All language subtitles for MSW s03e14 Murder In A Minor Key.eng

What do you want?

[Woman]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

How dare you
interrupt my rehearsal! You know damn well why!

Get that thing away
from my face at once.

You think I killed him?
What for? I needed his music.

- [Crowd] We want justice.
- I'm asking you to stop this demonstration.

I'm not sure
I could do that, sir.

I've been kissing your pinky ring
for too many years now.

You owe me this!

What did I hear about shots?
Is somebody playing hardball?

Stoneham's widow.
She may have plunked the guy.

- [Crowd Cheering]
- [Door Closing]

Hello. I was just changing into
something more comfortable.

I've got a long night
of reading ahead of me. Galleys on my new book.

I don't know why they
send me these things,

because I am absolutely
the world's worst proofreader.

"Murder in a Minor Key."

[Sighs]
Well, at least they've got the title right.

Oh, it feels so good to sit down.

You know,

I was on my feet half the day
down at the power company.

Running from one office to the other,
trying to get my last bill sorted out.

Did you ever try to
argue with a computer? It is impossible.

It's like trying to talk sense to
Amos Tupper once he's made up his mind about something.

[Laughs]
These? Yeah, I know they're a little bit silly,

but my nephew Grady
gave them to me.

And you know something?
They're really very comfortable.

I mean, I only wear them
around the house where nobody can see them.

Well, let's get down to business.

You know I'm really very
pleased with this story, the way it's turned out.

It's a neat little puzzle
involving some young students...

at a Southern California university.

Michael Prentice is a bright,
budding music composer.

And I'm afraid we put him
in trouble right away.

His best friends are a very
soft-spoken, young law student...

from the Deep South, Chad Singer.

And a rather quirky, young lady
from New York named Jenny Coopersmith.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

It started out one spring
evening when, as usual, our trio of comrades...

arrived at a favorite campus hangout
for a couple ofhours of relaxation.

I am not a fascist,
and I'm not sellin' out.

Mm-hmm.
A body that willingly goes to work...

for Transacom's legal division
is a body for sale.

Second the motion.
Well, what am I supposed to do? Join the public defender's office?

Terrific.
Send me your tired,

your poor, your huddled masses...

your guilty.
That is cynical.

And sick.
But accurate.

??[Piano Up-tempo]
[Chattering]

Corporate law.
The heart pounds.

Meanwhile, every day
innocent people...

are getting victimized
by the system.

Yeah? Name two.
Listen, Mike, don't talk to me about sellin' out.

Last time I looked,
you were sendin' your songs to Nashville, for God's sakes.

Thank you. Thank you.
I thank you and so does Mr. Porter.

Now how about a change of pace?
Here's something brand-new. It's called "The World Belonged To Me."

A friend of mine in New York
sneaked me an advance copy.

I understand it's from an
upcoming Broadway musical.

I like it.
And I hope you will too.

?? [Piano]

I'm gonna need steady
employment ifJenn and I are gonna get married.

Oh, don't drag me into this.

I am real happy living in sin,
at least for awhile. ??[Singing]

Michael?

Michael,
what is it?

- That's-that's my music.
- What?

That's my music.
I wrote that!

Well, shoot, Mike.
It probably only sounds like- No, no, not sounds like!

Excuse me.

I'm sorry. I was playing
the best I know how.

Would you mind?
Please. It's important. Be my guest.

Here, check me out.

?? [Playing Same Song]

How am I doin'?
You haven't missed a note.

??[Continues]

?? [Stops]

Mike!

?? [Classical]

Professor Stoneham!

Mr. Prentice, may I assume
that your rude disruption of these proceedings...

is prompted by some
monumental occurrence.

I wanna know about this!

We'll discuss this in
my office in half an hour.

Meanwhile, will you have
the courtesy of allowing me to continue with my rehearsal?

Ladies and gentlemen,
let's try it again.

??[Resumes]

How dare you! How dare
you interrupt my rehearsal!

You know damn well why!
Would you get that thing away from my face at once.

Professor-
At once, do you hear me?

The name Alden Gilbert is
on this music, a piece I wrote.

Coincidence is not uncommon
in musical composition.

We're talking note for
note here, Professor.

Last spring, I handed you
four original themes as my term assignment.

This was one of them.
Surely you're not accusing me of something, Michael.

Those themes belong to me.
I want them back, now. Or what?

Listen to me,
my insolent young friend.

You continue with
this confrontation, and I will see to it...

that your future in
music is limited to organ grinding.

You don't frighten me,
Professor.

I'll see the chancellor-
And tell him what?

And show him what?

Irate college students who feel
they've been badly treated are a dime a dozen on every campus.

And anyway, it's your
word against mine.

Oh, I'll find a way,
Professor, somehow.

And if I can't find
anybody else to help me, I'll settle things myself.

Professor, I, uh-
That is-

Is there some
trouble here, sir?

No, Mr. Papazian.

I believe Mr. Prentice
was just leaving.

Damn!

What the devil is wrong
with you, Christine?

Are you being solicitous,
Tyler, or merely polite?

Surely we're not going to have
another of our discussions, not at this hour.

For the last six years,

all I have ever wanted
was to share your life.

Just to be a small part of it.

Oh, Lord.

And each year,
I have drifted farther away.

These-

These past few months
have been the worst.

Every weekend,
you've gone off to San Diego.

I had business to conduct.
Every weekend?

Why was I never able
to contact you there?

No matter how
often I called?

You phoned down there
asking for me?

I specifically told you
I was not to be disturbed.

And I am your wife.

I will not be treated like
one of your students.

I am not a fool.

I see. You suspect me of
some schoolboy infidelity.

[Laughs]
Really, Christine.

I should be flattered.
You're mocking me.

Strange, I thought it was
the other way around.

Another woman,
is that what you really think?

[Laughs]
Dear child.

There's nothing to
concern yourself with.

A preoccupation with business,
yes, I'll plead guilty to that, but...

I'm afraid anything else is
a figment of your overly suspicious imagination.

[Phone Ringing]
?? [Humming While Playing]

Hello? Oh.
Hi, Pauline, how are you?

Honey, you remember
when I busted in on you and what's-his-name-

Alden Gilbert? That composer
you were working with?

Yeah.
You want a big surprise?

Take a look at this
morning's paper, page 32.

Okay.

[Students Chanting]
We wantjustice. We wantjustice.

We wantjustice.
We wantjustice.

[Woman On Megaphone]
Okay, okay. Hold it down a second, huh, guys?

We all know why
we're here, right? Yeah!

Well, in case some of you don't,
let me give it to you by the numbers.

Last Friday, the semi-enlightened...

administrators of this institution
summarily dismissed...

one of the brightest, the best,
and the most dedicated professors-

Mr. Young,
is this your doing? Are you responsible for this?

Well, sir, could be my editorial
in the campus paper helped feed the fire a little.

Well, I suggest you
try to douse it.

The chancellor
isn't amused. No, sir, I'm sure he isn't.

And as vice-chancellor
of this university, I'm asking you to stop this demonstration.

I'm not sure I could do that, sir.
Even if I wanted to, which I don't.

Well, then I'll just have to
have Mr. Hargrove and his security force here break it up.

Oh, I'm sure Mr. Hargrove
realizes that that would not only be high-handed and illegal,

but dumb as well, sir.

I mean, who wants photos
of the campus police bullying a bunch of kids,

who are merely exercising their
constitutional right of free speech?

[Woman] I don't know about you,
but I think those fat cats at Transacom need a good dose offlea powder!

What do you say?

I think if a bunch of us
went over to the chancellor's office-

[Bell Tolling]

[Stoneham]
It-It's impossible to see you tonight.

I suggest breakfast
tomorrow morning, at your hotel.

No, you cannot come here.
I'm-I'm leaving shortly.

I'm merely waiting for
an important phone call.

Yes.

[Woman on Megaphone]
Well, he was gonna look into it the first chance he got!

[Crowd Cheering]

[Sighs]

[Crowd Chanting]
Fight Transacom. Fight Transacom.

Fight Transacom.

Fight Transacom.
Fight Transacom.

[Chanting Continues]

[Applause]

Operator, I'd like you
to try a number for me.

I've tried it several times,
and it may be out of order.

It's area code
619-555-4027.

[Crowd Chanting]

Professor Stoneham!

Mr. Papazian, are you in the
habit of always entering my office without knocking?

Mr. Papazian,
you have been drinking.

I have just been reading...

the galley proofs of your
new music dictionary.

Ah-ah, correction!
Our new music dictionary.

But my name seems to be
conspicuously absent from the title page.

- Harry, dear friend-
- You promised me!

Your contribution
has been duly noted by the powers that be,

and they will, I am sure,
strongly consider you as my replacement,

when I choose to leave-

Depending, of course,
upon my recommendation.

Don't you threaten me, Stoneham.

I've been kissing your pinky
ring for too many years now.

You owe me this!
[Slapping Desk]

[Crowd Cheering]

Danny!

Hi.
[Man Shouting On Megaphone]

It's a nice turnout.
Yeah. It's the power of the press.

You think it'll help?

I don't know.
I already have the vice-chancellor squirming.

We're recording this,
and we're gonna send him a tape tomorrow.

Oh-ho.
Where's Chad?

Home studying.
He's having trouble with his torts.

Oh. You know, I hear they
can cure that these days.

[Door Opens]

Hey! What are
you doin'in here?

All right, son.
Hands where I can see 'em.

And stand real still.

Poor Michael.
Fate seemed to be conspiring against him.

Not only were his musical
compositions missing from the files,

but Professor Stoneham
was in no condition to tell him where they'd gone.

Of course, that was
the least of his troubles.

As soon as the security officer,
Mr. Hargrove, entered the office,

he immediately added two
and two and came up with five.

The police were summoned,
and Michael was herded off to a jail cell at police headquarters.

So what are you
doin' in here?

You're not gonna tell me
you killed Stoneham?

[Sighs]
Me? I'm a card-carrying pacifist.

Okay, so just tell me
everything that happened.

Wh-Why? Are you
gonna represent me? And get you hung?

No way.

But it's like my
UncleJack always said,

findin' a fox in the henhouse
don't necessarily mean nothin',

unless, of course, he's pickin'
feathers out of his teeth.

The security guy, Hargrove,
comes in, catches Mike goin' through the files.

Then he spots Stoneham
sprawled out on the floor dead as a mackerel...

with a tuning fork
stuck in his chest. The same one that...

That Harry Papazian saw
him wavin' at Stoneham the night before.

Right.

You know, I'm just a struggling
would-be social worker,

but it seems to me
Harry Papazian must have killed him.

Papazian claims Stoneham
was alive when he left,

and a polygraph passed
him with flags flying.

Nice. How about a lie
detector for Mike too?

Oh, he got one.
The results were inconclusive.

He flunked?
That's the way the cops see it.

Okay. So why did
Mike break in?

He couldn't find any
copies of his music.

To prove it was his,
he needed the originals.

And Stoneham wasn't
about to give 'em up, so he figured he had to take it.

Mike didn't kill anyone.
And all we have to do is prove it.

Is that the royal we,
or am I included in this mess?

It was my bright theory
the system always worked, remember?

So who says you're
always so bright?

Where do we start?

Me, campus.
You, Broadway.

All right.

Here.
No, no, no.

Keep it, keep it, keep it.

[Danny]
Are you kidding? You talked to Prentice? In jail?

What'd he say?
He said he didn't do it.

Hold on, I gotta
get a tape running. Danny, l-

I didn't come here to
give you an interview. I need to look at your files.

And I've got a paper
to get out with the story of the year.

And you, old pal,
are my exclusive. No way. No. No.

- Then no way do you see my files.
- Oh, God.

- Files first.
- Wrong. I've got a deadline. Come on.

Danny, you are gonna make
a great newspaperman.

- It's in your blood. Ice cold.
- Thanks.

Obviously, we must not let
Dr. Stoneham's death be turned into a media circus.

We've had enough trouble
on this campus recently.

I'm just helpin'
out a friend, sir.

I guess I'm the closest
thing he's got to family.

Very admirable,
but have you considered that...

your friend Mr. Prentice
may be guilty as sin. No, sir.

Shoot, there were lots
of people on this campus that hated Dr. Stoneham.

Enough to commit murder?
Well, I guess one motive's as good as another.

I just remembered.
Didn't you use to be real close with Mrs. Stoneham?

Given the context,
I think I resent that question,

Mr. Singer.
No, no, no offense intended, sir.

L-I just happened to be going
through some back issues of the campus newspaper.

I couldn't help but notice
that you and she were somethin' of an item...

before Stoneham popped
up here six years ago.

Christine and I were
friends, nothing more.

After their marriage,
I did not harbor either of them any ill will.

As a matter of fact,
I went out of my way to make Tyler Stoneham feel welcome.

That-That sure was
neighborly of you, sir.

The music building, Mr. Singer.
Professor Papazian's expecting you.

I trust you will not feel the
need to query me again.

Now this is our storage room,
where we keep all our instruments, sheet music.

How about
original compositions?

Ah, no. Dr. Stoneham insisted
on keeping all of that under lock and key in his private office.

[Phone Ringing]
Ah, excuse me.

Yes?

No.

[Laughs]
No, this is not Dr. Stoneham.

No. Ah, I suggest you pick up
a copy of this morning's paper.

The front page.
That will explain everything.

Mm-hmm.
Idiot.

Ah, Dr. Stoneham's
phone rings in here as well as in his office.

He used to spend a lot of time
in here noodling on that piano.

Well, I guess
that's about it.

You've seen everything
there is to see.

Ah, with the exception
of Dr. Stoneham's office,

which you may have
noticed the police have sealed off.

So, Chancellor Simon tells me
that you're a law student.

Is this some sort of
classroom exercise?

No, sir. I'm just a good
friend of Mike's, that's all. Ah.

Just tryin' to be
his eyes and ears.

I guess all this has put quite
a burden on you, Mr. Papazian.

I mean, as Stoneham's
assistant, I expect you'll be takin' over for him now.

Ah, yes, yes. L-I wish
the circumstances had been different,

but as they say,
one must not only endure, one must overcome.

I wish it had been anyone
but Michael Prentice. He's a fine young man.

Well, you know, sir,
Mike says he didn't do it.

Yes, so I understand.

I'm-I'm afraid, Mr. Singer,
that I was forced in all candor,

to tell the police of the
heated argument I witnessed the night before Tyler died.

Well, now that's real funny.

Mike told me all about
the fight Stoneham had with you...

the night he did die.

Fight? No.
It was a minor argument, that's all.

Well, thanks for
the tour, Professor.

Sure was helpful.

[Jenny]
Rhoda, hey, thanks. No, this is great, really.

Yeah.
You're kidding! When?

She didn't.

Well, she's crazy.
You know something?

LfJerome wants to live
in Jersey, so big deal.

I mean, Jersey's not all
Hoboken, you know.

L-L-Listen, Rhoda,
I gotta go. Yeah.

Thanks again, and tell
Shelly she's a doll.

Is this lady a detective or what?

- You got somethin'?
- From my girlfriend Rhoda,

who was best friends
at CCNYwith a certain Sheila Abramowitz,

who happens to
be the sister of Deirdre Abramowitz,

who just happens to work
for the Broadway producer-

Who just happens to be puttin'
on a musical with words and music by Alden Gilbert.

Ooh. Sharp,
Chad, sharp.

Show's named Blue Lights.
The guy's name is Max Hellinger.

He used to be
Gilbert's agent. Darlin', you are a jewel.

You got a number
on this Hellinger?

Um, yeah,
but save your nickel.

Hellinger's been out of town
for three days, not expected back until Monday.

Whereabouts
unknown.

Hellinger's secretary,
she have a number on file for Alden Gilbert?

Nope. Gilbert always called Hellinger,
never the other way around.

But Gilbert's
definitely a local.

Contracts, checks,
everything went to a P.O. Box in Westwood.

Weird, huh?
Maybe not.

Not if you're tryin'
to lead a double life.

Come again?
Don't you get it, Jenn? Alden Gilbert?

Professor Tyler Stoneham?
One and the same.

Thing is, who knew it
and more importantly, who stood to gain by it?

Hello.
Yes?

Mrs. Stoneham? I'm Chad Singer.
Y-You'll forgive the intrusion, ma'am.

L-I'm a good friend
of Michael Prentice.

Yes. Come in.

Please.
Thank you.

Tyler and Michael
used to work together here quite often.

His best student
in years, he said.

Well, at-at least they used
to work together here.

Lately,
Tyler was away so much,

I barely saw Michael.
Away where?

San Diego.
School business.

And the night-

the night he died, ma'am-

did you see your husband,
talk to him?

I called his office.

He told me he was waiting
for Harry Papazian...

to drop off the galley
proofs of his new book,

and then he'd be right home.

I told him we could have
a late supper together.

- About what time was this?
- Um...

I was watching television,

some comedy show
that started at 9:30.

[Sighs]
I watch a lot of television.

It must have been about half
over when I made the call at the commercial break.

So I suppose that would
put it at about 9:45.

That was the last time
I ever heard his voice.

Later, when the policeman
came to the door, l-

I thought it was Tyler,
that he'd forgotten his key.

Yes, ma'am.

[Sobs]

- Are you married, Mr. Singer?
- No, I'm not, but I hope to be.

As soon as I pass the bar.

It's not a step
to be taken lightly.

These days,

people don't seem
to care very much about commitment.

Ah, ma'am,

did your husband ever
mention the name Alden Gilbert to you?

No, I don't believe so.

- Max Hellinger?
- No.

Well, I thank you
very much, ma'am.

You've been more
than hospitable.

And not very much help,
I'm afraid.

Wow, your husband must
have been a very wealthy man.

I mean,
from a wealthy family.

I don't know of too many
professors who live like this.

Tyler never confided in me
about finances.

I suppose that's something
I'll have to learn.

Yes, ma'am.
Bye.

A strange visit.

- I wonder what he wanted.
- I'm not sure.

You know, for a minute
I got the feeling he thought I'd killed Tyler.

So Augustine Simon claims
he and Christine Stoneham were just friends.

Well, then why was he
hiding in the other room,

when Chad questioned the
bereaved widow about the identity of Alden Gilbert?

If you ask me,
it was hanky-panky of the highest order.

Meanwhile, back on campus,

the assistant music chairman,
Harry Papazian, was receiving some very good news.

Yes, sir, thank you.

And, uh, please convey my thanks
to the board for this appointment.

I can assure you that
Professor Stoneham's high standards shall be continued in every way.

Thank you.

[Clunking]

I beg your pardon.
May I help you?

You never know, pal.
I'm looking for something that belongs to me.

[Laughs]
Well, I seriously doubt that you'll find it in here, Mr., ah-

Max Hellinger. Tyler Stoneham
and I had a business relationship.

These are his files, aren't they?

School files.
It's the same thing.

He owed me a couple
of songs he'd composed. I need them now.

Tyler a composer?
That's ridiculous.

The man didn't have
an original bone in his body.

You know not whereof
you speak, pal. By the way, who the hell are you?

Harry Papazian, assistant-
Ah, former assistant head to the department.

You are now running the store?
Good. I have a proposition for you.

Ah, excuse me, ah,
Mr. Hellinger?

Two pieces of music,
both ballads. Look for the name of Alden Gilbert as the composer.

You find 'em for me,
it's worth five big ones. What?

What, you have a hearing problem?
$5000 for two songs,

in 48 hours in my hands,
okay?

Well, if the songs exist,
I'll certainly do my best to locate them for you.

You bet you will, baby.
[Chuckling]

You had no right
to print that story.

We're a newspaper, Mr. Parnell.
Check the sign on the door.

I am trying to save Prentice
from the gas chamber, and you're trying to get an "A" in journalism?

Hey, Chad.
Come here a sec.

Fella here's got a problem
with your interview.

You're Singer?
That's me.

I've been looking for you.
I'm-I'm Ray Parnell, public defender's office.

And if you don't want to
screw up your friend's life permanently,

I suggest you learn to
keep your mouth shut.

Sir, I'm just trying to help.
You listen to me.

Your friend has one chance
of getting free, and that's temporary insanity.

What do you-
Have you talked to him? He didn't do it.

So he tells me.
And I sure would like to believe him.

But what I believe
and what you believe, that doesn't count.

What counts is what
I can sell to a jury.

??[Michael's Song]

Hi.

I'm sorry I got hung up.
I brought in a pizza.

You eat. I popped a button
on my jeans this morning.

I'm fasting till Yom Kippur.

Don't stop.
I like that.

Yeah?
Yeah, it really grabs me.

?? [Michael's Song]

Makes me kinda wonder
who wrote the lyrics.

[Laughs]
It sure wasn't Tyler Stoneham.

Well, I guess it was Mike.
Ha! Are you kidding?

I took American Lit with Mike.
He could barely understand Edgar Guest.

Hot dang! Lyrics!

Stoneham not only ripped off
the melody, but he got somebody to put words to it.

- But who?
- Don't look at me. AfterJune and moon, I'm lost.

Darlin', I got a job for you.
Uh-oh.

The last few months,
Stoneham's been spendin' a lot of time south of the city.

Maybe San Diego.

619 area code.
Are you still friendly with that, ah,

what's-her-name in
the business office? Marsha? Sure, but-

Tomorrow morning, first thing.
I want you to get Marsha to check all the outgoing toll calls on Stoneham's line.

Everything with a 619 prefix.
Maybe we can put a phone number to a name and address.

Oh, come on, Chad.
Well, you wanna help, don't you?

Not for me, hon.
For Mike.

Persuade me, cowboy.

The things I put up with
for my friends.

Oh.

Who's there?

Who are you?
What do you want?

[Christine Screams]

[Chad]
Uh-huh. I got that.

She heard this guy stumblin'
around when?

4:00 in the morning?
Is she sure it was a man?

Listen, Danny, the shots,
did she hit the guy?

All right. Look, I'll call you
later at the newspaper office. Anything you learn I want it.

I'll talk to you later,
good buddy.

Do you know
what time it is?

Yes, ma'am. Time for you
to hustle your bustle over to your friend Marsha's.

One of Danny Young's newspaper
reporters was monitoring police calls early this morning,

some kind of a C.B. Freak.

Somebody broke into the
Stoneham house last night, probably lookin' for Mike's music.

Wh-What did I hear about shots?
Is somebody playing hardball?

Stoneham's widow.
She may have plunked the guy.

They found blood outside.
Oh, terrific!

She didn't shoot at me, hon.
Come on, chop, chop. I need that 619 number.

[Chad]
Ah, excuse me, Professor Papazian?

May I help you, Mr. Singer?
Professor, you got a minute?

Actually, I'm very busy
this morning. Well, this won't take long.

I just wanted to set things
straight about that fight you had with Dr. Stoneham.

It was a discussion,
Mr. Singer, not a fight.

Well, that's not
the way Michael tells it.

Yes, well, if I were in jail
facing a murder charge,

I, too, would be spreading
suspicion in as many directions as I could.

Well, I apologize,
Professor.

I guess it's just a case of friendship
gettin'in the way of my betterjudgment. Mmm.

Looks like mice got at this seal.

- What?
- This seal.

The door to Dr. Stoneham's office.
Seems to be peelin' off.

[Sighs]
I'm afraid, Mr. Singer,

that my patience with your
amateur sleuthing is exhausted.

As is I'm sure,
everyone else's.

Now will you please leave,
or will I be forced to call security.

Oh, gosh, sir.
I don't mean to make a pest of myself.

I really do apologize
for any misunderstanding.

Yes, well, that's quite
all right, Mr. Singer. [Groans]

Oh, I'm sorry.
Is there something wrong with your arm, Professor?

No, it's all right.
You know,

I couldn't help but notice
the way you were holdin' that valise out there, and...

and the way you
opened the door.

I thought you might
be hurt or somethin'.

Maybe you oughta,
have a doctor look at it. No, no, it's all right.

Well, ah, let me give
you a hand with that.

You know, Professor,

Mrs. Stoneham
shot an intruder in her house last night.

Yep, she surely did.

You know,
I'll just bet...

it was somebody searchin'
for some sheet music.

What do you think?

Yes.

I think you're probably right.

I was looking for some songs
that Tyler was supposed to have written.

A man named Max Hellinger,
a Broadway producer,

offered me a great deal of
money if I could deliver them.

No questions asked,
of course.

They weren't-
No. No, I looked everywhere.

I suspect he stashed them
in a safe deposit box.

This man, Hellinger,
do you know where I can find him?

Well, I imagine he's gone
to see Michael Prentice.

When he called this morning
and I told him I couldn't help him,

he said his only other
possibility was in jail.

Mr. Hellinger?
Yeah, I'm Max Hellinger.

Who are you?
I'm a good friend of Michael Prentice.

I was wondering if
I might talk to you...

about the unpublished
works of Alden Gilbert.

Thank you, Jim.

It's a nice place. It'll be a
parking lot in one month. Well, things pick up after 6:00.

They'd better.
Okay, let's talk music.

How about first if we talk
about Tyler Stoneham?

Excuse me,
Alden Gilbert.

I didn't come here to
shoot the bull with you, pal.

Since the cops still wouldn't
let me talk to Prentice, you'll have to do.

Do you have the songs
or don't you? Tyler Stoneham was killed...

just before 10:00 p.m.
Two nights ago.

Two nights ago,
I was in New York City. Get back to the music.

Two nights ago, your plane
landed at L.A.X. At 6:05.

A friend of a friend
checked the passenger manifests.

You think I killed him?
What for? I needed his music.

Maybe he was holdin' out on you.
Maybe he was hittin' you up for more money.

Maybe. Maybe you need
something stronger to drink than that beer you're nursing.

Look, I knew Tyler for ten years.
He used to feed me stuff.

Dreck, mostly. Then he comes
along with Blue Lights.

First-class material.
Primo.

But even I could figure out
he didn't become another Sondheim overnight.

Okay, so you got in at 6:00.
And then what? You went to see Stoneham at the school?

Wrong, sonny.
I called him. What time?

Around half past 9:00,
at his office.

He said he was gonna
leave as soon as he got some phone call.

We made a breakfast date.
I showed up. He didn't. Then I caught the news.

Let's get back to
those two songs. I haven't got 'em.

Wait a minute, you said-
And as far as I know, neither does anybody else.

The only one that can deliver
those songs to you, Mr. Hellinger, is Michael Prentice.

If you think of anything that'll help get
him out from under this investigation, I suggest you talk to the police.

Otherwise, I'm afraid your show's
gonna be openin' up on Broadway minus a couple of ballads.

Okay, so where's my medal?

You said you wanted a lyricist.

You got a lyricist.
Say hi to Reagan Miller.

Writing partner of the late
and not-so-great Alden Gilbert.

Hi.

When Miss Coopersmith
phoned me, asking about Alden Gilbert, I, ah...

I didn't quite know
what to say.

Sounded to me like she
dropped the phone. That's when I knew I hit the exacta.

Quite honestly, I really didn't
wanna talk about Alden, or Dr. Stoneham...

or whatever his
real name was.

The man lied to me,
he deceived me.

Cheated you?

Yes, I suppose you
could say that too.

Look, I didn't care
about the money,

the only thing that I wanted
was recognition for my work, but he took credit for everything.

The music, the words.
I mean, they were my words.

I just can't believe all
this is happening.

[Sighs]
Okay, you say you went to the college the night he was killed.

Yeah, but I didn't kill him.
I mean-

The fact is,
I never even saw the man.

I couldn't find his office,
and all of a sudden there were these policemen...

coming out from all
different directions.

I think it was shortly
after 10:00. I just left.

That's terrific.
Everyone but the pope is at the college that night,

and Michael's the one they
find standin' over the body.

Forgive me, I'm-I'm
O.D. 'ing on frustration here.

Ah, if you'll excuse me,
I have to get back home.

There's something that I wrote
for television and I forgot to set my tape machine.

No kidding.
You wrote for TV?

Yeah. Just a jingle for a
real estate commercial. Not Broadway, but it pays the rent.

Um, look, I think it
starts at quarter of 7:00.

If I rush,
I can just make it.

Well, thank you for coming.

And if and
when we ever get Michael out of jail,

we'll have to put the
two of you together.

You'd make
a great combo. I'll look forward to it.

Good night, Chad.

Oh, he gets like that.

Okay.

What's with the face?

So, do I get first prize
or what?

Darlin', you're not
gonna believe this,

but I think I just
figured out which fox got in the henhouse.

Well, how about you?
Have you figured out who killed the good doctor?

Well, you can't be
hurting for suspects.

Heaven knows there were
plenty of people with motive... and opportunity.

But if you've been paying attention,

there's one particular clue that
should pinpoint the guilty party.

See if you can come up with
the same answer that Chad did.

This had better be good,
Mr. Singer.

I didn't let you organize
this little charade to be made a fool of.

No, I wouldn't do that, sir.
You can count on it.

You know the drill.
I mean, lots of noise.

Hey, you're gonna get all
the d.b.'s you can handle.

All right, Reagan,
everybody. Yeah.

I want you to do and
say whatever you did the other night.

I didn't do or say anything.
Then do it again.

[Chanting On Tape]
[Chiming]

Ah, Singer,
this is Lt. Perkins. How are-

Just so's you understand, son,
I'm not real keen on parlor tricks.

Only reason I'm here
is 'cause the school asked us to cooperate.

Well, I appreciate
that, sir. How ya doin'?

Holding up.
All right.

Um, I don't know what
I'm doing here. I was nowhere near this place.

Well, I know-
Nor was I, Mr. Singer.

I know. I need you both
to help re-create what happened.

Look, one thing you'd better
understand. I'm not letting the suspect out of my sight.

Right. I want you hangin'
on him like wallpaper.

Where he goes,
you go. Come on.

Mr. Papazian, glad
you could make it.

Yes, Mr. Singer.
As I told you, I am delighted to cooperate.

All right. Mr. Hellinger,

Mrs. Stoneham,
if you'djust stand here by the telephone.

Mr. Parnell, you'll be
playing Mr. Stoneham, so if you'll just come with me.

Step into the office.
And you know the instructions?

I know what
I'm supposed to do.

There we go.
All right, Mr. Hellinger,

if you will place a call to
the office like you did the night of the murder,

Mr. Parnell
will answer it. 555-8974.

Start the watch?
Go.

Mike!

I heard him talking
on the phone,

and I heard him say he'd be leaving soon-
that's when I ducked into the instrument storage room.

Go.

You too,
Lieutenant.

Now the light went out,
and went on again almost immediately.

Okay, Mr. Hellinger,
you can hang up the phone.

Mr. Parnell, pick up the receiver
and pretend to be dialing out!

All right, Mike,
now what?

After about thirty seconds
or so, the light went on again.

All right, that was
Stoneham dialing Reagan, but she wasn't home.

Ah, Chad,
the light went on again a second time, but shorter.

Okay.
Get back inside.

Mr. Parnell, I want you
to hang up the phone,

pick it up again
and hold it.

All right, Mike. What next?
After the light went out for the third time,

I started to leave.

I heard a man's
footsteps approaching.

I ducked back inside;
then I looked out.

I saw Mr. Papazian go down
the hall to Stoneham's office and walk in.

Mr. Parnell, you can
hang up the phone! Mr. Papazian.

Okay, now I want the
two of you to argue, loud.

About what?

Anything. The price
of goat's cheese. The Dodgers.

It doesn't make any difference,
but you're mad as hell at each other.

This is ridiculous.

Of course it is,
but if he wants an argument, let's give it to him.

I haven't got
anything to hide! You think I do?

[Loud Voices On Tape]

I don't know anything
about you, Parnell. Mike!

And I don't care to!
Can you hear all that?

Ah, bits and pieces, like
the night of the murder. It's pretty noisy in here.

Mr. Singer's
theatricality is beginning to border on the ludicrous!

[Papazian]
On that, we totally agree!

Gentlemen,

that was just fine.

Mr. Papazian, you may
leave the room now.

This is the most
ridiculous thing I've-

How we doin'?

It's time.
Let's go.

Mrs. Stoneham,
it's quarter to the hour.

If you'll just place that
call to your husband, like you did that night.

[Ringing]

Hey, Chad, that phone-
It never rang the other night.

[Ringing Continues]

That's right, ma'am.
It never rang.

The call you said you made to your husband
during the commercial break? It never happened.

But-
There are no buts, ma'am.

Because you said you talked to
your husband, which you did not.

A fact I believe will be validated
by your next month's phone bill.

It's a toll call.

The only thing
I don't know is...

was Mr. Simon
in on it with you?

No! No, he wasn't!

Tyler was my problem.

Poor Christine.
It was only a little slip,

but those are the
ones that get you.

She's come to the office
to surprise her husband.

They fought and long-suffering
Christine finally went over the edge.

Michael was cleared, of course.

And when last seen,

he and Reagan Miller were boarding
a plane with Max Hellinger,

headed for the Great White Way.

As for Chad and Jenny, you know,

I've been noodling with
this idea for a sequel,

in which they travel to Mississippi,
so that she can meet the folks.

On the way, they run into
this defrocked priest...

and a professional wrestler
who just happen to be-

Oops,
I'm getting ahead of myself.

Maybe we just better
wait for the sequel.

Thanks for dropping by
and good night.

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