Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 10, Episode 9 - Murder at a Discount - full transcript
One of Jessica's best-selling mysteries makes her the target of a lawsuit by a man who was tried and acquitted for murder.
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
Hey, neighbors! This
is Daffy Dave Novaro!
Jessica Fletcher? Yes.
Consider yourself served by
the State Court of New York.
Anything to see
that snake squirm.
The manicurist is telling everyone
I am married to a murderer.
I mean, I just wanted to take her
head and stick it in the cuticle softener.
You've ruined my
life. I got nothing left.
So he beat the rap. As far as I'm
concerned, the guy's guilty as hell.
Excuse me.
And every day you wait
is gonna cost you money.
I can't believe the number of
lives I seem to have disrupted.
I also know my father.
With restitution, treble damages,
the whole ball of wax, 10 million.
So help me, Fletcher,
you're gonna pay.
What do you think, Jessica?
Well, it certainly is dramatic.
Lurid is more like it, but
it's what sells paperbacks.
Well, the timing
couldn't be better.
With The Uncaught on the Times Best-Seller
List for nine consecutive months,
the paperback version
will go through the roof.
I take it you approve.
How would you feel about putting
a red rose in her outstretched hand?
It would sort of
soften it a little bit.
Implying the love that
once was. That's great.
I'm gonna miss my plane.
I'll call you a cab.
Listen, I cannot tell you how
much I am looking forward
to sitting on the beach in Maui
and doing absolutely nothing
and loving every minute of it!
So you're sure I can't talk you
into one book-signing in Honolulu?
I'm sorry, Ted, but not even an
erupting volcano will prevent me from...
Sir, please, wait. You
can't go back there.
Jessica Fletcher? Yes.
Consider yourself served by
the State Court of New York.
I'm sorry, Mr. Hartley.
Just so you don't feel cheated,
Mr. Hartley, I got one for you.
David Novaro, plaintiff.
Who the devil is David Novaro?
Okay. Let's try it again.
Daffy Dave, take 5.
And cue Dave.
Hey, neighbors! This is Daffy
Dave Novaro telling you to run,
don't walk, to Daffy
Dave's Videorama!
Look at this! Every set red-tagged
at prices you're not gonna believe.
No wonder they call me daffy!
Look here! Two, three...
I made a mistake on that.
Maybe we can go
back and do this again.
Cut.
Sorry, Eli, I'm
kind of distracted.
Yeah. Tell me. How
about we take a break?
Daffy Dave's is currently having
a two-for-one videotape sale.
Dave! One more phone
call from our suppliers,
and I'm gonna scream. You've
got to sign these checks...
Lillian, not now, huh?
Ramon, who you gonna sell back
here, me? Up front, muy pronto!
Yes, sir, Mr. Dave.
How about some good news for a
change? Like some bucks coming in!
What's the problem this time?
You're his partner, why
don't you talk to him?
Well, what am I gonna say?
Some dame writes a book and
ruins his life, he should forget about it?
Our life, Neil. It's
ruining our life.
Another month like the last
one, and we're out of business.
Mrs. Fletcher. Your
mystery novel, The Uncaught,
do you remember
your source material?
My source material.
Specifically relating to
the young wife's murder.
I believe in your book you
call her Rebecca Gallway.
Aaron, there was
no source material.
I mean, the entire plot,
the situation, the characters,
they all came out
of my imagination.
You're absolutely sure? Because
according to Novaro's lawyer,
The Uncaught is a
thinly disguised account
of his first wife's
murder five years ago.
Well, that's absurd!
Well, that's
only the half of it.
Novaro was charged with the
murder and was eventually exonerated.
The case against him
was dropped. Closed.
Until my book comes along,
inflicting severe mental anguish, economic
hardship, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Well, that's what
they're claiming, yes.
So what damages are they asking?
With restitution, treble damages,
the whole ball of wax, 10 million.
Well, what about our errors and
omissions insurance? Doesn't that cover us?
Only up until five million. But
that won't help Mrs. Fletcher.
Since you wrote the book, the
insurance company could turn around
and sue you for
full restitution.
In your contract with Ted, you represented
that it was your own original material.
And it was! Look, Ted,
will you stop fretting?
Not only have I never
heard of this man,
nor of the circumstances
surrounding his late wife,
in my book, the man
is guilty of the murder.
Which, unfortunately,
could work against you.
Oh, yeah. The claim of
severe mental anguish.
In the eyes of the law,
Novaro was judged innocent
and therefore entitled
to his good reputation.
Well, as far as I'm concerned,
the charges are totally capricious.
And I am not gonna allow them to stop
me from taking the first flight to Hawaii.
Mrs. Fletcher, I'm afraid
that won't be possible.
You're scheduled to give a
deposition tomorrow morning.
I see.
Well, in that case, Ted, I
would like your research staff
to dig up every iota of information
that you can about the Novaro murder.
And the quicker, the
better. I'll get right on that.
Trust me, Ted.
I write fiction. And that's
all my book is, a pure fiction.
Attention, all Daffy
Dave shoppers...
Uh-oh. Tell the wife
I'm in conference, okay?
Yes, sir.
Remember, Dave's not
crazy, he's j just a little daffy.
No, you don't, Dave.
Oh, hi, sweetheart. What
happened to the aerobics class?
I've had it, Dave. I mean,
today is the last straw.
Please, Iris, not here.
Just now, at the hairdresser's,
the manicurist is telling everyone
I am married to a murderer.
I mean, I just wanted to take her
head and stick it in the cuticle softener.
I'm sorry, honey.
And this morning,
after you left the house,
three calls from tabloids wanting
articles on "I married a killer."
Three phone calls, Dave!
Okay, okay.
No, it is not okay!
Dave, ever since that
book came out, it's like...
It's like I don't exist anymore.
I mean, you're never home.
We never talk. You haven't
touched me in months.
It's like I'm married
to a zombie!
Iris!
It is just like five years
ago, and I have had it!
Can we talk about this later?
Dave, there is no later.
I'm seeing a lawyer.
No, now, come on. I know
I've been a little crazy lately
trying to hold the
business together.
But I swear, honey, we're gonna
walk away from this lawsuit with millions.
And then it's just
you and me, babe.
I swear, I'll make
it all up to you.
We'll travel, maybe buy
that house in the mountains.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
It's always "maybe" with you.
So, at least think it over,
okay? I mean, divorce. Iris.
It's not like returning
a dress to Bergdorf's.
We're talking a lifetime
here. Commitment.
I love you, Iris.
I need you. Now more than ever.
Well, it's not like I'm gonna
change my mind or anything.
Hey. That's all a
guy has to hear.
Hello, Iris.
Oh, hi, Neil.
You okay?
Well, I couldn't
help but overhear.
You know, if you need
someone to talk to...
Oh, Neil, that's
sweet of you. Thanks.
But this is between Dave and me.
Just remember I'm here
for you. Just like the old days.
You don't give up, do you, Neil?
Well? You tell him?
I tried to.
I thought he was
gonna go ballistic on me,
so I promised
him I'd think it over.
Oh, Randy, don't be like that.
He is going through
hell right now.
So I'll tell him
about us next week.
I gotta tell you,
Iris, I'm worried.
Why? Oh, honey,
we're gonna do this.
I'm talking about time and
timing. Not for me, for you.
And Videorama's dying.
And every day you wait
is gonna cost you money.
You know, if I thought for one
minute that this "us" was about money...
Look, I'm gonna pretend
you didn't just say that.
No, honey, I'm sorry.
If you still love this
guy, please, just say so.
Come on, you
know that isn't true.
Look, all I'm saying
is, if you love someone
who gave a bum like Novaro
the best years of her life,
you want that person to
get what she's entitled to.
No matter what it is. Right?
Local TV huckster
Daffy Dave Novaro
has brought a $10 million
defamation of character lawsuit
against famed mystery writer
J.B. Fletcher and her publisher.
Seen here five years
ago at the time of his arrest
for the murder of his wife,
Janet Novaro. Artie Gelber?
Accompanied by his lawyer,
Novaro had this to say earlier today.
Sure, I'm gonna
sue. Wouldn't you?
I mean, I thought I went through
the ultimate pain five years ago
when someone murdered Janet.
Well, this book has
brought it all back in spades!
Hello? RICHIE:
Hello, Mrs. Fletcher,
a Mr. Trent is here to see you.
Thank you, Richie. Have
him come right up, please.
I just wanted to thank you for proving
to the world what I always knew.
Jury or no jury, Dave Novaro
murdered my daughter.
Mr. Trent, I can
appreciate how you feel,
but there is no
connection whatsoever
between my book and
Janet Novaro's tragic death.
That's impossible.
But the truth is, I
agreed to see you
because I hoped that you could
spread some light on the discrepancies
which will help
to prove my point.
But it's all there. Even their
most intimate marital problems.
You mean, she had an affair?
Almost. She came
this close. She told me.
But Janet wasn't
that kind of woman.
Despite the fact that like
the couple in your novel,
Novaro was so obsessed with his
business, he didn't have time for her.
Divorce was inevitable.
But that's not the
case in my book.
Mrs. Fletcher, you're splitting
hairs. I'll give you the only difference.
David Novaro murdered
not once, but twice.
Twice?
My wife, Mrs. Fletcher. Janet's mother.
She never recovered from the grief.
She died six months
after Janet was murdered.
I'm sorry.
So, if I can be of help, perhaps
by testifying on your behalf?
Anything. Let me know.
Anything to see that snake squirm.
Well, thank you, Mr. Trent.
It's quite clear that we
have vastly different motives.
And while I can understand how you
feel, I have no wish to hurt Mr. Novaro.
I only want to prove to him and to you
that you are mistaken about my book.
You do what you have to do,
and I'll do what I have to do.
It was routine stuff. Pretty
much like in your book.
He and his wife get separated.
She goes and has the
locks changed. Thank you.
He's smart. His garage
door opener still works,
but instead, Novaro
breaks through a window,
bludgeons his wife to death,
and steals a bunch of jewelry to
make it look like it was a burglary.
Novaro.
Okay, so he beat the rap.
As far as I'm concerned, the
guy's guilty as hell. Excuse me.
You're sure?
Trust me. Jessica, the
guy'd be rotting in prison
if it wasn't for one key piece
of evidence falling apart on us.
Which was?
Faulty lab report
of Novaro's DNA.
DNA?
Taken from a particle of skin
found under the wife's fingernails.
Just like in your book.
You know, it's amazing.
I was in Cabot Cove when I wrote
The Uncaught. I never heard of the case.
But one after another, the
similarities just keep piling up.
Come on, Jessica, this is Artie.
You didn't see a New York
paper? It got a lot of ink.
Look, Artie, I'm positive.
Yeah? So, how come in here you even
got the husband ditching the wife's car
in a reservoir to make it look like
an intruder used it for a getaway?
You mean that's what
actually happened?
The Croton Reservoir.
They fished it out a
couple of days later.
But there are
differences, aren't there?
Well, oh, sure.
Couple of minor things.
The weapon, the time of
day, the number of kids.
Oh, yeah, your guy stole some...
Your guy stole some rare stamps
to make it look like a robbery,
instead of the jewelry.
And, oh, of course,
your killer used the garage
door opener to get in.
Anything else?
Yeah. I'm trying
to get rid of my car.
Eight years old. Low
mileage. Mint condition.
Driven by a little old police
lieutenant from Queens
who spends more money on
parking than he does for rent.
Well, I'll keep my ears open.
That isn't quite
what I had in mind.
I was hoping that you
could help me write an ad.
You know, a grabber.
Fresh, but not too different.
Novaro?
His daughter.
Real piece of work herself, if our
phone conversations are any indication.
You know, I can't remember the
last time I had to give a deposition.
Don't worry. You're
gonna be just fine.
Hey, doesn't counsel
rate a goodbye hug?
I don't know what I'd do
without you, sweetheart.
Oh, I'll be right with you,
Mr. Woodman. Mrs. Fletcher.
You! Daddy.
Lady, you've ruined my life.
I got nothing left. My business,
my marriage, my health, gone!
Down the tubes,
all thanks to you!
Mr. Novaro, please, you should
not be speaking to my client.
Oh, that's right. I forgot.
We gotta keep it civilized.
She can call me a wife killer, but we
gotta protect your client at all costs.
Mr. Novaro, have you
read The Uncaught?
What for? To aggravate
myself all over again?
Thanks, but no, thanks.
Well, perhaps you should read it
before disrupting both of our lives.
Look, I'm sorry for any discomfort
that you may have experienced.
But my book is not what
you or your advisers think.
Right. And I'm Jo-Jo the
Dog-Faced Boy. All right, Daddy,
I'll handle this, I
promise. Go, now.
Okay. But I'll get
even. All right.
So help me, Fletcher,
you're gonna pay.
Now, Mrs. Fletcher, about
the murderer's motive.
In my book, the
motive is twofold.
Misguided love turned
to hatred. And money.
As it is with any number of mystery
novels since the genre was invented.
We're taking a deposition, Mrs.
Fletcher, not writing an editorial.
That cuts both ways, Counselor.
One last question.
Do you recall the value you
placed on the block of rare stamps?
The so-called inverted
block of 1924 US airmails
the husband in your book planned
to convert into cash after the murder?
Yes. It was $250,000.
$250,000.
Exactly the appraised value
of the diamond necklace
that was stolen while
my mother lay dead.
While the victim lay dead.
Correction noted.
As is the fact that both the
appraisal of the victim's necklace
and the summary of
Mr. Novaro's financial problems
were made public
knowledge during his trial.
Thank you, both.
We'll be in touch.
Excuse me, Ms. Novaro.
I presume this is your mother?
Mmm-hmm.
And this would be the
necklace that was stolen?
A few pieces were recovered when they found
my mother's car, but not the necklace.
If you'll excuse me,
I have work to do.
I mean, it's absolutely
uncanny, Ted.
I mean, the similarities between
my book and the Novaro affair
far outweigh the differences.
I hate to admit it. It
doesn't look good.
Well, well, well. I
thought that was you.
I beg your pardon?
Iris. Mrs. Iris Novaro.
Now, surely that
name rings a bell.
Young lady, please.
You and your lousy book.
You know, you
wrecked my marriage.
Oh, Mrs. Novaro,
please, sit down.
With you? You gotta be kidding.
I ought to be suing you, too,
the way you made me look!
I beg your pardon?
Oh, yeah, I was Dave's
secretary before we were married.
But I was not a bimbo
the way you had it.
And we were not fooling around.
Marcel.
The past was over and done
with until your book came along.
Madam, please. If you continue,
I will have to ask you to leave.
I hope Dave takes
you to the cleaners.
Now, don't take it
to heart, Jessica.
The woman's obviously disturbed.
Well, that makes two of us.
I can't believe the number of
lives I seem to have disrupted.
I just hate seeing you being
battered from pillar to post like this.
Think.
Now, you yourself say there's enough
damning evidence to convince a jury.
Not to mention the astronomical
legal costs if we go to trial.
Ted, what are you saying?
I'm suggesting that you give some serious
thought to an out-of-court settlement.
No. I can't.
Now, don't reject
it out of hand, Jess.
Look, Collins was right.
Because of all the publicity, The
Uncaught is selling like wildfire.
We lose, but we win.
Ted, you are completely
missing my point.
A settlement would be an admission
that I had stolen Dave Novaro's story.
That I had purposely
smeared him. And I didn't.
And somehow, I
am going to prove it.
Hey, Woodman!
Couldn't get a cab, huh?
Oh, that's cute. Let me
guess. You drive a Porsche.
I did. Traded it
in for a Beemer.
Oh, well, that figures. Well,
Mr. Beemer, this is for you.
It's a court order barring further
sales and promotion of The Uncaught.
Have a nice day.
Hey. Hey, wait a minute.
I can't. I'm low on air.
Dave.
I thought you were
thinking it over.
Dave, not here.
Moving out of the house,
that's thinking it over?
That's not a house,
it's a morgue.
I just... I need some space.
I need a place to breathe.
Okay. But I still
got a chance, right?
Oh, Dave, I don't know.
You forgot to take Freddie.
Dave.
I won him for you at Coney Island,
remember? Right next to Nathan's.
Yeah, look. He's still got
his mustard stains, too.
Yeah. And the
trial, five years ago,
our signal meaning "I love you."
I know everyone
thought I had an allergy.
That kept me going, doll.
You being there for me.
Don't worry. I gotta
take off now, but...
As long as I still have a
chance, that's all I ask.
How could you, Rachel? How
could you represent that monster?
Grandpa, he's my
father. I love him.
He also murdered your
mother. Or don't you remember?
Oh, I remember. And
I wish you would, too.
A jury decided he was innocent.
Wrong. All that jury decided was that
the prosecution failed to prove its case.
God, I'll never forget
the night I called her
to tell her I was accepted
at NYU Law School.
She was so happy, she couldn't
wait to tell Daddy. And then...
Look, Grandpa, we both know you
didn't like Daddy from the day you met him.
I accept that. But you have to
accept where I'm coming from.
You look just like your mother.
What I'm trying to say is, you've got to
put all these awful memories behind you.
For both our sakes?
She was so
beautiful. So full of life.
She'd walk into a room,
it was like the sun...
Grandpa, please.
She could've had anybody.
Anybody.
But she had to run
off and marry him.
It got you me. I
love you, Grandpa.
And I love you, honey.
But it's not right.
It's not right that your mother lies
dead in her grave and he's still alive.
Grandpa, I know I can't change your
mind, but you aren't gonna change mine.
You owe it to your mother.
What? To let that woman crucify
my father? You've got to stop this.
Why? Because he was nice to you?
Al Capone was nice to his kids!
That's not fair.
Life's not fair, Rachel.
Your father got off on a
technicality, and you know it.
Listen, Dave, I've just
gone over the books.
We need to start
cutting expenses.
Beginning with the commercials.
Neil, not now, I'm busy.
Yeah, Dave, all that production,
they're costing us a fortune, and
they're not bringing in any business.
We've gotta do them on
the cheap or forget them.
Listen, you. I call the shots
around here, and don't you forget it.
Ever since we were kids,
everything you got was thanks to me.
So, go now, huh?
Don't make me sorry I
took you along for the ride.
I finished the payroll,
Dave, and I'll lock up.
Thanks, Lillian.
Oh, by the way, we have to
go over the accounts tomorrow.
I want to know where
all this money's going.
Well, sure, Dave. Anytime.
I'm sorry it's not
working with Iris.
Funny, when we
were in high school,
the biggest crisis of our lives was who
we were going to end up with at the prom.
Remember?
I thought you'd never
ask. And then you called.
Then and there
I figured, that's it.
We're gonna get married
and have a bunch of kids.
But that's life, huh?
Hello. Who?
Dave Novaro, Mrs. Fletcher.
Listen, we gotta talk right away.
Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Novaro, but I heard
all I want to hear from you this morning.
No, you don't understand. I'm
thinking of dropping the lawsuit.
What? I took what
you said to heart.
I've been reading your book.
And thanks to you, I think I
know who murdered my wife.
But I gotta ask you a
couple of questions.
Look, I must tell
you, Mr. Novaro,
my attorney has advised me not to
talk to you under any circumstances.
Please, Mrs. Fletcher, I was a
lousy husband, but I loved my wife.
Nailing her killer means more to
me than all the money in the world.
Well, all right, Mr. Novaro.
My address is 941
West 60th, Apartment 4B.
Apartment 4B. Got it.
I'll be there in 20 minutes.
Oh, for Pete's sake!
It's kind of cold out
here tonight, Dave.
Hilda, what do you think
I am, a money machine?
Here.
Here's 10 bucks. Go get
yourself something to eat,
but this is the last time.
God bless you, Dave.
That's curious.
Operator. Operator, I've
been calling a number
that's been busy over an hour.
I wonder, could you check to see
if someone's talking on the line?
The number, please? 555-4410.
Will you pay the charges?
Yes, I'll pay the charge.
There's no one on the line.
No one on the line?
That's correct, ma'am.
Thank you very much.
Well? Drives okay.
You offering any
kind of warranty?
Henderson, what do you want
from me? The car's eight years old.
You see what kind
of great shape it's in.
Gelber.
Jessica. I thought all the
regular people were asleep.
I'm sorry to bother you,
Artie, but I'm concerned.
Something may have
happened to Dave Novaro.
How so?
Well, he was due at my
apartment over two hours ago.
Could you meet me at his store?
Why not? I only need about 10
hours of sack time a week. I'll be there.
Thanks. Bye.
About the car. Think about it.
But I gotta have an answer
by tomorrow morning.
There's a guy in Bayside
who's about ready to commit.
Okay, I'll buy it.
Henderson, believe me, you
are going to thank me for this.
Yeah, I was one of
the last to see him.
I can't believe it.
We grew up together.
I mean, we weren't just
partners, we were best friends.
Okay. Thanks.
Did Novaro say anything more specific
than, "I've been reading your book"?
Yes, he did.
He said, "Thanks to you, I think
I know who murdered my wife."
Lieutenant, it had
to be a break-in.
My computer and my
petty cash box are missing.
Huh. A break-in. What
did Yogi Berra used to say?
"Déjà" something.
"Déjà vu all over again."
Henderson, take a
statement from Mrs. Conway.
Miss Conway.
I kept the petty cash
box in that drawer...
I presume you're gonna
have every page fingerprinted.
Just curious.
Henderson!
Henderson. This goes
to forensics, ASAP.
Rachel, I'm so
sorry about your dad.
Thank you.
But if you think my father's death
is gonna put an end to the lawsuit,
you've got another thing coming.
It's true, Jessica. As
executor of her father's estate,
Ms. Novaro can continue to
pursue an ongoing legal action.
Well, it looks like this fruit punch is as
close to Hawaii as I'm ever gonna get.
About Rachel, Ms.
Novaro, was she all right?
She's having a hard time.
Hello. Artie!
Just got the lab
report on the book.
Novaro's fingerprints track up to
the first paragraph on page 247.
Two forty-seven. Any
other developments?
Yeah. Henderson loves the car.
Oh, good. Thanks again, Artie.
What's this? The door handle.
I unlocked the door, the whole
thing came off in my hand.
Amazing. I drove it eight
years. That never happened.
As legal counsel for
the Parents United,
I intend to show that the location
of a hazardous waste dump
near the Stony Lake
Elementary School
poses an immediate risk
and danger to all the children...
Yes?
Rachel, please forgive me.
I know that this is a bad time.
I'm really quite busy.
But it is important
that we talk. Please.
It could hold the key
to your mother's murder,
and quite possibly
your father's as well.
I find that hard to
believe, but do go on.
Well, your father's fingerprints
indicate that he had reached
the top of page 247 of my novel
when something he read inspired
him to pick up the phone and call me.
You're sure? Well,
unfortunately, no.
I was hoping that you might be able to
shed some light on this particular passage.
May I?
Yes, please.
Thank you.
"Alex smiled. Every
base was covered.
"Kelly, his secretary, would
order him in a sandwich
"before leaving to run a
long list of personal errands,
"giving him more than enough
time to slip out the fire exit,
"drive home, dispose of Rebecca,
"then slip back into his office to
resume the mantle of office workaholic."
Now, does any of that strike
a chord? Anything at all?
No. Nothing.
Mrs. Fletcher, I
know you mean well,
and I appreciate your interest.
But I'm really running into
a bit of a time problem here.
Of course. I understand.
Isn't that the necklace that your
mother wore in the photograph?
The one that disappeared
the day that she was...
It's a paste copy Daddy had made
when he had to pawn the
original during some hard times.
He was too proud to admit
he was down on his luck
and he knew how
much she loved it.
Did she know?
No. He never told her.
When his business turned around,
he redeemed the original
and gave me this one.
I don't know why I keep it.
Ever since what
happened to Mother,
I hate everything about
it. I pretend it's not there.
It is the contention
of the Parents United
that the health
and well-being...
The remote control.
It wasn't there.
Rachel, may I use
your phone, please?
Sure.
You're late. Out joyriding?
I miss that car already.
You didn't tell me
about the gas gauge.
What didn't I tell you?
That it's backwards. It
indicates "F" when it means "E."
Sometimes, okay, yes.
Every couple of years
or so, it goes a little
hinky for a couple
of days. No big deal.
I had to push it off the
Long Island Expressway.
I caused a traffic
backup four miles long.
And then, there's
the left-turn indicator.
I'll take care of it. Gelber.
Artie, it's Jessica.
I have an important question
to ask about Janet Novaro's car.
Sure. I'll pull the
file. My pleasure.
Thanks.
Everybody's car crazy.
Lieutenant, they
need you in forensics.
I can't get settled
down here. Come on.
Hey. How you holding up?
Okay. What's all this?
It's a surprise. I got
us out of our lease.
Randy, what are
you talking about?
Yeah. I sweet-talked the landlady. It's
only gonna cost us a couple months' rent.
But why? Where are we going?
Where are we going? Where
do you think? Your house.
Randy, are you crazy?
Look, I know how hard
it was for you to leave.
And now you can
have it all again.
I mean, I don't want
to stand in your way.
We can do barbecues on the
patio. We can go for walks...
Randy, I don't have a house!
What do you mean?
I mean Dave made me sign a prenuptial
agreement. Everything goes to Rachel.
You're kidding.
Oh, God.
Everything?
Oh, I couldn't even see
the forest for the muscles.
Iris, you're not
making any sense.
No, honey, but you finally are.
That's all this
ever was, wasn't it?
And I bought it. I was just like a little
girl on her first trip to the Big Apple.
No, that's not true. Don't
you know by now that...
Are you sure, everything?
Here. Just so it's not a
total loss, just take it all.
Iris, where the
hell are you going?
I don't know, Randy. But when I
get there, don't expect a postcard.
Excuse me, Detective Henderson.
They told me downstairs
that the Lieutenant was out,
but he said that he would dig
out Janet Novaro's file for me.
Right.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but he
didn't say anything to me about it.
I see. Well, I
wonder, would you...
Jessica. You can
forget the theories.
We've got Dave
Novaro's murderer.
And since Novaro murdered this man's
daughter, we can button that case up, too.
Artie, Norman Trent
was bitter, but murder?
Oh, Jessica, you can
bet the house on it.
Number one, we recovered
the murder weapon.
Oh, the cane. It was in a
dumpster just outside Novaro's store.
Number two, forensics says his
fingerprints are all over the joint.
Number three, he was seen coming out
of his apartment just before the murder.
And number four, unlike
the Janet Novaro murder,
we've got us an eyewitness.
She had just gotten a
handout from Novaro.
She was leaving the area
when Trent showed up.
Novaro must've forgotten to relock
the door, because Trent let himself in.
On top of which Trent
admits to being there.
Says he intended to kill him.
He confessed?
Nah, he's giving us some cock-and-bull
story about second thoughts.
And then he claims that
somebody entered the store,
he panicked, so he rushed out,
and that's when he dropped the cane.
Yes, but what puzzles me is
how could an infirm, elderly
old gentleman like Mr. Trent
overcome a younger,
much stronger man?
Much as he hated Mr. Novaro,
why would he alienate,
forever, his only granddaughter?
Come on, Jessica,
we're talking passion here.
Blind rage that
finally boiled over.
Still, I'd like to see the
photographs of Janet Novaro's car.
Why not?
Thank you.
Gelber.
Just now?
All the shocks? Okay,
Henderson, okay. I'll pay for them.
Artie, you said that even though
all the locks had been changed,
Dave Novaro had a garage
door opener in his possession?
Yeah. It still worked. Janet
Novaro never changed the code.
Well, then his wife must
have had a door opener, too.
Look. You can see the impression
where it was clipped
to the sun visor.
So?
Well, where is it?
Well, it should be
in the inventory.
Well, it isn't there, is it?
Huh. Well, it wasn't submitted into
evidence. What does that prove?
Well, if I'm not mistaken, that Norman
Trent is innocent. And so is Dave Novaro.
Now, why don't you
call his daughter?
And I wonder if I could trouble you
for a classified telephone directory?
Thank you.
Like Dave Novaro, we place
ourselves in God's hands.
Asking not why such a good and
decent man was taken from us so young,
but how we can better
understand that it was God's will.
And now, let us join
together in silent prayer.
Iris. Go away!
Rachel, I'm really
sorry about your father.
Thank you.
And now the words that
echo through all of time.
Earth to earth, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust.
May his smile shine
upon us all, unto eternity.
In the name of the Father, the Son
and the Holy Spirit. We pray. Amen.
Amen.
How did it go?
I think we'll know in a few
minutes if we follow that limousine.
You can relax, Iris. That's
the real one, all right.
Rachel was wearing this paste
copy you never knew existed.
You're under arrest, Mrs. Novaro, for the
murder of your husband and Janet Novaro.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.
You know, you people
are out of your minds.
I didn't murder anyone.
Oh, but you did.
You murdered Janet
Novaro out of jealousy
after learning that she and
David planned to reconcile.
Then you stole this necklace
to make it look like a robbery.
Beautiful, indeed.
Not to mention worth
a cool 250 grand.
Comes the rainy day when things
between you and Novaro don't pan out.
No way. Dave killed her.
For the insurance
and the necklace.
And then asked
me to hide it for him.
Nice try, Iris.
Quite an irony.
A passage from my book, which
I've been defending as pure fiction,
is what tipped off Mr. Novaro that it
was you who murdered his first wife.
And tipped me off as well.
I don't know what the
hell you're talking about.
"Kelly, his secretary, would
order him in a sandwich
"before leaving to run a
long list of personal errands,
"giving him more than enough
time to slip out the fire exit,
"drive home,
dispose of Rebecca."
And what does that
have to do with me?
Everything, lady, since you were Novaro's
secretary at the time of his wife's murder.
Your husband read that
and suddenly remembered
he'd given his wife's garage
opener to his secretary
to have it repaired, several
weeks before her death.
He gave it to you, Iris.
And when I confirmed that Janet
Novaro's garage opener was never located,
I realized it had to be you who used
your lunch hour to pick up the opener,
slip into the house through
the garage and kill her.
There's no way
you can prove that.
I believe we can.
I tracked down the repair shop.
It was just up the
street from Daffy Dave's.
We also got the receipt that you picked
up and signed the day of the murder.
And we checked your
gasoline credit card receipts.
You filled up a mile from the
house within minutes of the murder.
You know, this is one
thing I didn't figure on.
Dave never stopped loving Janet.
I think that's what ticked
me off so much that night
when I stopped by the store to tell
him I didn't want a divorce after all.
Someone was just
running out of the store.
That would've been Norman Trent.
According to his statement,
he went there to avenge his daughter
but was having second thoughts.
Well, he was in such a hurry
to get out, he dropped his cane.
That was Dave's misfortune.
He stormed out of his office,
saying he had read your book
and it reminded him of how he had given
me the damn garage opener to get fixed,
and that was the way I
got back into the house.
And the fact is,
it was all true.
It made me angry. I forgot why I was
there because he was gonna call the police.
That's when I hit
him with the cane.
Dave.
I cleaned my prints off it and threw
it in the dumpster down the street.
After all these years, no
way was I gonna go to jail.
You wanna bet?
Weird. In a way, your novel turned
out to be right on the money after all.
In a lucky way.
Incidentally, if you hear of anybody
who wants to buy my car, give me a jingle.
I thought you'd sold it
to Detective Henderson.
I did.
Unfortunately, some people are just not cut
out to own an automobile with character.
Hey, Jessica. We wanted to
catch you before you left for Hawaii.
And make it official that
I've dropped the lawsuit.
Well, thank goodness!
And, Jessica, guess who's
opening up a law practice together?
Not you two?
Well, that's wonderful.
Congratulations.
Down on the Lower East Side, where
people really need representation.
I thought we agreed on Midtown.
Near my corporate accounts.
Aaron, a general
practice means everybody.
Look, Aaron, Rachel, when
you make up your minds,
please send me an
announcement to Maui.
Hey, neighbors! This
is Daffy Dave Novaro!
Jessica Fletcher? Yes.
Consider yourself served by
the State Court of New York.
Anything to see
that snake squirm.
The manicurist is telling everyone
I am married to a murderer.
I mean, I just wanted to take her
head and stick it in the cuticle softener.
You've ruined my
life. I got nothing left.
So he beat the rap. As far as I'm
concerned, the guy's guilty as hell.
Excuse me.
And every day you wait
is gonna cost you money.
I can't believe the number of
lives I seem to have disrupted.
I also know my father.
With restitution, treble damages,
the whole ball of wax, 10 million.
So help me, Fletcher,
you're gonna pay.
What do you think, Jessica?
Well, it certainly is dramatic.
Lurid is more like it, but
it's what sells paperbacks.
Well, the timing
couldn't be better.
With The Uncaught on the Times Best-Seller
List for nine consecutive months,
the paperback version
will go through the roof.
I take it you approve.
How would you feel about putting
a red rose in her outstretched hand?
It would sort of
soften it a little bit.
Implying the love that
once was. That's great.
I'm gonna miss my plane.
I'll call you a cab.
Listen, I cannot tell you how
much I am looking forward
to sitting on the beach in Maui
and doing absolutely nothing
and loving every minute of it!
So you're sure I can't talk you
into one book-signing in Honolulu?
I'm sorry, Ted, but not even an
erupting volcano will prevent me from...
Sir, please, wait. You
can't go back there.
Jessica Fletcher? Yes.
Consider yourself served by
the State Court of New York.
I'm sorry, Mr. Hartley.
Just so you don't feel cheated,
Mr. Hartley, I got one for you.
David Novaro, plaintiff.
Who the devil is David Novaro?
Okay. Let's try it again.
Daffy Dave, take 5.
And cue Dave.
Hey, neighbors! This is Daffy
Dave Novaro telling you to run,
don't walk, to Daffy
Dave's Videorama!
Look at this! Every set red-tagged
at prices you're not gonna believe.
No wonder they call me daffy!
Look here! Two, three...
I made a mistake on that.
Maybe we can go
back and do this again.
Cut.
Sorry, Eli, I'm
kind of distracted.
Yeah. Tell me. How
about we take a break?
Daffy Dave's is currently having
a two-for-one videotape sale.
Dave! One more phone
call from our suppliers,
and I'm gonna scream. You've
got to sign these checks...
Lillian, not now, huh?
Ramon, who you gonna sell back
here, me? Up front, muy pronto!
Yes, sir, Mr. Dave.
How about some good news for a
change? Like some bucks coming in!
What's the problem this time?
You're his partner, why
don't you talk to him?
Well, what am I gonna say?
Some dame writes a book and
ruins his life, he should forget about it?
Our life, Neil. It's
ruining our life.
Another month like the last
one, and we're out of business.
Mrs. Fletcher. Your
mystery novel, The Uncaught,
do you remember
your source material?
My source material.
Specifically relating to
the young wife's murder.
I believe in your book you
call her Rebecca Gallway.
Aaron, there was
no source material.
I mean, the entire plot,
the situation, the characters,
they all came out
of my imagination.
You're absolutely sure? Because
according to Novaro's lawyer,
The Uncaught is a
thinly disguised account
of his first wife's
murder five years ago.
Well, that's absurd!
Well, that's
only the half of it.
Novaro was charged with the
murder and was eventually exonerated.
The case against him
was dropped. Closed.
Until my book comes along,
inflicting severe mental anguish, economic
hardship, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Well, that's what
they're claiming, yes.
So what damages are they asking?
With restitution, treble damages,
the whole ball of wax, 10 million.
Well, what about our errors and
omissions insurance? Doesn't that cover us?
Only up until five million. But
that won't help Mrs. Fletcher.
Since you wrote the book, the
insurance company could turn around
and sue you for
full restitution.
In your contract with Ted, you represented
that it was your own original material.
And it was! Look, Ted,
will you stop fretting?
Not only have I never
heard of this man,
nor of the circumstances
surrounding his late wife,
in my book, the man
is guilty of the murder.
Which, unfortunately,
could work against you.
Oh, yeah. The claim of
severe mental anguish.
In the eyes of the law,
Novaro was judged innocent
and therefore entitled
to his good reputation.
Well, as far as I'm concerned,
the charges are totally capricious.
And I am not gonna allow them to stop
me from taking the first flight to Hawaii.
Mrs. Fletcher, I'm afraid
that won't be possible.
You're scheduled to give a
deposition tomorrow morning.
I see.
Well, in that case, Ted, I
would like your research staff
to dig up every iota of information
that you can about the Novaro murder.
And the quicker, the
better. I'll get right on that.
Trust me, Ted.
I write fiction. And that's
all my book is, a pure fiction.
Attention, all Daffy
Dave shoppers...
Uh-oh. Tell the wife
I'm in conference, okay?
Yes, sir.
Remember, Dave's not
crazy, he's j just a little daffy.
No, you don't, Dave.
Oh, hi, sweetheart. What
happened to the aerobics class?
I've had it, Dave. I mean,
today is the last straw.
Please, Iris, not here.
Just now, at the hairdresser's,
the manicurist is telling everyone
I am married to a murderer.
I mean, I just wanted to take her
head and stick it in the cuticle softener.
I'm sorry, honey.
And this morning,
after you left the house,
three calls from tabloids wanting
articles on "I married a killer."
Three phone calls, Dave!
Okay, okay.
No, it is not okay!
Dave, ever since that
book came out, it's like...
It's like I don't exist anymore.
I mean, you're never home.
We never talk. You haven't
touched me in months.
It's like I'm married
to a zombie!
Iris!
It is just like five years
ago, and I have had it!
Can we talk about this later?
Dave, there is no later.
I'm seeing a lawyer.
No, now, come on. I know
I've been a little crazy lately
trying to hold the
business together.
But I swear, honey, we're gonna
walk away from this lawsuit with millions.
And then it's just
you and me, babe.
I swear, I'll make
it all up to you.
We'll travel, maybe buy
that house in the mountains.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
It's always "maybe" with you.
So, at least think it over,
okay? I mean, divorce. Iris.
It's not like returning
a dress to Bergdorf's.
We're talking a lifetime
here. Commitment.
I love you, Iris.
I need you. Now more than ever.
Well, it's not like I'm gonna
change my mind or anything.
Hey. That's all a
guy has to hear.
Hello, Iris.
Oh, hi, Neil.
You okay?
Well, I couldn't
help but overhear.
You know, if you need
someone to talk to...
Oh, Neil, that's
sweet of you. Thanks.
But this is between Dave and me.
Just remember I'm here
for you. Just like the old days.
You don't give up, do you, Neil?
Well? You tell him?
I tried to.
I thought he was
gonna go ballistic on me,
so I promised
him I'd think it over.
Oh, Randy, don't be like that.
He is going through
hell right now.
So I'll tell him
about us next week.
I gotta tell you,
Iris, I'm worried.
Why? Oh, honey,
we're gonna do this.
I'm talking about time and
timing. Not for me, for you.
And Videorama's dying.
And every day you wait
is gonna cost you money.
You know, if I thought for one
minute that this "us" was about money...
Look, I'm gonna pretend
you didn't just say that.
No, honey, I'm sorry.
If you still love this
guy, please, just say so.
Come on, you
know that isn't true.
Look, all I'm saying
is, if you love someone
who gave a bum like Novaro
the best years of her life,
you want that person to
get what she's entitled to.
No matter what it is. Right?
Local TV huckster
Daffy Dave Novaro
has brought a $10 million
defamation of character lawsuit
against famed mystery writer
J.B. Fletcher and her publisher.
Seen here five years
ago at the time of his arrest
for the murder of his wife,
Janet Novaro. Artie Gelber?
Accompanied by his lawyer,
Novaro had this to say earlier today.
Sure, I'm gonna
sue. Wouldn't you?
I mean, I thought I went through
the ultimate pain five years ago
when someone murdered Janet.
Well, this book has
brought it all back in spades!
Hello? RICHIE:
Hello, Mrs. Fletcher,
a Mr. Trent is here to see you.
Thank you, Richie. Have
him come right up, please.
I just wanted to thank you for proving
to the world what I always knew.
Jury or no jury, Dave Novaro
murdered my daughter.
Mr. Trent, I can
appreciate how you feel,
but there is no
connection whatsoever
between my book and
Janet Novaro's tragic death.
That's impossible.
But the truth is, I
agreed to see you
because I hoped that you could
spread some light on the discrepancies
which will help
to prove my point.
But it's all there. Even their
most intimate marital problems.
You mean, she had an affair?
Almost. She came
this close. She told me.
But Janet wasn't
that kind of woman.
Despite the fact that like
the couple in your novel,
Novaro was so obsessed with his
business, he didn't have time for her.
Divorce was inevitable.
But that's not the
case in my book.
Mrs. Fletcher, you're splitting
hairs. I'll give you the only difference.
David Novaro murdered
not once, but twice.
Twice?
My wife, Mrs. Fletcher. Janet's mother.
She never recovered from the grief.
She died six months
after Janet was murdered.
I'm sorry.
So, if I can be of help, perhaps
by testifying on your behalf?
Anything. Let me know.
Anything to see that snake squirm.
Well, thank you, Mr. Trent.
It's quite clear that we
have vastly different motives.
And while I can understand how you
feel, I have no wish to hurt Mr. Novaro.
I only want to prove to him and to you
that you are mistaken about my book.
You do what you have to do,
and I'll do what I have to do.
It was routine stuff. Pretty
much like in your book.
He and his wife get separated.
She goes and has the
locks changed. Thank you.
He's smart. His garage
door opener still works,
but instead, Novaro
breaks through a window,
bludgeons his wife to death,
and steals a bunch of jewelry to
make it look like it was a burglary.
Novaro.
Okay, so he beat the rap.
As far as I'm concerned, the
guy's guilty as hell. Excuse me.
You're sure?
Trust me. Jessica, the
guy'd be rotting in prison
if it wasn't for one key piece
of evidence falling apart on us.
Which was?
Faulty lab report
of Novaro's DNA.
DNA?
Taken from a particle of skin
found under the wife's fingernails.
Just like in your book.
You know, it's amazing.
I was in Cabot Cove when I wrote
The Uncaught. I never heard of the case.
But one after another, the
similarities just keep piling up.
Come on, Jessica, this is Artie.
You didn't see a New York
paper? It got a lot of ink.
Look, Artie, I'm positive.
Yeah? So, how come in here you even
got the husband ditching the wife's car
in a reservoir to make it look like
an intruder used it for a getaway?
You mean that's what
actually happened?
The Croton Reservoir.
They fished it out a
couple of days later.
But there are
differences, aren't there?
Well, oh, sure.
Couple of minor things.
The weapon, the time of
day, the number of kids.
Oh, yeah, your guy stole some...
Your guy stole some rare stamps
to make it look like a robbery,
instead of the jewelry.
And, oh, of course,
your killer used the garage
door opener to get in.
Anything else?
Yeah. I'm trying
to get rid of my car.
Eight years old. Low
mileage. Mint condition.
Driven by a little old police
lieutenant from Queens
who spends more money on
parking than he does for rent.
Well, I'll keep my ears open.
That isn't quite
what I had in mind.
I was hoping that you
could help me write an ad.
You know, a grabber.
Fresh, but not too different.
Novaro?
His daughter.
Real piece of work herself, if our
phone conversations are any indication.
You know, I can't remember the
last time I had to give a deposition.
Don't worry. You're
gonna be just fine.
Hey, doesn't counsel
rate a goodbye hug?
I don't know what I'd do
without you, sweetheart.
Oh, I'll be right with you,
Mr. Woodman. Mrs. Fletcher.
You! Daddy.
Lady, you've ruined my life.
I got nothing left. My business,
my marriage, my health, gone!
Down the tubes,
all thanks to you!
Mr. Novaro, please, you should
not be speaking to my client.
Oh, that's right. I forgot.
We gotta keep it civilized.
She can call me a wife killer, but we
gotta protect your client at all costs.
Mr. Novaro, have you
read The Uncaught?
What for? To aggravate
myself all over again?
Thanks, but no, thanks.
Well, perhaps you should read it
before disrupting both of our lives.
Look, I'm sorry for any discomfort
that you may have experienced.
But my book is not what
you or your advisers think.
Right. And I'm Jo-Jo the
Dog-Faced Boy. All right, Daddy,
I'll handle this, I
promise. Go, now.
Okay. But I'll get
even. All right.
So help me, Fletcher,
you're gonna pay.
Now, Mrs. Fletcher, about
the murderer's motive.
In my book, the
motive is twofold.
Misguided love turned
to hatred. And money.
As it is with any number of mystery
novels since the genre was invented.
We're taking a deposition, Mrs.
Fletcher, not writing an editorial.
That cuts both ways, Counselor.
One last question.
Do you recall the value you
placed on the block of rare stamps?
The so-called inverted
block of 1924 US airmails
the husband in your book planned
to convert into cash after the murder?
Yes. It was $250,000.
$250,000.
Exactly the appraised value
of the diamond necklace
that was stolen while
my mother lay dead.
While the victim lay dead.
Correction noted.
As is the fact that both the
appraisal of the victim's necklace
and the summary of
Mr. Novaro's financial problems
were made public
knowledge during his trial.
Thank you, both.
We'll be in touch.
Excuse me, Ms. Novaro.
I presume this is your mother?
Mmm-hmm.
And this would be the
necklace that was stolen?
A few pieces were recovered when they found
my mother's car, but not the necklace.
If you'll excuse me,
I have work to do.
I mean, it's absolutely
uncanny, Ted.
I mean, the similarities between
my book and the Novaro affair
far outweigh the differences.
I hate to admit it. It
doesn't look good.
Well, well, well. I
thought that was you.
I beg your pardon?
Iris. Mrs. Iris Novaro.
Now, surely that
name rings a bell.
Young lady, please.
You and your lousy book.
You know, you
wrecked my marriage.
Oh, Mrs. Novaro,
please, sit down.
With you? You gotta be kidding.
I ought to be suing you, too,
the way you made me look!
I beg your pardon?
Oh, yeah, I was Dave's
secretary before we were married.
But I was not a bimbo
the way you had it.
And we were not fooling around.
Marcel.
The past was over and done
with until your book came along.
Madam, please. If you continue,
I will have to ask you to leave.
I hope Dave takes
you to the cleaners.
Now, don't take it
to heart, Jessica.
The woman's obviously disturbed.
Well, that makes two of us.
I can't believe the number of
lives I seem to have disrupted.
I just hate seeing you being
battered from pillar to post like this.
Think.
Now, you yourself say there's enough
damning evidence to convince a jury.
Not to mention the astronomical
legal costs if we go to trial.
Ted, what are you saying?
I'm suggesting that you give some serious
thought to an out-of-court settlement.
No. I can't.
Now, don't reject
it out of hand, Jess.
Look, Collins was right.
Because of all the publicity, The
Uncaught is selling like wildfire.
We lose, but we win.
Ted, you are completely
missing my point.
A settlement would be an admission
that I had stolen Dave Novaro's story.
That I had purposely
smeared him. And I didn't.
And somehow, I
am going to prove it.
Hey, Woodman!
Couldn't get a cab, huh?
Oh, that's cute. Let me
guess. You drive a Porsche.
I did. Traded it
in for a Beemer.
Oh, well, that figures. Well,
Mr. Beemer, this is for you.
It's a court order barring further
sales and promotion of The Uncaught.
Have a nice day.
Hey. Hey, wait a minute.
I can't. I'm low on air.
Dave.
I thought you were
thinking it over.
Dave, not here.
Moving out of the house,
that's thinking it over?
That's not a house,
it's a morgue.
I just... I need some space.
I need a place to breathe.
Okay. But I still
got a chance, right?
Oh, Dave, I don't know.
You forgot to take Freddie.
Dave.
I won him for you at Coney Island,
remember? Right next to Nathan's.
Yeah, look. He's still got
his mustard stains, too.
Yeah. And the
trial, five years ago,
our signal meaning "I love you."
I know everyone
thought I had an allergy.
That kept me going, doll.
You being there for me.
Don't worry. I gotta
take off now, but...
As long as I still have a
chance, that's all I ask.
How could you, Rachel? How
could you represent that monster?
Grandpa, he's my
father. I love him.
He also murdered your
mother. Or don't you remember?
Oh, I remember. And
I wish you would, too.
A jury decided he was innocent.
Wrong. All that jury decided was that
the prosecution failed to prove its case.
God, I'll never forget
the night I called her
to tell her I was accepted
at NYU Law School.
She was so happy, she couldn't
wait to tell Daddy. And then...
Look, Grandpa, we both know you
didn't like Daddy from the day you met him.
I accept that. But you have to
accept where I'm coming from.
You look just like your mother.
What I'm trying to say is, you've got to
put all these awful memories behind you.
For both our sakes?
She was so
beautiful. So full of life.
She'd walk into a room,
it was like the sun...
Grandpa, please.
She could've had anybody.
Anybody.
But she had to run
off and marry him.
It got you me. I
love you, Grandpa.
And I love you, honey.
But it's not right.
It's not right that your mother lies
dead in her grave and he's still alive.
Grandpa, I know I can't change your
mind, but you aren't gonna change mine.
You owe it to your mother.
What? To let that woman crucify
my father? You've got to stop this.
Why? Because he was nice to you?
Al Capone was nice to his kids!
That's not fair.
Life's not fair, Rachel.
Your father got off on a
technicality, and you know it.
Listen, Dave, I've just
gone over the books.
We need to start
cutting expenses.
Beginning with the commercials.
Neil, not now, I'm busy.
Yeah, Dave, all that production,
they're costing us a fortune, and
they're not bringing in any business.
We've gotta do them on
the cheap or forget them.
Listen, you. I call the shots
around here, and don't you forget it.
Ever since we were kids,
everything you got was thanks to me.
So, go now, huh?
Don't make me sorry I
took you along for the ride.
I finished the payroll,
Dave, and I'll lock up.
Thanks, Lillian.
Oh, by the way, we have to
go over the accounts tomorrow.
I want to know where
all this money's going.
Well, sure, Dave. Anytime.
I'm sorry it's not
working with Iris.
Funny, when we
were in high school,
the biggest crisis of our lives was who
we were going to end up with at the prom.
Remember?
I thought you'd never
ask. And then you called.
Then and there
I figured, that's it.
We're gonna get married
and have a bunch of kids.
But that's life, huh?
Hello. Who?
Dave Novaro, Mrs. Fletcher.
Listen, we gotta talk right away.
Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Novaro, but I heard
all I want to hear from you this morning.
No, you don't understand. I'm
thinking of dropping the lawsuit.
What? I took what
you said to heart.
I've been reading your book.
And thanks to you, I think I
know who murdered my wife.
But I gotta ask you a
couple of questions.
Look, I must tell
you, Mr. Novaro,
my attorney has advised me not to
talk to you under any circumstances.
Please, Mrs. Fletcher, I was a
lousy husband, but I loved my wife.
Nailing her killer means more to
me than all the money in the world.
Well, all right, Mr. Novaro.
My address is 941
West 60th, Apartment 4B.
Apartment 4B. Got it.
I'll be there in 20 minutes.
Oh, for Pete's sake!
It's kind of cold out
here tonight, Dave.
Hilda, what do you think
I am, a money machine?
Here.
Here's 10 bucks. Go get
yourself something to eat,
but this is the last time.
God bless you, Dave.
That's curious.
Operator. Operator, I've
been calling a number
that's been busy over an hour.
I wonder, could you check to see
if someone's talking on the line?
The number, please? 555-4410.
Will you pay the charges?
Yes, I'll pay the charge.
There's no one on the line.
No one on the line?
That's correct, ma'am.
Thank you very much.
Well? Drives okay.
You offering any
kind of warranty?
Henderson, what do you want
from me? The car's eight years old.
You see what kind
of great shape it's in.
Gelber.
Jessica. I thought all the
regular people were asleep.
I'm sorry to bother you,
Artie, but I'm concerned.
Something may have
happened to Dave Novaro.
How so?
Well, he was due at my
apartment over two hours ago.
Could you meet me at his store?
Why not? I only need about 10
hours of sack time a week. I'll be there.
Thanks. Bye.
About the car. Think about it.
But I gotta have an answer
by tomorrow morning.
There's a guy in Bayside
who's about ready to commit.
Okay, I'll buy it.
Henderson, believe me, you
are going to thank me for this.
Yeah, I was one of
the last to see him.
I can't believe it.
We grew up together.
I mean, we weren't just
partners, we were best friends.
Okay. Thanks.
Did Novaro say anything more specific
than, "I've been reading your book"?
Yes, he did.
He said, "Thanks to you, I think
I know who murdered my wife."
Lieutenant, it had
to be a break-in.
My computer and my
petty cash box are missing.
Huh. A break-in. What
did Yogi Berra used to say?
"Déjà" something.
"Déjà vu all over again."
Henderson, take a
statement from Mrs. Conway.
Miss Conway.
I kept the petty cash
box in that drawer...
I presume you're gonna
have every page fingerprinted.
Just curious.
Henderson!
Henderson. This goes
to forensics, ASAP.
Rachel, I'm so
sorry about your dad.
Thank you.
But if you think my father's death
is gonna put an end to the lawsuit,
you've got another thing coming.
It's true, Jessica. As
executor of her father's estate,
Ms. Novaro can continue to
pursue an ongoing legal action.
Well, it looks like this fruit punch is as
close to Hawaii as I'm ever gonna get.
About Rachel, Ms.
Novaro, was she all right?
She's having a hard time.
Hello. Artie!
Just got the lab
report on the book.
Novaro's fingerprints track up to
the first paragraph on page 247.
Two forty-seven. Any
other developments?
Yeah. Henderson loves the car.
Oh, good. Thanks again, Artie.
What's this? The door handle.
I unlocked the door, the whole
thing came off in my hand.
Amazing. I drove it eight
years. That never happened.
As legal counsel for
the Parents United,
I intend to show that the location
of a hazardous waste dump
near the Stony Lake
Elementary School
poses an immediate risk
and danger to all the children...
Yes?
Rachel, please forgive me.
I know that this is a bad time.
I'm really quite busy.
But it is important
that we talk. Please.
It could hold the key
to your mother's murder,
and quite possibly
your father's as well.
I find that hard to
believe, but do go on.
Well, your father's fingerprints
indicate that he had reached
the top of page 247 of my novel
when something he read inspired
him to pick up the phone and call me.
You're sure? Well,
unfortunately, no.
I was hoping that you might be able to
shed some light on this particular passage.
May I?
Yes, please.
Thank you.
"Alex smiled. Every
base was covered.
"Kelly, his secretary, would
order him in a sandwich
"before leaving to run a
long list of personal errands,
"giving him more than enough
time to slip out the fire exit,
"drive home, dispose of Rebecca,
"then slip back into his office to
resume the mantle of office workaholic."
Now, does any of that strike
a chord? Anything at all?
No. Nothing.
Mrs. Fletcher, I
know you mean well,
and I appreciate your interest.
But I'm really running into
a bit of a time problem here.
Of course. I understand.
Isn't that the necklace that your
mother wore in the photograph?
The one that disappeared
the day that she was...
It's a paste copy Daddy had made
when he had to pawn the
original during some hard times.
He was too proud to admit
he was down on his luck
and he knew how
much she loved it.
Did she know?
No. He never told her.
When his business turned around,
he redeemed the original
and gave me this one.
I don't know why I keep it.
Ever since what
happened to Mother,
I hate everything about
it. I pretend it's not there.
It is the contention
of the Parents United
that the health
and well-being...
The remote control.
It wasn't there.
Rachel, may I use
your phone, please?
Sure.
You're late. Out joyriding?
I miss that car already.
You didn't tell me
about the gas gauge.
What didn't I tell you?
That it's backwards. It
indicates "F" when it means "E."
Sometimes, okay, yes.
Every couple of years
or so, it goes a little
hinky for a couple
of days. No big deal.
I had to push it off the
Long Island Expressway.
I caused a traffic
backup four miles long.
And then, there's
the left-turn indicator.
I'll take care of it. Gelber.
Artie, it's Jessica.
I have an important question
to ask about Janet Novaro's car.
Sure. I'll pull the
file. My pleasure.
Thanks.
Everybody's car crazy.
Lieutenant, they
need you in forensics.
I can't get settled
down here. Come on.
Hey. How you holding up?
Okay. What's all this?
It's a surprise. I got
us out of our lease.
Randy, what are
you talking about?
Yeah. I sweet-talked the landlady. It's
only gonna cost us a couple months' rent.
But why? Where are we going?
Where are we going? Where
do you think? Your house.
Randy, are you crazy?
Look, I know how hard
it was for you to leave.
And now you can
have it all again.
I mean, I don't want
to stand in your way.
We can do barbecues on the
patio. We can go for walks...
Randy, I don't have a house!
What do you mean?
I mean Dave made me sign a prenuptial
agreement. Everything goes to Rachel.
You're kidding.
Oh, God.
Everything?
Oh, I couldn't even see
the forest for the muscles.
Iris, you're not
making any sense.
No, honey, but you finally are.
That's all this
ever was, wasn't it?
And I bought it. I was just like a little
girl on her first trip to the Big Apple.
No, that's not true. Don't
you know by now that...
Are you sure, everything?
Here. Just so it's not a
total loss, just take it all.
Iris, where the
hell are you going?
I don't know, Randy. But when I
get there, don't expect a postcard.
Excuse me, Detective Henderson.
They told me downstairs
that the Lieutenant was out,
but he said that he would dig
out Janet Novaro's file for me.
Right.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but he
didn't say anything to me about it.
I see. Well, I
wonder, would you...
Jessica. You can
forget the theories.
We've got Dave
Novaro's murderer.
And since Novaro murdered this man's
daughter, we can button that case up, too.
Artie, Norman Trent
was bitter, but murder?
Oh, Jessica, you can
bet the house on it.
Number one, we recovered
the murder weapon.
Oh, the cane. It was in a
dumpster just outside Novaro's store.
Number two, forensics says his
fingerprints are all over the joint.
Number three, he was seen coming out
of his apartment just before the murder.
And number four, unlike
the Janet Novaro murder,
we've got us an eyewitness.
She had just gotten a
handout from Novaro.
She was leaving the area
when Trent showed up.
Novaro must've forgotten to relock
the door, because Trent let himself in.
On top of which Trent
admits to being there.
Says he intended to kill him.
He confessed?
Nah, he's giving us some cock-and-bull
story about second thoughts.
And then he claims that
somebody entered the store,
he panicked, so he rushed out,
and that's when he dropped the cane.
Yes, but what puzzles me is
how could an infirm, elderly
old gentleman like Mr. Trent
overcome a younger,
much stronger man?
Much as he hated Mr. Novaro,
why would he alienate,
forever, his only granddaughter?
Come on, Jessica,
we're talking passion here.
Blind rage that
finally boiled over.
Still, I'd like to see the
photographs of Janet Novaro's car.
Why not?
Thank you.
Gelber.
Just now?
All the shocks? Okay,
Henderson, okay. I'll pay for them.
Artie, you said that even though
all the locks had been changed,
Dave Novaro had a garage
door opener in his possession?
Yeah. It still worked. Janet
Novaro never changed the code.
Well, then his wife must
have had a door opener, too.
Look. You can see the impression
where it was clipped
to the sun visor.
So?
Well, where is it?
Well, it should be
in the inventory.
Well, it isn't there, is it?
Huh. Well, it wasn't submitted into
evidence. What does that prove?
Well, if I'm not mistaken, that Norman
Trent is innocent. And so is Dave Novaro.
Now, why don't you
call his daughter?
And I wonder if I could trouble you
for a classified telephone directory?
Thank you.
Like Dave Novaro, we place
ourselves in God's hands.
Asking not why such a good and
decent man was taken from us so young,
but how we can better
understand that it was God's will.
And now, let us join
together in silent prayer.
Iris. Go away!
Rachel, I'm really
sorry about your father.
Thank you.
And now the words that
echo through all of time.
Earth to earth, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust.
May his smile shine
upon us all, unto eternity.
In the name of the Father, the Son
and the Holy Spirit. We pray. Amen.
Amen.
How did it go?
I think we'll know in a few
minutes if we follow that limousine.
You can relax, Iris. That's
the real one, all right.
Rachel was wearing this paste
copy you never knew existed.
You're under arrest, Mrs. Novaro, for the
murder of your husband and Janet Novaro.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.
You know, you people
are out of your minds.
I didn't murder anyone.
Oh, but you did.
You murdered Janet
Novaro out of jealousy
after learning that she and
David planned to reconcile.
Then you stole this necklace
to make it look like a robbery.
Beautiful, indeed.
Not to mention worth
a cool 250 grand.
Comes the rainy day when things
between you and Novaro don't pan out.
No way. Dave killed her.
For the insurance
and the necklace.
And then asked
me to hide it for him.
Nice try, Iris.
Quite an irony.
A passage from my book, which
I've been defending as pure fiction,
is what tipped off Mr. Novaro that it
was you who murdered his first wife.
And tipped me off as well.
I don't know what the
hell you're talking about.
"Kelly, his secretary, would
order him in a sandwich
"before leaving to run a
long list of personal errands,
"giving him more than enough
time to slip out the fire exit,
"drive home,
dispose of Rebecca."
And what does that
have to do with me?
Everything, lady, since you were Novaro's
secretary at the time of his wife's murder.
Your husband read that
and suddenly remembered
he'd given his wife's garage
opener to his secretary
to have it repaired, several
weeks before her death.
He gave it to you, Iris.
And when I confirmed that Janet
Novaro's garage opener was never located,
I realized it had to be you who used
your lunch hour to pick up the opener,
slip into the house through
the garage and kill her.
There's no way
you can prove that.
I believe we can.
I tracked down the repair shop.
It was just up the
street from Daffy Dave's.
We also got the receipt that you picked
up and signed the day of the murder.
And we checked your
gasoline credit card receipts.
You filled up a mile from the
house within minutes of the murder.
You know, this is one
thing I didn't figure on.
Dave never stopped loving Janet.
I think that's what ticked
me off so much that night
when I stopped by the store to tell
him I didn't want a divorce after all.
Someone was just
running out of the store.
That would've been Norman Trent.
According to his statement,
he went there to avenge his daughter
but was having second thoughts.
Well, he was in such a hurry
to get out, he dropped his cane.
That was Dave's misfortune.
He stormed out of his office,
saying he had read your book
and it reminded him of how he had given
me the damn garage opener to get fixed,
and that was the way I
got back into the house.
And the fact is,
it was all true.
It made me angry. I forgot why I was
there because he was gonna call the police.
That's when I hit
him with the cane.
Dave.
I cleaned my prints off it and threw
it in the dumpster down the street.
After all these years, no
way was I gonna go to jail.
You wanna bet?
Weird. In a way, your novel turned
out to be right on the money after all.
In a lucky way.
Incidentally, if you hear of anybody
who wants to buy my car, give me a jingle.
I thought you'd sold it
to Detective Henderson.
I did.
Unfortunately, some people are just not cut
out to own an automobile with character.
Hey, Jessica. We wanted to
catch you before you left for Hawaii.
And make it official that
I've dropped the lawsuit.
Well, thank goodness!
And, Jessica, guess who's
opening up a law practice together?
Not you two?
Well, that's wonderful.
Congratulations.
Down on the Lower East Side, where
people really need representation.
I thought we agreed on Midtown.
Near my corporate accounts.
Aaron, a general
practice means everybody.
Look, Aaron, Rachel, when
you make up your minds,
please send me an
announcement to Maui.