All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S05E20.Three.Strikes.You re.Out.WEBRip.x264-ION10

Randolph is old enough to be your father.

At least let him live long enough

to dole out our meal money
before you give him a heart attack.

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Hell of a hit, Mike.
You must have swung with your eyes open.

I got each of you boys a fair amount
of money to play ball this year.

So that’s what you do, you play ball.

[chattering]

I hope you don’t think that I’m...

-...butting in here.
-Butt away, ma’am.

If you’re so interested in male anatomy,

I can give you a good look at mine -
all of it.

[laughing, chatting]
[Jessica] Yes, that’s right.

I’m trying to reach
my nephew Johnny Eaton.

But he couldn’t have
checked out yesterday.

No. No, I told him that when I finish
my writers’ seminar here in Scottsdale,

I’d drive over to Tucson
and watch him in spring training.

Yes. Yes, I understand.

Thank you.

[knock on door]

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

Your, uh, car to Tucson is ready
when you are, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, I’m afraid I’ve had
a change of plan.

There’s a noon flight
to Boston that I’d like to catch.

Yes, ma’am. I’ll have the concierge call
and make a reservation for you.

Wait. Did you see this?

[groans] Did I see it?

This is my nephew on the front page.

[chuckles]
-Your nephew is Mike Warlop?

No, my nephew is Johnny Eaton.

Warlop’s the best hitter
my Comets have had in 20 years,

and they go and trade him
for these two nobodies.

Nobodies?

-Oh, uh, no offense.
-Just a moment.

This says that they
train here in Scottsdale.

Yes, ma’am.
Comets always stay in this inn.

Ballplayers are good tippers.
At least the stars are.

Listen to me.
"Traded" does not mean "let go."

The Comets really wanted you guys
very badly this year. Remember that.

Al, what they wanted
was the five million in cash.

We’re just the " two players
to be named later" who was named now.

I lost the glove I pitched
my triple-a no-hitter with.

-What do I do, Al?
-What do you do?

What do you do? You play ball.

I got you two guys a fair amount
of money to play ball this year,

so that’s what you do,
you go out and play ball,

whether you make
the Comets’ major league roster

or they send you down to a farm club.

-I heard the Comet fans boo at funerals.
-Listen. This swap makes sense.

Mike Warlop is 35 years old.

That shoulder injury he got last season
sat him down for a month.

Not since Campy and Newcombe have I seen
battery mates like you two guys.

Why don’t you prove it?
Show me what you got.

Come on, Charley. Let’s play ball.

[chattering]

It’s gonna be weird seeing Mike Warlop
in a Titan uniform this afternoon.

Trading Mike for two guys
you never heard of...

nothing lasts forever, I guess.

Damn owner keeps up this youth movement,

I won’t last till
Fourth of July fireworks night.

[laughs]

[man] Hey, look. The young guys are out.

Well, well.

Looks like the two guys on the front page
of the Scottsdale herald.

Welcome aboard, fellas. I’m Pete Briggs.

Johnny Eaton.

-Hey, Johnny.
-Charley Holcombe. I’m a catcher.

K-Kel! You’ve always been griping about

catching both ends of a double-header.

-Well, help’s on the way.
-Wake me when it gets here.

Kel has a fear of young catchers

who can squat and get up
without help from the umpire.

Come on. I’ll introduce you
to the brains of the organization.

-Mr. Randolph, the owner?
-No. Harry Dial, the manager.

Harry Dial?
Maybe we ought to change first.

Relax, Johnny. Harry’s temper
is just eyewash for the press.

Hey, Skip! Look here.

Fresh blood.

With this that publicity hound Randolph
expects me to win a pennant?

[chuckles] I must be stupid.

I thought I was gonna set a club record
by lasting a full season.

Now you hold on there a second, Sir.

My roomie’s fastball has been clocked
at 95 miles an hour.

And the bus that’ll take you two bozos

back to the minors was clocked at 110.

[man] Cover yourselves.
Female on premises.

[chattering, hooting]

Okay, get it out of your system, fellas.

This is going to be a daily occurrence.

Meet this season’s new TV
pregame show hostess.

Let’s see.

Johnny Eaton, 16 and 6 last year
with Evanston. Big fastball, so-so curve.

[man] Not bad.

Charley Holcombe, 112 ribbies, 22 homers.

You did your homework, miss Lee.

I called the Titans for your stats,
and your hometown papers.

Well, I’d like to talk ribbies
with you anytime, ma’am.

[Dial] Loretta.

Loretta, I’ve told you before,

front-office personnel
are not allowed in here.

Aw, Harry.

How’d you like to be my guest
on the first TV pregame show

we’re sending back home?

Your guest? Oh, I get it.

Let me give you an education
about something, young lady.

Around here, ERA means
"earned run average,"

not "equal rights amendment."

Catch up with the world, Harry.

Mr. Randolph’s making changes
on the broadcast team and on the field.

Maybe even managerial.

Randolph is old enough to be your father.

At least let him live long enough
to dole out our meal money

before you give him a heart attack.

Look, I take myself seriously, Harry.

Maybe you should too.

[chattering]

[man] All right. Good throw.

[man announcing on PA]
For you Comet fans, a reminder

that Wednesday is button day.

Your favorite Comets on free buttons
with every paid admission.

And Mike Warlop buttons
for sale in the parking lot.

No trades accepted.

[man] Get your ice-cold beer here.

[announcer] Your favorite snacks
and Comets t-shirts for sale

at the snack bars.

Go get ’em, Comets fans.

-Jessica, there you are.
-Johnny, no. You’re here.

I was already in Scottsdale.

Oh, Johnny, you know, your mother
and your family we’re all just delighted.

The paper said this trade
could be a big opportunity.

Well, the sportswriters
don’t have to play for Harry Dial.

-Oh, who’s Harry Dial?
[Dial] Hey, Eaton!

Quit jabberin’ and get your butt in gear,

or you and your aunt Minnie’ll owe me
six laps around the field.

[laughs] Maybe we should have dinner
later at the hotel?

Yeah.

[man] Get your bats and helmets.
Bats and helmets.

-Excuse me. You must be Mrs. Fletcher.
-Yes?

Yes. Your nephew told me that we
would be sitting together. I’m Al Sidell.

-Oh, how do you do?
-How do you do?

You and Rex Stout
are the ones that keep me awake

when I travel
the minor league motel circuit.

-Very enjoyable company indeed.
-Well, thank you.

Uh, are you with the Comets?

Oh, no, no. The hat?
No, I just bought that.

See, I used to be a sportswriter,
and a couple of years ago

I was doing a magazine piece
on life in the minor leagues.

That’s when I discovered
your nephew and Charley Holcombe.

Oh, yes, of course.

You’re the man who got Johnny
and his catcher their first pro contract.

Well, yeah, if you call a year in Arkansas

for meal and haircut money
a pro contract, I’ll go along.

There’s the manager. Have you met him?

Well, he has, uh, spoken to me.

Harry, the question everyone’s asking:

can a triple-a pitcher
and an unproven catcher

make up for the loss of a veteran slugger?

Well, you fans back home read my lips.

Come next October,
you’ll be dancing in the streets.

We’ll be right back
with the starting lineups

after a word from Sugarfoot Radial Tires.

Admit it, Skip. She’s better-looking
than the guy we had last season.

[chuckles]
-Hey, Roz!

Hi, baby! Go get ’em.

That’s Pete Briggs. Lifetime 306 hitter.

308. I’m Roz, Pete’s wife.

Hiya. And this is Kel’s wife, Nancy.

You’re sitting
in the family section, Sugar.

Right where I belong.
I’m Johnny Eaton’s aunt.

You been down since camp opened?

I have. Some of the boys

need a little help resisting
those baseball Annies.

-Baseball Annies, huh?
-Yeah.

That’s the women who find
ballplayers attractive,

in or out of uniform.

[chuckling] What I meant...
-I know what you meant, Al.

[chattering]

What is that scoreboard flashing?

[Sidell] That’s WP, wild pitch.

[man] Steam it by.
[man 2] Come on, Johnny.

Callin’ for that fastball,

it was like the manager or Kel

wanted Johnny to throw the homer
to Warlop on purpose.

Maybe to show Johnny up.

[laughter]

Look at ’em over there.
Probably laughing at me.

Replaying it ain’t gonna
change that pitch.

Look, folks, I’m sorry, but I’m beat.

I got a 20-minute drive back to my motel.

Oh, you’re not staying here?

Mr. Randolph is not responsible
for my accommodations.

There’s one good thing
about the Cactus Motel.

The maids don’t barge in
in the morning to change your sheets.

-Good night, all.
-Good night.

Well, it’s three more here
with the Titans,

then we travel to Yuma.

You makin’ the trip?

I only got here this morning, honey,

and that’s the second time you’ve asked me
if I’m going to Yuma.

It’s just hard for me
to entertain you, honey.

My mind’s only
on making contact at the plate.

So where’d she come from?

[no audible dialogue]

You just make sure
you make contact at the plate.

Okay, honey? No place else.

Frankly, Loretta, I wasn’t
thrilled by your inference

that I got the shaft in the Titans trade.

Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Randolph,
but I’m not sure

whether being strapped for cash

or his calling you
Mussolini in the papers

are reason enough to unload him.

The man hit ten less homers
last year than ever before.

He’s a broken-down plug, Loretta,
and I got five mil for him,

plus a couple of fresh, young colts.

Now, why would the Titans
want a broken-down plug, hmm?

Or is there something I’m missing?

You weren’t wearing this last year.

You’ve got a choice to make, my dear.

You can go back to peddling
mop-up relief pitchers

at sneaker store openings,

or you can enjoy giving
the fans the starting lineup.

When I’m a million-a-year
network sports anchor,

the fans can get their own
starting lineups.

-Hello again.
-Oh, hello.

We met outside the clubhouse
before today’s game.

Oh, yes, of course. I really
like the way you handle your show.

Thank you.

I know this is gonna sound corny,
but I really admire you.

-Me?
-Well, the hours that you put in

to make it in a man’s world.
I put in those hours, too,

even if the things I know about
broken-down plugs

and fresh colts can’t be aired,

at least, not right away.

You know, I’m interviewing
Johnny and Charley tomorrow,

and I’m just a little confused.

Now, where did they first play together?

Well, I’m-I’m not sure, professionally,

but I can tell you
that Johnny was unbeatable

at Herbert Hoover high school
in Waterloo, Iowa.

Actually, it’s Charley I’m stuck on.

Oh. Yes, well, he is, uh,
bubbling over with boyish charm.

Mrs. Fletcher, baseball
isn’t a game about charm.

It’s a game about statistics.

[chattering, laughing]

-Aha!
-[grunts]

-Hey, nice out, cowboy.
-Yeah.

Irving, I sure hope your pitchers
love me in September as they did today.

Hell of a hit, Mike. You must have swung
with your eyes open.

Say, what is this, Loretta?

Suddenly you’re no longer
into community relations.

Relations were always your best stat.

Any plans after dinner?

I’m making some calls, Mike.
I’m a working girl.

Oh, no argument there.

The lady said no, thank you.
Knock it off, Irving.

-I don’t take orders from you anymore.
[Dial] Hey, big Mike.

A guy with your salary ought to be able

to find some lady in the bar
for the evening.

Oh, you mean that all the girls in here

have already been bought.

[gasps]
[woman screams]

[woman 2] Watch out!
-Mike.

[woman 3] Somebody call the cops.

[patrons clamoring]

Take it easy, Mike. Relax, relax, relax.
Relax, Mike.

[woman]
Please call the police.

You better come with me, ma’am.

He’s killing Mr. Randolph.

From what I hear, that’s not possible.
Let’s get out of here.

You feelin’ better now, miss Lee?

A lot better, thank you.

Uh, I don’t suppose that you got
a soda handy, do ya?

I sure do. Come on in, big fella.

Anything pretty as you in Arkansas

was usually on the other side
of the state line.

[chuckles] You know, Charley,

you have that Lil' Abner routine
down pretty good.

[chuckles] But aren’t you
a little too young?

Why? How old do you think I am, ma’am?

The Titans’ media guy has you down at 23.

Mm-hmm. Well, Arkansas boys,
they grow up kind of fast.

What about you Mississippi boys?

Oh, uh, well, most of the time,
Arkansas girls throw them back.

You know, Charley, if I had to guess,

I’d put you at 25 or 26.

I don’t suppose you ever played
for a manager named Flip Phillips.

No.

No, I-I never heard of him.

Listen, ma’am, I just remembered.
I got 11:00 curfew.

Oh, well, then we have almost two hours.

But I promised Johnny
I’d go over the hitters with him.

Excuse me.

[knock on door]
[man] Miss Lee?

Miss Lee, the bus is leaving.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, I’m looking
for Loretta Lee.

So I heard.

We haven’t actually met.
My name is Avery Burns.

I’m the team’s traveling secretary.

How do you do?

She was supposed to be
downstairs 15 minutes ago.

She’s gonna miss the bus to the field.

I sure hope there’s nothing wrong.

Well, maybe she started down earlier
by herself. Or maybe she overslept.

Excuse me, miss. Could you open
this door for me, please?

[Burns] Oh, Lord!

[chattering]
[man] Yeah, I bagged everything.

[man 2] What time did you get here?

I got here about a half hour ago.

-Half hour ago?
-Oh, I don’t know. You know how it is.

Mrs. Fletcher?

Did you see anyone enter
or leave this room,

or did you hear some kind of a fight?

No, I’m sorry, Lieutenant Caseras.

But miss Lee was alive last night at 9:00,

because I saw her leaving the restaurant.

-Oh? Alone?
-With Charley Holcombe.

They were having
some sort of row at their table.

Oh! Yeah. Holcombe.

One of those two rookie nobodies
in the trade.

One of the players in the trade.

Yeah. I read about the brawl
in the morning paper.

Wouldn’t be the first time Warlop
and Randolph got into it over some woman.

Lieutenant, the dress
that miss Lee was wearing

is the same one that she wore last night.

However, her rather eye-catching necklace
is missing.

No kiddin’? Come here a second.

Empty credit card case.
Missing necklace. Drawers open.

Looks like she surprised a burglar,
there was a fight, and she was killed

when she hit her head on the table here.

Oh. And I’d better alert
the credit card company.

Lieutenant, I wonder how
this sliver of glass got here.

No. No glass broken during the struggle.

Maid must have missed it with the vacuum.

Could have been there a day, a week.

Maybe not.

Better bag it with the other evidence.

Lieutenant, the lab fella says

he’s got two sets of fingerprints
to work with.

Okay. Then let’s wrap it up.
Get that, would you?

Why waste electricity?

[man] All right, you guys go downtown,
and I’ll hang around...

I’m Lieutenant Caseras.

Look. Murder’s a messy business.

I’m sure a lot of you guys
are probably a little uneasy.

First of all, I want you to know
that, uh, I’m one of you.

A few years back I played semi-pro ball,
flagstaff flames,

until a knee injury forced me
to hang ’em up.

So I know what you’re going through.

First you lose a shot
at some pennant money

in that so-called trade.

Now this. So...

Charley Holcombe.

Let’s you and me talk, son.

You say you took her
to her door last night,

but you didn’t go in her room.

No, Sir. I just met her yesterday.

One of my officers found this matchbook
on her coffee table.

That’s from the Tucson plaza.

Three days ago you were in Titan
training in Tucson,

and that’s where you stayed, huh?

I-I must have forgot.

I did go in, but just to have a smoke.

Just a smoke.

And maybe, while you were
polluting your lungs,

you made a pass, huh?

Things got a little rough
when she said no? Huh?

[stammering] Sure, I tried,
but she turned me down.

You want my thinkin’ on it, Sir?

She’s Mr. Randolph’s private reserve.

Course, he’s old enough
to be her granddaddy.

Plowboy.

You should have stayed a Titan,

in more ways than one.

But that makes no sense.

I mean, why would the Lieutenant
single out Charley?

Because he walked her to her room?

All I can say is, Charley’s real shook up.

Look, I know it’s gonna affect
the way he plays,

but that’s not the most important thing.

I mean, this guy’s my buddy,
and I’m worried about him.

Well, yes, I can understand that.

Aunt Jess, I know you
were gonna fly back tonight,

but the way things are,
do you think you could stick around?

Just until we get this thing
with Charley settled?

All right. I was planning to come
to the game today anyway.

Maybe I’ll stumble across something
that will help.

Oh, thanks, aunt Jess.

And with you there today,
I know we’re gonna do real well.

[announcer] And at the end of three,
Titans 7, Comets 0.

[crowd chattering]

-Hi.
-Oh, hi.

Wow. 7-zip already, huh?

Well, at least Johnny and Charley
haven’t caused the damage.

Listen, I just heard
about that Loretta Lee death

on my car radio. What’s going on?

-Do they think it’s some kind of a nut?
-I wish I knew.

My room was right across
the hall from hers,

so the police questioned me,

but I didn’t see or hear anything.

Just goes to show,
you gotta be lucky just to be alive.

I had a hell of an auto accident
last night right near my motel.

Were you hurt?

No, I’m fine. Just my wallet
is gonna need major medical.

I ran right into a telephone pole.

Cop had to come,
call a tow truck, get me out of a ditch.

Eaton.
Let’s see how you handle a bat.

[announcer]
Now batting for the Comets, Johnny Eaton.

[chattering]

[crowd roars]

-Hey.
[man] Cover third. Cover third.

What does that mean out there
on the scoreboard?

Where?

The letters PB.

Oh, that means passed ball.

[crowd roars]
-You’re out!

[announcer]
Eaton hits into a double play,

doubling up Costego
and breaking his bat in the process.

Really sawed it off.

Next up for the Comets, Pete Briggs.

Where’s my bat?

Hey, rookie!

Thanks a lot, man. You used my bat.

What was all that about?

Pitchers don’t use hitters’ bats.

Sorry, man.It’s not like the game counts.

I’ll find another one.
It won’t happen again, Sir.

My. That is quite a dent.

Yeah. I couldn’t be satisfied
with a rerun of Quincy.

I had to go out for a beer
and some conversation.

Johnny, don’t worry about it.
Tomorrow is another day.

Yeah, the day I get shipped
down to the minors.

What is wrong with me?

I lose my glove.
I throw a home-run ball to Mike Warlop.

Today I kill a rally and break Pete’s bat,
and now the old soup bone’s sore.

Soup bone?

Yeah, that’s his arm.
Did you tell the trainer?

Tell him what, that I’m a Jonah?

Listen. Every athlete has his off day.

You’re no jinx.

No, aunt Jess?

I show up, I say hello to a woman,
I shake her hand, and she ends up dead.

Johnny, that’s ridiculous.
Look, you’ve worked far too hard

to entrust your future
to omens and curses.

Come on. Let’s go get a bite to eat.
What do you say?

You go ahead. I don’t feel like eating.

Doesn’t feel like eating?
That kid is sick.

Yeah, 9:00 Wednesday, department two.
Don’t forget. Write it down.

Okay. Good-bye.

Mrs. Fletcher. Well, well, well.
What brings you here?

Well, it’s my nephew Johnny Eaton.

He’s suffering
from a terrible feeling of guilt.

Yeah. I can understand
how lousy he must feel

killing the Comets’ pennant chances
this season.

Lieutenant, I’m not talking
about baseball.

He feels responsible
for Loretta’s killing.

Oh. Oh!

He feels that he’s brought
nothing but bad luck

ever since he put on a Comets uniform.

Yeah. I know.

He should have
never used Pete’s bat today.

Look, excuse me, I-I hate to put a damper
on this conversation with rationality,

but could we just set baseball aside
for just a moment?

Have you found out anything new about
miss Lee’s killing?

Well, we lifted two sets of prints
from her hotel room.

I guess that’s progress.

One’s hers, we’re still trying
to run down the other pair.

And the autopsy report said
she was killed around midnight.

Ah. And has the necklace turned up?

No, and you know, that’s a funny thing.

When we alerted the credit card companies
that the cards were stolen,

not one had reported any charges

made from the time of the theft
to the time we reported it.

-Some bad coffee?
-Oh, no, no, no. No, thank you.

Lieutenant, I hope you don’t
think that I’m butting in here.

Butt away, ma’am.

Well, it’s about her television set.

It was on this morning,
but it was tuned to a pay-movie channel.

Yes, ma’am.

Well, that sort of
contradicts your theory.

Well, I mean, to be surprised,

she would have had to have left the room

and then come back
and then found the intruder.

Right. And why would she pay
for a movie if she’s going out?

Well, what is far more likely is that she
was sitting there watching the movie,

somebody came to the door -
somebody that she knew -

and so she very willingly let them in.

I’ll call the hotel,

find out what time she put on
the pay-movie channel.

There’s just one other thing, Lieutenant.

This morning, I couldn’t help but notice

that you removed a piece of paper
from Loretta’s nightstand.

You mean this?

It’s the phone number
of a bail bondsman in Mississippi.

His office took a call. He was out.

And whoever it was,
left Loretta’s hotel phone number.

When he called back, she was already dead.

He doesn’t know why she called.

And neither do I.

But cheer up.

We’re making progress.

[Sidell] So I’m sittin’ in the press box,

covering the old New York Giants
for the old New York Telegram.

It’s the bottom of the ninth.

Bobby Thompson comes up against
the Dodgers’ Ralph Branca,

with the pennant on the line.

-Bobby Thompson swings--
-Who’s Bobby Thompson?

"Who’s Bobby Thompson?"

The Giants were once in New York?

I don’t believe you guys.

Excuse me, Harry.

What do you say, Lieutenant?
Belly up to the bar. I’ll buy you a drink.

Thanks anyway. I’m on duty.

Look. I have to know the whereabouts
of your players last night

around midnight, give or take an hour.

What do I look like, a babysitter?
Let me tell you something.

Any of those clowns are not in their room
by 11:00, it’s a thousand-dollar fine.

Now, the second time, it’s five grand.

The third time...
[chuckles]

well, I figure the broad
is really worth it,

and I get to keep
the phone number myself.

Well, did you assess any fines last night?

In this quiet burg? I was asleep by 11:00.

If you’re asleep,
how you gonna catch anybody?

For what it’s worth, Lieutenant,

-Roz and I went to bed around 11:00.
-I can vouch for that.

And like the Skip says,
in a town like this,

what are you gonna do
that’s worth a thousand-dollar fine?

-Especially when your wife’s in town.
[chuckles]

Lieutenant?

Excuse me.

Mrs. Fletcher?
Thought you might like to know,

you know that second set of prints
we were working on?

Well, we found them on a glass.

On that tiny piece
that I found on the rug?

No, ma’am. On a drinking glass.

With a little help from the FBI computers,
we made a match.

Prints belong to a guy
who jumped bail in Mississippi

two years ago on an assault charge.

His name is Freddie Masters.

Well, I sure hope you find that guy.
I liked that lady.

Oh, we found him.

Masters changed his name,
lied about his age, his background.

Nowadays he calls himself
Charley Holcombe.

Charley? No, wait a minute.
That’s impossible. It’s not Charley.

Loretta found out about your past, son.

On her nightstand she had the number
of the bail bondsman you skipped out on.

Would you stand up, please, Mr. Masters?

I’m booking you on suspicion of murder.

[Holcombe]
I jumped bail, ’cause I was scared.

Ma’am, I never assaulted
that woman back in Mississippi.

She picked me out of a lineup by mistake.

But Charley, you did leave your room
after curfew last night, didn’t you?

Yes, ma’am.
I-I couldn’t go down to the lounge.

I might have got spotted and fined,

so I just drove till I found a little bar.

I gave some girls my autograph,
and I had a couple beers.

Well, that’s not a bad alibi,
if you can prove it.

Well, sure I can. The name of the place
was, uh, Take A Chance Saloon,

or the Last Chance Saloon,
something like that.

Hey, I remember somebody
I seen there that night.

Maybe I shouldn’t say nothin’.

Charley, you’re facing a murder charge.

He never saw me, you understand.
I... Oh, I-I don’t know, ma’am.

You know, if this come out,
he could get fined and...

Heck, ma’am, the thing is,
is I copied my swing after him.

For heavens sakes, who?

Pete Briggs.

Really?

Well, then he lied at the bar,
and his wife backed him up.

You know, there’s another thing.

Just before she was killed,
Loretta tried to pump me for information,

and one thing she said
I didn’t understand at all.

Something about a-a broken-down plug
being traded for two fresh colts.

"Broken-down plug"?

Well, that just means an old veteran
who’s hobbled with injuries.

Like Mike Warlop?

Al told me that he missed a whole month
last season with a separated shoulder.

Oh, yes, ma’am. Onliest way I can figure
it is Mr. Randolph and Mr. Dial,

they-they thought Mike was through,
so they dumped him.

I suppose they’d have medical records
for something like that.

Oh, yes, ma’am. But why do you ask?

Well, something inside keeps telling me

that this big trade isn’t everything
that it’s cracked up to be.

Aunt Jess, would you please?

As soon as Johnny told me about his arm,

I just knew that I had to call his mother.

-How serious is it, doctor?
-Well, first of all, it’s just "Doc."

I’m not a doctor, but I know quite a bit
about sports and medicine.

Now, you take Johnny here.

He just threw too hard the other day,

so I had the official team doctor
take some precautionary x-rays.

Would he be a real MD?

Oh, it’s just that you hear
such terrible stories

about overlooked injuries
and, uh, misdiagnoses.

Mrs. Fletcher, what we do here
is state of the art,

from me up to the team surgeon.

And yes, ma’am, he is a real MD.

Oh, yes, I’m sure. Still and all...

Let me show you something.
Come with me, please.

Now, I’ve got some x-rays here
of Johnny’s shoulder taken two days ago.

Now, these are all shots
of the other team players.

Now, you see right here
we’ve got some bone spurs.

This area right here. Can you see that?

Now, that causes inflammation
of the bursa sac, which causes bursitis.

Now, I’ll show you some shots
of Mike Warlop’s shoulder.

You see this here? It’s separated there.

But on this one it’s healed.
See that area there?

Now I’ll show you a picture

of Johnny’s shoulder -
a torn rotator cuff -

when he played with
the Titans’ farm system some time ago.

Oh, my. So Johnny’s arm
follows him from team to team.

Oh, absolutely.
No team ever trades for an athlete

without a complete medical history.

Hey, Doc, gimme a shot of cortisone
or some ice--

Well, if it isn’t aunt Minnie,
our visiting Candy Striper.

You know, lady, you hanging
around this locker room

isn’t exactly good luck
for this ball club.

-Told her that, Skip.
-Oh, my.

There’s a very ugly-looking bruise
you have on your shoulder, Mr. Dial.

That’s where that Warlop sucker
punched me the other night.

Well, he certainly seemed
in remarkably good shape

for a man who had
a dislocated shoulder last season.

Doc was just showing me the x-rays.

Oh, he was, huh?

Now, look, lady.
If you’re so interested in male anatomy,

I can give you a good look at mine...

all of it.

[clears throat]

[chattering] We know the boys
fool around once in a while.

No, Charley wasn’t fooling around.

Then how come Loretta Lee is dead?

My husband may have made
some mistakes in his life,

but even when he was pokin’ around

where he shouldn’t have been,
nobody got hurt.

I’m sorry, Mr. Sidell.

I have no sympathy
for Charley Holcombe. Excuse me.

I guess your husband’s
real happy right now, right?

Now that his competition’s all locked up,
his starter’s job is locked up too, huh?

Kind of looks that way.

Don’t it?

Here you go. Oh, Jessica.

Al, any luck
with that attorney friend of yours?

Yeah, he’s gonna see Charley
later this afternoon.

Good. Now, Caseras has confronted Pete
about being gone the night of the murder,

-but Pete denies it flatly.
-Mm-hmm.

So now the Lieutenant is even
more convinced that Charley is lying.

And if it comes to a jury
deciding between Pete and Charley,

Charley’s gonna be catching
at the state pen.

All this business about the trade
and Mike Warlop’s injury,

it just doesn’t smell right to me.
Doc Evans showed me Mike’s medical file.

I noticed something unusual.

All of the Comets’ x-rays
have the same lab color code,

except for Mike’s
separated shoulder X-Ray.

Now, that seemed odd to me,
so I called the lab.

They have absolutely no record
of having developed any of Mike’s x-rays.

Faked x-rays to make a player look healthy
for trade or sale bait.

I mean, supposing Loretta
found out about that?

Supposing Loretta
was going to tell the Titans.

Supposing Loretta was trying
to blackmail Randolph,

and supposing that’s why she was killed.

-That’s beautiful, Jessica.
[laughs]

Well, we’d better not celebrate
until we have some proof.

We’re gonna need help on that,

-official help.
-Okay.

"Shultz." "Lopez." "Tipton."

-It’s the one of Mike Warlop.
-You think I don’t know that?

Mrs. Fletcher, I don’t know what you saw,
or what you thought you saw.

But do you know how many x-rays
of Mike Warlop we have in here?

Zilch-o.

But they were there.

[Randolph] Who left the damn lights on?

[door slams]

Lieutenant? What...
What the hell’s goin’ on here?

I’m checking out a lead, Sir.

Uh, don’t worry. I have a warrant.

Maybe you can help me.
Where are Mike Warlop’s x-rays?

X-rays?

How should I know?
That’s Doc Evans’s department.

Well, I’m sorry, perhaps I misunderstood,

but I thought everything from trades

to turning lights off was your department.

We think maybe those x-rays were faked,
and Loretta knew it.

You see what I’m driving at, Sir?

-If she even--
-All right, all right.

I don’t need an instant replay.

You’re right, Lieutenant.
I made a tragic mistake.

I never should have let it happen.

I ordered Doc to destroy
those X-Rays this afternoon,

after Harry Dial told me
that Mrs. Fletcher here

was starting to poke around.
The Titans wanted Warlop badly.

They were willing to pay five million,
plus a couple of their top prospects.

But believe me, I didn’t cheat anybody.
I not only showed them the x-rays,

I told them that they were faked.

That month that Warlop missed last season,
there was nothing wrong with his shoulder.

He came to my office

and told me that he was having
a serious problem with alcohol.

So I arranged for a month’s treatment
at a private hospital

under an assumed name,

and I gave the press
and the public the shoulder story.

So when the Titans asked
to see his x-rays,

you were forced
to reveal his drinking problem?

-Right.
-I’ve heard of collusion in sports before,

but this guy takes the cake.

Warlop’s probably got
a couple of good years left.

He’s also got a wife and two kids.

I-I know he can be a royal pain,

but he needed a friend,
and I thought I owed him.

I thought her scoop was about Charley.

Him, we’ve already got behind bars.

Yes, but Lieutenant, you said

that Charley was at the bar
the night that she was killed.

Sure, but nobody remembers exactly when.

He could have shown up
after he killed Loretta.

-Lieutenant?
-Hey. What do you say, Pete?

Your office told us
where we could find you.

Look, uh, about the other night.

What Mrs. Fletcher said is right--
I mean, what Charley told her.

I did leave the hotel
that night at around 11:00.

-And did you see Charley?
-No, ma’am.

But if he saw me,
doesn’t that count for something?

We don’t want Charley to be in jail
if our covering up is responsible.

Covering up? For what?

Where’d you go that night, Pete?

It’s okay, honey. Go ahead and tell him.

I had this guy flown in from out of town.

He was staying in another hotel.

"Guy"? What guy?

A hypnotist.

He was helping me concentrate,
focusing my batting.

-I ended up last year in a slump.
-Yeah, I remember.

Lieutenant, there’s no reason the press

needs to know anything about this.

Mrs. Briggs, I think it’s admirable,

the way you back up your husband.

However, there’s one question
that has to be asked.

While Pete was out of the room,

who can verify your whereabouts?

I didn’t kill her.

I’m sure you didn’t,
any more than Charley Holcombe did.

[tires screeching]

Bellman, take it easy, huh?
This isn’t a race.

I’m sorry, Sir.
That turn came up kind of sudden.

As a matter of fact,

that’s the place where your friend
had his accident, ma’am.

-Mr. Sidell.
-Oh, yes. Yes.

Al told me about that.

Yeah, I’m the guy
that found him in the ditch.

He seemed like a real nice guy.
I hated giving him a ticket.

When a guy drinks and drives,
a ticket isn’t half enough.

He wasn’t drunk, Sir.
At least, I don’t think so.

His license said

he was supposed to be wearing
glasses behind the wheel.

Not only wasn’t he wearing them,
he didn’t even have them with him.

-Oh, dear.
-Something wrong, ma’am?

Yes, something
is terribly wrong, Lieutenant.

Tell me, is your forensic lab open

at this hour of the night,
and if not, could we open it?

Excuse me. Is Johnny still inside?

Sure. Why don’t you go right on in?

Whether they’re dressed or not
never stopped you before, aunt Minnie.

-My name is Jessica.
-Yeah, whatever.

By tomorrow morning, you’ll probably
have my job. Somebody will.

Doc.

-Johnny?
-Oh, hi, aunt Jess.

I’ve got a little surprise for you.

My lucky glove! Oh, my gosh.
Where’d you find it?

Well, you can thank a sharp-eyed
housekeeper at the Tucson plaza.

[Caseras] Mrs. Fletcher?
-In here, Lieutenant.

Johnny, if you hurry,
you can grab the bus before it leaves.

-I’ll help you with your stuff, kid.
-Suppose you stay, Mr. Sidell.

I got a couple questions I wanna ask you.

-Sure, yeah.
-I can wait, Al.

No, no. Go ahead, kid.
I’ll catch up with you later.

-Okay. Thanks again, aunt Jess.
-Good-bye, John.

So what can I do for you, Lieutenant?

You can start by telling me where you were
when Loretta Lee was killed.

I think I was in a ditch with my car.

I had a little accident,
your own man wrote up the ticket.

I told you, right? Jessica?
I mean, I told you about that. Remember?

Yes, Al, I remember.

The woman was killed
between 11:00 and 11:45.

There was plenty of time
for you to have killed her

and still reach that dangerous curve

where the officer found you
and your wrecked car.

What, are you nuts? Geez.

[chuckles] What do you think?
I would, uh...

That I would stage a crash
so I could get an alibi?

Al, you were given a ticket
because you weren’t wearing your glasses.

In fact, you didn’t even
have them with you.

Yeah, well, who’s trying to hide that?

I’ll tell you what. I’ll pay the fine.
I’m guilty as charged. Who do I pay?

Well, that’s not the point,
and I think you know it.

Do you remember, Al, when you and I
attended the first Comets game,

and I asked you to translate
that scoreboard way out on the field?

Now, you did that without any difficulty.

But the second Comets game -
the day after Loretta was killed -

you couldn’t read the scoreboard.

Now, I could be wrong, but my guess is

that you brought your reading glasses
to the second Comet game.

Jessica, these are the only glasses I got.

-It’s the only pair I got.
-They are now.

Our lab analyzed a small piece of glass
Mrs. Fletcher found in the victim’s room,

prescription glass.

Yours, Al.

We checked out local lens makers.

We came up with a one-day optician
on Las Cruces avenue.

He gave us your description, "Mr. Smith."

Shall we ride you over there now
for a positive ID?

I thought I’d picked up
all the pieces of glass.

You gotta believe me, the both of you.

Killing that woman
was the furthest thing from my mind.

I was in my motel room around
10:30 when Loretta phoned.

She asked me
if Freddie Masters was in my room.

She said he wasn’t at the inn,

and she knew that he was my client,

and I said I didn’t know
any Freddie Masters.

And she said she wanted me to corroborate
some evidence that she had that proved

that Charley Holcombe and Freddie Masters
were the same person,

and Freddie Masters
was a known bail jumper.

I said I would come right over

and prove just how wrong she was.

But when I got there,

she said she had a friend
who was no longer an active player

who had played in rookie league
with Charley, and he swore

that Charley and Freddie
were the same person.

She was some piece of work, that woman.

She said that her going public with it,

it wouldn’t hurt my career
or Charley’s career.

She thought it would just help her career.

She thought she might go to the networks,

or even go to the commissioner.

She went to the phone,
and I guess I went nuts. I don’t know.

[no audible dialogue]

And, uh...

I picked up my glasses,

and I tried to make it
look like a robbery.

And, uh, I drove back to the motel.

I was blind as a bat without the glasses.

Funny thing is, I almost made it.

This is the first time
I’ve ever been in trouble.

I never even had a parking ticket.

That was the first time I ever
had any trouble with the police.