Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 7, Episode 8 - The Great Twain Robbery - full transcript

Oh, you expect me to go in
there and seduce Dennis Stanton?

I expect Lindsey to
go and seduce him.

It had something to do
with adultery, didn't it?

I beg your pardon?

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Fire! Somebody,
get a fire extinguisher!

I'm sure you have an alibi
for when the fire started.

Oh, and which will
disappoint you more?

If I do or if I don't?

But he couldn't forge the paper.

Miss Barlow, are
you flirting with me?



Would it upset you if I were?

On the contrary.

But it would lead me to wonder

how soon you expect
your mother back home.

Mrs. Fletcher, could you
please inscribe this to Nadine?

I just love this new
character you've invented.

Why, thank you.

No, really.

Damien Sinclair is a
wonderful new addition

to that roster of
gentlemen thieves.

Arsène Lupin,
Raffles, The Saint...

Praise is a giddy wine, dear
heart, don't let it turn your head.

Dennis!

Jessica.



Yes, your new character
is amusing, perhaps,

but a pale imitation of the real
thing, and I, of all people, should know.

Now, Jessica, I've booked at a
fantastic restaurant in Carmel.

They won't hold the table.

Oh, but I can't. I've got all
these books to sign, Dennis.

Not anymore you don't. No, no.

It's past 6:00, manager's
at the door, key in hand.

Time to get on with
civilized pursuits.

Thank you, Nadine. I
hope you enjoy the book.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Pleasure.

Nice to meet you to be sure.

Well, book tours agree with you,
Jessica. You're as lovely as ever.

Uh-oh. Whenever
you start to flirt,

it usually means that you have
some outrageous story to tell me.

Well, of course.

And what makes this
one so interesting is

that you could never
transmute the hero of it,

me, into that grotesque
alter ego, Damien Sinclair.

Oh, why not?

Because I let the
miscreants get away scot-free.

Now, your Damien Sinclair could
never do anything so un-heroic.

Oh, it did my
larcenous heart good.

You mean, your formerly
larcenous heart, I hope you meant.

Aha, here we are!

JESSICA: Oh, yes, yes.

The recently discovered
Mark Twain? But I've heard...

That it's been denounced
as a forgery? How well I know.

It was I who denounced it.

Oh, now I remember.

Of course, an insurance
policy was involved

and the original
manuscript was destroyed.

Oh, Jessica, whose
story is this anyway?

Come on, I'll tell you all
about it over a Caesar salad.

ERLICH: Now most
of us know Mark Twain

as a kind of
white-haired patriarch.

But it's important to remember
as well that in his youth,

he was a real ladies man.

He wrote The Wild
and Wicked Wench,

had it bound as a kind of a
private amusement for his mistress.

She passed the book down
to Mrs. Barlow's grandmother,

who some people think was
Twain's illegitimate daughter,

and from there it's come
down to us and the present day.

Um, I finally persuaded Mrs.
Barlow to reveal its existence.

Why now, Mr. Erlich?

San Francisco, next week,
plays host to the largest collection

of Twain experts and
enthusiasts in over a decade.

And finally,

Mrs. Barlow has suffered a series
of unfortunate financial reverses

and I've offered to help
her realize what's due her as

custodian of this important
national literary treasure.

Has anybody
checked out this book

to make sure that
it's not some forgery?

Well, no offense,

but obviously literature,
rare books, are not your beat.

Otherwise, I'm sure you'd recognize
Professor Chandler Fitzpatrick.

He's the country's
leading expert

on 19th and 20th century
American literature.

I'm sure Professor Fitzpatrick
would be able to answer any questions

that you'll have about
the book's authenticity

or its provenance.

(ALL CLAMORING)

The Pachelbel Canon,

in deep appreciation for your
help with the Eastmans case.

Well, thank you,

but how are we going to
hear it without your CD player?

What's happened to my CD player?

Verboten.

Der Fuhrer, Herr Butler,
likes to make his own noise.

He's been screaming
for you all morning.

What is he up to now?

They're authenticating
some old book.

Somebody wants to insure
it for five million dollars.

Five...

Good morning, Robert.

Well, well, it would
be if you weren't over

one and one half hours late.

Well, it was such a pleasant
day, I strolled, I window-shopped...

Oh, I got some wonderful music.

Mozart Flute Sonatas for
me and Spike Jones for you.

But somehow I've seemed to
have mislaid my sound system.

Well, you will find it down
at the reception desk,

wrapped and ready to go home.

We are running an office
here, not Philharmonic Hall!

Besides, after
I'm done with this,

I want to have a
conversation with you

about a claim for that
damaged Limoges.

Oh, I wrapped up that little
matter at 2:30 this morning.

This wouldn't be the
new Mark Twain book

I've heard so much
about, would it?

Magnificent, isn't it?

In moments like this, I
sense the presence of genius.

Yes.

I feel the same way
often in Robert's company.

He means the book.

Insurance applied for by one

Lawrence Erlich?

As agent for the
owner, yes, this is him.

If you don't mind,

I mean, I have to get this
done before this afternoon.

If you have
nothing better to do,

I suggest you might try
catching up on those reports

that you've
promised me all week.

Certainly.

If I may just offer one
small word of advice,

examine that manuscript
with special diligence.

Why?

Do you know
something I don't know?

Well, all I'm saying is

that five million is a great
deal of money for a book.

That is what one Japanese
collector has already offered.

Besides, I have already had
the manuscript authenticated

by no less of an expert
than Chandler Fitzpatrick.

Mr. Butler, you
didn't tell me that

Professor Fitzpatrick
had already certified this.

Robert, excuse me.

I know you've explained these
forms to me a dozen times,

but this form,
subsection B of 72...

Now is that where I enter the
estimated value of the claim,

or the adjusted value?

No. You do not
use a 72 for this!

You need a 15.
You gotta do an...

MAN: Fire!

Fire!

Everybody out of the building!

(PEOPLE COUGHING)

(FIRE ALARM
RINGING) Fire! It's a fire.

Listen, quick! Somebody
get a fire extinguisher!

Shut that alarm off!

MAN: Fire.

BUTLER: Uh, shut the alarm off.
Somebody get a fire extinguisher!

(PEOPLE SHOUTING)

(PEOPLE LAUGHING)

All right, let's have the
book face in this direction.

Check the seal on
this case. This is awful.

Have it back in 45
minutes. I'll be right with you.

(SIGHS)

My God.

Dennis Stanton. It
must be what, 20 years?

Nearly 25 actually.

Well, how are you, Lawrence?

I couldn't be better.

You, uh, still up
to your old tricks?

More to the point,
Lawrence, are you?

I work for Consolidated
Casualty Insurance Company.

Ah, yes, well, I suppose
it was too much to hope

that you were merely a
Mark Twain fan, mmm?

You're not here for some
kind of shakedown, are you?

I mean, that was
never your style.

What could I tell anyone?

That you were absolutely
the best forger I'd ever met?

And second only
to me as a con man?

No, no, I was better.

But all that's in the past now.

I've been legitimate
for nearly a decade.

Have you? Mmm.

I know it's incredible,
but it's true.

You know, all those
years practicing my craft

gave me entrée
to the best houses.

All those experts,
I finally realized

that I knew as much as they did.

I knew more than they did.

And finally it dawned on me that
I could make just as much money

for much less risk by
simply jumping the fence.

Do you know, I'm having
almost as much fun now as

when I was a crook.

You don't believe a
word I'm saying, do you?

Well, as you said, you're almost
as good a con man as I am.

No, no, I said better.

Lawrence, you have to know, I
will not let you defraud my company.

For the sake of our
old acquaintance,

I've said nothing
about your past.

What past?

I was never indicted,
never arrested.

You know, Dennis,

I've worked very hard
to get to where I am.

If I were to hear even the
slightest public inference

that I was less
than totally honest,

I'd sue you for every
penny you've got.

Then I take it you
will not withdraw

the Twain manuscript
from Consolidated?

You take that manuscript
to any expert in the country.

I mean, the best, and
I know because I have.

They'll all tell you
the same thing.

It's the genuine article.

I mean, it's enough to make a
man believe in divine providence!

Listen, I've gotta get
back to the display.

Your man, Mr. Butler, promised to
have the manuscript back in an hour.

Dennis, you know,
you of all people

should believe that someone
can turn over a new leaf.

I mean,

look at you.

Yes, I'll be there
in half an hour.

I really appreciate
the time, old friend.

Uh, Mr. Stanton?

Oh, Professor Fitzpatrick.
Oh, it's an honor to meet...

Lawrence Erlich tells me
that you're casting doubt

on the authenticity of The
Wild And Wicked Wench.

Now I have staked my
reputation on this book.

What qualifications
could you possibly have

to question my judgment?

Professor, please
understand my position.

As a representative of
the insurance company...

Now don't take refuge
in petty bureaucracy, sir.

Now, you are either going to
furnish some smidgen of evidence,

or else you will cease your
smarmy insinuations at once.

Do I make myself clear?

And you obtained
this specimen...

Ah, some fool lit a
fire in his wastebasket.

I took the opportunity to
snatch this page away to safety.

Since the book will be
displayed under glass,

it won't be noticed for days.

Dennis, (GRUNTS)

I owe you a great deal,

but I'm an old man,
discredited in the profession...

Through no fault of your own.

True. It was an honest mistake,

but one does not challenge
Chandler Fitzpatrick

without being absolutely sure

there's no mistake,
honest or otherwise.

He ruined me,

but I've come to be content, here
in my library, buried in my books.

I'm sorry.

I'm a man whose judgment
can no longer be trusted.

Constantine, old friend,

it can by me.

Now what if I were to tell you

that it was Chandler Fitzpatrick

who provided the
authentication for this book?

Oh? Mmm.

Oh, oh, oh, oh.

And you say this was
discovered by a man

known to be a forger?

The best I ever met.

Well, well, well, well, well.

What an appetizing prospect.

Is he going to give
us any trouble?

I don't think so.

Let me do a little checking.

I'll see you later
at the costume ball.

Lawrence...

(PEOPLE LAUGHING)

Mother! Lindsey!

What are you doing
here in San Francisco?

Oh, my God, you're not here
with that ancient rock 'n' roll singer?

No, Mother, Roger
is still in England.

And at Roger's age, they are not
called ancient rock 'n' roll singers,

they're called legends.

Look, don't say I told you
so, but he threw me out.

Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay?

Yes. Yeah, I'm fine.

I just discovered
that with legends

there are always plenty of
other young women around.

Come on. Let me buy
you a cup of coffee.

Oh, wait, but before we do,
I'd love to take a look at this

wonderful book I've been reading
about before you auction it off.

Oh? Is that why
you've come back?

You think I'm coming
into some money?

Why, Mother, how can
you be so suspicious?

Especially since I can't understand
why this precious family heirloom

that's been passed down
from mother to daughter

I've never heard of it before.

Lindsey, keep that to yourself.

This isn't a game.

I'm sure it isn't.

We better talk.

There I was, Beth,
after all these years,

face to face with
Lawrence Erlich again.

(CHUCKLES)

It brought back so
many memories.

And, you know, all I could
think of the entire time

was how much you loved books.

Remember how angry you got

when I dog-eared a
page to mark my place?

And there I was,

tearing up what might
be a priceless manuscript.

Ah, well.

If I'm right, it won't
make any difference.

And if I'm wrong,

well, I may be a bit rusty to
go back to the old profession,

but I'm sure there are plenty of
jobs for a man of my qualifications.

Although, at the moment,
I can't think of any.

The councilman
denied any involvement.

The Mayor, however, insists
that the investigation will continue.

Earlier tonight, a blaze swept
through the convention room

of the Fairmont Hotel.

Damage to the hotel was
minimal, fire officials said,

but the newly-discovered manuscript
of Mark Twain's long-lost book,

The Wild and Wicked Wench,
was completely destroyed.

Oh, Lawrence,

you can't really expect
to get away with this.

Can you?

DENNIS: Inspector Oliver?

Dennis Stanton,
Consolidated Casualty.

You're in charge
of the investigation?

You guys carry
the hotel's policy?

Only some of the contents.

I understand the fire
was electrical in origin?

That's sure what it looks like.

The one question I have
is why it spread so fast.

You mean it may have been arson?

Boy, I sure hope so.

I haven't had a decent
arson in months.

Nice to meet a man
who enjoys his work.

May I look?

Go ahead. Be my guest.

It's a damn shame.

It was a beautiful manuscript.

Lawrence, I'm very
disappointed in you.

Dennis, you don't think that...

Surely you don't think

that I expect to pull something
like this off on you, huh?

How stupid do you think I am?

I'm sure you have an alibi
for when the fire started.

Oh, and which will
disappoint you more?

If I do or if I don't?

Actually, I was at the costume
ball wearing a little more than

an oversized fig leaf in
full view of the assemblage.

If you'll forgive the
expression, as Adam.

Adam?

And if you don't believe me, I'll
be glad to show you the outfit.

Oh, not before
breakfast, thank you.

(CHUCKLING)

I'm going to get you.

Yes, I'm sure
you're going to try.

Robert not in yet?

Are you kidding? He's upstairs.

They've had him on the
carpet since 8:00 this morning.

You insure something
for five million dollars

and six hours later
it goes up in flames,

someone's liable to notice.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Robert.

Mmm?

Are you all right?

I should have listened to you.

I never, I never should have
touched that damned manuscript.

Keating is holding me
personally responsible!

What an ungenerous attitude.

Robert, I'm not
saying it's possible,

but if someone could prove that
the manuscript were a forgery,

getting you and the
company off the hook,

what might that
someone expect in return?

Bonus?

That's what you're looking
for? Some kind of reward?

Well, in a manner of speaking.

Not money. Nothing so mundane.

But to be honest, I do
miss the strains of Mozart

wafting through
these sterile corridors.

Don't you?

Constantine, old friend,

it is frustrating
watching you do nothing.

Well, I'm hardly doing nothing.

I'm eating, I'm
drinking, I'm reading.

And I'm awaiting.

Awaiting what?

If I knew, I wouldn't
be awaiting.

Well, while you
do, Lawrence Erlich

gets away with a five
million dollar fraud!

This, uh, Mr. Erlich.

There's something between
you. Something in your past.

See, you would talk freely about
anything except your feelings.

And your dear, sadly
missed Elizabeth.

So what has Mr. Ehrlich to do with
the memory of your poor, dead wife?

Elizabeth and I went
through a difficult time once.

All marriages do, I suppose.

I blame myself entirely
for this one. And...

And he took advantage. Yes,
it's now coming back to me.

I don't believe anything
happened between them

and I certainly never asked.

But, yes, this may be something
more than professional zeal.

Nonetheless, I feel it.

There's something all wrong.

If it comforts you, for
me it also feels wrong.

But I can't put my
finger on exactly why,

and I'm quite sure
that the binding

dates back to the
turn of the century.

I also tested the ink,

and it's fully
consistent with the ink

that was used in San
Francisco a hundred years ago.

Well, you also said
that it was common ink,

which might easily have
been artificially aged.

Yes, but there's more.

You see, I've been
re-reading my Twain,

and the writing style
is completely consistent

with his San Francisco period.

And, to a trained eye, the
handwriting is either Twain

or a superb forgery.

Lawrence Erlich
is a superb forger.

Yes, but he couldn't
forge the paper.

The paper is as old
as it purports to be.

So you're saying what?

That the manuscript
is the genuine article?

I'm saying no such thing.

A warning bell has
rung in my mind.

A faint bell, but a
bell nonetheless,

and until I can deduce
what that bell means,

I can't help you.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Hi.

Oh, Miss Barlow?

You must be Mr. Stanton.

Well, I'm afraid my
mother isn't home yet,

but maybe you'd like
to come in and wait.

Thank you.

Very nice.

Mr. Erlich found it for us.

I have to confess, when I
spoke to you on the phone,

I wasn't expecting
someone quite so...

Venerable.

I like that word.

I like that word.
May I take your coat?

Thank you.

And then perhaps you could
assist me across the room.

Don't be touchy. I
adore older men.

I find them fascinating.
They've had experiences.

Miss Barlow, are
you flirting with me?

Would it upset you if I were?

On the contrary.

But it would lead me to wonder

how soon you expect
your mother back home.

Well, my mother and Mr. Erlich

are at her publishers
going over the transcript.

Ah. So the manuscript's
being transcribed?

Yes. It's the first thing
Mr. Erlich insisted on.

I think he'd like to foster a bidding
war for the publication rights.

Mr. Erlich thinks of everything.

Can I offer you something?
Coffee, perhaps? Drink?

Or maybe you'd like to
have dinner with me tonight?

You're a very
beautiful young lady,

but suddenly, I don't know why,

I'm put in mind
of a runaway train.

Mother!

We were just talking about you.

This is Mr. Stanton from
the insurance company.

Mrs. Barlow.

A pleasure to meet you, at last.

I doubt that, Mr. Stanton.

Lawrence has told me about you.

Ah, Well,

I see where your daughter gets
her forthright as well as her beauty.

Look, if... If you've come here to
make trouble about our claim I...

Quite the contrary, dear lady.

My company is
completely prepared to pay.

Unfortunately, there is
one small technicality.

You see, insurance
companies are forbidden from

disbursing benefits in the
cases of possible arson.

At least until the police are
reasonably sure that the crime...

Don't worry, Mother.

I'm sure he means
the alleged crime.

Exactly.

The alleged crime was not
committed for the purposes of fraud.

So far, we are told

there is not a shred of evidence
connecting you with the fire.

That's reassuring.

With any luck, you should receive
your check by the end of the week.

I hope that won't
inconvenience you.

Not at all.

I'll leave you these
forms instructing us how

and where you prefer
payment to be made.

Thank you.

Now, I... I don't
wish to appear rude...

I understand. Yes.

I can show myself out.

Again, a pleasure to meet you.

How about Otto's Grotto. 8:30?

Seafood?

My favorite. I'd be delighted.

Good. I'll meet you there.

Oh, and since you haven't
come through with the check yet,

you're paying.

I wouldn't have
it any other way.

Would you care to
join us, Mrs. Barlow?

No, no, I...

I have other plans this evening.

Well, till this evening then.

Business.

(PHONE RINGING)

(BEEPS)

DENNIS: I'm sorry I'm
not here to get your call,

but leave a message and
I'll return it as soon as I get in.

(BEEPS)

Dennis, the bell finally rang!

Rang? It pealed
with joy! I've found it!

Forget the time.

Come over here the
minute you get home.

(CAR TIRES SQUEALING)

Would you like another
glass of wine, Mr. Stanton?

No, thank you, Jean Pierre.

Looks as though
I've been stood up.

Women,

you know, they sometimes
take forever to get ready.

Hi. I'm sorry we're late.

It took me all afternoon to
convince Mother to join us.

And it took her
forever to get ready.

I hope you don't
mind, Mr. Stanton.

I realized earlier that I
was terribly rude to you

and I wanted to apologize.

Totally unnecessary.

And as for minding,

my only possible
regret would be that

to gaze at one of you will mean
looking away from the other.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Stanton.

You know, as soon as I heard the
victim was some kind of old book expert,

I had this gut feeling
that you were involved.

DENNIS: When I got home I
found his message on my machine.

I came directly here.

CATALANO: He didn't
say what he wanted?

Well it... It was
a private matter.

Murder makes it
pretty public, Stanton.

I'll make it easy for you.

It had something to do
with adultery, didn't it?

I beg your pardon?

Adultery. You know,
another man's wife.

I figure that's what he's
trying to tell us with the book.

Book?

Lieutenant, I haven't the foggiest
idea what you're talking about.

You say he was dead
when you got here?

Yeah. Now we figure he
was shot here at the desk

and then somehow managed
to crawl over to the bookcase,

you can see the trail of blood,

and wrestle a copy of The Scarlet
Letter out of the bottom shelf.

Scarlet Letter?

Yeah, you know,
Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Hester, uh, what's her name?

Adultery, all that stuff.

Anyway, the guy is dying,

so I figure he's not going over
there for a little light reading material.

He's trying to tell
someone something.

And since you're the
one he knows is coming...

May I look at the book? Yeah.

You'll need a handkerchief.

Nothing's been removed?

Come on, this is a crime scene.
Of course nothing's been removed.

Now, we've checked the book.

There's no notes, no
marks inside the book.

Nothing.

What do you think
he's trying to tell us?

I mean, it has to be something
to do with adultery, right?

Lieutenant, I give you my solemn
word that I have no more idea

of what Constantine was
trying to tell us than you do.

Why didn't you tell him about the
page you took out of the manuscript?

Rhoda, darling, I'd
be perfectly willing

to admit my folly if it would help
catch whoever killed Constantine.

But so far, there's nothing
definite to link the two.

Well, listen, uh...

You asked me to find out
about old publishing paper.

You wanna hear what I've got
or do you wanna wait till morning?

Now. Please.

Well, first of all, there's more
of it around than you'd think.

Uh, some of it
turns up every year.

In the last ten years,
there've been a dozen finds.

The largest of which was
from an old paper factory

they were tearing
down in London.

Even if you find
the missing page,

I don't know how
you're gonna prove

that paper is this
paper because...

(GRUNTS)

Dennis, are you listening to me?

(SIGHS)

Dennis, I'm... I'm
sorry about your friend.

Hmm?

Oh, I'm sorry.

The Scarlet Letter, I know,
that it's got you bugged, huh?

There's a connection
between The Scarlet Letter

and the missing
manuscript page, but what?

Maybe Mark Twain wrote
about The Scarlet Letter.

Or about Nathaniel
Hawthorne or...

Scarlet Letter.
The Scarlet Letter.

The Scarlet Letter.

The Scarlet...

The Scarlet Letter!

Constantine, you
beautiful, devious genius!

You're looking in
the wrong section.

Am I?

You shouldn't have
killed him, Lawrence.

I didn't.

I don't suppose it
matters now, but I didn't.

I've always hated you, Dennis.

You must know that.

You and your precious Elizabeth.

There was someone
I could have loved,

but she'd have nothing to
do with me. Said she had

the best.

Why should she settle

for a pale imitation?

Well, look...

(GUN FIRES)

(GRUNTS)

(CAR TIRES SCREECHING)

I knew we'd get you
sooner or later, Stanton.

The good behavior couldn't last.

But you've not only
violated your parole,

but we've got you for breaking
and entering, obstructing justice,

tampering with a police seal...

Lieutenant, I told you, Lawrence
Erlich had already broken the seal.

And the longer you keep me here,
the further away he's going to get.

Oh, don't make me laugh!

Of course, you couldn't have bothered
to tell me about Lawrence Erlich

and the missing page until
we caught you red-handed.

Because I didn't know
then where the page was.

As far as I knew, he'd
already retrieved it.

What makes you think he didn't?

But of course he didn't. Otherwise,
why would he have come back?

Oh, and now, like some revelation,
you suddenly know where this

mythical manuscript page is.

Exactly. Because
I finally realized

Stavros didn't mean
The Scarlet Letter.

He meant the Scarlett letter.

Now, may I?

This was the case that
made Stavros' reputation.

Some dealer in Georgia
claimed to have a letter

from Margaret Mitchell
describing how she created

the character of
Scarlett O'Hara.

Constantine proved
it was a forgery.

You see? What he was
trying to remind me of

was the Scarlett letter.

Constantine Stavros
was an indifferent scholar

and very slipshod
in his methodology.

But he was an honest man, and I
was very sorry to hear of his death.

Well, the message
on my phone machine

said that he'd found
something on the page.

Well, you say it
wasn't the paper,

it wasn't the ink,

it wasn't the
handwriting or the style.

Mr. Stanton, I invite you to look
at that page. That's all there is.

There is nothing else there.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Yes, what is it?

Police, I need to
talk to Mr. Stanton.

Stanton, I thought you'd like to
know we found Lawrence Erlich.

Oh. Is he here in the hotel?

He was, but he stepped out.

Dennis, I'm so sorry.

It's all right, Rhoda.
I knew the risk.

But it's so unfair!
The book is a forgery.

Erlich's suicide proves
that it's a forgery.

If it was a suicide. He may
have fallen or been pushed.

Well, that's no
reason to fire you!

Well, of course it is!

Until we can
prove it's a forgery,

The Wild and Wicked Wench
must be taken as genuine.

And if it ever got out

that an employee of
this insurance company

defaced a priceless
manuscript...

(EXCLAIMING)
But it's not priceless!

Well, now that, dear heart,

is what is known
as circular logic.

It's sweet, it's emotional,
but it wouldn't hold up

in an undergraduate
debating society,

much less a court of law.

And now they're gonna
revoke your probation.

Until I can get another
job. Look, not to worry.

Life is a toy chest
of opportunity.

(GRUNTS)

Okay, Sondergard,
this will be your desk.

Now, if you don't
like the decor in here,

we'll have the
painters in here this...

Oh. Stanton.

I... I thought you left.

Without saying goodbye?
I wouldn't dream of it.

Well, goodbye.

Goodbye.

Okay, Sondergard, come
on. I'll show you the cafeteria.

Oh, they do a superb
salmon surprise.

I highly recommend it,

early in the week.

Dennis... Oh!

Take care, Rhoda.

This is not goodbye.
It is au revoir.

And as soon as I'm settled in
somewhere else, I'll send for you.

Promise.

Well, there's one thing
that life's taught me.

Travel light.

(SIGHS)

Paper, ink, handwriting, style.

Odd, you never
mentioned the dye.

The dye? What do
you mean the dye?

Along the edge.

You can't see it
on a single page,

but when all the pages of a
manuscript are bound together...

Like this book. See?

Yes, it's called the staining.

Staining then.

Now I saw the manuscript
before it was burned.

There was staining
along the edge.

No. Nothing unusual about that.

Which is why I never
gave it a second thought.

But then, I found out about this

cache of 150-year-old paper

with exactly the
same mauve staining.

We got in touch with
the people in England.

And to whom do you
suppose they sold the paper?

Mmm-hmm.

Lawrence Erlich.

Astonishing coincidence,
don't you think?

So you still believe
that book was a forgery.

You think that Erlich
was able to deceive me?

I think nothing of the sort. I
think you were in it with him,

right up to your hairy chin.

(CHUCKLES)

How dare you accuse me of that?

I don't know, I
simply open my mouth

and the oddest things come out.

In this case, however, I
think an intensive comparison

between the London paper
and this manuscript page

will turn up some very
embarrassing similarities.

Well, what if it did?

We can all make an honest
mistake from time to time.

You mean like
Constantine Stavros did?

Yes. All right.

All right, for the moment
let's say you were right.

Actually, I don't much
care about the manuscript,

but I do care about the murder.

Oh, I see.

Now, first you
accuse me of fraud,

and now you're
accusing me of murder?

Oh, no. Quite the opposite.

I'm asking you to help
me to catch a murderer.

Or, more precisely, a murderess.

Mrs. Barlow?

Erlich's gun was a .38.

The gun that killed
Constantine was a .22.

A small gun, a woman's weapon,
easily concealed in a purse.

Now, Erlich and Mrs. Barlow

went together to
retrieve the page.

Then she came to dinner
with me to establish an alibi.

Later, Erlich went back
to search for the page.

But when he told her
that I had caught him there,

she panicked.

So you think she pushed
him out of the window?

Well, he was the only
connection that could lead to her.

I also think

that Mrs. Barlow still has the .22
pistol she killed Constantine with.

All I need to do is find it.

And I need your help to make
it possible to search her house.

Oh, I see.

And why should I help you?

You owe Stavros. You owe Erlich.

It was your authentication
that got this whole thing started.

Yeah. Point well taken.

In return,

I would see that no breath of
scandal sullies your otherwise

impeccable reputation.

(CHUCKLES)

I see.

The police can't search
for the .22 without a warrant.

But if Mrs. Barlow were to be at
my place for an intimate dinner, say,

and then to be caught

attempting to steal the manuscript
page while my back was turned,

now that would certainly
constitute probable cause.

You see where I'm
headed Mr. Fitzpatrick?

Mmm-hmm.

(PEOPLE LAUGHING)

All of us are in danger
of going to prison

as long as that
manuscript page exists.

Now, one of us has to
get it back and destroy it.

Lawrence never told
me you were a part of it.

He told me we'd fooled you.

Oh, come now, dear lady.

You couldn't have brought
this off without my connivance.

Now, surely you realize that.

No. What I realize is that you'd
like a cut of the insurance money.

Well, unless you would prefer me

to re-examine that page and
express sudden new doubts...

Stanton keeps that
page in his apartment.

What are you suggesting?

We hire a burglar to
go in there and steal it?

Oh, yes, and let another
person in on our secret?

No, I think not.

Anyway, I was
under the impression

the two of you were on
extremely friendly terms

with Dennis Stanton.

Oh, you expect me to go in
there and seduce Dennis Stanton?

Oh, no, no, no. Of course not.

I expect Lindsey to
go and seduce him.

Oh, don't be vulgar.

Vulgar?

Prison is vulgar.

He's right, Mother.

I'll do it.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Mrs. Barlow.

Good evening, sir.

Detective Ishimini
at your service.

Of course, it occurred to me that I
may be wrong about Mrs. Barlow.

Oh, I presume that's the gun
you killed Constantine Stavros with,

which you planned to
plant on Mrs. Barlow's body.

Drop it, Professor.

I'll kill him.

Now, don't move out
of this room, any of you.

If I get a glimpse of even
one of your moronic faces,

I'll shoot.

(GRUNTING)

(GUN FIRES)

(DENNIS GROANS)

You all right, Stanton?

The reports of my death,
as Mr. Twain once remarked,

are greatly exaggerated.

Dennis, welcome back.

I got you a present.

Thank you, Robert.
What a pleasant surprise.

(EXCLAIMS)

Mantovani Plays the Classics.

Well, I asked the man at
the store. He said you'd like it.

Yes, thank you, Robert.
That was a lovely thought.

Well, you're welcome.

I will need you to talk
to the District Attorney.

Oh, I'm sorry, Robert, I'm...

I'm still in the midst
of my convalescence.

It may be a week or so before I,

(GROANS) thank you,
can come back full-time.

Oh, no, no, no, no. Take
all the time you need.

Yes.

It's about the, uh,
Barlow prosecution.

Ah, well, I'm afraid
there's a serious problem

about any prosecution
of the Barlows.

They had nothing to
do with either murder.

Fitzpatrick not only
killed poor Constantine,

but he also confessed to
pushing Erlich out of the window.

Without their cooperation, we
could never have caught him.

What do you mean?

They tried to
defraud the company.

I'm afraid we have no
physical proof of that.

No physical evidence?

We have the forged
manuscript page.

We don't have the
forged manuscript page?

No, Lindsey Barlow went
to my place to retrieve it.

As far as I know, she
has it, if it still exists.

You let her destroy it?

I made a deal to trap a
killer. I intend to honor it.

Oh, don't look so glum, Robert.

District Attorneys
do it all the time.

The Barlows have agreed to withdraw
their claim for five million dollars,

so your record is still intact.

Oh, I'm late already.

Bye.

You were up there
an awful long time.

Any problems? None. None.

Just re-explaining the
terms of our arrangement

to my superior, a man not
given to grasping the obvious.

Lindsey. I didn't
expect you as well.

Well, Mother said you were going
on a day trip to the wine country.

I thought it sounded like fun.

Lindsey, you are a loyal
and concerned daughter,

but don't you think it's time
that you let your mother out

without a chaperone?

Yeah. I guess it is.

Have a good time.

We plan to.

Oh, and Mother, don't
let him get you tipsy.

That wine can catch up on you.

Oh, and Dennis, don't
keep her out too late.

I expect you both
back by midnight.

Midnight?