The Forgotten Lady Remix – CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

Columbo and Kitsuragi drove separately to Wheeler’s house that evening. Kitsuragi was shocked to see Columbo in a tuxedo and bow tie. Kitsuragi had dressed up as well, of course: he wore a light blue vest and tie, white shirt, black suit jacket and pants.

“Wow,” commented Kitsuragi. “You cleaned up nicely!”

“Thanks! You look very fine yourself,” replied Columbo.

“Thank you,” said Kitsuragi. He covered a grin with his hand when he notice Columbo had three green cigars in place of a pocket handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket. Kitsuragi had a white handkerchief with a dark blue border folded neatly in his pocket. He rang the doorbell.

Raymond answered promptly. “Good evening, Sirs.”

“Good evening,” said Kitsuragi.

“Is that Mr. Diamond’s motor carriage?” asked Columbo.

“Yes it is,” confirmed Raymond.

“Where is Miss Wheeler?” Columbo asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready,” replied Raymond.

“Where’s Mr. Diamond?”

“Uh, he’s on the patio I think. There’s champagne in the living room; help yourself,” invited Raymond and he gestured inside, then closed the door behind the two detectives. “Miss Wheeler will be down right away.”

“Thank you,” said Columbo.

“You’re looking unusually elegant, I must say,” remarked Raymond.

Columbo walked a short ways into the foyer then circled back. “How long has Mr. Diamond been here?”

“Just a few minutes,” replied Raymond.

Kitsuragi continued on toward the champagne. He noticed Alma polishing a fork on her apron as she set the table in a grasshopper green dining room to his left. To his right, Diamond stood watching him. Columbo followed Kitsuragi in and turned to see Diamond, who wore a charcoal gray tuxedo and a red velvet bow tie.

“Well good evening!” greeted Columbo.

“Good evening,” said Diamond.

“Good evening,” echoed Kitsuragi.

Columbo pointed to the stairs. “They say she’ll be right down.” He pulled one of the cigars out of his pocket then looked at Diamond. “Care for a cigar?”

Diamond shook his head.

Columbo looked at Kitsuragi. “How about you?”

Kitsuragi considered it. “Sure, why not.”

“I oughta give these things up,” Columbo said. “I just can’t seem to manage it.”

“I smoke one cigarette a day, usually as I’m going over my notes. It’s a bit of a ritual,” mentioned Kitsuragi.

Columbo nodded. He walked past Diamond into a blue living room with a white fireplace, a broad low coffee table painted blue and set with silver, and floral blue and white couches arranged around the coffee table. A bottle of champagne had its own raised silver bucket stand with a towel or napkin hung over a rung on one side. A large potted plant took up one corner near a window. The couches and table stood on a large, rectangular white rug with a broad blue border. Candles and vases on the mantle stood to either side of a framed painting of a castle. The fire wasn’t lit.

“The running time of this film is one hour and forty-five minutes,” said Columbo. “I have a problem with this case, Sir.”

Columbo stopped and looked up when he heard Wheeler’s voice from behind Diamond. Diamond turned around to face her.

“Oh, Raymond,” Wheeler was saying. “I think we should put the hot hors d’oeuvres in the viewing room. Someone may wanna nibble during the screening.”

“Very good, Madam,” said Raymond.

Wheeler walked around the corner holding her arms out. “Ned, darling.” She embraced Diamond. Wheeler wore a black dress with a sheer mantle, a doubled string of pearls around her neck, and matching dangling pearl earrings. She stepped back from Diamond and smiled at the detectives. “Lieutenant, you look simply smashing!” Wheeler said to Columbo, then to Kitsuragi, “And you, Lieutenant, are looking quite sharp. I love the blue.”

Columbo smiled and bowed his head as thanks. Kitsuragi nodded politely.

Wheeler spun to face Diamond and put her hands together in front of her. “Oh Ned, be a dear and pour some champagne.” She turned back to Columbo. “Now, where is your wife?”

“She’s a little under the weather, Madam,” replied Columbo.

“That is a shame,” sympathized Wheeler. “Well, as they say, I guess the show must go on. Did you tell Raymond which film you want to see?”

“Yes Madam,” confirmed Columbo. “I took care of that this afternoon.”

“Let me guess,” said Wheeler. She took a moment then said, “Walking My Baby.”

“How’d you know?” asked Columbo.

“I don’t know,” Wheeler replied. She was smiling brightly, clearly excited. “Maybe because it’s my favorite, too. Though I think Ned prefers Paradise.”

She turned to Diamond, who had approached carrying vintage coupe style wine glasses of champagne. Diamond’s expression was much more reserved than Wheeler’s glee.

“I like them both, Grace,” Diamond said as he handed Wheeler a glass. He passed another to Kitsuragi, and one to Columbo.

Wheeler lifted her glass for a toast. “To your enjoyment of the film.”

The detectives lifted their glasses in toast.

“Oh please excuse me.” Wheeler turned and rushed off toward the dining room. “I must tell Alma there’ll be only four for dinner. Alma? There’ll be four, dear.”

As Wheeler spoke to Alma in the next room, Columbo turned back to Diamond. “The running time for Walking My Baby is an hour and forty-five minutes,” said Columbo. “I even checked out another uncut print owned by a film museum. Hour and forty-five minutes.”

“So?” asked Diamond.

Columbo watched to see if Wheeler would come back.

“I’ll keep watch,” whispered Kitsuragi.

Wheeler was calling to the butler and rushing off to see to some other detail. Columbo spoke in a low voice so it wouldn’t carry. “How come the night Dr. Willis died it took two hours?”

“I don’t understand,” whispered Diamond.

Columbo leaned closer to Diamond and murmured, “The film runs an hour and three quarters, as I just said. The night Dr. Willis died it took two hours. I’m asking why.”

“Well, how do you know it ran two hours?” asked Diamond.

“Gentlemen,” whispered Kitsuragi.

Wheeler came back into the room. The three men all turned toward her.

“Something that might interest you,” Wheeler said as she walked in. “The original premier program. Oh, they turned out beautifully.” She put a hand on Kitsuragi’s arm. “We had them leather bound and they just came back.”

“Perhaps the lieutenants would like to see one,” said Diamond.

“Yes, I certainly would,” said Kitsuragi.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” said Wheeler. “I wonder where I put them. You’ll be amazed at the number of faces you’ll recognize. That’s what’s such fun!” She walked over to a cabinet with a screen of diagonally crisscrossed wooden bars and opened it to look for the programs.

“How do you know? How do you know it ran for two hours?” whispered Diamond, agitated.

Columbo turned his back to Wheeler and kept his voice quite low, lips barely moving. “Raymond told me that the film started at exactly eleven, and at one when The Jacques Motorson radio milieu was over he returned to the projection room and Miss Wheeler was still watching the film. It was just ending. Just a couple minutes past one.”

Kitsuragi watched Wheeler search for the programs. “I’m sure it will be fine. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Oh not at all!” replied Wheeler. She resumed searching. “No trouble.”

“From eleven to a couple minutes past one is better than two hours,” Columbo murmured.

Diamond focused then shook his head. “I can’t account for that.”

“Ned!” said Wheeler, walking back over. “Was your champagne properly chilled?”

“It’s fine, Grace,” said Diamond, nodding to her. “Thank you.”

Wheeler walked over to Kitsuragi and put her hand on his arm again. “You know who else likes champagne?” She looked back over her shoulder then leaned closer. “Raymond. Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t breathe a word about it,” promised Kitsuragi.

“Sure doesn’t show it!” said Columbo. “He coulda fooled me.”

Wheeler chuckled. “Yes, darling isn’t he?” She continued to search around for the programs.

Columbo walked away to another part of the room with his hand pressed to his head. Diamond pursued him across the living room.

“Anyway, what difference does it make?” Diamond asked. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, it means a great deal, Sir,” replied Columbo. He looked up at Diamond. “It goes to the very heart of the matter.”

Wheeler walked past and through a doorway. “Raymond, can I speak to you for a second? I can’t seem to find those programs that came today.” Her voice carried over from the next room. “Oh, never mind. Here they are; I found them.”

“Why the additional fifteen minutes?” Columbo asked Diamond. “That’s the question that first turned my suspicions towards Mrs. Wheeler. It has to be answered. It can’t be dismissed.” He sipped his champagne.

“Ned,” said Wheeler, walking back over. “Remember that Iilmaraan picture we did?” She held the program open for Diamond to see. “There was a tiny, tiny part of the hotel clerk. We weren’t even in the scene. Well, guess who it was?”

Diamond smiled. “I don’t know.”

“Donald Meek,” said Wheeler.

Diamond laughed softly. “Donald Meek.”

“I had no idea,” said Wheeler. She looked down at the program. “There’s Edward Arnold. I knew he was in it, but Donald Meek? Well, one second – I’ll find Walking My Baby.” She walked off again into another room.

Columbo walked over to the coffee table and Diamond followed him over. Kitsuragi stood near the doorway, watching for their hostess.

“It’s your job to answer questions, Lieutenant,” reminded Diamond.

“The film broke,” said Columbo.

“The film broke,” repeated Diamond.

“You can see the actual splice; you can see where the film was mended together. Thirty frames are missing,” added Columbo.

“Well, that’s innocent enough,” said Diamond. He nodded. “That accounts for missing time. The film broke and had to be repaired.”

“That depends on how long it takes to repair it, wouldn’t you say?” replied Columbo.

Kitsuragi cleared his throat to signal Wheeler’s approach.

“Gentlemen,” Wheeler said. She bowed with a radiant smile. “We are ready.” The others followed her to the doorway, where she stopped and held the program open. “Oh, that picture. It’s just marvelous of you,” she said to Diamond, “but it’s horrid, just awful of me.”

Kitsuragi looked over her shoulder at the program.

“Lieutenant, you want a laugh? Look at those shoes!” Wheeler said.

“They are funny, aren’t they?” said Kitsuragi with a smile.

“But you look pretty,” commented Columbo. He looked up from the picture to Wheeler and smiled. “They didn’t affect your eyes.”

Wheeler smiled and shook her head. “Oh my, you are a dear.” She shut the program and turned. “Well. The hors d’oeuvres are here; make yourselves comfortable.” She pointed to Kitsuragi’s drink. “Would you like your drink freshened?”

“No thank you,” said Kitsuragi.

“Okay, Lieutenant, why don’t you sit over there,” invited Wheeler, gesturing to the bright purple couch in the viewing room. The carpet was emerald green and the walls were a richly warm brown wood paneling. A glass-topped coffee table sat in front of the couch, set with the hors d’oeuvres in silver dishes and trays.

Diamond sat on the couch and Kitsuragi sat next to him. Columbo sat on Kitsuragi’s other side.

“You may start the film, Raymond,” said Wheeler.

“Very good, Madam,” said Raymond.

Wheeler sat down next to Diamond. The lights dimmed further into darkness. Wheeler lit up a cigarette. A beam of light shone through the rising smoke to a screen in front of them and music, slightly warped with age, burst into cheerful melody. On the screen, the title appeared over a view of the shoes of a gentleman walking beside a lady down a sidewalk. An orange glow of Kitsuragi’s cigar appeared in the darkness. Blue smoke drifted through the projected light over their heads. Columbo finished his champagne with a silent swig. The music jittered and white consumed the screen.

“Not now!” Wheeler tossed her cigarette into an ashtray and jumped up from the couch. She turned to go to the projector room.

“The hell is that?” Diamond asked when Wheeler had gone.

“That’s what happened the night her husband died,” said Columbo, looking past Kitsuragi to Diamond.

“You’re responsible for this,” concluded Diamond.

“Yes,” confirmed Columbo. He rose to his feet from the couch then leaned across the back of the couch to look through the window in the wall to the projector room. “I tampered with the film to make sure it would break.”

“You’ve lost me completely, Lieutenant,” said Diamond.

Columbo turned from the window to Diamond. “Let’s see how long it takes her to repair the film.” He turned back to the window. “Seems to know what she’s doing.”

Kitsuragi sipped his champagne and took a pocket watch from the inner pocket of his jacket. He tilted his head to try to get a good look at in the dark. Kitsuragi held the watch up into the light from the projector and made a note of the time.

“Knows how to work the splicer,” commented Columbo, and he turned back to Diamond. “You see, actually this is a very simple procedure. Even a child could do it.” He glanced in the window then got up and walked around to the hall just outside the projector room. “How are you doing, Miss Wheeler?”

“I could scream,” Wheeler replied from inside. “It-it, it makes me so mad I could scream.” Her voice came out haltingly. “I get nervous when things don’t…go right. But…it will be just a minute! I-I’m almost ready!”

Kitsuragi monitored the watch. “It’s been thirty seconds,” he reported.

“She said she’s almost done,” Columbo said and looked meaningfully at Diamond. “You see the problem? We have to account for fifteen minutes. Let’s say it takes her four minutes to repair the film.” He held up four fingers then gestured with his knuckles as he spoke. “How do we account for the remaining eleven minutes?” He paused. “It has to be one of four possibilities.” He walked back over to the couch. “She was sitting here watching the film and the film broke. One, she could go out in the kitchen and ask Raymond to fix it. We know she didn’t do that. Or two.” He sat down next to Kitsuragi. “She’s sitting here and the film breaks. And all by herself she sits here for eleven minutes and she watches a white screen.” He looked over at Diamond. “And then she decides to go in there and she fixes it. It takes four minutes.” Columbo looked back ahead and pointed at the screen. “Or three, it breaks. She goes back there, takes four minutes to fix it, then she stands on her head for eleven minutes. Or four.” He rose back up to his feet. “The film breaks…but she doesn’t know it. Because she is not in the screening room. She’s not watching the film. She’s upstairs in her husband’s bedroom firing a pistol.”

Diamond listened, frowning.

“And while she’s out of the room, this film is not running,” Columbo continued. “And that,” he swings a finger dramatically, “accounts for the eleven minutes. Now she comes back…and she sees that the film is broken. She takes four minutes to fix it, and that adds up to fifteen minutes that the film is not running. And that, Sir, is why the film took two hours instead of an hour and forty-five minutes.”

Diamond’s eyes lowered. Columbo walked past him to the hall to look into the projector room.

“She’s almost done,” Columbo said.

“It’s been about three minutes,” said Kitsuragi.

Columbo returned from the hall. “There’s no doubt she did it,” said Columbo quietly. “But I have a problem with this case.” He looked at Diamond then walked into the living room.

Kitsuragi set his empty wine glass down, got up, and walked with Diamond into the living room after Columbo. He paused next to his colleague and took an envelope from an inside pocket of his jacket. “We went looking in Dr. Willis’ files to see what we could find out about his health. We found this,” Kitsuragi lifted a folded piece of paper from the envelope then unfolded it, “under the name of Rosemary Landon.” He passed the sheet of paper to Diamond. “Now, as you can see, the patient has an inoperable aneurysm of the brain.” Kitsuragi pointed to the paper as Diamond read over it. “That’s a weak spot in the artery.”

“Rosemary Landon,” Diamond said slowly. He turned to Kitsuragi as it clicked. “Rosie!” It was the name of the character Wheeler had played in her films.

“Rosie,” repeated Kitsuragi. “That was Dr. Willis’s code name for his wife; he didn’t want her to know anything about it.”

“That is a progressive memory disease that knocks out the memory cells,” Columbo elaborated. “She can recall things from a long time ago, but she’s very shaky about anything now. That’s how I knew that Dr. Willis would never consent to her resuming her career.”

“Because the strain of performing could quite literally kill her at any moment,” said Kitsuragi.

Diamond winced. “My god. And he never told her…How long has she got?”

“A…week, a month,” estimated Columbo. “Two months at the outside.” He gave Diamond a moment to absorb this, then said, “My problem is, I don’t think that she even remembers killing him.”

The film resumed in the viewing room behind them.

“But to kill Henry?” Diamond said softly.

Kitsuragi cleared his throat but Diamond didn’t appear to notice. Wheeler looked in from the doorway.

“All you’ve got is proof it wasn’t a suicide,” Diamond said.

Wheeler’s face twisted in distress. “What are you talking about?” She fled into the viewing room then turned back to face them. “Are you still saying that my husband was murdered?”

“Yes, Madam,” replied Columbo.

The projector light illuminated Wheeler’s face, casting her shadow over the screen. She gestured emphatically as she asked, “How can you possibly think that someone in this house killed my husband? He took his own life!”

“No, Madam,” said Kitsuragi gently, and he took a step toward her. “No, he didn’t.”

“Just a minute, Lieutenant,” said Diamond and he walked past Kitsuragi to Wheeler.

“I want to know once and for all what these lieutenants are trying to say!” Wheeler said.

“Madam, the other evening we learned -” Columbo started to say, but Diamond interrupted.

“Grace, this has gone on long enough.” Diamond faced Wheeler and looked her in the eyes. “I killed Henry. I took the gun out of the glove compartment. I came through a rear window. I went up to his room and I shot him.”

Wheeler stared up at Diamond, moving her hands slowly toward her face.
Diamond turned to look back over his shoulder at the detectives. “And I made good my escape over the balcony.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying!” wailed Wheeler.

“It’s true, Grace,” Diamond told her.

“No…” she cried. “No it can’t be true. Why?” She put her hands on Diamond’s shoulders then put her head on his chest as her voice broke over her tears. “Why would you do anything like that? Why?”

“For you, Grace,” said Diamond.

Wheeler looked up and sniffed.

“For you, Grace,” he repeated, his voice shaky. “For you.”

“For me?” Wheeler asked.

“Henry was preventing you from assuming your rightful position as a star,” Diamond told her.

“What am I gonna do?” she asked.

“Oh you’ll be alright, Grace. My Grace will be alright,” reassured Diamond.

Wheeler shook her head slowly and whimpered, “No…I can’t do anything without you. I’ll just wait. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll take a long rest. I’ll just rest.” She nodded as she looked up at Diamond. “Isn’t that a good idea?”

Diamond’s voice broke as he whispered back, “That’s what you should do, Grace.” He guided her to the couch with his hands on her shoulders as she nodded up at him. “Now you sit over here, and you watch Rosie.” He knelt on the floor beside her where she sat on the couch. She continued to nod. “Just watch Rosie,” Diamond told her.

Columbo and Kitsuragi watched them from the doorway. Music from the film caught Wheeler’s attention and she turned to the screen. Diamond kissed her cheek, moved back slowly, then got up. He walked past the detectives and asked, “Should we go?”

Columbo hesitated before he followed Diamond, and Kitsuragi followed Columbo. Diamond put on his hat.

“It’s not gonna take much to break your story,” said Columbo. He continued to the front door.

“It might take a couple of months,” said Diamond.

Columbo opened the door then stopped, hand still on the door. He spun around to face Diamond, who looked back solemnly.

“Yes…” Columbo said, nodding. “Yes, it might.”

Original story by Bill Driskall. Remix by Sorrel Rowan.