Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 4, Episode 1 - A Fashionable Way to Die - full transcript

Promised an original, Jessica travels to Paris for her friend fashion-designer Eva Taylor's first high-profile show. Only her devoted assistant Peter Appleyard assisted when Eva's investor, Maxim Soury, extorted a 50-50 deal not to pull the plug on a loan and add $10,000 for a supermodel. Next Maxim is found shot in his hotel-room, with indications Eva did it. Jessica and gallant Paris police inspector Panassic soon find Soubry was an adulterer, known so by his wife Claudia, and a dirty pornographic extortionist with a kept mistress, bar singer Valerie Bechet, mother of model Kim. Unlike the police, Jessica believes two maids claiming each to have heard a shot with a 20 minutes interval during the fashion-show, and works out the meaning of the dresses mix-up and missing purse during the otherwise perfect show...

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I heard a shot. It crossed my
mind it might be a champagne cork.

We may be involved with
pornography and perhaps blackmail.

Either you sign, or I will tie you
up with injunctions and litigations.

Panassie has done it again.

I think you've once again
arrested the wrong woman.

Keep an eye on Maxim
and the attractive Miss Taylor.

- You're not involved.
- You don't know how wrong you are.





So, have you spoken
to Eva Taylor yet?



Now, are you sure that
you want to pursue...

the dazzling world of
high fashion modeling?

Maybe you think I
am not pretty enough.

How does your mother feel
about this ambition of yours?

She is all for it. I
told you that, Maxim.

Oh. Well, if she
has no objection,

I will speak with Eva.

Thank you.

Pernod.

So, she's still after you to
talk to Eva, huh? It's up to you.

My daughter cannot
wait tables all her life.

Well, to business then.

Maxim, your wife
is very generous.

She allows our relationship.



I am not that generous.

Valerie, my American
business partner is just that...

A business partner who is
going to make me very, very rich.

We're all set for Friday
night. No, we're not.

Now, we're all set.

Look. Just arrived
from the workrooms.

For the finale, the orchestra can
play "Stars and Stripes Forever."

Peter, what country are we in? No. We
will line them up in blue, white and red.

Play “The Marseilles," and
all of France will rise to its feet.

Now you are thinking
like a diplomat.

What dedication.
Still, the candles burn.

Maxim!

I was afraid you
didn't get my message.

Come on. We can
talk in the backroom.

Peter, start accessorizing those
gowns, jewelry and shoes and purses.

Givenchy, move over.

Maxim, I have the
most wonderful news.

I went to a party last
night. I met Lu Waters.

The famous model?

I talked her into modeling in
my show. Isn't that marvelous?

How much is this marvelous
opportunity going to cost me?

Cost? Cost? Maxim,
it's an investment.

The publicity alone
is well worth her fee.

Which is? Ten thousand dollars.
But that's nothing when you consider...

Eva— Eva, please, stop.

If you have $10,000 to throw around,
perhaps you should use it to pay me back.

But I can't pay you
back until my new fall

collection starts
selling here in the salon.

Well, you should have
thought of that before

you signed our little
business arrangement.

I tell you what.

I will give you your $10,000...

and a six-month extension...

Oh, Maxim, thank you!

In return for a 50-50 ownership
agreement in The Taylored Look.

- What?
- Well, a bank would want everything.

I ask for only half. "Ask"?

You have a gun to my head.

Either you sign a business partnership
agreement with me before the show,

or I will tie you up with
injunctions and litigations.

Need I color in
the grisly details?

Oh.

By the way, Valerie's
daughter Kim...

wants to be one of
the models Friday night.

Eva.

Eva. Shh.

Eva.

Jessica?

Eva! Oh, my goodness.

Don't you look wonderful.

Well, you don't
look so bad yourself.

Well, it's not bad for
Regent Street, but I can

hardly wait to get you
into an Eva Taylor original.

Well, I—You can't wait? I've
been waiting for ages for this day.

Come on. I'm starved.

It was such fantastic luck
reaching you in London.

How was your flight
across the channel?

You know, I am such a diplomat, I switched
from tea to Perrier halfway across.

Oh, Eva, I can't tell you
how wonderful it is to see you.

After all these years, all
those disappointments,

to have your own
collection, and here in Paris.

I don't know, Jess. I just knew
I had to give it one more shot.

Well, there's nothing like taking on
the other fella in his own backyard.

Oh, Jess, those first few years,
believe me, I really worked my fanny off.

I did some things for a tiny
little shop over on the Left Bank,

and I designed some
gowns for a nightclub.

That's when I met Maxim.
He financed me until...

Until now, anyway.

Money troubles?

Nothing that can't be solved.

Now, Eva, you and I have known
each other too long. What's wrong?

Oh, I don't know. I think I'm
just nervous about the show.

After lunch, you are going
to come to a rehearsal where

you will tell me how much
you love this collection.

I can't wait.

Kim, it's very simple. You
enter, you pose, you turn.

You show the garment.
And it's step, step, step,

turn, turn, and walk,
walk, walk, walk.

Okay.

Step, step, step, turn...

- And walk, walk.
- Lu, darling. Welcome.

How's that suite we got you?
It's perfect, Eva. Thank you.

Everyone, Lu Waters, our star.

I am a working girl.

Just give me one of your size eights
and push me down the ramp, okay?

Come on, darling. There's
somebody I want you to meet.

Eva, these are
absolutely wonderful.

Thank you. They better be.

Jessica, this is
Lu Waters. Hello.

Oh, yes, of course. I've seen you on
the cover of Vogue. Or was it Bazaar?

Both, I'm thrilled
to say. Peter.

Make sure Lu gets 506, 5 1 7—

If Claudia has come in
early from the country,

this could become
uncomfortable, Valerie.

Relax, Maxim. I just
want to wish Kim well.

Besides, I think your wife and I would get
along famously if we ever had the chance.

Mother! I'm actually
learning how to walk.

The red becomes you, darling.

Just what we need—a rookie.

You see that incredible
red dress they gave her?

Honey, I don't even notice
other models' dresses.

Good luck, darling. I have to go rehearse
a new number I'm putting in this evening.

Do your mama a favor, huh?

Keep an eye on Maxim
and the attractive Miss Taylor.

Mother, I am not a spy.

Of course you're not, darling.

I had, uh, my attorney
draw these up this morning.

Our new 50-50
partnership agreement.

Unless, of course, you have
found an elusive angel. Hmm?

Mrs. Fletcher, we
have not yet met.

Maxim Soury. Oh, yes.

Eva has told me how very helpful
you've been to her. My wife Claudia.

- How do you do?
- A pleasure.

Maxim seldom shares his
business interests with me.

But this new venture—
It is so exciting, no?

- Mm-hmm.
- I will watch backstage.

Claudia, I will
see you later, yes?

♪ Madam.

Mesdames et messieurs,
bonsoir. Le Inter-Continental Hotel...

proudly welcomes you
to the premier collection

of Miss Eva Taylor
and The Taylored Look.

First, we have
Margo in number 501.

This magnificent gold lame
is dramatically strapless,

perfect for the many
moods of an evening in Paris.

Eva, my top hook.

Okay.

Here is number 506,

worn by the toast of the international
fashion scene, Mademoiselle Lu Waters.

This black velvet gown, embroidered
with pearls, would grace any embassy ball.

And you cost-conscious ladies...

will be pleased to know that
the pearls come with the dress.

Oh, madam, we have
a call for Maxim Soury.

I was told he's here.
Oh. That's him over there.

Oh, thank you.

Our overseas operator has a
Tokyo call for you, monsieur.

Put it through to room 818.

Very well, monsieur.

Now something different—

Blue sapphire? Yeah.

And here is Lu Waters
again, this time in number 530,

a fabulous white-sequined gown.

I thought he said white.

Oh, forgive me. I was so blinded
by Miss Waters's radiant beauty...

that I couldn't see that she's
actually wearing number 531,

a—a stunning blue
creation, of course.

And now, here again is
Margo in white sequins.

That's number 530.

The M.C. screwed up.

No, he didn't. Peter, you
gave her the blue by mistake.

No, I didn't. Eva,
what's the difference?

Both girls are the same size.
Margo, did Peter zip you into this?

No, Kim helped me. But
this was on my rack, Eva.

And now, we have
Kim in number 560.

A brilliant red for all seasons.

Red, white and blue— the colors of
America and France, and Eva Taylor!

Bravo!

The Taylored Look!

Oh, Eva, they loved
it, and they loved you.

You really did it.

I sure did. I really
blew it. Blew it?

Don't be silly. Stores all over the world
will be fighting to carry your creations.

And Maxim Soury will
reap 50% of my profits.

- What?
- OH, Jessica, I have been such a fool.

When you arrived, I was
going to ask you to invest

in my company to get
that loan shark off my back.

Loan shark? Monsieur
Soury? But I couldn't.

You are such a dear friend,

and I was afraid you'd think that
was the only reason I'd invited you.

Now, listen to me, Eva. If that man
extorted money from you, there are laws.

But there's no law that
says that I can't help you out.

But I've already signed a new
partnership agreement with him.

A good lawyer can break that. Then maybe
my bank could extend a short-term loan.

OH, Jessica. Would
you help me talk to him?

Eva, they say that money talks.
Let's go talk money to Monsieur Soury.

- Eva, it was magnificent!
- Oh, thank you, Madam Soury.

Maxim doesn't answer. He was
backstage earlier, but then he left.

Perhaps he's in the bar.

Maxim!

Inspector, the widow
stated his watch is missing.

As is his wallet.

One bullet in the shoulder,
one bullet in the chest.

I, uh, shall have a word
with, uh, Madam Soury...

and the other ladies
who discovered the body.

Uh, Madam Taylor?

Ah. Why did Monsieur
Soury leave the show early?

I believe he had to take
an overseas telephone call.

What happened? Did
he surprise a burglar?

Perhaps. What time
did he take this call?

Well, it was about
halfway through the show.

About 9:30, I think. I see.

And, uh, Madam Soury?

I am Claudia
Soury, Inspector. Ah.

My condolences, madam.

Now, uh, you were obviously not
here when this tragedy occurred?

No. I was in the ballroom
seated with Mrs. Fletcher.

Ah, yes, Mrs. Jessica
Fletcher. American.

Jessica Fletcher?

- Possibly J.B. Fletcher,
the mystery writer?
- Yes.

Oh, I'm honored, Mad— Inspector
Hughes Panassie, Paris Police.

I have enjoyed with
such great relish—

I'm sorry.

I give the free translation.

Um, The Damsel Who Waltzed at the Ball and
Was Buried at Dawn. That's not your book?

I call it The Corpse
Danced at Midnight.

Ah! Inspector, you said
perhaps this is a burglary.

The other officer said Maxim's watch
and wallet were missing. I assumed...

In any other circumstance, I might
be inclined to accept the obvious.

But, madam, forgive me,
because your husband was a man...

I knew to be on the fringe
of the Paris underworld.

Anything is
possible in this case.

My late husband was
merely a businessman.

He did not
associate with killers.

Thank you for your opinion
in this matter, madam.

The hotel has given me
another room for the night.

That is, if you don't have
any more questions. Of course.

Madam Taylor, you're
free to return to your flat,

but make sure that my
man has your phone number.

Jessica, thank
you for being here.

Will you be all right? Sure.
I'll talk to you in the morning.

All right.

It must have been about
10 minutes before 10:00,

just before I went off duty.

I heard a shot, or
something like a shot.

It crossed my mind it might
be a champagne cork pop.

Inspector Panassie said that
Monsieur Soury was shot twice.

One, two. I was down
the hall in the linen room.

I cannot be sure of anything.

And when you came
out of the linen room,

did you see anyone leave this
room or anything unusual at all?

No one came out.

But I did see a woman
running for the elevator.

A guest on the floor?
Someone you might recognize?

I saw her only from the back.

A woman wearing a big hat and
a long white coat with gray checks.

Gray checks? Yes, madam.

White hat and coat, hmm?

Officer, my husband has
been waiting for hours.

The hotel was sealed off
before I was able to go home.

You may leave now.

Madam Fletcher.

The talk in the hotel
lobby is that your

friend Eva Taylor will
be the rage of Paris.

Look, please, at this
partnership agreement.

Have you any idea why a
woman with the world at her feet...

signs half that world away to
a man such as Maxim Soury?

I'm afraid that you're
more familiar with

Monsieur Soury's character
than I am, Inspector.

It's not the victim's
character I am inquiring

about. It is your
friend, Eva Taylor.

Well, I will speak
to our new star...

in the fashion heavens.

Airplane tickets? Yes, made out to Madam
and Monsieur Soury for next weekend.

Ah, the Italian Riviera!

Oh, it's warm and sunny there.

It's well within my means.

Perhaps, uh...

Inspector.

Perhaps the woman
was looking for this.

It was in his pocket.

I do not think it is for
madam's eyes. Ooh-la-la.

Inspector?

I'm sorry. This is
police business.

But surely I'm not a suspect.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, madam.

But I— I'm a gentleman.

Suffice to say, it is a photograph
of a man and a woman.

But the picture is torn in half.

It is the, uh—It is the bottom
half. It is most indelicate.

Knowing the late
Monsieur Soury as I did,

I am now certain that we are
not talking about a simple robbery.

We may be involved with
pornography and perhaps blackmail.

Sir, the others involved
with Monsieur Soury's

fashion enterprise
await you in the ballroom.

I have to seal off this room until we
have completely dusted for fingerprints.

Aha. Inspector, would
you mind if I joined you?

Of course. It would
be my pleasure.

Obviously, I fascinate her.

And the bellman fetched
Monsieur Soury at about 9:30?

Yeah. I pointed him out. Ah.

May I ask you, which
of you were aware...

that Eva Taylor
had sold half of her

interest in The Taylored
Look earlier today?

If you're suggesting Eva
killed him, it's impossible.

She was backstage
running the show,

getting the girls in
and out of their gowns.

She couldn't have possibly left
and killed him during the show.

And, uh, you are, uh...

Peter Appleyard,
Miss Taylor's assistant.

And tell me, Monsieur Appleyard,

how did you know that Monsieur
Soury was killed during the show?

Well, I— I told him, Inspector.

It's all over the hotel about the maid
who heard the shots before 10:00.

You all saw Eva
throughout the show?

- Absolutely.
- Yes.

What a remarkable woman
to have such loyal employees...

with such acute
powers of observation.

Ho!

Hello, operator, would
you try a Miss Eva Taylor...

at 32 Rue St. Honore?

I don't have the number.

Thank you.

Claudia, I'm sorry to bother
you so late, but it is important.

I feel very awkward
about this, but a very dear

friend of mine is in a
great deal of trouble.

Why, of course. Please, come in.

Please.

My room is across the courtyard from your
former suite where your husband was killed.

I couldn't help but
notice you returned there.

I forgot my stole. The police
have the room sealed off.

A gendarme was kind
enough to escort me in.

Yes, but the gendarme wasn't aware of
everything that you took from the room?

While the inspector was
interrogating me earlier in that room,

I saw a coat
button on the floor.

I'm sure it belonged to the woman who
spent the afternoon in Maxim's suite...

before I came into town.

His mistress, Valerie Bechet.

She sings in his club.

I've known about
them for over a year.

Well, then why protect her?

I protect my two teenage
daughters from scandal.

But you may be
protecting a murderer.

I think not. They
loved each other.

Did you know that your husband was going
away next weekend to the Italian Riviera?

Two plane tickets were found.

And the trip would
include Valerie, not me.

Over the years, I've
closed my eyes...

to his women and
his business ventures.

His business— Did
it include blackmail?

- Pornography, perhaps?
- Nothing would surprise me.

May I see the button?

Oh, Lord.

- Jessica, what is it?
- I'm sorry, Claudia.

You're going to have to tell
the inspector about this button.

Exactly where you
found it. Everything.

It's easy enough for you,
Jessica. You're not involved.

You don't know
how wrong you are.

The lawyers were here
at 8:00 with a buyer.

You see how quickly those
jackals descend, Inspector?

Good morning. Ah!
Madam Fletcher.

How charming to
see you again so soon.

I was just finishing up
some, uh, routine questioning.

You know Madam Bechet. I haven't
had the pleasure. Jessica Fletcher.

- How do you do?
- I know that you were close
to Monsieur Soury.

- I'm so sorry.
- Thank you.

I was just telling the inspector how
anxious I've been these last few months...

trying to quit this old place.

My career was at a standstill.

And when I mentioned it to
Maxim, he was very understanding.

Why, you know, he even called one of
those fancy hotels on the Right Bank...

and got me an engagement
for this coming Saturday evening.

Madam Bechet, I have determined that
Maxim's room was not entered forcibly.

He admitted his killer,
or his killer had a key.

Now, you were,
forgive me, his mistress.

I loved him, Inspector,

but his wife was coming in
from the country that night.

Besides, we were not
hot-breathed teenagers...

waiting to catch some moments of
passion together whenever we could.

No, I never set foot
in his room like that.

Pardon. I have cleaned
out my locker, Valerie.

Would you close up? Certainly.

Good luck, Albert.

Madam Bechet, just where were
you between 9:30 and 10:00 last night?

My first show finished at 9:30.

I was here resting until
my second show at 10:30.

Valerie, I don't think so. No.

Inspector, she was not here.

- Oh, but I was, Albert.
- Go on, Albert.

Well, don't you remember? Your
first show started very late last night.

You were still on
stage until nearly 10:00.

You seem
disappointed, Inspector.

Despite the woman's alibi,
Panassie's instincts tell him...

that this was a
crime of passion.

A woman is involved.
Of that, I am certain.

Inspector.

Good news. We found
the murder weapon.

Excellent, Luter!

Monsieur Soury's killer must have hidden
it in a room service tray in the hall.

A waiter has carried the
tray down to the kitchen,

and the dishwasher spotted
it and called the department.

The circle tightens.

There is, uh, however, a
small problem, monsieur.

Problem?

Another maid
stepped forth, and, uh,

she said that she heard
a shot shortly after 10:00.

A different maid than the one
who heard the shot before 10:00?

How odd. Not odd at all, madam.

This other maid is simply trying to get her
picture in the paper like everyone else.

Take this weapon down to
headquarters and have it tested.

Yes, sir.

Panassie will not be swayed
from his original theory.

We are looking for a woman
wearing a long white coat...

who put two shots in Monsieur
Soury at 10 minutes to 10:00.

Does that rational approach
surprise you, madam?

Not a bit. Not one bit.

Countess, you look stunning!

That color would
be smashing on you.

Lu! Oh, Lu, darling, I am
so sorry. I know, I know.

I will write the check immediately.
Thank you, Eva. I'm just a little strapped.

Can you believe it? A
week ago, the only thing

I could get out of Vogue
was a subscription.

Now they want me for a
cover story! That's great.

- Jessica!
- Is there anywhere we can talk?

Oh, I'd love to, but I simply
have to call Giorgio's in the States.

It's important.

6:00, Jess. We'll have
drinks at Harry's American Bar.

No, 6:00 is too late. This is
nothing to have drinks over.

I tried to reach you several times last
night, and your phone was busy all morning.

I was out with some
buyers from Dallas.

By 3:00 in the morning, they were
talking seven-figure guarantees.

Then I took my phone off the hook
so I could sleep. Jessica, what is it?

Eva, a maid at the
hotel saw a woman...

running down the hall toward the
elevator moments after Maxim was shot.

The woman was wearing a
white coat with a gray stripe.

But that's crazy. The only time I was on
Maxim's floor is when we found his body.

And a button just like yours was
found in Maxim's room by his wife.

There's one missing.

But that can't be. What
cannot be, madam?

This, perhaps?

But a dozen witnesses saw her
working backstage during the show.

Busy witnesses, none of whom
observed Madam Taylor constantly.

In such confusion, she could
have left, killed Maxim and returned.

The elevators were but a
step away. That's ridiculous!

And with him gone, you wipe
away a greedy, lifelong partner...

in what the fashion page calls "the
return of the great Coco Chanel."

No. Inspector, you're wrong.

If Eva had killed Maxim,
why didn't she take

the partnership
agreement away with her?

Why leave it behind?

She was in a great
hurry to return downstairs.

She didn't have
time to look for it.

But as you observed, the killer had
time to turn Maxim's suite inside out.

I have boiled the ragout down...

to the simple meat and potatoes
you Americans can understand.

A maid identifies Eva's coat. Eva's
button is found in the victim's room.

And Eva's motive is the
second oldest one in the book.

Oh!

Marie, do you remember me?

We spoke last night. Oui, madam.

Last evening, you said that
you heard what you thought

sounded like a shot at
10 minutes before 10:00.

- Yes.
- But apparently the police
spoke to another maid...

who claims that she heard the
shot at 10 minutes after 10:00.

That was me—Yvette.
And I do not claim.

I know what I heard. But these
stupid police, they will not listen.

Well, I'm listening
very intently,

and something is
beginning to become clear.

Madam? Both of you heard a shot,

you, Marie, at 10 minutes before 10:00,
and you, Yvette, at 10 minutes after 10:00.

Now, if the two bullets that were
fired into Maxim Soury's body...

were fired from the same gun, they
must have been fired 20 minutes apart.

How very clever of you.

If you are so clever, madam, perhaps
you can explain our unsolved mystery.

Where are the two towels?

The two towels?

I put two fresh towels in Monsieur
Soury's room that afternoon.

When the police permitted me to clean
the room the next day, they were gone.

The head of housekeeping
is holding me responsible.

And since obviously Monsieur
Soury did not steal them, who did?

Two towels.

Thank you, Marie.
Thank you very much.

Americans.

Mrs. Fletcher. Well, you're
up unfashionably early.

Well, I'm sorry to bother you.

Remember late in the show the
mix-up in the order of the two dresses?

Do I? Yes.

It was supposed to be Lu in
the white, then Margo in this blue.

Eva blamed me, but I don't know how
it happened. I checked the order myself.

Well, it's got no zipper,
no buttons in the back.

Not even a hook to fret with.

That, Mrs. Fletcher,
is the beauty of it.

Even I could get in
and out of that gown

without any help in the
dark in five seconds...

if I, uh, were partial
to women's clothing.

Suppose for a moment
that Lu Waters...

had deliberately
switched dresses.

How much time do you think
it might have taken for her...

to get out of the previous dress
and then reappear in the blue one?

Maybe 10 minutes.

Well, the show was almost over.
It was about a quarter to 10:00.

I suppose it's
conceivable that Lu could

have taken the elevator
up to Maxim's room...

and still made it back on
stage by five minutes of 10:00.

Mrs. Fletcher, do you realize
what you're suggesting?

Not suggesting,
Peter. Considering.

One thing I'm sure of: Eva Taylor
did not kill that man. Oh, I agree.

But Lu Waters? Why, for heaven's sake?
What motive could she possibly have?

That, Peter, is the one part of
the puzzle that is still missing.

And by wearing the blue dress
intended for the other model,

Lu Waters would have been able to
leave backstage for at least 10 minutes.

To commit a murder disguised
in Madam Taylor's coat and hat.

Well, as I said,
it's only a theory.

But a brilliant one, Madam
Fletcher. I bow to your ingenuity.

There is, as you said, only
one missing ingredient— motive.

And I, Panassie, will add that
soupçon of spice to the recipe.

You are, perhaps, Dr. Watson
to my Sherlock Holmes.

My search of French bank
accounts turned up no indication...

that any of the suspects
was being blackmailed.

So I made discreet inquiries into
some American back accounts.

Lu Waters's bank, perhaps?

We must move quickly
before the suspect...

and the corroborating
witnesses leave Paris.

Come, Watson. The game is afoot.

Hundreds of people...

saw the mix-up of the
dresses— The white for the blue.

But only I— Well, with the
help of Madam Fletcher...

I maintain that Lu Waters...

purposely switched
gowns with Margo.

Switched gowns? What
is this man talking about?

What must have occurred,
Mademoiselle Waters, is this.

Towards the end of the
show, you saw Maxim...

go up to his room, and you
wished to follow him to kill him.

To do this, you had to get
away without being seen.

You switched your
dress for Margo's.

No one had to help
you in or out of it.

Then you put on Madam
Taylor's coat and hat...

not to frame her— Though
it subsequently did—

But to conceal a famous woman...

wearing a striking gown in
the hotel lobby and elevator.

Everyone else was too
busy to notice you slip away.

Me kill Maxim Soury?

I only met the man that
day. That's true, Inspector.

"Met" perhaps, madam.

But you knew him all too well.

He had been blackmailing
you from afar for over a year.

I get it.

You can't pin this on one American,
so you're head-hunting for another.

Mademoiselle Waters, you are a highly
successful model who makes a lot of money.

Still, your bank account
is always drained.

You meet Eva Taylor at a party,

and you sign on at once
to model for the money.

And two days later, you are in the
salon hovering around to get your fee.

I ask myself, why? Why, indeed?

With the help from my dear friends
of the French Passport Bureau,

I can now place you in
this country six years ago...

at about the time...

when this and other
dubious photographs...

were being taken.

When you left the ballroom, you
didn't go directly to Maxim Soury's room,

but rather to your own room, which
was also located on the eighth floor...

just down the hall
from Maxim's room.

You got the gun you
own, and you came out.

It must have been
tormenting to find yourself...

suddenly working for a man
who had been blackmailing you.

You couldn't
contain your hatred.

You entered Maxim's
room, and you shot him.

With only minutes to spare to return
to the fashion show in your blue gown,

you exited at once
for the perfect alibi—

The runway.

Is that not the way it
happened, mademoiselle?

Six years ago, I ran
away from home to Paris.

This man I met said that I could
earn some quick, easy bucks.

And I'm ashamed of it now.

The police raided the magazine, and the
photographs of me were never published.

And then a year ago,

Maxim somehow got a hold
of those old photographs.

He threatened to expose them if I didn't
mail cash to a post office box in Paris.

He promised that he would
destroy those negatives,

and he never did.

Yes, I killed him, and
I'm not sorry that I did.

I'm only sorry that I
didn't get away with it.

Perhaps if I had not panicked when I
realized that Madam Soury was in the suite—

Madam Soury? But she was
in the audience next to me.

Well, then whose purse
was that in his suite?

Lu, was it a red purse?

Yes, I think it was.

The color is immaterial.
Place her in custody.

Panassie has done it again, huh?

- Yes, Inspector, I think you have.
- Merci, madam.

I think you've once again
arrested the wrong woman.

What?





Mrs. Fletcher.
Inspector. How flattering.

You remembered my
engagement here this evening.

I'm afraid, Madam Bechet, it
is not out of musical interest.

Oh, surely it's not
the investigation.

My daughter said the American model
had confessed and is now in custody.

Well, she may have
confessed, Valerie, but I'm

afraid she's guilty only
of attempted murder.

She fired one shot at Monsieur
Soury at 10 minutes before 10:00.

It wounded him in the shoulder.

When he fell, she
thought she had killed him,

but the fatal shot to his heart
was fired 20 minutes later... by you.

Oh, Inspector, this is absurd.

Madam Bechet, Monsieur Soury
had purchased two plane tickets...

for the Riviera this weekend.

Now, who was going to
be his traveling companion?

Not his wife, and
surely not you.

As you stated, Maxim had personally
arranged for your engagement here.

No, I'm afraid, uh,
his companion...

was to be his newest
love— Your daughter.

Oh, that's a monstrous
suggestion! Why, she's just a child.

Valerie, we think we have a
pretty good idea how it all happened.

When Lu fired a shot thinking she'd
killed Maxim, she left the gun and fled.

And as you said, you were at
Maxim's club when that shot was fired.

A blackmailer shot by
his victim wouldn't call

a doctor or the police.
He'd call a friend.

You, Valerie. By that time,
you had just left the stage.

Unobserved, you took a five-minute
taxi ride from the club to his hotel.

While trying to stop his
bleeding, you saw the red purse...

your daughter was supposed
to be modeling in the show.

You had seen her with it
earlier that day. We all did.

When Lu Waters told us that...

she saw that red purse in Maxim's
room, all the pieces fell together.

It was all right for Maxim
to cheat on his wife,

but when he cheated on his mistress
with his mistress's own daughter—

You finished the job Lu
had begun 20 minutes earlier.

You took Maxim's wallet and
watch to make it look like a robbery...

and stowed the purse and the gun in your
bag, along with the bloodstained towels.

- No.
- Madam Bechet,

the only way that red purse could have
found its way into your dressing room...

was if you took it from Maxim's
room to protect your daughter.

What?

When the inspector and I were in
your dressing room after the murder,

we both looked right at the red purse,
but neither of us connected it at the time.

No, that was my purse.

Kim wore her own
in the fashion show.

Well, Eva had a photographer
to shoot the fashion show.

There's Kim in the finale.

Now, the other models
are both carrying purses.

But where's Kim's?

Valerie, the inspector
could question your daughter,

but do you really want
to put her through that?

At first, I suspected Maxim
had his eye on Eva Taylor.

I even encouraged him to hire Kim
so that she could keep her eye on him.

I long ago surrendered
myself to that man,

along with my dreams.

But how could I give
my daughter away?





On the outside, Panassie is the
tough-as-nails police inspector,

but deep down,
like all Frenchmen,

I am a sentimental
romantic at heart.

Ah, well,

your half of this check
comes to 120 francs, madam.