Frasier s02e13 Episode Script

Ah, yes, another beautiful Saturday night.
The moon is full.
The city lights are twinkling.
Lovers steal kisses in the park.
And here chez Crane my father and his assistant sit hunched over 20-year-old photographs of a murdered hooker.
Life is a banquet.
I enjoy looking at this old case.
Just because you have no plans, don't spoil our harmless fun.
We Brits do love a grisly murder and a nice hot cup of tea.
Daphne, I'm busy, so if you don't mind I didn't know I was bothering you.
Sorry.
It's this damn case.
The answer to who murdered Helen is right here.
I just can't see it.
You're obsessing.
You stare at these grisly pictures endlessly.
Let's go and see a movie.
- No.
- Pizza? - Nah.
- Let's get tattooed.
Oh! This is ridiculous! It's a beautiful night.
I'm going to take a nice long walk.
And I'm not going by myself.
He likes the rhododendrons on the north side of the park.
'Dr Crane, thanks to your advice, 'I've conquered my fear of heights.
'I took it slowly, gradually going higher and higher 'until here I am, having lunch at the top of the Space Needle.
' - Marjorie, I'm so proud of you.
- 'When I think of how I ' - What happened? - 'I looked down.
' Look at your luncheon companions or your menu, but don't look down.
You're only feeding your fears.
'Maybe I'm not ready for a window table.
' No, no, of course you are.
You can beat this thing.
'You're right.
I can, Dr Crane, if I just ' - Do not look down! - 'No, I didn't.
'My cheque just came.
' Well, Marjorie, we're out of time now.
Call me tomorrow, will you? That's it for today.
Stay tuned for Bulldog Briscoe.
This is Dr Frasier Crane, KACL 780 Talk Radio.
- Hey, Doc.
- Bulldog.
I caught some of your show today.
If that whining chick called me, I'd say, "If you don't want people snapping your bra, don't wear one.
" Brilliant in its simplicity.
How does this sound, hard body? You, me, Sonics, Knicks, tonight? I'm already going.
I have season tickets.
- We could get together afterwards.
- Only if I smash into your car.
Why do the ones that want it the most put up the biggest struggle? Because, when I do finally give in, I want us to enjoy it all the more.
If I'm not distracted by the fact that every man on earth has died.
Almost had her there.
Yes, it could have gone either way.
Well, I can get those any time I want.
- Hello, Frasier.
- Bulldog, my brother, Niles.
- Niles, this is Bulldog Briscoe.
- Just the man.
You can tell me why none of the local media carry the Ivy League squash standings.
Whoa! Another one just like you! Some gypsy put a curse on your family? - See you later, Miles.
- It's Niles.
Like it matters.
Are you ready for our boys' night out at Le Cochon Noir? Yes.
But, Niles, I've been wondering.
Would you mind if Dad joined us? Last time we took Dad to a four-star restaurant, he had a miserable time and the restaurant lost a star.
I want to get him out.
He's on one of his weeping lotus binges again.
We've taken him everywhere from the Arboretum to the Zen Garden.
Wait! The Zen Garden is at the Arboretum.
Have we only taken him one place? - Oh, Niles, the basketball game! - Basketball? Yes.
I can get another ticket.
Imagine how excited Dad will be to go to a game with his two sons.
It's the archetypal male bonding ritual.
Couldn't we just go into the woods and kill something? - All right.
- You can see the Tacoma Dome.
I've seen it.
They had a home show there once.
That's where I got the idea to stencil the Welsh dresser.
I'm a teamster compared to you.
Peanuts! Peanuts! Niles, the game's that way! I'm calculating our escape route in case of fire or unrest.
- Maris taught me.
- You love her, don't you? - Yes, I do.
Why? - It helps to know that.
Here we are.
One beer and two glasses of wine.
I'm sure it's good.
They opened a fresh box when they poured it.
You ought to be drinking beer.
Dad, I only drink beer when I eat German food, which is to say never! - Did you notice the facilities? - As you feared: communal urinals.
What do I do about my shy kidneys? - Aren't these great seats? - Yeah.
- What's the matter? - Nothing.
Lend me your pen.
- What for? - A note about that ballistics report.
We came here to get your mind off the case.
I've done some reading.
It seems the key for the Sonics is to stop Starks from penetrating and dumping the ball off.
"Stop Starks"? That sounds funny: stop Starks, stop Starks Shut up! - It makes no sense! - I'm just quoting some sports writer.
No, Helen was tall, yet the bullet entered on a downward trajectory.
Dad, please try to participate.
Look, they're starting a wave! That was fun, wasn't it? There's a peanut guy.
Peanut! How dare you? Niles Stop it! He's pelting me with peanuts See that tray! He's come prepared! Stop it! That is for me! - I got to make a call.
- Not about the case? - Yes.
- You've been working on it for years.
Why are you so obsessed now? I promised her mother that, however long it took, I'd find the killer.
She called me last week.
She's an old lady living in a home somewhere.
She doesn't have a lot longer to go.
It spurred me on to get it solved.
So I appreciate your bringing me here but I've got to make this call.
OK, Dad.
I understand.
Boy, the traffic tonight is murder.
Hey, pal, what's the score? "West Side Story".
This picture of the crime scene has always bugged me.
The way Helen's written "help".
Why? Well, I suppose the word "howdy" would have been a bit too cheery.
It makes no sense.
Anybody who could read it could see her lying there.
- Evening, Dad.
- Thanks again for the ball game.
It was a pleasure.
I'm sorry you couldn't join us for dinner.
Le Cochon Noir gave us a fabulous dinner.
It was marred only by the lack of even one outstanding cognac on their carte des digestifs.
But think of it this way.
What's the one thing better than an exquisite meal? An exquisite meal with one tiny flaw we can pick at all night.
Quite right.
To impossible standards! - So, Dad, any progress on the case? - Nah, I'm beat.
Sometimes it's better to start fresh in the morning.
Good night.
Brush your teeth, say your prayers.
I used to say that when you were kids, didn't I? - No, you didn't.
- Oh.
- I meant to.
- We knew that.
- Hello.
- Hello, Daphne! - How was dinner? - Fine except for one tiny flaw.
Oh, just the way you like it.
I see you're intrigued.
It's a while since I've gone over it.
- Who are these guys? - The principal players in the drama.
That's Detective Shelby, the cop who found the body.
Who is this menacing monobrow? Robitaille, the logger, an ex-boyfriend of Helen's.
Every few months, they'd disappear together.
He's the murderer.
- He's got an airtight alibi.
- What? He was killing somebody else at the time.
But you have to admit this case has it all: sex, greed, jealousy, revenge, a monkey, hatred, deception Wait, wait, wait! A monkey? This is a snapshot of the murder victim with her pet monkey, Coco.
He was given to her by another boyfriend, Clive Brisbane.
- Why wasn't Brisbane a suspect? - He was.
Witnesses saw him at the racetrack at the time of the murder.
- Brisbane the animal trainer? - Yes.
Brisbane's Amazing Apes.
They opened in Las Vegas for Engelbert Humperdinck.
You forget there was a time when Las Vegas wasn't tacky like now.
I once caught his act on a trip to Vegas during college.
Those apes were amazing! They staged a tableau of Washington crossing the Delaware and then shot suction-cup arrows at Brisbane's assistant's derrière.
You know there is a way that Brisbane could be the killer and still have his horse track alibi hold up.
Daphne, Niles I present you with the killer! - A monkey was the trigger man? - Play along with me.
They can shoot arrows.
Why not a gun? - Why would Brisbane have her killed? - Because, because - She jilted him for someone else! - Robitaille! - Exactly! We've done it! - You've done it! Yes, but you were standing very close by.
Wait a minute.
Are we saying here that a murder was committed by a monkey? It's not so very far fetched! It could be Brisbane's homage to Poe's "Murders in the Rue Morgue".
It's about a murderous orang-utan in Paris.
Wait till we tell Dad.
Dad! No, Niles, wait! It's still just a theory.
And how will Dad feel, knowing we've cracked a case he couldn't solve in twenty years? Oh, dear.
You're right.
Wait! It's serendipity that I stumbled into this.
It can happen again.
I'll rearrange the photos so that Dad will see the connection.
All right, we've got Coco, the gun and Helen.
What is it? Oh, no, Frasier! What are you doing? No, no.
I've got these all set out the way I want them.
This one goes up I'll be damned! Something wrong? - Look at that! - What? I never thought it would leap out and bite me like this.
I may have solved this case.
- You have? - Wonderful! No.
Don't get too excited.
This is kind of far fetched.
It's a long shot, but it's beginning to make sense.
- Lay it out.
- Guys, please.
Give me a little privacy.
I've got to think.
- No problem.
- I was just going to bed.
Night, all.
Good night, Daphne.
Do you see the sparkle in his eye? He's like a little kid at Christmas.
What happened to my entry-wound close-ups? # Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la # - Hello.
Is Dad home? - Nope.
I haven't seen him since he knocked me up.
- What? - Knocked me up.
Woke me up.
It's an English expression.
What does it mean here? Oh, something else.
You'd definitely be awake for it, though.
He went to the station to present his theory.
I wish he hadn't.
I've been turning it over in my mind all day.
The more I think about it, the goofier it sounds.
I mean, a monkey! I hope they didn't laugh him out of the station.
It'd be one hell of an end to a 30-year career.
Now, now, Dr Crane.
It's not the most outlandish theory in the world.
You're right.
Could have said it was a trained giraffe.
I suppose he killed her by spitting the bullet at her, thus explaining the downward trajectory.
- Hey, guys.
- Hi.
- Heard anything from the station? - Not yet.
I was afraid of that.
I knew my theory was iffy, but when I told the guys, they looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
- They didn't ridicule you? - No.
They treat old-timers with respect.
They said, "I'll check it out", like I used to when some nut came in with aluminium foil in his hat, claiming the Martians were stealing his brainwaves.
- I'm sorry.
- I don't know what I was thinking of.
I've been trying to figure out how I came up with such a half-assed theory.
Dad It wasn't your fault.
I did it.
You killed her? No, but I planted that ridiculous idea in your head.
Remember when you were upset I was rearranging your pictures? I rearranged them so that you would come to the same conclusion I did.
- So you had the idea first? - I feel terrible.
Don't blame yourself.
You put the foil on my hat, but I walked into the station wearing it.
I'll get it.
- Oh.
- Hiya, Marty.
Hey, Frank! Frasier, Daphne, you remember Frank from the precinct.
- Marty, we've got to talk.
- About that theory of mine - What were you thinking? - I know.
I feel so stupid wasting your time.
It cost us a whole afternoon and five detectives' time.
All we've got to show for it is - We got the bastard! - I was right? You don't believe me, ask these derelicts.
- Way to go, Marty! - Good to see you.
Marty, you've still got it.
And it only took you 20 years.
- Mr Crane, I'm so proud of you! - That's wonderful! Oh, that's suede! - So Marty, how did you do it? - I thought it was Robitaille, and then I thought maybe it was Brisbane, but I was wrong.
How did you finally decide it was Detective Shelby? That picture kept bugging me.
Why was she trying to write "help"? Then it came to me: she wanted to write the killer's name, Shelby.
She died before she'd done the "b", someone kicked dirt over the "s".
You nailed him.
We interrogated him.
He cracked.
Sorry I doubted you, but you also wondered if a monkey could murder.
I may have momentarily doubted it, but I have to learn to trust my gift.
- Did you call the girl's mother? - No, you do it.
You solved this.
I can't take all the credit for it, right, Frasier? Get over here.
- Oh, now, Dad - Don't be shy.
I'm proud of you! I was a cop for 30 years and it took my son with his PhD mind to crack it.
Plus I was standing next to him at the time.
- So, tell us about it, Frasier.
- Oh, no! - Come on! - Well, all right, then.
I hate to toot my own horn, but if it'll make Dad happy It was my expertise in human behaviour combined with enthusiasm for the Rwandan gorilla, that set me thinking about the monkey.
- I'm not sure I'm following you.
- I'm going too fast.
I'll go slower.
I figured out that, if Brisbane could teach a monkey to impersonate Washington, then he could teach a monkey to cock a revolver, sneak up a fire escape, pump Helen full of lead, then get away, perhaps wearing revolutionary war regalia to confuse witnesses.
In fact - and this is way out there - but check if there were any local bank robberies at the time, committed by a short, hairy man wearing a powdered wig.
You think the monkey was the killer? When I said I was next to him, I was really most of the way across the room.
- Well, wasn't he? - No, it was Shelby.
- Who's Shelby? - A cop.
He was in love with Helen.
Oh.
Well, that was my second choice.
- Can I freshen anyone's drink? - Help me out, Frasier.
What was the monkey's motive? Jealousy? Or maybe he just did it for the insurance money? Hey! Do you think we should put a tail on that monkey? Listen, if that monkey did it, he'll swing for this.
- Yes, that's all very funny.
- You can take a joke, can't you? I suppose I can, yes.
Wait! I've got one! Who will the monkey get to defend him? Clarence Darrow! The Scopes monkey trial.
You know, Darwin's theory of evolution.
It was turned into a Pulitzer prize winning novel "Inherit the Wind".
Is that gun loaded?