Scene One
[We are inside the home of BOB MALLEN.      He is seated behind his desk looking glumly at the television set in front of him.]

NEWSCASTER: (On TV)-All of Los Angeles is abuzz over the arrival of the Atlas Exhibition which opens tomorrow at the Museum of Natural History for a six month stay.       It’s estimated that over 10,000 at least will be present for the first day to see artifacts from the most famous luxury liner disaster of the last half century.     [Black and white file footage of a large three smokestack passenger liner appears on the screen]     It was on December 9, 1941 when the liner Atlas, bound from Los Angeles to Honolulu, became the last casualty of Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor when she was hit by two torpedos from a Japanese submarine and went down with over 500 casualties.    [Images of shipwreck debris on the ocean floor now appear]   For decades, she remained hidden from view at the bottom of the Pacific until five years ago, when a joint expedition headed by Dr. Robert Mallen and Dr. George Bulloch of the Pacific Oceanographic Institute found her in more than 20,000 feet of water, 200 miles east of Hawaii.    The liner had broken in two, scattering much of its luxurious fittings across the sea floor.     When Drs. Mallen and Bulloch brought back their photographs and video footage, it brought back scores of memories for many of the survivors of the greatest shipwreck since the Titanic and the Lusitania.    [Footage of the elderly Louis Pope appears on screen].

POPE: (On TV)-It just happened without warning.    Suddenly we were hit and sinking fast, and as it turned out the Atlas was gone in less than a half hour after she was struck, with half of her lifeboats still not launched.    I’ll never forget jumping off the deck before she went under and how one of the smokestacks fell off and came within six inches of crashing on top of me.     Literally.

NEWSCASTER: (On TV)-A year after the remains of the Atlas were located, Dr. Mallen returned to the scene to make more photographic studies from a two manned submersible.    But despite the bounty of artifacts on the ocean floor, Dr. Mallen refused to recover any objects for perservation, arguing that to do so would constitute the violation of a gravesite.

MALLEN: (On TV)-This site is the resting place of more than 500 souls who went down with this ship.    To me, it’s just exploitation at its worst to think of recovering any of these objects for public display.     They should be left where they are now.

NEWSCASTER: (On TV)-But on that subject, Dr. Mallen found himself in sharp disagreement with his partner from the original expedition, Dr. Bulloch.

BULLOCH: (On TV)-It is absolutely ridiculous to just leave those precious objects of historic significance to rot away on the ocean floor.    They must be recovered and preserved for display in a museum setting for future generations to learn from what this historic tragedy was all about.

NEWSCASTER: (On TV)-Soon, the disagreement between the two scientists erupted into bitter animosity.     It ultimately led to Dr. Bulloch’s resignation from the Pacific Institute in protest over the society’s refusal to recover any artifacts.      An appearance on the CNN program "Crossfire" illustrated how intense feelings were on both sides.    (Footage from "Crossfire" appears)

MALLEN: (On TV)-But for you to justify recovering these items for the sake of history when that means disturbing this site forever......

BULLOCH: (On TV)-Give me a break!    Those items can’t be studied properly on the ocean floor.

MALLEN: (On TV)-And to also disrespect the feelings of the survivors who went through this tragedy by molesting the resting place of their loved ones is disgraceful.

BULLOCH: (On TV)-Why don’t you stop grandstanding for a change!     Half the survivors think your way, but the other half happen to think recovery of artifacts is important for people to remember what the tragedy was all about.     Stop wrapping yourself up in the mantle of the survivors when you don’t speak for all of them!

MALLEN: (On TV)-I speak for Eve Harper and all the other survivors who have spoken out on this subject----

BULLOCH: (On TV)-They are not the only ones who’ve spoken out on this.    You’re a liar, Bob.    An absolute liar!

NEWSCASTER: (On TV)-And that, if you can believe it, was one of the more milder exchanges these two shared on the matter.      When Dr. Bulloch ultimately enlisted the support of both the Museum of Natural History and private industry to finance a new expedition to the Atlas wreck for the purpose of recovering artifacts, Dr. Mallen actually went out of his way to organize a protest march to block Dr. Bulloch’s research ship from leaving the harbor.     Ultimately, Los Angeles policemen were forced to come in to dispel the protestors and allow the salvage mission to proceed.     But that didn’t deter Dr. Mallen in the least, who then filed a series of lawsuits claiming that the salvage expedition violated the normal procedures of maritime law.    However, the lawsuits were ultimately dismissed and after the long process of litigation and restoration, more than 2000 artifacts were finally made ready for a touring expedition that begins tomorrow at the Museum of Natural History.

[Mallen points his remote control at the TV and shuts it off in disgust.     He picks up a letter lying on his desk written in the faint handwriting of an elderly woman and reads it. It is from Atlas survivor Eve Harper, who writes, "Thank you for your tireless efforts to prevent these fortune seeking vultures and pirates from their plundering of my father’s grave."   He then leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling in deep contemplation.    Finally, after glancing at the letter again, he opens the drawer of his desk and calmly pulls out a gun.     Then, he reaches for the phone and dials.]

[We cut to a view of George Bulloch busily at work in his office, located in the Museum of Natural History.    The phone rings and he picks it up, while still working on the papers pertaining to the exhibition that begins tomorrow.]

BULLOCH: Hello?

MALLEN: (Politely) Hello, George.    Long time, no talk.

BULLOCH: (Expression darkens as he grips the phone)   Bob?   You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me.

MALLEN: Hold it, George.    Don’t get hasty and hang up on me.    I’m calling because you and I need to have a meeting to try and settle this dispute of ours.

BULLOCH: (With considerable bitterness) I haven’t a reason in the universe to give you a nanosecond of my time.    If you want to make a public apology for all the bullshit you’ve been spouting the last year, then maybe I’ll have a reason to talk to you, but not before that.

MALLEN: (Still polite) Actually George, it is something along those lines.    But you and I need to meet privately to discuss details before anything like that can move forward.

BULLOCH: (hesitates slightly; gripping the phone, there is a suspicious look on his face)  Why not right now on the phone?

MALLEN: No.   This is too important for the phone.    We have to see each other to work this out.    But the thing is, George, if I agree to meet you on your turf to discuss this dispute of ours, I want absolute secrecy about this.     That means you don’t breathe a word about this to anyone before it happens, and you make arrangements so I can meet you at your office without anyone else knowing I’m coming to see you.

BULLOCH: Then in that case, it’s better that we meet somewhere else.    The museum is crowded with people putting the finishing touches on the exhibition.

MALLEN: Only in the museum.    It’s quite empty in the offices after six, isn’t it?

BULLOCH: (Hesitates again, still finding this whole conversation odd) Yes.    But why here?

MALLEN: You have certain papers in your files about the Atlas exhibition that are of interest to me.    I want the privilege of having a look-see at some of them as a prerequisite to any public apology I choose to give.

BULLOCH: (interrupting coldly)   Hold it.   That sounds a lot like you’re saying you want to go through everything before you make a decision on apologizing.     And that also has the foul smell of a con job being sprung on me.
MALLEN: (hastily, and full of politeness) Not at all, George.    The apology is a foregone conclusion.    It’s just a matter of returning my good faith gesture with one of your own.   (Pauses)    At any rate, it makes more sense for me to come over tonight to get this done.    That way when the exhibition opens tomorrow, this whole ugly quarrel between you and me won’t hang over it any longer.

BULLOCH: (chuckles sardonically) Have you mentioned this to any of your passionate supporters like Eve Harper?     If you plan on apologizing, I can’t imagine they’ll be happy.

MALLEN: They aren’t the issue, anymore than your supporters like Lou Pope are the issue.   The issue is the two of us and ending this quarrel.     Now are you willing to take a shot at doing that, on the eve of your big triumph with the exhibition opening?

[A brief pause as we Bulloch drumming his fingers on the desk]

BULLOCH: All right, Bob.   I’m probably crazy for doing this, but you’ve got yourself a meeting.     Drop by at seven.

MALLEN: And I meant what I said, George.    No publicity whatsoever about this.    You don’t tell anyone in the office I’m coming, and when I check in with the guard in the garage, you don’t mention my name when he calls you to ask if you’re expecting company.      If this agreement falls apart, I don’t want it known we met.    You have to give me that much.

BULLOCH: Very well, you’ve got it.  (Pauses)    Anything else?

MALLEN: No, George.   That’s it.    See you then, and let’s hope it’s all we want it to be.

[Mallen hangs up and then calmly attaches a silencer to his gun]


Scene Three.      The Brentwood home of EDWARD FORRESTER.     We see Mallen knock on the front door and when it opens, we see FORRESTER, a middle-aged, bleary-eyed looking man staring back at him with relief.

FORRESTER: Dr. Mallen!     I’m glad you came.

MALLEN: (enters the room and removes his hat and sunglasses)    I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Eddie.    I want to see firsthand just how much of a computer genius you really are.

FORRESTER (guiding him to the study area where there is a large amount of computer equipment cluttering the room): Let me show you.

MALLEN: Looks as though you’ve made yourself quite a mess.

FORRESTER (beaming): Just a matter of spending the last six weeks doing what I can to come up with the solid info needed to pull this whole thing off.

MALLEN (picking up sheet from computer tray, he reads it and smiles): "I will do all in my power to shut your websites down and see to it that none of you ever get the chance to say one word at all again about the exhibition."    Nice.   That captures George’s voice perfectly.     With this hard evidence sounding just like him, no one will ever believe his denials.

FORRESTER: (smiling) Ah, but here we come to the piece de resistance.      One that makes a threat to shut down anti-exhibition websites look insignificant.     (Hands him another sheet).     A nasty e-mail to dear Eve Harper, in effect threatening to have a gag placed on her and all other survivors who’ve been speaking out against his plundering.

MALLEN: (eyes narrow)   I hope you’re not going too overboard with her.    Something like this could be too much of a shock to her system.

FORRESTER: Hell no, nothing that extreme.  I could have had Bulloch making some remark about who gives a shit if your father’s grave got disturbed, but that would have hurt her more than Bulloch.

MALLEN: Damn right.   George is an insensitve graverobber, but he’s not a moron.  (Puts paper down)   So you’re absolutely certain that these e-mails can be traced back to his computer alone?

FORRESTER: Absolutely.   The headings and everything all point to his account alone.    It’s amazing what a little bit of hacking can do.    Of course he made the big mistake of having his e-mail published on the exhibition website so once I knew what the domain and server was, it was simple child’s play.

MALLEN (smiling): Eddie, you’re a genius.

FORRESTER (sitting down in front of his computer)   I try.   I could spend all day showing you how easy it is.     Now all I got to do is delete the evidence from here to leave no stone unturned.

[Forrester’s back is still turned to Mallen, as Mallen quietly pulls out his gun, which has the silencer attached]

MALLEN: All deleted?

FORRESTER: Yep.

MALLEN: That’s good to know

[He suddenly fires the gun into the back of Forrester’s head]

MALLEN: Sorry, Eddie.   But there’s nothing more you can do alive.
Scene Four.

[A slow montage shows Mallen methodically cleaning up the room and then moving Forrester’s body into the garage where he deposits it in the trunk of a green Honda Accord.  Next to Forrester’s body, he loads a full gas can.    Then, putting his hat and sunglasses back on, and raising the collar of his coat, he gets into the car and using Forrester’s keys, pulls out into the driveway and drives off.    Night is falling as the car pulls up to the parking entrance area of the Museum of Natural History, where signs promoting the opening of the Atlas exhibition are quite prominent.    He grabs a ticket from the automatic vendor, and notes on the other side a guard in a booth who handles taking the tickets when the cars leave the lot.    He pulls down to the service garage, where a second uniformed guard leans forward.    Mallen has his head pressed against the headrest which keeps him largely in the shadows of the darkened garage.    He knows that his already concealed features won’t register too strongly with the guard, which is what he’s counting on]

GUARD: You have a pass?

MALLEN (in a low guttural tone, unlike his own voice):   I’m here to see Dr. Bulloch.   He’s expecting me.    Just ring his office and he’ll tell you.

GUARD: Your name?

MALLEN: Just do it.   He’ll know who it is.

[The guard seems to hesitate slightly then picks up the phone inside his booth.     He dials a number and waits for a moment]

GUARD: Dr. Bulloch?   This is Johnson.    Are you expecting someone?  (Pause)   Oh you are.   Well, could you at least (stops as he’s clearly been interrupted).    Oh, I see.    I see.    I understand.   (Hangs up)   Okay buddy, you can go in.  

[The gate lifts up and Mallen drives past him, finally parking close to the door that leads to the basement level.    Mallen gets out and enters the sliding glass door, walking past the service cafeteria and to the service elevator.     No one else is there.     He takes the elevator up to the fourth floor and steps out into a darkened corridor.    At the far end of the room, a single light from an inner office dimly illuminates the corridor.     He enters the door where this light comes from, where the outer office is dark but the door to an inner office is open, and the lights are on.]

MALLEN: George?

BULLOCH: Yeah, come in.

[Mallen walks into office.      Bulloch is behind his desk in shirtsleeves and loosened tie.     He gets up and frowns when he sees Mallen in his strange attire]
BULLOCH: Bob?   What gives with the spy get-up?

MALLEN: Oh, just a little amateur theatrics to preserve the anonymity of the meeting.     Didn’t want to take a chance on the guard recognizing me.

BULLOCH (shakes his head in amazement): You suffer from a bigger ego complex then I realized if you think a security guard with an eleventh grade education would know you by sight.

MALLEN (taking off sunglasses): Come on George.   Let’s cut the bull and get down to business.    Which is putting an end to our differences.

BULLOCH: All right then.    I’m listening.

MALLEN (sitting down in chair across from his desk): Does the name Eddie Forrester mean anything to you?

BULLOCH (darkens): Of course it means something to me.    Probably your biggest booster on the whole goddamned internet.

MALLEN (nods): That he has been.    You’re probably also aware that he’s something of a computer genius.

BULLOCH: No, I didn’t know that.     Nowadays, even a half-wit like he is could run a website.

MALLEN: Eddie was no halfwit, George.     This will show you what his little mind was capable of doing.   (Hands over the papers Forrester had shown him earlier.     Bulloch glances at them and his face turns purple with rage).

BULLOCH (too stunned and angry): What the hell is this.......I never wrote any of this crap!

MALLEN: Of course you didn’t, George.    Eddie did.    He hacked your system and wrote those phony e-mail messages and sent them first to himself, and then another to Eve Harper, who I imagine is beside herself right now and waiting to strike tomorrow on the day the exhibition opens.

BULLOCH (looks up at Mallen): And this is why you came over wanting to patch things up?    Because you found out Forrester did this?

MALLEN (skips a beat): Not exactly.

BULLOCH: What do you mean, not exactly?

MALLEN (quietly pulls his gun with silencer still attached): It means I asked him if he could do this.

BULLOCH (staring disbelievingly at him): Bob, what the hell is this?

MALLEN: I’m afraid for you, it’s the end, George.     The end of what was once a brilliant career for a great scientist until you sold out your principles the day you raped the Atlas wreck.

[Mallen then fires one shot that strikes Bulloch in the chest.    Bulloch is killed instantly and slumps back in his chair.     Mallen calmly puts the gun away in his pocket, then checks to make sure the papers he gave Bulloch are still on the desk.     Then, he closes the office door and walks at a medium pace down the dark corridor to the service elevator.      We see him return to his car in the garage.      He then pulls out, going past the booth where the guard looks up and takes slight notice of him.   Mallen drives off.    As he exits the service garage into the main lot, he takes the parking ticket out of his overcoat to give it to the guard at the entrance but as he draws near, he squints and sees the guard has gone off-duty.     He sticks the ticket back inside and accelerates faster as he drives off.    Night has totally fallen]


Scene Five:

[Mallen drives south passing signs that indicate he’s driving in the direction of Anaheim.   A sign indicates he is within 15 miles of Disneyland.     He pulls off onto a side road that will simultaneously take him closer to that area while at the same time keep him on a stretch of unused roads.      He finally reaches a winding curve where a guardrail borders a two hundred foot drop into a valley below but where there is a brief gap in the rail that would enable an out of control car to crash through.       With careful precision, he accelerates to fifty miles an hour and then applies the brakes so the tires skid and he comes to a stop just ten feet in front of the rail.    It has been a procedure he’s practiced many times before in preparation for this, because he knows he must leave indicators that would suggest the car driving over the cliff.    He then maneuvers the car back a bit so it is facing the gap in the rail that leads to the drop below.   He hurriedly gets out of the car, then goes back to the trunk were he removes Forrester’s lifeless body and places it in the driver’s seat.     He deposits the hat, sunglasses and coat he’s been wearing on the passenger seat.       He then sets the car in neutral so he can push it from behind.      Going back to the trunk, he empties the gas tank in the trunk and begins to push the car forward.    He can feel it bump against the sides of the rail but it manages to slide through the gap.    He can feel the momentum of the car carrying it over the edge and he hurriedly pulls out a cigarette lighter and ignites it, dropping it into the gasoline filled trunk.     The trunk erupts in flames just as the momentum of his pushing the car forward carries it over the edge where with flames consuming the entire length of the car, it crashes at the bottom, 200 feet below.     Mallen looks down in smug satisfaction and begins to walk.

[An hour goes by and we see him walking up to the Disneyland Hotel, after walking the remaining four miles back to the main highway.     He promptly enters and we see him checking in to the Hotel.    Rather then going up to his room though, he leaves and goes to the Monorail station which takes him to the Park’s Main Street Entrance.    A montage then follows of Mallen enjoying himself on the Pirates Of The Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion and other Disneyland rides until finally we see him leaving at 11 PM with the rest of the crowd.      Last shot is of him entering hotel room and collapsing onto the bed with relief, and a look of satisfaction.]


Scene Six.

[The next morning at the Museum, where there is a flurry of activity with the corridor leading to Bulloch’s office roped off and several police officers milling about.      We see crime scene photographers taking their pictures inside Bulloch’s office and then the camera shows COLUMBO sticking his head inside the outer office, cigar jutting from his mouth]

COLUMBO: ‘Scuse me, Officer?     Anyone seen Sergeant Clay?

[No one responds to him as the crime scene work continues.     Columbo idly shuffles into the outer office and tries to get a photographer’s attention]

COLUMBO: You seen Sergeant Clay?     Young guy, wears a brown jacket usually.   (The photographer, who doesn’t recognize Columbo, shakes his head dubiously and moves away.    Columbo shrugs and enters the inner office.      Bulloch’s body has already been removed but the bloodstains are still apparent.     One of the officers at the scene notices Columbo.)

OFFICER #1: Oh, Lieutenant.    We’ve been waiting for you.

COLUMBO: Yeah, sorry about that.    I’ve been kind of wandering about looking for my assistant, Sergeant Clay.     He was supposed to be here, but I can’t seem to find him.

OFFICER #2 (calling over): Sergeant Clay phoned in a few minutes ago and said he got held up over something in Anaheim.     He’ll be along later.

COLUMBO: I see, thanks.    Guess I might as well get to work on this.      Our victim was some bigshot with that exhibit downstairs, right?

OFFICER #1: Dr. George Bulloch, director of the Atlas exhibition.     If you want more info on him, the museum curator, Dr. Marshall is down the hall.

COLUMBO (leaning over the desk and bloodstained chair) I’ll get to him in a minute.     Cause of death was a gunshot wound?

OFFICER #1: A single shot to the heart, yes sir.

COLUMBO: And no one heard anything?

OFFICER #1: No sir.    Killer evidently used a silencer, because the people upstairs in their offices would have heard something.

COLUMBO: And no one saw the killer?

OFFICER #1: The guard inside the parking garage is pretty sure he saw the killer.     Bulloch had a visitor last night who came up around seven and left just twenty minutes later.     Odds are, that’s the guy who did it.

COLUMBO (taking cigar out to contemplate): Hmmm.    Okay.    The guard available?

OFFICER #1: He’s with Dr. Marshall next door.

COLUMBO: I’ll have a word with them.   (He stops to look at an elaborate model of the Atlas that rests on the table and shakes his head with appreciation at the craftsmanship before moving out.    He walks down the hallway and enters the next office, where a distraught Dr. JIM MARSHALL  and the subdued guard JOHNSON are waiting.)

COLUMBO: I’m ah....Lieutenant Columbo, Homicide.    If the both of you could just give me a few minutes of your time, I’d appreciate it.

JOHNSON: Lieutenant, I can tell you everything you need to know.     At seven last night, a Green Honda----

COLUMBO (fumbling with his pockets): Ah, wait a sec.    Just let me get my book out— (he then realizes his notebook isn’t there).     Geez, I could have sworn I packed one of those.    (Reaches down to the desk to look for a sheet of paper but finds none)    Ah.....either of you have something I can write on?

MARSHALL (staring at Columbo dubiously amidst his distraught expression): No.   Sorry.

JOHNSON: I don’t have anything either.

COLUMBO (still looking about): Well, I really need something to get this.....ah, the hell with it. I’ll have you repeat it later if I forget.   (Looks up)    Okay, sorry.    You said a Green Honda at seven came in last night?

JOHNSON: Yes sir.   I was on duty then.    The museum was closed and most staff cars were gone by then, except for Dr. Bulloch and a few others.    This Honda pulls up and the driver says he has an appointment with Dr. Bulloch at seven.

COLUMBO (still idly grasping at his coat pocket): Did this driver leave a name?

JOHNSON: No sir, he didn’t.    But he said Dr. Bulloch was expecting him, and that I should call Dr. Bulloch’s extension to confirm that.
COLUMBO: So you spoke to Dr. Bulloch, and he said he was expecting a visitor.

JOHNSON: I did.   So I figured I could let his car pass.

COLUMBO (he’s suddenly had a recollection and sticks his coat inside where he pulls out his notebook.   It’s been inside his suit jacket pocket, not his raincoat pocket): Found the sucker!    Okay, now I can get caught up-----(stops as he realizes something else)    Ah, gotta pencil?   [An impatient Marshall hands him a pen]    Okay, thanks.    Yeah, I’ve got that early stuff.    Could you describe the driver?

JOHNSON: Not too well I’m afraid.    He was mostly hidden in the shadows.    I saw a hat, dark glasses.    Nothing definite.    

COLUMBO (writes): Okay.    You did see this car leave?

JOHNSON: At about seven twenty.    And pulling out of the lot pretty fast.

COLUMBO: License plate number?    Can you remember any of that?

JOHNSON: Not all of it.    California plates.     Expiration sticker for this October.     And there was a 47 in the second group of characters.    Maybe an LH in the first batch but I’m less sure of that.

COLUMBO: That’ll probably be enough though.    Okay, you can go now.   (Johnson leaves).   Okay, Dr. ah.....Marshall, is it?

MARSHALL (torn between his distraughtness over Bulloch’s death and his instinctive annoyance with Columbo): Yes.    I’m the museum’s chief curator.

COLUMBO: And this Dr. Bulloch was a friend of yours?

MARSHALL: For many years.   He came to me first when he wanted to put together an expedition that would lead to recovery of objects from the Atlas for display here.

COLUMBO: Yeah, the Atlas.    I can remember seeing the newsreels about that when I was a kid.     I think I saved a whole week’s allowance to buy the model kit they came out with after she sank.    Nothing like what I saw in the office next door of course, but-----

MARSHALL (cutting him off): The exhibition was supposed to open today, but obviously of course we’ve had that postponed out of respect to him.

COLUMBO: Yeah, good idea there.    Now tell me, Dr. Marshall, did ah....Dr. Bulloch have any enemies who’d want to do this?

MARSHALL (grunts in disgust): Too many.   And all of it was totally undeserved.     The only people who hated George Bulloch were a bunch of self-righteous bastards with no respect for historic preservation.

COLUMBO: What do you mean by that, sir?

MARSHALL: What I mean, Lieutenant, is that there are people who have smeared George’s reputation, and this museum as well because we took part in this recovery of artifacts from the Atlas.     To those people we’re a bunch of evil graverobbers disturbing the sanctity of a tomb.    And because of that, they have decided that it gives them the right to lie about what we’ve done.

COLUMBO (somewhat surprised by this): That’s.....pretty tall stuff, Doc.     Are you saying any of these people would have had a reason to actually kill Dr. Bulloch?

MARSHALL (looking ruefully toward the model): Before yesterday I would have thought an idea like that too crazy to consider.     Now that George is dead, I think it’s the only explanation.

COLUMBO: I think before you start making accusations, Doc, it’d be a good idea to answer some other questions first.     Did Dr. Bulloch have any problems, financially?

MARSHALL (irritated): No.    And to save you some trouble, he was happily married and had no personal problems regarding other women or anything like that.    George was the most decent man I ever knew.

COLUMBO (apologetically): Sorry if I’m upsetting you, Doc, but we have to know these things first before we can get anywhere else.

MARSHALL (sighs): I guess you’re right, Lieutenant.     Sorry, it’s just that (shakes his head)... this has been a very ugly situation for a long time now, and to see it all end up like this is just..... beyond anything I thought might happen.

[Marshall’s administrative assistant, STEWART, sticks his head in the door]

STEWART: Dr. Marshall, I’m afraid we’ve got some problems downstairs.

MARSHALL (his irritation returns): I’m busy right now.     I can’t waste my time on anything else.

STEWART: Sir, it’s Eve Harper.    She and about a half dozen reporters are downstairs demanding to find out what’s happened because she’s saying that George sent her a threatening message yesterday.

MARSHALL (eyes widen in disbelief): She’s saying what?

[Columbo steps toward Stewart]

COLUMBO: ‘Scuse me.   What’s this all about?     Who’s this Eve Harper?

MARSHALL (indignant): Someone who gives the survivors of the Atlas a bad name!

[Columbo glances at him in surprise then turns back to Stewart]

COLUMBO: I want a word with her now, if this concerns the Doc’s death.   Dr. Marshall, I think you should stay here for now.

[Stewart leads Columbo out into the corridor]

COLUMBO: Who is this Eve Harper?

STEWART: A survivor of the Atlas, and the biggest critic of the whole salvage expedition and museum display.    She says salvaging the artifacts is the equivalent of grave robbery.

COLUMBO: Hmmm.   Yeah, I sort of see where she might be coming from on that, though I really don’t have a problem with taking up a few artifacts.   (Glances at Stewart)    You guys didn’t bring up any bodies or things like that, did you?

STEWART: Absolutely not, Lieutenant!    Personal objects were strictly off-limits in our salvage of the wreck.     Our intent was and is, to simply preserve pieces of the ship for posterity, not to display bodies or personal effects.    But for extremists like her, just to take up one teacup from the dining room we found on the ocean floor is graverobbing.

COLUMBO: And do all the survivors think like she does?

STEWART: No, they don’t.    It’s about a 50-50 split among 60 survivors who are still alive.    The problem is she’s the most vocal one and appears on TV so damned often you’d think she was the only survivor with an opinion!  

[They reach the main level of the museum, where EVE HARPER, a distinguised lady in her seventies is standing with several reporters flanking her]

EVE (her voice cold and dripping with contempt): I figured that they’d send down a subordinate like you to handle this, Mr. Stewart.      Is that graverobber too afraid to face the press and repeat what he said to me in this filth? (She holds up a sheet of paper and angrily slaps her hand against it)

STEWART: (sourly)   Eve, I don’t think you understand what’s happened here.

EVE: And don’t act so informal with me!    Your boss’s obsession with robbing a grave has moved beyond the pale when he starts making threats against me!

COLUMBO: (stepping forward)   Excuse me, mamm’.    Would you mind if I have a look at that?

EVE: Who are you?   Another of Bulloch’s stooges?

COLUMBO: No mamm’, I’m Lieutenant Columbo, Homicide.    I don’t think you realize what’s just happened.     Dr. Bulloch has been murdered.

[Stunned reaction from both Eve and the several reporters]

REPORTER #1: Lieutenant, what information do you have----

COLUMBO (holds up hand): No comment on the investigation right now.    Mamm, do you think we could talk some more about this in private?

EVE (hesitating slightly): Well.....very well then if it’s official business, that’s fine.    (Turns to reporters)    I believe I won’t be needing you gentlemen any longer owing to these new developments.    I will have a statement at a more appropriate time.

Scene Seven.    Marshall’s office.   Columbo is looking over the paper Eve has been carrying while she speaks.

EVE: You can imagine the shock I felt last night when I consulted my e-mail and found this piece of trash waiting for me.     

COLUMBO (biting on cigar stub as he reads aloud): "If you do not cease to refrain from your slanderous and libelous attacks on the Atlas exhibition and myself, I will sue you for every cent you have and see to it that you and your ilk that disgraces the cause of scientific and historic inquiry is never able to say a word in public again."

EVE: A disgraceful threat against me to try and stamp out my rights as a concerned citizen to speak out against this plundering of my father’s grave and the grave of other Atlas victims.

MARSHALL: Lieutenant, this is crazy.    George couldn’t possibly have sent something like that.     Eve, I freely admit there’s no love lost between you and he, but sending something like that and threatening a lawsuit isn’t his style.

EVE (coldly): Then maybe you knew him less then you realized, Dr. Marshall.   (Looks at Columbo)    But what was all this about him being murdered?

COLUMBO: Dr. Bulloch was killed last night by someone who made an appointment with him, so it had to be someone he was acquainted with.   (Puts the paper down)    Miss Harper----

EVE: It’s Mrs. Harper, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Sorry.   Mrs. Harper, seeing that there was this kind of animosity between you and Dr. Bulloch, did that also apply to other people who supported your cause?

EVE: You mean, am I familiar with anyone who would be mad enough to actually kill him, Lieutenant?      Sorry, but I am a decent Christian woman, and I don’t associate with people like that.

[First police officer enters the room]

OFFICER #1: Lieutenant, I think you might want to see this.    We found it on Dr. Bulloch’s desk.   (He hands Columbo a sheet of paper which is wrinkled and slightly bloodstained)

COLUMBO (reads it, frowns and then looks at the paper he’s been reading before).    Well now this is interesting.     This is the same e-mail he sent you, Mrs. Harper.

MARSHALL (stunned): That’s impossible, Lieutenant.    Simply impossible.     George isn’t capable of doing something like that.

EVE (feeling vindicated): Yet a copy of that trash just happens to be in his office on his desk?     I’d like to see you try and spin that, Dr. Marshall.    Naturally, I am sorry that Dr. Bulloch has been killed, and my sympathies go out to his wife, but his death is not going to be used as an occasion to eulogize him as a great man and justify this exhibition if I have anything to say about it!

[MARSHALL glares at her with contempt but decides to keep silent]

COLUMBO: Well, this letter being in Dr. Bulloch’s office doesn’t really help us much as far as the investigation goes, but.....I’m afraid Mrs. Harper it does come back to if anyone you know who’s supported your opposition to the exhibition would be capable of doing this.

EVE: Lieutenant, if someone who supported me did this, I wouldn’t hesitate to name him and see to it that he receives just punishment.    Unfortunately, my dealings have been with decent and reasonable people only, so I can be of no use to you there.

COLUMBO: I see.   You’re free to go now.

[Just then, a slightly disheveled SERGEANT CLAY enters the room]

COLUMBO: Ah, Clay, glad you finally arrived.

CLAY: Sorry Lieutenant, I got delayed outside Anaheim.     A car ran off the road and exploded and I stopped to lend a hand with the local investigation.

COLUMBO: Like any good cop would.    Anybody killed?

CLAY: The driver never had a chance.    We ran a check on the car through the rear license plate.    Victim actually lived not far from here, some computer programmer named Forrester.

[Eve is halfway out the door when she stops in her tracks and turns around in stunned shock]

EVE: Excuse me, but did you say Forrester?

CLAY (frowning): Yes.

EVE: Edward Forrester?

CLAY (frown deepens): As a matter of fact, yes, but how-----

COLUMBO (piqued): You’re familiar with someone with that name?

EVE: Why yes.    Yes, he’s probably one of my closest friends in my crusade against Dr. Bulloch.

[Columbo’s eyes narrow and then he holds up his arm, and turns back to Clay]

COLUMBO: Was this car a green Honda?

CLAY: Can’t confirm the color but it was a Honda.

COLUMBO: California plates with an LH and a 47?

CLAY (Nods, baffled): Yes.

MARSHALL (a slow nod of satisfaction): Eddie Forrester.   God damn, it would have to be that prick.

COLUMBO: Looks like we just got our major break in this case right off the bat.

Scene Seven.

(Columbo is in passenger side of squad car as Clay drives them out to Anaheim wreck scene)

CLAY: So it seems to shape up like this, then.    Forrester finds out about Bulloch sending these notes to Eve Harper, and it sets him off to the point where he goes down to the Museum, confronts Bulloch, murders him and while he’s getting away he drives off the road.

COLUMBO (fingers on lips as he’s contemplating, his gaze out the window):   Seems that way.     

CLAY (glancing at Columbo with a half-smile): But?   If there’s a loose end, Lieutenant, I’m all ears.

COLUMBO: And that’s why you’re my assistant, Clay, and don’t you forget it.  (Pauses)   We know that Dr. Bulloch knew Mr. Forrester had to be coming down to the Musuem, because the guard was explicit on that point.    He called Dr. Bulloch, and the Doc said he was expecting a visitor at that time.  (Glances at Clay)    Now how did Mr. Forrester get Dr. Bulloch to agree to a meeting in the first place, especially one at that time of day when no one else would be in the Museum offices to notice?

CLAY: That’s one question we can’t get an answer to with both of them dead.

COLUMBO: True.

(The car pulls up to the wreck scene where two other police cars are stopped.    Columbo gets out followed by Clay)

CLAY: There probably isn’t much left by now, but I figured you were entitled to an up-close look.

COLUMBO: Yeah, thanks.

(Columbo goes over to the charred remains of the car and goes around to the front passenger side.     He peers inside the smashed window)

COLUMBO: Officer!

(A uniformed officer comes over)

OFFICER: Yes, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Anything been taken out of here other than the body?

OFFICER: No sir.

COLUMBO: Thanks, just needed to know.

(Columbo gingerly opens the door and places his hand on the burned seat.    A balled-up object has caught his attention.      He gently fingers it, then put his hand to his chin in contemplation once again)

Scene Eight

(A convention room at the Disneyland Hotel.     Before a crowd of about 20 people, Mallen is speaking.    His suit shows signs of wrinkles)
MALLEN: Now of course, the argument has been made that my opposition to recovering objects from the Atlas means that I am opposed to all forms of historic preservation, and nothing could be further from the truth.     There are scores of historic shipwrecks from ancient times to the 19th century that easily fall under this category because the reason for preserving these objects is not the kind of cheap sentiment that we’d associate with the Atlas exhibition.     I----

(As Mallen talks, we see someone whispering news to the person seated next to him.    It sets off a chain reaction and soon everyone is stirring)

MALLEN: (looking slightly befuddled, but inside he knows what’s happened) I think that if we were to devote as much energy to-----

(A man in the front row, who is the conference organizer BARTLETT, comes up to the podium)

BARTLETT: Dr. Mallen, I apologize for this interruption but we’ve just received some news that I think puts today’s proceedings in a new light.     Dr. George Bulloch, of whom some harsh words have been spoken about today, was murdered last night.

MALLEN (feigning shock): My God!  (Takes a breath)   Ladies and gentlemen, I think Mr. Bartlett is right.    There’s no point in my proceeding with my prepared remarks because of this.    I....I don’t know what to say, except.....George was a brilliant scientist whom I respected.     I....I think it best we adjourn.

(The people file out.    Mallen exchanges a couple words with Bartlett and then makes his way out at a slow pace.      When he exits the Conference Room, he sees Columbo standing in the hallway)

COLUMBO (chewing on cigar butt): Dr. Mallen?

MALLEN: Yes?

COLUMBO: My name is Columbo, I’m from the LAPD Homicide division.    Sorry I had to break up your speech there by having the word passed on about Dr. Bulloch, but I didn’t see any other way.

MALLEN: Well, yes.   No problem about that.    That’s....I’m just shocked about what happened to George.    He and I haven’t been on good terms for some time, but.....you just don’t wish for something like that to happen to anyone!

COLUMBO: No, I guess not.    (Looks about)   Do you mind if we talked?     I could sort of use lunch myself.    And this Hotel’s got a great menu, I can still remember when I first took my kids here years ago that there was more than just a park to Disneyland.

Scene Nine
(Disneyland Hotel restaurant.    Columbo is enjoying a bowl of chili while Mallen, somewhat dubious as to whether Columbo could really be a policeman, picks at a chicken entree)

COLUMBO: You know, I read somewhere once that Walt Disney himself really loved chili.    Used to mix his favorite brands together to get the right mix of meat and beans until it was just right.     Now me, I don’t go that far, I like to enjoy one recipe alone and savor it that way.     You combine things together and it can sort of backfire on you sometime.    (Takes a sip of water)   Geez, that probably wasn’t the right word for me to use.

MALLEN (still somewhat dubious): Can we get back to the investigation, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO (lightly tapping his chest to break up gas as he raises his other arm): Right, sorry I let that kind of slide.    Dr. Mallen, do you know someone named Edward Forrester?

MALLEN (without batting an eye): Yes.

COLUMBO: How well do you know him?

MALLEN (leans back in contemplation): Oh....I’d say not enough to be good friends, but enough to be close acquaintances.     Eddie feels the same way I do about salvaging the Atlas  and he’s put up a website trying to drum up sentiment against the exhibition.

COLUMBO: Well Doc, I gotta ask you this.    Is Eddie Forrester the kind of guy who would murder Dr. Bulloch in the name of advancing this cause?

MALLEN (frowning): You’re joking, aren’t you, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Well, I’m afraid not, sir.   You see....well it’s kind of like this.    At the moment, Mr. Forrester appears to be our man.

MALLEN: What do you mean, appears?

COLUMBO (hesitates): Well, it’s kind of like this.    Mr. Forrester apparently shot Dr. Bulloch, and while he was making his getaway, he drove off the road about 15 miles from here.     Car exploded once it hit the bottom of the ravine.

MALLEN (slowly exhales): It’s so hard to believe.    I mean....good God, Eddie had his eccentricities, but to take things this far just seems too incredible to believe.

COLUMBO: Well, we’ve been searching his house, and I should get a report back from my assistant as soon as they’re done on that end.    In the meantime, since I heard from Dr. Marshall at the Museum that you were giving a speech here at the Disneyland Hotel today, I figured that since this was relatively close to the Forrester wreck, I ought to come talk to you as soon as I was done over there.

MALLEN: I appreciate that, Lieutenant.   In....spite of what I went through with George, I do want to know how this investigation proceeds.

COLUMBO (finishing his chili): Well, I’m glad to hear you say that, sir, because there are a few areas where you might be able to help me with the investigation.

MALLEN: Well, I don’t know if there’s anything I could do to help.   I hadn’t seen Eddie in some time, and as for George, well....must have been more than a year since we had that blowup confrontation on TV.

COLUMBO: Well about Mr. Forrester, were you by any chance expecting him to be here at the conference?

MALLEN (hesitates): Well....no, I wasn’t expecting him to be here, but if he had shown up it wouldn’t have surprised me.

COLUMBO: So that means you weren’t surprised when you didn’t see him here this morning when you were making your address?

MALLEN: No.

COLUMBO: But he would have likely known you were going to be here to make the speech, right?

MALLEN (shrugs): I suppose so.   My being here has been public knowledge for some time, Lieutenant.    I’m sure Eddie knew I was going to be here.

COLUMBO: You know that’s what I figured, sir.    Because let’s look at what we’ve got so far.   Mr. Forrester kills Dr. Bulloch, and then what does he do?    He doesn’t go back to his house to destroy anything incriminating he might have there about any plans to murder the Doc.     Instead, he takes off down toward Anaheim, and drives off the cliff just 15 miles from here.     Now if he’s just killed the Doc, why do you suppose he might have done that?

MALLEN: Um....I really don’t think I’d know why.    Maybe he’s on his way to Mexico?

COLUMBO: Oh I doubt that very much, sir.   I don’t think he was planning to leave the country when he left the Museum.

MALLEN: Why not?

COLUMBO: Well sir, we checked his bank.   He’s got a pretty good account, and he hasn’t made any withdrawals for a week.    Now someone who’s planning on committing murder, and is afraid he’s going to get found out that he’d leave the country isn’t going to leave that much money untouched.    He’d withdraw it before he commits the murder.

MALLEN: So....(he frowns) Lieutenant are you suggesting that maybe Eddie was going to see me?

COLUMBO (holding up a hand): Well now sir, I’m not suggesting that you would have had any prior knowledge of this, but it seems likely that Mr. Forrester probably figured that you were the likeliest person to contact or turn to after doing this.

MALLEN: Well if he had tried to contact me, I can assure you the first thing I would have done was turn him in.  

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I’m certain you would have done your civic duty right away, sir.    But Mr. Forrester, he wouldn’t have known that.    He might have thought somehow that you’d hear him out, and maybe give him some help.

MALLEN (finishing his drink): He would have thought wrong.

COLUMBO: I’m sure of that, sir.

MALLEN (pushes plate aside): Well this has all been very interesting, Lieutenant, and naturally I’m still shaken by this tragedy, but if there’s nothing else I think I’ll be going now.    I do need to see if the rest of the conference is going to proceed.

COLUMBO: Yeah, I’ll bet you’ve been working real hard on all this, sir.   It really shows a good deal.

MALLEN: Does it?

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I couldn’t help but notice your suit.    Looks like you’ve had it on for some time, or as if you’ve worn it a couple days in a row.

MALLEN (looks wryly at Columbo): It seems like you’ve done that longer with your suit, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO (chuckling): Yeah, I guess so.   (Mallen rises)    There is one thing though.

MALLEN (stops): Yes?

COLUMBO: About the murder itself.    All the facts of the case are pretty obvious, and yet....there are a few things that just don’t make much sense.

MALLEN (knowing he needs to hear this out): Like Eddie not emptying his bank account?

COLUMBO: You’re right.    Because if he didn’t go to the trouble of doing that, it makes it seem like we’re looking at an unpremeditated murder.   Like maybe he just went to see Dr. Bulloch to confront him, but not kill him, and the murder was an accident.  (Pauses)   But the problem is that theory doesn’t make sense either.

MALLEN: Why not?

COLUMBO: Well, why would Mr. Forrester go to the trouble of disguising himself in the coat, hat and dark glasses?     The security guard was explicit about the killer being dressed like that.    That’s the mark of someone who has to have done some deliberate planning ahead of time, yet he hasn’t gone to the trouble of making sure he has necessary funds to make his getaway.   (Shakes his head)   Lot of strange contradictions, I tell you.

MALLEN: Well, it’s all interesting but at least you know the basic answer about who killed George, and that’s all that counts, isn’t it?

COLUMBO: Well yes sir, I suppose so.    I know a lot of detectives who think it’s okay to leave a few loose ends hanging if the big picture is pretty clear, but.....me, I’ve never been like that.    Loose ends, they just....well they just bother me, sir.      I think my wife says I obsess so much on loose ends in my work that that’s why I can never find the desire to buy a new suit.

MALLEN (smiling thinly, wondering what to make of Columbo): Bad habits are always hard to break, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Oh, I never said it was a bad habit, sir.  (Smiles) I’ll be in touch.

(Turns and walks away, leaving Mallen feeling slightly wary)

Scene 10

Mallen returns to his hotel room and removes his rumpled suit jacket.    He begins to feel self-conscious of his wrinkled attire and decides he needs to have it pressed.     He strips off his trousers and then puts on the hotel furnished robe.    Once it’s secure, he picks up the phone.

MALLEN: Front?   This is room 394.    I need to have my suit pressed quickly.   It’s a bit of an emergency.  (Pauses).    Yes, an hour would be fine.     Thank you.  (Hangs up, then awkwardly picks up phone to dial again).    Hello?    This is Hertz rental?    I need to rent a car this afternoon.    Oh, around three o’clock.     Yes.   The name is Mallen.   M-A-L-L-E-N.    Gold Club member 41412.     Yes.     (Pause).    Thank you.   I’ll be there.

A knock on the door makes Mallen get to his feet, thinking it’s the delivery to pick up his suit.     When he opens the door, he freezes slightly when he sees Columbo.

MALLEN (surprised): Lieutenant!

COLUMBO (smiling): Sorry to bother you Doc, but there was something I forgot to do during lunch.    I hope I’m not intruding on you or anything like that.    

MALLEN: No, no not at all.

COLUMBO: I just had to ask you one more thing about Eddie Forrester.      Now I know you said you weren’t too chummy with him, but....did you know who some of his other friends in this anti-salvage movement might be?    People he might contact if he felt he were in trouble?

MALLEN (shrugs): There are quite a few people allied in the movement, Lieutenant.    I suppose Eve Harper, who’s the leading Atlas survivor against salvage would be one of them.

COLUMBO: No, I wasn’t thinking of someone like her.    I had a chance to meet her this morning at the Museum, and she struck me like the kind of person who wouldn’t help out a killer, no matter what kind of cause he did it for.

MALLEN: Then you have me at a disadvantage Lieutenant, because I wouldn’t be able to name other associates of his off the top of my head.      Why is that important?

COLUMBO (closes the door and sits on the bed, shaking his head): Not sure, really.    It’s just that....(looks up) It’s kind of like in that handout of yours I read downstairs, where you talk about how you and Dr. Bulloch found the Atlas.    It took you weeks to find the wreck because all your charts and calculations kept saying it was in one position, but it turned out it was never there.    Not even close.

MALLEN: Well yes.   Our...sonar calculations misread things badly.     That put us on a wild goose chase for quite some time rechecking a position that wasn’t accurate instead of moving on.

COLUMBO: And that’s something I can relate to completely, Doc.    I mean, I’m no fancy scientist, that’s your job, but I can definitely relate to something like that, especially in my line of work.     And you know (shakes his head), there are things about this case that just don’t make sense.

MALLEN: How?    I mean, it is obvious what happened, isn’t it?

COLUMBO: Superficially, yeah, like one of those ah....sonar charts you mentioned.     But you see, I look at the particulars of this case, and I’m trying to put myself in Mr. Forrester’s shoes, recreating all the movements he made after he killed Dr. Bulloch and ended up going off the cliff, and it’s coming out all wrong.

MALLEN (not showing any emotion): How is it coming out wrong, Lieutenant?    I grant you, it’s strange that he didn’t take any money out of the bank, but maybe he just panicked, or maybe he was thinking he could get help from me, or one of these associates you want to track down.

COLUMBO (taking cigar butt out of mouth): Well that’s not the only thing, sir.    There’s also the matter of the coat and the hat.

MALLEN: What about them?
COLUMBO: They were found lying on the seat of the car.    Burned pretty bad beyond recognition, but the lab tests on the material confirmed that’s what they were.    The hat and coat he wore when he went in and out of the Musuem.

MALLEN: I think you’ve lost me, Lieutenant.


COLUMBO: He wasn’t wearing the hat and the coat at the time he was killed.   That’s the problem.

MALLEN (not understanding at all): Why is it a problem?

COLUMBO (rubbing forehead): Because sir, the way this is supposed to look is that Eddie Forrester drove off the cliff because he was panicking and not paying attention to the road.    That means he had to have been feeling that way pretty much from the minute he killed Dr. Bulloch and made his getaway from the musuem.     But in order for him to not be wearing that hat and coat that he was wearing in and out of the museum, he had to have stopped someplace to take them off.

MALLEN: So?

COLUMBO: But why would he have stopped?    He’s in flight from a murder, and panicked to the point of driving off the road, so where would he have stopped to take off his hat and coat, and why did he stop?

MALLEN (slowly nodding): Oh....Yeah, I think I get your point.   You mean, if he stopped somewhere, maybe it was to phone someone, a contact that he might have wanted to turn to after he killed George?

COLUMBO: That’s exactly what I had in mind, sir.   Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I just need to be sure that you weren’t in any position to get a phone call from him yesterday, if he thought of contacting you.     When did you check into the hotel, yesterday?

MALLEN (looks up in contemplation): Oh....I think I checked in a little before eight I think it was.

COLUMBO: So you weren’t down here at all before the murder took place?

MALLEN: Well I was here, but not checked into the hotel.    It was a nice day yesterday so I decided to do something I hadn’t done in years and check out the park.    It was kind of nice to go on the Haunted Mansion for the first time since I was ten years old.

COLUMBO: Oh, you went into the park?    Rode all the rides?    Must have been fun.

MALLEN: Yes.   I ah....was in there for a couple hours, then I finally checked in when I took the Monorail and came back here to grab some dinner, and then I went back to the Park for a couple more hours before calling it a night.

COLUMBO: So you went to the Park, checked in and had dinner and then went back to the Park until it closed, right?

MALLEN: That’s about it.     If Eddie tried to contact me, he wouldn’t have gotten my room, I don’t think.

COLUMBO: No, I guess he wouldn’t have.    They wouldn’t have even been able to tell him that you’d checked in.      I guess you must have really been anxious to ride the rides.

MALLEN (smiles weakly): I kind of did it on impulse, but yes.   Something about being at Disneyland that can really bring out the kid in you.

COLUMBO: Yeah, I know what you mean.    Now me, when I grew up in New York, we only had Coney Island to go to for rides and they didn’t have anything that could compare to what Disneyland’s got.       Not that I’m knocking Coney Island, mind you, it’s just the Disney people....they always knew how to make rides with style.

MALLEN (feeling his impatience return): Of course.

COLUMBO: Well I guess that’ll be it for now.      I need to check back with my assistant.    He’s handling things at Forrester’s house, checking out all his computer files to see if they might yield anything.      I tell ya, that Sergeant Clay is a real whiz about computers.      If it weren’t for something he taught me about screensavers for instance, I wouldn’t have nabbed a pretty big killer a few months ago.       Don’t know if you read about it, it was a TV game show host who killed his business partner.

MALLEN (shakes his head): I’m afraid not.

COLUMBO: Nah, I guess not.    Not everyone gets a chance to read about these things.     I guess the only thing I need to do is take a note and get your phone number in LA so I can contact you after you get back.   (Reaches inside his raincoat but finds his notepad isn’t there).    Now how do you like that, that’s the second time today I........Oh! (Grins sheepishly as he reaches further inside his suit jacket and pulls it out)    Looked in the wrong pocket.    Just need your local phone number.

MALLEN: Of course.    415-1912.

COLUMBO: Got it.    Well, I’ll be seeing you.   (Turns to go but then there’s a knock.    Columbo opens the door and the attendant is standing there).

ATTENDANT: Your suit sir?    We were told you needed it pressed.   (Eyes Columbo’s attire).  You really should have had it laid out for us, sir.
COLUMBO (chuckling): Oh no sir, not me.   I think you want to speak to the Doc over there.

MALLEN (coming towards them carrying his suit jacket and trousers): Yes, it’s my suit that needs pressing.    I need it back in an hour so I can leave.

ATTENDANT (Takes the suit):  Of course, sir.  (Eyes Columbo with slight disdain)   You sure, you wouldn’t want yours done too, sir?

COLUMBO: No thanks, I’ll make do.    (Door closes and Columbo fingers his lapel).   I guess it could use a good pressing.     I tend to go a bit too long getting things like that done.    Drives my wife crazy.

MALLEN: There isn’t anything else you need, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Ah no, Doc.   No, I’ll just be going.   Sorry to have kept bothering you about this.    I guess you’ll be heading back as soon as the suit’s ready.

MALLEN: Yes.

COLUMBO: Well, see ya around.   (Opens the door and leaves.    Mallen uneasily sighs in relief that he’s gone).

Scene 11

An hour has elapsed.    Mallen is nervously sitting in front of the TV, waiting for his suit.    The sooner he can leave, the better he’ll feel.     As he watches, a newscast comes on.

NEWSCASTER: The planned opening of the Atlas exhibition at the Museum of Natural History was delayed today under tragic circumstances when Dr. George Bulloch, the head of the expedition was found brutally murdered in his office last night.      Police investigations are currently centering on one of the most active members of the movement opposed to the exhibition, Edward Forrester, who allegedly killed Dr. Bulloch and then was killed fleeing the scene when he drove his car off the road outside Anaheim.

Mallen gets up and stretches his arms, his impatience rising.     He is half paying attention to the ongoing newscast when he suddenly hears the familiar voice of Eve Harper coming from the set.

EVE:.........I had been one of the most vocal critics of Dr. Bulloch and his exhibition.     But today, circumstances have caused me to reassess everything I’ve believed and felt about Dr. Bulloch these last few years.

Mallen’s head darts back toward the set and his eyes widen in astonishment.

EVE:   I still feel there are serious ethical questions raised by the act of salvage, but that does not justify the act of murder.      Dr. Bulloch may have been at worst misguided, but he was a man of principle, whose actions I’m sure stemmed from what he thought was right.     Accordingly, I have no intention of encouraging anyone to not visit this exhibition when it opens.    It should be entirely a matter of individual conscience.

Mallen dimly switches off the set, feeling as if he’s had a blow to the head.     It makes no sense to him that Eve would be taking this position in light of the e-mail messages that had been planted in Bulloch’s office.    He’s still in a state of dumbfounded disbelief when there’s a knock on the door.     It takes him a minute to get up and answer.    He sees the attendant who is holding his suit, looking sheepish.

ATTENDANT: I’m sorry sir, but we weren’t able to get your suit pressed.

MALLEN (eyes widening): Why not?

ATTENDANT: Our equipment’s broken down.    We’ve had to shut down our entire cleaning service for the rest of the day until it’s fixed.

MALLEN (with disgust): Great.   

ATTENDANT (hands him the suit, which is still wrinkled): We’re really sorry, sir.

MALLEN: I’ll bet.   You’re not getting any tip from me.   (He closes the door, takes off his robe and puts his wrinkled jacket and trousers back on.    For the next several minutes he gathers his other items and heads for the door.    When he opens it, his eyes widen when he sees Columbo standing there.)

MALLEN: Lieutenant, what are you doing here?

COLUMBO: Sorry sir, I needed to talk to you again.    Mind if I come in?

MALLEN (wondering what else could be wrong now): Even if I did, I suppose I couldn’t refuse.    Come on in.

COLUMBO (puts his hands together): I’ve kind of spent the last hour wandering about, making a couple phone calls, putting a few things together.....and I gotta be honest, Doc, I keep coming up with things that I don’t feel comfortable about.      So I thought I might come back and see what you think about some new ideas I’ve been consdering.

MALLEN: Like what, Lieutenant?

COLUMBO: Well sir, it’s like this.    You know we’ve been talking all this time about why Eddie Forrester did all those strange things after murdering Dr. Bulloch and haven’t come up with any answers that make sense.     Stopping to take off the hat and coat.    Not taking money out of the bank.    And not even contacting you.     I mean, even though you didn’t check into the motel until after he was probably killed, he still could have left a message at the desk that could have been delivered to you.     But he didn’t do that, even though he supposedly stopped.    It just didn’t make any sense to me.

MALLEN: Well, I suppose there are some things that can never be completely understood, Lieutenant.    Whatever was going through Eddie’s mind will have to stay a mystery forever.

COLUMBO: You know that’s true some of the time, sir.    There are times when you have to realize you’re at a dead-end and can’t straighten out any of those little things that don’t make sense.    But me, I never like to do that unless I’m at the end of my rope.    I have to explore every alternate theory that can straighten out those loose ends, and see if I end up with something that’s ultimately a lot more plausible.    And that’s what I’ve been doing, and I’ve come up with an alternate theory.    And you know what it is?   (Mallen shrugs his shoulders no).    I don’t think Eddie Forrester killed Dr. Bulloch.

MALLEN (feigning a dubious expression but inside he’s reeling): Why would you say that, Lieutenant?      I mean, the killer was driving Eddie’s car.    Eddie drove the car off the cliff and his body was inside, so-----

COLUMBO: I think someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look like Eddie Forrester killed Dr. Bulloch.   (moves back and forth in front of him).    And the thing is, Eddie likely set himself up as a fall guy without realizing it.

MALLEN: You’ve lost me, Lieutenant.

COLUMBO: Well sir, after I left, the first thing I did was call Sergeant Clay at Mr. Forrester’s house.    I told you what a genius he is when it comes to computers.     Well the reason I mentioned that is because he did some checking of Mr. Forrester’s computer, and then cross-checked with the museum.     And what it comes down to is this.    Those e-mails that Dr. Bulloch wrote, that supposedly led Mr.Forrester to confront him?     They weren’t written on the Doc’s computer, they were written on Mr. Forrester’s.

MALLEN (eyes narrowing): How did you figure that out?

COLUMBO: Well sir, it had to do with Mrs. Harper’s copy.   Dr. Marshall, Bulloch’s assistant, he noticed it when he studied her copy and then told Sergeant Clay about it after he got back from taking me out to the Forrester wreck.   The version she received came at 3:30 yesterday afternoon.      And there is no way that Dr. Bulloch could have sent an e-mail at that time because the entire computer system at the museum was down for two whole hours.   (There is no reaction from Mallen).      And when Clay went back to Mr. Forrester’s house, he checked his computer quite thorougly.     The files had been deleted, but the recycling bin hadn’t been emptied.    You know that’s a feature that let’s you recover files that have been deleted and you have second thoughts about it.    (For a brief instant, Mallen freezes but it passes).   And there it was.   The exact same e-mails supposedly written by Dr. Bulloch, right there on Mr. Forrester’s computer.   He was the author of them, not the Doc.

MALLEN (looking confused): But....how can that prove that Eddie didn’t kill George?    If anything, that only makes his guilt more obvious.

COLUMBO (shaking his head): No sir, it doesn’t.    Because if Eddie faked those e-mails, and Dr. Bulloch knew he didn’t write those e-mails, then why did he agree to a meeting with him?    For what reason would Dr. Bulloch have to be worried, when his first instinct probably would have been to publicly deny everything and then produce the obvious proof of his innocence which was the Museum’s system being down that afternoon?

MALLEN: Lieutenant, your theory is sounding just too bizarre for me.    And I really need to be going since I have a long drive ahead of me.    (Starts to head for the door).

COLUMBO: I wouldn’t go, sir.    Because then I’d have to have you arrested right now.

[Mallen stops in his tracks and turns around, his expression frozen]

MALLEN: You what?

COLUMBO (drawing towards him): It means I’d have to arrest you now.     But I think you should at least hear how I know you killed Mr. Forrester and then killed Dr. Bulloch before I go to that trouble, wouldn’t you agree, sir?

MALLEN (shaking with anger): Oh you’d better believe it, Lieutenant.    And then when you’re done, I’ll see to it that you’re never a lieutenant again.

COLUMBO: I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening, sir.     You see, I suspected you the instant I saw your suit.     It didn’t make any sense to me that a professional man like you would address a conference in that kind of condition.    A cop like me, I can get away with that sort of thing because it doesn’t matter how good our clothes are, so long as we get the job done.   That’s why the captain doesn’t lean on me so much to buy a new suit.     But you, you’re in a job where appearance counts.    Why would you not have another suit with you?

MALLEN: This was strictly a one day trip, Lieutenant.   That’s why I felt I could pack light.

COLUMBO: All right.   That would explain that.    Yet you felt the need to go on the rides in the park, have dinner, and then go back to the park again.    You still maintain that?

MALLEN: Of course I do!

[Columbo pulls out a small flashlight like device from his pocket]

COLUMBO: Then you won’t mind if I ask you to put your hand underneath this light, Doc?

MALLEN: What?

COLUMBO: Your hand, sir.   You see, if you left the park with the intention of returning, then standard procedure is for your hand to be stamped so that when you return, they know you’ve already paid your ticket and you can go back in.    If you went back to the park, you had to have had your hand stamped.

MALLEN (feeling an edge of panic.    He hadn’t anticipated anything like this happening so soon).    I’ve showered since last night, Lieutenant, how could it still be there?

COLUMBO: Residual traces stay on the hand for at least 36 to 48 hours, Doc.

MALLEN (gathers his strength, knowing he must think fast): Lieutenant, you won’t find any stamp on my hand.

COLUMBO: And you have an explanation for that, sir?

MALLEN: Yes (takes a breath).   I was with a young lady, last night.    A lady of....questionable morals.    I....met her in Los Angeles, and she drove me up here.    We....spent some time in the park, and then came back and......well, let’s just say that she profited from the evening.

COLUMBO: I see (puts a hand to his chin).    And I assume that this young lady, is the reason why you didn’t drive your own car from Los Angeles, and why there’d be no record of you renting a car in Los Angeles or using public transportation to get here?

MALLEN: That’s exactly right.

COLUMBO: And if I were to ask for this young lady’s name, you wouldn’t give it to me.

MALLEN (emphatically): No I wouldn’t.    I’m not proud of this, Lieutenant, but she has her privacy, and I have mine.     And since you don’t have any evidence that could tie me to George’s murder, you have no right to pry into this sordid matter of what I did last night any further.

COLUMBO: Well, you’ve got a point, Doc.   If you were to tell that story to a DA, it would make him reluctant to bring charges if there was nothing to tie you to the scene of the crime.    All I’d have would be some speculations about you setting up Eddie Forrester to write those phony e-mails so you could have the perfect fall guy in a revenge campaign.   I’d tell them how I think you killed Eddie, and then approached Dr. Bulloch as yourself when you killed him, since it would make more sense for him to see you if he thought you were going to expose a misdeed of Eddie’s.     But you used that as the occasion to kill him, plant those e-mails and make it look as if Eddie killed him in a rage over e-mails the Doc had sent.

MALLEN (sarcastically): And how did I arrange for Eddie to drive off the cliff if he was already dead hours earlier?

COLUMBO: Oh, I can figure that part out, sir.   You skid the car to a stop before the rail.    You get out, you put Eddie in the driver seat and then push it over the cliff and then the force of gravity does the rest.    But putting the hat and coat next to him, instead of putting it back on him, that was a mistake.    Because that was all I needed to realize it was phony.    And I think if I have the lab boys recheck the crime scene to test out my theory of what really happened, I think it’s only a matter of time before they can find the evidence proving that’s how it happened.    They were just going by what seemed like the obvious at the time.    But when you tell them to approach it from another angle, that’s when they have a way of finding the missing pieces of the puzzle.

MALLEN (his tone takes on an edge of contempt):   And if they do find those “missing pieces” as you call them that proves Eddie’s car wreck was staged, you still get left with the problem of nothing to tie me directly to the scene of the crime.     So, I suggest you back off Lieutenant and let me go on my way!   (Reaches for the door knob)

COLUMBO: There is one more thing, sir.    If you just let me explain what it is, I think that will wrap things up completely.

MALLEN (takes his hand off the door and points angrily): You have one minute.

COLUMBO: You remember how I had trouble finding my notepad?    I always instinctively put it inside the raincoat pocket because that’s the easiest place for me to get it from.    But sometimes, when you’re wearing a suit with a lining that has a pocket underneath, you can inadvertantly put it in the wrong pocket, like I did twice today.  (Pulls out his notepad from inside his suit jacket).    I mean it’s such an easy thing to do and your mind is so convinced you stuck it inside the outer coat that it never occurs to you to look inside the coat underneath.

MALLEN: Fine.   This will teach you to be less careless, Lieutenant.    Now get to the point.

COLUMBO (pulls out a pair of tweezers from his side pocket): Here’s another thing I sometimes have to keep in the raincoat.     Doc, would you mind opening your jacket?

MALLEN: What?

COLUMBO: It’ll just take a sec.

[Mallen angrily unbuttons his wrinkled suit jacket.   Columbo comes up and opens it, and then sticks the tweezers inside the pocket inside the lining.     Seconds later, he pulls them out, and Mallen’s eyes freeze in horrified shock at what he sees]

COLUMBO: Can you explain this, Doc?

[Mallen is staring in wide-eyed horror at a parking lot ticket from the Museum]

COLUMBO: You see, the killer arrived at the Institute before the main parking lot attendant went off-duty.   That meant he had to punch the machine for the ticket that would let him in.    But by the time the killer was done, the guard had closed up and anyone still parked at the Museum would be able to leave through an open gate, exiting the main lot.    And that meant the killer never had to give his ticket back to the guard.   (Pauses)   You thought you stuck it inside the coat you wore over your suit, and which you left in the front seat with the hat before you pushed the car over the cliff with Eddie’s body inside.    But you didn’t.   You made the same mistake I made with my notepad and you put it inside your suit jacket and never gave it another thought.      (He holds the ticket up to the light).    And you’ll notice that these parking tickets are time stamped, and this one puts you at the scene of the crime right before the murder took place.

MALLEN (choking for words): You...you planted that.

COLUMBO: No sir, no policeman’s fingers have touched this.    Oh, I admit we had to use these tweezers to take it out when I realized it was possible this might still be inside.   That’s why we had to intercept your suit and have the attendant tell you the machinery had broken down and it couldn’t be pressed so we could inspect it.   We couldn’t take the risk that running it under the press would destroy it.    But all we used was a tweezers and once we saw it, it was placed right back where we found it.   And it won’t be too much to see if your fingerprints are on it, which they would be since we know the killer didn’t wear gloves.   (Pauses)   Should I go on?    

MALLEN (his shoulders sag in defeat): No.    (Looks at him).   It...it was a matter of principle, Lieutenant.    What George did was....it was just wrong.   So wrong to plunder that ship.

COLUMBO: Maybe sir, but as you heard Mrs. Harper say on TV, it doesn’t justify what you did.     And the way you did it, which caused Mr. Forrester to get killed as well only shows that it wasn’t principle over the Atlas that made you do it, it was something more cold and base.    Just the simple power of hatred for one man.   (Motions)   We might as well get going, sir.

[Mallen nods faintly and opens the door.   His steps are very slow and his head bent down as Columbo leads him out.      The door closes and the END TITLE goes up]