03x18 - Gone But Not Forgotten

[bunniefuu]

I'm looking into a hit-and-run accident
that happened about eight years ago.

Now, this tells me he d*ed the instant
that Kn*fe was plunged into his chest.

His fingerprints are all
over the m*rder w*apon.

I mean, he's been dead long
enough for rigor mortis to have set in.

Why were you threatening to
k*ll him when you got out of jail?

Because he broke his promise!

You have interfered
in a m*rder trial.

I mean, who do
you think you are?

We and a few other giant
corporations control this country.

We are the government!

I'm busy. Get out.

Gentlemen, you
are about to enter

the most fascinating
sphere of police work,

the world of forensic medicine.

Hey.

I think that was him.

Who? Stanley Appleton Troy.

I thought he lived down in
the Caribbean somewheres.

Yeah, on his own island.

Mr. Standish, Mr. Troy,
we weren't expecting you.

It's all right, Harry.
Buzz us through.

Yes, sir. Oh, Harry,

was that new sofa I ordered for
Mr. Troy's apartment delivered?

It's inside, sir.

It arrived at 4:30 this afternoon, and
we left it unopened, as you directed.

Good.

Stanley Troy. Do you know how long
it's been since I logged that name in here?

How long? Seven, eight years.

We're right on schedule.
It's all going very smoothly.

It's not over yet, Harlan.

You worry too much.
Let's get started.

You get the ham sandwich.
I'll get the diet cola.

How are you, Ben?

Surprised to see
you here, Harlan.

Please get in.

Where are we going?

To Stanley's hotel.

Absolutely not. I won't see him.

Ben, Troy came all the
way back just to see you.

I don't want to see him.

Please, Ben, he's expecting you.

Give him five minutes.
He's not a well man.

He was my best friend,
and he cheated me.

Yes.

And he wants to
make it up to you.

How? How can he?

I'd rather he told you himself.

All right. Five minutes.

Wonderful. Troy
will be so happy.

Hurry it up, will you?

Go on up.

Aren't you coming up with me?

I think your first
reunion with Stanley,

after eight years,
should be a private one.

I'll see you up there in a bit.

Mr. Mular.

You look just great, sir.

It's been a long time.

Too long, sir. I'll bet Mr. Troy's
going to be delighted to see you.

You'll have to leave that.

You know that man
we just let through?

About seven, eight years ago,
he was Mr. Troy's right-hand man.

Heir to the throne.

Yeah, I know.

That is, until he k*lled
some kid in a car accident.

Security desk. Harry.

Harry, call the police.

Harry, don't argue with
me. Just call the police.

Stanley Troy has been m*rder*d.

The nation and the world,

the financial world in
particular, is in a state of shock.

Stanley Appleton Troy, founder of
the far-flung Capstone Corporation,

is dead at 62.

He built Capstone into
an international empire.

He was a billionaire, an inventor,
connoisseur of beautiful ladies,

yet he d*ed a
reclusive bachelor.

Here's the coroner. We'll try and
get a word with him a little later.

Mr. Troy was last seen
in public 14 years ago.

Since that time,

his only human contact has been with
a handful of close, trusted associates.

Living in seclusion on a Caribbean
island for the past eight years,

he returned to this country last
night, only to meet his untimely death.

What about other
entrances to this place?

There are none.

Lieutenant.

Oh, Quincy, in there. I'll
be with you in a minute.

Go on.

That's the only
elevator to this floor.

And this is the only
entrance to the suite.

And one of you is
on duty at all times?

Two of us. 24 hours.

And Mr. Mular, here, he
was the only visitor today?

That's right, sir. Except for the
furniture pickup at 9:35 this morning.

Oh, yeah, what was that about?

Oh, a sofa. Mr. Troy
didn't like the color.

It's too bad he wasn't
that picky about his visitors.

Quince, you want a
rush on these? Yes, I do.

Okay. You got it.

Lieutenant, did you get a
fix on the room temperature?

Yeah, a steady 72.

The w*apon is a letter
opener, Lieutenant.

Part of this desk
set, over here.

Got a good, clean
set of prints on it, too.

We'll lift them as soon as the
doc removes it from the body.

Good. That's the way we want it.

You got a time of death?

It's a little after 3:00.

You think it could
be before 3:00?

I don't know. It will be more
exact after I've done an autopsy.

Because if it's after


Really? Who?

He's sitting in the living
room. His name's Ben Mular.

Sorry, sir. I can't let you in.

Officer, I am Harlan Standish,
President of the Capstone Corporation.

This is Dr. Elderman, Executive Vice
President, and my secretary, Ms. Fairchild.

I'm sorry, sir. Please.

Thank you.

Who's in charge here?

I'm Lieutenant Monahan,
Mr. Standish. Homicide.

Tell me about
it. Well, sir, I...

Ben, what happened?

Harlan, I came in, and I found
Stanley with a Kn*fe in his chest.

And they think I k*lled him.

I blame myself. I should never
have let you go in to see him alone.

Why, Ben? Why?

Bill, Harlan, I didn't k*ll him.

Pardon me, gentlemen,

we're going to have to take
Mr. Mular down to headquarters now.

Officer.

Bill, Harlan, I swear,
I didn't k*ll him.

I swear it. I didn't.

We'd better start making funeral
arrangements immediately, Julia.

Notify all the foreign offices

that they must submit all the names
they feel are important enough to attend.

And I'll call the
mortuary. Yes. Good, Bill.

We'll have to go over the domestic
list when we get back to the office.

Especially the
Washington people.

That would include
Senator Logan?

Oh, yes, of course. And the
Vice President, Justice Morley.

The entire A-list
will want to attend.

Flowers?

By the truckload.

When do you want to
have the funeral, Harlan?

You, there. When will your
people be finished with the body?

Talking to me?

Of course I'm talking to you!

I'll release the body
when I finish doing my job.

What he means, sir...
What I said is what I mean.

Excuse me, Dr... Quincy.

Yes, of course. Thank
you. I'm sorry to be abrupt.

I was hoping you
could perhaps give me

a time frame of how long
your autopsy will take.

Say, 24 hours?

Why don't we say 36 hours?

Unless something
unlikely turns up.

Unlikely? Doesn't seem to be much
of a possibility of that, does there?

Why do you say that?

It's pretty obvious
that Ben did it,

isn't it?

You know, Quincy, I think
he's right. It is quite obvious.

With friends like that, Mular
doesn't need any enemies.

You should've seen the
rest of the place, Sam.

Living room had to
be at least 60 feet long.

And the kitchen, it was
bigger than my boat.

I need another clamp, Sam.

And he kept that apartment alive
the whole seven years he was gone.

And yet, everyday
for lunch, right,

he had a ham sandwich
and a diet soda. Never varied.

You'd figure a guy with all that
money would lead a better life than that.

Did he really run the
company all by himself?

I don't know, Sam.
There were three guys,

Standish, Elderman and Mular.

Although, Mular went
to prison, December '69.

Sam, doesn't it seem
strange to you? What?

I mean, he's been dead long
enough for rigor mortis to have set in.

Yeah. Maybe he was suffering
from some kind of wasting disease.

No. See, there's no
muscle deterioration.

That needle mark? Mmm-hmm.

I want you to do a
complete tox screen on it.

See if you can find any dr*gs.

Right.

What did this Mular
go to prison for?

Mular? Manslaughter.
Hit and run.

But that Standish and Elderman,
they're a couple of beauties.

Here it is. What?

I found the rest of
that ham sandwich.

Where was it? In
the upper intestine.

That narrows the time
of death even closer.

How's that?

Well, Standish said that he
had lunch every day, 12:30 sharp.

Figure two-and-a-half hours
to get to the upper intestine.

You've got 3:00.

Yeah. And the liver temp
indicated he d*ed a little after 3:00.

Sam, come here.

Look at this. A fresh bruise on
Troy's head, right behind the hair.

See that? Looks like he might've
fallen when he was stabbed.

No. That's what's strange.

Apparently, he was lying in
his bed when he was k*lled.

Monahan didn't say anything
about the body being moved.

Hmm.

How you coming with the blood?

I am having a little problem.
I can't seem to type it.

The cells seem to be
coated with something.

Really? Let me see.

Holy mackerel! I thought this
was going to be such a simple case.

Better wash the cells, Sam.

Good idea.

Lab.

Office. Any complications?

Well, not really,

Well, terrific. Question. When?

Answer. What's your hurry?

The Capstone people would like to
have Troy's body tomorrow afternoon.

And Standish is twisting
your arm, too, right?

And the Mayor, and the...

And we get to eat in tonight.

Unless you're ready to sign
Troy's death certificate now.

Without doing a complete
autopsy? Thanks a lot.

You better order dinner, Sam.

I can't. Why not?

I got tickets to the
Lakers game tonight.

You're gonna be here tonight.

And make it a large pizza with the
works. Anchovies and everything.

Okay, a large pizza
with the works coming up.

With anchovies.
Sounds delicious.

Glad you're here. I have
to ask you some questions.

Oh, well, let me
ask you one first.

You got a definite
time of death?

Yeah. No earlier than


Well, then, forget your questions,
sign the death certificate,

and I'll take you
both out to dinner.

Rocco, hold the pizza for
a minute. You're kidding.

Hey, Quincy, if you're
not working on the body,

why don't you
cover it over, huh?

You're very squeamish for a
police lieutenant, you know that?

No, we're going to
eat soon. Here, behold.

A homicide detective's dream.

From Mular, from the m*rder
w*apon. Same-o, same-o.

- Classic open-and-shut case.
- Hmm.

Quince, let me look.

They sure look identical. Look.

They are identical. Not only
that. He threatened to k*ll Troy.

Why did he do that? Why? Who
knows? He's still denying everything.

But he'll tell us once we confront
him with the new evidence.

Well, what do you
say? Let's go to dinner.

Scratch the pizza, Rocco.

I don't know, Monahan.

You don't... What
don't you know now?

It's a maybe again.

You guys find any evidence
that the body was moved?

Of course not.

Mular stabbed him in bed.
Right where we found him.

I wouldn't be so sure. There
was a fresh bruise on Troy's head.

It's a go, Rocco.

Maybe he hit him on the
head, and then rolled him over.

Why would he do
a thing like that?

Who knows? What's
the difference?

Maybe it was a
thing to do at the time.

Maybe he stabbed him on
the other side of the room.

What's the difference?

The point is Mular was the
only one that could've done it.

You just said it. What?

Mular stabbing him on
the other side of the room.

So? Quincy, what
about your report?

When I finish doing my
job, and maybe yours, too.

What does that mean?

I got a feeling it means you and I
are going to have to split a big pizza.

Do you like anchovies?

Quincy? Yes.

My name is Deshver,
I'm Mular's attorney.

Oh, how do you do?

You wanted to
see him? Yes, I did.

What about? Ask him
a couple of questions.

Why? He did it.

You're his lawyer,
and you say that?

Well, you know, I like to tick
off the points like I see them.

Bet you're very successful.

Hey, look. There was only
one entrance to the apartment.

He was the only one
alone there with Troy.

His fingerprints are all
over the m*rder w*apon.

We know he's guilty
as hell, don't we?

You know, with you as a defense
attorney, they don't need a prosecutor.

By the way, when you talked
to your client, if you ever did,

did he mention lifting the body?

Lifted him?

Doctor, if you know
anything about a back

problem known as a
herniated nucleus pulposus,

you'll know I couldn't lift a
stool, never mind a human body.

Your medical history would
confirm that, wouldn't it?

Yes, it would.

Okay, next question. Did you
hit Troy on the back of the head?

I didn't do anything, Doctor.

I didn't hit him. And I
certainly didn't k*ll him.

But you were there, Mr. Mular, and
I'd heard that you threatened to k*ll him.

Yeah, I know.

I know it sounds
bad. It doesn't matter.

I didn't k*ll him.

It matters to me. You'll
be hearing from me soon.

Look, Quincy, I know I get
impatient and I yell sometimes.

And I'm going to
try not to do that.

But what do I care about a superficial
wound on the back of Troy's head

or Mular's bad back?
They don't mean anything!

They should. They're
unanswered questions.

"Who k*lled Cock Robin"
is an unanswered question.

Do I concern myself about that?

Troy's body is trying to tell me
something. I'm not getting the message yet.

The message is you
fill out your report,

and I go home and take a
bicarb chaser for that pizza.

How in the world
can you eat that junk?

Monahan, the bottom line is I
think Mular could be innocent.

He was alone with
him. He's got to be guilty.

I know what you're
going to say, I know.

All right, then,
fill out your report.

I've been getting phone calls
every 20 minutes from upstairs.

I'm not going to sign anything
until I get more answers!

For Pete's sake, will you
stop playing detective?

Somebody has to.

All the hard evidence
still points to Mular.

Don't remind me.

Time of death, him being the only
one in the apartment since morning.

Yeah, we've got to
face all these facts.

Also have to face the fact

that there was no rigor mortis,

there's blood
that we can't type,

there's an unexplained
contusion and needle mark.

So, what does it all mean?

I don't know.

That's what bugs me. It's the
most baffling case I've ever been on.

And I can tell
you're still on a diet.

Sam, let's assume
that he's innocent, okay?

Okay, let's assume.

That means he was framed, right?

But how?

You keep saying that.
I don't know how, Sam.

And why? Does he
have any enemies?

A guy that powerful
has to have enemies.

Tomorrow, I'm going to pay
a visit to his so-called friends.

What are you eating?

Tuna salad.

Oh, can I have half?

No. You're on a diet.

Can I have a bite?

And, so, gentlemen,

with the enormous
accomplishments of our late president,

who was so tragically
taken from our midst,

engraved in our memories,

I, as your new president,

intend to continue this
corporation's international policies

as well as the high ideals

that so characterized
Stanley Appleton Troy,

a giant among men.

We shall miss him.

My appointment as your
president is effective as of now,

which, as you all know, is
in keeping with his wishes.

Before we part, I'd
like to add a footnote.

I dislike having to
disappoint the many of you

who wish to attend Mr. Troy's
funeral tomorrow afternoon.

However, due to the numbers of
international leaders and friends

who are flying in,

seating space is
severely restricted.

I know you'll all understand.

That's all, gentlemen.

Harlan, I'd like to...

Make an appointment, Logan.

Harlan, could we discuss
the... No, not now, Perkins.

Harlan, Bill and I
should talk to you...

No, that's impossible...
Mr. Standish. Mr. Standish.

Oh, Dr... Quincy.

Could I talk to
you for a minute?

All right, Doctor. But
please be... Excuse me.

Talk to you later.

Where were we? I
haven't much time.

Neither do I. Who was
Mr. Troy's physician?

Dr. Elderman was.

You? I thought you were Executive
Vice President of Capstone.

I am, but before I went into
research, I was a practicing physician.

Mr. Troy was reluctant
to deal with strangers.

Do you recall his blood type?

Of course I do. B positive. Why?

We're having trouble typing it.

Is that all that's holding
up your releasing the body?

No, it's not quite all.

Oh, well, is it possible there's some
doubt that Ben Mular k*lled Stanley?

Not as far as the
police are concerned.

What about you, Doctor?

Yes, I have a question of doubt.

Do you, really? Yes, I do.

But in the face of
all the evidence,

don't you find yourself
in the minority?

Oh, that's my
favorite place to be.

Thank you, Doctor.

I told you we'd have
trouble with him.

Forget it, Bill. That civil service
clown will never figure it out.



So, what do you think you're
going to learn from him?

Who knows?

I'd settle for how come a maintenance
man can walk up to Standish and talk to him

and vice presidents
need appointments.

Look, you're wasting your time,
Quincy. The case is wrapped.

Said the bishop to the actress.

All right, all right, keep
your shirt on. I'm coming.

Yeah? Mr. Mendes,

I'm Dr. Quincy. I'm with
the Coroner's Office.

I'd like to ask you a
couple of questions.

Oh, look, I told the police
everything I know yesterday.

I don't want to
talk about Mr. Troy.

What then? I want to
talk about Harlan Standish.

Look, I got nothing to
say to you. Get out of here.

Yes?

All right, stay with Quincy.

Oh, it might be a good idea
to keep an eye on Mendes.

Mmm.

Mendes, too?

Relax, William.

I can't.

As long as Quincy has
the body, we're in trouble.

Sooner or later he's
going to figure it out.

Well, before that happens, I can assure
you we will have gotten either the body

or Dr. Quincy.

Been waiting for you. For what?

Well, I want to hear about the
check on Mendes' background.

Well, I got a guy on it.
But that's it where it stops.

I can't spare the manpower.

We're on to 16
other cases already.

I don't know how or what, but I'm telling
you, Mendes is connected with this thing.

Quincy, will you get
off of it? Mular did it.

Now, he threatened to k*ll
Troy. His prints are on the Kn*fe.

And he was alone with
Troy at the time of death.

But there's something
wrong with the pathology.

Like? Like no rigor mortis.

Like an unexplained contusion
on the back of Troy's head.

What does that prove?

That Mular could be
innocent. Oh, that's insane.

I'll tell you something
that's even crazier.

I think that Standish and Elderman
have something to do with it.

Well, I hope you
realize that you're liable

to be opening up a
very large can of beans.

Well, if we're going to open up a can
of beans, it might as well be a big one.

Sam, the carousel set
up? Yeah, it's set up.

Let's get some answers.

Quince, would you settle
for another question?

Unbelievable. What now?

Well, you know the blood
we found in the chest cavity?

Yeah.

There are no cells.

What are you talking...
That's impossible.

What did you do?
Screw up the slides?

Oh, come on now. Take a look.

I don't believe
it. It's hemolyzed.

But, Sam, there was no
sign of any hemolytic disease.

No anemia. No leukemia.

He wasn't being
treated for hypertension.

It doesn't make any sense.

Nothing here makes any sense.

Let's look at the slides.

The red cells wouldn't rupture
like that. Not in a fresh hemorrhage.

I know, but you just
gave me an idea.

Suppose the
hemorrhage wasn't fresh.

Suppose it was a few hours old.

That might explain it.

Decomposition, but...

But, I know, we know
the exact time of death.

Instantaneous. He d*ed
as soon as he was stabbed.

I think I'm beginning to
lose some of my marbles.

Now, this is the blood you
took from his arm, right?

Now, this tells me he d*ed the instant
that Kn*fe was plunged into his chest.

This is the blood you
took from the chest cavity,

as a result of the Kn*fe wound.

This tells me it could've
been three hours earlier.

Or three days or three weeks.

Or three months or three years!

So, which one's the
truth? You tell me, Sam.

You tell me.

Why is everybody in here?
What's going on in here?

What have you been
doing for 24 hours?

Trying to solve a m*rder.
Trying to solve a m*rder?

You're supposed to
be finishing an autopsy.

I just got a call from Washington
about this. What do I tell these people?

Sometimes I wonder
whose side you're on.

Listen, whose side are you on?

You know the pressure I'm
getting from the Capstone people,

their lawyers, now a US senator?

Senator? Why's he
pushing for a quick autopsy?

Well, Standish is
pressuring him. Oh, boy.

His congressmen, his
government officials...

Doesn't that make
you feel concerned?

Oh, am I interrupting
something? No.

Look, I got something
strange on that Mendes guy.

Yeah? We've been
checking into his past,

it's like he hasn't got one.

What do you mean?

Well, it's like he didn't exist before
December 1969. At least not here in LA.


accident. The one he went to prison for.

So? I think there
could be a connection

between Mendes and the accident.

You're giving me a headache. What
has that got to do with Troy's m*rder, huh?

Besides, I don't even know
why I'm discussing it with you.

It's over. Finished.
Done. We got our man.

Just tell me about the accident.

Listen, they've got their man.
This is just wasting valuable time.

Now, will you please
finish the autopsy?

Tell me about the accident.

It was a hit and run
up in Sierra Crest.

A little boy got k*lled.

Mular admitted to
it the following day.

He pleaded guilty. That's all?

Yeah, that's the whole story.

I don't think so. Too many
shadows. Too many coincidences.

Where are you
going? Sierra Crest.

Why?

To stop somebody from
getting away with m*rder.

Anybody home? Yeah.

Can I help you?

Let me help you. Oh, thank you.

I'm Dr. Quincy. I'm
looking for Bert Phillips.

Oh, are you a friend of
Bert's, Doctor? No, no, no, no.

I was just down at Sierra Crest.

They told me he's the
publisher of the local paper.

And that he lived here. Mmm-hmm.

Can I come in and put
this down for you, please?

Yeah, come on in.

Thank you.

In this basket okay?

Yeah. That's fine.

Do you like Vivaldi?

Well, I'm kind of into Bach.

Oh.

You moving in or out?

I'm staying. I've
been here 10 years.

With Bert? Oh, yeah, yeah.

Bert and I are very close.

Do you want some coffee?

Yeah, thanks. Is he around?

Who? Bert.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Bert's
around. You like sugar?

No, thanks. Listen, I'm
in kind of a hurry, you see.

Yeah, I can tell. Now, look, you
ought to slow down. You'll live longer.

Right. Is there any chance I
could see him and talk to him.

Sure. Bert!

Any possibility
that you are Bert?

Oh, you know, you
ought to be a detective.

And you ought to be spanked.

Look, I'm a coroner.

I'm looking into a hit-and-run accident
that happened about eight years ago.

I want to go over
your newspaper files.

The Mular case?

How do you know that?

Well, it's not every day that
Stanley Troy's right-hand man

runs somebody
down in Sierra Crest.

Made a big splash about it, huh?

Not as much as it might have.

We ran it big locally, but it never
made it onto the wire services.

Capstone suppressed
it. That was Troy's clout.

He had a lot of clout up here, too.
Kept a big lodge up on the mountain.

What are you looking
for? My car keys.

Here? Yeah.

Lots of luck.

See, Dr. Smart Person?

Houdini couldn't
have done it better.

Come on, let's go.

You're a heck of a guy, Bert.

This could only
belong to you, Bert.

Somebody has been here.
They messed everything up.

How can you
tell? No, I can tell.

What about that accident
file I was talking to you about?

That's just what
I'm about to see.

It's gone. Standish.

What? Somebody
didn't want me to see it.

Well, that's it for me. Unless you know
somebody by the name of George Mendes.

Mendes? Yeah.

No, I never heard of him.

Oh, wait a minute.

There was a picture of the
boy who was k*lled by Mular.

Here? Yeah.

You're never
going to find it here.

Let me see, there was the O'Connor
barn burning, there was the forest fire,

and there was that
bank... Yeah. Yeah.

Yep. Here it is.

The boy's name was Juan Ortega.

All right, now, I want
you to tell me the truth.

When was the last time
you saw this picture?

Eight years ago.

You are a remarkable woman.

This doesn't help me.

Would you do me a favor? What?

Remove that stuff, whatever
it is, from the man's face.

Yeah.

Let's see if this will do it.

Yeah.

Yeah, that was the boy's
father, Juan Ortega Sr.

He was the only
witness to the accident.

He identified Mular
as the driver and then...

He became George Mendes.

This is the connection.

Come on. Well,
where are we going?

I'm gonna get you a
patent for your filing system.

Oh, no, no, no. That filing system
has been in my family for years.

- You're kidding!
- No really.

Mr. Mular, why won't
you tell me the truth?

Don't you see I'm
trying to help you?

The accident happened
a long time ago.

And I paid for it with
eight years of my life.

Eight years is going to be
peanuts compared to what

you're going to get
for Troy's m*rder.

I didn't k*ll him.

You and I are the only
ones who believe that.

Don't forget your fingerprints
were on the letter opener.

I told you I often
opened his mail for him.

That was eight years ago! Who's going to
believe that nobody has touched it since?

Don't you see the truth is the
only thing that is going to help you?

Now, what is your connection with
Mendes or Ortega or whatever his name is,

and Standish and the accident?

All right, all right!

I was in Stanley's lodge.

He called after
he'd hit the boy.

Troy was driving?

Yes, he was terribly upset.

He said he wanted
to give himself up.

Why didn't he?

They wouldn't let him.

Who's "they"?

Standish and Elderman.

They said the publicity
would ruin the faith

in our company. We
had just gone public.

So they made you the patsy.

And I didn't mind.

Stanley Appleton Troy was
my friend. My very good friend.

He was a very great man.

You know what his inventions have done
for medical science, for our space program?

He was vital. I was expendable.
So I agreed to take his place.

Take full responsibility
for the boy's death.

That's quite a sacrifice.

One that Stanley deeply
appreciated at the time.

How deeply?

He promised to leave me
controlling interest in Capstone.

Why were you threatening to
k*ll him when you got out of jail?

Because he broke his promise!

In the eight years that I spent in
prison, he gradually turned control

over to Standish and Elderman!

Why didn't you tell us
this at the beginning?

Dr. Quincy,

if the police knew that I spent
eight years in prison for Stanley,

and each of those eight years,
my rage increased as I learned

how he'd turned power
over to those two...

They'd know you really
had a motive, huh?

Which I did have.

I gave him eight
years of my life.

But I didn't k*ll him.

How does Ortega
fit in to all this?

He saw Stanley in the car.

He was an eyewitness.

So they bought his silence by
guaranteeing him financial security.

He perjured
himself in your trial?

Yeah.

Well, let's hope it's not
too late for his redemption.

You better talk to me this time.

Mr. Ortega.

I think you got the wrong guy.

No, I had the wrong name for a
while, but that's all straightened out now.

I spent the night in Sierra
Crest. I just left Ben Mular.

What do you want?

I know the truth about that
hit-and-run accident eight years ago.

My son is dead. What
else is there to know?

That Troy k*lled him and not
Mular, and that he bought you.

Now, look, I'm not here to judge you,
Mr. Ortega. I need some information.

What do you know
about Troy's m*rder?

I don't know anything.
Nothing. Just...

Just what?

Just nothing. Come
on, will you? You're lying!

Look, I got a good life here.

I try not to think
about the kid anymore.

An innocent man is sitting in jail and
two guilty ones are walking around free.

I want to turn that around.

Haven't you seen
enough injustice?

A man k*lled your boy.

And he bought his freedom because
he was wealthy, and he also bought you.

Now, if that doesn't
touch your conscience,

I'm going to see that you
go to jail for perjury! All right!

All right, Quincy.

It wasn't Troy who walked into
the apartment the other night.

Are you sure?

Yeah. I'm sure.

After Troy hit my
son, he took off.

Wrapped himself around a tree.

Broke his leg up so badly
they were going to amputate.

But they didn't.

Even though the doctor said he
would limp for the rest of his life.

The man who walked into the
apartment the other night didn't limp.

Good, William, good.
A touching eulogy.

You wrote it as if you meant it.

I did mean it.

He was a great man, Harlan.

Standish in? Yes,
he is. But you...

You can't see him
right now. Oh, yes, I can.

I'm sorry, Mr. Standish.

It's all right, Julia.

Dr. Quincy, be brief.
You have one minute.

Why don't we
synchronize our watches?

If you have something to
say, I suggest you get on with it.

I know that you and Elderman k*lled
Troy. I just don't know how you did it.

But all your muscle isn't going
to stop me from finding out.

I promise you. I'm
going to nail you.

Never, Doctor, not
in a million years.

For two days, I have seen important
government officials run scared

because of the power
you people have.

You have interfered
in a m*rder trial.

You have stolen newspaper files.

You manipulated the law and
sent an innocent man to prison!

I mean, who do
you think you are?

You think you and this conglomerate
are bigger than the government?

Is that what you think? Think?

Not only will I tell you who I think
we are, I'll tell you who we actually are.

We're the whole
ball of wax, Quincy.

The ultimate conglomerate.

We and a few other giant
corporations control this country.

We are the government!

I should think a man of your
intelligence and experience

would've understood that.

Now, I'm busy. Get out.

I'm sorry, Quince.

They took Troy's body
away about an hour ago.

That doesn't surprise me.

Everything about this case has
gone wrong from the beginning.

I tried to stop them, but
Astin signed the release.

Troy's going to be cremated.

They're going to get
away with it, Sam.

Yeah.

I got the gas chromatography
results on Troy's blood.

Found trace amounts of
chlordiazepoxide, salicylates

and a kind of funny
one. Cyclamates.

Cyclamates? How could
that get into his body?

You sure? Yeah.
I double-checked.

That was banned
by the FDA, wasn't it?

Yeah. They used them in
diet soft drinks and like that.

How long ago they
banned? Six, seven years?

Well, I looked it up.

It was effective for soft
drinks January 1, 1970.

Now, that's two weeks
after Mular went to prison.

That can of diet soda we found beside
Troy's body, the one he had for lunch,

what was in that?

It was sweetened
with saccharine.

No cyclamates.

Everything seems to have
happened eight years ago.

You know anything about
the Capstone Industry?

Yeah. What kind of
research they were into?

Yeah, some. Run them
down for me, will you?

Well, space research, computers,
cryogenics, solar energy...

Hold it.

You know, you are a very
smart fellow. You know that?

That's it. That's why everything seems
to have happened eight years ago.

What do you mean? Cryogenics.

Why didn't I see it before?

Sam, that's why the freshness of the
wound and the age of the blood didn't jibe.

Why? Because Stanley Appleton
Troy was m*rder*d eight years ago!

But how?

I'll tell you later. Go get your
coat. I gotta call Monahan.

Hey, where are we going?

We're going to get Troy's body
back before it gets cremated.

Lieutenant Monahan, please.

Cryogenics, Sam. Low-temperature
physics. They froze him.

Eight years ago they k*lled
Troy, and then they froze him.

They had to wait till
Mular go out of prison,

so they could frame him for it.

That's incredible.

Is that why there
was no rigor mortis?

That's right.

And that blood you
couldn't type? Yeah.

It was probably
coated with glycerol.

Yeah, it was. But why?

To prevent ice-crystal
formation, they use glycerol.

The blood from the chest
cavity didn't have any.

That's why the cells ruptured.

Then they gradually transferred
ownership of the company to themselves.

Yeah.

And the ham shreds we
found in Troy's upper intestines?

Those ham shreds,
Sam, were eight years old.

Eight years of patience.
Eight years of planning.

I still think there's
some time left.

Okay, fellows, school's out.
I figured out how you did it.

Quincy, this is hardly the time
or the place for your usual antics.

I didn't pick the time
or the place. You did.

Please remove this man, so we
can get on with Mr. Troy's funeral.

I want you to arrest these two
guys for the m*rder of Stanley Troy.

Now, just a moment. That's a
pretty serious charge, Doctor.

I think I can prove it, Doctor.

I'm going to take a skin
section from Troy's body.

The dermal-epidermal interface will show
a breakdown in the basement membrane.

This could only be
caused by freezing.

That's nonsense. If that
were true, your blood samples

would've shown it.

You drained all
the blood out of him

after you k*lled
him eight years ago.

Then you mixed it
with some glycerol

and you pumped it back into him.

That's what the needle
mark in his arm was really for.

That's right.

Officer, please remove this man.

Officer, you will please
not remove this man.

Did they tell you
how they did it?

I already know.

That furniture that was
logged into the apartment.

Yeah, the day before the m*rder?

Yeah, well that carton
didn't contain a sofa.

It contained a cryogenic
cylinder with the frozen body

of Stanley Troy.

Which they removed
the following morning?

Yeah, containing the man who
pretended to be Troy the day before.

They kept him in a deep
freeze for over eight years,

saying he lived
in the Caribbean.

And what possible motive
would we have for doing all that?

You knew he was going to leave
his whole empire to Ben Mular

for taking that hit-and-run rap.

I think you gentlemen
better come along with me.

Can you wait till
after the funeral?

There ain't going to be any
funeral today, Mr. Standish.

When then?

Not until Dr. Quincy
finishes his autopsy.

Oh, your car or mine?

Thank you. I prefer my own.

Well, Sam, beautiful day
not to go to a funeral, huh?

I thought I was going to
mine, the way you were driving.

It's fantastic. It's
absolutely fantastic.

But why did they go to all that
trouble to frame Ben Mular?

Well, they found out that Troy
was going to leave him everything.

Oh, can you imagine
all that money?

Oh, they were riding
high for a minute.

I say a toast to
the big city hero.

And as reward, a
day and a half off. Oh.

Which is rapidly
drawing to a close.

Oh, no, but you still haven't
told me what tipped it for you.

The cyclamates.

There was no way they could've
known that it was going to be banned.

You are incredible.

Do you want more
wine? Oh, no, no.

If I drink anymore, I
won't be able to drive.

Well, you're not going to be
able to drive anyway, Quincy.

Why not?

It's the darnedest thing, but I
seem to have mislaid your car keys.

Oh. Well...