Original subtitles

My God, what happened?

He's been stabbed in the back.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Our potential killer is one of us.

Holy Christmas.

The only reason you come here tonight

is so you can make a fast buck for yourself.

You are an agent.

A financial genius you are not.

If that lunatic so much as hints again

that I put a shiv in his back...

Corrie, my father does not go around knifing people.

Oh, dear God. Oh!

And now, the comedy sensation of 1957!

Let's hear it for Mack and Murray!

Well, look who's here, folks...

God's gift to the medical profession.

My partner, Murray Gruen. Go ahead, laugh. Laugh.

You don't know what it's like livin' with pain.

It isn't that this guy's a hypochondriac,

but he bought his tombstone five years ago.

The kinda jokes you tell, you'll need one before I do.

Last week, he woke up feeling really good.

He called his doctor to find out what was wrong.

And if you had your conscience taken out, it would be minor surgery.

What's that supposed to mean?

Last week in the papers,

"Mack Howard Carries Partner. Story on page 3."

Yeah, well, I'm not the one who's out at the track

when I'm supposed to be rehearsing.

Yeah. You're busy snowin' another young kid with stars in her eyes

while I'm writing the material single-handed.

You're writing it? Come on, Murray.

Why don't you say what this is really about, huh?

It's Trudy, isn't it? No, it's not Trudy.

Come on. Listen, I saw her first.

The hell you did! You stole her!

Stole her? Are you kidding? Hey, look, shorty, I don't need this.

So long, you fugitive from the home for the criminally stupid.

Goodbye, creep. I never see your fat head again, it'll be too damn soon.

That's fine with me. Goodbye, birdbrain.

Please, Mr. Howard. Please, just a few more questions.

Now, because the cassettes of your old routines are so hot...

"Anyway, it's better than two weeks in Philadelphia?"

Ernie.

Ernie, I'm surprised at you. Tell me you didn't write this.

Tell me something. Tell me you found it in your grandfather's trunk.

What about the rumors that you and Murray Gruen might be teaming up again?

You listen to me, young lady.

I don't want to talk about Murray Gruen.

Mack and Murray are over. Forget about it.

But you don't mind taking the money for those videocassettes.

That's another thing. Somebody's making a bloody fortune.

It sure the hell ain't me. I'll tell you that.

But then you're implying that your former partner

might be, say, misappropriating the profits.

I'm not implying anything.

Let me just simply say

that a shark doesn't become an angelfish.

Oh, Mack you shouldn't.

Miss Kline, I'm sure he would much rather that you didn't quote him.

Oh, come on, Farley.

The man hasn't worked in what, 20 years?

Suddenly he winds up buying a resort in the Catskills?

You're a reporter. You figure it out.

Three minutes, Mr. Howard.

Yeah. Mack, I need your signature on these things,

or we're gonna blow those condos in Puerto Vallarta.

What's it gonna cost me this time?

Practically zero.

I got you 90% leverage,

instant turnabout and leaseback.

Straight into positive cash flow.

Yeah. And with the write-down...

Well, it's all right here. Ah, whatever.

I just hope this is better

than those other beauties you got me into.

Al. Al, what's this I hear

about our starlet of the week droppin' out on us?

It's okay, big guy. We got us some bimbo with a talking chimp.

You know how animals always do huge numbers.

Yeah, all over my suit.

Mr. Howard,

that your son and Murray Gruen's daughter

are about to announce their engagement.

Our readers would like to know,

are you going to be attending the party?

Look, I told you I didn't...

Al, get her out of here, will you?

Mr. Howard, like it or not, it's news. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Mack, come on. You better sign these.

Will somebody please tell me

why everybody in the Western world

knows about this damn engagement?

Maybe Murray's using it

to help promote the Hiawatha Lodge.

Yeah, and drive me crazy.

Trudy, you look sensational.

Honey, I'm not gonna be able

to go to that thing tonight.

Sorry, but I got a very important writers' meeting

after the taping.

The car's downstairs, darling.

Oh, and, I found your favorite old tweed jacket.

It's gonna be perfect for you up in the mountains.

Honey, I don't think you quite understand.

This is a very important week.

The ratings are coming out and...

I know that you can explain to Kip and Corrie.

They'll understand. Oh, of course I will, darling.

And by the way, I do happen to have

a locksmith standing by.

Because if you don't come,

don't bother coming back to the apartment.

Thirty seconds, Mr. Howard.

And there's a Phil Rinker on line 4.

Tell him...

Tell him I'll see him at the lodge later tonight.

Yes, sir.

But I am not speaking to what's-his-name. Period.

No wonder your stomach's gone bad.

It probably comes from buyin' this place.

I can't believe Farley would let you do it.

Who let him? Phil, don't you know

aggravation is his life?

That's right.

That's why I keep her around.

Ah, once I get this place fixed up...

...everything will be fine.

Unless it drives you to drink first.

Phil, I'm not self-destructive.

Oh, really?

The way I figure it, either you pay the painter

or the plumber or the electrician.

What it totals out to is

if you want this place to look good,

use the toilet or see what you're doing.

Well, at least, if they shut off the electricity,

I won't have to look at what's-his-name's face.

Oh, come on now, Murray.

You two guys are gonna see each other,

and it'll all come right back.

It's come back.

No. The chemistry, I mean.

The same magic you two guys had

when you were busboys at Grossinger's.

Look at this. It's all in here.

It's all in this book, all my symptoms.

The gas, lower-back pain,

rapid heartbeat, headaches.

I've got four months to live, on the outside.

I always knew that Mack Howard would be the death of me!

Why couldn't I be so lucky

as to get one nice, compact disease

that would have killed me before he got here.

It is only the kids with Jessica.

Yeah. The kids. That's...

At least one good thing come out of it.

My little daughter Corrie met a nice guy,

even though it is what's-his-name's son.

At least, with Jessica here, well,

she got someone to take the place

of her departed mother.

God rest her sainted soul.

Look, Corrie, it will be okay,

no matter what happens.

Kip's right, Corrie.

But what if they're just horrible to each other?

Well, then you and I will go

curl up someplace till it's over.

You remember the deal we made?

Yeah.

They're them, and we're us.

Look, who knows? There may be no problem.

Your fathers may fool us all and get along famously.

Ta-da!

Ah!

Still seein' the glass half full, aren't you, Jess?

Oh, is this... Is... Is this a great old broad, or what?

Oh. It looks like

one of my guests has developed a nervous tic.

Henrietta, could you find

another one of these someplace?

The last 20 years certainly hasn't helped

our host's table manners.

Murray's not holding his seltzer too well tonight.

He usually drinks it straight.

Well, maybe I don't know the proper fork to use,

but I know who I am,

and I ain't never misrepresented myself

as being from anywhere

except the East Bronx.

Who'd have believed it?

You always were a lousy actor.

Damn it. Stop it,

both of you!

I've seen five-year-olds act more grown up.

Look, I am sorry

that Corrie and I got in the way

of your stupid feud,

but, see, we're getting on with our lives.

Wait a minute, Kip.

Anything that my little Corrie wants...

that's fine with me.

That's not the way I heard it, pal.

Well, first off, I'm not your pal, pal.

Daddy. You listen to me, you meatball.

Phil, I thought you could handle these two.

If I wasn't 100% sure

that these two kids were right for each other, you...

You wouldn't find me within 20 light-years of this dump.

Mack, Murray, enough.

Uh, I mean,

it's time that you let

someone else say a few words.

Hear, hear.

Uh, while, unfortunately,

I haven't been representing you

since, uh, well,

since things fell apart,

I never stopped caring for you,

your wives

and your children.

And I want you to know

that I'm thrilled and delighted

to have our little family back together again.

Thanks to the beautiful Trudy

and the estimable Farley Pressman,

a man whose axiom has always been,

"Buy high, sell low."

Oh, no. Wait, now. Just a minute. Just a minute.

You have both done awfully well by my advice.

Oh, sure, sure.

Like the time you put me into the oil drillings, remember?

And then three days later, the bottom fell out.

See how the memory can reinvent. I understand.

All right, all right, hold it. Hold it.

I'd... I'd like to make a toast.

Kip, Corrie.

Trudy and I,

we love you very much.

I'm sorry about tonight, that you got thrown smack dab

in the middle of this stupid family feud.

But, uh, a toast to the two of you.

Good health, happiness,

and a long life together.

Hear, hear.

I'm not drinking any toasts

with any hieving thypocrites.

A thieving hypocrite. Look at you.

Big... television star.

Got your own TV show every night.

With what?

With our jokes from our act.

And if that's not enough,

you makin' all that dough

off our videocassettes.

Me? Yeah, you!

What are you talkin' about?

I never saw a nickel on that stuff.

It was you who, after all this time,

come up with a lot of scratch and finally invested

in something you know nothing about.

Mack, fellas, I have told you.

There is no money in the damn things.

The profits are all in the rentals,

which, unfortunately, we can't touch.

Believe me. It's all just pie in the sky.

Farley, that's not true. I have the figures.

There are guys who... Phil. Phil, excuse me?

Excuse me. You are an agent.

A financial genius you are not.

Murray, don't do this.

Please don't.

Phil, it's not your business.

Maybe you would like to make it your business.

Murray.

Yeah. Yeah.

Probably the only reason you come here tonight

is so you can make a fast buck for yourself

by putting me and him back together again.

Well, it's not gonna work.

Do you hear me? It's not gonna work!

You're damn right it's not gonna work.

No. It's not gonna work.

Excuse me.

You know me. I always like to exit on a laugh line.

I'm gonna hit the sack.

Well...

if Murray doesn't apologize to that sweet little guy,

I'm gonna take a hike.

Oh.

I'm afraid it's a...

...somewhat less festive group

than we'd hoped for.

Well, uh,

there's always the chance

that it'll look better

through a brandy glass.

Shall we?

Yeah.

The last thing that Doris said to me before she died was

that she still hoped

that Mack and Murray would make peace with each other.

Oh, Jessica. You have no idea

how I have tried over the years

just to get them talking to each other.

And as for reviving their act,

well, I'm afraid that kind of material

just wouldn't work with today's audiences.

Yes, but the videotapes of their shows...

Oh, that's largely hype.

I suspect a flash in the pan.

Help! Help!

Oh! Help! Help me!

Oh! Oh! Help!

Oh, it hurts! Somebody!

Daddy! Daddy, what is it?

Murray. Murray.

Murray, my God, what happened?

Norma, it hurts. Oh, my God, it hurts.

He's been stabbed in the back.

What?

Yes. Yes, the Hiawatha Lodge.

Take it easy.

Please.

Sit down right over here.

Dr. Worth is coming right over.

That's good. But no hospitals.

People have a strange way

of not coming out of hospitals.

You know what I mean? Murray, just relax.

Oh, and another thing.

No police. That's all we need.

"Come to Hiawatha Lodge

"and get stabbed with a knife."

How fortunate that he is feeling so little pain.

Hey, it's no big deal.

I've been stabbed in the back plenty times.

Daddy, you've got to tell us what happened.

Murray, did you see who did it?

I don't want to accuse anybody falsely.

I think it best if we don't disturb it.

Come on, you either saw him or you didn't.

Excuse me.

All right. I checked.

All the doors and windows are locked

from the inside.

What are you saying? One of us?

Murray, are you saying

that you know

who the person was who attacked you?

Well,

no. See,

I was in... Ow, ow.

I was in there,

and I was

startin' to brush my teeth.

And I was lookin'

in the mirror,

and it felt like this shadow behind me.

It was... Oh, there was, like, a flash of color, and...

so I thought it was Norma.

And then I felt this pain in my back.

Oh!

The flash, what color was it?

Oh.

Oh, it was like a deep red.

Oh. Oh.

Wait a minute here.

Did I say it was you? I didn't say it was you.

I didn't say I saw whose face it was.

You know what I mean?

Yeah, I know what you mean. I know exactly what you mean.

Look, I was in our room watching television.

What... What the hell are you all looking at me for? Are you...

Are you crazy?

We're getting out of here.

And somebody tell this lunatic

to control his mouth, or I'll sue him for the whole nine yards.

Let's go.

Yeah.

Mack, for heaven's sakes. Oh.

Jessica, please. Save it, will ya?

I am leaving here with or without Trudy.

That man is commit table.

Yes, but somebody did try to kill him.

Yes. And if it had been me,

you can be damn sure I would have finished the job.

But he could have been mistaken about the color.

Oh, Jessica, forget it.

Mack, he didn't actually accuse you.

Okay, okay.

But I'll tell you one thing,

if that lunatic so much as hints again

that I put a shiv in his back,

I am outta here, okay?

I don't know.

It's just the thought of someone coming up

behind him with a knife.

I know. Stuff like that doesn't happen

to people you know, people you're related to.

They're different from us, Kip.

I mean, not just older, but from another place.

Another place?

What I'm saying is,

maybe we aren't in a position to know

how they might react to old hurts.

Your dad's so emotional,

so sort of theatrical.

And, uh... And yours isn't.

Corrie, my father does not go around knifing people.

How can you be so sure?

Because...

Because I happen to have known him

for a couple of years. That's why.

Yeah, well, in case you've forgotten,

he hasn't exactly got the world's greatest alibi.

Well, I'll tell you something. My father doesn't care enough about your...

Do you hear us?

Look, Corrie, we weren't there

when it happened.

We don't know.

It's... It's gonna be whatever it is, but...

we can't let that be our problem, okay?

Come here.

Absolutely everything has been left untouched.

The knife on the floor there,

the toothbrush. The open toothpaste tube on the sink.

Right.

Gee whiz. I mean, wait till I tell my mom

that really is Mack Howard out there.

I mean, and, of course, you write mystery books.

Of course, she doesn't read half as much as I do,

so I may have to explain who you are a little.

Oh, yes. Yes, I understand. Uh, Chief...

Acting Chief Wylie B. Ledbetter, ma'am.

And what do your friends call you?

Acting Chief Wylie B. Ledbetter, ma'am.

Uh, I'd better start gatherin' up evidence.

Uh, Chief! Um...

Uh, would you like to borrow my handkerchief?

Possible fingerprints.

Oh, yeah. Uh...

You know, uh,

the thing of it is, ma'am,

uh, see, Chief Swenson and me...

He's in the hospital havin' some of that...

elective surgery.

Well, the chief and me,

mostly we just write,

you know, parking tickets.

I mean, a few drunk-and-disorderlies.

Maybe, once in a great while, a speeder.

Chief,

I think that you can begin

with certain assumptions.

Oh, yeah, absolutely.

I mean, for instance, I think it's very unlikely

that anyone broke into a house full of people

in order to kill one of them.

Oh, sure. Definitely. Mm-hmm.

Which means that,

whether it was Mack Howard who used that knife or not,

it's fairly certain

that our potential killer is...

one of us.

Holy Christmas.

This ointment should prevent any infection, Murray.

How are you holdin' up, Wylie?

Okay, I guess, Doc.

Chief Swenson certainly picked the wrong time

to have his hemorrhoids fixed.

Uh, Mr. Gruen,

uh, this seems kind of crazy.

You say that you saw someone sneak up behind you

and stab you in the back,

and you don't wanna press charges?

I never actually seen who it was.

You think if I knew who did it, I wouldn't say?

Hey. Hey, Chief.

Uh, how about you don't have to...

tell too much to the press about this. You know what I mean?

How much would that be exactly?

Murray, you're a lucky man.

The wound was superficial.

Just missed anything vital.

Norma, have him take one of these every four hours.

And I'll write a prescription.

Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am?

Uh, it might be useful to get

some statements, Chief.

You know, where people were at the time of the stabbing,

what they heard,

who they were with.

That is a great idea. You...

Um, you wouldn't happen to have a pencil, would you?

And maybe, uh, a little piece of paper?

Um...

Damn it.

Trudy, what did I tell you, huh?

I knew it. I just knew it.

Now I'm caught up in that banana's paranoid fantasy.

Dad, would you please?

No, no, no, no, no.

I said I was in the den with Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm sorry, Mr. Pressman. Uh...

Well, let's see what we have here.

Now, Miss Lewis,

Miss Gruen, Mr. Kip Howard...

and, of course, Mr. Mack Howard,

uh, you all claim you were in your own bedrooms

when Mr. Gruen was attacked.

No, I'm... I'm not claiming that, Officer.

That's where I was.

I mean, uh...

Mrs. Howard,

you said you were in the kitchen.

And Mr. Pressman was... In the den...

...with Mrs. Fletcher, right.

Okay.

Well, that just leaves Mr. Philip Rinker to get a statement from.

Well, uh, Mr. Rinker is gone, Chief,

and his overcoat and his overshoes are

missing from his room.

What about his car? He doesn't drive.

He took a taxi from the train station.

Phil attacked my father?

No. No way. Not Phil.

I... I agree.

Uh, the man is barely capable of anger,

much less violence.

But why would he just take off like that?

Well,

if he's on foot, he hasn't gotten very far.

Could he have gone into town to catch a train?

Uh, Chief, perhaps you could

have one of your officers check the train station?

We haven't got any officers, ma'am.

Chief Swenson and me are it.

But I could have my mom go take a look.

Oh, that's great. That's terrific.

Where's your jail, in your basement?

8-to-5, the kid was an Eagle Scout.

Tell you another thing.

When I was a girl,

nobody went around gettin' stabbed in their own house.

Not by their own friends. No, sirree.

And he never turned up at the depot?

All right, thank you.

No, no, no. You're doing just fine, Wylie.

I'll talk to you later. Fine. Bye.

Let me guess.

The Cooperville constable can't find Phil.

I'm afraid not.

They're sending out an all-points bulletin.

Jessica, this just doesn't make any sense.

That sweet little guy would

no more attack Murray

than he would anyone else.

And out there all night in the cold.

I know.

Oh, dear. You're out of sugar.

Oh, the canister's just inside the storeroom.

Good. In the cabinet.

Norma, I wonder,

could there have been something from the past

between Murray and Phil?

Some animosity? An old hurt?

Good Lord.

Jessica?

Jessica, are you all...

Oh, dear God.

Oh!

"Murray, I'm sorry I stabbed you,

"but I couldn't take your insults anymore.

"I'm so ashamed. Phil."

Here's a letter that he wrote

to Murray last year.

Hmm. I wonder where he got the rope from.

I remember seeing some rope in here.

Yes. Here it is.

Well, I'm no handwriting expert,

but I'm pretty certain

that these two notes were written by the same person.

Look at this rope.

It looks like somebody cut off a piece of it.

Sure seems to be the same all right.

It could have been cut with this knife here

and then the remaining rope put back in the cupboard.

Sure. Sure. And then he stands

on the stool

and ties the rope around his neck

and then kicks the stool away.

Well, uh, I won't be needing your hanky this time, ma'am.

Well, I guess that explains

the whole shootin' match.

He probably died around midnight,

give or take a few hours.

What a waste.

Well, I looked everywhere.

Phil's not up by the lake or anywhere on...

What?

What happened?

Murray? No.

It's Phil. He's dead, Farley.

Oh, my God.

Suicide.

Mrs. Fletcher found the body

hanging from the rafters in the storeroom.

Storeroom?

What storeroom?

And why? Why would he?

Uh, ma'am?

Look, I know you think it's funny

that he was wearing his overshoes

and his overcoat over his P.J.'s.

But you were in that storeroom.

There's no heat in there.

It's much more than that, Wylie.

Mr. Rinker was a talent agent.

He spent a lifetime dealing with volatile personalities

like Mack and Murray.

I mean, it makes no sense

that a barb from Murray would drive him to commit a murder.

Well, in the note, it says...

I know what the note said,

but Phil had thicker skin than that.

So, you're sayin' that...

I am suggesting that it's possible

that someone may have committed a murder.

But we have the note, in his own handwriting,

and the rope,

and the attempted murder weapon and this knife.

Wait. No!

No, not Phil.

Phil didn't stab me.

It-It was...

I mean, I think it was Mack.

But not Phil.

Why, Murray?

Why not Phil?

Because Phil wouldn't... Phil...

Oh, Jess, could you hand me a couple aspirin?

I don't even remember what I said to him.

Daddy, you mustn't torture yourself.

Thank... Thank you.

Look, I loved that old guy.

Honey, I'm...

so sorry about how terrible this is

for your big weekend.

Kip and I will be fine, Daddy.

The important thing is that you're okay.

Who, Mr. Howard? Oh, yeah, he's real nice.

Yeah, he's almost like a regular person.

Well, yeah, of course I took statements.

Yeah, and I got the lab report too.

Oh, I'll be right with you, ma'am.

No, I wasn't mumbling.

And there are no loose ends.

Look, Mr. Rinker stabbed Mr. Gruen,

and then he hung himself.

And that is it. Case closed.

Now, why don't you just go...

uh...

lay back and enjoy your operation?

I gotta go.

Yeah, thanks.

I would've thought he'd been proud of me.

Well, maybe he's a little envious.

I mean, this is your case.

You suppose?

Well, ain't that a hoot? I mean, him envious of me?

Mm. Uh, that lab report,

was there anything about fingerprints

on any of those knives?

Uh, no, ma'am,

and there are none on the note either,

except on the very edges where we held it.

I guess Mr. Rinker must have worn gloves.

To write a suicide note?

Now, ma'am, there is no need

to go complicating things.

It's-It's... What do they call that? Open and shut.

Now, I gotta run.

Can I give you a ride down to the lodge?

Wylie, I have discovered something.

Sorry, ma'am, but if I don't get down there

and get Mr. Howard's autograph before he leaves,

my mom will never forgive me.

It would've been awful too,

a big star like him going to jail

for attempted murder.

Not an attempted murder, Wylie.

A successful one.

Mr. Rinker was murdered.

Now, ma'am, don't get started again.

He killed himself!

I'm afraid not.

I made some measurements in the storeroom.

And given Mr. Rinker's height,

the length of the rope,

and the distance from the floor

of the storeroom up to the rafter,

Mr. Rinker's feet couldn't possibly have stretched

down to the stool

which he supposedly was standing on

and kicked away.

Now, may I see that lab report?

Well, sure.

It's not gonna be much help.

Thanks.

Ah, let me see. Here we are.

Second paragraph.

Exhibit "B", the knife Murray was stabbed with.

"Traces of dried white household enamel

"embedded in wooden handle grip."

I figured somebody used it to scrape paint.

With a handle?

Mack's bedroom.

Oh, God.

I feel so responsible for all this.

Mom, there's no way you could have known this would happen.

He's right, Trudy.

Now, look, Officer,

if Phil Rinker didn't stab Murray,

then whoever did

murdered Phil Rinker. Right?

Not necessarily, Mack.

The killer and Murray's assailant

may be two different people.

You're... You're kidding?

Then it could have been Mack who did it.

Damn it. Corrie, you are determined

to believe the worst about him, aren't you?

Corrie and Kip, settle down, the two of you, huh? Just take it easy.

Corrie, I don't believe that it was Mack.

Then who?

I think it was someone who felt

he had the most to lose

by you marrying Kip,

someone who is so desperate

to break you two apart

that he was able to find the courage

to stab himself in the back.

Jessica, that's insane.

I was stabbed in the back at the sink

while I was brushing my teeth.

Well, then you would have seen

his reflection in the mirror,

unless your eyes were closed

and your head was down.

That's it.

My eyes were closed.

Even as a kid, I could never stand

to look at myself in the mouth.

But you said that you saw

a flash of color.

Murray,

isn't it true

that the way you saw the color of Mack's bathrobe

and determined that he was alone and without an alibi

was by looking through the peephole

that you had bored between your two bedrooms

before you inflicted the knife wound on yourself?

Yeah. Yeah.

Daddy, how could you do such a thing?

Oh, Corrie. I-I did it for you.

I-I did it because...

It's a lie.

I did it for me.

Jessica, it was just the way you said.

I was lookin' through the peephole,

saw Mack in his robe.

He was lookin' at the tube,

just like I figured he would.

He was alone,

and I had this plan.

See, I saw this movie on the late show

where this guy,

Robert Montgomery or one of those guys, you know,

he suspected his wife was having an affair

with his best friend,

so he killed himself

with the knife stuck in a door,

just the way I set it up.

And this way,

he framed his friend for the murder.

Oh! Help!

Can you believe it?

What kind of a fruitcake

would go around stabbing himself in the back?

And after all that you'd been through with Mack.

And I guess Corrie marrying Kip

was just too much for you, right, Murray?

The thought of sharing a grandson with him...

I had to put a stop to it.

Yeah, then I thought, if Corrie married him,

every time she went

to his folks' house and they'd...

tear up a bagel together,

she... she'd say, "How can I be here...

"with a man who tried to murder my father?"

Oh, Daddy.

Then when you told me that Phil was dead...

Wow. I didn't know what to do.

I wanted to confess.

I wanted to tell you the truth, but I was...

I was afraid that you'd never talk to me again,

and I love you so much.

Oh, Corrie, daughter, can you ever forgive me?

I do, Daddy.

I do.

That fruitcake. He could've killed himself.

Oh, I doubt that, Mack.

What Dr. Worth said

about the knife missing anything vital.

Wait a minute.

Phil's note. The suicide note.

Probably a forgery.

Someone went to a great deal of trouble

to cover up a murder.

But what troubles me is

who would want to see

a dear, good-hearted, harmless man like that dead?

You want to know why, huh?

I'll tell you why.

'Cause Phil caught him in the act.

Sticking a knife in his own back.

Incredible.

So, Murray, the rocket scientist,

runs it through what passes for a brain,

and he decides, "Got no choice.

"Phil's gotta go." Oh, for God's sake.

Mack, I don't think that's what happened.

That's the exact same kind of dopey, warped stories

he used to make up

when we was workin' together

and he would miss rehearsal.

And he would blame, like it's my fault

instead of admitting that he was out with some bimbo...

You got it backwards, pal.

You're the one with all the dumb excuses and the lies.

Look, Jessica, I don't need this.

And in spades for me.

Murray and Mack,

will you be quiet? Sit down and listen.

Now, the only way we're going to get

to the bottom of how Phil was murdered

is when the two of you start talking to one another

like civilized people.

I suppose some good's gonna come out of all this.

I just hope that Corrie

and Kip and I

will never let their fathers

get within 50 miles of each other

ever again.

If only because of their diets.

They're both eating as if it's going out of style.

Don't knock it, Jessica.

With their mouths full, they can't talk to each other.

Strike that. It never stopped Murray.

Well, did you get it?

I can't find it, Mr. Pressman.

It's tarragon. It's probably a little jar.

Wylie, what did the telephone company say?

Oh, um, the only long distance call yesterday

was to New York City at 10:05 p.m.

A company called Vintage Video Distributing,

but there's no record of who made the call.

So, what we're left with is

that one of us is a killer.

And lucky us.

We all get to spend another night together.

Well, now, don't you ladies worry yourselves.

I plan on spending the night here if necessary.

Oh.

Actually, I expect to apprehend the perpetrator before bedtime.

You know who it is?

Well, uh, not exactly, but...

you know, these things are usually

just a matter of, you know,

logic and routine police procedure

and like that.

Uh-oh. This bulb is burnt out.

Oh. Here, I'll get you one.

I don't know about you, Jessica,

but our intrepid young constable

doesn't do a whole lot for my sense of security.

On the other hand,

he seems to have matured significantly

since last night.

Well, considering his starting point,

I hardly find that reassuring.

Thank you, Farley.

Tell me, in round numbers,

how much do you think you've embezzled

from Mack and Murray over the years?

What?

Especially recently, from the videocassette sales.

Is it, uh, 2 million? 3 million?

Jessica, where in the world did you come up with that?

Well, I should have arrived at it

the same way that Phil Rinker did,

from hearing Mack and Murray complain

more than once

about how little they'd received

from the cassette sales.

Perhaps if I had,

Phil would still be alive.

Jessica, may I remind you

that my qualifications as a business manager

and my reputation for integrity

are without parallel

in the entertainment field.

Phil probably thought so too,

until last night

when he discovered otherwise

a short time before you killed him.

Is this some sort of joke?

That was always your problem, Farley.

You never could tell the difference

between a custard pie and a banana peel.

Mack.

Hey, Farley!

Just like old days, huh?

Where there's a Mack, there's a Murray.

You know, a funny thing happened to us

on the way to the videocassette store.

An old friend started to cheat us.

Oh, boys, boys.

You're not gonna be taken in

by this woman's fantasies?

Tell us about the light bulb, Farley.

What? All right, Jessica, why don't you tell him?

I'm afraid you gave yourself away, Farley.

This morning, when we were gathered outside

after Phil's body had been discovered,

you came back supposedly from searching the property.

Supposedly? I was looking for him.

You asked, "What storeroom?"

As if you'd never been inside it.

When actually, you'd had to have searched the cabinets

in order to find the clothesline

you used to hang Phil.

No, no.

That's how you knew the light bulbs were

behind the sugar canister.

Ah.

Yes.

And if this hadn't burned out...

Actually, it's perfectly good.

I loosened it.

At first, there didn't seem to be any reason

for Phil to have been murdered.

But then I remembered some things that were said

last night at dinner

about those, uh, videocassettes.

Mack. Fellas,

I have told you.

There is no money in the damn things.

The profits are all in the rentals,

which, unfortunately, we can't touch.

Believe me. It's all just pie in the sky.

Farley, that's not true. I have the figures.

There are guys who... Phil. Phil, excuse me?

Excuse me. You are an agent.

A financial genius you are not.

The way Phil looked at you didn't mean a lot at the time,

but then it started to make sense.

He'd begun to realize

that the last thing in the world you wanted

was for Mack and Murray to be

in the same room together

to continue that argument.

Yeah, because if we began to compare notes,

we might have put two and two together.

You've been feeding our feud for years

just to keep us apart.

You ripped us off for what,

the last 30 years?

God, Farley.

Several minutes before Murray wounded himself,

someone here at the lodge

placed a call to a Manhattan videocassette distributor.

I'm sure it was Phil.

It was before the law arrived.

I was just passing his room,

and he stopped me. He said that he wanted

to talk to me,

that he'd found out the truth,

or at least a part of it

from a friend in the distributing firm.

That's when you killed him.

Well, he demanded that I go to both of you

and make a clean breast of it,

make full restitution.

You see, it's been going on for a long time, I...

Before you broke up the act, it was...

It was just a few thousand... at first.

And I meant to pay it back.

But then I... It was another 10 here

and then a 20 there and...

You forged their signatures on checks.

Yes.

So writing Phil's suicide note wasn't terribly difficult,

not after 30 years.

It may not have been the first time.

Oh, man.

When the videocassette deal came up,

I sensed that my timing was right,

that this might really take off.

So I faked your signatures on powers-of-attorney,

and I set up a dummy corporation.

And you skimmed most of that money for yourself.

And all these years, I've been scratchin' for a buck. Wow.

I never meant to hurt Phil.

But everybody was with Murray

or in the den waiting for the police.

I never meant to hurt him.

I offered him money.

I offered him anything.

But he just looked at me...

like I was vermin.

He said that he couldn't.

He said that... He said that he loved you guys too much.

I'm sorry.

I'm-I'm so sorry.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Hold it, guys. Hold it. Thank you very much.

Good evening and welcome to our show.

Got a wonderful program for you.

But before we get underway

with our regular show,

I got a little introduction I wanna make.

I want you to make him feel welcome, okay?

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'd like you to meet him right now.

A very old friend of mine.

His name is, uh... What's his name?

Let's make him feel at home. Mr. Murray Gruen!

Hello, Mack.

Welcome. Stand over here, Murray. Why?

Well, you know, 'cause you talk like this.

If I stood there and you're talking here,

I couldn't hear you there.

How about that? They remembered, huh? We remember!

Yeah, and you owe me three million bucks.

Well, so long, folks.

No. No, no. No, no. You stay here.

I never thought I'd see it.

- Of course I'm here. - No, you're not, and I can prove it.

- Prove it. - Are you in Philadelphia?

You will be back in time

for Kip and Corrie's wedding, won't you, Norma?

Well, I'll try, but you never know.

I might just get lucky

and meet Mr. Right on the Champs-Élysées.

...not in San Francisco. You're not in Pittsburgh.

If you're not there, you gotta be

someplace else, right?

Right. If you're someplace else, you can't be here.

Right.

Oh. Let's go, folks.

More! More!

Well, actually, I am here.

And, Mack,

I gotta be here in this town.

You see, I met this...

I met this broad here in this town, and...

she kinda expects me...

to take her on a honeymoon.

Honeymoon?

Honeymoon?

Oh! That's great.

A honeymoon!