Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 2, Episode 5 - Sing a Song of Murder - full transcript
Jessica's redheaded British cousin Emma McGill has her fly over to London to attend her 'funeral' as requested by last will, but actually it's a staged car accident so they can sleuth who is behind three incidents Emma considers but can't prove to be murder attempts, in her view for ownership of her old-fashioned Mayhew music hall, which is in financial trouble but valuable if sold -would be-buyers even awaited Jessica at the airport-, half of the profits would go to her late co-founder's wimpy son Archie Weems and his greedy spouse Violet. Jessica turns to a Scotland Yard friend but as he is on holiday confides in his colleague Inspector Roger Crimmins, who plays along so the suspects can be examined. While they approach Emma's London apartment, Mayhem dresser Bridget O'Hara leaves it and is fatally struck by a fast car, possibly because she was dressed like Emma in a coat promised to her; Emma admits she left a reassuring message to her old friend, has-been Shakespearian actor Oliver Trumbull, father of Mayhew actress Kitty, who is arrested for lying about hearing the answering machine message, but...
I'm here to get your signature
on this bill of sale. Oh, no.
Don't tell me "no"!
The "great lady" will still
be out on that stage a dozen
years from now, my dad
still kissing her pinky ring.
[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.
Your cousin was involved
in a fatal auto accident.
I told you. I did not
hear that message!
- In a few months, we'll have nothing.
- I'll talk to her!
[Woman] Your resemblance
to Emma's remarkable.
Now, there's one who would make
Lady Macbeth seem like a flower girl.
Inspector!
[Horns Honking]
[Man] Tell me, ain't I right?
A bloke never gets in
trouble chasing women.
It's after they're caught
the trouble begins.
[Chuckles]
I just got this
letter from a man.
Says if I don't stay away from
his wife, he's gonna shoot me.
Ruddy mess he's put me in. He
didn't sign it. [Scattered Chuckles]
Am I keeping you up then, mate?
Slumber time, eh?
Hello there, lady. Having
trouble with your trumpet?
A bit too loud for you, eh?
You like this suit? It was
a surprise from my wife.
I came home one night and found it hanging
on the back of a chair in the bedroom.
My wife used to shop
in three or four stores.
The bills were ungodly dear.
Now the bills are much smaller.
She shops in 30 or 40 stores.
[Chuckles] I said to my wife— I
said, "You ought to be in Parliament.
You bring so many
bills into the house."
Hello, Kitty. Bit of a
surprise seeing you here.
School's on holiday. Ah.
Your dad seems a bit off the mark tonight.
Did he tell you we've had an offer?
You've had offers before,
Archie. She won't sell.
Can't keep up this way. No?
Somehow, I think
the "great lady" will still
be out on that stage a
dozen years from now...
singing the same songs,
my dad still kissing
her pinky ring.
One day, he's got
the wolf at the door.
The next day, his
wife's wearin' a fur coat.
Ah, Miss Kitty. There's a
fine surprise seein' you here.
Hello, Bridget. And how
are the little children?
Learnin' their
lessons well, are they?
♪ [Vaudeville]
House full of ruddy corpses! They
can damn well do without my encore.
Oh, things'll pick
up, Oliver. Oh?
When's that to be,
Archie? Turn of the century?
Put that in your act, old fella.
Funniest line you've said tonight.
[Scattered Applause] Thank
you, thank you, thank you.
♪ [Ends]
Oliver Trumbull,
ladies and gentlemen.
And now, dear friends,
the gemstone of our
evening's diversion...
An interlude of melody from
that singular sweetheart of song,
that beauteous balladeer,
Mistress Emma Macgill!
♪ [Singing]
♪ [Singing Continues]
Is that it for tonight
then, Archie? Hmm?
Not wearing your fingers
out counting, are you?
We've done worse, Vi.
Have you talked to her?
I'll get to it. In time
for the next coronation.
Look, I've just come from Danny
Briggs. The offer still stands.
But he and his partners aren't
gonna wait forever. Don't tell me, Vi.
It's Her Ladyship standin' in the
way. You know what she says.
Look, your dad didn't leave you
his half of this old mausoleum...
just so's the tax people
could take it away.
They stopped wantin'
her kind of music years
ago. In a few months,
we'll have nothing.
All right. I'll talk to her.
Oh!
[Door Opens, Closes]
♪ [Singing Continues]
♪ [Ends]
[Applause]
Thank you, Bridget.
Oh, hello, Violet.
Rather a nice house tonight, don't
you think? Yes, ma'am. Quite nice.
[Emma] You know, if
this weather weren't so
ghastly, I think we'd
have done much better.
Right, that and have
Parliament black out the telly.
Oh, for pity's sake!
Television can't compare with the
sort of live entertainment that we provide.
Well, you're right about that.
But nothing goes on forever.
Even old Queen Victoria
found that out, she did.
If you're hinting that I
should retire— Oh, no, ma'am.
I passed by hintin'
around six years ago.
The plain truth
of the matter is...
it's time you packed it in,
started leadin' a proper life
while you've still got one to lead.
- Couldn't have said it better meself.
- I didn't hear you knock, Archie.
Like Bridget said, you
hear what you wanna hear.
Nor did I ask you to sit.
Now, look here,
old girl. Listen to me.
Me dad and you had a good
thing goin', but he's gone now.
Times have changed.
Archie, I know it's been hard,
but things will
change, you'll see.
Give us a few more months, at least
through summer. We haven't got till summer!
We've got an offer
now— A good offer!
No. I've never been a
quitter, and I won't be one now.
You've no sense,
Emma. None at all.
There you are. Here we go.
Thanks.
Good night, ma'am. Sir.
Good night, Bridget.
Good night, Bridget.
You were marvelous tonight.
Oh, Ollie, you say
that every night.
Thought we'd drop by the Ram's
Head. Oh, I could use a pint.
Did you see Kitty? I
thought I saw her backstage.
Is she in from Manchester?
School's on holiday
for a week. Mmm.
I wish she liked me
better, Ollie. Nonsense.
She adores you. Mmm.
We all heard about—
About Briggs's offer.
I expect the whole
world knows about that.
Now, look here, Em.
I've got a bit put aside—
Not much, but enough.
Now, you've given them 40 years.
It's about time you thought
about yourself and me.
Oh, Ollie, I love
you. I really do.
That's why I'm gonna do you
the favor of not marrying you.
That sounds a bit warped.
I don't want to turn two dear friends
into a couple of snarling alley cats.
I mean, this is our life,
not some cottage in
Dorchester tending roses.
Now, Em— Now, now, my dear.
Not another word. All
right? [Clicks Tongue]
Oh, damn! I left me
wallet back inside.
Excuse me, darling. I'll be
back in a jiffy. I'll meet you inside.
[Engine Starts, Tires Screech]
Emma! Emma!
It's all right. I'm all right.
I'm gonna call the police.
No, no, no. It was nothing.
It was just a drunk driver. Well,
stop fretting and buy me that pint.
[Engine Starts]
[Phone Ringing]
Yes? [Man] Hello. Mrs.
Jessica Fletcher, please.
Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.
My name's Ernest Fielding.
I'm a solicitor representing
Miss Emma Macgill.
Cousin Emma? Oh, I
haven't seen her for years.
I'm afraid, Mrs. Fletcher,
that I have to be the
bearer of distressing news.
Your cousin was involved in a
fatal auto accident two days ago.
Oh, Lord.
[Fielding] Now, Mrs. Fletcher, I
realize this is an imposition on you,
but in Emma's will, she
specifically requested...
that you attend the service.
[Man Over P.A.] Leisure
World Airways Flight 101...
now arriving from New York.
Leisure World Airways
Flight 101 now arriving—
Mrs. Fletcher? Yes.
Danny Briggs. I was acquainted
with your late cousin in a business way.
Welcome to London.
Why, thank you, Mr. Briggs.
I was hopin' you might
spare me a few minutes...
before you get tangled
up with the solicitor.
I'd like to talk to you
about the Mayhew.
The Mayhew? You
haven't been told then?
The music hall. You're
comin' into half of it.
Really? I had no
idea. But how did you...
Oh, I have my ways, ma'am.
Look, you'll be partners
now with Archie Weems.
I'm prepared to make you both a sweet
offer for the place— more than it's worth.
Mr. Briggs, I'm sorry. I've
come here for the services.
And, frankly, until I talk to Mr. Fielding,
this conversation is a little premature.
Really, Briggs!
Not now, all right?
We'll talk again, ma'am.
I'm terribly sorry about that.
It really is remarkable.
Ernest Fielding, Mrs. Fletcher.
I'd given you up for lost.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Here. Car's right
over here at the curb. Let me take that.
Thank you.
It's a great pleasure to meet you. I only
wish it were under different circumstances.
Believe me, so
do I. Here we are.
No, I'd rather sit up front with
you. I'd rather you sit in the back.
Mr. Fielding, you're not my
chauffeur. It'll be much easier to chat.
I really must insist.
[Emma] Jessica, please.
Emma!
Hello, cousin.
Welcome to London.
[Jessica] Emma, you've put
me through a terrible two days.
Oh, I'm sorry, Jessica, but I couldn't
let anybody know. It was too dangerous.
Dangerous? Emma,
what is going on?
Someone is trying
to kill me. Oh, Lord.
The first attempt
was two weeks ago.
My gas heater blew up just
after I returned home from church.
The following Sunday evening,
the rug at the top of
the stairs was loose,
and I barely managed
to keep from falling.
And this past Saturday, someone tried
to run me down right outside the theater.
But are you sure these
aren't just accidents?
Three incidents on three
successive weekends? Not likely, love.
And that's when,
with Ernest's help,
I ran my car over a bridge into
the river right near Portsmouth.
Nobody knows that I'm alive,
Jessica. Just the three of us.
Emma, this is ridiculous.
You must go to the
police. And tell them what?
I mean, with no proof, they'd write me off
as some old geezer gone off the deep end.
[Fielding] Emma's safe here. I've
leased the flat under an assumed name.
I'm a prudent
man, Mrs. Fletcher.
Carries an umbrella every day, even when
the sun's shining like a bright tuppence.
- One lump or two?
- Oh, just a little milk, please.
We're quite certain that
whoever's behind these attempts...
is frustrated by Emma's
refusal to sell the music hall.
Now, that would
include her partner Archie
Weems, his wife,
Violet, Oliver Trumbull...
Ridiculous. Oliver couldn't
possibly want to kill me.
But he might wish
to frighten you.
Remember, as long as you own the Mayhew,
he knows you have no intention of retiring.
Oh, I don't believe a word of it. If
you ask me, it's that man Briggs.
Briggs? Daniel Briggs?
He was waiting for
me at the airport...
to make an offer for my
share of the music hall...
which he said that I had
inherited after your death.
- Afraid that's my fault.
- But my idea.
I asked Ernest to spread it around
that you were becoming the new owner.
That way, I felt you
might have a better
chance of rooting out
who's behind all this.
Emma, you've set me up.
Oh, no, love. I've merely put you in a
position where you'd learn something.
Set you up, indeed.
Oh, what a ghastly idea.
I've scheduled a memorial service
for tomorrow morning at the Mayhew.
I'm hoping that your appearance
there will stir the waters.
Well, look, it's getting late.
Mr. Fielding, instead
of going to the hotel,
I'd appreciate a lift
to Scotland Yard.
The police? Oh, no, Jessica.
I don't trust them. Never did.
Well, there's one
that I can trust, Emma.
[Siren Wailing]
♪ [Humming]
Excuse me. Ah! May-May
I help you, madam?
Well, I was looking for Inspector
Kyle, but his office is locked.
Henry's off on
holiday, I'm afraid.
Something I might do for
you? Inspector Crimmins.
No, I-I-I don't think so,
Inspector. But thank you, anyway.
J.B. Fletcher.
Thought I knew that face the
minute you walked in the door.
Henry's told me
so much about you.
He says you're quite a
peach. He did? That's very nice.
Well, it takes a lot to
earn Henry's admiration.
Look, Mrs. Fletcher,
won't you come in?
You sure there isn't
something I can do for you?
Well, it's not official, Inspector.
But I'm sure you're very busy.
Busy? Not bloody likely.
New superintendent—
Arrogant young pup.
Think he's trying to force
me into early retirement.
He's just got me
shuffling traffic tickets.
Look, Mrs. Fletcher, you haven't
stumbled in here with a murder, have you?
Well, not exactly.
At least, not yet.
♪ [Organ]
Bridget.
♪ [Falters, Stops]
Lord help us. Emma!
Morning, Trumbull.
Let me introduce you. Emma's
cousin from the United States.
Mrs. Jessica Fletcher, Oliver
Trumbull. Well, how do you do?
I'm sorry, I— Forgive me.
For a moment, I thought...
I'm delighted to meet
you, Mr. Trumbull.
I wish it were under
different circumstances.
Yes, yes, quite so. Excuse me.
♪ [Resumes]
Forgive my father, Mrs. Fletcher. Your
resemblance to Emma is remarkable.
Almost frightening.
He and Emma were very close.
So I understand. Will
you excuse me a moment?
- Yes, of course.
- I'm Kitty Trumbull.
It's nice to meet you, Kitty.
Morning, all. That's a
bit of a shocker, Fielding.
She looks enough like
Emma to be her sister.
Yes, she does rather. Look here.
Have you talked to her? About
the place, I mean? Is she gonna sell?
Aren't you jumping the gun a
bit, Weems? May I remind you,
nothing can be done about the will
until after Emma's body's been recovered.
Recovered? Mmm!
Man, she was swept out to sea by
that river. They may never find her body.
[Crimmins] Excuse me! ♪ [Stops]
Could I have everybody's
attention, please?
If you'd just like
to gather round.
Forgive the intrusion.
I'm Inspector Roger
Crimmins of Scotland Yard.
I'd like to speak to the next of
kin of the late Miss Emma Macgill.
I am Emma's cousin,
Inspector. Jessica Fletcher.
Mrs. Fletcher, I
regret to tell you...
Miss Macgill's body was
recovered from the beach...
early this morning
near Portsmouth.
Inspector, there's
no doubt then?
Oh, here. There's
always some doubt.
That's why I must ask Mrs. Fletcher
to accompany me to identify the body.
Ernest Fielding, Inspector.
Miss Macgill's solicitor.
May I suggest that we spare
Mrs. Fletcher that grueling
ordeal? Permit me to
make the identification, eh?
Mmm. As you wish.
Beggin' your
pardon, Mr. Fielding.
Bridget O'Hara. I rang
you up twice yesterday.
I don't wish to
appear unseemly, sir,
but the mistress promised
that I would be remembered...
after she was gone.
Miss O'Hara, I feel quite certain that
this is neither the time nor the place.
Didn't waste much time
taking over, did you?
Oh, I'm not taking
over, Miss O'Hara.
No skin off my
nose, as they say.
You'll be getting it all anyway,
except that which is
specified for others...
Those of us who
were close to her.
Oh, believe me, I didn't
come here to take anything.
More than 30 years I
tended to her needs.
But I suppose blood is
thicker than water, as they say.
Uh, Miss O'Hara— Bridget...
I know that you were loyal to my
cousin, and I feel that I can trust you.
A week ago, Emma phoned me.
She told me that she was almost
killed in a series of accidents.
You don't seem surprised.
I said we were close, ma'am.
I knew things were happenin'
even when she wouldn't talk about it.
It started a few weeks back, right
after she got the offer to sell this place.
To Danny Briggs?
Danny Briggs—as poor a
piece of work as God ever made.
"Impresario," he calls himself.
Young hustler if you ask me.
Wants to turn this lovely old place
into a "rock palace," I think they call it.
Well, naturally, herself
wouldn't even consider it.
Archie Weems must
have been furious.
Are you suggestin'
that Archie is a killer?
[Chuckles] Not likely.
Wouldn't have the stomach for it.
But his wife, Violet...
Now, there's one who'd make
Lady Macbeth seem like a flower girl.
Good manhood, be not forgot
upon the face of the earth,
then I am a shotten
herring! [Chuckles]
There lives but—
Break a leg, sir.
Thank you, Bridget.
You look absolutely
smashing. Ah.
I feel like a soggy tea bag.
I don't know about all this.
It's been a while, you know.
Machinery's gettin' a bit rusty.
Dad, you're going to be wonderful.
Hello.
Hello, Mrs. Fletcher. Wondered
where you'd popped off to.
Well, I've just been poking around.
This is such a fascinating old place.
I wonder, you two wouldn't
have a few minutes, would you?
There's so much I'd
like to catch up on.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but
Dad has an appointment, and...
Oh, Kitty. Dad,
we're late already.
Give us a moment.
Forgive that snap in
her voice, Mrs. Fletcher.
Sometimes, Kitty's
like a faithful watchdog.
Well, it's obvious that
she adores you. [Chuckles]
Look here. If I'm a bit
standoffish, I do apologize.
It's just the resemblance
to Emma is so remarkable.
I'm sorry. I'm making a bit of
a fool of myself. Kitty's right.
After 15 years, it's
time I got on with me life.
Dad!
If you'll excuse me.
Taxi!
[Kitty] You're
nervous. Don't be.
I'm not nervous.
Look, darling, would you mind if I
go to this director's office by myself?
Are you sure? I
don't mind, really.
Auditioning at my age.
It's positively
humiliating. All right.
Look, I thought I'd check
out some travel agents.
Next weekend, you and I should get
away. Maybe a little inn near Brighton.
Sounds like marvelous
fun. Call you this evening.
Right, well, call me
if you hear anything.
Mrs. Fletcher? Oh,
no. No more, thanks.
Inspector, you don't suppose
whoever's behind this...
suspects what we're up to?
Oh, I shouldn't think so. I
think our would-be killer...
thinks Emma Macgill really
did have that fatal accident.
His or her guard should be down.
But not Emma's, I hope.
You know, I really worry
about her being in that
Streatham hideaway.
She's perfectly safe.
Fielding's with her.
You know, maybe we ought to take
a look around the Chelsea Road flat.
I mean, we might find something— a
clue, a lead, anything. What sort of clue?
Well, I haven't
the vaguest idea.
That's the house.
[Jessica] Look!
Oh! Lord!
Keep back! I'm a police officer.
It's Bridget O'Hara.
[Crimmins] Her name
is Bridget O'Hara.
She works as a dresser
at the Mayhew Theater.
She was struck by a
small sports car, yellow.
Excuse me, Inspector. We've
got Mr. Fielding on the line.
The ambulance is on the
way, sir. Right. Carry on.
Jessica.
Hello, Mr. Fielding?
Inspector Crimmins here.
Afraid I've got some very bad news.
Bridget O'Hara's been killed by a car.
Oh, no. Really?
Poor woman. What-What do you
think? Do you think it was an accident?
There's no question
it was deliberate.
I'm afraid this deception
has gone far enough.
I'd like you and Miss Macgill at
my office as soon as possible.
Mrs. Fletcher. Oh, Mr. Weems.
Bridget. I can't believe it.
Run down in the
street. Deliberate too.
Yes, I'm afraid it was.
Look here. Tell me straight.
I hear Emma's okay— that there never
was no accident. And who told you that?
Sergeant pal of mine tells me
just now when he sees me come in.
Well, it's true. Emma is alive.
Bloody hell. What's going on?
The coat that Bridget was wearing— In
the lining, there were the initials "E.M."
Bridget was leaving Emma's
house wearing Emma's coat.
In the darkness, the killer
probably assumed that it was Emma.
I'm puzzled.
Why was Bridget
wearing Emma's coat?
Wouldn't know, unless— Was it
by chance Emma's leopard coat?
Yes, it was. Sure. I get it.
Emma promised that coat to
Bridget. There was no secret about it.
Maybe Bridget decided to grab it before
the lawyers started muckin' things up.
A very reasonable explanation, Mr. Weems.
May I ask what you're doing here?
It's no secret.
Pal of mine on the Standard
told me about Bridget.
I also got tipped you've got Emma
stashed away healthy as you please.
I'd keep that
information to yourself.
Come on, Jessica.
We're paying a visit.
To Emma? Do you
mind if I tag along?
Like to see how the old
girl's doing. Ah, Sgt. Barbury.
This gentleman has a statement
to make in the O'Hara accident.
Take it all down, will you?
Shouldn't take more than a half hour.
Right. Here, you can't do this!
This way, sir. What happened?
I thought that Emma
was gonna meet us here.
Fielding called. Says she's
terrified to leave the flat.
I did promise that
coat to Bridget.
But why did she feel
she had to take it?
She must have thought
she'd been left out of the will.
And so the killer, seeing her hurry
down the steps wearing the leopard coat,
assumed Bridget was Emma, and—
The question is, Inspector,
why make that assumption?
Everyone believed
that Emma was dead.
The killer must have
known that Emma was alive.
Are you suggesting
I was indiscreet?
Security has been
breached by someone.
Emma?
Oh, Jessica, I— I
feel like such a fool.
Then you did talk to someone.
Well, uh, not directly.
I was so worried about Oliver,
especially after Ernest told me
he was so poorly about everything.
I called him up at the flat and left a
message on his answering machine.
Oh, bloody marvelous!
Now, Oliver wouldn't harm me.
No, but he might have dropped a
careless word to somebody else.
And before you knew it, half of
London's in on our little secret.
I don't suppose you told him
this address? Well, of course not!
- Thank God for that.
- Inspector, aren't we getting
a little ahead of ourselves?
After all, we don't know that
Oliver heard the message.
Huh. What's his address?
84 Cumberland Mews. Mm-hmm.
Jessica, we better
pay him a visit.
I'll also be posting a 24-hour
surveillance outside these premises.
Is that necessary? Oh, it is.
Not only for Miss Macgill's
protection, but on the odd chance...
that our killer makes another
attempt, we'll be waiting for him.
Where is he? Archie'll be here.
Taking his own
sweet time about it.
Look, if this is
another stall...
I only know what he said. "Call
Danny Briggs," he says. "I've got news."
Well, maybe he's made some arrangement
with that American cousin. Funny.
I got the feeling she wouldn't
be an easy nut to crack.
She's got no use for this place.
And with a handsome
profit to be made, she'll
sell. [Archie] I wouldn't
count on that, love.
She's alive. Who?
Emma! Who'd you think I meant?
- Oh, that's crazy, Archie.
- She's hiding out.
The whole thing was a
stunt. Seems someone's
been trying to put
her away. Not me.
I said "someone,"
Briggs. I named no names.
But I warn you, I
draw the line at murder.
So do I, Archie.
But I'm gonna have that
woman's signature on a contract.
My partners can be very
unpleasant gentlemen, even violent.
And if someone's gonna
get hurt, it won't be me.
Fact is, I haven't seen
Mr. Trumbull since early this morning.
He was off to services at the
theater, of all places. Mm-hmm.
Some people got no
sense of propriety. Yeah.
And you say he's not
returned here all day?
Said I hadn't heard
him. 'Course, I been
back in the kitchen a
lot watchin' the telly.
Many's a tenant comes
and goes without me knowin'.
Hasn't done anything
wrong, has he, Sergeant?
I do like the old chap. Yeah,
actually, it's, uh, Inspector.
Oh! And we'll let ourselves out.
No need to get testy, sir. I can take
a hint. Right. Thank you very much.
[Jessica] Look
at this, Inspector.
Hmm?
The Southgate Theater,
about 20 years ago.
"Oliver Trumbull as King Lear."
[Crimmins]
Shakespearean actor, eh?
Hardly seems possible.
Let's take a listen to this
answering device, shall we?
Trumbull? Ned Wiley here.
Sorry I missed
you at the office.
About the audition.
We're pretty much cast.
But if you would like to
pop into the lobby of the
Cumberland around
9:00, I'll have a look at you.
No promises, of
course. It's up to you.
- [Tape Rewinding]
- Emma's call must be earlier.
Mmm.
[Emma] Oliver, it's me, love.
I heard about how upset
you were this morning,
and I'm dreadfully sorry
to put you through this.
I'm safe and well, and
that's all I can say for now.
Please don't tell anyone you've heard
from me, or I'll be in terrible danger.
[Oliver] Go thy ways, old Jack.
Die if thou wilt.
If manhood, good
manhood, be not forgot...
Excuse me, young man.
I'll just consult the text.
Yes, but please hurry.
Not to worry, dear boy.
Just a momentary lapse.
I have it.
Uh, if— [Muttering]
If manhood— If
manhood, good manhood,
be not forgot upon the face of the
earth, then I am a shotten herring.
There lives but three good
men unhanged in England.
One of 'em's fat...
and grows old.
Yes, yes. Thank
you, Mr. Trumbull.
I have not finished!
I've heard quite enough, thanks.
Young man, you paid me the
courtesy to give me an audition.
You don't have the
manners to hear me out?
Look, old-timer, courtesy
had nothing to do with it.
You accost me in my hotel
lobby. You plead for a tryout.
Well, you got one, and,
frankly, you won't do.
Oh, some years ago, I'm sure you
would have made an adequate Falstaff.
Adequate?
Doth my Lord comfort me?
Came he right now
to sing a raven's note,
whose dismal tune
bereft my vital powers.
And thinks he that
the chirping of a wren...
by crying comfort
from a hollow breast...
could chase away the
first conceived sound!
Hide not thy poison
with such sugared words.
Oh! Lay not thy hands on me!
Forbear, I say!
Their touch affrights
me as a serpent's sting!
All right, everyone. Places,
places for the first scene.
Dad! Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.
Forgive me. I'm distressed you were
witness to such an embarrassment.
Oh, Mr. Trumbull, the embarrassment
was not yours, believe me.
You were magnificent. [Chuckles]
Magnificent and unemployed.
Is there somewhere
we can go and talk?
As it so happens, there's a
friendly pub just round the corner.
Follow me, ladies.
Emma—alive? Very much alive.
Mrs. Fletcher, is this
some sort of a joke?
That inspector said her body had been
washed up on a beach near Portsmouth.
Well, Inspector Crimmins was
helping us to create an illusion.
Emma's in hiding under
the protection of the police.
You see, over the past few weeks, several
attempts have been made on her life.
That car in the alleyway.
I knew that was no
accident. Jessica, I
must see her immediately.
Well, I'm afraid
that is not possible.
The hell you say. Dad!
Kitty, keep out of this.
Forgive me, madam.
But first, you tell me that Bridget
O'Hara was killed last night.
And then, as if that
were not enough,
you suddenly reincarnate
dear Emma from a watery grave.
I call that bloody unfeeling
of you! Dad, calm down.
[Jessica]
Mr. Trumbull, I'm sorry,
but I'm surprised that you
didn't know that Emma was alive.
After all, she telephoned
you late yesterday.
- What?
- The message was on
your answering machine.
I didn't hear it. I
didn't go home.
Oh?
I spent the afternoon cooling me
heels in the office of that fool director.
When I didn't get to see him, I
camped out in the hotel lobby.
When finally I managed to collar him, I
practically begged him for an audition.
He didn't remember
my Romeo at the Globe.
Mind you, it was some years ago.
I found him in the
lounge around 12:30,
half awake, a room key
dangling from his pocket.
It was the only way I could get a
drink after 11:00. I booked a room.
So I put him to bed for
the rest of the night. I see.
So you went directly from the
director's office to the hotel lobby,
then to the lounge,
and then to bed?
Dull but true. I'm
sorry, Mr. Trumbull.
I heard that taped
message from the director
asking you to meet
him in the hotel lobby.
Now, that was on the same tape as
Emma saying that she was alive and well.
I mean, you couldn't possibly
have heard one and not the other.
My thoughts precisely.
Oliver Trumbull, I'm
placing you under arrest...
for the murder of
Bridget O'Hara. No!
I'm sorry, miss. Officer.
[Crimmins] Bridget O'Hara
was struck by that car at 8:15.
The director suggested you
meet him at the hotel lobby at 9:00.
Is that right?
Yes! I told you so!
Well, that's a
difference of 45 minutes.
Ample time for you to get from
Chelsea Road to the Cumberland.
I told you. I did not
hear that message!
Oh, yeah. You just
happened to be at the hotel.
I overheard his secretary
book a table for him...
in the Cumberland
Hotel dining room.
I knew if I waited in
the lobby long enough,
he'd be bound to show up.
I was there from
7:30 till 11:00,
which can be verified by
the porter and the concierge.
I was paged for a phone
call from me daughter.
They remember the call,
Mr. Trumbull, and they remember you.
But they can't verify
the time you were there.
[Knocks] Come in.
This is a ghastly joke.
Oliver loved Emma.
He'd never try to hurt her.
I wish I could believe that.
You would if you knew him.
Do you know how
hard this is for me?
Very sorry, Kitty.
Your father will be formally
charged tomorrow morning.
No! He was in the hotel!
I phoned him there at 8:00.
There's no way he could have
been in two places at once.
The concierge confirmed your
call, Miss Trumbull. 9:00, not 8:00.
- He's wrong.
- Kitty, lying will not help the problem.
I have an appointment in an hour with
a very capable barrister. A fine fellow.
Believe me, your father will
have the best defense possible.
May I see him?
Yes. All right. Step this way.
Inspector, I'd like
to talk to Emma.
Yeah. Might be a good idea.
[Tires Screeching] [Crash]
Here! What's the matter
with you? Are you blind?
Did you see? You ran right into the
back of— Where did you learn how to drive?
[Archie] Get your hands off me!
[Voices Overlapping]
I'm a police officer.
Who is it? Constable
Barnes, Miss Macgill.
Oh!
Take it easy. I don't
wanna hurt you.
I just wanna talk. We've
nothing to talk about, Mr. Briggs.
Oh, we do, lady.
Plenty. Except talk's
not all I've come for.
The time for playin'
games is over.
I'm here to get your signature
on this bill of sale. Oh, no!
Don't tell me "no"!
I've got people to answer to...
People that'll peel away
my hide if I don't deliver!
So you'll sign.
Oh, you will sign,
or I'll get the place from your
cousin after you're dead and gone.
[Voices Overlapping]
Who's gonna pay for
my bleeding car? Not me!
You need a seeing
eye dog, you do.
I want you to wait here
for about five minutes.
Inspector!
Emma?
Emma, it’s Jessica! Jessica!
- Shut up!
- Emma!
Get back. Miss Macgill?
Inspector Crimmins. Open up.
- Emma?
- I'm all right, Jessica,
but I can't say the same for him.
[Chuckles] Well
done, Miss Macgill.
Thompson.
A nice bit of work.
Or, perhaps not.
[Emma] Well,
what is it, Jessica?
Yeah. We've got our man.
You should be delighted.
Our man? No, Inspector.
I'm sorry to say we don't.
[Sighs]
Jessica, I'm not sure how
you arranged me release, but...
Oh! I shall be
eternally grateful.
Well, thank Inspector
Crimmins. It was his decision.
Seventeen years
I've trod these boards.
Oh, it was grand,
especially back then...
when they knew
that we were here.
This old place would sing
with laughter and music...
and music.
[Kitty] Dad!
Oh, Kitty, darlin'. There, now.
I can't believe it. They let
you go. That's right, Kitty.
We've identified the real
killer of Bridget O'Hara.
Identified? Not arrested?
Not yet.
You see, both the
inspector and I would
like the killer to come
forward voluntarily.
It will make things so
much easier for her.
Her?
But I thought that Danny Briggs
was the one who— No, not Danny.
The killer was someone else...
Someone who had a very personal
reason for killing Emma Macgill...
and ran down Bridget in the mistaken
belief that she was killing Emma.
What's all this about?
You see, one thing
seemed strange about
those three earlier
attempts on Emma's life.
They happened on
consecutive weekends,
as if they had been
attempted by someone who
worked and lived
elsewhere during the week.
You telephoned your father
at the Cumberland, Kitty.
- The concierge said 9:00?
- He's a liar. I called at 8:00.
8:00 or 9:00 is not the point.
How did you know
where to find him?
What?
You did not go with him
to the director's office.
You went shopping, and then to the travel
agent to arrange your seaside holiday.
There's no possible way
you could have known that
he was going to be in the
lobby of the Cumberland...
unless you had heard
that phone message.
- Kitty?
- Don't listen to her! Dad...
Jessica. I'm so sorry, Oliver.
This gives me no
pleasure, believe me.
But, you see, if Kitty had
heard that director's message,
then she must have also
heard Emma's message.
Now, she had no way of knowing that
Emma was hiding out at the Streatham flat,
so she drove to Emma's
Chelsea Road house.
As she arrived, Bridget—
Dressed in Emma's coat...
Came out and started
across the street.
All right!
All right.
Why, Kitty?
Emma never harmed you.
But she was destroying you,
Dad. Or couldn't you see it?
You were so magnificent...
with a God-given gift
that you-you prostituted...
to become a second-rate
music hall comic.
You couldn't break away.
Every year, you got weaker
and more dependent...
while I stood there and watched.
You couldn't help
yourself, Dad. But I could.
Don't you see?
I had to kill her...
for you.
Kitty.
And I wouldn't have
let you go to jail, I swear.
I know that,
darlin'. I know that.
Oh, Dad.
Oh, Kitty.
on this bill of sale. Oh, no.
Don't tell me "no"!
The "great lady" will still
be out on that stage a dozen
years from now, my dad
still kissing her pinky ring.
[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.
Your cousin was involved
in a fatal auto accident.
I told you. I did not
hear that message!
- In a few months, we'll have nothing.
- I'll talk to her!
[Woman] Your resemblance
to Emma's remarkable.
Now, there's one who would make
Lady Macbeth seem like a flower girl.
Inspector!
[Horns Honking]
[Man] Tell me, ain't I right?
A bloke never gets in
trouble chasing women.
It's after they're caught
the trouble begins.
[Chuckles]
I just got this
letter from a man.
Says if I don't stay away from
his wife, he's gonna shoot me.
Ruddy mess he's put me in. He
didn't sign it. [Scattered Chuckles]
Am I keeping you up then, mate?
Slumber time, eh?
Hello there, lady. Having
trouble with your trumpet?
A bit too loud for you, eh?
You like this suit? It was
a surprise from my wife.
I came home one night and found it hanging
on the back of a chair in the bedroom.
My wife used to shop
in three or four stores.
The bills were ungodly dear.
Now the bills are much smaller.
She shops in 30 or 40 stores.
[Chuckles] I said to my wife— I
said, "You ought to be in Parliament.
You bring so many
bills into the house."
Hello, Kitty. Bit of a
surprise seeing you here.
School's on holiday. Ah.
Your dad seems a bit off the mark tonight.
Did he tell you we've had an offer?
You've had offers before,
Archie. She won't sell.
Can't keep up this way. No?
Somehow, I think
the "great lady" will still
be out on that stage a
dozen years from now...
singing the same songs,
my dad still kissing
her pinky ring.
One day, he's got
the wolf at the door.
The next day, his
wife's wearin' a fur coat.
Ah, Miss Kitty. There's a
fine surprise seein' you here.
Hello, Bridget. And how
are the little children?
Learnin' their
lessons well, are they?
♪ [Vaudeville]
House full of ruddy corpses! They
can damn well do without my encore.
Oh, things'll pick
up, Oliver. Oh?
When's that to be,
Archie? Turn of the century?
Put that in your act, old fella.
Funniest line you've said tonight.
[Scattered Applause] Thank
you, thank you, thank you.
♪ [Ends]
Oliver Trumbull,
ladies and gentlemen.
And now, dear friends,
the gemstone of our
evening's diversion...
An interlude of melody from
that singular sweetheart of song,
that beauteous balladeer,
Mistress Emma Macgill!
♪ [Singing]
♪ [Singing Continues]
Is that it for tonight
then, Archie? Hmm?
Not wearing your fingers
out counting, are you?
We've done worse, Vi.
Have you talked to her?
I'll get to it. In time
for the next coronation.
Look, I've just come from Danny
Briggs. The offer still stands.
But he and his partners aren't
gonna wait forever. Don't tell me, Vi.
It's Her Ladyship standin' in the
way. You know what she says.
Look, your dad didn't leave you
his half of this old mausoleum...
just so's the tax people
could take it away.
They stopped wantin'
her kind of music years
ago. In a few months,
we'll have nothing.
All right. I'll talk to her.
Oh!
[Door Opens, Closes]
♪ [Singing Continues]
♪ [Ends]
[Applause]
Thank you, Bridget.
Oh, hello, Violet.
Rather a nice house tonight, don't
you think? Yes, ma'am. Quite nice.
[Emma] You know, if
this weather weren't so
ghastly, I think we'd
have done much better.
Right, that and have
Parliament black out the telly.
Oh, for pity's sake!
Television can't compare with the
sort of live entertainment that we provide.
Well, you're right about that.
But nothing goes on forever.
Even old Queen Victoria
found that out, she did.
If you're hinting that I
should retire— Oh, no, ma'am.
I passed by hintin'
around six years ago.
The plain truth
of the matter is...
it's time you packed it in,
started leadin' a proper life
while you've still got one to lead.
- Couldn't have said it better meself.
- I didn't hear you knock, Archie.
Like Bridget said, you
hear what you wanna hear.
Nor did I ask you to sit.
Now, look here,
old girl. Listen to me.
Me dad and you had a good
thing goin', but he's gone now.
Times have changed.
Archie, I know it's been hard,
but things will
change, you'll see.
Give us a few more months, at least
through summer. We haven't got till summer!
We've got an offer
now— A good offer!
No. I've never been a
quitter, and I won't be one now.
You've no sense,
Emma. None at all.
There you are. Here we go.
Thanks.
Good night, ma'am. Sir.
Good night, Bridget.
Good night, Bridget.
You were marvelous tonight.
Oh, Ollie, you say
that every night.
Thought we'd drop by the Ram's
Head. Oh, I could use a pint.
Did you see Kitty? I
thought I saw her backstage.
Is she in from Manchester?
School's on holiday
for a week. Mmm.
I wish she liked me
better, Ollie. Nonsense.
She adores you. Mmm.
We all heard about—
About Briggs's offer.
I expect the whole
world knows about that.
Now, look here, Em.
I've got a bit put aside—
Not much, but enough.
Now, you've given them 40 years.
It's about time you thought
about yourself and me.
Oh, Ollie, I love
you. I really do.
That's why I'm gonna do you
the favor of not marrying you.
That sounds a bit warped.
I don't want to turn two dear friends
into a couple of snarling alley cats.
I mean, this is our life,
not some cottage in
Dorchester tending roses.
Now, Em— Now, now, my dear.
Not another word. All
right? [Clicks Tongue]
Oh, damn! I left me
wallet back inside.
Excuse me, darling. I'll be
back in a jiffy. I'll meet you inside.
[Engine Starts, Tires Screech]
Emma! Emma!
It's all right. I'm all right.
I'm gonna call the police.
No, no, no. It was nothing.
It was just a drunk driver. Well,
stop fretting and buy me that pint.
[Engine Starts]
[Phone Ringing]
Yes? [Man] Hello. Mrs.
Jessica Fletcher, please.
Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.
My name's Ernest Fielding.
I'm a solicitor representing
Miss Emma Macgill.
Cousin Emma? Oh, I
haven't seen her for years.
I'm afraid, Mrs. Fletcher,
that I have to be the
bearer of distressing news.
Your cousin was involved in a
fatal auto accident two days ago.
Oh, Lord.
[Fielding] Now, Mrs. Fletcher, I
realize this is an imposition on you,
but in Emma's will, she
specifically requested...
that you attend the service.
[Man Over P.A.] Leisure
World Airways Flight 101...
now arriving from New York.
Leisure World Airways
Flight 101 now arriving—
Mrs. Fletcher? Yes.
Danny Briggs. I was acquainted
with your late cousin in a business way.
Welcome to London.
Why, thank you, Mr. Briggs.
I was hopin' you might
spare me a few minutes...
before you get tangled
up with the solicitor.
I'd like to talk to you
about the Mayhew.
The Mayhew? You
haven't been told then?
The music hall. You're
comin' into half of it.
Really? I had no
idea. But how did you...
Oh, I have my ways, ma'am.
Look, you'll be partners
now with Archie Weems.
I'm prepared to make you both a sweet
offer for the place— more than it's worth.
Mr. Briggs, I'm sorry. I've
come here for the services.
And, frankly, until I talk to Mr. Fielding,
this conversation is a little premature.
Really, Briggs!
Not now, all right?
We'll talk again, ma'am.
I'm terribly sorry about that.
It really is remarkable.
Ernest Fielding, Mrs. Fletcher.
I'd given you up for lost.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Here. Car's right
over here at the curb. Let me take that.
Thank you.
It's a great pleasure to meet you. I only
wish it were under different circumstances.
Believe me, so
do I. Here we are.
No, I'd rather sit up front with
you. I'd rather you sit in the back.
Mr. Fielding, you're not my
chauffeur. It'll be much easier to chat.
I really must insist.
[Emma] Jessica, please.
Emma!
Hello, cousin.
Welcome to London.
[Jessica] Emma, you've put
me through a terrible two days.
Oh, I'm sorry, Jessica, but I couldn't
let anybody know. It was too dangerous.
Dangerous? Emma,
what is going on?
Someone is trying
to kill me. Oh, Lord.
The first attempt
was two weeks ago.
My gas heater blew up just
after I returned home from church.
The following Sunday evening,
the rug at the top of
the stairs was loose,
and I barely managed
to keep from falling.
And this past Saturday, someone tried
to run me down right outside the theater.
But are you sure these
aren't just accidents?
Three incidents on three
successive weekends? Not likely, love.
And that's when,
with Ernest's help,
I ran my car over a bridge into
the river right near Portsmouth.
Nobody knows that I'm alive,
Jessica. Just the three of us.
Emma, this is ridiculous.
You must go to the
police. And tell them what?
I mean, with no proof, they'd write me off
as some old geezer gone off the deep end.
[Fielding] Emma's safe here. I've
leased the flat under an assumed name.
I'm a prudent
man, Mrs. Fletcher.
Carries an umbrella every day, even when
the sun's shining like a bright tuppence.
- One lump or two?
- Oh, just a little milk, please.
We're quite certain that
whoever's behind these attempts...
is frustrated by Emma's
refusal to sell the music hall.
Now, that would
include her partner Archie
Weems, his wife,
Violet, Oliver Trumbull...
Ridiculous. Oliver couldn't
possibly want to kill me.
But he might wish
to frighten you.
Remember, as long as you own the Mayhew,
he knows you have no intention of retiring.
Oh, I don't believe a word of it. If
you ask me, it's that man Briggs.
Briggs? Daniel Briggs?
He was waiting for
me at the airport...
to make an offer for my
share of the music hall...
which he said that I had
inherited after your death.
- Afraid that's my fault.
- But my idea.
I asked Ernest to spread it around
that you were becoming the new owner.
That way, I felt you
might have a better
chance of rooting out
who's behind all this.
Emma, you've set me up.
Oh, no, love. I've merely put you in a
position where you'd learn something.
Set you up, indeed.
Oh, what a ghastly idea.
I've scheduled a memorial service
for tomorrow morning at the Mayhew.
I'm hoping that your appearance
there will stir the waters.
Well, look, it's getting late.
Mr. Fielding, instead
of going to the hotel,
I'd appreciate a lift
to Scotland Yard.
The police? Oh, no, Jessica.
I don't trust them. Never did.
Well, there's one
that I can trust, Emma.
[Siren Wailing]
♪ [Humming]
Excuse me. Ah! May-May
I help you, madam?
Well, I was looking for Inspector
Kyle, but his office is locked.
Henry's off on
holiday, I'm afraid.
Something I might do for
you? Inspector Crimmins.
No, I-I-I don't think so,
Inspector. But thank you, anyway.
J.B. Fletcher.
Thought I knew that face the
minute you walked in the door.
Henry's told me
so much about you.
He says you're quite a
peach. He did? That's very nice.
Well, it takes a lot to
earn Henry's admiration.
Look, Mrs. Fletcher,
won't you come in?
You sure there isn't
something I can do for you?
Well, it's not official, Inspector.
But I'm sure you're very busy.
Busy? Not bloody likely.
New superintendent—
Arrogant young pup.
Think he's trying to force
me into early retirement.
He's just got me
shuffling traffic tickets.
Look, Mrs. Fletcher, you haven't
stumbled in here with a murder, have you?
Well, not exactly.
At least, not yet.
♪ [Organ]
Bridget.
♪ [Falters, Stops]
Lord help us. Emma!
Morning, Trumbull.
Let me introduce you. Emma's
cousin from the United States.
Mrs. Jessica Fletcher, Oliver
Trumbull. Well, how do you do?
I'm sorry, I— Forgive me.
For a moment, I thought...
I'm delighted to meet
you, Mr. Trumbull.
I wish it were under
different circumstances.
Yes, yes, quite so. Excuse me.
♪ [Resumes]
Forgive my father, Mrs. Fletcher. Your
resemblance to Emma is remarkable.
Almost frightening.
He and Emma were very close.
So I understand. Will
you excuse me a moment?
- Yes, of course.
- I'm Kitty Trumbull.
It's nice to meet you, Kitty.
Morning, all. That's a
bit of a shocker, Fielding.
She looks enough like
Emma to be her sister.
Yes, she does rather. Look here.
Have you talked to her? About
the place, I mean? Is she gonna sell?
Aren't you jumping the gun a
bit, Weems? May I remind you,
nothing can be done about the will
until after Emma's body's been recovered.
Recovered? Mmm!
Man, she was swept out to sea by
that river. They may never find her body.
[Crimmins] Excuse me! ♪ [Stops]
Could I have everybody's
attention, please?
If you'd just like
to gather round.
Forgive the intrusion.
I'm Inspector Roger
Crimmins of Scotland Yard.
I'd like to speak to the next of
kin of the late Miss Emma Macgill.
I am Emma's cousin,
Inspector. Jessica Fletcher.
Mrs. Fletcher, I
regret to tell you...
Miss Macgill's body was
recovered from the beach...
early this morning
near Portsmouth.
Inspector, there's
no doubt then?
Oh, here. There's
always some doubt.
That's why I must ask Mrs. Fletcher
to accompany me to identify the body.
Ernest Fielding, Inspector.
Miss Macgill's solicitor.
May I suggest that we spare
Mrs. Fletcher that grueling
ordeal? Permit me to
make the identification, eh?
Mmm. As you wish.
Beggin' your
pardon, Mr. Fielding.
Bridget O'Hara. I rang
you up twice yesterday.
I don't wish to
appear unseemly, sir,
but the mistress promised
that I would be remembered...
after she was gone.
Miss O'Hara, I feel quite certain that
this is neither the time nor the place.
Didn't waste much time
taking over, did you?
Oh, I'm not taking
over, Miss O'Hara.
No skin off my
nose, as they say.
You'll be getting it all anyway,
except that which is
specified for others...
Those of us who
were close to her.
Oh, believe me, I didn't
come here to take anything.
More than 30 years I
tended to her needs.
But I suppose blood is
thicker than water, as they say.
Uh, Miss O'Hara— Bridget...
I know that you were loyal to my
cousin, and I feel that I can trust you.
A week ago, Emma phoned me.
She told me that she was almost
killed in a series of accidents.
You don't seem surprised.
I said we were close, ma'am.
I knew things were happenin'
even when she wouldn't talk about it.
It started a few weeks back, right
after she got the offer to sell this place.
To Danny Briggs?
Danny Briggs—as poor a
piece of work as God ever made.
"Impresario," he calls himself.
Young hustler if you ask me.
Wants to turn this lovely old place
into a "rock palace," I think they call it.
Well, naturally, herself
wouldn't even consider it.
Archie Weems must
have been furious.
Are you suggestin'
that Archie is a killer?
[Chuckles] Not likely.
Wouldn't have the stomach for it.
But his wife, Violet...
Now, there's one who'd make
Lady Macbeth seem like a flower girl.
Good manhood, be not forgot
upon the face of the earth,
then I am a shotten
herring! [Chuckles]
There lives but—
Break a leg, sir.
Thank you, Bridget.
You look absolutely
smashing. Ah.
I feel like a soggy tea bag.
I don't know about all this.
It's been a while, you know.
Machinery's gettin' a bit rusty.
Dad, you're going to be wonderful.
Hello.
Hello, Mrs. Fletcher. Wondered
where you'd popped off to.
Well, I've just been poking around.
This is such a fascinating old place.
I wonder, you two wouldn't
have a few minutes, would you?
There's so much I'd
like to catch up on.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, but
Dad has an appointment, and...
Oh, Kitty. Dad,
we're late already.
Give us a moment.
Forgive that snap in
her voice, Mrs. Fletcher.
Sometimes, Kitty's
like a faithful watchdog.
Well, it's obvious that
she adores you. [Chuckles]
Look here. If I'm a bit
standoffish, I do apologize.
It's just the resemblance
to Emma is so remarkable.
I'm sorry. I'm making a bit of
a fool of myself. Kitty's right.
After 15 years, it's
time I got on with me life.
Dad!
If you'll excuse me.
Taxi!
[Kitty] You're
nervous. Don't be.
I'm not nervous.
Look, darling, would you mind if I
go to this director's office by myself?
Are you sure? I
don't mind, really.
Auditioning at my age.
It's positively
humiliating. All right.
Look, I thought I'd check
out some travel agents.
Next weekend, you and I should get
away. Maybe a little inn near Brighton.
Sounds like marvelous
fun. Call you this evening.
Right, well, call me
if you hear anything.
Mrs. Fletcher? Oh,
no. No more, thanks.
Inspector, you don't suppose
whoever's behind this...
suspects what we're up to?
Oh, I shouldn't think so. I
think our would-be killer...
thinks Emma Macgill really
did have that fatal accident.
His or her guard should be down.
But not Emma's, I hope.
You know, I really worry
about her being in that
Streatham hideaway.
She's perfectly safe.
Fielding's with her.
You know, maybe we ought to take
a look around the Chelsea Road flat.
I mean, we might find something— a
clue, a lead, anything. What sort of clue?
Well, I haven't
the vaguest idea.
That's the house.
[Jessica] Look!
Oh! Lord!
Keep back! I'm a police officer.
It's Bridget O'Hara.
[Crimmins] Her name
is Bridget O'Hara.
She works as a dresser
at the Mayhew Theater.
She was struck by a
small sports car, yellow.
Excuse me, Inspector. We've
got Mr. Fielding on the line.
The ambulance is on the
way, sir. Right. Carry on.
Jessica.
Hello, Mr. Fielding?
Inspector Crimmins here.
Afraid I've got some very bad news.
Bridget O'Hara's been killed by a car.
Oh, no. Really?
Poor woman. What-What do you
think? Do you think it was an accident?
There's no question
it was deliberate.
I'm afraid this deception
has gone far enough.
I'd like you and Miss Macgill at
my office as soon as possible.
Mrs. Fletcher. Oh, Mr. Weems.
Bridget. I can't believe it.
Run down in the
street. Deliberate too.
Yes, I'm afraid it was.
Look here. Tell me straight.
I hear Emma's okay— that there never
was no accident. And who told you that?
Sergeant pal of mine tells me
just now when he sees me come in.
Well, it's true. Emma is alive.
Bloody hell. What's going on?
The coat that Bridget was wearing— In
the lining, there were the initials "E.M."
Bridget was leaving Emma's
house wearing Emma's coat.
In the darkness, the killer
probably assumed that it was Emma.
I'm puzzled.
Why was Bridget
wearing Emma's coat?
Wouldn't know, unless— Was it
by chance Emma's leopard coat?
Yes, it was. Sure. I get it.
Emma promised that coat to
Bridget. There was no secret about it.
Maybe Bridget decided to grab it before
the lawyers started muckin' things up.
A very reasonable explanation, Mr. Weems.
May I ask what you're doing here?
It's no secret.
Pal of mine on the Standard
told me about Bridget.
I also got tipped you've got Emma
stashed away healthy as you please.
I'd keep that
information to yourself.
Come on, Jessica.
We're paying a visit.
To Emma? Do you
mind if I tag along?
Like to see how the old
girl's doing. Ah, Sgt. Barbury.
This gentleman has a statement
to make in the O'Hara accident.
Take it all down, will you?
Shouldn't take more than a half hour.
Right. Here, you can't do this!
This way, sir. What happened?
I thought that Emma
was gonna meet us here.
Fielding called. Says she's
terrified to leave the flat.
I did promise that
coat to Bridget.
But why did she feel
she had to take it?
She must have thought
she'd been left out of the will.
And so the killer, seeing her hurry
down the steps wearing the leopard coat,
assumed Bridget was Emma, and—
The question is, Inspector,
why make that assumption?
Everyone believed
that Emma was dead.
The killer must have
known that Emma was alive.
Are you suggesting
I was indiscreet?
Security has been
breached by someone.
Emma?
Oh, Jessica, I— I
feel like such a fool.
Then you did talk to someone.
Well, uh, not directly.
I was so worried about Oliver,
especially after Ernest told me
he was so poorly about everything.
I called him up at the flat and left a
message on his answering machine.
Oh, bloody marvelous!
Now, Oliver wouldn't harm me.
No, but he might have dropped a
careless word to somebody else.
And before you knew it, half of
London's in on our little secret.
I don't suppose you told him
this address? Well, of course not!
- Thank God for that.
- Inspector, aren't we getting
a little ahead of ourselves?
After all, we don't know that
Oliver heard the message.
Huh. What's his address?
84 Cumberland Mews. Mm-hmm.
Jessica, we better
pay him a visit.
I'll also be posting a 24-hour
surveillance outside these premises.
Is that necessary? Oh, it is.
Not only for Miss Macgill's
protection, but on the odd chance...
that our killer makes another
attempt, we'll be waiting for him.
Where is he? Archie'll be here.
Taking his own
sweet time about it.
Look, if this is
another stall...
I only know what he said. "Call
Danny Briggs," he says. "I've got news."
Well, maybe he's made some arrangement
with that American cousin. Funny.
I got the feeling she wouldn't
be an easy nut to crack.
She's got no use for this place.
And with a handsome
profit to be made, she'll
sell. [Archie] I wouldn't
count on that, love.
She's alive. Who?
Emma! Who'd you think I meant?
- Oh, that's crazy, Archie.
- She's hiding out.
The whole thing was a
stunt. Seems someone's
been trying to put
her away. Not me.
I said "someone,"
Briggs. I named no names.
But I warn you, I
draw the line at murder.
So do I, Archie.
But I'm gonna have that
woman's signature on a contract.
My partners can be very
unpleasant gentlemen, even violent.
And if someone's gonna
get hurt, it won't be me.
Fact is, I haven't seen
Mr. Trumbull since early this morning.
He was off to services at the
theater, of all places. Mm-hmm.
Some people got no
sense of propriety. Yeah.
And you say he's not
returned here all day?
Said I hadn't heard
him. 'Course, I been
back in the kitchen a
lot watchin' the telly.
Many's a tenant comes
and goes without me knowin'.
Hasn't done anything
wrong, has he, Sergeant?
I do like the old chap. Yeah,
actually, it's, uh, Inspector.
Oh! And we'll let ourselves out.
No need to get testy, sir. I can take
a hint. Right. Thank you very much.
[Jessica] Look
at this, Inspector.
Hmm?
The Southgate Theater,
about 20 years ago.
"Oliver Trumbull as King Lear."
[Crimmins]
Shakespearean actor, eh?
Hardly seems possible.
Let's take a listen to this
answering device, shall we?
Trumbull? Ned Wiley here.
Sorry I missed
you at the office.
About the audition.
We're pretty much cast.
But if you would like to
pop into the lobby of the
Cumberland around
9:00, I'll have a look at you.
No promises, of
course. It's up to you.
- [Tape Rewinding]
- Emma's call must be earlier.
Mmm.
[Emma] Oliver, it's me, love.
I heard about how upset
you were this morning,
and I'm dreadfully sorry
to put you through this.
I'm safe and well, and
that's all I can say for now.
Please don't tell anyone you've heard
from me, or I'll be in terrible danger.
[Oliver] Go thy ways, old Jack.
Die if thou wilt.
If manhood, good
manhood, be not forgot...
Excuse me, young man.
I'll just consult the text.
Yes, but please hurry.
Not to worry, dear boy.
Just a momentary lapse.
I have it.
Uh, if— [Muttering]
If manhood— If
manhood, good manhood,
be not forgot upon the face of the
earth, then I am a shotten herring.
There lives but three good
men unhanged in England.
One of 'em's fat...
and grows old.
Yes, yes. Thank
you, Mr. Trumbull.
I have not finished!
I've heard quite enough, thanks.
Young man, you paid me the
courtesy to give me an audition.
You don't have the
manners to hear me out?
Look, old-timer, courtesy
had nothing to do with it.
You accost me in my hotel
lobby. You plead for a tryout.
Well, you got one, and,
frankly, you won't do.
Oh, some years ago, I'm sure you
would have made an adequate Falstaff.
Adequate?
Doth my Lord comfort me?
Came he right now
to sing a raven's note,
whose dismal tune
bereft my vital powers.
And thinks he that
the chirping of a wren...
by crying comfort
from a hollow breast...
could chase away the
first conceived sound!
Hide not thy poison
with such sugared words.
Oh! Lay not thy hands on me!
Forbear, I say!
Their touch affrights
me as a serpent's sting!
All right, everyone. Places,
places for the first scene.
Dad! Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.
Forgive me. I'm distressed you were
witness to such an embarrassment.
Oh, Mr. Trumbull, the embarrassment
was not yours, believe me.
You were magnificent. [Chuckles]
Magnificent and unemployed.
Is there somewhere
we can go and talk?
As it so happens, there's a
friendly pub just round the corner.
Follow me, ladies.
Emma—alive? Very much alive.
Mrs. Fletcher, is this
some sort of a joke?
That inspector said her body had been
washed up on a beach near Portsmouth.
Well, Inspector Crimmins was
helping us to create an illusion.
Emma's in hiding under
the protection of the police.
You see, over the past few weeks, several
attempts have been made on her life.
That car in the alleyway.
I knew that was no
accident. Jessica, I
must see her immediately.
Well, I'm afraid
that is not possible.
The hell you say. Dad!
Kitty, keep out of this.
Forgive me, madam.
But first, you tell me that Bridget
O'Hara was killed last night.
And then, as if that
were not enough,
you suddenly reincarnate
dear Emma from a watery grave.
I call that bloody unfeeling
of you! Dad, calm down.
[Jessica]
Mr. Trumbull, I'm sorry,
but I'm surprised that you
didn't know that Emma was alive.
After all, she telephoned
you late yesterday.
- What?
- The message was on
your answering machine.
I didn't hear it. I
didn't go home.
Oh?
I spent the afternoon cooling me
heels in the office of that fool director.
When I didn't get to see him, I
camped out in the hotel lobby.
When finally I managed to collar him, I
practically begged him for an audition.
He didn't remember
my Romeo at the Globe.
Mind you, it was some years ago.
I found him in the
lounge around 12:30,
half awake, a room key
dangling from his pocket.
It was the only way I could get a
drink after 11:00. I booked a room.
So I put him to bed for
the rest of the night. I see.
So you went directly from the
director's office to the hotel lobby,
then to the lounge,
and then to bed?
Dull but true. I'm
sorry, Mr. Trumbull.
I heard that taped
message from the director
asking you to meet
him in the hotel lobby.
Now, that was on the same tape as
Emma saying that she was alive and well.
I mean, you couldn't possibly
have heard one and not the other.
My thoughts precisely.
Oliver Trumbull, I'm
placing you under arrest...
for the murder of
Bridget O'Hara. No!
I'm sorry, miss. Officer.
[Crimmins] Bridget O'Hara
was struck by that car at 8:15.
The director suggested you
meet him at the hotel lobby at 9:00.
Is that right?
Yes! I told you so!
Well, that's a
difference of 45 minutes.
Ample time for you to get from
Chelsea Road to the Cumberland.
I told you. I did not
hear that message!
Oh, yeah. You just
happened to be at the hotel.
I overheard his secretary
book a table for him...
in the Cumberland
Hotel dining room.
I knew if I waited in
the lobby long enough,
he'd be bound to show up.
I was there from
7:30 till 11:00,
which can be verified by
the porter and the concierge.
I was paged for a phone
call from me daughter.
They remember the call,
Mr. Trumbull, and they remember you.
But they can't verify
the time you were there.
[Knocks] Come in.
This is a ghastly joke.
Oliver loved Emma.
He'd never try to hurt her.
I wish I could believe that.
You would if you knew him.
Do you know how
hard this is for me?
Very sorry, Kitty.
Your father will be formally
charged tomorrow morning.
No! He was in the hotel!
I phoned him there at 8:00.
There's no way he could have
been in two places at once.
The concierge confirmed your
call, Miss Trumbull. 9:00, not 8:00.
- He's wrong.
- Kitty, lying will not help the problem.
I have an appointment in an hour with
a very capable barrister. A fine fellow.
Believe me, your father will
have the best defense possible.
May I see him?
Yes. All right. Step this way.
Inspector, I'd like
to talk to Emma.
Yeah. Might be a good idea.
[Tires Screeching] [Crash]
Here! What's the matter
with you? Are you blind?
Did you see? You ran right into the
back of— Where did you learn how to drive?
[Archie] Get your hands off me!
[Voices Overlapping]
I'm a police officer.
Who is it? Constable
Barnes, Miss Macgill.
Oh!
Take it easy. I don't
wanna hurt you.
I just wanna talk. We've
nothing to talk about, Mr. Briggs.
Oh, we do, lady.
Plenty. Except talk's
not all I've come for.
The time for playin'
games is over.
I'm here to get your signature
on this bill of sale. Oh, no!
Don't tell me "no"!
I've got people to answer to...
People that'll peel away
my hide if I don't deliver!
So you'll sign.
Oh, you will sign,
or I'll get the place from your
cousin after you're dead and gone.
[Voices Overlapping]
Who's gonna pay for
my bleeding car? Not me!
You need a seeing
eye dog, you do.
I want you to wait here
for about five minutes.
Inspector!
Emma?
Emma, it’s Jessica! Jessica!
- Shut up!
- Emma!
Get back. Miss Macgill?
Inspector Crimmins. Open up.
- Emma?
- I'm all right, Jessica,
but I can't say the same for him.
[Chuckles] Well
done, Miss Macgill.
Thompson.
A nice bit of work.
Or, perhaps not.
[Emma] Well,
what is it, Jessica?
Yeah. We've got our man.
You should be delighted.
Our man? No, Inspector.
I'm sorry to say we don't.
[Sighs]
Jessica, I'm not sure how
you arranged me release, but...
Oh! I shall be
eternally grateful.
Well, thank Inspector
Crimmins. It was his decision.
Seventeen years
I've trod these boards.
Oh, it was grand,
especially back then...
when they knew
that we were here.
This old place would sing
with laughter and music...
and music.
[Kitty] Dad!
Oh, Kitty, darlin'. There, now.
I can't believe it. They let
you go. That's right, Kitty.
We've identified the real
killer of Bridget O'Hara.
Identified? Not arrested?
Not yet.
You see, both the
inspector and I would
like the killer to come
forward voluntarily.
It will make things so
much easier for her.
Her?
But I thought that Danny Briggs
was the one who— No, not Danny.
The killer was someone else...
Someone who had a very personal
reason for killing Emma Macgill...
and ran down Bridget in the mistaken
belief that she was killing Emma.
What's all this about?
You see, one thing
seemed strange about
those three earlier
attempts on Emma's life.
They happened on
consecutive weekends,
as if they had been
attempted by someone who
worked and lived
elsewhere during the week.
You telephoned your father
at the Cumberland, Kitty.
- The concierge said 9:00?
- He's a liar. I called at 8:00.
8:00 or 9:00 is not the point.
How did you know
where to find him?
What?
You did not go with him
to the director's office.
You went shopping, and then to the travel
agent to arrange your seaside holiday.
There's no possible way
you could have known that
he was going to be in the
lobby of the Cumberland...
unless you had heard
that phone message.
- Kitty?
- Don't listen to her! Dad...
Jessica. I'm so sorry, Oliver.
This gives me no
pleasure, believe me.
But, you see, if Kitty had
heard that director's message,
then she must have also
heard Emma's message.
Now, she had no way of knowing that
Emma was hiding out at the Streatham flat,
so she drove to Emma's
Chelsea Road house.
As she arrived, Bridget—
Dressed in Emma's coat...
Came out and started
across the street.
All right!
All right.
Why, Kitty?
Emma never harmed you.
But she was destroying you,
Dad. Or couldn't you see it?
You were so magnificent...
with a God-given gift
that you-you prostituted...
to become a second-rate
music hall comic.
You couldn't break away.
Every year, you got weaker
and more dependent...
while I stood there and watched.
You couldn't help
yourself, Dad. But I could.
Don't you see?
I had to kill her...
for you.
Kitty.
And I wouldn't have
let you go to jail, I swear.
I know that,
darlin'. I know that.
Oh, Dad.
Oh, Kitty.