All language subtitles for MrSWr902

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

Hello, is anyone there?

I’ll tell you the whole story.

One thing’s for sure,

it’s gonna shake this town right down to the ground.

I strongly suggest you not write that book.

You left out the "or else."

Something terribly wrong happened here 30 years ago.

The truth is rarely popular.

Sometimes it’s downright dangerous.

Then we’ll just have to stop him, won’t we?

Would someone like to tell me

what all of this mad Maggie business is all about?

The inquest ruled it’s accidental,

but there’s always been some doubts.

This isn’t even about us anymore.

It’s about you and your father.

Owen Cooper was killed by a shotgun blast at point-blank range.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, I’m sorry, Arnold.

I guess it’s getting to be that time.

I’m afraid so, yeah.

Still looking for that perfect poison?

Oh, yes.

I know it’s here somewhere, deadly, exotic,

virtually impossible to detect.

Until the murderer gets caught on the last page.

Oh, you’ve been reading my books.

Well, I’ll just gather my stuff together.

Oh, no hurry.

I just wanted you know that I’m leaving.

Just be sure and lock up when you finish.

Oh, fine. Thank you, Arnold, I’ll do that.

Good night, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, good night, Arnold.

See you tomorrow, Arnold.

Randy Sloan?

Oh, my goodness, you surprised me.

Mrs. Fletcher, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.

Well, that’s quite all right.

I just didn’t know that anyone was here.

I didn’t know that you were back in Cabot Cove.

Oh, you’re a fine friend,

not even telephoning your favorite teacher.

I just got in this afternoon.

I meant to call, but I stopped off here first.

I got so lost in these old files, I guess,

I just got oblivious to everything.

Same old Randy.

So what brings you back?

Last I heard you were

working on a Portland newspaper.

Portland Gazette. Still am.

But I’m chasing a story of my own right now.

Oh, what’s the story about?

Well, I’ll tell you what? It’s getting kind of late.

How about if I fill you in on everything over breakfast?

My treat.

Deal. And be sure to bring your clips.

I want to know what you’ve been up to since you left high school.

Here you go.

This stuff is strong enough to jumpstart your heart.

Sally, I am just going to have pigs in a blanket.

Uh, give me just a minute, Mrs. Hanson,

I’ll be right back to take your order.

If I don’t get a coffee fix over to Sam Tabbot right away,

you’re going to hear yelling and screaming

like you have never heard before.

Come on, Sally, how about my refill?

Hi, Sally.

Randy, hi.

I didn’t know you were back in town.

I just got in yesterday.

Listen, what time do you get off work?

Me? 6 o’clock. Why?

I have to see you. 6 o’clock will be fine.

Well, I don’t have--

Please, I do have to see you.

I’m sorry, Randy,

but I have plans.

And for this one I went undercover

at a company engaged in mail fraud.

The story got me three death threats

and an award for the best investigative story of the year.

That is wonderful.

You know, Randy,

I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.

You know, back in high school, I always knew you had talent,

but it takes more than that to become a good reporter.

It takes determination and persistence and ingenuity.

How about luck?

Oh, I don’t think that luck has anything to do with that.

And knowing your work as I do--

More coffee, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, yes, thank you.

Sally, I really do have to talk to you.

I already said no.

6 o’clock, after you’ve finished work.

I’m sorry but I’m working two jobs, and with school at night,

I really don’t have time for anything else.

So you mentioned last night that you’d tell me today

about why you’d come back to Cabot Cove.

A story of your own, you said?

Not just a story, a book.

Oh, that’s wonderful. What’s it about?

Mad Maggie.

You mean Margaret Babbington?

Only the most famous scandal this little town ever saw.

That was over 30 years ago.

Good stories never die.

Oh, that’s why you were digging

through all those old town records last night.

Births, deaths, land deeds,

business transactions,

I want to know everything,

details, details, details

as befits the bloodiest killing in Cabot Cove history.

Yes, but why?

I mean, that story must have been

gone over a hundred times.

As I recall there was nothing extraordinary about it.

I mean, there was no mystery about who did it.

Let’s just say I’ve dug up a new angle on it.

Oh.

Like what?

Not yet.

I still have a few more things I have to confirm.

But once I have all the facts in place,

I’ll tell you the whole story.

One thing’s for sure,

it’s gonna shake this town right down to the ground.

Well, I’ve only seen

strychnine poisoning a couple of times, Jess.

But I have heard that convulsions,

will sometimes leave the corpse

with a kind of grimace on the face.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, hi, sheriff.

Come on in, we’re in the dinning room.

Doc.

Sheriff, nice day.

Yeah, says you.

Oh, you have a problem?

I’ve got some newspaper guy

from Portland driving me crazy.

He wants to dig into all my old files.

Randall Sloan.

Yeah, how did you--?

Never mind.

So listen, would someone like to tell me

what all of this mad Maggie business is all about?

Well, tragedy mostly.

Years ago Margaret Babbington

and her cousin Emily Weymouth and their fiances,

Owen Cooper and George Latimer,

went hunting in the woods somewhere up North.

Margaret and Owen drifted away from the other two.

And there was some sort of a quarrel.

Owen Cooper was killed by

a shotgun blast at point blank range.

The inquest ruled it’s accidental,

but there’s always been some doubts.

Now the Babbington family has been rather well-known

in Cabot Cove for some years,

so naturally the newspapers made a big thing of it.

It was really very sad.

I mean, Owen’s death undid Margaret completely.

She was judged insane,

committed to a mental institution

and died a short time later.

Well, it sounds like an open and shut case to me.

So why is this guy digging so hot and heavy

into it after 30 years?

And with construction cost pegged so low,

we’ll get the whole thing, the wharf, a restaurant

and six stores up for 2.3 million.

Then we just nudge the rents up by 8% every two years.

Ah, what do you think, George?

I guess it sounds okay.

You guess?

We’ll be doing nothing but counting money.

Okay, let me take another look at the numbers,

I’ll get back to you tomorrow.

Good, I’ll talk to you then.

You know you could have at least paid some attention.

What for?

You didn’t need me.

You had him jumping through hoops as always.

I thought that was all over.

I’m not saying Sally is not a nice girl, but she’s not right for you.

You had no business starting up with her in the first place.

- Now wait a minute. - I know. You think you’re in love.

We’ve had this conversation.

But you got to be reasonable about these things.

Come on, Neal.

Lots of other girls in Cabot Cove

and from the right families too.

Janet Weymouth, for example.

Why don’t you start taking her out?

’Cause I’ve never been big on frost bite.

Well, we need more information.

Maybe we can find out something over here at the pharmacy.

Oh, isn’t that Janet Weymouth?

- Oh, hi, Janet, how are you? - I’m fine.

And how is your mother?

Not so good, I’m afraid.

She doesn’t even go out of the house.

Not good.

I know.

She hardly sees anyone anymore.

And now that I have my own apartment in town,

practically the only time we see each other

is when we have dinner on Thursday nights.

She asked about you the other day, Mrs. Fletcher.

If you could find some time to stop by.

I’d love to do that.

And as long as I’m pushing,

about the luncheon this afternoon?

Oh, I haven’t forgotten.

I’m very much in favor of anything

to get that community center built.

I’ll be there.

Great. I’ll see you later.

- Another fund-raiser. - Yes.

Well, I’m not going. I’ll spend money, I know it.

I can just feel the cash sliding out of my wallet now.

Hello.

Yes, that’s the one.

Randall Sloan.

He’s asked to see me.

No, I didn’t say anything.

But tell me, my dear, after all this time

why does he want to talk to me about Maggie?

Then we’ll just have to stop him, won’t we?

Hello, Mother. I see you’re up and around.

There’s much to be done.

And I know it.

There never seems to be enough time.

What was that about Randall Sloan?

Do you know him?

We went to high school together.

He was year ahead of me. Why?

What kind of a young man is he?

Well, I really didn’t know him very well.

He was always into books, studying.

After he graduated I heard he went to Portland,

became a newspaper reporter.

Why all the sudden interest in Randall Sloan?

It’s nothing important.

I take that you’ve finished preparations for the luncheon.

All taken care of.

You are coming, aren’t you?

I’m sorry, Janet, I’m really not up to it.

They’ll be disappointed.

We must all learn to live with disappointment, Janet.

It’s an imperfect world,

sometimes a considerably imperfect world.

Are there any more contributions for the building fund?

You’re a true friend, Sarah. Thank you.

How was lunch?

Oh, it was very nice, thanks.

Good, because it’s gonna cost you.

Oh, I know that’s already done that.

Not that I’m complaining, mind you, I’m just--

Complaining, I know.

Well, yes, complaining puts it nicely.

Not that I haven’t always wanted

an antiqued stuffed moose head but after paying all that money

you’d think the least they could do

is throw in the rest of the moose.

Seth, it’s for a good cause.

Sally, I forgot to ask you at breakfast time,

how is your night school going?

Oh, fine.

Yeah, my marks are up and I’m saving money

from the two jobs I’m working.

So another semester I’ll be able to go back to college.

The oldest living junior in the State of Maine.

Good for you.

But I’m gonna do it and I’m gonna make

some kind of life for myself.

If you’ll excuse me.

If you have any complaints about lunch

you’ll have to see the manager.

Come on, Sally, I just want to talk.

Sorry, Neal, I’m all talked out.

Look, all I’m asking is that you be patient.

I’m gonna work things out.

I know you don’t believe it,

but I’m gonna do it, I promise.

It seems to me I’ve heard this before.

You know, sometimes I think

this isn’t even about us anymore.

It’s about you and your father

and which of you gets to decide what happens to my life.

It’s not fair.

Maybe not, but talk is cheap, Neal.

And I have to get on with my life.

The alternative is just too painful.

Ladies, gentlemen,

first of all, thank you for coming.

The checks have been added

and combined with the seed money

donated by mother, Emily Weymouth,

well, let’s just say that at this moment

the new Cabot Cove community center is at last a reality.

Folks, folks, we regret that Emily

couldn’t be with us today,

but on behalf of the building commission

I’m proud to announce

that the new building will be named

the Emily Weymouth center.

Thank you, Mr. Latimer, it’s very thoughtful.

I’m sure my mother will be pleased.

The blind auction winners can pick up

their new items Friday at the town hall.

And don’t forget to collect

you door prizes on the way out.

Thank you again.

Randall.

Hi.

Janet Weymouth.

Of course.

You haven’t changed a bit since high school.

Just ten years older, that’s all.

I heard you were in town.

Are you covering the fundraising?

No, not exactly.

I’m-- I’m researching a book.

I’m writing about the Margaret Babbington case.

Margaret Babbington?

Why on earth would you be

interested in something that happened so long ago?

I’m sorry, I have to go.

Mr. Sloan, hi.

Hi there. I’m George Latimer.

I couldn’t help overhearing about your book.

Margaret Babbington was one of my closest friends.

I’ve done my homework, Mr. Latimer, I know that.

30 years ago the media turned it into a circus.

Now this book of yours is gonna make it circus time all over again.

Now is there anything I can say to talk you out of writing?

No, I’m afraid not.

I don’t get it. What’s so important about a 30-year-old tragedy?

Nothing, if it was only a question of going over old territory.

But I’ve got a whole new slant.

And once I have all the pieces in place

it is gonna knock Cabot Cove on its ear.

I’m on the trail of something

that no one else knows, except maybe you.

I strongly suggest you not write that book.

You left out the "or else."

You’re making a big mistake. You’re buying more trouble than you can handle,

very serious trouble.

Is that a threat?

It’s more than a threat. It’s a promise.

I can wait if you’d like.

Oh, no, thank you, Seth.

I’ll be fine.

You can tell me what you find.

From the look of it, it must be some place.

Have you ever been inside?

Oh, hardly anyone ever goes in there now.

She wants it that way.

Oh, Emily, I wish you could have been there.

You know, this new community center

is going to mean so much to the young people.

Oh, I’m glad.

But you will be there for the ground breaking ceremony.

No.

No, I don’t think so.

I’m sure Janet will tell me all about it.

She keeps me up to date on most of the news from town.

Then I take it, you know about...

Randall Sloan? Yes.

He’s a former student of yours, isn’t he?

Yes, one that I’m very proud of.

I know that he looks up to you, respects you.

So perhaps you might have some influence with him.

About what?

I was hoping that you might be

able to persuade him not to write this book of his.

Oh, Emily, I’m afraid I can’t do that.

Jessica, Margaret Babbington wasn’t just my cousin.

She was my very best friend.

I loved her dearly.

The incident was tragedy enough

and then all those hideous front page stories and T.V.

cameras poking everywhere.

Hasn’t poor Margaret suffered enough?

This book will drag her memory through that all over again.

Why would anyone want to do that?

It serves no useful purpose.

Emily, I’ve known Randy for over ten years.

He’s a very determined, stubborn,

obsessed with finding the truth.

He’s a born reporter,

but I don’t believe he has a malicious bone in his body.

Then why?

All I know is that he wouldn’t be doing this

unless there was something very important at stake.

You’re assuming the worst.

But, Emily, isn’t it possible that he might be

on to something that could clear Margaret’s name?

No, no good ever came out of what happened that day,

no good ever will.

Perhaps if you sat down with Randy, Emily,

and you could talk about all of this.

He’s been asking to see me, but I’ve refused.

I’ve gotten quite used to being alone.

I don’t feel comfortable with visitors.

In fact, I never see anyone anymore, except Janet.

Oh, I thought I saw George Latimer

leaving just as I arrived.

Oh, yes, George,

he just came to talk about the fundraising.

George was a good friend of Margaret’s too, wasn’t he?

Yes, Margaret,

George, Owen, we were all so close.

You’re right, Jessica.

Perhaps I should see this young man after all.

How’s it going?

Ah, just fine, Arnold, thanks.

You know, everyone in town’s

talking about you and your book.

Even money says it’s gonna be a bestseller.

Well, I think, I should write it first and then we’ll see.

Something else, Arnold?

You know, I was just remembering

how we would take all those writing classes together.

You know, we’d always share notes

and talk about how we were both gonna make it big time

and you went off to Portland

to become a hotshot reporter while I--

Well, you know...

Arnold, we earn our big breaks and this is mine.

Yours will come, huh?

Yeah.

Hello, Arnold.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.

Is something wrong?

Not a thing, Mrs. Fletcher.

Not an ever-loving thing.

Hello, Randy.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

Why didn’t you tell me that writing a book was this tough?

I know just how you feel.

Is everything else all right?

Yeah.

No.

I don’t know.

Well, I guess that just about covers it.

It’s just this hasn’t been much of a home coming.

I mean, every one’s either mad at me or won’t talk to me.

And now Arnold’s got his nose out of joint

because I won’t let him co-write the book with me.

Well, I’m sure you realize how many feathers

you’re ruffling in town with your book.

Yeah, I know.

But that doesn’t bother me.

I don’t care how many people line up against me.

Mrs. Fletcher, you’re the best teacher I ever had.

And the most important thing that you ever taught me

is that once you uncover a truth

that’s been hidden away

you have to keep chasing it no matter what.

Something terribly wrong happened here 30 years ago

and I’ve almost got it nailed.

Just a few more pieces and I’ve got it all tied up.

Randy, just remember the truth is rarely popular.

In fact, sometimes it’s downright dangerous.

Be fair, be accurate

and above all, be careful.

Neal, what I can do for you?

Well, you can ask me in for starters.

Thanks.

Forget it.

Please, no phony nice-to-see-you, okay.

I don’t like you, you don’t like me,

not in grade school, not in high school, not now.

What do you want?

I heard about the argument you had with my father.

I came to try to smooth things out.

I’m sorry if he came on too strong.

And I’d like to ask you to think about

what he said and reconsider.

Reconsider?

Nothing good is gonna come of this book, Randall.

You’re only gonna make a lot of enemies,

a lot of powerful enemies.

Nothing ever changes, does it?

All grown up and still running errands for your father.

I’m trying to do you a favor

but you’re too pig-headed to see it.

If you’re smart, you’ll get on the next plane and go back to Portland,

because after that all bets are off.

That suits me right down to the ground, Neal.

That’s funny, the door is open.

Randy said he’d lock up when he finished last night.

Well, he told me I should meet him here first thing.

Maybe he got here early.

Maybe he just forgot to lock up.

Randy, you here?

I just heard.

Oh, my Lord, how did this happen?

That’s what we’re trying to find out.

We found him like that a half an hour ago.

What was the cause of death?

Blows to the head by the look of it.

I’d say with a blunt instrument.

Well, I’d better see what’s taking the coroner so long.

You know, Randy had a big heavy paperweight.

I saw it here the other day.

Andy, check around for a large paperweight.

See if you guys can find it.

Are you all right, Sally?

I’m okay, I guess.

Oh, it’s very upsetting.

We just came in and there he was.

I know.

You were just coming to open up, right, Arnold?

What about you, Sally?

Why were you here so early?

Randy had been pestering me to see him.

I agreed and he told me to meet him here at the library.

What did he want to see you about?

I don’t know.

He was always coming onto me asking personal questions.

I thought it was just another way

for a guy to come onto a girl.

Early morning in the public library,

hardly seems the place for romantic overtures.

I mean, there must have been some other reason.

So, Arnold, what about you?

Now you said you left last night at 7:00 as usual

and the deceased was still alive.

Yeah, that’s right.

Randy had a habit of working at odd hours.

So I just asked him to lock up.

Where did you go after you left?

Wait, you don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you?

Right now I’m asking questions.

Where did you go?

Well, I went home alone as usual.

Look, I couldn’t have done it, Randy was my friend.

And I didn’t have a reason.

It’s curious, you know,

Randy’s research notes don’t seem to be here.

That’s impossible.

Randy always kept everything with him

in that briefcase he always carried around.

Well, that’s not here either.

Any idea what might have been in those notes?

Well, I don’t know.

I assumed it had something to do with his book.

Which gives us two possibilities.

Someone who wanted to stop that book from being written

or write it himself.

Sheriff,

take a look at this key.

I think you ought to see this.

Let’s see if we can get some prints off of it.

I’ll try, sheriff, but it’s pretty smudged

from where he was laying on it.

We’ll try anyway.

Arnold, is this the library key?

Oh, no, no, I’ve never seen that key before.

I wonder what it opens.

Well, assuming it fell out of the victim’s pocket

it might be his room key.

Oh, yes, that is an obvious assumption.

Well, there’s one way to find out.

Let’s get it dusted.

We weren’t able to find any prints on this.

But I think we’ll get lucky.

No.

Stand back, Mrs. F.

Hold it right there.

Neal.

Well, Mrs. F., you were wondering

what happened to those research notes.

I think we just found a link.

Oh, Sally.

I’m sorry for coming over here

like this without calling first.

But I’m really worried, Mrs. Fletcher, and I need your help.

Oh, come inside, dear.

The sheriff’s trying to find evidence

to tie Neal to Randy’s murder.

You know, Neal and I,

we’ve had our ups and downs but I love him

and I know he could never hurt anyone.

Please, Mrs. Fletcher, isn’t there anything we can do?

Well, we can certainly try

not only for you and Neal but also for Randy.

Sit down.

You know, when Randy was my student

I always encouraged him to follow the truth.

But I’m afraid I have reason to believe

that the truth that he’d found is what killed him.

But Randy wasn’t only my student,

he was my friend and something will be done about it.

But where do we start?

With you.

Now you said that he wanted to see and talk to you

about some personal things.

What kind of personal things?

Oh, nothing important.

Just stuff about me growing up in Portland.

And I didn’t want to talk about it,

not with Randy or anyone else.

It’s not that interesting growing up in an orphanage.

Not that special either.

The first time in my life I ever remember being happy

was when I was adopted by the Bates.

And I moved here to Cabot Cove when I was ten.

Did he ask you anything particular?

Not really.

He just wanted to know everything about my early days in Portland

and to take a look at some of my personal stuff,

papers, pictures, things like that.

Sally, could you bring some of those

personal papers here to me?

I take it the bail money arrived in time.

It did. Thanks.

Are you gonna tell me

why you were searching that guy’s room?

I think I have a pretty good idea.

You were trying to protect me, weren’t you?

No.

Neal, all these years you’ve never lied to me.

All right.

Okay, yes.

Look, I didn’t know what kind of secrets

Randy had dug up for that book of his,

but I didn’t want it to hurt you.

You were willing to go to jail to protect me.

I never told you the full story of what happened

that day 30 years ago.

I guess it’s about time I did.

You don’t have to, dad.

No, no, no, I want to.

We were all very close,

Emily and Margaret and Owen and me.

We used to go everywhere together,

do everything together, just the four of us.

One afternoon

we were out in the woods, north of town, bird hunting.

We became separated.

I went off to find margaret and Owen. I didn’t see them at first.

I could hear their voices raised in anger.

When I finally located them I made the mistake of thinking

it was just another lovers’ quarrel.

I didn’t want to intrude.

I love you. You love me.

I heard Owen insisting

that their relationship was over.

And something started to happen to Margaret.

A craziness I’d never seen before.

She was begging him not to leave her.

And then suddenly I saw her love turned to hatred

and then to fury.

She picked up Owen’s shotgun.

Owen!

No!

The horror of what she’d done completely unhinged her.

By the time I got her back to Emily, she was gone.

She’d retreated into some dark corner of her mind

and she never came out again.

I lied at the inquest. I said it was an accident.

That she’d been loading the gun when it went off.

Margaret was totally insane by that time,

not even able to stand trial.

It was better left that way.

I tried to get Randall Sloan to forget about his book

because I didn’t want the memory

of a dear friend dragged through the dirt again.

And that is the truth,

all of it.

I didn’t have anything to do

with Owen Cooper’s death 30 years ago

and I didn’t have anything to do with Sloan’s death now.

All right, Jess, what is it?

I can practically see the wheels turning.

Listen, Seth, you said yourself

that there was always talk

that Margaret Babbington’s accident was more than that,

that she killed Owen in a lovers’ argument.

Yes, I’ve heard that all along, nothing new there.

Except-- Except that the one question

that she was never able to answer was why.

I mean, what would prompt a woman

to kill the man that she loved?

Maybe he was trying to break up with her.

Perhaps, but she’d gone through other relationships.

No, there was something different at work here,

some reason that made her react

with such anger and fear.

Hmm.

Good pie, Jess.

Operator.

Yes, operator.

I want a phone number in Portland.

It’s the Cumberland County Sanatorium please.

Administration, Bailey.

Hello, Mr. Bailey, my name is Jessica Fletcher and--

J.B. Fletcher?

The writer from Cabot Cove?

Yes.

Well, what I can do for you?

I was wondering if you could possibly

check the sanatorium’s records for say 30 years back.

A Margaret Babbington died while she was a patient there.

Could you tell me what was the cause of death?

I will check.

We just put all those records on microfilm.

Two seconds.

Seth.

Yes, thank you very much, Mr. Bailey.

You’ve been very helpful.

So?

Seth, Margaret Babbington died in childbirth.

There was a baby.

That’s what Randy found out.

That’s why he was killed.

Good heavens, do you know what this means?

You knew, didn’t you, Emily?

You are Margaret’s cousin as well as her best friend.

You knew she was pregnant,

you knew that Owen Cooper was the father,

you knew that’s what they were fighting about

and you knew that’s why Margaret killed him.

And you also knew that Margaret died

in the sanatorium in childbirth.

And you kept that a secret too.

Yes.

It was an act of kindness and compassion.

I loved Margaret.

I didn’t want her child to live

with the stigma of a mother’s crime.

So I made sure that the record of birth was kept secret.

Surely, you can’t think that I killed him.

You said that Randy wanted to see you

and he came to the house, didn’t he?

Yes, he came on the same night that he was murdered.

I didn’t want that book written.

And I couldn’t bear the thought of Margaret’s

memory being dragged through all that dirt all over again.

I offered him a check of $100,000

if he would just go away and forget the whole thing,

but he refused.

I hated him for that,

but I didn’t kill him.

You do believe me, don’t you?

As it happens, Emily, yes, yes, I do believe you.

From what I saw at the scene,

whoever it was who killed Randy

was quick and athletic and very strong.

All that pain, all those lies

now seems they’ve all come home to roost.

I’m afraid I can’t offer you any milk today.

Janet forgot to bring some

when she stopped by on Thursday.

Thursday?

Oh, no matter, Emily.

I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to stay for tea today.

There’s somebody that I have to see.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

What are you doing here?

Waiting for you.

Me? Why?

Because I know now who killed Randy Sloan.

You don’t mean me?

Come on, why would I...?

Because of the secret that Randy discovered

during his research.

I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re talking about.

So if you don’t mind--

Randy went to see your mother

the night that he was murdered on Thursday night,

the same night that you stopped by her house for dinner each week.

$100,000 sure is a lot of money.

But I’m afraid there’s no deal.

That’s probably more money

than you’ve ever seen at one time in your entire life.

You’re a very foolish young man.

You’re probably right,

but that doesn’t change anything.

Something terribly wrong happened here

and I’m gonna make sure that it’s made right.

Margaret Babbington was pregnant

when she was committed to that sanatorium.

The child was put up for adoption

and all the records were sealed.

Well, I’ve cut through all those sealed records

and I know who that child is.

Who knows this besides you?

No one, I haven’t told anyone yet.

Good.

And I don’t want you to.

Here, take this and I’ll double it.

$200,000.

$300,000.

Mrs. Weymouth, you don’t have enough money.

If you’ll excuse me.

All right, so I overheard a conversation

between Randy and my mother.

So what?

This book of Randy’s had nothing to do with me.

I hardly knew Randy.

I had no reason to kill him.

I think you had a very good reason.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher,

this conversation is getting a little tiresome.

Whatever it is you think you’ve come up with

you’ll never be able to prove anything, anything.

I think I can.

May I?

This is your apartment and your key.

This key was found under Randy’s body.

It could’ve only been accidentally

dropped there by his killer.

After overhearing Randy’s conversation with your mother,

you followed him back here to the library, didn’t you?

Yes.

I just wanted to talk some sense to him,

but he wouldn’t listen.

Every dime I have

it’s from the Babbington side of the family.

If word had gotten out that Margaret had a child

we’d have lost the entire inheritance, we’d be ruined.

I offered him everything, anything.

But he refused.

Yes.

And then?

Then I...

And then I--

It was as if I’d lost touch with reality.

My head was swimming.

All I could feel was a terrible hatred for him

and for what he was doing to me and to my family.

I didn’t know what I was doing.

I just knew I was terrified of losing everything

and I couldn’t let that happen.

I just couldn’t.

And that was the secret that Randy discovered

that you were Margaret Babbington’s daughter

and thus inherited her entire estate.

Your story was going to be the center piece of his book.

I still can’t believe it.

I mean, all that land and the estate,

it must be worth over a million dollars.

Or more like three.

No more doing two jobs to go to night school either.

Oh, right.

I imagine that you and Neal have some catching up to do.

Oh, but his father--

Has come a long way in a very short time.

Run along.

That looks like one Cabot Cove romance

that will be resuming.

Yes.

It’s funny, you know,

when Randy was my student

I taught him that whatever

the literary establishment may think,

the best stories always have happy endings.

And I think he got it.

Oh, yeah.