Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 11, Episode 2 - Amsterdam Kill - full transcript

Philip's in diamonds. Oh.

In a modest way.

The damned thing was paste.

I want to know when the transaction
is scheduled for and where.

If you're one minute
late, he's a dead man.

Then it is a kidnapping.

Now, really, Mrs. Fletcher,

I'm afraid your author's
imagination is running away with you.

If I would have got my hands on
that cash, I would've been long gone.

What a brilliant
man. And charming.

Yes, it's happening.
When can you get here?



Well, hello again,
Mrs. Fletcher.

We kidnap interesting people.

I'm a lover, not a killer.

Colin, the game has changed.
People are getting killed.

Hello? Inspector Van Horn here.

It's me. I've got a line on the
merchandise you're looking for.

It's about time.

Not so fast. I need assurances
and I need more money.

Damn it, Kuyper, I've gone out
beyond the edge on this already.

You don't quite understand.

This is much bigger than we
thought. There's more risk involved.

Kuyper, I don't like
to be shaken down.

I want to know when the transaction
is scheduled for and where.

That's what I'm paying you for.



No. No! No!

Kuyper?

Kuyper!

Jessica.

Hello, Nigel.

You're here at last.

Mmm. Indeed.

Have a smooth flight over?

Oh, marvelous.

You know, I remember opening
a book as we took off from JFK.

Next thing I knew, we were
landing, and I had slept all the way.

Hope it wasn't one of my books.

Oh! Oh, how beautiful.

Brought them with me from home,

they bloomed early this year.

Oh, from your lovely
Sussex garden.

How are things at home?

Actually, I haven't been
around there much lately.

Been off tracking
research on a new project.

Mmm, I'll be interested
to hear about that.

And so you shall, but first
we must get you registered.

Passport, please, Mrs.
Fletcher. Oh, yes, of course.

I made Mr. Burger promise
you one of his very best rooms.

Overlooking the canal, on the...

Look here. I asked
for a wake-up call...

If you could just wait one
moment, Mr. De Kooning.

He's right, Philip.

Ah, Nigel. Forgive me.

And of course, you
must be Mrs. Fletcher.

Nigel has spoken about you so
often, I feel as if we're old friends.

That's a lovely pin.

Oh, thank you. I found
it last year in Texas.

Philip's in diamonds.

In a modest way.
But look, both of you,

you must allow me to
help celebrate your arrival

and to compensate
for my rudeness.

You've never been to
South Africa, Mrs. Fletcher?

No.

Well, you must come.
It's a beautiful place.

Watch out, Jessica,
that's how it begins.

I met Philip and his wife
at the races in Deauville,

and next thing I knew I was
their house guest in Johannesburg.

We kidnap interesting people.

But tell me, how
did you two meet?

Or do all famous
authors know each other?

Ah...

Excuse me.

Sorry to interrupt, sir, but
we have a small problem.

There are no small
problems with airplanes.

Nick Halsey, say hello to
Mrs. Fletcher and Nigel Allison.

Hello.

Uh, one of the compressors
needs replacing.

Now, they're going to
express ship one out tonight.

We should have it
tomorrow morning the latest,

and they'll fit it ASAP.

If you'll excuse us, Philip,

I have an appointment call
coming through in my room.

Plus, I took the liberty of
scheduling Jessica to appear with me

on a conference panel
that starts in 10 minutes.

With Nigel making
the arrangements,

I can count on
plenty of R and R.

Nice meeting you, gentlemen.

Thank you so much.

It was my pleasure.

Nigel.

Well, I'm certainly
looking forward

to hearing all about this
new novel you're working on.

Well, it's something
of a thriller.

It starts in San Francisco.
Lots of twists and turns.

Actually, that's why
I'm in Amsterdam,

to fill in the last
vital bits of the story.

Well, it sounds like a
typical Nigel Allison novel

full of devilish convolutions.

Well, actually, it's right
up your alley, Jessica.

We must have a good
old brainstorming session.

Oh, wait a moment. I can't
let these just stand in a vase.

Here, let me put this one here.

Oh, makes me look
like a boulevardier.

There you go.

Look, I'm just down
the hall in 1420.

Why don't I just take my
call and meet you downstairs?

Good. It'll give
me time to change.

Ah-ha. See you a little later.

Yeah.

Yes? MAN: Is it happening?

Yes, it's happening.
When can you get here?

Uh-huh. Yes, I think
that would be the best.

Yes, who is it?

Room service.

I think the sooner we arrange
for the lid to close on the affair,

so much the better
for all concerned.

Uh-huh. Yes. Ciao.

I think you must have the wrong
room. I didn't order anything.

Lydia, all I'm asking is that you
restrict your spending for a few days.

While you continue to pour
money into that damned airplane?

My airplane happens to be...
- Philip!

Philip!

I'm so glad I
caught up with you.

Listen, you have a moment?

Anything for you, Harry.

Lydia, you do know
Mr. Tigner, now, don't you?

Of course.

I'll be running along. I've
got window-shopping to do.

That's what I want to
talk to you about, money.

Philip, we've been doing business
together for a long time now, but...

All right, Harry,
what's troubling you?

Your diamonds.
Word's out they're hot.

This time I need
payment in cash.

What are you trying to pull?

Nothing. I swear, nothing.
My people are calling the shots.

Look, it's cash or no deal.

And I can't extend the deadline.

We still have to close tomorrow.

Where the hell am I going
to find a cash customer

for half a million in
diamonds within 24 hours?

Look, all I know is that I'm
sitting on top of a warehouse

full of illegal arms, and the
cops are one step behind me.

I've already resold
those weapons.

If I don't deliver, I
could end up dead.

Hey, Philip, we all
have our problems.

It's noon tomorrow or forget it.

Harry.

Such an honor to have you
join our panel, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, thank you.
Is Mr. Allison here?

Oh, he won't be with us. I was
just on the phone to his secretary,

and she said
he's been taken ill.

But, here, let me pin
on your microphone,

I don't want our audience
to miss a word you say.

But I was just with
Nigel, and he was fine.

Oh, not to worry. Just a touch
of food poisoning or something.

He's resting in his room now.

Oh.

Marvelous craftsmanship.

Yes, I absolutely
adore it, of course.

But can I speak in confidence?

Oh, well, we pride
ourselves on our discretion.

What I'd really like to know is

could you make an exact
copy of this necklace?

And how much could you sell the
original for on the current market?

Surely Madame
knows this is a copy.

Albeit a superb one, but only
worth a few thousand dollars.

Perhaps Madame has
confused this piece with another.

Oh.

Yes, of course.
How forgetful of me.

I'm very sorry to have
wasted your time, Herr Kronin.

Not at all. Good day, Madame.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Ladies and gentlemen, we will
resume the conference after lunch.

Monika Vidal, Mrs.
Fletcher. Amsterdam News.

I thought the point you made about how
the new International Trade Agreement

will impact on existing copyright
laws was very interesting.

Well, I think it's a ripple that will be
felt throughout the publishing world.

I'd like to follow up on that.

Would an interview be possible?

Oh, certainly, but not
right now. Perhaps later.

I'll call you. Thank you.

Operator. Yes, Operator.

Would you connect me with
Mr. Allison's room, please?

I'm sorry, he's checked out.

What?

Mr. Allison has checked out.

Are you sure?

Yes, he checked out today.

Thank you.

No, there's no record of him
contacting the house doctor.

He just simply checked out.

Without leaving a
message for me?

I wish I could be more
helpful, Mrs. Fletcher.

All I can tell you for
sure is the time, 12:02.

Mr. Burger, how is it that you
can be so precise about the time?

Well, because Mr. Allison used
our express checkout service.

You know, on the
television set in his room?

Oh. So you never actually
saw him leaving the hotel?

I'm afraid not.

Your work is very good.

For a policeman.
You're very kind.

Now, you say Nigel
Allison's secretary

mentioned a medical
problem of some sort

when she canceled his
speaking appearance?

Ja? Uh-huh. Mmm.

Inspector, Nigel
Allison has no secretary.

He was traveling alone. I've
also checked the local hospitals.

They haven't seen him.

Perhaps he has
gone back to England.

Well, none of the airlines have any
record of him booking a flight out today.

You've been quite
busy, Mrs. Fletcher.

Excuse me.

These mug shots...

Isn't this a photo of the man that
was in the newspaper this morning?

Yes, Hendrik Kuyper.
A police informant.

A victim of a
hit-and-run driver.

So, what conclusion do
you draw from all this?

Well, the conclusion that I draw

is that something very
strange is going on,

and I'm afraid
something very bad.

Nigel's friend, Mr. De
Kooning, agrees with me...

Excuse me. Did
you say De Kooning?

Yes.

Would that be Philip De Kooning?

Yes. Is that important?

No. Not really.

You see, Nigel and I had made
arrangements to meet here.

Now, it's not like him to
just vanish without telling me.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher,
there's nothing I can do.

My workload is
substantial already.

Besides, it's much too soon
to file a missing persons claim.

And, besides,
you're much too busy.

I understand, Inspector.

And thank you for sharing
your very valuable time.

Mrs. De Kooning.
Having a nice day?

Yes, just fine, Nick, thank you.

Mind if I join you? Oh, please.

Well?

The damned thing was paste.

Nearly worthless,
like my marriage.

I'll bet Philip has sold off all my
real jewelry without telling me.

He just did it to you before
you could do it to him.

You think that's funny?

Baby, I know
you're disappointed.

I just thought I'd finally found a
way for us to get away from him.

There'll be another
way. Just hang in there.

Nicky, what's the matter?

I tell you that we have
lost our ticket to paradise,

and you're giving me
fortune-cookie philosophy.

Or maybe you have
a better game going.

Hey, you know better than that.

Then help me. Help us.

I mean, if Philip were
out of the picture...

Now, don't start that again,
Lydia, because I'm not gonna do it.

I'm a lover, not a killer.

And lately you haven't been
much good at that, either.

Mr. Burger, you still haven't
heard from Mr. Allison?

No, I'm sorry.

I can't understand it.

Excuse me, would
that be Nigel Allison?

Why, yes. Have you seen him?

I just ran into
him at the airport.

I was getting off a
shuttle flight from London.

He was waiting to board.

I'm Colin Biddle. You're
Jessica Fletcher, of course.

Yes.

Here for the conference,
too, I assume?

Are you sure that it
was Nigel you saw?

I spoke with him.
I'm a publisher's rep.

Nigel's house is
one of our clients.

Was Nigel all right?

He left here so abruptly
and didn't tell anyone why.

He did mention some sort
of minor family emergency.

Otherwise, he
seemed perfectly fine.

I may be speaking
with him later.

Can I give him a
message from you?

Well, yes, would you
please ask him to call me?

Of course, Mrs.
Fletcher. Thank you.

We're all done with your
passport, Mrs. Fletcher.

And, Mr. Biddle,
here's your key.

And this message we
were holding for your arrival.

So nice to have met
you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank you.

Would you have my bags taken
upstairs, please? I have an appointment.

Mr. Burger, did you return
Mr. Allison's passport to him?

I assume we did.
Wait, let me check.

Nope, still here. I
guess he didn't pick it up.

This is Biddle.

I've been more

than patient, yet you
keep putting me off.

We have a deal.
What is going on?

Where is it?

Not so fast.

If the goods are damaged
more than slightly, we won't buy.

Now, put him on the phone.

What?

Allison, is that you? It's
Biddle. Are you all right?

Colin. Yes, I'm all right.

Look, just, just tell
these people to...

to go stuff it!

Satisfied?

The money's on its way.
It'll be here early tonight.

Why didn't you
bring it with you?

Because gathering two million
pounds sterling in used bills

isn't the sort of thing one
can pull off in 20 minutes.

Now, where can I reach you?

I'll contact you.

Mr. Biddle.

If that is your real name.

We have to talk about how it
is that you saw Nigel Allison

board a plane for London
without his passport.

The globe-trotting novelist

who always turns up when things
get hot on the international scene.

Of course, I should
have guessed long ago.

Guessed what?

Well, it's the perfect cover, just as
it was once for Somerset Maugham.

Nigel Allison is a British
intelligence agent, isn't he?

And so are you.

Now, really, Mrs. Fletcher,

I'm afraid your author's
imagination is running away with you.

I'm a publisher's...

A publisher's
representative, I know.

I phoned Nigel's publishing
house a few minutes ago.

They'd never heard of you.

Please, tell me what's
happened to Nigel.

Now, look, Mrs. Fletcher,
for the sake of argument,

let's say you've got
it just about right.

What you're missing is, if
you don't go back to your room

and stop asking
questions, he'll be dead.

Then it is a kidnapping.

I'm here to negotiate the ransom
exchange with the terrorists,

who've assured me if a
single word of this leaks out,

they'll kill him immediately.

Well, I've already
talked to the police.

I was afraid you might do something
of the sort. What did they say?

It was an Inspector Van Horn. He
seemed to think that I was an alarmist.

Well, let's hope he
continues to feel that way.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher, I've
got a great deal of work to do.

I'm sorry I lied to you earlier
on. Now you know why I had to.

I can imagine how you feel.

I've handled situations
like this before successfully.

Any luck, we'll have Nigel
released in a few hours.

If there's any way
that I can help...

Yeah, there is. Just
do nothing, please.

Excuse me. I wonder if you
could help me. I'm Mrs. Allison.

We've just checked out of
room 1420 a little while ago.

Have you made up the room yet?

No. No, not yet.

Oh, thank heavens.
My wedding ring.

I think I must have left
it on the bathroom sink.

I really shouldn't take it off.

My husband will be
furious if I've lost it.

Would you be kind enough to
let me go inside and have a look?

Of course. Good.

Thank you so much.

I hope you find it.

Well, hello again,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Do you have a license
to carry hairspray?

Well, these days, one
can never be too sure.

Isn't it baffling,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Why do the pictures on the walls of
hotel rooms all look the same? Boring.

A wasted opportunity
to spread beauty.

That's an artist's
view of things.

But, as a policeman, I assume
you came looking for clues

to the whereabouts of
your friend, Mr. Allison.

Did you find
anything interesting?

Well, I've only
been here a minute.

Inspector, you told me that
there was nothing to investigate.

I changed my mind.

Doesn't that please you?

Oh, of course it does.

Although, Mr. Allison will probably
just turn up anyway in a few hours.

I hope so.

Sometimes unpleasant
things happen to people

who are friendly with
Philip De Kooning.

Yes, I noticed your
reaction to his name earlier.

The man is notorious.

We believe him to
be a major broker

in illegal jewels
and military arms.

In fact, he may have
had a connection

with the hit-and-run
killing of Hendrik Kuyper.

Murder?

At the time of
Mr. Kuyper's death

he was working for me, tracking
the movements of Mr. De Kooning.

I'll have to tell Nigel
when I see him.

Yes, you do that.

In the meantime,

are you certain there is
nothing you wish to tell me?

No, there isn't.

I see.

Well, I'll be sure to let
you know what I discover.

Thank you.

Uh-huh.

You're sure you'll
have it by then?

Great. Thanks.

Okay.

They'll have the new compressor
installed by noon tomorrow.

We can fly any time after that.

Splendid. And the repair cost?

About 5,000. Yeah, 5,500.

They want cash.

All my problems
should be that small.

Tell me, Nick,

you wouldn't happen
to have 500,000

jingling around those
jeans, now, would you?

That's a little
out of my league.

Well, be glad it is. The ups are
magnificent, but the downs could kill you.

Philip.

Pour yourself a drink.
Be back in a moment.

Fasten these, will you?

Remember when you
gave me these, darling?

Istanbul.

Exquisite, aren't they?

Mmm. Like all my jewelry.

But, then, you treat me so well.

Nothing you don't
deserve, darling.

Omar Hakeem, of course.

What?

Hakeem. Istanbul.

Maybe he can
advance me the money.

Yeah, I just got the word.

The plane is ready
and waiting right now.

Yeah, as soon as we get our hands
on the money, we're out of here.

Two million pounds richer.

Philip?

Yeah. Just give me the signal.

Okay.

Sorry to keep you waiting, Nick.

Why don't you run
along, have a good time?

I don't want to burden
you with my problems.

Well, I hope you work them out.

Oh, I will. I definitely will.

Operator.

Hello, Operator?

I was on the phone a
moment ago, and I was cut off.

Ja. Could you
ring the party back?

Gladly. I misplaced the number.

I'm sorry. I have no record
of a room service order

being delivered on the
14th floor at that time.

Could someone come by and
just borrow one of your carts?

I suppose they could. Excuse me.

It's a tranquilizer dart. The sort
they used on animals in the zoo.

Nigel was knocked out and
wheeled off in that room service cart.

I've asked them to put it aside

in case there are fingerprints.

Couldn't resist, could you?

I asked you to stay
out of it, I begged you,

but no, here you are again.

Mr. Biddle, aren't you interested
in apprehending these people

to prevent them from
doing this sort of thing again?

Of course I am. But
my first priority is...

Is to get Nigel released.
I know that, but...

Biddle here. It's Finley.

Finley.

In regard to the ransom.

Where the hell is the money?

We're having trouble. What?

We just now got
it. Damn it, man,

we are already two hours
behind their schedule.

We're going to lose Nigel, all because
your people are dragging their bloody feet.

Listen, we're doing our
best. It's a lot of money.

Try and stall them
as long as you can.

What?

We need more time.

I'll do my best.

Whitehall bureaucrats.

Well, they finally managed to
get the ransom money together.

This could be them.

This is Biddle.

Do you have the money?

There's been a slight delay.

I warned you!

Now, wait. Don't hang up.

It's the weather. Amsterdam
Airport's fogged in.

Won't allow any
planes in till morning.

If you are lying...

Look, it's just a
few hours more.

You'll have the money
by noon at the latest.

Can I say hello to Allison now?

This is Nigel Allison.

This is my final warning.

If you're one minute
late, he's a dead man.

Excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, hello, Miss Vidal.

I tried to call you.

I hate to be a bother. But when I
told my editor about seeing you...

He's one of your fans.

And I just thought, wouldn't
it be an incredible thing

if I could say I interviewed Jessica
Fletcher and Nigel Allison in the same day?

When did you
talk to Mr. Allison?

At breakfast. What a
brilliant man. And charming.

Just the way a world-famous
author should be,

with a suntan, and a carnation in
his lapel and that twinkle in his eye.

Oh, that's Nigel, all right.

Anyway, let's talk
about you, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm sorry to put you
off again, Miss Vidal,

but I'm afraid I can't just now.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. This letter
was left for you at the desk.

Oh. Thank you, Mr. Burger.

Mr. De Kooning.

Mr. De Kooning?

You may look, Mrs. Fletcher.

Of course, it's a
work in progress.

Sometimes, sketching an individual's
likeness helps me to understand them.

Very interesting so far.

Like yourself.

You... You puzzle
me, Mrs. Fletcher.

You seem so basically
honest, and yet often so elusive.

We shall see how you turn out.

Inspector, there's a gentleman
who says he must see Mrs. Fletcher.

Are you all right,
Jessica? Colin!

I'm Colin Biddle, Inspector,

associated with Mrs. Fletcher's
publishing firm in Britain.

Ah, yes, of course.

Mrs. Fletcher and I
were just about to discuss

the note she received
from Mr. De Kooning.

It was regarding
Mr. Allison's whereabouts.

Jessica...

Colin, the game has changed.
People are getting killed.

I think you should seek legal advice
before discussing anything further.

She's not being
charged, Mr. Biddle.

Only asked to provide facts that
might facilitate my investigation.

And I should like
to tell you both,

I'm not happy to have British
Intelligence or anyone else

play games in my territory
without informing me.

You'll have to excuse me.

Inspector, can Mrs.
Fletcher leave now?

Ja, of course.

But I shall need to
ask for your passports.

I want to have further
conversations with you both.

You told him! I can't
believe you did that.

I didn't, Colin. But
the man is not stupid.

I'm sorry, Jessica. This whole
affair has driven me a little crazy.

Well, have you heard
from the kidnappers?

I mean, is Nigel
still... So far, so far.

I spoke with him
briefly an hour ago.

And the ransom?
Well, the fog's lifted.

The plane should be touching down
any moment. We're almost there.

Mr. Burger, I am not responsible
for my husband's finances.

He misrepresented
them to me, too.

The only reason I'm staying
on in Amsterdam at all

is because the police have
apparently not finished questioning me.

Now, am I supposed to
sleep out on the street?

Please, please.

We're happy to provide you with
another room, with our compliments.

And then as soon as the police
allow us back into your former suite,

then we'll move
your bags for you.

Thank you.

Ah, pardon me, Mrs. De Kooning?

I'm... I know who you are.

Nigel Allison's
rattled on about you

at great, boring length
on several continents.

Well, it's Nigel that I
need to talk to you about.

Mrs. De Kooning,
would you have any idea

what it was that your
husband learned about

Mr. Allison's whereabouts
or his situation

that he might have
been about to tell me?

Mrs. Fletcher, if I had a dollar for
every time Philip confided in me,

I could maybe buy
you a cup of coffee.

Hell, he's been dead for, what, 12
hours now, and he's still lying to me.

I'm afraid I don't understand.

I just called the airport to find out
what time the plane would be repaired.

And they said, "Didn't
Mr. Halsey tell you?

"It's been ready since
yesterday morning."

And they said Nick
had ordered the plane

gassed for takeoff
shortly after noon today.

By noon?

By noon.

What?

Thank you, Mrs. De Kooning.

Operator.

Yes. Could you please connect
me with the Amsterdam News?

You've had a good run,
Harry. You and De Kooning.

He'd fly in diamonds
from South Africa,

you'd be waiting with a
shipment of illegal weapons,

he'd fly out the weapons to the
Middle East, and everybody got rich.

Until now.

By noon De Kooning was gonna
have the cash and we'd close the deal.

A few hours more, and your guys
would've busted into an empty warehouse.

So you ran down Hendrik Kuyper

to keep him off De
Kooning's case...

Oh, no!

Until De Kooning got
his hands on this money,

then you killed him for it.

And you figured you would
sell the armaments to his buyer.

Inspector, if I would've got my hands
on that cash, I would've been long gone.

Tell me, Harry,

where did De Kooning say he
was going to find all this money?

Excuse me, Inspector.

The lab report on the fingerprints
we found on the murder knife

and on the note Mrs.
Fletcher received.

918, 919. Yes.

It's all there?

The entire two million
pounds. Now, back up just a bit.

You say you think Halsey may be
involved along with this Vidal woman?

Who is not who she claims to be.

The Amsterdam News said they
had no one there working by that name.

Now, yesterday
morning in the lobby

I happened to notice Mr. Halsey
slip a piece of paper to her.

All right.

But how does that connect
them to Nigel Allison's kidnapping?

Well, it doesn't necessarily.

But I think it's possible that De
Kooning's widow was mistaken,

and her husband wasn't deceiving
her about the airplane's readiness.

You mean Nick Halsey may
have been misleading both of them?

Exactly.

I mean, suppose he was planning
a sudden getaway with Miss Vidal?

Now, look, Jessica, you
may be correct or not,

but right now I have to focus
solely on securing Nigel's freedom.

And from here on out...

it becomes extremely risky.

Something to which I have
no intention of exposing you.

Colin, I am going with
you, and that is that.

I mean, Lord knows what kind
of shape Nigel is going to be in,

so I packed some sandwiches and
some bottled water, and bandages.

No wonder he speaks
so highly of you.

I care for Nigel just
as much as you do.

He saved my life in Beirut.

But you must understand, these people
are notoriously unreliable and volatile.

Now, I want you to go back to your
suite while I wait here for their call.

And God help us, I
hope we aren't too late.

Mr. Biddle. Inspector Van Horn.

Mrs. Fletcher, you weren't in your
room, so I assumed I'd find you here.

What is it, Inspector?

The police laboratory has
provided positive identification

of the fingerprints
on the death weapon

and on the note you allegedly
received from Mr. De Kooning.

Allegedly?

Inspector Van Horn...
Quiet, Mr. Biddle.

Or whoever you are.

I will deal with you
and your activities later.

For now, the only prints
on the message itself

were yours, Mrs. Fletcher,

and the same is
true of the knife.

Therefore, I'm placing you under
arrest for the murder of Philip De Kooning.

Inspector, I never
touched that knife.

And as for the note, well, it
was clearly prepared by the killer

as part of an attempt to frame
me for Mr. De Kooning's murder.

Perhaps.

You know, I did not find
a murderess in that face.

But it is one that is
capable of deception.

I've never lied to you.

No, you have not. As yet.

But I said deception. There is
a difference, however subtle.

Tell me, what
connection do you know of

between the murder of Philip De
Kooning and your missing friend?

None, I'm afraid. There seems
to be a lot of disparate pieces.

Halsey, Monika Vidal.

And according to Harry Tigner,

De Kooning expected to pay
him a large sum of money today.

And yet, this report on
De Kooning's finances

indicates that at
the time of his death

his assets were virtually nil.

Now, Mrs. Fletcher,
it's time for the rest of it.

For you to tell me exactly what
role Mr. Biddle plays in all this.

All right. But you
must understand

that any interference by you or your people
could result in Nigel Allison's death.

I'd rather assumed it
was something like this.

Inspector, I think I know how
my fingerprints were placed...

On the murder weapon.

They were lifted
on transparent tape,

from something else I
held at one time or another.

A device employed
sometimes, I am sorry to say,

by unethical,
overzealous police officers.

Mrs. Fletcher? What is it?

Inspector, I believe
I know who killed

Mr. De Kooning and
how to find Nigel Allison.

I only hope we can get to
him in time to save his life.

I'm calling to tell you that I'm
not going to wait any longer.

Either you come here
now or I will kill Allison

and notify the police
that you are behind it.

That was very convincing.

Well, I just hope that it sounded
like the voice that I heard.

We'll find out.

Ja? Muller?

Our target is on the move.

What the hell is wrong with
you, falling apart like this?

Falling apart?

What are you talking about?

What are you doing? Do you
want Allison to identify you?

Mr. Allison is of no
further use to us, Biddle.

Halsey.

He just doesn't get it.

Change of plan, pal. A new
line-up, and you're on the bench.

Give me the gun.

It's all about arithmetic.

Two divides into two million
pounds a lot easier than three.

Well, well. Can't say
I'm surprised, partners.

But you're forgetting one
essential piece of the equation.

Newspapers?

I had a hunch when you phoned.
The money's safely hidden.

When I phoned?

I'm afraid that was me.

And he's right.

Until a moment ago, the money was
safely hidden in the trunk of his car.

You fool. You led them here.

Where's Nigel Allison?

He's over there. He's not hurt.

Inspector, I can
explain everything.

I had an anonymous tip
that Nigel was being held...

Save your breath,
Biddle, for the courtroom.

Mrs. Fletcher has worked out
everybody's role in this matter,

yours included.

She figured it out?

Yes, I did.

Remember when you described
your interview with Nigel Allison?

You talked about him
in such glowing terms.

Just the way a world-famous
author should be,

with a suntan, and a carnation in
his lapel and that twinkle in his eye.

The flowers on Inspector
Van Horn's desk reminded me

that I gave Nigel the carnation
just before he went to his room,

a minute or so
before 12:00 noon.

And since he was electronically
checked out of the hotel

only three minutes later,

it's likely that the only person who
saw him wearing that flower was you,

the kidnapper.

Once I realized you were
in on it, I asked myself,

how could the kidnapper be sure
that Nigel would be in his room

at precisely 12:02 yesterday?

And that's when I remembered

that he was expecting an
appointment call from London.

From you, Colin. You set
Nigel up for the kidnapping.

Your plan was working
quite well, Mr. Biddle,

until the wrinkle with
Mr. De Kooning occurred.

I don't know what you mean.

He means that somehow Philip De
Kooning found out about the ransom,

and probably tried
to cut himself in on it,

so you killed him and set me up.

No, no, Jessica. I may be
part of a failed kidnap plot,

but you can't tie
me into that murder.

Oh, I don't have to. You did
that yourself with my fingerprints.

On the phone, in your room, you
asked me to pour you a glass of water.

You took it from me,

being very careful not
to disturb my fingerprints.

And being a professional, you
knew just how easy it would be

to transfer them to
the murder weapon.

We found the glass in
your room, Mr. Biddle,

complete with traces
of tape adhesive.

It wasn't fair.

I'd worked out the entire
plan, taken all the risk,

and here was this loudmouth
interloper, De Kooning,

trying to horn in.

He'd overheard a phone
conversation I'd had with this idiot.

He came to see me.

I have worked too long,
planned for this too hard,

to have someone
like you dictate to me...

Look, look, Biddle!

From here on out,
I'm your new partner.

For one million pounds sterling
for keeping my mouth shut.

You have no
choice in the matter.

I knew he had to die.

And then you walked in, and I
saw the perfect way to get rid of him,

and to stop your meddling, too.

I phoned up De
Kooning in his suite,

arranged to visit him to
finalize our agreement.

Then you left a fake message
from De Kooning to me,

asking me to meet him there.

Only you met him first.

Would it have been
worth it anyway, Colin,

with your friends here, just
waiting to kill you in the end?

I'm sorry for what I
did to you, Jessica.

For what I did to Nigel.

And your research was
tracking Philip De Kooning?

Yes.

And Mr. Biddle admitted running
down Hendrik Kuyper in a rented car.

Yes, well, that was
to prevent Kuyper

from revealing Colin's
involvement, of course.

Thank you, Jessica,
for being there.

Speaking of thank
you, I have a gift.

For you, Mrs. Fletcher. A
keepsake of your visit to Amsterdam.

Ooh. I wonder if I
can guess what it is.

Oh!

You really captured
her, Inspector.

Almost.

Unfortunately, I
had to let her go.