Original subtitles

The lab here at the medical center ran 11 different tests.

In all the tests, the results were the same.

No trace of steroids was found in Billy Leon's system.

It can be stated conclusively that he is not using steroids at the present time,

nor has he used them in the past six months.

Despite rumors to the contrary, Mr. Leon's excellent physical condition

to be nothing more than the result of good old -fashioned hard work and

determination.

Thank you.

Now, you heard the man.

Billy here is clean.

He earned the title of heavyweight champion.

And make no mistake, he's going to keep that title next month when he fights

Boomer Wilson at the fabulous Crown Resort Hotel in Atlanta.

Now that all this steroid stuff has been laid to rest once and for all, maybe

you guys could go back to writing the truth, which is that Billy Leon is the

world's best damn heavyweight boxer.

We're going to see you in Atlanta. Thank you.

It's enough, folks.

It's enough. Come on, what's wrong?

No time. I'm sorry, but thank you.

Okay, folks, party time. Let's get home. Let's get back. Let's get to Atlanta.

He was here.

Who was here?

Nick Underwood, that little worm that started this mess, was here. Of course

was here. He broke the story. It'd be weird for him not to be here.

Everybody would think that he made the whole thing up. He did make it up. Come

on, Billy. It's over. Let it rest. I thought the guy was a friend of mine and

he'd suck at me. Billy, forget it. The story's not your problem anymore. It's

his. When this story comes out and they find out what happened, Nick Underwood's

gonna have a lot of explaining to do. Please, get in the car. Just get in the

car. Give me the scum. It's like putting something in the bottom of your shoe.

What happened was I got fed false information. That's what happened.

Of course, I confirmed it with two doctors.

They must have been paid to lie to me. I mean, that's all I can figure.

No, but I'm sure gonna find out.

Oh, no, no. Come on, Bill. Don't print an apology.

That's gonna make me look so stupid.

Look. Give me three weeks, okay? I'll find out who was responsible for this.

I'll make him write the retraction, I swear it.

Okay.

Okay, you're a peach.

Ciao for now.

It's 3 .45, Wednesday the 25th.

I've got three weeks to figure out who set me up.

People I talked to were totally convincing, therefore they must have

coached by...

Someone who knows Billy well.

Therefore, I'm going to find out everything I can about Mr. Leon's close

personal friend.

All right, let's go. Come on, come on, champ. Who's the champ? Who's the champ?

Underneath. I want some village stuff here. Who's the champ? Who's the champ?

Just got off the phone with the cable company.

30 % increase in subscription.

Wow, you must be kicking yourself.

Yeah, where's that?

We're not negotiating a better cut.

Next time, Alana.

Next time.

How's the IQ, Billy? Feels okay.

How are you going to protect it? Get him out of here.

Looking good, Billy. Can I talk to you for a minute? You want to talk? Yeah,

preferably in private.

I'm going to break your head. Get him out of here. I found out some things,

Billy. Will you listen to me? I can explain what happened. I don't want to

you. I don't want to see you. Get out of my face.

Good. Well, she's going to see it. All right. Thank you very much for coming.

Alana, look.

Positively edible.

Thank you, Clay. How do I look?

The cummerbund is fastened in the back, not in the front. What?

Oh, help me. It's not a back support.

Where's my guest of honor?

That's just what I was wondering.

I don't remember inviting you.

An oversight.

Would you do me a favor, please? Would you get, like, a security guard over

here, please? Thank you very much.

You like being thrown out of every place you go? No.

As a matter of fact, I don't like it at all, really.

But that's how badly I want to talk to Billy.

Who is where, by the way?

He'll be back later. He went for a run.

Yeah, my orders. I thought I would settle them down after what happened

Get his mind back to boxing. Not beating the tower on a padlock for having

sports rights.

Don't count me out yet.

As I've been trying to tell Billy, I made some very interesting discoveries

about those nearest and dearest to him.

My next story is going to knock his socks off.

Would you remove Mr. Underwood from the premises, please? I believe he's

trespassing.

Registered? Yes.

Ciao for now.

Ciao.

Very nice color on you, Mickey. Very nice.

Always a pleasure.

It's 8 .15 p .m. Friday the 11th.

I went over to Clayton's cocktail party to try to talk to Billy, but he wasn't

there and I wound up getting the bums rush.

But I'm going to keep on trying.

I own that much.

Hello.

I thought you might call.

Sure. If you want to.

Nine?

Nine it is.

Bingo. Excuse me.

Excuse me, sir. Would you like your bed turned down?

Sir?

Monroe Weber of Stewart, Tidyman, Herzog, and Harris. Look, thank you for

down. Our main area of expertise lies in contract law, not criminal law, I'm

afraid.

I'm not making any promises.

You said there'd be some coffee. Whole pot of coffee. It's right in there with

Billy.

Why can't these things happen in the daytime?

Well, 72 % of all homicides happen after 8 p .m.

Huh.

Hope Billy hasn't drunk all the coffee.

Me too.

Anyway, Mr. Underwood caught a bullet through the chest. Police are pretty

it came from a gun they found in a dumpster on the hotel grounds.

Billy's gun.

He travels with a gun.

Protection. A lot of nuts out there, especially if you're famous. Look,

the police report.

Go on in. If there's anything I can help you with, I'll be right here.

for a nice, long, slow run, just like Mickey told me to.

I got done a little after nine.

I went to my bungalow, took a shower so I could get over to the party Clayton

was throwing.

Next thing I know, there's a bunch of sirens and people running all around.

Pretty soon, my wife comes in and tells me that somebody just shot Nick

Underwood.

Next thing I know, the police are knocking at my door asking me whether

they were holding was mine.

I said, no, mine's right here.

Only when I opened the drawer it was in, it was gone.

About then they started reading me my rights.

How many people knew you kept your gun in your room?

It wasn't any big secret, if that's what you mean.

Figured if people knew I had it, they wouldn't mess with me.

You leave your door locked or unlocked when you're on that run?

Unlocked. Move stuff a lot when I run. Keys and stuff.

Well, the maid said she saw you running from the direction of Nick Underwood's

bungalow just before she found the body.

She saw me running. That's all.

I didn't even know the guy had a bungalow, damn it.

I just got done telling him I was going to tear his head off.

Any sane person would have been on the first plane out of there.

Take it easy, son.

I didn't kill him, I'm telling you. I didn't kill him. I didn't kill him.

I didn't kill him.

That's a stick of dynamite. It's been here all night. Just let him off the

steam.

I've seen enough.

Sorry to drag you out of bed.

Just send us your bill.

It'll be included in my fee.

Wait a minute, wait, wait.

You're taking the case?

Well, as clear as the day in July, he didn't do it.

If Billy had wanted to kill that man, he wouldn't have used a gun. He would have

just ripped his feet.

Okay. Okay.

And you see, the fight was postponed until after the trial.

Billy's found guilty. They'll cancel it altogether.

You like guilty fights, don't you, Bob?

Well, I wouldn't mind if you got Billy off. Oh, well, I'll give him a bad shot.

Well, looks like Mr. Underwood was sitting here reading when he

got shot.

Well, it was lodged in this chair. Yeah, it came from Billy Leon's gun.

We just got the ballistics report.

This, uh, Mr. Underwood's briefcase?

Found it in the closet.

That's odd. You'd think a sports writer would have a notepad or a piece of paper

or something to write on, wouldn't you?

Well, apparently, he didn't write any of his stories.

He dictated them into this. The secretary back in New York transcribed

Where'd that come briefcase?

Now apparently it served as a kind of diary as well He was recording what had

happened earlier that night when somebody called him. We think it was a

Yeah This is what's at the end of the tape

Mate saw Billy Leon running from the direction of this bungalow at

9 .05.

Oh, thank God.

Bill for the defendant is set at one million dollars.

Next case, a million dollars.

With all due respect, Your Honor, don't you think that's a little excessive?

My client has no criminal record and was a national hero when he represented

this country in the Olympics.

And he has never shown himself to be anything less than an outstanding

Your client is a man whose violent temper is a matter of public record, Mr.

Matlock, and whose fists are registered lethal weapons.

They'll stand.

Next case.

Your Honor, I strenuously object to the punitive nature of this amount.

It's okay. I can pay it.

What? A man wants a million bucks, I'll give him a million bucks.

One phone call and it's in my checking account.

Got a pen?

Your Honor, bail's fine.

One little piece of pie?

Oh, no, I better not.

No coffee, though. Oh, sure.

There you go.

You know, I've seen this Billy Leon fight a few times. He's pretty good.

But he's got one weakness.

He's a thucker for a left hook.

Is he? Oh, yeah.

You keep throwing that right, you make yourself a sucker for a left hook.

I know that from my own boxing days.

I didn't know you were a boxer.

Oh, yeah, neighborhood club stuff, but I fought pinweight.

Pinweight? I thought flyweight was the lightest. No, pinweight.

I fought pinweight.

Anyway, let me show you what I mean.

Come on. Put them up.

Come on.

Okay.

Now, in slow motion, throw right at my chin.

Go on.

Now I see it coming, so I tilt my head.

And now your right jaw is exposed. So here comes the left hook.

Pow!

See that?

That's being a sucker for a left hook.

Okay,

now let's do it for real this time. Come on, come on. Don't worry, I won't hurt

you. I'll stop short. Come on. Come on.

I'm sorry.

Are you all right? Are you all right? I'm fine. I'm fine.

You walked right into that. I know. I know.

You didn't do it right.

Ben? In here.

I better go. You don't want to finish your coffee?

I have coffee at home.

Oh, hi.

Hi. Hi.

What happened to him?

Just one of life's tragedies.

What do you got?

Just here from New York.

All the tapes Nick Underwood made in the last month. Man, but you're taught.

What do you suppose we got in there?

The secretary said he'd been working the last three weeks, day and night, to try

to figure out who'd fed him that fake steroid story.

Do you have any luck?

Plenty. Apparently, his next article was going to reveal what he found out about

some of the people closest to Billy.

Who? His promoter, Clayton Roth, his trainer, Mickey Callahan, and his wife,

Alana. The secretary said he had dirt on them all.

Well, as Sherlock Holmes used to say, we've got ourselves three suspects.

Did Sherlock Holmes really say that? I don't know, but it would have been a

line for him, wouldn't it?

Come in, Mr. Matlock, please. Sit, sit right here. Yes, fine, thank you.

Were we in my real office up in Chicago, I could offer you any number of

beverages, but since I'm just renting this place while we're in Atlanta...

Warm diet pop?

Nothing. Okay, good.

So, what can I do you for?

Well, I understand that Nick Underwood knew a few things about you that were,

well, rather embarrassing.

Really? Like what?

He knew about those fights you fixed back when Billy was just getting

I don't know what you're talking about.

You figured all Billy needed back then was a good dose of self -confidence, so

you paid three fighters to take dives in at work.

That's crazy.

Well, it makes perfect sense to me.

You call Mr.

Underwood, anonymously, of course, and give him the names of people who say

saw Billy using steroids, and you pay them to lie, and then sit back and wait

for him to go to press.

But Billy is my bread and butter.

Why would I go ruining his career by planning a story like that?

Because you knew it wasn't true.

Once he was tested, he'd be exonerated.

And all the press would be millions of dollars in free publicity.

I would never do anything like that.

So you're denying you had an affair?

Once.

I cheated just once.

It was when Billy was in Tokyo last year for that exhibition match.

It was short and not even particularly sweet.

I don't know how the hell Nick Underwood found out about that.

Well, he did.

And if he'd gone public with what he knew, Billy would have divorced you and

left you without a penny, wouldn't he?

He would have tossed me out on the spot.

He hates getting lied to.

And fixing a fight is about as big a lie as you can get.

So you'd have lost a job that pays, what, six figures?

I can't give you an exact figure, but... But if Billy'd canceled that fight to

get back at you for planning that story, you'd have been out a lot of money,

wouldn't you?

Yeah, sure, right.

But if you're suggesting I killed Nick Underwood in order to keep that from

happening, you're wrong.

I was in the hotel ballroom that night hosting a reception.

You never left?

Don't you think somebody would have noticed if I left my own party?

Not if you'd only gone a few minutes.

I arrived just after it began and I didn't leave until the sirens started

by. Then I went outside with everyone else to see what was going on.

Did you hang out with anyone in particular while you were there?

Usually when I go to these things, all I do is eat and drink.

Mostly eat.

I don't socialize too good.

So no one can say for sure that you were there the whole time?

Yeah, someone can say that.

Me?

Look, I got a lot of work to do, okay?

Oh, I understand you're a very busy man.

You know, promoting fights is what a lot of people claim we lawyers do.

Well, you just give me a holler if there's anything else I could do for

Okay.

Bye, Mr. Ross. Bye -bye.

Goodbye, Alana.

I'll see you later Mickey.

I'm here.

I'm here.

I got great news. So do I. Me too. I think I know who the killer is.

They all had motive. They all had access to Billy's gun. They all had access to

Billy's gun. And they all had access to Billy's gun. I know.

And all the arguing and the background material in the world isn't going to

us which one of them did it.

Ben?

I didn't hear that.

Oh, your door was open, so I thought you were... Oh, you're busy.

Well, yeah, kind of. We're having a little disagreement over who the real

is in the Billy Leon case.

Oh, the old deadlock, huh? Yeah.

What's up?

Well, you know the other night when I was giving you those boxing pointers?

Oh, I'm sorry about that. No, no, no, it's all right.

Boxing is one thing, but defending yourself is another.

So, you know what I use?

What? Karate.

You know karate?

Are you kidding?

I'm a gray belt.

What's a gray belt?

Senior citizens.

Now, Benj, I want you to pick up that ruler.

Pretend it's a knife.

This ruler's a knife?

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

Okay. Now, in slow motion, I want you to come at me and try to stab me. Oh, Les,

I don't think... Oh, come on, Ben.

Slow... motion.

Ha!

Ha?

Karate! Ha!

Here I come.

See that?

That's a karate block.

See? Like that? Now I just take my other hand and I form a

vice.

Now your hand is completely tied up, right?

Pretty good. Yeah.

All right, now, forget the slow motion and really try to stab him.

Come on, no, no, it's karate. Come on, give it everything you got.

I'm sorry. It's all right.

Well, you people go back to work.

And, uh, as you were.

Why did he always do things like that?

One of life's tragedies.

Well, he's wearing...

A lot of people were reading glasses.

Yeah.

But when the police found his body, his glasses were in his briefcase and his

briefcase was in the closet.

Maybe he was wearing contacts.

Not according to the coroner.

Maybe he wasn't just sitting there reading the paper when the killer walked

Maybe the killer wanted it to look like he was sitting there reading the paper.

We know from the bullet hole that Mr. Underwood was sitting in that chair when

he was shot.

What we don't know is where the chair was.

It may not have been at the desk.

The chair's on casters.

We don't even know if it was in his room.

Impossible. But there must be a way of telling if this chair was moved in here

from another bungalow. Well, not really, Luthier. The chairs were ordered at

exactly the same time, in exactly the same style, and upholstered in exactly

same fabric.

They are, to all intents and purposes, absolutely identical.

Are they marked to tell what bungalow they're from?

There would be no need.

Well, would any of your housekeeping staff be able to tell them apart?

I don't think so.

Maybe they'd recognize a rip or a tear or something.

Well, of course, you are most welcome to ask, but I do think it's most unlikely.

I'm really very sorry.

I really wish I could be a little more positive.

Well, we got three of them.

Same motive.

Same opportunity and the very same chair in every room.

Mr. Matlock.

Mr. Matlock.

Hi. Hello. I don't believe we met. I'm Clayton Ross. Mr. Conrad McMasters.

Michelle Thomas. Great. Pleasure. I was looking for you when they told me in the

office that I might find you out. Yeah.

Well, I have something to say to you. Something rather urgent. May I speak

freely? Oh, of course.

Our conversation the other day got me to thinking about the party I threw the

night of the murder. And suddenly...

I remembered something.

What was that?

I remember seeing a red stain on the right sleeve of Mickey Callahan's suit,

right about here.

Yeah? Yeah. Any idea what time you saw that?

Yeah, well, it was just before the police arrived, because I remembered I

just about to say something to him about it, but then being interrupted by the

sirens. So it was about 10 after 9 then?

Sure.

I realize this could be construed as a rather transparent attempt on my part to

cast suspicion on another human being, but I... Oh, no, no, no, no, no. We know

you're just trying to be helpful, and we appreciate it. Good. Yeah.

Good. Well, if I could be helpful in any other way, let me know. Okay.

Nice to have met you.

I want you to watch him like a hawk.

I'll be all over him.

He could be telling the truth.

Yeah.

Stick in there, stick. Don't block with your head. All right, get off of there,

get off of there. Freddie, who's the champ, Billy? Come on.

That's it, that's it.

Work, work, work, work.

I don't know, he's taking too many shots in the face. Come on, tell me about it.

His mind ain't here today.

Hey, Ben.

What's up, Billy?

All right, break.

I'm Ben Matlock, Billy's lawyer.

You must be Mickey Callahan.

Yeah, I know who I am, but who is this?

Michelle Thomas.

Hi.

Don't be embarrassed.

I react like that every day.

Could I speak with you for a moment?

Yeah, sure.

All alone? Yeah.

Freddy, do me a favor, huh?

Get Billy on the heavy bag for a bit. Work him. I'll be right back.

Okay. All right, Billy. Let's go. Come on.

You mind if I sit down?

Go ahead.

You always watch him work out?

Always.

The perfect life.

No, Miss Thomas.

I'm just trying to make up for not being perfect.

Well, I'll be darned. I did get something on this sleeve here.

Any idea what it is?

Well, it's a drink of beer. It can't be wine or anything.

Oh.

What were you eating?

Whatever they were serving. I'm not what you call picky.

Uh -huh.

They serve shrimp?

Sure. You like shrimp?

Oh, yeah.

Cocktail sauce?

All the time.

Because that's what I think this is.

See, that stain could have proved you were the killer.

Instead, it just proves you're kind of messy.

Ain't that the truth, huh?

Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah.

Anything, uh, anything about that night you, uh, happen to remember?

No, I can't say that there is.

Well, did, uh, did Clayton Ross and Mrs. Leon stay at the party till the police

arrived? As far as I know.

Alano and I went together. Their bungalow's right next door.

But once we got inside, we split up pretty quick.

I sort of made a beeline for the food.

Well, I'll let you get back to the gym.

Billy's not going to have much time to train once the trial starts.

Oh, he doesn't need any more training.

I mean, the kid is there. He's ready.

It looked that way to me.

Yeah.

Okay.

Mr. Matlock, listen,

I know that you know about how I fixed those fights.

I just want to thank you for not telling Billy.

Well, the trial starts tomorrow.

I wouldn't be thanking me.

Ben, are you all right?

What are you staring at?

Something I should have seen a long time ago.

These chairs are all alike.

Nothing is exactly alike.

It's not possible.

It's so hot in here. Yeah.

That's one of the places to stop.

The sun has been shining in here all afternoon.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Let's go.

You may call your first witness, Mr. Matlock.

Defense calls Alana Leon to the stand.

I thought you said her testimony wouldn't do us any good.

I was wrong.

How long have you and Billy been married, Mrs. Leon?

Three years.

How'd you meet?

I was the hostess at a restaurant in Phoenix, and he walked in.

And it was love at first sight.

Ours is a very happy marriage.

I wonder why Nick Underwood came to the Crown Hotel so early. I mean, the fight

was a whole week away. What was he doing there?

How should I know?

He didn't come to cover the fight at all, did he? He came to tell Billy

something that he had found out about you and one of your husband's former

sparring partners, Tom Kirby.

Objection. Call for speculation.

Sustained.

You had an affair with Tom Kirby a year ago, didn't you?

It was the stupidest thing I have ever done in my entire life.

I'm sorry, Billy.

He didn't mean a thing to me, I swear.

According to Mr. Underwood's notes, which his secretary transcribed, he not

knew about your affair, but was planning to reveal it.

in an upcoming issue of Sportsweek, and if that had happened, Billy would have

divorced you in a matter of days, wouldn't he?

Well, I'd like to think that he would have forgiven me.

Given his temper, he would have divorced you in a heartbeat, and you know it.

No more sports cars, no more diamonds, no more trips to Paris.

And you couldn't handle that.

So you left the cocktail party that night.

called Nick Underwood, told him to come to your bungalow. You pled with him not

to reveal your secret, but he turned you down, didn't he?

So you took Billy's gun out of the drawer and you killed him. No.

Objection. There's no basis in fact for any of these questions.

There is basis, Your Honor, if the court will bear with me.

Overruled for now.

Thank you.

With the court's permission, I'd like to replay People's Exhibit 32, which...

It's believed to be the last recording ever made by Nick Underwood before he

died.

It's 8 .15 p .m. Friday the 11th.

I went over to Clayton's cocktail party to try to talk to Billy, but he wasn't

there, and I wound up getting the bums rush.

But I'm going to keep on trying.

I own that much.

On first listening to that, you would assume that Mr.

Underwood was planning to meet someone.

Presumably his killer at 9 o 'clock.

But how about this?

Hello?

This is Alana Leon.

I thought you might call.

Is there any chance we could talk?

If you want to.

Come to my room as soon as you can. Bungalow 9.

9? That's right.

Objection, Your Honor. This is pure speculation.

Your Honor, I submit that nine is not when Mr. Underwood was killed, but

where he was killed, and I intend to prove it. The objection sustained.

Prove what you want, Mr. Matlock, but please stick to the facts.

Mrs.

Leon, would you kindly tell the court what bungalow you are staying in?

At the Crown Resort Hotel.

Bungalow 9.

Objection. It's already been established that the decedent was shot and killed

in his own bungalow.

It has been established that that is where the decedent's body was found.

I intend to demonstrate that it does not necessarily follow that's where he was

killed.

Overruled.

Thank you.

Conrad?

This will take a moment, Your Honor.

Good, that's good.

Okay, right here, that's good.

There.

There, that's perfect, perfect, perfect. Thanks.

I hope everybody can see.

Now, Ms. Leon, you're familiar with the Crown Resort Hotel, are you not?

Yes, I am.

This is an overhead view of the hotel and the grounds. And these

desk chairs, which you may recognize, were subpoenaed from the hotel this

morning. They were taken from Bungalow 3, Bungalow 20, Bungalow 17,

which was Nick Underwood's bungalow, and Bungalow 9, which again was

your bungalow, wasn't it?

Yes. Yeah.

Now, at first, all these chairs look alike.

I mean, similar, don't they? Just about.

I suppose.

Yeah. But on closer inspection, you see there are small differences.

You see, this one here got a little slit in the back there. See?

A little slit in the back. And here, this one, this one's got a little tear

right on the arm. See there?

Do you notice anything else different about these chairs, Miss Leon?

No, I don't.

Now, this is Bungalow 17.

Now, the sun shines in the afternoon from this direction.

This direction.

So, Bungalow 17, not 20, not 9, not 3. Bungalow 17

is the only bungalow that gets the afternoon sun shining through this

window onto the desk and chair.

Now, Mrs. Leon, what would you think would happen to the fabric of

that chair if it was exposed to the afternoon sun day after day after day?

I don't know.

Well, it would fade, wouldn't it?

See, you might not notice it, except it is up against these other chairs, see?

This chair is faded from the sun.

And you would think the tag would say that this chair came from bungalow 17,

Nick Underwood's bungalow, but it doesn't.

It says it came from bungalow...

Nine. Your bunkum.

While this chair, the one with the bullet hole in it, the one Nick

sitting in when he was murdered, is not faded at all.

You switched them, didn't you?

You left the cocktail party.

called Nick Underwood to your room when he got there. He sat down in that desk

chair. You begged him not to review your affair.

And when he wouldn't back down, you shot him.

And you simply left his body in that chair, wheeled him out of your bungalow

through the darkness into his bungalow, placed a newspaper in front of him so

people would think he had been reading.

Wiped up your fingerprints.

Then... You took this chair that had been in number

17, Nick Underwood's bungalow, and wheeled it back to your bungalow.

Mrs. Leon... You commit a murder.

You can't make even...

Even the tiniest, not the tiniest mistake, because as sure as the sun

every morning, someone will find it.

him a break. Hey, would you give him a break, please? Thank you.

Well, I'm sorry.

I understand.

You okay?