Murder, She Wrote s07e15 Episode Script
66311 - The Taxman Cometh
- What does the IRS want? - The usual, money.
Tonight on "Murder, She Wrote " The IRS can't find the money we withheld from the first two quarters? You saying the IRS doesn't have two quarters to rub together? That's blackmail.
We may take you house and your car, We may send you to jail.
But we'd never do anything as unsavory as blackmail.
- And what did you get? - I got rid of Nolan.
- I've read your stuff.
- Which of my books have you read? Books? I'm talking about your tax returns.
Put your hands up.
You must believe me, I don't know how the mistake was made.
Give me time, I'll get to the bottom of it.
I've never cheated on my income tax.
- Never.
- Before now.
Mr.
Yelverton, I'm a consultant with my ex-wife's company.
They pay me see line 16, paragraph C.
Their accountants screwed you, I mean, me.
I'm glad you brought up Edna Hayes.
Mr.
Hayes, in my business, there are oversights and there are oversights.
Mr.
Hayes, we're not out to get you.
We want to help you if you will help us.
- Of course, sir, - Not your taxes.
Aunt Edna's Baked Goods claim to have deposited two million dollars in quarterly withholding taxes.
Our records indicate otherwise.
My ex-wife owes you two million? More or less.
Help us to find it, and we'll forget about your little oversight.
Mr.
Yelverton - that's blackmail.
- Mr.
Hayes, We'd never do anything as unsavory as blackmail.
Edna? It's me, Jessica.
My plane landed about 20 minutes ago.
Jessica! My goodness, can you ever forgive me? I forgot to send the car to the airport, I forgot, wait a minute you are on your Midwest book promotion tour, aren't you? Yes.
At least I remembered something.
It's just been living hell for me, what with the IRS hassle, the loan, trying to run the plant.
Now be honest.
Have I come at a bad time? You sure have.
But I can't wait to see you.
I'll grab a taxi.
What with 1,500 employees nationwide, from whom we collect taxes, and then have to pay the IRS quarterly, not the remodeling load comes due, so the problem with the IRS is even more difficult.
Edna, slow down.
I've just landed and you've gotten me up in the air again.
Now, start at the beginning.
I wasn't in at the beginning.
My first recollection of any problem with the IRS came about a month ago, when George Arus, my vice president, stopped me in the parking lot early one morning.
- We need to talk.
- What is it, George? Well, something's wrong either in accounting, or payroll, or with our auditing firm.
- It just won't go away.
- Well, what does the IRS want? The usual.
Money.
I thought it was just a misplaced decimal point, some snafu that you didn't need to be bothered about.
It's an awful lot of paperwork for a misplaced decimal point.
That same morning I sat down with Gail Manning, she's head of accounting, Richard Wellstood, our in-house attorney, and J.
K.
Davern, sales and marketing exec.
How can the IRS want two million dollars, when we've already paid them? What is going on in the accounting department? I don't know.
And I've gone over this with the IRS, with our bank in St.
Louis, and with Spencer Prinz.
Who? He's with the auditing firm that handles the payroll in St.
Louis.
We regularly deposit the withholding taxes of the employees in St.
Louis, and then there, the money is passed along to the IRS.
Now, at the end of the fiscal year, the IRS can't find the money we withheld from the first two quarters.
Two million dollars.
It takes them several quarters to catch up.
We're now in the fourth quarter, and they want quarters one and two.
You're saying the IRS doesn't have two quarter to rub together? Neither will you, Richard.
Sorry, Edna.
But are you prepared to take on the government in tax court to prove Aunt Edna doesn't owe Uncle Sam? Edna, if this were my company, now is not the time to challenge the IRS.
If you're planning a takeover, thanks for the notice.
I started this firm on 500 bucks and 24 hour work days.
No pointy headed bureaucrat is going to make me roll over and play dead! Then the government may very well take the company away from you.
And the loan on the plant remodeling comes due next month.
What does one thing have to do with the other? Edan, if you have to pay the IRS twice, there's no money to repay the loan.
Yes, Dottie? It's my ex-husband.
It's something supposedly important.
Would you excuse me? Put him on, okay? What is it, Nolan? I'm a little busy now.
I hate to bother you, but it's about our divorce settlement.
That's why it's called a settlement, because once and for all, things are settled.
Thanks to me, you have been hunting and fishing for the past three years.
My quarrel's not with you, it's with the IRS, and the consultancy fee you pay me.
You mean you're in hot water, too? They're demanding that I pay taxes on a 300,000 dollar income.
I thought that the deal we worked out pays you only one.
Granted, your divorce lawyer had me over a barrel, but not in it.
Some fellow in your auditing firm named Spencer Prinz is supposed to help me out, but I keep missing him.
All right, I'll have Gail Manning deal directly with you, not with some nobody auditor.
Thanks.
Kind of romantic, isn't it.
You and me brought back together by the IRS.
It's not exactly romantic, Nolan.
It's more like a shotgun wedding.
About a week later, things came to a head, when I confronted the IRS.
A faceless bureaucrat.
He had a face.
Your worst nightmare.
Mr.
Hayes, stonewalling's not going to get you anywhere.
Who's stonewalling? I came from Jonesburg of my own free will.
Nobody comes here from anywhere of their own free will.
Look, I'm asking for two million dollars.
In the past, I've been commended by my superiors in Washington for exacting sums the size of the annual budget of a third world nation.
Don't push me.
I've got a Senator friend in Washington who can have you sharpening pencils in a fourth world nation.
Look, Mrs.
Hayes has always paid her fair share.
She employs 1500 people, she supports the arts What do you do at aunt Edna's Pies, Mr? He happens to be one of my vice presidents.
- And chief morale officer? - What's that supposed to mean? Look, let's just settle this whole thing before the lawyers make a killing.
Nothing personal, Mr.
Wellstood.
He's right.
With the loan almost due, a settlement is worth exploring.
Absolutely not.
That would be admitting that I'm a thief.
You said it, not me.
I will see you in court, buster.
And if you, or any one of your cronies, has pocketed the money, I'll also see you in jail! Let's go, gentlemen.
- Then what happened? - Then the phone rang.
It was you, at the airport.
We've known each other since we were in college together.
I know that you did not form this mini-empire by keeping two sets of books.
I'll fly in from wherever, and when your case comes up, I'll appear as your character witness.
Very kind of you, but it's going to take more than kind words to get out of this mess.
And this is a picture of me with a Congressman I helped reelect.
My campaign contributions helped him buy a houseboat off the coast of Costa Rica.
And he never even sends me a Christmas card.
Excuse me, Edna, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I thought you'd like to know Spencer Prinz, the auditor from St.
Louis, was in this morning.
J.
K.
and I had a good session with him and later he visits the IRS - with the payroll records.
- Better him than me.
- Thanks a lot.
- Sure.
- Nolan, good to see you.
- Richard.
Nolan! What an unexpected Treat? Hardly befits one's ex, but hello, Edna.
Jessica, it's been too long.
I'm truly sorry that things didn't work out for you two.
Thanks.
Edna, I need to talk to you.
Alone, if you don't mind.
If this is about our tax problems, Jessica knows all about it.
The IRS is really turning up the heat on me.
Let me guess, they want to cut a deal.
You divulge pillow talk, and creative bookkeeping at the highest level, and in return you're a free man.
You know I'm no hero, but let's help each other.
Whatever you can give them, our old returns, cancelled checks, and if there's anything I can turn over to you, call me anytime I shall, Nolan.
Do you have my car phone number? My secretary has it.
Jessica, stay well.
What can I say? It just didn't work out.
I imagine it was difficult for him being Mr.
Edna Hayes.
The problem was he enjoyed being Mr.
Edna Hayes.
We usually conclude our tour with some dessert.
Please, no more pastries.
Where is he? George, did you see Spencer Prinz? No, sorry.
There he is.
Spencer! You forgot the W-4 forms.
Wait up! I'll walk you to your car.
This message for Edna was laying on my desk when I came back from lunch.
- Is she around? - Here I am.
- Can I help you? - Yes.
A message.
Thanks.
- What does he want now? - The IRS? No, it's Nolan.
But he's running them a close second for Headache of the Week.
- You'll excuse us.
- Thank, George.
Jessica, I'm afraid I won't be able to take you to the concert tonight.
Don't worry about that.
I'll be perfectly fine.
But I feel awful, because I know how much you love Sibelius, and I asked them to play "Findlandia.
" - They take requests? - We underwrite the season.
We have to keep the string section in rosin.
Pardon me.
I just got the cupcake survey.
Could I ask you a big favor? Could you take Jessica to the concert tonight? Be happy to.
Two of our bakers are in the woodwind section.
They even read music.
He's dead.
No wallet on him.
The car is registered to an Edna Hayes.
Dormitory rules absolutely forbade cooking.
So when we baked brownies in our room, I hid them under the bed.
My mattress sagged and stuck to the fudge topping.
And from this humble culinary beginning, an empire was born.
Well, some of us have bosses to face early tomorrow morning.
Thanks again for joining me at the concert.
It's after eleven.
That's awfully late.
- Mrs.
Hayes? - Yes? According to the registration, Jaguar license place MCR 6475 is registered to you, is that right? We have a company car that's leased, you might say, to my ex-husband.
Why? There's been an accident and the driver has no identification.
Could you come with us, please? Is it Nolan? We don't know.
- Is he hurt? - Would you please come with us? Yes, that's Nolan.
Lieutenant, could you tell me what happened? No secret, the railroad tracks are a bad area.
Your husband was driving alone, he got a flat, took out a jack to change it, some thug, thief or wino shot him and took his wallet.
That's the way it looks.
Of all the times Nolan thought he could change a tire, in that neck of the woods.
Was gunfire overheard by anyone, you know, a witness? Nobody lives out there.
We couldn't find a soul.
Edna, you said, "Of all times, Nolan thought he could change a tire.
" You knew Nolan.
He couldn't open a can, let alone change a flat.
Which makes me think, if he couldn't change a flat, why was the jack out? Isn't that what you said, lieutenant? There was no pay phone or gas station around.
Mr.
Hayes had to give it a try, wouldn't you say? Actually, no.
I certainly wouldn't say.
After lunch Nolan said that you could reach him on his car phone.
Why didn't he stay safely in his car, and call the gas station or the auto club? You also said that nobody lived out there.
So what was he doing driving out there in the first place? We plan to run ballistics and fingerprint tests.
A lot of questions will be answered then.
How long have you and the deceased been divorced? Three years.
Was the parting friendly? These questions hardly come under the heading - of ballistics or fingerprint tests.
- It's all right.
We each got what we wanted out of the settlement.
Nolan got the farm, a car and an annual consultant's fee.
What did you get? Well, I got rid of Nolan.
Right, doc, I got it.
Is that right? It wasn't a nail, after all? The tire was slashed? Look, if you're one of those pain-in-the-tail St.
Louis reporters, I still don't have a thing on the Hayes murder.
I'm Field Director Yelverton, Internal Revenue Service.
I'll call you back.
Mr.
Yelverton, sir.
I thought my IRS problem was over.
They said they wouldn't repossess my car if I Relax, Lieutenant.
I'm here about Nolan Hayes' murder.
The murder.
Great! Coffee? Decaf, tea? I think we still have a Danish.
No, thank you.
Look, the IRS has lost a key witness in its tax case against Aunt Edna's Pies.
You may not be aware, Mrs.
Hayes owes us two million dollars.
Two million! Well, I guess repossessing her car is out.
- You catch on.
- You say Hayes was a witness? Are you familiar with the term "Judas goat"? Sure.
And Mrs.
Hayes was going to be the lamb chops.
I'd like to be the first to hear of any developments.
Actually, sir, the IRS has no jurisdiction in the Hayes' murder.
Are you still driving that '84 Buick? I'll be in touch.
Thanks for helping with Nolan's funeral arrangements.
- He had no one, you know.
- I know.
Mrs.
Hayes, I'd like to have a word with you.
As it goes along with some things you mentioned, Mrs.
Fletcher, - you can join us.
- Right this way.
Did you know your ex was going to testify against you in tax court? I'm not surprised.
But you're wasting your time if you think I had motive to kill him.
It's only an IRS claim that Mrs.
Hayes owes any money.
Sounds to me like you don't own a car.
My department found blood on the Jaguar's rear seat, and the flat tire got that way because of a six inch knife slash.
What are you saying? That Nolan was killed elsewhere? About 9 o'clock, and driven to the tracks.
What about the ballistic tests that you were going to run? Waiting word on them now.
I'm questioning everyone he knew, their whereabouts last night.
Miss Manning, Mr.
Arus and Wellstood were at home, they say.
JK.
Davern was at a concert, with you, Mrs.
Fletcher, I believe.
That's right.
And what about you? Where were you last night at nine? I was home alone.
- Is that so? - Yeah, I got home around 7:30.
I was waiting for Nolan.
He called the office that afternoon, said he'd be come home by nine.
He obviously didn't.
And then Jessica and J.
K.
returned about 10:30.
By yourself from 7:30 to 10:30.
That about it? Can anybody vouch for you, Edna? A phone call you got? Somebody who wanted to borrow a cup of something? Yes, the doorbell rang about nine.
I don't know where he was from, but it was some delivery man.
He had the wrong house and he left.
I see.
A delivery man you don't know, from a place you don't know didn't drop anything off at around nine.
Look, lieutenant, if I thought I needed an alibi, I would have invited him in.
There may be a few more questions, so please.
I have a company to run.
You know exactly where you can find me.
I'll be in touch.
Let me get you a car to take you to St.
Louis.
I don't want you to have to postpone your radio interview on my account.
You have got very important business to attend to.
Stalling the loan company.
it'll just bore you to death.
I mean Nolan's death, and your alibi, or lack of it.
You don't really think that I need an alibi? It's not important what I think.
Lieutenant Phillips is a man with a mission.
It's his job.
This delivery man, was there a sign on the side of the van? Was he wearing a uniform from some store? I don't know, the doorbell rang.
I was expecting Nolan, but I live alone and you never know.
So I said, "Who is it?" The voice said, "Delivery for 485 North Plainview.
" I realized he had the wrong address so I said, "This is 485 South Plainview and I head him walk away.
" I knew he was lost so I opened the door, he was in the shadows by the curb.
I pointed out the right way, he thanked me and left.
But I could never describe him.
Well it's a start.
It is? Yes, I did get a delivery the night before last, a pizza.
And where did the pizza come from? Sons of Sicily, "We deliver".
I was cold enough to have come from Palermo.
Thanks very much.
Come on Marty.
I got Calzone's on the thing! Sons of Sicily, this is Sal, what can I do for you? Good evening.
My name is Jessica Fletcher.
What's your address? Actually, I'm calling about a delivery man.
Two nights ago, he went to 485 North Plainview.
Great, if this is another complaint about Benny getting lost, - I fired the guy this morning.
- That's too bad.
So what kind of pizza do you want? Actually I want Benny's last name and a phone number, if you have one.
What do I sound like, a dating service? Well? Looks as if Benny's lost again.
Mrs.
Fletcher, Mrs.
Hayes - You certainly put in a full day! - Your tax dollars at work.
Mrs.
Hayes, do you happen to own a gun? Guns frighten me, I wouldn't have one in the house.
Our ballistics report came through.
A.
38 caliber killed your husband.
I see.
We may not be big city police like up in St.
Louis, but we know how to read state records.
A.
38 is registered in your name.
Bought about three years ago.
Hayes is a very common name.
Reread your records.
Would you mind if I had a word alone with Mrs.
Hayes? Why not? This isn't the dorm-mother asking why we're late for curfew, it's the police.
Sure.
You don't think that I killed Nolan? Of course not.
If you tell me that you don't own a gun, I'll believe it, too.
I cooperated with the IRS and where did it get me? I could get a search warrant.
It won't be necessary.
After the divorce, living along in this big house, I thought I should have it.
I never fired it.
I'm sorry I lied to you.
I haven't been myself lately.
One bullet has been fired, pretty recently, too.
- Are you sure? - Don't take an expert.
Smell.
I don't understand it.
I never fired that gun.
I have to read you your rights, Mrs.
Hayes.
I've got a 3x5 card someplace with the exact words.
This is ridiculous.
You can't charge Mrs.
Hayes with murder.
It's kind of funny Before running into you, I was content with "flat tire and robbery".
Here you go, fresh brewed just a few minutes ago.
And I brought you some extra butter for that Danish.
Even from behind bars, Mrs.
Hayes must pay her taxes.
Selling pies from stir won't be easy.
She won't have to lift a finger, we'll do it for her.
Has a nice ring.
Uncle Sam's Baked Goods.
I'd like to visit Mrs.
Hayes.
Will you fill this out, please? - Yes.
- Thank you.
- Mrs.
Fletcher.
- Yes.
I've been looking forward to meeting you, I've read your stuff.
Gerald Yelverton, IRS field director.
You've got a hell of an imagination, if my opinion counts.
Thank you.
Which one of my books have you read? Your books? I'm talking about your tax return.
Nothing personal.
Mrs.
Hayes has to pay what she owes.
If she owes it.
It occurred to me, if you write this trip off as a business expense the big stores and TV stations are in Kansas City and St.
Louis and not around here.
I was under the impression that what I did or didn't write off was my business.
A common misconception.
Excuse me, lieutenant.
Mrs.
Fletcher, still friends I hope.
Lieutenant, This morning I spoke to Edna's attorney who said that Edna's gun had been wiped clean of fingerprints.
So, she wiped them off.
Isn't that what you'd do after you'd shot someone? I would've thrown the gun away, not left it by my bed for the police to find.
But if I had been foolish enough to keep it, what difference would it make if my fingerprints were on my gun? Prints or no prints, it was her gun and I'm proceeding accordingly.
That pizza being delivered, is it from Sons of Sicily? No, we usually call Mr.
Pizzazz.
And besides those two about how many other pizza places are there in Jonesville? I don't know, two or three more.
- You hungry? - Yes, for an alibi.
Would you have a telephone directory I could look at? - Right here.
- Thanks.
What are you up to? I've decided I would like to order some pizza.
If I can find the right man to deliver it.
Here's Alberto Pizza Emporium, we deliver.
We'll start there.
If we're lucky, we'll find Benny working for the competition.
Thanks to Mrs.
Fletcher, we found Benny delivering for the competition.
Check off this box, we'll return your purse and things.
I was just doing my job, Mrs.
Hayes.
You understand.
- Your job? - His job, Edna.
The way it looks, a damn clever killer saw to it that you were left to twist slowing in the wind without an alibi.
I helped him, making Jessica go to the concert with J.
K.
- Gail.
- Yes? The other day, you gave Edna a message that Nolan had called.
Right.
- How did he sound? - Sound? Was he nervous, upset? I didn't actually speak with Nolan, there was a message on my desk when I got back from lunch.
Who put it there? Your secretary? I don't think so.
Patty had a dentist appointment that day.
She left early, took a long lunch.
So anybody could have put it on your desk.
Possibly as part of an attempt to frame Edna for murder.
It could have been Spencer Prinz, he's the auditor from St.
Louis.
He doesn't come here very often, but when he does he usually works through lunch when nobody's around.
- Maybe he took the call.
- I'm sure that's what happened.
I told Spencer to use you desk during lunch because he had to go over some payroll records.
An outside auditor has to get a phone and desk wherever he can.
Where is this Spencer Prinz? Probably going back to St.
Louis, he was here a minute ago.
This is almost funny.
If Edna's predicament wasn't so serious.
What is.
This mysterious Mr.
Prinz.
The other day he was here during lunch, nobody saw him.
Now he's on his way back to St.
Louis.
That's where his home office is.
I admit I did catch a glimpse of him, but the fact is everybody sees Spencer Prinz except me.
A little birdie didn't bring these checks from St.
Louis.
- Than you did see him? - Let me think.
- No.
- He gave the checks to me.
The police and the IRS have both talked to Spencer in their offices.
If his car is still here, you can talk to him too.
Spencer! Spencer! There he is.
There he goes.
Gail, get Spencer's home number and address in St.
Louis.
- Yes, sir.
- J.
K we're going to be late for that sales meeting.
This is really brutal.
If we pay the loan, we can't pay the IRS.
If we pay the IRS again, we can't repay the loan.
Computers, electronic banking, auditors.
It was simpler when people actually dealt with money.
These days, nobody knows a damn thing.
Maybe there is somebody.
Somebody who gets paid to know everything.
Mrs.
Fletcher, this is indeed a pleasure.
I must say in my 20 years of service, you're the first person to drop in voluntarily.
Thanks.
I must confess, I'm still a little uncomfortable.
Every taxpayer is.
Even relatively honest ones.
Please, sit down.
And unburden yourself of those two martini lunches you used to call "business".
I'm sure we can straighten everything out.
I didn't come here about my tax returns.
Really? I'm trying to track down a man named Spencer Prinz.
Everybody sees and talks to him but me.
And I need your help.
My help? Goodness.
Nobody ever asks for my help.
I was told that Spencer Prinz met with you.
I summoned him with the books from Aunt Edna's Baked Goods.
Naturally, he complied, they all comply What was he like? Like all of them.
Nervous, sweaty, afraid to look me in the eye.
But harmless.
Quiet fellow with glasses and bowtie.
You don't think that cog in the wheel actually pulled off a two million dollar tax swindle and a murder, too? Far be it for me to ask you to snoop, but you want two million dollars, and the police want a dangerous killer.
When you think about it, isn't that the way the IRS helped the police finally nail Al Capone? Scarface, Al Capone.
Those were the days.
Prinz let's see what we've got.
This isn't snooping.
This is T-Men in action.
Social security number.
These were the years he was filing his taxes when he was resident in Illinois, I don't like this.
I don't like this at all.
He paid us every cent he owed us.
And filed early each year.
Here's where he transferred to the auditing firm in St.
Louis a year ago.
My mistake.
Wait a minute.
I've lost him.
- In St.
Louis? - Hold on! Spencer Prinz! It's not my mistake.
We don't make mistakes.
- It's not lost.
- You found him.
No, you found him for us.
He didn't file this year.
Of course he hasn't.
Not someone who's embezzled two million dollars.
For once, I tend to agree with you.
Excellent.
I'm sure Spencer Prinz will be easier to jail than Al Capone.
I wouldn't count on that.
First you'll have to find him.
Of course I'm overextended.
But you know what this business is worth.
All I'm asking for is a short-term Yes.
There are jobs at stake here.
I won't throw these people out of work.
You just have your meeting with the loan committee, and call me when they turn me down.
Even Roy, huh? That parsimonious jerk.
I don't know how the bank stays afloat with him in charge.
Where's Jessica? I thought you two would go over the books.
She went to St.
Louis with that police lieutenant.
She's got it in her head, that he's a figment of someone's imagination.
I have to tell you I'm beginning to agree with her.
He isn't here.
What else is new? Certainly looks as if he had quite a party last night.
Poker.
A bunch of slobs.
Chips on the floor, rings on the table.
That's what I get paid to do.
When is that last time you saw him? See him? I never see him.
- Never? - No.
A few months ago when he hired me, but since then never.
He's always working whenever I'm here.
He leaves me an envelope with cash on that table.
I see.
And what does he look like? I don't know Medium size, medium build, glasses, mustache, and he wore a bowtie.
Mrs.
Fletcher looks like Prinz is our man after all.
Look, Hayes' wallet, credit cards.
Driver's license.
But this makes no sense.
If you embezzle two million dollars, why would you steal a wallet but keep it laying around? It wasn't laying around.
It was hidden.
I'm putting out an APB on Spencer Prinz.
White male, glasses, moustache, and bowtie.
I'll also have the local police both stake out here and the airport.
If it's not too late.
This is like cramming for finals.
Yes, but there's no way of making it up in summer school.
If we don't find the hidden money by tomorrow morning, It must be a power failure.
But this light is on.
Don't move, ladies.
Put your hands up.
And step back.
The ghost returns.
Spencer Prinz, I presume.
That's right.
I'll relieve you of this slightly incriminating volume and be on my way.
You did steal the money, didn't you? Yes, and I was forced to kill your ex-husband.
He found out what I was doing.
A foolish and greedy man.
Now don't force me to use this again.
Step into the closet.
He's gone.
I'll call 911.
Get a hold lieutenant Phillips right away and have him come to Edna's factory.
Tell him we have found Spencer Prinz and that he is armed.
Be careful.
- Come on.
- The man has a gun! That was a shot! Richard, what happened? I came by to help you go through the books.
I saw Spencer running toward me.
He had a gun.
He told me to freeze.
As he was going by me to get in his car I don't know where I got the courage, I tackled him.
We fought for his gun.
And it went off.
I've never even held a gun.
In my life.
Much less, kill a man.
That's odd, look at his hair.
It looks like a wig.
It's J.
K.
Davern.
He was Spencer Prinz? He killed Nolan? This is unbelievable.
He had me completely fooled.
When you think about it, it makes perfect sense.
J.
K.
designed our computer marketing, and billing.
Our payroll systems.
He could have easily buried two million dollars.
Edna, the gun.
Please pick it up.
Be careful with that, Edna.
I want you to cover Richard.
Cover me? That's ridiculous.
- What? - Now! Do it! If you say so.
Don't be absurd! I shot Prinz, I mean J.
K.
, but it was self defense.
- Obviously.
- No, Richard.
What is obvious has finally got through to me.
Unless my eyes are totally gone, the gun you said that you picked up from J.
K is not the same gun that was pointed at us inside.
Of course it is.
It was less than a minute.
From the time we heard the shot until we got here.
to hide a gun.
I know guns.
Especially when one's pointed at me.
And I'm staring down its barrel.
There are two guns there, Wellstood, how do you explain that? I don't.
What must have happened is Spencer Prince, sorry, J.
K left the bakery, pocketed the gun and then was shot by Richard point blank.
Richard hid J.
K.
's gun in the waste barrel and tried to make us believe the gun he brought was the one - J.
K.
threatened us with.
- Total nonsense.
I don't deny shooting Spencer Prinz, but I was as surprised an anyone to learn he was really J.
K.
Davern.
No.
I think that you and J.
K.
tried out the fictitious Spencer Prinz one more time for my benefit.
Jessica was the only one curious enough to want a face to face encounter with him.
It seemed odd that the outside auditor's appearances at Edna's company were limited, and always verified by you, Richard.
Or by J.
K.
In other words, it took two men to create the third employee.
An illusive man, with an apartment, a maid, a car and a passion for bowties.
My first glimpse of Spencer Prinz was from quite a distance when you called to him that he'd forgot the W-4 forms.
And offered to walk him to his car.
A few days later when my curiosity about Spencer Prinz grew this time it was you, Richard, who dressed up as Spencer.
J.
K.
tried to stop Spencer before he drove back to St.
Louis.
But as usual, we were all a few steps behind.
And as usual, either you or your partner were vouching for him.
The catch was that no one ever saw all three of you together.
There's something wrong, Jessica.
J.
K.
escorted you to the concert, the night that Nolan was killed.
So he couldn't have killed Nolan.
Yet he confessed the murder to us that night in our office.
Yes, but when he confessed, he didn't know that he would be double-crossed.
Lieutenant, you can't take any of this seriously.
That's where you're wrong.
I buy it and I think the D.
A.
will too.
Would you like to call your lawyer now? Or maybe you'd like to tell us how it happened.
He might go easier on you.
Damn it.
We were so close.
Only J.
K.
and I knew the real Spencer Prinz, who was about to transfer from Chicago to St.
Louis a year ago.
A week before he was due to arrive, he died of a heart attack.
That's when we hatched the scheme to steal the tax deposits by keeping Spencer alive.
When the fiscal year was up, Spencer would disappear with no trace taking with him all the blame.
- And two million dollars.
- Okay, - but why did you have to kill Nolan.
- J.
K.
got greedy.
He forged a $200,00 payroll check to Nolan who and cashed it to himself.
I figured it would take the IRS forever to catch up with the problems It didn't.
Nolan was desperate for answers.
So after getting the runaround from Spencer Prinz by phone, he came to our office to see Spencer in person.
One of the secretaries must have told him Prinz just left.
Nolan tried to catch up to him.
J.
K.
was taking his turn as Spencer.
Getting into the rental car to pretend to drive back to St.
Louis, His wig was accidentally knocked loose.
As he replaced it, he didn't see Nolan staring at him.
Observing the metamorphosis.
Nolan turned and ran back inside.
That's when he made his fatal mistake.
He came directly to me and said, "No wonder Edna was having problems, never mind two sets of books, her company has two sets of employees.
" - We had to act quickly.
- Of course.
And since Nolan was making waves for Edna, why not frame her for the murder.
We set up the bogus telephone message leaving Edna without an alibi.
I went to her house, entered through a rear window, and took the gun we all new she kept in her drawer.
I drove out to Nolan's farm.
I called in to him.
He came out.
Surprised to see me.
I shot him.
Put his body in the car.
Drove to the tracks, took out the jack, made it all look like a flat tire and robbery.
I returned the gun to your house while you were with the police.
Once Mrs.
Fletcher got you off the hot seat, and became suspicious of Spencer Prinz we shifted the blame from embezzlement and murder, to the perfect fall guy.
The man who didn't exist.
We came close.
The IRS has billions.
Edna has millions.
J.
K.
and me, we just wanted a piece of the pie.
Tonight on "Murder, She Wrote " The IRS can't find the money we withheld from the first two quarters? You saying the IRS doesn't have two quarters to rub together? That's blackmail.
We may take you house and your car, We may send you to jail.
But we'd never do anything as unsavory as blackmail.
- And what did you get? - I got rid of Nolan.
- I've read your stuff.
- Which of my books have you read? Books? I'm talking about your tax returns.
Put your hands up.
You must believe me, I don't know how the mistake was made.
Give me time, I'll get to the bottom of it.
I've never cheated on my income tax.
- Never.
- Before now.
Mr.
Yelverton, I'm a consultant with my ex-wife's company.
They pay me see line 16, paragraph C.
Their accountants screwed you, I mean, me.
I'm glad you brought up Edna Hayes.
Mr.
Hayes, in my business, there are oversights and there are oversights.
Mr.
Hayes, we're not out to get you.
We want to help you if you will help us.
- Of course, sir, - Not your taxes.
Aunt Edna's Baked Goods claim to have deposited two million dollars in quarterly withholding taxes.
Our records indicate otherwise.
My ex-wife owes you two million? More or less.
Help us to find it, and we'll forget about your little oversight.
Mr.
Yelverton - that's blackmail.
- Mr.
Hayes, We'd never do anything as unsavory as blackmail.
Edna? It's me, Jessica.
My plane landed about 20 minutes ago.
Jessica! My goodness, can you ever forgive me? I forgot to send the car to the airport, I forgot, wait a minute you are on your Midwest book promotion tour, aren't you? Yes.
At least I remembered something.
It's just been living hell for me, what with the IRS hassle, the loan, trying to run the plant.
Now be honest.
Have I come at a bad time? You sure have.
But I can't wait to see you.
I'll grab a taxi.
What with 1,500 employees nationwide, from whom we collect taxes, and then have to pay the IRS quarterly, not the remodeling load comes due, so the problem with the IRS is even more difficult.
Edna, slow down.
I've just landed and you've gotten me up in the air again.
Now, start at the beginning.
I wasn't in at the beginning.
My first recollection of any problem with the IRS came about a month ago, when George Arus, my vice president, stopped me in the parking lot early one morning.
- We need to talk.
- What is it, George? Well, something's wrong either in accounting, or payroll, or with our auditing firm.
- It just won't go away.
- Well, what does the IRS want? The usual.
Money.
I thought it was just a misplaced decimal point, some snafu that you didn't need to be bothered about.
It's an awful lot of paperwork for a misplaced decimal point.
That same morning I sat down with Gail Manning, she's head of accounting, Richard Wellstood, our in-house attorney, and J.
K.
Davern, sales and marketing exec.
How can the IRS want two million dollars, when we've already paid them? What is going on in the accounting department? I don't know.
And I've gone over this with the IRS, with our bank in St.
Louis, and with Spencer Prinz.
Who? He's with the auditing firm that handles the payroll in St.
Louis.
We regularly deposit the withholding taxes of the employees in St.
Louis, and then there, the money is passed along to the IRS.
Now, at the end of the fiscal year, the IRS can't find the money we withheld from the first two quarters.
Two million dollars.
It takes them several quarters to catch up.
We're now in the fourth quarter, and they want quarters one and two.
You're saying the IRS doesn't have two quarter to rub together? Neither will you, Richard.
Sorry, Edna.
But are you prepared to take on the government in tax court to prove Aunt Edna doesn't owe Uncle Sam? Edna, if this were my company, now is not the time to challenge the IRS.
If you're planning a takeover, thanks for the notice.
I started this firm on 500 bucks and 24 hour work days.
No pointy headed bureaucrat is going to make me roll over and play dead! Then the government may very well take the company away from you.
And the loan on the plant remodeling comes due next month.
What does one thing have to do with the other? Edan, if you have to pay the IRS twice, there's no money to repay the loan.
Yes, Dottie? It's my ex-husband.
It's something supposedly important.
Would you excuse me? Put him on, okay? What is it, Nolan? I'm a little busy now.
I hate to bother you, but it's about our divorce settlement.
That's why it's called a settlement, because once and for all, things are settled.
Thanks to me, you have been hunting and fishing for the past three years.
My quarrel's not with you, it's with the IRS, and the consultancy fee you pay me.
You mean you're in hot water, too? They're demanding that I pay taxes on a 300,000 dollar income.
I thought that the deal we worked out pays you only one.
Granted, your divorce lawyer had me over a barrel, but not in it.
Some fellow in your auditing firm named Spencer Prinz is supposed to help me out, but I keep missing him.
All right, I'll have Gail Manning deal directly with you, not with some nobody auditor.
Thanks.
Kind of romantic, isn't it.
You and me brought back together by the IRS.
It's not exactly romantic, Nolan.
It's more like a shotgun wedding.
About a week later, things came to a head, when I confronted the IRS.
A faceless bureaucrat.
He had a face.
Your worst nightmare.
Mr.
Hayes, stonewalling's not going to get you anywhere.
Who's stonewalling? I came from Jonesburg of my own free will.
Nobody comes here from anywhere of their own free will.
Look, I'm asking for two million dollars.
In the past, I've been commended by my superiors in Washington for exacting sums the size of the annual budget of a third world nation.
Don't push me.
I've got a Senator friend in Washington who can have you sharpening pencils in a fourth world nation.
Look, Mrs.
Hayes has always paid her fair share.
She employs 1500 people, she supports the arts What do you do at aunt Edna's Pies, Mr? He happens to be one of my vice presidents.
- And chief morale officer? - What's that supposed to mean? Look, let's just settle this whole thing before the lawyers make a killing.
Nothing personal, Mr.
Wellstood.
He's right.
With the loan almost due, a settlement is worth exploring.
Absolutely not.
That would be admitting that I'm a thief.
You said it, not me.
I will see you in court, buster.
And if you, or any one of your cronies, has pocketed the money, I'll also see you in jail! Let's go, gentlemen.
- Then what happened? - Then the phone rang.
It was you, at the airport.
We've known each other since we were in college together.
I know that you did not form this mini-empire by keeping two sets of books.
I'll fly in from wherever, and when your case comes up, I'll appear as your character witness.
Very kind of you, but it's going to take more than kind words to get out of this mess.
And this is a picture of me with a Congressman I helped reelect.
My campaign contributions helped him buy a houseboat off the coast of Costa Rica.
And he never even sends me a Christmas card.
Excuse me, Edna, Mrs.
Fletcher.
I thought you'd like to know Spencer Prinz, the auditor from St.
Louis, was in this morning.
J.
K.
and I had a good session with him and later he visits the IRS - with the payroll records.
- Better him than me.
- Thanks a lot.
- Sure.
- Nolan, good to see you.
- Richard.
Nolan! What an unexpected Treat? Hardly befits one's ex, but hello, Edna.
Jessica, it's been too long.
I'm truly sorry that things didn't work out for you two.
Thanks.
Edna, I need to talk to you.
Alone, if you don't mind.
If this is about our tax problems, Jessica knows all about it.
The IRS is really turning up the heat on me.
Let me guess, they want to cut a deal.
You divulge pillow talk, and creative bookkeeping at the highest level, and in return you're a free man.
You know I'm no hero, but let's help each other.
Whatever you can give them, our old returns, cancelled checks, and if there's anything I can turn over to you, call me anytime I shall, Nolan.
Do you have my car phone number? My secretary has it.
Jessica, stay well.
What can I say? It just didn't work out.
I imagine it was difficult for him being Mr.
Edna Hayes.
The problem was he enjoyed being Mr.
Edna Hayes.
We usually conclude our tour with some dessert.
Please, no more pastries.
Where is he? George, did you see Spencer Prinz? No, sorry.
There he is.
Spencer! You forgot the W-4 forms.
Wait up! I'll walk you to your car.
This message for Edna was laying on my desk when I came back from lunch.
- Is she around? - Here I am.
- Can I help you? - Yes.
A message.
Thanks.
- What does he want now? - The IRS? No, it's Nolan.
But he's running them a close second for Headache of the Week.
- You'll excuse us.
- Thank, George.
Jessica, I'm afraid I won't be able to take you to the concert tonight.
Don't worry about that.
I'll be perfectly fine.
But I feel awful, because I know how much you love Sibelius, and I asked them to play "Findlandia.
" - They take requests? - We underwrite the season.
We have to keep the string section in rosin.
Pardon me.
I just got the cupcake survey.
Could I ask you a big favor? Could you take Jessica to the concert tonight? Be happy to.
Two of our bakers are in the woodwind section.
They even read music.
He's dead.
No wallet on him.
The car is registered to an Edna Hayes.
Dormitory rules absolutely forbade cooking.
So when we baked brownies in our room, I hid them under the bed.
My mattress sagged and stuck to the fudge topping.
And from this humble culinary beginning, an empire was born.
Well, some of us have bosses to face early tomorrow morning.
Thanks again for joining me at the concert.
It's after eleven.
That's awfully late.
- Mrs.
Hayes? - Yes? According to the registration, Jaguar license place MCR 6475 is registered to you, is that right? We have a company car that's leased, you might say, to my ex-husband.
Why? There's been an accident and the driver has no identification.
Could you come with us, please? Is it Nolan? We don't know.
- Is he hurt? - Would you please come with us? Yes, that's Nolan.
Lieutenant, could you tell me what happened? No secret, the railroad tracks are a bad area.
Your husband was driving alone, he got a flat, took out a jack to change it, some thug, thief or wino shot him and took his wallet.
That's the way it looks.
Of all the times Nolan thought he could change a tire, in that neck of the woods.
Was gunfire overheard by anyone, you know, a witness? Nobody lives out there.
We couldn't find a soul.
Edna, you said, "Of all times, Nolan thought he could change a tire.
" You knew Nolan.
He couldn't open a can, let alone change a flat.
Which makes me think, if he couldn't change a flat, why was the jack out? Isn't that what you said, lieutenant? There was no pay phone or gas station around.
Mr.
Hayes had to give it a try, wouldn't you say? Actually, no.
I certainly wouldn't say.
After lunch Nolan said that you could reach him on his car phone.
Why didn't he stay safely in his car, and call the gas station or the auto club? You also said that nobody lived out there.
So what was he doing driving out there in the first place? We plan to run ballistics and fingerprint tests.
A lot of questions will be answered then.
How long have you and the deceased been divorced? Three years.
Was the parting friendly? These questions hardly come under the heading - of ballistics or fingerprint tests.
- It's all right.
We each got what we wanted out of the settlement.
Nolan got the farm, a car and an annual consultant's fee.
What did you get? Well, I got rid of Nolan.
Right, doc, I got it.
Is that right? It wasn't a nail, after all? The tire was slashed? Look, if you're one of those pain-in-the-tail St.
Louis reporters, I still don't have a thing on the Hayes murder.
I'm Field Director Yelverton, Internal Revenue Service.
I'll call you back.
Mr.
Yelverton, sir.
I thought my IRS problem was over.
They said they wouldn't repossess my car if I Relax, Lieutenant.
I'm here about Nolan Hayes' murder.
The murder.
Great! Coffee? Decaf, tea? I think we still have a Danish.
No, thank you.
Look, the IRS has lost a key witness in its tax case against Aunt Edna's Pies.
You may not be aware, Mrs.
Hayes owes us two million dollars.
Two million! Well, I guess repossessing her car is out.
- You catch on.
- You say Hayes was a witness? Are you familiar with the term "Judas goat"? Sure.
And Mrs.
Hayes was going to be the lamb chops.
I'd like to be the first to hear of any developments.
Actually, sir, the IRS has no jurisdiction in the Hayes' murder.
Are you still driving that '84 Buick? I'll be in touch.
Thanks for helping with Nolan's funeral arrangements.
- He had no one, you know.
- I know.
Mrs.
Hayes, I'd like to have a word with you.
As it goes along with some things you mentioned, Mrs.
Fletcher, - you can join us.
- Right this way.
Did you know your ex was going to testify against you in tax court? I'm not surprised.
But you're wasting your time if you think I had motive to kill him.
It's only an IRS claim that Mrs.
Hayes owes any money.
Sounds to me like you don't own a car.
My department found blood on the Jaguar's rear seat, and the flat tire got that way because of a six inch knife slash.
What are you saying? That Nolan was killed elsewhere? About 9 o'clock, and driven to the tracks.
What about the ballistic tests that you were going to run? Waiting word on them now.
I'm questioning everyone he knew, their whereabouts last night.
Miss Manning, Mr.
Arus and Wellstood were at home, they say.
JK.
Davern was at a concert, with you, Mrs.
Fletcher, I believe.
That's right.
And what about you? Where were you last night at nine? I was home alone.
- Is that so? - Yeah, I got home around 7:30.
I was waiting for Nolan.
He called the office that afternoon, said he'd be come home by nine.
He obviously didn't.
And then Jessica and J.
K.
returned about 10:30.
By yourself from 7:30 to 10:30.
That about it? Can anybody vouch for you, Edna? A phone call you got? Somebody who wanted to borrow a cup of something? Yes, the doorbell rang about nine.
I don't know where he was from, but it was some delivery man.
He had the wrong house and he left.
I see.
A delivery man you don't know, from a place you don't know didn't drop anything off at around nine.
Look, lieutenant, if I thought I needed an alibi, I would have invited him in.
There may be a few more questions, so please.
I have a company to run.
You know exactly where you can find me.
I'll be in touch.
Let me get you a car to take you to St.
Louis.
I don't want you to have to postpone your radio interview on my account.
You have got very important business to attend to.
Stalling the loan company.
it'll just bore you to death.
I mean Nolan's death, and your alibi, or lack of it.
You don't really think that I need an alibi? It's not important what I think.
Lieutenant Phillips is a man with a mission.
It's his job.
This delivery man, was there a sign on the side of the van? Was he wearing a uniform from some store? I don't know, the doorbell rang.
I was expecting Nolan, but I live alone and you never know.
So I said, "Who is it?" The voice said, "Delivery for 485 North Plainview.
" I realized he had the wrong address so I said, "This is 485 South Plainview and I head him walk away.
" I knew he was lost so I opened the door, he was in the shadows by the curb.
I pointed out the right way, he thanked me and left.
But I could never describe him.
Well it's a start.
It is? Yes, I did get a delivery the night before last, a pizza.
And where did the pizza come from? Sons of Sicily, "We deliver".
I was cold enough to have come from Palermo.
Thanks very much.
Come on Marty.
I got Calzone's on the thing! Sons of Sicily, this is Sal, what can I do for you? Good evening.
My name is Jessica Fletcher.
What's your address? Actually, I'm calling about a delivery man.
Two nights ago, he went to 485 North Plainview.
Great, if this is another complaint about Benny getting lost, - I fired the guy this morning.
- That's too bad.
So what kind of pizza do you want? Actually I want Benny's last name and a phone number, if you have one.
What do I sound like, a dating service? Well? Looks as if Benny's lost again.
Mrs.
Fletcher, Mrs.
Hayes - You certainly put in a full day! - Your tax dollars at work.
Mrs.
Hayes, do you happen to own a gun? Guns frighten me, I wouldn't have one in the house.
Our ballistics report came through.
A.
38 caliber killed your husband.
I see.
We may not be big city police like up in St.
Louis, but we know how to read state records.
A.
38 is registered in your name.
Bought about three years ago.
Hayes is a very common name.
Reread your records.
Would you mind if I had a word alone with Mrs.
Hayes? Why not? This isn't the dorm-mother asking why we're late for curfew, it's the police.
Sure.
You don't think that I killed Nolan? Of course not.
If you tell me that you don't own a gun, I'll believe it, too.
I cooperated with the IRS and where did it get me? I could get a search warrant.
It won't be necessary.
After the divorce, living along in this big house, I thought I should have it.
I never fired it.
I'm sorry I lied to you.
I haven't been myself lately.
One bullet has been fired, pretty recently, too.
- Are you sure? - Don't take an expert.
Smell.
I don't understand it.
I never fired that gun.
I have to read you your rights, Mrs.
Hayes.
I've got a 3x5 card someplace with the exact words.
This is ridiculous.
You can't charge Mrs.
Hayes with murder.
It's kind of funny Before running into you, I was content with "flat tire and robbery".
Here you go, fresh brewed just a few minutes ago.
And I brought you some extra butter for that Danish.
Even from behind bars, Mrs.
Hayes must pay her taxes.
Selling pies from stir won't be easy.
She won't have to lift a finger, we'll do it for her.
Has a nice ring.
Uncle Sam's Baked Goods.
I'd like to visit Mrs.
Hayes.
Will you fill this out, please? - Yes.
- Thank you.
- Mrs.
Fletcher.
- Yes.
I've been looking forward to meeting you, I've read your stuff.
Gerald Yelverton, IRS field director.
You've got a hell of an imagination, if my opinion counts.
Thank you.
Which one of my books have you read? Your books? I'm talking about your tax return.
Nothing personal.
Mrs.
Hayes has to pay what she owes.
If she owes it.
It occurred to me, if you write this trip off as a business expense the big stores and TV stations are in Kansas City and St.
Louis and not around here.
I was under the impression that what I did or didn't write off was my business.
A common misconception.
Excuse me, lieutenant.
Mrs.
Fletcher, still friends I hope.
Lieutenant, This morning I spoke to Edna's attorney who said that Edna's gun had been wiped clean of fingerprints.
So, she wiped them off.
Isn't that what you'd do after you'd shot someone? I would've thrown the gun away, not left it by my bed for the police to find.
But if I had been foolish enough to keep it, what difference would it make if my fingerprints were on my gun? Prints or no prints, it was her gun and I'm proceeding accordingly.
That pizza being delivered, is it from Sons of Sicily? No, we usually call Mr.
Pizzazz.
And besides those two about how many other pizza places are there in Jonesville? I don't know, two or three more.
- You hungry? - Yes, for an alibi.
Would you have a telephone directory I could look at? - Right here.
- Thanks.
What are you up to? I've decided I would like to order some pizza.
If I can find the right man to deliver it.
Here's Alberto Pizza Emporium, we deliver.
We'll start there.
If we're lucky, we'll find Benny working for the competition.
Thanks to Mrs.
Fletcher, we found Benny delivering for the competition.
Check off this box, we'll return your purse and things.
I was just doing my job, Mrs.
Hayes.
You understand.
- Your job? - His job, Edna.
The way it looks, a damn clever killer saw to it that you were left to twist slowing in the wind without an alibi.
I helped him, making Jessica go to the concert with J.
K.
- Gail.
- Yes? The other day, you gave Edna a message that Nolan had called.
Right.
- How did he sound? - Sound? Was he nervous, upset? I didn't actually speak with Nolan, there was a message on my desk when I got back from lunch.
Who put it there? Your secretary? I don't think so.
Patty had a dentist appointment that day.
She left early, took a long lunch.
So anybody could have put it on your desk.
Possibly as part of an attempt to frame Edna for murder.
It could have been Spencer Prinz, he's the auditor from St.
Louis.
He doesn't come here very often, but when he does he usually works through lunch when nobody's around.
- Maybe he took the call.
- I'm sure that's what happened.
I told Spencer to use you desk during lunch because he had to go over some payroll records.
An outside auditor has to get a phone and desk wherever he can.
Where is this Spencer Prinz? Probably going back to St.
Louis, he was here a minute ago.
This is almost funny.
If Edna's predicament wasn't so serious.
What is.
This mysterious Mr.
Prinz.
The other day he was here during lunch, nobody saw him.
Now he's on his way back to St.
Louis.
That's where his home office is.
I admit I did catch a glimpse of him, but the fact is everybody sees Spencer Prinz except me.
A little birdie didn't bring these checks from St.
Louis.
- Than you did see him? - Let me think.
- No.
- He gave the checks to me.
The police and the IRS have both talked to Spencer in their offices.
If his car is still here, you can talk to him too.
Spencer! Spencer! There he is.
There he goes.
Gail, get Spencer's home number and address in St.
Louis.
- Yes, sir.
- J.
K we're going to be late for that sales meeting.
This is really brutal.
If we pay the loan, we can't pay the IRS.
If we pay the IRS again, we can't repay the loan.
Computers, electronic banking, auditors.
It was simpler when people actually dealt with money.
These days, nobody knows a damn thing.
Maybe there is somebody.
Somebody who gets paid to know everything.
Mrs.
Fletcher, this is indeed a pleasure.
I must say in my 20 years of service, you're the first person to drop in voluntarily.
Thanks.
I must confess, I'm still a little uncomfortable.
Every taxpayer is.
Even relatively honest ones.
Please, sit down.
And unburden yourself of those two martini lunches you used to call "business".
I'm sure we can straighten everything out.
I didn't come here about my tax returns.
Really? I'm trying to track down a man named Spencer Prinz.
Everybody sees and talks to him but me.
And I need your help.
My help? Goodness.
Nobody ever asks for my help.
I was told that Spencer Prinz met with you.
I summoned him with the books from Aunt Edna's Baked Goods.
Naturally, he complied, they all comply What was he like? Like all of them.
Nervous, sweaty, afraid to look me in the eye.
But harmless.
Quiet fellow with glasses and bowtie.
You don't think that cog in the wheel actually pulled off a two million dollar tax swindle and a murder, too? Far be it for me to ask you to snoop, but you want two million dollars, and the police want a dangerous killer.
When you think about it, isn't that the way the IRS helped the police finally nail Al Capone? Scarface, Al Capone.
Those were the days.
Prinz let's see what we've got.
This isn't snooping.
This is T-Men in action.
Social security number.
These were the years he was filing his taxes when he was resident in Illinois, I don't like this.
I don't like this at all.
He paid us every cent he owed us.
And filed early each year.
Here's where he transferred to the auditing firm in St.
Louis a year ago.
My mistake.
Wait a minute.
I've lost him.
- In St.
Louis? - Hold on! Spencer Prinz! It's not my mistake.
We don't make mistakes.
- It's not lost.
- You found him.
No, you found him for us.
He didn't file this year.
Of course he hasn't.
Not someone who's embezzled two million dollars.
For once, I tend to agree with you.
Excellent.
I'm sure Spencer Prinz will be easier to jail than Al Capone.
I wouldn't count on that.
First you'll have to find him.
Of course I'm overextended.
But you know what this business is worth.
All I'm asking for is a short-term Yes.
There are jobs at stake here.
I won't throw these people out of work.
You just have your meeting with the loan committee, and call me when they turn me down.
Even Roy, huh? That parsimonious jerk.
I don't know how the bank stays afloat with him in charge.
Where's Jessica? I thought you two would go over the books.
She went to St.
Louis with that police lieutenant.
She's got it in her head, that he's a figment of someone's imagination.
I have to tell you I'm beginning to agree with her.
He isn't here.
What else is new? Certainly looks as if he had quite a party last night.
Poker.
A bunch of slobs.
Chips on the floor, rings on the table.
That's what I get paid to do.
When is that last time you saw him? See him? I never see him.
- Never? - No.
A few months ago when he hired me, but since then never.
He's always working whenever I'm here.
He leaves me an envelope with cash on that table.
I see.
And what does he look like? I don't know Medium size, medium build, glasses, mustache, and he wore a bowtie.
Mrs.
Fletcher looks like Prinz is our man after all.
Look, Hayes' wallet, credit cards.
Driver's license.
But this makes no sense.
If you embezzle two million dollars, why would you steal a wallet but keep it laying around? It wasn't laying around.
It was hidden.
I'm putting out an APB on Spencer Prinz.
White male, glasses, moustache, and bowtie.
I'll also have the local police both stake out here and the airport.
If it's not too late.
This is like cramming for finals.
Yes, but there's no way of making it up in summer school.
If we don't find the hidden money by tomorrow morning, It must be a power failure.
But this light is on.
Don't move, ladies.
Put your hands up.
And step back.
The ghost returns.
Spencer Prinz, I presume.
That's right.
I'll relieve you of this slightly incriminating volume and be on my way.
You did steal the money, didn't you? Yes, and I was forced to kill your ex-husband.
He found out what I was doing.
A foolish and greedy man.
Now don't force me to use this again.
Step into the closet.
He's gone.
I'll call 911.
Get a hold lieutenant Phillips right away and have him come to Edna's factory.
Tell him we have found Spencer Prinz and that he is armed.
Be careful.
- Come on.
- The man has a gun! That was a shot! Richard, what happened? I came by to help you go through the books.
I saw Spencer running toward me.
He had a gun.
He told me to freeze.
As he was going by me to get in his car I don't know where I got the courage, I tackled him.
We fought for his gun.
And it went off.
I've never even held a gun.
In my life.
Much less, kill a man.
That's odd, look at his hair.
It looks like a wig.
It's J.
K.
Davern.
He was Spencer Prinz? He killed Nolan? This is unbelievable.
He had me completely fooled.
When you think about it, it makes perfect sense.
J.
K.
designed our computer marketing, and billing.
Our payroll systems.
He could have easily buried two million dollars.
Edna, the gun.
Please pick it up.
Be careful with that, Edna.
I want you to cover Richard.
Cover me? That's ridiculous.
- What? - Now! Do it! If you say so.
Don't be absurd! I shot Prinz, I mean J.
K.
, but it was self defense.
- Obviously.
- No, Richard.
What is obvious has finally got through to me.
Unless my eyes are totally gone, the gun you said that you picked up from J.
K is not the same gun that was pointed at us inside.
Of course it is.
It was less than a minute.
From the time we heard the shot until we got here.
to hide a gun.
I know guns.
Especially when one's pointed at me.
And I'm staring down its barrel.
There are two guns there, Wellstood, how do you explain that? I don't.
What must have happened is Spencer Prince, sorry, J.
K left the bakery, pocketed the gun and then was shot by Richard point blank.
Richard hid J.
K.
's gun in the waste barrel and tried to make us believe the gun he brought was the one - J.
K.
threatened us with.
- Total nonsense.
I don't deny shooting Spencer Prinz, but I was as surprised an anyone to learn he was really J.
K.
Davern.
No.
I think that you and J.
K.
tried out the fictitious Spencer Prinz one more time for my benefit.
Jessica was the only one curious enough to want a face to face encounter with him.
It seemed odd that the outside auditor's appearances at Edna's company were limited, and always verified by you, Richard.
Or by J.
K.
In other words, it took two men to create the third employee.
An illusive man, with an apartment, a maid, a car and a passion for bowties.
My first glimpse of Spencer Prinz was from quite a distance when you called to him that he'd forgot the W-4 forms.
And offered to walk him to his car.
A few days later when my curiosity about Spencer Prinz grew this time it was you, Richard, who dressed up as Spencer.
J.
K.
tried to stop Spencer before he drove back to St.
Louis.
But as usual, we were all a few steps behind.
And as usual, either you or your partner were vouching for him.
The catch was that no one ever saw all three of you together.
There's something wrong, Jessica.
J.
K.
escorted you to the concert, the night that Nolan was killed.
So he couldn't have killed Nolan.
Yet he confessed the murder to us that night in our office.
Yes, but when he confessed, he didn't know that he would be double-crossed.
Lieutenant, you can't take any of this seriously.
That's where you're wrong.
I buy it and I think the D.
A.
will too.
Would you like to call your lawyer now? Or maybe you'd like to tell us how it happened.
He might go easier on you.
Damn it.
We were so close.
Only J.
K.
and I knew the real Spencer Prinz, who was about to transfer from Chicago to St.
Louis a year ago.
A week before he was due to arrive, he died of a heart attack.
That's when we hatched the scheme to steal the tax deposits by keeping Spencer alive.
When the fiscal year was up, Spencer would disappear with no trace taking with him all the blame.
- And two million dollars.
- Okay, - but why did you have to kill Nolan.
- J.
K.
got greedy.
He forged a $200,00 payroll check to Nolan who and cashed it to himself.
I figured it would take the IRS forever to catch up with the problems It didn't.
Nolan was desperate for answers.
So after getting the runaround from Spencer Prinz by phone, he came to our office to see Spencer in person.
One of the secretaries must have told him Prinz just left.
Nolan tried to catch up to him.
J.
K.
was taking his turn as Spencer.
Getting into the rental car to pretend to drive back to St.
Louis, His wig was accidentally knocked loose.
As he replaced it, he didn't see Nolan staring at him.
Observing the metamorphosis.
Nolan turned and ran back inside.
That's when he made his fatal mistake.
He came directly to me and said, "No wonder Edna was having problems, never mind two sets of books, her company has two sets of employees.
" - We had to act quickly.
- Of course.
And since Nolan was making waves for Edna, why not frame her for the murder.
We set up the bogus telephone message leaving Edna without an alibi.
I went to her house, entered through a rear window, and took the gun we all new she kept in her drawer.
I drove out to Nolan's farm.
I called in to him.
He came out.
Surprised to see me.
I shot him.
Put his body in the car.
Drove to the tracks, took out the jack, made it all look like a flat tire and robbery.
I returned the gun to your house while you were with the police.
Once Mrs.
Fletcher got you off the hot seat, and became suspicious of Spencer Prinz we shifted the blame from embezzlement and murder, to the perfect fall guy.
The man who didn't exist.
We came close.
The IRS has billions.
Edna has millions.
J.
K.
and me, we just wanted a piece of the pie.