All language subtitles for MSW s02e19 Christopher Bundy Died On Sunday.eng

My first short story in a girlie magazine?
Good heavens!

[Woman]
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

There's a great book
in this family, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Bundy Publications represent exposure.
- They certainly do.

I'll see you rot in Hades before
you get my publishing house, Bundy!

- [Gasps]
- He's dead.

Are you telling me
the butler did it?

We don't know what we're dealing with,
and, until we do, you do as I tell you.

As soon as your nephew returns,
I want you both off my property.

Get Lieutenant Greco
and bring him back here.

I think I've figured out
who killed Mr. Bundy.

[Man]
Uh-huh, right.

No, I don't think so.

Oh, yes, I do understand.

I disagree.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Oh, yes. Yes.

Well, let's not complicate
a simple thing, Mr. Harrison.

You owe me the money
that you borrowed.

It's Friday evening. If the money's
not repaid by 8:00 p.m. Sunday,

I own your publishing company.

Good night.

[Sighs]
Bert.

Yes, sir?

Chester Harrison seems to be having
a hard time understanding the situation.

Pay him a visit.

Clear things up.

Right.

[Clears Throat]

Something?

The Fletcher woman-
she called six times today.

I spoke to the lawyers.

Her contract locks her in.

She won't be a problem.

Literary Lines Monthly-
now there is a misnomer.

Anatomical maybe.
Literary? Never.

AuntJess, believe me.
I had no idea.

Oh, Grady. My first short story
in a girlie magazine?

Look. Most of the staff
is ready to quit, me included.

Literary Monthly's
always been a class act.

I mean, selling it to Christopher Bundy.
Who- Nobody knew. Honest.

Well, Christopher Bundy-
I mean, that man has made a fortune pandering to people's weaknesses.

What if he isn't home?

We'll try again on our way back
from Poughkeepsie.

Oh, by the way.
Thanks, Grady, for coming with me.

I hope this isn't interfering with any plans
you had for the weekend.

Oh. You mean Cynthia?

Well, actually, we're not
seeing each other anymore.

Oh?

As a matter of fact, AuntJess,
I'm reformed. Really?

Yeah. No more falling in love again
at first sight.

From now on, I'm gonna take my time
and get to know someone first...

and then commit myself.

Thank you.

Mr. Bundy is expected back
from the city momentarily, Mr. Fletcher.

May I get something for you
or, uh, your mother?

Uh, his aunt.
And, no, thank you. Very good, ma'am.

[Shutter Clicking]
[Grady] Oh, my. Wow.

Well, I see your new resolution hasn't
dimmed your eyesight any, Grady.

What? Hmm?
[Helicopter Approaching]

Mr. Bundy!

Hello, Millicent.
Hi, Mr. Bundy.

Finish the session?
Well, no, not yet, but-

Get back to the grind, honey.
Time is money. Time is money.

But, Mr. Bundy, the cement
by the swimming pool is so hot...

that my feet are- ow-
starting to get blis- Hello! Hello!

With what I pay you,
buy a case of ointment. Mr. Bundy?

Mr. Bundy.
Yes. How nice to see you again.

Mr. Bundy.
I'm Jessica Fletcher.

[Horse Neighs In Distance]

[Chuckles]
Mrs. Fletcher. What a delightful surprise.

I wasn't expecting to see you.

I'm sure you weren't.
You know, if you had returned my telephone calls,

this intrusion would not
have been necessary.

My apologies, dear lady.
It seems everybody always needs my immediate attention.

What I have to say
won't take long. Believe me.

Nonsense. Now that you're here,
we'll have a nice long chat-

just as soon as I clear up a few
tedious business details.

I am honored that you came.

But-
This is Bert Yardley, my executive assistant.

Show Mrs. Fletcher around.
Introduce her to the family.

We'll get together
just as soon as I'm free.

Well, Mr. Yardley,
apparently we're all yours.

Just call me Bert.
This way, please.

Now watch this.
I'm ready.

Okay. Oh! Close enough.
Let me just finish-

It's my turn now.
We'll edit it later on.

Rachel.
Bert.

Oh, that's enough.

What are you doing here?

Excuse me, but, uh, Mr. Bundy
wanted you to meet Mrs. Jessica Fletcher.

Her nephew, Grady.

He works for the company.
Hello. Rachel Bundy.

Delighted to meet you.
How do you do?

You're the writer,
aren't you? Yes, I'm afraid I am.

I thought so.
Christopher collects them.

Oh. My children. Vanessa.

And the cameraman is my son,
Antonio. [No Audible Dialogue]

Now, I'm confused.
Your children?

I keep reading that your husband's
the country's most eligible bachelor.

My husband?
Oh, no, no.

I'm Christopher's sister.
I'm afraid I do all the marrying in this family.

- Two marriages- two children.
- My uncle's much too busy to raise a family of his own,

so he settles for us.

[Millicent]
Ow, ow, ow.

Great. Ow, ow, ow.

Ouch. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Ooh! Great. I'm not gonna
be able to walk for a week.

You need some help
with that? Would you?

I know you.

You're from around the office,
aren't you? I'm Grady Fletcher.

I work in Accounting.
It's kinda dull.

[Laughs]
Working with all that money? No way.

Mother, please take your shot.
I'm tired of holding this camera.

Excuse me.

Excuse me also.
I'll let you know when he can see you.

So, would you like
something to drink?

Oh, that would be nice.
Do you have any ginger ale?

[Laughs]
Enough to take a bath in.

Actually, I hate the stuff.

It's just that my doctor gave my liver
only six more months unless I shape up. Oh.

So, is it true that writers
come up with their ideas...

by watching the world
around them?

Well, some do.

Well, keep your eyes open.

There's a great book
in this family, Mrs. Fletcher-

like something
out of Eugene O'Neill.

You could call it
Long Day's Journey into Oblivion.

Excuse me.

This should interest you-
the complete works of Conan Doyle.

All first editions- priceless.

You must read a great deal.
No. Who has time? I collect.

These things are an investment.
Better than gold.

Oh, yes. Mr. Bundy-
Please, have a seat.

Thank you.
Can I get you a drink?

Uh, no, thank you.

Oh. I'm sorry.

That afternoon sun
can be blinding. Here.

That better?
Yes, much better. Thank you.

Now, can we get down
to business?

Of course.

Let me see if I can
cut to the bottom line.

You are incensed at the idea...

of one of your stories
appearing in a magazine...

sprinkled with photos
of unclothed young ladies.

Am I close?
Dead on target.

[Laughing]
Oh. Mrs. Fletcher, over the past 10 years,

my various magazines have
featured most of America's prize-winning authors.

- Bundy Publications represent exposure.
- They certainly do.

Mr. Bundy, I contracted
to write this story...

for a certain type of magazine.

Yes. Proper, stuffy and dull.

I bought Literary Lines
to change all that.

Well, no one can say
that you're not trying.

Well, now look, I'm not familiar
with the details of your contract,

but I would be happy
to call my attorneys.

- There must be something we can do.
- What you can do is to tear it up.

Now, I must be on my way.
Oh, no. Please. It's late in the day.

I would be honored
if you'd spend the night as my guest.

I'm sorry, but I'm visiting old friends
in Poughkeepsie over the weekend.

You're not afraid, are you?
Afraid?

Well, that you might
get to know me,

that I might destroy all those
stereotypical notions...

buzzing around
in that pretty head of yours.

I was always told J.B. Fletcher
was an independent woman...

who makes up her own mind
about things.

[Laughs]
Mr. Bundy, don't you think that's a rather obvious ploy?

Well, obvious maybe,
but valid.

See, if you stay overnight,
you'll be here in the morning when I talk to my attorneys.

Yes. Yes, I suppose I could call them
and say that I would arrive tomorrow.

Please use the phone.
I'll even give you some privacy.

Privacy, Mr. Bundy?

Uh, that's one of the surveillance cameras
I had installed to protect my estate.

Oh, we also have guards
who watch everything.

But picture only. No sound.

Oh, and, uh, no.

There are none in the bedrooms.

I'll see you at dinner, Mrs. Fletcher.

Looking forward to a delightful evening.

[Door Opens, Closes]

[Object Clatters]

Hi.
Oh, hi.

Are your feet
still bothering you? Oh, I think they'll live.

If I can just figure out
how to get my shoe on. Can I lean on you?

Oh, sure.
Thanks.

Oh, my goodness.
You wear glasses. What? Me?

Oh, no.
Oh, yes, you do.

You've got those cute little marks
on the side of your nose- there and there.

I just love a man
who wears glasses. You do?

Mm-hmm.

Well, actually, uh, I do.

[Laughs]
Yeah.

Mmm.

[Chattering]

Ah, Millicent.
We wondered what happened to you.

- Actually, sir-
- Grady was just helping me to get dressed, Mr. Bundy.

With her shoe.

Sir, there's a Mr. Harrison
at the door. He-

- You bastard!
- Chester, how nice of you.

- I'll see you rot in Hades before
you get my publishing house! - Come on, pal!

This isn't the time.
Good as any. Let go of me.

Bert, it's all right.

- Chester, why don't we go into the study
and discuss this quietly like gentlemen? - Gentlemen. Don't flatter yourself.

Uh, excuse us, please.

Chester, if there's some sort
of misunderstanding, we'll clear it up.

[Laughing]

Dear Uncle Christopher.

- He has such a marvelous knack
for winning friends. - That's enough, Antonio.

[Jessica]
Grady?

What is it?
I can't find Millie.

We were talking, and she left
to go do something. And now she's gone.

Well, after modeling all day,
maybe she went to bed,

which is what I'm going to do
as soon as I get a book from the library.

I guess you're right.
Good night, AuntJess. Good night, Grady.

Oh, and remember your timetable.
Hmm?

About falling hopelessly in love.

Oh. Right.
Sure. You bet.

[Door Opens]

Mrs. Fletcher?

I don't know if you remember me.

Oh, but of course I do.
Mr. Harrison.

We met at the Houston Book Fair.
You have a good memory.

Frankly, I'm surprised
to see you here.

Well, the surprise is mutual.

I understand that we're crossing swords
with the same man.

Yes, and I hope you fare better
than I have so far.

Yes. What was that scene
all about?

I'm afraid he's got
my publishing house.

He's been trying-
Wait.

I suggest that we-
[Clears Throat] Talk with our backs to that thing.

[On Speaker]
Who knows? There may be a lip-reader at the other end.

What was that
about your publishing house?

[Harrison, Sighing]
Well, it's an old story- trite and a little embarrassing.

I publish enough books
about the peccadillos of middle-aged men.

I should have known better.

Good wine doesn't come cheap,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Neither do bad women.
I borrowed heavily.

From Bundy?
Oh, Lord, no.

But he bought up my notes
from the factoring house.

Naturally, I couldn't get
an extension.

Monday, I lose everything-
unless I'm willing to play his game.

Which is?
Stay on as a figurehead.

My name still means something
in the business, but not for long.

He invited me to spend the night
and sleep on it.

But surely you couldn't consider
that proposition?

What else can I do?
Fight.

Hire the best lawyer that you can.
Tie him up in court.

Go public-
anything to get him to back off.

By God, madam. You're right.

What would Hemingway do?
He'd offer no compromise. That's what.

You know, for the first time in weeks,
I may get some sleep.

[Playing Tennis]

Thank you. Oh.

Good morning.
Oh, good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.

I trust you spent
a comfortable night. Yes, thank you.

Actually, I dreamt
that I was being chased by a surveillance camera.

[Laughing]
Well, I'm sorry you lost sleep over it.

Believe me. They're not there for spying.
Only there to protect.

I'm going to shower, and, after breakfast,
we'll have that chat with the lawyers.

Thanks for the workout, Vanessa.
Good.

He always thanks me
when he beats me in straight sets. [Chuckles]

Well, I'm glad to see
I'm not the only one who hates those cameras.

Actually, it is a terrific system.

I may not feel comfortable here,
but I do feel safe.

You ought to take a look at it.
I bet it'd be a great gimmick for one of your books.

Thanks. I may do just that.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.
Uh, Pete Morgan.

I spend most of my time
watching these things,

which is why I know you
even if you don't know me.

Of course.
Just getting my usual cup of java.

It's always quiet
this time on Sundays.

Well, it's nice to meet you, Pete.

You've got quite a setup here.
It's the best.

Oh. There he goes.

- I swear, that man has got a bottle
stashed in every room in the house. - [Jessica Chuckles]

Don't ever get downwind ofhim.

And that young lady-
she makes the library her second home.

I get the impression
she's quite an avid reader.

What's she up to now?
I doubt that she's speed-reading.

[Clattering]
She sure is making a mess.

[Gunshot]

AuntJess, you all right?

Yes, Grady. I'm- I'm fine.

- [Gasps]
- He's dead.

Come on, Mama.
Let me take you to your room.

No. Everybody stays together.

- You don't give the orders here.
- Look, sonny!

We don't know what we're dealing with,
and, until we do, you do as I tell you.

All of you.
Morgan, close the gate.

Check the fence. Search every inch
of the property. Now.

Right.
What are you waiting for, Jensen?

Move.
Yes, sir.

The rest of you-
in the living room.

Come on. Let's go.

Madam!

[Tapping]

[Phone Ringing]

[Continues Ringing]

What are you afraid of, Bert?
A hit man?

[Laughing]
I mean, hasn't it even occurred to you...

that it's much more likely
one of us did it?

- Vanessa.
- Oh, Mother, please.

We all had our reasons, even you.

Well, especially you.

Two husbands you barely
even got to know before Uncle Christopher-

That's enough.

I think Vanessa's
got the right idea.

You lousy ingrate.
He raised you like a son.

Wasn't me, Bert.

I was playing tennis
with Millicent.

We both heard the shot.

[Rachel] I was in the dining room.
[Vanessa] And I was out walking in the garden.

Excuse me. But I believe I saw you
in the library when your uncle was killed.

- You're wrong.
- Well, then the security officer is also mistaken.

- [Whispering, Indistinct]
- We both saw you.

Oh. Oh, you mean when the shot
was actually fired.

I'm sorry. I was confused. You see,
I was out walking in the garden.

Then I came in.
[Bert] What's all this yammering about?

I know who the killer is- Harrison.

The gate guardjust saw him
racing outta here like a bat outta hell.

Chester Harrison?
Oh, no, Mr. Yardley.

Madam.

- The police have arrived.
- Who the hell called the cops?

[Exhales]

Get some good shots of his face.
I want everybody to recognize him.

You got a question?
No.

I'm just surprised you got here
in such a hurry.

What's your name?
Grady Fletcher.

One of the family?
No. I'm an accountant.

Stick around
and stay out of the way.

[No Audible Dialogue]

[Chattering]

[Chattering Continues]

Fletcher.
Me?

My mother and I
wanna see the books as soon as possible.

Call the attorneys.

Look, for one thing,
I don't know your attorneys.

And another- don't you think
you're kind of rushing it a little?

We need strong people
to keep things in line.

You show us something
in the next few days,

and you've got a future
with my organization.

Your organization?
Me and my mother.

I chatted with some of the servants.
Vanessa's right.

This family lives in dark shadows.

Rachel's first husband-
that's Antonio's father.

He was a fortune hunter.
He married her for her money.

Bundy sent some of his associates
to visit, and two weeks later...

his body was found floating
in the East River. [Grady] Nice family.

And Vanessa's father
didn't fare much better.

He committed suicide after Bundy refused
to help him out of a financial predicament. [Scoffs] No wonder she drank.

You know, Grady,
what really concerns me...

is Chester Harrison's sudden departure
right after Mr. Bundy was shot.

Oh, no. I don't think Mr. Harrison
would shoot anyone.

I wish I could be sure of that.

Last night, he was on the verge
of losing everything.

I told him not to quit, you know,
to fight for his company no matter what.

Well, that's the part
that frightens me-

the "no matter what" part.

Oh, no, no. He couldn't have.
I mean, he wouldn't.

But if he didn't,
why did he drive off like that?

Well, that's something I've been
wondering about all morning.

Oh, excuse me.

Uh, I'm sorry. Could I talk to you
for a minute, Grady? Alone, please.

Well, uh-
I'm just leaving.

You know, it might not hurt
to go along with Antonio's request, Grady, about the books.

You might learn something.
Right.

I'm telling you.
Nobody saw it, Lieutenant.

He was shot
in one of the blind spots.

Some surveillance system.

Hey, pal, you probably
drove right by Harrison as he was getting away.

We got an A.P.B. Out on him.
He won't get far. Hey.

Are you talking to me?

No, no. I'm conversing
with the man in the moon. Yeah, you, lady.

I just wanted to-
I don't care what you wanted.

No civilians clumpin' around,
messin' up with the evidence.

[Man]
Harrison. Hold it.

Are you Chester Harrison?
That's right.

We've been looking for you.
Yes, I just heard. My car broke down about a mile-

Yeah, that's really too bad.
Now, look-

Sir. Not another word,
not until we've read you your rights.

In here, please.
Hey, pal.

If you guys don't nail him,
I will personally.

Don't be so quick to judge,
Mr. Yardley.

There's nothing to tie Mr. Harrison
to the murder...

except the timing
of his abrupt departure from the house.

Oh, you think so, huh?
Let me tell you something.

Me and Harrison had a little talk
the other night.

I suggested he wise up and cooperate
before he lost everything.

It was a very constructive meeting.
You mean threatening.

Yeah, you could've taken it that way.
Harrison was scared.

But just before I leave,
he says to me.

"You know, someday someone's
gonna have the nerve to put a stop to that man."

I just never figured it'd be him.

But surely you don't seriously believe
that a man like Chester Harrison-

A shot in the back?
Yeah, I believe it.

The boss and me went back
a lot of years, lady.

So understand one thing real good-

your pal Harrison, he's a dead man.

Because if the cops don't get him, I will.

[Chattering]

[Harrison]
No.

What is it, Grady?
Millicent wanted to know about the Bundy estate-

you know, who gets what and when.

AuntJess, I'm a bookkeeper,
not a lawyer.

Anyway, why should she care?
Why don't you ask her?

I did. She just smiled.

Look, earlier, I was going by the library
and I saw the door was open,

and I saw something-
it might be a clue.

It's over here.

You see?

And look, there's more
under the chair.

You know, maybe the killer
escaped through the window after knocking over the candy.

That's a good thought, Grady,
but not a clue.

I saw Vanessa accidentally
knock the candy onto the floor just before the shot was fired.

No. The killer was not an outsider,

but someone staying in the house.

Jessica, you can't seriously believe
that I murdered that man?

Well, I don't want
to believe it, Chester,

but the police have a very strong
circumstantial case.

You were in the house.
And heaven knows you had the motivation.

And you ran away.
I drove away.

Jessica, I did not kill him.
Well, then what did happen?

And why did you leave so suddenly?
To take your advice.

I was driving to the city
to see my lawyers.

But you must have heard the shot.
I guess I was outside by then.

[Sighs]
Lord, I feel like a character right out of Dostoyevsky.

Well, it's a little early to be wallowing
around in Russian angst. Now-

I've got a couple of things
that I'm gonna check out.

[Dog Barking]

This is the room that Chester
was staying in.

Whoa.
But at the time of the shooting,

he says he was outside
trying to get his car started.

That's what he says.

All right then. Now, there are no
surveillance cameras.

But-
But what?

But there is also no sight line
to Bundy's bedroom.

Now, if Bundy left his bedroom
to come down to breakfast,

there's no possible way
he could have been seen from this doorway.

He was shot in the back.
No powder burns, right?

That's what I heard the doctor
tell Lieutenant Greco.

AuntJess.

It's another door.

It opens under the corridor.

Gee, I'm really sorry, AuntJess.

But from this angle, there's no way
Harrison could have missed.

- [Sighs]
- Thank you very much, Mrs. Fletcher. You've really been very helpful.

Your theory practically
nails down the case against Harrison.

Well, I'm sorry,
but proving Chester guilty is not part of my theory.

Anybody could have gotten into that corridor
or into that bathroom and fired that shot.

Only somebody without an alibi.

Like I say- Chester Harrison.

Are you forgetting Mr. Jensen?
Who?

The, uh- Uh, the manservant.

The what? Who?

The butler.
The butler.

[Laughing]
Are you telling me the butler did it?

Well, I'm only suggesting-
The butler.

With all due respect, Mrs. Fletcher,
this is not another one of your cockeyed whodunits.

Oh! Look, he was behaving
very strangely...

a couple of minutes
before the shot was heard.

I'll book 'im- strange behavior
in the first degree.

Yeah, I like it.
[Officer] Lieutenant.

We found this in the laundry bin
in the basement.

There's a chute in the corridor
near the top of the rear staircase.

Harrison must have dropped it
down the chute before he went out.

Ooh, I'm sorry.
The butler.

Maybe we'll find his fingerprints
on the grip-

really lock down the case
against him.

I doubt that you'll find
anyone's prints on it, Lieutenant.

The killer disposed of the gun
to avoid being found with it.

He wouldn't have been dumb enough
to leave his prints behind.

Chester!

Save it. We're bringing him in
for questioning anyway. [Sighs]

[Bert]
Yeah. Yeah, I understand.

You're sure about that?

Listen, Ogilvy, don't start
yakkin' to me about proprieties.

You're workin' for us now.
You understand?

If you wanna keep makin'
that fancy retainer, you do what we tell you.

There's a few bucks in it for me
and your two kids.

But the lawyers say it's yours, Rachel-
the whole enchilada.

You know, Grady, if I don't
put together something soon,

Chester is gonna land in jail
permanently.

What I cannot understand
is Lieutenant Greco's reaction...

to my suspicions about Mr. Jensen.

It's almost as if-

[Shutter Clicks]

Well, Mr. Jensen,
I see that photography is one of your many talents.

Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, this is not
exactly what it seems.

Well, then you won't mind
telling Lieutenant Greco exactly what it is.

No, that won't be necessary.

My name's EverettJensen, Special Agent
with the Internal Revenue Service.

I called the police this morning and informed
Lieutenant Greco of my identity shortly after he arrived.

Uh, Mr. Jensen, l-I've only
been working for Mr. Bundy for a few months.

And the fact is-
Relax, Mr. Fletcher. We know you're clean.

And so's the magazine-
one ofhis few enterprises that is.

Mr. Jensen, I realize
that Christopher Bundy was a ruthless businessman,

but you're talking about him
as if he was a criminal.

I don't suppose you've ever
heard the name Carmine Bundiatti.

No. I'm sorry.

He was a third-rate hoodlum, a soldier
for one of the NewJersey families.

He never amounted to much,
but his offspring were made of sterner stuff-

and in particular, one grandson.

Christopher Bundy.
That's right.

A new breed of gangster who uses
computers instead of guns...

to build their financial empires.

They skirt the law,
but sometimes they slip- like Bundy did.

He tried to take too much
too publicly.

He was not a popular fellow with us
or anyone else.

Meaning he might have run afoul
of some of his grandfather's business associates.

You don't really buy that possibility,
do you, AuntJess, about a hit man? Oh, I certainly don't.

The problem is,
everyone here's got an alibi. Yeah, so it seems.

Grady, do me a favor.
Drive to the police station...

and find out if there's anything
we can do for Chester.

Sure.
Oh, and keep your ears open.

If the police have found out anything new,
I wanna know about it. Right.

No ice.
Where the hell is Jensen!

The last time I saw him,
he was tied up.

Mrs. Fletcher, you should be
in Poughkeepsie by now.

Yes. And Chester Harrison
should be on his way to New York,

which he's not
because someone adroitly managed to pin a murder charge on him.

Well, it's not me,
as much as I'd love to take credit.

Millie and I were playing tennis
when Uncle Chris bit the big one.

Yes, you told me before.

Yes. We heard the shot.
From the tennis court?

Mrs. Fletcher, do us and yourself
a big favor.

Poughkeepsie's that way-
right at the gate.

Left onto the interstate.
Tony!

Believe me, nothing would give me
greater pleasure,

but I am not in the habit
of running out on people in trouble.

Miss Moore, you were asking my nephew
about the details of Mr. Bundy's will.

Would you tell me why?

I was just curious.
That's all.

About an inheritance?
Well, surely not for yourself.

I'm also not certain
about the reliability of an alibi...

that you two might provide
for each other.

But I saw them playing, Mrs. Fletcher,
when I was out walking.

Oh, yes, of course.
That was just before the shot was fired...

and right after
you entered the library.

You seem to have a fixation
about my presence in the library.

Yes, I do, Vanessa,
when you lie about it.

The security guard and I
both saw you on the monitor.

You were searching through books.
You even spilled a dish of candy.

You, Sis?
You killed Uncle Chris?

Oh, come on, Tony.
Of course I didn't.

I was looking for a letter.

From someone
who used to be very close-

someone dear Uncle Christopher
chased out of my life.

I was reading in the library
a couple of days ago.

I heard him coming, so I hid it
in one of the volumes.

Then I just forgot which one.

Why didn't you just tell us that?

My mother is very much
like my uncle.

She wants to plan my future for me.

So you lied about the library,
and you lied about your brother playing tennis with Miss Moore.

We were playing tennis,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Less than 24 hours after your feet
were so covered with blisters, you could hardly walk?

[Door Opens, Closes]

Mrs. Fletcher.

The lady wants to see you
in the library.

Now. Come with me.

You'll be relieved to learn,
Mrs. Fletcher,

Literary Lines Monthly is no longer
interested in your story.

I take it that means
you'll be in charge.

Someone has to keep the flame.

I'm sorry your good luck carried
such an expensive price tag.

Why are you so concerned
about my brother's death? You didn't even know him.

And very honestly, if you had,
I doubt you'd have liked him very much.

Christopher played by
a certain set of rules, and he lost the game.

I don't intend
to make the same mistake.

My children are all
I've got, Mrs. Fletcher.

And I intend to see they get
more out oflife than I ever did.

Antonio will be sitting
at my right hand.

Vanessa will be wealthy enough
and free enough of her past...

to attract a man
who can give her happiness.

A man of your choosing,
I presume.

She won't make the same mistakes
I made. Believe me.

Her father- my second husband-
was weak.

He killed himself when my brother
refused to bail him out of a financial situation.

Oh, for years, my daughter and I
both blamed my brother.

But eventually I came to see
the flaw was my husband's, not Christopher's.

I cannot- I will not tolerate
weakness in myself or anyone else.

As soon as your nephew returns,
I want you both off my property.

That's all.

- Chester.
- They let him go, AuntJess.

Lack of evidence, they said.
I don't think I'm off the hook yet.

Where's Rachel?
Right here, Mr. Harrison.

The cops made a mistake
letting you go, Harrison.

You made even a bigger one
coming back here.

I didn't kill your brother, Rachel.

My vices are many,
but homicide is not one of them.

Perhaps, perhaps not.
Either way, I want you out of my house.

You haven't heard why I'm here.
I'm prepared to make you an offer you can't refuse.

[Scoffing]
Oh? And what's that?

To give you what I wouldn't
give your brother-

my experience, my knowledge,
my good name.

[Exhales]
I haven't the stomach for a fight, Rachel. I want to make a deal. Now.

Let me understand.

You're willing to stay on as figurehead
knowing I'll be giving the orders?

- That's right.
- Forget it, Rachel.

We don't need this guy.
Be quiet, Bert!

Why?

Because I have no choice.

The magazine is all I have.
It's all I've ever had.

I can't give it up.

Bert, take Mr. Harrison
out on the patio.

I'll join you in a minute.

I am sorry, Jessica.
I need them.

I believe I asked you
to leave, Mrs. Fletcher.

[Door Slams]
I still don't like it, AuntJess. I feel as if we're running out.

Well, it's no longer
any of our business, Grady.

Oh, dear. I'd better return this
to the library,

or they'll get an A.P.B. Out on me
for "booknapping."

You pack up the car,
and I'll be right back. Okay.

Grady.
Hi.

Didn't know you were leaving.
Yeah. By special invitation.

I'm gonna miss you.
I think you'll get over it.

Look, uh, I know that I've been
acting kind of funny around here lately, but-

Yeah, you could say that.
Friendly one moment, cold as ice the next.

But what do I care?

Hey, listen, I'm really sorry.
Fine.

It's just that I don't like
being mixed up in murder.

And your aunt-

Well, she caught me
in a little lie.

At the time of Mr. Bundy's death,
Antonio and I weren't playing tennis.

Hey, I really don't care.
But we were together, upstairs in my room.

And I'll swear to that
if I have to. Why tell me?

Because your aunt seems to think
that I had something to do with the murder, and I didn't.

I'm really sorry about coming on
to you the way that I did. It was lousy. I know.

But I didn't want Mr. Bundy
to know what was going on between Antonio and I, and-

And I was convenient, right?
And harmless. I didn't say that.

You didn't have to.
Excuse me.

Good morning. Welcome to
Sunday Morning Press Forum.

I'm Chet Williams, and today
I'll be interviewing Mr. Harold Lansing,

an undersecretary
in the Defense Department.

Mr. Undersecretary-
[VCRStops]

- Grady!
- AuntJess, what is it?

- I want you to drive straight
to police headquarters. - Again?

Get Lieutenant Greco
and bring him back here. What am I suppos-

I can't use the phone.
It's too dangerous. Dangerous? AuntJess-

There's no time, Grady.
I think I've figured out who killed Mr. Bundy.

The problem is how to prove it.

What's all this about?
I'm really sorry to bother you with all this.

My aunt needs to know
the various areas the surveillance cameras cover.

Why doesn't she just ask
Pete Morgan? Uh-

Oh. What is she doing?

I think she said something about
looking for a letter.

My letter?
Yeah. Yeah, that's it.

She said you were looking for a letter
in a book on Sunday morning-

the very time your uncle
was shot, and- Uh-oh.

[Gasps]
What's this about?

Surely you remember
that accident, Vanessa.

Is this your idea of a joke,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Not at all. I wish it were.

Wires leading from the surveillance box
to the playback machine.

That's how I could be in two places
at the same time.

But surely you knew that, Vanessa,
since you did the same thing. What are you talking about?

You must have recorded
your little charade a day or two ago,

either when Mr. Morgan was off duty
or perhaps getting coffee.

Then you used the tape
on Sunday morning to mask your movements.

[Jessica Narrating]
You set the machine up, then waited until you saw the guard going by.

What Pete and I were looking at
was your prerecorded tape.

We had no way ofknowing
you had ducked outside and come up the rear staircase,

avoiding the other surveillance cameras.

You waited until Chester Harrison
went out to his car.

Then you slipped into his room.

You shot your uncle after he went by,

then left by the back stairs,

putting the gun into the laundry chute
after wiping it clean.

At this point, you knew no one would
be watching the security monitors.

You returned to the library where you
unclipped the wires and hid them.

Then you rewound the tape
and recorded over the cover-up scene.

On the way tojoin the others,
you knocked over the candy again...

so that, if anybody checked,
everything would correspond to what the guard had seen.

Oh, that is a clever little story,
Mrs. Fletcher.

- Now prove it.
- Vanessa?

Mr. Morgan, what exactly
did you see that morning?

What you saw. I mean,
you were right there with me.

There was something odd
about that scene, Mr. Morgan,

and I don't blame you
for not noticing.

It didn't occur to me
until just a short time ago.

[Narrating]
When Mr. Bundy and I met in the library on Saturday afternoon,

he adjusted the drapes
because the sun was hitting me right in the eyes.

What was the time of death,
Lieutenant Greco?

10:00 in the morning.

Yes. 10:00 in the morning.

[Narrating]
Vanessa was looking through books. We could see her quite clearly...

in the sunlight streaming into the room
in the morning-

even though the windows
of the library face west,

and sun streams through them
in the afternoon.

Isn't that what we also saw,
Mr. Morgan?

Yes. I remember now.

- You're right.
- I'll swear to that in court, Vanessa.

And I'm sure
that will Mr. Morgan will too.

[Sniffles]

You never knew my father,
Mrs. Fletcher.

He was a very gentle man.
He wasn't weak.

But he was thoughtful,
and he was considerate.

And he was caring.

[Crying]
They never understood him.

He always had time for me
even when nobody else did.

Time to listen...

and time to share.

And then that beautiful soul
was destroyed by someone who only taught me to be afraid.

- Vanessa.
- Don't look at me that way, Mother!

I only did what you never had
the courage to do yourself.

I'm only sorry
it took me so long.

[Voice Quavers]
Oh.

Come on.

[Footsteps]
Jessica.

Oh.

How can I thank you?
You saved this old fool from a terrible ordeal.

Chester, you're neither old
nor a fool.

And it's good to know you'll be
back in business as usual.

Absolutely.
We'd offer you a ride, Mr. Harrison,

but we're headed towards
Poughkeepsie, and as you see- I have someone giving me a ride.

[Tires Squealing]
Hey, Chester! Come on.

I've got reservations
at Vincenzo's at 8:00, and I'm starved.

Oh, one little supper.
Doesn't mean a thing.

[Engine Revving]

Aw, who cares?

She wasn't my type anyway.

Grady, your love life
is a real mess.

[Chattering]
My people, Mrs. Fletcher.

We decided to shut
the Bundy operation down...

before the lady is able
to manipulate the books.

[Chattering]
[Man] Upstairs.

And another thing, Grady.

I've been, uh,
meaning to talk to you...

about your, uh,
choice of employers.

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0