The Game is Over By Eric Paddon Before the game show went prime-time, before Regis Philbin eclipsed Alex Trubek as a household name, before not-so-genial hosts began to hector and belittle the weak links who'd come begging to them for dollars, housewives, second-shifters, seniors, and others of the stay-at-home crowd would gather before the Magnavox and watch Allen Ludden, Gene Rayburn, Art Fleming, Peter Marshall, and their brethren challenge the wits of America. The great American game show was the lively, refreshing palate-cleanser after a day of vein-cloggingly overheated soaps. Bob Barker is among the last of a tooth-capped, blow-dried, snappy comeback-filled breed -- the kind of guy who'd give you nothing more than a case of Carnuba Wax and the home version of the game and send you away with a sappy grin still on your face, all before noon. Today, the great game shows have been replaced with Maury and Jenny and Montel and squadrons of angry droopy-drawered skinheads and anguished mothers and sobbing overweight girlfriends and jeering jackal audiences howling for more. The prime-time game show has become the last refuge of the guy or gal who can barely squeak through a game of Scrabble without blowing a few dozen brain circuits. Like co-dependent parents, Regis and his ilk let these flimsy links narrow down answers and cry for the audience for help and phone home for clues. It ain't your father's Concentration. There's a parallel here. While the quizmasters of yesteryear have been forced to hang up their loud ties and lapel mikes, our good lieutenant has been replaced as a morning cable staple by the likes of that sweet but somewhat simple mystery writer from Cabot's Cove and that hunky but thick-craniumed Hawaiian eye (A&E, you listening?). So it's perhaps appropriate that our former favorite Monday morning cop investigate murder in that most endangered of A.M. ecosystems -- the daytime game show. You ready? That your final answer? Eric Paddon teaches history at Illinois' Wheaton College, and has written a number of Battlestar Galactica fanfics, including a 450-page crossover with the "Planet Of The Apes" universe..

[Opening shot of a television screen. A colorful, elaborate set is depicted. In bold words, the show's title, "Winning Streak," is imposed.]

ANNOUNCER (voiceover): From Hollywood, it's television's exciting new game where you can win over $100,000 dollars, Winning Streak! (Studio applause goes up). And here's the star of our show, John Wyatt!

[JOHN WYATT emerges at a brisk pace and takes his place behind his emcee's podium. He is a stately, professorial looking man in his mid-50s with silver hair and horn-rimmed glasses]

WYATT: Thank you very much, John Harlan, and welcome to Winning Streak. This is the show where a contestant just by showing some quick knowledge of words can get him or herself on a winning streak and win over $100,000 dollars. And right now, we've got ourselves a champion who when time ran out on our last show, was in our bonus round with a chance to shoot for that big money. Let's say hello again to Eileen Wesson!

[Studio applause goes up as camera now shows the nervous, bespectacled countenance of EILEEN WESSON, a middle-aged housewife who looks as "ordinary" as a person can]

WYATT: Eileen, you won yourself a very tough match on yesterday's show as time ran out. Won yourself $500 for doing that, and now you've got a chance to win some really big money in our Winning Streak bonus round. Got to feel exciting, doesn't it?

EILEEN: Oh it does, John. I just can't believe it!

WYATT: Well, you just relax and let's get to that bonus round, right now! (He motions to his side and curtains open to reveal a giant board). Now Eileen, as you know the first order of business is to pick a starting dollar amount from among the numbers 1 to 20 on our board. That'll determine the first value of the first word you'll be attempting to form. Pick a number now.

EILEEN: 16.

WYATT: Number 16 reveals...$300! That will be the value of the first word you have to come up, and now before naming that word, we have to have you pick a letter, which is done randomly as our board starts flashing various letters across the screen. (The electronic board is now flashing a series of letters in the alphabet). Okay Eileen, whenever you're ready hit that plunger! (She presses it). And it's the letter R! Okay, Eileen, for $300, just give me any word with the letter 'r'.

EILEEN (Smiling sheepishly): Are.

WYATT: Of course! Starting out short and simple. Okay, you've won $300. That means the value of your next word doubles to a potential $600 if you want to pick another letter and go on. What'll it be, Eileen?

EILEEN: Oh, I'm going!

WYATT: Then you hit the plunger again. And it stops on the letter, 'a'. Okay, Eileen, for $600, give me a word with the letters 'r' and 'a'.

EILEEN: Arm.

WYATT: You now have $600! (Applause). What'll it be now, Eileen? Quit with $600 or go on? (Audience is shouting "Go!")

EILEEN: I'm going, John.

WYATT: Okay, get ready with your plunger again. And a reminder: If you fail to come up with a word, or repeat a word used before, or use a word deemed unacceptable by our judge, you lose all your winnings to this point. And the plunger comes up on the letter 'm.' Okay Eileen, for $1,200, give me a word with the letters, 'a', 'r' and 'm.'

EILEEN: (hesitates for an instant as she remembers that "arm" is not acceptable). Um.....oh, armor!

WYATT: Right! (Applause) You wanted to say 'arm' again, but you knew you couldn't! Okay, Eileen, decision time, stop with $1,200, or go on?

EILEEN (again hesitates slightly): Oh, I guess I'll try again, John.

WYATT: All right, letters in motion, hit your plunger and it comes up, letter 'h.' H. Eileen, for $2,400, give me any word with the letters 'a', 'r', 'm' and 'h.'

EILEEN: (Two seconds of anxious silence go by). Hammer.

WYATT: Yes! (Applause). Two thousand, four hundred dollars is now yours to keep if you decide to quit now. Your next word would be worth $4,800. (The chorus of "GOs!" is deafening)

EILEEN: Oh....gosh, it's just too tough for me to take that kind of risk my first time. I'm going to stop.

WYATT: Okay, you're going to stop, and Eileen, in doing that you win $2400, added to your previous winnings gives you a grand total of $2900! And you'll of course get to continue in a new match against a new opponent, right after we take time out for this commercial message.

(Music goes up as camera pulls back from WYATT).

[A montage follows of the next match and another bonus round, covering the next twenty minutes of the show]

WYATT: Well, that's all the time we have for today, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you'll all be back with us tomorrow when once again, we'll find out who's going on a Winning Streak! See ya then! (Waves to audience as camera pulls back, theme music swells up, and applause erupts)

ANNOUNCER (voiceover): Winning Streak is a John Wyatt and Fred Williamson Production.
 

Scene Two

[The set. WYATT steps down from podium and heads backstage, passing a stagehand]

STAGEHAND: Thirty minutes to the next taping, Mr. Wyatt.

WYATT: Right. (Continues to walk down the hallway, and removes his beige sport jacket. He folds it over his arm as his director, MIKE HELLER, approaches him)

HELLER: John, you've got to stop wearing those light jackets on the air.

WYATT (Not looking at him as they walk): We've been over this a million times, Mike.

HELLER: Look, ever since your hair turned white, those jackets make you look washed out on the air. Wear dark blue, for crying out loud. Dark blue!

WYATT (Sarcastically): Okay, mother. (Heller departs and Wyatt continues to walk down the hallway, turning a corridor and into the office area of the studios. Comes to the door with his name on it, and as he opens it, the young gofer JIM, who acts as his personal assistant, sprints up to him carrying a video tape)

JIM: Here's the tape of the show, Mr. Wyatt.

WYATT: Thanks, Jim. (Takes it and then hands his jacket to him) Get this down so its ready for the taping after the next one. They can send up the dark blue one for contrast just for the next show.

JIM: Yes sir, I'll have it up here in about half an hour.

[WYATT closes his office door, and calmly makes his way over to his desk. We can see several Emmy Awards lining the shelves as well as photographs of Wyatt with numerous celebrities who have appeared on past game shows that he's hosted. Also the logos of those earlier shows line the walls with titles like 'What's The Secret?', 'Jackpot!', 'Get The Message', and 'I'm Telling You', with the bold logo of 'Wyatt: Williamson Productions' under each of them. He opens the drawer and first pulls out a pair of thin leather gloves that he puts on. Then he removes a small bottle that we can immediately tell is poison. He calmly places the vial in his pants pocket, then picks up the video tape and puts it in the machine across from his desk. Immediately, the sounds of the program just taped fill the room. As this goes on, he casually raises the window to his office which looks out into an empty back parking area of the studio. He gingerly steps out and into the grass bordering the parking area and makes his way down to the window three spaces over from his office. He comes up and taps on it. A few seconds later, it raises up and we see the puzzled face of FRED WILLIAMSON, the co: producer of 'Winning Streak.' He is at least ten years older than WYATT, wearing a casual sports shirt]

WILLIAMSON: John? What the hell are you doing out there?

WYATT: I don't want any of the staff to know we're having a big meeting right now, Fred. Let me come in and they'll just think I'm still in my office reviewing the last program.

WILLIAMSON: Why bother? You and I have meetings all the time.

WYATT: Not about the kind of thing you had the nerve to phone me about before you came out from New York. Now damn it, let me come in and let's have this out once and for all.

WILLIAMSON: (Smiles wryly) Okay, Professor. Come on in. (He extends his hand and helps Wyatt climb into the office, which is less elaborate than Wyatt's. It too has several Emmy Awards, but there are no reminders of the earlier game shows they have produced. A computer and printer system sits next to his desk). A man your age really shouldn't be climbing into office windows unless it's to have a tryst with a beautiful secretary.

WYATT (Gently brushes himself and settles into a chair): Cut the crap, Fred. Let's just get straight to the point right now.

WILLIAMSON (Laughs and pulls out a bottle of scotch from a cabinet and settles down behind his desk): You know what your problem is, John? In all the years I've known you, you've never learned how to relax just once. Your whole life's always been wrapped up in every little ridiculous game show we've put on the air.

WYATT (Bristles with anger): They aren't ridiculous! They've been good to you and me for more than thirty years and you know that!

WILLIAMSON (Breaks out two glasses and pours): Yes, yes, they have been. Our beautiful children through the years. You came up with the game concepts and hosted the shows, and I provided the financial backing and handled all the behind the scenes sales deals, and also knew how to sweet talk the network execs into putting us on the air. We were a great team. But John, you have to face facts. Game shows on daytime TV are dead. They're dinosaurs. A relic of a bygone era of television, like the fifteen-minute evening news and the variety show. You've just got to face the reality.

WYATT: You're wrong, Fred. This one is different. It's got the potential to be...

WILLIAMSON (Interrupting): To be just as big a flop as the last two game shows we've done. Debuted with fanfare and then gone in 13 weeks. And this show's format is so stupid I think you should get a gold medal just for prodding the network into giving you a 26-week committment for it. (Shakes his head) But I've seen the Nielsens, John, and they're just as bad as they've always been. It's only a matter of time before the end comes for this show, and when that happens that's it as far as our careers in game shows go.

WYATT: Damn it Fred, you can't do this.

WILLIAMSON: You have to face the reality, John! Look, it took me a long time to face it too, but at least I've done it now. Until a few days ago, I wasn't able to look back at things with real perspective, but now I can. (Drinks from his glass). Thirty years ago, when we got together, I knew that game shows were what the public wanted to see and I was glad to hook up with you. And we were a great team because we always knew how to adapt ourselves to changing tastes over the years. When we started, the panel shows were the big thing, so our first hit was a panel show. Then, when all the big money quiz shows like $64,000 Question were the rage, God bless you John, you and Mark Goodson were the only two guys in the business who realized those shows weren't on the level so you got us out of them in the nick of time and we were unaffected by the fallout from the scandals. Then came the word games where everything had to be a knockoff of Password, and we made a bundle off of them. But now, all the people who grew up watching our game shows are either dead or part of the surgical stocking set. The average housewife now wants to spend her daytime TV viewing hours watching some idiot soap opera or a sleazy talk show about lesbian nuns. They don't give a damn about watching some ordinary schmo win a bundle of money playing a silly game. I know that's tough to admit John, but our time has past. It's time we just accept that and move on.

WYATT: To what? Damn it Fred, the only job I feel alive in is being a game show emcee.

WILLIAMSON (Shakes his head sadly): And that's your problem, John. Not mine. You were the one who always wrapped yourself up in creating game show concepts and then going out and hosting them and appearing before the public that you never gave yourself time to have a normal life. No wife, no kids, no real close friends beyond the narrow world of broadcasting. Now me, I did my job well, but I also took time to enjoy life. Had a good marriage for 20 years, raised a beautiful daughter who just gave birth to my first grandchild. A boy in fact. Did I tell you about that?

WYATT (Sarcastically): Yes. Congratulations.

WILLIAMSON: (Smiles) Thank you. They'll be naming him after our old announcer on 'What's The Secret', Bob Fenton, God rest his soul. (Pours another glass of scotch) So you see, John, I have a lot to be grateful to the world of game shows for. But now that I've got a grandson I want to spend some time with, facing the reality that our time has past isn't the end of the world to me as it might have seemed not long ago. And that's why when 'Winning Streak' is inevitably cancelled, I am saying goodbye to the world of game show production forever.

WYATT (Looks desperate): You can't do this to me, Fred. Without you, I couldn't ever get another game show mounted.

WILLIAMSON: Maybe not. But that's your problem, John. Not mine.

WYATT: And I suppose it doesn't mean a damn to you that if you pulled out and left this organization without any funds, that a lot of good people on our staff who've been with us for many years are going to be out of work.

WILLIAMSON (Glares at him with contempt): Oh come on, John. They're pros in the business. They can get work in an instant. You're only concerned about yourself, and the fact that you'd have to spread your wings for a change in something else. You keep forgetting that you're an intelligent man who can do more than emcee a silly game show. You could have your own radio show, you could teach your own class in broadcasting at any college in the country.

WYATT: I'll thank you not to dictate how I should run my life.

WILLIAMSON (Coldly): And you're not going to dictate how to run my life any longer, John. I'll stay with Winning Streak for as long as it stays on the air because I'm a man who honors his commitments. But after that, no more. So you'd better just start praying for an upswing in the Nielsens on this baby because it's the last Wyatt: Williamson Production that will ever air on television.

WYATT (Becomes seemingly calmer as he stares at his partner for a minute): Can you bring that first Emmy of ours over here?

WILLIAMSON (Rises): Sure.

[As WILLIAMSON walks to the other side of the room to retrieve one of the Emmy statues, WYATT quickly removes the vial from his pocket, unscrews the cap and hastily dumps the contents into the nearly full glass of scotch. He shoves it back in his pocket just as WILLIAMSON returns to the desk holding the Emmy Award]

WILLIAMSON: This was what started it all. The Emmy for best quiz or panel show, 'What's The Secret?'. (Smiles wryly at him) Feeling sentimental all of a sudden?

WYATT: In a way. (Watches carefully, wondering when he's going to finally take his drink) We could have recaptured those glory days, Fred.

WILLIAMSON: They're over. (Picks up his glass and drinks. He downs it in two swallows. When he sets the glass down, he frowns as he sees Wyatt smiling maliciously at him).

WYATT: They're not over for me, Fred. Only for you.

[Before WILLIAMSON can respond, his face grows ashen. He gasps, reaches for his throat and begins to make choking sounds]

WYATT: Goodbye partner. Sorry it had to end like this.

[WILLIAMSON collapses across the desk face down, the glass falling from his hand and goes limp. Abruptly, WYATT gets to his feet, pulls out the empty vial and sets it near Williamson's right hand on the desk, remembering to place Williamson's fingers once on the vial before doing so. He takes the Emmy Award and returns it to the shelf; He then goes around behind the desk and crouching by the chair, begins to do some frantic typing on the computer. A close-up of the monitor reveals the words being typed out:

"Winning Streak is finished. End of line for career. Not worth pursuing any longer. "

WYATT then adjusts the clock on the computer to a time thirty minutes later and prints out the suicide note he's just typed. When it comes out of the machine, he glances down and makes sure the time printout at the bottom of the page is there. Leaving it in the printer receptacle, he readjusts the computer clock to the correct time and then quietly goes to the open window and climbs out back into the empty parking area. He sprints quickly back to his own office window and with a bit of effort climbs back in. Within two minutes, he is seated behind his own desk, where the tape of the previous program is still playing on his TV. He is watching in contemplation, when there is a knock on his door again.]

WYATT (Sounding irritated): Yeah?

JIM (offscreen): Back with your coat, Mr. Wyatt. Five minutes to taping.

[WYATT gets up and then throws open his office door and fixes JIM with the coldest expression]

WYATT: Jim, do you notice that I am still watching the last show's tape? What is it I've been telling you that you are not to bother me until that's done, which is always 22 minutes after you close this door?

JIM (Flustered): Uh, sorry Mr. Wyatt, I: : : :

WYATT: I'll let this go just once, Jim, but never again. Is that understood? (Grabs the dark blue sports jacket from him and puts it on)

JIM: Yes sir, Mr. Wyatt. Sorry sir.

[Wyatt walks down the hallway back toward the studio. Straightens his jacket as he gets into position, waiting for his cue.]

HELLER: (Off: screen): Ready?

WYATT: Ready, Mike.

HELLER: Okay. And thanks for wearing the dark jacket!

WYATT: Anything to keep you happy, mother.

HELLER (To technicians): Stand by! Cue theme! (Theme music begins again)

ANNOUNCER (voiceover): From Hollywood, it's television's exciting new game, where you can win over $100,000 - Winning Streak! (Studio applause swells). And here's the star of our show, John Wyatt!

[Wyatt emerges again and takes his position. We now see a rapid montage of scenes from the next program, never more than ten seconds at a time for a scene. Now we come to the near end of the program]

WYATT: Okay Eileen, you've had yourself another great day on our program, winning your third game and over $9000 in our bonus round. You must feel really great about that.

EILEEN: Oh, I am John, I feel like this is a dream come true for me!

WYATT: Well, of course, you can win as many as five more trips to that bonus round if you keep playing this game as sharp as you have. [Looks to the camera] And of course, any of you out there can get a chance to win big money on "Winning Streak" and here's Bob Harlan to tell you about that.

ANNOUNCER (voiceover): If you would like to be a contestant on "Winning Streak," just send your name and address to "Winning Streak, Box 5354, Los Angeles, California, 90038."

WYATT (shaking his head in slight embarrassment): Thank you, John Harlan. Sorry about that, mixing you up with the man who used to announce our shows, the late Bob Fenton. Anyway, Eileen it's now time for you to meet a new opponent, so let's welcome Dan Robertson!

[A distinguished looking white-haired man in suit enters and takes his seat on the left side of Eileen]

WYATT: Nice to have you with us, Dan.

DAN: Great to be here, John.

WYATT: Tell us a little about yourself.

DAN: Well, I recently retired after 29 years, working for a wonderful law firm here in Los Angeles. My wife and I are now taking things easy at our home in Malibu, sailing and swimming, and we just recently became proud grandparents for the first time.

WYATT: Well congratulations, Dan! You know that really has to be a wonderful experience. I know my partner in this business, Fred Williamson, just celebrated the birth of his first grandson. Matter of fact, that's why I got mixed up a moment ago with our announcer, since as I understand it, Fred's named him after Bob Fenton. What's the name of your grandchild?

DAN: Kimberly Suzanne.

WYATT: And I'll bet she's watching you right now and cheering you on.

DAN: I hope so. If she isn't, we've got this on tape for her to see when she's grown up.

WYATT: Okay, then let's get on with our game, you know how our Main Game is played. You and Eileen will be trying to build any word you can related to a certain category, using only the letters you see on our Winning Streak board, and let's open that up right now. (The wall opens and a number of random letters appear, scattered about in a rectangular formation). Okay, the category we're playing with this game is "Breakfast food." Either one of you, try to use those letters to build a word that fits that category. But as you know, you don't get to build a word unless you answer a question related to the letter that's in play. Dan, you're the challenger, you start. Pick a letter on the board.

DAN: The "c", John.

WYATT: Okay, and as you notice, there's two "c's" on the board, so that means of course that "c" can be called only twice in this game. The question. What c is both a fabric in a woman's evening gown, and a French... (chime sounds of Eileen buzzing in) Eileen!

EILEEN: Crepe.

WYATT: Correct! You have the option of taking that "c" or putting it back in play.

EILEEN: I'll take it, John.

WYATT: Okay. Pick another letter.

EILEEN: "N"

WYATT: What n, is the name used to classify the forerunner to modern man? (Dan buzzes in) Dan!

DAN: Neanderthal, John.

WYATT: Correct! And you've earned the right to take that letter.

DAN: Oh.....I think I'll pass on it, John.

WYATT: You have the right to do that, if you think it won't help you build the word that best fits the category. You now have control.

DAN: "T"

WYATT: What t, is the word that literally translated from the German means Christmas Tree?

(There is silence for five seconds. Then a buzzer sounds) Tannenbaum. Tannenbaum, as in the song. Okay, no one knew that, we go back to another "T" question. What t is the word that describes the condition you never want to leave a pinball machine... (Eileen's chime sounds) Eileen!

EILEEN: Tilt!

WYATT: Of course! Now you have the choice, do you want the "T"?

EILEEN: No, I want to go back to "N" again, John.

WYATT: Okay, we... (A bell then sounds). Oh, I'm sorry that sound means we have just run out of time for today and we'll have to pick up this game in progress tomorrow. Dan, Eileen, we'll look forward to seeing you both then. In the meantime, I hope all of you out there will be joining us then too, to see which of these two players will be going on a Winning Streak! (Waves) Bye! (Music and applause swell)

ANNOUNCER: Winning Streak is a John Wyatt and Fred Williamson Production.
 

Scene Three

[Wyatt exits studio into corridor, removing his dark blazer and handing it to Jim.]

WYATT: The light one for next show, Jim.

JIM: Yes sir! (Walks off)

WYATT: Mike?

HELLER (Emerging): Yeah, John?

WYATT: You know if Fred came down for the taping?

HELLER: No, he's still in his office as far as I know.

WYATT (With disgust): Of all the... This is the first time he comes out from New York in more than a month and he doesn't have the decency to sit in on the tapings?

HELLER: I guess he has his reasons.

WYATT: I think it's about time he get an earful about how he shouldn't be snubbing us on this. If he's not watching the shows, he can't sell us good with the advertisers and the network boys. Can you come with me?

HELLER: Sure. (They start walking down the corridor together) Ever get the feeling that maybe Fred just doesn't give a damn anymore?

WYATT: Too many times. The way he seems to like running down every new project we put out, he'd probably be the only guy who could end up depressing a hyena. (They reach the door. Wyatt knocks on it) Fred? (Knocks again) Fred, open up! (Looks at Heller in disgust) Now what's that SOB up to now? (Heller shrugs as he knocks more loudly) Damn it, Fred, open up!

HELLER: Has he locked himself in?

(Wyatt turns the knob and it opens. He steps in and freezes, his mouth falling open in appearent shock when he sees Williamson sprawled over his desk, the glass turned over nearby)

WYATT (whispers): Oh my God.

HELLER (Forcing his way around him, so he can now see): What the...

WYATT (whispering): Dear God, dear God.

HELLER: What's the matter with...

WYATT (moving up to him): He's dead. Dear God in heaven, he's dead!

HELLER: Dead? Are you...

WYATT (Looking at him in apparent horror): Yes, I'm sure. God Almighty, this... (shuddering). Call a doctor, or is it the police you call, I...

HELLER: What the hell happened to him? (Comes up alongside him and looks down so he can see the glass with some of the liquid staining the table) You think he: ...?

WYATT: He finally went over the edge. He finally went over the edge, dear God. (Sits down in the chair he sat in earlier when he confronted Williamson and poisoned him, clutching the handrails. This is deliberate. He needs to account for the presence of his fingerprints on the handrails) Don't tell anyone else yet, Mike. Tell the crew the rest of the tapings are cancelled for today but don't say anything about this until the police get here. I'll......I'll call them from here.

HELLER: Okay (Looks at Williamson's body again and shakes his head sadly) God, Fred, why? (Departs. As soon as he's gone, the false facade disappears from Wyatt's face as he lets out a sigh of relief and picks up the phone to call the police)

WYATT: Yes, get me the police please. Something horrible's just happened here.

[COMMERCIAL]
 

Scene Four

[Williamson's office, an hour later. A uniformed officer stands at the door while a medical examiner's photographer is taking pictures of the body. To one side stands the plainclothes detective SERGEANT CLAY, who is idly checking his watch and wondering when his superior is going to arrive.]

COLUMBO (Poking his head through the doorway, so we only see his head first): This it?

CLAY (Relieved he's finally shown up): Yes, Lieutenant. In here.

COLUMBO (Enters the office and makes his way to the back of the room where Clay is standing on the right side of the desk, next to the computer, waiting for the photographer to leave): Sorry I was late. The guard at the studio gate gave me a bit of a hard time because he didn't believe my ID was legit. Actually thought I was here to break my way in for some audition in a cop show. (Looks at Clay as he sticks his well: chewed cigar back in his mouth) I've never seen cops like me on TV, have you?

CLAY (trying to hide the inner sense of bemusement he always feels whenever he's around Columbo): No, Lieutenant, can't say I have.

COLUMBO (Looks at the sprawled over corpse of Williamson. The photographer has now moved away): Who've we got here?

CLAY: Fred Williamson, co-producer of Wyatt/Williamson Productions. Apparent suicide.

COLUMBO: This the guy who makes all those game shows on TV?

CLAY: He and Mr. Wyatt, yeah.

COLUMBO: Boy, I've been watching those shows for years. Always knew his name, never knew his face. (Bends over and looks up close at the corpse). He been moved?

CLAY: No. He hasn't been touched since they found the body.

COLUMBO (Still inspecting the body): Who found the body?

CLAY: Mr. Wyatt and the director of the show, Mr. Heller.

COLUMBO: They still here?

CLAY: Yeah, they are. Waiting in the studio with the rest of the crew until you tell them they can go.

COLUMBO: I'll get to them in a few minutes. (Looks over at the overturned glass near Williamson's hand and the spilt liquid on the desk, which has left a tell-tale stain). Do we know for sure it's suicide? No chance he just choked to death or had some sudden heart attack?

CLAY: He left a suicide note, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Where's the note?

CLAY (Points): It's on the computer, and there's a printed copy of it in the printer tray.

[Columbo hunches down to look at the computer screen where the note is obvious]

COLUMBO (Recites): "Winning Streak is finished. End of line for career. Not worth pursuing any further." (Glances at Clay). What's Winning Streak?

CLAY: That's the game show he and Mr. Wyatt currently produce.

COLUMBO: Oh really? Didn't know they had a new one on the air. (Walks over to printer where the note is still in the tray). Reads the same.

CLAY: The note actually gives us the time of death.

COLUMBO: Howzzat?

CLAY: There's a time printout on the suicide note. He printed the suicide note out at 1:40, which was during the last taping of the game show, and then he must have taken poison in that drink of his.

COLUMBO (Looks down at the note in the tray): Yeah, I see that. Well, as soon as the coroner gets done, we'll know for sure if it's suicide. Can't rule out him typing this note and having a heart attack until then, unlikely as that is. But what the heck, I've seen stranger coincidences.

CLAY (Can't resist): Just making sure all the loose ends are taken care of right away, right, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO (Looks at him and smiles): You're learning well, Sergeant. You'll be a lieutenant before you know it if you keep thinking like that. Okay, what say we bring in Mr. Wyatt and Mr. Heller since they're the ones who found the body.

[Clay motions to the uniformed officer who steps out into the hallway. Within fifteen seconds, a shaken looking Heller and a tight: lipped Wyatt enter the room. Columbo approaches them]

COLUMBO: Gentlemen, I'm Lieutenant Columbo... (Stops and looks carefully at Wyatt). John Wyatt, right?

WYATT: Yes, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: (Suddenly shakes his hand) Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, sir, but I've wanted to meet you for more years than I'd like to admit. When I used to live in New York, I always was in the audience of that Wednesday night panel show you used to do in the old 46^th Street Theater.

WYATT: Oh yes, 'What's The Secret?'

COLUMBO: Those free tickets for the audience always saved me a bundle of money on dates with the future Mrs. Columbo.

WYATT (Somewhat befuddled, not having expected this at all): I'm......glad we were able to help out.

COLUMBO: Well, I didn't mean I liked being in the audience for the shows just because the tickets were free, they were just fun. As good as going to a movie or a show. (Shakes his head sheepishly) But I shouldn't be doing any of this happy reminsicing when I know you've got to really be shaken by what's happened to Mr. Williamson here

WYATT (Sadly): Yes. God, we've been partners for decades. It's.....just so tragic he had to do this.

HELLER: I had a feeling he'd been a bit down of late, but not like this.

COLUMBO: You're Mr. Heller, right?

HELLER: Yes.

COLUMBO: I really should be writing this all down. (Pulls out notebook then fumbles slightly. He's about to ask Heller or Wyatt for a pencil, but just before the words come out, Clay steps in and hands him one. After working alongside Columbo for more than a year now, he's nailed down every one of Columbo's idiosyncrasies to an exact science). Thanks, Sergeant. Now, did you both discover Mr. Williamson's body together?

HELLER: Yes, Lieuteanant. We were on our way to see him, and when John knocked and got no answer we came in and saw him right there, dead.

COLUMBO: Which of you entered the room first?

WYATT: I did, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Did you try to revive Mr. Williamson?

WYATT (Shakes his head): No. There....wasn't any point. He was clearly dead.

COLUMBO (Writes): I see. Now did both of you know that Mr. Williamson had been depressed or anything like that lately?

WYATT: He had been down a bit. Things um....well to be honest, Lieutenant, things haven't been going too well with our show in the ratings.

COLUMBO: Winning Streak?

WYATT: Yes.....have you seen it?

COLUMBO: I'm afraid I don't get a chance to watch daytime TV, Mr. Wyatt. Even when I'm home sick or something my wife usually ties up the set with her soap operas. Always wants them on in the background when she's doing her vacuuming. (Writes) Ever thought of putting your shows on at night like you used to with "What's The Secret?"

WYATT: I'm afraid we live in a different era now, Lieutenant. It's tough enough just to get a game show on daytime TV anymore. (Glances sadly at Williamson's body) That's why Fred was feeling a bit depressed of late. He knew that if this show didn't succeed we'd probably never have a shot at another game show on the network again.

HELLER: Game shows are unfortunately a dying breed of television, Lieutenant. Tech guys like me can just work on other kinds of shows without any trouble, but for....well for people like John and Fred, they mean a lot more.

COLUMBO: I see. Well, I don't think there's any reason to keep you both here any longer. No wait.....did either of you talk to Mr. Williamson earlier today?

WYATT: I'm afraid not. We were both busy with our taping schedule. Fred came in after we'd started and in fact, the reason why we both came down to the office was because Fred hadn't been showing up in the control room for the tapings like he usually does when he's out here.

HELLER: That's right.

COLUMBO: Okay, then that's all I need to know for now. If you can just give me your phone numbers and addresses in case I need to get in touch with either of you again, I'd appreciate it.

WYATT: The officer outside took them a couple minutes ago.

COLUMBO: Okay, no point having you repeat all that. Ah, just one other thing. Does Mr. Williamson have any relatives?

WYATT: He has a married daughter in New York. Mrs. Ruth Benson. I'm afraid I don't know her address, but.....it's probably here in the office.

COLUMBO (Writes): Thanks. Okay, you can go know.

[Wyatt and Heller both leave. Columbo turns back and looks at the corpse again, deep in thought]

CLAY: Here's his address book, Lieutenant. It has his daughter's phone number in New York.

[Columbo doesn't respond. He's still staring at Williamson's corpse, deep in thought]

CLAY (Comes up to him): Lieutenant? Anything wrong?

COLUMBO: Not sure. (Looks at his notebook again. Then goes over to the door at the other side of the office, and squints at the body from his now more distant vantage point. As he does this, Clay already begins to sense that Columbo is having one of his hunches about a loose end come over him)

CLAY: Lieutenant, if there's a loose end or something that's bothering you: : : :

COLUMBO: Oh no, I don't think so. No, I don't think there are any loose ends with this one. At least, nothing significant at this point.

CLAY (Decides to press ahead): An insignificant loose end then?

COLUMBO (Sticks a well chewed cigar butt back into his mouth): Maybe. Sergeant, suppose you entered a room and saw, from my vantage point, Mr. Williamson lying there not moving. What would your first instinct be?

(Clay moves up to join Columbo and also glances from his now more distant vantage point at the body).

CLAY (Thoughtfully): Yeah, I think I see what you mean, Lieutenant. From this position, I'm not sure I'd automatically assume he was already dead.

COLUMBO: Yet according to Mr. Heller and Mr. Wyatt, there was never any attempt to revive Mr. Williamson.

CLAY: Of course, since both of them had an inkling about Mr. Williamson's state of mind, maybe the thought of him commiting suicide would more easily occur to them.

COLUMBO: Maybe. Still, you wonder why they didn't at least try to take a pulse or give some CPR or something. (Shrugs). But, you know how people never do the logical thing sometime when they're in a bit of shock. Maybe that explains it.

CLAY: Should I call them both back, Lieutenant, and see how they react to that question?

COLUMBO (put his hand under his chin in brief contemplation): Not yet, Sergeant. Not yet. I think that's a question I'd best save for another time. Especially if some more loose ends start to turn up and pile on to that one. (Picks up Williamson's notebook). Might as well start next with the daughter.
 

Scene Five

[Columbo is now back in his Parker Center office, seated at his desk, but still with his raincoat on as always. His feet are up on his desk as he talks on the phone]

COLUMBO: Mrs. Benson, I know this is a real shock to you, and I know this probably isn't the best time, but I think it might be better if we could take care of this before you fly out here, and that way you won't have to make a trip down to headquarters.

[We see in a fashionable New York apartment, a visibly distraught RUTH BENSON, who is Williamson's daughter. She is an attractive but not stunning woman in her late 20s, still slightly overweight after her recent pregnancy]

RUTH (Choking back a sob): I....understand, Lieutenant. I'll try to answer any questions you have.

COLUMBO: When was the last time you talked to your father?

RUTH: It was only this morning! I'd.....I'm sorry, I (let's out a brief sob)

COLUMBO: That's okay, Mrs. Benson. It's okay, if you want to let this wait until you come out here.

RUTH: No, no. I want this done with. I.....Lieutenant, I just talked to him this morning, and he didn't sound depressed at all! He was looking forward to getting back here next week so he could see his grandson for the first time. It....it just doesn't make any sense!

[Columbo visibly comes forward in his chair, taking his feet off the desk]

COLUMBO: You mean you just had a child recently, Mrs. Benson?

RUTH: We came home from the hospital just yesterday! Our new boy, and it was our first child, and he was upset that he couldn't be here when he was born, but...(trails off).

COLUMBO: (Leaning forward, finding this new information very interesting) Can you remember what time you talked to your father this morning?

RUTH: Oh.....it was sometime around one or two, I guess.

COLUMBO: (Glances at his watch and frowns, then absentmindely shakes his head) Uh, Mrs. Benson, that's your time you're giving me, right? Not LA time?

RUTH: Oh....yes, I'm sorry. That would have been about ten or eleven, I guess out there. I.....I'd called to tell him that Mark, my husband and I, we'd......finally picked a name for our boy. And....he just sounded so happy that......(let's out another sob).

COLUMBO (voice filled with all the sympathy he can muster): I won't keep you much longer, Mrs. Benson. Did he mention any problems he was going through in his work? Anything that was bothering him? Not necessarily in this conversation you had with him this morning, but anytime recently?

RUTH: No, not that I can recall, although......this was the first time I'd talked to him since before I'd gone into the hospital last week to give birth. He.....never talked much about work around home, it was......always something he tried to keep separate from his private life.

COLUMBO: Is your father a widower, ma'mm?

RUTH: Yes. My mother died ten years ago.

COLUMBO: He's lived alone since then?

RUTH: Yes. He....never wanted to remarry. I used to keep telling him he needed to but.......(trails off)

COLUMBO: I see. Mrs. Benson, I think you've given me all I need for now. But if we need to get in touch with you for any more questions while you're out here in LA, would you mind?

RUTH: No, not at all.

COLUMBO: Thank you. My condolences to you, Mrs. Benson.

(Hangs up and sighs with regret over having to make the phone call, then goes back to his notes. Starting first with the notes he'd jotted down during the phone call on a scratch pad. He then goes back to his notepad from the crime scene. After staring at them for more than a minute, his eyes narrow slightly. He then puts his right hand to his forehead, hunched over the desk and then extends his arm out as though something has just occurred to him. Ten seconds later, he picks up the phone again)

COLUMBO: Sergeant Clay, please.
 

Scene Six

[At the TV Studio, WYATT is standing in the outer office of the network's head of daytime programming. He is doing all he can to maintain the facade of someone in shock and mourning. Inside, he is feeling a rising tide of impatience. Finally, the secretary puts down the phone and looks up at him.]

SECRETARY: Mr. Durkin will see you now, Mr. Wyatt.

WYATT: Thank you. (Enters. At the other side of the room, PHIL DURKIN, a balding man rises from behind his desk and extends his hand)

DURKIN: John, good to see you. I'm really sorry about Fred.

WYATT (Shakes hands with Durkin, smiles thinly and sits down): Thanks, Phil.

DURKIN: It's amazing. He was always such a tower of strength, all the years I used to deal with him. Who'd have thought...

WYATT (Cuts in): Well, things had been different lately. When the networks start treating old friends like trash all of a sudden, it isn't surprising if your mood starts to shift a bit.

DURKIN: Hey, wait a minute, John.

WYATT: (Angrily interrupts). No, you wait a minute, Phil. If you want to know who I think is responsible for why Fred Williamson decided to blow his brains out, it's you and all the other backstabbers in this business who've been treating every game show production company like three-day leftovers for too long now.

DURKIN (Visibly surprised and shaken by this outburst): John, what the hell is the matter with you?

WYATT (Voice rises. This outburst doesn't require much acting on his part since it's a chance for him to to get a lot of genuine feelings inside him out. An opportunity he never would have had if not for the pall surrounding Fred Williamson's death): What's the matter with me, Phil? I ought to be asking what's the matter with you and the other networks and why for the last ten years, I've had to watch you clowns give constant one and two year committments on the schedule to crappy soap operas and talk shows while guys like me have to sweat it out with half: assed thirteen week committments and constantly worrying about when the knife is going to fall. How many shows have we had over the last ten years that you and your counterparts never gave a fair shot to find an audience?

DURKIN (Not wanting to lose his temper): John, this is really not the time...

WYATT: It is the time, damn it! Because now that I've had to see my best friend in this business blow his brains out, I'm finally going to get everything that's been boiling inside me for years about you and your ilk off my chest, and damn it you're going to listen to me or else I start phoning every TV critic in the country about what a rotten bunch you guys are! (Takes a breath) What's it going to be, Phil? Do you hear me out, or do you get to read it in tomorrow's Times?

DURKIN (Hastily waves his hands): No, no, go on. Go on. Get it off your chest.

WYATT (Sarcastically): Thank you. (Draws himself up). Twenty years ago, there were fifteen game shows on daytime television. If you included all the daily syndicated shows there was something like two dozen. Fred and I had about five on the air at that time. Those were good times for us and the other companies because you guys back then had the decency to realize how important game shows were to television. Whether panel shows, hard quiz shows or simple word game shows, you always were sharp enough to realize how much we'd meant to the whole damned broadcasting industry for decades. We always promoted your prime time shows by having the stars appear on our shows as celebrity players. And you got better ratings in prime time, and we always brought you tons of revenue from the advertisers.

DURKIN: John, no one's disputing that.

WYATT: Then why the hell did you bastards start stabbing us in the back?

DURKIN (Exasperated): John, what are you talking about?!

WYATT: Always, whenever there was a conflict over committment to soaps versus a game show, you sided with the soap producers. And then later on when the affiliates started demanding more of the daytime schedule back for themselves, you always gave them the time slots that our game shows had been in, and always made sure you were covering the soap operas asses. Always, when push came to shove, the game show producers like Fred and me, and Goodson: Todman were the ones who got screwed. And that's how we went from fifteen game shows on daytime television then, to just two today. Price Is Right and Winning Streak.

DURKIN: John, the ratings...

WYATT: Oh, don't give me any of that ratings crap! I got a chance firsthand to see how that argument was bogus. You remember Break The Bank?

DURKIN: No.

WYATT: Oh yes you do. The Hollywood Squares knockoff. I didn't host it, but it was my company's baby. You were assistant chief of daytime programming back then when you pulled the plug on us after 13 weeks.

DURKIN: If we pulled you after 13 weeks, then you couldn't have been setting the world on fire in the ratings.

WYATT: Garbage. We were the third highest rated game show out of 15 that year. We had a built: in audience. And we got shafted because your superior at the time had made a promise to expand one of the soaps to an hour. That meant he needed to clear a half hour off the schedule to make room for that, and guess who got the shaft as a result? Break The Bank. You had at least two other rotten half hour soaps at the time drawing less in the ratings than our show did, but you still decided we had to go.

DURKIN: John, I won't defend that, but you have to understand why the soap operas demand longer committments. You're dealing with a whole cast of actors and writers and the last thing we need is trouble from Screen Actors and Writer's Guild.

WYATT: And if you guys had an ounce of backbone, you'd tell the Screen Actors and Writer's Guild to go to hell.

DURKIN (Throws up hands in exasperation): John, it just isn't that simple!

WYATT: It's always been simple to Fred and me. When push comes to shove, the soap producers push you, and then you guys shove it to us. The way you've jerked us around on Winning Streak shows how after two years of not running any game shows, you still haven't lost your touch.

DURKIN (Rises. This time he's not going to stay placid): John, you ought to consider yourself lucky that you even got on the air. You and your whole industry doesn't have a single friend among the big shots in New York who make the final decisions about what goes on the network daytime schedule.

WYATT: And whose fault is it that we're in that position, Phil? Not mine, and not Fred's, and not the rest of the game show industry. It's guys like you who were too chicken to stand up for us back then who put us in this fix today. So now today, you've got your wish. Wall: to: wall soaps on the network daytime schedule, while the affiliates use the time slots that used to belong to us to run tasteless talk shows that make the soap operas seem like Sermonette by comparison.

And when you finally give us a chance again you put us under an impossible gun of trying to think that after all these years we should somehow become an instant hit, when what we need is more time to develop ourselves!

[A silence fills the air for a minute. Durkin has settled back in his chair]

DURKIN: Are you through?

WYATT (Exhales): I guess I am.

DURKIN: What do you want me to do, John?

WYATT: Maybe give us something more than the half-assed committment we're already operating under.

DURKIN: Like what? You want a year's committment that Winning Streak stays on the air?

WYATT: That'd be a start.

DURKIN (Stares at him dubiously): And what else?

WYATT: One-year committments for the next two game shows Wyatt/Williamson Productions sells to the network. I won't pressure you to buy every pilot we come up with, but the minute you decide one of our pilots is good enough to put on the air, I expect some decent backing for it.

DURKIN: And if I don't give you all this?

WYATT: Then I repeat what I just said to every TV critic in town.

DURKIN (Glares at him): John, you must be the most naive person in the world if you think the network would commit millions of dollars and cushy guarantees to your game shows just to keep you from talking to a few media critics.

WYATT: Oh, you're right, it would be naive of me, and maybe a bit egotistical of me if I'd done that yesterday or any other day. But you're forgetting something, Phil. There's the matter of Fred Williamson's blood on your hands and all the other networks. If I start talking about how your backstabbing practices are enough to drive a respected man in the business like Fred to suicide, then it makes you guys look bad. And pretty soon, I think other people in this business who've been screwed the same way will find the strength to speak out too. (Pauses) And I don't think the bigshots in New York would like to see all that kind of bad publicity would they, Phil?

DURKIN (Lets out an exasperated sigh): I'll call New York and tell them how you feel and I'll take your side on the matter. Beyond that, I can't guarantee a damned thing.

WYATT: Start cashing in some of the debts those guys owe you, Phil. It's about time someone in your position was willing to do that for game shows.

DURKIN: I said I'd talk to them and take your side. I'll let you know by tomorrow how it went.

WYATT: That's a start at least. (Turns to go then stops). But get this straight, Phil. If I find out you didn't follow through on this, then that means my rhetoric to the reporters will be a lot nastier than it is now.

[Wyatt departs, leaving Durkin alone and shaking his head in disgust]

DURKIN: Damned SOB.
 

Scene Seven

[Wyatt walks down corridor to return to his office. When he opens the door, he is taken aback slightly to see Columbo seated in the chair in front of his desk]

WYATT: Can I help you with something?

COLUMBO (Rises): Oh Mr. Wyatt, sorry to bother you. I'm Lieutenant Columbo, we talked earlier today.

WYATT: Oh yes, I remember. Is there anything else you need to know about Fred's death?

COLUMBO: Well as a matter of fact Mr. Wyatt, there are just a couple of things I need to take care of for the bookkeeping and all that. I figured that since Mr. Williamson's daughter is on her way out here for the funeral, it's best this all get wrapped up before she arrives.

WYATT: Yes, I understand. (Walks behind his desk and sits down). What can I help you with?

COLUMBO (Looks at notebook): Well, I was just checking over the statement you and Mr. Heller gave about when you found Mr. Williamson's body. Now, I believe you said that you were the first to enter the room and notice Mr. Williamson lying there behind his desk.

WYATT: Yes, that's correct.

COLUMBO: And according to you and Mr. Heller, you both automatically assumed he was dead the instant you saw him.

WYATT (Slightly confused): Well....yes. That was obvious.

COLUMBO: You didn't think that maybe he was just unconscious at the time, or that he could have been revived?

WYATT: Well.....no. (A horrified look comes over him) Oh my God, Lieutenant, are you trying to tell me that Fred wasn't dead yet and that we could have saved him? Is that what you're here to tell me?

COLUMBO (Slightly taken aback by his reaction): Oh no sir, no. Nothing like that at all. The coroner's report confirms he died instantly after he took the poison, and since you didn't see him do that, he was dead when you and Mr. Heller found him.

WYATT: (Sounding relieved). I see. I'm....glad to know that. I mean...no, I mean I'm glad to know it wasn't because.....(takes a breath) Lieutenant, you know what I mean.

COLUMBO (Nods): Yes, Mr. Wyatt, I know what you mean. But anyway, just to get back to the other matter, was there any particular reason why you assumed instantly that Mr. Williamson was dead?

WYATT (Leans back and looks up at the ceiling): Well, I think it was just kind of an instantaneous snap judgment. I mean, Fred hadn't been acting too well lately because.....well things haven't been going well with our company. Winning Streak is the first game show we've gotten on TV in two years and the ratings haven't been that good. We've.....well for both of us, we've kind of had to worry in the back of our minds that this was our last shot at recapturing our past glory.

COLUMBO: I see (makes a note). Was there any specific instance where Mr. Williamson acted or sounded real depressed that made you feel that way?

WYATT: Why yes. Only last week when he and I talked on the phone and I asked him to come out to Los Angeles to provide some moral support for the staff, and maybe try to pull some strings with the network executives here.

COLUMBO: Sorry, don't mean to interrupt you. Mr. Williamson is usually based in New York even though all the shows are done here in California now?

WYATT: Yes.

COLUMBO: You know I always wanted to ask you about that. Back in the 50s when you were doing shows like "What's The Secret?" you always did them in New York. How come you and all the other game show guys moved out to LA?

WYATT (Taken slightly aback at how Columbo has now gone off another tangent): Oh. Well, largely because the production facilities are a lot better here, Lieutenant. I mean, you have to admit the studios here are a lot better than the old 46^th Street Theater was, since you said you used to go to our broadcasts there.

COLUMBO: Yeah, I guess so. (Smiles as he makes another note) You know, I've been here in LA since 58. Weather's nicer. Lots more open space. Still, I gotta admit New York's really my kind of town, even with all it's faults. (Squints at notebook and looks askance) Where was I?

WYATT (Finding Columbo's digression both amusing and irritating at the same time): You were asking me about Fred being based in New York.

COLUMBO (Holds up arm): Right. Anyway, how come he stayed in New York?

WYATT: Not for sentimental reasons, Lieutenant. Production facilities may be better out here, but since the top network executives and advertisers are all in New York it makes more sense for us to keep our business offices back there for dealing with them.

COLUMBO: I see. In other words, Mr. Williamson handled all of those matters?

WYATT: Yes. His half of the partnership was to handle sales, advertising, making contacts with the network bigwigs and the syndicators. Also maintaining our program archive. Me, I handle the creative end of things. Coming up with the show concepts and game play. Developing the sets, formats, and hosting them if I feel like I'm the right emcee for the particular show. That end of the business we deal with out here where the shows get made.

COLUMBO: I see. So Mr. Williamson keeps that office here only for those few occasions for when he flies out?

WYATT: That's right.

COLUMBO: And when you talked to him on the phone last week asking him to come out, he really sounded down and depressed. Were you worried by the way he sounded?

WYATT (Shakes head): No, I wouldn't say I was worried, Lieutenant, because frankly the way he felt pretty much summed up the way I was feeling. I mean....these ratings have had me feeling a bit depressed too.

COLUMBO: Okay. (Makes note and then shakes his head slightly). That's really strange though.

WYATT: What is?

COLUMBO: Well that Mr. Williamson would be so depressed about how things were going with the game show, to the point where he decided to kill himself, yet when he last talked to his daughter, she said he sounded more upbeat than ever before.

WYATT (not changing his expression, but feeling a hint of an alarm bell going off): When was that, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Well according to his daughter, she talked to him at about 10 or 11 this morning, and that would have been....(checks notes) just a bit less than two hours before you and Mr. Heller found him dead.

WYATT: Well Lieutenant, it doesn't surprise me that Fred would have put up a smiling facade with his daughter. He was always the kind of man who could compartmentalize his behavior. His wife Joan, God rest her soul, she once told me how she could never get him to talk two syllables about his work whenever he came home.

COLUMBO: Yeah, I suppose that wouldn't be surprising then. But....(shakes his head) But she said he was looking forward to seeing his new grandchild. It's still kind of surprising then when he had that big thing in his life to look forward to, he would have gone over the edge just a couple hours later.

WYATT (Sighs): He must have had some kind of sudden downturn, Lieutenant. Whatever it was, I couldn't say..

COLUMBO: You never talked to him today?

WYATT: No. I was busy with our taping schedule. I'd hoped he'd have come down during one of the tapings, but when he didn't that's when I got concerned and why Mike and I went down to his office.

COLUMBO: Could you explain how that works? Your taping schedule?

WYATT: Well, you see we tape five shows in a day. A whole week of shows for later airing, and in between them the contestants change clothes and I change my suit or jackets so that we sort of create the illusion that a whole day has passed.

COLUMBO: Oh, is that what you do? Gee, all these years I thought you did them one a day like the old days.

WYATT: Oh no, Lieutenant. That'd be much too complicated. No, I just tape a show, change clothes and in between I come down here to watch a tape of the show we just did to see with my own eyes how everything went, and also because it keeps the details of the contestants and the recent gameplay fresh in my head.

COLUMBO: I see. (Makes another note and looks up) Now, Mr. Wyatt, at 12:40, Mr. Williamson typed up his suicide note. You found the body at 12:50. Were you in your office at the time he would have typed up the note?

WYATT: No, Lieutenant. I was taping the last program we did today. We started taping at 12:20 and didn't finish until 12:45. Then as soon as we finished that's when Mike and I went down to his office as I said.

COLUMBO: I see. Well, I guess that clears up those matters. There's no way you could have known what caused him to go into that sudden downturn after he talked to his daughter?

WYATT: Not a chance, since I didn't talk to him all morning.

COLUMBO: Right. (Makes a last notation and rises) Well, Mr. Wyatt I think that should do it. Sorry to have bothered you.

WYATT: No, I understand perfectly Lieutenant. Oh!

COLUMBO (Stops): Yes?

WYATT: There is one thing I forgot to mention about how I knew when I entered the office for certain that Fred had to have killed himself. When I ran up to him I could see that note he'd typed up on his computer. The suicide note wasn't it?

COLUMBO: Yeah. You saw the printed note, or the one on the computer?

WYATT: The screen of course. I couldn't have seen what was in the tray. Yeah, I just saw it as I came up to him and combined with what I already knew about how depressed he'd been, I think that was why I hit that snap judgment about him already being dead and didn't bother trying to revive him. (Shakes his head with regret) Still, I wish I had even if it wouldn't have made any difference. No one should make an automatic assumption like that if it might mean the difference in saving someone's life.

COLUMBO: Well, like I said, you don't have to concern yourself about that, Mr. Wyatt. The coroner was clear that nothing could have been done. (Starts to move toward the door then stops). Oh, just one more thing. Nothing to do with the case, I was just wondering what's going to happen to the production company now that Mr. Williamson's dead?

WYATT (Sighs): We move on, Lieutenant. We try to pick up the pieces of the tragedy and move on.

COLUMBO: Well yeah, but I meant now that Mr. Williamson's dead isn't that going to make things more difficult for your company to mount new shows, since he's the one who handled all the important business matters?

WYATT: It'll be difficult, but we'll find a way. Fred may have been the financial brains of our operation, and I could never be as good as him in that area, but I know I'm not going to go down without putting up a fight. (Turns in his chair and looks at the awards on the other side of the room) I've been in game shows for more than thirty five years Lieutenant. They've been my whole life. The sheer joy of finding ways to let ordinary people have a chance to make some money not because they caught a lucky break with a lottery ticket, but because they put their knowledge and skill to good use. And also giving the people watching at home something they could root for and have fun with at the same time. (Looks back at Columbo). This is the most misunderstood and maligned form of television, Lieutenant. All the idiots keep saying we're a genre that caters to greed and selfishness, but it isn't like that at all. We're the kind of genre that believes in putting the common man on television, not those sideshow freaks the trashy talk shows put on now.

COLUMBO: Well, you won't get any argument from me about those talk shows, Mr. Wyatt.

WYATT (Rises from his chair and looks at him thoughtfully): You know, Lieutenant, now that I think of it, have you ever considered appearing on a game show yourself?

COLUMBO (surprised): Me?

WYATT: Why sure. We've had lots of policemen as contestants down through the years. You have the sort of common man touch that'd be perfect for our kind of show.

COLUMBO: Well now, I don't know, I mean I...

WYATT: Oh don't sell yourself short, Lieutenant. You'd be a natural. As a matter of fact, suppose I give you a kind of mini: audition to see how you'd fare at Winning Sreak?

COLUMBO: I'm not sure, Mr. Wyatt, I...

WYATT: I'm sorry, if it's a matter of taking up your valuable time...

COLUMBO: No, it's nothing like that, it's just that....(shakes his head) I can't just see myself on TV. Especially with a shot at winning the kind of money you give away on these shows.

WYATT: Well, if you've got a few minutes, suppose I walk you over to the studio and let you have sort of a dry run.

COLUMBO: Well....

WYATT: Come on Lieutenant, what have you got to lose? If you know the game well, I can practically guarantee you a shot at appearing on the show as a contestant.

COLUMBO: You really mean that?

WYATT: Certainly. (Rises) Come with me.
 

Scene Eight

[The darkened studio set of Winning Streak is suddenly lit up as Wyatt and Columbo enter. Columbo stops and looks about in amazement at how small the set seems in terms of the distance between the podium and the large game board]

COLUMBO: Boy, this is a lot smaller than it seems like on TV.

WYATT: TV always creates that illusion, Lieutenant. The podium always seems like it's a million miles away from the board when it's less than five feet most of the time. Now you just sit down in one of the chairs there. (Columbo sheepishly sits down in one of the contestant chairs as Wyatt moves off to one side where he turns on the switches that activate the Bonus Round game board). Now, Lieutenant since our main game is a two player competition we wouldn't be able to test you on that, but let's see how you'd fare at the Bonus Game. This is really the heart of the program, where the big money gets won.

COLUMBO (Looking around the brightly lit set like a kid at an amusement park): What do I do?

WYATT  (Taking his place at the host's podium): Well, you see that little plunger in front of you? Just hit that. (Columbo hits it. The $500 sign lights up) You see that, Lieutenant? It came up $500. That means the first word you have to come up with in our bonus round will be worth that much money.

COLUMBO: How come I didn't hear a bell or something?

WYATT: Oh, well the sound effects people take care of that and they're gone right now. I can't give you the full bells and whistles experiment all by myself I'm afraid.

COLUMBO (Nods): I see.

WYATT: Now, I hit this switch and that sets the letter board in motion. Okay, Lieutenant hit the plunger again. (The "s" lights up). Okay, now Lieutenant here's what happens. You hit an "s" so all you've got to do to win $500 is just give me any word that has the letter s.

COLUMBO (Looks at him in amazement): Really? That's all there is to it? You gotta be putting me on.

WYATT: No, no it's that simple. Just give me any word with the letter s.

COLUMBO: Ho boy. I can't believe it. I should have gone on one of these shows years ago. Ahh (puts a hand to his head). Of course. As.

WYATT: Right! Now, Lieutenant just for giving me the word as you've won $500. Want to try to double that for a thousand.

COLUMBO: Sure, might as well.

WYATT: Okay, then hit that plunger again for another letter. ("h" lights up). Okay, now you've got an h to work with.

COLUMBO: So I just give you a word with the letter h.

WYATT (Smile fades slightly and he holds up a hand): Ah, no Lieutenant. Not that simple this time. You have to give me a word that has an h and an s. You see, the s carries over.

COLUMBO  (dawn comes to him): Oh, I get it. You hit those letters and as you do this more and more, it gets tougher cuz you gotta go back to the other letters.

WYATT: Right, Lieutenant. I mean, it wouldn't be much of a game if we just had people giving us any old word using just one letter, would we?

COLUMBO (chuckles): No, I guess not. You'd really be giving away too much money if you did that.

WYATT (motions to the board): But anyway, Lieutenant, a word with h and s.

COLUMBO: Ahhhh....let's see. Okay, ah, how about ah. Has?

WYATT: Has is perfect! That means you now have a thousand dollars won.

COLUMBO: Boy, this is amazing.

WYATT: Now this is when you have to make a decision, Lieutenant. You want to stop with your thousand or try to double that to two thousand?

COLUMBO (Slightly surprised): Oh, double the thousand? Not for another $500?

WYATT (A trifle exasperated): No, Lieutenant. You double your accumulated winnings with each new word. That's how the big money gets won as you move along.

COLUMBO: Oh, I see. Well yeah, I'll go on. I guess I just hit this thing again. ("a" lights up).

WYATT: For two thousand dollars, just give me a word with h, a, and s.

COLUMBO (Smiling): Has!

WYATT: Ah no. No, Lieutenant. You can't do that.

COLUMBO: Can't what?

WYATT: You can't give me the same word again. You used has the last time when it was with h and s.

COLUMBO: Oh, really?

WYATT: Now, you see Lieutenant if you'd been playing the game for real you would have lost your thousand dollars because the challenge is that as you go on, you can't duplicate a word you've used before, or come up with a word that's not grammatically correct.

COLUMBO: Ahh. Yeah. I get it. That makes sense. So: : : : I got to come up with another word now.

WYATT: I'll let you try it.

COLUMBO (Puts hand to head): Let's see. Word with, h, a, s, that isn't has. Um.....hoo boy this is embarrassing, nothing's coming!

WYATT (Amazed): Can't think of one?

COLUMBO: Nope, 'fraid not. Drawing a total blank.

WYATT: Well, I'm sorry Lieutenant. That means you lose your thousand and the game is over.

COLUMBO (Rises from contestant's chair): Well, I think that just goes to show you, Mr. Wyatt, that I'm really not cut out for going on game shows. I don't think I could ever do any better than I just did now, and if I were here with all the noise and the people and everything and knowing I'm on TV...

WYATT: Yes, I think I know what you mean, Lieutenant. Sorry it didn't work.

COLUMBO (Walks in front of podium): Course my wife now, she really loves crossword puzzles and all that, so maybe she'd do better at a game like this. She knows all those long complicated words because if she can't finish a crossword puzzle it literally drives her nuts.

WYATT: Well, maybe your wife should try out for the show?

COLUMBO: Yeah, that's a thought. Course she's a bit shy so I don't know how she'd like the idea of going on TV, but: : : :

WYATT: Wouldn't hurt to try! Now, Lieutenant, here's the card with the phone number for our contestant coordinator, Edie Chan. (Hands him a business card). You have your wife call her, and she can set up an audition.

COLUMBO: Well, thanks Mr. Wyatt. I know I'll certainly bounce the idea off her. What the heck, we could use an extra two thousand bucks if she could play this game.

WYATT: I'll look forward to seeing her.

COLUMBO: I'm sure she'd love the chance, because she always used to tell me when we would go watch "What's The Secret?" how handsome and distinguished you were. Course I know she'd say the same thing about you now, too.

WYATT (Smiles): I'm already beginning to like your wife a great deal, Lieutenant, and I haven't even met her or found out her name.

COLUMBO: Sorry to have bothered you, and ah, thanks again for letting me see all this. Really fascinating stuff. (Sticks a cigar in his mouth and walks out of the studio, leaving Wyatt alone.)

[As Wyatt starts to turn out the lights inside the studio, he stops, leans against the wall and shakes his head in amazement. Columbo has struck him as a total idiot with his poor game play. It sweeps away all concerns in his mind about Columbo possibly being able to figure out the truth]
 

Scene Nine

[Outside the studio, in the hallway, we see Columbo walking away. He stops, then looks at his notebook and shakes his head, smiling]

COLUMBO: Shape, sharp, shack, shall, shark........(We hear him continue to say words with h, a, and s as he walks away and out of view)

[Cut to Columbo entering Williamson's darkened office. He turns on the light and stands in front of the desk where the body lay. He puts his hand to his head and the other to his chin, and contemplates deeply. After a moment, he moves behind the desk and looks down. He frowns when he sees a slight brown stain on the blue carpeted floor. He kneels down to investigate it more closely and tentatively touches it. He immediately knows what it is and gets back to his feet and looks about the rest of the office leading to the area in front of the desk where the one chair across from it sits. After he finishes his examination, he goes back to the spot behind the desk, and his attention now turns to the window, which is raised three: quarters of the way. He is peering out of the window when a stern voice from behind calls out]

SECURITY GUARD: Hey!

COLUMBO (Turning around and seeing a uniformed security guard standing in the doorway): Oh, sorry, I was...

SECURITY GUARD: You don't have any business being in here, this is a private office. Now get out now!

COLUMBO: Ah, I'm afraid you don't understand, I...

SECURITY GUARD (moving in, his expression angry): I understand completely when I see a trespasser trying to break in, now you haul your butt out before I do it for you.

COLUMBO (reaches inside his raincoat and pulls out his badge): Police. Lieutenant Columbo, Homicide.

SECURITY GUARD (Flushes a deep red of embarrassment): Oh. Oh, sorry sir, I didn't, I...

COLUMBO (Waves his hand reassuringly): No, no. You're just doing your job and you're doing a good one being that alert. I should have come to you and asked for your help on this. I just thought I'd examine Mr. Williamson's office one last time.

SECURITY GUARD (Now totally polite): I understand completely, Lieutenant. Is there anything you need help with?

COLUMBO: Matter of fact there is. Could you come over here, please? (The guard makes his way up to Columbo) What's this area out back here used for?

SECURITY GUARD: That's a parking lot that's currently in a state of non: use, Lieutenant. The studio has plans to make some renovations to it starting sometime next week so for now, no one can park there.

COLUMBO: Really looks deserted.

SECURITY GUARD: Yeah. It's not a good parking lot. No one was using it even before they decided to go ahead with the renovations. You'd have to walk all the way back around to the front of the studio to get in if you parked there.

COLUMBO: So there are no doors on this side of the studio bordering the parking lot.

SECURITY GUARD: No sir.

COLUMBO: Now all the offices on this level though, have windows that look out here?

SECURITY GUARD: Yes, sir. All of them.

COLUMBO: And someone could get inside one of these windows if he was outside there?

SECURITY GUARD: Not unless the window's open. They only open from the inside.

COLUMBO (Looking out the window, staring down at the ground): Uh huh. (Chews on his cigar). Say Officer, do you have a flashlight I could borrow for a sec?

SECURITY GUARD: Sure, Lieutenant. (Hands it to him. Columbo leans out and shines it down on the ground. His eyes narrow slightly) You see something important?

COLUMBO: Maybe. (Keeps looking intently then looks back at the guard) Officer, could you help me out? I'd like to take a look outside.

SECURITY GUARD: Help you out the window?

COLUMBO: Yeah. You said there's no door on that side, so that would take forever to come round. If you can just sort of give me a little boost out?

SECURITY GUARD: Sure, I guess so. Maybe you should take that raincoat off? It could get caught on the ledge.

COLUMBO: Yeah, that's a good idea. (Columbo removes his raincoat and sets it on Williamson's chair. He sticks one leg out, and then the guard gently takes hold of his arm to help ease him out) Whooo. (Lands on the ground, three feet below the window and shines the flashlight on the area) Uh: huh.

SECURITY GUARD: See anything, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO (Still looking down): Maybe. (Pauses) Maybe. (Looks up) Officer, hand me my coat please. I think I'll just go back around. Thanks for your help.

SECURITY GUARD (Hands down Columbo's raincoat): Anytime, Lieutenant.

[Columbo walks out to the empty parking lot and shakes his head in amazement as he puts his raincoat back on]
 

Scene Eleven

[Two days later. The funeral wake for Williamson at Forest Lawn. Around a plot, a minister is reading scripture, while standing around is Williamson's daughter Ruth Benson, her husband Mark Benson, Wyatt, Heller and several other long: time associates. As the minister goes on, we see Columbo make his way toward the ceremony. He stops occasionally and glances at several of the headstones as he sees a name that's familiar to him. The victim from his most recent case, Dr. Raymond Flemming. He shakes his head in contemplation on the details of the case for an instant and moves on. By the time he reaches the Williamson plot, the minister has finished and the guests are now congregating around each other and conversing. Columbo makes his way toward Ruth]

COLUMBO: Mrs. Benson?

RUTH (Eyes still red): Yes?

COLUMBO: I'm Lieutenant Columbo, LAPD. We spoke on the phone the other day.

RUTH: Oh....yes. Yes, I remember. This....this is my husband, Mark.

MARK: Lieutenant (he has one arm protectively around his wife but reaches out with the other to shake hands with Columbo).

COLUMBO (Shakes hands): Mr. Benson. (Turns back to Ruth) I'm really sorry to intrude on you during this, but I just wanted to ask you if there was anything else you might be able to tell me that you didn't get a chance to on the phone the other day.

RUTH (shakes her head): No. No, nothing at all, Lieutenant. There's nothing else I can say.

COLUMBO: I didn't think so, but I still had to make sure as long as you were out here. Say, where's your new baby?

RUTH: He's being looked after in New York, Lieutenant. It's too early for him to do any kind of traveling.

COLUMBO: I see. Boy, right?

MARK: Yes. Robert Fenton Benson. (Shakes his head sadly) And poor Fred never got a chance to see Bobby. That's what hurts the most.

COLUMBO: Bobby Fenton......boy there's something that sounds familiar about that name to me.

RUTH: Oh it should, Lieutenant if you've been watching my father's game shows over the years. Bob Fenton was the announcer on all the shows.

COLUMBO (Hits hand against his forehead): That's right, Bob Fenton. I remember him on "What's The Secret?"

RUTH: I loved him. He was like a favorite uncle to me when I was growing up.

COLUMBO: I see. Yeah, I remember how he used to warm up the audience in the theater before every show with funny monologues and all that. Great guy. (Glances over at Wyatt, who is talking to Heller) You've talked to Mr. Wyatt?

RUTH (her expression suddenly grows cold): No. And I doubt I'll ever have any reason to speak to him again.

COLUMBO: Oh. You and he don't get along?

MARK: Lieutenant, my wife really doesn't feel like talking about this any longer. If there's anything else you need to know, you can call her in New York the day after tomorrow.

COLUMBO: Well I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to pester you with annoying questions on a day like this, it's just ah.....

RUTH: Just what, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Actually, Mrs. Benson, I'd appreciate it if you and I could talk someplace privately. Mr. Benson you can come with us, but I really wouldn't want anyone else to hear this.

RUTH (Glancing at her husband): Maybe we should, Mark. I'd rather put this all behind me today.

MARK: If that's what you want to do.

RUTH: We could have lunch downtown at our hotel if that would be okay.

COLUMBO: That'd be fine, I'd really appreciate that. Where are you staying?

RUTH: The Hilton.

COLUMBO: I'll be down there, and I think Mrs. Benson, after this we probably won't need to talk much further about this.

MARK: We'll meet you there, Lieutenant. Unless you need a lift?

COLUMBO: Oh no, no. I've got my own car. It can get me there in no time at all.

[Mark and Ruth move away toward the cemetery exit. Columbo moves over to where Heller and Wyatt have been conversing. They are still standing by the plot, gazing down at the now lowered casket]

WYATT: Oh, Lieutenant. I thought I recognized you. What brings you here?

COLUMBO: Well, I just needed to catch up with Mrs. Benson and get a few words with her. I'll be on my way to have lunch with her a little later on. But, as long as you're both here, I might as well ask you a couple of other questions I think you might be able to help me with.

HELLER: Sure, Lieutenant. Fire away.

COLUMBO: Ah, Mr. Wyatt, I'm curious about something. You have an office on the same level as Mr. Williamson does at the studio?

WYATT: Yes, I do.

COLUMBO: And your office overlooks the back parking lot like his does?

WYATT: Yes.

COLUMBO: Mr. Heller, do you have an office on that level too?

HELLER: I do.

COLUMBO: Which of you is closer to Mr. Williamson's office?

WYATT: I am, Lieutenant. He's about three doors down from me.

COLUMBO: I see. And who has the offices in between?

WYATT: No one, Lieutenant. They're all vacant at the moment. Those studio offices are rented out to the production companies that are using the facilities so there's never anyone permanent there.

COLUMBO: Okay. Now ah, both of you, if you were inside your office and someone happened to be in the back lot by the windows, you think you'd notice that?

WYATT (Frowning): I ah, don't think I follow you, Lieutenant.

HELLER: Me neither.

COLUMBO: I'm just asking that if someone was by the window outside either of your offices, you'd notice wouldn't you?

HELLER (Shrugs): I guess I would, but what's important about that?

COLUMBO: Well, you see, there's something about Mr. Williamson's death that's bothering me just a little bit. And, I wondered if maybe either of you could help me on this.

WYATT (Feeling an alarm bell go off): What's bothering you, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Well....it's not something I can put my finger on just yet, but I was wondering if either of you might have seen any strangers or mysterious people who were trying to see him at any time in the last week.

HELLER: No. Fred didn't see anyone the entire time he was out here. I don't think anyone on the staff other than the two of us even knew he was here, right John?

WYATT (Nodding): Right.

COLUMBO: And there were never any odd phone calls from people asking to see Mr. Williamson for whatever reason?

WYATT: Not that I know of.

HELLER: I never heard any.

COLUMBO: I see. (Rubs his head). The funny thing is, I'm beginning to think that someone was either watching Mr. Williamson's office or was meeting him secretly while he was out here.

WYATT (His frown deepens, but inside he knows what Columbo's discovered): Ah, why would you say that, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Well, it has to do with the footprints outside his office window.

HELLER: Footprints?

COLUMBO: Yeah, I was checking his office the other day and I happened to look out the window and saw that there were some pretty heavy indentations in the grass outside his office window. Now there's no way to figure out who those footprints belonged to, but it's clear that someone either on the day Mr. Williamson died or not long before that, was standing outside his office window. And that just doesn't make any sense.

WYATT (Nods): Because the office overlooks the parking lot no one uses. I.....see what you mean, Lieutenant.

HELLER: But does that really mean anything, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Maybe it doesn't Mr. Heller, but it's just the kind of loose end that always bothers me whenever I'm working on a case.

WYATT: Well I can see your point about someone watching his office, but what's that part about someone seeing him secretly?

COLUMBO: Well, I'm pretty sure that Mr. Williamson on at least one occasion let that person who was standing outside his window into the office. You see, the windows can only be opened from the inside and there's no way someone can climb easily into them without help even if they are open.

WYATT: But how do you know this person was in the office?

COLUMBO: Well, there's the matter of some dirt stains in the carpet near Mr. Williamson's desk. Now that dirt wasn't tracked in from the hallway. That part of his office was spotless. But just right around his desk in the back and front of it, there it was. No, I'm pretty sure that whoever was outside Mr. Williamson's office was someone he knew, because there's no way a man like him would open his office window for a total stranger.

HELLER (Baffled): Lieutenant, I wouldn't have a clue what to make about that.

WYATT: Neither would I. You ah (lowers his voice) you're not suggesting he was squiring away a mistress for a secret rendezvous?

COLUMBO: Well, that's always possible, true, but.....not exactly plausible. Mr. Williamson was a widower, right?

WYATT: Yes. For more than ten years.

COLUMBO: I mean a widower or a divorced man could just meet a mistress whenever he wanted to without having to worry about anything, and why do it in a place like the studio office when there are plenty of hotels all over Los Angeles?

WYATT: True.

HELLER: Lieutenant, if all of this doesn't really mean anything, I think you ought to just drop it. Ruth has been through enough, and I think it'd be terrible to unearth some kind of dirty laundry about her father after a tragedy like this.

COLUMBO: I'm sorry, Mr. Heller, I can't do that. Suicide is still a crime, and that means it has to be investigated to the fullest detail. And that means that every loose end I'm finding in this case has to be looked at.

WYATT: I respect your positon on that, Lieutenant, but I do hope you keep things discrete in terms of whatever information you might uncover. And since what you uncover is of interest to me as Fred's partner, I hope you'll be forthcoming with me about what you find.

COLUMBO: Oh, I intend to, Mr. Wyatt. (Smiles) You will definitely find out everything I learn about this investigation. That's a promise.

[Columbo turns and walks away. Wyatt is staring at his retreating form with a hardened expression while Heller is shaking his head in amazement]

HELLER: What a screwball that guy is.

WYATT: I wonder. (Shakes his head) I wonder.
 

Scene Twelve

[A Downtown hotel restaurant. Ruth and Mark are waiting for Columbo with a slight air of impatience. Finally, they see him make his way over to their table]

COLUMBO: Sorry, I'm late. They wouldn't park my car for me, can you believe that? Even after I showed them my police ID they wouldn't do it. Sometimes these hotel people can really develop quite an attitude.

RUTH: Is there something about your car they don't like, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO (shrugs): Can't imagine what they couldn't like about it. It's a nice little French car.

MARK: We've ah.....already ordered, Lieutenant. Here's the menu.

COLUMBO: Oh don't bother, I know what I want.

MARK: Waiter! (A tuxedo clad waiter comes up to their table) Our final member has arrived.

WAITER: Yes sir. What can I bring you?

COLUMBO: Ah, you got any chili?

WAITER (Eyes widening in disgust): I beg your pardon?

COLUMBO: Chili. You know: : : :

WAITER: I know what it is. Sir, this is not that kind of restaurant!

COLUMBO: Oh well, that's okay, ah....how about a hot dog? With extra mustard?

WAITER (Seemingly on the verge of apoplexy): Sir, we only offer that on our children's menu!

COLUMBO: Oh, is that right? Well ah, gee, you think you could make an exception?

WAITER (Counting to ten inside):  If that is what you want, then yes, I suppose we can. One hot dog with extra mustard. And to drink?

COLUMBO: Oh. Large root beer. (The Waiter walks away, wanting to bang his head against the wall).

RUTH (Amused): You're clearly a man of very simple tastes, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: I guess so. I know there's fancier stuff on the menu here, but I'd rather cook those kinds of dishes like veal parmesan myself at home. Cheaper to do it that way and have all the simple food when I eat out. Besides, my wife hates chili and hot dogs. She won't ever let me have them at home.

MARK: My sympathies, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Well, she means well. Now anyway (he pulls out a cigar and is halfway to putting it in his mouth when he sees their expressions) Oh sorry, I guess I shouldn't. Anyway, the reason why I wanted to talk to you, Mrs. Benson, is because I wanted a chance to ask you in private if your father knew anyone who might have a reason for killing him.

RUTH (Jolted): What?

COLUMBO: I know that's an unexpected question, Mrs. Benson, but you see ah. (The waiter arrives with Columbo's root beer and sets it down quickly so he can walk away as soon as he can) Thank you. (Sips it) You see, the more I've been investigating your father's death, the more I'm becoming convinced that it wasn't a suicide.

MARK: But Lieutenant, what makes you say that? There was a suicide note.

COLUMBO: I'm...having my doubts as to the authenticity of that note. And to be honest, it was what you told me, Mrs. Benson, that first made me think there wasn't something right about the whole suicide business.

RUTH: What I told you?

COLUMBO: Yes, about your last conversation with him, just a couple hours before he died. He was really upbeat about wanting to see your new baby. Now, I just can't see someone taking his life a couple hours later just because the ratings of his TV program aren't good when there are more important things in life like a new grandchild. Your father just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd take his own life.

RUTH: Well, I'd agree with that Lieutenant, but... (slow dawn comes to her) Are you saying then, that my father was murdered?

COLUMBO (Stoically): I think he was, ma'am. I'm pretty certain that he had a visitor to his office that he let in through the window for a private meeting. And during that meeting, I think the visitor killed him and set things up to make it look like suicide and then went out the window again.

MARK: But who?

COLUMBO: Well, I've got one suspect in mind, but I really would prefer not to divulge a name at the moment because I don't have any proof that could connect this suspect to the identity of the visitor.

RUTH: Lieutenant, you keep saying this killer visited my father. What makes you think it wasn't an intruder?

COLUMBO: It couldn't have been an intruder, ma'am. Your father would have had to help whoever it was in through the window. There's no question in my mind that whoever murdered him had to be someone he was acquainted with, if he was willing to let that person in through that way.

RUTH: I see. (Shakes her head) But I can't think of anyone he knew who hated him that much. He's known most of those people in the company for decades.

COLUMBO: People like Mr. Heller, the director?

RUTH: Yes, Mike's one of the few people left who go back to the New York days.

COLUMBO: The contestant co: ordinator, Miss Chan?

RUTH: Yes.

COLUMBO: And of course, Mr. Wyatt.

RUTH (Rolls her eyes slightly in disgust): Oh, well yes of course.

COLUMBO (Takes another sip of root beer): That's really interesting, Mrs. Benson. I get the feeling you don't think too highly of Mr. Wyatt.

RUTH: I don't and I never did.

COLUMBO: How come?

RUTH (takes a breath): He's.....he's always struck me as a little weird. He's so.....obsessed with the game shows that you could never talk to him about anything else. It's been that way since the beginning. When I was growing up, he used to come over to our house for dinner or parties with Mike Heller and Bob Fenton and some of the other people in the company, but after awhile Daddy wouldn't let him come over any longer. He could never loosen up and learn how to leave work behind at the office when the day was over. Everytime he came over he always wanted to talk about some new game show concept or some new program idea, or the latest program they'd just aired. He just didn't know how to branch out.

COLUMBO: I see. So you wouldn't say that your father and Mr. Wyatt were close friends?

RUTH: Oh....they were friends. I wouldn't want to say that they weren't, it's just that.......they weren't chummy. Dad admired and respected Mr. Wyatt, and on the job he could be just as obsessed with work as he was. It's just that, well....Daddy always knew how to leave the work behind once the day was over. Mr. Wyatt didn't.

COLUMBO: Okay. (Takes another swallow of his root beer and then looks up to see the waiter bringing lunch. He sets down a Chef's Salad for Ruth, a honey mustard chicken entree for Mark, and finally with distaste sets down Columbo's hot dog). Boy, that looks good. (Waiter says nothing and leaves. Columbo spreads the mustard across and takes a bite) There's one other thing. How wealthy a man would you say your father was?

RUTH (picking at her Chef's Salad): Oh....depending on your perspective, I'd say he was wealthy. The net worth was probably a little more than a couple million dollars overall.

COLUMBO: Do you anything about who he might have left money to in his will?

MARK: I acted as his attorney in drawing that up, Lieutenant. I can tell you that he was generous with long time friends to leave $5000 to Mr. Heller and some of the other staff members who go back many years, but nothing higher than that.

COLUMBO (Takes another bite): What about Mr. Wyatt?

MARK: John isn't mentioned in the will, Lieutenant. But there is the matter of the Life Insurance policy.

COLUMBO (His mouth is still full): Life insurance policy?

MARK: It's something that goes back to the late 50s, when Wyatt/Williamson became the top game show company in the business. Because Fred and John complemented each other to the point where neither could ever do the work of the other if something happened to one of them, they had a life insurance policy that would pay big money for potential loss of revenue in case one of them ever died.

COLUMBO (amazed): Isn't that something. How much was this worth?

MARK: At least six figures.

COLUMBO: That's amazing. So in other words, Mr. Williamson's death helps Mr. Wyatt out from a financial standpoint.

RUTH: Yes. (An air of bitterness creeps into her voice) Dad had actually forgotten about the policy because it had been so long since Wyatt: Williamson put out another game show. I hadn't heard him mention it in years, and Mark didn't even know about it either until the insurance company phoned us yesterday before we flew out. (Shakes her head) I'm not angry about it because it makes us any less off than we could be, Lieutenant. My father made sure we were taken care of, and his net worth is more than enough to provide for our son's future. But I still think it's not right that Mr. Wyatt would be able to profit like that at a time when Dad seemed like he was just about ready to consider giving up game shows forever.

COLUMBO: I see. (Finishes off his hot dog and takes another sip of root beer). Mr. and Mrs. Benson, thanks for your time and for lunch. Ah....before I go, let me make sure that I (pulls out his wallett and start to fumble through it).

MARK: Lieutenant, don't worry about that. This is our treat.

COLUMBO: No, I appreciate that but I can't accept. This is all on department time. (Pulls out a ten) Should this cover it?

MARK (faintly amused): It should.

COLUMBO (Rises): I'll be in touch with you as soon as I develop anything more substantive in the investigation. Thanks again.

RUTH: Lieutenant! (Columbo stops and turns around) This.....suspect you mentioned. Did you mean Mr. Wyatt?

COLUMBO (Keeps his expression level): I can't answer that, Mrs. Benson. Not yet at least. I don't have anything remotely substantive at this point and I wouldn't want to prejudice either of your minds for now, especially if I turned out to be wrong.

[Ruth and Mark both nod in understanding, squeezing each other's hands as Columbo walks out]
 

Scene Thirteen

[The Winning Streak set. Wyatt, in shirtsleeves is conferring with several of the stage managers and technical people]

WYATT: I don't know. You think maybe we should change the Bonus Round Board to more of a dark blue backdrop? The more I see this, the more I think the light blue is a little too much pastel shade.

TECHNICIAN: I think it'd spruce it up a bit. Give it less of a fakey kind of look.

WYATT: How soon could you have it repainted?

TECHNICIAN: Probably not in time for the next taping session, but for certain the one after that.

WYATT: Okay, that'll be our next order of business. (Jim the stagehand enters the studio and comes up to Wyatt)

JIM: Mr. Wyatt, there's a phone call for you. It's Mr. Durkin.

WYATT (Eyebrow goes up): Okay, I'll take it in my office.
 

Scene Fourteen

[Wyatt enters his office, sits down and picks up the phone]

WYATT: Hello, Phil?

DURKIN (Seated in his office, looking like he's bitten into a lemon): I thought I'd let you know that I talked to New York and repeated everything you had to say to me.

WYATT (Leans forward): And?

DURKIN: I want you to know John, that what I think you're doing is extortion. You're exploiting Fred's death to serve your own interests, and that's sick.

WYATT: Cut the crap, Phil. Get to the point. What did those bigwigs have to say?

DURKIN (Takes a breath): They agreed that out of respect to you and to Fred, "Winning Streak" will get a 39 week guaranteed renewal for now.

WYATT (non-plussed): And?

DURKIN: We'll agree to take a serious look at up to two pilots you develop over the next two years. No promise that they'll go on the air, but if we reject them, we won't leave you in financial difficulty in the process.

WYATT: That sounds reasonable. At least you're willing to give us some time to find a niche, Phil, and I suppose I should be grateful for that.

DURKIN (Angrily): Don't put up this phony modesty bit, John. Okay, maybe you had a legit point or two about how guys like me treated the game show companies like dirt for too long, and maybe we did lead to the decline of quality daytime TV by doing that. But what you're doing is siezing a tragedy to serve your own self: centered ends.

WYATT (coldly): You bastards are the ones who brought on the tragedy, Phil. Try to remember that before you start throwing rocks back at me. At any rate, now that you've finally come to bat for a change, I'll reciprocate and give only dignified interviews to the press from here on. (He hangs up and sits back in his chair, shaking his head in disgust, then raises his arms over his head. What he has just said about the network executives bringing on the tragedy is something he completely believes. He is absolutely convinced that he never would have felt compelled to murder Fred Williamson had it not been for what the TV executives had done to game shows through the years)

COLUMBO (pokes his head in): Mr. Wyatt?

WYATT (Comes forward in chair): Oh, Lieutenant! What are you doing here?

COLUMBO (enters): Sorry I had to bother you, sir, but.....I'm afraid there are a few more loose ends I need to deal with.

WYATT (sighs with resignation): Sit down, Lieutenant. What do you need to know now?

COLUMBO (Sits down): Well... (his gaze shifts to the other side where he sees the numerous awards on the shelf) Are those Emmy Awards?

WYATT: Yes, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Do you mind if I take a look at those? I've never seen one of those up close in real life?

WYATT (Not wanting to sound impatient): Go right ahead, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO (Goes over to the shelf and shakes his head in fascination at the row of six Emmy Awards): You mind if I hold one of these for a sec?

WYATT: Not a bit. Just be careful you don't drop them.

COLUMBO: Oh, I'd never let myself do anything like that, no sir. (Gently picks one up and looks admiringly at it) I'll tell 'ya, I've always thought the Emmy Award was a more beautiful trophy than the Oscar.

WYATT: Yeah, I'd agree with you too, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: "Best Game Show, 1955, What's The Secret". Oh boy, that brings back warm memories.

WYATT: So you've told me before, Lieutenant. Oh that reminds me, is your wife interested in trying out for the show?

COLUMBO (Sets the award down): Well, I tried to tell her she'd be perfect for the kind of game this show is, but......I'm afraid she's a very shy woman at heart. I think the idea of being on TV is what terrifies her too much.

WYATT: I see. Sorry to hear that, I would have loved to have met her.

COLUMBO: Oh, and she would have loved to have met you too, Mr. Wyatt. She always used to tell me when we were going to see "What's The Secret?" how she had a bit of a crush on you. WYATT: (Smiles thinly) I'm flattered.

COLUMBO (Sits down): You never married, Mr. Wyatt?

WYATT (Shakes head sadly): No, I'm afraid I never had the time. I've always been wedded to the business. It literally consumes me all 24 hours of the day. I never had what it took to find time for a family, unlike Fred, who lived long enough to have his first grandson.

COLUMBO: Yeah, I understand I've met a lot of people like that through the years. It's nothing to be ashamed about though. (Opens his notebook)

WYATT: So, to get back to business, Lieutenant, what did you need to know?

COLUMBO (Looking at notebook): Mr. Wyatt, is it true that you and Mr. Williamson had some kind of joint life insurance policy that paid pretty big money in case either one of you ever died?

WYATT (Frowns): I beg your pardon?

COLUMBO: I talked to Mr. Williamson's daughter yesterday and she mentioned that there was some kind of life insurance policy dating all the way back to the early days of Wyatt: Williamson Productions......

WYATT (Shakes his head as though he's had a sudden burst of recogntion): Oh, good God, yes. I'd totally forgotten about that, I...

COLUMBO (eyes widen): You forgot about it, Mr. Wyatt? According to Mrs. Benson, the policy is six figures at least and that was in the 50s.

WYATT: Lieutenant, that policy is something Fred and I came up with at a time when we first hit the big time and over the years it became just a formality to us. The premiums are paid off automatically every month by a corporate checking account so I never spend a moment of my time attending to it. The corporate and financial matters were all part of Fred's end of the business.

COLUMBO: I understand that, Mr. Wyatt, but are you saying that the insurance company hasn't even been in touch with you since Mr. Williamson's death? It's been more than four days now.

WYATT: No, they haven't Lieutenant. I haven't been dealing with any business matters or business calls since Fred died. If they've called Fred's office in New York, then they haven't forwarded that information to me yet.

COLUMBO: I see. So in other words, it's just a bureaucratic mix: up that explains why you haven't found out yet, and it was something that you took for granted so much over the years you just finally forgot about the policy after awhile.

WYATT: Well, if you want to put it that way, that would explain matters.

COLUMBO (leans forward): It's not how I want to put it Mr. Wyatt, it's how you put it that interests me.

WYATT: The manner in which you described events is exactly what happened in my case.

COLUMBO: Okay. (Makes a note and chews on his cigar some more)

WYATT: Lieutenant, why is this of any interest to you? What does this insurance policy have to do with explaining Fred's suicide?

COLUMBO (Not looking up at him): Mr. Wyatt, I'm no longer convinced that your partner's death was a suicide.

WYATT (Raises an eyebrow but makes no other visible reaction as he leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind him): If it wasn't a suicide, what could it be? An accident? Fred taking a chaser and not realizing it was poison?

COLUMBO: No sir, I think it was murder.

WYATT (Says nothing at first and leans forward again): Ah, Lieutenant, this is a very secure and crowded studio. Who could have gone into Fred's office and murdered him?

COLUMBO: Oh not through the front door sir. Through the window.

WYATT: Oh yes, the window. (Turns around in his chair and looks out the window) Yes, I remember you saying yesterday at the cemetery that you thought someone was watching Fred's office and that he was having a secret meeting with someone for reasons unknown, though you didn't think it was for a lover's rendezvous.

COLUMBO: You got a good memory, Mr. Wyatt.

WYATT: Remembering a conversation yesterday is a lot different from remembering a financial matter that I haven't had a direct hand in for more than thirty years like that policy, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO (Smiles and chuckles lightly): Touche, sir.

WYATT (Turns around again and smirks at Columbo):  So, if I add things up now, you think this person Fred was meeting killed him.

COLUMBO: I do, sir.

WYATT: Do you have any ideas who it might be?

COLUMBO: Well, I could get a handle on that if you could tell me where you were in the studio at 12:40, the time the suicide note was printed out on Mr. Williamson's computer. Obviously the killer had to have done that.

WYATT: Oh that means I'm a suspect, I take.

COLUMBO: No sir, I'm asking this question of every other employee at the studio who have offices at this level including you, Mr. Heller, Miss Chan.

WYATT: I see. Well I'm afraid Lieutenant that you can eliminate every single person who has an office on this level from suspicion.

COLUMBO: Why?

WYATT: Because all of us, Lieutenant were in the studio at exactly 12:40 taking part in the taping session. The time log for that show was 12:25 to 12:50. If you want, you're free to watch the tape of the show and you'll see the names of the entire production staff on the end credits. They were all in the studio at the time Fred died.

COLUMBO: I'll do that. (Makes a note then looks up) But of course, that wouldn't settle the matter, Mr. Wyatt. Even though the printout reads 12:40, I know from past experience that it's possible to redo the clock on a computer and then reset it so nothing looks suspicious.

WYATT: Possible, Lieutenant, but that of course is something you could not prove directly.

COLUMBO (Smiles and shakes his head): No sir, I couldn't do that. (Rises) Where can I watch that tape of the show?

WYATT: You can watch it here, Lieutenant. I keep a machine in my office to playback the tapes of all programs we've taped just after they're done. If I've made a mistake, I want to spot it right away before the next program begins. (Goes over to shelf and pulls down tape marked #68) This is the program we did then. You make yourself comfortable.

COLUMBO: You care to watch with me, Mr. Wyatt?

WYATT (Smiles as he pops the tape into the machine): No, Lieutenant. I need to get back to the tech crew out on the set, and I'll probably be tied up with them for the rest of the afternoon. When you're done watching, you can let yourself out. (Hands him a remote control) You know how to operate these machines?

COLUMBO: Oh yeah, no problem. I know a lot about VCR's, and universal remotes and all that. Played a big part in my last case as a matter of fact.

WYATT: Really? You should tell me about it sometime. Good day, Lieutenant. (He departs, and Columbo relaxes in the chair as he points the remote at the set)

ANNOUNCER (on TV): From Hollywood, it's television's exciting new game show.......
 
 
 

Scene Fifteen

[Two hours later, twilight. Wyatt, now wearing suit jacket, walks out of the studio entrance into the main parking lot, his stride brisk. As he nears his car, he freezes when he sees Columbo sitting in the open driver's side door of his ancient Puegot, which is parked next to Wyatt's Cadillac.]

WYATT (deciding not to remain completely placid): Lieutenant, what is the meaning of this? If you needed to talk to me after you were done with the tape, you could have found me in the studio like I said.

COLUMBO (Gets out of his car): I know sir, but I really felt that we should talk in private, and not in front of the other members of your production crew.

WYATT: For what reason?

COLUMBO: Well sir, I finished that tape. And......(puts hand to head and rubs it) There was one thing that I really didn't understand. When that gentleman contestant came out toward the end of the program, the retired lawyer?

WYATT: Oh yes. Mr. Robertson. What about him?

COLUMBO: You got to talking about his new granddaughter, and you mentioned right on the air about how your partner had just had his first grandchild.

WYATT: Yes, I thought it was appropriate since I hadn't been able to mention that on the air before. What's not to understand about that?

COLUMBO: Well sir, it's not that you mentioned Mr. Williamson's grandson that I didn't understand, it's.....(pauses and shakes his head) How did you know that they were naming the boy after Bob Fenton?

WYATT (Frowning): What?

COLUMBO: How did you know that Mr. Williamson's grandson was named after Bob Fenton, your old announcer from "What's The Secret?"

WYATT: Because Fred told me that.

COLUMBO: That's interesting sir. When did Mr. Williamson tell you that?

WYATT: Oh....gosh, I believe it was before he came out to LA. I hadn't had any time to talk with him after he got out here.

COLUMBO (Shakes his head): Mr. Wyatt, would you be prepared to swear to that?

WYATT: Of course.

COLUMBO (Pauses): What if I were to tell you Mr. Wyatt, that Mrs. Benson says she didn't tell her father about the baby's name until she talked to him on the phone just two hours before he died?

WYATT (Inside, he feels like he just took a blow to the stomach, but outside he manages to keep his face from betraying any emotion): In that case, Lieutenant, I think Ruth is sadly mistaken. Fred told me that she planned to name the baby after Bob Fenton almost two or three days before he came out here.

COLUMBO: Mr. Wyatt...

WYATT (his voice grows cold, but his face doesn't change): Lieutenant, I know what you're getting at. And let me tell you something, it's not going to work. Are you trying to tell me that Ruth never once at any time in the last nine months since she got pregnant mentioned to her own father that she was thinking of naming the baby after Bob Fenton if it were a boy? Could you get her to swear to something like that? And more importantly, would any DA worth his salt get her to swear to something like that, let alone find a jury that would believe something like that?

COLUMBO (Realizing that Wyatt has successfully deflected the matter. He had been ready to arrest him, but now realizes he's one piece of the puzzle short): No, you make a good point, Mr. Wyatt. I suppose then, your explanation is that you merely assumed that it was a done deal that the baby was being named after Bob Fenton when you made that remark on the program.

WYATT: Of course, Lieutenant. (His cold angry tone rises) Now if there are no other loose ends for you to deal with, kindly step aside and let me go home.

COLUMBO: Very well, Mr. Wyatt. (He steps aside and Wyatt gets into his car and closes the door. Columbo then taps on the window and Wyatt coldly lowers it) I think you should know that while there's not enough evidence to hold you, there is enough to keep you under police surveillance for now.

WYATT: I have no intention of leaving the country, Lieutenant. Tomorrow, I have a taping session to attend to. (He pulls out two tickets from his breast pocket) You and Mrs. Columbo are welcome to come see it. Make it a date just like the old days when you sat in the audience for "What's The Secret?" After all these years, we're still cheaper than going to the movies. (He stuffs the tickets in the pocket of Columbo's raincoat, starts the car and pulls out. Columbo watches him leave and then shakes his head in mild frustration)
 

Scene Sixteen

[A largely deserted Parker Center. Columbo uncharacteristically has his raincoat off as he makes his way down the corridor to Sergeant Clay's office]

COLUMBO (Knocks): Sergeant? (No answer so he knocks again) Sergeant? (He turns the knob, finds it's unlocked so he opens the door and enters.)

[Clay's office is relatively neat and tidy, a stark contrast from Columbo's own. Behind the desk, is a computer to one side. Columbo frowns when he sees the animated image of a butterfly on the computer screen. He is still staring at it, when Clay, in shirtsleeves and carrying a box with two cups of coffee enters]

CLAY (Frowning): Lieutenant?

COLUMBO (Turns around): Oh, hello Sergeant. Glad you're here. One of those black?

CLAY: Wouldn't have it any other way, sir. (Hands him one of the cups and moves behind his own desk where he sits the box down) Anything more on the Williamson case?

COLUMBO (Sighs): I've been racking my brains all evening. We're one piece short, Sergeant. One piece is all we need to wrap this thing up, but it's still out of reach. That's why I wanted to see if you'd be willing to work late and see what we can come up with.

CLAY (Nods): I'm happy to do that, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: All right, let's start with all the statements we've taken from Wyatt. I've got my originals here. (Pulls out notebooks from suitjacket pocket and drops them on the table) Think you can retype these for the official copies?

CLAY: Sure. Let me just open up the word processing system. (He puts his hand on the mouse and abruptly the animated butterfly is gone and the normal image of WordPerfect is on the screen)

COLUMBO: Hey, what happened there?

CLAY: What do you mean, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: How'd you get your computer to do that? To have that butterfly going across the screen and then you just made it disappear?

CLAY (Still amused at how he has to explain these things since Columbo's office still doesn't have a computer): There's nothing much about it, Lieutenant, it's just the screensaver.

COLUMBO: Screensaver?

CLAY: Yeah. You see if you leave your computer on too long while you're not using it, that can sometimes be bad for the monitor and the so the screensaver feature acts as kind of an automatic shutoff for the monitor after a certain length of time that you haven't touched anything on the computer. Then, when you come back, and touch the mouse or anything else on the computer, the screen instantly comes back on. That way, the monitor cools without shutting the whole power off and going through a start: up procedure again.

COLUMBO: I see. Yeah, that makes sense. But what's the butterfly got to do with it?

CLAY: Screensavers are specialized, Lieutenant. Some of them will just have the screen go blank after a few minutes, and others will have some kind of fancy animation to act as the screensaver. The butterfly is just one option I've got for a screensaver. That way when someone comes in and sees the butterfly, they know the computer is on.

COLUMBO: I get it. That's really cute, the way they build those things in. Maybe I should finally get a computer for my house.

CLAY: They're worth having, Lieutenant. (Pulls out notebook) Okay, Lieutenant, let's start with the original statement you took from Wyatt when you arrived and work our way forward.

Scene Seventeen

[A montage of Clay and Columbo at work, sipping coffee and going over the statements. Finally, a pan in to the clock which reads 1 AM. When the camera pulls back, we see a disheveled and exhausted Columbo and Clay both raising their coffee cups with expressions of triumph]

COLUMBO (Raising his cup): Congratulations, Sergeant. We've found it.

CLAY (Grins): My pleasure, Lieutenant. (They both drink)

Scene Eighteen

[Wyatt walks down the corridor to his office, having completed the last of the five shows of the taping session. He hands his jacket to Jim, then opens the door to his office. Cut to the POV of Wyatt entering from the inside. He freezes when he sees Columbo sitting in front of him]

WYATT: What are you doing here?

[Columbo rises from the chair. His expression serious and grave]

COLUMBO: Mr. Wyatt, would you come with me to Mr. Williamson's office?

WYATT: What for?

COLUMBO: There's something I think you should see.

WYATT: Lieutenant, I've just finished a pretty exhausting taping session.

COLUMBO: I know, I watched the shows in the audience. Thanks for that ticket you gave me. That was really exciting that last show when the lady won, what was it.....$40,000?

WYATT: Yes. I've never had a bigger bonus round victory than that in all the shows I've hosted.

COLUMBO: I'll tell you, seeing how she was under all that pressure really makes me see why I could never have handled that. (Pause) But I'm not here because of that, Mr. Wyatt. Would you please come with me to Mr. Williamson's office?

WYATT (Sighs): Very well. As if I have no other choice. (They leave the office, and walk down the corridor. When they reach the door to Williamson's office, they stop, and Columbo looks at him with the most dead: serious expression Wyatt's ever seen on him)

COLUMBO: Mr. Wyatt, before we go in, there's just one more thing I want to be sure of. (Pulls out notebook) Now when I asked you the other day about why you didn't try to revive Mr. Williamson after you and Mr. Heller found him, you said that one of the reasons was because when you entered, you saw the suicide note on the computer screen.

WYATT: Yes.

COLUMBO (Gravely): Mr. Wyatt, that is simply not possible.

WYATT: Why isn't it, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Because you couldn't have seen anything on Mr. Williamson's computer when you entered that room.

WYATT (Holding his ground): Why couldn't I have, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Because of this. (He opens the door to the office and they walk in. They move toward the desk and Columbo stops.) Take a look at the screen, Mr. Wyatt. What do you see?

WYATT: I don't see anything. But come on Lieutenant, the power on it is off.

COLUMBO: No sir, it's not off. (He moves toward the computer and puts his hand on the mouse. Abruptly, the screen comes on and on it, is the suicide note). Only the monitor was off, because the computer's screensaver had been activated. You see, when the power is on, but no one uses the computer for more than five minutes, the screensaver kicks in and shuts the monitor off. Some computers do that with fancy animation like my sergeant's computer at the office, but Mr. Williamson evidently didn't think he needed something that fancy. His was just a blank screen for the screensaver.

WYATT: What is this proving, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO (Looks him in the eye): It proves Mr. Wyatt, that you killed your partner.

WYATT (Folds his arms, looks off into space and sighs): Lieutenant, how could I kill him at 12:40 when I was onstage hosting the show?

COLUMBO: That part's easy, sir. You simply reprogrammed the clock twice, first to the incorrect time for the printout, then back to the normal time before you left. You in all likelihood killed him during the break between shows when you were in your office supposedly watching the previous show on tape. Your stagehand said you left orders not to be disturbed during that time, so that gave you at least 20 minutes to slip out your office window, go into Mr.Williamson's office, kill him and then return to your office the same way.

WYATT (Smiles thinly): Lieutenant, I think you've forgotten something.

COLUMBO: Have I?

WYATT: Lieutenant, when you spoke to me, you said that Fred had to have known whoever was in his office because no one could get in through the windows from the outside without help. Now if that's the case, how could I have returned to my office through the window?

COLUMBO: Well, you're right, Mr. Wyatt, I did say that to you at the cemetery. But, I made a little mistake there because I was letting my own experience climbing out the window weigh too heavily on my mind. Now me, with my height, I'd have to have help to get back in. But you're different, Mr. Wyatt. You're more than six feet one, so that means you could get back into your office by yourself.

WYATT: Then that means, Lieutenant, that you can't rule out the fact that a tall intruder got into Fred's office and killed him.

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I can rule that out. If it was an intruder climbing in through the window, then whatever was there to stop Mr. Williamson from crying out for help, or running out of the office? (Holds up a hand) But let's return to the heart of the matter, Mr. Wyatt, which is the screensaver.

WYATT: Lieutenant, I don't think I need to waste my time here any longer.

COLUMBO: Mr. Wyatt, if the screensaver was active at the time you entered the office, then you could not have seen the suicide note.

WYATT: Why are you assuming that the screensaver was active at the time?

COLUMBO: Because, Mr. Wyatt, this computer hasn't been touched by anyone other than police since Mr. Williamson was found dead. That accounted for why the note was visible when I arrived later. And your own statements, as well as Mr. Heller's, reveal that neither of you touched anything after you found Mr. Williamson. That means these are the settings that were in place at the time he was killed. And the settings are for the screensaver to kick in after five minutes.

WYATT: So?

COLUMBO: So, if Mr. Williamson killed himself at 12:40 when the note was printed out, then that means when you and Mr. Heller entered the office at 12:50, you could not have seen anything on that screen. (Pause) How could you have known there was a suicide note on a blank screen unless you had written that note yourself?

[Wyatt's facade suddenly cracks. His face muscles tighten visibly and his body starts to sag as he realizes that he has now been trapped]

COLUMBO: You want to sit down, Mr. Wyatt?

WYATT (weakly) :Yes. (Sits down in chair and lowers his head)

COLUMBO (Picks up phone and dials): Hello? Columbo. Let me speak to Sergeant Clay. (Pause) Sergeant, have a patrol car come by the studio to pick up Mr. Wyatt. No, don't send any officers into the building, I'll escort him out. (Hangs up and comes over to Wyatt, who has the expression of a sad, broken man. He looks at him with some sympathy) Can I get you a drink, Mr. Wyatt?

WYATT (Looking off into the distance, where he can see Williamson's Emmy Awards on the shelf): Yes. (Camera stays on him as Columbo goes to get drink. We then see Columbo's hand offering him a full glass of brandy. Wyatt takes it)

COLUMBO: Mr. Wyatt, there's just one last question that's puzzling me about the whole thing. (Pause) Why?

WYATT (Downs half of the drink and takes a breath): Why? (Smiles mirthlessly) Because Fred was going to dissolve the partnership as soon as Winning Streak was cancelled. (Shakes his head) Just like that, he wanted to end it. Wouldn't give me any more money to make new pilots to sell to the network. Wouldn't try to gladhand the network execs and advertisers any longer. If he did that, then I'd be finished forever in game shows. He was the only man who could sell them and get them on the air. Me.....I was the eccentric inventor and genial host, but I've never had an ounce of ability when it comes to running a company or handling the movers and shakers in the business.

COLUMBO: But why kill him, Mr. Wyatt? I mean, one way or the other, you lose your partner so what difference does it make either way?

WYATT: No. It'd be different if I made it look like Fred had killed himself. Because then, I could raise hell with the network boys about how their rotten treatment of game show producers like Fred and me down through the years was what killed him, and that would actually give me some leverage for the first time with them. (He shakes his head and chuckles mirthlessly) It actually paid off. Yesterday, the network gave Winning Streak a 39 week renewal beyond our original commitment. And they promised to look at some new pilots. I couldn't have done that if I wasn't able to wave Fred's bloody shirt in their faces.

COLUMBO: So the insurance money wasn't a factor?

WYATT (Looks at Columbo for the first time since sitting down): Lieutenant, I swear I was telling the truth when I said I'd forgotten about that old policy. I didn't need that insurance money to fund a new game show pilot if Fred had died without dissolving Wyatt: Williamson. There was still plenty left over for one more crack if Winning Streak didn't make it. The important thing was to act before Fred dissolved the company and left me out in the cold. (Looks away at the shelf with the Emmys again) Game shows have been the only thing that ever mattered to me in my life. If Fred walked out, then I'd have had absolutely no other reason left in this world to live. No family. No wife. No children. No other jobs I could ever feel happy doing. (Lowers his head) It's not right what they've been doing to game shows. Just not right. If the damned networks had given us a fair shake, it never would have come to this. Never.

COLUMBO (Shakes his head in sadness at the pathetic sight Wyatt has now become): Mr. Wyatt, you want to go now?

WYATT (Sighs): I guess so. (Gets up and looks at Columbo) Lieutenant, you've been asking me all the questions, but now I've got one. You knew this morning that I was guilty. You had the evidence then, didn't you?

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I did.

WYATT: Why didn't you arrest me before the taping session?

COLUMBO: There wasn't any rush. I knew you weren't going anywhere. Besides, (skips a beat), I've always given you and "What's The Secret" more than a little credit for bringing Mrs. Columbo and me together way back when. I figured that I owed it to you to let you do the thing you love most one last time.

WYATT (There are actually tears forming in his eyes): Thank you, Lieutenant. That means a lot to me. I appreciate that. (Shakes his head in amazement) You're a remarkably enigmatic man. I have a feeling you could have named a dozen words with h, a, and s back then if you wanted to.

[Columbo says nothing, but smiles at him as they walk out together. The Gil Melle composed theme music for Columbo plays over the End Titles]