08x19 - Quartet for a Blunt Instrument

[bunniefuu]

♪♪

I'm going as far
as L.A., if that'll help.

You offering me a ride?

It's better than looking
at miles of nowhere.

Hop in.

Waiting long?

I guess I don't present
a very reassuring picture.

Well, around here
any man without wheels

could be a thr*at
to public order.

It wasn't my feet
they were looking at.

How far are you going?

San Diego.

Wife and kids there.

I thought I'd make enough money
on my job in Santa Rosa

to send for 'em, but...

What happened to the job?

It d*ed.

Maybe you'd better let me out.

You in some kind of trouble?

No worse trouble
than I was born with.

It's too late to bail out now.

If you're not on the run,
just stay cool.

License, please.

Joe Mannix,
private detective from L.A.

Mm-hmm.

Are you two traveling together?

Must be.

We're riding in the same car.

What's your name?

Riggs.

Perry Riggs.

All right, Riggs,
come on out nice and easy.

Keep your hands
where we can see them.

Am I under arrest?

That's about it.

What's the charge?

m*rder.

Thanks for the ride.

Yeah.

Where'd you run into him,
Mr. Mannix?

Oh, I picked him up
a few miles back.

You ought to be more careful
who you pick up.

You may not have made it to L.A.

Hey, what's the case
against him?

He k*lled Walter Kurtz.

That's a charge,
that's not a case.

All right, Mr. Mannix,
let's keep it moving.

Say, you mind if I talk to him?

All right, but make it short.

Hey, looks like you might need
some help.

Yeah, about $ ,
in bail money.

Would you settle
for a private cop?

Right now I'd settle
for just about anything.

What makes them think
you did it?

Being in the right place
at the wrong time.

I used to work for the man
who was k*lled-- Walter Kurtz.

When I found him
with his head busted open,

I figured it was time
for me to move on.

Even though you weren't guilty?

Except for his wife
and his partners,

I was the only one
with a key to the lab.

You figured that was
enough reason to run?

That and my juvenile record--
as*ault with a deadly w*apon.

Who would believe me?

Would you?

Seems everybody lies
to private detectives.

Gets so you only listen
to the vibrations.

How do mine sound?

About - .

Okay, Mr. Mannix, that's it.

In a minute-- I'm not through
talking to my client.

Sorry, you'll have
to talk to him later.

What's in it for you, Mannix,

even if you prove
it wasn't Perry Riggs?

For a guy in your trade,
what do you get?

Couple of more days
of clean air.

That we got.

Here you go.

That's the body.

Head crushed in
with some heavy tool,

like the one we found
in Perry Riggs' bundle.

It's not conclusive,
but nowadays

juries don't need
a platoon of eyewitnesses.

What motive?

We're working on that.

Now, maybe
I can give you a hand.

Robbery maybe?

Now, did you find
anything on Riggs

that belonged
to the m*rder*d man--

A watch, wallet?

No, but sometimes a k*ller
panics, leaves empty-handed.

You know that.

Sure, Riggs panicked
and hitchhiked

down the main highway
in broad daylight

with the m*rder w*apon
tucked under his arm.

Come on, Sheriff,
let's talk about the real world.

Okay... sh**t.

For openers,
can you think of anyone

who stood to benefit
by Walter Kurtz's death?

Well, for the insurance money,

I suppose his wife
and maybe his three partners.

How much insurance did he have?

Million and a half,
I understand.

Not a bad benefit.

Not bad at all.

Except, at the time
of his death,

Mrs. Kurtz
and the three partners

were somewhere else
and accounted for.

No, wasn't anybody else
in the house except Perry Riggs.

They could have hired
a stand-in.

The next thing
you're gonna be telling me

is that the obvious suspect
is always innocent,

which is why we need
private detectives.

Hmm.

These partners of Mr. Kurtz--
partners in what?

A new patent for cars
to run on methanol.

Alcohol derived from coal.

Pretty good ace in the hole
for the next time

somebody cuts off the oil.

Supposed to be a whole lot
cheaper than gasoline, too.

Sounds like he had something.

So they figured...

which is why I suppose
they tried to raise

every penny they could get their
hands on to back the invention.

Now, if Kurtz had lived,

he'd have made them all
millionaires times over.

Now, you still think one of them
had a motive to k*ll him?

Perry.

You're a hard man
to convince, Mannix.

You still don't believe
I'm a loser?

So far your vibrations
are holding up.

Well, what is it going to take

to prove to them
that I didn't do it?

A voice from heaven?

Well, I'd settle for a lead

that won't make the local law
laugh out loud.

You think Mr. Kurtz's wife
or one of his partners

is going to come to you
with a signed confession, huh?

I'd settle for that, too.

Their word against a guy who was
in reform school at age ?

And black?

You believe in Santa Claus, too?

Well, uh...

why don't we start
with Mrs. Kurtz?

Strictly bad news.

Bad enough to k*ll her husband?

Maybe bad enough for him
to wish he was dead.

In what way?

Well, you see, Mr. Kurtz--

He had these high standards
for everything.

Maybe he finally figured
that she wasn't--

She couldn't measure up.

I'd hardly call that a motive

for Mrs. Kurtz to k*ll him,
would you?

I'd hardly call myself
an expert on m*rder.

Hmm.

I'm kind of new at this.

All I know is, cops got
to pin it on somebody

to make it come out even.

That's simple arithmetic.

That's the best
you can do for me, huh?

Mannix, did you come here
to try to help me,

or you just trying
to make yourself feel good?

Little of both, I guess.

Yes.

Uh, Mrs. Kurtz.

Who is it?

My name is Mannix.

I'm a private investigator.

I wonder if I could talk to you.

About what?

Your husband's death.

Do you work
for the insurance company?

No, uh, Perry Riggs.

♪♪

Come in, Mr., uh...
Mannix.

Thank you.

Perry Riggs.

Is business really that bad,
Mr. Mannix?

I mean, what do
you actually know

about this client
you're representing?

Well, I know he deserves
an even break.

Which, without you,
he wouldn't get.

He's in jail.

He needs somebody.

Ah,

Uh, would you care for a drink?

Not right now, thank you.

Isn't it amazing
how quickly alcohol evaporates

in a dry climate?

My husband Walter would have
found that unforgivable.

He was interested in alcohol

as a possible source
of power, you know.

Isn't that ironic?

In my family
it was always regarded

as a source of weakness.

Did you know
that your client has a record?

As a teenager, yes.

He told me himself.

Well, I don't suppose
that proves anything, does it?

E-Except a slight tendency
toward v*olence.

I take it you consider him
the prime suspect, too.

Only the obvious one.

What about
the less obvious ones?

You mean...

like my husband's partners
and myself,

all of whom are on the verge
of making a fortune?

Come on, let me show you.

This is it, Mr. Mannix.

This is Walter's world.

This is what he lived
and breathed for.

When I first met Walter,

he'd just come to California
from the dark side of the earth.

Forced labor camp
for eight years in Europe.

For doing what?

Oh,

thinking for himself,

refusing
to do m*llitary research.

You know, they never told him.

So we never knew.

My brother, Case,
that's Case Murcott,

he's something
of a mathematical whiz,

and he recognized Walter for
the genius he was right away.

If we were prepared to gamble,

not peanuts, but big money,

requiring partners

and sacrifices
and huge unsecured loans...

Which no bank would give.

Well, Mr. Mannix, in our
tolerant society,

banks aren't the only source
of high-risk capital.

No,

it all would have worked, too,

if only Walter hadn't...

What, Mrs. Kurtz?

d*ed.

But he was k*lled, and for what?

And you have absolutely
no idea of a motive?

No.

These partners
you were talking about...

Well, there's my brother, Case.

I told you about him.

And who else?

Well, uh,

Mr. Mannix, now who among us
would have been insane enough

to k*ll the goose
about to lay the golden egg?

I'd still like to talk to them.

That's Tony Stockwood.

He's the lawyer
for the whole thing.

He drew up
the partnership papers,

patents, everything.

Where do I find him?

Well, he has the penthouse suite
at the lodge.

And the other woman?

That's Holly Warlock.

She... found Walter's body
in the lab.

She runs a club up at the end
of Tigertail Road.

Holly's Barn, it's called.

A night club?

Well, it's not exactly
a night club,

and its' not exactly
a gambling club,

and it's not a massage parlor.

It's a little of...

it's a club.

Oh!

It's a little late
for gardening, isn't it?

Who are you?

Case Murcott.

Mrs. Kurtz's brother?

That's right.
What about you?

The name is Mannix;
I'm a private investigator.

Working for who?

Perry Riggs.

Aw, come on now, you kidding?

No.

Oh, yeah, yeah, I get it,
I get it.

You and sis
setting up the black man

to be tossed to the wolves.

That would be Wanda's style.

I always suspected
she had somebody lurking

in the background, but, uh...

But what?

Well, Walter's dead, isn't he?

How'd he get that way?

You think I'm stupid?

No.

There's an impression
going around

that Walter Kurtz was hit on
the head with a blunt instrument

like the one you were
trying out on me.

Uh, let's go to my place.

I think we could both
use a drink.

Me?

k*ll Walter?

You've got to be kidding,
Mannix.

It would be like k*lling myself.

You know how deep I am in hock?

With people who'd gladly break
both your legs

if you were just one day late
with paying the interest?

What made you think your sister
and I had plotted something?

I tell you I'm suspicious
of everyone.

Besides, she's always hated me.

Why?

Because I was
the family's golden boy.

Case Murcott, whiz kid,

and she was nothing
until she married Walter.

What about your, um,
other two partners?

They're in even deeper
than I am.

Of course, Holly's always had
a knack for landing on her feet.

But Tony Stockwood,

I wouldn't want to be
in his alligator shoes

for all the paper
on Wall Street.

Well, I plan on seeing him next.

A word of advice.

Don't come on
too strong with Tony.

I mean, me,

I'm just a good-natured
old slob,

but Tony now,

he's got some
very touchy friends,

if you know what I mean?

Hmm, touchy, huh?

About what?

Getting their hands
on a couple of million

that they advanced us in return
for a chunk of the action.

Take care that they don't, uh,

get the sudden wild notion
to blame you, Mannix.

D-Don't let go.

I swear,
I-I'll get you the money.

Just give me time.

Sorry, your time's run out.

How long do you think
the Juice Man's gonna wait?

He's getting older
all the time, you know.

I'll get the money, I swear,
don't let go.

Too late, Tony.

You're going out the hard way.

Bring him back!

That's all for now, baby.

Come on, come on back aboard.

Come on.

Are you Tony Stockwood?

Inside.

All right, one at a time.

Inside.

Who are you?

All right, get on the phone,
call the police.

Huh?

What for?

"What for"? They were about
to find out if you could fly.

Oh, no, um,

no, they were just trying
to scare me.

You know, um,

hang me out to dry.

Yeah, it's good
for the circulation.

You're not going
to call the police?

It would just get a whole lot
of people sore at me.

Oh, and right now,
they're just crazy about you.

I owe them
half a million dollars.

How do you expect them to feel?

Who are you, anyway?

A detective, private.

The name is Mannix.

What are you doing up here,
detective?

Same as you,
earning my social security.

You really want me
to let them go?

Of course I do.

You think I'm crazy?

Out.

One thing, Tony,

what do we tell the Juice Man?

He'll get his money.

Oh, you promise?

On your life?

As long as you've stuck
your nose in here, detective,

until we get paid,

your life's on the line
along with his.

Okay, it's all over.

Well, what are you waiting for,
the thanks-a-million number?

b*at it.

I've got a client in jail,
Perry Riggs.

I'd like him out.

Things are tough all over.

You and your partners made
a pretty good case against him.

He made his own case.

The fortune we put
into Walter's work.

We mortgaged our blood
to raise that money.

What do we do now?

Wait for the insurance money
to get you out of hock.

Insurance?

That's a sour joke.

Walter's dead,

and I'm about ready to
ask him to move over.

You really think
Perry Riggs k*lled him?

It couldn't have been
anyone else.

And you'd better pray
he confesses fast,

'cause those juice-collectors

are going to be crawling
all over you.

Money's a pretty serious thing
to them.

And don't think they won't know
where to find you.

I'll keep looking under my bed.

♪♪

Out of professional curiosity,

how did you find out
where I was staying?

You'd be surprised how many
people in this town

go out of their way
to keep us happy.

What do you figure I can
contribute to your happiness?

We'd like to make sure
Mr. Stockwood

collects his share
of the insurance money.

Are you going to try to pin

a m*rder rap
on one of the partners?

Are you afraid the Juice Man
won't get his money?

Not afraid, detective,

just concerned.

Well, now,
I have a client to protect.

The insurance company
can take care of itself.

I sure hope you mean that,
detective.

It can be a lonely feeling

having people
like us sore at you.

Mind if I have my g*n back?

Aw, I must have lost the clip.

Detective,

I'll remember that.

Hello?

Mr. Mannix?

This is Holly Warlock.

Does the name
mean anything to you?

It means something.

What can I do for you?

Well, I'm afraid
you can't do anything.

Oh, I mean, you could,

but I don't think
it would be healthy.

For you, I mean.

Well, why don't I try, anyway?

How good a sailor are you?

Well, I know
how to duck a boom.

No boom.

I'm all electric.

Meet me at the lake,
: sharp.

You, uh,

do know what I wanted
to talk to you about?

Of course.

Walter Kurtz's
unexpected departure

to a better land.

Who would stand
to benefit by his death?

Absolutely no one.

Except,
possibly his lovely wife.

Oh, but I think
even Wanda would have preferred

to get her hands
on all those millions, first.

Preferred it to what?

To having her freedom.

Or whatever passes for freedom

in that cash register brain
of hers.

Oh, I think she gladly

would have waited
just a few more weeks

until the engine
was demonstrated,

the royalty agreements signed.

Was it really that certain?

Detroit was doing
handstands to be first in line.

No, not even Wanda
would have been wacky enough

to k*ll him just yet.

I understand you found the body.

Mm.

Yes, and on the floor

in his lab,
looking very untidy.

Was there anyone else
around at the time?

I told the police.

Just as I came in,

I heard a man's footsteps
running out the back door.

Uh, how do you know
it was a man?

Well, it sounded
like a heavy foot

with-with rubberized soles.

The kind mechanics wear.

And, uh,
Perry Riggs is a mechanic.

That's right.

Oh, you must have
a very good ear.

- .

May I call you Joe?

Joe, the lab was guarded
like Fort Knox.

Now, except for the four of us,

Perry Riggs was the only one
with a key.

Why fight the obvious?

Well, that's what
private detectives are for.

Don't you think
I'm bearing up bravely?

Well, what do you have
to be brave about?

My club mortgage.

My life's savings
down the drain.

Possibly my last chance

to get out of the business
and turn respectable.

Perhaps even get married.

Well, I've heard rumors
that, uh,

some women manage to get married
even if they're not rich.

Is that a wise old saying,

or a red-hot suggestion?

I think we'd better turn back
before we get into deep water.

I'm used
to being in over my head.

Shoes?

Yeah. What kind of shoes
were you wearing

on the day of the m*rder?

These. I only got one pair.

Hmm.

Holly Warlock says she heard
footsteps running from the lab.

Rubber-soled shoes.

She thinks it was you.

Al right.

I was there in the lab.

And what were you doing?

I wanted to try out
this new cutting tool

I'd modified for the lathe.

You must be
a pretty good mechanic.

I am. At least,
Walter Kurtz thought so.

Anyway, I saw him lying there,
with his head all bashed in,

and I figured, with my record...

Yeah, a man running
from the scene of a m*rder

is apt to lose points
with the police.

Maybe I figured
it was so obvious,

even the local law
could solve it.

But once they had me, that meant
they could close the books.

I mean, why should they look
any further?

What was so obvious?

Mrs. Kurtz and her boyfriend.

Who's he?

I couldn't tell you.

But a couple of nights
before the m*rder,

I heard her talking to him
on the phone in the lab.

Now, she didn't know
I was there.

And I tried to ease out,
not to embarrass her.

She saw me and hung up fast.

Hmm. And what
were they talking about?

Could you tell?

No, I couldn't tell.

It was just...
just-just sweet talk.

I couldn't hear the words,

but I could tell
from the tone of her voice.

Like a honeybee ready
to light on a flower.

Mm-hmm.

♪♪

♪♪

Now you'd better put that down.
It may go off.

Why did you k*ll him?

I didn't k*ll him.
I was about to call the police.

Don't think
I won't use this if I have to.

Give me the sheriff's office.

Did you see anyone
running out of here?

No.

Oh, uh,
Sheriff Fielding, please.

Tell him it's urgent.
Joe Mannix.

I'll hang on.

Poor Case-- he wanted so badly

to be an important man, a VIP.

I guess
he just overreached himself.

Sheriff, I'm at the Kurtz house.

Case Murcott is dead.

Yeah, m*rder*d.

Oh, and Sheriff,
try to get here soon, will you?

So Mrs. Kurtz can stop waving
a g*n in my face.

Yeah.

You think it was your brother

who ransacked this place,
or a prowler?

You're the only prowler
I know about, Mr. Mannix.

♪♪- - clear.

You just walked in here,
and there he was?

What do you think,
I brought him with me?

Well, all I got is your word.

Right now, that might be worth
two cents on the dollar.

Well, now, does this look

like a professional piece
of work to you?

Oh, it's sloppy, but then
that might have been your way

of trying to cover your tracks.

What was I doing here?

Well, you're a private
detective, right?

That means
you'll work for anybody, right?

Wrong.

Mrs. Kurtz figured

you might have been hired
to find

whatever notes her husband left
about his invention.

By whom?

Some sheik who's worried
about his oil well?

By any number of people.

You going to book me?

No.

See, I checked you out.

Your buddies
at the LAPD don't think

you'd ever break the law
on purpose.

Not if there was an easier way
to cut corners.

Yeah, it pays to have friends.

You're liable to need
all the help you can get.

I'd like to see you
down at the station

tomorrow morning bright and
early to make out a full report.

Right after I've seen my client.

Another man dead,

and you still don't know
who k*lled Walter Kurtz.

Yeah, I'm still
one m*rder behind.

But I do know more today
than I knew yesterday.

Yeah, what's that?

That you couldn't have possibly
k*lled Case Murcott.

I won't fight you on that.

You know,
it seems kind of strange

that Walter Kurtz didn't leave
any notes about the invention.

There must have been hundreds
of experiments

and formulas involved.

What possible reason could
he have had to destroy them?

No reason.

His whole life was tied up
in that process.

He'd no more destroy those notes
than cut off an arm.

You think they were stolen?

No.

No, with him dead, they'd be
useless to anybody else.

How do you know that?

My lawyer told we.

Oh.

Now... what would
a public defender know

about organic chemistry?

No public defender.

I got a man out of Harvard Law,
a friend of Mr. Kurtz.

Who would that be?

Tony Stockwood.

Tony Stockwood.

He's going
to defend me for nothing.

Says he feels sorry for me.

Well, that's very generous
of him.

When did he come to see you?

This morning early.

What sort of questions
did he ask?

Nothing. Nothing special.

Except he wondered
if I could tell him anything

about Mrs., uh, Kurtz's
boyfriend.

Boyfriend, huh?

Now, uh, how would he know
about the boyfriend?

No idea.

Yeah.

Guard?

I thought you were going
to find out who he is.

I'm still trying.

Joe, you want to come along?

If we promise not
to make you walk the plank?

As long as you don't mind

if Mr. Stockwood and I discuss
our client along the way.

Our client?

Perry Riggs.

You're defending him?
Mm-hmm.

As of this morning.

You know, a man's entitled

to the best counsel he can get.
Don't you agree?

What are you advising him
to do, Tony--

Plead "no contest?"

Certainly not.

Well, what is your defense going
to be?

I'll decide that
when all the facts are in.

Oh, I thought they were.

Well, there are still
a few missing pieces.

Like, uh,
Mrs. Kurtz's boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

Wanda was playing around?

That's the impression I get.

Well, maybe he can lend us
a million and a half.

Well, now,
that's a lot of money.

You really need that much?

Well, just until
the insurance pays off.

That's what Tony and |
are trying to raise.

As life insurance for ourselves.

Holly, Holly, don't tell me

you're in the debt
to the Juice Man, too?

Yeah, well, you'd think

I'd know better, wouldn't you?

Now, maybe if you put me
in touch with him,

I could work something out.

You really do like the feeling

of thin ice
under your feet, don't you?

But it's also a great way
to catch cold... permanently.

Uh, like, uh, Case Murcott?

Case was an idiot.

The kind of man
whose only useful role in life

seems to be
to get himself m*rder*d.

What do you suppose he was
looking for in Kurtz's lab?

Well, the notes, obviously.

The plans, research, formulas.

Is that obvious, or...?

He could have been looking
for something else.

Like what?

What does it matter now?

For all we know,

those notes might be
the solution to everything.

That's ridiculous.

Maybe, but until
we do have a solution,

and it's all wrapped up,

there won't be
an insurance payoff,

which could make
the Juice Man very unhappy.

I get it now.

I see your game.

You're either trying
to score points

with the insurance company,

or shake us down,
'cause you know we're desperate.

Keep talking.

Who are you really working for,
Mannix?

A client who can't afford
a bus ticket to San Diego,

or the insurance company,

who've promised you
a fat payoff?

I'll let you know right after
I see the full autopsy report.

Uh, bon voyage.

♪♪

Hello, Detective.

What now?

Let's go.
“Where to?

Juice Man wants to see you.
Why?

He thinks you
really don't understand

how much of a nuisance
you're making of yourself.

Well, you're late, as usual.

What?

Up to a half hour ago
I wanted to see him, too,

but, uh, now I've lost interest.

He's interested enough
for both of you.

Move.

Found another clip.

♪♪

Why, Sheriff? I mean,
why would the Juice Man

be sweating b*ll*ts
to get me off this case?

I mean, what difference
does it make to the Juice Man

who k*lled Walter Kurtz
as long as he gets his money

from the insurance settlement?

Unless...

Unless what?

Unless there is no settlement.

Oh, what are you
talking about, Mannix?

Well, the insurance company
doesn't have

to pay off on certain deaths.

Yeah, death caused
by an act of w*r,

or flying in an unlicensed
aircraft-- so what?

You left out su1c1de.

Now, you're not trying
to tell me that Kurtz

clubbed himself to death,
are you?

Maybe he was dead
before he was clubbed.

Well, it was worth
a lot to somebody

to make it look like m*rder.

To make sure
the insurance company paid off.

It's the only way it adds up.

There's no such thing as
"the only way" in this business.

Maybe not, Sheriff, but if
I were sitting in your chair,

I'd order an autopsy report
with all the trimmings...

just in case.

I don't know how to tell you
this, Mr. Mannix, but, well...

What's the problem?

My lawyer says I got
to do what he tells me.

Uh-ho, and what
did Mr. Stockwood tell you?

Not to talk to anybody.

Especially me?

I don't know, could be.

What's he afraid I'll find out,
why Walter Kurtz k*lled himself?

You mean he was a su1c1de?

Yeah, and the minute I prove it,
you're off the hook--

Unless your lawyer
doesn't really want you off.

Then why would he go through
the motions of helping me?

Maybe he wants to know
just how much you knew

about the mysterious boyfriend.

Okay, what do you want to know?

Why did Walter Kurtz
commit su1c1de?

No way.

He was always too easy-going,
too trusting,

almost like a kid.

Maybe that's it-- a man like
that, if he felt betrayed...

Hey, hey, you know, it wouldn't
have been the first time.

He told me
when he was in Europe,

a group of people
that he trusted

turned him in
to the secret police.

But still, after he got here,
he went on trusting people.

Like his wife.

He loved that woman.

He told me once,
life without her

wouldn't be worth
waking up in the morning.

Maybe that's why
he k*lled himself,

because he couldn't face
one more betrayal.

Could that be it?

Nah. A man
k*ll himself over a woman?

A real man
gets his revenge first.

And Walter Kurtz
was one real man.

But he did get revenge.

He destroyed his notes,
then k*lled himself.

That meant no invention,
no millions in royalties,

and no insurance payoff.

Meaning bad news
for the interested parties.

And meaning somebody
had to make it look like m*rder.

Yeah.

Guard?

Where you going?
To, uh...

throw out some bait.

What are you trying to catch?

Some hungry fish.

Uh, what do you want?
Oh, I was just wondering

if they had you out there
hanging by your ankles again.

I'm laughing.

Well, then I guess
you'll really break up

when I tell you why I'm here.
Is that right?

I found a letter;
it's up for sale.

What kind of letter?

Written by Walter Kurtz
just before he d*ed.

Hey, you suppose that's
what somebody was looking for

when they tore up his lab--
not the research notes,

but a letter announcing plans

for his immediate
future-- su1c1de?

You're out of your head.
Now, go on, get out of here.

The price is $ , --
until tomorrow morning.

And then what?

Well, then I'll probably take it
to the insurance company.

I'm sure they
won't... be exactly heartbroken

to keep a million and change
in the old till.

Where's the letter?

You think about it.

And but think fast, huh?

Hang on a minute.

Supposing I can find
someone who's interested--

Where could they talk to you?

Well, uh...

why don't we make it
downstairs in the billiard room,

tonight at : ?

$ , -- nothing larger
than fifties, hm?

♪♪

You're the one I didn't expect.

I didn't expect
to be here myself.

I was sent.

By the Juice Man?

The Juice Man's a flabby
senior citizen with diabetes,

arthritis and bundles of dirty
cash in need of laundering.

So you obliged him
by using your club as a drop.

For once, I tried to be smart.

Too smart.

Tony and Case came to me
for working capital,

and I bought in.

Making the Juice Man
your senior partner.

With your life as collateral.

It was a gamble.

But, then, what isn't?

It would have
paid off handsomely

if Wanda hadn't started
going ape over some guy.

And Walter Kurtz couldn't
stand one more betrayal,

especially from his wife.

You figured out the rest.

That the deadliest revenge
Kurtz could think of

was to pull the plug on himself.

Question:

what was Case Murcott doing
in the lab when he was k*lled?

Looking for a su1c1de note?

With which he
could blackmail Wanda

for her share
of the insurance money.

Mm.

So Wanda and the boyfriend
got rid of him.

Nice family.

She had reason to be desperate.

I'm desperate.

The possible existence
of a su1c1de note

put all our heads on the block.

Mm.

Joe...

if you could see your way clear
to tearing up the note...

it would mean everything to me.

Who sent you to ask me that?

Look behind you.

Well, the loving couple,
I presume.

Where's the letter, Mr. Mannix?
Oh, I'm sorry about that.

I'll have the letter,
if you don't mind.

There's one little problem,
Mrs. Kurtz. What?

There isn't any letter.

But Tony told me what
you were asking for it.

I'm ready to pay.

The way you and Stockwood here
paid your brother

when you found him
searching the lab?

Case got what he deserved.

He was trying to destroy Wanda.

Mm. And, uh... your husband,

did he get what he deserved?

You know perfectly well
I didn't k*ll him.

No, no, he saved you
that little job.

But he did get
the last laugh, didn't he?

You're finished, both of you.

'Cause your brother was k*lled.

But you're
the only one who knows that.

Exactly.

Well, what are you waiting for?

What about her?

Holly?

Oh, she'll keep silent.

She needs the money.

Well, go on!

Joe, look out!

Hold it!

Well, what kept you, Sheriff?

The full autopsy report
came in just as I was leaving.

You were right, Mannix--

Kurtz was dead
before he got hit.

Fistful of barbiturates.
Yeah.

Then these two doctored him
to look like a m*rder victim

so they could collect
the insurance money

and keep themselves alive.
That's what it looks like.

And if, uh, Case Murcott,
their partner,

hadn't gotten underfoot,

there wouldn't have been
a m*rder at all,

and everyone would have lived
happily ever after.

Except, of course,
for Perry Riggs.

All right, get them out of here.

What about
Miss Warlock over here?

She in on it?
Uh, no, no.

She was just under the g*n.

Thanks, Joe.

Well, what do I say

when the Juice Man
comes around for his money?

I don't think he will.

Money involved in a m*rder case,

and, uh, the risk of his
being named as an accessory--

I think he'll be more than happy

to write it off
as a capital loss.

Want to buy half share
in a boat?

Mm.

I don't think
I could afford the interest.

No interest required--

Except in me.

Well, think about it;
I'll be here.

So long, Holly.

About that ride
you offered me the other day,

is it still open?

Well, uh...

I'll risk it if you will.

Get in!