All language subtitles for MSW s04e08 Stea Me a Story.eng

Believe me, I'm going to deal
with Sid Sharkey in the strongest possible terms.

[Woman]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Shortly before the explosion,
a woman's footsteps were heard in the vicinity of his office.

She's got 87 lines. Eighty-seven.
Almost as much as me.

If you want that narcissistic egomaniac
on the set, you're gonna have to get him yourself.

You're the director!
You handle this!

I'm just lucky I wasn't
in the same room with him when the bomb went off.

- I told you to mind
your own business. - Oh, dear Lord.

Well, now, Anne, lookee here.

If that don't beat all.
See that scar?

Well, good heavens, Doctor.
That looks like an old knife wound.

It sure does. I guess we know
what that means.

I'm sorry, Doctor.
You're way ahead of me, as usual.

Unless I missed my guess,
Dalton Ramsey was severely wounded-

Oh, I'd say no more
than two months ago.

Which means he was the one
who hid in the alley...

waiting for Agatha Baxendale's
chauffeur to respond to the blackmail note...

that had been sent
to Agatha's brother-in-law Sidney...

the night before Naomi Randall's
elopement with-

Ran off with who?
[Man] Siegfried Perlmutter.

Siegfried? Perlmutter? Naomi?

Who comes up
with these names anyway? All right. Cut!

[Buzzer Buzzes]
See, that's what we're selling here.

Gary's down-home,
easygoing style.

[Man Chattering]
Brenda's the big-city counterpart-

urban, tough, independent.

That gets us access to the younger
female audience.

Well, now, Anne-
[Continues, Indistinct] Now, when I say "tough,"

I mean strong but not enough
to turn off our male appeal.

Gary's our star,
so let him be the, uh,

engine that drives the story.

Think of Brenda as, uh,

the fireman stoking the engine.
Unless I missed my guess-

So, every week Dr. Steve Valiant
gets involved with a major crime. Right.

And Dr. Valiant solves the case
with foxy down-home common sense- Mm-hmm.

Um, assisted by his street-smart
big-city nurse.

Uh, keep the contrast sharp.

And in the end, Dr. Valiant
beats up the bad guys...

and hands them over
to the police.

Uh, more or less.

Um-
[Clears Throat] Mr. Stone,

I don't want you to think that
I'm ungrateful for this opportunity,

but I'm not sure that I could
think of a story line that you would like.

Don't worry, honey.
Have I got a great plot for you.

Batted it out last night.

[Light Thud]
This is very good.

You bet it is.

Um, the only thing is-

Well, this business with
the poison and the dead brother who faked his death,

and then the switch at the end
with the fire at the mortuary-

Isn't that the same
as J.B. Fletcher's new book?

Similar.
I read it last week.

Well, actually, I didn't read it.

Somebody gave me
a three-paragraph synopsis. I don't know.

[Sighs]
I don't think I could just steal her plotline.

Honey,

what do you think
television's all about?

We haven't got time to-
to think up new plots.

Yeah, but-

Look, Miss Yamada, I'm a busy guy.

Now, the network says,
"Use a female writer."

Well, okay. I'm using one.
The bucks are good.

You get your foot in the door.
Now, you want this gig or don't you?

Mrs. Fletcher, the newspaper said
you were leaving town today.

[Chuckles]
My publisher is an absolute tyrant.

Having a chance to meet
my readers is such a pleasure.

"To Lydia, a devoted reader.
Love, Jessica Fletcher."

Oh, I thank you!
[Chuckles]

Wait till I show the girls.

Good evening.
Good evening, Mrs. Fletcher. L- I don't want to buy a book.

L- I mean, I bought one
last week.

But, um-
Yes?

Is there somewhere
we could talk privately?

It's very important.

I mean, this is a tremendous
break for me, Mrs. Fletcher.

I can earn more from this
one script than I've made in the past two years.

But-
[Sighs] Stealing your story?

No way.

Anyway, l- I just wanted
to let you know what was happening.

And I appreciate
your telling me, Gayle.

This Mr. Stone sounds like
a very dishonest person.

- He's a television producer.
- Oh, now.

You're much too young
to be that cynical.

Well, I'm afraid if I don't do this,
he'll find someone who will.

If I were you,
I would get a lawyer.

Well, why don't we cross that bridge
when we come to it? Cookie?

Oh. Thank you.

Meanwhile-
Yes?

Well, what about you and me
coming up with a new story?

Something that this gentlemen
may like even better.

Oh, no. No, no. L- I couldn't
impose on you like that. Why not?

I think it would be a lot of fun.

And if your Mr. Stone
likes this scenario better,

well, then you can tell him
it's instead of stealing the plot of my book.

You're out on a ledge, Rocco.

Come to grips with your iniquity
while you still have a chance.

[Scoffs]
How in the name of sweet St. Peter...

am I supposed to say this garbage?
Ask the director, Gary.

He seems to have all the answers.

Mr. Puzo thinks of us
as talking furniture.

Well, I guess we'll have to fix it
ourselves like we always do.

Brenda, you fix this,
and I'm putting you up for an Emmy. [Shouting, Indistinct]

Gary, honey-
Excuse me.

Leo just called. He says
he has to talk to you right away.

Leo, huh?
Sounds expensive.

Leo's phone calls usually are.

Wait'll you see what our
road companyJohn Huston's gonna do with our next scene,

aside from the obvious.

Not going well?
About the same as usual.

[Gary]
They even ran out of coffee. Bert?

Problem, Bren?
Um, Edie, sweetheart? Move to your left a little.

Perhaps you could tell me
what the dramatic values are in this scene we're about to shoot.

It's about two pages long,
and we have to have it in the can by 4:00,

which means we hit our marks
and say our lines.

Charlie, what are you waiting for,
a solar eclipse? Let's get the show on the road.

Leo, I'm not interested...

in putting any more money
into them Mexican hamburger joints.

Look, Leo, I'm getting real tired
of pouring my paychecks down a rathole.

[Chuckles]
Well- Well, that's just fine, old buddy,

but I sure don't feel rich!

I had more money in my jeans
when I was hauling furniture back in Richmond.

Look, Leo, I don't want
to talk about it now.

Call me later.
Later, Leo!

Take it easy, hon.

Here's your tea.
Bloodsucker! [Chuckles]

Ten percent to Leo,
10% to my agent-

never mind
my personal manager,

my lawyer, my publicist.

[Chuckles]
And all out of a lousy 50,000 an episode.

I know, sweetheart.
It gets me too.

You're worth twice that.

Where would this show be
without me?

[Scoffs]
It sure ain't the scripts.

And it sure ain't
Miss Brass Bottom. [Chuckles]

Diane, did you see the new script?
They're beefin ' up her part.

She's got 87 lines. Eighty-seven!
Almost as much as me.

Maybe something's goin' on.

Maybe they're trying
to push me out.

Executive Producer,
12:00 high.

Hey, Sid, welcome.

I just came from dailies.
Do you call that stuff film?

Where were you yesterday?
Your head, I mean. Oh, come on, Sid-

No, you come on.
You're already a day behind schedule. Do you know what that is in dollars?

Maybe if I was seeing
Citizen Kane up on the screen- Will you give me a break?

I got a blind cameraman,
the gaffer's loaded by 10:00...

and kindly Dr. Steven Valiant can't
remember two sentences in a row!

Always got an excuse,
huh, baby?

Hey listen. You think you can do
any better? It's all yours.

But I gotta tell you,
Patterson's bad news.

I know he's the show, Sid,
but you gotta do something.

No, you gotta do something.

Hey, I gotta call Kate Hollander
over at the network. I got a new series cooking.

Undercover Urchins.

Five little street kids-
black, white, yellow. You know, assorted colors.

But the neat thing is- get this-
they work for the cops.

Solving crimes.
Sounds great.

Yeah, it's got good topspin.
If it goes, I'm gonna use you on it-

if you get Gary Patterson
straightened out.

Okay? Huh? Okay?

Excuse me.
Mr. Sharkey.

Hey, sweetheart. How's it goin'?

Lousy, thanks.
I want to talk to you about this new script.

Yeah, what about it?
Who writes this crap anyway?

And then she starts
down the stairs into the dark, damp basement.

The dark figure in the shadow
steps forward,

but we only see his feet.

Yeah, yeah. It's- It's-
It's nice. It's very nice.

- Listen, Miss Yamada-
- Very nice?

Well, it's even pretty good.

But it's not our kind of story.

Well, I'm sorry.
Honey, it's too original.

Our audience doesn't wanna think
about what's going on.

They tune in Danger Doctor
to see something, uh, familiar.

Hey, if it were up to me,
I could maybe give it a shot.

Miss Fletcher was afraid
this was going to happen.

- Fletcher?
What's she got to do with this? - Well-

Well, this new story,
it's- it's really her idea.

Well, you see, I went to see her-

You saw J.B. Fletcher?
What for?

Well, to tell her.
To- To tell her what,

that we're ripping off
one of her stories?

Oh. Beautiful.
I mean, I can see that you've got a real future in this business.

Listen. We'll be talking
to your agent.

Oh- L-Look,
I'm sorry, Mr. Stone, but- but in good conscience, l-

Yeah. Honey, do yourself a favor.
That conscience of yours? Lose it.

Thanks for stopping by.

And my name is Gayle.

[Jessica]
Gayle, calm down. I'll handle this.

Look, the network has been
negotiating for the rights...

on one of my books for a miniseries.

Oh, yes. There is definitely
something that I can do about Mr. Stone and Mr. Sharkey.

Miss Hollander's office.
I'm sorry. She's on another line.

May I take a message?

Oh, yes, Mr. Bernstein.
I have you on the list.

Yes, three times.

I've told her.

Yes, sir. I'll tell her again.

Good afternoon.
Hello. I'm Jessica Fletcher. I have an appointment.

Oh, yes. Mrs. Fletcher.

Miss Hollander's tied up at the moment,
but, uh, the moment she's free, I'll tell her you're here.

Please have a seat.
Thank you.

That sounds a lot
like a threat, Sidney.

Kate, this is Sid Sharkey.
Right.

Kate, we're talking
high concept here.

Orphaned kids of the street
facing danger every minute...

to uphold
the American way of life.

Sid, you're talking
the Dead End Kids meet Mod Squad. It's as stale as a week-old bagel.

Kate, uh, I don't think
that you remember...

that you're talking to the man
who's responsible for one of your few hits.

Wrong, Sidney.
They tune in to see Gary and Brenda.

Besides, Avery Stone is twice
the producer you are.

You've been in on a pass
since day one.

Well, I'm sorry to hear you
say that, Katie.

When the boys in New York
start getting nervous about next year's schedule,

I hope it doesn't come down
to a choice between you and me!

Have a nice day!

[Handset Settles In Cradle]

[Phone Buzzes]

[Buzzing Continues]

Yes?
[Man] Mrs. Fletcher to see you, Miss Hollander.

Oh, yes.
Have her come in.

I mean, I'm- I'm hurt
and bewildered and a little angry,

Miss Hollander, that this kind of,
well, outright theft could be permitted.

I can assure you, Mrs. Fletcher,

that this sort of behavior
is not condoned here- certainly not by me.

Well, I was sure that it wasn't.

And while I have not read
your new book, I'm sure it's delightful.

- I've been a fan of yours
for so many years. - Oh, thank you.

Which is why I've been
fighting so hard to do...

that earlier book of yours
as a miniseries.

- Uh, Murder at the Asylum?
- I loved every page.

Oh, dear, I must be confused.

Um, I think that we're negotiating
Calvin Canterbury's Revenge.

Yes, of course we are.
And that one was even better.

Mrs. Fletcher-Jessica,

believe me, I'm going to deal
with Sid Sharkey in the strongest possible terms.

You have my word.
He will no longer be a bother to you.

Thank you.
I feel very relieved, Miss Hollander. Good-bye.

What the hell is this
"Get in here now"?

The last time I looked,
we were partners!

Right-
60/40, and I'm the 60.

What's going on between you
and Kate Hollander? What?

You been sucking up to her
behind my back? Of course not.

Buddy boy, I can feel the knife
between my shoulder blades.

All of a sudden,
you're the fair-haired boy.

You, who couldn't even get arrested
in this town a couple of years ago.

You, with so many bombs
on your résumé, you could stock your own arsenal.

- Hey, I don't have to take this.
- You don't make that show go. I do. Me!

[Chuckling] Oh, come on, Sid.
You don't even know which end of the camera the film goes in.

You think I can't run this series?
Well, buddy boy, you've never been more wrong.

- You're through.
- Oh, no. We got a contract.

Talk to my lawyer.
Get out!

No, no. You're gonna be talking
to my lawyer!

You want me out of here, Sid?
Fine.

I'll be able to retire 10 times over
on what I'm gonna get out of you.

And meantime, I'm gonna
keep on working.

And if you want me out, buddy boy,
you're gonna have to throw me out!

[Buzzes]

What?
[Woman] The director called, Mr. Sharkey.

Gary Patterson
just walked off the set.

Well, what do they want me
to do about it?

[Sharkey] You're the director!
You handle it! Sid! Wait a minute!

What do you want me to do,
threaten him with suspension or replacement?

It's your responsibility!
Get serious, will ya?

Look, if you want that narcissistic
egomaniac on the set, you're gonna have to get him yourself.

I don't talk to actors.

Schmooze him.
Give him anything. Promise him anything.

Just get him back to work.
Because if you don't, I'm yanking you off the picture.

Do that!

Come here a minute.

Remember a couple of years ago
when I found you in that motel room in Tijuana,

your brain half-friend
from that stuff you were putting up your nose?

Do you remember
who kept his mouth shut and gave you your first shot when you got out?

I never said I wasn't grateful.
Then do me a favor.

Get Patterson back to work.

Now, you understand
what I'm saying to you.

Sid-
I'm in kind of a hurry, baby.

A week ago I asked you
to write me out of the next three shows.

I can't do that.
Buddy Perlman wants me for his new feature.

Now, Sid, this is a real break.
But my agent has to know today. What do I have to do, beg?

Sweetheart, listen to me.
Forget features. Forget Perlman.

You're a TV star making big bucks.

I'm warning you.
I'll walk.

You do, and you'll be slingin' hash
at Dinty Moore's the rest of your life.

We've got a contract-
you and me, remember?

Now it may be a trap,
but it's lined with mink, so like they say,

lay back and enjoy it.

Uh, excuse me.
I'm looking for Mr. Sharkey.

Oh, I'm sorry.
He's not here.

Well, I'm Jessica Fletcher, and l-
Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm Freida Schmidt.
I'm Mr. Sharkey's secretary.

How do you do?
I have your message...

for Mr. Sharkey right here.

I'm sure he'll return your call
as soon as possible.

Yes, well, I have a great deal
to say to him,

and given a choice,
I'd rather say it in person.

Uh-huh.
[Phone Rings]

Mr. Sharkey's office.

Oh, Mr. Perlman.

Lunch tomorrow.

The Polo Lounge at 1:00.

I'll see that he gets
the message.

Almost 7:00.
[Chuckles] Time to call it a day.

Uh, yes. Well, uh-
I wonder, may I use your phone to call a cab?

Well, uh, where are you staying?
I'll be glad to drop you.

Oh, no. I couldn't bother you.
Nonsense. I'd be delighted.

Well, thank you.
That's very kind indeed.

Nothing waiting for me at home
except an antisocial cat and a TV dinner.

[Door Closes]

[Door Closes]

Good evening, Mr. Stone.
Good evening, Carmen.

Another late night, sir?

[Door Closes]
[Footsteps]

Sounds like I'm not the only one.

Now, that's strange.
I thought that you were the last person still here.

[Elevator Bell Dings]

Avery!

Hey, fellow, listen,
I'm sorry about that little blowup this afternoon.

You always are, Sid,
sooner or later.

No hard feelings?
No more than usual.

Listen, big guy,
the company's down on Stage 44.

They're moving slower
than a three-legged turtle.

Puzo's in his trailer
with another anxiety attack.

You hired him, Sid!
Yeah, well, this time he's through.

You find out whoever's
available, 'cause we're gonna dump him in the morning.

Carmen, ever consider becoming
a highly paid producer?

No.
Don't.

[Sirens Wailing]
[People Chattering]

[Police Radio Chatter]

[Sirens Wailing]

Uh, Jessica Fletcher.
Lieutenant Bradshaw, please.

Uh, Mr. Stone's office.
End of the corridor, turn left.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

They broke for a meal
30 minutes ago- Gayle?

Mrs. Fletcher,
what are you doing here?

I was summoned here.
But what in the world is going on?

Sid Sharkey's dead.
Something about a bomb.

That's all I know.
Oh, Lord.

[Sobbing]
Have a seat. I may need you later.

- Just who are you?
- Jessica Fletcher. And you?

- Take a seat inside.
- Excuse me, Lieutenant,

may I ask why-
Just where in the hell is this Hollander woman?

We called her an hour ago.
I don't think that we're gonna be able to get her.

I want her here in five minutes.
If she's not here, send the car and bring her.

The head of the studio says
that she's a very influential-

I couldn't care if she was
the queen of Hollywood. I want her here now.

If you please, ma'am.
[Sighs]

[Sobbing]

[Clears Throat]

Oh. You may sit down.

- Why, thank you, Lieutenant, uh-
- Bradshaw.

Where have you been for these
past three hours, Mrs. Fletcher? And can you prove it?

Now just one moment,
Lieutenant Bradshaw. I am here of my own free will.

For what reason,
I have no idea.

And before I answer
any of your questions,

I'd like to know
why I was summoned so abruptly to this studio.

Shortly before 9:00,
Sidney Sharkey was blown to his reward...

by a sizable amount of dynamite,

the said explosive being hidden
in what we believe to be...

a package wrapped in pink
feminine wrapping paper.

Now, shortly before the explosion,
a woman's footsteps were heard in the vicinity of his office.

Yeah, but what's that
got to do with me?

I mean, I was never involved
with Mr. Sharkey. I don't even know him.

- You see, I am a writer- a novelist.
- Oh, I know who you are.

I even read a few
of your books a few years back.

Frankly,
it was a waste of my time.

Well, thank you.
You called the guy you didn't know,

said you had to speak to him
on an urgent matter.

Yeah.
Well, I can explain that.

Now true or not- Sharkey was
going to steal your plotline of your latest book, wasn't he?

Yes, he was trying to steal it,
but, my goodness,

that was no reason for me to resort
to murder to stop him.

No? You came to see him
around 7:00.

Yes, and I left at 7:10.

The guard checked you in
and never checked you out.

Because his secretary and I
left by the back staircase.

It was a quicker way
to get to her car.

- But you could've
come back later the same way. - That's ridiculous.

Oh, we'll see.

[Gayle]
I'm not involved, Mrs. Fletcher. I did not leave that package.

Well, don't take it personally.
Lieutenant Bradshaw seems to be accusing every woman in sight,

including me.
But I had no alibi.

I mean, I was at my apartment
from about 4:00...

writing until about 10:30,
when this policeman came to my door to take me to the studio.

And you were alone?
Except for my canary. Mrs. Fletcher,

I haven't been here
in Hollywoodland for very long,

but one thing I have learned-

protect your fanny at all costs.

I mean, this creep Bradshaw
is out to make brownie points by solving this murder.

Well, that was
my impression precisely.

By the way, do you have
an alibi for 8:45?

- I was soaking in a hot tub.
- Anyone with you?

Thank you.

I know that-
[Clears Throat] Sid would have appreciated this-

this moment of respect.

As, uh, some of you already know,
we will be dedicating...

the remainder of this season
to his memory.

[Man]
Okay, folks, back to work now.

Bert,

I don't want any repeat
of last night. What are you talking about?

I am paying you
to direct the picture, not your assistant.

I understand that you went off
to your trailer a half-hour before dinner break.

I wasn't feeling well, Avery.
I had the shakes. I nearly passed out.

Working for Sid
will do that to you. Well, you're working for me now.

What's past is past.
So deliver me a picture, okay?

You got it.

Mr. Stone-
Uh,

Mrs. Fletcher, isn't it?
Yes.

I'm, uh- I'm terribly sorry you had
to get involved in all this. Yes-

Say, you know that story
that you worked out with Miss Yamada?

Personally, I loved it.
But Sid-

Well, Sid never did have much taste.
So nice to meet you.

Mr. Stone, I wonder if I could
bother you for a few minutes.

I need to talk to you
about last night.

Sorry. I don't know anything
about last night.

Oh, yes, of course.
You left just before the explosion.

I'm just lucky I wasn't
in the same room with him when the bomb went off.

Yes. I suppose now that
Mr. Sharkey's dead, you'll be in charge.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher,
whatever's going on here is none of your concern.

Furthermore, you have
no business being on this set,

or on the studio grounds,
for that matter.

And I'd very much appreciate it
if you'd leave.

Mrs. Fletcher, excuse me.

I'm Diane Crane.
Oh, yes.

I'm a close personal friend
of the star, Gary Patterson.

He's in his dressing room now.
He would really adore to meet you.

Oh.
Please.

Well, now. Whoa!
[Laughs] [Laughs]

This gal's not only a brain.
She's a mighty powerful armful too.

Well, it's a pleasure
to meet you, ma'am. Well, it's mutual, Mr. Patterson.

You know,
I just love your movies. Movies? [Chuckles]

Hell, I haven't had a movie in nine years.
Please, sit down.

Thank you.
No, sir. Don't care to.

Television-That's where it's at.

Reaching tens of millions of people,
week in and week out.

Yeah. Oh, and please,
call me Gary.

[Knocking]
Yes?

Uh, we're ready for you
on the set there, Mr. Patterson.

Is Sarah Bernhardt
out of her motor home yet?

[Man]
I'm not sure, sir. Well, son,

you come back
when you are sure. Okay.

Well, now, Jessica-
[Chuckles]

If you watch television,
I'm sure you know...

that good writers are scarcer
than snowballs in Tallahassee.

[Laughs]

Which is why I am prepared
to make you a million-dollar proposition.

What? Oh, no, really-
[Laughs]

Now hear me out, little lady.
I'm not talking about just writing an episode.

No, ma'am. Mm-mmm.
I want you to ramrod the scripts-

all of'em.
[Chuckles] But I don't know anything about writing for television.

What's to know?
"He said," "she said," blah, blah, blah.

I was here last night
from 8:30 to 9:30 just trying to make sense of my next scene.

Oh, you were here alone?

Yes, uh-Well, no.
I mean, well, me and the little lady-

Uh, Gary likes to bounce
his ideas off of me.

[Knocking]
Yes?

Oh. Gary, excuse me.
So sorry to bust in.

Mrs. Fletcher, I believe
I asked you politely to leave the lot.

She is talking to me, Stone.

Oh, fine. But, uh, when she's finished,
I would like to have her escorted out the main gate.

Mr. Stone, I'm afraid that
that presents something of a problem. You see, Mr. Patterson...

has offered me a job
developing scripts for the show,

and, uh, I've decided to accept.

[Sighs]
I'm so sorry we couldn't get you something better,

but, uh, they give all the really good
offices to the movie people.

Ah, I think this is lovely.

Oh, you should see
what the genius in the corner office has.

His last two pictures
lost 30 million bucks.

His fridge is stuffed
with beluga caviar.

[Chuckles]
Us they send Beer Nuts.

Well, anything you need,
I'll be right outside.

Just buzz.
Freida, I haven't had an opportunity to extend my condolences.

I understand you were
with Mr. Sharkey for 15 years.

Seventeen.
Even before he was the Hollywood wunderkind.

You know, everything
that man touched turned into a 40 share.

Everything.
And then, poof.

Well, you must have been
very close.

Actually, I hated the warthog.

You know, I, uh, didn't start out
as a secretary.

Oh, yes.

Nah, nah, nah. Nothing like that.
I was his assistant.

I was supposed to get
a shot at producing.

[Chuckles]
At least that's what he promised me.

But he always found an excuse
to keep me at the file drawer.

By the time I realized
what a louse he was, it was too late.

He paid me so much, I had to stay.
Mmm.

You know, Freida, that package
wasn't on the desk at 7:00.

Somebody must have put it there
after we left.

Oh, sure. The woman-
the one whose footsteps they heard. Probably.

Still-

Is there anything
that happened that day,

anything that you can remember
that was out of the ordinary?

[Chuckles]
It was the same old stuff.

I mean, Sid was aggravating people
right and left.

You know, there is something
I did notice.

What was that?

I got a quick look inside his office
right after the explosion just before they sealed it up,

and one of the file drawers
was open.

Now, I would never have left it open
like that, ever.

Was there anything special
in that particular file drawer?

Mm-hmm.
All his personal files-

correspondence, contracts,
that sort of thing.

Freida, is it possible you could
invent a reason to look in that drawer?

Sure. Why not?

Good.

Let me know what you find
or don't find.

Meanwhile, I'm going to have
a chat with Mr. Avery Stone.

Come on, Chuck.
You tired of the show, or what?

Lay off, Avery.
I approved the set. It looks great.

Since when are you an expert?
That sloping ceiling-

That looks good?
You think we're casting midgets here?

Eighty-six the ceiling, Chuck.
And the wallpaper. And the windows. Dump it.

And I want a new set of plans
on my desk by 6:00.

Okay, boys? Okay.

Oh-
[Laughs] Sorry.

Mrs. Fletcher.
We keep bumping into each other. Yes.

Uh, how's your new office?
Oh, just fine, thank you.

Great. You know, it's really terrific
having you on the show.

I can't tell you how long
I've been trying to get the network people...

to do new ideas,
fresh, original story lines.

Well, I'm just beginning
to grasp what an enormous responsibility I have.

I mean, trying to please
everyone.

Oh, poor Mr. Sharkey.
No wonder everyone was sniping at him.

You know, I had no idea
how universally disliked he was. Yeah.

His, uh, passing has left
a real void in my life.

Oh, yes. I'm sure.

But I'm not sure
that Kate Hollander,

our lady at the, uh, network
shares the same sense of loss.

The Iron Nightingale?
[Chuckles]

She hated Sid. You know why?
Because she needed him.

He talked her into putting
Danger Doctor on the air. She thought the show was garbage.

Of course, once it was a hit,
she started taking bows all over town.

[Pager Beeps]

Another crisis.
I have to get to a phone. Excuse me.

Oh-
Oh. You know that, uh, new story of Miss Yamada's?

Put it into work right away.
It's clever, original, and, uh-

Who knows? It might even
make a good episode.

[Tires Squeal]

[Horn Honking]

Jessica.
Thank heavens I found you.

Diane, what is it?
What's the matter?

I've been looking all over for you.

It's this latest script.
Gary absolutely hates it.

Ah. I'm sorry.
I haven't had a chance-

Gary would never dream
of asking you himself,

but if you could just see
your way to do some polish on it.

But I'm not a screenwriter.
I mean-

Well, Gary has
some wonderful ideas.

If you could sit down with him
for just a few minutes-

No, really.
Writing a script is Avery Stone's job.

That hack?
He has not had an original idea in his whole life.

Jessica, please.

I really don't want
to disappoint Gary.

He's having such
a rough time lately.

Diane, how long have you
been doing this?

Doing what?
Running interference for Mr. Patterson.

I mean, I love that act-

you know, that folksy, warm,
down-home character.

But that's really all it is, isn't it?
It's just an act.

No.
And as long as he's got you to do his dirty work for him,

he can maintain that image.

Isn't that right?

He wants everybody to love him.

Inside, he's just a scared little boy.

I guess that comes
with being a star.

And did Mr. Sharkey love him?

Maybe I should turn
that question around.

How did he feel
about Sid Sharkey?

Gary didn't kill him.
I didn't ask you that.

Gary was in his dressing room
during the supper break the entire time.

I'll swear to it.
And will he swear...

that you were there with him
the entire time?

Oh, Diane. Even a blind man
can see that you two were lying earlier.

I did leave the dressing room
for a short time.

He needed some medicine
from home.

I left by the back gate.
Our house isn't very far from here.

I wasn't gone long, really.

When we learned that they had heard
a woman's footsteps...

in the corridor
shortly before the explosion,

well, we just decided
to keep quiet.

Do you think we did
the wrong thing?

I think that you should tell
Lieutenant Bradshaw the truth.

He's a bulldog, but he's fair.

And until he has all the facts,
I don't think he'll make any wild accusations.

You did it, honey.
You killed the guy. [Shutter Clicking]

And I'm this far from proving it.
That's a slanderous accusation, Lieutenant.

That's all right.
I can handle this, Leon.

Oh. You say you have
no alibi after 8:00 p.m. The night of the murder.

Nor do I need one.
Why would she kill him? They were close.

In fact, Miss Hollander
was on the verge of buying a new series from the man.

Make sure you get that in the story.
[Man] Could we stop worrying about publicity here?

Miss Hollander is being interrogated
in connection with a murder.

Which just happens to be
front-page stuff.

- Look, we know she's not guilty.
- You know it, but I don't.

Oh, Lieutenant. I told you
you were wasting your time when you walked in here.

Obviously this is just
a fishing expedition. [Laughs]

Or maybe the lieutenant is looking
for a little press of his own...

with this unwarranted
interrogation.

Miss Hollander, did you
or did you not tell Mrs.J.B. Fletcher- and I have a direct quote-

"I'm going to deal with Sid Sharkey
in the strongest possible terms"?

- Oh, for heaven's sake.
- "You have my word he will no longer be a problem. "

It was just an expression.
Sounds more like a threat to me.

[Phone Rings]
[Man] This is a total waste of time.

Hello?
Look, Miss Hollander is trying to cooperate, Lieutenant.

Then have her tell me where she was
between 8:00 and 10:30 the night Sharkey was killed!

I was in bed reading scripts.

[Bradshaw]
Terrific.

My secretary was in the bed too-
taking notes.

- Don't write that down.
- That was USA Today.

They want to do a three-column
layout on you in Thursday's edition.

Work it out.

Now, where were we?

I believe we were discussing
dictation.

Hello, Gayle.
Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh. Are you really sure
that you want to be in this business?

I'm really beginning to wonder.

What have we got here?
CAA? ICM? APA?

These sound like some sort
of ballistic missiles.

Agents.
[Chuckles] Oh.

News of your new job traveled fast.
They're calling with their congratulations and their client lists-

not necessarily in that order.

I gather that, uh,
you've, uh, heard from Mr. Stone about our story.

Yes. And I don't want you
to think that I'm ungrateful,

but, well-

Maybe we just have
so many words in us,

and I'm not sure that I want
to waste any of mine on fearless Steve Valiant, M.D.

Well, you won't get
any argument from me.

Well, the fact is,
I've got 40 pages of a novel in my desk drawer,

and, well, although I know
it means starvation for a while,

l-I'd like to give it
another try. Good for you.

And when you think
you're ready to have it read, I'd be glad to look at it.

Would you?
Of course.

[Chuckles]
[Chuckles] Oh, that's just super.

And good luck.
Oh, thanks, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thanks.

Hi.

Well, what about that file drawer?
Did you manage to get a look?

I sure did.
And one piece of paper is conspicuously absent-

Brenda Blake's personal services
contract with Sid Sharkey.

You've stitched your last
sutures, Doc.

You won't shoot me.
You haven't the guts.

Steve-
Cut!

[Buzzer Buzzes]
Okay, uh, Mario, bring in the stunt people, please.

Stunt people now, please.

Uh, Miss Blake,
we have to talk right away.

Look, I'm in the next shot.

Hey, is this-
Is this about my movie?

Uh, no.
It's about your contract-

the one that disappeared
from the files in Sid Sharkey's office.

- I'm- I'm sorry.
I don't know what you're- - Mrs. Fletcher.

Lieutenant.
What are you doing here?

Maybe we came up
with the same three cherries on the slot machine,

but I've got the warrant.

Brenda Blake,

I'm placing you
under arrest for the murder of Sidney Sharkey.

I didn't kill him.
I mean, why would I?

You're an actress, sweetheart.
Buddy Perlman had offered you a big part in his movie.

Sharkey wouldn't let you out.
And for me, that's motive enough for murder.

- Who says he wasn't
going to let me out? - Ah!

The fact is, Bert Puzo told me...

that Sid was having lunch
with Perlman the next day at the Polo Lounge.

Do you know
what that says to me?

Sid was going to sell me off
for a big price.

Oh, yes.
Your personal services contract.

[Sighs]
Look,

I couldn't have killed him.

During the dinner break,
I was lying down in my motor home the whole time.

Well, that's odd.
The assistant director came by the motor home...

and knocked several times,
but you did not answer.

Well, yes, l- I did hear the knock,
but I was dozing, so I just decided to ignore it.

- I'm sorry, Miss Blake,
but I made that up. - What?

Well, you better start
telling the truth, sweetheart. I'm running out of patience with you.

Okay, okay.

- I did leave my trailer,
and I did go to Sid's office. - Now we're getting somewhere.

I had to get that contract
away from him.

Do you know what it's like
doing this dumb series,

grinding out sausage
for two schlockmeisters like Sharkey and Stone?

L- I am an actress.

And it was your footsteps they heard
in the corridor... shortly before 9:00.

And what about the package-
the one wrapped in the pink paper?

Did you see that
on the desk? I don't know. L-

Wait a minute. Yes.

Yes, I did see it.

Oh, great. That means anyone
could have left it there earlier.

Not just anyone.
Someone specific.

- You know who?
- I have a good idea.

Freida, how late
is the company working tonight?

Till about midnight.
[Bradshaw] Uh, Mrs. Fletcher,

if you've got an idea,
uh, let's hear it.

Freida, would you come in,
please?

Look, I don't know
how legal this is or if it'll work,

but without any real proof,
it may be the only chance we have to catch the killer.

[Cast, Crew Chattering]

[Freida]
Bert?

What do you say, Freida?

I've been waiting all day
to talk to you, Bert.

You were there last night
in Sid's office.

Must've been when you were
supposed to be in your trailer having that anxiety attack.

What is this, a joke?

You had to be there.

You told Brenda about that
luncheon engagement...

with Buddy Perlman
at the Polo Lounge.

How'd you know about that,
Bert?

Call came in at 7:00.

I put it on the calendar.

You couldn't have known about it
unless you saw his calendar...

when you put the bomb
on his desk.

You're crazy.
[Chuckles]

Look,

I'm not going to the police.

Well, not yet.

Well, Sid's dead.

I need a place to land-
somewhere secure.

Oh, I'm not greedy, Bert.

You'll find
I'm a very agreeable partner.

Freida, I need these notes
typed up right away.

[Sighs]
Mr. Stone, it's almost 8:00.

These'll take a couple of hours.

We all have to do
our bit, Freida.

Terrific.

Sure thing, Mr. Stone.
Pleasure.

We'll talk later, Bert.

[Door Closes]

[Footsteps Approaching]

- [Gasps]
- Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. Lieutenant?

Sorry, sir.

Well, nice idea while it lasted,
but he never bit.

They broke for a meal
30 minutes ago.

Puzo left the set only once-
to put his briefcase in the trunk of his car,

and then hejoined
the others for supper. His trunk?

I saw him go to his car this morning.
He doesn't have a trunk.

What kind of a car
was that, Sergeant,

and where was it parked?

Well, Anne, I guess
you can file this one away. Case closed.

Cut!
That's a wrap, folks. [Buzzer Buzzes]

Uh, Mr. Puzo?
I know it's late, but I have to talk to you.

You're right, Mrs. Fletcher.
It is late.

Uh, can't this wait?
No, it can't.

What do you mean, strange?
Freida is a rock.

You're wrong.
Oh, no. No, I'm sorry. There's something wrong.

I mean, uh-
She's been in such a strange mood, and when I mentioned your name-

Mrs. Fletcher.

I told you to mind
your own business.

- Freida, you crazy?
- Yes. Crazy to have ever trusted you.

Now move.

Both of you.
Oh, now wait just a minute-

I said move
before I hurt somebody.

Oh, dear Lord.
Look, I don't know what you think you're doing-

Oh, I'm taking you
to the police, Bert.

And at this point,
I don't very much care whether I drag you in alive or dead.

Now start walking.
My car's just around the corner.

I think we should do
as she asks.

- Puzo, get behind the wheel.
- No.

Please, Mr. Puzo.
I think she means it.

- Freida, you're insane.
- [Chuckles] Maybe I am.

Get in.

In!
And shut the door.

Let's go.
Freida, for God's sake-

Start up the engine.

- Well, then I'll do it.
- No!

We've already removed the bomb
you planted from the car, Mr. Puzo.

We didn't want to see
any more people get blown up.

[Indistinct Radio Chatter]

Well, Mrs. Fletcher, l-
I guess I ought to say thanks.

You may not be much of a writer,
but, uh, you'd make one hell of a cop.

[Chuckles]
Well, I'll take that in the spirit in which it was intended- I think.

Um, can I give you
a lift somewhere?

Oh, thanks, no.
I'm gonna to say good-bye to Diane and Gary, and, uh-

Actually, I'm resigning.
Now don't get talked into anything.

Absolutely not.

[Kate]
Jessica!

Jessica, thank God
I've caught you!

Hello, Miss Hollander.
You cannot leave until we've talked.

If it's about the miniseries,
would you take it up with my agent?

Forget the mini.
I've got a much better idea. Oh?

A weekly series.
TheJessica Fletcher Mystery Hour. What?

The real-life adventures
of a crime-busting mystery writer.

No, no, no, no.

Oh, yes, yes.
It'll be sensational.

New, different, original,
but familiar.

Miss Hollander,
I don't write gunfights,

car chases or bedroom scenes,
so who would watch?

I'm sorry, but that is absolutely
the worst idea I have ever heard.

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