[cheerful orchestral music]
[Preston] Is this what you improvise out of odds and ends?
[Jessica] Well, with a little help from Louise McCallum.
And, before you ask, I'm Cinderella's godmother.
Care to make a wish?
I could use a dozen more novels by J.B. Fletcher.
Oh. That's not magic. That's just hard work.
Suppose I just settle for the pleasure of her company.
[Peter] Hey, look here.
[Peter] If it ain't Sherlock Holmes himself.
Fine, darling. I'll, I'll just trod along like a civilized wife and...
... let you and Ashley do whatever it is you do. Excuse me.
Once more, what are you doing here?
[Dexter] I have been retained by a very influential individual
to conduct a discreet investigation.
With Dexter Baxendale, discretion is a way of life.
[screaming]
-What's the matter? -In the pool!
In the pool!
[Jim] Yeah, Madge. The name's Caleb McCallum.
You know, that seafood guy.
Of course, that's unofficial.
The chief won't let the wife identify. It's just as well,
the guy got his face blown off with a 12-gauge.
[chief] I'm looking for motive.
Half the country had reason to kill him.
[Ashley] The captain wasn't particularly well loved.
Though I doubt that any of us despised him enough to kill him.
Except for me.
What are you telling me?
The guy in the pool wasn't McCallum?
[Caleb] Sure as hell wasn't.
Well, Mr. McCallum, suppose you tell us who the corpse
was in the pool, and how come he was wearing your costume.
[Caleb] Baxendale.
I hired the man.
He's working for me.
All right. I'm having some trouble in my, uhm...
in my business. Some little problems.
And somebody is leaking out confidential information.
So I hired Baxendale to find out who it was.
You're investigating the murder of a private detective.
Now, suppose the killer didn't know that it was Mr. Baxendale.
Suppose the killer thought it was Captain Caleb.
At 6:00 this morning, we found that detective's car
parked about a half mile from Giles's place.
In the glove compartment, we found a confidential
real estate report that McCallum tells us is worth
300,000 or 400,000 dollars in the wrong hands.
And it was stolen from his office
early Friday morning.
And you assume that Grady is the thief?
I never saw that report before or that detective.
[Preston] Well, the way the police figured,
Baxendale got the goods on Grady,
and came back to the party to confront him.
Probably to extort a payoff.
They think that Grady lost his temper
and shot him with a skeet gun.
[Preston] Please don't worry.
Karl Teretsky is one of the state's best trial lawyers.
Do you really think it'll come to that, a trial?
No, of course not.
Jess, you have my word.
Grady will be exonerated one way or the other.
I'm sorry, I think the police
have already made up their minds.
Kitt tells me she caught up with you at the railway station.
I was going to call you.
From Maine.
I feel a little foolish.
This weekend...
before the trouble...
was one of the happiest times I've spent in years.
Did I misread you so badly?
Of course not.
But back home we have a saying:
Flowers that bloom too quickly
are fair game for a late frost.
Do you really say that?
Actually, no.
You'll be going back then?
Well, not until I know that Grady's all right.
[tires screeches]
Driver, take the lady to her hotel.
[driver] Sure thing, Mac.
How about dinner tonight?
Well, there's a lot to do.
And you do have to eat.
I'd love to.
I'll call you later.
Uh, driver, do you know a place called, uh...
Where was it? I had it here someplace.
h, it was Bay View? Bay Town?
We got a Bay Ridge, lady. That's in Brooklyn.
Over in Jersey, you got your Bayonne.
Now, out on the island, you got your Bay Shore, your Bayville,
-your Bayside-- -Bayside. That's it.
Bayside. Bayside yacht club. Would you mind driving me there?
Hello!
Captain Caleb.
Mrs. Fletcher.
[grunts]
[clears his throat]
[sighs] Well, well, well.
-What a delight. -Well, I called your office.
I... They told me I'd find you here. I hope you don't mind.
Oh, not a bit. Come right aboard.
To what do I owe this great pleasure?
Well, I assume you know that they've arrested my nephew.
Yes. Well, uh... The evidence is conclusive.
Evidence?
[Jessica] You've been talking to Chief Gunderson.
Gunderson is an incompetent fool.
I'm trying to get hit five to six months.
Strange. I found him very diligent.
Well, he's a political hack, Mrs. Fletcher.
Putting in his time until he gets his pension.
However, in this case, I think he does have his facts correct.
What facts are those?
Well, I told you, someone in my organization
has been stealing information.
This information is about
proposed sites for my chowder houses.
[Caleb] These leaks have cost me a great deal of money.
Baxendale narrowed the list of suspects down to six.
And at his suggestion, I made those six people -
and only those six -
aware of a confidential report that I'd received.
[Caleb] The report was a phony, of course.
I also let it be known
that I'd be acting on that information on Monday.
Oh, I see. You, uh...
forcing your traitor to act quickly.
Precisely.
Those six people were very carefully watched.
As you know, Baxendale's surveillance
took him to that party on Saturday.
You don't suppose he could have found that report
-in Ashley's room? -No, I don't.
He wasn't caught in Ashley's room.
And as you also know, Ashley had an alibi that night,
which is more than I can say for your nephew.
Grady was with Kitt Donovan.
That's like Bonny Parker alibiing Clyde Barrow.
[Jessica] Captain, uh, we may be forgetting something.
I mean, how do we know for sure
that anyone intended to kill Baxendale?
I mean, in that costume,
the killer may have been after you.
Not a chance. According to the police,
the shot was fired from 25 feet away. No more.
I just can't help but think.
It was such a dark night, you know, so cloudy.
And you know that if a mistake was made...
Oh, you're probably right.
Mrs. Fletcher, you're a very shrewd cookie,
but you're barking up the wrong tree.
All my employees know that I am
Captain Caleb's chowder houses, okay?
Without me, the whole thing falls apart.
And as for my wife, Louise, we have a prenuptial agreement.
As long as I'm alive, she lives like a queen.
If I die, she gets next to nothing.
There goes your theory of mistaken identity.
[phone rings]
Hello?
Aunt Jess, where have you been? We've been worried sick.
Grady, what time does your office close?
What time what?
I don't know. What's the difference?
What time, Grady?
Uh, 6:30, 7:00...
Aunt Jess, what's going on?
Listen, only two people
could have stolen that real estate report:
you and Ashley Vickers.
Now, I've pretty much eliminated you as a suspect.
Thanks.
Which means we have to prove that Ashley is the culprit.
Now, I want to look around her office.
Aunt Jess, that's police business.
Well, at the moment, the police business
seems to be convicting you of murder.
Look, meet me outside the hotel at 7:00.
Swell. They can tack on breaking and entering
onto my murder-one sentence.
Are you sure you want to do this?
I'm only sure that someone has to do something.
Well, even if Ashley did take those papers,
she couldn't have killed that detective.
-No, but her accomplice could. -What accomplice?
Grady, at great risk of exposure,
miss Vickers not only stole that report;
she brought it back to New Holvang.
Why? Obviously to pass it on to someone else.
-Someone at the party. -Yeah, probably.
And remember, whoever she was dealing with
was just as vulnerable as she was.
Well, it doesn't figure she'd keep anything
incriminating in her office.
Well, we'll never know unless we look.
[inquisitive music playing]
All right. Now Ashley's office is at the end of the corridor
-on the left. -Why are you whispering?
-Shh. -Oh, for heaven's sakes, Grady,
there's no one here. Now, I'll search the office,
-and you check the records. -What?
We need to know the names of the people from whom
the company bought the properties.
-Now, can you get them? -Yeah, they're in the computer,
-but I don't want to-- -Grady,
whoever bought and then re-sold those overpriced properties
has to have some connection, directly or indirectly,
with Ashley and her contact. Now scoot! I'll be fine.
[Grady] This may take a while.
[suspenseful music playing]
[elevator bell pings]
[phone ringing]
Yes?
Why are you calling me here?
I told you I don't want you calling me anywhere,
especially now.
[Ashley] Talk about what? I thought I made it clear.
It's over. I want no part of murder.
[Ashley] All right, all right. Stop getting hysterical.
Where are you?
All right, I'll be there as soon as possible.
Because they may be following me. I can't be sure.
I will do the best I can!
[sinister music playing]
[Tom] Boy, that was a fast trip, miss Vickers.
-Sign me out, will you, Tom? -Sure thing.
Good night now.
[elevator dings]
So nice to meet you, Tom.
Ma'am. Ma'am. Excuse me, ma'am. Ma'am!
Uh, Taxi! Taxi! [horn honking]
Oh! Taxi!
Can you follow that bus?
Are you kidding me, lady?
You know where that thing's going?
But that's the trouble.
I don't know where it's going!
[bus decompresses] [horn honking]
Thank you so much.
Does this bus go to the same place
as that bus up ahead?
[bus driver] That's the way it works, lady. Up the street,
down the street. Seventy-five cents.
Oh, yes, of course.
I've got my wallet here someplace.
Oh, here we are.
Exact change, lady.
Oh, but I don't have exact change.
Then off you get at the next stop.
Excuse me. Do you have four quarters for a dollar?
No, but I've got three quarters for a dollar.
Oh, yes, uh... three quarters.
[Jessica] Ah.
George, I want to get off.
You just got on.
And now I want to get off... immediately.
[suspenseful music playing]
Hey, mama, you looking
-for something? -Ah, excuse me.
-Hello. -Oh, excuse her.
-The lady wants to be excused. -Please,
Would you mind letting me pass?
Uh-huh. You give me your purse, and I'll let you by.
Oh, don't be ridiculous.
Step aside before I call the police.
Oh, you gonna call the police?
What, do got the phone in there?
Ah. Well, ah... Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
[dramatic music playing]
[grunts]
You see, I'm not only going to take your purse;
I'm gonna give you a free blood test.
[grunting and groaning]
[XXX] Are you all right?
Yes... I think so.
Oh, thank you. Thank you.
You want some advice? I'd stay out of this neighborhood,
Mrs. Fletcher.
-You know me? -Yes, ma'am.
I recognized you soon as I saw you back on the bus.
I read your book. It's terrific.
[Jessica] Oh, thank you. But I still don't--
Hey, don't you know, Mrs. Fletcher?
You're a celebrity.
[laid-back music playing]
What time is it?
About the same as it was a minute ago, 11.30,
I'm sure she'll be all right, Mr. Giles.
Chasing around New York city, alone, at night,
maybe following a killer?
What happens if Ashley discovers she's being followed?
Sir!
Jess, in God's name, where have you been?
Oh, we've been worried sick.
For heaven's sake, Preston, I'm fine.
Don't tell me you've been waiting here for me.
You weren't actually following Ashley Vickers?
Well, I was, but I lost her.
Oh, I must hurry. I've a phone call to make.
Kitt, Grady, did you get what we need?
Well, not exactly.
Roy Gunderson.
He's the Chief of Police.
Grady, what were you saying about that computer?
I think I hit a wrong button.
Instead of real estate transactions
it started spitting out
last year's wholesale fish prices.
Well, we may not need that list of names, anyway.
Hello, operator?
Well, would you be good enough to connect me?
Well, that's very kind.
What do you mean you won't need them?
You could have been arrested for trespassing.
Yes, but I think I've got the connection.
[Jessica] Hello? Hello. Chief Gunderson?
This is Jessica Fletcher.
Jessica Fletcher.
Uh, well, I believe it's about a quarter past midnight.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Yes. Yes, but we do have a murder to solve,
and I think you'll sleep much better
once you've arrested Ashley Vickers.
[Jessica] Chief, this evening, I was privy to a conversation
in which she practically admitted
having stolen that report.
Chief, would you please stop complaining about your insomnia
and listen?
Now, I believe that your private detective
was the intended victim all along.
[Jessica] And I suggest that you scour his records
to find some connection between Ashley Vickers
and that Broadway composer, you remember him, Peter Brill.
-Peter! -[Jessica] Now, I-I may be wrong,
but frankly, I doubt it.
Anyway, Mr. Baxendale's files need a good going-over.
[Jessica] Well, I...
Yes, I suppose tomorrow would be soon enough to start.
Oh, you're quite welcome, Chief.
Good night.
You can't be serious about Peter Brill.
What do you mean? Don't you remember at the party,
him telling us about how he was holding auditions
for a new musical in a small theater
off 17th street? That's where I lost Ashley Vickers.
That could just be a coincidence.
[Jessica] Oh, I don't think so, Kitt.
Mr. Brill has been very unsuccessful
for several years. Yet now he has the funds
to mount a new show.
I mean, even off-broadway doesn't come that cheap.
There is nothing in these papers about the show.
Oh, but there must be an item or an ad or something
that would identify the theater.
Now, first thing tomorrow morning,
that gentleman and I are going to have a little chat.
[piano music playing] [woman singing]
Listen...
sounds of life.
No, Grady, I want you to wait out here.
I'm not letting you go in alone.
Of course, you will.
Aunt Jess, it could be dangerous.
If Mr. Brill believes that we're ganging up on him
I mean, it could be very unproductive.
And I think I'll get further on my own.
All right, but if you're not back in 20 minutes,
-I'm coming in there. -I'll count on you.
♪ You played a trick On my heart honey ♪
♪ You made my love disappear ♪
♪ I was the rabbit in your hat ♪
♪ I was your lucky boutonniere ♪
♪ You played a trick On my heart honey ♪
♪ It became so very clear ♪
♪ When you tucked me Up your sleeve ♪
♪ And you didn't even Shed a tear ♪
[Marvin] Well, Petey,
sweetheart, ain't she great? Huh?
Yes, Marvin, your client's talent is exceeded
only by her monumental capacity
for flagellation of the treble clef.
Ah, you got it.
[girl stutters] Are we through here?
I got to be on the switchboard by 8:30.
Yes. I've heard all I need to hear.
Thank you so much, Mrs. Devine.
That means I stink, right? Hey, well, listen, buddy,
you know, you don't play so hot either.
Yes, but you see, I've had only two hours sleep.
Whereas with you, sweet thing,
the oblivion of Morpheus seems to be
a perpetual state of mind.
Oh, yeah?
-Uh, listen, honey... -[girl shrieks]
Honey. Sweetheart. Sweetheart, come on.
Come on. Let's get out of here.
Petey. Petey, I'll be seeing you.
Uh, listen...
You got the dough for this thing, right?
Yes, Marvin, I got the dough.
Dynamite!
[Marvin] Come on.
[Jessica] Just where did you get the dough, Mr. Brill?
If you're here to audition, honey, come back tonight.
I was hoping we could have a nice little private chat.
Mrs. Fletcher.
Well, nothing would delight me more, but not this morning.
Perhaps, uh, lunch sometime later in the week.
Mr. Brill, tell me about the stolen information
that you've been receiving from Ashley Vickers.
My dear lady,
I have no idea what you're talking about.
But of course you do.
I followed her here last night.
If Ashley chose to sit in on my auditions
that is no reason to assume that we are in league
in some clandestine scheme.
Oh, now, stop this fiddle-faddle.
Now, a young man's future is in dire jeopardy
because of your shenanigans, and I won't allow it.
At the risk of repeating myself,
I don't know what you're talking about!
[Ashley] Peter!
Give it up.
Don't be a fool.
It's going to come out now, anyway. All of it.
Are you out of your mind? Do you want to go to jail?
Do you want to be arrested for murder?
Yes, Mrs. Fletcher...
Peter and I have enjoyed a perfect partnership.
He made enough money to stage a modest comeback,
and I had my revenge on Captain Caleb.
But murder?
You of all people should realize
I couldn't possibly have killed that detective.
Yes, of course.
What a pity Mr. Brill couldn't have been in the room with us.
Then I could have been your alibi too.
What a generous thought.
But you needn't concern yourself with me.
At the time of that detective's untimely demise,
I was seated at the parlor piano
delighting my fellow guests with dozens of melodic gems
from my incomparable repertoire.
Aunt Jess? You all right?
Just fine.
[cop] Hold it, mister! Stay right there.
Now, very slowly...
Put your hands over your head...
Flat against the wood.
I know the drill, son.
My name is Roy Gunderson.
I'm Chief of Police up at New Holvang.
My identification is in my inside coat pocket.
Sorry, Chief.
Can't be too careful, you know?
What are you fellows doing here?
Got an anonymous tip.
Said we'd find something very interesting on this boat.
Funny...
I got the same message.
[frivolous music playing]
You boys know anything about sailing?
Sure, a little bit.
Lay on that winch. Let's hoist this mainsail.
Turn the crank.
[dramatic music playing]
The victim's wife, Louise McCallum,
arrived at the Hudson street police station
shortly after 13:00 today, accompanied by her attorney.
When asked if she was under suspicion
of her husband's death, authorities
had no official comment. Mrs. McCallum, could I ask you,
why would they ask you to come down here today?
Could I get just one answer from you, ma'am?
Well, to recap:
Fast food mogul Caleb McCallum is dead at 58,
fatally shot several times in the chest.
-I can't believe it. -Why not?
The murderer was just rectifying his earlier mistake.
It's so hard to imagine Louise a murderer.
[knock on door]
-Oh, Chief? -Mr. Giles.
Hope I'm not, uh, disturbing...
Afternoon, Mrs. Fletcher.
Chief, why did they arrest Louise McCallum?
Oh, they just brought her in for questioning, ma'am,
that's all.
To tell you the truth,
we're kind of back to the start line on this thing,
except for the fact that your nephew is off the hook.
Miss Vickers and Mr. Brill have made full statements
about the theft of the documents.
But not about the murder.
Jess, that detective
was just in the wrong place at the wrong time
and wearing the wrong costume.
Caleb's murder proves that.
It sure does.
Anyway, the two of them have alibis
for both killings.
Seems that last night Brill dragged the lady over
to some New Jersey nightclub to catch this singer's act.
According to the witnesses,
they didn't leave there till past 2:30 in the morning.
The coroner says McCallum was dead by that time.
Well, the New York city homicide is taking over this case,
so I'm heading back home.
I just want to say, Mrs. Fletcher,
that I'm proud I met you.
You can horn in one of my cases any time.
Thanks, Chief. And any time you're in Maine,
you let me cook you up some lobster stew.
I'll do that.
[Preston] Jess...
That any time business sounds like you've decided something.
Yes, Preston, I'm, I'm going back.
I've got a... I've got a 4:30 reservation on the train.
Funny...
Despite the insanity that has surrounded
our brief acquaintance,
these days have been very special to me.
You know, over the past several years, I've acquired
every luxury a man could want.
But I've been operating on automatic pilot.
Automatic banking,
automatic security systems, automatic lights, appliances.
I'm a pampered rich man who does nothing for himself,
and I'm miserable.
[soft music playing]
Or at least... I have been.
Preston, wait.
I do like you...
a great deal...
but, uh... Oh, I'm sorry.
This is all moving just...
too fast for a widow woman from Maine.
I can respect that.
-You sure? -Absolutely.
Look, Jess...
you and I are going to be joined at the hip professionally
for a long, long time.
If something else is destined
to come out of this relationship, so be it.
If not...
At least... I've made a very good friend.
They're talking about a movie deal,
but don't get your hopes up. They usually fall through.
Oh, I certainly hope so.
After New York, I know I'm not ready for Hollywood.
Well, the tape with Barbara Walters
is going to air on Friday.
Oh, and finally, The New York Times
book reporter that's been assigned to you, uhm,
Chris Landon, uh, will be calling you by phone.
-Fine. Is that it? -Well, not quite.
There's a reporter from the Yale newspaper
that wants to get on with you in New London
and ride to Providence.
Be nice to him, Jessica, those Yalies are big fans of yours.
Oh, I adore them, and I adore you too.
You're a dear, Kitt. Now, see that this nephew of mine
-keeps out of trouble. -Promise.
-Are you sure you have to go? -Positive.
And I was so sure you'd solve the mystery.
Well, I couldn't and I didn't, and that's it.
It will have to remain unsolved,
-at least by me. -[Daniel] All aboard!
Well, Mrs. Fletcher. Nice to see you again.
Hello, Daniel.
You sure you're leaving this time?
Absolutely.
Oh, and one other thing, young man.
I want no surprise telegram mentioning the word "elopement."
I expect the deed to be done in my parlor.
[Daniel] Well, I guess you must have had a fine visit.
Well, I could hardly drag myself away.
[Daniel laughs]
Did your boy hear from the university?
Oh, yes, ma'am. He starts next September 4th.
Oh, you and your wife must be so proud.
Hmm. That we are.
Excuse me, ma'am. Uh... You feeling all right?
Yes. Why? Don't I look well?
Oh, yeah, you look just fine. It's just that, uh...
Well, you seem a little out of sorts.
Now, it's funny. You know, this past week or so,
I, I couldn't wait to get out of this city,
to go back where I belong. And now, I'm...
I'm not exactly sure where that is.
Yes, ma'am.
Well, if you need anything, you just let me know.
Thank you.
[lively music playing]
Daniel!
[Jessica] Daniel! Daniel!
[Daniel] What happened? What's the matter?
How do I get a train to New Holvang?
Well, you have to take the ramp to the North end of the station.
But... But you...
Mrs. Fletcher, what about your luggage?
Check it through to Boston. I'll pick it up there.
Good night, Jane. Have a pleasant evening.
[Jane] You, too, Mr. Giles. [phone ringing]
Mr. Giles' office.
Yes.
One moment, please.
It's some reporter from Yale University.
I think you'd better take it.
This is Preston Giles. What can I do for you?
She wasn't? Well, where did she go?
New Holvang? Are you sure?
Well, thank you for calling.
Jane, this is what I need. I want a charter plane
waiting for me at Teterboro ready to go when I arrive.
Yes, Sir.
[train noises]
Excuse me. Do you know 33 Apper Lane?
Big house. Red brick. Iron gates. Sure, I know it.
Are you sure you wanna go there?
Oh yes.
Oh, good evening, Deputy. Nice to see you again.
Oh yes, ma'am.
[driver] Hey, lady, you sure you want this house?
I mean, maybe nobody told you,
but we had a murder here a few days ago.
Yes, I was here.
Oh, yeah?
You know, uh, I don't think there's anybody here right now.
Well, I didn't expect there would be.
Uh, look. I'm not sure how long I'll be here,
but would you please wait?
Oh, gee, Lady, I don't know. You know,
it was the end of the shift, and I was on my way home--
well, naturally, I'll make it worth your while.
Well... Ah, sure. I guess so.
-For a few minutes, anyway. -Thanks so much.
[sonic boom explodes] [suspenseful music playing]
[Preston] I can unlock that for you.
That is you, isn't it, Jess?
Yes, it's me.
It's a little hard to see.
I thought you were in New York.
You were supposed to be on your way to Maine.
What are you doing here?
Trying to tie up a loose end.
I didn't think you'd go away happy.
What is it? What have you figured out?
I'm not sure.
It's almost 8:00. [Preston] What happens at 8:00?
Maybe nothing.
The house is dark. Where's Davis?
I gave him a couple of days off.
Look, this is silly.
I paid your cab driver and let him go.
Come on, let's go inside and have a drink.
Not yet.
[Preston] What is it? What are you trying to prove?
You know, Preston, you and I are standing
about 25 feet apart.
That's the same distance the killer was
from Sherlock Holmes when he was shot.
I guess.
The police believe that Mr. Baxendale
was shot by mistake, that in the darkness,
the killer thought he was firing at Captain Caleb,
but at this distance, I can see you perfectly.
That's because we're standing in bright moonlight.
Jess, the night of the party, it was overcast.
There was no moon. It was pitch dark out here.
The killer saw the costume
and assumed that McCallum was in that costume.
Automatic lights.
I'd hoped I was wrong.
They went on at 8:00.
When do they shut off?
Midnight, but what's the point?
The point is, the murder occurred at 11:15.
The point is, the killer knew exactly who his victim was...
or more specifically, Preston,
you knew you were shooting that detective.
Jess, for God's sake, you're not serious?
With this much light there couldn't have been a mistake.
Someone had reason to kill Baxendale.
We know it wasn't Ashley Vickers or Peter Brill.
No one at the party knew he was around,
no one but you and me and Kitt and Grady.
I can't believe you're saying this.
Do you think I'm taking any pleasure in it?
But why would I kill the man? I didn't even know him.
Oh, I think you did. At least he knew you.
Don't you remember?
As he was leaving the bedroom?
[Jessica] He saw that brass figure of blind justice
and he turned and he said something very strange.
He knew that you were the Count of Monte Cristo.
It was as if something suddenly clicked into place.
[Preston] Is that it? No, of course it isn't.
There were lots of little things,
things that didn't mean anything at the time,
but now I understand.
In the cab, after you had retained the lawyer,
you promised that Grady would be exonerated
-"one way or the other." -I was trying to comfort you.
Oh, no, I think you would have confessed
if you thought that Grady was in any real danger.
Jess, honestly--
No, you're not being honest, Preston. Not at all.
The telephone call proved that.
What telephone call?
[Jessica] At the party, when you were on the telephone,
when Ashley and I walked into the kitchen,
and I asked you who was calling.
Do you remember what you said?
A very persistent reporter from the New York Times .
He insists on interviewing you first thing Monday morning.
I told him you'd left for Pago Pago
and weren't expected back till the turn of the century.
The Times reporter assigned to interview me
was a young woman, not a man, Preston.
It was Mr. Baxendale on the phone, wasn't it?
Yes.
[melancholic music playing]
He insisted I meet him by the pool at 11:00.
The subject was blackmail.
I couldn't go through that... not after all these years.
I was in a blind rage.
I took a gun and shot him.
When I realized how easily I could have been seen...
if anyone had been outside... they could have heard the shot.
Many years ago, I was betrayed by three partners
in a business venture.
An apartment house we'd built collapsed.
Several people were killed.
Although I had nothing to do with the construction end,
I was made the scapegoat.
They got off free, and I was sentenced
to 15 years in prison.
After two years, I managed to escape.
Don't ask the details
but the police assumed I died in the attempt.
Like the Count of Monte Cristo.
As you well know, my favorite fictional character.
Well, not everyone was convinced that I was dead.
A hotshot detective third-grade
had a hunch that I was still alive.
He became even more positive when,
over the next couple of years, like the Count of Monte Cristo,
I financially destroyed
my three ex-partners from a safe distance.
Saturday was the first time I'd seen him in 22 years
and I didn't recognize him.
But, obviously, he recognized me.
He'd changed his name, as I had.
But I knew that if the police
ever started poking around his files,
sooner or later, they'd come across me.
Yes. The files.
That's why you dressed Baxendale up
in the Sherlock Holmes outfit,
to make the police think
that the killer had intended to kill Caleb.
You had to divert attention away from Baxendale.
Yes.
He was a slimy blackmailer, Jess. He'd threatened
to destroy my life.
Morally, it was a case of self-defense.
Preston, even if I could bring myself to believe that,
there's no way that you can justify
the murdering of Caleb McCallum. And you did kill him.
For the same reason:
to divert suspicion from yourself.
Caleb wasn't much of a human being, either.
Oh, but he didn't deserve killing.
No one deserves killing.
Oh, Preston, I'm so angry,
I don't know whether to scream or cry.
All the way to the railway station,
I was thinking about you.
Twice I nearly turned around and came back.
Then, when I realized... When I read that newspaper...
[somber music playing]
I'm sorry, Jess.
I truly am.
Another time, a different place, we might have had something.
I'm going to talk to Gunderson.
Would you go with me?
Yes, I'd like to very much.
Grady, I'm not coming back to this city.
Not next month, not next year.
Hey, I know you're a little upset.
Upset? These last seven days have been
the most miserable week of my entire life.
You really liked him, didn't you?
Yes, I really liked him.
Oh, Grady, if only I hadn't been such a terrible busybody,
if only I could have just let it be.
Great, then I'd be on trial, not Preston Giles.
Well, I've had enough.
I've had enough murders, enough puzzles, enough suspects.
You know, I don't even think I'm gonna write another book.
Sure you will, and I'll be the first one to read it.
-We'll see. -[Kitt] Jessica, wait!
-Oh, thank God, I caught you. -Kitt, what's the matter?
Oh, the police, they've been trying to find you all morning.
They won't say, but I think they need your help.
Help from me?
Well, the bodies of two dead wrestlers
were found this morning at Madison Square Garden.
They were lying in the middle of the ring.
One had been stabbed, and the other drowned.
Absolutely not.
Oh, but they say there's a logical explanation,
-but they really need your help. -Grady, tell her, dear.
[cheerful music playing]
Good-bye, children. And don't forget to write.
It's been wonderful being with you both.
[Jessica] Take care.
Drowned?