All language subtitles for MrSWr1217

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

Sheriff.

He planted the damn thing in my car to get even with me.

Maybe I should just roll over and play dead

after what you pulled on me.

I wouldn’t be surprised

if he did tamper with the evidence.

There’s something here that just isn’t tracking.

Oh, you’re not talking about proof that he killed Boggs?

Take your hands off the lady.

Looks like Leverett was gonna blackmail Fred.

Well, you believe me, don’t you?

Well, I would if I thought I could get a straight answer.

His honesty has never been questioned.

Well, I’ve even heard yours being questioned.

I call them the way I see them.

You mean, I’m suspended?

I’ve got all the pieces.

I have this awful feeling

I’ve got the wrong corpse.

Okay. Turn around, Mr. Berrigan and go back this way.

That’s fine. Okay. Now turn around.

I’m gonna have you touch your nose with your index finger.

Put your arms straight out to the side. Leave ’em out there.

One at a time.

- There, you satisfied? - Not especially.

Your breath smells of booze.

You ran two stop signs. You were all over the road.

Look, I was dialing my car phone.

And I haven’t had a drink in three hours.

I mean, this was his idea, wasn’t it?

Fred, I wouldn’t waste the energy!

Andy.

You know, you’ve got yourself

a real attitude problem there, Mr. Berrigan.

Oh, me? What about your buddy here?

Sheriff.

Okay, Andy, drive him on down to the station,

and I’ll sort things out here.

Wait a minute. Just consider

who it is claims he found that bottle.

Okay. That’s it! Put the cuffs on him!

Look, sheriff...

instead of writing him up, why don’t I just take him home?

That way he won’t lose his license.

Ah, you couldn’t make it stick anyway.

Broom, if you’re looking for an extension, forget about it.

That down payment is due tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.

be there with a check or--

Oh, no! That’s enough, Fred. All right?

Now, Andy, you really wanna do this?

Get him out of my sight.

Hello?

Hello?

Leverett?

It appears to be as you said, Mort.

Strangulation with some kind of cord or wire.

Leverett Boggs, of all people.

I just can’t believe it.

He was coming over for dinner

and a game of chess tonight.

Oh, yeah. You have to wonder why

a thing like that would happen.

Oh, I can give you the "why."

His pockets were empty except for his keys.

A mugging in Cabot Cove?

Well, we’ve been getting more and more

drifters coming through here lately.

What have you got, Mrs. F?

A piece of nylon cord.

That could’ve been used to choke Leverett.

Well, let’s check it out.

Anyway, this is one you don’t have to worry about,

especially with all those story problems you told us about.

How’s that coming?

Well, not great.

I’ve got all the pieces.

The crime, the suspect, the setting.

But I have this awful feeling I’ve got the wrong culprit,

maybe even the wrong corpse.

I can’t remember the last time I was stumped like this.

Try about this time a year ago.

- Hey, Andy, how’d it go? - Mrs. Fletcher. Doc.

Well, you’re looking at a genuine homeowner.

Ah!

Oh, you’d never catch me

buying a used house from Fred Berrigan.

You’ll have to fill in for Leverett Boggs

till we find a replacement for him.

Oh. Well, I’ll do my best, Mr. Berrigan.

And may I say how sorry I am about Mr. Boggs.

Steve Uptown, you’re needed in receiving.

The answer’s still the same.

The quality of your leather gets worse and worse

and your prices keep going up.

Mr. Berrigan, I can assure you,

we are only shipping you our top quality stuff.

The problem here is we--

The problem is...

I can’t think of any more ways

to say I don’t wanna do business with you anymore.

- Just feel this-- - Honey, Craig was offering--

Ah, Meg, what do you want from me?

We kicked this around, like you insisted.

We made our decision. Case closed.

Uh, Ms. Berrigan.

I’m going to be in town for a couple more days

servicing a few other clients in the area,

and I would be, well, incredibly grateful

if, well, you know, you could...

I’ll try, Craig,

but I’m not about to countermand him.

Oh, of course! I understand.

But, you know, as I said,

I’m willing to do anything here.

I mean, including major price concessions

and like I said, I intend to personally

jump all over our quality control people.

Fred hasn’t been quite himself lately.

Of course not. All this stuff with Mr. Boggs going on.

It must, you know, be a terrible strain on everyone.

You know? Thank you.

I had no idea.

They actually had to shut down the assembly line?

Well, it’s what happens when we run short

of one of the components. In this case,

it’s the adhesives for the soles.

It’s very, very costly.

Oh, Mr. Parkins I feel terrible.

Wendy, it’s George.

And this is strictly between us.

All part of the learning curve, you know.

Wendy? What is it?

Maybe I shouldn’t say.

Are you telling me this is somebody else’s goof?

My, oh my, doesn’t she look smashing?

Wendy, listen I don’t have to be

back in Boston now for a couple of days,

so how about some dinner tonight?

Maybe? The Hill House?

Oh, sure. That’d be great, Craig.

Great. Hello, George.

Craig.

So, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.

Terrific.

Wendy, I understand that you want to protect a fellow worker,

but there is a bigger issue here.

This could hurt the company.

Well, I just hate to get anyone in trouble.

Wendy, I’ll worry about that. Now what happened?

Well, I initialed the requisition

for the adhesive two days ago.

Oh, this is a copy that I made.

And like I was supposed to do, I passed it along to...

- Isaac? - Yeah.

You know, this isn’t the first time

that he’s goofed in the past few months.

Wendy, trust me, you did the right thing.

Dean, you gotta be kidding me.

You mean it’s worse than the flooded kitchen

and basement I just walked in on?

Afraid so. Besides the rusted pipes,

some of the beams and joists are rotted

and there’s extensive termite damage.

Fred’s tenants are lucky

the place didn’t come down on ’em.

Oh, boy. I knew the place was a fixer-upper, but...

but I had it inspected and none of this showed up.

I mean, how could he miss something like that?

Fairly easy, actually.

The last remodel was largely cosmetic.

Oh, this is just terrific!

Your old nemesis doing it to you again?

Well, we don’t know that.

Well, I’ll tell you though.

If Fred was aware of this stuff and failed to disclose it,

he’s liable for the repairs.

And we’re talking fairly serious money.

How serious?

Oh, I don’t know, Seth.

Between my plot problems and Leverett Boggs’ murder,

I can’t seem to get it together here.

So I’ve noticed. You’re out of cream!

Well, use milk. It’s better for you.

Huh.

You and Hannah Parkins.

- What about Hannah? - Oh, haven’t you heard?

I’ve been savoring her chicken pot pie for what,

20 years.

All of a sudden it has gone fat and cholesterol free.

And flavor-free into the bargain.

Her entire menu!

Well, it sounds very healthy.

I mean, it’ll probably help people to live longer.

Not if they die of boredom from her food.

What’s this note with Leverett Boggs’ name on it?

Oh, I’d forgotten all about that.

Gosh! He’d asked me for the name and number

of my New York accountant and my attorney.

I’d planned to give it to him this evening.

That’s strange.

Leverett always hated lawyers,

bean counters, other than himself,

and towns of more than 5,000 population,

not necessarily in that order.

Jess, what is it?

You just said it.

I don’t know why it had never occurred to me.

But why did he ask for them?

If you have to know, I got it

out of the employee suggestion box.

It was an anonymous message.

- And you believe it? - I’ve checked and double-checked.

Ms. Arnold initialed the adhesive requisition

and forwarded it to your attention.

This... it’s like I’m being gaslighted.

Look, Fred, I swear that requisition never came across my desk.

This isn’t the first time.

Not the-- Says who?

You mean, I don’t get to face my accusers?

It really saddens me, Isaac.

If you’d owned up to it,

I would’ve be willing to give you another shot.

But the one thing I cannot countenance is lying.

You’re saying I’m...

Terminated. Effective immediately.

Fred, please.

Thirty years I’ve been with the company.

Your father never would’ve--

I want you to clean out your desk by 5:00.

I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Berrigan,

but I authorized these purchases.

The special price was about to expire and...

since you and Mrs. Berrigan were out

and George was nowhere to be found...

Well, I didn’t even know about the discount offer.

That’s good work, Ms. Arnold. You saved us a lot of money.

Thank you. It comes to about $17,000.

Can you tell me why George wasn’t available?

No. But I’m sure it had to do with company business.

So, may I ask you a question?

So do you ever go for drinks after work with,

you know, any of your employees?

I don’t think that’d be a good idea right now.

Oh. I see.

What was that about?

Nothing.

"C"? Well, it could’ve been carrots, I suppose.

Or cooking pot, or maybe that

cerise sweater that I ordered.

It’d help if you could be a little more specific.

$32 may not seem like a lot,

but these little deductions really add up.

Patty, one of these days,

I promise I’ll start acting my age,

but, meantime, that is what I pay you for.

Right now, I feel like that’s why I’m engaged to her.

Honey, you weren’t being childish.

And you weren’t foolish to assume that Fred would be honorable.

Trusting people is certainly better than being a cynic.

Yeah, but Fred Berrigan is Fred Berrigan.

And I should know that by now.

A great way to start a marriage,

with thousands of dollars in house repairs

just to make the place livable.

Andy, I feel terrible.

Look, Patty,

I liked that house as much as you did.

Okay, almost as much.

The point is, you didn’t drag me into this.

Look, we can fix it up later.

And the extra bedroom,

we can make it into a nursery

with a few dollars worth of paint and wallpaper.

I’ve got to call in to Fred.

Maybe he’ll do the honorable thing

and agree to pay for at least part of it.

And I’m an astronaut.

Look, I gotta get to work.

I’ll see you tonight.

Some things never change.

I remember when Andy and Fred were still in high school.

They had one of their fights right over there by that window.

I practically had to brain them with a skillet.

Hey, Patty. Hey, mom.

Ms. Arnold.

George, what is going on over there?

First poor Mr. Boggs

and then did I hear right about poor Isaac Meecham?

Yep. I’ll have a tuna salad on whole wheat, please.

Oh, it’s getting crazy, Mrs. Parkins.

Mrs. Berrigan just read George the riot act for no good reason.

Some purchase orders I was supposed to sign.

Only I "wasn’t available." She wouldn’t believe me

when I told her I was right there the whole time.

You know, I know I haven’t been

at Down East Footwear long enough to make judgments,

but certain people can sure be unreasonable.

Mort, I don’t have all day.

Fred, will you relax?

I told you Andy’s bringing your car around.

Excuse me, sheriff. You might wanna check this out.

It looks an awful lot like the stuff

that was used to strangle Leverett Boggs.

It sure does. Where’d you get it?

Out of Fred’s car. I remembered seeing it there last night.

Wait a minute. I’ve never seen that before in my life!

And besides, that’s an invasion of my privacy!

It sure looks like a match to me, sheriff.

This piece that was used to kill Leverett Boggs

sure looks like it was cut from this coil.

Oh. Now I get it. Don’t you see what he’s doing, Mort?

This is because he can’t stick me for those repairs.

- That’s enough, Berrigan. - What?

He planted the damn thing in my car to get even with me.

Just like he did with the bottle.

I said to knock it off, Fred!

I’m placing you under arrest

on suspicion of murdering Leverett Boggs.

Andy, lock him up.

I appreciate what you’re saying, Mrs. Berrigan,

but your husband can’t account for his whereabouts

the night of Leverett’s murder,

and I have no choice but to hold him.

And if you don’t understand that, I don’t know what--

Come on, sheriff.

Mort.

Hello, Meg. Mort, those grooves on Fred’s hands

could be the result of his pulling

on that nylon cord around Leverett’s throat.

Oh, for pity-- Didn’t he explain

that those are rope Burns from the rigging on our sailboat?

He did, ma’am.

And have you found anything like a reason

why my husband would want to harm Leverett Boggs?

I may have found a motive. This letter.

I took another look around Leverett’s apartment.

Found it stuffed behind some books.

It seems to be a copy.

Dated three days ago from Leverett Boggs to Fred Berrigan,

Down East Footwear company, etcetera, etcetera...

"Dear Fred, I think you should know

that I’ve become aware of certain indiscretions

that I don't think you'd want Meg to find out about.

Says he wants to meet him Tuesday night.

Well, that would be last night.

Looks like Leverett was gonna blackmail Fred.

Okay. This is absolutely outrageous!

"Indiscretions"?

Everybody in town knows Fred is a straight arrow.

Including the source of all this

so called evidence against my husband!

The one man in Cabot Cove who’s hated Fred

for as long as anyone can remember.

Mrs. Berrigan, I really think you should cool down

before you say another word.

Believe me, sheriff,

you haven’t heard the half of it!

That’s weird.

What’s weird?

Oh! Hi! You’re early.

This Norcom, it’s listed on the printout

of company computer files,

but isn’t listed on my computer...

or Mr. Boggs’.

Unless...

Unless what?

Oh, so, I heard about your problem with Mr. Berrigan.

Yeah.

I bet that you could use some leverage.

Leverage?

Yeah. You know.

Something to convince him to change his mind about you.

You know, like something that Mr. Berrigan

might not want anyone to know about.

Oh, you’re not talking about proof that he killed Boggs?

No! No! Nothing like that.

Besides, that sheriff’s deputy

is just trying to set him up, don’t you think?

Mmm-hmm.

Look, if you think I’m being out of line or something--

No. No, I don’t.

Are we talking about something particular here?

Uh, no.

Not at the moment, but...

Well, Craig, you know, the thing is...

- Yeah? - It could cost me my job, and...

Don’t worry about it.

Look, suppose I could come up with enough

to make the risk worth your while.

Let’s say $1,000?

For starters?

When do you figure you could actually have something for me?

Hey, that’s not even the worst of it.

I heard from the lawyer.

He nixed the idea of a lawsuit.

He said that it’d be next to impossible

to prove that Fred actually knew

about the conditions of the house.

I guess.

Even if there was a paper trail,

Fred could insist he’d never seen it.

Oh, Andy.

Look, more to the point,

the things people have been saying I--

Well, I just hope you don’t think that I’ve

let my feelings about Fred get in the way of--

Oh, sweetheart, no!

Are you sure? Not even a little?

Not ever. Not even for a second.

I needed that.

Sory problem still hanging you up?

Mmm-hmm.

I just can’t seem to focus on it.

The unlikely image of Leverett Boggs as a blackmailer

keeps getting in the way.

Well, that means the letter Andy found is a fake.

But if that’s the case,

then it doesn’t make an awful lot of sense

for Fred to be planting a letter

that indicates he has a motive.

Well, all right.

Suppose Fred didn’t murder Leverett.

Ah, well, then the letter and the nylon cord indicate

someone’s trying to frame him.

Seth, it was not Andy Broom.

Did I mention his name?

Well, I’m surprised that you even consider that possibility.

Or it could be you’re trying to convince yourself?

Hey, Mrs. F. Doc, I’ve been looking all over for you.

Thought you might like to know

that your professional opinion’s been refuted.

Oh?

Yeah. So far today, two doctors

have shown up at the sheriff’s station.

One from New York, one from Boston.

They both examined Fred Berrigan’s hands.

They’re both willing to testify

that the rope Burns on Fred’s hand

could not have been caused by the nylon cord

that Andy found in his car.

Uh, Mrs. Berrigan? Yes, what is it?

Uh, Mrs. Berrigan, I just--

Forgive me. I didn’t mean to snap at you.

No. No. I can imagine how upset you must be.

I mean, I just wanted you to know that I...

well, we... all of us are pulling for Mr. Berrigan.

Thank you, Wendy.

I mean, I can’t believe that he would do such a thing.

And from what I’ve been hearing about this deputy Broom...

well, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did tamper with the evidence.

What? Mrs. Berrigan, is something wrong?

Not really.

Wendy, are you okay?

Oh, yeah. That was sweet of you to ask.

George, have you heard of a computer file called Norcom?

Norcom. No, why?

Wendy Arnold, line two.

Miss Arnold speaking.

Hello, sweetheart. You were gonna call me?

So, what is happening

with this Norcom. Doc file?

Look, I’m working on it. There hasn’t been the time.

Yeah. Well, I need to know if this is something

that I can use and fast.

Yeah. Well, you made that quite clear. Thank you.

- Andy. - Isaac.

Sorry to hear you got laid off.

Yeah. Thanks.

Got a couple of leads down in Portland.

I guess we’re both victims of Fred Berrigan.

But at least you did something about it.

Isaac, if you mean what I think you do--

- Andy! - Hey, no offense. Honest.

Fact is, I’m one of the few people in town

that’s on your side.

No, Mrs. Wycoff, I did not personally see deputy Broom

discover the cord in Fred’s car.

But if that’s where he said he found it...

Uh-huh. Yes. Well, you have a nice day, too, Mrs. Wycoff.

What is going on here, Mrs. F?

That’s maybe the 20th call today.

Now in all of the years that Andy’s been a deputy,

his honesty has never been questioned. Not once.

Well, I’ve even heard yours being questioned

for having defended him.

Well, that figures. Any luck?

Well, there certainly isn’t anything obvious about Leverett

or his affairs that would give anyone reason to want to kill him.

Yeah. No relatives.

He leaves all of his assets to the university.

Some stocks, bonds, a little cash.

Mrs. Fletcher. Sheriff.

Andy, there’s a whole new stack of messages on my desk for you.

If they’re like the other ones, I don’t wanna see ’em.

Norcom. Does that mean anything to you?

Sounds like one of those stock market names to me.

In which case, I’m definitely not the one to talk to about it.

Apparently, Leverett had some questions about it.

I’ve got to run. I’ll talk to you later.

This is cheddar. I told you Swiss.

Swiss is what I ordered.

Look, Fred, I want you to know

I didn’t plant that cord or that letter.

- So if you’d-- - Save it for your priest.

Fine. Suit yourself.

Hey, hey!

We both know what this is really about.

Ever since grade school,

you’ve held it against me for being wealthy,

better looking and a better athlete.

Fred, that’s just not true.

Maybe it’s time you made your peace with it.

Yeah?

Like maybe I should just roll over and play dead

after what you pulled on me with the house?

Fred, I just got a call I think you’re gonna like.

Even as we speak, your attorney’s

over at the courthouse posting your bail.

You’ll be out of here within the hour.

- Yeah! - Andy, we have to talk.

Actually, I got two phone calls.

The other was from the county prosecutor.

They’re thinking about dropping the case against Berrigan.

- You’re kidding. - Now look,

I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.

They feel because of your relationship with Fred,

that the evidence might be tainted.

The Berrigans might sue the county.

Sheriff, are you saying that--

Now look, I want you to know I believe in you 100%.

I just feel for the good of everybody,

maybe you should take a few days off.

You mean that I’m suspended?

Just go home, okay?

Well, now come on, Seth. Admit it.

I mean, this soup and this low calorie chicken pot pie

is pretty darn good!

Oh, forget it, Jessica. He’s hopeless.

On the other hand, I figure we can all use it.

That answers my question which is,

whose health are we talking about,

the purveyor’s or the patron’s?

You see, George? She doesn’t like me.

Wendy, it’s just mother biz.

I mean, there’s no woman in the world

that’s good enough for her son, that’s all.

Hey! You were gonna call, yeah?

Craig, this isn’t the time or the place.

I’m working on it.

I think you said that this afternoon.

I need answers. Now.

Look, she doesn’t wanna talk to you, Haber!

Oh. Hello, George.

I’ll call you later.

Well, that was very sweet of you, George.

Yeah. I made the mistake of promising

to contact some people for him.

Thank you.

Mmm.

Well, at least she hasn’t fiddled with the apple pie.

No? Take a look at the menu.

Reduced fat, reduced calories.

Hmm. Well, in that case,

Hannah, I wonder if possibly I could get another slab?

Hi, Dr. Hazlitt. Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, hello, George. Ms. Arnold.

Oh, by the way, Hannah was telling me

that you’re from Exeter, New Hampshire.

Mmm-hmm.

And you probably know

my cousin, Teddy. Teddy Lawrence?

Oh, not really.

I think I met him once at some function.

Oh.

Well, good evening, then.

Evening.

Oh! Thank you, Hannah.

All right, Jessica, what does that look mean?

My cousin Teddy in Exeter.

Oh! You mean the fellow she said she met?

Teddy is a she.

- Metzger. - Yeah. Sheriff, it’s me.

Yeah, Andy.

I want to report a murder.

I know how it looks, sheriff,

but I just thought maybe I could find some more evidence

that Fred killed Mr. Boggs.

So I tailed him to the country club.

He played a round of golf and then he had a drink

with that shoe leather salesman, then drove back here.

I was around the corner maybe 20 feet behind him.

I heard Fred shout,

then a dull sound when he was hit and...

when I got there he was...

And you didn’t see or hear anyone else?

No. Nothing.

Anything missing, Mrs. Berrigan?

There doesn’t appear to be, no.

Meg, I feel horrible about this.

If I’d have been just a little closer behind him,

I’d have seen his assailant,

maybe been able to save Fred’s life.

I think it’s better that I don’t say anything right now.

Caleb, do you wanna take Mrs. Berrigan home, please?

You got it, sheriff.

Meg, would you like some company?

Thank you, Jessica. I think I’ll be just fine.

Oh, Mrs. Berrigan,

would you mind telling me

where you were at 9:35 this evening?

I was home, on the phone,

to our distributor in Boston

from 9:15 to almost 10:00, I guess,

when your deputy showed up.

Sorry to have kept you here so long, ma’am.

So what do you make of it, Doc?

Massive head trauma.

Must have been hit pretty hard with something heavy.

Now, look, Andy,

this time I’m not fooling. I want you to go home,

and I want you to stay there!

All right. It’s all there, $1,000.

But why are you giving it back to me?

Come on, Craig.

Fred wouldn’t do business with you when he was alive

and now he’s dead?

- Hey! Hey! - What? What?

You know, I may not be the most...

together guy in the world, but that nuts, I’m not.

Whatever. Anyway, I couldn’t find what you wanted.

Well, what about this Norcom?

Dead end.

And with the factory shut down for a few days,

I’m out of here.

- Really? - Really.

- Come here! - What?

What? Did you find stuff out?

- Craig! - Let go of me!

Take your hands off the lady.

- Are you okay? - Thanks, George.

Come on. Let’s go.

You got that all wrong, my friend.

I am not your friend!

And you just stay away from her from now on, Haber!

You got the hots for her, don’t you?

Well, let me tell you something, buddy boy,

you’re in for quite a few surprises.

What’re you talking about?

For starters?

Why don’t you ask her where she was

about the time your boss was killed.

Try that.

What?

Good night, Georgie.

Mother, how can you say that?

You haven’t even exchanged ten words with Wendy.

It’s known as trusting this and this.

Besides, you asked.

Better return Jessica’s call.

You know, I get the feeling

you’re not all that sure about Wendy yourself.

Your tax returns. I apologize for the delay.

Hey, who can blame you?

So, how did the job interview go?

Not too bad.

Can’t say I was surprised to hear about Fred.

Or that Andy might’ve...

you know.

Yeah. It’s a real shame.

You know, it might be nice if you people knew when to shut up!

Wait a minute. Wendy lied to you?

I’m afraid so.

Okay. What’re you looking for?

Well, I’m not sure. References.

Where she went to school, you know, that sort of thing.

And Norcom.

All right. I’ll get into it right away. I’ll call you later.

Thanks.

Actually, I can’t think of much else to tell you about Fred.

There was just something almost chemical between us.

You said something about the Elm street house situation

being out of character for him?

Yeah, in a way it was.

I mean, it was consistent with

his mean-spiritedness and all,

but the one thing I could never accuse Fred of

was dishonesty about money.

He always had a thing about paying off his debts and stuff.

So maybe he really didn’t know

about the problems with the house.

And he just assumed that I was

trying to pull something on him.

Which would make me the one that was paranoid.

Well, anyway, I hope that was a help.

It was, Andy. Thanks.

Truth to tell, I feel kind of sorry for him.

How’s your writer’s block?

Well, I was up at least once every hour last night,

groggily dictating thoughts into my tape machine.

I only hope when I listen to them they make some sense.

Oh, that Norcom.

Couldn’t find it in the pharmacopoeia

or any of the medical journals.

Well, according to George Parkins,

it’s some sort of a computer file.

But what I don’t understand is,

why Wendy Arnold was inquiring about it, too.

Why don’t you ask her?

Well, I would if I thought I could get a straight answer.

Hmm.

Has it ever occurred to you

that there might be no connection at all

between this and the murder of Leverett Boggs?

Yes, it has.

I am sorry.

No, I could not have gotten back to you sooner, Mr. Fellman.

I was busy giving a statement to the local sheriff.

Look, look, look. The good news here

is that with her husband out of the picture,

there is no more problem with the Down East Footwear account.

Right. Yes, I am sure of that.

Goodbye.

The phone company confirms that Meg Berrigan

was talking on the phone

to Boston last night just like she said.

Okay, Mrs. F. Now this stuff

about Wendy Arnold’s personnel file.

You want to run that by me again?

Don’t do it, Jessica,

unless he promises to take that banana out of his ear.

Well, on her job application,

she claimed to have an MBA from Harvard.

But a friend of mine on the faculty

said there’s no record of that,

but he did recall a Wendy Arnett

from a couple of years earlier.

And when Jessica described Wendy Arnold,

it sounded to him like the same girl.

This Wendy Arnett never got her degree.

In fact, she was thrown out for cheating in her exams.

But that was only the last of a series of infractions

like computer hacking--

Wait, wait, wait, Mrs. F. Wait a minute.

I’m shorthanded,

I’ve got two homicide investigations, and so far,

nobody at Down East Footwear

has filed any complaints against this lady.

Excuse me, sheriff.

Where’d you find these?

Trash can.

Out back of Andy’s apartment.

Receipts for the purchase

of a pair of work gloves and a coil of nylon cord.

The kind that was used to strangle Leverett.

The kind Andy claims to have found in Fred Berrigan’s car.

So when you’re suspended,

you don’t have any authority as a police officer, do you?

No, I don’t, but...

Then I don’t have to answer any more of your questions.

Darling, let it go.

Oh, just one, okay?

Mrs. Fletcher and Doc Hazlitt

said you left the coffee shop with George last night.

Now did you go over to the shoe factory?

Look, like I told the sheriff,

I went home and that’s where I’m going now.

Patty. Andy.

Sheriff. Those receipts.

Did you verify my fingerprints weren’t on them?

This isn’t about receipts, Andy.

Five minutes ago, we found

what looks like the weapon that killed Fred Berrigan.

It’s a heavy wrench with blood and hair on it.

Where’d you find it?

In the trunk of your car.

Andy, I’m arresting you for murder.

Yeah. Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it very much.

Talk to you later on. Forensics.

Preliminary ID on the hair and blood

indicates it was Fred Berrigan’s.

And there were no fingerprints on the wrench?

Or on the receipts.

Like I’ve been telling you, sheriff.

Look, Andy, I wanna believe you,

but look what we have to work with here.

You claim to have discovered the evidence against Fred.

You blame Fred for cheating you and Patty big time on the house.

And now, you allegedly discover Fred’s body.

Excuse me. I could’ve sworn

you said you wanted to believe him?

Look, Patty. Mort...

there’s something here that just isn’t tracking.

Nobody is suggesting that Andy killed Leverett Boggs.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

And if Andy didn’t place

that evidence against Fred...

Then either Fred strangled Leverett

or somebody else did to frame Fred.

Which is what Andy’s been saying all along.

It all seems to hinge on questionable evidence.

Hinge. Of course.

The gate hinge.

Say what?

Norcom. I believe I know how to find out what it is.

Look, sheriff, Mrs. Fletcher,

I swear I never even heard of this...

what is it, Norcom?

And I certainly was not in the office last night.

Then how do you explain these fibers?

After Fred was killed,

I snagged my sleeve on the gate hinge

between his and Meg’s office.

Now I noticed that someone else

had caught themselves on it.

Someone wearing the same colors

as the muffler that you wore earlier in the coffee shop.

Now, George told me that when he picked you up at your apartment,

you were removing the price tag.

Meaning you just bought it.

All right. Yes. I was there.

You were trying to learn about the Norcom file?

I found it on a printed list

of Down East Footwear’s computer files

that Leverett Boggs kept in his desk.

He’d underlined it.

But I couldn’t find it on any of their computers.

I had tried them all except for Mr. Berrigan’s.

So you went back to his place

to see if you could find it on his computer.

And was it there?

Oh, I never found out.

I had just fired up Mr. Berrigan’s computer

when I heard the door open.

I thought it was him.

I snuck out as fast as I could.

So you never actually saw Fred or Andy?

No. I never saw anybody. Really.

You believe me, don’t you?

Come on, I’ll take you home.

Just don’t leave town.

Um, are you gonna tell Mrs. Berrigan

that I gave false information?

That is your decision, Wendy.

Yeah. I don’t know that that broke any laws.

Seth, what on earth are you doing?

Trying to reach-- Oh! Shh! Shh! Shh!

When Doris leaves,

inspector Cardiff should recall

the telltale coffee stain he saw on page 42.

Oh, the heck with it!

If Dr. Henry Pinkwater wants to talk,

he’ll have to call me.

Mmm, one of those voicemail setups, huh?

Oh, exactly.

An old friend of mine with a big HMO up in Augusta,

they’ve got this recorded voice

that gives you several multiple questions.

And you’re supposed to punch in the answer,

and, Jessica, I tried. I-- Jess?

Oh!

I’ve gone and given you some kind of answers again, haven’t I?

Yes, Seth. You have.

If I’m correct, I know who killed Leverett and Fred,

and I think I know how it was done.

I think I’ve got a Boston telephone directory upstairs.

What is it you wanted me to see?

Oh, I’m running a password program.

It’ll come up in a minute.

You know, this Norcom file,

the only computer in the whole office that’s got it

is your husband’s.

I guess that’s the password.

It figures.

Ah, North Comorra... Norcom.

And that’s where you fill in

the amount you want to transfer.

I’ll be damned.

So that’s where all the money was disappearing to.

Fred was skimming it into a Caribbean bank account.

Uh, Mrs. Berrigan, if you’ll forgive me,

I think it was you who was stealing the cash.

But you set it up on your husband’s computer

just in case you were discovered.

And when Leverett Boggs found out what you had done,

you killed him.

And made it look like Mr. Berrigan did it.

- Ah, that’s totally ridiculous! - Oh, really?

Look, you’ve gotta understand, I don’t really care,

any more than the fact that I saw you

kill your husband last night.

What?

I found this by his body.

And I’m sure the police will be able

to match it to your clothing.

Look, all I want is a reasonable amount of money,

say $100,000 to start--

I knew you were up to something. Give me that button!

Hold it right there, Mrs. Berrigan!

Nice work, miss Arnold.

Work? What do you mean?

Wendy was out of here

before you killed Fred,

and the button came off one of my skirts.

Aren’t you forgetting something?

I was on the phone to our Boston office

when Fred was killed.

No, you weren’t on the phone, Mrs. Berrigan.

But this was.

The call you placed

was to an employee you knew

wouldn’t be there at that hour.

The continuous music from your tape recorder

kept his voicemail line open while you were gone.

And when he listened to his messages this morning,

he heard the music, Beethoven’s Fifth,

the same music we found this evening on this recorder of yours.

I’d had it with Fred!

He was a lazy bum! A rich man’s son.

I did all the work. I made the company viable

while he played golf and ran around with other women.

A little over a year ago,

I began siphoning money into that offshore bank.

They confirmed there’s a little over $3,000,000 in that account.

I figured when I got it up to five,

it’d be "goodbye Fred, goodbye Down East Footwear."

And you put the Norcom file on Fred’s computer

so that if anyone found it, they’d think it was his doing.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Leverett stumbled across it.

And he must’ve discovered the shortages.

He probably wanted someone to confirm his suspicions.

And be sure of the numbers.

So he asked me for the names of my accountant and my attorney.

So you strangled Leverett and tried to hang your husband for it.

I thought I might be able to have it both ways,

hold on to Down East Footwear and get rid of Fred.

But it began to unravel

when it was Andy who happened to find the evidence.

The one person in Cabot Cove

who seemed to have a motive to frame him.

So I figured I’d just stick it out for a few more months.

But then that creep of a salesman, Craig Haber,

found out about Norcom from Wendy.

And he told Fred.

Fred called me from the country club.

I said we should meet at the office and look into it.

I rigged the phone call to Boston,

then went to the factory and waited for him.

No!

I must’ve just missed seeing you.

Well, the toughest part?

Trying to convince the folks who doubted me

- that there are no hard feelings. - Huh!

Well, if it was me,

I’m not sure I’d be that charitable toward them.

Patty, Andy, thought you might like to see this.

They just faxed it to the office from the county courthouse.

Whoa! They’ve awarded us money from the Berrigans!

Enough to pay for all the repairs.

Fantastic!

Well, that really is something, isn’t it, Jess?

Jess?

Of course!

She didn’t kill those people.

Ralph Melville, the furnace repairman,

he did it.

Well, wait a minute, Mrs. F, you mean Meg Berrigan didn’t...

Oh! No, no, no, no, no!

It’s my book. I just solved my story problem.