Original subtitles

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

There’s a book I’m reading.

The writer must’ve had something to do with `my kidnapping.

Excuse me for saying so, Ms. Garman,

but we’ve been through this before.

You would think, after all the years of therapy,

that this was behind us.

I’ve read several newspaper reports of

abductions that were similar.

But, Jessica, this isn’t fantasy.

I’m not the first writer who needed a score

and bent the truth.

I’m not happy that you lied to me.

- That’s fraud. - Oh, and that’s embezzlement.

Maybe she just blew the ransom money.

Or maybe she just didn’t get such a big slice of the pie.

That doesn’t scare me anymore.

Hey, the way I figure it,

I’m getting shortchanged big time.

I don’t wanna beg for what I’m entitled to.

You wouldn’t have any of this without me.

Look, Matheson, it’s your choice.

Pay me now, or I’ll get paid for it later by the tabloids.

Great.

Then the whole world gets to know "Nora Delano, kidnapper."

That doesn’t scare me anymore.

But you’ve got a lot to lose.

The way I figure,

a quarter of that million dollar advance you’re supposed to get,

that’s fair.

I’ll get back to you.

Better make it soon, Mr. Big Thinker.

And here, on page 85, you have the detective slip

an extra clip of bullets into his automatic.

But on 190, he draws a revolver on the killer.

Oh, right. You know, that is a carryover, actually,

from another draft.

But that was a good catch, Erin.

All of your notes have been very helpful.

I don’t mind saying,

I feel a bit uncomfortable giving you notes.

Listen, your fast advance

from research to junior editor only confirms my faith in you.

Thank you. I guess I should count my blessings.

I could be giving notes to our new wonder boy.

Dirk Matheson?

I hear he can be quite a handful.

These numbers that you are parading so proudly

are not an offer, they are an insult.

They’re top figures for foreign advances.

Dirk, well, even Grisham and Turow

don’t get more for England and Germany and...

The figures are quite good, actually, Dirk,

when you consider you haven’t had a book in the stalls

in, what, 12 years?

So when will I see some money? Hmm? This week?

That’s a little fast.

How long does it take to cut a check, huh?

Why don’t you leave the petty details

to Laura and myself, huh?

And I’ll see you back at your hotel.

Look, Laura, I...

I didn’t mean to give you a hard time, it’s just that I...

Oh, I know. I know you just want to be paid fairly for writing

perhaps the most notable novel of the year.

Yes. Exactly.

You were right.

The man is an 800-pound gorilla.

I thought you handled the situation beautifully.

Which is another reason why I’d like you to join my agency.

Oh! Charles, I really...

Well, I haven’t had the time to think through your kind offer.

But a good editor doesn’t necessarily

make a good literary agent.

And as I told you, I’m really quite happy at Hartley.

Oh, but vastly unappreciated.

I mean, someone of your talents should be

a senior vice-president at the very least.

Erin.

I know the Dirk Matheson book isn’t your project,

but I’d appreciate a fresh eye before I sign off.

- Oh, I’ll be glad to. - Okay.

It’s a thriller, isn’t it?

It’s an absolute roller coaster ride about a kidnapping.

Well, I’ll read it tonight.

Good.

- Erin Garman. - Oh, hi, mom.

Please tell me that you bought that apartment on 68th street.

I decided it was too expensive.

Honey, that is exactly why your grandfather

left you that trust fund.

Just say the word and I’ll have the money transferred

into your account.

Actually, mom, I was just about to call you.

I have to bail on your dinner invitation.

- I have to do notes on a book. - Oh, that’s fine.

I’ll just hop out to the Hamptons

with your darling step-dad

and check on the progress on that new club.

But now don’t you forget to eat dinner entirely.

I know, mom, and I’ll eat all my peas and carrots.

Okay. Bye-bye.

Everything all right with the little princess?

- Uh-huh. - Look.

Another pool and sauna? And you’ve enlarged the health bar?

We are already way over budget!

Terry, if we have learned anything,

it is that our clientele love to be pampered.

And if it takes another 200-300 thou to do it right...

Mike, I’ve borrowed all I can.

Sweetheart, with the added revenues

I’ve projected from the new club,

we’ll be able to totally repay Erin’s trust fund in 22 months.

Oh, and by then she’ll be what, 25? Then what?

I know, I know.

I could get prosecuted.

Oh, yeah, right! Erin’s gonna send her own mother to jail.

Hey, guys, you wanted to see me?

I think you two have something to discuss.

I’m gonna look at these in the car.

- Little problem with the wife? - With you.

You’ve been clocking some personal trainer hours

with the clients.

Hours you haven’t logged yet.

Oh, yeah, I’m a little behind on my paperwork.

Hey, wait a minute,

you don’t think I’m trying to skim the club, do you?

I’d just like everything neat and clear.

Me, too. How’re things going with that new facility?

Should I start packing my suitcases?

Not yet.

In fact, I don’t want you to count on that for sure.

We’re interviewing some MBAs with management experience.

I heard you were.

Come on, Mike, what do guys like that know about our business?

Look, Sonny, nothing’s definite.

We’re just weighing all our options.

Sure. Just don’t forget about your pal.

"Jennifer was an innocent",

unaware on that Sunny afternoon.

She played a child’s game

and thought a child’s blissful thoughts,

never dreaming that

her life was about to be changed forever.

Dark forces were closing in on Jennifer.

They moved covertly, but relentlessly,

invading the sanctity of the playground

in the form of a dark sedan rolling down the street

like a predatory beast seeking its prey.

Nadine’s mission was a simple one.

To violate a child’s trust in the goodness of strangers.

Nadine felt frightened at what she was about to do,

but she covered it up with a smile

"and little Jennifer smiled back."

Erin. Hi!

I’m a friend from your mom’s work.

Come on, sweetie.

- Okay. - That’s it. Here we go now.

"Every time the kidnapper glanced over at the kid,

she felt angry.

’Look at her, playing her stupid little games.’

It was now three days since they had kidnapped the girl

and the ransom still had not been paid.

"As Nadine waited and waited for the phone that never rang,

she began to blame and then hate the child.

It felt like Jennifer

was the cause of all these problems.

And every time Nadine offered her food,

"little Jennifer appeared weaker and more forlorn."

I expect your dish to be empty when I come back.

You understand?

So what’ve we got, Rogers?

We got Jane Doe. Watch, purse, ring missing.

Looks like your basic waterfront mugging.

Corelli.

Yeah, patch her through.

Yes, Ms. Garman. What can I do for you?

There’s a book I’m reading.

The writer, I swear, he must’ve had something to do with my kidnapping.

Wait a minute, slow down.

You say somebody wrote a book about your case?

- It’s a novel, but... - A novel.

Excuse me for saying so, Ms. Garman,

but we’ve been through this before.

No. This time, it’s different.

No. I’m sorry. I can’t help you right now.

You’ll have to call me later. All right?

Did you find anything?

Yeah. A slip of paper in her pocket,

phone number on it, no name.

- You trace it yet? - Uh-huh.

It’s a hotel. It’s East side. Posh. The Margate Plaza.

Check it out.

There’s 834 rooms, lieutenant.

Rogers, when was the last time

you heard me say this was gonna be easy?

This Erin Garman really gets to you, huh?

It’s my son.

Little fellow still got the croup?

No. Forget the croup.

It’s his career I’m worried about.

Are you certain, Erin?

I mean, I have read several newspaper reports

of abductions that were similar to what happened to you.

Dirk Matheson’s book has specific details,

nuances that only someone who was there could know.

It’s amazing, Jessica.

Erin’s been citing dozens of details like that, I...

Oh, wow! Staff meeting in 20 minutes.

I miss this one, I’m dead. Jessica?

You go ahead, Drew.

Thank you. I’ll call you when I’m through.

Just one of the joys of working for the city.

Erin, we have to go to the police

with this new information.

I tried.

I called this detective who used to work on the case,

lieutenant Phil Corelli.

But he said that he can’t help me.

Look, I know in the past,

I’ve been like the little girl who cried wolf.

But, Jessica, this isn’t fantasy.

No, I don’t wanna forward a sample to your assistant.

Listen, his work is already hanging in the office

of a very important person down at the NYPD.

Yes, 4:00 this afternoon will be fine.

We look forward to the tour.

Sorry about that.

I’m trying to pick the right art school for my son, Bobby.

Oh! I thought he was only five.

Oh, yeah. But he’s quite talented.

He’s got the gift.

Oh, yes! That’s a wonderful dog.

It’s a horse, Jessica.

Oh, of course, it’s a horse.

Now, Ms. Garman, we pulled your file,

but to tell you the truth, I know it almost by heart.

In the past, you were convinced

your school bus driver was involved in your kidnapping,

and then, one of your librarians.

Those were years ago. This is different.

All these people were greatly inconvenienced,

not to mention the embarrassment to you and your mother.

Phil, I’ve only skimmed through the manuscript so far,

but Mr. Matheson’s book

certainly seems to describe Erin’s case

in the kind of detail that only an insider would know.

That’s right. Things that were never made public.

For instance...

Well, like it or not, Ms. Garman,

the statute of limitations

ran out on your kidnapping four years ago.

So even if this Matheson or anybody else

walked in here and confessed, I couldn’t lift a finger.

Erin quite understands that, Phil.

I just thought that perhaps with your help,

it might be possible to genuinely close the case

for Erin and her family.

Rogers, what’re we standing around for?

Lab photos on that Jane Doe mugging at the docks.

That woman!

That’s one of my kidnappers.

That’s it! Look, Ms. Garman,

I sympathize with what you went through.

- Phil! - What?

This is the police artist sketch we made 11 years ago.

From my description.

And this is the same person.

So I just wanted to try the idea on you for size, hmm?

Well, I don’t know exactly what to say.

Dirk, of course, we’re interested in pursuing

a long-time relationship with you, but...

shouldn’t I be having this conversation with your agent?

Well, I mean, Charles, you know, represents me on Blindfold.

But that, you know, that doesn’t mean that we’re married forever.

- But he’s an excellent agent. - Mmm-hmm.

If you’re asking me for an opinion.

I am interested in your opinion on everything.

You poor kid.

I’m scared to even close my eyes, Sonny.

It’s like I’m back then.

If this writer is the kidnapper, or knows who he is,

the police will find out, won’t they?

They didn’t exactly do a bang-up job the first time.

Look, tell mom I couldn’t wait.

Thanks for listening.

Oh, sweetheart!

The minute we heard, we rushed back.

Are you all right?

Mmm-hmm. I’m a little better.

The woman who kidnapped me and kept me locked up,

her name was Nora Delano.

What about that writer? The novelist.

Has anyone spoken to him? What does he have to say?

I don’t know, but he must’ve been involved.

I mean, in his book,

there’s this mysterious man who’s behind it all.

The thing is, the police, they can’t do anything anymore.

Well, then, sweetie,

despite the fact that I would dearly love to know

what became of the three-million-dollar ransom we paid,

I think we’re finally at the end of this.

Do you know what you need?

A nice trip to the Bahamas for you and Drew, our treat.

Mother, I don’t need a vacation.

Well, honey, you don’t look well.

You would think, after all the years of therapy,

that this was behind us.

Look, I’ll be fine.

I have a job, I have responsibilities.

I have to go.

Sweetheart, why don’t you stay at our place tonight?

I could make up your old room.

No, thanks, mom. I’ve got too many things to do.

Evening.

Drew Finley?

Finally tracked you down.

Detective Rogers, New York city Police Department.

I just need to ask you a couple questions if you have a moment.

A moment’s about all I have.

I just need to confirm a certain individual’s whereabouts

the night before last between 10:00 and 2:00 in the morning.

That certain individual already called

to say that she told you where she was.

Honey. Hi.

Detective Rogers.

Ms. Garman.

Like Erin said, she and I were at the House of Blues

on 7th avenue,

with a bunch of our friends, any of whom can confirm that.

Thank you, Mr. Finley. Ms. Garman.

I got us a table at that sushi joint down the block.

Not tonight, okay?

Come on, Erin. Let’s celebrate.

You finally made a believer of that Corelli character.

Wrong! You heard.

All he cares about is if I killed Nora Delano.

After all these years, I’m so close to the truth.

The police, they’re not gonna lift a finger.

- What are you talking about? - Matheson!

Erin, wait! We can stay in if you want.

I just don’t want you getting like...

Like? Last night?

I’m just really tired.

I need to be alone tonight.

I’ll call you in the morning.

Right.

Yes? What is it?

Do you want something?

Yes.

Don’t you recognize me?

Um...

Are you from Hartley publishing?

Kidnapped you?

What the hell are you talking about, lady?

I have never met you before in my life.

Your book, The Other Side of the Blindfold.

It’s not fiction. You were there!

You were Nora Delano’s partner.

The one that she kept talking to on the telephone.

Now, you tell me...

No, you don’t want to do that, Ms. Garman.

I told you the police were gonna handle this.

It’s not loaded.

What’d you think you were gonna accomplish with an unloaded gun?

I thought I could frighten him into an admission.

Well, you might’ve scared him to death.

Take her out to the car and meet me there.

- Let’s go. - You can’t let him get away with this.

We’re gonna handle it. Go.

Lieutenant Phil Corelli, NYPD.

We have to have a little chat, Mr. Matheson,

about a lot of coincidences.

One, we found this hotel’s telephone number

on Nora Delano’s body.

Two, you’re registered here.

Three, you’ve written a book

about what appears to be Ms. Garman’s kidnapping,

and Nora Delano is a key figure in it.

Look.

I met her in a saloon in Tucson, two years ago.

She told me her story.

I paid her for it. Hadn’t seen her since.

Hadn’t seen her?

She turned up in New York a couple of days ago,

got in touch with me,

demanded that we have a meeting, as if she owned me.

This was night before last?

At the docks.

At the docks. Odd place to meet, hmm?

Hey, look, it wasn’t my call.

She tried to squeeze me in exchange for not revealing

that she was the source of my book.

So you killed her.

Yeah. With my thoughts.

Look, I swear that I left this woman alive.

In fact, I decided I was gonna give her the money.

The whole quarter of a million bucks.

It’s worth that much to you to pretend you made up the story?

All right, look, chalk it up to ego.

Look, I used to be an award-winning fiction writer,

and that’s what Hartley Publishing expects from me

for their million bucks, a work of fiction.

Those kinda numbers, what they add up to,

is about a motive and a half.

Yeah. So, what are you gonna do, arrest me?

Not yet. No. Don’t leave town.

You wouldn’t happen to know who the other kidnapper was, do you?

No, I wouldn’t.

Mrs. Fletcher, that was so sweet of you to notify us.

I can’t imagine what would’ve happened

if that gun of mine had been loaded.

I have a feeling that Erin preferred it that way.

Oh, my! I’m glad I don’t live downstairs.

That is why there’s only parking under us. Excuse me.

Here’s the manuscript of Dirk Matheson’s book

that you asked for.

I hope you won’t find it as painful as Erin did.

Terry, Dirk Matheson’s book said that Nora Delano’s accomplice

knew enough to sabotage the mother’s car.

Now, according to the police report of the actual kidnapping,

your car was in the shop because of your brakes having given out.

If I hadn’t had to get my car into the shop that day,

Erin never would’ve been waiting in that playground after school.

I remember, the police looked into it,

but they said there was no evidence of sabotage.

Ah.

That Delano woman, she really was one of the kidnappers.

Listen, Terry, did Mike show you the brochure I gave him

on the new super treadmill?

It’d be perfect for the new club.

No. I’ll talk to him about it later.

Okay.

I’m sorry about that.

His days here are numbered, and that number just got smaller.

Mrs. Fletcher, are there any other clues in Matheson’s book

as to the identity of the woman’s accomplice?

Well, only that he also knew that

you could come up with a three-million-dollar ransom.

Well, my father’s wealth was common knowledge.

The police questioned everyone we knew.

Well, I understand from lieutenant Corelli

that they’re subpoenaing all the tapes and notes

that Dirk Matheson made with Nora Delano.

Well, do you think it’s really possible

that Dirk Matheson was the other kidnapper?

It is. But he was a successful writer back then,

and even if he did it, I mean,

it’s somewhat bizarre that he wrote a book about it.

So, what does Dirk say?

He’s not answering my calls, or else he’s ignoring them.

Come on, Laura, what’s going on?

We put a hold on his book, along with the advance.

For how long?

Until we sort out whether or not it’s a work of fiction.

Ted Hartley does not like to be embarrassed by his authors.

Well, that makes two of us.

I suppose the same hold for the three-book deal

you were dangling?

Yes, but, I think that you should discuss that with Dirk.

Why should I discuss it? I’ll bloody well kill him.

I hoped that you’d still be at home, resting.

I got tired of resting.

"Dirk Matheson." What is this?

Jessica suggested that an internet search

might turn up something interesting

about where he’s been in the last decade.

And?

And you can see. Just some minor news accounts

of some bar fights and some drunk-driving arrests in Arizona.

Erin, stop!

Are we ever gonna be able to put this thing to rest?

Hey, is there anything I can do?

So we had no choice

but to turn over copies of your original outline

and manuscript to lieutenant Corelli.

He’s just fishing.

Don’t worry, I will not be his catch of the day.

And why the long face?

I’m not happy that you lied to me.

Oh, come on.

I’m not the first writer who needed a score

and bent the truth.

Okay, I’m sorry.

And I will square it with Ted Hartley.

But your people should be thrilled.

They can promote the hell out of this book.

It’ll go through the roof!

And you’ll still be covered by the statute of limitations.

Laura...

I did not kidnap that girl.

What? There’s something else?

The fact that you’re trying to cheat your agent.

Oh! This isn’t my day, is it?

All right. He’s back in for his pound of flesh. There.

Laura...

the reason I want to have

a long-term relationship with Hartley Publishing

is because of you.

- What? - Well, I was just thinking.

If you’d said that to me a few days ago,

we’d probably be having this conversation in your bed.

Well, I guess I got lucky.

I was re-reading part of your manuscript this morning.

Well, I suppose I should be flattered, Mrs. Fletcher.

You know, I was particularly taken by your description

of the place where the child was held captive.

You wrote, "Hidden among the many West village studios,

there was a second-floor loft,

where little Jennifer was praying that the ransom would be paid."

Now, was the West village locale your invention?

Well, Nora didn’t nail it for me.

It sounded like that part of town,

so, that’s how I wrote it.

So we can’t be certain just how accurate you were.

Look, I am not one of those authors

who desperately contrive

to keep reader interest with artificial plot manipulations.

Mr. Matheson,

I’m not here to trade insults or compare literary styles.

What are you here for?

Would you be willing to let me listen to your taped interviews

- with Nora Delano? - Nice try, lady.

But the answer’s still no.

Sonny, I wanted you to hear it directly from me.

That’s final?

This guy we hired to manage the Hamptons operation

is a Wharton School MBA. We just couldn’t pass him by.

The head trainer slot’s still open.

Thanks, Mike. Been there, done that.

I gotta start making my own plans.

No hard feelings?

With you, pal?

Mr. Matheson, if you weren’t involved,

then why didn’t you say who the other kidnapper was?

Because Nora never told me. Don’t you think I asked her?

We sat in that little bar in Tucson,

Nora three-quarters bagged,

yakking into my tape recorder for hours.

Oh, am I beat. I almost wish that

I’d walked out on her when she started babbling.

That way no one would be on my case.

Forgive me if I don’t shed any tears for your suffering

while you profit off Erin’s and mine.

Right.

Now that’s a picture, isn’t it?

It’s lovely.

You think that’ll impress your friend?

You know, a recommendation from a museum curator

would go a long way to nailing a school for Bobby.

Well, I’ll show her the portfolio and we’ll see.

Phil, Dirk Matheson claims that he paid Nora Delano

practically nothing for her story,

and you say that the last address you had for her

was a trailer park, when she was working as a waitress.

Well, maybe she just blew the ransom money.

Or maybe she just didn’t get such a big slice of the pie.

I mean, supposing she was just hired help.

Well, in Matheson’s book, the Nora character boasts

that she masterminded the kidnapping.

Well, that was her version.

But, I mean, babysitting Erin

when she was in captivity was the most she seemed to do.

Excuse me.

Corelli.

Yeah. Whoa!

Yeah. No, no, no, no. I’ll meet you there.

All right. Thanks, Rogers.

What do you know?

Seven years ago, Matheson went on a spending binge.

Between the IRS, an ex-wife, a big house, cars,

he ran through two and a half million more

than he grossed from his last books.

It’s time to have another talk with this turkey.

Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear what he has to say.

Yeah. Come along.

Mr. Math...

Jessica, I just came in and found the body.

You know this guy?

He’s Drew Finley. Erin Garman’s fiancé.

Avenging boyfriend.

We better get an assistant DA over here right away.

Read him his rights.

Phil, there’s something here that you should see.

It’s a note from Dirk Matheson.

He admits to being Erin’s other kidnapper,

and also Nora Delano’s killer.

- What? - There’s more.

"I fear that I will be exposed and arrested very shortly.

I cannot face the prospect of public humiliation,

so I have decided to end the pain and take my own life."

Erin’s been so torn up,

so I came here to get Matheson to tell me the truth.

Well, after he lied to the police,

Mrs. Fletcher, everybody else,

how were you gonna get him to confess?

I was gonna talk to him man-to-man.

Look, I did not kill him!

Well, we’ll see. Okay.

Lieutenant, one cylinder fired.

Serial number filed off the gun.

See what the lab can come up with.

Okay.

Jessica, when you’ve been a cop as long as I have,

the thing is, you get to know when people are lying.

Drew Finley’s lying.

Maybe, but that doesn’t necessarily mean

that he was Mr. Matheson’s killer.

No, but the gunpowder residue test on his hands should do the job.

Yeah. But what about the suicide note?

Oh, well, I can go either way on that.

If Finley comes up clean, then it’s like I figured before.

Matheson did it all.

Felt us closing in, killed himself, case closed.

Except for one thing. Where are the tapes?

Well, Matheson probably destroyed them.

Why?

If his suicide note was genuine, he had nothing to hide.

This doesn’t make any sense, Phil.

Yeah.

Jessica, Drew Finley’s gunpowder residue test came back negative.

But Matheson’s was positive,

confirming that he did shoot himself.

Plus, ballistics matched the bullet from his gun

with the one that killed Nora Delano.

And what about those missing tapes?

Well, Jessica, that may be one of those little

mysteries of life that we never figure out.

Anyway, closes two cases.

So, did you hear from your friend at the art museum?

You know, her letter of recommendation

could really put us over the top on this.

Oh, not yet, Phil. But as soon as I hear...

I’ll talk to you later.

I knew Drew couldn’t have done it.

Jessica?

Those audio tapes.

If Dirk Matheson was your other kidnapper,

why did he need those tapes?

To refresh his memory?

Or maybe to get Nora’s point of view.

Or perhaps to get his hands on the story in the first place.

And the real accomplice in the kidnapping

would be afraid that the tapes would point the finger at him.

Are you saying that he wasn’t Nora Delano’s partner?

He had to be!

Help me here, Erin.

The loft where you were held captive.

I believe it was in the West village.

They kept me blindfolded going to and from it.

The windows, they were kept covered.

In your original statement to the police,

you mentioned bells and the smell of fish.

Think carefully, Erin.

Can you recall any other details?

The bells...

ding-ding, ding-ding.

Like the warning signal of a truck backing up?

I don’t know.

I think I’ve got an idea.

Do you have Drew’s number at Building and Safety?

Mmm-hmm.

Thank you.

Laura! We have to talk.

Charles, I don’t have the time.

I want you to know that my offer is still open.

Now why would I change my mind?

Dirk Matheson is no longer part of the equation.

I assumed that part of your turndown

was because of your dislike for Dirk.

Me? You’re the one that he was trying to cheat.

But I’ve heard rumors that it wasn’t a suicide.

Laura, listen, when would be a good time

to talk about reinstating his book with Ted Hartley?

Charles, you think you can sell it to Ted, you be my guest.

And lots of luck.

But I don’t want anything to do with it, or you.

According to the records, the address across the street

is the one location in the neighborhood

that had a permit for construction

at the time of the kidnapping.

Which would account for the shouting and the banging,

and the trucks backing up.

Oh, and there used to be a fish market downstairs.

The real estate agent told me that the guy who owned this loft

died about five years ago.

And the rental records no longer exist.

It looks as if it hasn’t been used forever.

Erin?

This is where it was.

What do you remember?

I’m playing with my jacks.

And I hide them behind the radiator.

There’s no radiator.

There was one there once.

Right.

What is this? It looks like dried vegetables of some sort.

Carrots, maybe?

I used to hide food that I didn’t want.

And that poster, I remember that poster.

SPATTER PAINTINGS RICO GALLERIES NEW YORK

Jessica, are you all right?

Of course! Spatter!

Where did you get these?

Oh, it’s amazing what a bank will fax you,

when you supply them with an account number,

social security number and a mother’s maiden name.

- That’s fraud. - Oh, and that’s embezzlement.

Plus criminal abuse of fiduciary obligations,

proving that you and Terry have been looting Erin’s trust fund.

You have gone to a lot of trouble

to prove you’re managerial material.

Oh, too little, too late, Mike.

What do you want, Sonny?

Job security.

I think one-third partnership in the Hampton operation

should provide that.

Oh, good. I’ll have my lawyer call your lawyer

to draw up the papers.

They didn’t have to drag me.

I went to that loft with Drew and Jessica

because I wanted to.

Look, Erin, this is getting us nowhere.

Mother, I have work to do, okay?

No, it’s not okay! Not for another minute, anyway!

Erin, I just want to help you.

I don’t need any help. I’m handling this just fine.

Yeah. I can see that.

Mother, we have been down this road so many times.

And you have still got it wrong.

Oh, come on, mother!

What you want from me is something that I can’t give you.

God knows I’ve tried!

I have told you a thousand times,

I do not hold you responsible for what happened!

Jessica, we’re wasting our time here.

A fine luxury hotel like this, everything spotless,

and dirt spattered all over the wall?

What’s this? What’s this?

- Ah! - A bullet!

That’s what splashed the dirt on the wall

when it was fired into the moist potting soil.

But there was only one empty chamber.

Suppose Mr. Matheson was murdered.

Right. The killer shoots him at close range.

Then reloaded another bullet into the same cylinder chamber.

Puts the revolver in Matheson’s hand,

shoots the second round into the dirt.

Which is why the gunpowder residue test

on Mr. Matheson’s hand

turned out positive, indicating a self-inflicted gunshot.

And the note in the typewriter clinches it as suicide.

Impressive. I’ll have ballistics check this,

make sure it came from the same gun.

But I’ll bet the farm you’re right on this, Jessica.

Corelli. Yeah.

Yeah. Good.

You’re sure about this?

All right. All right. Thanks.

We’ve been looking for the chambermaid

that worked in Matheson’s floor.

- They just talked to her. - And?

Well, she recalls seeing somebody

on this floor last night.

The same person she saw leaving with the police

night before last.

- Erin. - Erin Garman.

All right, I did go back there.

This time to kill him.

With Nora Delano dead and no other proof,

he was sure to get away again.

I had a kitchen knife. I stood in the hall,

but I couldn’t go through with it, so I left.

And where does Drew Finley fit into this timetable?

I had no idea he was in the hotel,

until he stopped me in the lobby as I was leaving.

He’d followed me there.

I told him everything.

He said that I should go home,

that he would talk to Matheson for me.

I begged him not to try.

And when Drew went in and found Matheson dead,

he assumed that you did it.

Oh, and this IRS report on Matheson.

Turns out he scored some serious winnings off the ponies

about the same time as his conspicuous spending spree.

So it wasn’t ransom money he was spending.

You’re saying that Matheson really wasn’t the other kidnapper?

Isn’t that great? It’s Bobby’s latest.

Seems like you can almost touch that bunny tail, huh?

Yeah.

Oh, why didn’t it occur to me before?

Phil, I think I know who killed Mr. Matheson

and Nora Delano, and why.

Erin, how old were you when you started to wear glasses?

Is my daughter free and clear, lieutenant?

We tested the clothes that she wore last night,

no gunpowder residue.

But somewhere there are some clothes

that are gonna test positive.

Unless the perpetrator

was smart enough to destroy them.

Hey, how about a little midnight snack

to celebrate Erin’s release?

Oh, that’s a great idea.

Mike’s on his way in from the Hamptons.

I’ll just call Henrietta and have her put out a spread.

- May I? - Dial nine to get out.

It’s scary to think that we were so far off base.

I know. I know, sweetheart.

Henrietta? I’m gonna bring the kids home

for some of your delicious brisket.

Could you get the white tablecloth out of the closet?

Uh-huh. We’re on our way.

Yeah. Bye-bye.

All set. Thank you, lieutenant.

Right.

I’m parked behind you, so, we’ll meet you there, all right?

Mike?

Jessica!

Oh! You scared the hell out of me.

What... what are you doing here?

You know that we found the West village loft

where Erin was held captive.

I heard. That’s amazing.

You know, there are some odd indentations

in the old wooden floors.

I wondered what could have made them.

Machinery, maybe.

They used to do light industrial stuff down there, didn’t they?

Actually, it was more like things had been repeatedly dropped,

like the weights in a gym.

Well, that’s an interesting idea.

So I stopped at the library and checked the old yellow pages,

and sure enough, there was a gym in that loft at one time.

Sammy’s emporium. I noticed the name on a flyer.

It said you used to work there, Mike, as a trainer.

No secret. It’s in my bio.

Well, that loft has been unoccupied

ever since Sammy’s closed 12 years ago.

About a year before Erin was abducted.

Look, I don’t like where this is going.

Neither do I.

Come on, Mike. Henrietta’s prepared us a feast.

Jessica, you’re welcome to come, but without the innuendoes.

I’m afraid you’re stuck with them, Terry.

Your housekeeper confirmed that you were dating Mike

at the time of the kidnapping.

He was well aware of your father’s wealth,

and a grandfather’s affection for Erin.

You are twisting innocent facts into something...

Eleven years ago, Nora Delano was a waitress

in a coffee shop a block from Sammy’s.

Mike, you introduced Nora to the other kidnapper, didn’t you?

That’s enough!

And the other kidnapper was an unusually considerate one,

seeing to it that Nora served the child a healthy diet,

including carrots, to strengthen her weak eyes.

I imagine that’s because

the other kidnapper was you, Terry,

the victim’s mother.

What a monstrous thing to say.

Why would I do something like that?

For the three-million-dollar ransom

you knew you could collect from your own father.

It was the only way that you could bankroll the dream

you shared with your new boyfriend here,

to open this splendid health club.

That’s nonsense. We took out bank loans.

Uh-uh. We checked, Terry.

You were turned down by several banks.

My father wouldn’t give me the money

while I was involved with Mike.

We can’t be prosecuted.

I know. The statute of limitations.

But then there are the two murders you committed.

Nora Delano and Dirk Matheson.

Mike and I are due at home.

This locker. I’d like to show you something.

The white coat and gloves you wore when you shot Mr. Matheson,

plus the tapes of his interviews with Nora Delano.

Mike was just about to dispose of it when I walked in.

Jessica, you should’ve quit while you were ahead.

Lieutenant, in here!

You’re both under arrest for murder.

The setup was Jessica’s idea.

Once you made that phone call from my office

and pretended to tell Henrietta

to "get the white tablecloth out of the linen closet,"

we knew we had you. It was traced.

You called Mike in his car.

We had taps on all your phones, even the mobile one.

We followed him from the Hamptons.

He said, "You mean that stuff in the gym locker?"

You said, "Uh-huh."

And it gave me time to get over to the gym.

Fortunately, you hadn’t destroyed the evidence.

Nora resurfaced about four days ago.

She wanted money in exchange for not telling Erin what we’d done.

So you killed her.

I followed her down to the docks

where she was meeting Matheson.

I didn’t know who he was at the time.

When he left, I shot her.

And then Erin happened to read Dirk Matheson’s book.

When I read it, I was sure that he must’ve known

that we were involved in the kidnapping,

or he would have realized it.

And when you learned he had all those hours of audio tapes,

that clinched it.

I figured if I didn’t kill him,

it was just a matter of time till he’d put it all together.

So, I went to his hotel suite,

and I pretended that I was attracted to him.

Give me the tapes.

Is there anything else that you would like to know?

Yeah, just one thing.

It’s your own daughter. How could you do that?

I had no idea that she’d suffer so.

Oh, Phil! And detective Rogers.

I don’t want to barge in, Jessica.

- I just want to give you these. - For what?

Well, for getting that wonderful letter of recommendation

for Bobby from your friend at the museum.

- It did the trick? - Oh, yeah. Yeah.

But, actually, Bobby’s not drawing anymore.

What happened?

You’re not gonna believe this.

I got him this wonderful set of building blocks.

He’s making terrific things. A regular Frank Lloyd Wright.

You wouldn’t have any connections down at MIT, would you?

Just kidding!