All language subtitles for MSW s02e08 Hat.eng

You see, grays never win
on weekdays.

[Woman]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

[Cheering]

They think the race was fixed,
and I had something to do with it. That's ridiculous.

One hour before the race,
I get sick like a dog.

If I thought she iced the guy,
I'd give her a bunch of roses and a good lawyer.

- She didn't.
- Nobody said she personally killed Bowen.

But she could be an accomplice.

Using my own tranquilizer gun
would be kinda stupid, wouldn't it?

Paulie, you know
where we're goin'. Where are you taking me?

An early lunch.

Separately, it's peanuts, Vince.

Put it together,
and we're chokin'.

How did we know Mike Gann
was bettin' all over town?

I can add.

[Ringing]

Yeah?

Yeah.

It's Vegas.

Hey, Tony.
How's it goin'?

Tony, take it easy.
Remember your blood pressure.

Anchors Ahoy? Yeah,
I got a little action on it.

Uh, 20 large.
You got 50?

Yeah. I know he's 20-to-1
on the morning line.

Tony, let-let me
look into it, okay?

I'll take care of it.
Don't worry.

That creep trainer Bowen?

And that lousy vet?

They're tryin' to put over
another one.

[Bugle]

Take it easy,
you bone-headed plug,

or I'll turn you into dinner
for my pet Doberman.

Whoa, boy. Whoa.

We got a problem, Mike?

No problem, Jackie Boy.
He's sound as a dollar.

Or, in this case,
maybe a million.

Here you go, Mr. Bowen.
I want the other bridle, kid, and bring the blinkers.

Anchors Ahoy never uses blinkers.

Don't argue with me, dummy.
Get the other one. And don't give me any more lip.

Grooms.
Think they know everything.

Hey, Jack, what the hell
is he doing here?

Better get outta sight.

Vince Shackman?
This is a surprise.

You like surprises,
Bowen? So do I.

Except I like
to do the surprising.

Funny, looks like
any other 20-to-1 nag to me.

Except your friend
the vet, Mr. Gann,

put 20 big ones down on his nose.

Ah, you know Mike.
He likes long shots.

Oh, yeah, yeah.
I remember. What was it? Last year, you, uh-

You ran a long shot
and got very lucky.

That horse cost me
a couple hundred G's.

Most of it to Mike Gann.
It happens, Vince.

But not today. Anchors Ahoy
is just out for exercise.

I hope so. I hope so.

Because if that nag should suddenly
get hit by a bolt of lightning and win,

I might come to the conclusion
that there's something crooked goin' on here.

You're crazy, Vince.
You can't make a horse win.

Now, I don't know
how you did it, but I will.

And when I do, number one-
I'm gonna get my money back.

Number two- I'm gonna
have Mr. Guzmann here pay you a little visit,

and we'll find out how good
your health insurance is.

Don't threaten me.
Threaten you?

Threaten you, Bowen?
Whatever gave you that idea?

Jack, maybe- maybe we
should rethink this.

It's a little late for that now.

Anyway, what can he prove? Nothin'.

Well, here you go, Mr. Bowen.

It's about time.
Now, take Anchors Ahoy over to the paddock and get him ready.

So I said to my wife,
if the kid wants to join the navy, so let him.

You know what a college education
is worth these days?

Go down to
the unemployment office and ask around. That'll be 21.50, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, thank you, Ernie,
and keep the change.

Thanks. I'm sorry your niece
won't be riding a winner, but like I said, she's up on a real dog.

If you're interested,
I got a hot one in the sixth. I'm not much of a bettor.

That's what I used to say
before my brother-in-law dragged me to the races.

So now I put my dough
in a money belt under my shorts.

That way I gotta undress
to get to my cash.

Well, that's one way of
holding on to your money.

Are you kiddin'?
If I had a hot one, I'd go to the window in my birthday suit.

[Bugle]

[No Audible Dialogue]

Hey, Tracy!

AuntJess!
Oh, I can't believe it!

Oh, you're so terrific to come!
Well, did I make the big race?

Absolutely!
Why didn't you tell me? I would have met you.

Oh, no, no, no.
I was just passing through on my way to San Francisco,

and Martin told me that
you were still waiting for your first winner.

Well, I hope I can
maybe bring you some luck. Oh, I'm gonna need something.

Dad was here last week.
He doesn't think much of having a jockey in the family.

Oh, well, give him- give him
time to get used to the idea.

Remember when he swore
he'd never use unleaded gas? [Laughs] Yeah.

Oh, there's my friend, Vicky.
Vicky! Vicky!

Vicky! Vicky!

Oh! Men!
They drive me crazy.

Especially Latin ones.
And especially the ones I'm married to.

What's he done now?
Well, he's sick.

But do you think he'll go to bed?
No, Senor Machismo is going to try to ride this race.

AuntJess, this is my friend,
Vicky Gallegos.

Oh, I'm delighted Vicky.
Pleased to meet you too.

Thank you.
Her husband, Carlos, is a terrific jock.

He's smart-
Smart and stubborn.

Maybe if you
talked to him, Tracy.

Come on, Vicky. If you can't get
through to him, nobody can. Oh, you flatterer.

I'm telling you, Mr. Bowen.
My stomach's killing me.

So I'll get you over to the infirmary
right after the race.

Sorry, I don't think I can ride.
Amigo, you have to ride, and you know why.

Anchors Ahoy has
got to win this race.

Now listen, Gallegos,

I went to a lot of trouble
to bring you into this country.

And I can send you
home again just as easily.

Do not threaten me. There are
things that I can tell also.

But you won't, Carlos.
And you know why.

Carlos!

Oh!

Oh. What the hell is
the matter with you?

It's okay. It's okay.
It's only my stomach.

Oh, honey, you need a doctor!

Oh, yes, you're right.
Where's the infirmary? It's right around the corner.

No, I am okay.
[Groans]

No, Carlos. You're gonna
come with me and no argument.

- Come on.
- Okay, kid. That's it.

You're taking Carlos's place
on Anchors Ahoy.

Me?
Do I look like I'm talkin' to Willie Shoemaker?

Yeah, you. You want
the stakes race or don't you?

You go ahead, honey.
Carlos is not gonna ride anything today.

Okay, Mr. Bowen.
Thank you.

AuntJess-
Your aunt, huh?

Oh, nice to meet you.
Thank you.

Use my box.
Just tell the attendant.

Why, thank you.
Well, good luck, Tracy. Thank you!

I'll see you after the race.

Now listen carefully, kid.
Vicky, I'll give you a hand.

Here's how I want you to ride this race.
I want you to do everything I tell you...

and no questions-
you understand? Yes, sir.

[Man Over P.A.]
Fifteen minutes to post.

Number 7, Ivan The Naughty...

will carry an additional weight of
three and one-quarter pounds.

Excuse me. I wonder-
could I borrow your binoculars just for a moment?

Oh, you certainly may.
Oh, you must be a friend ofJack Bowen's.

Uh, I'm Christine Carpenter.
And this is my husband, Cliff.

And you are absolutely right.

I mean, how can you tell
which horse to bet on- Christine-

She just asked for your binoculars,
not a lecture on handicapping.

Oh, shut up, Cliff.
I'm just trying to be friendly.

Thank you very much.

[Laughing]

Thank you very much.
I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, I'm pleased
to meet you, Jessica.

Oh, Christine,
for heaven's sake!

Cliffie, it's right there for any fool
to see, if you'd only open your eyes.

Excuse me.
What's there plainly to see?

Your scarf.
Maroon and beige silk.

See, right here-
Number 5.

Lunch Hour.
Maroon and beige silks.

Now that is an omen
if I ever saw one.

Oh! Hi, Chris. Hi, Cliff.

Kiss, kiss. I see you three
have met already.

And that's not all.
Jessica has given me...

my first winner for the day.

Something about
the color of my scarf.

I hope the horse knows.

Well, Chris is very deep
into signs and portents.

Personally, I wish she'd learn
to handicap scientifically like me.

Now here's your winner
right here for this race-

It's, uh, Egg Roll.
You see, everybody knows that winners come in threes.

Now post six
has won twice already.

So it figures the winner of this race
is gonna be post six- Egg Roll.

Why, yes, of course.
[Laughs]

It's, uh, very scientific.

Uh, how is Carlos?

Oh, he's resting.
They had to pump his stomach.

Somethin'he ate, I guess.

Well, I'm glad it wasn't
anything more serious.

Mm-mmm.
Is Mr. Bowen going to join us here?

Oh, no. He doesn't ever
watch his horses race.

He stands in the paddock
near the stall and hears the race over the loudspeaker.

It seems Mrs. Carpenter isn't the only
superstitious one around here.

How about that Anchors Ahoy?

Do you think I might, uh,
risk a couple of dollars on him?

You want the truth?
Mm-hmm.

He's not a 20-to-1 shot
for nothin'.

Oh, dear. And I was hoping
that Tracy finally had a winner.

Well, not this race.

Now, you see, personally,
I like Frost Boy.

See now, I really think
he's ready. See? He's right down there.

See, he- [Gasps]
Ooh, I better hurry if I wanna make my bet.

Those lines can be,
as Carlos would say, "ter-ree-ble."

Between you and me,
Frost Boy hasn't got a prayer.

Oh?
No. He's a gray.

You see, grays never win
on weekdays.

Oh, really? Ah.
How odd.

[Man Over P.A.]
There's been a change of riders on Anchors Ahoy.

Tracy Macgill
will replace Carlos Gallegos.

There will be no overweight.

And a late scratch- Frost Boy.

Oh. Uh-

Now, remember what
I told you- Egg Roll.

Oh, yes. Yes, I'll remember.

[Mouthing Words]

Number 3.

Bet's off, Shackman.
Let's go.

What the hell do you
think you're doing? This is my track.

I keep it clean.
That means I don't want scum like you hangin' around.

I got as much right
to be here as anybody. Number 3?

Anchors Ahoy. 20-to-1.
What do you know that nobody else knows?

I had a hunch, that's all.
I had a hunch.

Ah, come on, you dirtbag.
That's a lot of action you're layin' off.

Now, what's goin' on?
I'm a racin' fan, that's all. I'm a racin' fan.

And your pals in Vegas,
they're all philanthropists. Now let's hit the bricks.

Go ahead. Push it.
It's been a long time since...

I've been able to rearrange
somebody's face.

What is this?
Specially one as pretty as you.

[Man Over P.A.]
Two minutes to post.

Oh, Vicky,
I'm sorry about Frost Boy.

Why, what about him?
Well, didn't you hear the announcement?

No.
He's been scratched.

Oh! Well, I guess I can get
a refund after the old race.

Now I can help you
cheer on Tracy.

Honey, she's going to need
all the cheers she can get.

[Man Over Radio]
Mr. Phillips, we got a fistfight on the second level.

One of them has got a knife.
I'm gonna need some backup.

We're on our way.

Get out of here, Shackman.
I catch you around here again, I will not be so friendly.

[Man Over P.A.]
The flag is up.

She's- She's coming up!

[Cheering]

I can hardly believe it!
She won!

Me either! Somebody
must've said a novena!

Champagne is definitely in order.

Maybe even caviar. Do you know
how much she just won?

Ten percent of the purse.
That's 5,000 buckaroos!

Hey! Hey!
We're needing a doctor!

Mr. Bowen's back in the stall.
Looks like he's passed out or somethin'!

What?

[Gasps]
Oh!

[Screams]

All right, folks. Can you
open up? Let me through. Let the gentleman through please.

Hi, Pat.
Lieutenant.

Oh. Nasty.

AuntJess!

What's going on? Somebody said
that Mr. Bowen is dead.

I'm afraid it's true, Tracy.
He was murdered.

Murdered?
Oh, no! By-Why?

Mrs. Fletcher, the police
would like to talk to you.

Oh, yes, of course.
Tracy, I'll be right back.

Mrs. Fletcher.
Lieutenant Misko, Homicide.

I understand
you found the body. Uh, yes. That's right.

Did you move it?
Well, I turned him over to see if he was alive.

And the groom found you
out at the paddock. Is that right?

Oh, yes. I was on my way
to congratulate my niece.

She won the last race.
Oh, your niece.

That'll be Tracy Macgill.
Yes.

So what happened
to Carlos Gallegos? Well, he became ill.

Mr. Bowen had to change riders
at the last minute.

Is that right?

So tell me exactly
what you saw and did.

Oh, well, uh-

Well, I saw Mr. Bowen lying
right there on his side... dead.

How did you know
he was dead?

Well, actually I didn't
until I turned him over...

and saw the tranquilizer dart
sticking out of his chest.

I suspect, you see,
that he tried to turn,

staggered towards
the back wall of the stall,

probably to get to his jacket,
which is hanging right here on the wall.

This is what you suspect?

Well, I did happen to notice
there was a very heavy object...

in the right hand... pocket,
and I thought it might be a gun.

Uh, also-

Lieutenant, look.

This is just pure
speculation on my part.

You sound more like an eyewitness.
You were saying, uh, "also" what?

Well, with the straw
mussed on the floor as it is...

and the dirt on the knees
of his trousers,

all of this suggested that-
that he tried to crawl,

then he tried to stand up...

in that direction.

Grabbed for his jacket,
but didn't make it.

No kidding.

Lieutenant, if you will simply
please just take a look at those...

fingernail scratches on this plank,
and then look at the tips of his fingers-

I mean, they are raw and bloody.

What are you, some kind of cop?

No. No.
I'm a writer.

Novelist. Mystery.
Murder mystery.

I get it.
Like Charlie Chan, huh?

Swell.
Lieutenant,

is there a gun
in that pocket?

Lt. Misko, we've located
Mike Gann, the veterinarian.

Did you check the bag?
Mm-hmm. His tranquilizer gun is missing.

Well, how about that?

Mrs. Fletcher, you may go.
Thank you very much for your assistance.

Oh, well, I'm delighted to help.
You've given me more help then I'll need.

Well, believe me, Lieutenant,
I have no intention ofbutting in to your case.

My gut tells me different.
Maybe it's indigestion.

[Tracy] Look, I don't know
what you're talking about.

I was put on that mount
20 minutes before post time.

We're prepared to take
your statement, Miss Macgill.

Tracy, what's the problem?
Excuse me, ma'am. This is track business.

They think the race was fixed
and that I had something to do with it. Oh, that's ridiculous.

Miss Macgill, I'm not going to discuss
this matter in full view of the general public or your relatives.

I suggest you come with me now,
or I'll be forced to suspend you.

You go ahead, Tracy.
I'm sure this thing can be straightened out.

Mr. Phillips,
Lieutenant, over here!

Okay, so the tranquilizer gun's mine.

Big deal. I mean, obviously
someone stole it from my bag.

I worked around that paddock
all morning. I didn't watch my bag every minute.

Anybody-Anybody
could've taken it.

What's the matter, Gann?
You and Bowen have a falling out?

Oh, come on, Pat. I mean,
I just work for the guy, you know. That's it.

I had no reason on earth
to kill this man.

Using my own tranquilizer gun
would be kinda stupid, wouldn't it?

Who said a killer
has to be smart?

Where were you during the race?

I was at the rail.
I'm always at the rail. He knows that.

- You got any witnesses?
- Do I have any witnesses?

Of course I got a witness.
I got hundreds of witnesses. But don't ask for their names.

I mean, when a race is going,
those railbirds don't even know if it's snowing.

Get off my back.

[Tracy]
"The unexpected victory of Anchors Ahoy,

"coupled with the murder
of the horse's trainer, Jack Bowen,

"prompted the racing commission
today to suspend...

apprentice jockey Tracy Macgill
pending the outcome of a hearing."

Well, that's not
exactly due process.

I don't understand it, AuntJess.

All the postrace tests
were negative.

They know Anchors Ahoy
was not drugged.

[Exhales]
The only thing-

- What?
- There was something strange about that race today.

In what way?

Anchors Ahoy is a speed horse.
He's a front-runner.

But right before the race,
Mr. Bowen came to me and told me...

to hold him back
in fifth or sixth position...

and then on the far turn,
make a run for it.

Perhaps Mr. Bowen retrained
the horse after his last race.

You don't change training
procedures for a horse like that.

It's in the blood. They either
come from behind or they don't.

I thought Mr. Bowen was crazy.

I couldn't believe it when
Anchors Ahoy actually won the race.

Look, I'm gonna tell you all I know,
which isn't much.

And which might not be
so good for your niece maybe.

But before the race, Mike Gann,
the vet, came in to check out Anchors Ahoy, which is very unusual.

And then Vince Shackman came around
to check out Anchors Ahoy,

which is even more unusual.

And when Gann saw Shackman,
he hightailed it and hid out in the next stall.

Shackman?
I don't know that name.

He's just about
the biggest bookie in the city with connections to Vegas...

and somebody you do not
want to mess around with.

Hey, Milford, don't you have
anything better to do...

- than go around spreading gossip?
- What are you, my father?

I thought Lt. Misko told you
to stay out of this case, Mrs. Fletcher.

That was before Tracy was suspended
on totally ridiculous charges.

Oh, I almost forgot.
Another weird thing...

is that Mr. Phillips here
cashed in about 500 bucks' worth of tickets on ol' Anchors Ahoy's nose.

That's a lie.
I got it straight from Pinky Stillman.

Window 8. He cashed
those tickets personally.

Isn't that rather unusual,
Mr. Phillips?

Maybe even unethical for
a security chief to bet on the races,

particularly one as tainted
as this one seems to have been?

Look, I caught a bookie
by the name of Vince Shackman...

trying to lay off
some very heavy action.

Now, obviously the fix was in,
so after I escorted him to the gate, I put down a bet.

I knew nothin'could be done
about it then, so why shouldn't I make a few bucks?

And, of course, you reported
all this to the officials right after the race.

No, I was distracted by somebody
discovering a dead body.

Besides, whether or not I put down a bet
is not gonna clear your niece.

Everyone knows when a race is fixed
that the jockey's right in the middle of it.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher, I would
advise you to get a good lawyer.

That kid's gonna need one.

So, Mrs. Fletcher, are you sure
I can't get you something to eat?

Oh, no, thank you.
I ate a huge breakfast.

Carlos, you certainly
look much better.

Well, I feel terrific.
Whatever it was, I got rid of it quick.

Oh, you're lucky.
Sometimes it can hang on for a whole week.

- Will you be riding soon?
- Maybe this afternoon. I'm waiting to hear.

So what can we do for you?

Well, if I'm going to help Tracy,

I have to find out what happened
yesterday afternoon.

And as you can guess,
I know absolutely nothing about horse racing.

So I need advice
from both of you.

Is it possible that that race
could have been fixed?

No way.

The test for drugs was negative.
And the tattoo matched.

Tattoo?
[Chuckles]

You're right.
You know nothin'about racin'.

Every racehorse must have
a number tattooed on his lip.

That way another horse, a- a-

- How do you call it?
- A ringer, darlin'.

Yes, a ringer cannot
be put in his place.

Oh, I see.

Carlos, do you have any idea
why Mr. Bowen picked Tracy...

over a more experienced jockey
to ride Anchors Ahoy?

I wouldn't know.

Look, if there's something
that I should be aware of,

please, uh, do tell me.

Well, Carlos-

Okay. I never get sick
a day in my life.

One hour before the race,
I get sick like a dog. Why?

Carlos thinks Tracy
might have slipped him a Mickey.

Oh! I can't believe that.

Riding Anchors Ahoy
was a step up.

It should have been
a very big break for her.

Oh, we're sorry. We think
the world ofTracy, really.

But you saw her!
I mean, you saw how-

how totally surprised she was when
Mr. Bowen chose her to ride that horse.

Yes. It certainly
looked that way.

Ma'am, there is
nothing to see.

Anchors Ahoy is just
another horse.

Yeah, but I wanna check
his I.D. Tattoo.

Oh, you've been taking
an education class?

Well, you're also
wasting your time.

But, uh, go ahead.

- What's goin' on?
- The lady is playing detective again.

You need some help, Mrs. "F"?

Well, I'm trying to get
a peek at his lip, Cookie. Uh-huh.

The thing is
you gotta be nice to him.

Now, this horse happens
to be crazy for carrots. Oh!

Yeah, boy.

Right.
Okay.

Do you think that we're idiots?

The first thing we checked
was that I.D. Number.

Mr. Phillips, do you think it's possible
that two horses could have the same I.D. Number?

Not in my track.
Go home, Mrs. Fletcher.

Leave the detective work
to the professionals.

I wish I could, Mr. Phillips,

but you and Lt. Misko
have so much to cover,

I thought I could be of some help.

Oh, by the way,
there is one little thing that's been bothering me.

Only one?
Glad to hear it.

You said you made your bet
on Anchors Ahoy after you dropped Mr. Shackman near the gate.

Well, it's the strangest thing.

You see, I paced out the distance
to the nearest betting window,

and really, Mr. Phillips, I don't see
how you could possibly have made it in time to get your bet down.

I mean, with
the long lines and all.

All right. I placed the bet
earlier in the day at the advance ticket window.

Then you did know that
the race was fixed before you collared Mr. Shackman.

That's what you say.

I say I had a lucky hunch.

Pretty smart, Mrs. "F."
You nailed him good.

Unfortunately,
not good enough, Cookie.

Uh, carrot, Mrs. "F"?

[Chomps]

Mr. "P."
It's good to see you.

How's everything in Vegas?

Vincenzo, I told you
to take care of Bowen.

I didn't tell you to ice the guy.

Sir, excuse me. It wasn't me.

But you know who it was.
I don't know who it was.

It could've been anybody.
I swear.

I mean, he wasn't
exactly Mr. Popular.

Vincenzo, I'm modestly
disappointed in you.

A man takes us for several
hundred thousand in two questionable races...

and you have no idea
how it was done.

And now you claim
that the ultimate retaliation...

was perpetrated by
some other party.

I'm sorry, sir.
I mean, l-

I have been asked by Mr. "W"-

Mr. "W"?

Personally to ask you to discover
the secret of the late Mr. Bowen's success...

in order to make certain...

that we are never victimized
in such a manner again.

I told him you would be honored
to do this favor for him.

Well, yes, sir.
The only thing is, l- You know, l-

Mr. "W" thanks you
for your diligent effort on his behalf.

Dad, I'm all right. Honest!

Dad, will y-
I'm telling-

Dad, will you please listen-

Let me talk to him.

Martin-

I'm just fine
and you should be too.

Now, don't you worry.

No, Tracy is perfectly all right.

We'll have this thing
unraveled in a day or so.

Oh, absolutely.

No, no, no.
Don't hop on the first plane.

No, leave this thing to us.

Good. Now don't you worry.

And I'll call you in a day or so.

Fine.

Just what we need,
an hysterical father.

Hello, Lieutenant.

I didn't know you
played the horses. Well, actually I don't.

I used to until I lost my car,
my house, my wife.

So what brings you out here?
Are you looking for a clue I may have overlooked?

Believe me, Lieutenant,
I am not competing with you.

But I do have a theory-
I'm sure you do.

Well, I'm about to check it out.
And you're welcome to join me.

Are you kidding?
I wouldn't miss it for the world.

You are gonna let me know
when you figure this out. There's no need to be sarcastic.

That, lady,
is a matter of opinion.

Of course Mr. Gallegos
was really sick.

We had to pump his stomach.

Was it possible that
he could've been drugged?

Possible? Honey, he had
a belly full of chloral hydrate.

If you ask me, somebody
didn't want that man to ride in that race.

[Phone Ringing]
Excuse me.

You knew about
the chloral hydrate.

This is my case, remember?

I suppose you reported that
to the racing commission?

Well, of course. Now you
tell me, Mrs. Fletcher-

What did Carlos Gallegos's
Mickey Finn have to do with Jack Bowen's death?

Suppose Carlos needed an alibi.

What better one than being
incapacitated in an infirmary.

You heard the nurse. She said
Gallegos was sick as a dog.

How long did it take
to run that race yesterday?

Just under two minutes. Why?

Then Carlos could've
sneaked out of that door,

run across the paddock,
killed Bowen...

and still made it back
before the race was over.

If that nurse had watched
the race on the TVscreen,

she never would've missed him.

What makes you think
I was watching the race?

Oh, I'm sorry, l-
I thought this was yours.

Look, lady, when I'm on duty,
I stay where I belong.

I do my betting early in the morning
at the advance window.

And maybe I didn't have my eyes
on the little fella every second,

but believe me, he was
too sick to go anywhere.

Taxi!

St. Francis Hotel, please.

[Gasps]
Okay, Paulie, you know where we're goin'.

Where are you taking me?
For an early lunch.

[Shackman]
That really was a boat race, Mrs. Fletcher.

A boat race?

Yeah. That's a race
that's been fixed.

How'd your niece do it?

Mr. Shackman, that is not only
very presumptuous but very rude.

From what I hear, you've been
making a pest of yourself.

You talk to Gallegos. You talk to Cookie.
You talk to the nurse in the infirmary.

You even stick your head
in the horse's mouth.

You seem to know more about it
than I do. Maybe more.

But I don't know enough.

See, I lost a lot of money
on that race.

Not as much as certain
friends in Las Vegas, who really took a bath...

and who hold me
personally responsible.

Well, I'm sorry, but there's
nothing that I can do.

Mrs. Fletcher, now to you
I may look like a bad guy,

but I'm a normal person
just like you are.

I own a house with a mortgage.
I drive a nice car.

My wife is a kvetch,
but I love her.

My eldest is going to
dental school.

My daughter is
heavily into ballet.

But this Bowen thing
is messin' everything up.

And it's messing up
my niece Tracy as well.

If I thought she iced the guy,

I'd give her a bunch of roses
and a good lawyer.

She didn't.
She must know something about the race.

Anything. Because if she doesn't,
in the next couple of days,

my wife may be heavily
into mourning and grieving.

What-
[Whispering, Indistinct]

You sure?

All right, okay.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher,
you're the one who may need a lawyer.

- Well, what do you mean?
- Well, now it's not just the racing commission.

But the lieutenant brought
your niece in for questioning.

And the subject of
the interrogation...

was murder.

They found a bottle of
chloral hydrate in my locker.

Somebody must've planted it
and then tipped off Phillips.

Somebody is certainly going
to an awful lot of trouble...

to implicate you
in fixing that race.

That's not all.
Lt. Misko is convinced...

that I am somehow involved
in Mr. Bowen's murder.

That's ridiculous!

Lt. Misko is in desperate
need of therapy.

AuntJess, I'm scared.
I mean, they could find more planted evidence.

If somebody's out to frame me-
Nobody's going to frame you, Tracy, I promise.

[Announcer]
And in the home stretch, it's Far Cry!

Uh, Lt. Misko.
[Groans]

What's the matter?
You lose something?

No. This time I won.
See, the last two years...

I've been keeping track of my bets
in this little black book.

Not with real money.
Because with real money, I'd be-what?

$350,000 in the hole.

But I figure... that's
how much I'm ahead. Good therapy.

Yeah. But every once in a while
a big winner comes along and spoils your fun.

I hate it when that happens.
So you have a big whiz-bang idea you wanna lay on me?

Well, how about some good
old-fashioned common sense?

May I remind you that Tracy
was astride a horse in full view of 40,000 people...

when Jack Bowen was murdered.
Nobody said she personally killed Bowen.

But she could be an accomplice.
Lieutenant, it's obvious. The chloral hydrate was planted.

Tracy had nothing to do
with fixing the race...

and nothing to do
with the murder. Obvious to you, maybe.

Me, I read it otherwise.

She saw her chance
at a big-stakes race.

She knew the fix was in and-
And?

Slipped the drug into
Carlos Gallegos's coffee...

because her crystal ball
told her thatJack Bowen...

might unexpectedly pick her
out of all the jockeys at the racetrack to ride Anchors Ahoy?

That is hogwash, Lieutenant.
Mrs. Fletcher, I am a hunch player.

Maybe all the little
details don't fit together, but I have a feeling about this case.

Now, your niece is all I have until
something better comes along.

So please stay out of my way.
Yeah, well, I'm sorry.

But Tracy is not gonna become
just another little lost bet in your little black book.

And since I'm wasting
my time here with you,

I suppose I had better go
to the source of the trouble.

Uh- Excuse me. I think you
missed a turn back there.

We've already been down there.

Well, Mr. Gann's farm has got
to be along here somewhere.

I think we're supposed to
turn at a large oak tree.

Lady, this valley
is full of large oak trees.

[Horn Blaring]

Where'd you get your license?
From the Braille Institute?

How'd you like to wear
that steering wheel for a bow tie?

Come on. Let's get outta here.

Mr. Gann?
Mr. Gann?

Ooh, I think I recognize you.

I bet you'd like
a carrot, wouldn't ya?

[Snorts]

[Breathing Heavily]

That one doesn't like carrots.

It's the only real difference between...

him and the real Anchors Ahoy.

It's too bad
you figured it out, lady.

That presents problems...

for both of us.

I think you should know that...

I didn't come here alone, Mr. Gann.

Well, you're alone now.
[Coughs]

I gave your cabdriver a very big tip
and sent him on his way.

Oh, dear.

It seems that Mr. Shackman
gave you quite a beating.

No, Guzmann. Guzmann does
his dirty work. It was Guzmann.

And did you tell him
the truth about the race?

You think I'd be standing
here now if I had?

I have to admit, Mr. Gann,

that was a very clever scheme.

You know,
switching horses that way.

I mean, how did you manage it?

The tattoo, I mean.

Yeah. Well,

Bowen had connections
in South America, you see.

And down there,
they don't tattoo or I.D.

Oh, yes.
Of course.

You merely had to pick up
a look-alike...

that was faster than
the American horse,

tattoo his lip with
the identical number...

and nobody would be
any the wiser.

You catch on good.

You catch on too good.

Nobody else knew about the race.
Just you and, uh, Mr. Bowen?

- And Carlos Gallegos.
- My goodness! That nice young man?

Yeah. Nice and crooked,
except he had no choice.

Jack brought him up
from Panama illegally.

He would either ride
or get shipped back home.

Yes, of course.
But this last race,

somebody made sure that
he didn't ride Anchors Ahoy.

Somebody who wanted
to see Mr. Bowen dead.

Not me, lady. Not me.

I swear to God.
I had no reason to killJack.

Oh, but you're prepared
to commit murder, right?

That is, uh, what is on your mind,
isn't it, Mr. Gann?

If there were any
other way, I'd take it,

but I'm not going to jail.

No way.

Now, Black Anvil here
doesn't like people much, especially strangers.

If I'm lucky,
the police will figure...

you just started snooping
in the wrong place, the wrong time.

Well, I'm not sure that
the police are that gullible.

Well, I guess
I'm betting that they are.

[Yells]

Hyah! Hyah!

[Yelling]

Drop it, Gann.

[Gasps]

[Chattering]

It's okay.

[Jessica]
Oh, surely you don't think that Gann murdered Mr. Bowen.

Right now he looks
pretty good to me.

Oh, no. Gann confessed
everything to me...

except Bowen's murder.

I mean, knowing that
he intended to kill me,

he hardly would have felt
the need to deny it.

Well, all right, if it wasn't Gann,
it had to be Gallegos.

I've been thinking about
his alibi. You're right.

He could've slipped out,
killed Bowen...

and been back before
the race was over.

Anyway, I'm gonna question him
about his part in fixing the race.

Uh, wanna come along?

[Chuckles]
No, thanks.

And that is
a grudging offer at best.

No, I wanna spend
some time with Tracy.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher,
do me a favor. If you get any more brilliant theories...

and you wanna go
snooping on your own, let me know first, please.

If I don't have advance warning,
next time I might not be able to help you.

You have my word.

[Mouths Words]

Lieutenant, you're right.
You are absolutely right. What?

On second thoughts,
I will go along with you.

And thank you very much
for inviting me.

With Gann's statement,
I already have you...

on conspiracy to fix a horse race
and illegal entry.

Okay, but I didn't kill anybody!

I was sick in the infirmary
when Jack got it.

You'rejust lookin'for
somebody to hang this on...

because you haven't
done your job.

We'll let a court decide
if I've done my job or not.

Carlos would never kill anybody!

I agree, Vicky. Carlos was
frightened and desperate.

That's why he agreed to
Mr. Bowen's extortion.

But both you and I know that
he couldn't have killed Jack Bowen.

And I also think that
we both know who did.

No, l- I don't know.

Don't you?
The race that Tracy won-

shortly before post time,

you went off to place a bet
on a horse called Frost Boy.

Do you still have that ticket?
Well, sure I got that ticket.

I got it right here
in my purse here.

I just, uh- I just haven't had
time to get my refund yet.

The horse was scratched
at the last minute. Ah, see.

Here it is. Right here.

I thought you'd be
holding on to this.

Come on.
What are you sayin'?

What's your point,
Mrs. Fletcher?

This ticket was
supposed to be Vicky's alibi. The trouble is, it's phony.

That's a genuine ticket!
Now, you look at it!

Oh, it's genuine all right, but you
didn't buy it just before the race. You didn't have time.

You left the box
to place your bet,

and less than a minute later,
the horse was scratched.

Now, given the crowds
and the long lines,

you couldn't have made it
to the window before the scratch.

And the machine never would have
issued a ticket on a scratched horse.

No, Vicky, I suspect
that you purchased that ticket a lot earlier in the day...

at one of the advanced
betting windows...

because you knew you were
going to killJack Bowen.

No.

?Querida?

No, this is not true.
Carlos, I'm sorry.

I had to do it.
To protect you.

[Sobbing]

Would you like to tell us
about it, Mrs. Gallegos?

When Carlos was
still riding in Panama,

he got into some trouble
and had to have some money.

So he agreed to bump
another horse during the race.

Only something went wrong
and the other horse went down,

and the other jockey
got badly hurt- he almost died.

That's when I metJack Bowen.

I changed my name. I come to
this country to ride for him.

And then wh-when he came up
with these horses,

these ringers,
what could I do?

He threatened to
send me back to Panama.

And you drugged Carlos
so that he would have a legitimate excuse not to ride.

I put chloral hydrate
in his coffee.

Only Bowen wouldn't believe
that Carlos was really sick.

And so he threatened to
get even by turning him over to Immigration.

Well, what could I do?
I couldn't let that happen.

And later you planted
the drug in Tracy's locker.

Mrs. Fletcher, I love Tracy,

but I had to protect my husband.

[Sobbing]
Carlos, I'm so sorry.

I can't believe it.
A couple of days ago, I was in jail for murder...

and today I have two mounts,
and I might even win my first race... legitimately.

And I am going
to be here to see it.

Though I'm not sure
I'm much of a good luck charm.

[Christine]
Oh, yoo-hoo!

Mrs. Fletcher, hello!
Oh, hello!

You know it must be fate
we've run into you.

And definitely an omen.

What's your astrological sign?

Uh, m-my sign? Uh, Pisces,
the last time I looked.

Oh, I knew it!
Fish Fry's running in the fourth race!

That's my mount.
I'm a Pisces too.

You're kidding.

You're Tracy Macgill.

[Christine]
Tracy Macgill ?

Get it? She's also a Pisces.
Riding Fish Fry.

That's amazing!
You know something, Christine?

I think you're finally
onto something!

- Come on.
- [Laughs]

You know there's one thing
I will never understand...

and that is the superstition
of horse players.

Absolutely silly, AuntJess.

Absolutely.

On the other hand,
I must- I must admit-

Oh, dear.
I'm getting hooked.

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