Original subtitles

Hi, Miss Foster. Hello, Tommy. Right over there, please.

Well, you look sensational to me.

You'll stop when we tell you to stop. Got it?

Tell me what happened.

Cause of death was strangulation.

Listen, Vic, I'm gonna have a bundle by the end of the week. I promise I will

pay you back in full. No, this afternoon.

You and Monica, you're not... I'm fixing a faucet. I'm afraid I find that very

hard to accept.

This is interesting.

A bullet.

That means there are two people who are determined to kill Tommy

Excellent. The quality is better this time.

But why so few?

I was promised more.

I don't know. I just deliver them.

No matter.

Gilders. Dollars are tight this week.

There is a problem?

No. No.

No problem.

from Amsterdam is now arriving at gate 10.

Philip, I am sorry, but it's just not possible.

Look, I'm barely halfway through it.

It's going to be all I can do to finish it by Wednesday.

Yes, you too. And don't forget the dinner party.

Right. I hate to disturb you again, Jessica, but I can't find the oregano.

Oh, I, uh, I think it's in the left hand. Oh, there.

Hang on.

Here we are.

Oh, this was so sweet of you. But I don't think it's the best idea you ever

had. Susan, this is going to be a huge success.

I mean, good heavens. Think how effortlessly you prepared those

marvelous meals for Seth and me and Eve Simpson. Except none of you were

thinking of commissioning me to write a cookbook.

Listen to me. I guarantee that Philip will take one bite of your marvelous

food and he will conclude that he has died and gone to heaven. And you'll get

a book contract.

Hi, Miss Watson. Hello, Tommy. Right over there, please.

Listen, I want to thank you again for those notes on my story. They were right

on the money. Oh, I'm glad they helped.

Are you kidding?

They're printing it in next week's school papers. Oh, that's wonderful.

Um, I've written another one. Would you mind, you know, uh... Taking a look at

it? Well, if you give me a few days.

Yes.

Send it to me.

Actually, I have a copy of it right here.

Please take as long as you want.

Oh, Mrs. Wells, best luck with your big banquet.

And if I don't see you again, have a great trip back to Maine.

Oh, thank you, Tommy. Oh, such a sweet boy.

And talented, too.

Oh.

Oh, no.

They've forgotten the bay leaf. I cannot start sauce espanol without it. The bay

leaf.

Monica.

Hey, how was your trip?

Oh, exhausting.

It feels as if I could sleep for a week.

Well, you look sensational to me.

Tommy.

What is it with you, Tommy? You're driving me crazy.

I think you blew Mrs. Fletcher's order. You forgot the bay leaves.

Oh, man.

Plus, she needs some more stuff.

Now, do me a favor.

Try to get it right this time, okay?

Yes, sir, yes, sir.

Monica, I came in second on the 100-meter butterfly.

Tommy. I don't know what it is with that kid.

His size 12 may be on the ground, but his head is in Never Never Land.

Mr. Eggers, he was just saying hello.

Yeah, listen, Miss Evers, I don't like to bother you with this, but your

grocery tab?

It's three months overdue. I know, Mr. Eggers.

Tomorrow, okay?

No, this afternoon.

Or I'm afraid I'm gonna have to cut your credit off.

Oh, Miss Evers, what a lovely, lovely surprise.

Hi, Vic. Hey, hey, let me take that for you.

So, you gonna be with us for a while?

Oh, I'm gonna be in town about four days.

Oh, maybe that's enough time to catch up a little. Last time you blew it out here

so fast, we hardly had a chance to talk.

Look, Vic, I'm really tapped right now, okay?

But I was hoping maybe you could take some action for me. See, there's this

filly in the fifth at Santa Anita, and I... You have got to be joking. No.

Listen, Vic, I... I'm gonna have a bundle by the end of the week. I

promise, I will pay you back in full, and also... Wonderful.

You give me the bet then, I'll take it for cash.

Vic, I'm talking about $500 here. It'll almost get me even.

Hey, save it for the tooth fairy, and you count your blessings, because

anybody else but me, they come after those gorgeous kneecaps or something

else a long time ago. You got me?

Ciao, sweetie.

Monica, I didn't think you were coming back till tomorrow.

Well, I guess that shows how wrong a person can be.

I brought up your mail and some packages.

Thank you.

Those roses came for you from that stockbroker.

Long stems.

Guess you can afford them.

Yeah.

I noticed your answering machine. Oh, my God.

27 messages in just three days.

I'm sorry, what did you say?

Oh, nothing.

Oh, Sandy, you don't need to water my plants. I can do that.

Oh, I'm here. Might as well do it.

Today's my watering day.

Planning a big night on the town?

No, no, actually, I was just going to stay home tonight.

Tomorrow, then. It'll be party time as usual.

Nope. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of maybe going out of town for

a couple days.

Alone. With all the men that call you.

Listen, Sandy, I would love to stay and chat with you, but the flight was very

full, and I'm just wiped out. I just need some time alone.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to impose.

Oh, no.

Sandy, you weren't imposing, really.

You were a great neighbor, and I appreciate everything that you've done

for me.

Well...

You sure got a funny way of showing it.

Sandy!

It's me.

No, no, no problem.

I got the money.

Clap the water. Cut it. You're rushing your strokes. Derek, watch your

breathing. Pace yourself.

Sorry, I'm late.

Everybody gets here on time but you. Why do you suppose that is? I couldn't help

it. You couldn't help it?

Like you can't help dogging your homework?

Dad, I'm doing my best.

Don't blow smoke at me.

I see what's on your computer, and it isn't homework assignments. It's those

fantasies you write.

What's on my computer is none of your business. That's private. Not as long as

I'm paying for it, it isn't. Besides, I was doing my homework. That's why I'm

late. Oh, yeah? Let me see.

Oh, for God's sakes. Her again.

No wonder your studies are going to hell.

Please, Dad. Monica's a friend. That's all. Friends like that, you don't need.

She could almost be your mother.

That's not fair. You don't know anything. Okay.

Shut up.

Suit up.

and get in the pool.

This is all?

What's going on?

Nothing. He said the market's flooded with stones right now.

Prices are way down.

Okay.

Maybe we'll do better next time.

I'll have to get this turn in the dollars before I pay you.

Fred, one more thing.

What is it?

I want out.

Why? Because it's too risky.

I'm scared.

You?

A gambler?

Come on. No.

I don't like the odds anymore.

And I'm not anxious to go to prison either.

You'll stop when we tell you to stop.

Got it?

Then, Fred, I need an advance.

I need ten grand and I need it fast.

You and everybody else.

Yeah, our boy in Amsterdam has good hunches. She's doing it to us. Again.

Are you all right? I am, but I'm not too sure about my batter.

Well, nothing that another half dozen eggs in a couple of hours wouldn't cure.

See, if I could just get these thumbs to work like fingers again. Oh, Jessica, I

can't tell you how terrible I feel about what I'm doing to your schedule.

It's all right, Susan. Don't worry about it.

If it wasn't this, it would be something else, I assure you.

that everything smells wonderful.

Oh, it does, doesn't it?

Well, I just have to keep telling myself that the future of Western civilization

does not depend on this meal.

Oh, speaking of civilization, I just can't find the white napkin. You're

supposed to go with your white tablecloth. They're downstairs in the

dryer. They should be ready in a few minutes.

Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. The gourmet shop called. They're out of

chanterelle mushrooms.

Oh, that's not good.

No, the whole third course.

Depends on the chanterelle in the puff pastry.

Ah.

Well, I will give Mr. Igers a call.

He's usually been rather handy at, uh, stucking up these things.

Um, you have some money for me, Miss Evers? I will write you a check, Mr.

Igers. Good. I'd appreciate that a lot.

Excuse me.

I guess grocery.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.

Chanterelle mushrooms?

Uh, let me take a look.

Yeah, yeah, I think you're in luck.

Okay, do you want me to include them in your order?

That's a total UO. Okay.

Oh, I don't believe it. I'm out of checks.

Listen, Tommy, could you tell Mr. Igers that I'll be right back?

Yeah, you bet. Thanks.

Did you, uh, get her check?

No, but she's... I told you.

No more credit, and you'd let her walk right out of the store.

Look, Mr. Agra, she said she'd be right back. She said she said.

What am I going to do with you, Tommy?

Look, deliver this to Mrs. Fletcher, but first, stop by Miss Everest and pick up

her check.

Right.

Either she pays, or I'm going to take it out of your hide for the stuff she

walked out of the store with.

Monica? What?

Mrs. Fletcher! Mrs. Fletcher! Monica's dead.

He killed her.

Oh, my God, he killed her. Tommy, Tommy, please calm down. Now, take a deep

breath.

Now, tell me what happened.

Monica,

she's a flight attendant friend of mine, and I saw this guy. He killed her, and

he took a shot at me, too. Oh, and I think that we'd better call the police.

He looked right at me.

I'd know him for sure if I saw him again. So you didn't actually see him

kill her?

No, Monica was already dead.

So then the guy shoots at you, and you drop the groceries and run. Is that

about it?

Yeah.

Eddie?

Any luck with the bullet?

Negative, sir.

We checked the floors, the ceilings.

Didn't find anything.

If a weapon was fired in here and missed, there's got to be a bullet hole

or a nick somewhere.

I'm not imagining it, Lieutenant.

I heard it.

And the body, this Monica Evers?

He must have taken her away.

Monica's dead.

I saw her. Calm down, son.

I'm trying to believe you.

Lieutenant, couldn't the body have been hidden in one of these storage lockers?

That's entirely possible, Mrs. Fletcher.

But to get a search warrant, I've got to convince a judge there's probable cause.

And just between you and me, about the only crime I can see here is maybe lying

to a police officer. But why would Tommy do that?

I don't know. You tell me.

Maybe he panicked because he dropped the groceries.

He seems like a nice kid, though.

Lieutenant, would you mind if we went upstairs to Monica Evers' apartment just

to see if she's there?

It'll be my pleasure, Mrs. Fletcher.

Guys, go on back to the precinct.

Looks like someone's here.

Police!

Whoever's in there, come out. Get your hands in the air.

Right now.

Whoa, whoa.

Wait. Come on, come on.

Don't go crazy on me now.

Who are you?

I'm the manager. I'm Vic Gorman.

What are you doing in there?

I'm fixing a faucet.

I take it that Miss Evers is not here.

No, she went out about two minutes ago.

What's going on here? Two minutes ago?

Yeah, she got a little tired of me banging on the pipes.

What's wrong?

Flowers and I are going to check the basement again, Mrs. Fletcher. Yes.

Bring the kids. Thank you, Lieutenant.

Let's go, Tom.

Look, Lieutenant, I swear I'm telling the truth.

Take it easy, son.

I'm not gonna press charges.

I just want you to know that making a false police report is a serious crime.

You've wasted the time of four officers.

Plus, I don't know how much you value Mrs. Fletcher as a friend, but you've

certainly shown her that your word isn't worth very much.

I don't know what your problem is, son, but you've got some serious soul

-searching to do.

I tell you, son...

That was my kid. I'd ground him for a year.

I don't know, Flowers.

He saw something.

Even if it wasn't a murder.

Hey, how about that Fletcher lady?

Yeah, the guys at Manhattan South are right on the money about her.

She's a genuine piece of work.

Look, Eddie, get Miss Ever's phone number. Call her.

Keep calling her until you find out she's okay.

Meanwhile, we both better keep our eyes out for any Jane Does that may turn up

in the morgue. Gotcha. All right.

Sandy,

darling, you're just the lady I wanted to see. Oh, Vic! Have you seen Monica?

I'm not her appointment secretary.

Sandy, don't bust my chops here. All I want to know is, did you see her?

It's all this police business, isn't it? She's in some sort of trouble. Would you

come on already? This is important. Answer my question.

Not since this morning.

You sure?

Yes.

Listen, um, you and Monica, you're not, you know... What, are you kidding me?

This is business. I could be out of bundle.

She did mention something about taking a trip by herself.

Oh, man.

I'm fixing brisket tonight.

Your favorite.

You're still coming over, aren't you?

I'll let you know.

I think I know why Tommy told those lies.

Jess, wine.

Sixty bucks a bottle. He broke them all when he dropped the box.

You think he made up that fantastic tale because he didn't want to have to pay

for all this?

Well, I guess it's possible.

How's it going?

I'm a lot less overwhelmed, I'm happy to say.

You know, I think it's going to work out.

Hello?

Philip, how are you?

Well, let me ask her.

You're going to love this.

Three of your hopefully...

about to be published as friends are coming into town unexpectedly and philip

wants to know if you could bring them along to the dinner party oh yes i can

work it out just somehow say yes all right susan says that she'd be delighted

to welcome your friends 50 laps for what telling the

truth that's real fair come on tommy get real for god's sake you're damn lucky

the police let you off thanks dad Thanks for nothing.

Tommy?

Look, son, I'm not trying to give you a bad time.

Well, I guess I'm lucky because you're doing a hell of a job, Dad. Tommy, I

just want you to know that this is... Where are you going?

What does it matter? Nothing I ever do is right.

You crazy?

Three more people.

Must have been out of my mind.

Oh, well, I just keep telling myself.

I'm just...

Going to be rich and famous.

Oh, oh, look, the sugar.

Oh, hold it. Let me get a bowl.

Oh, Jess, it's for the creme brulee. I mean, he must have broken it. He dropped

it. Oh,

I don't think that's why it's leaking.

What is this?

I think it proves that Tommy...

was telling the truth.

What are you looking for?

A bullet.

Somebody did shoot at him.

And the sugar sack absorbed the impact.

Lucky for him.

Is Lieutenant Warren there, please?

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

I want to get this right over to forensics.

Uh, and Miss Evers, have you been able to reach her?

Detective Flowers has been leaving messages on her answering machine every

hour or so.

If she doesn't turn up by midnight, I'll give it to missing persons.

Uh-huh. There's one other thing, Lieutenant.

Tommy Ramson, I mean, if there is a killer at large, he could be in very

great danger.

That occurred to me, too.

So I spoke to his father a little while ago.

It seems the kid took off this afternoon, and he hasn't come home yet.

Oh, now, wait a minute. You're not suggesting that you think that he... If

it turns out that there was a murder, it could also turn out that Tommy is our

perpetrator. According to his father, the kid had or has a very heavy-duty

crush on Miss Evers, and the feeling wasn't mutual.

Okay, better. Not good enough, but better.

Five-lap cool down.

Mrs. Fletcher, you're the one who's been helping him with those stories of his.

Well, I think he's very talented.

Tell me something.

Outside of that, do you have any idea what's wrong with him? Mr. Remsen, I

really don't think it's my place to... Look, I'm a coach.

And when I can't figure out why a member of my team isn't performing up to his

potential, I get another opinion. Because every once in a while, it turns

out to be some simple thing that I missed.

Well, I don't know Tommy that well.

But I have the sense that he very much wants to be a writer.

That again. And if I may say so, your reluctance to recognize that part of him

really bothers him.

Well, I tell you, I got a hot flash for you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Sports scholarships are a whole lot easier to come by than literary ones.

Writers aren't exactly a big draw at college stadiums.

On the other hand, a writer can still perform after 35.

Well, you got a point there.

Anyway, I guess like most parents today, one of my big worries is that he might

be involved with drugs, you know, that whole scene.

Yeah, well, has he ever given you any indication of that? Well, I'm running

away. I mean, he'll be back. This isn't the first time, except now the police

want to talk to him.

And that guy... What guy?

You mean this might have to do with that thing you're supposed to have witnessed?

See, yesterday, when Tommy took off, there was this bozo. I saw him come down

the street and walk towards Tommy.

Tommy took one look at him and ran.

Mr. Ramson, do you think that you could describe him to the police?

Yeah, sure.

Monica murdered?

Please!

She was home last night.

You saw her?

No, but when I came in, I heard noises coming from her apartment.

I mean, she is always partying.

Very popular, even with delivery boys.

Oh, it's open.

Oh, my goodness, look at this place.

This explains the sounds you heard last night.

Hello?

Monica?

Anyone home?

I'll check the bedroom.

Well, it's hard to believe.

The bedroom's an even bigger mess.

Please don't take much water.

No, once a week is enough.

It would be hard to tell if anything was missing here.

Impossible.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm worried about Monica.

I think you have reason to be, Miss Oates.

So what's this got to do with me?

VG? Vic Gorman?

Lady, there are a lot of people with those initials.

Yes, but not too many who claim to be repairing a faucet in a silk suit on an

expensive gold watch.

You know, I like you, lady. You're all right.

Yeah.

I was taking bets for Monica.

The girl had the worst luck on the West Side.

And she owes you money. Big. Twelve large, give or take.

That's why I was in the apartment. I was looking for cash.

And that's why you said that Monica had just left. You didn't want the police to

think that you were in there without her permission.

You're really out there, you know? You want some?

What was the last time that you actually saw her?

Yesterday sometime before noon.

I see.

I assume that Monica rented one of those storage rooms down in the basement.

Yeah, a lot of the tenants do. Why?

I wonder, would it be possible for me to see it?

Hey, how about keeping me out of this, huh?

My only concern is the safety of a young man.

Okay, let's go.

Jeez, what a load of junk.

It looks as if something was dragged across the floor.

A trunk, maybe.

Or a body.

What's this over here?

That's Monica's.

And if she had left, she didn't go very far.

What do you mean?

Well, here's her wallet and her passport.

And a one-way ticket to Geneva.

Damn it, she's bugging out on me. Well, perhaps you weren't the only one.

I hope that you and the super didn't destroy any evidence down there

inadvertently. Well, I hope not, Lieutenant.

Now, you were saying you found Monica Evers' body?

Yeah, they fished her out of the Harlem River, up around 225th Street. Do you

want some more coffee? No, thank you, no.

Then Tommy was telling the truth.

Not necessarily.

Cause of death was strangulation.

She was garrotted.

But if the killer strangled her, why... Why would he fire a gun at Tommy Remsen?

Well, I got a couple of theories about that, Mrs. Fletcher, one of which you're

gonna hate.

We know that the kid had the hots for the victim.

Suppose he bumps into her in the basement, nobody's around, he makes a

pass at her, and he goes a little bit too far.

Boys of that age can be kind of klutzy where it comes to romance.

Anyway, she rejects him, or worse.

She threatens to report him, so he strangles her.

And the gunshot?

You said he's creative.

After he kills her, he dreams up this story.

And with his own gun, he fires a bullet into the sugar sack, knowing that sooner

or later, it's going to be found.

Well, you were right, Lieutenant.

I not only hate it, I find it very difficult to believe.

Well, hey, I don't love it myself.

And your other notion?

that the boy saw what he said he saw. And the murderer wasn't alone.

There was a second person who fired at Tommy.

An accomplice.

Yeah, I like that much better.

So do I.

Nobody likes to think of a typical all-American kid like that with those

clear blue eyes looking out at you from under that baseball cap is a killer.

But, hey, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't keep all my options open.

Oh, I understand.

Anyway, Mrs. Fletcher, I just want you to know we are pursuing the hell out of

the accomplice theory.

Well, I'm glad, because if it's true, that means there are two people who are

determined to kill Tommy.

Oh, Tommy's father called.

He asked if you'd heard from him.

Oh, Lieutenant Warren spoke to him.

I think Mr. Remsen is beginning to realize that Tommy may be in more danger

than he thought.

Oh.

There'll be so much central back in Cabot Curtain. Yeah, not so many places

to hide.

New York City? I don't know. He could be anywhere.

Oh, I glanced at that.

I'm not a science fiction fan, you know, but I think he writes beautifully.

Well, I think he has quite a flair for poetic images.

Oh, that's exactly what struck me, Jessica.

Oh, it's about a young space alien, you know, and he comes from a distant

galaxy. He's wrongly accused of treason, so he hides in the dome of the Space

Academy. And he never learns that he's been cleared.

By the time they get to him, he's dead.

I think it's very touching.

And it has some real interesting characters.

What is it, Jess?

Lieutenant Warren?

Yes.

You know, I think I know where Tommy is.

Would you meet me over at his school?

Good.

I'm going to call his father.

Listen, you may have to preside over this dinner party on your own, but it's

going to be a huge success.

I don't know, Mrs. Fletcher. It seems to me this is the last place Tommy would

go.

Someone's broken in here.

Wait, let me go first.

My God.

Tommy!

My God, it's not Tommy.

Looks like a single shot through the head.

Is this the guy your son was running away from? Yeah, it looks like him.

Well, he matches the description the grocer gave of the man who came in his

store looking for your son.

Eddie, I want the full forensics team on this and fast.

We've got to get some prints ASAP.

We've got to ID this guy, find out who he was working for.

Got you, Lieutenant.

Mrs. Fletcher, I assume you think Tommy's holed up here somewhere in the

school. Yes, yes, I do. And I think I know where.

This is Detective Flowers.

I need a forensics team at the corner here at Montclair High School and right

away.

Thank you.

Dad. Tommy, are you okay?

Yeah, sort of.

I thought you were that guy.

Son, how long have you been up there?

Uh, since yesterday, I didn't know where else to go.

Uh, the guy that killed Monica, he was chasing me, and no one will believe me

except Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank God you're all right.

Oh, Tommy.

Tommy, did you hear anything unusual while you were up here?

No, like what? Well, like a gunshot. You see, the man who was following you was

killed downstairs.

Killed?

This is interesting.

I've never seen that before.

This has been recently fired.

I didn't even know it was there.

Son, pending the outcome of tests to determine whether or not this is a

murder weapon, I'm placing you in protective custody.

You're putting him in jail?

Mr. Remsen, the man in the pool could have been killed by his accomplice in

the murder of Monica Evers, which means that Tommy's life could still be in

danger.

Or...

Victim's name is Fred Turner.

He's a jewel thief with a rap sheet about eight miles long.

Also a suspect in a Diamond Center murder. And you're charging my son with

his murder? I'm afraid so, Mr. Remsen.

We've got fingerprints.

We've got a paraffin test.

You name it. I'll see if the DMV records have come in.

And what about the weapon?

This bullet was taken from Turner's body. It's a .32 caliber from the gun

that I found in the school attic.

Yeah, but it could have been in self-defense.

I mean, this Fred Turner was following him, threatening him. Yeah, it could

have been self-defense, all right.

But ballistics says that this bullet is a match for the one you found in the

sugar sack.

The one Tommy claimed was fired at him.

They were both fired from the same gun. So you're saying Tommy killed Monica

Evers, too?

The truth is, I don't think Turner was anywhere near Monica Evers' killing.

I think he was part of some bad element that your son Tommy had fallen in with.

Oh, God.

I'm afraid I find that very hard to accept.

Look, both of you, this is lousy for me, too.

You know,

I'm beginning to realize how far away I pushed my son, riding him the way I did.

Trying to make him go to the directions that I wanted for him.

Suddenly all that stuff seems so unimportant, so wrong.

Well, look, if it's any consolation, I'm quite sure you're not the first well

-meaning father to have done it that way.

Oh, thanks, but that doesn't make it any less stupid.

And now it's a little late to set things right.

I wouldn't be too sure of that, Dan.

You've been so supportive of me just...

I just wish I could say something that would help.

Just something that doesn't quite track.

Oh, would you give me a hand with this?

Now, we've got to flip this.

Oh, carefully.

And?

We've got to put it on this dish, huh? Yes, I think so. I think it's kind of

a... We ready?

All right.

Come up now.

Come on. It's a vacuum.

Oh, Susan, that is beautiful. Thank you.

Congratulations. Oh, the sink.

It looks like it's getting rid of the flow.

Oh,

it's all stepped up.

Jessica, are you all right?

Susan, I feel a lot better now than I did a moment ago.

I think I know who committed those murders.

And it wasn't Tommy Ramson.

Oh, wait a minute.

You know all that just because those little holes in the stopper basket were

plugged in?

Actually, one little hole and the bullet that made it.

If I'm not mistaken, one more look at one of Monica Evers' flowerpots will

tell me why she was killed.

Oh, thank you for coming, Lieutenant.

It's my pleasure, Mrs. Fletcher.

There's nothing I'd like better than to see Tommy Remsen get off the hook.

So what do you have for me?

Well, clearly everything revolved around Monica Evers' murder.

But the motive, that was really obscure.

And if the boy didn't do it, you've certainly got that right.

Unless you were to suppose that she was killed, at least in part, because she

had something the murderers wanted very badly, and they were unable to find on

her person.

Whoa, now, where did that come from? Well, because they searched her

apartment after they killed her.

I assumed they'd found it.

But when my sink filled up because the drain was blocked, I remembered one of

Miss Ever's plants was dying from being over-watered.

It occurred to me that the drain hole in the bottom of the pot was being blocked

by something.

Something like a bag of diamonds.

Diamonds that she was holding out from the killers for whom she'd been working

as a courier.

Mrs. Fletcher, that is very impressive.

Fred Turner was a suspected diamond thief, and Miss Evers was... She was a

flight attendant who regularly flew to Amsterdam, one of the great diamond

centers of the world, where she'd sell the stones Mr. Turner had stolen,

converting them to cash, which she brought back to New York.

And she was holding these back.

I like it.

I like this.

Problem is, who killed Turner?

We're still stuck with all that evidence pointing toward Tommy Remsen.

Perhaps.

You're losing me.

I think Mr. Turner was killed by his partner. When Tommy entered the

basement, he saw Fred Turner crouching over Monica's body. What he didn't see

was the man who fired the gun at him and then framed him. That man could only be

one person. You.

Mrs. Fletcher, I was with you right up until that one.

Well, one of the things that led me to that conclusion, Lieutenant, were your

own words.

Nobody likes to think that a typical all-American kid like that, with those

clear blue eyes looking out at you from under that baseball cap, is a killer.

So? After witnessing Miss Evers' murder, Tommy dropped his baseball cap in the

lobby of my building.

Oh, my God, he killed me! Tommy, Tommy, please calm down. Now, take a deep

breath.

Now tell me what happened. Monica,

she's a flight attendant friend of mine. When you arrived on the scene to

investigate, he was bareheaded.

The only time you could have seen him wearing it was when you fired a shot at

him. This is not exactly what we call hard evidence, Mrs. Fletcher.

No, but there's plenty of that.

The bullet you showed me in your office, the bullet that killed Fred Turner, you

said it was the same .32 caliber round that fired at Tommy and from the same

gun. It was.

i have ballistics tests that show that test results concocted by you the truth

is the bullet that i found in the sugar sack was a nine millimeter the same

caliber that's used in police pistols it's noticeably larger than a 32 which

was the bullet that you showed me in the police station i can show you that the

bullet that you took out of the sugar sack and the bullet that killed fred

turner were both 32 caliber oh i'm sure you can because you switched them I'm

also sure a real forensics report will indicate that Tommy's fingerprints

weren't on the gun, which you must have planted only seconds before you found

it. And I have no doubt they'll be able to prove you also faked the paraffin

test that implicated Tommy.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher, you certainly seem to have everything all figured out.

But there's absolutely nothing to connect me to Fred Turner. Wrong,

Lieutenant. You caught Turner pulling a jewelry store robbery.

In exchange for not turning him in, you made an arrangement with him.

He'd supply the goods, and you'd find someone to carry it to Europe.

Enter Monica Evers.

And who told you that?

I did, Lieutenant.

I checked a little further into the records, Miss Fletcher, and, uh, as it

turned out, Monica Evers was caught in a gambling sting right in our own

precinct.

She was in deep to the bookies.

I figured she'd do almost anything to get out. And unfortunately for her, you

were right.

And Turner was the only one who knew that you were involved.

And Tommy had identified him.

So as soon as I arranged to meet you at the school, you called Turner, got there

before we did, and killed him with a silencer.

How did you know that?

Because Tommy didn't hear the shot.

You are good, Mrs. Fletcher.

You're good.

No, Lieutenant.

Miss Fletcher told me she thought you were involved. I said to myself, no way.

I've just never known a better cop than you.

Eddie, I know you'd feel better if I gave you the speech about

the kids in college and the leaky plumbing and the wife's surgery.

All these bozos who belong in jail are living like kings.

But the truth is, I like money.

Enough to commit murder for it.

Well, I guess the next time I see you, Jessica, we'll be at my autograph party

for my cookbook. Which I guarantee they'll still be talking about your

dinner party.

It was a magnificent meal. Susan, you really outdid yourself.

Your solving of those murders will stay with people a lot longer and with

considerably fewer calories.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher. Hello, Tommy.

Mrs. Wells, your ears must be burning.

Mr. Iger's been bragging about you and your dinner and your new cookbook to

everyone who comes in the store.

Well, that's not the only bragging that's going on, Tommy. Your dad was

telling me about your college scholarship in creative writing.

Darn, I wanted to tell you myself.

He's very proud.

I know.

I applied for it months ago. I was afraid to tell him. But when it came

through, I think he was happier about it than I was.

Well, I think it's delightful.

Oh, I almost forgot, Mrs. Fletcher. My dad and I would like to invite you to

our house for dinner next Friday night.

Well, thank you. That would be very nice. Great.

Oh, and don't be too disappointed if it's not great. My dad, he picked out

this heavy-duty recipe that's sort of beyond his talents.

He's been practicing all week. The kitchen's already a disaster area.

Susan, we know a little about disaster areas don't we?