All language subtitles for MrSWr3E03.Unfinished.Business.

A ten-year-old unsolved murder?

And I was one of the suspects.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Oh, Lord! It's my husband!

Isn't that where Dixon was killed ten years ago?

Where he accidentally drowned, you mean.

What happened?

What do you think happened, you damn fool?

Somebody's trying to kill me.

Stop trembling, Cindy.

You'll give yourself away.

I'm chilly, Terry, not guilty.

I want you to call in the state police.

No, ma'am.

"Supercop."

I'm sure you all know how this man got that name.

No, not because he served longer

than anyone else on the force.

No, no.

And not because in all his years as chief of detectives,

not one single major murder went unsolved.

No, no, no, please.

Please, no, no.

Ladies and gentlemen, the real reason we pay homage

to this man, and pay, and pay is simply because he is

the only police officer in the history of this city

who has swindled us out of not one, not two,

but three solid gold retirement watches.

But now at last,

we have finally thought of a way

to outwit this great detective

and stop the drain on our treasury.

The envelope, please.

Lieutenant Bernard "Barney" Kale,

on the occasion of this, your final retirement,

we, your friends, do hereby bestow upon you this solid gold

trip around the world.

I guess that should get rid of him.

Oh, this is good.

There's no date on it.

So I won't have to go until maybe next spring.

Because you see, it is simply not true

that I've solved every major murder case.

Have you forgotten Lowell Dixon?

One of our own county prosecutors?

I know it's been ten years,

and I know that my good friend the coroner

called it accidental drowning.

But I know better, my friends.

And now that I have the time,

I'm going to prove once and for all

that Lowell Dixon was murdered.

Pull!

Pull!

Pull!

Anne? Dr. Mayhew.

I want you to cancel my flight to Tokyo tomorrow.

No, no, nothing's wrong.

Something personal came up.

It's a sad thing to grow old...

and perhaps Lieutenant Barney Kale

feels there ought to be a law against it.

As one who has followed Kale's career with admiration,

I cannot help but feel that perhaps he's looking

for one last burst of publicity.

To refresh your forgetful young minds,

Lowell Dixon died ten years ago

at a place out in the Boondocks

known as Juniper Lake.

A well-known prosecutor of politicians

- and other grafters... - Yes?

Mr. Dixon died after inhaling too much lake water.

I'm sorry. I can't hear.

Who?

Oh, yes.

Yes, I--

I remember you, lieutenant.

What do you want?

I'm calling to tell you, Miss Tate,

that I'm headed for Juniper Lake.

I thought you might be interested.

No, not really.

If you catch any wild geese, let me know.

Before you hang up, be aware of one thing.

I'm a private citizen now. The rulebook's out the window.

And one way or another,

I intend to find out who killed my friend, Lowell Dixon.

Don't give me that "friend" business, lieutenant.

You were a part of that swindle,

that pie-in-the-sky recreational village.

I was just a secretary.

Miss Tate, we both know what you were.

Now, I'm gonna bring in Dixon's killer

with your cooperation or without.

A man of your age

gallivanting all alone in the mountains.

Stop your fussing, Ethel.

I'll call you in a few days.

Where from, St. Mary's cemetery?

I heard how you were talking to those people,

and they don't like it, not one bit.

Of course they don't.

That's the whole point, Ethel.

See you in a few days.

Crazy old fool.

Gary and Maggie Roberts, hmm?

Mr. And Mrs.? You want to see a license?

No, sonny.

Credit card will do or something like that.

What's the matter, pop?

You don't take cash?

Gary, please.

Cash will be fine.

Uh, how much is that?

Twenty dollars.

Cabin number one is usually 30,

but we're running a little slow.

Slow?

Looks to me like you stopped.

How long you planning on staying?

Uh, ask my husband.

This was his idea, stopping here.

One day, pop.

You don't need more than one day to catch a fish.

There is a fish in your lake, isn't there, gramps?

- Excuse me. - Sure.

If there was a fish, I'll bet you've got it

stuffed in the bar by now.

Cynthia. What in the blazes?

Lord Almighty, it's great to see you.

Oh.

Why didn't you call or something?

Oh, Jake. You're kidding.

You mean you don't know?

Know what?

Kale?

He's gonna start that up again?

Looks like it.

Have you talked to Seth?

What's he doing about it?

Seth Hazlitt?

To tell you the truth, Jake, I haven't seen him in years.

I think he dropped off the end of the earth.

Seth? Yoo-hoo.

Seth.

Seth?

Oh, Jessica.

I think you're getting wax buildup in your ears.

I'm glad I wasn't an emergency case out there.

Just daydreaming.

Well, you're not coming like that.

Coming? Coming where?

To the Founders' Day planning committee.

Oh, you've forgotten.

Well, we were roped into service last week.

Oh, Jess, I'm sorry. I forgot all about it.

I've had a lot on my mind.

What is it, Seth?

These came for me special delivery from an old friend.

That is, if you could call Barney Kale anyone's friend.

Ten-year-old unsolved murder?

And I was one of the suspects.

That's ridiculous.

Tell Kale.

That old bloodhound is determined

to dig the whole thing all up again.

Tell me.

Oh, Jess, it's not your problem.

Oh, now, Seth, stop this foolishness.

Now, tell me.

I was practicing in Portland then.

I had--

I'd just lost Ruth, and money was tight.

Well, because of the medical bills,

I got involved in this investment.

There were four of us up at Juniper Lake that summer

in hock up to our hips.

Jake Sanford owned the land,

but it was mortgaged to the limit.

Terry Mayhew had almost $200,000 in the project.

He was the assistant administrator at the hospital.

And then Cynthia Tate was Terry's secretary

and I guess a little bit more.

Anyway, Dixon came up

and threatened to expose the whole thing.

Oh, Seth.

Well, Jessica, it was ridiculous.

There was nothing to expose, but he was a city attorney,

and if we had had any hint of scandal,

the whole thing would simply just start to come apart.

Hint of scandal. We got that, all right.

Dixon's dead body facedown in the lake,

and now this old fool

is determined to drag it all up again.

Well, it's obvious what he wants

by sending you this letter.

Oh, yes. Me on the griddle again.

Then don't go.

Well, I never even considered it.

Tell you what, woman, let's go see

what sort of nonsense the Mayor has dug up

for this year's extravaganza.

- Shall we? - Right.

And you keep that smile right there where it belongs.

On my honor, unless we run into Amos,

in which case, all bets are off.

Lieutenant Kale.

Well, this is a surprise.

You're a lousy liar, Sanford.

Just give me my old cabin, the one with the tub.

I'll be here a few days,

and don't ask why because you know why.

Afraid I gave your old cabin

to a young couple from Skowhegan.

Then move them out.

I need the privacy worse than they do.

They can take one of the little cabins,

and I'll pay for it myself.

Come on. Let's go!

Well, I suppose I could say

that you had a prior reservation.

And they're not rich. That's for sure.

Fine.

Who else is here?

Yeah, I--I'll think of something to tell them.

- Hello? - Mrs. Fletcher. Amos Tupper.

Hello, Amos.

Hate to bother you, ma'am.

Trying to reach Doc Hazlitt.

Thought maybe he might be up there with you.

No.

Supposed to have my annual checkup tomorrow,

but I got to head over to Rockwater to serve a summons.

Well, I haven't seen Seth since six o'clock.

He dropped me off and said he was going straight home.

Well, I called him four times in the last couple of hours.

I can't figure where he might've gone.

Amos, will you pick me up right away?

Ma'am?

No questions. I'll explain on the way.

On the way where?

Hurry.

Still think we should've just called.

You know, this is out of my jurisdiction.

Amos, we're not here officially.

We just came to be sure

that Seth didn't do something stupid.

If he's here.

Place looks deserted.

Looks like you were wrong about Doc being here, Mrs. Fletcher.

This ain't Doc's car.

There's a man! There's a man in there!

That old police officer's cabin. Lieutenant Kale!

Wait. Don't come in.

That can't be Lieutenant Kale.

It looks like a younger man.

Oh, Lord! It's my husband, Gary!

Yeah, Millie, dead man's name was Roberts.

Gary Roberts.

Address, 119 Conway Avenue, Skowhegan.

White, male adult.

Still no answer.

I'm worried.

Oh, Doc's okay, Mrs. Fletcher.

Probably just went off on a house call or something.

For 12 hours?

Speaking of missing,

they still haven't found that police inspector yet.

What's his name? Kale?

There's something mighty funny going on around here.

I don't think that "funny" is exactly the right word.

So, Mrs. Fletcher, what do you think?

About what?

The lady.

Stranger gets himself killed from short range.

One blast from a shotgun. Who would want to kill him?

Who else even knew him?

Amos.

Well, I'd question her myself,

but like I said, it's out of my jurisdiction.

Guess the deputy's waiting for the sheriff.

Oh, there's the search party. I'm gonna join them.

See if I can help them find that lieutenant.

Get those dogs unloaded.

Come on.

You know, I'm sure that we could get Mr. Sanford

to rustle up a little breakfast.

No. No, thanks.

Can I call anyone for you?

To your family?

No.

Gary and I were alone.

Come on! That's it!

That way's to the fire trail,

and the lake's off to the right.

Isn't that where Dixon was killed ten years ago?

Where he accidentally drowned, you mean.

This way.

Lieutenant! What happened?

What do you think happened, you damn fool?

Somebody's trying to kill me.

Here you go.

Stop trembling, Cindy.

You'll give yourself away.

I'm chilly, Terry, not guilty.

How about you?

I think the temperature in here is just fine.

You weren't in your cabin last night.

I'm afraid I spent most of the night in a sleeping bag

down at that beach by the end of the lake.

No kidding.

- There we go. - I'm all right.

I'm all right. Turned my ankle, that's all.

Bad try, you two. Next time, finish the job.

I'll get some bandages.

Here, let me have a look at that, lieutenant.

Don't put your hands on me.

Dr. Terence Mayhew, Mrs. Fletcher.

Runs the fancy hospital in Rolling Hills,

you know, the one just outside Portland.

More like a hotel for the rundown rich.

Well, you always knew how to hustle a buck, Doc.

Thin-skinned too.

I'm going out to the car

and see if I can raise Sheriff McCoy.

Joe, you found the shotgun yet?

- Still looking. - Shotgun? What shotgun?

A man was shot and killed this morning, lieutenant.

What man?

His name was Gary Roberts,

and he was found in your cabin.

Mrs. Fletcher thinks--

I can guess what Mrs. Fletcher thinks.

Well, obviously, he wasn't a friend of yours.

No.

I'd like to know what he was doing in my cabin.

He was the kid I moved to the smaller cabin.

Lieutenant, may I ask you

what you were doing down by the lake?

Yes, you may ask,

and since I assume that your question

is no more than feminine curiosity,

I'm even gonna answer it.

I was hunting a skunk, Mrs. Fletcher.

One of the two-legged varieties.

I'd gone down there about midnight

just to look around, just to see what I could see.

You see, Dixon was murdered at night.

So there's a dock down there,

a ladder leading down to the water's edge.

I'm going down the ladder; it breaks.

Now, I must have hit my head or something.

Next thing I know, the sun is in my face.

These dogs are yapping in the woods,

and I figure that somebody must've known

that I was going down to that lake,

because I do not believe that that ladder rung

just broke accidentally.

Amos, I am really worried about Seth.

Well, maybe he didn't head up here at all.

Maybe he got called out on some emergency.

Oh, I don't believe that.

Not the way he was acting yesterday.

Well, if I catch up with him,

I'll be sure to give you a call.

You sure you want to stay here?

That girl, Maggie, I want to stay with her,

at least until things get sorted out.

She's frightened, and I don't blame her.

Yeah.

- Amos. - Hmm?

When you get back to Cabot Cove,

it might be helpful to find out anything you can

about these people here...

Dr. Mayhew, Miss Tate, Jake Sanford--

Seth's old friends from years past.

Just in case Doc was here.

Exactly.

Mrs. Fletcher?

We're over here.

Oh, I was just looking for Maggie.

Well, she went inside to put some whiskey in my tea.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

How are you feeling?

- Better, thanks. - Good.

She was just telling me about her husband.

Yes, I was saying, Gary...

Gary had been in prison for the past three years.

Massachusetts. He got out last week.

Assault, armed robbery.

Maggie, I did notice that there was

some expensive camera equipment in the lieutenant's cabin.

No, he didn't go there to steal anything.

It was his sneakers.

His what?

Well, his tennis shoes.

When Mr. Sanford offered to move us to a different cabin,

Gary must have left them behind.

Anyway, when he started to go to bed,

he noticed his sneakers were missing,

and he wanted to wear them in the morning,

so off he went to get them.

Only he didn't come back.

Finally, I went over there myself.

And it was so quiet.

So dark.

Maggie, I know this has been a very difficult time for you.

We're gonna let you rest here, and we'll come back later.

Lieutenant, supposing you left a pair of your tennis shoes

in somebody else's cabin, and when you got there,

nobody was home.

If I were the Roberts kid, I'd probably go inside,

get what belonged to me.

Except that while you were in there,

somebody came up on the porch,

somebody with a shotgun.

Dark.

The kid hears a noise, opens the door.

And this somebody, assuming that Gary is you,

fires the gun.

Ma'am, you catch on quick.

Phil McCoy.

The sheriff?

A wonder to me people haven't booted him out.

Come on.

- All right. - Seth!

Seth.

I'm--I'm all right, Jessica. I'm all right.

Sheriff, just what is this about?

Well, now, you'd be Mrs. Fletcher.

Yeah, Millie said you were up here

looking for this fella.

I found him wandering around about six miles from here.

Well, are those handcuffs really necessary?

- Roy. - Yes, Sir.

Take this fella inside. Give him some coffee.

Breakfast if he wants it. County will pay.

And you can take them off.

Well, lieutenant.

It's been a long time. Sure has.

- How you been? - Been better.

Seeing you doesn't help much.

Well, you sure haven't changed.

Come on. Let's take a look.

Seth, what happened? We've been worried sick.

Inside.

I've been out quail hunting since late yesterday

with a couple of boys.

That deputy finally caught up with me

at Fowler's Meadows about an hour ago.

Yep, ten months, I finally get myself

a couple of days off, and what do you think?

I got myself a killing.

Ha!

Boy, them quail were sure running.

Ho-ho.

Well, what do you think, Barney? Got any ideas?

As I recollect, you usually do.

Got a couple. McCoy.

How do you know the murder took place in that cabin?

'Cause Millie told me, that's how.

Thank you.

Seth, what happened?

Where have you been?

Where haven't I been?

This damn country's nothing but tall timber and dirt roads.

I missed a turn in the dark last night,

went 20 miles up the wrong road,

ended up in a ditch with a broken axle.

Spent the rest of the night trying to find my way

back to civilization.

But you told me you weren't coming up here.

Well, I didn't want to worry you.

Oh, Seth.

Anyway, McCoy found me walking along the road.

Oh, I remembered him from ten years ago.

That's right; he was sheriff around here then too.

He remembered me also.

And I suppose because he had this murder case on his hands,

he thought he better not take any chances, so...

But may I ask exactly why you are here?

Well, when I found you were missing, I was concerned.

Jessica.

I'm perfectly capable

of taking care of myself.

Oh, yes, I can see that.

Car niner. Car niner. Come in, please.

Roy, are you there?

Yeah, Millie, I'm here.

Sheriff get there?

Yeah, he's here. He's got 'em all in the lodge,

just finishing up lunch.

Looks like we're gonna be here all day.

Listen, McCoy, you can't keep us

locked up here like prisoners.

Now, Doc, nobody's a prisoner.

No, I just figure that till those lab boys get here

from Augusta tomorrow morning,

we oughta just kind of stick around.

I have patients in the city.

I have no intention of sticking around.

Excuse me.

Funny.

How all of a sudden you're so concerned

about your patients.

Yesterday, when you was coming here,

you weren't so concerned, now were ya?

Why don't you just sit down?

Have a piece of Jake's peach pie.

Excuse me.

As a point of law, sheriff, you have no right

to hold all these people here incommunicado.

That a fact?

Well, I guess in the big city things are a little different.

Well, the big city that I come from,

sheriff, is Cabot Cove.

Oh yeah, Amos Tupper. How is he?

I heard he was here earlier.

Sheriff.

Now, ma'am, don't you fret yourself.

I'm gonna find out who killed that boy.

'Cause I agree with you and old Barney.

It's murder now. It was murder ten years ago.

Whoever got Roberts was gunnin'

for the lieutenant sure as blazes.

If I get me this killer,

then I got the killer of Lowell Dixon too.

Over here.

Hmm.

Initials "TM" right on the stock.

Must have wondered where it was, eh, Doc?

I didn't know it was missing.

I thought it was still in the closet.

I figure it's been out in the woods

ever since last night.

Been fired too. Both barrels.

You won't get any prints, McCoy.

Not with all that dirt.

Do you keep your cabin locked, Dr. Mayhew?

Of course not. I have nothing to steal.

Except a shotgun.

McCoy, I have no more use for the doctor than you do,

but there are no ballistic tests for a shotgun blast.

Jake Sanford, he's got four or five of those

in his back room.

Any of them could have been the murder weapon.

Except this is the one we found in the woods.

I'm telling you

you botched the Dixon murder ten years ago,

because you trampled all over the rules of evidence.

Don't do it again.

Bar open, Sanford?

Right, lieutenant.

Give me a whiskey.

- Lock it up. - Him too?

Not yet.

Sheriff McCoy's still the same blockhead

he was ten years ago.

Oh, I guess he could say the same about us, Terry.

I see you haven't lost that temper of yours.

Look, Seth, I didn't kill anybody.

If I'd gone after Kale, I would have gotten him.

Believe me.

My turn, Seth?

No, I'm not the police.

How have you been, Cindy?

Oh, okay.

- I finally got it all, Seth. - Yeah.

Everything I ever wanted,

my own business, money, security, a big new house.

You know what it all is?

Garbage. That's what it is.

Garbage.

All I know is, he said he wanted to go fishing.

Yes, but where's his fishing gear?

I mean, there's no sign of a rod or tackle in here.

And, well, you'll forgive me,

but I did take a look in your car.

Your key was in the ignition.

I--I didn't press him about it.

I just went along.

He came here

for another reason, didn't he?

I don't know.

But you did suspect.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher.

It wasn't much good for Gary and me when he was sent away,

but I always figured,

whatever he did, he'd done it for me.

I couldn't just walk out.

Not while he was in prison.

Then when I saw him again for the first time

three days ago, I knew it was over.

I was looking for a way to say it,

but I never got the chance.

He was so full of big plans.

He was gonna buy me the moon.

Furs and jewels and a house.

"Soon, honey," he said.

"A few days."

I said, "What are you gonna do? Rob a bank?"

And he just smiled.

"Better," he said.

"Better and safer."

- Nothing more specific? - No.

Did he mention anyone's name, like Dr. Mayhew?

Nobody.

And did you notice any sign of recognition

between Sanford and your husband when you checked in?

- Not that I saw. - Or Cynthia Tate?

You said you'd passed her on the way in.

Her either.

Mrs. Fletcher, what is it?

I'm not quite sure.

Well, so there you are.

There's a phone call for you, ma'am.

Go ahead, Amos.

Well, this Dr. Mayhew,

he was supposed to go to Tokyo a couple of days ago

for sort of a vacation.

Suddenly, decided he'd changed his mind,

to go hunting, he said.

Well, that figures.

Now, about this Miss Tate...

She runs a real fancy boutique in Portland.

Her employees haven't seen much of her during this past week.

Just bought a new house.

Had a heck of a time trying to get the address.

You know, real fancy neighborhood,

unlisted phone, the works.

Now, about Mr. Sanford--

Amos, forget about Jake Sanford.

I want you to call that prison in Massachusetts.

Find out everything you can about Gary Roberts.

The victim? Sure, but...

Jessica.

No buts, Amos.

Call me back as soon as you know anything.

There you are.

Wondered where you'd sneaked off to.

Well, I just had a little chat with Roberts' widow.

Mr. Sanford, do you have any Maine road maps around here?

In the desk drawer under the books.

- Thank you. - Jake, while you're there,

- make me a double. - Right, lieutenant.

Jake, why don't you break down

and make some fresh coffee?

I wouldn't feed this slop to my prisoners.

Fresh pot brewing out in the back.

Are you onto something, Mrs. Fletcher?

I just want to check my math, lieutenant.

For instance, when is a straight line

not the shortest distance between two points?

Sixteen plus 41...

Now, check me on this--

Plus 12 more makes...

Sixty-nine.

I always was quick at figures.

What's the point?

The point is,

a man heading from the Massachusetts prison

to his home in Skowhegan

goes 69 miles out of his way

to fish in a lake without a rod to fish with.

You saying Roberts stopped here for another reason?

Seems to me that's what she's saying, McCoy.

Maybe we should take a look in his cabin.

Nope, cabin's sealed

till the lab fellas arrive here from Augusta.

Sheriff McCoy, we have all done

our very best to humor you,

and you have been acting like Genghis Khan.

I am running out of patience.

At the moment, you are obstructing justice.

You are holding private citizens here

against their will.

Now, far be it from me to drop names,

but one telephone call to the Governor of this state--

Mrs. Fletcher.

Since you put it so nicely, we'll just go take a look.

Let me get my drink. I'll be right with you.

Just so we understand each other, Mrs. Fletcher.

I don't care doo-dah about the Governor or anybody else,

but I do care about catching that killer.

I surely do.

Whether you believe it or not.

Come on.

Looking for anything in particular, ma'am?

Yes, and I don't see them.

The sneakers.

Right.

Mr. Roberts told his wife

that he came back here to pick up his sneakers.

And if so, where are they?

But if that wasn't the reason that he did come back,

then why?

I want to try something.

Now, Mrs. Fletcher, please don't touch things.

Lieutenant, could you unplug that, please?

Sure.

Oh, right. I see.

- Well, maybe you see, Kale-- - Jess, be careful.

Will you leave these things alone?

Sheriff, do you really want to solve this crime,

or was that just talk?

Now, remember, the room was dark.

Mr. Roberts was shot from the doorway.

Nobody heard the shot,

which indicates that the door might have closed.

But if the killer couldn't see who he was shooting at

because the room was dark...

Or was it?

Lieutenant.

Wait a minute.

Why, that means--

That means Roberts wasn't killed accidently.

It was on purpose.

The light was on.

Which means that the killer

wasn't after Lieutenant Kale at all.

I was so sure. So--

Lieutenant.

Here.

Ah, Kale's tough.

He might even live.

Seth, are you sure it was poison?

Well, you saw him.

What do you think?

Dr. Mayhew.

Believe me, I don't want to seem

to be meddling, but I have to know.

Why did you come here?

The same reason the others came.

Self-protection from the wild accusations

of a publicity-seeking old fool.

Look, ten years ago, a man was killed.

We were the suspects.

There was no evidence, no charges filed,

but Kale wouldn't let the nightmare rest.

I didn't come here to kill him,

but I was gonna make damn sure

that I wasn't railroaded behind my back.

Excuse me.

What do you got there, Roy?

Doc Hazlitt had it right, sheriff.

That drink was laced with arsenic.

They say a few more sips, and he'd be stone dead by now.

Maybe you should check out the occupied cabins, sheriff.

- What for? - Arsenic.

I know my job, ma'am.

Let's see what those forensics fellas have come up with.

Sheriff!

They found this under one of the sofa cushions

near where the body fell.

There's no prints. They checked.

Hello. This is Cynthia Tate.

Sorry I can't come to the phone right now,

but I'll call you back as soon as possible.

Please leave your message after the tone.

I don't have the vaguest idea

why Roberts would have had my telephone number.

A brand-new unlisted number too, Miss Tate.

Look, I never even met the man.

I saw him for a minute once,

passing by as I went into the lodge.

Jake Sanford claims that you weren't

in your cabin last night.

Well, Jake can claim any damn thing he wants.

Look, I went for a walk last night

to visit Terry Mayhew, if you must know.

He wasn't there.

I looked around, didn't find him,

came back, and fell asleep.

Dull but accurate account of a lady's evening.

Somebody up here knew the victim, sheriff.

Maybe from the Lowell Dixon days.

Thought of that.

Ten years ago, he'd have been about high school age.

Already checked the schools.

Nobody around here by that name then.

Well, what about a friend of a friend?

Someone who lived up here and knew Gary Roberts.

Sheriff, may I have that phone number, please?

Yes, ma'am. Right here.

Ten years ago, we weren't even open yet.

How about Howard Sykes?

The landscaper?

Yeah, he did work here for a while,

but he was gone by the time Dixon died.

That, the cajun woman? The cook.

Marie Reneau? Haven't seen her in years.

- What is it? - Joe Cabrini.

What about him?

A real bum. A jailbird.

Didn't know it till after I hired him.

Caught him stealing whiskey from the storehouse.

Last I've heard of him, they nabbed him somewhere

for grand theft and locked him up,

for good, I hope.

Locked him up where?

I have no idea.

- Cabrini? - Joe Cabrini.

It's an outside chance, but he might have had

something to do with Gary Roberts.

Will you call the prison back?

No need for that.

Got his name right here.

Cabrini, Joseph W.

Till a couple of months ago, he was Gary Roberts' cellmate.

- Oh, was he released? - Not exactly.

Got stabbed in the laundry room.

Died.

So whatever Cabrini knew...

He passed on to his friend, Gary Roberts.

And Roberts came here to blackmail somebody.

His wife told me that he had big plans,

that he was coming into some money soon.

Except it backfired.

The killer got to him first.

Which means...

Which means what?

Which means that I think I know who your killer is.

Sheriff, I want you to call in the state police.

No, ma'am.

But sheriff -No, Mrs. Fletcher.

You know who's guilty, you just tell me.

It was your jurisdiction ten years ago, wasn't it, McCoy?

Meaning I botched the Dixon murder,

and you don't want to see that happen again?

It won't.

Look, I have a thought.

Why don't we bring everybody together

in the main cabin and talk this thing out?

Blackmail! I knew it.

Lieutenant, maybe you should go back to bed.

And miss all this? I've waited ten years.

And, ma'am, you're onto it.

That lamp in Roberts' cabin,

that dumb story about him coming here to fish.

It figures.

Roberts knew who the killer was,

put a bite on him, got bitten for his trouble.

Well, with one exception.

The Lowell Dixon murder was perfect.

This one was strictly ad-lib.

You know it wasn't me.

I was down by the lake sleeping.

So you say, Terry.

And where were you, Seth?

Wandering around the backwoods somewhere?

Who's your alibi? Bambi?

Well, the point is that no one really has an alibi.

You're forgetting.

It was Cynthia's phone number that Roberts had.

That tells me only one thing.

Cynthia, it was you he was blackmailing.

I told you!

I--I've never seen the man before in my life.

Young lady, there's no way Roberts could have had

your unlisted telephone number unless you gave it to him.

Oh, and I suppose I put the poison

in your drink too, lieutenant.

I wasn't even in the room.

Ah, please. Would you let me continue?

I don't believe

that the scribbled phone number was genuine.

I think that it was planted by someone

to point a finger of suspicion at you, Miss Tate.

You see, I believe that the number

was hastily scrawled on this pad.

Torn so that the "Juniper Lake" part would be eliminated.

I think that planting this number in Gary Roberts' cabin

was a desperate, last-second thought.

Remember, Gary Roberts had passed Cynthia

as she was entering the lodge.

Yet there was no hint of recognition, was there?

Well, no, no.

And so it was planted.

The question is: who planted it?

Now, more to the point,

who had an opportunity to plant it?

Because except for one short period earlier today,

that cabin was sealed until the forensic team

opened it up and found the slip of paper,

and there were only four people in that room:

me, Lieutenant Kale, Sheriff McCoy, and Seth Hazlitt.

But there's no power on earth that would make me believe

that Seth is the killer.

Don't like your tone, Mrs. Fletcher.

And I don't like yours, sheriff.

If you are accusing me of murder--

I'm not.

Lieutenant, you knew that I was onto Gary Roberts.

You had to shift gears.

You had to fake another attempt on your life

and implicate somebody.

- Anybody. - Are you crazy?

I was laying on the beach unconscious.

No, you were in the cabin waiting for Roberts

to kill him and divert suspicion

by re-implicating the old suspects.

Then you went down to the lake,

faked your fall, and waited to be found.

You knew everyone would assume Roberts was killed by mistake

by someone out to kill you.

I don't know where you're getting all this.

This pad was by the bar.

Remember just before we went to inspect the murder cabin,

you went to get a drink?

You knew what I was thinking.

That's when you jotted down Cynthia's number

to plant it in the cabin,

probably at the same time you slipped a little poison

into your own drink.

Madam, you have a lively imagination.

That phone number is brand-new and unlisted.

Now, since Cynthia didn't give it to Gary,

who could have gotten access to it?

A noted police figure? Why not?

You'd been doing it for years.

Sheriff McCoy could have.

Oh, McCoy was off

quail hunting with two witnesses

when Roberts was killed.

And don't tell me, you didn't know

Cynthia Tate's phone number, lieutenant.

One reason she's here is because you called her

at her home at that unlisted number.

Guess that was a mistake, wasn't it?

What?

A bad ad-lib?

Very nice, Mrs. Fletcher. Very nice.

Lowell Dixon was a sanctimonious do-gooder.

He caught me doing a few favors for the wrong people.

I'd been operating like that for years.

Nothing serious, you know.

Just a little, "you do for me, I do for you."

It got results,

but it violated his puritan sensibilities.

He was gonna bring me up on charges.

I would've been dismissed.

And ten years ago, Mrs. Fletcher,

I was not ready to be dismissed.

Dixon was a very religious man.

Always talking about getting to heaven.

And I...

I just simply helped him on his way.