Murder, She Wrote s11e15 Episode Script

(COMPUTER BEEPING) (CAR ENGINE STARTS) (TRUCK HORN BLARING) According to a spokesman, Suffolk Air Flight 17, bound for Montauk, crashed into Long Island Sound shortly after takeoff.
There were no survivors.
Among the passengers, Nobel Prize-winning biophysicist, Dr.
Max Franklin.
A PhD at 15, brilliant, unpredictable.
Franklin is believed to be working on a breakthrough cancer drug known as L-214.
Early in his career, Franklin worked in the European (PHONE RINGING) Liz, it's Jessica.
(SOBBING) Oh, my God, Jessica.
It's just too awful to comprehend.
Look, why don't we postpone our meeting this afternoon? Thanks, but if it's all the same, let's go ahead with it anyway.
I need something to take my mind off of it and it's probably gonna be pretty quiet around here.
Well, then I will see you at 1:00.
Bye.
(SIGHS) From the scene, Nobel Prize-winner Max Franklin, dead at the age of 53.
GRUNDBERG: Mr.
Gable.
Will Dr.
Franklin's death impact the research on the anti-cancer drug he was developing? The one bright spot in this horrible tragedy, Mr.
Gable, is that Dr.
Franklin had completed work on his vaccine, code name L-214, only hours before his tragic accident.
FEMALE REPORTER: So you're also saying that Dr.
Franklin's death will have little or no negative effect on your new stock offering? Well, perhaps our underwriter, Richard Ellston, should answer that.
Uh, there'll be no effect whatever.
The issue is almost fully subscribed already.
The market knows good value.
Hmm.
Thank you all.
(REPORTERS CHATTERING) (CLEARING THROAT) You're sure everything is okay? My God, Richard, don't you think I'd tell you if it wasn't? Richard, I plan to issue bi-weekly press reports during the trial period.
No one's gonna forget what Biomec has on its hands with the L-214.
Max mentioned that he and Fredrick had had some differences.
Ms.
White, this came for you.
Thank you, Jim.
That's putting it mildly.
Besides which, Dr.
Fredrick Grundberg stands to make more money than he ever dreamed of off Max's work.
Will you excuse me a minute, Jessica? Yeah.
Of course.
(SIGHS) Oh, I'm sorry.
My fault, ma'am.
All I'm asking is a few days to run the enzyme screens and x-ray diffractions Max wanted.
I mean, what's the harm in that? I'll tell you the harm.
We run those tests, even internally, under tight security, and it will immediately be public knowledge that we've got problems, doubts.
Well, Fredrick, that is hardly my concern.
It wasn't Max's either.
Stuart, you ran backup on the early tests.
Did you find any of these alleged "glitches" that got Max all worked up? No, I didn't.
There you go.
Look, whatever it was Max was worried about, it will show up in the clinical trials.
With all respect, Dr.
Grundberg, that is not necessarily the case.
The possible side effects that Max was concerned with on bone marrow and the pituitary, they might not show up for years.
Liz and Stuart, I promise you L-214 won't go on the market if it is in any way defective, all right? Well, there's some good news at least.
Ted Hartley called this morning.
He likes my first two chapters.
And so he should.
I mean, you have managed to put microbiology into layman's terms and make it dramatic besides.
I mean, it's starting to read like a first-rate mystery.
Well, thanks to your notes.
I've marked up chapters three and four.
There are a couple of points that I'd like to talk to you about later.
I, uh I have to go through Max's townhouse in Manhattan.
You know, clean up some papers and things, but, Jessica, I (SIGHS) I just don't know if I can face it.
And it won't be any easier next week or next month.
I suppose.
You know, I'm just beginning to realize how much of my motivation came from Max, how I had this need to prove myself to him.
Not so.
I don't think Max felt you needed to prove anything.
Jessica, Liz.
David.
Face it, Liz.
I think that was Max's problem.
He couldn't let go.
David, you Jessica, I'm sorry.
She was so smart to finally end it with him.
He never really gave a damn about her.
Never? I happen to know that you're wrong about that, David.
GRUNDBERG: Now you're saying Max switched the cultures? It looks the same and it's labeled "L-214 group B culture," but all it is, is common measles virus.
I've turned the lab inside out.
He must've taken the petrie dish with him, the one with the real L-214 culture.
And now it's at the bottom of Long Island Sound.
There's no way we can start the clinical trials now.
We haven't got a sufficient supply of the serum.
So you grow some more cultures, right? Isn't that the way they do it? Yeah.
It'll take months at best.
If Ellston or the street gets wind of this, all this will be gone.
It gets worse.
I checked Max's computer, he wiped out all his files on L-214.
Plus what we had on our network.
All right, David, I want you to get started immediately replacing those cultures.
We'll just have to do the best we can to replicate Max's documentation.
And in the meantime, Walter, I want you to go Excuse me, Fredrick, but I'm not sure I'm your man.
That's nonsense.
And since Max was having doubts about the efficacy of David! You're very close to a breakthrough on your malarial synthesis.
We've never turned you down on staff, equipment or facilities.
Are you willing to throw all that away over an issue which at best is highly questionable? Search Max's townhouse.
There's a chance he may have taken the stuff home with him and that it was not all lost in that plane crash.
I'll get back to you on that.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING) ELLSTON: Are you telling me that Max took all the cultures down with him? Why didn't you tell me this before? Rich, I only just found out about it myself.
Give Fredrick a little credit.
He's doing his best to keep a lid on it.
And keep it from me.
Can you blame him? If you pull the plug on the stock offerings, that's, what? Five million in stock options Fredrick'll never see.
Are you sure that that's the whole truth? That Dr.
Franklin took the L-214 cultures because he didn't feel he was being paid enough? That's it.
Look, he was a brilliant, unpredictable crank.
And now, not that I haven't been enjoying the extra money, but when the dust settles on this, the fact that Fredrick kept you out of the loop will mean another rip in his golden parachute, won't it? (CHUCKLES) Priscilla, the first thing I look for in executive management is the aptitude for knowing exactly where one wants to land.
A gift you seem to have in abundance.
I have others.
I rather suspect it.
Now remember, I want to hear from you if there's even a glimmer that this stuff isn't what it's cracked up to be.
I won't let you down, Richard.
MAN: What are you, the only guy on the street? MAN 2: Hey, lady, I'm walking here! MAN 3: Nobody has any consideration anymore! Max? (HORN BLARING) Max! "1Z76.
" JESSICA ON PHONE: Artie, I believe that cabbie can lead me to Max Franklin.
"1Z76.
" Got it, Jessica.
I'll put it right into work.
If it is Franklin, what do you think his game is? The old running-from-the-wife dodge? Rizzoli! No, he's not married.
Just keep this in mind, he may not be too thrilled to see you.
Yeah, Rizzoli, run this taxicab tag.
Time and location he picked up and dropped off his fares in the last hour.
And fast, too, okay? I'm gonna put you on the speaker phone, Jessica, do you mind? Listen, I was gonna call you.
Do you know a good portrait photographer? Oh, you mean for your grandson? Nah.
I was elected to my high school hall of fame over in Brooklyn, and Doris wants me to have a nice picture.
But not too pricey.
Well, there is a photographer over on West 49th Street, near Broadway.
O'Gorman, I think his name is.
He does head shots for actors.
O'Gorman.
That's perfect.
Listen, I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything about your friend in the taxicab.
If you're right and it's him, it ought to be quite a story.
Good afternoon.
May I help you? (CHUCKLING) Well, maybe you can.
I was supposed to meet a gentleman here.
He's one of your guests.
He's a sales representative from our Albany office.
Well, I had his name written on a memo someplace and I seem to have mislaid it.
You're welcome to call your office.
Well, I already did.
But the person who gave it to me is on a plane to Memphis.
Now, I met this man once Ma'am, we've got 250 rooms, and I just cannot remember all of our guests.
Well, he must've checked in about an hour ago.
He would've been medium height, about fifty-ish, you know, salt and pepper hair.
Uh Wait a minute, wait a minute, I think I might have your man.
How about Daniel Weldon, does that ring a bell? That's it! Daniel Weldon! Oh, thank you so much! You're very welcome.
The house phones are right over there.
Oh, fine.
(PHONE RINGING) Front desk.
May I help you, please? (GASPS) Max? I'm sorry, Jess.
Who is he? JESSICA: It's no coincidence he's here.
I think his name is Pell.
He was at Biomec yesterday morning.
He seems to know Dr.
Fredrick Grundberg.
That's interesting.
I was returning to my room a few minutes ago and I saw him letting himself in.
We need to go someplace where we can talk.
Max, that has to be the understatement of the decade.
Jessica, this, I suspect, is mainly what Mr.
Pell was after.
The cultures for the L-214 vaccine.
You know, I first spotted Pell two weeks ago, when I was up in Boston.
Anyway, I was on my way to Montauk to hole up for a few days, but seeing him following me, I decided not to take that plane.
So he inadvertently saved your life.
You could say that.
When I heard about the crash, and I was supposed to be dead, I figured, "Okay, I'll take advantage of it.
" I know it's been a cruel thing to do to my friends, but Well, Liz has taken it particularly hard.
She'll get over it.
Here it is.
"Walter Pell Investigative Services.
" Figures.
He's liable to look for me here.
Look, Jessica, please don't tell anyone you've seen me.
That includes your police friend that helped you find me.
If you insist.
I promise I'll explain it all in a day or two.
Another eight or ten hours is really all I need.
That and my journal, which I must retrieve from my townhouse.
Max, wait.
Are you sure it's a good idea for you to go back to your own place? I mean, it's possible that whoever Pell is working for may have decided to do something else besides just keeping an eye on you.
Walter Pell has known for at least two hours that you're alive, but there's been nothing about it on the news.
You're right.
But I must get my hands on those notes.
Well, give me the key.
I'll get your journal for you.
And put you at risk? Forget it.
No way.
Listen, worst case, if they stop me, I'll simply make something up.
(CHUCKLES) Besides, if you really need it, you have no choice.
(SIGHS) (CHUCKLES) It's in my study, second drawer on my desk, a red cover.
I will contact you.
Oh, while you're there, you think you could feed Harry? Harry, your cat? Of course.
Take care, Max.
Jess, that's what this is all about.
Try to get it through your head, Liz.
If I don't grow the damned cultures, they're gonna find someone else to do it.
Maybe this way I can find the answers Max was after.
How're you holding up? Fair.
Listen, I apologize for being such a drag yesterday.
It's okay.
You were right.
I mean, about Max obsessing over things and people.
Whoa.
Well, I loved him, but I guess I just outgrew it and I didn't have the heart to walk out on him these past few weeks when he needed me so badly.
Listen, I could probably knock off in about 45 minutes or so STUART: She's busy, David.
And in view of the gravity of our situation, the time factor, I hardly think Fredrick would approve of you quitting that early.
Catch you some other time.
Oh, ever the little opportunist, aren't we? Stuart, I don't know what you're talking about.
In politics, I think they refer to it as "spin.
" Not that I care what sort of impression you want to create about you and Max Stuart, that is so unbelievably Oh, what? Tacky? Vulgar? Okay, but you might consider this.
I've just heard on the news that they've recovered the wreckage of that commuter plane in Jamaica Bay and so far they've only found five bodies.
The pilot, the co-pilot and three female passengers.
I don't understand.
Oh, I'm not sure I do, but there has been a great deal of frantic whispering between Fredrick and Priscilla.
MALE REPORTER: A six-unit complex on the Westside was threatened today when an unexplained explosion and fire ripped through the apartment of Nobelist Max Franklin, victim of Tuesday's tragic air crash.
So, you never got inside? No, it was on fire when I got there.
And then the Fletcher woman showed up.
I doubt if it was a social call.
Max had to have sent her to get something.
But no trace of him? Not yet, but soon.
I got into the basement of her building into the phone circuits.
Put a tape recorder on her line.
He'll call her and I'll nail him.
A few hours tops, and we'll have all your files and cultures back.
So what're you doing in my office? Well, I called you a couple of times, but you were out.
I got curious.
I noticed you crossed out your meetings for the past two hours.
My appointments cancelled.
I heard about the fire on my car radio.
Yeah, I can buy that.
Good.
Now, we still have our loose cannon out there.
I suggest you defuse him fast.
MAX: Thank heaven this survived.
Well, luckily I knew the Fire Captain and he found it for me.
You're probably right, that it'll turn out to be arson.
(SIGHS) The question is who? And why? Well, the "who" seems obvious, that Pell character.
And why? To destroy anything there that might be useful to me or potentially damaging to Biomec.
Or because someone now really wants you dead.
(SIGHS) You know, Max, I'd feel a lot better going to the police and putting you into protective custody.
Oh, thanks, Jess, but that'd take too much time.
Besides, I'm holed up where no one'll ever find me.
I'll be in touch in a few hours.
I promise.
Okay.
(ELEVATOR BELL DINGING) He looked fine, Liz.
He was harried, of course, but (PHONE RINGING) Oh, excuse me.
Yes? (INDISTINCT CHATTERING O VER PHONE) Really? Thank you, Captain Barnhart.
The Fire Captain.
It was a fire bomb.
Accidentally triggered by Max's cat.
Somebody was trying to kill Max? It certainly looks that way.
Which means that whoever it was still wants him dead.
Jessica, we have to reach him, let him know.
Didn't he tell you anything about where he'd be? Maybe he did.
If we can find out what was on the piece that he tore out of that page.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING) (SOFTLY) Max? Max, it's Jessica and Liz.
LIZ: Oh, my God, Max! (CAMERA CLICKING) (INDISTINCT CHATTERING) Looks like he was clocked with this.
Your basic weapon of opportunity.
Bag it.
Forensics, ASAP.
Yes, sir.
(SCOFFS) First time around he gets everyone thinking he's dead, and now the real thing.
Probably a lesson in there someplace, if I had the time and a poetic inclination.
Artie, that ashtray, that would indicate that it wasn't premeditated.
But obviously somebody was trying to kill him.
The booby-trap in the house, that I can accept, but, Jessica, face it, this neighborhood, they got more junkies per square block than they got cockroaches.
Ms.
White, you said that you and the victim were close? Yes, we had been.
For several years.
Ah, till when? I'd broken it off with him a few weeks ago.
I mean, I still cared about him, but, well Max really lived for his work.
Right.
Well, like I said, Jessica, some crackhead who's also dumb enough to smoke Conquest Unfiltereds.
We found this butt in the corridor, near the door.
Okay.
He gets the victim to open up to give him a handout, the guy spots the laptop computer, which he can turn into ready cash for his next fix, and bingo, we got the eighth, no, the ninth murder this month with the same MO.
Oh, yeah, and that missing petrie dish, I don't figure that for a biggie.
Our perp probably just grabbed it along with the computer.
Mmm-hmm.
And the journal? Well, maybe Franklin was done with it and dumped it.
Artie Oh.
I've gotta get to the photographer.
Listen, I'll call you both about your statements.
Does my hair look okay? Perfect.
Artie, what I wanted to say is, that a private investigator was surveilling Max's activities.
It might interest you to know that he smoked the same brand of cigarette as that.
It might.
Guy got a name? Oh, come on! I'm not 12 years old.
What the hell was a Nobel Prize-winning scientist doing holed up in a crummy rental pretending he's dead? The police think it might've been a romantic liaison.
My own theory is that he may have been in touch with a rival pharmaceutical house and that he was meeting there clandestinely at that place.
Whatever the problem was, Richard, it's gone away.
And you're sure Walter Pell didn't make it happen? How do you know about Pell? Just answer the question, Fredrick.
I'm already getting anxious calls from brokerage houses handling the stock.
If it turns out you had him killed Oh, for God's sake! Do you really think I'm that crazy? You're damned straight, I do.
Now, what else haven't you been telling me, Fredrick? Nothing, Richard.
I swear.
(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES) Mrs.
Fletcher, get out of my life, okay? Thanks to you, I spent four hours being questioned by the police.
Mr.
Pell, as an ex-police officer you know that I wouldn't have been doing my civic duty had I withheld information from Lieutenant Gelber.
How'd you know I was a cop? I have some friends in the NYPD.
Okay.
You got maybe 30 seconds.
That was your cigarette butt.
After you met up with Franklin and gave him his book, I followed him downtown.
He went into the apartment building, I waited a few minutes, then went inside.
His door was open, Franklin was dead.
Time's up.
One more question.
Why did Mr.
Fredrick Grundberg have you following him? That's his business.
(CHUCKLES) Thank you, Mr.
Pell.
I wasn't sure that was who you were working for.
(PEOPLE CHATTERING) LIZ: Dr.
Grundberg swore us all to secrecy, Jessica, about Max's concerns over the effectiveness of L-214, and he promised that he would carry out all the tests that Max had started.
On top of that, I guess, I just didn't think that the vaccine was all that relevant to Max's murder.
Thank you for forcing us to air our soiled laundry, Mrs.
Fletcher.
Well, I seem to have gored more than my share of oxen today.
It started out to be in the interest of finding out who killed Max Franklin, but now that I know what he was so concerned about, it may well be in the public interest as well.
At a cost of God knows how many millions of dollars, and the loss of a potential wonder drug.
Or a potential killer.
Jessica, Ms.
White.
Liz, good luck in there.
This, uh, Dr.
Fredrick Grundberg is a real sweetheart.
I may never take a pill again without wondering what's gonna happen to me in 10 years.
Your statements.
Oh, yeah.
You are one lucky lady, Jessica.
Someone rigged that bomb with a tripwire.
It could have been you who tripped it.
Oh, poor Harry.
Who? Oh, Max's cat.
Excuse me, Lieutenant.
We found this in a trash barrel a few blocks from the place that Franklin was murdered.
LIZ: That's Max's laptop.
It certainly looks like it.
Any prints? Negative.
I had the nerds go over and see if they could find anything on the hard drive, but somebody wiped it clean.
Well, there are ways of retrieving deleted files.
They've got all the software downstairs, ma'am.
They figure someone knew how to permanently total the disk.
You bucking for stripes, Rizzoli? Sir? (CHUCKLING) That'll be all.
(EXCLAIMS) I know what you're gonna say, Jessica.
A pretty hip junkie.
Something like that, yes.
Well, this throws us right back to Fredrick Grundberg, Richard Ellston, several thousand investors, and everybody and his brother at Biomec.
Maybe my next customer will be able to throw some light on it.
Mr.
Himes, your turn.
Liz, Jessica.
What kind of questions are they asking? Just tell him the truth, Stuart.
They know about the cover-up? All of it, Stuart.
Well, thank heaven.
Liz, you okay? About as okay as you can be when a man that you loved dies twice Liz, what is it? I just realized there's a chance I may have some of the answers to this in my desk.
Right after the press conference, I got a piece of inter-office mail.
Yes.
I remember.
It was from Max.
I was so upset, I couldn't bear to open it and see what was inside.
But later, I glanced at it.
It was a computer diskette and a note from Max asking me to keep it safe for him.
I locked it away and then there was the fire.
LIZ: Whoa.
With all that's been happening I was afraid this may not be here.
JESSICA: Well, that wouldn't have been terribly surprising.
All right, let's see what we've got.
(TYPING) Statistics I was hoping that there'd be a message of some sort.
It could be just that, Liz.
Might "SH" stand for Stuart Himes? Didn't you say he'd been running tests for Max? DAVID: Hmm, you're right, Jessica.
Tests on L-214's possible long-term effects on bone marrow.
Yes, back in July.
DAVID: It's two versions of Stuart's tests.
One dated the 12th and one dated two days later.
I think he gave Max the second one.
Sure, and Max found the first one and compared them.
DAVID: What it looks like is, Stuart was falsifying the results.
STUART: Time out, David.
Oh, come on, guys.
You look like this is the first time in this hallowed business of magical panaceas and healthy-ever-afters that anyone's ever doctored a few figures.
A few? Max was fretting about side effects that might show up five to ten years down the line.
I figured by then, if there are any, there'll be a cure.
And meanwhile, thousands of lives will be saved by L-214.
Maybe.
You killed him, didn't you? You creep, you dirty, rotten Ah, here you all are.
Especially you, Mr.
Himes.
I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Dr.
Max Franklin.
Lieutenant, we covered all that this afternoon.
Except your alibi turned out to be smoke.
As a matter of fact, a little while ago we paid a visit to your basement out in Northport.
We found the ingredients that went into that lethal contraption you put together in Franklin's brownstone.
His cat blew that one for you, but you sure did a job of it the second time around.
I'm not gonna say anything more.
Good thinking.
Jessica, everyone, thanks for your help.
JESSICA: I think you're wrong.
Artie, I mean, you have to admit that fear of exposure for tampering with those test results is a pretty weak motive for murder.
Especially when you consider that I know, I know.
It is almost impossible to prove he's the one who actually changed the numbers.
But what I'm trying to say, Jessica, is we've got the motive.
You do? And it doesn't have to get any prettier than this.
Himes begged, borrowed and mortgaged every penny he could get his hands on, almost two million bucks.
And invested it all in the new Biomec stock offering.
You got it.
Himes had to make the L-214 fly, no matter what.
It explains why he trashed Franklin's computer, the whole shot.
But how could he have found the apartment where Max was hiding? Hey, you found it.
The PI found it.
Maybe Max called him and told him.
Yeah.
But I don't recall seeing a phone in that apartment.
So he called from a booth.
It'll come out in the trial.
Main thing is, I've got a lot more than I need and a pile of cases waiting their turn.
Artie, you're right.
Max did call his killer.
But I don't think it was from a pay-phone, it was from right there in the apartment from his cellular phone.
I don't remember any cellular.
Nope! No cell phone.
Well, that's because the killer took it.
Until just now I'd forgotten I'd seen it in his briefcase.
Artie, if you can locate Max's cellular phone carrier, I have a feeling that you'll find that one of his last phone calls was to or from the murderer.
Right.
I'll call you.
I'm truly sorry you feel I misled you, but Misled? You miserable, lying (CHUCKLING) How about bilked, scammed, swindled? (LAUGHS) I'm out twenty million dollars, my reputation is in ruins, my business (SIGHING) I heard about that.
But, Richard, if there's anything I can do.
I'll do you! I'm gonna take you down with me! I'm going to keep you in courts defending lawsuits till you're too old to stand! And that goes for you, too! We are very disappointed that you feel this way, but the fact is, we were both totally in the dark about this entire mess.
Now, if you'll excuse me, we've got a very full schedule.
(SIGHS) You're going to deny you knew L-214 was flawed.
Richard, Max Franklin victimized us, too, by keeping his doubts about the vaccine to himself.
And I don't think there's a court in the land that would've found otherwise.
And because we have a duty to the public and to medical prudence, we've withdrawn L-214 from FDA consideration despite the costs to Biomec.
And your losses? Actually, they were gains.
You see, Priscilla had this premonition.
Something told me things weren't right so I suggested to Fredrick that we put all the stock we'd subscribed for up for sale prior to its official issue.
Here you go, Lieutenant.
Okay, so we know that Max took a call on his cellular phone about a half hour before he was killed, but it was from a pay phone.
It could be anybody.
Meanwhile, we found Himes's prints in one of the few unburned areas at Franklin's brownstone.
(SIGHING) Well, Stuart had visited there socially.
I'm sure you could've found my prints there, too.
We did.
Anyway, I just ran the goods we got on Himes past the Assistant DA.
She was on the other side of hog heaven.
Said she wished they were all that solid.
Now, listen, Jessica, which one of these do you like the best? Oh, that one, definitely.
(CHUCKLING) Really? I kinda thought that That this one made me look a little bit, you know, like Robert Redford! (CHUCKLES) Well, um Jessica, what? It did bend, it was paper.
What bend? What paper? Artie, I think I know who killed Max Franklin and I think I know why.
(TYPING) (BEEPS) (DOOR OPENING) Yes? Is someone there? What are you doing at Max's computer? I was, uh I was, uh, taking a break.
Running some diagnostics to see if we could get some use out of it.
Hmm.
Then by moving that section up into chapter one Of course, it sets the reader up for what's to come.
(CHUCKLES) Jessica, that's brilliant.
(PHONE RINGING) It's an old fiction writer's device called foreshadowing.
Laying in a hint of what's going to happen, then the trick is to surprise them with a twist that they don't expect.
(LAUGHS) Hello? Really? David Randall has come up with a way to salvage the files off Max's computer at Biomec.
The one Max trashed.
Well, when will he have it all? Well, thanks, Artie.
And keep me posted, will you? Hmm.
Apparently David's written some sort of program that's slowly restoring them.
What's interesting is that so far what he's finding is pointing directly at Priscilla Lake.
You're kidding.
They don't expect anything conclusive till tomorrow, and even then, it may be a false alarm.
Now, this note on page 27, I'm not quite sure what you meant.
(CHUCKLING) Oh, I hope I can remember.
(LAUGHING) Not as much as I do! (BEEPING) (RUSTLING) Wow, you really are the night owl, aren't you? I'm kinda busy, Liz.
I heard.
David, I need to get at that computer.
There's something that I've got to find.
JESSICA: That won't be necessary, Liz.
Sadly, by coming here tonight, you've admitted that you murdered Max.
(SCOFFS) Jessica! That doesn't make sense.
I I could hardly wait to see what David had found, that's all.
What you could hardly wait to do was to get over here and destroy the file that would show your motive for murdering him.
The file containing the letter that Max wrote, breaking off his relationship with you.
Jessica, you've got it backwards.
I dumped Max weeks ago.
So you said, and made sure that several other people heard you.
But the truth is, that's the letter that was delivered to you via inter-office mail the morning of the press conference when it appeared that Max had died in the airplane crash.
It was the computer disk with Stuart's test data.
No.
When I was in Lieutenant Gelber's office today, I saw an envelope marked, "Do not bend.
" It reminded me that I'd seen you receive it.
I recognized Max's handwriting and thought it didn't seem significant at the time.
I could tell by the way that you bent the envelope, it had to have contained something pliable like paper, not a rigid diskette.
Yet, earlier today, when you suddenly "remembered" the diskette Max had supposedly sent you, you took it out of that same envelope.
Jessica, you've made one really humungous mistake here.
You know that I wouldn't kill Max! I loved the guy! Okay, so, I had to ARTIE: Ms.
White.
Sad as it is, Mrs.
Fletcher's on the money.
Mind coming downtown? (EXHALES) (SIGHS) So tonight, at your place, that phone call about David and Max's computer That was all a set-up, Liz.
Hers.
When Lieutenant Gelber and his people searched your apartment and were unable to locate the note Max sent you in that envelope, I felt that we had to take a chance, that my hunch was right.
It was.
We found this in your car.
Sort of a classic, "Dear Liz.
" JESSICA: A computer generated letter.
Sweet, isn't it? He didn't just throw me over the side.
Oh, no, he sent me all the way to the bottom.
Well, when he turned up alive, I couldn't think of anything except making sure that he'd die and stay dead.
Because you'd been working with him, you knew that he'd need his journal.
I figured he'd go to the brownstone to get it.
So you rigged the fire bomb and planted the materials in Stuart Himes' basement.
And when that failed to do the trick, you called Max on his cellular phone.
I told him I didn't blame him, that he was right, that I had been too pushy, too self-involved.
I convinced him I was just worried about his safety.
All I wanted to do was to help him finish the analysis he was running so he could come out of hiding and get some protection.
(INDISTINCT) LIZ: He agreed to let me come to the apartment.
He dismissed me in so many words.
And then he started to assign chores for me to do, like nothing had changed! I spotted the heavy ashtray JESSICA: And along with everything else, you took the diskette with the fake test results.
Four years of my life.
I gave the man everything.
Sacrificed my career, submerged my own goals to help him with his L-214.
The damned tedious obsession of his.
All I wanted in return was a commitment.
That's all.
And in local news, a grand jury has just handed down indictments against Biomec CEO Fredrick Grundberg and Priscilla Lake, charging each with a dozen counts of conspiracy to defraud.
There is a God.
Artie, is that your photo for your high school? Yeah.
Listen, uh, now that your friend Max's suspicions about this L-214 have been confirmed, what happens? Well, David Randall claims that it'll take him three or four years to know if it can be fixed or not.
Apparently, Max left quite a roadmap.
And I hear that David's gonna do the driving.
Yes.
Richard Ellston has put him in charge of research.
Nice.
Artie? Oh, I went with the one you picked.
Oh, listen Jessica, I gotta get over to the store.
Henderson's coming back tomorrow, and I have a ton of paperwork to get ready for him.
The picture.
(CHUCKLING) This is I had them do a little, you know, re-touching.
Look, it's no sin to want to look as good as you can.
You, uh, you've gotta promise not to laugh.
On my honor.
Artie, it's lovely.
You're sure it isn't too much? Absolutely! You sure? (LAUGHS)