Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I don't care. Aunt Jessica, tell her.

You're getting some ugly shadows under your chins.

Oh, I doubt it.

[Chuckles] Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, you're a nice lady,

That was great. That was... I really enjoyed that, you know? You're quite a performer.

Whatever. My client was onstage when Drake was killed.

the star of our show, that lovely chanteuse,

What? That it was just a job.

of what I had to do to earn that money, but I did it.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher. I'm so happy to see that you're satisfied.

It's a very important client. They can't all be that important.

Oh, no, no. Thank you. Oh, you're looking so much better, Mr. York.

Doesn't look like I'm gonna be goin'.

- Monday? - What happened with real estate?

Michelle Dupont!

- Why did you rig that? - Why don't you ask her?

Well, I did... for almost six months, but...

It's my luck. It's my dumb luck.

How could Howard afford to bring her to a place like this?

No. Whoever killed Drake used a pillow to muffle the sound of the shot.

Well, I hope they're doing a good job for you.

[Telephone Ringing] [Clears Throat] Yeah?

Then he's well enough to receive visitors. How nice.

Victoria, have you noticed there's something a little strange about this place?

New York? You sure? Great work, Ralph. Thanks.

What were you trying to do? Kill me? Aha! You moved.

Excuse me. Mr. Drake?

?There's a somebody I'm longin' to see ?

She said, "I'd like to, but I'm married." I said, " Come anyway.

Intimate. I see.

Lieutenant Novak, I've been waiting several hours outside there.

I'll tell you what. I'll split a bouquet with you. Pick whatever kind of flowers you want.

[Gunshot] Oh, dear. I heard that.

You didn't come up here and wake me up to tell me we're holding the wrong man?

- Howard's aunt... almost. - Uh, right, right.

For your own peace of mind, I think you have to.

Ms. Fletcher, so delighted you could join us this evening.

These are police photographs. Where did you get them? Your partner, Charlie.

It's too bad it's wasted in a dump like this, huh? I wouldn't call this a dump.

Oh, uh, J.B. Fletcher, isn't it? Hi. Bill Patterson.

Oh, Vicky, I'm sorry, honey. I wanted to tell you, I really did.

He gave me a shot.

I think I'd like a glass of white wine. I think I'll have the same.

Look, I don't know how to explain this,