All language subtitles for MrSWr1205

Previously, on Murder, She Wrote.

Nan!

No!

She scared away all my regular paying guests.

I thought you were selling the place.

That’s my intention.

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

I thought I’d made it clear.

My mother’s not gonna sign your contract.

There’ll be plenty of jobs for you and your people

once the hotel opens.

Well, you’re gonna spoil everything

’cause Vincent’s getting very suspicious.

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

to find out what you’re up to.

Something to do with money-laundering.

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

Since when do you carry a service revolver on holiday?

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

Raising a family, even with someone of your outstanding qualifications,

is certainly not at the top of my list.

You can take your frowns and your ill-humor

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

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

Have you found your man yet, superintendent?

Would you do something?

I’ll get in touch with an attorney.

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

If you’re back on that Cromwellian treasure,

it’s been talked about for three centuries,

and nobody’s found it yet.

Nan told me about it before she disappeared.

She said it came from the Cromwell treasure.

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

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

In which she frequently played the role of a ghost.

She took a cab to Cork an hour and a half ago.

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

Isn’t that just like Jessica?

When Jack Conroy found Nan’s body,

the rats had eaten the flesh off her bones.

In sports, the world of

professional bathers and swimmers’ association

reports a new interest this summer

for teenage boys and girls between 13 and 18...

Yes, would you do that? Check again. I’ll wait.

Her bags are still in her room.

I can’t imagine her leaving without her carry-all.

I know she likes the Shelbourne, she wasn’t there.

I tried Blooms. I tried Davenport...

Hello? Thank you.

That’s the Berkeley Court, she’s not there.

Well, look, the last time I saw, Jess was right here.

We talked about you going to the cinema with us last night.

At what time was that?

Uh... Moira?

Must’ve been about 3:00 in the afternoon.

Now, if she has business in Dublin,

it’ll be with Hartley Publishing.

Try them. I’ll be at the Garda station.

I’ll try and get some help there.

- Ah, inspector Lanahan. - Mrs. Nader.

You remember Vincent’s solicitor.

Paul Lafferty, inspector.

Hello, Mr. Lafferty. Excuse me, will you?

If you’re going to the station house,

could you ask superintendent Joyce

when he plans to release my husband’s body?

I’ll be here at the castle for as long as it takes

to get the hotel project reactivated.

Oh. Does this mean that Mr. Nader’s death

doesn’t put a stop to all that?

On the contrary. Mrs. Nader is still free

to pursue their joint business interests, inspector.

- Good day. - Good day.

- When Jack Conroy... - A dungeon’s a dungeon...

found Nan’s body, the rats had eaten...

a place to be put into and not get out of.

My dah’s voice came over the ether, he said...

her ghost haunts the garden here.

"Use your flipping brains."

clawing and scratching...

Stay away from my breakfast.

Oh.

Oh, use your flipping brains, woman.

Just one taxi from the village took a fare

into Cork airport yesterday, and that was miss Brown.

Why would miss Brown have lied?

Maybe she was just mistaken.

You know, inspector, Mrs. Fletcher could’ve taken

a number three bus into the village,

transferred to Cork in good time to catch an evening flight to Dublin.

Could we check on all the flights,

see if she was on one of them?

What about the local phone records?

It’s all in the works, inspector.

I’m sorry.

It’s just that Mrs. Fletcher is one of me oldest and dearest.

Could you tell me anything about this Zuleika Brown?

Ha. I... she’s been here, what,

off and on for over a year. I hardly knew her.

From Cork, off to where?

- I don’t know. - Nobody knows.

Oh, there’s one good bit of news.

My lads located the weapon that killed Mr. Nader.

Oh, yeah. That’s good news.

We found it in some bushes close to the area

in which he was killed.

It’s with the forensic lab in Cork.

Good. Look, I know your mind’s on other things,

but could you try and find the time

to help me with Mrs. Fletcher?

- I will. - Thanks to both of you.

You’re thinking I could’ve been more forthcoming

about miss Brown?

What’s the harm in a bit of a fling?

Well, I wouldn’t say anything, superintendent.

Well, not that it’s any of your business

any more than the inspector’s.

You know, here in Ballyknock, we protect our own.

Thinking about getting married, starting a family?

You’ll be needing a sergeant’s stripes to get a good start.

Ball one.

Rory, Hartley Publishing has no appointment with Jessica.

They didn’t even know she was in Ireland.

The taxi service has no record of driving her into Cork either.

But Zuleika said that she distinctly...

Zuleika either made a mistake,

or she was lying through her teeth...

and that possibility really disturbs me.

Rory, telephone.

Yes, this is Lanahan.

Good morning, inspector.

Oh, it’s you. Look, you caught me at a bad time.

I’m sure I did, and you must be worried sick

about your friend, Mrs. Fletcher.

What do you know about that?

It seems she was getting into things

that were none of her business,

like the Conroy girl’s unfortunate accident.

If you know something about Mrs. Fletcher,

you just spit it out!

It’s getting too late for that.

Now, just listen,

or you’ve heard the last from me on your money-laundering case.

Go on.

- One thousand pounds. - I’ll bring it.

Then we’ll meet tomorrow,

and you’ll have the money connection in Ballyknock.

When and where?

You’ll hear from me.

Getting too late. Getting too...

Why did he say that?

Why did who say what?

Huh? Oh, I’m just talking to meself.

Listen, Eileen,

suppose Jess didn’t take a cab or a bus anywhere.

And never left the castle grounds?

Right. We’re gonna search every foot of this place.

Moira, Moira, I want you to find Ian,

and here’s what I want the two of you to do.

Ball three.

Strike!

Anything, Ian?

Still no sign of her anywhere around.

Oh, God. Look, you go west along the river.

We’ll cover the rest of these grounds,

and we’ll do the same thing heading East. Let’s go.

All right.

Hey! Is anybody there? Can you hear me?

Eileen, how long has that window been broken?

Why, I don’t remember that ever being broken.

You know, that’s been broken from the inside.

Jess could’ve gone there. She’s in the old wing.

Jessica, can you hear me?

Jess? Jess!

- Jessica! - Oh, Rory.

Oh, girl. We were afraid we’d lost you.

Well, I was afraid that I’d lost me, too.

Jessica! Are you all right?

Yeah. I’m fine.

Except now I know how poor Nan must’ve felt.

Listen, now I am convinced that she was murdered.

Oh, yes. Stay on it. Keep me up to date.

A 9:00 flight from Dublin to Paris.

Nothing further booked out of there?

Paris police are running miss Brown’s passport

through the computer to find what hotel she booked into.

Hmm, she has an alias and a new passport by now.

New York confirmed your newspaper friend’s story

regarding miss Brown.

Whatever miss Brown’s motives were for playing the charade she did,

we still have to accept the possibility

that you were the victim of an accident.

Like Nan Conroy?

Oh, come on. She must’ve known she left Jessica to die.

If I get to know any more, you’ll be the first to hear.

Hold your fire, Jess.

He may be stubborn, but he’s probably a good policeman.

Mrs. Fletcher, Mr. Conroy’s whatnot shop left a message

to say your pottery is wrapped and ready.

Oh, thank you. I’ll take very good care of this.

Okay. I’ll explain in the car.

You think you’ve got it knocked now,

do you, with Nader dead?

I’ve a make-or-break meeting in Cork this afternoon,

if I get the loan I want, then yes.

With any luck, we’ll have mother in Dublin,

like she wants, by Christmas.

Ian, as kids, you used to listen to your big sister.

Listen to her now. Give it up.

Mrs. Nader and her lawyer, they’re going ahead with the hotel.

Mother will have what she wants and deserves.

No, damn it.

Ian, what the devil’s happened to you?

Ma’s whole world is crashing around her head right now,

and all you worry about is whether you get the farm or not.

Deirdre.

Oh, Matthew, the other night at the party...

The matter’s forgotten.

Look, an emergency situation’s come up over the radio.

My sister’s having her baby,

and Dr. Mulcahy’s nowhere to be found.

Kitty’s a big, strong girl. The midwife’ll handle it.

The midwife says there’s trouble with the baby’s umbilicus.

The cord’s twisted around the wee thing, and it’s threatening both their lives.

That’s a placenta previa. Oh, you don’t understand.

I’ve never handled anything like that before.

Matthew, I’d be scared stiff.

I couldn’t imagine you being scared about anything, Dee.

I think once you get started, you’ll be really great.

Really great. Look, Kitty’s having a terrible time of it,

and you’re the only one who can see her through it.

Go on, Dee. Go on.

You know what I can do, I can take that to the post office,

and overnight it to our authenticators in Dublin.

By tomorrow morning, they’ll tell us whether it’s genuine or not.

Rory, if it really is a piece from the hidden Celtic treasure,

then it’s the linkage that we’re looking for.

You’re looking for, Jess.

From Nan’s death, to Zuleika’s fraudulent ghost,

to the spook who keeps calling you about

the money-laundering...

You’ve still no idea who that is?

Nah. None.

And, Jess, I really doubt

that Peter Franklin killed Vincent Nader.

In which case, he was set up in that Dublin bar,

and superintendent Joyce is back to square one.

Stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Peter.

Sorry? Look, you try spending the night in a dump like this.

I didn’t kill your husband.

I’ve spoken to Paul Lafferty.

Lafferty. Andrea, he’s a real estate attorney.

And, as I remember, you thought he was a jerk.

I was saying,

Paul is getting you the best criminal attorney in Limerick.

I’ve changed my mind about him.

He’s been very thoughtful and caring.

Oh, I’m sure he has. I notice now he’s no longer Mr. Lafferty.

Now he’s "Paul."

You are the only one to blame for the mess you’re in, Peter.

Now, things aren’t as bad as I thought they would be

under my prenuptial agreement with Vincent.

Paul structured the hotel contract apart.

He and I are partners now.

He’s helping himself to half the deal?

Yes. I plan on going ahead with the hotel.

Time, Mrs. Nader.

I’ve had more than enough, thank you.

What do you mean it hasn’t come through?

You gave me every assurance.

I’m sorry, Mr. Lafferty.

Yes. Yes, never mind. I’ll call you back.

All’s well?

Well, Peter says I should mistrust you.

Other than that, everything’s hunky-dory.

What do you expect from a cheap opportunist?

We’ll have a grand lunch,

and I’ll tell you how very rich you’re going to become.

Comfortable, are you, Franklin?

Hey, I didn’t kill her husband,

and when I get out of here,

I’m gonna find the creep that set me up,

and that’s a promise.

There we are, Mrs. Fletcher. All safe and sound for travel.

Oh, I’m sure they are. Thank you so much.

Thank you.

I was very sorry to hear of your experience.

It’s something I wouldn’t want to have to go through again.

There in the dark all by yourself,

you must have been very frightened.

Mmm. From what I remember of her,

I’m sure that Nan handled it a lot better than I did.

But I promised myself, if I got out,

I’d ask you to clear up something for me.

Clear up something?

Yes. After all those months that she was gone,

what prompted you to follow that person

into the old wing of the castle?

Others had been seeing her for a month or two.

I heard the talk.

Then my friend, Mrs. Phipps, you know, said in so many words

she’d seen Nan in the woods on the Friday.

So I took my usual walk last Sunday night.

First I heard her voice.

Then I saw her.

Looking pretty in her confirmation frock,

beckoning her dah...

The iron door had been locked for centuries, and yet...

Nan opened it.

How else was she to lead me to her final resting place?

Well, what I’m trying to understand is

why someone would willfully lock me in

so that I would die in the same way that your daughter did?

If that’s the truth of it,

knowing why won’t bring her back.

I know the stories.

Dr. Sullivan’s been going on about

the vast sums changing hands at auctions,

saying it’s pieces of the Cromwell treasure.

Someone even broke in here last night

and went through Nan’s little bits and pieces.

I want none of it.

It’s enough to carry my guilt with me every living moment.

But you can’t blame yourself.

But I must.

I must.

You see, Nan was so clever with words.

She made me laugh and cry at the same time.

I listened to the girl, but that’s not the same as hearing.

I never really heard what she was saying.

Thank you for putting up with a trip

into the village, Mr. Lafferty.

The castle was too public for this particular discussion.

Ah, fine. Fine.

But if you’re genuinely interested

in buying into the hotel,

then Mrs. Nader should be here...

Oh. No, no, no, no, I don’t think so.

I’m sure you wouldn’t want Andrea

to learn the full extent of your,

to put it charitably, your misrepresentations, would you?

- Misrepresentations? - I’ll get straight to the point.

Let’s start with the unexplained disappearance

of Vincent Nader’s files from the records office,

an act so desperate that someone risked prison

to postpone the closing of the hotel deal.

Look here, if you think that I had anything...

I didn’t think Ian O’Bannon capable,

so I called a discreet banking connection, who informed me

that the Irish half of the financing

you guaranteed for Nader for a prepaid finder’s fee

of over half a million pounds, doesn’t exist.

It fell out last month.

I’ve other sources.

Yes. Well, my banking connection told me

that those, too, are highly unlikely.

In the meantime, you’ve been keeping Mrs. Nader ignorant of your difficulties,

which could only mean you want to get your hands on her money.

Mr. Lafferty,

if you think you’re in trouble now,

I need hardly remind you

of the kind you’d face as an officer of the court.

You’re offering me your silence in return for what?

A partnership.

Myself on the one hand, you, Mrs. Nader,

and her husband’s capital on the other.

I don’t want a hotel.

I want the castle and grounds,

and under a different arrangement.

I believe that somebody else

was doing Jack Conroy’s hearing for him.

You know, whether he knew it or not,

he may have given me the break I need on the laundering case.

You mean Dr. Sullivan talking about the auctions,

valuable artifacts shipped from this area northward?

Yeah. And converted into cash, which flows down here.

And the rest of it goes to a... a Geneva account.

John Sullivan gets a whiff,

and knows immediately where it comes from.

You know, Rory, it means that Nan did find the treasure.

Okay, but where?

Mary O’Hara holds a strange fascination for you, John.

Leonard said you were looking for me.

Yes, I was. Even though Vincent Nader’s gone,

I presume you’d still listen to an offer

that would free you of the property

and provide you for the life you’ve always wanted.

Possibly, but I don’t think you have those means, John.

Oh, that’s changed quite dramatically.

You see, I’ve found a partner who shares my belief

in the preservation

of Ireland’s historical legacies for the Irish.

Oh? Is that all there is?

- At Nader’s price. - Ah.

The difference being we’d want a year’s lease

with the possibility of buying at the end of that period.

Oh, instead of an outright purchase?

Uh-huh.

Well, how soon could my solicitor

see something on paper?

Sooner than you think.

Thank you, Jess. You know, Nan may be gone,

but she won’t be forgotten.

That is the perfect spot for her painting.

Dublin called back.

Ah. Sullivan’s bank accounts?

He came out clean as a whistle.

But the Irish treasures he was talking to Jack Conroy about,

they track to a dealer, name of Rafaella Sabatini.

Of course, why not?

The bold, full-breasted Rafaella.

The... the who?

Well, Rafaella was the heroine in the book

that Zuleika wasn’t writing.

Do you suppose that Zuleika took that alias,

and that it was she who ran the treasures up to Dublin?

Amongst her other ghostly duties.

Mmm-hmm. Yeah.

I think I’d better have a serious chat

with this Dr. John Sullivan, don’t you, Jess?

Better catch him while you can.

Now, where’s he going in such a hurry?

Come out where I can see you!

We’ve a lot to talk about.

O’Bannon. What are you doing here?

Just who the hell are you expecting, Sullivan?

And what bill of goods are you foisting on my mother?

You’re gonna tell me, man.

Jessica.

Shh, there’s somebody.

Oh.

Who was it, Dr. Sullivan?

Are there... Joyce... treasures...

Joyce... treasures...

I’m sorry that I can’t be more help to you, superintendent.

Dr. Sullivan was trying to say something,

but the words just didn’t seem to make any sense.

Why don’t you have a try at it, Jess?

Well, it sounded like, "Are there choice treasures."

And he repeated it once. Then he died.

Sounds as if Dr. Sullivan had treasure on his brain

to the bitter end.

You’ve nothing else to add, inspector?

No. Just a healthy whack from behind. I never saw who did it.

It’s 3:00.

I’ll take the other statements in the morning.

Any ideas you have, they’ll be gratefully accepted.

Good night.

You know what I’m thinking, Rory.

That Dr. Sullivan was killed by the same person,

and for the same reason

that Vincent Nader and Nan Conroy were murdered.

I’m beginning to get your point.

Nan had this big secret,

and Sullivan with all this snooping, hit right on it.

Oh, thank you, Freddie.

- Good night. - Good night.

Hello, Deirdre.

Hello, Matthew.

We heard about Dr. Sullivan.

Mother must be going crazy.

She’s sleeping now.

I hear you brought Kitty through 20 hours of labor.

She and your new nephew are going to be all right.

I hope I never have anything as difficult as that

to do again for the rest of me days.

You better get some sleep.

No, I’m not arguing your forensic expertise.

But I don’t mind telling you it comes as a shock.

No, never mind, I’ll do what I have to do.

- What is it? - We’ve got the wrong man.

Get us a car, I’ll tell you about it on the way.

It pains me no end to tell you this, Franklin.

You’re free to go.

What happened? What, did they find Nader’s murderer?

That’s none of your business.

You’ll stay out of my sight if you know what’s good for you.

Of all the asinine, preposterous accusations,

to think Ian would resort to one murder, never mind two.

Rory, for heaven’s sake,

tell this idiot to release my brother. He’s...

Deirdre, they’ll have you up for disturbing the peace

in your own house.

I’m truly sorry, Mrs. O’Bannon.

Cork forensics identified fingerprints on the gun

that killed Mr. Nader.

They were Ian’s. The weapon had been fired recently.

Your brilliant deductions

stagger me, superintendent.

My fingerprints on my father’s gun. Dear me.

And on my pitchfork, as well.

Let’s go.

No! No! No! You can’t!

Oh. Oh, Ian. What happened between us...

Shh, now stop blubbering, ma.

They’ve got the wrong fella.

Now, listen, your dream is Dublin,

mine is keeping the farm.

We’ll find a way to have them both, I promise, all right?

Superintendent Joyce,

surely Nader’s killer would’ve been a fool

not to wipe the weapon clean,

let alone not hide it more cunningly than in some bushes.

Not if he wished us

to think he was a fool, Mrs. Fletcher.

Excuse me, Jess. Have you established a motive?

I think Mrs. O’Bannon can answer that, Sir. Excuse me.

I can’t believe it of Ian.

He’ll be home in the wink of an eye.

Eileen, what did he mean, the superintendent?

Well, Ian knew that Dr. Sullivan was offering

to take over the castle and lands,

and that he would close down the farm.

That proves nothing. Come on, ma, I’ll make us a cup of tea.

Jess, I don’t want to believe this either.

Yes, but if Ian were guilty,

what in the world was the purpose

of this elaborate frame-up

around Peter Franklin?

Peter wants to find that out for himself.

Superintendent Joyce said he left directly

from the station house this morning for Dublin.

In the hopes of finding this elusive stranger at the bar.

I’m going to try and arrange something and talk to Ian, okay?

Mrs. Fletcher, Ian gets angry and stamps his foot,

but inside he’s much too gentle to kill anybody.

Moira, I want you to come with me.

It’s not that I believe Ian’s guilty,

but I’ve got to ask you the question.

Do you know for a fact

where he was last night at that time?

Which is to say you think he killed Vincent Nader,

and now Dr. Sullivan.

No! But we’ve got to face the possibility.

Deirdre, answer the question.

I haven’t the faintest idea where he was.

And if I thought him guilty, do you think I’d tell you?

Look, girl, if your brother’s involved, I’ve got to know.

There’re steps that can be taken.

- You mean you’re prepared to... - Deirdre!

Oh, good Lord, Rory.

You’re prepared to manipulate the facts

and risk your own reputation.

Oh. Oh, you dear man.

I never realized. You must love my mother tons.

You never heard that from me. I said no such thing.

Honestly, I don’t know where he was or what he was doing.

Fine.

But I love you for asking in just the way you did.

I’d have thought you had enough of this awful place.

Believe me, I can hardly wait to leave.

But there’s something here that I want you to help me with.

Now, you can see that this has been fairly recently etched.

Poor Nan must have used a piece of stone or something.

Hear my voice.

That’s what Nan was always saying.

Oh, the poor child,

it must’ve taken every ounce of her strength at the end.

But why, Moira? Think. What did she mean?

"Hear my voice."

Did she want us to hear something?

I mean, would it have been a recording, or a tape, or...

Yes. Yes. Come with me.

I don’t even know why you’re here, man.

Deirdre says you were ready to lie for me.

Shut up. The walls have bloody ears. I did not say that.

No? But apparently, you believe me guilty,

and if that’s where you stand,

I don’t need your lies or your help.

I doubt you’d even be here if it wasn’t for your infatuation with my mother.

If you were out here, I’d teach you a lesson, son.

Don’t get on me because of my feelings for your mother.

I’m here because of her, that’s true,

but I’ll try and help you if I can.

Now, come on. Talk to me.

Well, the night Nader was killed,

I was on me way home to the party.

I took a look inside, I saw Nader’s filthy face.

I just couldn’t stomach being in the same room with the man, so I left.

All right. And the gun?

When dah died, I took it out, and cleaned it,

you know, kept it for old times’ sake.

The thing was sitting in a drawer in the barn,

I had forgotten all about it.

And someone filched it and framed me.

I’d have killed the bastard myself if I thought I’d...

Shh. And John Sullivan?

I followed him to the ruins, and, all right,

I gave him a good punch, but that’s all.

I’d be more than stupid to kill him with me own pitchfork,

and then leave the bloody thing.

It’s not me ma’s fault, poor dear, it’s them,

you know, playing on her weakness.

The thing is, I’ve got the loan lined up in Cork now.

We’d be able to hang onto the place.

If the crop is good another year,

I’ll send her up to Dublin, just like she wants.

Who else knew about the gun?

No one.

You have a phone call, inspector.

Thank you.

I’ll have a lawyer down from Dublin

first thing tomorrow morning.

Thanks a lot. Lanahan.

Just listen, inspector.

It wouldn’t do for superintendent Joyce

to get wind of what we’re up to.

I understand that.

We’ll meet tonight.

9:00, at the edge of the castle gardens.

What’s wrong with right now?

Bad connection?

No, the connection’s fine. Excuse me.

I’m sure I remember putting it in among the others.

"Hear my voice, my only friend Mhairin."

"Where is found the Lord protector?

Who has found the gold and silver

which out among the dead stones lie?"

"In amongst them ghosties play. Chatelaine holds the key."

"Mr. Buttons, dirty digits, frightens me now

in the place where he’ll not find me."

"Please, God, preserve our treasure. Treasure my soul."

Didn’t I say the dead speak to us?

Let’s step on in here and I’ll buy you a drink.

- Hello. - Is Rory there?

Just a moment.

Rory! Telephone!

So it is what we thought.

Nan had discovered the Cromwell treasure,

and some character that she called Mr. Buttons,

or dirty digits, was onto it.

And that was what was frightening her.

Jess, can we save Mr. Buttons and his friends for later?

No, no, trust me. Something urgent’s come up.

Urgent? Rory, what’s more urgent than knowing

that Nan Conroy was murdered by someone that she confided in,

that she knew the secret of the Cromwell treasure?

She went to her hiding place, the dungeon...

Jess, if I start quoting Nan Conroy’s poems

to the deputy commissioner,

he’ll have my head.

- But, Rory... - I’ve got to hang up, Jess.

So I hung around the bar on Grafton street

to see if I could run into that guy who set me up.

Any luck?

No. No. And the bartender didn’t know him either.

Hmm. You know, Mrs. Fletcher,

it’s probably too late to say I’m sorry

for all the trouble I’ve caused you, but, thanks.

You’re some kind of lady.

Miss O’Bannon, like the old song says,

"It’s a long, long way to Tipperary." A lot longer than I knew.

Good luck to you, son.

Andrea, I guess this is good-bye.

Andrea, didn’t you tell me that the bar was on Harcourt street?

That’s what Peter told me.

Oh, it’s my mistake. I thought it was on Harcourt street,

but then I got there and I couldn’t find the place.

But I turned the corner on Grafton and there it was.

- See me to the road? - Yes.

Now, Jessica, how about a cup of tea, hmm?

What’s wrong?

I think I know who murdered Nan.

The same person who killed Vincent Nader

and probably John Sullivan.

And now Rory is off somewhere,

and I don’t have his cellphone number.

Jess, if you think you know who the murderer is,

why wait for Rory?

Shouldn’t you call inspector Joyce right away?

Well, I only think I know,

and that mightn’t be enough for Joyce.

Eileen.

Mmm-hmm?

What would this mean to you, "The chatelaine holds the key"?

I’m the chatelaine here, of course,

unless you mean Mary O’Hara.

I mean, she always had something up her sleeve.

Yes, I may need superintendent Joyce after all.

Would you call him for me?

Tell him that I know who the murderer is,

and where we might find the Cromwellian treasure.

Phew. Girl, where do you think you’re going?

Well, I want to check out a theory.

And I’m gonna get my raincoat and a good, strong flashlight.

And I want you to make another call for me.

Are you off, Leonard?

Yes, ma’am. Moira left early.

Her girls left the place a mess, but I tidied up.

I left a fresh pot of coffee and snacks in the fridge.

Good man. Oh, by the way,

the Troys asked to be awakened with breakfast at 7:00.

Right you are.

Is that you?

Come on, quit with the games. Come out where I can see you.

Leonard? What?

Who did this? Who did it?

My God Almighty. Sit as still as you can. Still. Still.

I’ll get some help.

Show your secret, Mary O’Hara.

Oh.

Zuleika, you lost a little weight.

Superintendent.

Hmm?

I was just admiring these lovely pieces of Celtic objects d’art.

Mrs. O’Bannon gave me your message on the car phone,

saying you might be found at Mary O’Hara’s grave.

She worried about your safety.

You know I didn’t tell her that.

Only that I thought I knew where the treasure might be found.

Here.

She worried for me justifiably, I presume.

Oh, yes. Of course.

Since you also said with some conviction

that you knew who did away with

Nan Conroy, Vincent Nader, John Sullivan.

How did it occur to you that it was I?

Well, when Peter Franklin came back from Dublin this afternoon,

he jogged a memory for me.

All along Peter thought he’d run into your man in a pub

on Harcourt street.

Yet when you arrested Peter,

you quoted him as saying that he met the stranger on Grafton street.

Oh. That was some cock-and-bull story, inspector,

about running into some stranger in a bar on Grafton street.

You couldn’t have known it was Grafton

unless it was you and your accomplice who set him up.

And that helped me to realize

I’d misinterpreted John Sullivan’s last words.

They were slurred and disconnected.

Are there.

I thought he said, "Choice treasures are there."

But combining "are there" and "choice,"

I came up with the name of his killer,

Arthur Joyce.

Zuleika’s ghost frightened people away from the old wing,

and helped explain the screams and moans

produced by your nightly labors in here.

Oh, when we we’re under the dungeons,

the sounds are amplified and distorted by the old shafts.

Then in Nan’s poem, she called you "Mr. Buttons,"

and I realized it was an allusion to your uniform,

a symbol of trust, until you frightened her.

Then you became "dirty digits,"

which also rang a bell, because I remembered

the black grime that is always under your fingernails.

And it struck me as an anomaly

in an otherwise spotless police superintendent.

Mrs. Fletcher, I’m gonna have to give you ten,

but regrettably, I’m gonna have to put an end to this.

Put the bloody thing down, Joyce!

- Inspector, what’s this about? - Put it on the table!

That decoy you had occupying my attention,

the houseman, Leonard,

he’s going to live

not withstanding the knife you stuck in him.

What, were you afraid he was gonna blow the whistle on you?

Superintendent,

Vincent Nader’s plans for a hotel

would have put a stop to your digging.

John Sullivan was getting too close to the secret, but Nan...

Was it worth that much to you to wipe out the life

of such a beautiful, clever, young woman?

Indeed, it was.

She was destroying a dream.

Here was the chance for me to get out of this grind,

to leave Ballyknock for good,

for us both to get rich beyond our wildest dreams.

Nan, she had this ridiculous notion

that the treasure should go to Ireland!

I couldn’t have that!

Get him out of here.

You do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so.

Anything you do say will be used in evidence against you.

Very clever,

trying to do it all by yourself.

But I had Eileen call Matthew.

That’s just great. What if she couldn’t reach him?

- Well... - Come on.

Just talked to Dublin headquarters,

they’ve located Zuleika Brown, alias Rafaella Sabatini,

in an opulent love nest in Malaga, Spain.

Awaiting the imminent arrival of superintendent Joyce.

You guessed it right. Are you ready, darling?

- Well, what do those look like? - Ah.

Now, you I’ll see in Dublin.

Oh, look, ma, so you know, after my residency,

I’m thinking of coming back to Ballyknock.

With Dr. Mulcahy retiring, and finding out for myself

that I could do it for Kitty and her baby, I...

There’s gonna be a lot more babies

waiting to be born here in The Valley is what she’s trying to say.

Bravo, Matthew.

See you soon, Jess dear.

Good-bye, Rory. Take care of Eileen

for the both of us, all right?

Oh, thank you, my friend.

And you have a lovely week here.

What with the new loan, Ian will be so busy on the farm...

Oh, don’t worry.

Listen, Moira will take care of everything beautifully.

And besides, I plan to be very busy.

I want you and Rory to find what you’re looking for.

No, I’ll be fine.

I have the germ of an idea for a new story.

Oh? And what might that be? As if I couldn’t guess.

Well, you won’t guess. There are no ghosts,

and the only treasure I’ll be looking for are the right words.

And I’ll find them here in my head.