Original subtitles

Previously on Why Women Kill...

You will be remembered.

I'm so sick of all your lies!

"Relax",

"Isabel.

"No one's found Harry's body yet,

and we're never going back to Galveston."

I don't know which Harry from Galveston this is,

but I intend to find out.

Is there a chance

that anyone else was in this house that night?

I don't know why you're so smug. That photo proves nothing.

It proves you were there. You killed Carlo and now,

you'll have to pay me to keep quiet.

The negative is ours. We've just paid for it.

What can I say? Life ain't fair.

Ah!

She died in fear.

No sedative. No tenderness.

Isabel killed herself last night.

And she left a note, a confession.

She says she killed your husband.

What's wrong, boy? You bury a bone or something?

Vern, it's me.

I can't really explain it.

I want to elope.

I just need to get out

of this house.

Three weeks had passed

since the murder of Isabel Duarte.

And her killer was now a member

of the Elysian Park Garden Club.

Alma Fillcot quickly established herself

as a gracious hostess.

Always willing to shower her guests with lovely compliments,

and hilarious stories.

But none of her new friends seemed to notice

the darkness behind her eyes.

It was the look of a woman

who'd gotten everything she wanted,

only to find

it wasn't enough.

Oh.

I heard Rita is being released from prison today.

Really?

- Do you think she'll want to come back to the club? - I hope not.

I don't care if her maid did confess to the murder.

Rita's reputation is in tatters.

I take it you've heard the rumors

about Rita's affair with that boy?

Well, obviously.

But still, don't you think it's time

we had a new president?

Absolutely. We need new blood.

Can anyone toss their hat in the ring?

Or is it based on seniority?

- Anyone can run. Oh.

Even our newest member.

No, I wasn't asking for me.

Stop.

Oh, well, why not, Alma?

We need someone smart.

Oh, I hope a few people run this time

to make it more interesting.

No one ever dared go up against Rita.

Alma, could you get me my stole?

I have to get ready for my party tonight.

Of course, and I made a lovely crumb cake.

I'll bring that out as well.

- Excuse me.

- Alma, may I have a word? - Of course.

You're not taking Grace seriously, are you?

About the presidency?

I don't know.

Maybe. Why?

The president of the Elysian Park Garden Club

needs to be the face of the organization,

an elegant liaison to the community.

You don't think I'm elegant?

Look, I know you're buying nicer clothes,

spending more time on your hair.

But...

But you

can't make a silk purse out of a...

Well, I think you know the saying.

Am I interrupting something?

I was just telling Alma

that I hope she'll vote for me as president.

And I was telling Joan, I won't be able to,

since I'm running myself.

So it's a horse race.

What fun.

Well, I will see you both at my party tonight.

It starts at 8:00.

I suppose I should go, too.

Yes, you should.

It was at that moment,

Joan finally saw the madness

in Alma's eyes.

Joan was unnerved and quickly retreated.

But sadly for Joan,

her fate was already sealed.

Three weeks had passed since Dee Fillcot had eloped

with Vern Loomis for a City Hall wedding.

But neither of her parents

had been invited to the brief ceremony.

Her father was desperate to know why.

Though he had his suspicions.

Hey, Mr. Fillcot.

Uh, sorry, but Dee's already gone out for the day.

I missed her again, eh?

Well, uh, I brought a few more things from the house. I

thought she might like to have them.

Oh, that's, that's very thoughtful.

Tell her, if she should have a moment,

I'd love to hear from her.

Sure.

Thank you.

Thanks.

It's only 9:30.

I could already smell the whiskey on his breath.

Whatever's going on with you guys,

it is tearing him up inside.

Well, it's tearing me up, too.

Is it me?

Am I the reason we eloped?

They didn't want you to marry me?

No. They like you very much.

Then why won't you tell me what's going on?

I can't.

I just can't.

Fine.

But whatever it is, they're your parents.

You can't just cut them off without an explanation.

Easy for you to say.

You don't know what they did.

I know we got a baby coming.

What if he or she just stopped talking to us one day?

How would you feel?

Seriously?

You expect me to wear this cheap thing?

Hey, that's my wife's best dress.

Well, loosen the purse strings, tightwad.

This is ugly as sin.

Eh, she's only my first wife.

I promise to spend more on the second.

Ugh, this is so depressing.

You know there are photographers out there.

You're getting out of jail.

You know, that puts most people in a good mood.

How happy should I be?

I just lost my best friend in the entire world.

You mean your maid?

Isabel was also my cousin.

A cousin you hired as a maid.

She cleaned your house for ten years,

murdered the husband that you couldn't stand,

and then killed herself to clear your name.

And they say good help is hard to find.

It was a joke.

Smile.

If they're dropping the charges,

I'm back in Carlo's will, right?

Same as before.

You and the daughter split the estate.

Not the house.

That's all mine.

Can't wait to kick her out, huh?

Oh, trust me.

I'm going to kick her ass so hard,

she won't need a plane to get back to Texas.

Ah...

There's the smile I was waiting for.

Mmm.

What is this called?

Pan dulce.

It's Mama's recipe.

I can make it for you anytime you want.

Well, not too often.

Something this good has got to be fattening.

Food is like lovemaking.

The better it is,

the more guilty you feel once you're finished.

Hmm?

Ma'am?

Your lawyers called.

The D.A. has dropped the charges against Rita.

She is being released today.

Thank God.

I mean...

I don't have to testify now.

That was making me nervous.

It's not right.

Just because Isabel took the blame,

doesn't mean Rita wasn't in cahoots with her.

Come on.

You still think she could kill somebody?

The detectives I hired in Texas

have uncovered all sorts of vile information about Rita.

And yes.

I think Rita is capable of anything.

So, if she should come here today...

She will.

And you let her in.

Baby?

What are you planning to do to Rita?

Something delicious,

and I won't feel guilty once I'm done.

Hello?

Grace, it's Alma.

I wanted to thank you

for suggesting that I run for club president.

I've decided to take your advice and...

Well, I'm hoping I can count on your vote.

Oh, dear.

What's wrong?

Joan is running, too, and

well, she would be so hurt if I didn't support her.

Well, I'm only running because you said I should.

I know.

But Joan has had such a rough year.

How so?

Well, her husband is always away on business.

And her son is not speaking to her now.

And she just had to fire her maid,

for stealing.

Oh. Poor Joan.

There's nothing worse than a maid you can't trust.

Grace, I've got to go.

Bye-bye.

Well.

Hello, stranger.

Good to see you.

Your father and I have been wondering

why you're ignoring our phone calls.

I've been wondering about some things, too.

Like what?

Like why is Mrs. Yost buried in our garden?

These are copies of the autopsy for the Castillo guy

and the lady who confessed to killing him.

- That was his maid, Isabel. - Right.

So, the millionaire died with two drugs in his system.

Uh, first an analgesic, which sedates and reduces pain;

The other was

potassium chloride.

So, I'm thinking that the maid

got him relaxed first, so he didn't feel any pain.

And then, she went in for the kill.

And she used the same combination to kill herself?

No. That's where it gets weird.

She didn't use an analgesic, just potassium chloride.

That is nasty stuff.

That's a horrible way to die.

- Doesn't make sense, does it? - No.

Listen, I got to go.

If the coroner finds out I'm talking to you...

Joe, wait.

Where would someone go to buy these drugs?

Well, any pharmacy could do it.

But you're going to need to be some kind of doctor

if you want to write a prescription.

If I may ask,

how did you happen to find Mrs. Yost?

Rocco was digging.

I walked over and...

Wh-What does it matter?

The question is, how did she get there?

Right. Well...

Do you remember the night I told you not to come home?

That your father and I needed to talk?

You were upset because Daddy was seeing another woman.

Yes, I was.

Wait.

Was it Mrs. Yost?

Yes.

Once I found out, I put a stop to it but...

When he told her it was over,

she ran over here in a drunken rage,

and she tried to kill me.

What?

Yes. Yes.

She, uh, she broke in.

And she ran upstairs, and threatened me,

with a knife, and I screamed.

And Bertie came up and he shoved her, hard.

And she fell out the window,

right on top of my gardening shears.

It was awful.

So, why didn't you call the police?

Bertie wanted to, but I panicked.

I was worried that he'd be arrested.

Please, you can't tell anyone.

Oh, Mom.

Our family's survival is at stake. Please.

You can't even tell Vern.

Vern is my husband.

He's also a detective,

with friends in law enforcement.

Uh, you'd be

you'd be putting him in a terrible position.

Okay.

Fine. I won't tell Vern,

or anyone.

But just because I'm willing to keep your secret

doesn't mean I'm not furious.

Yes. Oh.

You got yourself in a very stupid situation, Mother.

Yes, well...

No one ever said I was brilliant.

Oh. Rona.

Right.

Who have we got next?

I believe...

Mrs. Portman and her bloody poodle.

She's not coming.

I canceled the rest of your appointments today.

Why?

I'm sorry, but

if your patients see you like this,

all drunk and sloppy,

they might not come back.

Yes, you're right. I just...

I haven't been myself recently.

I'm so sorry.

You know what you need?

Some food and some good, strong coffee.

I'm going to need a little bit more than that.

I'm sorry.

You changed the locks?

Hello, Rita.

Take a seat.

This is my house.

I offer the seats around here,

and you can't have one.

Now, get out.

Jail hasn't been kind to your face.

A few weeks behind bars, and you look five years older.

I'm serious.

If you're not gone in ten minutes, I'll call the police.

You're a far cry from that pretty, young thing

that my father met in that El Paso whorehouse.

What are you talking about?

The letters you wrote to Isabel, back in Texas,

gave my detectives a lot of leads to follow.

What a colorful life you've led.

You had me investigated?

Yes.

And I know about your first marriage, back in Galveston.

Harry Jaworski.

Look familiar?

Hmm. Handsome fellow.

I'm impressed.

He beat me.

Is that why you shot him?

I didn't shoot him.

Isabel did.

Good old Isabel.

Always there to take the blame.

She's dead.

Yes, she is.

But sadly for you, Harry's not.

What?

I know. It's a miracle.

He survived the gunshot.

See?

And you know what else?

He never remarried.

And you never divorced him.

So, Harry is still your husband.

No. No.

Carlo was my husband.

Not legally.

So, the bequests he made for his wife,

it doesn't apply to you.

You get nothing.

Not the house, not the furniture.

Nothing.

But thanks for stopping by.

This isn't over.

My lawyer will have something to say.

Sure.

He'll say, "Where's my damn money, Rita?"

Catherine, stop it, please.

Scooter?

What are you doing here?

He lives here.

You told him he would someday.

Aren't you glad I made good on your promise?

You're with Catherine?

The news isn't all bad.

You thought you were a widow, and you're not.

Otto.

Show Mrs. Jaworski out.

I was so sorry to hear that Joan fired you.

She always accuses her maids of stealing.

I think it's because she loses things

and would rather hold the help responsible.

Not this time.

I stole, all right.

Straight out of her purse.

Well...

With what Joan pays you, who could blame you.

So what exactly is your game here, lady?

You don't know me from Adam.

Why do you care I got fired?

Aren't you delightfully blunt?

I'm running against Joan to be president of the Garden Club.

And you know how nasty these campaigns can be.

And you thought 'cause that snotty bitch fired me,

that I'd dish the dirt.

I have no interest in smearing Joan publicly.

But our last president was accused of murder.

We can't afford another scandal.

I'm just so worried

that Joan might have some nasty skeleton in her closet.

Honestly...

She's got a big one.

Miss Snooty is having an affair.

Don't know who the fella is,

but she sees him every Tuesday

and Friday afternoon at 1:30, on the dot.

Her husband thinks she's playing bridge,

but, uh, she's at the Sunset Palace Hotel.

How do you know the name of the hotel?

Her wallet's not all I found in her purse.

Well, all right.

Isn't today Friday?

Yeah. She'll be there.

Wonderful.

Would you like another cookie?

Welcome to Tanner Drugs.

My name is Yvonne.

- Can I help you? - I sure hope so.

I've talked to a dozen pharmacists today, and not one

of them has been able to give me the information I'm looking for.

Mr. Tanner's out today, but I'm his assistant.

What do you need, honey?

You got any record of a customer purchasing

both potassium chloride and phenobarbital?

That's an unusual combination.

I wouldn't have to check our records.

I'd remember something like that.

Is that a yes or a no?

Honey, that's confidential information.

Sharing that with a total stranger

is a bit risky.

I got a picture in my wallet of an American president.

I could give it to you.

Would that be worth the risk?

If it's a picture of Washington or Lincoln,

I wouldn't say boo.

But I get real talkative when Andrew Jackson comes to town.

Okay, Yvonne.

It's showtime.

There's this real big fella, awful nice.

He's been buying that combination of drugs for years.

- I need a name. - Fillcot.

He's a veterinarian.

And once, he brought me roses

from his wife's garden.

Wasn't that sweet?

I want to tell you about this guy I met.

He's a detective, like you.

But he's got one heck of a problem.

Anyone I know?

Let's pretend you don't.

Okay.

So, this guy's got a girl,

and he is crazy about her.

So what's the problem?

He's been investigating a murder.

And all the evidence he's uncovered,

well...

It's starting to point to his girl's father.

Hmm. Sounds like your friend

has a decision to make.

- So what would you do? - If I loved the girl?

I'd forget the evidence and never look back.

- Really? - But let's face it,

I've never been a Boy Scout.

There are other detectives, good men,

who wouldn't be able to look the other way.

Because that's how they're wired.

They came out of the womb wanting to do the right thing.

They believe in justice and honor.

All that crap.

But wouldn't a good man do everything he could

to protect his girl?

Maybe she loves him so much

because she knows he always plays it straight.

Maybe.

And if he's not sure, he could go talk to her.

But if she asked him to let a killer go free

would that change how he feels about her?

You're right.

This guy's got one heck of a problem.

Hello, Joan.

Rita.

I'd heard you were

back among us.

But, uh, I have a meeting, so we'll have to catch up later.

Before you leave, I, uh...

I have a favor to ask.

Do you still have that charming little guest room?

You want to stay in my house?

Carlo's daughter is contesting his will, so

until my lawyers can sort this thing out, I'm a bit

adrift.

Sorry, Rita, but I really must go.

Oh, for God's sake, I'm asking as a friend.

How long have you known me?

I've never known you.

I only knew the woman you pretended to be.

The grande dame who pushed us all around,

so we wouldn't know that she was just a whore who made good.

I see Catherine's been spreading her poison.

Well, it's classy of you not to deny it.

Can you at least loan me a few dollars?

I hate to ask,

but Catherine has all my bank accounts tied up.

I'm flat broke.

If only you had something to sell

that men still wanted to buy.

- Driver, go.

There you go.

You should have seen the look on that poor woman's face.

The rage and terror in her eyes

when she realized what was happening to her.

As you know, I've ended many lives.

It was the first time I ever felt like a murderer.

But you didn't murder her, Doc.

Your crazy missus did.

Alma was desperate.

The woman she killed was blackmailing her.

Please.

If she thought it'd get her into a better club,

she'd have killed two Girl Scouts and a nun.

Dad.

It's my daughter.

She mustn't see us together.

She won't.

Rona called,

said you'd been here all afternoon.

How much have you had to drink?

A little bit too much, I'm afraid.

God, I've missed you.

I've missed you, too, Daddy.

And I wanted to talk to you about Mrs. Yost.

This don't sound good.

What, what about Mrs. Yost?

Mom told me everything.

What?

She had to.

Because I found out Mrs. Yost is buried in our garden.

Whoa!

Barkeep, we're gonna need another round!

What are you doing here?

- I need my clothes and some money. - Aw, geez.

Wait, wait, wait.

I tried to borrow some from my friends,

but every door in town's been slammed in my face.

Thanks to Catherine's vicious gossip.

Oh, is it just gossip?

Or were you actually a prostitute?

You're a fine one to talk.

I'm a gigolo. That's different.

Just let me run into my dressing room.

I'm not scared of Catherine.

If she sees you, her butler's going to throw you out,

and then he's going to throw me out for letting you in.

I'll bring you some clothes later and cash.

When?

Meet me across from my old building at 9:00.

That's eight hours from now.

I haven't eaten all day.

Scooter?

- Where are you? - Ah...

- Here. Just, just go.

So

Your mother told you.

Mrs. Yost and I were lovers?

She also said Mrs. Yost went berserk

when you ended the affair.

And you pushed her out a window

to keep her from killing Mom.

You got to roll with this one, Doc.

It's too late to tell her the truth.

Yes, that's what happened.

I was trying to protect your mother.

That's good. Keep it simple.

Please stop.

What?

Sorry. Sorry, darling. Not you.

But we, we have to do something about the body, Dad.

Mrs. Yost can't stay buried in our yard

with a fountain for a headstone.

It's better than I got.

Your mother and I will take care of that.

I'd kill for a fountain.

- It's late. I got to go. - Oh...

I want you to know,

in spite of everything,

I still love you.

And I love you, more than ever.

Could you see to it my dad gets home okay?

I'm worried about him.

Sure thing.

Hello?

Mrs. Fillcot, it's Vern.

I need to talk to you as soon as possible.

About what?

Did Dee speak with you?

Uh, no. I haven't seen her all day.

But I'm working a case,

and I could use your help.

Well, I don't have time to talk

right now... I'm late for a party.

This is important.

Maybe we could talk afterwards?

I won't be home till all hours.

Maybe we can chat tomorrow or next week.

I'll call you.

This can't wait.

Well, hello, my darling.

Oh. Hey.

What are you doing with Rita's clothes?

I'm giving them to charity.

Rita is going to end up on skid row soon.

So, I thought it might cheer her up

to see some hobos wearing her gowns.

Geez. You already won.

Why do you always got to twist the knife?

And why must you always take her side?

And why did you come to her room?

I'm

starving.

Yeah, I-I was wondering

if Otto could get dinner started.

Go on.

I'll finish here.

Uh, actually...

I was hoping you could make your pan dulce for dessert.

But you just had that for breakfast.

Come on. Please.

You're such a naughty child.

Alma.

- You're here.

Tell me, where is that dear husband of yours?

Busy, busy. Some vet emergency.

I see you brought your husband.

Oh, Ed is such a homebody.

I'm surprised he even came.

Well, he probably just wants to keep an eye on you.

Oh, there's our hostess.

I should go say hi. Mavis?

What a lovely party.

Absolutely everyone is here.

I know.

And they're all buzzing about the same thing.

What's that?

Well, if the rumors are true,

Rita Castillo used to be a whore.

Well, no one thought that she married Carlo for love.

No, no, no, no.

Not a gold digger, an actual prostitute.

In Texas, which somehow makes it worse.

Who told you this?

Carlo's daughter

hired a detective to look into Rita's past.

Oh, excuse me. New arrival.

Lu, ah! Have you heard the latest?

It's awful, and I can't wait to tell you.

Thank you.

That seat is taken.

Oh, I won't be long.

Well...

I'm sorry, it's just...

I feel as if my entire life has led up to this moment,

and it's...

It's overwhelming.

What are you babbling about?

You are about to make a speech

telling everyone that you plan to drop out of the race

for presidency of the Garden Club.

And

that you intend to endorse my candidacy.

- Hmm. - Just how drunk are you?

Not drunk.

Happy.

Sublime, even.

You see, I am finally in control of my own destiny.

I never have been, you know.

Not until this very moment.

Pam is here.

I'm going to say hi.

Oh, we're not done here.

Who do you think you're talking to?

I think...

I'm talking to a patron of the Sunset Palace Hotel.

Yes.

I know all about you and Grace.

I don't know what you've heard.

I was there.

I saw you.

Please, don't tell anyone.

If this got out...

You'd be humiliated, and your husband would divorce you.

Oh, don't worry.

I won't breathe a word.

Thank you.

So, you'll make the announcement then?

I-I jus... I just need to, um

go to the ladies' room first.

Yes, of course.

Go. Have a good cry. Get it all out.

We can't have you breaking down in front of people.

I never thought you could be so ruthless.

Oh.

Neither did I.

To be honest, I'm...

I'm rather impressed with myself.

We need to talk.

Follow me.

Darling.

Hey. I just got to run to the store.

But dinner's almost ready.

I'll be back in two shakes.

I can get the car. We can follow him,

find out who he is meeting.

I know who he's meeting.

Honey.

You home?

I need to talk.

It's real important.

Vern?

Well, uh, first...

I'm sure we all want to thank our hostess for a lovely party.

Elegant as always, Mavis.

Yes.

Uh, I also need to

drop a little bombshell.

Ladies.

I've decided not to run for Garden Club president.

- Oh, no.

My personal life has become,

uh, rather complicated.

So, I'm-I'm stepping back.

But I would like to take this moment

to endorse...

Alma Fillcot for the job.

I absolutely think she has what it takes to

hold a position of power.

Thank you.

Don't think you should be driving, Mr. Fillcot.

Let me call you a cab?

It's a lovely night.

I'll walk.

But...

It would be lovelier

if I could have a drop more liquid refreshment

to sample on the way home.

Would you fill me up?

I think you've had enough.

It was worth a shot.

Hello, Mrs. Fillcot.

We need to talk.

Scooter.

You came.

Did you think I'd just abandon you?

I wasn't sure.

Everyone else has.

I got you some clothes.

And, uh, some cash.

Whatever I could lay my hands on.

It's enough to get me by.

At least until I figure out my next move.

I-I should get back.

Catherine's got me on a tight leash.

Take care.

Does she make you happy?

Sure.

She's real nice to me.

I wasn't always so nice, was I?

No, baby.

You weren't.

I know you're a good person.

It's just you're...

You're pretty complicated.

Did I ever tell you I grew up poor?

My whole family was treated like trash.

So, one day I asked God to make me rich and beautiful.

So people would envy me.

'Cause that's the only time folks treat you right.

When you got something they want.

I suppose that's true.

But when I was sitting in jail,

I realized that God gave me everything I wanted,

just so he can take it all away.

He wanted to teach me a lesson.

What lesson?

No one is truly beautiful

until they learn to love unselfishly.

And those who receive such love

are the richest people of all.

Oh, baby. I...

You know, I...

I did love you.

I still do.

For what it's worth.

It's worth quite a lot.

Well, it is what we had feared.

Shall we go?

I can have his things removed from the house within the hour.

No.

I must see him.

So what's your next move?

Well, I'm leaving L.A.

I'm not sure where I'll end up.

But I know Rita Castillo ain't coming with me.

Oh, geez.

I-I know what this looks like.

I-I just came to help a pal who's down on her luck.

After everything she's done to me?

I begged for his help.

He took pity on me.

That's all this is.

Maybe we should go somewhere and sit down.

Uh, just talk this out.

So you can tell me more lies?

No.

I'm sick of lies.

I'm sick of liars.

Catherine!

For God's sake, what are you doing?

My God.

She's trying to take you from me, like she did my papa.

That's ridiculous.

Catherine, please don't do this.

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