All language subtitles for MSW - S09E08 - The Classic Murder

Oh!

If the government pulls
the rug out from under us,

this whole thing
could fall to pieces.

Jessica, this is Marika Valenti.

Marika here's helped the police solve
several murders with her psychic powers.

Daddy's disappeared.

I have a terrible feeling
he's not coming back.

An intruder opens the door
and quietly comes into the room.

There was definitely a
woman here last night.

Tell me about $150 million.

Don't you realize that breaking into
privileged files is a form of stealing?

He's dead. Buck is dead.

No!

Ever since I found
out, I've been in shock.

Well, I can certainly
understand that.

When I was your age, I wanted
desperately to be completely independent.

I wanna be a really
good book editor.

And I wanted to
be a good teacher.

Yeah, but your father
didn't buy the school.

Mine's negotiating to
buy the publishing house.

Which would make
him my publisher.

And my boss.

Goodbye credibility.
Once again, I'd be a rich kid

dabbling in one of
Daddy's companies.

Well, I can certainly testify

for your excellence
as an editor.

And as you know, I'm
not that easy to please.

Simon Legree in a skirt.

Maybe not that bad.

Are you sure you don't mind having
dinner with Daddy? He was so insistent.

Of course not. Certainly not. I'm
looking forward to meeting your father.

He just bought the
Lazy L steakhouse chain,

and he's opening one
in New York City tonight.

That's where we're
going to meet him. Oh!

I've eaten in a Lazy L, and they have a
very nice, down-home, family atmosphere.

Very nice.

Daddy's changed the
name to Buck's Buckaroo.

I'm not sure the atmosphere's gonna
be quite the same as you remember.

Open wide, Mr. Wilson!

You are so right. The
Lazy L was never like this.

I should have warned you. Wow.

Dad!

One more.

Daddy! Daddy!

Oh, hi, baby!

How is my little girl?

Just fine.

This here is Molly. Molly,
this is my daughter, Sally.

Hi. Hello.

And you just got to
be Jessica Fletcher.

And you just got
to be Buck Wilson.

Sally must've told you. I'm thinking
about buying your publishing house.

Well, as you well know,
Mr. Wilson, it's not mine to sell.

Of course not. Else,
come next Friday,

you'd be richer by $19 million.

And that's just
the down payment.

Buck, we've been looking all
over for you. Haven't we, George?

Well, just about. Hello, Sally!

Why, sugar, I didn't know
you were gonna be here.

Don't you look wonderful?

Jessica, this is my Uncle
George and Aunt Janine Foster.

This is Mrs. Fletcher.

Hello.

How do you do? Nice to meet you.

George! Did you make sure the
'36 Caddy'd get to Pasadena in time

for the classic car show?

Yes, sir. It was picked up this
afternoon, and it's on its way.

Buck, I gotta talk
to you for a minute.

Excuse us, ladies.

Leave it to George to
interrupt pleasure with business.

I'm sorry, but these rumors keep
growing about a possible investigation

into the corporation's
financial affairs.

Let them investigate.
I got nothing to hide.

Well, it's certainly colorful
compared to the Lazy L.

The word is garish,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Buck has this publicity
woman to think up gimmicks,

and this time it's a phony psychic
to predict incredible success

for the Buckaroo chain.

Yes. I think I read about that in a
Wall Street paper. Maria something?

Marika.

Buck, we are not that protected.

If the government pulls
the rug out from under us,

this whole thing
could fall to pieces.

I gotta say, it wasn't the right time
to buy this damn white elephant.

Here, George. This little lady'll
take your mind off your troubles.

Who's your friend, cowboy?

Just feed the boy, darlin'.

All you have to do is open your
mouth, George. Molly does the rest.

Come on, Jessica.

There's somebody
I want you to meet.

Open up.

There you go.

Open up again.

I see a handsome man from Oklahoma
with a stylish woman from Maine

bearing a remarkable resemblance
to the writer, J.B. Fletcher.

Am I close?

Right on the money. This
woman has second sight.

Are you sure you didn't see
our reflections in your crystal ball?

Jessica, this is Marika Valenti.

She doesn't need that prop
crystal ball. She's a real psychic.

Well, I'm very
pleased to meet you.

I've been looking forward to it.

We have something in common.

Marika here's helped the police solve
several murders with her psychic powers.

I keep tellin' Marika she should
write about her experiences.

I bet you could help her on
that, couldn't you, Jessica?

Well, now, I'm not sure...

So, this is where you
went! Hello, Marika.

Forecasting the
future of steakhouses?

Next thing you know, you'll be writing
a column for the Wall Street Journal.

Try the filet, honey. I had it flown
in from Fort Worth this afternoon.

Doggone it, we ought to
see each other more often.

Well, I hope that's not why you're
tryin' to buy that publishing company.

Would that be so terrible?
This old boy's about had it.

I'm gonna have my driver
run me up to Westchester.

I know you're very busy, Jessica.
Thanks for makin' the time to stop by.

I enjoyed it.

Bye now. Take care of yourself.

Bye, Daddy.

So long, Marika.

And remember, the fates have
gotta be with Buck's Buckaroo.

There's a roomful
of rich investors here,

and rich investors
want happy futures.

I trade in the
futures, Mr. Wilson.

Good night. Good night.

Good night.

Let's get out of here, Jessica.

Yeah. And find somewhere
quiet for a light dinner.

I like your father, but I'm not
sure about his taste in restaurants.

Sally! Mrs. Fletcher...

Hi, B.J. We were just leaving.

Why? I mean, I thought Daddy
was going to meet you for dinner.

Oh, so did we, but he said
he was tired and went home.

How long ago?

Oh, just a minute ago.

He went out back. Probably
to avoid all these people.

Thanks. Well, what's the rush?

You'll see him in the
office tomorrow morning.

Can't wait.

Mr. Wilson?

Mrs. Oates, well, you nearly
scared the life out of me.

Well, I'm sorry, but I heard
someone moving about.

I was just fixing
myself a nightcap.

And a little snack.

I thought you went to
Poughkeepsie to see a friend.

Oh, I was going to,
but my friend got sick.

Weren't you intending
to stay in the city tonight?

I changed my mind.

Oh. Will Mr. and Mrs. Foster
be changing their plans, too?

No, they're stayin' over.
I just didn't feel too good.

Well, why don't you go up
to bed and I'll just bring your...

Well, because I don't want you to.
Now, damn it, go on. I'll handle this.

Good night, then, Mr. Wilson.

Good night, Mrs. Oates.

You can get out now,
Janine. We're home.

Don't tell me what to do. Eating
junk food out of that girl's hand.

Did it do something
for your manhood?

Then you left me standing there
like a fool while you disappeared.

I told you I saw Buck
heading for the door

and I wanted to talk
to him before he left!

Keep your voice down.

Why?

There's nobody here but us.

Buck probably has a little
something cooking in town.

But you don't want to
know about that, do you?

Oh, grow up!

Mr. Wilson?

Mr. Wilson?

Mr. Wilson?

Mr. Wilson?

Mr. Wilson, are you
coming down to breakfast?

Buck! You decent?

Where's my brother?

I don't know. He didn't come
down to breakfast this morning.

He has steak and eggs every
morning when he's home. Except today.

What is goin' on? Buck
never drops towels on the floor.

What is this ashtray doing here?

Buck quit smoking 30 years ago.

Mrs. Oates, take a look at
this. Tell me what you see.

Lipstick.

And then I thought, "Why
shouldn't Cynthia Louise

"put her husband's
body in the freezer?"

That's Page 94
in the manuscript.

Hang on a second, here.
You've got an advantage over me.

You wrote this. Takes
me a little longer.

Here we go. Oh, yes,
this is much better.

I must say, I much prefer workin'
in your apartment than in my office.

It's nice to get away from the feelin'
that Daddy's lookin' over my shoulder.

You know, Sally, I'm not sure that
your relationship with your father

is in as much trouble
as you seem to think it is.

Well, you can't
judge from last night.

Daddy's a charmer, but he
can't stand not gettin' his own way.

Anyway, enough of that.

I'm ready to go over the
last chapter if you are.

Well, you know, I think I've
solved that nasty little problem.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Oh, good morning, B.J.

I'm sorry to disturb you, Jessica, but
Sally's office said she was with you.

Yes. She is. Hang on.

Beej, is everything okay?

No. Daddy's disappeared.

What do you mean, disappeared?

I mean, he's vanished
from the face of the Earth.

Oh, Sally, I am so
glad that you're here.

Has anyone heard from Daddy?

Not a word.

Oh, Jessica, this is Mrs. Oates.

She brought me up
after my mother died.

Hello.

I saw B.J.'s car
in the driveway.

Oh, he just went toward
the garage with Tom Jarrow.

Tom practically lived here when
he was B.J.'s grade school buddy.

Come in.

Carl, did you happen to
see Mr. Wilson this morning?

No, I didn't.

When did you see him last?

Last night when I
drove him home.

Uh-huh. We got back
from the city about 10:30.

Who was he with?

Nobody. He was alone.

Stop anywhere along the way?

Once, at a gas station.
The limo was running low.

Was a woman waiting for him?

No. All we picked up
was a full tank of gas.

Was the woman already here
when you got back to the house?

I didn't see any woman.
Mr. Wilson went into the house alone.

And then what did you do, Carl?

I drove the limo back
here and parked it.

Mr. Wilson take the
limo out last night?

No, the keys were on
my dresser in my room.

They were still
there this morning.

He could have driven one
of the other cars. Open it up.

Oh, boy, B.J. You
remember when we were kids,

pretending we were
driving these beauties?

It was perfect.

Yep.

One thing's for sure, he
would have been noticed

if he'd driven away
in one of those.

And Daddy sure as hell
wasn't one for walkin'.

Janine is up in her room
with a cold compress.

I've been on the
phone all morning,

but nobody at the office
has heard from him, either.

There are a lot of important matters
that can't be resolved without Buck.

Well, can't you take care
of them, Uncle George?

You have some
authority in the company.

Not enough. Buck doesn't
like to share it with anybody.

Here we are, Tom. The brat.

Hello, Sally.

Old Tom was afraid you
wouldn't remember him.

Not remember the man I had a
tremendous crush on when I was 10?

Uncle George, I'd like to talk
business with you in the den.

It's about time somebody wanted
to talk business. Excuse us, please.

Tom Jarrow, I want you
to meet Mrs. Fletcher.

Hello, Tom.

The mystery
writer. I'm a big fan.

Well, thank you. Did you
find anything out back?

The chauffeur swore he
drove Buck home alone.

I saw two brandy glasses
on the tray in Buck's bedroom

and lipstick on a
cigarette in his bathroom.

There was definitely a
woman here last night.

I wonder if it was the
waitress from the steakhouse.

She seemed like his type.

What type is that?

Good-looking women
who call him "cowboy."

You know her name?

Molly, but he
called her "darlin'."

That's what he calls
most women he likes.

Well, I'm sure the steakhouse
would have her name on file, right?

Why don't I give them a call, since I
need to get back to the office, anyway?

Okay, I'll walk you out.

It's not like Buck to take off
without tellin' me when he'll be back.

Well, maybe he left in a
hurry and didn't know when.

Without his wallet,
his watch or his keys?

I have a terrible feeling
he's not coming back.

B.J., if your dad knew that
you had been hacking around

in the corporation's computer
files, he'd skin you alive.

I was going to tell him myself
last night at the steakhouse,

but he ran off before I had
a chance to talk with him.

Don't you realize that breaking into
privileged files is a form of stealing?

I had to!

What with the rumors
of an investigation...

Hell, Uncle George, the Wall
Street Journal was calling every day.

And Daddy's good friend, the
Senator, wouldn't return my phone calls

even when I used his name. I
had to find out how deep it went

and what the
committee might find.

It's bad, Uncle George. I
couldn't understand half of it,

but one thing I do understand
is that huge sums of money

were shifted from every
arm of this company.

Look, some kind of complicated
transactions require extreme measures.

Now, your dad has been
negotiating with that publishing house.

Don't you get it, Uncle George?

This has nothing to
do with negotiations.

Now, a grand
total of $150 million

has been electronically transferred
into several different bank accounts.

And that money,
in turn, was recently

withdrawn in the form of
cash and bearer bonds.

You better be careful
what you're saying.

Well, it's one hell of a
coincidence, don't you think?

Both Daddy and the
money disappearing

just when the entire corporate structure's
about to go smack down the toilet.

B.J., I hope that you are not stupid enough
to think that your father could possibly

do anything that
would ruin all of us.

Do it?

Uncle George, he's done it.

I got it, Mrs. Oates!

Marika.

I had to come.

I had a premonition something
happened to your brother.

Premonition?

I wondered why he was so eager
to have us meet. Now I understand.

He too had a premonition. He knew
that we would have to work together

to solve this mystery.

Well, I'm not sure that I...

Jessica, you must. Please.

I don't understand
what she's doin'.

Well, she is looking for the
right object to use in psychometry.

I don't think I ever heard
that word before in my life.

Well, it has to do
with using an object to

divine something about
the person who owns it.

He's dead. Buck is dead.

Oh, no.

No!

Mrs. Oates. I was asked to invite you to a
demonstration of psychometry in the lanai.

Oh, yes. Thank you.
I'm crazy about that stuff.

Oh, I don't think you've met
Carl Graham, Mr. Wilson's driver.

This is Jessica Fletcher,
a friend of Sally's.

Yeah.

How do you do, Carl?
I'd like to ask you, too...

Haven't I answered
enough questions?

I didn't drive a woman here last night,
I didn't drive one away this morning.

Look, I was only going to ask you
if you'd like to join us in the lanai.

Marika Valenti, the psychic, made a point
of asking that everyone should be there.

I got better ways
to waste my time.

What got into him? He never
even touched his apple pie.

I want absolute silence, so I can focus
my thoughts on Buck's favorite photograph.

Don't be alarmed by anything I
might say. Please don't cry out,

or my concentration
will be broken.

I see Buck asleep in his bed.

An intruder opens the door
and quietly comes into the room.

I cannot see a face.

I sense that the intruder is
someone with a guilty secret,

and in the right hand,
a gun with a silencer.

Buck senses the danger
and wakes. He starts to get up.

The intruder fires. Buck
falls back on the bed.

The intruder uses a pillow
case to mop up the blood,

then tosses it under the bed.

The intruder lifts Buck's
body and carries him out,

like one might carry a child.

I feel the presence
of someone else.

Someone in the bathroom,
listening. A witness to the murder.

Jessica, have I
given you enough?

Is there any more to tell?

Yes, but I find myself turning from
it with dread, wanting it not to be so.

We must hear it all.

I see a chamber in the ground.

So very dark, so very cold.

A grave. But not
an ordinary grave.

A deep shaft, a well.

An old well.

Buck's body is thrown
there by the killer.

Now, I don't believe
this! My father is alive.

Shh! You'll break
her concentration.

I don't give a damn.

Sally, wait a minute.

I've had enough of these
horrible party games!

Tom, she's talking about
the old well. I know where it is.

There's a picture
of it in the den.

Show me.

An oil well.

Look what he wrote
on it, in the corner.

"First gusher. Tulsa, 1950."
An old well. Daddy's first.

Yeah, but you don't seriously
think somebody killed your father

and brought his body back to an Oklahoma
oil field in the middle of the night.

Maybe. The corporate jet's
only 10 minutes from here.

I checked it out as soon as you said
he was missing. The jet's still there.

Your father never came
near it, dead or alive.

But you don't believe
he's dead, do you?

No. Why?

I have my reasons.

Psychometric readings. They
always give me a migraine.

It was very impressive. I can
certainly see how your special talents

could help the police to solve
murders, wherever that was.

London. Scotland Yard had
called me in several times.

How absolutely fascinating. And
did you locate victims or murderers?

How can you ask me
so many questions?

Can't you see I'm suffering?

Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just that
this subject is so interesting to me.

Please excuse me. I have
the need of some fresh air.

That awful woman. Jessica,
I'm sorry for runnin' out like that.

No need to be. I almost ran out
with you. But something puzzles me.

Sally, did your father have
any maps of this property?

There's no indication
of a well on the property.

You sound disappointed.

I wanted to find it and
prove that Marika was wrong.

Have you got a magnifying glass?

Thanks.

Yes. Just as I thought.

Did you find a well?

No, but I found something else.

A circle with a "C" in it. We'll meet
Tom here first thing in the morning.

I called the steakhouse and got
the telephone number of the waitress.

What'd she say?

After work she went home with her
husband who's a pastry chef in the kitchen.

Apparently harmless
flirting with the customers

was all part of the fun
at Buck's Buckaroo.

It's right here.

What is it? The old well?

No, it's not a well, it's a
cistern for storing rain water,

according to the map.

Let's have a look.

Oh!

Marika.

It wasn't some stranger who sneaked
up on her while she was talking a walk.

She was shot at close
range through the heart.

Apparently, she knew everyone in the house,
including Buck's driver, Carl Graham.

In fact, I invited him to join
us at the reading last night,

but when I mentioned
Marika Valenti's name,

he bolted out of the
room, white as a sheet.

Didn't even touch the food that
Mrs. Oates had set out for him.

Maybe he was afraid
that she'd contradict his lie.

What lie was that?

Well, I listened carefully to
Marika's so-called reading last night.

I think that she was the woman
in Buck Wilson's bathroom.

I mean, not even a psychic
could divine that much detail.

Then Carl must have driven her
back up here last night with Buck.

He lives right
next to the garage.

You can see it from here.

I imagine that he
can see us, too.

Carl, it's Police
Sergeant Tom Jarrow.

Can you open the door, please?

I knew you were coming.

Yeah, I see. But I guess you were
hoping you'd be out of here first, right?

I swear on my mother's
grave, I didn't kill that woman.

How did you know it
was a woman, Carl,

considering I didn't mention it?

I saw from my window when
her body was being recovered.

And why did you lie
about driving her here?

Well, Mr. Wilson told
me not to tell anybody.

He's always been good
to me. I do what he says.

Had you ever driven the
Valenti woman up here, before?

No.

But Mr. Wilson was seeing her?

Yeah, he usually met
her at a New York hotel.

Last night he thought he'd
have the house to himself.

And you took her back to the
city early yesterday morning?

I was supposed to, but she
asked me to drop her at a motel

a couple of miles from here.

I was glad I didn't have
to make the round trip.

What do you got, Steve?

I turned the room inside
out. No murder weapon.

All right. Read him his rights, take
him in and get a signed statement.

Got it.

What do you think
of the Valenti woman?

Evidently she was a psychic
who made house calls.

Which reminds me, I have
a phone call to make myself.

You don't know what you're
talking about. Just try to listen.

I don't want to hear any
more. Could you do that?

Because you've got a
reality problem! Oh, God!

You know... Ooh. Watch it.

Did you hear him, Jessica?

Well, I heard raised voices and I
believe that one of them was yours.

Sally, I'd keep
this in the family.

My brother has lost his mind.

He thinks Marika made up all
that stuff about Daddy being dead,

and that he's alive and hidin'
somewhere on the grounds.

Well, isn't that
what you believe?

I never said he was hidin'.

That's somethin' that you and
Tom used to do when we were kids.

Yes, but why would Marika
pretend that your father was dead?

I think Buck asked her to.

Why?

So we'd stop lookin' for him,
and he'd have time to get away

with the $150 million he
stole from the corporation.

I hope you're just tryin' to
impress Jessica with your fiction,

and you're not gonna say
anything like that to Tom Jarrow.

It's true.

You're the one with
the reality problem.

Now, tell me about $150 million.

Hello, Tom. Hi.

If you're looking for B.J., he
decided to go into his office.

Actually, it's Sally
I've come to see.

Sally really isn't feeling
very well just now.

Oh?

Well, would you mind
if I looked in on her?

She doesn't want to be
disturbed, Tom. I'm sorry.

Thanks.

Tom Jarrow's a nice
man. He likes you.

He doesn't deserve
to be treated like that.

I wish you'd just please
mind your own business.

Mrs. Oates...

Mrs. Oates!

Mrs. Oates?

What is it?

I'm sorry, Mr. Foster. I just can't bear
seeing this family come apart like this.

And I am listening to what Buck's
own son is saying about him.

Oh, come on. That's just
B.J.'s immaturity showing.

I've been in this house
over 20 years, Mr. Foster.

Long enough to see
the children grown,

and you get to know a lot
about a person in that time.

Mr. Wilson doesn't have a
crooked bone in his body.

I know that.

Listen, you know what I think?

I'm betting old Buck is gonna come walking
back in here any minute as big as life.

He's probably off on one of
those goofy adventures of his.

He'll be back.

Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.
Hello? Inspector Moss?

Well, it's been a while
since I've heard your voice.

Yes, I remember you vividly
from your last trip to London.

I understand you've made an inquiry
about a woman named Marika Valenti?

Yes, she claimed to have assisted
the Yard in solving some murders?

There's no record
of her assistance.

However, I did come across the
name in quite a different context.

Marika Valenti is one of
the aliases used by a woman

who has been arrested three
times on suspicion of blackmail.

Blackmail?

Yes, but each time the charge was dropped
when the alleged victim refused to testify

in open court.

By the way, her MO was always the
same. She pretended to be a psychic.

Thank you, Inspector. You've been
a great help. My best to your wife.

Goodbye.

Jessica...

That was a very
interesting conversation.

This has all been
too much for me.

I can't stay in this house any
longer. Let's go back to New York

and finish workin' on your book.

Oh, my book can wait.

You don't understand. I have
to get away from this place.

I can't even face Tom Jarrow
after the things that B.J. said.

Forget those things. I want to ask
you about something else that B.J. said.

That he and Tom used to
hide from you all the time.

We were kids.

Well, the property can't
have changed that much.

Did they have several
hideouts or just one?

Just one, the garage. They used to
lock me out and play in Daddy's old cars.

Oh. Are those
old cars still there?

Yes, the last time
I looked. Why?

When B.J. and I weren't
playing around in these old cars,

we'd hide out here
in the workshop.

We'd grab a cot and a couple
of chairs with food and water,

we could live out here for days.

Sergeant! Come over here. Quick.

Daddy!

Why would anyone kill Daddy? He
didn't have an enemy in the world.

I'm sure your father
was a very good man.

I think it's pretty clear his
killer's already in custody.

Carl? He worshipped Mr. Wilson.

He was the only one who
would give him the job.

He was an
ex-convict, Mrs. Oates.

Mr. Wilson believed
that people could change.

Let's go inside. I'll make you some
of that nice tea that you like so well.

Tom...

Yeah. I've still got some things to do. You
go inside. I'll be right with you, okay?

I promise.

Did you find something,
Mrs. Fletcher?

You know, that oil
stain there is recent.

Was there a 1936
Cadillac parked here?

If you got that from this oil
spot, I want to take your class.

That can be arranged. No, no.
The truth is that I remember Buck

talking about a Cadillac that
he was going to ship somewhere,

I wish I could recall where.

Well, B.J. said his dad was
going to have all the classic cars

shipped to the Oklahoma ranch.

Oh, I think I would
have remembered that.

Mrs. Fletcher, finding
the body in the garage

sort of cinches the
case against Carl.

I mean, this was his domain.
He lived just next door.

He knew the people in the house
rarely came out here anymore,

and figured it was the perfect
place to stash Buck's body

after he pulled it
from the cistern.

But you don't buy that, do you?

What motive did Carl
have for killing Buck?

Well, I'm sure you know about
the 150 million B.J. said his dad

misappropriated
from the company.

Yes, but did Carl know about it?

It was a lot of money.
I mean, Buck must've

brought it home a
briefcase-full at a time.

Unless, of course, he got careless
and opened it up while inside the limo.

Yeah, but where's the money now?

I mean, your officer searched
Carl's room for the murder weapon.

I'm sure he would have told
you if he'd found $150 million.

Carl must've
gotten it out of here.

Yes, but how? I mean, you
yourself said that's a lot of money.

It's too much to put in a
suitcase and walk out the door.

Buck didn't send his
Cadillac to the ranch.

He shipped it out to a classic car
show in California the day of the murder.

From this garage.

Do you remember the name of the company
that he used for shipping his car through?

It's gotta be the leading one in the
area, which would narrow it down.

I'm gonna try
Trans-Highway Shipping.

The manager there beats me
at poker every other Thursday.

Phil? Tom Jarrow. How you doin'?

Listen, I'm actually calling
on official police business.

Look, you didn't happen to pick up a
classic Cadillac day before yesterday

for shipment to some
town in California?

Pasadena?

Yeah, that's it. What?

What time?

Thanks, Phil.

Shipping order was changed...

To a foreign destination.

Rio de Janeiro.

Sally, can I talk
to you a minute?

Oh, Tom, I'm really not in the
mood to answer a lot of questions.

No, I know. I didn't
come here as a cop.

I just haven't had a chance to tell
you that I'm really sorry about your dad.

He was a good man and I
think I know how you must feel.

I just didn't want to believe that it
was true, even after we found Marika.

It just seems like all these years
I've been tryin' to get away from him.

No, you just wanted to stand
on your own two feet, that's all.

But how must he have felt?

Oh, he understood.

Well, since you moved into New
York, I've probably seen your father

as many times as you have and...

Well, I asked him about you
recently, and he just was so proud.

Proud of what you were doing in
the book business, all on your own.

He said that?

He sure did. Said that you
reminded him of somebody.

Reminded him of himself when he started
out before the first big gusher hit.

Sally...

He was good to me, too.

I'm gonna miss him.
You gonna be okay here?

Yeah, you go on. I'm
sure you've got a lot to do.

Yep.

Tom...

Thank you.

He loved the girls. In high school
he had them fighting over him.

But he never loved any woman the way he
loved your mother. That was purely sacred.

Hello. Wilson residence.
Just a moment.

It's for you.

Yeah, this is Phil at
Trans-Highway Shipping.

Sorry to disturb you.

You know that Cadillac
you're shipping to Rio?

Well, I just got a call
from a federal inspector.

He says he's gotta make a
thorough examination of the car

before it's loaded on the ship.

Hey, it's a new regulation.
What can I tell you?

Treasury's just gotta
be sure it's a real classic,

and not a cheap lookalike put together
for a quick sale down in Latin America.

Anyway. Well, I don't expect a problem
with a genuine article like this, do you?

Is it still there, George?

Somebody named Phil
just called at the house

and said there was going to
be some kind of inspection.

Pretty convincing, wasn't he?

Well, yeah. This isn't
mine. It's Buck's. He stole it.

But this is your signature
on the shipping instructions,

changing the destination of
the car from Pasadena to Rio.

Look, I didn't kill
Marika Valenti.

Buck did.

She was taking him for everything
he had. She was blackmailing him.

I wasn't sure she was a blackmailer
until I spoke to Scotland Yard.

How did you find out?

It was obvious.

Yes, of course. It was
meant to be obvious to you.

That was the object
of the bogus reading,

to contact the killer
and make him aware

that she knew what he'd done.

You knew what she meant by "old well"
and you waited for her by the cistern.

One hundred thousand
dollars a month, Mr. Foster,

and your secret
will die with me.

A hundred thousand.
Take it or leave it.

Marika!

She made her proposal and your
reply was a bullet through her heart.

Then you temporarily got rid of her
body as you'd gotten rid of Buck's.

You think you know
everything, don't you?

Yeah, I'd been stealing
money for years.

Winnowing it from every
unit in the corporate structure.

But old Buck found out
about it right before B.J. did.

I ran into him the other night at the
steakhouse, j just as he was leaving.

He pulled me aside and
said that he was going to

hand me over to the
investigation committee,

to try to save the company and prevent
his employees from losing their jobs.

When I got home that night and found out
that Buck was there, something snapped.

I went to his room. I shot him.

I had no idea that woman was hiding in
the bathroom, listening to the whole thing.

But you had a good-paying
job, you lived in a mansion

and you were married
to a billionaire's sister.

Why did you need
to steal the money?

I needed to get away.

From the job, from that house.

Most of all, from my wife.

I'm so sick of being Buck
Wilson's brother-in-law!

I wanted to fly to Rio
and start a new life.

In my own mansion.

You wanted to be Buck Wilson.

Yes. That's exactly
what I wanted.

Right. And if I'm not mistaken,

this'd be the murder weapon.

Sally!

It's not going to be
the same around here.

I know.

Hi. Tom.

You almost missed us.

Well, actually, it's
you I wanted to see.

Me?

Yeah, I wanted to let you know I was
serious about taking that course of yours.

I just put in for a
leave of absence.

Well, you realize, you'll have
to live in the city for a while.

Yeah. Well, then, I guess I'll
just have to make the best of it.

Won't I?

Won't I?

I hope you'll keep one or
two evenings free for studying.