All language subtitles for MrSWr703

Don't threaten me. I've heard it before.

You haven't heard it from me before.

Miss McPhee, I presume.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

How did you know it was me?

Braille.

It must have been difficult for you

watching him enter into a series of unfortunate marriages,

while you were in love with him.

That is not true!

It's been years since anyone actually tried to pick me up.

I find that difficult to believe.

You're a visitor in this house, Mr. Briscoe.

Please don't do that.

What? This?

Bring that car back here!

Ed!

You lousy creep.

Ed!

Ed, bring that car back here!

Come back here!

Ed!

For better, for worse, until death do you part.

I don't know about you,

but I remember when those words meant something.

These days it seems that young people

just don't have the same commitment to marriage

as our generation did.

Maybe it's the pressure of modern times

or maybe it's just the ease with which vows can be broken,

especially with a little help from a divorce lawyer

like Truman Calloway.

Oh, now, surely you've heard of the infamous Mr. Calloway,

a man who has made his reputation, such as it is,

by feeding on the misery of others.

No?

Well, let me tell you about him.

Mr. Calloway's office.

Yes, good morning, Mrs. Kriegler.

No, I am sorry. He's with a client right now.

May I have him get back to you?

Just one moment.

I will see if he can talk.

Yes?

Mrs. Kriegler's on line one, sir, and she sounds very upset.

Amy Sue?

How are you doing this morning, darling?

Whoa.

He did what?

He pushed the sports car over a cliff into a ravine?

Well, I think you're right. Ed's not taking this divorce well at all.

Well, sure, it's a criminal matter.

Well, no, darling.

I wouldn't go to the police.

Well, because that'll just make things worse.

No, you get in touch with the insurance company.

You explain to them what happened. They'll take care of it.

Well, now, honey, I'm in the middle of an important meeting right now,

but you just do like I told you and it will be fine.

Okay?

Well, it's nice talking to you.

Bye, bye.

Crazy little gal.

You get her $10 million, you think she's happy?

If you ask me, she's still in love with that jerk.

Now, where were we?

Oh, yes, your wife, the cheese heiress.

Melissa, Melissa Greenleaf of the Wisconsin Greenleafs.

She's the old man's granddaughter,

and she's worth between $20 and $25 million in her own right.

That was the first thing I checked out before we got married three years ago.

You know, Mr. Trixler,

this is a little unusual for me,

because normally I represent the aggrieved wives

in a divorce action, not their husbands.

I'm not greedy, Mr. Calloway.

A lump sum of $3 or $4 million would suit me just fine.

Out of that, I'd pay you maybe 10%, 15%.

No, out of that, you'd give me a third.

That's if I take the case,

which I'm not sure I want to do.

You see, it's a lot easier for a jury to work up sympathy

for a neglected wife

than it is for a fortune-hunting beach bum.

You'll excuse my bluntness.

No need to apologize.

We're talking business here.

I'm sure my feelings will survive.

I just knew he was going to do something awful, Mr. Stanton.

I mean, you have to know Ed.

He has this terrible temper.

When it gets the best of him, he's just not rational.

So-- so as I was saying, I went in and phoned the police,

but they didn't find Ed until it was too late.

They called me first thing this morning,

and they said they found my car in the bottom of a ravine.

They said it appeared to have been pushed over the edge.

Pushed, Mr. Stanton.

The man actually pushed his car into a gully and destroyed it.

It was a criminal act, Mr. Stanton.

The man should be in jail,

but my attorney tells me that's probably not possible.

Your, uh... attorney?

Yes, Truman Calloway.

No doubt you've heard of him?

Oh, who among us hasn't, Mrs. Kriegler?

But this vehicle you keep referring to--

A Testarossa.

Uh, yes.

Now, first it's his car, then it's your car,

then it's his car--

Well, it was his car originally.

I mean, it was his lifelong dream to own one.

Ah.

And then in the divorce settlement, it became my car.

We insisted on that.

Mr. Calloway insisted on it...

at my insistence.

Oh, I see.

It's--it's really not the way it seems.

I mean, I didn't do it out of spite or anything.

I was just hoping that if he thought

he'd lose his precious car,

he might change his mind about the divorce.

Oh, so it was his idea to split up?

Yes, I mean no.

Actually, I can't remember how it started.

All I know is, once it got rolling downhill,

there was no stopping it.

My lawyers, his lawyers... it got so messy.

Well, listen.

We do have a small problem here.

Now, this policy was issued in both your names.

So technically your husband, I mean your ex-husband,

was destroying his own property, for which we are not liable.

Well, but I just told you--

On the other hand, if the car was specifically a part

of the divorce settlement...

Um, look, why don't I look into this and see what I come up with?

Would you, Mr. Stanton?

- I'd be ever so grateful. - Of course.

Anything I can do to help, Mrs. Kriegler.

And I hope things work out for you.

Thank you.

So do you think you'll be able to solve her problem for her?

Unlikely, Rhoda.

I'm singularly untrained as a marriage counselor.

Truman!

Darling!

Joyce!

What a surprise!

I thought you were in LA auditioning for a part?

The producer wanted a blond.

I said, "Darling I can be blond, redhead, or bald.

If that's what you want."

I think his girlfriend got the part.

Now, darling,

you and I have got to talk.

Well, not now. I'm late for an important lunch.

Then we'll talk on the way.

Now, really, Truman,

you can't be serious about that dreadful prenuptial agreement.

Darling, having had to share my income

with three previous wives has not made me a happy man,

and I don't intend to make the same mistake again.

- You know I'd never do that to you. - Good.

Then sign the paper, we'll fly to Reno.

You don't love me.

I love you well enough to pay you $10,000 a month

if it doesn't work out...

Plus $1 million policy on my life,

which I've given all my ex-wives...

all but Charmaine.

She only got 1/4 million of it.

She was my first and I was poorer then.

You were never poor, Truman.

Hmm?

Except maybe in spirit.

All you ever think about is your money.

I honestly don't think you've ever loved anyone.

Perhaps I did once.

But I didn't know it.

Truman Calloway, now, there's a piece of work.

Believe me, once the lawyers get hold of you, you're dead meat.

Odd.

Your ex-wife feels the same way.

Yeah, real odd, since she hired him.

Now, about the car, Mr. Kriegler--

The only thing I ever really splurged on.

I work 14, 15 hours a day, Stanton.

I don't have time for country clubs or yachts or European tours.

What I make, I can't even spend.

So why'd she have to take the car, huh?

Well, maybe it was a symbol.

Your work came first, she came second.

Maybe she was trying to punish you. Not that I'm an expert.

No, you're not.

Charlie, the cases for Oppenheimer.

You got to get them to the post office by 3:00.

Now, move it.

Okay, the car.

To keep things simple, suppose I pay Amy Sue

the price of the car. Is that okay?

- Fine by me. - Good.

I'll write her a check.

Now you and your company are out of it.

You'll have to sign a release.

Whatever. Excuse me.

Charlie, what are you doing, waiting for New Years?

Get your butt in first gear!

Okay, Mrs. Fenton gets the BMW, the condo in Hawaii,

the beach house in Malibu, and those both fully paid up.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

My client is not about pay off those mortgages.

He'll keep up the payments.

Yeah, but what if he doesn't?

Let's keep this clean, Mr. Briscoe.

- Paid up, both properties. - Come on, Calloway,

I can't go back to him with this. You're killing him.

I understand how devastated he is,

a TV actress on his arm in a New York disco,

weekend in Vegas with Miss 3rd Runner Up?

You're screwing with the wrong guy, Calloway.

Is that a threat, Mr. Briscoe?

Listen, pal.

Ten years, busted my butt in night school...

This case is my ticket to the big time.

You make me look bad, I'm coming after you, personally.

I understand you're an ex-police officer,

but don't threaten me.

I've heard it before.

Oh, yeah?

Well, you haven't heard it from me before.

Something more, Mr. Calloway? Some coffee?

No, thank you, Ernie.

Just the check.

Coming right up.

Hello, Truman.

Charmaine.

My God, it is you.

I need to talk to you.

If this is a bad time, I--

No, no, of course not.

Sit down, please.

Ernie.

Well, the last I heard you were living in Milwaukee.

- Still am. - Sir?

How about some lunch?

Oh, no, I'm not hungry yet. Just coffee, please.

- Two. - Yes, sir.

You look wonderful.

So do you.

You put on a little weight.

Looks good.

Yes, well, it feels terrible.

I've--I've almost called you several times,

but this is too important.

I need to talk to you about Jason.

Hello? Anybody here?

That was the Second Piano Concerto by Rachmaninoff

played by the London Symphony Orchestra,

Walter Goehr conducting.

And now, the news.

Prominent San Francisco attorney Truman Calloway

was found dead in his office this morning,

the victim of what police are calling a brutal murder.

Calloway had been working alone in his office last night

when the killing apparently took place.

Good morning, Rhoda.

Good morning. You've got company.

At this hour?

- Amy Sue. - Amy Sue?

I thought that was all wrapped up.

So did I.

- You sure got a way about you, boss. - Hmm!

I'll hold your calls.

So thoughtful.

You're so welcome.

It's my husband, Ed.

I think he killed Truman Calloway.

- Tell me what happened. - I don't know.

I mean, I'm not sure.

I-I just can't believe any of this.

Ed's got a temper sure, but...

I just don't believe he could do it.

Well, what makes you think he did?

Because he said he would.

I was home alone last night in bed reading,

when I heard him pull up outside.

Amy Sue!

Next thing I knew, he was pounding at my door

screaming my name so all the neighbors could hear.

He was drunk.

So I yelled down at him.

Ed, go away!

You're gonna wake the neighborhood.

We got to talk.

There is nothing to talk about.

Amy Sue, I love you.

You're drunk.

This is just plain stupid, you know that?

You up there and me down here...

How'd this happen, baby?

Ed, don't start.

You know how it happened.

Well, it's that lawyer. It's his fault.

If you hadn't hired that lousy lawyer, you and me, we'd still be together.

He made you do it, didn't he?

No.

The hell he didn't!

Shh, keep your voice down!

I'm gonna find that miserable slime ball and I'm gonna kill him.

Ed, Ed, come back here!

Ed, don't you do anything stupid.

Ed!

Ed!

Something stupid, all right.

As soon as I heard it on the news this morning,

I called his office, but the police had been there.

They arrested him, Mr. Stanton.

Yes, well, it's a terrible situation.

I'm afraid to go down there myself.

I mean, I don't know what to say.

And I thought you, being an experienced person

in this type of matter, you might be able to talk to him.

Well, yes, I suppose.

But you see, actually, Mrs. Kriegler, it is none of my business.

But you did say, "Anything I can do."

Yes, I did say that, in an offhand sort of way.

Here's the statement from a witness

who saw the suspect entering the building last night about 9:30.

And here's a forensic report matching the blood on the doorjamb

with the victim's,

and a fingerprint found at the scene

matching the suspect's.

And we're checking out a report

that the suspect publicly threatened the victim

in a drunken argument with his wife about an hour before the murder occurred.

Now, if there's anything else you need, just let me know.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

You have been so helpful.

Are you sure you don't need these back?

Oh, no, those are just copies.

If you need any more, just let me know.

Well, on behalf of Cayuga Life and Casualty,

thanks again, Lieutenant. You have been just terrific.

My pleasure, Miss McPhee.

Yes?

Lieutenant, this is Brady down at the desk.

I have a guy here who wants to see you by the name of... uh, excuse me,

- What was your name again, sir? - Stanton. Dennis Stanton.

Stanton, sir.

Dennis Stanton.

Uh, he says it's about the Calloway homicide.

I don't have time to waste with insurance people.

Tell him to write me a letter.

He suggests you contact him by mail, sir.

Oh, does he?

Stanton.

Marcia McPhee.

I can hardly believe it.

I thought you were surgically attached to your New York office.

And I thought you would be in jail by now.

Come to give yourself up for something, have you?

This may come as depressing news, dear heart, but as fate would have it,

you and I find ourselves in the same line of business.

You?

Some insurance company hired you as a claims investigator?

It's a condition of my probation.

There are times when I think prison would be preferable.

No arguments from me.

So you're here on a case.

Well, in a roundabout way.

The Calloway killing.

I'm trying to get in to see the suspect.

Kriegler.

He didn't do it.

Oh, that's nice. Who did?

His first wife.

She's a beneficiary on 1/4 mil policy.

If you can prove that, it would certainly simplify my life.

Oh, I can prove it, all right.

I've already got the big picture, I just need to fill in the blanks.

Marcia, um, it's been far too long since you and I reminisced

about the good old days.

Let me buy you lunch.

I know this marvelous little Italian place.

Forget it, Stanton. There is no way you are horning in on my action.

Even if I needed the help, which I don't.

I was only trying to be sociable.

Yes, that I do remember from the good old days.

Do me a favor?

Stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours.

Okay, okay.

So I drove over to see him.

Not very smart, in the condition I was in.

No, it wasn't.

I just wanted to punch his lights out.

When I got there, he was already dead.

I swear to God.

I walked into his office, he was lying on the floor facedown.

I kneeled down, turned him over.

I guess that's when I got blood on my hand.

When I saw what had happened, I felt sick. I backed off.

I must have touched the doorway on my way out.

Oh, I was drunk all right,

but not so drunk I was about to call the cops.

I see.

What time was this?

10:30, 11:00, maybe.

It's the truth.

Do you have a good attorney?

My company lawyer, he's finding me somebody.

Anyway, you said something about a release form

you wanted me to sign?

Oh, it can wait.

I thought that's why you wanted to see me.

No, actually, I'm here at the request of your wife, Mr. Kriegler.

She's very worried about you.

Ex-wife.

Yes, well, there's something else you should know.

She strongly believes in your innocence.

That's quite a lady you had there.

It's a pity the way things worked out.

I'll be in touch.

Time's up. Let's go.

Yes, yes.

I'm afraid your husband is there, Mrs. Hammersmith.

I spoke to the private detective last night.

I caught him just as he was going to supper.

Uh, look, Mrs. Hammersmith, I really can't discuss this right now.

I will add his report to the files

and have them shipped to your new attorney as soon as you retain one.

Yes, thank you.

We are all going to miss Mr. Calloway.

Yes, he was a wonderful man.

Goodbye.

- Good afternoon. May I help you? - Well, I hope so, Miss... Davies?

Karen Davies. That's Ms.

Ms.

I was Mr. Calloway's secretary.

Yes, and I'm very sorry.

Not half as much as I am, Mr...?

Stanton. Dennis Stanton.

I'm with the insurance company.

Forgive me, but that gentleman who just left...

I know I've met him somewhere.

I hope not in the courtroom.

Joseph Briscoe.

Oh, yes, the attorney.

Here to extend his condolences, I suppose?

Are you working with Miss McPhee, Mr. Stanton?

Well, as a matter of fact, we just chatted about the case

about an hour ago down at police headquarters.

She mentioned something about Mr. Calloway's first wife.

Charmaine.

Yes, Charmaine flew into town early yesterday

all the way from Milwaukee.

She hadn't seen Truman in over 20 years,

and all of a sudden, she pops up and he winds up dead,

and she is in line to inherit $1/4 million.

A very funny coincidence, wouldn't you say?

Staggering.

Though I suspect over the years

Mr. Calloway probably incurred the wrath of a great many people.

Incensed ex-husbands, for example.

Is there something I can do for you?

Uh, well, for starters,

I don't suppose Mr. Calloway had an appointment

with someone last night?

Not that I know of.

I left around 6:30 and he was in his office working alone.

I see.

Then how about a list of all the people

he was in contact with, say, 48 hours before his death.

I gave this list to Miss McPhee.

So you did.

But unfortunately, her purse was stolen

just as she was leaving police headquarters.

The audacity of thieves these days is unbelievable.

Anyway, she asked me to stop by and collect a duplicate.

Thank you, Ms. Davies.

There are 17 names on this list.

Rhoda, dear, I don't want their life stories.

Just find out all you can about their activities

for the past couple of days.

Listen, just in case I'm asked,

does this come under the heading of "official company business"?

Of course.

But it isn't even our case.

No, but Ed Kriegler is.

As far as Mr. Butler's concerned

the man flatly refuses to sign the release form while he remains in jail.

You see my predicament?

For the good of the company, I have to pursue this.

Dennis, you got to stop being a sucker for a pretty face.

I'll try and remember that, next time you hit me up for a raise.

He was having lunch with a man named Briscoe,

also a lawyer.

A real bad-news guy.

Yes, I've run across him a couple of times.

And you say Briscoe threatened Mr. Calloway?

Yeah and he meant it too.

Briscoe's an ex-cop.

Got his degree in night school.

He eats here a lot.

Thanks, Ernie.

If President Jackson's got a twin brother, I can give you chapter two.

Chapter two.

See that woman over there? The one who's just leaving?

Calloway's ex-wife.

When Briscoe left, she walked up to the table.

He sure was surprised to see her.

Oh, really.

And they talked about?

Wouldn't know, it got busy.

Exquisite pair of gloves.

I hate to interrupt your lunch, ladies, but may I ask a very special favor?

Hello.

Excuse me, you left your gloves on the table.

Those aren't my gloves.

Oh, I was sure that was the table you were seated at.

I couldn't help but notice an attractive woman eating alone.

What a silly mistake. I do apologize.

No harm done.

You must be new to our city.

The food in that place is terribly overpriced

and the quality, marginal at best.

Really? I ate there yesterday. I enjoyed it so much, I came back today.

Still, I could name you at least a dozen restaurants

where the culinary arts have been raised

to staggering heights.

This is San Francisco, after all.

Excuse me, shouldn't you be returning those gloves?

Well, there's no rush, Mrs. Calloway.

Ah, you know who I am.

Now I am disappointed.

It's been years since anyone actually tried to pick me up.

I find that difficult to believe.

Actually, there is a reason behind this subterfuge.

Can we chat about it over a cappuccino?

Ah!

Ah, Miss McPhee, I presume.

How did you know it was me?

Braille.

Funny.

Did you find what you were looking for?

If not, I'd be happy to help out.

From you, Marcia, I have no secrets.

No?

Then what were you doing with Charmaine Calloway

outside Madeo's restaurant this afternoon?

Who were you trailing, her or me?

Just answer the question.

Well, to put it crudely,

I was pumping her for information.

Would you like a brandy?

- No, thank you. - White wine perhaps?

No.

At least sit down and stop fidgeting.

You do want to know what we discussed don't you?

Ah.

Now, were you aware that she had

a lunchtime conversation at Madeo's yesterday

with her late husband?

So she did go see him? I knew it!

Yes, they had quite a chat about a very personal matter.

I need to talk to you about Jason.

Well, I've told you, Charmaine,

I have no wish to talk about that young man.

You're still so jealous after 25 years.

I'm not gonna be responsible, financially or otherwise,

for another man's son.

Years ago you made a choice, Charmaine.

Have the guts to accept it.

I didn't leave you for another man.

I left you because your career was the only thing in your life.

There wasn't any room for me, let alone children.

That's why I went back to Milwaukee.

I didn't even meet Bill for six months after that.

He didn't even have the decency to marry you.

He disappeared one day leaving you with, what, a four-month-old son?

He didn't just disappear.

His newspaper sent him to Vietnam to cover the war.

One day he accompanied a patrol into the hills

and none of them...

were seen or heard from again.

I'm sorry. I didn't know that.

And as for marrying me,

I wasn't about to make that mistake.

I gave Jason Bill Thompson's name

out of love and respect.

And I'm very proud of the way he's turned out.

It's a shame you haven't met him.

Nor do I intend to.

And I certainly don't intend to pay for his way through medical school.

God, Charmaine, whatever put a ridiculous idea like that in your head?

Have you forgotten who worked three years

at two different jobs so that you could get through law school?

Oh, I see.

It's payback time?

Call it that if you will.

I haven't asked very much of you, but I'm asking you now.

Jason is a brilliant young man who deserves a future.

No.

You owe me that much.

I don't owe you a thing.

Not a thing.

You left me when I needed you.

You went back home.

You had another man's son, a son you should have given me.

You made your choice, Charmaine.

You live with it.

And that was the last time Charmaine Calloway

saw her ex-husband alive.

Except for those moments just before she killed him.

I seriously doubt that.

Oh, please, Stanton.

Don't you see? You have given me the missing piece,

the motive.

Why now, after all these years, would she kill him?

For the kid.

But she was in her hotel room last evening, from 9:00 onward.

Oh, and she's got witnesses to prove this.

Don't let your libido get in the way of your good judgment, amigo.

Nice women have turned into axe murderers when their children are involved.

This woman is no exception.

All right, all right.

For the moment, let's assume that I'm wrong and you're right.

Now, that leaves you with a major problem, Ed Kriegler.

Lieutenant Catalano has slammed the cell door shut

and tossed away the key.

This won't be the first time I've proven a cop wrong.

Marcia, since we share the same objective,

proving Ed Kriegler innocent,

what do you say we join forces?

Hmm?

With you? You've got to be kidding.

On the contrary, I'm totally serious.

Stanton, it will be a cold day in the Congo

when I join forces with a second-story man.

Oh.

Like I said before,

you stay out of my face, I'll stay out of yours.

Mr. Stanton.

Mr. Briscoe.

You know my name. Good. It will save lots of time.

Oh, please, come in.

I'd offer you some breakfast, but I've just finished.

Let's not waste a lot of time, Mr. Stanton.

You've been asking questions about me regarding Calloway's murder.

I don't like it.

I'm sorry about that, but you made yourself a suspect

when you threatened him publicly.

Listen, I worked as a cop for 18 years.

You, pal, work for an insurance company.

Homicide is out of your league.

I think that's for me to decide.

I'm warning you.

You quit poking around.

You're a visitor in this house, Mr. Briscoe.

Please don't do that.

What, this?

I'm trying to get through to you, you understand me?

Ah!

I did ask you nicely.

And by the way, there's a nasty lump under your coat.

Didn't your mother tell you it's dangerous to play with guns?

I got a permit for that.

Not in my house, you don't.

Now, we were discussing the murder of Truman Calloway.

I didn't kill him.

You didn't waste any time going to his office

the morning after the murder.

May I ask why?

That's none of your business.

How do these things work?

I have the worst time with pistols.

Hey, take it easy with that thing.

Nearly shot myself in the foot once.

You were saying?

Okay, okay.

I went to see Calloway's squeeze, that bimbo that works in his office.

Her name is Karen, his between-marriage snack.

Anyway, I was trying to steer some action to this lawyer I know.

Oh, I see.

A friend of yours who would politely cooperate and let you win.

Something like that?

Business is business.

The dumb broad told me to get lost.

Then I'd say she's not so dumb.

What did you mean by a "between-marriage snack"?

Just what I said.

Between wives, she was his action.

It's not like that was any big news or anything.

It is to me.

Well, thanks so much, Mr. Briscoe.

And should you call again,

leave your friend at home.

That's right. Miss Perkins from the zoo.

Yes, well,

we found a wallet yesterday in the lake with the polar bears.

And it's awfully waterlogged and all,

but as best we can make out, it belongs to a man named Pendergast.

Out of town?

Are you sure about that?

Since last Tuesday.

It's ok. The wallet wasn't his.

Sorry to bother you.

Excellent, Rhoda.

You have a wonderful gift for deceit if you ever decide to switch careers.

Thanks, Dennis, but if I ever

go to another Tarzan movie, it'll be too soon.

Did you come up with anything interesting?

Mostly zip,

except for the little man who wasn't there.

Uh, or rather he was there, but he isn't there now.

Try that in my good ear, I think I missed something.

A guy named Johnny Trixler,

a young beach boy type according to the secretary.

He had an appointment with Calloway the morning of the day he was killed.

He claimed to be married to a Wisconsin cheese heiress

named Greenleaf.

Greenleaf? Greenleaf.

Don't strain your brain.

There is no such lady, no such cheese company,

and no such guy as Johnny Trixler.

His address was a phony, so was his phone number,

and the hotel where he said he was staying never heard of him.

Odd. Wisconsin, you say?

Wisconsin, he said.

What--what is it?

I'm not sure.

Just a thought.

Plenty of coffee--

Just a minute.

Yes. Yes, all right. Thank you.

Jason, for heaven's sakes, what are you doing here?

I came to see my favorite girl.

How are you, Mom?

I'm fine.

But I thought you had finals.

No, not till next week.

But I called home a couple days ago,

and Aunt Tess said you had come out here to see him.

I had to.

You didn't have to.

We didn't need him then and we certainly have no use for him now.

- Then you heard? - Yeah, it was all over TV this morning.

I caught the first flight out of O'Hare I could.

Got in about an hour ago.

You know, it's funny how things work.

All those years and not a word from the guy,

and now all of a sudden you're going to have enough money

to live like a queen the rest of your life.

Rhoda!

Are you sure this thing is working?

That fax machine is set and ready to receive.

Well, how long can it take our Chicago office

to locate one photograph?

First, they have to go to the university,

then they have to contact the Dean, and...

You know, if you don't mind my saying so,

I think you're going for a three-pointer from mid-court.

Why, because I think Johnny Trixler

and Charmaine's son, Jason Thompson, are one and the same?

They have the same initials, big deal.

Well, Johnny Trixler also claimed to be engaged

to a Wisconsin cheese heiress who, as it turns out, doesn't exist.

But Wisconsin does.

And where do Charmaine and her son reside?

Milwaukee.

More coincidence.

It's like I said, it's a Hail Mary from the end zone.

Here it comes.

Ah!

Incredible.

Such an innocent face, don't you think?

I don't know.

There's something in the eyes.

Well, dear heart, with any luck, I'm off to save the company $85,000.

Paperwork to follow.

If you need me, I'm gonna stop by the lawyer's office,

then, to the lady's hotel, where, with any luck,

I hope to intrude on a family reunion.

I talked to the registrar at Hopkins.

They still have the opening for September.

All we have to do is send a check by next Wednesday.

Come on, Mom, I can get into med school. I thought you'd be excited.

I am, Jason. It's wonderful.

It's--it's just so awful that it had to happen this way.

You're not gonna tell me you still cared for that money-hungry jerk?

You have no right to say that.

You didn't even know him.

You talked about him enough.

I've read the newspapers.

Anyway, that insurance policy is part of your divorce settlement.

You're entitled to the money.

She certainly is.

Mr. Stanton.

Hello again, Mrs. Calloway.

This must be your son I've heard so much about.

May I join you?

Dennis Stanton, Mr. Thompson...

Or is it Trixler?

I meet so many people,

I find it hard to keep them sorted out.

I don't believe anyone invited you to sit down, Mr. Stanton.

Jason, don't be rude.

No, not rude, Mrs. Calloway. Self-protective.

Does your mother know what you've been up to?

I somehow suspect she doesn't,

in which case, one of us had better explain

before you go to the police.

Police?

What are you talking about?

Jason?

What's going on here?

On the day he was killed, your ex-husband consulted

with a prospective client named Johnny Trixler,

who was seeking a divorce from a nonexistent heiress.

The secretary identified this photo.

Okay, so I flew in a couple days ago.

Come on, Mom, I knew you were gonna beg him

for the money to put me through med school.

I just wanted to find out for myself

what the creep was like without him knowing who I was.

Well, why didn't you tell me?

Because he ended up dead, that's why.

You know how it looks, don't you?

I mean, why else is he here?

Why else indeed?

- Did you kill him? - No!

The police may think otherwise.

What a ridiculous idea.

I'm afraid not.

Your son certainly had a motive, he may even have had opportunity.

Or do you have an alibi for the time he was killed?

Mom, I swear to God, I didn't kill him.

Do you want me to take a lie detector test or something?

You may have your chance.

Excuse me, Stanton. I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch.

No bother, Lieutenant.

Mr. Thompson,

I'm Lieutenant Catalano, San Francisco Police.

I wonder if you'd mind coming with us, sir?

I've got a few questions I'd like to ask you.

Yeah, sure.

Jason.

I'll be okay, Mom.

Mrs. Calloway, maybe you could join us. I've got a few questions for you too.

You, I don't need.

Well, did I call it, Stanton?

Very nice work, Miss McPhee.

You were right behind me.

Actually, I was right ahead of you,

but I stopped to call in the police.

What can I say?

Well, you might try "thank you,"

since my investigation got your Mr. Kriegler off the griddle.

Thank you, Marcia.

I just wish I shared your unswerving certainty

of Mr. Thompson's guilt.

Dennis, please.

This is dead-bang, open-and-shut.

Maybe one of these days we'll sit down over a drink

and I'll explain it all to you,

now that I've been transferred here to the San Francisco office.

Have you?

Well, I suppose that means we'll be seeing a lot of each other.

Not if I can help it.

Bye.

Hey, how'd it go?

Oh, predictably.

Marcia McPhee and Lieutenant Catalano were 20 minutes behind me.

By now, young Mr. Thompson should be looking for a good lawyer.

Excuse me, would you like to see the paper?

Oh, I just want this piece about Hammersmith, thank you.

Oh, yeah, Mr. Oil Baron?

He's a real sweetheart of a guy.

Honolulu police just locked him up

for trying to turn a Waikiki nightclub into a war zone.

Oh, Honolulu...

"Jerome Hammersmith was arrested

shortly before midnight, along with his companion..."

Dennis, what is it?

You've got that look on your face.

Indeed I do, Rhoda.

Unless I'm terribly mistaken,

Miss McPhee is in for a very rude disappointment.

Hello again.

Mr. Stanton.

Back so soon.

I came to say thank you.

That photo you identified,

you'll be pleased to know that the young man

has been placed under arrest for your employer's murder.

I'm glad I could help.

Packing up?

Well, there's nothing left to do.

And I am a working girl out of work,

so I suppose it's time to get on with it.

I suppose it will be difficult.

You worked for Mr. Calloway for a great many years, I understand.

More than I care to admit, Mr. Stanton, but they were good times.

I was very happy here.

Even during his marriages?

I admire your forbearance.

And what is that supposed to mean?

It must have been difficult for you, watching him enter into a series

of unfortunate marriages,

while you were in love with him.

That is not true!

Our relationship was professional.

Nothing more.

This latest fling of his must have been particularly galling.

Miss Joyce Templeton, an obvious fortune hunter.

When you realized that he planned to marry her,

it was probably too much for you to bear.

If you will excuse me...

He must've told you his decision in the office that night.

In a rage, you picked up the letter opener and stabbed him.

This is ridiculous.

I told you, I was not here.

I left around 6:30.

The police say Mr. Calloway was killed

around 9:30 or 10:00.

That is true.

But you were here, Miss Davies.

Do you remember the first time I came to this office?

You were talking to a client, Mrs. Hammersmith.

I spoke to the private detective last night, Mrs. Hammersmith.

I caught him just as he was going to supper.

Yes, I'm afraid your husband is there.

Your private detective had Mr. Hammersmith under surveillance in Hawaii, Miss Davies.

Now, people in Hawaii do a lot of exotic things in the mid-afternoon,

scuba diving, surfing, even pearl diving.

But supper at 3:00?

Hardly.

But if, as you said on the phone,

he'd been going to supper,

it must have been, say, 6:00 Honolulu time,

which is 9:00 San Francisco time.

You see my point, don't you?

I haven't yet had a chance to check phone records,

but I believe they will bear out my contention.

You are wrong, Mr. Stanton, and I'm going to prove it.

Miss Davies, I'll be very disappointed in you

if I find a gun in this purse.

Very disappointed indeed, Miss Davies.

I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Stanton.

You sure saved my hide.

Well, I'd hate to lose a valued client, Mr. Kriegler.

Chalk it up as good business.

Well, I'm afraid I haven't been much of a client.

By the way, where's that waiver you wanted me to sign?

It's right here.

Uh, use my back.

Well, goodbye.

I'm sure you can grab a cab.

- Can't I buy you lunch or something? - No, no, no. Sorry.

Rhoda and I have to discuss business with Lieutenant Catalano.

Good luck.

Well, thanks again.

Ed.

You are about as tough as marshmallow pie.

Ah, did you ever read Henry VI, Part Two, Rhoda?

Uh, no, I must've missed that one.

Act four, Scene two,

Dick the butcher says, "The first thing we do,

let's kill all the lawyers."

Now, do you think Shakespeare had those two in mind when he wrote that?

Ah.