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 demonstrations!
 

ROBERTS: (Glares at Columbo) That was before I discovered that your investigating detective seemed so determined to downplay the serious matter that lies behind the killer's motive. Naturally, I cannot speak for how others will react to this news, but I think I can guarantee that many people will feel compelled to speak out if this sort of attitude continues. And their attitude in this case would be quite justifiable.
 

FRAZIER: Reverend, Lieutenant Columbo is probably the most outstanding member of the Homicide Division, and believe me he's not interested in whitewashing anything for the sake of making the Department look good. If what he says is true, then he's just following his instincts, and I think his years of service to this department say enough about how correct his instincts have usually been.
 

ROBERTS: I am truly sorry, that a more cooperative relationship could not have arisen from this. If it's clear that this is how things are going to continue, then I will be holding my press conference within a week. And I will be totally candid and forthright as to how I feel about this, and let others make their own judgments accordingly. (Bows slightly to Frazier) Good day, Captain. (Departs)
 

FRAZIER: (Sits down in exasperation, while Columbo is looking totally befuddled) Great, just great. Now we're really in trouble.
 

COLUMBO: Captain, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-----
 

FRAZIER: (Waves his hand) No, Columbo. It's not your fault, it's mine for thinking I could nip any potential problems in the bud by being cooperative with him and his group. I think the good reverend is just looking for the slightest excuse to make the LAPD look bad and score some points on the talk shows, and if anyone's naive it's me for thinking I could keep him from doing that. (Smiles uneasily) This is the kind of political problem that's made you stay a lieutenant all these years, isn't it Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: (Smiles faintly) I guess so, sir. As much as my wife wishes I'd had the ambition to get a captain's salary, I think I'd miss what I've always done on that front. Department politics are something I like to leave to those more qualified to deal with them.
 

FRAZIER: Well don't be intimidated by anything that might happen on the political front, Columbo. Not yet at least. Stay with your instincts, and see if they're proved right. But if you can get this thing wrapped up sooner than later, especially before Reverend Roberts has his press conference, the better off we'll all be.
 

Scene Seventeen. The local public library. Ross is hunched over a microfilm machine going through back issues of the Los Angeles Times. His attention is riveted to a newspaper headline that says boldly. "Kennicutt Killer Captured." We see photos from the time of Columbo, Kennicutt, his late wife Lenore, and the killer, the private investigator Brimmer. As he reads the article which explains the details of how the killer was apprehended, his eyes narrow in surprise, and he leans back in his chair with his hand to his chin in contemplation.
 

ROSS: (Muttering) Very ingenious, Columbo. No wonder Arthur thinks so highly of you.
 

[He reaches over, switches off the microfilm machine and gets up and leaves]
 

Scene Eighteen. A downtown office where Columbo is interviewing Sammy's agent DANIEL EPSTEIN, a balding man in a blue suit. The office has the photos of every baseball player he represents.
 

COLUMBO: Are all of those players on the wall ones you represent, Mr. Epstein?
 

EPSTEIN: Just about. I like to honor those I deal with directly first.
 

COLUMBO: But would you say Sammy was by far your most important client?
 

EPSTEIN: (Sighs) Certainly he was as far as this off-season goes. With Sammy deciding to test the free agent market, I knew this was going to be the most important deal I'd have ever negotiated in my life.
 

COLUMBO: (Leans back) Mr. Epstein, most of us have heard the rumors about Sammy likely not coming back to the Dodgers next season. Would you say that was the most likely scenario?
 

EPSTEIN: (Lets out a mirthless smirk) Lieutenant, that was a done deal as far as both Sammy and me were concerned. We had an interview set up with George Steinbrenner in New York next week to see about his coming to the Yankees, and then we had another one scheduled with the Mets General Manager.
 

COLUMBO: So you had no more meetings planned with Mr. Ross as far as listening to any final offers from the Dodgers?
 

EPSTEIN: None that I would have taken part in, Lieutenant. Elliot hates my guts probably more than any other person in Major League Baseball's management ranks. It had reached the point where he was trying to go over my head and appeal directly to Sammy, to try and get him to reconsider.
 

COLUMBO: You mean Mr. Ross had private meetings with him?
 

EPSTEIN: He had one, about three weeks ago. That was the day after Sammy won that dramatic game against the Mets with the home run in the 9^th.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, I remember that one. I could have gone to it, but I had too much leftover paperwork from my last case to deal with.
 

EPSTEIN: Anyway, Sammy said that after months of playing hardball with him over dollars, Elliot was suddenly singing a different tune and telling him that money was no longer a problem and the Dodgers were prepared to match any offer we got from any other team, no matter how outlandish it was. It was a really strange about-face after all the BSing he'd been giving us for months about how the Dodgers didn't have the budget to give him the kind of contract he was worth.
 

COLUMBO (piqued): Did Sammy have any idea why Mr. Ross was suddenly changing his tune?
 

EPSTEIN: He had a pretty good hunch that old man Kennicutt was starting to pressure Elliot into pulling all the stops to keep Sammy with the Dodgers, even to the point where Elliot was going to have to come off as though he were groveling and begging Sammy to stay. If Elliot didn't do that, then it stood to reason that his job as GM was probably at risk.
 

COLUMBO: In other words, Mr. Ross could have lost his job if Sammy didn't resign with the Dodgers?
 

EPSTEIN: (Shrugs) I don't know if it would have come to that ultimately, but clearly Elliot was operating under pressure from above. Kennicutt knows he's in his late 80s and if he wants to experience the prestige of owning a championship club, then results have to come fast, and Kennicutt quite rightly thought that Sammy was the key to that.
 

COLUMBO: But even with that pressure being put on Mr. Ross by Mr. Kennicutt, Sammy's instinct was still to leave the Dodgers?
 

EPSTEIN: Yes. Oh, Sammy didn't have anything against Kennicutt, he kind of liked the man, and respected him for being such a giant in the business world. But the bottom line with Sammy is that he'd be answering to Elliot's authority, not Kennicutt's, since the old man is like most owners whose last name isn't Steinbrenner. The owner lets the GM run all baseball operations, and that meant that Sammy would have to be willing to handle working for Elliot Ross for another ten years and he didn't want to do that anymore. As a GM, Elliot's not the kind of man Sammy knew and liked when he was a scout.
 

COLUMBO: I see. (Makes note) Mr. Epstein, were you aware of any other attempts Mr. Ross might have made to privately contact Sammy?
 

EPSTEIN: Not that I know of after the one time three weeks ago, but.....it wouldn't surprise me if Elliot wanted to try and go around me again.
 

COLUMBO: When was the last time you talked to Sammy?
 

EPSTEIN: Oh.....I think it was yesterday about.......one in the afternoon. He had Tanya coming over and was.....well basically the two of them were going to spend the whole afternoon getting laid, so we didn't talk too long.
 

COLUMBO: And what was the conversation about?
 

EPSTEIN: Just making the final arrangements as far as the trip to New York next week and the meeting with Steinbrenner.
 

COLUMBO: And Mr. Ross's name never once came up? He never mentioned anything like Mr. Ross trying to make some last efforts to get to him, like maybe.....oh, giving him some kind of gift?
 

EPSTEIN: (Frowning) Gift?
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, like maybe Mr. Ross sending Sammy some kind of peace offering to try and smooth things out between them?
 

EPSTEIN: (Shakes his head) That's a new one on me, Lieutenant. Sammy never mentioned talking to Elliot, let alone any gift he was expecting from him. Why do you ask?
 

COLUMBO: Nuthin. Just wanted to check one little detail. (Makes another note, and takes another puff on his cigar). I think that should just about do it. (Rises) Thanks for your time, Mr. Epstein.
 

EPSTEIN: You're welcome. Oh, and Lieutenant? (Columbo turns around) I hope you nail this SOB, whoever he is. Sammy meant a lot to me, and I don't mean that in the sense that I had a big commission coming from whatever contract he ended up signing.
 

[Columbo nods in understanding and departs]
 

Scene Nineteen. A modeling studio, where Tanya is posing for a lingerie ad photo shoot. She is wearing only a red, lacy bra and panties as she stands before the cameras and listens to the instructions of the photographer.
 

PHOTOGRAPHER: Just beautiful, Tanya. (He clicks away) Just a couple more and we'll call it a day.
 

[Tanya throws her mane of long blonde hair back and strikes a sultry pose]
 

PHOTOGRAPHER: Perfect. This is more than enough as far as the magazine layout goes.
 

TANYA: (striking another pose) If you need to go longer, I'm willing.
 

PHOTOGRAPHER: No, really, we don't have to. (Clicks).
 

TANYA: (Dropping her pose and glares at him) Look, I don't want you to get overly considerate with me. If you need me to do another half hour's worth of shots, then do it. I'd rather work as long as I possibly can.
 

PHOTOGRAPHER: (Chastened slightly) Okay, Tanya. No problem. Ah, we'll go another half hour then.
 

COLUMBO: (entering from the back of the room) Excuse me, they told me I could find Miss White here, and-----(Stops in his tracks and blushes when he sees her standing ten feet away in her underwear.) Oh, sorry, I ah-----
 

PHOTOGRAPHER: (Frowning) What are you doing here?
 

COLUMBO: I didn't mean to interrupt, I ah----(pulls out his badge and it drops to the floor. He awkwardly bends down to pick it up) I'm with the ah-----
 

TANYA: (Coolly) He's with the police, Doug, and he's here to interview me.
 

PHOTOGRAPHER: Oh, well in that case, I'll leave you two be for now. Come on guys, let's take five. (He departs with the lighting technicians and makeup artists following him out. Columbo is now alone in the room with Tanya, and he's awkwardly looking away from her with his head slightly lowered and his hand on his forehead).
 

TANYA: What do you need to know, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: (Still looking away from her) Ah, Miss White, I'm sorry I had to come by, there was just one or two more little details I needed to wrap up.
 

TANYA: (Sits down in a chair and crosses her legs. A robe lies on the back of the chair but she refuses to put it on). Go ahead, Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: Well, ah, I was just wondering.......
 

TANYA: (Angrily) Lieutenant, will you stop acting like a prude and turn around? Because if you can't look me in the eye, then you might as well just haul your ass out of here and let me get back to work.
 

COLUMBO: (Slowly turns around and forces himself to look at her) Miss White, I'm sorry but.....you're really not making it easy for me this way with you----
 

TANYA: (Rolls her eyes and looks up at the ceiling) Lieutenant, do you blush and look the other way when you're on the beach and you walk by the girls in bikinis? Those are skimpier then what I'm wearing now, so please drop this Old World embarrassment of yours and get on with it.

But to save you some time with your first question, the reason why I'm spending today working on this photo shoot for next month's Victoria Secret catalogue that was lined up weeks ago, is because I had to do something that would get my mind off this whole godawful tragedy, and the only way I can do that is to work. I certainly wasn't going to feel better getting dragged to some meeting with Sammy's parents that Shaw and Kennicutt wanted me to go to. The two of them just about blame me for their son's death, because they figure that if some racist bastard killed Sammy, then it's my fault ultimately for having drawn that attention to him by being his girlfriend. No way am I going to let myself put up with that kind of crap.
 

COLUMBO: (Holds up a hand) Miss White, I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry into that, and I'll let the other thing drop. There's nothing wrong with taking your mind off a tragedy by working.
 

TANYA: I'm glad you see it that way, Lieutenant. (Takes a breath and her tone grows more calm) Okay, what else do you want to know?
 

COLUMBO: Miss White, there's really just one thing I needed to check with you. How long were you at the house yesterday before you left?
 

TANYA: (Sighs heavily, as now the feelings of deep sadness and grief she feels come back) About....oh, I guess I came at around two, and stayed there until just after nine-fifteen.
 

COLUMBO: Did Mr. Jordan talk about his contract situation and his plans for next year during that time?
 

TANYA: (Nods) Yes, we both talked about it. We.....we were both thinking about how if he signed with the Yankees and moved to New York.....what kind of (her voice grows slightly fainter) living arrangements we'd need to work out.
 

COLUMBO: His mind was pretty much made up then.
 

TANYA: Yes. (Lowers her head and wipes at her eyes).
 

COLUMBO: (Takes a step toward her. The embarrassment he's felt before is now gone.) Miss White, this is really critical. Did Mr. Jordan at any time mention that he'd been in touch recently with Mr. Ross?
 

TANYA: (Shakes her head) He hadn't spoken to him since their last meeting, which was three weeks ago.
 

COLUMBO: He said that?
 

TANYA: Yes.
 

COLUMBO: And he said nothing about expecting anything that Mr. Ross might be sending to him?
 

TANYA: (Looks up at him and frowns) No. Lieutenant, what does all this mean?
 

COLUMBO: Well, these are all little details that are helping me start to form some possible ideas about what might have happened. I really am not prepared to say at this point what this is leading to, but believe me what you're telling me is a great help. (Starts to walk away then stops and turns back) One more thing.
 

TANYA: Sure.
 

COLUMBO: Did Mr. Jordan have a collection of baseball memorabilia at his house?
 

TANYA: Yes. Yes, he did have a nice collection of old bats, photos, balls, things like that.
 

COLUMBO: Where did he keep those things? I didn't notice anything like that when I was at the house.
 

TANYA: (Sighs and looks up again at the ceiling) Oh.....Sammy kept most of that stuff downstairs in the basement. A few other items he kept on a table in the front of the house.
 

COLUMBO: The front of the house? You mean in the foyer by the front door?
 

TANYA: Yes. He....told me what they were once, but I was never good at absorbing all that old history. I think there was a......rare baseball card or something of a famous player and a funny thing, a......(flash of recognition comes over her) A brick. Some piece of an old ballpark that was torn down.
 

COLUMBO: I see. (Stops and nods his head) Miss White, I really appreciate your talking to me. I'll let you get back to your work.
 

TANYA: Thank you. (Takes a breath) Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: Yes miss?
 

TANYA: (Smiles crookedly) If your son still considers himself a fan of mine, I'd be happy to send him an autographed picture.
 

COLUMBO: Oh would you? Boy, I know he'd get a kick out of that. Tell you what, let me just give you his address. (Pulls out notebook and scribbles the information down, then rips out the page and hands it to her) I wouldn't want my wife to find this out. She ah....well, forget it, that doesn't matter. Thanks again.
 

[Columbo departs, leaving Tanya alone to shake her head in sadness again.]
 

Scene Twenty. Ross is in the basement of his house, calmly spraying a can of air freshener about the room. He is guarding against the possibility of Columbo showing up to question him and notice the slightly smoky smell that has lingered in the room since he burned all of the remaining chemicals he used to make the bomb as well as the books he used for reference in building it. When he finishes, he sets the can down and inspects his garbage can to make sure there are no paper fragments that could be inspected. Satisfied, he goes upstairs to his main living room, which is lined with a large amount of rare baseball memorabilia. He sits down in his easy chair and leans back, trying to see if there's anything else he hasn't considered. When he hears the doorbell ring, he is slightly jolted and gets up to answer it. When he opens the door and sees Columbo, who is holding a manilla envelope, he is half surprised and half not surprised to see him.
 

ROSS: Oh, good evening, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?
 

COLUMBO: (Enters) Mind if I come in?
 

ROSS: No, not at all. Make yourself at home. (Columbo enters the living room) Can I get you a drink?
 

COLUMBO: Oh no sir, no. Wouldn't think of that. I just......(Stops and notices the memorabilia lining the walls and the tables) Oh boy, and I thought what you had in your office was impressive, but this is even more fabulous.
 

ROSS: (Smiles, knowing inside that Columbo is trying to disarm him) Lieutenant, let me find out how much of a baseball history expert you are. (Leads him over to framed photo and points) Recognize him?
 

COLUMBO: (Nods his head and smiles) I'd never forget that face. Pee Wee Reese, the Little Colonel they called him. The greatest shortstop in Dodger history.
 

ROSS: (Points to next photo) How about him?
 

COLUMBO: (Nods again) The Duke of Flatbush. Number four. Edwin Charles Snider.
 

ROSS: (Smiles) And since you said you were a Yankees fan, you were undoubtedly arguing for Mantle in that eternal argument among New Yorkers over Willie, Mickey and the Duke.
 

COLUMBO: Well, to be honest, none of them ever topped Joe D. in terms of who I thought was the best centerfielder I ever saw.
 

ROSS: Speaking of Joltin' Joe. (Leads Columbo over to a glass case. Inside are several bats) The one on the bottom is a DiMaggio bat from his last season, 1951. I got him to sign it at an Old Timers Game a few years back.
 

COLUMBO: 1951. (Shakes his head in awe) DiMaggio's last year, first year for Mantle and Willie Mays. The 51 pennant race with the Dodgers and Giants. What a great year that was. I almost missed the end of the pennant race. I got drafted and shipped out to Korea for a tour of duty not long after that. I'd have hated myself if I'd missed the end of that race. (Looks back at Ross) It must cost a lot to have a collection like this.
 

ROSS: (Nods) It's not cheap to build up one, that's for sure. Oh, maybe not as expensive as an art collection, but it still can run high. (Looks back at the case) Things like this though, I think they have more meaning then a painting ever can.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, I know where you're coming from. (Turns to Ross) Sammy had a collection himself, didn't he?
 

ROSS: Certainly, Lieutenant. That's why I made that peace offering with the package I was sending him, with all the Jackie Robinson items.
 

COLUMBO: (Nods) Yeah, we checked that out with Major League Collectibles. That package actually arrived today at his address. For now, we're having it stored among the rest of his personal effects.
 

ROSS: I imagine he left all of that stuff to Tanya and his parents. They'll probably argue for the next ten years over how to divide all that up.
 

COLUMBO: That wouldn't surprise me.
 

ROSS: So, Lieutenant, maybe we can sit down and talk about how the investigation stands?
 

COLUMBO: Guess so. (They move to the center. Columbo sits down in the easy chair, while Ross sits across on the couch). I have to tell you, this is really starting to look more and more like the work of someone who wanted us to think this was something it wasn't.
 

ROSS: How so?
 

COLUMBO: Well.....I'm practically convinced that the racial angle is out. I don't think the killer's motive was racist. I think it was personal.
 

ROSS: (Raises an eyebrow) Personal?
 

COLUMBO: Yes. I think this was aimed specifically at Sammy Jordan for a specific reason that had nothing to do with his affair with Miss White or his skin color. I think he had a grudge against Sammy Jordan over something and he seized an opportunity to try and kill him and make it look like something that a lot of people would find easy to believe. The racial angle, that's easy to try and create as a diversion. People know about his relationship with Miss White, so the killer knows the public's conditioned to think racism is the motive. And if he's someone who knows Sammy, then he probably also knows about the hate mail and the ugly notes under the windshield Sammy's gotten in the past.
 

ROSS: (Shakes his head) Ah, Lieutenant, how'd you get back to this conclusion? I thought when we talked before, we agreed the simpler solution was that the killer was a racist who got in probably by disguising himself as a delivery man.
 

COLUMBO: (Nods) Yes sir, we did agree on that at the time. But......I'm afraid my opinion on that changed this afternoon when I went through some more of the crime scene evidence. I'm afraid that it looks more and more obvious that the killer had to be someone Sammy knew. Now that would best explain how the killer was able to enter the house through the front door, which we already know is the only way he could have gotten in.
 

ROSS: Someone he knew? You mean.... someone who knew Sammy brought some package for him and Sammy just opened it because he figured it was from someone he could trust?
 

COLUMBO: That's one way it could have happened. Maybe not necessarily that way, but certainly one way.
 

ROSS: Well ah, Lieutenant, what's your evidence that makes you think Sammy knew the killer?
 

COLUMBO: This sir. (Opens the envelope and hands him a photograph) This is from the crime scene. It's a pretty ugly sight with all that stuff that got burned and smashed and wrecked in the explosion, but I want you to see that thing I have circled. The flat red item.
 

ROSS: (Squints) What is it?
 

COLUMBO: It's a Coca-Cola can, sir. And the can was still half to three quarters full when the bomb went off.
 

ROSS: (Hands the photo back to Columbo) How does a Coke can prove that Sammy knew his killer?
 

COLUMBO: Sir, the can and the stain from the liquid is on the floor next to the wrong chair and table. There are two chairs and tables in the foyer where people can sit down, and behind that is the other bigger table which according to Miss White is where Sammy kept some of his pieces of memorabilia. This Coke can, was by the chair furthest from the memorabilia table, and furthest from where Sammy opened the package.
 

ROSS: I....don't think I get you, Lieutenant.
 

COLUMBO: Sammy's position at the time he opened the package was closer to the chair and table in front of the memorabilia table. Not the one where the Coke can was found. That means that Sammy was not sitting in the chair where the Coke can originally was. That was where the killer was sitting when he was first let in. And then maybe Sammy, being a nice guy to someone he knew well and didn't have any reason to be afraid of, got him a Coke and the killer drank some of it before getting up to go to his safe spot by the bathroom down the hallway.
 

ROSS: (Rubs his chin) Well.....that's an interesting theory, Lieutenant. But....sounds awfully speculative if you ask me.
 

COLUMBO: Oh, I think that as we dig through the evidence more, we're going to find a lot more things that will indicate Sammy knew who his killer was. And once we do that, then I think we're going to have no trouble isolating a suspect from there, because then all we got to do is start checking the whereabouts of all of Sammy's acquaintances from the Dodgers and baseball, and all his business friends, and I think in no time at all we'll start to zero in on our killer.
 

ROSS: (Nods his head, looking impressed) Well, if that's how things look at the moment, I guess it can only get better from here on in. Is there ah.....anything else I can do to help?
 

COLUMBO: No sir. I think for now, we've got this situation pretty much in hand. Naturally, the Department will keep giving you and Mr. Kennicutt the necessary updates.
 

ROSS: I'll tell him the good news you gave me.
 

COLUMBO: (Rises) I'll be going now. I think it's time I head home and try to unwind. It's really been a long day. You ever have one of those kind of days where you just feel like you've been running all over town in all directions, and then when the day is over, you just want to collapse and crawl into bed forever?
 

ROSS: (Smiles) Frequently, Lieutenant. Sure I can't give you one drink for the road?
 

COLUMBO: Nah, I think I'll just have a beer when I get home. Got a six pack waiting for me in the fridge. (Looks about the house) I got to tell you Mr. Ross, this is really a nice house. And it's a nice neighborhood too.
 

ROSS: I've lived here about four years now. I think it suits me pretty well.
 

COLUMBO: Four years. That's how long you've been General Manager, isn't it?
 

ROSS: (Expression doesn't change) Yes.
 

COLUMBO: Must have searched pretty high and low to find a good place like this when you decided to move.
 

ROSS: It didn't take too long. I didn't want to go too overboard or too big, since I plan on remaining a happily divorced single man for the rest of my life and don't plan on having anything family sized ever.
 

COLUMBO: Oh, you're divorced? Sorry to hear that.
 

ROSS: (Shrugs) That was a long time ago. I found out then that I wasn't cut out for marriage, and I've been content with that knowledge ever since.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, I guess that can happen. Now me, I wouldn't know what I'd do without Mrs. Columbo and the kids we've had. Greatest thing that ever happened to me. Well, I'll be off now. (Opens the door then turns around) By the way, the fastest way back to the Freeway is to take Maple Street, isn't it?
 

ROSS: Ah yes. Just go one block from here, and you're on Maple and then take Maple for three miles and you're there.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, that's what I thought. (Pauses and looks up) You know what's funny? You drive down Maple to get here, and you go right past the Free Methodist Church. That's really a funny coincidence, because we know the killer parked his car in the church parking lot and then snuck through the trees into Sammy's backyard, and that's where he made his getaway from. You know for all we know he might have gone right through this neighborhood when he made his escape.
 

ROSS: (Clearly rattled inside. For all his attempts to anticipate Columbo, the detective has brought up something he wasn't expecting. It takes all his strength to not break a sweat). Well, you keep investigating, Columbo. The more I talk to you, the more I can see how everything Arthur said about you is right.
 

COLUMBO: I'll be in touch with you again. (Closes door)
 

ROSS: (quietly) I'm sure of that, Lieutenant. I'm sure of that.
 

Scene Twenty One. Dodger Stadium. Kennicutt's office. Columbo shakes hands with the Dodger owner and sits down.
 

KENNICUTT: Lieutenant, I really can't begin to tell you again how glad I am to know you're on this case.
 

COLUMBO: Well, Mr. Kennicutt, like I've said, I appreciate the fact you still have confidence in me after all these years.
 

KENNICUTT: Why shouldn't I? Lieutenant, I've told you, I make it my business to keep up with your career. I couldn't do anything less for the man who did me the biggest favor of my life.
 

COLUMBO: (Slightly embarrassed) It was something I was glad to put your mind at ease about, Mr. Kennicutt. (Looks about the office and tries to change the subject) It must really be a lot of fun to own a baseball team.
 

KENNICUTT: (Sips from a drink) I enjoy it. In fact, owning the Dodgers has given me the first real enjoyment I've had in my life since Lenore's death. (Gazes adoringly at the portrait across the room) It was hard to move on, Lieutenant. I got over my depression once that bastard Brimmer was put away, but.....after that, the publishing world seemed a lot more empty and meaningless to me than it once did. I look back and I find it amazing that I stayed in that world another twenty years before I finally sold off all my interests. And then, once I did that, I discovered that I wasn't ready to retire after all, and was just restless for a new challenge in life. It occurred to me that owning a sports franchise would be a nice way to fulfill that. And when the Fox people told me the Dodgers were for sale, then naturally I seized at the opportunity. (Smiles at Columbo) It's made me feel like a young man again, Lieutenant. The kind of feeling I used to have....when Lenore was alive.
 

COLUMBO: I'm glad to know that, sir. Although of course, this tragedy with Sammy has to really put a damper on all that.
 

KENNICUTT: (Nods) It does. In so many ways. And that's why I want to see this case solved so the Dodgers, and baseball for that matter, can move on from this.
 

COLUMBO: Well, Mr. Kennicutt, that's why I wanted to see you. I think there's a very good chance that we know who killed Sammy.
 

KENNICUTT: (Frowns in amazement) Who?
 

COLUMBO: (Takes a breath) Your general manager, Mr. Ross.
 

KENNICUTT: (An expression of stunned disbelief) Elliot Ross? You think Elliot killed Sammy?
 

COLUMBO: (Nods) I do, Mr. Kennicutt. All of the evidence is pointing to him right now, and what I need to know before I go any further with that suspicion is for you to answer a couple of important questions.
 

KENNICUTT: Yes, I'll answer your questions, Lieutenant, but......why?
 

COLUMBO: I think you can provide me with the answer to that, sir. First, I have to ask you, did Mr. Ross have any reason to think his job as general manager was in jeopardy if he wasn't able to keep Sammy from leaving the team?
 

KENNICUTT: (A look of horror comes over his face) My God.
 

COLUMBO: I take it, you told him that?
 

KENNICUTT: Yes. Yes, I told him his future as General Manager was on the line if he wasn't able to keep Sammy with the Dodgers. But my God, he actually decided he'd kill Sammy if he couldn't succeed in doing that?
 

COLUMBO: That's what it seems like to me, sir. If Mr. Ross were fired as General Manager, then what would have happened to him after that?
 

KENNICUTT: Well, I told him that he wouldn't be out of work. That he'd simply be reassigned to a less demanding position in the organization like director of scouting or head of minor league operations.
 

COLUMBO: But if that had happened, you wouldn't have kept paying him what he's making as GM, would you?
 

KENNICUTT: (Shakes head) No. Certainly not.
 

COLUMBO: How much does Mr. Ross make as General Manager?
 

KENNICUTT: Oh, I'd say about $500,000 a year. No other non-player makes more money than that in the organization except for Steve Shaw who makes close to a million.
 

COLUMBO: And how much does a director of scouting make?
 

KENNICUTT: (eyes narrow) $100,000 a year.
 

COLUMBO: There's your motive then. Mr. Ross couldn't abide the prospect of losing 80 percent of his annual income if he lost his job as General Manager. That's why he had to stop Sammy Jordan from signing with another team, and if he couldn't get him to stay, then the simpler solution for him was to kill him and make it look like the work of a racist killer.
 

KENNICUTT: When did you first suspect Elliot?
 

COLUMBO: Well, I actually developed my first suspicion when he handed back that old note that Sammy had given him three weeks ago at their last meeting. For what reason would Mr. Ross have kept that racist note all that time, unless he felt he might have a need for it sometime later?
 

KENNICUTT: But how did he pull this off? Elliot doesn't have any background in chemistry or anything like that. Could he really have put together a mail bomb package all by himself? And how does he get Sammy to open it?
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, I think you'd be surprised to find out how easier it is in this day and age of internet web sites and large numbers of books on people like the Unabomber, for a person of reasonable intelligence like Mr. Ross is, to put a basic bomb together that would be enough to do the job. As to how he did it, I believe Mr. Ross invited himself over to Sammy's house on the pretext of seeing him one more time about his contract. And then somehow, I'm not exactly sure how, he presented that package to him Mr. Ross admitted to me that he ordered a package from Major League Collectibles in New York with memorabilia that he was offering as a gift to Sammy, and a legitimate package from them did arrive at Sammy's house today. I think what happened was that when Mr. Jordan saw the package, Mr. Ross then probably said something like, "Oh, that's a package I ordered for you from Major League Collectibles, you can feel safe opening it." And then, it's just a matter of being safely out of sight and around the corner in the hallway when Sammy opens the package and the bomb goes off. Then, a quick exit out the back and through the trees back to his car in the church parking lot.
 

KENNICUTT: But you don't have anything that directly ties Elliot to the scene of the crime or to that bomb package, do you?
 

COLUMBO: (Shakes his head) No. Unfortunately, Mr. Kennicutt, my suspicions about Mr. Ross don't include anything that can be considered substantive proof at this point. That's the problem. It's reached a point where I'm convinced beyond any doubt he's our killer, but there's nothing that can warrant an arrest at this point, let alone an indictment or conviction.
 

KENNICUTT: Could you just wait things out until you find what you need to nab him?
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, that's what I'd like to do, but.....unfortunately, my captain is putting a lot of pressure on me to get this thing wrapped up before it gets out of hand. So long as an arrest isn't made, there are going to be a lot of rabble rousers who'll try to play up the possible racist motive as an excuse for the kind of mass demonstrations against the Force that we frankly don't need to see at this time. Cuz when those kind of demonstrations happen, things can really end up getting out of hand like Watts or Rodney King.
 

KENNICUTT: (Nods) I understand, Lieutenant. Obviously, if your suspicions are right, then the sooner you can trap him the better. (Pause) Tell me something, Lieutenant. After all these years, are you still putting potatoes in the tail pipes of cars to keep them from starting?
 

[Columbo looks up and a wry smile comes over his face]
 

Scene Twenty One. The next afternoon. Sammy Jordan's funeral. A large crowd is filing out of the church, where the emotional service has just ended. We see Sammy's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, who have the look of a couple in their 50s who have lived most of their life in humble, poor conditions, make their way out. Mrs. Jordan, who is wearing a black dress and veil, suddenly spots Tanya, who is talking to several friends who have accompanied here. She angrily comes over to her.
 

MRS. JORDAN: Bitch! (Tanya whips around in stunned shock). Because of you, my boy is dead! I hope you're happy, you golddigging tramp! (Mr. Jordan rushes up and grabs his wife)
 

MR. JORDAN: Please. Not here. Don't make a scene here.
 

MRS. JORDAN: I don't care! I want her to know what I feel.
 

[Reverend Roberts, who has also attended the funeral with several civil rights group representatives also steps in and tries to help pull her away]
 

ROBERTS: Mrs. Jordan, this isn't the time and place for ugliness. For Sammy's sake, calm down.
 

MRS. JORDAN: (Takes a breath and glares with hate at Tanya) All right. But I'll be letting that woman know what I think of her again.
 

[They walk away, leaving Tanya ready to break down again. It takes all her strength for her to stay collected, as her friends lead her away to the parking lot. Columbo, Kennicutt, Shaw and Ross are watching from a distance.]
 

KENNICUTT: That's unfortunate there had to be a scene like that. But the way the Jordans feel about her is quite strong.
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, she indicated that to me yesterday. (Shakes his head) I guess the only thing that would cause them to reassess their view of Miss White is if it turned out that Sammy's murder didn't have anything to do with race or his relationship with Miss White.
 

SHAW: You really think that's likely, Lieutenant?
 

ROSS: (Wryly smiling) Haven't you heard, Steve? The good lieutenant thinks the bombing was all a big smokescreen, no pun intended. He thinks someone with a personal vendetta against Sammy, someone he knew well, was the killer.
 

SHAW: Good God, why?
 

COLUMBO: We're still trying to come up with that answer, Mr. Shaw, although our team is coming up with a list of names that we're going to check out quite thoroughly. As a matter of fact, one thing we're going to be checking out is the library records for all of them.
 

SHAW: Library records?
 

COLUMBO: Yeah, it goes back to the fact that we think this killer was a total amateur when it came to putting this bomb together. That means he was apt to have read all kinds of books he could get his hands on that have to do with chemistry, and probably even famous bombing cases like the Unabomber. We check those library records and see if anyone on our list has been checking out books having to do with those topics, and we can start narrowing it down further.
 

ROSS: Ah, Lieutenant, would those library records be enough for you to arrest someone?
 

COLUMBO: (Shakes his head) No, I gotta admit Mr. Ross, the library records would be too circumstantial. Anyone could come up with a reason for checking those books out and that would be enough to scare off a DA from indictment. What I think might help though is if we found out what books were checked out by likely suspects, and then we could go in and inspect those books that were used by the suspects. Because when you stop to think about it, when the killer put this bomb together he probably had all those books open on his table at the time. And that means there's a good chance that maybe, some of the chemical components that were in the bomb, will have traces on those copies of the books. (Holds up a finger) That would be exactly the kind of direct physical evidence that could tie a suspect to the scene of the crime, and that would be enough to make an arrest and get a conviction.
 

SHAW: Who are some of these suspects you have in mind, Lieutenant?
 

COLUMBO: I'd rather not say right now, Mr. Shaw. All I can say is that we've got a list of names, and we're going to check out all of their records. We've got the okay from a judge to go ahead and do that, since this is part of a murder investigation and that supersedes privacy laws in these matters. All we have to do is just keep the results for those who are innocent, totally confidential.
 

ROSS: Well, that sounds interesting, Lieutenant. I hope it turns out to be a promising avenue.
 

KENNICUTT: Knowing the Lieutenant, Elliot, I think it will be. (Looks over and sees the reporters approaching) Let's get out of here, fast. (They move down the church steps and into Kennicutt's limousine).
 

Scene Twenty Two. Early evening now at the public library. Ross is calmly going into the main reading area where all the shelves are located. Several men are sitting in the comfortable leather chairs reading idly. There is no expression of any emotion on his face as he walks toward one aisle of shelves and slowly makes his way down it. Halfway down, he comes to a stop and looks at the books on the shelves with his hands behind his back. In front of him are two books he had used for help in constructing the bomb, one of which is an overview of the Unabomber case. He continues to stare at it with no emotion for a moment, his hands still behind his back. Finally, he smiles malevolently and turns away.
 

ROSS: Oh, Columbo. You can come out from your hiding place now.
 

[There is an awkward silence, and then a disbelieving Columbo emerges from around at the other end of the aisle. Kennicutt is standing with him, glaring angrily at Ross.]
 

ROSS: Ah, so you're here too, Arthur. Couldn't resist the desire to revisit old times with the Lieutenant? (Motions his head to the shelves) As you can see, gentlemen, I haven't touched anything on those shelves. Your little scheme to try and replay what you did when you nabbed Lenore Kennicutt's killer isn't going to work with me. Not the least of which is the fact that you're trying to trap an innocent man.
 

KENNICUTT: (Angrily) If you're so innocent, Elliot, then why did you come down here? And why did you check those books out on the Unabomber in the first place?
 

ROSS: For the same reason that about 10,000 other innocent people in this country have bought or checked out books on the Unabomber case, Arthur. And if that's the standard by which people get accused of murder now, then we are getting one step closer to a fascist state it would seem. (Stares at Columbo) I came down here solely to humor you, Columbo. I realized last night, when you made that offhanded remark about my house being a few miles from where the killer made his getaway, that you had decided to ignore the obvious facts of the case, which is a racist murder, and focus on me instead. Now why you've developed this perverted notion that I could do such a thing to Sammy, I have no idea, but once I realized that was what you were thinking, I knew it would be a matter of time before you'd try to pull a stunt like you did in the Kennicutt case. Plant an idea in the suspect's head that there's something he's overlooked, then catch him in the act of trying to dispose of that evidence which is really non-existent. The important thing is to hope the suspect makes a confession in front of witnesses before he realizes he's been set-up. (Pauses in satisfaction) That's what you were hoping for, wasn't it Lieutenant? Because you and I both know that there isn't anything on that book I returned the other day that could possibly be of interest to your investigation. I know it because I didn't kill Sammy, and you know it because you were just hoping to get a reaction.
 

COLUMBO: (Keeps his expression even) You're free to go, Mr. Ross.
 

ROSS: I'm glad to hear you say that, Columbo. And tomorrow, you can expect me to show up in Parker Center with my attorney and together we're going to sue you and your department for all you've got.
 

COLUMBO: I'd advise against that sir. You haven't been placed under arrest, so there's no false arrest charge you can make.
 

ROSS: Try entrapment then.
 

COLUMBO: Entrapment, Mr. Ross? With what? Merely observing your conduct with regard to your recent handling of material that needed to be investigated?
 

ROSS: (For the first time, his air of self-swagger deflates slightly) Columbo, I'll still sue. You and your whole department are a joke. There's a racist killer out there and you've been purposefully ignoring that fact. I wonder why. At any rate, when I get through serving notice on you tomorrow, you can expect me to call up a few local civil rights leaders who won't like to find out how you've been conducting this matter. And at the very least, I can go to bed knowing that I thwarted your little scheme here tonight. (Turns and walks away).
 

KENNICUTT: Elliot! (Ross turns around) I want you to clean out your desk by noon tomorrow. You're fired. (Ross's eyes widen) You might be able to get off the hook as far as Sammy's murder goes, Elliot, but it'll all be for nothing. You're still through in baseball management.
 

ROSS: (The muscles are throbbing in his neck) You go ahead and do that, Arthur. You've just given me one more target to sue, and when I get through you'll owe me so much that you'll have to make me a new limited partner. (Walks away with a contemptuous air).
 

KENNICUTT: (Deflated) Lieutenant, I'm sorry. It was my fault for suggesting you try this.
 

COLUMBO: No, Mr. Kennicutt. I took a gamble I needed to take, and I ended up underestimating him completely. (Puts a hand to his chin) He is right about one thing. If he goes public and claims he's been unjustly harassed he can make it all but impossible to try and establish him as the killer. It's got to be done with something tangible that ties him to the scene of the crime.
 

KENNICUTT: And is there anything that might be able to do that?
 

COLUMBO: Not at the moment. (Takes a breath) But I think I'd better head back downtown and see if something slipped through the cracks. (Walks away)
 

Scene Twenty Three. Parker Center. Columbo is taking off his raincoat and then his suit jacket as he looks at Baker and Sergeant Clay. On a table in front of them are stacks of crime scene photographs and sealed bags with evidence.
 

COLUMBO: Okay fellas. Order up all the coffee you can drink, because it's going to be a long night. We have to find something that ties Elliot Ross to that crime scene before he arrives tomorrow with his lawyer. (Baker and Clay start to go through the stacks of crime scene photos as Captain Frazier enters the room)
 

FRAZIER: Columbo, can I talk to you a moment?
 

COLUMBO: Sure, Captain.
 

FRAZIER: Columbo, we're facing a big crisis tomorrow. And I don't just mean Ross's threat to sue the Department. After he left you, he called Reverend Roberts and his supporters, and as soon as he finishes serving notice on us, he's going to have a press conference with Roberts and blast us for ignoring the problem of race hate in the community. And he plans on going after you big time. (Pauses) If it comes to that, then I'm going to have no choice but to take you off the case completely, and there might even be pressure for you to turn in your badge and gun until this thing dies down.
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, knowing me, you don't have to worry about the gun part.
 

FRAZIER: (Smiles thinly) That's true. But what's more important is that your whole reputation in the department would take such a big hit that it would cause trouble to just get you assigned to any other major case again. And that's something I wouldn't ever want to see happen. You're still the best the Department ever turned out when it comes to high profile homicide investigation, Columbo. You helped weed out the worst rotten apple in the history of the LAPD when you nabbed Commissioner Halperin, and there isn't a single cop in our ranks who shouldn't be grateful to you for that. That's why I don't want to ever be in the position of putting you through that kind of humiliation.
 

COLUMBO: Thank you sir. I appreciate that a lot. (Looks back at the table where Baker and Clay are going through the photos). I think sir, I'd better get back to reviewing the evidence.
 

FRAZIER: You do that, Columbo. And I'll be crossing my fingers. (Departs)
 

[Columbo sits down at the desk, takes a stack of photos and put his feet up on the table. He calmly lights a cigar and starts to study the color photo blowup of the crime scene intently. He puts a hand to his forehead and his eyes narrow on one part of the photo which shows Sammy Jordan's body lying in front of the ruined chair, table and the larger table behind.]
 

COLUMBO: Sergeant, you got the printout of my last interview with Tanya White?
 

CLAY: Ah, just a sec, sir. (Bends down and picks up a looseleaf notebook from the floor. Each notebook contains the retyped computer printouts of Columbo's interviews with the witnesses.) The one you had at the modeling shoot?
 

COLUMBO: Yeah. That's it. (Clay hands it to Columbo. He starts to read it) Clay, what would I ever do if you weren't able to retype my notes the way you do? Let's see......
 

[Columbo continues to read and then his eyes light up. He puts the notebook down and goes back to the crime scene photo he was looking at earlier. His eyes narrow together and he puts the photo down, taking a contemplative puff on his cigar]
 

BAKER: (Looking up from the photos he's been going through and frowning) Something wrong, Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: (Picks up the picture and looks at it again) Something's not right with this picture, fellas. (Hands it across to Baker who looks at it, and shrugs. He then gives it to Clay who also looks at it blankly).
 

BAKER: What's not right with it, Columbo? That's exactly how the crime scene looked when my team and I found the body.
 

COLUMBO: You're absolutely sure of that, Baker? This photo is how things looked at the time you and your boys arrived?
 

BAKER: Positive, Lieutenant. No doubt whatsoever. Nothing was touched or moved until you had the cordon placed around the hallway.
 

COLUMBO: (Starts to nod his head). Clay, give me the notebook that lists all the crime scene evidence we marked and had sealed. (Clay hands him another notebook. Columbo opens it up and his eyes move down the page. He then flips to the next page and repeats the process, until finally he points to one spot.) Here it is. Clay, get out crime scene exhibit, number 23A.
 

[As Clay gets up to go over to the boxes that contain the physical evidence, Baker is frowning at Columbo.]
 

BAKER: You think you've found something, Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: (Taking another puff) I think so.
 

Scene Twenty Four. Captain Frazier's office the next morning. Columbo, minus his raincoat again, sits off to one side along with Kennicutt and Shaw. They are all waiting as Frazier's office phone buzzes.
 

FRAZIER: Yes? Okay, send him in. (Hangs up) Ross is here with his attorney.
 

[The door opens and Ross enters, followed by his attorney, the distinguished looking Lloyd McCracken. McCracken's expression is totally businesslike, while there is an almost arrogant smirk lining Ross's face.]
 

ROSS: Captain Frazier, this is my attorney, Lloyd McCracken. I think you know why we're here.
 

FRAZIER: Yes, Mr. Ross, we do. Mr. McCracken, I don't think I have to introduce you to anyone else who's here?
 

MCCRACKEN: No, Captain. (Looks at Columbo) As a matter of fact, I'm well acquainted with Lieutenant Columbo. I don't know if this is something my professional pride should admit, but he recently put away a killer who I'm sorry to say was a client of mine that I trusted more than I ever should have.
 

COLUMBO: (Inside, he almost feels sorry for McCracken after hearing that) The Flemming murder case, Captain.
 

FRAZIER: Ah yes, I remember. The revenge-minded sister-in-law. Tragic. Anyway, I suppose you're about to serve notice on me as the Department's official representative, of Mr. Ross's intention to file suit.
 

MCCRACKEN: Yes, Captain. (He opens his attache case and hands the document to Frazier) And as long as Mr. Kennicutt is here as well, I might as well present him with this notice of Mr. Ross's intention to file suit against him too. (Hands another document to Kennicutt who disdainfully takes it and glances at it with contempt). Now, gentlemen, my client really does not want to have to go forward with these lawsuits that could be damaging to the department's reputation, nor does he wish to subject someone as respected as Mr. Kennicutt to the strain of a drawn-out litigation either. I think I can safely say, that Mr. Ross is prepared to have both of these documents torn up, if Lieutenant Columbo will apologize personally to him for having unduly made him a suspect in this case, and if Mr. Kennicutt will restore Mr. Ross to his job, as the dismissal was totally without foundation and just cause, insomuch as it stemmed from Lieutenant Columbo's unwarranted suspicions of my client.
 

FRAZIER: (Looks at Columbo) Lieutenant Columbo, I believe that now that Mr. McCracken has made his point, do you have anything you'd like to say to Mr. Ross?
 

COLUMBO: (Rises from his chair with a humble air) Yes sir, I do have something to say to Mr. Ross. And now seems like the best time to say that.
 

ROSS: (Still smirking) Go ahead, Columbo. I'm listening.
 

COLUMBO: You're under arrest for the murder of Sammy Jordan. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain-------
 

ROSS: (Bewildered) Wait a minute, what the hell is this?
 

MCCRACKEN: (Equally shocked) Lieutenant, you have a very lousy sense of humor----.
 

FRAZIER: The lieutenant is not joking, gentlemen, and I suggest you let him finish. Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: (nods) If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and to have him present at all times. If you cannot afford an attorney......Captain I don't need to give him that part since his attorney's already here?
 

ROSS: I don't frigging believe this!
 

FRAZIER: No, Columbo. Stick to regulations.
 

COLUMBO: If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. Do you understand all this?
 

ROSS: (Exploding) Yeah, I do, and brother Columbo, you just cost your department another goddamned ten million for false arrest after this!
 

KENNICUTT: I wouldn't bet on that, Elliot.
 

ROSS: (Snarling) Yeah, right. You'd always go to bat for the little bastard just because he figured out your wife's murder all those years ago.
 

MCCRACKEN: (Alarmed) Elliot, will you calm down and just sit down for now! Let me handle this! (Grabs him by the arm and forces him to sit down. He turns to Columbo, an expression of total disbelief). Lieutenant, on what grounds are you making this arrest?
 

COLUMBO: It's based on physical evidence, Mr. McCracken. Not hunches, not little stunts to try and trip the killer up when there's nothing concrete to go on. I made the mistake of thinking the evidence was such that only a trap like the one I used on the Kennicutt case would ferret out the killer. But now I realize I didn't have to do that. There was evidence staring us in the face all the time, because Mr. Ross, you made one little mistake that's done you in.
 

ROSS: (Still snarling angrily) And what mistake was that, Columbo?
 

COLUMBO: Well sir, it stems from the fact that you have too much love for baseball history.
 

ROSS: Huh?
 

COLUMBO: You love baseball history. And more importantly, you love baseball memorabilia. So much so, that the thought of seeing a rare piece of baseball memorabilia destroyed, troubled your conscience more than the fact that you decided to kill a man just to preserve your financial standing, and your power in the Dodgers organization.
 

ROSS: What are you babbling about?
 

COLUMBO: Look at this, Mr. Ross. Mr. McCracken. This is a photo of the crime scene. It shows Sammy Jordan lying dead after the blast in his original position. Behind the small table next to the chair are the burnt remains of a bigger table that took the force of the blast completely and wrecked it. Now, Mr. Ross, since you've visited Mr. Jordan's house before, would you tell us what that table in the foyer was used for?
 

ROSS: (Stares at it blankly) I don't remember. It's been months since I was there.
 

COLUMBO: (Looks over at Shaw) Mr. Shaw, maybe you'll answer that question.
 

SHAW: (Staring at Ross with total hate and contempt) The table was where Sammy kept three special items of baseball memorabilia in his collection, separate from the main collection which was kept in the basement. There was a rare baseball card of Mickey Mantle's, valued at more than $10,000. There was also an autographed ball with the signatures of the 55 Dodger team.
 

COLUMBO: And was there one other item?
 

SHAW: (Nods) Yes. A brick that came from the original cornerstone of Ebbets Field.
 

COLUMBO: Those three items were always kept on the foyer table?
 

SHAW: Yes sir.
 

COLUMBO: (Turns back to Ross) We also have statements from Miss White that those three items were still kept on the desk in the foyer on the day Sammy was killed. Now she couldn't describe them as specifically as Mr. Shaw here did, but her descriptions of what they were, a baseball card, a ball and a brick, match his completely. That means, when Sammy Jordan opened that package, those three items, if they were where they were supposed to be, would have been lying on that table.
 

MCCRACKEN: Lieutenant, I don't know what you're getting at. I'm looking at this photo and I can see the brick lying on the floor.
 

COLUMBO: That's exactly right, Mr. McCracken. The brick is lying on the floor right beside the ruins of the table. And that's exactly why there's a problem.
 

ROSS: (Keeping up his angry facade, but already he's starting to feel panicked inside) Huh?
 

COLUMBO: Let me tell you what happened to those other items that were on the desk. The baseball card for instance. We found it on the floor. Look what happened to it. (Pulls out an object encased in plastic. He hands it to McCracken) It's been blackened to the point where you can hardly recognize much of it. And here's the ball. Also found on the floor where it fell off after the blast. (Pulls out another plastic encased object and hands it to McCracken who has already handed the card to Ross. The GM doesn't look at it. He's still staring at Columbo). The ball has also been blackened considerably by the force of the explosion. The pattern with the baseball card, and the autographed ball is the same. Agreed?
 

ROSS: (mumbles) Agreed. (His mumbling tone, causes McCracken to turn and glance at him with an expression of alarm).
 

COLUMBO: Then we come to the brick. Probably the most important of the three artifacts in terms of its value to baseball history. Because there's more than just one Mickey Mantle card in existence. And there's more than just one autographed ball of the 55 Dodgers in existence. (Points with emphasis) But there's only one cornerstone brick from Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, and that's this one. (Pulls out final object) And if this had been subjected to the same force of the explosion as the card and the ball were, then this rare piece of history would be gone forever. But take a good look at it gentlemen. Notice that there is not a single blackened mark on it. Absolutely nothing to indicate that it received so much as a scratch from the explosion. And if it had been on the table at the time of the explosion, the blast force should have been enough to knock it to the floor where it should have broke into multiple pieces. And yet, it managed to not only not get a mark on it from the blast residue, it also managed to fall all the way to the floor as though it made a soft landing.
 

ROSS: (Angrily holds up a hand and starting to sound desperate) Now wait a damned minute, Columbo! Wait a damned minute, all you're doing is proving that someone moved the brick before the blast and put it back afterwards. You can't prove it was me!
 

COLUMBO: (Looks him in the eye) Oh yes I can, Mr. Ross. You see, there's one other thing you forgot. When the blast went off and you fell and cut yourself on the fragments from the mirror, you ended up tearing away part of the leather gloves you were wearing at the time. We found pieces of those gloves at the scene, and we've matched them to the middle fingertip area. That means when you reached into your pocket and put the brick back by the table, your exposed right middle fingertip was touching that brick.
 

[Ross freezes in horror. McCracken is stunned. Kennicutt and Shaw are both staring at Ross with deep expressions of hatred. With a satisfied air, the Dodger owner picks up the notice that had been handed to him earlier and contemptuously tears it up]
 

COLUMBO: That's right, Mr. Ross. You left a perfect middle fingerprint on that brick. We let the fact that we'd discovered signs of the killer wearing gloves weigh too heavily on us, because it never occurred to us that the killer would do something as stupid as touch an object after he'd ripped them, and after the explosion when his first concern would be getting away. (Pauses) But you had too much regard for baseball history to keep you from doing something that stupid, and that love of the game is going to ultimately get you the death penalty, since I can't imagine Reverend Roberts and his supporters insisting on anything less from the DA.
 

MCCRACKEN: (Turning to Ross and rising) You lying son-of-a-bitch, you. (Turns to Columbo) Columbo, accept my apologies for being duped again.
 

[Gets up and walks out, leaving Ross alone to face the contemptuous hate he sees from Kennicutt and Shaw and the cold stares from Columbo and Frazier. He lowers his head and now has the look of a trapped animal]
 

FRAZIER: (picking up the phone) I want two officers brought in to formally book Mr. Ross. Oh.....and tell Reverend Roberts, that before he gives his press conference, he should stop by for a talk with me.
 

[Columbo is still staring at Ross with contempt, but he also allows himself to shake his head with a trace of sadness at how a man who had such love for the game of baseball could have been motivated to do something so horrible and heinous]
 

Scene Twenty Five. Columbo, now with his raincoat on, is walking alongside Kennicutt and Shaw as they head for the owner's limousine in the parking lot.
 

KENNICUTT: Well, Lieutenant, you've done it again.
 

COLUMBO: (Shrugs) I should have thought of it sooner. Too much assumption about the evidence can sometimes make you miss the solution to the crime and that's what almost happened here.
 

KENNICUTT: But it all turned out well in the end. And that's all that should count. (They stop by the car) Lieutenant, I was wondering if maybe you could accompany Steve and me to my office. To borrow a phrase of yours, there's just one more thing you're needed for.
 

COLUMBO: Me, sir?
 

KENNICUTT: Yes. I've arranged a little get-together in my office for this afternoon between Mr. and Mrs. Jordan and Tanya White. Now that the truth has been established about who killed Sammy and why, it's time there was a clearing of the air between them. Time for some reconciliation to come out of this tragedy. And I think you should be there to help them see things in a new light.
 

COLUMBO: (Smiling) Mr. Kennicutt, it would be my pleasure.
 

[Columbo gets into the limousine with Kennicutt and Shaw. The door closes and the Gil Melle Columbo theme plays as the limousine starts up and pulls away]