All language subtitles for Murder She Wrote S01E03 Birds of a Feather 1080p BluRay FLAC2 0 H 264-NTb_Subtitles_3

I'm not particularly proud of what I had
to do to earn that money, but I did it.

And I want what's coming to me.

Don't ever touch me like that again.

You don't seem exactly broken
up over Drake's death.

Tell you what. I'll split
a bouquet with you.

If I love him, how can I
justify spying on him?

For your own peace of mind.

No reasonable person could
assume for one moment

that I had anything to
do with Al's death.

No. Other than the fact
that you despised the man.

Catch that killer!

Mr. Drake.

What do you say, kid? Out for
some early morning air?

I've gotta talk to ya.
So... talk.

I need my money. We already
had that conversation.

You'll get it when you're
finished. Well, I'm finished.

Come on now, kid.
We got a deal.

You're in it till I say otherwise.

Now, look.

You listen to me.

I'm not particularly proud of what I had
to do to earn that money, but I did it.

And I want what's comin' to me.
You're a nice kid, Howard,

but don't you ever touch
me like that again.

Now, tonight, you be there, or you
don't see a dime, you got that?

Fritz.

Come on, Fritz.

You know, Al, too much of that stuff
can give you a heart attack.

You worried about me,
Mike, or just fantasizing?

I thought we had a deal. We do.

Just be patient. Yeah,
well, I've been patient

for about six months.

I think you're jerkin' my string,
Al, that's what I think.

Have you raised the money? Now,
that's my problem, isn't it?

Don't push me, Mike. Things are
goin' real good right now.

But I can live without you. Yeah?
Well, speaking of living,

anybody can live without anybody.

Fritz.

Actually, it's going to be a
very simple wedding, intimate.

Intimate. I see.

Well, we can still make it very festive--
flowers on each side of the altar--

God bless you.

Oh, thank you.
I'm allergic to flowers.

Just how intimate a
wedding will this be?

Uh, well, I just flew in from
New York a few days ago,

and, uh, my aunt just
flew in from Maine...

and maybe a few of Howard's friends.

Speaking of the groom, I do have
choir practice in five minutes.

I'm sorry I'm late.
Oh... Howard.

I got hung up at the office,
and traffic's brutal.

Sorry, Reverend. If we could
do a quick run-through--

How's your aunt?
She get in okay?

Great. I checked her into the
hotel first thing this morning.

If you'd both stand here,
side by side, facing me.

I made dinner reservations at this
terrific place on the wharf.

Oh, damn.
Howard, not again.

I'm sorry, honey. I can't
make it. I wish I could.

Howard, this is ridiculous.

I do have the little tots
waiting in the rehearsal hall.

It's a very important client.

They can't all be that important.

Every--

Every night?
God bless you.

Honey, if there was any way I
could make it, you know I would.

Five nights in a row?

We'll do it tomorrow.

Will we, Howard?

Maybe you'll be tied up again.

God knows
I wouldn't want

to drag you away from a client.

Vicky!

Are you sure these are Maine lobsters?

Certainly, madam. They're
flown in fresh every day.

Maybe they've got jet lag.

Would you care to select one?

Well, we'll take the
first two that move.

Very good, madam.
Follow me, please.

Would you ladies care for a cocktail?

Uh, what would you like, Vicky?

I think I'd like a glass of white wine.

I think
I'll have the same.

Thank you.

Anyway,
I met him in New York--

Gosh, it must have been
about a year ago.

He was acting in an off-Broadway show.

Oh, I thought he was in insurance.

Oh, he is... now. But back
there he was an actor.

Well, actually, he was
mostly a cabdriver.

You see, in college, he played
the lead in Charley's Aunt,

and I guess it just sort
of got in his blood.

And what kind of transfusion
led him into life insurance?

He wanted to start over again--
you know, a new career.

See, he didn't want to get married until he
could be absolutely sure of his future.

That's why he came out
here to San Francisco.

That's sensible enough if
that's what he wants.

Oh, believe me,
Aunt Jess.

I would marry Howard no matter
what business he was in.

I really love him, and Howard loves me.

He really does. I mean,
I know that for a certainty.

Damn.

You know, Vicky, it's not abnormal
to have last-minute doubts.

You've always read me like
a book, haven't you?

If I'm prying, you just stop me.

Thank you.

Thanks.

You know how they say there's
nothing quite so romantic

as San Francisco after dark?

I wouldn't know. I've
been here for five days,

and for five straight nights,
Howard has been working.

Well, of course, selling
life insurance is--

I dropped by his office
yesterday to surprise him.

They told me that he hadn't
worked there for a month.

Oh.

Yesterday, I met him for breakfast, and
he had these circles under his eyes,

and he smelled like perfume.

Hmm. Of course, some
men do wear cologne.

This afternoon at the chapel,
he lent me his handkerchief.

Look.
That's not your shade.

No. And these matches,
from some nightclub?

They are all over his apartment.
I wanna go to this place,

you know, to find out.

But if I love him, how can
I justify spying on him?

For your own peace of mind,
I think you have to.

Good evening, Mr. Carter.
Right this way.

Another full house, Mr. Drake? We're
ahead of last week by nine percent.

A Man'd be a fool to sell a gold
mine like this, right, Barbara?

Well, you'll break a lot
of hearts if you don't.

As long as I don't break yours, baby.

I'll bring the printout
around before I leave.

Al, we gotta talk.

Go away, Patterson.
I'm busy.

I hope you don't think you have
Freddy tied up for another four years.

You made the deal for him.
I know who made the deal.

Look, I'm not saying he
won't play the club.

Al, Freddy loves you.

Sure. The whole world loves me.

He just wants some freedom to
explore a few more things.

I got him that talk show,
and now he's hot.

He's hot because this club made him hot.
Now, you tell Freddy he works here,

or he doesn't work anywhere.

Got that? That's what
we have courts for.

Ladies? A table for two, please.

Your name, please? We don't
have a reservation,

but we don't mind waiting.

We could seat you at
11:00... next Thursday.

That's a bit longer than we had in mind.

Really?

Felix.

Now I'm getting stubborn.

Excuse me. Mr. Drake?

Oh. Excuse me.

I really hate doing this
sort of thing, but, uh,

my aunt and I just dropped by,

and we would really like a table.

That's my aunt right there.

You probably recognize her. No.

J.B. Fletcher.
Oh, really?

Really. Who the hell is J.B. Fletcher?

Uh, a very famous mystery writer.

She's had six best sellers. This morning
she was on Bay City Breakfast,

and tomorrow she appears with
Dana Burns and then in the afternoon,

she's gonna meet the mayor.

Ms. Fletcher, so delighted you
could join us this evening.

Raymond, a table for Ms. Fletcher
and her party, please.

How very nice.
There's just the two of us.

Table for two.
Of course.

Enjoy the show, ladies. Thank you.

Merci. Merci.

It's not a very good view of the stage.

But a great view of the patrons.

How could Howard afford to bring
her to a place like this?

And now, the one and only,

our very own, in his third
year-- Freddy York!

Freddy.

Hey. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful.

My name is Freddy York. I'm
here to give you some yuks.

I wanted to look good
for the show tonight,

so I went to a barbershop
right before the show.

I figured I'd get a shave, a shoe shine
and a manicure-- the works, right?

Guy's shavin' me. I look down at this girl
that's giving me a manicure. She's really cute.

I say, "Listen.
I'm Freddy York.

I'm the comedy star at Les Champignons.

Why don't you come catch
the show tonight?"

She said, "I'd like to, but I'm
married." I said, "Come anyway.

Tell your husband you're
going out with the girls."

She said, "You tell him.
He's shaving you."

I met a girl at the bar last night.
She told me she was into astrology.

She wanted to meet a Leo, so I
introduced her to my accountant.

What a great crowd. Yes.
Tomorrow at 9:00. Good night.

Mrs. Drake.
What a pleasant surprise.

I didn't know you were here tonight.

What am I supposed to do?
Make an appointment?

I'll seat you immediately.
Was Mr. Drake expecting you?

Oh, I doubt it.

Show Mrs. Drake to her table.

[Freddy] "You're never gonna sell
a car with 120,000 miles on it.

Why don't you just lower that odometer,
you know, go in and lower it?

You'll sell your car."

I saw him last night. I said,
"Hey, Eddie. You sell your car?"

He said, "No, I'm not gonna sell my car.

I only got 12,000 miles on it." Felix.

Find Mr. Drake.
Tell him his wife is on the premises.

[Freddy] ...has two rooms reserved at the
hotel. He gets there a little late.

The clerk says, "Sir, Mr. Jones,
I'm sorry. I only got one room left."

Felix, what are you doing backstage?

I'm supposed to tell
Mr. Drake his wife's here.

His wife?
Yeah.

Well, nevermind. I'll tell
him. You go back out front.

[Freddy] They go upstairs.
They take the twin beds.

Middle of the night, the
secretary gets up.

She goes, "Psst.
Mr. Smith, are you sleeping?"

He said, "What's the matter?"
She said, "I'm chilly."

He says, "Well, if you're chilly,

would you like to pretend that
you're Mrs. Smith tonight?"

She says, "Why,
Mr. Smith, I'd love to."

He said, "Good. Get up and
shut the window yourself."

And you're a great crowd. You're really
beautiful. Thank you. Thank you.

You're great. I love you.
Stick around for the next show.

I'll see you.
You're beautiful!

Victoria, have you noticed there's something
a little strange about this place?

What do you mean? I don't know.
I can't quite put my finger on it.

Thank you. Thank you. I'm glad you're
all having such a great time.

And now, the moment we've
all been waiting for,

the star of our show,
that lovely chanteuse,

Michelle Dupont!

There's a somebody
I'm longin' to see

I hope that he turns out--

Catch that killer!
Stop him! He's a murderer!

Stop him!

Victoria!
Howard?

Howard?

I-- I can explain everything.

Mike.

What the hell's going on?
Drake's been shot.

Shot? Who shot him?
The new guy-- Howard.

May I please see Mr. Griffin?

I'm sorry, lady.
Nobody can go in there.

- [Victoria] I have to see him.
- Can't let you go in. I have my orders.

Please? Look, we're gonna be married.

Here. You can take my purse,
and you can search me.

Vicky?

Well,

I guess it'll be all right.
Just for a minute.

Thank you.

Oh, Howard.

Oh, Vicky, I'm sorry, honey. I
wanted to tell you, I really did.

It was just a job. I know!
Isn't it wonderful?

What?
That it was just a job.

I thought that--
Well, never mind.

Vicky, I didn't--
I didn't shoot him.

I swear I didn't.

Of course you didn't.

Suspect in there?
Yes, sir.

Which one?
The tall one.

Bill, take her downtown and book her.

Him.
Whatever.

- All right. Coming through. Stand aside.

Stand aside. Coming through.
Step aside, please.

Uh,
I'm Lieutenant Novak.

Now, did anybody touch anything in here?

No. Well, which one of
you saw the killing?

I did. Well, I mean,

I walked past the open
door, and I saw her--

Him-- standing over
Mr. Drake with the gun.

This gun?

Yes.

I must have screamed, and
he dropped it and ran out.

Hmm. Smooth grip,
Charlie. You might even get some prints.

Yeah. How 'bout that?

Lieutenant Novak, did you notice the small
white feather on Mr. Drake's jacket?

Who are you?
Oh, I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Did you see the murder?
Well, actually, no.

I was sitting out front
watching the show.

Then, Ms. Fletcher, would you
mind doing me a great big favor?

Oh, I'll do absolutely
anything I can to help.

Would you please get out of here?

Please, ma'am?
Please, ma'am?

Okay, Mr. York. Now, is there anything you
might want to add to this statement?

Hey, what can I tell you? I was
making a living out front,

he was dyin' backstage.

Sign it.

You don't seem exactly broken
up over Drake's death.

I'll tell you what. I'll
split a bouquet with you.

Pick whatever kind of flowers you want.

Sweet guy.

I hate to tell you this, Floyd, but
I think the sun just came up.

Oh, I'm glad you told me.

Yeah. Ralph, you got
anything on that gun yet?

Excuse me.

New York? You sure?
Great work, Ralph. Thanks.

Lieutenant Novak, I've been waiting
several hours outside there.

Oh, lady, please. I haven't slept
all night, and I'm tired.

You know, you're not a witness in this
case, and I just don't have time for you.

I, too, have been up all night, and
I have got jet lag on top of it.

I was supposed to go on a TV show
this morning, but I canceled it

because I thought that
this was more important.

Now, either you find time to talk with me,
or I will go on that television show,

and my subject will not
be my next book--

It will be the insensitivity and arrogance
of the city's homicide division.

All right. All right.
I'll make it simple.

Okay. The suspect was seen standing
over the victim holding the gun.

The only fingerprints on the gun was
his, and it was common knowledge

he'd been arguing with
Drake about money.

And, oh, yeah, the gun was
stolen from a pawnshop

about six months ago in New York City,

which is where Howard
comes from, I believe.

Now you've got the picture?
Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant.

And I'm sure you ran a nitric
acid test on Howard's hand

to determine whether or
not he fired the gun.

We haven't gotten to that yet. Well,
I hope you do it soon,

because after a few hours,
that test is meaningless.

Now, I'd like to see Howard.
You can't see him, Mrs. Fletcher.

He's in the lockup.

That's quite all right,
Lieutenant. Where can I see him?

Hey, Princess.
How 'bout a date?

How'd you like this shoe for breakfast?

Move it, tough guy.

[Novak] But I just said that. I
mean, didn't you hear me say that?

Didn't I just say that? I mean,
what am I in? An echo chamber?

Look. Just get it done, okay? Bye.

You've got 10 minutes.

Ms. Fletcher,
I don't know what to say.

I'll tell you what to say. Now,
you sit right down there.

Now, did you or did you
not kill that man?

No. He was dead when I walked in.

Well, I'd like to believe that.

On the other hand, you
did lie to Victoria.

I never actually lied.

You told her that you had a
job with an insurance firm.

Well,
I did... for almost six months, but--

Mrs. Fletcher, do you know how hard it
is to sit in someone's living room...

when they'd rather be
watchin' television

and tell 'em how rich they're
gonna be after they're dead?

They fired me. Victoria
would've understood that.

I know. That's the trouble. Vicky'd
marry me no matter what I was into,

including unemployment,
welfare and starvation.

Look, I don't know how to explain this,

but I wanna be a performer,

and I knew if I didn't give
it a shot, a real shot,

that I'd be miserable and
so would my marriage.

See, that's why I answered
the ad to Les Champignons.

Was that a crime?

Of course not.

Would you like a coffee?
Sure.

It was only supposed
to be for two weeks.

I was gonna quit before
Victoria got out here.

Mr. Drake said I was the world's
worst female impersonator,

but the customers liked me 'cause
I was klutzy and I made 'em laugh.

He wouldn't let me quit. He knew I was
broke, so he held back on my wages.

That still doesn't explain why
you were standing over him

with a murder weapon in your hand.

Well, see, I finished my act, and I went back
to his office to quit and get my money--

Mr. Drake, I'm not listening
to any more excuses.

This is my last night, and
I want what you owe me.

Does this belong to you?
Mr. Drake.

You don't have friendly Fritz with you
now. This time, you're gonna talk to me!

Murder! Catch that killer!

Sure, it was stupid, but I panicked.

All I could see was my
picture on page one,

getting busted in a dress.

Great. We can put it in a wedding
album next to my mug shot.

Oh, Howard, I am so relieved. We've
only had one killer in our family--

1777, I believe-- and the
redcoat shot first.

But, you know, I wonder what
Miss Stevenson was doing there.

Well, everybody knew that
Mr. Drake and Barbara worked late...

a lot together.

Yeah, I get the idea.

Now, look. I've got the name
of a very good lawyer,

and is there anything else you need?

How 'bout a pair of pants?

Yeah?

Well, hello, Mrs. Fletcher.
How nice to hear from you again.

[Jessica] Yeah. I was just wondering
how the nitric acid test came out.

Uh, I'm still waiting for the results.
However, you'll be happy to know

we've established the time of death.

Now we're getting somewhere. Drake
was killed between 9:50 and 10:05.

Fifteen minutes. Isn't that a little
precise, even for the medical examiner?

It has nothing to do with the
medical examiner, Mrs. Fletcher.

That's when York was performing.
The banging of his drums

covered the sound of the shots.

Yeah, but-- Now, Mrs. Fletcher,
if you'll excuse me now,

I have the commissioner waiting
for me on the other line.

Bye.

What is it about that woman
that makes me nervous?

I think she's kind of cute.

Uh, excuse me.
Yeah?

Oh, uh, J.B. Fletcher, isn't
it? Hi. Bill Patterson.

Oh.
Nice to meet you.

I did a little checking
on you, you know.

Six paperbacks and one movie sale.
Listen, do you have representation

on the West Coast?

Oh, thank you, Mr. Patterson. Yes,
I do have an agent.

Actually, I was looking for
Miss Barbara Stevenson.

She the girl who works in the
business office. Uh-huh.

Well,
I hope they're doing a good job for you.

Through the club, backstage,
past the dressing rooms.

Thank you.
Bye.

It's all been a terrible
shock, but I know that Al

would want us to carry on.

I have to find somebody to replace
Howard. Let me worry about that.

Naturally, all contracts
will be honored.

Michelle, we have to do
something about your lighting.

You're getting some ugly
shadows under your chins.

[Mike] Well, if you wanna critique
my performance, Mrs. Drake,

I'd prefer the privacy
of my dressing room.

Don't you turn your back on me!

Don't you ever speak to me that
way in front of the staff again!

I suppose we do have to keep up
appearances, don't we, darling?

Oh. Excuse me. Mrs. Fletcher,
what'd they do? Find another body?

I was looking for Miss Stevenson.
Down the hall on the right.

Uh-huh. You're Howard's
aunt, aren't you?

Well, very soon, we hope. You know,
that's a shame about this whole thing.

I mean, he's a really nice kid,
and he's got a lot of talent.

And I'm not just talkin' about
wearin' those dresses either.

Yeah, well, I think you'll
be pleased to know

that he did not kill Mr. Drake.

Oh, he didn't?
Who did? The bird?

You know, you have a wonderful
sense of humor, Mr. York.

It's too bad it's wasted in a dump like
this, huh? I wouldn't call this a dump.

What would you call it?
You know, in Vegas--

You think they'd give a star
a dressing room like this?

They got a llama in one
of their shows up there.

The llama's got a better
dressing room than this.

Well, at least you got a great
view. I mean, look out there.

You can see Alcatraz.

That's my manager,
Patterson.

He couldn't negotiate me more
money, so he negotiated a window.

[Freddy] Did you wanna
see me about something?

Hmm?

Oh, no, no. No. Forgive me for
interrupting you. Uh-- Uh--

Down the hall on the right.
Thank you. Thank you very much.

[Barbara] If you'd like the figures, I
could have them for you in a few minutes.

Dear Barbara. Always so organized.
You know where the bills are filed

and the bodies are buried.

Mrs. Drake, you misunderstand.

I bet you even type 80 words a minute.

Frankly, Barbara, I don't know how I
could ever run this club without you,

but I'm gonna try.

You're fired.

Could I give you a lift?
Oh, I know you.

Howard's aunt... almost.
Uh, right, right.

Say, that looks heavy.
Jump in. It's my treat.

Uh, thanks.

I really appreciate this
now that I'm on a budget.

I just got fired.

Really?
Uh-huh.

It must have been so interesting
working at the club.

It was. You wouldn't believe
some of the things that go on.

But the only way to run an office is
to learn to keep your mouth shut.

I never divulge company business.

Oh, I wouldn't dream of
asking you anything.

However, I, uh, did hear something.

I wouldn't tell a soul.

Well, Mr. Drake was already dead
when Howard came in the room.

No kidding!

Then who killed him?
Oh, I wouldn't know.

I only got here yesterday.

I wouldn't be surprised if she did it.

Mrs. Drake?
Mm.

I suppose she would inherit the club,
but she seems such a nice lady.

Nice?

Lucretia Borgia in furs.

Confidentially-- and, I mean, this
is just between you and me--

She's having an affair with Mike.

Mike.
Michelle.

The female impersonator?

Oh.
What a phony.

And nobody's supposed to know this,

but Mike was trying to buy the club
from Mr. Drake. Can you believe that?

And behind his back, he and Mrs. D. are
slipping off to Lake Tahoe.

But I thought-- Ohh. Now, don't
ever say you heard this from me,

but I wouldn't put it past
Bill Patterson to kill 'im.

Oh. Mr. York's agent.
Uh-huh.

Why would he--
The contract.

See, not many people know this,

but Mr. Drake had Freddy under
a seven-year contract,

and recently, big offers
were coming in for Freddy.

I am talking about megabucks. Except that
Mr. Drake wouldn't let him out of the contract.

Stop at the top of the hill.

Thanks for the lift.
And don't worry.

I won't say a word about
what you've told me.

It is so nice to talk to someone

who knows how to be discreet.

Thinking of buying it or merely jumping?

You kept me waiting. Is this
a sign of things to come?

Mike, if we're gonna bicker
like an old married couple,

let's do it over something
important, huh?

Is it something I said?

No. It's the way you said it. You know,
I'm not used to being summoned.

Oh, darling, don't pout. It was
merely a request, pure and simple.

I thought we should get our stories
straight for that Mrs. Fletcher.

She is determined to get Howard off
the hook by putting someone else on.

Well, surely not me?
Nor me!

I mean, no reasonable person
could assume for one moment

that I had anything to
do with Al's death.

No. Other than the fact
that you despised the man

and that you were talking to a
lawyer about divorce proceedings.

And naturally, you didn't care

that he reneged on his promise
to sell you the club?

So here we are. We both
got rid of Al. Yep.

You have the club and all of
his money, and I have you.

A fortuitous turn of events.

Couldn't have worked out
better if we'd planned it.

Which of course we didn't-- Well--

Darling, is there something I should
know just for my own peace of mind?

Funny, Mike. I was about to
ask you the same question.

You know, if you did kill him, it
wouldn't make any difference.

I'd still feel the same way about you.

My very thought about you, Candice.

Oh, Mike, you don't know how much
better I feel now that we've talked.

Me too, darling.

Mike-- Michelle-- was backstage
getting ready to go on.

Of course, Barbara-- And I
sent Felix backstage at once.

Yeah, but you're sure about Patterson
and Mrs. Drake? They were out front?

Everybody saw them.
Right.

Lieutenant? Oh,
I'm so glad I caught you.

Any result on the nitric acid test?

Uh, it was negative,
Mrs. Fletcher. Oh, negative.

That means he didn't fire the gun.

Well, maybe he was wearing gloves.

Well, if he'd worn gloves, his fingerprints
wouldn't have been all over the gun.

You can't have it both ways, Lieutenant.

Incidentally, have you noticed how many
people around this club are wearing gloves?

No, but I'm sure you've got a list.

Also, I'm not sure about
the time of death.

Now, that's one thing
I am sure of.

Oh, you mean your theory
that the shot was masked

by Freddy York's drum act? Mm.

Well, can you prove that scientifically?

How would you do that,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Did you hear that? Yes,
Mrs. Fletcher, I heard it.

Well, uh, let's try it with music.

Now, let's just pretend one
of the girls is dancing.

Once again, please,
Charlie!

Oh, dear. I heard that.

We all heard it,
Mrs. Fletcher. With the door closed.

With the door open.
With music.

Even with a Mummer's Parade
going across the stage.

Face it, Mrs. Fletcher.

The shot would have been heard
except during York's act,

when York was playing the
drums on the stage.

Yes, I suppose that is the
only plausible explanation.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher. I'm so
happy to see that you're satisfied.

Now, if you'll excuse me-- Hey,
Lieutenant. Wait a minute.

I mean, what the hell is going
on here? A detective audition?

What's this lady trying to suggest?
That one of us killed Drake?

Are you all right,
Mrs. Fletcher? Oh, yes.

Oh.

Oh. Oh, dear. I woke you up.

Yeah. Well, when I work all night,

I sleep a little during the
day, or at least I try to.

I'd like to talk to you about Howard.

You didn't come up here and wake me up
to tell me we're holding the wrong man?

You already know we are.

Uh, I made some coffee. You
want some? Oh, thank you.

What a pretty cat.
What's her name?

George.

Oh, she likes you.
Most people, she hates.

Oh, that's the impression
I got about you.

Aha. Well, that's my office persona.

Well, it just goes to show you
can't go by first impressions.

Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, you're a nice lady,

but, uh, I think you're
making a big mistake.

Howard Griffin is guilty.
Oh, for heaven's sakes.

There were at least four people who
had better motives than Howard.

For instance, Mrs. Drake.

Yes. She gets the business.
I know.

Freddy York and his agent,
Bill Patterson,

trying to break
Freddy's long-term contract.

I know, Mrs. Fletcher.
I read the Chronicle.

I suppose you know that Michael
Dupont wanted to buy the club.

Yes. And that
Michael and Mrs. Drake

were having an affair?

Mrs. Fletcher, you're a bright gal.
You would've been a great cop.

But look. This is the
real world, so please--

Just leave the police work to us.

The last thing in the world I want
to do is interfere, Lieutenant.

But that's not what I'm worried
about. Look, we took some lab tests.

The rope that was holding the stage
light was eaten through by acid.

It was not an accident.
Oh, dear.

Somebody wanted to kill Mr. York. Maybe.

Or it could've been meant
to hit somebody else.

I don't know how to thank you,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, just so you know,
if you jump bail,

the State of California has an
option on my next four books.

And the name is Jessica. And I really
appreciate the suit, Jessica.

Well, I think it made a better
impression on the judge.

Let's call Vicky and celebrate.

I think that's a bit premature.

Howard, did you see Mrs. Drake
backstage during Freddy York's act?

No.
You're sure?

I'm positive, but I did see
her comin' in the stage door

just before I went on.

Howard, I think that you should
take Vicky to lunch yourself,

and I'll take a rain check. Wh--

Where are you goin'?

Oh! Good shot! Oh, my! What a
nice dog! What's his name?

Fritz, but be careful.
He's had attack training.

That's a very attractive outfit.

I've never seen it done in black.

I'm in mourning,
Mrs. Fletcher.

You know me?

By now, everyone at the club knows you.

Do please accept my condolences.

Your husband's death must
have been a terrible shock.

Yes. We were very close.

Then I suppose you must
have talked to him

shortly before the tragic event?

No. I didn't see him.
I arrived during Freddy's act.

Strange. Someone said they saw you
come in the stage door earlier.

They were wrong. Let me set you straight,
lady. I didn't kill my husband.

Oh, I'm sorry.
Did I suggest that?

Look, if you insist on sticking
your nose where it doesn't belong,

then check on Freddy York and
that bloodsucking agent of his.

Oh, yes. The contract with the
club. Not the club. With Al.

A personal services contract,
which is now null and void.

That's right. I went to the hospital
today to bring Freddy flowers,

and do you know what he did?

He gave me notice.

Then he's well enough to
receive visitors. How nice.

Las Vegas.
Atlantic City!

Hollywood! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

First and foremost, to Al Drake.

I never thought I'd see the day
when I'd be drinking to Al Drake.

Oh, am I interrupting?

Not at all. Mrs. Fletcher,
come on in. Come on in.

How about a bit of the bubbly?

Oh, no, no. Thank you. Oh, you're
looking so much better, Mr. York.

Well, thank you. I've
been thinking Lourdes.

You met my manager,
Bill Patterson. Oh, yes.

Oh, the lady seems to know
just about everybody.

Well, what is it this time,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, just wanted to wish Mr. York
a speedy recovery and, uh--

[Bill] "And"? And what?

Just ask a few more questions,
like did I murder Al Drake?

The answer is no.

Did Freddy murder Al Drake? The answer
is no. Bill, Bill, take it easy.

It's okay. I know you're a mystery
writer, but I'll tell ya.

You're making a fool of yourself.

Why don't you get back to Nantucket?

Maine.

Whatever. My client was onstage
when Drake was killed.

As a matter of fact, somebody tried
to kill him with a stage light.

Isn't that curious?

Michelle Dupont is sure that
someone wanted to drop it on him,

and Lieutenant Novak thinks
they were trying to kill me,

and now you think it was
meant for Mr. York.

You know, it is a bit of
a puzzler, isn't it?

I'm sorry, Vicky. I think we
oughta postpone the wedding.

I thought marriage was supposed
to be for better or worse.

That's afterwards.

Darling, I just can't ask
you to tie yourself to me

with all this hanging over my head.

But you're innocent.
I don't have a job!

I don't care.
Aunt Jessica, tell her.

What do you think,
Aunt Jessica?

I think Noah is building
his ark in there.

Darlings,
I am going to fall on my face

unless I go to sleep.

Won't that noise disturb you? Right now,
I could sleep through Armageddon.

Now, listen to me, children.

We are going to get to the
bottom of this. I promise you.

There's something I am overlooking.
I just know there is.

But I think it'll come to
me if I have a good sleep.

Okay.

We'll talk later.

Of course!

It suddenly came to me, the feather.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

What came to you? Drake wasn't
shot during Freddy York's act.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, as I recall, we
scientific-- The killer used a silencer.

They don't make silencers for that gun.

Remember the feather we found
on Mr. Drake's jacket?

Yes. It came from the bird.

No. Whoever killed Drake used a pillow
to muffle the sound of the shot.

That's why nobody heard it.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

If what you say is true, he could've been
shot before Freddy went on the stage.

Exactly.

There's no bullet hole in this pillow.

But this pillow was not in this room

when we discovered the body.

Mrs. Fletcher, please.
Wait, wait, wait.

Don't take my word for it.

Look. No pillow.

These are police photographs.
Where did you get them?

Your partner, Charlie. You know,
he's really a very nice man.

Then someone put this pillow in
here after the investigation.

Because Drake's pillow was
damaged by the shot.

[Novak] So the murderer
had to get rid of it.

But the murderer was afraid that someone
would notice that Drake's pillow was gone,

so he put this one there
to cover his tracks.

I don't know if you've noticed,

but the settees in all the
dressing rooms match.

Probably a bulk purchase.

Lieutenant, would you help me
to demonstrate something?

Please stand right there.
Would you mind telling me

what this is all about?

It's very important
that you don't move.

You haven't moved, have
you? I haven't moved.

What were you trying to do?
Kill me? Aha! You moved.

Of course I did!
You heard it descending.

I'm not deaf. Well,
neither was Freddy York.

That was great. That was-- I
really enjoyed that, you know?

You're quite a performer.

You should get yourself a Guild card.

I didn't expect to find
you here, Mr. York.

Well, I heal fast.
You see, I got good genes.

That was very theatrical, diving off
the stage when you didn't have to.

Well, it seems to me all you proved is that
I could've staged the falling lights.

That doesn't mean I had anything to
do with what happened to Al Drake.

You know what? I'd like to stay around
and talk, but I gotta fly to Vegas.

I hope my arms don't get tired.

You're beautiful.
I'll see ya.

Will you lighten up? I mean, you both
know I was onstage when Drake got hit.

Yeah, but the lady here thinks you
shot him before you went on stage.

I think you used Mr. Drake's
pillow to muffle the shot.

Then you removed your fingerprints
from the gun, got rid of the pillow,

and went on stage.

Who writes your material? I
mean, who writes this stuff?

Your punch lines just don't work.

I think you made one
very serious mistake.

I don't have time for this.
I have a plane to catch.

You were afraid that
someone would notice

that the pillow was gone
from Mr. Drake's room,

and that they would figure
out what had happened.

So you brought in the
pillow from your room.

Everybody--
Everybody in this place

has got a pillow just like that.

No. This is your pillow. It's the
only one that is sun-faded,

like the settee,

because yours is the only one that is
sitting right next to the window.

It's my luck.
It's my dumb luck.

Half the people in this
club wanted Drake dead,

and your niece's boyfriend's
gotta get tagged for it.

I knew you were trouble
as soon as I saw you.

What was I gonna do?
Spend the rest of my life

workin' in this rinky-dink club?

You ever try to tell jokes when someone's
got their hands on your throat?

Surely murder isn't the answer.

Yeah, well, you call it murder.
I call it a career move.

Look at me. What do you see?
I'm not just another comedian.

I'm Freddy York. I'm the first
guy that did his own rim shots.

I'm like the Edison of comedy.
I'm Robert Fulton on the drums.

So Al Drake sees me one night. He says, "Kid,
you're good. Here's a long-term contract.

It's your shot, your big break."

He broke my spirit.
That man broke my heart.

I couldn't let him do that.
I'm a creative genius.

Fair is fair.

He gave me a shot.

I gave him a shot.

Ba-dum-bum.

Should've shoved you
under that stage light.

Why did you rig that?
Why don't you ask her?

I think Mr. York was afraid the charges
against Howard would be dropped.

They weren't strong enough, so he thought
perhaps another murder attempt,

particularly against himself,
would point to someone else.

Boy, you are good. I mean, you
are really, really good.

You ever think of taking
your act on the road?

You should play Vegas.

That reminds me. I better
cancel my tickets.

Doesn't look like
I'm gonna be goin'.

It's too bad.
I could've knocked 'em dead.

I'm sure you would have.

By the power vested in me by
the State of California,

I now pronounce you man and wife.

Oh, congratulations.
Thank you.

Congratulations.
Thank you.

Howard, that's wonderful.

I'm sorry about all the
problems. No problem.

Howard, we're gonna miss you at the
club. You got a lot of talent, buddy.

Oh, thanks, but I've got a new job
lined up, sellin' real estate.

Yes, with just enough time for a honeymoon
in Hawaii, thanks to Aunt Jessica.

Ah.
Howard. Howard.

I got big news for ya, baby.

I've been on the phone for
an hour. I got you a job.

No way, Bill. I'm not
wearing any more dresses.

Forget the dresses.

This is an acting job.
Two days a week on a soap.

It's in Hollywood.
Starts on Monday.

Monday? What happened with real estate?

And what about Hawaii?

Well, we'll just have
to forget about that.

This is what Howard has always wanted
and that's what we're gonna do.

What do you think,
Aunt Jessica?

Well, I don't usually give advice,

but in this case,
I say go for it.