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I was wondering...
Coffee? Yes.
What's the plat de jour?
Light of the day.
Would you pass the salt?
Thank you.
That's what I meant, the sugar.
You want the plat du jour? Uh, no, no, not today.
How's the crumb cake?
Fine.
I'll have the crumb cake.
Can I hotten up your coffee? Oh, no, thanks.
Mmm.
Is that delicious?
Mmm, mmm.
That's the best crumb cake I've ever tasted.
Mmm. I bet they bake it here. You think they bake it here?
I don't know. I bet they do. I bet they do. It just tastes so fresh.
Here, have a taste.
Oh, no, thank you. No, no, no, go on. Here's a fresh fork.
Take it from this end. I didn't touch it.
Just take a taste.
It's really good.
Right,
thank you.
Yeah, see?
Here. Let me give you half. No, no, no. There you go.
There's your pork.
Thank you.
I'm, uh... I'm new in town.
Oh. I've, uh, just come from Minneapolis.
Rent a small house.
Eat, uh, most of my meals alone.
I don't even know you.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because you're new in town.
Just come here from Minneapolis.
Rent a small house.
Eat monthly meals a month.
Something else?
No, no, that's fine, that's fine. Great crumb cake. Yeah. You bake it here? We
don't even slice it here.
Now, have a good day. What?
You too.
Goodbye.
Hi, Kat.
Good morning.
Here's Billy Newman's stuff from New Mexico.
Ah. Right now you have a meeting for the Sunday magazine cover, and at 11 .30
you're supposed to do that food section stuff. Oh, this is wonderful copy.
Really good stuff.
People from the East warming to New Mexico for the Charamoya Arts Festival.
Billy on the phone for me, will you?
Hi, Vince. Good morning, Irene.
What do you got? The art for the Sunday cover. Mm, good.
Hey, you know, we're still having problems printing it.
What's that paper?
Color just runs all over that rough stuff they've been giving you. Well,
can I do? That's what they give me. What can you do?
Make a fuss.
Kick and scream.
They want a beautiful magazine section, and they stick you with cheap paper that
won't hold a color photo.
They won't give you anything without a fight around here.
Do what you can, huh? Okay.
No luck with Billy Newman, Irene.
Did you try the motel? Yeah, I tried the motel. I left a message.
Well, don't worry about it, so get back to it.
Oh, he's really caught it.
The artists up from Taos.
Students from Cherimoya College acting as guides.
The sounds of chamber music over the desert.
It smells hot and sunny in Pueblo and New Mexico.
You can almost feel the heat.
It's hot in here.
The air conditioning on a blink again?
Yeah, for about an hour. Why doesn't somebody open a window?
Because when they put the air conditioning in, they nail the window
You know what happened to me this morning? What?
I met a woman.
I didn't actually meet her. I followed her into a coffee shop.
We sat next to each other on two stools at the counter.
And all the time we were sitting there, I felt her knee pressing against mine.
When she got up to leave, her knee was still pressing mine.
It was the iron pole that holds the counter up.
I think I got a ridge in my kneecap.
Maybe it's better you didn't meet her.
Why? Because what would happen?
You'd ask her out.
She'd get to know you, you'd get to know her, you'd get to like her, and she'd
dump you.
See that?
Yeah. Who?
Billy who?
You sound like a girl.
Oh, I see. You work on the other side. Why'd you call me?
Who?
Herbert Linton.
Yeah, I heard of him. He's a writer. He writes books.
Plays, that's right, plays.
Pulitzer Prize, what about it?
Murdered?
Hold it.
Rossi!
What'd you say your name was, kid?
Billy Newman.
My editor, Irene Mott, sent me out here to cover the Cherimoya Arts Festival.
Yeah, right.
They discovered Linton's body late last night at 10, 10 .38 exactly.
He was shot in the bathtub.
I mean in the chest, found in the bathtub.
Yeah, they've arrested his lover, named Victor Gary, a painter, age 37, a dress.
That's fine, kid. Good work.
What's the weather? Get back. You go to New Mexico. Herbert Linton's been
murdered. Linton? I thought he was dead.
Well, you're right.
Now, look, look, I don't want an official weather report. I just want to
how my reporter should dress when he goes down there.
In the 80s?
Good work.
Thanks for calling.
What are you waiting for? Get on a plane.
You think I can pick up and leave town just like that? I have Esther at home.
So call her and tell her you're leaving. She doesn't answer the phone too well.
She's my dog.
Listen, Billy, it's a terrific story.
I'm sure the city desk is tickled that you're right there on it.
What?
Come on, you're not serious.
Why would he send a reporter? What does he think you are, kidney beans?
Billy, don't worry about it. It's just absurd to send another reporter down to
Cherimoya when you're right there.
You just sit tight and let me handle it.
Goodbye.
Kathy, get me this Lou Grant person, will you?
Sir,
he does.
Lou Grant?
Uh, this is Irene Mott. We haven't met, but I met her today, and I'm calling
about Billy Newman, who is in... Yeah, I already talked to her. She did a nice
job. You can tell her to come home. Oh, well, that's the point.
Billy's right there on the scene, and she can cover the story.
No, no, she can't cover the story. I'm sending a reporter down.
A reporter? What do you think Billy is, kidney beans?
What's that mean?
I don't know what it means. My father used to say it to me. That's an odd
expression. Well, I never questioned it. Why should you?
Anyway, the point is, Billy is in... The point is, we do breaking stories on
this side.
I know what to do on that side. I'm well aware of what to do there.
Then we have no problem.
You don't horn in on my stories, and I promise I won't interfere with your
coverage of how Ann Sheridan does her hair.
Ann Sheridan?
I don't... care what you write about as long as it's not what we write about.
Now, I have a murder story to cover, and I'm sending a reporter to do it. So you
can tell your girl to come on home.
Oh, look, to begin with, she's not my girl. She's a reporter, as much a
as anyone on your side.
Some other time, okay?
I've got a paper to put out. Oh, really?
And what do you think we do here?
I have no idea.
I've never been in a hen house.
You have some pretty good people over there.
I'm trying to run a city room here. I don't want other people running in on
territory.
Oh, come on, Irene. It's not worth getting angry about.
You're right.
You're right.
Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nueve, diez.
Rice pudding, pumpkin pie, and chocolate cheesecake.
Nothing. Good choice.
I'll have coffee.
You know that
table? Yeah.
You know that one over there at that table?
In the booth in the corner?
You know one of those three people? You know them?
Yeah, they work on a trip.
No kidding.
Me too.
You work at the draft?
Me too.
Listen, I'll have my coffee over there at that
table. I know that one.
You want to pay your check now?
Oh, sure, sure. How much is it?
It's roast beef and beer, $2 .25.
Okay, okay, okay.
There you go. Keep the change. And coffee, 30 cents.
Oh, yeah.
There you go. The rest is for you.
And 6 % for the governor.
How much is the check? Just a minute. Just a minute.
You just blew your tip.
Are you Joe Rossi? Yeah.
I didn't know how I was going to recognize you, but it's interesting how
picked you up.
Well, from the typewriter, of course.
It's not my typewriter. It's my toilet kit.
Where can I get a car? Oh, I've got a car. I'll drive you to Jeremiah.
Who are you?
I'm Billy Newman.
Oh. I'm from the Trib. I'm working on the Linton story.
Where's a good place to stay in Cherimoya?
Well, I'm staying at the Cherimoya Inn, which is right near the college.
It's just fine. It's, uh, it's very clean.
How's the food? Any decent restaurants?
I guess so. Actually, I haven't had much time for big dinners lately. You know,
I'm covering the Linton murder. I heard you the first time.
Listen, Rossi, I know you've been sent to do the breaking story, but I got my
new... I got my new car.
This way you won't have to turn it in. My car?
What'll I use?
What do you need a car for? You're taking that plane right there.
No. No, I'm not. I'm still on assignment. I'm covering the arts
Look, the point is, I can't rent a car. I lost my license someplace.
Where?
I knew where. It wouldn't be lost, would it?
Well, look, I'll drive, and while we're driving, I can brief you. Is there
anything to do there at night? Hay rides, illegal fishing, sing -alongs?
Listen, I'm not the welcome wagon.
All right, all right. Where's the car?
He moved here seven years ago after his last flop.
He said he was through with New York and the theater and he was going to write
books.
Oh, he's written a few articles since he got here, mostly about Indians.
They're about the effect of Indian mysticism on his psyche.
What's your name again?
Billy Newman.
Billy. Can't feature a reporter named Billy.
How about a president named Jimmy?
You know, it's really Billy Joe.
But I knocked off the last part to make it sound more professional.
It didn't work.
He admired the Indians, but he said that they made him feel even more alone
because they had a tribe to belong to while he... Do you mind if I play the
radio?
Am I boring you? Not at all. I'm not listening.
You know, you don't have to use any of this. I just thought that we could...
Look, this is my story. I thought we could work together. I don't work that
See if you can find something without bandos.
Why does it have to be Hawaii?
Aren't there beaches near Stanford?
Well, if all... If your friends are going to Hawaii, they probably have
parents than you do. I'm not made of money, you know.
I don't care if it's a cliche. It's true.
Most cliches are true. That's why they're cliches. I'll come back.
Listen, listen, honey. I have a meeting. I'll call you when I get back home.
Yeah. Yeah. Bye -bye.
How do you do it, Irene?
How do you handle your daughters?
I don't handle them, Charlie. We made a deal.
They promised to grow up, and I promised to let them. So far, it's worked out
fine.
Wish I could say as much for my job.
Problem? It's about the Linton murder. I have a reporter in New Mexico, Billy
Newman. Yeah, I know about that. Lou Grant sent Joe Rossi for the breaking
story. Right, right. And that's fine.
Except Joe Rossi just told Billy Newman to go home.
He did?
Yes. And she's been there for two weeks now, Charlie. She's familiar with the
terrain. She was there when it happened. It doesn't make any sense at all to
send her home now.
Well, you've got a point there.
Okay. Now, Rossi can do his breaking story and Billy can do the background.
Makes sense. Have you talked to Lou Grant about it?
Only on the phone and he's not buying it.
On the phone?
Wait a minute.
You mean you haven't met him?
No.
You should meet him.
Why? Why?
Because you love each other. That's why. Lou Grant's an old friend of mine. Hey,
Lou. Lou, listen. I'm talking to Irene Mott, editor of the Today section.
Wait. Wait a minute.
Lou, she's here with me now. And I think it would be a good idea if you both met
each other.
Simmer down, Lou.
Please, I really think that you should come on over and resolve this right now.
Just take a minute and... Right.
He's dying to meet you.
Right.
Look, I just don't have time to fool around with you.
Oh, my God.
Hello, Grant. I'd like you to meet Irene Mott.
Irene.
That's your name, Irene.
I have a cousin named Irene.
Everyone calls her Irene.
Oh, well, everyone calls me Irene.
Yeah, we met.
We know each other, Renie and me.
We met before.
I didn't know that.
Who would have thought that you worked here?
I mean, I found out this afternoon at McKenna's, but I didn't know you were
Renie Mott.
You were in the women's section.
We don't call it that anymore, Mr. Grant.
Lou, Lou, Lou. Call me Lou.
Oh, well, I will if you call me Irene.
I mean, first we meet at a coffee shop, then again we meet at McKenna's, and
here we are in what's -his -name's office.
I can't tell you how happy I am to see you again. Oh.
Hey, why don't you tell them what's on your mind, Irene?
Oh, right, good idea. Why don't we sit down?
Now, I have a reporter in New Mexico. Oh, sure, sure. I know, I know, I know.
She called me about the Linton murder. Damn good work. Oh, well, glad to feel
that way. Now, I know you sent a reporter in, Mr. Moyer. Yeah, yeah,
Rossi. He'll do the breaking story. Right. And Billy's going to stay and do
background story.
Now, Lou, Rossi won't stand for it. Yeah, maybe he will, Lou. Let me put it
way. I won't let Rossi stand for it. Now, you're being unreasonable.
It's absurd not to let her stay.
She's coming back. She is staying. We'll see about that.
We certainly will.
Give me Rossi, wherever he is.
What's the matter with you? What's the matter with me?
Rough taste in women. That's what's the matter with me.
Lou, she's really... Why do they have to come horning in on our side?
Do I go over there asking if I can write articles on food specials or movie
reviews or home decorating, huh?
Oh, Irene Mott has probably done more for this paper than anyone else on it.
When I first came here, the women's section was just that.
But Irene has really turned things around. It's the most vital section of
paper. And the proof of it is that nobody calls it the women's section
Hello?
Rossi? Listen, is that girl from the women's section still hanging around?
You tell her to get out of there. You're covering that story alone.
Billy?
You're staying in Terramoya.
Let Rossi do the breaking story, the sidebar, the second follow -up, the
whatever. You do the background.
I want to know all about Herbert Linden. What was he doing in New Mexico? What
was he writing?
Who were the people around him?
Background, Billy. Send me background.
Crumb cake.
I beg your pardon?
He liked the crummy crumb cake.
All right, folks.
May I have your attention, please?
Let me run this down for you. Herbert Linton.
L -I -N -T -E -N, was last seen alive at the Aurora restaurant just seven miles
out of Cherimoya. He's in the company of one Victor Gary, G -A -R -I -E,
age 37, a painter, a residence in Santa Fe.
Linton had consumed a large quantity of alcohol.
In what form, Sheriff?
Vodka martinis.
How many?
The lab hasn't determined that yet.
They're counting the olives in his stomach.
The two men argued quite loudly using a good deal of profanity.
And Gary got up from the table, leaving his dinner unfinished.
Linton remained alone.
He then left the restaurant at approximately 9 .12.
9 .12, approximately.
Right.
He took a cab home, arriving there at approximately 9 .27.
Approximately.
The body was found at 10 .30 that night by a student, one Cecile Tormsby,
T -O -R -M -S -B -Y, who, getting no response from a knock at the door and
seeing that the rear window had been broken, telephoned the sheriff's office.
Linton's body was found in the bathroom.
Was he dressed?
Fully dressed.
Hey, get that cat out of here.
The cat first stops me up.
Is that all cats or just gray tabbies?
He was dead from a gunshot wound from a .22 caliber weapon.
The bullet entered the chest, exited out his back, and lodged in the wall
approximately about three inches above the bathtub.
What about the gun? Did you find it? Yes, we did. We found it outside the
bathroom door.
Was it Linton's gun?
No. No, it was registered in 1965 to Victor Gary.
Sheriff, you know that Linton and Gary were lovers.
Well, everybody knew that.
What are you doing here? I'm doing background for the Today Fiction. I
you went back.
There are no more questions, folks.
Wraps it up.
Well, wait a minute.
I heard that Gary hired Quentin Morgan to defend him.
You'd say so, Mr. Rossi. Well, that's pretty big stuff. Quentin Morgan coming
all the way from San Francisco.
You'd say so, Mr. Rossi. Sounds like Gary feels he needs a really heavyweight
lawyer to defend him.
I don't know.
Is that how it sounds?
Would you mind putting that down, miss? Oh, I'm sorry.
I wasn't thinking.
Just don't touch anything, okay?
You bet.
Hi, sweetie.
Oh,
okay if I pet the cat?
Listen, would you mind reading the title of the book on the night table?
You can just read it from where you are.
Aspects of Depression.
Want to know who wrote it?
No. Good.
I can't pronounce it.
Hey, look.
Oh, come on in. Come on in.
Baby, have a sandwich. Sit down. Come on. Thank you.
What's going on?
Once a month we all get together and we have sandwiches, shoot the breeze.
Have a sandwich, shoot the breeze.
Anybody want this roast beef sandwich?
No, it came on written bread.
See,
it's kind of an informal way of catching up on what we've all been doing.
Now, Irene here.
It appears that there's some unnecessary infighting going on inside the paper.
Irene, why don't you take the floor? Okay, thanks, Charlie. I think there may
some people here who don't quite know what we do over in the Today section.
Yeah, I know all that.
I'm not just talking to you, Mr. Grant.
Now,
at Today, we do travel, book review, Sunday magazine, food, entertainment.
Could you pass the mustard, please?
I'm talking to you, Mr. Grant.
We try to get new attitudes on old subjects. So we move our desks around.
travel people into book review, and we put theater people into TV.
And that way, everybody gets into everybody else's field.
And into everybody's hair.
You know, I remember what I used to work on in this paper.
All those things you were talking about, they used to go to what we call the
women's section.
Well, it isn't called that anymore.
It's called today.
I wonder if you could tell me, You know that section where they talk about
football and about baseball and hockey and those things?
Sports.
That's it.
Yeah, yeah. I wonder if you could tell me what that section is called today.
sports section.
Oh, that's reassuring.
I thought maybe they called it something else like tomorrow or next Tuesday.
Okay, Lou, I think you made your point.
Now let Irene make hers.
Okay, there was a time. There was indeed a time when the editor of the women's
section was the publisher's wife.
And she wore a big hat and white gloves, and she thought of a job as a hobby.
Well, today, that woman is as obsolete as a city editor who chomps on a cigar,
talks out of the side of his mouth, and has a zipper that's never quite closed.
Look, we've got all kinds of qualified people on this newspaper who can handle
any kind of assignment.
I've got people who can write for you. You've got people who can write for me.
Thank you. Thank you. But I really don't have a burning ambition to write an
article on how to care for my rose garden. Neither do I. I'm allergic to
But if I had to write it, I could.
No, that's not arguing.
We're not arguing.
I am.
You see, I think one of the problems is that physically we're in two sections of
the building.
The new side and the today side.
And that corridor is a long bridge in between, and people are afraid to cross
the bridge.
Right. I agree. I agree. But we all work for the same newspaper.
So does the guy who takes classified ads, but he doesn't want to cover a
Oh, come on.
Why shouldn't a writer from the city side do a Today story, huh?
I'd like to see you cross over.
Okay. Okay.
Sure I will.
When I want to write a story about roses.
I don't believe it. It was pretty informal.
We'd meet here or over at Herb's house and sometimes at this cafe near the
plaza. We'd generally work on a scene, then read it with the rest of the class
and analyze it. Uh -huh.
Oh, does anybody want some gum?
No. No, thanks.
Well, that's good. I don't have any.
Does anybody want some lint?
No.
What was he like?
Hard to know.
Not the kind of popular teacher that packs him in for the big lectures.
But then you found out that he cared as much about his writing students as he
cared about his own work. If he thought you had something to offer, he made you
feel like you could do more than you ever realized you could.
He made you be better. What was he like the last couple of months?
I mean, emotionally.
Well, he was having a hard time.
What do you mean? They weren't doing his plays.
Herb always said, a play doesn't live until it's performed.
And he just kept writing plays that nobody wanted to do.
He called them his dead plays.
You know, the awful thing about it was that he thought that they were better
than other plays he'd written that were smash hits, that won awards. What did
you think?
Well, the new ones were... Well, they didn't seem
to have any life.
How about Towards the End, The Last Week?
Did he seem more nervous or anxious?
No.
Just the opposite.
How do you mean, opposite?
Well, the last week, the last few times we met, he seemed very calm.
Tranquil. He just seemed so much better.
So much more at peace with himself.
It was nice.
He was happy.
Mr. Gary, I'm Joe Rossi. I want to thank you for letting me see you.
You're seeing me only because I want to set the record straight.
I don't like the way the newspapers have been handling this whole thing.
Yes, I know what the newspapers have been saying.
Sit down.
So what do you want to tell me? I did not kill Herb. You had a big fight.
Everybody heard it. Next thing, Linton's dead.
God, I still can't believe it. You were lovers?
We were friends. Best friends.
Not lovers?
No.
Not for the last year.
Maybe 18 months.
What happened between you?
Herb was always fighting it.
Never could accept it in himself.
So he had dates with women.
I didn't care. I expected his hang -ups.
You don't have that hang -up?
No.
How come you met him that night?
I just sold some of my paintings.
My gallery in New York had contacted me that morning and Herb and I were going
to go celebrate after dinner at a restaurant.
When I got there, he was in a rotten mood.
Drunk? No.
Not exactly, but he'd had enough drinks to make him happy.
We got to the table.
You were at the table?
He began to argue. About what?
I don't know what. Whatever I said picked him off. Whatever I didn't say
him off. I couldn't make any sense of it. I couldn't figure out what was
him. So both of you began arguing. No, no.
No, I know better than that.
No dealing with him when he's in that kind of a mood.
He was just insulting me. Trying to.
Said I was insensitive.
Stupid. Said I didn't have any intuition.
And he began to attack my recent work.
Said it was unimportant, uninspired, ugly, I don't know.
Okay, so you're in the restaurant.
He's goading you. Then what happened?
Then it dawned on me.
He was trying to get rid of me.
You see, Herbert always said he never had the courage to leave anybody.
He had to make them leave him.
He wanted me to leave him.
So I did.
I said, All right, Herb.
If you want me out, I'm out.
It was your gun at the house.
I heard it happened to be there.
I gave it to him for protection. He was afraid.
Afraid of what?
I don't know. Problems.
He didn't have anything to be afraid of.
Well, apparently he did.
He's dead.
Did you read the story of the Rossi pop in New Mexico?
Yeah. What'd you think?
I thought it was okay.
What's the problem?
That's the problem. It was just okay.
I send Rossi out on a story like this, I expect a hell of a lot more than okay.
What's the point, Lou?
The point is that I think we have one too many people down there covering this
story.
Remember, Charlie, when we worked in Detroit, the doctor that murdered his
mistress? Yep.
Okay. Everybody wanted to cover that story.
We had a wishy -washy city editor that had a couple of reporters working on it.
Get different angles, you know?
Yeah. Okay. Now, we were so busy sidestepping each other, trying not to
duplicate, that nobody noticed when the doctor confessed to a writer from
another paper.
You think that's what's happening there? I think this is not Rossi's best
writing. I think that girl has something to do with it. You think she's
beguiling him with her charms?
I know he's not beguiling her with his. He doesn't have any.
Lou, I think you're making too much of this. If I know Rossi...
He is trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.
What? What is it? What? What?
I didn't come in here to climb into the shack with you. Then get out.
How'd you get in here?
I lost the key to my room. So I, uh, I asked for the key to yours.
Gives you a nice feeling of security.
I had to talk to someone.
Oh, I know what you mean. I always feel like a little chat myself at, uh, 20
after four in the morning.
I just, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep.
Well, if you couldn't sleep, I'm certainly glad you woke me up. I mean,
thing I really don't want to do is be sleeping when you're having a hard time.
Something's bugging me about the Linton murder.
What?
I'm not so sure it's murder.
You want some gum?
Gum? At 4 .20 in the morning?
Why don't you think so?
Gut feeling.
Uh -huh.
I think I know who killed him.
He did.
Himself.
Gut feeling?
Uh -uh. My gut feeling's always wrong.
You know what book he was reading at the end?
Aspects of Depression.
Oh, man. Oh, that sure is a great reason for suspecting suicide.
If everybody who reads Aspects of Depression kills himself... There'd be
four people who would be dead.
It wasn't one of your big bestsellers.
Did you notice what was on his desk?
What? Large envelopes. You know the kind that manuscripts come in?
Plays? We turned to him from New York producers.
He hadn't opened them.
He hadn't even bothered to open them.
Rejections. Can you imagine a man like Herbert Linton getting rejections?
Okay, okay, okay. Let's say it is suicide.
There's one problem. The house was broken into. Somebody broke the glass
in the back door and came into the house. Who? Who?
Victor Gary. Why?
Why not? He was angry enough.
Hell hath no fury like a... and all that.
That doesn't make him a murderer.
No, it doesn't. I want to find out more about Ling. He was teaching a
playwriting seminar around here. I want to talk to some of his students. I
already did. They told me something really interesting. Very interesting.
I wish you wouldn't crack your gum like that. It gives me a headache.
Last week, right before he died... They said that he was suddenly very calm,
quiet, tranquil, as if he was more peaceful than he had been for months.
And so he'd come to a decision.
Yes. Uh -huh.
Get dressed.
Don't do that. I'm ticklish.
On your ankle? That wasn't my ankle.
Come on, get dressed. What do you mean, get dressed? I haven't finished
sleeping.
When are you getting up?
Tomorrow.
It's tomorrow.
Get up.
So it seems he had every reason to commit suicide. More than anyone else
reason to kill him. Sure, that's why he picked a big fight with Gary in the
restaurant. Linton wanted Gary to walk out. He wanted Gary to hate him. So it
might make it easier for him to take Linton's death.
Makes sense.
We're releasing Gary tomorrow.
Because of what we said? No, no, because of the barium traces on Linton's hands.
Barium? Yeah, barium traces on a hand means that the hand has fired a gun
24 hours.
Well, there you go. That's absolute proof Linton shot himself.
Well, that's not absolute.
Well, it's pretty good.
But there are a couple things that don't fit.
Like that broken window.
If Linton shot himself, who broke into the house? Now, that's what's been
bothering us. Us, too.
I've been thinking about it all the way over here.
Listen, is this crazy?
I'm always losing my keys and having to bust into my own house.
Once a neighbor even called the cops.
Well, maybe that happened to Linton. He misplaced his keys, broke the window to
get in.
You mean that could be right?
It's as good as anything we've come up with.
Well, now all we have to do is find the keys and wrap the case.
Whatever you say, Mr. Rothie.
Now, where are the keys?
If we knew that, they wouldn't be lost, would they?
Can
you
find my driver's license?
I was really worried about you there for a while, Rozzy.
But that story you phoned in was good stuff.
Much better than that garbage you sent in yesterday.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm sitting down. Go ahead, tell me.
You gotta be kidding.
No, I want to do it. I'm sharing my byline with Billy Newman.
Share your byline?
Look, she filled in the spaces, didn't get in my way, she did a good background
story. Fine, fine, we'll run the background story.
No, it's more than that.
I want to share the credit with her. She deserves it. All right, Rossing, it's
your byline.
Oh, and Lou.
Yeah? My name comes first.
Hey.
Rossi wants to share his byline with that girl.
I think that's the most intimate he's ever been with a woman.
Maybe when Rossi gets back, we should send him on this nursing home
investigation.
Why don't we send the girl? What girl?
Newman, the one from the other side.
She did a good job on this.
Maybe we should get over here and see what she can do.
I'm for that.
I'll have Charlie Hume take care of it.
Why don't you call her yourself?
Who, Newman?
No, Irene.
I tell you, Billy, to get Mr. Wonderful to share his byline with you is a coup.
It was terrific.
The only disappointing part was the cops solved it before we did.
Well, they generally do.
But I'm very proud of you, Billy. Now come on home fast.
Goodbye.
Do you need anything else, Irene?
No, thanks. This is fine.
Are you staying late tonight?
Yeah, I think so. I've got a pile of stuff I haven't even touched.
Okay. Well, I'll see you tomorrow.
Okay. Do we have anything interesting to eat around here?
Like a candy bar?
No.
Do you want me to order you a sandwich?
No. Maybe there's some yogurt in the kitchen.
Go home. Go on.
Bye -bye.
Good night, Ben.
Good night, Irene. See you in the morning.
Now, how did I know I'd find the editor of what is definitely no longer the
women's section in the kitchen?
How about a drink?
Why?
Thank you.
You drink like a man.
So do you.
Want some eggs?
Oh, no, no, no.
Don't bother. I am not hungry. What kind are you making?
With. With chili and peppers?
Mm -hmm. Nothing like it.
Killed the taste of the eggs.
Yeah, well, I like it really hot.
How hot?
Uh, when my bald spot begins to sweat.
Uh, I brought you something.
What?
Plastic roses.
My favorite.
doing here? Mm -hmm.
You're a girl in New Mexico.
You're a reporter in New Mexico.
Newman? Yeah? I want to come over to our side for a while.
Do some stories.
Wow.
Yeah.
All right. I'll suggest it to her.
Is that all you can say?
Oh, excuse me. I'm not a theater. You're taking away my best reporter and I
didn't thank you properly.
Well, uh, I did walk all the way over here.
Was it a long walk?
Endless. You'll get used to it.
You know, Renie, we've had breakfast together.
We've had lunch together.
Here's to our first dinner together.
You know, Lou, I really hate the name Renie.
You'll get used to it.
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