All language subtitles for Murder, She Wrote S03E15 The Bottom Line Is Murder.DVDRip.NonHI.en

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Are you a reporter? Crime is
my beat. Murder my specialty.

- The story is dead. D-E-A-D.
- I understand dead.

What wasn't a blur
is a complete blank.

A bronze apple core
belong to David Eisenhower.

Sweetheart, not again tonight.
I'm sorry, honey. Can't be helped.

That's you if you put on
any show about my bears.

I'm gonna make you a star.

Is that your
solution? To kill me?

And down goes another
of our valiant men in blue.

A victim, a victim
of misplaced faith.

Thank God that this
was not a real tragedy,

but, rather, a graphic demonstration
of self-serving exaggeration.

And yes, even fraud,

and a courtesy of the Acme
Bulletproof Vest Company,

who claim that their product
can withstand a .45 caliber slug.

Well, Clare, let's show our viewers
the tragic results of this impartial test.

Had this flimsy protection been
worn by one of Denver's finest,

that bullet would have ripped
through the vest and into the che...

Mr. Chambers.
Look, not a scratch.

- What?
- The vest. It really works.

Cut. Cut the cameras.

Look, are you people
all incompetent or what?

Look, I blow 10 holes in 10
vests, and the damn thing works!

When we do it for the camera, the damn
thing works! Now where the hell is Ryan?

Look, would someone
get me a cannon?

I want something that will
blow a hole in that thing.

Steve, damn it. Can't
you do something about

these lights? They're
burning a hole in my head.

Don't tell me. "Go find Ryan."

Murray, you wanna bring
the lights down before the

prima donna's head melts
off or somebody blows it off.

Ryan.

See you later, babe.

If you're through
notching your bedpost, why

don't you zip up your
brain and get back to work?

What? Is the Great One
having another temper tantrum?

Mr. Chambers needs you. Now!

- No. What he needs is a good swift kick.
- Move it, Romeo.

I can't believe it's been
seven years since the wedding.

And your dance marathon
with my crazy Uncle Buck.

If Steve hadn't rescued me,
my feet would still be hurting.

- How is your dear husband?
- Well, nobody said the
honeymoon would last forever.

- Oh, don't like the sound of that.
- Oh, we're muddling through, Jess.

But I can sum up the problem in
two words: Kenneth Chambers.

Steve produces his program.

Chambers? Oh, yes, I
remember, you wrote me about him.

A compulsive egomaniac
suffering from delusions of grandeur?

That was last month.
These days he's even worse.

I think Steve would like to quit his job,
but then there'd be two of us out of work.

Well, you could always
reestablish your practice.

Most of my patients have
scattered to other psychiatrists.

Besides, it'd be like...
stepping backwards.

Oh, look, enough about my
troubles. Steve can't wait to see you,

and I can't tell you how
delighted he is that you're

going to guest on his
new book review program.

Well, anyone who
would rescue me from

your Uncle Buck deserves
my lifelong gratitude.

This is the rough footage
we got with Flannigan.

The Acme vest?
Well, it's cumbersome.

I mean, I wouldn't put it on my dog
if I expected him to fetch the paper.

But, uh, in a dangerous situation, it's
the most effective product I've ever seen.

Boring testimonial stuff, right?

Now, take a look at this next one. I
had our boys do a little bit of editing.

The Acme vest?

In a dangerous situation,
I wouldn't put it on my dog.

Kenneth, that's unethical.

It's brilliant. Look, who cares?

I care. Gee, that's not fair.

Kenneth, there isn't a South American coup
that can match the one I just pulled off.

The Hammet Cheese
tapes. They're all we need

to throw Hammet into
the fondue as it were.

That story's dead. What
do you mean, dead?

I spent weeks digging up
this evidence. It's all here.

Watch my lips, Lynnette.
The story is dead. D-E-A-D.

You do understand
dead, don't you?

I understand dead.

Oh, thanks... for all
your support, Steve.

Got a minute for
a famous author?

Jessica! Oh, my
gosh. You look great.

Oh, I would have
been at the airport, but

things have got a little
crazed around here.

I know, a show a week, ready or not.
Believe me, I know all about deadlines.

Hiya, honey. Hiya, honey.

Hey, hey, hey, hey! Not
this stuff again, please.

Jayne, when are you
gonna dump this loser

and run off with a
certified winner like me?

When you get a new line. Rob, I
believe you have met Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, yes. At the wedding. As I remember,
you were the life of the party, Mr. Warren.

Oh, well, forgive me, Mrs. Fletcher.
What wasn't a blur is a complete blank.

Well that's very convenient.

But when one's best friend steals
the love of his life from under his nose,

it's either "laugh,
clown, laugh" or slit your

wrists, and I didn't
have the blood to spare.

But, Jessica,

if there is anything
that I can do for you

while you're in Denver,
you need only command.

Oh, this young man has got to
be your number one salesman.

Used to be. Used to be.
Then they promoted me to

station manager either
out of pity or desperation.

I haven't figured that one
out yet. Uh, so, Jessica,

let me take you on the 50 cent tour—
I think these two wanna talk about us.

Oh, that's very nice. Thank you.

So how was the rest of your day?

All things considered, almost placid.
But then the day is not over yet. Yeah.

Excuse me.

Mr. Rinaldi. Mr. Rinaldi, sir,
you can't park like that, sir.

- Where's Chambers?
- Why, you can't go in there.

Thank you. No! I'm sorry,
Mr. Chambers. I tried to stop him.

What are you tryin' to do,
destroy me? How are you, Joe?

My ulcer is acting
up, and I ain't about to

eat a boatload of stuffed
bears from Taiwan.

Now I spent a fortune on these stupid
toys, and you're not about to ruin me.

Well, those bears
are unsafe, Joe.

Unsafe? No.

This is unsafe, and I'm
warning you, Chambers.

That's you if you put on
any show about my bears.

And here, of course,
the pièce de résistance...

A Rogues' Gallery
of life's famous losers.

Kenneth Chambers's Wall
of Fame and Shame. Clare!

Yes, sir? I thought I told
Ryan to have this TV fixed.

- Now where the hell is he?
- I'll find him.

TV repairman. Very
funny, Warren. Very funny.

Suppose you channel that
sense of humor of yours into...

J. B. Fletcher. Now
this is a pleasure.

Steve told me that you were coming. I
can't tell you how much I admire your work.

Why, thank you, Mr. Chambers.

I've heard a great deal
about you as well. Is that right?

What? The article in
the New York Times?

Um, from Jayne and Steve.

Oh. Well, Steve's great.

Great, like my right arm. I
couldn't get along without him.

Say, now I hope you're
staying for the next few days.

Well, I, uh— I've got a terrific
show lined up for Saturday evening.

I'm pulling the plug
on Rinaldi Toys.

Oh, come on, Kenneth. I thought
we'd already discussed this.

Joe Rinaldi plunks down a lot of
advertising bucks in this station.

That doesn't give him a license to
bilk our public, now does it, Rob?

Look, the man is a menace. Besides which,
I've got an obligation to my viewers.

I am merely
suggesting that— Sorry.

We go with this
Saturday, Warren,

unless, of course, you'd
like to pull the plug on me.

Because if you do, there are plenty
of places I can go, as you well know.

Ah, but what are we arguing for?

Especially in
front of our guest.

- J. B. Fletcher, say hello
to my assistant, Clare Henley.
- Hello.

What a pleasure, Mrs.
Fletcher. Kenneth...

I mean, Mr. Chambers,
said you were coming.

He is such a fan.

Oh! Oh, you idiot!

Ah, I'm sorry, sir.
It was an accident.

Accident? Your whole
life is an accident, Monroe.

Look, that's it. Look, you have
screwed up for the last time. You're fired!

Kenneth, he certainly
didn't mean to— I said, out!

Now!

Ah, perhaps we should go to
the restaurant and meet Steve.

I think escape is
definitely in order.

Oh, well, ah...

Yes, I'm sure we'll be
seeing more of each

other, Mrs. Fletcher.
Enjoy your stay in Denver.

Well, thank you, Mr. Chambers.
It's nice meeting you, Miss Henley.

No coffee, thanks.
It's off my diet.

Yes, I imagine Kenneth Chambers provides
all the stimulant your nerves can handle.

So anyway, for once in his life, old Steve
here is actually hanging tough with me...

until, until I unleashed my secret
serve. The "Rob Warren unreturnable."

It's a miracle serve that defies
gravity. I've heard that before.

In all modesty, from there
on I just cruised to victory.

- As usual. And as usual,
we get to hear all about it.
- Of course.

And before you ask, Jessica,
no, I am not masochistic.

I'm into racquetball
for the exercise. It's

good old Rob here who
thrives on competition.

To the point of
compulsion, I might add.

Oh? Maybe your former psychiatrist
could give us some insight into that?

Mm-mmm.

Please, I would love
to, but there are very

strict rules about
doctor-patient confidentiality.

And it's a good thing. Jayne
and I had years of pillow talk.

Of course, I was the only one with my
head on the pillow. She was taking notes.

Oh, the things this woman
could tell about me. It's terrifying.

Well, I hate to break up a party, gang, but
work beckons. Orders from the Great One.

Sweetheart, not again tonight.
I'm sorry, honey. Can't be helped.

I'll probably be
late, so don't wait up.

Good night. Thanks, Rob.

Well, I, for one, can
commiserate with Steve.

I had to work at the station late
every night this week, and believe me,

when there's no one else
there, it's a very lonely place.

Well, I doubt that he'll be
lonely with Mr. Chambers around.

Which is exactly why for
the first time in weeks, I

am gonna go home and get
myself a good night's sleep.

Night, Jaynie. Good night, Rob.

And you, madam, I shall expect to see
in my office first thing in the morning...

to collect your 30 pieces of silver
for your book show appearance.

Here's a dollar. Would you
like that in dimes or quarters?

Jayne, what is it? I don't know.

Oh, it's nothing
really, I guess.

Uh, it's just that according
to Steve, he's been

working late at the station
every night this week,

and Rob just let it slip that
he's been working all alone.

Maybe it's just me.

Mr. Chambers?

Yoo-hoo.

Mr. Chambers?

You asleep or something?

I hope Steve didn't disturb you when
he came home. It was awfully late.

I didn't hear a thing.
Slept straight through.

And he was gone
early this morning too.

Jayne, look, maybe it's none of my business
and feel free to tell me to shut up,

but Frank and I could
always talk things out.

You know, clear the
air. Whatever's going on.

Well, I'm a very good listener
with a very short memory.

Thanks, Jess. I guess it all
started when I quit my practice.

You know I could never understand
that. You seemed to be doing so well.

Indeed, I was a huge success. Some
of my patients still haven't forgiven me.

Jess, the bottom line, I
wanted—still want—a baby.

One doesn't necessarily
preclude the other.

Then let's just say marriage is
more of a full-time job than I thought.

I know Steve is under a lot
of pressure from the show,

but, Jess, I feel...
he's drifting away.

So I thought if I could be
there for him, all the time...

What is that?

As most of your viewers know, I was Kenneth
Chambers's unofficial police expert.

Naturally I feel a
tremendous sense of loss.

The man had guts, integrity,
a real sense of community.

Selfless, dedicated— Do you have
any leads in the killing, Lieutenant?

Leads? Sure, but nothing
I can discuss right now.

A man like Kenneth Chambers
had powerful enemies—

Well, could you tell
us how he was killed?

Yes. He was shot
twice late last evening.

But let me tell you this,
and this is a promise.

Lieutenant Lou Flannigan will have
this great man's killer wrapped up...

before you people can say
"Film at 11." Thanks very much.

We've been talking to Lieutenant
Louis Flannigan of the Denver Police.

This is Rick Coleman reporting live
from Station KBLR. Back to you, Allison.

Thanks a lot, Lieutenant. Yeah, we'll
be in touch. Sure. Anything you need.

Uh, excuse me, Lieutenant? Yeah?

I-I was wondering, could you tell
us just about when this happened?

Certainly. It was between
10:00 and 12:00 last evening.

The killer, ah—
Are you a reporter?

Oh, no. No, my name is
Jessica Fletcher and uh...

Fletcher? I know that name.

And the face. Are you sure
you're not with the media?

No, no, I'm-I'm just
visiting from out of town.

As my guest. I'm Jayne Honig. My
husband works here as a producer.

- Oh, Steve? We've been looking for him.
- You're what?

You know where he was last night, ma'am?
Say, between the hours of 10:00 and 12:00?

Jayne! Oh, sweetheart.
Thank God, you're safe.

I just got back from
playing racquetball with

Rob. I just heard. I
don't believe any of this.

Steve, we've gotta talk. Is there
someplace we can be, ah, private?

Well, sure, Lieutenant,
there's my office, but...

It's just routine.
Don't sweat it.

Ladies, this is an official
police interrogation. No civilians.

Lieutenant— Uh,
Lieutenant, you know,

I don't know how you spotted me, but
you certainly had me pegged. I am a writer.

Crime is my beat.
Murder my specialty.

Somethin' told me. If you
wouldn't mind me sitting in,

I mean, uh, just to observe a
real homicide detective at work.

I wouldn't say a
word. Believe me.

Okay, but if you write it
up, I wanna clear the copy.

Oh, absolutely.

- The janitor says you and Chambers were
thrashing it out pretty good last night.
- We argued, yes.

About what? Ethics, Lieutenant.

He'd edited a tape to make one
of our experts look like an idiot.

He wouldn't do that. Honesty was
Kenneth Chambers's middle name.

Perhaps if you could establish the
time of that argument, Lieutenant.

Sorry.

What time did you leave?

It was around 10:30,
and I just went to cool off.

- What'd you do, climb Pike's Peak?
- I drove around for a couple of hours,
and then I went home.

- So you got no witnesses?
- What are you driving at?

You argue with Chambers.
Chambers is dead.

And what-what motive
could he possibly have?

That is what I intend to find out,
ma'am. Downtown. Excuse me, sir.

Thought you oughta
have a look at this.

This is insane. I
didn't kill anybody.

Of course you didn't.

Mr. Honig, do you have a
permit to carry this weapon, sir?

Me? This is not mine.

No? Then how did it come to
be in the backseat of your car?

One of my men spotted
it through the window.

Also two shots have been fired.

My guess is this is the gun that killed
Kenneth Chambers. What's your guess?

Lieutenant, for heaven's sakes.
Anyone could have planted that gun.

Ma'am, you're just
an observer here.

Yes, and what I've observed is a
complete lack of common sense.

If he was the killer, why would he
return to the scene of the crime...

with the murder weapon carelessly
concealed in the back of his car...

when he had all
night to dispose of it?

- There's a perfectly
logical reason for that.
- Yes?

Steve. Steve, I just heard.

Excuse me, sir, but I'm interrogating
this witness. And who are you?

Robert Warren. I run
this station. And you are?

Oh, Mr. Warren. We
haven't met. Lou Flannigan.

You've probably caught me on
Chambers's show a few times.

Actually, I hardly ever watched it. Uh,
I'm sorry to disrupt things, Mr. Warren,

but I've got to take Mr. Honig down to the
station for some additional questioning.

Well, you won't mind if I send a
lawyer along with him then? No, not at all.

Are you sure, Rob? I just
feel like I should be there.

All right. No, whatever you
think is best. I'll wait for your call.

They are going to hold him at
least until the ballistics results are in.

And I'm afraid that
news won't be good.

Steve did not kill that
man. Of course he didn't.

He also doesn't own a gun,

which means the gun that they found in the
backseat has got to be the murder weapon,

planted there by the real killer
to railroad Steve into a conviction.

Jayne, what time did
he come home last night?

I don't know. 1:00, 1:30.

Did he say anything?

Anything that could give us a
hint as to what had happened?

No. We didn't speak.

I pretended to be asleep.

Oh, Jess, with what I was feeling, I
was terrified I'd say something I'd regret.

So I just laid there... silent.

And let my
suspicions gnaw at me.

Turn off the faucets, Clare.

Kenneth Chambers
only cared about himself.

He and Steve were a couple
of self-centered chauvinists.

And with them out of the
way, now is our big chance.

Kenneth is dead. How
can you talk that way?

Think, Clare! Think
of all the humiliation

that bag of gas heaped
on you—on all of us.

Honey, I wouldn't
steer you wrong.

What I'm saying is...

we can take the reins of Kenneth's
legacy and make it stronger.

Different. We'd make a
great team. I dig up the facts,

you feed 'em to the public.

The public, honey,
Kenneth's public.

They're ready for a change.
You know what they want?

They want pretty.

They want happy.

They want young
attractive people.

- Like me?
- Not like you, Clare, you!

Now I've already talked to
Robert, but we've gotta move fast.

I am gonna create a
whole new image for you.

New hair, complete makeover,

and a... a sexy wardrobe,

so your public can
see the beautiful you.

Sweetheart. I'm
gonna make you a star.

Well, Jayne should be
worried, Jessica. We all should.

But Ralph Kensington is
the best attorney in this city.

All well and good, Rob,
but I honestly believe...

that the best way to get Steve off the
hook is to find the real killer and fast.

Well, if you're looking for
suspects, I could name a few dozen.

You mean Joe Rinaldi,
the Teddy Bear King?

Oh, I'd put him right at the top
of the list is where I'd put him.

Oh, and you may also
wanna check on Clare Henley.

She was much more
than just his assistant.

Murray!

I want lots of lights.
Red and white, flashing!

Excuse me, I'm looking for Clare
Henley. Try backstage. Makeup.

Oh, thank you. Uh,
it's Miss Bryant, isn't it?

I don't believe we've
met. I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Lynnette Bryant. And it's Ms.

Ms. Oh, yes. Ms. Bryant?

The blue. And I want you to plunge the
neckline. Start at the navel and work up.

Yes, ma'am.

Terrible tragedy about
Kenneth Chambers, isn't it?

The only tragedy is it took
Steve so long to cancel him.

Like I said, you can
find Clare backstage.

I've marked the photos I want blown up.
This afternoon at the latest. Right away.

Miss, uh, Ms. Bryant,
forgive me, but, uh,

it all looks very much
as if The Bottom Line

isn't quite as dead
as Kenneth Chambers.

Very observant. Life goes on,
especially in Television land.

New star, new producer...

Oh, then you're
taking Steve's place?

Hey, I did not step on Steve's
bones to get this gig, believe me.

He hated this job anyway.

What he really wanted
was the station manager slot.

Only the late and
not-so-great Kenneth

Chambers made sure
Rob Warren got it instead.

Which is why you think that
Steve may have killed him.

Now you're catching on.

Kill it!

Sorry. Look, I am really
very busy, Ms. Fletcher.

Ah, it's Mrs.
Fletcher. Whatever.

Hi. Well? What do you think?

Well, very, uh, striking.

I hate it. I'm beginning to wish I was
back to being the weekend weather girl. Oh!

Look, you wanna talk? Sure.

How about someplace a
little more private? Mm-hmm.

I grew up about a mile
from here. See those swings?

I used to play on
them when I was a kid.

Swinging always
made me feel happy.

I'm sure working for Kenneth
Chambers, you must have been down a lot.

Well, he wasn't perfect,
but he was good and

honest, and he helped
a lot of people, you know.

It was an honor to work for him
even though sometimes it was difficult.

Yes, I suppose he was hard
on everyone including Steve.

That's what I don't
understand. Steve

killing him. I just
don't believe he'd do it.

Good. Neither do I. Now
tell me about Joe Rinaldi.

That thug? He threatened
Kenneth, you know, over

that show he was gonna
run on the toy company.

Rinaldi has about 10
million dollars' worth of

toy bears just waiting
for the Christmas rush.

Toy bears? How could you
have a problem with toy bears?

Kenneth said that Rinaldi cut a lot
of corners with the safety regulations.

And he had proof? He had
a whole show almost on tape.

He said it would ruin
Rinaldi when it got on the air.

Clare, I'd like to
see that tape. May I?

But I locked them in
here myself, Mrs. Fletcher.

The files, the tapes, all the
Rinaldi evidence. It's gone.

What are you bustin' my chops
for, lady? The cops got the killer.

What's his name,
Hanig, Hahnig, Honig...

I wanna talk to you about
some tapes, Mr. Rinaldi.

Some videotapes of your
stuffed teddy bears for a show...

that Kenneth Chambers
was going to run on Saturday.

I understand that
you threatened him.

Threaten? I don't
threaten. I negotiate.

- Those tapes are missing.
- What?

Stolen from the
station storage room.

Lady, let me give you a clue.
If you find 'em, they're mine.

- Bought and paid for
with hard Yankee greenbacks.
- Bought from whom?

From Chambers. Who else?

25,000 in cash which I handed
over to him early last evening.

Somebody should've told
me there was a safe in here.

Kenneth would never take a
bribe. We are just wastin' our time.

You're right, honey. If there's
one thing I know, it's people.

And Kenneth Chambers
was too honest.

Oh, yeah? Well, that's the
dough I gave Chambers.

Five $5,000 bundles
still in their wrappers.

And the missing tapes. I'd say there's
another $50,000 or $60,000 in there.

Perhaps Mr. Rinaldi wasn't the
only one who was paying extortion.

The Hammet Cheese tape.
No wonder he killed the story.

I don't believe it.
Kenneth was a crook.

Believe it, sweetheart. He
had a neat little racket goin'.

Now I'll just take—
Oh, no way, Rinaldi.

Kenneth Chambers may have been
dishonest, but I'm running the show now.

I don't take bribes. And
come Saturday night at 7:30,

The New Bottom Line is gonna
crucify you, aren't we, Clare?

Finding the money and tapes
doesn't get Steve Honig off the hot seat.

Oh, Lieutenant, if you would just
open up your mind to the possibilities.

Mrs. Fletcher,
you're a sweet lady.

Sweet but, uh, dishonest.
I beg your pardon.

All that donkey dirt about
you being a crime writer.

Lieutenant, I did not
lie to you... exactly.

Yeah. You didn't tell the
truth exactly either, did you?

But never mind.

The point is, ma'am,
as far as I'm concerned,

Steve Honig killed Chambers and
planted those tapes to smear his good name.

Anyone could've accomplished it.

I mean, maybe Joe
Rinaldi came in to get his

money back and ended
up shooting Chambers.

No, no, no, no.

Honig went to Chambers's
office to smear Chambers.

Well, Chambers surprised
him. Yeah, that's it.

And then, uh, Honig
had to shoot him.

You mind if I have
a look at those?

No, no. Be my guest. They're
just photos of the murder scene.

You think you can catch something
that the, uh, trained eye couldn't?

Kenneth Chambers was shot
through the back of his chair.

He must've been facing
away from the door. Yeah. So?

Well, why was he sitting
with his back to the door?

To the untrained eye, it must
seem strange, but if you'll notice,

there's a TV and a VCR behind
the desk on that shelf there.

Ah. He was watching TV.

Uh, Lieutenant, uh, with due
respect for your trained eye,

that is impossible.

I was in Mr. Chambers's
office and, uh,

his television was broken.

- Broken?
- Broken.

Which makes me wonder what he was
doing sitting in that, uh, odd position.

- Well, obviously— - Yes?

Obviously, uh, this is
gonna take some thought.

Any news from the lawyer?

Oh, he's still trying
to arrange for Steve's

release. But it
doesn't look very good.

Rob, The Bottom Line. Whose idea was it to
revive the show without Kenneth Chambers?

Lynnette Bryant's.

Why? You think Lynnette
may have personally

canceled Kenneth just
to get her own shot?

I've heard of worst
motives. Oh, I suppose.

She's a very talented girl who wasn't
given much to do under Steve's wing.

It's funny. Under the new format,
everybody's coming out a winner.

You know, Jessica, this
isn't public knowledge,

but Kenneth was thinking
about taking the show

to the network and leaving
everyone else behind.

My goodness. Including Clare?

Oh, especially Clare. You see,
everyone here knew about their romance,

and no matter how hard
Kenneth tried to shake her loose,

well, somehow she always
managed to hang on with a firm grip.

It's ironic though, isn't
it? I mean, now that

he's dead, and Lynnette's
running the show,

Clare is going to be a star.

Oh, well, excuse me. Duty calls.

Ironic.

I'm sure you will all be
able to sleep better at night...

knowing that The New Bottom Line
will continue its costumer crusades.

Cut! It's "consumer
crusades, " Clare."Consumer."

I think I need new contacts.

Listen, Clare, we can't
spend all day on this.

Let's move on to the Rinaldi
Teddy Bear demonstration. Ryan!

Miss Henley, need
makeup? It's okay.

Well, I guess you're a little surprised
to see me, huh, Mrs. Fletcher.

In this business, it's here
today, gone tomorrow.

Chambers is gone, and I am here.

Well, frankly, Mr. Monroe, everything
about this business surprises me.

Clare Henley suddenly a
star, Lynnette a producer...

And me an assistant
director. Well, you

gotta understand
something about television.

You see, the name of this game is
hustle. Any boob can do these jobs.

You just gotta make sure you're
the any boob that gets himself hired.

- Tell me, how are you
at fixing television sets?
- What?

Okay, Clare, let's try it.

Excuse me.

Stand by, everyone.
Quiet on the set. Action.

Even though this may
look like a harmless toy,

it is actually a dangerous
threat to your child.

Inside there is a very sharp wire
that could poke a child's eye out.

And because of shoddy craftsmanship
by the Rinaldi Toy Company,

eight out of 10 two-year-olds
we tested easily pulled the arm off.

Cut!

Oh, that was something.

Oh, Mr. Tanaka.
You-You startled me.

Very sorry, Mrs. Fletcher.

You know, it's an honor for me,
you being big-time writer and all.

I've been admiring
your trash for a long time.

No, no, no. Excuse me. I
misspoke. Not your books, your trash.

I got this collection
of celebrity trash.

Maybe you wanna see it. You
come to my office. I show it to you.

Well, yes. Yes, I'd
like to talk to you.

Good, good. My office
this way. Thank you.

I got a whole bunch
of stuff in here.

Here, please. You sit
down. Oh, yes, thank you.

I got something from every
celebrity whoever visit this station.

Oh, yes, it's
fascinating, but, uh...

A bronze apple core
belong to David Eisenhower.

Look like he got a chip on his tooth or
something like that. Oh, yes. Mr. Tanaka...

See this? See this? Salami
wrapper of Frank Sinatra's.

And this banana peel belonged
to Jerry Lewis. Very funny man.

And just last month, this
milk carton of Pat Boone's.

- Mr. Tanaka— -
Oh, call me Bert.

Bert, this is all very
interesting— I know, I know.

I bet you want to hear about
the night Mr. Chambers got killed.

Well, uh, tuna fish. You
want half? Oh, no, thank you.

The other night, I come to the
executive hallway at my regular time,

10:30, to do my rounds.

I was very happy to find Mr. Honig
and Mr. Chambers arguing.

Happy?

Not because they were
arguing, you know, but because...

for the past few nights,
Mr. Honig had been working late...

and didn't wanna be disturbed
by having his office cleaned.

So Steve was working
late. Now that is good news.

But the night of the killing, was there
something strange or something like that?

Nothing. I just go about my regular job
like I've been doing for the last 38 years.

I got a system. You have to to
last in this business, you know.

I dust, I dump the ashtray, I vacuum,
and then I look through the trash.

If there's nothing
famous, I dump it. Ah!

Oh, my gosh. I just
had these cleaned.

I hope it don't
stain or anything.

Now I gotta get changed.

Bert, could you let me into
Mr. Honig's office? Now. Sure.

What are you looking
for, Mrs. Fletcher, huh?

Of course. Bert, I
can't thank you enough.

Oh, sure. That's okay. Anytime.

Lieutenant. No, Mrs.
Fletcher. Whatever it is, no.

But I am certain that Steve Honig
couldn't possibly have killed Mr. Chambers.

Oh, really? How did you
arrive at that brilliant conclusion?

Because whoever killed Kenneth Chambers
was actually trying to kill Steve Honig.

Steve Honig?

Who'd want to kill Steve
Honig? He's nobody.

There, how do I look?

Lieutenant, could you stop grooming
yourself long enough to listen to me?

Mrs. Fletcher, I have a newscast in
a few minutes. I have to look my best.

Well, pardon me, but you're
going to look like a complete fool...

if you go out in front
of those cameras and

take credit for the
arrest of Steve Honig.

Not to mention the lawsuit
that you may be facing.

Well, there's your chair.

Just as I thought.

The bullet holes, no
coffee stain. That proves it.

Proves what?

Even though this may
look like a harmless toy,

it is actually a dangerous
threat to your child...

because inside there is a very sharp
wire that could poke a child's eye out.

And because of shoddy craftsmanship
by the Rinaldi Toy Company,

eight out of 10 two-year-olds
we tested easily pulled the arm off.

It's fabulous. We've
got a real hit here.

And there we have the wire.

Clare, you were great.

Bert, did you get Steve
Honig's office cleared out yet?

I wanna move in
tomorrow. Oh, yes, soon.

From the looks of that tape, you
gonna be in that office a long time.

Tape looks A-Okay
to Bert, you bet.

Oh, Mr. Warren, I'm
glad you're here too,

because if Miss
Bryant want a new chair,

you gotta sign
the form to order it.

I got it here someplace.

Why do we need a new
chair in Steve's office?

Oh, bad coffee stain
on Mr. Honig's chair.

Bad, bad, bad. Can't do
anything to get rid of it, you know.

Oh, here it is.

I figure why get one
chair when we need two.

One for Mr. Chambers's office,
the other for Mr. Honig's office.

I like to be efficient,
you know. Mm-hmm.

Thank you, Mr. Warren.

All right. I leave
you all alone now.

No more interruption
from Bert. No, sir.

I imagine you're
very surprised, Rob.

But I suppose not half as surprised as
the night you shot Kenneth Chambers.

What are you talking about?

I wasn't even here the night Kenneth
was shot. I was home in bed asleep.

No, you weren't. You were
here in this office after 10:30,

after Bert Tanaka saw Steve and
Mr. Chambers arguing, and after Steve left.

Oh, you've got the
wrong idea, Jessica.

No. You left your calling
card. Your cigar ash.

The morning the
body was discovered,

Lieutenant Flannigan dumped a
large cigar ash from the ashtray.

A cigar ash that could only
have been left by the killer.

And only you, Rob,
smoked a cigar.

It was from a previous day.

It couldn't have been. Bert Tanaka cleaned
the office and the ashtray at 10:30.

His usual routine. You
came back after that.

But you didn't know
that Steve had left,

or that Mr. Chambers would be sitting
in Steve's chair watching a videotape,

because his own
television was broken.

You thought it was Steve you
shot through the back of the chair.

Then when you
discovered you'd killed the

wrong man, you decided
that framing Steve...

for the murder would serve
your purpose just as well.

So you switched chairs
from office to office.

What you had overlooked
was the coffee stain.

Ryan Monroe had spilled coffee on Kenneth
Chambers's chair earlier in the day.

That made it obvious the
chairs had been switched.

Later, you planted the gun in Steve's
car to make him look like the guilty party.

Steve is my friend. I would
never do anything to hurt him.

Is that why you deliberately lied to Jayne,
saying Steve had not been working late,

when in truth he had
been working late?

Bert Tanaka will confirm that.

Well, this makes no
sense at all, Jessica.

In hindsight, it
all makes sense.

Your comment about having to pay
to be alone with the woman you love.

All those times you asked
Jayne to run away with you.

You were serious,
weren't you, Robert?

Why couldn't you just leave
things the way they were?

Oh, Jessica, Jessica.

You really should
not have interfered.

Is that your
solution? To kill me?

Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find
another author for our book review show.

You need help,
Robert. Help from Jayne.

Robert.

I didn't understand,
but I do now.

Violence didn't work before.

It won't work this time.

You-You shouldn't be here. Why?

Would you kill me too?

When I realized that
Robert killed Mr. Chambers,

I convinced Lieutenant Flannigan to
let me use the coffee-stained chair...

as bait to set a trap
and gain a confession.

Actually, I had no
proof whatsoever.

You know, it's Bert
Tanaka who deserves the

real credit for setting
the trap so nicely.

Well, I can't thank
you enough, Jess, ah,

for getting me off the hook
and such a brilliant interview...

and just, well, everything.

Nonsense. Jayne
deserves just as much credit.

She never gave up.

Oh— Speaking of taking credit.

Now you take those
two switched chairs...

It takes a highly trained eye
to spot something like that.

And in all modesty, I've
got to tell you that it was...

That it was I, Lou
Flannigan, police expert,

who sensed the incongruity of those
eminently important pieces of evidence.

I said to myself, "Mere
furniture? I think not."