Murder, She Wrote s03e19 Episode Script
62117 - No Accounting for Murder
- [Screaming.]
- [Woman.]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
Banshees, maybe.
And, of course, there's the little people.
You buy me out right now, or we go to court and you open your books.
The Internal Revenue Service does not wait.
We act quickly and decisively.
With compassion and understanding, of course.
You want to get rich or do you want to pay taxes? I hope he knows what he's doing.
Tax shelters and I missed that semester.
The stories I could tell you.
Suicide, murder- Who is it? [Woman.]
Mr.
Giles, I told you Mr.
Whitman is tied up and can't be disturbed.
That's a lot of garbage, honey.
You go tell Ralphie boy I want to talk to him now.
If you'll just take a seat, sir, I'm sure it won't be more than 15, 20 minutes.
Twenty minutes.
I left my brother-in-law running the store.
In another 20 minutes, I could be bankrupt.
[Intercom Beeps.]
Yes, Mr.
Whitman.
Grady, could you step into my office for a moment? Yes, sir.
Here, you, uh, might take these two as well.
And get to know these clients.
If you have any questions, ask.
Yes, sir.
We're very pleased with your progress, both Mr.
Carlisle and myself.
We feel you've, uh, you've earned this added responsibility.
Thank you, sir.
Ah, forget the sir.
It's Ralph.
Ralph, right.
Thank you, Sir Ralph.
I mean, just Ralph.
Sir.
Thank you.
Yoo-hoo, Mr.
Fletcher.
I brought what you told me to bring.
Hi, Mrs.
Ellis.
Come on in.
Nice young man.
I hope he knows what he's doing.
What the- [Clears Throat.]
I hear your aunt is coming for a visit.
Not this one.
Now, let's see.
Let's start with medical.
Here.
Here's a letter from my brother Irwin.
He had an operation and he asked me to come and help.
So I did.
God rest his soul.
Um, I'm afraid the I.
R.
S.
Won't consider this a proper deduction.
It's medical.
You said medical.
But your medical expenses, Mrs.
Ellis.
You said bring, so I brought.
Here.
You go through them and let me know what's what.
There you are.
Are you sure? Tax troubles I don't need.
Believe me, government agents won't be banging down your door with a warrant.
Ha-ha, that's what Nixon thought.
[Chuckles.]
Good night, Mrs.
Ellis.
Good night.
Grady, your aunt called from her hotel.
I told her quitting time was sixish, so, uh, she should be coming by anytime now.
Oh, thanks, Connie.
Yeah.
Well, I gotta go put on some war paint.
Good.
[Screams.]
[Scream.]
Oh! It's him.
I saw him! It's him.
It's him! Grady! AuntJess.
So you finally got him, Caldwell, congratulations.
Grady, are you all right? Yeah, yeah.
I think so.
Where's Connie? L-l-I better see if she's okay.
Better luck next time, Caldwell.
If you, uh, run into your ghost, you be sure to let us know, huh? Ghost? It's, uh, it's a long story, Mrs.
Fletcher.
It is J.
B.
Fletcher, isn't it? Grady's illustrious aunt? Yes.
How do you do? Ralph Whitman.
Come on, let me show you around.
I know Mr.
Carlisle is dying to meet you.
J.
B.
Fletcher.
Grady's aunt.
She's a very famous writer.
Oh, Mrs.
Fletcher.
How delightful to meet you at last.
Why, thank you.
I can see where Grady gets his sharp mind from.
I've been a fan of your books for 20 years.
Oh? Yes.
Well, thank you very much.
I always say there's nothing like a good, old-fashioned love story to help you forget your cares.
Well, actually, sir, she, uh- Oh, I quite agree with you, Mr.
Carlisle.
I mean, where would we be without Barbara Cartland? [Chuckles.]
Well, come on, Grady.
We have a reservation for an early dinner.
It was so nice meeting you, Mr.
Carlisle.
The pleasure was all mine.
Thank you.
I'll walk you to the elevator.
Oh, Paul, the Hammond account.
The file's in my office.
Would you like to take a look at it tonight? No, no, no.
I'm leaving myself in just a minute.
[Door Closes.]
[Whitman.]
I apologize, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Uh, Mr.
Carlisle's not much of a reader.
Oh, he was very gracious.
He wasn't the only one.
What I really want to hear about though is the ghost.
Oh, him.
Harry Caldwell, our security guard, and also our, uh, resident ghostbuster swears we have spooks running around.
[Laughs.]
Unbelievable.
Right, Grady? Um, right, sir.
I'll explain it to you over dinner, AuntJess.
[Man.]
Ah, Whitman.
Good, good.
Trying to catch you.
[Whitman.]
Mr.
Grimshaw.
I've been trying to interface with you now for several days.
Look, it's nearly 6:30.
Can't this wait? The Internal Revenue Service does not wait, Whitman.
We act quickly and decisively.
With compassion and understanding, of course.
Of course.
You, uh, you know the way, Mr.
Grimshaw.
Excuse me.
[Sighs.]
Well, have a nice dinner.
I have a feeling mine's going to be a bowl of cereal at midnight.
Oh, I gotta get my coat I'll be back in a second.
Feeling better after your scare? A little.
[Jessica.]
I've never been much of a believer in ghosts.
Neither was I until I went to work in this place.
Good night again, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Good night.
Good night, Mr.
Carlisle.
He seems, uh, nice.
Oh, yeah, real swell.
[Door Closes.]
Okay.
Let's go.
Oh, no, no, thanks.
I've got to work tonight.
Oh, Grady.
It's that time of the year, AuntJess.
For the next couple of months, it's 16 hours a day.
Boy, being an accountant sure isn't what I thought it would be.
I am really bushed.
Well, it doesn't show.
You look wonderful.
And there's nothing wrong with your appetite.
That's because somebody or something stole my lunch.
What? Not Mr.
Caldwell's ghost? You know, there is something.
Weird noises, sounds in the wall I can't explain.
You know, Caldwell says a lot of stuff's been taken the past few months.
You know, food, bits of clothing.
Well, sounds more like a petty thief than an apparition.
That building really is kinda weird.
You know, the day of the '29 crash, a couple of stockbrokers went up to the roof and- [Raps Table.]
Splat.
Oh, dear.
I mean, maybe there's no connection but- Grady, the only things that go bump in the night in this city are the taxicabs, believe me.
Good night, Grady.
Ah, thanks a lot, AuntJess.
See you tomorrow.
Mm-hmm.
[Woman.]
Taxi.
Mr.
Whitman? Mr.
Whitman? Mr.
Whitman, are you still here? Mr.
Whit- Oh, my gosh.
Operator.
Send help.
Send the police.
Oh- [Operator.]
Hello? Sir? Hello? Send the police where? Sir, are you there? Hello.
Sir, sir, are you there? [Humming.]
Is the lieutenant here? Ah.
Lieutenant Rafferty? That's Hanratty, mum.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I was looking for Grady Fletcher.
Ah, then you must be the lad's aunt.
It's a pleasure to meet you.
Timothy Hanratty at your service.
Oh, how do you do? I'm Jessica Fletcher.
I wonder if I could- Now calm yourself, ma'am.
The lad is fine.
He's just givin' a statement to one of me men.
He'll be along in just a few more minutes.
Tell me, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Did you, uh, know the victim? Oh, no.
L-I just met him this evening.
Terrible way to die.
The lad found him there in his chair, with the lamp cord tied tightly around his neck.
And, uh, as you can see, the perpetrator left behind his calling card.
But that doesn't make any sense.
I beg your pardon? Well, it-it makes it seem as if Mr.
Whitman had been killed by a madman or a stranger, but if a stranger had walked into his office, surely he wouldn't have remained seated at his desk.
Ah, an interesting observation.
And ifhe had been working alone in the room, with the outer door locked, he would have had to get up to go and admit whoever it was.
Ah, your nephew's right, mum.
You do have a keen mind for police work, but, uh, Mr.
Whitman wasn't the only one here.
That is to say, your nephew was on the scene.
Yes.
He, uh, told me that he had reported the crime.
That he did.
So obviously he didn't kill Mr.
Whitman.
Well, it's unlikely.
Unlikely? Now, now, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Let's not be giving ourselves a bellyache until after we've tasted the stew.
Ah, wait.
It seems that our killer has left more than just a message.
In all likelihood, that's Mr.
Whitman's hat and coat.
Most likely, but, uh- Then what's that on the floor? I think the killer forgot his hat.
Mrs.
Fletcher.
[Blows.]
This is mine.
I bought it this morning.
[Laughs.]
It must have fallen to the floor in the confusion.
Sergeant.
Yes.
Seal up that room.
Let no one in without my authorization.
Yes, sir.
Oh, and, Joe- Mm-hmm.
When you finish with young Fletcher, tell him his aunt is here.
Sure will.
[Hanratty.]
Are you sure? No, no, no, thank you.
I am absolutely devastated by Ralph's death.
He was like my right arm to me, as well as a very close personal friend.
Now if there is nothing more, Lieutenant, I really should get to my office.
Oh.
Then you'll be open today.
So hard on the heels of the death of your close personal friend.
I'm a C.
P.
A.
, Lieutenant, not a sentimentalist.
[Grady.]
Can you believe this? Opening the office after last night? Oh.
Wait till you've been here as long as me, Grady.
Nothing will surprise you.
Must have been awful, finding him like this.
Yeah, I felt like tossing my dinner.
That's nice.
What? Well, I just mean, most guys would try to act tough.
Act like it didn't get to them, you know.
That's what I like about you, Grady.
Really? Thanks.
Ah, Fletcher.
We have some important matters to discuss.
Your office? Mr.
Grimshaw, we've had a murder here last night.
Mr.
Whitman- I know about Whitman.
I listen to the radio.
That's why I'm talking to you now.
Come along.
I haven't got all day.
Bottom line, Fletcher.
You've got 48 hours to come up with the figures.
Figures? What figures? [Laughs.]
Don't play dumb with me, pal.
It's been tried by experts, believe me, some of whom are doing three-to-five in Leavenworth.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Neptune Ventures.
Whitman said you're the engine driving that crummy tax dodge.
Me? Save the dumb look.
All I want is one thing.
Facts, figures, names, dates, places, the whole megillah.
After you.
Oh, geez.
[Hanratty.]
I took the liberty of pullin'a small file we have on your activities, mum.
The young lady murdered by that cosmetic executive, your very own publisher sent away because of your ingenuity.
I'm surprised the department hasn't given you a gold badge.
[Laughs.]
Well, it's, uh, just a quirk of mind really.
The way I see things, you know.
You see them quite clearly.
[Laughs.]
It's a gift.
My dear Kathleen had it, God rest her soul.
Oh, you're a widower.
I'm sorry.
Oh, she's happy enough I'm sure.
Hobnobbin' with the rest of the saints in heaven.
But I suppose the thing I miss most about her is the evenings we'd be discussing my cases and me sittin' there listening to her clear, logical observations.
Be a fine thing to have another intelligent woman to share my thoughts.
Lieutenant.
And I'd deem it a great personal favor if you'd, uh, call me Timothy.
Timothy.
Have you ever been within kissing distance of the Blarney stone? Never had the pleasure.
[Carlisle.]
Tax shelters? Sorry, Grady, those were Whitman's babies.
Who's the I.
R.
S.
Agent? Mr.
Grimshaw.
That figures.
Years ago, Grimshaw tried to nail Ralph on a tax fraud case, and Ralph made mincemeat of him with his supervisors, so Grimshaw's been after him ever since.
Well, maybe he got him.
I mean, last night.
He was with Mr.
Whitman when we all left.
Yes, I told the lieutenant that this morning.
He said he'd check it out.
Listen, Grady.
My advise to you is to show Grimshaw everything, whatever you and Ralph were working on.
But, sir, we weren't working on anything.
I mean, at least not none of his tax shelters.
Really? I was sure that Ralph said- Oh, I'm sorry.
I must have misunderstood.
Well, just do the best you can, and if there's ever any trouble, remember this firm is behind you 100%.
[Stammers.]
Morning, sir.
Good morning, Joe.
Any luck? Not yet.
Ghost hunting.
Sir, that I.
R.
S.
Agent Grimshaw was here.
I took the liberty to question him.
He admits he was with the victim until about 7:00, then he left.
Caldwell, the security guy, saw him go.
Oh, any word about Whitman's wife? We're still trying to find her.
Mrs.
Whitman has been strangely missing for the past 18 hours.
Well, if you'll excuse me, Timothy, I'm going to try and locate my nephew.
Fine, fine.
But if you come up with one of those famous inspirations- I'll find you.
Mr.
Caldwell? Your guys are wasting their time, Lieutenant.
This-This old building is like a rabbit warren.
Now your spook could be hiding anywhere.
Spook, is it? Mr.
Caldwell, you're not telling me that you believe in ghosts.
You know, I don't know what I should believe in anymore.
I understand you saw Mr.
Grimshaw leave the building last night.
When was that? Around 7:00, you say? Right.
And what time did you leave? Eight o'clock.
Mr.
Whitman was alive and alone when I left.
Easy, man.
I'm makin' no accusations.
The coroner says he couldn't possibly have died before 9:00, so if you're tellin' me the truth, you have nothin' to worry about.
Tax shelters and I missed that semester.
And this Neptune Ventures isn't in anything I've got.
The files must be in Ralph Whitman's office.
Oh, great.
The police have got it sealed- [Woman.]
This is ridiculous.
I have every right to go into my husband's office.
Lana, the police have it locked up.
There's nothing I can do.
Paul, you make me sick.
Hello again, Mrs.
Whitman.
Uh, do I know you? Well, we haven't actually met, but you tried to commandeer my taxi last night.
Down, outside this building.
Oh, no, I wasn't at this building last night.
Excuse me.
Ah, Mrs.
Whitman.
You were here.
And under the circumstances, l- I feel obligated to tell Lieutenant Hanratty.
Wouldn't you rather just come along with me? I mean, I'm sure there's some very reasonable explanation.
Sure, why not? I guess I have to talk to him eventually.
Catch you later, Paul.
Grady, the Hammond file is in my office.
You may need it for that meeting this afternoon.
Yes, sir.
Thanks.
Okay.
I was here to see my husband last night.
What of it? Now, now, Mrs.
Whitman.
There's no need to be testy.
I did not kill my husband.
Perhaps not.
But we had a great difficulty in reaching you.
L-I had a late engagement.
Very late.
I also got up very late.
Not in your own apartment? No.
Look, Lieutenant.
I had my life and Ralph had his.
Our marriage was a convenience for both of us, financially and otherwise.
Well, we-we took our own vacations.
My taste ran to the Riviera and Grenoble, and he liked the Cayman Islands of all places.
And on those few occasions when he needed me on his arm, I smiled at all the right people.
Any other questions? Ah, Mrs.
Fletcher? I just wanted to ask, at the time that I saw you, I assume your husband was still in the meeting with the Internal Revenue agent.
Well, yes.
Okay, I actually didn't talk to him.
I got to the office door.
It was locked.
I knocked.
Nobody answered so- Excuse me, sir.
Uh, we got trouble.
Upstairs.
L-l-I saw it, soon as I walked in with my cart.
There are ghosts here, sir.
Hiding in the walls.
Every place.
L-I can hear 'em, smell 'em.
Now, there, there.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
Banshees, maybe.
And of course, there's the little people.
But ghosts? No, no, no.
It looks fresh, Lieutenant.
I can tell you this.
It wasn't here last night.
Where's that lead? The office next door.
Let's take a look.
You must have had quite a fright.
Oh, I still can't get used to it.
The things that you see and hear, Mrs.
Weems- Is there any particular place where the spirits seem stronger? I've worked here nearly girl and woman.
The stories I could tell you about what's gone on within these walls robbery, suicide, murder.
Would you mind if I looked around? Do as you like.
I've had enough of this place.
Who is it? Just stay right where you are, ma'am.
Don't you come any closer.
Who are you? It don't matter none.
I ain't gonna hurt you.
I haven't hurt anybody.
Then it was you who scrawled the warnings on the walls.
No.
It wasn't me.
I live here.
I wouldn't do that to my home.
Live here? Where? There's places.
Warm places.
It's better than being out there in the cold.
I find enough to get by.
Some pieces of clothing, food, things to read.
I get by.
You write real nice stories, Mrs.
Fletcher.
You tell 'em, you tell 'em that I ain't hurt anybody.
Then you know about the murder of Mr.
Whitman.
I been watchin' all day from here and there.
This old building's got passageways that even I ain't found, with all the remodeling that's been done over the years.
If you know anything, you should come forward.
No! I don't know nothing.
Now you tell 'em that.
Now you just walk straight the way you was going.
It will take you to the fire stairs.
Wait! Don't go! Oh.
[Jessica.]
Timothy, I believed him.
The resident ghost of that building is definitely not a killer.
[Timothy.]
I think maybe his blarney works better than mine.
[Jessica.]
Oh, no.
Look, ifhe was a crazed killer, he could have easily killed me and left me there in the passage, and no one would have been any the wiser.
[Timothy.]
That seems to leave a problem for both of us.
[Jessica.]
Oh? [Timothy.]
Well, if this phantom isn't our killer, and there was no one else in the building last night, that seems to leave only one possible suspect.
Grady? Well, he certainly had a great deal to gain from Whitman's death.
New responsibilities, a promotion.
That's ridiculous.
The thought gives me no pleasure, Jessica.
But perhaps you have, uh, some idea that hasn't as yet occurred to me.
Well, I'm sure that Lana Whitman has occurred to you.
Yes, yes, the merry widow.
Yeah, I mean she may have been lying about the door being locked.
And I have this feeling that she had a very strong motive.
Oh, yes, indeed.
The lady is involved with some Bulgarian poet down in the Village.
Aha! And since Ralph Whitman was right up there financially, perhaps his death gave Lana the best of both possible worlds.
I'll check into that.
Is there anything else? [Carlisle.]
What are you talking about? He's crazy.
No, no, no, no, no.
No, you defer capital gains with a trust fund.
You borrow against the trust and use the cash to leverage the buy of the condo units.
Look, Myron, if you'd prefer to take tax advice from your son-in-law, be my guest.
Just a minute, Myron.
We've unsealed the Whitman office, Mr.
Carlisle.
You can use it.
Oh, thank you.
Would you tell Mr.
Fletcher that? Already did.
Good.
Myron.
[Sighs.]
Myron, let me ask you a question.
Do you want to get rich or do you want to pay taxes.
Which is it? [Sighs.]
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
It's as if this Neptune Ventures doesn't even exist.
[Jessica.]
But it has to, doesn't it? I mean, isn't that what Mr.
Grimshaw wants to know about? He must know something.
Well, if he does, he's not telling me.
Maybe there's something here in his appointment book.
My goodness.
He's certainly had a very busy schedule these past few weeks.
You know, I don't get it.
Mr.
Whitman really was a pretty good guy.
I mean, who'd want to kill him? Marty Giles.
What? Grady, who's Marty Giles? Well, he's a client but- Well, look.
He was here yesterday.
Yeah, mad as hell too.
And there's a penciled-in notation next to his name.
NV.
NV- Neptune's Ventures.
But I checked the files.
There is nothing in here on Neptune.
Are you sure? Yeah, I'm positive.
That's very odd.
Unless Neptune Ventures was the kind of thing that you don't keep a file on.
I think we should pay a visit to this Mr.
Marty Giles.
Oh, 60 bucks a pop? Come on, Marty, you're killin' me.
That's 20 bucks below what I paid for these things.
Come on, Charlie, paid? What paid? You got a receipt for those? Who you think you're talkin' to? All right.
I lost it, huh? Speakin' of gettin' lost- Okay, okay.
Sixty bucks, but you're a thief, Marty.
[Laughs.]
No kiddin'.
See Elsie.
Pardon me, lady.
Pardon me.
Eh, excuse me, Mr.
Giles? Yeah, whatcha selling? Ah, I beg your pardon? Anybody calls me Mr.
Is sellin'.
Excuse me.
If you could just spare me a moment, I'd like to talk to you about Ralph Whitman.
Who are you, his replacement? What? Well, I heard he got knocked off.
I just figured they'd be sendin' over somebody else to bust my chops.
Elsie, call those creeps over in the Bronx.
Ask 'em where's those watches? Ah, Mr.
Giles, I'm not from your accounting office.
Well, that's good.
Those gonifs-They were the start of all my problems.
Oh, you mean you're going out of business.
Going out of business? What are you talking about? Oh, I'm sorry.
The sign in the window.
Lady, that sign has been in the window since 1968 when I bought this place.
If I wasn't going out of business, I couldn't stay in business, not in this neighborhood.
What are you, from out of town or something? Actually, yes.
Yeah, figures.
Yeah, I'm Jessica Fletcher, and my nephew works for Carlisle and Associates- And I'm not interested.
Look, I know you're very busy, but I want to ask you about Neptune Ventures.
Whoa, whoa, here.
Who told you about that? Well, an agent from the Internal Revenue.
That's it, lady, case closed.
I'm busy.
Oh, but Mr.
Giles- Look, I got nothing to say to you about nothin'.
Now do yourself a favor and take a hike, because I don't wanna do or say anything ungentlemanly.
Excuse me.
Okay, folks, this ain't no library.
There's no readin' here.
Do it and move out.
Okay, thank you.
Sorry, Mrs.
Ellis.
Mr.
Fletcher's going to be a little late.
So I'll wait.
I've had plenty of practice.
Where is he? He's at the I.
R.
S.
Then they're making trouble? Not at all.
It's very normal for a C.
P.
A.
To be at the I.
R.
S.
[Mrs.
Ellis.]
So many initials.
I'm sure that means trouble.
[Grimshaw.]
I have had inquiries where the taxpayer was accompanied by his accountant, but I've never had an inquiry where the accountant was accompanied by his aunt.
Well, actually, Mr.
Grimshaw, I am working with the police on the Ralph Whitman murder.
Unofficially, of course.
I see.
And what does Whitman's death got to do with my investigation of your nephew's involvement with fraud against the government? But that has yet to be proved.
Proved? Madam, we are the Internal Revenue Service.
The burden of proof is on your nephew, and it is my considered opinion that he is the architect behind this amateurish boondoggle.
Sir, l-I don't even know what Neptune Ventures is.
No? Well, neither do I, precisely.
But it has been used for a write-off for large so-called losses on the returns of six Carlisle clients.
One of whom is Marty Giles.
Perhaps I'm interrogating the wrong Fletcher.
I did try to talk to Mr.
Giles about it, but he refused to speak to me.
And he told me he knew nothing about it, it was- how did he put it- "Something Ralph Whitman put me into.
" And since you've been Whitman's assistant for the past few months, and now have all his accounts- [Phone Rings.]
Grimshaw.
Really? Yes, yes, excellent news.
Excellent.
I'll expect a full report by close of business today.
Huh.
Ah, despite what you may think, Mrs.
Fletcher, we are not without heart here at the I.
R.
S.
We'vejust made a hairdresser in Greenpoint a very wealthy woman.
She supplied us with information that resulted in a $2.
6 million tax evasion.
Her 10% informant's fee will net her a tidy $260,000.
You mean you actually pay people to inform on their friends and neighbors.
I prefer to think of it as a reward for patriotism.
Now then, Mr.
Fletcher.
Let me ask you this one more time: What is Neptune Ventures? [Lana.]
You deal in dollars and cents, Paul, so let's talk bottom line.
My marriage to Ralph, as you know, was something less than blissful.
All five years of it.
And since I didn't get much in the way of love or companionship, I think I'm entitled to something tangible for all those years of ignominious existence.
Lana, I'm very busy- Ralph owned five percent of this money-making machine, and now it's mine, and I'm ready to sell.
Are you? Zoltan wants us to move to the coast of Spain.
He says New York no longer inspires him, and I think we can manage very nicely on $500,000.
You have an inflated opinion of what this business is worth.
$100,000 a year, five years.
I may have sold out cheap but at least let me collect.
Lana, I have someone waiting for me.
Listen to me, you arrogant horse's patootie.
You buy me out right now, or we go to court and you open your books.
Somehow l-I have this big, big feeling that you really don't want to do that.
Am I right? Ah, there you are.
I was just upstairs, looking for you, Mr.
Fletcher.
Me? Gives me no great pleasure, son, but, uh, I've got to bring you in for questioning.
What? Lieutenant! The gentleman from the Internal Revenue, Grimshaw, he just called with information that ties your nephew to a tax fraud and just possibly to a motive for murder.
Come along, son.
[Hanratty.]
Have you ever been to the Cayman Islands, son? Well, yeah, a couple of times.
Grady, I never knew that.
Well, it was just business, AuntJess.
Mr.
Whitman sent me down a couple of times to meet with some investors.
I was only there a day or two.
And did you do business with the New Commonwealth Bank and Trust? No! The Neptune Ventures setup was set there about six months ago.
It's being held in your name and the late Ralph Whitman.
This is crazy.
And they've got your signature on the card.
Then it's a forgery.
I never signed anything.
Wait.
I seem to remember that Mr.
Whitman spent his vacations in the Caymans.
If anyone's behind this clumsy attempt to frame Grady, I'm sure it was him.
Well, I'll have a bit o' trouble askin' him about that, now won't I? Look, son, Between you and me and these walls, I also am having a bit of trouble believing you're involved.
But the commissioner- Oh, Timothy, hang the commissioner.
Since when is an Irishman intimidated by a bureaucrat? Now, look, you asked for my help, now I'm asking for yours.
Now let's have one more look at those files back at Whitman's office.
[Grady.]
Again? AuntJess, we've been through them a dozen times.
But at least now we know who and what we're looking for.
Mr.
Grimshaw gave me a list of six clients who were involved in Neptune Ventures.
Concentrate on these.
Meanwhile, I am going to have a chat with one of them.
And this time, I am going to get some straight answers.
Lou, stop busting my chops, will ya? I mean, look, you wanna make a deal with Shelley, make a deal.
Just- Uh, look, the last load of toasters you shipped me, junk.
You bring me a gross, I'll go maybe nine fifty.
Otherwise, give Shelley the headache.
Lady, I got no time.
Make time, Mr.
Giles, or would you rather do it.
Ah, no, someone nice as you shouldn't go around makin' threats.
I'm sorry, but I don't have time for the niceties.
You said that the people at Carlisle Associates were what? What was that word? Gonifs? Gonifs- thieves, crooks.
While you are the soul of honesty.
I'm a businessman not a social work- I suppose you're taking in a lot of money the government doesn't know about? What is this? Twenty questions? And your accountants know all about it.
They might even want a piece of your action.
Ha, if you think I'm going to make a comment on that.
They might even offer some protection.
You've been watching too many Cagney movies.
Mr.
Giles, at the moment, my nephew is under suspicion of murder.
If I have to, I will gladly trade you for him.
Now how about the truth, just between you and me.
Okay, somebody got wise to what I was doing here, maybe those Carlisle creeps.
I was told to make a certain investment or or they'd go to the I RS and collect the reward.
You were told by whom? I don't know.
Everything was done through the mail.
And the investment was Neptune Ventures.
Yeah.
How did you know that? That's not important.
So all the checks that you made out were to Neptune Ventures.
Yes, and mailed to a P.
O.
Box.
Believe me, it was a lot cheaper than what the I.
R.
S.
Would have done to me.
Blackmail by long distance by someone who was very knowledgeable about your finances, Mr.
Giles.
Thank you very much.
You've been very helpful.
Listen, lady, uh, you're not gonna have to tell the government about this, are you? Oh, I'm sorry.
They already know.
[Laughs.]
Well, that's great.
Now I really am going out of business.
[Grady.]
Neptune Ventures.
We're not even sure it ties in with the murder.
The killer could be someone else altogether.
Maybe even your ghost.
[Yawns.]
I'm going to go splash some water on my face.
You take a look.
Maybe you can find something in this.
Oh, hey, Grady? Hmm? Could you do me a favor? Yeah, sure, anything.
Um.
Oh.
I guess I'm kinda spooked.
Do you mind walking me to the subway? It'll only take a couple of minutes.
Yeah, I'll get my coat.
Thanks.
Okay.
Let's go.
Okay.
Hammond.
Charles S.
Hammond? Where have I heard that name before? Oh, dear.
It can't be.
Or can it? Can it what, Mrs.
Fletcher? Mr.
Carlisle, I thought you'd left for the day.
Oh, the weather's turning ugly, and I came back for my umbrella.
Hammond, Charles S.
Is this what can't be, Mrs.
Fletcher? Oh, uh, well, uh, for a moment I thought-I thought it was a friend of my late husband.
Ah, he and his wife lived in Cabot Cove for years.
And, uh, then I remembered it was Charles M.
Hammond.
M for Maurice.
Not that gentleman at all.
Hmm, interesting coincidence.
Yes.
You're very quick, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I'm surprised and a little saddened that you caught it.
I caught what? Such a little mistake.
And yet so stupid.
Well, l-I really must be leaving.
Finding a cab will be impossible in this weather.
You won't be needing a cab, I'm afraid.
I just can't believe how careless I was that first evening.
Ralph was just about to walk you to the elevator and then he turned to me and said: Oh, uh, Paul, the Hammond account.
The file's in my office.
Would you like to look at it tonight? No, no, no, no, no, I'm leaving myself in just a minute.
No, I'll check it in the morning.
Then the next day, that's when I slipped.
The Hammond file is in my office.
You may need it for that meeting this afternoon.
I'm sorry, I, uh, I don't remember.
Of course you do.
And you knew that because this office was sealed, there's no way I could have had that file unless I had come back here after I'd supposedly left for the night.
Oh, I'm sure you had a perfectly good reason.
Uh, you probably wanted to chat about business or something.
Actually I came back here to kill that second-rate blackmailer.
Neptune Ventures.
Oh, you had that figured out too.
Well, uh, not-not exactly.
I mean, uh, I just have a theory.
Ah, Grady! Oh, I don't think he can hear you, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I spotted him walking Connie to the subway as I was coming in.
And knowing Grady, I doubt very much if he'll hurry back.
Tell me about your theory.
Well, l-I think that Mr.
Whitman was threatening some of his clients.
I mean, his tax cheaters.
And instead of coming right out and demanding blackmail, he suggested, strongly suggested, that they should invest money in Neptune Ventures.
Ah.
Correct in all respects except one.
Neptune was my scene.
Ralph found out about it, and he started blackmailing me.
He said he wanted in or else, so I let him in.
I even let him put his name on the account.
Yes, and Grady's.
Ah, that was Ralph's idea.
He wanted a patsy to take the heat in case the deal fell through.
Well, I suppose I could have gone along, sharing the bounty with Ralph.
But you know there is something about having a blackmailer's knife at your throat.
I'd have been at his mercy for the rest of my life.
Mr.
Carlisle, you certainly can't expect to get away with another murder.
Oh, no? Why not? I have a perfect suspect.
Our ghost.
Another strangling, another message scrawled across the wall.
It's worth a try.
Besides what choice do I have? Learned this working my way through Texas, ma'am.
You okay? Oh, yes, yes, I'm fine.
AuntJess, you all right? Oh, Grady, in here.
I thought I heard a crash.
It was Mr.
Carlisle.
Wow! Did you do that? Oh, no, no.
It was, uh- [Hanratty.]
Well, now imagine that.
Popped right out of nowhere.
And saved my life, believe me.
You know, Lieutenant.
I don't see any real need for you to continue your search for him.
Do you? I mean, you have Mr.
Carlisle's confession.
And he never really took anything of value.
Not really.
Well, I could be searchin' for months and come up empty.
It's like tryin' to find one of the little people.
Nah, l-I wouldn't worry about him at all.
Then how about lunch? I saw a little place around the corner that has a special on corned beef and cabbage.
You don't say.
I'll get my coat and hat.
All right.
Oh, no, oh.
Timothy, what is it? Some thievin' bugger's pinched me new hat.
- [Woman.]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
Banshees, maybe.
And, of course, there's the little people.
You buy me out right now, or we go to court and you open your books.
The Internal Revenue Service does not wait.
We act quickly and decisively.
With compassion and understanding, of course.
You want to get rich or do you want to pay taxes? I hope he knows what he's doing.
Tax shelters and I missed that semester.
The stories I could tell you.
Suicide, murder- Who is it? [Woman.]
Mr.
Giles, I told you Mr.
Whitman is tied up and can't be disturbed.
That's a lot of garbage, honey.
You go tell Ralphie boy I want to talk to him now.
If you'll just take a seat, sir, I'm sure it won't be more than 15, 20 minutes.
Twenty minutes.
I left my brother-in-law running the store.
In another 20 minutes, I could be bankrupt.
[Intercom Beeps.]
Yes, Mr.
Whitman.
Grady, could you step into my office for a moment? Yes, sir.
Here, you, uh, might take these two as well.
And get to know these clients.
If you have any questions, ask.
Yes, sir.
We're very pleased with your progress, both Mr.
Carlisle and myself.
We feel you've, uh, you've earned this added responsibility.
Thank you, sir.
Ah, forget the sir.
It's Ralph.
Ralph, right.
Thank you, Sir Ralph.
I mean, just Ralph.
Sir.
Thank you.
Yoo-hoo, Mr.
Fletcher.
I brought what you told me to bring.
Hi, Mrs.
Ellis.
Come on in.
Nice young man.
I hope he knows what he's doing.
What the- [Clears Throat.]
I hear your aunt is coming for a visit.
Not this one.
Now, let's see.
Let's start with medical.
Here.
Here's a letter from my brother Irwin.
He had an operation and he asked me to come and help.
So I did.
God rest his soul.
Um, I'm afraid the I.
R.
S.
Won't consider this a proper deduction.
It's medical.
You said medical.
But your medical expenses, Mrs.
Ellis.
You said bring, so I brought.
Here.
You go through them and let me know what's what.
There you are.
Are you sure? Tax troubles I don't need.
Believe me, government agents won't be banging down your door with a warrant.
Ha-ha, that's what Nixon thought.
[Chuckles.]
Good night, Mrs.
Ellis.
Good night.
Grady, your aunt called from her hotel.
I told her quitting time was sixish, so, uh, she should be coming by anytime now.
Oh, thanks, Connie.
Yeah.
Well, I gotta go put on some war paint.
Good.
[Screams.]
[Scream.]
Oh! It's him.
I saw him! It's him.
It's him! Grady! AuntJess.
So you finally got him, Caldwell, congratulations.
Grady, are you all right? Yeah, yeah.
I think so.
Where's Connie? L-l-I better see if she's okay.
Better luck next time, Caldwell.
If you, uh, run into your ghost, you be sure to let us know, huh? Ghost? It's, uh, it's a long story, Mrs.
Fletcher.
It is J.
B.
Fletcher, isn't it? Grady's illustrious aunt? Yes.
How do you do? Ralph Whitman.
Come on, let me show you around.
I know Mr.
Carlisle is dying to meet you.
J.
B.
Fletcher.
Grady's aunt.
She's a very famous writer.
Oh, Mrs.
Fletcher.
How delightful to meet you at last.
Why, thank you.
I can see where Grady gets his sharp mind from.
I've been a fan of your books for 20 years.
Oh? Yes.
Well, thank you very much.
I always say there's nothing like a good, old-fashioned love story to help you forget your cares.
Well, actually, sir, she, uh- Oh, I quite agree with you, Mr.
Carlisle.
I mean, where would we be without Barbara Cartland? [Chuckles.]
Well, come on, Grady.
We have a reservation for an early dinner.
It was so nice meeting you, Mr.
Carlisle.
The pleasure was all mine.
Thank you.
I'll walk you to the elevator.
Oh, Paul, the Hammond account.
The file's in my office.
Would you like to take a look at it tonight? No, no, no.
I'm leaving myself in just a minute.
[Door Closes.]
[Whitman.]
I apologize, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Uh, Mr.
Carlisle's not much of a reader.
Oh, he was very gracious.
He wasn't the only one.
What I really want to hear about though is the ghost.
Oh, him.
Harry Caldwell, our security guard, and also our, uh, resident ghostbuster swears we have spooks running around.
[Laughs.]
Unbelievable.
Right, Grady? Um, right, sir.
I'll explain it to you over dinner, AuntJess.
[Man.]
Ah, Whitman.
Good, good.
Trying to catch you.
[Whitman.]
Mr.
Grimshaw.
I've been trying to interface with you now for several days.
Look, it's nearly 6:30.
Can't this wait? The Internal Revenue Service does not wait, Whitman.
We act quickly and decisively.
With compassion and understanding, of course.
Of course.
You, uh, you know the way, Mr.
Grimshaw.
Excuse me.
[Sighs.]
Well, have a nice dinner.
I have a feeling mine's going to be a bowl of cereal at midnight.
Oh, I gotta get my coat I'll be back in a second.
Feeling better after your scare? A little.
[Jessica.]
I've never been much of a believer in ghosts.
Neither was I until I went to work in this place.
Good night again, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Good night.
Good night, Mr.
Carlisle.
He seems, uh, nice.
Oh, yeah, real swell.
[Door Closes.]
Okay.
Let's go.
Oh, no, no, thanks.
I've got to work tonight.
Oh, Grady.
It's that time of the year, AuntJess.
For the next couple of months, it's 16 hours a day.
Boy, being an accountant sure isn't what I thought it would be.
I am really bushed.
Well, it doesn't show.
You look wonderful.
And there's nothing wrong with your appetite.
That's because somebody or something stole my lunch.
What? Not Mr.
Caldwell's ghost? You know, there is something.
Weird noises, sounds in the wall I can't explain.
You know, Caldwell says a lot of stuff's been taken the past few months.
You know, food, bits of clothing.
Well, sounds more like a petty thief than an apparition.
That building really is kinda weird.
You know, the day of the '29 crash, a couple of stockbrokers went up to the roof and- [Raps Table.]
Splat.
Oh, dear.
I mean, maybe there's no connection but- Grady, the only things that go bump in the night in this city are the taxicabs, believe me.
Good night, Grady.
Ah, thanks a lot, AuntJess.
See you tomorrow.
Mm-hmm.
[Woman.]
Taxi.
Mr.
Whitman? Mr.
Whitman? Mr.
Whitman, are you still here? Mr.
Whit- Oh, my gosh.
Operator.
Send help.
Send the police.
Oh- [Operator.]
Hello? Sir? Hello? Send the police where? Sir, are you there? Hello.
Sir, sir, are you there? [Humming.]
Is the lieutenant here? Ah.
Lieutenant Rafferty? That's Hanratty, mum.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I was looking for Grady Fletcher.
Ah, then you must be the lad's aunt.
It's a pleasure to meet you.
Timothy Hanratty at your service.
Oh, how do you do? I'm Jessica Fletcher.
I wonder if I could- Now calm yourself, ma'am.
The lad is fine.
He's just givin' a statement to one of me men.
He'll be along in just a few more minutes.
Tell me, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Did you, uh, know the victim? Oh, no.
L-I just met him this evening.
Terrible way to die.
The lad found him there in his chair, with the lamp cord tied tightly around his neck.
And, uh, as you can see, the perpetrator left behind his calling card.
But that doesn't make any sense.
I beg your pardon? Well, it-it makes it seem as if Mr.
Whitman had been killed by a madman or a stranger, but if a stranger had walked into his office, surely he wouldn't have remained seated at his desk.
Ah, an interesting observation.
And ifhe had been working alone in the room, with the outer door locked, he would have had to get up to go and admit whoever it was.
Ah, your nephew's right, mum.
You do have a keen mind for police work, but, uh, Mr.
Whitman wasn't the only one here.
That is to say, your nephew was on the scene.
Yes.
He, uh, told me that he had reported the crime.
That he did.
So obviously he didn't kill Mr.
Whitman.
Well, it's unlikely.
Unlikely? Now, now, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Let's not be giving ourselves a bellyache until after we've tasted the stew.
Ah, wait.
It seems that our killer has left more than just a message.
In all likelihood, that's Mr.
Whitman's hat and coat.
Most likely, but, uh- Then what's that on the floor? I think the killer forgot his hat.
Mrs.
Fletcher.
[Blows.]
This is mine.
I bought it this morning.
[Laughs.]
It must have fallen to the floor in the confusion.
Sergeant.
Yes.
Seal up that room.
Let no one in without my authorization.
Yes, sir.
Oh, and, Joe- Mm-hmm.
When you finish with young Fletcher, tell him his aunt is here.
Sure will.
[Hanratty.]
Are you sure? No, no, no, thank you.
I am absolutely devastated by Ralph's death.
He was like my right arm to me, as well as a very close personal friend.
Now if there is nothing more, Lieutenant, I really should get to my office.
Oh.
Then you'll be open today.
So hard on the heels of the death of your close personal friend.
I'm a C.
P.
A.
, Lieutenant, not a sentimentalist.
[Grady.]
Can you believe this? Opening the office after last night? Oh.
Wait till you've been here as long as me, Grady.
Nothing will surprise you.
Must have been awful, finding him like this.
Yeah, I felt like tossing my dinner.
That's nice.
What? Well, I just mean, most guys would try to act tough.
Act like it didn't get to them, you know.
That's what I like about you, Grady.
Really? Thanks.
Ah, Fletcher.
We have some important matters to discuss.
Your office? Mr.
Grimshaw, we've had a murder here last night.
Mr.
Whitman- I know about Whitman.
I listen to the radio.
That's why I'm talking to you now.
Come along.
I haven't got all day.
Bottom line, Fletcher.
You've got 48 hours to come up with the figures.
Figures? What figures? [Laughs.]
Don't play dumb with me, pal.
It's been tried by experts, believe me, some of whom are doing three-to-five in Leavenworth.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Neptune Ventures.
Whitman said you're the engine driving that crummy tax dodge.
Me? Save the dumb look.
All I want is one thing.
Facts, figures, names, dates, places, the whole megillah.
After you.
Oh, geez.
[Hanratty.]
I took the liberty of pullin'a small file we have on your activities, mum.
The young lady murdered by that cosmetic executive, your very own publisher sent away because of your ingenuity.
I'm surprised the department hasn't given you a gold badge.
[Laughs.]
Well, it's, uh, just a quirk of mind really.
The way I see things, you know.
You see them quite clearly.
[Laughs.]
It's a gift.
My dear Kathleen had it, God rest her soul.
Oh, you're a widower.
I'm sorry.
Oh, she's happy enough I'm sure.
Hobnobbin' with the rest of the saints in heaven.
But I suppose the thing I miss most about her is the evenings we'd be discussing my cases and me sittin' there listening to her clear, logical observations.
Be a fine thing to have another intelligent woman to share my thoughts.
Lieutenant.
And I'd deem it a great personal favor if you'd, uh, call me Timothy.
Timothy.
Have you ever been within kissing distance of the Blarney stone? Never had the pleasure.
[Carlisle.]
Tax shelters? Sorry, Grady, those were Whitman's babies.
Who's the I.
R.
S.
Agent? Mr.
Grimshaw.
That figures.
Years ago, Grimshaw tried to nail Ralph on a tax fraud case, and Ralph made mincemeat of him with his supervisors, so Grimshaw's been after him ever since.
Well, maybe he got him.
I mean, last night.
He was with Mr.
Whitman when we all left.
Yes, I told the lieutenant that this morning.
He said he'd check it out.
Listen, Grady.
My advise to you is to show Grimshaw everything, whatever you and Ralph were working on.
But, sir, we weren't working on anything.
I mean, at least not none of his tax shelters.
Really? I was sure that Ralph said- Oh, I'm sorry.
I must have misunderstood.
Well, just do the best you can, and if there's ever any trouble, remember this firm is behind you 100%.
[Stammers.]
Morning, sir.
Good morning, Joe.
Any luck? Not yet.
Ghost hunting.
Sir, that I.
R.
S.
Agent Grimshaw was here.
I took the liberty to question him.
He admits he was with the victim until about 7:00, then he left.
Caldwell, the security guy, saw him go.
Oh, any word about Whitman's wife? We're still trying to find her.
Mrs.
Whitman has been strangely missing for the past 18 hours.
Well, if you'll excuse me, Timothy, I'm going to try and locate my nephew.
Fine, fine.
But if you come up with one of those famous inspirations- I'll find you.
Mr.
Caldwell? Your guys are wasting their time, Lieutenant.
This-This old building is like a rabbit warren.
Now your spook could be hiding anywhere.
Spook, is it? Mr.
Caldwell, you're not telling me that you believe in ghosts.
You know, I don't know what I should believe in anymore.
I understand you saw Mr.
Grimshaw leave the building last night.
When was that? Around 7:00, you say? Right.
And what time did you leave? Eight o'clock.
Mr.
Whitman was alive and alone when I left.
Easy, man.
I'm makin' no accusations.
The coroner says he couldn't possibly have died before 9:00, so if you're tellin' me the truth, you have nothin' to worry about.
Tax shelters and I missed that semester.
And this Neptune Ventures isn't in anything I've got.
The files must be in Ralph Whitman's office.
Oh, great.
The police have got it sealed- [Woman.]
This is ridiculous.
I have every right to go into my husband's office.
Lana, the police have it locked up.
There's nothing I can do.
Paul, you make me sick.
Hello again, Mrs.
Whitman.
Uh, do I know you? Well, we haven't actually met, but you tried to commandeer my taxi last night.
Down, outside this building.
Oh, no, I wasn't at this building last night.
Excuse me.
Ah, Mrs.
Whitman.
You were here.
And under the circumstances, l- I feel obligated to tell Lieutenant Hanratty.
Wouldn't you rather just come along with me? I mean, I'm sure there's some very reasonable explanation.
Sure, why not? I guess I have to talk to him eventually.
Catch you later, Paul.
Grady, the Hammond file is in my office.
You may need it for that meeting this afternoon.
Yes, sir.
Thanks.
Okay.
I was here to see my husband last night.
What of it? Now, now, Mrs.
Whitman.
There's no need to be testy.
I did not kill my husband.
Perhaps not.
But we had a great difficulty in reaching you.
L-I had a late engagement.
Very late.
I also got up very late.
Not in your own apartment? No.
Look, Lieutenant.
I had my life and Ralph had his.
Our marriage was a convenience for both of us, financially and otherwise.
Well, we-we took our own vacations.
My taste ran to the Riviera and Grenoble, and he liked the Cayman Islands of all places.
And on those few occasions when he needed me on his arm, I smiled at all the right people.
Any other questions? Ah, Mrs.
Fletcher? I just wanted to ask, at the time that I saw you, I assume your husband was still in the meeting with the Internal Revenue agent.
Well, yes.
Okay, I actually didn't talk to him.
I got to the office door.
It was locked.
I knocked.
Nobody answered so- Excuse me, sir.
Uh, we got trouble.
Upstairs.
L-l-I saw it, soon as I walked in with my cart.
There are ghosts here, sir.
Hiding in the walls.
Every place.
L-I can hear 'em, smell 'em.
Now, there, there.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
Banshees, maybe.
And of course, there's the little people.
But ghosts? No, no, no.
It looks fresh, Lieutenant.
I can tell you this.
It wasn't here last night.
Where's that lead? The office next door.
Let's take a look.
You must have had quite a fright.
Oh, I still can't get used to it.
The things that you see and hear, Mrs.
Weems- Is there any particular place where the spirits seem stronger? I've worked here nearly girl and woman.
The stories I could tell you about what's gone on within these walls robbery, suicide, murder.
Would you mind if I looked around? Do as you like.
I've had enough of this place.
Who is it? Just stay right where you are, ma'am.
Don't you come any closer.
Who are you? It don't matter none.
I ain't gonna hurt you.
I haven't hurt anybody.
Then it was you who scrawled the warnings on the walls.
No.
It wasn't me.
I live here.
I wouldn't do that to my home.
Live here? Where? There's places.
Warm places.
It's better than being out there in the cold.
I find enough to get by.
Some pieces of clothing, food, things to read.
I get by.
You write real nice stories, Mrs.
Fletcher.
You tell 'em, you tell 'em that I ain't hurt anybody.
Then you know about the murder of Mr.
Whitman.
I been watchin' all day from here and there.
This old building's got passageways that even I ain't found, with all the remodeling that's been done over the years.
If you know anything, you should come forward.
No! I don't know nothing.
Now you tell 'em that.
Now you just walk straight the way you was going.
It will take you to the fire stairs.
Wait! Don't go! Oh.
[Jessica.]
Timothy, I believed him.
The resident ghost of that building is definitely not a killer.
[Timothy.]
I think maybe his blarney works better than mine.
[Jessica.]
Oh, no.
Look, ifhe was a crazed killer, he could have easily killed me and left me there in the passage, and no one would have been any the wiser.
[Timothy.]
That seems to leave a problem for both of us.
[Jessica.]
Oh? [Timothy.]
Well, if this phantom isn't our killer, and there was no one else in the building last night, that seems to leave only one possible suspect.
Grady? Well, he certainly had a great deal to gain from Whitman's death.
New responsibilities, a promotion.
That's ridiculous.
The thought gives me no pleasure, Jessica.
But perhaps you have, uh, some idea that hasn't as yet occurred to me.
Well, I'm sure that Lana Whitman has occurred to you.
Yes, yes, the merry widow.
Yeah, I mean she may have been lying about the door being locked.
And I have this feeling that she had a very strong motive.
Oh, yes, indeed.
The lady is involved with some Bulgarian poet down in the Village.
Aha! And since Ralph Whitman was right up there financially, perhaps his death gave Lana the best of both possible worlds.
I'll check into that.
Is there anything else? [Carlisle.]
What are you talking about? He's crazy.
No, no, no, no, no.
No, you defer capital gains with a trust fund.
You borrow against the trust and use the cash to leverage the buy of the condo units.
Look, Myron, if you'd prefer to take tax advice from your son-in-law, be my guest.
Just a minute, Myron.
We've unsealed the Whitman office, Mr.
Carlisle.
You can use it.
Oh, thank you.
Would you tell Mr.
Fletcher that? Already did.
Good.
Myron.
[Sighs.]
Myron, let me ask you a question.
Do you want to get rich or do you want to pay taxes.
Which is it? [Sighs.]
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
It's as if this Neptune Ventures doesn't even exist.
[Jessica.]
But it has to, doesn't it? I mean, isn't that what Mr.
Grimshaw wants to know about? He must know something.
Well, if he does, he's not telling me.
Maybe there's something here in his appointment book.
My goodness.
He's certainly had a very busy schedule these past few weeks.
You know, I don't get it.
Mr.
Whitman really was a pretty good guy.
I mean, who'd want to kill him? Marty Giles.
What? Grady, who's Marty Giles? Well, he's a client but- Well, look.
He was here yesterday.
Yeah, mad as hell too.
And there's a penciled-in notation next to his name.
NV.
NV- Neptune's Ventures.
But I checked the files.
There is nothing in here on Neptune.
Are you sure? Yeah, I'm positive.
That's very odd.
Unless Neptune Ventures was the kind of thing that you don't keep a file on.
I think we should pay a visit to this Mr.
Marty Giles.
Oh, 60 bucks a pop? Come on, Marty, you're killin' me.
That's 20 bucks below what I paid for these things.
Come on, Charlie, paid? What paid? You got a receipt for those? Who you think you're talkin' to? All right.
I lost it, huh? Speakin' of gettin' lost- Okay, okay.
Sixty bucks, but you're a thief, Marty.
[Laughs.]
No kiddin'.
See Elsie.
Pardon me, lady.
Pardon me.
Eh, excuse me, Mr.
Giles? Yeah, whatcha selling? Ah, I beg your pardon? Anybody calls me Mr.
Is sellin'.
Excuse me.
If you could just spare me a moment, I'd like to talk to you about Ralph Whitman.
Who are you, his replacement? What? Well, I heard he got knocked off.
I just figured they'd be sendin' over somebody else to bust my chops.
Elsie, call those creeps over in the Bronx.
Ask 'em where's those watches? Ah, Mr.
Giles, I'm not from your accounting office.
Well, that's good.
Those gonifs-They were the start of all my problems.
Oh, you mean you're going out of business.
Going out of business? What are you talking about? Oh, I'm sorry.
The sign in the window.
Lady, that sign has been in the window since 1968 when I bought this place.
If I wasn't going out of business, I couldn't stay in business, not in this neighborhood.
What are you, from out of town or something? Actually, yes.
Yeah, figures.
Yeah, I'm Jessica Fletcher, and my nephew works for Carlisle and Associates- And I'm not interested.
Look, I know you're very busy, but I want to ask you about Neptune Ventures.
Whoa, whoa, here.
Who told you about that? Well, an agent from the Internal Revenue.
That's it, lady, case closed.
I'm busy.
Oh, but Mr.
Giles- Look, I got nothing to say to you about nothin'.
Now do yourself a favor and take a hike, because I don't wanna do or say anything ungentlemanly.
Excuse me.
Okay, folks, this ain't no library.
There's no readin' here.
Do it and move out.
Okay, thank you.
Sorry, Mrs.
Ellis.
Mr.
Fletcher's going to be a little late.
So I'll wait.
I've had plenty of practice.
Where is he? He's at the I.
R.
S.
Then they're making trouble? Not at all.
It's very normal for a C.
P.
A.
To be at the I.
R.
S.
[Mrs.
Ellis.]
So many initials.
I'm sure that means trouble.
[Grimshaw.]
I have had inquiries where the taxpayer was accompanied by his accountant, but I've never had an inquiry where the accountant was accompanied by his aunt.
Well, actually, Mr.
Grimshaw, I am working with the police on the Ralph Whitman murder.
Unofficially, of course.
I see.
And what does Whitman's death got to do with my investigation of your nephew's involvement with fraud against the government? But that has yet to be proved.
Proved? Madam, we are the Internal Revenue Service.
The burden of proof is on your nephew, and it is my considered opinion that he is the architect behind this amateurish boondoggle.
Sir, l-I don't even know what Neptune Ventures is.
No? Well, neither do I, precisely.
But it has been used for a write-off for large so-called losses on the returns of six Carlisle clients.
One of whom is Marty Giles.
Perhaps I'm interrogating the wrong Fletcher.
I did try to talk to Mr.
Giles about it, but he refused to speak to me.
And he told me he knew nothing about it, it was- how did he put it- "Something Ralph Whitman put me into.
" And since you've been Whitman's assistant for the past few months, and now have all his accounts- [Phone Rings.]
Grimshaw.
Really? Yes, yes, excellent news.
Excellent.
I'll expect a full report by close of business today.
Huh.
Ah, despite what you may think, Mrs.
Fletcher, we are not without heart here at the I.
R.
S.
We'vejust made a hairdresser in Greenpoint a very wealthy woman.
She supplied us with information that resulted in a $2.
6 million tax evasion.
Her 10% informant's fee will net her a tidy $260,000.
You mean you actually pay people to inform on their friends and neighbors.
I prefer to think of it as a reward for patriotism.
Now then, Mr.
Fletcher.
Let me ask you this one more time: What is Neptune Ventures? [Lana.]
You deal in dollars and cents, Paul, so let's talk bottom line.
My marriage to Ralph, as you know, was something less than blissful.
All five years of it.
And since I didn't get much in the way of love or companionship, I think I'm entitled to something tangible for all those years of ignominious existence.
Lana, I'm very busy- Ralph owned five percent of this money-making machine, and now it's mine, and I'm ready to sell.
Are you? Zoltan wants us to move to the coast of Spain.
He says New York no longer inspires him, and I think we can manage very nicely on $500,000.
You have an inflated opinion of what this business is worth.
$100,000 a year, five years.
I may have sold out cheap but at least let me collect.
Lana, I have someone waiting for me.
Listen to me, you arrogant horse's patootie.
You buy me out right now, or we go to court and you open your books.
Somehow l-I have this big, big feeling that you really don't want to do that.
Am I right? Ah, there you are.
I was just upstairs, looking for you, Mr.
Fletcher.
Me? Gives me no great pleasure, son, but, uh, I've got to bring you in for questioning.
What? Lieutenant! The gentleman from the Internal Revenue, Grimshaw, he just called with information that ties your nephew to a tax fraud and just possibly to a motive for murder.
Come along, son.
[Hanratty.]
Have you ever been to the Cayman Islands, son? Well, yeah, a couple of times.
Grady, I never knew that.
Well, it was just business, AuntJess.
Mr.
Whitman sent me down a couple of times to meet with some investors.
I was only there a day or two.
And did you do business with the New Commonwealth Bank and Trust? No! The Neptune Ventures setup was set there about six months ago.
It's being held in your name and the late Ralph Whitman.
This is crazy.
And they've got your signature on the card.
Then it's a forgery.
I never signed anything.
Wait.
I seem to remember that Mr.
Whitman spent his vacations in the Caymans.
If anyone's behind this clumsy attempt to frame Grady, I'm sure it was him.
Well, I'll have a bit o' trouble askin' him about that, now won't I? Look, son, Between you and me and these walls, I also am having a bit of trouble believing you're involved.
But the commissioner- Oh, Timothy, hang the commissioner.
Since when is an Irishman intimidated by a bureaucrat? Now, look, you asked for my help, now I'm asking for yours.
Now let's have one more look at those files back at Whitman's office.
[Grady.]
Again? AuntJess, we've been through them a dozen times.
But at least now we know who and what we're looking for.
Mr.
Grimshaw gave me a list of six clients who were involved in Neptune Ventures.
Concentrate on these.
Meanwhile, I am going to have a chat with one of them.
And this time, I am going to get some straight answers.
Lou, stop busting my chops, will ya? I mean, look, you wanna make a deal with Shelley, make a deal.
Just- Uh, look, the last load of toasters you shipped me, junk.
You bring me a gross, I'll go maybe nine fifty.
Otherwise, give Shelley the headache.
Lady, I got no time.
Make time, Mr.
Giles, or would you rather do it.
Ah, no, someone nice as you shouldn't go around makin' threats.
I'm sorry, but I don't have time for the niceties.
You said that the people at Carlisle Associates were what? What was that word? Gonifs? Gonifs- thieves, crooks.
While you are the soul of honesty.
I'm a businessman not a social work- I suppose you're taking in a lot of money the government doesn't know about? What is this? Twenty questions? And your accountants know all about it.
They might even want a piece of your action.
Ha, if you think I'm going to make a comment on that.
They might even offer some protection.
You've been watching too many Cagney movies.
Mr.
Giles, at the moment, my nephew is under suspicion of murder.
If I have to, I will gladly trade you for him.
Now how about the truth, just between you and me.
Okay, somebody got wise to what I was doing here, maybe those Carlisle creeps.
I was told to make a certain investment or or they'd go to the I RS and collect the reward.
You were told by whom? I don't know.
Everything was done through the mail.
And the investment was Neptune Ventures.
Yeah.
How did you know that? That's not important.
So all the checks that you made out were to Neptune Ventures.
Yes, and mailed to a P.
O.
Box.
Believe me, it was a lot cheaper than what the I.
R.
S.
Would have done to me.
Blackmail by long distance by someone who was very knowledgeable about your finances, Mr.
Giles.
Thank you very much.
You've been very helpful.
Listen, lady, uh, you're not gonna have to tell the government about this, are you? Oh, I'm sorry.
They already know.
[Laughs.]
Well, that's great.
Now I really am going out of business.
[Grady.]
Neptune Ventures.
We're not even sure it ties in with the murder.
The killer could be someone else altogether.
Maybe even your ghost.
[Yawns.]
I'm going to go splash some water on my face.
You take a look.
Maybe you can find something in this.
Oh, hey, Grady? Hmm? Could you do me a favor? Yeah, sure, anything.
Um.
Oh.
I guess I'm kinda spooked.
Do you mind walking me to the subway? It'll only take a couple of minutes.
Yeah, I'll get my coat.
Thanks.
Okay.
Let's go.
Okay.
Hammond.
Charles S.
Hammond? Where have I heard that name before? Oh, dear.
It can't be.
Or can it? Can it what, Mrs.
Fletcher? Mr.
Carlisle, I thought you'd left for the day.
Oh, the weather's turning ugly, and I came back for my umbrella.
Hammond, Charles S.
Is this what can't be, Mrs.
Fletcher? Oh, uh, well, uh, for a moment I thought-I thought it was a friend of my late husband.
Ah, he and his wife lived in Cabot Cove for years.
And, uh, then I remembered it was Charles M.
Hammond.
M for Maurice.
Not that gentleman at all.
Hmm, interesting coincidence.
Yes.
You're very quick, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I'm surprised and a little saddened that you caught it.
I caught what? Such a little mistake.
And yet so stupid.
Well, l-I really must be leaving.
Finding a cab will be impossible in this weather.
You won't be needing a cab, I'm afraid.
I just can't believe how careless I was that first evening.
Ralph was just about to walk you to the elevator and then he turned to me and said: Oh, uh, Paul, the Hammond account.
The file's in my office.
Would you like to look at it tonight? No, no, no, no, no, I'm leaving myself in just a minute.
No, I'll check it in the morning.
Then the next day, that's when I slipped.
The Hammond file is in my office.
You may need it for that meeting this afternoon.
I'm sorry, I, uh, I don't remember.
Of course you do.
And you knew that because this office was sealed, there's no way I could have had that file unless I had come back here after I'd supposedly left for the night.
Oh, I'm sure you had a perfectly good reason.
Uh, you probably wanted to chat about business or something.
Actually I came back here to kill that second-rate blackmailer.
Neptune Ventures.
Oh, you had that figured out too.
Well, uh, not-not exactly.
I mean, uh, I just have a theory.
Ah, Grady! Oh, I don't think he can hear you, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I spotted him walking Connie to the subway as I was coming in.
And knowing Grady, I doubt very much if he'll hurry back.
Tell me about your theory.
Well, l-I think that Mr.
Whitman was threatening some of his clients.
I mean, his tax cheaters.
And instead of coming right out and demanding blackmail, he suggested, strongly suggested, that they should invest money in Neptune Ventures.
Ah.
Correct in all respects except one.
Neptune was my scene.
Ralph found out about it, and he started blackmailing me.
He said he wanted in or else, so I let him in.
I even let him put his name on the account.
Yes, and Grady's.
Ah, that was Ralph's idea.
He wanted a patsy to take the heat in case the deal fell through.
Well, I suppose I could have gone along, sharing the bounty with Ralph.
But you know there is something about having a blackmailer's knife at your throat.
I'd have been at his mercy for the rest of my life.
Mr.
Carlisle, you certainly can't expect to get away with another murder.
Oh, no? Why not? I have a perfect suspect.
Our ghost.
Another strangling, another message scrawled across the wall.
It's worth a try.
Besides what choice do I have? Learned this working my way through Texas, ma'am.
You okay? Oh, yes, yes, I'm fine.
AuntJess, you all right? Oh, Grady, in here.
I thought I heard a crash.
It was Mr.
Carlisle.
Wow! Did you do that? Oh, no, no.
It was, uh- [Hanratty.]
Well, now imagine that.
Popped right out of nowhere.
And saved my life, believe me.
You know, Lieutenant.
I don't see any real need for you to continue your search for him.
Do you? I mean, you have Mr.
Carlisle's confession.
And he never really took anything of value.
Not really.
Well, I could be searchin' for months and come up empty.
It's like tryin' to find one of the little people.
Nah, l-I wouldn't worry about him at all.
Then how about lunch? I saw a little place around the corner that has a special on corned beef and cabbage.
You don't say.
I'll get my coat and hat.
All right.
Oh, no, oh.
Timothy, what is it? Some thievin' bugger's pinched me new hat.