Matlock (1986–1995): Season 2, Episode 1 - The Billionaire - full transcript
An American businessman based in London is killed. His son would be charged, tried, and convicted for the crime. His sister believing in her brother's innocence decides to stage a mock trial hoping that something that they missed will be revealed, and she hires Ben to defend him.
A bit early for you
to be up, isn't it?
I've got a hair appointment,
and I'm having my nails done,
then lunch with Suzanne.
Never a moment to
yourself, is there, dear?
No smoking at
the table, Mitchell.
You just getting in?
Four parties.
Don't you find your
lifestyle a trifle expensive?
Do stop picking on him, Albert.
In the unlikely event
I want your advice,
you'll be the first to know.
You think I don't know
how tight the two of you are?
Well, I do.
Father.
What?
Good morning.
Whether you like it or not.
Albert, I've called Hong Kong
five times already this morning.
I told you to
stonewall them, Philip.
They have several other
buyers waiting in the wings.
I've investigated,
they're not bluffing.
If we don't close this in
30 minutes, we'll lose it.
Let them wait.
Come on, Albert.
I've put in six
months on this deal.
I run this company, Philip.
In case you've forgotten.
I could never
forget that, Albert.
Oh, good morning, Philip.
Morning, Michelle. Oh.
His fangs are
showing this morning.
Mr. Gordon, why did you cancel
the installation order I
put in for a PR3 cable?
The one that would
have given you access
to my personal computer?
Mr. Gordon, I have nothing
but the utmost respect
for your privacy. It's
at the top of my list.
But if I'm supposed to
be your in-house counsel,
I have to stay up-to-date,
and you rarely have
time to brief me.
It seems all I do is sit around
and wait for someone to sue you.
Excuse me, Miss Thomas.
Here's your tea.
Also a Mr. Douglas
is in the foyer.
He seems to think
you'll want to see him,
even though he hasn't
got an appointment.
Show him in.
I'm totally satisfied with
your performance, Michelle.
Anything else?
Mr. Douglas.
Morning, Mr. Gordon, sir.
What have you got?
I should have known it.
Good day, Mr. Gordon, sir.
Father.
You're late.
Was checking out the jet.
Philip flies to
Antwerp tomorrow.
Philip? Why is Philip going?
Because in my opinion,
I think Philip
should represent us.
And if I'm gonna be
second in command,
I think you should...
Oh, shut up, Eric.
Don't talk to me like that.
Get out of here.
Go on, get out!
Good evening, sir.
May I take your coat, sir?
Hello, darling.
You look in need of champagne.
Lawrence, bring the
glasses straight away, please.
Never mind the champagne.
Just leave us alone.
I don't know what
you two are up to,
but you're not going to
make a fool out of me, Fiona.
What are you saying?
These were taken last weekend.
Look at them.
I don't understand.
Look.
There.
Hello?
Yes, this is his brother, Eric.
Well, how much did he drink?
All right, I'll be there.
Mr. Gordon?
As long as we're
both here early,
why don't we...?
You have heard how
the murder weapon
was found in Eric Gordon's car
the morning after the murder.
You have also heard
evidence to the effect
that he was seen both
entering and leaving
the scene of the crime
the night of the murder.
Most importantly, you've
heard on the previous day,
Eric Gordon had an ugly
and public quarrel
with his father.
I believe that it
has been proved
beyond all reasonable doubt
the unlawful killer
of Albert Gordon
was his son, Eric Gordon.
No! My brother is
innocent. He was framed.
He is innocent.
Did you take those files
down to the courthouse?
I'm a model of efficiency.
Great.
Mail call.
Mm-hm.
Occupant.
Occupant.
Bill. Bill. Bill.
Bill. Occupant.
No love letters?
No hate mail either.
Oh, and this came
from Trader Ed's.
Mmm.
Mmm. Now.
Oh, wow.
Look at those.
They look just
like your old shoes.
They are just like my old shoes.
Hmph.
How do they feel?
A little tight.
I guess they need breaking in.
Ben Matlock.
Oh, one moment please.
Long distance operator.
Mm.
This is Ben Matlock.
Yes, I'll hold.
Overseas.
London?
Wonder what anybody
from London wants with me.
Yes?
Ben Matlock to see Laura Gordon.
Is Miss Gordon expecting you?
Yes.
Come in, please.
Wait here, sir, please.
Good morning.
Insomniac.
Some know.
Joseph, who is this person?
Mr. Matlock, madam.
To see Miss Gordon.
Must be a new groom for
her horse or some such.
I'll see to it.
Miss Gordon's gone out,
and I've no idea
when she's returning.
Could you come
back another time?
Oh, well, um...
Oh, Miss Gordon's taken you on.
Well, she offered me the job.
I-I didn't take it yet.
Would you like to have
a look at her horse?
Her horse?
In the stable yard.
I have to be honest with you,
I'm afraid of horses.
Well, you're not
only independent
but courageous as well.
Oh, well, not really.
Uh, do you mind if I sit down?
I've got on new shoes,
and they're just killin' me.
Oh, please be careful.
It's George III.
Sybil, has a Mr. Matlock
called for me?
Mr. Matlock.
Yes.
I went to the
airport to pick you up
and I must have
missed you, I'm sorry.
That's okay. We were
getting acquainted.
This is Sybil Gordon,
my stepmother,
and this is Mr. Matlock,
the lawyer I've hired
to retry Eric's case.
Well... What's this
all about, Laura?
I have arranged
a trial, a mock trial,
to draw attention
to Eric's case.
You see, with Mr. Matlock
here to give Eric a better defense,
we can get public support
for a rehearing of this case.
Sounds like a
tasteless publicity stunt.
You don't understand, Sybil.
You see, everything
about this trial
will be exactly like a real one.
All the rules of
an English court
will be strictly enforced.
I have arranged to have
retired Judge Woolsey preside,
and I have even
got that egomaniac
Sir Alec Moore to
repeat his prosecution.
It's out of the question.
Sybil, please.
This is Eric's last chance,
and everyone has
been very cooperative.
Of course, the fact
that you're contesting
our dear father's will
so nobody gets a dime till
this whole thing is settled
might have
something to do with it.
Mr. Matlock, my
brother Mitchell.
We've met, sort of.
Look, Eric is my brother too.
But all the evidence indicates
that he murdered our father.
I know the evidence
indicates that,
but it was circumstantial.
That's right.
Mr. Matlock, will
you take this case?
I don't know.
Uh, I did... I did notice
something fairly
interesting in the, uh,
transcripts of the trial.
Yes?
Yeah, nobody seemed
to look too closely
at other family members
who might have
committed this crime.
I beg your pardon.
Oh, I'm not saying
one of you did,
I just said nobody
seemed to look too closely
at one of you who might have.
I mean, if I were to
do this, I'd have to.
I've got a date.
What do you mean?
Well, um, for instance,
uh, where were you at
the time of the murder?
What?
I just wanted you to
see what it would be like.
Where were you?
I was at home, reading.
Can you corroborate that?
Well...
I suppose not.
You signed a
pre-marital agreement
with your husband, didn't you?
How did you know?
Figures.
He'd be worth a lot
more dead than divorced.
She had a lot to gain.
Yeah.
She wasn't the only one.
A lot of times I
wished he was dead,
but I didn't kill him.
It wasn't in me.
Well, do you have any
idea who might have?
No, I don't.
Ahem. Your father was
several times a millionaire
before the family moved
from America to England, right?
Yeah.
And when he was
murdered, he was a billionaire.
Good, clean motive.
Wonder why just then.
What? What do you
mean, "just then"?
Well, when somebody's murdered,
usually there is a reason
why at a particular time.
And I wonder why
your father was killed
at his particular time.
I don't know.
The prosecution says
your car was seen
in front of his building.
But I didn't do it.
Well, now, you went
somewhere that night.
Now, I get a phone
call from a girl
who didn't tell me
what her name was,
just told me that my
brother Mitchell was drunk,
so I went to pick him
up, bring him home.
Will you take the case?
Will you represent him?
I don't know.
I... I just don't know.
It is interesting
though, isn't it?
I've never done
anything like this before,
and it's as close
as I'll ever come
to arguing a case
in a British court.
But I wouldn't wanna take it on
unless I could show
you some real progress.
Let me look into it for now.
I'll get back to you.
Albert was an old
friend of my father's,
and when he offered
me this job, I took it.
And here I am.
Huh. Well, what
did you do for him?
Not much.
I was supposed to be
his confidential assistant
and private counsel,
although he never confided much.
He sounds like a strange fellow.
He wasn't ordinary.
Here we are.
Well, I guess I look as
uncomfortable as I am.
Oh, well, the scene of the crime
can give you a little
bit of the creeps.
Yeah.
Uh, has this door
been kept locked?
Yeah, the police locked
it after the murder,
and Laura's kept it
locked since the trial.
All this time?
Laura insisted. Why?
You, I suppose.
Huh.
The, uh, transcript said
that Albert put up
a little bit of a fight.
Heh. Yeah, I guess so.
And the coroner's report
said that he was murdered
between 7 and 10 p.m.
Would the front doors
have been locked then?
They get locked at 6:30.
Who has the keys?
I do. Albert did.
His two sons Eric and
Mitchell, and Laura, of course.
Anybody else?
Uh, Philip Dudley,
Albert's executive VP,
and Cybil, Albert's wife.
What's this?
Sealing wax.
Albert was, as you
suggested, a little eccentric.
It amused him to seal documents
with the family crest with this.
Oh.
Body was found over there.
Yes.
Anything else I should see?
Well, actually I don't know
if this is relevant or not,
but it is kind of odd.
Last week we received a
bill from a private detective
for services performed for
Mr. Gordon before he died.
What kind of services?
The bill didn't say.
Think you could set up an
appointment with this fella?
Uh, I'd like to
know about that bill.
Tell me... Tell me
exactly what you did
for Albert Gordon
before he died.
Mr. Gordon hired me to
do some surveillance work
to log the movements
of a certain subject.
Take photographs.
Well, who was the subject?
A girl.
Fiona Maxwell, his mistress.
Mistress?
Didn't it occur to you
that she might have had
something to do with his murder?
Why didn't you come
forward at the trial?
I maintain the
confidentiality of my clients,
alive or dead.
Oh, and, uh, incidentally,
if you should require
any investigative services
during your stay here,
I shall be pleased to
make myself available.
You wouldn't happen to
still have the negatives?
Better than that.
There you go, sir.
Nicely composed,
wouldn't you say?
Did Albert Gordon say
why he wanted these taken?
No, I assumed he thought
she was cheating on him,
that's usually why it's done.
My instructions were
to take photographs
of everyone who went
in and out of her home
over the course of a weekend.
Did he say anything
when he saw them?
Yes.
He said, "Damn, I
should have known."
Then you'd better give
me this woman's address.
I'm sorry, Fiona Maxwell
doesn't live here anymore.
Are you sure?
Absolutely sure.
If you don't believe me,
come in and see for yourself.
She's gone, all right.
Yeah.
Do you know where she moved to?
No. Only wish I did.
Why?
Easiest job I ever
had. That's why.
She gave me a weekly salary
but only asked me to
work on Wednesdays.
You just worked one day a week?
He had the same deal, ask him.
And out of the blue she
told us she was moving
and asked us to come
in today and clear up.
Nearly broke my
heart. Fear flattened me.
Ah.
Well, do you have any idea
what she did on the
days you weren't here?
No.
Now, if you don't mind,
we have work to do.
You're paid to clean
the place, not run a tour.
Get back to work.
What do you want?
Are you...? Are you the owner?
That's right.
You know a woman
named Fiona Maxwell?
Why? Well, we
were looking for her.
She owes him some money. - Yeah.
What?
Damn.
What are you looking at?
Where'd you get those shoes?
If you're interested
in buying this,
make an appointment
with the broker.
Here's her card.
There's the door.
Well, I-I just wanted to know...
Thank you very much. Good day.
What makes him such hot stuff?
That was Robert Harris.
He runs a casino in London
as well as several
other businesses
that are slightly
less than legitimate,
if you get my drift. Oh.
Where to now?
The Gordon estate. I got
something to tell Laura.
What?
I'm taking the case.
Mr. Matlock, thank you.
I wouldn't be thanking me yet.
I'm gonna need a few
things to get started.
Anything. Name it.
Well, limousine and a driver.
Apartment in London.
Briefcase containing £100,000.
It's a lot of money, isn't it?
A lot of money. Anything else?
No, that will do for a start.
I'll have everything for you
within an hour. Excuse me.
Oh.
Hi.
Uh, I'm Ben Matlock.
Are you Philip Dudley?
That's right. Oh,
good to see you.
Oh. Oh.
Oh, I'm sorry. What
happened to your wrist?
Uh, I fractured it.
It was an accident.
Excuse me, I have
to get to the safe.
Oh, go right ahead.
I was just, ah, getting
the feel of the room.
Scene of the crime
and everything.
Ah, did, uh...?
Did you work for, uh,
Albert Gordon a long time?
Seventeen years.
Oh. I guess it was frustrating.
Why frustrating?
Well, I hear he was pretty
hard on his employees,
you included.
Mr. Matlock, I'm no hypocrite.
Albert Gordon was, in most ways,
a thoroughly disagreeable man.
Why should I kill him?
I don't know.
But with, uh...
With Eric found guilty
of his murder, that...
That stands to make
you head of the company.
I can vouch for Philip.
Oh, hi.
Really?
Yes.
Mr. Matlock, just
for the record,
with the salary I earn
and the stock I own,
I am more than
secure financially.
It would make little
difference to me
were I to become
head of the company,
as you put it.
Uh, where were you again
the night of the murder?
He was with me.
In fact, that's the
night he hurt his wrist.
He took a fall in my kitchen
and I ran him to the
emergency room.
Oh.
I didn't know you
were such good friends.
Uh...
Uh, Miss Maxwell.
Uh... Uh, Fiona Maxwell?
The Fiona Maxwell
who is a friend
of Albert Gordon's?
I don't know any Albert Gordon.
He certainly knew you.
So does Robert Harris.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Ah, I'm a lawyer, Miss Maxwell.
Eric Gordon's lawyer.
Not yours, unfortunately.
Maybe you didn't know
they're retrying this case.
Go away. This has
nothing to do with me.
No?
I bet this time you'd make
a very interesting witness.
Uh, Miss Maxwell.
Officer, this gentleman
is annoying me.
What's the problem, sir?
My feet hurt.
What?
Big winner at table eight.
Wants the limit taken off.
Thank you, Pam. I'll take over.
Am I gonna be able to get
some real money here or what?
I don't believe I've
ever had the pleasure.
That's right. You haven't.
What's your name?
Hudson, Tyler Hudson.
We have to talk.
It'll have to
wait. It can't wait.
Why don't you see
what the lady wants?
We can play another time.
Excuse me for a moment.
Pam.
Someone's asking questions.
Some Yank lawyer.
His name is Matlock.
He's some guy they called
in for that kangaroo court.
Forget it.
He said he was
gonna make me testify.
It's not a real trial.
He can't make you do anything.
He could go to the police.
He had copies of those pictures.
They don't prove a thing.
Oh, I want to go
away. I'm afraid.
I know, love.
That's why I give you this.
Because I know how
secure it makes you feel.
It separates you from
all the lower species.
I want to go away.
We will, when the time is right.
Now go on home.
I'll stop by later if I can.
Excuse me, miss.
My employer wishes to
know if you'd accept a lift.
Thank you.
Well, here you are.
Well.
Thanks for the ride.
Miss Maxwell.
How do you know my name?
This is for you.
I don't understand.
Well, with this much money,
you can put a great
deal of distance
between you and
all of your problems.
Who are you?
I am Tyler Hudson,
and this is from
the Gordon family.
They are willing to
pay you to tell the truth.
Mr. Matlock sent you.
I work for the family.
Now, Mr. Matlock has
his means of doing things,
and I have mine.
He prefers to make
people's lives miserable.
I prefer to spread
a little sunshine.
What do you say?
Thanks for the ride.
Speaking for the family,
I would like to
say that we believe
so strongly in my
brother's innocence
that we have staged
this public rehearing
of this case, and it
is our sincere hope
and belief that what
happens in this court
will justify an official
retrial of my brother's case.
Thank you.
I hope you are
enjoying this exhibition,
because I certainly am not.
Enjoying it only slightly
more than Eric is.
Come in.
Um...
Judge Woolsey, I am
Eric Gordon's attorney,
Ben Matlock.
Mr. Matlock,
though I have been
lured out of retirement
to preside at this trial,
I intend to conduct it as
if it were the real thing.
Oh, I understand.
The rules and procedure
of the Crown Court
will be adhered to
as closely as possible.
Accordingly, I will not tolerate
any breeches of decorum
or colorful courtroom antics.
I-I have acquainted myself
with British
courtroom procedure.
Though I might
need a little guidance
and patience from Your Honor.
Your Lord... My Lord.
I'd like to shake hands with
the prosecuting attorney.
You'll find your counterpart,
Sir Alec Moore,
in the robing room.
Sir Alec, why are you
participating in this?
I cannot account for the
motives of the others involved.
I suspect the
quest for publicity
has much to do with it.
As for myself as the
original prosecuting counsel,
I have an interest in
upholding the validity
of the original trial.
I have every confidence
that I shall do so.
And, uh, the American lawyer,
do you have anything
to say about him?
I think, under the
circumstances,
the less said the better.
Thank you, Sir Alec.
Sir Alec?
Uh, I'm Eric Gordon's
attorney, Ben Matlock.
How do you do, Mr. Matlock?
How do you do?
Well... I trust that
we can make this
not only a fair fight,
but also a civil one.
I'll do my best.
Oh, your gown hangs over there.
And here is your wig.
I'll see you in court. Yes.
Thank you.
Silence. Be upstanding in court.
All persons who
have anything to do
before My Lords,
the queen's justices,
draw near and give
your attendance.
God save the queen.
Sir Alec, if you're ready.
My Lord, though I should like
to express my
readiness to proceed,
I submit that my learned friend
is already guilty of
contempt of court.
Mr. Matlock has asked
me to allow him to appear
without our traditional
robe and wig.
I have granted him this
deviation from the norm,
and as this trial is somewhat
unusual to begin with,
I have agreed.
Not that it matters
how Mr. Matlock
is or is not dressed, as
Your Lordship pleases,
it matters not one
jot that Mr. Matlock
is dressed in less
than exemplary fashion.
I am confident that
the truth in this case,
much as before, is so compelling
that nothing will
distract us from it.
The prosecution will
demonstrate that Eric Gordon
murdered his father
and that the facts
allow of no other conclusion.
And where was the
gun found, inspector?
In Eric Gordon's car, the
morning after the murder.
Thank you, inspector.
No questions.
And, uh, what did your
investigation reveal?
We discovered that the bullet
removed from the body
was fired from that gun.
The same gun that was
found in Eric Gordon's car?
Yes.
No questions, My Lord.
You drew up
Mr. Gordon's last will.
Yes.
Uh, did all members
of the family benefit?
Yes.
But who was left in
control of the business?
His son, Eric.
This time I have a
question, My Lord.
Two questions.
One, did Eric Gordon
witness this will?
No.
Two, who did?
Members of our firm and
Mr. Gordon's wife, Sybil.
Thank you.
Had a little bit of a shop
on King Street, okay?
Very good, sir.
You are employed
as a security guard
in the building adjacent to
Albert Gordon's office building.
Yes, sir.
At about 9:00 on the
night of the murder,
did you see anyone enter
Mr. Gordon's building?
Yes, sir.
And who was that?
Mr. Eric Gordon.
You knew him on sight?
I used to see him quite often.
And how did you
know him by name?
I found out.
I rather fancied
that car he drove.
Thank you.
Now, this car you fancied,
it was parked outside
the Gordons'
building that night.
If this is the building,
where was the car parked? Here?
No, sir. There.
Across the street.
This is a one-way
street, isn't it?
Yes, sir.
What I don't understand
is why someone would park a car
way over here to go
in a building over there.
What do you think about that?
If it please My Lord,
my learned friend
is leading the witness
to a purely
speculative conclusion.
My Lord, once answered,
these questions will elucidate
a major point for the defense.
What major point?
That whoever
parked that car here,
that person wanted to
be seen by this witness.
I will uphold the objection,
and I would ask you
to restrain yourself
from further speculation.
I'll withdraw that question
and submit this
one in its place.
Mr. Crossland, isn't
it true that not ten feet
from where this car was
parked is a streetlamp?
I suppose.
And isn't it true when lit,
the streetlamp backlights anyone
crossing the street,
making a clear view
of that person's
face impossible?
I suppose so, but...
Did you get a clear view
of that person's face?
Not his face, no.
When you patrol
the building next door
to Gordon International
office building,
do you follow any kind of path?
I generally tour the rooms
in the same order
each night, yes.
How long does this
tour usually take?
Twenty minutes.
So you saw someone you
assumed to be Eric Gordon
cross the street at around 9:00.
Yes, sir.
And you saw this same person
go back across the street
at 9:20, 20 minutes later?
Yes.
If this person
wanted you to see him
going in and out
of this building,
he couldn't have planned
it any better, could he?
If it please My Lord...
No further questions.
Thank you, Mr. Crossland.
That is the case for the
prosecution, My Lord.
The court will take
a brief adjournment.
The court will be upstanding.
I am very impressed.
Well, poking holes in
their case is one thing.
Plugging up the holes in ours
is something else altogether.
Mr. Matlock, I'm ready.
I'll testify.
I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give
shall be the truth,
the whole truth
and nothing but the truth.
Miss Maxwell, let's...
Let's clarify something upfront.
Did someone pay you to
appear in court this morning?
Yes.
Was that person a representative
of the Gordon family?
Yes.
Did that person tell you
what to say up in
the witness box?
Yes. The truth.
And it took money
to get you to do that.
Yes, I shall need it to
get away after I testify.
Before I ask you from
whom, tell me this.
Did you know Albert Gordon?
Yes.
How would you describe
your relationship?
We were lovers.
God, she's been shot.
She's dead.
Why was she shot?
I don't know why she was shot.
Who do you think would
carry a pistol and fire at her?
Someone obviously did not
want that woman to testify,
and it certainly
was not my brother.
And if anyone had
any doubts before,
then they should know
now that Eric is innocent.
Whoever killed your father
had to have a key
to the front door
of the office building.
It had to be a friend or
a member of the family.
The facts are
Mitchell didn't get
along with your father,
everybody knows that.
What's not generally known
is that he was that close
to bankrupting his trust fund.
With your father dead,
he stands to inherit
a great deal of
money. And Phil...
With your father dead
and you incarcerated,
Philip would take over
Gordon International.
Becoming not only
several million dollars richer,
but also one of
the most powerful
financiers in the world.
If your father was having
an affair with Fiona Maxwell,
then his marriage with Sybil
couldn't have been very strong.
Maybe you didn't know there
was pre-nuptial agreement.
No, I didn't.
In the event of a divorce,
Sybil would have gotten nothing.
But now she'll be one of the
richest women in the world.
But none of them could have
killed that woman in court.
I don't think so.
But there had to be a
connection with somebody.
Somebody killed my father.
He went to a lot of trouble
to make it look like it was me.
I want that person behind bars.
I don't care who it is.
I don't care how
much time it takes
or how much money it costs.
You just find out who did it.
I'll give it a shot.
Thank you.
Well.
What's going on at the casino?
The cops are all over my
newfound and very dear friend
Robert Harris.
Have you spoken to him?
Ben, we are like this:
We've gambled together,
had drinks together.
At any moment, I'm
expecting an invitation to tea.
We need the person
responsible for that girl's death.
Yeah.
That a new suit?
Yeah, a tailor over on
Savile Row made it for me.
Shoes new too?
Yeah, shop on Bond Street.
How much?
Oh, I don't remember exactly.
Over $50 a pair?
Over $50 a shoe.
I'll give you some money
so you can get out of town.
Rob, we've got to talk.
There's nothing to discuss.
Two of the people
in that courtroom
picked out your mug
shot. You've got to lay low.
No, thanks.
I got rid of the woman
to safeguard my cut.
I'm not going
till it's finished.
Mickey, you've
earned your share,
and you'll get it.
What's the matter?
Don't you trust me?
Come on, I'll get you a drink.
Johnny's in the hospital.
In the hospital?
What the hell for?
Gallstones.
He's gonna be
there at least a week.
After all the trouble I went
to setting up Albert Gordon,
we don't have a torch man
because of some
bloody gallstones.
We'll have to find
another torch man.
Starting right now. Come on.
He once said that with
a single drop of water,
you can produce a whole ocean.
To get our killer, we
just need the right drop.
Think I might have a
little something for you.
Michelle Thomas, Tyler Hudson.
Hi.
Nice to meet you.
Robert Harris was in a scheme
that required setting
up Albert Gordon.
My guess is, that's where
Fiona Maxwell came in.
What's the scheme?
All I know is, in order to pull
it off, he needs a torch man.
Torch man?
It's somebody who
can cut open a safe.
You think you can figure out
what this Robert
Harris is up to?
Well, all right.
I'll talk to you later about it.
Can we sit down? My
shoes are killing me.
Well, Fiona's affair with Albert
Gordon was part of a setup.
I wonder if this murder
was part of a setup too.
Do we suppose
something went wrong?
The pictures must have
something to do with it.
The private investigator
that took them
says that Albert got real
upset when he saw them.
Maybe he saw something
in 'em that made him realize
he was being... Being used.
What if he had to be killed?
Who is that fella?
I don't know.
Wait a minute,
isn't that the butler?
Yeah, that's him.
He worked for her on
Wednesday, didn't he?
Yeah, Wednesday.
Oh.
Those pictures were
taken on Saturday.
What's the name of this place?
The Stevenson Davies Academy
for Household Administrators.
I'm gonna look
for the office. Okay.
Ben?
This young man will direct us.
Those butlers
were staring at me.
Household administrators.
Excuse me?
Household administrators.
The term "butler" is
archaic and demeaning.
Okay.
Why were they staring at me?
I suppose they thought
you were a class project.
Mr. Davies is in there.
Thank you.
Demonstrate, please.
Mr. Davies? Yes?
Hello. I'm Michelle Thomas.
Yes. This is Benjamin Matlock.
How do you do? Hello.
Uh, we're looking
for a butler...
- A - household administrator.
I presume you do
have references?
I couldn't place
any of our graduates
unless I first examine
the employers.
Well, we're not
actually doing any hiring.
You see, we're... We're lawyers,
and we're looking for one
particular administrator.
No, I'm afraid I
couldn't possibly.
Uh, it's a rather
complicated story,
but our client,
who must go unnamed, was
paid an act of kindness by this man,
when he returned the
wallet that our client
had accidentally
left in a taxicab.
The gentleman refused any
reward or compensation at that time.
Our client, however,
is now on his deathbed.
It's his final wish to include
this honest man in his will.
We've hired
private investigators
who've been
surreptitiously photographing
household administrators
these past few weeks, in what,
until only recently, has been a
vain attempt to locate this man.
Well, just a few days ago,
one of our investigators
did photograph the right man.
But he was leaving a
house that's unoccupied,
and therefore a
dead end, so to speak.
We were hoping you might
know the gentleman's name.
As I said, it's a rather
complicated story.
No, I don't know him.
What's his name?
That's what we're
trying to find out.
Miss Brookin, do you
know this gentleman?
I've seen him.
Kim.
That's right,
Charles. He's home.
Nice performance. Thank you.
Of course I'm talking about the
one you gave at Fiona Maxwell's.
We just wanna ask
you a few questions.
We represent Eric Gordon.
I promise you Robert
Harris will never find out.
Now, did...? Did Fiona know
you weren't a real butler?
She was a friend.
She needed a
butler, I needed a job.
Why did she only need
you on Wednesdays?
Look, she was your friend.
Help us find the
person who killed her.
Wednesdays was the day
she had Albert Gordon over.
Was he, uh...?
Was he there the
day before he died?
Yes, very briefly.
They had an argument.
About what?
Some photographs.
What were they saying?
Well, he was doing
most of the talking.
I remember him
saying something about,
"I don't know what
you two are doing,
but I'm going to
put a stop to it."
Then he left.
He was quite angry.
But you were seen going
into Fiona's townhouse
not on a Wednesday,
but a Saturday.
What were you doing there?
I needed an
advance on my salary.
I was there for
all of five minutes.
She had company.
Who?
I don't know. I didn't see him.
Him?
Yes. I think it was him.
I remember seeing a cigarette
lighter on the kitchen table.
I'm sure it was a man's.
That, and the way
she was acting,
made me think that she must
have had somebody upstairs.
Did this lighter have any
initials or monogram on it?
It was one of those
promotional jobs.
It was burgundy color with white
letters and a medical insignia.
You know, it was
one of those favors
they give away at charity balls.
It wasn't a ball, it was a
dinner for the Health Fund.
It's over here.
Didn't know you smoked.
I don't.
Uh, on... On... On Saturday,
before your father
was murdered...
It was around 2:30
in the afternoon.
This lighter was seen
in Fiona Maxwell's home.
I didn't even know her.
Where were you that Saturday?
There were hundreds
of those lighters
given away at that dinner.
Ask her, she was there.
Shall we repeat the question?
I was out for a drive.
With who?
No one.
Stop for gas?
I don't remember.
You know, it's a lot
like where you were
the night your
father was murdered.
You don't remember that either.
You have a kind of problem
with your memory, don't you?
Phone numbers.
I'm real good with
girls' phone numbers.
How about Fiona's?
You think I'm a
suspect. I'm flattered.
People don't usually think to
include me in family matters.
I do have a lousy memory.
I certainly wouldn't
forget killing my father.
My lighter.
All right, everybody be cool.
Now we know why you've
been such a faithful customer.
You've been casing us.
Before anybody gets too
imaginative, I want you to know
I have very serious
friends in Chicago.
Why don't you relax, Mr. Hudson?
If you're actually any
good with that torch,
we may be able to
do some business.
What kind of business?
Are you any good?
Let's talk.
Michelle?
I've seen so little of you
since this thing began.
Why don't we
have dinner tonight?
All right.
Mr. Dudley?
Uh, I'd appreciate
if you'd stand by.
You're my first witness today.
Would you please examine this
and tell the court what it is?
It's a telex. And from the code,
it would appear to have
been sent to Mr. Gordon
on May the 8th of this year.
At what time?
Uh, 2007 hours.
So this telex was sent to
Albert Gordon at 8:07 p.m.,
May the 8th, the
night he was murdered.
In fact, it was the last
telex he ever received.
My Lord, either I dozed
off for a few seconds,
which is quite possible, or my
learned friend has yet to even
remotely suggest the
pertinence of these questions.
Ah, the coroner has testified
that Albert Gordon died
between 7 and 10 p.m. the
night he was shot, My Lord.
The police concluded since
someone was seen entering
the building around
9 and leaving at 9:20,
that the murder
occurred shortly after 9.
These questions will
demonstrate that, in fact,
his death could have
been accomplished
a whole hour earlier.
You may continue, Mr. Matlock.
If only to keep Sir Alec awake.
Would you please tell the
court where this telex originated?
Ecsholls and Krumburg.
That's a brokerage
firm in Los Angeles.
And tell us what it
says, the gist of it.
Well, basically, it's a request
for Mr. Gordon's permission
to sell a certain
stock immediately.
And by ignoring this request,
how much did Albert
Gordon stand to lose?
Well, I'm not sure. Um...
I'd say about one
million dollars.
According to my
information, closer to two.
Was it like Albert Gordon
to ignore such a request?
Not really, no.
Under what circumstances would
he ignore a message like this?
Well... What if he
were dead, Mr. Dudley?
What if he had been
murdered around 8:00
instead of 9,
and the murderer used the hour
in-between to frame Eric for it?
With respect, My Lord,
my learned friend is
leading the witness.
Mr. Matlock, you will
have ample opportunity
to draw conclusions
in your closing remarks.
As Your Lordship pleases.
No further questions.
Mr. Dudley, would you describe
Albert Gordon as eccentric?
Not exactly.
I would say he
was an individualist.
He liked to do
things his own way.
Yes. The way
that had, after all,
made him a billionaire.
Yes.
Hadn't he, on occasion,
refused to take advice,
to his ultimate loss?
Yes.
And hadn't he sometimes
ignored telexes,
even when it cost
him money to do so?
On occasion, yes.
In fact, Albert Gordon
could afford to lose $2 million
and not bat an eyelid,
couldn't he, Mr. Dudley?
Yes.
So it isn't too
difficult to believe
that on this occasion he simply
chose to ignore some telex
from his stockbroker?
I don't suppose so.
Thank you, Mr. Dudley.
My Lord, I call Mitchell
Gordon to the stand.
Mr. Gordon, you're an
American, is that correct?
I was born in the United
States, but my family moved here
several years ago.
Mr. Gordon, where
do you currently reside?
At my family's home.
And how do you support yourself?
I live off a trust fund
my mother left for me
when she died.
Isn't it true that your unpaid
bills have mounted up,
and, in fact, you're broke?
Yeah.
And didn't you go to your father
and have a violent argument
with him over money?
Yeah.
And isn't it true that he
refused to give you any more?
Yeah.
And isn't it true
now that he's dead,
you stand to come into more
money than even you can spend?
Well, I'd be delighted to try.
Thank you for being so
honest about it, Mr. Gordon.
Now, where were you the
night your father was murdered?
I spent the evening
at several parties.
Whose parties?
I don't remember.
It is true that several of
your friends recall seeing you
at a party that night,
but they also recall
your leaving around 7:30.
Where did you go?
Well, I suppose I
went to another party.
Send in Mr. McNulty, please.
Mr. McNulty drives a taxi
for Gray's Livery Service.
Do you recognize him?
No.
He's prepared to testify
that he picked you up
in the West End
that night at 7:23 p.m.
and drove you to Wharton Road.
Thank you, Mr. McNulty.
What were you doing
at Wharton Road?
I told you... I mean,
I don't remember.
I suppose I went
to another party.
I think you'd better
try to remember.
You see, it's the
defense's contention
that Albert Gordon was
murdered long before 9:00.
Now, Wharton Road is a short
ten-minute walk from his office.
You could have taken
the taxi to Wharton Road,
walked the ten minutes to
his office, and killed your father.
No, he didn't kill him.
Order!
Order in the court.
Please take your seat.
Mitchell, tell them.
Another outburst, and
I will have you arrested.
I believe my learned friend
asked the witness a question.
The truth is, I know
exactly where I was
on the night of the murder.
I haven't told anybody because
I promised my stepmother,
Sybil, that I wouldn't.
She called me at a
party in the West End,
and as you say, Mr. Matlock,
I hailed a cab, and I
took it to Wharton Road.
When I got there, I met Sybil
and I drove her, in her car,
to our country home where
we spent most of the night.
Lest you get the wrong idea,
Sybil... has a drinking problem,
and my father told her that if
he caught her drinking again,
he'd have her committed.
And that night, she was...
She was very drunk,
and she was terrified
that my father would find out,
so I took her to the country
and helped her sober up.
And then drove her home.
And we found out the next
morning that my father was dead.
Why have you kept this a secret,
even after your father's death?
I gave my word.
No further questions.
Hm.
Mr. Hudson, it's time.
Just a minute, please.
Now.
Thank you.
You go with Nicky.
Wait a minute. You said
the score wasn't gonna
go down until after midnight.
I changed my mind.
Look, I made plans
for the evening.
Do you mind if I cancel them?
Where we goin'?
Okay.
Ben, we're at the Gordon
International offices.
Well, what in the world
are they trying to steal?
Hey, look, sweetheart,
I'm sorry, but I'll see
you tomorrow next door.
I promise.
Tyler, are you all right?
Let's go.
Bye, baby.
We need Michelle Thomas.
Come on, then.
Daughtry, McNeill, upstairs.
Saunders.
Well?
Tyler never would have called
if there wasn't something wrong.
Then where is he?
Inspector.
What is it?
Dirt.
What is the matter with you?
There's something the
matter with the torch.
Give me a minute, will you?
Don't move,
gentlemen. Any of you.
You guys get caught
in traffic, or what?
May I help you?
You're under arrest, Mr. Harris.
Conspiracy to commit
aggravated burglary.
Inspector, may I have
a moment with him?
I'll be right outside.
Um, Mr. Harris, Ben Matlock.
We met the other day.
The sheik who owns the building
next to Gordon International
arrived in town
yesterday with his people
and around 4
million in diamonds.
Mr. Matlock, I run a casino.
What do Arabs and
diamonds have to do with me?
Well, I imagine,
greed, Mr. Harris.
You knew for months that
those diamonds would be stored
in that vault
underneath that building.
So you dug a tunnel, didn't you?
From the basement
of Gordon International,
to the basement
of that building.
And tonight, your
men cut into that office
to steal those diamonds.
That's ridiculous.
The thing is, to get into
Gordon International,
you needed a contact
there, and I believe
that contact is the person
who killed Albert Gordon.
This may be your only
chance to help yourself.
Who was it?
You know what my
problem is, Mr. Matlock?
I never learned how to sing.
Well, it's never too late.
For me, it is.
Inspector.
They've arrested Robert Harris?
Yes.
Did he kill Albert?
I don't know.
But if he didn't, he
probably knows who did.
He's not talking, but
Mr. Matlock thinks
it's just a matter of time.
Are you sure you don't
wanna call this off?
I'm three hours late.
Why do you think they
invented the microwave?
Light the candles.
Red or white?
Red.
You really enjoy
Mr. Matlock, don't you?
Yeah, I am enjoying
working with him.
It's a lot more compelling
than shuffling papers. Hee-hee!
I haven't felt this good
about being a lawyer since...
I'm very happy for you.
Thanks.
I thought you were
lighting the candles.
Oh, yes.
Does he have any suspects?
Not that I know of.
You know, Philip,
this was a bad idea.
I'm really not hungry.
In fact, I don't feel too well.
Well, what's wrong?
A little dizzy. Just
tired, I suppose.
You can sleep here.
Not tonight. I'll
see you tomorrow.
No. Look, it's all right.
I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Ow! Oh, what's the matter?
Burned myself.
What are you doing?
Oh, I was just
messin' with this stuff.
If this sealer was found
over there on the floor
the morning after
Albert Gordon was shot,
then it might be
that he was using it
about the time whoever
killed him came into the office.
It could have been
knocked off the desk
or out of his hand
in the struggle.
Yeah.
This came for you, sir.
Express mail.
Thank you.
Would you read the card? Mm-hm.
It's from someone
named Kathie. Yeah?
"These came from Trader Ed's.
They sent you a
half size too small."
Hm.
Oh...
Now we'll get somewhere.
You got anything new?
Philip Dudley has
a cigarette lighter
identical to the one
that butler says he saw
in Fiona Maxwell's apartment.
And when I was there last night,
it almost seemed like he was...
Oh, who am I kidding?
He was pressing me to see
whether you knew
who the killer is.
I think maybe it's him.
Tell me I'm wrong.
Take a look at these.
See if you can see maybe
what Albert Gordon saw.
Take a good look.
The car?
That's Philip Dudley's car.
Parked in front
of her townhouse.
But there's not
a picture of him.
No.
Just the car.
These pictures were
taken over the weekend.
He came on Friday
and didn't leave till Monday.
But you can't see
the license plate.
You can't even
tell what color it is.
How do you know it's Philip's?
The same way maybe
Albert Gordon did.
By this.
Consider yourself still
under oath, Mr. Dudley.
My Lord.
Now, what is your association
with Robert Harris, Mr. Dudley?
I've never met the man.
Well, you've spent considerable
time in his gambling casino.
According to records
obtained by Scotland Yard,
enough times to have
accumulated a debt
of almost half a million pounds.
My Lord, though my
learned friend obviously revels
in these sojourns
into the obscure,
I, and everyone else
the least bit concerned
with expediency, do not.
I must object.
I intend to show relevance
and much more, My Lord.
If you'll bear with me, please.
You have my permission,
however temporary,
to proceed, Mr. Matlock.
Now, Mr. Dudley, isn't it true
that in order to settle
your gambling debts,
you entered into an
agreement with Robert Harris?
I certainly did not.
And if this Robert Harris fellow
says that I did, then he lied.
Ahem. Did you ever read a
Sherlock Holmes story called
The Red-headed League?
It... It's about these crooks who
arrange for this redheaded man
who owns a store to be away
from his store at certain times,
so they could dig a tunnel from
his shop to the bank next door.
You've lost me, Mr. Matlock.
Well, Albert Gordon
is the redheaded man.
Now, Robert Harris didn't
wanna dig a tunnel to a bank,
he wanted to dig
a tunnel to a vault
containing several millions
of dollars in diamonds
from the Ashed
building, next door to
the Gordon
International building.
The problem was that Albert
Gordon, the redheaded man,
often worked late at night,
so Robert Harris used one
of Mr. Gordon's weaknesses.
He arranged for him
to meet a woman.
A beautiful woman.
Fiona Maxwell.
That's when Mr. Gordon's
weakness came into play.
An affair followed.
They met Wednesday nights.
She probably told
him she was married
and could only be with him on
Wednesday evenings. Anyway,
ahem, every Wednesday
night, instead of working late,
old Albert got in his
Rolls-Royce and drove over
to Fiona Maxwell's
Belgravia townhouse,
while Robert Harris' men,
with a key provided by you,
entered the Gordon building,
went down in the basement,
dug away at their tunnel
till the next morning
when the cleaning crew arrived.
My Lord, he's indulging
in sheer fantasy.
Surely I don't have
to stand here...
My Lord, the tunnel is
still there, as far as it went.
Proceed.
Mr. Dudley, do you drive
a 1986 green Jaguar?
Yes. But...
Now, before you speak,
take a look at these.
I wouldn't want you
to perjure yourself.
These are a set of photographs
taken by a private detective,
outside Fiona
Maxwell's townhouse,
at the direction
of Albert Gordon.
Here's a set for you, My
Lord, and a set for you, sir.
These pictures were
taken the weekend before
Albert Gordon was murdered.
In all but one of them,
Mr. Dudley's car
is parked out front.
Yes, my cousin drives a
similar green car, Mr. Matlock.
I suppose you'll want to
be questioning him too?
Not unless it has a dent
in the left front fender
the way that one
does, and not unless
the estimate for
its repair wound up
on Albert Gordon's
desk the way this one did.
It was a company car,
wasn't it, Mr. Dudley?
And I expect Albert Gordon was
apprised of the insurance claim
after your little fender bender,
and I expect he recognized
your car when he
looked at those pictures.
What do you think?
I don't.
Oh, I do.
I think when he saw your car,
he knew that you and Fiona were,
as my mother used to
say, up to something.
And when she knew
that he knew about you,
she told Robert Harris, whose
scheme to steal those diamonds
was suddenly in
serious jeopardy,
and he amended his
agreement with you.
Killing Albert Gordon
became part of the deal.
I didn't kill anyone.
I was nowhere near the
Gordon Office building.
Oh, that's right.
You have an alibi.
Your wrist.
You were at the hospital having
it x-rayed and a cast put on.
Yes, I was.
That is, assuming, the
murder took place around 9:00.
But what if, as I
have suggested,
it actually took place around 8,
and the person seen going into
the Gordon office building
was really your friend Fiona,
dressed in a trench
coat and a hat
to appear to be Eric Gordon?
None of this is
true. None of it.
Tell me about your wrist.
What'd you do to it?
I stumbled and fell against
the stove when helping a friend
prepare dinner at her house.
I... I fractured it.
And burned yourself? Yes.
If you'd like to see
the hospital records,
I'm sure they'll
make them available.
That won't be necessary.
The emergency room nurse
who supervised your treatment
that night is in
court this morning.
Would you send in
Miss Winthrop, please?
Objection, My Lord.
What does the nurse
who treated Mr. Dudley
have to do with this?
May I continue, My Lord?
Continue.
Is this the nurse?
I-I think so.
According to the medical
records from your orthopedist,
you did fracture your wrist,
but that was three
months ago, wasn't it?
No.
Well, according to
your doctor, it was.
But you didn't have a cast put
on then because you were told
that this sort of injury often
heals quite well on its own.
But the night of the murder,
you insisted a cast be put on.
Not because of the
fracture, but to hide a burn.
My Lord, if you'll indulge me,
I did something
stupid yesterday.
I burned myself.
Burned myself with this.
This is the stamp that
was found on the floor
next to Albert Gordon's body
the morning after the murder.
I think he was doing
what I was doing:
sealing an envelope
with hot wax.
I melted the wax,
heated the stamp,
pressed the stamp
into the hot wax.
That's when I did
something stupid.
Someone entered
the room unexpectedly.
I burned myself.
Perhaps you can
see the mark, Sir Alec.
Now, this is what I think
happened, Mr. Dudley.
About 8:00 that night, you
went up to Albert Gordon's office,
struggled with him
briefly and killed him.
Then you had Fiona Maxwell
lure Eric Gordon out of his house
with a phone call about
his brother being drunk,
while you went over
to your friend's house,
took your convenient
fall, went to the hospital.
While Fiona impersonated
Eric at the scene of the crime.
Complete lunacy.
Miss Winthrop, will
you step forward?
I've asked her to
bring her saw with her.
I think it's time for
that cast to come off.
My Lord, surely you
don't expect me to comply.
Mr. Dudley, please step
down, kindly remove your coat.
Let the record show Mr. Dudley
has a partially-healed burn
on his right wrist, exactly
the same size and shape
of the Gordon family crest.
I believe in the case of the
Crown against Eric Gordon,
there exists more than
a reasonable doubt.
That is the case
for the defense.
Of course we're thrilled
they cast a mistrial,
and I feel very confident that
when we have an official retrial
of this case, my brother's
name will be cleared.
Excuse me.
Mr. Matlock.
May I?
You bet.
Thank you.
Well, it's one of those deals
that worked out
well for everybody.
Eric gets a new trial and
will take over the company.
Laura's not gonna
contest the will.
Sybil gets some money.
Mitchell gets some money.
I had a good job. Had some fun.
Didn't have to wear
a wig. Ha-ha-ha!
It worked out
well for everybody.
When I say
everybody, not Albert.
I'm sorry about Philip.
So am I.
Listen, my daughter's
off on her own.
She joined a law
firm in Philadelphia.
So I've got an empty office.
A proposition?
Well, I could only offer
a junior partnership.
I tell you what,
you think about it.
Let me know if
you're interested.
Hey, Tyler.
If we catch the Concorde,
we can get home and
go to the Peachtree Diner
in time for pork
chops and grits.
You're buying.
You thought it over?
Yeah.
to be up, isn't it?
I've got a hair appointment,
and I'm having my nails done,
then lunch with Suzanne.
Never a moment to
yourself, is there, dear?
No smoking at
the table, Mitchell.
You just getting in?
Four parties.
Don't you find your
lifestyle a trifle expensive?
Do stop picking on him, Albert.
In the unlikely event
I want your advice,
you'll be the first to know.
You think I don't know
how tight the two of you are?
Well, I do.
Father.
What?
Good morning.
Whether you like it or not.
Albert, I've called Hong Kong
five times already this morning.
I told you to
stonewall them, Philip.
They have several other
buyers waiting in the wings.
I've investigated,
they're not bluffing.
If we don't close this in
30 minutes, we'll lose it.
Let them wait.
Come on, Albert.
I've put in six
months on this deal.
I run this company, Philip.
In case you've forgotten.
I could never
forget that, Albert.
Oh, good morning, Philip.
Morning, Michelle. Oh.
His fangs are
showing this morning.
Mr. Gordon, why did you cancel
the installation order I
put in for a PR3 cable?
The one that would
have given you access
to my personal computer?
Mr. Gordon, I have nothing
but the utmost respect
for your privacy. It's
at the top of my list.
But if I'm supposed to
be your in-house counsel,
I have to stay up-to-date,
and you rarely have
time to brief me.
It seems all I do is sit around
and wait for someone to sue you.
Excuse me, Miss Thomas.
Here's your tea.
Also a Mr. Douglas
is in the foyer.
He seems to think
you'll want to see him,
even though he hasn't
got an appointment.
Show him in.
I'm totally satisfied with
your performance, Michelle.
Anything else?
Mr. Douglas.
Morning, Mr. Gordon, sir.
What have you got?
I should have known it.
Good day, Mr. Gordon, sir.
Father.
You're late.
Was checking out the jet.
Philip flies to
Antwerp tomorrow.
Philip? Why is Philip going?
Because in my opinion,
I think Philip
should represent us.
And if I'm gonna be
second in command,
I think you should...
Oh, shut up, Eric.
Don't talk to me like that.
Get out of here.
Go on, get out!
Good evening, sir.
May I take your coat, sir?
Hello, darling.
You look in need of champagne.
Lawrence, bring the
glasses straight away, please.
Never mind the champagne.
Just leave us alone.
I don't know what
you two are up to,
but you're not going to
make a fool out of me, Fiona.
What are you saying?
These were taken last weekend.
Look at them.
I don't understand.
Look.
There.
Hello?
Yes, this is his brother, Eric.
Well, how much did he drink?
All right, I'll be there.
Mr. Gordon?
As long as we're
both here early,
why don't we...?
You have heard how
the murder weapon
was found in Eric Gordon's car
the morning after the murder.
You have also heard
evidence to the effect
that he was seen both
entering and leaving
the scene of the crime
the night of the murder.
Most importantly, you've
heard on the previous day,
Eric Gordon had an ugly
and public quarrel
with his father.
I believe that it
has been proved
beyond all reasonable doubt
the unlawful killer
of Albert Gordon
was his son, Eric Gordon.
No! My brother is
innocent. He was framed.
He is innocent.
Did you take those files
down to the courthouse?
I'm a model of efficiency.
Great.
Mail call.
Mm-hm.
Occupant.
Occupant.
Bill. Bill. Bill.
Bill. Occupant.
No love letters?
No hate mail either.
Oh, and this came
from Trader Ed's.
Mmm.
Mmm. Now.
Oh, wow.
Look at those.
They look just
like your old shoes.
They are just like my old shoes.
Hmph.
How do they feel?
A little tight.
I guess they need breaking in.
Ben Matlock.
Oh, one moment please.
Long distance operator.
Mm.
This is Ben Matlock.
Yes, I'll hold.
Overseas.
London?
Wonder what anybody
from London wants with me.
Yes?
Ben Matlock to see Laura Gordon.
Is Miss Gordon expecting you?
Yes.
Come in, please.
Wait here, sir, please.
Good morning.
Insomniac.
Some know.
Joseph, who is this person?
Mr. Matlock, madam.
To see Miss Gordon.
Must be a new groom for
her horse or some such.
I'll see to it.
Miss Gordon's gone out,
and I've no idea
when she's returning.
Could you come
back another time?
Oh, well, um...
Oh, Miss Gordon's taken you on.
Well, she offered me the job.
I-I didn't take it yet.
Would you like to have
a look at her horse?
Her horse?
In the stable yard.
I have to be honest with you,
I'm afraid of horses.
Well, you're not
only independent
but courageous as well.
Oh, well, not really.
Uh, do you mind if I sit down?
I've got on new shoes,
and they're just killin' me.
Oh, please be careful.
It's George III.
Sybil, has a Mr. Matlock
called for me?
Mr. Matlock.
Yes.
I went to the
airport to pick you up
and I must have
missed you, I'm sorry.
That's okay. We were
getting acquainted.
This is Sybil Gordon,
my stepmother,
and this is Mr. Matlock,
the lawyer I've hired
to retry Eric's case.
Well... What's this
all about, Laura?
I have arranged
a trial, a mock trial,
to draw attention
to Eric's case.
You see, with Mr. Matlock
here to give Eric a better defense,
we can get public support
for a rehearing of this case.
Sounds like a
tasteless publicity stunt.
You don't understand, Sybil.
You see, everything
about this trial
will be exactly like a real one.
All the rules of
an English court
will be strictly enforced.
I have arranged to have
retired Judge Woolsey preside,
and I have even
got that egomaniac
Sir Alec Moore to
repeat his prosecution.
It's out of the question.
Sybil, please.
This is Eric's last chance,
and everyone has
been very cooperative.
Of course, the fact
that you're contesting
our dear father's will
so nobody gets a dime till
this whole thing is settled
might have
something to do with it.
Mr. Matlock, my
brother Mitchell.
We've met, sort of.
Look, Eric is my brother too.
But all the evidence indicates
that he murdered our father.
I know the evidence
indicates that,
but it was circumstantial.
That's right.
Mr. Matlock, will
you take this case?
I don't know.
Uh, I did... I did notice
something fairly
interesting in the, uh,
transcripts of the trial.
Yes?
Yeah, nobody seemed
to look too closely
at other family members
who might have
committed this crime.
I beg your pardon.
Oh, I'm not saying
one of you did,
I just said nobody
seemed to look too closely
at one of you who might have.
I mean, if I were to
do this, I'd have to.
I've got a date.
What do you mean?
Well, um, for instance,
uh, where were you at
the time of the murder?
What?
I just wanted you to
see what it would be like.
Where were you?
I was at home, reading.
Can you corroborate that?
Well...
I suppose not.
You signed a
pre-marital agreement
with your husband, didn't you?
How did you know?
Figures.
He'd be worth a lot
more dead than divorced.
She had a lot to gain.
Yeah.
She wasn't the only one.
A lot of times I
wished he was dead,
but I didn't kill him.
It wasn't in me.
Well, do you have any
idea who might have?
No, I don't.
Ahem. Your father was
several times a millionaire
before the family moved
from America to England, right?
Yeah.
And when he was
murdered, he was a billionaire.
Good, clean motive.
Wonder why just then.
What? What do you
mean, "just then"?
Well, when somebody's murdered,
usually there is a reason
why at a particular time.
And I wonder why
your father was killed
at his particular time.
I don't know.
The prosecution says
your car was seen
in front of his building.
But I didn't do it.
Well, now, you went
somewhere that night.
Now, I get a phone
call from a girl
who didn't tell me
what her name was,
just told me that my
brother Mitchell was drunk,
so I went to pick him
up, bring him home.
Will you take the case?
Will you represent him?
I don't know.
I... I just don't know.
It is interesting
though, isn't it?
I've never done
anything like this before,
and it's as close
as I'll ever come
to arguing a case
in a British court.
But I wouldn't wanna take it on
unless I could show
you some real progress.
Let me look into it for now.
I'll get back to you.
Albert was an old
friend of my father's,
and when he offered
me this job, I took it.
And here I am.
Huh. Well, what
did you do for him?
Not much.
I was supposed to be
his confidential assistant
and private counsel,
although he never confided much.
He sounds like a strange fellow.
He wasn't ordinary.
Here we are.
Well, I guess I look as
uncomfortable as I am.
Oh, well, the scene of the crime
can give you a little
bit of the creeps.
Yeah.
Uh, has this door
been kept locked?
Yeah, the police locked
it after the murder,
and Laura's kept it
locked since the trial.
All this time?
Laura insisted. Why?
You, I suppose.
Huh.
The, uh, transcript said
that Albert put up
a little bit of a fight.
Heh. Yeah, I guess so.
And the coroner's report
said that he was murdered
between 7 and 10 p.m.
Would the front doors
have been locked then?
They get locked at 6:30.
Who has the keys?
I do. Albert did.
His two sons Eric and
Mitchell, and Laura, of course.
Anybody else?
Uh, Philip Dudley,
Albert's executive VP,
and Cybil, Albert's wife.
What's this?
Sealing wax.
Albert was, as you
suggested, a little eccentric.
It amused him to seal documents
with the family crest with this.
Oh.
Body was found over there.
Yes.
Anything else I should see?
Well, actually I don't know
if this is relevant or not,
but it is kind of odd.
Last week we received a
bill from a private detective
for services performed for
Mr. Gordon before he died.
What kind of services?
The bill didn't say.
Think you could set up an
appointment with this fella?
Uh, I'd like to
know about that bill.
Tell me... Tell me
exactly what you did
for Albert Gordon
before he died.
Mr. Gordon hired me to
do some surveillance work
to log the movements
of a certain subject.
Take photographs.
Well, who was the subject?
A girl.
Fiona Maxwell, his mistress.
Mistress?
Didn't it occur to you
that she might have had
something to do with his murder?
Why didn't you come
forward at the trial?
I maintain the
confidentiality of my clients,
alive or dead.
Oh, and, uh, incidentally,
if you should require
any investigative services
during your stay here,
I shall be pleased to
make myself available.
You wouldn't happen to
still have the negatives?
Better than that.
There you go, sir.
Nicely composed,
wouldn't you say?
Did Albert Gordon say
why he wanted these taken?
No, I assumed he thought
she was cheating on him,
that's usually why it's done.
My instructions were
to take photographs
of everyone who went
in and out of her home
over the course of a weekend.
Did he say anything
when he saw them?
Yes.
He said, "Damn, I
should have known."
Then you'd better give
me this woman's address.
I'm sorry, Fiona Maxwell
doesn't live here anymore.
Are you sure?
Absolutely sure.
If you don't believe me,
come in and see for yourself.
She's gone, all right.
Yeah.
Do you know where she moved to?
No. Only wish I did.
Why?
Easiest job I ever
had. That's why.
She gave me a weekly salary
but only asked me to
work on Wednesdays.
You just worked one day a week?
He had the same deal, ask him.
And out of the blue she
told us she was moving
and asked us to come
in today and clear up.
Nearly broke my
heart. Fear flattened me.
Ah.
Well, do you have any idea
what she did on the
days you weren't here?
No.
Now, if you don't mind,
we have work to do.
You're paid to clean
the place, not run a tour.
Get back to work.
What do you want?
Are you...? Are you the owner?
That's right.
You know a woman
named Fiona Maxwell?
Why? Well, we
were looking for her.
She owes him some money. - Yeah.
What?
Damn.
What are you looking at?
Where'd you get those shoes?
If you're interested
in buying this,
make an appointment
with the broker.
Here's her card.
There's the door.
Well, I-I just wanted to know...
Thank you very much. Good day.
What makes him such hot stuff?
That was Robert Harris.
He runs a casino in London
as well as several
other businesses
that are slightly
less than legitimate,
if you get my drift. Oh.
Where to now?
The Gordon estate. I got
something to tell Laura.
What?
I'm taking the case.
Mr. Matlock, thank you.
I wouldn't be thanking me yet.
I'm gonna need a few
things to get started.
Anything. Name it.
Well, limousine and a driver.
Apartment in London.
Briefcase containing £100,000.
It's a lot of money, isn't it?
A lot of money. Anything else?
No, that will do for a start.
I'll have everything for you
within an hour. Excuse me.
Oh.
Hi.
Uh, I'm Ben Matlock.
Are you Philip Dudley?
That's right. Oh,
good to see you.
Oh. Oh.
Oh, I'm sorry. What
happened to your wrist?
Uh, I fractured it.
It was an accident.
Excuse me, I have
to get to the safe.
Oh, go right ahead.
I was just, ah, getting
the feel of the room.
Scene of the crime
and everything.
Ah, did, uh...?
Did you work for, uh,
Albert Gordon a long time?
Seventeen years.
Oh. I guess it was frustrating.
Why frustrating?
Well, I hear he was pretty
hard on his employees,
you included.
Mr. Matlock, I'm no hypocrite.
Albert Gordon was, in most ways,
a thoroughly disagreeable man.
Why should I kill him?
I don't know.
But with, uh...
With Eric found guilty
of his murder, that...
That stands to make
you head of the company.
I can vouch for Philip.
Oh, hi.
Really?
Yes.
Mr. Matlock, just
for the record,
with the salary I earn
and the stock I own,
I am more than
secure financially.
It would make little
difference to me
were I to become
head of the company,
as you put it.
Uh, where were you again
the night of the murder?
He was with me.
In fact, that's the
night he hurt his wrist.
He took a fall in my kitchen
and I ran him to the
emergency room.
Oh.
I didn't know you
were such good friends.
Uh...
Uh, Miss Maxwell.
Uh... Uh, Fiona Maxwell?
The Fiona Maxwell
who is a friend
of Albert Gordon's?
I don't know any Albert Gordon.
He certainly knew you.
So does Robert Harris.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Ah, I'm a lawyer, Miss Maxwell.
Eric Gordon's lawyer.
Not yours, unfortunately.
Maybe you didn't know
they're retrying this case.
Go away. This has
nothing to do with me.
No?
I bet this time you'd make
a very interesting witness.
Uh, Miss Maxwell.
Officer, this gentleman
is annoying me.
What's the problem, sir?
My feet hurt.
What?
Big winner at table eight.
Wants the limit taken off.
Thank you, Pam. I'll take over.
Am I gonna be able to get
some real money here or what?
I don't believe I've
ever had the pleasure.
That's right. You haven't.
What's your name?
Hudson, Tyler Hudson.
We have to talk.
It'll have to
wait. It can't wait.
Why don't you see
what the lady wants?
We can play another time.
Excuse me for a moment.
Pam.
Someone's asking questions.
Some Yank lawyer.
His name is Matlock.
He's some guy they called
in for that kangaroo court.
Forget it.
He said he was
gonna make me testify.
It's not a real trial.
He can't make you do anything.
He could go to the police.
He had copies of those pictures.
They don't prove a thing.
Oh, I want to go
away. I'm afraid.
I know, love.
That's why I give you this.
Because I know how
secure it makes you feel.
It separates you from
all the lower species.
I want to go away.
We will, when the time is right.
Now go on home.
I'll stop by later if I can.
Excuse me, miss.
My employer wishes to
know if you'd accept a lift.
Thank you.
Well, here you are.
Well.
Thanks for the ride.
Miss Maxwell.
How do you know my name?
This is for you.
I don't understand.
Well, with this much money,
you can put a great
deal of distance
between you and
all of your problems.
Who are you?
I am Tyler Hudson,
and this is from
the Gordon family.
They are willing to
pay you to tell the truth.
Mr. Matlock sent you.
I work for the family.
Now, Mr. Matlock has
his means of doing things,
and I have mine.
He prefers to make
people's lives miserable.
I prefer to spread
a little sunshine.
What do you say?
Thanks for the ride.
Speaking for the family,
I would like to
say that we believe
so strongly in my
brother's innocence
that we have staged
this public rehearing
of this case, and it
is our sincere hope
and belief that what
happens in this court
will justify an official
retrial of my brother's case.
Thank you.
I hope you are
enjoying this exhibition,
because I certainly am not.
Enjoying it only slightly
more than Eric is.
Come in.
Um...
Judge Woolsey, I am
Eric Gordon's attorney,
Ben Matlock.
Mr. Matlock,
though I have been
lured out of retirement
to preside at this trial,
I intend to conduct it as
if it were the real thing.
Oh, I understand.
The rules and procedure
of the Crown Court
will be adhered to
as closely as possible.
Accordingly, I will not tolerate
any breeches of decorum
or colorful courtroom antics.
I-I have acquainted myself
with British
courtroom procedure.
Though I might
need a little guidance
and patience from Your Honor.
Your Lord... My Lord.
I'd like to shake hands with
the prosecuting attorney.
You'll find your counterpart,
Sir Alec Moore,
in the robing room.
Sir Alec, why are you
participating in this?
I cannot account for the
motives of the others involved.
I suspect the
quest for publicity
has much to do with it.
As for myself as the
original prosecuting counsel,
I have an interest in
upholding the validity
of the original trial.
I have every confidence
that I shall do so.
And, uh, the American lawyer,
do you have anything
to say about him?
I think, under the
circumstances,
the less said the better.
Thank you, Sir Alec.
Sir Alec?
Uh, I'm Eric Gordon's
attorney, Ben Matlock.
How do you do, Mr. Matlock?
How do you do?
Well... I trust that
we can make this
not only a fair fight,
but also a civil one.
I'll do my best.
Oh, your gown hangs over there.
And here is your wig.
I'll see you in court. Yes.
Thank you.
Silence. Be upstanding in court.
All persons who
have anything to do
before My Lords,
the queen's justices,
draw near and give
your attendance.
God save the queen.
Sir Alec, if you're ready.
My Lord, though I should like
to express my
readiness to proceed,
I submit that my learned friend
is already guilty of
contempt of court.
Mr. Matlock has asked
me to allow him to appear
without our traditional
robe and wig.
I have granted him this
deviation from the norm,
and as this trial is somewhat
unusual to begin with,
I have agreed.
Not that it matters
how Mr. Matlock
is or is not dressed, as
Your Lordship pleases,
it matters not one
jot that Mr. Matlock
is dressed in less
than exemplary fashion.
I am confident that
the truth in this case,
much as before, is so compelling
that nothing will
distract us from it.
The prosecution will
demonstrate that Eric Gordon
murdered his father
and that the facts
allow of no other conclusion.
And where was the
gun found, inspector?
In Eric Gordon's car, the
morning after the murder.
Thank you, inspector.
No questions.
And, uh, what did your
investigation reveal?
We discovered that the bullet
removed from the body
was fired from that gun.
The same gun that was
found in Eric Gordon's car?
Yes.
No questions, My Lord.
You drew up
Mr. Gordon's last will.
Yes.
Uh, did all members
of the family benefit?
Yes.
But who was left in
control of the business?
His son, Eric.
This time I have a
question, My Lord.
Two questions.
One, did Eric Gordon
witness this will?
No.
Two, who did?
Members of our firm and
Mr. Gordon's wife, Sybil.
Thank you.
Had a little bit of a shop
on King Street, okay?
Very good, sir.
You are employed
as a security guard
in the building adjacent to
Albert Gordon's office building.
Yes, sir.
At about 9:00 on the
night of the murder,
did you see anyone enter
Mr. Gordon's building?
Yes, sir.
And who was that?
Mr. Eric Gordon.
You knew him on sight?
I used to see him quite often.
And how did you
know him by name?
I found out.
I rather fancied
that car he drove.
Thank you.
Now, this car you fancied,
it was parked outside
the Gordons'
building that night.
If this is the building,
where was the car parked? Here?
No, sir. There.
Across the street.
This is a one-way
street, isn't it?
Yes, sir.
What I don't understand
is why someone would park a car
way over here to go
in a building over there.
What do you think about that?
If it please My Lord,
my learned friend
is leading the witness
to a purely
speculative conclusion.
My Lord, once answered,
these questions will elucidate
a major point for the defense.
What major point?
That whoever
parked that car here,
that person wanted to
be seen by this witness.
I will uphold the objection,
and I would ask you
to restrain yourself
from further speculation.
I'll withdraw that question
and submit this
one in its place.
Mr. Crossland, isn't
it true that not ten feet
from where this car was
parked is a streetlamp?
I suppose.
And isn't it true when lit,
the streetlamp backlights anyone
crossing the street,
making a clear view
of that person's
face impossible?
I suppose so, but...
Did you get a clear view
of that person's face?
Not his face, no.
When you patrol
the building next door
to Gordon International
office building,
do you follow any kind of path?
I generally tour the rooms
in the same order
each night, yes.
How long does this
tour usually take?
Twenty minutes.
So you saw someone you
assumed to be Eric Gordon
cross the street at around 9:00.
Yes, sir.
And you saw this same person
go back across the street
at 9:20, 20 minutes later?
Yes.
If this person
wanted you to see him
going in and out
of this building,
he couldn't have planned
it any better, could he?
If it please My Lord...
No further questions.
Thank you, Mr. Crossland.
That is the case for the
prosecution, My Lord.
The court will take
a brief adjournment.
The court will be upstanding.
I am very impressed.
Well, poking holes in
their case is one thing.
Plugging up the holes in ours
is something else altogether.
Mr. Matlock, I'm ready.
I'll testify.
I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give
shall be the truth,
the whole truth
and nothing but the truth.
Miss Maxwell, let's...
Let's clarify something upfront.
Did someone pay you to
appear in court this morning?
Yes.
Was that person a representative
of the Gordon family?
Yes.
Did that person tell you
what to say up in
the witness box?
Yes. The truth.
And it took money
to get you to do that.
Yes, I shall need it to
get away after I testify.
Before I ask you from
whom, tell me this.
Did you know Albert Gordon?
Yes.
How would you describe
your relationship?
We were lovers.
God, she's been shot.
She's dead.
Why was she shot?
I don't know why she was shot.
Who do you think would
carry a pistol and fire at her?
Someone obviously did not
want that woman to testify,
and it certainly
was not my brother.
And if anyone had
any doubts before,
then they should know
now that Eric is innocent.
Whoever killed your father
had to have a key
to the front door
of the office building.
It had to be a friend or
a member of the family.
The facts are
Mitchell didn't get
along with your father,
everybody knows that.
What's not generally known
is that he was that close
to bankrupting his trust fund.
With your father dead,
he stands to inherit
a great deal of
money. And Phil...
With your father dead
and you incarcerated,
Philip would take over
Gordon International.
Becoming not only
several million dollars richer,
but also one of
the most powerful
financiers in the world.
If your father was having
an affair with Fiona Maxwell,
then his marriage with Sybil
couldn't have been very strong.
Maybe you didn't know there
was pre-nuptial agreement.
No, I didn't.
In the event of a divorce,
Sybil would have gotten nothing.
But now she'll be one of the
richest women in the world.
But none of them could have
killed that woman in court.
I don't think so.
But there had to be a
connection with somebody.
Somebody killed my father.
He went to a lot of trouble
to make it look like it was me.
I want that person behind bars.
I don't care who it is.
I don't care how
much time it takes
or how much money it costs.
You just find out who did it.
I'll give it a shot.
Thank you.
Well.
What's going on at the casino?
The cops are all over my
newfound and very dear friend
Robert Harris.
Have you spoken to him?
Ben, we are like this:
We've gambled together,
had drinks together.
At any moment, I'm
expecting an invitation to tea.
We need the person
responsible for that girl's death.
Yeah.
That a new suit?
Yeah, a tailor over on
Savile Row made it for me.
Shoes new too?
Yeah, shop on Bond Street.
How much?
Oh, I don't remember exactly.
Over $50 a pair?
Over $50 a shoe.
I'll give you some money
so you can get out of town.
Rob, we've got to talk.
There's nothing to discuss.
Two of the people
in that courtroom
picked out your mug
shot. You've got to lay low.
No, thanks.
I got rid of the woman
to safeguard my cut.
I'm not going
till it's finished.
Mickey, you've
earned your share,
and you'll get it.
What's the matter?
Don't you trust me?
Come on, I'll get you a drink.
Johnny's in the hospital.
In the hospital?
What the hell for?
Gallstones.
He's gonna be
there at least a week.
After all the trouble I went
to setting up Albert Gordon,
we don't have a torch man
because of some
bloody gallstones.
We'll have to find
another torch man.
Starting right now. Come on.
He once said that with
a single drop of water,
you can produce a whole ocean.
To get our killer, we
just need the right drop.
Think I might have a
little something for you.
Michelle Thomas, Tyler Hudson.
Hi.
Nice to meet you.
Robert Harris was in a scheme
that required setting
up Albert Gordon.
My guess is, that's where
Fiona Maxwell came in.
What's the scheme?
All I know is, in order to pull
it off, he needs a torch man.
Torch man?
It's somebody who
can cut open a safe.
You think you can figure out
what this Robert
Harris is up to?
Well, all right.
I'll talk to you later about it.
Can we sit down? My
shoes are killing me.
Well, Fiona's affair with Albert
Gordon was part of a setup.
I wonder if this murder
was part of a setup too.
Do we suppose
something went wrong?
The pictures must have
something to do with it.
The private investigator
that took them
says that Albert got real
upset when he saw them.
Maybe he saw something
in 'em that made him realize
he was being... Being used.
What if he had to be killed?
Who is that fella?
I don't know.
Wait a minute,
isn't that the butler?
Yeah, that's him.
He worked for her on
Wednesday, didn't he?
Yeah, Wednesday.
Oh.
Those pictures were
taken on Saturday.
What's the name of this place?
The Stevenson Davies Academy
for Household Administrators.
I'm gonna look
for the office. Okay.
Ben?
This young man will direct us.
Those butlers
were staring at me.
Household administrators.
Excuse me?
Household administrators.
The term "butler" is
archaic and demeaning.
Okay.
Why were they staring at me?
I suppose they thought
you were a class project.
Mr. Davies is in there.
Thank you.
Demonstrate, please.
Mr. Davies? Yes?
Hello. I'm Michelle Thomas.
Yes. This is Benjamin Matlock.
How do you do? Hello.
Uh, we're looking
for a butler...
- A - household administrator.
I presume you do
have references?
I couldn't place
any of our graduates
unless I first examine
the employers.
Well, we're not
actually doing any hiring.
You see, we're... We're lawyers,
and we're looking for one
particular administrator.
No, I'm afraid I
couldn't possibly.
Uh, it's a rather
complicated story,
but our client,
who must go unnamed, was
paid an act of kindness by this man,
when he returned the
wallet that our client
had accidentally
left in a taxicab.
The gentleman refused any
reward or compensation at that time.
Our client, however,
is now on his deathbed.
It's his final wish to include
this honest man in his will.
We've hired
private investigators
who've been
surreptitiously photographing
household administrators
these past few weeks, in what,
until only recently, has been a
vain attempt to locate this man.
Well, just a few days ago,
one of our investigators
did photograph the right man.
But he was leaving a
house that's unoccupied,
and therefore a
dead end, so to speak.
We were hoping you might
know the gentleman's name.
As I said, it's a rather
complicated story.
No, I don't know him.
What's his name?
That's what we're
trying to find out.
Miss Brookin, do you
know this gentleman?
I've seen him.
Kim.
That's right,
Charles. He's home.
Nice performance. Thank you.
Of course I'm talking about the
one you gave at Fiona Maxwell's.
We just wanna ask
you a few questions.
We represent Eric Gordon.
I promise you Robert
Harris will never find out.
Now, did...? Did Fiona know
you weren't a real butler?
She was a friend.
She needed a
butler, I needed a job.
Why did she only need
you on Wednesdays?
Look, she was your friend.
Help us find the
person who killed her.
Wednesdays was the day
she had Albert Gordon over.
Was he, uh...?
Was he there the
day before he died?
Yes, very briefly.
They had an argument.
About what?
Some photographs.
What were they saying?
Well, he was doing
most of the talking.
I remember him
saying something about,
"I don't know what
you two are doing,
but I'm going to
put a stop to it."
Then he left.
He was quite angry.
But you were seen going
into Fiona's townhouse
not on a Wednesday,
but a Saturday.
What were you doing there?
I needed an
advance on my salary.
I was there for
all of five minutes.
She had company.
Who?
I don't know. I didn't see him.
Him?
Yes. I think it was him.
I remember seeing a cigarette
lighter on the kitchen table.
I'm sure it was a man's.
That, and the way
she was acting,
made me think that she must
have had somebody upstairs.
Did this lighter have any
initials or monogram on it?
It was one of those
promotional jobs.
It was burgundy color with white
letters and a medical insignia.
You know, it was
one of those favors
they give away at charity balls.
It wasn't a ball, it was a
dinner for the Health Fund.
It's over here.
Didn't know you smoked.
I don't.
Uh, on... On... On Saturday,
before your father
was murdered...
It was around 2:30
in the afternoon.
This lighter was seen
in Fiona Maxwell's home.
I didn't even know her.
Where were you that Saturday?
There were hundreds
of those lighters
given away at that dinner.
Ask her, she was there.
Shall we repeat the question?
I was out for a drive.
With who?
No one.
Stop for gas?
I don't remember.
You know, it's a lot
like where you were
the night your
father was murdered.
You don't remember that either.
You have a kind of problem
with your memory, don't you?
Phone numbers.
I'm real good with
girls' phone numbers.
How about Fiona's?
You think I'm a
suspect. I'm flattered.
People don't usually think to
include me in family matters.
I do have a lousy memory.
I certainly wouldn't
forget killing my father.
My lighter.
All right, everybody be cool.
Now we know why you've
been such a faithful customer.
You've been casing us.
Before anybody gets too
imaginative, I want you to know
I have very serious
friends in Chicago.
Why don't you relax, Mr. Hudson?
If you're actually any
good with that torch,
we may be able to
do some business.
What kind of business?
Are you any good?
Let's talk.
Michelle?
I've seen so little of you
since this thing began.
Why don't we
have dinner tonight?
All right.
Mr. Dudley?
Uh, I'd appreciate
if you'd stand by.
You're my first witness today.
Would you please examine this
and tell the court what it is?
It's a telex. And from the code,
it would appear to have
been sent to Mr. Gordon
on May the 8th of this year.
At what time?
Uh, 2007 hours.
So this telex was sent to
Albert Gordon at 8:07 p.m.,
May the 8th, the
night he was murdered.
In fact, it was the last
telex he ever received.
My Lord, either I dozed
off for a few seconds,
which is quite possible, or my
learned friend has yet to even
remotely suggest the
pertinence of these questions.
Ah, the coroner has testified
that Albert Gordon died
between 7 and 10 p.m. the
night he was shot, My Lord.
The police concluded since
someone was seen entering
the building around
9 and leaving at 9:20,
that the murder
occurred shortly after 9.
These questions will
demonstrate that, in fact,
his death could have
been accomplished
a whole hour earlier.
You may continue, Mr. Matlock.
If only to keep Sir Alec awake.
Would you please tell the
court where this telex originated?
Ecsholls and Krumburg.
That's a brokerage
firm in Los Angeles.
And tell us what it
says, the gist of it.
Well, basically, it's a request
for Mr. Gordon's permission
to sell a certain
stock immediately.
And by ignoring this request,
how much did Albert
Gordon stand to lose?
Well, I'm not sure. Um...
I'd say about one
million dollars.
According to my
information, closer to two.
Was it like Albert Gordon
to ignore such a request?
Not really, no.
Under what circumstances would
he ignore a message like this?
Well... What if he
were dead, Mr. Dudley?
What if he had been
murdered around 8:00
instead of 9,
and the murderer used the hour
in-between to frame Eric for it?
With respect, My Lord,
my learned friend is
leading the witness.
Mr. Matlock, you will
have ample opportunity
to draw conclusions
in your closing remarks.
As Your Lordship pleases.
No further questions.
Mr. Dudley, would you describe
Albert Gordon as eccentric?
Not exactly.
I would say he
was an individualist.
He liked to do
things his own way.
Yes. The way
that had, after all,
made him a billionaire.
Yes.
Hadn't he, on occasion,
refused to take advice,
to his ultimate loss?
Yes.
And hadn't he sometimes
ignored telexes,
even when it cost
him money to do so?
On occasion, yes.
In fact, Albert Gordon
could afford to lose $2 million
and not bat an eyelid,
couldn't he, Mr. Dudley?
Yes.
So it isn't too
difficult to believe
that on this occasion he simply
chose to ignore some telex
from his stockbroker?
I don't suppose so.
Thank you, Mr. Dudley.
My Lord, I call Mitchell
Gordon to the stand.
Mr. Gordon, you're an
American, is that correct?
I was born in the United
States, but my family moved here
several years ago.
Mr. Gordon, where
do you currently reside?
At my family's home.
And how do you support yourself?
I live off a trust fund
my mother left for me
when she died.
Isn't it true that your unpaid
bills have mounted up,
and, in fact, you're broke?
Yeah.
And didn't you go to your father
and have a violent argument
with him over money?
Yeah.
And isn't it true that he
refused to give you any more?
Yeah.
And isn't it true
now that he's dead,
you stand to come into more
money than even you can spend?
Well, I'd be delighted to try.
Thank you for being so
honest about it, Mr. Gordon.
Now, where were you the
night your father was murdered?
I spent the evening
at several parties.
Whose parties?
I don't remember.
It is true that several of
your friends recall seeing you
at a party that night,
but they also recall
your leaving around 7:30.
Where did you go?
Well, I suppose I
went to another party.
Send in Mr. McNulty, please.
Mr. McNulty drives a taxi
for Gray's Livery Service.
Do you recognize him?
No.
He's prepared to testify
that he picked you up
in the West End
that night at 7:23 p.m.
and drove you to Wharton Road.
Thank you, Mr. McNulty.
What were you doing
at Wharton Road?
I told you... I mean,
I don't remember.
I suppose I went
to another party.
I think you'd better
try to remember.
You see, it's the
defense's contention
that Albert Gordon was
murdered long before 9:00.
Now, Wharton Road is a short
ten-minute walk from his office.
You could have taken
the taxi to Wharton Road,
walked the ten minutes to
his office, and killed your father.
No, he didn't kill him.
Order!
Order in the court.
Please take your seat.
Mitchell, tell them.
Another outburst, and
I will have you arrested.
I believe my learned friend
asked the witness a question.
The truth is, I know
exactly where I was
on the night of the murder.
I haven't told anybody because
I promised my stepmother,
Sybil, that I wouldn't.
She called me at a
party in the West End,
and as you say, Mr. Matlock,
I hailed a cab, and I
took it to Wharton Road.
When I got there, I met Sybil
and I drove her, in her car,
to our country home where
we spent most of the night.
Lest you get the wrong idea,
Sybil... has a drinking problem,
and my father told her that if
he caught her drinking again,
he'd have her committed.
And that night, she was...
She was very drunk,
and she was terrified
that my father would find out,
so I took her to the country
and helped her sober up.
And then drove her home.
And we found out the next
morning that my father was dead.
Why have you kept this a secret,
even after your father's death?
I gave my word.
No further questions.
Hm.
Mr. Hudson, it's time.
Just a minute, please.
Now.
Thank you.
You go with Nicky.
Wait a minute. You said
the score wasn't gonna
go down until after midnight.
I changed my mind.
Look, I made plans
for the evening.
Do you mind if I cancel them?
Where we goin'?
Okay.
Ben, we're at the Gordon
International offices.
Well, what in the world
are they trying to steal?
Hey, look, sweetheart,
I'm sorry, but I'll see
you tomorrow next door.
I promise.
Tyler, are you all right?
Let's go.
Bye, baby.
We need Michelle Thomas.
Come on, then.
Daughtry, McNeill, upstairs.
Saunders.
Well?
Tyler never would have called
if there wasn't something wrong.
Then where is he?
Inspector.
What is it?
Dirt.
What is the matter with you?
There's something the
matter with the torch.
Give me a minute, will you?
Don't move,
gentlemen. Any of you.
You guys get caught
in traffic, or what?
May I help you?
You're under arrest, Mr. Harris.
Conspiracy to commit
aggravated burglary.
Inspector, may I have
a moment with him?
I'll be right outside.
Um, Mr. Harris, Ben Matlock.
We met the other day.
The sheik who owns the building
next to Gordon International
arrived in town
yesterday with his people
and around 4
million in diamonds.
Mr. Matlock, I run a casino.
What do Arabs and
diamonds have to do with me?
Well, I imagine,
greed, Mr. Harris.
You knew for months that
those diamonds would be stored
in that vault
underneath that building.
So you dug a tunnel, didn't you?
From the basement
of Gordon International,
to the basement
of that building.
And tonight, your
men cut into that office
to steal those diamonds.
That's ridiculous.
The thing is, to get into
Gordon International,
you needed a contact
there, and I believe
that contact is the person
who killed Albert Gordon.
This may be your only
chance to help yourself.
Who was it?
You know what my
problem is, Mr. Matlock?
I never learned how to sing.
Well, it's never too late.
For me, it is.
Inspector.
They've arrested Robert Harris?
Yes.
Did he kill Albert?
I don't know.
But if he didn't, he
probably knows who did.
He's not talking, but
Mr. Matlock thinks
it's just a matter of time.
Are you sure you don't
wanna call this off?
I'm three hours late.
Why do you think they
invented the microwave?
Light the candles.
Red or white?
Red.
You really enjoy
Mr. Matlock, don't you?
Yeah, I am enjoying
working with him.
It's a lot more compelling
than shuffling papers. Hee-hee!
I haven't felt this good
about being a lawyer since...
I'm very happy for you.
Thanks.
I thought you were
lighting the candles.
Oh, yes.
Does he have any suspects?
Not that I know of.
You know, Philip,
this was a bad idea.
I'm really not hungry.
In fact, I don't feel too well.
Well, what's wrong?
A little dizzy. Just
tired, I suppose.
You can sleep here.
Not tonight. I'll
see you tomorrow.
No. Look, it's all right.
I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Ow! Oh, what's the matter?
Burned myself.
What are you doing?
Oh, I was just
messin' with this stuff.
If this sealer was found
over there on the floor
the morning after
Albert Gordon was shot,
then it might be
that he was using it
about the time whoever
killed him came into the office.
It could have been
knocked off the desk
or out of his hand
in the struggle.
Yeah.
This came for you, sir.
Express mail.
Thank you.
Would you read the card? Mm-hm.
It's from someone
named Kathie. Yeah?
"These came from Trader Ed's.
They sent you a
half size too small."
Hm.
Oh...
Now we'll get somewhere.
You got anything new?
Philip Dudley has
a cigarette lighter
identical to the one
that butler says he saw
in Fiona Maxwell's apartment.
And when I was there last night,
it almost seemed like he was...
Oh, who am I kidding?
He was pressing me to see
whether you knew
who the killer is.
I think maybe it's him.
Tell me I'm wrong.
Take a look at these.
See if you can see maybe
what Albert Gordon saw.
Take a good look.
The car?
That's Philip Dudley's car.
Parked in front
of her townhouse.
But there's not
a picture of him.
No.
Just the car.
These pictures were
taken over the weekend.
He came on Friday
and didn't leave till Monday.
But you can't see
the license plate.
You can't even
tell what color it is.
How do you know it's Philip's?
The same way maybe
Albert Gordon did.
By this.
Consider yourself still
under oath, Mr. Dudley.
My Lord.
Now, what is your association
with Robert Harris, Mr. Dudley?
I've never met the man.
Well, you've spent considerable
time in his gambling casino.
According to records
obtained by Scotland Yard,
enough times to have
accumulated a debt
of almost half a million pounds.
My Lord, though my
learned friend obviously revels
in these sojourns
into the obscure,
I, and everyone else
the least bit concerned
with expediency, do not.
I must object.
I intend to show relevance
and much more, My Lord.
If you'll bear with me, please.
You have my permission,
however temporary,
to proceed, Mr. Matlock.
Now, Mr. Dudley, isn't it true
that in order to settle
your gambling debts,
you entered into an
agreement with Robert Harris?
I certainly did not.
And if this Robert Harris fellow
says that I did, then he lied.
Ahem. Did you ever read a
Sherlock Holmes story called
The Red-headed League?
It... It's about these crooks who
arrange for this redheaded man
who owns a store to be away
from his store at certain times,
so they could dig a tunnel from
his shop to the bank next door.
You've lost me, Mr. Matlock.
Well, Albert Gordon
is the redheaded man.
Now, Robert Harris didn't
wanna dig a tunnel to a bank,
he wanted to dig
a tunnel to a vault
containing several millions
of dollars in diamonds
from the Ashed
building, next door to
the Gordon
International building.
The problem was that Albert
Gordon, the redheaded man,
often worked late at night,
so Robert Harris used one
of Mr. Gordon's weaknesses.
He arranged for him
to meet a woman.
A beautiful woman.
Fiona Maxwell.
That's when Mr. Gordon's
weakness came into play.
An affair followed.
They met Wednesday nights.
She probably told
him she was married
and could only be with him on
Wednesday evenings. Anyway,
ahem, every Wednesday
night, instead of working late,
old Albert got in his
Rolls-Royce and drove over
to Fiona Maxwell's
Belgravia townhouse,
while Robert Harris' men,
with a key provided by you,
entered the Gordon building,
went down in the basement,
dug away at their tunnel
till the next morning
when the cleaning crew arrived.
My Lord, he's indulging
in sheer fantasy.
Surely I don't have
to stand here...
My Lord, the tunnel is
still there, as far as it went.
Proceed.
Mr. Dudley, do you drive
a 1986 green Jaguar?
Yes. But...
Now, before you speak,
take a look at these.
I wouldn't want you
to perjure yourself.
These are a set of photographs
taken by a private detective,
outside Fiona
Maxwell's townhouse,
at the direction
of Albert Gordon.
Here's a set for you, My
Lord, and a set for you, sir.
These pictures were
taken the weekend before
Albert Gordon was murdered.
In all but one of them,
Mr. Dudley's car
is parked out front.
Yes, my cousin drives a
similar green car, Mr. Matlock.
I suppose you'll want to
be questioning him too?
Not unless it has a dent
in the left front fender
the way that one
does, and not unless
the estimate for
its repair wound up
on Albert Gordon's
desk the way this one did.
It was a company car,
wasn't it, Mr. Dudley?
And I expect Albert Gordon was
apprised of the insurance claim
after your little fender bender,
and I expect he recognized
your car when he
looked at those pictures.
What do you think?
I don't.
Oh, I do.
I think when he saw your car,
he knew that you and Fiona were,
as my mother used to
say, up to something.
And when she knew
that he knew about you,
she told Robert Harris, whose
scheme to steal those diamonds
was suddenly in
serious jeopardy,
and he amended his
agreement with you.
Killing Albert Gordon
became part of the deal.
I didn't kill anyone.
I was nowhere near the
Gordon Office building.
Oh, that's right.
You have an alibi.
Your wrist.
You were at the hospital having
it x-rayed and a cast put on.
Yes, I was.
That is, assuming, the
murder took place around 9:00.
But what if, as I
have suggested,
it actually took place around 8,
and the person seen going into
the Gordon office building
was really your friend Fiona,
dressed in a trench
coat and a hat
to appear to be Eric Gordon?
None of this is
true. None of it.
Tell me about your wrist.
What'd you do to it?
I stumbled and fell against
the stove when helping a friend
prepare dinner at her house.
I... I fractured it.
And burned yourself? Yes.
If you'd like to see
the hospital records,
I'm sure they'll
make them available.
That won't be necessary.
The emergency room nurse
who supervised your treatment
that night is in
court this morning.
Would you send in
Miss Winthrop, please?
Objection, My Lord.
What does the nurse
who treated Mr. Dudley
have to do with this?
May I continue, My Lord?
Continue.
Is this the nurse?
I-I think so.
According to the medical
records from your orthopedist,
you did fracture your wrist,
but that was three
months ago, wasn't it?
No.
Well, according to
your doctor, it was.
But you didn't have a cast put
on then because you were told
that this sort of injury often
heals quite well on its own.
But the night of the murder,
you insisted a cast be put on.
Not because of the
fracture, but to hide a burn.
My Lord, if you'll indulge me,
I did something
stupid yesterday.
I burned myself.
Burned myself with this.
This is the stamp that
was found on the floor
next to Albert Gordon's body
the morning after the murder.
I think he was doing
what I was doing:
sealing an envelope
with hot wax.
I melted the wax,
heated the stamp,
pressed the stamp
into the hot wax.
That's when I did
something stupid.
Someone entered
the room unexpectedly.
I burned myself.
Perhaps you can
see the mark, Sir Alec.
Now, this is what I think
happened, Mr. Dudley.
About 8:00 that night, you
went up to Albert Gordon's office,
struggled with him
briefly and killed him.
Then you had Fiona Maxwell
lure Eric Gordon out of his house
with a phone call about
his brother being drunk,
while you went over
to your friend's house,
took your convenient
fall, went to the hospital.
While Fiona impersonated
Eric at the scene of the crime.
Complete lunacy.
Miss Winthrop, will
you step forward?
I've asked her to
bring her saw with her.
I think it's time for
that cast to come off.
My Lord, surely you
don't expect me to comply.
Mr. Dudley, please step
down, kindly remove your coat.
Let the record show Mr. Dudley
has a partially-healed burn
on his right wrist, exactly
the same size and shape
of the Gordon family crest.
I believe in the case of the
Crown against Eric Gordon,
there exists more than
a reasonable doubt.
That is the case
for the defense.
Of course we're thrilled
they cast a mistrial,
and I feel very confident that
when we have an official retrial
of this case, my brother's
name will be cleared.
Excuse me.
Mr. Matlock.
May I?
You bet.
Thank you.
Well, it's one of those deals
that worked out
well for everybody.
Eric gets a new trial and
will take over the company.
Laura's not gonna
contest the will.
Sybil gets some money.
Mitchell gets some money.
I had a good job. Had some fun.
Didn't have to wear
a wig. Ha-ha-ha!
It worked out
well for everybody.
When I say
everybody, not Albert.
I'm sorry about Philip.
So am I.
Listen, my daughter's
off on her own.
She joined a law
firm in Philadelphia.
So I've got an empty office.
A proposition?
Well, I could only offer
a junior partnership.
I tell you what,
you think about it.
Let me know if
you're interested.
Hey, Tyler.
If we catch the Concorde,
we can get home and
go to the Peachtree Diner
in time for pork
chops and grits.
You're buying.
You thought it over?
Yeah.