Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranî)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
Hey, neighbors, this is Daffy Dave Novaro.
-Jessica Fletcher? -Yes.
Consider yourself served by the State Court of New York.
Anything to see that snake squirm.
The manicurist is telling everyone
I am married to a murderer.
I just wanted to take her head and stick it in the cuticle softener.
You’ve ruined my life. I’ve got nothin’ left.
So he beat the rap. As far as I’m concerned,
the guy’s guilty as hell. Excuse me.
And every day you wait is gonna cost you money.
I can’t believe the number of lives I seem to have disrupted.
I also know my father.
He wants restitution, treble damages,
the whole ball of wax. Ten million.
So help me, Fletcher, you’re gonna pay.
What do you think, Jessica?
Well, it certainly is dramatic.
Lurid is more like it, but it’s what sells paperbacks.
Well, the timing couldn’t be better,
with The Uncaught on the Times best-seller list
for nine consecutive months,
-The paperback will go through the roof. -I take it you approve.
Um... how would you feel about putting a red rose in her outstretched hand?
It would sort of soften it a little bit.
Implying the love that once was.
That’s great.
I’m gonna miss my plane.
I’ll call you a cab.
I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward
to sitting on the beach in Maui,
and doing absolutely nothing,
and loving every minute of it.
You’re sure I can’t talk you into one book-signing in Honolulu?
I’m sorry, Ted, but not even an erupting volcano will prevent me--
Stop, please! You can’t go back there.
-Jessica Fletcher? -Yes.
Consider yourself served by the State Court of New York.
I’m sorry, Mr. Hartley.
Just so you don’t feel cheated, Mr. Hartley,
I got one for you.
"David Novaro, plaintiff."
Who the devil’s David Novaro?
[man] Okay, let’s try it again. Daffy Dave, take five...
... and cue Dave.
Hey, neighbors, this is Daffy Dave Novaro
telling you to run, don’t walk,
to Daffy Dave’s videorama. Look at this.
Every set red-tagged at prices
you’re not gonna believe.
No wonder they call me Daffy.
Look here. Two, three, ha hoo.
I made a mistake on that,
-Maybe we can go back and do this again. -Cut.
-Sorry, Eli. I’m kinda distracted. -Yeah, tell me about it.
How about we take a break?
[man over P.A.] Daffy Dave is currently having
a two-for-one videotape...
Dave, one more phone call from our suppliers,
and I’m gonna scream. You’ve gotta sign these checks.
Lillian, not now, huh?
Ramon, who are you gonna sell back to here, me?
Up front muy pronto.
Yes, Sir, Mr. Dave.
How about some good news for a change,
like some bucks comin’ in?
What’s the problem this time?
-You’re his partner. You talk to him. -What am I gonna say?
Some dame writes a book and ruins his life, he should forget about it?
Our life, Neil.
It’s ruining our life.
Another month like the last one,
and we’re out of business.
Mrs. Fletcher, your mystery novel, The Uncaught
do you remember your source material?
My source material.
Specifically relating to the young wife’s murder.
I believe in your book, you called her Rebecca Galway.
Aaron, there was no source material.
The entire plot-- the situation, the characters--
they all came out of my imagination.
You’re absolutely sure?
Because according to Novaro’s lawyer,
The Uncaught is a thinly disguised account
of his first wife’s murder five years ago.
That’s absurd.
That’s only the half of it.
Novaro was charged with the murder,
and was eventually exonerated.
The case against him was dropped, closed.
Until my book comes along,
inflicting severe mental anguish,
economic hardship, et cetera, et cetera.
That’s what they’re claiming, yes.
What damages are they asking?
With restitution, treble damages,
the whole ball of wax, ten million.
What about our errors and omissions insurance?
-Doesn’t that cover us? -Only up until five million,
but that won’t help Mrs. Fletcher.
Since you wrote the book, the insurance company could turn around
and sue you for full restitution.
In your contract with Ted, you represented
that it was your own original material.
[groans] [Jessica] And it was.
Ted, will you stop fretting?
Not only have I never heard of this man,
nor of the circumstances surrounding his late wife,
in my book, the man is guilty of the murder.
Which, unfortunately, could work against you.
Oh, yeah, that claim of severe mental anguish.
In the eyes of the law, Novaro was judged innocent,
and therefore entitled to his good reputation.
Well, as far as I’m concerned,
the charges are totally capricious,
and I’m not gonna allow them to stop me
from taking the first flight to Hawaii.
Mrs. Fletcher, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.
You’re scheduled to give a deposition tomorrow morning.
I see.
Well, in that case,
Ted, I would like your research staff
to dig up every iota of information that you can
about the Novaro murder, and the quicker, the better.
I’ll get right on that.
Trust me, Ted.
I write fiction,
and that’s all my book is...
a pure fiction.
[woman on P.A.] Attention, all Daffy Dave shoppers.
Uh-oh. Tell the wife I’m in conference, okay?
Yes, Sir.
Remember, Dave’s not crazy; he’s just a little Daffy.
No, you don’t, Dave.
Hi, sweetheart.
What happened to the aerobics class?
I’ve had it, Dave. Today is the last straw.
Please, Iris, not here.
Just now, at the hairdresser’s,
the manicurist is telling everyone
I am married to a murderer.
I just wanted to take her head and stick it in
-the cuticle softener. -I’m sorry, honey.
And this morning, after you left the house,
three calls from tabloids wanting articles
on "I married a killer." Three phone calls, Dave.
-Okay, okay. -No, it is not okay.
Dave, ever since that book came out,
it’s like... it’s like I don’t exist anymore.
You’re never home, we never talk,
you haven’t touched me in months.
-It’s like I’m married to a zombie. -Iris!
It is just like five years ago,
-and I have had it. -Can we talk about this later?
Dave, there is no later. I’m seeing a lawyer.
No. Now, come on.
I know I’ve been a little crazy lately,
trying to hold the business together, but I swear, honey,
we’re gonna walk away from this lawsuit with millions.
And then, it’s just you and me, babe.
I swear I’ll make it all up to you.
We’ll travel, maybe buy that house in the mountains.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. It’s always maybe with you.
So at least think it over, okay?
I mean, divorce? Iris.
It’s not like returning a dress to Bergdorf’s.
We’re talkin’ a lifetime here.
Commitment.
I love you, Iris.
I need you, now more than ever.
Well...
it’s not like I’m gonna change my mind or anything.
Hey, that’s all a guy has to hear.
-Hello, Iris. -Oh! Hi, Neil.
You okay?
I couldn’t help but overhear.
If you need someone to talk to...
Oh, Neil, that’s sweet of you. Thanks.
But this is between Dave and me.
Just remember, I’m here for you,
just like the old days.
You don’t give up, do you, Neil?
Well, did you tell him?
I tried to.
I thought he was gonna go ballistic on me,
so I promised him I’d think it over.
Oh, Randy, don’t be like that.
He is going through hell right now.
I’ll tell him about us next week.
I gotta tell you, Iris, I’m worried.
Why? Oh, honey, we’re gonna do this.
I’m talking about time and timing,
not for me, for you.
And videorama’s dying.
Every day you wait is gonna cost you money.
You know, if I thought for one minute
that this, us, was about money...
Look, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.
Honey, I’m sorry.
If you still love this guy, please, just say so.
Come on, you know that isn’t true.
Look, all I’m saying is, if you love someone
who gave a bum like Novaro the best years of her life,
you want that person to get what she’s entitled to,
no matter what it is, right?
[reporter on tv] Local tv huckster Daffy Dave Novaro
has brought a $10 million
defamation of character lawsuit
against famed mystery writer J.B. Fletcher
and her publisher.
Seen here five years ago at the time of his arrest
-for the murder of his wife-- -Artie Gelber?
Accompanied by his lawyer, Novaro had this to say
earlier today.
Sure, I’m gonna sue. Wouldn’t you?
I thought I went through the ultimate pain
five years ago when someone murdered Janet.
Well, this book has brought it all back in spades.
[phone rings]
Hello.
Hello, Mrs. Fletcher, a Mr. Trent is here to see you.
Ah, thank you, Richie. Have him come right up, please.
I just wanted to thank you for proving to the world what I always knew.
Jury or no jury,
Dave Novaro murdered my daughter.
Mr. Trent, I can appreciate how you feel,
but there is no connection whatsoever between my book
and Janet Novaro’s tragic death.
That’s impossible.
The truth is, I agreed to see you
because I hoped that you could spread some light
on the discrepancies which will help to prove my point.
But it’s all there,
even their most intimate marital problems.
You mean, she had an affair?
Almost. She came this close. She told me.
But Janet wasn’t that kind of woman,
despite the fact that, like the couple in your novel,
Novaro was so obsessed with his business,
he didn’t have time for her.
Divorce was inevitable.
But that’s not the case in my book.
Mrs. Fletcher, you’re splitting hairs.
I’ll give you the only difference.
David Novaro murdered not once, but twice.
Twice?
My wife, Mrs. Fletcher. Janet’s mother.
She never recovered from the grief.
She died six months after Janet was murdered.
I’m sorry.
So if I can be of help...
perhaps by testifying on your behalf,
anything, let me know.
Anything to see that snake squirm.
Well, thank you, Mr. Trent.
It’s quite clear that we have vastly different motives,
and while I can understand how you feel,
I have no wish to hurt Mr. Novaro.
I only want to prove to him, and to you,
that you are mistaken about my book.
You do what you have to do,
and I’ll do what I have to do.
It was routine stuff.
Pretty much like in your book.
He and his wife get separated,
she goes and has the locks changed.
He’s smart.
His garage door opener still works,
but instead, Novaro breaks through a window,
bludgeons his wife to death,
and steals a bunch of jewelry
to make it look like it was a burglary.
-Novaro? -Okay, so he beat the rap.
As far as I’m concerned, the guy’s guilty as hell. Excuse me.
-You’re sure? -Trust me. Jessica,
the guy’d be rotting in prison
if it wasn’t for one key piece of evidence
-Falling apart on us. -Which was?
Faulty lab report of Novaro’s DNA.
DNA?
Taken from a particle of skin
found under the wife’s fingernails,
just like in your book.
You know, it’s amazing.
I was in Cabot Cove when I wrote The Uncaught.
I never heard of the case, but one after another,
the similarities just keep piling up.
Come on, Jessica, this is Artie.
You didn’t see a New York paper? It got a lot of ink.
Look, Artie, I’m positive.
Yeah, so how come, in here,
you’ve even got the wife’s husband ditching the car
in a reservoir to make it look like the intruder used it for a getaway?
You mean that’s what actually happened?
The Croton Reservoir.
They fished it out a couple of days later.
But there are differences, aren’t there?
Oh, sure, a couple of minor things.
The weapon, the time of day, the number of kids.
Oh, yeah, your guy stole some...
your guy stole some rare stamps
to make it look like a robbery instead of the jewelry.
And, oh, of course,
your killer used a garage door opener to get in.
Anything else?
Yeah. I’m trying to get rid of my car.
Eight years old, low mileage, mint condition.
Driven by a little old Police Lieutenant from Queens
who spends more money on parking than he does for rent.
Well, I’ll keep my ears open.
That isn’t quite what I had in mind.
I was hoping that you could help me write an ad.
You know, a grabber. Fresh, but not too different.
-Novaro? -His daughter.
Real piece of work herself if our phone conversations are any indication.
You know, I can’t remember the last time
I had to give a deposition.
Don’t worry.
You’re gonna be just fine.
Hey, doesn’t counsel get a goodbye hug?
I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetheart.
[clears throat]
Oh, I’ll be right with you, Mr. Woodman.
Mrs. Fletcher.
-You! -Daddy.
Lady, you’ve ruined my life.
I’ve got nothing left.
My business, my marriage, my health,
gone, down the tubes, all thanks to you.
Mr. Novaro, please, you should not be speaking to my client.
Oh, that’s right, I forgot.
We gotta keep it civilized.
She can call me a wife killer,
but we gotta protect your client at all costs.
Mr. Novaro, have you read The Uncaught?
What for? To aggravate myself all over again?
Thanks but no thanks.
Well, perhaps you should read it
before disrupting both of our lives.
Look, I’m sorry for any discomfort you may have experienced,
but my book is not what you or your advisors think.
Right, and I’m Jojo the Dog-faced Boy.
Daddy, I’ll handle this, I promise. Go now.
But I’ll get even.
So help me, Fletcher, you’re gonna pay.
Now, Mrs. Fletcher, about the murderer’s motive.
In my book, the motive is two-fold.
Misguided love turned to hatred,
and money,
as it is with any number of mystery novels
since the genre was invented.
We’re taking a deposition, Mrs. Fletcher,
not writing an editorial.
That cuts both ways, Counselor.
One last question.
Do you recall the value you placed
on the block of rare stamps--
the so-called inverted block
of 1924 U.S. air mails
the husband in your book planned to convert
into cash after the murder?
Yes, it was $250,000.
$250,000.
Exactly the appraised value of the diamond necklace
that was stolen while my mother lay dead.
While the victim lay dead.
Correction noted,
as is the fact that both the appraisal of the victim’s necklace,
and the summary of Mr. Novaro’s financial problems
were made public knowledge during his trial.
[machine beeps off]
Thank you both. We’ll be in touch.
Excuse me, Miss Novaro.
-I presume this is your mother. -Mm-hmm.
And this would be the necklace that was stolen.
A few pieces were recovered when they found my mother’s car,
but not the necklace.
If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.
It’s absolutely uncanny, Ted.
I mean, the similarities between my book and the Novaro affair
far outweigh the differences.
I hate to admit it.
It doesn’t look good.
Well, well, well.
I thought that was you.
I beg your pardon.
Iris. Mrs Iris Novaro.
Now surely, that name rings a bell.
-Young lady, please. -You and your lousy book.
You know, you wrecked my marriage.
Oh, Mrs. Novaro, please, sit down.
With you? You gotta be kidding.
I oughta be suing you, too, the way you made me look.
I beg your pardon.
Yeah, I was Dave’s secretary before we were married.
But I was not a bimbo the way you had it,
and we were not fooling around.
Uh, Marcel.
The past was over and done with
until your book came along.
Madam, please, if you continue, I will have to ask you to leave.
I hope Dave takes you to the cleaners.
Now don’t take it to heart, Jessica.
The woman’s obviously disturbed.
Well, that makes two of us.
I can’t believe the number of lives I seem to have disrupted.
I just hate seeing you being battered from pillar to post like this.
Think.
You yourself say there’s enough damning evidence
to convince a jury.
Not to mention the astronomical legal costs
-if we go to trial. -Ted, what are you saying?
I’m suggesting that you give some serious thought
to an out-of-court settlement.
No, I can’t.
Don’t reject it out of hand, Jess.
Collins was right. Because of all the publicity,
The Uncaught is selling like wildfire.
We lose, but we win.
Ted, you are completely missing my point.
A settlement would be an admission
that I had stolen Dave Novaro’s story,
that I had purposely smeared him,
and I didn’t,
and somehow, I am going to prove it.
Hey, Woodman.
Couldn’t get a cab, huh?
Oh, that’s cute. Let me guess, you drive a porsche.
I did. Traded it in for a beemer.
Oh, well, that figures. Well, Mr. Beemer.
This is for you. It’s a court order
barring further sales and promotion of The Uncaught.
Have a nice day.
Hey. Hey, wait a minute.
I can’t. I’m low on air.
Dave.
I thought you were thinking it over.
Dave, not here.
Moving out of the house, that’s thinking it over?
That’s not a house, it’s a morgue.
I need some space. I need a place to breathe.
Okay.
But I still got a chance, right?
Oh, Dave, I don’t know.
-You forgot to take Freddie. -Dave
I won him for you at Coney Island, remember?
Right next to Nathan’s.
Yeah. Look, he’s still got his mustard stains, too.
Yeah. And the trial.
Five years ago.
Our signal meaning "I love you."
I know. Everyone thought I had an allergy.
That kept me going, doll.
You bein’ there for me.
Ah, don’t worry.
I gotta take off now.
As long as I still have a chance.
That’s all I ask.
How could you, Rachel?
How could you represent that monster?
Grandpa, he’s my father. I love him.
He also murdered your mother, or don’t you remember?
Oh, I remember. And I wish you would, too.
A jury decided he was innocent.
Wrong. All that jury decided
was the prosecution failed to prove its case.
I’ll never forget the night I called her
to tell her I was accepted at NYU law school.
She was so happy, she couldn’t wait to tell daddy.
And then...
look, grandpa, we both know
you didn’t like daddy from the time you met him.
I accept that.
But you have to accept where I’m coming from.
You look just like your mother.
What I’m trying to say is you’ve gotta put
all these awful memories behind you,
for both our sakes.
She was so beautiful.
So full of life.
She’d walk into a room, and it was like the sun--
Grandpa, please.
She could’ve had anybody.
Anybody.
But she had to run off and marry him.
It got you me.
I love you, grandpa.
And I love you, honey.
But it’s not right.
It’s not right that your mother lies dead in her grave,
and he’s still alive.
Grandpa, I know I can’t change your mind,
but you aren’t gonna change mine.
You owe it to your mother.
What?
To let that woman crucify my father?
You’ve gotta stop this.
Why? Because he was nice to you?
Al Capone was nice to his kids.
-That’s not fair. -Life’s not fair, Rachel.
Your father got off on a technicality, and you know it.
Listen, Dave, I’ve just gone over the books.
We need to start cuttin’ expenses,
beginnin’ with the commercials.
Neil, not now. I’m busy.
Yeah, Dave, all that production.
It’s costin’ us a fortune,
and they’re not bringin’ in any business.
We gotta do ’em on the cheap or forget ’em.
Listen, you, I call the shots around here,
and don’t you forget it.
Ever since we were kids, everything you got
was thanks to me, so go now, huh?
Don’t make me sorry I took you along for the ride.
I finished the payroll, Dave, and I’ll lock up.
Thanks, Lillian.
Oh, by the way,
we have to go over the accounts tomorrow.
I wanna know where all this money’s going.
Well, sure, Dave.
Any time.
I’m sorry it’s not working with Iris.
Funny. When we were in high school,
the biggest crisis of our lives
was who we were gonna end up with at the prom.
Remember?
I thought you’d never ask, and then you called.
Then and there, I figured, that’s it.
We were gonna get married, and have a bunch of kids.
But that’s life, huh?
[phone ringing]
Hello. Who?
Dave Novaro, Mrs. Fletcher.
Listen, we gotta talk right away.
Look, I’m sorry, Mr. Novaro,
but I heard all I wanna hear from you this morning.
No, you don’t understand.
-I’m thinking of dropping the lawsuit. -What?
I took what you said to heart.
I’ve been reading your book.
And thanks to you,
I think I know who murdered my wife,
but I gotta ask you a couple of questions.
Look, I must tell you, Mr. Novaro,
my attorney has advised me not to talk to you
under any circumstances.
Please, Mrs. Fletcher, I was a lousy husband,
but I loved my wife.
Nailing her killer means more to me
than all the money in the world.
Well, all right, Mr. Novaro.
My address is 941 West 60th, Apartment 4B.
Apartment 4B. Got it.
I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
[knocking on door]
[knocking continues]
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
It’s kinda cold out here tonight, Dave.
Hilda, what do you think I am, a money machine?
Here. Here’s ten bucks.
Go get yourself something to eat,
but this is the last time.
God bless you, Dave.
[busy signal]
That’s curious.
Operator.
Operator, I’ve been calling a number that’s been busy over an hour.
I wonder, could you check to see
if someone’s talking on the line?
-The number, please? -555-4410.
Will you pay the charges?
Yes, I’ll pay the charge.
There’s no one on the line.
-No one on the line. -That’s correct, ma’am.
Thank you very much.
-Well? -Drives okay.
You offering any kind of warranty?
What do you want from me? The car’s eight years old.
You see what kind of great shape it’s in.
[phone rings]
Gelber.
Jessica, I thought all the regular people were asleep.
I’m sorry to bother you, Artie,
but I’m concerned.
Something may have happened to Dave Novaro.
-How so? -He was due at my apartment
over two hours ago.
Could you meet me at his store?
Why not? I only need about ten hours of sack time a week.
I’ll be there.
Thanks. Bye.
About the car, think about it.
But I gotta have an answer by tomorrow morning.
There’s a guy in Bayside who’s about ready to commit.
Okay, I’ll buy it.
Ho ho.
Henderson, believe me,
you are gonna thank me for this.
Yeah, I was one of the last to see him.
I can’t believe it.
We grew up together.
I mean, we weren’t just partners.
We were best friends.
Okay. Thanks.
Did Novaro say anything more specific
than "I’ve been reading your book"?
Yes, he did.
He said, "Thanks to you,
I think I know who murdered my wife."
Lieutenant, it had to be a break-in.
My computer and my petty cash box are missing.
Huh, a break-in.
What did Yogi Berra used to say?
Deja something.
Deja vu all over again.
Henderson, take a statement from Mrs. Conway.
Miss Conway.
Uh, I kept the petty cash box in the drawer...
I presume you’re gonna have every page fingerprinted.
Just curious.
Henderson.
Henderson?
This goes to forensics asap.
Rachel, I’m so sorry about your dad.
Thank you.
But if you think my father’s death
is going to put an end to the lawsuit,
you’ve got another thing coming.
It’s true, Jessica.
As executor of her father’s estate,
Miss Novaro can continue to pursue an ongoing legal action.
Well, it looks like this fruit punch is as close to hawaii
as I’m ever gonna get.
About Rachel.
Miss Novaro.
Was she all right?
She’s having a hard time.
[phone rings]
Hello. Artie.
Just got the lab report on the book.
Novaro’s fingerprints track up to the first paragraph
on page 247.
247. Any other developments?
Yeah. Henderson loves the car.
Oh, good. Thanks again, Artie.
-What’s this? -Door handle.
I unlocked the door, the whole thing came off in my hand.
Amazing.
I drove it eight years. That never happened.
[Rachel on tape] As legal counsel for Parents United,
I intend to show that the location of the hazardous waste dump
near the Stony Lake Elementary School
poses an immediate riskand danger
to all the childrenand adults...
[knocking on door] Yes?
Rachel, please forgive me.
I know that this is a bad time.
I’m really quite busy.
But it is important that we talk, please.
It could hold the key to your mother’s murder,
and quite possibly your father’s, as well.
I find that hard to believe,
but do go on.
Well, your father’s fingerprints
indicate that he’d reached the top of page 247
of my novel,
when something he read inspired him
to pick up the phone and call me.
You’re sure?
Well, unfortunately, no.
I was hoping that you might be able to shed some light
on this particular passage.
May I?
Yes, please.
Thank you.
"Alec smiled. Every base was covered."
"Kelly, his secretary, would order him in a sandwich"
"before leaving to run a long list of personal errands,"
"giving him more than enough time to slip out the fire exit,"
"drive home, dispose of Rebecca,"
"then slip back into his office"
"to resume the mantle of office workaholic."
Does any of that strike a chord? Anything at all?
No, nothing.
Mrs. Fletcher, I know you mean well,
and I appreciate your interest,
but I’m really running into a bit of a time problem here.
Of course. I understand.
Isn’t that the necklace that your mother wore
in the photograph?
The one that disappeared the day she was--
it’s a paste copy daddy had made
when he had to pawn the original
during some hard times.
He was too proud to admit he was down on his luck,
and he knew how much she loved it.
-Did she know? -No, he never told her.
When his business turned around,
he redeemed the original and gave me this one.
I don’t know why I keep it.
Ever since what happened to mother,
I hate everything about it.
Pretend it’s not there.
It is the contentionof Parents United...
The remote control.
It wasn’t there.
Rachel, may I use your phone, please?
Sure.
You’re late. Out joy-riding?
Miss that car already.
You didn’t tell me about the gas gauge.
What didn’t I tell you?
That it’s backwards.
It indicates "F" when it means "E."
Sometimes, okay, yes.
Every couple of years or so, it goes a little hinky
for a couple of days. No big deal.
I had to push it off the Long Island Expressway.
I caused a traffic back-up four miles long.
And then, there’s the left turn indicator.
[phone rings]
I’ll take care of it.
Gelber.
Artie, it’s Jessica.
I have an important question to ask
about Janet Novaro’s car.
Sure. I’ll pull the file. My pleasure.
Thanks.
Everybody’s car crazy.
Lieutenant, we need you in forensics.
Can’t get settled down here.
Come on.
Hey.
How you holdin’ up?
Okay. What’s all this?
It’s a surprise. I got us out of our lease.
Randy, what are you talking about?
Yeah, I sweet-talked the landlady.
It’s only gonna cost us a couple of months’ rent.
But why? Where are we going?
Where we going?
Where do you think? Your house.
Randy, are you crazy?
Look, I know how hard it was for you to leave,
and now, you can have it all again.
I don’t wanna stand in your way.
We can do barbecues on the patio.
Randy, I don’t have a house.
What do you mean?
I mean, Dave made me sign
a pre-nuptial agreement. Everything goes to Rachel.
You’re kidding?
-Oh, God. -Everything?
Oh, I couldn’t even see the forest for the muscles.
Iris, you’re not making any sense.
No, honey, but you finally are.
That’s all this ever was, wasn’t it?
And I bought it. I was just like a little girl
-on her first trip to the Big Apple. -No, that’s not true.
Don’t you know by now that...
Are you sure? Everything?
Here.
Just so it’s not a total loss, just take it all.
Iris, where the hell you goin’?
I don’t know, Randy,
but when I get there, don’t expect a postcard.
Excuse me, Detective Henderson.
They told me downstairs that the Lieutenant was out,
but he said that he would dig out Janet Novaro’s file for me.
Right.
I’m sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but he didn’t say anything to me about it.
I see. Well, I wonder, would you...
Jessica, you can forget the theories.
We’ve got Dave Novaro’s murderer.
And since Novaro murdered this man’s daughter,
we can button that case up, too.
Artie, Norman Trent was bitter, but murder?
Oh, Jessica, you can bet the house on it.
Number one, we recovered the murder weapon.
The cane.
It was in a dumpster just outside Novaro’s store.
Number two, forensics says his fingerprints were all over the joint.
Number three, he was seen coming out of his apartment
just before the murder, and number four,
unlike the Janet Novaro murder,
we’ve got us an eyewitness.
She had just gotten a handout from Novaro.
She was leaving the area when Trent showed up.
Novaro must’ve forgotten to relock the door,
because Trent let himself in.
On top of which, Trent admits to being there.
-Says he intended to kill him. -He confessed?
No, he’s giving us some cock-and-bull story about second thoughts.
And then he claims that somebody entered the store,
he panicked, so he rushed out, and that’s when he dropped the cane.
Yes, but what puzzles me is,
how could an infirm, elderly old gentleman
like Mr. Trent overcome a younger, much stronger man?
Much as he hated Mr. Novaro,
why would he alienate forever his only granddaughter?
Come on, Jessica. We’re talking passion here.
Blind rage that finally boiled over.
Still, I’d like to see the photographs of Janet Novaro’s car.
All right.
Thank you.
[phone rings]
Gelber.
Just now?
All the shocks?
Okay, Henderson, okay. I’ll pay for them.
Artie, you said that
even though all the locks had been changed,
Dave Novaro had a garage door opener
in his possession?
Yeah, it still worked.
Janet Novaro never changed the code.
Well, then his wife must’ve had a door opener, too.
Look. You can see the impression
where it was clipped to the sun visor.
-So? -Well, where is it?
Well, it should be in the inventory.
Well, it isn’t there, is it?
Huh. Well, it wasn’t submitted in evidence.
What does that prove?
Well, if I’m not mistaken,
then Norman Trent is innocent, and so was Dave Novaro.
Now, why don’t you call his daughter?
And I wonder if I could trouble you for
a classified telephone directory.
Thank you.
Like Dave Novaro,
we place ourselves in God’s hands,
asking not why such a good and decent man
was taken from us so young,
but how we can better understand
that it was God’s will.
And now, let us join together in silent prayer.
-Iris. -Go away.
Rachel, I’m really sorry about your father.
Thank you.
And now, the words that echo through all of time:
earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
May His smile shine upon us all
unto eternity.
In the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
we pray.
Amen.
-How did it go? -I think we’ll know in a few minutes,
if we follow that limousine.
You can relax, Iris.
That’s the real one, all right.
Rachel was wearing this paste copy you never knew existed.
You’re under arrest, Mrs. Novaro,
for the murder of your husband and Janet Novaro.
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you
in a court of law.
You people are out of your minds.
-I didn’t murder anyone. -Oh, but you did.
You murdered Janet Novaro out of jealousy
after learning that she and Dave had planned to reconcile.
Then you stole this necklace
to make it look like a robbery.
Beautiful, indeed.
Not to mention worth a cool 250 grand,
comes the rainy day when things between
you and Novaro don’t pan out.
No way. Dave killed her
for the insurance and the necklace,
and then asked me to hide it for him.
-Nice try, Iris. -Quite an irony.
A passage from my book,
which I have been defending as pure fiction
is what tipped off Mr. Novaro
that it was you who murdered his first wife,
and tipped me off, as well.
I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.
"Kelly, his secretary,"
"would order him in a sandwich"
"before leaving to run a long list of personal errands,"
"giving him more than enough time to slip out the fire exit"
"drive home, dispose of Rebecca..."
-And what does that have to do with me? -Everything, lady,
since you were Novaro’s secretary
at the time of his wife’s murder.
Your husband read that, and suddenly remembered
he’d given his wife’s garage opener
to his secretary to have it repaired
several weeks before her death.
He gave it to you, Iris.
And when I confirmed that Janet Novaro’s garage opener
was never located, I realized it had to be you
who used your lunch hour to pick up the opener,
slip into the house through the garage, and kill her.
There’s no way you can prove that.
I believe we can.
I tracked down the repair shop.
It was just up the street from Daffy Dave’s.
We also got the receipt that you picked up
and signed the day of the murder.
And we checked your gasoline credit card receipts.
You filled up a mile from the house
within minutes of the murder.
That’s the one thing I didn’t figure on.
Dave never stopped loving Janet.
I think that’s what ticked me off so much
that night when I stopped by the store
to tell him I didn’t want a divorce after all.
Someone was justrunning out of the store.
[Jessica] That would’ve beenNorman Trent.
According tohis statement,
he went thereto avenge his daughter
but was havingsecond thoughts.
Well, he was insuch a hurry to get out,
he left his cane.
That was Dave’smisfortune.
He stormed out ofhis office saying
he’d read your bookand it reminded him
of how he’d given me the damn garage opener to get fixed,
and that was the way I got back into the house.
And the fact is,it was all true.
It made me angry. I forgot why I was there,
because he was gonnacall the police.
That’s when I hit himwith the cane.
Dave.
I cleaned my prints off it, and threw it in the dumpster
down the street.
After all these years,
no way was I gonna go to jail.
You wanna bet?
Weird. In a way, your novel turned out to be
right on the money after all.
-In a lucky way. -Yeah. Incidentally,
if you hear of anybody that wants to buy my car, give me a jingle.
I thought you’d sold it to Detective Henderson.
I did. Unfortunately, some people are just
not cut out to own an automobile with character.
Hey, Jessica, we wanted to catch you before you left for hawaii.
And make it official that I’ve dropped the lawsuit.
-Well, thank goodness. -And Jessica,
guess who’s opening up a law practice together.
Not you two?
Well, that’s wonderful. Congratulations.
Down on the Lower East Side where people really need representation.
I thought we agreed on Midtown near my corporate accounts.
Aaron, a general practice means everybody.
Look, Aaron, Rachel, when you make up your minds,
please, send me an announcement...
to Maui.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.