A Kind of Murder Page #3

I drove around for a while.

Did you ever reach your friend?

Yes.

I'll need his name and address.

Ellie Briess,

38 Cornelia street,

it's in the village.

So, they have my name?

I hope they won't blame me.

No. She always

had mental problems.

Neurotic, jealous.

Oh, hi Martha.

Ah, Jesus.

No. How awful.

Poor Mr. Stackhouse.

Do... do they know what happened?

Yeah.

Bye.

I didn't think I should

tell Martha you were here.

Good day, Mr. Kimmel.

Stackhouse.

Walter Stackhouse.

Walter Stackhouse.

Walter Stackhouse.

I'm not open today. I'm sorry.

It's me.

Detective Corby.

I think we need to talk.

Did you read a story

in today's local paper

about a woman who

died at Harry's rainbow grill?

Yes, I did in fact.

A bit of a coincidence,

don't you think?

What are you saying?

Well...

Your wife...

And now some other...

Poor man's wife.

What was his name?

I have no idea.

The paper said it

was a suicide most...

The husband's name

was Stackhouse.

Walter Stackhouse.

He's under investigation.

Just like you are, Mr. Kimmel.

Statistics tend to make me

suspicious of husbands.

And I love statistics.

What specifically did you

want to ask me, detective?

You know.

I've been going over your

wife's case again and again.

Your movie alibi...

It bothers me.

Anthony has given his statement.

Anthony Ricco...

Seventeen...

Young...

I'm talking to him regularly.

All your colleagues know

me very well, detective.

So I believe, and I wanna

get to know you better myself.

You know.

We've got a lot in common.

My family comes from Newark.

We can't let your wife's killer

get away with it, can we?

I'll be in touch again soon.

Thank you for your time,

Mr. Kimmel.

Hello?

Tony?

You wanna come over

for some beers this evening?

It was her choice.

Wasn't it?

Of course it was.

You can't blame yourself.

I mean, you tried everything.

Did I? Did I really?

What's the difference

between wishing someone dead

and actually

doing something about it?

One hell of a difference.

- What are you talking about?

- No, uh...

I don't know.

I honestly don't know anymore.

Morning, Claudia.

I'm sorry.

I don't want to

work here anymore,

Mr. Stackhouse.

I've come

to collect a few things.

There's no reason

for you to leave.

Okay.

I understand.

If that's the way

you prefer to handle things.

I don't want anything.

I'm sorry, Mr. Stackhouse.

Truly.

Mr. Stackhouse,

please have a seat.

This is Mr. de Vries.

Have you ever met

Mr. de Vries before?

I don't think so. No.

Well?

Yeah. That's him.

I never forget a face.

That's him.

- Everyone I know always says...

- That's fine.

Thank you, Mr. de Vries.

You can go now.

So.

Mr. de Vries says he spoke

to you at Harry's rainbow grill.

You asked him

how long the bus stopped,

the night your wife died.

Yes, I was there.

I...

Followed the bus.

I wanted to talk to Clara.

And did you?

No. I couldn't find her.

I looked everywhere.

Why didn't you tell us this?

Thought she got off

at one of the other stops

on the way.

Had some other plan.

So, your story about

driving around, was...

Yes. It was very stupid of me.

I should have told you.

Well.

You better tell me now.

Exactly what did happen?

Cigarette?

Well.

I felt...

I felt we had to

finish something.

You'd been arguing?

No.

Just a question

of finishing something...

Important

that we were discussing.

Were you

and Mrs. Stackhouse happy?

Actually,

we were getting a divorce.

Did you both want this divorce?

In all honesty,

she didn't want a divorce,

but she knew there was

nothing she could do

- to stop me from getting one.

- Seems she tried.

I followed up on those

previous attempts that she made.

Can you prove suicide

in this sort of case?

Coming off a bridge that high,

with so many injuries,

it's hard to get a consensus.

But I just like to eliminate

all the other possibilities.

One more thing.

Did you ever hear about

another woman's body found

near Harry's rainbow grill?

It happened not too long ago.

She was badly beaten.

Knifed.

She was definitely murdered.

No. I didn't.

Kimmel.

Helen Kimmel.

No.

I'm working that case too.

I haven't found the killer yet.

Well.

Thank you very much for coming

in. I'll be in touch soon.

Where are those Martinis?

Coming right up.

You ever been to Paris?

Of course. Have you?

No. I haven't.

All architects

ought to go to Paris.

- And all writers have to go...

- I know.

Somehow I never

got around to it.

Well.

It's still there.

It's that

goddamn detective Corby.

Um.

You know.

Maybe it's better

if you weren't around.

Just come with me.

Let's go downstairs.

Okay.

He won't stay long.

This is weird.

Good evening, Mr. Stackhouse.

Do you have a moment?

Yeah. Come on in.

I've interrupted you.

I can only apologize

yet again.

What did you wanna say?

I talked to Kimmel.

- Kimmel?

- The man whose wife was killed

at Harry's rainbow grill.

- Oh. Yes.

- I'm convinced he's guilty.

So why tell me? I've...

Everyone thinks it was some

sort of random maniac. But...

You've given me ideas.

Is this house your own design?

Very...

Adult.

Would you be willing

to show me around?

Sure.

Let's start back here.

Just my den.

May I? I'd like to

complete the picture.

Nice.

I like this.

What's this?

It's a kind of scrapbook.

Ideas. Pictures and things I

cut out of newspapers, you know?

They're my clippings.

Crazy stuff.

Inspirations for my

short stories that I write.

Maybe one day

I'll write a novel.

Who knows.

Quite a hobby.

This is about Kimmel.

Is it?

My god.

You cut it out?

I must have. I don't remember.

I've hundreds of cuttings

of all sorts.

I just cut things out.

You've never actually

met Kimmel? Have you?

Me? Kimmel? God no.

This doesn't look too good

for you, Mr. Stackhouse.

I don't like it.

I followed

Clara's bus to the rest stop.

I waited...

Looking all over for her

till the bus left.

And then I came home.

So you...

Knew she was missing and...

When you came to see me?

And later we...

Well, I couldn't understand it.

When she didn't get back on,

I thought maybe she'd

gotten off earlier.

Anyway. It was stupid of me.

She might have had

some crazy plan.

She knew where you lived.

She'd followed me there before.

The trouble is...

I was seen...

At the rest stop.

They might try to make

something of it. That's all.

Make something of it?

What are you talking about?

What are they gonna make of it?

- Walter, you're scaring me.

- No, don't be scared.

I haven't done anything.

But it could seem strange

that I followed her bus.

I don't know why I did it.

What will seem strange

is that you didn't tell

the police right away.

You told a stupid lie.

You panicked. Pure and simple.

Big deal.

You were in shock,

for god's sake.

I reckon once they check out

Clara's history it'll be over.

So just relax.

Though it might not be

a bad idea to get an attorney.

No. I...

No.

That'd make it look like

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