Original subtitles

There is a reasonable explanation

why you are sitting here

typing with mittens on.

Boxing gloves were too cumbersome.

[plays wrong chord defiantly]

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I cannot play a piano that is out of tune.

Have you done something stupid?

Within a year he would've lost nearly all the dexterity in both hands.

We could fly off to Majorca.

-If I thought you were serious. -Oh, but I am.

-What is that, lighter fluid? -Might as well be.

[cheerful orchestral music]

[man] Nobody, but nobody, plays Mozart

like Vaacclav Maryska did in his heyday.

You're in for a rare treat, Jess.

[rock and roll music]

[chuckles]

Somehow, I don't remember Mozart sounding like that.

"Head-on Collision?"

This must be something my nephew Billy brought

when he stayed with me last month.

Well, it looks to me as if you've been the victim of a switch.

I suppose that means next time

Billy tries to play his traffic accident,

he's going to be exposed to Mozart.

Good, especially played by Maryska.

You know, it's a shame the boy will never have a chance

to hear the old maestro play live.

You did hear about what happened to him?

Hear?

Oh, I got a blow-by-blow description of the whole thing,

including a lot that never got into the newspapers.

Oh, not another tape from that Stanton guy?

Is he involved in every crime that takes place west of the Mississippi?

Well, sometimes it just seems that way.

Pretty odd, Jess, a man with his past

just stumbling into one theft after another.

Oh, but this one isn't about theft.

Murder, arson, fraud, unrequited love, you name it.

Dennis thinks that this would make a wonderful novel.

Tell me what you think.

[Stanton] Jessica, dear heart, I've just finished a case

that is perfect fodder for one of your books.

It involves Vaacclav Maryska, the piano virtuoso.

You may have read about his troubles in the paper,

but believe me,

they are only a fraction of the real story.

Thank you, Fritz.

Vaacclav, it's so good to see you again.

Nicole, you look wonderful.

But a year?

You should not stay away so long.

Well, I've been busy, thanks to you, still studying in New York

and I've even played a few concerts

on college campuses.

Nothing like this.

You wait patiently, your turn will come.

Now, tell me,

the room at the hotel, is it satisfactory?

It's fabulous.

Look, will I see you after the concert?

-Oh, I've been counting on it. -Wonderful. Good luck.

Thank you.

Milena, you know Nicole Gary.

[eastern European accent] Of course. Vaacclav is very proud of your success.

-You were an apt pupil. -Thank you.

[stagehand] One minute, everyone, one minute.

Well, I will see you after the concert, maestro.

Yes.

Why did not you tell me the girl was coming?

I thought I had.

Take your seat, Milena.

I've only got a few moments.

No.

I am going home.

This is one concert I prefer not to hear.

[stagehand] Thirty seconds, maestro, thirty seconds.

[applause]

[louder applause]

[classical music]

[expertly plays piano solo]

[orchestra joins in]

[piano solo]

[notes go out of tune]

[plays wrong chord defiantly]

[crowd gasps]

I cannot play a piano that is out of tune.

[crowd murmuring]

[lamp shatters]

What are you doing?

Doing?

I am about to pick up the pieces of this lamp.

What does it look like I'm doing?

You have been drinking.

Sipping.

A great deal of sipping, I'll admit.

Why not?

Fritz called.

I am so sorry about the concert.

Yes.

At least it was short.

Was there ever any doubt about that?

You will excuse me, won't you?

I am going to go into the study.

Oh, there was not enough liquor in the bar?

You had to stop and buy some.

Ah...

But this is Slivovitz, imported brandy.

Very special.

Go ahead.

Drink yourself silly, if that is what you want.

I am going back to bed.

[Vaacclav coughing]

[smoke detector beeping]

[screaming and coughing]

[Vaacclav] A fire!

A fire!

Vaacclav, what is it?

I can't put it out!

Are you all right?

[coughing] I can't put it out!

Vaacclav!

Milena! Milena!

Open the door!

Please help me!

[knock on door]

[man] Open the door!

[knock on door]

[Vaacclav shouting]

Hurry. It is my husband.

Milena!

[officer] Hold on, hold on.

Stand away from the door.

[both coughing]

[fire extinguisher spraying]

[coughing]

Milena, help me.

Help me. My hands.

My God, Milena!

[coughing]

[gasps]

[man] Today is not your day off.

I mean, Saturday is your day off.

Sunday is your day off.

And maybe Christmas, if I am in a good mood,

which I am not at this moment.

Robert, Robert, did you know that stress shortens the life span?

It's all in our actuarial tables.

You should look them over sometime.

I have a case for you.

It's rather routine, actually,

but Mr. Keating thinks you should handle it personally.

Oh, does he?

Then I'm sure it's far from routine.

A couple of years back, we wrote a policy on some piano player

named Mysha... Marishan...

Vaacclav Maryska?

Is he dead?

It would have been cheaper.

He's burned his hands.

Yes, I see.

And the policy insured his hands against injury. How much?

Ten million.

[chuckling] Oh, how routine, Robert.

We have to find a way to get out from underneath this one.

Do you know what fascinates me about you, Robert?

Your pathological belief that everyone who files a claim

is out to cheat our company.

I have been right a few times.

Yes, and a stopped clock

has the correct time twice a day.

Really, Robert.

Should I ask the nurse to get you a pain killer?

No, no.

The pain is not bad.

Oh, Vaacclav, you must tell me what happened.

What happened?

Isn't it obvious?

-[knock at door] -Oh, excuse me.

Mr. Maryska?

I'm Dennis Stanton from Consolidated Casualty Insurance.

Oh, yes, yes. How do you do?

Forgive me for not shaking hands.

This is my wife, Milena.

[Stanton] How do you do?

I've been an admirer of yours for many, many years.

I was lucky enough to attend your Rachmaninoff concerto

in Milan back in '78.

Truly inspired.

You are a man of exceptional taste, Mr. Stanton.

Please sit down, won't you?

No, no, I won't stay.

I just wanted to let you know

that we will process your claim as expeditiously as possible.

Oh, this is very kind.

But we are in no hurry to make a settlement on the fire damage.

Vaacclav's recuperation

is the only thing we must think about for now.

Well, I'm sorry, I haven't made myself clear.

Um, I was referring to the injury policy on your husband's hands.

We have no need for this policy.

My hands will heal.

I will be back playing the piano in a very short time.

Vaacclav?

I came as soon as I heard.

Hello, Mother.

It was nice to meet you, Mr. Stanton.

Thank you.

This is my stepson, Alex Seletz.

Mr. Stanton of the insurance company.

-A pleasure. -Hello.

Well, I didn't mean to intrude.

I just wanted to let you know we are here.

Thank you.

[Milena] Tell me, Mr. Stanton.

How long ago did Vaacclav purchase this insurance on his hands?

More than ten years ago.

You weren't aware of it?

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

[chuckles] But I never pay much attention to those things.

You never think something terrible like this is going to happen.

No, you don't.

On the way home, he bought that

at the liquor store around the corner.

Oh, he was very drunk, Mr. Stanton,

embarrassingly so.

It was not like him.

His cigar was still burning in an ashtray.

And he threw it into that wastebasket.

Excuse me, please.

Of course.

I'll only be a moment.

No, I think not.

But you're very tempting.

That insurance man came by to look at the study.

He seemed very curious about the Slivovitz.

Why?

Did he think something was unusual about this fire?

Why do they have to snoop around?

Have you done something stupid, Vaacclav?

You must tell me you did not set this fire

to purposely burn your hands.

Are you mad?

Go, go, Milena.

Let me rest. Please.

Please.

[dramatic piano music]

[piano music playing]

Lunch at Bernini's, $123?

I was pumping the forensic specialist at the Police Department.

What was her name?

[tape whirs]

Listen, Stanton, I realize I'm interrupting you,

but do you think that maybe you could watch videos on your own time?

Actually, it is in the line of work, Robert.

Well, I hope so because I have spent most of the morning

with Legal looking for loopholes in this policy.

-Ah, there it is! -[tape whirs]

[Stanton] The fifth and sixth bars. He's light years off.

Of course he's off. Don't you read the paper?

The damn piano was out of tune.

[notes go out of tune]

I wonder.

Your hands. I can't believe it.

I've been playing the piano since I was four years old.

Perhaps I have performed enough.

You know, I was thinking

I might concentrate on teaching.

Someone with talent, that is.

-Like you. -Are you serious?

We could fly off to Majorca

where Chopin composed some of his greatest pieces.

I have a villa there, you know.

I could teach you everything I know.

That way I could continue to play,

don't you see, through you.

If I thought you were serious.

But I am. Very much so.

[Milena] Vaacclav.

The doctor says you can go home today.

Oh, excellent. [chuckles] I feel like applauding.

I have to go. We'll talk soon?

Certainly.

Don't. Don't start with me.

It's not what you think.

[man] Out of tune.

I been tuning pianos for 43 years, Mr. Stanton.

So I don't care what the great Maryska says.

I tuned that piano the morning of the concert

and it was perfect.

[playing piano]

You're right, Mr. Morris.

It would seem it was Mr. Maryska

who was out of tune the other evening.

Your son's here, Mrs. Maryska.

Your guest has arrived.

You can't shut him out of your life forever, Milena.

Not once has he apologized for the grief he has given me.

Not one word of remorse or regret.

I have nothing to say to him.

[buzz]

I'll get it, sir.

-Hello, Fritz. -Good afternoon, sir.

Good to see you again.

Are you quite sure you won't need me anymore today, sir?

No, no, Fritz. I can manage. I'll see you tomorrow.

Come in, Alex. Come in.

Ah, it's good to see you.

-How are you feeling? -Better.

-Where's Mother? -In her bedroom.

She'll be out in a moment.

You know, I received the loveliest letter from Madame Devries,

the chairman of the Marseilles Symphony.

I would love to respond but...

I wonder, Alex, would you mind jotting down

-a short note to her? I'll dictate. -No problem.

There's some stationery in the desk drawer.

So Mother still doesn't want to see me, right?

Well, she can be stubborn.

You know that.

She's been hurt for many years.

I think maybe she's afraid to...

To let herself believe that

you've finally straightened yourself out.

Put the paper back.

I'll get your mother.

It's time you two talked.

Alex is here.

I am busy.

I am going for a walk.

Alex will stay.

Whatever you two have to say to each other,

you can say in private.

But you will talk to him, Milena.

Now.

I've had enough of this nonsense.

He says he's ready to forgive you.

Forgive me?

Is he?

Do you happen to have the time, Charlie?

I can't even wear a watch with these bandages.

-Man, bummer. Oh, it's 3:05. -Thank you.

-Oh, do you want me to call you a cab? -No, no, I'll walk. Thank you, Charlie.

[Milena] Stealing money from me for years

to ruin your life with drugs.

[Alex] I don't use drugs anymore!

Oh, really?

I remember hearing those same words

many, many times from you.

Thank you, Mother. Thank you for understanding.

[Milena] That is enough.

[glass breaks]

[door slams]

[suspenseful music]

I'm sorry I'm late.

Have you been waiting long?

A little. What time is it?

Uh, 4:15.

Something wrong?

No, I just-- I had a phone call to make

and I got lost and... what difference does it make?

-I'm here now. -[laughs] That's right.

What would you like?

Cafe au lait, please.

Two, please.

So have you given any more thought to Majorca?

Oh, yes.

It's a wonderful dream.

Is that what you think it is, only a dream?

Vaacclav, I thought you were joking.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Well, I'm very, very flattered.

But I've got my studies in New York and I've booked concerts for the summer.

Cancel them.

And as for your studies,

I can teach you as well as anyone in New York.

Maybe better.

You're a very persuasive man.

Then it's settled. Good, I'll make the arrangements.

Wait, wait, wait. I didn't say I could go.

But you will consider it?

Huh?

Don't these look wonderful?

[Vaacclav] Remember the young pianist I was telling you about?

Well, I found a recording of his...

Ah, Mr. Maryska.

This basket of fruit came for you.

-[Nicole] I'll take that. -Oh, thank you.

Oh, I forgot my key.

Will you let us in, Charlie?

No problem. Let me carry that.

Okay. Thanks.

The door wasn't locked.

It wasn't?

Milena?

Milena, are you here?

Put the fruit in the pantry, Charlie.

-Would you care for some tea? -Sure. I'll make it.

Good.

Milena?

Hmm.

[dramatic music]

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

Oh, Milena.

Milena!

Oh, no, no, no.

Check the service entrance, have somebody question the neighbors

and get that doorman back here. I want to talk to him again.

Stanton, what are you doing here?

I was going to ask you the same thing, Lieutenant.

Well, since I'm a homicide cop,

it's a pretty safe bet that somebody's been killed.

Who's the victim?

Lady of the house. One slug in the heart.

Now, make yourself scarce, I got some work to do.

Mr. Stanton.

As soon as I catch up with an old friend.

Is there anybody in this town you don't know?

May I offer my most heartfelt condolences, Mr. Maryska.

This is beyond my comprehension.

First my hands,

now this.

I'm ready to answer your questions now, Lieutenant.

I'll make this as fast as I can, sir.

When was the last time you saw your wife alive?

Right before I went out.

My stepson had come by to talk to his mother.

Oh, yeah.

Albert somebody or other.

Alex, I believe.

That's right, Mr. Stanton.

Alex Seletz.

He came by to try and make peace with her.

Make peace about what?

Oh, they hadn't gotten along for years.

I had hoped the two of them could work things out,

so I went out for a walk.

Well, now, the doorman said that was at 3:05.

That's correct.

Then I strolled down to this little cafe,

where I met a former student of mine,

Miss Nicole Gary.

She was with me when I...

When I discovered my wife's body.

Miss Gary is in the guest bedroom,

trying to compose herself.

When did you meet Miss Gary?

Nice to see you again, Stanton.

Drop by again sometime when you've got some business here.

Lieutenant,

[softly] I had a notion that we might join up on this one,

like Holmes and Watson or Nick and Nora.

How about this one?

Butt out and adios.

Crude.

[woman] You want to hear what I've got on this Maryska fellow?

[Stanton] Absolutely.

Well, it's right out of a Jerzy Kosinski novel.

He was orphaned during the Second World War at 13,

a member of the underground until he was arrested at 14,

and stuck in a Nazi internment camp.

He's made mountains of money,

but he carries the overhead of a Fortune 500 company.

He's got houses in Rome, in London, Majorca.

A fancy apartment here in San Francisco. And that is just the real estate.

A man, it would seem,

with a formidable need for money.

Yeah, and another thing.

As I was cross-checking the files,

his hands weren't the only thing we had insured.

-Oh? -We also carried a $200,000 policy

on Mrs. Maryska.

Really?

But if you are thinking that

he knocked her off for the insurance, you're wrong.

He wasn't the beneficiary. Her son was.

A guy named Alex Seletz.

I still can't believe my mother's dead.

We didn't get along at all, you know.

I should never have gone to see her in the first place.

[Stanton] Why did you?

It was my stepfather's idea.

I see.

Look, I didn't kill my mother.

Well, perhaps not.

Either way it's only a matter of time

before Lieutenant Catalano comes knocking at your door.

He's as tenacious as a bulldog,

a sort of Javert in a cheap suit,

and he never fails to jump to the wrong conclusion.

If I were you, I'd talk to a good lawyer and soon.

[Vaacclav] Calm yourself, Alex.

Calm yourself.

The police haven't charged you, have they?

No, but it's like they already assume I'm guilty.

It's just procedure, I'm sure.

I only wish you had reconciled

before her death.

Oh, she could be a very hard woman.

But she loved you.

And I'm getting $200,000 to prove it.

I'd rather have her alive.

The way things used to be when you two first got married,

you remember?

Those were some pretty good days.

[sighs] Yes, they were.

Do you need something?

Yeah, my reading glasses.

They must be in my briefcase.

Oh, I left it out in the cab. Would you mind getting it for me, Alex?

No.

I'll be right back.

[melancholic music]

[Catalano] Look, I don't want to hear about it.

Search the office again

and then search his apartment a third time.

I want that gun!

Hey, look, you missed the letter the first time around, didn't you?

Now just do it!

What about that letter, Perry?

What do you got, paid spies in here?

Oh, my sources are my own business and so is that letter.

Or perhaps you're unaware that our firm held a policy

on Mrs. Maryska.

The beneficiary is your suspect.

Is that the truth?

Afraid it is. So please.

Okay, but keep your grubby paws off of it.

"Give me $500,000, or I will kill you."

Where was this found?

It was buried in Mrs. Maryska's personal papers.

We just dug it up this morning.

How convenient.

You want to know what I think?

The ransacking was obviously just a cover-up,

because nothing was missing.

Now, Seletz shows up at the apartment with a gun equipped with a silencer,

since nobody heard a shot.

Now, that's premeditated, Stanton, murder one.

I see this has been dusted for prints.

Oh, yeah.

We got some prints, all right.

Two sets, clear as day.

The victim's, when she read it,

and the killer's, Seletz, when he wrote it.

-He admitted that to you? -He didn't have to.

As soon as we found this,

we ran off a sample on the typewriter from his desk at the drug rehab center.

That letter was typed on that machine.

I don't get it, Stanton.

If the kid's guilty, your company's off the hook.

And you're acting like I just kicked your pet puppy dog or something.

You ought to be thanking me for solving your case for you.

Yes, well, thank you, Lieutenant.

I'm sure my superiors will be delighted.

You're welcome!

[Stanton] Any progress on the Maryska finances?

Yeah, I backtracked his charge cards

for the past six months.

The guy sure knows how to spend money.

Sort of reminds me of your expense accounts.

Rhoda, dear, if one's going to go to the bother of living,

one might as well do it comfortably.

Right.

Anyway, there were several trips back and forth to New York

and one to Rochester, Minnesota.

Rochester, Minnesota?

There is only one earthly reason

that anyone would go to Rochester, Minnesota,

the Mayo Clinic. Find out what he was up to.

Listen, I know I'm just a lowly secretary,

but would you let me in on something?

You really think Maryska killed his wife?

Possibly.

Next you're going to tell me that he deliberately burned his own hands.

Uh, excuse me, don't you think it's a little early in the day for that?

Even for you?

[clears throat]

[stutters] Take a little sip of that.

Gently.

What is that, lighter fluid?

Might as well be.

Observe.

Makes a wonderful incendiary, doesn't it?

You know, it's a curious thing.

Maryska was very, very drunk when he came home.

And yet, he was still able to consume

an entire bottle of this Slivovitz.

Or so it appears.

Maybe he's got a hollow leg.

Well, dear heart.

I understand that Mr. Maryska is dining out tonight.

In his absence, I think I'll drop in on his apartment.

I may be able to stumble onto something the Lieutenant overlooked?

[suspenseful music]

[lock clicking]

Mr. Maryska?

Is there anyone here?

[whispering] I'm sure I heard someone.

Maybe you should check the bedroom.

[suspenseful music continues]

Ah.

-Thirty-two seconds, same as before. -[sighs]

Robert, come in, come in.

I know there is a reasonable explanation

why you are sitting here, typing with mittens on.

But of course.

Boxing gloves were too cumbersome.

[scoffs]

"Give me $500,000, or I will kill you."

Nice, short, to the point.

What the hell's it all about?

Well, it's my clumsy way of trying to prove a point.

Of establishing, if you will, that the impossible is possible.

Oh, I get it.

You think that Maryska,

even with his hands all burned up,

might have been able to type the extortion note.

-Well, actually, that's only a part of it. -Now, now, wait a minute.

The police have arrested the son.

When he is convicted,

that will save the company $200,000.

Stanton, please,

this is an apple cart I do not wish to upset.

Yes, that would be very convenient, but it would hardly be justice.

Come on!

His fingerprints were all over the letter.

The letter was typed on a machine in his office down at the rehab center.

Now, Robert, last night I paid a visit

to Vaacclav Maryska's apartment.

Oh, what did he do, confess?

[chuckles] He wasn't there.

Uh-huh... Oh, no, wait a minute. I don't think--

While I was waiting around,

I inadvertently looked into the wall safe in the study.

-I can't hear this. -You'll never guess what I found.

What?

Two tickets to Majorca,

one in the name of Vaacclav Maryska,

the other was made out to Nicole Gary,

-his former student. -So?

Well, the date of departure is the day after tomorrow.

But what is fascinating is,

that the tickets were purchased nearly two months ago.

Now, two months ago,

Maryska was scheduled to be in Tokyo this week

for the second leg of his world tour.

Oh...

so that means he knew.

Oh, yes, I'm afraid he did.

And I'll tell you what else I found.

-A gun. -The murder weapon?

No, no, no, no, no.

Milena Maryska was killed with a .38. This was a .32 automatic.

But it certainly indicates

that someone in that household is familiar with guns.

That was the Mayo Clinic.

Maryska was there in April and underwent some tests,

but the results are confidential.

So if you want more information, you're just gonna have to call the doctor,

a Gerhardt Hummel.

Good girl. Now, get me a number for this Dr. Hummel.

Where are we calling from?

Well, the County General, where else?

Let's see.

Hospital, hospital, hospital.

Oh, I don't believe this.

Hospital coming up.

Hospital.

[recorded voice] Dr. Perry to OR...

Uh, yes, Dr. Hummel. One moment, please.

This is Dr. Dennis Stanton calling from San Francisco.

-[recording continues] -Dr. Hummel, sorry to trouble you.

Dr. Dennis Stanton, San Francisco.

It's about a patient of yours, Vaacclav Maryska.

He tells me that he was in to see you last April.

Oh, yes, yes, a lovely man.

Yes, and a great talent. Yes.

No, he told me about the tests only this morning.

You know how tight-lipped these Europeans can be. [chuckles]

Yes, I'm afraid he was very unspecific, medically speaking.

Yes.

Degenerative arthritis.

I suspected as much.

Severely affecting his hands. Yes, my conclusion precisely.

That soon?

Well, yes.

Well, if I need to know anything else, I'll get in touch.

Right.

[recording] ...the family of John Hu--

[tape ejects]

Well?

Within a year,

he would have lost nearly all the dexterity in both hands.

All right!

Then we're off the hook for ten mil.

I mean, arthritis is a disease,

but the policy only covered accidental injury.

Wait. Excuse me, Mr. Butler.

But arthritis or not, the man was injured.

Absolutely correct, Rhoda.

But Robert may also be right.

We may be off the hook if Vaacclav Maryska's burns

were self-inflicted, which I believe they were.

The larger and more difficult question is,

how do we go about proving it?

[melancholic music]

[delicate piano music]

[Vaacclav] I have a surprise for you.

Reach into my pocket here. It's in an envelope.

What is this?

Two first-class tickets to Majorca.

I told you, I have a villa there, it overlooks the bay.

But these tickets are for tomorrow.

Well, why delay the inevitable? The weather is lovely this time of year.

I can't leave just like that.

I told you, I'm still in school and I've got concerts booked.

I realize this may be a bit sudden.

I am also well aware of the difference in our ages,

but you are the only good thing that's ever happened to me.

-[phone rings] -I'll get it.

No, let it ring. This is more important.

Hello?

There's a Mr. Stanton downstairs to see you.

What does he want now? Tell him to come back tomorrow.

I'm sorry, but Mr. Maryska is busy at the moment.

He says he has a check for you.

Oh, very well, let him come up.

Send him up. Thank you.

I'll get rid of him quickly.

No need.

-I have to leave. -Nicole, please stay.

Please, I didn't mean to upset you.

I think it's best if we don't see each other for a while.

I'll call you from New York.

New York? No.

No, you can't. Everything's arranged.

But for me, it isn't.

Please don't say any more.

Nicole...

I love you.

And I know you love me.

I can see it in your face.

The way you look at me.

No.

I admire you.

And I respect you.

And for years, I felt sorry for you

for being stuck in a difficult marriage.

But that's all.

You don't know what you're saying.

I am engaged to be married, Vaacclav.

Married?

No.

I didn't tell you, because I knew what you would say.

That I was throwing away my future.

It isn't true, but you wouldn't understand that.

He's a composer, Vaacclav.

He's bright and talented and young.

You forced me to tell you.

And I'm sorry.

[somber piano music]

Ah.

Miss Gary, I presume.

I seem to have come at a very bad time.

You look as if you could use a drink.

Knowing how much you like it,

I bought you this bottle of Slivovitz yesterday.

Do you have a check for me?

Please give it to me, Mr. Stanton, and then leave. Huh?

Your check, maestro.

But I do think it would verge on the sacrilegious

if I were to hand over $10 million

without at least one celebratory drink.

You know, now that this claim has been settled

I'm free to tell you that there were moments

when I had serious doubts about this case.

Prosit.

[coughs] Excellent.

I must remember this label.

Doubts?

What, uh, doubts?

Well, nothing serious, taken separately.

But it's just that, added together,

they presented a very disturbing picture.

For instance, the piano.

That was the first thing that bothered me.

It was not out of tune.

[playing piano]

But you knew that.

Of course you did.

And then, there was that doctor I discovered in Minnesota.

What was his name?

Hummel. Dr. Hummel.

He was the one that diagnosed your arthritis.

You are mistaken.

A terrible affliction for some people,

but in a case like yours, it spelled the end of a career,

the end of a lifestyle to which you had grown accustomed.

And a bizarre thought occurred to me.

Could a man facing total ruin find it within himself

to deliberately burn his own hands?

Well, if the reward were immense wealth for the rest of his life,

perhaps so,

if he were drunk enough to numb the pain.

I think you had better go.

Yes, of course.

Oh, by the way,

I took the liberty of borrowing your wastebasket,

the one the fire started in.

I plan to send it to a lab

that's able to conduct those sophisticated tests

that detect the trace elements of combustants in fires.

Like, well, brandy, for example.

If traces of Slivovitz were found in your wastebasket,

it might follow that the fire was not accidental.

I've pieced together a rather intriguing scenario.

Would you care to hear it?

Why not, since you seem insistent about telling me.

Splendid.

Now, I presume your wife knew about the arthritis,

and that it spelled the end of your career.

She probably also sensed

that you had set the fire deliberately

and she knew it was wrong

for you to take the insurance money.

Have you done something stupid, Vaacclav?

[Stanton] But what she didn't know was,

that you planned to fly off with Miss Gary to Majorca.

You purchased the tickets months ago.

Yes, your wife stood in the way of everything.

Miss Gary, the insurance claim.

You had to get rid of her in such a way

that someone else would be accused of the crime.

Your stepson was the logical candidate.

Somehow, you got him to handle a piece of stationery,

thereby getting his fingerprints on the paper.

Then you left your son-in-law and your wife alone,

knowing that they'd argue.

You walked out past the doorman,

making certain that he noticed the time.

But you didn't go for a walk, did you?

You reentered the building through the service entrance,

you went up the service stairs,

and you waited till your stepson left.

Then you came in here,

and you shot your wife.

Using the piece of stationery that your stepson had handled,

you pressed your dead wife's fingers against it,

so that her prints would later be detected by the police.

Then you went out through the service entrance

and took a cab, not a walk,

to meet Miss Gary for coffee.

Shall I continue?

Please do. I'm fascinated.

Finally, using the piece of stationery

you typed the threatening letter at the drug clinic,

while you sent poor Alex out to get your briefcase from a taxi.

Yes, he told me about that little diversion.

Very imaginative, Mr. Maryska.

Brilliant, you fool.

How am I supposed to have shot my wife...

with these?

Yes, yes, that does have me puzzled.

But I'll let the police deal with that little detail.

Tell me, Mr. Stanton.

If you believe all this,

why did you bring me a check?

Oh, come, come, Mr. Maryska.

It's one thing to accuse a poor man.

It's quite another to throw suspicion on a man

who's just come into $10 million.

Apropos of which, did you know

that I get the same salary

no matter how successful I may be

at saving my firm money?

Something basically un-American about that, wouldn't you say?

So we're talking blackmail, huh?

Oh, no, that word has such a nasty ring to it.

I prefer to think of it as

two gentlemen sharing a generous bounty.

I'm not a greedy man.

10% would be more than adequate.

Is a personal check acceptable?

Of course.

[sighs]

You are very clever, Mr. Stanton.

But the thought of you hounding me

the rest of my life

is not my idea of a peaceful retirement.

-[groans] -Oh, come now.

There's no need to behave so childishly.

You overlooked one thing, Mr. Stanton.

[breathlessly] If I was able to kill once,

I can kill again.

Oh, come now.

You're bluffing.

You can't pull that trigger.

Why?

Because of the pain?

Yes.

When I was a very young man,

I was tortured by experts, Mr. Stanton.

This...

[shudders]

this is nothing.

[yells]

[gunshot]

Police!

We heard a shot.

[gasps]

Why, Perry, what took you so long?

Last night, I dropped by.

I took the liberty of replacing the real shells in that gun with blanks.

It was all theory, you know.

None of it would hold up unless we could prove

that you were physically able to fire a gun.

Then this...

it was all for nothing.

For nothing.

All right, Stanton, not bad.

But what would you have done if he hadn't gone for the gun?

Oh, that's simple, Perry.

Go on back to the office

and try to explain to Mr. Butler

why he wouldn't be getting his $10 million back.

Cheers.

[coughs]