Original subtitles

Barnaby Jones, a QM production starring Buddy Epson.

Also starring Lee Merriweather, Mark Schera.

With guest stars Harry Gardino, Alan Hunt,

Hilary Thompson, Laurette Spang,

Laurie Lethine,

Charles Lampkin with special guest star Lyndon Childs.

Tonight's episode, The Final Victim.

Well, it ain't just you keep on feeding yourself that chocolate. You're going to

have bumps on your pretty little face tomorrow.

It's all right. It's all right.

Police officer.

Detective Gibson. May I ask you for identification, please?

Is my driver's license all right?

Susan Cooper, 1014 Grover Street, Culverton.

License B89998.

Is there something wrong, officer?

Yeah. Whatever it is that turns nice -looking kids like you into hustling.

Look, officer, there's a bus strike on. I was just trying to hit you right home.

No law against that, is there?

Culverton is 60 miles from here, Susan, in the opposite direction.

Well, I don't live there anymore.

I'm staying in the valley, Northridge.

I even go to college there.

Anything?

Well, it looks like you don't have an arrest record, Susan.

Not yet.

That's not going to last long if you keep playing this neighborhood.

Honest, the only reason I went into Hollywood was to see about a new part

job. That's all.

Susan, there's a...

Phone up there by the hamburger stand.

Call a taxi.

Go on.

And don't let me see you around this neighborhood again.

John hands me 30 bucks for my healthy cheap phone.

And then I make it. And then he hands it to me.

You going to the valley?

Yeah. So him play ragtime on the piano.

Did they call you Susie or Susan?

Susan.

Um, that turn that you took back there?

And that isn't the way I came over the hills before.

Oh, no?

Well, like you say, you've only been in Los Angeles for a month.

After you've been here for a while, you get to learn all the good spots.

Good spots?

Look, mister, I think you're making a big mistake.

What's the matter? You don't like the view, Susie?

I'm sorry, but I really have to get home.

You really are new at this, aren't you?

You afraid you picked up a vice cop by mistake?

Is that it?

I'll tell you what.

Here's 50 bucks.

Now, I'm making the offer.

If I was a vice cop, that would be entrapment, so there's no problem of

solicitation on your part, right?

Come on, honey, 50 bucks.

It's all I'm going to pay.

Mr. Luck, I'm really sorry, but I'm not the kind of girl you think I am. What's

the matter with you, kid? You trying to rip me off or something? Fifty bucks.

Take it or leave it. I'm not what you think I am. You're the real guy.

All right. Okay. Just calm down, huh?

Okay.

Cool it. Everything's going to be okay.

I'm not what you think I am. Hey, just keep your voice down. Somebody might

you. Stay away from me. I'm sorry.

I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Only please stop shouting. Somebody

hear you.

Oh, Barnaby.

Oh, John.

Oh, you know Walt D 'Angelo, don't you?

Sure, Walt.

How's the newspaper business treating you? Well, it's not doing my ulcer any

good. What brings you up here in the hills on this cold and sorry morning?

I've been working on a missing persons case the last few days. Apparently,

that's it.

Oh, hey.

Maybe we can do business together, Barnaby.

I could use some background on your girl here.

For a column that I'm doing about teenage hustlers.

Teenage hustlers?

It's a sign of the times, Barnaby.

Sign of the times.

John, are we talking about the same person, Susan Cooper?

Yeah, I'm afraid so, Barnaby.

Here.

Teenage hustler.

Doesn't sound much like the young lady I was hired to find.

Lieutenant, the medical examiner wants you to sign for the release of the body.

Oh, yeah, okay.

Detective Gibson here turned this thing around for us.

Tom, why don't you fill Barnaby in? I'll be right back.

Mr. Jones, nice to see you again.

Lieutenant told me you made detective.

Congratulations. Thank you.

Congratulations? For what?

Barnaby, you realize that this kid here could have been a brain surgeon, an

astronaut, at the very least a siding salesman if he'd only listened to me

once. Walt, after my mother died, maybe I was the kid while you were helping my

father to raise me. But I'm a big boy now, so back off. You see how he talks

me? That's gratitude.

I see you two are still at each other.

What do you want to know, Mr. Jones?

Anything you can tell me, Tom.

Well, Barnaby, this is what happened. Tom stopped his girl, Susan, in the

of Hustler Head last night around 8 o 'clock. Now, she told him that she was

hitching for a ride to Northridge.

Obviously, she wasn't telling the truth because the Emmy puts the time of death

between 8 and 10 p .m.

He didn't ask you.

I was only trying to help. Look, this is my case, okay?

Now, for once in your life, just stay out of it.

You know something, Tom? You are beginning to bug me.

I gave Susan a warning. I told her to leave the area.

From the looks of things, she picked up a John a few minutes later. They came

directly here to Hustler Heaven, annex number one.

Now, who knows? Maybe the John didn't like the cut of her jib. Maybe he was a

religious fanatic. And boom, that's all she wrote.

You just can't help helping, right?

Mr. Jones, take a look at this.

We found dried blood on this rock.

That's what killed her. A blow on the head.

Is that where the rock came from?

Yes, it fits perfectly.

And the one solid clue we have... There's a set of tire tracks from the

car, and that's the whole picture, Barnaby.

Oh, for God's sakes, Uncle.

Uncle? Uncle!

Well, at last I got a little respect.

He's a good kid, Barnaby. His old man would be proud of him.

Well, I guess I'll be running home. I'm sorry about your missing persons turning

out this way.

So am I.

I'm going to have to make a very unpleasant phone call to that young

father.

It's all a lie, Mr. Jones.

How can they print those lies about my daughter?

You've got to understand, sir.

Cooper is a very respected name in court.

Mr. Cooper M.

Truly sorry that you had to learn about your daughter this way.

Yes, Barnaby asked that I try to get you on the phone, but your wife said that

you were already on your way to Los Angeles.

Mr. Jones, you have to do something about those lies.

Oh, Mr. Cooper, the police are looking for your daughter's killer. That's about

the best that can be done right now.

No, it isn't, Mr. Jones.

The police have already got Susan down, is what that paper calls her.

Now, I want you to find out the truth.

I want you to clear my daughter's name.

Please, Mr. Jones.

Mr. Cooper, I'll certainly do what I can.

Thank you very much, sir.

Lucy, will you get your cotton -picking hands off my desk?

You know, every time you mess around there, it takes me weeks to find

Look at this. Laundry bills, dentist bills.

Why don't you ever pay any of these things on time?

Have you read your contract? You were hired as my research assistant and not

analyst. Oh, grumble, grumble, grumble. What's the matter? Did you forget to

have your lunch again?

And that's another thing.

Stop mothering me, okay?

If God wanted me to have a mother, it would have been Sophia Loren.

Any phone calls for me?

Yes, yes.

Councilman Henry called, and he wants you to endorse him in the next election.

Only if he's running for dog catcher. Next.

Um, and your publisher called, and he wants to give you a party for your

book. DeAngelo, I'm still managing editor of this newspaper, right?

Honey, does this man have an appointment?

Then why? Why didn't you tell me you're doing a column on hustlers?

Teenage hustlers, Dick.

Teenage hustlers.

I'm calling it The Anatomy of Dying Young.

You like it?

Oh, come on, Walt. You're supposed to be writing think pieces for the op -ed

page, not this see -me stuff. That's for the city desk.

Listen, let me tell you something.

There's 172 papers that carry my column.

You don't like it, stick it in your ear.

Wait a minute. I didn't say I wasn't going to print it.

But hustlers, who cares?

I care.

Oh. The parents care.

The parents of hundreds of thousands of teenagers all over the country lured

into that kind of life.

Some of them no more than 12 and 14 years old. The parents care.

But sure, if it was a column about broads old enough to wear a 40D bra, you

know, the cleavage sells newspapers, right?

You know something, Walt?

When you die, the heat down there is going to wake you up.

Walt, did I tell you to stop butting into my life or didn't I? Oh, another

county heard from.

Ever since I graduated from the police academy, you've been sticking your two

cents into every case I was ever on.

Using your friends and contacts to feed me clues in order to make me look good.

Well, I won't have it anymore. Not on my first case as a detective.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about Barnaby Jones, that's what. I want you to call him off.

Jones? Call him off? For what?

Oh, look at this.

Butter would not melt in this man's mouth. Tom, that's no way to talk to

uncle. He's not my uncle.

He's not even my friend. He's a pain in the... Will you shut up and tell me what

this is all about?

Barnaby Jones called Lieutenant Biddle for a look at the ID report I made that

night on Susan Cooper.

But you don't know that, do you?

Tom, in the first place, I never tried to help you now or ever to make good as

cop, except maybe to get you fired and back in school.

And in the second place, I better go see what Barnaby is up to.

What are you doing for dinner?

I don't know. I may get lucky.

Oh, well, no sweat. I'll be up at the Mount Olympus at 8 o 'clock.

Bring her along.

Ciao, sir.

The name is Susan Cooper.

Now, what I want to know is, did any of you all see her on the boulevard last

night about 8 or any other time?

Uh -uh.

I didn't see her.

How about you?

This is the kid who got snuffed in the park last night?

That's right. She look familiar?

No.

She looked like a girl I used to know, but it's not her.

Oh, come on, Gypsy.

I thought all you girls working the boulevard knew who the competition was.

Mr. D 'Angelo.

No, never saw that one before.

Well, Walter, you seem to have a wide circle of acquaintances.

Well, it's from my cub reporter days, Barnaby, you know.

You work the streets, you get to know how to work the street people.

And how to scare them away, it seems.

Yeah, but not too far.

You know, somehow I thought you'd be finished on your missing persons case

they found the body.

So did I, until I met with the girl's father.

Is Mr.

Kingsley there?

Oh, who is this, please?

Gypsy.

Just tell him it's Miss Gypsy.

Darling, I don't think there's going to be enough hamburgers for all of Larry's

hungry pals out there. Oh, no, there's plenty in the freezer. I'll go get it.

Do you know someone named Miss Gypsy?

Miss Gypsy.

Oh, yes. She's a cashier in a restaurant downtown. Probably something to do with

a charge slip. I forgot this.

Hurry up, okay, honey? Yeah.

How the hell did you get my number?

Out of the phone book you keep in the glove compartment.

What do you want?

I was looking for you last night.

I even packed up a couple of other Johns waiting for you to show.

I'm sorry. I was busy.

Yeah, Dave, I know.

I saw you pick up that kid.

What are you talking about? What kid?

Susan. The one who turned up dead in the park.

And I'm talking about money.

I sure could use some.

Well, this is really crazy, Gypsy. I don't know who you saw last night, but

certainly wasn't me.

And you can't prove that you did.

Well, there's a private investigator named Barnaby Jones asking around about

Susan. Maybe he could prove it.

All right.

Take down this number.

Five, five.

I want you to call me tomorrow at exactly 1 p .m.

And I mean exactly 1 p .m., you understand?

Gotcha. 1 p .m.

Bud Katonic, please.

Oh, hey, you didn't get lucky, huh?

I told you, nice girls don't like to go out with cops.

Why do you always drag me to a Greek restaurant? You never have anything but

steak and potatoes anyway.

There's a lot to be said for atmosphere.

Oh, hey.

My nephew's going to give you a big tip after this.

Huh? I want the usual. A steak.

I want it well done, but don't cremate it. And I want a boiled potato, a glass

of wine, the same for him, too.

Oh.

Bonnevie, what a pleasant surprise.

Why don't you sit down?

I hope I'm not intruding.

Your girl backed at the newspaper, so I might find you here.

No, you're not intruding at all.

Dimitri. Oh, what do you have, Bonnevie?

Tomatoes, moussaka?

I'll just have a glass of milk, please.

What's going on, Barnaby?

You still looking for a witness that might have seen that Susan kid?

Yep.

I was wondering how you were getting along with your investigation, Tom. Come

with anything new? No, I'm still flying blind. Look, Mr. Jones, whatever you and

Walt have going, I just assume you didn't help me on this one.

You see, my suspicious little nephew, he thinks that I have you in my pocket in

order for you to solve the case and make him come out a genius.

Well, personally, I don't care who gets the credit. I just want to clear Susan's

name. Barnaby, come on. Let's face it. And all the evidence points to that kid

hustling. Now, why are you banging your head up against the wall?

I don't buy that wall.

I had Betty and Jedediah help me check Susan out. And none of that adds up to a

girl who ever had the time, much less the inclination, to stand on a street

corner and sell herself for money.

All right.

Let's make a wait.

I bet you 50 bucks.

That your kid turns out to be the star trick in the column I'm doing on teenage

hustlers. What do you say?

All right.

Make that a dinner with all the trimmings and you're on.

It's a bet.

Name is Susan Cooper.

Susan Cooper, huh?

Yep, I've seen the face before.

Yes, when?

Today. Yesterday.

Every day since I bought this place three years ago.

I've seen this face hundreds of times.

Poor dumb kids getting in the cars with who knows who to who knows where.

This particular young lady, you've never seen her before?

Oh, she probably works the night shift.

I close at 7, you know, so I don't get a chance to see all the talent.

Then who does, Benny?

There's always somebody around that's wired into what's happening.

Yeah, they come and they go.

One day Lorraine's a queen bee, next day Marcy, Gypsy.

Gypsy. I talked to somebody by that name yesterday.

Now, there's your lady.

If she says she doesn't know this boulevard from one sewer to the next

then it don't rain in Indianapolis in the summertime.

Where do you think I might find her this time of day?

Well, Gypsy, this is the middle of the night.

Last house on Miller Street near the freeway.

A miss.

If you're jiving me the way you were jiving that private cop yesterday, I'm

going to see to it that you are busted every hour on the hour, and then I'm

going to get angry. I'm telling you like it is, man. You believe what you want.

What time is it now?

It's one minute past the last time you asked. It's five after one.

Barnaby, come on in.

Oh, Walt, I seem to be running into you a lot lately.

Yeah, and you seem to know more about street people than I gave you credit

What's this going to be?

convention? Well, Barnaby, looks like the dinner's going to be on you. You

the bet. Oh? Yeah. Come on, Gripsy, tell the gentleman what you told me.

Yeah, where's my 50 bucks?

Right here.

No ticky, no washy.

All right, so I lied to you yesterday.

I did know this Susie, or Susan, or whatever you call her.

She's been on the street for weeks.

For weeks?

That's funny.

I showed that picture to a lot of people, but you're the only one that

have seen it. So?

I'm a very observant person.

Now you guys get out of here.

That 50 bucks Walt promised didn't help your memory, did it?

Oh, Barnaby.

Innuendo is the last resort of a desperate man.

But I'll let that pass by.

What about the night the girl was murdered?

Like I told Mr.

D 'Angelo, Susie and I were hustling for a John.

I got one first and I took off. I didn't see who picked her up.

Yeah, well, what about the other times?

I mean, didn't she ever tell you who her customers were? What they do, where

they go, who, what?

Doctors, lawyers, Indian chiefs, all types out there. You'd be surprised that

they never give you anything but phony names.

Anyhow, the regulars don't want trouble. If you ask me, whoever snuffed the kid

was a one -time weirdo.

Okay? Come on, out.

Where's my 50 bucks?

Here you are, darling. And don't forget to put that on your infant tag.

You don't really believe all that, do you?

Well, something's got a motor running beside that 50 bucks.

And besides, as far as clearing your girl, I mean, forget it.

Why would you lie about that?

I told you exactly 1 o 'clock. It's 1 .10.

I have a schedule to keep.

Okay, okay, so I'm late. You get the money?

Yes.

Meet me at Mulholland Park in 15 minutes. You know the place? We've been

before. I know the place.

15 minutes.

You want to count it? Hurry up.

I've got to be back by 2 o 'clock.

Well, you can at least say hi, sweetie. How's the world treating you and all

that?

Doesn't seem like $5 ,000. $3 ,800 in cash.

That's all I can come up with.

That's all you're going to get. Dave!

I lost my sense of humor shivering in the streets and sleeping in garbage.

I'm not the kind of lady you want to jerk around.

Okay.

I'll have the rest of the money for you in a few days.

But then I want you gone, you understand? Out of the state somewhere

come back. If not, I'm... If not what?

You'll call a cop?

Listen, Dave, there is something that you have to understand.

I'm part of the family now.

Think of me like a daughter.

Only I'm going to be getting a much bigger allowance than your other kids.

Say, a thousand a month? You're going to believe me? Is that what you're going

to do? You're going to believe me?

Paying costs.

So that's why I'm upping the initial payment to $10 ,000.

I'll give you a call. Or maybe I should ask your wife.

My wife!

How much sharper than a serpent's tooth.

I shall be betrayed by my own flesh and blood.

Uh -oh. When I become his flesh and blood, watch out.

What's the matter now?

Oh, what's the matter now, Mr. Innocence? Butter would melt in my

Huh?

Barnaby, nothing personal.

But, Tom, why is he here?

I had to find out about Gypsy's murder from the sports editor at the paper. The

sports editor.

Now, do you enjoy seeing me humiliated?

Sometimes.

Anyway, I didn't tip Mr. Jones. Lieutenant Biddle did.

I also have my sources, Walt.

Pardon me?

Hello, Walt. What kept you?

Don't you start with me now. Same as the tracks you found near Susan's body?

Yeah, see that flaw in the middle ridge there? It's a perfect match.

Come on, Tom, I want to write this thing out. Hang on to that, will you?

What's that about?

According to a new set of tracks they found over there, Gypsy's car...

And the car that belongs to these tracks were parked side by side for a time.

Then whoever it was must have shot Gypsy as she was driving away.

With a .38, got off at least two shots, maybe more.

Well, then if it was the same John that put your girl away, I mean, how does it

figure? Gypsy knew who the killer was all the time, and she was shaking him

down, maybe?

More than maybe.

They found an envelope containing $3 ,800 worth of body.

Oh, so there you are, Barnaby.

Gypsy was right about working the streets with Susan.

I mean, how else would she know who to blackmail?

What the people want is justice, not vengeance.

The truth, not a whitewash.

There's a cancer in our streets that must be cut out, and I'll tell you about

in my next column about teenage hustlers.

That's how it looks from here, W .W. D 'Angelo. What does the W .W. stand for?

Walt Whitman.

His father was a lover of words.

Thank you, Lieutenant Biddle.

Yeah, right.

Bye -bye, John. Thanks.

Well, Barnaby, your hunch was right about Gypsy having a record.

She also has a bunch of aliases, but her real name is Jean Ross.

Numerous arrests serve time for petty theft, more recently for soliciting.

Any relatives?

No. All out of town near St. Louis.

But she did give prison authorities a local contact in case of emergency. It's

friend by the name of Julie Brooks.

Now, she moved from the address that she gave at the time, but I found out where

she works.

Sure. Thomas Paine and all that rights of man jazz was beautiful in his day.

But you don't really go for all that noise about man's natural right to make

revolutions, do you?

Horseradish. You got any?

Uh -oh.

Better hide that.

Oh.

Worried about what I put in my stomach, huh? Well, no, actually, nephew, this is

a reward for you for services rendered.

But I must admit, I was almost tempted to take a bite, right?

Oh, you're doing an article on gourmet restaurants?

All right, come on, come on, you got it?

It isn't what you hoped for.

As you'll see, the telephone company lists only three unit calls made from

Gypsy's phone in the last 30 days.

And none to Susan Cooper's phone in Northridge?

No.

Still, it doesn't hurt your theory that Susan and Gypsy were pals.

It just doesn't help it, that's all.

Wait a minute now. Criminal courts building.

This call was made today. Am I reading it right?

That's right. This afternoon, 1 .10 p .m.

1 .10.

Well, that means that Gypsy made the call after Barnaby and I left her

apartment.

And immediately before she went to meet her killer.

You'll be happy to know the significance of that was not lost on number one

flesh and blood.

Well, what are you telling me? You checked it out?

It's on the second floor of the courthouse.

Yeah, well.

So whose phone is it?

To the public. It's a public phone.

Hooray!

What?

Horseradish. Good. That's what you get for being so smug, wise guy.

Pay the man. Pay the man.

Bye.

You bought the store?

No kidding?

This afternoon.

Mulholland Park. Somebody shot her.

Mulholland.

Had to be a John.

That's the assumption.

But do you have any special reason for thinking so?

Well, after I bought my head together, I tried to get Gypsy straightened out,

too.

And then yesterday, she called me out of the blue.

And said that everything had turned around for her.

And that finally she was going to get off the streets for good.

Why? Had it anything to do with her getting her hands on some money from

A lot of money.

She said it was going to be like, well, you know, an annuity.

Did she give you a name?

Any idea who it is?

No.

I mean, she just joked about it.

But she didn't exactly say who it was.

What did she say?

That's what blew my mind when she told me what the John did for a living

Excuse

me, that's all right. I'm with the phone company. I'm just checking

Thank you

Be good, Walt.

Andy, that phone over there, when it rings, you ever pick it up?

If somebody don't beat me to it.

Well, that phone rang yesterday afternoon, around ten minutes after one.

happen to pick it up or see who did?

Nope. Afraid I can't help you there.

David.

Walt, how are you?

Well, I'm a lot better since I don't let you beat me at golf anymore.

How's Gwen? She split that column that you wrote on the death penalty.

Splendid. Really? I'm very impressed.

Oh, thank you.

You hear gathering material, or...? No, it's a related subject.

I'm looking for a killer.

Look around.

They're all over the place.

Well, this one hasn't been caught yet. It's the guy who killed those two

up in the park.

David, make me a miracle.

Tell me that you were out here in this corridor yesterday afternoon around ten

minutes after one, and you saw the guy that I'm looking for talking on that

phone.

No.

No miracles today.

Listen, we gotta have lunch or better still come over to the house and Gwen

I'll cook you up a half a steer.

That'd be great. It's a deal.

All right. See ya. Say hello to Gwen. Hello.

Wannabe, how did you find out?

Hello, Walt. Find out what? Oh, come on. Tom called you and gave you the tip

about the phone call, huh?

That kid, I'll murder him.

What call?

Oh, well, if you're not here about the call, what are you here for?

You first.

You know, Walt, I think we could move this investigation along much faster if

work together.

What do you say?

I think you're a little worried about losing that vet party.

Come on, what do you got going?

According to what Gypsy told her girlfriend, the man that you figure took

call on that phone does do business with the court.

She said he's a judge.

A judge?

Oh, Your Honor, the court is waiting.

Yeah.

Nope, I can't think of any judge still be in session at ten after one.

Everybody goes to lunch then.

Except maybe Judge Linderman in juvenile.

Judge Linderman.

Judge Linderman, that's new to me.

You say he was still here in the building at ten after one?

Yeah, but it's not a he. It's a she.

Mary Kay Lindeman. Just been appointed.

Mary, huh?

Well, forget that.

Wait, now you said inside the building at ten after one.

Then you didn't mean just those still in session.

Are you saying that you did see one of the judges hanging around at that time?

Kingsley, my own judge.

David Kingsley?

But you told me that the court broke for lunch at 12 .45.

About then.

I had to hang around for some paperwork. Then when I took off to chow down 20,

30 minutes later, I saw him out in the hall here.

Waiting for a phone call, maybe? That phone?

Well, he was waiting for something. I don't know what for.

Hey, has this got something to do with the column you're writing, Walt?

Maybe, Lou.

Only one thing doesn't seem to fit.

How Kingsley could have gotten all the way across town at the same time he was

supposed to be in the afternoon court session that begins at 2.

Well, if you're talking about Tuesday, Kingsley wasn't here at 2.

He wasn't?

Are you sure?

Yeah, he came in about 3.

Said his wife took sick, he had to go home, make sure she was all right.

Lou, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to anybody about this, huh?

I'll tell you why later.

Thanks.

This is Walt D 'Angelo, baby.

How you doing? Are you still breaking hearts like you broke mine?

Walt, it's nice to hear from you.

Hey, are you all right? I've been worried about you.

Me? Why? I've never felt better.

Oh, well, I'm glad to hear that.

I was told that David was late for court because you were ill on Tuesday.

But I guess I heard wrong, huh?

Well, I guess you did. No, I haven't seen a doctor in months. Hi, honey.

Well, I'm glad to hear it.

Anyway, give my regards to the kid.

Okay, bye -bye.

Hey, you're late.

Yes.

The jury was a lot longer than I expected. Who was that?

Walt D 'Angelo. Would you believe?

He's still the same. Can't say hello without flirting.

Is that why he called? To flirt?

Good heavens, you're not still jealous of Walt, are you?

What did he want, Gwen?

Well, to ask about my health, as a matter of fact.

Honest. Someone told him that you were late for court the other day because I

was ill and you had to look after me.

Then again, it could just be an excuse for him to rekindle an old flame.

Oh, come on, darling. You know I'm just teasing.

I know.

But it gives me an idea. I have a case before my bench that I think will...

Might be able to help me with.

David, I cooked a roast.

I'm just going to go down to the paper and have a quick chat with him.

Hold dinner for me, darling. I won't be long.

I want to thank you very much, Mitchie, for staying late and helping me to dig

through those records.

And thank you very much for the photocopies that you made for me.

You kind of remind me of my late husband, George.

Always leaning on me to do things for him. I love to do for men.

That's the kind of woman I am, Barnaby.

Don't mind my calling you Barnaby, do you?

No, no. Oh, and thank you very much for the judge's phone number you got for me.

Do you like to play canasta, Barnaby?

Yes, sometimes.

Okay, great.

Keep in touch.

Hello? Hello, this is Barnaby Jones. Is Judge Kingsley in?

I'm sorry, he left the house some time ago.

Would you like to leave a message?

No, but it's very important that I talk to him. What time do you expect him

back? If it's important, you might be able to reach him over at the Chronicle.

Walt D 'Angelo's office?

Thank you very much.

You ready to throw in the towel yet?

It's got to be in these files somewhere.

But what? What? Why can't I remember?

You know, we've already covered every news story on Kingsley back to the time

when he was first appointed to the bench.

Both his public life and private were totally unblemished.

MacArthur. What? I don't know what, but it's got something to do with the name

MacArthur. Did you come across that name anywhere?

As a matter of fact... Yeah,

yeah. Oh, I love you. Okay, wait a minute.

I'm getting excited.

Here it is. Here it is. Okay.

Kingsley once served as a lieutenant in the United States Army Judge Advocate's

office at Fort MacArthur here in Los Angeles. Ah, just after he was inducted

into the Army, not four years out of law school.

Honey, where's the Army files?

Uh -huh. Well, that mountain starts over here.

Okay. Army judiciary here, subheading Los Angeles area here.

Loose. Loose.

Honey, it's getting dark outside.

You better call it a night, and don't worry about me. I'll be all right. You

know, listen, this is going to take forever if you don't know what you're

so I'm going to get us some coffee and some sandwiches, and I'll be right back,

okay? Will you stop mothering me?

Oh, you love it.

Is

that you,

Walt? Oh, Barnaby.

Are you looking for Walt, too?

Two? Does that mean I'm going to have to stand in line?

Well, Judge Kingsley was here looking for him a few minutes ago.

I sent him on down to the morgue.

I thought he'd be back by now.

Which way is the morgue?

Hello, Walt.

David.

Well, you know, this has really been a day of surprises. Well, your editor said

I'd find you here, but if you're busy, just say the word. No, no, no.

It must be very important to bring you all the way over here to my bailiwick.

So what's up?

Walt, it's about the killer of those two young women.

I'm in trouble about what you said, that you think it might be someone connected

with the court. No, no, no.

All I said was that it was the killer who used the payphone at the courthouse.

Well, the implication was clear.

It got me to thinking about a defendant I had to release on a technicality

recently. He was a sexual deviant named Priestley, preyed on young prostitutes.

I'm not sure, of course, but I think he might possibly be your man.

Oh, come on, David.

You and I have known each other too long to play cat and mouse games with each

other.

Let's cut out the bull, huh?

The real reason why you came over here was to find out how close I'm getting.

I right?

Close to... What are you talking about, Walt? I don't understand.

The call that Gypsy made to that payphone was for you, wasn't it?

Me? No.

You must be crazy.

You remember this?

I don't know what you hope to make out of that.

But it doesn't mean anything.

If you check the trial records, you'll find out that the charges were dropped.

The young lady in question refused to testify and the charges were dropped.

What about the charges against Gypsy that were dropped, Judge?

What's this?

That's Bonnevie Jones. He's also working on the case.

Charges against Gypsy for solicitation. The last three were dropped at your

recommendation. Would you like to explain that?

I don't have to explain anything to you, Mr. Jones.

I don't know what it is you both think you have, but it's circumstantial.

You can't possibly place me at the scene of the crime.

If you haven't got that, you haven't got anything.

Excuse me?

I think we can place you at the scene of the crime.

You can't, Mr. Jones. You're bluffing.

Then you don't mind if the police take a look at your car?

The killer left tire tracks in both instances.

Oh, come on, David, don't do that.

I'm sorry, Walt.

I never meant to hurt anyone, believe me.

Maybe not, but this isn't going to make it go away.

Put the gun away.

You don't understand.

It's all been a... Terrible mistake.

That girl.

She tripped and fell. It was an accident.

And then Gypsy tried to blackmail me.

A man in my position.

I have a wife and a family.

Sons. I can't let you destroy everything I've worked so hard.

Are you sure we'd be destroying a judge?

Think, man.

No matter how or why it happened, the two young women are already dead.

Trying to cover those crimes and more isn't going to solve anything.

David, it's the end of the line.

Time to face the bench.

You don't want to hurt anybody else.