Three Strikes and You're Out  By Eric Paddon    Columbo could be said to have made detection a sport, from his peerless fielding of clues to his sparring with the rich and ruthless and his homerun solutions. There is a sportsmanlike quality to Columbo's televised cases: All the clues are there for your potential disovery, and although the lieutenant may bluff, he ultimately plays by the rules of the fairplay sleuth. However, only a few of his cases have been set in the athletic arena, two on the gridiron -- "The Most Crucial Game" and "Bird in the Hand." "The Most Dangerous Match" finds our lieutenant checkmating a chess master, while "A Matter of Honor" features him locking horns with a matador. "Murder in Malibu" offers a soupcon of tennis, but our murderer's main game was played out in the boudoir. It's somewhat surprising that Columbo has never taken to the field for a case set against the great American pastime. The egos and intrigues of major league baseball lend themselves to criminous intrigue, and the suspense of a good ballgame are as teeth-rattling as a wily game of "how's-he-gonna-catch-him?" So here's Columbo's turn at bat against anartful Dodger. But there's more to this tale than a mere day at the park: Eric attempts to address some serious modern-day concerns about how we view cultural relations and high-profile crime. Eric Paddon teaches history at Illinois' Wheaton College, and has written a number of Battlestar Galactica fanfics, including a 450-pages is a crossover with the "Planet Of The Apes" universe.

Scene One-Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles. A packed crowd on a sunny mid-September Sunday afternoon is watching the home team play the New York Mets. The play-by-play of broadcaster VIN SCULLY describes what we see.
 

SCULLY: And it's now the bottom half of the ninth inning here at Dodger Stadium. The Mets lead the Dodgers three to two, there are two outs and no one on base. The Dodgers have Jose Martinez ready to come to bat now, and just behind him is the big man in the lineup, with over forty-five home runs this season, Sammy Jordan. And you can bet anything that this crowd would love to see Sammy get one crack at winning this game, but that's all up to Martinez at this point.
 

[We cut to a view of the owners box at Dodger Stadium. Leaning forward in shirt sleeves and loosened tie with an anxious edge is Dodger General Manager ELLIOT ROSS. Ross is a relatively handsome man in his late 40s. Seated next to him, immaculately attired in dark business suit is the Dodgers principal owner ARTHUR KENNICUTT, totally bald and in his late 80s but still a quite vigorous looking man who seems at least 15 to 20 years younger than he actually is.]
 

SCULLY: Martinez steps in to face Harper, who leads the National League with 32 saves. Jose batting .302 with twelve homers and seventy runs batted in. He's two for three on the afternoon with a run scored, so he's been in that good groove lately. The pitch from Harper is a slow fast ball in there, for a called strike one.
 

ROSS: (muttering) Did it again. Always takes the first pitch no matter what. Every pitcher gets away with a batting practice pitch the first time with him.
 

SCULLY: Jose steps out. Back in now. He's not looking for long ball at this point, he just wants to punch one to the hole in the right side and get on base so Sammy can get his chance. Harper set. The pitch.....a slow change and he swings and misses for strike two.
 

ROSS: (banging his hand against the rail in front of him. He is clearly more on-edge than Kennicutt, who is sitting back in his chair with a relaxed air). In an 0-2 hole again! No wonder he's at the bottom of the league in walks.
 

KENNICUTT: (calmly) He's a disciplined hitter, Elliot. Doesn't your chart say he also seldom strikes out swinging?
 

ROSS: True.
 

SCULLY:The Dodgers are now down to their last strike. They need this win to stay eight games back of the San Francisco Giants in the National League West race with just twenty-two games left in the season. Harper gets the sign. The pitch......just missed! Boy, that took a lot of patience on Martinez' part to lay off that one.
 

[Ross takes a gulp from his glass of scotch on the table next to him. Kennicutt is stoically sipping from his own glass]
 

SCULLY:The one-two pitch.......lined into right field for a base hit! The tying run is now on with two outs and here comes Sammy! Listen to this crowd get up and on its feet!
 

[In the box, the tension on Ross's face is intense. Kennicutt sets his drink down and leans forward in his chair, his hands together as he looks down at the field in rapt fascination. Below we see star right fielder SAMMY JORDAN, a handsomely sculpted black man in his late 20s step into the batters box. The standing ovation he is receiving from the crowd is deafening. As the applause mounts, we cut to a shot of the stands next to the Dodger dugout where watching the action in a white tank top with the Dodger logo and blue jean cutoffs is the stunningly beautiful blonde haired TANYA WHITE, a leading supermodel who also happens to be Jordan's girlfriend. She pumps her fist in excitement as her boyfriend comes to bat.]
 

SCULLY:And now, Harper will stall for time to try and break this crowd momentum by having a word with his catcher Pat Duncan. Also they know they've got to be careful with the pitch selection to Sammy because there's probably no one in baseball with a better ability to read a ninety-eight mile an hour fastball and put it into orbit than Sammy. And that pretty much negates Harper's best pitch. Okay, the conference breaks up. Sammy is one for four on the afternoon. His two run homer back in the fourth accounts for both Dodger runs, and that was his forty-fifth home run of the season which leads the National League. He's batting .321 with 112 runs batted in. Just an absolute dream season for Sammy this year, and there's little doubt among most experts that he'll be the National League's MVP when all is said and done. Left handed batter against left handed pitcher but Sammy hits them quite well. Harper set, the pitch.......fastball swung on and missed! Oh boy, Sammy's already anxious to try and put one out but he just didn't get around quick enough on that. And that tells you that Harper is not about to let himself get intimidated by Sammy's reputation as a terrific high heat fastball hitter.
 

[Cut first to reaction shot of Tanya clapping in stands. Then to Kennicutt who has inched closer to the rail, and finally Ross who is sweating visibly]
 

SCULLY:Sammy's back in now. Harper doesn't seem to be giving Martinez any thought at all at first, but Jose's likely not going to take any chance that might end the game without giving Jordan his crack. The set.......the pitch.........In the dirt, nice stop by Duncan to hold the runner. That evens the count one and one.
 

[Tight close up of pitcher's determined face. Then rapid cuts to Tanya, Kennicutt, Ross and finally a determined Jordan vigorously taking a practice swing in the box]
 

SCULLY:Harper still not giving Martinez any thought at first. A double in the gap likely ties the game so the outfield playing deep. The set.......the pitch.....(crack of the bat).
 
 
 

[Abruptly Ross rises from his seat with an expression of excitement. Tanya bolts to her feet and shouts "Go!" Kennicutt slowly gets to his feet and braces himself with anticipation]
 

SCULLY:Swung on and hit in the air to deep right field! She is..........GONE!! Two run homer for Sammy Jordan and the Dodgers win it four to three!
 

[Wild applause erupts throughout the packed stadium as Jordan slowly, proudly circles the bases. He is smiling as he pumps his arm into the air]
 

TANYA: (on her feet clapping vigorously) I love you, Sammy!
 

[Jordan finishes circling the bases, gives high fives to his teammates, and then doffs his helmet triumphantly to the crowd as he moves toward the dugout. He sees Tanya cheering and he flashes a grin and a thumbs-up to his girlfriend before he enters the dugout and disappears]
 

ROSS: (rising from his chair more in relief than anything else) Well, that means we don't lose any ground in the race.
 

KENNICUTT: (he is smiling, but not letting himself get carried away over the dramatic win) Elliot, you need to think more realistically. An eight game deficit with twenty-one left to play in the season is too much to overcome. And we're not going to win the wildcard, so that means we have to think more and more about what kind of team we'll be fielding next season. (He looks down and sees Jordan come out of the dugout again for a curtain call. Immediately, he points down at him) And he needs to be at the center of our plans for next season.
 

ROSS: (Sags slightly. Whatever joy he's felt over the victory is now gone and his anxiety has returned). Arthur, I'm afraid at the moment it doesn't look good. He seems dead set on leaving after this season and signing with either the Yankees or the Mets.
 

KENNICUTT: (Looks at him, clearly annoyed) What makes you sure of that?
 

ROSS: (Sits down and looks out at the field). I had a long talk with his bloodsucking leech of an agent the other day. Sammy wants a long term deal that'll come out to at least $150 million when all's said and done. (Shakes his head) We can't afford that kind of contract, Arthur. We give Sammy a contract like that and we throw the whole Major League salary structure even more out of whack than it already is.
 

KENNICUTT: (his annoyance deepens) But according to Epstein, the Mets or the Yankees could afford that kind of contract?
 

ROSS: (Looks at him and smiles mirthlessly) I think you already know the answer to that, Arthur. Both New York teams have big annual cable revenues that give them an extra hundred million to play around with each year. If either of them want Sammy, they can afford him. But if we took him back at the price he wants, then we won't have anything left to pay the rest of the team for all intents and purposes.
 

KENNICUTT: (Rises slowly from his chair and glares at him) Elliot, I'm the kind of owner who prides himself on being totally hands-off when it comes to baseball operations decisions, but this is one instance where I'm going to have to intervene. Sammy Jordan is the first legitimate superstar this organization's developed since Mike Piazza. And you know what a disaster it was when the last owners literally drove him out of town. I'm not going to let the same kind of mistake happen now that I'm the owner of the Dodgers.
 

ROSS: Arthur, if you value this team's stability for the long-term-----
 

KENNICUTT: Elliot, I am 86 years old. Now I pride myself on the fact that my doctor tells me that I'm in great physical and mental shape and that there's no reason why I shouldn't live to be more than a hundred. But I didn't buy this team from Fox just so I could sit back and watch a collection of no-names coast to mediocrity year after year. I bought this team because I wanted to help field a winner for Los Angeles, and because the fans want to see some immediate results for a change. If I were interested in making safe, conservative decisions about how it's more important to consider where the team might be ten years from now instead of next year, then I certainly wouldn't have wasted the last years of my life buying this team.
 

ROSS: Arthur, if we commit $150 million to Sammy Jordan, then how in God's name could we ever find the money to pay for an extra pitcher or two we might need? Or that extra infielder up the middle who gives us solid defense?
 

KENNICUTT: (Stares at him for a minute) Come down to my office, Elliot. I really didn't want to have to say this to you, but if this is the attitude you're developing with regard to Jordan, you've left me with no other choice.
 

[Ross is sweating even more as he gets up and follows Kennicutt out of the private luxury box. They pass through the crowds of VIPs leaving their adjacent boxes, some of them shaking hands with Kennicutt and Ross along the way and offering their congratulations over the victory. They go down a ramp and reach Kennicutt's private office. It is quite handsome and befitting a powerful, wealthy owner. The desk is beautifully carved oak. There are photographs showing Kennicutt with prominent figures from the world of politics through the years, and framed awards from his days as a leading publishing entrepreneur. The most prominent feature in the office though, is a large oil painting situated on the wall opposite the desk. The painting depicts a beautiful brown-haired woman in her mid-30s. Ross has always suspected it's a portrait of Kennicutt's long-dead wife, but he's never bothered to ask.]
 

KENNICUTT: (Sits down at his desk and motions Ross to sit down. He does not look at him as he goes through some folders) Now if I understand you right, Elliot, you're saying that the reason why we're going to lose Sammy Jordan to free agency is because the team can't afford the financial burden of a long-term contract for him.
 

ROSS: That's exactly what I'm saying, Arthur.
 

KENNICUTT: (Smiles without warmth as he continues to go through folders). You know Elliot, when I was the so-called king of the publishing world, I always had high regard for those employees and subordinates of mine who had a keen understanding of fiscal responsibility. In the publishing world that always had to be the bottom line first, or I'd never have become one of the richest men in America. (Looks up at him) But in this business, fiscal responsibility can only go so far, especially when it's a question of whether or not it impacts our chance of winning and giving the fans who come to our games a championship. The owner of a sports franchise has to be more concerned with whether or not he can give the fans what they want most, and that's a winner. And this team, despite having one of the proudest, richest legacies in all of sports, hasn't put out a winner in more than ten years. The fans are restless. They want action. They want a winner again. And there is no way that this team can win a World Series without Sammy Jordan.
 

ROSS: Arthur, there are plenty of teams in baseball who have that kind of one big impact player like Sammy is. But if you don't have the other elements that are necessary to make a ball team complete, then ultimately a player like Sammy becomes just a large piece of dead weight.
 

KENNICUTT: That's bull, Elliot. Total bull and you know it. Sammy Jordan has more natural talent and ability than any other player that's come along in the last decade. He's already a lock for the Hall of Fame at the rate he's been going. We let him get away from us, and we take more than just one step backward.
 

ROSS: Arthur, we can't afford to take on the kind of contract he wants!
 

KENNICUTT: (His smile grows contemptuous) Your concern for fiscal responsibility would ring with a good deal more credibility, were it not for your track record, Elliot. (He opens up the first folder on his desk) In the last four years that you've been General Manager of the Dodgers under the previous ownership, you personally negotiated six free agent signings that represented a combined investment of well over $200 million in long-term contracts. And let's take a look at how those panned out. (Looks down) Reggie Williams. Starting pitcher. Signed by you to a six year contract worth $60 million because he had just come off multiple 20 win seasons for Baltimore. The fact that he was 34 years old at the time, which is regarded as dangerously old for a front-line starter seemed to make no impact on your decision to give him that kind of contract. The result? After only one productive season, Reggie blew out his arm, and for the last two years hasn't pitched an inning and he refuses to retire because then he'd be forfeiting his paycheck that he continues to collect from us. So for the last two years, we've spent $20 million on a player who hasn't played one inning of baseball for us.
 

[Ross shifts uneasily in his chair]
 

KENNICUTT: And then there was Jose Gonzalez, the thirty year old shortstop you signed to a five year deal worth $40 million, even though he'd never hit higher than .260 for Atlanta or shown much speed or any other tools that one might hope to see in a shortstop.
 

ROSS: His defense, Arthur. His defense was what we needed.
 

KENNICUTT: But in his first season with us, he suddenly developed throwing difficulties which negated his defense and thus made him an $8 million a year player with no value at all. It seems that you were so anxious to lock him up that you ignored the medical warnings on him which was what caused every other team that might have otherwise signed him to give him short, lowball offers only. (Looks up at Ross) Should I go on to mention Richie Simmons, Matt Knight and David Lawson?
 

ROSS: (Feeling like he's being pistol whipped) No, Arthur. You don't have to.
 

KENNICUTT: Good. (Closes the folder) Because that at least indicates you understand why I, as well as all of the limited partners, do not exactly feel inspired by your track record as General Manager, Elliot. When I took over the team, I didn't want to be hands-on like a George Steinbrenner, and so I agreed to keep you and all of the other experienced baseball men on. But now it's taken me a year to realize that while you're a loyal employee who's given 25 years of service to the Dodgers as a scout and director of minor league operations, as a General Manager, you've been a flop.
 

ROSS: (digs his fingernails into the chair) So are you saying I'm fired, Arthur? Is that it?
 

KENNICUTT: (Shakes his head) Oh no. Not at all, Elliot. I'm just pointing out to you, that if you can afford to be overly generous with players who didn't deserve big contracts, you're more than capable of telling Sammy Jordan that he can ultimately expect the same kind of deal from us.
 

ROSS: Arthur----
 

KENNICUTT: I don't want to hear anymore about fiscal irresponsibility. It's my money that's going into this team, Elliot, and if going into the red for a few years is what we have to do to win a championship, I'm prepared to do that. A championship means more revenue, higher attendance and more advertising sales. We'd be able to make up the difference in no time at all if we have a winning team on the field.
 

ROSS: Arthur, it's not just the fiscal issue that makes Sammy a cancer to this team, there are other factors too.
 

KENNICUTT: (With disdain) Like what? The fact that he's a black man dating a high-profile supermodel who happens to be white?
 

ROSS: It's not the fact that she's white, it's the fact that he flaunts that relationship so much in the clubhouse that it has other players resenting him.
 

KENNICUTT: Then maybe the problem isn't Sammy, but the other players. At any rate, who he sleeps with is his business, not ours.
 

ROSS: It isn't just that he dates a supermodel that makes him a problem, Arthur. Now that he's a superstar, he's developed a me-first attitude that has a disastrous effect on team chemistry. And that's one of the subliminal factors to a winning team that a stat sheet on home runs can't communicate. Sammy Jordan ultimately cares more about his stats and his individual fame then he does about the team's success. He'd rather hit 50 homers and lose the pennant then hit 30 homers and get a ring.
 

KENNICUTT: (stares at him). You sound like a man who's grasping for excuses, Elliot. But they won't wash with me or the other partners. Since I don't seem to be getting through to you on the matter of why Sammy Jordan is important to this team's future, then maybe you'll understand this. (Leans forward in his chair, full of authority) If Sammy Jordan isn't resigned by this team for next year and beyond, then not only will I terminate you as General Manager, I'll also see to it that no other team ever hires you for that kind of position again. Because if you can't keep a star player like Sammy, whose meant a lot to this team for so long since he first came up through the system, then you've no business taking that kind of irresponsible management style to any other team. That's something I'd never want to wish on any of my fellow owners. (Sees his reaction) Oh, don't worry Elliot, you wouldn't be in the unemployment line if it came to that. I'd simply reassign you to a job that's more within your capacities, such as Scouting Director, or Minor League Operations, which in fairness is the kind of work I know you're brilliant at. But it's becoming clear to me that maybe General Manager is too demanding a position for you. If you want to change my mind about that, you'll get Sammy reinked to a new contract. (Leans back in his chair) Don't let me down, Elliot.
 

ROSS: (Inside, he is seething with anger, and also a great deal of anxiety. His mind is already beginning to plot out some new ideas about what he might have to do) The rest of the partners feel the same way as you?
 

KENNICUTT: They do. (Smiles thinly) So in case you were wondering, should my age suddenly catch up with me between now and the beginning of next season, then whoever replaces me as general partner would simply carry out the same directive.
 

ROSS: (flushes red) Arthur, I wasn't implying that, I only-------
 

KENNICUTT: (Softly but full of authority) I know what you were thinking, Elliot. I'll let it pass. Just concentrate on getting Sammy Jordan resigned. (Looks down at folders) You can go now.
 

[Ross awkwardly backs up and then finally leaves the office]
 

Scene Two. Dodgers clubhouse. Sammy Jordan is in front of his locker surrounded by sportswriters. Nearby are several other Dodger players, among them, JOSE MARTINEZ and JIM LEWIS who look on with a mixture of amusement and slight disdain.
 
 
 

1ST WRITER: Were you waiting fastball all the way from Harper?
 

JORDAN: Absolutely. Harper's the best fireballer in the whole National League and he never wants to let himself get beat with his second or third best pitch. I knew he was going to stay with high heat all the way, and I just made sure I connected at the precise instant.
 

2ND WRITER: Still think there's enough time to catch the Giants?
 

JORDAN: Hey, you know what Yogi Berra always said. I'm taking his advice. (Laughter) Okay, that's all guys. Be sure to come up with some appropriate headlines for the columns.
 

[Reporters break up and move away. Jordan reaches into locker to put on sports jacket. Both Martinez and Lewis come up to him]
 

MARTINEZ: Way to go Big Guy.
 

LEWIS: Absolutely.
 

MARTINEZ: You up to a few beers to celebrate?
 

JORDAN: (Grins) Sorry. I got some important company waiting for me outside.
 

LEWIS: (with mock jealousy) Hey, you think you could get her to autograph my copy of the swimsuit issue?
 

JORDAN: Sure. I'll have her write, 'To Jim Lewis and all the other guys on the Dodgers who know they can look all they want but never touch.'
 

MARTINEZ: Just you wait, Big Guy. Someday, one of us is going to end up with a supermodel even sexier than she is, and it'll be your turn to be envious!
 

JORDAN: The day you find a supermodel sexier than Tanya is the day our General Manager-----(Breaks off when he notices Ross enter the clubhouse) Oops. Put that thought on hold for a minute.
 

ROSS: (Beaming) Congratulations, guys. Great comeback win. (Pats Martinez on the shoulder) That was a really good piece of clutch hitting, Jose.
 

MARTINEZ: Thanks, Elliot.
 

ROSS: (comes up to Jordan, who's looking at him with indifference) Sammy, congratulations. Just another beautiful job of showing everyone why you're the best.
 

JORDAN: (with faint disdain) That include you, Elliot?
 
 
 

ROSS: Come on, Sammy. You know how much I think of you. I'm the one who signed you, remember?
 

JORDAN: Yeah, I remember.
 

ROSS: Look, the reason I wanted to catch you is because if you can stop by my office tomorrow, I think we should have a man to man talk about some important things.
 

JORDAN: If it's about a contract, Elliot, I'll only talk to you if Danny Epstein's present.
 

ROSS: (the friendliness fades from his face) Sammy, you don't need to have your agent in the room all the time. Just give me a half hour tomorrow afternoon by yourself. That's all. You can at least give Mr. Kennicutt and me that much.
 

JORDAN: Is Kennicutt going to be there?
 

ROSS: No, but he's very anxious to see us get together some time soon.
 

JORDAN: (Looks at him cautiously) I'll give you fifteen minutes, tomorrow, Elliot. Your office here.
 

ROSS: Thanks, Sammy. I know it should be a productive meeting.
 

JORDAN: Do yourself a favor, Elliot. Don't read anything into this. (He picks up his bag and walks out of the clubhouse leaving Ross feeling just an uneasy as he was in Kennicutt's office)
 

Scene Three. Outside Dodger Stadium, we see Jordan approaching a beaming Tanya White. They meet each other in a brief embrace and kiss.
 

TANYA: I knew you'd do it.
 

JORDAN: All in a day's work. Now what's say we celebrate together?
 

[As they reach his car, they stop when they see under the windshield, a piece of cardboard which has an ugly racial epithet on it. LAY OFF WHITE WOMEN, OVERPAID NIGGER. Tanya's eyes widen in horror at the sight of this while Jordan calmly takes it and is about to tear it up. Then, on further reflection he sticks it into his travel bag.]
 

TANYA: What are you keeping that......trash for?
 

JORDAN: I think I should keep it to make a little point tomorrow.
 

Scene Four. The next afternoon, Ross's office. His office is as large as Kennicutt's, with the chief difference being the large amount of baseball memorabilia that lines the walls and shelves. This includes numerous framed team photos, a framed copy of an old Brooklyn Dodger yearbook, and a case filled with autographed bats and balls. The General Manager is sitting behind his desk, again in shirt sleeves, deep in paper work when his phone rings.
 

ROSS: Yes? (Pause) Okay, send him in. (Gets up as the door opens and a grim faced Jordan enters) Sammy, glad you came. I've been looking forward to this.
 

JORDAN: (His expression still disdainful as he shakes hands and sits down) I'll bet.
 

ROSS: Sammy, I might as well come straight to the point. I admit I've been playing hardball with you as far as a new contract goes ever since the season began, but I want you to know that Mr. Kennicutt and I have had a long talk, and he has made it absolutely clear that he doesn't want a matter of a few dollars to be the difference in terms of what it would take to keep you here for the rest of your career. In short, whatever offer you might end up getting from any other club, will be matched and topped by us. That's a guarantee.
 

JORDAN: Kennicutt told you that?
 

ROSS: He did. He's 86 years old, Sammy. A man his age can't afford to live through long term rebuilding projects, which is basically what we'd have to go through if you left us. He knows that any chance of winning a World Series rests with you and that's why he's anxious to keep you.
 

JORDAN: (Smiles thinly) What about you, Elliot? Do you feel the same way he does?
 

ROSS: Naturally, whatever Mr. Kennicutt thinks is best for the club is something I respect and agree with. (Leans forward) But come on Sammy, you know I've always taken a special interest in you. I was a scout in this organization for 20 years and of all the young people I signed off high school and college campuses, no one had more natural talent than you. I've been watching your career ever since you started in Class A ball for us, and there isn't anything I take more pride in, then the fact that I helped bring you into this organization.
 

JORDAN: Yeah, that's right, Elliot. You've spent ten years reminding me of that at every turn. I've always been the biggest feather in your cap when it comes to your record with the Dodger organization. (Shakes his head) And Elliot, much as I know that I have to always be grateful to you for getting my career started, the fact is, I've reached a point where after ten years with the Dodgers, I want to spread my wings somewhere else. Preferably in New York.
 

ROSS: Come on, Sammy. Do you really want to put up with the New York media? And the New York fans? If you think the fans who phone in to the sports talk shows here are tough, wait until you get subjected to scrutiny by the WFAN regulars.
 

JORDAN: Actually, that kind of pressure is something I thrive under, Elliot. That's the kind of pressure that motivates me to do better, and above all explains why the Yankees, and not the Dodgers have been winning all the championships the last ten years. You've surrounded this team with players who couldn't possibly get us to a championship.
 

ROSS: That's where you're wrong, Sammy. With you here as our centerpiece for the next ten years, we can get all kinds of players to thrive better with you in the lineup.
 

JORDAN: And even if I agreed with you, Elliot, I think what it all comes down to is the fact that I really don't want to play for you any longer. You've been that kind of dominating pseudo-father figure throughout my whole career and that's just what I don't need any longer. I need the freedom to start somewhere else with a clean slate. (He then pulls a piece of cardboard out of his coat pocket and tosses it on to Ross's desk) Plus, there's the matter of this. Tanya and I found it stuck under my windshield yesterday.
 

ROSS: (Looking down at it in distaste). Come on, Sammy, you can't condemn a whole city just because some racist puts this under your windshield.
 

JORDAN: Can't I? You know, every time the tabloids run pictures of Tanya and me, I get at least another two dozen of these kinds of things. If it isn't messages stuck under my windshield, it's hate mail and all other kinds of crap. And most of it's because this whole city is so haunted by O.J. Simpson that they go nuts when they see a famous black athlete dating a beautiful white woman.
 

ROSS: Sammy, I really think you're exaggerating. And even if this were a major problem it wouldn't go away if you left LA.
 

JORDAN: I'm not so sure of that. Maybe in a new locale, the fresh start would be enough to make that kind of crap go away for good. (Shakes his head) But even if I didn't have these anonymous racists to deal with, I'd probably just up and leave anyway to get out from under your thumb, Elliot. It's just time for me to move on.
 

ROSS: (expression hardens) I'm sorry to hear you say that, Sammy. I would have thought that loyalty to an organization that's been good to you all these years might have counted for something in your eyes, so long as we were willing to match any contract offer you got elsewhere. I can see I erred in that judgment.
 

JORDAN: Well, I guess there's a lot you never figured out right about me, Elliot. At any rate, I want you to know that I have no intention of publicly revealing my plans until after the season, and if you so much as repeat a word of this conversation to anyone else, I'm not only going to deny it, I'm also going to have some choice words for you that I don't think would make you look good with Mr. Kennicutt as far as your job security goes. (Ross glares at him angrily as he rises from his chair) In the meantime, Elliot, I've got batting practice in an hour and a game to play tonight. See you around.
 

[As soon as the door closes, we zoom in on Ross, whose expression is hardened, angry and bitter. He looks down at a piece of paper where he's jotted several items. One, is "General Manager-$500,000." Below that is "Scout-$50,000" and "Minor League Operations-$100,000." The figures represent what he is earning now as General Manager and what he earned in his previous jobs. He already knows that his days as general manager are all but numbered now that Sammy Jordan has said he has no intention of staying. And that means he faces demotion to positions that can never let him maintain the lifestyle he's been enjoying the last four years as GM, as well as the excitement he thrives on in the high power world of sports management. He warily rubs his head, wondering what he's going to do. Then, his eyes trail back down to the piece of cardboard Jordan had thrown down on his desk. He picks it up and the germ of an idea begins to form in his mind.]
 

Scene Five. Three weeks later. The inside bedroom of Jordan's spacious house. He is lying in bed with an anxious air. A moment later, Tanya enters wearing only a skimpy white lace teddy. She does a graceful pirouette as though she is walking down the runway of a fashion show.
 

TANYA: (Smiling) You approve?
 

JORDAN: I certainly do. My compliments to the Victoria Secret company again.
 

TANYA: (Crawling onto the bed, and leaning on top of him, her voice a sultry whisper) I knew this would help take the sting out of the team getting eliminated from the pennant race today.
 

JORDAN: In more ways then one.
 

[They kiss passionately and embrace. Then seconds later, through the open bedroom window, the sound of a loud explosion fills the air. They both bolt up from their bed and look out the window]
 

JORDAN: (Bolting out of bed) What the hell?
 

Scene Six. An hour later, a subdued Jordan, dressed in shirt and slacks, is giving a statement to police detective LIEUTENANT BAKER while two officers are outside the house searching. A shaken Tanya, wearing a bathrobe, is sitting nearby, trembling visibly.
 

BAKER: It happened about an hour ago, you say?
 

JORDAN: Yes. We didn't see or hear anything until the explosion happened.
 

BAKER: I see. Okay, as far as we can tell, it was a pretty big cherry bomb placed inside the mailbox. Took it apart completely and singed the grass, but no other damage as far as we can tell.
 

JORDAN: Is there any chance you can find out who might have put it there?
 

BAKER: It's not going to be easy, Mr. Jordan. In this neighborhood there are few houses that are bunched together in close proximity so just about anyone could place a bomb in the mailbox and not be noticed. I really doubt we'll find anyone who saw or heard anything, especially since whoever did it, clearly didn't drive up and place it in the mailbox. If he had, you certainly should have heard the car driving up before the explosion.
 

JORDAN: So in other words, there's nothing you can do.
 

BAKER: Not unless we find a witness, Mr. Jordan. (One of the police officers then enters the house)
 

OFFICER-Lieutenant, we found this on the driveway. (Hands Baker a piece of cardboard with bold printing on it. Baker looks at it and winces slightly)
 

BAKER: Mr. Jordan, have you ever received threatening notes like this before? (Hands note to Jordan)
 

JORDAN: (Looks at it and his expression grows more dark and severe). "Lay off white woman, you overpaid nigger or else." (Shakes his head in disgust) This is the first time I've ever gotten something like this that implies a threat.
 

BAKER: And I guess we have to assume that whoever wrote that note also planted the cherry bomb and meant it as a warning. I think maybe, Mr. Jordan, that for the next couple days I should provide some police protection around your house.
 

JORDAN: (suddenly bristles) You're not going to do any such thing! Now you do what you have to do to find out who planted the bomb, but I am not going to have the damned LAPD watching my every move and watching my house all the time. That's final.
 

TANYA: (reaches out and grabs his arm) Darling, maybe-----
 

JORDAN: (pushes her aside) So in the meantime, Lieutenant, if you're through as far as gathering evidence goes, then kindly leave now!
 

BAKER: (Slightly dubious) If that's how you want it, Mr. Jordan, we can't do otherwise. If we find out anything more, we'll be in touch. (Motions to Officer, and they exit)
 

TANYA: (Throwing her arms around him) Oh God, Sammy--what if this means......
 

JORDAN: (Holds her tenderly and speaks reassuringly) It's okay, baby. It's okay. Just take it easy.
 

TANYA: How can I, when there might be some racist psychopath who might go even further then just your mailbox?
 

JORDAN: (looks at her matter of factly) And what good would it do to make a big deal about this? Publicity is exactly what that kind of trash wants. I'm not going to give whoever it is the satisfaction of knowing that they can make me start living in fear, or that I have to suddenly be made a prisoner in my house with constant police protection. (Touches her chin) Hey. Take it easy. Nothing's going to happen. (He kisses her gently. Within a minute, Tanya is relaxed, and they walk back to bed, holding each other's hands)
 

Scene Seven. The basement of Ross's home. Across a large table we see a number of open textbooks, along with packages of chemicals, and a large open package sized box. As we pan across the table, we can see in addition to the chemicals, a crude trigger device so that it becomes all too clear that what we are seeing is the construction of a homemade mail bomb. A pan across to the other side of the basement shows Ross busily studying his computer where he has been consulting sites that relate to the properties of small bombs. For the last three weeks, he has meticulously consulted every text book and web site that can provide clues as to how a mail bomb package can be put together. The biggest help is an open book dealing with the infamous Unabomber case that lies next to his keyboard. We see him go back to the table where he performs a test on the trigger device. It works perfectly and is now set to work whenever the top of the package is open. Satisfied with this, Ross goes back to his computer and again consults the readouts regarding the explosive power of mail bombs. After another thirty seconds of consultation, he then picks up a tape player and presses the play button. The clear sound of a doorbell chime now fills the room. He has visited Sammy Jordan's house before and knows that the sound of his doorbell is identical to the one in his own house so he has made a recording of his own bell. This will become a critical part of his overall plan.
 

The suspenseful music continues as we see Ross put his homemade bomb into the package, which is heavily padded with bubble wrap to keep it in place. The trigger device is attached to it, and he then calmly seals the package shut and affixes a typed label with Sammy's address in block letters on the front, and then in the upper left corner, places another typed label that reads: "Major League Collectibles, 1343 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10019." Once these are in place, everything is ready. The package looks flawless, bearing none of the telltale signs that warning manuals say about potentially suspicious packages. He sets it down and calmly picks up his phone.
 

ROSS: Yes, the number of Major League Collectibles in New York, please. (Pause as he sits down in front of his computer). Thank you. (He dials and waits) Hello, this is Mr. Ross of the Dodgers. I'd like to speak to Mr. Halper. (Pause) Barry? Elliot Ross. Look, I'm calling to check back again about that set of Jackie Robinson items I was interested in. (Pause) You have them? Great. How much for them? $5000 for a dozen signed photos and six autographed balls.....one with the whole 55 Dodger team. Sounds perfect. Yeah, charge that to my account. No, not to my address, this is actually a special gift for someone else. Send the package to Sammy Jordan. Yeah. Yeah, it is kind of a preemptive goodwill offer to him, but don't breathe a word of that to anyone. You got his address on file? Okay, great. I really appreciate that. If he can get that within the next few days that would really mean a lot to me. And just between us, Barry, if this ends up helping as far as the contract talks go, you'll get a good deal of the credit for it. Thanks. Bye. (Hangs up)
 

Scene Eight. Two nights later. We see Ross, dressed in dark sports jacket, turtleneck, thin leather gloves and slacks driving into the empty parking lot of a deserted church. The church parking lot borders a thick clump of trees that is a veritable miniature forest of sorts. He calmly gets out of the car holding the package under his arm and gingerly makes his way through the trees until he emerges in the backyard of a house that he knows belongs to Sammy Jordan. Quietly, he moves to the side of the lawn at the furthest angle from the house and reaches the driveway where he drops down to a crouching position as he makes his way past the car belonging to Tanya, which is parked at the top. Then, he sprints down the driveway to the bush that stands next to the destroyed mailbox and crouches beside them, so he can't be seen from the house. He is watching and waiting for Tanya to depart, because he has no intention of letting there be two victims. After several minutes of waiting, he sees the front door open and Tanya and Sammy sharing one last kiss before she heads down the walkway to her car at the top of the driveway. He keeps himself crouched beside the bush as he watches the car start up and pull out of the driveway. He lowers himself as far as he can go as Tanya's car goes by on the other side of the bush and pulls into the street. As soon as it his disappeared down the street, he gets to his feet and gently places the package underneath the foliage and makes his way up the sloping lawn to the front door. He calmly rings the bell. Jordan arrives an instant later, wearing only gym shorts and no shirt, thinking it would be Tanya returning. His eyes widen in disbelief when he sees Ross standing there.
 

JORDAN: What the hell are you doing here, Elliot?
 

ROSS: I'm sorry I've dropped in unannounced, Sammy. But I really didn't think I had any other choice since you haven't been returning my calls.
 

JORDAN: (starts to close the door) Talk to Danny Epstein if you want. I'm not talking to you again.
 

ROSS: (Sticks his foot in the door) Damn it, Sammy, for old times sake will you just give me one last chance to try and change your mind? After tonight, if I haven't been able to convince you, then you won't ever have to hear from me again. I swear it.
 

JORDAN: (Still slightly suspicious) All right. I'll give you just ten minutes, and that's it.
 

ROSS: Hey, at the very least, it'll make an amusing story for you to call the beat reporters about, won't it? (He enters the foyer and stops to look in admiration at several items of rare baseball memorabilia that lie on the handsome oak table) Besides, Sammy, you know how much I love to admire your collection. (Bends closer to look at a medium sized brick resting on a mount).

My God, the actual cornerstone brick from Ebbets Field. That is amazing.
 

JORDAN: Got a nice deal on that from Barry Halper and Major League Collectibles.
 

ROSS: Lucky you beat me to the punch on that, Sammy. That's something I know I wish I had in my office.
 

JORDAN: Well, from what I remember, you've got a pretty good collection yourself.
 

ROSS: (shakes his head) I'm just a rank amateur compared to what you've been able to put together, Sammy. (Looks up and smiles) Of course, you can afford to put together a more fascinating collection than I ever could.
 

JORDAN: (Smiles slightly but is still suspicious) Elliot, can you come to the point?
 

ROSS: (sighs) Sammy, I know I haven't done a good job of making you feel comfortable on the team the last couple years ever since I became GM. Maybe it's true that I left behind some of those nice guy qualities I had when I was a scout. But Sammy, I want you to know that I'm willing to just stay out of your way completely if you were to stay with the Dodgers. From now on, the only people you'd ever have to feel were watching you would be Steve Shaw and Kennicutt himself. And be honest, you like the both of them and have never had a problem with either one of them.
 

JORDAN: Steve's a good manager. I admit that. I like playing for him. As for Kennicutt, I've only met him twice. A nice enough guy, but-----
 

ROSS: Who thinks the world of you, Sammy. Think about it, if you and I were to ever have any kind of possible conflict, you can be darn certain that Kennicutt wouldn't hesitate to overrule me just to keep you happy. That's how much he's determined to see you stay a Dodger.
 

JORDAN: (sighs) So in effect, you've come here to offer me that kind of carte blanche where I in effect become the Owner's boy etc. etc.?
 

ROSS: I wouldn't want to put it like that, Sammy, but if I'm the reason why you've become determined to leave the team, then I just want you to know I'm willing to take myself out of the equation.
 

JORDAN: (walks over to the chair and sits down. Still amazed by all this). That's.....a very tempting offer you're giving me, Elliot. And I have to admit, I appreciate where you come from. But.....(Shakes his head) if I took an offer like that, it would really validate what everyone says about me. That I'm too selfish, that I look out only for myself, that I'm not a team player. That I'm more interested in special treatment. And that kind of offer you're giving me amounts to glorified special treatment that would make every other player on the roster hate my guts more than ever. (Looks away) I think that if I'm to become the kind of player who can really help a team win a championship, I have to do it in some new surroundings with a clean slate and a fresh start.
 

ROSS: So that's what it comes down to Sammy? The desire for a fresh start? The racist hate mail isn't a problem any more?
 

JORDAN: That's never really been part of the problem, Elliot. That's only been a bit of a nuisance I can brush off. Though that damned cherry bomb in my mailbox the other day came from out of left field.
 

ROSS: (Surprised) Cherry bomb? Good Lord, is that what happened to your mailbox? I was wondering why it wasn't there any more.
 

JORDAN: Yeah, really spooked Tanya and me. Police couldn't find anyone who saw who put it there, but then again since this whole street keeps the houses so isolated from each other you hardly ever notice if anyone's down at the bottom of the driveways.
 

ROSS: Why didn't you tell me or anyone else about this? And how come it hasn't been reported?
 

JORDAN: What's the point? Some kook with a bigoted mind who's probably just jealous because Tanya is going steady with someone. You'd be amazed at how many fans of supermodels can go off the deep end once they get publicly linked to someone. I figured it wasn't worth it. (Sighs) But like I said Elliot, I don't need an incident like that to convince me it's just time to move on. People have good times working in one place in the country then there comes a time when they just feel they have to move on to new challenges. That's what it's come down to. A part of me will always consider myself a Dodger and I'll probably go into the Hall of Fame with a Dodger hat when all is said and done, but I really feel I've got to see what else is out there.
 

ROSS: Sammy, could you at least see the contract proposal Arthur and I drew up? Maybe if you saw it in writing, you'd think different.
 

JORDAN: I'll look at it, but I really don't see how it can change things, Elliot.
 

ROSS: (reaches into coat pocket then frowns) Oh for.....of all the stupid things, I left it in my car. Give me a couple minutes and I'll be back.
 

JORDAN: Sure.
 

ROSS: And do you think maybe you could grab a Coke for me? I really could use one.
 

JORDAN: No problem. (Gets up)
 

[Ross goes out the front door and hurriedly goes down the lawn to the bushes where he retrieves the package. He then makes his way back up equally quick and gingerly sets it down in front of the door. Then, he quickly opens the screen door and closes the front door behind him, just as Jordan emerges from the kitchen carrying a can of Coke.]
 

JORDAN: Here you go (hands it to him)
 

ROSS: (Sitting down as he takes a sip) Thanks. (Pulls out the contract) Here's what it comes down to. The base salary is $15 million for the next ten years, but I think it's the perks and incentives we've loaded in it that you should find more interesting.
 

[Jordan takes the contract and begins to read. As he begins to skim the contract, Ross's eyes wander over to the baseball memorabilia on the table again. Their close proximity to the front door has him slightly bothered]
 

ROSS: (rising) Sammy, you mind if I take another close look at that cornerstone?
 

JORDAN: (Not looking up as he reads) Be my guest.
 

[Ross makes his way over and picks it up from the mount. He goes back to his chair and sits down, holding the brick with a sense of deep awe]
 

ROSS: This is really special. I think of all the baseball memorabilia there is, there's nothing more fascinating then something from a ballpark that doesn't exist anymore.
 

JORDAN: (Still perusing the contract) Yeah, I agree. Downstairs, I've got a whole row of chairs from the Polo Grounds and the Old Yankee Stadium.
 

ROSS: (Rises. Still holding the brick) Mind if I use your can?
 

JORDAN: Down the hall to your left.
 

[Ross makes his way toward the hallway and places the brick in his left jacket pocket. He has reached the incline leading to the left and has begun to pull another object from his right jacket pocket]
 

JORDAN: Elliot!
 

ROSS: (Stops in midstream and turns around) Yes?
 

JORDAN: What's this clause about a weekly TV show?
 

ROSS: Oh, just a little variation of what most of the NFL star players get. They always have some kind of weekly review show. We think it's high time a star baseball player get that kind of extra media exposure.
 

JORDAN: Hmmm. Actually, I think most of those shows tend to get ripped apart by the beat writers as self-serving.
 

ROSS: You don't have to do it, it's just that if you wanted one, we'd make sure you get it.
 

[Ross now moves down the hallway and pulls from his right jacket pocket, his tape player. He calmly presses the button and the clear sound of a doorbell chime fills the house]
 

JORDAN: Of all the-----who else is showing up?
 

ROSS (from down hall as he sticks tape player back in his pocket)-I don't know, Sammy.
 

[Jordan opens front door and looks down. He frowns at the sight of a package and picks it up and enters the house]
 

ROSS: (from down hall) Who is it?
 

JORDAN: No one there. But someone left a package. Damned strange.
 

ROSS (From down hall, still out of sight)-Who's it from?
 

JORDAN: Major League Collectibles. But I haven't ordered anything from them for a month.
 

ROSS: Well, I've got a confession to make Sammy, that's probably the stuff I ordered from them and asked to send to you. A lot of Jackie Robinson memorabilia that I thought you'd find interesting.
 

JORDAN: Robinson stuff? You're kidding.
 

ROSS: No, it's all there. Why don't you open it up and you'll see a whole batch of autographed balls and photos. Those aren't easy to come by, believe me.
 

JORDAN: No, they sure aren't. Well, that was real nice of you, Elliot.
 

[Ross moves as far as he can down the hallway and backs up against the wall. And then, several seconds later, the sound of a violent explosion fills the front hallway. The hall mirror next to Ross falls off it's mounting and shatters. He is knocked off his feet and falls on the broken glass, tearing his leather gloves and leaving cuts on his knees. When the explosion dies down, he gets to his feet and hurries to the front. He sees Sammy Jordan lying on his back, his face and chest lacerated horribly to the point where he is barely recognizable. The entire front foyer of the house is a shambles. Blackened debris lines the area, and the table where the rest of the memorabilia lay is shattered. Ross catches his breath and quickly comes over to Jordan to take his pulse. He feels nothing. The crude bomb has done it's job and been sufficient to kill Jordan. Satisfied, he moves hurriedly toward the back of the house, then stops as he remembers the cornerstone brick he had placed in his pocket to keep safe from destruction in the blast. He gently sets it down on the floor next to the shattered table. Already he can hear the sounds of distant commotion from outside the front door, where the explosion has clearly aroused the attention of neighbors. He knows he has to move fast. He dashes to the back of the house, opens the back door and descends the patio deck to the back lawn which faces the dense area of trees he'd come through earlier. It takes him three minutes to get through the dark foliage and into his car in the deserted church parking lot. He starts it up and hurriedly drives away]
 

Scene Nine. Ross in his basement, as he burns every last item pertaining to the construction of the bombs. This includes the remaining amounts of chemicals, and all the textbooks and books he consulted for the project. Then, he goes to his computer and deletes every file he had saved pertaining to the bomb as well as all bookmarked websites on the Internet. When he is through, he leans back and lets out a sigh of total exhilaration and relief.
 

Scene Ten. In front of Jordan's house, there is a frenzy of activity. Several police cars are parked alongside the curb while several officers line the driveway. Cut inside, we see Lieutenant Baker shaking his head grimly.
 

BAKER: God Almighty. That damned fool and his stubborn pride. (Turns to first officer) Pinpointed the source of the explosion?
 

FIRST OFFICER: Not yet, sir.
 

BAKER: Keep looking.
 

[As Baker studies the wrecked area of the outer foyer, we pull back and see COLUMBO stick his head inside the open front door. His hair has never looked more disheveled. His eyes, lined red from lack of sleep. He has thrown his raincoat on over his suitcoat and pants, but a closer look shows that underneath his suit, he is still wearing a red pajama top instead of a shirt. As he enters, Baker looks over and frowns.]
 

BAKER: Columbo? What are you doing here?
 

COLUMBO: (Rubs his head to try and get his unkempt hair not to stand on end and then rubs his eyes) That you, Baker?
 

BAKER: Yeah, it's me. Columbo, I'm in charge of this case. What are you doing here?
 

COLUMBO: (Tiredly rubs his eyes again) I've been asking myself that for the last hour, Baker. Middle of the night, I finally get myself off to sleep, and then bang, I get a call from the Captain and he tells me to get out here immediately. Didn't give me any explanation why it had to be me, just told me to take two minutes to......(stops as his eyes wander down and he sees he didn't change into a shirt) Oh geez. (Instinctively he buttons up his raincoat to conceal his pajama top)
 

BAKER: Columbo, I think it had to be some kind of mistake. Why don't you go back home and get some sleep, I can handle things from here.
 

COLUMBO: No, there wasn't a mistake, and I think unless I get a directive from the Captain, I'd better stay here.
 

BAKER: (Clearly peeved. He has never cared for Columbo or his methods and the last thing he wants is to see him). Just a minute, Columbo. Let me check this out. (He disappears to the back of the house to use the phone).
 

[Columbo yawns and looks down at the bloody, disfigured body of Sammy Jordan. He promptly averts his eyes in disgust and steps toward the hallway]
 

COLUMBO: There a bathroom nearby?
 

SECOND OFFICER: Down the hall to the left, Lieutenant.
 

[Columbo walks down the hallway toward the bathroom, and stops as he notices the shattered wall mirror fragments lining the floor. Before he reaches the area where the fragments lie, he stops and frowns slightly. He then rubs his eyes again to focus better on the scene. Then he gets down to his knees and looks over the area more intently]
 

COLUMBO: Officer! (The second officer responds and comes up behind him)
 

SECOND OFFICER: Yes, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Has anyone been back here?
 

SECOND OFFICER: No, Lieutenant. No one's been back there since we got here.
 

COLUMBO: And was anyone else at home at the time besides the deceased?
 

SECOND OFFICER: No sir. His girlfriend had left about five to ten minutes before it happened.

COLUMBO: (Gets to his feet and turns around) Officer, get a rope cordoned around this area. I want a closer look at all this broken glass. Is there another bathroom I can use?
 

SECOND OFFICER: (Motions) Ah....I think on the other side back by the kitchen.
 

COLUMBO: Thanks. Make sure no one disturbs that glass.
 

SECOND OFFICER: Yes sir.
 

[Columbo moves off toward the other side of the house and as he reaches the kitchen area, he runs into a clearly disgruntled Baker.]
 

BAKER: Well Columbo, it seems you're right. The Captain's assigned you to head up this case personally, so I guess it's me that needs to go home and get some sleep. (Starts to walk away)
 

COLUMBO: (Running after him) Wait a minute! Baker, come on, I need your help. I don't even know who the victim is.
 

BAKER: (Turns around, surprised) They didn't tell you?
 

COLUMBO: No.
 

BAKER: Our victim is Sammy Jordan.
 

COLUMBO: (Clearly stunned by this news) You're kidding me, aren't you?
 

BAKER: No Columbo. It's him all right.
 

COLUMBO: (Shakes his head in disbelief as he comes back into the foyer and looks down at the body) Geez, that's incredible. Just the other day, Mrs. Columbo and I went to the game and saw him play. All those rumors about him leaving the Dodgers after this year, we wanted to see him in a Dodger uniform one more time. He was her favorite player. (Shakes his head again) I hadn't seen any player with that kind of natural talent since Joe D. himself. (Looks back at Baker, who has been tempted to tell Columbo to shut up but has thought better of it). How'd this happen?
 

BAKER: Still waiting to find out where the explosion originated.
 

COLUMBO: Well it's all confined to this area, right?
 

BAKER: Yes.
 

COLUMBO: There are no electrical appliances or any other devices that could just blow up accidentally?
 

BAKER: Not as far as we can tell.
 

THIRD OFFICER-Lieutenant, I think we've found the source. (They come over to him and look down) Looks like it was a mail bomb inside a package.
 

BAKER: (Shakes his head again) That damned fool.
 

COLUMBO: Howzzat?
 

BAKER: I warned him about how he needed police protection, but he refused. Didn't want any after some racist put a cherry bomb in his mailbox the other day.
 

COLUMBO: (Eyes widen) Someone bombed his mailbox?
 

BAKER: Yes, Columbo. We were out here the other day to do the report on it. They left some racist note too and implied some kind of threat because his girlfriend is the white supermodel.
 

COLUMBO: Boy. (Rubs his head wearily) Oh boy, that's all we need in this town. A racist hate killing to deal with. God, this is going to be one nightmare of a case. (Stops and frowns again) Funny though.
 

BAKER: (Still finding it distasteful that Columbo is handling a case of this magnitude). What is?
 

COLUMBO: We're absolutely sure that he was alone at the time of this explosion?
 

BAKER: Positive. We have the girlfriend's statement. She's really in hysterics, but she confirmed she left him alone more than five to ten minutes before this happened. We've also got the statements of about a dozen neighbors who heard the explosion.
 

COLUMBO: And they didn't see anyone suspicious in the area before it happened?
 

BAKER: They say no.
 

COLUMBO: Did they hear a car or something like that?
 

BAKER: They also say no.
 

COLUMBO: (Shakes his head again) Did the girlfriend say whether or not there was already some kind of package here at the time?
 

BAKER: (Freezes slightly, as he realizes he'd overlooked that detail) Ah....we'll have to follow that up with her. We really didn't question her too much over the phone, in light of the circumstances.
 

COLUMBO: Give me her number and address. I'll check that out later.
 

[Just then, the grim and determined CAPTAIN FRAZIER, the immediate superior to both Columbo and Baker, enters the doorway]
 

FRAZIER: Columbo, Baker.
 

COLUMBO: Oh hello, sir.
 

FRAZIER: What have you found out?
 

COLUMBO: I'm afraid everything is quite preliminary at this point, sir, but....according to the officers, it looks like a mail bomb.
 

FRAZIER: Damn. That really means we're dealing with a potential crisis. Columbo, since you're officially in charge of this, I need you to come with me. There are some important people you need to talk to before you go any further with this investigation.
 

COLUMBO: I understand, sir.
 

FRAZIER: We'll take my car and get going.
 

BAKER: Captain!
 

FRAZIER: (Turns around) Yes, Baker?
 

BAKER: Could I just have a word with you alone for a minute?
 

FRAZIER: All right, but make it quick. Columbo, you wait in my car.
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir. Ah, no wait before I do that, I've really got to pay a visit to the bathroom first. (Heads back toward the bathroom near the kitchen. Frazier moves over to Baker)
 

FRAZIER: Okay, Baker, what is it?
 

BAKER: Captain, I really don't want to be in the position of questioning a superior's decision, but do you really think a man like Columbo should be in charge of an investigation like this?
 

FRAZIER: (Expression darkens) Look, Baker, whatever you think of Columbo, he's still the best in the whole Homicide Division when it comes to high-profile cases.
 

BAKER: I know all about his reputation, Captain, but we're dealing with something that could lead to another Rodney King riot if this isn't handled properly!
 

FRAZIER: Baker, you might as well drop it, because the order to put Columbo on this came from the Chief himself. It seems that a certain interested party in this investigation who knows the Chief well, asked that Columbo be personally assigned to the case.
 

BAKER: (Stunned) Who?
 

FRAZIER: That's none of your business, Lieutenant. You just keep gathering some information and give your full preliminary to Columbo when he gets back here later. (Sees Columbo emerge. He's thrown some water on his face and matted his hair slightly, but looks only slightly better than before). You set, Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I'm ready.
 

FRAZIER: Let's go then. And Baker--(Looks him in the eye) You remember everything I just said. (They depart)
 

BAKER: (Counting to ten inside to keep from exploding) Yes sir.
 

Scene Eleven. Dodger Stadium. Still overnight. Columbo and Frazier are in the Press Elevator taking them to the VIP level.
 

COLUMBO: Boy, this is something. I've been coming to Dodger games since they opened the place in '62 and never seen this part of the ballpark.
 

FRAZIER: Try to keep your idle remarks to a minimum, Columbo.
 

COLUMBO: Sorry sir. I just....well you know it's a habit of mine to say things like that out loud.
 

FRAZIER: I know. (Elevator doors open and they move down walkway where a number of office doors line the corridor). It's just that this thing is potentially more serious than just one man getting murdered, Columbo. That's why I'm going to have to insist you try to rein in some of your usual habits.
 

[They reach the door to Kennicutt's office. Frazier opens it and they enter. A grim faced Kennicutt is seated behind his desk, while to one side is Ross, who has now changed into a dark suit, and to the other is badly shaken Dodger manager STEVE SHAW.]
 

FRAZIER: Lieutenant Columbo, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Steve Shaw, the manager of the Dodgers, Mr. Elliot Ross, the general manager, and the principal owner, Mr. Arthur Kennicutt. Gentlemen, Lieutenant Columbo is from the Homicide Division and as per your request, Mr. Kennicutt, will be heading up the investigation into Mr. Jordan's murder.
 

COLUMBO: (Eyes widen as he recognizes Kennicutt, who rises from his chair) Mr. Kennicutt. That's right, I'd forgotten, you bought the Dodgers last year.
 

KENNICUTT: (Reaches over and shakes Columbo's hand) Lieutenant, I'm sorry that we had to meet again as a result of your professional capacity.I'd always hoped it would be under more pleasant circumstances.
 

COLUMBO: (Nods) Yes sir, so did I. I want you to know that my wife and I really appreciate those Christmas cards you keep sending us every year. They mean a lot to us.
 

KENNICUTT: I'm glad of that. (Sits down again. Ross is staring dubiously at the sight of Columbo and that he could be on such seemingly intimate speaking terms with a man as powerful as Kennicutt).
 

ROSS: You and the Lieutenant know each other, Arthur?
 

KENNICUTT: (Clearly not anxious to go into the details) The Lieutenant performed a service for me many years ago, for which I've been indebted to him ever since. It's because of my past relationship with Lieutenant Columbo, that I know he's the best man in the Homicide Division to head up this investigation. That's why I asked for him to be assigned to the case.
 

[Columbo looks up slightly in amazement as he sits down. Shaw and Ross still seem slightly dubious, behind their expressions of shock and grief]
 

KENNICUTT: Lieutenant, what does it look like at this point? I understand you can't have enough time to have developed the evidence fully, but is it pointing in any particular direction.
 

COLUMBO: (Leans forward) Well sir--(Stops to rub his eyes) Ah, Mr. Kennicutt, I'm sorry, I got called out of bed and I'm still trying to shake the sleep out. Do you have some coffee I could have?
 

KENNICUTT: Ah yes, as a matter of fact I do. (Motions to Shaw) Steve, can you get the Lieutenant a cup?
 

[Shaw seems to resent the idea, but gets up and goes over to the side of the office to pour a cup]
 

COLUMBO: Anyway, all we know at this point is that Mr. Jordan was killed by a mail bomb. We've found signs that an explosive device was put in some kind of package that detonated when he opened it.
 

KENNICUTT: Has anyone claimed responsibility for sending this?
 

COLUMBO: No sir, not yet. (Shaw hands him a full cup of coffee which Columbo gratefully takes) Thank you. (Takes a sip) Ah, where was--oh yes. So far, there's no sign of any note left with the package or anything claiming credit for this. Which.....I have to admit is a little strange because when we're dealing with a mail bomb, the usual modus operandi is for a note to be sent or a phone call to be made taking credit for something like that. Ah.....there's been no phone call from anyone claiming credit to you, Mr. Kennicutt?
 

KENNICUTT: (Shakes head) No. Not a word.
 

COLUMBO: Mr. Ross? Mr. Shaw?
 

SHAW: Lieutenant, I never heard a thing.
 

ROSS: Neither did I.
 

COLUMBO: Okay, nothing since the bombing. What about anything before the bombing? Did any of you know about any threats being made against Mr. Jordan?
 

SHAW: Well, Sammy had been getting a bunch of anonymous notes from racist bigots, because of his relationship with Tanya, but I never thought it could get to something like this!
 

COLUMBO: (Makes a note) Tanya. That's Tanya White, right?
 

SHAW: Yes.
 

COLUMBO: What kind of notes were these?
 

ROSS: The usual trash Lieutenant. As a matter of fact, when I met Sammy three weeks ago, he left me one of them.
 

COLUMBO: Have you got it?
 

ROSS: Yes. (Pulls it out and hands it to Columbo. He looks at it and shakes his head in disgust) I'm afraid after all this time with Sammy handling it and me handling it, it's probably worthless as far as dusting for prints goes.
 

COLUMBO: (Puts the note in his coat pocket) No, that's understandable, Mr. Ross. You certainly couldn't have anticipated anything like this. And obviously Mr. Jordan didn't either, or he certainly would have been more careful about handling a strange package on his doorstep left at night.
 

KENNICUTT: You're sure this was left this evening, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, his girlfriend, Miss White, pretty much confirms that from what I've heard. She left the house about five to ten minutes before the explosion took place, and she didn't mention seeing a package on the step then. And this couldn't have been something that Mr. Jordan had in the house all afternoon, because when people get packages, they open them right away, they don't leave them lying around for hours.
 

ROSS: (His expression grows more grave) So whoever left the package must have been watching the house to make sure Tanya was gone before he left it on his doorstep.
 

COLUMBO: Yes, that's what it looks like, sir. (Turns to Shaw). Ah, Mr. Shaw, I think just as a matter of taking care of some preliminaries, can you tell me how Mr. Jordan got along with other members of the team, or whether or not there were any difficulties he had with teammates or people who follow the team.......
 

SHAW: (Bristling with anger) Just what the hell is that supposed to mean, Lieutenant? You'd actually think that someone on the team would---
 

KENNICUTT: (Interrupting coldly) Steve, answer the question and don't get hostile with the Lieutenant. It's perfectly normal procedure and he has to check out every potential possibility and eliminate them accordingly. (Columbo glances back at the owner, looking thankful for understanding)
 

SHAW: (Chastened slightly but still angry inside) Sammy had his problems with a few teammates. But it was the usual thing that happens when you have a superstar on your team with a big attitude about his own greatness, and a few players will resent that. But none of the players who disliked him had any racial reasons, Lieutenant, hell two of the players who hated his guts, Joe Simpson our third baseman and Bobby Mitchell our closer, they're both black!
 

COLUMBO: And no one on the team ever made any ugly remarks about his relationship with Miss White?
 

SHAW: No, Lieutenant. They all envied him. Hell, that was one thing everyone would tease him about, and he was always big enough to take it in stride. Believe me, Lieutenant, if the motive for killing Sammy is racist as it seems to be, then you can eliminate any one on the team and any player in all of baseball for that matter.
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, you're probably right about that, but if any of our men need to ask some questions of the other players on the team about Mr. Jordan, I have to insist that they give us their full cooperation.
 

KENNICUTT: You don't have to worry about that, Lieutenant. Anyone who doesn't cooperate with your investigation is going to do so at the risk of disciplinary action from me. That's a guarantee. This murder of Sammy is the blackest day in all of baseball history, Lieutenant, especially when we're talking about someone with a Hall Of Fame career struck down in his prime. Sammy meant a lot to this team and the fans, and I'm not going to let anyone in this organization stonewall when it comes to providing information you might need.
 

COLUMBO: I appreciate that, Mr. Kennicutt. Your cooperation should help us a great deal, and we'll do what we can to keep you informed about any developments.
 

FRAZIER: Mr. Kennicutt, I might add that in return we're going to have to ask for the ultimate in discretion in terms of how you and your men handle any news we pass on to you. If this is a racial killing, then this city is sitting on its biggest time bomb since the whole Rodney King mess, and the last thing we need is to see angry crowds in the street seeking vengeance and causing riots.
 

KENNICUTT: (Nods) I understand, Captain. As of now, Mr. Ross and Mr. Shaw will be the only other people in the Dodger organization who I feel should be kept appraised of developments. (Looks at them) They can be counted on to maintain confidentiality on all matters. (The phone rings. Kennicutt answers it) Yes? (Pause) Yes, he's here. Just a minute. (Hands phone) It's for you Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: (Takes phone) Hello? Oh yes, Baker. Anything new? (Pause) I see. Yeah, that's interesting. No, I'll be returning to the scene within an hour or so. I'll probably have another talk with Miss White first though. No, the body can go now but I want another chance to give a full evaluation of the scene. Right. Bye. (Hands the phone back to Kennicutt who hangs it up)
 

FRAZIER: Anything promising, Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: No, I wouldn't say promising, Captain. But.....something did turn up that kind of makes the whole thing seem a little strange.
 

KENNICUTT: How so, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Well.....the presence of a mail bomb, that exploded after Miss White left the house means that Mr. Jordan had to have been home alone at the time the whole thing happened......But there's something that seems to suggest that someone else was in the house when the bomb went off.
 

ROSS: (Frowning. And trying not to reveal any sign of the alarm bell that's just gone off inside him) Someone else?
 

COLUMBO: Yes. Ah, have any of you ever been to Mr. Jordan's house before?
 

KENNICUTT: I haven't. I'm sure that both Elliot and Steve have. (They nod)
 

COLUMBO: Well, you know how in the front of the house, the foyer leads to a hallway that goes off to the left, back toward a bathroom?
 

SHAW: Yes.
 

COLUMBO: And at the end of the hallway, there's a big kind of wall mirror?
 

ROSS: Yeah, I know the one.
 

COLUMBO: Well the force of the explosion jarred the mirror loose and it completely shattered on the floor. There's just a ton of broken glass all over the hallway.
 

KENNICUTT: How does that indicate someone else was there, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: It has to do with the glass. Some of it's been crushed into an almost kind of powdery substance. And that could only have happened if someone had stepped on the glass and his shoes had crushed it underneath.
 

KENNICUTT: And it couldn't have been Sammy who did that.
 

COLUMBO: No sir. Mr. Jordan was killed instantly and this spot of the house is more than twenty feet and a hard left turn away from his body.
 

SHAW: So maybe the killer was in the house at the time the bomb went off, would that be it?
 

COLUMBO: Well, that would have to be the only possible explanation, but that would leave us with a problem of how did he get into the house? And why even go into the house if your method of killing is a package bomb? It's just one of those little things that doesn't make much sense.
 

KENNICUTT: Lieutenant, if you think it has any possible significance on the case then by all means, stick to it. (Rises) I think we shouldn't keep you any longer. Lieutenant, again, I appreciate your heading up this case, and I hope we can get this resolved soon by bringing the killer to justice.
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, I hope you're right. Usually trying to find out who the killer was when it's a mail bomb is never easy. It took years to finally nab the Unabomber after all.
 

KENNICUTT: I'm sure you're up to the challenge, Lieutenant. Believe me, I've been following your career over the years, and I know that sooner or later you should be able to find out where the source of this ghastly crime is. (Shakes hands with Columbo, and then Columbo and Frazier depart. As soon as the door closes, a weary Shaw rises from his chair).
 

SHAW: Arthur, is there any other reason for me to stay here?
 

KENNICUTT: No. You can go, Steve. Just be here this morning at ten for the press conference we have to give.
 

SHAW: I will. And Arthur, I'd like you to do me one favor. I really do not want to be in the loop as far as the investigation goes. This whole thing.....(shakes his head and tries to fight off tears) This is the worst tragedy of my life. I----me and all the players, we're......going to need a long time to get over this. I know I won't be able to get over this if I don't take some time to get away from this whole mess after the funeral.
 

KENNICUTT: (With sympathy) I understand. You don't have to worry about that, Steve. Elliot and I can handle all matters pertaining to the investigation. As soon as the funeral's over, you can take a long vacation if you like.
 

SHAW: (Weakly) Thanks. Ah (he is rapidly losing control of his emotions and wants to get out before he breaks down completely) I'll see you later this morning. (He lets out a sob as he hastily exits. When the door closes, Kennicutt sits back in his chair and lets out a long, slow sad exhale)
 

KENNICUTT: God. (Shakes his head) God, what a tragic waste.
 

ROSS: I know. And that Captain was right. This thing could really cause the town to explode if the racist bastard who did this isn't caught.
 

KENNICUTT: Hopefully this whole thing will be solved before it comes to that.
 

ROSS: (shakes his head) I don't know. You think that can happen if a guy like that lieutenant.....what was his name?
 

KENNICUTT: Columbo.
 

ROSS: You think this Columbo could handle an investigation like this? That guy looks like he walked out of an undercover detail in a skid-row section. Why did you ask for him personally?
 

KENNICUTT: (Not looking at him, growing slightly testy) I told you, Elliot. I know about Columbo and his methods. He's the best in the Homicide Division.
 

ROSS: How do you know that? Arthur, I don't like to second-guess a decision of yours, but what makes you think he can handle a case as serious as this?
 

KENNICUTT: (Turns around in his chair to face him, his expression taut and angry) If you're so determined to know the answer to that, then kindly turn around and take a look at what you see. (Ross turns around and sees the portrait hanging on the wall next to the door) What do you see, Elliot?
 

ROSS: (Awkwardly) Um.....the painting?
 

KENNICUTT: Yes, but what about the painting? Have you ever wondered who that is?
 

ROSS: (Feeling more embarrassed) Your wife?
 

KENNICUTT: Yes. (Looks down at the desk as an air of sadness comes over him) It's Lenore. The greatest joy of my life, and the greatest tragedy. (Sighs heavily) I lost her twenty five years ago. She was murdered. And Columbo, God bless him, he was the one who solved her murder. If he hadn't done that, I would have lost all reason to keep living as far as I'm concerned.
 

ROSS: (His embarrassment deepens) Um....Arthur, I'll take your word for it that Columbo's a pro who knows his job, but.....
 

KENNICUTT: (The sadness on his face evaporates and the taut anger returns) But am I letting my personal regard for Columbo interfere with sound judgment as to who should head up a case like this, is that what you were about to say, Elliot?
 

ROSS: No, Arthur, I ah-------
 

KENNICUTT: (Sighs) Never mind. I suppose I should explain the whole thing to make you understand why it's not just a matter of my personal gratitude that made me insist that Columbo be assigned to the case. (Looks at him) I've seen the man and his methods up close. He's brilliant. Brilliant beyond description. That rumpled exterior of his is the greatest decoy I've ever seen when it comes to getting the measure of how his mind really works. I saw that firsthand when he trapped Lenore's killer. And believe me, Elliot, his mind hasn't dulled a bit in all the years since. If you don't believe me, I suggest you go down to the library some time and look up the information on some pretty notorious figures like Nelson Hayward who almost won a Senate election after he'd killed his campaign manager, or that actress, what was her name (snaps his fingers), Nora Chandler. That'll give you some insight into what Columbo's done since he nabbed the bastard who killed Lenore. And maybe then you'll understand why he's the only man who could solve this case quickly.
 

ROSS: (Looking impressed, but inside he is feeling very nervous, bordering on ill). I.....think I can take your word for it in that case, Arthur. I'm sorry I had to bring that up.
 

KENNICUTT: (waves his hand) Oh, don't worry about it. (Leans back) I think I might as well just get a few hours sleep here at the office before we have the press conference this morning.
 

ROSS: I'll be there, Arthur. (Heads for the door)
 

KENNICUTT: Elliot!
 

ROSS: (Turns around) Yes, Arthur?
 

KENNICUTT: At the risk of indulging in some black humor, I suppose it's occurred to you that with Sammy dead, my little ultimatum to you is no longer relevant.
 

ROSS: (Expression hardens) Arthur, I haven't given that a bit of thought since you phoned me about Sammy, and I resent the implication that I'd ever be that selfish.
 

KENNICUTT: Elliot, you disappoint me. If you're not man enough to admit that the realization did pop into your head at least once during the last few hours-----
 

ROSS: (Growing alarmed inside) I don't mean that, I mean it's not weighed heavily on my mind, that's all!
 

KENNICUTT: (Half smiles) That's more like it. Honesty is something I admire most in an employee. (Turns around in chair) Good night, Elliot.
 

[Feeling as though he just dodged a frightening bullet that would have made his plot all for nothing, Ross warily leaves]
 

Scene Twelve. Tanya White's Home. Columbo is seated across from her. She is very distraught and upset, her hair disheveled, wearing a robe. She does not look much like the glamorous supermodel.
 

COLUMBO: Miss White, I'm sorry to have to put you through this, but it's important I get this information now before we can proceed more fully with the investigation.
 

TANYA: (Wiping tears away) I understand, Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: I'm sorry I had to meet you under these circumstances. I've known your face for a long time.
 

TANYA: (Glances at him oddly) You mean, you have a chance to read swimsuit issues and lingerie catalogues often, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: (Lightly chuckles) Well.....in a way. You see, I got a son who's in college now and he....well he's like a lot of boys who buy those kind of things because they develop crushes on the supermodels once they hit their, ah.....adolescence. He always considered you his favorite. I know that because when my wife and I were cleaning out some of his things he didn't take with him to college, we......well we found two Victoria Secret catalogues and the last five years worth of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue stashed away in a drawer, which I think had you on the cover three times.
 

TANYA: Yes.
 

COLUMBO: My wife and I, we had a bit of a fight actually over whether we should have confronted him directly about it, but in the end, I won the argument that it was just a natural part of him growing up and that we shouldn't say anything about it. Anyway, I guess that kind of thing in your business goes with the territory. It must get kind of tiresome after awhile.
 

TANYA: Actually Lieutenant, I'm the kind of woman who revels in the fact that there are plenty of young men like your son who feel that way about me. There's nothing that boosts a model's self-esteem more if that's going on, and it means that I'm doing my job well and can keep it up for as long as I want.
 

COLUMBO: Well, if you feel good about your work, Miss White, that's all that counts. Anyway, sorry I went off on that tangent. I promise you this won't take long.
 

TANYA: Thank you. I'm.....kind of alternating right now between a sense of delayed shock and hysteria. I don't know how long it'll be before I-----(shudders as she trails off then snaps back to attention) Go ahead, Lieutenant. I'm ready.
 

COLUMBO: I first need to verify once again that there was no unopened package in the house when you left Mr. Jordan's home. You're absolutely sure of that.
 

TANYA: Yes, Lieutenant. (Chokes back another sob). Sammy wasn't expecting any package, and he didn't have one lying around the house when I was there.
 

COLUMBO: Okay. And when you left the house, you didn't notice anyone who might have been hiding or watching the house?
 

TANYA: No. No one
 

COLUMBO: Okay. (Makes note). Ah, let's see....what else.......Oh. Yeah. Miss White, have you ever met any of the other players on the Dodgers, and the people in the front office?
 

TANYA: (Shakes head and sniffs) No. Not often. Only a few times. Sammy....he, he really didn't want me to meet the other players that much, because he didn't want to make it look like he was flaunting me in front of his teammates, and he also didn't want me to hear the kinds of idle jokes he said they were prone to make.
 

COLUMBO: Now when you say idle jokes, do you mean anything of a racial nature?
 

TANYA: No. God no. Sammy said there was never any problem like that with the teammates. It was just.......the usual kind of envious taunting you might have expected.
 

COLUMBO: I see. What about the people in the management? What did Mr. Jordan think about people like.....well, like the manager Mr. Shaw?
 

TANYA: He liked Steve. Thought he was the best manager he'd ever played for.
 

COLUMBO: What about the owner, Mr. Kennicutt?
 

TANYA: He.....really didn't have too much of an opinion of him. Nothing negative, it's just that he only met him once or twice since Kennicutt bought the team.
 

COLUMBO: And the general manager, Mr. Ross?
 

[Tanya's expression darkens]
 

COLUMBO: Miss White?
 

TANYA: (Takes a breath) I probably shouldn't say this, Lieutenant, but that bastard Ross was literally driving him out of Los Angeles for good.
 

COLUMBO: (piqued) What do you mean by that?
 

TANYA: I......can this stay confidential for now?
 

COLUMBO: For now, yes.
 

TANYA: Well.....Sammy had already made up his mind to leave the Dodgers and sign with another team, probably the Yankees. He just didn't want to play for Elliot Ross any longer.
 

COLUMBO: Why's that, miss?
 

TANYA: He and Elliot.....they've had kind of a falling out ever since Elliot became General Manager. They used to be quite close. When Elliot was a scout, he was the one who signed Sammy to a contract out of high school, and Elliot did a lot to build up Sammy's career in the minor leagues and when he first reached the Dodgers. But once Elliot became GM under the old owners, that's when......well that's when Sammy felt that Elliot had suddenly changed. Now he was becoming more patronizing, more difficult to deal with, trying to play hardball too much when it came to salary. Sammy always said how much it hurt to see that kind of change come over a man he once regarded as a father figure in a positive sense. Now, it seemed like Elliot had become the kind of father figure that you just want to rebel against. That's why Sammy decided it was best he leave the Dodgers and start anew somewhere else.
 

COLUMBO: And his mind was already made up on that?
 

TANYA: Yes.
 

COLUMBO: He reiterated that to you, tonight when you were at his house?
 

TANYA: (Sniffs and lowers her head) Yes.
 

COLUMBO: (Makes note) Okay, just one more thing and I'll be done with you, Miss White. This cherry bombing of the mailbox that happened the other day. Was that the first time anything like that had ever happened?
 

TANYA: Well....that depends on what you mean, Lieutenant. It wasn't the first time some racist left an ugly message with us, but it is the first time someone went so far as to do something violent like that. Before, everything was just hate mail or ugly notes stuck under the car windshield.
 

COLUMBO: You mean when the cherrybomb happened, there was also a racist note with the bomb?
 

TANYA: Yes. Yes, whoever did it left it on the driveway next to the mailbox.
 

COLUMBO: Do you remember what it said? Exactly?
 

TANYA: (Hesitates) Yes, it was....."Lay off white women, you overpaid nigger." Something ugly like that.
 

COLUMBO: Do you remember what happened to that note?
 

TANYA: Sammy tore it up, when he told the Lieutenant who came over to the house that he didn't want police protection and he didn't want to make himself look like someone who was scared. He just wanted to put it behind him, since he figured that it wasn't long before he'd be out of the area for good.
 

COLUMBO: I see. (Rises) One more thing. Is there an alarm system in the house? Something to guard against intruders?
 

TANYA: Yes. Yes, there is. I don't remember how it worked precisely, but he had it connected to the back door, because he always felt that was a more likely place for an intruder to enter. Sammy's house it.....borders kind of a pretty thick group of trees out back. He figured the front door was less likely because you have to go up the big hill to get to it.
 

COLUMBO: Okay. (Sticks notebook pack in coat pocket) Miss White, thank you for your time. I promise you, we won't contact you again for a few days until you've had a chance to recover from this. Again, my condolences to you.
 

TANYA: Thank you. (She chokes back another sob, and then as Columbo starts to leave, she calls after) Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: (turns around) Yes, Miss White?
 

TANYA: Lieutenant, I only want to add that it probably seems to someone like you that Sammy and I had the kind of high-profile celebrity relationship where the only thing that mattered between us was sex. I just want to say that it wasn't like that at all. Sammy and I had an understanding that eventually we'd both get married and maybe even have a family, but at the moment the time just wasn't right because of both our careers.
 

COLUMBO: Miss White, it's not my place to judge your relationship with Mr. Jordan. That was between you and him. My job is to find out who did this, and put him away.
 

TANYA: And I appreciate that, Lieutenant. It's just that.....I needed to say that to someone right now. You see......my relationship with Sammy did have its negative side. My mother, who never liked the fact that I became a model, practically disowned me because of it, and Sammy's parents in Chicago didn't look favorably on it either, which is why he never let me meet them. They couldn't understand that it was possible for me and him to have a relationship that meant something more than just publicity and cheap thrills.
 

COLUMBO: A lot of people can be like that, Miss White. But the bottom line is if you and Mr. Jordan were happy together, that's all that counted.
 

Scene Thirteen. Back at Sammy Jordan's home. The body has now been removed but the crime scene remains otherwise undisturbed. Early dawn is now breaking as Columbo enters, this time having stopped back at home to get his shirt and tie on. Baker is still at the scene with several officers.
 

COLUMBO: Anything new?
 

BAKER: As a matter of fact, we just got something interesting that might explain why none of the neighbors didn't see or hear anyone before the explosion. The bomber came up through the backyard and around the house to the front.
 

COLUMBO: Through those trees out back? (Moves through the foyer to the other side of the house. The dining room window looks out back on the trees bordering the back yard).
 

BAKER: (Following) Yes. Beyond those trees is the parking lot of the Free Methodist Church. Apparently, there was a car parked there that made a high speed exit from the parking lot not long after the explosion. We got a statement from the church caretaker who lives not far from there, and had walked back to retrieve a couple of items. As he was leaving the church, he saw this car zooming out at high speed and thought that was odd, because no one should have needed to use that parking lot for any reason.
 

COLUMBO: How long was it after the explosion?
 

BAKER: No more than five to ten minutes. The caretaker was inside the church and only remembered hearing a muffled thud from his vantage point inside, so he didn't give it any thought. But when he heard the sound of the car, that was what got his attention.
 

COLUMBO: Any description of the car? Color? License plate?
 

BAKER: (Shakes head) Nothing. Too dark to make out anything. All he could say is that it was a medium-sized to big car, definitely not a compact one. Nothing on the driver either.
 

COLUMBO: What direction did the car go after it left the parking lot?
 

BAKER: It made a left turn out, that's all he could say. From out there leads to about a dozen different residential neighborhoods. It'd be next to impossible to pinpoint where it went from there without questioning just about everyone in the entire area.
 

COLUMBO: We'll go public with that info later today and maybe someone will come forward and give us some help on that. Chances are, whoever was in that car is our bomber. (Moves back toward the foyer, then stops and looks up the cordoned off hallway) Anything more from there?
 

BAKER: Yes, Columbo. Your hunch about someone being in the hallway was right. We found tiny traces of blood on the floor next to the broken and crushed glass. Unfortunately the traces are way too small to run any kind of DNA scan. We also found this. (Hands Columbo a sealed plastic package. Inside are small pieces of leather).
 

COLUMBO: (Holding it up to light and looking at it intently) Looks like....tiny pieces of leather. (Lowers it and looks at Baker) From a pair of gloves maybe?
 

BAKER: (Nods) That'd be my guess. So that means we can forget about finding our bomber's fingerprints anywhere in the house.
 

COLUMBO: Agreed. (Looks at the back door again) There's an alarm system connected to the back door isn't there?
 

BAKER: Yes. It's still active and there's no sign of break in through the back though.
 

COLUMBO: But if you open the door from the inside, it doesn't go off, does it?
 

BAKER: No. It doesn't.
 

COLUMBO: Then if the bomber was in the house, he could have gone out the back. (Stops and rubs his head in befuddlement) But how did the bomber get inside the house, and why would he come inside the house?
 

BAKER: That's a good question, Columbo. It has me totally stumped as well.
 

COLUMBO: We're never going to come up with a solution that makes sense until we answer that question. (Comes back to the foyer and looks down) What's this here?
 

BAKER: Smashed remains of a Coke can. It must have been lying on the table next to that chair when the bomb went off.
 

COLUMBO: (Kneels and inspects floor) Still wet. That means the can was still partly full then. (Gets up and looks about at the wrecked furniture lining the foyer. Two easy chairs, two tables, and behind that the burnt remains of the table where the memorabilia lay. Columbo's expression grows more intense then he turns back to face Baker) Did your men find any kind of note on the driveway or lawn, boasting about the crime? Some kind of racist note or thing like that?
 

BAKER: Not a thing, Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: If this is the same guy who cherrybombed the mailbox the other night, and he left a note then, then why doesn't he leave a note now?
 

BAKER: Well, that part's easy. Since the note was aimed at Jordan, then why leave a note when you expect to kill him?
 

COLUMBO: True. That must be it. Baker, I think I've seen enough. Make sure all this evidence is photographed and marked carefully, and make sure that Sergeant Clay down at Parker Center gets copies of all this. I'll be bringing him onboard in the investigation.
 

BAKER: (The unease he feels over Columbo heading this investigation now returns, but he bites his tongue) Yes, Columbo. I'll do that.
 

[Columbo departs]
 

Scene Fourteen. Dodger Stadium press room. Shaw is at the microphones, flanked by Kennicutt and Ross. There is a large crowd of reporters.
 

SHAW: All I can say is, all of us who knew Sammy, are shocked beyond measure by this tragedy. It's something you don't expect to see happen in baseball when you're in the prime of your career. Players are supposed to grow old in their 30s and then retire and come back for years afterward to Old Timers games. That's why when something like this happens, your only reaction can be shock, and wondering why something like this has to happen. (Takes a breath) I know I will miss him greatly. He was not only the best natural player I ever saw, but he was also a wonderful human being. And that's what we should be grieving more for, not simply the loss of a great player as Sammy was, but the loss of a great man. (Steps away and Ross is now at the microphones)
 

ROSS: I can only echo what Steve has said, and what Mr. Kennicutt has said. I knew Sammy longer than anyone in the Dodger organization. I remember when I first saw him playing high school ball and saw a young man blessed with so much raw, natural talent that I knew he was ready for the big time even when he was just 18. Watching him grow up through the system, and finally reaching the Dodgers was the greatest joy of my life. And now that he's gone, I.....still don't know what to say. Like Steve, I will remember him as a fine man and a fine player, whose loss we should all mourn deeply. That's all. (The three of them walk off, amidst the shouts of reporters. Ross is halfway off then stops and turns around) Ladies and gentlemen, I really think that this not the time to throw questions at us. Save that for after the funeral, after there's been a dignified period of mourning for a fine man. (He then walks off, the reporters still shouting).
 

[Ross, Shaw and Kennicutt enter the safe isolation of the adjacent corridor]
 

KENNICUTT: Steve and I are going out to meet Sammy's parents who are coming in from Chicago. For now, I think it's best you stay here to stay on top of the police investigation, Elliot.
 

ROSS: (Nods) I'll do that, Arthur.
 

Scene Fifteen. Ross enters his office and is mildly surprised to see Columbo seated in front of his desk, smoking a cigar and going through his notebook.
 

ROSS: Hello Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: (Looks up) Oh, hello Mr. Ross. I was hoping you'd come by, I saw that Mr. Kennicutt was going to be out for most of the day. (Looks over at his office wall) Got to tell you, I really love all those old photos on the wall, especially that Brooklyn Dodger yearbook. I actually recognize that one. I know I had one of those once, cuz I used to go to about......I think it was 30 games a season at Yankee Stadium, The Polo Grounds and Ebbets Field.
 

ROSS: I'm glad you're impressed, Lieutenant. You're an old Brooklyn Dodger fan then?
 

COLUMBO: (Smiles) Got to be honest, I was a Yankee fan then. That's because the Yankees had all the great Italian players, like Phil Rizzuto, Tony Lazzeri and of course Joe D. himself. But, I really admired a lot of the Brooklyn players like Gil Hodges and Campanella and those guys. (Looks at the yearbook wistfully) That was a great time to be a baseball fan, growing up in New York in those days. There's never been a time like that since. All the great Subway Series between the Dodgers and the Yankees. The 51 pennant race and Bobby Thomson hitting that homer off Branca. (Looks back at Ross) Kind of funny though. I moved out here in 58, the same year the Dodgers came out to LA. Even though they weren't my team back in New York, having them out here really helped me get through the first years of adjustment to living in LA.
 

ROSS: (Smiles. Impressed by Columbo's love for the history of the game) Lieutenant, I'm glad to know you appreciate those wonderful days gone by, but I take it there's another reason why you're here? Has there been a major break in the case?
 

COLUMBO: (Sits down) I wouldn't say that, sir.
 

ROSS: (Frowning slightly) Well.....then shouldn't you be downtown?
 

COLUMBO: I got my assistant, Sergeant Clay, working downtown. Real good man, I think he'll probably end up a captain some day. Anyway, he's checking out all the hate groups in the area that might have had a racist motive to make this attack on Mr. Jordan, but.......I have to be honest, this case isn't shaping up the way I thought it might.
 

ROSS: (Goes behind his desk and sits down) How so, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Well......There's absolutely no doubt that whoever put this bomb together was an amateur of the first order. Someone who probably didn't have any experience with this kind of bomb before.
 

ROSS: (Folds his hands together as he leans back in his chair) Why do you say that, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Well, ah---- (fumbles in his pocket) Gotta match? (Ross tosses a pack at him and Columbo lights his cigar). Well you see, the chemical composition of the bomb shows that it was the kind that someone would have put together if he was doing this for the first time. These chemicals were the kind you could probably get in any drug store or some other over the counter place. Professionals would never get their stuff from places like this. They'd use the kind of stuff that you'd steal from a science lab or something like that, the kind that's more inaccessible to the general public.
 

ROSS: But clearly whoever this was can't be too much of an amateur if the bomb was strong enough to kill Sammy. I would think a total amateur wouldn't be able to come up with one strong enough to do the job. Isn't that way a lot of amateur bombs can end up just maiming someone instead of killing them?
 

COLUMBO: No, not necessarily true Mr. Ross. Sometimes a first-timer can make it strong enough to do the job, and sometimes even a professional like the Unabomber won't succeed in killing his target, which is what happened with a couple of his victims.
 

ROSS: Okay. But amateur or professional, what difference does it make?
 

COLUMBO: (Rubs his head) Well an amateur I think, means we can rule out well-known hate groups like the KKK. Groups like that would never hire an amateur for the job, they'd definitely go with a professional because they can usually afford a professional.
 

ROSS: So, the more likely suspect would be a small scale hate group, or maybe a lone nut racist trying to make his point all by himself.
 

COLUMBO: That's what it would seem to be, and yet-----(shakes his head) There's that nagging problem of why the bomber was in the house when it happened, and how did he get in there to begin with?
 

ROSS: (Keeping his expression even) Is that something you're convinced of, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I'm convinced of that. We have crushed glass from the mirror and we also have trace blood stains on the floor. Someone was there at the time the bomb went off, and it has to be the killer. If it wasn't the killer, then why would that person have left the scene and not contacted us?
 

ROSS: Okay, then if he was in the house, why is that a nagging problem?
 

COLUMBO: How did he get in? He couldn't have come in through the back, because that would have tripped the alarm system. There are no windows disturbed so he couldn't come in that way.
 

ROSS: Then he must have come in through the front.
 

COLUMBO: (Nods and holds up his finger) That's exactly what I figured, sir. But then, you have to ask yourself, how could he have gotten in through the front without Mr. Jordan seeing him? You see the problem?
 

ROSS: (Thoughtfully) Hmm. Yes, I think I do. (Shrugs) Then, I guess the only explanation is that the killer arrived with his package, then rang the door, and then Sammy must have let him in.
 

COLUMBO: Let him in.
 

ROSS: Yeah.
 

COLUMBO: But why would he do that, Mr. Ross? If the killer is this guy hired by a racist group to plant this bomb, or if he's a lone racist trying to make a statement, then he has to be a total stranger to Mr. Jordan. Why would Mr. Jordan open the door and let someone like that in?
 

ROSS: I have no idea, Lieutenant. (Shrugs) Or maybe Sammy never saw him. Maybe....(looks up at the ceiling) Maybe the way it happened, is that the killer leaves the package on the front step, and goes in because the front door wasn't locked after Tanya left the house. So he let himself in and Sammy never saw him.
 

COLUMBO: But why would he go in? For what reason does he need to be in the house when the bomb goes off?
 

ROSS: Well, I guess it goes back to your point about him being an amateur, Lieutenant. He's not sure the bomb is going to do the job, so he's kind of lying in wait, maybe with a gun or something to finish the job in case the blast doesn't kill Sammy.....(trails off) No. No, that can't be it, because if he's got a gun and can gain access inside the house, then why go to the trouble of a bomb when he could have just shot him.
 

COLUMBO: Exactly. You're real sharp, Mr. Ross.
 

ROSS: Okay, then we have to go back to the premise that Sammy let the killer in. Maybe....(snaps his fingers) Lieutenant, it seems that the old Sherlock Holmes axiom about the simplest solution being the correct one has escaped us. This mail bomb was a package, right?
 

COLUMBO: Right.
 

ROSS: Then the answer is simple. The killer was disguised as a delivery man. Probably was wearing one of those UPS type outfits. He rings the door, Sammy opens it. He delivers the package, and then when he turns it over, the killer asks Sammy if he can use his bathroom, and Sammy says yes. That hallway you say the killer was in is near the bathroom, right?
 

COLUMBO: Yeah. (Face lights up) Mr. Ross, that's brilliant. I think you've figured out how it must have been. That certainly fits with the evidence. The only remaining problem would be that Mr. Jordan so willingly opened a package presented to him, so that would mean he had to have been expecting some kind of package at the time.
 

ROSS: (A look of horror comes over his face) Oh my God.
 

COLUMBO: What is it?
 

ROSS: Oh my God, Lieutenant if that's true, then.....oh God! (Lowers his head)
 

COLUMBO: (Concerned) Mr. Ross?
 

ROSS: Lieutenant, Sammy was expecting a package. A package that I arranged to have sent to him.
 

COLUMBO: That you arranged, Mr. Ross?
 

ROSS: Yes. I.....God, a few days ago I made arrangements with a company that deals in baseball memorabilia to send a package to Sammy with some stuff I knew he was interested in having. It should have arrived about now.
 

COLUMBO: (takes out cigar) What was in this package, Mr. Ross?
 

ROSS: Well....it was some Jackie Robinson memorabilia. Some autographed photos and some autographed baseballs. Those aren't easy to come by since Robinson died in 72. And Sammy's a proud black American who reveres Robinson for what he did for blacks in baseball.
 

COLUMBO: And Mr. Jordan knew about this package he was going to receive?
 

ROSS: I did get a chance to tell him that he could expect it soon.
 

COLUMBO: Why did you do this for him, Mr. Ross? My understanding from Miss White is that you and Mr. Jordan haven't been on the best of terms of late.
 

ROSS: (Sighs) That's true. We've....kind of been at each other's throats the last few years ever since I became General Manager. And things really got ugly between us during the negotiations for a new contract. (Leans forward) I think you're aware of the rumors, Lieutenant, that Sammy was thinking of leaving the Dodgers now that his contract had expired and any team could sign him for the right price.
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I'm aware of those rumors. That's why my wife and I went to the last game of the season a few days ago, because we knew we might not see him in a Dodger uniform again.
 

ROSS: Yeah, that's been weighing heavily on the organization. And Arthur was naturally pushing me hard to do what I could to resign him, and I figured that sending Sammy this package of memorabilia would be kind of a peace offering of sorts. A way to break the ground and make him feel more open to the possibility of coming back.
 

COLUMBO: I see. (Makes a note) What's the name of this memorabilia company you ordered the stuff from?
 

ROSS: Major League Collectibles in New York. My secretary can give you the phone number of Barry Halper, he's the one who heads the company.
 

COLUMBO: Thanks. I'll get that from her.
 

ROSS: (Shakes his head again) But what this comes back to, Lieutenant is that it could well be my fault that Sammy wasn't careful with that package because he was expecting this one from Major League Collectibles. I mean.....when people get packages they're not expecting, they're more naturally suspicious aren't they?
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, usually they are. And if Mr. Jordan was aware of this package you had ordered for him, then that would explain why he easily accepted it from the killer if he was posing as a delivery man and got into the house that way. But, I wouldn't trouble yourself too much about that Mr. Ross. (Rises) I really think that even though our killer was an amateur, he was determined to kill his target. (He stops and looks Ross dead on in the face. The General Manager is staring back, with an air of slight befuddlement, and then shakes his head as though snapping out of a trance)
 

ROSS: Ah....well yes. We certainly are dealing with some kind of lunatic. And I hope that when we talk again, Lieutenant you've found the break in the case that pinpoints who this person was, and not just how he got in the house and was able to pull this off.
 

COLUMBO: I'm sure you'll be the first to know when I find out who our killer is, Mr. Ross. (Smiles.) Good day.
 

ROSS: (Feeling a sense of unease growing inside him) Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: (Turns around) Yes, Mr. Ross?
 

ROSS: Ah, Lieutenant, there was something I meant to ask you when I had a chance to see you alone. I'm.....a little curious about how you and Arthur crossed paths before?
 

COLUMBO: Oh, Mr. Kennicutt? He didn't tell you?
 

ROSS: Well, he did say that you solved the murder of his wife, but nothing more than that. The reason I'm curious, Lieutenant, is that Arthur is a very private person who I've never heard talk about his wife once. In fact until last night, I never even knew what her name was, though I always guessed that he worshiped her memory. Especially since he's never remarried and keeps that big painting of her in his office.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, I saw that. That's a really lovely portrait. Yeah, Mr. Kennicutt really loved his wife. That's why he pushed me a good deal on the investigation when I got assigned to it.
 

ROSS: Who killed her, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Well....it's kind of a complicated story. You see, Mr. Kennicutt once hired this private investigator to tail her, because he suspected his wife was having an affair with a golf pro. Then the investigator after awhile called Mr. Kennicutt in, and said his wife had a clean bill of health. Wasn't cheating on him and that satisfied Mr. Kennicutt and he left. But the investigator was lying. Mrs. Kennicutt did have an affair with the golf pro, but had developed a guilt complex about the whole thing and called it off. The reason the investigator didn't tell Mr. Kennicutt the truth though, was because he wanted to use that information as leverage to blackmail Mrs. Kennicutt.
 

ROSS: Good Lord.
 

COLUMBO: But Mrs. Kennicutt, decided that she wasn't going to give in to that. She figured that she would be better off confessing her sin to her husband since she loved him and wanted the marriage to work, and that her husband would likely forgive her. And she also vowed that she could get her husband to destroy the investigator's reputation because of his blackmail attempt.
 

ROSS: So that's when the investigator killed her to keep her from talking.
 

COLUMBO: (Rubs his head) Well....he did kill her. But it wasn't a premeditated crime. He flew into a rage when Mrs. Kennicutt told him she wasn't going with the scheme, and when she tried to get away, he struck her across the face and she ended up falling and striking her head on a glass table that killed her instantly.
 

ROSS: (winces) That's horrible.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah. And the investigator, he then tries to cover it up, and moves the body all the way across town to make it look like maybe she was killed in a mugging attempt. The irony is that if he'd come forward and admitted it was an accident, he might have gotten off with nothing higher than involuntary manslaughter and only a few years jail time. Because of the cover-up though, he ended up getting the maximum possible, fifteen years for second degree murder.
 

ROSS: I see. So that means the killer's now out of prison?
 

COLUMBO: Last I heard, he was. I don't know what happened to him after he got released. I think he figured if he knew what was good for him, he'd get as far away from where Mr. Kennicutt is now, since naturally Mr. Kennicutt didn't like the fact that his wife's killer couldn't serve any more time then the sentence mandated.
 

ROSS: I see. And you and Arthur have stayed in touch ever since?
 

COLUMBO: Well, we never met each other again until last night. But Mr. Kennicutt's always been kind enough to send my wife and me a Christmas card each year, and naturally we send one back to him. Just showing his gratitude and we let him know how much we appreciate that.
 

ROSS: I can see then why Arthur was so anxious to have you put in charge of this investigation. Although based on what you said, it's not a similar case at all.
 

COLUMBO: (Takes another puff on his cigar) Well, there are obvious differences. This crime for certain is premeditated, that's the big difference. And yet.....I kind of get the feeling that maybe there's one part about this case that has something in common with the Kennicutt one.
 

ROSS: Such as?
 

COLUMBO: I think it has something to do with the killer's mindset. The investigator flew into a rage and ended up killing Mrs. Kennicutt and covering it up because he was desperate. Knew he'd lose his money, prestige and privileges if he told the truth about what had happened so he had to cover up. I kind of think that maybe, one reason why our killer in this case felt motivated to act was the same feeling of desperation.
 

ROSS: (Frowns) How so, Lieutenant? How do you equate simple racist hatred with a feeling of desperation?
 

COLUMBO: (Shrugs) I dunno. Maybe there is no connection in the end, but if there is (holds up a finger) then I think that's the key similarity between the two cases.
 

ROSS: Well, that's all very interesting Lieutenant. I hope when we see each other again, there'll be more promising news.
 

COLUMBO: (Smiles) Like I said, Mr. Ross, when an arrest seems imminent, you'll be among the first to know. (Turns and walks out)
 

[The door closes, and instantly Ross feels a sense of nervous, sick dread come over him. Every instinct tells him that Columbo has been toying with him, and that he has already developed a suspicion about him. Now, he realizes he needs to anticipate everything Columbo might come up with in his investigation, and stay one step ahead of him until things die down and he can consider himself home free. He promptly gets up and leaves the office, determined to go out and do some important research]
 

Scene Sixteen. Parker Center in Captain Frazier's office. Seated to one side of Frazier's desk is the stern looking, REVEREND CALVIN ROBERTS, a prominent local civil rights activist. The door opens and Columbo enters, minus his raincoat, which he'd been warned ahead of time not to wear during any meetings with his superior.
 

FRAZIER: Columbo, glad you're here. You know Reverend Roberts of the local Civil Rights for America chapter.
 

COLUMBO: Ah yes sir, I've seen the reverend on the news a few times. (Comes over to shake hands. Roberts handshake is firm, but his expression remains anything but friendly).
 

FRAZIER: I told Reverend Roberts that given his organization's interest in the investigation, you'd be agreeable to giving him a full update on how things stand.
 

COLUMBO: (Sits down and puts hand to forehead) Ah, well yes. I think I understand why your group's interested in this investigation, Reverend, but-----
 

ROBERTS: (With dismay) You think, Lieutenant? We're talking about the murder of the most prominent black athlete in America by a racist organization, and you only think you understand why we're interested in knowing how this is going?
 

COLUMBO: (Apologetically) Sir, I didn't mean any disrespect, but what I meant was.......there are really at this point a lot of doubts in my mind as to whether this can be considered a racist killing.
 

FRAZIER: Why's that, Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: Well....I've just had a talk with my assistant, Sergeant Clay. I asked him to check out every potential white supremacist group or other hate organization that might have had a reason to do this. I also had him check out the profiles of some known criminals who've been in jail for racist crimes. I gotta tell you, at this point none of these groups or people look like reasonable suspects.
 

ROBERTS: Why not, Lieutenant? You know that Sammy was getting all kinds of hate mail and other harassment because of his relationship with Miss White.
 

COLUMBO: Yes sir, I'm aware of that. I have no doubt that before this incident, Mr. Jordan was the target of some racists with those notes and hate letters. But as to this mail bomb......I'm sorry there are just too many things that don't add up if this is a racist group or an individual racist.
 

ROBERTS: And just what is it that doesn't 'add up', Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, how come there wasn't any racist note left at the scene boasting about the crime? I mean in the past, we've seen the pattern of leaving racist notes under the windshield, and then even with the cherry bombing of the mailbox, there was a note left. Why not now? If the motive is racist, then why not broadcast that fact?
 

ROBERTS: I would think the bombing itself is enough of a broadcast, Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, there's more. At this point, I think there's a very good probability that Mr. Jordan knew who the killer was. I really can't go into further details on that at this point, but if this theory that Mr. Jordan knew his killer is correct, then I'm looking at the possibility that someone close to Mr. Jordan, who had a reason for wanting to kill him, was trying to just make it look like this was the work of a racist hate group. It's possible that this killer who had another reason for doing it, also set up the cherry bomb incident to try and make the racist scenario even more plausible.
 

ROBERTS: If I granted your premise that Sammy knew who his killer was, then why are you ruling out the possibility that this same person could have had a racist motive?
 

COLUMBO: Because sir, if Mr. Jordan knew who his killer was, then there is no way he would have let him in the door if it was a person who was a known racist to him. Lieutenant Baker's been checking out the Dodger players and the Dodger management. There's no one in baseball that Sammy knew who has any ties to any racist groups. (Shakes his head) No, Reverend. I'm afraid at this point, the evidence is pointing in a different direction from what we initially thought. I don't know how long its going to take to find a suspect, but I am convinced that when we find out who it is, it's going to be someone Sammy Jordan was well acquainted with.
 

ROBERTS: And your mind is totally locked into that conclusion, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Based on the evidence as it is now, Reverend. That's all I can go on. Naturally if circumstances change and we receive new evidence that does point more clearly to a racist motive, I'll be the first to change my mind about that. But for now, the evidence has to dictate any preliminary judgments we make if we're going to have a reasonable chance of catching this killer.
 

ROBERTS: (Still displeased, rises from his chair). Lieutenant, I don't really want to find myself calling a press conference to complain about the LAPD's refusal to take seriously the nature of this crime, but if this is the attitude you're developing, you may leave me with no choice.
 

FRAZIER: (Angrily rises) Now wait a minute, Reverend! You said that if we agreed to keep you and your organization up to date on this investigation, you promised you wouldn't hold any press conferences! The last thing any of us want is to see this thing incite mass protests and demonstra