Original subtitles

That's right, Jack. No toilet washing at halftime during the Super Bowl.

Makes the water rise and the tide carries the

49ers to victory over the dreaded Bengals.

Yeah, just another lonely night when the moon is full.

The trance channelers from San Rafael are saying that Mercury is in retrograde and

according to Nostradamus, the world as we know it was supposed to end yesterday.

Feeling lucky?

Okay, now I just bet my producer that it is going to be one of those nights,

so San Francisco, don't fail me now. I got twin sawbucks riding on this.

All right, we're going to go to, oh, let's see.

Let's try Clara from Hillsboro. Talk to me.

I'd like to talk to you about protection, Mr. Killian.

From what, Clara? Declining property values or the next market crash?

From the libertine sex offenders lurking in

every shadow and stalking every street and alley.

In Hillsboro, Clara? I thought the only criminals that you allow

across the city line were the brokers on Montgomery Street.

On the contrary, Mr. Killian. You'll find them here wearing studded leather collars.

It's gotten so I can't take De Margo out for our

evening constitutional without being accosted.

By whom, Clara?

By every flea-bitten, mange-ridden mutt in San Mateo County.

Who is De Margo, Clara?

My beloved Corgi bitch.

Oh, your dog?

Kiss it goodbye, Billy. Kiss it goodbye.

Who is this?

I know what you did, Mr. DeRose. And you know what you did.

Who the hell is this?

Somehow, someway, Mr. DeRose. Everyone else will know, too. Don't be a stranger.

Who is this dammit? Who is it?

I know what you did, Mr. DeRose. And you know what you did.

Who am I, though?

Yeah, because I have to know.

No.

Annie, come on. Stop.

Yeah, just.

You're getting too much somewhere else.

Annie, don't.

Can't rise to the occasion anymore.

Oh,

Jesus.

Oh.

Just get as many good shots as you can. I don't know what's happening.

Good morning. Good morning, Lieutenant Zymack.

I'll be the judge of that brief.

Oh, then what urban tragedy do we owe your good humor this morning?

Murder. Caucasian female, 18 to 22.

ID?

You don't mind if we notify the family first, do you?

How'd she die?

Unnatural causes.

Details?

You're gonna have to get them from the coroner, Bridges.

Oh, look, come on, Lieutenant. You gotta give me something.

It's been a long, lousy night. I'm at the end of my shift. Come on, Lieutenant.

She was beaten pretty badly. She's got bruises

on her neck. That's all I can give you.

Any theories, ideas, speculation?

Yeah, one.

What?

Sometime between dark and dawn, this girl here

got very old.

I thought you said she was between 18 and 22.

She's dead, Bridges. You don't get any older than that.

Uh, sorry I'm late. Not my time of day.

Hi, Jack.

Hi.

You know my father, Melvin?

Yeah, yeah. How you doing?

How are you? Good to see you again.

You too.

And this is Stanton DeRose. He's the editor and publisher of the Dispatch.

Hi, how you doing?

How do you do? Welcome. Please, sit down.

Sure.

Make yourself comfortable.

I asked Mel and Devin to invite you here this morning, Jack, because I figured

turnabout was fair play.

How's that?

Well, you keep me up late, so I thought I'd just go ahead and get you up early.

Like Joe Kennedy always said, don't get mad, get even.

Melvin King has two heroes, Jack.

One of them is Joe Kennedy, and the other one is George Washington.

George Washington?

Mm-hmm.

See, George Washington's picture is on every quarter,

and when your business is laundromats, you get kind of fond of quarters, right there?

That's right, kid.

It's one thing Stan and I have in common.

It's when you publish a newspaper, you come to appreciate the value of a quarter too.

But we did not ask you over here, Jack, to talk about pocket change.

You have become quite a celebrity in this town.

So what I would like to do, and I've already cleared this with Devin here, is

I'd like to offer you some serious folding

money to write a weekly column for the dispatch.

Well, I'm flattered, Mr. DeRose,

but there's a few English teachers I know that would swear to you

I couldn't write a sentence to save my life.

Don't worry about that, Jack.

Neither can most of the reporters I employ.

You're absolutely certain, Miss Tell, they left Churchill's together?

Yes.

It was about 1.30.

Thank you, Miss Tell.

You've been very helpful.

Excuse me for a minute.

I'll get someone to drive you home.

Lieutenant, Annie really liked Justin.

Why would he do something like that to her?

I don't know, Miss Tell.

First we'll find out if, then we'll find out why.

Well, thanks, Chief.

I appreciate your concern.

Dammit.

Mr. Burke, please.

Oh, Ellsworth, I didn't recognize your voice.

Listen, Justin's just been brought in for

questioning on the murder of that Starger girl.

How the hell should I know, Ellsworth?

You're the damn lawyer.

You find out.

District Station C.

Just get your ass down there and get his ass out of there.

That's right.

That's right.

You keep him away from the cameras.

I'll keep him out of the paper.

And Ellsworth, Ellsworth, don't screw this up.

This is not some business deal we're talking about here.

This is my son.

Are you serious?

You're lying.

You're sure?

You're absolutely certain?

Okay, good.

Okay, thanks.

Thanks, Ed.

Hey, look, don't worry.

Not a soul.

Not a single living organism, huh?

Scout's honor.

Okay, bye.

Uh, excuse me, Chief.

I need to talk to you pronto.

What is it?

We can't talk here.

Why?

I got a live one, Chief.

I got a live one.

It's about a dead girl.

Okay.

In my office, Bridges.

This better be good.

Chief, you'll never believe who's being questioned

in connection with the murder of Ann Starger.

Don't tell me.

Patty Hearst.

No, but you're close.

Oh, that is beautiful.

They see the name DeRose on a booking sheet

and the DA's office is running scared.

Yeah.

But it doesn't make any sense, Jack.

These guys, they live for their conviction rate.

That's all they talk about when they run for election.

We're offering them a slam dunk sure thing

on a high rent strangulation

and they won't even file charges.

And we got this guy nailed.

That's good, Gerard.

I got this one.

There you go.

How nailed?

There are three witnesses that put them together

leaving the saloon at Churchill's

five hours before the body is discovered.

His alibi is,

went back to the apartment

after walking around the block together.

But his roommate's out of town, of course,

and nobody else saw him.

He got footprints that match his in the park.

And he's got scratches on his hands and his face.

We're not made by a house cat.

So?

So the DA says it's not enough.

And he wants you to go back and look at the evidence

with a fresh eye, right?

Follow new leads.

Precisely.

Keep an open mind.

Exactly.

Who is it?

New guy.

Crane.

New guy.

Same old crap.

Yeah, only this time it's different.

Tell me something, Jackie.

Next time the dead girl's family calls up,

what do I tell them?

How do I explain that?

Maybe I can.

Five, four, three, two...

Bingo!

It's midnight hour and this is Jack Killian, the Nighthawk.

A couple of nights ago,

just about this time,

a young girl,

19 years old by the name of Ann Starger,

was having a beer and celebrating her youth

in a saloon on Union Street.

And when you're 19,

life is just a series of possibilities.

You're in that time between adolescence and adulthood

when you really don't believe that anything bad

is going to happen.

Except something bad did happen to Ann Starger.

After drinking that last beer,

she left the bar with a young man that she knew and liked.

And a few hours later,

a morning jogger found her bruised and battered body in a park.

Now, it didn't take the police department long

to reconstruct the last few hours of her life.

And by day's end, there was a suspect.

Now, I tell you this only because

my guess is that your morning newspaper will not.

Because you see,

the suspect is young Justin DeRose

and his daddy is Stanton DeRose,

the publisher of your morning newspaper.

And a man, I suspect, that likes to

hang everybody's dirty laundry out but his own.

Which is why, I guess,

you will also not read that the district attorney

has rejected the police department's recommendation

to file murder charges against Justin DeRose.

Now, I heard this story from a cop I know.

A good cop.

And he asked me an interesting question.

Would the same thing have happened

if Justin DeRose was a guy named Willie Anderson

who drove a bus or a jackhammer?

Now, I'm not saying that young DeRose is guilty.

I don't know whether he is or he isn't.

All I'm saying is that justice is supposed to be blind.

And her scales are not supposed to weigh

how much money or power you have.

This is Jack Killian, your host on KJCM Radio 98.3 FM.

And we're going to be right back.

Are your car insurance rates...

Hi.

You'll never guess who called my father at 12.07 this morning.

Ed McMahon.

He's a big winner in the sweepstakes.

Stanton DeRose.

Oh.

Did he lose his laundry again?

No.

He was listening to you.

Nothing like a loyal fan.

Well, that's not exactly what my father said

when he called me at 3.01 this morning.

See, he couldn't sleep after Stanton called him.

So he stayed up and listened to your show too.

Apparently, Stanton DeRose would like you off the air.

Out of town and strung up by your...

Does that mean that he doesn't want me

to write for the paper anymore?

That means he doesn't even want you

to read the paper anymore, Jack.

You know, my father couldn't quite figure out

what you're up to either.

I'm doing what I always do.

Is that a problem for you?

No.

No, it's not a problem for me.

I just think I'm getting squeezed, Jack,

and I don't like it.

By who?

By whom.

It's a prepositional phrase.

Okay, by whom?

Don't play dumb with me, Jack.

It's really not very becoming.

All right.

But, so what?

Mr. DeRose getting to you too?

No, Mr. DeRose is not getting to me.

I defended you, Jack.

It's just that when you run your own business,

you learn a few things.

The first of which is,

if you're going to make a mistake,

you err on the side of caution.

You're saying I'm wrong?

No, I'm not saying you're wrong.

Look, I don't care if you cross Stanton DeRose.

I kind of enjoy it.

I just want you to be careful, Jack.

Make sure you're right.

Hey, Dink.

A sordid ballad of booze-blowing boys.

The diary kept by murdered debutante Annie Starger.

A tale of life in the fast lane,

bright lights in the big city.

Where'd they get this crap?

Yeah, I couldn't believe it neither.

I thought she was a nice kid until I read that.

Get early, huh, Deacon?

Yeah.

What is this?

Excuse me?

Dead Deb's dirty diary?

You killed my story and ran this crap?

What in the hell is going on here?

Journalism?

Not in any recognizable form.

What do you consider recognizable?

What about my story?

The one in which you said Justin DeRose

was the principal suspect in the Starger murder investigation?

Yeah, the one you killed.

That was real good journalism, Bridges.

It's too bad we didn't run it because it would have made history.

We would have been the first newspaper ever

sued for libel by its own publisher.

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

That is a bunch of bull.

Because I wrote DeRose was released without being charged

pending further investigation.

And if you want to worry about libel,

you better worry about this garbage you printed on the Starger girl.

You should know better than that, Bridges.

Yeah? How?

Dead people have no constitutional rights, Bridges.

You can't libel a dead person.

I mean, the dispatch pays you a nice salary.

Don't you think you're being disloyal?

No, not at all.

I love my paper.

I spend a lot more time with it than I spend with my wife.

Yeah, okay.

I love it enough to tell it I think it's wrong.

And you are convinced now that it is wrong?

Absolutely.

I mean, with stories like this, they're putting Ann Starger on trial for what?

All she ever did was make the mistake of getting killed.

And now she can't even respond.

Okay, thank you, Johnny, for the call.

We go now to Alex.

You're on the air.

Jack, I was a friend of Ann Starger's and I just want you to know

I appreciate what you and Mr. Bridges are doing.

We're just doing what's right, Alex.

I want the people to know that Ann was a wonderful friend and a good person.

She's an honor student.

Well, she's lucky to have a friend like you right now.

The funny thing is she wanted to be a

newspaper reporter or on TV like Jane Pauly.

But after this, I don't know what she'd think.

I mean, haven't these poor people been through enough already?

That's all I want to say.

Okay, thanks, Alex.

And I meant when I said everybody should be

lucky enough to have a friend like you.

We're going to be right back after these messages.

It has always been part of the American spirit.

Devon called.

She wants to see both of us in her office at noon.

I'm not threatening you.

Well, what are you doing?

You're telling me that Stanton DeRose is a rich and powerful man.

Gee, I never would have known that.

It's not just that he plays golf with these guys.

The mayor, the supervisors, the district attorney.

Half the guys in Sacramento and Washington too, Dev.

He gets them their jobs.

He owns them.

Does he own you?

No, he doesn't.

Well, he doesn't own me either.

Hey, excuse me.

Let me see that.

What's that?

I'm sorry, Deacon.

But I've been instructed to prohibit you from entering the building.

So what does that mean?

It means that I want you to keep surprising me, Jack.

Your strength is your unpredictability.

Don't go away from your strength.

So no more shows on the Stargardt murder.

I didn't say that, Billy.

It's just that we've already covered that ground.

Look, if you want to say anything more about the case, then fine, go ahead.

I'm just saying make sure that it's something new.

You know what is so great about you is that when

you put the squeeze on, you can't even feel it.

Now, we are both reasonable men, Mr. Killian.

That why you tried to get me fired?

The heat of battle.

Yeah, I know.

War is hell.

Now, in the interest of fairness,

if I were to introduce you to a witness whose

testimony could prove Justin's innocence,

would you put him on the air?

An equal time thing?

Yeah.

Good.

Now, let me ask you a question.

Go ahead.

Will you stop running those putrid stories on a dead girl's private life?

About much as I'd like to do that, Mr. Killian, I'm afraid I can't.

You see, those stories are news, and I can't interfere with the news.

Ah, news.

Yeah.

Going to Annie's funeral tomorrow?

Come on, man.

I mean, I just don't think it'd be right.

I hardly knew her.

It's not like we were friends or anything.

Oh, yeah.

I guess I didn't realize it.

And you are certain that it was Justin DeRose?

Oh, absolutely.

Okay, we're gonna go to the folder.

I hose down the sidewalk in front of the building

every morning at 2.15 a.m. without fail.

I found that's a good time to hose.

Not too many pedestrians.

But on this one night in question,

this fella, a big good-looking fella,

comes walking right into my spray.

I usually turn it away in time, but I guess I wasn't paying attention.

Anyway, I apologized, and he stopped.

And he couldn't have been nicer about it, if you know what I mean.

And I got a good look at him.

And that's how I know it was Justin DeRose.

Okay.

We're gonna go to the phones, take some calls.

Levon, you're on the air.

Jack, you don't have to worry about Justin DeRose hurting anybody again.

Why's that?

He's with me now, Jack.

And I'm gonna make sure he's a good boy from now on.

Don't be a stranger.

Levon.

Levon, are you there?

What you should do, Lieutenant, is arrest that damn Killian.

He's the one responsible for all of this.

You may not care for him, Mr. DeRose,

but he's the best chance you have of finding his son.

As an attorney, Lieutenant Zymak,

I am skeptical that a radio personality

will do a more effective job solving a kidnapping

than the San Francisco Police Department

or the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Perhaps, Mr. Burke.

But right now, we have no ransom note.

We have no calls or communications with Mr. DeRose.

We have no demands or threats or deadlines.

We don't even know that the call from the kidnapper was legitimate.

It could all be somebody's idea of an elaborately funny practical joke.

The fact is, fellas, the only reason we have to believe

that Justin actually was kidnapped

is that phone call to Jack Killian last night.

Is that what the FBI believes, Mr. Dunstan?

Yep.

You don't really believe that.

I didn't say I believed it, Carl. I said it's possible.

Okay, let's make that assumption.

Let's say the doorman is a good alibi witness.

Let's say the kid didn't kill the girl.

Yeah.

Tell me something. Who did?

And why did this Levon, whoever he is...

Whomever. Whomever.

I'm on a radio.

I am heavily into the proper use of the English language.

Yeah, right. Whomever.

Why did this Levon, whomever he is,

kidnap Justin DeRose?

I don't know.

Carl, I guess that's why we got to get the kid back.

Satisfy our curiosity.

Is that you or me?

That's you.

I figured.

Chief!

You wanted to see me?

Let's take a walk.

You've been wired so far.

What do you know about the DeRose kidnapping?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Zip. Nada. Zero.

Unless you want to give me a gold star

for knowing that someone called Killian on the radio last night.

What are the police saying?

No leads. No clues.

No intuition.

Yeah, what about the FBI?

Kidnapping is federal.

Yeah, but because of the Killian angle,

the Bureau is deferring to the San Francisco PD.

That's what I'm saying.

No jurisdictional disputes,

which means no ticked off cops,

which means no good leaks,

which makes it real tough on a working stiff like me.

I mean, I'm still a working stiff, aren't I?

Give me some time. I'm handling it.

Thanks, Chief. You won't regret it.

Why is it that every time I look at my watch,

the second hand seems to be moving slower?

I wish we could just go on the air right now.

Why does that remind me of the waiting room at the maternity ward?

Or the White House war room during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Or the floor of the stock exchanges

before the unemployment figures are released.

Yeah, yeah, or down at the station house

on the day when they post the sergeant's exams.

Total bummer.

Would you guys cut it out?

If you calm down.

Deal?

Calm down?

What is it with you guys?

Things are moving along just fine.

Ratings are up.

Interest is high.

Sponsors are just lining up to buy time.

And then one of these things has to happen.

What things?

One of these things.

They keep happening to you, Jack.

I thought that's what we liked about this.

These things.

This unpredictability.

This living out on the edge of the seven second delay.

Yeah.

That's right.

It just works much better when one can control the unpredictability.

Come in.

How do you control unpredictability?

It's almost midnight.

Are you guys ready?

Yeah.

I'm Billy Poe, Mr. Duros.

Jack's producer.

I'm sorry we didn't meet under more pleasant circumstances.

You should be.

Jack, Billy, come on.

You guys know the drill.

Follow me.

Jack?

My name is Levon Tostig.

I want to ask you some questions about the death of Anne Starger.

First, I want to warn you of your rights.

You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer any questions.

Do you understand that?

Anything you say may be used in court.

Do you understand that?

You have a right to consult an attorney.

Do you want to consult an attorney?

Well, now that I have advised you of your rights,

are you willing to answer the questions

and tell me the truth about what happened that night?

They're crazy, man.

So, you just kind of walked in and, uh, found them there.

Is that what you're saying, Ralphie?

In my bed.

Yeah, in your bed.

In flagrante delicto as well.

Hey, I didn't use no bad words.

That means red-handed.

How much longer do I have to listen to this crap?

Not only were they in there.

Thirteen more minutes, then we're off the air.

Okay, Ralphie.

Yeah, we get the picture.

All right.

It is now 2.47 here in Parasonic Pacific,

and you're on the air with the Nighthawk.

Hi, Jack.

It's Levon.

If you want to see Justin Derose alive again...

Yeah, that's him.

There's a way you and only you can arrange that.

How's that, Levon?

In 48 hours, you go on the air

and you tell the story of Laura Twain on your radio show.

Who's Laura Twain?

Levon, let me talk to Justin just to make sure he's all right.

He's indisposed, Jack.

You know, you're awful good at this, Levon.

How'd you learn to do it so well?

Went away, Jack.

Did some post-graduate work.

Oh, yeah?

Where was that?

At Quentin or Folsom?

Sorry, Jack.

Gotta go.

I don't want you to trace this call.

You keep in touch.

Hi, this is Gail.

Jesus.

Is this how you people operate?

You.

You actually think that listening to a radio program is going to solve kidnapping.

Now, please calm down.

This isn't going to help the situation.

And you, you son of a bitch.

Your lies and accusations are responsible for this whole damn mess.

Now, wait a minute.

It is not necessary to abuse anybody.

And you, little girl, have a good mind to sue you.

Somebody's got to teach you that this is not

some damn little toy you're playing with here.

Listen, you may be able to push people around at your newspaper,

but this is my radio station.

So you can just get the hell out of here right now.

48 hours.

And you all better damn well hope I get my son back alive.

Deacon, you have to understand.

You're bad news around here, man.

Big persona non grata.

Listen here.

I'll grata all over your persona if you don't help me.

The name is Twain.

T-W-A-I-N.

Like Mark.

First name, Laura.

Twain here.

And I want you to look in every file, in

every box, under every pile you got back there

and get me some clips and a picture.

I'm calling back in 15 minutes.

I'm calling back.

I'm calling back, man.

Yeah.

Persona non grata.

You don't know who you're messing with.

So where's Carmen?

Casablanca.

Why'd she go there?

For the waters.

The waters?

Casablanca's a desert.

Yeah.

She was misinformed.

Jack.

I'll have something for you in the morning.

You sure you want to do this now?

Well, it's my story, Jack.

I'm not about to just walk away from it.

All right.

Hey, where's Carmen?

Bitch ain't ever here.

Well, Justin, you were still alive 12 hours ago.

Kissed me.

She bit me on the lip really hard.

Then what happened?

I grabbed her by the hair and I slapped her.

Yeah.

She came back at me.

She hit me.

She scratched my face.

And?

And I hit her.

Once.

She fell back out of the tree and I got scared.

And I thought I saw somebody.

So I ran away.

You mean you didn't even check to see if she was all right?

I was scared.

I ran away.

Justin.

Justin.

Did you kill Ann Starger?

No.

Yes.

What?

What'd you say?

Yes.

I guess so.

Something's wrong.

Oh, yeah.

Justin DeRose thinks that he smacked Ann Starger around and killed her.

Yeah?

You told me she was strangled.

Bingo.

Bingo was right.

Man, where you been? It's freezing out here, it's late.

It's early for me, man.

What do you got?

It's Laura Twain.

She was a jumper off the Golden Gate.

Suicide?

19 years old.

They found her purse and her shoes on the bridge, but no one ever claimed her body.

Who gave you all this stuff?

Sources.

You haven't even seen the best part yet.

It's her last known address.

Knob Hill?

Knob Hill.

Yes?

Hey, you're the fella from the television.

Radio.

Yeah, sure.

Um, what's your name?

Killian.

Jack Killian.

Yeah, right.

Yeah, I know.

Uh, Miss Boyle, I was wondering if you-

Erica.

If you knew this woman, Laura Twain, she, uh, she used to live next door?

No, I don't think so.

Um, how long ago?

What?

How long ago did she live here?

Up until eight, nine months ago.

Oh, I've only been here 11 weeks.

After the divorce, you know.

Oh, I know.

But the folks who used to live here, they may know her.

I still have their address inside.

I'll get it for you.

Okay, great.

Yeah, that's it.

And all of a sudden, one day, she was gone.

Nothing else?

Uh, one thing.

For a while, she had a roommate, uh, oriental girl.

Real good looking, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, that girl disappeared a while

before, Laura, and I haven't seen her since.

But a few weeks ago, I was down in the

tenderloin, seeing the sights that get my drift.

I thought I saw that oriental girl.

That it?

Yeah.

Okay.

But she didn't look so good.

Like she used to.

Think about it, Jack.

Getting a little kid stuck down a drainpipe,

that'd be one hell of a way to make a big name for yourself.

Yeah, right.

You're on the air.

It's 247 again, Jack.

I'm a dependable fellow.

Hope you are too, because tomorrow night, I want to hear the story of Laura Twain.

I'll keep my side of the bargain, Levon.

You just keep yours.

By the way, let me ask you something.

Sure, Jack, make it snappy.

Why did you come to me?

Instead of who?

I don't know.

The cops, for instance?

I paid a hard time, Jack.

You think they're gonna listen to an ex-con?

Speaking of time, remember, the clock's ticking.

Well, son, if everything goes your way,

24 hours from now, you'll be a free man in Paris.

Unfettered and alive.

Jimmy!

How are you?

Long time, Killian.

Yeah, I like it that way.

I listen to your show.

It, uh, passes the time.

Really?

Everybody's a critic.

I want to show you something.

Do you recognize her?

I hear she's no Greg Louganis.

What else you hear?

Nothing.

She wasn't my type.

I hear she's got a roommate, an Asian.

She might be your type, huh?

Oh, you still get good information.

Yeah, I'm amazing.

You know anything about the roommate?

Her name's Maureen Nakao.

She's not feeling too well these days.

In the letter, she said I should use the key if anything happened to her.

Yeah.

So a couple weeks later, I heard she's not much of a swimmer.

I went down to the bus stop when I opened the lock.

What'd you find?

Five hundred dollars.

I thought it was real nice of her to think of me like that, don't you?

Yeah, terrific.

Anything else?

Anything else what?

Anything else in the locker?

Yeah, a videotape.

Of what?

I don't know.

You didn't watch it?

Check this place out, man.

It ain't exactly the Sears showroom.

Where was I supposed to watch it?

You weren't curious?

I don't watch movies, man.

It ain't exactly a productive way to spend time.

But if you're so curious, you can watch it.

Still got it here somewhere.

Sit down, Mr. DeRose.

Make yourself comfortable.

Okay, let's sit this down.

Man, it is showtime.

You have been a very bad girl, Laura.

Now promise Daddy you'll behave yourself in the future.

I promise.

You come here and apologize.

I'm sorry.

That's good.

Well, I must say, Mr. DeRose, very healthy, very healthy indeed.

High heels, riding crap, little gender reversal there.

Very nice, real nice, real upstanding behavior.

Where'd you get this?

You know what the ironic thing is?

You did it to yourself.

If you didn't throw your clout around or interfere with a police investigation

or the way your newspaper covers the news,

no one would ever find out about this.

This is outrageous.

And there you get yourself a real biblical dilemma.

It's you or your son.

Now, you want to tell me what happened to Laura Twain?

Or are you going to let that lunatic kill Justin, who, by the way, is innocent?

Yeah, right.

I know.

This is some jackpot you've gotten yourself into.

I've never heard of anything like it either.

To count, Laura Twain was beautiful and gifted.

She was 18 years old when she moved here from a small Idaho town to study art.

And one day at the Young Museum, she met a man.

Better tell it right, Jack.

Now, she had never met anyone quite like him before.

He was educated, erudite, and he exposed her to thoughts and nuances in the artwork,

which she never dreamed possible.

He was more than twice as old as she was.

As a matter of fact, he had a son her age, but that seemed unimportant to Laura.

And it didn't seem to matter too much to him either.

Got a hunch.

I'm going down to the police station.

With this man, dreams became a reality for Laura Twain.

At first, he provided her a stipend so that she could quit her job as a waitress

and concentrate full-time on her studies.

Then he gave her the apartment on Knox Hill.

Laura Twain was in love, and she thought that he was too.

They had long, languorous Sunday afternoons together

in front of the fireplace in her apartment.

They took strolls in the park.

They lost days in the museum.

Then all it cost her was some kinky sex.

Now, he taught her everything she needed to know,

which was how to give him what he couldn't get at home.

Nothing too original.

Handcuffs, whips, bondage, home video as usual, S&M trade.

She tolerated it because she loved him.

And because she believed him when he told her that someday there would be more.

She was 19 years old when they started to talk about getting married.

And at first, the talk was sweet and dreamy and ethereal.

There was innocence about the talk, youthfulness.

But as time wore on, nothing happened.

Nothing changed.

And whenever Laura Twain wanted to talk about marriage,

he grew sullen and uncommunicative.

Because he was married, he had a fortune.

Millions upon millions of dollars and power untold.

Divorce would have been costly and it would have sullied his reputation.

And he didn't want to give up any of it.

Finally, Laura Twain gave him an ultimatum.

Maybe it was blackmail.

Maybe it was desperation.

We'll never know.

They met down at the Presidio to take a walk and talk it over.

And that is when Stanton DeRose killed Laura Twain and dumped her body in the bay.

Then he put her shoes and her purse on the bridge.

So that when the police found her, they would

assume that she was just another jumper.

I heard everything on the radio.

Is it true?

My name's Levon Tostig.

Laura Twain was my sister.

She changed her name when she moved here to go to school.

Here's Justin DeRose.

He's not done anything wrong.

He's not been hurt.

I know I was there.

I strangled Ann Starger.

Why?

Rage.

Vengeance.

Justice.

You decide.

This is Jack Killian, your host on KJCM Radio 98.3 FM.

And goodnight America, wherever you are.