07x11 - The Deadly Madonna

[bunniefuu]

I... I don't know.

I've told you a hundred times
I don't know.

You see, we...

we came here as tourists.

It was a sort
of second honeymoon.

See, I haven't been well,

and my husband thought
perhaps a trip...

We were...

we were leaving the hotel

when we were
crossing the square.

That's when
the sh**ting started...

We didn't even know
who was f*ring at whom.

You have to believe me!

I'm sick...

Day after day of this...

Where is...

Where is my husband?

What have you done
with my husband?

Oh, no! No!

Oh, no more... no more dr*gs,
oh, please!

Please, no more...
no more dr*gs!

See... see...

you have to let me go now

or I'll be late to school
and I'll be punished.

Let me go!

I'll k*ll you! Aah!

I'll k*ll you!
Aah!

Cut! That's a print!

Victoria, that's the best bit
of acting I've seen in years.

Oh...

You mean me or the muscle man?

I mean you, princess.

You were marvelous;
I mean it sincerely.

Aw, that's sweet
of you, Jonathan,

but you know going slightly
crackers isn't just acting.

I've been there.

That's behind you.

Forget it.

The important thing now
is Victoria Page is back,

and Jonathan Stack's got her.

Oh, thank you, dear.

All right, everybody.

It's a wrap.

We'll continue the sequence
in the morning,

and go over
to Stage Nine after lunch.

If we're lucky.

We'll be lucky
or I'll need a new assistant.

What time is my call
in the morning, Gary?

: in makeup,
: for the set, Miss Page.

Okay, thank you.

Vicki, I'm whipping up
an -boy curry

for some chums tonight.

Would you join us?

I'm sorry, Jonathan,

I promised Janet no socializing
until I'm deeper into the part.

Uh-uh, now don't make me
the heavy, darling.

You were the one who said
we'd work on the script tonight.

You see, I can't even get away
with a white lie

with my sister around.

Well, you're missing a treat.

My curry would curl your hair.

Good night, princess.

Remember, you're still
the best in the business.

Good night, Janet.
Good night, dear.

See you in the morning.

Would you have believed how easy
this was going to be?

I tell you, coming back to work

was the best thing
I've ever done for myself.

I feel simply fabulous,

as if I'd never
been sick a day in my life.

What's the matter?

Oh, it's-it's nothing.

Just...

It just makes me
feel good inside

to hear you talk like that.

Oh, well, now,
let's not get maudlin.

I'll go and bring
the car around.

All right, I'll get out of this

and I'll meet you
in a few minutes.

Okay, don't forget
your script.

Oh, I'll pick it up
on the way out.

Al right.

You're going
to make it, old girl.

Just... hang in there.

Stay loose.

Janet?

Hello, Mrs. Carstairs.

It's nice to see you again.

Don't tell me
you've forgotten me.

I've never forgotten you.

I want a confession...

a confession that you k*lled
your husband.

Oh, you may have fooled
everyone else,

but not me, not for a second.

He d*ed.

And now you're going to die.

Vicki?

What is it?
Someone sh*t at me!

Vicki!
But didn't you see him?

He ran out just ahead of me.

Who, Vicki, who?

I don't know.

He was wearing a mask.

Oh, that hideous mask.

It's all right, Vicki.

But the sh*ts,
didn't you hear the sh*ts?

Vicki, come on now,
it's all right.

Now, let's go home.

Let's go home.

Come on, I'll do something
about it, I promise you.

By

Oh, Mr. Mannix.

Hello, Janet.

Uh, Victoria will be
out of makeup in a few minutes.

Would you like some coffee?

Yeah, thank you.

Well, how does it feel
to be back in California?

Well, I don't think
I ever really left it.

Vicki and I are both natives.

We were born
in West Los Angeles.

Our old house is how
a San Diego Freeway off-ramp.

How do you take it?

Just black.

You know, I didn't call you
last night

just at random, Mr. Mannix.

I've never forgotten
how helpful you were

when Vicki was getting
those crank letters from Topeka.

Well, that was
at least, uh... ten years ago.

You've got a great memory.

Well, some of those letters were
pretty memorable, believe me.

But what we really
appreciated was the way

you were able to keep it
out of the newspapers.

And that's
the important thing now.

Just when she's making
her comeback and...

after what she's been through.

You see...

while we were in Europe...

Her husband was k*lled
in a car accident.

She had a breakdown.

Spent a year in a mental
hospital in Switzerland.

Well, she's fine now.

I was afraid what happened last
night might have set her back,

but today I'm sure
she's going to make it.

I'd hate the newspapers
to get hold of it.

If they dug deep enough...

Well, it could be awful.

I understand.

Hello, Joe.

Hello, Victoria.

Welcome home.

You look great.

Thank you.

This is an ungodly hour to bring
you all the way out here.

I'm sorry.

Oh, I like it.

All these people
breaking their backs

before : in the morning.

It makes me happy with my job.

I suppose Janet told you
what happened.

Bare bones,
on the phone last night.

Um...

why don't we go where we
can talk more privately?

Oh, isn't it amazing
how different things look

when the sun comes up?

It's almost as if it had
never happened.

Then you don't mind if
I ask you a couple of questions?

No, of course not.

I think some of my answers
may rock you a bit.

You have any idea at all
who this man in the mask was?

Not in the slightest.

Nothing in his voice,
his manner, his build?

Nothing.

Can you think of anyone you've
known at any time in your life,

who might have wanted
to k*ll you?

No one.
Miss Page,

we'll be ready for our rehearsal
in just a minute.

All right, Gary, thank you.

Maybe you better tell me exactly
what happened.

The first thing he said was
"Hello, Mrs. Carstairs.”

Vicki, you didn't tell me that.

Well, it sounded so unreal.

Carstairs...

Does that mean anything to you?

You know, it's funny, at first
I thought it rang a tiny bell,

uh, a deja vu sort of thing.

But today,
it simply doesn't make sense.

Could this man have confused you
with someone else?

Definitely not.

Why are you so sure about that?

He knew who I was.

He said...

He wanted me to confess
that I k*lled Allen.

That's my husband.

He was k*lled
in a car crash in Italy.

I was with him.

Allen Sands.

It was an accident.

He was speeding,
and he'd had too much to drink.

Janet...

Well, I just want that
out in the open.

Did he say anything else?

No.

He sh*t at me
three times... and...

What is it?

"Mrs. Carstairs.”

I think I remember.

Janet, wasn't that the name
of the character I played

in The Deadly Madonna?

Carstairs?

Em-Emily.

Emily Carstairs, you're right.

The Deadly Madonna.

I thought I knew all your films.

I don't remember
any Deadly Madonna.

It was never finished.

The producers ran out of money
halfway through filming.

Well, do you think there could
possibly be any connection

between The Deadly Madonna
and the man who sh*t at you?

I can't imagine
what it could be.

Well, uh, why don't you show me
where it happened?

Yes, it...
it was right over here.

Now, uh...

he came out
of the shadows from there,

and then I backed up
against this wall.

Where was he
when he fired at you?

Well, just about
where you are now,

but farther back, near the door.

Did anybody else hear the sh*ts?

Not that I know of.

Well, that doesn't
mean anything.

The stages are soundproof.

Oh, Miss Page...

we're ready for rehearsal.

All right.
Right away, Gary.

Excuse me, Joe.

What is it?

She said he fired
three sh*ts at her.

Yes.

He not only missed her
from that distance,

but he, uh, didn't
put a single hole in the wall.

Morning, Peggy.

Any luck with
The Deadly Madonna?

Here.

"Chatter” column
by Hal Seagrave--

Affectionately known then
and now as "Slimy" Seagrave.

Mm-hmm.

"While every studio in town
is palpitatingly eager

"to sign Victoria Page
to a long-term contract

"following her personal triumph
in Goodbye To Innocence,

"people close to the luminous
Vicki are asking in whispers

"what has become of Mark Baxter,

"the director she left
high and dry

"while making
The Deadly Madonna.

Mark Baxter only happened
to be her husband.”

That's right.

They were married
for a couple of months.

First time for Victoria and
third and last time for Baxter.

Then he just dropped
out of sight completely.

And he directed
The Deadly Madonna.

Mr. Mannix's office.

Oh, yes, Miss Baker.

It's the Academy.

Yes...

Nemo?

Uh-huh.

One, eight, three...

Uh-huh.

Oh, that's great.

Thank you so much, Miss Baker.

Bye-bye.

Miss B said
that if anyone in town

had a couple of frames
of The Deadly Madonna,

it's a film buff
by the name of Max Nemo.

He's got a classic theater
out on Berendo.

Here's the address.

Thanks, Peggy.

Oh, and, uh,
see if you can find out

if Mark Baxter has surfaced
anywhere lately, huh?

Right.

If you're smoking, k*ll it.

I'm looking for Max Nemo.

You found him.

I hope you understand
about that no smoking.

All this stuff is old film,
nitrate, pre- .

Go up in a flash.

My name is Mannix.

Just hold your horses.

Won't be but a minute.

Okay, Mannix.

Are you a PR man?

Uh, P.I. man--

Eh, Private Investigator.

I was wondering if you could
help me track down--

Isn't that Victoria Page?

Yep.

Farewell To Innocence.

.

Copped about a jillion awards.

Yeah, they don't make 'em

like Victoria Page anymore.

Someone told me if I needed

information on old films,
you were the man to see.

Someone told you right.

Well, how about
The Deadly Madonna, for one?

That's a collector's item.

Never been released.

Not even finished.

Eh, might be a couple of cans
of film around somewhere.

Would, uh, Mark Baxter have one?

You know about Mark Baxter, too?

Well, I heard that, uh,

The Deadly Madonna
was the end of his career.

Yeah.

Fade out.

Finito.

Any idea what happened to him?

Ah, dropped clear out
of sight; probably dead by now.

At least his liver ought to be.

He was a bottle-a-day man--
a cinch for cirrhosis.

And as far as you know,

there aren't any prints
available of the film?

From all I hear,
they couldn't find any

in the vault,
not even a negative.

Wait a minute...

Wait a minute.

There was a columnist,
used to brag about

having the only print--

A muckraker named Hal Seagrave.

Do you know
where I can find him?

Oh, he lives pretty high
on the hog--

A penthouse on Wilshire
someplace.

But in my book,
he's still in the gutter.

Well, Mr. Mannix,

I take it you're what we used
to call a gumshoe.

Bogey would be proud of me.

Mm.

If you're here for the lowdown

on the Labor Day party
at Malibu,

it'll all be
in next week's issue.

Should be good
for a couple of divorces,

which, I guess, means some
quick money for you chaps.

I don't handle divorce cases,
Mr. Seagrave.

Aw.

You quite obviously haven't got
a healthy interest in dirt.

I find it tough enough
living with smog.

I assume that, uh, you're here
on someone's behalf.

Mm, someone who's interested
in the golden days of Hollywood.

Mm...

Nostalgia time.

Mm!

Gable and Tracy
fighting over Myrna Loy.

Lombard and Harlow...

Ty Power and Flynn.

All the beautiful,
magical people.

Including, of course,
Victoria Page.

That name somehow falls short
of stimulating me.

Is she your client?

Yes.

Why come to me?

Surely not for help.

The last time I saw Miss Page
was in court, years ago,

when she sued me for libel.

Fat chance.

Meaning, uh, she lost the case.

She lost.

But the melody lingers on.

Obviously, you still
hold a grudge.

One that I shall cherish
to the end of my days.

Why?

Mark Baxter used
to be top of the heap.

He was number one director
in Hollywood.

Then he found this mousy,
undernourished fugitive

from a repertory company in,
of all places, Long Beach.

He taught her how to...

how to talk,
how to wear clothes.

He gave her a presence,
a posture, an incandescent glow.

Then he put together

a movie package to launch her
as a ready-made star.

And how did our lady thank him?

Halfway through, she walked out
on him and the picture.

That, uh...

that finished
Mark Baxter in Hollywood.

That's what you hold
against her?

I couldn't care less
about their love life.

But I ponied up $ ,

of my own money to get
The Deadly Madonna rolling.

And then when it ground to
a halt, thanks to dear Vicki,

I was out every nickel.

You once let it be known

that you had a work print
on The Deadly Madonna.

Yeah.

I kept it in a closet,
gathering dust,

to remind me that show business
is for fools.

Then, a few years ago,
I got a tip that...

...that Mark Baxter

was holed up in some mission
for drunks downtown.

So |, uh, I sent it to him.

I figured he needed it
more than I did

to cheer up his declining years.

Do you, uh, remember
where you sent it?

Some dump on Los Angeles Street.

Well...

thanks for your help,
Mr. Seagrave.

Mr. Mannix...

I'm sorry I couldn't
be more specific,

but, uh, Skid Row
is not exactly my b*at.

Some drunks have all the luck.

Uh, no, I've been
thinking about it, Joe.

No, the doctor said
I was perfectly well

when they let me
out of the hospital.

But now, I find myself
wondering... am I cured?

Is this real,
or is it just in my mind?

That's something we're going
to have to find out.

Oh-- you said, yesterday,
that the man in the mask

accused you of k*lling
your husband.

Yes.

You have any idea
why he would say that?

No.

Victoria, I want you
to tell me exactly

what happened
the night of the accident.

Do I have to, Joe?

You never know.

It could help.

Two years ago...

Allen and I were living
in a villa near Rome.

We weren't getting along
too well.

I thought he was seeing
another woman.

Anyway...

we were driving home
from a party,

and I decided
to have it out with him.

I guess I came on
pretty strong.

Who is she, Allen?

Who?

The woman you're having
the affair with.

Oh, come on, Vicki.

You were on the phone
with her when I came in

off the terrace this afternoon.

You hung up the minute
you saw me.

Have you had too much to drink?

I want to know
who she is, Allen.

Darling, I really think you're
going round the bend.

Stop the car.

Is that an order?

Of course it is.

And why not?

It's your car,

your villa, your money.

Everything belongs to you.

And your husband?

Oh, too bad,
his books don't sell.

He's just another
Tinkertoy, right, Vicki?

I know
you're seeing another woman.

Is that what you've been
brooding about all these weeks?

Well, let me
tell you something, Vicki--

You ought to spend some of your
precious money on a doctor.

Your mind's
playing tricks on you!

I mean it! Stop the car!

The next thing I remembered,

I was being wheeled
into a hospital room.

You know,
the only consolation I've had--

If we hadn't swerved,

the people in the other car
might have been k*lled, too.

Well, it's pretty obvious
that you weren't at fault.

You had to grab the wheel.

It was instinctive,
it was right.

Then why do I have
this dreadful guilt feeling

whenever I think about it?

You should try not
to think about it.

I've tried.
It doesn't help.

Always that image.

Victoria,

do you think
that's what might have happened

yesterday on the sound stage?

Your mind created
a horror figure

to accuse you of a crime
you felt guilty about?

It had to have been
my imagination, Joe.

No one heard the sh*ts,
there were no b*llet holes.

What other explanation
could there be?

Well, the g*n could have
been filled with blanks.

But why would anyone do that
to me?

That's something
we still have to find out.

I've got to run,
but I'll be in touch.

Thanks.

Mannix.

Joe, it's about Max Nemo.

Yeah, I've already
talked to him, Peggy.

Did he call back with something?

No.

Art Malcolm called
from his workshop.

They found your card
on his body.

Body?! What happened?

A fire.

The whole place
went up in smoke.

Yeah, thanks, Peg.

Art...

what happened?

According to the lab boys,

it could have been a cigarette.

That old nitrate film
goes up like a b*mb.

Nemo made it out to here,
but he'd had it.

Smoke inhalation.

You didn't find any marks
on the body?

No sign of a struggle?

No marks, no struggle,
no surprises.

Which brings me around
to you, Joe.

We did find one
of your business cards.

I didn't know
you were an old movie buff.

Isn't everyone?

I was just here
looking at some old films.

Sure. You do that all the time,
don't you, Joe?

Yeah.

Have you got a client?

Well, I suppose
you could say that.

Could you say what your client's
name is, just for the record?

Sorry, Art, but there's
one thing I can tell you.

Even if Max Nemo did die
of smoke inhalation,

I don't think
he started the fire.

How come?

Well, he may have been
eccentric,

but films were his whole life.

He wouldn't let a firefly
within yards of this place.

You mean somebody did this
to cover a m*rder?

That's exactly what I think.

Mannix.

Joe, I think
I've got a lead on Mark Baxter.

Down on Los Angeles Street,
the Voice of God Mission.

Excuse me-- can you tell
where I can find the manager?

Hmm. No manager.

Well, who's in charge?

Nobody.

Nothing to be in charge of.

Well, uh...

maybe you can help me.

Can't even help myself.

Otherwise,
I wouldn't be here, would ?

I'm looking
for a man named Mark Baxter.

Wrong neighborhood.

Nobody here's got a name.

Yeah... well, look, uh,
if you do happen to see him,

uh, would you ask him
to give me a call?

That's Mark... Baxter.

Tell him I'm a friend
of Victoria Page.

Mister?

Yeah?

Did you say Victoria Page?

That's right.

Do you know where Baxter is?

You're talking to him.

I'm afraid I can't offer you
anything in the way of a drink.

Our, uh, benefactors

don't exactly encourage us
to observe the happy hour.

Some other time.

Yeah.

Doctor even warned me

that one more drink might, uh...

cause this room
to have a vacancy...

for a live man.

So you want to know
about Vicki and me, huh?

Well, I guess you heard
that we were married.

Of course, it was as brief
as a two-reel short,

but we were married.

'Cause I know, uh...

I understand it broke up

during the making
of The Deadly Madonna.

Yeah... the making,
but not the finishing.

She's had a rough time
this past year, Mr. Baxter.

What, you mean
that second husband of hers,

that... that author?

I read about that in the papers.

By the way,
I also talked to Hal Seagrave.

Seagrave.

Boy, I'm sure that he told you

the whole sad story about us,
didn't he?

How Vicki deserted me in the...

in the middle of my masterpiece,

and then left me
a hopeless alcoholic.

Something like that.

Yeah.

Well, he's made a whole career
out of ignoring the truth.

And the truth is...

The...

The truth is,

I wouldn't have finished
The Deadly Madonna

even if the money
hadn't run out.

I'd lost my touch, Mr. Mannix.

All my... creative juices

were diluted
by too many years of booze.

I, uh, just...

didn't have it anymore.

And you, uh, have no bitterness
against Vicki Page?

Bitterness?

No.

Oh, no.

She's the greatest thing
that ever happened to me.

You have no idea how...

how often she helped me...

with money and, uh,
hospitals and drying me out.

And bailing me out--

One jail after another.

She's a...

a remarkable woman.

Remarkable.

She just has
one unfortunate failing--

A predilection
for marrying the wrong man.

Seagrave told me
that he gave you a work print

of The Deadly Madonna.

Yeah.

What there was of it.

I used to keep it
right over there

until one night about, um,

two years ago,
I was drunk out of my head,

and I b*rned every last frame.

It was just taking up space...

shaking my dreams.

As far as you know, uh...
it was the only print?

Yeah.

Well, uh, thanks, Mr. Baxter.

I really appreciate your help.

Hey, look, um...

If you're going to see Vicki...

I'll see her tomorrow
at the studio.

Yeah, will...
will you tell her...?

Tell her...

Just... say hello from...

from an old friend.

Sure.

Janet, would you mind skipping
the rushes this noon

so you can check
on my wardrobe for Monday?

Okay, I'll look at them later.

See you on the set.

All right, dear.

Am I late, Lou?

No, Miss Page.
Mr. Stack called.

He's tied up
in a story conference,

and you're to run without him.

Okay. You can start any time.
All right.

Scene , take one.

Action.

I don't know.

I told you a hundred times,
I don't know.

I don't know.

We came... We came
here as tourists.

I'm down here, Jonathan.

It was sort of...

a second honeymoon.

You see, I haven't been well,
and my...

my husband thought
perhaps a... a trip...

We left the hotel...

Old girl's not too bad,
after all.

...crossing the square

when the sh**ting started.

We didn't know who...

No comment?

Oh, you have to believe me!

Hello, Mrs. Carstairs.

I'm sick... I'm sick...

It's nice to see you again.

Where... Where's my husband?

What have you done
to my husband?

No.

No! No more dr*gs. No!

Now, you
have to let me go now...

No.
...or I'll be late

for school.
I'll be punished.

No!

Let me go!

Let me go...!

Oh, Joe, am I glad to see you.

The phone has been ringing
like crazy.

Don't tell me--
all Art Malcolm, right?

I'm afraid so, Joe.

Yeah, well, what's got him
uptight this time?

Mark Baxter's dead.

Dead?!

The police found
your card in his pocket.

How'd he die?

Alcoholic poisoning.

When I left him,
he was bone dry.

They found an empty
whiskey bottle beside him.

You don't buy it, do you?

The two men who knew the most
about The Deadly Madonna

both dead within hours.

Just too neat.

But Joe, they were strangers.

Outside of the film,
what did they have in common?

One thing--

My business card.

I've got a feeling
I've been used

as a bird dog
to track them down.

Oh, here's the afternoon mail.

Mm.

From Max Nemo.

It's postmarked
Cole Station, yesterday.

"Couldn't find
a single frame of Madonna,

"but here's a draft
of the script.

"The writer did better
than the director.

"He made it to the end.

Keep in touch, Max Nemo."

Why don't you go home, Peggy.

I'll fix you a drink.

No, that's all right.

I can do it myself.

In fact, I can do it
better myself.

Stronger elbow.

Good night, Joe.

Nurse?

Nurse, will you come in?

Vicki, what is it?

Wh-Where's the nurse?

Oh...

Oh she... She didn't arrive.

She didn't even call.

I phoned the service and they
said she was due here at : .

That's all they knew.

Why didn't you tell me?

Because you were asleep,
and I didn't want to worry you.

Now, look,

I'm right next door.

We'll manage.

I've been awake
off and on all night.

I keep hearing noises.

I know. I know.

I heard them, too.

It's just the wind.

Maybe if I took another pill...

Look, would you settle
for some hot chocolate?

I know it won't get you
to sleep as quickly,

but Dr. Banks would rather
you had it than a pill.

I guess you're right.

Are you sure
you don't mind, darling?

Oh, don't be silly.

I'll bring it up in a minute.

And I'll probably
find you asleep.

Janet! Janet!

Janet? Janet, quickly!

Janet!

Operator...

Operator, will you get me...
Will you...

Operator?

Janet!

Janet! Janet, I thought you...

Oh, Janet...

Darling,
you shouldn't be down here.

Janet, he...
he tried to k... k*ll me.

Oh, my God.

Vicki, what's the matter?
My God...!

Vicki, you've got to stop this.

Do you hear me?

You've got to get hold
of yourself

or you're going
to be terribly ill.

I... I know.

Come on.
I know, I know.

Here... here, drink this.

I'll stay with you.

I won't let you out of my sight.

But I... I saw him.

I really did see him.

Drink it while it's still warm.

All of it.

So there are no bad dreams.

There.

"P, P-- Victoria Page"

Janet, look.

It's nothing
to be afraid of, darling.

It's only Allen.

Don't you recognize
your own husband?

Good evening, Vicki.

I---

It's impossible.

The car...

You were... you were
k*lled in the accident.

That makes me a very
live ghost then, doesn't it?

Thanks to
your enterprising sister.

Or should I say...

thanks to your enterprising
and enchanting sister.

I hated to do it, Vicki.

I really did at first.

You've always had it your way.

The fame, the money,

any man you wanted...

until this time.

And now it's my turn.

I'm going to live.

Why couldn't you
have just stayed a vegetable

in the sanitarium?

And then we would
have had it all--

The money, everything,
without having to go this far!

You see, the car accident was
supposed to drive you crazy,

and then everything
would come to us.

But, no...

...the doctors had to cure you.

And then you were back here and
on your way up to the top again,

and then we had
to start all over!

... Only, this time...

...this time...

...it's going to work.

But you can't get away
with this.

I'll tell the police.

I'll... I'll call them.

How?

Or haven't you noticed
the effect

that the drink's having on you?

They'll remember
how nervous you've been.

All that pressure.

No wonder you k*lled yourself.

Janet.

Don't bother
with introductions.

I know who your friend is.

I also know
why you're still alive

after that fiery accident
in Italy.

Victoria?

Okay, Mannix...

...drop it or I'll k*ll her.

Allen...
Shut up!

Is she expendable, too?

If necessary.

Sorry, baby.

Now drop it.

Oh!

Victoria?

Get an ambulance.

Joe, that night,

that impossible night...

what brought you to the house?

Well, there were two things:

One, a scene
from The Deadly Madonna

and the other, your telephone
was out of order.

What scene?

One that was never sh*t,
or you would've remembered it...

but Janet never forgot it.

You see, in this scene,

the heavy wanted
to k*ll the driver of a car

who had had a couple of drinks.

He placed a large mirror
on the road

so that the driver saw
his own headlights

coming at him full speed.

In order to avoid
a head-on crash,

he swerved and went
over the cliff.

Yes, but I wasn't driving.

Enter Allen Sands, author.

With a slight rewrite,
he was driving the car,

you were the passenger.

You saw the oncoming lights,

grabbed the wheel
and he lost control.

When you regained consciousness,
Janet told you

that Allen Sands had
been k*lled in the accident,

and you started
blaming yourself for his death.

And ended up in a sanitarium.

Once Janet and Sands
got back to America,

they had to make sure that
people like Nemo and Baxter

weren't around long enough
to put it all together.

Joe...

what will they do to Janet?

Well, that depends, Vicki.

I've got a hunch
she's going to try and prove

that Allen Sands
forced her into it.

Maybe she can.

She's already proved something
I never thought I'd believe.

What's that?

That she's the actress
in the family.

I might even say

she gave the performance
of my life.