Executive James Barrett barks at his secretary to book him a flight to Toronto.  He is leaving the Muldoon merger in the hands of young Philip Weaver.  After handing off the file, Barrett calls his dimwit, baby-talking, still-in-bed trophy wife who thinks Canada is overseas.  What could such a mature, educated titan of industry see in this numbskull?  Oh, she’s 29 years younger than him.  Not quite the 37 year difference we saw in yesterday’s OSB, but he’s got time to put another trophy on his shelf.  It just might not be a participation trophy by that time.

Mrs. Barrett meets Phillip for lunch.  This being AHP, they discuss their plan to kill off Mr. Barrett during his Toronto trip.  Phillip says he will mail her the details of their murder plan.  Wait, what?  He’s putting it in writing and mailing it to the victim’s home?  God help Mr. Muldoon if Phillip is really this dense.

The next morning, the doorman comes up to their apartment to drop off the mail and pick up Mr. Barrett’s luggage.  After her husband leaves for the airport, Mrs. Barrett rifles through the mail until she finds Phillip’s letter.  She reads, “By this time, my sweet, your adoring husband is on his way to the airport.”  Phillip is pretty trusting that the USPS would get that letter there on the right day.  Even more-so that it would be only be delivered after Barrett left, although he did improve his odds by mailing it the same day as the Monkey Ward catalog.

The letter continues on, instructing her to “write James a good, smarmy letter, leaving nothing to the imagination.”  She is to mail it to Toronto so the police find it in his room.  “That’s all you have to do,” he assures her.  Then he suggests that she throw a cocktail party that very afternoon as an alibi, which seems more complicated than writing a dirty letter.  Finally, he does show a slight bit of brains as he reminds her to destroy the incriminating letter.  Although, inexplicably, he does add a PS that he just recruited a sap named Oswald to be a patsy in assassinating the president in 3 years, includes a sketch of the grassy knoll, a copy of a $10,000 check signed by LBJ, and a clean set of fingerprints.

Mrs. Barrett . . . she doesn’t seem to have a first name.  Let’s just call this treacherous, cheating ninny Helen.  No reason at all.  Just seems like a Helen.^[1]  So Helen immediately addresses an envelope to her husband’s hotel in Canada.  After getting stuck because she doesn’t know what “smarmy” means — no, seriously — she pulls a picture of Phillip out of the desk drawer for inspiration.  Wait a minute — she keeps a photo of the guy she is cheating with in her desk at home?  And this is not a wallet size photo, this is an 8 x 10 glamour shot.  It is even framed!  These are the dumbest criminals ever.

Helen begins the letter, “Dearest James, you might think I am a feather-brain for writing to you so quickly”  Yada yada.  “Your adoring wife, Poopsie.”  She stuffs the letter into the envelope and goes downstairs to mail it.  

Back in their apartment, Helen begins calling people to attend her cocktail party.  I have to give her credit, though, she remembers more phone numbers than I can.  Suddenly this brainiac remembers that she left Phillip’s framed picture on her desk where Gladys might find it.  She puts it back in the drawer.  Then she remembers she also left his murder-instruction letter on the desk.  Uh oh, she realizes she accidentally mailed the murder instructions to her husband.  She runs back to the mailbox hoping to catch the mail man picking up, but just misses him.  

Back in her apartment, she is mortified.  I really felt for her, sitting on the sofa, almost catatonic with anxiety. Although in my case, it would have been because I had to attend a cocktail party.  On the other hand, she does look pretty snappy in her little black cocktail dress.  Gladys suggests that she go to the Post Office and see if she can retrieve the letter.  She does, but again just misses the letter as it is sent out.

As the guests begin to arrive, she calls her husband.  His office says he never checked into his hotel, so Phillip must have already whacked him.  She is distraught that her husband is dead and their plan will be discovered.  Just then, the doorman arrives with a delivery from the liquor store and good news, but I repeat myself.  He tells her the postman returned her letter because she had forgotten to put a stamp on it.  The doorman then proudly tells her that he added the postage and sent the letter back out.

Of course, AHP’s sheer professionalism makes this better than most of the crap that airs then or now.  However, it did not completely seem to gel.  I felt like Helen’s pursuit of the letter at the mailbox and post office should have had a more farcical tone.  Maybe an hour episode could have pulled that off.  Also, while I did appreciate her stoic reaction to the pressure she was under, it should have been better used at the end to emphasize the twist.  If she had finally come alive with excitement upon hearing the the letter was returned, she would have lit up the screen.  Then the zinger that the doorman re-mailed it would have been devastating in contrast.  As played, it was just too flat to evoke any reaction in the viewer.

Other Stuff:

• [1] I only realized later that the housekeeper in this episode is coincidentally also named Helen.  Just doesn’t seem like a name of someone who keeps things tidy.  Let’s call her Gladys and keep Helen for the evil pea-brain slob.
• Sarah Marshall (Helen) was the mother in Twilight Zone’s classic Little Girl Lost.