Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 7, Episode 16 - From the Horse's Mouth - full transcript

A clash between Kentucky Thoroughbred breeders leads to murder.

Unless you pay what you
owe me, I'm taking you to court.

It's going to take some
pretty fancy footwork

to tap dance around those two.

I'm damned if I do and
I'm damned if I don't.

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Have you thought of
hiring a private investigator?

Who would I hire?

(IN FOREIGN ACCENT) Harry
McGraw? Never heard of him.

Yeah, there was an
accident at the track.

Harry, how would you
like to slip into something

just a little more comfortable?



A horse? Your surprise
witness is a horse?

He's quite sensitive, you know.

(GRUNTS)

ANNOUNCER ON PA: Ladies and
gentlemen, a spectacular afternoon

of thoroughbred racing continues
now with our feature race.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

It's a $100,000
added stakes race.

(FANFARE PLAYING)

The call is riders up,

and the horses and jockeys
are coming onto the race track

for our feature race.

There's a field of eight.

Scratch number nine, Done Deal.

Seventh race post
time in moments.



Please place your wagers.

Looking ahead to the eighth
race, these changes. Big Palooka...

Two hundred on
Big Palooka, please.

I'm sorry, that's
number three, twice.

Thank you.

Race day madness strikes again.

Canny New England lady
transformed into high roller.

Oh, no. Anything
over two dollars

and the butterflies in my
stomach turn into hummingbirds.

This is for my friend Harry
McGraw back in Boston.

Oh, well, wait till the supermarket
rags break this scandal,

"J.B. Fletcher
moonlights as bookie."

Jessica, you remember
Todd, my fiancé?

Yes, of course.
Todd, how are you?

Hi, Jessica.

The bravest man in Kentucky.

The bravest man in
Kentucky? Oh, my!

The only trainer at the track
to defy that old boy network

and hire a woman vet.

Well, the real
reason I hired her

was so I could see how she
looked at 4:00 a.m. emergencies

before I popped
the question I see.

And have you set
the wedding date?

Sure.

The day after we get our respective
fathers to stop feuding with each other.

Oh.

Well, then we better elope.

The only way those two want to
bury the hatchet is in each other.

Would you like to join us?

I'd love to.

EMMALINE: Hi,
honey. Lot of luck. Yeah.

Have a nice day.

(NEIGHING)

Yeah, the same to you, honey.

What? What?

Oh, really?

Oh!

Oh, I really am
sorry to hear that.

Hear what, Miss Emmaline?

Big Palooka,

he just said he has this
monstrous headache.

Ah. He didn't happen to
slip you the winner, did he?

Why, Lamar Morgan,

that's complete nonsense.

Horses can't predict the future.

Did you just say Lamar Morgan?

Hello. Hi.

Are you the Lamar Morgan
of Morgan Hill Farm?

Why, yes. What can I
do for you, young lady?

I have something for you.

Oh?

You all have a nice
day, now, you hear?

What's wrong, Lamar?

Randolph Sterling.

But, Randolph, honey,

sailing the South Seas would be just
about the most romantic cruise ever.

Todd can manage the farm.

I can't spare the time, Althea.

It'll just be for a few weeks.

And after that, all the
cruises are booked solid.

The only thing I want
booked solid is King Paragon.

When a horse costs
me six million dollars,

nobody handles
the breeding but me.

I swear, I do not
understand your fascination

with arranging sexual
liaisons for horses.

Just keep in mind, my dear,

it's those liaisons that
buy the beautiful baubles

that put that
sparkle in your eyes.

Daddy!

There you are, Diana.

Wonderful news.

King Paragon's coming out party.

I just managed to wangle an introduction
to some very wealthy Japanese.

Mmm.

Althea, make sure Edie
orders in some sake.

Why, Diana, how sweet.

You promoted me to
your daddy's caterer.

Here comes your brother and his
sweet little friend, the horse doctor.

My, don't they make a
handsome couple, though.

Todd’s so good-looking
and Chris is so full of life

and just exuding
all that virginal purity.

What would you know about that?

Jessica, you remember the squire
of Sterling Stud, my father Randolph.

Oh, yes, of course. How
nice to see you, Randolph.

The pleasure is mine.

It's been far too long,
Jessica. Thank you.

My dear friend, Althea
Mayberry. How do you do?

My daughter, Diana.

Hello.

My goodness, you know,
the last time I was here,

it must have been 10 years ago,

and you were away at
university somewhere.

Cambridge, before
they threw me out.

Luckily, I had a bridegroom
waiting in the wings.

Yes, I remember reading about
your wedding in the newspapers.

You were married to an earl?

Lord. Lord Snowcroft.

After a few years,
I threw him out.

Sterling, I want
a word with you.

Just what in the
hell does that mean?

It means, Lamar, that unless you pay
what you owe me, I'm taking you to court.

I don't owe you a damn
cent and you know it.

You have two foals at your
place sired by King Paragon.

Fees and punitive damages
should come to about half a million,

give or take a dollar or two.

Dad, there's gotta be
a way to work this out.

Sure, he can write me a check.

For what?

I didn't ask my mares to
be bred by King Paragon.

No, somebody arranged a
conjugal meeting in the dead of night?

Well, it sure in hell wasn't me.

That, old friend,
remains to be seen.

I am not spoiling my day.

Jessica.

See you in court, Lamar.
Come along, ladies.

Oh, I tell you, it was quite a
shock coming out that morning

to find King Paragon
with Daddy's mares.

Lord knows how he got here.

But if the Sterling
Stud is right next door,

isn't it possible that King
Paragon just jumped the fence?

No, no. He's always
locked in his stall at night.

But I can't understand
why nobody saw it.

There were no witnesses, stable
hands, watchmen, somebody.

Well, if anybody saw,
they're not talking.

And our local police haven't
been much help, that's for sure.

Have you thought of
hiring a private investigator?

Who would I hire?

Oh, they are beautiful!

But, my goodness,

a half a million dollars is a high
price to pay for siring a couple of foals.

Not when you remember
that King Paragon

won both the English Derby
and the French Grand Prix.

Oh, but half a million's way more than
Pops could pay even if he wanted to.

We've had a
couple of lean years.

What if he loses the suit?

Then he loses the foals

and probably the farm.

You know, Christie,
I have an idea.

Maybe this calls for an
out-of-town investigator

who isn't easily intimidated and
who has an abiding passion for horses.

Breeding?

Betting.

ANNOUNCER ON RADIO: Coming
around the far turn, it's Elmo's Flyer,

then Bobbin Dobbin
and Horizontal Two-Step,

with Titillating Tillie
coming up on the outside...

Go for it, baby!

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Bless Dinty Fella
is moving up fast.

Yeah?

(IN FOREIGN ACCENT) Harry
McGraw? Never heard of him.

Harry, it's Jessica.

Oh, hi, Jessica, how you doing?

Hey, thanks for
placing that bet for me.

Harry, I'm sorry
your horse lost.

Yeah, well, that's why
they call him Big Palooka.

So, what's up?

Well, if you want to
recoup, I have a job for you.

ANNOUNCER ON RADIO: Titillating
Tillie overtakes Bobbin Dobbin...

Well, I'm not in the
market for a job right now.

See, the thing is, I've
got 500 bucks on the nose

on a sure thing
at Suffolk Downs.

And this is straight
from the horse's mouth.

In the stretch, Titillating
Tillie takes the lead...

Hang on, Jessica. I
just got another call.

Bobbin Dobbin, and now Bless
Dinty Fella starts to make a move.

Come on, baby. I love you, I
love you. Go for it! Go, Tillie!

Bless Dinty Fella
moves up along the rail

as Titillating Tillie slips
back behind Elmo's Flyer!

Hang in there! What are you
doing, running backwards?

At the wire, it's
Bless Dinty Fella,

with Elmo's Flyer to place
and Infirm O' Purpose to show.

So, Jessica, that job,

what is it and when do I start?

Well, gee, Randolph, you
know how much I'd like to oblige.

I said no postponements,
Harley. You hear?

But they've got to have
time to prepare their defense.

I want that case on
your calendar now.

And try to remember which
side your ballot is buttered on.

Why, sure, Randolph.

Oh, to hell with that, Martha
Jane. Give me a straight shot.

There's an afternoon
session in 10 minutes.

Add some mint.
Let's call it a julep.

It's going to take some
pretty fancy footwork

to tap dance around those two.

Randolph Sterling
may have political clout,

but Lamar Morgan is one of the
most beloved men in this county.

You know, Martha Jane, I've
been feeling real poorly lately.

Doc says I ought to take some
time off, maybe relax, go fly-fishing.

Or get impeached.

Oh, very nice!

You're going to take the
enemy camp by storm.

Thank you, if Harry
ever gets here.

Maybe I shouldn't have wired
him the money for the fare

while the track was still open.

Look, I realize that this family
squabble is very hard on you and Todd,

but things are
beginning to look up.

Look at all these people
who are shopping for horses.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Maybe that's him.

Miss Morgan?

Harlan McGraw Ill of
Boston, Massachusetts.

How do you do?

Better now that you're here,
Mr. McGraw. Please come in.

Hiya, Jessica.
You ready to roll?

Harry, you really look...

Well, words fail me.

What she means is she's surprised that
I'd have threads this sharp in my closet.

The fact is, I borrowed them
from a friend who owes me a favor.

That was very nice of him.

It certainly was. Did
he know about it?

Well, the fact is,
he's out of town.

Which is why I'd like to get these
duds back to Boston by Friday,

which is when he
comes back from Vegas.

Well, Friday,
that's not very long.

What, digging up a couple
of witnesses? Piece of cake.

Shall we, Miss Scarlett?

A pleasure, Mr. Rhett.

Have a nice time.

Thanks.

(PEOPLE LAUGHING)

Harley!

I was just talking to the boys about
a fundraiser for your re-election.

That's mighty nice of you and
I do appreciate that very much.

And if anything untoward should
happen in my suit against Lamar Morgan,

it could pay for your
retirement party, hmm?

Oh, hey, how about one of
those filled up with ginger ale, huh?

And try to make it a good year.

You appear to be a stranger.

I'm partial to strangers.

Hey, whatever turns you on.

I'm a friend of the host.

Oh, that's quite a coincidence.

I'm a friend of
one of the guests.

I'd go easy on the bubbles if I
were you. Ages the skin, darling.

And while we're on the subject,

you could use a touch-up.

Thank you, Lady Chatterley.

Lady who?

Diana is a lady
by marriage only.

If you'll excuse me.

Oh, thanks.

Hello, Harry. You know
Todd. This is his father.

Randolph Sterling, Mr. McGraw.

Ran... The Randolph Sterling?

The guy who owned
Randolph's Rebel?

The same.

Hey, whatever
happened to that nag?

He's still standing at stud.

The first time I saw him, he
was left standing at the gate.

It was the sixth at Rockingham,
July 9th, 10 years ago.

Six furlongs.

He had the rail, broke last,

but still managed to
finish fourth at 16-to-1,

in one-twelve and a fifth.

You've got quite a memory.

Oh, I never forget the
ones I lose a bundle on.

Yes, Harry is thinking of investing
in racing stock instead of tickets.

I'm surprised you haven't steered
him to your friend Lamar Morgan.

Hey, when it comes to horses,
you gotta go for the class,

and I hear you got the
classiest stud in Kentucky.

How about a gander
at him, huh, Randy?

I think that's a wonderful idea.

Where is King Paragon, Randolph?

(NEIGHING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Ladies and gentlemen,
the guest of honor,

King Paragon!

The name says it all.

You all know his breeding

and his race record.

You also know how rare it is to get
in on the ground floor of a syndicate

where the yearly return
on each share, foal or fee,

is $100,000 to begin with.

And with this noble beast,

the sky's the limit.

Wow, 100 grand for just...

Yes, Harry, "just."

Poor King Paragon. He's
so dreadfully unhappy.

Yeah? How do you know?

He told me so.

He tell you why?

Well, wouldn't you be miserable

if your body were used
in that dreadful fashion?

RANDOLPH: an
All-American Champion.

Now, I'm sure that some
of you are very anxious

to see King Paragon's
first foals, but...

LAMAR: My foals, Sterling!

They're my foals, and
they are in my field!

Lamar, may we discuss
this later, please?

No, we're gonna discuss
it right here and now.

You figured you would
get me into a real bind

by turning King Paragon
loose with my mares.

Oh, ho, that's very clever,

but you're not gonna
get away with it,

'cause I'll see you dead first.

Come on, Mr. Morgan. What?

Let's get some fresh air.

Fresh air. Don't forget.

Jessica, Miss Emmaline, ladies.

So much for family loyalty.

Todd’s not back
from the track yet.

Oh, I wish he hadn't
let Pops take off alone.

Well, he thought that your
father was coming home.

But I wouldn't
worry yet, Christie.

I mean, it's only
a half a mile away,

and there aren't any
reports of accidents.

And if anyone can track
him down, Harry will.

Now, can I get you
something? A cup of tea?

No, thanks.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Hello? HARRY: Good news, kid.

Your old man's safe and sound.

He's swapping stories in a gin mill
called Grogan's Backstretch Tavern.

Listen, why don't you and
Jessica go put on the old feedbag,

and I'll bring him home as
soon as I can pry him loose.

Okay. Hey, and Harry? Thanks.

Your dad's all right.

Better than he'll be
tomorrow morning.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Morgan Hill.

Oh, hi, Todd.

What, honey?

Okay, I'll meet you there.

Trouble?

Yeah, there was an
accident at the track.

Todd’s vanning a
filly back to his farm.

You know, Jessica, I hate
to leave you here alone.

If you give me a minute, I'll
go change and I'll go with you.

If I won't be in the way.

No.

No, I don't treat all
the Sterling stock,

just the ones that Todd trains.

But you know the security code?

Oh, yeah. In fact, Todd’s
father was convinced

I was the one that
let King Paragon loose

to get at the mares.

Oh.

Looks like Todd’s not here yet.

Might as well wait inside, huh?

Jessica.

He's dead.

Well, Tyrone, near
as I can make out now,

he's been dead for
at least a half an hour.

I can pinpoint it better
after the autopsy.

Blow to the head caused by this?

Could be.

Ma'am.

Ma'am, please
don't touch anything.

Oh, I'm not touching.
Just reading.

What is it, Jessica?

Well, it's a note to Randolph
Sterling from Althea Mayberry.

"Randolph, I knew Diana resented
the idea of any other woman

"becoming mistress
of Sterling Stud,

"but I never thought you'd allow
her to usurp my role as your hostess.

"Randolph, I cannot put a
price on my hurt and humiliation,

"but I'm sure that my
attorney can. Althea."

What is it? What happened?

Diana, don't
come in here, just...

My God, it's Daddy!

He did it.

Her father.

He said he would
do it and he did it.

Diana, we don't...
We don't know that.

Somebody threaten to
kill your daddy, ma'am?

You're damned right, Sheriff.

Lamar Morgan, this afternoon.

You were there, Mrs.
Fletcher, you heard him!

Oh, but I'm sure Lamar
didn't mean it literally, Diana.

Of course he didn't, Diana.

Pops couldn't kill
anybody and you know it.

I'll tell you what I know.

Your Pops telephoned while I
was on the way to the airport.

He said he had to talk to Daddy.

Oh, Todd, I was in such
a rush, I didn't think. I...

I'm never going to be
able to forgive myself.

I told him that Daddy was here

and he must have
come here and killed him!

Hey, hey, it's okay.

I'm gonna take her
back to the house.

I'll get your statements later.

I can't tell you how
sorry I am about all this.

Come on, let's go.

Well, suppose you ladies tell me what
brought you visiting this time of night.

Oh, my gosh, I forgot
all about the filly.

Excuse me.

Todd called her
about an injured horse,

and when we got
here, Mr. Sterling...

What about Lamar? He at home?

No, no, he's with a
friend, Mr. McGraw.

Sheriff, I'm quite sure that
you noticed a couple of things.

Things? What things?

Well, for instance,
that jacket over there.

There seems to be a
bloodstain on the left sleeve.

Well, I mean, it
doesn't seem likely

that he would have been wearing
it when he was struck down.

So, I suppose the question is,

when did the blood
get on it and how?

If it is blood.

Yes.

It certainly looks different
from the dark stains on his hand

and on the sleeve of his shirt.

Oh, I seen them. Oh, yeah.

You'd have to be blind not to.

Lab boys will
check all that out.

Mrs. Fletcher,

I've heard about you.

Now, poking around in police
business in the big city, that may be fine.

But down here,

well, we really don't appreciate
a lot of civilian interference.

Yeah. Well, I'll certainly
keep that in mind.

See, the fact of the matter is,

I got me a water
moccasin by the tail here.

I'm gonna be tiptoeing on
eggshells just to keep my job.

Christie!

PADLEY: Last stall on the right.

Oh, it's Mr. Padley.

Good evening, Mrs.
Fletcher. Good evening.

What happened to King Paragon?

Oh, rapped his ankle
going over a fence, he did.

Kicked his door down.

By the time I got here,
he was out in the pasture,

running around
with the yearlings.

Hmm.

I wonder what happened
to make him do that.

Who knows.

Maybe it was that bloody
awful row going on in the office.

I don't suppose you
recognized any of the voices.

Not likely.

I was off on the run to
get His Highness here.

By the time we got
back, it was all over.

Wasn't until the Sheriff's people
showed up that I learned what happened.

It's a rotten shame.

Fine gentleman,
Mr. Sterling was.

Oh, Christie. Let me
help you. Hi, Jessica.

Oh, thanks. I won't be a minute.

Mmm-hmm.

Derek, do you want me to
take an X-ray of that ankle?

Oh, he'll be all right.

Well, I've got a machine that'll
take that swelling down faster.

Look, miss, I've been with this horse since
he was a green thing, just off the farm.

He's had harder
knocks than this.

And I don't trust those new
bloody machines, anyway.

Ice will do just
fine, won't it, boy?

Translation, "I don't
trust a woman vet."

And how's your patient?

Bone chip. Prognosis, excellent.

Jessica, I'm not nearly as worried
about her as I am about Pops.

I just hope he wasn't
anywhere near this place tonight.

LAMAR: (SINGING)
My old Kentucky home

'Tis summer The feelings are gay

Corn top's ripe

And the meadow's in the bloom

And the birds sing
merrily (SIRENS WAILING)

All the day

Weep no more my lady

Oh, weep no more today

Hiya, Sheriff. What
can I do for you?

Oh, weep no more today

You can help us
put him in my cruiser.

Since when is it a crime to
drink good Kentucky bourbon?

Just who are you, mister?

I'm the designated driver.

Let's see some ID.

Is there some kind of a problem?

I don't know. Is there?

Private investigator.

What's your business
here, Mr. McGraw?

None of yours, Sheriff.

It is if you're trying to cook
up an alibi for Lamar Morgan.

An alibi? For what?

Murder, maybe.

Old Kentucky home

LAMAR: It's true, Jessica.

I did go over there.

But why, Lamar?

Because it was too easy for
Randolph to hang up the phone

before hearing me out.

You see, one of the folks
who came by to see the foals

offered me a half a
million dollars for one.

But they had to have
an answer by today.

So I proposed to Randolph
that he lift the injunction

and I'd place the
sale proceeds in trust

until the court could
decide our case.

So, he said no, and you
popped him one, right?

Derek Padley, King Paragon's groom, said
that there was a terrible row going on.

We had words. Loud ones, too.

And they were loud
enough for neither one of you

to hear King Paragon
kick his door out?

Good Lord, no.

Something like that would
have stopped us cold.

Pops.

I'm okay, honey.

I'm fine.

Just fine.

Jessica, I can smell
the wood burning.

Harry, if King Paragon could
kick himself free last night,

he could have done it before.

Now, maybe it was his idea
to mate with the Morgan mares.

Yeah, maybe he wasn't quite as
miserable as Miss Emmaline figured.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher,

we may talk a mite slower down here,
but our lab is just as good as they come.

Those stains on
Mr. Sterling's hand?

Nothing but
old-fashioned hair dye.

Hair dye?

But Randolph's hair was gray.

What about the
stains on the jacket?

Oh, those were
blood, sure enough.

But it weren't Mr. Sterling's.

Now, the way I figure it,

when the lab compares
them to Lamar Morgan's,

I'm gonna have the lid
nailed on this real tight.

I want to thank you
so much for your help.

You all have a
nice day, you hear?

I think his lid's
a little loose.

Let's face it, Harry,
things don't look good.

Yeah, maybe.

Suddenly, I can smell your
wood burning, Harry. What is it?

Something he
said about hair dye,

a subject on which I
happen to be an expert.

You know, bottled
blondes, carrot tops

and raven-haired brunettes.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR) Who is it?

HARRY: Room service.

Hi, Althea.

I thought maybe we might have a
little private wake for Randolph Sterling.

Come in, Mr. McGraw.

It'd be so nice to have a
strong shoulder to cry on.

I must look a fright.

No, you look terrific.

It's just infuriating to know

that if I hadn't let that conniving
little Diana mess things up,

I'd be the widow
Sterling by now.

The rich widow Sterling.

Mmm-hmm.

But Randy seemed
like a pretty classy guy.

He must have left you
something in the will.

Small comfort, knowing what a
chunk Miss Piggy will be getting.

Miss Piggy, huh?

I thought you called
her Lady Chatterley.

That was a literary allusion.

Harry, how would you
like to slip into something

just a little more comfortable?

Oh, like what?

Like my bedroom.

Well, I've always been
partial to brunettes.

You know, you've got gorgeous hair.
What color do you call that, anyway?

Whatever it said
on the bottle, darling.

Oh, is that why Diana made that
crack about you needing a touch-up?

So what?

Nothing.

I was just wondering if maybe you
were touching up your hair with dye

when Randolph came
to see you after the party.

You some kind of mind
reader or something, Harry?

No, just a wild guess.

But, actually, he did have hair
dye on his hand and his shirt cuff.

His cuff, huh?

I was aiming the bottle
at the skunk's head.

Oh, what happened?

After he left, you wrote him a note
and delivered it to him at his office.

What'd he do,

tell the innkeeper that you'd have
to pay your own rent from here on in?

You think I'd let any
man treat me like that?

No.

Not if there was a heavy
walking stick nearby.

Get out! Okay.

Get out! Okay, I'm going.

I'll take a rain check on
the tour of the boudoir.

Ciao, honey!

Wow, half a million on the hoof.

So tell me, Jessica, you ever hear
of a dame named Lady Chatterley?

Why, Harry, I never knew
that you had a literary streak.

I don't, but that's what
Althea called Diana,

and I figured that it wasn't
much of a compliment.

Ah. Well, Lady Chatterley was a character
who was created by D.H. Lawrence.

She had an affair with
her husband's gamekeeper.

Well, that's screwy. I
mean, Diana's not married,

and I haven't seen any
gamekeepers around here.

Maybe not so screwy, Harry.

Diana was married
to Lord Snowcroft,

who has a very large
estate in England.

Yeah? He into hunting game?

Into racing horses.

Hello. It's Edie, isn't it?

Yes, ma'am.

Is Todd around?

Oh, no, ma'am. He's
gone to the track.

You know, business as usual.

Oh, my goodness, you're not planning
to wash all these windows, I hope.

That's a big job.

It's what they
pay me for, but...

Mrs. Fletcher,

is it true what I heard that
they arrested Mr. Lamar?

Yes.

Well, now, that is just
out and out nonsense.

I mean, he is a fine gentleman,
just like Mr. Randolph, and...

Well, it's just truly a shame that
those two have started into feuding

after being friends
all those years.

Well, it must be very
hard on Miss Christie.

Oh, yes.

And on Diana, too, I suppose.

Well, maybe yes, maybe no.

I mean, 10 years in England
did not improve her manners

or her disposition.

Ma'am, I am not one to gossip,

and I certainly didn't
mean to eavesdrop, but...

Well, since I hear that you
are trying to help Mr. Lamar,

I guess you should know this.

I heard hollering in
the den the other night

when I was helping to
clean up after the party.

And Diana was
angry with her father?

Oh, no, it was just
the other way around.

He was angry with her.

Well, he said that...

Well, she just never did
have any taste in men.

And he'd be damned if he'd let
her throw any more money away.

And she said, well, it would
be her money someday,

so why couldn't she just spend
it any way that she wanted?

Well, he told her
not to be so sure.

She said he'd be a fool to
leave it to her turncoat brother,

who was defending Lamar
Morgan against his own father.

Miss Diana screamed at him!

Daddy, can't you see
what Christie's done to him?

Todd hates your guts!

Edie, think back.
This is very important.

When Mr. Sterling
came home for dinner,

did you notice any
stains on his jacket

or on his shirt cuff?

Oh, no, ma'am.

I mean, if there had been
just so much as a spot,

he'd have gone upstairs and
changed. I mean, Mr. Randolph...

Well, he was very particular
about his appearance,

even down at the stables.

It was just the
kind of man he was.

Ma'am.

It's truly a shame he didn't
use the same kind of care

dealing with his family.

McGraw, you're supposed
to be an investigator.

What about this lawsuit?

Lawsuit, my Aunt Tillie.

What about you in the
slammer for murder?

Tyrone is stomping around out
there making threats about court orders

to force you to cooperate.

What's this all about, Pops?

Hell, he just wants me to give some
blood, and you know how I hate needles.

I think maybe you better get
your dad's lawyer over here.

Right, Lamar?

Maybe you better, honey.

Pops.

The thing is, it is my
blood on Randolph's jacket.

It got there when we
mixed it up in his office

and he hit me on the nose.

Sweetheart, get the lawyer.

This Sheriff, you sure
he read you your rights?

He's not that dumb.

Look, McGraw, I
didn't kill Randolph.

Like I said, we mixed it up a bit,
but you couldn't really call it a fight.

He bloodied my nose
and I decked him.

So why is the Sheriff
still holding you?

I mean, he wasn't
killed with a fist.

No, he was killed with
that fancy walking stick.

And now it's got two sets of
prints on it. Randolph's and mine.

They got your prints
on the murder weapon?

We had words.

(RANDOLPH LAUGHING)

What kind of a fool do
you think I am, Lamar?

Anybody gets those
foals, it's gonna be me.

And as long as that
injunction stands,

you can't sell
them or race them.

Damn you, Randolph.

I thought we could
settle this like gentlemen.

I forgot you were a high-handed,
four-flushing, son of a carpetbagger.

(GRUNTS)

He bloodied my nose, so I took
that damn stick away from him

and I decked him.

And then what?

Well, I walked out.

And what about Sterling?

The last I saw, he was on
the floor, cussing me out.

I got through to the law office.

Mark Mason's on his way.

I'd be a lot happier if
his first name was Perry.

Anybody else?

No, thanks.

You know, one thing
doesn't make sense to me.

I had one hell of a shouting match with
Dad right outside King Paragon's stall.

Horse didn't turn a hair.

Well, if we believe your father,

and I do,

then someone else
came into that stable

soon after your
father left. Very soon.

Yeah, but who else besides Lamar

was mad enough at
your old man to ice him?

Well, we do know one thing.
Whoever went to the office

either had to have been
admitted to the premises

or had known the entry code.

Wasn't there a
security guard on duty?

Old Lester.

He always took catnaps
in between rounds.

We all knew it, but Dad
never had the heart to fire him.

It must have been more than a
catnap to have missed that quarrel

and King Paragon
kicking the door out.

Well, the fact
is, Mrs. Fletcher,

Lester was smashed.

Smelled just like a brewery.

Speaking of which,

I better go check
on the new guy.

I'll go with you. I need
to look in on the filly.

We'll be back soon, Jessica.

Thanks.

You know, I really
feel sorry for Todd.

Losing his own father and now
being concerned about Christie's.

Yeah, not to mention maybe
being responsible for the whole thing.

Todd, responsible? How?

Come on, Jessica, it
reads like a B-movie.

The guy goes
gaga over this girl,

he knows her old man's
got money problems,

so he decides to play matchmaker
for a couple of his mares.

I'll lay you 9-to-5

the beef he had with his
old man was over the lawsuit.

No. If Todd had
been responsible,

he would have said so.

Jessica, people tend to clam
up when there's money involved,

and this kid's inheritance
ain't exactly carfare.

You know, Harry,

I have an idea.

Do you have any contacts

with the British horse
racing community?

Well, I know the
guy who makes book

for the Prince of Wales.
Is that what you mean?

Well, could you call him,
get some information?

Sure. Hey, what Irving don't
know about horseflesh doesn't exist.

But it's gonna cost you.

I mean, Irving's
favorite charity is Irving.

Harry, it's only 3:00 in
the morning in England.

Oh, this guy never leaves
his phones or his computer.

Well, when does he sleep?

Sleep? What's that?

Yes, let me have information
for London, England.

What do you wanna know?

I beg your pardon, Miss Morgan?

You want to have this
preliminary hearing held where?

In a stable at Sterling
Stud, Your Honor.

My dear child, may I remind you

that your dad is being held on a
charge of murder in the first degree?

This request, at least to
me, sounds capricious.

Excuse me, Your Honor,

but this entire case revolves
around a horse named King Paragon

and his mysterious disappearance
from the stable in question.

And the outcome of this hearing
could affect my father's trial.

Whoa, there, Miss Christie.

This case must be
heard on its own merits,

and quite apart from
the other charge.

My client agrees
to that, Your Honor.

Sir, Sterling Stud agrees
with the defense request

to hold this
hearing at the farm.

You realize, son, you're going along
with what appears to be a delaying tactic.

Only in the interest
of justice, Your Honor.

Justice, my foot!

There'll be no stalling and no
hearing without my participation

as one half of the surviving
family of Randolph Sterling.

No hearing, Sis?

Well, that suits me just fine. Let's
call the whole thing off right now.

No. I want it settled now.

Agreed.

We'll hear opening statements
at 2:00 p.m. in the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in as much as
there's a lot of hot air in here,

I suggest we first
enjoy some fresh air

out at Sterling Stud.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Well, don't thank
me yet, young lady.

There better be a damn good reason
for this inconvenience to all of us.

Oh, there is, sir.

The fact is, Mrs. Fletcher has been
able to come up with a surprise witness.

Surprise witness?

What surprise witness?

A horse? Your surprise
witness is a horse?

Oh, not just any horse, Diana,

but a horse we all
know as King Paragon,

and he alone may
be the only witness

who can sort out this
terrible maze of contradictions.

Oh, this is outrageous!

The stupid animal can't
even think, much less talk!

Really, Diana, you'll
hurt his feelings.

He's quite sensitive, you know.

And you all know that Miss Emmaline
has a doctorate in animal behavior.

My God, how
irrelevant can you get?

Oh, knock it off, Justin.

My father's friends will not take
kindly to this subversion of justice.

MASON: That remark
was uncalled for.

Your Honor, my client is only...

He's trying to
influence the judge.

And I will remind you, sir,

that my father has a lot
more friends than hers did,

and they are behind him 100%.

Now, hear this, everybody.

I'm going to listen to this
testimony with an open mind.

You may begin, Miss Emmaline.

King Paragon,

do you remember what happened
the night Mr. Sterling was killed?

(NEIGHING)

He said yes.

It's a trick.

Do you remember kicking
your way out of your stall?

I told you that, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, since Mr. Padley
verifies the horse's story,

you may continue, Miss Emmaline.

Had you ever done that before?

Had you run off like that
to have a moonlight visit

with Lamar Morgan's mares?

Your Honor, this is just their
sleazy way of avoiding stud fees.

Getting the horse to
say it was his idea?

HARLEY: Miss Emmaline?

EMMALINE: He said
the question was insulting.

He's quite busy fulfilling
his contractual duties.

He doesn't have to go
chasing after it at night.

Excuse me, Your Honor,

but whether the horse went
to the mares of his own accord

or whether he was
led is immaterial.

Morgan Hill Farms does not
owe Sterling estates any stud fees.

Mrs. Fletcher wants to know if
your name is really King Paragon,

or if in fact your name is
actually Knight's Sword.

Excuse me,

but this is madness.

Knight's Sword? He's dead.

He was struck down by lightning.

It's on record at the
English Jockey Club.

Yeah, sure, just before you were
supposed to ship his full brother,

King Paragon, to Sterling Stud.

And what do you know,

it turns out that both horses
were owned by Lord Snowcroft,

who sold King Paragon
to Randolph Sterling.

Yes, and both very
reputable horsemen.

Sure. But what if King Paragon
had died instead of Knight's Sword?

That's impossible.

Hey, I'm just supposing
here, sweet face.

I mean, you can't
ship a dead horse.

Especially with six
million bucks riding on it.

So, somebody gets a bright idea.

A quick dye job on
Knight's Sword's white sock,

switch the papers,
and Io and behold,

King Paragon is alive and
well and living in Kentucky.

Isn't that why you didn't
want to X-ray the horse

when he was hurt, Mr. Padley?

An X-ray would have revealed the old injury
that kept Knight's Sword from racing.

Utter rot.

No, I don't think so.

But I also don't think
that Randolph Sterling

had any idea about the deception
until the night that he was murdered.

I suspect that he caught
you in the act of touching up

Knight's Sword's white marking.

He'd already quarreled with Diana
over her romantic involvement with you,

but this was far worse.

This was a matter
of family honor.

He would have to expose
the whole fraudulent scheme,

and you, Mr. Padley, had
no intention of going to jail.

So, you jerked the walking
stick away from Randolph

and struck him with it.

The horse panicked
at the smell of blood,

and kicked his way
through the door.

You moved Randolph
back to the office

before you chased
after the horse.

No!

Those fingerprints on
that bloody walking stick

are Mr. Morgan's and not mine.

Of course. You wore gloves to
protect your hands from dye stains.

And I found these in
the horse's tack box.

Everybody who works
around horses uses those.

Yeah?

Does everybody work
where the straw covers up

dye and bloodstains?

Damn you, Derek!

You told me Lamar killed him!

Easy, Di. Easy. Easy. It's okay.

You know, I'm real
proud of you two.

You pulled off that scam
like a couple of pros.

Scam? What scam?

Well, you know, where
you used the wires

to make the horse's head move

and make him nod up
and down. Oh, but, Harry,

there were no wires.

(HORSE NEIGHING)

No wires?

No, wait a minute, wait a
minute. That doesn't make sense.

I mean, if you and the horse
were talking all this time,

how come he never
told you his real name?

Oh, I asked him about
that, Mr. McGraw.

He apologized and he
explained that he likes it here.

He didn't want to be shipped
back to England. It's much too cold.

(NEIGHING)

McGraw, you did
one hell of a job.

Well, after Althea clued me
in, it all started falling into place.

I mean, Lady Chatterley
had her gamekeeper,

and Lady Diana
had her horse keeper.

It's simple if you know
your D.H. Lawrence.

Ah.

But tell me, why did Padley bring
the horse over to service our mares?

Oh, that's easy. Because...

Well, why don't you
tell them, Jessica?

Well, he wanted to make trouble.

Not between you and Randolph,

but between Todd and his father.

You see, Diana and Derek
wanted to run the syndicate.

Now, she knew that Todd
would take your side in a dispute.

And with Todd
out of the picture,

she felt that she could
talk her father into it.

Harry, we should start
leaving for the airport.

Jessica,

thank you. Harry,
come back and see us.

Thank you.

We'll see you in three
years, if not before.

Oh, what's in three years?

Oh, the chestnut
foal will win the Derby.

Yeah? Who says?

Knight's Sword
told Miss Emmaline.

HARRY: Yeah?

I'm buying the chestnut
foal. Keeping it in the family.

Wait, wait a minute,
didn't Miss Emmaline say

that horses can't
predict the future?

Oh, no. Fathers can always tell
when they have a special child.

You're kidding me.

He's putting me on, right?

Harry, you know what they say,

there are more things between
heaven and earth than men dream of.

And just in case
I don't get back.

You, Jessica, you're
betting 20 bucks?

On the nose, Harry.

After all,

I mean, this is one tip that came
straight from the horse's mouth.