All language subtitles for MrSWr1108

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Get out of here.

Chill out. It's just a game.

Bluffing is a fool's game.

Come here. Blackmail?

Are you sure you want to do

something this drastic?

I had the biggest crush.

You've really forgotten, haven't you?

There's nothing in our way anymore.

Somebody broke into your house and stole your diary?

"Mystery-- the mother of harlots

and abominations of the earth."

He and I went on a date once.

There wasn't one of us

didn't have a good reason to bop him.

Something bothered me at the house last night.

Okay, so I was there. But the lights were out and the door was locked.

Down and dirty.

Come on, Al. Yeah.

You can do this, Al.

Come on, Al. This is it.

Focus. Focus.

You got it. You got it.

Yeah!

You bowl like a girl, Al.

Oh, Marie, that was the best corned beef and cabbage

I've ever had, bar none.

Well, thank you very much.

Best-kept secret in cabot cove!

I'm afraid I owe you two an apology.

I wanted this to be an unexpected dining experience,

an epicurean treat

here in a bowling alley,

but it sounds like World War III in here.

Well, somebody should have warned you

that it was the regional finals, that's all.

You know, I've seen some familiar faces,

with maybe a few more wrinkles.

But after ten years in the city

so much peace and quiet.

Hey, too bad we had to stick it to you guys, Sam.

Better luck next year.

What? Get out of here!

Come on, Sam. Chill out.

Yeah, well, get him out of my face.

It's only a game.

All the way around. Cabot Cove is buying for Biddeford.

You got it, Al.

Evening Doctor, Mrs. Fletcher.

Al -Oh Al this is Imogene--

Miss Imogene Shaughnessy.

Your houseguest from New York?

It's a small town.

He's on the dinner program

that I told you about with Seth and me.

Oh, the fine arts club.

Here for long Ms. Shaughnessy?

Actually, I'm returning for good.

Which means that she's house hunting.

Oh, well, I'll get the word out.

I gather you boys couldn't put it together tonight, Al.

Uh, mostly my end, I guess. I lost concentration.

Miss Shaughnessy. Evening, everybody.

Can't blame Al too much.

Couple of weeks ago, he lost his pharmacy in a fire.

- Hi, Harvey. - Hey.

Oh, Al.

We lost today I guess, huh?

It shows, huh?

Yeah, you and Terry didn't miss a thing.

Well, I would've been there, you know, but--

Yeah. Right. I should've been with you guys.

Full moon, calm seas, beautiful woman.

Well, Al flattery will get you everywhere.

Hey, you never know. Someday.

Well, let's take this table right over here.

Oh! Harvey! Are you okay?

That was some kind of stupid thing to do, Sam!

You gotta watch where you're going, pal.

Oh, don't "pal" me. You know damn good and well that was intentional!

Harvey, come on. Let's get out of here.

My god, was that who I think it is?

Mm-hmm. Terry Deauville.

She was teaching at the high school

the year that I left for New York.

Still does, if I'm not mistaken.

She's an occasional patient of mine.

Oh Lord she and I used to--

It didn't occur to me,

but that's the house I'm seeing tomorrow--

Her mother's old place up on Pike's Drive.

Maybe you'll come along?

Sure. I'd like to see the old Deauville place again.

The fine arts dinner committee isn't picking on you, Seth.

But you've had the lead-off spot for five straight years.

They probably felt it was time

to give somebody else a chance.

All well and good,

but Floyd Bigelow and his flute?

Thank you.

He'll put them all to sleep

before they finish their peach cobbler.

No, what we need is a real rouser to start things off.

I know, like Al Wallace and his fiddle.

Al does a pretty fair job

on "the flight of the bumblebee",

but we've all heard it 100 times.

Now, I have written an original poem.

It will have their blood simply coursing, I tell you.

Have you read my ode to literature?

No, I don't believe I have.

Well, I do value your opinion, you know.

Oh, let's move it.

Hello Doc, Mrs. Fletcher.

Mr. Bryce, Mrs. Bryce.

Looks like you could use a trim, Doc.

I've got a chair ready right now.

Oh no time, Sam. I'm afraid I've got to run.

- Uh-huh. - Sam.

Wish he wasn't the only Barber in town.

The man is a butcher.

He's right. You could use a trim.

He's always fobbing off

newfangled conditioners and lotions.

My follicles can take perfectly good care of themselves,

thank you very much.

This house seemed so large

when I was little.

Has some really nice memories for me.

Oh, I remember coming here

one Christmas Eve with Frank,

and your mother had a string trio

playing carols up there on the landing.

Oh, it's really quite lovely.

Do you mind if I just, uh--

Of course. Look around. Any questions, just ask.

Jessica.

How's the teaching going? The year I left,

you'd just won the state's

best science and maths teachers awards.

Yes, well, I still have those subjects,

plus something new, domestic science.

Oh, yes. Everything the kids need to know

about running their own households, huh?

From diapering to rewiring.

Even plumbing. The whole shebang.

I'm trying to apply what I've learned here.

Tell you the truth, I'd rather be diapering.

Oh. And?

What is it they say? All of the most eligible men

are already married.

Or they're like Harvey Hoffman

You know, the man that I was with last night.

A very good-natured man, but beyond that, nothing.

Anyway, I think I'm Pulling up stakes,

try my luck somewhere else. Maybe New York city.

Well, if you get serious about that let me know

because I might be able to help.

- You really think so? - Sure.

Excuse me, Jessica.

Hello?

No, Sam, I cannot.

No. I can't.

It's an absolute gem.

More than enough room.

And with the upgrading that she's talked about,

it's going to be fabulous.

It's over, Sam.

I didn't hear from you.

No, I didn't know what to think.

No, I can't.

So what do you think Imogene?

It's really lovely.

And I'm quite tempted Terry.

Good morning, miss deauville, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Medora. - Ms. Finney, this is Imogene--

I know who she is.

I live next door Mrs. Shaughnessy.

You fixing on buying this place?

It's "Miss"...

and I hadn't come to any conclusions yet.

Well, it is kind of roomy for a single lady

unless you like a lot of late-night partying, like some folks.

But the last people were very quiet and very settled.

Yes, well, very nice meeting you, ms. Finney.

Uh, I'm gonna be late

for that other appointment.

Bye-bye.

Miss Deauville.

Who is it?

I said, who is it?

Surprise.

For heaven's sake Sam, stop it.

Not till you take back what you said on the phone.

Besides, nothing's over

till Sam says it's over.

You haven't spoken to me in weeks.

As far as I'm concerned, that says everything.

Ah give me a break, gorgeous.

Besides, I've been busy as hell.

Sure cutting hair all night, every night,

and beating up harmless guys like Harvey.

Well, it made me kind of crazy seeing you and him together.

And Emily's been on my case, too getting suspicious.

Oh, you told me that Emily didn't mean anything to you anymore.

We were gonna leave Cabot Cove together, remember?

It's over, Sam. Get the hell out.

And what was I gonna do?

Just up and walk out on her?

- Where did you get such a stupid idea? - From you!

God, I was stupid.

But you lied to me, you manipulated me

Are you telling me you didn't feel

the same way that I did?

This doesn't have to be over.

Come here!

Stop it! You get out!

Stay out of my life!

I don't want to see you or hear from you again!

I mean it! And if you ever come near me,

so help me, I'll kill you!

Say it again, Ollie.

I want to marry you, Gloria.

Oh.

You can say that 100 times.

I'd never get sick of hearing it.

But, you know, I can't leave mom right now.

Right. Right.

When's she gonna nail that creep

and get a life of her own?

You know that isn't it.

Your dad wants you to land some guy

who's got more of a future than me.

But yours is the one I want.

Sam.

How's it going?

Go a hell of a lot better

if you got Gloria in before 12:30.

She's got a job, remember?

Uh, we just got to talking, Pa.

Glo, it's okay. I'll call you.

You didn't have to be so rude.

Watch your mouth.

You think I spend my good money

sending you to that computer school

so you end up with a loser like him?

Well take a good look at yourself, Pa!

You stink of booze, got lipstick all over you.

You really think that some prince charming

is gonna marry into this family?

I read your ode to literature last night, Seth,

and I think it's the best poem you've ever written.

You did? You do?

Find me another one like him, Si.

- Think that'll do it. - Thank you, doctor.

So, then you see why I should have

the lead-off spot again this year.

It's a real rouser, all right.

Whoa! Slow down, Sam.

Sam, you're gonna wipe out half the block driving like that.

Where the hell's my saber saw you were gonna return last night?

Yeah, calm down. I'll get it for you.

Make it fast. I'm losing business here.

Those will do just fine, Si.

See you at the game tonight.

No you won't, pal.

Mort tells me Ron called the station

first thing this morning.

Someone broke into his shop last night.

He must have some pretty valuable equipment in there.

Mort says that's the strange thing about it.

Nothing was stolen.

Oh, your threes don't scare me, Ollie.

I'll see you and I'll raise you half a Buck.

Call.

Look at that piddly pot.

You can't play poker with five guys.

Bet's to you, Ollie.

So what was Sam's problem?

A Buck.

I don't know. He was ticked off about something.

What else is new?

Who needs him and his temper, anyway?

You know what that was all about last night, Harv.

Terry Deauville is nothing but trouble.

Oh?

I didn't hear you had occasion to know that, Al.

Now, I doubt if there's any one of you guys

who at one time or another didn't,

you know, think about it.

But you all know damn well that's all there was to it.

Now, let's play cards.

Get that for me, will you, Harv?

Hello?

Ron, it's for you. It's Sam Bryce.

Yeah. Speak of the devil.

Hey, Sam.

What the hell did you do to my saw?

Now it's not working.

I didn't do anything to your stupid saw.

It must be the power source. Check the outlet.

There's nothing wrong with the plug.

Yeah, well, you got two there, don't you?

Try the other one, genius.

It's to you.

Doesn't make sense, Mrs. F.

Sam was doing something that nobody in their right mind does

when they're handling a power tool.

Now, he knew something about electricity.

And yet there he was in a pool of water,

holding the equipment in both hands.

Mm-hmm. Creating a circuit through his body.

He must have used that saw and that outlet

many, many times before.

Sheriff, I think you should follow your instincts

and have portland forensics check some of this out.

Andy, get a few more shots from over here, will you?

Jess, I've got patients waiting.

Could we pay our condolences and then skedaddle?

Okay, okay.

Jessica, please!

I'm coming, I'm coming.

How you feeling sweetheart?

Yeah, I just got back from the funeral.

Everybody there sent you their best.

Hmm? What was Amanda wearing?

Well, let's see, she was wearing some kind of a peach thing

with yellow thingamajigs all over her sleeves.

Adele, Mr. Blackwell I'm not.

Honey, Andy just came back from Portland.

I'm gonna have--

I love you, too, sweetheart. Later on.

Sheriff Metzger...

somebody broke into my house during the Bryce funeral.

Oh, I'm sorry about that, Ms. Finney.

Was anything of value taken?

I keep a journal,

something personal and special to myself,

- and it was taken. - Huh?

Are you telling me that...

somebody broke into your house

and stole your diary?

Now, why would anybody want to do that?

Well, let's just say

that it was more than a diary, Sheriff.

It's my own special record of certain people,

of things that go on.

It had my observation about Sam Bryce's murder.

Mur-murder? It was an accident.

In your book, maybe,

but it's all there in my journal.

The fight that Sam Bryce and Terry Deauville had

the night before Sam was murdered.

I mean, she wasn't at the funeral.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out

who broke into my house!

Hold it right there.

The break-in goes on the report,

but Judge Bailey isn't gonna issue me warrants

to search every house in cabot cove for your diary.

And second, you're making some very serious accusations

against Terry Deauville.

"Thou who takes thy sword and slays thy neighbor dead

shall shrivel and die and burn in hell."

Miss Finney, if you don't want Terry Deauville

to sue you for libel, if I were you,

I would keep my accusations to myself.

Hmm. Well, I see how you tend to the needs

of the honest, god-fearing citizens of Cabot Cove.

Good day, miss Finney.

Wipe that smile off your face, Andy.

Portland forensics said that the electrical outlet

in Sam's garage had been intentionally disconnected.

And they checked the second plug and found

that the wire had been cut, the ground wire.

So if a hot wire had been rigged

to touch the metal casing of the saw itself

According to Portland, it was.

And Sam became the ground.

This might have something to do with the break-in at Ron Friendly's.

Plus, they're pretty sure that the leak in the water cooler

was due to intentional puncturing.

These are the readouts on those fingerprints

we lifted from the garage.

Sam's, naturally.

There's Gloria, Emily. Yeah.

And this one you're not gonna like too much.

I don't believe it.

Terry Deauville.

Maybe it's all the fresh air, or maybe it's the funerals,

but either way, I end up with a huge appetite.

I like to think that it's the fresh air.

I could hardly sit through that Church service

what with medora Finney and her coven of biddies

whispering through the whole thing.

I couldn't help but hear it, either.

It was all about Sam Bryce's alleged affair

with Terry Deauville.

Oh, my goodness.

Mrs. Fletcher, Dr. Hazlitt.

I'm sorry about the mess.

The dumpster's due in a few minutes.

When do you get to start rebuilding?

Talk to the insurance company.

It's been three weeks, and the adjuster's coming today.

Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of work to do.

As if the fire wasn't enough,

there's a new discount outfit on the county line

that has put the kibosh on most of his regular business.

Oh, dear.

You girls relax and take it easy.

I'll make some instant coffee.

All right. You need a hand?

No, no. Leave it to me.

Thank you.

I thought Dr. Wilson's sermon

was just right, didn't you, Ma?

The Flowers were beautiful.

I never knew pa had so many friends.

Ma?

Glo? Where do you keep the sugar?

In the cupboard above the fridge!

Oh Ollie, don't look so shocked.

We just want to make sure that good old Sam

is really dead and buried, that's all.

Don't stand there like a dummy. Give us a hand.

You gave us permission to search your apartment,

and my deputies found this in your desk drawer.

Well, I have no idea how it got there.

And what would I be doing with this woman's book anyway?

It has an account of a fight you had with Sam Bryce

the night before he was murdered.

Sheriff, for heaven's sakes, Terry wouldn't risk jail

to steal something like that.

Mrs. F, don't you have an appointment or something?

No.

Okay. So how do you explain your fingerprints

being all over Sam Bryce's garage?

Well before Sam and Emily went away last month,

Sam asked me to help him on their boat.

Okay, so how do you explain

these electrical diagrams we also found in your place?

Nobody rigs a circuit like that

unless they're trying to kill somebody.

Sheriff, they're marked with skulls and crossbones.

That is to show my kids exactly what not to do.

Maybe Sam Bryce should've taken your course.

Andy?

I'll have one of my deputies drive you back to your car.

Thank you.

- Good-bye, Jessica. - Good-bye.

Well, we're all gonna miss our good buddy,

but, well, we all grew up with the creep.

But we just have to be honest with ourselves about Sam.

Yeah, I guess Sam was a little mean to us.

Look what he did the other night to you, Harv, out of the blue.

Here's to you, Sam! May you rest in peace!

But do us a favor, stay away!

And what's eating you?

I don't like speaking ill of the dead, that's all.

Aw, don't give me that! You telling me he didn't get to you,

him always going on about you not being good enough for Gloria?

He's dead, Ron.

I gotta go.

Oh, me, too.

Hasta la vista

Yeah. Well, I guess it's about that time, Ron.

Oh, let me finish my beer, damn it.

I wanna talk to you. Ollie didn't understand.

Of course he didn't. He wasn't around.

See, he's too young to know Sam the way we knew him.

You got it. And there wasn't a one of us

didn't have a good enough reason to bop him, either.

Well, I'm not sure I agree with you there, Ron.

Well, what about that condo deal

you and Sam were in on,

the one he wasn't telling Emily anything about?

What do you know about that? That was between Sam and me.

He told me it takes a real lamebrain to trust a friend

with 25,000 bucks without a piece of paper.

You know what? I'm going to forget

this conversation ever took place.

Sure. But there's a widow and a daughter

who are gonna wanna know what Sam did with the money

he'd squirreled away for a rainy day.

And Emily and Gloria and even Sheriff Metzger

aren't gonna find out about it

unless somebody tells them!

I can't imagine what the problem is.

Terry accepted my offer.

She said she'd be calling here by 8:00.

We were gonna meet so I could give her a deposit check,

and now the operator says the phone's off the hook.

Are you sure you didn't get your signals crossed?

It's 9:00. Maybe she's expecting you

to meet her out at the house.

Hmm.

Not that I remember.

Oh, Jess, I'd just hate it if she's found another buyer.

Well, we both need a spot of fresh air.

I'll grab my coat and we'll drive out there.

Probably find her waiting for us.

Great!

Hello, anybody home?

Oh, Terry. Terry.

Far as I can gather after cursory examination,

death was caused by asphyxiation due to hanging.

To answer your question, Sheriff

I see no reason to think it was other than self-inflicted,

although, of course, that will have to be the coroner's call.

Oh, Seth, I simply can't imagine

why Terry would've taken her own life.

Oh, come on, Mrs. F, you saw the state she was in

when she left my office this afternoon.

Well, of course she was in a state, sheriff.

You just about accused her of murdering Sam Bryce.

The evidence says she did.

All circumstantial!

Oh, listen, we've all got a conscience,

and Terry Deauville's must've been working overtime.

It's called remorse for killing Sam Bryce.

Plus, she had Medora Finney

and her band of valkyries spreading the word.

It must've been closing in on her.

Exactly. And that's why I'm writing this up

as a presumed suicide until I

Jessica, look.

Terry signed my offer on the house.

Well, the Sheriff will certainly want this

as evidence, Imogene

An indication of Terry's state of mind

just before she committed

Okay, okay, I get the message, Mrs. F.

I'll have your statements ready for signature tomorrow.

What is it, Mrs. F?

Oh, nothing, sheriff.

Nothing that I can put my finger on at the moment.

Ma's still asleep. We can spend some time together.

Um, I tried to call you last night.

You said you'd try and come by.

- I got busy. - Oh, yeah?

Besides, I tried to reach you, and there was no answer.

Oh, Mr. Telephone man, you must've 'dialed the wrong number.

You hear about Terry Deauville?

Mavis heard from her boyfriend over at the station.

You know, it sounds ghoulish,

but it's like a terrible load has been lifted off of me.

You know, first Pa and now her.

Just got so mixed up about everything.

I love you, Glo.

I want to make a life for the two of us.

That's all that matters to me.

And there's nothing in our way anymore, is there?

Ollie? Is that you I'm hearing down here?

Oh, Hi Mom!

Good heavens Glo,

is that all you give your fella to start out his day?

Now, we have bacon, we have ham, we have rolls.

Hell! You make it Mrs. Bryce,

and I guarantee nothing goes down the disposal.

You know, you're gonna have to stop calling me Mrs. Bryce

now that we're all family. It's Emily.

Come on, Glo, give me a hand.

But why would Terry pull herself together

with a coordinated blouse and skirt,

nice make-up, and then kill herself?

Well, that's something Adele could probably answer better than me.

Well, I'm sure that Adele will tell you

it sounds more like Terry was preparing for a date,

not suicide.

Did you by any chance check Terry's answering machine?

Right after you left last night.

There was one message on it,

but it was a lousy connection, lot of static.

As far as we could make out, it was a male voice

saying something about wanting to come over later.

I've asked the phone company to check all the calls in

to Terry's place last night.

Something bothered me at the house last night.

When Imogene and I went up to Terry's the first time,

there'd been a delivery from Hoffman hardware.

I don't ever recall any rope being in it.

Maybe it was in a different part of the house.

Or how about something as simple as she went out and got it?

Seth: ready to roll, Jessica?

The fine arts dinner committee

waiteth for no man.

Be right with you. Doc, the guys were wondering

if you'd fill in at the poker game tonight.

You mean take Sam's place?

Yeah, we were gonna cancel it, except...

Emily insists that Sam would've wanted the game

to go on as scheduled.

I don't know. Sitting in a dead man's chair

is not my idea of sport.

Gloria whipped up a bunch of pies and cakes.

Well, I suppose I could do it, for Emily's sake.

Only on condition that you play like a gentleman

and stop bluffing your way into the big pots.

What? So you can do it instead?

Seth, we've got to get on our horses.

There's no rush. The meeting isn't till 12:00.

But I need you to help me with something first.

Mort, will you see to the doors?

Wait a minute, Mrs. F, what

- Al. - Oh, miss Shaughnessy.

How's the house hunting going?

I was just now headed out to look at another one.

- And it's not Miss Shaughnessy. - No?

It was ginny once,

but you've really forgotten, haven't you?

- What-- - I--I'm sorry.

You and I dated. We were just kids,

but I had the biggest crush.

You're not saying--

Yes, really!

For about a week and a half,

you were the biggest thing in my life.

Gosh, I'm really sorry. Oh, no, don't be.

It was the strangest thing seeing you the other night,

like I'd really come home again.

Well, I can't imagine not remembering you, ginny.

At the very least, let me take you out to dinner.

My weekend's wide open.

I'll call.

Yo, Harv!

Hello, Sheriff.

Just the man I'm looking for.

You wouldn't happen to have your receipt book with you, would you?

Yeah, sure.

Right here. What's on your mind?

Would you recall a delivery you might've made

to Terry Deauville within the last month?

About 15 feet of sail rope?

Let me look, sheriff.

That's something I thought you might've remembered.

Hey, I've got customers on top of customers.

You know, Terry was refurbishing.

She bought a lot from me here lately.

Oh, oh! Here it is.

15 feet of signet number nine, braided polyester.

Too bad she had to use it the way she did.

One of these two is a forgery,

'cause these aren't even close.

No way Terry Deauville signed that receipt, sheriff.

This isn't Terry deauville's signature, harv.

You got an explanation for that?

Well, of course it isn't.

There was a note under my door

asking me to deliver that rope.

And before I opened that morning,

I ran it out there myself.

Did you see Terry Deauville?

No, no one was there,

so I left it by the front door.

And you signed Ms. Deauville's name.

Hell no, Sheriff. That's not a signature.

That's--Look, I wrote "delivered" and the date.

See, that's my squiggle there.

Ah, yes, I see.

Thanks, Harv. I was just checking.

Listen, mind if I borrow this?

Um...

no. No problem.

Bye, sheriff.

We'd better be back in time for the meeting,

is all I can say.

Alberta Rodney will be poised on tippy-toe

to bring in the third-grade dance class for a finale.

You can imagine what that is going to do to the program.

Well, as far as I'm concerned, it's more important

to prove that you and Mort are wrong

and that Terry Deauville did not commit suicide.

Ha! Department of lost causes.

Thank you.

6 1/2 feet.

And how tall did you say that Terry was?

Last time she came in for a check-up,

"5'8" give or take-- wait a minute.

Terry couldn't have hanged herself.

Nope. She would've had to pull herself up

and put her own head in the noose.

Physically impossible!

Wait till Mort hears about this.

Mort, I just spoke with Wilbur Yates

over at the county coroner's office.

He had double-checked the neck trauma,

but he'd said he could not find the inverted "v" bruise

normally associated with a hanging.

But was there a straight line bruise, Seth?

Yes, at the base of the neck, posteriorly,

caused by the pressure of a killer's hands.

Mrs. F, when I get a free minute,

I'll sit down to that plate of crow

you've been heating up for me.

Mort, whoever put that note under Harvey's door

wanted to give you the impression

that Terry had purchased that rope.

Right. Knowing Medora Finney and her friends

had convinced most people that she killed Sam.

Now, on that note, let me show you something.

Medora Finney's journal.

She always seemed to turn up where the action was,

like the night that Terry had a big fight with Sam Bryce.

Hmm, well...

"S.B." Sam Bryce?

"In vicious fight with T.D." Terry deauville.

"Mystery, babylon the great, the mother of harlots

and abominations of the earth."

Revelations 17 or 18, if I remember.

Mort, this proves nothing.

Well, check this one out.

The night of the fire at Al Wallace's pharmacy.

Yeah. Terry deauville wasn't involved, but...

uh-huh. "11 p.m., S.B..."

Sam Bryce.

"came out of barbershop with F."

"F"? Hmm.

"Suddenly, a fire in A.W." - -

Al Wallace's shop down the block.

"S.B."--Sam-- "runs in to put it out.

"Unsuccessful.

And the kings of the earth shall bewail her..."

"when they see the smoke of her burning."

You have no right to share my private writings

with an outsider, Sheriff.

There you are, Miss Finney.

If you'll just sign this release form,

you can take your journal.

There is nothing in the good book

that says you have to show charity

to a floozy like Terry Deauville.

Floozy?

And what was medora Finney doing on main street

at 11:00 the night of Al Wallace's fire?

If Sam Bryce tried to play the hero and put out the fire,

the whole town would have known about it.

You know, he might've set the fire himself,

as a matter of fact.

And who's the "f" that she refers to?

In both other cases, she used both initials.

"F" for "floozy"?

Sheriff, the phone company said

there were two calls to Terry deauville's number.

And?

Both from public phones. One outside the library.

The second, the one that was on the tape,

came from the hi-lo bar.

The bartender says he remembers seeing Ron Friendly

making a phone call about that time.

Excuse us.

Sure, I called Terry Deauville.

Left a message on her answering machine.

Hey, Frank. Hey, Ron.

That solenoid gives you any more trouble,

you let me know, okay?

I will, friendly.

I, uh, just wanted to let her know

that I was on her side, that's all.

Okay, so maybe there was something else on my mind.

Yeah. You went to her house. You tried to hit on her.

She refused, things got rough,

and somehow it got to the point where you had to kill her.

Oh, come on. Okay, so I was there,

but the lights were out and the door was locked.

Nobody was home. You gotta believe me. Please!

I'm trying.

Just don't get any sudden urges to leave Cabot Cove.

You talk to Al Wallace.

He and Sam were into buying a condo together.

There's a matter of 25 grand

Gloria and Emily would like to know about.

Poke around in the back of Harvey Hoffman's place,

and you can find just about anything.

Harvey's grandpa doubled as the town pharmacist,

and with Al Wallace closed,

I've been having to mix some of my own special remedies.

Oh! And look at this!

My nephew Simon collects antique toys.

A well-preserved horse and cart, circa 1882.

A horse and cart.

Somebody put the cart before the horse.

No, they didn't.

Of course! That's the answer!

Answer? Answer to what?

To both murders, Seth. Sam's and Terry's.

But there's only one murderer, and that person

put the cart before the horse intentionally,

and I've got to get them to admit it.

Horse? Cart? Jessica, for once,

could you let me in on your little game?

I'm not sure, but I think it'll require bluffing.

Come on, we've got to talk to Mort.

You picked the right man. Bluffing happens to be

the sheriff's specialty.

Okay, Doc. I'll see your four...

and I'll raise you.

Ha! There you go bluffing again.

You expect me to believe you've got a bullet in the hole?

Well, if you have that much confidence in those fours,

you bet them.

It's to you, Doc. You're up.

Down and dirty, Al.

And there's your last card, Mort. Down and dirty.

It's a big pot.

Yeah.

Fours bets.

Well, look, Doc,

since this is the last hand of the evening,

why don't I just see you and raise you the rest?

Pot's good, gentlemen. Show me your cards.

Now, did you really think your fours

could stand up against aces over kings?

Sure did.

Especially when I realized

that there were.. Four of them.

Oh, Doc!

They say that poker

is the measure of a man's character.

Looks like you're the big winner tonight, Dr. Hazlitt.

So, Sheriff, I hope you're having better luck

solving Sam's murder.

I wish. Seems like everybody in town

has got a theory on this one.

The latest one from Mrs. Fletcher is that the solution

is right here in Sam Bryce's garage.

She said she'd tell me more about it tomorrow.

Are these what you're looking for, Mr. Wallace?

Mrs. Fletcher? Gosh, you gave me such a start.

What in the world would I want with junk like that?

Well, it's obvious Sam Bryce didn't think they were junk,

hiding them as he did.

This afternoon, I was reminded of this beaker.

I suddenly made the association

with those others that you had stacked

in front of your burned-out pharmacy

the day of Sam Bryce's funeral.

What you didn't know was that medora Finney

was on main street the night your pharmacy burned,

and she saw Sam Bryce run inside.

He must have found this

and recognized it as part of an incendiary device.

Now, Mrs. Fletcher...

what would you know about such things?

Enough to suspect that Sam came to you

and threatened blackmail.

You had a key to this garage,

enabling you to sabotage his electric wiring.

It must have been you who broke into Ron Friendly's shop

where you rigged the electric saw.

Here, give me that stuff.

Hold it, al!

I just had a little chat with your insurance adjuster.

He suspects arson,

and your prints on those items ought to clinch it for him.

Okay. I admit it. I burned my place.

I had no choice. I was slowly going under.

I had to get out. But...

I never killed Sam Bryce like you're saying.

It's not Sam's murder where you made your mistake.

It was Terry Deauville's.

Terry Deauv--

Now you're really losing it.

Even when I knew for a fact

that Terry didn't commit suicide but was murdered,

my error was to continue thinking in terms of two murders,

two murderers.

But there was only one you, Al.

Because, through some twisted reasoning,

you justified killing Terry Deauville in such a way

that she'd be suspected of having murdered Sam,

then, out of remorse, taking her own life.

Which would immediately close the book on Sam's killing.

You stole Medora's journal, planted it in Terry's apartment.

Then later that night, you called her from outside the library

and somehow you conned your way into her house.

Something Dr. Hazlitt said this afternoon

reminded me of your mistake, Al.

You'd made sure the rope you used

the rope you to make Terry's death appear to be suicide

was delivered to her house before Sam's murder

and before Terry had any reason

to feel remorse or contemplate suicide.

You put the cart before the horse, Al.

That note you wrote to Harvey-- He pinned it to the receipt.

The forensics guys will do wonders with that.

You're right.

Sam threatened to reveal the arson.

Oh, that condo deal you had with Sam.

Don't tell me a note-free 25 grand didn't sweeten it, too.

What in the world made Terry Deauville so expendable, al?

Why Terry?

Well, good Lord.

Why Terry? Because I loved her, always did,

since clear back in the 7th grade.

I even told her then. I wrote her that.

She never remembered.

Terry Deauville was everything

I wanted in a woman, Mrs. Fletcher.

I loved her in so many ways,

but the only man she wanted to go with

was that pig, Sam Bryce.

And I couldn't forgive either of them for that.

Jess, I suppose you've heard.

Well, yes.

Alberta Rodney just gave me

your letter of resignation

from the fine arts club.

Seth, are you sure you want to do

something this drastic?

Absolutely.

With Al Wallace off the program,

they've decided to lead off with Floyd Bigelow

and his flute.

Reciting my ode after that

would be like raising a monument to bad taste.

Well, I am deeply disappointed.

I mean, hearing someone else speak your words

is not the same as

Someone else? If I don't read them,

no one's going to read them!

It's too late to take your ode

out of the dinner program.

Besides, it's too nice and too lovely...

to keep under wraps.

It belongs to all of us.

Besides, Doc, you don't really have to worry.

I took speech and drama in high school. Listen.

"Oh, winds of learning waft now

on this vestal student of the arts..."

Mort, stop. Give me back that resignation.

On second thought,

in the interests of art, of course...