NARRATOR: Previously on Pushing Daisies:
Who the hell are you?
Dwight Dixon. I was a friend of your father's 25 years ago.
-I'm actually trying to find him. -I'm afraid we lost touch.
I haven't seen or heard from the man in 20 years.
I'm here for something: a common brass pocket watch.
Looked a lot like this one, which is mine.
I don't recall a pocket watch.
Charlotte's father, my lover, was Vivian's fiancé.
-You're a home-wrecker too! -Vivian can never know.
I'm not gonna say anything to Vivan about what you did.
-Don't come for me, fella. I fight dirty. -Why'd you fake your death?
Are you and the Pie-Maker in cahoots together?
I died. He brought me back to life.
-If you don't wanna tell me, just say so. -What do you mean, I can't come?
There's a grave out there that you supposed to be in.
People who are dead but not dead come up against mobs...
...with pitchforks and torches.
VIVIAN: I have a small confession...
...about Charles' pocket watch. I do recall it.
We buried it with our niece, "Lonely Tourist" Charlotte Charles.
NARRATOR: There once was a Pie-Maker who had a gift:
A touch that brought the dead to life.
The gift followed these rules:
Touch a dead thing once: alive.
Touch a dead thing twice: dead again, forever.
Keep a dead thing alive for more than a minute:
Something else has to die.
At this very moment, at the Longborough School for Boys...
...when it came to the currency of popularity...
...young Ned was poor, but not the poorest.
Eugene Mulchandani's thick accent...
...and unfortunate family history of disproportionate jaw structure...
...made him both extremely difficult to understand...
...and an easy mark for bullies.
Young Ned knew that playing with Eugene meant losing his marbles...
...but he considered the sacrificed aggies, steelies and shooters...
...an act of charity, for aside from Ned...
...Eugene had only two other companions:
Bilbo, his lethargic Indian python, and Ackbar, a bunny.
Eugene was devastated when he learned...
...that upon attempting to eat Ackbar the Bunny...
...Bilbo the Snake choked, killing them both.
Under the guise of burying Eugene's pets...
...young Ned resolved to perform another act of charity...
...for his language-mangling friend.
He knew that giving Eugene his friends back...
...would require two innocent creatures to die...
...and a lie about how he found them both barely breathing...
...when he went to bury them.
But as long as the benefits outweighed the costs...
...he also believed an act of charity outweighed the consequences.
Twenty years, 16 weeks, four days and nine hours later...
...the boy had grown into the Pie-Maker...
...and the Pie-Maker was, at this very moment...
...troubled.
-You're stress baking. -I don't know what you're talking about.
You've been up since before the sun and there's a traffic jam of pies.
You're worried.
"Worried" would imply an urge toward action.
"Troubled" seems more apt.
About a man named Dwight...
...asking questions about your dad and is dating my Aunt Vivian?
Oh, you're stress baking.
If he's dating your aunt, he's going to see a picture.
If he doesn't have amnesia, he's going to recognize you...
...if he hasn't already. Why is he dating your aunt?
Not to suggest that she's not perfectly lovely...
...but it does seem coincidental.
Does Vivian's boy toy have something to do...
-...with why you faked your death? -No.
Maybe he's been after you all along. Maybe he works for the IRS.
If anyone can figure out whether you're dead, it's the taxman.
Maybe he thinks you are dead. He's one of those paranormal investigators.
He's the old priest, and the young priest is coming.
That would be a waste of religion, because she's not dead.
-I find myself urged to action. -Yeah, me too.
Public records. We've gotta find out who Dwight is...
...and if he's after more than just your aunt's companionship.
Counterintelligence via pie delivery: like gossiping with a purpose.
My specialty.
-Pie time. -Olive! What a surprise. And with a pie.
-The second-sweetest treat of my day. -Something sweeter than a Pie Hole pie?
The first was a surprise visit from a certain gentleman caller.
Oh, the lovely lady of the Hole, and with a special delivery to heel.
No need to stand on my account. Just here doing my duty.
No other reason I can speak of.
And what type of duty are you in again?
Clergy? Tax services?
Dwight collects and appraises antiques...
...which I learned right after he told me he's dating my sister.
Lily's naturally suspicious of new liaisons...
...but I felt compelled to come clean about our relationship.
Sneaking around is for politicians in bathroom stalls.
Not for a brisk and bucolic autumn-cum-winter afternoon...
...on the park. Ladies.
OLIVE: Bye.
Seems nice.
I don't trust him further than I can spit, and I can spit.
Look at the way he drapes himself all over her. Ugh!
Makes me wanna stick a fork in my eye.
-I need a drink. -You're holding one.
I need a stronger one. And a fork.
While Olive pondered one sister blinded by love and the other by distrust...
...Emerson Cod pondered the exorbitant amount of cash...
...he'd just been given.
I demand justice for the decedent...
...and I will not rest, settle or adjourn until I have it!
Mind demanding it in your inside voice?
I'm sorry. Years of litigation have made me a loud talker.
What makes a lawyer so willing to shell out his own green...
-...over a client's death? -I have a special practice.
Gustav was my one client, and that client is now dead.
So why you still hanging on? Looking for a few stray cash capillaries?
No. Gustav was more than a client. He was a....
He was a cantankerous bombast with a violent temper...
...and a lust for power and wealth.
In lawyer speak. I was in love with him.
You talk to the police about your friend?
The police station is run by a bunch of monkeys.
You want the best, you pay the premium.
Why ain't the family paying?
His wife was his family, and she was the biggest leech of all.
Always after his will.
So she got to the will through murder?
Well, I never trusted her.
I tried my best, as a lover--
I mean, as a lawyer and a friend, to protect Gustav.
She ruined his life. She's gonna ruin his legacy.
I smell a big old "but" heading in my direction.
Gustav was robbed the night he died.
It happens when you have a fortune like his.
-What kind of fortune we talking about? -The kind built upon your tight balls.
The facts were these:
Gustav Hofer had lived the American dream.
His mechanized yarn-baller not only gave a generation...
...of frustrated grandmothers the means to make unwanted gifts...
...at the age of 19, it was the first of countless inventions...
...that made Gustav Hofer his first of countless millions.
Before Gustav Hofer could make one penny more...
...someone arranged for his permanent retirement...
...and the lawyer who was in love with him found his retired remains.
-He doesn't look like the richest man. -They say he had the Midas touch.
You're a little bit like King Midas, except substitute life for gold...
...and you don't have donkey ears.
Midas was a miser, like Scrooge, but hungrier. I'm a philanthropist.
Just touch the sucker.
Hello. We'd like to ask a few questions...
-...but we only have a minute. -I presume I'm dead.
Let's get to business. First, the matter of my will.
-It's in your lawyer's-- -Not that will. A new will...
...and you're going to track it down for me, roger?
-Roger. Now if-- -Kid, you talk too much.
The will is in my trophy room. Go to the biggest trophy, center of the wall.
Turn it clockwise. Say it back to me.
-Who killed you? -Who are you? Who is he?
Do you know who I am, Elmer?
You about to be the first man to ever be murdered twice.
-You want justice-- -I don't want my hard-earned money...
...going where it doesn't belong.
Your generation has never understood the value of a dollar--
Trophy room, biggest trophy, turn clockwise.
Smartest one of the bunch. I like your moxie, sassafras.
Find my will, and make sure that no-good...
...gold-digging wife of mine doesn't get one damn dime. Got it?
-Who killed you? -The bellman did it.
[KNOCKING]
The private investigator, the Pie-Maker and Chuck...
...arrived at Gustav Hofer's mansion to question his recent widow...
...and long-time porter regarding the inventor's death.
All right, me and Dead Girl are gonna go chat up the bellman.
You find that trophy room and get ahold of that will.
I can do that. That said...
...what's your take on Dwight dating Vivian?
How long before he looks at a picture and says:
"There's that girl from The Pie Hole"?
When I see an out-of-context picture of a nice-looking young girl, I don't say:
"There's that young girl who served me cappuccino in that one restaurant."
Oh, my gosh. This wallpaper is vintage Osborne & Little.
You could buy an island for what this must be worth.
Cool. I never even noticed.
Isn't that weird? I'm, like, the worst widow ever.
Elise. You must be the PIs.
Yes. Thank you so much for agreeing to help us.
-Is there a restroom? -Down the hall, second left.
We're very sorry for your loss. You must be devastated.
Crushed.
-Please, pop a squat. -Thank you.
James Andrew, the bellman you wanted to see, is on his way.
I told him to bring some of those awesome champagne-juice drinks.
Mimosas?
James Andrew, they want mimosas instead.
James Andrew!
I'm sure he heard me.
Well, this is a very nice castle that you have, Mrs. Hofer.
Thanks. It's a wreck right now, getting it all set up for the wake.
You should totally come.
Everybody who's anybody is gonna be here celebrating Gustav's death.
-You mean life. -Sure, whatever.
Oh, no.
"Turn the largest trophy clockwise."
Cheers.
Cheers. That is the best champagne drink I've ever had.
I know, right?
Mrs. Hofer said you wanted to see me. I assume it's not just for my mimosa.
How does one become a bellman?
Bellmen wear monkey suits and work in hotel lobbies. I am a porter.
Were you porting the night your boss had a close encounter with his light?
I was at a key party. At least 15 people can vouch.
James Andrew is definitely not the killing type.
Well, Mrs. Hofer, excuse me for being blunt...
...but you stand to gain from your late husband's death.
Oh, my God, you think I totally did it.
Well, FYI , I was at a charity ball the night of the murder.
Y'all sure got a big-ass dog.
[SPEAKS IN LATIN]
The safe was empty. No will.
-Nothing but a cryptic Latin phrase. -Poor Gustav.
He cared about getting that will in the right hands.
If we find the killer, we'll find that will.
Problem is, our case just went from a slam-dunk to a badunkadunk.
-Is badunkadunk bad? -Badunkadunk means big...
...as in what our simple murder case just became.
What happened to "the bellman did it"?
He's hiding something, but 15 people at a key party?
-That's an airtight alibi. -What is a key party, any--?
Oh, I love that you don't know that.
-It's a kind of raffle. -Of the porno variety.
Oh.
Back to the case. How does a safe...
...with cryptic Latin inside change anything?
You need to peel back the pie crust you're working under...
...and turn on the news sometime.
Rich people are getting robbed by some hooligan...
...who leaves the Latin calling card at every scene.
That's why it's a badunkadunk.
I gotta go see a buddy at the police station.
Great. Gives us more time...
...to start work on our research project on Dwight.
Seems like Dwight didn't exist...
...before checking into the Come-and-Sleep Motel.
Who knows? Maybe he's not a bad guy. He's charming.
What do Lily and Vivian think?
What you'd expect: Lily hates and Vivian is completely ga.
Good news is, you're not even on his radar.
How about another cup of coffee, please?
Dwight's got a strange preoccupation with your father's pocket watch.
Maybe we give it to him and he goes away.
Or we could wake my dad and ask him.
-Chuck. -It would be a shortcut...
...to finding out who Dwight is.
You just have to touch him and ask him.
But that was an act of charity the Pie-Maker was not willing to commit.
I'm sorry. It's just....
I know you wanna say goodbye...
...and I know a lifetime of goodbyes can't be condensed into a single minute.
Even if they could, you'd have to watch him die all over again.
I love you too much to make you suffer like that.
You understand?
Well, I got us a good nugget.
The police say that our serial robber always makes a donation to charity...
...the day after he robs someone.
Am I interrupting something?
-No. -Yep.
Maybe Gustav Hofer was being robbed by a latter-day Robin Hood.
-Killed by him. -Call it what you want.
But I know where we can find a bellman with a charity streak.
It's a new day, friends, another opportunity to help the needy...
...so ring those bells, collect spare change...
...and remember: Ring for right!
Ring for right!
Ring for right.
[SPEAKS IN LATIN]
Which means "your ass is busted" in PI lingo.
Welcome to the Bellmen's Charity Headquarters.
Here to make a donation? Volunteer?
One of your ringers rang for wrong to the tune of robbery-homicide.
That's outrageous and impossible. We screen our Bellmen regularly...
...to make sure that all who ring in these hallowed halls...
...follow our motto: Ring for right.
Which happens to be written in crime scenes all over the city.
In a dead language, but still.
Friends, I assure you, my Bellmen have nothing to hide.
I fling my doors open to your investigation...
...and if there's anything else that I can do, please don't hesitate--
To ring?
-Absolutely. MEN: Yeah? Well, somewhere...
...a starving street child is chewing off his own fingers...
...because you're too cheap to give 50 bucks.
Telemarketers. I hate these guys.
I'm Emerson Cod, private investigator. These are my associates.
Mind if we have a gander at your phone list?
-What phone list? -The one you just slid into that folder.
-What folder? -There's a comfort.
Telemarketers are just as horrible in real life.
Shift change.
-He was very suspect-ish. -Very.
Yeah, well, any of these phone numbers match the one at Gustav's mansion...
...he's gonna be very jailbird-ish.
After unearthing the grave of Charlotte Charles...
...in search of a pocket watch and finding neither girl nor watch...
...former jailbird Dwight Dixon used his masculine wiles...
...to determine if Vivian knew of the watch's final, final resting place.
The clarinet is a lovely instrument.
I wanted to be a flautist, but unusually tight tendons...
...in my pinkie finger made hitting D-sharp impossible.
Well, they look just fine to me. Perfect for holding.
I'm not the kind of woman who slips notes into random men's coat pockets...
-...but something about you.... -And what might that have been?
The charm you force to cover the brutish shell...
...around your damaged heart.
I like layers.
Dwight felt his cold heart warm ever so much.
Lily was under the impression you're only looking to recover personal property...
...then disappear like a puddle of gasoline in the sunshine.
I was saddened to hear Charles' watch was buried with your dear late niece...
...but what a fine gesture that was.
I imagine the service was magnificent.
It was.
So others beside yourself...
...were able to see Charlotte with the watch...
...before her dear soul was committed to the ground?
Mary Suddbury leaned in and peeled back Charlotte's eyelids.
Said there was a vigorous black market in stolen corneas...
...but I thought it was in poor taste.
Charlotte. I encouraged her to take the pleasure cruise...
...that ended so unpleasantly.
I was tired of being a shut-in, but I couldn't bring myself to leave...
...and so I decided to leave vicariously, and pushed Charlotte out the door.
Poor Charlotte.
Now. You've gone and set those pretty peepers a-weeping.
In his search for a brass pocket watch, Dwight Dixon found a heart of gold.
I've carried this with me since the funeral...
...as a reminder to stop living vicariously and start living living.
You've probably seen her face before.
She was all over the news after she died.
Oh, I've definitely seen her face before.
Do you know if Gustav donated to an organization called the Bellmen?
-The Bellmen? -Every house that's been robbed...
...was called by a Bellmen telemarketer named Tam Fong.
So Elise didn't do it? This Tam Fong killed Gustav?
Well, where is he? I'm gonna find that malfeas-ass...
-...and slam him down! -Inside voice.
-Not the gavel of justice. -Outside voice.
I'm talking about Southern-style, back-alley score-settling...
...doled out by me and a couple--
-Conversational patio voice? -Before you get to doling out justice...
...the smoking gun don't always point to the bad guy.
So Tam Fong isn't the guilty party?
Yes. No. Maybe.
All we know is, maybe he had a hand in marking the mark.
Good news is, we have reason to believe Gustav completed a second will.
A second will? Hopefully, that tarnished trophy wife of his is excluded.
Wait, wait. I'm his lawyer.
If there were a second will, I would have drafted it...
...and drawn a tidy 20 percent commission for my troubles.
So how would you know differently?
Let's just say our procedures would be inadmissible in court.
The will was taken during the robbery.
You people mix the good with the bad.
The world would be better if everybody dabbed calamine on bad news.
Gustav Hofer deserved better than the wife he had...
...and the wife he had didn't deserve the money he earned.
You find that second will, I'll double your fee.
-We'll find that will. -We'll find that will.
Tam's calling the houses, even if he's not robbing them.
What if we put our names on the do-call list?
No burglar would take the bait...
-...if they saw your tiny-ass apartments. -We could use my aunts' house.
Is there a sting? I wanna sting. Can I?
-That's a very bad idea. -It's a good idea, made doubly good.
You figure out who brought the lights down on Gustav.
I'll shine a light on the true identity of Dwight.
I have an old cigar box with my dad's letters...
...it's hidden in my bedroom.
Now, if my dad did know Dwight, there'll be something about him inside.
The Pie-Maker considered the wooden box in her old room...
...a better alternative to the wooden box that contained her father...
...so a sting was set.
Mr. Fong, I am so sorry to interrupt.
I'm Tessa Carville, wife of Clarence Carville...
...who I'm sure you're aware owns Carville Steel.
I believe someone from here called me yesterday?
Mrs. Carville, of course. Please, take a seat.
I won't be staying long.
Just long enough to explain why I hate phone solicitations...
...almost as much as I hate beggars and panhandlers.
I have the right to a net worth greater than most developing countries...
...without being hounded by sponging ne'er-do-wells...
...and sanctimonious bleeding hearts like yourself.
So unless you stop calling...
... I will take a tiny fraction of my immense wealth...
...buy this building, knock it down, and turn it into a glue factory so big...
...the whole city will be smelling horse.
If you please leave your number...
... I'll see to it that nobody calls you again. Psych.
-Did you say "psych"? -No.
Good, because I'm getting on a hovercraft...
...bound for Saint-Tropez early this evening...
...and I expect it to be dealt with before I return tomorrow.
Here is my card.
The trap was set...
...so the Pie-Maker and Chuck returned to her childhood bedroom...
...not to catch a thief, but to uncover Dwight Dixon's true intentions.
CHUCK: They turned my old room into a cheese locker.
Can you smell the flowery overtones of Stilton wafting through the air?
It's nice that they filled this room with something you all loved so much.
Oh. It's amazing how a familiar smell can wrap you in its arms...
...and cuddle away any ugly memories between now...
...and the last time you smelled it.
Oh, thank you for letting me come.
I'm glad you came.
Oh, and don't worry about getting caught.
I'll hear anybody coming before they even get to the bottom of the stairs.
[MUSIC PLAYS AND WOMAN SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY]
Listen.
The other end's hooked up to the Victrola in the living room.
I used it to eavesdrop when I was a teenager.
-That's very crafty. -Yeah.
Alone in a room that was once hers...
...Chuck felt, for a moment, like a little girl again.
Thinking of the mementos in the box...
...among them, the birthday present she was never able to give her father...
...Chuck thanked her 8-year-old self.
Thank you, 8-year-old self.
You must be out of your damn minds!
There is no way in Tinker Bell's tiny butt cheeks...
...that you are gonna roll out the welcome mat on my porch...
-...for thieves. -We know it's an imposition--
An imposition is ordering clams at a kosher deli.
Robbers nowadays are multihyphenate hoodlums.
They don't just rob. Oh, no.
They strip you naked, lather you in lard...
...then slide you into the walls and leave you there.
-Then they rob you. -When you put it like that....
Why don't I just get a shovel and start digging my shallow grave now?
-I find a dash of danger titillating. -You've certainly made that clear.
I assume that's a passive-aggressive insult...
...directed at my daring sashays into romance.
I choose to ignore it.
You've ignored every other sign on the road to heartbreak.
I find that interjecting at precisely the right moment defuses conflict.
-Wouldn't you agree? -Lily Charles, you're jealous.
It simply slays you that a man as tender and as viscerally masculine as Dwight...
-...chose me over you. -Missed it by that much.
LILY: I am not jealous. I'm worried about you. Damn it...
... I love you. I don't wanna see this fetish you have for raffish men...
...hurt you the way it has in the past.
-On the topic of Dwight-- -Keep out of this!
Is my patch on the wrong eye or did it suddenly get very dark in here?
Is it dark? I didn't even notice.
They say that extreme photosensitivity is a sign of rabies...
...or a hangover, or a delicate optical-nerve condition--
Or a bunch of part-time PIs trying to hoodwink a hoodlum...
...by pretending my house is vacant--
Wait a minute! We're being robbed tonight!
Ooh! I just got a shiver.
NARRATOR: While the bickering downstairs continued...
...Chuck decided she had heard all the fighting she cared to...
...and turned her attention instead to her father's dusty belongings.
Seeing Dwight engaged in male bonding...
...with her father and the Pie-Maker's father...
...Chuck still found no indication of Dwight Dixon's true intentions.
The secret behind those intentions remained buried with her father...
...in the grave next to her grave, a grave she may soon be returning to.
Fear not, madam.
[GRUNTS]
-Shh! Shh! -I mean you no harm.
Spectacular throw, by the way.
To be fair, I should tell you I have a gun.
-To be fairer, I don't believe you. -To be fair...
...all I have to do is scream and a cadre of big men...
...and sweet ladies with shotguns will come running.
Fair enough. And yet, you haven't. Perhaps you believe...
...that society has a moral obligation to protect the least fortunate.
-Where society fails-- -You pick up the slack.
Which sounds incredibly noble until you kill.
I am no killer, merely a soldier of fortune. Other people's fortunes...
-...for the underprivileged. -Gustav would say otherwise.
He would if he could speak, but he can't because he's dead.
You and Tam Fong killed Gustav two days ago, after you robbed him.
First of all, Tam Fong is but another unwitting victim of my robberies.
I swipe his phone list to choose targets.
-And Gustav? -I robbed him. It's true.
Not because he was stingy and uncharitable...
-...because he asked me to. -He asked you to rob him?
He was writing a will, needed to know whether to name his wife as beneficiary.
I know how this must sound, but the facts were these.
-Huh? -These were the facts:
WRIGHT: Gustav was in the midst of a crisis of faith.
His decision to rewrite his will made him question whether his wife loved him...
...and if he had any true friendships at all.
And that's when we met.
He wanted to make a contribution but I wouldn't let him.
He said, "Where I come from, people get paid for services."
But I said, "Charity is an impulse, not a return for a friendly act."
So we talked. He told me his problems and I offered a solution.
I agreed to rob him. He would appear to be an innocent victim.
If his wife stayed faithfully by his side, his concerns could be laid to rest.
I'd return half his fortune, keep the other half for charity.
But Gustav's wife intervened and I had to get out.
I read in the paper the next day what happened to Gustav.
Even if you didn't kill him, you're a criminal.
My duty is to the downtrodden, the meek...
...those unable to reach their bootstraps, let alone pull them.
I take what people can afford to lose. That certainly doesn't include their lives.
-Do you like puppies? -Yeah.
The county animal shelter is to be shut tomorrow...
...unless I get them money to pay their mortgage.
With nowhere to house these animals, dogcatchers are calling it The Big Sleep.
You can save them?
Only if the help outweighs the hurt, the act of charity always makes sense.
You let him go? What if he's a cold-blooded murderer?
-Shut it. Kitchen. -It was charity. There were puppies.
And, besides, my Grueneberg ganglia wasn't activated.
Well, that sounds personal.
One of them feminine conversations you need to have with lady friends.
Nerves at the tip of your nose detect aggressive pheromones.
As in, you can sniff out danger?
I could smell a swashbuckling do-gooder in the wrong place at the wrong time.
-Puppy crap. -You shouldn't have let him go.
-It was a mistake. -You're really angry at me.
I'm stress baking in my head.
-You're stress baking me. -I'm channeling fear into anger.
And anger leads to hate.
Hate leads to stress baking the people you love.
Bad, but better than releasing, which you did for the Bellman.
Maybe Rob was telling the truth. Maybe it was Gustav's wife.
You did say that the bellman/porter was hiding something.
He may have had an alibi but he may also know who killed Gustav.
Eh.
Stakeouts are only fun when there are binoculars for everybody.
Stakeouts are fun if you got a game to listen to...
...and the stake is next to a hot-dog stand.
This seems like a good time to have weighty conversations.
-No, it don't. -If Dwight figures out I'm not dead...
...it may be the best thing that ever happened to me.
You're talking a lot like a dead girl that wants to go back.
-What's the worst that could happen? -Pie-Maker becomes a show in the circus.
-I earn wages peddling tickets. -This is a cavalier conversation about...
-...a deep, dark, touchy subject for me. -How deep, dark and touchy is it?
Since I was little, I'd have this dream somebody found out what I could do.
It starts off with lots of ice cream and balloons...
...and ends in a small room...
...where bits are cut out of me until there's nothing.
That's awful. If Dwight finds out about me, then he finds out about you.
You still won't wake my dad and find out what Dwight wants.
You're putting my well-being before your fears.
That's so courageous and romantic.
Ugh.
-Thank you. -Well, lookie, lookie.
That's Gustav's widow and the bellman. Petting?
Hello, motive, nice to see you again.
All that remained for Emerson Cod was to confront the bellman and widow.
Across town, all that remained of Charles Charles...
...was a loving box of memories.
And a pocket watch. Although Charles Charles...
...the man who had set so much in motion, was long gone...
...Dwight Dixon, the man who intended to bring it all to a crashing end...
...was still here.
[BELL RINGS AND DOOR CLOSES]
[OLIVE HUMMING]
We're close-- Uh.... Excuse me.
What I meant to say was, "We're closed."
Oh, you're here all by your lonesome.
No, no, I'm not here all by my lonesome.
Manuel, the big cholo janitor, is in the back.
I think he used to be in one of those super-dangerous El Salvadorian gangs...
...who murder white, older men as a warning to the police to buzz off.
Isn't that right, Manuel?
He's probably cleaning the toilet.
I'd like to leave a message for your friends.
Yeah, I'll just grab a pad. It's around here somewhere.
Boy, look at all this sugar.
[BELL RINGS]
Yeah, I hope you don't need a--
Hello?
While Olive Snook was unable to provide the pen and paper she sought...
...she'd received the mysterious Dwight's message loud and clear.
One hour, 23 minutes and 42 seconds ago...
...Olive Snook made two alarming discoveries.
First, that in time of duress...
...the Pie-Maker's penchant for stress baking was matched...
...only by the petite waitress's predilection for stress binging.
Second, that the dark stranger, Dwight Dixon...
...had discovered Chuck, a.k.a. Charlotte Charles', true identity.
It did little to lighten the load in Olive's heart...
...as she anxiously awaited the Pie-Maker's return.
Having acquired the brass pocket watch he so eagerly sought...
...Dwight Dixon set his sights on Vivian's heart of gold.
But sister Lily was not about to let that treasure go so easily.
You can turn your fanny right around and walk away, mister.
We're done buying what you're peddling.
Now, Lily, that's not entirely true. More accurate would be:
"I'm not buying what you're peddling, but Vivian will be right down."
How long you suppose she'll stay interested in the wares...
...of a two-bit huckster pitching lies?
I didn't think you were so concerned.
Shouldn't you be more worried about the truth?
Time to nip you in the budding romance.
Before Vivian convinces herself you really are the Second Coming.
I assume you are referring to my friend, your lover, Charles Charles.
-You're nothing like Charles. -I think Charlie and me...
...are more similar than you reckon. A few stark differences, of course.
But we had the same ambitions.
He made bad decisions. You were a bad decision.
My bad decisions landed me in prison. His landed him with a baby girl.
I don't think I ever had the opportunity to express my condolences.
You got your thumb on a big, red button you definitely don't wanna push.
Vivian said the service was beautiful.
And what a lovely gesture, to bury your daughter with her father's watch.
You're such thoughtful women, who have loved and lost so much.
We're gonna lose you right now before you get one inch closer...
...to my little sister's heart. Get gone and stay gone.
Lily's encounter with Dwight had stirred the pot of her sentimental soup...
...one spoonful of which gave her a terrible case of the yearns...
...to visit her daughter's grave.
What in hell's kitchen...?
But when she saw the overturned dirt, she thought about the pocket watch...
...and the man obsessed with its whereabouts...
...and wondered whether Dwight Dixon had unearthed more...
...than Vivian's buried emotion.
Meanwhile, the private investigators...
...had unearthed the buried motives of Gustav Hofer's widow.
EMERSON: You bumped off Gustav...
...so you could bump uglies with the bellman while inheriting.
-I told you. Alibi. Key party. -Your alibi never checked out.
You never went to that ball. Why'd you do it, Elise?
I didn't do anything. Except James Andrew.
Who do you think got his key?
Oh. I was still really wrong about what I thought that was.
You two backing up each other's alibis means bupkis.
You were canoodling and you were cahooting to kill.
We cahooted to keep quiet about our affair.
Adulteresses totally get the shaft in estate law.
I couldn't kill anybody with these hands.
Since I grew these puppies, my manicure means...
... I'm a mani-can't for manual labor.
You were a mani-can when it came to pointing a gun at Robber Rob...
-...and almost pulled the trigger. -As if. I never even saw the robber.
And even if I did....
Why is everybody pointing their gun at me?
There is no way I could pull the trigger on a gun. I'm too blinged out.
-You could have taken off the rings. -Would have taken forever.
Rob would have been out.
If she's telling the truth and didn't storm in on Rob robbing....
Our Robbing Hood's had us hoodwinked.
So the private investigator, the Pie-Maker and Chuck sought out their winking hood...
...at the Bellmen's headquarters.
I'll thank you to keep your sidearm holstered, sir, lest I be forced to lunge.
Well, at least it ain't another gun.
From one gentleman to another...
...allow me to apologize for our current situation.
I'd be receptive to that apology if there wasn't a knife pointed at my gullet.
You're a lying liar and a murderer. Both of which are bad--
One is worse. You slaughtered a senior citizen.
That'll buy you a ringside seat in hell.
You might get a refund on that ticket if you put the knife down.
Gustav was the victim of a tragic accident.
Born of good deeds, I might add.
Running from the scene was no accident.
Did you stop to consider the consequences of your good deeds?
Those weren't good for Gustav's wife, lawyer or legacy.
Well, actually, now that you mention it, I think I can make that right.
Gustav's will. It was in his safe.
Now that that's settled, I trust my quest to rob from the rich...
...and give to the poor may continue unabated.
Oh, hell, no.
You see, I plan on being real rich, and I wanna see your ass in jail.
I was afraid you might feel that way, so....
[SPEAKS IN LATIN]
[GRUNTS]
About time I get to do the gun pointing around here.
The facts were these:
Upon coming to the realization that his young wife...
...may only have married him for his money...
...Gustav found himself questioning whether he should rewrite his will.
Bellman Rob Wright afforded him the perfect plan.
Fake a robbery to learn his wife's true feelings.
But Daniel Hill discovered those feelings first.
He deserves the crème de la crème, not some sugar-stuffed Pop-Tart...
...with a helium voice and hooker heels.
One word from me and you are out of the will.
Though his lawyer shielded Gustav from his wife's treachery...
...in order to protect his pride...
...Gustav had not only seen her adulteress ways...
...but also the way Daniel Hill defended his good name and honor.
The billionaire resolved to leave his estate to his esquire.
When the Bellman arrived, Gustav refused to play his role.
Rob Wright insisted Gustav keep his end of the bargain.
Gustav insisted more emphatically that Rob leave his mansion.
WRIGHT: Give me the--
It was Gustav who would be the dearly departed...
...and Daniel Hill who would find the body he left behind...
...and pick up the pieces.
Gustav's revised will.
-You get the whole Hofer coffer. -Me?
All I ever did was give him my friendship.
That's all he wanted.
Now, let's talk about your next charitable donation.
While Emerson Cod was able to deliver good news...
...Lily Charles sought to convince her sister...
...that the mysterious Dwight was bad news.
Holy crap.
Lily knew Dwight dug up her daughter's grave...
...but she needed more proof than overturned dirt.
Lily had found the proof she sought.
Dwight had in his possession...
[LOCK RATTLING]
...the watch she believed was buried with Chuck.
Dwight, believing the girl-who-was-not-dead...
...stole back the watch he stole from her...
...set off to retrieve his stolen, stolen property.
The girl named Chuck, who had not been so lucky with death...
...learned her death had come back to haunt her...
...in the form of Dwight Dixon.
This left the Pie-Maker no choice.
In order to unearth Dwight Dixon's agenda...
...he must first unearth Chuck's father.
I keep waiting for the high to rush through my system.
And instead, I feel really nervous and uncomfortable.
An awkward hello, tender acceptance and a rushed goodbye.
Euphoric high barely figures in it. It's gonna be hard.
I don't think I realized that, and now it's too late to turn back.
It's not too late. We have options. We could leave town.
With Dwight knowing, you're willing to put...
...my emotional well-being before your deepest fears.
If I knew, I never would have alive-agained my mother.
And I had her for seven hours.
I'd rather chance Dwight than make you go through this.
When you lost your mother, you were alone. I have you.
You're the real swashbuckling do-gooder, and I love you.
I hope you still feel that way when this is over.
You ready?
I am ready, I think.
[ENGLISH SDH]