Original subtitles

(theme music playing)

Starring Buddy Ebsen.

Also starring Lee Meriwether.

With guest stars Eric Braden,

Jamie Smith Jackson,

Richard Hatch,

Barbara Stewart,

Nancy Wickwire.

Special guest star Sharon Acker.

Oh...

Tony?

Help.

(sighs)

(groans) My zipper's stuck.

Why, you're not even ready.

I'm not going.

With what I've learned about Steve and the firm,

I'd be a hypocrite.

Okay, drop the other shoe.

What's Steve been doing, stealing stamps?

Stealing's more serious than that.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

Steve Kingston?

Yeah, I wish there were a kinder way of putting it

but there isn't.

Steve Kingston is a thief.

There.

Thank you.

What are you gonna do about it?

I, uh, don't know yet.

Not definitely.

I thought a man was supposed to be innocent

until he was proven guilty.

Until he is, I think you ought to go to the party.

I'm certainly going.

I told you I'm not going.

And I'll need the car.

Okay, I'll get a lift.

And don't worry...

I think you're wrong about Steve.

(jaunty piano melody plays, lively chatter and laughter)

Excuse me a moment.

Hey, where's our host?

Gail, you look beautiful.

Thank you. So do you, sweetheart.

Hi, how are you, darling? As always.

Say, when did you get back?

Steve, how are you? Tonight. Yeah.

It's gonna be a little wet out tonight.

I'm going to powder my nose.

Don't have too much fun without me!

It can't be done; you know that.

Come on inside.

Oh, everybody's here. Sure.

Did you have a hard time getting here or something? Or what?

No, we were just slow starting...

STEVE: Let me get you a drink.

It's been too long.

Steve, wait... problems.

It's Tony.

What about Tony?

Well, I don't know.

He's uptight about something.

What's bothering Tony is the fact that the firm

is moving up us younger guys

and old Tony is no longer a younger guy, that's all.

"Old Tony" is gonna block your partnership.

No way.

He says you've been stealing.

Well, is there something called the, uh, Park Estate?

What did he say about the Park Estate?

He says you're a thief.

Well, it isn't true, is it?

Why would he say such a thing?

Darling, of course it isn't true.

You know better than that.

(chuckling)

But look, maybe, um, maybe I better phone him right now

and see if, uh...

Why don't you cover for me and play the hostess?

Hey, Steve, is everything all right?

Honey, of course it's all right.

I'll just be a few minutes, okay?

Okay.

VALET: Thank you, sir.

Have a nice time tonight.

Hey, man, uh, can I ask you something?

Not right now, I'm busy.

But hang in there.

(knocking on door)

My wife didn't waste any time, did she?

Tony, I want to talk to you about something.

That Park Estate is my client.

Now, you had no right to take out that file.

Do you want to discuss the right and the wrong of this matter?

Listen, man, I thought you and I were friends.

Bull, we're not friends.

We work for the same firm

and we live in the same neighborhood

but we're not friends.

I want that file, Tony.

I should think you would.

Especially with the margin notes that I made.

You wouldn't shoot me.

Now hand it over to me.

You stupid fool.

Spencer's gonna know anyway.

You told him?

(grunting)

(lively chatter and laughter)

Winnie, hi! Hi, Gail!

How are you, honey? Have you seen Steve?

Oh, I just got here myself.

I haven't even said hello to my host.

Hey, that dress is terrific, I love it!

I love it! Thank you.

See you later. Okay, sweetheart.

♪ ♪

Operator, get me the police, please.

Hurry, this is an emergency.

For heaven's sake, give me the police.

This is Tony Bloom.

Athrop Way.

This is an emergency.

A couple of hippies...

broke into my house.

Beat me up.

They're spaced out.

(panting dramatically)

They're now searching for money.

Oh, my God...

Oh, no!

Oh, what happened to the ice cream suit?

(light chuckle) I just spilt some ice cream on it.

How's everything going?

Fine.

Everything is gonna work just fine.

Gail, hey, come here, come here.

Officer, this is Mrs. Bloom.

What's the matter?

Mrs. Bloom, I'm sorry, but could you come with me?

What's happened?

Do you happen to know any 18 year olds, Mr. Jones?

No.

But I used to be one.

Now, let's see if I got all this straight.

Your daughter, Krysti, left your home in Kansas

about four months ago, and took a ride out here

to Los Angeles with a friend?

And then, then just dropped out of sight.

I was heartsick.

MAN: Finally one letter.

She said she was getting her head straightened out...

To quote her lovely English...

Had gotten a couple of things out of her system...

And reading between the lines,

she was reaching out to us.

She was ready to come back home.

So we planned this trip.

But she did keep the date with you on Monday.

Where was the meeting, Mrs. Sanders?

At one of those organic food restaurants...

You know the type I mean.

Oh, yes, uh, the kind where you don't know

what it's doing to their metabolism

but it's certainly making their hair grow.

Well, we-we talked the whole thing out,

and she agreed that she would come back home with us.

And we all agreed that we would try to bend over backwards

with each other, more than we had.

Then she had to pack and say goodbye to some friends.

But she said that she would see us at our hotel in Beverly Hills

by 10:00 that night.

Naturally, she didn't give you her new address

or her new phone number. Of course not.

Do you happen to know the name of her, uh, young man?

Eric with a "C" Garvin.

G-A-R-V-I-N.

Do you recall the name of the restaurant?

It was on Sunset Boulevard.

Just past Doheny.

I'll never forget that name.

"Granola Central Station."

Why should I know where this Eric Garvin hangs out?

They told me up in Topanga to try here.

And then a couple of guys in Venice and then Judy.

Which Judy is that?

Krysti's friend, Judy.

I don't know this Garvin.

And if there's any heat, I don't wanna know him.

I am not "the heat."

I'm just trying to do the guy a favor.

I got the documents right here to make him heir to $1,100.

Believe me, I don't make enough out of it

to horse around with people

who see a narc under every tie and white shirt.

You got my card with my phone number on it.

Next time he comes in, tell him to call me.

No sweat, my friend.

And nobody's agitated.

But you can understand why we play it

a little cautious, right?

Do you know where Diego Street is?

You go up Laurel Canyon, hang a left at the store.

Eric's got a crash pad made out of an old bus.

You go over a white bridge and you can't miss it.

Doesn't sound like it.

Thanks.

♪ ♪

(door creaks)

(door creaking)

Howdy!

My name's Fletcher.

Are you interested in this property?

No, I'm just looking for the people living here.

Living?! (wry laugh)

In that?!

Well, there's a couple of squatters hanging around.

You can guess the type.

I'm sorry, maybe they're friends of yours.

A young fellow and a girl.

Name seems to have escaped me.

Eric Garvin and Krysti are the people I'm looking for.

How do you spell those?

Well, Mr. Fletcher... If your name is Fletcher...

I'm wondering why a real estate broker

would be that interested in a couple of squatters.

If you are a real estate broker.

I'm a police officer.

Well, Mr. Jones, what's your interest in this?

I represent the girl's parents; she's a runaway.

Naturally.

I imagine that, uh, the Department's interest

is a little more serious than that.

Like murder.

Officially, they're wanted for questioning

on the Anthony Bloom homicide and robbery.

Eric can't move.

I hear you.

He has to move, Krysti.

You're gonna have to split, man.

Both of you.

I-I-I can feel fuzz all over the neighborhood

after what the radio said

about them looking for a couple of street people.

You better take off, Krysti.

You've got someplace to go, now do what I tell you.

Can you sit up and eat this or shall I help you?

We haven't got time for anything, Krys.

Artemis is right.

Look, whatever you decide to do... I'm not leaving you.

I'm... I'm gonna stay with you.

Okay.

We're both leaving.

Grab your stuff.

Artemis, can we use your bus?

Uh, sure, yeah.

Uh, I'll tell them you ripped me off.

Go down the back way and get it started.

Hey, we can make it.

Hello, Miss Sanders.

I can't make a judgment because I don't know the facts.

But just because I'm not a cop

doesn't mean there are not cops behind me.

Yeah, how close?

At the health food store,

tracking back, just the way I did.

Eric and I didn't do it.

Don't you believe me?

It's the truth.

I mean, we couldn't kill anybody.

What difference does it make, huh?

I mean, we were around there and we're long-haired hippies.

And that's the label, man.

I mean, we're guilty, right?

Anything they want to pin on us.

All right, what really happened that night?

Okay, you went to Eric's to say goodbye

and pick up your things.

Yes, pick up my debutante's wardrobe.

Eric and I had sort of an argument.

He said that I was copping out if I went back.

And like a stupid jerk,

I started through this empty lot

and I, uh, fell in the dark and my leg snapped.

Thought it was ligaments or something.

I didn't know it was broken.

Couldn't even put some kind of weight on it.

You know what I mean?

So we went back up the road to try to hitch a ride.

Do you think anybody would stop for us?

Then you did go by the Bloom house where the murder occurred?

The only place that we stopped

was this place where there were lots of people and cars.

They wouldn't even let us in to use the telephone.

Remember the address?

It was a big party.

Valet parking, you know, the whole bit.

And then we went on down the canyon.

His, his leg was hurt really bad and we had to get to a hospital.

Then this guy stopped and gave us a ride.

Look, this joker isn't gonna do any good for us.

Let's get out of here, huh?

BARNABY: Eric...

what I found out, it's pretty tough

trying to get your ideas across when you're running away

from somebody yelling over your shoulder.

The only chance we've got is to run.

On one leg?

You got the keys, Krys?

Sure.

Artie?

ARTEMIS: Hey, uh...

good luck, you guys, huh?

All the luck in the world is not gonna help them too much.

Wh-What key do you want me to wind up now, Pops, huh?

Law and order?

Or the younger generation and the evils of pot? Huh?

Glad you decided to come, darling.

You know how sorry I am

that you have to go through all this.

All this time since it happened.

And the statements I've made to everybody.

I can't help remembering you were in that bedroom so long.

Darling, I was in there because I kept on getting a busy signal.

I had to get through to Tony as soon as he finished.

I just kept on dialing.

Gail, I never left that house.

There wasn't time enough for that, anyway.

I want to believe...

It is the truth.

And if I tell you it is the truth, it is.

Okay?

The police know who did it.

The reason that phone was busy

is because Tony was calling them.

There were a couple of freaked-out hippies

in that place, going through it.

Before they killed him...

he did get to the phone

and gave them some sort of description.

Then you're definitely in the clear.

Of course I'm in the clear.

Except for one thing:

I need the Park file.

When will the police let you back into the house?

Is it still in the house?

The file?

Where else could it be?

Darling, I need that file.

You're gonna have to get it for me.

Okay?

You're so beautiful.

(gate opening)

Hello. STEVE: Hello.

I'm looking for Mr. Kingston.

I am Steven Kingston.

My name's Jones, Mr. Kingston.

I'm a detective.

Your cleaning woman said I might find you out here.

Oh. I'll see you later, Steve.

Call me at Winnie's.

I'll clear it with Lieutenant Keough

for you to get back into the house, Gail.

Excuse me.

She's Gail Bloom.

That's right.

I represent her now.

The three of us were very close.

It's incredible. Tragic.

But I believe that I told

Lieutenant Keough everything already.

You know, the shocking thing is that it could've happened

to any one of us living up here.

Or down at the beach or in Beverly Hills

or anyplace else.

Nobody's safe.

Please, Jones, have a seat; make yourself comfortable.

Okay.

These people, no sense of morality anymore.

No qualms about breaking in

or holding a knife to your throat

or knocking you over the head.

And that's what's frightening.

"These people"?

Yeah, the two hippies.

Oh, would you like a drink?

No, thank you.

Uh, how did you find out about the hippies?

It was on the news, you know, on television, too.

I didn't think the case against them was that strong, myself.

Why not?

Well, the one with the broken leg,

uh, he couldn't do much, could he?

Now Lieutenant Keough didn't tell me about that one.

Huh.

But from what I heard about the struggle

that Tony Bloom put up,

maybe he broke the guy's leg in the fight.

Or... or maybe the other one actually killed Tony Bloom.

The other one was a girl.

Or didn't the lieutenant tell you that, either?

It was a girl?

Oh, that's incredible.

Well, some of those girls these days...

I guess you just can't tell the difference anymore, can you?

Now tell me, Jones, how does Lieutenant Keough like a man

on his staff to go against his own murder theory?

Who, me?

What makes you think I'm on Lieutenant Keough's staff?

You told me you were a detective.

What's this all about?

Aren't you a detective?

Private detective.

I wanted to talk to you because I was told

you gave the party that night.

That's right.

And Mrs. Bloom was here.

I mean, that's all a matter of record.

Tony Bloom was late coming home and...

he was gonna come along later.

So...

You had valet parking?

I certainly did, yes.

Well, I want to find out what outfit you used

and get the names of the car jockeys that were here.

Why?

The, uh, two suspects...

Uh, the, uh, young hippies...

Uh, said that they talked to the parking attendant

and asked to use the phone.

Well, if they did that

before they passed the Bloom house,

it kind of rules out the possibility

that they beat up on Mr. Bloom

and murdered him, wouldn't you say?

Hmm...

Yeah, I guess you're right.

Now, what if... well, what if he actually

broke the guy's leg in the fight?

Doesn't seem logical that they would limp back up here

and talk to people, be seen...

Make their identification that much easier, does it?

No, it doesn't. You're right.

So what you want from me is the valet parking service?

That's all.

Be a very great help, Mr. Kingston.

Glad to help.

Chuck has his own service.

I've used him for years.

I've got his number right here, so I can give it to you.

You know the biggest problem

parking cars in Southern California?

Making sure your legs don't give out on you.

Tower Road, Summit Drive...

The old calf muscles and tendons, I'll tell you.

Yeah, I have the same hazards in my profession.

Now, uh, about those two...

They were coming west on Mulholland?

Right, the 8900 block.

And we were swamped.

Party just starting to swing, so I had to say no.

Wasn't one of 'em hurt?

Yeah, his leg.

The guy was really in pain.

The girl practically had to hold him up.

I hated to have to say no dice,

but I work for Mr. Kingston a lot,

and I know he's got a short fuse.

Then they went on by, down the hill, to the 8700 block?

Yeah, they mumbled something hostile and kept on going.

Would you be able to identify them?

Tell you the truth, Mr. Jones,

I never pay much attention to faces.

Radiator grills, yes.

People, no.

Lieutenant, I guess that cleans it up for me.

Okay, Ames, I'll see you downtown.

You talk to Barnaby Jones yet?

Got here just a few minutes ago

with that open-faced,

friendly smile of his, you know.

Where is he?

BARNABY: Right here. Will, uh...

I'd like to talk to you.

Have you got a minute? Just.

Well, Lieutenant, I think I'll take this stuff down to the lab.

So long, Ames.

Will, uh, one of the kids you're questioning is a client of mine.

Tough. Which one?

The girl.

Well, she needs a lawyer, too.

More than she needs you right now.

Will...

a 90-pound teenager beats a six-foot man to death?

It's a cinch, if the boyfriend's holding him.

Not such a cinch if the boyfriend's got a broken leg.

Listen, I know they said it happened earlier,

falling down a hill or something.

Do you know I can deliver a witness who will confirm it?

Who?

The valet parking attendant at the Kingston party.

You got to him first?

How come we missed him? (door closes)

Ames? Ames!

(groans)

Somebody's going to get chopped off at the pockets.

How reliable's the statement?

Time check out?

Seems to.

But what I really want is permission from you

to talk to the Sanders girl.

Sure.

Listen, uh, as long as you're

laying your cards on the table,

what does Eric Garvin and the Sanders girl have to say about

how he got to the emergency hospital to get his leg set?

Hitched.

Car picked them up near Lookout Mountain.

That's a lie.

They stole the car, Barnaby.

We found it in the hospital parking lot,

covered with their prints.

Thanks for telling me. Whose car?

The victim's... Tony Bloom.

You're both in a mess of trouble, young lady!

You need all the help you can get!

And whether or not you get it from me

depends on when you start telling the truth!

Now, one more lie and I drop it, you understand?

Okay!

Yes, sir.

Look, the only reason that we went to the Bloom house was,

was to try to call Arty so he would come and get us.

We rang and we rang and nobody came to the door.

So we ripped off the car.

But, but we never went inside.

And we sure never killed anybody.

You were more or less

identified by four people:

Two guests who arrived about the time you did,

the parking attendant

and a woman walking her poodle.

Did you happen to see anybody outside

who may have committed the murder?

Wow.

There was a valet.

We talked to him.

And there was a car that drove up just then.

We asked them.

Oh, and there was this guy that looked like

he was leaving the house and then,

and then he went back into the house around to the side, like.

Could you identify him?

Heck, no.

I probably wouldn't have remembered him,

except that he was wearing very fancy threads.

Dressed all in white.

White suit?

Yeah, very Marcello Mastroianni.

Very cornball, Mr. Jones.

Is... Is that all you want?

If that's all you can tell me.

Will my mother be coming down?

I imagine she can get permission.

Well, I guess we'll both survive.

She always comes loaded with handkerchiefs.

Thank you very much, Mr. Jones.

I'll be talking to you day after tomorrow, Krysti.

They may have moved you by then.

Hybrid Talisman?

Reporter or policeman?

I'm Barnaby Jones, ma'am. Private investigator.

Well, first time in my life I ever have detectives

asking me questions, and not one of them's younger than me.

Well, I always knew I missed my chance with Bogie.

Actually, I want to talk to Mrs. Bloom.

I understand she's staying with you.

Oh, no, no... She went back to her own house.

I guess everyone knows which one it is now.

She's probably there.

I wanted to ask you a question about the party.

Who was wearing the white suit?

White suit?!

(scoffs) Nobody was wearing a white suit.

Well, maybe the bartender.

No... No, he was wearing a red mess jacket.

Nobody was wearing a white suit, Mr. Jones.

Why did you think that?

Must have been mistaken.

Thank you very much, Mrs. Harbeck.

Oh, just a minute, Mr. Jones.

You are a good detective.

It is a hybrid Talisman.

(phone ringing)

Hello?

GAIL (on phone): Steve?

Did you find the file, darling?

No, I'm still looking.

I think you ought to know...

That detective who talked to you, the gray-haired one?

Yes, what about him?

He was here.

He just left.

He wanted to know what suit you wore at the party.

So he asked you, too, huh?

Winnie just told me that he had been to her house.

What's it all about?

Oh, it's nothing important, really.

Listen, uh, maybe it's best if you don't call me, uh...

unless, well, you know what I mean.

Ah, yes, I understand.

Um, and I'm still looking.

Okay.

All right, keep at it. Bye.

Well, you back again, Jones?

I'm afraid so, for a minute.

(chuckles) Come on in.

You got ahold of Chuck all right?

Oh, yeah.

Did you get what you needed?

Yes, yes, fine.

Thank you very much.

Well, I hope you don't mind if I do my 30 laps.

No, no, not at all.

I hate to miss a day, you know?

I feel the same way Mark Twain did

about physical exercise.

When I get the urge, I lie down immediately

till it goes away. (laughs)

That's a good one.

So what did Chuck have to say?

He confirmed that he had seen Garvin and Sanders...

Garvin with the bad leg...

Just about the time that they said he had.

He also said they asked to use the telephone,

but he told them that you wouldn't like it.

That's right.

So now you came to straighten out the business

about the white suit and the blue sweater, huh?

I see that, uh,

both of the ladies have already called.

Well...

I am Mrs. Bloom's attorney, you know, Jones.

She very correctly told me that you had been by.

Without, by the way, telling her that you are not on the force.

As for Winnie Harbeck,

she'd call a man on any excuse.

Well, you got your story down pat.

At the beginning of the party...

I was wearing a white suit.

I spilled a Bloody Mary on it... On the jacket...

So I had to change.

It's as simple as that.

Okay?

If you were wearing a white suit,

then you were the man that Garvin and Sanders saw

when they were outside with Chuck.

I went outside to the car,

because I left a case of booze in the trunk.

If they saw you, Mr. Kingston,

there's an even better chance that you saw them.

Come to think of it...

I remember Chuck talking to somebody.

I just thought they were some of the guests, you know?

(laughing)

You look kind of skeptical about me changing clothes, Jones.

I don't mean to.

It makes good sense.

But it would be a lot easier to accept

if you hadn't already sent the suit out to the cleaner's.

Cleaner's pickup is tomorrow, Jones.

And the suit, Jones, is right in there.

Here. Let's see now.

Take a look.

Yeah... Looks like a couple of things...

including blood. (chuckles)

You want to take a bet, Jones?

No, I don't want to bet.

I got too many things on my mind.

Oh, yeah?

Like what?

Like, uh, let's assume

that those kids did not murder Mr. Bloom.

Well, as a lawyer, I'd have to say

that no proper foundation was laid for that.

All right, uh, try a little foundation.

The desk sergeant who took the call from the Bloom house

logged a message like this: "Two guys broke into my house.

They beat me."

Now, wouldn't you think that Mr. Bloom

would've noticed if one of them was a girl?

Yeah, you'd think so. Yeah.

I think the murderer made that call.

He remembered seeing those kids in this area somewhere,

not too clearly, and he's trying to lay it off on them.

Aha, Dr. Watson, you already tricked me

into admitting I did see them.

Look, I'm just noodling around with all this.

I'm trying to make some sense out of it.

Do me a favor, Jones.

Stop noodling around with something called "motive"

for me to have killed my good friend Tony Bloom.

All right?

I saw the glimmer of a motive out by the pool.

My! What big eyes you have, Grandpa.

Gail and I embraced each other.

We kiss... people do that, you know?

For more than one reason.

Especially if there was a death in the family.

It didn't quite seem like a kiss of condolence.

Or a kiss a lawyer might give his client.

You are serious, aren't you?

A crime of passion... How romantic.

And how ridiculous.

Lovers don't kill spouses today, Jones.

They just move in together.

Besides, I got a girl.

You know what she is?

She's a biology major at UCLA.

Now, why don't you go down to Lieutenant Keough

and tell him all about your theory,

because I'm quite sure he'll get a good laugh out of it.

I might just do that.

They could use a good laugh down at headquarters.

(laughing): Right.

(engine starts)

It's got to be here.

Well, maybe Tony had a messenger

pick it up before...

Look, darling, I don't know what Tony might have put

into that file, but I don't want Spencer to get ahold of it.

What about the bedroom?

Barnaby, you told me you would stop at 7:00.

I'm almost finished.

What'd you find out?

The stain on top may have been a Bloody Mary,

but something tells me that underneath

is blood that he tried to wipe off.

Uh-huh, did it check out?

No.

Tomato juice with just a trace of Worcestershire.

A Bloody Mary without a drop of blood.

Barnaby, do you have to be told that some people

in this building would call this withholding evidence?

Well, how can you say I'm withholding evidence

when I'm laying it right in your lap?

How did you get it?

Marilyn, you there?

I'll have to send this to the lab

and get these stains analyzed.

Now, hold it, Lieutenant.

I've already analyzed it.

It's nothing but "citric acid, ascorbic acid,

sodium chloride and pulp... " tomato juice.

Yes, Lieutenant.

Morning Mr. Jones. Good morning.

Tell Dr. Tanaka that the good fairy left this

in a basket on my doorstep and I'd like him to take...

Hold it, uh... What now?

I struck out on the stain,

but isn't it kind of a funny thing to have up your sleeve

if you've been wearing the jacket...

Price tag still sewed in?

He didn't wear this.

Brand-new, right off the rack. He set me up.

You're saying he got rid of the jacket with the blood on it.

The real blood. Maybe.

Or maybe he wore it with the price tag in it.

I've done it. How long ago?

Last time I wore anything with a price tag in it

was a pair of knickers that my mother gave me for Easter,

because she wanted to prove she could afford

to give everybody a new outfit.

Well, I'm sorry to say

it still doesn't make things look better for those kids.

About those kids,

if they were dumb enough to leave prints

all over the Bloom car, how come they were smart enough

not to leave any prints inside the Bloom house

when they're supposed to be struggling with him?

Barnaby, you've got too many friends in this department.

Who let you in on that?

You did, Wilbur... just now.

I was only guessing.

Anything else I ought to know?

I think I'm still one up on you.

Well, I have here a transcript

from Charles Vlahos, the parking attendant,

only you already know all about his testimony.

And then there's a one-pager here

from Jonathan Hughes Spencer,

head of the law firm that Bloom was with...

And Kingston was with also...

Saying that Tony Bloom had called Spencer

minutes before he was killed.

He had something of vital importance to discuss with him,

about which Spencer knows nothing more

and I doubt if any of us ever will.

Thanks.

Guess that makes us even.

(engine starts)

♪ ♪

I'm sorry if I frightened you, Mrs. Bloom.

Mr. Jones, I'm sorry, I...

I don't have time to talk to you.

You know what's in that?

Personal papers that don't concern you.

Mr. Jones, I'm sorry, I have nothing to discuss with you.

I don't know exactly what's in there,

but Mr. Kingston does, doesn't he?

He's not here. But he knows.

And I know that whatever is in there

is the reason your husband was murdered.

No... no, he was murdered

by those hippie kids who broke in to rob the house.

These are private papers.

Mrs. Bloom, it figures that those papers

are the reason your husband wanted to talk

to Mr. Spencer that night.

Will you please leave me alone and get out of this house?

All right, if you want to shield the man who killed your husband,

that's one thing.

But I don't believe you do.

No man goes through a rigmarole with jackets

like that unless there's something pretty feathery.

And he saw two men in the darkness,

just as the murderer did when he called the police.

Jones, put up your hands.

Steve.

And move to the fireplace.

GAIL: What are you doing?

STEVE: Put your hands above it.

And spread your legs apart.

Steve, what did he mean when he said...

Shut up.

I won't shut up. I want to know.

Laying a foundation for you, Kingston.

You wanted a foundation.

It's a motive, Mrs. Bloom.

Steve, you swore to me you didn't...

Now, be quiet... and open the door, Gail.

Open it! (gasps)

Now, Gail, you and I weren't here,

but inquisitive Mr. Jones was here, as he was here before

when he stole my jacket.

Now, unfortunately he went outside,

he slipped on the wet deck...

he cracked his skull,

he fell into the pool and he drowned.

Now you got that?

Steve, why?

Because I say so, Gail.

Mr. Kingston, uh, you mind if I suggest a bargain?

You haven't got much to trade, Jones.

Except that if you kill me,

Mrs. Bloom will probably decide that you

actually did kill her husband,

(gas hissing) and right now, she's not quite sure.

And, uh, if you stage an accident

that brings on more questions... Lots of questions...

Because, believe it or not, I've got some friends

in Homicide and some more

scattered through the Department.

And they will hang on like bulldogs until they're

absolutely certain there was no foul play.

Mr. Kingston, you've got me covered, uh...

do you mind if I turn around and look you in the eye?

You just talk, Jones.

Now, you're a very smart lawyer.

All you need is a little time.

A little time in the office to straighten things out

to sort of get things in shape,

in condition.

Why don't we burn that report

and all of Tony's notes.

Then nobody will know.

And I'll walk out of here with a healthy skull

and you two will be home free.

Yes.

Please, no killing.

I wish I could burn everything.

I'm glad I don't know what's in here.

Steve, please do it.

Do as he says.

Open it.

Take out the file and bring it to me.

Now, light it.

(explosive whoosh, Gail gasps)

Stand right where you are.

And she testified against Kingston... Mrs. Bloom did?

Yes, Krysti.

Even true love doesn't run smooth.

And theirs was kind of rough all the way.

Well, ours is going to be different from now on.

I hope. So do I.

Won't be easy.

Nothing's easy today.

But, every once in a while,

some of you old establishment guys surprise me.

Anyhow, uh... you did, Mr. Jones.

Thanks, Eric.

You know, uh, one of these days, maybe your parents

and Krysti's parents might surprise you, too.

It's amazing how much we grown-ups

can learn in a couple of years.

Dig?

(both chuckling)

Oh, I dig.

(theme music playing)