Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 1, Episode 2 - Birds of a Feather - full transcript

Jessica visits her niece Victoria ''Vicky'' Brandon in San Francisco, who tells her that her fiancé, New York would be-actor Howard Griffin, isn't working in life insurance as he pretended. The ladies go to Mr. Drake's night-club which Vicky found out he's somehow connected to, see he's performing there as drag-queen, and worse: during star Michael Dupont's act Howard runs out in panic after finding Drake's shot corps. Vicky believes in Howard's innocence unconditionally, even accepts his weird job, so Jessica is determined to help initially unappreciative SFPD Detective Lt. Floyd Novack find the real killer. The club proves a viper's nest full of motives both in showbiz, including promising performer Freddy York, who would miss out on a dream contract because held him to a lousy contract and later gets wounded in an intentional 'accident' on stage, and the Drake family's (adulterous) love life. It all hangs on the tiny details only Jessica notices and makes sense of..

I'm not particularly proud of what I
had to do to earn that money, but I did it.

- And I want what's coming to me.
- Don't ever touch me like that again.

- You don't seem exactly broken up
over Drake's death.
- Tell you what. I'll split a bouquet with you.

If I love him, how can
I justify spying on him?

For your own peace of mind.

No reasonable person
could assume for one moment

that I had anything
to do with AI's death.

No. Other than the fact
that you despised the man.

Catch that killer!

[Birds Squawking]

Mr. Drake.



What do you say, kid? Out
for some early morning air?

I've gotta talk
to ya. So... talk.

I need my money. We
already had that conversation.

You'll get it when you're
finished. I'm finished.

Come on now, kid. We got a deal. You're
in it till I say otherwise. Now, look.

You listen to me. I'm
not particularly proud...

of what I had to do to
earn that money, but I did it.

- And I want what's comin' to me.
- You're a nice kid, Howard,

but don't you ever
touch me like that again.

Tonight, you be there, or you
don't see a dime, you got that?

- Fritz.
- [Barks Fiercely]

Come on, Fritz.

You know, Al, too much of that
stuff can give you a heart attack.

You worried about me,
Mike, or just fantasizing?



I thought we had a deal. We do.

Just be patient. Yeah, well, I've
been patient for about six months.

I think you're jerkin' my
string, Al, that's what I think.

- Have you raised the money?
- Now, that's my problem, isn't it?

Don't push me, Mike. Things
are goin' real good right now.

- But I can live without you.
- Yeah? Well, speaking of living,

anybody can live
without anybody.

- [Barks]
- Fritz.

- [Growls Fiercely]
- [Whimpers]

Actually, it's going to be a
very simple wedding, intimate.

Intimate. I see.

Well, we can still make it very festive...
flowers on each side of the altar...

[Sneezes] God bless you.

Oh, thank you. I'm
allergic to flowers.

Just how intimate a
wedding will this be?

Uh, well, I just flew in from
New York a few days ago,

and, uh, my aunt just
flew in from Maine...

and maybe a few
of Howard's friends.

Speaking of the groom, I do
have choir practice in five minutes.

- I'm sorry I'm late.
- Howard.

I got hung up at the
office, and traffic's brutal.

- Sorry, Reverend.
- If we could do a quick run-through...

How's your aunt? She get
in okay? Great. I checked

her into the hotel
first thing this morning.

If you'd both stand here,
side by side, facing me.

I made dinner reservations at
this terrific place on the wharf.

- Oh, damn.
- Howard, not again.

I'm sorry, honey. I can't
make it. I wish I could.

Howard, this is ridiculous.

I do have the little tots
waiting in the rehearsal hall.

It's a very important client.
They can't all be that important.

Every... [Sneezes]

Every night? God bless you.

Honey, if there was any way I could make
it, you know I would. Five nights in a row?

We'll do it tomorrow.
Will we, Howard?

Maybe you'll be tied
up again. God knows I

wouldn't want to drag
you away from a client.

Vicky!

Are you sure these are Maine
lobsters? Certainly, madam.

They're flown in fresh every
day. Maybe they've got jet lag.

Would you care to select one?
Well, we'll take the first two that move.

Very good, madam.
Follow me, please.

Would you ladies care for a
cocktail? What would you like, Vicky?

I think I'd like a glass of white
wine. I think I'll have the same.

[Clears Throat] Thank you.

[Sighs] Anyway, I
met him in New York...

Gosh, it must have
been about a year ago.

He was acting in an off-Broadway
show. Oh, I thought he was in insurance.

Oh, he is... now. But
back there he was an actor.

Well, actually, he
was mostly a cabdriver.

You see, in college, he played
the lead in Charley's Aunt,

and I guess it just
sort of got in his blood.

And what kind of transfusion
led him into life insurance?

He wanted to start over
again... You know, a new career.

See, he didn't want to get married until
he could be absolutely sure of his future.

That's why he came out
here to San Francisco.

That's sensible enough
if that's what he wants.

Oh, believe me, Aunt Jess. I would marry
Howard no matter what business he was in.

I really love him,
and Howard loves me.

He really does. I mean, I
know that for a certainty.

Damn.

You know, Vicky, it's not
abnormal to have last-minute doubts.

You've always read me
like a book, haven't you?

If I'm prying, you just stop me.

Thank you.

Thanks.

You know how they say there's nothing quite
so romantic as San Francisco after dark?

I wouldn't know. I've been here for
five days, and for five straight nights,

Howard has been working.

Well, of course,
selling life insurance is...

I dropped by his office
yesterday to surprise him.

They told me that he hadn't
worked there for a month.

Oh.

Yesterday, I met him for
breakfast, and he had these

circles under his eyes,
and he smelled like perfume.

Hmm. Of course, some
men do wear cologne.

This afternoon at the chapel,
he lent me his handkerchief.

Look. That's not your shade.

No. And these matches,
from some nightclub?

They are all over his apartment. I wanna
go to this place, you know, to find out.

But if I love him, how
can I justify spying on him?

For your own peace of
mind, I think you have to.

[Applause] ♪ [Female
Impersonator Singing]

Good evening,
Mr. Carter. Right this way.

Another full house, Mr. Drake? We're
ahead of last week by nine percent.

A man'd be a fool to sell a gold
mine like this, right, Barbara?

Well, you'll break a
lot of hearts if you don't.

As long as I don't
break yours, baby.

I'll bring the printout
around before I leave.

[Applause] ♪ [Singing Continues]

Al, we gotta talk.

Go away, Patterson. I'm busy.

I hope you don't think you have
Freddy tied up for another four years.

You made the deal for him.
I know who made the deal.

Look, I'm not saying he won't
play the club. Al, Freddy loves you.

Sure. The whole world loves me.

He just wants some freedom
to explore a few more things.

I got him that talk
show, and now he's hot.

He's hot because this club
made him hot. Now, you tell

Freddy he works here, or
he doesn't work anywhere.

Got that? That's what
we have courts for.

Ladies? A table for two, please.

- Your name, please?
- We don't have a reservation,
but we don't mind waiting.

We could seat you at
11:00... next Thursday.

That's a bit longer than
we had in mind. Really?

- Felix.
- [Sighs]

Now I'm getting stubborn.

Excuse me. Mr. Drake?

Excuse me.

I really hate doing this sort of thing,
but, uh, my aunt and I just dropped by,

and we would
really like a table.

That's my aunt right there.

You probably recognize her. No.

J.B. Fletcher. Oh, really?

Really. Who the
hell is J.B. Fletcher?

Uh, a very famous
mystery writer.

She's had six best sellers. This
morning she was on Bay City Breakfast,

and tomorrow she appears
with Dana Burns and then

in the afternoon, she's
gonna meet the mayor.

Ms. Fletcher, so delighted
you could join us this evening.

Raymond, a table for Ms.
Fletcher and her party, please.

How very nice. There's
just the two of us.

Table for two. Of course.

Enjoy the show,
ladies. Thank you.

[Singer] Merci. Merci.
[Continues, Indistinct]

It's not a very good
view of the stage.

But a great view of the patrons.

How could Howard afford to
bring her to a place like this?

[Applause] And now,
the one and only,

our very own, in his
third year... Freddy York!

- [Drumroll]
- Freddy.

Hey. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful.

My name is Freddy York. I'm here
to give you some yuks. [Rim Shot]

[Scattered Laughter] I wanted
to look good for the show

tonight, so I went to a
barbershop right before the show.

I figured I'd get a shave, a shoe
shine and a manicure... the works, right?

Guy's shavin' me. I
look down at this girl

that's giving me a
manicure. She's really cute.

I say, "Listen. I'm Freddy
York. I'm the comedy star at Les

Champignons. Why don't you
come catch the show tonight?"

She said, "I'd like to, but I'm
married." I said, "Come anyway.

Tell your husband
you're going out with the

girls." She said, "You
tell him. He's shaving you."

I met a girl at the bar last night.
She told me she was into astrology.

- She wanted to meet a Leo,
so I introduced her to my accountant.
- [Rim Shot]

- What a great crowd.
- Yes. Tomorrow at 9:00. Good night.

Mrs. Drake. What a pleasant surprise.
I didn't know you were here tonight.

What am I supposed to
do? Make an appointment?

I'll seat you immediately.
Was Mr. Drake expecting you?

Oh, I doubt it.

[Freddy Continues, Indistinct]
Show Mrs. Drake to her table.

[Freddy] "You're never gonna
sell a car with 120,000 miles on it.

Why don't you just
lower that odometer, you

know, go in and lower
it? You'll sell your car."

I saw him last night. I said,
"Hey, Eddie. You sell your car?"

He said, "No, I'm not gonna sell my
car. I only got 12,000 miles on it." Felix.

[Audience Laughs] Find Mr. Drake.
Tell him his wife is on the premises.

[Freddy] ...has two rooms reserved
at the hotel. He gets there a little late.

The clerk says, "Sir, Mr. Jones,
I'm sorry. I only got one room left."

Felix, what are you doing backstage? I'm
supposed to tell Mr. Drake his wife's here.

His wife? Yeah.

Well, never mind. I'll
tell him. You go back

out front. [Freddy
Continues, Indistinct]

They go upstairs.
They take the twin beds.

Middle of the night,
the secretary gets up.

She goes, "Psst.
Mr. Smith, are you sleeping?"

He said, "What's the
matter?" She said, "I'm

chilly." He says,
"Well, if you're chilly,

would you like to pretend
that you’re Mrs. Smith tonight?"

She says, "Why, Mr. Smith,
I'd love to." He said,

"Good. Get up and shut
the window yourself."

And you’re a great crowd. You're
really beautiful. Thank you. Thank you.

You're great. I love
you. Stick around for

the next show. I'll see
you. You're beautiful!

Victoria, have
you noticed there's

something a little
strange about this place?

- What do you mean?
- I don't know. I can't quite
put my finger on it.

Thank you. Thank you. I'm glad
you're all having such a great time.

And now, the moment
we've all been waiting for,

the star of our show,
that lovely chanteuse,

Michelle DuPont!

♪ [Lounge Piano]

♪ There's a somebody
I'm longin' to see ♪

- ♪ I hope that he turns out... ♪
- [Woman Screams]

Catch that killer! Stop
him! He's a murderer!

Stop him! [Audience Murmuring]

- Victoria!
- Howard?

Howard?

I... I can explain everything.

[Sirens Wailing]

[Murmuring Continues] Mike.

What the hell's going
on? Drake's been shot.

Shot? Who shot him?
The new guy... Howard.

May I please see Mr. Griffin? I'm
sorry, lady. Nobody can go in there.

[Victoria] I have to see him. [Officer]
Can't let you go in. I have my orders.

Please? Look, we're
gonna be married.

- Here. You can take my purse,
and you can search me.
- Vicky?

Well,

I guess it'll be all
right. Just for a minute.

Thank you.

[Sighs]

Oh, Howard.

Oh, Vicky, I'm sorry, honey. I
wanted to tell you, I really did.

It was just a job. I
know! Isn't it wonderful?

What? That it was just a job.

I thought that...
Well, never mind.

Vicky, I didn't... I didn't
shoot him. I swear I didn't.

Of course you didn't.

Suspect in there?
[Officer] Yes, sir.

Which one? The tall one.

Bill, take her
downtown and book her.

Him. Whatever.

[Murmuring] [Detective]All right.
Coming through. Stand aside.

Stand aside. Coming
through. Step aside, please.

[Sighs] Uh, I'm Lieutenant Novak.
Now, did anybody touch anything in here?

- [All] No.
- Well, which one of you
saw the killing?

I did. Well, I mean,

I walked past the open
door, and I saw her...

Him... standing over
Mr. Drake with the gun.

[Groans] This gun?

Yes.

I must have screamed, and
he dropped it and ran out.

Hmm. Smooth grip, Charlie.
You might even get some prints.

- Yeah. How 'bout that?
- [Bird Squawking]

Lieutenant Novak, did you notice the
small white feather on Mr. Drake's jacket?

- Who are you?
- Oh, I'm Jessica Fletcher.

- Did you see the murder?
- Well, actually, no. I was sitting
out front watching the show.

Then, Ms. Fletcher, would you
mind doing me a great big favor?

- Oh, I'll do absolutely anything
I can to help.
- Would you please get out of here?

Please, ma'am? Please, ma'am?

Okay, Mr. York. Now, is there anything
you might want to add to this statement?

What can I tell you? I was making a
living out front; he was dyin' backstage.

[Chuckles] Sign it.

You don't seem exactly
broken up over Drake's death.

I'll tell you what. I'll
split a bouquet with

you. Pick whatever
kind of flowers you want.

Sweet guy.

I hate to tell you this, Floyd,
but I think the sun just came up.

Oh, I'm glad you told me.

- Yeah. Ralph, you got anything
on that gun yet?
- [Knocking]

Excuse me.

New York? You sure?
Great work, Ralph. Thanks.

Lieutenant Novak, I've been
waiting several hours outside there.

Oh, lady, please. I haven't
slept all night, and I'm tired.

You know, you're not a witness in this
case, and I just don't have time for you.

I, too, have been up all night,
and I have got jet lag on top of it.

I was supposed to go on a TV
show this morning, but I canceled it...

because I thought that
this was more important.

Now, either you find time to
talk with me, or I will go on that

television show, and my
subject will not be my next book...

It will be the insensitivity and
arrogance of the city's homicide division.

All right. All right.
I'll make it simple.

Okay. The suspect was seen
standing over the victim holding the gun.

The only fingerprints on
the gun was his, and it was

common knowledge he'd been
arguing with Drake about money.

And, oh, yeah, the gun was
stolen from a pawnshop...

about six months
ago in New York City,

which is where Howard
comes from, I believe.

Now you’ve got the picture?
Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant.

And I'm sure you ran a
nitric acid test on Howard's

hand to determine whether
or not he fired the gun.

- We haven't gotten to that yet.
- Well, I hope you do it soon,

because after a few hours,
that test is meaningless.

Now, I'd like to see Howard.

You can't see him, Mrs.
Fletcher. He's in the lockup.

That's quite all right,
Lieutenant. Where can I see him?

[Wolf Whistles]

Hey, Princess. How 'bout a date?

How'd you like this shoe for
breakfast? Move it, tough guy.

[Novak] But I just said that. I
mean, didn’t you hear me say that?

Didn't I just say that? I mean,
what am I in? An echo chamber?

Look. Just get it
done, okay? Bye.

You've got 10 minutes.

Ms. Fletcher, I don't know what
to say. I'll tell you what to say.

Now, you sit right down there.

Now, did you or did
you not kill that man?

- No. He was dead when I walked in.
- Well, I'd like to believe that.

- On the other hand,
you did lie to Victoria.
- I never actually lied.

You told her that you had
a job with an insurance firm.

Well, I did... for almost
six months, but...

Mrs. Fletcher, do you know how hard
it is to sit in someone's living room...

when they'd rather be
watchin' television and tell

'em how rich they're
gonna be after they're dead?

They fired me. Victoria
would've understood that.

I know. That's the trouble. Vicky'd
marry me no matter what I was into,

including unemployment,
welfare and starvation.

Look, I don't know
how to explain this,

but I wanna be a performer,

and I knew if I didn't
give it a shot, a real shot,

that I'd be miserable and
so would my marriage.

See, that's why I answered the ad to
Les Champignons. Was that a crime?

Of course not.

Would you like a coffee? Sure.

It was only supposed
to be for two weeks. I

was gonna quit before
Victoria got out here.

Mr. Drake said I was the
world's worst female impersonator,

but the customers liked me 'cause
I was klutzy and I made 'em laugh.

He wouldn't let me quit. He knew I
was broke, so he held back on my wages.

That still doesn't explain
why you were standing

over him with a murder
weapon in your hand.

Well, see, I finished
my act, and I went back

to his office to quit
and get my money...

Mr. Drake, I'm not listening
to any more excuses.

This is my last night, and
I want what you owe me.

Does this belong
to you? Mr. Drake.

You don't have friendly Fritz with you
now. This time, you're gonna talk to me!

[Screams]

Murder! Catch that
killer! [Screams]

Sure, it was stupid,
but I panicked.

All I could see was my picture on
page one, getting busted in a dress.

Great. We can put it in a wedding
album next to my mug shot.

Oh, Howard, I am so relieved.
We've only had one killer in our family...

1777, I believe... And
the redcoat shot first.

But, you know, I wonder what
Miss Stevenson was doing there.

Well, everybody knew that
Mr. Drake and Barbara worked late...

a lot together.

Yeah, I get the idea.

Now, look. I've got the
name of a very good

lawyer, and is there
anything else you need?

How 'bout a pair of pants?

[Telephone Ringing]
[Clears Throat] Yeah?

Well, hello, Mrs. Fletcher.
How nice to hear from you again.

[Jessica] Yeah. I was just wondering
how the nitric acid test came out.

Uh, I'm still waiting for
the results. However, you'll

be happy to know we've
established the time of death.

- Now we're getting somewhere.
- Drake was killed between 9:50
and 10:05.

Fifteen minutes. Isn't that a little
precise, even for the medical examiner?

It has nothing to do with the
medical examiner, Mrs. Fletcher.

That's when York was
performing. The banging

of his drums covered
the sound of the shots.

Yeah, but...

Now, Mrs. Fletcher, if
you'll excuse me now,

I have the commissioner
on the other line.

Bye. What is it about that
woman that makes me nervous?

I think she's kind of cute.

[Vacuum Cleaner Whirring, Faint]

Uh, excuse me. Yeah?

Oh, uh, J.B. Fletcher,
isn't it? Hi. Bill Patterson.

Oh. Nice to meet you. I did a
little checking on you, you know.

Six paperbacks and
one movie sale. Listen,

do you have representation
on the West Coast?

Oh, thank you, Mr. Patterson.
Yes, I do have an agent.

Actually, I was looking
for Miss Barbara

Stevenson. She works
in the business office.

Well, I hope they're
doing a good job for you.

Through the club, backstage,
past the dressing rooms.

Thank you. Bye.

It's all been a terrible shock, but I
know that Al would want us to carry on.

I have to find somebody to replace
Howard. Let me worry about that.

Naturally, all contracts
will be honored.

Michelle, we have to do
something about your lighting.

You're getting some ugly
shadows under your chins.

[Mike] Well, if you wanna critique
my performance, Mrs. Drake,

I'd prefer the privacy
of my dressing room.

Don't you turn your back on me!

Don't you ever speak to me
that way in front of the staff again!

I suppose we do have to keep
up appearances, don't we, darling?

Oh. Excuse me. Mrs. Fletcher,
what'd they do? Find another body?

I was looking for Miss Stevenson.
Down the hall on the right.

Uh-huh. You're
Howard's aunt, aren't you?

Well, very soon, we hope. That's
a shame about this whole thing.

I mean, he's a really nice
kid, and he's got a lot of talent.

And I'm not just talkin' about
wearin' those dresses either.

Yeah, well, I think you'll be pleased
to know that he did not kill Mr. Drake.

Oh, he didn't?
Who did? The bird?

You know, you have a wonderful
sense of humor, Mr. York.

It's too bad it's wasted in a dump like
this, huh? I wouldn't call this a dump.

What would you call it?
You know, in Vegas... you

think they'd give a star
a dressing room like this?

They got a llama in one
of their shows up there.

The llama's got a better
dressing room than this.

Well, at least you got a great view. I
mean, look out there. You can see Alcatraz.

That's my manager,
Patterson. He couldn't

negotiate me more money,
so he negotiated a window.

[Freddy] Did you wanna
see me about something?

Hmm?

Oh, no, no. No. Forgive me
for interrupting you. Uh... Uh...

Down the hall on the right.
Thank you. Thank you very much.

[Barbara] If you’d like the figures, I
could have them for you in a few minutes.

Dear Barbara. Always so
organized. You know where

the bills are filed and
the bodies are buried.

Mrs. Drake, you misunderstand. I
bet you even type 80 words a minute.

Frankly, Barbara, I don't know how I
could ever run this club without you,

but I'm gonna try.

- You're fired.
- [Door Opens, Closes]

- Could I give you a lift?
- Oh, I know you.

- Howard's aunt... almost.
- Uh, right, right.

Say, that looks heavy.
Jump in. It's my treat.

Uh, thanks.

I really appreciate this now that
I'm on a budget. I just got fired.

Really? Uh-huh.

It must have been so
interesting working at the club.

It was. You wouldn't believe
some of the things that go on.

But the only way to run an office
is to learn to keep your mouth shut.

I never divulge company business. Oh,
I wouldn't dream of asking you anything.

However, I, uh,
did hear something.

I wouldn't tell a soul. Well,

Mr. Drake was already dead
when Howard came in the room.

No kidding!

Then who killed him? Oh, I wouldn't
know. I only got here yesterday.

I wouldn't be
surprised if she did it.

Mrs. Drake? Mm.

I suppose she would inherit the
club, but she seems such a nice lady.

Nice? [Scoffs]

Lucretia Borgia in furs.

Confidentially... and, I mean,
this is just between you and me...

She's having an
affair with Mike.

Mike. Michelle. The
female impersonator?

Oh. What a phony.

And nobody's supposed
to know this, but Mike

was trying to buy the
club from Mr. Drake.

Can you believe that?
And behind his back, he

and Mrs. D. are slipping
off to Lake Tahoe.

But I thought... Ohh. Now, don't
ever say you heard this from me,

but I wouldn't put it past
Bill Patterson to kill 'em.

Oh. Mr. York's agent. Uh-huh.

Why would he... The contract.

See, not many people
know this, but Mr. Drake

had Freddy under a
seven-year contract,

and recently, big offers
were coming in for Freddy.

I am talking about
megabucks. Except that

Mr. Drake wouldn't let
him out of the contract.

Stop at the top of the hill.

Thanks for the lift. And don't worry. I
won't say a word about what you've told me.

It is so nice to talk to someone
who knows how to be discreet.

Thinking of buying
it or merely jumping?

You kept me waiting. Is
this a sign of things to come?

Mike, if we're gonna
bicker like an old married

couple, let's do it over
something important, huh?

[Sighs] Is it something I said?

No. It's the way you said it. You
know, I'm not used to being summoned.

Oh, darling, don't pout. It was
merely a request, pure and simple.

I thought we should get our
stories straight for that Mrs. Fletcher.

She is determined to get Howard off
the hook by putting someone else on.

Well, surely not me? Nor me!

I mean, no reasonable
person could assume for one

moment that I had anything
to do with AI's death.

No. Other than the fact
that you despised the man...

and that you were talking to a
lawyer about divorce proceedings.

And naturally, you
didn't care that he

reneged on his promise
to sell you the club?

So here we are. We
both got rid of Al. Yep.

You have the club and all
of his money, and I have you.

A fortuitous turn of events. Couldn't
have worked out better if we'd planned it.

Which of course
we didn't... Well...

Darling, is there something I should
know just for my own peace of mind?

Funny, Mike. I was about to
ask you the same question.

You know, if you did kill him, it
wouldn't make any difference.

I'd still feel the
same way about you.

My very thought
about you, Candice.

Oh, Mike, you don't know how much
better I feel now that we've talked.

Me too, darling.

Mike... Michelle... was
backstage getting ready to go on.

Of course, Barbara... And I
sent Felix backstage at once.

Yeah, but you're sure about Patterson
and Mrs. Drake? They were out front?

Everybody saw them. Right.

Lieutenant? Oh, I'm so glad I caught
you. Any result on the nitric acid test?

Uh, it was negative, Mrs.
Fletcher. Oh, negative.

That means he didn't fire the gun.
Well, maybe he was wearing gloves.

Well, if he'd worn gloves, his fingerprints
wouldn't have been all over the gun.

You can't have it both ways,
Lieutenant. Incidentally, have you

noticed how many people around
this club are wearing gloves?

No, but I'm sure you've got a list.
Also, I'm not sure about the time of death.

Now, that's one
thing I am sure of.

Oh, you mean your theory that the shot
was masked by Freddy York's drum act? Mm.

Well, can you prove that scientifically?
How would you do that, Mrs. Fletcher?

[Firing] [Bird Squawks]

Did you hear that? Yes,
Mrs. Fletcher, I heard it.

Well, uh, let's
try it with music.

Now, let's just pretend
one of the girls is dancing.

♪ [Radio: Disco]

Once again, please, Charlie!

[Gunshot] Oh,
dear. I heard that.

We all heard it, Mrs.
Fletcher. With the

door closed. With the
door open. With music.

Even with a Mummer's
Parade going across the stage.

Face it, Mrs.
Fletcher. ♪ [Radio Off]

The shot would have been
heard except during York's act,

when York was playing
the drums on the stage.

Yes, I suppose that is the
only plausible explanation.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher. I'm
so happy to see that you're satisfied.

- Now, if you'll excuse me...
- Hey, Lieutenant. Wait a minute.

I mean, what the hell is going
on here? A detective audition?

What's this lady trying to suggest?
That one of us killed Drake?

- Are you all right, Mrs. Fletcher?
- Oh, yes.

Ohh.

[Groaning]

[Bell Ringing]

[Knocking]

Ohh. Oh, dear. I woke you up.

Yeah. Well, when I
work all night, I sleep a

little during the day,
or at least I try to.

I'd like to talk to
you about Howard.

You didn't come up here and wake me
up to tell me we're holding the wrong man?

You already know we are. [Sighs]

Uh, I made some coffee. You
want some? Oh, thank you.

What a pretty cat.
What's her name?

- George.
- [George Meows]

Oh, she likes you.
Most people, she hates.

Oh, that's the impression
I got about you.

Aha. Well, that's
my office persona.

Well, it just goes to show you
can't go by first impressions.

[Chuckles] Uh, Mrs.
Fletcher, you're a nice lady,

but, uh, I think you're
making a big mistake.

- Howard Griffin is guilty.
- Oh, for heaven's sakes.

There were at least four
people who had better

motives than Howard.
For instance, Mrs. Drake.

Yes. She gets the business. I know.
Freddy York and his agent, Bill Patterson,

trying to break Freddy's
long-term contract.

I know, Mrs. Fletcher.
I read the Chronicle.

I suppose you know that Michael
DuPont wanted to buy the club.

- Yes.
- And that Michael and Mrs. Drake
were having an affair?

Mrs. Fletcher, you're a bright
gal. You would've been a great cop.

But look. This is the real world, so
please... just leave the police work to us.

The last thing in the world I
want to do is interfere, Lieutenant.

But that's not what I'm worried
about. Look, we took some lab tests.

The rope that was holding the
stage light was eaten through by acid.

It was not an
accident. Oh, dear.

- Somebody wanted
to kill Mr. York.
- Maybe.

Or it could've been meant
to hit somebody else.

I don't know how to
thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, just so you know,
if you jump bail, the State

of California has an option
on my next four books.

And the name is Jessica. And I
really appreciate the suit, Jessica.

Well, I think it made a better
impression on the judge.

Let's call Vicky and celebrate.
I think that's a bit premature.

Howard, did you see Mrs. Drake
backstage during Freddy York's act? No.

You're sure? I'm
positive, but I did see her

comin' in the stage
door just before I went on.

Howard, I think that you should
take Vicky to lunch yourself,

and I'll take a
rain check. Wh...

Where are you goin'?

Oh! Good shot! Oh, my! What
a nice dog! What's his name?

Fritz, but be careful.
He's had attack training.

That's a very attractive outfit.
I've never seen it done in black.

I'm in mourning, Mrs. Fletcher.

- You know me?
- By now, everyone at the club
knows you.

Do please accept my
condolences. Your husband's

death must have
been a terrible shock.

Yes. We were very close.

Then I suppose you must have talked
to him shortly before the tragic event?

No. I didn't see him. I
arrived during Freddy's act.

Strange. Someone said they saw
you come in the stage door earlier.

They were wrong. Let me set you
straight, lady. I didn't kill my husband.

Oh, I'm sorry. Did I
suggest that? Look,

if you insist on sticking your
nose where it doesn't belong,

then check on Freddy York and
that bloodsucking agent of his.

- Oh, yes. The contract with the club.
- Not the club. With Al.

A personal services contract, which
is now null and void. That's right.

I went to the
hospital today to bring

Freddy flowers, and do
you know what he did?

He gave me notice.

Then he's well enough to
receive visitors. How nice.

Las Vegas. Atlantic City!

Hollywood! Wait,
wait, wait, wait, wait.

First and foremost, to Al Drake.

I never thought I'd see the day when
I'd be drinking to Al Drake. [Door Opens]

Oh, am I interrupting?

Not at all. Mrs. Fletcher, come on in.
Come on in. How about a bit of the bubbly?

Oh, no, no. Thank you. Oh, you're
looking so much better, Mr. York.

Well, thank you. I've been
thinking Lourdes. [Chuckles]

You met my manager,
Bill Patterson. Oh, yes.

The lady seems to know
just about everybody.

Well, what is it this
time, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, just wanted to wish Mr. York a speedy
recovery and, uh... [Bill] "And"? And what?

Just ask a few more questions, like
did I murder Al Drake? The answer is no.

Did Freddy murder Al Drake? The
answer is no. Bill, Bill, take it easy.

It's okay. I know you're
a mystery writer, but

I'll tell ya: You're
making a fool of yourself.

Why don’t you get back
to Nantucket? Maine.

Whatever. My client was
onstage when Drake was killed.

As a matter of fact, somebody
tried to kill him with a stage light.

Isn't that curious? Michelle DuPont is
sure that someone wanted to drop it on him,

and Lieutenant Novak thinks
they were trying to kill me,

and now you think it
was meant for Mr. York.

It is a bit of a
puzzler, isn't it?

I'm sorry, Vicky. I think we
oughta postpone the wedding.

I thought marriage was supposed to
be for better or worse. That's afterwards.

Darling, I just can't
ask you to tie yourself

to me with all this
hanging over my head.

But you're innocent.
I don't have a job!

I don't care. Aunt
Jessica, tell her.

What do you think, Aunt Jessica? I
think Noah is building his ark in there.

[Hammering] Darlings, I am going
to fall on my face unless I go to sleep.

Won't that noise disturb you? Right
now, I could sleep through Armageddon.

Now, listen to me,
children. We are going

to get to the bottom
of this. I promise you.

There's something I am
overlooking. I just know there is.

But I think it'll come to
me if I have a good sleep.

Okay.

We'll talk later.

[Sawing, Hammering]

[Circular Saw Whirs,
Hammering Continues] [Groans]

Of course!

It suddenly came
to me: the feather.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

- What came to you?
- Drake wasn't shot
during Freddy York's act.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, as
I recall, we scientific...

The killer used a silencer.

They don't make
silencers for that gun.

Remember the feather
we found on Mr. Drake's

jacket? Yes. It
came from the bird.

No. Whoever killed Drake used a
pillow to muffle the sound of the shot.

- That's why nobody heard it.
- Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

If what you say is true, he could've
been shot before Freddy went on the stage.

Exactly.

There's no bullet hole in
this pillow. But this pillow

was not in this room when
we discovered the body.

Mrs. Fletcher, please. Wait,
wait, wait. Don't take my word for it.

Look. No pillow.

These are police photographs. Where
did you get them? Your partner, Charlie.

You know, he's
really a very nice man.

Then someone put this pillow
in here after the investigation.

Because Drake's pillow
was damaged by the shot.

[Novak] So the murderer
had to get rid of it.

But the murderer was afraid that someone
would notice that Drake's pillow was gone,

so he put this one
there to cover his tracks.

I don't know if you've noticed, but the
settees in all the dressing rooms match.

Probably a bulk purchase.

Lieutenant, would you help
me to demonstrate something?

Please stand right there. Would you
mind telling me what this is all about?

It's very important that
you don't move. [Sighs]

You haven't moved,
have you? I haven't moved.

[Whooshing]

What were you trying to
do? Kill me? Aha! You moved.

- Of course I did!
- You heard it descending.

I'm not deaf. Well,
neither was Freddy York.

[Applause]

That was great. That
was... I really enjoyed

that, you know?
You're quite a performer.

You should get yourself a Guild card. I
didn't expect to find you here, Mr. York.

Well, I heal fast. You
see, I got good genes.

That was very theatrical, diving off
the stage when you didn't have to.

Well, it seems to me all you proved is
that I could've staged the falling lights.

That doesn't mean I had anything to
do with what happened to Al Drake.

You know what? I'd like to stay
around and talk, but I gotta fly to Vegas.

I hope my arms don't get tired.

You're beautiful. I'll see ya.

Will you lighten up? I mean, you both
know I was onstage when Drake got hit.

Yeah, but the lady here thinks you
shot him before you went on stage.

I think you used Mr. Drake's
pillow to muffle the shot.

Then you removed your fingerprints
from the gun, got rid of the pillow...

and went on stage.

Who writes your material?
I mean, who writes

this stuff? Your punch
lines just don't work.

I think you made one
very serious mistake. I

don't have time for this.
I have a plane to catch.

You were afraid that
someone would notice that

the pillow was gone
from Mr. Drake's room...

and that they would figure
out what had happened.

So you brought in the
pillow from your room.

Everybody... Everybody in this
place has got a pillow just like that. No.

This is your pillow. It's the only
one that is sun-faded, like the settee,

because yours is the only one
that is sitting right next to the window.

It's my luck. It's my dumb luck.

Half the people in this club
wanted Drake dead, and

your niece's boyfriend's
gotta get tagged for it.

I knew you were trouble
as soon as I saw you.

What was I gonna do? Spend the rest
of my life workin' in this rinky-dink club?

You ever try to tell jokes when
someone's got their hands on your throat?

Surely murder isn't the answer.

Yeah, well, you call it
murder. I call it a career move.

Look at me. What do you see?
I'm not just another comedian.

I'm Freddy York. I'm the first
guy that did his own rim shots.

I'm like the Edison of comedy.
I'm Robert Fulton on the drums.

So Al Drake sees me
one night. He says, "Kid,

you're good. Here's
a long-term contract.

It's your shot, your big break."

He broke my spirit.
That man broke my heart.

I couldn't let him do
that. I'm a creative genius.

Fair is fair.

He gave me a shot.

I gave him a shot.

Ba-dum-bum.

Should've shoved you
under that stage light.

- Why did you rig that?
- Why don't you ask her?

I think Mr. York was afraid the charges
against Howard would be dropped.

They weren't strong enough, so he
thought perhaps another murder attempt,

particularly against himself,
would point to someone else.

Boy, you are good. I mean,
you are really, really good.

You ever think of taking your act
on the road? You should play Vegas.

That reminds me. I
better cancel my tickets.

Doesn't look like
I'm gonna be goin'.

It's too bad. I could've
knocked 'em dead.

I'm sure you would have.

♪ [Organ: Ceremonial] [Man] By the power
vested in me by the State of California,

I now pronounce
you man and wife.

Oh, congratulations. Thank you.

Congratulations. Thank you.

Howard, that's wonderful. I'm sorry
about all the problems. No problem.

Howard, we're gonna miss you at
the club. You got a lot of talent, buddy.

Oh, thanks,

but I've got a new job
lined up, sellin' real estate.

Yes, with just enough time for a honeymoon
in Hawaii, thanks to Aunt Jessica.

Ah.

Howard. Howard. I got
big news for ya, baby.

I've been on the phone
for an hour. I got you a job.

- No way, Bill. I'm not
wearing any more dresses.
- Forget the dresses.

This is an acting job. Two
days a week on a soap.

It's in Hollywood.
Starts on Monday.

- Monday?
- What happened with real estate?

- And what about Hawaii?
- Well, we'll just have to forget
about that.

This is what Howard has always
wanted and that's what we're gonna do.

What do you think, Aunt Jessica?

Well, I don't
usually give advice,

but in this case,
I say go for it.

[All Laughing]