All language subtitles for Quincy, M.E. S01E03 (A Star Is Dead)

Clara Rhodes saw
him hit Roberta Rhodes

and force barbiturates
down her throat

and I believe her. And I don't.

My daughter was murdered.

Roberta Rhodes,

The movie star?

Six months ago, she insured
her life with us for $1 million.

I say "murder,"
she gets $2 million.

I say "suicide,"
she gets nothing.

I couldn't kill
Bobbi. I loved her.

Now, this case is
just too big for us

to be sitting around
on our evidence.

Our evidence?

Did you park that in
front of this place again?

Did she take her own life?

We have two
eyewitnesses to murder!

Is this the way
you like it, honey?

Oh, yeah, perfect.
You learn fast.

That's because I
have a great teacher.

Uh, there's one
small thing, though.

What's that?

Your chipper is
scraping my ribs.

Holy mackerel, I forgot
I still had it in my pocket.

You're a good sport,
you know that, honey?

Here it is, almost midnight.

Well, you promised me
a weekend of exercise,

fresh air, and togetherness,
and that's what I'm getting.

You said we have to
scrape the entire aft deck

before you varnish it tomorrow.

So?

So? If you do it
alone, it'll take all night.

And I've got better
things planned for you.

Quincy.

Oh, no.

I'm not here.

You heard me say "absolutely,
under no circumstances," right?

I... I did unplug the
telephone, didn't I?

Okay, I'll get rid of him.

First law of the sea.
I could shoot you

for boarding without permission.

I'm sorry, Quincy,

but they want
you on it right now.

Why are you whispering?

Roberta Rhodes.

The movie star?

Yeah.

Oh, my God.

There he is!

Hey, Quincy.

Doc, can we have a statement?

Cut it out. I have
nothing to say.

Hey, Doc, tell us...

As soon as I know
anything, you'll know.

Lighten up, all
right? Lighten up.

Give the man a
chance to do his job.

Oh, Quincy, Sam.
She's in her bedroom.

What time is it?

It's 12:41.

I want temperatures, I
want the room diagrammed.

Who's the photographer?
Me, Quincy.

All right, Ed, start shooting.
Don't miss a spangle.

Who else we got? Freddy Voss.

Get him in here.

Right here, Dr. Quincy.

Oh, God.

All right. Now, I
know it's tough

but don't... don't think about
who she is. Just do your job.

Sam, I want you and Freddy to
start bagging and labeling the glass.

I want a clear diagram of where
every sliver of glass was found, okay?

Watch where you step, Ed.

Okay.

All right?

Well, where you been?

In the living room checking
out the mother. And?

She's too loaded to
make much sense.

But she reported it, didn't she?

Yeah.

If she's sober enough
to dial a telephone,

she's sober enough to
talk. Give me two minutes.

Well, Quincy, what's
the good news?

I'd like to make it simple for
you, Monahan, and say suicide,

but there are too many problems.

A contusion at the
corner of her eye

with incipient swelling.

There's a crashed
mirror here. I don't know.

Could be suicide,
could be homicide,

could be accidental.

Well, that narrows
it down real nice.

Well, you're gonna
have an autopsy report

in a couple of hours.

And these are what,
her cigar band collection?

They're pills to cure migraines.

Pills to ease muscle spasms,

and pills to unclog
nasal passages.

And there was an empty Scotch
bottle found in the bathroom.

Now, all that booze
and all these pills,

add 'em all up, Quincy.
What do you got?

You still got nothing,
Monahan, that would kill her.

Mrs. Rhodes, It. Monahan.

This is Dr. Quincy,
our medical examiner.

My condolences, Mrs. Rhodes.

Are you all right?

Yes. Tell me what happened.

Well, it has the appearance

of acute barbiturate
intoxication.

Suicide.

I can't say yet.

There is a strong possibility.

When I think of all we went
through to put you up there.

What a waste.

Well, if you're
through, get out.

All right, look! Come on!

I'm Dr. Quincy.

I'm the presiding
medical officer.

The victim has been
positively identified

as Roberta Rhodes, actress.

She died within an
hour or two of midnight.

That's all I have to
say now. Thank you.

Dr. Quincy, any
truth to the rumor

that the body of Miss Rhodes
was found completely naked?

Oh, come on, Clarence.

That tactic is wearing
pretty thin, isn't it?

Why not talk to one
of the younger fellas?

They might help
you update your act.

Doctor, given the hour and the
extreme amount of time you spent inside,

you must have some opinion.

Oh, I have an opinion.

I think we've lost
a very nice lady.

Now excuse me, please.

Cute.

Come on, Doc. You've
always leveled with us.

Give us a story.

Un-Unofficially,
Quince, is it a sex case?

Doctor Quincy, how'd it
feel to perform an autopsy

on one of the most
beautiful women in the world?

Don't you ever say
anything like that to me again.

Do you understand that? Ever.

Pathetic.

Have any luck downstairs?

Nah, they got the goon
squad sealing off the lab.

You let that stop you?

I think I've found a
very good possibility:

a young kid in
investigator training.

If he's handled right,

he can keep us
very well informed.

Well, that will help.

I've never seen
such tight security.

Do you think that they connected
Mr. Wonderful to that bedroom last night?

No. If they knew,
they'd interrogate him.

Right now, he's carrying
on his business as usual.

So let's print it, anyway.

And get what? Another denial?

No, I want his name
on police reports,

on coroner's reports.
Then I'll print it.

What did you scratch
up about this Quincy?

Well, he stepped out of a very
lucrative private practice to do this.

Makes about a tenth
of what he could.

A man of character.

Refreshing.

Quincy, I just want you to know

that you have my full support in
the preparation of your evidence.

I mean, I really, really appreciate
the pressures on you and...

Well, we get used to
those things, don't we?

And, given time, we put
all the pieces together.

I guess I'm just not
making myself clear.

We don't have any time, Quincy.

I mean, I, uh, just spoke to Dep.
Mayor Lefeber about the inquest...

What inquest? We don't have a
case. What're you talking about?

Let's not get upset.

Now, this case is
just too big for us

to be sitting around
on our evidence.

Our evidence? What evidence?

We have a smashed mirror
with no apparent cause,

an unexplained contusion,
a fresh copy of the Outcry

with a picture of Roberta
Rhodes on the front page, and this.

T-that's an empty evidence bag.

That's right. It should contain
an empty barbiturate bottle

but it doesn't, because
there was none at the scene.

And so, for my next step,

I'm gonna go home
and go to sleep

because I can't even
think straight anymore.

Quincy.

Good idea. You
just get some rest.

I just wanted to mention
that Dep. Mayor Lefeber

is already requesting a jury.

Why don't you tell the
Deputy Mayor to turn blue?

Good night.

There isn't even a case,
and he wants me to...

It's exhaustion, Sam.

Well, once you get a
couple hours of shuteye,

you'll feel better.

Not me, Quincy. Oh, good grief.

Dr. Quincy, Paul
Reardon of Outcry.

No comment.

Well, I'm not trying to pester
you into comment, Doctor.

I was hoping you'd be
receptive to one of mine.

Well, I'm sorry
to disappoint you.

Doctor, I have highly
confidential information

concerning Miss Rhodes' death.

Someone was with her
last night when she died.

A lover.

Who?

Oh, well, not so fast, Doctor.

This information is
worth an exclusive.

An exclusive? For the Outcry?

Isn't that the paper
that reports love affairs

between movie stars who
never even met one another?

You know, Doctor, our newspaper

has the largest circulation

of any newspaper
in the United States.

Now, I know that's
hard to believe,

but we are very important
to people because we publish

what other newspapers
are afraid to print.

Or too honest to print.

Now, aren't you pre-judging
what I'm about to say?

For instance, what would the
public think when they learn

that Miss Rhodes was with
Congressman Charles Sinclair

when she died?

Reardon, you'd
better get out of here

before I lose my temper.

Now, we have reason to believe

that he's implicated in
a lot more than suicide.

Then why don't you go
to the police? I dare you.

Well, we're a weekly,
Doctor. If I went to the police

it would be in every headline
before I could publish it.

And you think I'm
gonna sit on this news?

Well, yes, because
you don't believe me.

So you'll check it out.

You really are very sure
of yourself, aren't you?

No, I'm sure of you.

I happen to know that you know
the Congressman personally.

You better get out of
here, Reardon. Now.

You know, it's not going to look
good, Doctor, when the public knows

that you deliberately
covered up information.

And I'm telling you

Charles Sinclair was with
Roberta Rhodes in her bedroom

last night.

Look, Charlie, drop
spot number six.

Nobody wants to hear about it.

Number six. Wait a minute.

That's the offshore oil
spot. That's vital here, Pat.

They just had a big
spill in Oxnard last week.

Research says it's a negative.

Everybody's more concerned
about gasoline shortages.

Pat, we have to talk about this.

Use it at the colleges,
if you want to,

but we're not gonna buy airtime

to promote a negative issue.

Camera one, give me a full shot.

Hey, Congressman.

Camera two, zoom in,

Quincy, what the heck
are you doing here?

Don't you need votes?

Well, sure, but, uh,
you wouldn't vote for me.

You doctors are all
rich and conservative.

I'm a flaming liberal,
haven't you heard?

Well, I'm not exactly
a medical mogul.

I did give up my practice.

You gave up medicine?

No, I joined the
Coroner's Office.

I'm a medical
examiner. You're kidding.

Why would I kid
about a thing like that?

Listen, I heard what
you've been saying

about the offshore
oil safeguards.

I agree. I live at the beach.
You couldn't be more right.

Keep saying it and
don't listen to your friend.

We'll stay on it. Maybe not
with, uh, paid spots but, uh,

I'm gonna get that legislation
up when I'm elected.

If anybody can.

Can I buy you some
coffee? You sure can.

Good to see you. Same here.

I'm sorry to hear about you
and Charlotte, the separation.

Well, you knew that there
were some problems between us.

Yes.

You know, each
wanting different things.

You know, I don't begrudge her

her wanting to
spend her life skiing,

but, you know, I'm a
professional meddler.

If I can't be busy changing
the world for the better,

I'm not happy.

Listen to me, campaigning!

And always making sense.

Which makes my reason
for being here more absurd,

but I gotta do it, Charlie.

I gotta ask you
something. It's my job.

Your job? What does the
Coroner's Office have to do with me?

Roberta Rhodes.

Cameras. Position
one. Stand by to roll,

I see.

Charles, we're just
about ready to roll tape.

Yeah, I'll be with
you in a minute.

Uh, Quince,

I know Roberta. I... I knew her.

We were... We were even
seeing each other for a while.

Is that what you
wanted to ask me about?

That, and did you
see her last night?

Good heavens, no. I
haven't seen her for weeks.

We broke it off when I
announced my candidacy.

Then you can
account for last night?

Absolutely.

I was at campaign
headquarters all evening

with a couple of dozen people.

Charles, do you have any idea

how much this
studio costs an hour?

All right, go to work, go to
work, will you, Congressman?

God, it is good to see you.

Why don't you stick around...

No, I gotta get back to work.

Lunch sometime?
We'll have a talk.

I'm gonna count on it.
You gonna vote for me?

You do the right things, I will.

30 seconds to tape.

My daughter was murdered

by Congressman Charles Sinclair.

I don't understand
something, Mrs. Rhodes.

Uh, why now? Why didn't
you tell us this last night?

I... I was afraid. I can't
tell you how afraid I was.

Oh, it... it's no secret.

He and Roberta
were having an affair.

And this worried
his political backers,

and they insisted that it end.

You see, she wasn't good enough,

she wasn't clean enough,

for their paragon
of human virtue.

Early last evening, Roberta
went to his apartment.

And I don't know,
something must've happened

because he followed her
back here around 10:00.

I saw him arrive in
that Jaguar he drives.

It's a mean-sounding car.

I... l... l never
mistake that sound,

They haven't let up for
weeks, and they're not going to!

Roberta, you're being
silly and hysterical.

I'm not!

That newspaper has made
me look like a prostitute!

You could stop them,
Charles, I know you could.

Look at me.

Roberta, look at me.

I'm running for the
United States Senate.

I could very well lose.

Now we can't afford
to be seen together,

not while this
scandal sheet's on us.

And not until Charlotte
and I are divorced.

It wouldn't matter
if you loved me.

Stop being infantile.

My backers have
read me the riot act.

I've got to clean up my life!

Clean up your life?

Am I the dirt in your life?

Is that what that means?

Exactly! I clean it up or
they're finished with me!

Stop that! Leave
her alone. Get out!

Don't hurt me,
Charlie, please. Stop it!

Stop it, Charlie. Don't!

And when I came to,

he was standing over
her and she was dead.

What did you do?

I pretended I was
still unconscious

until after he'd gone.

Mrs. Rhodes, would you show us
where the Congressman hit you?

Yes, certainly. It's...

It's a bad bruise, Quincy.

I'm sorry.

And then later on,

uh, after he'd gone, I
telephoned the police.

And between then and
the time that you arrived,

one of Charles'
henchmen phoned me

and threatened my life

if I were to tell you
what I'm telling you now.

You have no idea
who threatened you?

No.

No, except that he... he
said he worked for Charles.

He had a very deep voice

and his language was obscene.

All right, Mrs. Rhodes, we'll give
you round-the-clock protection.

Oh, thank you, Lieutenant.

What's with you,
Quincy? You sick?

I don't believe her.

I knew Charles Sinclair in the
days when he was a public defender.

Which explains your objectivity.

Listen, now, I know you gotta
speak to the Congressman,

but will you be soft?

For once, will you be discreet?

I appreciate it, Quincy.

I'm always soliciting good
advice on how to do my job.

Will you listen to me?

There are newspapers in
this town that are laying for him.

If they even get a hint

that he was with Roberta
Rhodes on the night of her death

they'll crucify him!

This is hard evidence, Quincy.

Concrete,
stand-up-in-court testimony.

You know why she wanted me here.

I say "murder,"
she gets $2 million.

I say "suicide,"
she gets nothing.

She made a formal
statement, in writing.

I don't care if it's
written in blood.

I spoke to Charles
Sinclair this morning.

He told me he hasn't seen
her for weeks, and I believe him!

You spoke to Charles
Sinclair this morning?

Well, he's an old pal.

You knew about him
and Roberta Rhodes?

Reardon, you know, the
Outcry, he tipped me, and...

Quincy, you hear
me, and hear me good.

The next time you get
tipped, no matter how or who,

I want that
information on my desk

immediately, and
not two hours later.

And if it happens again, I'm citing
you on suppression of evidence.

Are you trying to tell me
that you've been here...

Oh, honey, look at all this
scraping you did all by yourself.

I told you not to do that.

I don't mind.

Besides, I got some sleep.

Yeah, I'll bet you
did. Wow, look at this!

You did the work
of four sailors.

Look at those calluses. Oh.

And look what's rolling in.

Where?

Up there. Clouds.

They're beautiful.

Might even be the kinds
that have the silver linings.

Will you cut it out. You know what
happens if rain hits the bare wood?

They're gonna swell,
they're gonna warp.

They'll get to look
like roof shingles.

You mean we did all this
work just to ruin your ship?

Oh, no, honey. I didn't mean
anything like that. We'll beat it.

I've just gotta get some varnish
down before the trouble comes in.

But I can't.

Something's wrong?

Well, it's...

Oh, Quincy, go do it.

You're no good to
me the way you are.

I'll varnish.

Sure, I'm gonna let you varnish

after you did all this
scraping all by yourself.

Quincy, go.

I am gonna go.

But you gotta promise me
that you're gonna sit right here

and do nothing but
sunbathe, understand?

I want you to relax and
sunbathe. Here, read a magazine.

Not that one. Here.

The Handyman.

Quincy!

Charlie.

What in the world? I don't
see you for three years,

and you turn up
twice in one day.

I have to talk to you, Charlie.

Sure, come on in. Can I
get you a beer or something?

Right now, the only thing I
have a taste for is the truth.

You happen to have
any of that on hand?

Roberta?

Yep, Roberta.

Quincy, I told you,
I haven't seen her...

Charlie, the police
are on their way here.

They have a sworn
statement that you killed her.

Killed her?

That's right.

Quince...

Who would say such a thing?

Her mother.

Funny.

You take people for
granted, then you turn around

and they've got your
life in their hands.

Remember the old adage:
"Be nice to people on the way up

because they can kill
you on the way down"?

You know, I always
just dismissed her

as a harmless, irrelevant drunk.

Well, a drunk she may be,

but her testimony
is far from irrelevant.

But it's not true, Quincy!

Look, I don't know why she lied,

but you gotta believe me.

I couldn't kill
Bobbi. I loved her.

You loved her?

Yes, I did.

But you did stop seeing her?

Quincy, there are some things
that are very hard to explain.

Charlie, It. Monahan
will be here any minute.

Now, mom's not having trouble.

She has an explanation
for everything.

Well, look, I don't
understand her statement!

Why?

I know she didn't approve
of many men in Bobbi's life,

but to accuse me
of murder is crazy!

I think I can fill in the "why."

But I want you to understand the
position you're putting yourself in,

if any of your story is untrue.

Now, that's It. Monahan.

Are we ready for him?

Okay.

Quince. What?

I did lie.

What?

Not about killing her.
That's... But I saw her.

When? Last night.

Quince, I'm sorry.

Look, it just seemed
so innocent. I thought...

No, it... it was too much
of a nightmare to repeat.

People just wouldn't understand.

Well, you're gonna have
to give them a chance.

Oh, if you'll excuse my
rudeness, gentlemen.

I, uh, I tried your front door,

but it doesn't seem to work,

and your driver, I believe,
he was kind enough

to let us come up the back
way. I hope you don't mind.

No, it's all right. I was
engrossed in a conversation

with my old friend.
I'm Charles Sinclair.

Oh, yes, surely. It. Monahan.

Uh, this is Sgt. Brill,

Charles Sinclair.
And this is Miss Polk.

Sit down, would you? You
don't mind, Congressman?

Sit down, Miss Polk.

Miss Polk's my stenographer.

Well, now, I trust
you two gentlemen

have come up with,
uh, something quotable.

Hold it there, Monahan, I
resent that. There's been no...

Never mind what you resent.

I resent private
investigating on public time.

Now, I think it only fair to
inform you, Congressman,

that you've been
formally accused

of murdering Roberta
Rhodes by her mother.

And, uh, Miss Polk here,

she has a, uh, typed
copy of her testimony,

which you can
either accept or deny.

I suggest you read it.

That won't be necessary.
Quincy's already filled me in.

Oh, he has, has he?

Well, then, that should
make it a lot easier for you.

What have you to
say to the allegation?

It's a blatant lie.

All right. Now, if it
wouldn't inconvenience

our City Medical Examiner,

the Police Department would
like hearing your story firsthand.

Miss Polk here, she'll take
it down for public record.

Public record?

Come on, Monahan, you can't...

Naturally, Congressman,
I'll keep all the facts

as confidential as I can.

Providing it all
seems to work out.

We appreciate that.
And so will Chief Thomas.

And the Mayor and the Governor,

they're enthusiastic
supporters of Chuck's.

Quincy, Lieutenant, Pat
Doyle, my campaign manager.

How do you do?

Pretend like I'm not even here.

You go right ahead
with your statement.

And let the record show
it's completely voluntary.

We're all very
anxious for this matter

to be completely put
to rest, you understand?

You were about to
say something, Charlie?

Tell us about last night.

Well, uh, she was
demanding more of me.

She wanted more,
some sort of commitment.

She came here to the
apartment last night.

She was depressed and angry.

Bobbi, you know
you're not to come here.

There could be
reporters following you.

What do you expect?

That was a Dear John phone call.

You don't even have the
decency to tell me to my face?

For once, will you
face the realities?

I'm running for the
Senate. That is my life.

What about my life?
What about my career?

I can't even get a decent
picture anymore, Charlie.

What's happened to us?

We love each other.

The campaign happened.

I went for a swim this morning

and do you know that there
were reporters in the trees?

We can stop them.

All we have to do
is tell them the truth.

That we love each other.

I'm being threatened with the
loss of my major supporters.

That means I could lose it all!

And I've worked hard for it.

What about what I've
worked hard for, huh?

Everything that I've worked
for is right down the drain now.

I could get it back, though.

All I'd have to do is have a
talk with Reardon about us.

What is that?

You wouldn't do that.

Why not?

They're only after
me because of you.

And you're just like
all the rest of them.

My mother, the
studio, all of them.

They're takers. Every
single one of them.

Well, I'm sick
and tired of giving!

If you walk out on me, Charlie,

I'll give Outcry
everything it wants.

That's absurd.
Now, just stop it!

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

You don't love me anymore.

It's over, isn't it?

You don't even have
the guts to say it.

It's all right.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

Bobbi.

Why, Charlie? Why?

Please, Bobbi. I just can't...

For a while, she
couldn't control her crying.

Then she seemed to calm down

and she went into the
bathroom to fix herself up.

She fixed herself up
and then drove home?

Yes.

Later that night, about 12:30,

when I was driving from
a campaign meeting,

I heard the news of her
death over the car radio.

I immediately drove
up to Benedict Canyon

and saw what was going on.

I heard all sorts of rumors:

murder, suicide, drug overdose,

attempted rape, the works.

And then I drove home.

I'll never forget
that drive home.

Charlie, why didn't you come
forward with this last night?

The Congressman's actions

were perfectly
understandable, Doctor.

He was just trying to avoid
unnecessary involvement

in a death that he
had nothing to do with.

Well, why don't you let
him speak for himself?

He's right, Quincy.

I was afraid.

That, uh, bruise under her eye.

She didn't have that when
she was with you last night?

No.

No.

Oh, you were there,
too, Mr. Doyle?

She didn't have it, Quincy.

Well, I think that'll
be enough for now.

I, uh, I'm leaving, Doctor.

Are you a house guest?

No, I'm leaving.

Congressman,
Mr. Doyle, I'll keep in touch.

So, this is the lab report
on the Rhodes telephone.

There were slivers of glass
embedded in the phone case.

And there were no fingerprints.

Clearly, it was the phone
that broke the mirror.

That means that Mrs.
Rhodes was telling the truth.

It means that it's
homicide, clear and simple.

I am telling Lefeber
that we are ready to go...

Wait a minute, will you?

Maybe Roberta Rhodes
threw the telephone

at the mirror in
a fit of temper.

Against whom? Her mother?

Why not? Why not?

Or maybe she was angry at the
person at the other end of the phone.

That's a lot better explanation

for throwing a Princess
telephone than self-defense.

Quincy, what's it going to take?

I can't hold Lefeber
off any longer.

And when he hears
about Mrs. Rhodes...

Time.

All I'm asking
for, is a little time.

Don't pick up the phone and
say we're ready when we're not.

I mean, if he forces the issue,

I'll understand. I
promise you that.

No heel-dragging?

No heel-dragging.

You'll get in line? Get in line.

Take your licks? Take my licks.

With the rest of the team.

Yes. Just give me
a little time, that's all.

You let me in or I
start busting heads.

All right. I don't call
the Deputy Mayor.

But if he calls me, I'm not
giving him any more excuses.

Okay.

Quincy, we've got a
problem on the second floor.

A guy trying to get in
to see Roberta Rhodes.

Says he's her husband.

Oh, no.

Do you have any say here?

Yes, I do, Mister Tucker.

Okay, I recognize
him. So long, fellas.

I guess they're
not football fans.

See, the press has been
using any ruse they can

to get in here
and take pictures.

Look, all I wanna
do is see Bobbi.

Okay, I'll make the
arrangements. Come on.

Her mother's
gonna want a circus.

Roberta wouldn't want that.

But I guess it'll
be what she gets.

Well, it's really up to what
you and Mrs. Rhodes decide.

Ex-husbands don't
count for much, Doc.

But if there's anything
that needs to be done,

any expenses, anything,

I'll be there.

I'll always be there, honey.

When did you find out about it?

Yesterday.

Oh, do I have an alibi?

I was in Europe.

Oh, I didn't mean
anything like that, honest.

She loved violets.

We're gonna have to see that
she gets fresh violets every day.

Maybe you could see
that Mrs. Rhodes gets this.

It was one of
Roberta's favorites.

I think she might want it placed

where people could see it.

"We are most of us
very lonely in this world.

"Those of you who have
loved ones, cling to them

and thank God."

Did she take her own life?

We don't know yet.

I'll be around.

I don't get it. W-What
does it mean?

It means my job,

if anyone finds out
I showed you this.

It doesn't hit the
street for two days.

Well, it's not right.

Quincy's a good guy. He's not...
he's not involved in any conspiracy.

You don't have to
tell me about Quincy.

From what I hear,
he is the best.

But my boss is out to bring
down Congressman Sinclair

and he doesn't care if he
crushes Quincy along the way.

Well, who the hell is your boss

that gives him the right
to print that kind of thing?

Uh, Mr. Reardon, my boss,

has almost got the proof we need

that Sinclair murdered
Roberta Rhodes.

Oh, come on, Quincy's
not even sure it's murder.

Mr. Reardon has got a tape
that would change your mind.

Would change Quincy's mind,
too, but he doesn't trust him.

He thinks he's
part of the cover-up.

Now I personally
do not believe that.

I think that I can
get Mr. Reardon

to kill this story,
forget about Quincy,

and go after Sinclair
with both barrels,

if you will just
give us a little help.

Wait a minute.

I just saw his office
door open. He's free.

Now, are you with me or not?

What is it?

This is Freddy Voss.

He works for Dr. Quincy
down at the Coroner's Office.

I have nothing further
to say to Dr. Quincy,

or to any of his subordinates.

He wants to help us.

Look, I gave Quincy a chance.

I told him what was going on.

He chose to ignore me.

Or he was ordered to.

Mr. Reardon, I've done some
checking, and I am convinced

that Dr. Quincy would
welcome someone

blowing the lid off
the Sinclair case.

Right now, his hands are tied.

He'd lose his job if he
revealed his findings.

And he sent this man
to leak the truth to us?

Oh, no, no, no...

No, he can't know
about this arrangement.

It would put him in
a... a terrible spot.

Uh, Freddy here would
have to do that on his own.

What, you mean me
leak official records?

Yeah, well, I don't
know that I'm interested.

I'm not sure I want to
let Quincy keep his job.

Mr. Reardon, I'm
trying to tell you

Dr. Quincy is caught in a vise,

and unless we let Freddy, here,

leak us the reports as
they become available to...

No, no, no. I... I... I don't
know if I can do that, Floyd.

He doesn't know?

You offer him a deal

and he reneges
before I even accept it.

Now will you just get
out of here, Floyd?

This headline runs.
And we go after Quincy.

Now, wait a second. Maybe
I'd be willing to help, sir,

if I could only hear the tape.

You told him about the tape?

Mr. Reardon, I'm sorry.
You see, I thought...

Floyd, please, leave us.

I wanna talk to Mr. Voss. Alone.

I'm sorry, Mr. Reardon.

I just wanted to keep a
nice guy from getting hurt.

Mr. Reardon, he was
only trying to help.

I promise I won't tell anyone.

Yes, well, the damage is done.

Looks like I'm
forced to trust you.

Look at that date.

The 19th.

The night Roberta died.

Yes?

Hello, Miss Rhodes, Paul
Reardon. How are you?

How am I? I'm exhausted.

Exhausted? Whatever from?

You've ruined everything.

Oh, Miss Rhodes, I
don't think that's quite fair.

Wouldn't it be more accurate
to say that Mr. Charles Sinclair...

Please, Mr. Reardon, I'm scared,

Scared for my life.

Is that why you
don't want to talk?

Because Mr. Sinclair
threatened your life?

Please.

Well, has he or hasn't he?

Has Mr. Sinclair
threatened your life?

Yes.

Oh, you poor thing,

I can understand your terror,

It's hard to believe.

A man who wants to
become a senator so much,

he doesn't care
whether people like you,

people who care about him,

wind up by the wayside.

Now, if I may make
a suggestion or two,

in your own interest,
of course, and 1...

Miss Rhodes?

Are you still there,
Miss Rhodes?

Any questions?

What do you want from me?

I'll keep Quincy from
getting caught in a squeeze

if you get me everything that
comes out of the Coroner's Office

that they turn up with
during their investigation.

All right.

Okay.

I just hope I've done the
right thing protecting Quincy.

You have.

Floyd, I want you in
my office right now.

You did very nicely, Floyd.

You have real flair.

I think you're gonna do
very well on this paper.

Dr. Quincy, I'd like
you to meet Roy Keefer,

Ball Group, CB
Life and Casualty.

How are you, Doc? We're
the carriers for Roberta Rhodes.

Well, you're a
fast-moving outfit.

What can I do for you?

You know, six
months ago, she, uh,

insured her life
with us for $1 million.

Now, I'm sure I look
pretty foolish spouting law

to men of your profession,

but a suicide would
terminate our obligation

to pay the death benefit.

And murder would mean a
$2 million double indemnity.

If indeed it is a murder.

But according to Dr. Astin's
description of barbiturate poisoning,

that would, uh, make that seem
most unlikely, wouldn't you say?

Unlikely, yes.

Impossible, no.

Excuse me a minute, sir. Sure.

What's going on here?

That insurance brokerage,
as a private carrier

has no right to anything
until it's announced.

Really, Doctor, I've known
Roy Keefer for 20 years.

He's a reputable broker
and a darn nice guy.

Now, what's the harm?

The harm is he's
private business,

has no right inside these gates!

Doctor, your nerves are showing.

I would remember that we are all

on the same side.

Then he'll understand
why he's out.

Mr. Keefer.

Doctor.

The slide you're
looking at, that was taken

from the contusion at the
corner of Miss Rhodes' eye.

Sam and I guessed
jewelers' alloy last night.

And Sam's powwow with
the metallurgist confirms it.

All right, now, what
I see here is that

she was, uh, struck
by a piece of jewelry,

no doubt connected to
some human appendage.

And not too long
before she died.

Otherwise, the
swelling on her eye

would've been
more than incipient.

Put the, uh, photo
enlargement on the screen.

I want him to see
the impact pattern.

It looks as if someone's ring

caught her just beside
the supraorbital ridge.

But then we could have murder.

Well, we could
have. We could have.

Right now, all we have is
that someone struck her.

Well, right, but one thing
certainly suggests the other.

Don't jump. Maybe, maybe not.

Now, wait a minute. What
kind of an answer is that?

The evidence is clear.
Quincy, why are you hedging?

The contusion under her eye.
It's more than two hours old.

She had it when she
was with Charles Sinclair.

He lied, all right?

We were very good
friends, the three of us,

he, his wonderful wife,
Charlotte, and myself.

I remember the day
she gave him a ring.

He loved it.

He still wears it.

It's gold and it's platinum.

The same alloy that
struck Miss Rhodes.

Certainly, Dr. Astin. I'll
be happy to cooperate.

We sink in deeper
with every lie.

Take off the ring
and give it to me.

Why?

"Why?"

Because I've busted my
butt giving you four months

of the best political
management money can buy!

Because of me you
can win, Charlie-boy.

Now, pull yourself together.

Look, she's dead.

There's nothing we
can do now to change it.

You're all muscle and
bone, aren't you, Doyle?

You don't understand a thing.

I understand it, Charlie.

Now you understand me.

There's no time and
no money for losers!

If you want that Senate
seat, you do exactly as I say.

Stop thinking like
a loser, Charlie.

Give me the ring.

What do you think you're doing?

What does it look
like I'm doing?

I'm varnishing.

I know how to walk
on a varnished boat.

You told me you were gonna
sunbathe, that you were gonna relax.

You weren't gonna do anything.

No. That's what you
told me I was going to do.

But this is what I'm doing.

All right. Give me that brush.

No, no, get your own brush.

Come on. Varnishing's
what we decided

to do in the first
place, so let's do it.

Can't talk you out of it?

No.

You know something?

You're a very beautiful girl,
but you're very stubborn, too.

Yeah?

Quincy, this is Sam, You'd
better come right away.

It's very important.

What have you got, Sam?

It's a match on the
Congressman's ring, Quince.

The ridges on the design face

fit the shape of the
contusion perfectly.

The Congressman had
to be the one who hit her.

And the epidermal
tracings? Nothing.

No skin oils, no residues.

It's gotta be the cleanest
ring in North America.

Sure. He cleaned it
before he gave it to you.

Quince, you're gonna tell
It. Monahan, aren't you?

The ring, Quince.

It's handmade, the only
one like it in the world.

It's the kind of
evidence cops love.

It only proves he bopped her.
It doesn't prove he killed her.

It doesn't even place
him at the scene.

Look, I know he lied to us,

but I just can't believe he
killed Roberta Rhodes, that's all.

Quincy.

I'll tell him, Sam.
I will tell him.

First thing in the morning.

Oh, no, wait a minute.
Where'd you park that hearse?

How many times
do I have to tell you...

Did you park in front again?

Don't hassle me, will you?

Here are the keys. Park
it wherever you want.

I own the place, I
tend bar, wash dishes...

Hey, Doc, remember me?

Oh, you're a hard man to forget.

Keefer, and you're in insurance.

I'm flattered. I'm flattered.
How are you, Doctor?

This is Danielle
De Soto. Dr. Quincy.

How do you do?

It's her pleasure.
Why don't you join us?

No. Whenever I duck in here
for a drink, I never talk business.

It'll just take a second.
It's kind of important.

I've been doing
some research on you.

On me?

Mmm-hmm. You know something?

You are almost broke.

Always.

What else did you
find out about me?

Well, you're a contradiction.

One minute you're
banging on the gates of hell,

the next you're
bucking for sainthood.

Well, you know what
they say about variety.

Yes, sir, it's a
great aphrodisiac.

You know something else
I found out about you, too?

You're very active
in trying to keep alive

a camp for 200 needy
kids up in Monterey.

Oh, here's your drink.
Scotch and water.

Wow! You really are
thorough, aren't you?

But the camp is gonna go under.

It won't last out the summer.

I was talking with one
of my vice-presidents.

The guy is crazy about kids.

Absolutely crazy about kids.

He said he'd like to contribute
about, uh, oh, $250,000.

Keep that camp
going for a lot of years.

In exchange for?

The truth.

A suicide verdict in the
Roberta Rhodes death.

You're trying to bribe me.

That's right.

But if you tell
anybody, I'll deny it.

Yeah, but I got a witness.

Well, well, what do you say?

Absolutely not.

Absolutely...

You know, you are a child.

You're a 6-year-old kid who
lives in a Never-Never Land.

Don't you ever look out
from under those covers

and see what's happening
in the real world?

I'm talking about $2 million.

$2 million!

Do you know that I could have
somebody killed for $2,000?

I could have a contract
out on somebody for $2,000

and have 100
guys standing in line

waiting to take the job.

That doesn't make
you right and me wrong.

Right or wrong? Do
you think Reardon

was interested in
what's right or wrong?

Do you think Roberta
Rhodes' mother

is interested in
what's right or wrong?

She would lie, steal, cheat,
suppress any evidence she can

to get her hands on that money.

But she's predictable.
We can handle her.

But you, you idealists,
you're gonna bankrupt us.

Why don't you try
taking for a change?

Maybe you'll like it.

Mr. Keefer!

Didn't he forget something?

No.

I'm afraid he did.

Are you sure?

Yes, I'm sure.

Excuse me.

Very nice meeting
you, it really was.

Oh, Hi, Lee. Lee,
I'd like you to meet...

I'm sorry. What's
your name again?

Danielle. Oh, De Soto.

Yes, like the car. I remember.

Very nice meeting
you. This is Lee...

You won't believe this.

An insurance guy
comes in here...

There're no strings on either of
us, Quince. Your life is your own.

Only, please, not while I'm
varnishing your lousy boat!

Will you listen to me? Quincy.

Just a minute, will you?

Listen, I hate to interrupt
you two lovebirds,

but I want you to
listen to this. Come on.

Honey, I want to explain the
lady there. I mean, I never...

.right now, Jerry.

What is this dramatic
breakthrough?

We have incontrovertible
evidence that Roberta Rhodes

was savagely beaten
moments before her death.

Microscopic analysis of a ring

belonging to a
major political figure

was performed by
the City Coroner.

This analysis proves that
it was this political figure,

wearing this ring
who mercilessly beat

and subsequently
murdered Roberta Rhodes

by forced barbiturate poisoning,

To whom does this ring belong?

Congressman Charles Sinclair.

What's this all about? Quincy?

Adam, Sam, I want
everybody in here.

Every doctor, every janitor,
every secretary, every technician.

And I want them
here on the double!

Bad news travels
faster than I do.

How could you do it? A
piece of evidence like that ring.

How could you hold
that back from me?

Look, I only got the
report two hours ago.

You were home
then, not at the station.

Besides, I knew there
was an explanation for this.

I thought I might
find out what it was.

By morning, no doubt.

You are not a district attorney.

You are not a detective.
You are a scientist.

Your job is to interpret
evidence, not conceal it.

But Charlie Sinclair
is a friend of mine!

Look, your friend lied to you
on two separate occasions.

What makes you think
he's not gonna try for three?

He may have changed,
but he's not a murderer.

Clara Rhodes saw
him hit Roberta Rhodes

and force barbiturates
down her throat

and I believe her.

And I don't.

Fellows, you'll both
have your day in court.

The inquest goes
tomorrow morning.

What?

Did you think I could hold
Lefeber off after this bombshell?

But I need more time!

Oh, really?

A few hours ago,
you seemed to think

you could handle
everything before morning.

Well, that's what you have:
until tomorrow morning.

There are some of you here

whose face and
name I don't know.

I'm gonna have to do
something about that,

because we're a family.

Now, nobody's gonna ever
accuse you of being overpaid.

We all know there's a lot more
money to be made on the outside.

Any of you want a
piece of that action,

nobody can fault
you for going after it.

But if you choose to stay here,

then you must not, you cannot,

violate the code of confidentiality
that exists in this office.

It's just too darned important!

A leak from this office can let a
murderer go free to murder again.

A man is gonna have to
face a coroner's inquest

and probably be
indicted for murder.

I happen to think he's innocent,

but I needed more
time to prove it.

One of you took that time
away from me and him.

One of you
disgraced this office,

and whoever you are,
you better get out of here,

and you better
get out of here now.

Go back to work.

I am Robert J. Astin. A-S-T-I-N.

I'm the Administrative Deputy
Coroner for the City of Los Angeles.

The purpose of any inquest

is to bring to light pertinent
information surrounding a death.

Now, with us, at the Mayor's
request, is a standing jury

who will hear,
examine the evidence,

and recommend to
the District Attorney

whether or not he should proceed

upon an investigation of murder.

Now, this is not a court of law,

but it is a legal
court of inquiry.

Dr. Quincy is the
presiding medical examiner.

It. Monahan, the
police homicide liaison.

And, uh, let the record show

that one of the subpoenaed
witnesses, Charles Sinclair

is not in attendance.

The bailiff will make every
attempt to please find out why

and notify the
appropriate marshals.

Dr. Quincy, would you state for
this body the official cause of death?

Miss Rhodes' death was caused

by an overdose of barbiturates.

I believe they were
self-administered

and with forethought.
Her intent, suicide.

Order. Order.

It. Monahan, is the
Police Department

in agreement with this finding?

No, we are not.

While an overdose of barbiturates
is what killed Miss Rhodes,

there is circumstantial evidence
and conflicting testimony

which makes it
impossible for my office

to dismiss the
feasibility of murder.

Order.

Then it is the immediate
task of this body

to examine that
evidence and testimony.

No empty barbiturate container

was found anywhere about
the bedroom or the premises.

Now, there was a dressing
room mirror that was shattered,

we believe, by a
thrown telephone.

And the telephone in question

was wiped clean of fingerprints

by a party, or parties, unknown.

There was a fresh bruise

at the corner of Miss Rhodes'
eye. In studying the bruise,

Dr. Quincy and I discovered
platinum-gold tracings.

This, with the pattern
of the contusion,

suggested that she'd been
hit by a piece of jewelry,

probably a ring.

Then you compared the contusion

with the ring worn by
Congressman Sinclair

and discovered what?

It was a perfect match.

Mrs. Rhodes, in your statement

you allege that Charles Sinclair

was beating your
daughter when you entered.

You attempted saving her, and you
yourself were beaten unconscious.

Yes.

He... he struck
me with his fist.

Right... right there.

If there're no further
questions, Lieutenant.

I have none.

And you, Dr. Quincy?

Oh, yes, yes.

Yes.

Mrs. Rhodes, I understand
that your daughter's life

was recently
insured for $1 million.

Y-Yes.

R-Roberta knew that if
anything happened to her,

that I'd be left with nothing.

I-It was at her
urging, actually.

The policy is, what,
about six months old?

So the decision this panel makes

is rather important
to you, isn't it?

Suicide releases the
insurance company

from paying the death benefit,

and murder means
double indemnity.

That's a $2 million
double indemnity.

Yes, that's a-all
the m-more reason

why Roberta would
never take her own life.

Sh-She loved me.

Why should she
take out such a policy

if-if she was the kind of girl
who was going to kill herself

and leave me all
alone with nothing?

Uh, we had a reporter watching
her house day and night.

He saw Sinclair
arrive and go inside.

Was this alleged
reporter on the property?

No. He was outside the
fence, on public property.

However, Miss Rhodes'
bedroom opens into a corridor

which can be observed
through glass doors.

He used a, uh, telephoto lens.

Do you have the pictures?

Unfortunately, no.

Well, he's new.

He used the wrong exposure.

Let the record show
that our lab technicians

were unable to see in
Miss Rhodes' bedroom

from outside the fence, even
while using a telephoto lens.

Order. Order.

Let the record also
show that this is hearsay.

For all we know,
complete fabrication.

If there really is a reporter
who saw the murder

why isn't he here now?

He is.

I was there.

I saw Congressman
Sinclair go into the house.

I only saw half the room,
but it was the busy half.

I have never been so
frightened in my entire life.

I heard screaming and crying.

And then it was quiet.

It was a long time before
the Congressman left.

Dr. Astin?

Why didn't you take this
information to the police?

I was afraid.

Aw! Afraid?

For your life? Come on, now.

I didn't mean I was
afraid of losing my life.

I was afraid of losing my job.

You see, I wasn't
standing on the street,

as I told Mr. Reardon.

When I saw the
Congressman arrive

and I heard the screaming,

I moved in closer, right
onto private property.

That's when I saw
the Congressman

standing over Miss Rhodes' body.

She was not moving.

I knew I could be fired

if I told anyone
exactly what I saw.

Mr. Reardon has
very strict rules.

Do you know what the
penalty is for perjury?

Dr. Astin, I must protest.

Dr. Astin, the Outcry has
stolen confidential documents

from the Coroner's Office.

Now I believe they
have resorted to perjury!

Doctor, may I speak?

No, I haven't finished yet!

Quincy. Quincy.

You may speak,
Mr. Reardon, if it's pertinent.

It is very pertinent!

Now, this personal
cohort of Charles Sinclair

is confusing issues

in an attempt to delay
these proceedings.

We have two
eyewitnesses to murder

right here in this room: Clara
Rhodes and Floyd Baker.

Now, with the lethal
ring already in evidence,

what more does the
District Attorney need

to initiate a
warrant for murder?

Order! Order! Order!

Mr. Reardon, your
observations notwithstanding,

this inquiry will determine

what the District
Attorney needs.

Dr. Quincy, do you have
any further questions?

No, sir.

It. Monahan, do you have
any further questions?

None.

Well, it's already, uh,

two-and-a-half
minutes past noon.

I suggest that we
adjourn until, uh, 2:00,

at which time I
will ask the jury

to consider their findings.

How's it going?

Rotten.

Sinclair never showed? No.

You did the best
you could, Quince.

Well, if you ask me,
Charlie Sinclair let you down.

You gotta admit an
innocent man doesn't run.

Do you know anybody
who goes voluntarily

to their own lynching?

Sorry, I've got an
"all points" out for him.

As of now, he's a fugitive.

Quincy, I... I
gotta talk to you.

Not now, buddy.

Quincy, I gotta. It was me.
I thought I was helping you.

What do you mean, helping?
What are you talking about?

They conned me, Quincy.
Up in Reardon's office.

They had a tape.

What tape? Who?

A tape of a phone conversation

between Roberta Rhodes and
the Outcry the night that she died.

Wait a minute.

Are you telling me there's
a telephone conversation

between Roberta and Reardon
and they've got it on tape?

Yeah, yeah. He tapes all his
calls. He's got a wall full of them.

Sam, get the bailiff.
I want a court order.

That's not gonna do any good,
because the tape's got Roberta

threatening to have
Reardon killed by Sinclair.

Quince, you need a tape
like that like a hole in the head.

Sam, if that tape says
what he thinks it says,

you think Reardon
would miss the opportunity

to play it here
for this audience?

You think the tape was doctored?

I'll bet Sinclair's life and my
career on it. Move it, Sam.

You wait here, honey. Come on.

Quincy. Quincy, I'm sorry.

Let's try to make
up for it. Come on.

Where are they
going in such a hurry?

Men's room?

Hey, what is this?

You better hold it
right there, buster.

This is not Nazi Germany!

That's right, it's California

and this is a
California court order

for evidence suppressed from
a murder investigation. Read it.

This is the one.
Dated night before last.

I want the phone call they
edited to make that one.

As you know, Mr. Reardon,

the job of the Medical
Examiner's Office

is to examine all
physical evidence

involved in the loss of life.

But there is another
part to our job,

which maybe even you
don't know much about.

It's called a
psychiatric autopsy.

Now, in apparent suicides,

it's more important
than physical evidence.

You see, I've been
looking for that missing link

in the chain of events

that finally drove Miss
Rhodes over the edge

and made her kill herself.

Doctor, your
biggest missing link

is Congressman Charles Sinclair.

I apologize for
interrupting the testimony.

I'm afraid I owe more than
an apology to this court.

Thank you, Congressman Sinclair.

There are more than
apologies to be considered here.

Some very serious charges
have been made against you.

I understand that.

And I assume full responsibility

for Roberta Rhodes' death.

All right, calm down.
Just calm down.

Congressman, if you wish

to make a statement
for the record

the Police Department is
represented by It. Monahan.

Yes, I... I would.

Quincy, I'm sorry I lied to you.

I, uh, I hit Roberta...

I know everything you
did. Give me five minutes.

I know everything. I
found some new evidence.

Please, Charlie,
give me five minutes.

Dr. Astin, before you let
the Congressman testify,

I was about to introduce
some new evidence

which will have a strong bearing

on the outcome of this hearing.

It certainly can't
be more important...

Everybody in this
room will be enlightened,

including the Congressman,

by a tape we just obtained
from Mr. Reardon's office,

of a phone conversation
he had with Miss Rhodes

on the night she died.

The night she died?

Doctor, that tape
was illegally obtained

and is not admissible
evidence in a court of law!

This is not a court
of law, Mr. Reardon.

This is a coroner's inquest.

Would you like us to assume

that you object
to the jury hearing

that conversation
with Miss Rhodes?

Well, someone
could misunderstand.

I have nothing to hide!

I'm a reporter in
search of the truth!

Thank you. Sam.

Is it possible, Mr. Reardon,

that you were the last person

to be with Miss Rhodes
on the night she died,

and not Congressman Sinclair?

Don't be ridiculous, Quincy.

Oh, I don't mean in person.

But maybe you spoke
to her on the telephone.

This is gonna cost you
a fortune in litigation.

Ladies and
gentlemen of the jury,

listen carefully and please
note the mention of the hour.

Hello?

Hello, Miss Rhodes,
Paul Reardon.

How are you?

Exhausted.

Really? So early?
It's not quite 11:30.

Have we been overdoing
it tonight, Miss Rhodes?

Well, listen, you can go
to sleep in five minutes

and with a clear conscience.

All you have to
do is corroborate

what we already know:

that you and Charles Sinclair
were having a love affair.

Leave me alone.

No, no, no, we don't
hang up, Miss Rhodes,

going nudie.

We wouldn't wanna
be a centerfold, now,

would we, Miss Rhodes?

Go ahead, I don't care.

Ah! You're depressed. I'm sorry.

But please don't make
us print those skin shots.

I mean, we can make them look

like you were entertaining
the Los Angeles Rams,

Oh.

You are so filthy.

What do you want from me, huh?

You know very well what we want.

Why don't you tell him
and get it over with?

Go to bed, Mother.

Stupid girl. He
doesn't love you.

Go to bed, Mother.

You always were a stupid girl.

If it wasn't for me,
you'd be fat and pregnant

with that garage mechanic.

Or still married to
that football bum!

Hello, Miss Rhodes? Hello?

Are you still there,
Miss Rhodes?

Yes, I'm still here.

Well, that's fortunate.

For a moment I
thought I'd been cut off.

You have been cut off.

You're not getting
anything from me.

Oh, well, now, that's
unwise, terribly unwise,

Mr. Reardon,

please, you've done just about
everything that you can do to me.

You made me look
like a prostitute...

Please, stop it.

I can't hear you, Miss Rhodes,

Would you repeat that for me?

Why do you hate him?

What did he ever do to you?

Oh, well, I tell you, I
hate bleeding hearts

with sloppy morals,

Will you just stop
the calls, please?

Just stop the calls.

No, Miss Rhodes,

The Omen; never stops until it
gets its man. Now you know that.

Now make it easy on yourself,

Tell us about the Congressman.

Get it off your lovely chest, and
let us serve it up to the people.

You are sick.

A 10-minute exclusive

gets you off the hook. I swear.

We don't want you. In
fact, we rather like you.

The person we want is
that smiling Ivy Leaguer

who wants to sweet-talk
this country down the toilet.

Now, what do you
say, Miss Rhodes?

An exclusive, or do we escalate?

No!

And you know what you can
do with your filthy newspaper!

Well, now, I'm disappointed
in you, Miss Rhodes,

Let me tell you
how disappointed.

From here on in, there's
going to be 10 reporters

following you day and night.

You won't be able to
talk to your gardener

without it becoming an orgy.

You won't leave
your house alone.

You won't take a walk alone.

We'll plaster the front page

with pictures, naked
pictures... Stop it!

It was you! You!

It was you!

And all the time I thought
it was him! It was you!

You wouldn't let her rest! No!

Order.

It was you! It was you!

Please, Mrs. Rhodes.
Take the stand, please.

Oh, it doesn't matter anymore!

It does matter.

Your daughter didn't
intend for her lover

to be accused of her murder.

Roberta had so many
people taking from her.

I was one of them, I guess.

But we were afraid that the
Outcry would ruin her career

and she'd lose everything.

I would lose everything.

She'd spoken to me about
her anguish over this situation

and I was no comfort to her.

Oh, Dr. Quincy, this
is very difficult for me.

I understand.

Later that night, I'd just
settled down to have a drink

and I heard the mirror shatter,

And when I got up to go in,

my foot caught in the
hem of my dress and I fell,

I... l fell against the
piano and I hit my head.

That's how I got this.

And I was knocked out.

And when I came to, I went in

and it was too late.
It was way too late,

And then I saw the pill
bottle on the nightstand.

I was absolutely in shock,

I took the pill bottle.

And the telephone?

Yes, I wiped that off.

I didn't want to be
a poor old woman

living in a boarding
house somewhere, alone.

I didn't wanna be poor.

Lieutenant, in the
light of the change

in Mrs. Rhodes testimony,

does the Police Department
wish to withdraw its objection

to Dr. Quincy's
verdict of suicide?

The Police Department
will support that verdict.

The Coroner's Office won't.

What?

I don't believe that a
declaration of suicide

answers away the behavior
that I saw and heard of today.

I heard of abuses
today so cold, so vicious,

so unrelenting, that
they drove a woman away

from that most precious
of all possessions:

her life.

Now,

there is no word that explains
that measure of anguish

that drove her to her death.

Ladies and gentlemen,
let us take a moment

and do an accounting of abuses.

Let us do an accounting
of 23 scathing articles

by Mr. Paul Reardon
of the Outcry.

23 weeks of unrelenting abuse,

punctuated only by

heaven knows how many
threatening phone calls.

23 weeks of reporters

violating her life
and her privacy,

and why?

Why?

Because she refused to
betray the man she loved.

She endured it for him
because she loved him.

She endured it for him after
he had turned his back on her

to pursue his own ambitions.

He was a weak man.

But you,

oh, you, Mr. Reardon,
you're the one.

You're that special
breed of leech

that latches onto
the gentle souls,

the vulnerable, the defenseless.

You chipped away
and chipped away

at a fellow human being

that had never done
one iota of harm to you.

You maligned and denigrated
and maddened a woman

who could turn
to no one for help.

And why?

To damage a man you
had never even met.

You're a sick man, Mr. Reardon.

And evil.

You drove her to
her death just as sure

as if you had plunged
a knife into her heart.

And it was premeditated.

23 weeks of premeditated murder.

And if there is a
God in His Heaven,

He certainly knows
what you have done.

And His justice is a
lot better than ours.

Dr. Quincy, I will turn
the results of this hearing

over to the District Attorney

for possible charges of perjury.

And let the record show

that Roberta Rhodes died
of barbiturate poisoning.

Self-induced.

Congressman Sinclair?

What happens now? Are
you going to withdraw?

I've already done that.

What about the tape? Would you
have pulled out if you'd known about that?

I withdrew because of myself.

It has nothing to
do with the tape.

Just one more
question. Congressman!

Cut it out. That's
enough. Please.

Let's let it go.

Forget it. It's over.

Oh, Quincy.

Nobody could be more
ashamed of me than I am.

Does that mean
you're gonna quit?

My head is in 17
different places.

I've gotta find out who
I am, where I'm going.

Well, I hope you make
it. You know that, Charlie.

Thank you.

Better go out that way.

What is your response
to the, uh, charge

that the, uh, tape was doctored?

I support it whole-heartedly.

You admit that the
tape was doctored?

Of course. After it was illegally
taken from the offices of Outcry

by co-conspirators of
Congressman Sinclair.

But you'll be able to read...