All language subtitles for MrSWr4E01.A.Fashionable.Way.to.Die.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I heard a shot.

It crossed my mind it might be a champagne cork.

We may be involved with pornography

and perhaps blackmail.

Either you sign,

or I will tie you up

with injunctions and litigations.

Panassié has done it again.

I think you've once again arrested the wrong woman.

Keep an eye on Maxim and the attractive Miss Taylor.

You're not involved.

You don't know how wrong you are.

♪ Hold me close and hold me fast ♪

♪ The magic spell is cast ♪

♪ This is la vie en rose ♪

♪ When you kiss me heaven sighs ♪

♪ And though I close my eyes ♪

♪ I see la vie en rose ♪

♪ When you press me to your heart ♪

♪ I'm in a world apart ♪

♪ A world where roses bloom ♪

So have you spoken to Eva Taylor yet?

Now, are you sure that you want to pursue

the dazzling world of high fashion modeling?

Maybe you think I am not pretty enough.

How does your mother feel about this ambition of yours?

She is all for it. I told you that, Maxim.

Oh.

Well, if she has no objection, I will speak with Eva.

Thank you.

Pernod.

So she's still after you to talk to Eva, huh?

It's up to you.

My daughter cannot wait tables all her life.

Well, to business then.

Maxim, your wife is very generous.

She allows our relationship.

I am not that generous.

Valerie, my American business partner

is just that:

a business partner

who is going to make me very, very rich.

We're all set for Friday night.

No, we're not.

Now, we're all set. Look.

Just arrived from the workrooms.

For the finale, the orchestra can play

"Stars and Stripes Forever."

Peter, what country are we in? No.

We will line them up in blue, white and red.

Play "the Marseilles,"

and all of France will rise to its feet.

Now you are thinking like a diplomat.

What dedication.

Still, the candles burn.

Maxim!

I was afraid you didn't get my message.

Come on. We can talk in the backroom.

Peter, start accessorizing those gowns,

jewelry and shoes and purses.

Givenchy, move over.

Maxim, I have the most wonderful news.

I went to a party last night. I met Lu Waters.

The famous model?

I talked her into modeling in my show.

Isn't that marvelous?

How much is this marvelous opportunity going to cost me?

Cost? Cost? Maxim, it's an investment.

The publicity alone is well worth her fee.

- Which is? - Ten thousand dollars.

But that's nothing when you consider

how important she is--

Eva--Eva, please, stop.

If you have $10,000 to throw around,

perhaps you should use it to pay me back.

But I can't pay you back until my new fall collection

starts selling here in the salon.

Well, you should have thought of that

before you signed our little business arrangement.

I tell you what.

I will give you your $10,000

and a six-month extension.

Oh, Maxim, thank you.

In return for a 50-50 ownership agreement

- in the Taylored Look. - What?

Well, a bank would want everything.

- I ask for only half. - "Ask"?

You have a gun to my head.

Either you sign a business partnership agreement

with me before the show,

or I will tie you up with injunctions

and litigations.

Need I color in the grisly details?

Oh.

By the way, Valerie's daughter, Kim,

wants to be one of the models Friday night.

Eva.

Eva. Shh.

Eva.

Jessica?

Eva! Oh, my goodness.

Don't you look wonderful.

Well, you don't look so bad yourself.

Well, it's not bad for Regent Street,

but I can hardly wait to get you

into an Eva Taylor original.

Well, I---you can't wait?

I've been waiting for ages for this day.

Come on. I'm starved.

It was such fantastic luck reaching you in London.

How was your flight across the Channel?

Well, you know, I am such a diplomat,

I switched from tea to Perrier halfway across.

Oh, Eva, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you.

After all these years, all those disappointments,

to have your own collection, and here in Paris.

I don't know, Jess.

I just knew I had to give it one more shot.

Well, there's nothing like

taking on the other fella in his own backyard.

Oh, Jess, those first few years,

believe me, I really worked my fanny off.

I did some things for a tiny little shop

over on the Left Bank,

and I designed some gowns for a nightclub.

That's when I met Maxim.

He financed me until--

Until now, anyway.

Money troubles?

Nothing that can't be solved.

Now, Eva, you and I have known each other too long.

What's wrong?

Oh, I don't know.

I think I'm just nervous about the show.

After lunch, you are going to come to a rehearsal

where you will tell me how much you love this collection.

I can't wait.

Kim, it's very simple. You enter, you pose, you turn.

You show the garment.

And it's step, step, step,

turn, turn,

and walk, walk, walk, walk.

Okay.

Step, step, step,

turn--

- And walk, walk. - Lu, darling. Welcome.

Hello.

- How's that suite we got you? - It's perfect, Eva. Thank you.

Everyone, Lu Waters, our star.

I am a working girl.

Just give me one of your size eights

and push me down the ramp, okay?

Come on, darling.

There's somebody I want you to meet.

Eva, these are absolutely wonderful.

Thank you. They better be.

Jessica, this is Lu Waters.

- Hello. - Oh, yes, of course.

I've seen you on the cover of Vogue.

Or was it Bazaar?

- Both, I'm thrilled to say. - Peter.

Make sure Lu gets 506, 517--

If Claudia has come in early from the country,

this could become uncomfortable, Valerie.

Relax, Maxim. I just want to wish Kim well.

Besides, I think your wife and I

would get along famously if we ever had the chance.

Mother!

I'm actually learning how to walk.

The red becomes you, darling.

Just what we need, a rookie.

You see that incredible red dress they gave her?

Honey, I don't even notice other models' dresses.

Good luck, darling.

I have to go rehearse a new number

I'm putting in this evening.

Do your mama a favor, huh?

Keep an eye on Maxim and the attractive Miss Taylor.

Mother, I am not a spy.

Of course you're not, darling.

I had, uh, my attorney draw these up this morning.

Our new 50-50 partnership agreement.

Unless, of course, you have found an elusive angel.

Hmm?

Mrs. Fletcher, we have not yet met.

Maxim Soury. Oh, yes.

Eva has told me how very helpful you've been to her.

My wife Claudia.

- How do you do? - A pleasure.

Maxim seldom shares his business interests with me.

But this new venture, it is so exciting, no?

- Mm-hmm. - I will watch backstage.

Claudia, I will see you later, yes?

Madam.

Mesdames et messieurs, bonsoir.

Le Inter-Continental hotel proudly welcomes you

to the premier collection of Miss Eva Taylor

and the Taylored Look.

First, we have Margo in number 501.

This magnificent gold lamé is dramatically strapless,

perfect for the many moods of an evening in Paris.

Eva, my top hook.

Okay.

Here is number 506,

worn by the toast

of the international fashion scene,

Mademoiselle Lu Waters.

This black velvet gown, embroidered with pearls,

would grace any embassy ball.

And you cost-conscious ladies

will be pleased to know that the pearls come with the dress.

Oh, madam, we have a call for Maxim Soury.

- I was told he's here. - Oh. That's him over there.

Oh, thank you.

Our overseas operator

has a Tokyo call for you, monsieur.

- Put it through to room 818. - Very well, monsieur.

Now something different with haunting silver organza

- Yeah, I like that. - Blue sapphire?

Yeah.

And here is Lu Waters again, this time in number 530,

a fabulous white-sequined gown.

I thought he said white.

Oh, forgive me.

I was so blinded by Miss Waters' radiant beauty

that I couldn't see that

she's actually wearing number 531,

a--a stunning blue creation, of course.

And now, here again is Margo in white sequins.

That's number 530.

- The MC screwed up. - No, he didn't.

Peter, you gave her the blue by mistake.

No, I didn't. Eva, what's the difference?

Both girls are the same size.

Margo, did Peter zip you into this?

No, Kim helped me. But this was on my rack, Eva.

And now, we have Kim in number 560.

A brilliant red for all seasons.

Red, white, and blue.

The colors of America and France and Eva Taylor!

Bravo!

The Taylored Look!

Oh, Eva, they loved it, and they loved you.

You really did it.

I sure did. I really blew it.

Blew it? Don't be silly.

Stores all over the world

will be fighting to carry your creations.

And Maxim Soury will reap 50% of my profits.

What?

Oh, Jessica, I have been such a fool.

When you arrived, I was going to ask you

to invest in my company to get that loan shark off my back.

- Loan shark? Monsieur Soury? - But I couldn't.

Oh, you are such a dear friend,

and I was afraid you'd think

that was the only reason I'd invited you.

Now, listen to me, Eva.

If that man extorted money from you, there are laws.

But there's no law that says that I can't help you out.

But I've already signed

a new partnership agreement with him.

Oh, a good lawyer can break that.

Then maybe my bank could extend a short-term loan.

Oh, Jessica. Would you help me talk to him?

Eva, they say that money talks.

Let's go talk money to Monsieur Soury.

- Eva, it was magnificent! - Oh, thank you, Madam Soury.

Maxim doesn't answer.

He was backstage earlier, but then he left.

Perhaps he's in the bar.

Maxim!

Inspector, the widow stated his watch is missing.

As is his wallet.

One bullet in the shoulder. One bullet in the chest.

I, uh, shall have a word with, uh, Madam Soury

and the other ladies who discovered the body.

Uh, Madam Taylor? Ah.

Why did Monsieur Soury leave the show early?

I believe he had to take an overseas telephone call.

What happened? Did he surprise a burglar?

Perhaps. What time did he take this call?

Well, it was about halfway through the show.

- About 9:30, I think. - I see.

And, uh, Madam Soury?

I am Claudia Soury, inspector.

Ah. My condolences, madam.

Now, uh, you were obviously not here

when this tragedy occurred?

No. I was in the ballroom seated with Mrs. Fletcher.

Ah, yes, Mrs. Jessica Fletcher.

American.

Jessica Fletcher?

Possibly J.B. Fletcher, the mystery writer?

Yes.

Oh, I'm honored, mad--

Inspector Hughes Panassié, Paris police.

I have enjoyed with such great relish--

I'm sorry.

Oh, I give the free translation.

Um, the damsel who waltzed at the ball

and was buried at dawn.

That's not your book?

I call it The Corpse Danced at Midnight.

- Ah! - Inspector.

You said perhaps this is a burglary.

The other officer said

Maxim's watch and wallet were missing.

I assumed--

In any other circumstance,

I might be inclined to accept the obvious.

But, madam, forgive me,

because your husband was a man

I knew to be on the fringe of the Paris underworld,

anything is possible in this case.

My late husband was merely a businessman.

He did not associate with killers.

Thank you for your opinion in this matter, madam.

The hotel has given me another room for the night.

That is, if you don't have any more questions.

Of course.

Madam Taylor, you are free to return to your flat,

but make sure that my man has your phone numbers.

Jessica, thank you for being here.

- Well, will you be all right? - Oh, sure.

I'll talk to you in the morning.

All right.

It must have been about ten minutes before 10:00,

just before I went off duty.

I heard a shot, or something like a shot.

It crossed my mind it might be a champagne cork pop.

Inspector Panassié said

that Monsieur Soury was shot twice.

One, two.

I was down the hall in the linen room.

I cannot be sure of anything.

And when you came out of the linen room,

did you see anyone leave this room

or anything unusual at all?

No one came out.

But I did see a woman running for the elevator.

A guest on the floor? Someone you might recognize?

I saw her only from the back.

A woman wearing a big hat

and a long white coat with gray checks.

- Gray checks? - Yes, madam.

White hat and coat, hmm?

Officer, my husband has been waiting for hours.

The hotel was sealed off before I was able to go home.

You may leave now.

Madam Fletcher.

The talk in the hotel lobby

is that your friend Eva Taylor will be the rage of Paris.

Look, please, at this partnership agreement.

Have you any idea why a woman with the world at her feet

signs half that world away to a man such as Maxim Soury?

I'm afraid that you're more familiar

with Monsieur Soury's character than I am, inspector.

It's not the victim's character

I am inquiring about.

It is your friend, Eva Taylor.

Well, I will speak to our new star

in the fashion heavens.

Airplane tickets?

Yes, made out to Madam and Monsieur Soury

for next weekend.

Ah, the Italian Riviera!

Oh, it's warm and sunny there.

It's well within my means.

Perhaps, uh--

Uh, inspector.

Uh, perhaps the woman was looking for this.

It was in his pocket.

I do not think it is for madam's eyes.

Ooh-la-la.

Inspector?

I'm sorry. This is police business.

But surely I'm not a suspect.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, madam.

But I--I'm a gentleman.

Suffice to say,

it is a photograph of a man and a woman.

But the picture is torn in half.

It is the, uh--it is the bottom half.

It is most indelicate.

Knowing the late Monsieur Soury as I did,

I am now certain

that we are not talking about a simple robbery.

We may be involved with pornography

and perhaps blackmail.

Sir, the others involved with Monsieur Soury's

fashion enterprise await you in the ballroom.

I have to seal off this room

until we have completely dusted for fingerprints.

Aha.

Inspector, would you mind if I joined you?

Of course. It would be my pleasure.

Obviously, I fascinate her.

And the bellman fetched Monsieur Soury at about 9:30?

- Yeah. I pointed him out. - Ah.

May I ask you, which of you were aware

that Eva Taylor had sold half of her interest

in the Taylored Look earlier today?

If you're suggesting Eva killed him,

it's impossible.

She was backstage running the show,

getting the girls in and out of their gowns.

She couldn't have possibly left and killed him during the show.

And, uh, you are, uh--

Peter Appleyard, Miss Taylor's assistant.

And tell me, Monsieur Appleyard,

how did you know that Monsieur Soury

was killed during the show?

- Well, I-- - I told him, inspector.

It's all over the hotel

about the maid who heard the shots before 10:00.

You all saw Eva throughout the show?

- Absolutely. - Yes.

Oh, what a remarkable woman to have such loyal employees

with such acute powers of observation.

Ho!

Hello, operator,

would you try a Miss Eva Taylor

at 32 rue St. Honoré?

I don't have the number.

Thank you.

Claudia, I'm sorry to bother you so late,

but it is important.

I feel very awkward about this,

but a very dear friend of mine is in a great deal of trouble.

Why, of course. Please, come in.

Please.

My room is across the courtyard

from your former suite where your husband was killed.

I couldn't help but notice you returned there.

I forgot my stole.

The police have the room sealed off.

A gendarme was kind enough to escort me in.

Yes, but the gendarme wasn't aware of everything

that you took from the room?

While the inspector was interrogating me

earlier in that room,

I saw a coat button on the floor.

I'm sure it belonged to the woman

who spent the afternoon in Maxim's suite

before I came into town.

His mistress, Valerie Bechet.

She sings in his club.

I've known about them for over a year.

Well, then why protect her?

I protect my two teenage daughters from scandal.

But you may be protecting a murderer.

I think not. They loved each other.

Did you know that your husband

was going away next weekend to the Italian Riviera?

Two plane tickets were found.

And the trip would include Valerie, not me.

Over the years, I've closed my eyes

to his women and his business ventures.

His business... did it include blackmail?

Pornography, perhaps?

Nothing would surprise me.

May I see the button?

Oh, Lord.

- Jessica, what is it? - I'm sorry, Claudia.

You're going to have to tell the inspector

about this button.

Exactly where you found it. Everything.

It's easy enough for you, Jessica.

You're not involved.

You don't know how wrong you are.

The lawyers were here at eight o'clock with a buyer.

You see how quickly those jackals descend, inspector?

- Good morning. - Ah! Madam Fletcher.

How charming to see you again so soon.

I was just finishing up some, uh, routine questioning.

You know Madam Bechet.

I haven't had the pleasure. Jessica Fletcher.

How do you do?

I know that you were close to Monsieur Soury.

I'm so sorry.

Thank you.

I was just telling the inspector

how anxious I've been these last few months

trying to quit this old place.

My career was at a standstill.

And when I mentioned it to Maxim,

he was very understanding.

Why, you know, he even called

one of those fancy hotels on the right bank

and got me an engagement

for this coming Saturday evening.

Madam Bechet, I have determined that

Maxim's room was not entered forcibly.

He admitted his killer, or his killer had a key.

Now, you were, forgive me, his mistress.

I loved him, inspector,

but his wife was coming in from the country that night.

Besides, we were not hot-breathed teenagers

waiting to catch some moments of passion together

whenever we could.

No, I never set foot in his room like that.

Pardon.

I have cleaned out my locker, Valerie.

Would you close up?

Certainly.

Good luck, Albert.

Madam Bechet, just where were you

between 9:30 and ten o'clock last night?

My first show finished at 9:30.

I was here resting until my second show at 10:30.

Valerie, I don't think so. No.

Inspector, she was not here.

- Oh, but I was, Albert. - Go on, Albert.

Well, don't you remember?

Your first show started very late last night.

You were still on stage until nearly ten o'clock.

You seem disappointed, inspector.

Despite the woman's alibi, Panassié's instincts tell him

that this was a crime of passion.

A woman is involved. Of that, I am certain.

Inspector.

Good news. We found the murder weapon.

Excellent, Luter!

Monsieur Soury's killer

must have hidden it

in a room service tray in the hall.

A waiter has carried the tray down to the kitchen,

and the dishwasher spotted it and called the department.

The circle tightens.

There is, uh, however, a small problem, monsieur.

Problem?

Another maid stepped forth, and, uh,

she said that she heard a shot shortly after ten o'clock.

A different maid

from the one who heard the shot before 10:00?

- How odd. - Not odd at all, madam.

This other maid is simply trying

to get her picture in the paper like everyone else.

Take this weapon down to headquarters

and have it tested.

Yes, sir.

Panassié will not be swayed from his original theory.

We are looking for a woman wearing a long white coat

who put two shots in Monsieur Soury

at ten minutes to 10:00.

Does that rational approach surprise you, madam?

Not a bit. Not one bit.

Countess, you look stunning!

That color would be smashing on you.

Lu! Oh, Lu, darling, I am so sorry.

I know, I know.

I will write the check immediately.

Thank you, Eva. I'm just a little strapped.

Can you believe it?

A week ago, the only thing I could get

out of Vogue was a subscription.

Now they want me for a cover story!

- That's great. - Jessica!

Is there anywhere we can talk?

Oh, I'd love to,

but I simply have to call Giorgio's in the States.

It's important.

Six o'clock, Jess.

We'll have drinks at Harry's American bar.

No, six o'clock is too late.

This is nothing to have drinks over.

I tried to reach you several times last night,

and your phone was busy all morning.

I was out with some buyers from Dallas.

By 3:00 in the morning, they were talking

seven-figure guarantees.

Then I took my phone off the hook so I could sleep.

Jessica, what is it?

Eva, a maid at the hotel

saw a woman running down the hall

toward the elevator moments after Maxim was shot.

The woman was wearing a white coat with a gray stripe.

But that's crazy.

The only time I was on Maxim's floor

is when we found his body.

And a button just like yours

was found in Maxim's room by his wife.

Oh, there's one missing.

- But that can't be. - What cannot be, madam?

This, perhaps?

But a dozen witnesses

saw her working backstage during the show.

Busy witnesses,

none of whom observed Madam Taylor constantly.

In such confusion, she could have left,

killed Maxim and returned.

The elevators were but a step away.

That's ridiculous!

And with him gone, you wipe away a greedy,

lifelong partner in what the fashion page calls

"the return of the great Coco Chanel."

No.

Inspector, you're wrong.

If Eva had killed Maxim, why didn't she take

the partnership agreement away with her?

Why leave it behind?

She was in a great hurry to return downstairs.

She didn't have time to look for it.

But as you observed,

the killer had time to turn Maxim's suite inside out.

I have boiled the ragout down

to the simple meat and potatoes you Americans can understand.

A maid identifies Eva's coat.

Eva's button is found in the victim's room.

And Eva's motive

is the second oldest one in the book.

Oh!

Marie, do you remember me?

- We spoke last night. - Ah, oui, madam.

Last evening, you said that you heard

what you thought sounded like a shot

- ten minutes before 10:00. - Yes.

But apparently the police spoke to another maid

who claims that she heard the shot

at ten minutes after 10:00.

That was me. Yvette. And I do not claim.

I know what I heard.

But these stupid police, they will not listen.

Well, I'm listening very intently,

and something is beginning to become clear.

- Madam? - Both of you heard a shot.

You, Marie, at ten minutes before 10:00,

and you, Yvette, at ten minutes after 10:00.

Now, if the two bullets

that were fired into Maxim Soury's body

were fired from the same gun,

they must have been fired 20 minutes apart.

How very clever of you.

If you are so clever, madam,

perhaps you can explain our unsolved mystery.

Where are the two towels?

The two towels?

I put two fresh towels

in Monsieur Soury's room that afternoon.

When the police permitted me to clean the room the next day,

they were gone.

The head of housekeeping is holding me responsible.

And since, obviously,

Monsieur Soury did not steal them, who did?

Two towels.

Thank you, Marie. Thank you very much.

Americans.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, you're up unfashionably early.

Well, I'm sorry to bother you.

Remember late in the show

the mix-up in the order of the two dresses?

Do I? Yes.

It was supposed to be Lu in the white,

then Margo in this blue.

Eva blamed me, but I don't know how it happened.

I checked the order myself.

Well, it's got no zipper, no buttons in the back.

Not even a hook to fret with.

That, Mrs. Fletcher, is the beauty of it.

Well, even I could get in and out of that gown

without any help in the dark in five seconds...

if I, uh, were partial to women's clothing.

Suppose for a moment that Lu Waters

had deliberately switched dresses.

How much time do you think it might have taken for her

to get out of the previous dress

and then reappear in the blue one?

Maybe ten minutes.

Well, the show was almost over.

It was about a quarter to 10:00.

I suppose it's conceivable that Lu

could have taken the elevator up to Maxim's room

and still made it back on stage by five minutes of 10:00.

Mrs. Fletcher, do you realize what you're suggesting?

Not suggesting, Peter. Considering.

One thing I'm sure of:

Eva Taylor did not kill that man.

Oh, I agree.

But Lu Waters? Why, for heaven's sake?

What motive could she possibly have?

That, Peter, is the one part of the puzzle

that is still missing.

And by wearing the blue dress intended for the other model,

Lu Waters would have been able to leave backstage

for at least ten minutes.

To commit a murder disguised in Madam Taylor's coat and hat.

Well, as I said, it's only a theory.

But a brilliant one, Madam Fletcher.

I bow to your ingenuity.

There is, as you said,

only one missing ingredient, motive.

And I, Panassié,

will add that soupçon of spice to the recipe.

You are, perhaps,

Dr. Watson to my Sherlock Holmes.

My search of French bank accounts

turned up no indication that any of the suspects

was being blackmailed.

So I made discreet inquiries

into some American bank accounts.

Lu Waters's bank, perhaps?

We must move quickly before the suspect

and the corroborating witnesses leave Paris.

Come, Watson.

The game is afoot.

Hundreds of people saw the mix-up of the dresses...

The white for the blue.

But only I--

Well, with the help of Madam Fletcher,

I maintain that Lu Waters

purposely switched gowns with Margo.

Switched gowns? What is this man talking about?

What must have occurred, Mademoiselle Waters, is this.

Towards the end of the show,

you saw Maxim go up to his room,

and you wished to follow him, to kill him.

To do this, you had to get away without being seen.

You switched your dress for Margo's.

No one had to help you in or out of it.

Then you put on Madam Taylor's coat and hat--

Not to frame her, though it subsequently did,

but to conceal a famous woman wearing a striking gown

in the hotel lobby and elevator.

Everyone else was too busy to notice you slip away.

Me? Kill Maxim Soury?

I only met the man that day.

That's true, inspector.

"Met" perhaps, madam.

But you knew him all too well.

He had been blackmailing you from afar for over a year.

I get it.

You can't pin this on one American,

so you're head-hunting for another.

Mademoiselle Waters,

you are a highly successful model

who makes a lot of money.

Still, your bank account is always drained.

You meet Eva Taylor at a party,

and you sign on at once to model for the money.

And two days later, you are in the salon

hovering around to get your fee.

I ask myself, why?

Why, indeed?

With the help from my dear friends

of the French Passport Bureau,

I can now place you in this country six years ago,

at about the time

when this and other dubious photographs

were being taken.

When you left the ballroom,

you didn't go directly to Maxim Soury's room,

but rather to your own room,

which was also located on the eighth floor

just down the hall from Maxim's room.

You got the gun you own, and you came out.

It must have been tormenting to find yourself

suddenly working for a man who had been blackmailing you.

You couldn't contain your hatred.

You entered Maxim's room, and you shot him.

With only minutes to spare

to return to the fashion show in your blue gown,

you exited at once for the perfect alibi,

the runway.

Is that not the way it happened, mademoiselle?

Six years ago, I ran away from home to Paris.

This man I met

said that I could earn some quick, easy bucks.

And I'm ashamed of it now.

The police raided the magazine,

and the photographs of me were never published.

And then a year ago,

Maxim somehow got a hold of those old photographs.

He threatened to expose them

if I didn't mail cash to a post office box in Paris.

He promised that he would destroy those negatives,

and he never did.

Yes, I killed him, and I'm not sorry that I did.

I'm only sorry that I didn't get away with it.

Perhaps if I had not panicked

when I realized that Madam Soury was in the suite--

Madam Soury?

But she was in the audience next to me.

Well, then whose purse was that in his suite?

Lu, was it a red purse?

Yes, I think it was.

The color is immaterial. Place her in custody.

Panassié has done it again, huh?

Yes, inspector, I think you have.

Merci, madam.

I think you've once again arrested the wrong woman.

What?

♪ But I'll miss you Most of all ♪

♪ My darling ♪

♪ When autumn leaves ♪

♪ Start to fall ♪

Mrs. Fletcher.

Inspector. How flattering.

You remembered my engagement here this evening.

I'm afraid, Madam Bechet,

our visit it is not out of musical interest.

Oh, surely it's not the investigation.

My daughter said the American model

had confessed and is now in custody.

Well, she may have confessed, Valerie,

but I'm afraid she's guilty only of attempted murder.

She fired one shot at Monsieur Soury

at ten minutes before 10:00.

It wounded him in the shoulder.

When he fell, she thought she had killed him,

but the fatal shot to his heart was fired 20 minutes later...

by you.

Oh, inspector, this is absurd.

Madam Bechet, Monsieur Soury had purchased two plane tickets

for the Riviera this weekend.

Now, who was going to be his traveling companion?

Not his wife, and surely not you.

As you stated, Maxim had personally arranged

for your engagement here.

No, I'm afraid, uh, his companion

was to be his newest love...

your daughter.

Oh, that's a monstrous suggestion!

Why, she's just a child.

Valerie, we think we have

a pretty good idea how it all happened.

When Lu fired a shot thinking she'd killed Maxim,

she left the gun and fled.

And as you said,

you were at Maxim's club when that shot was fired.

A blackmailer shot by his victim

wouldn't call a doctor or the police,

he'd call a friend.

You, Valerie.

By that time, you had just left the stage.

Unobserved, you took a five-minute taxi ride

to the club to his hotel.

While trying to stop his bleeding,

you saw the red purse.

Your daughter was supposed to be modeling in the show.

You had seen her with it earlier that day.

We all did.

When Lu Waters told us that

she saw that red purse in Maxim's room,

all the pieces fell together.

It was all right for Maxim to cheat on his wife,

but when he cheated on his mistress

with his mistress' own daughter,

you finished the job Lu had begun 20 minutes earlier.

You took Maxim's wallet and watch

to make it look like a robbery

and stowed the purse and the gun in your bag,

along with the bloodstained towels.

- No. - Madam Bechet.

The only way that red purse could have

found its way into your dressing room

was if you took it

from Maxim's room to protect your daughter.

What?

When the inspector and I

were in your dressing room after the murder,

we both looked right at the red purse,

but neither of us connected it at the time.

No, that was my purse.

Kim wore her own in the fashion show.

Well, Eva had a photographer to shoot the fashion show.

There's Kim in the finale.

Now, the other models are both carrying purses.

But where's Kim's?

Valerie, the inspector could question your daughter,

but do you really want to put her through that?

At first, I suspected Maxim had his eye on Eva Taylor.

I even encouraged him to hire Kim

so that she could keep her eye on him.

I long ago surrendered myself to that man,

along with my dreams.

But how could I give my daughter away?

♪ All of a sudden my heart sings ♪

♪ When I remember little things ♪

♪ The way you dance and hold me tight ♪

♪ They way you kiss and say good night ♪

on the outside, Panassié is

the tough-as-nails police inspector,

but deep down, like all Frenchmen,

I am a sentimental romantic at heart.

Ah, well,

your half of this check comes to 120 francs, madam.