All language subtitles for MrSWr1109

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

This is where they make those pretend T.V. shows.

The spontaneous questions

they'll be asking us

have been pre-scripted.

And that is an infomercial.

They started peddling books along with ginsu knives.

Join the Hartley murder of the month club.

Bring me a gin and tonic. Cup of coffee.

Whoa, whoa. Matt?

I'll just order us some dinner.

You haven't been home before 3:00.

You're out of your mind. I feel physically threatened.

Aah!

He may have suffered a fatal reaction.

Well, wish me luck, old buddy.

Hey, stewart, the law's on your side.

Man, I hope you're right. It'd be a nice time

to see the good guys win for a change.

Come on, people! Help me!

Anybody seen my script?

How many times do I have to tell you the same thing?

First of all, get those trees out of here!

We are going for the talk show feel,

not the Forest primeval.

Sara!

Sara.

I managed to break free for dinner.

Tom, I don't think so.

I told you, it's in work.

No, look, I'm-- I'm sorry.

I know. I know.

There just hasn't been--

You know, a good time to tell her.

Okay. Come on, Tom, not here.

Tom, uh...

your wife wants to see you, in her office.

Miss Ogilvie...

uh, have you got an extra script?

I seem to have left mine someplace.

Ah, got it.

All right, has Mr. Hollywood finally shown up?

Yes. He's in make-up.

He needs make-up to rehearse?

He says the air on the red-eye fades his suntan.

She's claiming mental anguish? Oh, please!

Let me tell you something about mental anguish, bubbie.

Between the four or five really nasty phone calls every day,

and the threats by fax and e-mail,

I haven't been able to meditate in weeks.

Hell, I'm so-- I'm so wired up,

I doubt I could even get into the lotus position.

Five minutes, okay?

Sid, she's having me followed, for god's sake.

I feel physically threatened!

Yeah. Okay, Sid. You're right, you're right.

You're always right. I should've signed the prenup.

Okay. You happy now?

Good! So fix it. That's what I pay you for.

Sid? Sid!

That's right! Only four easy payments

of 19.95 each,

and the veggie-nator will change your life,

letting you show your love for your family

with fresh, vitamin-packed, mineral-filled drinks.

Call now. Operators are standing by...

And that, in a nutshell, is an infomercial.

One of those beauties you see listed on the TV page

as "paid programming".

Figures, doesn't it, Jessica?

It was only a matter of time

before they started peddling books

along with ginsu knives and teeth whitener.

Listen, if that replaces

those long cross-country promotional tours,

you won't hear any argument from me.

Oh, ours is gonna be a really soft-sell,

emphasizing all the elements that make mystery novels so popular and why,

and, of course, featuring the authors themselves.

Even if they aren't writing anymore?

Well, that sounds pretty terrific to me.

Want some coffee? It's fresh?

Well, that sounds pretty terrific to me, too.

You must be very pleased, Larry.

Oh, massively insecure

describes it better, Jessica.

If this thing doesn't play,

the Buck stops right here.

And I'm beginning to think

the odds are stacked against me.

Mr. Hartley figured if we included reissues

of mat Matthews' old stuff

in the first murder of the month offering,

well, it might give him...

impetus to write?

I hope it does.

You know, when mat was at the top of his game,

his "old stuff" was right there in a class

with Raymond Chandler and dashiell hammett.

You've got that right, Jessica.

I practically teethed on his stuff.

That's why I was totally floored when Mr. Hartley asked me

to be a part of this with you and mat.

Hey, I read homicide at the alexandria lighthouse.

You have nothing to be ashamed of.

Thanks. I just hope I have a second book in me.

I remember feeling that way after my first.

Really? You've got six more wonders of the world

to have murders take place in.

You're onto a dynamite series if ever I saw one.

Thanks.

Not only that, you haven't been home

before 3 a.m. in a week and a half.

And do you think if I'd been there all those evenings

instead of in the editing room,

it would make any difference in our relationship?

I gotta go out to stage floor, okay?

Just a minute.

Perhaps you care to explain this $450 charge

on your credit card last Thursday?

The Grand Plaza hotel?

Oh, man. Irv Hayes--

You know, Mr. Veggie-nator--

He wanted to spend an extra day in town,

see a musical, show his wife a good time, okay?

Oh, hi! There you are.

Listen, I just want to remind you people

that my Tailor gets his own card on the end credits.

And a "Wade Foster's wardrobe by Lorenzo of Beverly Hills."

Yes, Mr. Foster, I did notice that on your contract,

but, uh, this isn't a T.V. show or a movie.

Hartley publishing has authorized us to pay you $50,000

for your appearance on their infomercial...

flat. No frills, no fringes.

I'm afraid you'll have to take it up with them.

Really?

It's so annoying.

Oh, yeah, just one other thing.

I believe my agent talked to you about beefing up security.

Yes, he did. We've taken care of it.

Oh, splendid, splendid. 'Cause you know,

there's so many stargazers and nutcases out there.

It's just unbelievable.

You're gonna earn your money on this one.

Really.

One bad T.V. movie and a busted pilot in ten years.

Wouldn't you think it would bring on at least a hint of humility?

Tom? Yeah?

You can tell your little friend Sara for me--

We're gonna not pay for any more overtime.

Your next book?

Oh. No, no.

It just came in the post from some woman in lackawanna.

Funny. Lackawanna always makes me think of railroads.

Hmm.

And rotten winters in lackawanna pines.

Oh, I don't usually read unsolicited manuscripts,

but, uh, well, the cover letter sort of grabbed me,

and then I read the first page,

and it's really very impressive.

I hope it holds up.

Give me a mineral water and ice, would you?

And make sure it's sodium-free, huh?

Get it yourself.

Ha! You don't know who I am, do you?

Haven't the foggiest, pal,

but you do have a definite flair for mind-reading.

And you're a drunk slob.

Whoa, whoa! Mat!

Mr. Foster, I think they're ready for us on the stage.

Mrs. Fletcher!

Well, detective Henderson.

Oh, and it's lieutenant fogel, isn't it?

Harry, to you, Mrs. Fletcher.

It's been a long time.

I have to tell you,

you're the last person in the world

I expect to find in this den of commerce.

Are you here on business?

Uh, sort of. Yeah.

Lieutenant Gelber's up in the catskills with his wife.

The captain assigned me to lieutenant fogel.

Temporarily.

I usually work alone.

I remember. Something to do

with being an only child.

Yeah.

Well, Henderson,

this is where they make those pretend t.v. shows

you're so hooked on.

He buys this junk like it's going out of style.

All they gotta do is tell him how wonderful it's gonna make his life.

Henderson, come here a second.

Oh, lieutenant come on, show her.

The veggie-nator.

I gave blood last night

for a vitamin-packed garden salad.

- Now can we drop it? - Sure.

Actually, I'm here doing a favor

for a friend of mine in buffalo P.D.

they had a homicide up there.

Young fellow by the name of stewart Murphy.

Age 26, found strangled in an alley a couple of nights ago.

It could've been a mugging, his wallet was missing.

But there are no leads.

Except in the victim's apartment.

They found "telesales inc., manhattan"

scribbled on a notebook.

Does Murphy ring a bell with you?

Can't say it does.

Well, there's no reason it should.

He was a single guy, worked in a warehouse.

According to his Landlady,

he wrote poetry and stories at night.

Didn't you once say that's about half the people in the United States?

Sometimes it seems that way.

All Hartley publishing people, on stage b, please.

That means me. I'll call you

if anything leaps to mind.

Oh, please do. Good-bye.

Hey, lieutenant.

Take a look at that.

That's very funny, Henderson.

And that will be the end of the first segment.

Now, after you've finished interviewing the authors,

you'll invite questions from the audience.

Audience? Whoa! Hold it, hold it. Time out.

See, guys, I'm a film actor.

I only work on closed sets.

Somebody give me a break.

Wade, it isn't a real audience.

They're extras we've hired. Oh.

I believe the "spontaneous" questions they'll be asking us

have actually been pre-scripted.

Yes. That's right.

Okay, five minutes, everybody.

Back on the set in five.

We need to hang a light.

That is not what I need.

Uh, mat-- Mr. Matthews--

I don't think that's a great idea.

Yeah? Look, kid, judging from this circus

you're running here, I don't think you're the guy

to tell me what's great and what isn't.

I just hope you've laid in a little gin and tonic.

I'm the guy who suggested him to Mr. Hartley.

What am I gonna do, Jess?

He could bring this whole thing down on my head.

Then I suggest you get him to go easy on the sauce,

and fast.

Mr. Foster, I am such a fan of yours.

Oh, how nice for you.

Sweetheart, will you be an angel

and run my cue cards with me?

Sure.

Wait a minute. Sara, you wanna get that?

Hey! I need her.

Telesales. Sound stage.

It's for you.

Hi. I'm a friend of Jason Bayer saxon.

You remember that name?

Yeah. Well, we've gotta meet.

You pick the place. But it's gotta be soon,

and you gotta talk to me, or--

Hello? Hello?

Okay, you want trouble, you got it.

Hey, Joellen, let me tell you something, sweetheart.

No matter how hot you get,

sooner or later, the public will desert you.

You know my "Nick Hanna" series?

Of course.

Printed in six different languages.

Waiter! Bring me a gin and tonic.

Over nine million copies sold.

And if it weren't for our dear old Ted Hartley's

questionable wisdom up until this week,

all out of print.

- Really? Isn't that unbelievable? - Waiter.

Cup of coffee.

I've always loved your books. Oh, wow!

It really is the three of you together.

I'm sorry. Arnold Wynn.

You won't believe this, but I've read

everything you guys have ever written.

Except for you, miss Waller.

I guess you could call me

sort of a murder mystery groupie.

Or a masochist. Sit down, kid.

Thanks.

You probably don't remember me, Mr. Matthews,

but I was in your...

mystery-writing class up in buffalo.

You gotta be kidding. I don't recall your face.

But then there's not very much about buffalo I do recall.

Well, it was a great class, and you were real encouraging.

I love this guy!

No, no, no. Two gin and tonics.

- I'll buy you a drink. - Oh, no.

No, thanks. Thank you.

Um, Mrs. Fletcher,

I managed to find this up by union square.

It's your first effort. Would you mind signing it?

I'd be happy to.

Mr. Matthews, I've got you in paperback.

But in english.

I just read a great review of your book, miss Waller.

It sounds like a real winner.

But then, 24.95 is a bit steep for me right now.

Hey, you could get it

and two best-selling mysteries by world-famous authors

for only one dollar

when you join the Hartley murder of the month club.

How's my spiel?

Hi, Fran, good to see you again.

Hey. Good to be working.

Arnold Wynn.

Um, is this your first time with us?

Right there.

Stage b.

Name, please?

Stage b.

Name, please?

Look, Sara...

Gina handles the books, okay?

But I'll see that you get paid,

even if it comes out of my own pocket.

Tom, this isn't about the money.

This is about how stupid I have been.

Will you stop? Look, I care about you,

about us. I really do. You've gotta believe that.

Who the hell are you?

I got lost.

Where does the audience sit?

Stage b.

Right. Sorry.

Come on, come on.

Tom, I can't.

Oh, for god sakes! Sara--

And, mat, back when they decided to do a major movie

based on your hard-boiled detective character, Nick Hanna,

you have no idea how badly I wanted that part.

Well

oh, that's me, that's me.

"Wade, you would've made a great Nick Hanna."

"Thank you, mat. Jessica, how--"

"thank you, mat. Jessica, how did the killer

"commit the murder in your exciting

Hartley murder of the month club selection?"

I'm afraid if I answer that,

we may lose a reason to join the club.

Touche.

Well, I wonder if our studio audience has any questions

for our distinguished authors. Yes, ma'am?

Miss Waller, I hear that hollywood just made you a big offer

for homicide at the alexandria lighthouse.

Where'd you come up with such a cool idea?

I didn't write that question. Shh..

Well, um...

it didn't come overnight, I can tell you that.

There were about five years of rejection slips,

and teachers who told me, "give it up, girl."

Speaking of which,

I had a lot of time to teach,

'cause I sure as hell wasn't writing,

except I.O.U.'s to bartenders.

Okay, okay. Stop tape.

We're running into overtime, anyway.

Excuse the audience extras.

We'll start up again tomorrow. Thank you.

I'm sorry, pal. I won't be here tomorrow.

Or the next day.

Mr. Matthews, you have a contract.

Never hold up in court, kid.

It referred to me as an author.

What else could go wrong?

Try everything.

Hello, mat.

The kid call you?

You're wasting your time.

In the taxi coming over here

you know how a writer's mind works

all sorts of plots and scenarios

were running through my head.

I can't say I recall that phenomenon,

but I'll take your word for it.

I figured that trying to make you feel guilty wouldn't work.

Well, Larry already had a shot at that.

Then I thought of flattery.

Nah. I'd see right through it.

I know. Ha!

And I knew that I couldn't ask you to come back

and finish the infomercial for my sake

and still keep a straight face.

Even if you could, I wouldn't buy it.

And you're not about to tell me

I am a self-pitying, washed-up has-been,

because even if it's true,

judgmental is not your style.

No. No, it isn't.

Mat, I'm sure you remember

that when you're really getting into a book,

the characters talk to you.

I mean, they tell you if you write something

that they wouldn't do.

Yeah.

Well, I realize that you're going

to keep on doing what you're doing,

no matter how badly I or anyone else

would like to rewrite you.

That's it? Mm-hmm.

You know, Jess, you disappoint me.

I thought you'd be more inventive than that.

Well, to quote something

you taught me a long time ago,

"it's the best I can do at the moment."

good night, mat. I hope things work out for you.

Sid, all I know is that my soon-to-be-ex

has found out I'm in town and working,

and she's been sending me messages,

lots and lots of messages.

Next thing I know, she's gonna be coming down here,

demanding half my fee.

Sid, the point is, how do I bury this?

Would you hold on for a second, Sid? What?

I know you. Didn't you used to be on T.V.,

like, a long time ago?

Oh, for god's sake.

Don't tell me! What was it?

Uh... philip manners, P.I.

anyone? Help me.

Is there a problem, Mr. Foster?

Yeah! Do I have to wear nose glasses

in order to get some privacy around here?

I just wanted an autograph.

I'd like this guy out of here. Come on.

Hey! I'm an extra, damn it.

Just on my way to the studio.

Sorry about that.

Sid, you still there?

I don't believe this.

Gina, there is no way you can Ace me out of this company.

Wrong. Apparently, you've forgotten,

but, out of gratitude for my putting up the money,

it was you who insisted on making me

the majority stockholder and C.E.O.

well, darling,

as of the close of business tomorrow,

you're unemployed, along with Sara--

Your little helper of the moment--

Unless you agree to a brand-new set of rules

which are outlined in appendix a.

You're out of your mind.

You're probably right.

I still love you.

Anyway, think about it, Tom, huh?

I hear it's very cold out there.

That's lunch, people.

One half-hour. Try the cafeteria.

Make sure the audience is back from lunch in a half an hour.

My apologies for the makeshift lunch, folks,

but we're in a real time-crunch.

Thank you for bearing with us.

How's the manuscript holding up, Jessica?

I've only gotten into it a little bit further,

but I must say, so far, I think it's terrific.

It'll fall apart by page 50.

People like this, they get fixated on one or two scenes

they can see so vividly they can almost taste 'em,

then they don't know what to do with the rest of the book.

Sadly, that is very often the case.

Turkey's yours, Mrs. Fletcher. Thank you.

- Larry's ham and cheese. - Yes.

I'm tuna.

Mr. Matthews...

here you go, Gina.

Thank you.

Sara, this looks like roast beef.

Oh, great. This is supposed to be tuna,

it's salami and cheese. I believe this is yours, Mr. Matthews.

Well, I hope so.

Ahh! This is mine.

Oh, I seem to have somebody's invitation.

Does anybody know a Jason Bayer saxon?

I mean, did anybody order roast beef?

Well, I did. This must be your Turkey.

Well, perhaps this is yours, too.

I don't think so.

Anybody seen my ham and cheese? Sara?

Well, thank you.

You want what? Uh, cash.

See, my contract calls for me to be paid

after tonight's taping.

And I would be forever grateful

if you could possibly pay me in cash.

$50,000? Wade!

Wade, we keep records, file w-4 forms,

so if you're looking to, no no, no!

It's my checking accounts. See, they're kind of tied up.

If it's a woman, you're asking the wrong person.

No, it's not a woman.

It's definitely not a woman. I can assure you of that.

Mm-hmm. It's my manager, actually.

I'll see what I can do. Thanks.

Once again, that's 1-800-555-clue.

And on behalf of all our Hartley authors,

this is Wade Foster wishing you all mysterious reading.

Okay. Stop tape.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a wrap.

Audience, you've been wonderful. You can all go home.

Wade, I'm gonna need you and the primary cast

at 9 a.m. tomorrow for pickups.

Congratulations, Larry. Looks like you found yourself a new career.

Thanks. What about you?

Uh... severance pay.

Wanna help me spend it?

Jessica! Oh, thank you.

Success to crime.

Funny you should say that.

Hello, Jessica. Hello.

Mr. Matthews, I got a couple of questions for you.

Homicide, up in buffalo.

Turns out that the victim-- Mr. stewart Murphy--

Was a student of yours a couple of years ago.

A writing class that you taught

at East buffalo community college. Is that right?

Murphy. Murphy. I have absolutely no recollection of him.

In fact, I was telling Jessica

I have very little recollection of buffalo.

It's true, lieutenant.

Okay. Maybe you could remember something

a little more recent like uh,

your whereabouts the night before last,

when Mr. Murphy was killed.

I can help you there.

A nice little place on 39th and seventh avenue.

Ordonio's. Great linguine.

We'll check it out.

Gee, Mrs. Fletcher,

this book club of yours looks pretty interesting.

Bite your tongue, will you, Henderson?

They ought to make an infomercial pushing a cure

for people who order stuff from infomercials.

You're a prince, my man.

You tell Gina "thank you" for me.

Yeah. Listen, Wade,

I expect to be heading out your way pretty shortly,

you know, to the coast, and I was hoping that you'd, uh,

introduce me around, you know, to the players.

Uh-huh. Really? Well, you call me, by all means, okay?

Yeah.

You?

I've been reading up about you

and your ex-wife in the tabloids, Mr. Foster.

She sounds like big-time bad news.

How long have you been in here?

One of the stories told about all the fights you've had

over that co-op you owned on riverside drive.

Said she wouldn't get out.

Okay. What do you want?

I guess she'd really like to know

you were paid in cash.

There, you little creep.

Ha!

You're looking to hide $50,000,

and I'm supposed to keep it a secret for a lousy 200?

I can't believe how well the infomercial turned out.

I owe it all to you, Jessica.

I was very happy to be part of it.

Me, too. I thought it was so exciting.

And if you tell her, I'll sell you for parts!

Good heavens!

Arnold? Are you all right?

I guess so.

For god's sake, Wade!

He attacked me!

Come on.

I've got a first aid Kit in the office.

Hey, are we still on for dinner?

Sure. I'll just go get my purse.

Who's there?

It's Larry Shields.

And Sara. We're just heading out, Ernie.

All right. Good night.

Aah!

It's Arnold Wynn. Oh, my god.

I'd say it was around 10:00.

Your shift started at 8 p.m.,

found the body about two hours later? Yeah.

Okay. Thank you. Sure.

Well, Jessica, from all accounts,

the decedent Arnold Wynn

had no business on the premises last night.

It could be he was robbing the place,

but the thing of it is, except for the nosebleed

and a little bruise, there was no sign

of the kind of violence that would indicate murder.

Sara and Larry and the guard found the body around 10:00?

Right, right.

But, you know, there is another possibility.

A boxer, right?

Gets knocked down in round three,

but he gets up, finishes the fight,

goes home, and dies from the blow later that night.

You said that what's-his-name-- The actor--

Punched this guy about 6 p.m.?

Wade Foster. Mm-hmm.

Jessica? Jessica?

Excuse me, lieutenant.

I'm afraid this has thrown us completely off-schedule.

Would it be possible for you to come in for your pickups tomorrow?

Well, I think I can arrange my time. Yes.

Oh, Jessica, there you are.

Would you tell them, please?

You saw me leave with Joellen, didn't you?

When was it, about 6:15?

Yes. That's quite right. There, see?

He states that he and a Joellen Waller

took a cab uptown to his hotel.

Yeah. She'll tell you. You can talk to the cabby,

you can talk to the doorman.

What about the rest of the night?

Uh... lieutenant...

I'd really rather you discussed that with ms. Waller.

All right. Well, this is pretty academic, anyway.

There was no sign of foul play here.

Unless, of course, the coroner decides that the guy died

by a delayed reaction of you punching him out.

At which point, the worst we're looking at

is probably manslaughter.

Manslaughter? Lieutenant, I barely hit him.

Harry, Arnold didn't appear groggy.

I mean, that blow wasn't that severe.

Oh. That's okay with me.

Only do me a favor and let's play it safe.

Don't leave town till I say "okay".

Okay?

Better be soon.

"Better be soon."

I guess they don't call 'em actors for nothing.

Lieutenant, I don't know how important this is,

but this extras list--

It turns out Mr. Wynn wasn't in the union.

Well, then, no one knows how he got the job?

Mm-mm. From his wallet, we turned up a home address in buffalo.

Buffalo? I got his number from the phone company.

A machine answered. Buffalo P.D. is checking him out for us.

I suggested they check into the possibility

of Mr. Wynn's being connected to the late stewart Murphy.

Well, that's good work, Henderson.

Thank you, Sir.

Lieutenant, there's something I'd like you to see.

For what it's worth, Arnold mentioned

that he'd taken writing classes up there,

including one with mat Matthews.

So both this guy and the murder victim in buffalo

studied with Matthews, and you didn't tell me?

Well, until Arnold turned up dead,

it would've just seemed like a coincidence.

Harry, this note--

This came with my sandwich by mistake.

Now, I'm not a handwriting expert,

but notice the "a" and the "r".

They seem to match the "a" and the "r"

in Arnold's name added to the extras list.

Yeah. Bag it and tag it, will you, Henderson?

You never know. So...

we've got I.d.

that says the corpse was named Arnold Wynn.

Only he writes a note

referring to himself as Jason Bayer saxon.

Now, what do you suppose that's all about?

Well, if it was Arnold who added his name to this roster

I mean, that may explain how he got the job.

Or it could've been someone else entirely

that wrote Arnold's name and the note.

Uh, detective Henderson,

may I see that list that you read earlier,

the items you found on Mr. Wynn's person?

Sure thing.

Here we go. Thanks.

Wallet with $16, backpack with two books,

a notebook, and some writing course pamphlets.

That's it. No, no.

There was an odd-shaped key.

And there was something else. What..

Your handcuffs. A bracelet.

An id bracelet, that's what it was.

No id bracelet.

Anyway, Jessica--

Jessica?

And money. There were a couple of bills.

Hundreds, I think they were.

They apparently fell out of Arnold's pocket

when he was struck by Wade Foster.

I remember he picked them up. You didn't find them?

No, ma'am. They'll probably turn up at his hotel

or wherever he was staying. We still don't know where that was.

Jessica, what happened?

Why don't you tell 'em, Jessica.

And, by the way, good luck on your infomercial.

Let's just hope Henderson never gets a chance to see it.

Hey! What do you think you're doing--

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm sorry, I thought everyone was gone.

I was just leaving, Ernie.

I'm sorry.

I must be a little jumpy.

Finding dead people

isn't exactly my idea of a good time.

Well, at least it wasn't a murder.

I wouldn't be too sure that it wasn't.

What's that?

A bracelet belonging

to the late Arnold Wynn. So?

That is a medic alert bracelet.

And it says that he was allergic to quinine.

As in tonic water. So why are you telling me this?

Listen, Mrs. Fletcher, lieutenant,

I gotta get this stuff to the post office by 5:00.

Hold it, will you, Henderson?

Arnold's nosebleed--

He may have suffered a fatal reaction.

Funny you should say that, Jessica.

It's right here in the M.E.'s report.

Blood they found on the victim's nose

didn't come from an earlier punch,

but from an internal hemorrhage. That's right.

He had this kind of rare pathologic reaction

to the ingestion of quinine.

Listen, I really gotta get to the post office.

Will you hold it, Henderson? According to this,

it destroyed the blood platelets.

Okay, so what do you figure, Jessica,

he was allergic to quinine and killed himself?

A suicide by quinine water?

Harry, that doesn't make sense.

She's right.

With all due respect.

Okay, maybe he took it by accident.

At the lunch,

Arnold winced at the prospect of a gin and tonic,

and he had the sense to wear this bracelet.

No, he was much too careful about it

to have made that kind of a mistake.

You know, I believe that he was murdered.

Oh, boy!

What is it, detective?

That's the stuff he buys from the infomercials.

And I'm getting him to take most of it back in 30 days

so he can get a refund.

I'm trying to save him from himself.

Well, the 30 days on this batch just elapsed,

along with my money.

Okay, Henderson, business.

Got it, lieutenant. I'll get them

to secure the telesales offices

until we can get a forensics team down there.

I hope they can still find something.

I don't get it, Jess.

You figure this kid took a bus

all the way down from buffalo

to meet someone on this infomercial,

and then that someone murders him?

It wasn't necessarily the same person.

Hard to figure. No obvious motive.

Unless you count his getting slugged by Steve stunning.

And then there was that murder up in buffalo.

And both victims apparently in my class.

And there's, um Jason Bayer saxon--

Whoever he is. Sounds literary.

Oh, speaking of literature,

that over-the-transom manuscript you've been reading?

Fall apart yet?

Well, no...

Jessica.

I was hoping you'd still be here.

Harry, detective Henderson.

For starters, why don't you put a sock in it

before you get in even deeper?

What the hell are you talking about?

The murder of Arnold Wynn. Harry?

We found a rap sheet on Mr. Matthews, here.

Buffalo-- assault in a bar

against the very same Arnold Wynn--

No saint himself, incidentally.

Wynn was charged with extortion, attempted extortion.

Several arrests, one conviction, suspended sentence.

Not a nice person.

Lieutenant, I had nothing against Arnold.

And like I said, that whole year in buffalo...

was a blur.

Was last night a blur, too?

Say, between 8:00-ish and midnight?

Mat, he's right. Perhaps you shouldn't say any more.

I've got nothing to hide, Jessica.

I took a long walk up fifth avenue,

past the metropolitan,

and I sat for a long time

on a bench opposite the guggenheim.

Alone, no doubt.

Well, you see, Mr. Matthews,

we found a drinking glass at telesales,

and it had traces of quinine in it,

and two sets of fingerprints--

Mr. Wynn's and yours.

Now, that's not your dead-bang smoking gun,

but it's a hell of a start.

I have a car waiting outside.

Has anyone seen our Emcee?

I would like to get these pickup shots sometime this month.

Oh, god!

Jessica, even if we can shoot around mat,

if it turns out he's guilty,

the Hartley book of the month club

is gonna be dead before it takes its first breath,

and Mr. Hartley will be out a quarter of a million dollars.

Larry, it's not an absolute certainty

that Mr. Matthews killed Arnold Wynn.

No, it isn't. Morning, everybody!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got caught in an ex-wife jam.

It was ugly.

Telesales. Sure.

Jessica, it's lieutenant fogel.

Oh, thank you. Excuse me.

Thanks.

Yes, Harry?

Jessica, you wanted a progress report.

Here goes. First off,

Arnold Wynn's Landlady up in buffalo

gave us an address in yonkers,

just North of new York city.

Mr. Wynn's aunt.

Arnold was staying with his aunt in yonkers?

That's correct. But that isn't where we found

those missing hundred-dollar bills.

They turned up in mat Matthews' apartment

on East 79th street.

You're sure those are the same bills?

Oh, they're in the same number sequence

Gina Powell withdrew from the bank to pay Wade Foster.

The same ones Foster admitted he laid on arnold

when the kid shook him down.

And that odd-shaped key? What about that?

Oh, there's no key. But I'm afraid it looks like

we've got enough to charge your friend Matthews.

I wish I had better news for you, Jessica.

Keep me posted. Sure, I'll keep you posted.

Are you sure about this one, lieutenant?

I mean, your teeth look kind of yellow to me.

All it takes is about 200 hours

with these little trays in your mouth...

okay, everybody, listen up.

I just spoke to Ted Hartley.

He regrets to say he's Pulling the plug.

Damn! I knew it.

Bummer.

I mean, he's right. There's no reason

to throw good money after bad.

Well, I'm out of here, people.

If I hurry, I can catch an earlier flight to l.a.

ciao, everybody. Bye, Wade.

Hey, Tom, is there any way

we can piece together an infomercial

with what we've got, cut mat out of it?

Not really. We'd come up short on time.

He's pretty much locked into it,

the way you wrote the script.

It's a question of coverage and--

The script.

The question.

Tom, would you excuse us for a moment?

Yeah, sure.

Larry, we need to take a look at a tape

of what they've edited so far,

and quickly.

Miss Waller...

I hear that hollywood just made you a big offer

for homicide at the alexandria lighthouse.

Where'd you come up with such a cool idea?

That's it, Larry. Stop it right there.

Now, you said that you didn't write that question yourself?

No, it wasn't in the script,

but we decided to leave it in.

Then I think I know who murdered Arnold.

The key I saw--

It wasn't in his backpack when they found him.

Now, that has to be the key.

Quickly, Larry, see if you can track down

that girl who asked the question.

What city? Yes.

The area code for buffalo, please.

One moment.

I hope we're not too late.

Bus number 10 from manhattan,

arriving yonkers, is delayed five minutes.

Express service for saratoga springs

now boarding at gate 2.

Found what you're looking for, Joellen?

What you murdered Arnold Wynn for?

Uh, I don't know what you mean.

That key--You took it from his backpack

after you poisoned him.

But until you heard me mention yonkers,

you didn't know which bus station lockers to try.

Oh, Jessica, you're mistaken. I--

May I?

It's addressed to Jason Bayer saxon

from stewart Murphy.

And both have the same address.

My guess is, it's an original manuscript

written by stewart Murphy under the pen name

of Jason Bayer saxon.

So stewart Murphy protected his manuscript

by sending it to himself registered mail,

and then he kept it sealed.

And I suspect it's what Arnold Wynn killed him for.

It became the basis of your novel--

The one stewart Murphy realized you stole from him.

So Arnold killed stewart, took the manuscript

and tried to blackmail you.

But I was with Wade Foster

when Arnold was killed.

Wrong. A little while ago,

he admitted that your capacity for wine

was far greater than his.

And he was pretty embarrassed

to have to confess that he fell asleep

while you were with him in his hotel suite.

This is crazy. Arnold Wynn--

Well, I met him at the restaurant, Jessica, when I was with you.

No, Joellen. You met him and stewart Murphy

when the three of you took mat's fiction writing class

at the East buffalo community college.

Their registrar confirmed it.

So, basically, miss Waller, we have enough to convict you

three, maybe even four times.

It didn't Dawn on me till a little while ago

that you were familiar with the buffalo area.

I recalled what you'd said when we started the infomercial.

It just came in the post from some woman in lackawanna.

Funny. Lackawanna always makes me think of railroads.

And rotten winters in lackawanna pines.

Lackawanna is only a few miles from buffalo.

Then I remembered that one of the audience questions

that was addressed to you

had deviated from the script.

The tape showed that the young woman who asked it

was seated next to Arnold Wynn.

It turns out that Arnold Wynn gave her the question,

probably to needle you, throw you off balance.

As he intended when he came up to us in the restaurant.

That's where you saw the locker key,

when he dumped his belongings on the table.

And the note that showed up in Jessica's sandwich--

That was meant for you.

In mat's class,

stewart Murphy gave me his story to read.

He could really write.

I photocopied it and stuck it in a drawer.

And after endless rejection slips on my stuff,

I got desperate. On an impulse,

I changed the title and signed my name to it

and sent it off to Hartley publishing.

And bingo, you had a hit on your hands.

Arnold told me he was contacting me on stewart's behalf.

I agreed to buy stewart's original manuscript for $30,000

and met him at telesales,

but he showed up without it.

He said he needed it for insurance.

Well, that's when I decided he had to die.

I remembered his allergy to quinine.

Back in buffalo, Arnold had told me

the lethal effect even simple tonic water could have on him.

So, I suggested a drink to seal our partnership.

He wanted whiskey and Ginger ale,

and I slipped in quinine water.

Here's to a long and mutually-beneficial arrangement.

I wiped my fingerprints off the bottle of quinine water

and off my glass and followed him out.

I knew it was only a matter of time until the quinine took effect.

I took back my money from the little slime,

but I still had to find the manuscript.

I found the $200 from Wade and the locker key,

and figured he had hidden the original

of stewart Murphy's book.

I wanted to take the medic alert bracelet

so no one would know how he died,

and then I heard the guard coming down the hall.

I had to get away.

And the glass Arnold drank out of

happened to have mat's fingerprints on it.

When I heard about that, I--

I talked mat's super into letting me into his apartment,

and I planted the hundred-dollar bills.

I tried that damn key in every airline,

railroad and bus terminal in town!

If you'd known he'd gotten off the bus in yonkers,

you might have gotten away with it.

And now, with my promotion to head of marketing,

two people can live off what I make.

Thanks again for lunch.

Good luck.

And, Jess... thanks for this.

You have only yourself to thank for that, mat.

By the way, I was--

Well, I was wondering if you ever got through that manuscript

from the lady from lackawanna?

Oh, I did. You certainly called it.

Yeah.

It was very derivative. Well, that figures.

Derivative of vintage mat Matthews,

but with a maturity and freshness

that just took my breath away from page one

clear through to the very end.

Yeah. Well, I--

What did you say?

I'm saying that only one person

could've written that book.

Mat Matthews himself.

Yeah. Well, I figured if--

If you knew that was my stuff, you might--

Well, you might shine me on.

But then I forgot.

That's not your style, either.