Lt. Columbo: Oh, sorry to disturb you, sir. I realize this is a bad time.
Findlay Crawford: Have a drink. It's a good time to be drinking.
Lt. Columbo: Uh, not right now, thank you, sir. Still on duty. Would it be all right, sir, if I, uh, smoked a small cigar?
Findlay Crawford: Of course. I love a good cigar myself. There's a humidor over there. Help yourself.
Lt. Columbo: Oh, I'm kind of used to these here, thank you.
Findlay Crawford: Please yourself. Light up, sit down, and make yourself at home. No more home for poor Gabriel, I'm afraid.
Lt. Columbo: Oh, that was unfortunate, sir.
Findlay Crawford: It was a tragedy, Mr. Columbo, a tragedy. A wonderful young man with a great future.
Lt. Columbo: So I heard, sir.
Findlay Crawford: He was like a son to me. Let's have some music.
[classical instrumental music starts playing loudly. Crawford starts acting as a composer and then turns the music off]
Findlay Crawford: Tchaikovsky.
Lt. Columbo: Well, uh, sir, I...
Findlay Crawford: Perhaps you'd rather hear some rock and roll?
Lt. Columbo: I wouldn't say that, sir.
Findlay Crawford: [singing] In a cabin, in a canyon, excavating for a mine, lived a miner
Lt. Columbo: A forty-niner.
Lt. Columbo, Findlay Crawford: And his daughter, Clementine. Oh, my darlin', oh, my darlin', oh my darlin' Clementine, you are lost and gone forever...
Lt. Columbo: Dreadful sorry...
Lt. Columbo, Findlay Crawford: Clementine.
Findlay Crawford: At least we established part of your taste. But I think it's time for some sad music. More befitting the mood of the evening. A little cello, perhaps. Nothing weeps like a cello.
[instrumental cello music starts playing]
Lt. Columbo: Uh, Mr. Crawford... Mr. Crawford, I'm sure you could play wonderful music all night long, but there are a few questions. I realize that this has been a shock to you, but it has to be done.
Findlay Crawford: What did you have in mind, Mr. Columbo?
Lt. Columbo: Where were you, sir, when the deceased fell off the roof?
Findlay Crawford: I was on stage, conducting a concert.
Lt. Columbo: And when was the last time that you saw Mr. McEnry alive, sir?
Findlay Crawford: That would be last evening. In here, in the bungalow.
Lt. Columbo: And sort of mood was he in?
Findlay Crawford: Since I had just informed him he would be conducting the theme from The Killer in tonight's program, ecstatic.
Lt. Columbo: Ecstatic day before... Day before. So, uh... Oh, so he wasn't here when you arrived today?
Findlay Crawford: I arrived at the studio a few minutes before the performance. I didn't see Gabriel. I just assumed, as was his normal practice, he'd be on the roof, conducting along with me, and would appear when he was due on stage.
Lt. Columbo: So the first time that you saw him today he was on the ground. I can imagine how you felt, sir.
Findlay Crawford: I was devastated.
Lt. Columbo: And what did you do right after that?
Findlay Crawford: Some members of the audience had come outside to gawk. I told them to go back indoors. I announced that the performance for this evening was cancelled, and assured those present that the tickets would be good for next Saturday, when an additional piece would be added to the program. A piece that I would compose myself as a trib...
[sniffs]
Findlay Crawford: ... as a tribute to Gabriel.
Lt. Columbo: Oh, very nice gesture, sir. Uh, tell me, did Mr. Gabriel, when he was conducting, did he always use a baton?
Findlay Crawford: Of course. We all use batons. Why do you ask?
Lt. Columbo: Well... Well, you never know, sir. Somebody said he was a bit eccentric.
Findlay Crawford: [scoffs] Not that eccentric.
