All language subtitles for MrSWr1222

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Oh, yes! That’s it! First mainline fix of your man, T.T. Baines!

This station, it’s about survival.

Russ wants you to argue with T.T. Baines?

On the air?

You realize we’re gonna lose our entire audience?

And replace it with 12-to 18-year olds.

- No more music by dead guys. - You cultural sinkhole!

Someone took a shot at T.T. Baines last night.

You had a real instinct for publicity.

You think I would kill for a job?

He threatened to expose me.

He was blackmailing you.

Why are you doing this to me?

Someone is trying to kill me.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, for you music lovers,

was Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.

For you guys who just like to crank up your stereos,

it was that cool thing with the cannons.

It’s all right, I turned mine up, too, at that point.

That was a brand-new surround-sound recording

by the Krakow Symphony Orchestra,

conducted by Janos Symanski.

And now, this message.

Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! San Francisco!

This is T.T. you heard that right.

You know who I am, you know what I do!

And unless you’ve been living in your closet

for the last couple of weeks,

you know that starting on Monday,

I am taking over the airwaves in San Francisco.

That’s right! I’m gonna be slamming you with what’s what.

The meaning, the secret of what it is all about!

Don’t worry, Howard, it’s not the end of the world.

Are you quite sure?

- Ain’t no way, man. - Are you sure about that?

Russ, Russ, Russ! What, are you losing faith in me, man? Huh?

I don’t know, T.T.

St. Louis and Chicago, they were easy.

Listen to this. This town’s already out there.

No. No. No. You see, they think it is, okay?

Once they get a load of what I’m gonna be laying on ’em,

it’s gonna make everything else sound like Lawrence Welk.

See, I’m gonna make ’em love it. I’m gonna make ’em love me.

You better watch it, pal.

Buying into your own hype is dangerous.

Ah, come on! Hype-schmype!

Hey, whatever happened to "Russ the P.R. monster," huh?

Oh, geez! Russ, somebody’s shooting at us.

I told you this was a tough town.

And that, I am sorry to say,

is all the time we have left for today.

Uh, my guest this week, this final week at the Look at Books,

has been the elegant Jessica Fletcher,

the first lady of mystery writing.

Oh. Hey! Careful, Howard. Agatha Christie’s ghost may strike you dead.

Under the circumstances,

that might be a desirable fate.

Jessica’s latest best-seller is A Case and a Half of Murder.

I am loving it. I’m on page 167,

and I want to know, just between us,

is Leroy telling the truth about the hijacking of the...

tell me later. We’ll make them read the book.

You will love it too. I promise.

Over the next few days, this is Howard Deems,

the voice of KLOY FM, 114.3 on your radio dial,

wishing you all a very good day and good reading.

And we’re off.

Oh, and Howard, Graham wants to see you.

He’s not too happy about your editorializing.

Right.

Eddie? Eddie, where the hell are the CD’s

- you’re supposed to get for the show? - I’ve been busy.

You’ve been busy.

Let me explain something to you, all right?

In 32 hours, I hit the air for the first time in San Francisco.

I want things the way I want things.

Now, do you wanna work with me or not?

Unless, of course, you think maybe your reflexes are a little too slow

to keep up with the kind of cues I’m gonna need.

I could talk to Russ about that.

Thanks, T.T., but Russ already spelled it out for me real clear.

And?

You’ll have ’em tonight.

Thank you, Eddie. Thank you.

The face, and it pains me to say, the voice of the future.

Any news about yours?

Mostly it’s, "Call us in six months,"

or it’s just flat-out disinterest.

My agent’s embarrassed to return my calls, Jess.

Apparently, the market for aging announcers

who actually prize the English language

is even more limited than, uh...

Excuse me, Mr. Howard Deems?

Yes.

- Can I have a moment? - Uh, Lieutenant Evers?

- Mrs. Fletcher, what a pleasant surprise. - Thank you!

What brings you to San Francisco this time?

I’m here on a book tour and to visit with my good friend, Howard Deems.

Bless you.

Thanks. Do you...

Bless you.

Yes, Howard has a cat,

and I take it that your wife still has hers?

She offered to get rid of it.

Trouble is, I got attached to him.

Mr. Deems, I need to ask you some questions.

We may have a problem.

You must have heard, someone took a shot at T.T. Baines last night.

Oh, yes. We heard.

But what does that got to do with Howard?

Well, that’s what I want to know.

Oh, come on, dad.

I kept the office apprised of where I could be reached.

I could’ve cut my trip short and been back here in a second.

The opportunity presented itself,

and it was just too good to pass up.

But a total change in format?

You realize we’re gonna lose our entire audience.

Yeah, and replace it with 12-to 18-year olds.

The ones who spend serious money on new products and new ideas.

And the ones that advertisers pay big dollars trying to reach.

Oh, whoa. Wasn’t the Lexus a new product a few years ago?

I don’t see too many teenagers driving those babies around.

Look, Bud, Russ here and T.T. worked miracles in Chicago.

Turned the town’s lowest-rated station

into number one in less than a year.

St. Louis and Cincinnati before that.

Listen, Bud, we’re gonna make a great team together.

We?

I thought that you and T.T. were the team,

and I ran programming.

Bud, I have appointed Russ co-vice president.

I mean, you will share programming responsibilities.

God, dad, I...

just remind me never to go on vacation again.

Look, I’ve got a bunch of stuff I’ve gotta get ready for Monday.

Why don’t I let you two get back on the same page together?

Thanks.

Son, I’m sorry.

It was either this or oblivion.

Hello? Am I interrupting something momentous?

Of course not. Come in, darling.

Welcome back, Bud.

I want to hear all about your trip. Can you join us for lunch?

Thanks, but it looks like I have a lot of catching up to do.

Dad, is it really worth all this?

Oh, Lauren, I hope your instinct’s right about Baines

and Russ Connell.

Excuse me.

Colleen, can I talk to you for a minute?

Yeah. Hang on a second, Phil.

- Annie, what’s up? - You’re doing great,

but try not to be so late with your buy confirmations, else I’ll never catch up.

Right. Sorry. But you know, I can think of worse problems.

"And the new KLOY hits the youth-market bull’s-eye"

"with disc-jockeys that speak their language and play their music"

"from rock to hip-hop, to rap to junk."

Junk?

Uh, that’s funk. Sorry, that’s a typo.

Look, Murray, my kids eat this stuff up,

and they wear sneakers by the cartload, so...

- I’ve already talked to Colleen Sellers. - What? Our Colleen Sellers?

Yeah. She called me the other day regarding the purchase of--

Oh, yeah. Yeah. So long, Murray.

Oh, I’m glad to do it, Phil.

Listen, you enjoy that concert, okay? It’s gonna be humungous.

Biggest thing since The Dead were on tour--

Colleen, what the hell do you think you’re doing,

stealing my sports court shoes account?

Could you just keep it down here, please?

No, Phil. Thank you. I know. Isn’t it amazing?

And he’s not even on the air yet.

I told you, buying time on T.T. Baines was like money in the bank.

Okay. Bye.

Dave, I didn’t steal your clients.

Their ad agency called me.

Sure. Like you didn’t grab my other two biggest accounts.

Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m taking this to Graham.

Well, be my guest.

Russ, I’ve gotta talk to you about her.

Not now, Moline.

Damn it, you owe me.

Not now.

Mr. Deems, you admit you have more to lose

from this changeover at the station than anyone else?

Look, Lieutenant, that is the most unfair insinuation.

I mean, I have known Howard---

Mrs. Fletcher... if I may?

Your engineer, Eddie Mapp, confirms that you were absent

from the broadcast booth for 20 minutes last night,

during which time the shot was fired.

Look, Howard has already told you

that he went to the Deli and ordered a dinner sandwich,

and that he took the long way back to the studio.

Because he wanted the exercise. Sure.

Jess, bless you.

But we’re swimming upstream here.

In the next breath,

Lieutenant Evers is gonna tell us

that his people have been through my locker here,

and they have found...

yes! My target rifle!

It’s been recently fired, Lieutenant.

At the East Bay Rifle Club yesterday afternoon.

My regular Wednesday afternoon team practice.

And, of course, I neglected to clean my weapon after firing.

And, of course, my confreres will confirm to you

that as a past national champion,

I could shoot the eye out of an ostrich at 50 yards.

Look, Lieutenant, if he is such a crack shot,

I mean, how could he possibly have missed

either T.T. Baines or Russ Connell last night?

Anyway, you told me that the bullet was too mangled to identify.

Or tie to any single weapon. Right.

Okay. Mr. Deems,

for now, just don’t go anyplace where I can’t find you, okay?

Oh, hey. My wife and I,

we’re gonna miss your opera broadcasts a lot.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

On the other hand, our 13-year-old,

already ape for your replacement.

Howard, go get the car. I’ll meet you downstairs.

Thank you.

Bye-bye, Beethoven. Adios, Bach.

Buenos noches, Brahms.

Oh!

Mr. Baines!

Mr. Deems!

I will still be playing these until Monday.

Relax. You’ll find them. They’re right there.

Look, come on. As if it weren’t enough

that I gotta tweak dials in a strange studio for six hours,

somebody is trying to kill me, in case you didn’t hear.

Which, by the way, I’m assuming,

they decided you didn’t take that shot at me?

I had nothing to do with it.

Hey, I’m just kidding, okay?

At your age, it’s surprising you hit anything at all.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

You see what it is, Howard, is no more music by dead guys.

You dolt.

You are a cultural sinkhole! You’re a troglodyte!

Guys, this is beautiful!

What? Seeing everything I care about trashed?

Or listening to his gibberish?

Howard, wait a minute!

Russ, Russ, Russ. Let him go. The guy cannot take a joke.

Well, that’s what’s so perfect.

I found the key to winning big in this town.

Yin and yang. Good cop, bad cop.

Howard!

You see, that scares me.

Oh, how you doing, gorgeous?

I’m fine, honey. The question is, how are you doin’?

You know what it said in the high school yearbook, right?

- "T.T. Baines will live forever." - "Live forever."

- That’s right. That’s right. - You will.

Right. $3,227.

You’ll have your check Monday at the latest.

Sorry for the delay.

Yeah. Well, the good news is,

it seems to be helping our cash flow.

You, too.

Well, I can see why Graham considers you irreplaceable, Annie.

Can I help you with anything, Mr. Connell?

It’s Russ, and you can help yourself by getting used to me.

Hmm. I suppose I will.

I’m not as flexible as I used to be.

Really?

It doesn’t seem to have affected your neck.

You’re still able to look the other way without any trouble.

I don’t think I understand.

Sure, you do.

I’m talking about how Dave Moline manages to have lunch at his desk,

but still can put in a chit for a $75 lunch at the top of the Mark,

all on the same day.

And given his dismal sales performance,

and the size of his expense account,

I can’t help but conclude that he’s very lucky

to have you handling the books around here.

What’re you driving at, Mr. Connell?

I just thought that you’d be willing to

make it worth my while to keep this between us.

That sounds a whole lot like blackmail.

Nothing wrong with your hearing either.

I was thinking of something in the neighborhood of, say...

a couple of thousand a week.

A couple... are you crazy?

Where do you think I can find that kind of cash?

Same place you find Dave’s expense money.

Calm down?

Firstly, they accused me of taking a shot at that freak!

And then, his keeper has the gall to suggest

that I work on air with him?

Now, Russ wants you to argue with T.T. Baines?

On the air? I mean, to be his foil?

Foil!

What a nice word, Jessica!

I think "stooge" describes it rather more accurately.

He says there’s an almost "chemical edge"

between myself and that throwback.

Well, I told him he could take that idea and...

Ah! At last, a voice of reason.

Howard, now look, I can’t fault your sense of outrage.

And believe me, I appreciate your willingness

to forgo any future payment on your contract.

Jessica, do you hear the sound of another shoe dropping?

Ah, it does have that ring, Howard.

Cute. Cute.

If you think I enjoy this, you’re wrong.

Get to it, Graham.

Okay. Okay. Um...

our lawyers have examined your contract, and, uh...

well, basically, they reminded me

it does run another 14 months.

You mean Howard must handle

whatever assignments Russ wants to give him?

I tried to dissuade Russ, but...

what’s Russ to do with this, Graham?

What about us? What about you and me?

Oh, Howard, please!

Jessica, talk to him, will you?

And try not to Judge me.

Hi, Russ.

Hey, babe.

Let’s go take a jacuzzi.

Let’s have another drink first.

Look, Bud, I just want to make this thing work for us,

- And for your father. - Uh-huh?

What’s the story with you and Lauren Hayward?

Story? We grew up together.

Right.

She comes to San Francisco six months ago,

my dad goes crazy for her,

the station happens to be in the dumper,

and she convinces him

that you and T.T. can save our tails for a few bucks.

That’s a whole lot of coincidences.

Bud, I swear, that’s all it was.

Okay, then maybe you can explain the fact

that when she supposedly moved here from New York,

she came via a three-week stopover in Chicago,

where you guys just happened to be working.

It’s no secret.

- She came by to renew an old friendship. - You know what I think?

I think the three of you have been working together for a long time.

I think it would be real interesting to trace

how you got set up in St. Louis and Chicago.

Let me ask you a question.

Does this have anything to do with the fact

that a beautiful lady about your age

is more interested in your father than in you?

No. It doesn’t.

All I can say, pal, you may not be aware of it,

but you got a major problem.

And now, the last act of Giordano’s opera, Andrea Chenier,

in which chenier, the noble French poet and patriot,

is sent to his death on the guillotine,

a victim of the revolution.

I hope you’ll forgive the somewhat obvious metaphor,

as this concludes my final broadcast of Classics in the Morning.

I want to thank you all for a long and rewarding musical friendship.

And don’t forget to look for me on the new KLOY FM,

featuring that exciting newcomer to San Francisco radio, T.T. Baines.

Well, I don’t know what you said

to Howard to turn him around, Jessica,

but we owe you.

I wish you didn’t.

Here’s the material you asked me to pull, Mr. Forbes.

Thanks, Annie.

These are the employee files you asked for.

I’m not sure what you’re gonna find

that the police haven’t already found.

Well, I’m not sure that I know either.

But since Howard is still up there on their screens as the prime suspect,

I have to give it a try.

Are you thinking that maybe the shooter was

one of our people, Mrs. Fletcher?

Two grand a week he wants? Oh, man.

Annie, I feel terrible.

I mean, I dragged you into this,

helping me pad my expenses and all.

Oh, old news.

Maybe I should’ve called you on it in the beginning,

but you were in such a bind

with your kid’s medical bills and your mother and...

I kept meaning to pay it back.

How much are we up to now?

46,000 and change.

Oh, God.

Listen, Dave,

if you repaid it and then we explained it to Graham,

we’d be heading that creep off at the pass.

Forget it.

I’m mortgaged up to here, my plastic is maxed,

and the way my sales have been going...

Okay. Then we just go to Graham and confess,

and hope he’ll understand.

I don’t think so.

You had no call to walk out on me last night.

You didn’t give me much choice.

You wouldn’t listen, Russ. You’re not listening now. I really care about Graham.

I love him.

- You’ll get over it. - No! I won’t.

I’m gonna marry Graham Forbes.

Get outta here! In two weeks, you’ll see

that it’s just like it was in St. Louis and Chicago.

Look, from here we go to L.A. and then to New York.

No. You and T.T., you’ll do it.

You don’t need me to shill for you anymore.

You’re wrong, Lauren, I need you.

- Russ. - Dave, not now!

- We’ve gotta talk! - I said later!

- When? - When I say so. Now get outta here!

I don’t think I even want to know what that one was about.

All Graham Forbes has to offer is a lame radio station

that he can’t even unload.

It’s not about the money, Russ.

That’s all it’s ever been about.

That, and you and me.

I’m not letting you go.

Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

Let me answer that with a question.

Do you think Graham’s enough of a stand-up guy

to overlook the station owners that you conned

in Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis?

Russ, you wouldn’t do that.

There’s only gonna be one villain in this piece, and it’s not gonna be me.

So just get ready to kiss him off like you did all the others.

People, people, people! We’re doing some serious damage

in the studio here today, ain’t that right?

Damage our insurance does not cover.

Riding shotgun with me is the illustrious,

the erudite, Howard Deems.

Howard, what’d you think of that last piece of music? Great, right?

Yes, Mr. Baines, it was great, if your definition of greatness

includes the banal, the numbingly repetitive, the unintelligible.

What you just played is non-music. Empty-music.

It postpones music. No, it displaces music.

You’re right in a sense though, it was a great piece of...

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! FCC rules.

Let me ask you a question, okay?

Do you know the difference between boring and not boring?

Yes. Boring, what you just played.

Not boring, Schumann’s Kinderszenen.

Boring, what you’re going to play.

Not boring, Mozart’s symphony no.35.

Wrong answer, but thanks for playing our game.

San Francisco, that’s it. You’ve just had it.

Your first shot, your first dose, your first mainline fix

via the radio airways of your man, T.T. Baines.

So until manaña, this is T.T. riding at you

with Howard Deems trying desperately to keep up.

- Howard, good night. - Good night, Mr. Baines.

See you tomorrow, 6:00 a.m. ciao, kiddies!

They liked it?

I was right, Mrs. Fletcher.

Whether he likes it or not, your friend Howard has found himself a new career.

I’m afraid it looks that way, Mr. Connell.

Are we smoking or what?

You were super, T.T.

fabulous! And you too, Howard!

Ah, Howard! Howard is my man!

That thing you said about Eddie Vedder, that was priceless!

Hey, Mrs. Fletcher, why don’t you join us on the air one night, huh?

Maybe next time I’m in San Francisco.

Outstanding! It’s set then. Hey, book the lady a slot, would you?

Mrs. Fletcher, you’re on!

Guys, it was everything we’d hoped for.

Come here.

Jess, don’t put your neck in the noose on my account.

Listen, that can’t have been easy for you.

Can I buy you a cup of coffee, dinner?

Ah, rain check, Jess? Maybe we can grab breakfast on the way to the airport.

Sure.

Lauren! Lauren! Lauren! I can’t get over it. You look fantastic!

Thank you, T.T.

San Francisco certainly appears to be agreeing with you.

Well, this town is great,

but that’s not what’s doing it to me.

It’s Graham.

Oh, do tell!

I’m serious. It’s the first time in my life

that I know what it feels like to be in love.

Oh, come on, Lauren. It’s gonna happen just like before.

You’re gonna blow outta town, move on to greener pastures.

You’re gonna forget all about Graham,

like you forgot about the rest of those clowns.

You’re wrong, T.T., with Graham, it’s different.

Look, you’ve always been straight with me.

You’re starting to sound a hell of a lot like Russ. Did he put you up to this?

No. No, Lauren. Come on, this is me talking to you, okay?

It’s just that I’ve known you for a hell of a long time,

and I can’t picture you throwing away

everything you’ve worked so hard for on Graham.

I cannot believe that you’re saying this.

If you were a true friend, you’d be really happy for me.

Next thing I know you’ll be threatening to go to Graham as well.

- Come on. - Just forget it, T.T.

oh! Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

I thought I was the only one here.

Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, Colleen.

I’ve just been working in Graham’s office.

Oh, these time sales are just jumping off the charts here.

I didn’t want to get too far behind, logging these in for Annie.

Colleen, I’m really concerned

that the police still suspect Howard

of shooting at T.T. and Russ.

Hey, I don’t blame you.

I totally can’t picture him pulling a stunt like that.

Well, that’s why I’ve been going through the personnel files,

hoping that I might find someone else

who would’ve had a reason to do it.

Well, then you must’ve noticed that I’d spent six months

at WWRA, in Bangor, Maine.

The owner, Phil sinclair, is a friend of mine.

I talked to him a little while ago.

He said he thought you had a real instinct for publicity,

but that sometimes, you had a tendency to go overboard

with some of your ideas.

Oh.

Well, then he must also have told you that he canned me.

So, you’re wondering whether I had something to do

with what happened the other night.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher, I didn’t fire that shot at Russ and T.T.

of course.

Let me tell you something.

I don’t aim to quit until the show is syndicated nationwide.

I’m not about to let you or anybody else stand in my way.

Somebody thinks they can push me around, they’re asking for real...

so, I’m in my room, I’m dead asleep, I hear this screaming.

I yank open the door, and the maid is...

she’s standing there in Russ’ doorway.

How long have the two of you been business associates?

Come on, forget business associates.

The guy was my best friend since we were six years old.

Lieutenant?

It’s all right. Let them in.

Be right with you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Now, did he have a family?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Oh, man.

Look, can I go? I should probably go call his old man,

tell him what happened.

Sure, go ahead.

And how do you and Mr. Deems happen to be here, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I was staying here at this hotel.

I was picking her up to take her to the airport.

We saw the commotion downstairs.

What do you make of this, Lieutenant?

Well, the poor guy was run through with a fireplace poker.

No prints, it was wiped clean.

Appears to have happened between 2:00 and 5:00 a.m.

a robbery that went wrong.

The victim’s wallet is empty, credit cards are gone.

Probably one of those middle-of-the-night break-ins,

where Mr. Connell was unlucky enough to interrupt the thief.

Something wrong, Mrs. Fletcher?

Why didn’t the thief take that?

Uh, maybe we’re looking at an amateur,

or a spaced-out junkie who panicked and ran.

Or, uh... you don’t look like I’ve made a sale.

Of course, there’s always the other possibility that

the killer didn’t care what they took.

And just wanted to create the impression

that robbery was the primary motive.

Well, that’d play right into another scenario

that the killer was the same individual

who took a shot at Mr. Connell the other night.

Mr. Deems, you mind telling me where you were

between 2:00 and 5:00 this morning?

Uh, I was at home.

- By yourself? - Yes.

- Asleep, right? - No, as a matter of fact,

I was lying flat on my back staring at the ceiling,

contemplating the evaporation of the rest of my life.

Well, don’t plan on any traveling, okay?

Oh! What a situation.

Lauren’s an absolute wreck.

It’s a very personal loss for her, you know.

Yeah.

Ah, I just hope to God it’s not one of our people.

Morbid thought, but, you know,

this is gonna buy us and T.T. Baines

more publicity than we could’ve dreamed of.

I wish I had never started this whole programming make-over.

If I’d been kept within the loop--

Bud, please, not now.

Sorry.

Look, I really need your help.

Can I count on you?

Yes, dad. Yes.

Graham.

Uh, Howard, can it wait?

No, Graham, it can’t.

Sorry, I don’t mean to add to your problems, but I can’t go on.

Howard, no.

I mean, the initial reaction

to you and T.T. has been spectacular.

Forgive me for not feeling flattered,

but as the fox said after making love to the porcupine,

"I’ve enjoyed about as much of this as I can stand."

Look, Howard, if it’s a matter of money, perhaps we can...

No, Graham.

It’s a matter of being able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning!

I cannot go on blithely being struck over the head with a pig bladder

by a 27-year-old illiterate in the name of so-called entertainment.

Well, just bear with us for a while anyway.

Just until T.T. gets his bearings.

Uh, to lose his buddy and you at the same time.

For old times’ sake.

Like father, like son.

Hello, T.T.

Hey, Mrs. Fletcher. Figured you’d be, you know,

flying back to New York by now.

Well, so did I, but I was worried about Howard.

Oh, God. You know, I heard that.

I don’t understand how such a sweet guy could’ve...

you know?

I can’t get used to the idea that Russ is gone.

I mean, the guy was my best friend

all through grade school, high school.

T.T., you gonna be up for your drive-time show?

Yeah. Yeah. The show must go on, right?

You know, Russ, he got me started in all this.

I read about it in your press kit.

You were working as a fry cook in Cincinnati?

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Pathetic but true.

Anyway, one night, Russ walks in.

I hadn’t seen him in like a year,

he had just dropped out of college,

so he was totally bummed. As bummed as I was.

Anyway, the music is playing,

and I just started talking nonsense,

trying to cheer him up.

All of a sudden, he’s like, "T.T., I can see it."

"You are gonna be on the radio!"

And that was it?

Well, that, and a lot of luck.

Look, I gotta get going, but thanks for letting me rattle on.

Oh, not at all, T.T.

Annie, do you have a minute?

I need to ask you some questions about Dave Moline.

Mrs. Fletcher was very reluctant to share information with me

about your problems back in Maine, Ms. Sellers.

But this is a homicide investigation now.

Lieutenant, why would I want to kill Russ Connell?

Because of him and T.T. Baines,

I’m having the best year ever, by about double.

Then something drastic must’ve happened.

Personnel had an order from Connell to pink-slip you

as of the close of business Friday.

Oh. No, please, tell me you’re kidding.

You think I would kill for a job?

Where were you at the time of the murder?

At home. Asleep.

Alone, unfortunately.

I’ll keep in touch.

It’s weird, isn’t it,

how just talking to a cop can make you feel guilty?

Oh, yeah, it’s a scream. But, on the bright side,

at least now you won’t have to be working with Russ.

I guess you’re not too broken up about that.

I’d say neither one of us is.

I saw Russ’ termination memo on you.

And?

I canceled it.

Colleen, how’d you like to be head of sales?

Well, I think you know the answer to that, Bud.

But at what price?

As of this moment, you and I close ranks.

You cover for me, I cover for you.

I think we could do some good things here.

Something funny?

No. Just...

just life.

You said there was something you needed to talk to me about.

If this has to do with my expense account situation...

Now, Annie’s already told me about that, Dave,

and how you plan to make things right.

This is about Russ Connell.

Russ wasn’t the nicest guy in the world.

No, he wasn’t.

And I now believe that he was blackmailing you about something.

Me?

I’m the last guy anyone would try that with.

I’m perpetually broke.

Not for money, but in some other way.

Mrs. Fletcher, why are you doing this to me?

Because Howard Deems is in trouble over something

I believe Russ Connell forced you to do.

- I didn’t kill him. - Maybe not.

But Russ had access to the employee files,

and in yours he must have discovered

your service in the marine corps,

and the mention of your sharpshooter’s medal.

Russ told me no one would find out.

"Just fire a shot," he said.

Being careful not to hit Russ or T.T. or harm anyone.

He said it’d be a great publicity gag.

I suppose you’re going to tell the police about this.

It’ll be better coming from you, Dave.

Please, tell lieutenant Evers.

At least clear Howard of this shooting.

- Howard. - Mr. Baines.

- No, no, no. Howard. - Mr. Baines.

Howard!

Mr. Baines, your insults do not wound.

Don’t imply what you mean to infer.

Then your insults have a little pith, a little depth...

Howard, come on, you are like a broken record, man.

It’s not like you’re a guy who isn’t on the right page.

We’re talkin’ about an entirely different book here.

- Absolutely. Yes. - I’m glad we agree.

San Francisco, that’s just about it.

I know it’s sad, but it’s true. I gotta get outta here.

Uh, but before I leave, I would like to dedicate this show

to a good friend of mine, the late Russell Connell.

Gonna miss you, man.

Until tomorrow, this is T.T. Baines,

riding at you with his ever-faithful companion,

Howard the Deems-man, sitting by my side.

Howard, have I told you today that I love you?

No. I’m so grateful.

On your new rowdy, raucous radio station,

KLOY FM, located at 114.3 on your dial.

Hey, I just did the Deems.

See you tomorrow, 6:00 a.m. ciao, people!

Thanks. Both of you.

That was a hell of an effort.

- Hey, Mrs. Fletcher. - Good show, T.T.

- Thanks to Howard here. - Jessica, if the offer’s still open,

you can buy me that drink now.

I think it’ll have to wait.

Lieutenant, there’s something I must tell you.

Later, Moline. I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.

Mr. Deems, I’m placing you under arrest for Russell Connell’s murder.

- But, Lieutenant, why? - Eyewitness.

A Chambermaid at Mr. Connell’s hotel

placed Mr. Deems in the corridor at 3:00 a.m.,

coming out of the victim’s suite.

Okay, okay. Suppose you’re right.

Suppose Mr. Deems is telling the truth

that he went there to tell Russell Connell

that he couldn’t face working with T.T. Baines and found him dead.

Well, now that is a small step in the right direction.

- I’ll let that pass, Mrs. Fletcher. - Look, my apologies...

now, you’re assuming that the door was left open by the murderer.

I know he’s a friend of yours.

The fact is I would just as soon he wasn’t the killer.

My wife’s been hocking me for arresting him

ever since I came home last night.

You said that nobody else had an alibi either.

Well, exactly. You know where this puts me, Mrs. Fletcher?

This is like you’re renewing my long-term lease on square one.

All right. Let’s go back to the notion that this robbery stuff

was just a diversion to throw us off.

- Unless-- - Oh, come on, that was your idea.

Oh, I know, I know. But here’s another one.

Suppose one or more of the items that were taken

had some special significance.

And the rest was simply a smoke screen.

Okay. Well, apparently, all we’re missing

are the contents from his wallet and a bunch of credit cards,

none of which has been used since the murder.

What, Mason?

Uh, crime scene photos, Lieutenant.

Oh, incidentally, that money clip you spotted.

Solid silver. T.T. Baines gave it to Connell

when they hit number one in the Chicago market.

Jessica: Lieutenant, there’s something wrong with this picture.

Something is missing.

I’m not sure I know what it is.

Excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher.

Evers.

Yeah.

Okay. I gotta go, Mrs. Fletcher.

- There’s a homicide on Geary. - Sure.

- We’ll take this up later. - Uh-huh.

Thank you.

The class ring.

You want to go over the schedule

for the drive-time spots next week?

Uh, no. Not now, Eddie, okay?

$46,000?

I’m ashamed, Graham, I never meant it to come this far.

But that’s every penny of it, including interest.

- Annie here, she... - Dave!

I’ve got to tell him.

She took out a second mortgage on her condo.

Of course, I’ll clear out my desk and I’ll be gone.

Dad, Dave’s not going anywhere, is he?

You’re not gonna sic the law on him.

It’s okay, Annie. I understand.

And I deserve anything the law has in store for me.

Dave! Dave! Stop.

Bud means that you’ve been there

for this station from the beginning.

And when you were in trouble, when you needed that loan,

I should never have turned you down.

Look. Here. Go on. Take it.

Consider it a long-overdue bonus.

Graham, I...

thank you.

Right. All right.

Now, get out there and sell some more time, huh?

And both of you,

try to keep down those expenses.

I still don’t understand what was so important

about Russ’s ring being missing.

Because it was his senior class ring

at Central High in Cincinnati,

where you and Russ and T.T. were friends.

I don’t follow you, Jessica.

Why would I be relieved that it was taken?

Because it might reveal something

that you didn’t want Graham Forbes to know about.

Graham and I have no secrets.

Lauren, this afternoon I located the company

that supplied the class rings at Central High.

Your original invoice was still on their computers.

Do you remember the inscription?

"For Russ. Lovers forever, Lauren."

I know what you’re thinking.

And I did seriously consider killing him.

He threatened to expose me unless I used Graham

the same way that he made me use the other station owners.

And in the end, I had the anger,

but I didn’t have the courage.

But if you had, Lauren, you’d have taken the ring, too, wouldn’t you?

I mean, thinking that it might have led Graham to the truth.

But I didn’t. I really didn’t.

Thank you, Lauren.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Yes! Yes! Yes! San Francisco, this is T.T.

That’s right. You heard it right, T.T. Baines.

You know who I am. You know what I do.

Oh! Time out, San Francisco, we just got ourselves

a very special visitor in the studio.

The one, the only, J. B. Fletcher.

Jessica, to what do I owe this honor?

Well, you did say to stop by soon, T.T.

and since Howard Deems is still, uh, indisposed...

Yeah. The deems-man. How’s my little buddy doing?

Well, he’s about to be released for insufficient evidence.

Released! You heard it here first, San Francisco!

That’s great! Are they, you know, saying who did it?

Well, that’s the unfortunate part.

You see, Russ’ class ring from Central High is missing.

It turns out to be the last piece of the puzzle.

Yeah? What do you mean?

I’m afraid its disappearance means Lauren killed Russ.

No, Mrs. Fletcher,

they’ve got it wrong. Not Lauren.

- I know you want to protect her, -No, really.

Russ... he was gonna ruin everything for her, but...

I’m sorry, T.T.,

but Lauren is going to have to pay the price for her crime.

If she’s lucky, and you testify

to what you know about Russ.

No, Lauren didn’t do it.

I did.

Look, Lieutenant, Mrs. Fletcher’s got it all wrong.

I think you’re looking for this.

I took it from him when I...

I tried to make it look like a robbery,

and almost succeeded.

But a little while ago, when Lauren was dabbing at her eyes,

I recalled a telltale soot smudge on your handkerchief,

a handkerchief you used to wipe your fingerprints from the fireplace poker.

I realized, finally, it had to have been you

who took the one worthless object

that was missing.

The class ring.

With an inscription from Lauren.

I was afraid...

Graham was gonna find out about it one way or another.

Russ...

I don’t know, he went over the edge.

I don’t know what it was. The money, the fame.

He was trying to force Lauren to do Graham

the way she did the other station managers.

I tried to convince him

that it was different for her this time.

He just laughed at me.

She’d waited so long for someone like Graham

to come into her life.

I couldn’t let him do it.

I couldn’t let him take that away from her.

And Vivaldi concludes today’s session of Symphony on Parade.

Until tomorrow, this is your host, Howard Deems,

wishing all of you a very good day

from all of us here at KLOY FM.

Eduardo, we are back!

Bravissimo!

Jessica!

We’ve got to hurry if you’re not gonna miss your flight.

I’d like to find a little time, too, for a celebratory shave.

This is sweet, isn’t it?

Oh, it’s splendid, Howard!

I couldn’t be happier for you and for KLOY,

and I understand that the advertising sales are better than ever.

Indeed!

The advertisers seem finally to have discovered the idea

that people like us are an invaluable segment of the market.

You know, it’s funny,

but some of the stuff that T.T. forced me to listen to

is actually kind of good.

Howard, am I hearing what I think I’m hearing?

Yes, Jessica, you are.

And if you ever tell anyone, I will never speak to you again.