Chuck Houston was the kind of man who wore his medals on the inside
as well as the outside.
Chuck was shot 178 times
in the movies.
But it was in World War II
that Chuck became a real hero.
He was a real star.
He was wounded when, without regard for personal safety,
he heroically thrust himself between an exploding grenade
and his platoon,
and, uh...
saved most of their lives.
This was in the South Pacific, earning him the Purple Heart.
- You're 93 seconds too long. - Oh, damn!
- We'll fix it. - You run a tight funeral.
Well, the service ends at 12:15, we close casket,
and if you can cut 93 seconds from your tribute, we'll be home free.
I'll work on it. Tomorrow is another day.
- Goodbye, Mr Prince. - Thank you, Fred. Good night.
- I like the display, Gerald. Thank you. - Thank you, sir.
Line two, Verity Chandler. It's on hold.
- Rita, Gerald, you can go. I'll lock up. - Good night.
- Good night, Mr Prince. - Good night.
Verity, darling, did you get my message about the Houston funeral?
I always get the message, lover.
Eric, we have to have a private chat, just the two of us.
- Strictly personal. - A chat? What about?
There will be a funeral service, of course, as always,
but we'll have one in private, all right? Just before.
Just the two of us.
"Hollywood Heartbeat", Sunday Promo, G102.
Verity, what juicy titbits do you have on "Hollywood Heartbeat" this weekend?
- What's new? - A story that will rattle a few skeletons.
Watch this Sunday for grisly undertakings on Sunset Boulevard.
And if you've got gossip, remember, you can email me at:
Vicious_rumors_@ hollywood_heartbeat. com
Roger, darling, it's me at 11:30.
The liquor store just delivered the booze for the Sunday party.
Listen, email me that revised guest list as soon as possible.
Now, page me.
All right.
The Haverland Prince Funeral Home.
Suzanne. You meant a great deal to Chuck.
- How are you bearing up, Mrs Houston? - Oh, Mr Prince. Would you excuse me?
- I'd like to ask you a favour. - Yes.
- Could you sit with me in the first row? - You may sit with anyone you choose.
Please sit with me. You have been such a comfort.
It'll be my pleasure.
Oh, my, look at the red death.
Excuse me, sir. Your attorney is here to speak to you about something urgent.
Mm-hm.
- Don't forget, service starts at noon. - Yes, sir.
Eric. I'm sorry, but the purchase agreement has to be signed today.
Not to worry, Henry. I have it ready for you. Shall we take the short cut?
My chamber of horrors. Look, but don't touch.
It's on my desk. Here we are, signed and delivered.
You're now the proud owner of your 24th funeral home. Congratulations.
I think we should also congratulate my dear old friend Mr Haverland.
- He would be proud of his protégé. - Yes.
- I really must be going. - You'd like to go the way of the living.
- If you don't mind. - It's always a pleasure, Henry.
- If you have any problems, call me. - Absolutely. Bye-bye for now.
Oh, hi, babe!
- Verity. - You left your door unlocked. Unlike you.
I thought you'd gone.
I checked the parking lot. Your car wasn't there.
No. Well, it's in for service. I had a taxi drop me today.
Maybe you can take me home when this is over, just like old times.
Nice joke, darling, but I only have a minute. What do you want?
I want your advice on a story I'm working on for Sunday night's broadcast.
It's about a once-handsome, never-was actor from England,
didn't make it here either, who gets a job in a Hollywood mortuary.
The mortician takes a liking to him and the actor becomes a mortician himself,
only our boy undertaker gets greedy.
He realises morticians can get to the bodies before anyone else,
can find telltale traces of homosexuality, affairs, drugs.
So he begins selling his information to a television reporter,
who also becomes his oh-so-secret lover, until he unceremoniously dumps her.
- That's old news. - Oh, this is even older.
- I shot this just a few days ago. - It's the Dorothea Page mansion.
I knew you'd recognise it. Just as I know you'll remember
what was around Dorothea's neck when her body arrived here some years ago.
Eric, what ratings do you think I'll get for a story about a Hollywood mortician
who steals a diamond necklace from a dead movie queen
so he can buy into a fancy mortuary?
- Sounds fascinating. - Doesn't it?
I'm hot on your trail and getting warmer by the minute.
I know your games. You're telling me this so that I'll dig up dirt for you again.
Darling, no! You're not listening. This isn't blackmail.
I'm broadcasting this Sunday night at eight, live.
I'm even having a party at my house to celebrate.
This is my big surprise scoop of the year. Haven't told a soul.
- I wanted you to be the first to know. - Thank you.
You're going to lose everything.
Eric Prince - you used to be every widow's bedroom pet.
I only came by to make sure you tune in Sunday night,
but it was worth it just to see that knot in your gut.
Imagine this projected behind me...
with the headlines, "Grisly undertakings on Sunset Boulevard".
Hm?
You burned me once, baby. Now I'm going to burn you.
Mr Prince?
Miss Rita, are the flower arrangements all right?
- Mr Prince is delighted. Thank you, Hugo. - I'm happy. Thank you.
- Oh, it's getting close. - I was just checking the new equipment.
Just lead on, would you?
Chuck Houston was the kind of man
who wore his medals on the inside
as well as the outside.
Chuck was shot 178 times...
"Grisly undertakings on Sunset Boulevard".
You burned me once, baby.
Now I'm going to burn you.
...saved most of their lives.
This was in the South Pacific, earning him the Purple Heart.
May we always remember him.
I'll send one of our cars, have you here at four o'clock.
All will be ready. I shall take care of this personally.
Thank you.
Kathy, take care of your aunt, would you, please?
Oh, Kathy.
- Eric? - Here's your dear Chuck.
- Thank you. - And, of course, we mustn't forget this.
I see it. Stop. Just stop right here.
Is it all right to open the door?
Happy trails!
Verity.
My darling Verity.
Let's see what we have here.
'97.
Change to 8.
And...
where are you, Mr Prince?
There we are.
Mm-hm.
Bye-bye, Mr Prince.
And changed to...
Mm-hm.
Hmm.
Adios, Mr Prince. Hello, cocaine.
There we are. Change back.
Good.
I've come with my condolences.
Thank you, darling. I'll get the glasses.
Thank you.
I don't care what your procedures are, Sergeant. I've made a ton of phone calls.
Believe me, Verity Chandler has friends in high places
and nobody, I mean no one, knows what the hell happened to her. Really!
We have this party on Sunday. The whole thing's bloody impossible.
Sir, we're doing the best we can to locate Miss Chandler,
but as things stand it's a missing-persons case.
"Missing persons"? Really, Sergeant?
"Missing persons" is like being seated next to the kitchen.
I would like some serious action.
Where you going? Hey! What's up with you?
Hi, Sarge. Excuse me, I've gotta get this hound under control.
Are you gonna be good or are you gonna embarrass me in front of the sergeant?
Look at that. Will you look at that?
I was on my way to the vet's when you called.
This guy hasn't been feeling too good this week, kinda listless.
Look at him now. What's sparking you?
Thanks for stopping by. I know it's not a homicide,
but Mr Roger Gambles, the missing lady's secretary, is somewhat concerned.
You can say that again.
All right. OK. He'll be all right.
Uh... Oh, boy.
- Excuse me, what's this guy's name? - Oh, Roger Gambles.
Mr Gambler, glad to see you, sir. Sergeant Degarmo been treating you all right?
- Gambles. It's Roger Gambles. - Oh, sorry, sir.
You're a... you're a detective?
- Yes, I guess I am. - Uh-huh.
- Can you listen? - Oh, yes, sir.
The last time I heard from her...
Excuse me.
Yeah, he'll be all right. Yes, sir?
The last time I heard from her was...
From who?
From whom. My employer, Miss Verity Chandler.
The missing lady. The reason we're all here.
Last time I heard from her was yesterday morning about 11:30.
She's having a party on Sunday and asked me to email her the revised guest list.
I responded, she did not. I called her repeatedly, several times,
and all I got was the machine.
- When did you make these calls, sir? - It's on the tape, Lieutenant. I checked it.
- Three messages. 9:04pm. - Verity, it's Roger. Call me.
- 10:59pm. - Roger again. Where are you?
- 12:42am. - Verity, I'm starting to worry.
End of messages.
- That's it? - That's it.
- And you called the cops? - What do you think?
I showed up for work this morning, the door was wide open, I saw the hall.
- What did you think when you walked in? - Oh, I think you did the right thing, sir.
She comes home, comes in here,
pours herself a drink, off with the earrings, off with the shoes.
You see the shoes?
I got the shoes. Yes, Sergeant?
She sits down, starts to work the computer.
Doorbell rings.
She gets up to answer it, there's a struggle,
someone nabs her sometime after 8:40.
After 8:40? Why 8:40?
The computer, Detective. It's there. The last time she made an entry was 8:40pm.
Can you look at it?
I've already shown the sergeant.
Can you look at it?
Yes, I can.
I'll look at it.
"This reporter has been looking into a tangled web of crime
amid the young and ruthless in the snowy hills of Beverly."
"But the snow on those hills ain't sugar - it's cocaine."
Hm.
Thank you.
It seems like this drug story got her kidnapped.
- Can this be touched? - Go ahead, they've been dusted.
- Guy's finished. Everything's been done. - Yesterday was Thursday.
Today is October 6, '97.
"Twelve noon Houston fun."
Was she gonna have fun in Houston?
That's absurd. She went to the funeral of Chuck Houston, the old cowboy actor.
- The service was yesterday at noon. - Got that.
What's "PH SB"?
Phone someone? "PH" - phone, initials SB.
Sid somebody, Shirley somebody? Who knows?
Could be.
- What's this? - We've inventoried them.
11 pictures of a puppy.
11?
- My God! - What's the matter?
Louella. I forgot all about Louella.
Louella?
- Who's Louella? - Beats me.
Poor Louella. Slipped my mind completely.
Oh!
- This is what's sparking you. - Here, sweetie.
- Hold on, sweetheart. - Oh, it's just a pup. Look, he's shaking.
- Sergeant, get my dog. - Yes, sir.
Hold him.
Oh, look at this place. It's a mess here!
He's got no water! He's got nothing! Where is it?
- Where's what? - The food for the pup!
Sorry. It's in the fridge. She keeps it in the fridge.
Yeah.
- Where's the spoons? - The spoons? Over here. I'll get one.
Here you are, Lieutenant.
- Oh, it's chicken. That's good. - Yes, that's her evening treat.
That's good. They like that.
- What did you say? - Uh, her evening treat.
Excuse me.
Can you guys make sure this dog is fed and has plenty of water?
- Of course. - And take him for a walk?
And who's gonna watch this dog while we're working on this case?
- Oh, I will. - Thank you.
You're going home, and, Sergeant, if you'd be kind enough to do me a favour,
I want copies of these. Take it to the lab.
Copies made from the negatives on the desk.
- Where was the funeral service? - Haverland Prince.
Haverland Prince... Haverland Prince... Haverland Prince...
Come in.
- Good morning, sir. - Ah, Rita.
- I was about to call your house. - I wasn't at my house, as a matter of fact.
- Who have we got? - Regarding Dan Riley.
The Motion Picture Home want to start the viewing one hour later.
- Another day, another body. - Also, there's a Mr Lerby.
Preplanned funeral. The deceased arranged it two years ago.
- Cause of death? - Gas boiler blew up.
- Ouch! Is there anything left of him? - Well, he's not the man he was.
- Mrs Lerby, the widow, will be here at ten. - So will I.
Mel Lerby was a jerk. A cheap, two-bit importer of knock-off Korean knitwear.
Our divorce was gonna be final in a week,
and if he'd waited seven days to kick it, I wouldn't have to be here doing this.
I don't want a service, I don't want flowers and I do not want a coffin.
Mrs Lerby, your husband requested a cremation.
There has to be a container. That's the law.
He was a 98lb weakling on his best day.
What you got in there now you could put in a shoebox!
- Uh, Mrs Lerby... - A suggestion, Rita.
We could cremate your husband today in one of our inexpensive cardboard boxes,
place his ashes in an urn that I hope you will like - it'll be ready tomorrow...
then arrange for our helicopter service to disperse the ashes over the ocean
at our expense, with my compliments.
- We're going to take good care of him. - Well, better you than me.
Interesting woman. I'll cremate Mr Lerby's remains myself as soon as they arrive.
They come in at three, but you'll have to wait before you put him in the oven.
- Why? - It's being repaired.
One of the gas jets blew yesterday when you cremated Mr Houston.
- Did it? How long will it take to fix? - Repairman said it could be all day.
- Tell me immediately when it's ready. - Yes, sir.
Oh, by the way, someone's waiting for you in the display room.
Thank you, Rita.
Morning, sir.
I just can't get my wife to discuss this stuff, but she should like this.
- Nice and soft... - May I?
I think you know the way out.
Oh, sir, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be smoking in a special place like this.
- I'm from the police. - Pardon?
- Lieutenant Columbo. - You're joking.
No, sir. No, I'm not.
There you go. Are you Haverland Prince?
I'm Prince. My partner, Arthur Haverland, died some years ago.
Oh. Well, Mr Prince, I'm looking into a missing-persons case - Verity Chandler.
- She was here yesterday. - Was she alone?
- As far as I know. - Where was she?
In the chapel. And I have to check it for the next service.
- Would you follow me? - Oh, I'd love to, sir.
The only person she spoke to was the widow, Mrs Houston. Then she left.
- Were you a friend of Miss Chandler's? - A tabloid reporter?
I keep my distance, but I do call her about VIP funerals.
The publicity's good and she's discreet.
As a matter of a fact, I called her about the Houston service. Would you excuse me?
That's coming along nicely, gentlemen.
So she was here and then she left. Yeah, OK.
- What kind of car was she driving? - I assume the usual one. A red Mercedes.
Uh-huh, red Mercedes.
Sir, this is Miss Chandler's datebook. Do you see the entry for yesterday's date?
"Houston fun PH - phone - SB".
Do you know anybody who was invited or who came to the funeral services
with the initials SB?
Uh, Sonny Bono, Sandra Bullock, Steven Boohoo.
Bono? Bullock? Boohoo?
Wow. Man, you really get the big ones!
The crème de la crème, sir. That's French.
- Do you know of Dan Riley? - The big dancer from the movies?
- Yeah, he died yesterday. 78 years old. - Oh, he was up there with the greats.
We're having the viewing later this afternoon and then the burial tomorrow.
- Oh. Gee whiz, that's funny. - What?
What you just said. You said you always call Miss Chandler regarding VIP funerals.
I was just at the Chandler house and we checked her answering machine.
There were only three messages since yesterday, all from her secretary.
No, sir, there was no message from you regarding Dan Riley's funeral.
- I must reprimand myself. - Well, don't worry about it, sir.
When you've got your mind on big things, goodness, you could forget anything.
Do you mind if I take one, sir? My wife and I gotta make a decision on this stuff.
With pleasure. And, of course, you'll both be welcome here...
when the time comes.
You got a good sense of humour.
Oh, sir, if that red Mercedes were here, would you know it was here?
No, I wouldn't, but my assistant would. Rita?
We keep a log of all vehicles that come for any bereavement.
Rita, this is Lieutenant Columbo. He needs the car list for the Houston affair.
- Would you give him any help you can? - Certainly, sir. Follow me, Lieutenant.
- Sir, this is a lovely place to go. - You got that right.
That's the complete list.
Oh, this is great. Thanks.
- Is Miss Chandler's car here? - Her Mercedes? No. We all know it.
- This was a taxi? - Yes, there was a taxi.
- Anything odd in her behaviour? - Well, she comes here all the time.
The last I saw of her, she was putting one of our brochures in her purse.
- What was that, ma'am? - She put our brochure in her purse.
I just got this to talk to the wife, but you said that she comes here all the time.
- Why would she want a brochure? - No idea. Oh, and she kissed the corpse.
- I'm sorry, ma'am? - She kissed Mr Houston's corpse.
Hollywood's a very "kissy" town. I even had to wipe her lipstick off his cheek.
- You did? With what? - My handkerchief.
- Do you have that handkerchief? - I was going to take it home and wash it.
Oh, here we go.
- Thank you, ma'am. - Will that be all?
I think so.
So what have we got?
Her earrings...
lipstick...
her shoes...
Be there.
It has to be there.
- Lieutenant! - In here, Sarge.
Lieutenant.
Well, you were right to order up those reprints.
There were 11 pictures of the puppy in that envelope,
but there were 12 exposures on the roll. This is the 12th.
- How did you know there'd be a 12th? - Cos of my brother-in-law.
Only buys film that comes in 12-shot rolls. He's always running out. Drives you nuts.
Well, I took the liberty of making some enlargements. They might be useful.
Oh. Well, that's using your head, sir.
Thank you, Sergeant. Yeah, that was a good idea.
- Take a load off. - Thanks, Lieutenant.
- Gee, this is a big place. Any ID on this? - Uh, no.
So we still never found the original of this photo?
No. Nowhere.
So why wasn't this photo with the other pho...
Photos.
PH.
- You drink too much. - I'm a widow. I'm in mourning.
Hello.
Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't return your call,
and actually I'm in the middle of a meeting right now
with the funeral director Mr Prince.
- He says hello. - Who is it?
Lieutenant Combo?
Columbo, yes. Say that I say hello too.
Oh. Well, he said to say hello too.
I'm afraid I'm not gonna be here. I have to go see my psychiatrist.
Well, I suppose I could.
All right, I'll see you there then.
My psychiatrist will have to wait, although he does love talking to me.
Well, bye-bye.
- Where is he? - Verity Chandler's house.
- He wants me to stop by. - Did he say why?
He wants to ask me some questions. Said he has a few little problems there.
I'll drive you.
Ah, Mrs Houston. Thank you for coming, ma'am.
I'm Lieutenant Columbo. May I offer my condolences?
No, thanks, I've had plenty.
I'm sorry, it's just the tension. I'm new at this widow stuff.
- And it's nice to see you again, sir. - Mrs Houston was too nervous to drive.
I'm escorting her today, if that's all right.
Very nice. Please come in.
- Careful here. - What happened?
We're not sure, ma'am. That's why I want to ask you a couple of questions.
I hate to do this to you, ma'am.
It's routine, you might say. Routine.
- Yes, to the usual suspects. - What has happened?
The questions that I want to ask you...
and we're gonna be asking everybody
that saw Miss Chandler yesterday the same questions...
and the question is where were you from about eight o'clock last night
until seven this morning? We'll start with you, sir. Were you at home?
As a matter of fact, I wasn't at home.
Not at home. Uh, could you elaborate on that, sir?
Well, Lieutenant, I'm a bachelor.
Shall we say that I spent the evening with a friend?
With a friend.
I hate to be indelicate, sir,
but for my investigation, it's important to know names...
- Facts and that sort of thing. - Specifics, yes.
- All right. All right. - Ma'am?
Mr Prince spent the evening with me at my house.
- With you, ma'am? - Yes.
- At your house? - Yes.
Uh-huh.
Yes, it's been a very vulnerable and difficult time for Mrs Houston.
She was prostrate with grief, and I felt it was necessary...
So Mr Prince came over to my house... and he gave me grief counselling.
Yes, I did.
So you counselled Mrs Houston right through till this morning?
Mm-hm.
Mr Prince came over shortly before eight o'clock and...
Well...
here we are.
Lieutenant, do you have a moment?
Excuse me, please, Liz.
Lieutenant?
Uh, the confidence that we've just shared I imagine will go no further.
Absolutely, sir. That is your business.
Thank you. I appreciate that very much. Yes.
Oh, ma'am! I have a question for you.
Would you all mind if I had a little shot of something?
All this... Well, it's given me the shakes.
Well, I'm sure if Miss Chandler were here, she'd be pleased to share them with you.
- Help yourself. - Thank you.
Just don't touch the Scotch.
Don't worry. Scotch is not my flavour. I prefer bourbon.
Did you say something about a question?
Yes, ma'am. You know, I'm a dog person and I can usually tell another dog person.
- And I bet you're a dog person. - Well, aren't you clever?
- I do have a couple of beauties at home. - All right.
Now, you've got a 12-week-old puppy, like Miss Chandler, for three days,
and you leave at ten in the morning and you come back at eight at night.
Would you forget to feed him?
Never.
Well, that pup was not fed. His food was in the fridge.
Until my dying day, I will never believe that woman forgot
that there was a hungry puppy waiting for her.
With the mess in the hall, maybe someone kidnapped her before she could feed him.
She's a smart girl.
Could I trouble you? Could you come over here, near this desk?
This is where Miss Chandler worked.
Now, uh...
these shoes.
Were these the shoes she was wearing at the funeral?
Her shoes were black. Yes, I would say so.
Well, they were down here. OK.
Uh, and these earrings.
Were these the earrings she was wearing at the funeral?
Now, I know a lot about earrings and I particularly remember them.
- Yes. These are the ones. - Uh-huh.
This glass was here.
That's Scotch. So it looks like it was obvious that this is where she was,
and, uh...
I only have one...
Excuse me, ma'am.
Would you turn your head toward the light? That lipstick, ma'am.
Would you say that that shade
is lighter in colour than the lipstick on this glass?
- Yes. - That shade, does it have a name?
- Well, I think it's called Afternoon Delight. - Uh-huh.
Mr Prince, sir, did you see Verity kiss Chuck Houston?
- I don't recall that. - Oh, she did.
- And frankly, I thought it was a bit showy. - Well, your employee Rita saw it,
because apparently she wiped the lipstick off of Mr Houston's face.
And she did it with this handkerchief.
This stain, ma'am.
How would this compare...
with the lip print on the glass?
- It's not the same. - Yeah.
That's what I thought.
Yeah.
I happened to look into this pocketbook.
This is the pocketbook that she was carrying at the funeral.
And sure enough...
this lipstick.
And this lipstick...
matches the lipstick on this handkerchief.
So this lipstick is the lipstick that she was wearing
during the day yesterday.
Question:
Why, when she came home at night,
why did she take off her day lipstick
and put on dark evening lipstick
to sit here alone,
by herself, and type?
- Would you do that, ma'am? - Oh, well, I'm a little confused.
You know, they told me they think she was working on this computer at 8:40,
and maybe she was, I don't know, but they also tell me
you push the right buttons right now - don't ask me what they are...
you can erase that 8:40pm and put in 11:30am last Christmas, so who knows?
"Only the Shadow knows."
Fascinating.
You certainly have a way with you, Lieutenant.
Is there anything else you require of us at the moment?
Not at this time, sir.
- Sir! - Yes?
I'm sorry. Sir? Sorry, sir.
Uh, ma'am? I'm sorry, ma'am.
You're late, ma'am. Forgive me.
This'll just take a second. I just forgot.
Uh, this house...
Either of you recognise this house?
Uh... no, I can't say that I've ever seen that before.
- Have you ever seen this? - No. No, I haven't.
- Sorry, Lieutenant. Can't help. - All right. Thank you very much.
- Bye-bye again. - Bye-bye.
Mr Lerby, we hardly knew you.
A freshly repaired oven awaits you.
Gentlemen, I fear this is for double occupancy.
- Hey, Freddy. What have you got for me? - I got nothing.
- What's this? Soft time? - But you got a visitor.
- Eddie Fenelle? - Yeah.
- You drive cab 953? - Yeah.
- So what's the beef? - Sit down.
The dispatcher says your cab picked up a fare three days ago in Beverly Hills...
a woman named Verity Chandler. Drove her to a funeral home.
Oh, yeah. I don't remember her name, but I picked her up around 11:30,
dropped her off. End of story.
- You didn't drive her home? - No.
- You didn't wait for her? - No.
- How'd she leave the funeral home? - How should I know?
Maybe she bummed a ride from another friend or called another cab.
Did she have this picture?
Hey, look, she didn't jump in the front seat with me. We didn't get that close.
- Are we done now? - We're done.
- How long you been out? - How'd you know I was in?
I heard you say "soft time". That's prison slang for easy duty.
- Six weeks. I'm on parole. - Keep your nose clean.
I'll keep it so clean, you can eat off of it.
I'm going for a burger. Anything happens, page me.
- Right. - Hey, nice talkin' to you.
Phew. Hell, man! It is bumper to bumper out there.
- You waiting on a cab? - No.
So what are you doing? Looking for a job?
No, just sitting and thinking.
Sitting and thinking. Well, that's a good thing if you don't like to eat.
But if you like to eat, not much time for sitting and thinking. Gotta burn rubber.
- "HB". What does that mean? - Uh, Hollywood Boulevard.
Hollywood Boulevard...
HB.
SB.
Hey! Hey!
Hey, I'm a cop! I'm a cop, you monkeys!
A thousand pardons, Lieutenant. You must forgive my security people.
The bodyguards my country provides are professional,
but they can be overzealous in their task.
Now, what can Sheikh Hirami do to help the Los Angeles Police?
Sir, I'm looking into a missing-persons case...
a woman named Verity Chandler.
Verity Chandler? I have never heard this name.
She's a kind of TV reporter.
Ah, television! Sheikh Hirami scoffs with derision.
You don't like television?
Television is a box of infidels.
- Sheikh Hirami likes movie stars. - Ah, good.
Sheikh Hirami bought this mansion because it belonged to the movie star
Miss Dorothea Page.
Dorothea Page... Yes!
A great silent-film star, became even bigger in the talkies. This was her place?
I've lived here seven years, and I cannot tell you... the tourists, the gawkers.
That is why the security.
You know, of course, when Miss Dorothea Page died, the police came too.
- Why? - Surely you must know.
The case of the mysterious missing diamonds.
Diamonds?
Uh, sir, maybe I will show you this photograph.
- What's the ruckus? - A thousand pardons.
They are upset because just three days ago,
they chased away a woman who took a picture.
Wait a minute. This woman who took this picture,
did she wear a big hat?
- Was that a yes? - Big, black hat, red clothes. Very red.
Are you saying the woman wore a big, black hat with a lot of red clothes,
three days ago, took the picture and then drove away?
Yes. She got out, stole a photograph with her camera
and then jumped right back into a taxi.
- Taxi?! - Yes, they said taxi.
Hey, I'm not for hire.
Hey, can't you read? The sign says no smo...
Oh, it's you. Hey, listen, I've already got a fare.
The dispatcher tells me you pick up the same guy
from the same doctor at the same time each week.
Right, and the meter's running. What's up?
Eddie Fenelle, aka Eddie the Fence.
Six years, grand larceny, receiving stolen goods.
Does that include a diamond necklace once worn by a star, Dorothea Page?
Hey, you can't pin that diamond job on me.
I got a witness can identify you as the driver of this cab
on the day that Verity Chandler...
took this photograph.
Now, are you gonna come clean or do I take you downtown?
I'm not looking to hurt you, Eddie. And right now I don't need any definites.
All I need is maybes.
- Maybes? - Yeah, maybes.
OK, maybe.
So maybe there is somebody who did know something about those diamonds.
This somebody didn't steal 'em, he just handled 'em, if you know what I mean.
And then maybe this somebody went to prison for another job,
then when he got out of the joint, he gets a call from a woman.
She says she's a reporter and she wants the lowdown on those diamonds.
And maybe somebody got some money for this information.
Maybe.
And maybe somebody's cab was used
to drive somebody to the dead movie star's house to take a picture.
- Maybe that too. - And maybe...
Come on, Eddie. I'm waiting!
Maybe she wants this somebody to finger the guy who stole the diamonds.
- How would she do that? - She said she'd get a photo of the guy.
Bingo.
Uh, that is not an official bingo, you understand?
That's a maybe.
But somebody identified this man in this picture
as the man who fenced the diamond necklace
belonging to Dorothea Page.
Sounds right. Maybe.
- Hey, here comes my fare. - Keep that nose clean.
The service that we provide is a business,
but how many businesses experience the whole gamut of human emotions?
Grief, pain, anger.
Some of us call ourselves funeral directors.
I prefer the old-fashioned word "undertaker".
I undertake the pain of the bereaved that they cannot bear.
Our business is based on trust,
and without that trust, we lose our business.
So it is in the spirit of that trust that I accept these awards
and thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.
Move over here a little bit. Let me take that, and look at the camera.
Thank you.
Thank you. Oh, yes, I haven't seen you for a long time.
Hey, John. How's everything, huh? Good.
Great speech, sir. Your office said that I'd find you here.
- This is not a bad time, is it? - No. Always a pleasure. You intrigue me.
- I wanted to tell you it wasn't Sonny Bono. - Excuse me?
- I said it wasn't Sonny Bono. - It wasn't him?
- No, sir. Or Sandra Bullock. - It wasn't her?
No, sir. It wasn't even Steven Boohoo.
- Who was it? - You won't believe this. My cousin...
- It was him? - No. My cousin works for a cab company.
Drives a cab, and I went down to see him. They've got this big map of the city
and he's writing on the blackboard, "Heavy traffic, HB". "What's HB?"
He says, "Hollywood Boulevard." Holy jamolies!
HB, Hollywood Boulevard.
- SB, Sunset Boulevard! - Very good.
- We're off to the bar. You joining us? - In a few minutes. Have yourself a ball.
- You bet, sir. - See you later.
It might be an idea if we went somewhere private where we could chat. Follow me.
- This cousin of yours, you see him often? - Once a month.
That should cover any fresh news he has for you. Is he on your mother's side?
- No, sir. On my father's. - Oh, on your father's side. I see.
Lieutenant, you appear to have something on your mind. What's bothering you?
A couple of those photos you took on the stand were OK,
but... this is the man I would trust.
I'm flattered. If you wouldn't mind stepping over here.
I think this will provide adequate privacy. A nice, comfortable seat.
If you'd care to step in, and I'll be with you in a moment.
Is there something in there, sir?
Have no fear. It's just for display. Empty as a tomb.
Yes. Do you always carry that paraphernalia with you?
- Sir? - Those trappings.
All the things that you pull out of your pockets.
You know, that Sunset Boulevard thing, it is intriguing.
- It is, isn't it? - Yeah.
Oh, here we are. "12 noon Houston fun PH SB."
None of the SBs we thought up.
Now, phone. PH - don't tell me that that's "phone"?
- Photo. - Photo. Photo.
Oh, yes. And you did show us a photo of a house. There must be some connection.
- I found the house. - On Sunset Boulevard?
- There it was, sir, big as life. - Fascinating. Did you thank your cousin?
I did, sir. I gave him three golf balls, but he'd never heard of Dorothea Page.
- Dorothea Page? - It was her house, sir.
She died there.
Dorothea Page. One of my idols.
Oh, she was one of the greats, sir.
A detective, Big George Tuddell - he's an old friend of mine...
he told me that when she died,
there was a million-dollar diamond necklace on her body.
I can remember the very night.
It was a Sunday, September 19... 79.
Her body was brought to the funeral home.
- You were there? - Yes.
- At the home? - Yes.
I was there.
- Wow. - It was after midnight. I was working late.
We had four big funerals the following day. I had a lot of preparation to do.
And then the phone rang. Dorothea Page had died, could the body be collected.
So I sent the ambulance and I just sat there devastated,
reliving my memories of her.
Then the ambulance returned, the body was brought in
and then the phone rang again, and this time it was the police.
They said that inadvertently a diamond necklace had been left around her neck
before she was taken to the ambulance and had I found it?
So I said, "Of course not."
- You hadn't pulled back the covers yet! - Exactly. So I told them I'd go and check.
So I... I pulled the cover back and no necklace.
Uh-oh.
So I went back to the phone and I told the police the bad news
and they said, "Don't leave the premises."
- I'll bet they were there in five minutes. - Two.
- You let them search the mortuary? - I insisted on it!
- They never found the necklace? - Not to this day.
- What a mystery, huh? - Yeah.
So what do you think really happened, sir? Who stole that necklace?
In my opinion, to this day, I still believe it was the help.
The help at her house.
- Why do you say that? - Her negligee.
It was stained, it was soiled.
No decent human being would let such a lady of class be seen in a rag.
Eric, you're the man of the year. We're waiting for you.
I'll be with you in a minute, yes.
Well, my public awaits. Would you excuse me, Lieutenant?
Oh, go right ahead, sir. Do you mind if I sit here for a moment?
Something just struck me. I have to think.
Make yourself at home.
Everyone, silence. Silence!
Thank you.
Maestro, play!
♪ For he's a jolly good...
♪ Undertaker
♪ For he's a jolly good undertaker
♪ This no one who dies can deny
♪ For he's a jolly good undertaker
♪ This no one who dies can deny
- Drink, sir? - A glass of orange juice, please. No ice.
Hey, hey. See the guy next to me?
Wanna guess what he does for a living?
Not really.
Miss, you gotta understand, Sam hasn't been next to a warm body in years!
I wonder why.
- What's your name? - Morticia?
Gentlemen, gentlemen. Gentlemen!
- Thank you. What is your name? - I'm Roberta, sir.
Roberta, to make up for the charm and grace of my colleagues,
kindly pour a round of drinks for the entire bar.
That'll be my treat.
Does that include me, sir?
Please. Thank you.
Just kidding, sir. I'm still on duty.
Sorry to bother you again, but I'd be very grateful if, uh...
you could look at this.
This is my night of honour. I would like to enjoy it.
Oh, I understand that, sir. And I'm gonna be out of your hair in a jiffy.
"Report house security officer. Woman in red dress. Big black hat."
"Took photo of Dorothea Page house three days before funeral."
- Sounds like we both know who. - Well, it had to be her, but why, sir?
Why would she do that?
- No idea. - It's very disturbing, isn't it?
Very.
I could really be on my way, sir,
if you would kindly listen to this, too.
Yes, I'll listen to it.
I'm working on a story that'll rattle a few skeletons.
Watch this Sunday for grisly undertakings on Sunset Boulevard.
Hmm. She certainly has a way with words.
You're talking about "grisly undertakings on Sunset Boulevard" - those words.
I hope nothing serious has happened to Verity,
but sometimes these tabloid journalists,
they thrive on sensation.
Right, sir. So what you figure is that she was gonna do one of those
sensationalised tabloid TV stories on you and those missing diamonds.
- What do you think? - I think she was. I do, yeah. Yeah.
What about the photo of the house?
Did she take that to show her viewing audience as part of the TV show?
- So that's what you think? - Uh... no, sir.
She took that photograph...
to show to somebody at the funeral.
Really?
Ladies and gentlemen, in honour of Eric Prince, mortician of the year,
I dug up a little funeral medley for you all,
and it goes a little like this.
♪ When a body meets a body in the dead of night
♪ Should a body hide a body?
♪ Or cremate it tonight?
♪ After the wake is over
♪ After we've all gone home
♪ After the body's buried
♪ Then we can all get stoned
♪ He'll be buried six feet under when he goes
♪ He'll be buried six feet under, and it isn't any wonder
♪ He'll be buried six feet under when he goes
♪ Come on along, come on along
♪ Eric Prince is the man of the year
♪ Come on along, come on along
♪ He's the reason for the beer
♪ You know that he's the one we all are here to see
♪ Dear Eric
♪ Come on along, come on along
♪ Let's give the guy a cheer
Very nice, my friend. Very nice. Thank you.
Beautiful.
Much as I loved her, I never did see Dorothea Page's house.
- Did anyone else recognise the photo? - No, sir. No.
- Not a soul. - What a shame.
For a moment there, I thought you were onto something.
All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's liven things up a bit.
This is a party after all. One, two, three, and...
Everybody, sing along.
You left this in the hearse. I'm sure you'll wanna keep it with your other awards.
My cousin's got one just like it from the bowling league.
Thank you.
You'll have to forgive them, Lieutenant.
You know, sometimes our business can be, shall I say, a little morbid.
Believe me, sir, if I had your job,
I'd be doing this every night!
If she was following this diamond- necklace caper, she didn't tell me.
- And you checked everything here? - You bet. Not a mention of it anywhere.
But here's a really strange thing.
All the staff have them. Verity always carried hers.
- What is it? - It's a phone/pager combined.
Here's where you paged me to come over.
- Oh, yeah. - "Lieutenant Columbo, 3:30."
Now, here's the really strange part.
When the public have gossip, it usually comes in here - email...
then it's transferred to her pager.
Now, look at the screen.
- What is "interrupted"? - Cut off, gone, dead.
What could have cut off her pager...
at 12:32?
I have no idea.
How's the pup?
That's our remembrance package. That costs $47,000.
- Oh, I'll remember that one! - Of course, we have other options.
Excuse me. Nice to see you again, Lieutenant.
Mrs Lerby has come to take her husband to his final rest.
- Our condolences. - Oh, jeez!
He's heavier now than when he was alive!
Have you selected a place for dispersal?
Well, he was the king of double knit, so I think I'll spread him over one of his stores.
I think that Mrs Lerby is pulling our leg.
The ashes will be dispersed over the ocean by our helicopter at eight tonight.
Cremation - that might be the way to go. There's no worms, but that's hot, right?
- Let me show you the procedure. Please. - Oh, thank you.
I'm leaving now, but I'll be back in good time for the service. Very fine, thank you.
Boy, this place is scary!
We would wheel you in on a gurney, just like this one,
and if I had to store you overnight, we'd put you in here. It's refrigerated.
- Is that thing always locked? - If a body is stored overnight, it is.
We wouldn't want it to run away on us!
No, sir. Do all the employees have keys?
Uh, just me. Good afternoon. Welcome to my parlour.
He's interested in the cremation procedure.
Is he? Gerald, I'm not too happy with the flower arrangement in the chapel.
Would you check it out? I'll take over.
Right away. Pleasure meeting you, Lieutenant.
I'll give you the tour.
Here we have an injector tube
for blood and formaldehyde.
And here we have scalpels, needles and thread,
putty, Pan-Cake makeup powder.
A mortician not only has to be a surgeon,
but also part-beautician and part-makeup artist.
Now, this thing is called a choker. You can take it. It's been sterilised.
We insert that into you, attach the tube, to extract your combustible gases.
It must be a funny job, sir, being a mortician.
It has its moments. That is an indispensable piece of equipment.
I don't know what I'd do without it.
So you undress the body, then you do whatever you have to do with that stuff,
dress it again. Then what?
In the box, in the coffin, in the casket.
- Like that one there, sir? - Yes, a very popular model.
- Could two people fit in there? - Afraid not. What do you have in mind?
It's a crazy thought, sir. The wife and I, we do everything together.
- Nah, forget it. Where's the oven? - The oven?
Here's our little oven.
What we do is up with the door...
in you pop, turn on the heat
and away you go.
- What heat would that be, sir? - 1600 degrees.
And my wife doesn't even like sunburn.
- When it's finished, is everything gone? - All gone.
- And one person can run the oven? - Yes.
- A whole body can fit into one of those? - A human being is mostly water.
A man of your size would probably burn down to about 5lbs.
Oh, I forgot something.
Yes, the Dan Riley, uh... the Dan Riley ceremony.
These are his dancing shoes. They'll be buried with him.
- Would you care to see? - Yes, I would, sir. Yeah.
- Everything would burn in that oven? - Of course, there are exceptions.
You can't cremate pacemakers, for instance. They're made of titanium.
- Mr Houston, he didn't have one, did he? - No.
That's much better, Gerald.
You and Hugo can go now, but do check everything before the service.
- It shall be done, sir. - Thank you. Hugo.
Now, after the service, these are placed in the casket before the casket is closed.
Sir, in case you were wondering, Miss Chandler, she didn't wear a pacemaker.
- I wasn't wondering. - Yeah, but she did have one of these.
This is a... a pager.
She had this model, sir. Oh, she carried this everywhere, probably in her pocket,
and this would tell her when she received email messages from the computer.
And on the day she disappeared, she received messages, oh, let's see...
11:13 and 11:57,
but then, at 12:32...
the pager cut off.
- No more signals. Kaput. - What do you think caused that?
Oh-ho! Ah! That is a burning question, sir.
- I think she was dead. - Really?
Yeah. I think she was killed right here at the Houston service.
- What would the killer do with the body? - He would get rid of it. He'd cremate it.
There was only Chuck Houston's cremation that day. I did it.
Yes, so the killer would have had to have switched the bodies...
switched Chuck Houston with Miss Chandler.
I see. So if he had switched the bodies, that would explain the pager going kaput.
Yes, sir. It would.
I see. Well, since there was only one cremation that day and I performed it,
that would make me the murderer.
Do tell me, do you have any bodies?
No, sir, I don't.
So if you don't have any bodies, you can't prove there was a switch.
- No, sir, I can't. - No bodies, no case.
Mm-hm. I suppose so.
That's the tricky thing about burning questions...
once they're burned,
they're just ashes. Ashes!
Have you gone?
That's a nice display, ma'am.
My housekeeper made that.
If I'd done it, they'd all be cockeyed, like me.
- Nice place you got here. - Just a little ol' ranch house. 800 acres.
Chuck just craved it for his horses, like I crave my bourbon.
Oh, my God!
Are you all right, ma'am?
I'm psychotic, Lieutenant. I should get disaster aid, like Chuck.
Poor darling, he was wounded so many times in the war.
Oh, you should've seen his x-rays. They were grisly.
He only mounted one, the one on the wall.
The one that made him limp till the day he died.
You wanna know why I'm like this?
Because when you called and said you'd be here in an hour,
I just had to help myself to a few cocktails because I know why you're here.
I just wanted to ask you a few questions.
All right.
I confess. I confess!
I throw myself on the mercy of the court. I did it!
Did what, ma'am?
I threw Chuck's ashes over the sign - the Hollywood sign.
Oh, well, that's against the law, ma'am, and that's not...
good.
Oh. I only did it because I thought he'd like it.
- Am I gonna do time? - You told me the best confession ever.
I did? Are you gonna arrest me?
I'm going to arrest you, ma'am, like no one has ever been arrested before.
He was a great artist, ladies and gentlemen.
And now a special tribute
that I know Dan would appreciate.
Beautiful.
Just beautiful.
Thank you.
- But I didn't come here for the service, sir. - That's a pity.
But I have to speak to you, sir, tonight.
- This is not the time, nor the place. - When and where, sir?
This service will be over soon. I'll be working late. In my office at nine.
- That should fit in very well. At nine? - Yes. I'll leave the gate open.
You make a left, follow the building and my office is on the right. There's a sign.
- Left, right, a sign, and you'll be there? - Yes!
Thank you very much, sir, and I'm sorry about the intrusion.
Yes!
You sure know how to send somebody away in style.
Come in.
- Good evening. Right on time. - Oh, tea for two.
I thought it might be appropriate after that service you attended today. I hope you...
- Pull up a chair. I hope you like tea. - Oh, it's my wife's favourite, sir.
Splendid. And help yourself to milk and sugar.
Oh, very nice, sir. Very nice indeed.
These tongs - very nice. My wife, she uses a spoon.
Does she?
Oh, very nice.
- Nice. Never tasted anything like it. - Darjeeling.
I've been chasing guys like you for 25 years.
Caught every one, except you.
- I hate to lose. - So do I.
You heard the one about the wealthy old lady? Hated her kids, but loved the dog.
- I'm afraid not. - The dog always wore a rhinestone collar.
And when the old lady died, the kids couldn't find the money. It disappeared.
Eight years later, the dog died.
It was cremated. Nothing left except a mound of ashes
and a $450,000 pile of diamonds.
So that wasn't a rhinestone collar the dog had on. No, sir.
No. That was a $450,000 diamond collar.
Fascinating.
You see, sir, diamonds don't burn.
But you already know that, sir.
That's why you took Dorothea Page's necklace off her dead neck,
opened her mouth and dropped it down her throat,
so you could cremate the body the next day
and take the diamonds out of the oven and put 'em in your pocket.
Why am I telling you this? Because it makes me feel good.
I gotta get some satisfaction out of this.
I'm gonna make an arrest tonight,
but I can't lay a finger on you, sir.
I haven't understood one word,
but that last part about the finger, I like that.
It sounded good. What's that thing doing here tonight?
- Oh, that's gonna land, sir. - Is it?
- Yeah, that's landing. - I'll go check on it.
Uh, sir, hold on just one minute. Let me take another sip of this beautiful tea.
Oh, these tongs, sir, they're really special.
Why don't you keep them? Save your wife using the spoon.
Thank you very much. That's very nice.
Oh, yeah, these, uh... They could come in useful.
Are you ready?
I'm ready now, sir.
Hey, guys, switch on your headlights and those sidelights!
- Let's get some light on this thing. - Yes, Lieutenant.
- What's Mrs Houston doing here? - That lady is my arrest.
Why?
She spread ashes over the Hollywood Hills. That's against the law.
- Oh, Eric, I've been such a fool. - Yes, it's all going to be all right.
Maybe, if you'll tell the judge that the warning about it's against the law
is in very fine print. If you'll do that, that could help her.
- It shall be done. - All right. Ma'am, return to the police car.
Now, go.
- Just precisely what is going on here? - Oh, it'll all be all right, sir.
Just to verify, did you cremate Mr Houston at 12:20pm Thursday afternoon?
- I did. - Very good.
Uh, you, sir! The pilot! They tell me they call you Joe.
Come on over here, Joe, and bring that bag with you.
- Are you from the Prince Funeral Home? - Yes, sir, I am.
And on Thursday, did this woman, Mrs Houston, bring ashes aboard your copter
and tell you to fly over the Hollywood sign?
- Yes, sir, she did. - Did she dump those ashes over the sign?
- She did. - I'll take that bag, thank you.
- Did you report that? - No, sir, I didn't.
All right. Report to the squad car, please. Thank you very much.
The name "Lerby" written here, did you write that when you cremated the body?
- Yes, I did, but how the blazes... - I radioed the pilot, ordered him back.
His license is in jeopardy.
Ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Columbo. We met this morning.
- I gotta confiscate your husband's ashes. - Oh, no. He's like a bad penny.
- Was your husband a war hero? - War hero! He was never in any war.
- Never served? - No, he was 4-F, like everything in his life.
- Never decorated? - Of course not.
Cos I'm thinking of Chuck Houston, who was not only a movie idol,
he was a legitimate war hero.
Fought all across the Pacific, was wounded, hospitalised, endured pain.
You should see his x-rays. He even had 'em framed.
Walked with a limp to the day of his death.
Now, Mr Prince, if you did cremate Chuck Houston on Thursday, as you claim,
when Mrs Houston spread those ashes over the Hollywood Hills,
Chuck and everything with him ended up on that hillside.
But if you didn't...
if, instead, his body was switched...
I thought these might be useful.
Chuck Houston had a piece of shrapnel in him.
A piece of shrapnel made of stainless steel - hardest metal on earth, sir.
Like titanium, it won't melt if you put 2,000 degrees on it.
Hard evidence, very distinctive shape.
I think the chances that this piece of metal will match Mr Houston's x-rays are good.
Now, sir, perhaps you can explain
how a piece of Mr Houston's 50-year-old war record ended up in the urn
of a 48-year-old leisurewear importer from Sherman Oaks.
Very good.
Very, very good.
- Would you excuse me, please? - Where are you going, Mr Prince?
I'm going to the police car. I'm wondering whether we should travel separately,
or perhaps you'd care to join me.
Well, that's up to you, sir. It's, uh...
your funeral.