Original subtitles

You're breaking my heart! I told you not to pick a fight, didn't I tell you that?

First time I saw that Bennett, I knew he was nothing but trouble. Wayne? Yeah?

I'd like to book you for a private session.

Tonight, a murder, she wrote. A man was found shot to death in Eve's bedroom.

Come on, Wayne.

Don't force me to call your local sheriff. Freddy, of course, he's more my

age, he's witty, and intellectually we're simpatico.

Well, then what's Wayne?

Wayne's all hormones.

Freeze! Don't shoot!

Three, two, three, four. And right. Two, two, four.

Very good. And left.

With the arms. Keep it going.

Feel the burn.

Keep it up. Keep those legs up.

There you go.

That's it. Now keep it up. Work those thighs. Work those thighs. Yes. Feel

that burn. Good.

All right. All right.

You can do it.

Andy, you're not breathing.

Looking good, Evie. Feeling your neck, though?

There too, Wayne.

Left down, Nancy.

Left down.

Wayne? Yeah? I'd like to book you for a private session.

Not the class. I'll take my calendar. Looking good.

Step with your toes, Betty. Back.

Hey, girl.

Will,

look at you. Where are you? Didn't I see you in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit

issue?

Keep it up. Next year, you'll be on the cover.

What a gorgeous box that is. You share, isn't it? You sweet-talking devil, you.

How Sonny ever left you, I'll never understand.

Neither do I, honey. Neither do I.

Okay, ladies, time's up. Time's up. A perfect morning. Keep it up. You are

doing wonderfully.

What a slave driver. You'll love it. Don't we all?

Oh, Eve, I'm ready for an orange juice. How about you? Oh, no, can't, Renee. I

gotta run. I got a prospective buyer coming up from Boston to look at the old

Sullivan farm. Are you still stuck with that eyesore?

Believe it. At night, not even the Sullivan's cows want to come home.

The tension's all up here, Eve. It's from all those hours you spend on the

phone at the office. You get yourself a speakerphone, and while you're on it...

I know, I know. I order your $800 custom-designed X-R-Cycle and ride while

I work. You see? The product sells itself.

Eve?

No matter what the cost, I want a perfect body.

Whose? Yours or his?

This ad of yours in the Boston Globe certainly

piqued my curiosity.

I hope I'm not too late.

Late? Oh, no, Mr. Keppard.

But, well, to be quite truthful, there's...

Quite a bit of interest in the old Sullivan farm, what with so many city

people hearing the call of Mother Nature.

Oh, I heard the call all right.

And it's Fred.

Freddy to my friends.

Well, Fred.

Freddy.

About this $600,000 price tag. Look, if it lives up to its description, $600,000

seems definitely fair.

Right. Fair.

Absolutely.

Do you plan to keep it a dairy farm?

Yes, I do, but... I don't plan to do the milking.

Well, of course not.

Well, it's about a 40-minute drive, so... So let's go. The sooner the

better. I want those cows to give milk, not cottage cheese.

My daughter's off in college.

My wife...

My wife passed away two years ago.

I don't think rattling around in that big old house in Boston is doing me much

good. Besides, I've got to do something with my money.

Real estate has always been a rock-bottom investment for me.

Absolutely.

Oh, my.

Yours?

Since you know the way and I don't, it's yours for now, Eve.

Oh, it is Eve, isn't it?

Oh, yes, Eve is fine.

Evie to my friends.

You know, Jessica, since I started the weighing workout three months ago, I've

never felt better.

One of these days, I'm going to have to meet this miracle man. You know, the

ladies at the beauty parlor can hardly talk about anything else.

Could we pull over for a moment or two? Oh, you can't be tired already.

Well, not me.

Hope you don't mind if we have a little pit stop, Ben, but my legs are giving

out. Oh, just getting warmed up, but...

Anything to oblige a lady?

Nancy was just telling me that Wayne Bennett seems to be revolutionizing

Cabot Cove's health habits.

Well, the female half, anyway.

Yes. We've noticed that his gym hasn't caught on with the chauvinist

population. Give me a brisk walk or a bike ride in the country anytime.

You know, Ben, if you're embarrassed about exercising with a bunch of women,

Wayne does give private workouts in the home.

Not with me, he doesn't.

So, Nancy, what does your husband think about the new you?

You know, Clarence, after 20 years, he finally got used to the old me.

Wasn't that Eve Simpson?

I wonder where she got that new car.

Never mind the car. What about the guy sitting next to her? Well, if I know

Eve, we'll hear all about it.

So when Mr. Keppard said he was interested in settling down, I took him

right out to the old Sullivan place.

He's a man of impeccable taste. He knows just what he wants. I've got his deposit

check in my pocket. Eve, that's wonderful.

Freddie definitely is. Oh, business and pleasure? Oh, you've got to meet him,

Jessica. We're talking charm. We're talking single. We're talking gentleman

farmer with a capital G.

Well, we're not talking, but you're gushing like a schoolgirl. Oh, moi?

Oh, it's good to be back. Thank you. Thank you.

Good morning, Jessica. Good morning.

Have that back for you late tomorrow. Oh, thank you. Good morning, Nancy.

Jessica. May I?

Hi, Wayne. See you in class tomorrow.

Wayne.

Wayne, you've got to meet Jessica Fletcher.

I've seen you around town, Mrs. Fletcher. It's a pleasure. Well, it's

very nice to meet you.

Well, actually, we're not exactly strangers. You were in my bedroom just

last night.

Was I?

I've got one of your books on tape. I listen to it on my exercise.

By the time your killer confessed, I'd peddled halfway to Portland.

Oh, Jessica, why don't you try a session down at Wayne's with me? He's got a

stress reduction program designed for working women like us. Well, thank you,

E, but I take out my stress on my rose bushes.

Oh, uh, by the by, Wayne, do you happen to have an hour tonight?

I really need a private.

Well, I could do you around nine.

Nine at my place it is.

Excuse me, ladies?

Kind of takes your breath away.

Eve, a few moments ago, your breath was taken away by Mr. Kephart.

Oh, yes.

Well, Freddy, of course, he's more my age. He's witty and intellectually we're

simpatico. Well, then what's Wayne?

Oh, Wayne's all hormones.

Hello, Wayne.

Hi. We've got some imported aftershave on special.

Uh, Nancy, want to open that case of dental floss?

Can I help you, Mr. Beck? Well, you sure can, Mr. LaRue. I'd like you folks to

carry my new line of health cocktails.

I'll supply the display stand, and the first case is free.

Lipto, it's Wayne Bennett.

Oh, it's Wayne Bennett.

Geez, well, ain't Elvis come back from the grave?

Oh, Clarence, those juices are just wonderful. I drink three a day, and I

have more energy than ever.

How come the house is always a mess, huh?

I mean, for his workouts, you've got energy. For me, you've got a dead

battery. of work nights joe or maybe you forgot anytime you want to hire a

housekeeper be my guest folks would you mind yeah you're a real charmer bennett

yesterday you soaked my wife for a 99 custom-made shower head guaranteed to

spray her with vitality well i'm the only one gonna spray my wife with

vitality look i don't want any trouble yeah good just take your little dog and

pony show out of town out of state

First time I saw that Bennett I knew it was nothing but trouble

Well,

that's just wonderful

Oh, what is it, Eve? I have to go to Rockport this evening. One of my escrows

is about to fall through. Tonight, of all nights, I had to cancel my massage

with Wayne.

He was very disappointed.

Oh, I imagine he was.

Eve?

Freddie!

Say hello to my friend Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, I'm charmed, Mrs. Fletcher. I've heard so much about you.

And I'm delighted to meet Eve's closest friend.

Well, I've heard raves about you, too, Mr. Keppard.

Please, it's Freddy.

Freddy.

Eve, I stopped by your office.

I'd like to talk to you as soon as possible.

Well, how about now?

We're finished, aren't we, Jessica?

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

I've got a pile of work waiting for me at home.

Well, it was so nice meeting you, Freddy. And I you, Mrs. Fletcher. Thank

you.

Oh. I'll take care of the lunch check, Jessica.

Oh, thank you, Eve.

Bye. Bye-bye.

Eve.

I, uh... I don't know quite how to say this, but... Have you cashed that $10

,000 deposit check I gave you?

Oh, you haven't changed your mind, have you?

Not willingly.

Look, I hate to let you down.

Let me down?

You said that you wanted to retire. I thought... Well, let's just say that my

cash flow flowed out, not in.

Freddie, what's going on?

The truth?

I'm not a farmer, Eve.

Fact is, I'm just a man looking for a quick million.

Oh, really?

Well, a man after my own heart, in more ways than one.

I have an in with a congressman downstate.

This is very confidential.

A regional shopping center may be going up alongside the Sullivan Farm.

Now, the Highway Commission is going to need that acreage as access roads,

connecting the center to the thruway.

In a year, that farm could be worth millions.

Exactly.

My problem is I got all my cash tied up in an offshore Canadian oil venture.

Wait a minute, Freddie.

I have clients.

I have resources.

I have some money.

There's nothing to prevent you and I from pulling this off together.

No. No, I wouldn't let you take the risk.

What risk? You said yourself it was a sure thing.

Tonight, I will bring home some clients' portfolios. And after I get back from

Rockport, I'll see who might be in a position to invest in our hot investment

opportunity.

Nice operation Wayne Fred

Looks like a license to print money.

What are you doing here?

I heard you struck it rich Coach likes to keep track of his star players

I kind of like this new game of yours. Almost smells legit.

It is.

Hey, old buddy, it's me.

It's me you're talking to.

You got yourself in tight with all the ladies in this town.

Like always. Well, it's okay if you're in the nickel and dime stuff, but I got

a better way to cash in. Our old standby.

Real estate.

Not interested.

Oh, come on, Wayne.

Don't force me to call your local sheriff.

Wouldn't be good for business.

For either of us.

You threatening me?

Kid, what you know, I taught you.

And don't you ever forget it.

We'll chat again, kid.

Count on it.

Please. Don't shoot.

Joe.

What the hell are you doing here?

Mr.

Caprit's room, please.

But he's expecting my call. Would you try the room again, please?

Sorry, Mr. Kephart doesn't seem to be answering.

You say you got back around 10 o'clock.

Yes, just about.

I don't know, maybe a little after. Eve, I came as soon as I heard. Oh, God.

Somebody shot him.

Freddy, he's dead. Eve, I'm so sorry.

Miss Simpson, since you found your front door was still locked, you got any idea

how the victim might have got in?

No, I only met him yesterday.

He didn't have a key.

Oh, Sheriff, there was nothing between us, nothing like that.

We were business partners, and I haven't the faintest idea what he was doing

here. While I was trying to reach him at his motel, I noticed my papers were all

messed up.

Well, whoever shot him was obviously rummaging, looking for something. Is

anything missing?

My jewelry's still here.

Well, then we're not dealing with a thief, at least not a jewel thief.

Uh, Sheriff.

Floyd, listen.

I want you to check that all out for fingerprints, all right? Uh, yeah. And

look. Look for footprints outside in the flower bed.

All right.

Mrs. Simpson, the way it looks to me, the killer found the window open,

climbed in, maybe to rob the place, and all of a sudden he's surprised by your

boyfriend. I told you he wasn't my boyfriend.

Eve. Assuming that Fred surprised the intruder, what was he doing here in the

first place? And did he also climb in through the window?

Sheriff, from the amount of blood and the size of the wounds, the weapon must

have been a shotgun fired from, say, 10, 15 feet away.

Well, that accounts for some of those folks outside thinking they heard a car

backfire around 9.15.

Thanks, Charlie. Tell the coroner I need to report ASAP. Okay.

Eve, you're coming to my house for a few days. Get some things. Oh, no, I

couldn't. No, I absolutely insist. Look, the sheriff is going to be sealing off

the house, and you may not want to come back here for a few days.

Thanks,

Jessica.

I just can't figure out how Fred got in or why.

If it was about business, he could have simply asked to see the portfolios I

brought home. Yeah.

What about that check that you mentioned, the binder on the Sullivan

farm? I mean, would he have come to retrieve that?

No. No, I told him I wouldn't cash it, even if I'd wanted to, which I couldn't

because he was temporarily short of funds. Did he know that you were in

Rockport tonight?

Yes, I'd mentioned it. Why? What does that prove?

Well, only that he didn't just drop by.

He knew that you weren't going to be there.

Excuse me.

Oh, Sheriff Metzger. Come in. Mr. Fletcher, thank you. Please, have a

seat. Thank you.

Would you like some coffee?

No, thanks anyway. Mrs. Simpson, we found Fred Kepford's car parked three

blocks away from your house.

Now, it looks to me like he didn't want to be seen pulling up to your front

door. Why not?

You tell me.

Fred wouldn't have been up to anything in my bedroom, at least not without me.

Well, after all, Sheriff, the man was a widower.

A widower, huh?

That explains why we're having trouble notifying his next of kin.

Oh, he told me he had a daughter. She goes to college.

Oh, which one, Eve?

Oh,

Fred didn't exactly say.

What's the daughter's name?

Oh, I'm not exactly sure he told me that either.

He didn't tell anybody much of anything.

Kind of funny, don't you think?

Man pops up out of nowhere, no family, no friends, no job, no home address,

rented car.

Oh, please, Sheriff. Big entrepreneurs always lease their cars for tax

purposes. Oh, yeah?

Are those entre-what's-its-its always three months behind in their car

payments?

Hello?

Oh, yeah. Sheriff, it's for you. Thank you.

That's good.

Oh, he did, huh? No kidding.

Hey, what was that again?

Are you sure about that?

Okay. Okay.

Yeah.

Okay, listen.

Let me know if you hear anything else, will you?

Yeah, take it easy.

Miss Simpson.

Miss Simpson, this guy Kepard?

Yes. Did he ever mention to you any of his other names?

Like Fred Hallberg, alias...

Dr. Fred Hallberg, Frank Horton, and Fritz Hansen.

Guy's got a rap sheet as long as your arm.

And he served a sentence in Joliet prison for bunco.

Bunco?

Fraud. Flim-flam.

The guy was a con man, Mrs. Simpson.

No. No, he wouldn't have. He... He couldn't have.

He wouldn't have what, Eve?

Oh, God!

Was I ever a prized chump?

He was searching through my files, looking for new clients to swindle.

I'm sorry, ma'am. You lost me.

He was trying to get me to invest in the Sullivan farm. He said his money was

tied up, but there was information he had that a shopping center was going up

near the property, and I offered to help him find some investors.

I guess he couldn't wait.

Well, that fits.

This flume flame artist goes poking around her bedroom, and somebody finds

him there.

Sheriff, even assuming that Mr. Kephart had no shortage of enemies, How could

any of them have known that he was at Eve's house at 9 o'clock?

Unless... Eve, besides Mr. Kephart, did you tell anyone

that you would be out of the house at 9?

No one.

Wayne Bennett knew.

You canceled your private workout.

That's right.

Well, that's two.

If Kephart was still alive, we could ask him. Who else?

If Fred was still alive.

would kill him myself.

Sheriff, just off the top of your head, how much time do you think I can get for

breaking into that gym, anyway?

Now you ask.

I knew I shouldn't have gone to work last night. You had that look on your

face. Sheriff, who's that guy that got himself killed?

Out-of-town bunker warden, his name is Kephart.

Know him?

How should I know him?

I hear he and Eve Simpson had something going.

I wouldn't know.

Nancy LaRue just happened to mention she saw him and her driving out of town.

Eve was behind the wheel of his red Jaguar convertible, but probably you

already know that.

She mentioned it.

I'll let you know as soon as your lawyer gets here. Wait there a minute, Sheriff.

Now, last night I was almost run down by a red Jaguar convertible.

I think you probably ought to go talk to Mr. Wayne Bennett.

Wayne Bennett, huh?

Why is that?

Because I saw the dead guy leaving Wayne's workout, that's why.

I come to think of it, we don't know a whole lot about this Bennett now,

either, do we?

A private hour with Wayne at your home is $75.

Tuesday at 8, let me see.

Hi, Sharon.

Mr.

Bennett, can I see you a minute?

Once you ladies warm up, I'll be right in, okay?

So that's where my wife keeps in shape, huh?

Adele is doing splendidly, Sharon. She's made a real commitment here. Yeah, I

know. I just paid her bill from last month.

Well, no pain, no gain.

So is there something I can do for you? Well, I was just driving by. I thought

I'd save you a trip. This is the complaint against Joe Harden. You want

to sign it?

You know, if Joe transferred some of that temper into physical exercise, he'd

live a lot longer. Yeah, well, I'll tell him you suggested it.

I have to stop my wet drinks.

You haven't tried it?

On the house. It's got no sugars, no calories, packed with natural vitamins.

Bottle day, make you a new man, Sheriff. Thanks, I appreciate that.

I'll just save it for the car, all right?

You have a nice day.

Six, seven, and two.

Very good. Very good. Keep it up.

I

am

not a nosy, inquisitive, busybody.

I am a newspaperman hot on the trail of a story, and the cold-blooded murder of

a con man in your bedroom happens to be news, Mrs. Simpson. You are making it

seem as if Mr. Keppert and I were having an affair to occur, Mr. Devlin. I think

you've been watching too much Geraldo.

Well, one of us has, yes.

All right, you two, now that's enough.

Jessica, I have a paper to get out. This would be a pretty good story even in St.

Louis. Here in Cabot Cove, it is real big news.

Not necessarily, and besides, everybody in town already knows what happened.

She may be right, Ben.

You know, the printed page will never scoop the beauty parlor hotline.

Well, maybe so, but I'll be hanged if I'm going to turn the Gazette into a

puff piece for Mrs. Simpson's real estate handouts.

That's it.

Consider my advertising budget withdrawn, Mr. Devlin. Consider it done,

Mrs. Simpson.

But I can see that coming here was a complete waste of time.

Oh, Ben, wait. If you will excuse me, I am going to get some coffee.

Eve! Eve Simpson, in whose bedroom the victim was discovered, was asked if she

knew him and how she knew him. Mrs. Simpson's response was, no comment.

And you can quote me.

Ben, wait. I need to lift to LaRue's drugstore before it closes.

Eve, I'll be back in a few minutes.

Try to come back alone.

Cancel her advertising.

That's a hot one. She hasn't paid her bill in three months. Well, the town's

pretty quiet lately.

Quiet? You ought to rename this place Catatonia. I came back for peace and

quiet, not embalming.

Hello? Nancy?

Is anybody here?

Oh, hello, Jessica.

You made it just before closing. Oh, with a minute to spare.

I came to get my film. Hello there, Mr. Devlin.

I'll sure be glad to close up. Been a busy day working shorthanded.

Oh, where's Nancy?

Drove up to Augusta last night. Family emergency.

Oh, dear.

Yep, her sister took sick, and Nancy's helping out with the kids. I'll put this

on your charge.

Thank you. Say hello when she gets back.

Good night, Clarence. Good night.

And, Jessica, I'll tell you what else I think. Oh, Ben, we all know what you

think.

It is not just idle gossip, Betty. I got it straight from Loretta down at the

beauty parlor.

A man was found shot to death in Eve's bedroom.

Besides, it made the morning papers.

I read the newspapers.

Now, exactly what the man was wearing, I wouldn't know.

I know, Renee. The look was Ivy League. But the jury is still out on whether the

suit was paid for. Oh, my, my, my. Aren't we testing? Now, listen, Renee.

Okay, girls.

Let's not turn this into kickboxing, all right? All right.

How are you feeling here?

Well, not too bad, except for this crick in my neck. Oh, you do, huh?

Oh, right there. Oh, yeah. Oh, that's great.

Where's Nancy LaRue today? I don't know. Don't stop.

Come on.

Let's work out those kinks.

All right, ladies. Back to work. Come on, everybody. Get moving.

Let's go.

Come on.

Okay. Come on. Come on. Pull it up. Pull it up. Form two lines. And no raises.

Tuck your tummy. And on my count.

One, two, three, four.

Five, come on, six, count with me, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Sorry, ladies, class dismissed.

Sheriff, if this is about my complaint to Joe Harden, can't it wait until

tomorrow? It isn't, and no, it can't.

Wayne Bennett, alias Wayne Freeman, I'm arresting you for the murder of Fred

Kephart. Hit the showers, ladies.

You have the right to remain silent.

If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be

used against you in a court of law.

Hello? Jessica, thank God.

Sheriff Metzger just arrested Wayne Bennett for murder.

What? He pulled him right out of class.

Jessica, this is insane.

Eve, believe me, Sheriff Metzger would not arrest Wayne without some kind of

evidence. Like what?

When I tried to stop him, Sheriff Metzger said I was just another one of

Wayne's hysterical, love-smitten customers. He won't even let me visit

him. Oh, please, Jessica, you've got to do something.

Now, six months ago, when you came into this town, you probably thought you were

dealing with some hick sheriff.

Wrong, buddy boy.

That little bottle of orange sunshine you handed me? Well, I sent that nice

set of fingerprints off to the FBI.

Just on a hunch.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher. I'm kind of busy right now.

Oh, that's quite all right, Sheriff. I'll wait.

The feds faxed me a rap sheet on a guy named Wayne Freeman, released from

Joliet prison a year ago.

Now, from the description of this guy, he could be your twin brother.

Would you like me to read you a list of the Bunko convictions?

Okay, okay. I was in prison. I didn't care much for the experience, so I

decided to get into something legitimate.

Legitimate, huh?

Well, the last time you were busted, your partner was a guy named Fred

Keppard. Are you following me, Mr. Bennett?

Hey, I didn't kill him. Look, I had Joe Harden locked up back there all night

until his lawyer just bailed him out.

Now, he says he saw Kepper driving away from your gym the night he was killed.

OK.

All right, Fred located me two days ago.

He wanted to use me in some lame scheme. He was working on Eve Simpson to con the

other women in town.

I said no.

I told Fred that I was on the level these days.

But he figured I owed him. So he threatened to go public with your past

unless you joined him.

Okay.

So where were you between 8 and 10 last Friday night?

In my apartment, watching TV, alone.

Alone, huh?

Too bad.

Okay, Floyd, lock him up.

What about a lawyer?

Let him run his fingers through the yellow pages.

You said you got his prints off a bottle of his orange drink?

Right. And did you analyze the contents?

Yeah.

Usual ingredients.

Sodium benzoate, ascorbic acid, carob bean gum, and oh yeah, even a little

orange juice.

No drugs, no poison, nothing illegal or fraudulent?

Okay, okay, Mrs. Fletcher. I know what you're going to say.

He's a nice guy. He couldn't possibly have done it.

No, that isn't what I was going to say at all.

You weren't? No, he may very well have killed Mr. Carrot.

But I'm pretty sure that he wasn't telling the truth about something.

What I'd like to suggest is, that is if it's all right with you, of course.

Of course.

Is that I spend a few moments alone with him.

Maybe get him to open up a bit. Who knows, he might tell me something that

he would feel reluctant to reveal to you.

You mean confess?

Mrs. Fletcher, be my guest.

Eve Simpson is very worried about you, Wayne.

You see, she's convinced that you're innocent.

Eve's a good judge of character.

She also believed that Fred Keppard was a charming widower with a healthy bank

account.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm not into murder.

As a matter of fact, I'm not even into bunco. I mean, not anymore.

I mean, not really.

I mean, sure, I suppose I could charge a little less for my health drinks or the

T-shirts or even the sessions.

But what I'm selling these ladies is a sense of well-being, of belonging.

They get their money's worth.

Well, I suppose there is a certain amount of con attached to any business.

Like, well, like when my agent calls me and talks me into going into a personal

appearance tour.

The problem is, Wayne, aside from Eve Simpson, no one in this town even knew

Fred Kephart.

And while it's easy to believe a lot of things about Eve, murder is not one of

them. Look, I swear to you, I didn't kill him.

Well, perhaps not.

But you weren't alone in your apartment watching TV when he was killed.

Where were you, Wayne?

Look, all I can tell you, Mrs. Fletcher, is I didn't kill him.

It's ridiculous.

Arresting Wayne.

That dumb sheriff, he ought to have his head examined. And his wife. Did you

know that she's got a Marine Corps tattoo right here?

No.

It's criminal.

You know, I think we should get together. I mean, all of us. Form a

committee, hire an attorney. Ah, my husband, the lawyer. Fine. Fine by me.

As soon as we get home, we'll start calling. Good.

Manager, price check. Number two. Manager, price check on number two.

Um, excuse me. Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, hello.

It's Betty, isn't it? I think we met one night at Eve Simpson's house. Right.

I wasn't sure that you'd remember.

Um, Mrs. Fletcher, I think I kind of need your advice.

I mean, I know I should go to the sheriff, but Wayne told me not to.

But I don't know.

Well, what is it?

Wayne told the sheriff that the night Fred Kepard was killed, that he was

alone in his apartment watching television.

That isn't true.

Fact is, he was with me.

Look, Betty, I know that you want to help Wayne in any way that you can,

but... It's not a lie.

Please believe me. We were together all evening.

Until son of, as a matter of fact.

And I'll swear to that in court.

I see.

No, no, I'm not sure that you do.

You see, for the past nine months, Wayne and I have been married.

Look, Sheriff, what I'm selling isn't just exercise. The only way it can

possibly work is for me to pretend I'm single.

I have my own little place down by the beach. I rented it under my maiden name.

We'll show you a marriage license if you want.

Okay, so you got a license.

Mrs. Bennett, did you happen to know this guy Kephart?

No, I... I mean, I knew of him, of course.

Look, Sheriff, there's no reason to keep Wayne here anymore, is there?

Well, I'm afraid I don't quite see it that way, ma'am.

You see, all I've got is your word that your husband was with you the night of

the murder.

No, you're not exactly an impartial witness.

I'm sorry, ma'am. Until the courts tell me different, he stays right here.

Look, sweetie, I heard it straight from Ideal Malloy, who heard it straight from

Phyllis Grant.

There's got to be some mistake.

Yeah, and old Blue Eyes made it. I want a refund on my lifetime membership.

Me too. Well, the line forms to the right, girls.

But I'm sorry, you women all signed contracts.

I just can't... That was before we knew Wayne was married.

Married? He could be a murderer.

Look, honey, we get our money back or my husband, the lawyer, turns this place

into a pizza parlor.

You know, one thing just doesn't add up. If Wayne was going back to his old con

games, why kill Fred Keppard? I mean, why not just team up with him and

operate the land swindle?

Oh, Sheriff, there you are.

Sheriff, if you're all finished, I'd like to move back in now.

It's me, ladies. Floyd.

Sheriff's in the living room. I'll check with him.

Oh, dear.

Maybe that's what happened.

What? Eve, who besides you and me and Wayne knew that you wouldn't be at the

house Friday night?

Just Fred, I guess.

Which is why Fred showed up to go through your files.

A darkened bedroom window. He was shot from 10, 15 feet away?

Yes.

Maybe he was shot from outside the house. Maybe he was shot from here,

through the open window.

And like me... The killer couldn't see inside very well, so he shot Fred by

mistake. Eve, someone else was supposed to be here at this house that night. At

least he was, until you canceled the appointment.

Wayne.

Oh, come on, Mrs. F.

You're making it sound like the guy I got locked up wasn't the killer, but the

intended victim. Exactly.

The killer expected Wayne to be here and shot Fred by mistake in the dark,

probably through the open window.

Well, suppose you're right. Where would I start?

Every husband in town wanted to kill Wayne. All except you, Sheriff.

Thanks, Floyd.

Wait a minute. Joe Harden.

Joe Harden? Who had a better motive?

Oh, Jessica, you remember Joe was at the pharmacy. He overheard me make that 9 o

'clock appointment with Wayne.

But he didn't know you'd canceled.

Uh, Sheriff? Sure.

Joe shoots Kepard thinking it's Wayne. And then I arrest him on an ambi-pambi

charge of breaking into a gym. He gets 30 days instead of 30 years. Sheriff,

uh, what is it, Floyd?

Well, can't be Joe Harden.

What do you mean, can't be Joe Harden? This Kepard fellow was shot at 9.15.

Yeah?

And the fact is... Yeah?

You arrested Joe at the gym at 9 o'clock.

Just a moment, Sheriff.

Eve, at the pharmacy.

Now, Joe was not the only one who overheard you and Wayne make that

appointment.

No, Nancy LaRue is standing... Oh, my gosh.

She's missed the last two days at the gym.

I stopped by the pharmacy the other evening.

Clarence said that Nancy left town the night that Fred was killed to visit her

sister in Augusta. Left town?

Or skipped town?

So, Friday night.

Where did you go, Mrs. LaRue? She told you. She went to visit her sister in

Augusta. Sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to hear from your wife.

Eileen's kids were both sick with the flu, and her husband was out of town on

business, so she called and asked if I could stay for a couple of days.

That's all there is to it.

Does your sister have a phone number?

Sheriff, I didn't kill this Fred Keppard. I didn't even know him.

But you knew Wayne Bennett.

Excuse me, Nancy.

What time did you leave for Augusta?

I don't know.

Around nine, I guess.

Anyone see you?

No.

No, wait.

I pulled into the Dusty River Motel around ten o'clock. It's about an hour's

drive from here on the interstate. It's just outside of Witsonburg, I believe.

Floyd, check it out. Sheriff, what the hell is this all about?

My wife didn't kill anybody.

Maybe yes, maybe no.

Nancy, it seems odd to me that you would stop off at a motel.

I mean, you were only an hour from Augusta.

Well, I... I was tired. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I was afraid of falling

asleep at the wheel. That's right. And she called Eileen and said she wouldn't

arrive until the next morning. Isn't that right, honey?

Yes.

That's right.

Okay, if I call her on it?

Sheriff, this is ridiculous.

My goodness.

That's a nasty bruise you have near your eye.

Though it seems to be clearing up.

Mrs. LaRue, you mind telling me how you got that?

Yes, she does mind.

Mr. LaRue, do you mind?

Clarence.

It's no good. I can't lie anymore.

Nancy, don't.

The truth is, Clarence and I had a fight.

I came home around 8.30 or so.

I'd been down by the ocean sitting and thinking. I do that a lot when I want to

sort things out for myself.

And I had a lot on my mind.

Such as?

My life.

My marriage.

Clarence had been drinking.

He started accusing me of being with Wayne while I hadn't been, but he

wouldn't listen to me. He never listens to me when it gets like that. Alcohol

makes him crazy.

He hit me.

For a moment, I thought he was going to kill me. All I could think of was

getting out of there.

I didn't even pack a bag.

I drove and drove. I had no idea where I was going. And I saw the motel, and I

pulled in. I was so upset. I realized that I was maybe going to have an

accident on the road.

Sheriff.

Motel says Mrs. LaRue checked in about 10 Friday night, just like she said.

Checked out this morning.

Well, I guess I'd let you off the hook, ma'am.

Looks like I've been barking up the wrong tree.

No.

Not the wrong tree, Sheriff.

Merely the wrong branch.

We both were.

What are you looking at me for? I didn't shoot the guy through that window.

Didn't you, Clarence?

Whoever killed Fred Keppard thought he was killing Wayne.

Who could possibly have known that Wayne would be at Eve's house at 9 o'clock?

Only someone at the pharmacy, who happened to overhear Eve make the

appointment. Joe was already arrested by that time.

And Lil was at work.

And since Nancy's in the clear, that leaves... Eve Simpson.

No. Eve was in Rockport, dealing with some clients.

There's something else, Clarence.

You said you didn't shoot Fred through that open window. How did you know that

that's where the shot came from?

Clarence!

I never was much of a liar.

Ain't much of a killer, either.

Hiding in the shadows.

I had too much to drink that night, like Nancy said.

I was pitifully drunk and feeling sorry for myself. All I could think about was

losing Nancy.

And then it hit me. I remembered Wayne would be at Eve, so I grabbed my

shotgun. All I could think about was that damn city fella and his line of gab

and his hands.

Every woman in town and us husbands paying for the privilege.

I came up the side of her house, looked in the window.

It was dark, but I saw him.

I figured I'd be doing myself and every man in town a favor.

I fired, and he dropped.

Then I didn't hear a sound. I knew I got him.

As soon as I got home, I hit the couch and passed out.

When I woke up the next morning and saw my gun,

what I did all came back

to me.

Clarence.

Wasn't till later that day I found out I shot the wrong man.

I love you, honey.

Always have.

I'm sorry.

It just come out all wrong.

Thanks. That was a county attorney's office.

LaRue's pleaded guilty to second degree.

It'll be quite a while before he fills another prescription.

John Barleycorn and a jealous nature are definitely not boon companions.

So, Mort, what's in the box?

What box?

That box.

Ben and I are dying of curiosity.

Uh, it's just a little peace offering from Wayne to show there were no hard

feelings. Oh, how very thoughtful of him.

What is it?

It's a, uh...

Custom-made showerhead.

Comes with a full-range spray and a contemporary white finish.

How nice of Wayne to give it to you.

Uh, well, he didn't exactly, uh, give it to me. Then why did it cost you?

Not a dime, I swear.

Comes absolutely free when you sign up for a year's worth of Wayne's new

bodybuilding classes.

You, Mort? Surely you jest.

This is strictly self-preservation, believe me.

Last night, Adelamy got into a little arm-wrestling competition.

She took me 10 out of 10.

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear is right.

Before she started going to Wayne's, I'd always win at least one, sometimes even

two.