Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 7, Episode 3 - See You in Court, Baby - full transcript

Dennis Stanton tries to clear a man of charges he murdered an unscrupulous divorce attorney.

Don't threaten me.
I've heard it before.

Well, you haven't
heard it from me before.

Miss McPhee, I presume.

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

How did you know
it was me? Braille.

It must have been
difficult for you

watching him enter into a
series of unfortunate marriages

while you were in love
with him. That is not true!

It's been years since anyone
actually tried to pick me up.

I find that
difficult to believe.

You're a visitor in this house,
Mr. Briscoe. Please don't do that.



What? This?

Bring that car back here!

Ed!

(THUDDING)

You lousy creep!

Ed!

Ed, bring that car back here!

Come back here!

Ed!

For better, for worse,
until death do you part.

I don't know about you, but I remember
when those words meant something.

These days it seems
that young people

just don't have the same commitment
to marriage as our generation did.

Maybe it's the pressure
of modern times



or maybe it's just the ease
with which vows can be broken.

Especially with a little help from a
divorce lawyer like Truman Calloway.

Oh, now, surely you've heard
of the infamous Mr. Calloway.

A man who has
made his reputation,

such as it is, by feeding
on the misery of others.

No?

Well, let me tell you about him.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

KAREN: Mr. Calloway's office.

Yes, good morning,
Mrs. Kriegler.

No, I am sorry. He's
with a client right now.

May I have him get back to you?

Just one moment. I
will see if he can talk.

(BUZZING) CALLOWAY: Yes?

Mrs. Kriegler's on line one,
sir and she sounds very upset.

Amy Sue? How're you
doing this morning, darling?

Whoa.

He did what?

He pushed the sports car
over a cliff into a ravine?

(CHUCKLES)

Well, I think you're right, Ed's
not taking this divorce well at all.

Well, sure, it's a
criminal matter.

Well, no darling, I
wouldn't go to the police.

Well, because that'll
just make things worse.

No, you get in touch with
the insurance company.

You explain to them what
happened. They'll take care of it.

Well, now, honey, I'm in the middle
of an important meeting right now,

but you just do like I
told you and it'll be fine.

Okay?

Ah, well, it's nice
talking to you.

(CHUCKLES)

Bye-bye.

Crazy little gal. I get her $10
million, you think she's happy?

If you ask me, she's
still in love with that jerk.

Now, where were we?

Oh, yes, your wife.

The cheese heiress.

Melissa.

Melissa Greenleaf of
the Wisconsin Greenleafs.

She's the old man's granddaughter
and she's worth between

20 and 25 million
in her own right.

That was the first
thing I checked out

before we got married
three years ago.

Well, you know, Mr. Trixler,
this is a little unusual for me.

Because normally I represent the
aggrieved wives in a divorce action,

not their husbands.

I'm not greedy, Mr. Calloway.

A lump sum of $3 or $4
million would suit me just fine.

Out of that, I'd pay you
maybe ten, fifteen percent.

Uh, no, out of that
you'd give me a third.

That's if I take the case,

which I'm not sure I want to do.

You see, it's a lot easier for a jury to
work up sympathy for a neglected wife

than it is a
fortune-hunting beach bum.

You'll excuse my bluntness.

No need to apologize.

We're talking business here.

I'm sure my
feelings will survive.

AMY SUE: I just knew he was
gonna do something awful, Mr. Stanton.

I mean, you have to know Ed.

He has this terrible temper.

When it gets the best of
him, he's just not rational.

So... So, as I was saying, I
went in and phoned the police,

but they didn't find Ed,

not until it was too late.

(CRYING)

They called me first
thing this morning,

and they said they found my
car in the bottom of a ravine.

They said it appeared to have
been pushed over the edge.

Pushed, Mr. Stanton!

The man actually pushed his
car into a gully and destroyed it!

Oh, it was a criminal
act, Mr. Stanton.

The man should be in jail.

But my attorney tells me
that's probably not possible.

Your attorney?

Yes. Truman Calloway.

No doubt you've heard of him.

Oh, who among us
hasn't, Mrs. Kriegler?

But this vehicle you
keep referring to...

A Testarossa.

Yes, first it's his car, then
it's your car, then it's his car...

Well, it was his car originally.

I mean, it was his
lifelong dream to own one.

And then in the divorce
settlement, it became my car.

We insisted on that.

Mr. Calloway insisted on it,

at my insistence.

Oh, I see.

It's really not
the way it seems.

I mean, I didn't do it
out of spite or anything.

I was just hoping that if he
thought he'd lose his precious car,

he might change his
mind about the divorce.

So it was his idea to split up.

Yes. I mean, no.

Actually, I can't
remember how it started.

All I know is, once it got rolling
downhill, there was no stopping it.

My lawyers, his
lawyers, it got so messy.

Well, Mrs. Kriegler, we do
have a small problem here.

Now, this policy was
issued in both your names.

So technically, your husband...

I mean your ex-husband was
destroying his own property

for which we are not liable.

Well, but I just told you I...

On the other hand,

if the car were specifically a
part of the divorce settlement...

Look, why don't I look into this
and see what I come up with.

Would you, Mr. Stanton?
I'd be ever so grateful.

Of course. Anything I can
do to help, Mrs. Kriegler.

And I hope things work
out for you. Thank you.

So, do you think you'll be able
to solve her problem for her?

Unlikely, Rhoda.

I'm singularly untrained
as a marriage counselor.

Truman!

Darling. Joyce.

What a surprise.

I thought you were in
LA auditioning for a part.

The producer wanted a blonde.

I said, "Darling, I can
be blonde, redhead,

"or bald if that's
what you want."

I think his girlfriend
got the part.

Now, darling, you
and I have got to talk.

Well, not now, I'm late
for an important lunch.

Then we'll talk on the way.

Now, really, Truman,
you can't be serious

about that dreadful
pre-nuptial agreement.

Darling, having had to share my
income with three previous wives

has not made me a happy man and I don't
intend to make the same mistake again.

You know I'd
never do that to you.

Good. Then sign the
paper. We'll fly to Reno.

You don't love me.

I love you well enough to
pay you $10,000 a month

if it doesn't work out.

Plus a million-dollar
policy on my life,

which I've given
all my ex-wives.

Well, all but Charmaine.

She only got a
quarter of a million

but she was my first
and I was poor then.

You were never poor, Truman.

Except maybe in spirit.

All you ever think
about is your money.

I honestly don't think
you've ever loved anyone.

Perhaps I did once.

Didn't know it.

Truman Calloway. Now
there's a piece of work.

Believe me, once the lawyers
get hold of you, you're dead meat.

Odd. Your ex-wife
feels the same way.

Yeah, real odd.
Since she hired him.

Now, about the
car, Mr. Kriegler...

The only thing I ever
really splurged on.

I work 14, 15 hours
a day, Stanton.

I don't have time for country
clubs or yachts or European tours.

What I make, I can't even spend.

So why'd she have
to take the car, huh?

Well, maybe it was a symbol.

Your work came first,
she came second, if at all.

Maybe she was
trying to punish you.

Not that I'm an
expert. No, you're not.

Charlie, the case
is for Oppenheimer.

You got to get them to
the post office by 3:00.

Now move it!

CHARLIE: Fellows, will
you come on? Let's do it.

Okay, the car.

To keep things simple, suppose I
pay Amy Sue the price of the car.

Is that okay? Fine by me.

Good. I'll write her a check.

Now you and your
company are out of it.

You'll have to sign a release.

Whatever. Excuse me.

Charlie, what're you doing?

Waiting for New Year's?
Get your butt in first gear!

Okay, Mrs. Fenton gets the BMW,

the condo in Hawaii, the
beach house in Malibu,

and those both fully paid up.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

My client is not about to
pay off those mortgages.

He'll keep up the payments.

Yeah, but what if he doesn't?

Let's keep this
clean, Mr. Briscoe.

Now, paid up. Both properties.

Ah, come on, Calloway.

I can't go back to this guy
with this. You're killing him.

Sure, I understand
how devastated he is.

TV actress on his arm
at a New York disco,

weekend in Vegas with
Miss Third Runner-Up.

You're screwing with
the wrong guy, Calloway.

Was that a threat, Mr. Briscoe?

Listen, pal, ten years
busted my butt in night school.

This case is my
ticket to the big time.

You make me look bad, I'm
coming after you personally.

Well, I understand
you're an ex-police officer,

but don't threaten me.

I've heard it before.

Oh, yeah?

Well, you haven't
heard it from me before.

Something more,
Mr. Calloway? Some coffee?

No, thank you,
Ernie. Just the check.

Coming right up.

Hello, Truman. Charmaine.

My God, it is you.

I need to talk to you.

If this is a bad time, I...

No, no, of course not.

Sit down, please.

Ernie.

Well,

the last I heard, you
were living in Milwaukee.

Still am. Sir?

How about some lunch?
Oh, no, I'm not hungry.

Just coffee, please.

Two. Yes, sir.

You look wonderful.

So do you.

Put on a little
weight. It looks good.

Yes, well it feels terrible.

I've almost called
you several times,

but this is too important.

I need to talk to
you about Jason.

Hello? Anybody here?

(CLASSICAL MUSIC
PLAYING ON RADIO)

WOMAN ON RADIO: That was the
2nd Piano Concerto by Rachmaninoff

played by the London
Symphony Orchestra.

Walter Goehr conducting.

And now, the news.

Prominent San Francisco
attorney Truman Calloway

was found dead in
his office this morning,

the victim of what police
are calling a brutal murder.

Calloway had been working
alone in his office last night

where the killing
apparently took place.

Good morning, Rhoda.

Good morning.
You've got company.

What? At this hour?

Amy Sue. Amy Sue?

I thought that one
was all wrapped up.

So did I.

You sure got a way
about you, boss.

I'll hold your calls.

So thoughtful.
You're so welcome.

It's my husband Ed.

I think he killed
Truman Calloway.

Well, tell me what
happened. I don't know.

I mean, I'm not sure.

(STUTTERING) I just
can't believe any of this.

Ed's got a temper, sure,

but I just don't
believe he could do it.

Well, what makes
you think he did?

Because he said he would.

I was home alone last
night, in bed reading,

when I heard him
pull up outside.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

ED: Amy Sue!

AMYSUE: The next thing I
knew, he was pounding at my door,

screaming my name, so
all the neighbors could hear.

He was drunk. Amy Sue!

So I yelled down at him.

Ed! Go away!

You're gonna wake
the neighborhood!

We gotta talk!

There is nothing to talk about.

Amy Sue, I love you.

You're drunk.

This is just plain
stupid, you know that?

You up there and me down here.

How'd this happen, baby?

Ed, don't start. You
know how it happened.

Oh, it's that lawyer!

It's his fault!

If you hadn't have
hired that lousy lawyer,

you and me, we'd
still be together.

He made you do it, didn't he?

No! The hell he didn't!

Shh! Keep your voice down!

I'm gonna find that miserable
slimeball and I'm gonna kill him!

Ed! Ed, come back here!

Ed, don't you do
anything stupid!

Ed! Ed!

He did something
stupid, all right.

As soon as I heard it
on the news this morning,

I called his office, but the
police had already been there.

They arrested him, Mr. Stanton!

Yes, well, it's a
terrible situation.

I'm afraid to go
down there myself.

I mean, I don't
know what to say.

Then I thought you being an
experienced person in this type of matter,

you might be
able to talk to him.

Well, yes, I suppose, but
you see, actually, Mrs. Kriegler,

it is none of my business.

But you did say,
"Anything I can do."

Yes, I did say that, in
an off-hand sort of way.

Here's the statement
from a witness

who saw the suspect entering
the building last night about 9:30,

and here's a forensic report

matching the blood on the
doorjamb with the victim's,

and a fingerprint found at the
scene matching the suspect's.

And we're checking out a report that
the suspect publicly threatened the victim

in a drunken argument with his wife
about an hour before the murder occurred.

Now, if there's anything else
you need, just let me know.

Thank you, Lieutenant,
you've been so helpful.

Are you sure you
don't need these back?

Oh no, those are just copies.

If you need any
more, just let me know.

Well, on behalf of
Cayuga Life and Casualty,

thanks again, Lieutenant.

You've been just terrific.

My pleasure, Miss McPhee.

(INTERCOM BUZZING)

Yes.

Lieutenant, this is
Brady down at the desk.

I have a guy here who wants
to see you by the name of...

Excuse me, what was
that name again, sir?

Stanton. Dennis Stanton.

Uh, Stanton, sir,
Dennis Stanton.

He says it's about
the Calloway homicide.

I don't have time to waste
with insurance people.

Tell him to write me a letter.

He suggests you
contact him by mail, sir.

(CHUCKLES) Does he?

Stanton!

Marcia McPhee, I
can hardly believe it.

I thought you were surgically
attached to your New York office.

And I thought you
would be in jail by now.

Come to give yourself up
for something, have you?

Well, this may come as
depressing news, dear heart,

but as fate would have it, you and I find
ourselves in the same line of business.

You?

Some insurance company
hired you as a claims investigator?

It's a condition
of my probation.

There are times when I think
prison would be preferable.

No argument from me.

So, you're here on a case?

Well, in a roundabout way.

The Calloway killing.

I'm trying to get in
to see the suspect.

Kriegler? He didn't do it.

Oh, that's nice to know.
Who did? His first wife.

She's the beneficiary on
a quarter-of-a-mil policy.

If you can prove that, it
would certainly simplify my life.

Oh, I can prove it, all right.

I've already got
the big picture.

I just need to
fill in the blanks.

Marcia,

it's been far too long since you and I
reminisced about the good old days.

Let me buy you lunch.

I know this marvelous
little Italian place...

Forget it, Stanton, there is no
way you are horning in on my action,

even if I needed the
help, which I don't.

I was only trying
to be sociable.

Yes, that I do remember
from the good old days.

Do me a favor?

Stay out of my way,
I'll stay out of yours.

Okay, okay, so I
drove over to see him.

Not very smart, in
the condition I was in.

No, it wasn't.

I just wanted to
punch his lights out.

But when I got there,
he was already dead.

I swear to God.

I walked into his office, he
was lying on the floor face down.

I kneeled down, turned him over.

I guess that's when I
got blood on my hand.

When I saw what
happened, I felt sick.

I backed off.

I must have touched the
doorway on my way out.

Oh, I was drunk all right, but not
so drunk I was about to call the cops.

I see.

And what time was this?

10:30, 11:00 maybe.

It's the truth!

Do you have a good attorney?

My company lawyer,
he's finding me somebody.

Anyway, you said something about
a release form you wanted me to sign.

Oh, no, no, no. It can wait.

I thought that's why
you wanted to see me.

No, actually, I'm here at the
request of your wife, Mr. Kriegler.

She's very worried about you.

Ex-wife.

Yes, well, there's something
else you should know.

She strongly believes
in your innocence.

That's quite a
lady you had there.

It's a pity the way
things worked out.

I'll be in touch.

Time's up. Let's go.

Yes, yes, I'm afraid your husband
is there, Mrs. Hammersmith.

I spoke to the private
detective last night.

I caught him just as
he was going to supper.

Look, Mrs. Hammersmith, I
really can't discuss this right now.

I will add his
report to the files

and have them shipped
to your new attorney

as soon as you've retained one.

Yes, thank you.

We are all going to
miss Mr. Calloway.

Yes, he was a wonderful man.

Goodbye.

Good afternoon, may I help you?

Well, I hope so. Miss Davies?

Karen Davies. That's Ms.

Ms.?

I was Mr. Calloway's secretary.

Yes, I know. I'm very sorry.

Not half as much as I am, Mr...

Stanton. Dennis Stanton.

(CLEARS THROAT) I'm
with the insurance company.

Forgive me, but that
gentleman who just left,

I know I've met him somewhere.

Oh, I hope not in the courtroom.

Joseph Briscoe.

Ah, yes, the attorney.

Here to extend his
condolences, I suppose.

Are you working with
Miss McPhee, Mr. Stanton?

Well, as a matter of fact,

we just chatted about the case

about an hour ago, down
at police headquarters.

She mentioned something
about Mr. Calloway's first wife.

Charmaine.

Yes, Charmaine flew
into town early yesterday

all the way from Milwaukee.

She hadn't seen
Truman in over 20 years,

and all of a sudden she
pops up and he winds up dead,

and she is in line to inherit
a quarter of a million dollars.

A very funny coincidence,
wouldn't you say?

Staggering. Though I
suspect, over the years

Mr. Calloway probably incurred
the wrath of a great many people.

Incensed ex-husbands,
for example.

Is there something
I can do for you?

Well, for starters,

I don't suppose Mr. Calloway had an
appointment with someone last night?

Not that I know of.

I left around 6:30 and he
was still in his office working.

Alone. I see.

Then how about a list of all the
people he was in contact with,

say, 48 hours before his death.

I gave this list to Miss McPhee.

So you did, but unfortunately

her purse was stolen just as she
was leaving police headquarters.

The audacity of thieves
these days, it's unbelievable.

Anyway, she asked me to
stop by and collect a duplicate.

Thank you, Ms. Davies.

There are seventeen
names on this list!

Rhoda darling, I don't
want their life stories.

Just find out all you can about their
activities for the past couple of days.

Listen, just in case I'm asked,

does this come under the heading
of official company business?

Of course.

But it isn't even our case.

No, but Ed Kriegler is,

and as far as
Mr. Butler's concerned,

the man flatly refuses to sign the
release form while he remains in jail.

You see my predicament?

For the good of the
company, I have to pursue this.

Dennis, you got to stop
being a sucker for a pretty face.

I'll try and remember that next
time you hit me up for a raise.

He was having lunch with a
man named Briscoe. Also a lawyer.

A real bad-news guy.

Yes, I've run across
him a couple of times.

And you say Briscoe
threatened Mr. Calloway?

Yeah, and he meant it, too.

Briscoe's an ex-cop, got
his degree in night school.

He eats here a
lot. Thanks, Ernie.

If President Jackson's
got a twin brother,

I can give you chapter two.

Chapter two?

See that woman over there,
the one who's just leaving?

Calloway's ex-wife.

When Briscoe left, she
walked up to the table

and he sure was
surprised to see her.

Ah, really. And
they talked about?

Wouldn't know. Got busy.

(CHATTERING)

Exquisite pair of gloves.

I hate to interrupt
your lunch, ladies,

but may I ask a
very special favor?

Hello. Excuse me.

You left your
gloves on the table.

Those aren't my gloves.

Oh, but I was sure that was
the table you were seated at.

I couldn't help but notice an
attractive woman eating alone.

What a silly mistake.
I do apologize.

No harm done.

You must be new to our city.

The food in that place
is terribly overpriced

and the quality
marginal at best.

Oh, really? I ate
there yesterday.

I enjoyed it so much
I came back today.

Still, I could name you at
least a dozen restaurants

where the culinary arts have
been raised to staggering heights.

This is San
Francisco, after all.

Excuse me, shouldn't you
be returning those gloves?

Oh, there's no
rush, Mrs. Calloway.

Oh, you know who I am.

Now I am disappointed.

It's been years since anyone
actually tried to pick me up.

I find that
difficult to believe.

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

Actually there is a reason
behind the subterfuge.

Can we chat about
it over a cappuccino?

Miss McPhee, I presume.

How did you know
it was me? Braille.

Funny.

Did you find what
you were looking for?

If not, I'd be
happy to help out.

From you, Marcia,
I have no secrets.

No?

Then what were you doing
with Charmaine Calloway

outside Madeo's
Restaurant this afternoon?

Who were you
trailing, her or me?

Just answer the question.

Well, to put it crudely, I was
pumping her for information.

Would you like a
brandy? No, thank you.

White wine, perhaps? No.

Oh, at least sit down
and stop fidgeting.

You do want to know what
we discussed, don't you?

Ah! Now, were you aware

that she had a lunchtime
conversation at Madeo's yesterday

with her late husband?

So she did go to
see him? I knew it!

Yes, they had quite a chat
about a very personal matter.

I need to talk to
you about Jason.

Well, I've told you, Charmaine, I have
no wish to talk about that young man.

Are you still so
jealous after 25 years?

I'm not gonna be responsible, financially
or otherwise, for another man's son.

Years ago you made
a choice, Charmaine.

Have the guts to accept it.

I didn't leave you
for another man.

I left you because your career
was the only thing in your life.

There wasn't any room
for me, let alone children.

That's why I went
back to Milwaukee.

I didn't even meet Bill
for six months after that.

He didn't even have
the decency to marry you.

Disappeared one day leaving you
with what, a four-month-old son?

He didn't just disappear.

His newspaper sent him
to Vietnam to cover the war.

One day he accompanied a
patrol into the hills and none of them

were seen or heard from again.

I'm sorry. I didn't know that.

And as for marrying me, I wasn't
about to make that mistake again.

I gave Jason Bill Thompson's
name out of love and respect.

And I'm very proud of
the way he's turned out.

It's a shame you haven't
met him. Nor do I intend to.

And I certainly don't intend to pay
for his way through medical school.

My God, Charmaine, whatever put a
ridiculous idea like that in your head?

Have you forgotten
who worked three years

at two different jobs so that
you could get through law school?

Oh, I see. It's payback time?

Call it that if you will.

I haven't asked very much of
you, but I'm asking you now.

Jason is a brilliant young
man who deserves a future.

No. You owe me that much!

I don't owe you a thing.

Not a thing!

You left me when needed
you. You went back home.

You had another man's son,
the son you should have given me.

You made your choice, Charmaine.

You live with it.

And that was the last time

Charmaine Calloway
saw her ex-husband alive.

Except for those moments
just before she killed him.

I seriously doubt that.

Oh please, Stanton,
don't you see?

You have given me
the missing piece.

The motive.

Why now, after all these
years, would she kill him?

For the kid.

But she was in her hotel room
last evening from 9:00 onward.

And she's got
witnesses to prove this?

Don't let your libido get in the
way of your good judgment, amigo.

Nice women have turned into ax
murderers when their children are involved.

This woman is no
exception. All right. All right.

For the moment let's assume
that I'm wrong and you're right.

Now, that leaves you with a
major problem. Ed Kriegler.

Lieutenant Catalano has slammed the
cell door shut and tossed away the key.

This won't be the first time
I've proven a cop wrong.

Marcia,

since we share the same objective,
proving Ed Kriegler innocent,

what do you say we join forces?

With you? You've
gotta be kidding.

On the contrary,
I'm totally serious.

Stanton, it'll be a
cold day in the Congo

when I join forces with
a second-story man.

Oh.

Like I said before,

you stay out of my
face, I'll stay out of yours.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Mr. Stanton. Mr. Briscoe.

You know my name.
Good. It'll save lots of time.

Oh, please come in.

I'd offer you some
breakfast but I just finished.

Let's not waste a lot
of time, Mr. Stanton.

You've been asking a
lot of questions about me

regarding Calloway's
murder. I don't like it.

I'm sorry about that,

but you made yourself a suspect
when you threatened him publicly.

Listen, I worked as
a cop for 18 years.

You, pal, work for an
insurance company.

Homicide is out of your league.

I think that's for me to decide.

I'm warning you.

You quit poking around.

You're a visitor in this house,
Mr. Briscoe. Please don't do that.

What? This?

I'm trying to get through
to you, you understand me?

(GRUNTS)

I did ask you nicely,

and by the way, there's a
nasty lump here under your coat.

Didn't your mother tell you,
it's dangerous to play with guns.

I got a permit for that.
Not in my house, you don't.

Now, we were discussing the
murder of Truman Calloway.

I didn't kill him.

You didn't waste any time going to
his office the morning after the murder.

May I ask why?

That's none of your business.

How do these things work?

I have the worst
time with pistols.

Hey, take it easy
with that thing!

Nearly shot myself
in the foot once.

You were saying?

Okay, okay. I went to
see Calloway's squeeze.

That bimbo that
works in his office.

Her name is Karen, his
between-marriage snack.

Anyway, I was trying to steer
some action to this lawyer I know.

Oh, I see.

A friend of yours who would
politely cooperate and let you win.

Something like that?

Business is business.

The dumb broad
told me to get lost.

Then I'd say she's not so dumb.

What did you mean by
between-marriages snack?

Just what I said.

Between wives,
she was his action.

It's not like that was
any big news or anything.

It is to me.

Thanks so much, Mr. Briscoe.

And should you call again,

leave your friend at home.

RHODA: That's right.
Miss Perkins from the zoo.

Yes, well we found a wallet yesterday
in the lake with the polar bears

and it's awfully
waterlogged and all

but as best we can make out, it
belongs to a man named Pendergast.

Out of town? Are
you sure about that?

Since last Tuesday?

Well, it's okay. The
wallet wasn't his.

Sorry to bother you.

Excellent, Rhoda.

You have a wonderful gift for deceit
if you ever decide to switch careers.

Thanks, Dennis. But if I ever
go to another Tarzan movie

it'll be too soon.

Did you come up with
anything interesting?

Mostly zip, except for the
little man who wasn't there.

Or rather, he was there
but he isn't there now.

Try that in my good ear. I
think I missed something.

A guy named Johnny Trixler.

Young, beach-boy type
according to the secretary.

He had an appointment with Calloway
the morning of the day he was killed.

He claimed to be married to a Wisconsin
cheese heiress named Greenleaf.

Greenleaf... Greenleaf?

Don't strain your brain.
There is no such lady,

no such cheese company, and
no such guy as Johnny Trixler.

His address was a phony.
So was his phone number

and the hotel where he said he
was staying never heard of him.

Odd.

Wisconsin, you say?
Wisconsin, he said.

What? What is it?

I'm not sure.

Just a thought.

Plenty of coffee...

Just a minute!

Yes, yes, all right. Thank you.

Jason!

For heaven's sakes,
what are you doing here?

I came to see my favorite girl.

How are you, Mom? I'm fine.

But I thought you had finals.

No, not till next week.

But I called home a
couple of days ago

and Aunt Tess said you
had come out here to see him.

I had to.

You didn't have to.

We didn't need him then and we
certainly have no use for him now.

Then you heard.

Yeah. It was all
over TV this morning.

I caught the first flight
out of O'Hare I could.

Got in about an hour ago.

You know, it's funny
how things work.

All those years, not
a word from the guy,

and now all of a sudden,

you're gonna have enough money

to live like a queen
the rest of your life.

STANTON: Rhoda!

Are you sure this
thing's working?

That fax machine is
set and ready to receive.

Well, how long can it take our
Chicago office to locate one photograph?

First they have to
go to the university,

then they have to
contact the Dean and...

You know, if you don't
mind my saying so,

I think you're going for a
three-pointer from mid-court.

Why? Because I
think Johnny Trixler

and Charmaine's son, Jason
Thompson, are one and the same?

They have the same
initials. Big deal.

Well, Johnny Trixler also claimed to be
engaged to a Wisconsin cheese heiress

who, as it turns
out, doesn't exist.

But Wisconsin does.

And where do Charmaine
and her son reside?

Milwaukee. More coincidence.

Like said, it's a Hail
Mary from the end zone.

(FAX MACHINE
BEEPING) Here it comes!

Incredible.

Such an innocent
face, don't you think?

I don't know. There's
something in the eyes.

Well, dear heart, with any luck,

I'm off to save the
company $85,000.

Paperwork to follow.

If you need me, I'm gonna
stop by the lawyer's office,

then to the lady's hotel,

where, with any luck, I hope
to intrude on a family reunion.

JASON: I talked to
the registrar at Hopkins.

They still have the
opening for September.

All we have to do is send a
check by next Wednesday.

Come on, Mom, I can
get into med school!

I thought you'd be excited.

I am, Jason. It's wonderful.

It's just so awful that it
had to happen this way.

You're not gonna tell me you still
care for that money-hungry jerk.

You have no right to say that.

You didn't even know him.

You talked about him enough.

I've read the newspapers.

Anyway, that insurance policy
is part of your divorce settlement.

You're entitled to the money.

STANTON: She certainly is.

Mr. Stanton. Hello
again, Mrs. Calloway.

This must be your son
I've heard so much about.

May I join you?

Dennis Stanton, Mr. Thompson.

Or is it Trixler?

I meet so many people, I find
it hard to keep them sorted out.

I don't believe anyone invited
you to sit down, Mr. Stanton.

Oh, Jason, don't be rude.

No, not rude, Mrs. Calloway.

Self-protective.

Does your mother know
what you've been up to?

I somehow suspect she doesn't.

In which case, one of
us had better explain

before you go to the police.

Police? What are
you talking about?

Jason? What's going on here?

On the day he was killed, your ex-husband
consulted with a prospective client

named Johnny Trixler

who was seeking a divorce
from a non-existent heiress.

The secretary
identified this photo.

Okay, so I flew in a
couple of days ago.

Come on, Mom, I knew you
were gonna beg him for the money

to put me through med school.

I just wanted to
find out for myself

what that creep was like
without him knowing who I was.

Well, why didn't you tell me?

Because he ended
up dead, that's why!

You know how it
looks, don't you?

I mean, why else is he
here? Why else indeed?

Did you kill him? No!

The police may think otherwise.

What a ridiculous idea.

I'm afraid not. Your son
certainly had a motive.

He may even have
had opportunity,

or do you have an alibi
for the time he was killed?

Mom, I swear to
God, I didn't kill him.

Do you want me to take a
lie detector test or something?

You may have your chance.

Excuse me, Stanton, I'm
sorry to interrupt your lunch.

No bother, Lieutenant.

Mr. Thompson, I'm Lieutenant
Catalano, San Francisco Police.

I wonder if you'd mind
coming with us, sir.

I've got a few questions
I'd like to ask you.

Yeah, sure.

Jason... I'll be okay, Mom.

Mrs. Calloway, maybe
you could join us.

I've got a few
questions for you too.

You I don't need.

Well, did I call it, Stanton?

Very nice work, Miss McPhee.

You were right behind me.

Actually, I was
right ahead of you,

but I stopped to
call in the police.

What can I say?

Well you might try "thank you"

since my investigation got
your Mr. Kriegler off the griddle.

Thank you, Marcia.

I just wish I shared your unswerving
certainty of Mr. Thompson's guilt.

Dennis, please. This is
dead-bang open-and-shut.

Maybe one of these days
we'll sit down over a drink

and I'll explain it all to you.

Now that I've been transferred
here to the San Francisco office.

Have you? Well...

I suppose that means we'll
be seeing a lot of each other.

Not if I can help it.

Bye.

Hey, how'd it go?

Oh, predictably. Marcia
McPhee and Lieutenant Catalano

were 20 minutes behind me.

By now young Mr. Thompson
should be looking for a good lawyer.

Excuse me, would you
like to see the paper?

Yeah. I just want the piece
about Hammersmith. Thank you.

Oh yeah, Mr. Oil Baron. He's
a real sweetheart of a guy.

The Honolulu police
just locked him up

for trying to turn a Waikiki
nightclub into a war zone.

Jerome Hammersmith was
arrested shortly before midnight

along with his
companion... (MUMBLING)

Dennis, what is it?

You've got that
look on your face.

Indeed I do, Rhoda.

Unless I'm terribly mistaken,

Miss McPhee is in for a
very rude disappointment.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Hello again.

Mr. Stanton. Back so soon?

I came to say thank you.

That photo you identified,

you'll be pleased to
know that the young man

has been placed under arrest
for your employer's murder.

I'm glad I could help.

Packing up?

There's nothing left to do

and I am a working
girl out of work

so I suppose it's
time to get on with it.

I suppose it'll be difficult.

You worked for Mr. Calloway for
a great many years, I understand.

More than I care to
admit, Mr. Stanton.

But they were good times.

I was very happy here.

Even during his marriages?

I admire your forbearance.

And what is that
supposed to mean?

Just that it must have
been difficult for you,

watching him enter into a
series of unfortunate marriages

while you were in love
with him. That is not true!

Our relationship
was professional.

Nothing more.

This latest fling of his must
have been particularly galling.

I mean, Miss Joyce Templeton.

An obvious fortune hunter.

When you realized that
he planned to marry her,

it was probably too
much for you to bear.

If you will excuse me...

He must have told you his
decision in the office that night.

In a rage, you picked up the
letter opener and stabbed him.

This is ridiculous!

I told you, I was not here.

I left around 6:30.

The police say that Mr. Calloway
was killed around 9:30 or 10:00.

That is true,

but you were here, Miss Davies.

Do you remember the first
time I came to this office?

You were talking to a
client. Mrs. Hammersmith.

I spoke to the private detective
last night, Mrs. Hammersmith.

I caught him just as
he was going to supper.

Ah yes, I am afraid
your husband is there.

Your private detective
had Mr. Hammersmith

under surveillance in
Hawaii, Miss Davies.

Now, people in Hawaii do a lot of
exotic things in the mid-afternoon.

Scuba diving, surfing,
even pearl-diving,

but supper at 3:00?

Hardly.

But if, as you
said on the phone,

he'd been going to
supper, it must've been,

say, 6:00 Honolulu time which
is 9:00 San Francisco time.

You see my point, don't you?

I haven't yet had a chance
to check the phone records,

but I believe they will
bear out my contention.

You're wrong, Mr. Stanton,

and I'm going to prove it.

Miss Davies, I'll be
very disappointed in you

if I find a gun in this purse.

Very disappointed,
indeed, Miss Davies.

I don't know how to thank you,
Mr. Stanton. You sure saved my hide.

Well, I hate to lose a
valued client, Mr. Kriegler.

Chalk it up as good business.

Well, I'm afraid I haven't
been much of a client.

By the way, where's that
waiver you wanted me to sign?

It's right here.

Use my back.

Well, good-bye.

I'm sure you can grab a cab.

Well, can I buy you
lunch or something?

No, no, no, sorry.

No, Rhoda and I have to discuss
business with Lieutenant Catalano.

Good luck. Well, thanks again.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

Ed.

You are about as tough
as marshmallow pie.

Ah, did you ever read
Henry VI, Part 2, Rhoda?

No, I must have missed that one.

Act four, scene two.

Dick, the butcher says,

"The first thing we do,
let's kill all the lawyers."

Now do you think Shakespeare had
those two in mind when he wrote that?

Ah!