All language subtitles for MrSWr1121

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Voodoo, illegal gambling, jazz...

contemporary New Orleans.

It has the highest murder rate in the country.

Out of my way, lady.

Why are you still following me?

Roussel is laundering

offshore money on your name.

I'd be a fool to sign this!

I think somebody's just playing a cruel joke on both of us.

Don't be bamboozled, Emily.

Mom has an explanation for everything.

We got trouble, we got big trouble.

I want to read Vera Welles' obituary.

Don't tell me you believe that stuff.

Aaaah!

Ms. Broussard, you make it a practice

of bringing your dates onto a murder scene?

Jim was Cynthia's friend as well as mine,

and she's interning for the Daily News.

This makes the fourth machete murder

in three months, lieutenant Tibideaux.

With the usual calling card--

A rooster foot talisman.

I don't buy this voodoo thing.

Neither did Jim. He was convinced

it was a cover for turf wars

for control of the supper clubs

and whatever goes with that.

Well, I warned him to stay out of it.

It wasn't his business.

He was a reporter. One of the best.

You keep right on thinking that way, McCray.

The last notation on Jim Nash's calendar was...

"8:00, pick up J.B. Fletcher

at the Broussards for dinner."

Business or pleasure, Mrs. Fletcher?

Jim was helping me with some research for my new novel.

- How did you know him? - He was with the AP in New York.

Research on what?

Voodoo, illegal gambling, jazz, contemporary New Orleans.

The most interesting thing about contemporary New Orleans

is that it has the highest murder rate in the country.

Meaning that there are some dangerous people out there.

Yes, well, I appreciate your concern, lieutenant.

Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fletcher.

You all through, lieutenant?

Yes. It's good to see you again, Mrs. Broussard.

Or should I be saying Mrs. Renwyck now?

Well, I just can't make up my mind,

so I'll probably just stay with my family name.

It's a name to respect.

Mrs. Fletcher, please call me before you leave New Orleans.

So how's it going?

Well, I've reached a dead end.

Well, it looks like hurricane Andrew went through here.

I'm so sorry, Brent. It's all my fault.

Jessica's looking for the biography of Marie Laveau.

Oh, well, it's here someplace.

I did some reading up

on the so-called high priestess of voodoo-- Ow!

What? Darling, what is it?

Darn. Darn splinter!

Ah, here it is.

Those old-time carpenters

have more reputation than they deserve.

Thank you, Brent. This is wonderful.

Will you be having breakfast, senator?

No, thank you, Yvette. I haven't got time right now.

Jessica. Bye, darling.

Would you excuse me?

Of course.

My daughter will be helping to open Mr. Renwyck's club.

How nice. I'm looking forward to seeing Priscilla again.

Brent?

Darling, I was awake half the night

listening to you toss and moan

and grind your teeth in your sleep.

I'm sorry, darling. Last-minute pressures of getting the club open.

I know how hard you've been working. It's just...

yesterday I tried to withdraw some money

from the Mott Street account...

And there was no balance. I meant to tell you.

The rain last week-- we had a whole slew

of emergency repairs down at the club.

Please, just try to be more frank with me

and stop trying to shield me.

You've always trusted me. Trust me now.

I'm through messing around with you, Vera!

Please, Ralph, don't hurt me!

So what's it gonna be, baby?

You gonna tell me,

or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?

What you got going with that dead reporter?

Jim Nash was just a friend, Ralph.

I'm telling you, I never said anything.

Mm-hmm.

Let's check this out.

White dude,

investigative reporter with the Daily News,

comes a-courting miss Vera Welles.

Mm-mm-mm.

Roussel's really gonna believe that.

What kind of questions was he asking you?

No questions, Ralph. No answers. I swear.

Well, well, well.

Looka here, looka here, looka here.

An airline ticket to Los Angeles.

You thinking about skipping town?

I enrolled in a nursing program out there.

I want to leave this job, Ralph, this whole damn town.

That so? Hmm.

Know what? I don't believe you.

Okay, I'm gonna check you later.

If you want to live, don't leave town.

Uh, I'll be with you in just a moment.

Hi, I'm Vera. Is there anything I can help you with?

Well, I'm not sure which one of us needs the help.

But since you ask, I'm looking for Callie.

Callie died six months ago. There's new owners.

Oh, dear. I'm so sorry.

She was helping me with a book that I'm putting together.

Oh, you must be the writer she talked about.

J.B. Fletcher?

You're into voodoo, right?

Well, um--

Don't tell me you believe that stuff.

I ran across this herb in Jamaica--

Anacycla lupus.

That's illegal.

You fixing to kill somebody, Mrs. Fletcher?

Ha ha! No, no.

But there's a character in my book

that might get around to it.

There's a couple of places you can find it.

Callie had promised me if I ever came back here,

she would take me to the Goula ruins for St. John's Eve.

You wouldn't happen to know anyone who might--

Oh, I don't like that stuff.

But if Callie--

Look, come by sundown,

and I'll see what I can arrange.

Thanks, Vera. I'll do that.

♪ But I'm a woman With a fragile heart ♪

♪ So come and gently Touch my soul ♪

♪ Hold me in your arms ♪

♪ Never let me go ♪

Something bugging you, child?

Yeah, Charlie, something's bugging me.

I gotta use the phone.

Ms. Dauphin? Brent Renwyck.

I'm sorry, Mr. Renwyck, but I--

Please. I know you're busy.

I just wanted to say how happy it'll make Emily

and your mother having you here for the opening.

Well, it was Charlie's idea.

And I hope it goes as well as you hope.

Well, miss Priss, welcome home.

But why are you staying at a hotel, for heaven's sake?

You know you always have your old room here.

I figured it'd be easier this way.

- Emily, I've got to see you. - Well, of course.

I'm just real busy today.

It's got to be today. I have something you've gotta see.

Priscilla, darling, you know Brent expects me

to look like queen of the ball tomorrow night.

Today, Emily!

- It won't wait. - All right.

Be here at the house at 6:00.

Oh! That was your daughter.

She sounded upset.

Priscilla?

Charlie... I think I'm gonna do something

I hope I don't regret.

Your instincts haven't let you down yet.

I needed to hear that.

It's just as we discussed, senator.

Mal's record with three other clubs

makes him clean as a whistle with the city.

You guys run the place,

I'll reimburse the money you took from Mrs. Renwyck

and continue to provide offshore financing.

Frank, there's something new in here.

Paragraph 10-A. It says that if anything happens to me,

the entire operation reverts to Mal Carter.

Boilerplate. That's all, senator.

Yeah, it's in my name. But Frank here,

he's got to protect his investment, you know?

I'd be a fool to sign this!

There's no protection for Emily.

It's too late, senator.

You want city licensing to know

you're opening this place with my money?

You'd lose every penny of it.

And ex-senator Renwyck -

"honest Brent" they call you, right?

Would have perjured his application.

And then I'd have to go to your wife

to collect the money I've got in this place.

It's in triplicate.

Keep one for your files.

Check this out.

That's Nash's buddy, McCray.

Get on his tail. Keep in touch.

Are you getting anything

out of those dusty old books, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, that still remains to be seen, Yvette.

Oh!

Isn't that you there, Yvette?

A very pretty young woman, say, 35 years ago?

I recognize Arthur Broussard as a younger man.

That is you. Ha ha!

Yes. And miss Emily, as a child.

I was her governess then. It was a Sunday picnic.

Then, it was a very lucky find, wasn't it?

What is lucky is your being here, Mrs. Fletcher.

I have a feeling miss Emily will be needing a friend to talk to.

Yvette, what are you talking about?

I swear, this woman has worried over me

ever since my mama died. What's this?

Oh, just an old photo. You were only a baby.

Daddy with his slightly dandified air.

It's just like Brent.

Mom? Oh, Jessica...

Tom and I were looking through Jim's office,

and we found this addressed to you.

Oh, good. Jim mentioned that he was sending me

a packet of newspaper clippings.

Oh, Cynthia, this is going to just save my life.

Tom said that if you can meet him

at the Cafe du Monde around 3:00,

he'll try to fill in some of the blanks.

Of course I'll be there.

Okay, I better get back.

- I'll see you later. Bye. - Bye, darling.

To tell you the truth,

I'm not real comfortable

with her being madly in love with Tom McCray.

Oh, you mean the spin on some of Tom's stories

during Brent's last Campaign.

But he respects Brent, and that's all that counts.

All right, I guess I'm just extra-sensitive.

Well, let's face it,

you don't want your guy to get hurt.

You're right!

I've gone through the clippings that Jim left for me.

Take a look at this one, Tom.

This tells me that, on the day that he was killed,

Jim was going to meet someone at the Goula ruins at 7:00.

I spoke to him just before 6:00, and we were to meet.

He said he'd be coming directly from the paper.

Which means that he changed his plans

between 6:00 and 6:30,

which is about when he called me.

Said he had a phone call to meet someone.

He was all hyped up.

Tom, if you could find out

who called during that half-hour window--

Maybe we'll identify who suckered him to the ruins.

Uh, Tom, don't turn around now,

but there's a not-very-pleasant gentleman

I ran into in a curio shop this morning

showing more than casual interest in what we're doing.

About 6'0", 180 pounds,

sports jacket, open-collar shirt.

Is he wearing something around his neck?

A heavy medallion?

Got to be Ralph Danton.

He's Frank Roussel's muscle.

I wish to heck I could get rid of him.

I've got a meeting later today with Brent Renwyck.

Well, I've had as many beignets as I can handle.

Why don't you just, uh, go off?

You're kidding.

You're not kidding.

Okay. Jessica, you watch yourself.

Excuse me, lady.

Why are you following me?

- Out of my way, lady. - I will not.

You've been following me since Tchoupitoulas street.

I don't know what you're talking about.

You stalked me from Tchoupitoulas street

to the brewery, and then on Basin street

and the Streetcar Named Desire.

- Is there a problem here? - No way.

There most certainly is,

and I want you to call a policeman.

Thanks very much. I really appreciate your help.

"This letter is to inform you

that Arthur Broussard is your natural father.

To avoid political and personal embarrassment,

he sent you to private boarding schools

in New York City.

Although you never knew who supported you,

records at the Juilliard school will reveal

"that it was Arthur Broussard."

I--

I just can't believe it, Priscilla.

Darling, it's an anonymous letter.

I think somebody's just playing a cruel joke on both of us.

You just can't believe your father's arrogance.

Fathering a child with my mother,

then keeping her on as a servant

in a house that should have been her own.

The Juilliard school will clear this up in no time.

They'll tell you what they confirmed for me this morning,

that the anonymous benefactor,

the man who saw me through all those years

in New York City,

was our father-- Arthur Broussard.

Now, you understand,

whatever's left of the estate--

Of course, if-- if all this is true,

you are certainly entitled to your share of the estate,

but, I-I have to confirm this with your mother.

The letter speaks the truth, miss Broussard.

Your father was lonely after your mother died.

He was the only man I ever loved.

Emily, I know it's in your nature to cooperate.

But if you don't, I guess I'll have to sue you.

And I don't have to tell you

what that could do to your family name.

I hope you're getting your kicks, Jessica,

'cause I'm sure not.

Well, consider it all as part of an intriguing story.

Yeah, right. That's if I live to read it.

Vera...

your friend Ralph Danton

just made an appearance.

Sure as heck did.

He doesn't appear to be participating.

I wonder what brings him here.

That's a dangerous question, Jessica.

He's a very dangerous man.

I saw him threatening you in Callie's.

Why was that?

I got too close to the voodoo killing

that Jim Nash was writing about,

so close that I wanted to run away.

But Danton won't let you go.

You see that medallion he wears?

The machete warns that you stay silent,

mind your business, or else.

Oh, Lord, Jessica, I got to get the heck outta here.

My thoughts exactly.

I don't give interviews anymore, McCray,

and you're here partly at the insistence of my stepdaughter,

but mostly to get you off my back.

Fair enough. Just tell me

why Jim Nash's investigation into Frank Roussel

gives you any kind of problem.

Jim Nash is dead.

You're looking at his ghost, Mr. Renwyck.

I'm picking up where he left off.

I got all his tapes, his files,

much of what led him into the bayou that night

to get himself killed.

I'm sorry about Nash.

But as I understand it, he got caught in the middle

of something that has nothing to do with me.

Now, if that's all you came about--

Jim had transcripts

from a computer hacker friend of his.

This guy got into your wife's accounts.

Computer hacking's illegal, and you know it.

Everything's relative.

You blew half of Emily Broussard's assets

in the market. What should have gone

into this place wasn't there anymore.

And along comes this new partner

with a deposit which covered your costs.

Mal Carter is my partner. His record is clean.

My guess is Carter's fronting for Frank Roussel,

and Roussel is laundering offshore money on your name.

I have no comment on those allegations.

Now, will you please get out of here?

You know, in the senate,

I gave you a hard time on some of the issues,

but you, you were an honest politician.

You left that office without a dime,

and I always respected you for that.

And what are you trying to do to me now, McCray?

I owe Jim Nash.

He started something he never got to finish.

Frank, where's your guy Danton?

- Why, you got trouble? - Yeah, we got trouble.

We got big trouble.

I talked to a good friend of mine at Juilliard this morning, Emily,

and it appears that Priscilla is telling the truth.

Your father was her anonymous patron all those years.

Now, there still will have to be proof as to paternity.

And if there's to be a lawsuit,

oh, thank goodness today we have DNA testing.

It's no help, Jess. My father was cremated.

I just-- I can't think clearly.

Look, there's something thoroughly wrong about this letter.

Why is it anonymous? Who wrote it, and with what motive?

And then ask yourself who, besides Yvette,

would have a vested interest in seeing Priscilla

take half of your father's estate?

You know, your father...

liked the word "bamboozled", remember?

Oh, of course I do.

Well, don't be bamboozled, Emily.

Look to yourself, not to Brent or anybody.

Take charge of your own life.

I really don't look forward

to talking to Brent about this.

I can't imagine what's gotten into you,

taking the word of a housekeeper and her daughter!

If Yvette and Priscilla do have a case,

they're entitled to compensation.

From what? Everything's tied up in the club.

Not everything.

Unless there's something you haven't told me.

Anyway, I've asked Walter Drake

to prepare an audit, business and personal.

What on earth's gotten into you?

Don't you trust me anymore?

I have always trusted you,

and I still do.

Only this morning, I realized

I have got to take charge of my own life.

If Priscilla truly is my sister--

Brent...

you've spent your life getting things done for other people.

Now you are finally, finally doing something

for yourself and for us.

And tonight's your opening night.

Let's not spoil it.

For your information, what you and your mother are up to

is called conspiracy to defraud,

and you're both going to go to jail for it, that's a promise!

♪ If you want forever, Baby I got the time ♪

♪ But I'm a woman With a fragile heart ♪

♪ So come and gently Touch my soul ♪

♪ Hold me in your arms And never let me go... ♪

Glad you could make it.

♪ 'Cause I'm a woman With a fragile heart ♪

♪ Love me in a way so true ♪

What's the matter, partner?

This is our night.

You look like you lost your best friend.

- Hi, Jessica. - Oh, hi.

Mom, sorry I'm late.

Darling, isn't Priscilla wonderful?

Mom told you? It's not real.

I don't know why I'm even sitting here

listening to aunt Priscilla.

♪ Love me in a way so true

♪ That'll turn the sky from Cloudy into baby blue ♪

Your girlfriend brought a friend of Nash's

to the Goula ruins?

Yeah. Jessica Fletcher.

Whoa.

You've given us a real problem, Ralph.

- It's me. - Roussel. Brent.

How's the opening going?

Good, but that's not what I called you about.

Emily's lawyer is setting up an audit on all her assets.

Then handle it. She's your wife, not the IRS.

Frank, try to understand.

She only knows about half of what I put into the club.

I need a quick infusion.

The bank's closed, senator.

Frank, you're not giving me any choice.

I-I have to tell Emily,

and then there'll be no way to prevent our arrangement

from reaching the district attorney's office!

Carter here.

Where's Renwyck right now?

He's here. The place is jumping, Frank.

Here's what I want you to do.

You got it.

Well, are you ladies getting all you need?

Brent, it is everything I ever imagined.

Jessica, Cynthia, mind if I borrow the hostess?

Excuse the mysterioso, ladies.

I want you to come home with me.

Now? But what will people say?

Please, don't argue.

There's something I must tell you,

and it can't be done here.

Get your coat. I'll meet you outside.

I've got to have a word with Carter.

I'll see you later.

Thank you all.

We're gonna take a break now,

and when we come back,

a little something from Jamaica.

I'm going to get some air.

What are you doing?

I can't imagine why Brent would want

to leave so early, Jessica.

Unless he was taken ill. In which case--

Oh, my God!

Oh, God!

He's dead.

Brent is dead.

When Brent and I got home,

he started telling me about

these terrible financial problems we were facing,

and... I couldn't handle it.

I-- I went upstairs

and I started to get ready for bed.

How long were you up there?

I don't know, uh, 15, 20 minutes.

Jess, why did I leave him down here like that?

- He needed me. - Don't punish yourself.

I only came back downstairs

when I heard you and Cynthia drive up.

The coroner's preliminary examination

indicates that it was a heart attack, Mrs. Broussard.

The only mark on the senator

was a small puncture wound on his right hand.

Oh, Jess, there was that splinter

he caught the other day.

She's nowhere in the house, lieutenant.

We'll find her.

But where could Yvette have gone?

I'd invited her to stay at our table at the opening.

Yeah, mama, come on. I think it's time you got some sleep.

- All right. - Come on.

Lieutenant, if the coroner's preliminary diagnosis

was a heart attack,

I assume all of this homicide activity

has to do with this odd little doll

that I assume represents Brent.

You're real tight with Tom McCray, Mrs. Fletcher,

so you know it wouldn't be the first time

that voodoo has taken the rap for the bad boys.

And so, of course, you are testing the brandy snifter

for toxic substances?

Right again, Mrs. Fletcher.

Excuse me.

Oh, Jessica. I just heard it off the wire. Where's Cynthia?

She went upstairs with Emily.

Tom! Oh, darling!

How's Emily holding up?

Um, well, she's upstairs asleep.

And what about you? Something I can do for you?

Yeah. Just hold onto me. Hold on.

Jessica?

I seem to have left my handbag at the club.

I won't be long, Cynthia. It's just a short walk.

Charlie's by the piano, over there.

Yvette called.

Hell of an opening night.

Just tragic, Charlie.

Cynthia and Emily-- they okay?

They'll be all right in time. Is Priscilla still here?

Mrs. Fletcher.

And what brings you back?

I thought I'd spend a few moments with Priscilla.

Please convey my condolences to Mrs. Renwyck.

She must be broken up.

The petal I found at the house

came from this crown of gardenias.

You were there, Priscilla. Why?

I saw Emily and the senator leave.

We were on our break, so I went to the house.

I thought that if I could just talk to them together,

I could settle things.

When I got to the house,

Mr. Renwyck was alone. He was already dead.

I just ran. I-- I didn't want to get involved.

How did you get in, Priscilla?

The front door was locked.

I lost the key ages ago, so...

I went around to the back of the house.

To the french doors.

Yeah. It was open.

Why is this so important, Mrs. Fletcher?

The man died of a heart attack.

I don't believe so,

and neither does lieutenant Tibideaux.

When Cynthia and I found Brent,

there was a voodoo doll on the floor.

Not when I was there.

Well, then, besides you,

there must have been someone else in that room

between the time that Emily left Brent

and when she returned.

You mean, the person who left the voodoo doll?

No. You don't think that--

Your mother.

If you really want to help Yvette,

go and tell lieutenant Tibideaux that you were there.

Okay.

Is my mom at the house?

Now, you go along to the lieutenant.

I believe I know where I might find her.

The goddess of the wind will tell you

Priscilla has gone to the police.

Oya knows Priscilla has done nothing wrong.

The goddess will protect her.

Yvette, a doll representing Brent was left by the body.

When I went home,

I saw Priscilla hurrying away from the house.

Then I found Mr. Renwyck.

I had no way of knowing how he died.

I didn't want to take the chance

that Priscilla would be accused of anything.

So you left the voodoo doll.

Yes.

Vera!

I know you're in here, baby.

Where you at?

Yeah, I saw the lights on a half a block away, girl.

I know you're in here!

Vera!

See, Roussel was right.

I should've done you when he told me to.

Yeah, yeah, come on.

Miss Dauphin, your daughter has informed me

of the dispute that you had

with Mrs. Broussard

and her husband.

Mom, that's not what I told them.

The dispute is with me, not with her.

You can spare us all.

Fingerprint analysis showed that the doll

that was placed by the senator's body was yours.

- That is true, lieutenant. - Mom, shut up!

Do you have any objection to accompanying me downtown?

Mom has an explanation for everything.

Then it'll be up to her explanation

to convince us of her innocence, won't it?

I will go with you, lieutenant.

Mom!

Mom, I'm sorry.

I wish I'd never seen that letter.

I wish I could take it all back, what I said to Emily.

Stop caterwauling, child.

Everything will be all right.

Yeah, but I told you...

- Hello? - I need to speak to Mrs. Fletcher.

There's so much I could talk about.

So I got to thinking, of all people,

you'd see my predicament.

I go to the cops, I'm dead meat.

Roussel has someone in the police department,

so I need someone that's gonna listen

and see that I don't get hurt.

Oh, hi, Tom. Vera, this is Tom McCray.

I asked him to join us.

I think that Tom's the person who could help you.

Jim's friend Tom McCray?

Jim told me about you, too, Vera.

We're all right here?

I guess.

Jessica, I found out something very interesting.

The call that suckered Jim to the Goula ruins?

Turns out it came from a phone belonging to a lady dentist.

Now, she had other calls charged to her.

Most of those calls went to Frank Roussel's limousine.

Then it's likely that the dentist's number was stolen

and cloned onto an illegal phone.

That's easy. Ralph's cell phone.

He's always boasting about never having to pay the bill,

and he calls Roussel the whole time.

Roussel to Danton to Nash.

Danton set Jim up and killed him.

By the way, city desk had a report from the police.

Brent's postmortem turned up no toxic substances.

Then they're back to calling it a heart attack.

And they released Yvette.

This morning, Emily told me

that Brent borrowed money from her and Frank Roussel

and couldn't pay either one of them back.

It seems to me like Mr. Renwyck's right hand

didn't know what his left hand was doing.

Right hand, left hand.

Ha! You know, Vera, whether you know it or not,

you just put your finger on it.

On what? I did?

Now I am certain that Brent did not have a heart attack,

and I believe I know how he was murdered.

Oh, now, Jessica, you gotta clue me in here.

Well, not just yet, Tom.

But you'll have one heck of an exclusive if I'm right.

Now, I want you to tell me what you left out

at Callie's the other day about anacycla lupus.

Funny that you should ask the question that you did

about a second puncture wound.

The autopsy surgeon did locate a splinter puncture

in Renwyck's left hand.

But did he do a micro

on the puncture of his right hand?

Yes, he tracked it about 2 1/2 inches.

Like Renwyck stuck himself with some kind of pin.

But what's this got to do with anything?

Renwyck died of a heart attack,

and that's the way it's going on the books.

Lieutenant, if you value your reputation as a homicide--

This case is closed, Mrs. Fletcher.

Like he stuck himself with a pin or something.

What is it, Jessica?

It's about a horseshoe

and an odd-shaped pin, Emily.

I pray that one has nothing to do with the other.

I have to get in touch with Vera.

Mrs. Fletcher. What brings you down here?

First, I'm here for Emily Broussard.

There's a letter to Priscilla

that could drastically change both of their lives,

except that it's a lie.

Then there is the matter of Brent Renwyck's murder.

I don't know anything about a letter.

And Mr. Renwyck--

He had a heart attack.

Wrong on both counts.

Here is a 35-year-old snapshot

of the Broussard's young chauffeur - you, Charlie -

wearing your horseshoe ring.

The same one you still wear today.

Emily was ten years old.

She was too young to remember.

So I spent a few months with the Broussards.

What's that got to do with Priscilla?

It's no use, Charlie.

If miss Emily takes us to court,

they are going to demand a DNA test,

and then they'll find out that you are Priscilla's father.

Yvette...

Come on, Charlie, it's over.

You talked me into it, and I should have known better.

Mr. Broussard was my friend, and that was all.

He saw Priscilla's talent

and paid for her education in New York.

Charlie was my only lover.

So you think I killed Mr. Renwyck

to get him out of the way of--

No. There's someone with more of a motive

than you could possibly have ever had.

Priscilla's at the house.

I think she deserves an explanation.

In the long run, I think that she'll be far happier

finally knowing who her father is.

Where the devil is she?

No big deal.

She swore she'd be here.

If you're looking for Vera Welles, gentlemen,

about now, she's boarding a plane for California.

She asked me to stand in for her.

Mrs. Fletcher, Vera had private business

with Mr. Roussel and me.

I'm afraid your private business has gone public

as of Vera's deposition to the police this afternoon

and Ralph Danton's arrest.

She called you at my request.

Why? Just what do you have in mind, lady?

Emily's heartache over Brent's death,

her self-recriminations,

and a deadly, traceless substance called anacycla lupus

that produces almost instantaneous paralysis of the heart muscle.

It only takes a drop-- Say, at the point of a pin.

Last night, at the club,

you were wearing your boutonniere,

the one you attached to your lapel with an unusual pin.

Just before Brent and Emily left the club,

you suddenly disappeared.

When I returned after the club had closed,

your boutonniere and the pin were gone.

And this morning, thanks to an idle remark of Vera's,

I realized why it was missing.

I asked the police to check the puncture

on Brent's right hand.

They confirmed it was made by a pin

very much like the one that you're wearing now.

It was you who killed Brent Renwyck.

Well, I was saving this for Vera Welles...

but...

Freeze, Carter!

Hold it right there!

Ralph Danton decided

he wasn't gonna take the fall for you guys.

He gave us chapter and verse of the bayou machete killings,

and he confessed to being your anacycla lupus connection.

Let's go.

Come on.

That item should be enough to convict,

wouldn't you say, lieutenant?

Thanks to you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Let me give you a lift to the house?

Oh, Walter, thank you.

That is such good news!

Yes, yes, of course I'll stay in touch. Bye.

- Why the big smile, Emily? - Oh!

It seems that that contract

that Brent signed with Mal Carter is null and void.

Initially, Brent and I were joint owners,

and I never gave him my power of attorney.

Oh, that's fabulous, mom!

You're in the restaurant business now.

Well, Jessica, it's time we get you to the airport.

You're right.

Bye, Emily. Now, you take care.

Oh, I'm gonna miss you, Jess--

Poking around, turning my library upside down.

Promise me you'll come back soon.

Oh, I promise. But I must finish my book first.

I think I've had my fill of voodoo for a while.