The Streets of San Francisco (1972–1977): Season 5, Episode 8 - Child of Anger - full transcript
A teenage girl is frustrated by her mother's condescending ways. When a man she sees strike her mother is killed by the mob the girl is a witness. She claims responsibility to damage her family reputation hoping her mother feels degraded.
(theme music playing)
♪♪
- Oh, hi, Virginia.
- Hi.
Is my mom here?
She'll be back in a minute.
But there's someone
waiting for her in the office.
Oh, who, the guy who wears
the greasy kid stuff on his head?
This is the one that
smiles all the time.
Oh, him.
Hello, Mel. What
are you doing here?
Hi, Mother.
You said we were
gonna have lunch today.
Did you have to wear that dress?
It makes you look like a lump.
Mr. Stillman's
waiting in your office.
Oh, all right. I can't have
lunch today, dumpling,
but I can tomorrow.
Mother, don't call me dumpling.
Why don't you do
something about your hair.
What do you suggest?
What's on your mind, Jerry?
Mmm.
You.
Not the way you
kissed me just now.
Well, if I thought you
were gonna grade me,
I'd give you a great big hug.
(quiet chuckle) Well, that
would rate you about a C-plus.
So, what else is on your mind?
I'm in... I'm in trouble, baby.
Somebody into your
book for a big score?
No. I'm in someone else's
book for some heavy action.
You're a bookie, Jerry!
You shouldn't be
playing the horses.
But it was a sure thing in the
fifth race at Hollywood Park.
He was six lengths ahead
going into the stretch,
and he fell down.
He fell down!
Jockey's still in the hospital.
If I don't pay up...
I could be in the next bed.
Are you asking me
for money, Jerry?
Aw, hey, baby... (chuckles)
When you need something,
who do you go to?
- Your friends, right?
- Mm.
Well, you'd better
go to your friends,
because I wouldn't
give you five cents.
(exhales)
Well, it's not
five cents, honey.
- It's $50,000.
- Oh.
- Oh, but not all at once.
- Mm-mm.
$25,000 to start.
Well... you tell me what
hospital, and I'll send flowers.
(gasps)
Julia... I'll be by your
place tonight to pick it up.
(gasps)
Mother!
Get out!
Get out! Get out!
Well, that last kiss, uh...
ought to bring up my
average to at least a B-plus.
(low groan)
See you.
MAN: Jerry.
- (chuckling)
- Hey, Prince. How you doing?
Fine, fine.
I was just gonna call you.
Yeah, well if you
hurry, you'll be late.
We've been looking all
over for you, for weeks.
Well, you just
haven't been looking
in the right place,
now, have you?
Well, you see, your
bill's overdue, Jerry.
We're gonna have
to have a little talk.
You understand.
Look, you're gonna
get your money.
Just tell Kyd that, uh...
it's in the works.
Wait. We're not quite
through with you yet.
Well, you see,
now, he knows that.
He just thought it
might help if we, uh,
gave you a little incentive.
(grunting)
(gunshot)
He's-he's dead.
Yeah, look, get his keys.
You help me get him in
my car, and you follow in his.
Come on.
Hey, look, Ethan...
Hey, you look... just do it.
♪♪
Now, how long has he been dead?
Oh, rigor's well advanced.
Considering the state
of the weather, oh...
14 to 16 hours.
Anything else?
Nothing you didn't
see for yourself.
He was shot in the
chest, at very close range,
judging by the powder burns.
Okay!
You say you knew him?
Yeah, Stillman, Jerome Stillman.
He used to run an
independent book
over at the Old Imperial Hotel.
Remember that one? (chuckles)
Very quick to collect,
but very slow to pay.
Sounds as though you
won't lack for suspects.
That's right.
- Well, what do you got?
- ROBBINS: No cartridge case.
There's a well-defined tire
track at the edge of the road.
You want a mold?
(laughs): Okay, I'll get a mold.
(chuckles)
(turns off engine)
(horses galloping)
Whoa. Whoa.
Well, don't
everybody talk at once.
Well, things just
got out of hand.
We had no choice.
(heavy sigh)
(sighs) He owed me
a lot of money, Ethan.
(sighs) How am I gonna
collect it from him now?
(chuckles) Hire a medium?
Look, I didn't mean
for it to happen, Frank.
It was an accident.
Is that right?
- Yeah, I guess so.
- What's the matter with you?
Well, I don't like it, Mr. Kyd.
I was hired to collect,
not to go around...
You don't like it?
I don't like it.
Nobody likes it.
But the next time I send
you somewhere to collect,
it'll be a lot easier.
This kind of thing gets around.
People like to stay
healthy, so they pay up.
Can I go now?
Go.
(Prince sighs)
I worry about him.
Eh, he's an accessory.
He's a witness.
And he's nervous.
Yeah?
Where?
All right, Mr. Green, I'll
be there in ten minutes.
ROBBINS: You got a meeting?
Yep. With a man who
might have something
to gain by talking to us.
Who's that?
One of Stillman's competitors.
I got the ballistics
report on the slug.
It's from a nine-millimeter
automatic, octagon rifling.
Good. Come on.
♪♪
You said ten
minutes. It's been 15.
Tell your friend
to take it easy.
You said you had
something on Stillman.
His girlfriend.
He worked her
over the other day.
He wasn't scratched
to death, Mr. Green,
he was shot to death
by a professional.
So she has enough
money to buy him a funeral.
You got a name?
Julia Desmond.
That's a name even I recognize.
What about his book?
Did he owe anybody?
Everybody.
If I find anyone...
in particular...
I'll let you know.
Thanks.
(door opens)
(door closes)
- I'll take these three for now.
- That's fine, Virginia.
(Julia clears throat)
MEL: Hey, Virginia.
- Mother?
- Oh, if you came to have lunch,
I can't make it today, dumpling.
That's not why I'm here.
It wouldn't hurt your figure
to skip a few lunches, anyway.
I wanted to talk to you
about Jerry Stillman.
Now, listen, that is
none of your business.
But, Mother...
It's my private life and
none of your business,
so stay out of it.
I thought I was part
of your private life, too.
Oh, don't play word
games with me, dumpling.
You know what I mean.
Mother, please don't
call me dumpling.
But that's what you
remind me of, darling.
All soft and shapeless
like a dumpling.
Look at that hair.
Call Mr. Joseph today and see
if he can't do something about it.
Will you get off my back?!
You ride me like a broom!
STONE: Mrs. Desmond,
I'm Lieutenant Stone,
and this is Inspector Robbins.
Could we talk to you, please?
Oh. Excuse me. This
is my daughter Melanie.
Hello.
Why don't we talk in my office?
I know, Mother. It's
personal business.
I'll wait here.
(indistinct crowd chatter)
(door opening)
(whirring)
JULIA: What can I do for you?
Mrs. Desmond, are you acquainted
with a man named Jerry Stillman?
Yes. Well.
You know, we met
at parties and things.
I, uh, heard about his
murder on the radio.
Terrible thing.
STONE: You knew
him socially then?
Socially, yes.
Thank you.
And no better than that?
I don't understand.
Were you lovers?
Do I have to answer
these questions?
No. We can go
down to the station,
and you can call your lawyer.
You know that he
had mob connections?
Jerry and I weren't in
business. We were...
- Close friends.
- Close friends.
Look, how much of this
will get into the record?
I don't want the newspapers
to get a hold of it because,
well, I don't particularly like
to be humiliated in public.
ROBBINS: We'll see to it that
it's kept as quiet as possible.
Did you ever have
a fight with him?
Of course. Every now and again.
I mean recently.
She didn't do it.
Melanie!
It was me, not her.
I did it.
STONE: You did what?
I murdered Jerry Stillman.
All right, Miss Desmond.
Why don't you call me Mel?
And why don't you
start at the beginning
and tell me everything
that happened?
Okay.
I heard my mother scream,
and I entered the office.
Jerry was clutching
her by her dress.
The blue-green original,
wasn't it, Mother?
Melanie, will you stop this?
I know what I'm doing, Mother.
I waited by Jerry's car
upstairs, and when he came up,
I told him if he
didn't stay away
from my mother, I'd kill him.
Lieutenant, I
must object to this.
MEL: It's all right,
Mr. Foster. They can't
do anything to me
anyway. I'm a juvenile.
Melanie!
You don't know
what you're saying.
Do I have to remain silent
because he tells me to?
- No.
- Then I wish you'd just stay out of this.
Anyway, Jerry reached out
to push me out of his way,
and I kicked him.
He grabbed me by the shoulders,
and he started shaking me.
I reached out to grab him,
and he had a gun under his coat.
I grabbed it, and it went off.
How close were you to
the gun when it went off?
Right up against him.
Did you see the kind it was?
Uh, no. It was just a gun.
Did you get a good look at it?
Yeah, afterwards.
Could you recognize
it if you saw it again?
Sure.
And what did you do then?
I put the body in the car,
and I drove it
down by that cliff.
And, um...
Oh, I remember.
Then I walked home.
You walked home?
And what did you
do with the gun?
Threw it over the cliff.
Mm. Come along with me.
Uh, uh. Lieutenant...
Just routine.
Come along.
Now... I want you
to point out the one
that most resembles the
gun that you used, okay?
Now, really, Lieutenant.
Okay.
It's this one.
What is it?
Nine millimeter automatic.
The type that killed Stillman.
Ira?
It's all right.
I'll have a writ ten
minutes after she's booked.
She'll be released
in your custody.
As the Lieutenant
says, just routine.
Do you own a gun like
that, Mrs. Desmond?
No, I don't have any gun.
What about your husband?
We're divorced.
We don't even live together.
Daniel... take her downstairs.
Don't worry, Mother.
Everything's going
to be just fine.
Let's go.
Well, she's out.
Released to her mother.
(Robbins sighs)
You find the gun?
No, not yet.
Somehow I'm not surprised.
Neither am I.
What's troubling you?
Same thing that's
bugging you... Her story.
It's all too easy, too pat.
She did point out
that gun, though.
Blood on the roof,
nine millimeter cartridge.
She didn't read all
that in the papers.
Mike, Stillman and Mrs.
Desmond had a fight.
Suppose Mrs. Desmond
shot him, and Melanie saw it.
Suppose she's trying
to cover for her mother?
That's what we're
both supposing.
MEL: Well, the thing
is that I love my mother.
Well, I wouldn't want her to
get into any kind of trouble.
You know, I'll-I'll
be terribly discreet.
Now, you say Mr. Stillman
and your mom were, uh...
Lovers. Oh, yeah,
he was her latest.
You mean there were others?
Oh, sure.
Do you remember their names?
Melanie?
Melanie?
I don't regret
killing him at all.
Melanie!
- Oh, Mother.
- Who are you?
San Francisco Gazette, Mrs...
Get off the property!
Go ahead and go!
Go on, now. Stop it!
Are you out of your mind?
Ira told you not
to talk to anybody.
He's a lawyer, Mother.
He's supposed to say that.
What did you say to that woman?
The truth, the whole truth
and nothing but the truth.
Oh, sometimes I think
they must have gotten the
babies mixed up at the hospital
and given me the wrong one.
How could any child
of mine be so... so...?
Clumsy? Inept? Ungainly?
Oh, I've got it, Mother.
Discombobulated?
You're not funny.
And also, I'm not funny.
Melanie, stop it!
I'm sorry, baby.
I didn't mean to
be sharp with you.
It's just that... I know.
Oh, my gloves.
Have you seen my gloves?
No.
Oh, well.
Well, I'll be back
in about an hour.
You be a good girl and
don't talk to strangers.
(door closes)
Is he in?
He's expecting me.
Thank you.
MAN (on TV): officers on a point
overlooking the
Golden Gate Bridge.
The murder weapon
has not been found...
- Frank, I, uh...
- Shh, shh, shh. Listen to this.
MAN (on TV): Miss
Desmond, age 17,
has admitted
shooting the victim.
Miss Desmond has
since been released
into the custody of her mother,
well-known fashion
designer Julia Desmond,
pending further investigation.
According to the
coroner's office,
the victim, Jerome Stillman...
(Prince sighs)
Well.
How about that for wild?
Oh, it's more than wild, Ethan.
Think about it.
That story that she told
about what happened.
She even picked
out the right gun.
Now, how could she know that
unless she was there and saw it?
Okay, so she saw it.
But why the confession?
I don't know.
Maybe she has her own reasons.
Whatever those reasons are,
she could change
her mind any time.
And if she could
describe the gun,
she could describe
you and Manning.
I wouldn't like that.
You're reading my mind.
Mm.
So... let Manning handle it.
(sighs)
And he'll be involved
as deeply as we are.
Frank... what if he won't do it?
I told you before, he's
a potential witness.
(engine revving)
(Robbins sighs)
You're late!
Couldn't get it started.
Figures.
(Robbins chuckles)
(doorbell rings)
Oh, hi. My mother's not here.
It doesn't matter. We
wanted to see you.
Why?
Would you mind coming
downstairs for a minute?
No.
Do you recognize that car?
Yeah, it looks like Jerry's.
We want to go over
the incident step by step.
Would you like to
call your lawyer?
Why? He wasn't there
when it happened.
Just for your own protection.
That's okay. I trust you.
Then would you mind showing
us exactly what happened?
Yeah.
I waited by the car when
Jerry came out of the stairwell,
and, um... I stopped
him right about here.
We talked, and then...
then he grabbed me,
and I grabbed the gun,
it went off, and-and he fell.
How far from the car?
Right about here.
Now you mean to say that you
picked up an 180-pound man,
and you carried him
and put him in this car?
No. I remember now.
No, he staggered a few steps,
and then he-he fell
right against this door.
And you pushed
him in the car, right?
Got around, got
in and drove away.
Right.
Right. Okay, now,
the body's in the car.
Now why don't you show
us how you drove away?
(engine starting)
(engine revving)
(gears grinding)
(gears grinding)
(gears grinding)
(engine revving)
Just back it out.
(engine revving)
(gears grinding)
(engine revs)
Well, I know I did it.
What do you think, I'm lying?
That's right. We
think you're lying.
You've obviously never driven
a foreign stick shift before.
Well, I identified
the gun, didn't I?
How do you explain that?
We think you might have
seen it in the murderer's hand.
Who are you trying to protect?
Your mother?
- Come on.
- Where are you going?
Inside, to look for the gun.
Well, you can't go
in without a warrant.
♪♪
Where are we going?
Another collection.
Another murder?
(chuckles) You know,
I'll say one thing for you,
when you find a problem,
you sure don't know
how to let go of it.
Yeah, that's my cross.
You know, Kenneth...
Mr. Kyd's getting a
little worried about you.
- Is that a fact?
- Yeah, that's a fact.
He's not sure you, uh, have
what it takes to go the distance.
Look, I'll bust as many
bones as he wants,
but I'm damned
if I'll kill a man.
How about a woman?
♪♪
No gun anywhere.
STONE: Maybe I've got something.
JULIA: Well, what in the world!
What is going on here?
They had a warrant,
Mother; I couldn't stop them.
I want an explanation of
this, and I want it right now.
- Are these your gloves?
- How would I know?
They might be;
they look like mine.
What happened to them?
Apparently, someone
tried to destroy 'em.
Well, why? I-I don't understand.
We were hoping
you'd be able to tell us.
Do you seriously expect
me to explain something
that doesn't make
any sense at all?
Those are perfectly new gloves.
Why would anybody on earth
possible want to destroy them?
I could think of a
couple of reasons,
if I put my mind to it.
Like what?
Like bloodstains.
Like powder burns.
Maybe you'd better call
your attorney, Mrs. Desmond.
Now, you see, if we can
freeze the girl's confession,
then the police
have to accept it.
And all we have to do
is make it look like
an accident or suicide.
I don't like it.
Look, we all have to
do things we don't like.
Not me. Not murder.
Aw, come on, Kenneth.
No!
I don't want to
even talk about it.
You want somebody dead?
Then you do it.
I don't even want to hear it.
Okay.
Okay, look, if that's
the way you feel about it,
listen, I understand.
- (gunshot)
- (horn honks)
♪♪
(exhales)
(starts engine)
(panting)
(tires squealing)
(tires squealing)
♪♪
I'll tell you again.
I don't know how the
gloves got into the fireplace!
I didn't put them
there! Maybe Mel did.
- Why?
- I don't know!
What were you and Jerry
Stillman arguing about
the day he was killed?
Don't answer that, Julia.
I'm going to answer it.
What good has not
answering done?
He wanted to borrow some money.
I turned him down,
and he got mad.
How much money?
Fifty thousand dollars.
Did he tell you
why he needed it?
He said he lost a bet.
- To whom?
- How would I know?!
After your fight
in the office...
It wasn't a fight.
He slapped me; I wasn't
about to slap him back.
All right. After he left your
office, what did you do then?
I went home.
I didn't feel very well.
- Did you see him later?
- No.
Are you sure he wasn't waiting
for you outside your office?
She's already answered
your question, Lieutenant.
She said she didn't see him.
Bring her in.
Miss Desmond...
where did you go after
you left your mother's office?
Do I have to answer that?
I don't think so.
She's no longer a
suspect, Mr. Foster,
but she may be a witness,
and if she doesn't answer,
she could be charged
for withholding evidence.
Where did you go?
Out in the hall. I don't know.
Did you see Jerry Stillman
leave your mother's office?
I don't remember.
Did you see your
mother leave the office?
I don't remember.
Now, look here, young lady...
(crying): I'm not gonna say
anything against my mother,
and you can't make me!
I'm not gonna tell you anything!
- (Mel sobbing)
- (phone ringing)
Get that, Ira, please.
Is there anything else you'd
like to know, Lieutenant?
No, nothing else.
Am I under arrest?
No, you're not under arrest.
But please don't try to
make any plans to travel.
I wasn't planning any trips.
Julia.
We'll find our own
way out. Thank you.
That was your
ex-husband on the phone.
Hank?
His lawyers have been in contact
with the juvenile authorities,
and they've given him permission
to come here and
pick up Melanie.
He's on his way over now.
You know, Daniel...
we might be missing a bet.
We're so busy trying
to prove that she's lying
that we might have forgotten
that she could be
telling us the truth,
at least about part of it.
She still could've seen someone
kill Stillman on that rooftop.
Yeah, which leads us right
back to his gambling friends.
Take the car back to the garage.
I'll take these gloves into
the lab, have them analyzed.
(church bells chiming)
Want a bite?
I couldn't.
I shouldn't, either, but I
figure all I've been through,
I deserve all the
rewards I can get.
I think you're right.
You know, it's really
wonderful just being with you.
You don't make
me feel fat and ugly.
Does she?
Well, you know her; how
does she make you feel?
(chuckles) Grubby.
(laughs)
I've missed you, Mel, and
I've been worried about you.
Oh, don't be. I'm okay, really.
No, I don't mean just
since this Stillman mess.
I mean on a... a
day-to-day basis.
You see, I was never sure
you could take the pounding.
I was always afraid you might
be a little too much like me.
You're probably right.
I wanted to take you when
your mom and I first split up.
You did?
Uh-huh.
But... she loved you, too.
And besides, she had the clout.
Believe me, clout
isn't everything.
Oh-ho! Now you tell me.
Anyway... I'm ready
to make the move...
if you are.
You mean you want me
to come and live with you?
Mm-hmm.
Here is a key to the front door.
And I'll see you later.
- Daddy?
- Hm?
It's a big move, and, well,
there are a couple of loose ends
with Mother that... I
want to see tied up first,
so... can I put it
off for a little bit?
Oh, you take all
the time you need.
No, no, you keep them.
Just in case.
When you're finished,
we'll take a little walk.
- I'm finished.
- Are you?
(Mel laughs)
(starts engine)
(tires squeal)
- Honey, are you all right?
- Yeah.
Are you okay?
Crazy fool, he could've
killed both of us.
(panting): Probably
some hophead.
Come here.
The word I get is that Stillman
owed Frank Kyd over $50,000.
And he's no man to welsh on.
Then you know him.
I know him.
Well, a couple of his boys
were looking for
Stillman a few days ago.
Check on a guy named Manning.
Okay.
And where do I reach you?
You can't.
(chuckles)
Anything on the gloves?
No, no trace of
blood, no nothing.
Just a common, ordinary
pair of burnt gloves.
(sighs) All this has
got to lead somewhere.
Daniel... I have a feeling you
and I have been snookered.
I don't get it.
What's the point?
The point is that somebody's
trying to make us believe
that... Mrs. Desmond
is guilty of murder.
Mike, just got a phone call.
- Bernie wants you down at the morgue.
- Why?
'Cause he just brought
in another homicide...
Gunshot, and the bullet
was a nine-millimeter.
Good. Thank you.
Did Green say
Manning worked for Kyd?
No. There's got
to be a connection.
The gun that killed Manning
is the same gun
that killed Stillman.
- No witnesses in either case.
- Yeah, like an instant replay.
ROBBINS: Quite a coincidence...
Two guys involved in
underworld gambling
killed in the past 48 hours.
Sounds like a gang war going on.
Yeah, maybe we'd better ask Kyd.
(starts engine)
♪♪
Hi, Mom. I'm home.
In here.
Thanks, I've seen it.
Seen what?
The story of my life.
My very private life.
Makes interesting
reading, doesn't it, Mother?
It's ugly and vicious...
and humiliating.
Well, you'd know more
about it than I would...
It's your private life.
Melanie...
Well, I must admit,
the reporter did take
a certain amount
of literary license.
What on earth possessed
you to tell her all those things?
Warts... and wens...
and bad complexion.
I'm just naturally ugly, Mother.
And you pointed that out to
me on every opportunity, Mother.
You've always told me
it was for my own good.
A person should be
made aware of their faults
and flaws and shortcomings.
But we're all ugly, Mother,
in one way or another.
In your case, it
just doesn't show.
It's... it's way down deep,
underneath all those clothes
and cosmetics and nail polish.
Jerry Stillman was a
wart, Steve Bianco a pimple
and... and Dave
what's-his-name bad complexion.
They're your faults and flaws
and shortcomings, Mother,
and you're gonna have to
deal with them sooner or later,
or you're gonna end up clumsy
and ugly and lumpish, like me.
Why the newspapers?
Why make it so public?
You've always
corrected me in public,
in front of... customers
and friends and strangers.
You really are very
insensitive, Mother.
You burned those
gloves, didn't you?
Yes.
And called the reporter.
This whole thing was a
way to get even with me.
That's right, Mother.
You realize that I
could be sent to jail?
I wouldn't go that far.
You see, because I can
stop it anytime I want to.
Because I know
who really did it.
Two men.
One of them was just your type.
35, dark hair, hard eyes,
had a scar down his left cheek.
Oh, you would've loved him.
He was just your type.
- Mr. Kyd?
- Yes?
San Francisco Police.
Oh, certainly.
Should've recognized
you by the feet. (chuckles)
That's a little humor there.
What can I do for you?
Well, you can start by telling
us why Ken Manning was killed.
Manning killed?
Oh, I'm sorry to
hear about that.
Ken worked for me, you know.
Oh, I'm heartsick about that.
And how heartsick are
you about Jerry Stillman?
Oh, I knew Jerry, but
we were never very close.
- Did Jerry owe you any money when he died?
- Money? No.
- Never welshed on a bet?
- I don't bet.
And I don't understand
what Jerry Stillman's got to do
with any of this anyway.
You have his
murderer, don't you?
We thought we had,
until Manning was killed.
What's the connection?
Well, the same weapon
killed both victims.
Our suspect could
have killed Stillman,
but, um... she had an
ironclad alibi about Manning.
So do I.
You do? Now, that's funny.
I didn't mention the
time of death, did I?
No.
I didn't mention the
time of death to you.
Doesn't matter; I've
been at my office all day.
Didn't even leave for lunch.
You can ask my secretary.
You can count on it, Mr. Kyd.
JULIA: Mel... Goodbye, Mother.
Where are you going?
To my father's.
(engine starts)
♪♪
(phone ringing)
ROBBINS: I got
just the thing for you.
- Yeah, what is it?
- Nice red clover tea.
(chuckles): No,
thanks, not for me.
Homicide, Stone.
Lieutenant?
Oh, this is Julia Desmond.
Oh, hello, Mrs. Desmond.
I-It's about Melanie.
She-she lied.
The whole thing was a lie.
She saw the murder.
She was a witness.
Yeah, we know.
Then why didn't
you do something?
Well, we thought she
was lying to protect you.
It wasn't me; it...
it was two men.
One was about 35, dark,
with a scar down his left cheek.
And what about the other man?
She-she didn't say.
Well, could I talk
to her, please?
She's gone. She
isn't here anymore.
- Where did she go?
- Her father's.
Could I have his address?
2310 Division Street.
2-3-1-0 Division Street.
Thank you very much.
Thank you, Lieutenant.
I alerted Records. They're
running the description
- through the computer right now.
- All right,
we'll pick it up on the
way to the car. Come on.
♪♪
♪♪
Daddy, are you home?
John Woodall, 37, slight
scar on the left cheek.
Armed robbery...
county jail, awaiting
trial; let's him out.
George Spelvin, 33.
Scars and other
distinguishing marks...
Bullet hole in left cheek.
Doing five to ten
in Chino; forget him.
Prince. Ethan Prince.
Record of simple assault,
assault and battery, bookmaking,
loan sharking,
deep scar left cheek.
- Bookmaking, loan sharking.
- And strong-arm man.
Stillman owed Kyd money.
Maybe Prince
was sent to collect.
Pretty good for a guess.
Dad, are you here?
(gasps)
(panting)
(Mel panting)
(sobbing)
(crying)
(sobbing)
(screams)
(Mel screaming)
(screaming)
(muffled screaming)
Police! Freeze!
(gunshots)
(Mel panting, gasping)
(Robbins grunts)
- I got you. Take it easy.
- (sobbing)
It's okay. It's okay.
(continues sobbing)
♪♪
(siren wailing)
I'm sorry, but you're
gonna have to come down
to Bryant Street
Station in the morning.
That's where I'll
take your statement.
I should've told you the
truth from the beginning.
Would've saved us
all a lot trouble, Mel.
I guess I had to learn
things the hard way.
Most people do.
Oh, Melanie!
Oh, my baby, are you all right?
Yes, Mother, I'm fine.
You keep forgetting, Julia,
she's not a baby anymore.
That's okay, Dad.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mother.
I wish I could undo everything
and start all over
again, but I'm...
I feel the same way.
Uh, well, uh,
good-bye, everybody.
DESMOND: Good night, and thank you.
- Good-bye.
Good night.
ROBBINS: Why is it everybody
has to learn the hard way?
STONE: Oh, I guess most
children are naturally hardheaded.
ROBBINS: I wasn't
talking about children;
I was talking about parents.
Well, did it ever occur
to you that parents
might know what
is best for children?
(chuckles) Look,
all I'm saying is,
being young doesn't
always make you wrong.
And being older doesn't
always make you right.
You know, you're right.
Even though you are young.
Eh. Come on, I
want to talk to Kyd.
♪♪
- Oh, hi, Virginia.
- Hi.
Is my mom here?
She'll be back in a minute.
But there's someone
waiting for her in the office.
Oh, who, the guy who wears
the greasy kid stuff on his head?
This is the one that
smiles all the time.
Oh, him.
Hello, Mel. What
are you doing here?
Hi, Mother.
You said we were
gonna have lunch today.
Did you have to wear that dress?
It makes you look like a lump.
Mr. Stillman's
waiting in your office.
Oh, all right. I can't have
lunch today, dumpling,
but I can tomorrow.
Mother, don't call me dumpling.
Why don't you do
something about your hair.
What do you suggest?
What's on your mind, Jerry?
Mmm.
You.
Not the way you
kissed me just now.
Well, if I thought you
were gonna grade me,
I'd give you a great big hug.
(quiet chuckle) Well, that
would rate you about a C-plus.
So, what else is on your mind?
I'm in... I'm in trouble, baby.
Somebody into your
book for a big score?
No. I'm in someone else's
book for some heavy action.
You're a bookie, Jerry!
You shouldn't be
playing the horses.
But it was a sure thing in the
fifth race at Hollywood Park.
He was six lengths ahead
going into the stretch,
and he fell down.
He fell down!
Jockey's still in the hospital.
If I don't pay up...
I could be in the next bed.
Are you asking me
for money, Jerry?
Aw, hey, baby... (chuckles)
When you need something,
who do you go to?
- Your friends, right?
- Mm.
Well, you'd better
go to your friends,
because I wouldn't
give you five cents.
(exhales)
Well, it's not
five cents, honey.
- It's $50,000.
- Oh.
- Oh, but not all at once.
- Mm-mm.
$25,000 to start.
Well... you tell me what
hospital, and I'll send flowers.
(gasps)
Julia... I'll be by your
place tonight to pick it up.
(gasps)
Mother!
Get out!
Get out! Get out!
Well, that last kiss, uh...
ought to bring up my
average to at least a B-plus.
(low groan)
See you.
MAN: Jerry.
- (chuckling)
- Hey, Prince. How you doing?
Fine, fine.
I was just gonna call you.
Yeah, well if you
hurry, you'll be late.
We've been looking all
over for you, for weeks.
Well, you just
haven't been looking
in the right place,
now, have you?
Well, you see, your
bill's overdue, Jerry.
We're gonna have
to have a little talk.
You understand.
Look, you're gonna
get your money.
Just tell Kyd that, uh...
it's in the works.
Wait. We're not quite
through with you yet.
Well, you see,
now, he knows that.
He just thought it
might help if we, uh,
gave you a little incentive.
(grunting)
(gunshot)
He's-he's dead.
Yeah, look, get his keys.
You help me get him in
my car, and you follow in his.
Come on.
Hey, look, Ethan...
Hey, you look... just do it.
♪♪
Now, how long has he been dead?
Oh, rigor's well advanced.
Considering the state
of the weather, oh...
14 to 16 hours.
Anything else?
Nothing you didn't
see for yourself.
He was shot in the
chest, at very close range,
judging by the powder burns.
Okay!
You say you knew him?
Yeah, Stillman, Jerome Stillman.
He used to run an
independent book
over at the Old Imperial Hotel.
Remember that one? (chuckles)
Very quick to collect,
but very slow to pay.
Sounds as though you
won't lack for suspects.
That's right.
- Well, what do you got?
- ROBBINS: No cartridge case.
There's a well-defined tire
track at the edge of the road.
You want a mold?
(laughs): Okay, I'll get a mold.
(chuckles)
(turns off engine)
(horses galloping)
Whoa. Whoa.
Well, don't
everybody talk at once.
Well, things just
got out of hand.
We had no choice.
(heavy sigh)
(sighs) He owed me
a lot of money, Ethan.
(sighs) How am I gonna
collect it from him now?
(chuckles) Hire a medium?
Look, I didn't mean
for it to happen, Frank.
It was an accident.
Is that right?
- Yeah, I guess so.
- What's the matter with you?
Well, I don't like it, Mr. Kyd.
I was hired to collect,
not to go around...
You don't like it?
I don't like it.
Nobody likes it.
But the next time I send
you somewhere to collect,
it'll be a lot easier.
This kind of thing gets around.
People like to stay
healthy, so they pay up.
Can I go now?
Go.
(Prince sighs)
I worry about him.
Eh, he's an accessory.
He's a witness.
And he's nervous.
Yeah?
Where?
All right, Mr. Green, I'll
be there in ten minutes.
ROBBINS: You got a meeting?
Yep. With a man who
might have something
to gain by talking to us.
Who's that?
One of Stillman's competitors.
I got the ballistics
report on the slug.
It's from a nine-millimeter
automatic, octagon rifling.
Good. Come on.
♪♪
You said ten
minutes. It's been 15.
Tell your friend
to take it easy.
You said you had
something on Stillman.
His girlfriend.
He worked her
over the other day.
He wasn't scratched
to death, Mr. Green,
he was shot to death
by a professional.
So she has enough
money to buy him a funeral.
You got a name?
Julia Desmond.
That's a name even I recognize.
What about his book?
Did he owe anybody?
Everybody.
If I find anyone...
in particular...
I'll let you know.
Thanks.
(door opens)
(door closes)
- I'll take these three for now.
- That's fine, Virginia.
(Julia clears throat)
MEL: Hey, Virginia.
- Mother?
- Oh, if you came to have lunch,
I can't make it today, dumpling.
That's not why I'm here.
It wouldn't hurt your figure
to skip a few lunches, anyway.
I wanted to talk to you
about Jerry Stillman.
Now, listen, that is
none of your business.
But, Mother...
It's my private life and
none of your business,
so stay out of it.
I thought I was part
of your private life, too.
Oh, don't play word
games with me, dumpling.
You know what I mean.
Mother, please don't
call me dumpling.
But that's what you
remind me of, darling.
All soft and shapeless
like a dumpling.
Look at that hair.
Call Mr. Joseph today and see
if he can't do something about it.
Will you get off my back?!
You ride me like a broom!
STONE: Mrs. Desmond,
I'm Lieutenant Stone,
and this is Inspector Robbins.
Could we talk to you, please?
Oh. Excuse me. This
is my daughter Melanie.
Hello.
Why don't we talk in my office?
I know, Mother. It's
personal business.
I'll wait here.
(indistinct crowd chatter)
(door opening)
(whirring)
JULIA: What can I do for you?
Mrs. Desmond, are you acquainted
with a man named Jerry Stillman?
Yes. Well.
You know, we met
at parties and things.
I, uh, heard about his
murder on the radio.
Terrible thing.
STONE: You knew
him socially then?
Socially, yes.
Thank you.
And no better than that?
I don't understand.
Were you lovers?
Do I have to answer
these questions?
No. We can go
down to the station,
and you can call your lawyer.
You know that he
had mob connections?
Jerry and I weren't in
business. We were...
- Close friends.
- Close friends.
Look, how much of this
will get into the record?
I don't want the newspapers
to get a hold of it because,
well, I don't particularly like
to be humiliated in public.
ROBBINS: We'll see to it that
it's kept as quiet as possible.
Did you ever have
a fight with him?
Of course. Every now and again.
I mean recently.
She didn't do it.
Melanie!
It was me, not her.
I did it.
STONE: You did what?
I murdered Jerry Stillman.
All right, Miss Desmond.
Why don't you call me Mel?
And why don't you
start at the beginning
and tell me everything
that happened?
Okay.
I heard my mother scream,
and I entered the office.
Jerry was clutching
her by her dress.
The blue-green original,
wasn't it, Mother?
Melanie, will you stop this?
I know what I'm doing, Mother.
I waited by Jerry's car
upstairs, and when he came up,
I told him if he
didn't stay away
from my mother, I'd kill him.
Lieutenant, I
must object to this.
MEL: It's all right,
Mr. Foster. They can't
do anything to me
anyway. I'm a juvenile.
Melanie!
You don't know
what you're saying.
Do I have to remain silent
because he tells me to?
- No.
- Then I wish you'd just stay out of this.
Anyway, Jerry reached out
to push me out of his way,
and I kicked him.
He grabbed me by the shoulders,
and he started shaking me.
I reached out to grab him,
and he had a gun under his coat.
I grabbed it, and it went off.
How close were you to
the gun when it went off?
Right up against him.
Did you see the kind it was?
Uh, no. It was just a gun.
Did you get a good look at it?
Yeah, afterwards.
Could you recognize
it if you saw it again?
Sure.
And what did you do then?
I put the body in the car,
and I drove it
down by that cliff.
And, um...
Oh, I remember.
Then I walked home.
You walked home?
And what did you
do with the gun?
Threw it over the cliff.
Mm. Come along with me.
Uh, uh. Lieutenant...
Just routine.
Come along.
Now... I want you
to point out the one
that most resembles the
gun that you used, okay?
Now, really, Lieutenant.
Okay.
It's this one.
What is it?
Nine millimeter automatic.
The type that killed Stillman.
Ira?
It's all right.
I'll have a writ ten
minutes after she's booked.
She'll be released
in your custody.
As the Lieutenant
says, just routine.
Do you own a gun like
that, Mrs. Desmond?
No, I don't have any gun.
What about your husband?
We're divorced.
We don't even live together.
Daniel... take her downstairs.
Don't worry, Mother.
Everything's going
to be just fine.
Let's go.
Well, she's out.
Released to her mother.
(Robbins sighs)
You find the gun?
No, not yet.
Somehow I'm not surprised.
Neither am I.
What's troubling you?
Same thing that's
bugging you... Her story.
It's all too easy, too pat.
She did point out
that gun, though.
Blood on the roof,
nine millimeter cartridge.
She didn't read all
that in the papers.
Mike, Stillman and Mrs.
Desmond had a fight.
Suppose Mrs. Desmond
shot him, and Melanie saw it.
Suppose she's trying
to cover for her mother?
That's what we're
both supposing.
MEL: Well, the thing
is that I love my mother.
Well, I wouldn't want her to
get into any kind of trouble.
You know, I'll-I'll
be terribly discreet.
Now, you say Mr. Stillman
and your mom were, uh...
Lovers. Oh, yeah,
he was her latest.
You mean there were others?
Oh, sure.
Do you remember their names?
Melanie?
Melanie?
I don't regret
killing him at all.
Melanie!
- Oh, Mother.
- Who are you?
San Francisco Gazette, Mrs...
Get off the property!
Go ahead and go!
Go on, now. Stop it!
Are you out of your mind?
Ira told you not
to talk to anybody.
He's a lawyer, Mother.
He's supposed to say that.
What did you say to that woman?
The truth, the whole truth
and nothing but the truth.
Oh, sometimes I think
they must have gotten the
babies mixed up at the hospital
and given me the wrong one.
How could any child
of mine be so... so...?
Clumsy? Inept? Ungainly?
Oh, I've got it, Mother.
Discombobulated?
You're not funny.
And also, I'm not funny.
Melanie, stop it!
I'm sorry, baby.
I didn't mean to
be sharp with you.
It's just that... I know.
Oh, my gloves.
Have you seen my gloves?
No.
Oh, well.
Well, I'll be back
in about an hour.
You be a good girl and
don't talk to strangers.
(door closes)
Is he in?
He's expecting me.
Thank you.
MAN (on TV): officers on a point
overlooking the
Golden Gate Bridge.
The murder weapon
has not been found...
- Frank, I, uh...
- Shh, shh, shh. Listen to this.
MAN (on TV): Miss
Desmond, age 17,
has admitted
shooting the victim.
Miss Desmond has
since been released
into the custody of her mother,
well-known fashion
designer Julia Desmond,
pending further investigation.
According to the
coroner's office,
the victim, Jerome Stillman...
(Prince sighs)
Well.
How about that for wild?
Oh, it's more than wild, Ethan.
Think about it.
That story that she told
about what happened.
She even picked
out the right gun.
Now, how could she know that
unless she was there and saw it?
Okay, so she saw it.
But why the confession?
I don't know.
Maybe she has her own reasons.
Whatever those reasons are,
she could change
her mind any time.
And if she could
describe the gun,
she could describe
you and Manning.
I wouldn't like that.
You're reading my mind.
Mm.
So... let Manning handle it.
(sighs)
And he'll be involved
as deeply as we are.
Frank... what if he won't do it?
I told you before, he's
a potential witness.
(engine revving)
(Robbins sighs)
You're late!
Couldn't get it started.
Figures.
(Robbins chuckles)
(doorbell rings)
Oh, hi. My mother's not here.
It doesn't matter. We
wanted to see you.
Why?
Would you mind coming
downstairs for a minute?
No.
Do you recognize that car?
Yeah, it looks like Jerry's.
We want to go over
the incident step by step.
Would you like to
call your lawyer?
Why? He wasn't there
when it happened.
Just for your own protection.
That's okay. I trust you.
Then would you mind showing
us exactly what happened?
Yeah.
I waited by the car when
Jerry came out of the stairwell,
and, um... I stopped
him right about here.
We talked, and then...
then he grabbed me,
and I grabbed the gun,
it went off, and-and he fell.
How far from the car?
Right about here.
Now you mean to say that you
picked up an 180-pound man,
and you carried him
and put him in this car?
No. I remember now.
No, he staggered a few steps,
and then he-he fell
right against this door.
And you pushed
him in the car, right?
Got around, got
in and drove away.
Right.
Right. Okay, now,
the body's in the car.
Now why don't you show
us how you drove away?
(engine starting)
(engine revving)
(gears grinding)
(gears grinding)
(gears grinding)
(engine revving)
Just back it out.
(engine revving)
(gears grinding)
(engine revs)
Well, I know I did it.
What do you think, I'm lying?
That's right. We
think you're lying.
You've obviously never driven
a foreign stick shift before.
Well, I identified
the gun, didn't I?
How do you explain that?
We think you might have
seen it in the murderer's hand.
Who are you trying to protect?
Your mother?
- Come on.
- Where are you going?
Inside, to look for the gun.
Well, you can't go
in without a warrant.
♪♪
Where are we going?
Another collection.
Another murder?
(chuckles) You know,
I'll say one thing for you,
when you find a problem,
you sure don't know
how to let go of it.
Yeah, that's my cross.
You know, Kenneth...
Mr. Kyd's getting a
little worried about you.
- Is that a fact?
- Yeah, that's a fact.
He's not sure you, uh, have
what it takes to go the distance.
Look, I'll bust as many
bones as he wants,
but I'm damned
if I'll kill a man.
How about a woman?
♪♪
No gun anywhere.
STONE: Maybe I've got something.
JULIA: Well, what in the world!
What is going on here?
They had a warrant,
Mother; I couldn't stop them.
I want an explanation of
this, and I want it right now.
- Are these your gloves?
- How would I know?
They might be;
they look like mine.
What happened to them?
Apparently, someone
tried to destroy 'em.
Well, why? I-I don't understand.
We were hoping
you'd be able to tell us.
Do you seriously expect
me to explain something
that doesn't make
any sense at all?
Those are perfectly new gloves.
Why would anybody on earth
possible want to destroy them?
I could think of a
couple of reasons,
if I put my mind to it.
Like what?
Like bloodstains.
Like powder burns.
Maybe you'd better call
your attorney, Mrs. Desmond.
Now, you see, if we can
freeze the girl's confession,
then the police
have to accept it.
And all we have to do
is make it look like
an accident or suicide.
I don't like it.
Look, we all have to
do things we don't like.
Not me. Not murder.
Aw, come on, Kenneth.
No!
I don't want to
even talk about it.
You want somebody dead?
Then you do it.
I don't even want to hear it.
Okay.
Okay, look, if that's
the way you feel about it,
listen, I understand.
- (gunshot)
- (horn honks)
♪♪
(exhales)
(starts engine)
(panting)
(tires squealing)
(tires squealing)
♪♪
I'll tell you again.
I don't know how the
gloves got into the fireplace!
I didn't put them
there! Maybe Mel did.
- Why?
- I don't know!
What were you and Jerry
Stillman arguing about
the day he was killed?
Don't answer that, Julia.
I'm going to answer it.
What good has not
answering done?
He wanted to borrow some money.
I turned him down,
and he got mad.
How much money?
Fifty thousand dollars.
Did he tell you
why he needed it?
He said he lost a bet.
- To whom?
- How would I know?!
After your fight
in the office...
It wasn't a fight.
He slapped me; I wasn't
about to slap him back.
All right. After he left your
office, what did you do then?
I went home.
I didn't feel very well.
- Did you see him later?
- No.
Are you sure he wasn't waiting
for you outside your office?
She's already answered
your question, Lieutenant.
She said she didn't see him.
Bring her in.
Miss Desmond...
where did you go after
you left your mother's office?
Do I have to answer that?
I don't think so.
She's no longer a
suspect, Mr. Foster,
but she may be a witness,
and if she doesn't answer,
she could be charged
for withholding evidence.
Where did you go?
Out in the hall. I don't know.
Did you see Jerry Stillman
leave your mother's office?
I don't remember.
Did you see your
mother leave the office?
I don't remember.
Now, look here, young lady...
(crying): I'm not gonna say
anything against my mother,
and you can't make me!
I'm not gonna tell you anything!
- (Mel sobbing)
- (phone ringing)
Get that, Ira, please.
Is there anything else you'd
like to know, Lieutenant?
No, nothing else.
Am I under arrest?
No, you're not under arrest.
But please don't try to
make any plans to travel.
I wasn't planning any trips.
Julia.
We'll find our own
way out. Thank you.
That was your
ex-husband on the phone.
Hank?
His lawyers have been in contact
with the juvenile authorities,
and they've given him permission
to come here and
pick up Melanie.
He's on his way over now.
You know, Daniel...
we might be missing a bet.
We're so busy trying
to prove that she's lying
that we might have forgotten
that she could be
telling us the truth,
at least about part of it.
She still could've seen someone
kill Stillman on that rooftop.
Yeah, which leads us right
back to his gambling friends.
Take the car back to the garage.
I'll take these gloves into
the lab, have them analyzed.
(church bells chiming)
Want a bite?
I couldn't.
I shouldn't, either, but I
figure all I've been through,
I deserve all the
rewards I can get.
I think you're right.
You know, it's really
wonderful just being with you.
You don't make
me feel fat and ugly.
Does she?
Well, you know her; how
does she make you feel?
(chuckles) Grubby.
(laughs)
I've missed you, Mel, and
I've been worried about you.
Oh, don't be. I'm okay, really.
No, I don't mean just
since this Stillman mess.
I mean on a... a
day-to-day basis.
You see, I was never sure
you could take the pounding.
I was always afraid you might
be a little too much like me.
You're probably right.
I wanted to take you when
your mom and I first split up.
You did?
Uh-huh.
But... she loved you, too.
And besides, she had the clout.
Believe me, clout
isn't everything.
Oh-ho! Now you tell me.
Anyway... I'm ready
to make the move...
if you are.
You mean you want me
to come and live with you?
Mm-hmm.
Here is a key to the front door.
And I'll see you later.
- Daddy?
- Hm?
It's a big move, and, well,
there are a couple of loose ends
with Mother that... I
want to see tied up first,
so... can I put it
off for a little bit?
Oh, you take all
the time you need.
No, no, you keep them.
Just in case.
When you're finished,
we'll take a little walk.
- I'm finished.
- Are you?
(Mel laughs)
(starts engine)
(tires squeal)
- Honey, are you all right?
- Yeah.
Are you okay?
Crazy fool, he could've
killed both of us.
(panting): Probably
some hophead.
Come here.
The word I get is that Stillman
owed Frank Kyd over $50,000.
And he's no man to welsh on.
Then you know him.
I know him.
Well, a couple of his boys
were looking for
Stillman a few days ago.
Check on a guy named Manning.
Okay.
And where do I reach you?
You can't.
(chuckles)
Anything on the gloves?
No, no trace of
blood, no nothing.
Just a common, ordinary
pair of burnt gloves.
(sighs) All this has
got to lead somewhere.
Daniel... I have a feeling you
and I have been snookered.
I don't get it.
What's the point?
The point is that somebody's
trying to make us believe
that... Mrs. Desmond
is guilty of murder.
Mike, just got a phone call.
- Bernie wants you down at the morgue.
- Why?
'Cause he just brought
in another homicide...
Gunshot, and the bullet
was a nine-millimeter.
Good. Thank you.
Did Green say
Manning worked for Kyd?
No. There's got
to be a connection.
The gun that killed Manning
is the same gun
that killed Stillman.
- No witnesses in either case.
- Yeah, like an instant replay.
ROBBINS: Quite a coincidence...
Two guys involved in
underworld gambling
killed in the past 48 hours.
Sounds like a gang war going on.
Yeah, maybe we'd better ask Kyd.
(starts engine)
♪♪
Hi, Mom. I'm home.
In here.
Thanks, I've seen it.
Seen what?
The story of my life.
My very private life.
Makes interesting
reading, doesn't it, Mother?
It's ugly and vicious...
and humiliating.
Well, you'd know more
about it than I would...
It's your private life.
Melanie...
Well, I must admit,
the reporter did take
a certain amount
of literary license.
What on earth possessed
you to tell her all those things?
Warts... and wens...
and bad complexion.
I'm just naturally ugly, Mother.
And you pointed that out to
me on every opportunity, Mother.
You've always told me
it was for my own good.
A person should be
made aware of their faults
and flaws and shortcomings.
But we're all ugly, Mother,
in one way or another.
In your case, it
just doesn't show.
It's... it's way down deep,
underneath all those clothes
and cosmetics and nail polish.
Jerry Stillman was a
wart, Steve Bianco a pimple
and... and Dave
what's-his-name bad complexion.
They're your faults and flaws
and shortcomings, Mother,
and you're gonna have to
deal with them sooner or later,
or you're gonna end up clumsy
and ugly and lumpish, like me.
Why the newspapers?
Why make it so public?
You've always
corrected me in public,
in front of... customers
and friends and strangers.
You really are very
insensitive, Mother.
You burned those
gloves, didn't you?
Yes.
And called the reporter.
This whole thing was a
way to get even with me.
That's right, Mother.
You realize that I
could be sent to jail?
I wouldn't go that far.
You see, because I can
stop it anytime I want to.
Because I know
who really did it.
Two men.
One of them was just your type.
35, dark hair, hard eyes,
had a scar down his left cheek.
Oh, you would've loved him.
He was just your type.
- Mr. Kyd?
- Yes?
San Francisco Police.
Oh, certainly.
Should've recognized
you by the feet. (chuckles)
That's a little humor there.
What can I do for you?
Well, you can start by telling
us why Ken Manning was killed.
Manning killed?
Oh, I'm sorry to
hear about that.
Ken worked for me, you know.
Oh, I'm heartsick about that.
And how heartsick are
you about Jerry Stillman?
Oh, I knew Jerry, but
we were never very close.
- Did Jerry owe you any money when he died?
- Money? No.
- Never welshed on a bet?
- I don't bet.
And I don't understand
what Jerry Stillman's got to do
with any of this anyway.
You have his
murderer, don't you?
We thought we had,
until Manning was killed.
What's the connection?
Well, the same weapon
killed both victims.
Our suspect could
have killed Stillman,
but, um... she had an
ironclad alibi about Manning.
So do I.
You do? Now, that's funny.
I didn't mention the
time of death, did I?
No.
I didn't mention the
time of death to you.
Doesn't matter; I've
been at my office all day.
Didn't even leave for lunch.
You can ask my secretary.
You can count on it, Mr. Kyd.
JULIA: Mel... Goodbye, Mother.
Where are you going?
To my father's.
(engine starts)
♪♪
(phone ringing)
ROBBINS: I got
just the thing for you.
- Yeah, what is it?
- Nice red clover tea.
(chuckles): No,
thanks, not for me.
Homicide, Stone.
Lieutenant?
Oh, this is Julia Desmond.
Oh, hello, Mrs. Desmond.
I-It's about Melanie.
She-she lied.
The whole thing was a lie.
She saw the murder.
She was a witness.
Yeah, we know.
Then why didn't
you do something?
Well, we thought she
was lying to protect you.
It wasn't me; it...
it was two men.
One was about 35, dark,
with a scar down his left cheek.
And what about the other man?
She-she didn't say.
Well, could I talk
to her, please?
She's gone. She
isn't here anymore.
- Where did she go?
- Her father's.
Could I have his address?
2310 Division Street.
2-3-1-0 Division Street.
Thank you very much.
Thank you, Lieutenant.
I alerted Records. They're
running the description
- through the computer right now.
- All right,
we'll pick it up on the
way to the car. Come on.
♪♪
♪♪
Daddy, are you home?
John Woodall, 37, slight
scar on the left cheek.
Armed robbery...
county jail, awaiting
trial; let's him out.
George Spelvin, 33.
Scars and other
distinguishing marks...
Bullet hole in left cheek.
Doing five to ten
in Chino; forget him.
Prince. Ethan Prince.
Record of simple assault,
assault and battery, bookmaking,
loan sharking,
deep scar left cheek.
- Bookmaking, loan sharking.
- And strong-arm man.
Stillman owed Kyd money.
Maybe Prince
was sent to collect.
Pretty good for a guess.
Dad, are you here?
(gasps)
(panting)
(Mel panting)
(sobbing)
(crying)
(sobbing)
(screams)
(Mel screaming)
(screaming)
(muffled screaming)
Police! Freeze!
(gunshots)
(Mel panting, gasping)
(Robbins grunts)
- I got you. Take it easy.
- (sobbing)
It's okay. It's okay.
(continues sobbing)
♪♪
(siren wailing)
I'm sorry, but you're
gonna have to come down
to Bryant Street
Station in the morning.
That's where I'll
take your statement.
I should've told you the
truth from the beginning.
Would've saved us
all a lot trouble, Mel.
I guess I had to learn
things the hard way.
Most people do.
Oh, Melanie!
Oh, my baby, are you all right?
Yes, Mother, I'm fine.
You keep forgetting, Julia,
she's not a baby anymore.
That's okay, Dad.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mother.
I wish I could undo everything
and start all over
again, but I'm...
I feel the same way.
Uh, well, uh,
good-bye, everybody.
DESMOND: Good night, and thank you.
- Good-bye.
Good night.
ROBBINS: Why is it everybody
has to learn the hard way?
STONE: Oh, I guess most
children are naturally hardheaded.
ROBBINS: I wasn't
talking about children;
I was talking about parents.
Well, did it ever occur
to you that parents
might know what
is best for children?
(chuckles) Look,
all I'm saying is,
being young doesn't
always make you wrong.
And being older doesn't
always make you right.
You know, you're right.
Even though you are young.
Eh. Come on, I
want to talk to Kyd.