All language subtitles for MrSWr908

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

Oh!

If the government pulls the rug out from under us,

this whole thing could fall to pieces.

Jessica, this is Marika Valenti.

Marika here has helped the police solve

several murders with her psychic powers.

Daddy has disappeared.

I’ve a terrible feeling he’s not coming back.

And then through there opens the door,

and quietly comes into the room.

There was definitely a woman here last night.

Tell me about 150 million dollars.

Don’t you realize that breaking into privileged files

is a form of stealing?

He’s dead. Buck is dead.

No!

Ever since I found out, I’ve been in shock.

Well, I can certainly understand that.

When I was your age, I wanted desperately to be

completely independent.

I want to be a really good book editor.

And I wanted to be a good teacher.

Yeah, but your father didn’t buy the school.

Mine’s negotiating to buy the publishing house.

Which would make him my publisher.

And my boss.

Goodbye credibility.

Once again, I’d be a rich kid dabbling

in one of daddy’s companies.

Well, I can certainly testify

for your excellence as an editor.

And as you know, I’m not that easy to please.

Simon Legree in a skirt.

Well, maybe not that bad.

Are you sure you don’t mind having dinner with daddy?

He was so insistent.

Of course not. Certainly not.

I’m looking forward to meeting your father.

He just bought the Lazy L steakhouse chain.

And he’s opening one in New York City tonight.

That’s where we’re gonna meet him.

Oh, I’ve eaten in a Lazy L.

And they have a very nice down home

family atmosphere, very nice.

Daddy’s changed the name to Buck’s Buckaroo.

I’m not sure the atmosphere is gonna be quite

the same as you remember.

Wide, Mr. Wilson.

You are so right.

The Lazy L was never like this.

I should have warned you.

- Wow. - Dad.

Just one more.

Daddy, daddy.

Oh, hi, baby.

How is my little girl?

Just fine.

This here is Molly.

Molly, this is my daughter, Sally.

Hi.

Hello.

And you just got to be Jessica Fletcher.

And you just got to be Buck Wilson.

Sally must have told you.

I’m thinking about buying your publishing house.

Well, as you well know, Mr. Wilson,

it’s not mine to sell.

Of course not,

or else, come next Friday, you’d be richer

by 19 million dollars

and that’s just the down payment.

Buck, we’ve been looking all over for you,

haven’t we, George?

- Oh, just about. - Hello, Sally.

Hello.

What, I didn’t know you’re gonna be here.

Don’t you look wonderful?

Jessica, this is my uncle George and aunt Janine Foster.

This is Mrs. Fletcher.

Hello.

How do you do? Nice to meet you.

George, now did you make sure the 36 caddies

get to Pasadena in time for the classic car show?

Yes, Sir.

It was picked up this afternoon and it’s on its way.

Buck, I got to talk to you.

Excuse us, ladies.

Leave it to George to interrupt pleasure

with business.

I’m sorry, but these rumors keep growing

about a possible investigation

into the corporation’s financial affairs.

Let them investigate.

I’ve got nothing to hide.

Well, it’s certainly colorful compared to the Lazy L.

The word is garish, Mrs. Fletcher.

Buck has this publicity woman to think of gimmicks

and this time it’s a phony psychic

to predict incredible success for the Buckaroo chain.

Yes, I think I read about that in a Wall Street paper.

Maria something?

Marika.

Buck, we are not that protected.

If the government pulls the rug out from under us,

this whole thing could fall to pieces.

I got to say, it wasn’t the right time to buy

this damn white elephant.

Here, George, this little lady will take

your mind off your troubles.

Oh, is this your friend, cowboy?

Just feed the boy, darling.

All you have to do is open your mouth, George.

Molly does the rest.

Come on, Jessica.

There’s somebody I want you to meet.

Open up.

Wow.

There you go.

Open up again.

I see a handsome man from Oklahoma

with a stylish woman from Maine

bearing a remarkable resemblance

to the writer J.B. Fletcher.

Am I close?

Right on the money.

This woman has second sight.

Are you sure you didn’t see our reflections

in your crystal ball?

Jessica, this is Marika Valenti.

She doesn’t need that prop crystal bowl.

She’s a real psychic.

Well, I’m very pleased to meet you.

I’ve been looking forward to it.

We have something in common.

Marika here has helped the police solve several murders

with her psychic powers.

I keep telling Marika

she should write about her experiences.

I bet you can help her on that, couldn’t you, Jessica?

Well now, I’m not sure.

So this is where you went.

Hello, Marika.

Forecasting the future of steak houses?

Next thing you know you’ll be writing a column

for the Wall Street Journal.

Try the fillet, honey.

I had it flown in from Fort Worth this afternoon.

Doggone it, we ought to see each other more often.

Well, I hope that’s not why you’re trying to buy

that publishing company.

Would that be so terrible?

This old boy’s about had it.

I’m gonna have my driver run me up to West Chester.

I know you’re very busy, Jessica.

Thanks for making the time to stop by.

I enjoyed it.

Bye now. Take care of yourself.

Bye, daddy.

So long, Marika.

And remember, the fates have got to be

with Bucks Buckaroo.

There’s a room full of rich investors here

and rich investors want happy futures.

I trade in the futures, Mr. Wilson.

- Good night. - Good night.

Let’s get out of here, Jessica.

Yeah, and find somewhere quiet for a light dinner.

I like your father, but I’m not sure about his taste in restaurants.

Sally. Mrs. Fletcher.

Hi, B.J. we were just leaving.

Why?

I mean, I thought daddy was gonna meet you for dinner.

Oh, so did we, but he said he was tired and went home.

How long ago?

Oh, just a minute ago.

He went out back,

probably to avoid to all these people.

- Thanks. - What’s the rush?

You’ll see him in the office tomorrow morning.

It can’t wait.

Mr. Wilson.

Miss Oates, well, you nearly scared the life out of me.

Oh, I’m sorry, but I heard someone moving about.

I was just fixing myself a night cap

and a little snack.

I thought you went to Poughkeepsie

to see a friend.

Oh, I was going to, but my friend got sick.

Weren’t you intending to stay in the city tonight?

I changed my mind.

Oh, will Mr. And Mrs. Foster be changing their plans too?

No, they’re staying over.

I just didn’t feel too good.

Oh, well, why don’t you go up to bed and I’ll just bring--

Well, because I don’t want you too.

Now damn it, go home.

I’ll handle this.

Good night then, Mr. Wilson.

Good night, miss Oates.

You can get out now, Janine.

We’re home.

Don’t tell me what to do.

Eating junk food out of that girl’s hand,

ought to do something for your manhood.

And you left me standing there like a fool

while you disappeared.

I told you I saw Buck heading for the door

and I wanted to talk to him before he left.

Keep your voice down.

Why?

There’s nobody here but us.

Buck probably has a little something cooking in town.

But you don’t want to know about that, do you?

Grow up.

Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson, are you coming down to breakfast?

Buck, you decent?

Where’s my brother?

I don’t know.

He didn’t come down to breakfast this morning.

He has steak and eggs every morning

when he’s home, except today.

What is going on?

Buck never drops towels on the floor.

What is this ashtray doing here?

Buck, quit smoking 30 years ago.

Mrs. Oates, take a look at this.

Tell me what you see?

Lipstick.

And then I thought, why shouldn’t Cynthia Lewis

put her husband’s body in the freezer?

That’s page 94 in the manuscript.

Well, hang on a second here. You got an advantage over me.

You wrote this. It takes me a little longer.

Here we go.

Oh, yes, this is much better.

I must say I much prefer

working in your apartment than in my office.

It’s nice to get away from the feeling

that daddy is looking over my shoulder.

You know, Sally, I’m not sure that your relationship

with your father is in as much trouble

as you seem to think it is.

Well, you can’t judge from last night.

Daddy is a charmer.

But he can’t stand not getting his own way.

Anyway, enough of that.

I’m ready to go over the last chapter if you are.

Well, you know, I think

I’ve solved that nasty little problem.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Oh, good morning, B.J.

I’m sorry to disturb you, Jessica,

but Sally’s office said she was with you.

Yes, she is.

Hang on.

Beej, is everything okay?

No.

Daddy has disappeared.

What do you mean, disappeared?

I mean, he’s vanished from the face of the earth.

Oh, Sally, I am so glad that you’re here.

Has anyone heard from daddy?

Not a word.

Oh, Jessica, this is Mrs. Oates.

She brought me up after my mother died.

Hello.

I saw B.J.’s car in the driveway.

Oh, he just went

toward the garage with Tom Jarrow.

Tom practically lived here

when he was B.J.’s grade school buddy.

Come in.

Carl, did you happen to see Mr. Wilson this morning?

No, I didn’t.

When did you see him last?

Last night when I drove him home.

We got back from the city about 10:30.

Who was he with?

Nobody. He was alone.

Stopped anywhere along the way?

Once at a gas station, the limo was running low.

Was the woman waiting for him?

No.

All we picked up was a full tank of gas.

Was the woman already here

when you got back to the house?

I didn’t see any woman.

Mr. Wilson went into the house alone.

And then what did you do, Carl?

I drove the limo back here and parked it.

Mr. Wilson take the limo out last night?

No. The keys are on my dresser in my room.

They were still there this morning.

He could have driven one of the other cars.

Open it up.

Oh, boy, B.J..

Do you remember when we were kids

pretending we were driving these beauties?

It was perfect.

Yeah.

One thing’s for sure, he would have been noticed

if he’d driven away in one of those.

And daddy sure as hell wasn’t one for walking.

Janine is up in her room with a cold compress.

She’s been on the phone all morning.

Nobody at the office has heard from him either.

There are a lot of important matters that can’t be

resolved without Buck.

Well, can’t you take care of them, uncle George?

You’ve some authority in the company.

Well, not enough.

Buck doesn’t like to share it with anybody.

Here we are, Tom.

- The brat. - Hello, Sally.

Old Tom was afraid you wouldn’t remember him.

Not remember the man I had a tremendous crush on when I was ten?

Uncle George, I’d like to talk

business with you in the den.

Yeah, it’s about time

somebody wanted to talk business.

Excuse us, please.

Tom Jarrow, I want you to meet Mrs. Fletcher.

Hello, Tom.

The mystery writer. I’m a big fan.

Well, thank you.

Did you find anything out back?

The chauffeur swore he drove Buck home alone.

I saw two brandy glasses on the tray in Buck’s bedroom

and lipstick on a cigarette in his bathroom.

There was definitely a woman here last night.

I wonder if it was the waitress from the steak house.

She seemed like his type.

What type is that?

Good-looking women who call him cowboy.

You know her name?

Molly, but he called her darling.

That’s what he calls most women he likes.

Well, I’m sure the steak house

would have her name on file, right?

Why don’t I give them a call

since I need to get back to the office anyway?

I’ll walk you out.

It isn’t like Buck to take off without telling me

when he’ll be back.

Well, maybe he left in a hurry and didn’t know when.

Without his wallet, his watch or his keys?

I have a terrible feeling he’s not coming back.

B.J., if your dad knew that

you’d been hacking around

in the corporation’s computer files,

he’d skin you alive.

I was gonna tell him

myself last night at the steak house,

but he ran off

before I had a chance to talk with him.

Don’t you realize

that breaking into privileged files

is a form of stealing?

I had to.

What with the rumors of an investigation?

Hell, uncle George, the Wall Street Journal

was calling every day, and daddy’s good friend,

the senator, wouldn’t return my phone calls

even when I used his name.

I had to find out how deep it went

and what the committee might find.

It’s bad, uncle George.

I couldn’t understand half of it,

but one thing I do understand,

is that huge sums of money were shifted

from every arm of this company.

Look, some kind of complicated transactions

require extreme measures.

Now your dad has been negotiating for the publishing house.

Don’t you get it, uncle George?

This has nothing to do with negotiations.

Now, a grand total of 150 million dollars

has been electronically transferred

into several different bank accounts

and that money in turn was recently withdrawn

in the form of cash and bare bonds.

You better be careful what you’re saying.

Well, it’s one hell of a coincidence,

don’t you think, both daddy and the money disappearing

just when the entire corporate structure is about

to go smack down the toilet?

B.J., I hope that you’re not stupid enough to think

that your father could possibly do anything

that would ruin all of us.

Do it?

Uncle George, he’s done it.

I got it, Mrs. Oates.

Marika.

I had to come.

I had a premonition something happened to your brother.

Premonition?

I wondered why he was so eager to have us meet.

Now I understand.

He too had the premonition.

He knew that we would have

to work together to solve this mystery.

Well, I’m not sure that I--

Jessica, you must, please.

I don’t understand what she’s doing.

Well, she is looking for the right object

to use in psychometry.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word

before in my life.

Well, it has to do with using an object to divine

something about the person who owns it.

He’s dead.

Buck is dead.

Oh, no.

No!

Oh, Mrs. Oates, I was asked to invite you

to a demonstration of psychometry in the lanai.

Oh, yes, thank you.

I’m crazy about that stuff.

I don’t think you’ve met Carl Graham,

Mr. Wilson’s driver.

This is Jessica Fletcher, a friend of Sally’s.

Yeah.

How do you do, Carl? I’d like to ask you too.

Haven’t I answered enough questions?

I didn’t drive a woman here last night.

I didn’t drive one away this morning.

Look, I was only going to ask you

if you’d like to join us in the lanai.

Marika Valenti, the psychic,

made a point of asking that everyone should be there.

That is a waste of my time.

Oh, what got into him?

He never even touched his apple pie.

I want absolute silence

so I can focus my thoughts on Buck’s favorite photograph.

Don’t be alarmed by anything I might say.

Please don’t cry out

or my concentration will be broken.

I see Buck asleep in his bed.

An intruder opens the door

and quietly comes into the room.

I cannot see a face.

I sense that the intruder is someone

with a guilty secret...

and in the right hand a gun with a silencer.

Buck senses the danger and wakes.

He starts to get up.

The intruder fires.

Buck falls back on the bed.

The intruder uses a pillow case to mop up the blood,

then tosses it under the bed.

The intruder lifts Buck’s body and carries him out

like one might carry a child.

I feel the presence of someone else,

someone in the bathroom, listening,

a witness to the murder.

Jessica, have I given you enough?

Is there any more to tell?

Yes, but I find myself turning from it with dread

wanting it not to be so.

We must hear it all.

I see a chamber in the ground

so very dark, so very cold.

A grave, but not an ordinary grave.

A deep shaft, a well, an old well...

Buck’s body is thrown there by the killer.

No, I don’t believe this. My father is alive.

Shh. You’ll break her concentration.

I don’t give a damn.

Sally, wait a minute.

I’ve had enough with these horrible party games.

Tom, she’s talking about the old well.

I know where it is.

- There’s a picture of it in the den. - Show me.

An oil well.

Look what he wrote on it in the corner.

First gusher, Tulsa 1950. An old well, daddy’s first.

Yeah, but you don’t seriously think

somebody killed your father,

brought his body back to an Oklahoma

oil field in the middle of the night?

Maybe.

Corporate jet’s only ten minutes from here.

I checked it out as soon as you said he was missing.

Jet’s still there, your father never came near it,

dead or alive.

But you don’t believe he’s dead, do you?

- No. - Why?

I have my reasons.

Psychometric readings, they always give me a migraine.

It was very impressive.

I can certainly see

how your special talents could help

the police to solve murders wherever that was.

London.

Scotland Yard had called me in several times.

Oh, how absolutely fascinating.

And did you locate victims or murderers?

How can you ask me so many questions?

Can’t you see I’m suffering?

Oh, I’m so sorry.

It’s just that this subject is so interesting to me.

Please excuse me.

I have the need of some fresh air.

That awful woman.

Jessica, I’m sorry for running out like that.

Oh, no need to be. I almost ran out with you.

But something puzzles me.

Sally, did your father have any maps of this property?

There’s no indication of a well on the property.

You sound disappointed.

I wanted to find it in proof that Marika was wrong.

Have you got a magnifying glass?

Thanks.

Yes, just as I thought.

Did you find a well?

No, but I found something else.

A circle with a C in it.

We’ll meet Tom here first thing in the morning.

I called the steak house

and got the telephone number of the waitress.

What did she say?

After work, she went home with her husband

who’s a pastry chef in the kitchen.

Apparently, harmless flirting with the customers

was all part of the fun at Buck’s Buckaroo.

It’s right here.

What is it? The old well?

No, it’s not a well.

It’s a cistern for storing rainwater

according to the map.

Let’s have a look.

Oh.

Marika.

It wasn’t some stranger who sneaked up on her

while she was taking a walk.

She was shot at close range through the heart.

Apparently, she knew everyone in the house,

including Buck’s driver, Carl Graham.

In fact, I invited him to join us

at the reading last night, but when I mentioned

Marika Valenti’s name he bolted out of the room,

white as a sheep, didn’t even touch the food

that Mrs. Oates had set up for him.

Maybe he was afraid that she’d contradict his lying.

What lie was that?

Well, I listened carefully to Marika’s

so called reading last night.

I think that she was the woman

in Buck Wilson’s bathroom.

I mean, not even a psychic could divine that much detail.

And Carl must have driven her

back up here last night with Buck.

He lives right next to the garage.

You can see it from here.

I imagine that he can see us too.

Carl, it’s police sergeant Tom Jarrow.

Can you open the door please?

I knew you were coming.

Yeah, I see.

But I guess you were hoping you’d be out of here first, right?

I swear on my mother’s grave I didn’t kill that woman.

How did you know it was a woman, Carl,

considering I didn’t mention it?

I saw from my window

when her body was being recovered.

And why did you lie about driving her here?

Mr. Wilson told me not to tell anybody.

He’s always been good to me.

I do what he says.

Had you ever driven the Valenti woman up here before?

No.

But Mr. Wilson was seeing her?

Yeah, he usually met her at a New York hotel.

Last night he thought he’d have the house to himself.

And you took her back to the city early yesterday morning.

I was supposed to, but she asked me

to drop her at a motel a couple of miles from here.

I was glad I didn’t have to make the round trip.

What have you got, Steve?

I turned the room inside out, no murder weapon.

All right, read him his rights,

take him in and get a signed statement.

Got it.

What do you think of the Valenti woman?

Evidently, she was a psychic who made house calls.

Which reminds me, I have a phone call to make myself.

You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Just try to listen.

- I don’t want to hear anymore. - Could you do that?

- Because you’ve got a reality problem. - Oh, God.

Watch it.

Did you hear him, Jessica?

Well, I heard raised voices

and I believe that one of them was yours.

Sally, I’d keep this in the family.

My brother has lost his mind.

He thinks Marika made up all that stuff

about daddy being dead and that he’s alive

and hiding somewhere on the ground.

Isn’t that what you believe?

I never said that he was hiding.

That’s something that you and Tom used to do

when we were kids.

Yes, but why would Marika pretend

that your father was dead?

I think Buck asked her to.

Why?

So we’d stop looking for him.

He’d have time to get away with the 150 million dollars

he stole from the corporation.

I hope you’re just trying to impress Jessica

with your fiction and you’re not gonna

say anything like that to Tom Jarrow.

It’s true.

You’re the one with the reality problem.

Now tell me about 150 million dollars.

Since when did you start drinking at this time of day?

Buck’s alive. I feel it.

Ah, don’t you start.

Anyway, if he is, it’s his business.

You know something about this, don’t you?

You know something about Buck

and you’re keeping it from me.

I don’t know a damn thing...

nothing certain anyway.

And I would advice you to give that up for a while.

This is not a good time for getting loaded

and speculating about your brother.

If he isn’t dead,

then something else terrible has happened.

Well, if there has, then this is the time for the family

to stick together and protect Buck,

not be so quick to make judgments.

Unless you’re covering for him.

I think you’ve had enough.

Just a minute.

We will continue this conversation

when you stop talking nonsense.

Am I quite clear?

- Hello, Tom. - Hi.

If you’re looking for B.J.,

he decided to go into his office.

Actually, it’s Sally I’ve come to see.

Sally really isn’t feeling very well just now.

Oh.

Well, would you mind if I looked in on her?

She doesn’t want to be disturbed, Tom.

I’m sorry.

Thanks.

Tom Jarrow is a nice man.

He likes you.

He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.

I wish you’d just please mind your own business.

Mrs. Oates.

Mrs. Oates.

Mrs. Oates,

what is it?

I’m sorry, Mr. Foster, I just can’t bear

seeing this family come apart like this.

And I’m listening to what Buck’s own son

is saying about him.

Oh, come on, that’s just B.J.’s

immaturity he’s showing.

I’ve been in this house over 20 years,

Mr. Foster, long enough to see the children grown.

And you get to know a lot about a person in that time.

Mr. Wilson doesn’t have a crooked bone in his body.

I know that.

Listen, you know what I think?

I’m betting old Buck’s gonna come walking back in here

any minute as big as life.

He’s probably off on one of those goofy adventures of his.

He’ll be back.

Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.

Hello, inspector Moss?

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice.

Yes, I remember you vividly from your last trip to London.

I understand you’ve made an enquiry

about a woman named Marika Valenti.

Yeah, she claimed to have assisted

the Yard in solving some murders.

There’s no record of her assistance.

However, I did come across

the name in quite a different context.

Marika Valenti is one of the aliases used by a woman

who has been arrested three times

on suspicion of blackmail.

Blackmail?

Yes.

But each time the charged was dropped

when the alleged victim refused to testify in open court.

By the way, her MO was always the same.

She pretended to be a psychic.

Thank you, inspector, you’ve been a great help.

My best to your wife. Goodbye.

Jessica.

That was a very interesting conversation.

This has all been too much for me.

I can’t stay in this house any longer.

Let’s go back to New York

and finish working on your book.

Oh, my book can wait.

You don’t understand, I have to get away from this place.

I can’t even face Tom Jarrow

after the things that B.J. said.

Forget those things.

I want to ask you about something else that B.J. said.

That he and Tom used to hide from you all the time.

We were kids.

Well, the property can’t have changed that much.

Did they have several hideouts or just one?

Just one, the garage.

They used to lock me out and play in daddy’s old cars.

Oh. Are those old cars still there?

Yes, last time I looked. Why?

When B.J. and I weren’t playing around in these old cars,

we’d hide out here in the workshop.

We’d grab a cot

and a couple of chairs with food and water.

We could live out here for days.

Sergeant, come over here quick.

Daddy!

Why would anyone kill daddy?

He didn’t have an enemy in the world.

I’m sure your father was a very good man.

I think it’s pretty clear.

His killer’s already in custody.

Carl. He worshiped Mr. Wilson.

He was the only one who would give him a job.

He was an ex-convict, Mrs. Oates.

Mr. Wilson believed that people could change.

Let’s go inside.

I’ll make you some of that nice tea that you like so well.

- Come on. - Tom. Tom.

I’ve still got some things to do.

You go inside, I’ll be right with you, okay?

I promise.

Did you find something, Mrs. Fletcher?

You know, that oil stain there is recent.

Was there a 1936 cadillac parked here?

If you got that from this oil spot,

I want to take your class.

That can be arranged.

No, no, the truth is that I remember Buck talking about

a cadillac that he was gonna ship somewhere.

I wish I could recall where.

Oh, B.J. said his dad

was gonna have all the classic cars

shipped to the Oklahoma ranch.

Oh, I think I would have remembered that.

Mrs. Fletcher, finding the body

in the garage, sort of cinches the case against Carl.

I mean, this was his domain.

He lived just next door.

He knew the people in the house

rarely came out here anymore

and figured it was the perfect place

to stash Buck’s body

after he pulled it from the cistern.

But you don’t buy that, do you?

What motive did Carl have for killing Buck?

Well, I’m sure you know about the 150 million

B.J. said his dad

misappropriated from the company.

Yes, but did Carl know about it?

Well, it’s a lot of money.

I mean, Buck must have brought home a briefcase

full at a time.

Unless, of course, he got careless

and opened it up while inside the limo.

Yeah, but where is the money now?

I mean, your officer searched Carl’s room

for the murder weapon.

I’m sure he would have told you

if he found 150 million dollars.

Carl must have gotten that out of here.

Yes, but how?

I mean, you yourself said that’s a lot of money.

It’s too much to put in a suitcase

and walk out the door.

Buck didn’t send his Cadillac to the ranch.

He shipped it out to a classic car show

in California the day of the murder.

From this garage?

Do you remember the name of the company

that he used for shipping his car through?

It’s got to be the leading one in the area,

which we would narrow it down.

I’m gonna try Trans Highway Shipping.

The manager there beats me in poker

every other Thursday.

Phil, Tom Jarrow. How are you doing?

Listen, I’m actually calling on official police business.

Look, you didn’t happen to pick up a classic Cadillac

day before yesterday

for shipment to some town in California?

Pasadena?

Yeah, that’s it.

What?

What time?

Thanks, Phil.

Shipping order was changed.

To a foreign destination.

Rio de Janeiro.

Mm-hmm.

Sally, can I talk to you a minute?

Well, Tom, I’m really not in the mood

to answer a load of questions.

No, I know. I didn’t come here as a cop.

I just haven’t had a chance to tell you

that I’m really sorry about your dad.

He was a good man

and I think I know how you must feel.

I just didn’t want to believe that it was true,

even after we found Marika.

It just seems like all these years

I’ve been trying to get away from him.

No, you just wanted to stand on

your own two feet, that’s all.

How must he have felt?

Oh, he understood.

Well, since you’ve moved into New York,

I’ve probably seen your father

as many times as you have.

And well, I asked him about you recently

and he just was so proud,

proud of what you were doing

in the book business all on your own.

He said that?

He sure did.

He said that you reminded him of somebody.

Reminded him of himself when he started out

before the first big gusher hit.

Sally... he was good to me too.

I’m gonna miss him.

You’re gonna be okay here?

Yeah, you go on.

I’m sure you got a lot to do.

Yeah.

Tom...

thank you.

He loved the girls.

In high school he had them fighting over him.

But he never loved any woman

the way he loved your mother.

That was purely sacred.

Hello, Wilson residence.

Just a moment.

It’s for you.

Yeah, this is Phil at Trans Highway Shipping.

Yeah, sorry to disturb you.

You know that-- that Cadillac

you’re shipping to Rio,

hmm, well, I just got a call from a federal inspector.

He says he’s got to make a thorough examination

of the car before it’s loaded on the ship.

Hey, it’s a new regulation, what can I tell you?

Come on, treasury just got to be sure

it’s a real classic

and not a cheap look-alike put together

for a quick sale down Latin America.

Anyway, man, I don’t expect a problem

with a genuine article like this, do you?

Is it still there, George?

Somebody named Phil just called at the house

and said there was going to be some kind of inspection.

Pretty convincing, wasn’t he?

Well, this isn’t mine.

It’s Buck’s. He stole it.

But this is your signature on the shipping instructions

changing the destination of the car

from Pasadena to Rio.

Look, uh, I didn’t kill Marika Valenti, Buck did.

She was taking him for everything he had.

She was blackmailing him.

I wasn’t sure she was a blackmailer

until I spoke to Scotland Yard.

How did you find out?

It was obvious.

Yes, of course, it was meant to be obvious to you.

That was the object of the bogus reading

to contact the killer

and make him aware that she knew

what he’d done.

You knew what she meant by old well

and you waited for her by the cistern.

$100,000 a month, Mr. Foster,

and your secret will die with me.

100,000, take it or leave it.

Marika.

She made her proposal, and your reply was

a bullet through her heart.

Then you temporarily got rid of her body

as you got rid of Buck’s.

You think you know everything, don’t you?

Yeah, I’ve been stealing money for years,

winnowing it from every unit in the corporate structure.

But old Buck found out about it right before B.J. did.

I ran into him the other night

at the steak house just as he was leaving.

He pulled me aside and said that he was gonna hand me

over to the investigation committee

to try to save the company and prevent his employees

from loosing their jobs.

When I got home that night and found out

that Buck was there, something snapped.

I went to his room, I shot him.

I had no idea that woman was hiding in the bathroom

listening to the whole thing.

But you had a good paying job,

lived in a mansion,

and you were married to a billionaire’s sister.

Why did you need to steal the money?

I needed to get away from the job,

from that house,

most of all from my wife.

I was so sick of being Buck Wilson’s brother-in-law.

I wanted to fly to Rio and start a new life

in my own mansion.

You wanted to be Buck Wilson.

Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted.

Right, and if I’m not mistaken...

this would be the murder weapon.

Sally...

it’s not going to be the same around here.

I know.

Hi.

Tom.

You almost missed us.

Well, actually, it’s you I wanted to see.

Me?

Yeah, I want to let you know I was serious about taking

that course of yours.

I just put in for a leave of absence.

Well, you realize you’ll have to live

in the city for a while.

Yeah.

Well, then I guess I’ll just have to make the best of it, won’t I?

Won’t I?

I hope you’ll keep one or two evenings free for studying.