All language subtitles for MrSWr3E22.Murder.She.Spoke.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Surely you can't believe it was one of us?

Who more capable of operating in the dark than a blind man?

- Oh, for God's sakes. - That's ridiculous.

Why don't you go home

and start one of your special bubble baths?

Like they say in those bus commercials,

why don't you just sit back and leave the driving to us?

But this time they even got the cover.

They're even using our publicity to sell their pirated tapes.

He accused me of sellin' Stoney's tapes.

♪ Standing on the edge of nowhere ♪

♪ Waiting for a train ♪

♪ Silver dollar in his pocket ♪

♪ Lucky is his name ♪

♪ Nothing but a cardboard suitcase ♪

♪ Guitar for a friend ♪

♪ Sleeps out underneath the stars ♪

♪ And serenades the wind ♪

♪ Everybody calls him Lucky ♪

♪ They think freedom has no chains ♪

♪ Drifting like a tumbleweed ♪

♪ A new town every day ♪

♪ He prays that someday his luck will change ♪

♪ He ain't got a woman to his name ♪

The body was discovered by Edie Babish

on November 2, at 3:30 in the afternoon.

She knew it was 3:30

because she was late returning from her marketing.

She checked her watch in the elevator,

bothered that dinner wouldn't be ready.

Nothing fancy.

Just her husband's favorite; stuffed cabbage,

but it took at least four hours.

She was equally certain about the location of the body.

The man's throat had been slit,

and he was making a dreadful mess

all over her freshly scrubbed kitchen floor.

Mrs. Fletcher? Excuse me.

Would you take two steps back, please?

Your voice is just a little bit too authoritative.

You mean too loud?

How's this?

It had not been Edie's day.

That's perfect, ma'am. That's your mark.

Uh... I'm sorry to bring this up,

but I, I can't read the manuscript from back here.

Ah, emergency procedure number 483.

That okay?

All right, Mrs. Dalton, we're ready to roll.

Uh, I'd like to give Greg another minute or two,

if that's all right.

He and Randy Witworth were having dinner, but they should have been finished by now.

♪ He ain't got a woman to his name ♪

♪ Lucky lost it all Lost it all in Santa Fe ♪

♪ He ain't got a woman to his name ♪

Gold. Pure gold, guys.

Heck, Al, you'd say the Partridge family was platinum if it'd get us out of here.

Play it back for us.

Stoney, my man, we gotta get that retake in tonight

if we're gonna deliver this album on time.

Al, my man, I got all the time in the world.

Save me from comeback cons.

Okay, Earl, let's go.

Jessica, I'll stay here in the studio with you.

Try to forget that there's a microphone in front of you.

Sorry to be late, Mrs. Fletcher.

- I'm Greg Dalton. - Oh, saved by the producer.

I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this.

I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just had to meet you before we started.

Well, it's my pleasure.

I can't tell you how much I admire what you're doing here.

Hi, sweetheart.

I'm sorry you missed our barbecue bec--

The stand must have sprouted legs.

Oh, don't take it out on the stand, Mr. Dalton.

I'm the culprit, I'm afraid.

Me and my authoritative voice.

Well, now, listen. Where were we?

Yeah, I was about to kiss my wife.

Oh, that's nice.

A strange metallic aftertaste, but that's not bad.

By the way, I'm also very sorry, Mrs. Fletcher,

about this evening session,

but it's the only time we seem to be able to get this studio.

Oh, I think that mystery stories

should be read in the dark of the night, don't you?

You know, it's interesting.

It's always the dark of the night to me.

Cheryl!

- Haven't you gone home yet? - No.

I was just waiting for you to come back from dinner.

Oh, you didn't have to do that.

Of course not, Sir.

Your wife called several times.

She said it was urgent.

Margaret just can't get enough of me.

Oh, and Stoney Carmichael called.

He said it's very important.

- He needs to see you. - Hmm.

Every day he's sounding more like the old Stoney Carmichael.

Oh, and here's the check for Mr. Anglin.

He'll be here at 8:30.

And out of here by 8:40 for good.

Well, what are you still doing here?

Isn't it past your bedtime?

Good night, Sir.

♪ Your heart, your heart ♪

♪ There she goes ♪

♪ Whoa, she likes them heroes... ♪

- Stay here, Sal. - Stoney, quit treatin' me like a kid.

Honey, you are a kid.

I got to learn about this business if I'm gonna be a singer.

Okay, first rule is, take care of your band.

Go get these boys some sodas.

- Sounds great, Stoney. - Better than it does on this?

- What the hell is this? - Found that at a swap meet.

They were chargin' 20 bucks for it.

This time they even got the cover.

I don't believe this.

They're even using our publicity to sell their pirated tapes.

Stoney, I told you there was a risk in pushing back the release date.

Yeah, yeah.

This is cash out of my pocket, too.

Well, let me tell you something, Randy. I got me a uptown lawyer,

and he tells me

if I can prove these bootlegs are coming out of this studio,

it'll, uh-- what was the word he used?

Nullify my contract.

I know how you feel, Stoney.

You've been waiting a long time for this.

But, man, I'm your friend.

You want out of this contract, all you have to do is say so.

Oh, sure, repay all your expenses

plus 50 percent of any future contract I come up with.

Nobody held a gun to your head to sign the contract

when I found you in the dive in Waco.

Well, somebody got me mighty drunk.

I guess I'll even be billed for the liquor too, huh?

Al, the truth. What do you know about this?

Hey, man, this is your studio.

You know how loose it was before you beefed up security.

Anybody could've come in here and dubbed those masters.

Stoney Carmichael is my ticket to the top floor.

I'm not gonna let some bootlegger try to ruin it for me.

Nobody'd mistake her for a rhythm and blues girl.

That's the last book for the bleeding blind

you're gonna catch out of here.

Thanks for being here, Mrs. Fletcher.

This is such an important series.

Oh, you're right, Mr. Witworth.

Not nearly enough books are pub...

Earl, my boy, we need to have a little chat.

Just a note of insincerity.

A note? Sounded more like a full-blown symphony to me.

Well, I'm afraid, you see,

that this is the last of the Mystery Books for the blind to be recorded here.

- Oh. - What?

Greg, why didn't you say something when you first arr--

That's why Randy took me out to dinner.

But, can't you take the series to another company?

That'll be tough.

This isn't exactly a moneymaking proposition.

- I can't say I blame him. - I can.

Nancy, don't.

I'm not gonna let him get away with this.

I said no!

Perhaps this isn't the best time to approach Mr. Witworth.

One of your works of art?

Margaret, you scared the hell out of me.

Not exactly music to a newlywed's ears.

God, you look great.

How'd you get in?

Your secretary. On her way out.

She works quite late, doesn't she?

And don't you think I should have a key of my own,

seeing as I am footing the bill for this little takeover?

Margaret, you're being silly. I told you I'd be home late.

And, of course, you can have a key.

I just have to settle this business with Carl first.

Listen, tell you what.

Why don't you go home

and start one of your special bubble baths?

Actually, sweaty palms turn me on.

Ten o'clock. Meet you at the tub.

Why do I get the feeling that you're rushing me off?

It's just that Carl should be here any minute,

and I might not wait for that bath.

Good.

I'd hate to think that you only wanted me for my mind.

Or one of those other "M" words like... money?

But what really bothered Mrs. Babish was

that the body was dressed in her only fromal gown.

"Fromal gown"? Oh, my goodness.

I'm sorry. That's my typing.

There's no problem, ma'am.

We'll just pick it up at the beginning of the paragraph, all right?

I'll be right back.

Mrs. Fletcher, in three, two...

♪ Well, she's an ordinary girl With an ordinary name... ♪

Randy, you wanted to hear the new tracks?

♪ An ordinary job for a minimum wage A little... ♪

What the--

Oh, come on.

Randy, there goes the power again.

That's the third time this month.

We can't have blackouts like this in the middle of sessions.

You and Carl gotta get some people in here who know what they're doing.

- It's bad for the equipment. - The electricians were just here.

This has happened before, Jessica, just stay put.

Well, where are you going? Wouldn't it be safer to--

I know my way around.

I'll see if I can find the circuit breaker.

Hello? What's going on in here?

What happened to the damn lights?

♪ Well, she goes to Church on Sunday... ♪

Well, let there be music.

♪ Everybody... ♪

- Randy? - Help!

Randy, are you okay?

Somebody.

Oh, God. I'm hurt.

It's Randy! Something's wrong with Randy!

- What is it? What's wrong? - Something about Randy.

Help... me.

Oh, good Lord. Uh, call, call an ambulance.

Stabbed... me.

Stabbed you? Who stabbed you?

Somebody... in the dark.

Lieu-- Lieutenant Faraday, Police Department.

Will he make it?

Did you see who did this to you?

Dark. Too dark.

Stay with me, now. Come on, stay with me.

- Tell me what happened. - Al. Al on phone.

Okay, good. Good, you were on the phone with Al.

Lights out. Pain... back.

Surely you can't believe it was one of us?

The front door was locked.

No one came in except Mr. Anglin.

Now, I do not want you to worry your pretty little head about this.

I'm going to have officers here to protect you every second.

Excuse me, uh, Lieutenant.

I'm sure that you have already figured

that if there was somebody already in the office with Mr. Witworth

when the blackout occurred,

they could easily have left, and no one would have noticed.

I mean, it was very confusing out here, you know, after the lights came on.

Uh-huh, it's still a little confusing now, isn't it, ma'am?

Tell you what.

Like they say in those bus commercials,

why don't you just sit back and leave the driving to us?

Someone must have thrown the switch, come in here and--

But how? Place was pitch dark.

- Flashlight? - No. Victim would have seen it.

Excuse me, Lieutenant Faraday?

Mr. Dalton, here, says that he heard--

Mrs. Fletcher, the sergeant here tells me that you're a mystery writer.

Uh, yes. As I was saying--

Oh, I think writing is a real good hobby for a woman.

You can cook up some supper. You can chat on the phone.

Then pop over to the old typewriter now and then for a few minutes.

Yes. When I'm not too busy beating the laundry

against the rocks in the river.

Oh, I bet your books are charming.

Thank you.

I was trying to tell you Mr. Dalton heard something.

But then, of course, real murder is anything but charming.

And solving it requires patience, strength.

- Ah, man's work. - Right.

I think I'd better say something here.

Lieutenant, Mrs. Fletcher thought that something I heard in the hallway

might be important... if you're interested.

Well, of course, sometimes...

sometimes the ladies have real good hunches.

So, what happened?

I was standing at the drinking fountain taking a pill,

I have a circulation problem in my leg,

when I heard somebody run past me and something drop.

Now, that thing could have been a knife.

So, this happened while the lights were out?

I'm afraid I don't know.

What do you mean, "You don't know"?

The sunny Spain and the black hole of Calcutta

are the same to me, Lieutenant. I'm blind.

Well, I'm sorry to hear that.

You certainly seem to get around pretty good.

Thank you. I can also chew gum at the same time.

- Don't you use a cane? - Not if I can help it.

I don't need one around familiar places.

I'm sure the cleaning lady will get that stain.

And, yes, Mrs. Fletcher, I noticed it too. Paint.

- Monet Mauve. - Come again?

A Monet Mauve is a very expensive nail polish,

Lieutenant,

and the bottle is right here.

Could I trouble you for your pocket handkerchief, please?

- Of course, ma'am. - Thank you.

I tell you what. Why don't you take that as a souvenir on your way home?

It's awful late for a lady to be out alone.

Lieutenant, nail polish dries very fast.

The stain on the floor is still damp,

which means that this bottle was dropped very recently.

So, you're saying that some woman, who likes expensive nail polish,

came in here and stabbed Mr. Witworth?

Kind of a jump, don't you think, ma'am?

I merely said that this bottle was dropped very recently.

But, yes, I do think it would be a good idea

to find out who it belongs to.

Leave it to a woman to find nail polish.

Dusted?

Hello. Mm-hmm. Okay.

Mr. Witworth was D.O.A. at the hospital.

We're now looking for a murderer.

Lieutenant, you can't seal off the studio.

Save your breath, Mr. Anglin.

No one goes in or out of here until things are settled up.

Uh, if you're through being searched, ma'am, you're free to go.

Just don't--

You're not gonna tell us we can't leave town.

That's a good idea.

I wasn't even in the studio when Randy was killed.

I got a business meeting in Nashville.

Sorry.

By the way, I think Officer Cooper's ready for you right now.

Lieutenant, I have got a red-eye.

Oh, ma'am, I sure hate to make you miss a canasta game,

but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to stay.

I know that.

I just would like to use a telephone to cancel my passage,

but I didn't want to use a phone that hadn't been, uh...

oh, how do you, official men, call it, dusted?

Lieutenant? I think we've found the murder weapon.

Push.

That must be what Mr. Dalton heard drop.

- You're a great pace-man, Jessica. - Thanks.

Just don't let Lieutenant Faraday hear you say that.

Oh, rough ground ahead.

I know. It's my usual route.

Oh, I do admire you, Greg.

You certainly don't miss out on anything.

Since the car accident, you know what I keep telling myself?

That you won't let it stop you.

And I haven't. Bum-leg or not.

Well, you've certainly made an incredible adjustment

in a comparatively short space of time.

The human body's an amazing mechanism.

You lose one sense, and the others pick up the slack.

Coffee... at 100 yards!

Jogging, what a way to ruin a beautiful morning.

How about some eggs before those arteries get too clear?

Oh, thanks. That would be lovely.

Here, honey, let me do this.

- That's okay. I've already started. - And I'll finish it.

You know, I want to thank you both for letting me stay here.

Please, it's the least we could do with you forced to stick around.

I'll get it. I'll get it. I'll get it.

Hello?

Carl! Yes, good to hear from you.

But, Carl, it's not like we're--

Carl, look, why don't you take some time to-to...

All right, Carl. All right. All right. Good-bye.

He canceled Mystery Books, didn't he?

Does he have the power to do that?

I guess he must have.

I'm not so sure.

Don't let's talk figures, Stoney.

Point is, Red River Studios wants to be a part of your future.

Oh, sure, you can get back to me.

You take care now, you hear?

Always a pleasure doing business with an artist.

My husband used to love Stoney Carmichael,

but I'm afraid I lean more towards Eddy Arnold.

Yeah, that comeback album's gonna go through the roof when it's released.

Oh, you mean it isn't out?

I thought I saw a cassette in Mr. Witworth's office.

No, no. Bootleg.

Afraid that's one of the reasons ol' Stoney wants out.

Randy wouldn't do business with him,

but me, I mean heck, I'm a businessman

who's got an obligation to run a profitable company.

Carl, there's no reason the Mystery Books couldn't make money

if they were marketed properly.

Greg, my boy, Randy kept you on as a favor.

Now, I know it, and you know it.

But, see, I don't got a favor owing you. What I do got is folks countin' on me.

Uh, Mr. Anglin, I'm assuming

that you inherited Mr. Witworth's portion of the business,

or you wouldn't be making decisions of this kind.

Well, I, uh, I am in the process of acquiring it.

Oh, I'm sorry... I must be confused.

Last night in Mr. Witworth's office,

I happened to see a cashier's check

made out to you for a sizable amount of money,

and it was attached to a contract transferring the ownership.

A lot's changed since last night.

Yes, I can see that.

- What's he doing here? - Who?

Lieutenant Faraday.

Probably wants to ask some more questions.

Why? There's nothing more we can tell him.

Mrs. Fletcher... Mrs. Dalton.

Lieutenant, unless you have a warrant--

Come on, Nancy. We've got nothing to hide.

As a matter of fact, ma'am.

I'm sorry I snapped at you.

This whole thing has gotten me... well, you know.

I'll get some coffee.

Mr. Dalton... I understand that you had a barbecue

here at the house a couple of days ago?

Most everybody from the studio attended, right?

If you'll excuse me, I'll give Nancy a hand with the coffee.

Jessica!

Nancy, Lieutenant Faraday isn't stupid.

- He'll look in the dryer, too. - What do you mean?

I suppose the others from the set are in there, too?

One of our knives is missing,

but somebody from the studio must've taken it.

Nancy, you can't withhold evidence.

Jessica, somebody is trying to frame Greg.

But it will only look worse when it's discovered.

Besides, it could be used to clear Greg.

Lieutenant,

you said that the prints had been wiped off the murder weapon.

I mean, anybody could've taken that knife from the barbecue.

He was standing right next to that master switch

during the blackout.

But how can you be sure

that the blackout was caused by the master switch?

Nancy, didn't you tell me that the power had gone off

several times recently?

That's right, they've been having electrical problems.

We've had to stop in the middle of recording sessions

several times.

Hmm-mmm. It could also have been an act of God,

but I don't think so.

Yes, but even if the blackout had been caused by the master switch,

somebody else could have pulled it.

Mrs. Fletcher...

this is a very nice womanly thing you're doing,

helping a friend,

but you're grasping at straws here, ma'am.

Everybody else is accounted for.

Not really, Lieutenant.

Nobody could really prove an alibi during a blackout.

Exactly, ma'am, it was a blackout.

And who more capable of operating in the dark than a blind man?

- Oh, for God's sakes. - That's ridiculous.

But, Lieutenant,

you have to have something more than a suspicion of--

Like a motive? You want a motive? Fine. Fine.

There's this, uh, real doll of a waitress named Doris

down at the steak house.

Apparently, Mr. Dalton here, and Mr. Witworth

had quite a shootout over their New York primes last night.

Mr. Witworth said he was canceling the Mystery Books, right, Mr. Dalton?

- And then you reminded him-- - That he owed me, which he did.

A man owes something to somebody he blinds in a car accident.

But not his life.

A job maybe, but not his life.

Greg, could you identify anything

about the person who ran past you?

Like what?

Well, could you tell if it was a man or a woman,

for example?

Sometimes I can tell the difference,

but not when they're wearing soft-soled shoes.

Uh, but did they sound heavy or light?

Did they move fast? Were they young?

He's not an eyewitness, Jessica.

- He's blind. - Nancy!

You're not superman, Greg.

You can't do everything by yourself.

It will never be the same as it was before the accident.

Now, I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry, but that is the way it is.

I'll go and talk to Lieutenant Faraday.

No, no, wait. Please, please.

Nancy, I am happy.

I have a wonderful wife, a good life...

until I ended up here.

Why do you have to be so damn happy?

So nice to Randy in front of me?

Didn't you ever wanna just bash his face in?

Stop it! Just stop it!

How do you know what I feel?

You know what it's like to wake up every morning

and open these eyes?

Of course I hate it.

And I hate him,

but hating isn't gonna get me anywhere.

Isn't that right, Jessica?

It's certainly very destructive.

But you have to acknowledge it. You have to deal with it.

You can't just push it down, or it's gonna well up inside.

You think I killed him, don't you?

I don't know you anymore, Greg.

You don't confide in me.

You don't let me do things for you.

You have cut me off.

Now, all I am to you is your chauffeur.

I'm sorry.

Nancy, these recent power failures,

are they anything like what happened last night,

I mean, total darkness?

Yes.

But you don't think it was a coincidence?

Oh, no.

If I were to pull a murder in total darkness

and frame a blind man for it, I think I'd need some rehearsal.

Why don't you go on home?

I want to go and set a few things straight with Lieutenant Faraday, okay?

Oh, this night scope is great.

The deer don't even see you coming.

Maybe that's why they call it "sport shooting".

Mrs. Fletcher,

I share your respect for Mr. Dalton.

I really do.

Just because I respect him, just because I like him,

doesn't cloud my vision.

- Cream and how many sugars? - Black.

Lieutenant, there are so many other possibilities.

That bottle of nail polish indicates that somebody--

Was in that office sometime near the murder.

Nothing more, ma'am.

Or Witworth could've dropped it himself.

Could have.

Just like that power failure could have been caused by something else.

I mean, we don't know that it was the master switch.

Ma'am, I'm getting just a little bit nervous

about this "we" business.

Yes?

Ah. Thank you very much.

We now have the last bit of evidence that we need.

The blood on the knife that we found in the studio

matches the victim's.

Yes, you can unseal the recording studio.

Yeah, that's right. Call off the marines.

Lieutenant, I wish you wouldn't do that.

Once you open up that studio,

whoever's behind all this could go in and cover his tracks.

Tracks? What tracks? I have got my smoking gun.

A little bit too conveniently.

Ah, so now Mr. Dalton is being framed.

Please, ma'am, please. You're smarter than this.

- Don't act like an irrational-- - Please, Lieutenant, please.

Preserve what respect I have for you and don't say "irrational woman".

Irrational outsider.

Now, ma'am, I really, really don't want to see you

coming around here anymore,

unless you're with some man here to arrange bail for Greg Dalton.

Lieutenant Faraday, believe it or not, there are women who can arrange bail,

and besides that,

you're the one behaving irrationally

by failing to pursue all the leads in this case.

Let's do my overdub on Night Tears,

and then when the rest of the guys get here,

we'll cut that last song.

The quicker the better. That's great, Stoney.

I'm all backed up here.

I got Larry and the Lashers coming in right after you.

Oh, hey, they're bad!

Think they'd give me a chance to work backup for 'em?

They probably would.

They're 90 percent sleaze and ten percent perversion.

Come on, young'un.

Mrs. Fletcher? Something I can do for you?

Yes.

I'm sorry to hear about Greg. He's a great guy.

He used to invite us over for barbecues and stuff.

I really can't believe he did it.

Al, when you were on the phone with Mr. Witworth,

did you hear anything that would give us a clue

to the identity of the killer?

Can't think of anything.

No background sounds or jangling of the keys or...

Sorry. Look, I really have to get back to work.

This whole business has set me way behind schedule.

I wish I could have been of more help.

Well, thanks anyway.

- Earl? - Mrs. Fletcher, come on in.

I thought Mystery Books was canceled.

I'm afraid it has been.

I'm sorry to hear that. I like Mr. Dalton.

This darn shorts.

We're gettin' 'em all over the place.

Oh, very scientific.

Earl, you seem to be something of an expert.

Tell me, is there any way to tell the difference

between a power failure caused by pulling a master switch

and one caused by electrical problems?

They all look the same,

but I'll tell you the master switch never was off.

I checked it myself other times.

The lights just come back on when they're ready.

And you have no idea what's causing these problems.

Electricians can't figure it out either.

And it always happens in the middle of a session, too.

A session of Mystery Books for the blind?

Come to think of it,

during Stoney Carmichael's sessions, too, as I recall.

Earl, I couldn't help but notice you having an argument

with Randy Witworth in here before he was murdered.

Yeah, old Randy, he had a short fuse.

He accused me of selling Stoney's tapes.

And I took exception, of course.

But I'll tell you something.

You talk about mad, I've never seen anybody, ever,

like Stoney was about those tapes.

And if he hadn't been in his studio during the blackout...

These can really drive you mad.

Here, let me have a go.

How do you like that?

You know, I'm a great fan of your uncle.

Makes one of us.

It must be very exciting being on the road with him.

Yeah, excitin'.

You know, I'll tell you somethin'.

If I would've known that he was gonna be worse than my daddy,

I never would've run away.

You know, you'd think old Stoney would help me get started, wouldn't you?

Well, maybe he wants to protect you.

How's he gonna do that? By making me his soda slave?

Geez.

What?

Oh, I-I was just admiring your nail polish.

It's, uh, very intense.

Oh, it's called Slash. You want some?

Ah, no. No, thank you.

Purple doesn't really work very well for me.

I understand, Sally Ann,

that you were in the ladies' room during the blackout.

Yeah. Take it from me.

It's not a fun place to be when the lights go out.

Well, you're lucky you managed to get out without hurting yourself.

What's that supposed to mean? I didn't leave till the lights came back on.

Oh. Oh, I-I misunderstood.

I-I thought that you were the first person to find Randy Witworth in his office.

So?

Oh, I get it. Let me tell you somethin'.

I didn't even hardly know the dude.

Why would I want to kill him, huh?

Excuse me.

Come on, now, Margaret.

Everybody knows you were just Randy's meal ticket.

Ah, what a way you have with words, Carl.

Now don't get het up.

I just meant I don't see why you want this old wreck of a place.

Well, call it sentimental.

But my offer is the same one you agreed to with Randy.

It was my money then, it's my money now.

Well, I'm not so sure I want to sell now.

- Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am. - Mr. Anglin, I was, uh...

I-I was just waiting for you.

Could've been a long wait.

Well, I want to give you your tape.

You just hold on, and I'll go get it from Earl.

You know the widow?

Well, I suppose Carl meant that as an introduction.

- I'm Margaret Witworth. - Jessica Fletcher.

I'm so very sorry about your husband.

It was a great shock.

When you say good-bye to your husband in the morning,

you-you never realize that those will be the last words

that you will ever say to him.

You-you never dream that--

That the next time you see him, he'll be...

Oh, I know. It, it must have been terrible.

That's such a perfectly lovely black dress.

It's crepe de chine, isn't it?

Well, yes, I believe so.

That's such a pretty pale shade of nail polish you're wearing.

Monet Mauve, isn't it?

Well, you certainly know your nail polishes.

That is such a coincidence.

You know, a bottle was dropped right here.

Lieutenant Faraday found it the night of your husband's death.

Well, there's-- There's nothing clandestine

about coming to see your husband at the office, is there?

Oh, of course not.

I just can't help but wonder

why you felt it was so important to make me believe that you didn't.

Well, I'm sorry you didn't get to finish this up.

Well, I wish you'd reconsider.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but you see now,

dumping this Mystery Book series is about the only thing

that Margaret Witworth and I do see eye to eye on.

You take care now, you hear?

Carl! You gone deaf or something?

A couple of times now I told you to stay away from my niece.

Let go of me, will you now, Stoney?

- Stoney, you turn him loose! - You keep out of this!

- Where to, lady? - Uh, stay right here.

I've got the address in here somewhere.

You got some idea about helpin' her out

with a singing career?

- She came to me, Stoney. - Damn right I did.

Yeah, and she came on to Randy, too, and I straightened him out

just like I'm gonna straighten you out right now.

What you got in mind for my niece? Sure ain't no singin' career.

Stoney, you keep out of this!

Look, she's got a tin ear and a voice like a screech owl,

which means that she's only good for one thing.

Carl, are you gonna let him talk about me like that?

Well, I--

Yeah, he's gonna let me talk about you like that.

Because without me, this place is one big nothin'.

- Now come on, honey, let's go. - You let go of me!

Listen, if you don't start behaving yourself,

I'm gonna send you back home to your mama in Chattanooga.

Now let's go!

Jessica, I wanna hear your tape

to see if I can use it to get another studio to pick us up.

Greg, you just made bail.

Give it a rest at least for tonight.

You know, Greg, there's still something that's been bothering me.

You said that the person who passed you in the hall

was running?

- That's right. Nancy. - Yes?

You always made better coffee, even when I could see.

But, the question is,

how could anybody run in the dark?

- Maybe they had a flashlight. - I didn't see one.

Of course, it's possible that the killer was already in the office.

Sally Ann said that she was in the ladies' room,

but she could have gone to the office and killed Randy.

- But why? She had no motive. - Carl Anglin certainly did.

Carl couldn't have done it.

He wasn't inside the building when the lights went out.

Very convenient.

What if somebody inside,

somebody who had a relationship with him,

committed the murder on his behalf?

It's all a lot of ifs, buts, maybes to me.

Right now, all I can think of is hearing this tape

to see if I can salvage the book program.

Oh, it still doesn't feel right to me.

I mean, how could Sally Ann have caused the blackout,

and made her way in the dark--

I mean, how could anybody?

Only ten minutes before Lieutenant Garfield arrived...

Is that me? That can't be me!

Yes, it's you. Sounds wonderful.

Authoritative.

He looked at the swarthy man, with the hideous bloody grin

cut into throat, noted the gown he was wearing,

and dryly observed that...

he appeared to be wearing a size 12.

Hello?

Yes, Lieutenant, she's right here.

At least the corpse wasn't wearing makeup.

Even more bizarre was the fact that there were no blood stains on the dress.

Hello, Lieutenant?

What's all this about, the victim wearing makeup?

Oh, that wasn't me.

I mean, it was me, but it was merely a tape.

A tape of my, um... my voice.

I really wish

you hadn't accused Margaret Witworth, ma'am.

She's been yabbering my head off for the last hour.

Lieutenant, never mind Margaret Witworth.

- What? - She didn't do it.

But I know who did it, and I know how.

But what I don't know is how to prove it.

Who did it? Who?

- Thanks for all your help, Earl. - No problem.

- I got it. - No, it's all right, I got it.

Look, man, it's been a long day. Why don't you split?

Yeah. I guess I will hit the road.

Okay, see you manana.

Damn!

Who is it? Who's there?

- It's me, Al. - Greg?

I wanna know why you wanted to frame me.

What are you talking about?

You did a good job. Too good.

You knew I could maneuver in the dark, and I can.

I'm getting closer, Al.

You're crazy! Stay away from me.

Well, what do you know? The lights came back.

No, Al, you switched them back on.

Just as you did the night that you killed Randy Witworth.

I don't know what you're talking about.

I realized you had to have rigged a way to turn the studio power on and off.

And you wouldn't have had time to dismantle it,

what with the studio being sealed and sessions all day.

Just because I have a master switch here doesn't prove anything.

How could I see in the dark?

With this, we figure.

When you came into the studio today,

you weren't wearing your helmet.

But when I came in here to talk to you,

the helmet was already hanging up on the rack,

which meant it had been there since the murder.

That seemed strange.

Why not wear it when you left that night?

I think it was because you were afraid that in searching you,

which they were likely to do,

the police would discover that this has an infrared visor.

Lady, you're nuts.

I was on the phone with Randy when he died.

Uh-uh. I'm afraid not.

What he heard was a tape recording of your voice

from this battery-powered player.

Besides giving you an alibi, it locked Randy in one place:

on the phone during the blackout.

- Allowing you to kill him. - And to frame me.

You knew that Greg took his medication

sometime around eight o'clock.

And that's why the unexplained blackouts

always occurred during Mystery Book sessions.

You were rehearsing, making sure it would work.

On the monitor, you saw Greg leave the studio.

You got Randy on the phone,

put the cassette on the player, and hit the switch.

You knew where the helmet was and could easily reach it.

Yeah, and you brought the steak knife that you took from Dalton's barbecue.

With the helmet on, it was easy to go to Randy's office...

where you killed him.

It didn't matter that he didn't die on the spot.

As it turned out, it was to your advantage.

Yeah, he alibied you on his deathbed.

You dropped the knife behind the soda machine.

Then you returned here, hid the tape...

placed your helmet in plain sight...

and switched the lights back on.

Stoney and his musicians had no idea you'd ever left.

Besides, how could they?

How could anybody see in the dark except for a blind man?

You're crazy. You can't prove any of this.

My lawyer is gonna make sushi out of you.

Anybody could've rigged this board.

You got nothing on me!

Now, I do not want you to feel bad, ma'am,

because I will find a way to make him confess.

You did search him the night of the murder, didn't you?

Well, uh, yes. Of course we did.

And you didn't find the tape on him?

Well, no.

Well, then, it's still got to be here somewhere.

Jessica, how can we ever thank you?

Well, you just get the series lined up at another studio,

and then we will finish The Mystery of the Mutilated Minion.

Oh, here's my ride.

Lieutenant Faraday?

Faraday? Is he smiling? I hope.

Well, he does seem very pleased with himself.

Well, I thought you'd like to know.

I got Parker to confess.

He was the bootlegger, all right.

Ah, then you did find the tape.

Ten hours later.

If I never hear another guitar, it won't be too soon.

Come on, Greg, I think the Lieutenant has something to say to Jessica.

- Thank you for everything. - Good-bye.

Ciao, Jessica.

Please, ma'am.

I guess she was right.

You really did help us wrap this whole thing up.

Well, thank you, Lieutenant. That's very nice of you.

And you've taught me something.

As long as I live, I will never again--

Yes, Lieutenant?

Underestimate the power of women's intuition.