"Mulholland drive." "Mulholland circle." "What the hell is goin' on here?" "Oh, my god." "Sweet Mary." "Mornin'." "Deputy chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, priority murder squad." "Sorry to keep you waitin'." "I, uh... had a little trouble." "Mornin'." "Morning'." "Um... if this is a natural death, why are we even here?" "Covering our asses, that's what." "Baby-sitting dead celebrities, my favorite part of the job." "She just slipped in the shower?" "Good morning." "That sounds kinda lame to me." "Well, she was a model, not a gymnast." "She was a little top-heavy, too." "That is not funny, sergeant." "Yes, ma'am." "I should have interviewed the person who found the body." "Well, you weren't here, and we got to thinkin' maybe you weren't coming." "Ohh, I can't find my glasses." "Ok, well, you know what?" "I'll just tell you then, ok?" "Now, the hairdresser arrived around 8 a.m. to give Heather a cut and a blow-dry." "How did she get in, the hairdresser?" "Well, she and the manicurist both have codes to the front gate, and the door was left unlocked." "Uh-huh." "There's no maids or anything?" "Everybody's off on Monday." "Where's her movie star husband?" "We're tryin' to find him." "Could we wrap this up before I retire?" "Of course, lieutenant." "Thank you so much for your patience." "She just happens to drop dead when no one's around?" "That's interesting." "Heather Kingsley, cover girl." "She usually looks a lot better than this." "Now, according to E. MT., she died between 7:50 a. m. and 8:30 this morning, but she goes out clean." "She showers, she shampoos her hair, rinses, then she puts in this leave-in conditioner here, you see?" "Now, that has to stay on for 20 minutes and I believe she was..." "While she's waitin' to rinse it off, she shaves her legs, see?" "That's a fresh nick on her knee." "Oh, yeah." "Ok." "Uh... and you see here, up around the scalp, you see how it's all red and stuff?" "Well, the E. MT. s say that could be an allergic reaction to something." "She could have fallen, hit her head, developed anaphylactic shock." "Meanwhile, Jennifer the hairdresser arrives, and she waits, but, uh, Heather doesn't come—" "Heather doesn't come downstairs, which she says is odd because Heather told her she was in a hurry today and had lots of appointments so she goes hunting for her, and finds her lying here in the shower and can't, um..." "Are you looking for something, chief?" "I am lookin' for something, because Heather shaved her legs before dropping' dead, and there is no razor anywhere of any kind." "Is that important?" "Only if we can't find it." "She's all yours." "Mornin'." "–Chief?" "–Yes?" "Ok." "Deputy chief Johnson, this is Heather's P. A., Lindsey Hagan." "Sorry to keep you waitin', miss Hagan, and I understand this is very upsetting, so I'll try to be brief." "We're havin' trouble locating' Mr Kingsley." "Do you have any idea where he is?" "He has a boat in the marina." "Dean..." "Mr Kingsley, I mean, he goes there a lot when he's not shooting." "We've tried callin' him, but there's no answer." "Uh, could he be out there alone?" "There's no crew." "If his cell phone isn't turned off..." "I'm sorry." "Where are they taking Heather?" "Um, we have to do an autopsy." "I understand that Mrs Kingsley was in a hurry today, that she had a lot to do." "Was this business?" "No." "No, she hasn't worked in 2 years." "Hurry?" "She was just getting her hair done, picking up a dress from Jeanine..." "That's her personal shopper... and having her face made up." "Is that her appointment book?" "May I take it with me?" "You can come by the office tomorrow and maybe help me decipher it." "Sometimes I have questions." "Ok... uh... sure." "Guess we won't be needing it anymore." "Thank you so much." "Sorry for your loss." "So, uh, we don't find a razor, and you're gonna treat this as a murder?" "Yes, I am." "Send some officers down to the marina." "Find me the husband and join me at the morgue, please." "Uh, you know, if you want to wait a minute, I could drive you." "Why would I need you to do that?" "How much longer is she gonna be?" "She should be any minute." "She left before I did." "Oh— I mean— Can we start?" "I mean—" "You do not want to do that." "Bad idea." "Sorry." "Sorry." "I just..." "I had a delay." "Can we start?" "Thank you." "Excuse me." "Sorry." "There's no subdermal hematoma on the bump on her head so the fall didn't kill her." "Miss..." "Sorry." "No gastrointestinal distress..." "no perforation of the intestines." "It could be a heart attack." "Well, let me get this lung out of here." "Oh..." "Hold on..." "What color would you say this was?" "Uh..." "let's see." "It's pink..." "A little purple around the edges... that's not right, is it?" "Hmm, no, her respiratory muscle seized." "31 ounces." "Could that be poison?" "There's no causative damage inside the mouth." "How would the poison have been introduced?" "Absorbed through her skin." "She has a rash on her scalp." "She had on leave-in conditioner before she died." "Yeah?" "Well, then, I suggest we get a sample of her blood and urine over to toxicology." "How long will that take?" "Well, I could put a rush on it." "We should get it back by what the first of next month." "Right." "Right." "Right." "Well, let me ask her." "Brenda?" "Brenda?" "Hey, my-my guy at quantico says he needs a photograph of the postmortem lividity around the scalp." "You have a camera handy?" "Hey, hey, don't, like get anything nasty on that phone, ok?" "I just got that phone a couple weeks ago." "Ok, I got that." "Now what?" "Uh, excuse me, Dr Crippen, could the poison have shut down her central nervous system?" "I was gonna suggest that before you called your F. B. I. friend." "In fact, if you let me shave her head," "I could pop open her skull and look inside." "Well, she was plannin' on a haircut today." "Uh, this is gonna take a few seconds." "I'll call you right back when I've sent the pictures." "Ok." "And what time did you take your boat out, Mr Kingsley?" "Around noon." "And did you stay out all night?" "Yeah, I was watching the moon on the water." "It's quite solitary and beautiful." "And were you by yourself?" "Yep." "How long has he been in there?" "About 20 minutes." "And no one called me⁈" "I was going to, but chief Pope told us not to wait." "That's a nice boat you got there." "What are you doing?" "What?" "What?" "Look, you've only been here a couple of weeks, so trust me." "If we determine that Heather Kingsley was murdered, this investigation turns into a 24/7 cablefest with an international media horde dogging our heels." "Now, even you cannot be everywhere at once." "You have to delegate." "Do you understand what I'm saying?" "Yes, Will, I do." "You're saying you're so nervous about this case, you want to supervise it yourself." "No, wait a minute." "Oh, Mr Kingsley, pardon me for interrupting." "I'm deputy chief Brenda Leigh Johnson." "Detective Sanchez, if you could please move over." "Thank you." "Well, that's perfect." "Thank you so much." "On behalf of the LAPD, I'd like to express how awful we all feel about this terrible tragedy." "And you are..." "Joe Melnick." "I represent Mr Kingsley, and I'm his friend." "Can I see her?" "My wife?" "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Kingsley." "We tried to locate you before the autopsy, but right now, your wife, she's just... not how you remember her." "Now, I have a few questions that I have to ask, and then we'll let you go somewhere in private so you can grieve." "Mrs Kingsley was gettin' ready to meet someone this afternoon." "Were you aware of that?" "Do you know where she was going?" "No." "Look, I don't have any information that can help you, all right?" "Do I have to answer these questions right now?" "I mean, please." "Excuse me, uh, chief..." "Well, you can tell her to wait outside." "No, I will not wait outside." "I'm Mr Kingsley's attorney, and you're questioning my client without—" "The constitution entitles you to a lawyer," "Mr Kingsley, not a firm." "Uh, excuse me." "I think there's some confusion here." "I'm not a lawyer." "You just said you represented Mr Kingsley." "I do... for features." "I chose my agent." "Ok, that's enough." "Dean, you're coming with me." "We're through here." "Are you gonna pretend that you didn't know that you were questioning my client without his counsel being present?" "Maybe you can explain to me why an innocent man needs an attorney to explain the accidental death of his wife." "That's an accusation?" "Dean, not another word!" "Are you arresting him?" "No." "Then he's through here." "If you want to see him again, I suggest you buy a box set of his DVDs." "I was promised a crew of elite detectives, and what captain Taylor here has given me is a bunch of junior varsity wannabes and Provenza." "That's not exactly right." "Lieutenant Tao's a technical genius." "I pulled Sanchez out of the gang intelligence unit, and sergeant Gabriel, he has a master's degree in public administration from USC." "Which makes him a great bureaucrat." "Look, last night, I found myself sitting' opposite my chief suspect, trading' questions with an agent from C. A. A." "Well, he looked like an attorney." "–The desk officer— –Should be reassigned." "Look, if you want this priority murder squad to function properly, you need to—" "It's all right." "It's all right, chief." "She has a good point." "I'll tell you what." "Robbery-homicide will share resources with you." "I'll loan you one of our best guys." "Well, thank you, captain Taylor." "That's unbelievably helpful of you." "No problem." "We're all playin' on the same team, right?" "And, uh, if there's anything else I can do for you, ma'am, you just let me know." "Now, let me be very clear on this, Brenda." "I do not want to hear any more complaints about your squad." "If you have a problem with their work, then it is your responsibility to improve it, and when, when, when am I going to be able to say definitively that Heather Kingsley was poisoned?" "Not my fault, unless I can figure out what I'm lookin' for." "The fastest toxicology can get back to me is next month." "Well, what if Dean Kingsley can prove he was on his boat when his wife died?" "It's not an alibi." "If the conditioner really is the vehicle for the poison, then it could have been slipped into the bottle weeks ago." "Look, I-I have another issue that I have to discuss with you." "Um, the priority murder squad got its stationary yesterday, and I just got a look at it this morning." "Ok, so this is..." "Dr Durmont was collagen injections and dermabrasion." "Ok." "More tips about Dean Kingsley's personal life." "Oh, thank you so much, detective Daniels." "I'm sorry, Lindsey." "Go on." "You were saying?" "Oh, that one was to have her hair colored." "What do you want me to do about these interview requests?" "We got CNN, Court TV, all the networks and Access Hollywood." "Tell them all no and not to play in my part of the sandbox." "Journalists." "This is like a holiday for them, hunting' gossip, destroying' lives." "Oh, well, what can you do?" "Ok, I'm sorry, Lindsey, so you were saying about the hair dye?" "Yes, she does that 3 days before she has it cut." "Ok, 1,2,3." "Hair dye..." "Look, if this is going to turn into an investigation of Dean's personal life..." "Is there somewhere private where we could talk?" "Absolutely, absolutely." "6 years ago, I was an associate producer on a movie Dean starred in." "One thing led to another," "I ended up spending a lot of time with him on his boat." "Heather's afraid of the water, so the boat's ideal." "Are you saying you had an affair with him?" "Yeah... that's what it was." "I mean, he said that he loved me, that his marriage was over, and he was gonna leave Heather for me, and after I believed all his bullshit, he suddenly remembered he had this terrible prenup," "and his agent told him that the publicity from the divorce..." "Yes, it was an affair." "How'd you start workin' for his wife?" "Studios overlook the behavior of their stars, not their lowly executives, and after Dean dumped me, I couldn't even get a job running errands on a music video." "Heather needed someone." "Dean felt sorry for me." "It's awful..." "Pathetic, I know." "Look, if there's just some way that you could keep this out of the media..." "I don't want it to ruin my life again." "I was hardly Dean's last girlfriend." "That sailboat is more like a ferry." "What do you suppose Heather would have done if she figured out what Dean was up to?" "Um..." "I hope she would have taken him for everything he was worth." "Sergeant Gabriel, if you could call the switchboard and have them redirect all these calls back to the tip line." "I got what I needed, thank you." "Ok, let's divide up." "Sanchez and Daniels, if you could go to the marina, please, find me somebody who saw Dean Kingsley on his sailboat." "Lieutenant Tao, I hear we have a savage prenup in the mix." "I'd like to know its terms." "Lieutenant Provenza, if you could look through Mr Kingsley's movies, see if there's anything that might parallel his wife's murder." "Hiya, chief." "Remember me?" "Of course I do." "Lieutenant Flynn." "How can I help you?" "Other way around, ma'am." "Captain Taylor sent me over to lend a hand." "Right." "Well, good." "Maybe you could put a new warrant together, supervise the search of Kingsley's house and sailboat." "I'm lookin' for anything that might contain some form of poison." "Anything, huh?" "You gotta be kidding." "That could include cleaning supplies, detergents, medicines, aerosols..." "Well, it sounds like you'll be real busy, then, so I won't hold you." "Sergeant Gabriel?" "So, um, what are we gonna do if Mr Kingsley won't talk to us?" "If you can't interview the suspect, you find out what you can about the victim." "Um, botox, collagen, dermabrasion, haircut, new dress, a complete makeover, and then nothing." "I think we need to find out who Heather was gettin' all gussied up to go see." "So you want me to have some of those people brought in or..." "No." "Um, I think it's better if we go to their workplace where they have no expectation of privacy, keep them in their comfort zone." "Look, uh... if you're finished with your paperwork for today, sergeant Gabriel, it might be useful for you to... come with me... to observe..." "If-if you want." "Yeah, ok, um, useful in what way?" "What can I do?" "...and I have to go to the funeral, so I figured that since you found the body and Heather knew you," "I could kill 2 birds with one stone." "I –if you're up to it." "Yesterday was tough." "I'm better today, and when Lindsey called, she said you really needed help, so how long have you had your hair that way?" "About 3 years, oh, I don't know, you know, I like to be pretty free with it." "Mmm." "Not so free it escapes." "You are the police." "I understand that Heather was in a hurry yesterday." "And I was wonderin' if it was because she was—" "Oh, gosh, what was..." "Gabriel, do you remember who she was meetin'?" "No, ma'am." "Oh, I should have written it down." "It's on the tip of my tongue." "Well, whoever it was, she called me the night before and was like, "be here by 8:00, you know, 'cause I have this big lunch and I'll be all ready for you,"" "'cause normally, I wash and condition her hair myself." "You do?" "Mm-hmm." "You know, like, massage her scalp a bit, but she didn't want that yesterday." "She was obsessed about this lunch." "Hey, how about a little color?" "For a funeral?" "Yeah, it's not that unusual." "You'd be surprised at the number of women out here who turn absolutely platinum with grief." "You can see it's not for eveningwear, but it's just glamorous for lunch." "She was starving herself to fit into it and wearing it out the door." "Ok." "These two are for you." "Appropriate for funerals, but I think they could also double up for evenings out." "Well, they're very pretty, Jeanine." "Thank you." "I'll just try 'em on." "My pleasure." "You're almost the same size as Heather was." "Of course, she wasn't modeling anymore." "Well, uh, you've got great taste." "She would have really turned heads at—" "I'm sorry." "I'm not from around here." "I forgot." "What's the name of that restaurant she was going to?" "Uh, she didn't offer up too many details." "Dean's the friendly one, really." "Oh." "So you shop for both of 'em." "Mmm." "And only them." "I basically do rentals of our couture lines to movies." "Oh." "So that's how you met Dean?" "Yes." "That... is how I met Dean." "And that's how you met Heather, through him?" "And just how friendly were you with Dean?" "Friendly enough to lose my husband." "You live, and you learn, right?" "That's what I thought you stopped by to ask me." "Lindsey said you were getting lots of calls." "You know, you should try this one." "It might help soften your eyes." "I remember the first time she came in with him, with Dean, and all the girls were screaming," ""Oh, it's Dean Kingsley."" "Yuck." "Those romantic comedies he does, so 20th century." "Don't move." "Eyelashes." "Eyelashes." "And he flirted with me almost right in front of his wife." "Don't blink." "And I was nice, but you know, get a divorce before you start that stuff." "Heh." "So stupid." "Ta-da." "We're all done." "Uh, hey, Isabel, which way is the restaurant she was going to from here?" "Sirodo's?" "It's, uh, 2 blocks east and one block north." "11:30, she said, which is a little early for lunch, but maybe she wanted to avoid the crowd." "Ok, so we have the liner, the shadow, the night restorative, the 2 foundations, which brings your total to $531 and 22 cents." "Would you like to take a glance in my magic mirror?" "Oh, my god." "I look completely different." "You're welcome." "Thank you." "She was meeting someone for lunch here around 11:30." "Are you sure you have the right restaurant?" "We don't do lunch." "And yesterday—" "We don't serve at all on mondays." "So who would be here around that time?" "Mm, just me taking reservations." "Maybe if I had a name." "Ok." "Um... how about Heather Kingsley?" "Uh, ok." "Kingsley." "Kingsley, Kingsley, Kingsley." "I'm surprised you don't recognize the name, Ms Metcalf." "She's been in the news a lot lately." "She just died." "Oh... that Heather Kingsley." "Yes, Ms Metcalf." "That Heather Kingsley." "You look like you got a little sun recently." "Could it be that you've been sailing?" "Sailing?" "No." "No, I, uh..." "Sgt. Gabriel, may I have your phone, please?" "Yes, ma'am." "It might interest you to know, Ms Metcalf that Heather put a full 2 weeks of her life into getting ready to confront you— new face, new hair, new dress." "Yet despite everything she did to change her appearance, she ended up looking like this." "These are her brains on drugs." "I was there when they popped her skull open, and I took these photos." "I am still... upset about it." "Now, I've got detectives down at the marina right now, so if you were there I'm going to find out about it." "I'm gonna ask you again." "Were you on a sailboat with Dean Kingsley?" "Yes, I was." "I don't know why Dean didn't want me to tell you." "If you really are investigating him for murder, I'm his alibi." "Oh, no, Ms Metcalf." "You're his motive." "How'd you get a reservation here?" "I hear you normally have to book this place a month ahead." "I got to know the manager pretty well this afternoon." "So, what did your toxicologist say?" "He thinks nicotine poisoning." "How long does that take to work?" "Depends on how the body absorbs it." "But if, as you say, your victim's scalp was hot, like it was just washed with warm water, the nicotine is pure, 15 minutes, maybe." "What?" "You have a tag." "Oh." "Heh." "I'm taking this back." "And don't get used to me looking like this, because I can't afford it." "You ok, Brenda?" "You seem frazzled." "Oh, I just—" "I can't make the pieces fit together in this case, and every other street in the hills is called Mulholland something." "I thought you had a driver." "Oh, I did, but I got mad at him, and now I'm late everywhere." "And all these women." "What women?" "The women that Dean Kingsley cheated on his wife with." "I'm almost as mad at them as I am at him." "Because?" "Because they fell for his routine." ""I love you." "I want to marry you." "I'm gonna leave my wife."" "And then he drops 'em saying he can't afford the divorce settlement, and he goes and picks up someone else." "And all these women he dumps, they actually go on and work for him in some weird way." "Irritates me." "What?" "–Nothing." "–What?" "What were you gonna say?" "Well, it's just..." "Isn't that what you did with Will Pope?" "You had an affair with him in Washington." "He told you he loved you, wanted to divorce his wife, marry you." "Then he dumped you, left his wife for somebody else." "Now you're here in L. A. and you're working for him." "Yeah." "That's good." "That's good." "It's..." "It's a whole new perspective on the case." "Thank you." "Ok, well, maybe I shouldn't have said any—" "No, no, no." "You know what?" "It's fine." "Really." "Are you still not drinking?" "Because I could use a drink." "Excuse me." "Hi there." "May I have a huge glass of merlot, please?" "Thank you." "It's good." "You want some bread." "–No, I'm ok." "–Ok." "So, symptoms of nicotine poisoning:" "faintness, dizziness, respiratory distress, paralysis, heart failure." "Which is why you don't put it in your hair." "And after booking 43 different poisons," "Flynn found nicotine at the Kingsley house in the gardening shed –insecticide." "Now, I think this is enough to bring him back, sweat him, maybe make a deal." "I don't want a deal." "But, chief, I really think you're onto something, though, because Daniels and Sanchez found this guy at the marina, and he says he saw Kingsley—" "I don't wanna make a deal, ok?" "I want a confession." "Now that we know what we're looking for toxicology can move faster." "Here's what I want you to do." "And then take the pesticide we found to our labs." "Check to make sure they each have nicotine in them and then make absolutely sure it's the same kind of nicotine, ok?" "Thank you." "Thank you, lieutenant Tao." "Allow me." "Oh, Brenda." "Good." "I was—I was just wondering how we're doing with Dean Kingsley." "Pretty Good." "At least I know I'm dealing with a two-timing adulterer whose specialty is making women fall in love with him, by pretending he wants to marry 'em." "Actors." "Are you counting on having him come back in?" "Yes, Will, I am." "I don't think his lawyer's gonna let him talk to you." "Don't worry about it." "I'll get what I need from Dean Kingsley." "Do you mind?" "I'm working on his alibi." "Sure, ok." "By the way... your hair looks great." "Yeah, thanks." "I like yours, too." "This is Donny Holt." "Donny, deputy chief Johnson." "Hello, Mr Holt." "Thank you so much for coming." "Happy to help." "He has the boat slip 2 over from Dean Kingsley, isn't that right, sir?" "That's right." "So, you know Mr Kingsley?" "You're friendly with him?" "Yeah, we know each other, yeah." "We talk boats, you know?" "As a matter of fact I helped him antifoul his boat one day." "Get the barnacles off." "And do you recognize this woman?" "Oh, yeah." "Yeah, that's the new girlfriend, all right." "Luckiest guy in the world, huh?" "Except..." "You know, I think his wife came down one night not too long ago, and that was not fun." "Really?" "You saw her?" "Buzz, turn that down." "Yes, sir." "What do you want, Flynn?" "Miss Atlanta's trying to get Kingsley to talk to her again, but she's going about it all wrong, and I say we let her, that we don't go out of our way to help her." "Flynn, when have you ever known me to go out of my way to help anybody ever?" "First saw her about 2 weeks ago." "Seems kinda greedy to me to be married to someone like Heather and have all these ladies on the side." "So on the day in question..." "Well, he sailed off with this girl you showed me here around noon and didn't come back until I was getting ready to go to work on Monday." "Hey, will you take a look at that?" "She's making Kingsley's alibi." "Flynn, out." "So here I thought we were slamming, and we just got hit with a ton of bad news." "Let's hear it." "The liquid nicotine in Heather's conditioner didn't match up with the pesticide we found at their house." "It's 2 different concentrations." "And the Kingsley prenup?" "It doesn't exist." "They didn't have one at all." "Plus, you know, men don't usually off their wives over someone they met 2 weeks ago." "That's the voice of experience, I suppose?" "Sorry, chief." "Looks like you're gonna have to start over." "Actually, I'm not." "The revised autopsy report confirms exactly what I thought." "The victim's death was accomplished through a solution of liquid nicotine absorbed solely through the scalp." "Add that to the fact that we know his alibi is solid, the nicotine doesn't match, and there was no prenup, and I have Mr Kingsley exactly where I want him." "Lieutenant Flynn, if you could do the honors." "Arrest our movie star let him spend the night in jail." "Drive his lawyers insane." "I'll talk to him in the morning." "You don't have enough evidence to charge him with murder." "He lied when he said he was alone on the boat, and he conspired with Alison Metcalf to pass that lie on to the police." "Conspiracy equals obstruction of justice." "You can start there." "Good night, y'all." "Have a good night's sleep." "Lieutenant, something on your mind?" "Yeah." "I wanna talk to you about your hair." "You ask me, letting her arrest Kingsley is a mistake." "They got fans from all over the country outside his house, and the media is parked in his driveway" "Till at least 11:30 every night." "And we're saying this movie star, who's banging new chicks all the time, suddenly went nutty over some girl he met 2 weeks ago?" "Listen to him, chief." "It's just not plausible." "And the nicotine doesn't match." "Well, we don't have to tell them that." "Hey, it's not her fault." "Maybe in Washington or Atlanta, she could book on a suspect like this with no problem." "I don't know." "But even with all the C.I.A training in the world—and she's good—" "Kingsley's lawyers are not gonna let her do a thing, uh-uh, not on this evidence." "But, hey, you know... it's your call." "If you want us to arrest him, let's do it." "Lieutenant Flynn, am I to understand you refused a direct order to arrest Dean Kingsley?" "No, ma'am." "That order was countermanded by assistant chief Pope in the interest of our department's reputation." "And no one here thought I should be informed of this?" "Well..." "All right, then." "It's good to know where I stand." "I'll just arrest him myself, then." "Thank y'all very much." "Damn it." "Ok, ok, look, listen, is there any possibility at all that charging Kingsley with a crime might be the wrong thing to do?" "No, because it's the only way I can get him to come in here and talk to me." "Look, sergeant, if you're afraid of helping me," "I'm perfectly capable of arresting him on my own." "Yes, you could do that, but I want you to think about something first." "What?" "When you handcuff Dean Kingsley and put him in the backseat of your car, you're gonna have helicopters, news vans, and millions of television viewers all escorting you back here to Parker Center." "So?" "So, are you absolutely certain that you can, by yourself, drive back here without getting lost?" "Thank you." "Thank you." "I know that was very difficult for you, but thank you." "This entire exercise is a waste of time." "My client doesn't have to talk to you, and he won't." "But he does have to listen to me, and he will, because I've been investigating the death of his wife, and if Mr Kingsley doesn't help me in say, the next 10 minutes," "I'm gonna send him down to the the DA. 's office and have him arraigned for murder." "–Oh, my god." "–On what evidence?" "–...nicotine on his wife's head." "Further..." "–You didn't authorize this?" "Surprised?" "Oh, well." "Maybe she has a plan or something." "...he was not alone." "He was with a woman with whom he was having an affair." "Oh, and by the way, being on a boat when your wife drops dead, that's just not very original, Mr Kingsley, even by hollywood standards." "It's all circumstantial." "I'm perfectly willing to let a judge decide that, because Mr Kingsley here is responsible for killing his wife." "–Look, I would never— –Dean, sit down." "No!" "And she's gotta know I would never, ever—" "Sit down and shut up." "But you are responsible for her death, Mr Kingsley, or did it never once occur to you, sir, that while dumping all these poor, gullible women who are stupid enough to fall in love with you," "when telling them that you wanted to divorce Heather and marry them but that you couldn't because of this nonexistent prenup, did it never once occur to you, sir, that one of them might take you seriously?" "That is not a rhetorical question, Mr Kingsley." "Oh, my god." "Oh, my god." "I'll take that as a no." "I'd like you to make a list of all the women that you've played this particular game with over the last 3 years, and then I'd like you to sign this custody agreement, because I'm going to need it to make my case." "Thank you." "I just—I can't seem to get it the way you had it before." "Sit down, please." "You're doing it wrong, for one thing." "Sorry." "Let me get this." "So, I, uh, saw you arrested Dean Kingsley this morning." "It's just, like, ridiculous, you know?" "He would never do anything to hurt his wife." "Well, you may be right about that." "Turns out he has a good alibi." "On his sailboat with an extremely attractive young woman." "He just started up this new affair." "Yeah, some restaurant manager in Beverly Hills." "Really pretty." "Oh, hey!" "Did I tell you this?" "One of my colleagues recognized the hair do you gave me." "It's just like the one you gave the woman who played opposite Dean in his last movie." "I looked it up on the crew list." "You were in the makeup trailer." "That's how you knew him, isn't it?" "Tell me, Jennifer, did he ever take you sailing'?" "He took most of his girlfriends sailing'." "Most?" "I'm not his girlfriend." "Hi, Jennifer." "Remember me?" "Does Mr Holt jog your memory?" "You see, he referred to the present girlfriend as the new one, which, of course, made me wonder who the last one might have been." "Oh, and the autopsy report said that Heather absorbed nicotine solely through her scalp, so she couldn't have done it herself, because some of ot would have seeped in on her hands, and, Jennifer, you were the only other person there." "You said so yourself." "You are not alone." "Here's a list of a lot of other women that he said that he would marry if only Heather would give him a divorce." "And you know the worst part?" "There was no prenup." "There was a prenup." "He told me." "He gave me all the details." "He's an actor, Jennifer." "He lied." "That's what he does for a livin'." "I did not kill her." "I didn't." "I mean, it was a suicide, maybe." "Ok, ok, let me walk you through it." "You washed Heather's hair and conditioned it, just like you always do." "Only, this time, you wore gloves, because you didn't wanna get any of the nicotine on your hands." "And after you massaged it in real well, she went to the shower to shave her legs, and you waited until she died, and then you went in to clean up a little, but you took the razor by mistake." "Well, you were nervous, and you wanted to be neat, and on the way home, you got rid of it all:" "the poison and the razor and the gloves." "Now, Jennifer, because you believed Dean's lies, he sails off into the sunset with his new girlfriend and your baby." "She'll be the mother now." "Is that what you want?" "See what we have here, Jennifer?" "You tell us where you dumped everything, and we give you this agreement where Mr Kingsley signs away his parental rights." "You could have your child raised by your parents, could come visit you or something." "Shouldn't I have an attorney?" "We could get you an attorney, but if we did that before you tell me what I wanna know," "I'll tear this agreement up into tiny pieces, and Dean will walk away with your baby the moment it's born." "No." "No." "Ok." "I..." "I took everything I used, and I put it in a green plastic trash bag, and I tossed it." "I thought he loved me." "I thought we would have the baby." "Just hold on one second." "Where did you throw the trash bag?" "Somewhere on Mulholland Drive." "Could you be a little more specific?" "No, I never saw it." "How'd I look?" "Oh, you're kidding me." "Oh, daddy, tell me you did not video-record me arresting Dean Kingsley in front on his house." "You didn't!" "Oh..." "Well, I guess they were playing it a lot." "All right, send it along, then." "Really?" "How much younger?" "Oh, that's just me looking for a receipt." "I'm returning stuff." "5 years younger?" "Really?" "I don't know, daddy." "It's a lot of time and expense to look that way on a daily basis." "Oh, no, no." "Don't send me any money." "Don't be ridiculous." "Well... my birthday is coming up next month." "Yeah." "Go on." "Send it along, then." "Ok." "I love you, too."