All language subtitles for MSW - S09E02 - Family Secrets-1

Hello? Is anyone there?

I'll tell you the whole story.

One thing's for sure. It's gonna shake
this town right down to the ground.

I strongly suggest
you not write that book.

You left out the "Or else."

Something terribly wrong
happened here 30 years ago.

The truth is rarely popular.
Sometimes it's downright dangerous.

Then we'll just have
to stop him, won't we?

Would someone like to tell me what all
of this Mad Maggie business is all about?

The inquest ruled it accidental
but there's always been some doubt.

This isn't even about us anymore.
It's about you and your father.

Owen Cooper was killed by a
shotgun blast at point-blank range.

Mrs. Fletcher...
Mrs. Fletcher...

Oh, I'm sorry, Arnold. I guess
it's getting to be that time.

I'm afraid so. Yeah. Still
looking for that perfect poison?

Oh, yes. I know it's
here somewhere.

Deadly, exotic. Virtually
impossible to detect.

Until the murderer gets
caught on the last page.

Oh, you've been
reading my books.

I'll just gather
my stuff together.

Oh, no hurry. I just wanted
you to know that I'm leaving.

Just be sure and lock
up when you're finished.

Oh, fine. Thank you,
Arnold. I'll do that.

Good night, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, good night, Arnold.

See you tomorrow, Arnold.

Randy Sloan? Oh, my
goodness. You surprised me.

Mrs. Fletcher. I'm sorry. I
didn't mean to startle you.

Oh, that's quite all right. I just
didn't know that anyone was here.

I didn't know that you
were back in Cabot Cove.

Oh, you're a fine friend. Not even
telephoning your favorite teacher?

I just got in this
afternoon. I meant to call,

but I stopped off here first. I
got so lost in these old files,

I guess I just got
oblivious to everything.

Same old Randy. So
what brings you back?

Last I heard, you were working
on a Portland newspaper...

Portland Gazette. Still am. But I'm
chasing a story of my own right now.

Oh! What's the story about?

Well, I tell you what,
it's getting kind of late.

How about if I fill you in on
everything over breakfast? My treat.

Deal. Be sure to
bring your clips.

I want to know what you've been
up to since you left high school.

Here you go.

This stuff is strong enough
to jump start your heart.

Sally, I am just going
to have pigs in a blanket.

Give me just a minute, Mrs. Hanson.
I will be right back to take your order.

If I don't get a coffee fix
over to Sam Talbot right away,

you are going to hear yelling and
screaming like you have never heard before.

Come on, Sally.
How about my refill?

Hi, Sally.

Randy, hi! I didn't know
you were back in town.

I just got in yesterday. Listen,
what time do you get off work?

Me? 6:00. Why?

I have to see you.
6:00 could be fine.

Well, I don't have...

Please. I do have to see you.

I'm sorry, Randy,
but I have plans.

And for this one I went undercover
at a company engaged in mail fraud.

The story got me
three death threats,

and an award for best
investigative story of the year.

That is wonderful.
You know, Randy,

I can't tell you how
proud I am of you.

You know, back in high school,
I always knew you had talent,

but it takes more than that
to become a good reporter.

It takes determination,
persistence, ingenuity...

How about luck?

Oh, I don't think that luck
has anything to do with that.

And knowing your work as I do...

More coffee, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, yes! Thank you.

Sally, I really do
have to talk to you.

I already said no.

6:00. After you're
finished work.

I'm sorry but I'm working two
jobs, and with school at night,

I really don't have
time for anything else.

So, you mentioned last
night that you'd tell me today

about why you've come
back to Cabot Cove.

A story of your own, you said?

Not just a story. A book.

Oh, that's wonderful.
What's it about?

Mad Maggie.

You mean, Margaret Babbington?

Only the most famous
scandal this little town ever saw.

That's over 30 years ago.

Good stories never die.

Oh! That's why you were digging through
all those old town records last night.

Births, deaths, land deeds,
business transactions.

I want to know everything.

Details, details, details, as befits the
bloodiest killing in Cabot Cove history.

Yes, but why? I mean, that story
must've been gone over a hundred times.

As I recall, there was
nothing extraordinary about it.

I mean, there's no
mystery about who did it.

Let's just say I've dug
up a new angle on it.

Oh? Like what?

Not yet. I still have a few
more things I have to confirm.

But once I have all the facts in
place, I'll tell you the whole story.

One thing's for sure. It's gonna shake
this town right down to the ground.

Well, I've only seen strychnine
poisoning a couple of times, Jess.

But I have heard that convulsions
will sometimes leave the corpse

with a kind of
grimace on the face.

Mrs. Fletcher!

Oh! Hi, Sheriff. Come on
in. We're in the dining room.

Doc.

Sheriff. Nice day.

Says you.

Oh! You have a problem?

I've got some newspaper guy
from Portland driving me crazy.

He wants to dig
into all my old files.

Randall Sloan.

Yeah. How did you...

Never mind. So listen.

Would someone like to tell me what all
of this Mad Maggie business is all about?

Well, tragedy, mostly.

Years ago, Margaret Babbington

and her cousin, Emily
Weymouth, and their fiancés,

Owen Cooper and George Latimer, went
hunting in the woods somewhere up north.

Margaret and Owen
drifted away from the other

two, and there was
some sort of a quarrel.

Owen Cooper was killed by a
shotgun blast at point-blank range.

The inquest ruled it accidental
but there's always been some doubt.

Now, the Babbington family
has been rather well known

in Cabot Cove for some years.

So naturally the newspapers
made a big thing of it.

It was really very sad. I mean, Owen's
death undid Margaret completely.

She was judged insane,
committed to a mental institution,

and died a short time later.

It sounds like an
open-and-shut case to me.

So why is this guy digging so
hot and heavy into it after 30 years?

And with construction costs pegged
so low we'll get the whole thing,

the wharf, the restaurant and
six stores up for two million three.

Then we just nudge the rents up
by eight percent every two years.

Well, what do you think, George?

I guess it sounds okay.

You guess? We'll be doing
nothing but counting money.

Okay, let me take another look at the
numbers, and I'll get back to you tomorrow.

Good. I'll talk to you then.

You know, you could have
at least paid some attention.

What for?

You didn't need
me. You had them.

Jumping through hoops as always.

I thought that was all over. I'm
not saying Sally's not a nice girl,

but she's not right for you.

You had no business starting
up with her in the first place.

Oh, wait a minute...

I know, you think you're in
love. We've had this conversation.

But you got to be
reasonable about these things.

Come on, Neal. Lots of other girls in Cabot
Cove, and from the right families, too.

Janet Weymouth, for example.
Why don't you start taking her out?

'Cause I've never
been big on frostbite.

Well, we need more information.

Maybe we can find out something
over here at the farmers' sale.

Oh! Isn't that Janet Weymouth?

Oh! Hi, Janet. How are you?

I'm fine. And how's your mother?

Not so good, I'm afraid. She
doesn't even go out of the house.

It's not good.

I know. She hardly
sees anyone anymore.

And now that I have my
own apartment in town,

practically the only
time we see each other

is when we have dinner
on Thursday nights.

She asked about you the
other day, Mrs. Fletcher.

If you could find
some time to stop by...

I'd love to do that.

And as long as I'm pushing,
about the luncheon this afternoon?

Oh, I haven't forgotten. I'm
very much in favor of anything

to get that community
center built. I'll be there.

Great. I'll see you later.

Another fund raiser?

Yes!

Well, I'm not going. I'll
spend money, I know it.

I can just feel the cash
sliding out of my wallet now.

Hello?

Yes, that's the
one. Randall Sloan.

He's asked to see me.

No, I didn't say anything.

Tell me, my dear,
after all this time,

why does he want to
talk to me about Maggie?

Then we'll just have
to stop him, won't we?

Hello, Mother. I see
you're up and around.

There's much to be done.

Don't I know it. There never
seems to be enough time.

What was that
about Randall Sloan?

Do you know him?

We went to high school together.
He was a year ahead of me. Why?

What kind of a young man is he?

Well, I really didn't know him very
well. He was always into books, studying.

After he graduated, I heard he went to
Portland and became a newspaper reporter.

Why all the sudden
interest in Randall Sloan?

It's nothing important.

I take it you've finished
preparations for the luncheon?

All taken care of.

You are coming, aren't you?

I'm sorry, Janet.
I'm really not up to it.

They'll be disappointed.

We must all learn to live
with disappointment, Janet.

It's an imperfect world. Sometimes
a considerably imperfect world.

Are there any more
contributions for the building fund?

You're a true friend,
Sara. Thank you.

So, how was lunch?

Oh, it was very nice. Thanks.

Good. 'Cause it's
going to cost you.

Oh, I know. It's
already done that.

Not that I'm complaining,
mind you, I'm just...

Complaining. I know.

Well, yes. Complaining.
That puts it nicely.

Not that I haven't always wanted
an antique stuffed moose head,

but after paying all that money,

you'd think the least they could
do is throw in the rest of the moose.

Seth, it's for a good cause.

Sally, I forgot to ask
you at breakfast time.

How is your night school going?

Oh, fine. My marks are up, and I'm
saving money from the two jobs I'm working.

So, another semester and I'll
be able to go back to college.

The oldest living junior
in the state of Maine.

Good for you.

But I'm going to do it and I'm going
to make some kind of life for myself.

If you'll excuse me.

If you have any complaints about
lunch, you'll have to see the manager.

Come on, Sally,
I just want to talk.

Sorry, Neal, I'm all talked out.

All I'm asking is
that you be patient.

I'm going to work things out. I
know you don't believe it but...

I'm gonna do it. I promise.

It seems to me I've
heard this before.

You know, sometimes I think
this isn't even about us anymore,

it's about you and your father.

And which of you gets to
decide what happens to my life.

That's not fair. Maybe not.

But talk is cheap, Neal. And
I have to get on with my life.

The alternative
is just too painful.

Ladies, gentlemen. First
of all, thank you for coming.

The checks have been added, and combined
with the seed money donated by my mother,

Emily Weymouth, well, let's
just say that at this moment

the new Cabot Cove community
center is at last a reality.

Folks, folks. We regret that
Emily couldn't be with us today,

but on behalf of the building
commission I'm proud to announce

that the new building will be
named the Emily Weymouth Center.

Thank you, Mr. Latimer.
That's very thoughtful.

I'm sure my mother
will be pleased.

The blind auction winners can pick up
their new items Friday at the town hall.

And don't forget to collect
your door prizes on the way out.

Thank you again.

Randall! Hi.

Janet Weymouth.

Of course. You haven't
changed a bit since high school.

Just ten years
older, that's all.

I'd heard you were in town.

Are you covering
the fund raiser?

No. Not exactly. I'm...

I'm researching a book. I'm writing
about the Margaret Babbington case.

Margaret Babbington? Why on earth
would you be interested in something

that happened so long ago?

I'm sorry. I have to go.

Mr. Sloan, hi! Hi there.
I'm George Latimer.

I couldn't help overhearing
about your book.

Margaret Babbington was
one of my closest friends.

I've done my homework,
Mr. Latimer. I know that.

30 years ago, the media
turned it into a circus.

Now, this book of yours is going
to make it circus time all over again.

Now, is there anything I can
say to talk you out of writing it?

No. I'm afraid not.

I don't get it. What's so important
about a 30-year-old tragedy?

Nothing, if it was only a
question of going over old territory.

But I've got a whole new slant.

And once I have all
the pieces in place,

it is going to knock
Cabot Cove on its ear.

I'm on the trail of something that no
one else knows, except maybe you.

I strongly suggest
you not write that book.

You left out the "Or else."

You're making a big mistake. You're
buying more trouble than you can handle.

Very serious trouble.

Is that a threat?

It's more than a
threat. It's a promise.

I can wait, if you'd like.

Oh, no, thank you,
Seth. I'll be fine.

Well, you can tell me what you find.
From the look of it, it must be some place.

Have you ever been inside?

Oh, hardly anyone ever goes in
there now. She wants it that way.

Oh, Emily. I wish you
could have been there.

You know, this new community center is
going to mean so much to the young people.

Oh, I'm glad.

But you will be there for the
ground breaking ceremony?

No, no. I don't think so.

I'm sure Janet will
tell me all about it.

She keeps me up to date on
most of the news from town.

Then I take it you know about...

Randall Sloan? Yes.

He's a former student
of yours, isn't he?

Yes. One that I'm very proud of.

I know that he looks
up to you. Respects you.

So perhaps you might have
some influence with him.

About what?

I was hoping that you might be able to
persuade him not to write this book of his.

Oh, Emily, I'm
afraid I can't do that.

Jessica, Margaret Babbington wasn't just
my cousin, she was my very best friend.

I loved her dearly. The
incident was tragedy enough,

and then all those hideous front
page stories and TV cameras

poking everywhere.

Hasn't poor Margaret
suffered enough?

This book will drag her memory
through that all over again.

Why would anyone
want to do that?

It serves no useful purpose.

Emily, I've known
Randy for over 10 years.

He's very determined, stubborn,
obsessed with finding the truth.

He's a born reporter, but I don't believe
he has a malicious bone in his body.

Then why?

All I know is that he
wouldn't be doing this

unless there was something
very important at stake.

You're assuming the
worst, but Emily, isn't

it possible that he
might be onto something

that could clear
Margaret's name?

No. No good ever came out
of what happened that day.

No good ever will.

Perhaps if you sat
down with Randy, Emily,

and you could talk
about all of this.

He's been asking to
see me, but I've refused.

I've gotten quite
used to being alone.

I don't feel comfortable
with visitors.

In fact, I never see anyone
anymore, except Janet.

Oh? I thought I saw George
Latimer leaving just as I arrived.

Oh! Yes. George...

He just came to talk
about the fund raising.

George was a good friend
of Margaret's, too, wasn't he?

Yes. Margaret...

George, Owen, we
were all so close.

You're right, Jessica. Perhaps I
should see this young man after all.

How's it going?

Just fine, Arnold. Thanks.

You know, everyone in town is
talking about you and your book.

Even money says it's
gonna be a best seller.

Well, I think I should write
it first, and then we'll see.

Something else, Arnold?

You know, I was just
remembering how we would take

all those writing classes
together, you know.

We'd always share notes and talk about
how we were both going to make it big time.

And you went off to Portland to
become a hotshot reporter while I...

Well...

You know... Arnold.

We earn our big breaks.
This is mine. Yours will come.

Huh?

Yeah.

Hello, Arnold.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.

Is something wrong?

Not a thing, Mrs. Fletcher.
Not an ever-loving thing.

Hello, Randy.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher. Why didn't you tell
me that writing a book was this tough?

I know just how you feel.

Is everything else all right?

Yeah. No. I don't know.

Well, I guess that
just about covers it.

It's just... This hasn't been
much of a homecoming.

I mean, everyone's either
mad at me or won't talk to me,

and now Arnold's got
his nose out of joint

because I won't let him
co-write the book with me.

Well, I'm sure you realize how
many feathers you're ruffling in town

with your book.

Yeah, I know. But
that doesn't bother me.

I don't care how many
people line up against me.

Mrs. Fletcher, you're the
best teacher I ever had.

And the most important
thing that you ever taught me

is that once you uncover a
truth that's been hidden away,

you have to keep
chasing it, no matter what.

Something terribly wrong happened here 30
years ago, and I've almost got it nailed.

Just a few more pieces
and I've got it all tied up.

Randy, just remember.
The truth is rarely popular.

In fact, sometimes it's
downright dangerous.

Be fair, be accurate,
and above all, be careful.

Neal. What can I do for you?

Well, you could ask
me in, for starters.

Thanks. Forget it.

Please. No phony
"Nice to see you," okay?

I don't like you,
you don't like me.

Not in grade school, not
in high school, not now.

What do you want?

I heard about the argument
you had with my father.

I came to try to smooth things out.
I'm sorry if he came on too strong.

And I'd like to ask you to think
about what he said and reconsider.

Reconsider?

Nothing good's going to
come of this book, Randall.

You're only going to make a lot of
enemies, a lot of powerful enemies.

Nothing ever changes,
does it? All grown up

and still running
errands for your father.

I'm trying to do you a favor,
but you're too pigheaded to see it.

If you're smart, you'll get on the
next plane and go back to Portland,

because after
that all bets are off.

That suits me right
down to the ground, Neal.

That's funny. The door's open. Randy said
he'd lock up when he finished last night.

Well, he told me I should
meet him here first thing.

Maybe he got here early.

Maybe he just forgot to lock up.

Randy? You here?

I just heard. Oh, my
Lord! How did this happen?

Well, that's what
we're trying to find out.

They found him like
that a half an hour ago.

What was the cause of death?

Blows to the head,
by the look of it.

I'd say with a blunt instrument.

Well, I better see what's
taking the coroner so long.

You know, Randy had a big, heavy
paperweight. I saw it here the other day.

Andy, check around for a large
paperweight. See if you guys can find it.

Are you all right, Sally?

I'm okay, I guess.

Oh, it's very upsetting.

We just came in,
and there he was.

Yeah, I know. You just come
in to open up, right, Arnold?

What about you, Sally?
Why were you here so early?

Randy had been
pestering me to see him.

I agreed, and he told me to
meet him here at the library.

What did he want
to see you about?

I don't know. He was always coming
on to me, asking personal questions.

I thought it was just another
way for a guy to come on to a girl.

Early morning in a
public library hardly seems

the place for
romantic overtures.

I mean, there must have
been some other reason.

So, Arnold, I wanna
bother you, now.

You said you left last night at seven as
usual, and the deceased was still alive?

Yeah. That's right. Randy had
a habit of working at odd hours,

so I just asked him to lock up.

Where'd you go after you left?

Wait. You don't think I had
anything to do with this, do you?

Right now, I'm asking
questions. Where did you go?

Well, I went home.
Alone, as usual.

But look, I couldn't have done it. Randy
was my friend, and I didn't have a reason.

That's curious, you know. Randy's
research notes don't seem to be here.

That's impossible. Randy
always kept everything with him

in that briefcase he
always carried around.

Well, that's not here, either.

Any idea what might
have been in those notes?

Well, I don't know. I assume it
had something to do with his book.

Which give us two possibilities.

Someone who wanted to stop
that book from being written,

or write it himself.

Sheriff! Take a
look at this key.

I think you ought to see this.

I wanna see if you can
lift some prints off of it.

I'll try, Sheriff, but it's pretty smudged
from where he was laying on it.

Well, try anyway.

Arnold, is this a library key?

Oh, no. I've never
seen that key before.

I wonder what it opens.

Well, assuming it fell out of the
victim's pocket, it might be his room key.

Well, yes. That is an
obvious assumption.

Well, there's one way to
find out. Let's get it dusted.

They weren't able to find any prints
on this, but maybe we'll get lucky.

No.

Stand back, Mrs. F.

Hold it right there!

Neal?

Well, Mrs. F, you were wondering
what happened to those research notes,

I think we just found the link.

Oh, Sally...

I'm sorry for coming over
here like this without calling first,

but I'm really worried, Mrs.
Fletcher, and I need your help.

Oh, come inside, dear.

The Sheriff's trying to find evidence
to tie Neal to Randy's murder.

You know, Neal and I, we've had
our ups and downs, but I love him,

and I know he could
never hurt anyone.

Please, Mrs. Fletcher. Isn't
there anything we can do?

Well, we can certainly try. Not only
for you and Neal but also for Randy.

Sit down.

You know when
Randy was my student,

I always encouraged
him to follow the truth,

but I'm afraid I have
reason to believe that

the truth that he
found is what killed him.

But Randy wasn't only my
student, he was my friend,

and something will
be done about it.

But where do we start?

With you. Now, you
said that he wanted to see

and talk to you about
some personal things.

What kind of personal things?

Nothing important. Just stuff
about me growing up in Portland.

And I didn't want to talk about
it. Not with Randy or anyone else.

It's not that interesting growing up in
an orphanage, not that special, either.

The first time in my life I ever remember
being happy was when I was adopted

by the Bates. And I moved here
to Cabot Cove when I was 10.

Did he ask you
anything particular?

Not really.

He just wanted to know everything
about my early days in Portland

and to take a look at
some my personal stuff.

Papers, pictures,
things like that.

Sally, could you bring some of
those personal papers here to me?

I take it the bail
money arrived in time?

It did. Thanks.

Are you going to tell me why you
were searching that guy's room?

I think I have a
pretty good idea.

You were trying to
protect me, weren't you?

No.

Neal, all these years
you've never lied to me.

All right. Okay. Yes.

Look, I didn't know what kind of
secrets Randy dug up for that book of his

but I didn't want
it to hurt you.

You were willing to
go to jail to protect me?

I never told you the full story of
what happened that day, 30 years ago.

I guess it's about time I did.

You don't have to, Dad.

No, no, no. I want to.

We were all very close.

Emily, Margaret and Owen and me.

We used to go everywhere
together, do everything together.

Just the four of us.

One afternoon we were out in the
woods, north of town, bird hunting.

We'd become separated. I went
off to find Margaret and Owen.

I didn't see them at first but I
could hear voices raised in anger.

When I finally located them I
made the mistake of thinking it was

j just another lovers' quarrel.
I didn't want to intrude.

I heard Owen insisting that
their relationship was over.

Then something started
to happen to Margaret.

A craziness I'd
never seen before.

She was begging
him not to leave her.

Then suddenly I saw her love
turn to hatred and then to fury.

She picked up Owen's shotgun.

Owen!

No!

The horror of what she'd
done completely unhinged her.

By the time I got her back
to Emily, she was gone.

She'd retreated into some
dark corner of her mind,

she never came out again.

I lied at the inquest. I said it was an
accident, that she had been loading the gun

when it went off.

Margaret was totally insane by
that time, not even able to stand trial.

It was better left that way.

I tried to get Randall Sloan
to forget about his book,

because I didn't want the memory

of a dear friend dragged
through the dirt again.

That is the truth. All of it.

I didn't have anything to do with
Owen Cooper's death 30 years ago,

and I didn't have anything
to do with Sloan's death now.

All right, Jess, what is it? I can
practically see the wheels turning.

Listen, Seth, you said yourself
that there was always talk

that Margaret Babbington's
accident was more than that,

that she killed Owen
in a lovers' argument.

Yes, I've heard that all
along. Nothing new there.

Except... Except that the one question
that she was never able to answer was why?

What would prompt a woman
to kill the man that she loved?

Maybe he was trying
to break up with her.

Perhaps, but she'd gone
through other relationships.

No, there was something
different at work here,

some reason that made
her react with anger and fear.

Good pie, Jess.

Operator.

Yes, Operator, I want a
phone number in Portland.

It's the Cumberland
County Sanitarium, please.

Administration, Bailey.

Hello, Mr. Bailey, my name
is Jessica Fletcher and...

J.B. Fletcher? The
writer from Cabot Cove?

Yes.

Well, uh, what can I do for you?

I was wondering if you
could possibly check

the Sanitarium's records
for, say, 30 years back.

A Margaret Babbington died
while she was a patient there.

Could you tell me what
was the cause of death?

I will check. We just put all those
records on microfilm. Two seconds.

Seth!

Ah!

Yes, thank you very
much, Mr. Bailey,

you've been very helpful.

So?

Seth, Margaret
Babbington died in childbirth.

There was a baby. That's what Randy
found out. That's why he was killed.

Good heavens, do you
know what this means?

You knew, didn't
you, Emily? You were

Margaret's cousin as
well as her best friend.

You knew she was pregnant, you
knew that Owen Cooper was the father,

you knew that's what
they were fighting about,

and you knew that's
why Margaret killed him.

And you also knew that Margaret
died in the sanitarium in childbirth.

And you kept that a secret, too.

Yes. It was an act of
kindness and compassion.

I loved Margaret.

I didn't want her child to live with
the stigma of her mother's crime.

So I made sure that the
record of birth was kept secret.

Surely you... You can't
think that I killed him?

You said that Randy
wanted to see you,

and he came to
the house, didn't he?

Yes, he came on the same
night that he was murdered.

I didn't want that book written.

And I couldn't bear the thought of
Margaret's memory being dragged

through all that
dirt all over again.

I offered him a
check of $100,000

if he would just go away
and forget the whole thing.

But he refused.

I hated him for that.
But I didn't kill him.

You do believe me, don't you?

As it happens, Emily,
yes, yes, I do believe you.

From what I saw at the scene,
whoever it was who killed Randy

was quick, and
athletic, and fairly strong.

All that pain, all those lies,

now it seems they've
all come home to roost.

I'm afraid I can't offer
you any milk today.

Janet forgot to bring some
when she stopped by on Thursday.

Thursday? Oh, no matter, Emily. I'm afraid
I won't be able to stay for tea today.

There's somebody
that I have to see.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

What are you doing here?

Waiting for you.

Me? Why?

Because I know now
who killed Randy Sloan.

You don't mean me?

Come on, why would I...

Because of the secret that Randy
discovered during his research.

I'm sorry, I don't know what you're
talking about, so if you don't mind...

Randy went to see your mother
the night that he was murdered.

On Thursday night, the same night that
you stop by her house for dinner each week.

$100,000 sure is a lot of money.

But I'm afraid there's no deal.

That's probably more
money than you've ever seen

at one time in your entire life.

You're a very foolish young man.

You're probably right, but
that doesn't change anything.

Something terribly
wrong happened here,

and I'm going to make
sure that it's made right.

Margaret Babbington was pregnant
when she was committed to that sanitarium.

The child was put up for adoption,
and all the records were sealed.

Well, I've cut through all those sealed
records and I know who that child is.

Who knows this besides you?

No one. I haven't
told anyone yet.

Good. And I don't want
you to. Here, take this.

And I'll double it, $200,000.

300,000.

Mrs. Weymouth, you
don't have enough money.

If you'll excuse me.

All right, so I overheard
a conversation

between Randy and
my mother. So what?

This book of Randy's
had nothing to do with me.

I hardly knew Randy, I
had no reason to kill him.

I think you had a
very good reason.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher, this
conversation is getting a little tiresome.

Whatever it is you think
you've come up with,

you'll never be able to
prove anything, anyway.

I think I can.

May I?

This is your apartment
and your key.

This key was found
under Randy's body.

It could only have accidentally
been dropped there by his killer.

After overhearing Randy's
conversation with your mother,

you followed him back
here to the library, didn't you?

Yes, I just... I just wanted to talk some
sense into him. But he wouldn't listen.

Every dime I have is from the
Babbington side of the family.

If word got out that Margaret had a child,
we'd have lost the entire inheritance.

We'd be ruined. I offered
him everything, anything.

But he refused.

Yes.

And then?

And then I...

And then I...

It was as if I'd lost touch with
reality. My head was swimming.

All I could feel was a
terrible hatred for him

and for what he was doing
to me and to my family.

I didn't know what I was doing.

I just knew I was terrified
of losing everything

and I couldn't let that
happen. I just couldn't.

And that was the secret
that Randy discovered.

That you were Margaret
Babbington's daughter,

and thus inherited
her entire estate.

Your story was going to be
the centerpiece of his book.

I still can't believe it.
I mean, all that land...

And the estate, it must be
worth over a million dollars.

Or more like three. No more doing
two jobs to go to night school, either.

I imagine that you and Neal
have some catching up to do.

Oh, but his father...

Has come a long way in a
very short time. Run along.

That looks like one Cabot Cove
romance that will be resuming.

Yes, it's funny, you know.
When Randy was my student,

I taught him that whatever the
literary establishment may think,

the best stories always
have happy endings.

And I think he got it.

Oh, yeah.