Original subtitles

That's a pretty lousy suggestion, Mrs. Fletcher. Murder's lousy too, Mr.

Fields.

Night on Murder, she wrote. Are you saying that anyone can file a lawsuit

willy-nilly against anyone they please, anytime they please?

Well, it's not quite that simple. First, you have to hire a lawyer. Start moving

your head. You have a pinched vertebrae, remember?

Thirty years he gave that company. My father is dead because of you. Step

forward, number two.

Me? Yes, you, number two. Step forward.

You drive careful now.

Yeah, right.

Hold it!

What

the

hell are you doing? Don't you hear the siren? They know you're out.

We gotta get out of here. Ditch this van.

Dummy.

I'll run that chopper, Eddie!

Keep going or I'll blow your head off.

Eddie!

More tea, Mrs. Fletcher?

No, no, no. More, thank you, Fred.

Ma'am, there's a very nice lady standing over there carrying one of your books,

and she says she'd like your autograph.

Oh, I'd be delighted.

This is very nice of you. She reminds me of my grandmother.

Oh, Mrs.

Fletcher, this is a thrill.

Really. Why, thank you. I've read every one of your books. Love them all.

And what is your name?

Hester. To Hester would be fine.

Oh, my mother's going to be so excited.

She's a big fan of yours, too.

Do you still live in Cabot Cove, Maine? And I wouldn't dream of moving.

698 Candlewood Lane.

Yes, how did you know?

It's typed right on the summons.

Summons? Thanks again, Jessica.

I knew you were going to be just as nice as your picture.

What did I tell you?

Isn't she the sweetest thing?

Fred, get yourself a new grandmother.

My, my, my dear.

Well, surely they can't be serious.

Well, they're serious all right, Mrs. Fletcher. Whether they have a case or

not is an entirely different matter.

Look, Mr. Dandridge, I'm a reasonably intelligent woman, but when it comes to

a legal summons or the fine print in my insurance policy with you, I...

I'm a little bit confused as to where I stand.

Let me explain it to you.

Six years ago, you assisted the authorities in a murder investigation

which led to the arrest and conviction of a man named Edward Stone.

Yes, I remember the case.

Well, Stone died in an attempted prison break last month, and now his daughter,

Geraldine Stone, has filed a $50 million wrongful death suit against you.

She claims that your participation in the investigation was instrumental in

her father's conviction and that his death was the result of wrongful

imprisonment based upon erroneous evidence.

But that is ridiculous.

Well, of course it is. We have 30 days in which to answer.

Answer what?

The complaint.

But there is nothing to answer.

This is pure fabrication.

Well, of course it is, but we still have to answer it.

Wait a minute. Are you saying that anyone can file a lawsuit willy-nilly

against anyone they please, anytime they please?

Well, it's not quite that simple. First, you have to hire a lawyer, though I

would suspect that this one is working on a contingency basis.

Charlie Cosmo gives even shysters a bad name.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Dandridge, but I refuse to dignify this travesty.

I'll have to leave it in your hands.

I'm sure this will never even come to trial.

Charlie would rather settle than fight any day. So if his figure's low enough,

I'll just give him something to end the nuisance.

Settle? Oh, no, that would be admitting that he was right. No, absolutely not.

Mrs. Fletcher, I know how you feel.

I don't think you do.

Well, ultimately, this comes down to dollars and cents. I mean, none of us

wants the expense or the inconvenience of a long, drawn-out trial. So suppose

that I talk to Charlie, see where he's coming from.

You do that, Mr. Dandridge.

Meantime, I'm going to have a chat with Miss Geraldine Stone and find out where

she's coming from.

Mrs. Fletcher, I don't think that's such a good idea. On the contrary, Mr.

Dandridge, I think it's the best idea I've had all morning.

Come on, Mr.

Kleinschmidt. The appropriation was killed in committee on your

recommendation, and you know it.

Sir, nobody is trying to nail anyone.

I just want a straight answer.

If I'd wanted to talk to your PR guy, I would have called your PR guy.

All right, all right, fine.

Excuse me for bothering you. Earth Now will be on the stands next Tuesday. You

can read all about it.

Pardon me, Miss Stone.

Yeah, that's me.

I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher, I'm very busy right now.

Yes, I can see that.

Miss Stone, I'd like to know why on earth you're filing this lawsuit against

me. I think it speaks for itself.

No, I'm afraid it doesn't.

I'm sorry that your father is dead.

but he was sent to prison for killing a man. On trumped-up evidence created by

you. No, that's not true.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher, I don't think we should be talking about this. This is

something for the courts to decide.

Yes, just as they decided to send your father to prison, not me.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm very, very busy right now, okay? So would you please leave, or

I'm going to have to ask somebody to make you leave.

No,

that won't be necessary.

Stone. Jerry. Oh, hi.

Did I catch you at a bad time?

Yeah, very.

Justin, she was here.

Who?

Mrs. Fletcher.

I didn't know what to say to her.

You don't have to say anything, darling. That's what you pay your lawyer for.

I just feel so sleazy.

For what? It's not gonna cost her anything. Just her insurance company.

Yeah, I know, but it's... It's just that... Jerry, this is no time to

illusion her.

Believe me, the night we opened Justin's restaurant, you'll forget all about

this. Gotta run. Here comes the Grand Dragon. See you tonight. I'll bring home

some cheesecake.

I trust, Mr. Fields, that your duties here are not interfering with your

personal life. Sorry, Mr. Von Steuben, a personal emergency.

Involving your banker.

Sir? I am a tolerant man, Fields, even forbearing, but I am not amused by

pastry chefs with delusions of grandeur.

Sorry, sir, you've lost me. Yes, just the thing I hope to avoid.

I am not amused by your heretofore vain attempts to raise the capital to fund

your own restaurant.

Sir, I assure you... And I assure you I will enforce your contract with every

means available to me. I do not relish seeing my clientele spirited away by

some ambitious employee.

You are a competent chef, Fields, but a hopeless businessman, as your two

previous bankruptcies attest to.

Do I smell something burning?

Stay very calm, Patricia, and answer my questions slowly and quietly.

And if you can manage a little catching your throat every once in a while,

that's great. Probably don't overdo it and stop moving your head. You have a

pinched vertebrae. Remember?

Excuse me.

Well, what do you say?

How are you doing, Ray?

It's here early.

Isn't that a little bit much even for you? Nurse, orderly, wheelchair?

Yeah, I tried to get a doctor, too, only all of my really good guys are out of

town testifying. So, what brings you here, as if I couldn't guess?

Charlie, that complaint against J.B. Fletcher is a sack of chicken feathers,

and you know it. Oh, I don't think a jury will see it that way. Have you met

the lady? I hear she's a real busybody.

We're not gonna settle. Who's talking about settling? We're talking $50

million here. So it takes three or four years to get on the docket.

So what?

I mean, for numbers like that, I've got the patience of Job.

So do we.

I'm on my way right now to see the detective on the case, Lieutenant Lewis.

You've got yourself a long trip. Lewis died.

Last year, heart attack.

Who you really ought to talk to is the state's chief witness.

Angelo Vitello, only I'm not going to let you do that.

Not just yet.

What are you talking about?

It's all here, Ray. I took his deposition last week at his home. You

and Mrs. Fletcher might want to look that over, and then we'll have a talk.

Hey.

Nice seeing you.

Mrs. Fletcher? Yes.

Hi, Sergeant Paulson.

You probably don't remember me. I worked with Lieutenant Lewis on the Eddystone

murder case. Oh, yes, yes, of course. Nice to see you again.

I don't blame you for not remembering me. I was a size 36 back then. That was

right before my wife left me, and I was passed over for sergeant for three

straight times.

Kind of, you know, went to my waistline a little bit.

Yes, yes, yes, of course. Well, uh... I guess they told you about the lieutenant

dying last year?

Yes, I was so sorry to hear that. Me too. He was my rabbi.

You know, guardian angel.

I kind of miss the guy.

Well, anyway, what can I do for you?

Well, I'm not really quite sure. You see, I wanted to review the case with

him.

The fact is, Sergeant, I am being sued.

No kidding?

What for?

Well, Edward Stone's daughter claims that my involvement in the case led to

her father's conviction.

Well, she sure has got that right. We couldn't have done it without you.

Yeah, well, that isn't exactly what I wanted to hear.

Believe me, Lewis didn't have a clue until you put him on the right track.

Oh, gummy bear? Oh, no, no, thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher? Oh, Mr. Dandridge. We have to talk. Now.

Sergeant, this is my attorney, Raymond Dandridge. How do you do? Sergeant,

would you excuse us for just a moment?

Oh, sure. It's time for my lunch break. If you need to see those files, just say

the word, okay? Thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher, we have trouble, serious trouble.

Do you remember a man named Angelo Vitello?

Oh, yes, of course. He was the cab driver who picked up Edward Stone late

that night, just a block from the murder scene. A pretty important witness, would

you say?

Oh, yes. He was the key to the case.

I was afraid you were going to say something like that. You see, Mr.

Vitello has suddenly had a change of heart.

He says the only reason that he identified Edward Stone was because you

talked him into it.

And he says that you paid him $5,000 to lie under oath.

Frankly, Mrs. Fletcher, this is a terrible idea.

So you keep telling me.

Would you please wait?

Now, I want you to know I don't believe the man's accusation, not for a moment.

Well, thank you. Still, you know, his statement is very specific.

Less that he's an out-and-out liar.

He is.

But you also said he was a very charming gentleman, open, cheerful, very likable.

Yes, but that's what troubles me. I mean, how could he make this accusation

when he knows that it's false?

uh yes mrs vitello i'm mrs vitello my name is jessica fletcher this is mr

dandridge i've come to see your husband oh he's he's busy right now please i've

come such a long way would you at least Tell him that I'm here.

It's very important.

Thank you.

We have another sentence. Place that comma.

Susie, your life is first.

Place the comma after lobsters and before don't. I'm sorry, but Angelo

can't see you right now.

He's taking a nap.

Oh. Look, he hasn't been feeling well lately.

Next time, call first, okay?

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

Phrases that are often sentence interrupters.

Italian ice.

Italian ice.

Well, she was telling the truth about one thing anyway.

He's not well. He's at least 40 pounds lighter than when I remember him. And

they've got him on obstacle.

Mrs. Fletcher. Jessica.

Please, I know how upset you are, but will you leave this to me? I'm sorry,

but I can't do that.

Would you mind giving me a lift to the police station? I'd like to go through

the files.

Here you go, Mrs. Fletcher. Oh, thank you.

Mrs.

Fletcher, I don't know if you remember me. Oh, but of course I do, Miss

Stevenson. How nice to see you again. Thank you.

You know, technically, you really shouldn't be reviewing those files, not

without a court order.

Well, on the other hand, I shouldn't be accused of suborning perjury either. I

presume you've talked to Sergeant Paulson. I asked him to call you.

And for the record, I don't believe Vitello's accusation. Well, thank you.

On the other hand, it's a pretty serious charge. I can't just ignore it. It's not

just a civil suit now. It involves a possible criminal offense.

Oh, how well I know that.

You know, when I prosecuted Edward Stone, my case...

quite frankly, rested on two things, the circumstantial evidence and Angelo

Vitello's uncorroborated testimony.

So if it turns out that he was lying for whatever reason, well, my entire case,

based on your theory, just won't hold up.

He was not lying. Not then.

Well, I don't think so either.

But I'm in kind of a difficult position. You see, I've been asked to run for

district attorney next year.

Oh, I see.

Well... Something like this could really destroy my chances for the nomination.

I just hope you decide not to settle this civil suit out of court.

Well, my insurance company seems more than willing to negotiate, but I

wouldn't think of doing so.

Good for you.

You know, it's one thing to lie in a sworn deposition. It's quite another to

make it stick in an open courtroom under cross-examination.

Oh, you didn't let me down six years ago. You're not gonna let me down now.

We'll be in touch.

You bet.

Mrs. Fletcher. Yes.

Just the lady I came to see.

Charles Emmett Cosmo, attorney at law.

Oh, yes, Mr. Cosmo.

I represent. Yes, I know who you represent.

I'm really surprised to see that you actually came here to this police

station. Excuse me, lady, do you want the cab or don't you? Oh, yes. Why don't

you just get on with it? Wait, please.

I gave you a lot more credit, Mrs. Fletcher. A lady of your experience and

intelligence.

especially around the courtroom excuse me you see my client and i we're talking

civil action just a quiet little suit with a quiet little settlement something

that could be handled in an hour or so over a cup of coffee and now you see you

brought the law into it mr cosmo hard as it may be for you to grasp the concept i

was not involved in subordination of perjury lady go stay go stay

tourists

Mrs. Fletcher, don't misunderstand me. I just don't want to see you in any more

trouble. No, I've lost my cab.

So what are you telling me? That you're going to let this thing drag on for

three or four years?

If that's what it takes. And then what? You're going to get crucified.

I seriously doubt it. Why?

Because you're innocent?

Lady, that doesn't have a lot to do with it.

Don't you understand that judges and DAs will bend over backwards to avoid the

impression that they're kowtowing to a celebrity?

The trial gets crisis tough.

In the mornings at the courthouse, there'll be a bunch of lawyers swarming

all over you. And at night, the phone will ring off the hook. Do you seriously

want to put yourself through that?

Mr. Cosmo, I am still naive enough to believe that in a court of law, truth

will prevail.

Go through it. I look forward to it.

Excuse me.

This is just great.

Give the maitre d' your name, off he goes. One moment, he says. It's been

longer than a moment, Jessica.

Have you recently given up smoking or something? You're very edgy.

I'm not edgy. I just hate paying $100 a head for dinner and then have to suffer

rudeness in a bargain.

Maybe now you can tell me what this good reason is you have for coming here. It

surely can't be the food.

Well, I've heard interesting things about their pastry.

Mrs. Fletcher, how delightful to meet you at last.

Elliot von Steuben, a devoted admirer. Oh, I thank you. My friend Raymond

Dandridge. Mr. Dandridge. Oh, please.

I've reserved a very special table for you.

I've also ordered up an excellent 78 Cabernet, which I'm sure you will enjoy.

Oh, that sounds delicious.

And if there's something special you would like, anything at all, just ask

your waiter. No request will be too difficult.

I just don't know what to say, Mr. Van Steuben. Say? You need say nothing.

What you have written speaks volumes.

I confess to say I am a shameless aficionado of the well-crafted murder

mystery. Christy James Fletcher.

My library is small but select.

Bon appétit, and if there's anything you need, I am at your service.

Thank you.

It's incredible the man oozed his snake oil.

We'll wait a few minutes before ordering.

Certainly.

Jessica, what's all this about pastry?

I did some research on Geraldine Stone. She's involved with a pastry chef here

named Justin Fields.

He's been trying for months, unsuccessfully, to raise enough money to

open his own place.

Well, this is a high-risk business.

Oh, yes. And Mr. Fields has two bankruptcies to prove it.

What's your point? This sudden lawsuit, totally without merit, popping up at a

time that her boyfriend needs to raise about a half a million dollars. You tell

me. Well, she's suing you for 50 million.

which she couldn't possibly hope to collect for three or four years.

Now, the question is, what might you and the insurance company settle for now to

avoid the nuisance of the lawsuit?

I see. That would explain a lot of things.

Raymond, it's Geraldine Stone.

Something's making her unhappy.

And I think the pastry chef's about to hear about it. Maybe your idea of

confronting her wasn't such a bad one after all.

Excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher, a call for you. Oh, thank you.

Hello. Mrs. Fletcher, Sergeant Paulson. Your hotel told me where I could find

you. Oh, what's the matter, Sergeant?

The paramedics just responded to a 911 in Angelo Vitello's apartment.

They're taking him to Bellevue now.

Oh, what happened?

I don't know, but if you want to talk to the guy, you better hurry up.

I don't think he's going to make it till morning.

Sergeant, how is he?

Breathing, but that's about it. They've got him in ICU.

Did you get a chance to talk to him? He hasn't regained consciousness.

But what happened?

The doc thinks he went into a diabetic coma.

They're running some tests, and his wife's in the waiting room.

She's holding up pretty good.

Ray, would you excuse me? I'll see if I can find the doctor.

There, there, Mrs. Patella. I'll say a prayer for him at the Knight's Mass.

Excuse me, Mrs. Vitello?

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm so very sorry.

I hope that your husband's going to be all right.

Thank you.

Look, I want to apologize for my rudeness this afternoon.

Oh, please.

I get very protective.

Look, on his bad days, Angelo, he tires easily, and company upsets him.

You know, he hasn't been out of the house for the past eight weeks.

Well, how long has he been sick?

A couple of years.

The diabetes has always been with him, but then, two years ago Christmas, they

found the cancer in his lung.

Well, they took out what they could, but we knew it wasn't enough.

Look, I know you want to talk to him about that murder case. Oh, listen, the

important thing is to get him through this crisis.

He's not getting through it, not this time.

I've been with him all day, all night, watching him die, hour after hour.

All except tonight.

Tonight, I go down the street to a neighbor's to watch her kids for a

couple of hours so she and her husband can go out. It's their anniversary.

When I come home... Now, after

they laid him off, when he was too sick to work, he gave up.

I could see it in his face.

30 years he gave that company.

Never late, never an excuse.

Just like that, they fired him.

No benefits, no nothing. Even his life insurance.

It was just like he'd never, ever been there.

Jessica?

Excuse me.

Jessica, Vitello didn't make it.

He died about five minutes ago. I talked to one of the nurses.

Oh, that... Poor woman.

I mean, she said she was resigned to it, but I don't know.

This is gonna hit her hard.

Real hard, Mrs. Fletcher. We got a real sicko running around.

Explain this, Sergeant.

Vitello's back door.

Somebody punched in the glass pane next to the door handle.

An intruder? That's just for openers. The lab just double-checked their blood

tests. Came out the same way both times.

Vitello's bloodstream was loaded with sugar.

And we found a syringe tossed away in the backyard.

It still had traces on it. Traces of what?

Pure dextrose. Somebody broke in, injected the guy to bring on his attack.

What we're talking here is murder.

I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Cosmo is in with a client.

Miss, I phoned him early this morning and told him I would be here at 10.

Sir, I'm sorry, but he left specific instructions not to be disturbed.

Don't worry about a thing, Miss Stone.

Mr. Vitello's death doesn't change anything. I intend to pursue this

lawsuit.

Good. Because I'm more determined than ever to see it through.

Thanks, Mr. Cosmo. I'll be in touch.

Ray, sorry to keep you waiting.

Tell me something, Charlie. Is your client theatrically trained or was that

performance last-minute coaching?

Come on.

You know me better than that. Absolutely.

Face it, Ray.

It doesn't matter whether Angelo Vitello's dead or he's alive.

I've got your client dead bang.

His deposition was sworn and authorized.

No jury is going to buy a piece of paper.

From a dying man, anxious to cleanse his soul?

Come on, Ray.

Let's you and I stop screwing around and settle on a figure.

No deal.

A few years down the road, this is going to cost you guys a lot of zeros.

And your boss isn't going to be too happy when he finds out that you could

have settled today for a box of Cracker Jacks.

What are Cracker Jacks going for these days?

A little less than a million.

Not even for a dollar.

Mrs. Fletcher says it's a lie. I believe her.

Yeah? And when did you get to be so righteous?

Maybe since somebody murdered Angelo Vitello to make sure he never testified.

Well, it wasn't my client. Did I mention names? I'm just telling you, Charlie,

there's a point at which even I won't do business.

And you have a nice day.

Ray, when it comes to people with a motive to keep Angelo Vitello off the

witness stand, you know who's numero uno, don't you? Your client.

Oh, hey, that's a stretch, even for you, Charlie. Maybe so, but I happen to know

that the police have a witness who saw a woman leave the Vitello brownstone

around 7.30, and judging by the description, it could easily be Mrs.

Fletcher.

Sergeant?

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. They told me at the station you'd be here.

Where's Mrs. Patella?

She's at the church making arrangements.

Oh, did you find anything?

Aside from the broken pane in the kitchen door, not much.

I understand that a woman was seen leaving the building last night around 7

.30 or so.

Who told you that?

Oh, Mr. Dandridge.

And he heard it from Mr. Cosmo.

Oh, I wonder where he got that. From the bulletin board at headquarters?

Incidentally, for the record.

I was in my room at the hotel between 7 and 8 o'clock last night, changing for

dinner. Then I took a cab to the restaurant where I met Mr. Dandridge.

Did I ask?

Well, not yet.

They have quite a formidable security system here.

Too bad it wasn't operating last night.

Whenever Mrs. Vitella would leave the apartment, her husband would never use

the slide bolts in case, you know, he passed out or something, she would be

able to get back in. So anyone with a credit card could open the door latch.

Or the victim could have let someone in.

That, too. Mrs. Vitello left at 6.15 and came back around 8.30. She found her

husband comatose on the floor, so she called 911. The ambulance came within 10

minutes and rushed him to the hospital.

Well, then the woman seen leaving the building... Was not Mrs.

Vitello. She was with the neighbor's children the entire time.

Now, the other woman was of indeterminate middle age, blonde hair

under her hat and dark glasses, and she left from the front of the building.

Dark glasses at night?

It sounds as if she didn't want to be recognized.

My thoughts exactly.

Sergeant, excuse me. You mentioned that a syringe was found in the rear yard.

Yes, about ten yards from the kitchen door.

Oh, but doesn't that seem rather odd?

I mean, if this woman was involved in Mr. Vitello's death and left by the

front door, why was the syringe found at the back door?

I mean, it seems to me that the killer must have dropped or tossed the syringe

away as he left by the back.

Listen, uh, Mrs. Fletcher, uh... I happen to think you're a really terrific

lady.

And I am absolutely sure you had nothing to do with this.

On the other hand, I have a captain who...

really doesn't know you quite as well as I do. And he made a suggestion that,

um... You know, it really wasn't a suggestion.

It was... You know, being that there's a witness and you really don't have a

terrific alibi.

Well, let me put it to you this way.

All right, ladies, line up under your assigned numbers.

Face front.

Hands down at your side.

Thank you.

Well, Mrs. Torgerson?

I don't know. It was kind of dark. I wasn't that close.

I only really got a sideway glance as she was hurrying away.

All right, ladies, turn to your right.

No, the other way.

And now to your left.

How about now?

Could be.

Maybe.

Maybe number two.

But I saw her moving, you know what I mean?

Face forward, ladies.

Number two, please step forward.

Me? Yes, you, number two, step forward.

Now walk briskly to your left, please.

Now, just a minute, Sergeant.

Briskly to your left, number two.

No, I don't think so.

But you're not sure.

I'm an old lady with bad eyes. What do you want from me, pictures?

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, thanks so much for your cooperation.

I guess you're off the hook for the time being at least.

For the time being? Well, the eyewitness really turned out to be of no use to us.

Well, with the darkness and the obvious disguise the woman was wearing, she

really couldn't make a positive ID.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Stevenson, because I was going to

volunteer to go through again on one condition, that you join the lineup.

Me?

Well, I suppose that would be amusing.

Oh, my goodness, it's almost 2.30, and I haven't eaten much. Would you care to

join me?

I think that you and I have a lot to talk about.

How did you know I was the one at the Vitello apartment house last night?

Well, I didn't, for sure.

But you had as much to lose by Mr. Vitello's testimony as anyone.

I simply put the blonde hair together with the disguise.

Made sense.

I didn't kill the man, Mrs. Fletcher.

I went there to talk to him privately, that's all.

And the disguise was necessary. I mean, how would it look for the next district

attorney to be seen meeting with a man who claims to have been bribed to commit

perjury in a case I won six years ago?

And did you discuss that case with him?

No, I knocked several times, but there was no answer.

I could hear the television set, so I knew he was there, but he wouldn't

answer. Or couldn't.

And when was that? Was it around 7.30?

Yeah.

Look, I know it was stupid, but that deposition of his was just a total lie.

It had to be.

And I just wanted to get to the bottom of it, one-on-one.

Now, you say you heard the television.

Did you hear him moving around in the apartment?

No. Welcome, Mrs.

Fletcher. Welcome again.

Thank you.

This is... Miss Ann Stevenson.

Miss Stevenson, delighted.

I've seen you often on the late news.

The camera does not do you justice.

Won't you join us?

I would be delighted, however... Actually, Miss Stevenson would like to

ask you a couple of questions about last night.

Right, of course.

How may I help you?

Well, I... Actually, Miss Stevenson would like to have a chat with your

pastry chef, Justin Fields.

Ah, yes.

I can give you his home address.

You mean he's not here?

No, no, will he be? I let him go last evening.

A most disagreeable and undependable gentleman, despite his considerable

skill with a baking pan.

That's excellent. Saucy, but not impudent.

Undependable? Last evening, he sneaked out the back door and...

Left the petty fours to his assistant.

It's unconscionable.

About what time was that?

Shortly before seven.

And when did he return?

He didn't.

Oh, but I saw Geraldine Stone here last night. I had just assumed that she'd

come here to see him.

She did, and she was only slightly less disappointed than I was to find him

missing.

I called him this morning to notify him of his termination.

He found it amusing.

He said he'd worked his last shift as a pastry chef.

Dear fellow, I wonder what he knows that I don't.

Mrs. Fletcher, what are you doing here? I came to see you, Miss Stone. Your

office told me that you'd taken a couple of days' sick leave.

This must be Mr. Fields. How do you do?

Hi. I'm sorry that I missed you at the restaurant last night.

I hear you make a wonderful cheesecake.

You didn't come here to discuss cheesecakes, Mrs. Fletcher.

No, I didn't.

My, this is quite a lovely place. Or it will be when you get it all fixed up.

I talked to the owner this morning. He told me that you took a lease on the

place last month.

Not that it's any of your business.

Well, I'm afraid it's very much my business. The lawsuit's sort of that.

But actually, what's far more important is who killed that poor, sick old man in

the wheelchair.

Well, it wasn't me.

I wanted him alive to testify at your trial.

Did you? I wonder.

Your lawyer seems to think he'd have just as good a case even with Mr.

Vitello dead, perhaps even stronger.

After all, you can't cross-examine a corpse.

That's a pretty lousy suggestion, Mrs. Fletcher. Murder's lousy too, Mr.

Fields, and so is that absurd accusation against me.

But I can guess why you made it. To pressure my insurance company into

making an out-of-court settlement. How much do you need to open this place?

A half a million? Wait a minute, my father is dead because of you. The owner

of this building says you gave him a $10,000 deposit, Mr. Fields.

Though according to the bank check you paid him with, the money came from Miss

Stone's savings account.

What else did you pay from that account, Miss Stone?

What the hell are you talking about?

Suppose I told you that Sergeant Paulson is at the courthouse at this very moment

getting an order to open up your financial records for the past three

months.

You're lying.

No, I just used the word suppose.

But judging by your reaction, I think it's a wonderful idea. Excuse me.

Wait a minute. Mrs.

Fletcher, wait. Jerry, don't be stupid.

Look, I really didn't want to do this.

It just seemed like an easy way to make some quick money without anybody getting

hurt.

Except the insurance company and my reputation.

Jerry, shut up or you could end up in jail.

Look, maybe I don't care anymore.

All right, Justin?

You know, I never should have let you talk me into this in the first place.

If you want to walk, go ahead and walk.

Honey, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Thanks for nothing.

If you felt like shedding a few tears, I wouldn't. I honestly don't think that

he's worth it. That doesn't exactly come as a hot news flash.

All right, Mrs. Fletcher, what do you need to know?

You paid Vitello $25,000 in cash to lie?

No, I didn't pay him personally. That was handled by my attorney, Mr. Cosmo.

No kidding.

Charlie Cosmo bribing a witness?

This is my lucky day.

And he paid the money directly to Mr. Vitello?

Oh, yeah, yeah, in his living room. It was about three weeks ago. Mr. Vitello

was too sick to leave the house.

But if he was too sick to leave the house... Sergeant, are you thinking what

I'm thinking?

Oh, yes, ma'am.

Sergeant, this is insane.

You've got no right to do this. Ma'am, I showed you the search warrant. We have

every right. But there's no money hidden here.

Three weeks ago, your husband had a visitor, Charles Cosmo, an attorney.

Yes, he came to discuss the case, but no money changed hands. Are you sure of

that? Were you with them every single moment?

Well, of course not.

Sergeant, we got it.

Where'd you find this?

In the ceiling in the bedroom.

I noticed one of the panels seemed a little cockeyed, so I pushed it out of

the way.

What do you know about this?

Nothing. This is crazy. I never saw that before.

Are you quite sure about that, Mrs. Vitello?

Yes, of course I'm sure.

Officer, is there a stepladder anywhere in the house? In the hall closet, ma'am.

It's one of those little rickety stepladders. I get it.

Cosmo gave your husband 25 Gs while you were out of the room. Later, he hid the

cash in the ceiling so somebody else would find it.

It's possible, but not likely, Sergeant. His legs were very weak. I mean, he

could barely walk. I doubt very much if he could have stood on a short, unstable

ladder to hide the money in the ceiling.

What do you think, that I put it there?

Did you?

Sure.

That makes sense.

Your husband tells you about the money. You can't put it in a safe deposit box

because of your husband's condition. He could die at any moment.

And then when they opened the box, how would you explain the cash?

No! Someone knew the money was in the house. Now, whether it was Cosmo or the

woman or her boyfriend... No, Sergeant, I don't think... They broke in the back

door, killed him with the sugar injection, and then started their search

for the money.

I don't think that's what happened.

Is it, Mrs. Fatello?

Why are you asking me?

You arrived home at what?

8.30?

You phoned 911, and ten minutes later, the paramedics arrived.

But what did you do during those ten minutes, Mrs. Vitello? Do?

I don't know what... I know what most people would have done. They would have

called a neighbor or a friend, perhaps even a priest.

Your husband was obviously in bad shape.

No, I think that you did something else. I think that when you walked in, you

found the money and you hid it.

I think you also found something else.

Mrs. Fletcher, what are you talking about?

He left you a note, didn't he, Beatrice?

Do you still have it?

My dearest wife.

May God forgive me what I'm about to do.

I can't go on like this, lying, hurting people, suffering myself, and watching

you suffer.

The doctors have taken everything.

The medical benefits are gone.

I have no insurance.

All I can leave you is what is in the envelope.

It is not enough, but it will have to do.

But at least you'll be spared any further pain or hardship.

Remember always that I loved you.

Angelo.

When I came in, he was slumped over in the chair.

The note and the envelope were on the table.

The syringe was on the floor.

There.

As soon as I read the note, I knew what he'd done.

He lied about you, Mrs. Fletcher, but he couldn't live with it. That's why he did

what he did.

He felt so sick and ashamed, so frightened for his soul.

Is that why you took the note and hid the money?

Suicide is a mortal sin.

The priest would never have held a mass.

He could never have been buried in consecrated ground.

In almost 60 years, he lived a Christian life.

Couldn't let it end like that.

I only wanted Angelo to be buried the way he lived.

In a state of grace.

The nightmare's over, thank God. Oh, yes.

I wasn't looking forward to spending the next five years of my life in and out of

courtrooms. Well, that's the legal system for you. Even the innocent don't

get off lightly.

Have you talked to Ann Stevenson? What's going to happen to Beatrice Vitello?

It's probation, community service, a stern lecture from the judge. At that,

she's a very lucky lady. Oh, yes. But not so our friend Charlie Cosmo, who's

staring disbarment dead in the eye. His peers have been waiting a long time to

get their teeth into him.

Well, thank you, Mr. Dandridge. It's been a delight meeting you. But I have

to say, I hope we never find ourselves in this situation again. Ah, we won't.

Well, I admire your optimism.

Well, it's not optimism, Jessica.

I'm resigning from the company.

Oh? Remember when you first came to see me and I suggested we might settle

rather than go to trial?

Oh, yes, I remember.

Well, I realized I was measuring everything in terms of money, you know,

bottom line.

I'd lost track of what I was supposed to be.

So I think I'm gonna settle down somewhere far away from big cities and

big corporations, maybe a little town where I can hang a gone fishing sign in

the door when things get a little slow.

Sounds wonderful.

I know a place like that if you don't mind snow.

Quiet and friendly. And the striped bass are running 12 months of the year.

I'll give you a call.

I'll be waiting.