Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 12, Episode 24 - Death by Demographics - full transcript

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Oh, yes!

That's it! First mainline fix
of your man, T.T. Baines!

This station, it's
about survival!

Russ wants you to
argue with T.T. Baines?

On the air?

You realize we're gonna
lose our entire audience?

And replace it with
12-to 18-year olds.

No more music by dead guys.

You cultural sink-hole!

Someone took a shot
at T.T. Baines last night.



You had a real
instinct for publicity.

You think I would
kill for a job?

He threatened to expose me.

He was blackmailing you.

Why are you doing this to me?

Someone is trying to kill me.

And that, ladies and
gentlemen, for you music lovers,

was Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.

For you guys who just like
to crank up your stereos,

it was that cool thing
with the cannons.

It's all right, I turned
mine up, too, at that point.

That was a brand new
surround-sound recording

by the Krakow
Symphony Orchestra,

conducted by Janos Symanski.



And now, this message.

Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh,
yes! San Francisco!

This is T. T. You
heard that right.

You know who I am,
you know what I do!

And unless you've
been living in your closet

for the last couple of weeks,

you know that
starting on Monday,

I am taking over the
airwaves in San Francisco!

That's right! I'm gonna be
slamming you with what's what.

The meaning, the secret
of what it is all about!

Don't worry, Howard, it's
not the end of the world.

Are you quite sure?

Hey, turn around, dude.

Ain't no way, man.

Are you sure about that?

Russ, Russ, Russ! What, are
you losing faith in me, man? Huh?

I don't know, T.T.

St. Louis and Chicago,
they were easy.

Listen to this. This
town's already out there.

No. No. No. You see,
they think it is, okay?

Once they get a load of what
I'm gonna be laying on 'em,

it's gonna make everything
else sound like Lawrence Welk.

See, I'm gonna make 'em love it.

I'm gonna make 'em love me.

You better watch it, pal.

Buying into your own
hype is dangerous.

Ah, come on! Hype-schmype!

Hey, whatever happened to
"Russ the PR Monster," huh?

Oh!

Oh, geez! Russ,
somebody's shooting at us!

I told you this
was a tough town!

And that, I am sorry to say,

is all the time we
have left for today.

Uh, my guest this week, this
final week at the Look At Books,

has been the elegant
Jessica Fletcher,

the first lady of
mystery writing.

Oh. Hey! Careful, Howard.

Agatha Christie's ghost
may strike you dead.

Under the circumstances,

that might be a desirable fate.

Jessica's latest best-seller is
A Case And A Half Of Murder.

I am loving it. I'm on Page 167,

and I want to know,
just between us,

is Leroy telling the truth
about the hijacking of the...

Tell me later. We'll
make them read the book.

You will love it too! I promise.

Over the next few days,
this is Howard Deems,

the voice of K.L.O.Y. FM,
114.3 on your radio dial,

wishing you all a very
good day and good reading.

And we're off.

Oh, and Howard,

Graham wants to see you.

He's not too happy
about your editorializing.

Right.

Eddie? Eddie, where
the hell are the CDs

you're supposed
to get for the show?

I've been busy.

You've been busy.

Let me explain
something to you, all right?

In 32 hours, I hit the air for
the first time in San Francisco.

I want things the
way I want things.

Now, do you wanna
work with me or not?

Unless, of course, you think maybe
your reflexes are a little too slow

to keep up with the kind
of cues I'm gonna need.

I could talk to Russ about that.

Thanks, T.T., but Russ already
spelled it out for me real clear!

And?

You'll have 'em tonight.

Thank you, Eddie. Thank you.

The face, and it pains me
to say, the voice of the future.

Any news about yours?

Mostly it's, "Call
us in six months,"

or it's just flat-out
disinterest.

My agent's embarrassed
to return my calls, Jess.

Apparently, the market
for aging announcers

who actually prize
the English language

is even more limited than, uh...

Excuse me, Mr. Howard Deems?

Yes.

Can I have a moment?

Uh, Lieutenant Evers?

Mrs. Fletcher, what
a pleasant surprise.

Thank you!

What brings you to
San Francisco this time?

I'm here on a book tour and to visit
with my good friend, Howard Deems.

Bless you.

Thanks. Do you... Bless you.

Yes, Howard has a cat!

And I take it that your
wife still has hers?

She offered to get rid of it.

Trouble is, I got
attached to him.

Mr. Deems, I need to
ask you some questions.

We may have a problem.

You must have heard, someone
took a shot at T.T. Baines last night.

Oh, yes. We heard.

But what does that
got to do with Howard?

Well, that's what
I want to know.

Oh, come on, Dad.

I kept the office apprised
of where I could be reached.

I could've cut my trip short
and been back here in a second.

The opportunity presented itself

and it was just too
good to pass up.

But, a total change in format?

You realize we're gonna
lose our entire audience.

Yeah, and replace it
with 12-to 18-year olds.

The ones who spend serious money
on new products and new ideas.

And the ones that advertisers
pay big dollars trying to reach.

Oh, whoa.

Wasn't the Lexus a new
product a few years ago?

I don't see too many teenagers
driving those babies around.

Look, Bud, Russ here and
T.T. worked miracles in Chicago.

Turned the town's
lowest-rated station

into number one
in less than a year.

St. Louis and
Cincinnati before that.

Listen, Bud, we're gonna
make a great team together.

We?

I thought that you
and T.T. were the team

and I ran programming.

Bud, I have appointed
Russ Co-Vice President.

I mean, you will share
programming responsibilities.

God, Dad, I...

Just remind me never
to go on vacation again.

Look, I've got a bunch of stuff
I've gotta get ready for Monday.

Why don't I let you two get
back on the same page together?

Thanks.

Son, I'm sorry.

It was either this or oblivion.

Hello? Am I interrupting
something momentous?

Of course not! Come in, darling.

Welcome back, Bud.

I want to hear
all about your trip.

Can you join us for lunch?

Thanks, but it looks like I
have a lot of catching up to do.

Dad, is it really
worth all this?

Oh, Lauren, I hope your
instinct's right about Baines

and Russ Connell.

Excuse me.

Colleen, can I talk
to you for a minute?

Yeah. Hang on a second, Phil.

Annie, what's up?
You're doing great,

but try not to be so late with your buy
confirmations, else I'll never catch up!

Right. Sorry. But you know,

I can think of worse problems!

"And the new K.L.O.Y. hits
the youth-market bulls-eye

"with disc-jockeys that speak
their language and play their music

"from rock to
hip-hop, to rap to junk."

Junk?

Uh, that's funk.
Sorry, that's a typo.

Look, Murray, my
kids eat this stuff up,

and they wear sneakers
by the cartload, so...

I've already talked
to Colleen Sellers.

What? Our Colleen Sellers?

Yeah. She called me the other
day regarding the purchase of...

Oh, yeah. Yeah. So long, Murray.

Oh, I'm glad to do it, Phil.

Listen, you enjoy that concert,
okay? It's gonna be humungous.

Biggest thing since
The Dead were on tour...

Colleen, what the hell do
you think you're doing... Dave!

Stealing my sports
court shoes account?

Could you just keep
it down here, please?

No, Phil! Thank you.

I know. Isn't it amazing?

And he's not
even on the air yet.

I told you, buying time on T.T.
Baines was like money in the bank.

Okay. Bye.

Dave, I didn't
steal your clients.

Their ad agency called me.

Sure. Like you didn't grab
my other two biggest accounts.

Well, I've got news for you.
I'm taking this to Graham.

Well, be my guest.

Russ, I've gotta
talk to you about her!

Not now, Moline!

Damn it! You owe me.

Not now!

Mr. Deems, you admit
you have more to lose

from this changeover at
the station than anyone else?

Look, Lieutenant, that is
the most unfair insinuation!

I mean, I have known Howard...

- Mrs. Fletcher...
- If I may? Yeah.

Your engineer, Eddie Mapp,
confirms that you were absent

from the broadcast booth
for 20 minutes last night,

during which time
the shot was fired.

Look, Howard has
already told you

that he went to the deli and
ordered a dinner sandwich,

and that he took the long
way back to the studio.

Because he wanted
the exercise. Sure.

Jess... Bless you.

But we're swimming
upstream here.

In the next breath,

Lieutenant Evers
is gonna tell us...

that his people have been
through my locker here,

and they have found...

Yes! My target rifle!

It's been recently fired,
Lieutenant. Thanks.

At the East Bay Rifle
Club yesterday afternoon.

My regular Wednesday
afternoon team practice.

And, of course, I neglected
to clean my weapon after firing.

And, of course, my
confreres will confirm to you

that as a past
national champion,

I could shoot the eye out
of an ostrich at 50 yards.

Look, Lieutenant, if
he is such a crack shot,

I mean, how could he
possibly have missed

either T.T. Baines or
Russ Connell last night?

Anyway, you told me that the
bullet was too mangled to identify.

Or tie to any single weapon.

Right.

Okay. Mr. Deems,

for now, just don't go anyplace
where I can't find you, okay?

Oh, hey. My wife and I,

we're gonna miss your
opera broadcasts a lot.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

On the other hand,
our 13-year-old,

already ape for
your replacement.

Howard, go get the car.
I'll meet you downstairs.

Thank you.

Bye-bye, Beethoven. Adios, Bach.

Buenas noches, Brahms.

Oh!

Mr. Baines!

Mr. Deems!

I will still be playing
these until Monday.

Relax. You'll find
them. They're right there.

Look, come on. As
if it weren't enough

that I gotta tweak dials in a
strange studio for six hours.

Somebody is trying to kill
me, in case you didn't hear.

Which, by the way, I'm assuming,

they decided you didn't
take that shot at me?

I had nothing to do with it.

Hey, I'm just kidding, okay?

At your age it's surprising
you hit anything at all.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

You see what it is, Howard?
It's no more music by dead guys!

You dolt!

You are a cultural sinkhole!
You're a Troglodyte!

Guys, this is beautiful!

What? Seeing everything
I care about trashed?

Or listening to his gibberish?

Howard, wait a minute!

Russ, Russ, Russ. Let him
go. The guy cannot take a joke.

Well, that's what's so perfect!

I found the key to
winning big in this town!

Yin and yang. Good cop, bad cop.

Howard! Oh!

You see, that scares me!

Oh, how you doing, gorgeous?

I'm fine, honey. The
question is, how are you doin'?

Oh, you know what it said in
the high school yearbook, right?

"T.T. Baines will live
forever." "Live forever."

That's right. That's
right. You will!

Right. $3,227.

You'll have your check
Monday at the latest.

Sorry for the delay.

Yeah. Well, the good news is,

it seems to be
helping our cash-flow.

You, too.

Well, I can see why Graham
considers you irreplaceable, Annie.

Can I help you with
anything, Mr. Connell?

It's Russ. And you can help
yourself by getting used to me.

Hmm.

I suppose I will.

I'm not as flexible
as I used to be.

Really?

It doesn't seem to
have affected your neck.

You're still able to look the
other way without any trouble.

I don't think I understand.

Sure you do.

I'm talking about how Dave Moline
manages to have lunch at his desk

but still can put in a chit for a
$75 lunch at the top of the mark,

all on the same day.

And given his dismal
sales performance

and the size of his
expense account,

I can't help but conclude
that he's very lucky

to have you handling
the books around here.

What're you driving
at, Mr. Connell?

I just thought that
you'd be willing to

make it worth my while
to keep this between us.

That sounds a whole
lot like blackmail.

Nothing wrong with
your hearing either.

I was thinking of something
in the neighborhood of, say...

A couple of thousand a week.

A couple... Are you crazy?

Where do you think I
can find that kind of cash?

Same place you find
Dave's expense money.

Calm down?

Firstly, they accused me
of taking a shot at that freak!

And then his keeper
has the gall to suggest

that I work on air with him?

Now, Russ wants you to
argue with T.T. Baines?

On the air?

I mean, to be his foil?

Foil!

What a nice word, Jessica!

I think "Stooge" describes
it rather more accurately.

He says there's an
almost "chemical edge"

between myself
and that throwback!

Well, I told him he
could take that idea and...

Ah! At last a voice of reason!

Howard, now look. I can't
fault your sense of outrage.

And believe me, I
appreciate your willingness

to forgo any future
payment on your contract.

Jessica, do you hear the
sound of another shoe dropping?

Ah, it does have
that ring, Howard.

Cute. Cute.

If you think I enjoy
this, you're wrong.

Get to it, Graham.

Okay. Okay. Um...

Our lawyers have examined
your contract, and, uh...

Well, basically,
they reminded me

it does run another 14 months.

You mean Howard must handle

whatever assignments
Russ wants to give him?

I tried to dissuade Russ, but...

What's Russ to do
with this, Graham?

What about us? What
about you and me?

Oh, Howard, please!

Jessica, talk to him, will you?

And try not to judge me.

Hi, Russ.

Hey, babe.

Let's go take a Jacuzzi.

Let's have another drink first.

Look, Bud, I just want to
make this thing work for us,

and for your father.

Uh-huh?

What's the story with
you and Lauren Hayward?

Story? We grew up together.

Right.

She comes to San
Francisco six months ago,

my dad goes crazy for her,

the station happens
to be in the dumper,

and she convinces him

that you and T.T. can save
our tails for a few bucks.

That's a whole lot
of coincidences.

Bud, I swear, that's all it was.

Okay, then maybe
you can explain the fact

that when she supposedly
moved here from New York,

she came via a three-week
stopover in Chicago,

where you guys just
happened to be working.

It's no secret.

She just came by to
renew an old friendship.

You know what I think?

I think the three of you have been
working together for a long time.

I think it would be
real interesting to trace

how you got set up in
St. Louis and Chicago.

Let me ask you a question.

Does this have anything
to do with the fact

that a beautiful
lady about your age

is more interested in
your father than in you?

No. It doesn't.

All I can say, pal, you
may not be aware of it,

but you got a major problem.

And now, the last act of
Giordano's opera, Andrea Chenier,

in which Chenier, the noble
French poet and patriot,

is sent to his death
on the guillotine,

a victim of the Revolution.

I hope you'll forgive the
somewhat obvious metaphor,

as this concludes my final
broadcast of Classics In The Morning.

I want to thank you all for a long
and rewarding musical friendship.

And don't forget to look for
me on the new K.L.O.Y. FM,

featuring that exciting newcomer to
San Francisco Radio, T. T. Baines.

Well, I don't know what you said

to Howard to turn
him around, Jessica,

but we owe you.

I wish you didn't.

Here's the material you
asked me to pull, Mr. Forbes.

Thanks, Annie.

These are the employee
files you asked for.

I'm not sure what
you're gonna find

that the police
haven't already found.

Well, I'm not sure
that I know either.

But since Howard is still up there
on their screens as the prime suspect,

I have to give it a try.

Are you thinking that
maybe the shooter was

one of our people,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Two grand a week he wants?

Oh, man.

Annie, I feel terrible.

I mean, I dragged you into this,

helping me pad my
expenses and all.

Oh, old news.

Maybe I should've called
you on it in the beginning,

but you were in such a bind

with your kid's medical
bills and your mother and...

I kept meaning to pay it back.

How much are we up to now?

46,000 and change.

Oh, God.

Listen, Dave,

if you repaid it and then
we explained it to Graham,

we'd be heading that
creep off at the pass.

Forget it.

I'm mortgaged up to
here, my plastic is maxed,

and the way my sales
have been going...

Okay.

Then we just go to
Graham and confess

and hope he'll understand.

I don't think so.

You had no call to walk
out on me last night.

You didn't give me much choice.

You wouldn't listen, Russ.
You're not listening now.

I really care about Graham.

I love him.

You'll get over it. No! I won't.

I'm gonna marry Graham Forbes.

Get outta here! In
two weeks you'll see

that it's just like it was
in St. Louis and Chicago.

Look, from here we go to
LA and then to New York.

No. You and T.T., you'll do it.

You don't need me to
shill for you anymore.

You're wrong,
Lauren, I need you.

Russ. Dave, not now!

We've gotta talk! I said later!

When? When I say so.

Now get outta here!

I don't think I even want to
know what that one was about.

All Graham Forbes has to
offer is a lame radio station

that he can't even unload!

It's not about the money, Russ!

That's all it's ever been about.

That, and you and me.

I'm not letting you go.

Are you saying what
I think you're saying?

Let me answer
that with a question.

Do you think Graham's
enough of a stand-up guy

to overlook the station
owners that you conned

in Chicago,
Cincinnati, St. Louis?

Russ, you wouldn't do that.

There's only gonna be
one villain in this piece,

and it's not gonna be me.

So just get ready
to kiss him off

like you did all the others.

People, people, people! We're
doing some serious damage

in the studio here
today, ain't that right?

Damage our insurance
does not cover.

Riding shotgun with
me is the illustrious,

the erudite, Howard Deems.

Howard, what'd you think of that
last piece of music? Great, right?

Yes, Mr. Baines, it was great,
if your definition of greatness

includes the banal,
the numbingly repetitive,

the unintelligible.

What you just played is
non-music. Empty-music.

It postpones music.
No, it displaces music.

You're right in a sense
though, it was a great piece of...

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! FCC rules.

Let me ask you a question, okay?

Do you know the difference
between boring and not boring?

Yes. Boring, what
you just played.

Not boring, Schumann's
Kinderszenen.

Boring, what
you're going to play.

Not boring, Mozart's
Symphony No. 35.

Uh-uh. Wrong answer. But
thanks for playing our game!

San Francisco, that's
it. You've just had it.

Your first shot, your first
dose, your first main-line fix

via the radio airways of
your man, T.T. Baines.

So until manana, this
is T.T. riding at you

with Howard Deems trying
desperately to keep up.

Howard, good night.

Good night, Mr. Baines.

See you tomorrow,
6:00 a.m. Ciao, kiddies!

They liked it?

I was right, Mrs. Fletcher.

Whether he likes it or not, your friend
Howard has found himself a new career.

Well, I'm afraid it looks
that way, Mr. Connell.

Are we smoking or what?

You were super, T.T.

Fabulous! And you too, Howard!

Ah, Howard! Howard is my man!

That thing you said about
Eddie Vedder, that was priceless!

Hey, Mrs. Fletcher, why don't you
join us on the air one night, huh?

Well, maybe next time
I'm in San Francisco.

Outstanding! It's set then. Hey,
book the lady a slot, would you?

Mrs. Fletcher, you're on!

Guys, it was everything
we'd hoped for.

Come here!

Jess, don't put your neck
in the noose on my account.

Listen, that can't have
been easy for you.

Can I buy you a
cup of coffee, dinner?

Ah, rain check, Jess?

Maybe we can grab breakfast
on the way to the airport.

Sure!

Lauren! Lauren! Lauren! I can't
get over it. You look fantastic!

Thank you, T.T.

San Francisco certainly
appears to be agreeing with you!

Well, this town is great,

but that's not
what's doing it to me.

It's Graham.

Oh, do tell!

I'm serious! It's the
first time in my life

that I know what it
feels like to be in love!

Oh, come on, Lauren! It's
gonna happen just like before.

You're gonna blow outta town,
move on to greener pastures.

You're gonna forget
all about Graham,

like you forgot about
the rest of those clowns.

No, no, no. You're wrong,
T.T., with Graham it's different.

Look, you've always
been straight with me.

You're starting to sound
a hell of a lot like Russ.

Did he put you up to this?

No. No, Lauren. Come on,
this is me talking to you, okay?

It's just that I've known
you for a hell of a long time,

and I can't picture
you throwing away

everything you've worked
so hard for on Graham.

I cannot believe that
you're saying this.

You know what, if you were a true
friend, you'd be really happy for me!

Next thing I know you'll be
threatening to go to Graham as well.

Come on!

Just forget it, T.T.

Oh! Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

I thought I was
the only one here.

Oh, sorry! I didn't mean
to startle you, Colleen.

I've just been working
in Graham's office.

Oh, these time sales are just
jumping off the charts here.

I didn't want to get too far
behind, logging these in for Annie.

Colleen, I'm really concerned

that the police still
suspect Howard

of shooting at T.T. and Russ.

Hey, I don't blame you.

I totally can't picture him
pulling a stunt like that.

Well, that's why I've been
going through the personnel files,

hoping that I might find someone
else who would've had a reason to do it.

Well, then you must've
noticed that I'd spent six months

at WWRA, in Bangor, Maine.

The owner, Phil Sinclair,
is a friend of mine.

I talked to him
a little while ago.

He said he thought you
had a real instinct for publicity

but that sometimes, you had
a tendency to go overboard

with some of your ideas.

Oh.

Well, then he must also have
told you that he canned me.

So, you're wondering
whether I had something to do

with what happened
the other night.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher, I didn't
fire that shot at Russ and T.T.

Of course.

Let me tell you something.

I don't aim to quit until the
show is syndicated nationwide.

I'm not about to let you or
anybody else stand in my way.

Somebody thinks they can push
me around, they're asking for real...

Ugh!

So, I'm in my room. I'm dead
asleep. I hear this screaming.

I yank open the
door and the maid is...

She's standing there
in Russ's doorway.

How long have the two of
you been business associates?

Come on, forget
business associates!

The guy was my best friend
since we were six years old.

Lieutenant?

It's all right. Let them in.

Be right with
you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Now, did he have a family?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Oh, man.

Look, can I go? I should
probably go call his old man,

tell him what happened.

Sure, go ahead.

And how do you and Mr. Deems
happen to be here, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I was staying
here at this hotel.

I was picking her up to
take her to the airport.

We saw the commotion downstairs.

What do you make
of this, Lieutenant?

Well, the poor guy was run
through with a fireplace poker.

No prints, it was wiped clean.

Appears to have happened
between 2:00 and 5:00 a.m.

A robbery that went wrong.

The victim's wallet is
empty, credit cards are gone.

Probably one of those
middle-of-the-night break-ins,

where Mr. Connell was unlucky
enough to interrupt the thief.

Something wrong, Mrs. Fletcher?

Why didn't the thief take that?

Uh, maybe we're
looking at an amateur,

or a spaced-out junkie
who panicked and ran.

Or, uh... You don't look
like I've made a sale.

Of course, there's always
the other possibility that

the killer didn't
care what they took.

And just wanted to
create the impression

that robbery was
the primary motive.

Well, that'd play right
into another scenario

that the killer was
the same individual

who took a shot at
Mr. Connell the other night.

Mr. Deems, you mind
telling me where you were

between 2:00 and
5:00 this morning?

Uh, I was at home.

By yourself? Yes.

Asleep, right?

No, as a matter of fact,

I was lying flat on my
back staring at the ceiling,

contemplating the
evaporation of the rest of my life.

Well, don't plan on
any traveling. Okay?

Oh! What a situation.

Lauren's an absolute wreck.

It's a very personal
loss for her, you know.

Yeah.

Ah, I just hope to God
it's not one of our people.

Morbid thought, but, you know,

this is gonna buy
us and T.T. Baines

more publicity than
we could've dreamed of.

I wish I had never started this
whole programming make-over.

If I'd been kept
within the loop...

Bud, please, not now.

Sorry.

Look, I really need your help.

Can I count on you?

Yes, Dad. Yes.

Graham.

Uh, Howard, can it wait?

No, Graham, it can't.

Sorry, I don't mean to add to
your problems, but I can't go on.

Howard. No!

I mean, the initial reaction

to you and T.T. has
been spectacular!

Forgive me for
not feeling flattered,

but, as the fox said after
making love to the porcupine,

"I've enjoyed about as
much of this as I can stand."

Look, Howard, if it's a matter
of money, perhaps we can...

No, Graham.

It's a matter of being able to look at
myself in the mirror in the morning!

I cannot go on blithely being struck
over the head with a pig bladder

by a 27-year-old illiterate in the
name of so-called entertainment.

Well, just bear with
us for a while anyway.

Just until T.T.
gets his bearings.

Uh, to lose his buddy
and you at the same time.

For old times' sake.

Like father, like son.

Mmm-hmm.

Hello, T.T.

Hey, Mrs. Fletcher.
Figured you'd be, you know,

flying back to New York by now.

Well, so did I, but I was
worried about Howard.

Oh, God. You know, I heard that.

I don't understand how
such a sweet guy could've...

You know?

I can't get used to the
idea that Russ is gone.

I mean, the guy
was my best friend

all through grade
school, high school.

T.T., you gonna be up
for your drive-time show?

Yeah. Yeah. The
show must go on, right?

You know, Russ, he
got me started in all this.

I read about it
in your press kit.

You were working as
a fry cook in Cincinnati?

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
Pathetic but true.

Anyway, one
night, Russ walks in.

I hadn't seen
him in like a year,

and he had just
dropped out of college,

so he was totally bummed.
As bummed as I was.

Anyway, the music is playing

and I just started
talking nonsense,

you know, trying
to cheer him up.

All of a sudden he's
like, "T.T., I can see it.

"You are gonna be on the radio!"

And that was it?

Well, that and a lot of luck.

Look, I gotta get going, but
thanks for letting me rattle on.

Oh, not at all, T.T.

Annie, do you have a minute?

I need to ask you some
questions about Dave Moline.

Mrs. Fletcher was very reluctant
to share information with me

about your problems
back in Maine, Ms. Sellers.

But this is a homicide
investigation now.

Lieutenant, why would I
want to kill Russ Connell?

Because of him and T.T. Baines,

I'm having the best year
ever, by about double.

Then something drastic
must've happened.

Personnel had an order
from Connell to pink-slip you

as of the close of
business Friday.

Oh. No, please, tell
me you're kidding!

You think I would
kill for a job?

Where were you at
the time of the murder?

At home. Asleep.

Alone, unfortunately.

I'll keep in touch.

It's weird, isn't it,

how just talking to a cop
can make you feel guilty?

Oh, yeah, it's a scream.

Hmm.

But, on the bright side,

at least now you won't
have to be working with Russ.

I guess you're not too
broken up about that.

I'd say neither one of us is.

I saw Russ' termination
memo on you.

And?

I canceled it.

Colleen, how'd you
like to be head of sales?

Well, I think you know
the answer to that, Bud.

But at what price?

As of this moment,
you and I close ranks.

You cover for
me, I cover for you.

I think we could do
some good things here.

Something funny?

No. Just...

Just life.

You said there was something
you needed to talk to me about.

If this has to do with my
expense account situation...

Now, Annie's already
told me about that, Dave,

and how you plan
to make things right.

This is about Russ Connell.

Russ wasn't the
nicest guy in the world.

No, he wasn't.

And I now believe that he was
blackmailing you about something.

Me?

I'm the last guy anyone
would try that with.

I'm perpetually broke!

Not for money, but
in some other way.

Mrs. Fletcher, why are
you doing this to me?

Because Howard Deems
is in trouble over something

I believe Russ Connell
forced you to do.

I didn't kill him, if that's
what you're thinking.

Maybe not.

But Russ had access
to the employee files,

and in yours he
must have discovered

your service in
the Marine Corps,

and the mention of your
sharpshooter's medal.

Russ told me no
one would find out.

"Just fire a shot," he said.

Being careful not to hit
Russ or T.T. or harm anyone.

He said it'd be a
great publicity gag.

I suppose you're going
to tell the police about this.

It'll be better coming
from you, Dave.

Please, tell Lieutenant Evers.

At least clear Howard
of this shooting.

- Howard.
- Mr. Baines.

No, no, no. Howard. Mr. Baines.

Howard!

Mr. Baines, your
insults do not wound.

Don't imply what
you mean to infer.

Then your insults have
a little pith, a little depth...

Howard. Come on! You
are like a broken record, man.

It's not like you're a guy
who isn't on the right page.

We're talkin' about an
entirely different book here!

Absolutely. Yes!

I cover your page
with both thumbs.

I'm glad we agree.

San Francisco,
that's just about it.

I know it's sad, but it's true.

I gotta get outta here.

Uh, but before I leave, I
would like to dedicate this show

to a good friend of mine,
the late Russell Connell.

Gonna miss you, man.

Until tomorrow,
this is T. T. Baines,

riding at you with his
ever faithful companion,

Howard the Deems-man,
sitting by my side.

Howard, have I told
you today that I love you?

No. I'm so grateful.

On your new rowdy,
raucous radio station,

K.L.O.Y. FM, located
at 114.3 on your dial.

Hey, I just did the Deems!

See you tomorrow,
6:00 a.m. Ciao, people!

Thanks. Both of you.

That was a hell of an effort.

Hey, Mrs. Fletcher.

Good show, T.T.

Thanks to Howard here.

Jessica, if the
offer's still open,

you can buy me that drink now.

I think it'll have to wait.

Lieutenant, there's
something I must tell you.

Later, Moline. I've got
bigger fish to fry right now.

Mr. Deems, I'm placing you under
arrest for Russell Connell's murder.

But, Lieutenant, why?

Eyewitness. A chambermaid
at Mr. Connell's hotel

placed Mr. Deems in
the corridor at 3:00 a.m.,

coming out of
the victim's suite.

Okay, okay.
Suppose you're right.

Suppose Mr. Deems
is telling the truth

that he went there
to tell Russell Connell

that he couldn't face working with
T.T. Baines and found him dead.

Well, now that is a small
step in the right direction.

I'll let that pass,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Look, my apologies...

Now, you're assuming that the
door was left open by the murderer.

Yeah. But... I know
he's a friend of yours.

The fact is I would just
as soon he wasn't the killer.

My wife's been hocking
me for arresting him

ever since I came
home last night.

Well, you said that nobody
else had an alibi either.

Well, exactly. You know where
this puts me, Mrs. Fletcher?

This is like you're renewing my
long-term lease on square one.

All right. Let's go back to the
notion that this robbery stuff

was just a diversion
to throw us off.

Unless... Oh, come
on, that was your idea.

Oh, I know, I know.
But here's another one.

I mean, suppose one or more
of the items that were taken

had some special significance.

And the rest was
simply a smoke screen.

Okay. Well, apparently,
all we're missing

are the contents from his wallet
and a bunch of credit cards,

none of which has been
used since the murder.

What, Mason?

Uh, crime scene
photos, Lieutenant.

Oh, incidentally, that
money clip you spotted.

Solid silver.

T.T. Baines gave it to Connell

when they hit number
one in the Chicago market.

Lieutenant, there's something
wrong with this picture.

Something is missing.

I'm not sure I know what it is.

Excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher.

Evers.

Huh. Yeah.

Okay. I gotta go, Mrs. Fletcher.

There's a homicide
on Geary. Sure.

We'll take this
up later. Uh-huh.

Thank you.

The class ring!

You want to go over the schedule

for the drive-time
spots next week?

Uh, no. Not now, Eddie, okay?

$46,000?

I'm ashamed, Graham, I
never meant it to come this far.

But that's every penny
of it, including interest.

Annie here, she... Dave!

I've got to tell him.

She took out a second
mortgage on her condo.

Of course, I'll clear out
my desk and I'll be gone.

Dad, Dave's not
going anywhere, is he?

You're not gonna
sic the law on him.

It's okay, Annie. I understand.

And I deserve anything
the law has in store for me.

Dave! Dave! Stop.

Bud means that you've been there

for this station
from the beginning.

And when you were in trouble,

when you needed that loan,

I should never have
turned you down.

Look. Here. Go on. Take it.

Consider a long-overdue bonus.

Graham, I...

Thank you.

Right. All right.

Now, get out there and
sell some more time, huh?

And both of you,

try to keep down those expenses!

I still don't understand
what was so important

about Russ's ring being missing.

Because it was
his senior class ring

at Central High in Cincinnati,

where you and Russ
and T.T. were friends.

I don't follow you, Jessica.

Why would I be relieved
that it was taken?

Because it might
reveal something

that you didn't want Graham
Forbes to know about.

Graham and I have no secrets.

Lauren, this afternoon
I located the company

that supplied the class
rings at Central High.

Your original invoice was
still on their computers.

Do you remember the inscription?

"For Russ. Lovers
forever, Lauren."

I know what you're thinking.

And I did seriously
consider killing him.

He threatened to expose
me unless I used Graham

the same way that he made
me use the other station owners.

And in the end I had the anger,

but I didn't have the courage.

But if you had, Lauren, you'd have
taken the ring, too, wouldn't you?

I mean, thinking that it might
have led Graham to the truth.

But, I didn't. I really didn't.

Thank you, Lauren.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Yes! Yes! Yes! San
Francisco, this is T.T.

That's right. You heard
it right, T.T. Baines.

You know who I am.
You know what I do.

Oh! Time out, San Francisco,
we just got ourselves

a very special
visitor in the studio.

The one, the
only, J. B. Fletcher.

Jessica, to what
do I owe this honor?

Well, you did say
to stop by soon, T.T.

And since Howard Deems
is still, uh, indisposed...

Yeah. The Deems-man.
How's my little buddy doing?

Well, he's about to be
released for insufficient evidence.

Released! You heard it
here first, San Francisco!

That's great! Are they,
you know, saying who did it?

Well, that's the
unfortunate part.

You see, Russ's class ring
from Central High is missing.

It turns out to be the
last piece of the puzzle.

Yeah? What do you mean?

I'm afraid its disappearance
means Lauren killed Russ.

No, Mrs. Fletcher,

they've got it
wrong! Not Lauren.

I know you want
to protect her, but...

No, really.

Russ... He was gonna
ruin everything for her, but...

I'm sorry, T.T.

But Lauren is going to have
to pay the price for her crime.

If she's lucky and you testify

to what you know about Russ.

No, Lauren didn't do it.

I did.

Look, Lieutenant, Mrs.
Fletcher's got it all wrong.

I think you're looking for this.

I took it from him when I...

I tried to make it
look like a robbery.

And almost succeeded.

But a little while ago, when
Lauren was dabbing at her eyes,

I recalled a telltale soot
smudge on your handkerchief.

Look, can I go?

A handkerchief you used to wipe
your fingerprints from the fireplace poker.

I realized, finally, it
had to have been you

who took the one
worthless object

that was missing.

The class ring.

With an inscription from Lauren.

I was afraid Graham
was gonna find out

about it one way or another.

Russ...

I don't know, he
went over the edge.

I don't know what it was.
The money, the fame.

He was trying to force
Lauren to do Graham

the way she did the
other station managers.

I tried to convince him

that it was different
for her this time.

He just laughed at me.

She'd waited so long
for someone like Graham

to come into her life.

I couldn't let him do it.

I couldn't let him take
that away from her.

And Vivaldi concludes today's
session of Symphony On Parade.

Until tomorrow, this is
your host, Howard Deems,

wishing all of you
a very good day

from all of us here
at K.L.O. Y. FM.

Eduardo, we are back!

Bravissimo!

Jessica!

We've got to hurry if you're
not gonna miss your flight.

I'd like to find a little time,
too, for a celebratory shave.

This is sweet, isn't it?

Oh, it's splendid, Howard!

I couldn't be happier
for you and for K.L.O.Y.

And I understand that the
advertising sales are better than ever!

Indeed! Yeah.

The advertisers seem finally
to have discovered the idea

that people like us are an
invaluable segment of the market.

You know, it's funny,

but some of the stuff that
T.T. forced me to listen to

is actually kind of good.

Howard, am I hearing
what I think I'm hearing?

Yes, Jessica, you are.

And if you ever tell anyone, I
will never speak to you again!