All language subtitles for MSW s04e21 Deadpan.eng

This show
is going to run forever!

[Woman]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

What we're dealing with here
is a perfect crime.

The entire company
will have you to thank when the show closes.

He smells blood.
He's circling like a vulture.

Everybody's a critic.
Consider yourself an arrested person.

Actors and rewrites-
That's a worse combination than drinking and driving.

Pow! Right in the kisser!

- That's it!
- Jessica! After all we've been through!

[Man]
Good evening.

Elliot Easterbrook with your Live At 5:00
Mini Cam at the Woolcott Theatre.

Do you know that it has been
said that the theater is a temple?

If so, it is a temple which has
frequently worshipped false gods.

Only time and astute critical judgment
will tell if Mainely Murder,

which opens here tomorrow night,

will honor the gods
or yet again, profane them.

Now you and I have the benefit of
meeting the show's creators...

before they have to face
the critical faculty.

With us this evening,
are producer Shayna Grant,

who in the past has brought us such
unforgettable evenings in the theater...

as the musical biography
of Louis XVI,

uh, Heads, You Lose.

524 performances, Elliot!

And J.B. Fletcher, whose book
Murder Comes to Maine,

forms the basis of this... play.

And don't you look just like
a mystery writer from Maine?

Thank you. Uh, those are two things
of which I'm very proud.

Yes, and neophyte playwright
Walter Knapf,

who has adapted
Mrs. Fletcher's book to the stage.

Mr. Knapf, you must be terribly
excited to see your opus go straight to Broadway.

Uh, yes.
I'm- I'm thrilled, uh-

[Clears Throat]
Excited-That's the word.

Yes, and you must be exhausted
from doing all those rewrites you're working on.

Oh, no rewrites, Elliot.
The play works like a dream.

Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, I must tell you
that I'm not particularly interested in mysteries.

However, there's one
that intrigues me-

How a neophyte playwright was able
to convince an experienced writer...

to let him adapt her property.

Well, Mr. Easterbrook,
that is an easy mystery to solve.

You see, Walter was a very
talented student of mine.

So there's no truth in the rumors
that you've rushed into town to do emergency rewrites.

No rewrites, Elliot.
[Jessica] Uh, Mr. Easterbrook,

I am here to attend the opening night
and to bask in Walter's success.

Uh, bask?
Is that a prediction, Mrs. Fletcher,

or just... hype?

Isn't it true that the only thing
you can predict about the theater is that it is unpredictable?

Oh, bravo, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, you must have stayed up
all night thinking that one up.

No, actually. Moliere did it for me
about 200 years ago.

[Man Laughs]

Pow! Right in the kisser!

[Laughs]
Hey, I like that broad!

[Woman]
Not too smart though.

Easterbrook's going to review
her show in about 24 hours.

Come on, Denise. A single cell battery's
got more power than that smirk in a suit.

A lot of people
watch his review, Danny.

Yeah. And they forget about
what he said...

by the time the airhead
gets on with the weather report.

Oh! I forgot!
The only people who count...

are the ones who read
Danny O'Mara's reviews in the Chronicle.

You better believe it.

I'm not sure that I really want
to do another TVinterview after yesterday, Mr. Mapost.

I know. I know.
It wasn't that flattering.

- But it did get us a lot of exposure.
- Easterbrook is going to kill us.

He smells blood.
He's circling like a vulture.

Now if you could get us
an interview with Danny O'Mara-

Danny O'Mara?
Are you crazy?

Just try and get
the most popular critic in the city to do an interview.

Oh, then he must be
the drama critic on the Chronicle.

J.B. Fletcher!

Danny O'Mara,
and I like your style, lady.

Well, thank you. Uh, that's very
flattering from a fellow writer.

Oh, I never read any of your books.

I'm talkin' about the way
you took out that hack Easterbrook.

Say, Danny-
Uh,

off the record,J.B.,
have you seen your show yet?

Uh, no. No, actually
we're seeing a dress rehearsal right after lunch.

Oh. Well, from what I hear,
you better make it a light lunch.

He's gonna draw and quarter us.
He's gonna flay our entrails all over Times Square.

Actually, he'll give you
a clean shot.

Oh, uh, Jessica, Walter,
this is Denise Quinlan,

Danny's right hand,
his left hand and entire brain.

Not at all. L-I'm more like
the guy who walks behind the elephant in the parade.

[Chuckles]

Believe it or not, you'll get
a fairer shake from Danny than any of the others.

Ah. Which makes me a little
trepidatious about the others.

Well, you'll find out
soon enough... at the party.

I guess I'll see all of you
there tonight. Nice meeting you.

[Clears Throat]
You mean, you actually invite critics to the opening night party?

No. That was Shayna's idea.
You know, she does it all the time.

She, uh, thinks it's good publicity.

Oh, my gosh! Why are you
listening to me? We got a rehearsal to go to.

Uh, Jessica, just a second.

Now, I know that you liked
the first draft that I sent you-

Walter, you don't have to fish
for compliments from me. I like your work.

Yeah. Well, you see, the thing is,
I just don't want you to be upset by the witch.

Which witch?

Double trouble, spoil the bubble!
[Thunder Rumbling]

Make the haystack...

turn to rubble!

Curtain! Curtain! Cut it!

Put out that flame before it
burns the bloody place down!

All right, gentlemen,
let's fix the fire before we continue.

God, why has thou forsaken me?

So, Mrs. Fletcher, what do you think
of our little opus so far?

Uh, I've, uh, never seen
anything like it.

Wait until act two.

When that effect works properly,
it makes quite an act curtain.

Oh. Well, it's, uh-
It's certainly very unexpected.

But aren't you confusing Maine
with Massachusetts?

Oh, no, no, darling.

By including
all of perceptual New England, we're broadening the show's appeal.

Jason!
What's with Tony?

He was like a black hole of energy
on that stage tonight.

He's got flu.
Well, put in the understudy, for God's sake.

I will not have him
dragging the show down.

[Coughs]

You despise and loathe it, right?

Walter, despise and loathe
are very strong words,

but what I don't understand
is what happened to your wonderful first draft?

Well, it got buried underneath
all the improvements.

L- I figured they know
what they were doing,

and so I did what they said,
and then suddenly we had this.

[Sighs]
Well, who knows, Walter? The audience will like it.

I mean, don't they say
a bad dress rehearsal means a great opening?

[Horns Honking]

[Chattering]

Walter, calm down.
You'll get whiplash.

My God, my entire life is
riding in that man's hands.

I mean, what ifhe had
a lousy dinner? [Jessica] Walter, listen to me.

You are a very talented young writer,
and this is only your first play.

[Man On P.A.] Ladies and gentlemen,
in tonight's performance, the role of Woodsman,

normally played by TonyJasper,
will be played by Craig Donner.

How can they start?
Easterbrook isn't here yet!

[Chattering]

[Horns Honking]

Please hurry.
Curtain going up, darling!

I hope you don't think
by inviting me to your postprandial party,

you'll color my reaction
to your little play.

Of course not, darling,
but missing the first scene might. [Applause]

Finally I get it!
He likes being late!

He's only comfortable in the dark-

like all creatures
who prey off the living. Huh.

[Man On P.A.]
Refreshments are available during the intermission in the outer lobby.

I'll get us some drinks.

Best party I've been to in years!
Daphne was there and with Charles! Can you believe it?

Don't you tell me how tired you are!
Do you know what my day was like?

First I rode the car pool.
Then I had to run all over town looking for your golf-

White wine and a double anything.

First I got an estimate,
and then I gotta knock down the wall.

I mean, I gotta knock down
the whole wall!

No one's talking about the play!

Well, at least they're not saying
anything negative about it, Walter.

Well, that's great. That means
it's taking their minds off their lives.

All they're talking about
is their lives! Oh, well, that is wonderful.

That means the play
has relevance.

You know, Easterbrook,
[Chuckles]

All you TV blowhards
know about theater is makeup and hair.

Well, Mr. O'Mara, if I didn't
know better, I'd say you were jealous of my exposure.

Exposure?
Exposure means zip without influence, buddy.

And I got influence.
How tragic to mistake the power of one's forum for one's own.

Besides, everyone knows
the Chronicle is past its prime.

My God, they're both
gonna hate this play!

Gimme a break, Easterbrook.
Everyone knows you lost out the Chronicle job to me.

Grammatically speaking,
"out" is incorrectly used in that sentence,

further demonstrating
your intellectual ineptitude.

You simpering-
You're getting violent.

How appropriately Neanderthal.

I need a drink.
You've just had a drink, Walter.

I need many more.
Jessica, I'll see you at the party.

Walter!
[Sighs]

[Bell Dings]

[Laughter]

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.
I've been just dying to meet you.

I'm Barbara Blair.
I play Prudence the witch. Of course.

It's a small part.
But memorable.

So, how did you like the play?
Uh, I've... never seen anything quite like it.

[Giggles]

Denise!
Have you seen Walter anywhere?

Uh, no, but if he's like most
playwrights, he's probably somewhere getting plastered.

All right, everyone.
Atención, atención.

We're going to hear the review.

Easterbrook's review.
Uh, turn this up!

It is always
difficult to review a mystery...

without giving away the plot.

This unpalatable witch's brew
is such a muddle of clichés and troll dialogue,

that it is impossible
to figure out the plot.

Neophyte playwright
Walter Knapf at least has the excuse of inexperience.

As for the cast,

Vivian Cassell brings her usual
long-in-the-tooth charm to the lead.

And Barbara Blair shines
briefly as a witch.

TonyJasper as the Woodsman
is appropriately wooden.

If you're looking for a good thriller,
walk right by the Woolcott Theatre.

The only mystery
about this one, folks,

is how it ever got to
Broadway in the first place.

Elliot Easterbrook,
until we meet again.

[Glass Shatters]
[Crowd Murmuring]

My glass slipped.
[Laughter]

J.B., you're not leaving?

Well, it was a lovely party,
Shayna,

but it's after 1:00, and I'd like to
get an early start in the morning back to Cabot Cove.

Thanks for everything.
J.B., you don't understand. You can't leave.

It'll look like you're deserting
the ship before the early newspaper reviews come out.

Shayna, what on earth
is that man doing here?

I invited him, Jason.
I always invite him.

But who would've dreamed
he'd have the nerve to show up?

It does seem odd that he would
attend the party of a show he panned.

In all my years in the theater,
I've never seen-

And if you want many more
years in the theater, Jason, you won't make any trouble.

This is not the last show
any of us are going to be involved with.

Elliot, darling.

We're a hit!
Wait'll you see!

This show is going to run forever!

O'Mara loved the show!

Walter! Are you all right?

- Get some coffee.
- Oh, no. I'm... perfect!

Listen to this!
"Mainely Murder is mainly magnificent,

the one must-see of the season. "

And Easterbrook,
this is for you.

"This is a real audience-pleaser,

"just the kind of show
a certain low-caliber, high ego TVcritic is sure to hate.

"You know who I'm talking about.

"That Live at Five guy
who thinks he's smarter than you.

"Lfhe hates this show,

maybe you should let his TVstation
know you've had enough ofhis condescending crap. "

- [Laughter]
- Now, I wonder who he's talking about.

What an amusing joke.

I wonder if Mr. O'Mara is
ready for the punch line.

Elliot, you know Danny.
Well enough, Miss Quinlan.

I think someone has to silence
this undereducated, ill-informed windbag...

permanently.

I'd better give Danny a call.

What? I can't hear you.
You're gonna have to speak a little louder.

Shots? Where?

Okay.

[Siren Wails]

[Police Radio Chatter]

I'm Mr. O'Mara's assistant.
They told me to come up.

[Easterbrook]
I assure you, Lieutenant, that I arrived only seconds before your men.

And you just happened to be
carrying the murder weapon.

I picked the gun up off the floor,
because I felt the assailant might still be present.

Who let you in?
The door was open.

Listen, we get an anonymous call
there were some shots fired.

We find you standing over the body
with the murder weapon.

Sorry. It just doesn't sound
kosher to me.

You said you would silence
Danny once and for all.

Yes, silence him by costing him
his job at the Chronicle.

I came here to tell him
I intended to sue him...

ifhe didn't remove
what he wrote about me for the next edition.

[Jessica]
Excuse me.

Jarvis, Aloysius Jarvis.
You're-

My name is Jessica Fletcher.
I'm sorry to interrupt you,

but l- I felt it was very important
that you should know...

that Denise and I
were at the same restaurant as Mr. Easterbrook.

And just-just after he left,
Denise tried to call Mr. O'Mara, but there was no answer.

Just because he didn't
pick up the phone doesn't mean he was dead.

I just wanted to be sure that
you understood that we came straight here from the restaurant...

and Mr. Easterbrook left only
a few moments before we did. That's plenty of time to kill him.

Well, forgive me, Lieutenant,
but if those shots were fired as recently as that,

I mean, wouldn't you have noticed
a slight smell of gunpowder?

Well, it was a.22 caliber.
It was small.

The smell fades fast.

Well, maybe I'm confused,
but, uh, if Mr. O'Mara was shot when you think that he was shot,

uh, why does his skin
have that bluish look to it?

Funny, he doesn't look bluish to me.

I'm sorry, lady.
I've been on a double shift.

I gotta book this gent
before I go into a coma. Take him out.

The facts will clear me,
Lieutenant,

and then you're going to find
yourself in a spot of trouble.

And Mrs. Fletcher,
I would sincerely appreciate it...

if you would direct
your attention to Murder at the Quilting Bee,

or whatever your next potboiler
is going to be called,

and leave my defense
in more capable hands.

The guy gets paid for being insulting.

My cousin Marvin spent
his lifetime doing that for free. [Scoffs]

Oh, here she is!
The woman of the hour!

You got quite a nice mention
from O'Mara, Mrs. Fletcher.

It was a good thing
he finished his review before he packed it in, eh?

And wait till you hear about
the spectacular interviews that Barney has lined up for you!

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
You're the ones who should be enjoying the spotlight.

I, uh- Well, I was thinking that
since I had so little to do with the production,

wouldn't you like to
take my name off the marquee?

Oh, isn't that sweet?

She wants Walter to take
all the credit for this success.

But you know,J.B. Fletcher
does mean something,

and you know,
we do have a contract...

stipulating your name in lights
all over New York.

We sure are glad O'Mara
wrote his review before he cashed in his chips,

or we wouldn't have
any quotes at all.

What astonishes me is the motive.
Killing somebody because he's insulted you?

[Inhales]
I can't believe anybody's that self-centered.

Well, actually, the evidence
seems to indicate that Mr. Easterbrook did not kill him.

Oh, you have
got to be kidding.

Just when everything
was going so well.

Anybody who kills a critic ought
to get a special Tony Award...

for his contribution
to the American theater.

I wonder who did kill O'Mara.

[Walter]
Shayna?

Um, your message-
It, uh-

It said something about,
uh, script... changes?

Just a tiny touch up
here and there, darling.

Walter, you look dreadful!
Are you-Are you ill?

Industrial strength hangover.

I was up most
of the night celebrating.

Walter, Danny O'Mara
was murdered last night.

I know. I heard.

Did anybody see Steve Cahill's
column this morning? Gave us a terrific write-up.

See it? I wrote it.
[Walter] Really?

- Read just like Cahill.
- Yeah, I have this knack for imitating various columnist's style.

It makes it easy for them.
All they have to do is print the release.

[Sighs]
Well, I must run along, or I'll miss my plane. Walter, I want to wish you the very best of luck.

- You're leaving?
- Call me when you have some time, and we'll talk about everything. Good-bye.

Oh, Shayna, take a look at this,
will ya?

Jessica, please!

You can't leave me stranded here
like this. You've gotta help me straighten out this play!

Everybody seems satisfied
with it the way it is, unfortunately.

Well, I'm not.
And I know it's more embarrassing for me then it is for you.

[Scoffs]
Maybe not.

I don't know what to do, Jessica.
And I can only dread what Shayna's changes are going to be,

but we both know that it's
not gonna make it any better.

Look, maybe you could take
advantage of this opportunity...

to put back in some of the things
that you cut out of the first draft.

Well, like what?
Well, the theme, perhaps?

Theme?

You mean the idea in your book
about not walking away and letting an injustice occur.

No? That's not it?

Oh, that's it all right, Walter.

And thank you for reminding me.

You know,
there are several questions about Mr. O'Mara's death...

that I just can't walk away from.

I remember enjoying reading
Gerald Greeley's reviews. He was very gentlemanly.

He was the best theater critic
we ever had.

Of course after he had that stroke,
Gerald couldn't handle Broadway anymore,

so now he's reviewing
television programs.

And now you have to replace
your drama critic again.

Any ideas who it might be?

What's your angle on this,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, I know. It never hurts to
steal from the headlines, right?

Excuse me?

Well, you're researching a new book.
Uh, Murder on the Great White Way, that sort of thing, right?

[Laughs]
Guilty as charged, Mr. Cullen.

But of course, as you know,
in mysteries, timing is of the utmost importance.

Yeah, naturally.
I mean, for example,

what time did Mr. O'Mara
leave here last night after he finished his review?

Oh, he didn't come in here at all.
He wrote at home.

Oh, oh, I see.
You mean a messenger picked up his review?

No, no, no, no, no.
We're all on computers now.

You see, O'Mara wrote his reviews
on his home computer,

and then sent it in here
by modems over the telephone.

Oh, my goodness.
How modern. Oh, yeah.

The reviews came in
on a printer, like this one.

Oh, those machines can
do anything, except write.

But some of our reporters
can't do that either, so-

But the machines check out
the spelling and, um, they even note the time pieces come in here.

And what time did Mr. O'Mara's
review come in last night?

Uh, let's see.

Um, 11:15.

Oh, I see what you're getting at.
He must've died right after that.

[Sighs]
Talk about going with your boots on.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.
Come right in.

Mr. Cullen told me you were here.
I hope you don't mind.

No, not at all.
I'm just cleaning out the files.

Actually, I'm happy
for the company. It's kind of spooky here.

Mmm. Mr. Cullen also told me about
your new assignment- temporary drama critic. Congratulations.

Yeah, thanks.
Must be a little intimidating,

stepping into the shoes of
the foremost drama critic of New York.

Well, no, not really.
I've done it before.

Last year, Danny asked me to
write a review under his byline while he was out of town.

And nobody knew?
Well, his style was fairly easy to copy.

I mean, uh, he wrote
the way he talked.

Why don't I show you?
His program from last night should be over here somewhere.

He always scribbled notes all
over his program,

and they showed up verbatim
in his review.

Here. See?
Yes.

Denise, that's odd.
Hmm?

I mean, these notes aren't
anything like his review.

"Barbara Blair, hammy.
Dialogue stiff and unprofessional."

Really?
I hadn't had a chance to look at it yet.

Craig Donner, "amateurish."

Oh, yes, of course,
he was the last-minute cast change.

But he certainly didn't like
any of the actors here.

Well, this is weird. Why would his
review be so favorable?

I don't suppose
you have a copy of his review?

Uh, no, but I have the original.

Oh, you mean
it's in the computer? Yeah, sure.

[Typing]

But, Denise, that's odd.
That review doesn't square with his notes.

I gather you don't write
on a computer, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, no, no.
I still use my good old bucket-of-bolts typewriter.

It's very noisy,
but it's comfortable.

Well, you should
consider switching.

Uh, no, I've heard too many
dreadful stories...

about people punching
the wrong button and losing everything.

Oh, well, it's not quite
that easy. I'll show you.

I'll ask the computer for a directory
of what's on the disk.

There.
Now we know the name of the file that contains the review.

Now, watch. I'll erase it.
[Typing]

There! You see?
You've lost everything.

Uh-huh, but what you can erase,
you can also un-erase. Oh.

There. Now everything that was
erased has been retrieved.

Now, that's odd.
There seem to be two files now.

One that we didn't see before.

Could we look at that one?
Yeah, sure.

[Typing]

[Jessica] "A sickening spectacle calling
itself Mainely Murder opened tonight at the Woolcott Theatre.

"This alleged play
features stiff dialogue, hammy performances...

"and a plot almost as mysterious
as a corned beef sandwich.

"The only lucky individual
involved was actor TonyJasper,

who somehow got himself replaced
by the amateurish Craig Donner."

But this doesn't make sense.
I mean, why would Danny change his mind so radically?

- I suspect he didn't.
- But then, why the two reviews?

Because I think whoever
killed Danny O'Mara also killed his review.

[Jarvis]
So the deal is, somebody came to O'Mara's apartment, killed him,

erased the bad review,
sent in the good one?

That still doesn't eliminate
Easterbrook.

Except that he was
on the air at 11:15...

when that review
was received at the Chronicle.

- He could've been on tape.
- No, no, I checked it. It was a live broadcast.

Oh, I don't know, Mrs. Fletcher.

Finding him with
the murder weapon in his hand- It's just too good to ignore.

Exactly! It's too good.

Wait. What are you saying?
He was framed?

Lieutenant, if I remember correctly,
you received an anonymous phone call saying that shots had been heard?

But at the apartment last night,
you said that O'Mara had been killed with one bullet.

- Right.
- Well, did you find any other bullets that had been fired?

- No.
- Well, then, how could somebody have heard "shots"?

The witness could've been confused.

What about the other tenants
in the building?

Did they hear a single shot
or several shots?

Nobody heard anything.

Now let's face it, Mrs. Fletcher.
He died just around the time we found Easterbrook.

Here's the Coroner's report
on O'Mara. Thanks.

No other shots were heard
at any other time either.

Easterbrook's are the only prints
that were found on the gun.

Of course, he, uh,
could've died earlier.

Well, then I suppose the question is,
who would benefit from a good review?

Ah, the producer,
the director, the novelist.

Let's face it.
That still doesn't eliminate Easterbrook.

Not to mention the actors
and everybody involved in the production.

Yes, and with my luck,
they can probably all alibi each other at that party.

[Phone Buzzes]
Excuse me.

Okay. Okay.
Yeah, hold on.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher.
I gotta take this call.

Think about it, Mrs. Fletcher.

Who was at the party,
who wasn't at the party, who came late, whatever.

Hello?

Who came late?

[Recording]
This is Walter Knapf. Lf I don't pick up the phone in a second,

it means I'm out,
or I'm having an anxiety attack.

Please leave a message.
[Answering Machine Beeps]

Walter, this is Jessica.
I have to talk to you. It's really very urgent.

Uh, I guess I'll just
have to keep trying.

I certainly hope you haven't
come here expecting gratitude, Mrs. Fletcher.

The charges against me were dropped...

because the facts
were obvious to anybody with a single brain cell still active.

I quite agree.
And please,

don't embarrass yourself
by pleading for your show.

I have no intention of
promoting it on the air.

Mr. Easterbrook,
doesn't it get tiring, being the voice of disdain?

I never tire of putting people
in their place.

I can't help but wonder
what interests are served...

when critics make
destructive remarks simply to be,

well, amusing?

Surely you didn't come here
simply to discuss the vagaries of criticism.

I see you do your homework,
Mr. Easterbrook.

You have a copy
of the play on your desk.

Yes. Well, occasionally
a publicist will send me a script before a play opens.

I must confess,
I rarely read them though.

They end up changing so much
before they open.

Although not often for the better.

Well, on that we agree.

Walter's first draft
was just delightful.

Indeed?

Well, then, perhaps
your Mr., um, uh, Knapf, is it?

Yes. Perhaps he has a future
in the theater after all.

He's- He's a very neat typist.

There's one review in particular
that intrigues me.

The, uh, phony O'Mara review,
and who could have written it.

And why would that interest me?

Well, you seemed more
than anxious last night to sue Mr. O'Mara over it.

Aren't you curious
to see who did write it?

Well, it wouldn't require
much talent to imitate O'Mara's style, or lack thereof.

That means it could have been anyone
connected with Mainely Murder.

Jason Richards springs to mind.

O'Mara panned his last five plays.

I'm not in the mood to chitchat,
Mrs. Fletcher.

If it weren't for you,
we wouldn't be in this dreadful situation.

Well, I only wrote the novel,
Mr. Richards. That's all.

Sit down.

I see you haven't heard
the result of your handiwork.

The Chronicle is retracting
O'Mara's review and printing the one that you unearthed.

I hope you're satisfied.

Surely you understand that once
I found that other review,

I was obligated
to show it to the police.

How noble.

The entire company will have you
to thank when the show closes.

Well, if the show does close,

I mean, isn't it possible
that it's because of the quality of the play?

Oh, please, Mrs. Fletcher,
don't be so naive.

We had one single rave review,
the only review that mattered,

and you've taken it away.

Look, I'm truly sorry,
Mr. Richards.

But certainly it is more important
to find out who killed Danny O'Mara?

Why? He was a speck
on the flypaper of theater.

Besides, why does it matter to you?

Well, l-

I can't help but think
that it is somebody who stood to gain from a good review.

Somebody involved
in the show, you mean.

Like me, presumably?

Well, if you recall, I was at
the party here at Vincent's...

with all the other members
of the company...

save one.

So that's it.

You suspect
your darling little playwright,

and you're trying to palm off
the blame on one of us.

Well-
[Chuckles] It won't work.

Walter!

Walter!
[Sighs]

Oh, Barney-
Well, I guess I should've known it was too good to last.

The only quote review
and the Chronicle threatens to sue unless we take it down.

Well, whoever wrote that review
did a good job of imitating Mr. O'Mara's style.

Oh, I never tried doing O'Mara.

I mean, he wasn't the type
who appreciated being sent plugs.

[Sighs]
Nobody appreciates a publicist.

Well, I imagine that if the show closes,
it would be devastating to quite a lot of people, wouldn't it?

Oh, sure.
Um, everybody except me.

But you'd be out of a job.

Well, between you and me,
for a publicist, it doesn't matter.

I mean, another show'll come along,
probably also a turkey.

But not so for Walter.
No, he's taking this pretty hard.

Oh, have you seen Walter?
Wh-Where is he?

Oh, he's backstage
doing some rewrites.

Jessica!
Oh, I followed your advice.

I put back the character stuff,
and guess what.

Shayna loved it.
This play's been changed so many times,

she doesn't even remember
what she cut out!

I really think
this is making it better.

Walter, forget the changes.
You are in serious trouble.

Oh, no, I don't think so.
I think these revisions are gonna save the play!

Walter, this play could not
be saved with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Now, I'm sorry, but I need
to know where you were during the opening night party!

You mean the party at Vincent's?
Yes.

Uh-
Walter, where were you?

Uh-
Maybe I can tell you that.

The way I see it, he was at
Danny O'Mara's apartment... killing him.

You must have some idea where
you were between intermission and when you arrived at the party.

I went to a few bars.

Walter, which bars?

I was drunk.
I didn't pay attention.

Send in Mrs. Rizzo.
But can't you at least remember which street they were on?

Was it Eighth Avenue?
Ninth Avenue? Those were some of them.

That's him!
That's the boy that was in the hallway.

You live in the building
with Mr. O'Mara?

On the first floor.
O'Mara's on the third.

You oughta be ashamed,
a nice boy like you.

Mrs. Rizzo, are you absolutely
certain that it was Walter that you saw?

What?
Are you calling me blind? I never forget a face.

Take Sally Mazursky for instance.
I hadn't seen her since- Hey, we believe you.

- Just tell us
what happened last night. - Again? Okay.

So, uh, let me see, uh-
At around 11:00-

I remember it was 11:00,
because the news just come on.

You know, with that
pretty young newscaster. What's her name?

We believe you. 11:00.
What happened last night?

Well, he comes bangin' on my door.

So, I opened the door on the chain.
You looked nice in your tuxedo.

And he tells me that
he had to see Mr. O'Mara. So I tell him he lived upstairs.

And he went away.
You smelled like a saloon.

- Did you see Walter walk upstairs?
- No, l- I closed the door.

Mrs. Rizzo,
why didn't you come forward and talk to the police sooner?

Well, my husband-you know how it is-
he didn't want me to get involved.

But when I read in the papers
that they didn't know who killed this nice Mr. O'Mara,

I said, "Honey, listen,
I gotta tell the cops what I seen. " So here I am.

Thank you, Mrs. Rizzo.
Would you be so kind as to wait outside?

More waiting? Oh, mamma mia.
No wonder people don't like to get involved.

Okay, okay, I'll wait.

Look, it isn't
the way it seems.

Well, maybe you can tell us
the way it was.

Well, after I left you at the theater,
I did go out and have a few drinks.

All right, a lot of drinks.

But the more I drank,
the more I thought that this play, that my career,

that my entire life depended
on what Danny O'Mara wrote.

And so I decided-
and- and I know it was stupid-

but I decided that
I'd go and talk to him and, well, beg for mercy.

- He refused and you plugged him.
- No!

When I realized I was so drunk
I couldn't find his apartment,

that's when I knew that
I wasn't thinking straight.

- So I went out and got really plastered.
- I'm not buyin' that for a minute.

You were in the building.
You had motive to switch those reviews. You're a writer!

- You could've very easily copied his style.
You know how to use a computer. - Lieutenant, how do you know that?

We got a court order
to search his apartment. He owns a computer.

Yeah, well, since when is it
a crime to own a computer?

If I wanted to write a favorable
review of my play, I would've written a better one than that.

Whoever wrote it
missed the whole point!

Everybody's a critic.
Consider yourself an arrested person.

Lieutenant, look. I know Walter.
Believe me-

Mrs. Fletcher,
I know this isn't typecasting,

but the killer in this script
has Walter Knapf's name written all over it!

Jessica, please.

Don't you worry, Walter.

I have another script in mind...
with some different casting.

[Barbara]
Like it? I'm a troll.

[Giggles]
Shayna asked me to come in early to try on the new hair and makeup.

She read in some review
that witches are cliché.

Well, I hate to think what
Shayna will do when somebody writes that trolls are cliché.

Maybe it is a bit much.

I mean, nobody
would even recognize me. [Laughs, Sighs]

You must be very proud of
having gotten that good notice from Elliot Easterbrook.

It is really nice, isn't it?

I thought he really understood
what I was trying to accomplish with the role.

Yes, yes. Of course, an advanced
look at the script must have, uh, helped him with that.

Oh, I don't know.
I mean, it changed so much since he-

Wait a minute. What makes you
think I loaned him my script?

Well, I saw it in his office.
I assumed that you'd left it there.

Oh, no, he probably just crammed it
in his briefcase along with everything else when he left my place.

I take it that you're, uh,
dating Mr. Easterbrook.

[Chuckles]
If you can call it that.

We only went out once.
Just once?

Mmm. What he wanted
was so disgusting.

Oh, I see. Yeah.
[Chuckles] Nothing kinky.

Just four hours of dinner
when all he did was talk about himself.

It was all Shayna's idea.
I told her she could do her own dirty work.

But, Morris, baby, I'm doing you
a favor by letting you in on this new show early.

[Knocking]
Come in!

Yes, well, I hold an option.
Mm-hmm.

On another book
by the same author, J.B. Fletcher-

[Chuckles]
Uh, um,

sweetie, baby, I'm going to have
to get back to you.

Mm-hmm. They need me.
[Chuckles]

Ciao, baby.

I wasn't aware
that we were negotiating.

Oh, well, I was going to call
your agent first thing in the a.m.

I suppose I really
should thank you, Shayna.

I was just talking to Barbara,
and it seems that I have underestimated you.

Well, people do.
That's part of being a woman in business.

Well, I don't have
to tell you, darling.

I just had no idea that you were
so resourceful about assuring the success of your productions.

I mean, Barbara told me
how you introduced her to, uh, Elliot Easterbrook.

Oh, that?
That was nothing.

A favor to Barbara, really.

Um, they seemed to be
the kind that, uh,

could develop a mutually
beneficial relationship.

Shayna, I've got those TV reviews
you wanted to pull quotes from. Easterbrook's on top.

Mmm. Thanks.
Jessica, this might interest you.

Pulling pearls from swine.

And Barbara Blair
shines briefly as a witch.

TonyJasper as the Woodsman
is appropriately wooden.

If you're looking for-
That's it!

No, no, Jessica,
we're trying to find the good bits.

I'm sorry, Shayna.
I have to see a man about a play.

Jessica!
After all we've been through!

I'll match any offer!
Forget match!

[Door Closes]

Mr. Easterbrook?

- Thank you for joining me.
- Curiosity, Mrs. Fletcher, nothing more.

I do hope you don't construe this
as an agreement with your proposal that we collaborate on a play.

You know how I feel
about mysteries.

Well, that's why I wanted
your opinion on my idea.

I knew that you
would give it a frank appraisal.

Won't you sit down?

Don't say I didn't warn you.

The setting of the story
is the theater.

The victim is a powerful critic.

Oh, dear.
Art imitates life.

Our killer is very meticulous.

But he also has a flair
for the dramatic.

He plans his murder to
coincide with the opening of a new mystery play.

After the curtain comes down,
the killer goes to the critic's apartment.

They know each other,
and even though the critic is working on his review of the show,

he lets the killer in.

Once inside,
the killer shoots his victim.

The killer erases from
the computer disk the bad review his victim has been writing,

and replaces it with a rave review
the murderer wrote earlier...

and took with him on his own disk.

He calls the police
with an anonymous tip that later proves to be partially incorrect,

making it
look as if he's been framed...

which of course he has,
but by himself.

This is why I don't like mysteries.

This anonymous tip achieves what?

He knows the police will
ultimately determine the time of death to be two hours earlier.

Once he's been cleared,
it's extremely unlikely that he'd be accused again.

But to be cleared,
he must have an alibi.

He has the best.

He was appearing live on television
when the phony review was received in the newspaper.

Quite a brilliant touch.

But I can't imagine
how he could be in two places at the same time.

Oh, he wasn't, of course.

Everyone assumed that
the phony review was transmitted from the victim's apartment...

as his reviews usually were.

But it was actually transmitted
from the killer's own computer at the television station...

while he was on the air
delivering his review of the same play.

A bit far-fetched, but quite brilliant.

I doff my chapeau to you,
Madame Authoress.

What we're dealing with here
is a perfect crime.

It could be perfect, yes,
except that Moliere was right.

In- In what respect?

The theater is unpredictable.

You see, Mr. Easterbrook,
there was a cast change opening night.

And since you came in late,
you missed the announcement...

and used the name of
the wrong actor in your TVreview...

and in the phony review,
you wrote under Mr. O'Mara's name.

I see we've switched from
the third person to the second.

Even a fictional judge andjury
would hardly accept that as proof.

True, but they would accept
the TV station's phone log.

I beg your pardon?

Your station's log shows a five minute
call to the Chronicle at 11:15,

exactly the time it took to
transmit the phony review.

[Sighs, Clears Throat]

Even the finest works of art
have their flaws.

Congratulations,
Mrs. Fletcher.

The only thing missing
is a motive.

Yes, I wondered about that.

Imagine a young
and impressionable writer...

who has his first play produced
off-off-off Broadway.

It's not perfect,
but he has talent, and it's a start.

And imagine a critic from
a second-rate newspaper trying to make a name for himself.

His review of the play
is devastating.

So devastating
the young playwright never writes another play.

No, instead, he becomes
a critic himself and vows to best his destroyer at his own game.

But it's not enough.

It's not enough
to eradicate the pain.

Only one thing can do that.

Mr. Easterbrook.

The detective in the wings,
Mrs. Fletcher?

I suppose I should have expected
a climax so cliché.

You know, personally,
I liked this guy's ending.

But there's one thing that bothers me.

How did you know the TV station
logged their phone calls?

Well, if they don't,
they ought to.

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