Get a Clue Page #5

- Hey, you think I could change my name?

- Sure, why not?

Okay, you guys,

let's review today's developments.

Now, we saw Miss Stern

leave Mr. Walker...

Petrossian's apartment in Brooklyn,

where a dubious detective

claimed to be "on the case. "

Goldblum was in

Miss Dawson's apartment.

And some homeless guy in Brooklyn

was wearing Mr. Walker's jacket.

That is so bizarre.

Oh, what was Miss Stern wearing?

It was hard to tell.

Excuse me. Who cares?

- Can we continue?

- Whatever.

- Go right ahead.

- Okay.

We don't know why Miss Stern

was at Mr. Walker's apartment.

Let's not forget she had an argument

with Mr. Walker before he disappeared.

- Yeah.

- Totally fishy.

My thought exactly, Jen.

Now, this detective, it was...

Well, what's wrong with him?

Well, nothing really.

He was just sort of creepy,

and he dressed way too

flashy to be a detective.

Cameron Diaz dressed pretty

flashy in Charlie's Angels.

Jen...

Okay. It looks like

Mr. Goldblum is somehow, uh...

...involved with Miss Dawson?

But yesterday,

Mr. Walker broke her heart.

- And then she threatened him.

- Juicy, isn't it?

Maybe Goldblum and Dawson

conspired to get rid of Walker.

What's their motive?

Because he was at Dawson's house...

With his arm around her.

Mm-hmm.

He was jealous.

But how do we explain

this homeless guy?

I don't know, but there

can't be more than one

hideous Aussie coat

like that in New York City.

Maybe the guy just found it.

- No way.

- What you got here, Jack?

I ran a search on Petrossian, and

this came up in The Arizona Dispatch.

"Nicholas Petrossian, a banker,

mysteriously disappeared,

and he may be dead.

Recently, he was charged

with fraud and embezzlement. "

"Petrossian is survived by his

mother who resides in Brighton Beach. "

I say we pay her a visit.

Sure. I'll work on

getting her address.

You should have seen my outfit. It was

so cute that everyone stared at me.

I wore these adorable

black Capri pants

with this leopard-print T-shirt

and these chunky shoes...

Hmm. Maybe I've

underestimated Jack all this time.

I mean, there's a lot more

to him than I thought.

It must be hard for him to go

to school so far from home.

And with his brother gone

and his dad...

I don't know what I'd do without my dad.

But his mom's really sweet.

I'd call them your classic

Mary-Janes, with thick soles,

a Velcro strap and square toes.

Your basic Prada knockoffs.

He always seems to be alone.

I wonder who his best friend is.

I really like

spending time with Jack.

Oop! Oh, my gosh!

What am I saying?

- I got it.

- What?

Mrs. Petrossian's address.

Are you serious?

How'd you do that?

I used a little Brooklyn common

sense. I checked the phone book.

- No way.

- Way.

Yeah, she was listed

in the white pages.

I think we should

go after school.

- Okay.

- All right.

- I knew it.

- What?

Come on, Jen. This is work.

- You mean, it's working.

- What's working?

You so like Jack.

Can't you just admit it?

That's it right over there.

Oh, how cute!

They have a wishing well.

Hi. Sorry to bother you, ma'am.

We're looking for the mother

of a Nicholas Petrossian.

There's no one here by that name.

It's not a name you forget.

Maybe if you give it thought...

I'm sorry.

- Let 'em in.

- What are you thinking?

- They're okay, Mom.

- Don't do this.

Mr. Walker!

Come on.

Would you care for something?

The eel is wonderful.

Very fresh. I'd say it was

swimming around this morning.

Oh, no, thank you.

- Hmm?

- I just ate.

Okay.

Yeah.

That's a stunning

pendant you're wearing.

Oh, yeah? Well, thank you.

Years ago, I found it in

a little junk shop outside Reno.

I bought it with

the nickels I won on the slots.

I can't believe

you're alive, Mr. Walker.

We were thinking the worst.

Yeah, what's going on,

Mr. Walker?

Well, it's complicated.

I tried to talk him out of this,

but he's just as

stubborn as his father was.

You don't want

to get me started.

- Thank you, Mom.

- Yeah.

Do you wanna fill us in on

the fraud and embezzlement

you were charged with in '87?

We found out about that.

I shouldn't be surprised.

You've always done your homework.

But I'm not guilty. I was framed.

Oh, you can say that again.

Back in the '80s,

I was a young, eager banker in Arizona,

working hard, trying to claw

my way up the corporate ladder.

I had just landed a really big,

important account,

and everyone started taking

notice, especially Granville.

I was on top of the world.

Gentlemen!

Who's Granville?

Oh, he was my boss.

I never liked that man.

Mother, please.

Aces!

Well, it was

short-lived, anyway.

Very soon after,

somebody stole $ 10 million

out of that new account

and put it into

a foreign account in my name.

I was framed for the theft.

Why didn't you withdraw

and turn it to the police?

Well, I immediately went to do

that, but the account was empty.

And you never found out

who framed you?

No. Lots of people

had access to the account.

What about the money?

No idea where it went?

Not a clue.

I sure wish I did, though.

How does $10 million

just disappear?

I knew that the police

would soon show up, so I ran,

but someone came after me

and stalked me for months,

leaving me

threatening messages,

accusing me of robbing

the foreign account.

Someday,

the person who did this

is gonna get a piece of my mind.

He's gonna regret

the day he was born.

It was a nightmare.

I had to take drastic action,

and I faked my own death

in order to shake off my pursuer.

Nicholas Petrossian was kaput.

And you created a whole new you.

Yeah.

Uh, Orlando Walker was a teacher

who had died the year

before I came to town.

When I acquired his identity,

I became a teacher too.

And I loved it, you know?

I settled into my new life and...

...things went back to normal.

- Then I met Miss Dawson.

- Oh, she's the bee's knees.

- Egg salad?

- Pumpernickel.

My favorite!

I went head over heels.

And everything was going great

until Lexy's article

appeared in the newspaper.

Oh, my gosh. You were found

because of my picture.

I'm so sorry, Mr. Walker. I never

had any intentions of hurting you.

I know you didn't, Lexy.

Anyway, that afternoon,

I felt somebody was following me.

And when I got home,

I found this note.

It had rained

and the ink smudged,

so it's hard to read.

"I know who you are.

...under the palm...

...lobby at... hotel,

Saturday... at 2 p. m.

You'll pay. If you don't pay,

your girlfriend will. "

You're being blackmailed,

Mr. Walker.

It looks like you're supposed to show up

at some hotel on Saturday at 2 p. m.

If you don't, something

might happen to Miss Dawson.

And I have to figure out

what hotel that is.

- Do you know who wrote this note?

- Whoever framed me way back when.

We can't assume anyone is innocent until

we have this mystery person cornered.

If we find out what lobby

we're supposed to be at,

- we can find the mystery person.

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