Original subtitles

Unless you pay what you owe me, I'm taking you to court.

It's gonna take some pretty fancy footwork to tap dance around those two.

I'm damned if I do, and I'm damned if I don't. Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Have you thought of hiring a private investigator?

Who would I hire?

Harry McGraw? Never heard of him. There's an accident at the track.

Harry, how would you like to slip into something just a little more

comfortable? A horse?

Your surprise witness is a horse? He's quite sensitive, you know.

Ladies and gentlemen, a spectacular afternoon of thoroughbred racing

continues now with our feature race.

It's a $100,000 added stakes race.

The call is riders up and the horses and jockeys are coming on to the racetrack

for our feature race.

There's a field of eight.

Scratch number nine, Don Dio.

Uh,

200 on Big Palooka, please.

I'm sorry, that's number three twice.

race day madness strikes again canny new england lady transformed into hyrule oh

no anything over two dollars and the butterflies in my stomach turn into

hummingbirds this is for my friend harry mcgraw back in boston oh wait till the

supermarket rags break this scandal jb fletcher moonlight is booking

Jessica, you're in for Todd, my fiancé? Yes, of course, Todd. How are you? Hi,

Jessica.

The bravest man in Kentucky.

The bravest man in Kentucky? Oh, my.

The only trainer at the track to defy that old boy network and hire a woman

vet. Well, the real reason I hired her was so I could see how she looked in 4 a

.m. emergencies before I popped the question. I see.

And have you set the wedding date?

Uh, sure.

The day after we get our respective fathers to stop feuding with each other.

Well, then we'd better lope. The only way those two want to bury the hatchet

is in each other.

Would you like to join us? I'd love to.

Hi,

honey. Lot of luck.

Yeah.

Have a nice day.

Yeah, the same to you, honey.

What?

What?

Oh,

really?

Oh.

Oh, I really am sorry to hear that.

Hey, what, Miss Emmeline?

Big Palooka.

He just said he has this monstrous headache.

He didn't happen to slip you the winner, did he?

Lamar Morgan.

That's complete nonsense.

Forces can't predict the future. Did you just say Lamar Morgan?

Hello. Hi.

Are you the Lamar Morgan of Morgan Hill Farm?

Why, yes. What can I do for you, young lady? I have something for you. Oh?

Y'all have a nice day now, you hear?

What's wrong, Lamar?

Randolph Sterling.

But, Randolph, honey, sailing the South Seas would be just about the most

romantic cruise ever.

Todd can manage the fun. I can't spare the time, Althea.

It'll just be for a few weeks. And after that, all the cruises are booked solid.

The only thing I want booked solid is King Paragon.

When a horse costs me six million dollars, nobody handles the breeding.

But me. I swear, I do not understand your fascination with arranging sexual

liaisons for horses.

Just keep in mind, my dear, it's those liaisons that buy the beautiful baubles

that put that sparkle in your eyes.

Daddy! There you are, Diana.

Wonderful news.

King Paragon's coming out party. I just managed to wangle an introduction to

some very wealthy Japanese.

Althea, make sure Eddie orders in some sake.

Diana, how sweet.

You promoted me to your daddy's caterer.

Here comes your brother and his sweet little friend, the horse doctor.

My, don't they make a handsome couple, though.

Tots so good-looking and Christy so full of life and just exuding all that

virginal purity.

What would you know about that?

Jessica, you remember the Squire Sterling Studd, my father Randolph? Oh,

yes, of course. How nice to see you. The pleasure is mine.

It's been far too long, Jessica. Thank you.

My dear friend, Althea Mayberry, my daughter Diane.

Hello. My goodness, you know, the last time I was here, it must have been ten

years ago, and you were away at university somewhere.

Cambridge, before they threw me out.

Luckily, I had a bridegroom waiting in the wings. Yes, I remember reading about

your wedding in the newspapers.

You were married to an earl? Lord, Lord Snowcroft.

After a few years, I threw him out.

Hurley, I want to work with you.

Just what in the hell does that mean? It means, Lamar, that unless you pay what

you owe me, I'm taking you to court. I know you're a damn sin and you know it.

You have two foals in your place hired by King Paragon.

Fees and punitive damages should come to about half a million, give or take a

dollar or two.

There's got to be a way to work this out.

Sure, you can write me a check.

For what?

I didn't ask my mares to be bred by King Paragon. No.

Somebody arranged a conjugal meeting in the dead of night.

Well, a shoe in hell wasn't me.

That old friend remains to be seen. I am not spoiling my day, Jessica.

See you in court, Lamar. Come along, ladies.

I'll tell you, it was quite a shock coming out that morning to find King

Paragon with Daddy's mares.

Lord knows how he got here.

But if the Stirling stud is right next door, isn't it possible that King

Paragon just jumped the fence?

No, no. He's always locked in the stall at night.

But I can't understand why nobody saw it. There were no witnesses, stable

hands, watchmen, somebody.

If anybody saw, they're not talking.

And our local police haven't been much help, that's for sure. Have you thought

of hiring a private investigator?

Who would I hire?

Oh, they are beautiful.

But my goodness, a half a million dollars is a high price to pay for

siring a couple of fools.

Not when you remember that King Paragon won both the English Derby and the

French Grand Prix.

Oh, but half a million is way more than Pops could pay, even if he wanted to.

We've had a couple lean years.

What if he loses the suit?

And he loses the falls.

And probably the phone.

You know, Christy, I have an idea.

Maybe this calls for an out-of-town investigator who isn't easily

intimidated and who has an abiding passion for horses.

Breathing? Betting.

Horizontal two-step.

Coming around the far turn, it's Elmo's Flyer. Then Bob and Dobbin and

horizontal two-step with titillating Tilly coming up on the outside.

Go for it, baby!

Yeah.

Harry McGraw? Never heard of him.

Sorry, it's Jessica.

Oh, hiya, Jessica. How you doing? And thanks for placing that bet for me.

Harry, I'm sorry your horse lost.

Yeah, well, that's why they call him Big Palooka. So what's up?

Well, if you want to recoup, I have a job for you.

Well, I'm not in the market for a job right now. See, the thing is, I got 500

bucks on the nose on a sure thing. at Suffolk Downs, and this is straight from

the horse's mouth.

Uh, hang on, Jessica. I just got another call.

Come on, baby. I love you. I love you. Go for it. Go, Tilly.

Hang in there. What are you doing? Running backwards?

So, Jessica, that job, what is it and when do I start?

Well, gee, Randolph, you know how much I'd like to oblige. I said no

postponements, Harley.

You hear?

But they've got to have time to prepare their defense.

I want that case on your calendar now.

And try to remember which side your ballot is buttered on.

Why, sure, Randolph.

How the hell with that, Martha Jane? Give me a straight shot.

There's an afternoon session in ten minutes.

Add some mint. Let's call it a julep. It's going to take some pretty fancy

footwork to tap dance around those two.

Randolph Sterling may have political clout, but Lamar Morgan is one of the

most beloved men in this county. You know, Martha Jane, I've been feeling

real poorly lately.

Doc says I ought to take some time off, maybe relax, go fly fishing.

Or get impeached.

Very nice.

You're going to take the enemy camp by storm. Thank you. If Harry ever gets

here, maybe I shouldn't have wired him the money for the fare while the track

was still open.

Look, I realize that this family squabble is very hard on you and Todd,

but things are beginning to look up. Look at all these people who are

shopping for horses.

Maybe that's him.

Miss Morgan, Harlan McGraw III of Boston, Massachusetts.

How do you do?

Better now that you're here, Mr. McGraw. Please come in.

Hiya, Jessica.

You ready to roll?

Harry, you really look... Well, words fail me.

What she means is she's surprised that I'd have threads this sharp in my

closet. The fact is I borrowed them from a friend who owes me a favor.

That was very nice of him.

It certainly was.

Did he know about it?

Well, the fact is he's out of town, which is why I'd like to get these duds

back to Boston by Friday, which is when he comes back from Vegas.

Well, Friday, that's not very long.

What, digging up a couple of witnesses?

Piece of cake.

Shall we, Miss Scarlet?

A pleasure, Mr. Rapp.

Have a nice time.

Thanks.

Holly, I was just talking to the boys about a fundraiser for your re-election.

That's mighty nice of you, and I do appreciate that very much. And if

anything untoward should happen in my suit against Lamar Morgan, it could pay

for your retirement party, hmm?

Oh, hey.

How about one of those filled up with ginger ale, huh? And try to make it a

good year.

You appear to be a stranger.

I'm partial to strangers.

Hey, whatever turns you on.

I'm a friend of the host.

Oh, that's quite a coincidence.

I'm a friend of one of the guests.

I'd go easy on the bubbles if I were you. It ages the skin, darling.

And while we're on the subject...

You could use a touch-up.

Thank you, Lady Chatterley.

Lady who?

Diana is a lady by marriage only.

Excuse me.

Oh, thanks.

Hello, Harry.

You know Todd? This is his father.

Randolph Sterling, Mr. McGraw. The Randolph Sterling? The guy who owned

Randolph's Rebel?

The same.

Hey, whatever happened to that nag?

He's still standing at stud.

First time I saw him, he was left standing at the gate. It was the 6th at

Rockingham, July 9th, 10 years ago.

Six furlongs. He had the rail, broke last, but still managed to finish fourth

at 16 to 1 in 1.12 and a fifth.

Got quite a memory.

I never forget the ones I lose a bundle on.

Yes, Harry is thinking of investing in racing stock instead of tickets.

I'm surprised you haven't steered him to your friend Lamar Morgan.

Hey, when it comes to horses, you gotta go for the class.

And I hear you got the classiest stud in Kentucky.

How about a gander at him, huh, Randy?

I think that's a wonderful idea.

Where is King Paragon, Randolph?

Ladies and gentlemen, the guest of honor,

King Paragon!

The name says it all. You all know his breeding and his race record.

You also know how rare it is to get in on the ground floor of a syndicate where

the yearly return on each share, foal, or fee is $100,000 to begin with.

And with this noble beast, the sky's the limit.

Wow. A hundred grand for just... Yes, Harry.

Just. Poor King Paragon. He's so dreadfully unhappy.

Yeah? How do you know?

He told me so.

He tell you why?

Wouldn't you be miserable if your body were used in that dreadful fashion?

An all-American champion.

Now, I'm sure that some of you are very anxious to see King Paragon's first

foals. But my foals, Sterling, are my foals, and they are in my field.

Lamar, may we discuss this later, please? No.

We're going to discuss it right here and now.

You figure you could get him in a real bind by turning King Paragon loose with

my mares.

That's very clever.

But you're not going to get away with it.

Because I'll see you dead first.

Come on, Mr. Morgan. What? Let's get some fresh air.

Fresh air.

Here you get.

Jessica.

Timberline.

Ladies.

So much for family loyalty.

Todd's not back from the track yet.

Oh, I wish he hadn't let Pops take off alone. Well, he thought that your father

was coming home. But I wouldn't worry yet, Christy. I mean, it's only half a

mile away and there aren't any reports of accidents.

And if anyone can track him down, Harry will.

Now, can I get you something? A cup of tea? Uh, no, thanks.

Hello? Good news, kid.

Your old man's safe and sound. He's swapping stories in a gin mill called

Grogan's Backstretch Tavern.

Listen. Why don't you and Jessica go put on the old feed bag, and I'll bring him

home as soon as I can pry him loose. Okay. Hey, and Harry, thanks.

Your dad's all right.

Better than he'll be tomorrow morning.

Morgan Hill.

Oh, hi, Todd.

What, honey?

Okay, I'll meet you there.

Trouble? There's an accident at the track.

Todd's been in Philly back to his farm. You know, Jessica, you, um, I hate to

leave you here alone.

If you give me a minute, I'll go change and I'll go with you. If I won't be in

the way. No, not there.

No, I don't treat all this turling stock.

Just the ones that Todd trained.

But you know the security code?

Oh, yes. In fact, Todd's father was convinced I was the one that let King

Paragon lose to get it from theirs.

Huh.

Looks like Tar's not here yet.

Those will wait inside, huh?

Jessica.

He's dead.

Well, Tyrone, near as I can make out now, he's been dead for at least a half

an hour.

I can pinpoint it better after the autopsy.

Blow to the head?

Caused by this?

Could be.

Ma'am?

Ma'am, please, don't touch anything.

Oh, I'm not touching it. Just reading.

What is it, Jessica?

Well, it's a note to Randolph Sterling from Althea Mayberry.

Randolph, I knew Diana resented the idea of any other woman becoming mistress of

Sterling Studd, but I never thought you'd allow her to usurp my role as your

hostess. Randolph, I cannot put a price on my hurt and humiliation, but I'm sure

that my attorney can.

Althea.

What is it? What happened? Diana, don't come in. Oh, my God!

He did it.

Her father.

He said he would do it, and he did it. Diana, we don't know that.

Somebody threatened to kill your daddy, ma'am? You're damn right, Sheriff.

Lamar Morgan this afternoon. You were there, Mrs. Fletcher. You heard him. Oh,

but I'm sure that Lamar didn't mean it literally, Diana.

Well, of course he didn't, Diana.

Pops couldn't kill anybody, and you know it.

I'll tell you what I know.

Your pops telephoned while I was on the way to the airport.

He said he had to talk to Daddy.

Oh, Todd, I was in such a rush, I didn't think I... I'm never gonna be able to

forgive myself. I told him that Daddy was here and he must have come here and

killed him.

Hey.

Hey. It's okay.

I'm gonna take her back to the house.

I'll get your statements later.

I can't tell you how sorry I am about all this.

Come on.

Well.

Suppose you ladies tell me what brought you visiting this time of night.

Oh, oh, my gosh. I forgot all about the filly.

Excuse me.

Todd called her about an injured horse.

And when we got here, Mr. Sterling.

What about Lamar? He at home?

No, no, he's with a friend, Mr. McGraw.

Sheriff, I'm quite sure that you noticed a couple of things.

Things?

What things?

Well, for instance, that jacket over there.

There seems to be a blood stain on the left sleeve.

Well, I mean, it doesn't seem likely that he would have been wearing it when

he was struck down.

So I suppose the question is, when did the blood get on it and how?

If it is blood.

Yes. It certainly looks different from the dark stains on his hand and on the

sleeve of his shirt.

Oh, I've seen them.

Oh, yeah.

You have to be blind not to.

Lab boys will check all that out.

Miss Fletcher, I've heard about you.

Now, poking around in police business in the big city, that may be fine.

But down here, well, we really don't appreciate a lot of civilian

interference.

Yeah. Well, I'll certainly keep that in mind.

See, the fact of the matter is...

I got me a water moccasin by the tail here.

I'm gonna be tiptoeing on eggshells just to keep my job.

Christy?

Oh,

it's Mr. Padley.

Good evening, Mrs. Fletcher. Good evening. What happened to King Paragon?

Uh, wrapped his ankle going over a fence he did.

Kicked his door down.

By the time I got here, he was out in the pasture running around with the

yearlings. Hmm.

I wonder what happened to make him do that.

Who knows?

Maybe it was that bloody awful row going on in the office.

I don't suppose you recognized any of the voices?

Not likely.

I was off on the run to get His Highness here.

By the time we got back, it was all over.

It wasn't until the sheriff's people showed up that I learned what happened.

It's a rotten shame.

Fine gentleman, Mr. Sterling was.

Oh, Christy.

Excuse me a minute.

Derek, do you want me to take an x-ray of that ankle?

He'll be all right.

Well, I've got a machine that'll take that swelling down faster.

Look, miss, I've been with this horse since he was a green thing just off the

farm. He's had harder knocks than this.

And I don't trust those new bloody machines anyway.

I sold you just fine, weren't it, boy?

Translation, I don't trust a woman vet.

And how's your patient?

Bone ship, prognosis excellent.

Jessica, I'm not nearly as worried about her as I am about Pops.

I just hope he wasn't anywhere near this place tonight.

Horn tops right, and the meadows in the blue.

And the birds sing merrily.

Oh, weep no more,

my lady.

Oh, weep no more.

Hiya, Sheriff. What can I do for you?

No more today.

You can help us put him in my cruiser.

Since when is it a crime to drink good Kentucky bourbon?

Just who are you, mister?

I'm the designated driver.

Let's see some IDs.

Is there some kind of problem?

No. Is there?

Private investigator.

What's your business here, Mr. McGraw?

None of yours, Sheriff.

It is if you're trying to cook up an alibi for Lamar Morgan.

An alibi for what?

Murder, maybe.

It's true, Jessica.

I did go over there.

But why, Lamar?

Because it was too easy for Randolph to hang up the phone before hearing me out.

You see, one of the folks who came by to see the Foles offered me a half a

million dollars for him.

But they had to have an answer by today.

So I proposed to Randolph that he lift the injunction and I'd place the sale

proceeds in trust until the court could decide our case.

He said no, and you popped him one, right?

Derek Padley, King Paragon's groom, said that there was a terrible row going on.

We had words, loud ones, too.

And they were loud enough for neither one of you to hear King Paragon kick his

door out. Good Lord, no.

Something like that would have stopped us cold.

I'm okay, honey.

I'm fine.

Just fine.

Jessica, I can smell the wood burning.

Harry, if King Paragon could kick himself free last night, he could have

done it before.

Now, maybe it was his idea to mate with the Morgan mares. Yeah, maybe it wasn't

quite as miserable as Miss Emmeline figured.

Well, Miss Fletcher, we may talk a mite slower down here, but our lab's just as

good as they come.

Those stains on Mr. Sterling's hand, nothing but... Old-fashioned hair dye.

Hair dye?

But Randolph's hair was gray.

What about the stains on the jacket?

Oh, those were blood, sure enough.

But they weren't Mr.

Sterling's. Now, the way I figure it, when the lab compares them to Lamar

Morgan's, I'm gonna have the lid nailed on this real tight.

I want to thank you so much for your help.

Y'all have a nice day, yeah?

I think his lid's a little loose.

Let's face it, Harry, things don't look good.

Yeah, maybe.

Suddenly I can smell your wood-burning, Harry. What is it?

It's something he said about hair dye, a subject on which I happen to be an

expert. You know, bottled blondes, carrot tops, and raven-haired brunettes.

Who is it?

Room service.

Hi, Althea.

I thought maybe we might have a little private wake for Randolph Sterling.

Come in, Mr. McGraw.

It'll be so nice to have a strong shoulder to cry on.

I must look a fright.

No, you look terrific.

Just infuriating to know that if I hadn't let that conniving little Diana

mess things up, I'd be the widow Sterling by now.

The rich widow Sterling.

But Randy seemed like a pretty classy guy.

He must have left you something in the will.

Small comfort knowing what a chunk Miss Piggy will be getting.

Miss Piggy, huh?

I thought you called her Lady Chatterley.

That was a literary illusion.

Harry, how would you like to slip into something just a little more

comfortable? Oh?

Like what?

Like my bedroom.

Well, I've always been partial to brunettes.

You know, you've got gorgeous hair. What color do you call that, anyway?

Whatever it said on the bottle, darling.

Oh, is that why Diana made that crack about you needing a touch-up?

So what?

Nothing. I was just wondering if maybe you were touching up your hair with dye

when Randolph came to see you after the party.

He some kind of mind reader or something, Harry?

Nah, just a wild guess.

But actually, he did have hair dye on his hand and his shirt cuff.

His cuff, huh?

I was aiming the bottle at the skunk's head.

Oh, what happened?

After he left, you wrote him a note and delivered it to him at his office?

What'd he do?

Tell the innkeeper that you'd have to pay your own rent from here on in?

You think I'd let any man treat me like that?

No.

Not if there was a heavy walking stick nearby.

Get out. Get out!

I'll take a rain check on the tour of the boudoir.

Ciao, honey.

Wow, half a million on the hoof.

So tell me, Jessica, you ever hear of a dame named Lady Chatterley?

Why, Harry, I never knew that you had a literary streak.

I don't, but that's what Althea called Diana. And I figured it wasn't much of a

compliment. Well, Lady Chatterley was a character who was created by D.H.

Lawrence. She had an affair with her husband's gamekeeper.

That's screwy. I mean, Diana's not married. I haven't seen any gamekeepers

around here.

Maybe not so screwy, Harry.

Diana was married to Lord Snowcroft, who has a very large estate in England.

Yeah? He into hunting game?

into racing horses.

Hello. It's Edie, isn't it? Yes, ma'am.

Is Todd around?

Oh, no, ma'am. He's gone to the track, you know, business as usual.

Oh, my goodness, you're not planning to wash all these windows, I hope? That's a

big job.

Oh, it's what they pay me for, but... Mrs. Fletcher,

is it true what I heard, that they arrested Mr.

Lamar? Yes.

Well, now, that is just out-and-out nonsense.

I mean, he is a fine gentleman, just like Mr. Randolph, and, oh, it's just

truly a shame that those two have started an interview and have to be in

friends all those years.

Well, it must be very hard on Miss Christie. Oh, yes.

And on Diana, too, I suppose.

Well, maybe yes, maybe no. I mean, ten years in England did not improve her

manners or her disposition.

Ma'am, I am not one to gossip, and I certainly didn't mean to eavesdrop, but,

well, since I hear that you are trying to help Mr. Lamar, I guess you should

know this. I heard hollering in the den the other night when I was helping to

clean up after the party.

And Diana was angry with her father? Oh, no, it was just the other way around. He

was angry with her.

Well, he said that, well, she just never did have any taste in men, and he'd be

damned if he'd let her throw any more money away.

And she said, well, it'd be her money someday, so why couldn't she just spend

it any way that she wanted?

Well, he told her not to be so sure.

She said he'd be a fool to leave it to her turncoat brother who was defending

Lamar Morgan against his own father.

Miss Diana screamed at him. Daddy, can't you see what Chrissy's done to him?

Todd hates your guts!

Edie, think back. This is very important.

When Mr. Sterling came home for dinner, did you notice any stains on his jacket

or on his shirt cuff?

Oh, no, ma'am. I mean, if there had been just so much as a spot, he'd gone

upstairs and changed.

I mean, Mr.

Randall... Well, he... He was very particular about his appearance, even

down at the stables.

It was just the kind of man he was.

Man.

It's truly a shame he didn't use the same kind of care dealing with his

family.

McGraw, you're supposed to be an investigator.

What about this lawsuit?

Lawsuit, my Aunt Tilly? What about you and the slammer for murder?

Tyrone is stomping around out there making threats about court orders to

force you to cooperate.

What's this all about, Pops? Well, he just wants me to get some blood.

You know how I hate needles.

I think maybe you better get your dad's lawyer over here.

Right, Lamar?

Maybe better, honey.

Pops. The thing is, it is my blood on Randolph's jacket.

He got that when we micked it up in his office when he hit me on the nose.

Sweetheart, get the lawyer.

The sheriff. You sure he read you your rights?

He's not that dumb.

Look, McGraw, I didn't kill Randolph.

Like I said, we mixed it up a bit, but you couldn't really call it a fight.

He bloodied my nose and I decked him.

So why is the sheriff still holding you? I mean, he wasn't killed with a fist.

Nope. He was killed with that fancy walking stick.

And it's got two sets of prints on it.

Randolph's and mine.

They got your prints on the murder weapon.

We had words.

What kind of a fool do you think I am, Lamar?

Anybody gets those folds, it's gonna be me.

And as long as that injunction stands, you can't sell them or erase them.

Damn you, Randolph.

I thought we could settle this like gentlemen.

I forgot you're a high-handed, forthrushing son of a carpetbagger.

He bled him a nose, so I took that damn stick of me from him and I decked him.

And then what?

Well, I walked out.

And what about Sterling? The last I saw, he was on the floor, cussing me out.

I got through to the law office.

Mark Mason's on his way.

I'd be a lot happier if his first name was Perry Anybody

else no, thanks

You know one thing doesn't make sense to me.

I Had one hell of a shouting match with dad right outside King Paragon stall

Horse didn't turn a hair.

Well if we believe your father and I do

Then someone else came into that stable soon after your father left. Very soon.

Yeah, but who else besides Lamar was mad enough at your old man to ice him?

Well, we do know one thing. Whoever went to the office either had to have been

admitted to the premises or had known the entry code.

Wasn't there a security guard on duty?

Old Lester.

He always took catnaps in between rounds.

We all knew it, but Dad never had the heart to fire him. It must have been

more than a catnap to have missed that quarrel.

And King Paragon kicking the door out.

Well, the fact is, Mrs. Fletcher, Lester was smashed.

Smelled just like a brewery.

Speaking of which, I better go check on the new guy.

I'll go with you. I need to look in on the filly.

We'll be back soon, Jessica.

Thanks.

You know, I really feel sorry for Todd.

Losing his own father and now being concerned about Christie's.

Yeah, not to mention maybe being responsible for the whole thing.

Todd responsible?

How? Come on, Jessica. It reads like a B-movie. The guy goes gaga over this

girl. He knows her old man's got money problems, so he decides to play

matchmaker for a couple of his mayors. I'll lay a nine to five. The beef he had

with his old man was over the lawsuit.

No. If Todd had been responsible, he would have said so.

Jessica, people tend to clam up when there's money involved, and this kid's

inheritance ain't exactly car fare.

You know, Harry, I have an idea.

Do you have any contacts with the British horse racing community?

Well, I know the guy who makes book for the Prince of Wales.

Is that what you mean? Well, could you call him, get some information?

Sure. Hey, what Irving don't know about horse flesh doesn't exist.

But it's gonna cost you. I mean, Irving's favorite charity is Irving.

Larry, it's only 3 o'clock in the morning in England.

Oh, this guy never leaves his phones or his computer.

Well, when does he sleep? Sleep? What's that?

Yes, let me have information for London, England.

So what do you want to know?

I beg your pardon, Miss Morgan.

You want to have this preliminary hearing held where?

In a stable at Stirling Stud, Your Honor. My dear child, may I remind you

that your dad is being held on a charge of murder in the first degree?

This request, at least to me, sounds capricious.

Excuse me, Your Honor, but this entire case revolves around a horse named King

Paragon and his mysterious disappearance from the stable in question.

And the outcome of this hearing could affect my father's trial.

Whoa there, Miss Christie. This case must be heard on its own merits and

quite apart from the other charge.

My client agrees to that, Your Honor.

Sir, Sterling Studd agrees with the defense request to hold this hearing at

the farm.

Well, you realize, son, you're going along with what appears to be a delaying

tactic. Only in the interest of justice, Your Honor.

Just this my foot.

There'll be no stalling and no hearing without my participation as one half the

surviving family of Randolph Sterling. No hearing, sis.

That suits me just fine. Let's call the whole thing off right now.

No. I want it settled now.

Great. We'll hear opening statements at 2 p.m. in the courtroom.

Meanwhile, inasmuch as there's a lot of hot air in here... I suggest we first

enjoy some fresh air out at Stirling Stud.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Well, don't thank me yet, young lady. There better be a damn good reason for

this inconvenience to all of us. Oh, there is, sir.

The fact is, Mrs. Fletcher has been able to come up with a surprise witness.

Surprise witness?

What surprise witness?

A horse?

Your surprise witness is a horse? Oh, not just any horse, Diana, but a horse

we all know as King Paragon.

And he alone may be the only witness who can sort out this terrible maze of

contradictions. Oh, this is outrageous.

This stupid animal can't even think, much less talk. Really, Diana, you'll

hurt his feelings. He's quite sensitive, you know.

God, you all know that Miss Emeline has a doctorate in animal behavior. Oh, my

God, how irrelevant can you get? Oh, knock it off, Justin. My father's

friends will not take kindly to the subversion of justice.

That remark was uncalled for. Your Honor, my client is only... He's trying

to... the judge, and I will remind you, sir, that my father has a lot more

friends than hers did, and they are behind him 100%. Now hear this,

everybody. I'm going to listen to this testimony with an open mind. You may

begin, Miss Emmeline.

King Paragon, do you remember what happened the night Mr. Sterling was

killed?

He said yes.

It's a trick.

Do you remember kicking your way out of your stall?

I told you that, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, since Mr. Padley verifies the horse's story, you may continue, Miss

Emmeline. Had you ever done that before?

Had you run off like that to have a moonlight visit with Lamar Morgan's

mares?

Your Honor, this is just their sleazy way of avoiding stud fees.

Getting the horse to say it was his idea?

Miss Emmeline?

He said the question was insulting.

He's quite busy fulfilling his contractual duties. He doesn't have to

go chasing after it at night. Excuse me, Your Honor.

But whether the horse went to the mayors of his own accord or whether he was led

is immaterial.

Morgan Hill Farms does not owe Sterling Estates any stud fees.

Mrs.

Fletcher wants to know if your name is really King Paragon.

Or if, in fact, your name is actually Knight Sword.

Excuse me.

But this is madness.

Knight's sword?

He's dead.

He was struck down by lightning.

It's on record at the English Jockey Club. Yeah, sure.

Just before you were supposed to ship his full brother, King Paragon, to

Stirling's stud.

And what do you know? It turns out that both horses were owned by Lord

Snowcroft, who sold King Paragon to Randolph Stirling. Yes, and both very

reputable horsemen. Sure.

But what if King Paragon had died instead of Night Sword?

That's impossible.

Hey, I'm just supposing here, sweet face. I mean, you can't ship a dead

horse, especially with six million bucks riding on it. So somebody gets a bright

idea, a quick dye job on Night Sword's white sock, switch the papers, and lo

and behold, King Paragon is alive and well and living in Kentucky.

Isn't that why you didn't want to X-ray the horse when he was hurt, Mr. Padley?

An X-ray would have revealed the old injury that kept Night Sword from

racing. Utter rot. No, I don't think so.

But I also don't think that Randolph Sterling had any idea about the

deception until the night that he was murdered.

I suspect that he caught you in the act of touching up Night Sword's white

marking. He'd already quarreled with Diana over her romantic involvement with

you, but this was far worse.

This was a matter of family honor.

He would have to expose the whole fraudulent scheme, and you, Mr. Padley,

had no intention of going to jail.

So you jerked the walking stick away from Randolph and struck him with it. A

horse panicked at the smell of blood and kicked his way through the door.

You moved Randolph back to the office before you chased after the horse.

No!

Those fingerprints on that bloody walking stick.

Of Mr. Morgan's, and not mine. Of course.

You wore gloves to protect your hands from dye stains.

And I found these in the horse's tack box.

Everybody who works around horses uses those.

Yeah?

Does everybody work where the straw covers up dye and blood stains?

Damn you, Derek.

You told me Lamar killed him. Easy, Di.

It's okay.

You know, I'm real proud of you two. You pulled off that scam like a couple of

pros. Scam? What scam?

Well, you know, where you use the wires to make the horse's head move and make

him nod up and down. Oh, but Harry, there were no wires.

No wires?

Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute. That doesn't make sense. I mean, if you and

the horse were talking all this time, how come he never told you his real

name? Oh, I asked him about that, Mr. McGraw.

He apologized, and he explained that he likes it here.

He didn't want to be shipped back to England. It's much too cold.

Grawl, you did one hell of a job.

Well, after Althea clued me in, it all started falling into place.

I mean, Lady Chatterley had her gamekeeper and Lady Diana had her

horsekeeper. It's simple if you know your D.H. Lawrence.

Ah.

But tell me, why did Padlet bring the horse over to serve his armies?

Oh, that's easy, because...

Why don't you tell him, Jessica?

Well, he wanted to make trouble. Not between you and Randolph, but between

Todd and his father.

You see, Diana and Derek wanted to run the syndicate. Now, she knew that Todd

would take your side in a dispute.

And with Todd out of the picture, she felt that she could talk her father into

it.

Harry, we should start leaving for the airport.

Jessica.

Thank you. Harry, come back to see us. Thank you.

We'll see you in three years, if not before.

Oh, what's in three years?

The chestnut foal will win the derby.

Yeah? Who says?

Night Sword told Miss Emmeline.

Yeah? I'm buying the chestnut foal, keeping it in the family.

Wait a minute. Didn't Miss Emmeline say that horses can't predict the future?

Oh, no.

Fathers can always tell when they have a special child.

You're kidding me.

He's putting me on, right?

Harry, you know what they say. There are more things between heaven and earth

than men dream of.

Just in case I don't get back.

You? Jessica, you're betting 20 bucks?

On the nose, Harry.

After all, I mean, this is one tip that came straight from the horse's mouth.