All language subtitles for MSW.S11E03.To Kill A Legend

SANDSBY: Those are
my terms, damn it.

I receive half the proceeds
in your little venture

or you pay
the consequences.

And I'm sure you realize
they'd be very severe.

I can't really see that you
bloody well have much choice.

(GROANING)

(SIRENS WAILING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Get up there!
Get up there!

ANNOUNCER: Attention, Joshua
Peabody Day participants,

all those involved
in the battle reenactment,

please report to
the large tent in costume.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher!

Oh, good morning, Scott.

Ready for
the big production?

Yeah, right.
They're all inside.

Great!

This is a documentary, Rick.
Not a rock video.

Look at this room, it
cries for available light.

Amelia, this is
really getting old.

Shoot it my way or I'll find
somebody that will, all right?

Oh, excuse me,
Mr. Hawkes,

but wouldn't you rather have Joshua's
saber here in front, or perhaps his...

Mrs. Peabody.
Mrs. Peabody.

I placed this here because that's
where I want it for the shot.

Okay. Thanks.

Louise, Louise, your mother
is driving me around the bend.

I can't believe it. You know, it's
past 10:00. We haven't shot a frame.

Don't look at me. I've
been ready since 7:00.

Robert, when are you gonna
start behaving like a producer?

Come on, babe.

The suits in Boston think
Hawkes is some kind of god.

And getting rid of him,
it's not that easy.

Yeah? Well, I can think of a few ways.

(SCOFFS)

No, no, no, you don't need any
makeup. You're fine. You're fine.

And, Edith, again, suggesting that Mrs.
Fletcher do the narration was inspired.

I hope you haven't been too
busy to learn your lines.

No problem.

I like the way you write,
by the way. Very much.

Oh, thank you.

I did notice a couple of details,
though, that weren't quite accurate.

So I took the liberty
of correcting them,

with your approval,
of course.

Yes. Okay. Okay. You're
right here, Mrs. Fletcher.

Yes.
Right. Oh, and thank you.

No matter how thoroughly
you research these things,

you always seem to miss
something, you know.

Okay, folks, let's see if we
can make this happen, all right?

Amelia?
Still ready.

Okay, here we go.
Roll sound.

MAN: Quiet, please. Quiet.

Speed.

Camera rolling.

Scene four, take one.
Mark.

And, Mrs. Fletcher.

Before the
American Revolution,

Joshua Peabody was known as
Maine's finest clock-maker.

But when he read of the music boxes
the Swiss were beginning to fashion,

he became fascinated with the
design of such instruments.

Ultimately,
he constructed

some of the finest, most
innovative music boxes of the...

All right, cut! Cut.

(INDISTINCT MURMURING)

I'm sorry,
did I goof?

No, no, no, no,
you were fine.

It just hit me that we've got to end this
sequence with you turning this thing on.

It'll give us a dynamite
transition sequence here.

JESSICA: I see.

(STAMMERING) Mr. Hawkes, I
don't think it's ever worked.

At least
not in my lifetime.

Rick, forget the
damn music box, okay?

We can't afford
to lose the time.

Look, if there's anyone who can get
this thing to work, it'd be Tom Godfrey.

I'd be glad to take it to him
during your lunch break.

Even better. All right, we'll
shoot you pretending to turn it on.

And then we'll dub the music
in later. All right. Here we go.

All right.

TOM: I'll take a shot
at this, sure.

Might help me
get into character.

I'm playing a major
in our reenactment.

You know, this might be the
start of a whole new career.

I just hope it gives some kind
of boost to the tourist trade.

Muggy summer we've had here,
everybody in town's hurting.

Now this is not the one
I wore last year.

That one
fit me just fine.

Dr. Hazlitt, it is the
same uniform, I swear.

Well, then you must have done
something to the darn thing.

Nancy, didn't you
mention to me

that some of those costumes got soaked
when the roof leaked last winter?

Well, you know,
as a matter of fact...

And I think that
this was one of them.

(CHUCKLES) You think?
Isn't it obvious?

Thank you, Jessica.

Jessica, come here.

I was gonna call you
and let you know

that your chest of drawers
finally arrived from Vermont.

You know, I'd almost given
up. Oh, it's lovely, Nancy!

But it seems to me that these
drawer pulls are mismatched.

Oh, no!

I can't imagine
how I missed that!

You know, I probably looked
at this piece for 20 minutes.

I'm so sorry. I'm gonna
call Burlington right now

and I'm gonna order
the replacements.

No problem.

Jessica! I think I found the problem.

This was jamming
the mechanism.

Oh. It's dated
September 12th, 1780.

"To Major Joshua Peabody.

"Your cowardly request to surrender
Cabot Cove is categorically refused.

"You are to stand and fight or
face court martial as a traitor.

"I am investigating reports that you
have accepted payments from the enemy."

It's signed,
George Washington.

Traitor? Joshua Peabody?

Another hero
shot down in flames.

Well, the way the world's
going, it doesn't surprise me.

(SIGHING)

EDITH:
But everybody knows

that Joshua Peabody was killed
by the redcoats' final volley

just before the British
turned and ran.

He won the battle
of Cabot Cove.

Can't you see?
It's an obvious hoax.

Jessica, we should
destroy that letter.

Edie, if the letter is a hoax, it's
evidence. And if it's genuine...

Jessica's right, Mom.

My God! You're as bad as
those people you work for.

Ready to throw away
something precious

just for its
exploitation value.

Jess, we'd best
get started.

Blakely said he'd see us at 1:00, sharp.

Seth, talk some sense
into Jessica.

And let me
burn that letter.

Edie, you know I can't be
party to something like that.

The only reasonable course is
to let Dr. Blakely examine it.

The university lab
has all the equipment,

and we'll find out once and for
all whether or not it's real.

And if it is, we'll just
have to accept the fact

that the people around here
have been deluding themselves

about their icon
for over 200 years.

NANCY: There's no need to get ugly.

You'll be paid,
just like always.

Now, will you please send
the drawer pulls today?

All right, COD.

(SIGHING)

I can't believe you
screwed up like that.

We're this close
to Chapter 11.

You don't seem to give a damn about
taking care of our best customer.

And whose idea was it

to sink all of our ready cash into
advertising for the Joshua Peabody Day?

Which looks like it's
gonna lay a huge egg.

If we are about to go down,
it is not my fault.

(DOOR CLOSING)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Sorry to trouble you.

Just wondered if you might have
any early Dutch-American pieces.

Not at the moment, no.

Is there anything in
particular you were looking for?

Nothing special. Pity.

(DOOR CLOSING)

I have to tell you, Jessica,
based solely on observation,

this signature is either George
Washington's or a world-class forgery.

The text seems plausible,
too, Dr. Blakely.

If I remember
my history correctly,

the fall and winter of 1780 were
rough times for the Continental Army.

I mean, defeats in the south, Benedict
Arnold, all that sort of thing.

And according to this,

a lot of people were having
second thoughts at the end of 1780.

Maybe Joshua Peabody
was one of them.

I don't even wanna think about what
this is gonna do to tourism around here.

What doesn't make sense is that
if he were paid to lose the battle,

how come our side won?

And if Peabody did make
a deal with the British,

why would he hang onto
such an incriminating document

and keep it hidden
in a music box?

Well, that bothers
me, too, Mort.

But, you know, it's possible that
Joshua was trying to cover himself.

I mean, maybe he figured that if the
British had gone on to win the war

the letter could
give him an excuse

for his failure to honor their
deal at the Battle of Cabot Cove.

Oh, right.

On the other hand,
if this is a hoax

why would anyone
go to all this trouble?

I mean, what could they
possibly hope to gain from it?

Well, this is all
idle speculation

till we get the results of the groundwood
and aqueous tests on the paper and ink.

They should pretty well confirm or
deny the accuracy of the documents.

I'll be in touch.

(PHONE RINGING)

Sheriff's office, Metzger.

MAN: Hi, Sheriff. You got
any word on that paper yet?

No, Ezra, there is
no definite word.

Yes.

Yes, we'll make sure that
everyone is notified. Okay, bye.

Ezra down at the
Lighthouse Motel.

We have got one frightened bunch
of business people on our hands.

Oh, I don't
believe you, Hawkes.

A historical scandal drops right into
our laps and you want to ignore it?

I mean, the attention that this could draw
to all of us the minute we go public...

Money in the bank.

I told you, not a word
until it's authenticated.

It's my reputation
that's on the line here.

Oh, for God's sake,
give it up, will you?

We're documentary filmmakers,
we deal in actuality, remember?

What the hell's that
supposed to mean?

It means that
whatever we get on film

tells us what kind of movie
it wants to be.

So we started out doing a story
about the Battle of Cabot Cove.

Well, guess what? That old
piece of paper is the story.

Whether or not we like it
and whether or not it's real.

That, and a town that might just fall
apart and we're in the middle of it.

That, my boy,
is the stuff of dreams!

The stuff that network
careers are built on.

Okay, let me remind
both of you,

I am the director,
all right?

And until that changes, I make
the decisions in this outfit.

And right now I've decided to
take my assistant to dinner.

I'll see you at the
reenactment tomorrow.

Oh, look at
the bright side, Scott,

I'm sure he'll give you
his leftovers.

Once he's through
with her.

Amelia, mind your
own damn business.

Oh, cool it, Scott. The
lady's only speaking the truth.

Thanks for helping me
try to change Rick's mind.

That's the least
of your worries.

I've been going over
the production reports.

One day into this thing, and he's
already three days behind schedule.

This rate, he's gonna go
60, 70% over budget.

I never wanted him.

But the brass couldn't wait to
hire the Emmy-winning filmmaker.

Hawkes won that Emmy
eight years ago.

This is the first significant
gig he's had in a very long time.

Tell me something new.

Well, I don't know what
they do at your station,

but any place else, producer
lets a director run wild,

producer's the one
who takes the fall.

METZGER: Yes. WOMAN ON
PHONE: George Washington?

Yes, a letter has been
found. Well, is it real?

And, no, I can't confirm its
contents or its authenticity.

Not at this time.
Thank you very much.

That was the
Boothbay Harbor Gazette.

Oh, dear. Next it'll be
the Boston papers,

then New York
and then the TV networks.

Well, I don't know how this news got
out, but it sure is spreading fast.

All the more reason
you need to find out

who broke into the Peabody
House and planted that letter.

Look, Edith, I was just
about to mention that.

We checked all the doors
and all the windows.

And I'm afraid there was
no sign of any forced entry.

Now, look, does anyone else
besides you have a key?

A cleaning service,
a bookkeeper?

You're talking to the cleaning
service and the bookkeeper.

Oh!

Mort, you know how Harold
loved that old house.

And I promised my husband

I would always look after the
family name and the family home.

Edie, we just dropped by your place

and Louise told us
that you were here.

You've heard from
Professor Blakely.

Yes. Yes, we have.

And the university lab have
confirmed that the ink in the letter

is chemically identical to ink that was
commonly used in revolutionary times.

They've also ascertained that the
paper itself is over 200 years old.

No.

No, that can't
be true!

And then there are the stains
on the letter. They're whale oil.

Which was used back then
to lubricate machinery,

such as music boxes.

Edie, I'm afraid
the bottom line is

that there is no way to prove
that the letter isn't real.

So, it looks as
if they'll have to

rewrite the history of Joshua
Peabody and the Battle of Cabot Cove.

Damn you, Jessica!

If you'd let me burn that
rotten letter, like it deserved,

none of this
would be happening.

Now everything's ruined.

The Peabody name, the town's
reputation, the tourist business!

It's all
on your shoulders!

(DOG BARKING)

(EDITH SHOOING)

Scoot! All of you! You should
be ashamed of yourselves!

All right, folks. Let's
break it up here, all right?

There's nothing to see.
It's just some kid's prank.

Better yet, why don't we
just clear out the area?

The battle reenactment's
coming up, all right.

Thank you
very much.

Edith, you wanna come down,
please? Let me do that for you.

Oh, Mort!

Where have you been? How
could you let this happen?

We're working pretty
short-handed, Edith.

Everybody's over at Oak Street
handling traffic control.

Traffic control? That would be easy
to believe if there were more tourists.

MAN: How about a picture, Mrs. Peabody?

Come on. Let me buy
you a nice cold drink.

Oh, stop that! Stop
that! Get out of here.

Cabot Cove, this classic
New England fishing village,

picturesque, tucked into our
rugged Atlantic coastline,

as American
as the Fourth of July,

has been shaken to its very
cultural and historical roots

with the dramatic discovery

that its most famous patriot was
actually in league with the British.

Well, now, with me now is local
antique dealer, Nancy Godfrey.

Nancy, how is this affecting your annual
celebration of the Battle of Cabot Cove?

Well, as you can see...

(INAUDIBLE)

Would you excuse me
for one minute?

Nancy, just...

Rick and I
have been talking,

and there are some real
problems with the uniforms.

I've got our notes
right here and...

I will talk
to Rick myself.

And I would appreciate it if you
would keep out from underfoot.

Hut, two, three...

SETH: Jessica, I think
you've got to let it go.

The document is genuine,
and that's that.

I don't know.

I mean, supposing Richard Hawkes
hadn't decided to use the music box.

Well, then we might have had to
wait another 200 years to find it.

Mrs. Fletcher, as Cabot Cove's
most prominent living citizen,

what do you think about the
appearance of this mysterious letter?

Well, I think that the jury is
still out on its authenticity.

Really? Can you elaborate?

Well, I can't right now,
I'm afraid.

We have a reenactment
to wage.

And as you approach the bandstand,
I want you to veer to the left.

Excuse me, Mr. Hawkes.
We've done this for years

and we have never charged the bandstand.

Tom is right.

It's past the oak tree, then
down toward the waterfront,

that's how
the battle was fought.

TOM: Exactly.

No! That was later.
According to my research...

What difference does it make?
Just shoot the damn thing!

Get the hell
off my set.

Your set? What about
our reenactment?

JESSICA: Richard, Seth...

Richard, isn't it true that if
you photograph them in close-up,

the direction that they're
moving won't be all that critical?

Then once they've passed the
bandstand and turned, we can go wider.

Yeah, yeah, that'll work.

Suppose we could
live with that.

HAWKES: All right. Done.

Amelia, keep the shot
tight, please.

Okay, everybody, this
is picture! Let's go!

That's twice you've bailed
me out. Thank you. I owe you.

Quiet please! Rolling!

Speed!

Scene 16,
take one, mark.

And action!

Beat! Assembly!

Whoa!

WOMAN 1:
Somebody grab that horse!

WOMAN 2:
Are you all right?

Scott, are you okay?

Yeah.

If I'd have known all it
took to get your attention

was almost getting kicked
in the head by a horse,

I'd arranged it
a long time ago.

MAN: Everybody okay?

Jessica, I keep forgetting
to give you this release form.

Oh, that's all right.

I understand my mom was
pretty hostile last night.

I'm sorry.

Oh, it's quite
understandable.

Louise. Hi, Mrs. Fletcher. Excuse me.

Can we get this done
today, please?

Yeah.

MAN: Nobody hurt,
everything's fine.

All right, let's get everybody
back to their start marks.

We'll take it again.

Dr. Hazlitt, officers in the Continental
Army didn't carry powder horns.

Let's ask the property master
to get you a sword, all right?

Whatever
keeps you happy.

Mrs. F, I did
like you suggested.

I faxed Interpol and NCIC,

you know, for information
about world-class forgers.

So far, nothing.

HAWKES: Okay, folks, please.
Let's go. Let's get this done!

Rolling!

Speed.

Scene 16, take two.
Mark.

And...
Settle down, please!

And action!

Beat! Assembly!

Lieutenant, take charge.

LIEUTENANT:
To the front!

March!

Back line, march!

Poise! Firelock!

Cock firelock!

Take aim!

Fire!

Terrific.
Half-cock!

Firelock!
Cut!

Cut!

What are you doing?

We are reloading
our muskets.

You didn't do that
in rehearsal.

That's because you wouldn't let
them fire them during rehearsal!

You see, there are 13 steps
in reloading a musket.

First, you put
the hammer back,

then you handle the
cartridge, put the powder...

Folks, now wait, wait. We're
not shooting a mini-series here.

We don't have time to film
13 different steps!

We do this every year. If
you had had the courtesy...

That's it! I can't work
like that! That's a wrap!

What're you talking about? We've
still got three hours of daylight left!

MAN: What's
with the temper?

He can't work this way?
What about the rest of us?

Careful where you point
that uniform, Admiral.

Those buttons
could be lethal.

Buttons may not be
all that I pop!

You know, I hired you
with the understanding

you could keep the local bumpkins
in line and assure their cooperation.

I'm sorry.

Well, sorry
doesn't cut it, kiddo.

Hey! Just the man
I want to see.

We have to go over
tomorrow's shot list.

Oh, forget it.

I just spent two very tough
hours on the phone to Boston.

I've gotta tell you,
you had those folks fooled.

Had...

What are you saying?

What I'm saying, buddy boy, is
I gave them a dose of reality

and it finally
broke their fever.

You're off the project.

As of now, Amelia Farnum
is directing this film.

(CHUCKLING) Amelia?

What's she
ever directed?

Oh! This was her little
plot all along, wasn't it?

Oh, trust me, Ricko,
you torpedoed yourself.

Bob, you can't do this.

I can.

And I have.

SOLDIER: Company, march!

Hut, two, three, four. Hut, two,
three, four. Hut, two, three, four.

SCOTT: Amelia should be back
in a few minutes, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thanks a lot.
Appreciate it.

She was anxious for me to
sync up yesterday's footage

so she can see what
needs to be re-shot.

Well, I think
I'd better wait.

Her phone message said that she
had some changes in my narration.

Well, no matter
what Louise says,

Amelia's gotta be a
better choice than Hawkes.

Louise took his firing
so hard, she quit.

I heard.

Ah! You use double system, don't you?

You know something
about film, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I only have a reading
acquaintance, you understand,

but I do
a lot of research.

But this is the first time
I've ever seen it firsthand.

It isn't all that
complicated, really.

It just means that when
we shoot the picture,

the sound is recorded on this
quarter-inch tape instead of on the film.

Then we have the sound that's on
the tape copied onto this stuff.

It's mag-track. It's film
that's coated with iron oxide.

So when you run it
under a sound head

it reads the sound
just like a tape recorder.

LOUISE: Quiet please. Rolling.
Scene 16, take one. Mark.

(CLAPSTICK HITS)

Now, I find the picture where the
clapstick hits and line them up,

and sound and picture are
in sync with each other.

And real soon, I hope.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.
JESSICA: Hi.

Now that we know that
the letter is authentic,

I've just made a few
changes in your script.

Yes. Of course.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Jessica, I hope you don't mind
my just dropping by like this,

but do you
have a minute?

Oh, of course I do.
Please, come in.

I had no business blowing
up at you the way I did.

I wish I could just
take back what I said.

Listen, it's forgotten.

It's hard to adjust.

It seems like all my life
I've been keeper of the flame.

And now just to admit
it was all a waste.

It may not be, Edith.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Mrs. F, Edith.

Mort.

Please come in.
Any news?

Yes. But not what you're
looking for, I'm afraid.

I just heard
from Dr. Blakely.

He said he tried
to call you earlier.

He wanted you to know
that he's traced that paper.

It seems it was manufactured
over 200 years ago in Virginia

by Kelso and Sons
of Williamsburg

and George Washington is known to have
used that same paper for other documents.

Not a waste?

(SIGHING)

SETH: It was a rough day
in show business.

That new director,
Amelia what's her name?

Farnum.
Whatever.

She's worse than the
fellow she's replacing.

She expected me to make
that charge at a dead run.

Well, you are playing Major
Prentice, and he did lead the charge.

Yes, but he only had
to make it once.

I had to do it seven times before
Frau director Farnum was satisfied.

Well, maybe that's because Major Prentice
had to get it right the first time.

How about some coffee,
get your mind off things?

According to that, the mercury
stands comfortably above 80.

I think a hot cup of coffee is the last
thing in the world I need, thank you.

Jessica, when you
get back to Earth,

would you like to tell us
where you've been?

Thermometer.

Maybe that's one test
that Dr. Blakely overlooked.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

AND Y: Sheriff, there's been a
fire at the movie company's office.

I'm on my way.
That was Andy.

There's a fire over at
the movie company's office.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

Thank you.

Well, looks like
it was arson, Mrs. F.

Somebody poured some kind of
solvent all over the floor.

Good heavens.

Sheriff, I think you
better take a look at this.

METZGER: It's Amelia Farnum.

(SIREN WAILING)

Those calls, that's from the
head man at the station in Boston.

I guess he and Amelia
were playing phone-tag.

The coroner will have to make
final determination, of course,

but I'd say that Miss Farnum hasn't
been dead more than an hour or so.

Apparently, killed
by a blow to the head.

Well, the position of
the wound would indicate

that the killer was standing directly
in front of her when it happened.

Any thoughts
on the murder weapon?

Something heavy,
you can bet on that.

I don't know if it
means anything, Sheriff,

but the property master told me he's
missing an antique flintlock pistol.

You know, I noticed a tiny cut
on the inside of her left thumb.

She could've got that
from handling the film.

I get them all the time
if I don't wear gloves.

Oh.

Oh, thank God our picture
and mag-track are still here.

Let me get this
straight, Scott.

You were over in your motel room. Alone.

You heard the fire trucks
and came right over here?

I can see this place
from my room.

And what about Louise
and Bob Kendall?

Did you see them
at the motel?

No, I haven't seen either
one of them all evening.

How about Hawkes?

Not since yesterday.
When Kendall fired him.

ANNOUNCER: Attention,
ladies and gentlemen,

our shuttle service
to Oak Street

will begin departing on
the hour every 15 minutes.

Pardon me, Mr. Hawkes,
I think we should talk.

My name is Paul Tavener.

Excuse me,
Mr. Tavener,

I don't want to be rude, but
I've been up most of the night,

and I desperately need
some sleep. Thanks.

I just thought you might
be interested to know

I've finally put together
the last piece of a puzzle

that started with
Sandsby and Son in London

and ultimately led
me here to Cabot Cove.

I don't know what the hell
you're talking about.

What I'm talking about
is a clever little game

wherein you turn a dull, low-budget
film about a small-town celebration

into a historical
detective story.

Who bribed Joshua Peabody,
and for how much?

What did
George Washington know?

When did he know it?

You're crazy, pal.

Mr. Hawkes, your career is about
to blast off like a space shuttle.

And one way or the other,
I am going to be aboard.

Look, in case you haven't heard,
it's not my documentary anymore.

I've been fired.

With your replacement so
inconveniently turning up dead,

who else can they turn to
to finish the project?

We'll talk more about it
later, Mr. Hawkes. Cheerio.

Oh, these drawer pulls are perfect.

Thanks for taking care
of it so promptly for me.

No problem.

You know, we're not exactly
up to our ears in customers,

what with this
Joshua Peabody thing.

Oh, it's pretty bad.

I mean, I was talking to Bill
Mahaffey over at Hill House,

and he said that people were
canceling their reservations.

Yeah. We're considering
closing up the shop

and moving the whole
operation to Bar Harbor.

Oh, dear.

Come on, Nancy. Now everybody's
got better things to do

than hang around here
and bellyache.

Sorry about
the mix-up, Jess.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello? Oh, Dr. Blakely.

Is this a bad time?

No. This is a good time.

MAN: I've got confirmation of
what you have been asking about.

You did?

Wait. I want to
write this down.

HAWKES: Look, what happened
to Amelia is a tragedy.

But like it or not,
we gotta get back to work.

And we got a lot to do, considering
we'll be making a major course correction.

From now on the focus of this
film will be the Washington letter.

Richard, no.

Now, now, I've done a lot
of soul-searching about this,

and like it or not,
Amelia was right.

The letter is the story.

Especially now that
it's been authenticated.

But it hasn't been
authenticated, Richard.

Excuse me, Jessica?

Look, it's a very,
very clever forgery.

And one which might
have gone undetected,

if the forger hadn't
overlooked something

that was virtually
nonexistent in 1780.

Industrial pollution of the
oceans. Mercury, to be precise.

Seth reminded me of it last night when
he looked at my kitchen thermometer.

And I asked Dr. Blakely to run
one more test on the whale oil.

And unlike the residue
in the music box mechanism,

he found that
the stains on the paper

contained trace
amounts of mercury

that didn't exist in the
oceans until quite recently.

Whoever created that letter thought
everything through very carefully.

The ink, the paper, but they
couldn't get their hands on whale oil

that didn't contain
modern pollutants.

But who would do something
like that? And why?

Wait a minute!
It was you, wasn't it?

You suddenly get this convenient
inspiration to use the music box,

because you knew
the damn thing was in there.

Whoa, Mr. Kendall, that could've
been planted by almost anybody.

And maybe Mr. Hawkes just happened
to cause it to be discovered

before the perpetrator
actually intended.

Plus, we don't even know

if the forgery had anything to
do with Miss Farnum's murder,

which is my number
one priority right now.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?
Sheriff, it's Andy.

Yeah, Andy.
What have you got?

I tracked down that English
fellow Mrs. Fletcher mentioned.

You want me to haul
him down to the office?

HAWKES: Louise!

Are you paying
attention here?

I said Scene three.
Apple. Apple. Right there.

I'm sorry.

Rick, I don't understand.

You're back on the job,

we're making the film that
you started out to make...

What is it?
Nothing. Nothing.

I'm tired, all right? This whole
thing has been a little stressful.

Last night you said
you were going to call.

I waited up
till way after midnight.

Louise.

Look, I don't want you to get
your hopes up about us, okay?

That isn't the message I've been
getting. Not in Boston, not here.

I can't deal with this
right now, all right?

Are you seeing
somebody else?

Damn it, I said I don't
wanna talk about it.

LOUISE: Rick, all I...
HAWKES: No!

God, you know, you got a lot
to learn about this business.

Starting with when to
keep your mouth shut!

(CLANGING)

(DOOR CLOSING)

Hey, don't let him bug
you, huh? He's a big jerk.

This just came in from
Scotland Yard, Mr. Tavener.

It identifies you as
one Jeffrey Caldwell,

a, quote, "world-class
forger," unquote.

Wanted for questioning in the London
murder of one of your associates,

a guy named Alexander
Sandsby, who Interpol describes

as your basic trafficker of phony
manuscripts, documents, etcetera.

I have never killed anyone, Sheriff.

Not Sandsby and certainly
not your Miss Farnum.

But you did forge the
George Washington letter?

Sandsby hired me.

And it was a job to be
proud of, if I may say so.

He had a contact
in Virginia,

where there'd been a find, a
quantity of really old paper.

Now, according to Dr. Blakely,
some of it turns up every few years.

Usually in attics
and old storerooms.

So who was Sandsby's client?
Who hired him?

Sandsby was always quite
discrete about such things.

But when the old boy
turned up murdered,

it occurred to me, that for once,
the stakes might be high enough

to warrant
further investigation.

Which led you
to Cabot Cove.

And, Io and behold, here were
these people shooting this movie.

And suddenly my handiwork
is discovered.

When Amelia Farnum
appropriated Hawkes's job,

I assumed she was the
mastermind behind the plot.

So last night I went to
the production office

to discuss it with her.

Wait a second. You're saying you
were in the production office?

That's what I'm trying
to tell you, Sheriff.

That's when I saw
Miss Farnum's killer.

EDITH: Yes, I was at the
production office last night.

I thought I could talk Amelia out of
using the George Washington letter.

Did you have
any luck?

Unfortunately, no. I begged
her. I even tried to bribe her.

She said the film would
do more for her future

than any amount of money
I could come up with.

I was almost beside myself
with anger.

I just left.

Excuse me, Sheriff, I found this
under the seat of Mrs. Peabody's car.

Property master says it's
the one that was missing.

And it appears to have
bloodstains on it.

I don't understand.

I don't know
how that got in my car.

Mort, I didn't kill her.

I'm sorry, Edith.
I have no other choice.

Until we get a forensics
report back on that thing,

I'm gonna have to hold you
on suspicion of murder.

METZGER: The state police lab
has confirmed it, Mrs. F.

They've positively ID'd the
blood. It was Amelia Farnum's.

And the antique pistol
was the murder weapon.

But I don't see anything
here about fingerprints.

Well, maybe Edith
just wiped it clean

or wore one of those gloves
the film editors wear.

Oh, yes, of course.

And then left the gun in her
car so that Andy could find it?

Jess, you must admit,
past few days

Edith Peabody hasn't exactly been your
shining example of a rational person.

I know that. But...

What did Scott call it?

The mag-track.

You know, last night when I saw the
two reels with sound and picture,

they were both cut
to the same length,

which means that a lot of
it must've been missing.

Hey, you wanna let us
in on it? A lot of what?

Sound, Sheriff.

And I think I know why.

(WHIRRING)

But Mrs. F, what's this got to
do with Amelia Farnum's murder?

Proof that Edith Peabody
didn't do it, I hope.

Scott, when did you finish
synching up this footage?

I never got around to
this till this morning.

Apparently, Amelia was in the
middle of doing it last night when...

Yesterday, when you were explaining
to me the double-system process.

The sound reel was noticeably longer
than the picture reel, wasn't it?

Yeah, it had to be.

When that horse got spooked, I was so
freaked out I left my tape recorder running.

And I got dragged off to look
for an officer's sword.

All right.
Here we go.

Scene 16,
take one. Mark.

HAWKES: And action!

SETH: Sound the assembly!

(DRUM BEATING)

HAWKES: Cut! Cut!

JESSICA: There! Can
you stop it right there?

As I recall, there was a two to three
minute delay between those two takes.

At 90 feet a minute,

we're talking at least a couple of
hundred feet of nothing soundtrack.

And you're quite sure
it isn't here?

Yeah. I've looked everywhere. I
never throw any of this stuff away.

Mrs. F?

Scott, maybe that isn't such
nothing soundtrack after all.

HAWKES: So, Kendall,
tell me, you and Amelia...

(KENDALL CHUCKLES)

That was going on for
quite some time, wasn't it?

KENDALL: Yeah.

She wasn't exactly
Miss Warmth and Charm.

Yeah. It was business
for both of us.

Except in her case,
we're talking career moves.

People using people.
Don't take it personally.

Don't take it...

Listen, man, the last eight years
have been very long and very cold.

No offense, Ricky,
but I can understand why.

Anyway, Amelia and her blind
ambition are behind us now.

And since the profile
of this project

is sinking beneath the
horizon, even as we speak...

You.

What...

It was you, wasn't it?

Me? Me what?
Yeah.

Nailing me, so she could become
director, that wasn't enough.

Those phone messages from the
head of the station in Boston.

She sees her chance to
exploit that phony letter,

so now she wants to
get rid of you, too.

So you go in there last
night and you pop her.

Oh, you really
are wiggy, mister.

(CHUCKLES) Am I? Oh, wow,
I love it. I really do.

And I can't say
I blame you...

Okay. Stop!

The sooner you're out
of my sight, the better.

So here's what it is.
No more Mr. Creative.

You go out there and you yell
"action" and "cut" like a good fellow,

and you get us the hell out of
town by tomorrow night. Deal?

Then we never have to
look at each other again.

The law's gonna take care
of that one, Bobby.

Hi, Tom.

Listen, have you seen
Rick Hawkes or Bob Kendall?

No. As a matter of fact, they were
supposed to be here about a half hour ago

to look over some props
for this afternoon's shoot.

Anything urgent, Scott?

You better believe it. My
tape recorder, it's busted.

Which means we can't shoot
anything that requires sound.

I won't be able to make the
quarter-inch master soundtrack

we need to make the mag.

Whoa!

Quarter-inch master? Mag...
Would you explain all that to me?

This tech stuff,
I love it!

Tom.

Tom, can't you see that
he's got better things to do?

SCOTT: Tom, Nancy's right.

Listen, if you do see them,

could you tell them I took it
down to Portland to be repaired?

I should be back
late tonight.

Mmm-hmm.
Sure.

Thanks a lot.

I think that's the tape
you're looking for, Nancy.

The quarter-inch master tape
that you didn't realize existed

until Scott mentioned it
in your shop today.

Tape?

No. I needed a flat box
to ship some doilies in.

(STAMMERING) I noticed
that there were some here

when I was in the
production office.

Yes. But you picked the one
that was dated last Thursday,

the one you thought contained
some very incriminating recording.

The night you murdered Amelia
Farnum, quite by accident.

You must have heard
the version

that had been transferred to
the mag-track from the master.

Only you didn't know it existed
until Scott told you today.

I think you've gone off
the deep end, Jessica.

I didn't kill
Amelia Farnum

and there is nothing on that
tape that connects me to her.

That's true.

There's only
the admission

that you and Richard Hawkes
planned the Joshua Peabody hoax.

Trust me, Ricky. There
is nothing to worry about.

No one, not even
Jessica Fletcher's

gonna be able to prove
we faked the letter.

JESSICA: What you didn't
realize at the time

was that Scott had inadvertently
left his tape recorder going.

That everything you and Hawkes said was
being recorded with his shotgun mike.

All right.
I won't deny it.

I hid the letter
in the music box

when I was running
an inventory with Edith

over at the
Joshua Peabody house.

But why?

Tom and my marriage began to
fall apart about a year ago.

I was on a buying trip
in Boston

and I met Richard Hawkes,
and one thing lead to another.

And we knew that if we could
sensationalize this Joshua Peabody film

that it would revitalize
his career

and we would have a whole
brand new start together.

Just the two of us.
With money.

And you thought
you'd pulled it off

until Paul Tavener
showed up at Cabot Cove.

Yeah. And he made the connection
between the forgery and the film.

Only he assumed that Richard
had been the sole instigator.

And that it was Richard who had
contracted with Sandsby in London

and killed him.

Well, he was mistaken.
It was you, Nancy.

Oh, no.

Richard and I may have tried to pull
off a scam, but I did not kill anyone.

But you were
in London on May the 6th

when Sandsby was murdered
and his warehouse was torched.

Wrong! I was in Vermont
on a buying trip.

That's where I picked out
that chest of drawers for you!

I'm afraid not, Nancy.

You made the mistake of leaving
the dealer's tag on the chest.

A tag with some numbers on it and there
was something very familiar about it.

And then I realized it was the
country code for Great Britain.

It's 4-4, and the code for
his area of London is 7-1.

The rest of it is the phone number
of the Royal Berkshire Hotel,

where you were staying on
the date Sandsby was murdered.

JESSICA: The antique dealer
in Vermont has confirmed

that he called you
at that number in London

to tell you that he'd found the chest
you'd asked him to look for on my behalf

and you bought it unseen.

We've got your phone
and credit card records.

And the hotel has you listed
as a guest two months earlier.

Which is when you hired Alexander
Sandsby to forge the letter.

So I pulled off a prank.
Period!

That doesn't
prove anything!

Not true.

That cut
on your right wrist.

I believe that forensics
will be able to prove

that it was caused by the
edges of that silver bracelet

that you always wore
until after the murder.

HAWKES: For God's sake,
Nance, why didn't you tell me

this Fletcher woman
was your neighbor?

I've heard about her.
She scares me.

She's not as gullible
as the rest of these yutzes.

NANC Y: Trust me, Ricky. There
is nothing to worry about.

No one, not even
Jessica Fletcher's

gonna be able to prove
we faked the letter.

(LAUGHING)

I want that. Now.

What, are you kidding? This
track will make the whole picture.

A small town junk dealer and a
washed-up director in a document fraud.

JESSICA: I noticed that

Amelia also had a small, fresh cut
on the inside of her left thumb.

In self-defense, she must've grabbed
your wrist, cutting both of you.

In desperation, you reached for the
only weapon at hand, the antique pistol,

and brought it down on her
head, killing her instantly.

You took the incriminating
mag-track

then you poured the film-cleaning
solvent into the film bin,

hoping that the fire would
destroy all evidence of murder.

Richard didn't know
about the killings.

He did his thing
and I did mine.

Oh, Jessica.

Well, it looks as if
Joshua Peabody's reputation

is good for another
200 years.

That's more than I can
say for my digestion.

I can't wait to get
out of this monkey suit.

Oh, I wouldn't
hurry, Doc.

You're a walking, talking photo-op for all
the tourists that are pouring into town.

Sure. And I mean, there's next
year's celebration to consider.

I mean, once you
take that off,

you might not be able
to get back into it again.

Cute. Very cute.

(BOTH LAUGHING)