All language subtitles for Murder,.She.Wrote.S12E07.Deadly.Bidding.WEBRip.x264-ION10.

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

The stolen Degas.

I happen to know you’ve done
your share of forgeries.

Even on the black market it can bring
upwards of four million.

I’d have to be crazy to bid
on something that hot.

-Sold to Mrs. Fletcher.
-$400,0000.

People have to see your work
before they’ll spend their money.

-Where is the Degas?
-Really don’t know where the picture is.

Still keeping bad company, Jessica.

I don’t think I can trust you, Charlie.

Where did you find
this idiot Garrett anyway?

-I’ll kill him!
-Hey, look, pal, don’t crowd me, huh?

[man on radio] And in local news,

an Edgar Degas masterpiece,
The Dancing Class,

valued at between
15 and 20 million dollars

was stolen this evening

from the Brinfield Collection
on Fifth Avenue.

According to a police spokesperson,

it was the work of professional thieves,

but thus far, they have no leads.

And now back to, Music Through the Night.

Wow. The stolen Degas.

The Dancing Class? This is... wow.

You know, I had no idea you were
talking about this. This...

look, this could be a problem here.

Let me show you.

This old canvas stretcher,
it could be a dead giveaway.

Listen, friend,
I don’t have time for games.

I happen to know you’ve done
your share of forgeries,

and I’ve got it on very good authority

that you don’t have a pot
to soak your brushes in.

Now where’s the sample?

Okay. Okay. This is pretty much
what I had in mind.

Angus, it’s perfect.
Thank you. I despise it.

Thanks.

I call it Arrangement in Grey and Red.

This version’s a lot smaller,

but I’ll paint something
like it over the Degas.

You’re sure it can be removed
without damaging the Degas?

-Yeah. Yeah.
-Then do it, and don’t screw up.

Mr. Rundle, it took
some doing to find you.

What’s with the new name?

Mezznou, I can explain.

-I look forward to it.
-It’s not what you think.

Now, where is the Degas?

[grunts] All right! All right!

Please, God, don’t hurt me.

The painting is over... [gasping]

Is he?

-Yeah.
-Damn.

[Felix] My dear Mrs. Fletcher,
I would love to help you,

but with all your demands
for more and more authentication

of what is obviously a genuine
Arthur Conan Doyle journal,

and with absolutely no guarantees

that the Museum of Cultural History

would actually go through
with the purchase,

i felt I had no choice but to
put it up for auction.

[Jessica] Mr. Wesker, I have
a responsibility to the Museum,

and you know very well

why the additional
documentation was necessary.

Oh, please. Not that tedious
misunderstanding again.

-Misunderstanding?
-Mrs. Fletcher,

I truly believed
that the Thomas Nast etching

your committee bought from me was genuine.

If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t
have sold it to them.

And as your assistant curator can attest,

I refunded the Museum’s money in full.

Did I not, Ms. Evers?

Uh, yeah, after our attorneys got into it.

Don’t remind me.

In any case, I’m certain
the bidding won’t go far

beyond the $35,000
you were prepared to spend.

Plus the auction house commission,

which will put us way over our budget,

even if nobody bids against us.

And you will have had time
to satisfy yourselves

that it was written by Conan Doyle.

The notations are his. His paper...

Mr. Wesker, I’d like to have
one more look at the journal.

I’m sorry.

It’s already been delivered
to the auction house.

I’m sure they will accommodate you.

Now, if you’ll excuse me.

Mr. Wesker, have you
had a chance to look at

the portfolio I left with you?
My boyfriend’s photos?

Oh, yes. I’ll get to it in a day or two.

Bye bye.

Felix, you couldn’t have
lit my work a little better?

Angus, the answer is still no.

I need that money, Felix, now.

And I told you, not unless I know

what this business deal is all about.

You’ve managed to run through
more than $50,000 in advances

-in less than 18 months.
-I know.

And I’m not going to throw
good money after bad.

Excuse me. Look, Felix,
I need the money, all right,

so that I can buy my painting back

before it goes on the auction block.

-Arrangement in Grey and Red?
-Mmm-hmm.

Angus, this is hardly your best work.

I know, but I have a certain
sentimental attachment to it.

No. As your friend,

I’m simply not going to let
you waste your money, or mine.

[woman clears throat]
Mrs. Stephenson, you wanted to see

the Richard Pickering,
didn’t you? The big one.

Charlie, I didn’t bring you
all the way from Chicago

for you to ask a lot of questions.

I will tell you this much, though...

Leona, the Gunderson Brief,
paragraph 2, subparagraph B,

should read, "whereas," not
"hereas." You got that?

Thank you.

My client happens to
be a well-known collector,

and the way the high-end
art business works,

if he was to bid on that painting himself,
the price would go clear off the charts.

Uh-huh. You mean like at the track,

when the guys bet the favorite
and all the local yokels

-figure that somebody knows something?
-In a manner of speaking.

Well, tell me, Milt, what is the something

that your client knows about this
Arrangement in Grey and Red?

He wants to hang it on the wall
and look at it, okay?

Okay.

There’s $100,000 in there for you to bid,

plus the auction gallery commission.

And a $2,000 fee for you,
the easiest money you’ll ever make.

Look, when the waiter shows up,

just sign it on my account, okay?

Okay, but I’ve gotta tell you,
the only auction I ever went to

was when they repossessed my Chevy.

Just watch the action; you’ll get the hang
of it in no time, but whatever you do...

-do not, repeat--
-Do not bid one penny over 100,000 bucks.

I got it.

[Giles] I’m sure Mrs. Lauterbond

will get over her disappointment.

Perhaps next time,
she’ll give us her consignment

before we print our catalog. [laughs]

Peter, would you please tell
the caterers that if I see

another hors d’oeuvre with cheese sauce
or mayonnaise, that they’re fired?

-Right.
-Thanks.

Now look, Diana, we have got to watch
our printing and promotion costs.

And our phone bills
last month were outrageous.

Giles, I’m on top of it.

[sighs]

Ah, Ms. Evers, have you and Jessica

finished examining
the Conan Doyle journal?

Oh, she’s still going
over it, Mr. Havelock.

She said to tell you
she’s got some questions.

Very well.

Milt, how many times
do I have to tell you?

I cannot have the damn thing x-rayed

without raising questions.

Do you want me to play this again for you?

First, you have the canvas stretcher.

Degas was the only artist that
secured his with tulipwood wedges.

And then there’s the age of the wood
and the age of the canvas.

They haven’t manufactured
that weave since 1902.

And the dimensions. Are you sure?

They’re identical to the millimeter.

Sweetie, there’s absolutely no risk.

Garrett bids on
Arrangement in Grey and Red.

If we have any strong counter-bids,

well, we just know
someone else knows the value.

And if it’s Interpol or the police

or one of the thieves...

So what? Garrett is left holding the bag,

we deny everything.

Look, my guess is the only other person
who know the value is Angus,

and he can’t afford
to reveal his complicity.

Honey, nobody is gonna outbid
the $200,000 that you gave to Garrett.

-One hundred.
-What? Are you joking?

That’s all I could get my hands on.

Helen’s got my assets tied up like...

Great. Great, great.

All right, is this Garrett
gonna make trouble for us?

Charlie Garrett can barely
find his way across town.

Oh, God, Diana, you have no idea
how badly I want this to work out,

for us to be together.

Yeah.

With a free-and-clear nest egg
of four million dollars

that your wife can never touch.

"March 14, 1926."

"The vitality in the sea of faces I saw"

"yesterday at Ellis island,"

"this threshold, free at last"

"from famine, cossacks,
religious oppression,"

"made me understand, finally,"

"the dream, the pull of
the American experience."

Impressive.

There was clearly a great deal
more to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

than Sherlock Holmes.

Which most writers
would kill to have created.

Oh, I don’t know, Giles.

I mean, the documentation
of the handwriting,

the provenances, they...
they all check out.

But somehow I just can’t shake
my doubts that it’s genuine.

A healthy attitude.

Between my years
in the business and my forebears

looking over my shoulder, lest I forget,

I’ve learned to mistrust the authenticity

of nearly anything I sell.

And frankly, with a gallery owner
like Felix Wesker involved,

your reservations are doubly justified.

[chuckles] Thanks. That makes
it so much easier for me

to spend the Museum’s money.

On the other hand,

I believe this’ll be
the third or fourth time

we’ve sold the piece, and yet the price
is still very reasonable.

Meaning that there wouldn’t be much profit

in going to all the trouble of forging it.

Precisely. It’s not as if
we’re talking a fake Da Vinci.

At any rate, Jessica, let’s
hope the only bumps tonight

will be from customers eagerly
outbidding one another.

-Hope so.
-After you.

[Peter] It’s bad enough that you
gave the gallery my pictures

without even asking, but to Felix Wesker!

I mean, the guy has raised
schlock-hyping to an art form all its own.

Peter, wait a second.

First off, he’s someone we do
business with at the museum.

And secondly, you don’t
realize how talented you are.

No! No! No!

The pictures are just
plain not good enough yet,

and we are not gonna begin our lives
together eating peanut butter and jelly.

Peter, people have to see your work
before they’ll spend their money on it.

No, sweetheart, listen,

I have got to do things my way, my terms

when I feel that I am ready.

[Felix] I just wanted to satisfy
myself about something.

[coughs]

It’s dusty in here, isn’t it?

Well, it’s definitely a minor work.

Well, with Angus,
it’s always hard to tell.

How fortunate you’re not
paid to be an art critic.

Felix, is there something else
you’d like to see?

No. No.

Oh! Incidentally, this Mrs. Rundle,

the woman who brought Angus’
painting to my gallery,

and is now putting it up for auction,

what do you know about her?

Not much. We’re selling
a few items for her--

A couple of unimportant
Louis Quinze chests,

a low-end Tiffany lamp.

Apparently, she’s liquidating
her late husband’s estate.

Well, she’s obviously a woman
of deep sentiment or shallow pockets.

[Angus] Look, Mr. Lorenzo,

I can resell the item within
a skinny minute, okay?

So, you know, I can pay you
back within 10 days, Max.

[Lorenzo speaking indistinctly]

No. No. It’s a painting, okay?

And I’ve got a buyer who’ll...

[dial tone] Mr. Lorenzo?

Damn.

[knock on door]

Ah, Mr. Mezznou.
Hey, come on in. Come on in.

You were smart to call me directly.

I can offer you a very attractive deal
on one of my paintings,

and that way, you don’t have
to pay Felix’s mark-up.

I misled you, Mr. Neville,

in order that you might talk about
one of your earlier efforts,

the one to be sold at
the Greylight Auction Galleries,

Arrangement in Grey and Red.

Hey, who... who the hell are you guys?

Mr. Neville, I assure you
that Orlando and I

are not with any law enforcement agency.

However, I was wondering
if you might have been

acquainted with the subject
of this obituary.

Mr. Kenneth Rundle?

No. Why?

Mr. Neville, were you considering
bidding on your own work?

[sighs] Well, yeah, you know,

for old times’ sake, yeah.

Permit me to offer you an admonition.

If you bid on it or have anyone
else do so on your behalf,

my friend here, Orlando,
will very likely kill you,

and the other person or persons.

And that includes Mr. Rundle’s
widow, Serena Rundle.

[exhales]

What do you say, pal?
Come to these circuses often?

And what with the increasing popularity

of Angus Neville’s work, Mrs. Rundle,

I really believe that
you’re going to be surprised

at the price this piece brings.

My, that would be lovely, now,
wouldn’t it, Ms. Barrow?

My late husband and I
agreed on almost everything,

except for his taste in art.

Because I recognized
the canvas stretcher, that’s how I knew.

Honestly, Angus, you could’ve told me.

Look, I’m sorry, okay?

Felix, I never knew
what became of the damn thing

till it showed up in your gallery.

The guy I painted it for,
this Kenneth Rundle,

he never told me his real name.

Felix, Felix, you take 65, I’ll take 35.

Are you kidding?

I’d have to be crazy to bid on
something that hot.

Come on.

Who else is gonna know about it
except the late Mr. Rundle and me?

I mean, obviously his widow doesn’t have
a clue there’s a Degas underneath.

Shh!

Did you see the insulting price
she’s started at for my work?

Felix, even if the law is onto it,

don’t you think they would
have made their move by now?

Ever occur to you, my friend,

the law may be waiting
just to see who bids on it?

Okay. Then I’ll...
I’ll claim it’s a forgery.

[scoffs] Of an Angus Neville?

[sighs] Felix, even as stolen goods,

the damn thing’s gotta be
worth what, four, five mil?

Case closed, period.

Okay, okay, okay.

How about instead of
65-35, how about 70-30?

I should have my head examined. 90-10.

Done.

Felix, maybe it’d be
a good idea if, you know,

we didn’t talk to each other

until after you bought the painting.

[Peter] So, I tried calling Reggie
all afternoon to apologize,

but she wasn’t answering her phone.

Well, maybe she wasn’t there.

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher. Hello.

I presume you’re satisfied about
the Conan Doyle journal?

No, but my own doubts notwithstanding,

the other members of the board
seem to feel that

it’s too important
an acquisition to pass up,

so they’ve authorized me to
go ahead and bid on it.

-Wonderful.
-Excuse me.

I’ve just got to get a few paintings
out of the storeroom for the auction.

Uh... I always get the last
three numbers screwed up.

Pete, Giles mentioned
that the Conan Doyle journals

had been auctioned about three times

in the past three years.

Be interesting to talk to some
of those previous owners.

Yeah, and find out why
it changed hands so often.

Is there any way we could get their names?

Well, I’ll see what I can do.
As soon as I finish with

-The rest of the auction lots.
-Good.

I had very little knowledge

of my husband’s business
activities, Mr. Mezznou,

but frankly, I don’t know what
business it is of yours, anyway.

Madame, please. I meant no offense.

I was merely curious

where he might have acquired

Arrangement in Grey and Red.

Mezznou, what brings you to New York?

Investment, Mr. Havelock. Investment.

As I’m sure you’re aware
of the growing demand

in the Middle East and in Europe
for American Contemporary.

Indeed there is,

but apparently, Mrs. Rundle
isn’t interested.

I apologize.

And I should warn you that,
like so many people in this business,

that man is not an ethical character.

Oh, thank you. Even I could see that.

-Hi.
-Oh, Reggie.

Oh! I gotta tell you...

-No, Pete, I was way off base.
-No, no, no.

You had it nailed, I have been afraid
of putting myself out there.

And that is all about to change, okay?

-Okay.
-Okay.

[man] Ladies and gentlemen,
the auction is about to begin.

Please take your seats.

Look, the bidding is about to start...

-And I’ll see you out front.
-Okay.

[Giles] And I have $17,000. $17,000.

$17,500. $17,500.

20. 20 on the phones.

Thank you, Diana.
20 on the phones. In the room.

So Greylight Auction Galleries
sold the Conan Doyle journal

three times in the past four years?

And each time, the seller
was Felix Wesker.

But look, the buyer was
different each time.

Yeah. Mrs. Sarah Weiskopf.

Anthony Dimarco, Richard Rimsen.

And a "T" in front of each of their names.

-I wonder what that means.
-I don’t know, Reggie,

but I wish there was time
to get in touch with these people.

Number 435, which is
the original manuscript

of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s
New York journal,

-dated 1926.
-Oh, that’s us.

[Giles] And I can tell you,
it’s a fascinating item.

-We’ll start the bidding at $20,000.
-Charlie.

Jessica. What are you doing here?

Well, I’m bidding on something.

Well, I’m bidding on a painting.
Hey, I could use your help.

Oh, well, not right now, Charlie. Later.

-Excuse me.
-[Giles] $25,000? $30,000?

Do I have $30,000?

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

In the room, I have $30,000. $30,000?

-$32,000. I have $32,000 there.
-Can you see?

Is it Mr. Wesker running up the price?

[Giles] 33? $32,000. $32,000.

-[whispering] I can’t tell.
-I have 32,000. $32,000.

$33,000. 33.

34. 34. 34 on my left.

-Here goes my limit.
-Okay.

$35,000. 35. 35.

Last call. Fair warning then.

With you, $35,000.

Sold to Mrs. Fletcher.

And the next item is lot number 436,

Arrangement in Grey and Red.

American Contemporary, oil on
canvas, by Angus Neville.

And I suggest we open this at $25,000.

25? 25.

25, 25, $27,000?

Thirty!

[Giles] $30,000. I have $30,000
here. Thank you, Sir.

35. 35. $40,000.

$40,000. $40,000. 50.

-$70,000.
-[Giles] $70,000.

$70,000. 70? 70? 70? 70? In the rooms.

Eighty.

80. $80,000. I have $80,000.

Thank you very much, Sir. 80? 80? 80?

Make it 100 grand.

$100,000. I have $100,000.

-That’s all she wrote.
-[Giles] $100,000? $100,000?

-105.
-105.

$105,000. With you, Sir, 105.

105. Fair warning. It’s gonna be sold.

$105,000. 105.

Does the bidder in the second
row mean to bid $400,000?

Very well, fair warning then.

$400,000. Sold.

$400,000 to Mr. Charles Garrett.

Yeah, where did you find
this idiot Garrett anyway?

I’ll kill him!

Look, is there any chance that
you can get that money?

What? What, if you can’t come up
with the other $300,000,

where the hell do you think I’m
gonna find that kind of money?

I want this painting,
Milt. Do you understand?

Look, I gotta go.

All in all, a successful evening.

Yes, it was.

With a few surprises.

You mean the Angus Neville painting?

I’ve just had calls from a pair
of our regular customers

who were bidding on the Angus Neville.

Van Eyck in Amsterdam, Sinclair in London.

They both said you put them on hold
and suddenly, they were disconnected.

They were very unhappy

until I told them the selling price.

They weren’t prepared to go that high.

I’m sorry, Giles.

Oh, I’m sure.

Curious, though.

The bidding for that item also
seemed to have a profound effect

on Lawrence Mezznou, Felix Wesker.

Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that.

Mmm-hmm.

Well, the good news is,
we can meet next month’s rent.

-Good night.
-Good night.

I’m afraid your client is right.

You are liable for the entire amount.

-400,000 bucks?
-Yes.

And the gallery’s commission,
plus legal fees, if any.

On top of that, he wants
his money back, all of it.

How could I have been so dumb?

And his anonymous buyer
can’t come up with it?

Or won’t. Either way, I’m definitely
up the mall without a credit card.

Which reminds me,

this is a very expensive restaurant.

Don’t worry about that, Jessica.
I’ve got that covered.

[waiter] Excuse me.

Mr. Garrett, there’s a phone call for you

on the house phone near the restrooms.

-For me?
-Yes, Sir.

Nobody knows I’m here.

The gentleman asked for Mr. Charles
Garrett, dining with Mrs. Fletcher.

-You’re sure?
-Yes, Sir.

Huh. Look, put this on
Mr. Solomon’s account,

-And write in a nice tip for yourself.
-Thank you.

Yeah. Hello?

Thank you for taking my call, Mr. Garrett.

Regrettably, either Angus Neville
failed to convey to you

the sincerity of my warning
not to bid on his painting,

or you chose to ignore it.

You talking about the painter?
He never said anything.

Hey, look, pal, don’t crowd me, huh?

[grunts] [Jessica] Mr. Mezznou.

I suggest that you both leave immediately,
or I’ll call the police.

Oh!

Yes.

[Charlie] You know, Jessica, you seem

pretty well-connected
in this art business.

You know anything about
this Angus Neville,

the guy who painted
Arrangement in Grey and Red?

No, but that fellow Mezznou’s companion,

the guy who hit you, he had a gun.

-You’re kidding.
-Mmm-mmm.

Now, you knew that, Charlie.

Now, you and I both know

that there is something about
that picture that isn’t quite right.

You know, it’s getting late,
and I gotta run.

I got a very heavy day tomorrow
trying to come up with all that scratch.

Look, Charlie, slow down.

And besides, you know, Mezznou
and that Felix what’s-his-name...

-Wesker.
-Yeah.

They had their faces
fixed on buying that turkey,

and I took it away from them.

-They’ll get over it.
-I’ll call you before I leave for Chicago.

[knock on door]

Hey, look, if it’s about my painting...

No! [screams]

[Unger] And naturally, the victim,

he had to have been at
an art auction with maybe

100,000 people I’ve gotta talk to.

Anyway, thanks for coming over.

When I heard you were there,
I figured that makes one less person

I’ve gotta track down.

Well, I expected you to be
halfway to Niagara Falls.

Yeah. The call came in
just as we were leaving.

Arlene’s flying up.

I’ll join her there in a couple
of months if I’m lucky.

The officer at the door said that
it looked like a burglary-homicide.

Well, at first glance, yeah.

Perpetrator cleaned out
the victim’s wallet,

wristwatch, et cetera, cabinets rifled.

But there’s no sign of forced entry.

Now, the 911 call came in at 2:15 a.m.

a neighbor heard some thumping noises.

Preliminary indicates he was
stabbed through the heart.

Now, this individual, you said,

bought the victim’s painting last night...

looks like maybe a painting was cut off
this canvas stretcher, Sergeant.

It’s hard to tell if it was recent.

Hmm, that’s old wood.

And I found this on the floor.
Looks like a phone number.

And I just heard from Downtown.

There was a theft last night at
the Greylight Auction Galleries.

Only item stolen was
a painting by the decedent.

Something called
Arrangement in Grey and Red.

-About 1:45 a.m., they took it.
-What?

Well, that’s the painting that
Mr. Garrett bought.

Mac, check out that phone number

and this canvas stretcher
against that stolen painting.

Okay.

Anyway, you happen to know
this Garrett’s first name?

Charles.

Charles Garrett. I ran into
a guy by that name once

on an extradition from Chicago.

Not the kind of bozo you’d
ever have anything to do with.

Jessica, you’re kidding.

That Charles Garrett?

[Reggie] Pete, Jessica recognized
the security code.

It’s just a matter of time until they find
your fingerprints on that paper.

But how did it get into
Angus Neville’s studio?

Well, thanks.

Here are the new photos.
What do you think?

Oh! They’re great.

I’m going for it.
I think everything will be okay.

But why all the sudden confidence?

I was wrong, and you were right.

We have to begin living our lives now,
and the money will come.

Fantastic.

Now, about the previous owners
of the Conan Doyle journal?

Jessica wanted to know if you were
able to speak to any of them.

Oh, no luck.

The phone numbers in the computer,

two in Manhattan,
one in Queens, are stale,

and there aren’t any current listings
in any of the five borough phone books.

So it’s like they left town
or disappeared.

Those printouts you showed us,
were you able to find out

what the "T" next to any of
those names meant?

Yeah, it means that
they weren’t at the auction.

They just phoned in their bids.

[Giles] Absolutely, Mrs. Foster.

Yes, I understand completely,

and I assure you, our security
will be tighter than ever.

[door opens] What? Oh, I can be there...

it’s 2:55. Yeah, I can
be there in half an hour.

Yes, splendid. And goodbye.

[sighs] That was yet another client I had
to talk out of withdrawing her collection

from our next auction.

Oh, uh, here’s that list of unsolved
art thefts you asked for.

I don’t suppose you care to give me a hint

as to how that mind of yours is working.

-Not just yet, Giles. Thank you.
-Right.

How do we know that you didn’t kill Angus

and take the painting for yourself?

Darling, I understand how upset you are,

so I’ll discount the fact
that you could even think such a thing.

Yeah, well, if you didn’t
do it, then Garrett did.

And if the police get to him...

if the police get to him,
then you’re gonna look

-an awful lot like an accomplice.
-Along with you.

[chuckles] That’s where you’re
wrong, Milt, darling.

Disappointed? You don’t
understand, Mr. Wesker.

I’m... I’m... I’m crushed.

I loved Arrangement in Grey and Red.

-It spoke to me.
-I’m sure.

Look, Garrett, I’m not about to
discuss Angus or his painting.

I know nothing about this Mezznou fellow,
and I have work to do,

-so if you’ll excuse me.
-Wait a minute. Uh...

suppose I told you
that I could lay my hands on

Arrangement in Grey and Red.

What’d it be worth to you?

Zero, friend. Bupkis.

Bupkis? You wanted it
pretty badly last night.

Well, that was before people
started getting murdered.

Besides, look around you
at all these Angus Nevilles.

Now that he’s dead,

the price of his work is going
to go through the roof.

Garrett, I don’t know
what your agenda is, but...

I’ve been wondering about that myself,

and you’re about to satisfy my curiosity.

Wait a minute, don’t I know you?
Sunger, bunger, uh...

-Unger.
-Right.

Now, where was it? 63rd and Stony Island.

You were having trouble trying
to arrest some poor schlub

who’d locked himself
in the back of your car.

That’s enough, Garrett.

Come on, there’s a lot of questions
you’re gonna have to answer.

Yeah? Like what?

Like how a guy with 247 bucks
in his checking account

can afford to buy
a painting for 400 large,

like where you were between
2:00 and 5:00 this morning,

and like how the hell a lady
like Jessica Fletcher

ever got involved with you.

All right, let’s go.

[Jessica] There it is.

Now, this one died five years ago,

and that’s why you couldn’t locate them.

The last three people who owned
the Conan Doyle journal

were all dead when they bought it.

Well, I don’t understand.

I think I’m beginning to.

Pete, look. Kenneth Rundle’s obituary.

Ah, the guy whose wife put
Angus Neville’s painting up for auction.

Exactly.

You know, we may have stumbled onto
something far more important

than my concerns over Mr. Doyle’s journal.

According to this,

Mr. Rundle was never married.

Mr. Dunning, you got a minute?

-Sergeant Unger.
-Oh, yeah. Sure.

-Here, honey.
-Huh?

Could you go get the car, please?

Yeah. Sure.

Is there something I can
do for you, Sergeant?

Yeah, there is.

You can explain to me what you were doing

in Angus Neville’s studio last night.

Oh. Oh, the security code numbers.

-Bingo.
-Ah.

-I was gonna call you.
-Sure, you were.

No. Really, really.
I’ve been tied up all day.

I have never been to Angus’ studio.

What do you do here

at the auction gallery, Mr. Dunning?

Yeah. Anything, everything.
It’s just my day job.

My real career is photography.
But listen, Sergeant...

Must be a tough row to hoe, huh?

Hanging around all those zillionaires,

schlepping million-dollar paintings

for what, 20 bucks an hour?

Ten.

Pete. You gave me
the house key by mistake.

Oh.

-You nervous, Mr. Dunning?
-No.

Don’t make any travel plans, okay?

Goodbye.

Bye.

Hey, it’s... it’s okay.

[Jessica] A murder, an old stretcher,

a new painting, a dead,
unmarried art collector

whose nonexistent widow
puts it up for sale,

a lot of people
very interested in bidding on it.

And then, that report
of unsolved art thefts

that Giles Havelock got for me.

Now, it’s called The Dancing Class.

The dimensions are identical to
Arrangement in Grey and Red.

Hmm.

Stolen two years ago from the Brinfield
collection right here in Manhattan.

Charlie, are you certain that
you had no idea?

Well, I mean, of course I knew that
there was something twisted.

I mean, after all, you got Milt Solomon,
Mezznou, this Wesker fellow.

I mean, they all had to know.
I was just the patsy.

Now, tell me about the painting,
this dee-gas.

Degas.

Whatever. It’s worth a bundle, right?

Well, according to my friend
at The Daily Chronicle,

even on the black market,

it can bring upwards of four million.

Four million?

That’s a lot of money.

Uh, Charlie, wait.

You don’t really intend to try
trafficking in stolen goods

instead of doing the honorable thing.

Jessica, I mean, it’s hard to walk away
from that kind of dough.

No. I am not going to look the other way

-while you chase after one more brass ring
-But...

and very likely get
yourself killed in the bargain.

Now, before we go to the police,

are you sure you’ve been truthful with me
about everything?

-Absolutely. I...
-That’s very reassuring, Mr. Garrett,

because I can assume that what you have
told Felix Wesker is accurate--

That you do indeed

know the whereabouts of
Arrangement in Grey and Red,

or if you prefer,

Edgar Degas’ The Dancing Class.

Now I submit that it will be unfortunate

for you, and Mrs. Fletcher,

if you do not share
this information with me, right now.

Now wait a minute.

You think I did Angus Neville
and stole the painting?

Huh! What are you, out of your mind?

I was scamming Felix Wesker.

I haven’t the foggiest idea
where that painting is.

You are going to take us there,
Mr. Garrett, now.

Charlie, at the risk of saying,
"I told you so,"

do you see what playing fast and loose
with the truth has finally got you into?

But, Jessica, I really don’t
know where the picture is.

Mr. Mezznou, you don’t expect
me to sit here while...

It was your choice, Madame,

and it probably’ll be
the last one you’ll ever make.

[exclaims in disgust]

How disgusting!
I’ve never seen anything...

Waiter.

Mrs. Fletcher, what’s wrong?

There’s a creature in my soup.

Excuse me. Jessica, that was brilliant.

Now, where are we going? Not to
the police, I hope, not for a while.

Charlie, that’s exactly where we’re going.

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher, Mr. Garrett.

You’ve got an awful lot
of explaining to do.

I’m Special Agent Karla Nemeth, FBI.

Lady, you’ve got some
explaining to do yourself.

Still keeping bad company, Jessica.

-Sergeant, we were on our way to see you.
-[Unger] Sure, you were.

Garrett, you’re under arrest
for complicity

in the theft of a Degas painting,

not to mention very likely
murdering Angus Neville.

And you, Jessica, if we weren’t friends,

you’d be looking at a possible charge of
obstruction of justice.

-Oh.
-[officer] Let’s go.

Kenneth Rundle was a known
international art thief.

Our office recognized him from
his obituary photograph.

-Ah, it’s the one you showed me.
-Mmm.

We got a warrant to search
Rundle’s apartment.

I took one look at the proportions of
Arrangement in Grey and Red,

and guessed the truth,
so we had it x-rayed.

And you found the Degas underneath.

-So Agent Nemeth...
-Yeah, I’ll handle this, Sergeant.

I posed as Rundle’s wife,

and put it in Felix Wesker’s
gallery for a few weeks

to see who we could smoke out.

When nobody bit, we decided
to put it up for auction.

We heard that Rundle had double-crossed
his partners in crime.

-Mr. Mezznou and Orlando.
-Yes, and apparently,

they were in bed with your friend here
and his so-called client.

Oh, come on, lady, give me a break.

You’re as far out
in left field as this guy.

-[whispers] Charlie!
-Sergeant, getting back to business,

we got a lot of questions to ask this man.

So when are you going to be
finished with him?

I’ll let you know, Agent Nemeth.

Meanwhile, this is my case, my collar,

and I want you out of here, now.

[woman chattering on P.A.] Mrs. Fletcher.

Telephone, Sergeant.

Yeah.

[man] Sergeant, the waitress
confirmed Garrett’s alibi.

[sighs]

All right, thanks. And keep
looking for the murder weapon.

Okay, Garrett.

The waitress in the all-night
coffee shop confirms your alibi.

Didn’t I tell you?

She said that waiting on you was
like time stood still for her.

-[Charlie] Yeah?
-Yeah.

She said she’ll never forget pouring you
six cups of coffee for a 20-cent tip.

Get him out of here, Jessica.

Time stood still.

Jessica, what are you talking about?

I think I know where to find the painting
and who murdered Angus Neville.

Really? Aren’t you gonna let me in on it?

[sighs] I don’t think I can
trust you, Charlie.

Jessica?

Charlie, you were supposed
to go and find Sergeant Unger.

Yeah, I know I was, but fortunately,
my better judgment kicked in.

Anyway, you weren’t being
that straight with me.

Well, with good reason,
obviously, Charlie.

The truth is, ever since I met you,

I’ve been afraid that something
like this would happen.

Is there anything that I can say?

Not this time, Jessica.
The stakes are just too high.

I must say I’m greatly relieved.

Giles?

Because you and Mr. Garrett are friends,

I had serious doubts when he called me.

I was afraid I was being set up.

But you see, I made him
an irresistible offer.

Half of everything in exchange
for keeping my mouth shut.

I’ll probably hate myself, Jessica, but...

Charlie.

You can’t trust him. He’s a murderer.

That’s a rather outrageous
thing to say, Jessica.

And quite untrue.

Well, not really, Giles.

When I stopped in here earlier
today, you were on the phone.

It’s now 2:55.

I can be there in half an hour.

And yet, your clock said 2:37,

just as it does now.

At the time, I simply assumed
it was a few minutes slow.

But when Sergeant Unger
mentioned the words,

"time stood still,"

I remembered that the pendulum
wasn’t moving and realized

it had actually stopped
at 2:37 this morning,

when you returned from
having murdered Angus

and stealing Arrangement in Grey and Red,

and inadvertently jammed
the clock’s mechanism

by concealing this inside--

Arrangement in Grey and Red,
painted over the Degas.

I’m impressed, Jessica.

Yes.

Yes, I did it.

Garrett, what are we going to do with her?

Well, I don’t know about you, pal,

but I’m gonna give her a great big hug
for cooking up this charade.

And I’m placing you under arrest
for murder, Mr. Havelock,

along with grand theft.

We have found this dagger in a dumpster

on Third Avenue and University Place,

one block from Neville’s studio.

I worked late last night...

after the auction,

writing checks to creditors,
as a matter of fact,

in anticipation of the fat
commission from this.

Then I began thinking about
Diana’s behavior, and Felix Wesker,

Lawrence Mezznou and the ridiculous price.

And then, your request for that
list of stolen artworks.

There was obviously more to it
than met the eye.

I let myself into the storeroom
and examined the canvas.

And then, I realized it was
one of Degas’ stretchers.

I was contemplating what to do next,
when the decision was made for me.

I watched from the shadows
as Angus stole the painting.

When he left, I came back in
here, grabbed my letter opener,

and followed him to his studio.

Those three generations of tradition,

they were a formidable burden, Jessica.

It was the only way I could see to keep

Greylight Auction Galleries
from going under.

Well, nobody’s perfect.

Reggie, I know how the board feels,

but I really am more convinced than ever

that there’s something about this journal

that is just not quite right.

Well, the fact that Felix Wesker used
dead people to bid on it

does raise a few more questions.

At any rate, for the moment,
I really do recommend

that the museum should stop payment
on the check until we sort this thing out.

[man on tv] ...only a few years earlier.

Ellis island was finally closed in 1924.

But today, restored and reopened
as a national monument,

Americans have the opportunity
to once again...

1924. That’s it!

-That’s what’s wrong.
-Of course.

He described his visit to Ellis island.

And the immigrants’ faces.

And the place had already
been closed for two years.

Hmm. Well, I can’t wait to get home.

At least with the Chicago
crooks and con men,

you can tell the good guys
from the bad guys.

Not always, Charlie.