Try this for a deep, dark secret...
The great detective Remington Steele?
He doesn't exist. I invented him.
Follow... I always loved excitement.
So I studied and apprenticed...
and put my name on an office.
But absolutely nobody knocked down my door.
A female private investigator seemed so... feminine.
So I invented a superior.
A decidedly masculine superior.
Suddenly, there were cases around the block.
It was working like a charm.
Until the day he walked in...
with his blue eyes and mysterious past.
And before I knew it he assumed Remington Steele's identity.
Now I do the work, and he takes the bows.
It's a dangerous way to live...
but as long as people buy it...
I can get thejob done.
We never mix business with pleasure.
Well, almost never.
I don't even know his real name.
remington.steele.s01e09
********
www.1000fr.net presents
Sync:FRS@ÇéÔµºç
She's at it again!
- Veronica! - Mother!
He won't get me. Not tonight.
From the sound of it, Miss Kirk, she hasn't been gone very long.
Have you tried contacting the police?
I was hoping to avoid that if possible.
You see, my mother has something of a medical problem.
- And what's that? - Tequila. Lots of it.
That and the fact that she's been a virtual shut-in for the past 30 years...
has given rise to frequent lapses in memory, bouts of senility...
and even paranoid delusions. For the past two months,
my mother's been convinced that someone's trying to kill her.
- And there's no basis for her fears? - No.
Not if we're talking reality there isn't.
So then it's safe for us to assume that your mother is...
A four-star loon.
Look at you. This is new, isn't it?
- What a fabulous color for you. - Let me guess, Miss Wolfe.
Laura's in my office interviewing a prospective client...
and you've been posted here to prevent me from joining them.
- Laid it on that thick, did I? - With a trowel, I'm afraid.
Look, just this once, couldn't you let me win?
What? And ruin our perfect record? Tsk, tsk, tsk.
I was hoping your agency could handle this with the right sort of discretion...
Ah, excellent!
So glad you had the good sense to start without me, Miss Holt.
- Mr. Steele, I thought you were still... - In the mayor's office? What's the point?
My views on crime are public knowledge.
No, this is where I can really make a difference,
- eh, Mr. Michaels? - You certainly do make a difference, sir.
Now, how can we be of service to you, Miss...
Kirk. Jennifer Kirk.
It seems that her mother, Veronica, is missing...
- and the case is complicated by the... - Kirk? Veronica?
Veronica Kirk? Not the Veronica Kirk?
Death's Darling? The Camille of Gower Gulch?
I'm afraid so.
- You knew Veronica Kirk was an actress? - You didn't?
Oh, it's true she hasn't made a picture in...
it must be nearly three decades.
It could be four unless Phil Haver gets his way.
Hmm? Who's Phil Haver?
He's a producer, urging Veronica to make a comeback.
Oh, that's wonderful!
Phil Haver is a parasite
who bleeds pathetic old women of their trust funds.
Might I have a word in private with you, sir?
Oh. By all means. Excuse me.
Yes.
It appears I hit a sensitive nerve.
- Several. - My apologies.
But the thought of being a mere relative away from Veronica Kirk...
a veritable legend of the silver screen.
A deranged and drunken woman.
Perhaps legend is a bit strong. But the fact remains...
Veronica Kirk was the queen of the B's.
Bees? As in buzz-buzz?
B-movies. The second feature on a double bill?
they were made on a shoestring. No budgets, no stars.
Just good acting, great scenarios and a plethora of inventiveness.
- If you can contain your thrill... - Thrill?
Laura,
Veronica Kirk was one of the greatest femmes fatales of the cinema.
She died in more films than any other actress around and better too.
Better than Davis, better than Crawford...
for my money, better than Garbo.
Well, if I don't find her soon,
she just may outdo herself.
you're right.
Time to reminisce once we are sure that she's safe.
What makes you think that the mayor can spare you?
Laura, you can't be so cruel
as to come between a man of my cinematic expertise
and a star like Veronica Kirk,
can you?
What is it with you art directors?
Everything has gotta be the Taj Mahal?
Didn't you ever hear the expression "Less is more"?
So give me more, just make it cost less.
Mr. Haver?
Listen, if you're an actor, just give your resume to...
Mr. Haver, this is Remington Steele.
Remington Steele? The detective?
Huh. Hey, how are you?
Oh, look, if my wife sent you,
just tell her that I am having an affair...
and I'll send her some pictures if she wants.
No, Mr. Haver. We're looking for Veronica Kirk.
She seems to have disappeared.
Her daughter thinks you might know where she is.
Oh, that greedy little tramp
will do anything to keep me from making this movie.
Well, you tell her I may or may not know where her mother is.
But under no circumstances will I tell her.
Why should I?
So she can lock away my star in some loony bin?
Uh-uh!
You, uh, you like movies?
Miss Holt is not quite the film buff that I am,
but, uh, she's getting there.
Well, I love film.
I have... I have ever since...
Since my parents took me to see Dumbo.
The magic really got to me.
I was gonna break into this business,
no matter what.
So, I ate,
drank and slept film.
And finally, one day, I made it.
Really? And how did you get your start?
My father finally broke down and gave me a job.
- About Veronica Kirk... - Picture this.
In this film,
she gets to play three different roles.
The queen of the Amazon tribe...
the mother of a corrupt politician
and a TV anchorwoman.
All three die dramatically.
You get it?
Veronica Kirk dies...
three times in one movie.
Oh. Sounds splendid.
Are you kidding?
Nostalgia sells.
Veronica Kirk is a gold mine. I wish I had 10 more like her.
But they're all gone.
Crawford. Miriam Hopkins. Zasu Pitts.
All the rest of them are doing guest shots on The Love Boat.
So, you tell that banshee who hired you...
that she does not control Veronica
or her money... yet.
Mr. Steele!
I'm Eddie Howell. Philip Haver's publicist.
- I think we can help each other. - Oh? How?
Haver's got Veronica stashed.
I can tell you where.
In exchange for?
A half hour with her daughter and Mickey Prentice.
Who's Prentice?
Oh, yes, uh, Mr. Prentice.
I was examining his files this morning.
There's a book in those people that'll make In Cold Blood
look like Leave It To Beaver.
very well, Mr. Howell. we'll see what we can do.
Where is she?
Miss Kirk?
Veronica Kirk?
The manager didn't happen to give you a key, did he?
- Just the room number. - Shame.
Didn't you use to do this kind of thing?
- Motels? - Doors.
Ah! Of course. Bobby pin.
Thank you.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear.
She's alive.
Miss Kirk? Miss Kirk.
I'm Laura Holt,
and I've been hired by your daughter to bring you home.
Who's the dreamboat with the dimples?
My name's Remington Steele. And I don't mind admitting, Miss Kirk,
- I'm your biggest fan. - Oh, you are?
Have been ever since I saw you in The Lady From Montana Mountains.
I wept for days.
Dimples, you're making me blush.
Now, now, come on. Put your arm around me.
There we go. Let's get you up. There we go.
There we go, on the bed.
There. Can I get you anything? Some coffee, perhaps?
- Put your legs up. That's it. - Oh, thank you.
Oh. Yes, thank you. I'd...
No sugar, a little cream...
and a lot of tequila.
I'll wait in the manager's office for you-know-who.
Good thinking.
Oh, you're not
really gonna make me go back to that house, are you, Dimples?
Now, now, now, my dear. Your daughter's worried sick about you.
My daughter?
The only thing she's worried about is my money.
For the last two months,
somebody has been trying to kill me.
Every moment I spend in that house...
all I can see is the grim reaper...
heading toward me.
His shoes shined, his hair cut.
Determined to spend a night on the town with my soul.
Bandit Betty. Monogram. 1945.
I've always loved that speech. So... So descriptive.
Can the retrospective, Dimples.
I'm talking reality.
Why do you think I ran?
'Cause l... I like hiding out in cheap motels?
Drinking myself into a stupor?
No. I'm scared.
My life ain't much,
but it's all I've got.
And I wanna hang on to it.
You send me back to that house,
and I'm one dead dipso.
How were you ever able to get this out of Haver?
We're professionals.
Divining information is something we do all the time.
I knew he was at the bottom of this.
Isn't there some way you can shield your mother's money from him?
Short of having her committed?
Please! No!
Please.
No.
Please.
Magnificent!
Brilliant! Heart-wrenching!
Devil's Detour. Republic. Uh, 1949.
long ago and far away.
I just can't believe you're here, dying on my rug.
Well, that's what I do best, Dimples.
Bwana Woman. Now there was a wonderful picture.
I died of malaria in that one.
Savage Sagebrush.
Snakebite.
I did my soliloquy to the sagebrush and the savages.
- what a time that must have been. - Oh, yes, yes, yes.
I played opposite all the near- and near near-greats.
Kane Richmond. George Zucco.
- Sabu. - Oh!
Movies were really movies then, weren't they?
- Not like today. - Mm-mmm.
Videotapes, cable TV.
You don't even have to watch them in the dark.
It's like dreaming with your eyes open.
- no fun at all. - No.
Tell me. What was Tom Neal really like?
Ah. Excuse me.
- Ah, Laura. - I wanna talk to you, Dimples!
I see you got my message.
She your doxy, Dimples?
Laura Holt. My most trustful, resourceful, forgiving associate.
- Ethics. - You're understandably upset.
You're obviously unfamiliar with the word, let alone the concept.
However, I can explain our abrupt departure.
I am licensed by the State of California...
That poor womanis beside herself with fear.
To live by a code of professional ethics.
???
The Remington Steele Agency was hired to find Veronica Kirk,
not to abscond with her.
I couldn't allow her to be returned to that house alone.
Her daughter could have my license suspended for what you did.
Someone is trying to kill her!
Old ladies and little children.
Miss Kirk...
No one believes us.
They accuse us of having active imaginations...
as though that were some sort of a curse.
It's our active imaginations
that allow us to see the truth, vividly.
Someone is trying to kill me.
And I can prove it.
- Ronnie. - Oh!
Thank God you're all right.
Oh, it was the skull-faced reaper, Mick.
I felt him at my shoulder,
his razor scythe glinting in the moonlight...
and his rancid breath hot on my neck.
I won't let him have you, Ronnie.
I'll never let him have you.
such a dear fool you are.
A dear, sweet fool.
A skull-faced reaper with hot rancid breath, eh?
Oh, a bit colorful perhaps but, then, drama was her life.
- Still is. - Steele.!
- What are you doing here? - Same as you. Collecting my fee.
I'm aware we agreed to speak on your behalf,
but now is not the most opportune time.
Spare your smooth lines, Steele.
You wanted the old bird. I want an entrance.
Anyway you slice it, I'm going in with you.
That old bird means a lot more to me
than some hot copy for your rented typewriter.
You're gonna try to stiff me?
We did agree to help him, Mr. Steele.
And since this is hardly the place for a confrontation...
Very well.
Find someplace quiet to sit until I say otherwise.
And at least pretend you're a gentleman.
Thank you, Mickey. Thank you.
Oh, there you are, Dimples.
And here it was.
Now, I was asleep over there...
and a noise stirred me...
and I saw a dark form at the edge of my bed.
His gun cocked, pointed at me.
And I dared him to come one step closer.
And he did.
And I screamed a horrible scream.
And then he did it.
He pulled the trigger.
You say a man stood at the edge of your bed...
and shot you with a gun at point-blank range, and he...
Missed.
And they say that there is no God.
Miss Kirk, any thoughts as to who it might be who might want to see you dead?
I can't imagine.
I always thought I was loved the world over.
perhaps you could offer a more detailed description.
Well, it was very dark...
and I was still under the effects of my, uh, medication.
We've all been feeling the effects of your medication.
Thank you, Mr. Steele,
for sparing this household any further embarrassment.
If you'll wait downstairs, I'll make out a check...
just as soon as I've secured the situation.
- Dimples, l... - Just a moment, Miss Kirk.
There's a simple enough way to judge if your mother's story bears any truth.
Please don't humor her.
For if the assassin fired from there...
then the bullet must've traveled...
to here.
A rather convincing piece of evidence, wouldn't you agree, Miss Holt?
yes, I would.
It certainly is.
Except for the fact that it's 30 years old.
How's that?
January 12, 1952, to be exact.
It arrived there shortly after passing through my father.
He was standing on the bed at the time wearing...
a smile, wasn't it, Mother?
I'm told that the 16-year-old girl he had with him laughed hysterically.
She thought it was a gag.
Until the lights came on and she saw her brother standing there with a smoking pistol.
Of course, we'll never know.
By the time the police arrived, they were long gone.
Hollywood just doesn't make scandals like that anymore.
I think we're finished here, Mr. Steele.
It appears so.
Will no good soul believe me?
Am I utterly, utterly abandoned?
Now you know why I wouldn't wish my life on a dog.
- Mickey! - I caught him in the library going through the files.
- I'm calling the police. - Great! That's just the kind of thing I can use.
Of course, it could get a bit messy when they find out I had an invite, right, Steele?
Your personality grows more winning by the moment, Mr. Howell.
- You brought him here? - He followed us in.
In exchange for telling them where your mother was.
So just answer a few questions and I'll go without noise.
Prentice there was Veronica's stunt double...
but after Edgar was murdered, he started doubling him around here, am I right?
- Who's Edgar? - Veronica's late, unlamented husband.
Edgar was a swine
who grabbed at anything with hips.
When he wasn't shaming Ronnie in the papers,
he was usually hitting her with one.
Ah, but he paid off in the end, didn't he, Prentice, old boy?
You took the insurance money he left...
and built it into a portfolio worth over three million.
Sounds like more than a faithful companion to me.
Her life was shattered. She had no one.
Well, exceptJennifer, a 13-year-old kid.
You don't know what she was then. She was...
She was a chrysalis.
A nymph of the finest gossamer.
A creature from another world.
She still is... Mars. And now I think Mr. Howell...
Has overstayed his welcome.
Hey, hey, hey, hey! I've got some more questions.
I'll do my best to answer them. If you'll excuse us. Miss Holt?
You have my deepest,
sincerest apologies, Laura.
For anything in particular or shall I bank it for the future?
Spiriting Veronica out of that motel room
was not only unethical, it was irresponsible.
I was so enthralled by her, so eager to protect her...
that I gave no thought to the consequences for you or for the agency.
No, you didn't.
If I were a better person, I'd be doing more of this.
Apologizing?
You must admit since I elbowed my way into your life...
it's been more complicated than it really needs to be.
Seems I'm forever running off in the wrong direction,
crashing into this knocking over that,
leaving you and Murphy to pick up the pieces.
You know, at moments like this...
I wish I could call you something besides Remington Steele.
- Oh? - Then I could say. "Harry"...
or "Charlie" or "Cyril"...
you are good
and getting better all the time.
You have wonderful instincts
about people about cases.
You've come a long way,
Dimples...
in a short time.
Wonderful instincts, eh?
Even about you?
Must I?
- Probably. - Mm.
Steele here.
Dimples?
Yes, Veronica?
How ya doin', kiddo?
Oh, just fine, Veronica. And you?
I don't know, Dimples.
I think I just did a bad thing.
Mr. Prentice.
What are you doing here?
- Your mother called us. - Oh.
You just missed her.
Shame too. It was quite a performance.
Mother really topped herself.
And I'm sure she would have loved for you to have seen it.
Well, perhaps if you ask her nicely...
Oh, but who would we get to play poor Eddie Howell?
Could we speak to her, Miss Kirk?
I don't know. Do they have visiting hours in the booby hatch?
- Jennifer! - You had her committed?
no. No, no, no, Miss Holt.
It wasn't my decision.
They took one look at her and practically
shot-putted her into the psychiatric ward.
You're quite a cold woman, Miss Kirk.
- Do you think so? - Mmm.
Hmm.
Yes, I suppose I am.
But, then, cold people aren't born.
They're made. Don't you think?
Do you have any idea what it was like to be Veronica Kirk's daughter?
For my birthday parties,
do you know what the entertainment was?
My mother would die for us.
I mean it.
She'd come staggering into the room...
clutching some part of her anatomy...
and gyrate and sputter and finally fall into a heap
under the Pin the Tail on the Donkey board.
It was rather funny when I was seven.
It was tragic when I was 15.
But in the end, it was worth it.
Oh, yes.
Yes, I have fallen into a bit of,
shall we say, good fortune?
Which reminds me.
Now that I do have power of attorney over Mother's money...
I certainly won't be requiring your services anymore.
So, I'm delighted to inform you that you are discharged.
I can't believe Ronnie did it.
L-I can't believe they took her away.
Look, I don't like putting your psychopaths
in with Schwartz's schizophrenics either.
But Maxwell is up to his armpits in manic-depressives...
and Nardoff s neurotics are decompensating all over the place.
Dr. Dudworth, you are the psychiatric administrator.
- am I correct? - I've admitted to worse.
It's urgent that we speak with one of your patients... Veronica Kirk.
Kirk? Kirk? Oh, the shooter.
- You're not with the police? - Not exactly.
then you're relatives? I'll need proof of that, you understand.
- We're private investigators hired to look into... - Hold it right there.
If you're not relatives, you're not cops, you're not going anywhere.
That's a locked ward for the criminally insane.
- It's important we speak with... - Hey!
Not even Santa Claus gets in there on Christmas Eve.
Well, we handled that one brilliantly, didn't we?
It appears we simply weren't mad enough to get in.
Look, Arnold, I'll go a hundred thou a picture.
That's twice as much as it cost to make those turkeys in the first place.
No, no, no. Get back to me, you bandit.
Tragic about Veronica, huh?
What is this world coming to, huh?
Yeah.
So, what's it gonna be, Arnold?
********
Okay. No, no. You got me by the throat.
Yeah, but not a penny more than 125 a picture,
and that includes worldwide rights.
Okay. Bye-bye.
You're buying the rights to Veronica's old films?
You read upside down?
What are you, a William Morris agent?
Somebody's gonna grab 'em.
They're worth a fortune.
She was never this hot even in her heyday.
I didn't mean to intrude in your hour of grief, Mr. Haver...
what with your publicist dead, and your star accused of the murder.
It's all showbiz, sweetie.
A guy guns down 40 people,
the first thing he does is call his publisher.
Why shouldn't I cash in?
I was willing to back that old biddy
when nobody else would touch her.
What was Eddie Howell's function on this project?
Drum up interest in the picture.
Was he working on a book about Veronica?
No. Feature articles,
magazine layouts, stuff like that.
Could I take a look at his files?
What for?
Mr. Steele isn't totally convinced Veronica killed him.
She was standing over the body
with the murder weapon in her hand.
What does he want? Howard Cosell and an instant replay?
A motive would be helpful.
She doesn't need a motive.
She's nuts. Didn't you ever see Psycho?
I would think t would be in your best interest to clear Veronica...
so you can get your picture made.
If my father...
one of the finest, most respected distributors of erotic films...
taught me anything, it was insurance.
Every time you make a picture...
you gotta insure all the actors against accidents, illnesses...
acts of God, that sort of thing.
I am gonna make a ton on this picture...
without rolling a foot of film.
You are a ghoul, Mr. Haver.
Careful, sweetie.
First you con an old woman into investing in your picture.
Then you make a profit on her pain.
How's that for a motive, sweetie?
If you were a man...
If I were a man...
I would've broken your face by now.
Could somebody help me with this animal?
Cut it out, you.
Sergeant Milton, Wilshire Division.
I got a stray for you.
Heel!
We're 20 minutes from the end of the watch, and I get a 219.
Traffic disturbance.
Seems Fido here decided to chase a bus.
Looked like he was trying to bite the tires or something.
You should've seen what he did to my partner.
He's in the E.R. Right now getting stitched up.
Can we put this animal in a cage
or something and deal with the paperwork later?
- It's been a long night. - Yeah, sure.
Clifford, Elroy,
get this guy up to the C.I. Ward.
And if he gives you a rough time, shoot him with 25 mil ofThorazine.
Hey, I kept him quiet in the car with one of these.
It just seems like the worst ones always come out at night.
Yeah. Well, you know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen, huh?
Good evening.
Any of you chaps know where I might be able to find Veronica Kirk?
Murphy.
Oh, man. What's taking so long? The guard's making his rounds.
- Got it. - Well, let's get back to the hospital then.
How'd it go there?
He does the best Russian wolfhound imitation I've ever heard.
I'll bet you really enjoyed that part, didn't you?
He just looked so right in that straightjacket. I don't know.
Don't get too comfortable with the image. Now we've got to get him out of there.
Yeah, every plan can't be perfect, can it?
You've wanted me dead since the war began, Wolfgang.
Well, call your soldiers.
I need no blindfold.
Just a cigarette in my mouth
and the sun at my back.
Veronica. It's me.
Dimples. They got you too, huh?
Strictly voluntary.
how did you get around all those storm troopers?
Dogged enthusiasm.
Veronica,
I need to know what happened last night in your bedroom.
Oh, you're getting awfully personal, sweet stuff.
I'm talking about the shooting of Eddie Howell.
Oh, that.
Well, as I recall,
I was fast asleep, and I felt someone shake me.
But when I came to,
I was all alone, and there was a gun in my hand.
And I didn't remember having brought one with me to bed.
So I put the light on, and there he was.
You don't recall any shots being fired?
I don't think so.
But with this noggin, Dimples, who knows?
Well, we're gonna get you out of here.
But we're surrounded by a battalion of Germans.
Did that stop Bernadette of Berlin?
Only for a reel or two.
I'm counting heavily on the Allies.
Good evening. Millicent Wertnor, State Board of Health.
- We'd like to inspect your C.I. Wards. - It's 3:00 in the morning.
If you were as conversant as you should be with section 18, paragraph 6, article 5...
of the State Board governing minimum hospital standards for requisite maintenance and operation...
you would know that a representative of the board can ask for an inspection...
and I quote, "at any time he or she may determine necessary...
and that no prior contact or warning need be given for said inspections."
I don't think I can spare the time...
Are conditions so wretched you're afraid to let us see without a hasty whitewash?
Don't think we don't know how you urban hospitals operate.
It's not that. But I don't have the authority to take...
- Very well, then we'll call your superior and inform... - Wait a minute!
Look, if I wake Dudworth up at this hour with something like this...
he'll keep me on night duty till my hair falls out.
Will this take long?
If everything's in order, 10 minutes, tops.
All right, come with me, Miss...
Wertnor.
- Wesley, put your studies away and open up. - What gives?
Just open up, will you?
- Uh, you come with us. - What did I do?
Don't ask any questions, Wesley. Just do what she says, okay?
Right on schedule, Fido.
I've got a bone to pick with you, or should I say a biscuit?
You mustn't speak English. They'll spot us for sure.
Sprechen sie Deutsch, Murphy?
Bergman.
And Myrna Loy. Now they were movie stars.
Oh, I would've given anything
to have made one good "A" picture...
even if I didn't die in it.
You'll outshine them all, Veronica,
just as soon as we clear you of these monstrous charges.
Preliminary autopsy's no help.
Single bullet, entrance-exit wound through the heart.
Is it all right if we talk in front of her?
of course. She's lost in the stars.
With Veronica practically convicted of Howell's murder...
it seems everyone got exactly what they wanted.
Jennifer has her inheritance without the bothersome formality of her mother's death.
And Haver has a clear profit without having to spend a dime.
Veronica? When did you first meet Eddie Howell?
Oh, about, um,
two months ago.
when that nice Mr. Haver
asked me to grace his next production.
Two months ago she began to think somebody was trying to kill her.
And did you spend a lot of time with him?
Oh, yes. Hours and hours.
Why, he practically phoned me every day.
Wanted to know everything about me.
About my childhood...
and my love affairs...
and that whole beastly thing with Edgar.
Who's Edgar?
My late deceased husband.
But he was so interested.
Oh, it's a shame I had to plug the kid.
You know, good P.R.
Is very important in this business.
Seems odd.
Why would a man risk breaking into someone's house when he had access to them by telephone?
He might've been looking for something.
And if Howell spent all those hours talking to Veronica...
why is there only one sheet in her file?
Joseph Twayne. R.F.D. 49, Ventura.
Veronica, does the name, uh, Joseph Twayne ring any bells?
Mark's boy?
I'm afraid not.
Well...
They say Ventura's lovely this time of year.
The third shot is my cue.
That's Jennifer's car.
I've told her not to drive that fast.
Our timing in this case has been less than impressive.
The bullet went clean through. It's embedded in the chair.
You wanna bet the same gun that killed him killed Howell?
That's one wager I'd be delighted for you to win, Murphy.
Oh, dear God.
Who is it, Veronica?
The officer...
the policeman who was at the house the night that Edgar was shot.
he was hostile at first and so unbelieving of the story we told.
And then...
Mickey.
Mickey had a... had a talk with him...
downstairs in the parlor.
And after that, why, he was as sweet as pie.
He... He wrote the report for me...
and even helped me memorize it for the inquest.
he was...
he was very good at cuing me too.
I sailed right through it.
Did you see him after that?
Once. Uh, he came to the house...
had a drink with Mickey and went away smiling.
What story did you tell, Veronica?
well, you know. It was in all the papers,
for months it seemed. And then...
one day, like a storm cloud, it just went away.
And I could cuddle up with a nice hot rum...
and just forget all this awfulness.
You know, l...
I can't remember
why I switched from rum to tequila.
L... Well, I always liked rum better.
What story did you tell the night Edgar died?
well that, we, uh... Mickey and I, uh, had been...
Oh, and I really hated... hated...
I hated to tell a dirty lie like that.
But Mickey said we had to,
to protect, you know...
You said the two of you were together?
Well, in a motel, and when we got home...
well, there was poor Edgar already deceased.
But you weren't in the motel?
Oh, no.
I would never do something like that.
No matter how many times
Mickey tried to get me into one.
After all, I was a married woman. I had a daughter.
Poor Jennifer.
She was 13 when it happened.
He was a louse, Edgar was.
He'd beat up on that poor kid something fierce.
I tried to stop him,
but then he'd start whacking me around.
Where was Jennifer that night?
Home. With him.
Alone?
Mickey said we had to lie.
It was my gun.
And they would either blame me or...
I want to tell you something, Miss Holt.
Edgar had it coming.
In spades.
Ronnie, are you all right?
Just dusty, Mick. Have we got any rum?
Come inside.
Oh, you people are incredible.
You help my mother escape from a mental hospital,
and then you bring her back here?
This is where it began, Jennifer,
30 years ago.
Whoever killed Eddie Howell
also killed a man named Joseph Twayne.
and for the same reason...
your father's murder.
Afraid you have the wrong Kirk.
Murder is my mother's area.
She has three very reputable witnesses...
who can swear she was with them when Twayne was killed.
And those same witnesses saw your car
leave the murder scene this afternoon.
I've been in the house all day.
And besides, I don't know anybody named Twayne.
He investigated your father's death.
I was 13 years old.
You paid Twayne off, didn't you?
With a part of Edgar's insurance money.
Yes.
As the investigating officer...
he was free to devote all his energy to looking for a nonexistent brother...
and his 16-year-old sister.
Only in talking to your mother,
Howell began to piece together what really happened that night.
And he began to realize that the story your mother and Mr. Prentice told was a lie.
A lie concocted to protect a frightened, perhaps justified...
but, nonetheless, guilty 13-year-old.
You're as batty as my mother.
Jennifer!
Jennifer, I never wanted to believe it was you.
But, after all, who else could it have been?
You! You hated him.
There wasn't a week that went by the police weren't out to this house
to break up a donnybrook between dear old Mommy and Daddy.
You even shot at him before.
But I always missed.
Howell intended to write a book about the murder.
They seem painfully fashionable these days.
That's why he wanted to talk to you and Mr. Prentice.
You lured him here, probably with the promise to tell him everything.
Instead, you shot him and then dragged him into your mother's room.
When you can prove that, you give me a call.
There's an interesting bit of information from Howell's autopsy.
Seems the bullet passed clean through him...
not unlike your father's untimely demise.
Mind if we check your room for the slug?
Check every room in the house.
That's my room, Steele.
Oh, sorry.
Is there any reason we shouldn't go in there, Mr. Prentice?
Good place as any to start, eh, Mick?
- No! - You know, Mr. Prentice...
every time we mention Jennifer's name in connection with Howell...
we also mention yours.
And if you were Veronica's alibi the night her husband was killed,
then she was yours.
you mean where was Prentice the night Edgar became an unfortunate statistic?
As you've just pointed out, this is a particularly powerful weapon.
Puts a bullet right through a person.
Mickey!
Ronnie!
You're the one person I never wanted to hurt.
I just realized something, Mick.
You're as big a louse as Edgar.
Poor Prentice.
He was in love with Veronica...
from the moment he first fell off a butte for her in Waco Wendy.
Everything was fine as long as she didn't leave the house.
That's why he tried to frighten her into dropping Haver's movie
with those phony attempts on her life.
But when she began talking to Howell,
he was terrified their secret would come out.
That's why he put Howell's body in her room.
She'd be committed,
nobody would ever believe a word she said.
That's right.
You won't believe what just walked in.
Sorry I'm late. Just got back from the set.
Been running lines with Veronica.
She's doing a guest spot on The Love Boat. Wonderful part.
Explores the full range of her talents.
She falls down a funnel and dies.
Can I ask you something, Dimples?
Of course.
What made you go to Prentice's door?
Why, Laura, you said it yourself.
My infallible instinct.
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