Murder, She Wrote s07e07 Episode Script

I'm bringing back the man who started the company.
Preston Giles? He's in jail for murder.
Tonight on "Murder She Wrote" We start with J.
B.
Fletcher.
She's the one who put me behind bars.
- Preston? - Forgive me for surprising you.
No! Get away from me! - You have an allergy? - I'm allergic to you.
Breakfast tomorrow? I think it's best if we didn't.
Apparently, crime does pay.
Get out of my sight! Al, you're killing me.
All we're talking is another 5000 copies.
End of the month! You have my word.
Al, let me worry about the paper suppliers.
You stick to the printing and the binding.
Okay? Thanks, buddy.
You're a prince.
Bastard.
You were suppose to come home two days ago.
If you returned my calls, you'd know why I didn't.
I had my hands full.
And? Kendall's nervous.
I don't blame him.
If I were refinancing you and that broken down operation, to the tune of 20 million dollars, I'd want some assurance it wasn't going into Chapter 11 before the ink dried.
- I told you.
- Spare me, Ross, it's all smoke.
The blockbuster titles, the name writers coming back - Linnette, - Please, I should have gone with my instincts and not mixed business with family.
But no.
Instead, I had to put my job on the line.
Linnette To keep you from sinking into the East River.
Dammit, Ross.
There's more to taking over a company than Save the sermon! Your boss and I go back a few semesters.
He wouldn't have touched this deal if he thought it'd embarrass him, or the bank, or his neurotic little wife.
as the A1, class act, in the best-seller business.
How? With mirrors? You might say that.
A mirror to the past.
I'm bringing back the man who started the company.
Preston Giles? - He's in jail, for murder.
- Not for long.
I've spent a month pulling strings and making calls.
He gets out on parole on Tuesday.
I understand.
Believe me, I understand.
He's coming out, I have to go.
Trust me, this is going to work.
A couple weeks from now we’ll have a big monkey off our backs thanks to Mr.
Preston Giles.
Yeah, call you later.
Mr.
Giles.
Ross McKay.
- I've been looking forward to this.
- Mr.
McKay.
How about we begin by dropping the "misters"? - Welcome aboard, Preston.
- Thank you, Ross.
I understand.
You were totally upfront with me in your letters.
All I ask is that you keep an open mind.
Because I'll prove that you're wrong about me.
What the hell? Worst case scenario it has to be better than Right? Forgive me.
I guess this'll take some getting used to.
Okay.
You don't like my style.
Maybe publishing isn't what it used to be.
Nobody's perfect.
On the other hand, I wasn't jailed for murder.
I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.
If I hadn't pulled off my takeover then some fifth-rate greenmail operator who never read a book in his life would have.
Sutton Place Publishing would be history and you'd still be inside.
So, are we still on? Yes, we're on.
End of discussion.
You know, Preston whether you believe me or not, I am deadly serious about this.
Returning Sutton Publishing to the class act you ran.
Something you can be proud of.
I'm convinced that together, we can pull it off.
Okay, as we discussed we need to get some quality product in the pipeline.
Which means we have to restore our list of first class writers.
We start with J.
B.
Fletcher.
Jessica? She's the lynchpin.
Look, during our watch, Sutton Place Publishing was known for its quality mysteries.
If you nail her, I know a dozen top writers who'll come flocking back.
- I don't know, Ross.
- What's to know? She's the one who put me behind bars.
So what? You launched the woman's career she's your discovery, she owes you and she knows it.
About this weekend, I'll have to go out to Long Island.
I've got to meet with some investors from California.
Wonderful.
Be sure and give Kendall my regards.
Mr.
McKay, I'm sorry.
One of our paper suppliers is on line four.
They're refusing delivery unless they get a check.
Tell them to hold.
Linnette, I'm getting tired of your excuses.
Ross, it's business.
Stop behaving like a jealous school-boy.
Linnette, I need to talk to you about the Felson merger.
Of course, Mr.
Stafford.
Darling, I've got a meeting in five minutes.
Besides, we've got the whole weekend to look forward to.
That's off, I'm afraid.
Millie offered my services as toast-master for the hunt-club ball, forgot to tell me about it until this morning.
My husband needs my help preparing for next week's audit.
I hope that all the help you're giving him.
No more than you're giving your wife.
Mr.
Giles.
Mr.
Whitcomb just called.
He said he's running late.
I thought I asked that meeting to be moved back to 4 o'clock.
And shift Caruthers to Monday.
Yes, you did.
And I did write it down somewhere.
Gloria.
You're having a problem, aren't you? - Working with me? - Problem? No, no, Mr.
Giles.
- I know it's silly of me.
- Forgive me I should have been more sensitive to the situation.
If you prefer to leave, I'd certainly understand.
No, I'd much rather stay.
But you have to understand, Mr.
Giles I know it's irrational, but everything frightens me.
- Crossing the street, the subway - Doesn't sound irrational to me.
I'm your basic frightened person.
But I'm working on it.
I read books and take class on the subject.
I try and psyche myself.
So, if you'll just be patient with me.
I see that Ross has chosen to ignore my advice.
Apparently, crime does pay.
It seems to have paid for you, Martin.
As predictable as ever, Preston.
May I remind you your accusation against me were never proven.
Because they were totally without merit.
Believe me, if I hadn't gotten myself in trouble, I not only would have proven, I'd have seen to it that you are as locked up as you deserved.
What did you want to see me about? I supposed it's to be expected that your years of incarceration would have nurtured your paranoia.
Believe it or not, I am not the cause of all your problems.
I know that.
I had no one but myself to blame for the mess I made of my life and this company.
- You got that right.
- But its state of its finances when I went to prison, can only be laid at your feet, Martin.
You made it vulnerable to a predator like Ross McKay in the first place.
Now get out of my sight before I say or do something I'll be sorry for.
I said get out! Now! A piece of advice, Preston.
Don't be misled by your title.
I'm senior VP in control now.
And a member of the board of directors.
Keep a lid on your opinions and on your temper as well.
Martin, we need to talk.
Ross, there you are.
I've been trying to touch base with you since Monday morning.
The advertising copy for drums in the Amazon, is tacky and exploitive.
Totally counter to the image we should be projecting.
I called you, sent memos.
I'm sorry.
Your messages must have fallen between the cracks.
I promise we'll spend a lot of time together before the weekend.
Almost forgot.
The royalty check for J.
B.
Fletcher.
"The corpse danced at midnight.
" I understand you'll be contacting her.
I'll try, but I'm not at all certain she'll see me.
Nonsense, Preston.
I'm sure you years in prison did nothing to lesson your charm.
You know, you could be a very disruptive influence in my life.
Only my students call me Mrs.
Fletcher, Mr.
Giles.
And Mr.
Giles is that stuffed shirt and three-piece suit I left in New York.
- Good afternoon, Mrs.
Fletcher.
- Good afternoon.
Caught your interview on the morning show - your book sounds terrific.
- Well thank you.
It's a lot easier to write it than to promote it.
Jessica.
Preston? Hello, Jessica.
Forgive me for surprising you like this.
Surprising me? I'm in shock! - I thought you were - Still in prison? I'm terribly sorry, I should have called you.
- Here.
Perhaps if we sat down? - No, I'll be all right.
I just need a moment.
Of course.
The truth is, I was afraid if I just called you, you'd refuse to see me.
I wanted very much to see you again, face to face.
Well, I'm not so sure that's a good idea.
That seems quite apparent.
Forgive me for intruding.
Preston.
Maybe it would be best if we talked.
One of my regrets, Jess, one of my many is that you didn't come into my life sooner.
I was so full of anger.
- Much directed towards me, I'm sure.
- For uncovering my guilt.
I suppose so, at first.
Could I have escaped punishment if you hadn't been there? Perhaps from the law, but not from here.
The monstrousness of what I did.
The awful knowledge that within my anger and then fear, I took the lives of two people it hasn't left my thoughts for a moment.
It never will.
Preston, why did you come looking for me? What is it you want? I almost forgot that refreshing directness of your.
I was going to ask you to leave your current publisher - and come back to Sutton Place.
- I see.
I'm on parole thanks to a man named Ross McKay.
I know who he is.
He's not one of my favorite people either.
But he was my ticket out of prison.
I'd have dealt with the devil to get out of that place.
Come to think of it, maybe I did.
Preston, earlier you said you were going to ask me to leave my current publisher.
I was.
And on the way here, I changed my mind.
Ross and his wife Linnette, are having a small dinner party at his town-house tomorrow evening.
I was supposed to lure you there.
Ply you with flattery and promises, just when he would produce a check.
Sounds very cold blooded, doesn't it? Very.
Funny.
I tried to convince myself I could make a difference.
That I could revive the publishing company's reputation.
It's become clear that I was deluding myself.
What characterizes Ross, is his choice of VP/Controller.
The same man I caught embezzling six and a half years ago.
Which reminds me.
Here's a royalty check.
"The Corpse Dances at Midnight.
" Thank you.
Anyway, I've decided to bid the job and Ross goodbye.
What can I say except thank you? Will you be all-right? I'll either find a job with someone else, or there are a lot of books I didn't read in the prison library.
I wish you the best.
If there is something that I can do.
No, please.
Thanks anyway.
This is all moving too fast for a widow from Maine.
Okay, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed.
- But I've been there before, - Ross, you don't Believe me, with the deals we're offering, they'll all come around.
- Including J.
B.
Fletcher.
- No, she won't.
Anyway, that's not why I'm here.
I'm quitting, Ross.
Effective immediately.
Don't be a fool.
I appreciate the opportunity, I really do.
But it's clear I don't belong here.
You figured that our in, what? You're crazy, pal.
You know that? Or have you forgotten your parole is conditional on continued employment.
I'll take my chances.
You don't think I meant what I said about turning this place around? I'm sure you believe it, Ross.
I must be losing my touch.
Look, Preston.
Maybe you're right.
Maybe I was the fool for thinking I could ever match the standards you left for this company.
I was hoping having you around, your style would rub off on me.
All right.
Do me a favor, will you? Give it a month.
- Ross, I don't think - Excuse me.
Mr.
McKay's meeting - Tell them to wait.
- Yes sir.
One month.
Dorothy, better make that two hours for Mr.
Giles and me on Friday.
By then we'll have it all aired out, and if you still want, you'll leave.
- Deal? - Deal.
Wonderful.
By the way, how's that presentation coming? For the new investors? It still need five or six hours work.
I'll have it ready for you tomorrow afternoon.
No good.
The meeting's been moved up.
I need it first thing in the morning.
I hate to ask.
Not much on my social calendar.
I'll work on it tonight.
Preston, you're a prince.
I'll make it up to you, promise.
Mr.
Giles, Mrs.
Fletcher just called she'd like to speak to you as soon as possible.
- Jess? - Preston.
You didn't have to come over.
I only called you to have you stop payment on that royalty check.
Are you sure you're all right? Yes, except for a few minor bruises, I'm fine.
I feel responsible for this.
I should have seen you to your door.
I doubt that would have made much difference.
- Have you notified the police? - Yes, they just left.
I couldn't help them much.
I didn't see his face.
All he took was your handbag? Yes, it had some cash, credit cards, the check you gave me.
He'd opened the drawer where I keep my jewelry.
I must have interrupted him because he never took it.
I'll tell accounting to issue you a fresh check.
Thanks.
They can send it on to me in Cabot Cove.
Or I could deliver it at breakfast tomorrow if you wish? Preston, I think it's best if we didn't do that.
As you wish.
Look, I told you about it this morning, Millie.
I know that.
But I was hoping that maybe you had changed your mind.
It's been such a long time since we've been to the opera together.
I made dinner reservations at Gispari's.
Don't you understand? I'm up to my eyeballs.
I've been so for weeks! - I just thought - That's your problem, you don't think.
Well, Kendall, I'm getting tired of being nothing more than your personal piggy bank.
We have a marriage.
I won't let that be destroyed by anything or anyone.
Don't push me.
Sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired.
Of course you are.
Don't work too late.
Kendall, what the hell is this all about? Hello, Linnette.
Millie.
I suppose that you'll be working late too.
- What did she want? - My body.
She was plying me with opera tickets and my favorite pasta.
I told her she had to wait in line.
Well, she's welcome to it right now.
For god sake, I'm only kidding.
What's the problem? This! What do you mean you can't hold the Denver group any longer? You know very well how much time Ross was going to need and besides, who's deal is it anyway? Who do you think has been holding this together? God, you're sexy when you're angry.
I heard about Mrs.
Fletcher's brush with that mugger.
- Lucky she wasn't seriously hurt.
- Yes, she was.
These people seem to have less and less regard for their victims.
But then, we're living in such violent times.
I'm rather busy just now, Martin.
No problem.
I was about to call it a night myself.
I wanted you to know we’d be cutting a fresh check for Mrs.
Fletcher in the morning.
It'll be mailed to Cabot Cover per your instructions.
- Good night, Mr.
Bergman.
- Good night, Miss Winslow.
Here are those letters, Mr.
Giles.
- Will you be needing anything else? - Only this presentation - Could you run off 15 copies? - Of course.
Gloria? No, no! Get away from me! I swear I didn't kill Martin Bergman.
I want to believe you, Preston.
I know you’d be a fool to simply take my word.
Can you give me any reason why I should? Anything? A detail that you might have overlooked? Something you might've been doing, someone you might have seen? Anything to put you in you office when he was stabbed? No, I've gone over it 100 times.
Preston, you told me something that doesn't make sense.
You said that Martin Bergman embezzled funds in your company yet you never pressed charges.
My lawyers and accountants told me I'd never make it stick.
His swindle was so Byzantine it'd have taken a team of auditors years to unravel.
Besides, he threatened me with blackmail.
He didn't have anything concrete, but said he'd checked up on my past found a lot of unanswered questions.
Well, you know all about that.
Anyway, it was a Mexican standoff.
I had him, all right, but I didn't want him digging into my past.
So I simply fired him and got on with business.
According to newspapers, you threatened to kill him at a party in front of witnesses.
In a fit of temper, yes! The man stole nearly three million dollars! I'd built the company from scratch.
We were profitable and respected.
And then suddenly we found ourselves in deep financial trouble.
And a short time later, two men were dead.
Including a blackmailing private detective.
Finish the thought, if I could kill two men for interfering with my live why not a third? Please, don't try to read my mind.
At this point, it just isn't possible.
Look, it was good of you to come down here, but but even if you believed me, I realize this is not your problem.
What do you mean "how's it going?" It's going lousy, that's how it's going.
I got this lady writer running around making a pain out of herself.
Later.
Excuse me, Sergeant.
I just wanted to thank you for arrange for me to see Mr.
Giles.
It was very kind of you.
Come here.
Close the door.
Sit down.
- Bless you.
- Thanks.
So, what did he tell you? Actually, it was a private conversation.
What are you, a priest? His lawyer? You've got no confidential privilege here, lady.
Very well, as soon as you serve me with a subpoena, I'll be happy to answer any questions I can, but for the meantime According to your statement, you had lunch with Giles yesterday from 12:45 to 2:15.
- You don't want to tell me about that? - No I don't.
Well, if there's nothing else I'll let you know when I get that subpoena.
Excuse me, Sergeant, is this a picture of a murder victim? Yeah, that's him.
What is it? Well, that bandage on his right hand, I guess he cut himself, why? This may be coincidental, but I was mugged yesterday afternoon in my hotel room, I didn't see the man's face, but I scratched his right hand in the struggle.
you scratched, right? Mrs.
Fletcher, are you, by chance having to deal with 62 unsolved homicides since January 1? - Well, of course not.
- I am.
And I am not about to welcome any of your amateurish interference for which, if I may say, you already are legendary around this department.
I had not intention of interfering, Sergeant, it's simply Okay.
Why would a 52-year-old controller for a major publishing company moonlight as a mugger? I haven't got the faintest idea, except that Mr.
Bergman supposedly issued a royalty check to me that was in my handbag, incidentally, that was the only item stolen.
Supposedly? What, you don't know if it was in your bag? I mean I don't know that it was a check.
I never looked in the envelope.
You say you think Bergman gave Giles the wrong envelope and he wants it back for some reason so he mugs you for it.
- I really don't know what I think.
- You're talking major understatement! Besides, why wouldn't he just ask you for it? Perhaps he didn't want me to see the contents.
Man! You know what I think? I think you've been in front of your typewriter too long writing books.
None of this has any connection, whatsoever, to the murder.
But you pal Giles had both opportunity and motive.
And we have witnesses who'll testify he threatened to kill Bergman.
Sergeant, that was seven years ago.
Wrong, Mrs.
Fletcher, that was yesterday afternoon.
His secretary says saw him come close to assaulting the victim.
He didn't tell you that, huh? But hey, what can you expect? The guy should've never been let out on the street again.
He wouldn't have if it weren't for a lot of big bucks and political clout.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I've got 62 other cases to solve.
Call me Ross, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I can't tell you how delighted I am that you were able to come.
I hope this means you've changed your mind about returning to Sutton Place Publishing.
I'm giving it some thought, Ross.
Jessica Fletcher, I'm Millie Bingham Stafford.
I was thrilled when Ross told me you'd be here.
- Your books are delicious.
- What a lovely thing to say.
Millie's husband is my wife's slave-driving boss.
A dyed in the wool work-a-holic.
Last night I went to dinner alone in some chicken emporium and then to the opera alone while my husband played monopoly on the Hong Kong stock market.
Or so he claims.
When he and Linnette get together it's hard to tell what they're up to.
Isn't that right, Ross? No, we're both too attractive to worry about something like that.
Besides, Kendall would rather make a buck than a pass any day.
Speaking of our missing spouses Jessica, this is Linnette, my wife and favorite investment banker.
Not necessarily in that order.
- Nice to meet you, Mrs.
McKay.
- Thank you.
Excuse me, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Jessica, there you are.
I'm just taking in this view.
That's how Manhattan should be seen.
May I assume you've decided to accept our offer? Well, your terms are certainly very generous.
But my attorneys would've forgive me if I didn't discuss it with them.
Of course! I hope you understand if I ask you not to talk about any of this for the next day or two.
A very difficult assignment, Jessica.
Of course, you have my word.
I feel almost responsible for this sorry business at the office.
If I hadn't worked so hard to get Preston paroled, poor Martin would still be alive.
Tell me, Ross.
When you hired Mr.
Bergman to come into your company, were you aware of the problems that he and Preston had had in the past? Certainly.
But Martin Bergman was a superb administrator.
He was the right man for the job, as Preston was for his.
Come on.
Isn't conflict what motivates your stories? The engine that drives your characters? Yes, it is.
It's no different in business.
Only we call it competition.
Keeping the energy high and the creative juices bubbling.
Unfortunately in this case, the pot seems to have boiled over.
Yes, perhaps.
Are you saying Giles didn't do it? I'm not sure.
I have a feeling, an instinct.
Maybe there's more to it.
Jessica, if you'll permit me.
Given his present situation, Preston is apt to say anything to get himself off the hook.
Yes, maybe you're right.
The man's already been convicted of two murders.
I know how painful this must be for you.
And how badly you'd like it to have a happy ending, I hope for your sake you're not deluding yourself.
The man has already been convicted of two murders.
But then, hey? What can you expect? She guy should've never been let out on the street in the first place.
I know how painful this must be for you.
I hope for your sake you're not deluding yourself.
I hoped I was wrong.
I'm sorry, Jess.
I truly am.
Another time and place, we might have had something.
The subject was blackmail.
Driver.
Take me to police head- quarters, Manhattan South, hurry.
Bless you.
I guess you got my message.
No, I didn't.
Strike that, I don't want to know.
Here you go, your purse.
Turned up in a trash can a couple blocks from your hotel.
Really? Now, if you'll just sign this, I can get home to a warm beer and cold pizza.
Everything's still there except for your check the cash and credit cards.
- Proves the perp was after money.
- No, I'm not sure of that.
Slocum.
Yeah.
Yeah.
I hate that.
- What is it, Sergeant? - Coincidence.
Coroner says there were scratches on Bergman's hand.
From human fingernails.
Which doesn't mean he was your mugger.
And it doesn't matter anyway, since I got my killer.
But damn it, I'm a Virgo.
I hate loose ends.
Especially ones that just complicate your life without having anything to do with anything.
I'm sorry, I'm not following you.
A burglary at the murder victim's apartment.
Duty cop takes a break, some junky busts in and trashes the place.
- I mean, go figure.
- That is curious.
Anyway, the reason I'm here is because of that envelope.
Mrs.
Fletcher, don't start.
Suppose Mr.
Bergman inadvertently gave me - the wrong envelope.
- We've been over this.
Which contained valuable material that he had to retrieve anonymously and surreptitiously.
Yeah? Like what? Something that he was using to blackmail someone.
Blackmail, give me a break.
But that would explain why Mr.
Bergman was desperate enough to come to my hotel.
Just sign it so we can get out of here.
You must admit, it seems awfully tidy that Ross McKay would happen to arrange a parole for Preston Giles - so Preston could work for him.
- Mrs.
Fletcher and Mr.
McKay also happens to employ Martin Bergman who he knows Preston had to have fired for embezzlement and threatened six and a half years ago.
And in less than a week, when Preston, Martin and the secretary happened to be alone in the office, someone murdered Mr.
Bergman? Not someone, Preston Giles.
Or someone who wanted to kill Bergman and make it look like Preston did it.
That someone who was being blackmailed by Mr.
Bergman.
- You're telling me it was all a - You should really see a doctor.
You seem to have some sort of allergy.
And I just figured out what it is.
I'm allergic to you.
Tell me, Sergeant.
Do you think it would be possible for us to obtain a search warrant at this time of night? A search warrant? What are you thinking about now? Evidence of blackmail.
That's it.
Good night.
But I haven't finished yet.
Have a nice trip back to Maine, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Not until you consider one more possibility.
Okay.
One.
Suppose that when our blackmailed victim murdered Mr.
Bergman, he was unable to find whatever Bergman was blackmailing him with.
So later, he burglarized Bergman's apartment hoping to find it there.
I can't believe I let you talk me into this.
We don't even know what we're looking for.
Jess, I can't tell you how wonderful this feels.
Thanks for believing me when no one else would.
You may not be in the clear just yet.
There's something that doesn't feel right about Ross's story.
He denies killing Bergman, of course, but he also denies being blackmailed.
He claims that he discovered that Mr.
Bergman was embezzling.
I can't say that surprises me.
- May I drop you at your hotel? - Thank you, yes.
East 49th Street, driver.
So, why the skepticism, Jess? Embezzlement would certainly give Ross a believable motive.
I know.
And the police seem to agree.
Ross insists that he was simply searching the office for a clue to where Bergman had hidden the money.
But I can't shake off the feeling that something is missing.
Driver, please take me to Wall Street.
Lady, make up your mind, will you? That's clear back the other way.
Driver, the lady said Wall Street, she means Wall Street.
And I want him out on bail by 4 o'clock, you understand? No, you listen to me.
Every minute that Ross remains under this cloud threatens the survival of Sutton Place Publishing not to mention the deal I'm putting together.
Excuse me.
There's a Mrs.
Fletcher here to see you.
- I told her you were busy but - Tell her again.
Hello Mrs.
McKay, thanks for seeing me.
I hate to barge in like this, but it's terribly important.
Just do it, Arthur.
Call me back.
You have exactly one minute, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I hope this isn't about getting your jailbird friend Preston Giles exonerated at my husband's expense.
It's about getting them both exonerated, Mrs.
McKay.
At the expense of the real murderer.
I'm curious about your husband's relationship with your employer Kendall Stafford.
And also with the late Martin Bergman.
- I don't know what you're - Talking about? Blackmail.
What exactly did Mr.
Bergman have on your husband? Goodbye, Mrs.
Fletcher.
You husband could go to prison for many years for a murder he may not have committed.
Maybe you don't care about that but I do know that you'd be unhappy about the financial repercussions.
So it was blackmail.
A couple of years ago, Linnette's husband, Ross and Kendall Stafford were involved in some sort of a bond fraud.
Now, Martin Bergman found out about it.
He made Photostats of documents that could have put them both behind bars for years.
Then that's it.
Ross killed Martin to silence him, and arranged it so I'd take the blame.
That's why he got me out of prison, to be the scape goat.
That makes sense, except for one thing.
Linnette swore to me that Ross was at home with her when Mr.
Bergman was killed.
Well, she's Lying.
I'm not so sure.
There was something in the way that she told me that I believed her.
- Well if it wasn't Ross, - Well last night at the party, Millie Stafford told me that she'd had to attend the opera alone because her husband was working late at the office with Linnette.
But if Linnette is telling the truth, Then Kendall Stafford has no alibi.
- But how do you prove it? - I don't know.
There was no evidence at the scene, no witnesses.
I better tell this to Sergeant Slocum.
Maybe he'll make some sense out of it.
Why don't you hold off on that.
Just for tonight.
- Why? - Well Just an idea.
I won't talk about it until I've thought this through.
Preston? Please, Jess.
Just do as I ask.
I'll call you later.
Again at the bottom of page 234 it feels as if you're rushing the scene.
Let it run its course.
That's about it, Mr.
Nolan.
I don't know what’ll be happing here at Sutton Place Publishing but my advice is to find another publisher.
You're too good and so is your book to let it die.
I hope these notes will be useful to you.
Just because Giles doesn't answer the phone doesn't mean trouble.
For all we know, he isn't even there.
The doorman said he went to the office.
There's something wrong.
He had that look on his face earlier.
Good evening Mr.
Giles.
Mrs.
Stafford.
You sent my husband a note requesting a breakfast meeting.
I had the good sense to intercept it.
I have some business to discuss with him.
The note said it involved some papers.
Once owned by Martin Bergman implicating my husband in a financial swindle.
I want those papers, Mr.
Giles.
- I don't have them with me.
- Yes.
That's what Martin tried to tell me.
- You believe they were in his pocket? - I see.
So you took them out of his pocket after you killed him? Well, he didn't leave me much choice.
He'd been bleeding me dry.
After all, it was my money that Kendall had been paying Martin the past couple of years.
I finally got a little sick of it.
My big mistake was believing Martin when he said there was only one copy.
The papers, Mr.
Giles? There in a safe place where no one will ever find them.
Except me, of course.
No one, Mr.
Giles? Interesting.
I'm going to risk believing you.
It's Mrs.
Stafford.
Mrs.
Stafford! Hold it! Put your hands on the car, lady.
Lift up.
Let's go, lady.
Preston! Preston! A man has been shot in the Sutton Place Publishing suite.
Hurry, please! Preston, Preston We've got her, Jess.
The tape.
He was bleeding me dry.
After all, it was my money that Kendall had been paying Martin the past couple of years.