All language subtitles for Murder, She Wrote S08E17 To the Last Will I Grapple with Thee.DVDRip.NonHi.en

Today's her birthday.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I'd be careful around this
one, if I were you, ma'am.

Whoever stands between me
and what's mine is going to get hurt.

We don't need him or his grief.

What the hell is
the matter with you?

What?

It's a matter of life and death.

Charge is homicide.
We got him dead-bang.

It's good riddance
to bad rubbish, I say.

I said stay away!

Stay out of things you don't
understand, Mrs. Fletcher.

For your own good, of course.

By my father's blood,
I swear I'll kill you.

The problem is that
often an investigator

only looks for what
he expects to find.

A detective is
called to a murder.

The wound appears to have
been caused by a knife blade.

So, he looks for a knife,
not stopping to consider

that the knife may have
been used to conceal

the telltale marks
of the real weapon.

And by the time the
coroner's report comes in,

the crime scene has
been contaminated

and the real murder weapon
has been lost or mishandled.

Yes?

What should a detective
look for, in that case?

Everything. That's the point.

Yeah, but you have to be able to
narrow it down somewhere, don't you?

Well, that gets into the area
of instinct and perception.

And you're a fine one to talk
about being perceptive, Jessica!

I could've walked in here riding
an elephant and beating a drum

and you'd have
been none the wiser!

Oh, my!

Happy birthday, Jessica.

Thank you.

Well, don't just stand there.

Come on, blow out the candle.

I only came here for
the cake, you know.

Oh, Sean, come on in.

I hope you didn't mind the little
surprise I cooked up with your students.

Just my way of saying thank you.

Look, Sean, you don't have to...

Oh, yes, I do. When I came
here at the start of the semester,

I had never taught before.

The thought of
facing a classroom...

Frankly, I'd have rather been back
on the streets of Dublin chasing crooks.

You helped me through those
first few weeks and I'm grateful.

Well, I'm glad it worked out.

So am I.

Which is why I'm of a mind to celebrate
my good fortune and your birthday.

Now, tell me you
don't have any plans.

Well, actually, I've
been so busy that...

Done and done!

I'll pick you up at 8:00. There's a
charming place I'd like to show you.

A bit of home in a strange land.

Good food, good music.

Good company,
absolutely the best.

Hello, Sean.

It's been a while
now, hasn't it?

What, not a "hello," then?

Not a "how are you" or a
"what're you doing here?"

Or a wink or a nod? Is that it?

Well, that's all right.

I'll be seeing you later.
You can count on it.

You can count on it.

What a wonderful place.

You know, I never
even knew this was here.

Do you come here a lot?

All the time.

That's right, and we've had more
than a few complaints about it, too.

You're losing your hearing.

That's your watered-down drinks
they were complaining about.

Jessica Fletcher,
this is Patrick MacNair,

the proprietor of
Fenians' Chase.

What a great pleasure.

My pleasure.

Today's her birthday.

Oh, well, in that case, it's
twice an honor to have you.

And the drinks are on the house.

Happy birthday, Jessica.

I take it you two
are great friends.

Since we were boys.

When he lost his club in Dublin, I
helped him come out here and start over.

You never told me what
brought you to the States.

Well, there was a
police exchange program.

Chance to see a new place, learn
American police methods, see new faces.

How could I say no? So, I
came, I saw, I learned, I retired.

Now it's time to pass along
what I know to the next bunch.

Dad!

Jessica, this is my
daughter Kathleen.

Kathleen, Jessica Fletcher.

How very nice to
meet you, Kathleen.

Thanks. My dad talks
about you all the time.

You said you were going to call.

Did you know where to find me?

Yes.

Then what would be
the point of calling?

I give up.

I just wanted to let you know that I'm
going to meet some friends for dinner,

and I'll see you
back at the house.

It was a pleasure
meeting you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, she's a lovely girl, Sean.

Here we go.

Two Tuesday specials,
same as always.

There you are. Enjoy.

Thank you.

Good heavens, I don't
know where to start.

Then just close your eyes, pick
up your fork and hope for the best.

This isn't a good night for
you to be here, O'Connor.

No? And why might that be?

You know full well.

Now why don't you leave
before things get ugly,

as they've a habit of doing
whenever you show up?

Patrick, I'm telling you, I had nothing
to do with that business back in Dublin.

Now, I've come in here
with my nephew for a pint,

and I won't be
leaving until I get one.

Finn Dawley, my
uncle, Michael O'Connor.

Well, Mr. Dawley, let's see if we
can work out our little problem here.

What do you say?

Patrick.

Cullane!

Uh, Sean...

No, no, no. Now,
it's all right, Jessica.

What do you want?

When did you slime your
way across the Atlantic?

Oh, not long ago.

As for what I want, why, you
came and made a life for yourself.

Seemed like a fine
idea for me, too.

This isn't a visit, then?

No. Sold everything
I had, Sean, me boy.

House, land. What little
property I had left, thanks to you.

Cashed it in. Cashed it all in.

Put everything into a joint
account with my nephew Ian here.

You see, we're in the
reconstruction business.

New homes out of old,
just like Aladdin's lamp.

That's why I came by the
school to tell you about it.

I figures you'd be
happy to hear that.

The only thing that'll make me happy is to
see you on the first boat back to Ireland.

Meanwhile, stay out of my way.

Otherwise, I won't be
responsible for the consequences.

I'd be careful around this
one, if I were you, ma'am.

His safety record with women
leaves considerable to be desired.

Sean, I really do think
we should be leaving.

I'm sorry you had
to see that, Jess.

His name is Michael O'Connor.

The genetic cul-de-sac
with him is his nephew, Ian.

I gathered from the discussion
you knew each other in Ireland?

Came from the same
village outside Dublin.

We've been at sixes and
sevens since we were kids.

Fights in the schoolyard,
fights off the schoolyard.

He even vandalized
me old man's store.

By the time I joined
the police department,

he had a record
as long as your arm.

Didn't do much to improve
the relationship, I wouldn't think.

Oh, it was as if the moment
they gave me a badge,

Michael O'Connor had a focus for all
the things that had gone wrong in his life.

And true, over the years, I had to
arrest him for one thing and another.

Then he took his
family business,

they had been in construction
going back five generations,

and used it to scam
pensioners and young folk.

So, I shut him down.

The judge sent him
away for two years.

And he blamed you, of course.

And that's not the worst of it.

When we were young, we both
fell in love with the same woman.

Long story short,
she married me.

He swore he'd break
us up to get even,

but Beth and I stayed
together for 30 years.

When she passed away
five years ago, he blamed me.

It was an accident,
but he'll never see that.

He's obsessed,
he's blind with hatred.

He's trouble, Jess.

And if he ever comes near you,
you're to tell me immediately, all right?

A police detective approaches
his job coolly and logically.

What Balzac called, "Clean
hands and composure."

A crime scene
is a terrible thing.

But you have an
obligation to the victim

not to let your emotions
get the best of you.

Because then you blow
the case and serve no one.

You must study the scene

carefully and logically.

Then, as that great Irish
detective Sherlock Holmes said,

"Once you eliminate
the impossible,

"whatever remains, however
improbable, must be the truth."

I thought Sherlock
Holmes was English.

That's British propaganda.

Well, anyway,

seeing as how you've a
lot of reading ahead of you,

I release you from your
bonds 10 minutes early.

Now, that's chapters
nine and twelve,

and be prepared to discuss
them in detail tomorrow.

Good day.

You just can't walk away, Sean.

It's not that easy, not from me.

What do you want from me?

Oh, just for you to know
that I'm thinking of you.

And that every day,
for the rest of your life,

every time you look
over your shoulder,

I'll be there, waiting
for you to slip up.

And oh, you will, bucko, and that'll
be my chance to even the score.

I'm going to call security.

Well, that won't do
any good, you see,

because I got myself a visitor's
pass, all right and proper.

I told them I wanted to check out the
college for some relatives back home.

I guess I got lost
and wandered in.

Get out!

Patrick, what's this I hear
you've got some fresh scones in?

Sure, and I...

Now, I'll not have
you holding out on me.

Sean, maybe you
ought to come back later.

You're right, it's
not the best time,

what with you having the
place fumigated and all.

Fumigated?

What else in here
could smell that bad?

Cullane.

Saw your daughter Kathleen
as we came in the other night.

She's every bit as
attractive as Ian said.

You know, there's a
lot of her mother in her.

You stay away from my daughter.

Well, I was... I said stay away!

Because if you go near her,

if you so much as talk to her,

by my father's blood,
I swear I'll kill you.

Excuse me, are you Sean Cullane?

Yes, is there a problem?

We need to speak to you
about a Mr. Michael O'Connor.

If there's someplace
we could go.

Of course, this way.

So, what's he
gotten into this time?

Then you admit knowing
Michael O'Connor?

Of course. He's been a
thorn in my side for years.

One I'd give almost anything to
be rid of, I don't mind telling you.

But I knew he'd make a
mistake sooner or later.

So, what's he charged with?

Nothing.

I don't understand.

Mr. Cullane, Michael
O'Connor came in this morning

to swear out a criminal
complaint against you.

He said you threatened
his life last night.

I... Oh, that's absurd.

Apparently there were witnesses.

Do you want to
reconsider your answer?

All right, look, we argued
and I got a little hot, that's all.

You'll excuse me, sir,
but given what you said

when I mentioned
Mr. O'Connor's name,

it sounds like this
runs a little deeper.

No, this is ridiculous.

Well, I hope so, Mr. Cullane.

And I hope this
is the end of it.

Meanwhile, I suggest you
exercise a little discretion

if you happen to run
into Mr. O'Connor.

That'll save both
of us a lot of trouble.

Thank you for your time.

Sean?

Jess. I take it you heard?

Enough that I was
able to fill in the gaps.

All the things he's done, and
he files charges against me.

Every time I think about it, I feel
like my heart's going to explode.

Which is only complicated by too
much coffee and not enough food.

Knowing you, you probably
haven't eaten a thing all day.

Let's just say that cafeteria food is
a little beyond my tolerance just now.

Well, then, let me repay you
for the dinner the other night.

I've got a perfectly
good roasting chicken

sitting in my fridge,
waiting to be cooked.

No, I'm not sure
I'll be fit company.

I'll survive.

And I'll expect
you around seven.

Jess.

Thank you.

Uncle Mike, there you are. I was
wondering what was taking you so long.

Look, I think we've got a
problem with the drywall out back.

A lot of it's broken. I think...

What the hell is
the matter with you?

What?

I went by the post
office to pick up the mail

and I found this bank statement.

Ten thousand dollars
in one month, Ian?

Now, I know it didn't
go into supplies.

That leaves just one option.

What in God's name do
you think you're doing?

Finn says he won't wait.

He says he wants his
money now, all of it.

Damn, you can't let
those creeps muscle you!

They'll get it when I've got it.

Look, Unc, I'm telling you,
you don't know what he's like.

Wrong.

He doesn't know what I'm like.

Now, I'll handle this
from here on out.

We had ourselves a nice
little talk the other evening.

And I think that we've come to a
reasonable, a reasonable compromise.

Finn's not reasonable,
and he doesn't compromise.

Look, I didn't cash everything in back
home to watch you squander it away.

When you got in
over your head in debt,

I told you not to go
to that loan shark Finn.

But you wouldn't listen to me.

Well, you'll listen to me now.

You'll not be giving one more
penny to Finn Dawley. Do you hear?

All right. Do you hear?

All right!

Good.

You look like you could
use a man's company.

You're right.

Let me know if you see one.

You haven't changed a bit,
have you? Still stubborn as ever.

That's your problem, you know.
You got too much of your father in you.

You leave my father out of this.

Just making conversation.

All right, fine.

You want to make conversation?
Then, how about this?

Take a message
back to your uncle.

Tell him to leave
my father alone.

Tell him to take his evil,
and his spite, and his money,

and but a one-way
ticket back to Ireland.

We don't need him or his grief.

Next thing you'll be saying is you
don't need me, like you used to.

All right, that'll
be enough of that.

I hear there's a fine
night air out tonight, Ian.

Why don't you go find out?

I like the air in
here just fine.

That's as may be, but at least
outside you'll be able to enjoy it.

That'll be much
harder to do in here,

what with you about to
become unconscious and all.

You know, I remember
when you were a lot more fun.

A lot more fun!

There's bad blood in that family,
Kathleen. No doubt about it.

Something ought to be done.

Aye. And if he doesn't
leave my father alone,

by God, something will be done!

Where's me money, Ian?

I don't... I'm sorry, I
don't have it. I thought...

No, wait, I thought
you talked to my uncle.

I talked to him.

But I made the deal with
you. So, now I'm talking to you.

Where's me money?

I can't get to it. He watches the accounts
like a hawk. There's nothing I can do.

Well, that's too bad, because whoever
stands between me and what's mine

is going to get hurt.

Are we clear on this, Ian lad?

All right.

I appreciate the dinner, Jess.

At times like this, you know,

there's part of me that just wants
to sit alone in the dark and burn.

I'm glad now I
didn't. Thank you.

You sound like a man who's
made up his mind about something.

When Michael O'Connor walked in
like that, he threw me off my game,

which is exactly what he wanted.

But I've been dealing with him for years,
and I can do it here as well as back home.

I won't let him ruin
what I've built up here.

I know what needs to be done,
now it's just a question of doing it.

And that is?

A topic best left
for another day.

Meanwhile, thanks again
for the excellent dinner.

I've some things to do, so
I'll see you at the campus.

Things this late?

Aye, and if I don't get them done
and home early, Kathleen will kill me.

You think I've got a temper? You
should see her when she gets wound up.

She's deadly, and no mistake.

Well, all right. I'll see you
tomorrow and take care, Sean.

Aye, I will. Good night, Jess.

Good night.

You sure this is
the right address?

Yeah.

It's the address
dispatch gave me.

Gunshot report, 11:45.

Okay, tell the coroner he can
roll the body any time he wants.

Lieutenant, we've got the
victim's nephew in the other room.

Pretty upset.

Yeah?

Keep him there. If he's distraught, he
might get crazy and disturb the evidence.

Who knows, he might
wanna disturb the evidence.

Be right there.

So, Lieutenant, how do
you want me to write this up?

Murder. No question.

The victim was killed by a
single gunshot wound to the head.

We found one spent
cartridge, but no gun.

That rules out suicide.

The wound was up
close and personal.

That rules out an accidental
shooting from across the room.

There's nothing here to
steal, that rules out robbery.

No signs of a struggle
or forced entry,

which means the gone goose was
probably killed by someone he knew.

Where's the nephew?

He's right in here, sir.

Sir, I understand you
were related to the victim?

That's right.

God, I can't believe it.

How could this happen?

I was about to ask
you the same question.

Can you think of anyone who
would've wanted to hurt your uncle?

So, I hear you used
to be a cop in Ireland.

That's right. I
retired last year.

Yeah, I'm thinking of
hanging it up myself.

Taking the plaques and certificates
and my gun and checking out.

You take your gun
with you when you quit?

Yes, but what's
this got to do...

What'd they give you, a .38?

Nine millimeter. Anything else?

Yeah.

What were you doing at Michael
O'Connor's house last night?

I told you, I wasn't
anywhere near the place.

I left Jessica Fletcher's a little
after 10:00 to run some errands.

But every store you said
you checked was closed.

That's quite a coincidence,
wouldn't you say?

Look, I didn't do it.

No?

According to our files, you
threatened to kill O'Connor

less than 24 hours
before he was found dead.

That's got to be the
quickest anyone's gotten

his wish since Moses
parted the Red Sea.

Look, I wasn't there last
night. I've never been there.

Then what were your
fingerprints doing at the scene?

I don't know.

They were there
because you were there.

That's a damnable lie.

Well, how did they
get there? Magic?

Maybe that would explain the nine
millimeter slug we dug out of the deceased.

What do you think?

I think you're bluffing.

If you dug out a
nine millimeter intact,

you'd just do a comparison and we
wouldn't be having this conversation.

Which tells me you've got a
bullet too damaged for comparison.

Meaning you got nothing.

You go on thinking
that, Cullane.

Maybe when I come
back with a stenographer,

you'll come up with a
story that'll convince a jury.

Because frankly, pal,

I don't think the one you've
got now is gonna hold up.

I can't believe it. I can't believe
they would arrest Dad for this.

Well, they haven't
arrested him yet.

They've just brought
him in for questioning.

But they wouldn't do that unless
they thought he was involved, right?

Well, I know the detective
who is investigating

the case, and he's
tough, but he's fair.

I'm sure he'll realize
he's made a big mistake.

Maybe.

Me, I don't believe
it, not for a minute.

It's good riddance
to bad rubbish, I say.

But Sean's not the type.

Then who is?

Well, I've been thinking
about that, I have.

And there's this fellow
name of Finn Dawley

that I've seen hanging
about with Michael and Ian.

Loan shark, he is.
Dangerous man.

Everybody knows Ian
was in deep with Finn.

Michael was trying
to get him to back off.

Now, my guess is he tried
to muscle the wrong man.

Finn Dawley?

Aye. Big fellow, red hair. Comes
in here a lot. You can't miss him.

I think he does half his
business right at that table.

What about Ian?

What, that little weasel? He
doesn't have the nerve by half.

Oh, I don't know.

Dad said Michael sold off
everything he owned back home

and put it into a
joint account with Ian.

With Michael out of the way, he could
have complete control of the money.

But I don't understand.

You said that Michael sold off
everything that he owned back in Ireland?

Doesn't that seem
rather curious?

I mean, surely, he would
have kept something

behind in case he'd
ever wanted to go back.

No, no, no, not
Michael O'Connor.

People like him never look
more than one day ahead.

No, perhaps you're right.

Well, we better be getting
over to the police station.

Your father may
be finished by now.

Oh, right. I'll get my coat.

Okay.

Patrick, I wonder if I
could ask you a favor.

You and Sean and Michael all came
from the same part of Ireland, didn't you?

That's right. Why?

I was wondering if you
could make a phone call

to any of your old friends or
members of the family back home,

find out what you can
about Michael O'Connor.

When he left, why
he left, anything at all.

Perhaps what killed him here

was started there.

Sure thing. I'd
be happy to do it.

Thanks.

All right, I'm set.

Good.

Kathleen, just one thing.

Just now, when Patrick
learned that Michael was dead,

he seemed almost
pleased by the news.

Can't say as I blame him.

Oh, didn't Dad tell you?

Patrick had a club just
like this back in Dublin.

It burned down a
couple of years ago,

the day after he threw Michael out
once and for all for starting trouble.

Now, they never proved anything,

but it's quite a coincidence.

Ahmed?

I'm afraid he's not here.

Someone told him there's a
late delivery coming in out back.

Finn Dawley, I assume.

I've a little message
for you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Stay out of this business
with the O'Connor folk.

It's none of your
concern. Lay off.

I see.

You wouldn't have any special reason
for wanting me to drop this, would you?

My reasons are my own.

And you should look for the source
of your problem closer to home.

Or didn't you catch that little
lovers' spat the other night

between Ian and Kathleen?

Lovers' spat?

Oh, aye.

Back in the old country,
when they were at university,

they had a little
fling together.

I can't believe that.

Not with the nephew of the man
that Sean arrested so many times.

She didn't know.

When she found out, she figured
she'd been used to hurt her father.

And she's been looking for a
way to get even for a long time.

So, you see, there's far
more here than meets the eye.

Stay out of things you don't
understand, Mrs. Fletcher.

For your own good, of course.

Yes, well, you've conveyed
your message, Mr. Dawley.

Now I suggest that you leave.

I just can't understand
your attitude, Lieutenant.

I mean, between my confrontation
with Finn Dawley last night,

and what I've told you about his
nephew's debts and possible motive,

why you're still focusing
in on Sean Cullane

as a prime suspect
is just beyond me.

That's because you don't see
the big picture, Mrs. Fletcher.

You don't have access to all the
evidence we've accumulated so far.

That's because you
won't let me look at it,

which makes it rather
hard to see the big picture.

Mrs. Fletcher, you're the friend of
a suspect in a murder investigation.

You know the regulations.
My hands are tied.

Well, what about the
forensics report on the body?

You can at least
tell me, can't you?

All right, fine.

There's nothing in the autopsy which
contradicts what I observed at the scene.

Death was caused by a
single bullet at close range.

Thank you.

And since there was
no sign of forced entry

and no overt
signs of a struggle,

that just reinforces the idea that the
victim was killed by someone he knew.

Wait. Just back up, please.

You said there were no
overt signs of a struggle.

Whenever there's
a death by violence,

the coroner checks
for defense wounds.

When they checked
O'Connor's hands,

they found traces of
gunpowder residue,

which means he raised them in a
defensive gesture when the gun was fired.

It's a natural reflex.

Well, yes. But isn't
there also the possibility...

Anything's possible.
My experience tells me...

Lieutenant, excuse me. This
tape just came in the mail.

You know, I checked it out, but I
figured you'd better take a look at it.

Who's it from?

Michael O'Connor, the deceased.

Put it on.

I think this is recording.

I think it's recording.

I'm making this tape
because I fear for my life.

I've been told that unless
I leave town for good,

someone is going
to blow my brains out.

Now, if anything
should happen...

Happen to me, I
want it to go on record

that the man responsible
is Sean Cullane.

Stop it.

Damn, I knew I should have gone
ahead and charged him the first time.

Get me the D.A.'s office. I want an
immediate warrant for Sean Cullane.

The charge is homicide.
We got him dead-bang.

Listen to me. This is insane. What's
the matter with you? I didn't do it!

Sean.

Oh, Jessica, talk to them!

I'm trying. I called Kathleen,
she'll be here any time.

But there's something
you should know.

On Michael's hands they found...

Sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, I'm afraid
that's gonna have to be it for now.

Go ahead.

Lieutenant Parnell.

Mrs. Fletcher, wait.

Look, you know I respect your
views, but this is a stone lock.

The word of a dead man is
admissible evidence in court.

We got his fingerprints on the
scene, we got reports of threats,

we got means, motive, opportunity,
and the victim's own words.

Mrs. Fletcher, this isn't
enough to just charge,

this is enough to convict.

What else do you want from me?

I want you to think, Lieutenant.

Look, you're a bright man, but you're
only looking for what you expect to find.

Now, doesn't it seem a little odd
that a former homicide investigator

would leave his fingerprints
all over a murder scene?

Killers make mistakes. If they
didn't, we'd both be out of a job.

All right, look. You think
you've got something, fine.

Go ahead, look at the evidence.

I gotta turn it over to his
defense attorney anyway.

Then give it your best shot.

But after this, you're out
of the loop. Period. Okay?

Agreed. Now, can I start by
seeing that tape over again?

Sure, why not?

I think this is recording.

I think it's recording.

Stop. Stop the tape.
Freeze it, freeze it.

Now, look here.

Now, you see this photo?

Now this photo was taken
after O'Connor was found dead.

Mmm-hmm. Right?

Now, there's a black smear you
see on the edge of this opening here...

Mmm-hmm.

And there's another one
right below it. You see?

Mmm-hmm.

But neither one of them
are here on the tape.

Right.

What does that prove? They
were working on the house.

What this tells us is that
something scraped here

sometime between when
he shot this and the murder.

But, yes, Lieutenant.
That is exactly the point.

Exactly what point?

Wait.

Anything should happen...

Happen to me, I
want it to go on record

that the man responsible
is Sean Cullane.

Yes, yes. All right, Lieutenant.

I have to check
out one other thing.

Could you meet me this evening
at the crime scene around 6:00?

Look, I gave you your chance. You
proved nothing, so you're out of it.

I won't be there.

Yes, you will.

What makes you so sure?

Because you're a good cop,
and you don't like loose ends.

And the thought that I
might've just found one

will make sure
that you're there.

No. Absolutely not!

Patrick.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. I just heard.

Is it true they've
arrested Sean?

Yes. Yes, I'm afraid so.

Did you ever get around to making
that call to Dublin about Michael?

Aye, but there was nothing new.

Nothing that we
didn't already know.

Well, tell me anyway.
Anything at all.

It's very important.
Leave nothing out.

Well, like we heard, Michael
sold everything he had,

lock, stock and barrel, put it
all in a joint account with Ian.

Seems he took less than he
might've gotten if he'd waited,

but he was in a
hurry to get over here.

So he must have
decided to leave quickly.

Good, that fits. Anything else?

Specifically, did anyone
ask about Michael's health?

Well, it's odd that
you'd ask that.

At least half the people I
talked to asked about that.

Seems the local doctor
had been trying to find out

if anybody'd heard
how Michael was doing.

They kind of got the
impression it was important.

Patrick, could you get a
hold of that doctor right now?

Oh, I suppose. Why?

Let's just say it's a
matter of life and death.

This better be good.

Hello, Lieutenant. I'm glad
you changed your mind.

Okay, I'm here.

I may be crazy, but I'm
here. So, what've you got?

Well, if I'm not mistaken, this is the
same room that was in the photograph,

the room where Michael
O'Connor was found dead.

Right. Over by that wall.

Mmm-hmm.

"Mmm-hmm," what?

Well, you see that opening here,

where it appears that they
were going to make a window.

Now, there are dark
scrapes in the wall beneath it,

just like in the photos.
Look for yourself.

I'm looking.

I'm seeing drywall, I'm seeing a
scrape, I'm seeing the opening.

I'm going home.

Wait, please.

Can you please bring
me that ladder over there?

Thank you.

Right about there?

Fine, thank you.

Well, so what do you see?

Nothing.

Good night.

Threads.

Rope threads. Just as I thought.

What the hell are
you doing here?

Doing my job, O'Connor.
Check your paperwork.

Murder scenes are open
to inspection day and night.

Right.

Right.

Except, this wasn't a murder.

Then what was that
body? Tinker Bell?

No. Michael O'Connor is dead,
all right. But he wasn't murdered.

He died at his own hand.

That's rubbish.

You're off base. O'Connor
died of a gunshot wound.

There was no gun
found at the scene,

which means it has to be murder.

Not unless you're
saying he shot himself

and then hid the gun
after he was dead.

That's exactly what I'm
telling you, Lieutenant.

If you want proof, the gun
that killed Michael O'Connor

is inside this wall, directly
beneath that opening.

You'll find that it's attached by a
long rope to an extremely heavy weight.

Mrs. Fletcher...

I don't believe I'm doing this.

I should be home,

reading.

This is stupid.

All right.

There.

You were saying?

Guess it got stuck
just short of the floor.

Well, thank you
for shaking it loose.

Do you mind?

I don't believe it.

That doesn't make any sense.

I'm afraid it makes
perfect sense.

Michael O'Connor blamed
Sean for all of his problems,

and hated him for taking
the woman that he loved.

When Michael left Ireland,
he was in such a hurry

that he sold his property
for a fraction of its value.

Something extraordinary
must have happened

to make him cash in
everything and leave like that.

It's as if he knew he
wouldn't be coming back.

It's the kind of thing you do
when you know you're gonna die.

Close everything out,
put your affairs in order,

make sure the money
goes to your next of kin.

Which hardly fits the picture of
a man who never thought ahead.

But why?

Why would he do all this?

Because he was
already dying, Ian.

This evening, I spoke
to his doctor in Ireland.

A few months ago, Michael was
diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor

and given six months to live.

I noticed when he spoke,
he sometimes stammered,

and he repeated his
words at unnatural intervals,

both indicators of
a possible tumor.

It must have come as a double
blow to know his own life was ending,

just as Sean was beginning
a new life in the United States.

So he decided a quick death was
preferable over a slow and painful one.

And why not take Sean with him?

It would be his final revenge,
to frame Sean for his own death.

Michael went out of his way to
provoke Sean into threatening him

to start a paper
trail with the police.

Taunted him so that Sean
would get his fingerprints

on the card you would later find beside
the body, establishing his presence.

He was carefully building a
body of circumstantial evidence,

knowing that the word of a
dead man is admissible in court.

And of course, the
videotape was the final touch.

What about the gun?

Well, that was
the ingenious part.

But it was also the
part that betrayed him.

He cut into a high wall,
ostensibly for a window,

but mainly to get access to
the hollow space within the wall.

He then slipped a heavy
steel weight into the gap

and attached the other end
of the long rope to the gun,

knowing that as soon
as he released the gun,

it would be yanked
up into the wall.

But when he released the gun,

it was pulled back with enough
force to cause this scrape,

and the rope itself to cut into
the wall at the edge of the opening.

"To the last will I
grapple with thee."

What's that? JESSICA: Melville.

Captain Ahab lashing out at
the great whale, even as he died.

"For hate's sake, I spit
my last breath at thee."

Yes.

Obsession has always extracted
a terrible price, Lieutenant.

A terrible price indeed.

You don't know how
good it feels to be back.

Having been on the
other side of the badge,

I have to tell you, Jessica, it's
not exactly my idea of a good time.

I don't know how we
can ever repay you.

Well, you can't.

Because I didn't do
it as a favor to you,

I did it entirely for myself.

I'm busy enough with writing
and trying to teach my own class.

You think I wanna have to
take on your class as well?

Oh, no. I made sure that I got you
back here as quickly as possible.

You're a glorious liar,
Jess. And thank you.

Well, there's my
class. I'll see you later?

Count on it.

Oh, by the way, Dr. Auerbach tells me
you've got a new student in your class.

Enjoy.

Good afternoon.

Today our topic is going to be

the criminal mind.

Captain said I could use the
extra credits, so, uh, here I am.

All right, let's begin!