All language subtitles for MrSWr1204

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

She’s scared away all my paying guests.

- I thought you were selling the place. - That’s my intention.

- My mother’s not gonna sign your contract. - You’d better tell her that.

Her father believes she was murdered.

Don’t the dead cry out to us to right wrongs?

Her ghost haunts the garden here.

I don’t believe in spirits either, Mrs. Fletcher.

Bloody foolishness! I mean,

just who the hell do you think you are?

Don’t advise a friend to break his own laws.

Nan told me about it before she disappeared.

She said it came from the Cromwell treasure.

It’s a fake, not a very good one.

- Someone is up to a very cruel joke. - Treasure’s a myth, Jess.

Nan must’ve stumbled upon their hiding place.

The rats had eaten the flesh off her bones.

Nan, darling! Don’t run from me!

Nan! I see you! I’m coming!

Wait!

No!

Nan. Oh, dearest child.

Nan, no.

As I remember, the best route from here

is through Rossaveal, and then Knock.

Jess, have you forgotten

I was born in the village of Ballyknock?

I’ll have us there in a jiffy.

Rory, your jiffy is anybody else’s two hours.

How long is it since you were down here to see Eileen?

It’s a long time. The commissioner had me

on this smuggling operation out of Dundalk, over a year.

That’s the price you pay for being promoted to inspector.

It was like pulling teeth getting this little holiday.

Listen, Jess, about Eileen.

She’s been a widow two years now,

and you understand her sensibilities better than I.

Would you let me know if I get too pushy?

If I carry on a little too much?

Eileen’s one lady who’ll let you know herself.

Yeah.

Rory?

I might’ve made a mistake 30 years ago.

This time, I may just up and marry that girl.

You finish your tea.

I’ll get the check and bring the car.

Oh! I’m so sorry.

I simply wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m sorry.

No, it’s my fault.

Well, thank you very much.

Since when did I agree to this clause in the contract?

That was never there before. Yeah, Vincent Nader here.

There’ll be a Walter Berkeley waiting for me.

Tell him I’ll be an hour late.

Can’t you get any more speed out of this thing?

Oh, cut it out, Vince, you’ll get us killed.

It was your plane that was two damn hours late.

What about your half of the financing?

You said it’d be in escrow last week.

Oh, I don’t anticipate any further delays.

A couple of weeks from now,

we’ll be starting work on the hotel.

Not just any hotel, Lafferty. She’ll be a five-star.

Like nothing you ever saw in this rundown neck of the woods.

It’s such a disappointment.

I was so looking forward to seeing the two of you,

and now here it is, with tears instead of smiles.

It’s a terrible thing to have happened.

But Jess and I’ll try and cheer you up.

I remember Nan Conroy.

She was helping you in the kitchen three years ago.

I think she had a real talent for writing and poetry.

Such a talent for an 18-year-old.

Her father thought she’d tired of Ballyknock,

and gone off to Belfast with some boy.

- That was about a year ago. - Mrs. O’Bannon,

I called about the door being welded shut as you requested.

The men’ll be here tomorrow.

What a dreadful way for Nan to have died, superintendent.

How did it happen?

Excuse me, Jess. Eileen, that door was rusted shut

- as long as I can remember. - There’s the mystery.

We had strong westerlies about the time Nan disappeared.

Our best guess is the door must’ve opened

and then blew shut on her.

Oh, congratulations on the promotion, inspector.

If there’s a problem in the village,

it’ll be a comfort to have a professional from Dublin

showing me and the lads the latest procedures.

I think not, superintendent. I’m on me holidays.

I take in kids for the summer holidays

from the Dublin art colleges. It is great fun now.

I love this old place.

I’ll take the bags up, ma’am.

Thank you, Leonard.

Leonard, he’s the new houseman and chef.

A bit dour, you know, but his Irish stew’s...

pure nectar.

And Deirdre will be here?

Oh, she’ll be here down from Dublin for dinner.

And Ian is in the village at this very minute

trying to get a loan for some new farm equipment.

What was that?

I thought you were selling the place.

You said you were moving up to Dublin.

That’s my intention.

But Ian is doing his best to talk me out of it.

I’ll be damned if he’ll succeed.

- Matthew. - Hello, Ian.

The usual, Ian?

- Ain’t it terrible about Nan Conroy? - Terrible isn’t the word.

- It’s a black day all around. - Thanks.

- You’re welcome. - You saw the bank, then.

Aye. The sods got wind of mother’s plan to sell.

Now they have to wait and see how that goes

before they’ll make up their mind

and risk their precious money.

Anyhow, I’ve still got the Cork banks lined up.

- Is your sister down yet? - Aye. Later on today.

And try to keep that lovesick look off your puss, will you?

You know how it turns Deirdre off.

Oh, Ian.

Anyway, it’s gonna be some kind of mixer.

Mother’s got her hotel magnate staying.

Hey, speak of the devil,

here he is with his pretty wife.

Do you hear the rumors he’s out to cut the heart out of the old wing,

and put in a bar-sauna-bloody pool room?

Ah, Ian. I don’t believe you’ve met my wife, Andrea.

How do you do?

And that’s Walter Berkeley,

- the architect who... - Excuse me.

Mr. Berkeley can draw all the pretty pictures he wants.

I thought I’d made it clear.

My mother’s not gonna sign your contract.

You’d better tell her that.

Look, there’ll be plenty of jobs for you and your people

once the hotel opens.

Roast your jobs, all right?

None of my people will be carrying golf bags and suitcases

into any blasted hotel of yours.

So let me tell you once again.

Upon my honor, your hotel is not gonna happen.

Dublin said little more than you’d be at the castle.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be on my budget

and advised against any sort of a fuss.

You mean there won’t be a whirlwind of cocktail parties?

Something to do with money-laundering?

Now where the bloody hell did you hear that?

- Just scuttlebutt. - It so happens it’s true.

But as far as anybody’s concerned, I’m here on holiday.

- Of course, sir. - You got it?

Yes, sir. I handled the inquiries personally,

and they’ll be expecting a visit or a call from you.

Good. All the businesses in the area?

All the proprietors?

Do you think the bank’ll give us a record of revenues?

I do.

Then that’s a good start.

Nicely done, super. Thank you very much.

Have you thought about what branch of medicine

you might want to specialize in, Deirdre?

I’m through with the clinics.

In two weeks’ time, I start a year of residency.

There’ll be time for that decision.

You don’t seem too sure yet.

Well, see, I have this problem, Jess.

Maybe I’ve been in too many operating rooms,

but I’m beginning to wonder whether I have

whatever it is that you need to have to be a first-rate doctor.

- Mrs. Fletcher. - Hello.

Glad to see you back. Deirdre, you look terrific.

You’re not so bad yourself, mister.

Hey, you’ll never guess who’s about to have a baby.

I’m sure I couldn’t.

My sister Kitty.

Good news. Who’s she having it for?

Well, you remember Ernest Lowry? They’re married, of course.

It happened rather quickly.

Here, show me a drink, and I’ll catch you up.

- Excuse us? - Oh, yes.

- More coffee, Mrs. Fletcher? - Oh, thank you, Moira.

I’m sure today was very painful for you.

You and Nan were very close.

We’re burying her tomorrow.

I know. I plan to be there.

Some of the finest pieces of Cromwell weaponry in the world.

Really? Better feast your eyes on them then.

They’ll be hanging in a hotel lobby before long.

You’ve got an antique business yourself

up in Dublin, haven’t you? Yeah.

How can you afford to spend so much time down here then?

Assuming, of course, that’s any of your business,

the Cromwell period’s a specialization of mine.

Also, Eileen’s kindnesses make it very hard for me

to stay away from Ballyknock.

Oh, really? Well, now that you bring the bloody subject up...

Rory... excuse us, Dr. Sullivan,

but I really must have a word with the inspector.

Well, you asked me to monitor your behavior.

If you don’t want to embarrass Eileen,

you can start off by avoiding him.

He... he was baiting me, Jess.

Yes, well, I have an even bigger problem.

I can’t seem to find my wallet.

So, how was their weekend in Dublin?

Like the others.

A light lunch, his choice of wine,

Medoc ’83, 30 quid a bottle.

Afternoons spent in a little love nest off Malahide road.

Your wife paid for everything.

Mr. Nader, I’ve been thinking.

My nights and weekends are worth more than what you’re paying me.

You wouldn’t want the party I’m keeping an eye on

to find out what you’re up to.

You’ll continue to do just as I say, at my price.

Or Mrs. O’Bannon’ll learn that she has an ex-convict

in her house.

There’s more inside, Siobhan.

Stop your sniveling.

I can’t help it.

I keep thinking of Nan dying in that awful place,

all because of what she thought she’d found.

The girl was a silly dreamer and look where it got her.

You leave her be, Leonard.

And you stop your bullying,

or you’ll have a face full of knuckles.

Did you forget?

Your mother said I could leave early.

We were supposed to go see a new band in Rossaveal.

I know, but I had other things to do.

Hey.

Sh.

- It’s all right. It’s all right. - I’ll miss Nan so.

I know. She’s in the best of places now.

I’m trying my hand

at this really torrid historical romance.

Anne Rice meets Barbara Cartland.

Mel Gibson and David Hasselhoff clash swords

over the bold, proud, full-breasted Rafaella.

Sounds absolutely marvelous, Zuleika.

What seems to be the problem?

I mean, are you having writer’s block?

Mmm, inspiration.

There’s gobs of history around this place,

but no romance.

Oh, Jessica. You’re giving me a very strange look.

Oh. I’m so sorry,

but, you know, I’m convinced that we have met before,

but I cannot, for the life of me, think where.

Zuleika is a very distinctive name.

Please, don’t strain yourself.

You might live to regret it.

And then again, maybe you won’t.

Our gay divorcee’s been blotto every night for two months now.

I’m just surprised that Eileen hasn’t shown her the door.

She would, except Zuleika is one of our few paying guests.

Oh.

There’s a phone call for you, Rory.

- The phone is right there. - Thank you. Excuse me.

Yeah. This is Lanahan.

Sounds like you’re having a lark up there

at the castle, inspector.

Yeah, well, that’s a fact. Who might this be?

You were in to see that boob superintendent Joyce

this afternoon.

He’ll be no help with your money-laundering investigation.

Oh, but you can be, is that it?

Where do we go from here?

Mind you, it’s just between you and me.

Else someone close could get hurt.

All right. When and where?

I’ll be in touch.

Jessica, this young man has something of yours.

Remember at the pub this morning, when we sort of collided?

I found this under the table after you left.

- Oh. What a relief, mister... - Peter Franklin.

To be quite honest, Peter Franklin,

I never expected to see this again.

I’m hitching up to Tipperary,

so it wasn’t too far out of my way.

Come and get dried out by the fire,

and I’ll have the kitchen put up some supper for you.

Oh, I don’t want to intrude.

Nonsense. You’ll go to Tipperary in the morning

when this storm has passed, right?

Well, now, if that doesn’t beat all.

Why is it I don’t believe a word that he said?

Eileen, this morning, you seemed less than willing

to say how Jack Conroy had found his daughter.

He was following her ghost.

Come on now. You know very well that I don’t...

I know. I know. You don’t believe in ghosts.

That’s why I put you and Rory, a couple of empiricists here,

- in the old wing. - Thanks.

Where I have seen and heard Nan myself.

Yes, down there.

Listen, Jessica, she’s scared away

all my regular paying guests.

If you don’t see her, you will most certainly hear her.

Oh, and the awful clawing and scratching.

Do you know, when Jack Conroy found Nan’s body,

the rats had eaten the flesh off her bones.

I’ll say no more.

Sleep tight, Jess. Breakfast at 9:00, hmm?

Well, good night.

Jess?

Oh, sorry. What the devil is that?

Well, Eileen says that it’s Nan Conroy’s ghost.

You know, common sense tells us it’s not a ghost, right?

Oh, absolutely. Of course.

Many of these ancient old places have air shafts

that play tricks with the most normal sounds.

Right. There. You see, it stopped.

Yeah.

- Here you go, Jess. - Ah, thanks.

Rory, you asked my advice.

Well, during dinner, I heard you, in so many words,

offer yourself to Eileen as her, quote,

"only escape from a lonely and bitter widowhood," unquote.

Wrong.

Oh, Jess, it loses a little something in the translation.

Thank you, dear. You see?

You’re already a great help to a poor lovelorn copper.

- Good night, Jess. - Good night.

We’ll have this welded up

and no one will get in here again.

A dungeon’s a dungeon.

A place to be put into and not get out.

You’ve not missed anything, Mrs. Fletcher.

Nan was a bright and intelligent young woman.

It wasn’t in the cards for her to be trapped like that.

The child had more curiosity than common sense.

The old hasp was corroded and simply gave out.

A year later, the door is conveniently open

so that Jack Conroy can follow

his daughter’s so-called ghost inside?

I don’t believe in spirits either, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, then, you must be wondering

who’d want us to believe in Nan’s ghost

in the first place, and why.

Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. O’Bannon.

Oh, not at all, Jack.

Did you see the way the sun came out

when father Foley gave the blessing?

Poor Nan’s at peace now. Thank you for coming.

Moira, tell Mrs. Fletcher.

Moira?

Mr. Conroy doesn’t believe Nan’s death was an accident.

And what do you believe?

Don’t the dead cry out to us to right wrongs?

Nan will tell us if it’s so.

I believe that the dead rely on us to tell their stories,

and that leaves it up to you and me, Moira.

Sad occasion, Jessica.

Poor Jack Conroy, he’s not himself.

Danny Mayhew works for the building commission.

He told me Nader’s lawyer filed building specs

on the hotel early this morning.

Do me a favor then.

The commission keeps its files in your station house.

What would it take to see that those papers were lost for a few days?

Oh, Ian, I couldn’t do that.

Damn it, Matthew, a week or two is all I need.

Now the Cork banks are gonna come through, you’ll see.

I’m a policeman, man.

Don’t advise a friend to break his own laws.

Sorry if I startled you, Mrs. Nader.

I couldn’t believe it when you walked in last night.

- You followed me here. - No, I didn’t.

- Uh-huh. - It just happened. I swear.

You’re gonna spoil everything ’cause Vincent’s getting very suspicious.

Well, hold up a minute.

You know, after we parted ways in Dublin,

I went to this funky little pub off the green.

- Mmm-hmm. - And this little red-headed guy,

a total stranger, comes up to me, sits down next to me,

and like a scene out of a movie,

he’s offering me five grand to do this little job for him

here in Ballyknock.

I mean, is that... is that fate or not?

I think Vincent is pulling a trick.

What small job?

Well, I... I can’t say. I mean, it’s legal and...

You stole Mrs. Fletcher’s wallet.

Let me tell you how that happened.

I don’t want to hear about it.

Now, please, get it through

your thick head once and for all, darling,

that I cherish every single moment we have together,

- but I just... - But...

- you love your marriage more. - Mmm-hmm.

And I promise you, I promise you, I won’t spoil it.

All I’m asking for is time!

Another growing season, and we’ll have the new equipment.

Another growing season.

How many years have I heard that?

First from your father, God rest him, now from you.

Stop about my father, all right?

It was his wish that I do something with this place.

This place has been falling apart from day one.

It was your father’s airs and pretensions

to be a gentleman farmer

that had his wife making beds!

Oh, yes! And scouring the pots and pans,

selling the pictures off the walls, just to stay alive!

I lived with your father’s pipe dream for years

before you were born, Ian,

and now is my chance to get out from under it.

Now there’s a pipe dream, mother.

Huh? Dublin, the Trinity crowd,

the theater and all the rest of it.

You expect these young artsy-craftsies

to be sitting at the feet of a farmer’s wife from Ballyknock?

It’s bloody foolishness! I mean,

just who the hell do you think you are?

Enough!

Yeah, listen.

Get me what you can on the owner of a whatnot shop.

Yeah, in Ballyknock, by the name of Jack Conroy.

I’ll get right on it.

Sean!

You’ve got a hammerlock on the poor woman.

Show more respect to our American visitors.

Miss Brown, isn’t it? You’re at the castle?

I’m sure he meant no harm.

Superintendent Arthur Joyce.

Look, my concern shouldn’t go unrewarded.

Can I give you a lift to the castle?

Oh, if it’s on your way. Thank you.

Well, of course I loved you then, you big lummox.

But you went off to Dublin and joined the Garda,

and that told me how deeply your great passion for me ran.

Oh, now, wait a minute, girl.

You upped and married Patrick O’Bannon

like he was the last man on earth.

That certainly told me something, didn’t it?

Patrick O’Bannon?

All right. All right. I admit it.

I let something lovely slip through me fingers.

And that’s the truth of it.

It is true that in those days,

I had the face and the body and the brains.

- No wonder you fell for me. - Like a ton of bricks.

But you know something,

as far as I’m concerned, you’re still the same woman.

Oh, shush, lad.

- Age has its compensations then. - Mmm-hmm.

But tell me, what am I going to do about Ian?

He has me driven half-crazy.

Yes, I... oh, no. Wait a minute, you tell me something first.

What about this John Sullivan fella?

Sure, John’s been down here fishing around.

I’ve said no to him three times.

Oh. Well, congratulations. You know how I feel about that.

Down here a lot, has he? This last year?

What’s that beady-eyed look for?

Beady-eyed, me? Aw, nothing.

I was just thinking. It’s nothing.

Well, you always did too much thinking, love.

Ian!

May I have a word with you?

I’m here, aren’t I?

Mr. Nader’s solicitor

went into the village records office this morning,

only to find the papers he had filed yesterday were missing.

The lock to the office door had been broken.

So why are you telling me this?

It’s going to take Mr. Nader three more weeks

to file new papers.

If you’re thinking

Ian had something to do with it, superintendent,

we were together last night, all night.

Well, then,

there’s nothing else to discuss.

You’re a blithering idiot, you.

And you should be ashamed of yourself.

- What the hell did you lie for? - As if you didn’t know.

Look, I didn’t take the papers.

I’d give anything to know who it was.

So I carried Ian’s words with me into sleep.

Well, am I sacrificing his dream for just a silly one of my own?

Maybe it is my foolishness.

Well, you won’t know until you get there.

A fine Georgian townhouse off St. Stephen’s green

with one of those lovely bright red doors.

Oh, there’s an alternative now.

Rory wants to marry. What do you think?

Well, I love you both too much to express an opinion.

What? He’s energetic. He’s handsome.

I’d have companionship in my old age.

- Who is that? - Oh, that’s Mary O’Hara.

Oh. Of course, the Chatelaine of the castle in Cromwell’s time.

His soldiers were hanging her people.

Didn’t she seduce one of the English captains?

Mmm-hmm, yes, and skewered him in his sleep.

Then, she hid all the treasure

that Cromwell had robbed from the monasteries.

You know, her ghost haunts the garden

here on midsummer’s eve. I saw her once.

Come on, Eileen.

I saw something the other night.

Now, someone is up to a very cruel joke,

or maybe something more serious than that.

If you mean that they’re trying

to drive me out of Ballyknock castle,

well, they don’t need a ghost to do it.

What’s really bothering you, Jess?

Nan Conroy’s dreadful death.

You know, her father believes she was murdered.

Jack Conroy’s only looking

for a scapegoat for his own guilt.

Yes, but what was Nan Conroy

doing in that dungeon in the first place?

But the child was following one of her fantasies.

The Cromwellian treasure

that Mary O’Hara hid for the future of Erin.

This Ballyknock pattern

is a great hit back in Cabot Cove, Mr. Conroy.

In fact, I need to order six dinner plates for a friend.

- It’ll take a day or two. - Oh, that’ll be fine.

My goodness.

Nan was becoming quite proficient

with her watercolors, wasn’t she?

That’s Mary O’Hara’s grave at the old cemetery, isn’t it?

I believe so.

I was rather worried

by something you said to Moira yesterday after the funeral.

You said that Nan’s death was not an accident,

that she was murdered.

Indeed.

It’ll be just a moment, miss Brown.

I have your order wrapped.

Oh, no hurry. I’ll look around.

Mrs. Fletcher,

whatever I said yesterday was out of grief.

I’d appreciate your forgetting the whole occasion.

I’d very much like to buy that watercolor, if it’s for sale.

It’s not. For sale, that is.

Nan would want you to have it. Consider it a gift.

Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.

I’ll have it wrapped when you come back for your pottery.

Fine.

Afternoon, Zuleika.

These kids met here last summer, formed their own band,

and tomorrow they’re off to the States

with their music and dancing.

Well, you’ve nurtured and launched them all.

You deserve to be as proud as you look.

Has anyone seen Ian?

So next spring, I’ll qualify for the sergeant’s exam.

It’ll mean a nice raise.

Enough to think about settling down.

You ought to know, we’ll be needing a doctor here

in Ballyknock before long.

You remember the old fellow over there, don’t you?

Sure. That’s Dr. Mulcahy.

He delivered you, me and half the population of the county.

Well, you’ll enjoy this one.

Last week, Mulcahy performed an appendectomy

on a patient who was in for adenoids.

Matthew, do me a favor and stop what you’re doing.

I don’t know what you mean, Dee.

I haven’t given a thought to what my life will be

after I finish my training, if I finish it.

But raising a family, even with someone of your outstanding qualifications,

is certainly not at the top of my list.

Well, no thanks for your sarcasm,

but that wasn’t my meaning at all.

Furthermore, you can take your frowns and your ill humor,

and you know what you can bloody well do with them.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, Matthew, I didn’t...

You’ve forgotten who you are, you. You used to be fun.

I promise I won’t be bothering you again.

Hello?

All right, let’s get this over with.

Mrs. Nader, I’m simply asking,

why it is your husband spent last night alone.

You’re under no obligation to answer these questions, Andrea.

- Here you go, sir. - It’s all right, Paul.

I wasn’t feeling very well, so I stayed in our room.

Vincent felt it was his obligation to go to the party.

Are you aware that your husband

was preparing to sue you for divorce?

No, she was not aware.

Well, this appears to be a letter to that effect,

addressed to a law firm in Boston,

mentioning a Peter Franklin.

You happen to know where he is?

I’m here, superintendent.

Ah, Mr. Franklin.

For now, I’ll ask you not to leave the vicinity.

That’s it for now. Thank you all for your cooperation.

Tell me, superintendent, is your focus

exclusively on the guests here at the castle?

Robbery-homicide, Mrs. Fletcher?

True, Mr. Nader’s wallet,

money and a very expensive watch are missing,

but we keep all our options open, don’t we, inspector?

There’s a possibility

the apparent robbery might be to throw us off the track.

And the phone call that Mr. Nader took...

Came from a public phone a short distance down the road.

If the murder was premeditated,

I don’t expect to find any prints.

Good day, Mrs. Fletcher, thank you for your help.

Mrs. O’Bannon. Inspector.

Good day to you.

Keeping our nose clean, are we, Leonard?

Oh, yes, sir.

Oh, wouldn’t you know it, Jess, me dear,

me first proper holiday in three years,

and I have to run into something like this.

Well, I have to tell you, despite your grumbling,

I don’t think you’re on a holiday at all.

What kind of a remark is that?

All those mysterious phone calls you’ve been getting,

and since when do you carry a service revolver on holiday?

You’re incorrigible, you know that, don’t you?

All right. But not one word of what I’m gonna tell you.

You understand that?

Last year, the department put in

some new precautions against money-laundering.

These huge sums of money were passing through Dublin banks

into a numbered account in Geneva.

Well, some of the newly issued notes

had serial numbers that were first circulated in Ballyknock.

Now that’s very interesting, Rory,

because the more I hear about Nan Conroy’s fixation

- on the Cromwell treasure... - Treasure’s a myth, Jess.

The more convinced I am

that Nan was murdered, and your laundering case...

Whatever you do, stay out of the laundering case, Jess.

There’s somebody out there ready to talk.

I’ve got a feeling...

What’s this about a murder, anyway?

Well, look at the logic of it, Rory.

No one but her killer knew that she was actually dead

until her father found her in the dungeon.

Oh, I get your point.

Her so-called ghost appeared before that.

Suppose the purpose of the ghost

was to discourage people

from going near the old wing of the castle.

Jess, if you’re back on that Cromwellian treasure,

it’s been talked about for three centuries,

and nobody’s found it yet. Come on.

The policemen are gone.

Aye. So run up a flag.

Hand me that spanner there, will you?

Ian, if I asked you a question, do you promise not to be angry?

If it’s about Mr. Nader and his unfortunate demise,

I’m happy as a clam. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Perhaps we can all get on with our lives now.

- Be serious. - I am serious.

You see, somebody did us a big, big favor.

Now I’ve got to get to the Cork banks

so we can refinance this farm.

Where were you when Mr. Nader was killed?

I was here. The thresher threw a bearing, and I was...

No, listen. Just suppose that isn’t true.

That’d mean you’d need someone to say it was.

So what’re you saying? You don’t believe me?

No, I don’t.

That’s great. You just stay out of it, Moira, all right?

Anyway, how could you provide me with an alibi

if, at the time, you were sitting in the great hall

with Mrs. Fletcher and my mother?

Oh, I hadn’t thought. You’re right. I’d be no alibi at all.

How did you know that? That I was in the great hall

with Mrs. Fletcher and your mother

when you said you were here mending your thresher?

I tell you what then, you go to the superintendent

with your suspicions, Moira.

You do that.

I can’t be too long away from the station.

Have you found your man yet, superintendent?

How do you know it’s not a woman, miss Brown?

Hmm. Men do the killing, we do the loving.

Who’s your culprit?

You’ll know soon enough.

Andrea, please. Would you do something?

I’ll get in touch with an attorney.

Yeah. And find that guy in Dublin who set me up.

Come along.

We have two witnesses that placed Mr. Franklin

in the garden area

moments before Mr. Nader was killed.

Oh.

Mr. Nader’s watch and wallet

were found hidden in his bedroll upstairs.

Seems he has quite a penchant for wallets.

He admits to stealing yours

in order to get himself a ticket into the castle.

What did he mean in Dublin he was set up?

Oh, it was just a cock-and-bull story, inspector.

Something about running into a stranger in a bar

on Grafton street.

If you’ll excuse me.

Excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher, may I see that for a moment?

- Of course. - Thank you.

Oh, no. Well, you...

Oh, you almost had me fooled. I thought it was genuine.

Well, it certainly seems very old.

Eileen will tell you that I personally cataloged

every piece from the Cromwell period.

I assure you it’s a fake, not a very good one.

Oh.

He’s lying, Mrs. Fletcher.

You put this in my bag.

Nan’s father found it in her stuff at the shop

and wanted me to have it.

Somebody got into my things last night.

- I had it under my pillow. - Where did it come from?

Nan told me about it before she disappeared.

She said it came from the Cromwell treasure.

I didn’t believe her then, but I do now.

And so should you.

Nan was acting all balmy and saying stuff like,

"Tonight’s the night, girl, all or nothing."

She said she’d found the Cromwell treasure.

Someone was after her, and she might never see me again.

Who was after her?

Mr. Buttons was good to her.

It was dirty digits she was afraid of.

Dirty digits?

Were these people from the village?

No one I ever saw.

You never knew with Nan.

She was bright as a shilling,

but still, you know, she had a screw loose someplace.

Nan meant this for you.

Keep it in a safe place.

Jack, last night at the pub, I apologize.

Wrong time and place, I don’t know what I was thinking.

Accepted, Dr. Sullivan.

If you’re not here to buy, you can see I’m busy.

Perhaps she told you.

Nan and I became quite good chums before she...

Nan was nobody’s good chum.

Oh, but we shared an interest

in objects of historical value.

Particularly, I loved her fanciful stories.

And what stories would you be talking about?

Well, there’s this one little poem she wrote

that had to do with Cromwell’s stay at Ballyknock in 1650.

If it’s about the treasure...

Yes. It is about the treasure.

You see, scores of authentic relics from the old monasteries

have been suddenly turning up in auctions up North,

Selling for thousands of pounds.

You’re talking rubbish.

Nan must’ve stumbled upon their hiding place.

Now someone’s taking them out.

She said she never spoke to anyone about her little poem,

except for one person.

I think that person was you.

Stop your blather and get out of here.

- But, Jack... - Don’t be calling me Jack,

you mealy-mouth leech!

Get out! Don’t you ever come in here again.

Just calm down, Mr. Conroy.

He’s harassing me unmercifully, and I want it stopped

or I’ll not be held responsible for the consequences.

Look, I was supposed to be

in the castle garden at 8:00 sharp.

A guy was supposed to come and have a package,

and I was supposed to bring it back to Dublin and get five grand for it.

No mention of what was in the package?

- No. - Nothing like Irish relics?

And you never saw this man in Ballyknock, I take it.

No. If I did, I’d recognize him.

You do believe me, don’t you?

As it so happens, I do.

But, you know, there are better ways of making friends

than to steal a lady’s wallet and another man’s wife.

Good luck to you, boy-o.

Jessica, glad I caught you.

It’s good-bye. I’m leaving this evening.

Oh. Well, all the best to you, Zuleika.

I just want to say that I’m sorry

for my rudeness the other night.

I have to face it.

My problems begin and end with a bottle of scotch.

Thank you, Zuleika. And best of luck to you.

Mrs. Fletcher, call for you, ma’am.

Oh, thank you, Leonard.

Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.

Jessica, I got your message

and ran the name you asked about, Zuleika Brown?

The case was page one for several weeks.

Zuleika did three years for her part in a confidence scam.

Scamming the gullible rich

in phony séances

and visitations with deceased loved ones...

In which she frequently played the role of a ghost.

I remember the case now.

Jon, I owe you one.

Hello, superintendent, is Rory there?

Oh, you just missed him, Mrs. Fletcher.

Inspector Lanahan left at 3:00, just about three minutes ago.

Well, thank you, superintendent.

Oh, Jess, don’t forget, we’re going to the cinema with Rory this evening.

Eileen, where’s Zuleika?

Headed upstairs, I think.

Ah.

Zuleika? Is that you?

Zuleika, or whoever you are, this has gone beyond a joke.

Hey!

Hey! Open this door!

Hello, dear. Have you seen Jess? I need to talk to her.

I have not.

But she and I made plans for this evening that include you.

Jessica must’ve changed her mind.

What do you mean "changed her mind"?

Well, she took a cab to Cork an hour and a half ago.

In fact, she should be in Dublin very shortly.

Well, why the devil would she go to Dublin?

It sounded like she had a meeting

there tomorrow morning.

She took a call here in the hall.

If you don’t mind me saying, it sounded quite urgent.

Your cab’s here, ma’am.

Good-bye, Zuleika. Bon voyage.

Bye.

Isn’t that just like Jessica?

When Jack Conroy found Nan’s body,

the rats had eaten the flesh off her bones.