All language subtitles for Murder She Wrote S03E05 Corned Beef and Carnage 1080p BluRay FLAC2 0 H 264-NTb_Subtitles_3

Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.

If a sandwich was delivered,
well, it could help

to establish the time of death.

Corned beef for everybody!

You're gonna have dinner
with Grover Barth tonight,

and he'd better come in here tomorrow
morning with a big smile on his face.

The account can be had.

There's a $100,000 bonus in it for you.

Myron inherits the business.

Which certainly won't be worth much
without the Corned Beef Castles account.

Grover didn't care much for the
campaign you laid out this morning.

You're under arrest for the
murder of Larry Kinkaid.

We're goosing up the 18 to
34 demographics by, uh...

17 million impressions.

If we can squeeze the franchise
holders another two percent

of gross for advertising,

we're gonna have Grover
Barth's Corned Beef Sandwich

over the billion served this year.

Well, that's very impressive, Larry,
but, uh, how much is it gonna cost?

Well, we haven't fine-tuned
it yet, Grover,

but, uh, rough cut, oh,11 million.

Oh, by the way, Grover.

Ah, we still don't have your John
Hancock on the renewal contract.

Now I know you've had a lot of details
to attend to and everything,

but, uh, we're down to two
weeks on the old agreement.

Well, I'll just glance this
over and get it back to ya.

Get the little woman's input, you know.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Uh, listen, why don't you have
Polly join us for lunch?

Fine.

That's a beautiful blouse,
Victoria.

It just kind of sets off that
peaches-and-cream complexion.

Listen,
I'll lay on a reservation for four.

You're really gonna love this place.

See ya.

He didn't like the presentation,

and he's stalling on
that renewal contract.

But he likes you,
Victoria.

I want you to sit next
to him during lunch.

I'm sorry, Mr. Kinkaid.
I won't be able to make it.

I'm having lunch with my husband
and my aunt. She's visiting us.

Would you forget the family reunion?

We're talking survival here, kiddo!

"Francoise." I read about that
place in The New Yorker.

Apparently half the advertising
deals on Madison Avenue

are cooked up at the tables over lunch.

Yeah, three martinis, a salad,

and your name in
Advertising Age for dessert.

Maybe we should eat there.

Why not? I'm sure Victoria can
put it on her expense account.

Oh, part of the privilege of
overpaying for the penthouse suite.

You get your own elevator.

- Hold that. Hold that elevator!
- Elevator!

I'm sorry.

That's all right.
Hi, Howard.

Hi. You landed anything yet?

I got a couple of things
working, yeah. Good. Good.

Uh, I'd like you to meet Jessica.
Jessica, this is Aubrey Thornton.

Uh, another one of Larry
Kinkaid's galley slaves.

How do you do? This is Jessica Fletcher,
Victoria's aunt.

Ah, a wonderful kid, your niece.

She's got everything to go the
distance in this racket,

brains, youth, good looks and a very
high threshold for humiliation.

The only thing she's short on is guile,

but, uh, Larry's giving
her lessons on that.

Am I right in assuming that you're

the resident cynic,
Mr. Thornton?

Well, I would be, but
I don't have tenure.

Oh, I'm going to get
downstairs before all

the best bars tools are taken.

Nice to meet you,
Mrs. Fletcher. Good luck, Howard.

Bye-bye.

This way.
Mmm.

Some place, huh?
Yes, indeed.

Hi, Howard. I called her.
She's on the way. Hi.

Thanks. Let's go over here and sit down.

Aunt Jessica?
Victoria.

Oh, I am so impressed!

My goodness.
A penthouse suite,

account executive...

You're going to have to
bring me up to speed

on life in the fast lane,

but how about a pit stop
first down at Francoise?

Oh, Aunt Jessica, I'm really sorry,
but, uh, we've got a crisis.

A command performance for the client, and
I won't be able to have lunch today.

Oh.
That's swell.

Aunt Jessica comes all the way
down from Maine, and you can't

fit her into your schedule.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
It's all right.

Business comes first.

Look, why don't I stop over,

and we can all have dinner together?

Wonderful. You'll stay with us.
Oh, can we make it late-ish?

Um, say, 9:00?
Perfect.

What Polly's saying is that, uh,
with the renewal coming up and all,

we're just sort of wondering who's
minding the store creatively?

Larry, we know
you did your best,

but Grover didn't care much for the
campaign you laid out this morning.

Well,
I just thought it lacked... imagination.

I mean, it's exactly the same thing we
did last year only with bigger budgets.

Well, I'm glad to hear
you say that, Grover,

because I think it's time for a whole
new approach, a totally new concept.

Fresh, exciting, power packed...

A radical marketing strategy based
on a new creative concept.

For example?

I'm going to scrap the entire presentation
I showed you this morning, Grover.

I want you and Polly in tomorrow.

I'm going to lay out a
whole new campaign.

It's going to blow you away.

Well, darling, maybe we'll be able to
renew the account with Larry after all.

I'll certainly drink to that.

I guess we'll be working together a lot.

50 million dollars a year
in advertising billing.

Leland, that isn't chopped liver.

Another 50 million even
chopped corn beef

would look very good on the
balance sheet, Christine,

especially when I take Biddle
Advertising public next year.

The account can be had.

There's a $100,000 bonus in it for you if you
can bring that account into the office.

Did I hear you say "vice president"?

If you deliver.

To the corner office.

Oh, my goodness! Talking
business makes my nose shiny.

If you gentlemen will excuse me?

Good idea.
I'll go with you.

You know, uh, Polly's going to be spending
the night with her sister in Queens.

Her sister can't abide me.

Oh, then you and I'll have dinner.

Well, actually, Larry, I was thinkin' more about
splittin' a chateaubriand with Victoria.

There's something about that
young filly that brings out

the stallion in this old horse.

I bet you could explain to her just how important
this is for her future on the account.

I'll make sure she understands.

Everything's fine.

I mean, Victoria. She's got a great job.
Her career's going through the roof.

Considering she's got an
unemployed actor for a husband,

she's doing great.
Oh, Howard.

What have I got to complain about?

So big deal.
She's supporting me.

I mean, just because we hardly
ever see each other...

She's working late most nights.

You know, she does look a little tired.

You know, that Larry
Kinkaid-- he uses people.

He burns them up, and then
he throws them away.

For all I know, one of these days,
he's going to ask Victoria

to put her body on the
line for a client.

Oh, Victoria is too levelheaded
for any of that sort of thing.

Jessica, I love her so much.

I feel like she's slipping away from me.

I mean, if it was just me,
I could go on with-- with nothing.

But she's got a real shot,

and I could never stand in
the way of her career.

Please, Jessica,

don't tell her
I said anything.

But, Larry, I've told you as the
controller of your company,

you don't want to hear.

Now I'm telling you as your own brother!

Later, Myron.

I don't have the time right now.

You're spending more money
than we're taking in.

Receivables are running
60 days in arrears.

And your major account, the
Corned Beef Castle...

Larry, we're holding nearly four
million dollars in unpaid media bills

that Barth hasn't paid for us yet!

Oh, uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kinkaid. I
know you're very busy, but, uh,

I've been working up some
new ideas for the--

Yeah, yeah, sure, fine. Why don't you
just, uh, leave 'em on the desk?

Larry, why wasn't I notified about the Corned
Beef Castles presentation this morning?

'Cause you're no longer on
the account, Thornton.

Corned Beef Castles is
my account, Larry.

I brought you that account
three years ago.

A mom and pop delicatessen in Buffalo.

You were over your head then,
you're over the hill now.

If you don't like the way I run
this agency, why don't you quit?

That's what you want, isn't it? Well,
let me tell you something, Larry.

I've got a contract.

You can't cut it anymore,
Thornton.

I think Aubrey has a lot to contribute.
Some of his ideas are very good.

Victoria, darling, you're a smart kid,

but an advertising genius, you're not.

You know why you're on this account?

You're on this account because
Grover Barth has the hots for you.

That's why he's taking
you to dinner tonight.

I have other plans tonight.

Listen, sweetheart.

You're gonna have dinner
with Grover Barth tonight,

and he'd better come in here tomorrow
morning with a big smile on his face

'cause you don't have a contract.

Mr. Kinkaid,

you may own this agency,
but you don't own me.

You're the one who accepts
all the fancy awards,

but it's people like me and Aubrey

and Phil Conklin, God rest his soul, who
have always ground it out for you.

But not anymore. I quit!

I don't need you.
I don't need any of you.

I am still the best advertising
man on this street.

I'm going to work here tonight.
All night, if I have to!

And tomorrow morning,

when Mr. and Mrs. Corned Beef
Castle come marching in here,

I am going to show them a new campaign
that's gonna knock their socks off.

Now get outta' here, all of you!

Mr. Kinkaid? Your secretary
seems to have wandered off,

but we did have
a 4:00 appointment.

Come in, please.

That man is impossible.

Well, at least you don't have to worry
about Larry stabbing you in the back.

He always gives it to you
right in the chest. Uh...

Take a friendly word
of advice, Victoria.

Don't quit until you've
lined something else up.

Howard and I are surviving
paycheck to paycheck.

But there's a limit.

Larry needs you right now.

Besides, he loves it when
people come crawling back.

You are talking to an expert.

I'll never crawl back.

But thanks. You're a pal.

Forget it, kid.

Well,
I'm gonna cut out early as usual.

You know, it gives me a warm feeling
to know that Larry has to pay me

whether I work or not.

Ciao.

To be quite honest with you,
Biddle Advertising is creatively barren,

and the prospect of learning at the feet
of a man like you is enormously exciting,

and I'm a very excitable woman.

Christine, I think we might
have something for you.

Why don't we grab some
dinner next week, and, um,

we can go over your portfolio?

I'd like that.

Ah, right now I've got to
put out a couple of fires.

Listen, why don't you give my secretary,
Mary, a call in a couple of days,

and, uh, we can set
something up, all right?

Thank you.
I've gotta run.

Oh, I forgot my purse.

I'd forget my head if
it wasn't fastened on.

Howard?

Aunt Jessica?

Hi, honey.

The audition went really well. I got a
feeling they're gonna offer me the part.

Gonna stop by for a drink with
my agent. Be home about 9:00.

Vicky, it's Jessica.

Life insurance. I'm gonna
be tied up for awhile...

That can't be due.

...with my publisher,
but I'll be there by 9:00.

Think of a nice place for
dinner, and it's my treat.

Howard, this is
Laverne at Sid Shakelman's office.

I promised to call you
if I heard anything.

Well, Mr. Shakelman is going with
Rod Waverly for the doorman's part.

He thought you were great, but
not world-weary enough. Sorry.

Right. Yes, I've got it.

Hi, Ms. Griffin.

Workin' late again, huh?

There's something I have to
settle with Mr. Kinkaid.

Hmm.

What happened, Ms. Griffin?

Let me see that.

"Outstanding Achievement in the
Field of Advertising, Larry Kinkaid."

Well, like they say,

this one had his name on it. Bag it.

Mrs. Griffin.

Why did you scream?

I mean, what did he do to you?

Nothing. He was laying
there when I came in.

I was terrified.

Well, uh, what were you
doing here after hours?

Was it "business" business or,
like, personal business?

Hey, you can't go in
there! She's my wife!

It's okay! It's all right. Sorry.

Listen, uh, I want you
to call the coroner.

Tell him I want that lab
report on my desk first thing

in the morning. Okay?
Yes, sir.

Oh, Bobby, call my wife.

- Tell her I ain't gonna make it, all right?
- Yes, sir.

Are you okay, baby?

Why'd you have to come back here?

Mr. Griffin,

does she work late a lot?

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

It means...

Lady, hey.

Lady, who the hell are you?

She's my aunt,

Jessica Fletcher. J.B.
Fletcher, the mystery writer.

Oh, that's swell.

That's just what I need.

Curious... that corned beef sandwich.

He wasn't poisoned,
Mrs. Fletcher.

He was brained with this
advertising award.

Yes, of course, Lieutenant.

Look, I don't want to
intrude here, but, uh...

Well, it seems to me that if
a sandwich was delivered,

uh, well...

Well, it could help to
establish the time of death.

The body was warm when we got here,

which means the time of death

had to be just about the time that your
niece here says she discovered the body.

What do you mean, "says"?
"Says" means...

Ah, Lieutenant, I'm-- I'm sure
the notion has occurred to you

that someone must have been
here before Victoria arrived.

Uh, well, perhaps the, uh, the security
guard has kept a report of some sort?

I came on duty at 6:00 after
the receptionist leaves.

Tonight I never left the desk
until I heard the screams.

So anybody coming in or out
has got to get by you.

All these names between 6:00 and 6:30,
I suppose they're employees leaving?

Yeah, everybody
cleared out about 6:30.

Thank you.

Now, wait a minute. These are...
These are all sign outs.

Well, here's a Grover Barth,

in at 7:00, out at 7:10.
Is he an employee?

No, Mr. Barth is a client.

"Mr. Corned Beef Castles."

And here's a Mary Jones. She
signed in and out around 8:30.

Yeah, well, she's the
interior decorator.

Now, was the sandwich delivered?

There's nothing on the sheet here.

The delivery guy
was here about 8:00.

Wait, wait, wait a minute.

Do you mind?

Now, this, uh,
Victoria Griffin.

She was in at 9:15.

Now, did she say anything?
Act strange?

She only said that she had something
to settle with Mr. Kinkaid.

Well, what's going on?

I'm leaving.
I quit yesterday.

And with Mr. Kinkaid dead, I doubt that
they will be renewing the account so...

Ah, whoa, whoa. We haven't
lost the account yet.

Myron and I have been talking.

I looked at those ideas you gave Larry
yesterday. They're really very good.

Good? They're terrific.

Now, I'm not going to go into mourning for
Larry. The fact is I hated his guts.

But if we can save the Corned Beef
Castles account, we can save this agency.

But I... As Larry's
only living relative,

Myron inherits the business.

Which certainly won't be worth much
without the Corned Beef Castles account.

I'll take over the account again.
We have to renegotiate my deal.

No more banker's hours.
You know, Larry never

listened to me on financial matters,

but damn it, I know a thing or two
about running a sound business.

We take those terrific
new ideas of yours,

and we put together a new campaign,

and we have Grover Barth
begging to renew.

Well, it's about time we
tried something fresh.

Whatever you're making, you
get a 10 grand a year raise.

Have you had a chance to tell
Howard about your raise?

No, not yet.

Aunt Jessica,
I don't want to burden you, but, uh...

I've been worried about Howard.

Well, now that you bring it up,

he did seem a bit down.

Do you suppose it could have
something to do with your job?

There are times when I wonder
why I'm even in this rat race.

There's so much pressure,
cutthroat competition,

and some of it really seems shallow.

Actually, the reason I'm
hanging in is for Howard.

For Howard?

To take the financial pressure off him.

So he's free to devote himself
to his acting career.

I love him so much, Aunt
Jessica. I just want him to be happy.

Victoria, do you and Howard
ever talk to each other?

Victoria Griffin?

Christine Clifford,
Biddle Advertising.

This is my aunt,
Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, yes, the famous writer.
Talent must run in the family.

Mind if I sit down for a moment?

Victoria, I have heard wonderful
things about your work.

You have?
Oh, yes.

They say Larry Kinkaid couldn't
make a move without you.

And now he's dead.
Oh, poor man.

Victoria, I hate to short
stroke this, but...

Leland Biddle wants you on our team.

You mean a job at Biddle Advertising?

Whatever you're making,
I am authorized to make it 10,000 more.

We can talk title later.

My goodness!

The advertising business is
certainly very volatile.

I hardly know what to say,
Miss Clifford.

Except that I do feel I have a
commitment to the Kinkaid Agency.

Okay. Maybe Mr. Biddle will go higher.

I'll have to check with him.

Call me.

Nice to meet you, J.B.
Love your product.

Thank you.

Vicky, you are really in demand.

Christine Clifford.

Now I remember where
I've seen that name.

On Larry Kinkaid's
appointment calendar, 4:00.

She's with the competition.
Why would she be seeing Larry?

Ladies.

Oh, Lieutenant Spoletti.

Any developments on
Mr. Kinkaid's murder, Lieutenant?

Yeah, I've got it just about wrapped up.

I've got motive, opportunity and a
lab report that makes it a lock.

Victoria Griffin...

you're under arrest for the
murder of Larry Kinkaid.

This is preposterous.

According to the lab report,

the advertising award was
definitely the murder weapon,

and the only fingerprints on it, aside
from Kinkaid's, were yours, Mrs. Griffin.

I had picked up that award
earlier to make a point.

Aubrey Thornton and Myron
Kinkaid will tell you that.

You see, Lieutenant, a
perfectly simple explanation.

And if the killer wore gloves,
that suggests premeditation.

That doesn't mean she couldn't pick
it up again and whack him with it.

Look, perhaps...

perhaps the security guard was
mistaken about who was still there.

The rent-a-cop?
The agency fired him.

They probably figured they weren't
getting their money's worth.

But if somebody had been working
late and not signed out...

And then slipped out

when the security guard went to
investigate Victoria's scream...

Maybe the award just fell on him.

You know,
I just had a thought.

Mr. Kinkaid may have died
just before you got there,

but the fatal blow could have
been struck much earlier.

Sometimes people linger for
days with a head injury.

Could I see the sign-out
sheet again, please?

You wanna see the sign-out sheet?

Terrific! Let's take a look
at the sign-out sheet.

Okay, here we go.
We got the sign-out sheet.

We got, uh, Grover Barth,
a client. He was in at 7:00.

Over two hours before
the guy got killed.

Lieutenant... And, by the
way, the guy had no motive.

And here we have our interior
decorator, Mary Jones.

Whom nobody has even heard of.

We're checking her out.

Mr. Kinkaid never mentioned her to me.

Uh, Lieutenant, doesn't the name "Mary
Jones" seem just a little prosaic to you?

Come again?

Oh, commonplace, ordinary,

You know, like John Doe.
Made-up. An alias.

Mrs. Fletcher, even if that were
true, which I ain't sayin' it is,

the bimbo came and went 45 minutes
before Kinkaid got conked.

And I assume that you're still
trying to find the deliveryman?

That was at 8:00! Do you know how many
delis there are in New York? Hundreds.

Look, lady, I know one thing.
Kinkaid was iced at 9:15

according to the medical report.

9:15! That is the magic number here.

The sandwich had nothin'
to do with nothin'!

I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but you're wrong.

The sandwich was delivered at 8:00. At
9:15, the sandwich was still uneaten,

and I have to ask why.

Maybe, just maybe, you
got something there.

I'll give you 24 hours.

Thank you.

Aubrey, good. Come on!

Now give me a situation report.

Everything's in high gear,
Myron.

The art department will have the graphs
and the charts ready for you about 5:00,

and the media people are working
up the numbers right now.

Excuse me.

I-I hope I'm not interrupting
anything important,

but your secretary seems
to be away from her desk.

Mrs. Fletcher.
Please, come in.

No, I've got her manning
the copy machine.

This is Myron Kinkaid.

He's our new leader.

I can give you about two
minutes, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, it won't take that long.

I just want to express my condolences.

Beautiful guy.
Everybody loved him.

But we're gonna pick up his
banner and keep charging.

Yes. Victoria tells me that
you inherit the agency,

and that you're going to do everything
possible to save the big account.

It won't be easy following Larry's act.

But we're gonna give it our best
shot. It beats going belly-up.

Yes, everyone would lose their jobs,

and it would be such a shame
to close up this office.

I mean, the decoration
is-- is so charming.

Look, it was nice chatting
with you, Mrs. Fletcher.

I can't imagine why you'd
want to redecorate it.

Redecorate?

Yes, I'm talking about Miss
Jones, the interior decorator,

who came to see your brother last night.

I've never heard of her. Larry just
had the place redone a year ago.

We don't throw money around for nothin'.

Oh, it was you who fired the
guard then. To save money?

Uh, that was me.

When you let the owner of the company get
killed, practically under your nose,

it's a fair assumption
you're not doing your job.

So I called the security
company for a replacement.

Yes. Well,
I mustn't keep you.

I'm sure you two have
big plans to discuss.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

I'd like to introduce a man already known
to many of you in this community.

A man who'll be manager

and co-owner of this
Corned Beef Castle,

Harrison P. Oswald...

who in the grand tradition
of American free enterprise

will be investing $100,000 in
the future of this community.

And now, for a special treat,

corned beef on the house for everybody!

Grover, is that check certified?

Mr. and Mrs. Barth.

My goodness, what a surprise!

Well, that was such a charming ceremony.

Well, I saw a notice about the
opening in the financial pages.

Wasn't it a shame about
poor Larry Kinkaid?

Oh, yes, such a shock for everyone,

particularly you,
Mr. Barth.

I understand that you were the
last one to see him alive,

except for the murderer, of course.

Why, Grover, you told me you
were going to the movies.

I had to visit my sister.
Grover can't stand her.

I did go to the movies, pumpkin. I--
I just stopped by Larry's office first.

I thought I left my extra
pair of glasses there,

but I assure you, Mrs. Fletcher, he
was very much alive when I left.

And were they there?
What?

Your glasses.

Oh, I found them in another suit.

Grover, let's
not stand around yapping.

I want to get this check to
the bank before it closes.

You'll excuse us,
Mrs. Fletcher? Bye.

I always knew when
Mr. Kinkaid was gonna work late.

You see, uh, around 8:00, he'd
always have a sandwich delivered.

Oh, uh, you mean from
a neighborhood deli?

No idea. I always brought my own lunch.

Oh, yes. Well, of course, it is
a great deal more economical.

Uh, did Mr. Kinkaid come out to get his
sandwich, or did you bring it back to him?

Oh, no, no. You never leave
your home post security, see?

No, I called Mr. Kinkaid, and told him the
sandwich was there and sent the guy back.

You gotta be very careful.

Are you quite sure

that it was Mr. Kinkaid on the
telephone that you spoke to?

Well, I only talked to
him two or three times.

I tell you the truth,

I didn't really know
any of the big guys,

but I think it was his voice.

But you can't be sure?

He only said, "Okay."

Uh, Mr. Ingram.
Yeah?

You told Lieutenant Spoletti that Mary
Jones, the one who checked in at 8:30,

was an interior decorator, but Myron
Kinkaid said they didn't plan to redecorate.

Yeah, that was kinda strange.

She showed up with some pieces
of material and a tape measure.

She said that she had forgotten to measure
the drapes in one of the offices.

Well, uh, could it have
been one of the employees?

Oh, no, no, no, I would have remembered.
No, this was a real looker.

Tall, blonde, legs up to here.

Tall and blonde?

Real sophisticated, expensive clothes.

I think she kinda liked me.

Did she, by any chance,
resemble this girl here?

Yeah, that's her!

Yeah, except on the card it
says, "Christine Clifford."

I guess Mary Jones is
her professional name.

Mm-hmm.
Uh, like a stage name.

Well, thank you, Mr. Ingram.
You've been most helpful.

Jessica?
Yes?

I just got a call from my agent.

They want me right away for a tryout.

That's wonderful!
A new play?

A TV commercial, but
at least it's a job.

Oh, that is exciting.
What's the product?

They didn't say.

But it's for
Biddle Advertising,

and I'm supposed to see
a Christine Clifford.

Howard, would you mind if
I came along with you?

Call it research.

Mind? Come on.
You'll bring me luck.

So when your loved one slips
off to final repose,

be sure the destination is Slumberland.

One phone call makes
all the arrangements.

Slumber ceremonies available
for all budgets.

Major credit cards accepted.

So remember,

when final repose arrives
for your loved one,

Mr. Slumberland is waiting.

I could have done it better.

You were fine, Howard.

You were terrific, Howard.
I-- I mean terrific.

We think you would be perfect
as Mr. Slumberland.

We'll contact your agent right away
and get the contracts working.

You mean, I- I've got it?

You're definitely the
Mr. Slumberland we've been looking for, Howard.

And, naturally,
Victoria will be your account executive.

Victoria? Victoria?

Well, think of it as a
kind of package, Howard.

You and your wife working together
on the same account here.

It has a nice feel to it.

Uh, would one of the strings on the package
be the Corned Beef Castles account?

That's the deal we're talking.

You know, Miss Clifford, I find the
advertising business just fascinating.

It's so competitive, and
yet, it's so chummy.

According to Larry Kinkaid's
appointment calendar,

you went to see him in his office at
4:00 the day that he was murdered.

There's nothing unusual about that.

He offered me a job.

I turned him down. It happens
every day in this business.

Well, I have-
I have a meeting.

I'll leave you to tie up the
loose ends, Christine.

It was nice to meet you,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Howard, welcome aboard.

Miss Clifford.

Did you, by any chance, return
to Mr. Kinkaid's office

later in that evening?

Of course not. No.

Well, I'm sorry, but the security guard will
identify you as the interior decorator.

And in view of your interest

in the, uh,
Corned Beef Castles account,

the police may feel that you have
a very, very strong motive,

unless, of course, there's,
uh, another explanation.

Well, it's not what you think.

When I was in Mr. Kinkaid's
office in the afternoon,

I borrowed something.

A file folder. With some of
Victoria's ideas for the account.

All I wanted to do was return that
file before Mr. Kinkaid missed it,

and the decorator seemed like a
good story to get by the guard.

Only Kinkaid was in the office and
caught you with the stolen file.

No!

No, Mr. Kinkaid was already dead when I
got into the office. I didn't kill him.

I swear!

I'm taking
Mrs. Fletcher's advice, Lieutenant,

and I'm telling you the truth.

And your story is that you were
returning stolen property?

Okay, I borrowed some confidential
material, but that is all that I did.

Fine. Fine.
Get her statement.

I didn't kill him.

Why is it I always figure gorgeous
blondes are lying to me?

Adolescent trauma,
Lieutenant.

But if she is telling the truth?

It means we've got the
time of death wrong,

and somebody got to him first.

But who?

Lieutenant Spolet...

Oh, hello, Mrs. Fletcher.
Hello.

Lieutenant, my name is Leland Biddle.

I just received a rather confused and
hysterical phone call from Miss Clifford.

I thought I should come in
and try to sort things out.

Have a seat.
Thank you.

Christine Clifford works for you?

She's an employee of my firm, yes.

She said that she stole some confidential
files from Kinkaid's office.

Good heavens.
She said that?

And she said that you'll verify it.

We're a highly ethical firm.

If Miss Clifford is involved
in some sort of theft, well,

I have no choice but to ask for
her resignation immediately.

But you were trying to take the
Corned Beef Castles account away

from Mr. Kinkaid's company?

Actually, we're no longer interested
in the Corned Beef Castles account.

Oh, that wasn't the impression
that I got this afternoon.

Yes, well, I have made some
inquiries since then.

And it would appear that the Barths have
filed for a Chapter 11 bankruptcy.

Bankruptcy?
Well, that's interesting.

Apparently they've hit
Kinkaid Agency with a...

a ton of media bills.

But, of course, you didn't know about
the bankruptcy the evening that

Mr. Kinkaid was killed,
Mr. Biddle.

Mrs. Fletcher, if you are suggesting

that I was in any way involved

with Larry Kinkaid's death,

I was having dinner with
a business associate

at the time that he was killed.

Aubrey Thornton at Francoise.

Oh, yes, of course. On the ground
floor of Mr. Kinkaid's building.

What time was that?
7:00.

Uh, we met at 7:00,
and we stayed till well after 9:00.

Actually, he was hitting
me up for a job.

The police arrived, just
as we were leaving.

Thornton will tell you that
I never left the table,

except for a few minutes to
make a phone call at the bar.

The barman will vouch for that. Oh.

If you'll excuse me,
Lieutenant,

I don't think I should make any
further comment on this matter

until I've conferred with my attorney.

Good idea.
Mrs. Fletcher.

Apparently, Mr. Biddle is leaving
Miss Clifford swinging in the wind.

Corned Beef Castles bankrupt?

Yes, I'm afraid that's
what Mr. Biddle said.

Well, then neither agency is
going to get the account.

That means my TV commercial
goes down the tube too.

Apparently Christine
Clifford is out of a job as well.

Howard,
I'm so sorry.

It's okay.

I can always get my old job
back at the insurance company.

What about your career?

All I ever really wanted was you.

I'll get it.

Oh, yes.

Griffin?
Yes.

A large pastrami and sausage.
Ah, thank you.

Oh, dear.
It's anchovy and olives.

Look, it says, "pastrami and
sausage" on the ticket.

I don't make 'em, lady.
I just deliver 'em.

What do I owe you?
That's, uh, $16.20.

And I don't carry around much change,
lady. Ah, that's all right. Thanks.

Thanks.
Uh-huh.

Actually, you know,
I'm not very hungry.

Uh, would you two mind if
I went out for awhile?

I won't be back till late.

Get this right over there.
They called twice!

Now what did you want on that, lady?
Mustard, sauerkraut, horseradish?

No, I'm afraid you don't understand. I--
I'm asking about a corned beef sandwich

that was delivered last night.

Somethin' was wrong with it?
No, no.

I-I was wondering if it was
delivered to Kinkaid Advertising.

Look, I realize that you have
hundreds of orders but, uh...

Well, this is the seventh
delicatessen that I've been to

and, uh, please, it's important.

Kinkaid? Over on
Madison Avenue? That's it!

What about it?

Well, could I talk to the
man who delivered it?

Lady, we get a lot of repeat business.
We got a reputation in this business.

Here's your sandwich, Linda.

If there was something wrong
with it, we'll make it right.

Corned beef, rye. Larry Kinkaid,
Kinkaid Advertising.

Yes. Does it say who delivered it?

Nobody delivered it. The guy
called and canceled the order.

Ah, come on.
Gimme a break, will ya'?

Why would I lie about a lousy sandwich?

I don't know. You tell me.

Uh, Mr. Ingram, what did the
deliveryman look like?

Huh, like a deliveryman.

I mean, all these meatballs...
They all look alike, you know?

Well, please try and remember.
It could be very important.

Ah, he was wearing a gray coat,

carrying a-- a Styrofoam cooler.

Oh, that sure narrows it down.

Uh-huh.

Was he wearing gloves by any chance?

Yeah, as a matter of fact, yeah.

He had a little woolen hat,

mustache, shades.

Tell ya' the truth, I didn't get a good
look at him if you know what I mean?

Lieutenant, why would a deliveryman
be wearing dark glasses at night?

Wait a minute.

Are you telling me that Kinkaid
was killed by some deliveryman?

I'm saying it's someone
posing as a deliveryman.

Would you recognize this
guy if you saw him again?

Yeah. Uh, maybe.

Uh, I don't know.

Lieutenant, I have an idea.

Would you be interested in trying it?

You got the time?

Cops. They love to make you sweat.

Two hours they got me waitin' here.

Well, nice try, Mrs. Fletcher.

But the security guard
doesn't recognize Thornton.

You struck out.

Maybe so, Lieutenant.

But since you brought Mr. Thornton
down here, couldn't we at least

have a chat with him?

This is outrageous!

First of all, you call me down here.

Then you keep me sitting out
there for half an hour.

What's going on?
I'm sorry, Mr. Thornton.

But Mrs. Fletcher here has a
wild idea that you might

know something about
Larry Kinkaid's death.

Well, uh...
Why, that's ridiculous!

I was having dinner with Leland
Biddle when Kinkaid was killed.

Uh, ask Biddle.
He was with me the whole time.

Except for a few minutes
when Mr. Biddle went into the bar

to make a phone call.

The express elevator would take you up
to the penthouse in only a few seconds.

Or anybody else in New York City,
Mrs. Fletcher.

I understand from Victoria that
Mr. Kinkaid was trying to squeeze you out.

It didn't matter to me.
I had a contract.

Yes, but no official duties.

I imagine time hung on your hands,
Mr. Thornton.

Victoria says you always left early.

Mmm. You must have had
Kinkaid's moves down pretty good.

Like the fact that he always ordered
a sandwich when he worked late?

You probably knew the
deli he ordered from.

What does Larry Kinkaid's taste in
short order food have to do with me?

Well, you could have
canceled the order with a phone call

and made the delivery that
he was expecting yourself.

Mrs. Fletcher,

that's pure conjecture.

Yes, it's only a theory, but I suspect

that you already had the
cooler prepared and hidden

somewhere down on the ground floor.

So, when Mr. Biddle went to make
one of his frequent phone calls,

you headed for the elevator.

You probably had your disguise
hidden inside the cooler.

And seconds later, you got
out at the penthouse suite,

dressed as the deliveryman.

You have great fantasies.
You should be in advertising.

The guard had only been
on the job a short time.

You'd always been careful to
leave before he came on duty,

so he wouldn't recognize you
even in your disguise.

You even made sure that he
was discharged the next day

just to be sure.

So that's your little game, is it?

You kept me cooling my heels
out there in the hallway,

hoping that that security
guard would recognize me.

Well, it didn't work,
Lieutenant.

That guard wouldn't know me from Adam.
He's never seen me before in his life.

You've got nothing.
Guard?

How did you know that that man sitting out
there was the security guard, Mr. Thornton?

Hey, that's right!

He wasn't in uniform.

How did you know he was
the security guard?

You're trying to trick me.

I'm afraid the
only way you'd know that

would be if you'd seen him in uniform the
night that you murdered Mr. Kinkaid.

You think you've got it all
planned, every little detail,

and then you get suckered
by one little mistake.

He cheated me.

He humiliated me.

I sat in my office for months,

trying to figure out how to get him.

And it-- it seemed like...

a perfect plan.

He did not even look up.

That arrogant, pompous phony.

I wanted him to know that it was me.

And, you know, killing
him with the award...

that wasn't improvisation...

that was part of the plan.

Nice touch, don't you think?