Taping starts in six minutes
Well, why didn't you say so?
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote...
If you wanna be free, all you gotta do is say so.
It's not that easy, and you know it.
Are you dumpin' Callie too?
No, just you three.
The people in Vegas, they want a new sound.
The doctor said heart failure; you said poison.
I'd keep talk like that to myself.
I didn't kill him, Jessica.
Ben Coleman died on camera.
And we have a WDBX-clusive.
The Saint Charles cemetery, please.
Ma'am, that place is dead.
Yeah, you see,
the secret is in using stale beer to make the fish stock.
Stale beer?
Yeah, it makes a roux for the finest gumbo
you ever set a lip to.
Well, that is a marvelously interesting recipe.
Yeah. You know, I always say that whatever time a man's got,
spendin' it with good food, good friends, good music...
And good conversation...
Why, a man can't die no ways but happy.
And a philosopher to boot.
Say, why don't we take a spin around town?
Off the meter.
We can, uh, talk some more,
and I can show you some of the sights.
'Cause ain't a man breathin'
knows New Orleans better than I do.
Oh, that is such a temptation, and I'm a shameless tourist.
But you know, my plane was late.
And I'm supposed to be at station WDBX
to tape a segment for New Orleans Today.
Oh! Miss Jessica. Are you a celebrity?
Well, Lafayette, I sincerely hope not, but, uh...
Uh-uh.
The taping starts in six minutes.
Well, why didn't you say so?
With two minutes to spare!
Oh, is that all?
Oh, if I hadn't gotten stuck behind that bus...
What about my luggage?
Oh, I'll drop 'em off at the hotel.
You go on. You're gonna be late.
- Thank you, Lafayette. - Okay.
And don't forget, I got you later for sightseein'!
- Oh, absolutely. - All right.
Jonathan!
Jonathan?
Jonathan!
Jessica!
Jessica, what a surprise!
Surprise? Jonathan!
You're two days early. The taping's on Wednesday.
But l-I put it down for Monday the 20th.
No, no, no, no, no. Wednesday the 22nd.
Oh...
Wait.
Good heavens! I transposed the dates!
Jonathan, I'm supposed to be dedicating a new school library.
Forty minutes ago.
Well, I'm sure they've worked out by now that you're not coming.
Jess, I can't believe it.
For the next 48 hours, I've got you exactly where I want you.
Hmm?
Here! In New Orleans.
It's a Cajun paradise. The cradle of jazz.
Oozing the warmth of provincial France.
Boasting the most succulent culinary delights
this side of Paris.
Tastes and smells...
Worthy of kings and their consorts.
I'm glad to see that your move south
has not dimmed your gift for hyperbole.
Well, if you're referring to my gift for showmanship,
the compliment is gratefully accepted.
I'm just a bit worried about
what you've got cooked up for me this time.
- Let's go! - Go where?
To the French Quarter.
It's a place where jazz musicians hang out.
I have one appointment,
and then, I will give you my personal tour
of this magnificent city!
Do you know, if you stood here long enough
eventually you would see every living jazz musician worthy of the name.
Afternoon, Eddie!
- Oh, Mr. Hawley. - This is my good friend, Jessica Fletcher.
Eddie Walters.
- Hello, Eddie. - Pleased to meet you ma'am.
Is Aaron here?
Yeah, he's over in the corner talking with Ben.
I can't talk right now, Mr. Hawley.
I have to get this coffee to Ben while it's still hot.
He don't like it if it ain't hot.
Excuse me.
There's no denying that that played a big part in my moving to Vegas
but so did a lot of hard work.
Lean... Mean times.
Ain't nobody can say that Ben Coleman didn't pay his dues.
And then some.
You know, I remember the--
Ben...
Fellas, look, I'll see you tonight
at the Bourbon Street Barn, hear?
Be sure and be there now, hmm?
You see something you don't like, Mr. Kramer?
Lots of things. But how would I know?
Uh, Lisa, honey, uh...
Just a lot of dull business talk, okay?
Ben.
I'd like you to meet a very old friend of mine
from Maine, Jessica Fletcher.
Ben Coleman and his manager, Aaron Kramer.
Mrs. Fletcher, it certainly is nice to meet you.
Any friend of Jonathan's here is a friend of mine.
Why don't you have a seat and join us?
Oh, thanks.
Is, uh, this your first trip to New Orleans, Mrs. Fletcher?
Yes, but it definitely isn't my last.
JB Fletcher. Yes, ma'am.
I always read your books when I'm flying on business.
The trouble is, they keep me awake.
You see the bags under the eyes? You did this to me.
I apologize, Mr. Kramer.
Aaron. Please call me Aaron.
Uh, Jonathan, has the station set a new air date
for running the tape?
One week before the opening in Las Vegas.
Oh, that sounds good. Real good.
Oh, Jonathan, in your schmooze with the audience,
forget that "Good-bye new Orleans; Hello, Las Vegas" bit,
will you?
There's no need to make it sound like any doors are being closed.
The Ben Coleman quintet will always be a part of New Orleans.
Wherever else they may be.
Is that so?
Well, the word is that Jimmy and Hec and me
ain't gonna be a part of nothin'.
Eubie, we're right in the middle of settling it now.
Word is, you're hiring a whole new backup.
Well, we'll talk about it later, fellas.
We'll talk about it now.
All those years I nursed you,
wrote all your arrangements,
split the last bean on the plate.
Hell, I stood up with you when you married Callie.
You dumpin' her too, Ben?
I said we'd talk about it later.
Are you dumpin' Callie too?
No, just you three.
Now, fellas, the people in Vegas,
they want a new sound.
Aw, come on.
We got sounds even we've never heard.
I wanted a new look. Something a little, uh, fresher.
Not so... Worn out.
If you'll excuse me...
Nice meeting you, Mrs. Fletcher.
Sixteen years. I ought to kill you, Ben.
Yeah.
Yeah, but you won't, will you, Eubie? Hmm?
'Cause what little guts you got
are bobbin' behind your belt buckle there, huh?
Eubie!
Ben, he didn't mean that.
Oh, yeah? What did he mean?
Have you guys been out of work since I started bookin' for ya?
I'll take care of you.
I've got other groups.
Yeah, sure. But not in Ben's class.
Oh, what the hell.
Eubie...
Mrs. Fletcher, I'm truly sorry about this.
Is this gonna interfere with the taping tonight?
No! Eubie's a pro.
He'll be there.
So will Jimmy and Hec.
So... We touch base
at the Barn, 7:30.
Fine.
I hope, Mrs. Fletcher, that, well,
maybe you plan to make it.
You'll hear an evening of rare music.
Well, I don't really know...
- She'll be there. - Great.
Delighted to meet you,
and I'll see you tonight.
Bye-bye.
Taping in a barn?
I was saving it as a surprise.
There's gonna be a special performance
at the Bourbon Street Barn tonight.
Jess?
- I guarantee you'll love it. - I know.
This is unbelievable. I was prepared for a concert hall.
I told you the city was full of surprises.
This way...
Aaron should be out back in the office.
Eddie. There you are.
I was wondering when you'd get here.
Well, me and Ben was talkin'.
Where is he?
Oh, he's over in the office.
Aaron wanted to see him.
What's that for?
Because you're special.
You're special to me too, Eddie.
Thanks.
- You know what, Callie? - Hmm?
Eubie ain't goin' to Las Vegas.
Neither is Jimmy or Hec.
Eubie told me.
He was mad.
Yes. He was mad. And hurt.
Callie, he told you something else.
Ben's latest?
She won't last any longer than any of the others.
Sometimes...
I don't like Ben much.
Sometimes I don't either.
But we can't help lovin' him, can we?
Ben...
I've always been everything you say, buddy boy.
I just don't have to keep it a secret anymore!
Well, I'll tell you something, buddy boy...
You keep on the way you're going,
and you're gonna be the one to get hurt.
You're a great talent, Ben.
It's gonna be a real shame that...
People will never get to see how great!
Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.
Well, there's nothing like a good knockdown, drag-out
between friends, huh?
Well, I understand it clears the air.
Yes, ma'am. Sometimes.
Oh, I have seats for us.
Have a good show, Jonathan. This way.
Magic time in half an hour.
I'd rather have a cigarette.
Gum is your idea.
I heard what happened at Le Poulet Rouge this afternoon.
You got somebody reportin' everything I do, Callie?
- No. - The hell you don't.
Dropping them is wrong.
We've been together a lot of years.
What's the matter?
You worried I'm gonna drop you too?
No, I'm not worried.
If you wanna be free, all you gotta do is say so.
It's not that easy, and you know it.
And you know why.
Yeah, we got each other forever.
Come rain or come shine, huh?
Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen.
At the beginning of the show,
I said we had a special treat for you.
A little added something
from Ben Coleman to say, "Thank you, New Orleans!"
What better treat,
and what better way for Ben to pay tribute to his mentor,
the gone, but not forgotten, "Sweetman" Buddy Brunson
than to play his own rendition of a song Buddy made famous,
played on Buddy's own "Miss Emma,"
The Bourbon Street Concerto.
Ben? Ben!
Somebody call an ambulance!
I'm a doctor.
He's dead.
It's like something out of one of your books.
As a matter of fact, it is.
Mrs. Coleman insists she's all right.
It's a shame for someone that young to suffer a coronary.
I'm sorry, doctor, but I don't believe
that Mr. Coleman died of a heart attack.
The slight color drain around his lips?
The faint blue tint on the moons of his fingernails?
I didn't notice.
I'm sure a coroner's examination
will show that he was poisoned.
Poisoned?
I'm not really conversant on the subject of poisons.
Well, it's unlikely that you would be with this one.
It's very rare, very deadly, and very fast-acting.
Murder on the Amazon. Of course!
Which one of you called this in?
I did.
Alan Collyer. I'm an intern at Queen of Mercy.
Looks like heart failure to me,
but she claims he was poisoned.
Who?
Um...
What's your name?
I'm Jonathan Hawley, from station...
I know who you are. I don't know this lady.
My name is Jessica Fletcher. And yours?
Detective Lieutenant Simeon Kershaw.
Where'd you get your degree in pathology, Ms. Fletcher?
Mrs. I'm a writer.
Mystery novels?
I thought you were in forensic medicine.
The doctor said heart failure; you said poison.
While I was doing research on my novel Murder on the Amazon,
I came across an obscure curare derivative,
which is almost impossible to trace.
I see.
An obscure, South American poison.
I don't read mystery novels, Mrs. Fletcher,
but I do read people.
And I know a publicity stunt when I see one.
Now, look here, lieutenant--
An autopsy costs time and money.
If one is ordered,
the coroner had better find something besides a coronary,
or I'll see you both charged
with impedin' a police investigation.
Now, do you still say poison, Mrs. Fletcher?
In chapter 18...
Ten o'clock tomorrow. In my office.
Cops.
That's the one thing about New Orleans
that's no different from the rest of the country.
Hawley. I want to talk to you.
In private, if you don't mind.
Why didn't I get a call from you instead of from your cameraman?
What call?
Do you realize we have less than an hour
to get the Coleman tapes edited for the eleven o'clock news?
That's insane. Ben Coleman died on camera.
Well, I know.
And we have a WDBX-clusive.
You can't show that!
But it's news, Hawley, news.
Showing him die?
That's sordid.
I'm tellin' you, you either get me the tapes,
or I'm gonna go see the station manager.
Fine.
Let's go and see him together.
All right.
- Jessica? - It's all right, Jonathan.
I'll drive her to the hotel.
Uh, tell her I'll call her.
Mrs. Fletcher, eh, Jonathan had to leave. He said he'd call you.
I didn't much like the look of that man.
Carl Turnbull. News director, WDBX.
He wanted the tapes of Ben to play on the eleven o'clock news.
Jonathan went with him to have it out with the station manager
and I said I would drive you home.
Oh, thanks but I'll take a cab.
Oh no, it's no bother. I'd like to.
Anyway, I'd like to buy you a nightcap.
Sleep is not going to come easy tonight.
Ben wasn't the nicest man you'd ever meet,
but he sure had talent.
That made up for a lot with me.
But not with everyone who knew him.
No. Not with everyone.
Did he always have a container of coffee on Callie's piano
during the performance?
Well, like the gum,
he was trying to break some bad habits.
The trying stopped, though, with alcohol and cigarettes,
even with Carol helping.
- Carol? - Mrs. Coleman.
Ben named her Callie
because he thought Carol was too high-toned.
But she is a high-toned lady. And there is another one.
That's Mama Creole.
She's very good.
Yes. Mrs. Fletcher...
Do you mind if I call you Jessica?
Oh, of course not.
Well, Jessica, there are thousands
of good ones in this town.
Thousands.
And most of 'em can't make a living.
Even so,
I have wished to be one of them for 25 years.
- Do you play? - No. I can't blow a lick.
But I sure can listen.
So I stick with those who can, and I try to help them...
Make a few bucks.
I understand you do quite a bit of that.
Well, I try.
I have a sextet touring the orient.
Ben's group just got back from South America.
I have several groups around town.
I have several, uh, singles.
Singers...
I see. You're a patron of the arts.
No.
That's somebody with class.
No, Jessica, I'm just a talent broker with a tin ear.
A reminder:
You are watching the tragic death of Ben Coleman,
as taped from the Jonathan Hawley program,
New Orleans Today, a WDBX-clusive.
While there is no official word, we have just learned
the police are investigating the possibility of homicide.
We expect this to be confirmed momentarily.
At which time, we will switch to our--
How to move from insipid talk show host
to muckraking, news hawk in one easy lesson.
You're wrong, lieutenant.
Jonathan Hawley is not capable of--
Don't defend him to me, Mrs. Fletcher.
That tape of last night's news speaks for itself.
And for Hawley.
You'd have thrived very nicely in the old West, Kershaw.
You've a fine talent for hip-shooting.
Jonathan...
Too bad it's not supported by a semblance of intelligence
or understanding.
The station manager sided with Turnbull.
Left me no choice. I quit.
And spent the rest of the night celebrating.
From Basin Street to the Bayou.
Oh, Jonathan. I am so sorry.
Looks like I made a mistake.
You'll be making another one
if you don't listen to what Jessica's telling you.
If she says that Ben Coleman was murdered, you can--
Hawley, please. It was a long night.
Startin' with roustin' that bookstore owner out of bed.
Not half-bad, lady.
Know when the coroner called this mornin'
to say "heart attack"?
I told him to go back and double check
the inner lining of the liver.
Sure enough, just like in the book.
Well, your apology is accepted, lieutenant.
I suppose you're aware that he and his group
recently returned from South America.
Mm. Somethin' else the coroner came up with.
Heavy traces of junk in Coleman's system.
- Narcotics? - No surprise.
When I first met him, he was a two-bit street punk.
He got lucky, but he never changed.
We'd been tipped that one or two of them
might have been doin' some smugglin'...
Couldn't nail 'em.
And whatever else was brought in,
obviously poison was too.
Ah... poetic.
You know, when I was a beat cop...
This is about 14 years ago...
Ben Coleman was just another punk kid.
I had him and his brother, dead to rights,
in a liquor store holdup.
Clerk was killed.
Ben's girlfriend Callie swore that they were with her.
Well, we couldn't break the alibi.
The brother died in a street fight a couple of years later.
Now Ben's got his.
The question is, how was he poisoned?
I mean, did the coroner notice any marks on his body?
You mean, like a dart bein' shot from a trumpet?
Could it have been in the coffee he drank?
I thought of that.
I had my men go back this mornin' and look for the cup.
I looked last night, but the cup was gone.
The killer took it with him?
Or her.
There were a dozen people there
with both motive and opportunity.
Jonathan, you had three cameras going last night.
Do you suppose that Ben Coleman's murderer...
Could also be on that tape?
Give us the wider angle.
Can you start it where Mr. Hawley
introduces the Buddy Brunson tribute?
For Ben to pay homage to his mentor...
The gone, but not forgotten,
great "Sweetman" Buddy Brunson...
Fast-forward to just before he collapses.
Stop it, right there.
What is it?
Back it up just a little.
That's it. That's it.
Now. Watch Callie.
Roll the tape forward, just a little bit.
There. You see? The coffee couldn't have been poisoned.
Callie is drinking out of the cup.
Maybe she isn't drinking the coffee.
Maybe she's faking it.
Or the poison is somewhere else.
Well, then, why did the cup disappear?
Who took it?
Jonathan Hawley.
You are no longer an employee of this station.
Now, who gave you the permission
to use this equipment for your own personal...
Lieutenant Kershaw.
Police business, Mr. Turnbull.
Well, we're always happy
to cooperate with the authorities.
Thank you.
Uh, Mr. Turnbull, we haven't met.
Jessica Fletcher.
Jonathan's told me so much about you.
Yes, I'm glad to meet you.
You know, this places me in a very awkward position.
Well, how is that?
Well, you see, I have this theory
about Ben Coleman's death,
and I was hoping to make it public on Jonathan's show.
But of course, Jonathan doesn't have a show anymore.
So I suppose I shall have to contact your competitor.
Well, I hardly think that's necessary.
I'm sure that the New Orleans Today program
can be easily reinstated.
Good day, Mr. Turnbull.
You know, Jonathan, maybe some other show
would like to have us on together.
Well, I'm sure this can be straightened out.
Mrs. Fletcher, there's no reason to leave.
Please don't go! Please!
Okay, Mrs. Fletcher. What theory?
Well, I'm afraid I'm still working on it.
But I found that man so insufferable,
I just had to say something.
I wish I could see that.
New Orleans' finest, scraping chewing gum
from under every chair in the Bourbon Street Barn.
Kershaw wants every single wad analyzed.
He's convinced Callie poisoned the last stick she gave to Ben.
- And what was her motive? - He checked the airlines.
Ben bought three tickets to Las Vegas:
One for himself, one for Eddie,
and one for that obvious little number
he was with at Le Poulet Rouge.
Callie was gonna be dumped like the others.
I don't know, Jonathan.
Getting rid of a wife
who kept her husband from facing a murder charge
isn't quite the same as getting rid of a trumpet player.
It's Kershaw's theory, not mine.
How about I pick you up for lunch?
Celebrate my show being put back on the air.
Well, I was just on my way out.
And if your show is going to stay on the air,
I'm gonna have to make good my boast to that Mr. Turnbull.
I'll call you later.
Just the person I wanted to see.
Well, now, I am glad to see that you are ready
to do some sightseeing.
Lafayette, you told me that you know New Orleans
better than any person breathing.
Breathin' and not.
And you know the good music, as well as the good food?
Nothin' wrong with my stomach or my ears,
if you are talkin' Dixieland.
Well, I'm trying to find a man named Eubie Sherwin,
and two others...
Jimmy Firth and Hec Tattersal, Ben Coleman's sidemen.
Yeah. How come you know them?
I knew I wasn't wrong about you, Lafayette.
Do you know where I can locate them?
Mighty fine, boys. But things are slow.
Might be a few nights towards the end of the month.
We don't open till 5:00, lady.
Well, I thought you were just wonderful.
Well, thank you.
Thank you very much.
Too bad you don't own a club; We'd play for you cheap.
Why? What are you doing here?
Well, as a matter of fact...
What do you think she's doin' here?
She's got one of us killin' Ben and tryin' to figure out which.
No, that is police work.
But if any of you have any thoughts...
I'm the one that threatened him.
I didn't kill him, lady.
Wait a minute. Eubie. Wait a second.
Look, ma'am, face it-- We all wished bad for him.
I mean, we're here because he dumped us, okay?
Also, we're broke.
That's somethin' ain't likely gonna change real soon either.
I heard Aaron Kramer say that he was going to get you work.
Aaron Kramer? Lady, that man can't get you--
Aaron tries.
Just spread too thin to do us any good.
Yeah, plus, he's the world's worst businessman.
Now, that's the truth.
Yet, all this time, he keeps on going.
He must have something going for him, somewhere.
Oh, I wouldn't know.
If I were you, lady, I'd keep talk like that to myself.
You might get somebody in trouble.
Jessica!
I didn't expect to find you here.
Well, Ben's boys were auditioning,
and I came to watch.
Well, I set it up.
But how did you know they were here?
I had help.
I'm sorry to say, they didn't get much encouragement.
Oh, that's too bad.
I was hoping they'd be a shoo-in.
- Are they inside now? - Uh-huh.
I don't want to see them now. Come on. I'll give you a lift.
- Well, I have a taxi! - I want to talk to you...
Uh, ready to go, Miss Jessica?
Uh, this lady is my fare, Mr. Kramer.
And my friend.
She's also my friend.
Do I know you?
No reason you should. But I know all about you.
It's all right, Lafayette.
Uh, all things considered, Miss Jessica?
He just wants to talk.
Fine. Then I'll see to it.
How close are the police to finding Ben's killer?
Oh, I haven't talked to Lieutenant Kershaw today.
Kershaw. How close are you?
As close as I am to finding out about the smuggling.
I was afraid something would mess up what I had going,
but I never figured it'd be murder.
What you had going?
Jessica, I'm pretty much a bust as a manager.
Smuggling was a way to keep a lot of musicians fed
and put a few dollars in their pockets
when they weren't working.
Drugs? Oh, I'm sorry.
There's no justification for that.
No, not drugs, Jessica.
That's what customs always looked for.
And what about your fight with Ben Coleman?
Was that about drugs?
I found that he brought some stuff in almost every trip.
And if he had gotten caught,
it could have ruined everything for everybody.
Ben was bad, Jessica.
Long time bad and getting worse.
He used everybody, including me. He fired me, but so what?
I didn't kill him, Jessica.
He was wrecking himself.
The way he was going, he stuff he was into...
He was gonna burn out in less than a year.
And Callie? Could she have killed him?
- Good heavens, no. - Are you sure?
The way she loved him?
She'd have gone through hell for him.
Matter of fact...
That's what she's been doing for the past 16 years.
- Eddie. - Hello, Mr. Kramer.
Callie, you makin' out all right?
We're fine.
Tomorrow, I'll take you both to the cemetery.
Thank you, Aaron.
Everything's gonna work out okay, Callie.
Yeah.
Let's go, Eddie.
Time to go, now.
Much longer, won't nobody be here, Callie.
Yes.
I... I don't want to leave Ben all alone.
Aaron Kramer? These are federal officers.
You're under arrest for importation of contraband.
- What? - Smugglin'.
Take him.
Well, Mrs. Fletcher.
In at the beginnin'. In at the end, huh?
At the end, lieutenant?
I've also got Kramer down as Ben Coleman's killer.
With motive and opportunity.
You were runnin' a close second, Mrs. Coleman.
And just how did he do it?
With this.
You put that back. You leave that be!
Leave it be! Give it here! Put it back!
No, let me go! No!
Ben said, don't let nobody never touch that.
Never! Now, put it back! Ben?
Please, please. Don't hurt him.
Eddie? Eddie! Stop.
No. Oh, Ben told me.
Mr. "Sweetman" Buddy Brunson gave him that.
Put it back. Ben!
Ben!
Lieutenant, are you sure about Aaron Kramer?
We both saw it wasn't the coffee.
Tests on every speck of gum in this hall
turned out negative.
Now, fast-workin' as you say that poison is,
there's only one way left:
Miss Emma.
Kramer took the Coleman sextet out of the country
a half-dozen times.
His other groups too.
The customs people were sure they'd been smugglin'.
Lieutenant, I talked to Aaron--
He brought in all kinds of jewelry,
artwork, artifacts, you name it.
There's no tellin' how much.
A trumpet player with a group
that Kramer's got touring the orient
was busted by Japanese customs with a fortune in diamonds.
Last-minute body search turned up some marijuana.
They decided to take a second look at his luggage...
The guy laid everything on Kramer.
I don't understand how that makes him a murder suspect.
You're the one who takes the pieces
and makes them into a picture, Mrs. Fletcher.
It couldn't be plainer.
Look, Ben Coleman was on his way to Vegas, right?
Big time, big money, so he dumped everybody else.
But Kramer had a contract with him.
Ben threatened to tell the authorities
about the smugglin' if Kramer didn't let him out of it.
Wrong, lieutenant. Aaron was dumped.
Just like the rest of them.
He had a three-year, locked-down contract,
renewable for one more year at his option.
Yes, that may sound like a motive.
I'll give you opportunity.
The Buddy Brunson tribute. Whose idea was that, Hawley?
- Aaron. - Before he told anybody.
Before Eddie Walters got to Brunson's clarinet,
Kramer doctored the reed
with the poison he'd brought back
from his last trip to South America.
Oh, it was smuggled in, all right.
But not by Aaron Kramer.
Possibly by Ben Coleman.
What?
Aaron Kramer didn't know that he was going to be blackmailed.
That happened after they returned from South America.
Kershaw.
Are you certain?
That was the lab.
Bad news?
Bad enough.
There was no trace of poison on the reed.
There wasn't anything.
It was absolutely... Clean.
No, you just forget about it.
I'll get the new format sheets for myself.
Thank you.
As long as the show is being taped,
let's just try to ignore Coleman's murder.
If we get the chance.
I have been waiting for you.
We're taping in a few minutes, Turnbull.
- Later. - Later?
No, not later, Hawley. Now.
Here's the public service announcement
for the station break.
I've arranged to have your program aired live.
You what?
We'll take all the other programs,
put all the tape in the cans.
Push 'em back.
I hope you are prepared, Mrs. Fletcher,
to tell the world everything
you know about the Coleman murder.
You're prepared, Mrs. Fletcher?
Just who do you think you are?
I am the man that got you knocked off the air
in New Orleans.
And trust me, my friend, I can do it again.
Cut! There's no pause there!
And hold up the product, Harold.
Okay.
Don't eat blueberry pie
unless Dento-Gliss is on hand for glistening dentures.
Well, Mrs. Fletcher is not an employee.
And she's not gonna embarrass...
See how sparkling Dento-Gliss...
Removes this unsightly stain in seconds.
Furthering your flagging career, and neither am I!
Well, you'd better convince your friend to change her mind,
or you will find yourself on the street.
- Jessica? - Ms. Fletcher?
Removes this unsightly stain.
Taxi! Taxi!
So, we finally get our tour of the city.
- Lafayette! - Where to first?
The Saint Charles cemetery please.
Ma'am, with all of the beautiful places in New Orleans, that place is dead!
Oh, thank you for coming, Mrs. Fletcher.
Callie.
And I always thought Mr. Hawley was my friend.
He is your friend, Eddie. And so am I.
If he was my friend, why did he help the police
take Miss Emma from Ben?
Eddie.
Lieutenant Kershaw was only doing his job.
He thought that Aaron Kramer had killed Ben
by poisoning his clarinet reed.
But he couldn't.
Nobody was even allowed to touch Miss Emma, except Ben and me.
Yes, I know that.
Eddie...
Well, there couldn't have been no poison on that reed.
There wasn't.
Then the lieutenant was wrong.
Partly wrong, Callie.
He was wrong about Mr. Kramer being the killer.
You know how your husband was killed.
And you know who killed him.
I don't know anything of the kind.
You know, because I think it was you
who took the coffee cup off the piano.
No. That's not true.
You took it, not because the coffee was poisoned,
but because it wasn't.
And you knew that it wasn't.
But by it being missing, it looked as if it was.
The gum wasn't poisoned either. No.
When you heard me say "poison,"
you knew instantly...
Your husband could have only been killed one way.
And only by one person.
Yeah, but you just said there wasn't no poison on the reed.
That's right, Eddie.
The trouble is, there wasn't anything.
But there should have been.
Ben drank black coffee
just seconds before he started to play.
Black coffee.
Now, that would have stained the reed.
But there wasn't any stain.
There wasn't any sign of coffee.
Why?
Because after Ben died,
after you were alone, you changed the reed.
Now, if it was nothing to hide, why would you have done that?
'Cause I thought...
Ben might want to play it.
Up there.
That's why I cleaned it up for him.
And removed the poison.
Ben was the best friend I ever had.
He wasn't nice to a whole lot of people.
But he wasn't never not nice to me.
Not never.
He was my friend, and he took real good care of me.
Long time ago, Ben, Joey and me, we done somethin' bad.
Real bad.
Callie...
Callie told the police we were with her.
So they wouldn't arrest us.
Now, she did that...
'Cause she loved Ben...
And Ben and me, we love her right back.
Then... Ben didn't love her no more.
He said he wasn't gonna let her go to Las Vegas with us.
That if she found out, she'd tell the police she'd lied.
And we'd go to jail.
When... When we were in that place...
South America...
Ben told me he was gonna kill Callie.
He even went out and got the poison to do it.
Now, I couldn't...
I couldn't just let him do that.
I told him, I said, "Ben...
Callie would never do anything to hurt us."
But he wouldn't listen to me. He wouldn't believe me!
And when I tried to tell Callie, Callie didn't believe me either.
So I couldn't just let him kill her,
'cause he didn't love her no more.
But I did.
I did.
I did!
I did.