Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 3, Episode 22 - Murder, She Spoke - full transcript

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Surely you can't
believe it was one of us?

Who more capable of operating
in the dark than a blind man?

Oh, for God's sakes.
That's ridiculous.

Why don't you go home and start
one of your special bubble baths?

Like they say in those
bus commercials, why don't

you just sit back and
leave the driving to us?

This time they even got
the cover. They're even

using our publicity to
sell their pirated tapes.

He accused me of
sellin' Stoney's tapes.

♪



"The body was
discovered by Edie Babish...

"on November 2, at
3:30 in the afternoon.

"She knew it was 3:30 because she
was late returning from her marketing.

"She checked her watch in the elevator,
bothered that dinner wouldn't be ready.

"Nothing fancy, just her
husband's favorite stuffed cabbage,

"but it took at
least four hours.

"She was equally certain
about the location of the body.

"The man's throat had been slit,

and he was making a dreadful mess all
over her freshly scrubbed kitchen floor."

Mrs. Fletcher, excuse me. Would
you take two steps back, please?

Your voice is just a
little bit too authoritative.

You mean too
loud? Um, how's this?

"It had not been Edie's day."

That's perfect, ma'am.
That's your mark.



Uh, I'm sorry to bring this up, but I
can't read the manuscript from back here.

Uh! Emergency
procedure number 483.

That okay? All right, Mrs.
Dalton, we're ready to roll.

Uh, I'd like to give Greg another
minute or two if that's all right.

He and Randy Whitworth
were having dinner,

but they should have
been... finished by now.

♪

Gold. Pure gold, guys.

Heck, Al, you'd say the
Partridge Family was platinum

if it'd get us out of
here. Play it back for us.

Stoney, my man, we
gotta get that retake in

tonight if we're gonna
deliver this album on time.

Al, my man, I got all
the time in the world.

Save me from comeback cons.

Okay, Earl, let's go. Jessica, I'll
stay here in the studio with you.

Try to forget that there's
a microphone in front

of you. Sorry to be
late, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm Greg Dalton. Oh,
saved by the producer.

I can't tell you how much I've
been looking forward to this.

I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just
had to meet you before we started.

Well, it's my pleasure. I can't tell you
how much I admire what you're doing here.

- Hi, sweetheart.
- I'm sorry you missed
our barbecue bec...

The stand must
have sprouted legs.

Oh, don't take it out on
the stand, Mr. Dalton. I'm the

culprit, I'm afraid. Me and
my "authoritative voice."

Well, now let's see. Now where were
we? Yeah, I was about to kiss my wife.

Oh, that's nice. A strange metallic
aftertaste. But that's not bad.

By the way, I'm also
very sorry, Mrs. Fletcher,

about this evening
session, but it's the only

time we seem to be
able to get this studio.

Oh, I think that mystery stories should be
read in the dark of the night, don't you?

You know, it's interesting. It's
always the dark of the night to me.

Cheryl! Haven't
you gone home yet?

No. I was just waiting
for you to come back

from dinner. Oh, you
didn't have to do that.

Of course not, sir.

Your wife called several
times. She said it was

urgent. Margaret just
can't get enough of me.

Oh, and Stoney Carmichael called. He said
it's very important. He needs to see you.

Hmm. Every day he's sounding
more like the old Stoney Carmichael.

Oh, and here's the check for
Mr. Anglin. He'll be here at 8:30.

And out of here
by 8:40 for good.

Well, what are you still doing
here? Isn't it past your bedtime?

Good night, sir.

♪

Stay here, Sal. Stoney,
quit treatin' me like a kid.

Honey, you are a kid. I gotta learn about
this business if I'm gonna be a singer.

Okay, first rule is, take care of your
band. Go get these boys some sodas.

Sounds great, Stoney.
Better than it does on this?

What the hell is this?
Found that at a swap meet.

They were chargin' 20 bucks for
it. This time they even got the cover.

I don't believe this. They're even using
our publicity to sell their pirated tapes.

Stoney, I told you there was a risk in
pushing back the release date. Yeah, yeah.

This is cash out of my pocket too.
Well, let me tell you somethin', Randy.

I got me an uptown lawyer,

and he tells me if I can
prove these bootlegs

are comin' out of
this studio, it'll, uh...

What was the word he
used? Uh, nullify my contract.

I know how you feel, Stoney.
You've been waitin' a long time for this.

But, man, I'm your
friend. You want out of

this contract, all you
have to do is say so.

Oh, sure, and repay all your expenses plus
50% of any future contract I come up with.

Nobody held a gun to
your head to sign the

contract when I found
you in that dive in Waco.

Well, somebody got
me mighty drunk. I guess

I'll even be billed for
the liquor too, huh?

Al, the truth. What do
you know about this?

Hey, man, this is your
studio. You know how

loose it was before
you beefed up security.

Anybody could've come in
here and dubbed those masters.

Stoney Carmichael is
my ticket to the top floor.

I'm not gonna let some
bootlegger try to ruin it for me.

Nobody'd mistake her
for a rhythm and blues girl.

That's the last book for the bleeding
blind you're gonna catch outta here.

Thanks for being
here, Mrs. Fletcher.

This is such an
important series.

Oh, you're right, Mr. Whitworth.
Not nearly enough books are pub...

Earl, my boy, we need
to have a little chat.

Just a note of insincerity. A note? Sounded
more like a full-blown symphony to me.

I'm afraid you see that
this is the last of the

Mystery Books for the
Blind to be recorded here.

Oh. What?

Greg, why didn't you say
something when you first

arr— That's why Randy
took me out to dinner.

But can't you take the
series to another company?

That'll be tough. This isn't
exactly a moneymaking proposition.

I can't say I blame him. I can.

Nancy, don't. I'm not gonna
let him get away with this.

I said, no!

Uh, perhaps this isn't the best
time to approach Mr. Whitworth.

One of your works of art?

Margaret, you scared
the hell out of me.

Not exactly music to a newlywed's
ears. God, you look great.

How'd you get in? Your
secretary on her way out.

She works quite
late, doesn't she?

And don't you think I
should have a key of my own,

seeing as I am footing the
bill for this little takeover?

Margaret, you're being silly.
I told you I'd be home late.

And of course you
can have a key. I just

have to settle this
business with Carl first.

Listen, tell you what.

Why don't you go home and start
one of your special bubble baths?

Actually, sweaty palms turn me on.
- 00. Meet you at the tub.

Why do I get the feeling
that you're rushing me off?

It's just that Carl should be here any
minute, and I might not wait for that bath.

Good. I'd hate to think that
you only wanted me for my mind.

Or one of those other
"M" words like... money?

"But what really bothered
Mrs. Babish was that

the body was dressed
in her only fromal gown."

"Fromal gown"? Oh, my goodness.

I'm sorry. That's my typing.

There's no problem,
ma'am. We’ll just pick

it up at the beginning of
the paragraph, all right?

I'll be right back.

Mrs. Fletcher, in three, two—

♪

Randy, you wanted
to hear the new tracks?

What the...

Oh, come on. Randy,
there goes the power again.

That's the third
time this month.

- We can't have blackouts like
this in the middle of sessions.

You and Carl gotta get some people
in here who know what they're doin'.

It's bad for the equipment.
The electricians were just here.

This has happened before,
Jessica. Just stay put.

Well, where are you going?
Wouldn't it be safer to—

I know my way around. I'll see
if I can find the circuit breaker.

Hello? What's goin' on in here?

What happened
to the damn lights?

♪

Well, let there be music.

Randy? Help!

Randy, are you okay?
Somebody. Oh, God. I'm hurt.

It's Randy! Somethin'
is wrong with Randy!

What is it? What's wrong?
Something about Randy.

Help... me.

Oh, good Lord. Uh,
call-call an ambulance.

Stabbed... me. Stabbed
you? Who stabbed you?

Somebody... in the dark.

Lieutenant Faraday, police
department. Will he make it?

Did you see who did this
to you? Dark. Too dark.

Stay with me now. Come on. Stay
with me. Tell me what happened.

Al. Al on phone.

Okay, good, good. You
were on the phone with Al.

Lights out. Pain... back.

Surely you can't
believe it was one of us?

The front door was locked. No
one came in except Mr. Anglin.

Now, I do not want you to worry
your pretty little head about this.

I'm going to have officers here
to protect you every second.

Excuse me, uh, Lieutenant.

I'm sure that you have
already figured that...

if there was somebody
already in the office

with Mr. Whitworth when
the blackout occurred,

they could easily have left,
and no one would have noticed.

I mean, it was very confusing out
here, you know, after the lights came on.

Uh-huh, it's still a little confusing
now, isn't it, ma'am? Tell you what.

Like they say in those
bus commercials, why don't

you just sit back and
leave the driving to us?

Someone must have thrown
the switch, come in here and...

But how? Place was pitch dark.

Flashlight? No. Victim
would have seen it.

Excuse me, Lieutenant Faraday?
Mr. Dalton here says that he heard...

Mrs. Fletcher, the sergeant here
tells me that you're a mystery writer.

Uh, yes. As I was saying— Oh, I think
writing is a real good hobby for a woman.

You can cook up some supper.
You can chat on the phone.

Then pop over to the old typewriter
now and then for a few minutes.

Yes. When I'm not too busy beating
the laundry against the rocks in the river.

Oh, I bet your
books are charming.

Thank you. I was trying to tell
you Mr. Dalton heard something.

But then, of course, real
murder is anything but charming.

And solving it requires
patience, strength.

- Ah, man's work.
- Right.

I think I'd better
say something here.

Lieutenant, Mrs. Fletcher
thought that something

I heard in the hallway
might be important...

if you're interested.

Well, of course, sometimes— Sometimes
the ladies have real good hunches.

So what happened?

I was standing at the
drinking fountain taking

a pill—I have a circulation
problem in my leg...

When I heard somebody run
past me and something drop.

Now that thing could
have been a knife.

- So this happened
while the lights were out?
- I'm afraid I don't know.

What do you mean,
you don't know?

Sunny Spain and the black hole of Calcutta
are the same to me, Lieutenant. I'm blind.

Well, I'm sorry to hear that.

You certainly seem to
get around pretty good.

Thank you. I can also
chew gum at the same time.

Don't you use a cane? Not if I can help it.
I don't need one around familiar places.

I'm sure the cleaning
lady will get that stain.

And, yes, Mrs. Fletcher,
I noticed it too. Paint.

Monet Mauve. Come again?

Monet Mauve is a very
expensive nail polish,

Lieutenant, and the
bottle is right here.

Could I trouble you for your pocket
handkerchief, please? Of course, ma'am.

Thank you.

I tell you what— Why don’t you take
that as a souvenir on your way home?

It's awful late for a
lady to be out alone.

Lieutenant, nail
polish dries very fast.

The stain on the floor
is still damp, which

means that this bottle
was dropped very recently.

So you're saying that some
woman who likes expensive

nail polish came in here
and stabbed Mr. Whitworth?

Kind of a jump, don't
you think, ma'am?

I merely said that this bottle
was dropped very recently.

But, yes, I do think it would be a
good idea to find out who it belongs to.

Leave it to a woman
to find nail polish.

Dusted?

Hello. Mm-hmm. Okay.

Mr. Whitworth was
D.O.A. at the hospital.

We're now looking
for a murderer.

Lieutenant, you can't
seal off the studio.

Save your breath,
Mr. Anglin. No one goes in

or out of here till
things are settled up.

Uh, if you're through being searched,
ma'am, you're free to go. Just don't...

You're not gonna tell us we can't
leave town. That's a good idea.

I wasn't even in the
studio when Randy was

killed. I got a business
meetin' in Nashville.

Sorry. By the way, I think Officer
Cooper's ready for you right now.

Uh, Lieutenant, I
have got a red-eye.

Oh, ma'am, I sure hate to
make you miss a canasta game,

but I'm afraid I'm gonna have
to ask you to stay. I know that.

I just would like to use a telephone
to cancel my passage, but, uh,

I didn't want to use a
phone that hadn't been, uh...

Oh, how do you official
men call it, dusted?

Lieutenant? I think we've
found the murder weapon.

Push.

That must be what
Mr. Dalton heard drop.

You're a great
pace man, Jessica.

Thanks. Just don't let Lieutenant
Faraday hear you say that.

Oh, rough ground ahead.
I know. It's my usual route.

Oh, I do admire you, Greg. You
certainly don't miss out on anything.

Since the car accident, you
know what I keep telling myself?

That you won't let it stop you.
And I haven't. Bum leg or not.

Well, you've certainly
made an incredible

adjustment in a comparatively
short space of time.

The human body's an
amazing mechanism. You lose

one sense, and the
others pick up the slack.

Coffee at 100 yards!

Jogging, what a way to
ruin a beautiful morning.

How about some eggs before
those arteries get too clear?

Oh, thanks. That would be
lovely. Here, honey, let me do this.

That's okay. I've already
started. And I'll finish it.

You know I wanna thank you
both for letting me stay here.

Please, it's the least we could
do with you forced to stick around.

I'll get it. I'll get it. I'll get it.
Hello? Carl, yes, good to hear from you.

But, Carl it's not like we're...

Carl, look, why don’t
you take some time to-to—

All right, Carl.
All right. All right.

Good-bye.

He canceled Mystery
Books, didn't he?

Does he have the power to
do that? I guess he must have.

I'm not so sure.

Don't let's talk figures,
Stoney. Point is Red

River Studios wants to
be a part of your future.

Oh, sure, you can get back to
me. You take care now, ya hear?

Always a pleasure doin'
business with an artist.

My husband used to love
Stoney Carmichael, but

I'm afraid I lean more
towards Eddy Arnold.

Yeah, well, that comeback album's gonna
go through the roof when it's released.

Oh, you mean it isn't out? I thought I
saw a cassette in Mr. Whitworth's office.

No, no. Bootleg. Afraid that's one
of the reasons ol' Stoney wants out.

Randy wouldn't do business with him,
but me, I mean heck, I'm a businessman...

who's got an obligation to
run a profitable company.

Carl, there's no reason
the Mystery Books couldn't

make money if they
were marketed properly.

Greg, my boy, Randy
kept you on as a favor.

Now I know it, and you know it.

But, see, I don't got a favor owing
you. What I do got is folks countin' on me.

Uh, Mr. Anglin, I'm
assuming that you inherited

Mr. Whitworth's
portion of the business,

or you wouldn't be making
decisions of this kind.

Well, I, uh, I am in the
process of acquiring it.

Oh, I'm sorry. I
must be confused.

Last night, in
Mr. Whitworth's office,

I happened to see a cashier's check made
out to you for a sizable amount of money,

and it was attached to a
contract transferring the ownership.

- A lot's changed since last night.
- Yes, I can see that.

What's he doing here? Who?

Lieutenant Faraday. Probably
wants to ask some more questions.

Why? There's nothing
more we can tell him.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Mrs. Dalton.

Lieutenant, unless you have a warrant—
Come on, Nancy. We've got nothing to hide.

As a matter of fact, ma'am.

I'm sorry I snapped at you. This whole
thing has gotten me— Well, you know.

I'll get some coffee.

Mr. Dalton, uh, I
understand that you had a

barbecue here at the
house a couple of days ago.

Most everybody from
the studio attended, right?

If you'll excuse me, I'll give
Nancy a hand with the coffee.

Jessica!

Nancy, Lieutenant Faraday isn't
stupid. He'll look in the dryer too.

What do you mean?

I suppose the others from
the set are in there too?

One of our knives is missing, but
somebody from the studio must've taken it.

- Nancy, you can't withhold evidence.
- Jessica, somebody is
trying to frame Greg.

But it will only look worse
when it's discovered.

Besides, it could be
used to clear Greg.

Lieutenant, you said that the

prints had been wiped
off the murder weapon.

I mean, anybody could have
taken that knife from the barbecue.

He was standing right next to that
master switch during the blackout.

But how can you be sure that the
blackout was caused by the master switch?

Nancy, didn't you tell me that the
power had gone off several times recently?

That's right, they've been
having electrical problems.

We've had to stop in the middle
of recording sessions several times.

Mm-hmm. It could also have been
an act of God, but I don't think so.

Yes, but even if the blackout
had been caused by the

master switch, somebody
else could have pulled it.

Mrs. Fletcher, this is a very nice womanly
thing you're doing, helping a friend,

but you’re grasping
at straws here, ma'am.

Everybody else is accounted for.

Not really, Lieutenant. Nobody could
really prove an alibi during a blackout.

Exactly, ma'am,
it was a blackout.

And who more capable of operating
in the dark than a blind man?

Oh, for God's sakes.
That's ridiculous.

But, Lieutenant, you have to have
something more than a suspicion of...

Like a motive? You
want a motive? Fine. Fine.

There's this, uh, real doll of a waitress
named Doris down at the steak house.

Apparently, Mr. Dalton
here and Mr. Whitworth had

quite a shootout over their
New York primes last night.

Mr. Whitworth said he was canceling
the Mystery Books, right, Mr. Dalton?

And then you reminded him—
That he owed me, which he did.

A man owes something to
somebody he blinds in a car accident.

But not his life. A job
maybe, but not his life.

Greg, could you identify anything
about the person who ran past you?

Like what? Well, could you tell if it
was a man or a woman, for example?

Sometimes I can tell the difference, but
not when they're wearing soft-soled shoes.

Uh, but did they sound heavy or light?
Did they move fast? Were they young?

- He's not an eyewitness,
Jessica. He's blind.
- Nancy!

You're not Superman, Greg.

You can't do everything
by yourself. It will

never be the same as it
was before the accident.

Now I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry, but
that is the way it is.

I'll go and talk to Lieutenant
Faraday. No, no, wait. Please, please.

Nancy, I am happy.

I have a wonderful
wife, a good life...

until I ended up here.

Why do you have to be so damn
happy? So nice to Randy in front of me?

- Didn't you ever just
wanna bash his face in?
- Stop it! Just stop it!

How do you know what I feel?

You know what it's like to wake up
every morning and open these eyes?

Of course I hate it.

And I hate him, but hating isn't gonna
get me anywhere. Isn't that right, Jessica?

- It's certainly very destructive.
- But you have to acknowledge it.

You have to deal with it. You can't just
push it down, or it's gonna well up inside.

You think I killed
him, don't you?

I don't know you anymore, Greg.

You don't confide in me. You don't let
me do things for you. You have cut me off.

Now all I am to you
is your chauffeur.

I'm sorry.

Nancy, these
recent power failures,

are they anything like what happened
last night, I mean, total darkness?

Yes. But you don't think
it was a coincidence?

Oh, no. If I were to pull a murder in total
darkness and frame a blind man for it,

I think I'd need some rehearsal.

Why don’t you go on home?

I wanna go set a few things straight
with Lieutenant Faraday, okay?

Oh, this night scope is great.

The deer don't
even see you comin'.

Maybe that's why they
call it "sport shooting."

Mrs. Fletcher, I share your
respect for Mr. Dalton. I really do.

Just because I respect him, just because
I like him, doesn't cloud my vision.

Cream and how
many sugars? Black.

Lieutenant, there are so
many other possibilities.

That bottle of nail polish
indicates that somebody...

Was in that office sometime near
the murder. Nothing more, ma'am.

Or Whitworth could
have dropped it himself.

Could have. Just like that power failure
could have been caused by something else.

I mean, we don't know
that it was the master switch.

Ma'am, I'm getting
just a little bit nervous

about this "we" business.

Yes. Ah. Thank you very much.

"We" now have the last bit
of evidence that "we" need.

The blood on the knife that we
found in the studio matches the victim's.

Yes, uh, you can unseal
the recording studio.

Yeah, that's right.
Call off the marines.

Lieutenant, I wish
you wouldn't do that.

Once you open up that
studio, whoever's behind

all this could go in
and cover his tracks.

Tracks? What tracks? I
have got my smoking gun.

A little bit too conveniently.

Ah, so now Mr. Dalton
is being framed.

Please, ma'am, please.
You're smarter than this.

Don't act like an irrational—
Please, Lieutenant, please.

Preserve what respect I have for
you, and don't say "irrational woman."

Irrational outsider.

Now, ma'am, I really, really don't wanna
see you coming around here anymore...

unless you're with some man
here to arrange bail for Greg Dalton.

Uh, Lieutenant Faraday, believe it or
not, there are women who can arrange bail,

and besides that, you're
the one behaving irrationally...

by failing to pursue all
the leads in this case.

Let's do my overdub
on "Night Tears,"

and then when the rest of the
guys get here, we'll cut that last song.

The quicker the better.
That's great, Stoney.

I'm all backed up here. I got Larry
and the Lashers comin' in right after you.

Oh, hey, they're bad! Think they'd
give me a chance to work backup for 'em?

They probably would. They're 90% sleaze
and 10% perversion. Come on, young'un.

Mrs. Fletcher, something
I can do for you?

Yes.

Sorry to hear about
Greg. He's a great guy. He

used to invite us over
for barbecues and stuff.

I really can't
believe he did it.

Al, when you were on the
phone with Mr. Whitworth,

did you hear anything that would give
us a clue to the identity of the killer?

- Can't think of anything.
- No background sounds or
jangling of the keys or...

Sorry. Look, I really
have to get back to work.

This whole business
has set me way behind

schedule. I wish I could
have been of more help.

Well, thanks anyway.

Earl? Mrs. Fletcher, come on in.

I thought Mystery Books was
canceled. I'm afraid it has been.

I'm sorry to hear
that. I like Mr. Dalton.

This darn shorts. We're
gettin' 'em all over the place.

Oh, very scientific. Earl, you
seem to be something of an expert.

Tell me, is there any way to tell the
difference between a power failure...

caused by pulling a master switch
and one caused by electrical problems?

They all look the same, but I'll tell
you the master switch never was off.

I checked it myself other times.

The lights just come back
on when they're ready.

And you have no idea
what's causing these

problems. Electricians
can't figure it out either.

And it always happens in
the middle of a session too.

A session of Mystery
Books for the Blind?

Come to think of it, during Stoney
Carmichael's sessions too as I recall.

Earl, I couldn't help
but notice you having

an argument with
Randy Whitworth in here...

before he was murdered.

Yeah, old Randy, he had a
short fuse. He accused me of

sellin' Stoney's tapes. And
I took exception, of course.

But I'll tell you somethin'.
You talk about mad,

I've never seen anybody ever
like Stoney was about those tapes.

And if he hadn't been in his
studio during the blackout...

These can really drive you
mad. Here, let me have a go.

How do you like that?

You know, I'm a great fan of
your uncle. Makes one of us.

It must be very exciting
being on the road with him.

Yeah, exciting. You
know, I'll tell you something.

If I would've known that
he was gonna be worse

than my daddy, I never
would've run away.

You know, you'd think old Stoney
would help me get started, wouldn’t you?

Well, maybe he
wants to protect you.

How's he gonna do that? By
making me his soda slave? Geez.

What?

Oh, I was just admiring your
nail polish. It's, uh, very intense.

Oh, it's called Slash. You want
some? Uh, no, no, thank you.

Purple doesn't really
work very well for me.

I understand, Sally Ann, you were in
the ladies' room during the blackout.

Yeah. Take it from me. It's not a
fun place to be when the lights go out.

Well, you're lucky you managed
to get out without hurting yourself.

What's that supposed to mean? I
didn't leave till the lights came back on.

Oh. Oh, I misunderstood.

I-I thought that you were the first person
to find Randy Whitworth in his office.

So?

Oh, I get it.

Let me tell you somethin'.
I didn't even hardly

know the dude. Why
would I wanna kill him, huh?

Excuse me.

Come on, Margaret. Everybody
knows you were just Randy's meal ticket.

- Ah, what a way you have with words, Carl.
- - Now don't get het up.

I just meant I don't see
why you want this old

wreck of a place.
Well, call it sentimental.

But my offer is the same
one you agreed to with Randy.

It was my money then;
it's my money now.

Well, I'm not so sure
I wanna sell now.

Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am.
Mr. Anglin, I was uh...

- I-I was just waiting for you.
- Could've been a long wait.

Well, uh, I want to
give you your tape.

You just hold on, and
I'll go get it from Earl.

You know the widow?

Well, I suppose Carl meant
that as an introduction.

I'm Margaret Whitworth.
Jessica Fletcher.

I'm so very sorry
about your husband.

It was a great shock.

When you say good-bye to
your husband in the morning,

you-you never realize
that those will be the

last words that you
will ever say to him.

You— You never dream that...

that the next time
you see him, he'll be...

Oh, I know it. It must
have been terrible.

That's such a perfectly lovely black
dress. It's crepe de chine, isn't it?

Well, yes, I believe so.

That's such a pretty
pale shade of nail

polish you're wearing.
Monet Mauve, isn't it?

- Well, you certainly
know your nail polishes.
- That is such a coincidence.

You know, a bottle
was dropped right here.

Lieutenant Faraday found it
the night of your husband's death.

Well, there's...

There's nothing clandestine about coming to
see your husband at the office, is there?

Oh, of course not.

I just can't help but
wonder why you felt it was

so important to make
me believe that you didn't.

Well, I'm sorry you didn't get to finish
this up. Well, I wish you'd reconsider.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs.
Fletcher, but you see now,

dumpin' this mystery book
series is about the only thing

that Margaret Whitworth
and I do see eye-to-eye on.

You take care now, you hear?

Carl! You gone
deaf or somethin'?

A couple of times now
I told you to stay away

from my niece. Let go
of me, will ya, Stoney?

- Stoney, you turn him lose!
- Keep outta this!

- Where to, lady?
- Uh, stay right here. I've got
the address in here somewhere.

You got some idea about helpin'
her out with a singin' career?

- She came to me, Stoney.
- Damn right I did.

Yeah, and she came
on to Randy too,

and I straightened him out just like
I'm gonna straighten you out right now.

What you got in mind
for my niece sure ain't

no singin' career. Stoney,
you keep outta this!

Look, she's got a tin ear
and a voice like a screech owl,

which means she's
only good for one thing.

Carl, are you gonna let
him talk about me like that?

Well, I uh— Yeah, he's gonna
let me talk about you like that.

Because without me, this place is one
big nothin'. Now come on, honey, let's go.

You let go of me! Listen, if
you don't start behavin' yourself,

I'm gonna send you back home to
your mama in Chattanooga. Now let's go!

Jessica, I wanna
hear your tape to see if

I can use it to get another
studio to pick us up.

Greg, you just made bail.
Give it a rest at least for tonight.

You know, Greg, there's still
something that's been bothering me.

You said that the person who passed
you in the hall was running? That's right.

Nancy. Yes?

You always made better
coffee even when I could see.

The question is, how could
anybody run in the dark?

Maybe they had a
flashlight. I didn't see one.

Of course it's possible that the
killer was already in the office.

Sally Ann said that she
was in the ladies' room,

but she could have gone to
the office and killed Randy.

- But why? She had no motive.
- Carl Anglin certainly did.

Carl couldn't have
done it. He wasn't inside

the building when
the lights went out.

Very convenient.

What if somebody inside,
somebody who had a relationship

with him, committed
the murder on his behalf?

It's all a lot of ifs,
buts, maybes to me.

Right now all I can
think of is hearing this

tape to see if I can
salvage the book program.

Oh, it still doesn't
feel right to me.

I mean how could Sally Ann
have caused the blackout,

and made her way in the dark—

I mean, how could anybody?

Only 10 minutes before
Lieutenant Garfield arrived.

Is that me? That can't be me!
Garfield took in the scene quickly.

Yes, you. Sounds wonderful.

Authoritative.

He looked at the
swarthy man with

the hideous bloody
grin cut into his throat,

noted the gown he was
wearing, and dryly observed that...

he appeared to be
wearing a size 12.

Hello? Yes, Lieutenant,
she's right here.

They were lucky at least the
corpse wasn't wearing makeup.

Hello, Lieutenant? What's all this
about, uh, the victim wearing makeup?

Oh, that wasn't me. I-I mean it
was me, but it was merely a tape.

A tape of my, uh... my voice.

I-I really wish you hadn't accused
Margaret Whitworth ma'am.

She's been yabbering my
head off for the last hour.

- Lieutenant, never mind
Margaret Whitworth.
- What?

She didn't do it. But I know
who did it, and I know how.

But what I don't know
is how to prove it.

Who did it? Who?

Thanks for all your
help, Earl. No problem.

I got it. No, it's
all right. I got it.

Look, man, it's been a long
day. Why don't you split?

Yeah. I guess I will hit the
road. Okay. See you mañana.

Damn!

Who is it? Who's there?

- It's me, Al.
- Greg?

I wanna know why
you wanted to frame me.

- What are you talkin’ about?
- You did a good job. Too good.

You knew I could maneuver in the
dark, and I can. I'm getting closer, Al.

You're crazy! Stay away from me.

Well, what do you know?
The lights came back.

No, Al, you switched
them back on.

Just as you did the night that
you killed Randy Whitworth.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I realized you had to have rigged a
way to turn the studio power on and off.

And you wouldn't have
had time to dismantle it,

what with the studio being
sealed and sessions all day.

Just because I have a master
switch here doesn't prove anything.

- How could I see in the dark?
- With this, we figure.

When you came into the studio
today, you weren't wearing your helmet.

But when I came in
here to talk to you, the

helmet was already
hanging up on the rack,

which meant it had been
there since the murder.

That seemed strange. Why not
wear it when you left that night?

I think it was because you
were afraid that in searching you,

which they were likely to do,
the police would discover...

that this has an infrared visor.

Lady, you're nuts. I was on the -
phone with Randy when he died.

Uh-uh. I'm afraid not.

What he heard was a tape recording of your
voice from this battery powered player.

Besides giving you
an alibi, it locked Randy

in one place, on the
phone during the blackout.

- Allowing you to kill him.
- And to frame me.

You knew that Greg took his
medication sometime around 8:00.

And that's why the
unexplained blackouts

always occurred during
Mystery Book sessions.

You were rehearsing,
making sure it would work.

On the monitor, you
saw Greg leave the studio.

You got Randy on the phone,

put the cassette
on the player...

and hit the switch.

You knew where the helmet
was and could easily reach it.

Yeah, and you brought the steak

knife that you took
from Dalton's barbecue.

With the helmet on, it was
easy to go to Randy's office...

where you killed him.

It didn't matter that he
didn't die on the spot.

As it turned out, it
was to your advantage.

Yeah, he alibied
you on his deathbed.

You dropped the knife
behind the soda machine.

Then you returned
here, hid the tape,

placed your
helmet in plain sight,

and switched the lights back on.

Stoney and his musicians
had no idea you'd ever left.

Besides, how could they? How could anybody
see in the dark except for a blind man?

You're crazy. You
can't prove any of this.

My lawyer is gonna make sushi out of
you. Anybody could've rigged this board.

You got nothing on me!

Now I do not want
you to feel bad, ma'am,

because I will find a
way to make him confess.

You did search him the
night of the murder, didn’t you?

Well, uh, yes. Of course we did.

And you didn't find
the tape on him?

Well, no.

Well, then it's still got
to be here somewhere.

Jessica, how can
we ever thank you?

Well, you just get the series
lined up at another studio,

and then we will finish The
Mystery of the Mutilated Minion.

- Oh, here's my ride.
- Lieutenant Faraday?
- Faraday? Is he smiling, I hope?

Well, he does seem
very pleased with himself.

Well, I thought you'd like to
know. I got Parker to confess.

He was the bootlegger, all right.
Ah, then you did find the tape.

Ten hours later. If I never hear
another guitar, it won't be too soon.

Come on, Greg, I think the lieutenant
has something to say to Jessica.

Thank you for
everything. Good bye.

Ciao, Jessica.

Please, ma'am.

I, uh, I guess
she was right. You

really did help us wrap
this whole thing up.

Well, thank you,
Lieutenant. That's very

nice of you. And you've
taught me something.

As long as I live, I
will never again...

Yes, Lieutenant?

Underestimate the
power of women's intuition.