Scene 1

 

[Opening shot shows downtown building, then close-up of sign on office door.    “Mishler and Allenby Rare Coin Galleries.”      Then cut inside to a darkened office where we see at a desk in shirtsleeves, CLIFF ALLENBY, co-director of the gallery.    He has several gold coins laid out on a tray and is carefully inspecting them with a magnifying glass and small table lamp.    To one side of the tray is a copy of a red leather book “Guidebook To United States Coins”, and as we pan further we see an elegantly illustrated book entitled, “The Wolfson Collection: August 20" which is five days away.   The book is clearly an auction catalog.]

 

[Camera zooms in on Allenby who is still examining the coins under his magnifying glass with deep intensity.     We can see a growing look of disgust come over him and he slowly shakes his head.]

 

ALLENBY: You greedy son-of-a-bitch.

 

 

Scene 2

 

[A once elegant mansion that now shows signs of having been stripped of numerous trappings as many hallways and corridors are now empty.      Seated at a table, idly holding a drink is PETER WOLFSON, a white-haired man in his late 60s wearing a tuxedo with the tie undone, indicating that he’s just returned from a formal dinner.    His mood seems one of resignation as he puts his drink down and idly goes over a copy of the same auction catalog we saw in Allenby’s office, “The Wolfson Collection.”    He is wrapped up in it and doesn’t hear the phone ring at first.    Finally, he picks it up on the third ring.]

 

WOLFSON: Hello?

 

ALLENBY: Pete?   It’s Cliff.   Glad I caught you.    I didn’t know if you’d be back from that dinner.

 

WOLFSON: (comes up in chair wondering if he should feel concerned).    What’s up?

 

ALLENBY: Think you can come down here?    I’m in the office, and there seems to be a snag or two related to a few items in the collection that I need you to help straighten out.   

 

WOLFSON: Cliff, can’t this wait until tomorrow?

 

ALLENBY: No it can’t, Pete.    This is rather serious business, and it’s best you and I discuss this in as private a setting as possible.

 

[Wolfson grips the phone tightly.    He feels as if his worst fears have just been confirmed.]

 

WOLFSON: All right, Cliff.   I’ll be downtown as soon as I can.

 

[He hangs up and slowly exhales.     Then, he looks about and spots the .22 revolver on his desk.   With only the slightest hesitation, he picks it up.    He has worried for days now about having to possibly use it, and now he feels as if he’s going to be left with no other choice.]

 

Scene 3

 

[A shot of a taxicab moving toward downtown Los Angeles.    In the back, through the dim glow of streelights is Wolfson, who is wearing a high collar trench coat, his head down.    He is determined to avoid all possible eye contact with the driver.      The cab then lets him out at a street corner that is five blocks away from the gallery.     We see him get out and start to walk through the largely empty streets, keeping his head generally down.     Finally, after a couple brief walking sequences, he reaches the front door for the office building that Mishler and Allenby is located in.    He presses the buzzer that has their name underneath.]

 

ALLENBY (O.C.): Yes?

 

WOLFSON: It’s me, Cliff.

 

(A buzzer sounds and Wolfson is able to open the door.    He walks down a short corridor and then up a set of stairs that leads to the offices for Mishler and Allenby.    The entire building is deserted and dark.    Through the darkness he can barely make out the sign for the gallery that prominently shows both Allenby and his late partner Ted Mishler smiling broadly for the camera.    He reaches the door and knocks.)

 

ALLENBY: Come in.   (Wolfson enters).   Ah, Pete.    Glad you could make it.

 

WOLFSON: (keeping his voice flat).    You said it was important.

 

ALLENBY: Yes, of course.    (Smiles wryly).   So how was the shindig?

 

WOLFSON: A colossal bore, but unfortunately a necessary evil.     The promoters offered me $5000 just to show up and be seen, and given my....current predicament, every last dollar counts.

 

ALLENBY: Yes, I can imagine.   (Shakes his head).    How did it come to that, Pete?    A guy with so many successful years in business, suddenly in the golden years of his life finds himself in bankruptcy and facing so much debt owed to the government?

 

WOLFSON: (Shrugs) If I knew the answer to that, Cliff, life would be a lot easier for me to come to terms with.

 

ALLENBY:  And it has to be real desperate for you to have decided to part with your coin collection just to raise money to pay off your debts.    All those years assembling the greatest private coin collection in this country and it has to be broken up on the auction bloc just to make the government happy.

 

WOLFSON: (feeling impatient)   Cliff, you’re beginning to remind me once again why I always preferred to do business with Ted.

 

ALLENBY: Ah yes, poor Ted.    My partner for lo these many years who sadly had to drop dead of a heart attack three weeks ago.         I guess inventorying your collection for the auction was just too much of a strain for him to handle all by himself.    (Looks him in the eye)    But after tonight, I can see why he was determined to do it himself and freeze me out of the process.      You and he really had it all figured out good, didn’t you?

 

WOLFSON: Figured what out?

 

ALLENBY: Let’s drop the bullshit, Pete.    You and Ted worked out a scheme to stiff all the gullible buyers who’ll be bidding on your collection on Monday.    All to help you accelerate your debt payments and leave a nice sum left over to not only put you in the black again, but give Ted a pretty good commission if he’d lived to see it.

 

WOLFSON: You’ve lost me, Cliff.    Are you sure you haven’t been overworking?

 

ALLENBY: All right, since you insist on playing dumb, you might as well let me trap you into your corner.   (Points to the desk).     You recognize that little item on the left side of the tray.

 

WOLFSON: Of course.   1907 St. Gaudens twenty-dollar gold piece.    The original high relief issue with the wire edge.     That’s the signature item of the whole collection.

 

ALLENBY: Lot number 32 in the auction catalog.    (He opens the auction catalog).    Just as you described it.    1907 St. Gaudens twenty-dollar gold piece.    High relief with wire edge.     But what I find funny is why its condition is listed as uncirculated MS67.    (Pauses).    I’ve looked at that coin for more than an hour, and there’s no way its condition could rate higher than 64 on the scale.

 

WOLFSON: (keeps his expression nonchalant and shrugs).     What’s two or three points on a scale designed by a handful of coin dealers at the American Numismatic Association?

 

ALLENBY: (Angrily) You know damn well what the difference is!    (Waves the Red Book “A Guidebook to United States Coins)     A difference of just one point on the MS scale means a hell of a lot when it comes to the value of a coin, especially one like this!      MS64, the true condition of this coin makes it worth about $30,000.    But if people think it’s MS67, then that means at bare minimum it should go for $125,000.     (Wolfson says nothing).    Just like that, with one coin alone you net an extra hundred g’s to not only lower your debt to Uncle Sam, but my dear partner who rated it MS67 gets an extra ten grand on the commission.       Nice arrangment the two of you worked out.     With all the coins in this collection, you multiply the extra profits from spiked MS ratings, and your problems are finally solved in one fell swoop, right?

 

WOLFSON: Look, I’m not the expert who knows how to assign MS ratings.    All I did was collect them.    If Ted Mishler was spiking the ratings to boost his commission for the gallery then that can’t be my concern.     Especially now that he’s dead.

 

ALLENBY: If you think you can make me believe you had nothing to do with this because of your own troubles, you might as well sell me a deed to the Brooklyn Bridge.

 

WOLFSON: What difference does it make anyway, Cliff?    All of these coins have formal certification from Mishler and Allenby, and anyone who buys them isn’t going to run to the ANA or any other dealer for a second opinion.    They’ll just be too overwhelmed by the coin itself, and none of them could tell the difference between an MS64 or an MS67 anyway.

 

ALLENBY: (shakes his head).   And don’t try to buy me off, either.    That crap might have worked with an amoral leech like Ted, but it isn’t going to work with me.    I pride myself on running an honest business, which no doubt is why you approached him and he made sure I never got anywhere near the inventory of your collection.

 

WOLFSON: Realistically, what can you do?    The auction’s only four days away.

 

ALLENBY: The easiest thing for me to do is to hold a press conference and expose both you and Ted for what you did.    But I’m going to give you one easy way out, Pete.    The auction will be postponed four weeks so I can do an honest inventory of the collection, and if anyone asks about why some of the coins got downgraded from the earlier catalog, I’ll just say that Ted was under too much strain from the heart ailment that killed him when he made those earlier ratings.

 

WOLFSON: (his expression darkens)    You can’t postpone the auction.    The government’s ready to kick me out of the house if they don’t get some payments on my debt in the next two weeks.    I need those proceeds now!

 

ALLENBY: You should have thought of that before you got greedy and thought you could make some ill-gotten profit.      (Smiles contemptuously)   With this approach to business, I think I’m beginning to realize how you came to lose everything.      At any rate, your timetable with the IRS doesn’t matter to me.    I’m only concerned with preserving the integrity of Mishler and Allenby Galleries, and that means the auction will be postponed.

 

WOLFSON: And nothing I say can make you change your mind about that?

 

ALLENBY: Not a thing.

 

WOLFSON: Then in that case Cliff, you just made this necessary.

 

[He pulls out his gun from his trenchcoat pocket and before Allenby has any time to react, he shoots him in the chest.     Allenby slumps back in his chair, dead.      Wolfson hurries over and pries him out of his chair and makes sure that the bullet did not exit and that there is no blood on the back of the chair, which is exactly why he used a .22 pistol.      He takes off his trenchcoat and sets it on the floor and rests the body on it to prevent blood from seeping onto the floor.    A montage of scenes showing Wolfson cleaning up the office then follows.      We see him putting coins back in their holders and returning them to an open office safe which he then closes.      The only coin he does not put back is the twenty dollar gold piece they’ve been discussing.    Instead, he places it in a mylar pocket folder.    He sticks the coin in his pocket and then lifts Allenby’s dead body back into a sitting position, taking time to put his suit jacket and overcoat on, and to also remove Allenby’s wallet.      As he finishes, he freezes when he hears the office phone ring.      He listens and hears three rings before the answering machine kicks in.]

 

ALLENBY’S VOICE: Hi, you have reached the office of Cliff Allenby at Mishler and Allenby Galleries.    I’m not able to take your call now, so please leave a message at the sound of the beep.   (Beeping sound.    Wolfson then hears a voice he recognizes as that of noted rare coin dealer, CHET KRAUSE).

 

KRAUSE (Voice): Hi Cliff.    Guess you’re not burning the midnight oil after all like Joan said you’d be doing.    I’ll give you a ring tomorrow.

 

[Wolfson feels the tension return as he realizes that he has less time than he counted on.    He lifts the corpse to its feet and slowly drags it out of the office.    He takes the time to turn out the lights and then uses Allenby’s key to lock the door (wiping it the instant he is done).       He drags him down the stairs to the main entrance of the gallery and tenses himself as he looks outside at the street scene.     A few lamps illuminate the scene but so far there is no sign of any pedestrians or vehicular traffic.      Finally, after waiting nervously for three minutes he opens the door and keeps holding up Allenby’s body under one arm.     He walks fifteen feet and then decides now is the time to drop the body on the sidewalk and hope it will look like a mugging.     As soon as the body falls, he sprints toward an alleyway and ducks into it, running as fast as he can go.     He sees several garbage cans and crates blocking his path and he has to shove them out of the way. They crash to the ground and the camera then  focuses on the prone form of a seedy derelict, who hearing the noise dimly rises.

 

DERELICT: Heh, what?

 

[Hiccups from the effects of a bottle of wine he’d earlier fished out of the trash.    He looks down and can barely make out a figure disappearing at the other end of the alleyway and out onto the street at the far end.     The Derelict then shrugs his shoulders and plops back to sleep.]

 

Scene 4

 

[Wolfson walks five blocks, determined to put as much distance between himself and the Galleries before hailing a cab.        He can see a few pedestrians on the opposite side of the street staggering out of a local bar.      He keeps his trenchcoat hiked up and his head down, his eyes darting occasionally to see if there’s a cab.     Finally, he spots one and extends his arm.    It slows to a stop and he gets in.     The cab driver, an unshaven man wearing a Dodger cap turns around.]

 

CAB DRIVER: Where to?

 

WOLFSON: Bel Air.

 

CAB DRIVER: Where in Bel Air?

 

WOLFSON: I’ll tell you where when you get there.   Just drive for now.

 

[The cab drives on, and finally when Wolfson sees a closed gas station one mile from his house he signals it to stop.    This is where he’d called for a cab earlier in the evening to get downtown from a different company.    The location was chosen because it was out of the way from his own house and he doesn’t want any cab company records to show a pick-up or drop-off near his house.      He keeps his trenchcoat hunched up, his head down until he finally staggers back to the porch of his mansion and stumbles in, collapsing onto the couch which is one of the few pieces of living room furniture he has left.     He chuckles and sighs with relief before finally dropping off to sleep.]

 

 

Scene 5

 

[Morning, outside the entrance to Mishler and Allenby Galleries.     A police cordon has been set up along the entire length of a sidewalk while uniformed officers motion spectators to stay back.  A squad car slowly pulls up and COLUMBO steps out of the back, a cigar stub in his mouth.      He is uncharacteristically less slovenly than usual.     His thick hair looks brushed and his old tan suit looks as if it had been recently pressed.    His eyes focus in on the throng, as he tries to spot his assistant Sergeant Clay.]

 

CLAY: Over here, Lieutenant!

 

COLUMBO: (walks up to him.   There seems to be a new spring in his step).     They told me you were already down here.

 

CLAY: (noting his appearance)  You look more refreshed than usual.

 

COLUMBO: Oh yeah, I gotta tell ya, I *really* feel like a new man the last couple weeks.    Mrs. Columbo, she really had the right idea telling me I should see a doctor and ask if those pills were right for me.

 

CLAY: Pills, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: Yeah, you know the ones they talk about on TV.   Vi– (stops as he realizes he shouldn’t be talking about something like that.    He blushes in embarrassment).   Uh, you know.

 

CLAY: (Nods and is summoning all his inner strength to not laugh)   Yes, Lieutenant, I *know* just what you mean.

 

COLUMBO: (claps his hands together as if he’s anxious to get to work)    Okay, what have we got?

 

CLAY: Looks to be a mugging that turned into murder.     Victim is Clifford Allenby, co-owner of a rare coin gallery just down the street.     His wife said he was working late last night alone at the office.   When he came out of the building, someone must have jumped him, and then shot him.

 

COLUMBO: (reaches the body, lying face-up in the street, where coroner’s photographers are taking pictures).    Wallet missing?

 

CLAY: Yep.    We already got an ID from one of the gallery’s staff members earlier this morning.     It’s Mr. Allenby.

 

COLUMBO: (Looks down and frowns.   He bends down slightly, tapping his cigar)

 

PHOTOGRAPHER: (Angrily) Lieutenant, watch that cigar!

 

COLUMBO: Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I get any ash on you?   Let me brush that out.

 

PHOTOGRAPHER: (Getting to feet and backing away).   No, no don’t bother.    I’m through here anyway.    (Walks off, glad to be as far away from Columbo as he can be).

 

COLUMBO: (resumes his concentration on the body).     Where was he shot?

 

CLAY: One shot through the chest.

 

COLUMBO: I don’t see it.

 

CLAY: We had to lift the coat back to see the wound in his chest.   It’s there.

 

COLUMBO: (Looks up at Clay)   The coat had to be opened before you could tell where he’d been shot?

 

CLAY: (Nods) Yes.

 

COLUMBO: That’s very interesting.     About when was he shot?

 

CLAY: Coroner estimates, sometime between 11 and 1 AM.   

 

COLUMBO: Then how come we weren’t all out here much earlier?

 

CLAY: Body wasn’t discovered until 5 AM.     This street really gets empty after normal business hours for most people.     There aren’t any bars or restaurants on the block to attract any late night crowds.     This is purely a business district.

 

COLUMBO: I see.  (Takes another puff on his cigar and nonchalantly tosses it aside.   A patrolman manning the cordon indignantly reacts).

 

PATROLMAN: Lieutenant, you know there’s an ordnance against littering!

 

COLUMBO: (Startled) Oh, right.   Right, sorry about that, I’ll pick that up.   (Bends down and retrieves the stub and tosses it in a nearby garbage basket).

 

CLAY:We might as well go inside and talk to Mr. Brenner of the gallery.   He identified the body for us.

 

COLUMBO: Yeah, let’s.   (They start walking down the street toward the gallery entrance).    So no one reported hearing a shot last night?

 

CLAY: (Shakes head)   No one.

 

COLUMBO: That’s strange.     Even if this area’s empty at night, you’d think someone would have heard the shot and called the police not long after it happened.

 

CLAY: Unless we’ve got a mugger who likes to use a silencer.

 

COLUMBO: (Stops and smiles with typical leprechaun impishness)   Now Clay, when was the last time you ever heard of a run-of-the-mill street mugger using a gun with a silencer?

 

[Clay returns the smile and nods.    Already he knows that the lieutenant’s mind is cataloging the loose ends, waiting to see if they will become more significant.    They enter the front door and go up the steps that lead to Allenby’s office.     The door is open.    Two men are looking intently at velvet-lined trays spread out on Allenby’s desk.]

 

CLAY: Lieutenant, this is Mr. Brenner, administrative assistant for Mr. Allenby.      Mr. Brenner, Lieutenant Columbo is in charge of the investigation.

 

BRENNER: (rising.   He is clearly agitated).    Oh, Lieutenant, this is just shocking!    To see both of the partners die in only a few weeks!

 

COLUMBO: Both of the partners?

 

BRENNER: Yes.   Mr. Mishler died of a heart attack three weeks ago.    Mr. Allenby was the surviving partner.

 

COLUMBO: (making a note) I see.   Now that’s quite a coincidence.     But.....it probably is just that.     Now, do you know how late Mr. Allenby was working here last night?

 

BRENNER: Oh, I couldn’t say.   Mr. Bowers and I, we left the gallery at regular closing time at six, but Mr. Allenby said he was going to stay a while longer to do a new inventory of the Wolfson Collection.

 

[The other man, Bowers, looks up with concern from the tray he’s just been inspecting.]

 

BOWERS: Mr. Brenner, there’s no question one item is missing!

 

COLUMBO: (holds up hands)   Wait a sec, fellas, you’re both going too fast for me.    Now, Mr.ahhhh (points at Brenner).

 

BRENNER: Brenner.

 

COLUMBO: Brenner.   Why don’t you just do all the talking for now, and Mr. ahhhh......

 

BOWERS: Bowers.

 

COLUMBO: Bowers.   You just wait and I’ll get to you in a few minutes.      A lot easier for me to handle these things one person at a time.    Now, Mr. Brenner you were saying that Mr. Allenby was inventorying a collection.

 

BRENNER: Yes.   The Wolfson Collection.    We’re handling the auction of it in four days.    It’s probably the largest private coin collection that’s ever gone on the market.

 

COLUMBO: I see (makes note).   He was doing that all by himself?

 

BRENNER: Well not every item that’s going up for sale, just some of the more important ones.  (Glances sadly at the tray).     And as you heard Mr. Bowers say just now, there seems to be one item from the collection missing.

 

COLUMBO: One item missing.    Can you tell which item in particular?

 

BRENNER: Why yes.   A 1907 twenty dollar gold coin.     Very rare, and worth at least more than a hundred thousand dollars.

 

COLUMBO (lets out an impressed whistle): Wow, that much money for just one coin?    Y’know I can remember seeing those twenty dollar gold coins when I was a young kid.    Never knew they could get that valuable.

 

BRENNER: This is a special kind of gold coin, Lieutenant.     It was made a special way that rendered the design a true work of art, but it was withdrawn after only a few thousand were made.      To have one is rare enough, but one in such exceptional quality.....(shakes head sadly).    That was probably the best item in the entire collection.

COLUMBO (makes note): You gotta picture of it?    Something we can use to circulate in the pawn shops or----

 

BOWERS (indignantly): Lieutenant, such a rare coin would hardly be disposed of at a....common place like a corner pawn shop!

 

COLUMBO: Oh, well.....yeah, but if it looks like this were an ordinary mugging, then it wouldn’t stand to figure that the thief would realize how valuable it is.       You understand our thinking there, don’t you, sir?

 

BOWERS: Oh....well, I suppose so.     We can have a picture furnished.

 

BRENNER: Here, Lieutenant.    This is the auction catalog.    Page 14.

 

[Columbo  shoves his notebook back in his coat pocket and takes the book, studying the image carefully.   We intercut with an image of the gold coin]

 

COLUMBO (reading aloud slowly): 1907 St. Gaudens......oh I heard of him, wasn’t he a famous sculptor?

 

BRENNER: Yes, Lieutenant, he was.

 

COLUMBO (smiles and taps his forehead): I thought so!     That’s the guy who designed Diana.

 

BOWERS (frowns): Diana?

 

COLUMBO:  The statue that used to be on top of the old Madison Square Garden.     My father used to gush about that old thing for years when I was growing up and why he liked the old Garden better than the new one.     Course the new one is the one they call the old Garden today, ever since they tore that one down in 68.....

 

BRENNER (annoyed): Yes, yes, Lieutenant, he was a versatile artist.     But at any rate, this one coin is probably the centerpiece of the whole collection, and this is going to be terrible to explain to Mr. Wolfson.

 

COLUMBO: Well, wouldn’t this coin be insured, even if it was up for sale?

 

BRENNER: Yes, Lieutenant, but the insurance wouldn’t fully cover what the coin was liable to fetch in open auction.    Collectors know how rare it is when something in as good a condition as this one was comes up.

 

COLUMBO: Yeah, guess so.     Now, ah....where was I?     Oh....(pulls notebook out and glances at it.    Nods and puts it back).      Ah.....any indication as to how late Mr. Allenby was working last night, and what time he might have left?

 

BOWERS: All we know is that he’d left the building before 11:15.

 

COLUMBO: How do you know that?

 

BOWERS: The answering machine.   (He flicks on the switch and we hear the message that Chet Krause had left the previous night).     Time on that message is 11:15 and Cliff didn’t answer the phone.    So he had to have left the office before then.

 

COLUMBO: Yeah.....that would fit the time of death.      Real close to it.     (Glances back downstairs)    Mr. Allenby would have had to have just left the building before that call came in.   (Looks back at Bowers).     Did he have his own car?

 

BOWERS: Yes, a blue Lincoln.

 

COLUMBO: Where did he keep that parked?

 

BOWERS: The parking complex around the corner on Hill.

 

COLUMBO: (looks up with slight surprise)   You’re sure of that?

 

BOWERS: Yes sir, I use the same lot myself.    It’s the closest one to the building.

 

COLUMBO: (turns to Clay).   Clay, get the unis over to check that out.

 

CLAY: (nods) Yes, Lieutenant.   (Moves out)

 

(Columbo makes a note with interest)

 

Scene Six

 

(Wolfson’s home.     He is idly looking at the $20 gold coin he took last night and sighs with regret)

 

WOLFSON: Insurance won’t cover it as much as the auction would have, but at least it’ll do.

 

(His doorbell rings.    He quickly places the mylar folder inside a desk drawer and goes over to answer.    His eyes widen with surprise when he sees Columbo)

 

WOLFSON: May I help you?

 

COLUMBO: Ah, Mr. Wolfson?

 

WOLFSON: Yes?

 

COLUMBO: I’m really sorry to bother you, but there’s something important that’s come up that I got to ask you a few questions about.    Do you mind if I come in?

 

WOLFSON: (Dubiously as he eyes Columbo’s rumpled appearance)   Look, I’m afraid I have no idea what it is you want-----

 

COLUMBO: Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot to tell you who I am, didn’t I?      Yeah, that would make quite a difference, given that people don’t automatically seem to realize what it is I do for a living.  (Pulls out badge).    Lieutenant Columbo, LAPD.

 

WOLFSON: Oh, well yes, that makes a difference.    Come on in Lieutenant.

 

COLUMBO: Thank you, sir.

 

(Columbo enters and takes note of how the house is mostly devoid of furniture.    Just a couch and mostly empty shelves)

 

COLUMBO: Sorry to ask, sir, but are you moving?

 

WOLFSON: No, Lieutenant, I’m actually right now hoping that I don’t *have* to move anytime soon.    It’s just that circumstances have forced me to dispose of much of my furniture for now.

 

COLUMBO: Oh, I see.   Well in that case, if you ever want to get a good lead on some new furniture, I got a cousin down in the valley who makes really good-----

 

WOLFSON: (Interrupting, with an edge of irritation)   Lieutenant, I’m sure you had another reason for coming here?

 

COLUMBO: Right, right.    I’m sorry, sir, I often make a pest of myself and don’t get to the point quick enough.    I guess it’s because I never like to have to bring bad news to someone.   You ah, know Mr. Allenby, the coin dealer?

 

WOLFSON: I certainly do, Lieutenant, his firm is handling the sale of my collection.

 

COLUMBO: Well you see, he was murdered last night.

 

WOLFSON: (allows himself to look dubious at first, and then lets it give way to stunned amazement)    You’re......not joking are you?

 

COLUMBO: No sir, I’m afraid not.    It happened about 11 to 11:15 or so last night.    He was stabbed to death outside his building.

 

WOLFSON: My God.   (He sits down on the couch).      First poor Ted, and now Cliff.     I’ve known them for so many years, and to see them both dead just a few weeks apart!

 

 

COLUMBO: Yeah, it is tragic, though ah, Mr. Mishler, he only died of a heart attack, right?    I mean, nothing at all like Mr. Allenby.    Course, I suppose as a matter of formality, we will have to take another look at Mr. Mishler’s death just to make sure it really was a heart attack, but from what the coroner’s boys tell me, it’s not likely it was foul play.    Probably just a real freaky coincidence that both partners would die so close together.

 

WOLFSON: Yeah.    Yeah, I guess so.     I’m.....sorry, Lieutenant, I’m just in such a daze right now from all this.   (Looks at him).    But I’m not sure there’s anything else I can help you with.   I mean.....you said this happened at when, last night?

 

COLUMBO: Ah, sometime between 11 and  11:15.    He missed a call from another dealer that came in after he left the building.     Time of death is placed between 11 and 1, but since he would have had to have been out of his office when the call came in, that moves the timetable back to 11:15.    The body was only a little ways down the street from the building entrance.

 

WOLFSON: I see.   So....he was probably mugged?

 

COLUMBO: Well his wallet’s gone.    And.....there’s something else missing that he may have been carrying too.

 

WOLFSON: What?

 

COLUMBO: (puts a hand on the back of his head)   Ah, Mr. Wolfson is there a coin in your collection that’s a pretty rare twenty dollar gold piece?    From ah......(stops and pulls out his notebook, flips it open and squints) Ah.....1907?

 

WOFLSON: Well, yes, it’s the St. Gaudens high relief one, but.....(His eyes narrow in horror).    Good God, *that’s* missing?

 

COLUMBO: Well, I’m afraid it is missing from the inventory of your collection at the gallery.    But don’t worry, that’s the only item that’s missing according to Mr. Bowers, the deputy director.

 

WOLFSON: Lieutenant, that’s hardly much consolation, that coin was the prize item of my collection!

 

COLUMBO: Oh, well I’m sorry to hear that.    It is a beautiful coin and I know that sculptor who designed it was a real genius.    You know he did a statue that used to be on top of Madison Square Garden?

 

WOLFSON: (growing increasingly irritated externally, but inside he’s finding Columbo fascinating)    Yes, Lieutenant, as a matter of fact I *did* know that.    That’s one reason why I prize that coin so highly.

 

COLUMBO: And that really shows you’ve got great taste, sir.    I knew that the minute I saw this nice house you live in and before I came in, that only a guy of great taste could have a collection like that, and live in a nice house like this.     (Looks around).    But ah.....you said you had to get rid of all your furniture.

 

WOLFSON: All my furniture, *and* my coin collection, Lieutenant.    (Gets up and sighs).    I ah....haven’t been too well off these last few years.     Bad stock and real estate investments.   Two ex-wives with five figure monthly alimony payments.    I’ve.....had to unload quite a bit.    Selling my collection is the only way I can pay off the mortgage on this house before they foreclose and evict me.    I figured if I can get the mortgage paid off, then I can sell the house for full market value and solve.....some of my other problems.

 

COLUMBO: Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that.    I know that’s got to break your heart to have to give up something that means so much to you.    

 

WOLFSON: Yes, it does.  (Pours himself a drink).   I can still remember when I started to collect coins.     I was ten years old and I wanted to find all the old Buffalo nickels and Indian head pennies that were still in circulation.   (Shakes his head as he wistfully recalls the memory).   And then as I started to become more succesfull I was able to graduate to silver dollars.    Then.....when I was twenty-one, I got my first gold coin.     It wasn’t a rare one, it was jut a common ten dollar gold coin from 1915.    But it was so special and a first for me.      It was a.....symbol of how far I’d come since I’d started with the Indian pennies and the Buffalo nickels.

(Smiles)   And that 1907 double eagle.    That was the crowning achievement.     I was on top of the world in every part of my life when I got that coin.    Things were never better before or since.  (Shakes his head sadly and looks back at Columbo).     I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I’m kind of rambling out loud I guess.    Obviously, my collection isn’t as important as what happened to Cliff.

 

COLUMBO: No, that’s quite all right, sir.    I understand this is a shock.   People react differently, they sometimes just go on a bit.    I see it happen all the time.    But ah, your collection is important to the investigation, sir, because.....we dohave to consider the possiblity that this may have been a professional mugging aimed at getting that one coin.

 

WOLFSON (blinks slightly): I beg your pardon?    You mean, it’s not just an ordinary mugging?

 

COLUMBO: Well sir, it seems like that’s the logical answer, and yet.....there are some things about the murder scene that bother me.

 

WOLFSON: (downs his drink and sits down on the couch)   How so?

 

COLUMBO: Well, first, there’s the fact that no one heard the shot last night.     Now even though that part of town is pretty empty after 11 beacuse it’s a business district and there aren’t any bars or fast food joints, you usually find a couple of derelicts in the alleys going through the dumpsters from all the businesses located there.    And usually, when a derelict hears a shooting, the first thing they do is run and find the nearest cop available because they’re scared for their lives.    They don’t want to put themselves at risk

WOLFSON: So you’ve.....actually talked to all the....derelicts in the district?

 

COLUMBO: Well, we are trying to round them up if we can find them.     Maybe we’ll find out one of them did hear the shots last night and wasn’t in any position to call the cops.     But for now, it is a little strange that none of them reported hearing anything or have volunteered that now.

 

WOLFSON: And if....no one heard a shot, then what would that mean, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: Well, it would then mean that the killer probably used a silencer.    And like I was telling my assistant Sergeant Clay......now he’s a real sharp kid, Sergeant Clay.    I’ve been sort of teaching him the ropes.    Anyway, ah......(puts a hand to his head).   Geez, where was I?

 

WOLFSON (wondering how much of this is a put-on): You were saying he could have used a silencer.

 

COLUMBO: Oh, right.    Well anyway, if he used a silencer, then it’s not likely that would make him a routine mugger.     I mean, street muggers aren’t the types who’d carry that kind of gun with them.

 

WOLFSON (nods): That’s true.

 

COLUMBO: And there’s one other thing that’s bothering me.     Mr. Allenby, he wasn’t going in the right direction.

 

WOLFSON (frowns): The right direction?

 

COLUMBO: To his car.    You see, he always parked his car in a garage on Hill Street, just around the corner from the gallery.     And his body was found down the street toward Polk, in the opposite direction.   

 

WOLFSON: I....don’t think I follow.

 

COLUMBO: It’s like this, sir.    He leaves the building late at night, an empty part of town.     He’s got a rare coin on his person worth a lot of money.....and he walks in the opposite direction from his car where he then gets mugged and shot.    Now why would he have gone in that direction, instead of toward his car?

 

WOLFSON (shrugs): Well I’m no detective, Lieutenant, that should be your job to figure out.   I guess....(eyes narrow).    Well if the mugger was out there waiting for him, maybe he forced him down the street in the wrong direction, or maybe he threatened Cliff and he just started to run in a panic if the man was in the direction of his car.

 

COLUMBO (nods): You know, those are both good ideas, sir.       Either one of them *could* explain it.     But.....it isn’t likely.

WOLFSON: Why not?

 

COLUMBO: Well street muggers, late at night, they usually like to hide in alleys and corner their victims that way, especially if they think they might have to shoot them.      If the mugger forced Mr. Allenby in that direction away from the parking garage, then that would mean he would have been standing out in the open on the street, where he could have more easily been seen by other people.      The usual MO for street muggers is they don’t try to take risks like that.

 

WOLFSON: You’re talking about the *usual* MO, Lieutenant.    It couldn’t possibly be an exact science for all of them.

 

COLUMBO (nods as he sticks a cigar in his mouth): That’s true, sir, that’s true.    Things don’t always happen according to a predictable formula.     It’s just that.....I have a habit of being.....intrigued when things don’t go the way you expect them to go.     I always like to see if the loose ends are tied up that make me realize *why* the unpredictable happens.      Then that way, I get a nice file to build up and I learn more what to expect in the future.

 

WOLFSON: Well, you’re certainly very thorough, Lieutenant.  (Downs another drink).    I.....really don’t have anything else I can tell you, unless you have more questions.

 

COLUMBO (rises): Oh, I’m really sorry, sir.    I should have mentioned that I do need to learn more about your insurance policy on the missing coin.     How much would you be entitled to receive in case it isn’t found?

 

WOLFSON: The insurance value is $85,000 based on how much one of these coins in similar condition went for the last time one came up for auction.    That is however much less than I had hoped to receive in the auction this week.

 

COLUMBO: $85,000.  (Makes note).    The auction’s still going to go on this week, even with Mr. Allenby’s death?

 

WOLFSON: It has to, Lieutenant.    I need the proceeds from the sale as quickly as possible to keep the IRS from foreclosing.     Any delay would be unacceptable.

 

COLUMBO: I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Wolfson.    Hope you’re able to get a lot off it.     I’ll just let myself out and leave you be, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than talk to me.

 

WOLFSON: I’m available any time you have more questions, Lieutenant.

 

COLUMBO: Of course, sir.  

 

(As he lets himself out, close-up of Wolfson, an expression of steeliness, but also suggesting some concern underneath that this detective may present some problems for him)

(Commercial)

Scene Seven

 

(Establishing daytime shot of a downtown building.     Cut to close-up of sign on front door, KRAUSE UNLIMITED COIN DEALERS)

 

(Cut to office interior.   Columbo, cigar in mouth, making notes is seated across from Chet Krause)

 

COLUMBO: Mr. Krause, I know you’re a busy man and all that, so I hope you know why there are some questions we need to ask.

 

KRAUSE: Oh, I understand completely, Lieutenant.     I called Cliff last night at 11:15, and you want to know what that was about.

 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, we heard your message on his phone machine and we know that had to be real close to when he had just left the building and then got killed since the time of death can’t be earlier than 11.

 

KRAUSE: If only I’d called a few minutes sooner!    I might have gotten him while he was still in the office, and he might still be alive.     Even though we’ve been rivals in the business for twenty years, I liked him a lot.     A lot more than I liked his late partner, I’ll admit.

 

COLUMBO: Mr. Mishler?

 

KRAUSE: Yeah, Ted Mishler was a bit of a cold fish.    He tended to stay in the background and not go to any of the public functions most coin dealers in the business go to.    But he had a knack for striking up good behind the scenes relationships with some of the major collectors out there and that helped his business tremendously.

 

COLUMBO: Like Mr. Wolfson, for instance.  

 

KRAUSE: Yes, he and Pete went back many years, and whenever Pete wanted something for his collection, Ted was usually able to get it, and if Pete wanted to sell something for a profit or arrange some kind of trade, Ted generally handled all of that too.

 

COLUMBO: And Mr. Mishler was starting to handle the sale of Mr. Wolfson’s collection before his death last month?

 

KRAUSE: Yeah, the whole thing.    Because Ted was in solid with Pete, that meant Cliff was totally out of the picture as far as evaluating the collection and preparing it for auction went.     And Cliff didn’t mind beacuse as an equal partner in the firm that meant he was going to get his cut just as much as Ted.

 

COLUMBO: His cut?

 

KRAUSE: Ten percent of the proceeds from the Wolfson collection’s sale goes to Mishler and Allenby for handling the sale.    It’s a usual part of the business, Lieutenant.

 

COLUMBO: Oh, kind of like an actor giving his agent ten percent, right?

 

KRAUSE (chuckles): I never heard it put that way, but it is the same principle.

 

COLUMBO: Okay.   (Makes another note).   Geez, this is all so fascinating, this whole business.  I’m getting away from what I wanted to ask you about, ah.....(looks back at his notebook, pulls it out to squint and then flips back a page).    Right.     Your phone call to Mr. Allenby.     Now was there any reason why you would have thought he’d be at his office that late at night?

 

KRAUSE: Actually, I called him at his house first, because I expected him to be there.      But his wife told me he was at the office and was planning to “burn the midnight oil” as it were.

 

(Columbo flips back several more pages and then slaps himself on the forehead)

 

COLUMBO: Son-of-a-gun, I *knew* there was someone else I was supposed to see first.    Don’t know how that slipped my mind.

 

KRAUSE: Well for her sake, I’m glad it did, Lieutenant, because I’m sure Joan is real upset at the moment and not in the mood to talk to the police.  

 

COLUMBO: You’re probably right, sir.     That’s always the worst part of the job, talking to the victim’s family, especially when there’s a wife involved.    Course some of the time, you end up finding that the wife did it and then you don’t feel so embarrassed afterwards.   Ah.....(flips forward again).    Okay, she said he was planning to “burn the midnight oil”.     That means she was expecting him to keep working well past 11:15?

 

KRAUSE: Yeah, that’s exactly what she said.     She even said she was planning on going to bed and not wait up for him.

 

COLUMBO: She didn’t know specifically the nature of his work that was making him stay there that late, did she?

 

KRAUSE: No.   Joan really didn’t have much interest in numismatics.   (Eyes Columbo slightly).     You’re not going to ask me what that means?

 

COLUMBO (smiles impishly at him): The science of coin collecting.

 

KRAUSE: My apologies for underestimating you, Lieutenant.

 

COLUMBO (shrugs): Happens a lot.    I’m used to it.  (Closes notebook).   That’s about it then.  (Rises and pulls something out of his pants pocket).    Oh, one more thing, sir.    Since you are a professional in the business, I was wondering if you could tell me if this old coin I carry in my pocket is worth anything?

 

KRAUSE: A good luck charm of yours, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: Kinda.   See, I got it back in change years ago in New York when I was dating the future Mrs. Columbo, and it was such a strange-looking thing, that I decided to keep it with me for luck.     And a week later, I had proposed and she’d accepted.

 

KRAUSE: Touching story, Lieutenant.    Other people use rabbit’s feet!    (Takes the coin from Columbo and his eyes widen).     My goodness, Lieutenant, have you had this all these years?

 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, every day for luck.     I keep it in the side pocket which I never use for the spare change I need.

 

KRAUSE: (Sighs).    It must have been all bright and shiny when you first got it.    

 

COLUMBO: Well yeah, pennies I know fade over time, but the bottom line is, I’ve never lost it!

 

KRAUSE: Lieutenant, this is a 1955 double-strike Lincoln penny.      The result of an error at the mint which caused the date, the words “Liberty” and “In God We Trust” to be double-struck.

 

COLUMBO: Sure.   I guess there can’t be many like it.

 

KRAUSE: Only about 20,000 were made before the error was discovered.    Keep in mind that hundreds of millions of pennies are ordinarily made in a given year and you realize how rare that has to make it.

 

COLUMBO: So about how much is that worth?

 

KRAUSE (ruefully as he hands it back to Columbo): What you have right now Lieutenant is worth at least $500, perhaps as high as $700 or $800 if you find a small-time collector who really wants it to complete their set.

 

COLUMBO (whistles): Boy that sounds pretty good! 

 

KRAUSE: Lieutenant, I don’t know if I should tell you this, but......if you’d just thought of putting that coin away in a sealed envelope or an album instead of carrying it around all these years.....it’d be worth a lot more.

 

COLUMBO: Oh?

 

KRAUSE: Yes, you see in the numismatic world, value is also predicated by the condition of the coin.    The more uncirculated the quality, the more detail remains, and the more prized it becomes. 

 

COLUMBO (eyes narrow): Oh.   (Hesitates).    How much are we talking about, Mr. Krause?

 

(Krause lets out a sigh and hands Columbo a copy of the “Red Book”)

 

KRAUSE: Read this, Lieutenant.   In fact you can keep it.    This should explain everything.

 

COLUMBO (takes the book): Ah......did I by any chance blow my opportunity to pay for my kid’s tuition?

 

KRAUSE: That might depend on which college he went to.

 

(Columbo winces as he leaves the office)

 

Scene Eight

(The alleyway down the street from where the body was found.   Sergeant Clay is there while the forensic team inspects the ground.)

 

(On the sidestreet, Columbo’s Peugot pulls up and lets out a loud bang from the exhaust pipe as it comes to a stop.    All of the officers nearby look over and know right away who has arrived.   Sergeant Clay smiles thinly as he sees Columbo get out and come over to him)

 

COLUMBO: Anything new?

 

CLAY: Well, we’ve got an indication the killer came down this way last night, sir!

 

COLUMBO:   Yeah?    He drop something?

 

CLAY: Not that we can tell, but we’ve got a witness......of sorts.

 

COLUMBO: Of sorts?

 

CLAY: A derelict who was sleeping it off last night.    He heard a lot of noise and saw a guy running down the alley at 11:30 last night.

 

COLUMBO: 11:30?    He’s sure of the time?

 

CLAY: He was insistent that his watch, the last possession of his that he still takes great pride in, revealed the time quite clearly to him.     

 

COLUMBO: Where is he?

 

CLAY: We got him downtown so we can get his statement.      I told them to wait until you were back there and could get a chance to talk to him.

 

COLUMBO (smiles): You figured I might be more apt to get something out of him than someone in the department with a little more....polish?

 

CLAY (tries not to smile back): No sir!

 

(Columbo raises a knowing finger and heads back to his car)

 

Scene Nine

 

(Parker Center Interrogation room.   We see the seedy looking Derelict from the night of the murder sitting blankly in front of the table with one uniformed guard by the door.     It opens and Columbo enters, this time holding his raincoat over his arm)

 

COLUMBO: I’ll take over, Officer.   (The officer nods and departs.    Columbo sets his raincoat down on the table and sits across from him).    Okay sir, I hope you don’t mind, there’s just a few questions I’d like to ask you about last night.     It won’t take too long.

 

(The Derelict looks blankly at Columbo, and then down at his coat lying across the table.    He idly touches the sleeve).

 

COLUMBO: You got a name, sir?

 

DERELICT (not looking at Columbo): Horatio Bixbee.    (Looks at Columbo).    You mind if I ask you a question first?

 

COLUMBO: Sure, Mr. Bixbee.

 

DERELICT: What did you pay for this coat?   (Columbo blinks slightly).    It’s *exactly* what I’ve always been looking for, to keep comfortable when it gets cold at night.

 

COLUMBO (shrugs absently): Oh....ah, gosh, it’s been so long.     Must have been about ten-ninety-nine when I picked it up.

 

DERELICT: You know where I could get one just like it for a dollar?     I’d be glad to spend that much for a coat of such (he runs his hand over the sleeve again) quality.

 

COLUMBO: Well ah.....that might be a bit of a problem, you see, this coat is kind of like a collectors item among those who *really* value it.    But maybe I can help you find out where you can get a new coat, later.      After you just answer my questions about last night, Mr. Bixbee.

 

DERELICT: Oh yes.   Dreadful racket.     Man can’t get any decent sleep when you have intruders roaming about, knocking things over.      Ruined the best dream I’d had in years, about the time I once saw Lola Lane, the greatest exotic dancer.......

 

COLUMBO (holds up a hand): Just a sec, sir.    Just a sec.    You were awakened by the sound of things being knocked over?      Nothing else.

DERELICT: No sir.

 

COLUMBO: You didn’t hear anything really loud, like maybe a gunshot?

 

DERELICT: No sir, nothing like that!    And I should know because I served my country for two years in Korea, and I know what gunfire  sounds like, and I’ll tell you, I could never get a decent’s night sleep back then because of all the bombardments going on and off.     No sir, if there was gunfire nearby, I would have bolted up and asked my sergeant for instructions!

 

COLUMBO: All right.    Now you told one of the officers earlier that it was 11:30 when all this happened?

 

DERELICT: Absolutely, sir.    No question of it being 11:30.

 

COLUMBO: You couldn’t have been mistaken, sir?    It couldn’t have been 11:15 or closer to then?

 

DERELICT (insistent): No sir.     (Holds up his wrist showing his watch which clashes with his seedy attire and appearance).    My most prized possession.     This luminous dive watch.    The last reminder of.....happier days in my life.

 

COLUMBO (looks at it with fascination): How long you had that?

 

DERELICT (wistfully): Twenty years.    A gift from my dear late wife.     No matter how muchill-fortune has befallen me in the years since, whether it be the loss of a job, the loss of my apartment and all other worldly possessions of mine, this will never leave me.

 

COLUMBO: Well, it looks real nice.   And it’s.....one of those things you can see in the dark too?

 

DERELICT: Of course.    It comes in.....most handy because of my situation.     One likes to know what time it is if one must spend so much time out of doors at night.

 

COLUMBO: But how can you be sure it runs accurately, sir?      Even good watches have to run down at some point.

 

DERELICT (with indignation): I would not keep wearing this were I not able to keep utilizing it for its intended purpose!     Sister Mary Anne at the homeless shelter recently had the kindness to pay for a new watch battery not two months ago.      I wouldn’t take any charity from her when it came to offering me clothes, but when it came to this prized possession of mine, who was I to say no?

 

COLUMBO (impressed): I’ll be.   (Rises).    Mr. Bixbee, you’ve been a big help.    (And then with a momentary flicker of concern, he grabs his coat off the table.)

 

Scene Ten

 

(Wolfson’s mansion.     He is on the phone, anxiously twirling his finger around the cord)

 

WOLFSON: Mr. Bowers, I am well aware of the fact that your organization is in chaos with Cliff dead.     But I will not allow you to use even his death as an excuse for saying the auction has to be postponed so much as one day.     If it gets postponed, a lot of top collectors who are planning on flying in may not be able to come back!   (Pauses as his expression darkens).    Mr. Bowers if you postpone this auction, I will personally sue you for breach of contract and given the personal costs I would incur as a result of your organization’s inefficiency, the additional damages I’d ask for would end up forcing you to give me a new coin collection altogether at no cost to me!  (Smiles with satisfaction).    Now that’ s more like it.    You and Mr. Brenner just burn the midnight oil and get all of the paperwork finalized for this Saturday.

 

(He hangs up and then hears the doorbell ring.    He goes over and his eyes widen as he sees Columbo again).

 

COLUMBO: I’m really sorry to bother you, Mr. Wolfson, but there are a few more things I needed to talk to you about.    I hope it’s not an inconvenience to you.

 

WOLFSON (blinks slightly, knowing he should cooperate, but wondering if he should feel uneasy): Oh well.....no, not at all, come right in.   (Columbo enters and Wolfson closes the door).  I already took care of the only pressing matters I’ve got before me, which was calling the insurance company regarding my one missing coin, and also calling the gallery to make sure the auction is still going to proceed.

 

COLUMBO: Oh, there isn’t going to be a postponement out of respect for Mr. Allenby?

 

WOLFSON: I can’t afford the delay, Lieutenant.    I already told you about my situation.

 

COLUMBO: Yeah, you did sir.    You mentioned how bad your financial problems are, and that’s really sad that it’s come to that, having to get rid of this collection that means so much to you.

 

WOLFSON: Yes, well.....all good things must come to an end, sometime, Lieutenant.

 

COLUMBO (sits down on couch): That’s true, sir.    That’s true.    But.... me, I guess I’m just the kind of guy who values tradition, continuity in life.     I’m the kind of guy who knows what it’s like to be set in a routine that’s comfortable and makes you feel good.     I’ll be honest, if I ever had to give up the things I value, the routine I’m used to.....I’d probably go out of my head.

 

WOLFSON (finding his digression amusing): So I take it that’s why you plan on staying on the job for the rest of your life, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: I think so, sir.    I think so.     Now ah....(pulls out notebook), let’s see now the things I wanted to ask you about......(flips the pages to the back).    Okay.    Got it now.    Ah, the thing I wanted to ask you was about your collection.     Now, you turned it over to Mishler and Allenby eight weeks ago, right?

 

WOLFSON: Yes, they had some men come over here and transport everything downtown to their offices.    The idea was to put it all in their safes for inventory prior to the auction.

 

COLUMBO: And Mr. Mishler was the one who was going to handle the inventory, right?    Mr. Allenby wasn’t going to get involved?

 

WOLFSON: No, I always dealt directly with Ted.    He and I went back a ways.   I didn’t have much of a relationship with Cliff.

 

COLUMBO: Any reason for that?

 

WOLFSON (shrugs):   No.   I had a longer relationship with Ted, and I trusted him completely.  

 

COLUMBO: I understand.    It’s like how us cops sometimes like some partners better than others.    But anyway, when Mr. Mishler died, was everything all set?    The whole collection inventoried and readied for auction?

 

WOLFSON: Yes.    He’d evaluated each coin, and the auction catalog had been printed up and sent out to all interested collectors around the world.     They’ll all be flying in over the next couple days

 

COLUMBO: Oh that reminds me, you wouldn’t happen to have a copy of that auction catalog would you?     I’d really love to see what’s in there.    I mean, I know I could never afford anything that’s up for sale on the salary I make, but it’d still be fun to see what there is.

 

(Wolfson goes over to a nearby table and picks up a thick book, handing it to Columbo)

 

WOLFSON: You can have my copy, Lieutenant.    I know the inventory by heart now.

 

COLUMBO: Thank you, sir.   I appreciate that (thumbs through the book).      Oh boy.      $5000 minimum bid on a 1909 penny?

 

WOLFSON: A special 1909 penny, Lieutenant.     One made at the San Francisco mint and with the designers initials prominent on the front of the coin.    That’s the rare version.    The regular version made at Philadelphia would only bring about oh......a hundred, two hundred dollars even in top condition.

 

COLUMBO: Top condition.    Boy, that really seems to be the name of the game, doesn’t it?     You keep a coin and let it get all faded and scratched, and no one wants it as much no matter how rare it is.

 

WOLFSON: It’s that way in every hobby, Lieutenant.    Would an art collector pay as much for a Picasso if it had a giant tear across the front of the canvass?

 

COLUMBO: That’s true sir, that’s true.   (Looks some more at the catalog)    You think you can explain this, sir?     (Wolfson comes over to him and looks down).     In these listings, I keep seeing all these symbols.   “MS” this.   “MS” that.   Sometimes its 50, sometimes 60 or 62.    What does that all mean?

 

WOLFSON (mildly chuckles): That’s the quality rating scale, Lieutenant.   

 

COLUMBO: The rating scale?    You mean, they come up with a formula with numbers and all that to tell you how good it is?

 

WOLFSON: Yes, it’s a system designed by the American Numismatic Association to help collectors and investors measure the value of a coin based on quality.     A low number means fair quality, a higher number means better to outstanding quality.

 

COLUMBO: Boy, this coin collecting is more complicated than I ever thought it could be!

 

WOLFSON: It certainly is.   (Pauses as Columbo keeps reading).    Lieutenant, I think there’s a question you never got around to asking me?

 

COLUMBO (slams the auction book shut): Oh yes, that’s right, sir.    I’m sorry about that.   (Picks up his notebooks again).    Now where.....yeah, that’s it.     I had to get back to the matter of the inventory of the collection.      Mr. Mishler had finished it all before his death three weeks ago?

 

WOLFSON: Yes.

 

COLUMBO: So there really shouldn’t have been any reason for Mr. Allenby to look over your collection prior to the auction if Mr. Mishler had it all taken care of.

 

WOLFSON (awkwardly): Ah....well no, not that I know of any reason.    Of course, it’s certainly possible that Cliff may have just felt that as the sole surviving partner and with a lot of money potentially coming in to his firm on the ten percent sales commissions, he would have wanted to look at some of them to kind of double-check.

 

COLUMBO: And you figure that might explain why he was looking at your collection last night.

 

WOLFSON: Do you even know for a fact that he was doing that, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: Well he had to have been, didn’t he?     I mean, why else would he have taken the 1907 St. Gaudens coin out and had it on his person at the time he was killed.    (Pauses).    Of course that brings up another point.      Why would he have left the building in the first place with the coin on his person?     I mean, he’s obviously not planning on being mugged outside, so what reason would he have had to take it out of the gallery offices and bring it home with him?

 

WOLFSON (shrugs): I coudn’t guess, Lieutenant.    Maybe his wife wanted to see it.    Maybe he wanted to study it more at home.    

 

COLUMBO: Well even if that were so, sir, wouldn’t that bother you?    I mean, the fact that Mr. Allenby would take such a great risk with your own property, the most prized item in your collection?

 

WOLFSON: Well, I.....(puts a hand to his head).    Good Lord, I’ve been thinking only about the fact that he was mugged and killed that I never gave much thought to that.

 

COLUMBO: Well, I’ll admit we weren’t thinking much about that angle either, sir, since it did seem kind of secondary to the murder itself.     But.....now that there’s time to think about that further, you have to wonder if there’s some deeper significance behind it all, which would account for the other strange things.     The reason why he wasn’t going down the street in the right direction.    The reason why he might have been killed by someone sophisticated enough to use a silencer so that way, Mr. Bixbee the derelict in the alley didn’t hear the shot.

 

WOLFSON (eyes narrow): A payoff?     You mean, maybe Cliff knew who his killer was, and was doing some kind of shady deal to sell the coin and make it look like a theft?

 

COLUMBO: Well, that would certainly be one possibility, sir.    I got to admit, I’m not sure I was looking at it quite that way, but it *is* a possibility.    (Puts a hand to his chin).     The other thing that still bothers me is the matter of the time.     The time the derelict woke up.

 

WOLFSON: Yes you mentioned there was a derelict in the alley.     He didn’t hear the shot?

 

COLUMBO: No, he didn’t hear the shot, but he did hear someone running through the alley knocking over a bunch of trash cans and crates.     And he says it was 11:30, according to his watch.

 

WOLFSON (shrugs and chuckles): Hard to believe that a derelict could be wearing a watch that tells the time accurately.

 

COLUMBO: Yeah, that I admit, puzzled me too, but he says that a Sister Mary Anne of the Mercy Homeless Shelter got his watch battery replaced recently.     And before I came over here, I stopped at the Shelter and did some checking.     You wouldn’t believe how surprised I was to see that I already knew Sister Mary Anne from a lot of years ago.     I was trying to find a witness in this murder case where a photographer killed his wife and tried to make it look like someone else did it, and when I came by to the shelter, that Sister Mary Anne actually thought I was one of those guys from off the street.    Can you believe that?

 

WOLFSON (shakes his head):   Oh no, Lieutenant, that’s *very* hard to believe.

(Columbo notes the insincerity in his voice and smiles)

 

COLUMBO: Well anyway, she confirmed Mr. Bixbee’s story about the watch battery.    And I also told her to let him have first pick of a good raincoat that she’d let him spend a buck on as a matter of pride, because he doesn’t want charity when it comes to clothes.    Which is a nice attitude, because even people down on their luck like Mr. Bixbee should be able to keep their dignity about certain things.

 

WOLFSON (chuckles): Oh, I can certainly relate to that, Lieutenant.   Why else do you think I’m determined to not let myself get evicted even at the price of my coin collection?

 

COLUMBO: That’s an excellent point, sir, and that just goes to how human nature is the same all over, no matter what class of society we’re talking about.     But anyway, ah.....geez, I get so off-track, what was I talking about?

 

WOLFSON: His watch and it being 11:30.

 

COLUMBO: Oh yeah, of course.   Well.....that detail bothers me.     I mean.....if it was the killer running down the alley after he’d shot Mr. Allenby and stolen the coin......how could it be 11:30?  There’s a problem there.

 

WOLFSON: Is there?

 

COLUMBO: The message on his answering machine from Mr. Krause.    He missed a call at 11:15.     Now if he just leaves the building it’s not going to take him fifteen minutes to go just a little ways down the block.

 

WOLFSON: Lieutenant, I’m finding all of this fascinating, but are you trying to get me to do your job and come up with the answers for every loose end that bothers you?     Is this something you do with everyone else you talk to during an investigation?

 

COLUMBO: I’m always interested in everyone’s opinion, Mr. Wolfson.    The way I figure it, anyone’s opinion can always be significant.    Even if it’s not correct, it might have a kernel of something that can point you in the direction.

 

WOLFSON (nods):   Oh yes.    It’s like when Sherlock Holmes said to Dr. Watson, “It may be that you are not luminous, but you are often a conductor of light.”

 

COLUMBO:  Gee, and I thought all he ever said to him was, “Elementary my dear Watson.”

 

WOLFSON (laughs heartily):   That’s good, Lieutenant, very good!     Okay, I accept your offer that I keep being a conductor of light in any way I can, especially since it might help me get my coin back.    All right then, maybe that time lag gets back to what we were talking about a minute ago.    The idea that Cliff was meeting someone for some kind of payoff.   They talk for a while, accounting for the time lag, and then Cliff gets shot, maybe after he voluntarily surrendered the coin to him, as opposed to the coin being taken off his body after the shooting.

 

COLUMBO (nods): Certainly that’s one possibility.

 

WOLFSON: And.....let’s see now.  (Closes his eyes and puts a hand to his forehead).     Silly me, there’s an even simpler answer regarding the time if it isn’t a protracted meeting.    Cliff was still in the office when the call came through and just decided not to pick up the phone.    Maybe he was closing up and decided it wasn’t worth it, or if he answered it, it might delay him in this hypothetica meeting.

 

COLUMBO: And that’s another good possibility too, sir.     I know we have to give consideration to both of them.   (Rises).     I guess that should be it for now. 

 

(Wolfson rises and escorts him to the door)

 

WOLFSON: I’m glad to be as hospitable as I can, Lieutenant.    I’m afraid though, if you need to come back again, I probably won’t be in tomorrow, because some of the collectors who plan on bidding at the auction will be arriving and I plan on having lunch with some of them.

 

COLUMBO: I understand sir.   (Steps outside).    I probably won’t be bothering you again unless there’s any break in the case.     Because one thing we do know.    We find Mr. Allenby’s killer, we find the man who has your coin.

 

(Close shot of Wolfson, his smiled fading just a bit.   Columbo starts to walk away from house, then stops and raises arm as he turns around)

 

COLUMBO: Oh, one more thing.    There is a third possibility to that matter of the time and the missed phone call.     Kind of similar to the second one you put forth, but just a little different. 

 

WOLFSON:  Really?

 

COLUMBO (smiling):  Maybe Mr. Allenby was killed before the call came in.     While he was still in the office.

 

(There is a brief silence.   Wolfson looks non-plussed before answering)

 

WOLFSON: Well, that....really would put things in a different light.     But, it would still fit with the theory that some kind of payoff went awry.

 

COLUMBO: Maybe, sir.   Maybe.    But then again, maybe not.    (Turns away)

 

(Wolfson quickly closes the door.     The zoom on his face and the pulsing music from “Double Exposure” comes up to indicate his uncertainty.    We then follow him as he goes through the empty house back to his study where he opens the desk drawer.    He picks up the prized 1907 gold coin in its mylar envelope, eyeing it carefully.      Then, he places it on the desk, picks up the phone and dials)

 

WOLFSON: Hello, is Mr. Krause available?    Thank you.   (Picks up the coin as he waits).    Chet?    Pete Wolfson.    Fine, thanks.    Look, I just wanted to ask you something about Cliff’s murder.     That detective......ah, Columbo, has he talked to you?      He has?     Well, I was just wondering, was it kind of perfunctory, or was he trying to sound you out on some of the reasons why Cliff was murdered?    (Pause)    I mean, was he trying to get you to venture any opinions on what might have happened, by going over the loose ends or anything like that?    (Pauses as he hears the response.   A faint smile comes over).    He didn’t, huh?    All very perfunctory about the case.    (Pause).    Oh, he actually carries a ‘55 double die on him?     That’s interesting.    (Pause).    No, Chet, I was just curious, because he just left the place and I was wondering if there was something he wasn’t telling me.     And given how much of a stake I’ve got in what happens here......(Pause).    Well, thanks for understanding, Chet.    I’ll see you at the auction, Saturday.   Bye.

 

(Hangs up and he starts to chuckle)

 

WOLFSON: Okay, Lieutenant, the little chess game is in high gear.    But I’ve just succeeded in taking your rook and that’s going to make it tougher for you to put me in check.

 

(Commercial)

 

Scene Eleven

 

(The hallway outside the coroner’s lab at Parker Center.     Columbo is self-consciously keeping himself in the hallway, refusing to ever let himself enter the lab)

 

CORONER: Lieutenant, I could explain this a lot easier if you’d come inside.

 

COLUMBO: No, Doc, that’s not necessary, believe me.    I’ll take your word for it on anything you say, just like always.

 

CORONER (sighs with mild exasperation): Very well.   There’s no question but that the bullet slug removed from Mr. Allenby is a .22.    A single bullet through the heart at close range.

 

COLUMBO: Now Doc, is there any way to tell whether or not a silencer was used?

 

CORONER (shakes head): I’m afraid not.    Silencers tend to vary on whether or not they’ll leave behind gunshot reside from weapon to weapon.    In this case, gunshot residue was present which would indicate no silencer, but that can’t be determined 100 percent.

 

COLUMBO:   I see.

 

CORONER: There was one odd thing though.    The bullet trajectory was downward.

 

COLUMBO:  Downward?     You mean, as if Mr. Allenby was shot by someone much taller than him?

 

CORONER: Perhaps.    But I’d say it was more consistent with him sitting down at the time and being shot by a man who was standing up.

 

(Columbo idly puts a hand to his chin and ponders this)

 

COLUMBO: Doc, let me have another look at his clothes if you’ve got them.

 

Scene Twelve

 

(That evening.    Establishing shot of a downtown Los Angeles restaurant.    Inside, Wolfson is seated at a table with a dark-suited official looking man.    This is IRS agent Coleman)

 

WOLFSON: Mr. Coleman, I want to make sure there’s no misunderstanding on this point.    Once I have the totals from this Saturday’s auction calculated, I will have a check drawn up for the full pending amount and placed on hold with your office so that once the funds are cleared from the buyers, you will be able to cash that check for the full amount and see all outstanding debt cleared.

 

COLEMAN: We’re willing to do that as far as the auction proceeds are concerned, Mr. Wolfson.   However, there’s the matter of the insurance funds regarding the 1907 St. Gaudens coin.     I’m afraid we can’t allow the pending $85,000 to be included in the check because the insurance company is entitled to a lot more time to investigate and see if the coin will be recovered.

 

WOLFSON: Mr. Coleman, that $85,000 may well be the make or break figure when it comes to seeing all debts settled!      Surely, you wouldn’t allow the delay in my receiving those funds to be the sole reason for foreclosure if I end up short?

 

COLEMAN: Mr. Wolfson, we’ve been more than generous in granting you additional time than any ordinary citizen would get.     The auction funds are one thing, because there’s no question of your receiving those funds free and clear, but there remains the possibility that the coin could be recovered and thus, the insurance company would be off the hook.   We can’t very well include $85,000 that might have to be returned, and thus leave you still that much in debt to us.

 

WOLFSON (angrily): Damn it, that’s not fair!     I can’t let anything happen that would result in my losing the house, and since it’s not my fault the coin was stolen, it’s not my fault that I might end up coming short because I wasn’t able to auction the coin!

 

COLEMAN: I have to follow things by the book, Mr. Wolfson.   You must respect my position on this.   

 

(He rises and leaves, leaving Wolfson looking sullen and angry)

 

Scene Thirteen

 

(Wolfson’s house.   We see him go back and retrieve the coin from his desk.    He looks at it and lets out a deep sigh of reluctance.    Then he picks up the phone.)

 

WOLFSON: Hello, Mr. Brenner?    Pete Wolfson.     I want to ask you a blunt question.     Were you able to confirm beyond any doubt that my missing coin isn’t somehow still somewhere in the office?

 

BRENNER (at home in sports clothes): Mr. Wolfson, I assure you, Mr. Bowers and I checked the vault with a fine-tooth-comb and it wasn’t there!

 

WOLFSON (angrily): Well just to be on the safe side, what’s say you open the place up and let me see how thorough the two of you really were!       Neither of you had anything to do with the inventory, so maybe it’s just possible that in the shock over Cliff’s death, you missed something there.

 

BRENNER (indignant): A 1907 St. Gaudens high-relief?     Mr. Wolfson, the idea that two experts in the field as Mr. Bowers and I are, couldn’t recognize that coin is absurd!

 

WOLFSON: Let me be the judge of just how much of an expert you are, Mr. Brenner!     Now I want to spend this evening going through that myself and have my own curiosity satisfied, which I’m entitled to do! 

 

BRENNER (with disgust): All right, all right!    I’ll head downtown and open the place up for you.    

 

WOLFSON (satisfied): Thank you, Mr. Brenner.

 

 

Scene Fourteen

 

(Mishler and Allenby Galleries.    An irritated Brenner opens the safe inside the main examining room and starts taking out the trays containing the albums and mylar envelopes)

 

BRENNER: Here.   Here it all is.    Now you can go ahead and waste your time looking for it, because it isn’t there.

 

WOLFSON: Maybe.   Maybe not.    At the very least, I’ll find out if anything more is missing.

 

BRENNER: I resent that!

 

WOLFSON: And I resent the fact that this gallery couldn’t have adequate security measures to keep this from happening, so I guess that makes us even, doesn’t it, Mr. Brenner?

(There is no response from the deputy director, who indignantly turns and walks out of the main room, leaving Wolfson alone with his collection.     “Double Exposure” music comes up again as he goes to work on the albums, trays and containers, holding an auction catalog nearby for which he can make notations.    He has no intention of pulling his switch early on.     After thirty seconds of this, he then quietly takes out the envelope with the 1907 gold coin out of his pocket and unobtrusively drops it in the middle of one of the adjacent trays while he goes back to one of the other albums)

 

COLUMBO (off-camera as we remain fixed on Wolfson): Mr. Wolfson?

 

(Wolfson slowly looks up, not having expected to hear Columbo’s voice.    He keeps his demeanor calm, trying not to look too surprised?)

 

WOLFSON: What brings you here at this late hour, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: Well this is technically part of a crime scene, Mr. Wolfson, so I think the question that should be asked is what you’re doing down here so late at night?

 

WOLFSON (nonchalant as he keeps inspecting albums): Crime scene, Lieutenant?    Notwithstanding your little speculation when we parted company, you don’t have any proof that Cliff was killed here inside, do you?

 

COLUMBO (moves in front of camera, taking up a position alongside him): Not direct proof, no sir.    But there are things that would count as circumstantial evidence to suggest that maybe Mr. Allenby was killed someplace here in the gallery.    Maybe here in the examining room.    Maybe in his office, next door.    That’s where Mr. Brenner’s waiting now, I just got done talking with him, and he said it would be okay for me to come in here.

 

WOLFSON (lets out a sarcastic chuckle): Even though he promised me I wouldn’t be disturbed.  The way he handles customer releations, he’s not going to keep this gallery in business much longer.

 

COLUMBO: Are you interested in hearing what the circumstantial evidence is, sir?

 

WOLFSON (not looking up at him as he keeps working): Not particularly, Lieutenant.     I’m more concerned with making sure the rest of my collection is where it should be, and maybe if I’m really lucky I’ll discover that this whole business surrounding my missing coin is the result of Mr. Brenner’s incompetentce.

 

COLUMBO: Well, I dunno about that, sir.   That Mr. Brenner, he strikes me as a pretty sharp guy who knows his stuff about the business.     Just like Mr. Krause who runs the other coin dealership knows what he’s talking about, and just like I’m sure Mr. Allenby knew his business.  (Pauses)    It’s the late Mr. Mishler who I’m not so sure about.    The more I learn about him, the more I’m beginning to think that maybe he didn’t know the business so well.

 

WOLFSON (still ignoring him, immersed in the next album in the stack): Is that supposed to be my cue to be startled or impressed, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: Well sir, Mr. Krause was telling me that you and Mr. Mishler were real tight with each other over the years.    I might have thought you’d want to know why I’d have that kind of view of someone you were close to.

 

WOLFSON: Lieutenant, Ted Mishler was a business colleague of many years, who made it possible for me to get enjoyment in a favorite pasttime.     I never had him over for dinner, I never traded Christmas cards with him.     He was not the equivalent of family to me.    I’m sorry he died, but that’s the way it is.  

 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, but would it interest you to know that he may not have run his end of the business honestly?     I mean, that could have a serious impact on how much your coins sell for at the auction, Saturday.

 

(Wolfson stops.   Put his magnifying glass down, and closes the Buffalo nickel album he’s been inspecting.     He looks up at Columbo, his expression still stoic)

 

WOLFSON: All right, Lieutenant, I’ll play.    What have you found out about Ted that should concern me about the auction?

 

COLUMBO: Well, it’s kind of circumstantial at the moment, just like my theory about where Mr. Allenby might have been killed......

 

WOLFSON (interrupting with an edge of sarcasm): Oh, that’s right, Lieutenant, you’ve gotten a bit afield from that, haven’t you?     Maybe we should get back to that point, right now, or is that even a point you planned on making?

 

COLUMBO: Oh, I plan on getting back to that, sir, believe me.     I do have a habit of rambling a bit, and losing track of things.

 

WOLFSON (suddenly raises a finger): Ah, ah, now that’s a very interesting concession on your part, Lieutenant.   You talk about losing track of things when you’re on the job, and I know just how much of a professional you have to be in your line of work.    So with that in mind, why is it unreasonable for me to think that maybe a professional like Mr. Brenner could lose track of where my missing coin is when he’s doing a hasty inventory just after learning that the sole remaining partner gets murdered three weeks after the other partner drops dead and the weight of responsibility for the whole business is on his shoulders now?

 

(Columbo has no immediate response, as if he realizes he’s been successfully parried at this moment by his adversary)

 

COLUMBO: Well sir, that’s an interesting way of putting it-----

 

WOLFSON (turning his attention to the next tray): Lieutenant, you would do me a favor if you’d stop calling me ‘sir’ all the time.

 

COLUMBO: Sorry about that, Mr. Wolfson.    You’re not the first person who’s ever said that to me.   Just my way of being polite.

 

(Wolfson’s eyes narrow and his expression takes on one of stunned surprise)

 

WOLFSON: My God.

 

COLUMBO (leans over): You find something?

 

WOLFSON (slowly picks up the mylar envelope): I certainly have, Lieutenant.   (Holds it up so it is prominent).   The missing St. Gaudens coin.    Right where it should be.

 

(Columbo’s eyes narrow)

 

COLUMBO: Mind if I have a look at that?

 

WOLFSON: Go right ahead, Lieutenant.    If you’ve had a chance to read about this coin, then you should know there’s no mistake.    The extreme high relief with the wire edge.     It’s a great thing of beauty.

 

COLUMBO (nods): It certainly is, Mr. Wolfson.    It certainly is.  (He hands it back to him)

 

WOLFSON: So much for Mr. Brenner and his powers of observation!

 

COLUMBO: Actually sir, I’m not sure it settles that question at all.

 

(Wolfson’s eyes narrow yet again.    He now realizes why Columbo would suddenly call him ‘sir’ again)

 

WOLFSON: I’m assuming you mean something else by that, Lieutenant.   Something that amounts to an accusation.

 

COLUMBO: Oh no Mr. Wolfson, what kind of accusation could I possibly make based on the evidence at this point?    Although you got to admit, it sure is funny that a coin that is so distinctive like this one is could go missing.    The only one of its kind that was ever made in this kind of extreme high relief just like the ancient coins of Greece and Rome.     Even a casual observer could usually spot it at a distance even if he didn’t know what date it specifically was.

 

WOLFSON: And you’ve made that an exact science, Lieutenant?    I think that’s what I find amusing about you.     You never make any kind of allowance for human errror, for human unpredictability.   For you, everyone has to act the same way in a certain fashion as if they were automatons and if they don’t, it has to imply something sinister.     But now, Lieutenant, with the re-emergence of this coin, that puts everything in a new light.     Cliff put it back after all, and notwithstanding what direction he was walking in, he was likely just the victim of an ordinary mugging that turned to murder.     The anomalies could result from something that can never be figured out butwhich aren’t meaningful in the long run.

 

COLUMBO (chuckles):   Sounds like you’d make a great defense attorney, Mr. Wolfson.

 

WOLFSON (his disdainful edge increases): As a matter of fact, Lieutenant, I *have* a law degree.   Oh, I admit, I haven’t used it since I was thirty because once I hit it big in real estate and stock market ventures, I didn’t have to practice law any longer.    But you never forget it completely.

 

COLUMBO: Now that’s very impressive, Mr. Wolfson.    Very impressive.     But since you do have some training, can you then account for the evidence that points to Mr. Allenby being killed here, in the gallery?

 

WOLFSON: You have to prove reasonable doubt on the matter of him being killed outside by the alley, Lieutenant.

 

COLUMBO: Well that is what I’m doing with the evidence that points here, sir.    I mean, that is how the whole legal formula works, right?

 

(Wolfson blinks slightly.    He realizes it’s a point in Columbo’s favor now)

 

WOLFSON: All right, go ahead.

 

COLUMBO: It’s like this, Mr. Wolfson.    Coroner’s report says the bullet’s trajectory pointed down.    It’s consistent with a man standing up shooting a man at close range who is sitting in a chair.     Now there’s no way anyone could have been outside in that kind of a position.    Even if Mr. Allenby were sitting on the sidewalk after being struck down or attacked, the trajectory angle would be more servere.    So if he were sitting down at the time, then obviously that could only have been inside.

 

WOLFSON: And that’s all, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: No, there’s more, sir.   (He sees him glare at him).   Ah, sorry, Mr. Wolfson.    There’s the matter of the time.    The fact that he missed the call from Mr. Krause at 11:15, yet the killer was heard going down the alley at 11:30 by Mr. Bixbee, the derelict.

 

WOLFSON: Known in other circles, as a bum.

 

COLUMBO: Well maybe to some people, Mr. Wolfson, but not to me.    I don’t like that kind of term, because to me, when I come across someone who deserves to be called a bum, it isn’t because of what that person wears, or what his situation in life is.    It’s what he’s done.    But anyway, to get back to the time element.     I had to ask myself, what could account for those fifteen minutes which seems like too much time for Mr. Allenby to leave the office, walk down the street, get mugged and killed and for the killer to leave the scene with his wallet?

 

WOLFSON (interjecting): Bearing in mind of course, that the payoff theory is out the window, now that it’s clear that Cliff never took the coin or had it on him.

 

COLUMBO: Oh that’s right.    Absolutely right, because if there’s one thing that I was sure of even before I came down here, it’s that Mr. Allenby *never* placed that coin on himself at any time.

 

(Wolfson smirks slightly.    He can sense the tension of a back and forth chess game going on, and through it all, he’s convinced only of his belief that he will come out on top)

 

COLUMBO: But anyway, I had to ask myself, what could cause that delay?    And then I realized it could only be this.     Mr. Allenby was killed here just before the phone call from Mr. Krause came in, and it took collectively, fifteen minutes to get the body downstairs and outside where it was dumped in front of the alley.

 

WOLFSON: All speculation, Lieutenant.    A bullet trajectory can be explained by an awkward position the body might have taken during a struggle.     Maybe it’s not as plausible as your sitting down theory, but it still fits with the evidence overall.

 

COLUMBO: Except what happened to the blood?

 

WOLFSON (eyes narrow): The what?

 

COLUMBO: The blood, sir.    Mr. Allenby was shot through the heart at close range, and yet there was almost no blood on the sidewalk where he lay for hours until early in the morning when the body was found.

 

WOLFSON: I would have thought he was wearing a coat at the time.   Couldn’t that have absorbed most of it?

 

COLUMBO: Oh yes, it did absorb a lot of blood underneath.   His overcoat was a real mess and so was his suit jacket.    But the funny thing is, the front of the coat was absolutely clean.    There was no bullet entry hole on the overcoat, or gunshot residue on the coat to denote an entry wound.     And there wasn’t even a trace of that on the suit jacket either.   We only found traces of gunshot residue on the shirt.      Now that would mean his coat would have to have been open at the time he was shot, or he wasn’t wearing the coat or his suit jacket, and it was put on afterwards.    Something that would be consistent with him being shot here, inside, which would also explain why Mr. Bixbee never heard a shot or anyone else outside.

 

WOLFSON (chuckles): You’re very thorough, aren’t you, Lieutenant?

 

COLUMBO: You have to admit, Mr. Wolfson, speaking as a licensed attorney, that it is a solid case.

 

WOLFSON: Then I suppose you’ll be telling me now, just who would have been here to have murdered Cliff and then moved the body afterward to make it look like a mugging.

 

(A long silence fills the air)

 

COLUMBO: Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing games, sir?

 

WOLFSON: That I take, is your accusation that I killed Cliff.

 

COLUMBO: Mr. Wolfson, you’ll make it a lot easier for yourself if you’d just make a statement.     Your being here, returning the coin that you stole to make it look like a mugging only proves that further.

 

WOLFSON: Oh, you mean I put it back just now, is that it?    Tell me, Lieutenant, have you been filming this place since I arrived?    Have you seen me take something out of my pocket to indicate I dragged Brenner out of bed to open up this place just to pull a switcheroo game, instead of being justifiably concerned about my collection?

 

COLUMBO: No Mr. Wolfson, you haven’t been filmed.    I’m only pointing out what it looks like, given all the facts.

 

WOLFSON: Facts, Lieutenant?    I’ve heard nothing from you but speculation and bluffing.     You’ll pardon me if I’m not impressed.     Maybe you’ll explain the motive?

 

COLUMBO: Yes, I will do that.    You and Mr. Mishler conspired to spike the quality ratings of your coins so they’d fetch higher prices at the auction.      When Mr. Mishler died, and Mr. Allenby went back and reinventoried parts of the collection, he realized what had happened, called you down and then that’s when you killed him.    (Pauses).    I’ve checked with the phone company, sir, and there were at least three calls from Mr. Allenby to your house, including one from an hour before the murder.     You really should have remembered that the distance from here to Bel Air is such that the phone company would have a record of that.      I’ve also checked with the cab companies and Sunshine Cab reports a fare pickup five blocks from your house to five blocks from here, and Mitchell Cab reports another pickup at 11:35 on the other side of the alley to a half mile within your house.     Now the drivers of both cabs couldn’t possibly recognize you, but it does lend credence to the idea that you could have come down here.

 

WOLFSON (unfazed): I’ll get back to the matter of your insinuation about my collection in a minute, Lieutenant, but as for the phone call, I spoke to Cliff for about thirty seconds and it was a friendly reminder to come by Friday and make a last check of things before the acution.     It was so insignificant, and I was so tired after I got back from that private shindig that I completely forgot about it.    An honest, *human* mistake on my part of the kind your cunning mind never likes to make allowances for.

 

COLUMBO: Believe me, Mr. Wolfson, I do make allowances for those kinds of things.    But not when the rest of the evidence says otherwise.

 

WOLFSON: And what is the rest of the evidence, as you put it?

 

(Columbo rises and goes over to the door.   He opens it and calls out)

 

COLUMBO: Mr. Krause, could you come in, please?

 

(Krause enters, looking grim-faced)

 

WOLFSON: Chet, you actually let yourself get dragged down here?

 

KRAUSE (gravely): After that strange phone call I got from you asking me if Lieutenant Columbo was sounding me out for my opinion on the murder, the first thing I did was call him and ask him what was up.    I’ve been helping his investigation all evening.

 

COLUMBO: That really wasn’t a smart move, Mr. Wolfson.    You thought you were covering your bases by figuring that I was on to you, but all you did was tip Mr. Krause off that you were under suspicion.   And since then, in between my calls to the cab and phone companies, and getting my reports back from Sergeant Clay,----and  I’ll tell ya, I really thank God I’ve got him to do a lot of the legwork now that I’m getting older----, Mr. Krause has been giving me a real crash course in the fine art of numismatic ratings.     I already figured out there was big difference between keeping a coin in your pocket for years and letting it fade and keeping it safe and sound, but he also clued me in on how a difference of just one point on the MS scale can mean a lot of money.   (Reaches over and picks up the St. Gaudens coin)    You don’t mind, do you?

 

WOLFSON (still looking unfazed): Go right ahead.

 

(Columbo hands it to Krause)

 

COLUMBO: What’s your expert opinion, Mr. Krause?

 

(The dealer holds it in the palm of his left hand and takes out a pocket magnifying glass with his right hand.   He studies it for twenty seconds while an air of tension hangs in the room)

 

KRAUSE: No question.   (Hands the coin back to Columbo).    No higher than MS-64.    From a distance it’s a real beauty and looks almost flawless, but under the glass there’s just a faint shadow of a blemish that knocks the rating at least a full five points down from MS-70 which would be a perfect score.     The edge is just a little too smooth.    I wouldn’t condemn someone who gave it a 65, but 67, no way.

 

COLUMBO: Only a 64.    (Picks up a book from a nearby chair).   This is what they call the Red Book.   The standard guide to telling how much a coin is worth.    (Opens it and flips through it.    He then shakes his head with sadness).    1955 double-die Lincoln penny.      Ho geez.   $18,000 for an MS-65 copy.      Yeah, I could have paid for two years of my kid’s tuition with that!   (Flips through some more).    Ah, here we are.     1907 St. Gaudens high relief double eagle.   MS-64 rating, $40,000.    MS-67, $125,000.   (Closes it and looks back at Wolfson, who remains impervious).    That sir, is motive.    Mr. Allenby was “burning the midnight oil” according to his wife.     And your collection was the only item of important business for the gallery at this point, with the auction just days away.

 

(Wolfson starts to laugh)

 

WOLFSON: Oh, you’re brilliant, Lieutenant.   Brilliant.    All you’ve done is prove that Ted Mishler might have been corrupt if he over-rated my collection.    But you have no correspondence or communications between him and me, do you?    It’s again, all supposition and speculation, and that is never going to get a D.A. to take action, especially since you can’t even prove I was down here.

 

COLUMBO: Mr. Wolfson, if you make your statement now, it’s going to go much easier for you.    It might even mean the difference between life and death, given that we’re looking at Murder One, and conspiracy to commit fraud.

 

WOLFSON (rises):  My only statement, Lieutenant, is to tell you that I am going home to bed, now.    I have a number of collectors to meet tomorrow, and I want to tell them all about the strange habits of the LAPD.   (Stops in the doorway)  And in the meantime, I’ll be telling Mr. Brenner what I think of how he runs his business because if the quality of this coin is lower than what it should be, then all I can say is, now I know the real reason why Brenner reported it lost, because he must have mishandled it and knew it was going to drive the price down!   (He reaches for the doorknob)

 

COLUMBO:  Can you explain the garbage cans, Mr. Wolfson?

 

(He stops and turns around.   For the first time, there is a look of concern on his face)

 

WOLFSON: The what?

 

COLUMBO: Oh, I forgot to tell you.    After I took Mr. Bixbee’s statement this afternoon, I ordered Sergeant Clay to dust the garbage cans and crates in the alley that were knocked over by the man who was fleeing the scene from where Mr. Allenby’s body was found.     Now I’ll grant you, I still have a problem regarding the fact that I haven’t found a murder weapon, but I think it’s going to be awfully hard for you to explain what your fingerprints are doing on the side of a garbage can in the alley just a few feet away from where Mr. Allenby’s body was found.

 

(There is a frozen, stunned look on Wolfson’s face)

 

COLUMBO: Once we got a match on your prints, I made sure we got a warrant for your house.   Sergeant Clay and a team of officers are over there right now, because I don’t think you’ve had time to get rid of the murder weapon.

(Slowly, Wolfson sags and an ironic smile comes over his face)

 

WOLFSON: It looks like I’ve been checkmated.

 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, it looks like you have.

 

WOLFSON (looks at him with amazement): All the time, from the moment you came in, you had the evidence about the garbage cans and my fingerprints yet you dragged this whole thing out with all the other little details first.   All the time, it was heads-I-win, tails-you-lose from the get-go.

 

COLUMBO: Well, Mr. Wolfson, it just comes down to the fact that just like the quality ratings of your collection, the quality rating of your murder scheme wasn’t as good as you thought it would seem to everyone else.

 

WOLFSON:  (Shakes his head).    Underneath that friendly exterior, beats the heart  of a genuine sadist.

 

COLUMBO (shrugs): You had your chance, Mr. Wolfson.    Don’t say you never had any opportunity.

 

WOLFSON (nods):   No, I would never say that.

 

(He opens the door and sees two uniformed officers waiting outside.    He quietly and calmly approaches them and closes the door behind him)

 

KRAUSE (shake his head): You know what the irony is, Lieutenant?     When word of this gets out, the collectors bidding on his stuff won’t even care if the quality ratings have been spiked.    The value of what he owned will treble at least just because of the notoriety factor.

 

COLUMBO: Well, at least he can go to jail knowing his troubles with the IRS will be over.  (He reaches into his pocket and picks out the 1955 Lincoln double-die he has always carried.    The tuba intro of the Gil Melle Columbo theme begins).

 

KRAUSE:  Lieutenant, I still recommend putting that in a folder for safekeeping.

 

COLUMBO: Are you kidding?    Carrying this thing around just brought me good luck, again!

 

(He idly tosses it in the air and catches it as the Melle theme music continues.     Krause smiles back thinly and opens the door, allowing them to both exit.   The door closes behind them and for the final shot, the camera tilts back to the St. Gaudens coin lying on the tray, showing it in all its fine detail)

 

                                                                        The End