12x11 - Unwilling Witness

[bunniefuu]

Tonight on m*rder, She Wrote.

This is a subpoena to appear
before the Federal Grand Jury.

If Mrs. Fletcher calls again, would
you please get in touch with me?

Well, first of all,
she's got to catch me.

Are you trying to
give me a stroke?

Paige has a right to be afraid.

Three words come to mind.
Shredding, erasing and speed.

Would either of you have seen a
woman by the name of Jessica Fletcher?

What's going on,
Mr. Logan, is m*rder.

But I've never met the
president of the United States.

You are in contempt of
this Federal Grand Jury.

Was kidnapping my
father your errand?

If this is a crisis meeting,
why isn't Doug Fremont here?

He said he had an
appointment out of the office.

Figures. In business school,

Doug was voted "Most Likely to
Bail at the First Sign of Trouble."

Now, what trouble?

We are a respected company.

We may have overlooked
a couple of regulations.

It happens all the time.

Be sure to tell that to the Securities
and Exchange Commission.

No, I'm afraid this
is about certain

irregularities with many
of our mutual funds.

Mason, you never sugarcoat
the facts. Where do we stand?

On the deck of the Titanic, rapidly
approaching a very large iceberg.

Take your pick.

Insider trades, improper
filings, unlawful margins, fraud...

And if they start asking
the right questions,

somebody is gonna have
to go down with the ship.

Our attorneys should be
here now. Where are they?

Well, I suspect they're
conferring with their attorneys.

Oh, come on, please.

Excuse me, but I've
got this distinct feeling

that our CEO is trying
to avoid biting the b*llet.

What about it, Paige? Come on.

Reed, Reed, wait a minute.

Paige has a right to be afraid.

So have I.

Neither of us have enough time
left to spend any of it behind bars.

Jail? You're serious.

The Grand Jury is serious.

But as board chairman,
I give you my assurance

that Logan Investment Services

will devote whatever
resources are necessary to...

To protect all of us.

There's nothing to worry about.

Dad, I hate to interrupt.

You got a call from my friend?

Yeah, the Feds are gonna
be here in about five minutes.

I have a freight
elevator waiting.

Um...

Damn, I didn't think
it would be this quick.

Well, gentlemen and ladies, while
I don't wish to be quoted on this,

three words come to mind.
Shredding, erasing and speed.

I also suggest we all
take the rest of the day off.

You know, when I was a
kid in the numbers racket

and the cops pulled a raid,

I used to just
swallow the slips.

Unfortunately, life has
gotten more complicated.

Spread out and
check all the offices.

Be firm, but polite
with the secretaries.

I may need them as witnesses.

Miss, I'm Assistant US
Attorney, Annette Rayburn.

What's your job with
Logan Investment Services?

I'm vice president.
Tiffany Beckman.

Good, then you'll want
to see this warrant.

It enables me to conduct a
search of all files, computer disks

and hard copy relating to all

past and present securities
trading by this company.

Tell Mason Logan
I want to see him.

Mr. Logan isn't in.

Perhaps you'd like to come
back tomorrow, or the next day?

Careful, sweetie.

I can have you whimpering in a paddy
wagon before you can spell swindle.

Now, you go tell your CEO

that the a* just fell
on his neck by default.

Great.

The raid is in
progress at this minute

in the Wall Street offices of
Logan Investment Services.

It has been learned
that Douglas Fremont,

an executive vice president
of Logan Investment Services,

who was scheduled to
appear before a grand jury,

has fled to Argentina.

Stay tuned for further...

Hello?

Yes, hello. This
is Jessica Fletcher.

I just heard some unsettling
news on the television

and I have a question about
some mutual fund shares

that I recently purchased
through Douglas Fremont.

Ma'am, this is a US Marshal.

Everyone is busy right now.

I suggest you call your
lawyer and get in line

to sue the pants off
this bunch of crooks.

Thank you.

Duffy, I don't remember
inviting the press.

I saw your motorcade arrive.

Care to give me a
statement about...

Out. Now.

Wait a minute.

You, as federal prosecutor, are
supposed to uphold the public's right to...

Officer, if he's not out in
20 seconds, throw him out.

Did you get it? Get what?

The Hong Kong file, of course.

Did you think I wouldn't
know why you went back?

This can make us very, very
rich. Are you with me, babe?

All the way. Just
don't call me babe.

Mr. Corbin. Hmm?

I was so hoping
I'd run into you.

Do you have time
for a few questions?

Well, as a matter
of fact, Miss...

Ms. Rayburn. Rayburn.

I have an appointment
that I'm already late for.

Well, then, please accept
this with my compliments.

It's a subpoena to appear
before the Federal Grand Jury.

You'll find it's all in order.

Your Advice of
Rights and so forth.

And I'd also appreciate having a
look at the contents of your briefcase.

Just a minute.

I'm just as shocked by
these allegations as anyone.

And I have nothing to hide.

But until I've had the opportunity
to conduct my own inquiry,

I don't see how I can be of any
use to you and your investigation.

Ms. Rayburn?

You don't get it,
do you, Mr. Corbin?

When your chairman of
the board, Mason Logan left,

you became the designated goat.

Mason Logan is my friend.

Really?

Well, wouldn't a friend have left
room for you in his stretch limo?

The office is closed today.

I'm sure Mason will be
in his office tomorrow.

Just like Douglas Fremont.

What are you talking about?

I spoke to his wife.

He left in the middle of the night,
without even saying goodbye to her.

She thinks Mason
Logan scared him away.

That's nonsense.

Logan and I go back 30 years.

Yes, and he's counting
on your loyalty, Mr. Corbin.

He's hoping that
you'll take your silence

to prison with you
to protect a friend.

Now, wouldn't that be foolish
if you could save yourself?

Shall we talk?

Lou, please come in.

Thank you.

I'm really sorry to bother
a busy lawyer with this,

but it is so frustrating
not to get an answer.

Please, sit down. Thank you.

Apparently there's nobody home
today at Logan Investment Services.

But I did find out enough to make
me glad that I'm not a customer

and sorry that you are.

How much are
you in for, Jessica?

Well, only the price of a few shares
in the Pacific Rim Mutual Fund.

I bought them for my
grand-niece's birthday.

That's a shame.

I had given her this
pep-talk about investing

and how it drives the
economy and she was thrilled.

And now, as I understand,
the shares are worthless.

It's looking that way.

I doubt I can get your
money back, but I'll put in for it.

There anything else?

What am I going
to tell that little girl?

Back on the juice again, Dad?

Am I having a drink?

Yes!

And I assume that means
that your little visit is over.

You come home for 60 minutes,

spend 58 of them upstairs in
your old room, picking out a dress.

Why do you keep
your clothes here?

I've told you, I have
a very small closet

and I can't fit all
my clothes in it.

Now, what shall we talk
about? Your business?

No, no, I've already heard
about that on the news.

And so have all the other
teachers in the school.

Not to mention the
parents of my students.

You teach a bunch
of little hoodlums.

No, I teach a bunch of kids so
they don't become hoodlums.

Or even white-collar criminals.

Nice talking to you, Dad.

Maria, I've been thinking, you'd
be better off if I cut you loose.

Give me your key back.

My key?

You don't need it.
You've got your own place.

Thank you.

You won't have to
deal with me anymore.

You think that's
why I'm doing this?

Take the rest of
your clothes with you.

Give them to the Salvation Army.

Bye, baby.

At least you're out of this.

Paige, this is a wild guess.

You're drunk.

I'm just trying to find
out who my friends are.

You don't leave a friend
to take the rap, Mason.

They can find me anytime
with no trouble at all.

They're saving me
for last. For dessert.

They're making their
case on what you told them.

I swear to God! I haven't
told them anything.

They're going to force me to
testify. What can I do, Mason?

My lawyers are working on it.

It's a dream of a defense team.

They're building a paper wall around
us. So, don't you go off the deep end.

You and I know they're going
to ask me about Hong Kong.

I think our foreign partners
would take a very dim view

of anything you might
reveal about that.

You'd stay a lot healthier if you
just did some time in Lexington.

Are you trying to
give me a stroke?

No, I'm trying to talk
some sense into you

because there's no way
that Grand Jury or the SEC,

or anybody else who can hurt
us, knows about Hong Kong.

So, you just keep your mouth
shut. And you stay off the bottle.

I'll get you out of
this, Paige. I promise.

Yeah.

How could he throw you out
when you don't live at home?

All I know is, I suddenly
felt like an orphan

instead of only half an orphan.

Hello?

That little job? It's
become a necessity.

I told you it would.

He'll be at the townhouse.

I understand.
I'll take care of it.

I'm sorry, honey. I'm gonna
have to winkle out on you.

I've got an errand to run.

Oh. How about later?

I don't know how
long it's gonna be.

It's okay, I'll be awake.

You've got an early
class in the morning.

I said I'll be awake.

I'll be there.

Uncle Paige, it's Nick.

Damn!

Come on, Paige, I
know you're in there.

Uncle Paige?

Come on, Paige, open
the door. I'm here to help.

Hello?

Hello?

I just thought
you'd like to know

the Attorney General
is hopping mad.

Why? Because of my little
excursion into the marketplace?

No, the big emotional outburst

came with the news of your
star witness' disappearance.

Douglas Fremont's extradition from
South America is already underway.

Good luck. Besides,
that's old news.

I'm talking about his
replacement, Paige Corbin.

Well, I'm waiting for
the punch-line, Johnny.

I can't believe you
haven't heard yet.

Corbin vanished from
his townhouse last night.

Are you so terrifying to your
staff they don't tell you anything?

Don't be ridiculous.

No, Annette, I don't
think I need to remind you,

but I will because I care.

Oh, give me a break, Johnny.

Fremont or no, Mason Logan
will buy his way out of anything.

So what it comes to is, without
Corbin, you've got no case.

Followed very shortly
by no career, unless...

Unless I decide to cut my losses
and settle for middle-management fish.

Annette, you know very well there's
always a big downside potential,

taking on these heavyweights.

Johnny, that's a game I
decided to play a long time ago.

I'll take my chances.

Now, don't you have
somewhere else to go?

On behalf of the
Police Charities Fund,

J.B. Fletcher will be signing her latest
novel in the second floor squad room.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.
My grandmother will be thrilled.

She's been reading your
books since she was a little girl.

How nice, Sergeant.

My great-great-grandpa
used to read your books

in front of a fireplace
with Abraham Lincoln.

How are you doing, Jessica?

I'm holding up, Shawn.

Oh, make it out to
Maggie, please. Okay.

Oh, I'm afraid that's me.

Riley. What have you got?

Okay, 10 minutes.

Well, I got to go to work. Another
grand jury witness vanished last night.

Guy named Corbin.

Logan Investment Services?

Yeah. Apparently someone broke
into his townhouse and hauled him off.

Well, give my regards to Maggie.

I will. She's gonna
love this. Thank you.

Uh, could you make that out,
"To Bill Morgan, I forgive you."

That's an unusual inscription.
Why do you need forgiving?

For this, ma'am.

See, I'm a US Marshal

and this is a subpoena to appear
before the Federal Grand Jury.

Oh, thanks for the autograph.

Jessica, I made a discreet
inquiry into the Grand Jury's agenda

and was struck by a coincidence.

They're looking
into the ransacking

of Logan Investment
Services' mutual funds.

Now, has anyone there
returned your calls?

Well, only a recorded voice

saying that due to the number
of clients who have been calling,

it might be a few days
before they get back to me.

Now, about this subpoena,

all I did was to buy some
stocks for a 10-year-old girl.

Now, why should
they want me to testify?

I have no idea, Jessica,
but I have to warn you,

the prosecutor, Annette Rayburn,

is a very methodical,
determined lady.

One tough cookie.

Apparently you
know her quite well.

Actually, we were
very close in law school.

When we broke up,

I had what would have been
our engagement ring in my pocket.

Now we merely nod politely
in courthouse corridors.

Oh, my. And I was
just about to ask

if you could approach
her personally and explain

that I have almost nothing to
do with that dreadful company.

Why don't I give it a try? My love
story always did need an ending.

This might be it.
I'll call you later.

Okay.

Where is he, Nick?
What did you do with him?

Me? What is the matter with you?

The police say he's been
missing since last night.

Somebody broke his door down.

You left me last
night to run an errand.

I waited up for
you till 4:00 a.m.

You never showed
up, you never called.

Was that it, Nick?

Was kidnapping my
father your errand?

And then you couldn't face me?

Now, 24 hours ago
you were telling me

you never wanted
to see him again.

Well, I guess I care, okay?

Tell me where he is.

Look, for now, it's
better if you don't know.

Trust me.

Annette, can I have a moment?

Why, Lou, I can't believe this.

Strange, isn't it? Seems
like we're in a time warp.

Fifteen years wiped out.

Not that you haven't done
well, you have. Congratulations.

Well, you look like
you're doing all right.

You married?

No, I could never find a
lady with the right sized finger.

You still knock me out, Annie.

You are the only person
who ever called me Annie.

I assume you're
here on business.

A client who is also a
friend. Jessica Fletcher.

She was served with one of your
subpoenas and she can't imagine why.

She doesn't have to know
why. She just has to be there.

For old time's sake,
how about telling me why.

For the same reason
we broke up, Lou.

Because I wanted it to happen.

I thought we broke up because
you were afraid to be happy.

Goodbye, Lou. I am very busy.

I'm sorry I spoiled
your morning.

Maybe I'll see you again in
another 15 years, Annette.

Mrs. Fletcher, how many
mystery novels have you written?

My 23rd was published this week.

That's very impressive.

It must be difficult to
come up with new stories.

Well, sometimes.

I mean, I'm always
meeting people

who are eager to share
their mystery ideas with me.

Is that why Paige Corbin telephoned
you the night he disappeared?

To share an idea for a mystery?

No, I mean...

Why did he call you?

He didn't.

I don't know Paige Corbin.

This is a telephone
company log of the phone calls

that Paige Corbin
made that night.

The final call was at 9:42 p.m.

It is to a Manhattan number.

Mrs. Fletcher, do you
recognize this number?

It's my number, yes. But...

Yes. Let the record
show that the number is

area code 2-1-2-1-2-4-7-1-9-9.

Why did Paige Corbin
call you, Mrs. Fletcher?

I have no idea, Ms. Rayburn.

I didn't know the man

and I'm sure that the phone
company log is mistaken.

Here is a partial
list of customers

for Logan Investment
Services in New York.

Would you please read the second name
on the list so that the jury can hear you?

Jessica Fletcher.

Do you still insist that you
do not know Paige Corbin?

I also own government bonds,

but I've never met the
president of the United States.

And do you still deny that you received
a phone call that night at 9:42 p.m.?

Wait, there was a call.

I'd been working
late with an editor

and I stopped at
an all-night grocery.

The phone was
ringing when I got home.

I answered it just
as the caller hung up.

Doesn't that record show that
the call ended immediately?

Yes, it does.

For the record, its
duration was eight seconds.

So, I never spoke to the man.

Mrs. Fletcher, as I'm sure you
know, Paige Corbin is missing.

Possibly the
victim of foul play.

He is also a material witness in a federal
investigation of massive proportions.

As a student of mystery writing,

are you aware of the device
wherein a phone caller,

in order to send a signal,

hangs up on the other party
as soon as they answer?

Yes. Yes, of course I am, but...

Mrs. Fletcher, you have one last
chance to answer this question truthfully.

If you do not, you will
be charged with contempt.

Think carefully
before you answer.

Paige Corbin called your
telephone number that night.

We know this for a fact.

We have proof.

Why did he call you?

What message was he
conveying by doing so?

Look, I don't know how many
ways I can tell you that I don't know.

And frankly, at this point,

I'm tempted to take the Fifth
Amendment and refuse to answer.

It's too late for that.

You have already
waived that privilege

by answering the
other questions.

Mrs. Fletcher, I am
ordering you to answer.

There's nothing I can say.

Very well.

You are in contempt of
this Federal Grand Jury.

I am sending you to Judge
Morrison for a contempt hearing,

at which time, you may or
may not decide to cooperate.

It looks like Paige
Corbin skipped town.

Leaving us stuck with
grand jury subpoenas.

Well, he could be under wraps.
With his dear old friend protecting him.

Or he could be hiding from that friend
who wants him deader than road-k*ll.

Or he could be dead already.

Reed, what will we
tell the Grand Jury?

That our CEO and our board
chairman kept us out of the loop?

Exactly and then
we're off the hook.

Listen, if Mason Logan was that
frightened to have his buddy k*lled,

then the Hong Kong files are gonna be
worth a lot more to him than we thought.

Here's to more.

I see you're admiring my
photography. I'm Ted Duffy.

Who cares?

I've got some others
you might prefer.

I think I captured the
moment quite nicely, don't you?

You were there
at Mason's office.

Uh-huh.

All right, so you took
my picture. Big deal.

It enlarged really
well. I'm so proud.

Oh, my God! We can't
let anyone see these.

That's the general idea. Well,
you can keep those as a souvenir.

The negatives are
on sale for $10,000.

No, wait, wait, wait. Only 10?
How would you like $50,000?

I'm as greedy as the
next guy. Spell it out.

Use your street rat connections
to locate Paige Corbin

before the police
and Feds find him.

What are you gonna do? Squeeze
him along with Mason Logan?

Well, that's my business.

But don't worry,
you'll get your story

and some walking-around cash.

For that kind of cash,
I'll find Jimmy Hoffa.

Lou, you are a magician.
How in the world...

It was nothing, Jessica.

First, I summoned all the
legal skills in my command

and then I took another
look at your subpoena

and I realized it was invalid
because they neglected

to include the required
Advice of Rights.

It's a little form the Department
of Justice insists that they provide.

It tells you things like the fact that
if you get asked a tough question,

they have to let you step
outside the Grand Jury room

to confer with your
attorney. Things like that.

I mean, that would have
been such a big help.

Anyway, thank you.

And thank heaven
that nightmare is over.

Don't be too sure.

If I know Annette Rayburn, you
can expect to be served again

and this time
she'll get it right.

You mean, I'll find myself
in the same Catch-22?

Lou, what is her problem?

You have to understand.

What makes her such
a tenacious prosecutor

is that it's all so
personal to her.

Like she's on a mission
to nail the world's bad guys.

As long as I've known her.

Oh, and she's convinced
that I'm one of them.

Well, I don't think so.

What do you mean?

Well, first of all,
she's got to catch me.

And in the meantime, I'm
just going to have to find out

why Paige Corbin
phoned my number.

It's amazing. They
fixed the door already.

I've been waiting six
months for my landlord

to replace the float
in my toilet t*nk.

Where was Mr. Corbin when
he dialed my phone number?

In here.

The phone's on the desk.

Hmm. I wonder if my
phone number is in here?

Uh, excuse me.

May I help you?

Lieutenant Riley, I'm Annette
Rayburn, Assistant District Attorney.

Your office told me
that 45 minutes ago

you got a call
from J.B. Fletcher.

That's right. We met for coffee.

They also told me
that you're friends.

Did she happen to mention
that we're trying to find her

to serve her with a summons
to appear before the Grand Jury?

Another one?

Don't con me, Lieutenant.
She's avoiding my people.

Do you know where she is?

Not at the moment, no.

Now look, Ms. Rayburn, I'm right in
the middle of something here, so...

Lieutenant, you could get into a lot
of trouble lying to a federal prosecutor.

Tell me.

Now, look, you want us to
find this Corbin guy, don't you?

If Mrs. Fletcher calls again, would
you please get in touch with me?

Absolutely.

I did not lie.

From where I was at that moment,

I didn't know where
you were exactly.

Well, I appreciate it, Shawn.
Look, I think that this may explain

how Mr. Corbin
happened to call me.

Look, the first four digits of this
emergency number are the same as mine.

1-2-4-7.

And this card has my
last three numbers, 1-9-9.

That's it.

Wait a minute. Am I
missing something?

Suppose the noise at the door distracted
Paige Corbin while he was looking up

the number that
he wanted to call.

He dialed the first four
numbers on this card,

then turned toward the noise,

unaware that the wheel moved
and the next card dropped.

He finished dialing the last
three numbers of the second card.

Well, son-of-a-g*n! Then
you were a wrong number.

Now we need to find
out who he was calling.

May I take a message?

Hold please.

It seems to be an
answering service.

Yes, ma'am.

Can you tell me whose
number I've reached?

No, I can't.

Well, what's the
name of your service?

Got the Message. Ma'am, would
you like to leave a message?

Thank you, no.

Got the Message. I'll get a
warrant and search their records.

But that still leaves us without a
clue as to what happened to Corbin.

Or who figured to profit
from his disappearance.

You said that his daughter,
Maria, wasn't much help.

Nada. On top of which,
she's going with the son

of Logan Investment Services'
board chairman, Mason Logan.

She wouldn't even
tell us how to find him.

Name's Nick.

Oh, here, got the old man.

SoHo Storage. That's strange.

I mean, SoHo Storage should
be among the "S"s, not the "L"s.

Unless...

SoHo Storage stands for Logan.

Somebody slept here.

Well, there's no one here now.

I'm afraid that's not true.

You looking for me?

Who are you? What is going on?

What's going on,
Mr. Logan, is m*rder.

The last time I saw him alive
was when I went out for lunch.

Where did you eat?
Who cares where he ate?

Somebody might
remember seeing him.

It doesn't matter where he ate.

Okay.

You went to his townhouse last
night to kidnap him. He puts up a fight...

No. I went there to try to
talk him into coming with me.

He got scared, he
wouldn't open his door.

Look, his bags
were already packed.

That adds up.

We checked the call he made
before he phoned Mrs. Fletcher.

It was to a limousine
service, to take him to JFK.

Has the Fletcher woman
called you since we spoke?

No.

Where were you gonna take him?

Here for a day or so,
then out of the country.

To protect your father
from prosecution.

Are you also willing
to go to prison for him?

I don't think I'm going to
answer any more questions.

You will when I bring you
in front of the Grand Jury.

In the meantime, pal, you're
under arrest for suspicion of m*rder.

Oh, come on. Now, if I
wanted to m*rder the man,

why would I feed him and
put him up for the night?

Can anybody tell me that? And
why would I have come back here?

It was you, wasn't it?

You k*lled my father, or had
your own son do it for you.

Maria, Paige and
I, we were friends...

Save it, all right?

You'd set him
up to take the fall.

Then he changed his mind
and that meant he had to die.

And now you're protecting Nick.

You don't understand, but, look,

I've got to go, so if
you'll excuse me...

Not before we've had a
chance to talk, Mr. Logan.

My name is Jessica Fletcher.

You're Paige Corbin's
daughter, aren't you?

I saw your picture
in his townhouse.

I'm sorry about what happened.

Thank you.

Shortly before he left the
townhouse, or was abducted,

he inadvertently dialed
my phone number.

Now, the number that he
intended to call was 1-2-4-7-5-2-3.

It's an answering service
called Got the Message.

He was trying to leave
a message for someone?

Mmm-hmm.

I don't know,
either, Mrs. Fletcher.

Look, I apologize for any
inconvenience all this has caused you.

But now, if you
will excuse me...

Not yet, Mr. Logan.

Look, I have been
subpoenaed, jailed.

I'm currently evading
a process-server

and a federal prosecutor is convinced
that I am part of a criminal conspiracy.

And now there's been a m*rder,

in which your son
happens to be a suspect.

I'm not leaving
until I get answers.

Yes, ma'am, as you wish.

I went into some old newspaper
files on Internet this afternoon.

About 30 years ago, the
SEC was investigating you

and your company for illegally
dipping into customer accounts.

You?

That investigation was dropped.

Why don't you tell Maria why?

The SEC agent in charge was
k*lled in a terrible automobile accident.

His car caught fire.

All the notes on the
case went up in flames.

Along with their
spurious case against me.

But now, what does any of this got to
do with Paige Corbin's m*rder, anyway?

Well, that's what I'm
here to ask you, Mr. Logan.

All I know is, now they're
coming after us again

and it's cost me the life of
the best friend I've ever had.

Now, does that
answer your question?

I'm not sure, Mr. Logan.
But thank you.

Excuse me. Yes?

Mr. Logan, there's a US
Marshal coming in to see you.

Okay, Mr. Logan,

I'm placing you under
arrest on this bench warrant,

for failure to appear before a
Federal Grand Jury hearing.

Oh, Marshal, I'm afraid I'm not
gonna be able to go with you,

because, as my attorney is no doubt
making clear to Ms. Rayburn as we speak,

I'm due to check in at
University Hospital in...

Oh, my goodness!

In 20 minutes for spinal
surgery first thing tomorrow

and I suspect it'll probably
be a waste of time, but...

All right, all right, all right.
I'll check with the office.

Listen, would either of you have seen a
woman by the name of Jessica Fletcher?

All right, Duffy.

All right.

Before Reed gets here,
this is what it's about.

He offered you $50,000 for the
negatives and the information.

Right.

I'll double it if you bring
me the Hong Kong disk.

Me take it off Reed?

What's on it? No,
wait, don't tell me.

Secret accounts
in Far East banks

where Corbin and
Logan kept their illicit gain.

In the right hands,
my hands, power.

That kind of power must
be worth a lot to you.

We can talk about
that later, at my place.

Sorry, babe.

Is my take on you wrong?

Not at all. It's just that Reed
is a very dangerous man.

The late Paige
Corbin is proof of that.

Funny. I thought you might
have been responsible.

Or it could have been you,

which is an even better reason
not to play your little game.

What a delicious sense of humor.

Reed, darling, Duffy's
been entertaining me.

You wouldn't be hitting on my
woman, now, would you, Duff?

The thought never
entered my mind, Reed.

And what kind of day have
you been having, darling?

So far, lousy. I've
lost a good friend.

But if Mason Logan
survives his surgery,

well, the rest of the week
promises to be very rewarding.

Here's to Hong Kong.

Look, it's not my decision.
I'm just the messenger.

Washington wants the
plug pulled on this as of now.

Johnny, no. I'm getting close.

I know I'll be able to
indict before this is over.

Indict who? They figure with
Corbin dead and Logan iffy,

you've got no one
to prosecute, Annette.

They don't want
egg on their faces.

Listen, I have all the middle-management
people under subpoena,

just like Washington wanted.

Reed Harding, Tiffany
Beckman, three or four more.

What about the novelist,
that Fletcher woman?

Well, we still haven't
caught up with her.

But when we do, she's
going to sit in a cell

until she tells me the truth.

Johnny, please.

These people are crooks!
They're going to walk unless...

Look, I need your
help. 24 hours.

Okay. Okay, but that's my limit.

I'm not going to fall on
my sword for you, Annette.

Thanks, Johnny.

Traffic detail said they didn't keep
very complete accident records

that far back, except that
they know it was unsolved.

But I remembered that you
mentioned that the car had b*rned,

so I got in touch with
the fire department.

Well, that was brilliant, Shawn.

Well, we hope.

Jessica, what is it?

Well, the fire boss's report
indicates that the SEC agent,

James Holland, was k*lled when his
car was struck by a hit-and-run driver.

And there was an eye-witness,

his 10-year-old daughter, Carla.

Which leaves us where?

We found this in the
James Holland file.

Based on the kid's description
of the hit-and-run driver.

But I still don't see
what this has got to do

with the m*rder of Annette
Rayburn's star witness

or your hassles
with her grand jury.

Star witness. May
I use your phone?

When I'm finished,

I think we should take a
quick trip to the m*rder scene.

Annette.

Lou, save it. We have
nothing to talk about.

Jessica Fletcher would like
me to tell you that she's sorry if...

Well, you can tell her that I
do not accept her apology.

Oh, and actually,
there is something.

Didn't you used to represent
Mason Logan and Paige Corbin?

A long time ago, yes.

They were clients of the firm I worked
for when I first passed the bar. Why?

It proves to me we never could
have had anything in common.

You know what?

If I had given you a
ring, I'd want it back.

Hello, Marshal Morgan.
Anything for me?

Mrs. Fletcher, where
the hell have you been?

Looking all over for you.

Oh, I'm not gonna
fall for that one.

Thank you.

As my mother used to say, you
can't see the show without a ticket.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Mrs. Fletcher has returned of her
own volition to complete her testimony.

The contempt charge was
dismissed with my approval.

This Grand Jury has no wish to reward
cooperation with punitive measures.

Are you ready to begin?

When you were
on the stand before,

I asked you about
the telephone call

you received from Paige Corbin.

And I told you that I
never spoke to him.

Would you care to try again?

But if I can prove it?

Mrs. Fletcher, are you shopping
for a new contempt charge?

Oh, heavens, no!

Before you reward me with
another punitive measure,

may I remind you that
there was a witness?

Nick Logan was with Paige Corbin

when he hung up the
phone without speaking.

Yes, and may I remind you that
Nick Logan is an alleged m*rder*r?

We do seem to cross
swords, don't we?

Look, to avoid any
further misunderstanding,

I'd like to make myself
clear to the Grand Jury.

Mrs. Fletcher...

unless you answer
my questions...

this Grand Jury will not be interested
in anything that you have to say.

Maybe you've forgotten, Ms.
Rayburn, they call it a hearing.

What is Lieutenant
Riley doing here?

I do not remember inviting a
policeman into my jury room.

I suggest you continue
with the witness.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank you.

This is a fax of June 2nd, 1966,

an early edition of
The New York Sentinel.

Mrs. Fletcher, we are examining
current criminal activities,

not excavating ancient history.

James Holland, 33,

a Securities and Exchange
Commission agent,

was on his way to pick up
his 10-year-old daughter, Carla,

at school yesterday afternoon.

The little girl saw his car
side-swiped and run off the road

by a hit-and-run driver.

Mr. Holland's car
collided with an abutment.

He was k*lled instantly.
The car burst into flames.

The newspaper left out
Carla Holland's middle name.

Annette.

Rayburn was her
mother's maiden name.

You were that little girl.

Mrs. Fletcher...

James Holland was your father.

He'd been investigating a
stockbroker named Mason Logan.

You were horrified.
And so frightened.

You saw the driver
of the other car.

It was two days before
you could bring yourself

to describe him to
a police sketch artist,

but he drew this.

The man who k*lled your
father was never caught.

But the incident marked
you and 30 years later,

just a few days ago, you
saw the man in the flesh.

It was Paige Corbin
and you k*lled him.

Madam Foreman,
this witness is excused.

A little while ago, when I saw
the sketch that the police had made

from your description
of the k*ller 30 years ago,

I realized that it
resembled Paige Corbin.

And when Lieutenant Riley referred
to Mr. Corbin as your star witness,

it reminded me of something
that I'd noticed at the m*rder scene,

but I hadn't thought much about.

Something on the desk, amid the
paper clips and the rubber bands.

A tiny gold star

that matches the one in your right
ear and is missing from your left.

This one.

Which you lost when
you m*rder*d Mr. Corbin.

That's ridiculous.
I must have lost it

when I met Lieutenant
Riley at the m*rder scene.

That's not true, Ms. Rayburn.

This crime scene photo
happened to have been snapped

at the moment you entered
Nick Logan's warehouse office.

As you can see, the little
star wasn't in your ear.

When I saw Paige Corbin,
yesterday, I was stunned.

Suddenly, there I was,

face-to-face with the
cause of all my nightmares.

But you had provided Mr. Corbin with
a number where he could reach you.

An answering service to which you
subscribed under the name of John Smith.

The number he was trying to call

when he accidentally
reached mine instead.

Yes, but that night I
went to confront him.

I saw that the door had been
kicked in and he was gone.

Spirited away by Nick Logan.

But early this morning
he called the service.

He said that he was afraid.

He said that he wanted to
testify against Mason Logan

in exchange for
immunity from prosecution.

I said that that
would be no problem.

I mean, my father had been
investigating Mason Logan for years.

I told him that he would be picked
up and placed in protective custody.

Then he gave me the number of
the warehouse and the address.

So, I decided to go
myself to pick him up.

Oh, I just wanted
him to admit it.

I just wanted him to admit
what he did to my father.

But he didn't.

He denied it.

He laughed.

I saw the letter opener on
the desk and suddenly, I...

I just... I just wanted
him to feel a little bit

of what I'd been
feeling all those years.

Lieutenant Riley, will
you do the honors?

Of course.

Excuse me, Ms.
Rayburn, I'm Reed Harding.

I'd like to make a deal.

This computer disk has all
that you'll need to nail your case

against Logan
Investment Services.

It's yours in exchange
for my immunity.

Lieutenant, since I'm
no longer in a position

to bargain with this
man, he's your prisoner.

Prisoner? What are you...

I believe you have a
point there, Ms. Rayburn.

Shell, cuff this guy.

Oh, no, no! You
can't do this! Stop!

Can I get a smile, please?

Good news, Jessica.

Mason Logan's surgery
was a huge success.

Great.

He'll be able to face a judge
after all. And Nick Logan?

Well, he's got plenty
of explaining to do

before he and Maria Corbin
can get their lives back together.

Mmm-hmm. Can I buy you lunch?

Oh, thanks, but I'm already a week
behind on an important deadline.

Oh, no!

Not to worry, Mrs. Fletcher.

You forgot your reading
glasses down at the courthouse.