Original subtitles

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote

Construction on Gillrich Towers

begins immediately upon demolition of those brownstones.

- The bad guys are running the store. - It’s easy to feel that way.

If I have to tear it down with my own hands, that building falls.

You ever come back here, Gillrich, you’re a dead man.

Notify the captain. We got a break.

- That is absolutely fabulous. - You caught me.

I slept last night, knowin’ the cops are off my case.

Margaret doesn’t know how to say no.

I find that pillow talk brings out a man’s generosity

and expectations.

I don’t believe the end justifies the means.

I’m a little tired of this condescension.

They’re knocking down buildings all over New York,

and for what? More skyscrapers.

Oh, Jessica, I envy you your Cabot Cove retreat.

Hi. Thanks for being here.

Look, Jessica, two out of these three

beautiful old buildings have already been vacated.

Without Number 65, they won’t be able to build anything

much less a 40-storey co-op.

Which is why I asked you for lunch.

We have been engaged in an absolute dog fight over these buildings.

Look, Carol, I really want to help,

but I just had my editor’s notes on my final draft.

Now don’t worry. Margaret is joining us for lunch,

she’s assured me that the deadline’s pretty flexible.

Margaret just doesn’t know how to say no.

Look, I’d be delighted to make a contribution, but...

No buts.

We’ve got a hearing scheduled at the city--

- Hi, Mrs. Fletcher, Miss Collins. - Hi, Margaret.

Sorry. Something came up.

Do you realize that Margaret discovered

that Eugene O’Neill did rewrites

for Strange Interlude from this very table?

I think it was when it was a speakeasy.

A famous gangster used it as an office.

Dutch Schultz.

And did you know that Ernest Hemingway

used to live on the top floor?

When you called last week,

I did a little bit of digging around

at the local historical society.

Hemingway on the top floor!

Jessica, you are wonderful!

We have managed to save the homes of Mark Twain

and Edna St. Vincent Millay,

and now, Hemingway and O’Neill.

And Dutch Schultz.

A close, personal friend of my grandfather’s.

He brought in a lot of business, believe me.

What are you drinkin’, young lady?

Got any non-alcoholic beer?

Comin’ up. Ladies.

Look, Carol, I’ll be delighted to sign any petition

or letter or whatever.

But I’m afraid this book deadline

precludes me being involved any further than that.

- She’s right, Miss Collins. - Oh.

Is there any chance that these developers--

The Gillrich brothers.

Well, is there any chance that they might consider an alternate site?

Believe me, we have tried.

We put any number of possibilities on the table.

What would be acceptable to me is if Eugene Gillrich

is found in cement shoes at the bottom of the East River.

Oh, come on, Vincent.

The hearing is simply a formality.

It isn’t as if we’re gonna default on the loan.

You tell him, darling.

You bought those buildings, you have a right to knock them down.

Lee, please, the man is just a bean counter.

Vince, Vince.

In the last week, foreign interests have committed

to renting the rest of the ground floor retail space.

Not true.

Any cash flow problems you think we’re having are just rumors.

Vincent, would I hang you out to dry?

You tell your loan committee

that we are absolutely on schedule.

Construction on Gillrich Towers

begins immediately upon demolition of those brownstones,

which we’re hitting with the wrecker’s ball in 72 hours.

- Okay, but not a minute more. - All right.

I will call you

immediately upon the completion of that hearing.

- I’ll do what I can. - Thanks.

Uh... foreign interests?

Since when?

Since soon.

Hey, Walter, you have an eye.

Your opinion of my bride’s latest sketches.

My instructor says I’m really growing.

These are for the model apartments in the Gillrich Towers.

Well, these are... these are very nice, Lee.

All the promise you showed when you did Eugene’s office here.

Thank you.

Oh, Eugene, I just got off the phone with a Margaret Johnson

from the City Preservation Committee.

Damn it, Walter, I told you not to take their calls anymore.

She just wanted to know what’s to become

of a woman in Number 65,

one of the tenants,

a Mrs. Rhodes, who’s 87 years old,

and has lived there for 60 years.

Are we throwing her out?

Of course not. You wouldn’t let me.

In fact, we’ve already committed to paying for her move to Florida.

This injunction they’re going for...

Miss Johnson wanted me to tell you

there are gonna be pickets and TV coverage

she also wanted to know whether you’ve had time

to review those alternate sites.

Or maybe we could at least spare Number 65.

Oh God, Walter, whose side are you on?

Look, how many times do I have to spell it out for you?

Come on, Eugene. I’m a little tired of this condescension.

Walter, Eugene.

These people are determined to make real trouble for us.

I don’t see why we can’t at least consider an alternate site.

You think you know real trouble?

63, 65, 67.

When we lose 65, the whole project crashes and burns, Walter,

followed immediately by us.

Now, all I want from you tomorrow at the hearing

is silence.

And after, the Hamptons,

before you have a coronary.

If the hearings don’t give me one first.

We could still lose this whole thing, Lee.

It could go away from us,

even without Walter’s help.

This is Mike La Rocca with a feature report

for Channel 6 at the City Courthouse,

where a surprise development took place a few moments ago

as the hearings adjourned for the day with no decision.

I am with two members of the City Preservation Committee.

What is your reaction to the split at Gillrich Realty, Miss Johnson?

Me? Well, I--

The fact that Walter Gillrich publicly broke ranks with his brother,

and agreed to consider alternate sites

means that even the enemy has a sense of history...

and a conscience,

about architectural continuity,

and senior citizens being thrown out into the streets.

- What were you thinking? - Thank you very much, ladies.

I believe I see Eugene Gillrich coming out.

- Mr. Gillrich, Mike La Rocca. - No comment.

But today, your brother seemed to break ranks with the--

- It’s clearly a misunderstanding. - Forgive me, Mr. Gillrich,

but that sounds like an oxymoron.

Walter Gillrich, perhaps you have something to say.

My brother has nothing more to say.

Mr. Walsh, you have a lease on the 65 bar

that allows you to operate the place till they tear it down.

That’s right, Mike.

And with the friends turnin’ out like today,

and Walter Gillrich comin’ through at the 11th hour,

it looks as if my lease is gonna last as long as I do.

Yes, but some cynics are saying

that, due to all this publicity, the 65 has turned into a cash cow,

and you into an overnight devotee of cultural history.

Hey, Mike, the 65 was my father’s,

and my grandfather’s before him,

a hangout for the famous and the infamous.

And if you wanna talk cold beer,

and the best-liked steak sandwich in town--

Thanks very much, Mr. Walsh.

This is Mike La Rocca, Channel 6 News,

at City Hall.

It’s nice to finally meet you in person.

Ernest Hemingway in 4B.

For whom the Bell tolls.

That’s my favorite, Miss Johnson.

- Margaret. - Margaret.

He wrote it on top of an icebox on legal paper.

He was tall.

Instead of a desk.

Yeah, well, I’d need a desk.

I’m not that tall. I’m also not Ernest Hemingway.

Walter.

Car’s waiting.

Uh, we’ll talk, Margaret.

And tonight, many of the faithful

will hold a rally at the 65 bar,

which, like a cat, may truly have nine lives.

It won’t quite be a victory rally,

but after this day’s events,

many of the Preservation Committee supporters

believe that the construction of the Gillrich Towers

is no longer--

Carol, it’s Jessica Fletcher.

I hope I’m not calling you too late.

I had the news on, and it’s good, for a change.

Well, I guess the two-day reprieve

is better than a demolition permit,

but still, there’s no telling

what Eugene Gillrich has

up those immaculately tailored sleeves,

except that you can be certain

it will be Machiavellian.

Well, I find I’m a little ahead of schedule,

so if another body will help at the rally--

Oh, Jessica,

that is absolutely fabulous.

I’ll alert that cute reporter from Channel 6.

You are an angel.

Thanks for calling. Bye.

Bye.

Did you hear that?

Another celebrity isn’t going to impress them downtown.

What gets those people where they live

are the tax revenues the city will realize

from my new co-ops.

So you know that romancing me

isn’t gonna shake my people off your back.

Carol, has it occurred to you

that I may have no ulterior motive?

For about two wish-fulfilling seconds,

until you flunked my reality check.

You have a very young, very attractive wife.

Who’s very busy this afternoon with homework.

So you thought you’d come by, do a little of your own,

at my home.

Why don’t you think of me

as an insatiable student?

There’s always new things to learn.

Excuse me. Sir?

Is the report ready to be typed?

Uh, not yet, Evelyn.

Look, it’s almost 6:00.

Why don’t you leave it till tomorrow?

Right. Thank you, Sir. Good night.

Hey, La Rocca, wait up. We gotta talk.

Ah, Victor, just the man I wanted to see.

Listen, about the layout for my 64th Street special.

My picture has got to be bigger, okay?

The lettering has to be behind me, you know?

Which is where I’d like to be with a sledgehammer.

What do you mean, Victor?

I mean I’ve been upstairs for the last two hours

trying to explain away the bill of goods I let you sell me.

It’s a sure thing, Victor. Who’s got the muscle to stop the Gillrich brothers?

You’re talkin’ about this landmark preservation business?

It’s all smoke, Victor. It’s gonna happen.

Yeah, from your lips,

we’ve got pickets, petitioners,

angry ladies, hearings, evicting old people,

and we’ve got sponsors going South in droves, Mike.

- Some sure thing, huh? - Victor, you know as well as I do

that only means bigger ratings.

And if it doesn’t happen, the station’s out.

All the thousands they spent promoting it,

and I’m out all my credibility.

Mike, we’re gonna figure out another angle.

An out. Do you understand me?

Victor, not to worry. I have a little plan of my own.

If I have to tear it down with my own hands, that building falls.

So did you finish the notes for the book?

Yeah, it’s only a page. I’ll fax it to your place tonight.

Oh, that’s great.

Lucky to get a space.

Isn’t that Eugene Gillrich’s wife?

So it is.

What do you suppose she’s doing on enemy turf?

Spying, perhaps?

Really? Well, Ms. Gillrich is probably here

to lend her husband some support.

But I guess it’s easier to manufacture some excuse

to break my lease.

Well, anyway, hey, Pete, first round’s on me,

then it’s every man for himself.

This whole building, right?

Yes.

Mike La Rocca with celebrated local author J.B. Fletcher.

So, does your pub crawling bring you here often?

Well, I live just around the corner.

Tell me something, Miss Fletcher.

What’s the appeal of these broken-down old tenements

to a bright, successful woman such as yourself?

As a neighborhood resident,

I’d like the area to remain just that--

A neighborhood.

Thank you very much.

Mr. Gillrich, off the record,

you coming over here a sign of capitulation?

For the record, Mr. La Rocca,

my coming over here is to talk dollars

and common sense with the neighborhood merchants.

- More specifically? - More specifically,

what’s wrong with 1,000 affluent new residents,

all of them ready to shop till they drop?

You think they’d be afraid to show their faces around here.

To answer your question, Mrs. Fletcher,

I live over in Queens. I’m the visiting nurse

to Mrs. Rhodes upstairs in 4B.

Oh, where is she?

Fifty years in one building.

It would be wonderful to get her on the news.

You know, Mrs. Collins, I don’t think she’s quite up to it,

but I’ll be glad to give her the petition.

- I know she wants to sign up. - All right.

Ah, J.B. Fletcher. Eugene Gillrich.

Oh, yes, Mr. Gillrich.

It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you.

And Miss Collins.

Well, allow me to buy you both a drink.

- Miss Collins? - A dry martini.

And Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, um, White wine?

One white wine, and a dry martini with an onion.

- Got it. - Yeah, speak up.

Margaret Johnson? Yeah. Margaret Johnson.

Maggie, phone call!

Thank you.

Hello.

Why yes, I’d love to.

That would be wonderful, Walter.

So. This is the table where Eugene O’Neill

supposedly carved his initials?

Granddad said he used a steak knife.

Nolan, my offer’s still open.

Oh, come on.

Give up this City Preservation crusade.

Sign on for demolition,

and I will move this place, lock, stock and sawdust

to the East side.

You’ll become another Hard Rock Cafe.

T-shirts, souvenirs,

and tourists lined up around the block.

Yo, people!

You’re parked out front, the cops are towin’.

On the down side,

you must know that I’m a man who has a lot of friends downtown.

I mean, one phone call, and the city fire department

finds your venerable old institution a trap.

And another phone call to, say,

the city health department,

and they find rats in your kitchen.

I don’t take too good to threats, Mr. Gillrich.

Look, Nolan, Nolan,

we’re just a couple of workin’ stiffs

tryin’ to turn a buck here.

Come on, why don’t you give up this nostalgia garbage,

and, I mean, your lace-curtain origins.

You ever come back here, Gillrich, you’re a dead man.

All right, all right.

- What’s wrong? - Let’s go.

He said he’d have that report on my desk

first thing this morning.

But knowing Walter, it’s probably not there.

Knowing Walter, he probably typed it himself, so it might...

Walter.

Oh, my God.

Okay, lieutenant, the janitor says

he saw the victim last night around 6:30 at the water cooler.

But, with his vacuum running, he never heard a shot.

According to the after-hours sign-in sheet,

nobody got up here past 6:00.

God, suppose we’re lookin’ at a robbery also?

Man’s dead, wearing a $1,000 watch. I don’t think so.

He was shot at close range.

Figures maybe he knew the shooter.

The bullet went into the back of the chair,

in here, and out here.

Well, keep looking for the bullet.

And Henderson, cheer up, will you?

We’ll solve this... or not.

Mr. Gillrich, I know this isn’t a great time

to be piecing together what happened,

but let me talk to you over here.

Whatever it takes. I want who did this caught now.

Did your brother have any enemies?

- Not a one. - Everybody liked him.

Someone who he let go?

Someone who didn’t get a promotion

returns with a gun. It happens.

I know, but we’re a small company.

We haven’t let anyone go in years.

I saw on the news,

you and Walter had a flare-up at City Hall.

You accusing me?

My brother worked nights to put me through college.

His capital started this business.

I loved him.

For the report,

where were the both of you between, say,

6:30 and 10:00 last night?

The 65 Bar. We went there about 6:00.

We left there around 9:30. Witnesses saw us.

Then we took a cab home.

Do you have any idea why Walter was at your desk?

His office connects, but, no, I don’t.

Walter’s report. Maybe he was bringing it in when he was shot.

We did find a draft of an Environmental Impact report on his desk.

It hadn’t been typed up.

Reports, permits, condos.

It all seems so damned unimportant now.

Lieutenant, Mike La Rocca, Channel 6.

No comment.

So the department has nothing to go on,

citizens stand by helpless as another senseless shooting goes unsolved.

La Rocca, you wanna make speeches?

Run for Congress, all right?

Victor. Okay.

Just remember, that was Walter Gillrich

who gummed up his brother’s plans.

With him gone, it’s clear sailing.

Wrong. I just heard it on the news.

Until the police know why he’s gone,

the planning board is postponing the final hearing.

No digging for Dutch Schultz’ victims

till further notice, if ever.

I swear to God, La Rocca,

I am not gonna be the only one lookin’ who’s for a job.

The police, look, they know what they’re doing,

they’ll find the killer, we’ll be in business.

And what makes you so sure?

Call it my nose for news.

I really don’t think there’s anything I can add, Artie.

I met Walter at the hearing.

He became our political Ally, so to speak.

That was the last time you saw him?

In person, you mean?

We spoke later on the phone, about 6:30, I think.

Department’s already getting heat from Eugene Gillrich

and his City Hall contacts. What I don’t get is, Eugene is the heavy,

and Walter, who never had an enemy in the world,

winds up with a hole in his chest.

Gelber.

Doris? What?

When?

Oh, that’s terrible.

Our year-old grandson was turned down by

the Wee School in the Dells Infant Program.

How could they do that? The kid’s brilliant.

He fell asleep during the interview?

I’ll get back to you, Doris.

Sorry.

Artie, since Walter was shot from behind in his brother’s office,

I assume that you’ve considered the possibility

that Eugene was the intended victim,

and that Walter was killed by mistake?

Yeah, yeah, we have.

Apparently, the list of people who can’t stand Eugene

begins with Nolan Walsh and ends with his friends.

Coroner’s office approximates time of death

at 8:00 to 9:00 p.m.

do you know how many homicides he said there were last night, Lieutenant?

Henderson, I don’t care, okay?

We worry about this one, period, then we go on to the next.

Henderson is convinced that the bad guys are running the store.

It’s easy to feel that way.

The lab’s backed up.

They’re still running the fingerprints

no bullet’s been found yet,

and, oh, yeah, the taxi company confirmed

that the Gillriches got home at 9:30.

Henderson, check all the tenants in 65.

If Gillrich was trying to throw me

out of my rent-controlled apartment,

no love lost, yes?

Here are the tenant lists for all three buildings.

Old Mrs. Rhodes in 65, could you die?

She’s been there so long, she’s only paying $300 a month.

300? Maybe the old bird would like some roommates,

share the expenses. Doris and I don’t take up much space.

Maybe Mrs. Rhodes put out a contract on Eugene Gillrich

so she wouldn’t lose her pad.

Or the ghost of Dutch Schultz did it.

Henderson, check every tenant.

Even Mrs. Rhodes.

You sure I can’t get you some coffee?

Something to calm you down?

No, thank you.

It’s these petitions, Miss Collins.

They’ve been thrown out.

There are at least 900 dead people.

Oh, really? I don’t understand that.

Collectors were moving rather slowly, but still...

Now don’t you worry.

Signatures can be replaced.

There are plenty of people out there who are willing to sign.

Eugene Gillrich’s lawyer has moved to have

the whole petition drive declared invalid.

I don’t think Eugene Gillrich

will allow him to do that.

You don’t? Why?

Why don’t you give me those petitions,

and I’ll take care of everything.

Thank you.

Suffice it to say, Margaret,

that there is no teacher quite like experience,

especially when it comes to learning exactly where a man’s buttons are,

and when to push them.

Miss Collins.

Mm-hmm?

I don’t think I really understand you.

That’s very true.

But try to think of it in terms of you and Walter.

I hardly knew Walter.

Oh, that’s what you may tell the police,

but when you got the phone call at the Bar last night,

I heard you call him by name,

and then you left right after.

You did go and see Walter last night, didn’t you?

No. I have to go.

I have to tell you this.

A lot of people think Walter was killed by mistake,

that the real target was Eugene.

- So I heard. - Miss Collins, just so you know,

even though a cause may be just,

I don’t believe the end justifies the means.

I like you, Margaret,

but I don’t want to see you get hurt.

You mustn’t go through life tilting at dragons like don quixote.

Don quixote tilted at windmills.

Okey, St. George slew dragons.

You see? That’s just what I mean.

After a while, who remembers?

I sneak out of here,

and kill Walter Gillrich.

And the settlers...

they ambush the cavalry,

as they ride to the rescue.

Now his brother, maybe.

Precisely, Mr. Walsh.

You slug Eugene in front of a lot of people,

you grab a knife, and you threaten to kill him.

You leave after he does,

you sneak into his office,

it looks like him in his chair,

and you pop Walter by mistake.

If I may say so, Lieutenant,

from what I know of Mr. Walsh,

if he had decided to go after Eugene Gillrich,

there would’ve been no mistakes.

She’s speakin’ the truth on that one, all right.

I’m not so sure I’d like that kind of a character reference

tossed around about me.

Stay in town.

I’d hate to have to send for the cavalry.

Gelber.

Yeah, Henderson? What?

What? Whose prints?

I never would’ve figured that.

Notify the captain. We got a break.

Hello.

Mrs. Fletcher? This is Margaret’s assistant. She...

she won’t be able to keep her appointment.

Peggy, what is it?

The police just arrested her

for the killing of Walter Gillrich.

Margaret?!

Thank you, Peggy.

"8:30 p.m."

Oh, Mrs. Gillrich, I’m very sorry about your brother-in-law.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher,

but it’s been much harder on Eugene, as you can imagine.

Well, I certainly can.

Excuse me. I want to check with the Lieutenant.

Doris, in this town, money talks.

Maybe that’s what it’s gonna take

for them to look a little more kindly on little Josh.

Later.

- Jessica... - Look, Artie,

I have to talk to you about Margaret Johnson.

Look, Jessica, we didn’t pull it out of the ether.

Her fingerprints match with those on an elevator button,

and on the doors of the reception area.

And in her initial statement,

she said the only time she talked to Walter was on the phone.

So how come we find this "Save our Block" pin

with Miss Johnson’s thumbprint on it?

Artie, I was just asked to sign in downstairs.

How is it that you don’t have Margaret’s signature from that night?

Well, she admits to meeting Walter downstairs

at around 7:00 for a drink in the restaurant.

Then, they came up here to talk about the hearing.

She didn’t have to sign in because Walter was with her.

Your lab people put Walter’s death at around 8:30.

Now I think I can prove that Margaret wasn’t here then.

She couldn’t, and you can?

Margaret faxed me these notes last night from her apartment.

Look. My fax machine prints out

a chronological summary of messages I received.

There’s Margaret’s fax to me at 8:30,

following an 8:10 fax and preceding another which came in around 9:00.

Jessica, suppose that the coroner’s off by 30 minutes.

Walter’s murdered at 8:00, in which case,

Margaret’s at home faxing you as she claims at 8:30.

Artie, I can’t believe that she would murder

an Ally that she was beginning to grow very fond of.

Well, she is so lucky to have a friend like you,

but you know what she really needs right now?

She needs an alibi with no holes in it.

Artie, the carpet here is gold.

Yeah, so?

Jessica, you’re doin’ it again, aren’t you?

This carpet is blue, Lieutenant.

Jessica, we like each other,

but picking out patterns...

but if blue carpet fuzz was on the wheels of the chair

in Eugene’s gold-carpeted office where Walter was found,

it’s possible that Walter was killed here in his own office.

Perhaps he was the intended victim all along.

You mean... wait, wait.

The killer pushes Walter in his chair into Eugene’s office.

Then he pushes Eugene’s empty chair back in here,

so that we believe from the get-go

that the wrong man was murdered.

No wonder you couldn’t find the bullet.

We were looking in the wrong office.

Ah, I love it.

You gave us the missing piece, Jessica.

Romance turns sour.

- Romance? - Walter wines Margaret.

They come up here, just like she said,

only this time, not to talk about hearings.

She’s growing fond of him, like you said.

Maybe he got rough with her, she tries to push him off.

Not the first time a guy doesn’t stop when a woman says no.

And then...

Miss Johnson, what can I tell you?

We live in a society where it’s easier to prove you own a gun

than it is to prove you don’t own a gun.

Some places, it’s harder to buy a pack of cigarettes.

Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Artie.

I mean, think.

Doesn’t it just smack of circumstantial evidence?

Jessica, the D.A.’s people are comfortable with it.

This is crazy, for God’s sakes.

You’ve all caved in under the pressure

Eugene Gillrich put on your superiors to charge somebody.

That’s the only reason I’m here.

Lieutenant, the statements from the residents of 65.

None of them seemed all that hostile toward the Gillrich brothers.

Ha, they say. Did you get everyone?

Except Mrs. Rhodes. I couldn’t reach her, only her answering machine.

Her nurse called back to say Mrs. Rhodes’ niece came in from Jersey

to bring her out there for a few days.

So get an address. You don’t need a passport to take the Lincoln Tunnel

into New Jersey, at least the last time I looked.

The coffee’s still warm.

Jessica, would you care for some with milk?

Thank you.

Miss Johnson, don’t tell me, let me guess.

- Black, right? - No, thank you.

Look, Jessica, I would love it

if you and Margaret... Jessica? What?

Memory.

The way people order their drinks.

- Say again. - Margaret, keep a good thought.

It’s 2:00 tomorrow, Nolan.

Now that Walter’s murder is solved,

the Planning Board’s going ahead with the final hearing.

I think it’s safe to say

we’ll all have reason to celebrate.

I don’t mind tellin’ you, I slept last night,

knowin’ the cops are off my case.

To sleeping.

Oh, Jessica, what a lovely surprise.

- Do you have a few moments, Carol? - Of course.

I’ve got a few things to take care of. Why don’t you have a seat?

Thanks.

I don’t for a moment believe that Margaret killed Walter Gillrich.

Carol, I must ask you to be very truthful with me.

And I haven’t been?

You and Eugene Gillrich were not only bitter enemies,

but each one of you said that you hadn’t met until the hearing.

That wasn’t the truth?

The night of the rally,

Mr. Gillrich offered us a round of drinks,

and I overheard him tell the barkeeper

that you preferred one with an onion,

as you have here.

That’s what I asked for.

No. You simply said a martini.

He volunteered the onion.

You oughta be running our committee.

Eugene Gillrich, on tape,

offering me $50,000 to withdraw the committee’s objections

to his project.

He thought you’d go for that?

I find that pillow talk brings out a man’s generosity

and expectations.

And I have to admit,

it wasn’t the most unpleasant afternoon I’ve ever spent.

You intend to present that at the hearing?

Push comes to shove, yes.

If I turn this over to the Planning Board,

Eugene Gillrich won’t be able to get a permit

to build a doll’s house.

And if they ask you how you got the tape,

you could be hurt as badly as Eugene.

Well, maybe less.

My reputation is already a bit tarnished,

and he’s got a wife.

Jessica, in my divorce,

I got the park avenue apartment, period.

$50,000 is inordinately tempting, but this...

this is more important.

- Hiya, Pete. - Hello, Al.

Well, that day of days.

My social security check.

Right on schedule.

Hey, listen, would you mind giving Mrs. Rhodes her mail?

The vestibule’s all blocked up back there.

No problem, Al.

- Is this all? - That’s it. Have a good one.

Excuse me.

Pete, since you’re on duty,

why don’t you let me take Mrs. Rhodes up her mail?

Oh, be my guest, Mrs. Fletcher.

My knees, I never mind letting someone else walk up those four flights.

Hey, pal, you gotta understand. I can’t lose.

Either this place gets declared a landmark,

and I stay, or it’s torn down and I reopen on the East side.

Okay, look,

I’m sure it’s not gonna come as a big surprise to you

that if Gillrich wins, I win.

And if he loses, you’re dead, I heard. Too bad.

You ever tend bar? We’re gonna need some help around here.

That’s cute.

All right, listen, I have a proposition for you.

You close down the bar for one month while we dig up the basement

to find the bones of Dutch Schultz’ victims for the TV cameras.

I pay you a fat fee as co-host and co-producer of my TV special.

Me and my place, coast to coast.

Right. I’m tellin’ you, the tourists will be lined up from here to Hoboken,

because they saw you and the 65 on my show.

Yeah. Yeah, I love it.

I’m telling you,

you’re gonna parlay beer, burgers and blarney

into a huge pile of green cash.

La Rocca, you grave-robbin’ scuzz,

you get outta my joint now!

Mrs. Rhodes?

My name is Jessica Fletcher.

We haven’t met, but I have your mail here.

There’s two magazines,

but no social security check.

Unless you would prefer that the police deliver it?

Mrs. Fletcher, you caught me.

It was a bit difficult to swallow--

An 87-year-old woman who subscribes to fitness magazines,

and doesn’t get a social security check.

Mrs. Rhodes was a dear, Mrs. Fletcher.

I mean, in the last months of her life,

I went from visiting nurse to live-in.

I even wrote the checks to pay her bills.

And you gave up your apartment?

Well, nothing much to give up.

I’d been rooming with two other girls.

Anyway, Mrs. Rhodes had no family or friends,

so she left what little she had to me.

Four years ago, she passed away.

And you never told the landlord.

Mrs. Fletcher, I kept meaning to.

But the days turned to weeks, and then months,

and then, when I finally started shopping for an apartment,

the prices were through the roof.

So you kept 4B at a low profile

as nurse to a non-existent patient,

and saved yourself a fortune in rent.

Thousands.

I guess, in the back of my mind,

I knew I was breaking the law, but...

I wonder what the penalty is for rent fraud.

- Hop in. - Where to?

Across the street.

See the parking sign?

In three minutes, we’re all illegally parked here,

so I gotta move across the street

where it’s okay to park after 3:00.

You gotta be crazy to keep a car here.

I am shifting from one side to the other every couple of days.

Well, it’s the same on my block.

- It’s like musical chairs. - Yeah, really.

So, meanwhile, I’m taking cabs and buses.

It’s cheaper than gettin’ towed,

or a garage.

- Josie, that’s it! - What’s it?

A missing piece.

Thank you very much.

Hurry. Move your car.

Artie, I’m grateful you’re going out on a limb for me.

- I hope it works. - Out on a limb? Let me put it this way.

If you’re wrong, school crossing guard’s gonna look like a promotion.

Wish us luck, Jessica.

I don’t think you’re gonna need it, Carol.

I prefer it that way. You here on business, Lieutenant?

- Yes, I am. - So are we. Come on, Carol.

Lieutenant, any new developments I should know about?

Something that, um, might affect the outcome?

Hang loose, La Rocca.

You could turn out to be a development yourself.

I love to make guys like that squirm.

Lieutenant, Mrs. Fletcher.

Not to taint the committee’s credibility, Lieutenant,

but Miss Johnson, has she confessed yet?

She hasn’t confessed.

- And Mr. Gillrich, you got a minute? - One.

Okay, a couple of details I need to clean up.

You stated that you were at the 65 last Tuesday night

between 6:00 and 9:30.

We’ve done this. The time is on our bar check.

Lieutenant, you’ve got your killer. What is this about?

Well, it’s about a parking space, Mr. Gillrich.

The evening your brother was killed,

Margaret Johnson and I noticed

that your wife was fortunate enough to find a parking space

almost directly in front of Number 65 West 64th Street,

despite the fact that it was a few minutes after 6:00.

Yeah, when most of the spaces were already long gone.

- What’s wrong with that? - Oh, nothing.

And when your husband mentioned that you had taken a cab home,

the inconsistency slipped by me.

- And everybody else. - Until nurse miles

explained the parking hassle to me.

Mrs. Gillrich, if your car

was parked outside the 65 where I saw it,

why didn’t you drive it home instead of taking a taxi?

What is this about, Lieutenant?

Honey, you know what they’re talking about?

I think it’s called common sense, darling.

We’d both been drinking, so leaving my car and taking a cab home

was the safe, sane thing to do.

Yeah, Gelber, I don’t know what your game is,

or what kind of balloons Mrs. Fletcher here is floating,

but I read it as harassment,

and the commissioner is gonna hear about it

the minute that this hearing is concluded.

Now if you’ll excuse us.

Got it, Lieutenant, just like you said.

Don’t look so disappointed, Henderson.

I warned you we might solve this one.

Mrs. Fletcher and I weren’t all that certain

this proof existed, Mrs. Gillrich.

Proof? Of what?

I have to ask both of you to accompany me downtown.

What the hell are these?

Parking ticket issued to your vehicle,

and the log-in sheet from the impound lot where it was towed

after being ticketed at 9:02 in front of 65 West 64th.

No parking after 9:00 p.m. that side of the street.

Everyone in the 65 heard the bartender warn

that illegally parked cars were about to be towed.

You never told me you brought your car.

But you weren’t there, Mrs. Gillrich.

You had gone back to the Gillrich brothers’ offices to murder Walter.

What?!

I suspect that you took a taxi to your husband’s office.

And since no one saw you leave the 65 bar,

or return, my guess is that you used the side door

just beyond the restrooms, and returned the same way.

And got back too late to hear the bartender’s warning.

What is this "left by a side door", Mrs. Fletcher?

- She was with me all evening. - Not true, Mr. Gillrich.

Part of the night, I saw you alone with Nolan Walsh.

That’s your signature from the impound lot.

You retrieved your car the next day.

Ticket and towing, $140.

Doesn’t pay to keep a car in New York city.

This is insane.

I mean, so my car was towed.

I forgot to move it in time,

and I was embarrassed to admit it to my husband.

The police have the bullet, Mrs. Gillrich.

I’m fairly certain it will prove

to have been fired from your gun.

Lee?

I lost the gun months ago.

Don’t you remember?

I saw it last week in your dressing table.

Paraffin tests will prove that you fired it.

Along with everything else,

I doubt we’ll have any trouble getting a murder one indictment.

Lee, talk to me.

When Margaret got the phone call from Walter...

I could hear her surprise, and pleasure.

He invited her to meet him at the office,

and I just had to find out what they were up to,

and Eugene was busy working the room.

I saw a rear exit sign by the powder room,

and I didn’t want to lose my parking space,

so I took a taxi.

I let myself in with my parking key,

and took the elevator straight up,

bypassing the guard and the lobby sign-in sheet.

I got to the office before Margaret and Walter.

I didn’t realize they had met downstairs

for a drink first.

I was ready to give up waiting when I heard them

coming through the reception area.

I slipped into Eugene’s office.

It was pretty obvious

that Walter was already half convinced

that my husband was destroying old Manhattan,

and Margaret Johnson was taking him the rest of the way.

I heard Walter promising

that he’d convince Eugene to build elsewhere

to spare those decrepit, God-awful brownstones,

and it was making me furious.

I couldn’t believe that Walter could find that woman

sexually attractive, but there it was.

She was making the most of it.

I stayed out of sight until she left.

And then, it was my turn to talk shop with Walter.

For god’s sake, Walter, what’s your job here?

Getting in the way of a dollar?

What is yours, spying?

Listen, damn you,

Eugene has put everything he’s got on the line

for this project. Everything.

And you’re willing to buy a stupid woman’s story--

- Shut up! - No, I won’t.

Not until I’m finished.

Eugene may feel an obligation to carry you, Walter,

but I don’t.

You’ve never been anything but dead weight dragging him down.

Turn around, damn you, I’m not finished.

Fine.

I’ll leave it up to Eugene.

Either he dumps you, or I take a hike.

It’s you or me.

Well, that’s the first good idea you’ve had.

Let Eugene choose between you and me,

and then, perhaps, he’ll come to his senses about you.

Lee, close the door on your way out.

Turn around, Walter, or I’ll kill you.

I’m not kidding!

And then, to make it look as if Walter

was shot by mistake, you wheeled him into your husband’s office.

And I put Eugene’s chair in Walter’s office.

When I got back to the 65, I saw that my car had been towed.

So you said nothing about it,

and took a taxi home to your husband.

Oh, god, Eugene, I’m...

there’s no gun permit on file.

I bought it for her out of state.

I insisted she have it,

for protection.

He wasn’t just my brother.

He was my conscience.

He might’ve talked me into sparing those BrownStones.

And if it had come to choosing between us?

I’m never gonna have to make that decision.

And with the preservation designation,

as well as Eugene Gillrich filing Chapter 11,

and pleading no contest to bribery charges,

the disputed brownstones are here to stay.

Now, to my father and my grandfather.

And to Eugene O’Neill...

Ernest Hemingway...

oh, Mrs. Rhodes.

Don’t forget Dutch Schultz.

And have I got good news for you.

You mean about Margaret being elected

- Head of the committee? - Better. My grandson Josh.

We decided against the Wee School.

Kid’s too smart for them, anyway.

Instead, he’s gonna be in a weekend program

for one-year-olds in central park.

Great. Isn’t it wonderful that the City has such a program?

What city?

Doris decided she and I are gonna take Josh and the kids.