All language subtitles for Murder, She Wrote S08E06 Judge Not.DVDRip.NonHi.en

What's happening?

Storm's coming soon.

I don't know what you want.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

You let me have the twilight
and I'll show you a city that...

Well, I'll leave the
description up to you.

Mr. Henley, you
do your city proud.

I understand you've been
asking around about Luna Santee.

She's a witch, ma'am.

She was murdered 20 years ago.

You're no longer needed here.

You are going to catch a plane
and you are going to go home.

Freeze!

Brothers and sisters, let us
thank God for the beautiful music

that poured out of Daddy
Coop's heart to the world.

Amen!

And for the love that
poured out of his heart

to his family, his
closest loved ones,

and to his many, many friends,
who have come here today

to pay their deep
and sincere respects

to a man who wanted
simply to play his music

and bring happiness
to those he loved.

May God have mercy on his soul.

Oh, thank you.

You know, I don't think I can
get used to such a happy funeral.

New Orleans certainly does know
how to say goodbye to the ones it loves.

We celebrate our loved
ones away, Jessica.

This is Daddy
Coop's ride to glory.

All right, then.

For the music that he gave
us and for the man that he was,

on to glory. On to glory.

John. John Jr.! Drink with us.

Jessica, you remember
Daddy Coop's mama.

Emma, Jessica and
I volunteer together

for the United Negro
College Fund. Excuse me.

94.

Pardon me?

In case you were wondering.
Memory's still sharp as a blade, though.

Oh, that's wonderful.

So's my hearing.

I'm so sorry.

Everything else is suspect.

Do you all mind the humidity?

Well, I suppose that
one gets used to it.

Not yet.

Junior, please.

Can't you make your
peace even now?

Mama, I wish the man well, okay.

But the way these
people are carrying on,

"His greatness and his love."

My daddy was no saint.

That kind of trouble
doesn't get buried in a grave.

What kind of trouble, Emma?

Storm's coming soon.

Oh, I didn't see
a cloud in the sky.

I can smell the fire in the air.

Detective Coop.

Perhaps today I
can call you John,

and you can call me Andy.

I want to offer my deep regrets.

Thank you.

Your father was proud to know his
son was such a respected police officer.

Oh, I don't know how much
respect he carried for policemen.

Or for attorneys,
for that matter.

I guess we'll never
know, Mr. Henley.

I wanted you to meet
my son, finally, but...

He and his father always
sparked against each other.

At 19, he just walked
away from the family,

into the Marines,
into the police,

as far away from Daddy and
Daddy's music as he could get.

I always hoped...

Now it's too late for them.

Yeah. Nice, guys. Nice.

Bring me a cool one, huh?

Oh, Melinda, there you are.

Hello, Jessica.

Jack, just the best stand-up
bass player in the land.

Oh, used to be. But
I'm a club owner, now.

And you know, Melinda, I have a whole lot
of memories on display over at my place.

Daddy's own charts and tapes.
Pictures. And even our old instruments.

Oh, I'd love to
come have a look.

Matter of fact, it would
do me good right now.

I've been gathering up a lot
of Daddy's things in one place.

Kind of a museum.

And not just Daddy's work, but the
music he helped to start, rhythm and blues.

Sounds like a fine
idea. If there's anything

I can do to help,
please let me know.

And I speak for
my father, as well.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm Andy Henley and I've
been following your work with pleasure.

I hope we meet again soon under
happier circumstances. Thank you.

Excuse me. Uh-huh.

Who is that?

We used to call Andy
Henley "The judge's boy,"

but now he's a prosecutor
and practically a judge himself.

He might be a real
help to you, Melinda.

Would you just listen to that?
How do you suppose Emma knew?

It was a sad day today

as New Orleans said goodbye
to one of her favorite sons.

Blues great Daddy
Coop died yesterday.

Coop was one of the first musicians
to perform at Preservation Hall

after its dedication in 1961.

His distinctive style of music
is known the world over...

Here you go, sir. ...as well
as many of the songs he wrote.

John "Daddy" Coop,
dead of cancer at 62.

As his friends say goodbye
in New Orleans today,

they say goodbye
to a piece of history.

He will long be remembered
by his family and friends.

If you ask me, it's stupid. It ain't
safe driving around in weather like this.

Especially the way you do it.

Every birthday you
get 10 miles slower.

Pretty soon you'll be backing up
when you ought to be going forward.

I wonder where Jack Lee is?
He said he was gonna be here.

Jack Lee?

I wonder where
he is? Look at that.

What do you suppose
happened here?

Jack Lee?

Jack Lee.

Melinda, keep them
away. Call the police.

He's gone.

Well, I suppose that Johnson
surprised whoever was searching here.

You got any idea what
they were looking for?

How long had he been dead
when Mrs. Fletcher found him?

We just can't tell till we get
the Medical Examiner's report.

Well, his trouser legs were
still wet from the puddles outside.

And his car engine
was still warm.

Y'all checked on that, did you?

Habit.

What does your habit
tell you about this?

This mark on his neck, here.

Could have been
strangled with a rope.

A rope with a knot in it.

No, it's too perfect.

Yeah. A prefect square.

This family's been living on
borrowed time for 20 years,

and now the devil
will have his due.

What does she mean by that?

Don't try to make any sense
out of what my grandmother says.

She knew the storm
was coming, John.

The soon-to-be Museum
of Rhythm and Blues.

You have something
that belongs to me.

Give it up and all the
trouble ends. Forever.

I don't know what you want.

He's gone.

He's called me at my home, too.

Keeps saying I have
something that belongs to him.

Maybe it's just a prank.

What was it that Emma
said about the family?

Some trouble 20 years ago?

Oh.

Oh, everybody's got trouble.

She was trouble then
and she's trouble now.

Trouble set to music.

"20 years ago," she said.

It's her, I suppose.
Luna Santee.

That's what Grandma
Coop was talking about.

She died 20 years ago.

Luna Santee?

Mmm-hmm.

She came out of nowhere.

Made this one album with
Daddy and she died soon after.

Nobody knows...

Is somebody else
supposed to be in here?

Just us.

Who's in here?

Melinda, I think
that we should go.

We can call the police
from somewhere else.

There's nothing in here but
memories. Nothing to steal.

If anyone's in here,
please answer me.

Hello, John.

I've just come from
giving my statement.

I've got a killer day
today, Mrs. Fletcher.

No joke intended.

Oh, is that why you
didn't return my calls?

The city is full of trash
this morning, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm the broom. Excuse me.

But you did hear what happened
to your mother and I last night?

Yes, I heard. And?

And I think it's time you went back
to your own business, Mrs. Fletcher.

My business?

Yes. The Johnson murder
case is in our hands now.

As a matter of fact,
here's the report. You can...

I've already read it.

Lieutenant Foret has been much
more cooperative and friendly.

I wonder why.

You know, John, I've known
people with a chip on their shoulder,

but you seem to be
carrying the whole tree.

Why are you
studying this so hard?

Are we the makings
of your next novel?

John, your mother was
terrorized last night. Put in danger.

And I happen to believe that
it has something to do with

some buried
problem in your family.

John, what's happening?
Why can't you tell me?

Yes, I will tell you
what is happening.

You are going to catch a plane
and you are going to go home.

You've been a great
help to my mother.

Thank you.

But you're no longer
needed here. Understood?

Well, I believe I'll let Melinda
tell me if she needs me.

And I like to make my own arrangements
as to when and where I travel.

Is that understood?

Ooh, I just felt an icy
northern wind blow by.

Oh, good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh! I'm so sorry.

It's very dangerous for you to walk at a
New York pace through a southern town.

It's the wrong rhythm.

See, we're all
languid down here.

It's just something in the air.

Am I talking too slowly?

You're doing just fine.

Now, you could probably pack
three days’ worth of productive activity

into just one of our lazy
afternoons, but, you see,

we live a long time and
stress is just a distant cousin.

Now, tell me, how much of
New Orleans have you seen?

Well, most of the major
sights, a few antique stores,

and, of course,
the police station.

Well, let me show you my appreciation
for your very entertaining writing

by escorting you
through my New Orleans.

Well, that's awfully kind of you,
but I'm only here a very short while.

Tonight, then?

You see, we're very
impulsive in our languid way.

Well, I promised to spend part
of the night with Melinda Coop.

Then the early evening is mine.

You let me have the twilight
and I'll show you a city that...

Well, I'll leave the
description up to you.

Now, may I pick
you up at your hotel?

5:30? How am I doing now?

Mr. Henley, you
do your city proud,

and I'd be more than happy

to be in your company for the
early evening, thank you so much.

All right, you make it
smooth for this lady. Yes, sir.

Homicide. Hold on.

Coop.

Yeah. It's yours.

Yeah.

You have something I want.

Yes, I do.

Give it up and all the
trouble ends. Forever.

How?

Tomorrow night. The old
cemetery on Grant Street.

Come after dark. Leave it at the
tomb marked "Villard." You have that?

Yeah, I got it. And then walk
away and don't look back.

That's very important.

You know, there really is something
sultry and seductive about this place.

Any questions so far?
Historical, political?

Actually, yes. There is
one, if you don't mind.

Think back 20 years, Andy.

What does the name
Luna Santee mean to you?

I'm sorry. You know I
can't resist a mystery.

Particularly if it
concerns a dear friend.

Oh, yeah. Luna, the singer.

A beautiful woman of color,
with a smile that would kill a cat.

Then you knew her?

Oh, no.

But I saw her perform
with Daddy Coop's band.

Then she died.

Oh, yeah, I remember. Strangled.

Quite a scandal
there for a minute.

I was pretty young,
but I remember.

Is the time concerning
you? Should we...

Oh, no. No. It's just that...

I've lost some weight recently, and my
watch keeps slipping around on my wrist

and my collars are too loose.

And I've been a good boy
and I've been exercising

and drinking coffee instead
of cocktails. Hallelujah.

But, now, we were
talking about history.

How would you like a
walk through the past?

Well, all right.
Fine. Where is it?

At home.

The Henley mansion.

Formerly, the Henley plantation.

Wonderful, aren't they?

Oh, yeah!

That one. If that one
looks like a Monet, it is.

Oh, yes.

Andy, doesn't anybody live here?

Oh, well, my father and I
both keep apartments in town,

but we get out
here occasionally.

Spooky, isn't it? Hmm.

Oh, this must be the old garden
district, the way it was years ago.

There's more. Follow me.

It really is an
incredible collection.

Andy?

Andy?

Andy, are you hiding?

I really do have to get
to Melinda's, you know.

How y'all doing?

Can you imagine
growing up in this place?

Secret doors, hidden rooms.
Come on in here, little lady.

Oh, it's fascinating.

Oh. They hid people in
here during the Civil War.

And who is... That?

That is my father,

the judge.

A self-portrait.

He did this?

My goodness, he was
a very good painter.

He was.

He hasn't touched
a canvas in years.

Oh, what a shame.

There's a look of
sadness around his eyes.

Oh, well, he painted it not
long after my mother died.

So maybe he was.

I see.

There's a strong resemblance
to you around the mouth,

and I notice that you're
wearing that lovely garnet ring.

You don't miss a thing, do you?

He gave me this
when I passed the bar.

Passing me the torch, I suppose.

Now, if you like, I can show you

a painting he did
of me as a cherub.

Oh, now, Andy. Wings and all.

No more. I really must get
to Melinda's. Another time.

All right. I understand.

This place gets a little
spooky, even for a Henley.

Despite the circumstances,

it's nice of you to
visit Miss Melinda.

She brightens up a bit
when you come around.

Oh. Thank you, Gene.

May I ask you a question?

Mmm-hmm.

You've worked for
the Coops for so long...

Do you recall a woman by
the name of Luna Santee?

She was a witch, ma'am.
That's all I'm gonna say about her.

Freeze!

I'm afraid I can't
help you, Lieutenant.

I don't know what
they were searching for.

But unless I miss my guess, John Coop
might be able to shed some light on this.

Yes, ma'am. Well, John Coop
has some troubles of his own.

He was involved in
a shooting last night.

Refuses to talk about it.
He's facing suspension.

Just what is his
link to all this?

Well, I'm not sure.

But I believe that it has
something to do with a Luna Santee.

Yes. Allow me, ma'am.

Thank you.

Well, Your Honor.

Mrs. Fletcher. I'm not on
the bench now, Charles.

I've come here
hat-in-hand to apologize.

My son informs me that
you've been ill-treated in our city.

Judge Henley, I recognize
you from your self-portrait.

I'm so sorry about what
happened, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, believe me, I'm fine now.

The hotel has been wonderful.

I mean, look at all these
magnificent flowers.

What was stolen?

Apparently nothing, Andy.

Mrs. Fletcher, I understand you've
been asking around about Luna Santee?

Do you remember the case?
She was murdered 20 years ago.

Oh, yes, I remember. I was
district attorney then, but...

You see, we just had one
suspect, John "Daddy" Coop.

Although, at the time, I supposed
his son might have done it.

Well, you see, the lady
was Daddy Coop's mistress.

You say you thought the son...

Yes. John Jr. Wasn't
he about your age, Andy?

He would've been
19, Daddy. Yeah.

Well, it was common knowledge

that the father and the son
didn't get along, but, well...

We had no evidence
against the boy,

and, you know, since then, he's
turned into one fine police officer

with a spotless record.

Till now, that is.

And Daddy Coop?

Well, he had an
unshakeable alibi,

so we released him.
It was all hushed up.

No sense ruining a
career without any proof.

Now, how are we gonna help you

forget all of this
unpleasantness?

You know what I suggest?

The world's finest
coffee and beignets.

Please. That sounds
like a wonderful idea.

Come. The Henleys will calm your
fears and slay all of your dragons.

Morning, Gene.

What'd you do to your arm there?

Nothing important.

Got some fresh
lemonade here. Still cold.

Sure is good to see you
come around the place.

Guess this ain't
no social visit, is it?

Where were you last
night, Gene? About 11:15?

I was driving Mrs.
Fletcher back to her hotel.

She and your mother
had come over for a visit.

Why'd you have to ask me that?

Like you're the man,
and I'm some trash?

You knew Luna, didn't you?

Even before my father did.

You introduced them, didn't you?

Nobody ever knew
Luna, Johnny. Not inside.

But the two of you were blood.

I checked it out.

Your mother's maiden
name was Santee, wasn't it?

Why do you come around
here asking about the witch?

She was just a woman, Grandma.

My daddy was just a man.

So, tell me something.
Where did she come from?

She just didn't drop like
a stone from no place.

She got any relatives around here,
anybody who gave a hank about her?

Somebody who might
want revenge for her murder?

Policemen.

You're in the middle of a storm,
and you can't even feel the rain.

My daddy killed her, didn't he?

Your daddy got his heart broke.

But he killed her, didn't he?

You walked out on the family.

Hearts got broke
and people died,

and it was all
because of the witch.

Mama.

I didn't hear you come in.

What happened, honey?

It's okay. It's just a
couple of stitches.

I've had worse.

Don't I know it.

Every time you'd hurt
yourself, I'd get a stitch.

I've never stopped worrying about
the danger you throw yourself into.

Sit down.

Can I get you... Nothing, Mama.

I'm glad you're here.

You sure?

Yes. No matter what you have
to say, it'll be better than silence.

We've had too much of that.

Questions, Mama.

You should've asked
him, a long time ago.

Instead you closed the door.

I thought he did it.

How you judged him, Johnny. You
never asked him for what you needed.

I remember you always
watching him so hard.

As if you wanted him to know,

to know your heart,
and when he didn't,

you didn't give him
much of a chance.

Mama, there's
something I never told you.

It was about me walking away and
getting on that train when I was 19.

I did try and talk to
him. The morning before.

I wanted to make things
right. I wanted to talk it out.

I went to his place on Z Street.

And you walked in on
him and Luna Santee.

He told me. He
told me all of it.

How could he do that to you?

How could he do that to us?

And how could you know
about it and just lie for him?

You judged him and found him
guilty long before that, Johnny.

You were angry because
he was Daddy to everybody,

but in some ways he
didn't belong to us, Johnny.

He belonged to his music.

Just listen to yourself,
Mama. You never judged him.

You just let him... I let him
be who he was and he let me.

I forgave him, and he forgave
me. We all have our sins.

I mean, that's what families
do. They forgive each other.

That's what makes them families.

No, Mama. You lied for him.

He killed her, and
you lied for him.

No, Johnny.

He was with me that night.

Back in my arms,
just as I told the police.

Now you can judge
me. Am I a liar?

No, Mama, you don't lie.

But you see, there's someone else
out there who's digging for the truth.

And they're
willing to kill for it.

And I have to make it right.

I have to stop it.

What's going on?

Are you prepared to talk
about that shooting last night?

For instance, why were
you in the graveyard?

And who fired at you? And,

just how is your family
mixed up in all this?

I'll put it together in a
couple days, Lieutenant.

Un-uh.

You're gonna give me your gun
and your badge. It's a suspension.

Temporary. Pending
an investigation.

That is, unless you're
willing to tell me everything.

When I know, I'll tell you.

Fair enough.

Oh, John.

Are you gonna hit me
with that or tell me the truth?

For Melinda's sake, I hope
you make the right choice.

"Dear John Jr.,

"I guess I've put everything into
my music, even my feelings for you.

"Sorry. It's my way.

"You're going to have to face Luna
one more time. That's what started it all.

"Judge not, Junior.
Love, Daddy."

Now, this letter came to
me out of my daddy's will.

It has clues in it,
but it's a puzzle.

It sounds as if he was worried
that it might fall into the wrong hands.

Almost as if it's
in code, isn't it?

It's leading me to
something. And whatever it is,

there's someone out there
trying to get it, willing to kill for it.

He killed Johnson.
He almost killed me.

What clues do you hear in it?

I'd always heard that
Daddy recorded a song

that mentioned
Luna after her murder,

but he never released it.

Play it.

Okay, keeping time from the top.

Some people keep the peace
and some keep up the pace

Looking under every
nickel for a dime

But I'm just sitting here
in this old rocking chair

Singing to myself
and keeping time

It's not very easy
listening to his voice now.

I realize that this is
very difficult, John.

But it is vital that
you do listen to it.

I remember the night
the moon made me crazy

Stealing time...

"The moon made me
crazy." Now, "Luna" is moon.

Yes.

Play it again.

I remember the night
the moon made me crazy

Stealing time on Easy Street

Where the air smelled like candy

Easy Street?

That's Z Street. He used to
call it "Easy Street" as a joke.

My daddy had a
small apartment there.

Can you take me there, John?

That was where I first
found them together.

Luna and my father.

That's the place
where she was killed.

Except for the cobwebs and
the spiders, it's still the same.

I don't even know what we're
looking for. Letters? A photograph?

Well, I think we'll
know when we find it.

We better find it soon, John.

Before he comes after you again,
or your mother or your grandmother.

I'm even one of his targets now.

Then we'll find it.

It's just a bunch of old junk.

Ouch.

You okay? Something sharp.

Let me see. Hold on a second.

You know, I think
we're wasting our time.

I don't think there's
anything here.

There is something.

The song. At least
you found that.

And you heard your father

talking about how
much he loved his son.

You have that now.

I wish he could've told me.

He did. In the only
way that he knew how.

I loved him.

You know, this canvas
that I scratched my hand on,

it isn't tacked. Not tacked
like a normal canvas.

It's all stapled.

Maybe there's
something underneath it.

Here, let me hold
it for you. Yeah.

It's Luna.

I know that room.
I was in there.

This is Judge Henley's mansion.

Judge Henley and
Luna. That's the secret.

And he must have
killed her, not my father.

He killed her and tried to
convict my father of the crime.

They would've railroaded
him into the grave,

but Daddy had this,
and he kept it hidden

and he kept the judge at bay.

But why didn't he
take this to the police?

Because back then, Judge
Henley was the police.

He was the power in this town.

No black man could've
gone against him directly.

But this was my
daddy's ace in the hole.

It protected him, and it
protected us all these years.

Now I understand.

Jessica. Jessica!

I asked the police
to look after you

and they spotted you
in John Coop's car.

You all right? Oh,
yes. Yes, I'm fine.

I think it's your father you should
be worried about, Mr. Henley.

I don't understand that remark.

Maybe not, but
it's all over now.

What are you talking about?

The Luna Santee case, the
Jack Lee Johnson murder,

the attempted
murder of a policeman.

It's all clear now.

It is?

That's my daddy's work.

In the hidden room.

My father and Luna Santee.

And by the way, where's the police
unit that supposedly spotted my car?

There isn't any police
car, is there, Andy?

You found this
place by yourself.

You've been here
before, at least once.

The night you
murdered Luna Santee.

What?

You talked about
Luna's smile, Andy.

When did you see It?
It's not on the album cover.

And you lied about seeing
her perform with Daddy's band,

because she never did.

She only recorded with them.

Was she smiling the
night you came here?

This is wrong.
This is dead wrong.

What time is it, Andy?

What time?

When a man is losing weight,

his watch turns around on his wrist
and his ring turns around on his finger.

I should've realized. That lovely
garnet ring of yours, that square-cut gem.

If it was turned to your palm...

It would leave the
impression of a perfect square

on the throat of the
man you strangled.

Henley, you were
just... A boy. 19.

She thought I came
here to make love to her.

Were you angry? That she left
your father for Daddy Coop, Andy?

Oh, yes. She broke
him. She broke his heart.

I came here to beg her
to go back to my father,

and she laughed at me.

Andy, it can't be worth
all this grief, all this death.

Everything will disappear now.

Everything will turn into smoke,

and it'll all be
over and nothing...

Nothing bad's gonna
happen to my father.

Son! I had the
police follow you.

No more, Andy.

It's all over.

Papa, I'm so sorry.

Come on, boy.

There was a time
when I was angry

about having to share
Daddy Coop with the world.

I wanted him to be my
daddy, not everybody's Daddy.

But I finally came to realize just how big
his love was, and how it reached out to me

and to my mother
and to the world.

So now we want to
give something back

to Daddy Coop's
memory, to his music.

And so, it is to Daddy
Coop's love that we, his family

and his friends,
dedicate this museum.