’s brisk, wry, and highly verbal style, balancing dry detective wit with scientific passion and personal regret. In the end, the loss of the green-feathered bird becomes a metaphor for what’s truly at stake—not just the solving of a murder, but the preservation of something wild and irreplaceable.

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For more vintage radio mysteries and golden age drama, visit Harold’s Old Time Radio.

Transcript

[A]

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[B]

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[A]

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[B]

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[A]

by Granger for the ones who get it done. Listen, Francois.

[C]

What?

[A]

The bird. You can just hear it.

[C]

What a sound.

[A]

The sound of civilization.

[C]

Perhaps you are a bit too serious, my friend.

[A]

Perhaps I was too serious. But there was a time before they built the hotel when a gunshot was a rare occurrence around here. Now, the Queen of the Rockies offers a variety of game unmatched on the continent. And the hunters are encouraged to blast away at everything from grouse to grizzlies. As long they don't break the windows, that is. Or bring down the guests. Once they do that, it's my responsibility. I'm Becker, the house detective. There it is again.

[C]

C' est dre baille dre de man.

[A]

I've never heard anything like it. Well, let's go.

[C]

Is it much further?

[A]

You're not getting tired already? No, no.

[C]

It's a beautiful walk. It is also a perfect day for fishing.

[A]

Ah, Becker.

[C]

That is the music to die to.

[A]

Watch out. Where'd he.

[C]

He's.

[A]

He must be about 60ft up to that ledge. You think that that's the only possible place? Unless he was sitting in a tree.

[C]

This is not funny, Becker. Someone has shot this man.

[A]

Well, let's have a look.

[C]

Oh, bon Dieu. See, Monsieur. Brison. Brison Bryson. He is a big hunter. We have often prepared his birds cannot see.

[A]

He wasn't shot, but we heard no bullet wounds. What do you make of this?

[C]

The hat.

[A]

This feather in his hat band.

[C]

A green feather.

[A]

Doesn't come from any bird I've ever seen.

[C]

You think it is a clue? Who knows?

[A]

We just heard a bird we've never heard before. And now we have a feather we've never seen before. You better get some help.

[C]

Me?

[A]

The fishing will have to wait.

[C]

Wait. Where are you going? Up there alone.

[A]

I'll see you back at the hotel. Francois was right. It was a perfect day. Hot and dry, not a cloud in the sky. Perfect for fishing, lousy for tracking. The ground was too dry to hold an impression. The trail itself rose steeply until suddenly it widened out into a table overlooking the tops of the trees growing below. It would have Been a spectacular view. If it wasn't for the man in front of me leaning out over the edge. Looking for something? Who are you? Becker. House detective at the hotel.

[C]

Oh, I'm. I'm Sturgis. Jay Sturgis. I'm looking for my partner, Arthur Bryson. I heard a shot.

[A]

You think your friend was shot?

[C]

I don't know what to think. We were camping up the trail.

[A]

Have you ever seen this before?

[C]

What? That feather.

[A]

You know where it came from?

[C]

Didn't you hear me? I said I heard a shot. Don't you think we should be looking?

[A]

No need. What do you mean? You see how the branches are broken on that pine? That one there, about six feet out?

[C]

Yes.

[A]

That's where your friend's body hit on his way down. My God. Down there. Someone pushed him very hard.

[C]

But I heard a shot.

[A]

So did I, but he wasn't hit.

[C]

Are you certain?

[A]

Yep. What do you make of this?

[C]

Those holes.

[A]

Six of them.

[C]

What's that got to do with anything? Arthur's dead, Mr. Becker.

[A]

What's anything got to do with anything? I don't know. Sometimes I think you fasten on a detail to prevent the shivers. I was guessing that feather meant a lot to Arthur Bryson. And it might tell me why he was on that ledge. And why he ended up 60ft below it. If I could get it to talk. Well, I knew one man who just might speak its language. Whiskey. Dan o'? Malley.

[B]

Who's there?

[C]

For God's sake.

[A]

Becker.

[C]

Becker? Becker. I might have known. Who else would wake a man so early? What time is it? No, don't tell me.

[A]

Sit down.

[C]

Sit down. It's good to see you.

[A]

It's good to see you too, Dan. I was afraid you'd be out on the trail.

[C]

Influenza. I don't suppose your body draft is something medicinal with you?

[A]

I've been dry for over a year.

[C]

You're a disgusting Becker. I wonder.

[A]

You can bare yourself mordants next time. I'll consider that a promise.

[C]

Now, what did you say you wanted?

[A]

I want you to look at this.

[C]

A feather. Oh, this is a beauty. Where'd you find it?

[A]

In a hat band.

[C]

Whose hat band?

[A]

Well, it doesn't matter, Dan. He's dead. Arthur Bryson. How do you know?

[C]

Word gets around fast, Becker. Besides, I've got a small interest in Mr. Arthur Bryson. He wanted me to find him a bird. Tells me I'm the first guide he's ever approached.

[A]

And I says I'm flattered, but I'm

[C]

not about to help you with that.

[A]

It turned him down.

[C]

If a bird's so rare I haven't seen it, it's definitely too rare to kill.

[A]

So you can't identify this feather?

[C]

Afraid not. Damn. Don't give up so easily, Becker. There's one man staying in the hotel knows almost as much as me. His name's Morrison. Dr. Chester Morrison.

[A]

All right, thanks, Dan.

[C]

But, Becker, you treat that old man like fine china. I've guided for a lot of men, and he's one of the few this

[A]

side of the grave I respect. Hmm.

[C]

What are you doing, Becker?

[A]

You don't happen to know the number of Dr. Morrison's suite, do you?

[C]

Are you detecting again, Becker?

[A]

I need him to identify a bird. A bird you are hired to protect, Becker, not detect. I know.

[C]

And you should also know to think twice before you intrude on a guest as distinguished as Dr. Chester Morrison.

[A]

Just how distinguished is that, Mr. Hickey?

[C]

Dr. Morrison is one of the world's noted experts on undiscovered avian species. I have clippings on him that go back to my first days as manager of this hotel.

[A]

You keep scrapbooks, Mr. Hickley?

[C]

Archives.

[A]

Becker, do you have anything on an Arthur Bryson?

[C]

You're not planning to involve Dr. Morrison?

[A]

I could pass my questions on to Sergeant Drake. Drake? The police, if you won't let me.

[C]

Dr. Morrison is in 618, but if I hear so much as a word of complaint.

[A]

Well, maybe you could check your scrapbooks for Mr. Bryson. Who knows? You just might find something.

[C]

I doubt that.

[A]

Well, you never know.

[C]

Well, I'll have a look if I get a moment.

[A]

We might even pack this up before the sergeant arrives.

[C]

Becker over. Optimistic as usual.

[A]

Becker.

[C]

Morning, Mr. Hickey. Sergeant Drake. I've come to steal your watchdog.

[A]

Got something to show you, Becker. At the scene of the crime, Mr. Hickey?

[C]

Go ahead. Go ahead. But, Becker. Discretion, please. That's a bit of a climb.

[A]

Good for you. So, what do you got over here? What do you think? Very handsome rifle. Where'd you find it? Hooked in the branches, one of those

[C]

pine trees down there.

[A]

He must have fallen with it.

[C]

Or someone threw it after him.

[A]

So he might have fired the shot. I heard himself. What do you make of these holes?

[C]

Hiking pole, maybe?

[A]

You think?

[C]

What about this Sturgis?

[A]

Yeah, maybe you should check him out.

[C]

What's up, Becker?

[A]

I've got an idea I want to check out.

[C]

I'll see you back at the hotel.

[A]

And, Becker, watch your back.

[B]

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[A]

Half an hour later, I was invited into Dr. Chester Morrison's suite by an anxious woman in her early 40s. She asked me to wait in the living room while she went to rouse her father. Obviously, she mistook me for someone else. However, I wasn't about to say anything, particularly as she left me staring at a corner full of cameras and a heavy tripod with a spike on the end of each of its three legs.

[D]

Are you a photographer? Doct.

[A]

Not photographer. Nor a doctor. Ms. Morrison.

[D]

I beg your pardon?

[A]

Name's Becker, Hotel detective. I was hoping I might have a few minutes with your father.

[D]

Father is expecting the doctor.

[A]

Oh, nothing serious, I hope.

[D]

He sprained his ankle a few days ago. He's really too old to be carrying around heavy equipment like that.

[A]

Tripod, you mean?

[D]

That's just the start of it. My father is a field photographer, Mr. Becker.

[A]

Oh, I was told he was a scientist.

[D]

Strictly speaking, my father takes pictures of birds. Would you like to see some of his work while you're waiting?

[A]

I'd be fascinated.

[D]

This is his last book.

[A]

Oh, these are wonderful. How did he get so close?

[D]

Patience, mostly.

[C]

Extraordinary.

[A]

Are they identified in another volume?

[D]

Very observant, Mr. Becker. The birds are in fact unidentified.

[A]

Because?

[C]

Because I am engaged in a perpetual war with the hunters, sir, and I have no intention of providing them with any more targets.

[D]

Sit down, father. I'm sure Mr. Becker's not interested.

[C]

You may have noticed that this pains my daughter. She's an ornithologist, a scientist. And scientists are not convinced by people who refuse to provide proper documentation.

[D]

I only want you to get the respect you deserve.

[C]

I don't need the respect of a bunch of puffed up academics who think me a romantic old fool.

[D]

There's a bit more to science than that, Mr. Becker.

[A]

Oh, yes.

[D]

The birds in the book you're holding are legitimate objects of study. I have years of observation. Habitats, life cycles, mating rituals.

[C]

Irrelevant. Irrelevant? Irrelevant. A means of providing sinecures to mediocrities who've never listened to a bird sing, never seen its bright eye sparkling in the shadows or its feathers gleaming in the morning light.

[D]

Bad poetry is no substitute for precise science.

[C]

The truth is, Robin, we're opening people's eyes to the beauty of the world. And that's more than enough. Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Becker?

[A]

I have a bird feather here. I was hoping you might be able to identify it.

[C]

You understand that it's something of a feat to reconstruct a whole bird from a single feather? A rare green, isn't it?

[D]

If you ask my opinion, I'm afraid

[C]

I can't help you. And frankly, I wouldn't if I could.

[A]

Not even to solve a murder.

[C]

Whose murder?

[A]

A Mr. Bryson.

[C]

Arthur Bryson.

[A]

You knew him?

[C]

No. But I heard he had an impressive collection of stuffed birds. If you find his murderer, give him my heartiest congratulations, father.

[D]

That'll be Dr. Cobb.

[C]

Well, let him in, Robin, and let Mr. Becker out when you do.

[A]

So, Becker, what have you got? Not much yet, but. Well, you can quit looking.

[C]

Sturgis inherits the whole business.

[A]

What business? Bryson and Sturgis Brokerage. Sounds good, Neil. It's a sure thing. I think this is what we're looking for. Scrapbooks.

[C]

My personal archives. Sergeant Drake, I have here a newspaper dated September 14, 1920. It reports on a spot given by Dr. Morrison to the Arts and Letters Club of Toronto in which he denounces hunters.

[A]

Well, he hasn't changed his tune.

[C]

But particularly those hunters who have taken to following him around in hopes of bagging an unknown species.

[A]

Bryson.

[C]

It's just what I thought, Becker. So I checked the hotel records and I found that Mr. Arthur Bryson's residency coincides with Dr. Morrison's on three out of four occasions.

[A]

So Bryson was following this Morrison around. And Morrison knew it. Looks like the odds are changing, Neil. There's a real frustration in being a hotel detective. You can't press too hard. I mean, I couldn't run back to Dr. Morrison, grab him by the throat and demand the whole truth. It wouldn't have worked on him anyway. He was a tough old bird who wasn't about to sing. Well, perhaps he was just protecting his father flock. But then maybe he had something else to protect. It was time to seek some help from my friend Jimmy. Jimmy's got a Knack for keeping an eye out. And being a four foot tall bellhop, he's very rarely noticed.

[C]

It's ten o' clock at night, Becker,

[A]

and you're doing something important.

[C]

I suppose I'm halfway through the beautiful and damp.

[A]

Sounds steamy.

[C]

Scott Fitzgerald. He should give him a try.

[A]

All you gotta do is keep an eye on the old man.

[C]

I only follow him to the doors, Becker. I don't do so well outside.

[A]

Well, in this case you're not likely to have a problem seeing as how he sprained his ankle. So? So if he is walking, leave a message with Francois. Thanks, Jimmy.

[C]

Hold on, Becker. There's a little matter of my fee in advance. The Americans, my friend, they are so proud of their simplicity but they demand such impossible dishes.

[A]

What is it?

[C]

Poulet a la Betsy Ross. A terrible thing to do to a chicken.

[A]

It's a bad time to be a bird.

[C]

You're still carrying that feather?

[A]

Yep. Nobody, including Chester Morrison, can identify it.

[C]

Dr. Morrison?

[A]

He's a photographer of birds. Unknown birds. It's possible that Bryson was following Morrison around like a hyena.

[C]

Do you think this Dr. Morrison.

[A]

I don't know, he's a very old man. But there were six holes on the ledge that Bryson fell from.

[C]

Holes?

[A]

They looked random but if you joined them together you could make two overlapping triangles and each of those triangles might match up with the holes left by the spikes on the legs of a tripod.

[C]

A tripod?

[A]

Yeah. There's a tripod with spiked legs leaning against the wall in Morrison's suite.

[C]

Ah.

[A]

And that tripod could have been on the ledge. Morrison could have been photographing a bird. And that would explain why Bryson was there as well.

[C]

For the bird.

[A]

Now all I gotta do is find it.

[C]

Perhaps it flew away.

[A]

Well, Bryson was a collector. He wouldn't put a feather in his hat till it belonged there.

[C]

You looked in his game bag.

[A]

He didn't have one.

[C]

Yes. Yes he did. He used to bring in birds for the table.

[A]

So where is it? Early next morning I returned to the ledge and began working my way slowly up the mountain towards the meadow where Sturgis and Bryson had camped. It was midday before I came to a small cave where the ground had been disturbed and some rocks had been piled up against the wall to form a kind of cairn. I began pulling the rocks away one by one, carefully, as if I were opening a tomb. The back of my neck began to tingle. Then the game bag appeared, wedged into a hollow at the base of the wall like a small coffin. I pulled it out, took a deep breath and opened the lid. Inside lay the corpse of a tiny bird, not 4 inches long. Its head was bent at an angle it could never have achieved in life. Its emerald green feathers were already losing their luster. It had been so beautiful. And it was so dead.

[C]

I wondered when I'd see you again, Mr. Becker. Drink?

[A]

You recognize this bag, Mr. Sturgis? I found it hidden off the trail just below your campsite. Do you know what was in it?

[C]

Let me guess.

[A]

A very rare bird.

[C]

He had quite a collection.

[A]

Really? And how did Arthur build his collection? He was a guy. Nothing I know of.

[C]

He just seemed to have an instinct.

[A]

He wasn't following Dr. Morrison around.

[C]

Morrison?

[A]

You mean the Birdman?

[C]

You know him? Arthur had some of his books. I think he regarded them as a personal challenge. He did have a lot of the birds Morrison found.

[A]

So he might have been. I really don't think so.

[C]

Arthur was planning to exhibit his collection in the autumn.

[A]

You wouldn't do that if they weren't yours, would you? An exhibition.

[C]

The Bryson Collection. Undiscovered treasures from four continents. It will cause quite a stir among the hunters.

[A]

Not to mention the scientists.

[C]

I suppose so. I don't know much about scientists.

[A]

Neither did Arthur.

[C]

What do you mean?

[A]

I think he underestimated them. Fatally.

[C]

Hey, Becker. Hey, Becker.

[A]

Jimmy.

[D]

Yeah?

[C]

You forgot about me, you big palooka.

[A]

Jimmy, have you been watching?

[C]

22 hours you owe me. And I thought I was watching an old man. Becker.

[A]

So?

[C]

I get paid more for dames. Becker.

[A]

Where'd she go, Jimmy?

[C]

Straight to the door.

[A]

Damn. Thanks, Jimmy. I owe you.

[C]

You don't want to know where she went?

[A]

I thought you didn't go out.

[C]

I got friends, Becker. I got friends. And you're gonna owe them a lot.

[D]

It's not convenient right now, Mr. Becker.

[C]

Let him in, Robin. You'll convince him we have something to hide.

[A]

I know you have something to hide, Dr. Morrison.

[C]

Just what does that mean, Mr. Becker?

[A]

What were you doing on the ledge today, Ms. Morrison?

[D]

What ledge?

[A]

The ledge Arthur Bryson fell from.

[D]

What are you talking about?

[A]

Did you notice the holes? There are holes in the ground up there, Ms. Morrison. Holes that were made by a large tripod. That one, perhaps.

[C]

I'm afraid I haven't been quite honest with you, Mr. Becker.

[D]

We don't have to tell him anything.

[C]

I'm an old man, Robin. I don't want to live the rest of my life under suspicion. It wasn't my daughter who made the holes, Mr. Becker. Father, I was on that ledge the Day before the accident, I was photographing a bird.

[A]

The green feather.

[C]

Exactly. But as you know, it is not my policy to reveal the location of my finds. I'm afraid I couldn't answer your questions honestly without doing just that. I don't know if that helps.

[A]

It doesn't tell me why a man fell.

[D]

He doesn't know, Mr. Becker. He told you. It was a different day.

[A]

You were only there once.

[C]

That is correct.

[A]

And you set up your tripod.

[C]

The bird had nested in a fir tree about six feet out from the edge.

[A]

And you. You pushed the spikes into the ground. Hard ground.

[C]

I'm still fit.

[A]

Then you noticed that the camera was in the wrong position.

[C]

Do you think that I'm an amateur,

[D]

Becker, this is all beside the point.

[C]

The nest was in plain sight.

[A]

You didn't have to move the camera.

[C]

No.

[A]

So the second set of tripod holes were made by someone else. Set another time.

[C]

Second set?

[D]

Mr. Becker is suggesting.

[C]

I know what he's suggesting, Robin.

[A]

Did you go back again, sir?

[C]

Yes, I'm afraid yes. I was there the day Bryson fell, but I was gone long before.

[A]

It must have taken some resolution to climb a 60 foot ledge with a sprained ankle.

[C]

I told you I was fit, Becker.

[D]

Oh, stop it. Just stop it, Robin. Don't you see? He knows. He knows I was on that ledge. Is that what you wanted to hear, Mr. Becker?

[C]

Be quiet, Robin. My daughter would not recognize Bryson if she saw him.

[A]

Oh, she would, sir. She's been providing him with information for years. Information?

[D]

What are you talking about?

[A]

Birds, Ms. Morrison. Birds and where to find them.

[D]

That's ridiculous.

[A]

Then how is it that Bryson has an extensive private collection of your father's discoveries?

[C]

Perhaps we've not been as careful as we thought.

[A]

She's been helping Arthur Bryson for a long time. She's been.

[C]

This is impossible. Robin, tell him this is impossible.

[D]

That's what I am telling him. Why would I do that, Mr. Becker?

[A]

Because you're a scientist, Ms. Morrison. And you're frustrated by your father's refusal to respect that Bryson's collection was going to provide the scientific credibility your father lacked.

[C]

I don't care about scientific credibility.

[A]

But your daughter does. My guess is that she had an agreement with Bryson that would have returned the collection to her sometime in the future.

[C]

When I was dead, Robin.

[A]

But something went wrong, didn't it, Ms. Morrison? You found out Bryson was about to hold an exhibition of his collection, the Bryson collection. He was going to rob you of all possible credit. He might even have exposed you to your Father.

[D]

So I pushed him over a cliff?

[A]

No. But you refused to give him any further information.

[D]

And how did you arrive at that assumption, Mr. Becker?

[A]

Because he did something he had never done before. He sought the services of a guide. Whiskey Dan O'. Malley.

[C]

Whiskey Dan O'. MalleY.

[A]

But Whiskey Dan refused to help him, so Mr. Bryson was forced to wait.

[D]

I've had nothing to do with this.

[A]

Then your father sprained his ankle and that was the clue he needed.

[D]

We moved a long way before I went for help, Becker.

[A]

But you couldn't move far enough, could you? Bryson simply set up camp in the highest spot within a few miles of where our hotel staff picked you up from that meadow. He could watch you from the moment you stepped onto the trail.

[D]

This is ridiculous. You can't prove a thing. You haven't got one shred of real.

[A]

You've forgotten the game bag.

[D]

The game bag?

[A]

Arthur Bryson's game bag. The one you hid, remember? The one you were looking for today. Is that enough proof for you, Ms. Morrison?

[D]

Don't patronize me, Becker. And it's Dr. Morrison, if you don't mind. My father is Mr. Morrison.

[C]

Dr. Morrison.

[D]

It's honorary father from a faculty of arts. It's not serious. Nothing about you is serious except your passion for birds and your contempt for everything I believe in.

[C]

You've betrayed me, Robin.

[D]

I had to.

[C]

And the birds. Robin and the birds.

[D]

They're specimens. I had to have them.

[C]

How can you be so cold, so hard, so scientific. Yes, so scientific.

[A]

Let's get back to Arthur Bryson.

[D]

This isn't your concern, Becker.

[A]

Oh, yes, it is. When a body falls across my path, Dr. Morrison, it's my concern.

[D]

Arthur Bryson was about to ruin everything.

[C]

You've ruined everything.

[D]

Don't say that. You have no right to judge me.

[A]

Why don't you just tell me what happened?

[D]

Why? You think it's good for my soul? Becker, I'm a scientist. Didn't you hear my father? Cold, hard.

[A]

So tell me what happened as a scientist. Or can't you look at it?

[D]

The day after my father sprained his ankle, he asked me to complete the photography.

[C]

Five years I've been chasing that bird. Sometimes I'm lucky. But I wasn't lucky with him.

[D]

Well, I was lucky. That morning, the male actually lit a few feet from the camera right there in front of me. So close my hands were shaking. I'd never done this before. I completed my focus. Then it was as if I'd blinked. And he disappeared from the frame suddenly, just like that.

[A]

Arthur Bryson.

[D]

Arthur Bryson. Sauntered down the trail, grinning like a cat with a mouthful of feathers. He picked up the dead bird and held it out, offering it, tempting me to reach. And then he dropped it into his game bag. He knew he'd won. I wanted to scream when the female began to sing sadly. Sitting on the nest about six feet from the ledge, Arthur turned and raised his gun.

[C]

Robin.

[D]

I ran towards him. I didn't know what I was going to do. All I really wanted was to protect the bird. He'd already collected one specimen. Maybe I wanted to save one for my father. I don't know. Maybe I wanted one for myself. I'd never seen one of them shot before. I knocked Arthur's gun off its aim. The gun just charged and Arthur lost his balance and he disappeared over the edge. I packed up the equipment, took the game bag, climbed up the trail and hid in a small cave off the path. Arthur's friend went running past. Then nothing. I waited until later and found my way down. You know, Becker, when I think of that bird and my father here and Arthur Bryson falling off the ledge, Bryson is the thing I feel least concerned about.

[A]

Oh, Robin. And that was it. I took Dr. Robin Morrison down the hill to Sergeant Drake and she made a statement admitting her involvement in the death of Arthur Bryson. She left out a good deal of the story, but since she was prepared to admit her guilt, the sergeant wasn't concerned to ask her too many more questions. Not long after, the honorary Dr. Morrison announced his retirement with the sad reflection that his researches inevitably attracted hunters. After a while, the whole incident was forgotten by everyone except Whiskey Dan, who was convinced that I was the reason for Morrison's retirement. And me. I keep listening for that sad bird with the shining green feathers. I haven't heard it yet.