03x16 - m*rder He Wrote

Post by **bunniefuu** » 04/19/26 20:41

ELLIOTT: "His student in the short
skirt... couldn't remember her name...

"appeared during office hours
that afternoon.

"'You looked up my skirt, ' she said.

"'What are we gonna do about it?'

"How dare she?"

"He was a distinguished
member of the faculty,

"for God's sakes.

"And this Lisa... yes, that's it...

"would not be satisfied until he was...

"dismembered.

"How had he arrived here,

"from walking home from school

"to his mother's embrace

"and a tuna fish sandwich

"on perfectly toasted toast...

"to this horror?

"Well, of course
he had looked up her skirt.

"But, you know, was that a choice?

"In that moment, he knew

"she had complete power over him.

"And he knew that he was,

"maddeningly,

"absurdly...

"in love with her."

- (AUDIENCE CHUCKLES)
- BARNEY: Sixteen books

in 18 years.

Well, that includes, uh,
a collection of my essays.

Oh, such modesty.

A new novel by Elliott Pope
is a major event,

especially in our mutual hometown

of Massapequa,
which has featured prominently

in many of your books.

I'm sure that's just a coincidence.

You ever go back?

Only in my work.

Well, everyone there is very proud,

even if they're afraid
that you're going to write

your next "metafiction roman à clef"
about them.

You know, I never write about
anyone in particular.

I write what I write.

And it has worked out for you.

After those early, smutty bestsellers,

you have become an institution,

winning prizes and raves from everyone

except me,

but that is because
I have recused myself.

I don't read reviews, Barney,
but it is nice to know

that if I did,

I wouldn't even have
the option to read yours.

Well, that's probably for the best.

BARNEY: Back through here.

My God.

I know, it's gotten out of hand,

but I know where everything is.

Oh, hey, would you
like to sign some books?

- I'm not in the mood.
- Ah.

ELLIOTT: Oh. Is that a rat?

BARNEY: Oh, Templeton.

Smart little guy, can't catch him.

Bev keeps threatening
to call the health department.

Hey, tonight was great.

It was an honor just being on

that stage with you.

Then, um,

why did you have to spew all that, uh,

"metafiction roman à clef" garbage?

It diminishes my work. It's saying,
uh, I don't make things up.

Don't be so touchy.

What's wrong...
is the writing not going well?

- Uh...
- What are you working on?

That's none of your business.

Oh, come on. Are you stuck?

You know, I could be helpful.
I'm not a total idiot.

Barney, you're a critic.

Who doesn't review your books.

Let me read what you're
working on. Please, as a fan.

- It's not ready.
- Well, maybe not for the world,

but for me?

Come on. It would give me so much joy.

To be the first person
to read a new Elliott Pope?

Wow.

You're laying it on a little thick.

It's true. Elliott,

I'm begging you.

It would mean so much
that you trusted me.

Well... it's still in longhand.

So, if you lose the manuscript,

I will k*ll you.

ELLIOTT: Edgar Bishop walked up Madison,

past the fresh-faced girls

leaving the Dalton School,
as was his habit.

His thoughts kept returning to
the little man in the bookstore.

Two months and still not a word.

Not one word.

Oh, uh... (MOUTHING)

Let me get you a bag.

There you go.

WOMAN: Thank you.

Yes, I'm sure they'll just
fly off the shelves

when they're arranged
like this. (CHUCKLES)

Yeah.

I'm glad you're here.
I want to show you something.

I took this out of my
safe deposit box today.

I have to sell it to
cover some debt.

Rent went up again.

This is tough stuff for Forster.

Not effeminate like the others.

That's a first edition Howards End
from Henry James' private library.

Well, we think so.

The proof is iffy.

Let me get you a drink.

I hate to part with it, but if I don't,

I'll have to let Bev in
on the state of our finances.

Oh.

Oh, uh, yeah, I, uh,

sensed some awkwardness,

and I assume it's because

I... I never called you
about your manuscript.

I read it.

I mean, how much do you want me to say?

I don't want you to say anything.

I didn't even want you to
read it in the first place.

Y... I don't care

what you think at all.

Oh, thank you. Thank you.

Why are you thanking me?

For not making me give you my notes.

I'm so tired of the sound of

my own voice, pompously pointing out

flaws in people's work.

Flaws. What...

Come on. What flaws?

I thought you didn't want to know.

Okay, well, now I'm interested,
so go ahead.

- Come on, tell me.
- You sure?

W... Well, uh,

where to start? (SHORT CHUCKLE)

Uh, you know, it's just another

sad, masturbatory exercise,

steeped in misogyny

and casual cruelty. Once again,

you have strip-mined the lives
of the good people of Massapequa...

I recognized every one of them...

for filthy lucre.

And all but your sainted mother

and her tuna sandwiches
are subjected to your snide disapproval.

Honestly, every
impeccably-crafted sentence

made me want to vomit.

Hmm.

Well...

thank you, Barney.

I value your opinion.

The way I would

value the opinion

of a loser want-to-be

of no literary importance.

A man who sells and criticizes

books he wished he had written,

but all the while
knowing he is incapable

of holding anyone's interest

because his life, like his mind,

is completely worthless.

- Ah...
- Maybe so,

my old friend,

- maybe so.
- I'm sorry. You know,

it's-it's the people who know us best

whose bad opinions
hurt the most, so forgive me.

Oh, I deserve every bit of it.

Oh...

You still want me to sign some books?

Of course.

Oh!

Elliott!

Elliott, please.

Help. Help. (GRUNTING)

Elliott,

doesn't our friendship
mean anything to you?

How much do you want me to say?

No!

No, no, no!

No, Elliott.

ELLIOTT: "Edgar Bishop knew

"his life wouldn't change much

"after the death of his friend.

"Was that even the word?

"Acquaintance? More like a mirror.

"For Marty Roper could always show him

"who he really was.

He would miss the son of a b*tch."

- (GENTLE LAUGHTER)
- FRED: Now, the character of

Marty Roper does bear
a passing resemblance

to a mutual acquaintance of ours.

Yep, Barney Corman.

Now, for those of you who don't know,

Barney Corman was a critic
who owned Barney's Books,

and who died tragically
a year and a half ago,

crushed by his own bookcases.

- Oh, my God.
- You know, I remember

hearing from his wife, Bev,
who mentioned that

you were devastated when she called you.

I mean, you know, who wouldn't be?

Did you know immediately
you wanted to write about it?

Well, no, 'cause, you know, I haven't.

I mean, yes, Barney's death,

uh, did spark my imagination,
you know, at some level,

but, you know, I'm not
interested in parsing out,

you know, what's true
and just pure invention.

That's been a constant
in your career, hasn't it?

People asking
what's made up, what isn't?

- Yeah, it's irritating.
- (LAUGHING)

And I just did it. Bad Fred.

All right, let's open it up

- to some questions.
- ELSBETH: Oh.

Oh!

- Yes?
- Me?

- Mm-hmm.
- SHERYL: Uh, hi,

I'm Sheryl Jacobs.
Um, I'm actually an author, too.

My book Unwell On My Way

is out in paperback...

- What is your question?
- SHERYL: Sorry.

I'm a little nervous.

Um...

- such a fan...
- Again, your question?

I forgot what it was.

- Oh, no, wait, my friend has one.
- Oh.

- Yeah. Right?
- Okay.

Um, hello. Hi.

Uh, hi, Fred.

- Oh.
- (LAUGHS)

Um, I was just curious
about the way Marty dies

in the avalanche.

I was surprised when
he went on that ski trip.

He wasn't very athletic.

Well, you know, uh,
character is often, uh, revealed

through contradiction.

But the narrator, Edgar,

says that his and Marty's eyes meet

just before he dies.

That doesn't seem possible.

- How do you mean?
- Well, I mean, if they were

actually that close,

then both of them would have been k*lled

by the falling snow.

You're reading it wrong.

Oh, okay.

It's just, it says their eyes meet,

so...

And Eddie is really you,

- isn't he?
- FRED: Okay,

let's move on to the next
question. Uh, yes,

- over here.
- Thank you.

WOMAN: Over here.

SHERYL: To Sheryl.

Thank you.

Could I give you a copy of my book, too?

It would mean so much to me.

Sorry, life is finite.

Oh. Oh-oh...

No, I understand.

Hi. It's for

Elsbeth. With a "B." (CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

Elsbeth with a "B."

That's right.

I'm sorry if my question seemed rude.

I'm actually so impressed with

how vividly you imagined
that death scene,

because, of course, you weren't
there when your friend died.

No, I read it in the paper,
like everybody else.

I thought Fred said

you got a call from Barney's widow,

and that's how you found out.

Yes, and then I read the details.

Yeah, a word of advice.

You focus so much
on unimportant details,

you lose the deeper meaning.

You can't read my books

like they're Agatha Christie
m*rder mysteries.

Who said anything
about a m*rder mystery?

I've met that woman before.

- She's pretty kooky.
- Yeah.

Hard to believe
she works with the police.

you telling him.

- Hi.
- (CLEARS THROAT)

Ooh. Elliott Pope?
Now, that man can write.

So you've read his books?

Uh, yeah, one or two.

- You mean the early dirty ones.
- Hey, now.

Just because Pope's books
were somewhat explicit

doesn't detract from
their literary merit.

My older brother gave me
a copy of Couch Liar

when I was 12, saying it would
put hair on my chest.

I still don't know why
he was expecting it to do that.

So, why are we talking about him?

Well, I have been making
my way through Pope's books.

He's not very good
at writing women, is he?

And I can't stop
thinking about his new book,

Snow Falls Down, which is inspired

by the death of a friend of his.

Oh, I-I see where this is going.

Barney Corman was crushed

by falling bookcases

Aah...!

In the book,

Marty Roper was crushed by an avalanche

on a ski trip.

So, the first could have
inspired the second.

That's what writers do.

True. But in most of Pope's books,

the narrator... his alter ego
is usually named Edgar Bishop...

is wracked with all sorts of guilt

about everything. But in this book,

Edgar doesn't feel guilty at all

about Marty's death,
even though he had sex

with Marty's wife in a cave
at the top of the mountain,

which is what caused the avalanche.

Oh. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
The man's still got it.

Don't you see?

Pope is trying to distance himself

from the death of Barney Corman,

but he can't resist writing about it.

So, what do we know about
the guy under the bookcase?

Barney Corman was a minor figure

in New York literary circles.

He wrote reviews freelance

and owned Barney's Books bookstore,

which sold retail and
also dealt in rare editions.

So what's all that?

Oh, this is all
from the original police report.

Which was very thin.

GRACE: Yeah, it looked like

an accident...
a man crushed by old bookcases,

clutching a copy of Howards End,

in a room that was a health hazard.

ELSBETH: Barney's wife
had called the health department,

but nobody wanted to be in
close quarters with Templeton.

Templeton?

Oh, that's the name that Barney gave
to the rat who lived there.

Probably named after the rat
in Charlotte's Web.

Oh, I love that book.

Yeah. So, I asked

Elliott Pope some
totally innocent questions

at his book signing

and he lectured me about
caring too much about facts.

So he clearly doesn't want anyone to do

a close reading of this case.

So... can we?

Look,

as much as I try
to indulge your hunches,

which I admit, usually turn out right,

there's simply not enough there.
The man died 18 months ago.

Oh, come on.

A novelist and a critic
who grew up together?

That is fertile ground
for a literary feud.

Sure, like my feud with Cyrus Tully,

but I would never
go out and k*ll the man.

Well, that's you.

Elsbeth, your consent decree
doesn't include

creating new cases that don't exist.

But it does include pointing out cases

that may have been missed.
Or at least it should.

What do you think?

Me?

I'm tired of being in this position.

If you're convinced that this

is an actual m*rder case
worth investigating,

then I'll agree.

So what's it gonna be?

Well, I...

agree with Captain Wagner.

There's no hard evidence,

so there's not enough here.

Yet.

"Yet?"

Thank you, Lt. Connor.
That's all we need.

Boy, you can just

smell the literature. (LAUGHS)

Barney liked to think so.

Oh, you must miss him a lot.

More than when he was alive,
that's for sure.

So, you say you're with the police?

Sort of. I help to make sure
they do everything right.

They didn't do something right?

I don't know yet.

But there are some things

I wish were in the report
that aren't there.

Ooh, I should have pushed,

but they were so sure, and I figured

the storeroom was
a disaster waiting to happen.

I've kept it locked up

ever since.

Do you think I could take a look?

You're not afraid of rats?

Oh, no, I most definitely am.

Hmm.

Oh, oh. I have an idea.

That is one feisty little rat.

Oh. Oh, thank you

for not just k*lling him.

He was a friend of my husband's.

BRAD: Oh, no,
we never k*ll rats with names.

It's in our manifesto.

- Oh.
- JILL: We'll find Templeton

a good home in the wilds of New Jersey.

Thanks for calling us, Elsbeth.

You're always my first thought
when I see vermin.

Well, what are we waiting for?

Oh, they put the bookcases back up,

but everything else is just as it was.

What-what-what, exactly,

are you looking for?

I'm not quite sure...

yet.

But I just found it.

But the scratches on the footstool

were clearly made by the molding

on the top of the bookcase.

Footstool.

Bookcase.

Barney.

Somebody

must have dragged the footstool out from

under the bookcase after it fell.

Boom.

And if that's true,

then that somebody

m*rder*d Barney Corman.

Or...

Barney Corman

accidentally pushed out the footstool

in his confusion.

Ugh.

You enjoy doing this to me, don't you?

The report did mention a
witness who arrived at the store

at 6:40, but the sign
said it was closed.

But the store didn't close until 8:00.

so who turned the sign to "Closed?"

- Is that it?
- Isn't that enough?

Yes, I believe that is enough
to warrant a new investigation.

- All right!
- (LAUGHING)

So, uh, which detective should we go to?

WAGNER: No detective.

Since Lt. Connor is convinced,

he's gonna help you on the very cold

barely-a-case case.

Good enough for me.

So, uh, should we talk to Elliott Pope?

Edgar Bishop knew
the vultures of biography

were circling.

He needed a strategy to confound them.

But his mind was diverted by a woman

dressed in absurdly bright colors,

asking irritating
yet perceptive questions.

Who was she?

Everything I say here is off the record.

- What record?
- Any record.

From official precinct memoranda
to Teddy Tascioni.

Understood.

The election is now

a few days away and Alec, if he wins,

wants to hit the ground running.

So, what do you want from me?

Alec is choosing people

for important appointments
and he wants to know,

would you be interested
in being police commissioner?

Yeah.

Big stuff.

- (KNOCK ON DOOR)
- What?

Marissa. Hi.

What's this about?

- Nothing.
- We're asking him

- if he wants to be police commissioner.
- (GASPS)

I thought this was off the record.

Well, Alec trusts Elsbeth. Clearly.

Don't answer right away. Think about it.

But don't take too long.

Don't lead Alec on.

Be clear on what you want.

He deserves that.

Wow.

So, what are you gonna do?

I don't know yet.

Uh, what did you...

Oh. Uh, I really want
to question Elliott Pope,

but his agent refuses
all requests for interviews.

But you won't let that stop you.

I'll consider that your blessing.

Why, hello.

- You remember me?
- Actually, I do.

This isn't a coincidence,
is it, Elsbeth with a "B"?

- Oh, you're so smart.
- Mm.

No, I read how every workday,

you go to the place down the street

to get a tuna fish sandwich
just like the one

your mother used to make you.

Boy, you must think about
your mother a lot.

She's the only woman
who has never disappointed me.

Well, that's... sad.

Anyway, you mentioned
this little lunchtime ritual

in several interviews,
which is surprising for someone

who claims to treasure their privacy.

Is there something...
I don't know, specific

you want to talk to me about
or are you just attracted to me?

Oh.

The former.

- I work with the police.
- I heard.

And we're taking
another look at the death

of your friend Barney Corman.

We have evidence that suggests
that he was m*rder*d.

No. What new evidence?

Well, there were marks on a footstool

that was probably keeping
a bookcase from crushing him.

Someone must have yanked it away.

You don't say.

And a book dealer came by to pick up

a rare edition of Howards End,

but the store was closed too early.

Now, you knew Barney well,

you were together for an event
a few months beforehand.

Did he say anything
about any difficulties

that he may have been having?

Elsbeth, do you like Russian food?

Russian food?

Have dinner with me, hm?

At Gogol's. It's kind of my place.

Why do you want to have dinner with me?

I confess, I've been thinking about you

since we met.
I'd like to write about you.

And in order to do that,

I have to understand you.

I thought you don't write
about real people.

I don't, but, uh,

I need fodder for my imagination.

Okay, Elliott.

I will have dinner with you.

But just to be clear,
I'm not interested in romance.

Neither am I.

I've thought more about it.

And?

I'm interested.

The city would be lucky to have you.

Of course, if it happens,
I'll have to review

the department's use of consent decrees.

Oh, don't worry about that
on my account.

You've already done so much for me.

Bev Corman is here. She found something.

I was wondering about
the fax machine on Barney's desk.

I mean, why is he still
the only idiot using one?

Well, that's not necessarily suspicious.

Maybe.

But I put a new roll of paper in it

and it spit out a log

of all the faxes he sent over the years.

I figured maybe you could
find out who they went to.

I'm working on it.

He needed money.

Maybe he sent some

faxes to a loan shark
who-who k*lled him.

Oh, let's not jump to conclusions.

GRACE: Okay, I traced

a number that appears several times,

and it's listed as belonging to

a Maura Davidoff.

Who's Maura Davidoff?

Elliott Pope's first wife.

Barney Corman and me? Please.

I have some self-respect.

We thought perhaps Elliott
knew of your secret relationship

and was driven to m*rder.

Elliott wouldn't care if I'd cheated.

If anything, it would relieve his guilt

for his serial philandering.

The man's a hound, incapable of

relating to any woman without
trying to sleep with her.

Oh, dear.

Why do you think he works all alone

in that dreary office of his?

His publisher won't
let him hire any more

young female graduate students
to work for him.

Not since the lawsuits.

Lawsuits?

He kept taking them
to dinner at Gogol's.

He'd order schnapps,

you know the rest.

Well, it must have been hard
being married to him.

You can read all about it in my book,

Writer's Wife Strife.

Of course, the critics k*lled it.

It only sold 147 copies.

A hundred and forty-seven.

That sounds low.

I told the truth about our marriage,

unlike his novels.

But Elliott is
still a better writer than I am.

- Life isn't fair.
- Not usually, no.

So, if you weren't romantically involved

with Barney Corman,
why was he faxing you regularly?

He liked to send me
his reviews of Elliott's books.

He couldn't publish them
because he'd recused himself,

they made a big deal
about growing up together,

but he knew I'd get a kick out of them.

Because they were insightful?

Because they were vicious.

Did you, by chance, keep any?

CONNOR: These are extremely
uncharitable.

Is that how you spell "puerile?"

Hm, I guess it is.

Was Elliott Pope aware of these?

I have no way of knowing.

We don't speak.

We don't even
scream at each other anymore.

I've never heard of this one.

Troubled Pants.

It's the latest review,

but I've never heard of that book.

Wait, the cover sheet
says "Sneak Peek."

Could it have been a work in progress?

Possibly. People always begged Elliot
to read what he was working on.

He'd let them

when he needed that
extra hit of adulation.

Mm.

And you're sure you never
showed these to Elliott?

'Cause it seems like that would
have given you pleasure.

Yeah, well, I stopped
reading Barney's reviews

a few books ago.

I'm a bitter person,
but even I have my limits.

I don't know how much more
Elliott Pope I can read.

I want to take a shower
after every chapter.

He does present a somewhat
outdated form of masculinity.

One that's making a comeback.

Grace, welcome.

Hi. (LAUGHS)

Oh, you sweet thing.

I'm sorry I'm late.

I went to early voting.

- Oh. - Smart.
- GRACE: People on line

were very excited and nervous.

Looks like it's gonna be
a real nail-biter.

What do you think, Elsbeth...
you think Alec Bloom will win?

Ooh, yeah, has he given you
any inside info?

We're not here
to talk about the election.

We are here for

the Elliott Pope investigation
book club,

for which I have made his
favorite tuna fish sandwiches.

Oh, I love
book club theme food.

I followed his mother's recipe

in Couch Liar.

How are they?

They're good. Chewy.

CONNOR: I don't know if this is

something I would
write about for decades.

To be honest, you can get

a better sandwich
at the Massapequa diner

near his childhood home.

I did some research.

But, you know, these are good, too.

ELSBETH: Oh, no, you don't
have to finish them.

All right.

Has anyone found anything helpful?

I did. In the childhood section

of Sunday's Playhouse,

a friend of Eddie's Bishop's
stays at Eddie's place

when the other boy's parents split up.

Then Eddie gets jealous when his mother

compliments the other boy's penmanship.

Maybe that friend

from school was little Barney Corman.

GRACE: And we definitely

think that Eddie Bishop
is a stand-in for Elliott Pope?

Pope. Bishop.

Are published authors really that petty?

Oh, absolutely.

Yeah, being, uh, published
does something to you.

Every time I go into a bookstore,

I have to make sure that they're

"displaying my book" properly.

Well, I guess I'll have to find out more

in my dinner with
Elliott Pope on Tuesday.

What? I-Is that wise?

That's one way to avoid Alec
on election night.

No, Elsbeth, I have read enough
to know that any woman

should keep her distance from that man.

I can take care of myself.

I have met plenty of charming monsters.

And, yeah,

we'll both have the borscht.

Yep.

You didn't have to order for me.

You've never been here before,

so you don't know what you want.

- More schnapps?
- Actually,

I've had about enough schnapps

as I can handle.

So, Elsbeth.

Tell me about your hopes and dreams.

Well, before we get to those,

I wanted to show you something.

What do you got in there?

Well, these are photos

taken from events at Barney's Books,

before and after the night he died.

Here was...

a launch party before,

and here was a memorial
for Barney after.

You see?

See what?

ELSBETH: In the second photo,
the display of your books

is... different.

It's way more prominent.

Now, why would that be?

Well, maybe a fan thought

I wasn't getting the respect I deserve.

Or, more likely, uh,

Barney, uh, was reminded

of how much he revered my work
when we appeared together,

and wanted his customers to...

pay more attention.

See, that doesn't square

with the reviews
that Barney wrote of your books.

Yeah, well, Barney did not
write reviews of my books,

because of our history.

He actually did.

He just didn't publish them.

He sent them

to your first wife, Maura.

- He did?
- Mm-hmm.

She had them on that,
uh, curly fax paper,

but we made nicer copies
for the publisher.

- The publisher?
- Yes. Fred Harrison

- is helping us get these published.
- Oh.

They're so well-written,
and by an important critic

with such a close relationship
to your work.

And then the proceeds
will help shore up Bev

and the bookstore's finances.

Well, that's a win for everybody.

Right.

And to think, if Barney hadn't died,

these might never have come to light.

Well, this is, uh,

very, uh, illuminating.

I mean, I knew he was jealous.

I had no idea
he was so obsessed with me.

Right.

And you wrote a book about him.

Oh, uh, I was wondering
if you could help us.

The last one is of a thing

called Troubled Pants.

- What was that?
- Uh, that doesn't ring a bell.

Are you sure? 'Cause I feel like

- this might be important.
- (PEOPLE EXCLAIMING, CHEERING)

ALEC: We did it, New York!
It's a new day.

Thank you to all who worked so hard

to make this a reality.

ELLIOTT: Looks like
your pal Alec Bloom

just got elected mayor of New York City.

Everybody who worked on this campaign

showed tenacity

- and courage
- Yes.

- and an incredible faith in me.
- Looks like he did.

And to those people
who aren't in this room tonight,

who played such an important part

and made me a worthy candidate,

you know who you are.

Now let's celebrate!

Uh, maybe

after our chicken Kiev, we could
celebrate back at my place.

- Hmm.
- Hmm.

No.

Ah. Okay.

- A fire at Elliott Pope's?
- Fire Marshall Jake said

- it was very suspicious.
- Did he now?

Now, fortunately, no one was
hurt, but here's the thing.

The fire wasn't in the kitchen.

It was in his office, where he writes.

Clearly, my questions
at dinner struck a nerve.

- He was burning evidence.
- Okay. You got me. Do your thing.

You can send things to the lab.

But, Elsbeth, you have to prove

that Elliott was in the bookstore
the night that Barney Corman died.

ELSBETH: I brought you something.

I'm writing.

But you have to stop for... lunch.

And I saved you a trip
to your local sandwich shop.

- You mean you...
- A tuna fish sandwich,

exactly like your mother used
to make you.

I'm gonna be the judge of that.

You know, I have never, ever found

one even as half... as...

Oh, my God.

Oh, my...

- Oh, how did you...
- I didn't make it.

It's from the diner
near your childhood home,

which has been owned by
the same family for 75 years.

Well, what are you implying?

Oh. Oh, nothing.

Just that your mother
didn't make those sandwiches

when you came home from school.
She just pretended to.

Isn't that funny? (LAUGHS)

Oh. I'm sure she still loved you.

She went to the trouble of lying to you.

To think that all of those books

were written right here.

If you're looking
for the lost manuscript,

you're not going to find it.
I already looked.

Oh.

Gosh, I hope it didn't get destroyed

in that mysterious fire.

Hey, maybe it's in Barney's storeroom.

Have you ever been there?

I'm afraid of rats.

How do you know about Templeton
if you've never been there?

It's a small community, you know?

And it's a good story.

Yeah, but who told you?

It couldn't be one of
those female graduate students

who used to work for you,
because you're not allowed

to hire them anymore.

Well, that was one of
several misunderstandings.

It makes sense, though.

I've read your books.

You do have a pretty severe
women problem.

I beg your pardon.

I don't have a women problem.

I have a problem

with women like you,

you know, liars
who will do anything to trap me.

I know you're attracted to me,
and I remind you of your father.

- I'm not, and you don't.
- And you're disappointed

in every man you ever met, but you

will not tear me down.

I will remain

on the required reading list
and a giant in the canon!

Now, thank you
for the sandwich, Elsbeth.

Now get out.

Get out!

How was election night?

It looked exciting on TV.

Well, I was...

I was sorry you weren't there.

You deserved to win, Alec.
You ran a great campaign.

Especially at the end.

Because of you.

Thank you, Elsbeth,
for inspiring me, for...

pointing me down the...
the path of truth.

Forcing you is more like it. (LAUGHS)

Yes, but ever since you did,

I feel so much better
about what I'm doing,

my life, everything.

And I want this to continue,

with you by my side.

Oh. Alec.

Before you go any further,
I need to say something.

Okay.

I admire you,

what you've done, so much.

And I really do think you can be

a wonderful mayor.

Maybe you'll go even further than that.

Ah, well, one thing at a time.

You're right. Right.

But whatever you do...

it won't be with me.

Why?

I... I did what you asked.

I can't stop thinking about that night,

at the jungle restaurant,

when I asked, and you said, "Yes,

there was a guy named Pete."

You lied to me, right to my face.

Okay, but here's the thing.

I couldn't tell.

And that's kind of my thing.

And I understand what it is
to be a people pleaser.

I am one.

And that... that could be really great

for the people of New York,
but it won't work for me.

Elsbeth, uh,

politics is a...
a tricky business, and...

Yes, I know. (CHUCKLES)

Uh, been there, done that.

And maybe I'm being childish.

Maybe I'm expecting too much from a man,

from anyone,

but this is who I am.

What about... second chances?

Oh, Alec.

You got one.

Just not with me.

Come on, Gonzo. Poop already.

Don't push her.

She needs to do it her way.

What is it with you men?

You did the right thing, Mom. Really.

I don't know. Maybe now that
you're not dating the mayor-elect,

my editor will let me write
about politics again.

- Well, that's good.
- Mm-hmm.

- Oh, I hope I didn't make a mistake.
- Uh-uh.

Elliott Pope says
I find all men disappointing.

That's just a sign of intelligence.

- (LAUGHS LOUDLY)
- (LAUGHS)

Gonzo, you're lucky you're spayed.

- Mm-hmm.
- (LAUGHS)

Oh, there we go. We got a pooper.

Yes, I have the poop bag.

Ah. (CLEARS THROAT)

Ugh. These things are always
so hard to...

So, I'll introduce you,
you'll read a chapter,

and then the interview.

I know the drill.

Gosh. Boy,

for a reclusive author,
you sure do agree

to a lot of interviews.

I'm nominated for a National Book Award.

- Oh. That's very impressive.
- (LAUGHING): Oh.

But, unfortunately, there will be

no hit of adulation tonight.

And why is that?

Because you m*rder*d Barney Corman.

- Well, that's ridiculous.
- ELSBETH: You know, this case...

it got me back to reading more.

After I finished all of your books,

I moved on to Howards End,

the book that Barney was clutching
before he was crushed.

Oh, Forster writes
female characters so well.

Oh, it's like he thinks of them

as fully-dimensional human beings.

ELSBETH: I was also struck

by the death of Leonard Bast at the end,

you know, when Charles Wilcox

hits him with a sword,

and then a bookcase falls on him.

Sort of like an avalanche?

CONNOR: "Bast" is a fiber used
to make rope.

The character in Snow Falls Down
is Marty Roper.

These stupid word games...
they don't prove a thing.

Okay, you're right. You're right.

We needed real proof

that you k*lled Barney
in the storeroom that night.

Proof like your DNA

on that copy of Howards End,

the copy that Barney took
from his safe deposit box

the day he died.

- And sure enough, we found it.
- ELLIOTT: And how?

I mean, you don't have my DNA.

You have

an interesting habit of...

licking your thumb

every time you turn a page.

You probably don't even notice
that you're doing it.

But you did it
when you signed my copy of

Snow Falls Down,

and you did it

when you thumbed through
Barney's precious edition

of Howards End
just before you k*lled him.

In fact, we found your saliva
on the pages

where Leonard Bast dies
under a bookcase.

Boy...

you're not very good
at making things up,

- are you?
- CONNOR: Elliott Pope,

you are under arrest
for the m*rder of Barney Corman.

My lies have won me a shelf full
of prizes.

What have yours gotten you? Hmm?

WAGNER: I have to hand it to you.
Not only did you solve a m*rder,

but you found an excellent
source for tuna fish sandwiches.

Right? No wonder
he thought his mother was magic.

I wonder if this was the kind
of sandwich that

Pete from the MTA gave
the Young Alec Bloom.

There was no Pete.

Or maybe there was.

Are we still on this?

Marissa. Pull up a sandwich.

I can't stay. I have news.

Alec picked someone else
to be commissioner.

What? How can that be?

Who got the job?

Captain Cyrus Tully.

- Oh. (LAUGHS)
- That's ridiculous.

That man is an unhinged bully.

Alec feels he needs someone
who projects toughness

because people think he doesn't.

Wait. Marissa,
does this have anything to do

with what happened between Alec and me?

These things are never that simple.

- I'm sorry.
- It's okay.

Police commissioner
is a pretty thankless job.

I just wanted to be considered,
and I was.

This new mayor won't be in there
forever, will he?

No. Just for the time being.

And it is nice to have a friend
at Gracie Mansion.

Is Alec still a friend?

We'll see.

But you will have
at least one friend there.

See you around.