See this novel, it's gonna make me hot again.
I don't have the manuscript.
[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
Okay, pal. Freeze.
If this is the best you guys can do for a cop,
this town is in real trouble.
I can't believe this lowlife is actually a friend of yours.
Pay me the 863, or have a little talk with Richard.
-Oh, he can talk now? -Listen.
That manuscript that I sent you.
I'm afraid I don't have it.
Hey, I haven't got it.
I want that book, Mrs. Fletcher.
I've got no more options.
[suspenseful music]
[cheerful orchestral music]
[dramatic music]
How am I supposed to look at it?
I date a couple of broads who work here,
and you give them the third degree about what went on.
Sounds like you're writing a book, not me.
Nick, calm down.
Fifteen years I've been with this team.
Suddenly, you're checking up on me
like I'm some kind of a spy.
-Nick... -Come on, Gordo.
Half of Boston has heard rumors and stuff about Oggie,
but telling tales outta school, I mean, that's not my game.
Besides which, I mean,
I'm so blocked I have trouble typing my own initials,
and besides which, don't flatter yourself.
This is standard rich-kid stuff.
I mean, the playboy with too much money and not enough to do.
If I were able to write again,
I sure as hell wouldn't be writing about you, Oggie.
Even with the debutantes
and the Ferraris and the 12-meter yachts,
you're not exactly Mr. Fascinating.
Ah, now that's not the impression you gave the girls.
Jeez, I don't believe I'm hearing this.
I mean, company gossip?
That's what their lives are all about.
Ah, look, to hell with this.
Okay? To hell with this.
Let's just end this before one of us says something we regret.
Sit down, Nick.
We had no intentions of offending you.
We were just a little curious, that's all.
Well, can we talk about my contract?
Ah, Nick...
[chuckling] You can relax, fellas.
I mean, my lawyer tells me I'm nuts,
and my agent says I'm suicidal.
I mean, he was all set, you know, to go for the jugular.
I mean, he says, after 15 years, I am Schmesser beer.
Nick...
But I said, "no, no, no,
"we're not gonna take advantage here now,
with sales in the dumper like they are."
I said, you know,
"we're not gonna hold these people up
for not one penny more than what my last deal was."
That's very gracious of you, Nick.
Well, I, you know... I don't need thanks.
I mean, what are friends for?
Speaking of which, though,
I have one little temporary problem.
I need... I need an advance.
My bookmaker is giving me a little flak
and I wanna throw her a bone. No biggie, nothing big.
100 grand'll make her as happy as if she had good sense.
[laughs]
Nick...
we're not renewing you.
[stammers] You're what? You're not what?
[beeping]
It's called business, Nick.
Well, listen, wait a minute, you...
Research tells us
there's a whole generation out there
that doesn't even know who you are.
[stammers] Look, you can't...
They don't know that you used to write detective stories.
They say that we need a fresh new campaign.
In short, Nick, you are the reason
that Schmesser beer sales are down.
If you'll excuse us, we have a meeting coming up.
Perhaps you could use your pictures.
[light music]
Hey, Nick, what do you say?
Well?
[door closes]
-[snaps] Zip. -You're sure?
Hey, if I say there was no manuscript,
then there wasn't any, okay?
I covered every lousy inch of his cabin.
The files, everything. [scoffs]
There weren't even any notes for it.
Nothing there but unpaid bills,
empty beer cans, and dirty dishes.
Writers. [scoffs]
[laughs] See? Maybe now we can just forget
about this book nonsense and concentrate
on getting the yacht ready for the Newport race.
High and outside, ball one.
-Ogden. -What?
Let's suppose that we do forget about this book,
and that such a book really does exist.
How many yachts do you think you'd be able to afford
after your grandfather gets a look at it?
[soft dramatic music]
[dramatic music]
I keep hearing about this great book of yours, Nick.
But I don't see it.
All I see is this overdue tab
for 150 large ones.
Vikki, if you would just let me--
Enough already! I want the money, Nick.
Now. Today.
[phone ringing]
Yeah?
The lakers? [computer beeps]
Plus three points.
That's the spread, Howie. Take it or leave it.
Two large? [typing]
[computer beeps] Done.
[hangs up receiver]
And I mean the whole 100-and-a-half.
Vikki, you're not hearing me, babe.
See, this novel, it's gonna...
It's gonna make me hot again, and rich.
I mean, the advance alone is for way more than what I owe you,
and the check is on its way from New York.
Go ahead, you don't believe me? You don't believe me?
Go ahead, call my agent. Call him.
New York. 212-55...
oh, wait a minute.
Yeah, he's already left for the weekend.
I tell you what.
48 hours, and you get every penny.
24, and be here.
No problem. No problem.
And Vikki, hey, thanks a lot.
[door closes]
[dialing] He's lying.
Probably.
So how come you let him off the hook?
Marjorie, it's me.
How's the big apple treating you?
Tell me about it. Hey, what could be new?
Teams win, teams lose.
I pick up a couple of bucks either way.
Listen, I need a favor.
Yeah, I want you to ask around, your literary friends.
See if there's any word on a new book by Nick Cullhane.
Yeah, the guy in the beer commercial.
Thanks, Marj.
Wait a minute.
I know why you didn't lower the hammer on him.
It's 'cause you and Nick Cullhane--
No, Richard. Don't start in again.
I'm sorry, all right?
I don't mean to think these things, baby.
-I really don't-- -Good.
Then knock it off.
[light music]
[mouthing]
[phone ringing]
Hi there. This is Nick's machine.
As soon as I beep, say your piece
and I'll get back to you. [beeps]
Nick, this is Jessica.
I may never forgive you for sending me your manuscript.
I couldn't put it down until I finished it at 4:00 a.m.
I really loved it. Every word.
The characters are wonderful, they're exciting,
full of dimension and life. [car approaching]
It's... well, it's by far
the best thing you've ever written.
Congratulations.
You've obviously cured your writer's block.
Will you call me soon and tell me your secret?
Good-bye.
[chuckles]
[suspenseful music]
Can I kick it in?
Go ahead.
Take your pick, McGraw.
Pay me the 863,
or have a little talk with Richard.
Oh, he can talk now? [chuckles]
In a minute, darling.
What do you say, Harry?
Aw, come on, Vik. You know I'm good for it.
I mean, hell, all the years I did business with Lou,
he never tried to muscle me. That was Lou.
This is me.
Okay, tell you what, I'll let you work it off.
-I got a job for you. -No, forget about it.
-I don't finger people. -Will you stop?
I want you to find something for me.
A manuscript.
What? Like in a book?
It's collateral for another tab.
A very big tab, Harry.
Trouble is, there's not a whole lot to go on.
All I got is this.
It's from a guy's answering machine.
The woman on the tape, I figure she could be his agent,
or maybe one of those hollywood-producer types.
-I'm not sure. -You're not sure?
She's the link, Harry. You find her, we're home free.
Listen. [scoffs]
For a lousy 863 bucks, you want me to find a voice?
I mean, there's gotta be 150 million women...
...for sending me your manuscript.
I couldn't put it down until I finished it at 4:00 a.m.
I really loved it. Every word.
The characters are wonderful... [clearing throat]
they're exciting, full of dimension and life.
You okay, Harry?
I just swallowed the wrong way.
[clears throat] Listen, Vikki...
[chuckles] I'm not a magician,
but I am a pretty good PI as you well know.
Skip the commercial, Harry.
You wanna find her, or you wanna pay me?
Okay, okay, but I'm gonna need some expense money.
I mean, this Jessica, or whatever her name is,
she could be anyplace. San Francisco, or China.
Harry, Harry,
you think I don't own a television?
What're you saying?
What she's saying, stupid, is even those private eyes on TV
know how to find out where phone calls come from.
Oh, that? Yeah, well, sure.
I can do that, but... no rough stuff?
No rough stuff.
Good. When you find out, you go there, and I go with you.
No. No way. I work alone.
Not for me, you don't.
Say, what about me?
You mind the store.
Vikki, I hate this.
With him?
You've gotta be kidding.
You wanna hang on to your hands, pal,
you better keep them to yourself.
Do you understand?
Everything I do should be so easy.
[exclaims]
[soft dramatic music]
[playful music]
Sheriff...
Floyd, you see that guy in the porkpie hat?
-Yeah. -I know him from someplace.
Boston.
Boston?
How do you know he's from Boston?
Bus came from there.
Get in the car.
I think I'll look at some wanted posters.
[knocking at door]
I'm coming. Coming.
[chuckling] Jessica! What do you say?
Nick? What are you doing in Cabot Cove?
So, you gonna invite me in, or what?
Well, of course I am. Come on in.
But what is it?
Is something wrong?
Wrong? No, no.
Well, some days are more fun than other days,
but I mean, what else is new? [chuckles]
Listen, that manuscript that I sent you...
Oh, it's wonderful, Nick.
But didn't you get the phone message I left you?
No. I haven't been spending too much time
around my house lately.
I'm really glad that you like it, really, but...
I need it back, Jessica, now, today.
Oh, dear.
I'm sorry, but I don't have it here.
Oh, please, tell me I'm not hearing this, please.
Nick, it's...
Somebody broke into my cabin. They trashed my computer.
They took the only other copy.
Nick, it's all right, your book, I mean.
I loaned it to a friend, Ben Devlin,
he's our newspaper publisher, for a second opinion.
[chuckling] Oh, Jessica!
[kisses hand] I love you.
So, how do I find this guy?
Well, I'm afraid you can't, until next week.
He's in the Canadian Woods on a fishing trip.
Oh, boy.
I couldn't have just sat down
and wrote another Rick Sledge novel, no.
I had to... I had to get creative.
[window rattling]
[door closes] Nick.
Nick?
Nick! [doorbell rings]
[doorbell rings]
-Harry! -Hiya, Jessica.
Long time no see. San Francisco, McGraw?
150 million women?
Jessica Fletcher, say hi to Vikki Palumbo.
Oh, Miss Palumbo, how very nice to meet you.
Harry!
Oh, no. This is strictly business.
[clears throat] I mean, she's a client.
We're looking... I'm looking for a book
written by Nick Cullhane.
Now, I heard that he sent you a copy.
I want that book, Mrs. Fletcher.
Oh, are you in the publishing business, Miss Palumbo?
Not exactly.
That scumbag, Nick Cullhane, ran out on me.
Oh, then you must be his agent.
Well, Miss Palumbo is kind of in the credit business,
and Nick owes her some heavy bread.
Bread?
Oh, yes. Yes, of course.
Gambling debts. Nick.
I should have thought of that right away.
My goodness, women are certainly breaking ground
in new professions, Miss Palumbo.
That book of his, if it exists, is my collateral.
Oh, so that's the trouble he's in.
Are you sure that's all?
Well, it's all I know about.
Well, as far as that book,
there's something that you should know.
This Mrs. Palumbo, she's a bookmaker?
You got that right.
And she's gone to Maine?
Yeah, phone messages.
I found them last night
in her boyfriend's desk.
Phil, I would much prefer that you don't tell us
how you go about these things that you do.
You're making me an accomplice.
She took a private investigator with her.
A guy named McGraw.
All right. I want you to get up there, fast.
This morning I fired two more secretaries
who admitted they'd been feeding Nick Cullhane company gossip,
and God knows how many others he's slept with,
or what they told him.
I hardly even knew him.
Guys, whoa... guys?
Wait a minute here. First off, listen to me.
We don't know for sure if this book even exists, and second...
I just don't wanna know. I just told you...
I don't want to know how you go about these things.
I can't afford to know. Phil...
I want you to keep in mind that until we get our hands on it,
we have to assume the worst
about what this book might contain,
and that anybody who has read it,
and is still capable of walking and talking,
can hurt us.
[dramatic music]
Badly.
[phone ringing]
[ringing continues]
-Hello? -Jessica.
Everything okay?
Well, I'm not so sure. Nick, where are you?
I'm kinda on the move.
Those people that came to your front door,
it wasn't anybody called Mannix or Forbes, was it?
No. Nick, for heaven's sakes, what's going on?
I mean, if you're in some kind of trouble,
maybe you should go to the police.
We have a very responsible sheriff here, you know.
No, no, no. For God sakes, don't get the cops involved.
All I gotta do is find that copy of my manuscript,
and I'm outta here. Now, who did you say
-you gave it to? -Ben Devlin.
He's our local newspaper publisher.
But he's out of town until next week.
Next week.
If I don't get my hands on that manuscript,
there may not be a next week.
Listen, don't tell anybody you saw me.
Better yet, you don't even know me, okay?
Well, I'm sorry, Nick, but it's too late.
A lady came to the house looking for you.
She's interested in your book. Her name is Vikki Palumbo.
Terrific! It's just what I need!
Jessica, if anybody named Mannix or Forbes contacts you,
you never heard of me!
And for God sakes, don't tell them I sent you my manuscript!
417. That's Devlin's house.
So, now what?
Now we sit and watch.
Till when? The guy isn't coming back for a week.
Besides which, we don't know if he took the book with him,
-or if he's got it hidden. -Vikki, will you knock it off?
This is what real detectives do.
Here, have a donut.
I can't believe you actually charge people
for this kind of work. [snickers]
You know what I can't believe?
That a sweet guy like Lou Palumbo
-could put up with you. -Lou was a schnook.
He needed people to like him.
In the bookmaking business, that's a killer liability.
Well, that's one problem you'll never have.
Oh, oh. There.
What there? Where're you going?
Shh! Sit still. I'll be right back.
McGraw... [sighs]
[mischievous music]
Mr. Cullhane? I figured it was you.
Ogden sent you, right?
Ogden? No, no, no. Listen, all I wanna...
[grunts] God.
Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
My client, see, all she wants... [tires screeching]
[grunts]
Okay, pal. Freeze.
Look at that, you lousy creep.
Hey, hey, put a sock in it, will you, Vikki?
I'm on the phone here. [Vikki crying]
Yeah, that right. Not only is there a manuscript,
but at least two of the locals have read it so far.
All right, Phil, I want you to back off until I get up there.
Yeah, well, you better make it fast.
We need some heavy-duty damage control.
What happened, my bubala? What happened? What?
The big, bad man hit you?
Oh. Listen to me, sweetheart.
Do yourself a favor, will you?
I mean, unless you're really looking to get hurt,
you let me know the minute you see
or you hear from Nick Cullhane.
Hmm? Fershtays?
Oh, you know, I wouldn't bother calling the cops.
I'm a retired detective,
a sergeant with a whole string of medals and commendations.
And you...
you are what you are.
You know what I mean?
[door slams]
[crying]
[soft dramatic music]
Thank you.
Say, you've got a Miss Palumbo registered here.
What is her room number?
I'm her brother.
What do you think? I punched myself in the mouth?
Jessica, if this is the best you guys can do for a cop,
this town's in real trouble.
Mrs. Fletcher, I can't believe this lowlife
is actually a friend of yours.
Oh, Harry, sheriff, please.
Okay, okay.
So if you didn't break in, what were you doing there?
I just happened to be passing by.
2 miles away from your hotel?
sheriff, was anything stolen from Ben's house?
Well, nothing you could notice, no.
Well, then you really have no reason to be holding Mr. McGraw.
Mrs. Fletcher, back when I was with the NYPD,
we used to have a saying about PI's
unfortunately, it's not something I can repeat
in mixed company, but I think you should know.
I checked with the Boston PD.
Turns out they've yanked his license
four times in the last three years.
Plus he's been picked up on suspicion of murder,
breaking and entering, assault.
-I know. -You know?
Yeah, Sherlock.
And how many times did it stick to the wall?
Harry!
He refuses to describe this alleged burglar,
who allegedly assaulted him. sheriff--
Come on, will you? It was pitch dark.
And he refuses to explain what he's doing in Cabot Cove.
You know, I can remember a time
when event he dumbest cop knew about client confidentiality.
Will you please stop this?
Both of you.
You know, sheriff, I think that Harry has a good point here.
Oh, thanks a lot.
But I can tell you this much.
It has something to do with Nick Cullhane.
Nick Cullhane?
From the beer commercials?
Yeah, yeah, that's the guy I saw getting off the bus.
Okay, Mrs. Fletcher, give.
What's Nick Cullhane doing here in Cabot Cove?
Uh...
I... I really don't think I should say any more, sheriff.
Oh?
I suppose that's client confidentiality too?
[light music]
Jessica, you were within your rights,
-and I was within mine. -I know.
But I hated not telling Sheriff Metzger
everything I know.
-Trust me, he'll get over it. -He's a good man, Harry.
I mean, he was only trying to do his job.
Yeah, that makes two of us.
I still don't understand why Nick would automatically assume
that I was working for Oggie Schmesser.
Harry, how much do you know about this Mr. Schmesser?
Only what I hear, which is, he's not all that swift.
He's sort of a playboy type,
and he's been running the brewery
since his grandfather retired,
that is, when he's not chasing skirts.
Well, I'm not sure if this means anything,
but Nick's manuscript is about a wealthy young playboy
who inherits his grandfather's brewery.
Yeah?
-Now, that's interesting. -In Nick's book,
his best friend is an unscrupulous attorney
who manipulates him into some very unethical behavior.
Yeah, I'm getting the picture.
So Nick did a real hatchet job on Schmesser.
But that still doesn't explain why he was afraid of me.
It may be more than a hatchet job, Harry.
Do you recall Mr. Schmesser being kidnapped?
Yeah, about five years ago. It was a big deal.
The Boston papers seemed to think so.
I was going over some back issues
this afternoon in the library.
Yeah, I think the grandfather came up with
about three million bucks to save junior's a...
buns.
Yeah, well, that's what the papers said.
But according to Nick's book,
young Mr. Schmesser was never really kidnapped.
It was all a big hoax,
rigged by the young man
and his friend, the attorney.
Oh, to set up grandpa and keep the $3 million for himself.
Whoa.
Well, in the manuscript, it's the grandmother,
-but otherwise... -Hey, why not?
Rich kid. Expensive tastes. Short of cash.
But Jessica, if it actually happened that way,
that means that Oggie and his pals
are seriously worried about this book coming out.
Yes.
You know, I had the impression
that Nick was worried about a great deal more
than simply repaying a gambling debt.
Which, by the way,
may not be the whole story with Vikki Palumbo.
I mean, she might be just stringing me along,
trying to get her hands on that book
so she could, I don't know,
maybe extort money from Schmesser.
Come on, I'll get you a cab.
Oh, I don't know, Harry.
This all sounds very melodramatic.
You wanna talk melodramatic?
What about if Schmesser and his pal are really worried
about what's in that book,
then you and your friend, the newspaper editor,
-Ben, what's his name? -Devlin.
You could both be in this as deep as Nick
just because you both read the thing.
Oh, Harry, that's awfully far-fetched.
Besides, it's possible that it's not about any of this.
I mean, he could be having romantic problems,
or perhaps he's in trouble with the law, or something like that.
Yeah, and I'm Sam Spade.
Oh, I just wish I could give him his manuscript
and let him do whatever he wants with it.
Listen, Jessica, is it possible
that he left it at his newspaper office?
Well, he told me that he was taking it with him,
but yes, I think it's possible.
[dramatic music]
[knocking at door]
Yes?
Uh, I'm an attorney, Mrs. Fletcher.
My name is Gordon Forbes.
I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour of the night,
but I need to speak to you on a matter of great urgency.
Mrs. Fletcher, I really don't like talking through a door.
Thank you.
I tried to call you on my car phone on the way up from Boston,
but there was no answer.
I understand that you have a copy of a certain manuscript
by Nicholas Cullhane.
Now, on behalf of my client,
I am prepared to make you an extremely generous offer.
Mr. Forbes, I don't have the manuscript.
Now, if you'll excuse me.
Wait. Please.
Do you know where it is? The manuscript, I mean.
Mr. Forbes, if I call out, my neighbors will hear,
and I happen to know that several of them have guns.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.
I'll call you in the morning.
[mischievous music]
[creaking]
[clattering] Hey!
[grunting]
[door opens]
[door closes] Ow.
[car starts]
[grunting]
[tires screeching]
[dramatic music]
Nick cullhane.
Drop it, dirtbag.
I can't wait to see Mrs. Fletcher
try to explain this one.
I told you, I don't know whose gun it was.
Sure. Like you don't know who slugged you
because there wasn't anyone.
I figure the manuscript was never there,
or else the killer took it.
Look, if I could've returned the script to him,
-Nick might still be alive. -Now, now, wait a minute.
-What manuscript? -Nah, nah. Don't bet on it.
I mean, there are too many people after him, and his book.
Now, he went to the newspaper office looking for it.
Now, somebody followed him.
Or someone got there first. Oh, Harry!
Excuse me, could we get back to this manuscript?
Remember when I told you you might be on the spot
just because you read the thing? Now do you believe me?
Harry, we don't know that's why Nick was killed.
-Wrong. You don't know. -Now, hold it.
-I want to hear about this-- -The character in the book,
the one who helped him rig his own kidnapping.
-Kidnapping? What kidnapping? -Now if we can match him up
with the real guy in schmesser's life,
-then we could solve the- -All right, now hold it!
That's it!
You are both gonna tell me whose manuscript,
what kidnapping, who's Schmesser,
and what in the hell this Megillah's all about.
-All right, sheriff. -Okay, pal.
[tires squealing, honking]
Ogden, I told you it wasn't necessary
for you to drive all the way up here.
Oh, no?
-I thought I could count on you. -And you, Phil.
We've been covering as many bases as we can.
I've been on the phone since sunup,
trying to keep us out of the press.
Yeah? Well, you wouldn't know it.
All I've heard on the news
is Nick Cullhane and Schmesser Brewing.
It's like it's part of his name.
Hey, kid, get a grip, huh?
We're giving it our best shot.
Well, that's not good enough.
I should have never listened to either one of you.
I mean, running up and down the coast
chasing after this manuscript without knowing what's in it,
and then, you don't even get your hands on it.
Ogden, you haven't got all the facts.
Listen, if grandfather was going to be unhappy
about a stupid book, how do you think he likes
his favorite TV spokesman getting murdered?
And the publicity it's generating?
He was on the phone to me practically all the way up here.
All right, that's it. I'll see you around sometime.
-No, wait. -Forget it.
Hey, I don't need this.
Come on. Phil, come on.
Listen, the guy needs a wet nurse.
I've been cleaning up after him for long enough.
Forget about it.
Now see what you've done?
Phil, please. I'm sorry.
Like you mean it!
Phil...
Phil?
I apologize.
I'll make it worth your while.
All right.
All right, now, the first order of business
is to find the book before anybody else reads it,
and before the press gets their hands on it.
150,000 down the pipes.
Yeah, along with the sports car you promised me.
Listen, there was never any guarantee
that book was worth 10¢.
I mean, my friend in New York said nobody'd ever heard of it.
And the fact that that Fletcher woman said she liked it,
well, maybe she was just being kind to Nick.
Anyway, who would've figured McGraw was smart enough
to try and go into business for himself?
I should've kept a closer eye on him.
Well, how close did it get?
Me and McGraw?
Richard, you're starting to irritate me again.
Vikki, I'm sorry. I don't mean to.
-Really. -Yeah.
Hey, let's get outta here.
Go. Get yourself packed.
Let's get back to civilization.
Listen, Vikki.
Now don't blow your top.
What?
[sighs] This guy Mannix.
You know, the one that you said came to see you last night--
-Don't. -Vikki, I gotta.
I mean, you and him, you didn't--
That's it, Richard. That's all!
I have had it with your jealousy.
-Vikki, I'm just-- -I have had it with you!
When we get back to Boston, you'll find yourself another job
and another life! Now, get out!
Keep going.
You're going in the right direction.
Sit down. All right. Now...
here, put these on him.
Up you go. Up you go.
[clears throat]
And I'm gonna say this just one time.
We want the manuscript, now.
What makes you think I've got it?
You haven't been paying attention.
-Hey! I haven't got it. -Phil, please.
You got a friend here. [exhales]
Now, Richard...
don't be stupid.
And don't try and protect Mrs. Palumbo.
We know you either gave her the manuscript
or you kept it for yourself after you killed Nick Cullhane.
Killed? Me?
You guys are out of your minds.
[sighs]
Okay, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Wait a minute. Suppose...
suppose I can get my hands on this manuscript...
I'm not saying that I can, but suppose...
would you guys be willing to come up with 200 grand?
[laughs softly] Huh?
Did I say 200?
$100,000. What do you say, guys?
Now don't scream out, will you?
I get very angry when I hear people scream.
Nitrate tests.
McGraw couldn't have fired the murder weapon.
I know, you were already sure he didn't do it.
-I didn't say a word. -Anyway, we got Mrs. Palumbo.
Collared her just as she was about to leave town.
Are you saying that she killed Nick Cullhane?
No, not directly.
The way it played was, she incited her boyfriend
-by playing on his jealousy. -Really?
Yeah, took some reading between the lines,
but I finally got her to admit
that she and Nick Cullhane had been an item.
The rest was easy.
She let Richard, the boyfriend, in on it,
he automatically assumed that Nick
was the one who made it happen and went after him.
Then Vikki's motive for revenge,
was Nick's not having paid his gambling debts?
Exactly.
Put on an APB on Richard about a half an hour ago.
State cops should be picking him up even as we speak.
I'll tell you, Mrs. Fletcher,
I wish they were all as easy.
I don't know, sheriff.
I have a feeling that there may be more to it.
Oh, ma'am, I gotta tell you. [chuckles]
This time you are dead wrong.
And I'll tell you something else,
I still bet the ranch your friend McGraw's
in this thing up to his nostrils.
[sighs] I don't understand.
Well, this manuscript that everybody's so hysterical about,
now the way I figure it is,
he grabbed it for himself. That's grand theft.
And which I would give my left arm to nab him for.
Now just a minute, sheriff. [scoffs]
I'll admit that Harry has a few unfortunate habits,
but like yourself, he's a decent, hardworking man.
And I'm positive that his involvement with this case is...
well, it's purely professional.
Eh, for your sake, Mrs. Fletcher,
I hope you're right.
That'll be 43¢ postage due, Mrs. Fletcher.
-All right. -Thank you.
Looks like Mr. Devlin sent that from Canada,
didn't realize about the new rates.
Yes, he's been away fishing.
Be seeing you, Mrs. Fletcher.
Thank you, Mr. Finnerty.
[gasps]
Give it to me, Mrs. Fletcher.
Uh, give you what?
Nick Cullhane's manuscript.
Oh, this?
[stammering] Oh, this is just a seed catalog.
Mr. Forbes, will you please leave my house?
I'll be glad to,
just as soon as you give me the seed catalog.
Now, Mrs. Fletcher,
I don't have time for this,
and neither do you.
What is it about this book
that you find so interesting, Mr. Forbes?
After all, it's just fiction, isn't it?
Or is it?
"I'm telling you, Osborn, it can't miss.
"Your grandma's going to do anything we tell her to do,
anything to get you back in one piece."
Such as paying the $3 million ransom
that you and young Mr. Schmesser collected from his grandfather?
Isn't that correct, Mr. Forbes?
Mrs. Fletcher...
[suspenseful music]
I've got no more options.
Yeah, you do.
You can start walking back in there, very carefully.
Oh, Harry, thank you.
You know, Jessica, you ought to keep your door locked.
Any kind of riffraff can just waltz right in here.
Now, listen, pal. It was bad enough
that you killed an okay guy like Nick and slugged me,
but when you start even thinking
about hurting Mrs. Fletcher here,
you're way off the chart.
You know, Harry, I'm not at all sure
that it was Mr. Forbes who murdered Nick.
Aw, come on, Jessica.
Let me ask you a question, Mr. Forbes.
Did you search through Nick Cullhane's cabin?
No. That was handled by Phil Mannix.
Phil. Phil Mannix.
Jessica, what is it?
Mr. Forbes, just how badly do you want
to get to the bottom of this?
I never should have been so trusting.
But I never dreamed that Gordo would pull something like this.
Hey, who could read minds?
Look, we'll talk to your grandfather, all right?
We'll lay it all out for him.
Nick's murder, plus whatever else happens to be in the book.
It was all Forbes' doing, right?
We'll just make the old man understand that we are clean.
[knocking at door]
Gordo! What do you know? What do you say?
You miserable, lying piece of garbage.
What? What?
I've seen the manuscript.
It's all in there,
everything that you told Nick Cullhane.
-He told him? -Don't listen to him, kid.
Oggie...
did you ever tell Nick or anyone else,
any of the secretaries, anybody,
about our little kidnap scheme?
What? Are you crazy?
That's why you killed him, isn't it?
So that he couldn't tell anybody
that he heard all about it from you!
[sighs]
Phil sold you that number...
didn't he?
Yeah.
Well, half of it's right, anyway.
The half about why Nick was murdered.
-I don't understand. -Oggie, he's lying.
No, you button it.
Now, Oggie,
listen to me.
Only the three of us knew about this, right?
You, me, Phil.
You didn't tell anyone. I didn't tell anyone.
All right, forget it!
Now, why would I pull a no-brainer like that?
He's the one nursing the grudges.
You know, complaining behind your back
about having to save you from yourself,
about always having to take your grandfather's heat for you--
Okay, Gordon, please, the truth now.
Where were you on the night that Nick Cullhane was murdered?
What're you asking him that for?
He's only gonna give you a lot of bull.
Phil, let him answer.
-I was with Vikki Palumbo. -Yeah, that's a lie.
Ask her.
I made a deal with her.
If she got to the manuscript first,
she was gonna sell it back to us.
But Oggie, what neither of us realized
was that Phil couldn't afford to have that happen
because Phil knew what was on every page!
And if we were ever to read the manuscript,
-then we would know. -Yes.
That Phil was Nick's source.
I'm sorry, fellas.
Now, if I'd gotten to the manuscript first,
we'd all be going back to Boston alive.
Go figure.
Freeze!
Move and you're a dead man.
[dramatic music]
[scoffs]
You're under arrest for the murder of Nick Cullhane.
Floyd, cuff him and read him his rights.
You have the right to remain silent.
If you give up the right to remain silent,
anything you say can and will be used against you
-in a court of law. -See? You did okay.
I still don't believe you talked me into this.
[both chuckling]
Okay, but what I don't get is, what was in it for you?
I mean, spilling the truth
about the fake kidnapping to Nick Cullhane.
Yeah, with Nick in hock to Vikki up past his eyeballs,
he couldn't have offered you money.
It's possible that Mr. Mannix may have another motive.
I mean, according to Nick's book,
your fictional counterpart tended to have
a rather loose tongue when he was drinking,
plus, he felt rather unappreciated by his employers.
You got that right, lady.
See, I was hired by old man Schmesser to nursemaid Ogden,
but grandpa didn't come around much anymore.
And Gordon Forbes, well,
he was busy building his little empire
which wasn't about to include me.
They conveniently forgot
the whole Mickey Mouse kidnap gag
would have fallen apart if it wasn't for me.
And when they collected the three million,
my end of it was pennies.
Anyway, Nick and I,
we used to go pub-crawling sometimes.
And one night, I guess it all just boiled up inside me
and I let the sauce get the better of my common sense.
Nick swore to me he'd never use the stuff that I told him.
Then about two weeks ago, I run into Vikki Palumbo.
She's all bent out of shape
because Nick's been stalling her.
She says he promised to pay her out of the money
that he's getting from a book that he wrote.
And suddenly you're frightened.
Yeah, well, I started doing some digging.
I found out
that Nick was dating some of the women at the brewery.
You know, just picking their brains
to find out what was going on behind the scenes.
Then I was sure there was a book.
And suddenly you realized
that if it contained all the information
that you'd given to Nick,
Gordon Forbes and young Mr. Schmesser would know
that it couldn't have come from anyone but you.
Right.
Even if the law didn't come after you,
it would've meant the end of your cushy life
on Schmesser's payroll.
You try living on a cop's pension.
So, you broke into Nick's cabin and found the manuscript.
Ma'am, I took what I thought was the only one,
and I burned it.
Along with the other thing, what do you call that thing?
What, the floppy disk?
And then I destroyed the computer.
But that left Nick.
He was a major loose end.
It's not here, Nick.
Phil! I was just trying to find it
so I could turn it over to you. [chuckles]
Sure you were. You weasel.
You just couldn't keep what I told you to yourself,
now, could you?
Don't... no!
[thudding]
[door creaking]
See? What did I tell you?
I'm sorry I couldn't cooperate more
with you, sheriff,
but I was trying to protect Harry and Nick.
I understand, Mrs. Fletcher,
but tell me something, how did you figure it out?
Whoever was desperate enough to kill Nick,
and who tried to kill me,
certainly knew exactly what was in that book.
Yeah, and whoever it was had to be the guy
who broke into Nick's place
before Vikki Palumbo and Richie ever got there.
-Right, Jessica? -Right, Harry.
And that, as they say, is all she wrote.
[upbeat music]
[cheerful orchestral music]