Original subtitles

I got a proposition for you.

It's kind of a challenge between you, Marty and my bull.

[Jessica] Tonight, on Murder She Wrote.

[bull snorts]

A man's dead.

It's my job to ask questions.

I have been looking all over for you.

I'm sorry. This one's taken.

Why don't you leave him be, Jill?

The man's got work today.

It's good to see you too, Luke.

Wally didn't like the looks of that bull,

and Luke made him ride it.

What are you suggesting, Carla?

That they both could have been killed?

[cheerful orchestral music]

[fiddle music, horse neighing]

Oo-wee, we made it!

You sign us in, hon.

I got to go help Luke with the horses,

and soon as we get settled,

we'll go chow down at the Spur with some of the guys, huh?

Oh, well, I thought maybe we could bring something in,

just the two of us.

Do we always have to eat with a crowd?

Well, Jill, babe, we just spent 37 hours in this thing

without a crowd around.

I know, but that's driving. That doesn't count.

Tonight, you and me will make up for lost time.

Now, you go get us

a nice little spot off towards the back, huh?

Maybe with a little privacy?

Jill!

Hi, Carla.

Well, how'd you like that traffic jam-up outside Regina?

Do you know, Boone and I just got here about an hour ago.

Yeah, Marty and I came a different way too.

Um, I got to go.

Oh, wait, listen. Just a second, honey.

Listen, I don't want to butt in, honest.

And I guess it's none of my business.

No, it isn't.

But honey, look, you've got me between a rock and a hard place.

I mean, it was me that invited you

to spend the summer with me and Boone on the circuit.

And your mama, well, she--

She called you again, right?

She's worried about you.

Well, maybe you shouldn't have told her about me and Marty.

Look, Carla, it's my life.

Okay?

[phone ringing]

Hello?

Louise?

Oh, my goodness, I haven't heard your voice in ages.

Well, I'm fine. I'm busy, as usual.

Well, right now, I'm engaged

in a battle of the wills with my oven.

Louise, what's wrong?

What's the matter?

Jill?

Has something happened to Jill?

Louise, honey, just calm down.

Now, very slowly, tell me what's wrong.

Hi, Boone.

Carla wanted to see me.

Carla?

-Jill? -[laughing]

Aunt Jess?

I don't believe it!

What are you doing here?

Well, I came here to see you, of course.

Mom sent you, didn't she?

No, she didn't send me. I volunteered.

You came to spy on me.

Yes, I came to spy on you.

Now, come on, let's have a walk.

You don't understand. Marty's a terrific guy.

Don't be silly.

Of course I understand.

You're in love, and the last time I looked

that was no crime for someone of your age.

Jill, I daren't tell you how old

I was when I met your uncle Frank.

You know, you never knew my father,

but I can tell you that he was a very warm

and compassionate man.

Nonetheless, when I told him about Frank

well, my dear, you could hear his reaction

all the way to the next county.

I knew you'd be on my side.

And you're gonna love Marty.

Well, maybe so,

but that is not really the issue here.

Jill, your mother is terribly worried

because she cares a great deal about you.

Now, hear me out.

For whatever reason,

you two have never been able to communicate very well,

and that's why I'm here to meet your young man,

evaluate the situation,

to be able to tell her exactly what's going on.

I think she has that right.

I guess.

But I'm not here to tell you how to run your life, I promise.

Because in the final analysis, whatever you decide,

well, you've got my blessing.

Thanks.

Well, what do you say we meet this young man of yours?

You know, I've never been to a rodeo.

You've never been to a rod--

Oh, it's so exciting, and Marty is the best.

Well, ma'am, this surely is a pleasure.

It surely is.

Well, I'm certainly delighted to meet you, Marty.

Uh, you be bunking with us?

Oh, no, no, no.

I checked into that little motel right across the highway.

Well, it'd be no problem.

Well, thanks, anyway.

Aunt Jess is gonna stay till Sunday.

Well, that's terrific.

Maybe you'll bring me luck. I could sure use some.

Me and Boone Talbott are this close

for top cowboy this season.

Hey, Marty, come here a sec. Take a look at this shoe.

Uh, you'll excuse me, ma'am.

Well, say, maybe you and Jill would like to join us.

We'll be tossing back a few brews at the Spur,

and, well, you could meet some of the folks.

Well, thanks. I'd love to.

Well?

Well, if he's as good with horses

as he is with visiting aunts from Maine,

I'd say that Mr. Talbott was in for a lot of trouble.

[laughs]

[fiddle music]

Say, Jessica, where'd you learn to dance like that?

Well, just now, out of self-defense.

How about one more?

No, no, no. Three is my limit.

Okay, let me get your chair.

Thank you.

Ah, come on, sweetheart, we're just getting going.

Looks like you could use this.

Oh, thanks. I sure can.

Time was, I'd go all day, all night,

just dancing, rodeoing.

Before I got my leg all busted up, that is.

That's the truth.

Ol' Wally here used to be a good one

before that big ol' brahma got him.

And now you're a rodeo clown, Mr. Bryce?

Got to do something with us rejects, ma'am.

[laughing]

Could have been at it today, still competing,

if it wasn't for some stone-fingered rummy of a doctor

who ain't fit to cut up dog meat,

let alone work on people.

That's Doc Schaefer,

the association's official sawbones.

He travels the circuit,

mostly fixing up busted ribs and broken bones.

Sometimes he even does it right.

Excuse me.

Hey, Boone, how you doing there, fella?

You getting ready to show these young fellas a few things, huh?

[coughing]

Still smoking those old stogies, huh?

Hell, no. Consuela'd skin me alive.

Well, lookee here.

Here's that pretty little wife of yours.

Hey, darling, how about you and me getting out there

and spinning on the dance floor?

-Later, Doc. -[laughs]

Well, come on, now.

Later, I won't even be standing up.

Turn your burners down, Doc.

-Let go of me! -Doc, Doc, let her go.

Now, get your damn hands off me, Boone.

I'm just being neighborly.

She said no more, okay? Now, don't start something.

By God, if I start something, I'll finish it, guaranteed.

As old as I am, I can still take you.

Come on, Doc, let's get back to the trailer.

Get them hands off me, woman!

-I'm sorry, Mr. Talbott. -It's not your fault.

Doc gets drunk, he... That's all she wrote.

My goodness, things certainly get lively

around here, don't they?

Opening jitters. Everybody's keyed up.

Ol' Doc don't help matters none.

He gets mean when he's got a snootful.

Listen here now, Boone. I got a proposition for you.

It's kind of a challenge between you, Marty, and my bull.

Whichever stays on the longest gets $500.

Course, if you don't want anything to do with it,

I can understand. [laughs]

I guess we all understand, huh, boys?

[laughing]

Y'all better watch that bull. He's a mean one in there.

There he is, boys.

There's the gate.

Yah!

[bull snorts, bellows]

-Yah! -Hah, hah!

Hah, hah!

-Oh, jeez! -Whoa, move!

Look out!

Get him out of there. Quick!

-Is he hurt? -Get somebody in here now.

Hey, go! In there, in there!

Are you okay?

Hey, Doc, he's hurt pretty bad.

Well, if you'll get out of the way, I'll fix him up.

You got a hairline fracture of the right femur, Luke.

I'm gonna put you in a walking cast

but I'm gonna keep you in here tonight.

Oh, come on now, Doc.

No, I'm going to sedate you, just in case.

It's not gonna be a fun night, that's for sure.

I got to be up and around tomorrow, helping him.

Yeah?

Well, Marty's not gonna be doing

much of anything tomorrow, either.

What are you talking about?

You got a concussion.

I'm setting you down, at least for tomorrow.

You're crazy!

Don't argue with me, son.

You ain't setting me down, old timer!

Son, now, look, if you like,

I can have you disqualified for the whole showdown.

Now get out of here and let me work on Luke.

If that old man thinks I ain't competing tomorrow,

he's got another thing coming.

-Let's go back to the trailer. -Says I got a concussion.

-Well, maybe he's right. -Will you leave go of me!

He ain't no kind of Doc. Hell, ask Wally.

I ain't taking his word about nothing!

Hey, come on, there's a fire!

There's a fire up here in Doc's trailer!

[all shouting]

Doc, open up!

Doc, open up!

[wheezing, coughing]

Doc?

Look out. Look out, here.

Doc and Consuela are still in there, I think.

Get an ambulance.

Doc! Doc!

Doc!

Doc! [sobbing]

Let's hear it for the Maple Leaf drill team.

-Hate to interrupt you, Wally -Hi, miss Fletcher.

I'm looking for Jill. Have you seen her around?

Well, I guess she'd be with Marty somewheres.

Oh, uh, miss Fletcher,

I suspect you heard about what happened last night.

Uh, Doc, I mean.

Oh, yes. It was dreadful.

I feel so sorry for his wife.

Well, she'll get over it, huh?

Boy, oh, boy.

[spurs jingling]

Guess we all knew that

smokin' would get Doc someday, huh?

Uh, never figured it like that.

How's Luke?

They said they took him to the hospital.

Luke?

Oh, he's gonna be fine, last I heard.

Yeah, just fine. Fine.

Well, if you see Jill,

tell her I'm looking for her, will you?

-Sure will. -Thanks.

Excuse me, Mr. Talbott?

Yeah, Boone Talbott.

I'm inspector McCabe.

I understand you're the one that discovered the fire last night

and rescued Mr. Perdue.

Yes, sir, that's true.

Sorry we didn't save Doc.

Well, it's fortunate you were

wandering around the hospital trailer last night.

Heck, I wasn't wandering around.

I was taking a walk.

Sometimes I can't sleep before a rodeo.

You didn't happen to see anybody else

hanging around, did you?

No, sir.

Why all the questions?

A man's dead.

It's my job to ask questions.

Fire was an accident.

Possibly so.

Mrs. Talbott?

That's right.

I understand you and your husband

had a little run-in with the victim yesterday.

Hey, now, wait a minute. It wasn't a run-in.

Doc was drunk. That's the way he always is.

If you got something to ask me, just spit it out, inspector.

The fire marshal's preliminary report

indicates the fire may not have been an accident.

If it wasn't,

I may have a lot more questions for you.

Keep yourself available.

Don't let it bother you.

He don't know what he's talking about.

Said Doc was killed.

He looked straight at me when he said it.

That's all I need.

Aunt Jess!

Oh, there you are.

I called you first thing at the motel.

-What time was that? -8:30.

"First thing" is around 7:00 for me.

But what is it? What's the matter?

-Doc Schaefer's dead. -Yes, I heard.

And there's a mountie running around

asking a lot of questions,

making it sound like it wasn't an accident.

What?

Marty wouldn't hurt anybody. I know he wouldn't.

Jill, slow down. Now, what are you talking about?

He's asking a lot about Marty and Boone,

like he thinks maybe one of them set the fire deliberately.

-But why? -I don't know.

Maybe it has something to do with that stupid bull.

But if Marty was with you last night--

That's just it. He wasn't with me.

I haven't seen him since yesterday,

since we had that fight.

But that's still no reason.

Aunt Jess, could you find out what's going on for me?

I mean, I know Marty's kind of hot-headed,

but he wouldn't hurt anybody.

All right. I'll see what I can learn.

Meanwhile, I suggest that

you find this young man of yours.

-Okay. -All right, good.

Hello?

You may have failed to noticed, madam,

but this is an official police investigation site.

Oh, yes, I'm very sorry.

Uh, is lieutenant--

Inspector Roger McCabe, Queensbridge Barracks.

And you are?

Well, my name is Jessica Fletcher.

-I am very anxious-- -Jessica Fletcher?

The author Jessica Fletcher?

Well, yes.

Mrs. Fletcher, this is a delightful

and unexpected pleasure.

I've read most all your books.

Well, thank you.

But what in the world are you doing here

in Queensbridge?

Researching the showdown, perhaps,

as background for your next thriller?

Actually, no.

I'm here to visit my niece,

who, I'm sorry to say,

seems to be involved in your investigation.

-Oh? -Her name is Jill Morton.

And she's living-- Well, she's involved with--

Well, she's a very good friend of Marty Reed's.

Ah, yes, young Mr. Reed.

I've been trying to locate him all morning.

Well, let me see, now.

The young lady is apprehensive, as well she might be,

and she's asked you to intercede?

-Something like that. -Only natural.

You've heard that the circumstances

surrounding last night's fire are somewhat suspect?

Well, yes, there are rumors.

Well, come in, then.

I'll fill you in on the specifics

as far as we know them now.

Thank you.

The fire marshal's preliminary report

indicates the fire was confined to this couch,

and it was incendiary.

He's sure about that?

He found traces of a flammable liquid sloshed on the couch.

And this, you might say, is the clincher.

This was a lighted cigarette

tucked inside a matchbook folder.

The cigarette burns down to the matches, ignites them,

they touch off the flammable liquid.

A crude, but effective, time fuse.

Fortunately, the fire failed to generate enough heat

to completely consume the evidence.

Uh-huh. This looks like melted film.

Fire marshal says it's an X-ray.

Possibly to be used to fuel the fire,

though our perpetrator seemed unaware

of the non-flammable properties of X-ray film.

Here, let me show you something else.

Notice the window above the couch.

It was found shut, but not locked.

I see.

You're saying that the flammable liquid and the time fuse device

could have been tossed through the window.

And that the arsonist needn't have entered the trailer at all.

Precisely.

He or she anticipates that the doctor and his patient

would both be asleep,

starts a smoky fire

to escape, to establish an alibi,

long before the fire takes hold.

But why?

To kill the doctor, to kill Mr. Perdue,

to-to frighten someone?

I mean, or simply to destroy this trailer?

Frankly, the reason is immaterial.

Doctor Schaefer died of smoke inhalation.

Everyone around here apparently knew he suffered from emphysema.

Any way you look at it, this is murder.

Aren't you afraid of anything?

Well, I must be. I just ain't figured out what.

I'd love to see you in action.

I have been looking all over for you.

I'm sorry. This one's taken.

So that's where you spent the night.

Aw, come on, Jill.

I played cards with some of the guys,

we had a few beers, and I-I slept it off.

Slept it off where? With who?

Now, slow down. You don't own me.

I told you where I was.

You saying I'm a liar?

No, Marty, I was worried about you.

And then all this business with Doc.

I got scared, that's all.

Oh, now, ain't nothing for you to be scared about.

Honest, I was with the guys, and,

well, as for Doc, I don't know nothing about that.

Now, come on. Give me a little smile.

A little one?

Yeah, that's good.

Now, honey, don't you let that man bother you.

-I'm all right. -How's your knee?

I'm okay, all right? Would you lay off?

I'm fine, all right?

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

hang onto your hats

for the saddle bronc competition.

[cheers and applause]

And now, folks, we got a real treat for you.

This will be Boone Talbott's

first appearance in two years here at the showdown.

The former top cowboy was sidelined all last year

because of injuries.

And standing square in the middle

of Boone's comeback trail

is Marty Reed, the popular young rider

who came out of nowhere last year

to win the top cowboy honors.

Boone wants his title back.

Marty wants to keep it.

We're talking showdown, folks.

I see Boone's about ready now.

He'll be coming out of chute number two there.

Be riding a rangy outlaw they call Spinner.

Anytime you're ready, Boone.

[indistinct chatter]

Boone's not too happy with that ride, folks.

Not up to his usual championship form.

Too bad, Boone. Next time, maybe.

Oh, it's Mrs. Schaefer, isn't it?

Yes.

I'm Jessica Fletcher, Jill Morton's aunt.

I would like to express my condolences

on the death of your husband.

Oh, yes, thank you.

It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Jill's told me a lot about you.

I was on my way to see Mr. Perdue.

It's the last door on the left.

I was just there.

He's doing fine.

How lucky that you weren't in that trailer last night.

We'd all have been lucky.

I would never let Doc smoke his cigars

when he was around me, so if I had been there,

this whole thing wouldn't have happened.

Was there any particular reason

why you weren't there last night?

I wanted no part of Doc when he drank.

After I finished helping him with Luke,

I spent the night with a friend.

Is there something you're trying to tell me, Mrs. Fletcher?

Mrs. Schaefer...

there's a very strong likelihood

that your husband's death was not an accident.

I'm very sorry.

Doc had a way of making enemies.

That bull of his maimed more than one cowboy.

Then you're not surprised?

After seven years of marriage to Doc, nothing surprises me.

He was a mean man.

Before I met him, he spent ten years in prison.

I often wondered

if he hadn't been on the wrong side of the bars.

[sighs] I guess I loved him once.

I'll tell you the truth.

I feel nothing but relief now.

Excuse me.

All right. Easy, now.

Yeah. I got it, I got it.

Thanks. Hi, Jessica.

My goodness, you're looking very chipper.

Yeah, I'm fine, except for this here leg.

Now, Mr. Perdue,

if it's bothering you, I could arrange for an X-ray.

Uh-uh, forget it.

It would give us a very clear picture--

Look, I don't want to hear no more about no X-ray.

I'm checked out, so just go bug somebody else, all right?

[chuckles]

Ah, those guys aren't happy

unless they're poking and prodding at somebody.

I heard about the Doc.

That's a real shame.

How's a thing like that happen?

Not by accident, I'm afraid.

Inspector McCabe, RCMP, Mr. Perdue.

If you don't mind, I have some questions for you.

Well, the fact is, I do mind.

I got to get back to the showdown.

Marty'll be looking for me.

He needs my help to win that thing.

Well, why don't we just talk in my car

on the way over, then?

You're saying somebody tried to kill me?

[laughs] That's crazy.

A man without enemies?

You're a rare species, Mr. Purdue.

Oh, well, I've got my share,

but they're the kind that'd face you down

with a knife in their hand.

Settin' fires that ain't their style.

Luke, is there anything that you can remember?

I mean, something that might have happened

before the fire broke out?

I was asleep.

Doc gave me enough painkiller to drop that bull of his.

Oh, wait a minute.

I-I do kind of recall waking up.

I thought I heard the sound of footsteps outside.

A sort of a jangling sound.

Like fancy spurs, maybe.

Spurs?

Are you sure?

[chuckles] I'm not sure of anything.

Like I said, I was in no pain.

Oh, yeah, right there.

That's where it hurts.

You know, Marty, I was thinking,

when we're done with the rodeo circuit,

that you could take me home with you.

Oh, now, honey.

We talked about that.

You're going back to school, remember?

I want to be with you.

I know you do.

And I do too, but we made a deal.

One season on the circuit

and then you'd head back to hitting the books.

I know, but wouldn't it be nice--

Well, let's just enjoy the time we got together.

I mean, here we are, the first day of the rodeo.

I got me a big old lead, and Boone's in trouble.

That kid from Cheyenne-- he don't show me much.

What is he, 19 or something?

That's what they were saying about you.

Yeah.

But now I'm an all-around champion.

Take me home with you.

I can only think about one day at a time.

This is my day.

Let's go inside.

Well, hey, look who's back.

How you doing, good buddy?

Looks like you're doing okay.

Why don't you leave him be, Jill?

The man's got work today.

It's good to see you too, Luke.

Get back on that table, buddy. I'll give you a real rubdown.

Yeah, okay.

Why don't you fix me a cup of coffee, honey?

Fix your own damn coffee.

[laughing]

Oh.

Yeah.

Here we go. All right.

He'll go on like that for hours,

practicing until his hands bleed.

Well, you know, tenacity is an admirable virtue.

Until it turns into thick-headed stubbornness.

It's over for Boone.

He knows it, but he just won't admit it.

But he's-- he's a young man.

He's old in this business.

Oh, he'll go along for a while taking down fifth place money,

then eighth place, then fifteenth.

And one day it will happen.

A bronc he can't ride, a bull he can't handle.

He is scared to death he's gonna end up like Wally Bryce.

Wally? Oh, yes, the clown.

Yes, I understand that he broke his leg

being thrown from a bull.

He told me that Doc was drunk when he set his leg.

Luke was his manager.

Wally didn't like the looks of that bull,

and Luke made him ride it.

What are you suggesting, Carla?

That they were both in Doc's trailer?

That they both could have been killed?

-That maybe Wally-- -Oh, no, no, no.

He may have hated him, but Wally kill a man?

No, I'd sooner believe Boone done it.

Mrs. Schaefer, I am sorry, but at the moment,

I can't allow you to remove

any personal belongings from this trailer.

Well, what about my clothes? What am I supposed to wear?

Madam, I'm trying to find out

what happened the night your husband died.

If we could confine ourselves to that subject, then--

I told you.

Doc was giving everybody a bad time.

He told Marty Reed he had a concussion

and wouldn't let him ride the next day.

He was even giving Luke a hard time.

Doc knew how to spread it around.

-Excuse me. -Oh, Jessica.

Sorry to interrupt.

But wasn't it generally known

that Luke was fairly heavily sedated?

Oh, sure.

But Doc kept asking him a bunch of questions,

like where he worked before he joined the rodeo,

where he lived.

Like the dentist who fills your mouth with instruments

and then asks you all sorts of questions

you care nothing about.

And you're sure there was no one around wearing spurs?

I told you, no.

Inspector, when I can get back in here and get my clothes,

would you let me know?

I'll be staying with my friend Doris.

The last trailer on the left.

The blue one.

I keep hitting dead ends.

I may have had better luck.

That's-- that's why I came to find you.

You might want to question a rodeo clown named Wally Bryce.

Aunt Jess?

-Jill. -Miss Morton.

Hi. Um, can we talk for a minute?

Yes, of course.

Will you excuse me, Inspector?

Wally Bryce.

You know, I really love him.

I know.

He's charming and funny.

And I know he loves me too.

Oh, yes.

But there's times when I feel

that he's not really ready for a serious relationship.

Well, a young man that age. I mean, it is possible.

I mean, I don't mind, if that's what he really wants.

People develop and grow.

Jill, are you asking me for advice?

No.

It's just that you've always been able

to see things the right way.

All right. Listen to me.

I am gonna give you some advice.

Now, if you have any doubts

about your future with Marty Reed,

I suggest that you talk to him about it.

Don't be afraid to ask him the hard question.

If he doesn't give you the good answer,

well, that's your answer.

Remember one thing.

You're the one who's gonna make up your mind about all this.

Not me, not your mother, but you.

Now, go ahead.

There's no time like the present.

Daddy, daddy!

Buster. What are you doing here?

-Hi, honey. -Hiya, hon.

...and the radio station up there in Mile City

had this announcement about Marty.

He's kind of the local hero around our corner of Montana.

They said he'd been hurt

and might not be able to compete in the showdown.

Well, I just about fell over when I heard that.

So I threw some extra clothes in the pickup, grabbed Buster,

and here we are.

Sure is a relief to find out he's all right.

Yes, it must be hard for you, Marty gone all the time.

I'm surprised that you don't travel with him

on the rodeo circuit.

Oh, you see, we got this little bitty ranch,

and somebody's got to look after it.

And Buster is a little young for all that traveling around.

I do miss Marty when he's gone so much,

but he's really good about sending those money orders

every month, regular, and, of course,

he's home quick as the rodeo season's over.

Anyway, I guess it's hard on him, too,

being away from me and Buster like he is.

Well, I think that Marty is very lucky

to have such a devoted and understanding wife.

Oh, shoot, ma'am.

I'm the lucky one.

Ain't he just wonderful?

Uh, maybe we better head over to the arena.

The bull riding's coming up.

Well, it was nice meeting some of Marty's friends.

Never knew any of 'em before.

Y'all ever come to Mile City, just stop by.

Yeah, we'll be sure to do that.

Bye.

Buster?

Buster?

We are taking a plane out of here tonight.

How 'bout that ride, folks?

Boone Talbott put himself way out in front with that one.

Hell of a ride, Boone. Hell of a ride.

Best ever.

Our next rider up, that'd be Marty Reed.

Marty's got himself a real handful.

He pulled a bull named Strychnine.

This bull's a total outlaw.

He's crippled more than one unlucky cowboy.

If anybody can handle him, Marty can.

Good luck, Marty.

Okay, cowboy, bear down.

[phone ringing]

Hello?

Carla, what is it?

Oh, my Lord.

Oh, no, we'll be right there.

There's been an accident.

Marty?

Boone Talbott.

Hey, Boone?

Hey, what were you trying to do out there,

win hero of the year?

They give prize money for that?

Not so as I noticed.

Hey, you better let Jake put something on that cheek.

It's already got something on it--

horse manure.

Jake.

Better clean this sucker up.

I mean, that's the gutsiest thing I ever saw.

Old Strychnine had Marty down on the ground, you know,

and I was-- well, I was trying to distract him.

I couldn't, and Boone comes running in from the side,

you know, right in front of that critter

so we could drag Marty away.

Then all of a sudden, that--

Well, I mean, that bull went after Boone like--

Well, I mean, I'm telling you, ma'am,

he's lucky to be alive, now.

I mean, he's really lucky.

Boone.

Hey, Jill.

I think I look worse then I feel.

Well, they said I had a few broken ribs,

maybe a separated shoulder.

They haven't got to the good parts yet.

Nothing a little tape can't fix, huh, honey?

How you doing?

Oh, just one little scratch, is all, except for my arm.

That hurts like blue blazes.

Medic says it ain't broke, but what does he know?

Sorry about that, Marty.

Looks like you're gonna be top cowboy of the year.

Hey, Marty!

What do you think you're doing?

I'm just talking to my buddy here.

You know what I'm talking about:

pulling out of the rest of the competition here.

You only needed one more event to beat this guy.

You're handing him one of the biggest

prize purses on this circuit.

Can't help it, Luke. My arm hurts too bad.

There ain't a damn thing wrong with your arm.

I think it was your head got stepped on out there.

Yeah?

Well, it's my arm, and it's my head.

And if you don't like it, Luke, take a walk.

Shoot, Carla.

[phone ringing]

Somebody's calling Doc Schaefer long distance,

and I don't know what to tell 'em.

Doc Schaefer?

Perhaps I'd better take that call.

-Are you all right? -Yeah.

Okay, you wait here for me, will you?

-Thank you. -Sure.

Hello?

My name is Jessica Fletcher.

To whom am I speaking?

Uh, this is Warden Barnes, Oregon State penitentiary.

Been trying to return Doc Schaefer's phone call

from last night, but I can't seem to get ahold of him.

Oh, well, I'm very sorry,

but Doc Schaefer is dead.

Doc?

Well, I'm sure sorry to hear that.

I hadn't heard from him in years.

I'm sorry I missed him.

Warden, you say that he called you last night?

About what time was that?

Log sheet says 9:00 p.m.

That would make it around 11:00 Saskatchewan time.

Did he leave any message-- what it was about?

Nope, just the name and number.

Oh, the night operator wrote down, "important."

Uh-huh.

You know, the Doc's wife told me

that he had practiced in a prison.

Yep, right here.

He up and quit about eight years ago.

He was my prison surgeon.

Old Doc had enough of living behind bars.

Said he was beginning to feel like a prisoner himself.

I guess that's why he hooked up with the rodeo--

wide open spaces kind of thing.

Warden, thank you.

You have been very helpful.

More than I can tell you.

Good-bye.

-[dialing] -[ringing]

McCabe.

Oh, Jessica. What?

Doc Schaefer suffered from emphysema,

so I assume there must have been oxygen in the trailer.

Why, yes, I believe he did.

Just a moment. The file's right here.

Yes, here it is.

According to this,

an oxygen tank was found on the floor inside the doorway.

Inspector, this is very important.

Was it full or empty?

Hmm.

According to this, it was nearly empty.

Strange.

No, not strange at all.

Guess you know you're

missin' all the excitement out at the arena.

Yeah, I guess I am.

-Well, it seems to me that-- -Seems to me you talk too much.

Sure.

Mr. Perdue?

Inspector. What are you doing here?

Looking for you.

I thought you might help with an identification.

[laughing] This is some kind of a joke?

That's Wally, the clown.

Anybody could have told you that,

even Mrs. Fletcher here.

Well, actually, Luke,

Wally isn't the one that the inspector wants to identify.

It's you.

[laughs] Huh?

Your thumbprint on that photo will make it official.

Even more conclusive than those X-rays

you tried to destroy in the fire.

What the hell are you talking about?

The murder of doctor Schaefer, Mr. Perdue.

If that's your real name.

You see, Mrs. Fletcher has this theory,

which I'm inclined to believe: that you're an escaped prisoner

from the Oregon State penitentiary.

Until we get verification,

I'm holding you in protective custody.

Freeze!

Luke Perdue?

Well, his real name is Carl Mattson.

He escaped from prison about 13 years ago,

grew a beard, let his hair grow,

and it completely changed his appearance.

Which is why Doc didn't recognize him.

Well, not his face.

But he must have recognized something in those X-rays

that he took of Mattson's broken leg.

His own handiwork, I'm sure.

Those burned X-rays on the couch.

Well, that always bothered me.

That one set of X-rays burned beyond recognition.

And then, when I remembered how violently

Mattson had objected to having new X-rays

taken at the hospital, well, it just all came together.

You see, Consuela told me

that Doc had started to pump Mattson for information,

and Mattson realized it was only a matter of time

before the doctor put it together.

When Doc called the warden at the prison,

Mattson must have been listening

and knew that was the clincher.

He realized that he had to do something.

Yeah, but start a fire?

I mean, he could have killed himself.

I don't think that he saw it that way.

According to his confession,

he waited until Doc was asleep in the next room.

He took out the X-Ray to make sure

it would burn in the fire

and then unlatched the window before he set the fire,

making it look like the work of an outside arsonist.

He knew he couldn't run for it--

not with a broken leg--

and he knew that Doc kept oxygen on hand

for his emphysema.

He figured the smoke would get Doc

and the oxygen would save him

until somebody came by to rescue him.

The oxygen kept him alive

until you broke down the door, Boone.

I always knew I never liked Luke.

And you had good reason.

And now, young lady, you and I have got a plane to catch.

Take care of yourself.

All right.

You gonna write me, tell me how you're doing?

-I sure will. -Okay.

-Good-bye, Carla. -Bye-bye.

Good-bye, Boone. Get well.

Bye. Thank you.

If we hurry, we'll be able to make the plane.

All of a sudden, I'm not so sure I want to go.

You haven't changed your mind?

No, not about Marty. It's mom.

She's gonna kill me when I get home.

Well, if she does,

it will be from asphyxiation due to excessive hugging.

[cheerful orchestral music]