Original subtitles

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I'm taking over your company.

The hell you are.

You have just been picked up by a policeman.

Some fillies like being ridden hard.

His attractive young wife

was Clark Blanchard's playmate.

Ginny.

Did Clark do this?

I'm arresting you on the suspicion of the murder of your husband.

Ginny was delighted to hear from you, so was I.

Well, I couldn't come all the way to Los Angeles

on publishing business and not at least call.

Now we couldn't let you slip through our fingers

without inviting you to our anniversary party.

Has it really been five years, already?

Uh-huh.

And you don't look a day older.

And you haven't lost your way with the ladies.

Tell me, how is Ginny?

Is she's still turning out those charming children's books?

I haven't seen her name on the lists recently.

We've been keeping her pretty busy,

but I'll let her tell you all about that.

I'm so glad you came, Jessica.

Well, I really haven't done anything impulsive in weeks,

but, you know, I certainly didn't expect

to be picked up in a private jet

or by you personally, Clark.

My pleasure.

I have one of those boring business meetings in L.A. this morning

and I absolutely have to be back in Santa Barbara for lunch.

We're roughing it today.

Hmm, some roughing.

You know, Clark is a very dashing figure

on a Rafa horse.

Oh, he's a real man's man.

I know, he certainly found his way into your heart.

Oh, I'm so glad you're here, Jessica.

I hope we'll have time for a good talk before you go.

Oh, of course, we will.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

Scott.

My goodness, you've grown six inches since the wedding.

You were in high school then.

He's at U.S.C. now.

Number one singles on the tennis team.

Actually, it's number three, Mrs. Fletcher,

but mother keeps moving me up.

Well, it's only a matter of time.

Now tell me, why aren't you playing polo

with your stepfather?

It's because I don't have a death wish.

Competing with Clark Blanchard

could be considered hazardous to one's health.

I'll see you tonight at the festivities, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm gonna say hi to some friends.

I'll see you later, gorgeous.

Great.

Enjoying the action?

Oh, yes.

Was it Churchill who said, "the outside of a horse

is good for the inside of a man?"

I tell you what, if he didn't, he should have.

Greg.

You want me in the next chukker, Clark?

Now Carlson tore up his shoulder again.

Change jerseys and play for the competition,

such as it is.

Whatever you say.

See you later.

Allison, come join us.

Jessica, this is Allison Franklin, Greg's wife.

Jessica Fletcher.

How do you do, Allison?

Your husband was the one who was going to fill in

for the opposing team?

- Yes. - Oh.

I guess that's what vice president of operations is.

Anything that Clark wants.

Well, I think it's very nice that the competition fills in

for a disabled player.

Well, polo is a gentleman's game,

at least on the surface.

Better move it.

Are you okay?

Clark, I had the ball.

Well, you should know better than getting between me and my goal.

Ginny, you know, I've never understood why you stopped writing

because your children's books were doing very well.

Well, as you can see, being married to Clark Blanchard

keeps me real busy.

Tell me, what exactly does he do?

I've never quite sorted that out.

Timber, real estate, electronics.

He acquires things.

Everybody, I know I hate speeches.

And no one's ever accused me of being sentimental,

but I've been married to this lovely lady for five years now.

She's put up with all my faults,

and made me happier than I ever deserved to be.

So, Ginny, a little token of my love.

Oh.

Here, let me put it on for you.

For all the good times, and to make up for the bad ones.

When we married, I promised you the moon and the stars,

this is a down payment on the stars.

Clark, that must have cost more than the last company you acquired.

Don't ask.

I'll tell you one thing, Margo,

you better be certain it's on the insurance rider.

Oh, thank you, darling.

It's no more than you deserve.

I hope this will make up for the fact

that I've got to go back to L.A. tomorrow.

Again?

Do you have to?

I'm gonna give you and Jessica some quality time.

I love you.

Oh, Ginny.

That is so lovely.

Not many girls have friends like that.

Are you alone, Scott?

Oh, hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

So you're at U.S.C.?

Yeah, it's close, I could be home on weekends,

kind of keep tabs on things.

You mean the family business?

From what I've seen of business close at hand,

no, it's not for me.

Oh, so what are you studying?

I've changed majors three times now.

Any advice, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I could suggest that you ask

one of those pretty young ladies over there to dance.

Best advice I've had all day.

Excuse me.

Mrs. Fletcher.

They told me you'd be here.

Oh, since nobody's introduced us,

I'll have to do it myself.

I'm Paul Stratton.

How do you do, Mr. Stratton?

I couldn't help overhearing your advice to Scott.

Mind if I take it myself?

I hate to waste a slow one.

Well, let's not waste it.

You know, I'm sure you must have heard this

from a lot of men, but I've been wanting

to meet you for years.

Really, Mr. Stratton?

Are you a mystery buff?

Well, sort of.

But my interest in you goes even further.

Do you know that in certain circles

you have quite a reputation?

Oh, my.

I hope it's not in the wrong circles.

Very select.

You have just been picked up by a policeman.

Well, I wish I could say that it was the first time.

Sounds intriguing.

You have to tell me all about it.

Clark, I have to tell you, I'm not happy with the terms

that your legal boys have proposed for the merger.

That's because it's not a merger.

It's a takeover.

I'm taking over your company.

The hell you are.

Well, you're perfectly welcome

to stay on at a comfortable salary

and whatever title your ego may require,

as long as you don't make waves.

Forget it.

You got no deal.

A little late for that.

I already own all your controlling shares.

Accept it.

You'll have more time for polo this way.

And you always were a better polo player

than a businessman.

Boy talk?

Or can girls play, too?

Best games I know include girls.

You were playing a little rough this afternoon.

Some fillies like being ridden hard.

Allison?

Allison!

Here you are.

I thought you might like to dance.

Which reminds me, I have yet to dance with my bride.

So how does a homicide detective

come to know the Clark Blanchards?

Polo.

Finally had to give it up

when my bones started getting brittle.

You still haven't told me why you were arrested.

Well, it was all a big mistake.

Anyway, it's a long story.

Good.

You can tell me all about it over dinner tomorrow night.

Well, I'm afraid that I have plans with our hostess.

The night after.

I'm flying back east.

Well, at least you'll have to let me show you Santa Barbara.

Will you get off my back?

Clark, please.

Shut up!

Clark. No! Don't!

Ginny, what's the matter?

Can I stay here with you for a few minutes?

Well, yes, of course, what is it?

Did Clark do this?

Oh, he's just had a lot of drink.

Oh, but this?

Oh, and it's probably my fault,

he says I pick at him.

I'm too possessive.

That's no excuse for this.

Oh.

Jessica, I'm so embarrassed.

Can we just forget this ever happened?

No, no, I'm afraid I can't forget this.

I mean, this bruise has been here for some time.

Ginny, does this happen often?

I'd better go.

Clark will be so angry if he thinks I've told anyone.

Ginny. Listen. Listen to me.

I want you to stay here with me tonight.

Oh.

Oh, Jessica.

I don't know what to do.

Well, you have to do something.

Now you have to deal with this.

And when James died, Scott was only 10.

I never met James.

He was in Congress, as I remember.

Representative from Virginia.

Anyway, I threw myself into the Washington scene.

I started writing children's books.

And then along came dashing, handsome Clark Blanchard.

Now that was about the time we met.

Yeah.

I never knew what he saw in me.

Well, it's quite obvious that he saw a very attractive,

talented woman, who would have been a prize,

incidentally, for any man.

You know, I seem to remember there was a senator

who sent you tons of flowers.

Yes.

Anyway, Clark swept me off my feet.

I didn't believe it could happen,

but there I was, in love again.

He was very sweet and generous, romantic.

But?

But sometimes when he drank too much...

And afterwards, so remorseful and loving...

Oh, I just can't help feeling that I did something wrong.

It's not your fault, Ginny.

It's a sickness.

It's Clark's sickness.

Your only fault is in allowing it to continue.

But...

I'm not gonna try to tell you what to do,

because I'm not an expert on wife battering.

And there are people who are trained in these matters.

But I'm gonna tell you something very plainly.

There are only two things you can do,

seek professional advice or leave the relationship.

Good night, Andre. Thank you.

Well, well, look who's here.

- Hello. - Mrs. Fletcher.

Ginny.

Oh, it was a lovely party last night, Ginny.

Thank you.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.

Hello.

Well, apparently everyone in Santa Barbara dines early.

Well, I'm afraid we didn't have much choice tonight.

Clark called from Los Angeles.

He wants me to cover something for him up in San Francisco,

so I have to be on a 10 o'clock flight.

Ginny, would you have a word with Clark

and tell him he's working my husband too hard?

Oh, I'm afraid Clark doesn't listen to me

when it comes to business.

Good night.

- Good night. - Good night.

Good night.

I'm really sorry, Ginny.

He was a fine man and a good friend.

I know how hard this is on you.

But was there anything of special value in the beach house?

We can't rule out break-in, you know.

Oh, nothing.

Nothing worth killing for.

He was supposed to be in Los Angeles, Paul.

Right.

Well, we'll check that out later.

I know there's a simple explanation,

but we found your purse there.

It's our beach house.

Why wouldn't my mother's purse be there?

No reason at all,

except your driver's license was in there,

and if I'm not mistaken, you usually drive that silver blue BMW,

don't you, Ginny?

What are you getting at?

I'm just sorting out a few details, Scott.

Now you said that Clark was supposed to be in Los Angeles.

When did you see him last, Ginny?

I saw him last night at the beach house.

Mother.

No, Scott, it's all right. It's all right.

When Jessica said that she was gonna go to bed early

with a good book, well it seemed like a good idea.

So I remembered a book I hadn't finished reading,

it was down at the beach house,

so I drove down there to get it.

And Clark was there?

Yes, that's right.

I only stayed a few minutes.

He was alive when I left.

That must have been about 11:00.

And you just forgot and left your purse behind.

Why are you asking her all these questions?

Can't you see how upset she is?

You're right.

I'm sorry, Ginny.

Scott, you take her on home.

We can do this later.

Paul, I really appreciate you letting me take a look around.

It's my pleasure.

Now this door was open, like you see it now.

There were fresh traces of sand on the deck and in the house,

like someone had just come up from the beach.

But you found him in the car.

Severe blow to the left side of his head.

I suppose you probably noticed that the fireplace...

poker is missing from this set.

We're looking for it now.

Paul, you don't honestly think that Ginny...

Jessica.

It's too soon for me to know anything for sure.

Could you stay on for a while?

Well, a day or two at least.

I'm glad.

For Ginny's sake.

Ginny, I can't believe that you told the police

you actually went to the beach house

and confronted Clark without me being there.

Paul Stratton is a friend, Margo.

Paul knows very well that he shouldn't question you

without your attorney present.

Now what else did you tell him?

Well, what I didn't mention is that when I got there,

Clark had been drinking heavily.

And you didn't know he'd be there?

No, he told me he was going to Los Angeles.

Anyway, he was in a vile mood and he accused me of spying on him.

And he hit me.

But after talking with you yesterday,

I told him I wasn't gonna take that anymore.

I told him I was gonna call the police.

And did you?

He only laughed,

that's when he tore the phone out of its connection

and I just ran out of there.

And that's why you left your purse.

And my car keys were in it.

But luckily the keys were in his car,

so I just jumped in and drove back here.

I didn't want to bother Jessica,

so I had a good cry...

and I went to bed.

No, Ginny.

I don't think that's good enough.

I don't think a jury would go for that.

No.

A stronger plea would be self-defense.

But I didn't...

We're gonna use the battered wife defense.

Now you struck him but only in self-defense.

After he beat you and threatened to kill you.

We'll develop the history of his abusive behavior,

no woman on a jury would convict.

And we'll pack that jury with women.

Oh, Margo, I'm not sure that I...

You've got to get real.

Now forget all the guilt and denial stuff, honey.

Clark deserved killing.

They won't convict you now.

Trust me on this.

It's Paul Stratton.

Hello, Ginny.

Hello, Paul.

Are you here officially, Margo?

I'm representing Mrs. Blanchard, if that's what you mean.

Then I'm glad you're here.

I've got to ask you some questions, Ginny.

I've got big problems with Clark's death

and they concern you.

Look, Paul.

I'm not going to let Ginny make any statements,

incriminating or otherwise.

If you want to make a formal charge, go right ahead,

if not, we have nothing to say.

I thought that's how you might feel about it, Margo.

I'm really sorry about this, Ginny, but I have no choice.

I'm arresting you on the suspicion of the murder

of your husband, Clark Blanchard.

I assume you've heard the news, Allison.

Yes, it's a terrible thing.

Poor, Clark.

I'd always assumed he'd be shot by a jealous husband.

Or by a disillusioned business associate?

We all have our fantasies.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid his wife beat me to it.

Was there something specific you wanted

or is this a social call?

I'm sorry, this is business.

Well, Greg is not here.

I don't expect him back from San Francisco for a couple of hours.

Good.

I wanted to have a word with you.

May I?

You want to talk to me about business?

How refreshing.

Now we all know what a bright young man Greg is.

But he could never have risen so fast,

without a clever and supportive wife, could he?

Now I'm sure you're aware that... much of Clark's empire was publicly held,

Clark being a great believer in using other people's money.

Well, I know there's a lot of stock outstanding

and Greg has a block of options.

See?

I knew you'd grasp this right away.

Now that Clark is dead...

someone has to fill the vacuum

and protect the interests of the shareholders.

Now why do I think you already have someone in mind, Dane?

Because after the merger,

I happen to be one of the largest stockholders.

Well, you know, other than the family, of course,

but I'm afraid that poor Ginny is going to be preoccupied.

I want Greg's support at the shareholders' meeting.

I would think Greg's support would go to himself, Dane.

A promotion is certainly in order for Greg.

Possibly to president, and obviously,

another block of options.

But I want control of the board of directors.

And why should Greg support you?

That is why I wanted to talk to you.

Because if he doesn't, then I would be forced

to tell him about what went on between you and Clark.

Is that blackmail, Dane?

No, merely protecting one's interests.

Thank you for the drink.

Paul?

Jessica.

I was going to call you, but under the circumstances...

Paul, I know that I shouldn't interfere, but...

No, I understand.

We're both Ginny's friends.

You know she's made bail?

But this whole thing, I mean, it's just not right.

Could we talk?

Would you let me take you to lunch?

Look, Jessica.

I think the world of Ginny, but I've got a job to do.

Sure, I could turn all of this over to somebody else,

but I think she's better off with me.

Paul, are you aware that Clark used to beat Ginny?

I wasn't, until Margo Saunders made the point.

It's true, because I've seen the bruises with my own eyes.

Well, that makes things easier.

Of course, it would have been better still

if she'd had a complaint on record, but it helps her defense.

If she actually had anything to do with his death.

Look, we're not even filing first degree,

I booked her on second degree,

and the D.A. may even bargain down to reckless homicide.

She might even get off with a suspended sentence.

But I'm not entirely convinced

that Ginny had anything to do with Clark's death.

That's not for me to decide or you either.

And maybe it's better that way.

And I got to be honest with you.

There's a strong case against her.

And I'm not sure that I see it that way.

She's already admitted she was there.

Clark was found in her car, her fingerprints were all over everything.

Of course her fingerprints were in her car and in her house,

but there must have been other fingerprints, too...

Her family, friends.

Jessica, Clark's blood was on her purse,

which proves she was there after he was killed.

The thing that makes her culpable

is that she left him there to die without seeking help

after she hit him.

- Oh, hi, Mrs. Fletcher. Come on in. - Scott.

How is your mother?

She's okay.

Margo Saunders got her off on bail.

She's in the living room.

Scott, were you aware that Clark was...

well, sometimes violent towards you mother?

Yeah, I knew.

Look, she never said anything, but I'm not stupid.

I heard the fights, I saw the bruises,

and I'm glad he's dead.

She's finally free of him.

Well, he may be dead, but I'm not sure

that she's free of him.

At least not yet.

It was self-defense, Mrs. Fletcher.

Margo Saunders says she can beat it.

They won't put her in jail, will they?

I don't know what will happen,

but I am not convinced that your mother is responsible for Clark's death.

I think there's a possibility that someone else may have killed him.

Yeah, that's true.

Lots of people hated him.

Dane Kenderson, for openers.

Clark reamed him real good on this last merger.

Yeah, and with Clark dead, Dane may even get control of the whole company.

Yes.

Well, I need to talk to your mother.

- Thank you, Scott. - Okay.

Ginny?

Oh.

Are you all right?

Yes, I'm fine.

Margo arranged for my release.

Yes, I know.

Paul Stratton told me.

Oh. You saw... You saw Paul.

Well, that's good.

He's been so very nice about everything.

I'm sorry this had to spoil your visit.

Will you please stop apologizing?

Ginny, I'd like to help, but frankly I'm a little confused.

Really? Why?

Well, you told me that Clark was alive when you left and now...

Ginny, I don't think you should discuss this case

with Jessica, or anyone else, without me.

Oh, Margo, just a minute.

You could be called as a witness, Jessica.

You wouldn't want to be forced to give testimony against her?

Margo, I certainly hope that that doesn't happen,

but I can't stand by and watch Ginny

pleading guilty to a murder that she didn't commit.

Jessica, this is a matter best left to an attorney.

Is it? I'm not so sure about that.

What do you have to say, Ginny?

Oh, perhaps Margo knows best.

Ginny, if you struck Clark and he died,

I'll give you every bit of support that I can muster,

but if you're going to plead guilty to protect someone else...

Of course not.

Who would I be trying to protect?

Ginny, I forbid you to say anything more.

So you are here, Mr. Kenderson.

Mrs. Fletcher.

What brings you here?

Well, your answering service said

that you were in the Blanchard offices, so I took a chance.

Although I knew that the offices were closed

in mourning for Mr. Blanchard.

But I see that you had work that couldn't wait.

We have an emergency board meeting in the morning

and I need some documents to protect my position.

Yes, I understand that your position has greatly improved

since Clark's death.

No one is indispensable, Mrs. Fletcher.

Not even Clark Blanchard.

I'm sorry Ginny bashed his brains in,

but I've learned never to let sentiments interfere with business.

Oh, but the case against Ginny Blanchard is far

from conclusive, Mr. Kenderson.

I mean, there is a theory that somebody else killed him.

If you're suggesting that I did in poor old Clark,

I'm afraid you're in for a disappointment

because I can account for my time

during the unfortunate incident.

Really?

And what time was that?

I wouldn't know.

But as a matter of fact, I was on the phone

all evening and half the night to Tokyo.

Police are welcome to check my phone records.

Actually, you know, if the police really are looking for someone else,

they might want to talk to Greg Franklin.

Because Greg might have discovered

that his attractive young wife...

was Clark Blanchard's playmate.

I understood that Greg Franklin was in San Francisco.

Really?

That's not what I heard.

If you'll excuse me, I do have some paperwork

to catch up on.

Oh, would you be kind enough to latch this when you leave?

We certainly wouldn't want people just wandering

in and out uninvited.

And there he was as bold as brass,

rifling through the locked file in Clark's office.

Okay, so maybe Dane Kenderson had a motive.

And he also said that he was on the phone all evening to Tokyo.

Paul, the telephone company records

may show the lines were busy,

but it doesn't prove that Dane Kenderson was on the line.

It doesn't prove he wasn't.

And another thing.

Greg Franklin may have had a motive.

Apparently, there was something going on

between his wife Allison and Clark Blanchard.

Now, wait a minute, Jessica.

Clark was no saint.

Sure some other people may have wanted him dead,

bur right now Margo Saunders

is negotiating with the D.A.'s office

to plead Ginny guilty to third degree murder.

Well, I'm sorry, Paul, but I just don't believe it.

I think that she's just frightened and confused.

Why would Ginny plead guilty to something she didn't do?

Well, I'm not sure.

Maybe because Margo has convinced her

she has a better chance pleading guilty.

And I have this gnawing feeling that it's something else.

Paul, I have to talk to you.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, hello, Scott, what can I do for you?

You can drop the charges against my mother.

She didn't kill Clark, I did.

I'm confessing, okay? I killed him.

Hold on a second, Scott.

Do you want an attorney present?

I don't need a lawyer.

Scott, are you doing this because of your mother?

No.

I mean, yes.

I don't want her taking the heat for something that I did.

Well, why don't you tell us what happened?

I went to the beach house to pick up a tennis racket that I needed.

I didn't think Clark was gonna be there, but he was.

He'd been drinking.

He started giving me some crap, okay?

We got into it pretty good.

I told him if he ever laid a finger on my mother again,

he'd have to deal with me.

That's when he threatened to kill me.

He made a threat against your life?

Yeah.

Paul, it was self-defense.

He pulled a gun on me.

He said he was gonna blow my brains out...

A gun?

What kind of gun?

I don't know, a revolver.

I guess it was a .38.

Anyway, that's when I hit him hard.

He went down and hit his head on the corner of the fireplace.

I could tell he was hurt real bad.

There was blood everywhere.

And how did he get to the car?

I don't know. I left.

I guess he must have dragged himself to the car.

I guess he bled to death.

Why didn't you call the police or call for an ambulance?

I don't know.

I thought he was dead.

I just wanted to get out of there.

Look, Paul, like I said, he tried to kill me.

It was self-defense.

How about the revolver?

Paul, was it found at the scene?

No.

That's because I took it with me.

And where is it now?

I threw it in the ocean later on.

Paul, could I have a word with you privately?

Jessica, we've been over everything here with tweezers,

but if you want to have another look, fine.

Maybe you'll see something we missed.

I don't even know what I'm looking for, Paul.

Something to make sense, I guess.

You see, I just can't believe Scott's story.

I think he's making it all up to protect Ginny.

Yeah, that business about the revolver seems pretty convenient.

Not to mention transparent.

I mean, it's as if he made it up to prove self-defense.

I mean, look.

There's not even any blood here on these sharp angles

of the fireplace.

And he didn't even mention the missing poker.

I think that he was guessing about how Clark died.

What about the bloody purse?

Maybe Scott was here and got into a fight with Clark.

And then maybe Ginny came later.

Maybe Scott phoned her.

Well, I don't know, but there's definitely a pattern here

if we can just sort it out.

I mean, why was Clark here in the first place?

He was supposed to be in Los Angeles.

That door was open.

There were fresh traces of sand on that deck.

And why move his body to the car?

Maybe Clark was trying to get away from his killer

and got as far as his car.

The bloody handprint on this rail

and the door jamb...

Were they Clark's?

Yes, they were.

You know, there's another possible scenario here.

Suppose someone entered after Ginny left,

suppose there was a fight and Clark was hit with the poker.

Okay.

I suppose the assailant tried to get Clark to a hospital.

I mean, the bloody handprint suggests that Clark

was on his feet here.

And he went through the door,

probably supported by his assailant,

who would've gotten blood all over his clothes.

But if he was trying to help Clark,

why didn't he get him to a hospital?

Perhaps because Clark died in the car.

I mean, there'd be no point in taking him anywhere.

And now it becomes murder.

It makes sense up to a point.

Why didn't the assailant just phone for an ambulance?

Well, because Clark had torn the phone out

when Ginny was here.

Paul, where is that phone?

In the evidence locker.

Well, there doesn't seem to be any blood on the telephone,

which tends to back up Ginny's story

that she left before Clark was struck.

Okay.

But there was blood on her purse.

But she said she left it there when she ran out.

Clark or somebody else handled the purse after he was hit.

Look, the telephone has a redial button.

Care to try a little experiment?

The last number he dialed might still be in the memory.

Well, it may prove nothing, but on the other hand,

it might be a key piece to fill in the puzzle.

Hello?

Hello?

Anybody there?

That was Greg Franklin.

So the last person Clark phoned was Greg.

Who happens to live about a half mile down the beach.

Paul, it's only a possibility, but I'm starting to get a hunch

about what might have happened.

It's something that Dane Kenderson told me.

Mrs. Fletcher. Paul.

Come in.

Can I get you anything?

I was just about to mix up a pitcher of martinis.

No, thanks, Greg.

We just stopped by to tie up some loose ends.

Well, how about you, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, nothing for me, thanks.

Now, if I've got it right,

you were in San Francisco the night Clark was murdered.

Oh, that's right.

In fact, Allison and I ran into Mrs. Fletcher

and Ginny at a restaurant an hour before my flight.

Isn't that right, darling?

Yes, I drove him to the airport.

But why all the questions?

I mean, Scott has confessed, hasn't he?

It's an hour in the air from Santa Barbara to San Francisco.

Greg, can you prove you stayed over that night?

Well, of course, I can, but why should I have to?

I just want to get all the facts straight.

What are you doing, Mrs. Fletcher?

I was noticing this poker.

Did you know that according to the medical examiner,

it was a poker like this

that was used to inflict the fatal blow to Clark's head?

No, I didn't know.

Well, it's been rather warm for a fire lately.

Well, I suppose near the ocean it gets rather cold at night.

Greg, a solid alibi would sure put my mind at ease.

Now, the way I see it, you had a pretty good motive.

The story is that Clark and Allison were having an affair.

That's a lie.

All right, I knew about it.

But I didn't kill him, I was in San Francisco. I can prove it.

I spent the night with a friend.

And she...

She can vouch for me.

But who can vouch for you, Allison?

Me?

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about murder.

You see, there were so many little things

that didn't make any sense until you put them all together.

Clark sent Greg to San Francisco on business...

and told his wife that he was going to Los Angeles.

It's an old, old story.

But I suspect that Clark had other plans for the evening.

Plans to see you, Allison.

Absolutely not.

The last number that he dialed from the beach house

was to the phone in this house.

But he knew that Greg was away.

It's only a 10 minute walk down the beach from here.

Allison, I remember that pretty white dress

that you were wearing when Ginny and I met you

and Greg at the restaurant.

You know the one, the pretty silk one with the brass buckle.

Where is it?

I... I sent it to the dry cleaners.

No, no, I don't think so.

I think that you burned it right here in the fireplace,

because it must have been badly stained with Clark's blood.

The dress burned, but the buckle didn't.

I think you must have arrived after Ginny left.

Perhaps Clark was upset.

But anyway, I think that you quarreled.

Did he hit you?

He was drunk, abusive.

I'd never seen him like that before.

He called me a slut,

said that I was using him to advance my husband in the firm.

I slapped him.

He went crazy.

He grabbed me around the throat.

And I managed to push him off,

but he came after me again,

and somehow the poker was in my hand.

He just laid there bleeding.

I was so frightened.

I wanted to call an ambulance, or...

But the phone was torn out.

Yes.

And then he came to.

He wanted me to take him to the hospital.

He got the car keys out of Ginny's purse.

And I got him up on his feet and helped him to the car.

But when I got him into the car, he passed out again.

And he wasn't breathing anymore.

I ran all the way home along the beach.

I threw the poker into the ocean.

Well, Allison.

We better get you a lawyer.

It looks like you've got a pretty good case for self-defense.

I wish you could stay, Jessica.

But I know how busy you are.

That's what you need to do, keep busy.

Yes, yes, you're right.

Strange.

It's as if some terrible weight has been lifted from me.

I know.

You really thought that Scott had done it, didn't you?

Ironic, isn't it?

And he thought I'd killed Clark.

He's a fine young man.

Have you thought about what you're gonna do?

Are you gonna write more children's books?

Perhaps, when I'm ready.

Oh, Jessica.

Thank you for being here.

I don't think I told you this, but when I saw Clark that night,

I told him I was gonna leave him.

That's my cab.

Jessica, wait.

I think I better let you in on our little conspiracy.

Paul Stratton called.

He's taking you to the airport.

And I think I'd better warn you,

he said something about taking his vacation

on the East Coast this year.