All language subtitles for MrSWr1118

[music playing[

Hey, Willie, baby.

Takin' you for a little trip, all right?

Okay. Got it.

Fair exchange is no robbery.

Only if we don't get caught.

Nah. I'm gonna go down first and check it out.

And then you can drop the bag down to me. Okay?

Okay.

See ya.

Seresino.

Professor Nugent.

Breaking curfew again?

Well, no. Well, see, I was up in my dorm,

and I was kinda gettin' a little hungry and all,

so I was gonna bop on down to Cabot Cove

for about a half an hour just for--

Please. Just save it for tomorrow.

Professor purcell may be more impressed than I am.

Oh, please, Sir. Can't you just, like

No, I can't. Come on, let's go.

We serve Prometheus,

who stole fire from the heavens to serve mankind.

Hail, Prometheus.

Hail, Prometheus!

What is that?

You got it?

Where's the other lowly one?

The creeper busted him.

Due to Mr. Seresino's customary ineptitude, I imagine.

Nugent's reporting him to president purcell.

Are you gonna be able to help him?

The code of Prometheus, Tyler.

The lowly one fulfilled his assignment. We protect our own.

Although Seresino is definitely pushing the envelope.

So, you see, the basic motivations for murder

really haven't changed much since those ancient times.

Power, money, sex, revenge.

But the variations on these themes are endless.

Now, next time we'll discuss wilkie Collins' landmark novel,

The Woman in White.

Well, is there anything I forgot to cover, professor Matthews?

As usual, Jessica, you didn't miss a beat.

And I learned at least as much as my students.

Class, let's give a hearty round of applause to Mrs. Fletcher.

Before you leave, I'd like to call your attention

to a remarkable feat of transformation.

It seems that last night while we all slept,

William Shakespeare morphed

into Elvis Presley.

Now, I'm a big fan of the King of Rock,

but I really revere the bard of Avon.

So if the good genies who worked this magic wouldn't mind,

I'd like to trade back. No questions asked.

Thanks, people.

Mike, what happened?

He put it off till later this afternoon.

He had some urgent meeting with the trustees.

But, uh, my guess is-- How do you spell "expulsion"?

Not to worry, lowly one. He's just messing with your mind.

Mike, you did very well on your essay.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Look, I'm sorry I missed your lecture but--

What's wrong, Mike?

It's nothing a miracle won't cure.

He's been in trouble ever since he became a pledge

to that damn society of Prometheus.

His grades have gone South,

along with his attention span.

That club serves no constructive purpose,

except giving the kids a false sense of belonging.

Well, maybe the new headmaster

will be able to do something about it.

You're certainly handling the stress very well, Harry.

Jessica, one doesn't tap-dance at this institution

without acquiring some acting skills.

Well, in a little more than 24 hours,

the suspense will be over.

You can afford the second thought, you know?

I mean, my dad--

Your dad wants you to be more than just another cabot cove fisherman

like everybody else in your family.

Yeah.

Well, you know how the drill is.

You're either in or you're so far out

that you're just a little speck on the horizon, right?

Yeah. If you're thrown out, where will you be?

Look, honey...

we can take this, all right.

I mean, we're not the first pledges

to be put through the wringer, are we?

And besides, Colin promised us

that the society will completely protect us, didn't he?

Harry? Darling.

Sweetheart, have you heard the news?

Avery Nugent's withdrawn his name

from consideration for headmaster.

I guess Avery figured he really didn't stand a chance.

Too bad you didn't come to the same realization, old man.

It'd make the blow easier to take, don't you think?

All the way around?

I'm sure we can both handle it, Ryerson,

whichever way it falls.

Perhaps you can, Harry.

But I wonder how long she'll hang on

once your prospects fade.

It's not the reason I broke with you and you know it.

Claire told me about how she'd had it with your lying, Jim,

that that's why you left burnside academy.

Is that what she asked you to believe?

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Don't let him get to you, darling.

This was on the computer bulletin board?

It was staring at me when I cranked up my machine this morning.

"An agenda for the future of St. Crispin's academy,

by James Ryerson."

Jessica, look at this.

This is my plan for changes at the school,

the one I showed you. Almost word for word.

Here.

Well, he seems to have added a few items of his own.

He proposes slashing the budget

for what he calls "non-essential courses of study."

Man, the politics around here

make Washington look like a picnic.

Are they always this vicious, Jessica?

Not in my memory, Irv.

I was going to submit this when I go before the board tomorrow.

This was the only hard copy. I had it locked in my desk.

That lock looks as if it had been tampered with.

It's got some fresh scratches on it.

Why, the sneaky son-of-a--

Harry, I'm not so sure it was Ryerson.

A musical question.

Did you ever hear the creeper creeping?

Well, I did. He was hanging around

late last night when I left.

Well, that might explain this, Harry.

Ashes from a cigar in your desk drawer?

Avery Nugent?

But why would he want to help Ryerson become headmaster?

Sun Tzu was a philosopher and a general

who led the armies of China to victory 2,500 years ago.

His strategies are contained in this remarkable book--

The Art of War.

"To succeed, it is necessary to plan secretly,

"to move surreptitiously,

"to foil the enemy's intentions and balk his schemes,

"so that the day may be won

without shedding a drop of blood."

These, according to Sun Tzu,

are the tactics of victory.

Mr. Forbes!

Yes, Sir?

Were we interrupting your beauty rest, Mr. Forbes?

'Cause it seems that the art of war was putting you to sleep.

Not at all, Sir. I was up real late

last night, hitting the books.

Well, some of them may be about to hit you back.

If you don't score well on my next test,

then, just like the name of this course,

you will be history.

You don't think I listen, but I do.

What you read today I agree with a lot

of what that Chinese fellow wrote.

A lot. But not all?

No. For instance, I believe sometimes

that victory does have to be won by bloodshed.

You know...

that is the first interesting thing I've heard you say.

Good. Let me try for another one.

After tomorrow, whether it's you or Harry Matthews

that ends up as the headmaster,

Dr. Purcell is still gonna be your boss.

And he and my grandfather

go back a very long way.

- Really? - Yeah.

Mr. Forbes, if you fail my next exam,

then I'm sure your grandfather will want to know

all about my take on this conversation.

That'll be all, Mr. Forbes.

Naturally, I'm disappointed, sheriff,

but thank you anyway.

Oh, Jessica.

Hey, Mrs. F. How's the annual teaching gig going?

The little monsters driving you up a wall yet?

So far, only to the baseboard, Mort.

I'll let you know as soon as I've got anything, Dr. Purcell.

But like I said, I wouldn't leap to any conclusions.

Thank you.

Jessica, come in, sit down. Thank you.

I'm afraid I only have a minute.

But you indicated you wish to discuss young Seresino.

Well, I might've expected it,

him being from right here in Cabot Cove.

Well, his father and I are very old friends.

Ah, yes, yes. The fisherman.

Expelling Mike would break his heart and his father's.

Well, Mike should have thought of that.

You sound as if you've already reached a decision.

Yes, I have. Now, Jessica,

you're very friendly with the sheriff,

so you must be aware

there's been a rash of thefts on campus,

both petty and not so petty.

But you're saying that Mike is responsible?

I was under the impression

that Mort was still looking into it.

Yes, he is. But my own investigations

lead me to Mr. Seresino.

Jessica, I'm sorry.

Forgive me. I have another appointment.

Will you excuse me?

Myles, I have one request.

Would you hold off for a couple of days?

Give me a chance to try to get through to Mike.

Well, as a favor to you, of course, Jessica.

But only two days.

Thank you, Myles.

- Oh! - What happened?

- You're not expelled? - No!

Just on restriction till further notice.

Which means I have to stay inside my room

except for classes, food, meals and my job. That's it.

- Oh, that's fantastic! - Yeah!

Good news, huh?

- Yeah, it went okay. - Did I tell you?

Now, what do you suppose

this show of interest is really about?

When one of our people is hurting, Tyler,

it concerns me.

You understand that, don't you, Mike?

Careful, Mike. That sounds like a trick question.

No tricks. Just a sincere cry for help.

Ryerson is out to bury me, man.

And if I don't score big on his mid-term,

he's gonna flunk me out, and it's good-bye harvard yard.

Yeah? Well, what's this got to do with me, Colin?

You'll have to make another midnight run.

I've gotta get an advance copy of that exam.

You can't, Mike. Dr. Purcell

Sarah, I can handle this, okay?

Look, Colin, uh...

I really hate to say no to you, but

- Then don't. - But I'm gonna have to.

Find another solution to your problem.

- Hold it, Mike. You owe me. - For what?

Who do you think got you off the hook with purcell?

Of course he's not gonna tell you-- He already did.

See, it was Mrs. Fletcher who saved my butt.

Colin, I've just decided

you can take your society and shove it.

- Oh! - Come on, Sarah.

You're gonna live to regret that, Tyler.

Mike! Seresino!

Yeah. A nickel on yale.

A dime on navy.

And another dime on St. Crispin by 10.

No, I just have a hunch.

Yeah. No, I'm supporting the home team.

Yeah, of course I'm good for it.

Avery? Avery?

Avery!

Avery, I'm talking to you.

- I'm not talking to you! - Yes, you are.

You owe me an explanation.

Why did you steal my material and give it to Ryerson?

I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Matthews.

- Now you let go of me! - Excuse me!

I'm sorry already. I thought we were friends--

All right, all right! Come on, you two.

- What's the problem? - Nothing.

A misunderstanding, that's all.

It was nothing. Look, I've gotta go.

I've got a class in about three minutes.

See you at the social, Harry.

Yeah. Of course.

Mr. Matthews, no games. What was that really about?

Sheriff, damned if I know.

I'm gonna get you for this.

Barbara, you need a refill.

Face it, Harry, good ideas seem to float around

in the ether at the same time.

It's like back in the '40s,

when physicists were learning to split atoms.

It's called synchronicity.

That was. This is theft.

Why don't you take your accusations

to Myles Purcell and the board?

I'm sure they'll be intrigued

to learn the extent of your fantasies.

Look, I'm working.

So am I.. As a guest you should be extra kind to

because if word gets out

who stole that laptop computer from

You did that, all right?

All I did was stand lookout for you, if word gets out

all you were gonna do was chalk some graffiti on the blackboard.

Look Seresino, you run this little errand for me,

and I promise you the laptop computer won't show up

among your belongings with your fingerprints on it.

Remember the plastic gloves

I said I had to wear 'cause I had a rash?

I didn't have a rash, Mike.

Oh, you wouldn't do this to me.

Believe me, Mike, I'd hate myself.

But my grandfather would hate me more if I fail Ryerson's class.

Hey, it's your choice, lowly one.

I don't know, people.

You write one decent song, they don't let you forget it.

Well, I certainly haven't.

Love is like this was one of Frank and my favorites.

All right, all right.

Hope I remember it.

Thanks, Mike.

Excuse me.

- Mike? - Hey, Jessica.

Look, I'll get back to you in a minute.

Uh, Mike. Now. Please.

Listen, I've left several messages for you.

Well, I've been really busy this week.

I'll get back to you tomorrow, okay?

That may be too late.

Sarah tells me that Colin Forbes

is pressuring you again to run another errand for him.

Sarah talks too much.

Listen, Mike, I--

I know how badly you want to succeed here,

to make your father happy. And I don't believe for a minute

that you're responsible for these thefts

that sheriff Metzger is investigating.

But I can't help you if you don't tell me--

Jessica, I've gotta go, okay?

Thanks, really. I'll be okay.

Sorry.

The kid looks like he's got about as much hope as I do.

And cigar ash alone isn't enough to prove

that Ryerson put Nugent up to steal your paper.

I'm afraid not. Maybe I could tie Jim down

and torture him into admitting it.

You really should watch where you're going there, old man.

Leave it alone. I can take care of it.

Can you?

You're not thinking about going along with--

Just leave me alone, please!

All right. What is it?

You know damn well what it is.

It's about you destroying Harry.

Destroying?

Aren't we being a bit melodramatic, Claire?

It's about winning, that's all.

I don't think that's all it is

Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart.

Not that I can fault you for your ego.

You're a very desirable woman,

but we've been over and done with ever since you decided

you needed a father-figure instead of a lover.

You obviously want something,

so I just suggest you get to it.

Jim, what I wanted was for Harry Matthews

to get the headmaster's job

Or not get it on his merits.

But since that's no longer possible

because you stole his paper and his ideas,

I'm asking you to do the decent thing

and withdraw yourself from consideration.

I figured.

Jim, it's been his dream.

It is killing him to lose, especially this way.

Okay. I could do that.

Harry isn't going to last forever.

But there is a price.

No.

Loyalty. I admire the hell out of that, Claire.

I'm not asking you to dump him.

We simply become lovers again.

It's better when it's illicit, don't you think?

God, you really are a pig.

Let go of me, damn it!

The board makes its decision tomorrow.

You have until tomorrow morning to make yours.

Don't say no, baby.

You just sleep on it.

And when you do, promise me

that you'll think about the way we were,

the way we could be.

I don't have to, Jim.

I'll stop by your place about midnight.

Hello, Harry.

Credit card bills for miss Desmond.

Nothing for you, Harry.

Another catalog for Ryerson.

Envelope for Mr. Nugent.

Oh, I didn't know you knew anybody at I.R.S., Avery?

And an envelope from A.S.C.A.P. for yours truly.

Yes. Yet another royalty check for my golden oldie.

Cocktails will be on moi, kiddies.

Would that I could come up with a platinum record

someone would keep paying me for indefinitely.

Amen!

Any news, Harry?

Oh, not a word, Jess.

Harry hasn't been picking up any of his phone calls, Jessica.

Hello?

Yes, he's here. Would you like to speak with him?

Well, I'll tell him. Thank you.

President Purcell's office.

He wants to see you.

- Both of us? - Just Harry.

Good luck, pal.

So you see, many of our best mystery novelists

were actually writing out of their own personal experiences.

How about Jackie Collins?

Well, miss Collins

doesn't actually write mysteries.

But I understand that she was an actress

before she began writing about Hollywood.

I didn't know that.

Well, Colin then by accident,

we have taught the class something.

Attention, faculty and students.

This is president Purcell announcing that,

effective immediately,

the school board has selected a new headmaster.

I'm sure you all join me in congratulating

Mr. James Ryerson.

Oh! Way to go, Ryerson!

Harry...

I tried calling you all night.

I guess these days...

you just can't count on anything working out.

No, you don't understand.

I never went to Jim's.

I couldn't.

Thanks.

Probably would've been better if you had.

At least you'd have been with a winner.

Harry, no.

All I ever wanted was you.

Besides, he'll get his somehow.

Look, this doesn't change anything.

Nonsense. Everything's changed.

Even Myles Purcell voted for him, Claire.

A man I've worked with,

I've played bridge and tennis with

for nearly 20 years. And he

Myles called me into his office

so he could tell me to my face

how he recommended that the board

give the job to Ryerson.

There are other jobs. There are other schools.

Yeah. And a huge demand for aging losers.

Harry, no.

Don't turn your anger against yourself.

Let it out...

towards the man who deserves it.

Let me go with you, Harry. Please.

I don't know that I like what's going on

out at that school lately.

And now these thefts are escalating

beyond just pranks.

I know. I heard.

An expensive laptop computer.

Yeah. Did you manage to have

your little talk with Mike Seresino?

No, and that is as frustrating

as the situation with Harry.

Yeah. I better be goin'.

Isn't that love is like this?

Yes. Irv Tripler's old recording

from some 20 years back.

Hearing him made me dig it out.

Bringing back a few memories.

Whew. I should say.

Sarah? What are you doing here?

Taking a final shot at talking some sense into you.

Yeah. Well, forget it, all right?

You've gotta get the hell out of here.

No. I'm not going unless you do.

Mike, this can ruin your chances

of ever getting into a decent college.

It could ruin your life, for god's sake.

Let Colin do his own dirty work.

He doesn't have to. He's got me.

He's bluffing. He can't blame that computer theft on you

without incriminating himself.

I can't take that chance right now, all right?

If I get him a copy of Ryerson's test,

he gives me back the laptop, I wipe it clean,

I put it back and then I'm safe and through with Colin forever.

Fine. Then I'm helping you.

Looks like they were celebrating Mr. Ryerson's promotion.

Yeah.

They party hearty, don't they?

Mike!

It's Mr. Ryerson. What should we do?

For starters, we should get the hell out of here.

Come on.

Come on. We need that over here now.

Can't I just go to my desk and get my lesson plans?

It's right there on top. I won't touch anything else.

Sorry, Mr. Tripler, no one's allowed into the crime scene

until the forensic team signs off.

So you discovered the body at 6:30 when you came to work.

Do classes start that early?

I had trouble sleeping.

The door was locked.

No, I have a key. We all do.

When I came in, my first thought

was that the place had been burglarized,

and then I saw Mr. Ryerson.

Excuse me, sheriff. It's Mrs. Fletcher.

Harry Matthews just showed up on her doorstep.

Gotcha.

Uh, I was...

the blue raven inn.

I think they closed around midnight.

I guess I got in my car somehow.

I remember thinking I shouldn't be driving.

Anyway, I...

must've pulled off the side of the road

and fallen asleep or passed out.

And that's where I woke up this morning out on route 17.

Ryerson was killed between midnight and 3 a.m.

well, I'm afraid that's the best I can do

in the alibi department.

How was he killed?

He was struck on the side of the head

by a heavy pointed object that broke his skull.

We haven't been able to find the weapon yet.

Was there a struggle?

Enough to knock over some things in his office.

I seem to have skinned my knuckles somewhere.

You have any better suspects than me, Mort?

Not so far, Harry.

Looks like a lot of Ryerson's files are missing.

Yes. Including a blue file

that Mr. Ryerson tried to conceal from me yesterday

when I walked past him.

Mort, you said that the office door lock

had been picked.

Yeah. Oh, yeah.

That's good. This lock, uh--

This lock was forced, not picked.

Meaning the intruder was either in a hurry or--

Or there was more than one intruder.

Now, the struggle happened here.

Mr. Ryerson was hit or pushed,

and when he fell back onto this desk,

everything went on the floor.

Co-mingling with the debris from Ryerson's party.

We bagged everything for the lab.

Well, not quite.

Looks like it's from some kind of a mechanical device.

Well, in a way, you're right.

It's from a little, tiny bicycle.

Say again, Mrs. F?

So why'd you ask us to come here for?

Because a deal's a deal, exactly as I promised.

I think all your prints are off.

But you're welcome to rub some more if you want.

Yeah. But I never brought you the exam.

I'm not asking any questions.

I hear a bunch of Ryerson's files are missing,

including his grade book and his mid-term.

So I guess everyone's passing history this year, huh?

Now, wait a second.

You don't think that I killed Mr. Ryerson.

Stuff happens, seresino.

I'll be accepted at Harvard way before they sort all this out.

Yeah. Well, suppose that I tell you

I never went near the building last night.

Tyler here, have a couple of clones

running around the campus at night.

But whatever you say,

you guys were acting like true members

of the society last night.

We protect our own.

Even you, Tyler.

It's a pity you've chosen to reject us.

Come on, Mike. Let's get out of here.

Yeah. Get this back to where it belongs.

By the way, Colin, what were you doing out there last night?

The reason we asked you to stop by, Sarah,

is that I recovered something of yours

and I wanted to return it to you.

It's this tiny wheel.

I believe it's off your charm bracelet.

Yes. From this little, tiny bicycle.

The sheriff and I found it.

1in the faculty office.

You were there last night.

I was gonna steal Mr. Ryerson's mid-term exam.

But when I got inside, Mr. Ryerson was dead.

I got scared, so I ran.

And I was too scared to tell anyone I was there.

I'm so sorry.

And who was with you, Sarah?

No one.

It was me.

Nice try, Sarah.

Thanks. But, uh...

I'm the one you guys need to talk to.

It's me who broke into the faculty office last night.

For Colin Forbes?

Yeah, he was forcing me to.

Miss Tyler is still an accomplice, okay?

Now, tell me what the two of you saw

when you went inside, and tell me exactly.

We didn't turn on the lights, but we had a flashlight.

And we could see right away the place was pretty messed up

from Mr. Ryerson's party.

There was stuff all over the floor.

Um, a phone... papers, trash,

a wastepaper basket had been kicked over.

Yeah. There were test papers, um...

pencils, Mr. Tripler's framed platinum record.

That desk blotter.

And Mr. Ryerson.

Did you happen to notice

if Mr. Ryerson's file drawer was open?

I don't think so.

Not when we were in there, at least. No.

Well, I want to thank you for coming by, Mike.

Actually, I was just about to go looking for you.

We lifted a thumbprint off the office door lock

that the d.m.v. identified as yours.

I guess I'm not as smart as I thought I was.

This will get me kicked out of st. Crispin's, isn't it?

Well, it's interesting.

I just got a call from St. Crispin's.

Seems that a laptop computer that they'd reported stolen

was returned, anonymously.

Besides, so many people going in and out of that office

that it'd be kinda hard to pinpoint

exactly when you touched the lock.

It should never have gone anywhere else.

The job should be yours.

I hope you will accept mine

and the board's apology.

Myles, Jim Ryerson victimized both of us.

Hmm, and apparently a lot of other people.

Anyway, the board has unanimously authorized me

to offer you the post of headmaster.

I very much hope you'll accept, Harry.

Of course.

Come in.

I hate to barge in on you, gentlemen,

but I thought you'd like to know, Dr. Purcell--

We just found a bunch of Mr. Ryerson's missing files,

several of them with blood smears on them.

Where'd you find them?

In your locker, Harry.

I wish I didn't have to do this.

But I'm gonna have to hold you for the murder of Jim Ryerson.

Look, Mrs. F, I don't like it adding up this way

any more than you do.

But motive-- both Harry and Ryerson

wanted the same job. Ryerson wins it.

By trickery and deceit.

Opportunity. Harry's got less than no alibi.

Witnesses down at the blue raven

heard him threatening to kill Ryerson.

And he leaves the bar early enough to commit the murder.

And how about those knuckles? Skinned like they'd been in a fight.

And now we find missing items from Ryerson's files

hidden in Harry's locker with blood on it.

Look, Harry could've skinned his knuckles almost anywhere.

Okay, but let's say that Harry walks into the office,

Ryerson is there.

One ugly word leads to another.

Excuse me, Mort, but why is that folder blue?

Blue? Oh, it's state police.

A case we're working on together.

We do our folders in Brown, they do blue. Why?

That's the kind of file that Mr. Ryerson

was trying to conceal the other day,

only his was worn and much older.

Okay.

Let's assume for a minute

that Harry never went back to the faculty office

and that Mike and Sarah are telling the truth.

That would mean a third party put the bloody files

in Harry's locker to implicate him.

Perhaps. Mike and Sarah enter the office,

start to look for Ryerson's exam,

and discover the body. In all the chaos.

And then they run out of there as fast as they can.

They said Colin Forbes saw them afterwards.

Sarah-- "afterwards, he said

we looked like a couple of scared rabbits."

that's it, Mrs. f.

Colin Forbes had to be in that room

because he killed Ryerson.

And he heard Mike picking the lock,

so he had to hide right there in the office

until they left.

Judge Phillips? This is sheriff Metzger.

I need a search warrant in a hurry.

This looks like the lost and found of everything

that's disappeared from around here in the past six months.

Sheriff, everyone in the society uses this safe.

Including Mr. Ryerson's exam.

I don't know how it got there.

Sure you don't.

Wanna bet your fingerprints aren't on here?

Okay.

I broke into the faculty office, because I didn't trust

that chicken-hearted Seresino to go through with it.

Before I could get in there, I see Mike and Sarah Tyler

come running out empty-handed,

and I figured I had no choice.

So I pried open the file cabinet

and I looked through his files.

And when I finally saw Ryerson's body,

I dropped the folders 'cause I was so damn surprised.

My first thought was that I'd better take the folders with me

because my fingerprints were all over them.

And to make sure nothing pointed at you,

you wiped your prints clean

and planted the folders in Harry Matthews' locker.

It was unlocked and...

only you held onto this exam just in case, huh?

But this was your insurance.

I, um--

I was 16, drunk,

and where I shouldn't have been,

behind the wheel of a car.

Next thing I knew,

the car was wrapped around a tree,

and a 12-year-old-girl--

She never walked again.

My family moved in with their wealth and influence.

And the whole thing was hushed up, forgotten.

Until Jim Ryerson did some digging

and came up with this old state police report.

So he used the report to blackmail you?

Jessica...

I've devoted my whole career

trying to atone for that mistake.

All the good I may have done,

all the young minds I've tried to shape,

would have ended in a blink if Ryerson had dragged out

that old horror story.

God, how I detested that man.

Enough to vote for him.

But not enough to kill him.

One destroyed life is my limit.

I'm returning this file to the state police.

I'm sure they'll put it back in storage

like the ancient history that it is.

Thank you.

Thank you for coming by, doctor.

- Jessica. - Myles.

You still haven't found the murder weapon, Mort?

Nope. But I figure a few hours,

and Colin Forbes will fill in the blanks.

Anyway, I'd better get going.

Andy insisted I let him play bad cop this time.

And I'm not sure how long he can maintain it

without feeling sorry for the prisoner.

Ah, here. Here it is. Mike's statement.

"we just stood there looking at the mess.

"the stuff on the floor included test papers, pencils, stapler,

"that framed record." uh-huh.

"a desk blotter..."

so?

That framed phonograph record

is hanging right there on the wall.

Then why would Mike and Sarah say they saw it on the floor?

Maybe because they did.

I wonder where it was when Colin Forbes was in the office.

- Tenths. - Tenths?

I know who kille Jim Ryerson.

And I've been looking right at it.

Jessica.

Oh, hello, Irv.

How was boys' choir practice?

How did you know where I was?

The writing on the wall.

That's a hell of a title for a song.

"the writing on the wall."

well, it's yours. I won't even ask to share in the royalties.

Even if you write it.

Excuse me, but why do I get the feeling

that you're talking in code?

Well, let me try to be clear.

It wasn't Avery Nugent who stole Harry's

"agenda for the future" material

and gave it to Jim Ryerson, it was you.

You who planted the cigar ashes.

Never heard that tune before,

but if you hum a few bars, maybe I could play it.

Why would I do that? Harry's my friend.

He's my best friend here at St. Crispin.

And you betrayed him

because Jim Ryerson was blackmailing you.

Me? About what?

My life's an open book.

I've been teaching music for 14 years.

I'm an established composer,

I've got a platinum record, a grammy award and--

"commemorating the sale of a million copies

of love is like this.

"words and music by Irv Tripler."

quite an accomplishment.

Thank you.

You know, when Mike Seresino and Sarah Tyler

broke in and discovered the body,

there was clutter from Mr. Ryerson's struggle with his killer.

Mike and Sarah remembered that this was on the floor.

And yet the next morning, when the sheriff got here,

- it was back on the wall. - So?

So I believe that the killer was still here

when Mike and Sarah came in.

He had just murdered Mr. Ryerson,

but he had to wait for them,

and then for Colin Forbes to leave

so that he could wipe this clean and put it back up

all right! Give me that!

Hold it right there, Mr. Tripler!

Or whatever your name is.

My name? What the hell are you talking about?

The fact that you're an imposter.

The real Irv Tripler died 16 years ago.

You took his name and kept collecting the royalties

on his hit song. That is criminal fraud.

That's what Mr. Ryerson had on you,

and that's why you killed him.

All that may be true, but it doesn't make me the killer.

No, it doesn't.

Except that an eyewitness has come forward,

one who saw you coming out of this office

a minute or two after Colin left.

When you played love is like this

at the reception the other night,

it prompted me to dig out this old recording

and listen to it.

You know, after 20 years, I'd forgotten how distinctive

the real Irving Tripler's piano style was.

Irv Tripler had enormous hands,

enabling him to play tenths-- An octave plus two notes.

Like from "c" to "e".

No way those paws of yours could do that, pal.

I knew I shouldn't have let them

talk me into playing.

Irv Tripler was such a gentle man.

He used to come and sit at the piano bar

where I played in Cincinnati,

and we became friends. He had no family,

and when he got sick, I took care of him.

And his money.

Not the way you think.

I forged his signature on royalty checks

to pay for his medical bills.

And you never reported his death

to the music composers society.

No.

And then, except for the royalty checks,

things weren't going so great for me,

so I started teaching music.

As Irv Tripler.

They never would've hired Joey Mallo.

I love teaching, Jessica.

I use that royalty money on my students.

I take them to concerts. I buy them records and tapes,

enriched their lives, sort of.

And Irv would've liked that.

And somehow Ryerson found out.

Well, when Jim was a kid, he saw Irv Tripler perform.

At first, he just wanted me to steal Harry's material,

and I hated doing that.

But it was the price of his silence.

And then, after he became headmaster,

Ryerson said he was gonna cut way back

on the music department.

But why? I did what you wanted.

Because your department is expendable, that's why.

And because it's politically correct these days.

You're through around here.

I couldn't believe what was happening.

Something in me snapped.

No!

So who's your eyewitness?

There wasn't any.

For a while, I didn't think I'd ever be here again.

So the new headmaster is going to keep teaching classes?

He's going to be a very unusual headmaster.

- Hi, professor Matthews. - Hi.

Did you see your welcome-home present?

Why, no. What--

Well, he's back!