The Columbo calendar year of 1974 got off to the most arresting start imaginable in the shape of Publish or Perish.
Not only were the opening credits an extraordinary combination of explosions and freeze frames, but consummate villain Jack Cassidy was back in his second appearance as a killer – this time sporting an evil moustache to accentuate his inherent wickedness.
A publishing backdrop, reassuringly familiar to fans of Murder by the Book, promised to make Publish or Perish a series highlight. But is it a the equivalent of an Allen Mallory best-selling novel, or an amateurish effort set to languish in the bargain bucket? Let’s set our clocks back to 18 January 1974 and find out…
Dramatis personae
Lieutenant Columbo: Peter Falk
Riley Greenleaf: Jack Cassidy
Allen Mallory: Mickey Spillane
Eddie Kane: John Chandler
Eileen McRae: Mariette Hartley
Jeffrey Neal: Jacques Aubuchon
David Chase: Alan Fudge
Wolpert: Jack Bender
Directed by: Robert Butler
Written by: Peter S. Fischer
Score by: Billy Goldenberg
Episode synopsis: Columbo Publish or Perish
Sleazy publisher Riley Greenleaf is up to no good. He has assassination in mind as he meets ice-cold hitman Eddie Kane at a garbage dump – the assassination, no less, of best-selling novelist Allen Mallory.
Psycho ‘Nam veteran Kane is indulging in his favourite past-time – lobbing homemade explosives around the dump with gay abandon. In between explosions, he and Greenleaf confirm the details of their fiendish plan. At 10.30pm that evening, Kane will slay Mallory in his office with a single shot to the heart. He will leave a door key on the floor and a .38 revolver in the basement car park – taking great care not to smudge Greenleaf’s prints from the gun.
As a crazy sweetener, Greenleaf also agrees to publish Kane’s book How to Blow Up Anything in 10 Easy Steps, much to the lunatic’s delight. The two then part, Greenleaf jimmying the lock of his car door and overtly scratching the paintwork before screeching away. Yes folks, it’s an opening scene packed with detail – and the plot’s only going to get thicker!
We next encounter Greenleaf at a swanky party thrown by his presumably arch-nemesis publisher, Jeffrey Neal. ‘Big Jeff’ (as no one calls him in the episode) is trying his best to impress ill-fated author Mallory, who has agreed to ditch Greenleaf and jump ship to the Neal Publishing house when his contract expires in three weeks – and he’ll be bringing his as-yet unfinished secret new novel with him. Mallory, you see, has made his name writing sex novels for Greenleaf. He’s hankering to turn his talent to more serious writing.
Greenleaf, seemingly sh*t-faced, creates a scene. When Mallory confirms he can’t wait to sever ties with his one-time publishing pal, Greenleaf gets nasty. “My dear friend, if you do you will die,” he hisses. And just in case witnesses hadn’t been paying enough attention, he squares up to Neal saying: “He’ll never write for you or anyone else, and I’ll see to it,” before shambling away. A shaken Mallory, meanwhile, heads off to his lonely vigil of dictating the final pages of said new book.
Our story now unfolds via an innovative three-way split-screen editing technique, where Mallory, Greenleaf and the skulking Eddie Kane go about their respective tasks. One moment the focus is on Greenleaf shouting vitriol at a barkeep in some dive in the Valley; the next we’re watching Kane glide ever closer to his unwitting prey.
At the critical moment Mallory hears a noise, spins round in his chair and is confronted by a gun-toting Kane, who fulfils his obligations by firing one shot to the heart. He then drops the key on the carpet, plants the gun in the basement and splits. Greenleaf, meanwhile, is hilariously securing his alibi by deliberately backing into the VW Camper of an elderly couple in the bar car park. He then spends the night in the drunk tank after challenging police officers to a rumble when found illegally parked.
Back at the Mallory murder scene in the small hours of the night, we find a weary Lieutenant Columbo desperate for a coffee pick-me-up. The investigations are disturbed by the appearance of a young transcription services pick-up boy, Wolpert, who turns up every night at the same time to collect Mallory’s tapes. This will be important later on. The police also uncover the planted murder weapon, which is whisked off to ballistics.
The following morning, brusque lawyer David Chase is demanding Columbo releases his client, Riley Greenleaf, from custody. But Columbo has need of Greenleaf’s input. He plays the Mallory tape, and Greenleaf is easily able to identify the voice, and is making to leave when the gunshot rings out.
Columbo confirms that Mallory was slain the night before, cue a marvelous example of faux grief from Greenleaf who bellows: “But WHO? WHY?” like any grieving BFF should. He can’t confirm where he was at 10.30pm the night before due to his heavy drinking, though. He also can’t identify the door key found at the scene, nor be sure whether the type of pistol he owns is a match for the murder weapon.
It’s looking grim for Greenleaf, but his smug lawyer shuts down the conversation and whisks his client away before he does anything more to incriminate himself. Columbo, instead, heads off to see Eileen McRae, a cohort of Jeffrey Neal, who was at the publisher’s party the night before and is set to become Mallory’s new agent.
Miss McRae spills the beans about how Mallory was planning to leave Greenleaf in the lurch to join Neal Publising, bringing his new novel with him. Such is the sensitivity surrounding the switch, McRae doesn’t believe Mallory would ever have mentioned the book to the greedy Greenleaf. Indeed, she seems to be the only person Mallory has discussed any part of the plot with, and then only in broad terms.
It’s an intriguing mystery, and will become even more so during Columbo’s next stop: Greenleaf’s palatial home. The publisher is decidedly more sheepish now, apologising for his earlier conduct and presenting an altogether more humble face to the police.
“Despite his lawyer begging him to keep his mouth shut, Greenleaf admits that he must have killed Mallory in a drunken haze.”
Instead of being angry, he seems resigned to his fate when Columbo reveals that the murder weapon is registered to Greenleaf, and that his prints were the only ones found on it. Despite his lawyer begging him to keep his mouth shut, Greenleaf admits that he must have killed Mallory in a drunken haze.
The three men then head outside to inspect Greenleaf’s car. There Columbo discovers that the door lock is broken, and there’s a big scratch on the paintwork. Greenleaf hadn’t even noticed, but then has a lightbulb moment of his own. He kept a spare key to Mallory’s office, as well as his gun, in the glove box. Both are missing. Could someone have stolen them to commit the crime?
These thoughts are put on hold by a phone call from Greenleaf’s insurance agent, which Chase goes to take. In his absence, Columbo asks about the damage to Greenleaf’s rear fender. Again, Greenleaf claims to have no notion of how this occurred. It is then that Chase returns, smugger than ever, to shut down the conversation once more. It turns out that Greenleaf has an alibi that even he doesn’t know about. At 10.30pm the night before, he was involved in a prang in the car park of the dive bar in Encino. It means he can’t have killed Mallory after all.
A relieved Greenleaf seems overcome with emotion. “All I can say is thank God those people contacted my insurance agent.” It’s only a tiny slip of the tongue, but Columbo picks up on it. Chase hadn’t mentioned whether there was one or more people involved in the prang, but Greenleaf referred to ‘those people’. Perhaps he’s starting to recall elements of the night before, the detective suggests?
“Perhaps he is. Subconsciously,” replies Chase, as deadpan as you like. “That’s probably it. His subconscious,” replies the Lieutenant. But regular viewers will know that the wily Columbo has filed this little snippet away for future reference.
Still, it looks for all the world as if someone is trying to frame Greenleaf, and that’s the line of investigation Columbo is duty bound to follow. During a brief visit to Greenleaf’s publishing HQ, the Lieutenant seeks info on who might have reason to do such a thing. Greenleaf has no answers, but Columbo leaves a parting thought in his ear: the door key left at the crime scene didn’t fit the lock. Why? Because Mallory had changed the lock 3 weeks earlier.
If this is the case, how did the killer get in to the office? The transcription tape proves that Mallory didn’t stop his work to let anyone in. In an echo of Death Lends a Hand‘s contact lens bait-and-switch, Columbo then slips a sucker punch to Greenleaf: there must be another key. If Columbo can find the person who has that key, he’ll find the killer.
Foolishly thinking this plays into his hands, Greenleaf gets a new key for the office cut and then arranges a rendez-vous with Kane at his suitably weird apartment. The publisher rigs a bottle of Champagne with poison, and suggests they drink a toast to Kane’s impending success as an author. The wild-eyed loon knocks back the good stuff like there’s no tomorrow – which indeed there won’t be, as the poison soon reduces him to a lifeless heap on the floor.
Not batting an eyelid, Greenleaf then uses Kane’s typewriter to poduce a book synopsis entitled Sixty Miles to Saigon (the title of Mallory’s secret book), which he addresses to himself under Kane’s name, backdating it by 9 months. Dropping one copy into a filing cabinet and tucking another in his jacket, Greenleaf merrily departs – having planted the newly cut key in Kane’s jacket. He’s also rigs a little explosion of his own: one which will leave police in no doubt that weirdo Kane has blown himself apart with one of his own devices. Got all that? Good…
Cut to the next day. Columbo is at a posh restaurant for a catch-up with Neal and McRae. Conversations surround the manuscript of Mallory’s book. The plot has been a tightly guarded secret, so much so that only Miss McRae has any real insight on its content. Indeed, she had suggested a crucial change to the conclusion of the book only a week before. Rather than kill of the central character, as Mallory had planned, she suggested a good alternative would be to send him off to a monastery.
While this might sound to us like the lamest story edit in history, there’s method behind the madness. Given Mallory’s sky-high profile, Universal Pictures had purchased the rights to the novel intending to use it as a Rock Hudson vehicle. As Neal explains: “For $100,000, you don’t kill off Rock Hudson.”
At that point Columbo is called away as word of Eddie Kane’s death reaches him. At the crime scene, he predictably finds both the book synopsis addressed to Greenleaf, and the key to Mallory’s office. All the pieces are falling into place.
Interrupting Greenleaf as he giggles through a (presumed) porn film in his private cinema screen, Columbo confronts the publisher about this new evidence. It’s clear Greenleaf knew Kane, so how does he explain having been sent the manuscript 9 months earlier?
The complexity and depth of Greenleaf’s scheming is highlighted here. He claims to have received the synopsis as dated, but realised that Kane was far too cuckoo to actually write it. Instead, he claims, he passed the idea on to Mallory. Naturally Kane was furious, and vowed revenge. Who knew he’d actually live up to his threats?
Seemingly painted into a corner, Columbo seeks Miss McRae’s advice on the manuscript. “It’s as if Alan dictated it himself,” she says after reading. And that throwaway comment sets off a trillion watt light in Columbo’s head.
Summoning Greenleaf to Mallory’s office, Columbo prepares to spring his trap. First off, he addresses the enduring problem of the key. They found a key in Kane’s pocket, and guess what? It fits the lock of the office door! Case closed then, says Greenleaf. That proves that Kane did it.
No sir, replies the Lieutenant. Because the lock on the door was changed again the day after the crime at Columbo’s insistence. There’s no way Kane could have had a copy of that key. And wasn’t Greenleaf the only person that knew about the importance of finding a key to fit the lock?
Greenleaf is swiftly losing his cool. Who cares about these little details? Surely all that matters is that Kane killed Mallory. He storms away, only be stoped in his tracks as Columbo yells: “Mr Wolpert!” down the corridor after him.
Greenleaf freezes, and the young transcription service lad emerges from a side door. Greenleaf denies knowing the lad, but Columbo calls him a liar outright. He’s been looking into Wolpert’s bank account, you see, and has seen some significant sums have been transferred in. Turns out that Wolpert has been slipping an extra tape of the transcripts to Greenleaf, who therefore knows every word of the secret book. Wolpert agrees that he’ll help police with their enquiries, and Columbo sends him home.
A seething Greenleaf isn’t about to give in, though. There’s still nothing to prove that he killed Mallory. That’s when Columbo delivers the sucker punch. “For $100,000, you don’t kill off Rock Hudson.”
Close scrutiny of Kane’s supposed book synopsis had revealed the book ended with the chief protagonist heading off to begin life in a monastery. It was the very ending Miss McRae had suggested to Mallory just a week before.
“How could Eddie Kane have written an ending 9 months ago that was only written last week?” Columbo asks. Greenleaf can only look away from Columbo’s steely gaze as credits roll…
Publish or Perish‘s best moment: Riley on the rampage
Interspersed over a period of 14 minutes, Riley Greenleaf’s faux drunk shenanigans as he aims to both incriminate and exonerate himself from the killing of Allen Mallory is some of the most enjoyable television ever recorded. Lurching from shambling aggression, outright rudeness and wicked fun, this is Jack Cassidy doing what he does best.
“Madame, in your condition I should call a plastic surgeon!”
Among the highlights of his drunken spree are him tossing money at a barkeep and suggesting he buys himself a personality. Better is to follow as he accosts lily-livered ‘Ralphie’ in the bar car park and delivers a glorious riposte to the nagging wife: “Madame, in your condition I should call a plastic surgeon!”
The joy of these scenes is that Cassidy delivers the lines with a mischevious smile on his face throughout. He’s clearly having a blast filming these scenes, and that sense of fun is absolutely contagious.
Read about the top 5 scenes from Publish or Perish here.
My opinion on Publish or Perish
An explosive episode – literally – from the opening credits to the last moments, Publish or Perish is a thrilling roller-coaster ride of an episode that gets better with every viewing. But be warned – it requires close attention throughout.
This is a complex crime. Following all the aspects of the key, the fingerprints on the gun and Greenleaf’s drunken alibi is tricky enough. Add to that the layers of intrigue that are revealed as the episode goes on (including the office lock changes, plot update to Mallory’s book and Greenleaf intercepting the transcription tapes) and you have a very tangled web.
“Publish or Perish is a thrilling roller-coaster ride of an episode that gets better with every viewing.”
Publish or Perish is a faster-paced Columbo than we’re used to – particularly at a stage in the series’ development where the more ponderous 90-minute episodes were padded out mercilessly, slowing the pacing (Any Old Port in a Storm and Candidate for Crime chief examples). Here, if the viewer lets their attention wander they may well lose a thread and find it hard to pick up again.
Some critics, including the legendary Mark Dawidziak, author of Columbo Bible The Columbo Phile, have suggested that Publish could have benefitted from the longer running time. I respectfully disagree. It’s an intricate plot, but the pacing is terrific. An extra 15 minutes would have hurt it, and the storytellers got creative when they needed to to shoehorn it all in.
Case in point: as the tension rises and the storyline switches from Greenleaf out drinking to assassin Kane and victim Mallory hard at work, the editors adopted innovative split-screen techniques allowing each perspective to be advanced in real-time alongside the others. It’s brilliantly done – as good as the iconic montage effect on Robert Culp’s glasses in Death Lends a Hand.
So, yes, it’s complex but is handled extremely well. Just don’t switch off, because you will miss something important – probably related to one of the central clues about keys that don’t fit in locks, or later do when they shouldn’t. If that sounds confusing, it is, making the lead up to the ‘gotcha’ moment less accessible than in some other episodes.
“To my mind Publish or Perish is Jack’s Cassidy’s finest Columbo hour. He’s at his very, very best here.”
Those factors could be one reason why Publish is generally regarded as the least of Jack Cassidy’s three Columbo outings. And in fairness the competition is red-hot, with Season 1’s Murder by the Book a seminal piece of TV by anyone’s reckoning, and Now You See Him from Season 5 a firm favourite due to the enduring appeal of the magic act theme.
But to my mind Publish is Jack’s finest Columbo hour. Not only does it deliver a fascinating murder mystery, it’s also extremely droll, satirical, sharply scripted and allows Jack to have a whole heap of fun.
As referenced above in the ‘Best moment’ section, you just know that Jack was having a ball throughout. I really think he’s at his very, very best here. Every scene he’s in is SOLID GOLD, and it really makes the heart sing to see him tackling the role with such gusto.
As a result all the other stars, including Peter Falk, take something of a back seat. It doesn’t hurt the episode, though. In fact this is one of the best ensemble performances of any episode. Everyone adds value and does their bit to elevate proceedings.
Take John Chandler as Eddie Kane. He’s superbly cast as the loony Vietnam veteran, whose demeanour switches from ice cold killer to cuddly puppy in the opening moments when Greenleaf confirms he wants to publish his book on bombs. This guy’s got a serious screw loose.
Alan Fudge (in the first of three Columbo outings) is excellent as Greenleaf’s condescending lawyer David Chase, while young Wolpert’s palpable sense of fear at being implicated in a murder is well portrayed by Jack Bender – better known for his directorial efforts on shows including Lost, Alias and The Sopranos.
In the role of Jeffrey Neal, Jacques Aubuchon offers us a pleasant slice of upper class affability. Neal’s relationship with Mariette Hartley’s Eileen McRae is an interesting aside. Was he wanting to wine, dine, 69 her? Or were they simply good friends? Greenleaf describes McRae as a ‘concubine’ early in the episode, so there’s more going on than meets the eye. It all adds to the plausibility of the story, giving depth to the characters.
Finally, in a very nice touch, real-life mystery writer Mickey Spillane was cast as Allen Mallory. His shocked expression when confronted with certain death really tugs at the heart strings, providing an emotional punch to off-set all the fun.
And this episode really is fun with a capital F. Quite aside from Jack chewing up the scenery, there are a lot of laughs to be had. The episode takes a satirical swipe at the sleazy world of sex publications, highlighted with Columbo wondering what type of book the cover shoot he’s interrupted is for. “Anthropology,” is Greenleaf’s poker-faced response.
The joke’s on Columbo several times at the flashy restaurant, too. First the snooty valet ignores the Lieutenant to oil up to a higher-value customer, not even giving him a coupon. “Listen mister, I’ll remember your car,” he says.
Inside, after ordering a chilli and an ice tea, Columbo is stung by the high price of the bill – $6 (equivalent to $30 today). “Excuse me, uh, no, I think there’s a mistake,” he tells an officious waiter. “I had the chili and the iced tea.” The waiter adjusts the bill, realising his mistake. But the price goes up to $6.75. “I forgot to add the ice tea,” the waiter explains.
As always, no review is complete without looking at the flipside of what didn’t work so well. And in Publish or Perish, the convoluted plot takes as well as gives, with the central and oft-referred to OFFICE DOOR KEY clue never fully realised.
Greenleaf’s clever plotting has managed to secure him an iron-clad alibi. His deft use and disposal of Eddie Kane is essential to his claims that a wronged Kane was out for revenge against he and Mallory. Columbo’s excellent police work ultimately has Greenleaf cornered, but it ends up not being because of the key – bizarre when the dashed key has been referenced about a thousand times throughout the episode!
The key should be the thing that hangs him. After all, only Greenleaf knew that when Columbo found a key to fit the lock, he’d find the killer. The insinuation, therefore, can only be that Greenleaf planted the key on Kane, as they certainly knew each other. Yet when Columbo references the key at the episode’s conclusion, it simply peters out, Greenleaf agreeing that it’s suspicious without it seeming crucial.
Only the incongruity with the backdated manuscript featuring Miss McRae’s ending is really damning. That combined with the other circumstantial evidence might well be enough to convict, but I feel like this evidence is really delivered to the viewer in the wrong order.
“Publish or Perish isn’t perfect, but it does boast that most wondrous thing: Jack Cassidy in full flight.”
Still, while the ending isn’t ideal it doesn’t damn the whole piece. Many of the best Columbo episodes have relatively weak conclusions. Conversely, some poorer ones have sensational gotchas. The viewer must weigh up how much the plot holes get in the way of their enjoyment. When it comes to Publish or Perish, the ride to get here is such a blast that its shortcomings can largely be forgiven.
So there we have it. Publish or Perish isn’t perfect, but pay it close attention and the rewards are there for all to see – not least that most wondrous sight of Jack Cassidy in full flight.
Did you know?
Contrary to what we’re shown in the episode, Chasen’s Restaurant, where Columbo met with Miss McRae and Jeffrey Neal, is famed for its chilli!
The restaurant was a well-known hang-out for the great and the good of Hollywood and its chilli was such a hit that no less a star than Elizabeth Taylor reportedly had 10 quarts of it shipped out to Rome to see her through the filming of Cleopatra.
Someone should tell this waiter about the restaurant’s fine chilli heritage, eh?
How I rate ’em
Jack Cassidy’s tour de force performance makes Publish or Perish so enjoyable that it achieves that most difficult of tasks and even outshines Murder by the Book, slipping into a rostrum position!
Nearly a third of the way through the Columbo catalog and Suitable for Framing stays out in front, largely due to the strength of its gotcha moment. Will it ever be toppled? Stay tuned! And you can read any of my past episode reviews via the links below.
- Suitable for Framing
- Publish or Perish
- Double Shock
- Murder by the Book
- Death Lends a Hand
- A Stitch in Crime
- Double Exposure
- Lady in Waiting
- Any Old Port in a Storm
- Prescription: Murder
- The Most Crucial Game
- Etude in Black
- Candidate for Crime
- Greenhouse Jungle
- Requiem for a Falling Star
- Blueprint for Murder
- Ransom for a Dead Man
- Dead Weight
- The Most Dangerous Match
- Lovely but Lethal
- Short Fuse
- Dagger of the Mind
This episode splits opinion, so do let me know how you rate it in the comments section below! Thanks a million for reading, and I’ll be back soon with the next chronological Columbo outing – the robot-tastic Mind Over Mayhem.
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If the soon to be murdered author was just finishing off the manuscript on the night of his death how would molpert of the manuscript service have got the tapes and the new ending been known to Greenleaf?
From https://columbophile.com/2018/02/10/publish-or-perish-a-second-opinion/:
“But to top it all off, the Rock Hudson ending has a major flaw. How does Riley Greenleaf, listening to Mallory’s dictation, write a synopsis containing the new ending? According to Eileen McRae, in the new ending, the hero ‘says goodbye to the material world, and goes off to a monastery.’
“Before being shot, Mallory begins to dictate this ending. He dictates: ‘He knew which way he would have to turn. Out across the plains was the monastery of St. Ignatius, offering him hope and a chance to wash away the wounds of war that had brutalized him.’ We don’t know if he actually goes there, if he reconsiders, if someone or something intervenes, because Mallory never gets the chance to write the end of his book. But what we do know is that ‘the monastery at St. Ignatius’ is part of the final tape Mallory is dictating to, as he says, ‘wrap it up for the first draft.’
“So how did ‘the monastery at St. Ignatius’ dictation get to Norman Wolpert and hence to Riley Greenleaf? Columbo seizes both the tape recorder and the final tape. He plays part of the tape to Greenleaf at the police station. The final tape never gets to the Lewis Manuscript Service.”
I enjoyed this episode. It is one that needs to be followed keenly throughout.
Just one more thing that bothers me (in the words of our hero), if Mallory had had the lock changed because he was worried about someone stealing his manuscript, or coming after him for any reason, why would he take the risk of leaving the door open with his back to it? I understand it was hot and he had the window open (as the air-conditioner was broken) and wanted a cross-breeze, so that kind of explains it. But surely fear and his need of security would prevail over keeping cool? Interested in other’s views?
To each their own, but this is an episode I don’t rate so highly.
It’s like watching “Gone Girl” by David Fincher. A movie rated highly by folks who never saw “Panic Room,” or are aware Fincher directed that much-better, more-interesting, less-convoluted film.
Publish takes a ho-hum idea and stretches it out interminably, w/ comic moments taking center stage. “Eddie” sure was pretty dumb for a bomb maker, too.
Give me a show that takes a familiar twist, yet is clever and takes unexpected turns. Publish doesn’t do that for me. The “key” bit is WAY drawn-out, as is the “manuscript mystery.”
Jack Cassidy at his oily best! He’s fantastic!
Anyone notice the coffee thermos at 20:50? Was it reused by Johnny Cash in “Swan Song?” Haha – low budget.
The Season 3 thermos. The Season 4 budget must have provided for a new one, because the one Columbo carries when first arriving at the crime scene in “An Exercise in Fatality” is different.
Did anyone catch James B. Sikking as the officer who finds the murder weapon? Apparently, Howard Hunter was a uniformed cop for the LAPD before rising to Lieutenant and SWAT team commander on Hill Street Blues.
Surprised you’re the only one to point it out! Also surprised that the appearance of the lovely Mariette Hartley in this episode merited only a passing reference. 🙂
I love the performance of the locksmith, and his disappointed face when he gets sent away by Columbo.
Yes, that is cute! It’s as if he was hoping to be there for a big arrest and Columbo spoiled his party!
I’ve always found the locksmith actor so familiar but I never knew why until I learned he was an accomplished character actor by the name of George Brenlin. Sadly he passed in 1986 but he was quite prolific in the 60s and 70s which is why I remember him so well. I’ll always love his best line in this episode when asked about the lock: “He did.”
Doesn’t “Publish or Perish” borrow its basic premise from “Murder By the Book” – the idea that an author is worth more dead than alive by his partner?
Certainly the similarities are obvious between Murder By the Book and Publish or Perish. The killer in both is played by
Jack Cassidy and in both the victim is the killer’s meal ticket that
the killer doesn’t tolerate a break in the contract and it involves
a novelist that wants to break away to concentrate in a different
direction. in Murder By the book, the murderer kills the novelist
and the woman that’s blackmailing him but in Publish or Perish
the murderer hires an hitman to kill the novelist and then murders
the hitman.
Jack Cassidy is excellent in both episodes as the smirking and
sometimes amusing cold blooded killer. Despite some errors, both episodes are enjoyable but Murder By the Book is perhaps
better.
I loved Publish or Perish and JC’s acting in it, but I cannot rate it in the top 10 because to me the whole key business is too much of a gaping hole in the plot. The idea that “how did he get in” would be given such importance, when any kid can guess that perhaps the door was unlocked, is too obvious to ignore. And then to add on 3 layers of lock changes to deal with this “problem”, rather than simply saying “prove that the door was locked” just weakened the mystery significantly. Still, I’d rate it about 15th.
Publish or Perish is so funny but really only works when being funny. Yet another example of a Columbo ep that has only one or two giant matzoh balls blocking it from achieving perfection.
It’s a good, gripping episode, that keeps you seated from the get go. Columbo is on top form in this one. I still have few problems with the plot:
1) The motive for killing is unrealistic – no way a man like Riley, opportunistic businessman would kill someone just because he’s signing for another publisher – in other words, he has nothing to gain, only to risk his freedom. It would be much more logical if he’s killed Jeffrey Neal, his rival publisher.
2) I know it’s not a staple of Columbo shows, but it bothers me that Lt. is throughout all episodes dismissing people who might be heavily involved in the incident, and quickly jumps to the one and only one person – the killer. For example, the young guy who came at the murder scene to collect the tape, wouldn’t he be an ideal person to be heavily questioned at that time? But Columbo just says to let him go
3) Riley went over the top with planting evidences against himself. Even if we can agree that it was all clever and fine until he killed Eddie, why on Earth would he want police to tie him to Eddie and make up the story about Eddie approaching him earlier. It just rises suspicion. Planting key was enough, and he could just stop then. The police would have nothing to go on, and would most probably list this one as Eddie’s doing.
This is from memory, but I think that Riley has some sort of insurance policy on Allan Mallory, which is no longer valid when their contract expires and Mallory has already signed a new contract with another publisher.
Riley wants to draw attention to himself at first, as he knows he would be the first person the police would suspect, then he gives them a perfect alibi and a perfect patsy, the man who actually committed the murder for him.
As I’ve said elsewhere, Riley has spent years reading the “garbage” that his company publishes, and may well be subconsciously acting out one of his own over-plotted schemes.
To answer you second point, in this case I think that Columbo is immediately suspicious of Greenleaf because his alibi is just oh so convenient and melodramatic, and because he (Riley, not Jack Cassidy) is not a very good actor.
Columbo does investigate the young man from the manuscript service, and he is indeed up to something that could lose him his job, but as the boy says, he’s nothing to do with any murder.
I am not sure the whole key plot makes any sense whatsoever. All I can see is a load of questions:
* Why does Greenleaf want Kane to leave a key there in the first place? Greenleaf has his alibi, he should be in the clear, just so long as Kane doesn’t give the game away.
* When it transpires that the key left is no good, why is Greenleaf fussed. OK, Colombo cons him, but what is the Lieut really saying? That the killer turns up with two keys, opens the door with key number 2 and leaves key number 1 on the floor for no reason whatsoever? Palpable nonsense. The only solution is the real one, the killer turns up with the wrong key but gets in some other way. Why did Greenleaf just not wait for this obvious fact to become clear to everyone?
* Where does Greenleaf magic up key number 3 from (or key number 1 come to that)? If it was that easy, no-one would bother fitting locks. If he has used some kind of genius locksmith, that guy is now privy to his secrets.Should he be killed too?
* When Greenleaf has done away with Kane, why not remove anything that connects him with Kane and get the hell out. As I have said above, he has his alibi, if Kane is not suspected of being connected, it is case game set and match to Greenleaf. Instead, Greenleaf goes out his way to point out the very connections he should hide, and hands the match to the good Lieutenant on a plate.
Hi John. Greenleaf was the obvious suspect in Alan Mallory’s murder, and wanted to make it look like somebody knew that and framed him. It might be true that his plan was over-plotted, but he had probably read a great deal of his own bad fiction and remembered some of it “subconsciously”.
I don’t have a good answer to the key conundrum (maybe he was a locksmith before he became a publisher?) but I think we have to assume that Columbo’s writers were at least as clever as we are, if not more so.
That said, I still don’t understand the significance of the big reveal at the end of “Murder With Too Many Notes”. No spoilers, but that is my personal “So what?” Columbo moment.
“Maybe he was a locksmith before he became a publisher – but I think we have to assume that Columbo’s writers were at least as clever as we are, if not more so. ”
Given the fact that this is fiction and that you seeking to defend the scriptwriters, I think you have to look at what they tell us, and not add to it by inventing further fictions. They don’t say Greenleaf was a locksmith, 99.9% of people aren’t, so he wasn’t.
I think if the entire key thing had been dropped, the episode would have worked better, with just a few tweaks.
Hi John. Sorry, when I wrote my remark about Greenleaf maybe being a locksmith in a former career, I should have added for the benefit of new readers.
Hi John. Sorry, when I wrote my remark about Greenleaf maybe being a locksmith in a former career, I should have added “Ba-dum-dum! Tcha!” for the benefit of new readers.
(That’l teach me to use put around my sound effects. Wrong sort of cymbals).
You know, those arrow things? Goodnight,Dick.
Hi John. As you may have gathered by now, I was only joking when I said that Riley Greenleaf might have been a locksmith before he became a publisher. And besides, we hear him making a phone call asking for the 3rd key to be made.
But the 1st key is easy! That was Riley’s own key to the original lock on the door. There were two keys to that lock, the landlord gave one to Allen Mallory and the other to Riley Greenleaf. That much at least is all perfectly above board.
I do take your point about how difficult it would be for Riley’s “I’ll make it worth his while” locksmith to make a duplicate key without any access to an existing key, and for all this to be done without anyone else in the office building noticing.
All I can offer here is further speculation. As we don’t see anyone else in connection with the other offices, maybe Allen’s office was the only one in use in that part of the building at that time? Nobody seems to have been bothered by Columbo’s locksmith changing the entire lock the day after the murder. (I know, I know, the writer doesn’t tell us any of this, I’m just speculating).
And given that the whole key thing was an elaborate trap set by Columbo, the police might have been well aware of Riley’s locksmith arriving and somehow magically making a duplicate key, but turned a glass eye.
And you are quite right, whoever it was that Riley called, and whoever it was that made the duplicate key, would be well aware of what Riley had done, after the fact in Mallory’s case and before the fact in Eddie Kane’s.
1) Greenleaf wanted it to look like “the real killer” was framing Greenleaf, by leaving Greenleaf’s key at the scene of the crime.
2) Greenleaf panicked. Like many Columbo villains, he became overcommitted to the story he was telling Columbo. And the story was that the killer had a key, so he felt he needed to give the killer a key that fit the lock. Sure, it’s a bad idea. Greenleaf ought to have realized that Kane got in _somehow_ without the correct key and just left it at that. But he was caught up in the process of selling the Lieutenant on a specific theory of the crime.
3) Presumably he got a locksmith to get a key for the new lock. It’s really not that hard to do. ” If it was that easy, no-one would bother fitting locks.” The existence of locksmiths doesn’t make using their services a sensible idea as part of a criminal scheme in general. Breaking and entering is a lot cheaper. And locksmiths likely notice if keys they’ve just fitted correspond to places that have been burgled.
In this case, Greenleaf was a work colleague of the deceased. I mean, sure, _getting_ the key was unnecessary and a bad idea. But it wasn’t an implausible idea.
4) Again, as often happens in Columbo episodes, Greenleaf overcommits his ego to trying to sell a version of the crime to Columbo. Many of the baddies in Columbo murder mysteries would get away with it if they simply shut up and did not do anything to self-incriminate after the fact.
Well said. Yes, Columbo gives ’em enough rope to hang themselves. It’s the whole premise of the series.
How do Chasen’s produce a bowl of Chilli within 2 minutes when it is not even on the menu? Are we to supposes they keep dozens of dishes on the go in case some crackpot turns up and asks for them? Or do we think they just risked their reputation by just opening a tin? And why doesn’t Columbo take advantage of their extensive menu? We know from other episodes that he is not above enjoying real food.
The restaurant looks pretty ghastly mind, not surprised they really did do chilli.
So they offered him somewhat chilly chili.
Because he was paying for the meal himself. I’m sure he picked chili because A. He likes chili, and B. He didn’t think it was going to be as expensive as it was. Based on inflation, Columbo’s $6.75 cent bill for chili and a tea is around $30 in today’s prices.
Even if one of the others had offered to pick up his bill, Columbo probably would have still picked chili, because when it came to nice people, Columbo never took advantage of their charitable deeds, and again, would figure chili was an inexpensive menu item. The only time we ever see him splurge is when he sticks Hugh Creighton for a steak and a bunch of sides in “Murder of a Rock Star.”
Chasen’s produces a bowl of chili in two minutes because 1. They’re in a T.V. show, and they have to get him the chili in that amount of time to get the scene over with in a reasonable amount of time, or B. Because if they are known for chili, it’s possible they make a big batch at the start of the day as it would be a reasonably popular menu item. According to trivia I read, Elizabeth Taylor had 10 quarts of it shipped to the set while she was filming “Cleopatra.”
Columbo’s capsule recollection of “Candidate for Crime” was a nice…and rare…nod to the show’s continuity. But since it presumably happened just a few months before the events of this episode, wouldn’t Greenleaf have known the details without Columbo having to go into such specifics? I imagine it was in all the papers.
And this is the first time I’ve ever seen film footage of the interior of the historic Chasen’s. And it looks a little…dumpy…doesn’t it? :O
Perhaps the explanation in Publish Or Perish is that Riley Greenleaf was out of the country at the time and missed the newspaper coverage?
There is a similar situation in Columbo Goes to College where Rowe Sr and Rowe Jr should know who Columbo is after the events of Agenda For Murder and Columbo Cries Wolf.
“Simpson, eh? I’ll remember that name.”
I would think every one of Columbo’s suspects would know who he is by this time in the show! He must get headlines for all his catches! Maybe these smart people don’t bother to read the newspaper.
Good point Elaine. Columbo’s villains are so high profile that he and Dog should be treated like the Batman & Robin of Los Angeles.
I kind of suspect that Columbo went to great lengths to keep his name out of the newspapers, making sure his successes were simply credited to the LAPD Homicide Division. That way, he maintained his anonymity, and preserved his greatest asset…that suspects considered him nothing more than a bumbling fool. 🙂
Thanks Gene. That is a rational explanation for Columbo’s anonymity within the context of the show. So, he isn’t “Batman” after all, he’s more like Bruce Wayne.
Rich Mean White Guy suddenly and magically, for no plausible reason, becomes Rich Crazy-Psycho Violent Pure-Evil White Guy. In other words, this is a Columbo episode.
It might not have been all that sudden. Riley Greenleaf seems like a pretty rotten person from the get go, and for all we know this isn’t his first rodeo.
Seems like a simplistic criticism.
I find it very apposite. Typical anti-White (and anti-Christian) Jewish tripe
Please peddle your antisemitism elsewhere. A.D.’s comment was a reasonable view of the prototypical Columbo villain: clever rich white men (for the most part) who should have had numerous means at their fingertips to redress whatever obstacles befell them, short of murder, but turn to homicide without a moment’s hesitation. Then again, if they hadn’t, Columbo would have had no clever, upper-class murders to solve.
This is a minor point. But when Greenleaf asks Kane how he got into Mallory’s office to commit the murder, Kane tells him “the door was open.”
But a few scenes later, when Columbo says “the door was open” to Greenleaf, Greenleaf seems genuinely surprised. Why is he surprised? He already knew that.
Because Greenleaf can’t exactly admit to Columbo that he already knew the door was open, can he? He seems surprised because he’s trying to seem surprised (and doing a good job), not because he’s genuinely surprised.
episode sucks except for cassidy. No One can come up the with logical answer-the door was unlocked or open? Even more disturbing- Cassidy would of listened to his lawyer and not said a word (knowing he had an airtight alibi)
” Cassidy would of listened to his lawyer and not said a word (knowing he had an airtight alibi)”
There goes every episode of Columbo, ever.
The basic m.o. of the series is that the killers always talk too much. They’re arrogant and think they are much smarter than Columbo.
Yes, Columbo pretends to be not too smart and gives the killers enough rope to hang themselves. With a few exceptions, most episodes of Columbo are reworkings of Prescription Murder.
I’ll never understand why Jack Cassidy wasn’t a major star. He was such a good actor but always a guest. Remember him as Ted Baxter’s brother on MTM? Wonderful.
Look him up on imdb and you’ll learn that he was a major star in his day recognized for being multitalented on stage and screen and across genres. His accidental death at the age of 49 was a blow to his movie acting career that was on the verge of taking off.
Cassidy was bipolar, and I doubt that was treated the same way then as it is in this day an age. I have a feeling that he self-medicated through alcohol, and was an alcoholic as a result of it.
I imagine that hampered him in his career. Also, due to his bipolar nature, not only did he once water his lawn sans clothing, but one day, Shirley Jones found him reading in a corner in the nude and when she told him they had to go somewhere, he replied, “I know now that I’m Christ.”
Also, and not his fault, but he had a look that made him much more perfect in villainous roles, and once Hollywood casts you as a type, you’re that type.
Not being judgmental at all. He’s great in everything he did. But I’d guess all of those factors combined to keep major stardom from him.
Funny you bring up Ted Baxter. He was actually offered that role and turned it down, not wanting to commit to a TV series. Ted Knight got it instead, and it went a long way to furthering his career.
“I have a feeling that he self-medicated through alcohol, and was an alcoholic as a result of it.”
This was a very common problem with actors at the time (and even today?) An entire generation of English actors are all known as raging alcoholics: O’Toole, Harris, Burton,
etc.
How did Greenleaf get a key cut for the new lock ? Wouldn’t he need a key for the locksmith to copy – or could a locksmith visit the lock and create a key ? (is that possible ?)
It has to be possible. Imagine you forget or lose your house key. How else would the locksmith that you call for help create a new key, if the lonesome lock is all he has to work with?
Before killing Eddie Kane, Greenleaf phones somebody, obviously a good friend of his, who regularly helps him out when he needs keys to certain office doors. This person creates the new key which Greenleaf then places on Kane’s keychain.
If you lost your house key I reckon a locksmith would change your lock rather than reverse engineer a key from it. Maybe not, but to do that it would surely require time physically manipulating the lock. And this particular lock is part of an active murder scene. (Do we know if the offices are shared or wholly owned by Greenleaf ? If the latter it would make the job easier for him, but if so surely he would have known Columbo changed the lock ?)
Let me quote Columbo in “Troubled Waters”:
“My brother in law has an auto repair shop. They bring in those wrecks. A lot of times they don’t have keys. He makes the key. He’s got a tool: a Curtis clipper.”
So it is possible for a locksmith to create a second key without having the original key and without changing the lock.
Greenleaf’s friend creates the key a day or two days after Columbo’s investigation at the crime scene. At that time there is no need for further police investigation in this particular office.
And Columbo wisely keeps it a secret that he had changed the lock, so Greenleaf traps himself by placing a key at Kane’s keychain which Kane couldn’t possibly have used in the night of the murder.
The Curtis clipper creates a key based on the VIN. Each vehicle has a code and the clipper creates a key using that code. It doesn’t read the shape of the key from the lock.
Generally speaking, locksmiths replace entire lock assemblies if a key is lost. They don’t use the lock itself to infer the shape of a key. I suppose that might be possible, but it’s much simpler to replace the lock.
I had a cat sitter do this when I was away. (A dubious decision on her part.)
It can be done by a technique called ‘impressioning’ but it is a specialist and laborious job and ideally would be performed in a workshop. It would definitely involve a specialist locksmith and a lot of time. Meanwhile, other residents of the block would see the locksmith at work and would be curious as to what exactly was going on, Utterly implausible.
Yes, locksmiths don’t create new keys except from old keys. If the key is lost, they replace the lock.
This is the biggest flaw in the episode. Even if it were practical to “clone” a lock and make a key from it (the article that Columbophile linked below doesn’t make it sound easy), to send your favorite locksmith to a murder scene to do it and get the key made by “this afternoon,” and not expect the locksmith or someone at the building to question it, strains credibility. As a poster mentioned, if Greenleaf rented the office or owned the building, maybe he could get away with it. (Are we supposed to assume that by his having a key to give to Eddie in the first place?) I also don’t care for the idea of Greenleaf calmly typing up a synopsis of the book after murdering Kane. Then when that’s done, he uses Kane’s manuscript, apparently, to find a method to blow Eddie up, which he does in a timed explosion after his getaway…Well, Jack Cassidy always seems like a Renaissance man!
This episode is elaborately plotted, but not more credible for all that. That’s why it’s not a favorite of mine, despite Jack Cassidy’s stellar work.
You are right, it is a gaping plot hole. Of course, a murder suspect cannot just get someone to roll up and get a key cut for the door of the crime scene. You can tell it is an impossibility because the script does not address how it was done; they are just hoping viewers can’t be bothered to ask.
It’s funny that in two of his three episodes Jack Cassidy kills writers, and in the third one the victim is shot while typing… Maybe Jack had some grudge against writers))
Nice catch. This could also explain Jack Cassidy’s early death: Obviously Jack detested writing and reading, so he didn’t pay attention to the remark “Caution: Cigarette smoking might be hazardous to your health” on the pack of the very cigarette that caused the fire in which he burnt.
Too soon.
LOL!!
Oh dear, you seem to have bypassed your good taste chip.
This is just because I can never forgive Jack Cassidy his carelessness after he was so reliable for causing corpses on the show in a smart way. I would have liked to see more returning guest appearances of him and am angry with him being so lethally stupid. This is also why when it comes to choosing the number one actor of first class Columbo villains, I never name Jack Cassidy and Robert Culp instead.
Personal preference for me, Columbologist. Cassidy was a brilliant killer, but I give Culp the edge for playing three (In my mind) more varied killer performances. I don’t see much of a difference in Ken Franklin and Riley Greenleaf. But if I compare Brimmer to Paul Hanlon to Bart Keppel, Culp gives us three killers with three extremely varied characterizations.
Culp also took the added step of varying his appearance just enough to make all three visually different from the others. Just the glasses makes the viewer make a visual distinction between Brimmer, vs. Hanlon, and Keppel. Cassidy and Pleasence are tied for second favorite.
And it comes down to episode enjoyment. I like Culp’s overall episodes better. Ironically, “Murder by the Book is my least favorite overall of Cassidy’s.
Yes, Nick, indeed “Murder by the Book” ranks awfully low in my book, too. It has just missed being in my Top 50. This is not because of Jack Cassidy, who is the big bonus of the episode (besides Spielberg’s cinematographic genius), but because of the script’s weaknesses. Also the Santini appearance benefits from Cassidy but not from the episode’s teleplay. Concerning the Cassidy crimes, I can only count “Publish or Perish” among the group of masterpieces.
But among the Robert Culp cases, two can make it into my Top 4, and the third one which is “The Most Crucial Game” still sits nicely within my Top 20. Too sad that when Culp returned for “Columbo goes to College” in the revival era, although he performs a dislikable character again, we are not pleased with Columbo making his fourth strike against Culp as the main culprit.
I asked CP on Twitter, Columbologist, if he could go back in time and replace one of the new Columbo killers with Cassidy, who he’d pick. He said Foxworth in “Grand Deceptions,” as the episode needed a charismatic killer and he’s have enjoyed seeing Culp kill his victim ninja-style. I can kind of see it. Culp would have made an excellent Frank Braille.
And yeah, I love Cassidy in MBTB, and Lilly La Sanka is a hoot, and visually, it’s stunning, but I just don’t get hooked by the murder and the way things play out as I do in other episodes. I understand why people love it, I just don’t quite love it the same way.
Hi Nick. I agree that Robert Culp was a fine actor, and I enjoy all (four) of his Columbo appearances, but could you go into a little more detail please about how varied his characterizations were?
To me, Brimmer, Hanlon, Keppel (and Rowe) are all pretty much the same nasty person. OK, so Brimmer and Keppel are openly bad tempered, whereas Keppel is more controlled, and Rowe is a jerk, but that’s about it for me.
I am not in any way criticizing Robert Culp’s range, as I saw him recently in two episodes of The Outer Limits and an episode of The Love Boat.
He plays nice guys in all of them, and makes even a far fetched science fiction story seem plausible by behaving like a “real” person would, but his Columbo characters are so similar to each other it makes me wonder why the Lieutenant never recognizes him.
I’ll be happy if you can prove me wrong, but it takes more than a pair of glasses or a mustache to play a completely different personality.
I feel like his Brimmer characterization is completey different from Keppel and Hanlon. Number one because Brimmer is a completely atypical Columbo baddie. Not only is his murder accidental, but unlike every other Columbo killer to grace the series, he does not add to that death with another killing. He doesn’t kill a blackmailer, or kill someone as part of a frame-up.
He also doesn’t go overboard on a frame-up of someone living either. He doesn’t go out of his way to try to frame the golf pro Lenore was having an affair with, or any random guy to get Columbo off of his trail. He spins his wheels, sure, but that’s all. When Columbo starts getting too close, he makes a half-hearted attempt to bribe him with a better job, but that’s the extent.
To me, his characterization of Brimmer is exactly what the character is. A guy who lost his temper, killed someone, and, like any panicked person, wants to hide his involvement and not get caught. But he makes no attempt to ruin anyone else’s life to cover his own @ss, and that’s another trait that’s incredibly rare from a killer.
I also feel like Brimmer’s guilt bleeds into his performance at times. He is ashamed of what he’s done, and doesn’t like pulling wool over Kennicutt’s eyes, but he does what he has to because it’s the only way he avoids jail time. His interactions with Columbo are also much more toned-down. He doesn’t seem to tire of Columbo the way, especially Hanlon, does. In fact, there’s defeat in his voice when Columbo tells him he’s not accepting Brimmer’s job offer. He knows he’s running out of options to keep his involvement in Lenore’s death at bay.
I also feel like his final actions, when he’s caught out, are completely unlike the other two characters. He’s upset he’s been caught, sure, but he’s ashamed with himself. His apology seems genuine and he can barely raise his eyes to meet Kennicut’s at the end. It’s vastly different than the caught-out reactions of Hanlon and Keppel. I’d put Brimmer on the list of most sympathetic killers, as he’s the only one that truly committed a murder by accident, and then didn’t follow that incident up with a lot more nastiness to keep himself in the clear. I don’t excuse him for hitting Lenore, no man should ever raise his hand to a woman. But her death from that blow was completely unintentional, and you can see the horror of the realization on his freeze-framed face.
The polar opposite of his next appearance as Hanlon. Here he’s a bully, seething all the time. Even when he’s speaking quietly you can see he’s an inch away from blowing his top regularly. Indeed, Hanlon seems to think he can bully/bluster his way past Columbo. He stays in that mode until almost the very end.
Whereas Keppel is vastly different from the other two. This is a man completely in control of his emotions. He knows Columbo is onto him practically from the supermarket scene, and the more they talk, the more he lets the mask slip. Yes, he seems to freely admit. I did it. Good luck proving it.
Unlike both Hanlon and Brimmer, Culp as Keppel is practically relishing this cat-and-mouse game he’s playing with Columbo. And every time Columbo gets something on him, Keppel is ready with an answer to explain it away, or it involves evidence that no longer exists. That scene in the office, then in the screening room, then in the car, is fantastic viewing, and I agree with CP. It’s the best “hypothetical murderer” interplay since prescription murder.
Unlike Hanlon, Keppel is really a cerebral killer, and Culp nails it. His personality and actions are the complete antithesis of Hanlon, and Brimmer. He only loses his cool badly on the golf course, and even then, it’s a brief outburst that he quickly squashes and almost immediately, his composure is regained and the upper hand is once again Keppel’s.
And the final reveal. Hanlon seems nervous that he’s implicated. Keppel is positively gleeful that to catch him, Columbo had to use his own technique against him. Even though he’s lost, it still almost feels like Keppel has won in a way.
Hi Nick. Thanks for your detailed and well-argued reply. (Although this is probably the wrong thread to discuss it on! SPOILER ALERT!)
I take your valid points about the 3 killers that Robert Culp played on Columbo, but I still feel that he is essentially playing the same character in different situations, albeit giving a top notch performance each time.
You are quite correct that Brimmer kills his victim by accident, tries to blame it on an anonymous mugger rather than a specific person, and tries to buy Columbo off rather than kill a blackmailer. But even despite his remorse, Brimmer is not a sympathetic killer.
He is already running a huge blackmail operation, and strikes his victim in a fit of anger to stop her leaving and exposing his racket. True, he did not intend to kill her, but he cant even risk a light sentence on a manslaughter charge without revealing why she was at his beach house in the first place. If he did, his blackmail racket and legit business would both go up in smoke. With so much at stake, I think he would have killed Lenore deliberately anyway.
Hanlon is Brimmer as if he had gotten away with it. He’s grown more ruthless and is now willing to commit the premeditated murder of an innocent person, but makes it look like an accident, so that nobody else takes the rap.
Keppel is another stage along, back to his old tricks with the blackmail racket, but now not only willing to kill to keep it from being exposed, but also to frame the victim’s wife, and to kill a blackmailer.
Of course, it helps my somewhat tenuous argument that Culp’s 3 Columbo episodes as a killer take place in this order! When Columbo meets Jordan Rowe in “Columbo Goes To College” I expect him to say “When did you get out?”.
Robert Culp was a very fine actor. I enjoyed his recurring role on “Everybody Loves Raymond”, where he played another affluent, educated man, but with a totally different “nice guy” personality. I especially liked his good natured grin when he’s told “You’ve still got all your teeth, and then some!”.
Oh I am not saying Brimmer was entirely faultless, but compared to others, even those on the actual CP list, he’s sympathetic. Everyone on the top 10 is guilty of a premeditated murder. The fact Brimmer’s wasn’t instantly puts him on a different plane than the others, no matter their motivation.
Brimmer is definitely running a blackmail scheme, and definitely needs to keep it quiet, but that is not worse than say, Adrian Carsini’s motive for killing Ric.
I love Carsini, and he’s probably tied with Cassidy as my second favorite overall killer. I do sympathize with him somewhat, as finding out the winery, and his job, was going to be sold out to someone he hated would have been psychologically ghastly.
But…Carsini isn’t blameless. He’s been blowing money that in some ways, rightfully belongs to Ric, and according to their conversation, he’s essentially run the winery into the ground.
Also, the method used to kill Ric is probably the most ghastly ever created for the series. Tied up and left in the heat to slowly suffocate over the course of two days. While the episode cuts a lot of corners, at the end of the day, Ric is tied up in a locked room and lives for two days without food, water, or a bathroom. Realistically, he’d have died hungry, thirsty, and in his own filth. That’s truly horrible when you think about it.
Lenore’s killing pales in comparison, a punch, head trauma, and gone.
OK, so we’re agreed that Brimmer was bad, but not as bad as some of the other killers, for the reasons you describe.
I liked your analysis of Adrian Carsini, but I suggest that we all employ SPOILER ALERT! when discussing major plot points of other episodes.
As for Mr Ric, well he always looked immaculate during the two years he spent in the Land of the Giants, so two days in a wine cellar . . .
Looks like we reached the end of that particular thread. And yes, I give Brimmer a pass not only because of the murder being accidental, but because he’s Bobby Culp. I wouldn’t be upset if Hanlon walked either. He devises a pretty good murder method.
Also, I understand it’s 70’s T.V. and they were restricted, but yes, as others have pointed out, the honest state of Ric’s body when Carsini returned would have made fitting him in the wet suit dubious as best.
I also, upon a recent rewatch, took great issue with Carsini covering Ric’s corpse with a blanket and then LEAVING THE TOP DOWN to drive him to the disposal site. No one would do that. What if the blanket blows off before you stop at a stoplight? You’d have some serious splanin’ to do.
I’ve definitely started viewing episode’s with CP’s eye. A handful of the great clues in this I’ve discovered, upon reviewings, are purely scripted that way to give Columbo a thread to go on. As in Carsini’s case, he doesn’t pull the top up like anyone rational would do so they could have that be a clue for Columbo to hone in on.
Still, I pretty much love them all.
Hi Nick. Sorry, I have only just found your last comment in the SPAM filter, where it should definitely not have been.
But SPOILER ALERT! Is it actually Ric’s corpse in the car under the blanket? I think that he is still alive, albeit unconscious, and actually dies by drowning?
Of course, if Ric had come round en route and said “Me heap dizzy” they’d have had the basis for a Monty Python sketch instead of a Columbo episode.
In publish or perish I don’t really get how Greenleaf’s lawyer didn’t already know he was involved in a car “accident” since he was the one who bailed Greenleaf out of the drunk tank? Surely the police would have told him that, or didn’t they know? Instead Greenleaf’s lawyer only finds out about the accident from a phone call from his car insurance company. Also I agree that the key should have been the evidence that caught Greenleaf, not knowing the plot of an unpublished book.
The police didn’t know about the car prang in the car park. They only knew that Riley was drunk at the wheel after illegally parking.
…and the key alone would not stand up in court, because Columbo cannot prove that it was really only Greenleaf whom he told about his urge to find the person who has a key to the new lock. Greenleaf could easily claim that Columbo had told other suspects about the key’s significance.
Right. Cassidy treats the key evidence exactly as it deserves to be treated — “interesting but not my problem.” The manuscript evidence is not only damning, it shows clearly what his motive is. With the writer out of the way, Cassidy can publish the novel and claim it was under contract to him all along.
I don’t have the patience to scroll through every comment, so I apologise in advance if this is a duplication: Eddie Kane’s book is called ‘How to blow up anything in ten easy LESSONS’, not ‘steps’. I’ll just get my anorak…
Perhaps Miss McRae suggested a last minute change to the title?
Nobody else mentioned it, and this is funny.