No Way to Treat a Lady
New York City, 1968: A priest walks briskly up the sidewalk, whistling an odd little tune. He turns in at the entrance of a comfortable old apartment building, and heads up the stairs. Kate Palmer (Lee Remick) is coming down the stairs. "Top of the morning to you, young lady," he says, in a lilting Irish accent, and she replies, "Hello, Father," as they pass each other. The priest stops in front of Apartment 2B, and knocks. Alma Mulloy (Martine Bartlett) answers, a plump, middle-aged lady in a house dress and hair curlers. The priest introduces himself as Father McDowell, and she lets him in. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she tells him apologetically that if he's there about the church, she's no longer a Catholic...she lost her faith after her husband died. He acknowledges that most of us suffer in this vale of tears, and launches into a rambling discourse about his sainted mother, and what a beautiful, voluptuous woman she was. "But she had a delicate spot on her body," he says, "just there," and he touches Mrs. Mulloy on the ribs, and she giggles and squirms. He touches the spot again, and again she giggles and squirms. He swiftly moves around in back of the chair where she's sitting, and begins tickling her vigorously with both hands, until she is screaming and writhing with laughter. Suddenly his hands close around her throat, and he laughs like a hyena while he strangles the life out of her. When he is done, he kisses her on the forehead, and murmurs softly, "So, now, Mama, you rest in peace." He drags her body into the bathroom and seats her on the toilet. He finds a tube of lipstick and carefully paints a set of full, red, "Cupid's Bow" lips on her forehead. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom for a last look at his handiwork, blows poor Mrs. Mulloy a kiss and leaves. Morris Brummel (George Segal) is getting dressed in the apartment he shares with his mother. Mrs. Brummel is nagging him about his eating habits, his appearance, his profession (cop). She compares him to his older brother: married, three children, a doctor, making a thousand dollars a day...and all she gets from Morris is heartbreak. Morris, clearly accustomed to this, offers only token resistance. The phone rings, and he answers: his boss, Lieutenant Dawson (David Doyle), is calling to tell him that one of the other detectives has fallen ill, and Morris has been assigned to the Mulloy homicide in his place. Christopher Gill (Rod Steiger) comes downstairs to breakfast, a well-to-do, middle-aged bachelor, living a quiet, orderly life. Nevertheless, we see he is the man who strangled Mrs. Mulloy the previous day. He sits down at his dining room table, and his quiet, efficient housekeeper, Mrs. Fitts (Irene Daily), brings him his morning newspaper. He finds what he's looking for near the end of the second section, but it doesn't make him happy. He calls the newspaper to complain about the placement and brevity of the paragraph announcing the murder of Mrs. Mulloy. An assistant editor replies that it was probably due to the fact that they were racing a deadline. "May I ask who's calling?" he says. Gill hangs up. "No, you may not," he mutters. Morris arrives at Mrs. Mulloy's apartment, swarming with police, technicians and reporters. He finds the super and asks which tenant saw the priest at Mrs. Mulloy's door. He replies, "3E, directly above." As they head upstairs, a reporter asks Morris if he can get a quote. Morris tells him no, unless he wants to print that the murder was well-planned and well-executed. Kate is slow to answer the door, and she is still half asleep...but undeniably lovely. Morris asks if she can describe the priest. "If you've seen one, you've seen them all," she replies. He asks if he had any distinguishing features. "You mean, like a big nose? I can't remember. But you've got kind of a sweet-looking nose, there, yourself," she adds flirtatiously. Then she realizes that she's barely dressed in a rather revealing nightgown. She tells him she's going back to bed, and he should come back later. "I meant that about your nose," she says, with a little smile, as she stretches out on her bed. Morris leaves, but pauses in the hall just outside her door...to feel his nose. Later in the day, after Mrs. Brummel has seen the papers, she calls Morris: "I am sick at my heart when my own son goes looking at dead women's naked bodies. I tell you, Morris, it is no way to treat a lady." Mrs. Himmel (Ruth White), a plump, middle-aged German lady, has just fixed a tray for herself and settled down in front of her TV, when there's a knock at her door. She answers, and a gray-haired German plumber (Gill) tells her apologetically, "I have to pound on your water pipes." "Oh, no," says Mrs. Himmel, "Not on MY pipes...you go somewhere else." She starts to shut the door, but he interrupts, "What do you mean, go somewhere else? That's the trouble with the world. No one has any sympathy for anyone else, anymore. Well, I'll tell you something, it was a sad day when I left Frankfurt." He turns to leave. "Frankfurt!" Mrs. Himmel exclaims, "I'm from Frankfurt, too!" "Well, it's a small world," says the plumber, and turns back, smiling. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she says, contritely, and lets him in. He heads for the kitchen, but stops when he sees the cake on her tray. "Baumkuchen!" he exclaims, "I haven't had baumkuchen since I left Frankfurt!" "Have a piece," she says, kindly. She asks if he'd like to look at some old photos of Frankfurt. He directs her to sit on the couch, so he can stand behind her and look over her shoulder. "Look, look, look!" he exclaims, pointing, "There's my friend, Fritz, right there...he's waving to you..." Mrs. Himmel looks closer, confused. "He's saying, 'Goodbye, Mrs. Himmel...auf wiedersehen'." He kisses her on the cheek. And in the next scene, poor Mrs. Himmel is seated on the toilet in her bathroom, with "Cupid's Bow" lips painted on her forehead. The plumber surveys his handiwork from the doorway. Morris is in the squad room, looking through fingerprint reports. Another detective, Monaghan (Val Bisoglio) asks what he's still doing here...it's past 10 p.m....asks why he doesn't get married. "You sound like my mother," says Morris. The phone rings and he answers. Gill introduces himself as Hans Schultz. "At least, that's who I am today," he says, "but last week I was Father Kevin McDowell." "What do you want?" asks Morris impatiently. "I just want to tell you," says Gill, slowly, "that I'm in Mrs. Himmel's apartment, and she is...quite dead." Momentarily stunned, Morris recovers quickly. He attracts Monaghan's attention, who quietly picks up his own phone and requests a trace. Morris sets out to keep Gill talking as long as he can. But Gill, lying on Mrs. Himmel's bed and enjoying himself immensely, lets Morris know that he's familiar with call tracing, and knows just how long he can stay on the line before they locate him. He tells Morris that he liked the quote in the newspaper, about Mrs. Mulloy's murder being well-planned and well-executed. He gives Morris Mrs. Himmel's address, so he can come and see that her murder is well up to his previous standard..."And I want you to put that in the newspaper," he adds. "In fact, I insist on it." And he hangs up. The police, the technicians, and the reporters all swarm over to Mrs. Himmel's apartment. Morris looks at Mrs. Himmel, and turns away, disgusted and discouraged. Next day, Gill is seated at his dining room table, humming his tune. Mrs. Fitts brings in his daily newspaper. This time, what he's looking for is splashed all over the second page, and he smiles as he reads it all. Kate Palmer has come to the precinct, to look at mug shots. Once again, she hasn't been much help..."Some people remember faces," she says, "with me, it's names." Morris offers to take her home, and they catch a bus at a nearby stop. She asks if he's a good detective; he replies modestly that he thinks so. And she teases him, saying she doubts it, since he'd insisted on her coming in even though she'd told him she wouldn't be any help. "You know what I think?" she says, impudently, "I think you just wanted to see me again." Morris starts to protest...she laughs and accuses him of fibbing. "Well," he finally admits, "I might have fibbed a little." They both smile. She looks around, and tells him this is their stop. They get off the bus, and as it pulls away, the camera shifts to the back of the bus, and we see that Gill is there, watching them through the rear window...in another disguise...on his way to another victim. The camera cuts back to Morris and Kate, walking along the street. "Why did you move?" he asks. "The ghost of Mrs. Mulloy finally got to me," she says. She remarks on what a fancy name he has. "What's your first name?" she asks. "Morris," he answers, sheepishly. She laughs..."I'll bet everyone calls you Moe". "They do," he admits, and they both laugh. They stop at the door of her apartment building, and he tells her goodbye. "Was there something you wanted to ask?" she prompts him. He hesitates, knowing he's not in this beautiful, elegant woman's league...then finally says, "I guess not." Then he blurts out, "Oh, well...maybe I could call you...say, Saturday night?" "Don't bother," she replies, poker-faced. "Huh?" he says, a bit confused. "Calling," she finishes with a smile. "I'll be ready at eight." He smiles, too, and walks on. She looks fondly after him, still chuckling over the name Moe Brummel. Gill walks up the hallway of another apartment building, dressed in a navy-blue jacket and yellow slacks, carrying a striped hat box. He pauses in front of a door and rings the bell. "Miss Belle Poppie?" he calls, in a lisping, effeminate voice. Inside the apartment, a middle-aged woman in a lace caftan (Barbara Baxley) gets up from her typewriter, and asks, "Who is it?" "It's Dorian Smith, dear," he replies, "I've brought your wig." Miss Poppie is puzzled. Dorian assures her she won a contest after signing a coupon at the drugstore. She opens the door about six inches, keeping it on the chain, and asks, "No strings?" "Absolutely none," he replies. "All right, I'll take it," she says, holding out her hand. "Oh, no," says Dorian. "I have to fit it for you...otherwise you'll look absolutely dreadful." She hesitates, but after making him promise he'll speak in a soft, low voice, so not to disturb her five cats, she lets him in. He directs her to sit on the couch, and takes a mirror off the wall so she can watch as he fits the wig. After some adjustment he asks, "Now...what do you think of that?" "I don't like it," she says. "Well, that's because I haven't finished," he tells her. "It needs to be fitted in here, and tucked in here, by your neck...you do have a lovely neck, don't you..." His facial expression hardens and his hands move into position...but just before they close on her throat the front door opens, and another middle-aged woman bustles into the room. "It's only me, Belle," she says, "and look what I brought for the babies!" She produces a new, deluxe scratching post. Belle admires it, then introduces the woman as her sister, Sylvia (Doris Roberts). Belle tells Sylvia that she's won a wig, and Mr. Smith is here to fit it for her. "Do you like it?" she asks Sylvia. "No," says Sylvia, bluntly. "But I guess if you won it, you won it." She looks at Dorian, and asks suspiciously, "and you're absolutely sure it's free?" He decides two Poppie sisters are more than he can handle. "Of course," he replies. "She gets the wig, and a custom fitting, and if she's still not happy with it, at the end of two months she'll get every penny of her money back." The two women begin to protest, with Belle saying, "That's dishonest!" He shouts, "Absolutely no one ever calls me dishonest!" He gathers up the wigs and the hatbox and storms over to the door. Sylvia calls him a homo. He pauses with his hand on the door knob, says, "Doesn't make you a bad person," and flounces out. Morris is at home, sitting at the table, reading crime scene reports and whistling softly. His mother brings in two plates, sets one down in front of him, and asks point blank, "So, who is this girl you're thinking about?" He tries to change the subject...asks if they didn't have kneidlach last night. "Loss of appetite...that's the first sign," she declares. He asks her to just lay off for once, and she says, "Temper...that's the second sign." She asks if the girl is Jewish and Morris admits he doesn't know. Mrs. Brummel is distraught at the idea of Morris dating a shiksa! They are wrangling back and forth when the phone rings...Morris answers. It's Gill, using his Dorian voice...he's calling from a wall phone just outside his latest victim's bathroom. "Oh, Morris," he says, "I've been a bad boy, again." At first Morris doesn't realize who he's talking to, and Gill blasts him for forgetting so soon. In his Dorian character, he is much more volatile, less controlled. He rambles about his brilliant characterizations, even giving Morris a sample of his "uncanny" W.C. Fields impersonation. Morris asks quietly if they can talk, one human being to another. "Oh, no," says Gill, with a shaky little laugh. "And I'm not going to tell you where I am this time, either...you'll have to figure it out for yourself." And he hangs up. They find the latest victim's apartment. A technician finds a few strands of long, blonde hair that don't match the victim...asks if there was a wig found in any of her stuff. They tell him no. "I don't know," complains Morris, "how can you figure with a pervert like this?" A lurking reporter asks Morris if he can quote him on that...Morris yells no, and has the uniformed officers escort him out. Back at the station, Morris calls Kate to cancel their date. The moment she hears his voice, she begins to talk excitedly about the dinner she's prepared...she watched that Julia Child woman, and has to admit it smells pretty great. Morris tells her, apologetically, that he can't make it, he has to work. Disappointed, annoyed, she says, "Oh, well...okay. Just a small, crummy dinner. It probably tastes rotten, anyway." "Maybe I could come over later," he suggests. "What for?" she retorts. "I don't know," he stammers, "I thought...maybe..." "Morris," she says, with finality, "I'm going to hang up now. Goodbye." "Goodbye," he murmurs, dejectedly. "Morris?" she says at the last moment, "Tonight you be careful, all right?" and then hangs up. Morris's face lights up..."Do you know what she said to me?" he asks Monaghan. "She said, 'Be careful.' Isn't that beautiful?" Gill is on his way to work, walking down the sidewalk with his briefcase, whistling his tune. He stops at a newsstand and buys a paper. He opens a wrought-iron gate, goes down the alley beyond, and enters the building...which turns out to be a theatre. He takes a private elevator to his office, takes the two wigs he was using as props out of his briefcase and puts them away. Then he opens his newspaper to read his latest notices...to be greeted by the headline, "Killer is a Sexual Pervert." Morris is at his desk, on the phone, with a tape recorder running and several detectives standing around listening. Gill is on the other end of the line, so angry he is almost in tears. "You had no right to call me a pervert, and you had no right to bring my mother into the story!" he screams as Hans Schultz. "My mother and I were famously close! And we LOVED each other! I want a retraction!" "I can't do that," says Morris. "I don't care," Gill screams, "I want a retraction printed, or you will suffer the consequences! I am NOT a pervert...and you will NOT dishonor my mother!" Morris, Monaghan, and Lieutenant Dawson are in the office of Inspector Haines (Murray Hamilton), listening to the tape of this conversation. The inspector asks Morris if he called the Strangler a sexual pervert. "Well, not for the record, sir," Morris replies. "Our own expert on Freud," says the inspector, wearily. "Brummel, I'm taking you off the case. In fact, I want you to stay home for a few days. You see, we can't print a retraction for your opinions, but maybe if we take you off the case, that will placate this madman." He continues, telling them he wants additional safety measures taken, to include dispatching officers to hotels and apartment houses that cater to women. "Tell them to stay inside," he says. "Tell them to keep their doors locked." A uniformed policeman, his back to the camera, is knocking on an apartment door. A middle-aged woman in a green suit and mustard-colored hat comes out of another door and walks by, glaring at him. A middle-aged lady in a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head opens the door, and is startled to see him. "What have I done?" she asks. "You haven't done anything, ma'am," he says, in a familiar voice. "Officer Brummel, 19th Precinct...I'm just giving out some precautionary information to women who live alone. May I come in and explain?" "Oh, yes, please do," she says, smiling, and steps to one side to let him in. The camera switches to the officer's face: it is Gill. "Thank you, ma'am," he says, and walks in. Morris is at home, getting ready to go out, bantering back and forth with his mother. The phone rings, and Mrs. Brummel answers. Gill asks to speak with Morris, using a Cary Grant accent. "Morris," Mrs. Brummel whispers, "It's HIM!" Morris takes the phone from her, and says "Yeah?" " 'Ello, Morrie, 'ow are you?" says Gill. "Listen...I think it's terrible the way the police are treating you. You tell 'em I'm not going to talk to anyone else but you. You tell them to put you back on the case or I'm liable to be a very naughty boy again tonight." "Hey," says Morris, "Don't do that, come on!" "I've got the simply sensational idea of guarding that woman what said she saw me dressed up in a police uniform," says Gill. He recites a bad limerick about Morris and the Strangler, then says "Cheery-bye" and hangs up. Morris hurries down to the precinct, and tries to sneak a look at the Strangler file. Monaghan catches him at it. He persuades Monaghan to tell him the new witness's name, in spite of the trouble it could cause both of them. "Her name is Pearl Menzel," says Monaghan. "You probably won't find her, though. I think she left town as soon as she talked to the newspapers. Or else she's boozing it up in some gin mill." Morris arrives at one of the bars she is known to frequent, a rundown neighborhood dive, and asks the bartender (Val Avery) if he's seen Pearl Menzel. The bartender says no. "Are you positive?" asks Morris. "As positive as I am that you're a cop," says the bartender, evenly. Morris decides no help is forthcoming from this quarter, and leaves. Shortly afterward, Sadie comes in: a tall, plump "lady" wearing a sleeveless black sheath, stiletto heels, a '60's bubble hairdo, and lots of make-up. She sits at the bar and orders a double Pink Lady in a suspiciously deep voice. While the bartender is getting it, she turns around and tells a bad joke as a come-on to a couple of guys sitting at a table. They rebuff her, and she turns to the man sitting next to her, and recites a bad limerick about the Strangler. A middle-aged woman at the end of the bar who's been sniffling into a handkerchief begins to cry, loudly. "Knock it off," growls the bartender to Sadie. "Can't you see she's scared to death?" Sadie retorts, "Well, who isn't?" "Yeah, but she says she actually saw him," says the bartender. "Oh," says Sadie, chastened. She goes around the bar to the woman, to comfort her. She asks if the woman has anywhere to go. The woman sobs no. Sadie invites her to come home with her. "I just live across the street," she says, "He won't attack two of us together." The woman hesitates. "Come on," coaxes Sadie, "We'll watch TV, have a few drinks...we'll have a ball." The woman finally nods, and they walk out together, with Sadie supporting the smaller woman as she sobs into her handkerchief. Morris has been checking the bar next door...he sees the women come out and cross the street, and on a sudden hunch, he runs back down into the first bar, and asks the bartender who the hooker was. "What hooker?" asks the bartender, stolidly. "The hooker that just left here!" says Morris, exasperatedly. "How would I know?" retorts the bartender. Morris turns to a couple of apple-cheeked frat boys sitting at the bar, and says, "Say, are you two familiar with the legal age for drinking in this state?" "All right, all right," says the bartender. "She just moved into that brownstone across the street, basement apartment." Sadie settles the woman on her couch, still quietly crying. "You know what I think," Sadie says, "I think you should call the cops. You need to get yourself some protection." She lights a cigarette, and heads for the refrigerator. "I can't," sobs the woman. "Well, it's up to you and your own conscience," says Sadie, "but just remember, he's killed four women." "Five," sobs the woman. "Five?" repeats Sadie, surprised. "I didn't know it was five." "It is now," the other woman growls in a masculine voice. She sits up, and we see it's Gill. "Who was that woman with her...was it Pearl Menzel?" Morris asks. "No," says the bartender, "THAT'S Pearl Menzel," and points to a woman in a green suit with a mustard-colored hat at the other end of the bar. "Well, keep her here," says Morris, and runs out. He crosses the street, and runs down the stairs to Sadie's apartment. The door is open. He draws his gun and cautiously enters...the room is a wreck. He finds Sadie in the bathroom, sprawled on the toilet, a hasty "Cupid's Bow" smeared on her forehead. On the mirror above the sink, scrawled in red lipstick and underlined three times, are the words: "Reinstate Morris". They are back in Inspector Haines's office. "I want all press releases on this latest murder to include the fact that Detective Brummel has been put in charge of the case again," he says. "I'm doing this solely at the recommendation of our expert, Dr. Shaffer. But I want everyone here to know that I still consider Lieutenant Dawson to be in charge." Gill walks into Sardi's. He is greeted cordially by the maître d, and shown to his usual table. His waiter asks what he would like, and Gill replies he'd like something French. And he asks for a telephone. "May I 'ave Monsieur Brummel, s'il vous plait?" he says, a la Maurice Chevalier. "Maurice Dubois 'ere...'ow do you like my new accent? I am very 'appy that they...uh, 'ow you say...reinstate you. C'est bon, ca." "That's very good, very French." says Morris. He is surrounded by detectives again, and Lieutenant Dawson, and the tape is running. "How about a little more?" "Ah, no, no, no, mon ami," replies Gill, "because if I take too much time you trace the call. I just called to say I start my vacation, and I promise not to be a bad boy. I give you my word of honor. A tout à l'heure." "Hold on...Can't you wait just a second?" asks Morris. But Gill is gone. Kate is leading a tour at the Lincoln Center, where she works. She passes Morris, sitting on the edge of a planter box, without acknowledging him. He gets up and follows after the group. As she is talking about the Mark Chagall painting, he moves a little off to one side where only she can see him, and without any change in his expression, opens the right side of his suit jacket and shows her his gun in its holster...she starts to laugh, barely able to finish. She leads the tour group away, and Morris follows, apparently forgiven. They are both unaware that Gill is watching from across the plaza. They have lunch together, at an outdoor cafe. "So," she says, "you finally found out." He asks, "Found out what?" She replies, "That I'm the Strangler. How else can you spare me these few precious minutes? Oh, at first that was one of the things I liked about you, that you didn't try to make a pass at me right off. But don't you think you're carrying a good thing a little too far?" He says nothing, still a little shy with this lovely woman. "Morris, would it bother you if we stopped seeing each other?" she asks. "Yes, of course," he says, vehemently...but seems unable to say anything further. "What do I do wrong?" she asks, frustrated. "Is a Jewish cop so wrong for me?" "The thing is," he says, and hesitates..."I want to show you my yacht." "Yacht?!" she says in disbelief. "My yacht," he replies, firmly. They are on a police launch, cruising around the harbor. They sit down in the stern, look at each other and smile. "To tell you the truth, Morris, I've had him," says Kate. "Had who?" he asks. "Randy Beautiful," she replies. "And he was beautiful, old Randy...good future, good family...good everything. And then one day, I don't know...the message just came to me. I turned over and tapped him on the top of his beautiful head, and said, 'You only love me for my body, not for myself...for my mind.' And he screamed, 'What mind? Any thought of yours would die of loneliness.' So I got up, got dressed, packed my little suitcase, and I left Randy Beautiful...AND his good family, AND his good future. Tell me the truth, Morris...Do I have a good mind?" Morris replies earnestly, "You have a brilliant mind." "Are you tender, Morris?" she asks, wistfully. "You can have me if you say yes." "Yes," he says, firmly. "Do you love me, Morris?" she asks. He hesitates a moment, then replies, "Yes, I think so." She smiles and says, "Kiss me, Morris". He leans over and kisses her, a bit awkwardly because of the way they're sitting. They both stand and kiss again...and Morris IS tender...and they keep on kissing. Morris is sitting at his desk, alone in the squad room. A uniformed officer brings in Mr. Kupperman (Michael Dunn). He stands at Morris's desk and says, "Ok, you got me." "For what?" Morris asks, blankly. "What do you think?!" snaps Mr. Kupperman. "You're the Strangler?" Morris asks, incredulously. He can be forgiven his doubt...Mr. Kupperman is, after all, just under four feet tall. "I killed them all," says Mr. Kupperman, smiling proudly. "Mr. Kupperman..." Morris begins. "You be careful what you're going to say," interrupts Mr. Kupperman, "I'm very sensitive on certain subjects." Morris begins again..."Well, naturally, I wouldn't bring it up if it didn't have some bearing on the case, but...you're a midget. The few witnesses we have claim that he was of normal...uh...that is to say...he was taller than you." "You see how I fooled them," says Mr. Kupperman, eagerly. "Did you talk to me several times on the phone?" asks Morris. "That's right," says Mr. Kupperman. Morris hands him the mike to the tape recorder on his desk, and says, "Imitate Barry Fitzgerald." Mr. Kupperman does so...very badly. Morris reaches for the mike, and Mr. Kupperman says, "Wait...I can do W.C. Fields." This effort is only slightly better. Morris takes the mike from him and says, "Mr. Kupperman, I just don't believe you're the Strangler." "Bigot! You're a bigot!" declares Mr. Kupperman, and the conversation deteriorates into a shouting match. Lieutenant Dawson's door opens: he pokes his head out, looks at them, nods slightly, and goes back inside. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Kupperman," says Morris, quietly, "but you're going to have to leave now." "You're turning me loose to murder again," says Mr. Kupperman, bitterly. "All right, but this is what it's going to say in tomorrow's paper." He grabs a piece of chalk off Morris's desk and writes "6th Victim" on one of the partitions. He throws the chalk at Morris and stamps out. Morris stares at the words for a moment, then he knocks on Lt. Dawson's door. "I've got an idea," he says. "It's kind of crazy, but it just might shake things up." Gill is seated at his grand piano, playing a lovely, peaceful melody. Mrs. Fitts brings in a vase filled with flowers. He asks her if his airline tickets have arrived, and she says yes. He tells her that the flowers are lovely. "Romance," he says, smiling a little as he plays..."Romance is the thing that makes men hold, and women bold, Mrs. Fitts." "If you read the papers, there isn't much love in them these days," she responds, stepping outside of her quiet, professional demeanor, for once. "Riots, and wars...and all these murders. It's getting so I don't dare set foot outside anymore. Imagine, Mr. Gill, one man killing six women!" "What do you mean?" says Gill, startled. "Here," she says, and hands him his paper. The headline reads "Sixth Victim". "Killed the same way as the others," she says, "with the lipstick across the forehead and everything." "Yes," he says, slowly, preoccupied, "yes. Uh, could I have my tea, now?" "Yes, of course...I'm sorry," she says, stepping back behind her mask, leaving him alone to contemplate this new development. He calls from a public phone booth. He tells Morris in his German accent that he didn't do it...he did NOT kill that woman. "Say you believe me," he says. "I can't say that, because I don't believe you," replies Morris. The detectives are standing around him, the tape is running. "It's a copycat," insists Gill. "I did everything up to now, and he comes along and wants to take credit, and it's not fair!" Morris, enjoying the upper hand for once, replies, "This is getting a little too weird for me, I think I'll hang up now." "Don't you hang up on me," hisses Gill, "or I'll kill a hundred women...I promise you that." He tries to calm down, so he can reason with Morris. "A little commons sense will tell you that it's a copycat. Did he call you on the phone? Did he tell you where the body was?" "Neither did you the first and fourth time," counters Morris. "But you forget," says Gill. "I've given you my word of honor that I'll stop." Morris murmurs, "For all that's worth." A uniformed officer enters the squad room and says, quietly, "Pan Am Building, downtown." The lieutenant and a couple of other detectives rush out. Gill continues to argue his innocence regarding the sixth victim...but Morris interrupts, saying, "This time we got a full description of you. You're very short...you have blonde hair...a wide nose...bushy eyebrows." Gill laughs, and says, "That's very funny, you see, because first of all I have brown hair, brown eyes, and I'm approximately six feet tall, and..." then, finally realizing, "...and you are clever. Oh, Mr. Brummel, you are very, very clever." He hangs up. "But you're not quite clever enough," he adds, and leaves the building...swiftly, but not hastily. Uniformed officers arrive shortly afterward, and round up a few suspects. But when Morris, Monaghan and Lt. Dawson arrive, it's obvious they didn't get the one they wanted. Morris and Kate arrive in the hallway just outside Morris's apartment. "Ok, I think I'm ready," says Kate. "But tell me, Morris, do you love me?" "Yes," he replies. "Madly, deeply? she asks. "Madly, deeply," he confirms. "Then I can move mountains," she says. He unlocks the door and they go inside. After introductions, Kate says to Mrs. Brummel, "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you...and to see your lovely home. Morris, look at this," she says, gesturing, "Isn't it wonderful? It's just so Jewish." Mrs. Brummel is rather flummoxed by this comment, not sure it's a compliment. "Jews always have the best apartments," explains Kate. "The best taste, the best apartments...it follows." "Are you Jewish?" asks Mrs. Brummel, brightening. "I have been studying to be Jewish since I was 14 years old," says Kate, as they move into the living room and sit down. "Off!" Kate exclaims suddenly. "What?" says Mrs. Brummel, startled. "Look at him," Kate gestures toward Morris. "He has his foot up on your coffee table. Off!" she orders, and he moves his foot. "Lummox," she murmurs. "Honestly, I don't know why I go out with him. On the money he makes we can't do anything. A Jewish cop, can you imagine anything so ridiculous?" "I keep telling him that!" says Mrs. Brummel, amazed. "Oh, but your son, Franklin," says Kate, with a smile. "I wish I'd met him before it was too late. With a son like him, you don't mind having this one so much. But he is good for one thing," she adds. "Morris, light my cigarette," she orders. He jumps to his feet, comes to stand in front of her, with his back to his mother. He gives her a faint, conspiratorial smile while he lights her cigarette. She smiles back, and blows him a secret little air-kiss. "Now, go away," she says. He walks dejectedly into the kitchen. "He's good for ordering around," says Kate to Mrs. Brummel, "for yelling at and ordering around." "He is," agrees Mrs. Brummel, delighted. "I can see we're the same person," says Kate. "Yes, we are," agrees Mrs. Brum
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