All language subtitles for Murder, She Wrote - 07x15 - The Taxman Cometh.DVD-Rip .English.updated.Addic7ed.com

- What does the IRS want?
- The usual, money.

Tonight on "Murder, She Wrote "...

The IRS can't find
the money we withheld...

from the first two quarters?

You saying the IRS doesn't
have two quarters to rub together?

That's blackmail.

We may take you house
and your car,

We may send you to jail.

But we'd never do anything
as unsavory as blackmail.

- And what did you get?
- I got rid of Nolan.

- I've read your stuff.
- Which of my books have you read?

Books?
I'm talking about your tax returns.

Put your hands up.

7x15 "THE TAXMAN COMETH"
Subtitles subXpacio

You must believe me,

I don't know how the mistake was made.

Give me time,
I'll get to the bottom of it.

I've never cheated on my income tax.

- Never.
- Before now.

Mr. Yelverton, I'm a consultant
with my ex-wife's company.

They pay me...

see line 16, paragraph C.

Their accountants screwed you,

I mean, me.

I'm glad you brought up Edna Hayes.

Mr. Hayes, in my business,
there are oversights...

and there are oversights.

Mr. Hayes, we're not out to get you.

We want to help you...

if you will help us.

- Of course, sir,
- Not your taxes.

Aunt Edna's Baked Goods...

claim to have deposited
two million dollars...

in quarterly withholding taxes.

Our records indicate otherwise.

My ex-wife owes you two million?

More or less.

Help us to find it, and...

we'll forget about
your little oversight.

Mr. Yelverton...

- that's blackmail.
- Mr. Hayes,

We'd never do anything
as unsavory as blackmail.

Edna? It's me, Jessica.

My plane landed
about 20 minutes ago.

Jessica!

My goodness,
can you ever forgive me?

I forgot to send the car
to the airport,

I forgot, wait a minute...

you are on your Midwest
book promotion tour, aren't you?

Yes.

At least I remembered something.

It's just been living hell for me,
what with the IRS hassle, the loan,

trying to run the plant.

Now be honest.
Have I come at a bad time?

You sure have.

But I can't wait to see you.

I'll grab a taxi.

What with 1,500
employees nationwide,

from whom we collect taxes,

and then have to pay
the IRS quarterly,

not the remodeling load comes due,

so the problem
with the IRS is even more difficult.

Edna, slow down.

I've just landed and you've
gotten me up in the air again.

Now, start at the beginning.

I wasn't in at the beginning.

My first recollection
of any problem with the IRS...

came about a month ago,

when George Arus,
my vice president,

stopped me in
the parking lot early one morning.

- We need to talk.
- What is it, George?

Well, something's wrong either
in accounting, or payroll,

or with our auditing firm.

- It just won't go away.
- Well, what does the IRS want?

The usual. Money.

I thought it was just
a misplaced decimal point,

some snafu that you didn't need
to be bothered about.

It's an awful lot of paperwork
for a misplaced decimal point.

That same morning I sat down
with Gail Manning,

she's head of accounting,

Richard Wellstood,
our in-house attorney,

and J.K. Davern,
sales and marketing exec.

How can the IRS want
two million dollars,

when we've already paid them?

What is going
on in the accounting department?

I don't know. And I've gone
over this with the IRS,

with our bank in St. Louis,
and with Spencer Prinz.

Who?

He's with the auditing firm
that handles...

the payroll in St. Louis.

We regularly deposit the
withholding taxes of the employees...

in St. Louis, and then there, the
money is passed along to the IRS.

Now, at the end of the fiscal year,
the IRS can't find...

the money we withheld
from the first two quarters.

Two million dollars.

It takes them several quarters
to catch up.

We're now in the fourth quarter,
and they want quarters one and two.

You're saying the IRS doesn't
have two quarter to rub together?

Neither will you, Richard.

Sorry, Edna.

But are you prepared to take
on the government in tax court...

to prove Aunt Edna
doesn't owe Uncle Sam?

Edna,

if this were my company,
now is not the time...

to challenge the IRS.

If you're planning a takeover,
thanks for the notice.

I started this firm on 500 bucks
and 24 hour work days.

No pointy headed bureaucrat
is going to make me...

roll over and play dead!

Then the government may very
well take the company away from you.

And the loan on the plant remodeling
comes due next month.

What does one thing have
to do with the other?

Edan, if you have to
pay the IRS twice,

there's no money
to repay the loan.

Yes, Dottie?

It's my ex-husband.

It's something supposedly important.
Would you excuse me?

Put him on, okay?

What is it, Nolan?
I'm a little busy now.

I hate to bother you, but it's
about our divorce settlement.

That's why it's called
a settlement,

because once and for all,
things are settled.

Thanks to me, you have been hunting
and fishing for the past three years.

My quarrel's not with you,
it's with the IRS,

and the consultancy fee you pay me.

You mean you're in hot water, too?

They're demanding that I pay taxes...

on a 300,000 dollar income.

300,000?

I thought that the deal we
worked out pays you only one.

Granted, your divorce
lawyer had me over a barrel,

but not in it.

Some fellow in your auditing
firm named Spencer Prinz...

is supposed to help me out,
but I keep missing him.

All right, I'll have Gail Manning
deal directly with you,

not with some nobody auditor.

Thanks.

Kind of romantic, isn't it.

You and me brought back
together by the IRS.

It's not exactly romantic, Nolan.

It's more like a shotgun wedding.

About a week later,
things came to a head,

when I confronted the IRS.

A faceless bureaucrat.

He had a face.
Your worst nightmare.

Mr. Hayes, stonewalling's not going
to get you anywhere.

Who's stonewalling?

I came from Jonesburg
of my own free will.

Nobody comes here from anywhere
of their own free will.

Look, I'm asking
for two million dollars.

In the past, I've been commended
by my superiors in Washington...

for exacting sums the size
of the annual budget...

of a third world nation.

Don't push me.

I've got a Senator friend
in Washington...

who can have you sharpening
pencils in a fourth world nation.

Look,

Mrs. Hayes has always
paid her fair share.

She employs 1500 people,
she supports the arts...

What do you do at
aunt Edna's Pies, Mr...?

He happens to be
one of my vice presidents.

- And chief morale officer?
- What's that supposed to mean?

Look, let's just
settle this whole thing...

before the lawyers make a killing.

Nothing personal, Mr. Wellstood.

He's right. With the loan almost due,
a settlement is worth exploring.

Absolutely not. That would
be admitting that I'm a thief.

You said it, not me.

I will see you in court, buster.

And if you, or any one
of your cronies,

has pocketed the money,

I'll also see you in jail!
Let's go, gentlemen.

- Then what happened?
- Then the phone rang.

It was you, at the airport.

We've known each other since
we were in college together.

I know that you did not
form this mini-empire...

by keeping two sets of books.

I'll fly in from wherever,
and when your case comes up,

I'll appear as your character witness.

Very kind of you, but it's going
to take more than kind words...

to get out of this mess.

And this is a picture of me
with a Congressman...

I helped reelect.

My campaign contributions
helped him buy a houseboat...

off the coast of Costa Rica.

And he never even sends me
a Christmas card.

Excuse me, Edna, Mrs. Fletcher.

I thought you'd like
to know Spencer Prinz,

the auditor from St. Louis,
was in this morning.

J.K. and I had a good session with
him and later he visits the IRS...

- with the payroll records.
- Better him than me.

- Thanks a lot.
- Sure.

- Nolan, good to see you.
- Richard.

Nolan!
What an unexpected...

Treat? Hardly befits one's ex,
but hello, Edna.

Jessica, it's been too long.

I'm truly sorry that things
didn't work out for you two.

Thanks.

Edna, I need to talk to you.

Alone, if you don't mind.

If this is about our tax problems,
Jessica knows all about it.

The IRS is really turning up
the heat on me.

Let me guess,
they want to cut a deal.

You divulge pillow talk,
and creative bookkeeping...

at the highest level,
and in return you're a free man.

You know I'm no hero,
but let's help each other.

Whatever you can give them,

our old returns, cancelled checks,

and if there's anything I can
turn over to you, call me anytime...

I shall, Nolan.

Do you have my car phone number?

My secretary has it.

Jessica, stay well.

What can I say?
It just didn't work out.

I imagine it was difficult
for him being Mr. Edna Hayes.

The problem was he
enjoyed being Mr. Edna Hayes.

We usually conclude our tour
with some dessert.

Please, no more pastries.

Where is he?
George, did you see Spencer Prinz?

No, sorry.

There he is.
Spencer!

You forgot the W-4 forms.

Wait up!

I'll walk you to your car.

This message for Edna was laying on
my desk when I came back from lunch.

- Is she around?
- Here I am.

- Can I help you?
- Yes. A message.

Thanks.

- What does he want now?
- The IRS?

No, it's Nolan. But he's
running them a close second...

for Headache of the Week.

- You'll excuse us.
- Thank, George.

Jessica, I'm afraid I won't be able
to take you to the concert tonight.

Don't worry about that.
I'll be perfectly fine.

But I feel awful, because I know
how much you love Sibelius,

and I asked them
to play "Findlandia."

- They take requests?
- We underwrite the season.

We have to keep
the string section in rosin.

Pardon me.
I just got the cupcake survey.

Could I ask you a big favor?

Could you take Jessica
to the concert tonight?

Be happy to.

Two of our bakers are in
the woodwind section.

They even read music.

He's dead.

No wallet on him.

The car is registered
to an Edna Hayes.

Dormitory rules
absolutely forbade cooking.

So when we baked brownies
in our room,

I hid them under the bed.

My mattress sagged and stuck
to the fudge topping.

And from this humble culinary
beginning, an empire was born.

Well, some of us have bosses
to face early tomorrow morning.

Thanks again for joining me
at the concert.

It's after eleven.
That's awfully late.

- Mrs. Hayes?
- Yes?

According to the registration,

Jaguar license place MCR 6475
is registered to you, is that right?

We have a company car that's leased,
you might say, to my ex-husband. Why?

There's been an accident
and the driver has no identification.

Could you come with us, please?

Is it Nolan?

We don't know.

- Is he hurt?
- Would you please come with us?

Yes, that's Nolan.

Lieutenant,
could you tell me what happened?

No secret,
the railroad tracks are a bad area.

Your husband was driving alone,

he got a flat,
took out a jack to change it,

some thug, thief or wino shot him
and took his wallet.

That's the way it looks.

Of all the times Nolan
thought he could change a tire,

in that neck of the woods.

Was gunfire overheard by anyone,
you know, a witness?

Nobody lives out there.
We couldn't find a soul.

Edna, you said,

"Of all times, Nolan
thought he could change a tire."

You knew Nolan.

He couldn't open a can,
let alone change a flat.

Which makes me think, if he couldn't
change a flat, why was the jack out?

Isn't that what you said, lieutenant?

There was no pay phone
or gas station around.

Mr. Hayes had to give it a try,
wouldn't you say?

Actually, no.
I certainly wouldn't say.

After lunch Nolan said that
you could reach him...

on his car phone.

Why didn't he stay
safely in his car,

and call the gas station
or the auto club?

You also said that
nobody lived out there.

So what was he doing driving
out there in the first place?

We plan to run ballistics
and fingerprint tests.

A lot of questions
will be answered then.

How long have you
and the deceased been divorced?

Three years.

Was the parting friendly?

These questions hardly come
under the heading...

- of ballistics or fingerprint tests.
- It's all right.

We each got what we wanted
out of the settlement.

Nolan got the farm, a car...

and an annual consultant's fee.

What did you get?

Well, I got rid of Nolan.

Right, doc, I got it.

Is that right?

It wasn't a nail, after all?

The tire was slashed?

Look, if you're one of those...

pain-in-the-tail
St. Louis reporters,

I still don't have a thing
on the Hayes murder.

I'm Field Director Yelverton,

Internal Revenue Service.

I'll call you back.

Mr. Yelverton, sir.
I thought my IRS problem was over.

They said they wouldn't
repossess my car if I...

Relax, Lieutenant.
I'm here about Nolan Hayes' murder.

The murder. Great!

Coffee? Decaf, tea?

I think we still have a Danish.

No, thank you.

Look, the IRS has lost
a key witness...

in its tax case
against Aunt Edna's Pies.

You may not be aware,
Mrs. Hayes...

owes us two million dollars.

Two million!

Well, I guess
repossessing her car is out.

- You catch on.
- You say Hayes was a witness?

Are you familiar
with the term "Judas goat"?

Sure. And Mrs. Hayes was going
to be the lamb chops.

I'd like to be the first
to hear of any developments.

Actually, sir,
the IRS has no jurisdiction...

in the Hayes' murder.

Are you still driving that '84 Buick?

I'll be in touch.

Thanks for helping
with Nolan's funeral arrangements.

- He had no one, you know.
- I know.

Mrs. Hayes,
I'd like to have a word with you.

As it goes along with some things
you mentioned, Mrs. Fletcher,

- you can join us.
- Right this way.

Did you know your ex was going
to testify against you in tax court?

I'm not surprised.

But you're wasting your time
if you think I had motive to kill him.

It's only an IRS claim that
Mrs. Hayes owes any money.

Sounds to me like
you don't own a car.

My department found blood...

on the Jaguar's rear seat,
and the flat tire got that way...

because of a six inch knife slash.

What are you saying?

That Nolan was killed elsewhere?

About 9 o'clock,
and driven to the tracks.

What about the ballistic tests
that you were going to run?

Waiting word on them now.

I'm questioning everyone he knew,
their whereabouts last night.

Miss Manning,
Mr. Arus and Wellstood were...

at home, they say.

JK. Davern was at a concert,
with you, Mrs. Fletcher, I believe.

That's right.

And what about you?
Where were you last night at nine?

I was home alone.

- Is that so?
- Yeah,

I got home around 7:30.
I was waiting for Nolan.

He called the office that afternoon,
said he'd be come home...

by nine. He obviously didn't.

And then Jessica and J.K.
returned about 10:30.

By yourself from 7:30 to 10:30.
That about it?

Can anybody vouch for you, Edna?

A phone call you got? Somebody who
wanted to borrow a cup of something?

Yes, the doorbell rang about nine.

I don't know where he was from,
but it was some delivery man.

He had the wrong house
and he left.

I see.

A delivery man you don't know,
from a place you don't know...

didn't drop anything off
at around nine.

Look, lieutenant,

if I thought I needed an alibi,
I would have invited him in.

There may be
a few more questions, so please.

I have a company to run.

You know exactly
where you can find me.

I'll be in touch.

Let me get you a car
to take you to St. Louis.

I don't want you to have to postpone
your radio interview on my account.

You have got very
important business to attend to.

Stalling the loan company.
it'll just bore you to death.

I mean Nolan's death,
and your alibi, or lack of it.

You don't really think
that I need an alibi?

It's not important what I think.

Lieutenant Phillips is a man
with a mission. It's his job.

This delivery man, was there a sign
on the side of the van?

Was he wearing a uniform
from some store?

I don't know, the doorbell rang.

I was expecting Nolan, but
I live alone and you never know.

So I said, "Who is it?"

The voice said,
"Delivery for 485 North Plainview."

I realized he had
the wrong address so I said,

"This is 485 South Plainview
and I head him walk away."

I knew he was lost so I opened
the door,

he was in the shadows by the curb.

I pointed out the right way,
he thanked me and left.

But I could never describe him.

Well it's a start.

It is?

Yes, I did get a delivery
the night before last, a pizza.

And where did the pizza come from?

Sons of Sicily, "We deliver".

I was cold enough
to have come from Palermo.

Thanks very much.

Come on Marty.
I got Calzone's on the thing!

Sons of Sicily, this is Sal,
what can I do for you?

Good evening.
My name is Jessica Fletcher.

What's your address?

Actually,
I'm calling about a delivery man.

Two nights ago,
he went to 485 North Plainview.

Great, if this is another
complaint about Benny getting lost,

- I fired the guy this morning.
- That's too bad.

So what kind of pizza do you want?

Actually I want Benny's last name
and a phone number, if you have one.

What do I sound like,
a dating service?

Well?

Looks as if Benny's lost again.

Mrs. Fletcher, Mrs. Hayes...

- You certainly put in a full day!
- Your tax dollars at work.

Mrs. Hayes,
do you happen to own a gun?

Guns frighten me,
I wouldn't have one in the house.

Our ballistics report came through.
A.38 caliber killed your husband.

I see.

We may not be big city
police like up in St. Louis,

but we know
how to read state records.

A.38 is registered in your name.
Bought about three years ago.

Hayes is a very common name.
Reread your records.

Would you mind if I had
a word alone with Mrs. Hayes?

Why not?

This isn't the dorm-mother asking...

why we're late for curfew,
it's the police.

Sure. You don't think that
I killed Nolan?

Of course not.

If you tell me that you don't own
a gun, I'll believe it, too.

I cooperated with the IRS
and where did it get me?

I could get a search warrant.

It won't be necessary.

After the divorce,
living along in this big house,

I thought I should have it.
I never fired it.

I'm sorry I lied to you.

I haven't been myself lately.

One bullet has been fired,
pretty recently, too.

- Are you sure?
- Don't take an expert. Smell.

I don't understand it.

I never fired that gun.

I have to read you your rights,
Mrs. Hayes.

I've got a 3x5 card someplace
with the exact words.

This is ridiculous.

You can't charge
Mrs. Hayes with murder.

It's kind of funny

Before running into you, I was
content with "flat tire and robbery".

Here you go, fresh brewed just
a few minutes ago.

And I brought you some
extra butter for that Danish.

Even from behind bars,
Mrs. Hayes must pay her taxes.

Selling pies from stir won't be easy.

She won't have to lift a finger,
we'll do it for her.

Has a nice ring.
Uncle Sam's Baked Goods.

I'd like to visit Mrs. Hayes.

Will you fill this out, please?

- Yes.
- Thank you.

- Mrs. Fletcher.
- Yes.

I've been looking forward to
meeting you, I've read your stuff.

Gerald Yelverton, IRS field director.

You've got a hell of an imagination,
if my opinion counts.

Thank you. Which one
of my books have you read?

Your books?
I'm talking about your tax return.

Nothing personal.
Mrs. Hayes has to pay what she owes.

If she owes it.

It occurred to me, if you write
this trip off as a business expense...

the big stores and TV stations are...

in Kansas City and
St. Louis and not around here.

I was under
the impression that what I did...

or didn't write off
was my business.

A common misconception.

Excuse me, lieutenant.

Mrs. Fletcher, still friends I hope.

Lieutenant,

This morning I spoke to Edna's
attorney who said...

that Edna's gun had been wiped
clean of fingerprints.

So, she wiped them off.

Isn't that what you'd do
after you'd shot someone?

I would've thrown the gun away,
not left it...

by my bed for the police to find.

But if I had been foolish enough
to keep it,

what difference would it make
if my fingerprints were on my gun?

Prints or no prints, it was her gun
and I'm proceeding accordingly.

That pizza being delivered,
is it from Sons of Sicily?

No, we usually call Mr. Pizzazz.

And besides those two...

about how many other pizza
places are there in Jonesville?

I don't know, two or three more.

- You hungry?
- Yes, for an alibi.

Would you have a telephone
directory I could look at?

- Right here.
- Thanks.

What are you up to?

I've decided I would like
to order some pizza.

If I can find the right man
to deliver it.

Here's Alberto Pizza Emporium,
we deliver.

We'll start there.
If we're lucky, we'll find Benny...

working for the competition.

Thanks to Mrs. Fletcher,

we found Benny delivering
for the competition.

Check off this box,
we'll return your purse and things.

I was just doing my job, Mrs. Hayes.
You understand.

- Your job?
- His job, Edna.

The way it looks,
a damn clever killer saw to it that...

you were left to twist slowing
in the wind without an alibi.

I helped him, making Jessica go
to the concert with J.K.

- Gail.
- Yes?

The other day, you gave Edna
a message that Nolan had called.

Right.

- How did he sound?
- Sound?

Was he nervous, upset?

I didn't actually speak with Nolan,

there was a message on my desk
when I got back from lunch.

Who put it there? Your secretary?

I don't think so. Patty had
a dentist appointment that day.

She left early, took a long lunch.

So anybody could have put it
on your desk.

Possibly as part of an attempt
to frame Edna for murder.

It could have been Spencer Prinz,
he's the auditor from St. Louis.

He doesn't come here very often,
but when he does...

he usually works through
lunch when nobody's around.

- Maybe he took the call.
- I'm sure that's what happened.

I told Spencer to use you desk
during lunch because...

he had to go over
some payroll records.

An outside auditor has to get
a phone and desk wherever he can.

Where is this Spencer Prinz?

Probably going back to St. Louis,
he was here a minute ago.

This is almost funny.

If Edna's predicament
wasn't so serious.

What is.

This mysterious Mr. Prinz.

The other day he was here
during lunch, nobody saw him.

Now he's on his way back to St. Louis.

That's where his home office is.

I admit I did catch a glimpse of him,
but the fact is everybody...

sees Spencer Prinz except me.

A little birdie didn't bring
these checks from St. Louis.

- Than you did see him?
- Let me think.

- No.
- He gave the checks to me.

The police and
the IRS have both talked to Spencer...

in their offices.

If his car is still here,
you can talk to him too.

Spencer!

Spencer!

There he is.

There he goes.

Gail, get Spencer's home number
and address in St. Louis.

- Yes, sir.
- J.K...

we're going to be late
for that sales meeting.

This is really brutal.

If we pay the loan,
we can't pay the IRS.

If we pay the IRS again,
we can't repay the loan.

Computers, electronic banking,
auditors.

It was simpler when people
actually dealt with money.

These days,
nobody knows a damn thing.

Maybe there is somebody.

Somebody who gets paid
to know everything.

Mrs. Fletcher,
this is indeed a pleasure.

I must say in my 20 years of service,
you're the first person...

to drop in voluntarily.

Thanks. I must confess,
I'm still a little uncomfortable.

Every taxpayer is.
Even relatively honest ones.

Please, sit down.

And unburden yourself
of those two martini lunches...

you used to call "business". I'm
sure we can straighten everything out.

I didn't come here
about my tax returns.

Really?

I'm trying to track down
a man named Spencer Prinz.

Everybody sees and talks
to him but me.

And I need your help.

My help?
Goodness.

Nobody ever asks for my help.

I was told that Spencer Prinz met
with you.

I summoned him with the books
from Aunt Edna's Baked Goods.

Naturally, he complied,
they all comply

What was he like?

Like all of them. Nervous,
sweaty, afraid to look me...

in the eye. But harmless.

Quiet fellow with glasses and bowtie.

You don't think that cog
in the wheel actually pulled off...

a two million dollar tax swindle
and a murder, too?

Far be it for me to ask you to snoop,

but you want two million dollars,

and the police want
a dangerous killer.

When you think about it,
isn't that the way the IRS...

helped the police
finally nail Al Capone?

Scarface, Al Capone.

Those were the days.

Prinz...

let's see what we've got.

This isn't snooping.
This is T-Men in action.

Social security number.

These were
the years he was filing his taxes...

when he was resident in Illinois,
85, 86, up to 87.

I don't like this.

I don't like this at all.

He paid us every cent he owed us.

And filed early each year.

Here's where he transferred to the
auditing firm in St. Louis a year ago.

My mistake.

Wait a minute.

I've lost him.

- In St. Louis?
- Hold on!

Spencer Prinz!

It's not my mistake.
We don't make mistakes.

- It's not lost.
- You found him.

No, you found him for us.

He didn't file this year.

Of course he hasn't. Not someone
who's embezzled two million dollars.

For once, I tend to agree with you.

Excellent.

I'm sure Spencer Prinz will be
easier to jail than Al Capone.

I wouldn't count on that.

First you'll have to find him.

Of course I'm overextended.

But you know what
this business is worth.

All I'm asking for is a short-term...

Yes.

There are jobs at stake here.

I won't throw these people out
of work.

You just have your meeting
with the loan committee,

and call me
when they turn me down.

Even Roy, huh?

That parsimonious jerk.
I don't know how the bank...

stays afloat with him in charge.

Where's Jessica?

I thought you two would go over
the books.

She went to St.
Louis with that police lieutenant.

She's got it in her head,

that he's a figment
of someone's imagination.

I have to tell you...

I'm beginning to agree with her.

He isn't here. What else is new?

Certainly looks as if he had quite
a party last night.

Poker. A bunch of slobs.

Chips on the floor,
rings on the table.

That's what I get paid to do.

When is that last time you saw him?

See him?
I never see him.

- Never?
- No.

A few months ago when he hired me,
but since then never.

He's always working whenever I'm here.

He leaves me an envelope
with cash on that table.

I see. And what does he look like?

I don't know...

Medium size, medium build,

glasses, mustache,

and he wore a bowtie.

Mrs. Fletcher...

looks like Prinz is our man after all.

Look, Hayes' wallet, credit cards.
Driver's license.

But this makes no sense.

If you embezzle two million dollars,

why would you steal
a wallet but keep it laying around?

It wasn't laying around.
It was hidden.

I'm putting out an APB
on Spencer Prinz.

White male, glasses, moustache,
and bowtie.

I'll also have the local police
both stake out here and the airport.

If it's not too late.

This is like cramming for finals.

Yes, but there's no way
of making it up in summer school.

If we don't find the hidden money
by tomorrow morning,

It must be a power failure.

But this light is on.

Don't move, ladies.

Put your hands up.

And step back.

The ghost returns.

Spencer Prinz, I presume.

That's right.

I'll relieve you of this slightly
incriminating volume and be on my way.

You did steal the money, didn't you?

Yes, and I was forced
to kill your ex-husband.

He found out what I was doing.

A foolish and greedy man.

Now don't force me to use this again.

Step into the closet.

He's gone.

I'll call 911.

Get a hold lieutenant
Phillips right away...

and have him come to Edna's factory.

Tell him we have found
Spencer Prinz and that he is armed.

Be careful.

- Come on.
- The man has a gun!

That was a shot!

Richard, what happened?

I came by
to help you go through the books.

I saw Spencer running toward me.

He had a gun.

He told me to freeze.

As he was going by me
to get in his car...

I don't know where I got the courage,
I tackled him.

We fought for his gun.

And it went off.

I've never even held a gun.

In my life.

Much less, kill a man.

That's odd, look at his hair.

It looks like a wig.

It's J.K. Davern.

He was Spencer Prinz?
He killed Nolan?

This is unbelievable.

He had me completely fooled.

When you think about it,
it makes perfect sense.

J.K. designed our computer marketing,
and billing.

Our payroll systems.

He could have easily
buried two million dollars.

Edna, the gun. Please pick it up.

Be careful with that, Edna.

I want you to cover Richard.

Cover me?
That's ridiculous.

- What?
- Now! Do it!

If you say so.

Don't be absurd!

I shot Prinz, I mean J.K.,
but it was self defense.

- Obviously.
- No, Richard.

What is obvious has
finally got through to me.

Unless my eyes are totally gone,

the gun you said that
you picked up from J.K...

is not the same gun that
was pointed at us inside.

Of course it is.

It was less than a minute.

From the time we heard
the shot until we got here.

30 seconds isn't much time
to hide a gun.

I know guns.

Especially when one's pointed at me.

And I'm staring down its barrel.

There are two guns there, Wellstood,
how do you explain that?

I don't.

What must have happened
is Spencer Prince, sorry, J.K...

left the bakery, pocketed the gun...

and then was shot by
Richard point blank.

Richard hid J.K.'s gun in the waste
barrel and tried to make us believe...

the gun he brought was the one...

- J.K. threatened us with.
- Total nonsense.

I don't deny shooting Spencer Prinz,

but I was as surprised an anyone
to learn he was really J.K. Davern.

No.

I think that you and J.K.
tried out...

the fictitious Spencer Prinz
one more time for my benefit.

Jessica was
the only one curious enough...

to want a face
to face encounter with him.

It seemed odd that
the outside auditor's appearances...

at Edna's company were limited,

and always verified by you, Richard.
Or by J.K.

In other words, it took two men
to create the third employee.

An illusive man, with an apartment,
a maid,

a car and a passion for bowties.

My first glimpse of Spencer
Prinz was from quite a distance...

when you called to him that
he'd forgot the W-4 forms.

And offered to walk him to his car.

A few days later when my
curiosity about Spencer Prinz grew...

this time it was you, Richard,
who dressed up as Spencer.

J.K. tried to stop Spencer
before he drove back to St. Louis.

But as usual,
we were all a few steps behind.

And as usual, either you or your
partner were vouching for him.

The catch was that no one ever
saw all three of you together.

There's something wrong, Jessica.

J.K. escorted you to the concert,
the night that Nolan was killed.

So he couldn't have killed Nolan.

Yet he confessed the murder
to us that night in our office.

Yes, but when he confessed,
he didn't know...

that he would be double-crossed.

Lieutenant,
you can't take any of this seriously.

That's where you're wrong. I buy
it and I think the D.A. will too.

Would you like
to call your lawyer now?

Or maybe you'd like
to tell us how it happened.

He might go easier on you.

Damn it.

We were so close.

Only J.K.
and I knew the real Spencer Prinz,

who was about to transfer from
Chicago to St. Louis a year ago.

A week before he was due to arrive,

he died of a heart attack.

That's when we hatched
the scheme to steal...

the tax deposits by
keeping Spencer alive.

When the fiscal year was up,
Spencer would disappear with no trace...

taking with him all the blame.

- And two million dollars.
- Okay,

- but why did you have to kill Nolan.
- J.K. got greedy.

He forged a $200,00 payroll check to
Nolan who and cashed it to himself.

I figured it would take the IRS
forever to catch up with the problems...

It didn't.

Nolan was desperate for answers.

So after getting the runaround
from Spencer Prinz by phone,

he came to our office
to see Spencer in person.

One of the secretaries must
have told him Prinz just left.

Nolan tried to catch up to him.

J.K. was taking his turn as Spencer.

Getting into the rental car to
pretend to drive back to St. Louis,

His wig was
accidentally knocked loose.

As he replaced it,
he didn't see Nolan staring at him.

Observing the metamorphosis.

Nolan turned and ran back inside.

That's when he made
his fatal mistake.

He came directly to me and said,

"No wonder
Edna was having problems,

never mind two sets of books,

her company has
two sets of employees."

- We had to act quickly.
- Of course.

And since Nolan was making waves
for Edna,

why not frame her for the murder.

We set up the bogus telephone
message leaving Edna without an alibi.

I went to her house,
entered through a rear window,

and took the gun we all
new she kept in her drawer.

I drove out to Nolan's farm.
I called in to him.

He came out.

Surprised to see me.

I shot him.

Put his body in the car.

Drove to the tracks,
took out the jack,

made it all look like a flat tire
and robbery.

I returned the gun to your house...

while you were with the police.

Once Mrs. Fletcher got you off
the hot seat, and became suspicious...

of Spencer Prinz...

we shifted the blame
from embezzlement and murder,

to the perfect fall guy.

The man who didn't exist.

We came close.

The IRS has billions.

Edna has millions.

J.K. and me, we just...

wanted a piece of the pie.

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