Columbo

Mr. Lang, the phone company tells me...

that you've only had this number for a few months,

and that it's a private number.

Someone who mixed up the ingredients,

falsified the formula...

You're under arrest for murder.

You see, this Mr. Smith has some sort of formula...

that he's trying to sell.

I found out that they actually use poisons when they make cosmetics.

Belladonna, aconite.

I need that formula.

Make me an offer.

Beautiful, isn't she?

Every time I go to the bathroom, there she is.

Next victim, please.

Plasma and sutures ready, nurse?

Oh, shut up, Karl.

Take courage, sir.

Just think how many years Dr. Frankenstein must've...

spent on his research.

Yes.

But he only made one little monster.

He didn't live in our jungle.

He didn't have to succeed.

He didn't have to... Oh, never mind, that's enough.

A miracle.

That's all I want.

That's all we've ever wanted. Right, Your Majesty?

Here's another variation on the caftan theme,

this one flowing and soft, in a soft print,

and with its sparkle and glamour right down the front.

Viveca, darling, what are you doing here,

peddling false eyelashes, huh?

David, love, where did you get the new hair piece?

Surely you don't make anything that clever?

Still my lover, huh? Now, don't be embarrassed...

because I caught you at a fashion show.

I used to butter up the designers, too, when business was bad.

Well, if those girls are wearing a sample of your new eye shadow,

Lang Cosmetics is in trouble.

My, what a sweet little dress.

Don't waste your ammunition, honey. My secretary, that's all. Shirley Blaine.

Sorry, love.

Viveca.

Seriously, darling I've been watching...

Beauty Mark's stocks go down the last two months. Now...

Well, since I always like to help a compatriot...

if they seem to be in trouble.

Mr. Lang, why don't you just go gobble up a pill company?

It isn't surprising, of course.

You haven't hit with a really good new product since you, uh,

pirated those French lipsticks two years ago.

Is that where you stole the silly eye shadow?

I'll always think of you as the queen of cosmetics.

But if things do get too bad, if you...

ever do need to get out of this crazy rollie-coaster business.

Oh, David, you innocent lamb,

are you in for a surprise.

Excuse me, Miss Scott. I think you dropped your program.

Oh, yes, how silly of me. Of course I did.

Bye-bye, darling.

I'll send flowers to your funeral.

Voila.

Yes.

The sun. I love the sun.

The Fountain of Youth stuff I'm not happy with yet.

And Vanish, I threw out.

It sounds too much like old-fashioned vanishing cream.

Oh, no, no, no, no. Miracle is right.

Because it is a miracle.

Imagine, a harmless cream that can actually make wrinkles disappear.

It's like alchemy.

It's the dream of the centuries.

It's what women have longed for since ancient Egypt.

Well, I went ahead and reserved the network television time.

But our credit's not very good,

so unless we can start mass production by the end of the month.

Of course we can.

And I want you to be ready with full-color inserts...

for all the fashion magazines.

Darling, we're going to put them all out of business.

When David Lang sees the... I told you...

Your Majesty.

Murch, dear.

Dear, come in. We were just talking...

Yes, yes.

The fruits of a whole year's labor, my most sublime accomplishment,

the dream of all mankind, the dream to save all our skins.

You're wobbling.

Yes, and I have hastened, my queen,

from a final secret testing of this elixir,

this masterpiece of my chemical genius.

Who told you to do any more testing?

What if one of your models talks?

I thought my orders were quite clear.

On the basis of last week's reports...

Those reports were wrong.

It was a fluke. I jumped the gun.

One little sample that broke down.

I tried combination after combination since.

This miracle of ours will never be any more useful for...

concealing wrinkles than axle grease.

I got your note on the back of the program, dear,

but I really haven't time to talk right now.

Oh, I... I just thought that...

you might like to see something that Mr. Lang did today.

Today I could care less what that devil did.

Not that I'm not grateful for my little pipeline, you understand.

Is something wrong, Miss Scott?

Acid stomach. What have you made a photocopy of now?

Oh. A check.

He didn't see me do it, of course,

but Mr. Lang went to the bank and got that check himself this afternoon.

And then he came back and locked it in a desk drawer.

I'm happy that David Lang has $200,000 to give anyone.

Who's Harry Smith, his bookie?

No, that's not his real name.

It's the name of a man who... who's only been to the office once or twice,

late at night, when nobody else is there.

Except you, of course.

I appreciate your efforts.

I was only there because Mr. Lang wanted to trick him.

You see, this Mr. Smith has some sort of formula that he's trying to sell.

And Mr. Lang asked me to bring in this older friend of mine and...

Mr. Smith rubbed some of the formula on... on her skin.

Then when Mr. Smith was gone, Mr. Lang...

tried to take scrapings from her cheek to analyze.

Go on.

Yes, but there wasn't any left.

Because whatever there was, I got.

What is that?

Well, on this really old woman...

that Mr. Smith brought with him the first time...

Watch.

Oh, sweetheart, you've got a smudge right there by your eye.

I do?

Yes, but I'll... I'll rub it off for you. Here, come sit down.

That's right. Sit right down.

Now, uh, close your eyes.

You know, that must be cigarette ash. I smoke much too much, too.

There. Keep your eyes shut.

There.

- Thank you, ma'am. - You're welcome.

Isn't that incredible?

Wrinkles just disappear, and it lasts all day.

Oh, Viveca, I don't know if you can beat him to this...

but you know how anxious I am to find a better position.

And the thought of a man like David Lang getting his hands on a...

discovery like this just makes me sick.

Shirley, tell me one thing.

What does Harry Smith look like?

Well, he... he's... he's about medium height,

thick brown hair, not more than 35 years old.

Why isn't your husband home yet?

Mrs. Kelly, I do not pay my lawyers to play squash!

You tell him... Oh, never mind.

So that's where it was.

How did you get in here?

You still keep it in the flower pot.

Well, at least you haven't forgotten that.

There are a lot of things I haven't forgotten, darling.

- What are you going to do with that? - Don't you know?

Peddle it to David Lang as a sample of your wares?

Don't worry, dear. I'm alone.

Poor old Murchison.

If he only knew. He really did work a miracle, didn't he?

He had some help.

Sure he did.

Someone who mixed up the ingredients, falsified the formula, stole it,

and is now going to sell it to the highest bidder?

Yeah, something like that, I guess.

No. Nothing like that.

Because we're going to put the thief away.

Are we?

Hello. This is Viveca Scott.

Yes, Scott. I'm a personal friend of the Chief's.

I want to be put through to him right away.

Yes, I'll wait.

You still like those, uh,

tequila cocktails with the organic cactus juice, right?

I've always thought that was an appropriate drink for you.

What's the matter, love? Are the police closed tonight for inventory?

You slimy little snake.

Oh, no, Vivi.

I'm your hairy little teddy bear. Remember me?

What do you want for the jar?

Uh-oh.

You can have the jar.

But, uh, it isn't worth very much without the formula.

We'll have to negotiate on that.

Where is it?

It's not written down anywhere?

It's mine.

Is it?

You stole it!

Prove it.

Karl, I need that formula.

Our sales are down. We've lost some exclusive outlets.

And that louse David Lang is closing in on me.

Miracle. I need Miracle.