All language subtitles for MSW.S11E20.Another Killing In C

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

TOM: "My dear Jessica.

"Your letter came
only yesterday,

"so I hope to blazes
this reaches you in time.

"Since you're going
to London,

"I'd consider it an insult
to an old friend

"if you don't spend
your spare week

"with Kate and me
in Kilcleer.

"My current lodgers
are a queer lot.

"God knows there may be a
story for you here in Kilcleer.

"Kate sends her love,
as do I.

"Tom."

I'll see you and your
precious borough council

go to hell
in a basket

before I let you
and his bloody consortium

dig up this valley
looking for gold!

Ah! Take it easy,
Tom.

I'll remind you that
mineral rights in Ireland

are reserved
to the state.

You need planning
permission from the council

and you need a license
from the Department of Energy!

HAROLD: The council
will approve, Tom.

Yeah, with your prodding!

Well, the answer's
still no.

Win or lose, this matter'll
be settled in Dublin

in a court of law,
three years from now!

And not in
your bloody council.

Mr. Dempsey.
What?

We can appreciate
your concern

for the ecology
of this valley.

But there've been a lot
of technical advances.

The heap-leach
liner, for one.

Your heap-leach liner
leaks, Mr. Ickes,

and you know it.

You know, Harold here
was telling me

that you're having a bit of
difficulty making ends meet

up there at the lodge and fishery.

My company would be
willing to subsidize you.

Stuff your money,
both of you!

What the hell are you
doing here, Dennis?

Supposed to be out
on the river.

It's my day off, Tom.

And he put me on the Citizens'
Committee for Development.

Well, we're an
urban people now, Tom.

Industry is the future
of Ireland.

The engine that'll
run the Irish economy.

They got through to you with their
bill of goods, too, didn't they?

You're a gillie,
Dennis, a fisherman,

not a bloody
gold miner!

Well, so much for your
Irish diplomacy, Harold.

It'll take a little
more time, that's all.

Oh, yeah, and three years from now

we're gonna lose it
all in the courts?

No, thanks.

He cannot be allowed to
stand in the way any longer.

What do you mean
by that, Walter?

I read about
the Colorado senator

who was blocking your
development in San Isidro.

He was killed.

And you know that they found it
to be an unfortunate accident.

Which it was,
Harold. Now...

TOM: What it is, Jessica, is the
mining industry has a skillful lobby.

Provides a lot of money
to those in the government

who favor industrialization
and exploitation.

Miranda Mining.

Didn't they leave quite a mess
back in the Colorado Rockies?

San Isidro.

A hundred million dollars
cleanup job.

They poisoned
70 miles of streams.

Polluted the water table.

It's not gonna
happen here, Jess.

In the meantime, you have
to keep your head above water

at the lodge
and the fishery.

You know, the last
time I heard from Kate,

she didn't sound
too happy about things.

Ah, you know Katy.

(GASPS)
Tom, look out!

(CAR HORN HONKING)

TOM: Did you see that
nasty-Iooking fellow, Jess?

Aren't we dressed up
on our day off?

The Councilman Early
asked me to meet Tom

and Mr. Ickes, that fellow from America.

(CHUCKLES)

Well, I doubt you had a
lot to say in that company.

Don't worry, I put in my
shilling's worth, Brigid.

I'll bet you did!

And Mr. Early, he asked
about you, by the way.

Well, you know how
he keeps after me.

It's nothing
a girl can't handle.

Sure, if she wants to.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

Well, if that isn't
a nasty thing to say!

You know how
I feel about you.

And what? I suppose I haven't
made my feelings clear as well?

Jessica! Are you ever a
sight for sore eyes, girl!

It's so good to see you, Kate!

Make Jessica comfortable
and I'll be in for dinner.

Thank you, Shauna.

Your car came back from
the garage by the way.

Ah.

You didn't settle
a thing, did you?

Well, now is not the time to
talk about something like that.

You're gonna spoil
Jessica's moment.

(LAUGHING)

I'll see you this evening. Yes.

Poor bloke. He's been in London
all last month looking for a loan.

Me, I'd settle
for a wee thatched cottage

with geraniums under every
window and let the years slip by.

I know.

Brigid, show Mrs. Fletcher her room.

JESSICA: Thanks.

Dinner's at 7:00. Make yourself at home.

I'm home already!

SHAMUS: No, it's not
your imagination, Tom.

Now, this bearded fellow's been
mucking around the valley all week.

I told you, Shamus.
Has he got a name?

Well, not that
anybody's heard.

Flanagan saw him drinking down at
the pub, but he's not lodging there.

Nor is he at any of the bed
and breakfast houses around.

He could be camping.

Listen, you tell the lads
when they see him

to ask his name
and what his business is.

And I'll bet he doesn't
tell you a thing,

'cause he's got consortium
spy written all over him.

CYRIL: My preference
at low water

would always be
the Woolly Bugger,

and at high, Ally's Shrimp
or a General Practitioner.

Or, if I'm going wet, I've had
jolly good luck with the Blue Badger.

How very knowledgeable,
Mr. Ruddy.

And how come
the impoverished salmon

haven't found you
in over a week?

(ALL LAUGHING)

You've lost two guests this
past week over the lack of fish.

I don't blame the fish, however, so
much as the guide you've given me.

He's incompetent.

Shamus Riley's the most
experienced gillie I've got.

He tells me you won't fish the
waters that he recommends to you.

(LAUGHS) There you are. You see?

(PHONE RINGING)
That's Cyril for you.

Won't dip his fly
in home waters!

Tom rotates the beats tomorrow,
Mr. Ruddy. Don't you, Tom?

Will have better luck.

Telephone, Mr. Layton.

Tell me about
your Freddie, Laura.

Has marriage turned
him into a cold fish?

I can't tell, Nellie.

Freddie's not
my husband yet.

(CLINKING GLASS)

Ladies and gentlemen.

Now, Kate tells me
I'm given to verbosity.

(LAUGHS)
CYRIL: Here, here.

So I'm allowed one speech
a day, and this is it.

I hold, twixt me thumb
and forefinger, a wet fly

that's caught more
10- and 12-pound salmon

between Ballyhooly and Delphi
than you can poke a stick at.

And it's called,
paradoxically, the Black Mariah.

Now there's the Irish mind for you,
because it's yellow. Look at that.

Anyway, I have
a plentiful supply

for each and every one
of you tomorrow morning.

And now, may the holes
in your nets

be no bigger
than your fish!

(TOASTING IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(ALL TOASTING
IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(CHUCKLING)

I take it that
salmon fishing

is not your priority,
Mr. Pryce.

(LAUGHS)

So what brings you
to Kilcleer?

It's Edward.

And if you mean am I
somewhat underwhelmed

by Tom's Black Mariah,
you're right.

I teach English, as
I think you once did.

But I'm here owing to my real
interest, which is botany.

Oh.

FREDDIE: It's in USA Today?
My God!

What did it say?

I've gotta see this
for myself.

I don't know where I'm
gonna get a copy around here.

All right.

We didn't speak. You don't
have a clue as to where I am.

You've picked a right time
to get into a row with him.

It serves him right.

I'm not gonna
be bossed, Shauna.

I can't believe
you didn't tell him.

Every time I'm ready to, he's
in a mood that'd spoil it.

Another month and
he'll know for himself.

You'll be
showing, girl!

Come on, ladies,
stop prattling.

Where's the coffee?

JESSICA: So, Mr. Pryce, you'll
be tramping all over these hills,

looking for some rare
variety of exotic what?

Oh, uh... As a matter of fact,
a rare species of poinciana.

But you tell me,

to borrow from Polonius,
aside from writing,

what is the whirlwind
of your passion?

My passion.

Well, I suppose I'd
have to say my roots.

I had a great-grandfather
who lived down in the valley,

and of course, catching
up with Tom and Kate.

Nellie, my girl, the
gentleman spoke of passion.

Oh, it offends me
to the soul

to hear a robustious,
periwig-pated fellow

tear a passion to tatters, to very rags,

to split the ears of the
groundlings... Oh, Cyril, do shut up!

He'd go on all night
if I let him.

(CHUCKLES)

Mr. Pryce,

I heard you were planning
a trip to the village.

Would you take
a passenger?

Of course.
Come along.

Thank you.
I'll just freshen up.

Be back in a mo.

Oh, don't forget your book.
Legends of Kilcleer.

I've been looking
all over for this.

I'd love to borrow it
from you sometime.

Of course you may,
after tomorrow.

There are some botanical
references I want to check out.

After that,
I'll let you have it.

Thanks.

Trade places with me.

You take the 18 house guests
every night of the week.

No way.

And I thought
writing was torture!

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Stop your carping,
Harold.

My people have dealt with these
environmental blowhards before.

This matter'll be over
before you know it.

Who exactly is this man of
yours you keep talking about?

Someone with influence
in Dublin?

Not exactly.

He has influence, yes, but
it's subtle, yet very effective.

Never failed us yet.

You just keep thinking
about your percentage.

(WOMAN LAUGHING)

Well, who're
these young ladies?

Oh, there's Mr. Early
with the American.

Shauna, no,
I don't want to.

He wants us
to talk to him.

Brigid, there's no harm
if we have a drink or two.

Shauna, stop it!
Come on!

Kilcleer's monument to
integrity and principle!

Him and that
mealy-mouthed American

would like to do a little bit
more than just mine the valley.

Ah, get off it, Shamus.

I was talking to Tom.

I'd be surprised if you didn't,
him being the boss and all.

He was asking me what truck
you have going with Early.

It's not Tom's business what I
do with my life or my politics.

He loves you, boy.

He thinks of you
as his son.

Look, I don't need
another conscience, Shamus!

So if Tom asked you
to talk to me...

It's me that's asking!

I'm here
on my own hook.

Ah, well, then save it.

There's a lot of
old fellas like you

who see no future
beyond the salmon,

and that view will be
the ruination of Ireland.

(SIGHS)

Maybe it's an idle
question, Nellie,

but what's Mr. Ruddy
doing tomorrow?

Fishing. What else?

Well, about lunchtime I'll
be through with my walk.

I'll be down
by the river bank.

Well, aren't you
the one!

We can have a picnic.

It's very nice down there by the river.

(LAUGHS)

Yes!

Yes, we could.

(LAUGHING)

JESSICA: Ah, Kate, these Irish
breakfasts will be the end of me.

I mean, fruit and porridge
and sausages, eggs, mushrooms,

and then that delectable
soda bread

with butter slathered
all over it.

And you can't
resist any of it.

Well, maybe tomorrow,
but not today!

(LAUGHS)

Hold on there, Cyril. Can't
have you out on the river

without my Black Mariah.

All right.
I'll wear it for luck.

Good morning, Jessica.

You'd think this place was going to
live or die on that silly fly of his.

Ah, but the Black Mariah, Kate, if
it caught salmon in Ballyhooly...

Ah, go on! It'll be no
better than any other.

But these poor fools
will believe Tom.

I wish I did.

(LAUGHS)

I'd better get started
in the rooms.

If you're bored...

Ah, don't even
think about it.

Tom's gonna take me down
and show me the ruins.

All right, then.

Morning.

Oh. You're looking at a compulsive
straightener-outer, Jessica.

Well, have a nice day.

Thank you.

TOM: There's the moor, Jess.

This is what's left of
the old British garrison.

Torched by the IRA
in 1916.

Hey.

They even stuffed a couple of Black
and Tans down the old well there.

Oh.

You know, my McGill family
history says that my grandmother

had a father who died
somewhere around here.

Bless him.

The pagan heart
and the Christian soul

feed the roots of the Irish temperament.

The pagans, good Catholics all, told me

this place is inhabited
by ghosts and goblins.

I can believe that.

And the good thing is
there's fairies here, too.

You make a wish,

then you drop a penny.

(CLINKING)

(SPLASHES)

And the wee folk will
have your wish come true?

Mine's not so much a wish
as a curse, Jess.

(CLINKING)

(SPLASHES)

DENNIS: Well,
you heard Mr. Dempsey.

You don't have one of his Black Mariahs.

I'm sorry. Can we get by
with the flies we've got?

Sure. Here, give me your
rod. Watch what I do.

Listen, I gotta make a phone
call. I'll be back in a minute.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

This beat's no better than
any of the others, Riley.

Sure, there's no helping
you at all, Mr. Ruddy.

Why don't you use one of
the Black Mariahs Tom said?

You've got one
on your vest there.

If a Blue Badger won't
do it, nothing will.

Just get out of my way.

I will.

And roast you!

(CHUCKLES)

(TWIG SNAPPING)

Ah, princess?

I hope you're in the mood for
a good California chardonnay.

FREDDIE: I promise I'll
be back in the morning!

What is going on,
Freddie?

You shut me out!

Why did you bring me here
if we're not even gonna...

A good day's
fishing, what?

Isn't he a beauty?
12:00 this morning.

Jolly good.

We certainly didn't
come here to go fishing.

That guide of yours, Dennis,

he came back saying
you walked out on him.

Where'd you go?

I went to make a phone
call. Now drop it.

Sure.

TOM: Ladies and gentlemen,
the long drought is broken.

Mr. Ruddy is credited

with the first salmon over
10 pounds in four weeks.

Oh! Well done!
Bravo! Bravo!

Thank you.

And I may say it was off a Blue Badger,

not your fabled
Black Mariah fly.

Cyril.

Tom, what happened to
Mr. Pryce and Mr. Layton?

TOM: I don't know.

Freddie took the car into
Cork. He had an errand there.

Mr. Pryce left a note on
the kitchen board, ma'am,

saying not to expect
him for dinner.

Thank you, Shauna.

Well, I can tell you,
he won't go hungry.

He went off this morning with
a picnic big enough for a horse!

(CHUCKLES)

Was it a cozy little
picnic, you and Mr. Pryce?

Oh, it could've been
quite beautiful

if the blighter
had shown up!

(LAUGHS)

Oh, Cyril, do stop drinking.
You'll embarrass us both.

Find anything fun to
read here, Laura, hmm?

I'm not sure.

It says in here they fed a trial batch
of trout fry hormone-treated food,

and the milt from the
sex-reversed "masculinized" females

was used to fertilize
sea trout ova.

How the heck do you
masculinize a female?

(LAUGHS)

Well, I thought that was
a major operation.

But do you suppose they sew a wee
Irish vest and pants for the wee fishy?

(LAUGHS)

You hid the electric bill
in the spoon drawer.

(SHUSHES) I just didn't want
to bother you, that's all.

Meaning we haven't
the money.

Sure we have. Just wait till
this group's checks clear.

Meantime, the lights'll
be cut off.

Or the lamps.
We're out of kerosene.

Richie Donald said he'd
stay open. I'll see you.

(SIGHS)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

(MAN LAUGHING)

HAROLD: You represent
the future of Ireland.

We're asking you to keep
an eye out, that's all.

In plain language, you're
asking me to spy, Mr. Early.

Dennis, in a couple of years,
with on-the-job training,

you'll be qualified
in resource management.

You'll be making 10 times
what you do now.

And major companies
like Mr. Ickes'

are prepared to invest
in those who qualify.

Young men
like yourself!

A little down payment,
Dennis, against the future.

HAROLD: All I'm asking
is you let me know

what Dempsey is doing,
what he plans against us.

Look, I'm sorry, man.
I'm with you in principle,

but this, I...

HAROLD: Oh,
for goodness' sakes!

Brigid keeps telling me
you two want

to put away enough
to tie the knot.

And this'd be enough
for a down payment

on that cottage of Dempsey's
you've been looking at,

and then some.

Into your pocket
with it.

If you change your mind, no harm done.

I know I'll see it back.

Always nagging about money.

(SIGHS)

Women.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

What?

TOM: It was a blatant attempt
on my life, Boyle!

Look, the car had just come back
from a checkup at Mulroony's.

(EXCLAIMS)
Now, don't you...

If there'd been a problem with the ball
joints, don't you think he'd have seen it?

As I said, it'll be checked
thoroughly, Mr. Dempsey,

though I doubt we'll find anything more
than evidence of normal wear and tear.

Wear and tear my...

Tom, sit still,
will you?

When you do check
the car, Sergeant,

on the off chance
that Tom's right,

there'll be fingerprints
that don't belong.

I'm sure I don't need to be reminded of
the fundamentals of police procedure, ma'am.

A word of advice.

Stop making damaging accusations
against Councilman Early.

The laws against libel here in Ireland
are much more severe than in America.

(SCOFFS)

(CAMERA CLICKING)

(FOOTSTEPS)

(GASPS) You gave me quite a turn!

Oh, I'm sorry,
Jessica.

I didn't mean to startle you.
It is kind of spooky.

Have you seen Tom
this morning?

Yes. And aside from a bad
bump on his head, he's okay.

He was out early,
as usual.

LAURA: Certain times of day,

you get the most incredible
contrasts in sunlight and shadow.

It's like some
people I know.

I thought Freddie had whisked
me off to Ireland to propose.

Maybe we'd even get
married someplace.

Wrong?

Oh, right.

He's got some problem
he won't tell me about.

Oh.

Well, in that case,
you need a wish.

Now, legend has it that if
you drop a penny down here,

the fairies will see that
your wish comes true.

(LAUGHING)
Really?

Well, when all
else fails...

(CLINKING)

Okay, fairies,
do your thing.

TOM: I happen to know you were having
dinner with that creep Early last night!

And who the hell
told you that?

The bloody bartender,
that's who!

And I'm telling you to mind
your own bloody business!

What I do on my time is my business!

Dennis, Dennis, what in
the hell is happening to us?

Look, you think
you own me, Tom.

Well, I can't be beholden
to you all me life.

All right! What kind of
blood money they paying you?

(DOOR SLAMMING)

Hi, Jess.

I'm sorry you had
to hear that.

Jessica and every Tom, Dick
and Harry in the village.

(SIGHING)

Somewhere I went awfully
wrong with that boy.

Oh, just listen to
the poor creature.

In case you hadn't noticed,
Tom, he's a grown man.

You know, it sounded more to me as if
he just wanted to make up his own mind

about a few things.

Before you go off,

I was worried
about Mr. Pryce.

He hasn't been back since last
night. I rang Sergeant Boyle...

Boyle? What do you want
with that blithering idiot?

Tom, if it's the same Sergeant Boyle
that I met last time I was in Kilcleer,

he's no idiot.

And, nevertheless,
I rang him,

and he's going to have
his men out looking.

(SCOFFS) Pryce.

Pryce is as randy
as all get-out.

He's probably taken up with
some little girl in the village.

Goodbye, Kate.

Tom.

Oh, now.
What is it, girl?

(SIGHS)

I'm frightened
for you is all.

For us.
Please, be careful.

Of course. Everything's
going to be all right.

LAURA: I wanted landscapes
without people,

but here and there somebody I
didn't see through the wide lens

turns up like Waldo.

Here, look.

Oh.

Now, that Waldo looks like the man
that Tom and I saw on the road from Cork

day before yesterday.

(DOOR OPENING) Isn't that
Ed Pryce down by the river?

Laura? I'm back.

Late but great. Just gonna take
a shower. I'll see you guys later.

Hi, Jessica.
Hello.

(CHATTERING ON POLICE RADIO)

POLICEMAN: I want this
put in a bag.

Right. Have him come here,
get him down now. Okay.

It's blood, all right. Get
everything to the lab in Cork.

And it'd be nice if you
could find whoever spilt it.

BOYLE: I must emphasize that all we've
found thus far is possible foul play.

Pray it's nothing
more than that.

I'm suggesting that it's not in
your best interest at this point

to alarm your
other guests.

Your sensitivity
overwhelms me, Sergeant.

But it's as plain as
the nose on your face,

something's happened
to Pryce.

Tom, the Sergeant's
doing all he can.

More coffee,
Sergeant Boyle?

Oh, yes.
Thank you, Shauna.

Brigid and I
had a thought.

The ruins being so near,

have you considered
the wee people?

The wee people, Shauna?

They're known to carry
people off, aren't they?

(BOYLE LAUGHS)

I think you're being a wee
bit cheeky with me, Shauna.

Sergeant, wait.

You know, Shauna has just reminded
me of something very important.

Ding, ding, ding,
and then nothing.

Ding, ding, ding?

Have you partaken of
a drop or two, Jess?

No! No, but I think I know
where we'll find Mr. Pryce.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Easy. Easy.

MAN: Hold it.

All right.
Let him down.

I remembered
the sound, Tom.

I mean, yesterday, when we
dropped our pennies down the well

there was
a distinct splash.

That means there was water.
There always is.

Right. Except when Laura and I did
it this morning, there was no splash.

TOM: An obstruction.
Good for you, Jess!

Here comes the genius.

Coroner O'Hara believes Mr. Pryce
died from a savage blow to the head,

and his watch got smashed,
probably in the well, at 3:18.

So the murder must have
occurred sometime before then.

At least as long as it took to
bring the body up from the river.

Is it my luck or yours
that we have a murder

each time you visit Kilcleer,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Maybe the luck of
the Irish, Sergeant.

I'll be needing to see
your guests and staff.

All right.

FREDDIE: No,
I'm the chief accountant

at the Overhill Corporation
of New York.

I have a card here.

This has my phone number
and address.

Although I'd appreciate it if
you would not call the company.

I never know what
they might think.

We'll do what we have to, Mr. Layton.

I understand.

Thank you for
your time.

TOM: I don't care if you're
the Lord Mayor of Dublin,

I'm accusing you,
and that sleazebag Ickes,

of an outright attempt
on my life!

Is that the best you can
come up with, Dempsey?

You killed an innocent man

in your maniacal belief he was
some kind of spy for the consortium.

Gentlemen, please.

Oh, now, wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Can you tell me what the hell
he's doing in my house, Boyle?

There's been a murder, Terence, and
as councilman, it's my duty to be here.

These are my premises,

and it's my duty to see
you the hell out of here.

Now, if you don't do it, he's
gonna feel the toe of my boot.

Uh, Mr. Early,
better do as he says.

I'll fill you in on my
investigation, don't worry.

Right.

You are flipping
daft, man.

Treating a borough
councilman like that.

Is that the uniform talking, or the 300
acres you own north end of the valley?

How much did Mr. Ickes
offer you for that, Sergeant?

Ah, good evening,
Sergeant Boyle.

Good evening, Mrs.
Fletcher. If you don't mind,

we've been having a bit of trouble pinning
down just who or what Edward Pryce was.

There's no identification, no
personal papers of any kind.

Well, he said that he was an
English teacher cum amateur botanist.

But you have your doubts?

Yes.

On my first night here,

he attributed a very well-known
speech of Hamlet's to Polonius.

I mean, anybody claiming to
teach English would know better.

He also fared very
badly as a botanist.

Well, I'm neither a Shakespeare
scholar nor a botanist, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, he said that he was searching
for a rare species of poinciana,

which happens to be
a tropical plant.

I'm sure you'll not find
it anywhere in Ireland.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

There was a book that Mr.
Pryce promised to lend me.

It was called
The Legends of Kilcleer.

You didn't happen to find it
among his belongings, did you?

There was precious
little of anything.

No. No such item,
I'm afraid.

Well, I'll be saying
good night.

I thank you
for your time.

Good night, Sergeant.
Good night.

Yes.

(SIGHS)

NELLIE: So let me summarize
it for you, sweet thing.

Men are good first
for sex.

Well, depending on who,
you know.

(BOTH LAUGH)

Then cash in the old handbag
next, and permanency comes last.

You have merely reversed
the procedure.

All over for you.

I thought you'd jumped
a plane or something.

You two want to be alone. No, Nellie.

Yes, you do.

Speak with your heart,
if you have one.

Laura tells me
it's withered

in the world of commerce
and industry.

She loves you.
It's to your credit.

(SIGHS)

God bless.

I love you.

I don't think I give
a damn anymore.

Listen, the only reason
why I went to Cork

is because they have a newsstand
there that carries USA Today,

and I had to wait for
the morning delivery.

Why on Earth
would you need...

'Cause my picture is spread
all over the Thursday edition.

There's a bunch of money missing from
one of the accounts that I supervise.

I swear, I had nothing
to do with it.

But they're accusing me
and saying I skipped.

Well, why didn't you tell me
that in the first place, then?

I didn't want
to spoil anything.

I wanted this to be
what you wanted it to be,

a surprise marriage and honeymoon
rolled into one, and I...

We'll go back tomorrow and you'll clear
it up and we'll carry on from there.

I'll make it up to you,
I promise I will.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

What's going on?

Mr. Layton, I have to ask you
to accompany me to the station.

Can I ask why?

Some questions.

Among them,

how your fingerprints appeared on
the stone that killed Mr. Pryce.

Well, I was fishing
by the river.

I could've touched
any number of rocks.

Your gillie McSorley says you
left the beat to make a phone call.

And you were alone with no
witness on the road to Cork

about the time that
Mr. Pryce lost his life.

New York says you're in
grave trouble there, too.

We need to have
a chat, Mr. Layton.

Sergeant, I'm quite sure that
Mr. Layton will return to New York

and face whatever
charges they have,

but none of this warrants his
being arrested here in Kilcleer.

Oh, I'm not arresting
Mr. Layton.

He's just coming in for questioning
on your own volition, isn't that right?

I'll be back soon, doll.

Still no luck
identifying Mr. Pryce.

But I'm told the Overhill Corporation
sent a private investigator after Layton,

and he hasn't been heard from
since early yesterday.

You think the investigator
was Pryce?

What, that Freddie killed him
to get him off his trail?

Laura, I want another look
at those photos that you took.

LAURA: Yeah, you remember this
one with the strange man in it?

I took that at noon,
day before yesterday.

And this is the one I took yesterday
around 3:00 with no people in it.

Ah, very nice.

But 3:00,
are you quite sure?

Well, it had to be, because
it was just before I wrapped up

and came in
for tea.

Yes. But look at
the two pictures together.

I mean, the angle of the
sunlight and the shadows.

I mean, they're
almost identical.

Are you sure you took
the first one around noon?

I might've goofed
a little on the time.

What does that have
to do with anything?

Laura, it means that this first photo
would've been shot around 3:00 as well.

So that means Mr. Pryce
was still alive at 3:00.

Well, let's get
a good night's sleep.

We've got lots
to do tomorrow.

DENNIS: But why in God's name
didn't you tell me, Bridge?

I wanted to know that you were
marrying me because you loved me,

not because you had to.

What a little fool
you are, hmm?

You didn't know it could
only make me love you more.

Well, it's a simple thing. We will
be married in Newport next weekend.

Sure, and then what?

The wee man will be
arriving in October.

And how do you know
it won't be a girl,

as pretty and as clever
as her ma?

I saw Dr. McDowell today.
He did a test.

He'll be a boy, as handsome
and intelligent as his da.

Bridge. What would you say if
I had in my pocket right now

money enough so you
could quit working,

and we could put a down payment
on the Dempseys' cottage,

with a little left over?

I'd say you were
clean bonkers.

Where would you get that
kind of money unless it was...

What are you
saying, Dennis?

It's from Mr. Early. So I'd spy
on Tom for him and Mr. Ickes.

Oh, Lord.

What're you going to do?

I'll have to think
it out, Bridge.

But I'll do what's
best for us. I will.

If you're looking for Laura,
she was up with the birds

and went to see Freddie
at the police station.

Oh, good for her. Actually,
I was looking for a book

that Mr. Pryce had, Kate.

Legends of Kilcleer?

KATE: No, sorry,
I didn't see it.

Sergeant Boyle's news about that
investigator following Freddie,

it changes things,
doesn't it?

No, I don't think so.

You must know
something we don't.

Or is it simply one
of your intuitions?

Jess?

What is it?

Oh. Nothing.

I just phoned London and
I'm expecting a callback.

Let me know as soon as
it comes in, all right?

Get on with it,
the pair of you!

The more you know that lady, the less
you'll know, and that's the truth.

Bingo.

Kate said you were
up to something.

What have you
got there, Jess?

Edward Pryce's book.

TOM: Oh. Well, if it
concerns his murder

or the survival of something I hold
very dear, could you share it with me

before you give it
to that ass Boyle?

Oh, well, of course, Tom.

You know, it seems that Edward Pryce
followed quite a strange itinerary,

from San Isidro
in Colorado.

You know, I believe
a state senator

was blocking Miranda Mining's
development there

when he met a rather
unfortunate accident.

Hotel here. Hotel there. All the way
through England and on to Glasgow.

Until he ended up
here at your lodge.

You know, if Sergeant Boyle is right,
he was following Freddie Layton.

But that doesn't fit
with the facts.

I mean,
what was his purpose,

and what was so much at stake
for a man to be murdered over?

It had to be about
the consortium.

Perhaps.

Tom, I'm gonna trust you to see
that Sergeant Boyle gets this,

and I'm sure that it will
help to clear Freddie Layton.

Sure. Of course, Jess.

(SIGHS)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

See, when the geological
survey comes in, we'll be fine.

Dennis. Can I
buy you a pint?

No, thanks.

I've thought about
your proposal, gentlemen.

And with all thanks
for your largesse,

I'm declining.

But why, for God's sakes?

This money is a beginning
for yourself and Brigid.

The money wouldn't be
a beginning, Mr. Early.

It'd be an end.

You see, for all
Tom Dempsey's faults,

he's still too good
a man to be betrayed.

You're going to abandon the future
of your country to that idiot?

What does Brigid say?
I'm sure she...

It's not about Ireland.

And Brigid understands
that view.

You see, we're...
We're going to be parents.

And whatever our
difficulties now,

we don't want to start
our boy off on blood money.

He'll understand that when he's old
enough to look his pa in the eye.

And as for my country, it's
yours and mine, Mr. Early,

not Mr. Ickes',
nor any consortium's.

Now, I'm still for Ireland, but
not at the price you're asking.

That's lovely.

Yes, Jerry. As a matter
of fact, I am fishing.

So it was the Shropshire
Repertory Company.

Go on.

And one of those three
names is Edward Montgomery.

Yes, I've got it. Oh,
God, you're an angel.

Listen, I'll be in London
day after tomorrow,

we'll definitely
have lunch,

and it's on me.
Right!

Bye-bye.

Well, it's adieu
to the Ruddys.

Off to the warm
Antilles, huh?

Hey, listen,
bon voyage, Cyril.

Thanks.
Nellie.

You'll be back next year, God
willing, to catch some salmon.

Not bothering about catching
murderers, of course.

Speaking of which,
Mrs. Fletcher,

who's very experienced
in this kind of thing,

is convinced that Freddie
Layton is not the guilty party.

Despite the opinions of our paradigm
of constabulary, Sergeant Boyle.

Who is it then, Jessica?

I haven't the faintest idea,

except to say that the police have
concentrated their investigation at the river,

and I believe that the proof
will be found elsewhere.

Oh? And where would
that be, Jessica?

At the ruins, Nellie.

And oddly enough, it has to do
with one of those Black Mariah flies

that Tom put so
much stock in.

Well, after-dinner refreshments
in the library, folks.

BARTENDER: Telephone
for you, Mr. Ickes.

Ickes.

Yes, yes.

Well, then you do
what you must!

(TWIG SNAPPING)

(GASPS)

Goodness' sakes, Tom.

You scared
the life out of me!

Kate was worried when
you left the lodge.

What the hell are
you doing, Jess?

Well, I'm looking for something,
though I don't expect to find it,

but I think that Pryce's
killer may believe that I might.

You're not making
any sense, Jess.

Look, when they brought
Pryce up yesterday,

one of your precious Black Mariah
flies was hooked to his jacket.

Pryce isn't
a fisherman. Oh.

You mean the killer wore the fly
and it got hooked on Pryce's jacket?

It was snagged accidentally when
he was carried up from the river.

Now, according to Dennis, Freddie Layton
didn't have the Black Mariah either,

but I think I know
who did.

Yeah. Go on.

Your bearded
stranger, Tom.

A photo Laura Maples
showed me confirmed

that he was very close
to the scene at 3:00

the afternoon that
Pryce was killed.

A call from London tonight told
me who it was that Pryce followed

from San Isidro
to Kilcleer.

Then the note Pryce
supposedly left in your kitchen

to say that he wouldn't
be in for dinner,

it didn't match
his own handwriting,

convincing me that it had to be one of
your staff or your guests who killed Pryce,

and a second one who carried
his body up from the river.

You're still talking
riddles, Jess.

This bearded fella, he's not one of my
staff, and he's not one of my guests.

(TWIGS SNAPPING)
I'm afraid she is.

Hello, Nellie.

Or should I say
Mrs. Edward Montgomery?

(NELLIE LAUGHING)

NELLIE: Well done,
Jessica.

(EXHALING)

(BREATHES DEEPLY)

Top hole all the way.

I heard you make that first
call to Jerry Hardwick in London.

I assume that's how you found out about
my husband's tour with the Shropshire Rep?

Playing Polonius in
Shakespeare's Hamlet.

A tour Edward Pryce
followed very closely,

uncertain as to which actor was
the assassin that he was after.

Yes, you had to find his
bloody book, didn't you?

He'd been on our tail since
that incident in San Isidro.

So there was a murder
there, too!

Pryce's real name was Bond.

(LAUGHING)

Interpol agent investigating the
consortium's dirty little secrets.

But where's
Mr. Montgomery, Nellie?

You're not big or strong enough to have
carried Pryce's body up from the river.

CYRIL: Right here,
Mrs. Fletcher.

(GUN COCKING)

Now, we've got
a plane to catch.

Say, if you'll both
get over by the well,

there's room enough
in there for two more.

Police! Hold it
right there, Montgomery!

Well, you cut it
a bit thin, Sergeant.

Amen to that, Sarge.

Oh, well, Shamus Riley
called as you asked him to,

but talk about
luck of the Irish.

I had a flat tire
on the road.

JESSICA: I talked to
Laura on the telephone.

Does it sound like Freddie's getting
things straightened out back there?

Oh, yes, he is, and better still,
he and Laura got married yesterday.

Speaking of which...

Hello, Dennis. You two are off, are you?

We've the drive
to Newport,

and the priest will be
waiting for us at 5:00.

Oh, that's great. Listen, Kate and
I have been thinking long and hard

about a wedding present
for the two of you.

And... Well, why don't
you tell them, Kate.

It's no secret that you've been
looking at our rental cottage.

And, well, it's not something
we'd like to let out of the family.

Well, what she's
trying to say is,

we know you turned Early down
and we're proud of you.

The cottage is yours
if you want it.

Do we want it!

TOM: Oh, wait a minute! I'm thinking of
running for Early's empty council seat,

so I'm gonna need
a manager here.

And that job's yours, too.
I mean, if you want it.

Ah, Tom. Do you
even have to ask?

That's me boy!

(TOM LAUGHING)

TOM: Come on, darling, let's
have a jar for the road.

Can't blame me for
being jealous, Jessica.

It's a very pretty
little place.

Mmm-hmm.

A wee thatched cottage with
geraniums under every window.

Just the place to let
the years slip by.

Ah, Kate.

(LAUGHING)