All language subtitles for MrSWr906

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

They say it’s haunted up there.

People have claimed they’ve seen skinwalkers.

Skinwalkers?

Witches.

Does anyone know how much Cutter stole from the stagecoach?

Whatever it is, it’s probably worth millions.

Max, you know, it’s not over.

Silverville is still a big attraction.

It’s none of your business, all right?

Max was after the stolen treasure.

Be careful, Mrs. Fletcher.

Fortune fever is real contagious.

I wanted to kill him last night.

You’re fired.

Whoa! Whoa!

All right, hand over the box real slow.

Damn you, Cutter McGee!

Oh, I can’t believe that poor man

has to do that twice a day.

You’ve just witnessed the last stage robbery

in New Mexico, pulled in 1898 by Cutter McGee.

Cutter lived most of his life at sea,

and after this holdup, Navajo Indians stole his pony

and he was captured by the posse.

And the fortune he stole that day has never been recovered.

Don’t forget the Cutter McGee museum

at the end of the street.

It’s well worth the price of admission.

Come on, I want you to meet Max. Okay?

Max, this is Jessica Fletcher.

- Jessica, Max Teller. - How do you do, Mr. Teller?

Mrs. Fletcher, Susan told me you were coming.

Welcome to Silverville.

- Thank you. - How’d you like the show?

Oh, it was very entertaining.

You know, this is a fascinating old town.

When was it abandoned?

In 1905 the old silver mine was tapped out

and the town was practically deserted overnight.

The whole story is in the museum. Have you seen it yet?

No, we’re on our way over there.

Excuse me, Mr. Teller.

The axle’s broken again.

Could you check for Matt

and get him out here to fix it before tomorrow.

All right, Earl.

I’ll have it for you when he gets here.

Excuse me, that was a very impressive fall.

Thank you, ma’am.

Max,

Ben Judson is waiting for you.

God, that’s right. Thanks, Betty.

Don’t you forget you’re having dinner with us tonight.

Oh, I’ll be there, promise.

Sorry to keep you.

Oh, no problem, I know business can be unpredictable.

Look, you guys gave me three months

to catch up on my loan. Now what do you want?

Max, I’m not here for the bank.

I have a personal proposition for you.

Personal?

Well, go on, Judson.

I want to buy Silverville.

- It’s not for sale. - Now, look, Max.

It’s only a matter of time before we--

Before the bank has to foreclose.

This way, at least you get some equity out of the place.

You default and those FDIC bloodhounds

will be sniffing around again.

Don’t you worry, that’s not gonna happen.

Well, you do yourself a favor.

You think about it.

I thought vultures wait until you’re dead

before they start picking your bones.

I want to get this place, Teller.

You know, your work has taken

on a whole new dimension

since you moved out here, Susan.

The desert does things for me, Jess.

Every day, I see it for the first time.

Light changes, the sky moves.

God knows what it is, but it has,

it’s given me a whole new perspective.

You’ll like the one I brought last year

in Santa Fe, Mrs. Fletcher.

Alamo Canyon at Dusk.

Charles was my first sale in New Mexico,

- told me I was in the right place. - Really?

Uh-oh, something is telling me the lasagna is ready.

- Will you guys excuse me? - Mmm-hmm.

Max was telling me that you’re writing a book about

the silver strike here

and doing research at the museum.

It’s a dry historical treatise.

It’s hardly a best seller.

Oh, don’t be so sure about that.

No, no, no.

Do you live here in Chaco Springs, Mr. Strickland?

I wish.

No, most of the time I’m in Albuquerque teaching at the university.

Oh, hello, Max.

Ah, now, here is the man with more raw data

on Cutter McGee than anyone else in this country.

You just make sure your book makes Silverville famous.

We’ll have tourists flooding in here in search of treasure.

Me, I’m in search of dinner.

You know, I noticed that Cutter never lost his seafaring ways.

In the museum, his sextant and chronometer

and all of his charts were in perfect condition.

He used to use them to find his way around the desert.

A word to the wise, Mrs. Fletcher.

Don’t get Max started on his lost treasure scam.

It sells tickets, but that’s about it.

So, what do you think of him?

I assume you mean Max.

Oh, was I that obvious?

Well, if you mean the way your eyes never left him, yes.

Yes, I think he’s very charming.

Well, you know, after the divorce

I swore I would never get involved again.

Love’s sneaky like that.

It blindsides you just when you don’t want it

and you think you don’t need it.

Nice setup you’ve got here.

Tony, what the hell are you doing here?

I came to see you.

Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.

We can shoot the breeze about the good old days.

Look, I’m real busy right now.

How about the next time you’re coming through?

How about right now?

Four years, Maxie, not even a birthday card?

Tony, you made your own trouble.

You almost took me down with you.

What the hell do you want?

My share of what was in that offshore account.

I don’t owe you a thing.

Maybe you need some time to think about it.

That’s okay. I know all about time.

Forget about the cops, though.

I’m clean now, they can’t touch me.

Now, you, on the other hand,

I’m sure a lot of folks would be

real interested to hear

how you got the money to buy this place.

Oh, I can’t believe I lost my pen.

- Oh. - You know, it was my favorite,

I’ve had it for years.

I know how you feel. I’m the same way about my brushes.

Well, we’ll check the museum,

maybe somebody found it.

Oh, I hope so.

You know, it’s amazing to me

that anything can grow around here.

There are some plants out here on Navajo land

that you won’t find anywhere else.

Sounds promising.

I’m going to take a walk down there.

You’ll find a lot of magic out there.

And a very good day to you, too.

All that brush.

Quite eerie, the way it echoes up here, isn’t it?

Yes, yes, it is.

Hear it at night, and you’ll know

why the Shamans believe that the spirit of coyote

brings evil into the world.

They say he’s always lurking,

ready to strike at the unwary.

Sam Keeyani, pleased to meet you.

Jessica Fletcher.

How do you do, Mr. Keeyani?

Just Sam.

You picked a nice place for a walk.

It’s Coyote Canyon.

It gets a little further up, though.

There’s a lot of loose rocks.

In other words, I shouldn’t go any further.

That’s smart. It gets dark quickly up here.

They say it’s haunted up there.

People have claimed they’ve seen skinwalkers.

Skinwalkers?

Witches.

Not that I believe in the old superstitions.

It’s just that, sometimes you see things in the shadows

that you can’t quite make out.

You want to see me, Mr. Teller?

Yes, Earl.

I’ve been checking the hay delivery,

and looks like you’ve shorted us.

Oh, yeah?

Your petty cash slip says 50 bales.

There’s only 30 out there.

Yeah, well, Carlos called

and said his regular truck was in the shop.

He’s gonna bring out the rest in the morning.

Is that so?

Look, I called the feed company

and got your orders from last year.

Every time you put in for more than they delivered.

I must have screwed up, you know.

I never was much at math.

Bull, you’ve been deliberately shorting my orders

and selling the balance on the side.

Now, get out of here, you’re fired.

Yeah, well, big deal. This job sucks anyway.

Just give me my pay and I’m gone.

Forget it.

You’re not getting another dime out of me.

I want what’s coming to me.

Yeah?

Or what?

Max.

Max, are you all right?

Yeah, I’m okay. Nobody hurt, thank God.

This is terrible.

Did you manage to save anything?

We haven’t been inside yet,

but I doubt if there’s much left of the collections.

Well, good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.

Nice to see you again.

Well, thank you, sheriff Keeyani.

That’s still just Sam. Excuse me.

Would you all just step back, please?

It’s arson.

Get me some samples for the lab.

Sheriff, it could have been electrical.

I’ve been meaning to rewire this place.

Make any enemies lately, Mr. Teller?

- You hear what I said? - Now, just think about it.

Someone doesn’t like you a whole lot.

I fired Earl yesterday.

No, it wasn’t Earl.

How the hell do you know that?

Look, don’t give me any double talk.

If it is arson, talk to Earl.

Mr. Teller, we’ll give it our full attention.

That includes what Earl was up to last night,

except I don’t think that’s your problem.

Now, you think about it.

Maybe you’ll come up with something that’ll help.

I’ll be in my office.

I’d better go with him.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher, I guess you’ll need a ride back to town.

Thank you, sheriff.

I promise you the best cup of coffee in Chaco Springs.

Would you like chocolate or cinnamon on top?

Oh, nothing, thanks.

Here you go.

Thank you.

If you tasted that sludge they serve down at the diner,

you’ll know why I got this monster.

Oh, that is delicious.

Well, thank you.

If you don’t mind my saying so,

you have a rather curious way about you, sheriff.

Yeah? How’s that?

Well, this morning in Silverville

you put on an Oscar-winning performance,

allowing people to think you were getting

your answers from divine inspiration.

I suspect there was a simpler explanation.

Go on.

When you looked up at the sky, apparently in a trance,

you were smelling the air.

I noticed the faint odor of gasoline.

And then, when you let the dirt dribble

through your fingers,

you wanted to see in fact if the wind

was coming from the burned-out building.

Am I mistaken?

Well, I guess I’ll be a little more careful next time

I run into an innocent-looking tourist

in the desert.

What about my missing pen suddenly appearing like that?

Oh, somebody found that in front of the museum,

they turned it in.

I figured who else in town would own an expensive pen

like that except a writer.

The way I did it, just a little more fun.

But on a case, I’m not just fooling around.

If a suspect has no idea what I’m doing,

he’s liable to assume that I know more than I do.

And that’s when he makes his mistake, right?

Yeah.

But what I don’t understand is,

how could you be so sure that Earl didn’t do it?

When I was a kid on the rez,

we all learned how to read tracks.

I’d have rather learned how to ride a bike,

but we couldn’t afford one.

Anyway, the tracks in front of the museum

this morning were kind of messed up,

but I did find a partial imprint of a gasoline can.

Further up the street it was clearer,

and I found tracks heading towards a building

deeper on one side than the other.

Possibly from carrying a heavy object

like a full can of gas?

You got it.

And on the other side, the same tracks running away,

only evenly weighted.

I see.

But why do you discount Earl?

Well, in all the years that I’ve known him,

Earl’s always worn boots.

These were sneakers about size ten.

And it’s doubtful that he’d have changed

his shoes to fool you.

Exactly.

Max, you know, it’s not over.

Silverville is still a big attraction.

You and I could rebuild the museum together.

I mean, you know I can help.

I don’t need your money.

There’s a lot more to Cutter McGee than

hitting up tourists for ten bucks a head.

What is it, Max?

Please, please, don’t shut me out.

Look, there are just some things

that I have to keep to myself for now, Susan, all right?

No, no, it’s not all right.

Damn it, Max,

I’ve shared everything with you,

and there’s still a large part of your life

that you are not letting me into.

It’s none of your business.

Okay, fine.

And whatever it is, you can keep it,

because I’m not interested anymore.

Damn.

Hi, there, Alice.

- Hello, sheriff. - Please, just Sam.

- So, how’s your car running? - Fine, and yours?

So, when are you going to take me up

for that offer for dinner?

One of these days. I’ll let you know.

I chased her for five miles on the interstate doing 90,

let her off with a warning.

I’ve never done that before.

She’s very pretty.

I found out she works over at the Mayor’s office

so I made sure they send her over for any paperwork.

It’s just a matter of time.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Sheriff, I thought this might be useful.

Oh, from the museum?

Yes, it’s an inventory I was working on.

It’s got all the items that were out on display,

but there were several boxes in the back

I hadn’t even opened yet.

I understand the Smithsonian has the same problem.

Thanks, I’ll check it out.

I hope this doesn’t give you

the wrong opinion of New Mexico.

This morning’s disaster is not a good introduction.

I’d like to correct that, if you have some time.

Well, a little, until Susan gets back.

Well, good, I’ll drive you back to her place.

And on the way, it’ll be

the Charles Strickland historical scenic drive.

- What do you say? - I’d love it.

Well, if it ain’t Tonto.

- Son of a-- - That’s sheriff Tonto to you.

Dumb horse. Hold still!

I want to talk to you about last night.

What, you’ve heard about it?

The whole town is talking about it.

Yeah, well, he had it coming.

What’d he do, go and file a complaint?

Earl, before you say anything else,

I’m gonna have to read you your rights.

Oh, come on, sheriff.

So I punched a guy out. Ain’t no federal case.

Punched who?

Chuck Warren, down at the Broken Horseshoe.

Jerk was giving me a hard time.

He shouldn’t have done that,

not after I’d just been canned, so I popped him.

What time did you leave?

Don’t know, 2:00 maybe.

Did you go to Silverville last night?

No, why?

Someone burnt down Max’s museum.

Well, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

Look, there’s about 20 guys that can tell you

I was at the Horseshoe all night.

If you think I did it, you’re wasting your time.

Yeah, I guess so.

That’s nice war paint, chief.

Max?

Are you in there?

I appreciate your coming here, sheriff,

but I don’t know what Max’s death has to do with me.

You were close friends.

I thought maybe you might have been with him last night.

We’ll, we’ve gone out a few times, that’s all.

Sheriff, losing a friend can be very difficult,

let alone under these kinds of circumstances.

Yes, of course, you’re right.

Do you know what time he was killed?

Somewhere between 8:00 and 10:00 as far as we can tell.

Will you excuse me, please? I have work to do.

Will you excuse me, sheriff?

Susan.

I wanted to kill him last night.

I thought something had happened between you.

After the fire, I offered to help him out financially.

He seemed to think he was going

to get a big windfall from Cutter McGee.

He actually resented my offer.

I was furious.

And you didn’t see him again after that?

Yes, later, a lot later.

I began to think that I was foolish and...

I went by the office about 8:00,

and he was there with Betty,

that secretary of his.

He was all over her.

Oh, no.

Oh, I’m so sorry.

They didn’t see me, I just left.

I was so angry and confused and hurt,

I couldn’t even talk to you when I got home.

But I didn’t kill him, Jess.

Did you touch anything when you came in

and found the body this morning?

No, I ran right out and I called you from in there.

Well, it looks like he had company.

We’ll check those for prints.

What time did you leave last night?

I usually leave around 6:00.

First mistake. That’s not what I asked you.

So, why did you stay late?

I didn’t say that.

You didn’t have to.

It’s best to tell the truth.

Max was in a lousy mood all day,

what with the fire and all.

I was ready to go home when he asked if I’d stay,

so we had a couple of drinks.

He was telling me about

how he was going to make a fortune.

Next thing we ended up, you know.

Nothing like that ever happened before.

He was still alive when you left him?

About 8:30, he said he had to meet someone and he left the office.

I went home.

Do you know who he was meeting?

No.

But a couple of days ago, Ben Judson told Max

he wanted to buy this place.

Max said no.

Maybe after the fire, he changed his mind.

Sheriff, a call just came in.

Some guy’s been picked up driving Max Teller’s car.

What were you doing with Max Teller’s car, Mr. Sable?

I was sightseeing.

Hey, come on.

So I was parked in the red zone, what’s the big deal?

They just let you out of jail in Los Angeles.

Now, that’s a long way from Chaco Springs.

Max Teller was murdered last night.

Now, what were you doing driving his car?

If I’d killed him, you think I’d be hanging around here driving his car?

Okay, look, Max and me,

we had a mail order business out in California.

It wasn’t doing very much until

I started milking the customers’

credit cards for cash

and putting the money offshore.

When Max found out about it, he went to the DA,

turned state’s evidence, and I got the four years.

And what about the stolen money?

Max turned over some of it to throw them off,

but he conveniently forgot to tell the DA

about the offshore account.

When I got out, the money was gone.

I figured that Max used most of it to buy Silverville.

Did you arrange to meet him last night?

No.

No, the last time I saw Max was yesterday afternoon.

He wanted to buy me off.

He said he had some money coming in.

Hey, look, he was my meal ticket.

I wasn’t about to kill him.

That’s all for now, Mr. Sable.

You’re free to go...

but stick around until you hear from me.

I’ve met rattlers I like better than him.

I just don’t have enough to hold him,

at least not till he sheds his skin.

He’s the third person that Max told

that he had money coming in.

Well, maybe he decided to sell the place after all.

Perhaps, but he mentioned to Susan

that it was coming through Cutter McGee.

I wonder if it’s possible

that Max was after the stolen treasure.

Be careful, Mrs. Fletcher.

Fortune fever is real contagious.

Well, I’m going to see

what I can find out about Cutter McGee in the library.

Do you believe people can meet in dreams,

Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I like to keep an open mind.

Why?

Well, my uncle Ashie, he made me promise

that I’d bring you to see him.

He says you visited him many times before.

I don’t recall having met him, not even in a dream,

but with this kind of setup, how can I say no?

Oh, it’s Alice, isn’t it?

- Sheriff Keeyani’s friend. - Yes, Alice Chee.

There’s no need to introduce yourself, Mrs. Fletcher.

The mayor is very excited about you visiting Chaco Springs.

Thank you.

Oh, are you interested in drawing?

Yes, I am. VI’m taking a life drawing course in Santa Fe.

Well, I have to run, I’ll be late back from lunch.

It was great meeting you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Excuse me, there seems to be some editions

from the Silverville advocate that are missing

from the year 1898.

I wonder if you could help me.

Nope.

It’s already been reported by Mr. Strickland.

There’s nothing I can do,

probably the only copies in existence.

You wouldn’t happen to have any other material about

Silverville from that period?

Two photographs of the town marshal on horseback,

six bills of lading for hay feed,

a postcard from Roger in Atlantic City

to his cousin Lucille saying,

"The water is fine, come on out," and that.

Worthless, company went out of business in 1905.

That’s all we got.

Well, thank you very much.

Mrs. Fletcher, hello again. What are you doing here?

Well, I’m just trying to find out

more about Cutter McGee.

Oh, well, I think I can help you.

Will you two shush?

Here.

Let me see.

Oh, just a minute.

I have the only known photo of Cutter McGee,

probably taken about 1896.

What a character, and he really wore that cap.

I thought that Max was taking liberties out there in Silverville.

No, no. I showed him that.

You know, I’m going to miss Max.

We got to know each other pretty well going through

his old material.

Tell me, does anyone know

how much Cutter stole from the stagecoach?

No, no. That’s still the big mystery.

I’ve heard everything from gold

bullion to bags of silver dollars.

Whatever it is, it’s probably worth millions by now.

Good morning, sheriff. Have a seat.

Do you want a cup of coffee?

No, thanks. I won’t take up much of your time.

Oh, that’s all right.

We don’t see each other that often.

I’ve been meaning to tell you

that when the council voted on your appointment,

I campaigned to stop it.

Yes, yes, I did.

But times have changed and we have to change with them.

Though, when my great-granddaddy moved West,

he was attacked twice by Indians, and--

I guess we have something in common, then,

seeing as my great-grandma was murdered

by a bunch of boozed-up white settlers.

Yes, well.

What I mean to say is, I don’t remember

when the department was run better,

and, well, the Chamber of Commerce

will give you its full support

when your contract is up for renewal.

I appreciate that, Mr. Judson.

Now, what can I do for you?

I expect you heard about Max Teller’s death this morning.

Yes, yes, I did. We will miss him.

I understand you tried to buy Silverville from him.

The land comes with water rights.

I needed them to expand my herd.

And, of course, there’s no conflict

with you running the bank.

Conflict? Hell.

Max would have gotten his money out

before the bank foreclosed

and the bank would have avoided another default.

And you’d have gotten the water,

only he didn’t want to sell.

If you think I killed Max to get Silverville, you’re crazy.

I see.

You’ve frozen Mr. Teller’s accounts.

His personal and his commercial accounts,

also a safety deposit box.

I’ll send a deputy over for the box.

Thank you for your time.

Tell me, what exactly

did your uncle mean about meeting me before?

Well, he wasn’t too clear.

See, he operates on a different wavelength

than everybody else.

He’s a Shaman.

That’s a healer, isn’t it?

Oh, they’re more than healers,

they’re spiritual leaders,

keepers of the tribe’s oral history.

Some of Ashie’s stories go back centuries.

Well, I’m definitely looking forward to meeting him,

assuming that we haven’t already met.

Here we are.

He’s happy that you’re visiting him again.

I’m happy to be here.

He wants to repay you for your time together.

Is there anything he can do?

I recently heard a story about a white man

who was captured after losing his horse to the Navajos.

That was about 90 years ago.

Do you recall any stories from that time?

There was a man from his grandfather’s clan

who had fallen sick, and the Shaman

wanted to protect him from the curse,

so they went out and gathered rabbit brush to burn

for ash to put on this man

to hide him from the evil spirits.

While they were gathering this,

they saw a bilagaana, a white man.

He was alone, so they chased him,

but he hid in the rocks

and was protected by the enemy spirits.

After two days, the bilagaana came out for water.

They gave him some, but they kept his horse.

This white man was touched

by the spirit of coyote, the trickster,

and he was killed by his own people.

Fascinating.

Please thank your uncle for me.

Is there anything that I can do?

In my many visits with you through your books,

I have enjoyed many hours of pleasure.

I ask only one thing,

you sign "to my good friend Ashie."

With great pleasure.

To be a Shaman, one must have good friends in high places.

- Hi, Jess. - Hi.

You want some tea?

Oh, yes. I’d love some tea.

Oh, can you see anything interesting in the flames?

I was just thinking about Max.

- Cream? - No, thanks.

I feel like I’ve been on a roller coaster the last couple of days.

I’m not surprised.

This is the first time

that I have let myself feel this way

about a man since Roger.

That’s a while back.

I didn’t feel like I could ever go through this again, Jess.

And the prospect of losing someone as close as that...

and then along come the voices.

"You should be married, you need a man."

I know, I know, play the conventional woman’s role.

Well, it seems to me that you’ve done all right.

I mean, you’ve built your own business.

You did it all on your own.

I know, it’s silly.

There’s a part of me that wants to believe

I can be completely independent.

And from what I can see, you already are.

You know, since I’ve been alone,

I’ve done things, I’ve been places

that I never would have dreamed of.

More than anybody I know.

I often wish that Frank and I could have shared it together.

Still, I’ve been lucky.

I’ve had lots of wonderful friends along the way.

So have I.

So have I.

Traces of sand were found in the bullet wound

and in the hair.

You know, it looks to me

as if Max was killed somewhere else

and then moved into his office.

You got it.

Here, we found this in his safe deposit box.

The only prints on it are Max’s.

- May I? - Go ahead.

Theodore McGee, as in Cutter McGee?

The same. The last entry is on the day before

he robbed the Silverville stage.

You’d think this would have been

on display in the museum.

Then why did he lock it up?

Maybe Max really was after the stolen money,

and this told him where it was.

Remember what I said about fortune fever.

Anyway, it ends before he even stole it.

Unless...

That’s it.

It’s right here in the front of the book.

We’ve got to go to the library.

Why?

Because, unless my guess is wrong,

this will not only tell us where Max was killed,

but also where the stolen treasure is hidden.

Did we really have to come here?

I’m already six weeks overdue

on a copy of The Hunt for Red October.

Thank you.

Are you enjoying that Tom Clancy novel, sheriff?

Yes, it’s kind of thick.

It takes a while to get through.

Apparently.

Now, Charles Strickland told me

that McGee used his sextant to navigate in the desert,

which means that the numbers in the front of this diary

could refer to map references.

Now, like longitude and latitude.

He left out north and west designates to disguise it.

Now, let me see.

Thirty six degrees,

23 minutes North.

Hundred and nine degrees, 12 minutes West.

Well, that would put it 50 miles west of Silverville.

I don’t have enough men for that kind of search

unless we narrow it down somehow.

Well...

Rabbit brush.

Your uncle said they were collecting rabbit brush

when they found McGee?

Yes, for protection against evil.

There’s not a whole lot of places

rabbit brush grows around here.

In fact, only one that I know of.

Coyote Canyon.

There’s two sets of prints going up,

one following the other, and only one coming back down.

The ones coming back down are deeper.

Could he have been carrying something or somebody?

Like Max Teller’s body?

These sneaker prints match the arsonist’s

found out at Silverville.

They stop here.

There’s prints everywhere.

Sheriff, could that be blood?

Eddie, this is Sam. You copy?

Sure thing, sheriff.

I want a forensic team up here at Coyote Canyon asap.

I’m on it.

What did your uncle mean

when he said that McGee had the spirits

of his enemies on his side?

The anasazi, or ancient enemy,

that’s the Navajo name for the people

that lived here before we arrived.

There’s an old anasazi burial cave up there.

A traditional Navajo tries to avoid dead bodies.

In the old days, they never would have

followed them up there.

Mcgee Drew a skull and crossbones.

Maybe we just might use it to catch the killer.

I thought you’d want to get this back as soon as possible.

Thank you, sheriff.

I’ll just need you to sign a receipt.

A’ight.

Charles Strickland, please.

Hello?

Mr. Strickland? This is Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, hi.

How’s the research going?

Well, better than I’d hoped, actually.

The police gave me access

to Max Teller’s safe deposit box.

Yeah? What was inside it?

Cutter McGee’s diary,

but what I really wanted to tell you

was that I think I know exactly

where McGee hid the stolen strongbox.

Well, I thought perhaps we could confirm it together.

Of course, where do I meet you and when?

Who is it?

Charles Strickland.

Were you expecting someone else?

Yes.

Max Teller’s killer.

I’m sorry to disappoint you.

Have you found that strongbox yet?

Yes, yes, I believe I have.

My God. You’re right.

This must be it.

Yes, I suppose you realize that the contents of this box

could make us both very rich.

I’m very much aware of that, Mrs. Fletcher.

Bonds?

Bonds?

That’s right, from a company

that went bankrupt about 90 years ago.

You killed Max Teller for these

worthless pieces of paper.

You know, you keep talking like that,

someone’s liable to take you seriously.

I can’t let that happen, Mrs. Fletcher.

Don’t do it, Strickland.

It’s over.

Deputy.

Wait, wait, wait. I have nothing to do with Max’s death.

You want to straighten him out, Mrs. Fletcher?

When we first met at Susan’s house,

you denied the existence of the stolen treasure.

I found it out that later

you were speculating about its value.

Everyone was talking about it.

- So what? - But you went further.

I noticed in your briefcase a book on celestial navigation.

You told me that McGee used to navigate in the desert,

but now your interest seemed to be

more than just academic.

Today, we found sneaker prints up in the canyon

where forensics says that Max was killed.

The same prints the arsonist left in Silverville.

The same ones you’re making right now.

Yeah, but everyone wears these shoes.

Come on, this is purely circumstantial.

True enough. That’s why we arranged this charade.

Not only have you shown your willingness to kill,

but my guess is the ballistics

will match your gun with the bullet

that killed Max Teller.

You want to tell us how you got mixed up in this?

You know, when Max first let me use

Silverville for research,

he wanted to see if there was any chance

we could find this lost fortune.

I didn’t believe in it.

Then one day he showed me McGee’s diary.

Then you realized what the numbers were.

Not at first.

Later I realized that if those were map coordinates,

I could get that treasure for myself.

I knew his sextant was limited in its accuracy,

so first I got that book you saw me with,

then I stole the sextant from the museum

and then burned it down to cover the theft.

If the sextant had been the only thing missing,

it would have looked suspicious.

I was then able to recreate his reading.

And in the library I found this newspaper report

on Cutter McGee’s trial

with a description of where he was captured,

dying of thirst, and that description

matched this canyon exactly.

And you took those editions out of the library

so that no one else could follow the clue.

I started looking under cover of darkness.

It was still a big area.

Somehow Max got suspicious and followed me out here.

He accused me of a double cross,

said he was going to turn me in for burning down his place.

I panicked and shot him.

It all happened so quickly.

Then I took his body back to Silverville.

I didn’t want the police crawling all over here

finding my treasure.

Let’s go.

Just a second.

How did you know where this place was?

From the Navajo archives, oral history

from the sheriff’s uncle.

In his own way, he told us about the anasazi burial cave.

Mrs. Fletcher realized that the skull

and crossbones wasn’t a reference

to pirate’s treasure, but to the skeletons in here.

I guess dead men do tell tales after all, right, Mr. Strickland?

It’s very kind of you to ask me over.

Oh, actually, it was Jessica’s idea.

- Thank you. - She said you were an artist.

Art student, more like.

I’m taking a life drawing course.

How about you, Sam?

- Mmm. - Do you sketch?

Oh, well, you know, that’s funny.

You know, I just decided to take it up recently.

I know a very good class in Santa Fe.

Oh, Jess.

I wish you could stay for a few more days.

Well, so do I.

But if I don’t get to Cabot Cove soon,

my garden is going to be so overgrown,

I won’t be able to get in the front door.

Gonna be all right?

Yeah, I’ll be okay.

I just can’t get over the fact

that Charles Strickland committed

murder over a bunch of scrap paper.

You give him one little chance

and coyote the trickster will work his evil.

Murder for gain hardly needs a supernatural explanation.

You never know.