Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 6, Episode 19 - Always a Thief - full transcript

These foreigners
coming over here

and buying up our
country piece by piece.

Well, they will not
get the Stuart dollar.

Who do I have to kill?

Your mother is an
obstinate woman.

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder She Wrote.

Mr. Stanton, I have
nothing to say to you.

You can't expect to get
away with this, you know.

Dad had you pegged years ago.

Too bad I didn't listen.

Yeah, there are
times I wish you had.



Why are you so curious
about my nephew's activities?

Am I?

Do you have a
hearing problem, sir?

Just a quick hello,
nothing more.

DENNIS: Well, as you
might guess, Jessica,

that was a singularly
satisfying evening.

The beautiful widow, having
reverted back to married status,

immediately heaped any and all available
blame on her husband, poor fellow.

(LAUGHING) Last time I saw him,

he was actually
looking forward to prison.

Well, that's all I have
to report this time.

I do hope you're planning
a West Coast visit soon.

It's been far too long. In fact,
the ladies of San Francisco

do not measure up to
you in any department.



Love as always, Dennis.

In case you couldn't guess,
my old friend Dennis Stanton

hates writing letters.

On the other hand, he loves
the sound of his own voice.

Actually, this seems like a
marvelous way to keep in touch.

Many of you will remember
Dennis from the first time I met him.

His occupation was a little
different then. Jewel thief,

second-story man, con artist.

I'm happy to say
events conspired

to turn him into a very respectable
member of the community.

His work habits
haven't changed much,

but at least now he's working
on the right side of the law.

What's the old bromide?

Set a thief to catch a thief?

Dennis doesn't have to bilk the
insurance companies anymore.

In fact, they pay him handsomely

to outwit other thieves.

In fact, he is such a dashing
and unorthodox figure,

I'm half tempted to base
one of my stories on him.

I confess that's
actually not my idea,

but then, modesty was
never one of Dennis' attributes.

Several months ago,
he sent me this tape,

describing a case
that he just solved.

And, very honestly,
I'm intrigued.

Let's see what you think.

DENNIS ON TAPE: Jessica,
darling, I have just finished up

the most fascinating adventure,
which I couldn't wait to tell you about.

It all started several days ago,

a few blocks from
Fisherman's Wharf.

The Pepperpot Café.

MAN: Look, I only know
what's written on the invoice,

and it says C.O.D.

I gotta have a check.

This is some sort of mix-up.

There's no mix-up,
sir. There it is.

I double-checked it
before I left the warehouse.

No money, no lobster.

Just a moment.

LANNY: Yes, what is it?

Excuse me, Mr. Douglas,

can I speak with you privately?

No, I'm busy.

Sir, it's just that

the delivery's here
from the warehouse

and they need a check.

For what? We always
pay at the end of the month.

I told him that, Mr. Douglas.

Well, tell him again, Joey,

and please shut the
door on your way out.

I don't want to be
disturbed, you got that?

Yes, sir.

Money, money, money, money.

Isn't money the root of most
of our problems, Mr. Douglas?

Well, if you don't count my wife,
my bad knees and my golf swing.

Look, Mr. Amini,

you didn't come here to drink my coffee
and chat about my business problems.

But, in a way, I did.

You are probably aware that,
for the past several weeks,

I have been attempting
to buy from your mother

the famous Gilbert
Stuart 1804 silver dollar.

You're the guy.

She mentioned it.

By now you must know
it's not for sale at any price.

Not at any price?

You and I know better
than that, Mr. Douglas.

13 years ago,
your late father paid

almost half a million
dollars for that coin.

One of a kind, why not?

Since then, it doubled in value.

I'm willing to pay
double that amount.

Two million?

Look, if you wanna
throw your money away,

how about investing in
a struggling restaurant?

You know, at the time
of your father's death

this was a thriving
establishment.

But now, even the tourists
are going elsewhere.

The trend does not
inspire confidence.

I'm not sure why
you're here, pal,

but I'm not interested.

Not even in $200,000?

In cash?

A present from me to you.

Who do I have to kill?

Your mother is an
obstinate woman,

but perhaps open to persuasion
from someone she holds dear.

I get it.

I talk her into selling you
the Stuart silver dollar.

And I give you 10% finder's fee.

Think it over, Mr. Douglas.

As I told your mother,
I pay cash for the coin.

No one need ever know,
not even your tax people.

Do I make myself understood?

Clearly, Mr. Amini.

Very clearly.

Thank you.

And I hope I'll see
you again soon.

LANNY: Mother, we're
talking two million dollars.

I already have
two million dollars.

Considerably more, in
fact, as you very well know.

I mean, your father
loved that coin

'cause it was part
of our heritage.

I get so angry

at these foreigners
coming over here

and buying up our
country piece by piece.

Well, they will not
get the Stuart dollar.

Not at any price.

Now shoo, darling, shoo,

and let me finish my gardening.

Pedro,

I think we're gonna need some
more mulch on these beds, don't you?

Yes, ma'am, I'll get
some from the garage.

Tough luck, sweetheart.

For once, the old
schmaltz failed you.

Unbelievable.

Do you really need this, Andrea?

It's not even 2:00 yet.

It's a pre-dinner cocktail.

I was just getting a head start.

Oh, I talked to my dad about
lending us some more money.

Yeah, and what did he say?

He was amused.

Did you tell him I intended
to pay him back with interest?

That's what amused him most.

Lay off, Andrea.

You know, you've got it
pretty good around here.

Oh, sure. You mean living in
this multimillion-dollar estate.

'Course, it's not my husband's.

He can't even afford to put me up in a
two-bedroom town house in Daly City.

But then, as long as Mama's
around to take care of her little boy,

I guess I won't want
for a damned thing.

Lucky me.

You know, Dad had
you pegged years ago.

Too bad I didn't listen.

Yeah, there are
times I wish you had.

Let go of me, Lanny.

Sometimes I wonder why I
stay in this lousy marriage.

Maybe I'm a masochist.

Or maybe you're afraid
to admit to yourself,

or to your dad, that
you made a mistake.

That, too.

Well, darling, much as I hate

to deprive you of my
companionship this evening,

I have to spend
the night in the city.

Oh, really? What's her name?

Is it one of my friends, huh?

Please, Lanny, spare me that.
Make it someone I don't know.

It's business.

Oh, I'm sure it is. For her.

You know, if you call here
tonight, I may not be here.

You're not the only one
who knows how to play.

Lanny!

(DOOR CLOSING)

(GLASS BREAKING)

Hey! What are you doing here?

Mr. Douglas?

Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I heard a noise
and I thought it was a prowler.

(GROANING)

(EXPLOSION)

I went over all of this last night,
Lieutenant, with one of your other men.

Yes, ma'am.
I'll try to be brief.

You say you heard the
explosion around 3:00?

3:05, to be precise.

I'm a light sleeper

and I thought I
heard voices outside.

A man's voice in particular.

I looked at my
watch and I thought

I must be dreaming.

I got out of bed and
started towards the bathroom

and then I heard this
tremendous explosion downstairs.

I ran down the stairs

and found the safe
had been blown open.

Well, I was
terrified, naturally.

And I called you
people immediately,

but I didn't know
about poor Pedro

until one of your men
found him later on the patio.

This safe, what
do you keep in it?

Cash.

A few thousand dollars.

Some jewelry, stock
certificates, important papers.

And a very valuable silver
dollar. It's a collector's item.

Now, when you
say very valuable...

It's worth over
a million dollars.

Excuse me.

I just thought you'd
like some coffee.

Oh, thank you, Grace. How nice.

Lieutenant, will you join me?

No, thank you.

Excuse me, Mrs. Douglas.

I may have a few more
questions for you a little later.

Stanton!

Good morning, Lieutenant.

Did you notice this marvelous
William Merritt Chase?

I was sure it was hanging
in a gallery in Boston.

You know, I don't get it.

Every time I get
called in on a case,

there you are
brightening up my life.

Oh, thank you, Perry.

And I was beginning
to feel unloved.

What are you doing here?

The thief made off with a
valuable coin my firm had insured.

Right, a silver dollar.

Designed by Gilbert
Stuart, the noted portraitist.

Although the coin was
commissioned by John Adams,

it was actually Thomas
Jefferson who finally brought it to...

Thanks for the history lesson.

The safe's in there. Take a
look, then get out of my way.

Oh, but I've looked.

I was waiting to speak privately
with Mrs. Douglas, if I may.

Make it quick.

Thank you so much, Lieutenant.

And a cheery good
morning to you.

Excuse me.

Mrs. Douglas?

Yes?

Dennis Stanton,
Consolidated Casualties.

Oh, yes, Mr. Stanton.

My sister, Grace Lambert.

How do you do?

Charmed, Miss Lambert.

I'm terribly sorry about
your loss, Mrs. Douglas,

and especially the
death of your gardener.

I want to assure you that we intend
to do everything humanly possible

to retrieve your coin.

Thank you.

Tell me,

do you ladies live here
in this house alone?

My son and daughter-in-law have been
staying with us for the past two years.

How lovely for you.

And they were here last night?

My daughter-in-law was.

My son was in San
Francisco for the evening.

We finally located him.

He should be back
any second now.

He was staying with friends?

Or a hotel?

A hotel.

Excuse me, Mr. Stanton,

but why are you so curious
about my nephew's activities?

Am I?

Were you?

Of course I was.

So, what do you think
it was? An inside job?

Without a doubt.

The mother's been hounded
for the past several weeks

to sell the silver dollar
for an exorbitant sum.

She refuses, despite
pressure from her son.

Now, the son is a man
with a talent for bankruptcy.

Whereas his father
managed to grow a mighty oak,

young Langston Douglas

has managed to whittle it
down to a pile of toothpicks.

Ever eat at the Pepperpot Café?

Not if I can help it.

Good girl. Your
palate is improving.

In any event, that
once-thriving food empire

is under siege
from the creditors

who are threatening to
padlock the entire operation.

Yeah, but just
because the guy's broke

doesn't mean he's
gonna... Rhoda, darling,

what's the last thing you
do when you close your safe?

I wouldn't know.
The last safe I had

was a pink piggy
with a slot in its back.

Yes, well, the last thing
you do is spin the dial.

But a curious thing,

the Douglas safe was blown
apart with the dial still set

on the final digit of the
combination. Very odd.

And then there's the timetable.

Monica Douglas was awake
when the explosion occurred.

And she rushed
downstairs immediately.

There was no way that a thief

could have blown the
safe and then ransacked it

and then run through the door
to be confronted by the gardener.

No, no, no, no. No.

What is far more likely

is that Langston Douglas
let himself into the house,

opened the safe,

rifled it and then,
as he was leaving,

created the impression
that someone had broken in.

You know, if you're right, then
this guy is also guilty of murder.

In which case, he'll
hardly be disposed

to negotiate for
the coin, will he?

Well, dear heart,
the game is afoot.

Now, I want you to
query the hotel personnel.

Find out when and if
Douglas was observed

either leaving or
returning to the hotel,

particularly during the
early morning hours.

Then find out what you can
about an Iraqi rug merchant

named Mahmoud Amini.

I think he's in the
Yellow Pages. Amini.

He's been pestering Mrs.
Douglas for weeks to sell that coin.

And on the off chance that Mr. Butler
wants to know where you are?

Tell him I'm off to
confront the viper in his pit.

Mr. Douglas?

Excuse me.

Sorry, sir, we don't
open until 6:00.

Oh, actually, I'm here
to see Mr. Douglas.

Sorry, he's not available.

Odd, the gentleman in the white
hat said that he was in the office.

And Mr. Douglas left
orders not to be disturbed.

Ah, so he has someone with him.

I don't know.

Look, Mr. Stanton,

there's another
entrance from the outside.

For all I know, he's got
the Rose Bowl Queen

and her court in there.

And when a man
says, "Do not disturb,"

I do not disturb. Okay?

Suppose I take responsibility?

Do you have a
hearing problem, sir?

Just a quick hello,
nothing more.

Word of honor.

Mr. Douglas?

He seems to have stepped out.

Yeah, I guess so.

Now, how about you
step out before I call a cop?

Of course.

Now, Mr. Stanton.

How long was he in here?

A couple of hours.

And no one went in or out?

Nobody I saw. Now,
goodbye, Mr. Stanton!

Thanks so much.

You've been such a help.

Of course you haven't had
any luck finding Lanny Douglas,

and I doubt if you
will, at least not alive.

What are you talking about?

Homicide, intentional or otherwise,
in his office, sometime this afternoon

between 2:30 and 4:30.

There's enough fresh
blood on his carpet

to satisfy an
undernourished vampire,

and a particularly
gaudy golf trophy

missing from the
shelf behind his desk.

I suspect someone may have mistaken
Mr. Douglas' head for a range ball.

Just because there's blood
doesn't mean he's dead.

Oh, and by the way, as I
drove up, a late-model Lincoln,

partial plate 2-B-R something,

final digit 4,

came roaring out of the alley,

a man behind the
wheel. Not Douglas.

Stanton, what
are you getting at?

Lieutenant, I have cast
my pearls before you.

Don't ask me to
string them for you, too.

Dear heart, this is first-rate.

Mr. Amini sounds like a
man of infinite resources

as well as limited scruples.

Well done.

Thank you.

So, what about putting
in a good word for me

with the company
training program?

Done, done and done, Rhoda.

I've had no less than three
conversations with Mr. Butler.

Obviously, my imprecations
have fallen on deaf ears.

Still, I will try again
at the first opportunity.

Word of honor.

Now, if you need me, I'm
seeing a man about a rug.

AMINI: You have a
discerning eye for beauty, sir.

19th Century,
handmade in Baghdad.

And the workmanship is flawless.

20th Century,
machine-made in Taiwan,

and the blues are
bleeding into the reds.

Not possible, sir. Not possible.

I have a certificate
of authenticity.

And I have several friends
on the bunco squad, Mr. Amini.

And now that we have compared
credentials, let's talk business.

I'm interested in
purchasing a coin from you.

Your reputation as a
numismatist is legendary.

Oh.

I have a poor collection, sir.

Nothing extraordinary.

Not even the 1804
Gilbert Stuart silver dollar?

I'm afraid you
are mistaken, sir.

I possess no such coin.

Now, now, Mr. Amini,

if you will credit me
with a little intelligence,

I'll do the same for you.

Last night, the home
of Monica Douglas

was broken into by her
son posing as a burglar.

At shortly after
daybreak this morning,

Mr. Douglas was observed entering
the rear door of your premises.

I doubt if he was here to purchase
one of your Taiwanese knockoffs.

Again, sir, you are mistaken.

The usual sentence for
receiving stolen goods

is two to five years
in the state prison.

For murder, it could
be the rest of your life.

Murder?

Lanny Douglas.

A depressingly
distinct possibility.

You are not the police.

The coin, Mr. Amini?

I don't have it.

Yes, Mr. Douglas
did give me a coin.

If you want it, you can have it.

It's a fake, Mr. Stanton.

A cleverly forged counterfeit.

And when did you discover
Mr. Douglas' duplicity?

Later this morning.

A fellow collector
confirmed my suspicions.

I presume you had already
paid Mr. Douglas in cash.

Two million dollars neatly
stacked in a briefcase.

I phoned him up
immediately, of course.

Of course. And what
was his reaction?

Outrage. Or a fairly
convincing facsimile.

He assured me he
did not try to cheat me,

that the coin he sold me was
the one he has taken from the safe.

In fact, we agreed to
meet here this evening

to iron the matter out.

Now, your suggestion
that he may be dead

is distressing, Mr. Stanton.

Most distressing,
indeed, to say the least.

WOMAN: Mr. Butler's office.

I'm sorry, Mr. Butler's
not available.

He's in with Mr. Stanton.

DEIRDRE: It's a fake, all right.

This was handmade,
not minted from dies.

Hell of a job, too.

Once again, Deirdre,
I am indebted to you.

Well, I don't suppose
that you would

like to convert
that gratitude into,

say, dinner for two, some
cozy place, like my dining room?

An invitation too
tempting to ignore.

Let me call you.

Oh, Dennis, you've been
threatening to call me for over a year.

Friday night, 7:30?

Or next time you can
authenticate your own damn coin.

The price one pays.

Okay, okay.

All right, if that's a fake,
who's got the real one?

Douglas?

Doubtful.

I'll give you something
else to ponder, Robert.

Not only is the
silver dollar missing,

but so, apparently, is
Mr. Amini's two million in cash.

Mr. Stanton.

This is nice.

Early Cellini, I'd say.

Is it authentic? Of course.

Oh, very nice.

I'm sorry, Mr. Stanton,

but my sister is unable
to see you just now.

She's worried about her son.

As I'm sure you're aware, he hasn't been
seen or heard from since early yesterday.

Perhaps if you
were to call next time

instead of just popping in.

You don't like me much,
Miss Lambert, do you?

I wish I knew why.

You're mistaken.
I hardly know you.

Oh, now, now, dear lady.

I can tell by the
set of your chin.

Honesty is one of
your greatest virtues.

If I've said anything to
offend you, I do apologize.

Charm comes easily
to you, Mr. Stanton.

Oh, I see. You
distrust good manners.

In some people.

Um, by the bye,
as I was arriving,

this gentleman
was just pulling out.

I thought I recognized him,

but the name flew
right out of my head.

Raymond Bascomb.

He came to see his daughter.

Andrea's father.

Oh, of course.

Bascomb. Bascomb.

Let me see. Isn't he in
advertising or something?

As I said, next time call first.

Good day.

Thank you.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

DENNIS: Good
morning, Lieutenant.

You're looking particularly
grim this morning.

Yeah, I guess I am.

I don't know how
you do it, Stanton.

Lanny Douglas.

We just found him at
the bottom of an arroyo.

Somebody had bashed his head in.

A couple of hikers found the
body this morning about 8:30.

He still had his
wallet, $200 in cash,

an expensive watch, and a ring.

So robbery wasn't the motive.

And the silver dollar?

No sign of it.

And the two million in cash?

That, either.

Then I don't think we
should be too quick

to rule out robbery as a motive.

What about Mr. Douglas' office?

The police searched it
last night, top to bottom.

No sign of the cash or the coin.

So, what do you think?

Amini went to the office
to get his money back,

picks up the trophy, slam,
bam, thank you, ma'am,

takes back his cash
and the real coin.

Dramatically exciting, but
totally at odds with the facts.

Bascomb, Bascomb...
Here we are. Here we are.

Bascomb and Tully Advertising.

You want me to
type up these notes?

Later. Later. Find out
who else in that household

had money problems,
and in particular,

the victim's aunt,
Grace Lambert,

who's lived with
them for 15 years.

How do I do that?

Oh, dear girl,

the family travels in
rarified social circles.

That silly newspaper columnist,

the one who says I
remind her of Lord Byron...

Yes, well, she'll tell you anything
if you ply her with enough flattery.

No! No, no.

Kissing up to rich, old
women is your thing.

I... Why... How...

Why would she talk to me?

Improvise.

Improvise? Oh, thanks, Dennis.

Thanks a lot!

(PHONE RINGING)

PHOTOGRAPHER:
Bring in the strobe light.

Okay, angle it
down. Great. Great.

Cue the wind.
Honey, look this way.

Great. Cue the pigeons!

Cue the pigeons!

(SHOUTING) Cue the pigeons!

Never mind! Cut the wind!

What the hell is
wrong with you people?

No, no, you heard right, Lou.

Yeah, I want the back cover.

Every issue through Christmas,

and I want an additional
five percent off the cards.

(PHOTOGRAPHER YELLING)

Lou, Lou, you're
not listening to me.

If you can't perform, I'll put my
client into the Sunday supplements.

Hold the pigeons! Now! No!

I said don't cue the pigeons!

God!

PHOTOGRAPHER: Somebody find
me the producer! What are you selling?

Deodorant. Oh, of course.

I should have realized.

Dennis Stanton, Mr. Bascomb.

Might you spare me a
few minutes of your time?

Do I know you?

No, but we nearly ran into
one another a couple of times.

I'm here in an official
capacity, I'm afraid.

The murder of Lanny Douglas.

Yeah, I heard about that guy.

A tragic situation. And I
was shocked, of course.

Of course.

And when did this shock occur?

Was that before or
after you killed him?

What was that?

I came by to see Mr. Douglas yesterday
afternoon just as you were leaving.

Somewhat hurriedly, I might add.

Since the fresh
blood indicated that

Mr. Douglas had been attacked in
his office, and the body was missing,

I leaped to the
fanciful conclusion

that somehow you
might be involved.

You're crazy.

I indicated as
much to the police.

That is the car I
saw you driving.

Who'd you say you were?

Dennis Stanton,
Consolidated Casualty.

Mr. Stanton, I have nothing to
say to you, now or in the future.

You can't expect to get
away with this, you know.

(SIRENS WAILING)

The body in the
trunk, for example.

No matter how hard you scrubbed,

they're still going to find
traces of the victim's blood.

It is also my understanding

that the police are
even now at the arroyo

where the body was found,

making plaster casts
of your tire tracks.

Correction. They
seem to have finished.

I was not happy with the
way he treated my daughter.

I found him to be obnoxious,

self-centered, untrustworthy.

Frankly, I liked to see as
little of the man as possible.

Listen, how many times are we
gonna have to go over this, huh?

Until I like your answers.

What were you doing
there? Why'd you go see him?

He wanted to borrow
some money from me.

I went there to tell him no.

I think he got the message.

I didn't kill him.

Then why did you move the body?

And don't tell me you didn't

because we've got
the blood samples,

we've got a match
of your tire tracks,

and we've got an
eyewitness who can put you

at the scene around
the time of the murder.

(PHONE RINGING)

What? MAN: Dr. Tollman's
here from the Coroner's office, sir.

He says he has to
speak to you privately.

Do yourself a favor.

Call a good lawyer.

While we have a moment,

you say you went to see
your son-in-law about money,

but isn't it a fact that you
didn't decide to go and see him

until you received a phone call in
your office around quarter to four?

I never remember any phone call.

It was from your daughter.

Your secretary recognized
her voice. No, that's not...

She sounded upset,
nearly hysterical.

Then you left,

although you had a meeting
with a very important client at 4:00.

My daughter had
nothing to do with this.

Oh, on the contrary,
Mr. Bascomb,

I think she had
everything to do with it.

I think she killed her husband

and persuaded
you to cover it up.

BASCOMB: My daughter
didn't kill anyone, either.

And incidentally, who elected
you homicide detective?

No one. No one.

I'm looking for a missing
coin and a missing briefcase.

I don't suppose you
noticed both or either

when you came by
to clean up the mess?

I told you.

And I told you I was there.

I saw you drive out.

So save the fairy
tales for the Lieutenant,

or better still, tell
us both the truth.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Oh, Mr. Stanton. Good day, sir.

Hello again, Phyllis.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Douglas
and her sister are out

making the arrangements.

Yes, of course.

Actually, I came to see
the younger Mrs. Douglas.

She's not here, either, sir.

Phyllis, now, now.

Of course she is. I
saw her at the window.

I'm sorry, sir, they
told me to say that.

No one's to see her.

No one at all.

I have my instructions.

(INAUDlBLE)

What do you want? Go away.

I can't.

Not while your father is being
booked for the murder of your husband.

May I come in?

I'd like to use your stairs.

That trellis is dangerous.

Thank you.

I knew he'd get in trouble.

All I wanted was advice.

I was so scared.

He told me he'd take care of it.

The police would never know.

That you'd killed your husband.

I still loved Lanny in spite of

everything he'd said and done.

I knew what he was, but...

We'd had a fight, and I
went to patch things up.

He just laughed at me.

He told me he didn't
need me anymore.

Not me, not my father's money.

He said it was over.

He didn't need a lush
for a wife anymore.

I'm sorry.

I suppose I was terrified

of ending up like
his Aunt Grace.

Alone, unmarried,

unloved.

She blew her big
chance ten years ago.

Well, I wasn't
about to blow mine.

I suppose I knew from the start

that Lanny was
only after my money.

After all, he had run
through most of his own

and his mother's,
until she'd had enough.

(SOBBING) I don't
know how it happened.

All of a sudden, I had that
stupid trophy in my hand.

It was covered with blood,

and Lanny was
lying on the floor.

I knew he was dead.

I ran out the rear door.

I guess no one saw me.

I am not gonna let my father

take the blame for
this, Mr. Stanton.

Good girl.

Would you drive me
to police headquarters?

Of course.

Just one thing. Now, I want
you to think very carefully.

While you were quarreling
with your husband,

did you happen to see
a brown leather briefcase

somewhere in the room?

No, I really...

Yes, actually, I do remember.

It was on the floor
alongside his desk.

Why? Does that mean something?

It may.

It wasn't there when
your father came

to collect the body.

Go home, fellas.
I'll close it up.

See you tomorrow.

Tell me, Mr. Freeman,

is that what they
mean by frozen assets?

How did you get in here?

I cannot tell a lie.

I sneaked in
unobserved before closing

and hid out in the basement.

That is Mr. Amini's two million
dollars in cash, I presume.

Correction. Joey
Freeman's two million dollars.

And don't come
any closer, Stanton.

I know all about your umbrella.

Not all, I'm afraid.

True, it does possess the
attributes of a sword cane,

but if that were all it did, it would
be a very poor weapon indeed.

(GROANS)

It also makes an excellent
club, Mr. Freeman.

Mr. Freeman?

Oh, well.

Excuse me.

DENNIS: Somewhere
between the time that Andrea

raced out of the office
and her father arrived,

the restaurant manager,
Mr. Freeman, went in.

He discovered the
briefcase full of cash

and, being a practical
man, he quickly hid it away.

He also decided to let someone
else discover your son's body.

When I appeared, I was
like a gift from heaven.

Imagine his confusion, though,

when we found the room empty.

What? I'm...

I'm sorry. I'm bad
company today, Mr. Stanton.

The services for my son
are this afternoon, you know.

An ordeal no mother
should have to endure.

My heart goes out to
Andrea, that poor child.

I know what Lanny
put her through.

But I never dreamed it
would end up like this.

Monica, I've made
it extra strong,

just the way you like it.

Thank you, Grace.

You're not going to join us?

Oh, no, thank you.
I've got so much to do.

Excuse me.

Your sister doesn't like me
very much, Mrs. Douglas.

Grace doesn't warm
easily to strangers.

Cream? No, thank you.

Perhaps I remind her of
someone she once knew.

Jerome Woodward?

That was ten years ago.

Who told you about him?

It's part of my job to
know who I'm dealing with.

Jerry Woodward
was a particularly ugly

and unfortunate
chapter in my sister's life.

Grace is an attractive woman,
but she's hardly glamorous.

She'd almost resigned
herself to spinsterhood

when Jerry appeared.

For over a year, it was
very difficult for all of us.

GRACE: Not for me.

I didn't find it
difficult at all.

For several months, Mr. Stanton,

it was the happiest
time of my life.

Then came the pain.

But even the pain is
better than what I have now.

Oh, darling,

have I hurt you? Have I made
you feel unloved, unwelcome?

Of course you haven't, Monica.

You've been wonderful.

I don't think you've ever had a
proper look at the grounds, Mr. Stanton.

May I show you?

I'd be delighted.

Excuse me.

You came to see me, didn't you?

You've figured it all out.

I think so.

Tell me about Jerome Woodward.

Oh.

There's not much to tell.

He was tall, handsome,
dashing, charming...

A lot like you, Mr. Stanton.

(CHUCKLING) Oh.

I'll take that as a compliment.

I was wined, dined,
flattered, fawned upon...

If ever an ugly duckling
was made to feel like a swan,

I was it.

But it wasn't long before
he came after the money.

I had quite a bit in those days.

A trust fund from my father.

Jerry ended up with most of it.

Toward the end, I
knew what he was doing.

But I didn't care.

I just wanted to buy a
little more time with him

because I knew when
the money was gone

that Jerry would be gone, too.

Is that when he approached
you about the coin?

Yes.

Yes, he knew all about the
famous Stuart silver dollar.

He said he needed money
to invest in Oregon logging.

A friend of his promised
that he would triple his money.

And he said he knew a silversmith
who could make a perfect copy.

No one need ever know
that they'd been switched.

Jerry...

Jerry even showed me
a photo of a little house

that he bought for
us in the mountains.

A lie, of course, just
like everything else.

Then one night I
took the original

and I substituted the fake.

That was ten years ago.
I haven't seen him since.

All these years, you persuaded
your sister not to sell the coin.

Yes.

So...

What now?

It's up to you and your sister.

My firm has no
obligation, obviously.

And as for the police,

the switching of the coins is only
a crime if they find out about it.

And they won't from me.

However, I do think you owe
your sister an explanation.

Oh, I've already told her
everything, Mr. Stanton.

As soon as the coin was
found to be counterfeit,

I made a full confession.

She said it was her
business and mine

and nobody else's.

You have quite a sister.

Oh, yes, I know.

Now,

let me tell you
something that I know.

Jerome Woodward was
a fool of the first order.

That is very kind
of you to say it.

Not kind at all.
I'm very serious.

And believe me, Miss
Lambert, I am an expert.

In my business,
you meet them all.

The long, the short,
the venal and the vain.

I could tell you stories...
Well, perhaps I will.

Would you be annoyed if
I invited myself to lunch?

Well, no, of course not.

Excellent!

(CHUCKLING) You know,
you've just reminded me

of a circus performer I knew.

He was an ex-juggler and
something of a ladies' man,

at least he thought he was.

(BOTH LAUGHING)