All language subtitles for Murder, She Wrote S07E22 The Skinny According to Nick Cullhane.DVDRip.NonHI.en

See, this novel, it's
gonna make me hot again.

I don't have the manuscript.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Okay, pal. Freeze.

If this is the best you guys can do
for a cop, this town is in real trouble.

I can't believe this lowlife
is actually a friend of yours.

Pay me the 863, or have
a little talk with Richard.

Oh, he can talk now?

Listen, that manuscript
that I sent you...

I'm afraid I don't have it.

Here, I have a gun.

I want that book, Mrs. Fletcher.

I've got no more options.

How am I supposed to look at it?

I date a couple of
broads who work here,

and you give them the third
degree about what went on.

Sounds like you're
writing a book, not me.

Nick, calm down.

Fifteen years I've
been with this team.

Suddenly, you're checking up
on me like I'm some kind of a spy.

Nick... Come on, Gordo.

Half of Boston has heard
rumors and stuff about Oggie,

but telling tales outta school,
I mean, that's not my game.

Besides which, I mean, I'm so blocked
I have trouble typing my own initials,

and besides which, don't flatter
yourself. This is standard rich-kid stuff.

I mean, the playboy with too
much money and not enough to do.

If I were able to write again,

I sure as hell wouldn't be
writing about you, Oggie.

Even with the debutantes and the
Ferraris and the 12-meter yachts,

you're not exactly
Mr. Fascinating.

Ah, now that's not the
impression you gave the girls.

Jeez, I don't believe I'm hearing
this. I mean, company gossip?

That's what their
lives are all about.

Ah, look, to hell with this,
okay? To hell with this.

Let's just end this before one
of us says something we regret.

Sit down, Nick.

We had no intentions
of offending you.

We were just a little
curious, that's all.

Well, can we talk
about my contract?

Ah, Nick... You
can relax, fellas.

I mean, my lawyer tells me I'm
nuts, and my agent says I'm suicidal.

I mean, he was all set, you
know, to go for the jugular. I mean...

He says, after 15 years,
I am Schmesser Beer.

Nick...

But I said, "No, no, no, we're not
gonna take advantage here now,

"with sales in the
dumper like they are."

I said, you know, "We're not
gonna hold these people up

"for not one penny more
than what my last deal was."

That's very
gracious of you, Nick.

Well, I, you know... I don't need
thanks. I mean, what are friends for?

Speaking of which, though, I
have one little temporary problem.

I need... I need an advance.

My bookmaker is giving me a little
flak and I wanna throw her a bone.

No biggie, nothing big.

100 grand'll make her as
happy as if she had good sense.

Nick,

we're not renewing you.

You're what? You're not what?

It's called business, Nick.

Well, listen, wait
a minute, you...

Research tells us

there's a whole generation out there
that doesn't even know who you are.

Look, you can't...

They don't know that you
used to write detective stories.

They say that we need
a fresh new campaign.

In short, Nick, you are the reason
that Schmesser Beer sales are down.

If you'll excuse us, we
have a meeting coming up.

Perhaps you could
use your pictures.

Hey, Nick, what do you say?

Well?

Zip.

You're sure?

Hey, if I say there was no manuscript,
then there wasn't any, okay?

I covered every lousy inch of
his cabin. The files, everything.

There weren't
even any notes for it.

Nothing there but unpaid bills,
empty beer cans and dirty dishes.

Writers.

See? Maybe now we can just
forget about this book nonsense

and concentrate on getting the
yacht ready for the Newport Race.

High and outside, ball one.

Ogden.

What?

Let's suppose that we
do forget about this book,

and that such a
book really does exist.

How many yachts do you
think you'd be able to afford

after your grandfather
gets a look at it?

I keep hearing about this
great book of yours, Nick.

But I don't see it.

All I see is this overdue
tab for 150 large ones.

Vikki, if you
would just let me...

Enough already! I want the
money, Nick. Now. Today.

Yeah? The Lakers?

Plus three points.

That's the spread,
Howie. Take it or leave it.

Two large?

Done.

And I mean the
whole 100-and-a-half.

Vikki, you're not
hearing me, babe.

See, this novel, it's gonna
make me hot again, and rich.

I mean, the advance alone is
for way more than what I owe you,

and the check is on
its way from New York.

Go ahead, you don't believe
me? You don't believe me?

Go ahead, call my agent.
Call him. New York. 212-55...

Oh, wait a minute, yeah, he's
already left for the weekend.

I tell you what. 48 hours,
and you get every penny.

Twenty-four. And be here.

No problem. No problem,
and Vikki, hey, thanks a lot.

He's lying.

Probably.

So how come you
let him off the hook?

Marjorie, it's me. How's
the Big Apple treating you?

Tell me about it. Hey,
what could be new?

Teams win, teams lose. I pick
up a couple of bucks either way.

Listen, I need a favor.

Yeah, I want you to ask
around, your literary friends.

See if there's any word on a
new book by Nick Cullhane.

Yeah, the guy in the beer
commercial. Thanks, Marj.

Wait a minute. I know why you
didn't lower the hammer on him.

It's 'cause you
and Nick Cullhane...

No, Richard.
Don't start in again.

I'm sorry, all right?

I don't mean to think these
things, baby. I really don't...

Good, then knock it off.

Hi There. This
is Nick's machine.

As soon as I beep, say your
piece and I'll get back to you.

Nick, this is Jessica.

I may never forgive you for
sending me your manuscript.

I couldn't put it down until
I finished it at 4:00 a.m.

I really loved it. Every word.
The characters are wonderful,

they're exciting, full
of dimension and life.

It's... Well, it's by far the
best thing you've ever written.

Congratulations. You've
obviously cured your writer's block.

Will you call me soon
and tell me your secret?

Goodbye.

Can I kick it in?

Go ahead.

Take your pick, McGraw.

Pay me the 863, or have
a little talk with Richard.

Oh, he can talk now?

In a minute, darling.

What do you say, Harry?

Aw, come on, Vik,
you know I'm good for it.

I mean, hell, all the years I did business
with Lou, he never tried to muscle me.

That was Lou. This is me.

Okay, tell you what, I'll let you
work it off. I got a job for you.

No, forget about it.
I don't finger people.

Will you stop? I want you
to find something for me.

A manuscript.

What? Like in a book?

It's collateral for another
tab. A very big tab, Harry.

Trouble is, there's not a whole
lot to go on. All I got is this.

It's from a guy's
answering machine.

The woman on the tape, I
figure she could be his agent,

or maybe one of those
Hollywood-producer types. I'm not sure.

You're not sure?

She's the link, Harry. You find
her, we're home free. Listen.

For a lousy 863 bucks,
you want me to find a voice?

I mean, there's gotta
be 150 million women...

For sending me your manuscript.

I couldn't put it down until
I finished it at 4:00 a.m.

I really loved it. Every word.
The characters are wonderful,

they're exciting, full
of dimension and life.

You okay, Harry?

I just swallowed the wrong way.

Listen, Vikki, I'm not a magician, but I
am a pretty good P.I., as you well know.

Skip the commercial, Harry. You
wanna find her, or you wanna pay me?

Okay, okay, but I'm gonna
need some expense money.

I mean, this Jessica, or whatever
her name is, she could be anyplace.

San Francisco, or China.

Harry, Harry, you think
I don't own a television?

What're you saying?

What she's saying, stupid, is
even those private eyes on TV

know how to find out where
phone calls come from.

Oh, that? Yeah, well,
sure, I can do that but...

No rough stuff?

No rough stuff.

Good. When you find out,
you go there, and I go with you.

No. No way. I work alone.

Not for me, you don't.

Say, what about me?

You mind the store.

Vikki, I hate this.

With him?

You've gotta be kidding.

You wanna hang on to your hands,
pal, you better keep them to yourself.

Do you understand?

Everything I do
should be so easy.

Sheriff...

Floyd, you see that
guy in the porkpie hat?

Yeah.

I know him from someplace.

Boston.

Boston? How do you
know he's from Boston?

Bus came from there.

Get in the car.

We're gonna go take a look
at some "wanted" posters.

I'm coming. Coming.

Jessica! What do you say?

Nick? What are you
doing in Cabot Cove?

So, you gonna
invite me in, or what?

Well, of course I am.
Come on in. But what is it?

Is something wrong?

Wrong? No, no.

Some days are more fun than other
days, but I mean, what else is new?

Listen, that manuscript
that I sent you...

Oh, it's wonderful, Nick.

But didn't you get the
phone message I left you?

No. I haven't been spending too
much time around my house lately.

I'm really glad that you like it, really,
but... I need it back, Jessica, now, today.

Oh, dear. I'm sorry,
but I don't have it here.

Oh, please, tell me I'm
not hearing this, please.

Nick, it's...

Somebody broke into my
cabin. They trashed my computer.

They took the only other copy.

Nick, it's all right, your book,
I mean. I loaned it to a friend,

Ben Devlin, he's our newspaper
publisher, for a second opinion.

Oh, Jessica!

I love you. So, how
do I find this guy?

I'm afraid you can't, until next week. He's
in the Canadian woods on a fishing trip.

Oh, boy. I couldn't have just sat down
and wrote another Rick Sledge novel, no.

I had to... I had
to get creative.

Nick. Nick?

Nick!

Harry!

Hiya, Jessica. Long time no see.

San Francisco, McGraw?
150 million women?

Jessica Fletcher, say
hi to Vikki Palumbo.

Oh, Miss Palumbo, how
very nice to meet you.

Harry!

Oh, no. This is
strictly business.

I mean, she's a client.

We're looking... I'm looking for
a book written by Nick Cullhane.

Now, I heard that
he sent you a copy.

I want that book, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, are you in the publishing
business, Miss Palumbo?

Not exactly.

That scumbag, Nick
Cullhane, ran out on me.

Oh, then you must be his agent.

Well, Miss Palumbo is
kind of in the credit business,

and Nick owes her
some heavy bread.

Bread? Oh, yes. Yes, of
course. Gambling debts. Nick.

I should have thought
of that right away.

My goodness, women are certainly breaking
ground in new professions, Miss Palumbo.

That book of his, if it
exists, is my collateral.

Oh, so that's the trouble
he's in. Are you sure that's all?

Well, it's all I know about.

Well, as far as that book, there's
something that you should know.

This Mrs. Palumbo,
she's a bookmaker?

You got that right.

And she's gone to Maine?

Yeah, phone messages.

I found them last night
in her boyfriend's desk.

Phil, I would much
prefer that you don't tell us

how you go about these things that
you do. You're making me an accomplice.

She took a private investigator
with her. A guy named McGraw.

All right. I want you
to get up there, fast.

This morning I fired
two more secretaries

who admitted they'd been feeding
Nick Cullhane company gossip,

and God knows how many others
he's slept with, or what they told him.

I hardly even knew him.

Guys, whoa... Guys?

Wait a minute here.
First off, listen to me.

We don't know for sure if this
book even exists, and second...

I just don't wanna know.

I don't want to know how
you go about these things.

I can't afford to know.

Phil, I want you to keep in mind
that until we get our hands on it,

we have to assume the worst
about what this book might contain,

and that anybody who has read it, and
is still capable of walking and talking,

can hurt us.

Badly.

Hello?

Jessica. Everything okay?

Well, I'm not so sure.
Nick, where are you?

I'm kinda on the move.

Those people that
came to your front door,

it wasn't anybody called
Mannix or Forbes, was it?

No. Nick, for heaven's
sakes, what's going on?

I mean, if you're in some kind of
trouble, maybe you should go to the police.

We have a very responsible
Sheriff here, you know.

No, no, no. For God sakes,
don't get the cops involved.

All I gotta do is find that copy of
my manuscript, and I'm outta here.

Now, who did you
say you gave it to?

Ben Devlin. He's our
local newspaper publisher.

But he's out of
town until next week.

Next week.

If I don't get my hands on that
manuscript, there may not be a next week.

Listen, don't tell
anybody you saw me.

Better yet, you don't
even know me. Okay?

Well, I'm sorry, Nick, but it's too late. A
lady came to the house looking for you.

She's interested in your book.
Her name is Vikki Palumbo.

Terrific! It's just what I need!

Jessica, if anybody named Mannix or
Forbes contacts you, you never heard of me!

And for God sakes, don't tell
them I sent you my manuscript!

417. That's Devlin's house.

So, now what?

Now we sit and watch.

Till when? The guy isn't
coming back for a week.

Besides which, we don't know if he took the
book with him, or if he's got it hidden.

Vikki, will you knock it off?
This is what real detectives do.

Here, have a donut.

I can't believe you actually
charge people for this kind of work.

You know what I can't believe?

That a sweet guy like Lou
Palumbo could put up with you.

Lou was a schnook. He
needed people to like him.

In the bookmaking
business, that's a killer liability.

Well, that's one problem
you'll never have.

Oh, oh. There.

What there? Where're you going?

Shh! Sit still.
I'll be right back.

McGraw...

Mr. Cullhane? I
figured it was you.

Ogden sent you, right?

Ogden? No, no, no.
Listen, all I wanna...

God.

Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
My client, see, all she wants...

Okay, pal. Freeze.

Look at that, you lousy creep.

Hey, hey, put a sock in it, will
you, Vikki? I'm on the phone here.

Yeah, that right. Not
only is there a manuscript,

but at least two of the
locals have read it so far.

All right, Phil, I want you to
back off until I get up there.

Yeah, well, you better make it fast. We
need some heavy-duty damage control.

What happened, my bubbala?
What happened? What?

The big, bad man hit you?

Oh. Listen to me, sweetheart.
Do yourself a favor, will you?

I mean, unless you're
really looking to get hurt,

you let me know the minute you
see or you hear from Nick Cullhane.

Hmm? Farshteyn?

Oh, you know, I wouldn't
bother calling the cops.

I'm a retired detective,

a sergeant with a whole string
of medals and commendations.

And you, you are what you are.

You know what I mean?

Thank you.

Say, you've got a Miss
Palumbo registered here.

What is her room number?

I'm her brother.

Now, what do you think, I
punched myself in the mouth?

Jessica, if this is the best you guys can
do for a cop, this town's in real trouble.

Mrs. Fletcher, I can't believe this
lowlife is actually a friend of yours.

Oh, Harry, Sheriff, please!

Okay, okay. So, if you didn't
break in, what were you doing there?

I just happened
to be passing by.

Two miles away from your hotel?

Sheriff, was anything
stolen from Ben's house?

Well, not that you
could notice, no.

Then you really have no
reason to be holding Mr. McGraw.

Mrs. Fletcher, back when
I was with the N.Y.P.D.,

we used to have a
saying about P.I.'s.

Unfortunately, it's not something
I can repeat in mixed company,

but I think you should know, I
checked with the Boston P.D.

Turns out they've yanked his license
four times in the past three years.

Plus, he's been picked up on suspicion of
murder, breaking and entering, assault...

I know.

You know?

Yeah, Sherlock, and how
many times did it stick to the wall?

Harry!

He refuses to describe this alleged
burglar who allegedly assaulted him.

Sheriff!

Come on, will you?
It was pitch dark.

And he refuses to explain
what he's doing in Cabot Cove.

You know, I can remember a time

when even the dumbest cop
knew about client confidentiality.

Will you please stop
this? Both of you.

You know, Sheriff, I think that
Harry has a good point here.

Oh, thanks a lot.

But I can tell you this much.

It has something to
do with Nick Cullhane.

Nick Cullhane?

From the beer commercials?

Yeah, yeah. That's the
guy I saw getting off the bus.

Okay, Mrs. Fletcher, give.

What's Nick Cullhane
doing here in Cabot Cove?

I really don't think I should
say any more, Sheriff.

Oh? I suppose that's
client confidentiality, too?

Jessica, you were within your
rights, and I was within mine.

I know, but I hated not telling
Sheriff Metzger everything I know.

Trust me, he'll get over it.

He's a good man, Harry. I mean,
he was only trying to do his job.

Yeah, that makes two of us.

But I still don't understand why
Nick would automatically assume

that I was working
for Oggie Schmesser.

Harry, how much do you
know about this Mr. Schmesser?

Only what I hear, which
is, he's not all that swift.

He's sort of a playboy type,

and he's been running the
brewery since his grandfather retired,

that is, when he's
not chasing skirts.

Well, I'm not sure if this means
anything, but Nick's manuscript is about

a wealthy young playboy who
inherits his grandfather's brewery.

Yeah? Now, that's interesting.

In Nick's book, his best friend
is an unscrupulous attorney

who manipulates him into
some very unethical behavior.

Yeah, I'm getting the picture. So Nick
did a real hatchet job on Schmesser.

But that still doesn't explain
why he was afraid of me.

It may be more than
a hatchet job, Harry.

Do you recall Mr. Schmesser
being kidnapped?

Yeah, about five years
ago. It was a big deal.

The Boston papers
seemed to think so.

I was going over some back
issues this afternoon in the library.

Yeah, I think the
grandfather came up with

about three million
bucks to save junior's...

Buns.

Yeah, well, that's what the papers
said. But according to Nick's book,

young Mr. Schmesser
was never really kidnapped.

It was all a big hoax,

rigged by the young man
and his friend, the attorney.

Oh, to set up Grandpa and
keep the three million for himself.

Whoa.

In the manuscript, it's the
grandmother, but otherwise...

Hey, why not? Rich kid.
Expensive tastes. Short of cash.

But Jessica, if it actually happened that
way, that means that Oggie and his pals

are seriously worried
about this book coming out.

Yes.

You know, I had the impression that
Nick was worried about a great deal more

than simply repaying
a gambling debt.

Which, by the way, may not be
the whole story with Vikki Palumbo.

I mean, she might be just stringing me
along, trying to get her hands on that book

so she could, I don't know, maybe
extort money from Schmesser.

Come on, I'll get you a cab.

Oh, I don't know, Harry. This
all sounds very melodramatic.

You wanna talk melodramatic?

What about if Schmesser and his pal are
really worried about what's in that book,

then you and your friend, the
newspaper editor, Ben, what's his name?

Devlin.

You could both be in this as deep as
Nick just because you both read the thing.

Oh, Harry, that's
awfully far-fetched.

Besides, it's possible that
it's not about any of this.

I mean, he could be
having romantic problems,

or perhaps he's in trouble with
the law, or something like that.

Yeah, and I'm Sam Spade.

Oh, I just wish I could
give him his manuscript

and let him do
whatever he wants with it.

Listen, Jessica, is it possible that
he left it at his newspaper office?

He told me that he was taking it
with him, but yes, I think it's possible.

Yes?

I'm an attorney, Mrs. Fletcher.
My name is Gordon Forbes.

I'm sorry to disturb you
at this hour of the night,

but I need to speak to you
on a matter of great urgency.

Mrs. Fletcher, I really don't
like talking through a door.

Thank you.

I tried to call you on my car
phone on the way up from Boston,

but there was no answer.

I understand that you have a copy of a
certain manuscript by Nicholas Cullhane.

Now, on behalf of my client,

I am prepared to make you
an extremely generous offer.

Mr. Forbes, I don't have the
manuscript. Now, if you'll excuse me.

Wait. Please.

Do you know where it is?
The manuscript, I mean.

Mr. Forbes, if I call out,
my neighbors will hear,

and I happen to know that
several of them have guns.

I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to frighten you.

I'll call you in the morning.

Hey!

Nick Cullhane.

Drop it, dirtbag.

I can't wait to see Mrs.
Fletcher try to explain this one.

I told you, I don't
know whose gun it was.

Sure. Like you don't know who
slugged you because there wasn't anyone.

I figure the manuscript was
never there, or else the killer took it.

Look, if I could've returned the
script to him, Nick might still be alive.

Now, now, wait a
minute. What manuscript?

Nah, nah. Don't bet on it. I mean,
there are too many people after him,

and his book.

Now, he went to the
newspaper office looking for it.

Now, somebody followed him.

Or someone got
there first. Oh, Harry!

Excuse me, could we get
back to this manuscript?

Remember when I told
you you might be on the spot

just because you read the thing?

Now do you believe me?

Harry, we don't know
that's why Nick was killed.

Wrong. You don't know.

Now, hold it. I want
to hear about this...

The character in the book, the one
who helped him rig his own kidnapping.

Kidnapping? What kidnapping?

Now if we can match him up with
the real guy in Schmesser's life,

then we could solve the...

All right, now
hold it! That's it!

You are both gonna tell me
whose manuscript, what kidnapping,

who's Schmesser, and what in
the hell this magilla's all about.

Okay, Sheriff. Okay, pal.

Ogden, I told you it wasn't necessary
for you to drive all the way up here.

Oh, no?

I thought I could count
on you. And you, Phil.

We've been covering as
many bases as we can.

I've been on the phone since sunup,
trying to keep us out of the press.

Yeah? Well, you
wouldn't know it.

All I've heard on the news is Nick
Cullhane and Schmesser Brewing.

It's like it's part of his name.

Hey, kid, get a grip, huh?

We're giving it our best shot.

Well, that's not good enough.

I should have never
listened to either one of you.

I mean, running up and down the
coast chasing after this manuscript

without knowing what's in it, and
then, you don't even get your hands on it.

Ogden, you haven't
got all the facts.

Listen, if Grandfather was going
to be unhappy about a stupid book,

how do you think he likes his favorite
TV spokesman getting murdered?

And the publicity
it's generating?

He was on the phone to me
practically all the way up here.

All right, that's it. I'll see
you around sometime.

No, wait.

Forget it. Hey, I
don't need this.

Come on. Phil, come on.

Listen, the guy
needs a wet nurse.

I've been cleaning up after him
for long enough. Forget about it.

Now see what you've done?

Phil, please. I'm sorry.

Like you mean it!

Phil... Phil?

I apologize.

I'll make it worth your while.

All right.

All right, now, the
first order of business

is to find the book before
anybody else reads it,

and before the press
gets their hands on it.

150,000 down the pipes.

Yeah, along with the
sports car you promised me.

Listen, there was never any
guarantee that book was worth 10 cents.

I mean, my friend in New York
said nobody'd ever heard of it.

And the fact that that Fletcher
woman said she liked it,

well, maybe she was
just being kind to Nick.

Anyway, who would've figured
McGraw was smart enough

to try and go into
business for himself?

I should've kept a
closer eye on him.

Well, how close did it get?

Me and McGraw? Richard,
you're starting to irritate me again.

Vikki, I'm sorry. I
don't mean to. Really.

Yeah. Hey, let's get outta
here. Go. Get yourself packed.

Let's get back to civilization.

Listen, Vikki, now
don't blow your top.

What?

This guy Mannix. You know, the one
that you said came to see you last night...

Don't.

Vikki, I gotta. I mean,
you and him, you didn't...

That's it, Richard. That's all! I
have had it with your jealousy.

Vikki, I'm just...

I have had it with you!
When we get back to Boston,

you'll find yourself
another job and another life!

Now, get out!

Keep going. You're
going in the right direction.

Sit down. All right. Now...

Here, put these on him.
Up you go. Up you go.

And I'm gonna say
this just one time.

We want the manuscript, now.

What makes you
think I've got it?

You haven't been
paying attention.

Hey! I haven't got it.

Phil, please.

You got a friend here.

Now, Richard, don't be stupid.

And don't try and
protect Mrs. Palumbo.

We know you either
gave her the manuscript

or you kept it for yourself
after you killed Nick Cullhane.

Killed? Me? You guys
are out of your minds.

Okay, wait a
minute, wait a minute.

Suppose I can get my
hands on this manuscript...

I'm not saying that I
can, but suppose...

Would you guys be willing
to come up with 200 grand?

Huh?

Did I say 200? $100,000.
What do you say, guys?

Now don't scream out, will you? I get
very angry when I hear people scream.

Nitrate tests. McGraw couldn't
have fired the murder weapon.

I know, you were
already sure he didn't do it.

I didn't say a word.

Anyway, we've got Mrs. Palumbo.

Collared her just as she
was about to leave town.

Are you saying that
she killed Nick Cullhane?

No, not directly. The
way it played was,

she incited her boyfriend
by playing on his jealousy.

Really?

Yeah, it took some
reading between the lines,

but I finally got her to admit that she
and Nick Cullhane had been an item.

The rest was easy. She let
Richard, the boyfriend, in on it.

He automatically assumed that
Nick was the one who made it happen

and went after him.

Then Vikki's motive for revenge

was Nick's not having
paid his gambling debts?

Exactly.

Put out an A.P.B. on Richard
about a half an hour ago.

State cops should be picking
him up even as we speak.

I'll tell you, Mrs. Fletcher, I
wish they were all this easy.

I don't know, Sheriff. I have a
feeling that there may be more to it.

Ma'am, I've gotta tell you,
this time you are dead wrong.

And I'll tell you
something else.

I'd still bet the ranch your friend
McGraw is in this thing up to his nostrils.

I don't understand.

This manuscript that
everybody's so hysterical about.

Now, the way I figure it is, he
grabbed it for himself. That's grand theft,

and which I would give
my left arm to nab him for.

Now, just a minute, Sheriff.

I'll admit that Harry has
a few unfortunate habits,

but like yourself, he's a
decent, hardworking man.

And I'm positive that his
involvement with this case is...

Well, it's purely professional.

For your sake, Mrs.
Fletcher, I hope you're right.

That'll be 43 cents
postage due, Mrs. Fletcher.

All right.

Thank you.

Looks like Mr. Devlin sent that from
Canada, didn't realize about the new rates.

Yes, he's been away fishing.

Be seeing you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank you, Mr. Finnerty.

Give it to me, Mrs. Fletcher.

Give you what?

Nick Cullhane's manuscript.

Oh, this?

Oh, this is just a seed catalog.

Mr. Forbes, will you
please leave my house?

I'll be glad to, just as soon as
you give me the seed catalog.

Now, Mrs. Fletcher,

I don't have time for this,

and neither do you.

What is it about this book that
you find so interesting, Mr. Forbes?

After all, it's just
fiction, isn't it?

Or is it?

"I'm telling you,
Osborn, it can't miss.

"Your grandma's going to
do anything we tell her to do,

"anything to get you
back in one piece."

Such as paying the
$3 million ransom

that you and young Mr. Schmesser
collected from his grandfather?

Isn't that correct, Mr. Forbes?

Mrs. Fletcher...

I've got no more options.

Yeah, you do.

You can start walking
back in there, very carefully.

Oh, Harry, thank you.

You know, Jessica, you
ought to keep your door locked.

Any kind of riffraff can
just waltz right in here.

Now, listen, pal.
It was bad enough

that you killed an okay guy
like Nick and slugged me,

but when you start even thinking
about hurting Mrs. Fletcher here,

you're way off the chart.

You know, Harry, I'm not at all sure
that it was Mr. Forbes who murdered Nick.

Aw, come on, Jessica.

Let me ask you a
question, Mr. Forbes.

Did you search through
Nick Cullhane's cabin?

No. That was handled
by Phil Mannix.

Phil. Phil Mannix.

Jessica, what is it?

Mr. Forbes, just how badly do
you want to get to the bottom of this?

I never should have
been so trusting.

But I never dreamed that Gordo
would pull something like this.

Hey, who could read minds?

Look, we'll talk to your
grandfather. All right?

We'll lay it all out for him.

Nick's murder, plus whatever
else happens to be in the book.

It was all Forbes' doing, right?

We'll just make the old man
understand that we are clean.

Gordo! What do you
know? What do you say?

You miserable, lying
piece of garbage.

What? What?

I've seen the manuscript.

It's all in there, everything
that you told Nick Cullhane.

He told him?

Don't listen to him, kid.

Oggie,

did you ever tell Nick or anyone
else, any of the secretaries, anybody,

about our little kidnap scheme?

What? Are you crazy?

That's why you killed him, isn't
it? So that he couldn't tell anybody

that he heard all
about it from you!

Phil sold you that number,

didn't he?

Yeah, well, half of
it's right, anyway.

The half about why
Nick was murdered.

I don't understand.

Oggie, he's lying.

No, you button it.

Now, Oggie,

listen to me.

Only the three of us knew
about this, right? You, me, Phil.

You didn't tell anyone.
I didn't tell anyone.

All right, forget it!

Now, why would I pull
a no-brainer like that?

He's the one
nursing the grudges.

You know, complaining behind your back
about having to save you from yourself,

about always having to take
your grandfather's heat for you...

Okay, Gordon,
please, the truth now.

Where were you on the night
that Nick Cullhane was murdered?

What're you asking him that for?
He's only gonna give you a lot of bull.

Phil, let him answer.

I was with Vikki Palumbo.

Yeah, that's a lie.

Ask her.

I made a deal with her.

If she got to the manuscript first,
she was gonna sell it back to us.

But Oggie, what
neither of us realized was

that Phil couldn't afford
to have that happen

because Phil knew
what was on every page!

And if we were ever to read the
manuscript, then we would know.

Yes.

That Phil was Nick's source.

I'm sorry, fellas.

Now, if I'd gotten to the manuscript first,
we'd all be going back to Boston alive.

Go figure.

Freeze!

Move and you're a dead man.

You're under arrest for
the murder of Nick Cullhane.

Floyd, cuff him and
read him his rights.

You have the right
to remain silent.

If you give up the
right to remain silent,

anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.

See? You did okay.

I still don't believe
you talked me into this.

Okay, but what I don't get
is, what was in it for you?

I mean, spilling the truth about
the fake kidnapping to Nick Cullhane.

Yeah, with Nick in hock to
Vikki up past his eyeballs,

he couldn't have
offered you money.

It's possible that Mr. Mannix
may have another motive.

I mean, according
to Nick's book,

your fictional counterpart tended to have a
rather loose tongue when he was drinking,

plus, he felt rather
unappreciated by his employers.

You got that right, lady.

See, I was hired by old man
Schmesser to nursemaid Ogden,

but Grandpa didn't come
around much anymore.

And Gordon Forbes, well, he
was busy building his little empire

which wasn't
about to include me.

They conveniently forgot the
whole Mickey Mouse kidnap gag

would have fallen
apart if it wasn't for me.

And when they collected the three
million, my end of it was pennies.

Anyway, Nick and I, we used
to go pub-crawling sometimes.

And one night, I guess it
all just boiled up inside me

and I let the sauce get the
better of my common sense.

Nick swore to me he'd never
use the stuff that I told him.

Then about two weeks
ago, I run into Vikki Palumbo.

She's all bent out of shape
because Nick's been stalling her.

She says he promised to pay her
out of the money that he's getting

from a book that he wrote.

And suddenly you're frightened.

Yeah, well, I started
doing some digging.

I found out that Nick was dating
some of the women at the brewery.

You know, just
picking their brains

to find out what was
going on behind the scenes.

Then I was sure
there was a book.

And suddenly you realized

that if it contained all the
information that you'd given to Nick,

Gordon Forbes and young
Mr. Schmesser would know

that it couldn't have
come from anyone but you.

Right.

Even if the law
didn't come after you,

it would've meant the end of your
cushy life on Schmesser's payroll.

You try living on
a cop's pension.

So, you broke into Nick's
cabin and found the manuscript.

Ma'am, I took what I thought
was the only one, and I burned it.

Along with the other thing,
what do you call that thing?

What, the floppy disk?

And then I destroyed
the computer.

But that left Nick. He
was a major loose end.

It's not here, Nick.

Phil! I was just trying to find
it so I could turn it over to you.

Sure you were. You weasel.

You just couldn't keep what I told
you to yourself, now, could you?

Don't... No!

See? What did I tell you?

I'm sorry I couldn't cooperate
more with you, Sheriff,

but I was trying to
protect Harry and Nick.

I understand, Mrs. Fletcher,

but tell me something,
how did you figure it out?

Whoever was desperate enough
to kill Nick, and who tried to kill me,

certainly knew exactly
what was in that book.

Yeah, and whoever it was had to
be the guy who broke into Nick's place

before Vikki Palumbo
and Richie ever got there.

Right, Jessica?

Right, Harry.

And that, as they
say, is all she wrote.