All language subtitles for MrSWr914

What makes you to turn to writing murder?

And I’m talking vicious, in bloody detail.

Everything from strangling to stabbing.

That lady hits harder than a linebacker on a Sunday afternoon.

Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

You're a loud-mouthed creep.

I give the word, Rule spends the rest of this Campaign

with his jaw wired shut.

There must be a lot of pressure on you

and the DA to hang somebody.

Now shut up and listen, Louise.

You can tell David Osterman for me

that this is just the beginning.

Presenting the new powerhouse in the State,

KGAB radio.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen,

gophers and livestock,

it’s 65 degrees here in bustling downtown Easton,

where the prairie skies are as empty

as our listeners’ heads.

You’re tuned to KGAB radio and this is the Rule man,

the voice of what we like to refer to as the people.

Speaking of which, Doris is on line one.

What’s on your minimal mind today, dear?

Marcus, I just want you to know

you’re the rudest, most irritating man on the radio.

Oh, thank you, Doris.

Well, I’m sure that little effort fevered

you’re already sweaty brow.

And now, the Rule man, the man with the scam,

the sham and the flimflam brings you,

yes, it’s the rumor of the day.

Rumor A, highway commissioner

slash want-to-be state senator, David Osterman,

takes clandestine midnight meeting

with well-known fat cat contractor

over at Jimmy’s landing.

Rumor B, something changes hands.

Hint. Well, that something is long, green and covered

with pictures of Ben Franklin, lots and lots of pictures.

And they all end up in David Osterman’s pockets.

News item, this morning, Mr. Fat Cat contractor

wins a contract to build the new bridge up in Indian bluff.

Awarded to him by...

All right, class, are you ready?

Yes, the ever lovable commish, David D--

Dave, he’s killing us.

You’ve already dropped eight points in the polls.

What do you think is going to happen

when they go online with their new transmitter tomorrow?

Listen, I have friends.

I give the word, Rule spends the rest of this campaign

with his jaw wired shut.

No.

I won’t stoop to that.

He’s just a mouthpiece for the station.

Dave, we’re gonna lose this thing.

Let me have someone pay a visit to Colin Crowe.

Alex, I can’t.

I just can’t.

Well, I think you’ll find KGAB radio

to be the highlight of your Midwestern tour,

- Mrs. Fletcher. - My goodness.

That was spoken like a true public relations professional, Ronna.

Oh, boy. Well, anyway, Colin,

Mr. Crowe is a very exciting man to work for.

I understand that Mr. Crowe’s wife actually

owns the station.

They’re getting a divorce.

He’s buying her out as part of the settlement.

Oh, I see.

When he married her, there wasn’t

a whole lot happening with the station.

But he came in and he took charge

and he put it in a talk format.

And today, we are number one in the county.

And when we inaugurate our new transmitter tomorrow,

we will be going for the top spot in the whole state.

My goodness, your boss certainly seems to know what he’s doing.

Oh, well, look at Marcus Rule, the Rule man.

Mr. Crowe discovered him up in Minnesota

doing ice hockey games of all things.

He brought him down here and he turned him in

to the local king of killer radio.

Ask my wife.

No, no, no, I won’t.

Do you know what just happened, you old hay kicker?

No, Sir.

You’ve been overruled.

And you’re too dumb to know it.

You know, anybody who is a fan of Mavis

is no friend of mine.

As far as I'm concerned, you can take

that Tennessee banjo

and stick it where the sun don’t shine.

Young man--

Okay, Veronica from Owl Creek.

Let’s talk about husbands and the FA words.

That’s right, people.

I’m talking about fooling around.

You know, a new study shows

that 62% of all married men have affairs.

So what we want to know, Veronica, is,

where is your husband right now?

Let’s talk about David Osterman.

He is the most decent, fear-minded man--

You hear that, people?

Mr. David Osterman’s so far down the pipe,

he’s got his loyal employees trying to pull him out.

Making money off that lunatic’s

offensive trash is one thing,

but character assassination is quite another.

We both know you don’t have a thing on David Osterman,

except that he happens to be on what you consider

the wrong political side of offense.

Can I assume this is your final statement

as majority stockholder, darling?

You can assume. I won’t let you destroy him.

Spoken like a truly about-to-be ex-wife and ex-partner.

Now, shut up and listen, Louise.

Now you can tell David Osterman for me

that this is just the beginning,

and unless he withdraws from this race,

I’m gonna see to it that he can’t show his face anywhere in this state.

Colin, don’t bet your FCC license on it.

And I’m proud to say she’s the only woman I ever slept with.

Oh, sure, Howard.

You want me to swallow that bull?

You just didn’t get caught and more power to you.

You okay?

I’ve been better.

Sure, there’s nothing I can do for you?

Thank you, Danny.

Okay, class. The subject for tomorrow is gonna be... ready?

Cheating hearts. You heard right.

And you’ll hear it here too tomorrow firsthand,

when we talk to five guys

who caught their old ladies in other men’s beds.

Well, till then,

remember you can count on the old Rule man

to bring sunshine and knowledge

into your otherwise drab, miserable lives.

Boy, I tell you. What’s-his-name was right.

Nobody ever got poor underestimating

the intelligence of the American public.

What’s for tomorrow?

Well, you got J.B. Fletcher

live in studio, open mic at 3.00.

She’s that mystery writer

on tour promoting her latest book.

Ah, in this jerk water town?

She must be desperate. Okay.

Tell Ronna to have a synopsis on my desk by noon.

It’s gonna be fun.

Writers intimidate easier than almost anybody.

Top of the stairs to the right, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank you.

At 5 o’clock, we have the cocktail party

and the dedication of the new transmitter.

Oh, thank you.

My goodness, the Mark Twain room.

That sounds lovely.

If you’re free tonight,

I would love to show you around Easton.

Well, thank you, Ronna,

but I do have an engagement for dinner.

You got that right, lady.

Jonathan, is it really you?

It is me.

How are you?

Hi, Jessica.

Hi, Ronna.

My goodness, you have come a long way from Park Avenue.

Well, you just keep reminding me

because sometimes I don’t think

I’ve come far enough.

- I didn’t know you two knew each other. - Oh, yes.

Jonathan’s father is my publisher’s lawyer

as well as being a very good friend.

Can I have ten minutes?

Okay, but don’t make it a second longer,

we got a lot to talk about.

Right. Thanks for everything, Ronna.

- Okay. - And I’ll see you tomorrow.

And that is when it hit me, right in the middle of this

achingly tedious lecture

about some foreign trade regulations.

And you walked away.

I flipped.

Or as my father would say,

"Jonathan simply was not himself."

That sounds exactly like Carter.

Well, anyway, that night I left and I hit the road

and I bummed around the country for two years.

I worked in an oil field, I’ve pulled carrots,

and I even fought a forest fire in Orick.

After I gave you XXX on the road,

you father still has never forgiven me.

Well, I’ll tell you something.

I got to see this country

the way he will never get to see it.

And I got to meet people

that the so called opinion makers

and politicians in New York, in Los Angeles

and Washington will never know that these people exist.

Why Easton? I mean, what made you decide to stay here?

I fell in love with the town.

And I got a job as a custodian in KGAB,

and then I took this correspondence course

in engineering, got my degree

and if that transmitter gets blown over by a northern,

I’m the one they’re gonna blame.

How much of this does your father know?

Not much.

I haven’t talked to him in over a year.

And I know that he’ll never forgive me.

But, God, I just--

Law school, a three-piece suit, it's...

it’s just not my style.

Now tell me something, Jessica,

did Easton just happen to be on your book tour?

No, I didn’t think so.

Well, I got to say my dad has got a hell of a friend in you.

Is he still living out of a suitcase?

At the moment.

He’s somewhere in the Russian steps,

trying to negotiate a contract

for the next Solzhenitsyn.

When I told him that I was planning a Midwest tour,

he felt that Easton

was the perfect stopover for me.

You tell him I’m okay.

I will.

Where I am now is... I just--

I want to have a job that I can enjoy

and maybe someday I’ll get married

and have a family of my own.

Well, you have the career.

How about the rest of it?

Whether it would be--

There is... someone and she will be a XXX.

Well, if you’re half a stubborn as your father,

I believe you’ll get what you want.

Oh, I’m twice as stubborn as my father.

And I plan to get what I want.

You know, Chicago has been talking me, Crowe.

See they’d like to groom me to be the next Howard Stern.

What, do you think I don’t know that?

Forget Chicago.

You and I have a contract.

Worth, maybe, the paper it’s printed on.

I’ll tell you what, Crowe.

You tear up the contract, triple my salary,

then I’ll tell my feet to keep still.

And don’t tell me about your lawyers,

’cause they’re not gonna be able to do

diddly for you, pal, not when they find out

how you’ve been feeding me phony rumors

to destroy David Osterman.

Oh, and I have tapes of our phone conversations,

and a little scrapbook of your memos.

You know, just the kind of stuff

that’s required listening and reading at the FCC.

Okay, Marcus, let’s get real.

Hey, man, what do you think I’ve been saying?

These locals, your loyal fans, now they may have

a limitless capacity for that shock jock crap of yours.

But I know these people, and I guarantee you

that when they learn about your past

as a two bit sportscaster

with a penchant for 14-year-old girls,

you’re gonna find yourself

so far over the line that nobody will let you

within five miles of a microphone.

Hi, Elizabeth. Could you take our coats, please?

This is your husband’s fourth marriage

and you’re surprised he cheated on you?

Now, when you started seeing him,

was he still married to his third wife?

Yes, but--

Your doctor Annie doesn’t pull many punches, does she?

Well, half the fun is trying to figure out who the callers are.

Most of them try to disguise their voices.

Pardon me, Mrs. Fletcher?

Yes.

Danny Cochran’s the name.

Oh, how do you do?

Do you remember The Triple Crown Murders?

Oh, yes. That was my fourth book.

Well, you really nailed down the whole racetrack scene.

Well, that’s very kind of you, but actually I had some

very good advice.

Yeah, anyway, you had this clue in there

about a quick acting toxin.

Of course, that was butyl salicylate, I think.

Well, it changed my life for about 45 minutes anyway.

There was a nag named Sudden Poison

going off at 65 to 1 in the fourth race.

And you won?

Five hundred bucks right on the nose.

Five hundred times?

Danny, that’s a great deal of money.

So I put the whole bundle down on the sure thing.

She’s still running.

Oh, I’m sorry.

It was a hell of a rush.

Oh, when you’re in there with the Rule man,

if that weasel gives you any static this afternoon,

you just give me the sign and he’s off the air.

Mrs. Fletcher, your visit has made our day

even more special here at KGAB

Well, thank you, Mr. Crowe.

Your dedication speech, Mr. Crowe.

I thought we could spend a few minutes going over it

after you’re finished here.

Oh, I don’t have time.

I was just leaving

to check out the transmitter site

in a couple of minutes.

Okay.

I’ll see you after your interview, Mrs. Fletcher.

Fine.

Shall we?

Very nice meeting you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank you.

Love makes fools of the very young and the very old.

That’s a line from one of your books.

Sergeant Grady, the cops at Vespers.

As I recall, the wife murdered her beautiful young rival

and very nearly got away with it.

Aha, but she did get caught. Her jealousy gave her away.

Oh, well, that wouldn’t be a problem for me, Jessica.

I’ve long since stopped giving a damn

what Colin does with his private life.

Look, I feel I owe you an apology

for subjecting you to our resident mouth, Mr. Rule.

Oh, that’s not necessary, Louise.

I came here voluntarily, for better or worse.

Well, I hope it’s for better.

Listen, I understand your flight to Los Angeles

doesn’t leave until the day after tomorrow.

Can I talk you into coming out to lunch at the farm

before you leave Easton?

Oh, I’d like that very much.

- How about tomorrow at 1:00? - That’d be fine.

You’re on in two minutes, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, thanks. Bye.

Hello.

Well, hello.

I just wanted to wish you luck.

Come here.

Well, well, J.B. Fletcher,

well, it is a real pleasure to have you as our guest today.

Well, it’s great pleasure for me too, Mr. Rule.

I’ve heard a great deal about you.

Yeah, yeah, right.

Charming, gracious, intelligent.

Well, do you think you can manage to stay

on the same page with me for an hour anyway?

- Well, I’ll do my best. - Good.

Let’s make some good radio you and me--

Four, three, two.

So, J.B. Fletcher,

why don’t you tell me why women like yourself,

when your husbands all die, and you suddenly

haven’t got anybody you can make crazy,

What makes you turn to writing about the act of murder?

And I’m talking vicious

and great lure and bloody detail.

Everything from, from strangling to stabbing

to dismemberment,

because I’ll tell you what my take on it is.

I figure we’re looking at some long, repressed,

really heavy urge to commit,

the one biggest no-no in our society,

aside from cannibalism or smoking pot.

So come on, speak up, Jessica.

Well, the hour is almost up, Jessica,

and the Rule man still wants to know.

The vicarious thrill, as you call it, Mr. Rule, isn’t mine.

Ideally, it’s the reader’s, and it’s derived

from a, hopefully, well-told murder mystery

that challenges one to figure out

who done it before the fictional detective

can find the answer.

Yeah, right.

All right, well, maybe you can tell me

why mayhem-mongers

like yourself get such a thrill

out of killing off men in your books.

Oh, Mr. Rule, that’s a bit of an overstatement, to put it kindly.

Yeah, well, I’m sure it is. Come on, Jessica, what are we talking?

We’re talking failed relationships here, you know,

maybe, maybe some

deep seated problems with our fathers.

Uh, Mr. Rule, that is such a--

You can’t deny that women, lacking the right stuff

to pull that trigger themselves,

live out their murderous fantasies through men.

Mr. Rule, if that is your understanding of

mayhem-mongers and women in general,

I must say, please excuse the obvious metaphor,

you are dead wrong.

What really astonishes me,

however, is that the many guests

who must have put up with the same tacky,

pretentious, intellectually impoverished pop psycho babble

that I have endured over the past hour,

not one of them has had enough of the right stuff

to do you in long ago.

Boy, that lady hits harder than a line-backer

on a Sunday afternoon.

Well, you got spirit, Jessica.

I like that in a woman.

Well, thank you, Mr. Rule. I do my best.

And to show that there’s no hard feelings,

although you did mention that you don’t find it necessary to read books,

there’s one that I’m gonna send you anyway.

Yeah, well, thanks. But I educate myself through electronic media osmosis.

Ah, extraordinary.

But surely, you’ve heard of Dostoyevsky.

Hey, who hasn’t?

Well, he wrote about a man who reminds me

a great deal of yourself.

A man who sees clearly

- through the hypocrisy of his society. - Really?

Well, maybe we’ll all have to touch base with his publisher,

get them to swing by in his next book tour.

Oh, that would be quite a coup, Mr. Rule.

You see, he happens to have been dead for over 100 years.

So we won’t do it live.

Anyway what’s the name of the book?

It’s called The Idiot.

All right, folks,

it’s time to listen to some of the people

who pay for all this illumination.

That was a cheap shot, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, sorry you feel that way, Mr. Rule.

I thought we made some rather good radio together.

You and me.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a sidewinder missile,

huh, Mrs. Fletcher?

Jessica, you gave me such a satisfying memory

of my last day here at the station.

Mrs. Fletcher, it would be a pleasure to drive you to your inn.

Well, that’s very kind of you.

I could do with a bit of a rest.

Thank you, Danny.

I’ll see you at the dedication ceremony.

Yes.

I want you to see my winner’s circle.

That’s my wall of fame.

Every winner that I ever had is circled in red up there.

Mrs. Fletcher, since I’m going out to

Vinewood park this afternoon,

I was wondering if you’d bring me some luck

by using that handicapping system of yours.

To pick a win, remember?

The Triple Crown Murders?

- But aren’t you going to the dedication? - What?

And celebrate an additional 20,000 watts of Marcus Rule?

Please. Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, I mean, I would probably bet again Secretariat,

but however.

Here goes for the Fletcher handicapping system.

Ta-da!

Savoy Stomp

going in the 9th at 20 to 1?

It’s golden Mrs. Fletcher, I can feel it.

You know, what’s happening at KGAB stinks.

You’ve got to understand,

Louise Crowe is a very special lady.

She cares about people.

Colin Crowe, huh, if it weren’t for the ratings,

the man wouldn’t have a pulse.

And yet he does seem to have made

a great success at the station.

I understand there were some pretty lean years.

Yeah, but without Mrs. Crowe,

things just aren’t going to be the same.

I got to tell you something, Mrs. Fletcher.

When you lowered the boom on that Rule man back there,

it was a double whammy,

because you drove one right through

Colin Crowe, too.

Here you go, Mrs. Fletcher.

Mr. Baker said it was urgent.

I see. Uh, may I use your phone?

Sure.

Thank you.

Yes, Jonathan Baker, please.

Well, did he leave a forwarding number?

Not even his home number?

I see. Well, thank you, very much.

Francine, to make my life

richer and more bountiful, speak.

Marcus, are you saying the highway commissioner

purposely diverted the road around Rock Ridge,

so he could line his pockets with--

Hey, does that connecting road up

near Three Forks ring a bell, Francine?

Come on, ’cause I guarantee you,

once my story breaks tomorrow,

it’s gonna be ringing David Osterman.

But, enough truth in politics,

because now it’s time for our daily lobotomy.

That’s right.

That bastion of the free press,

the daring tell-it-like-it-is, Network News.

Mr. Shannon.

Hello, Marcus.

Hi, yeah, I was just gonna call you.

Listen, I’ve made up my mind and it’s a go.

Wonderful.

I’ll be in Chicago, on the 11th.

Any problems getting out of your contract?

Contract problem? No.

It was legal contract.

No, no, no, wait.

No, hey, hey, don’t worry about it, man.

Listen, Crowe can’t do a thing.

Oops.

Jonathan.

Jessica, where is Ronna?

I thought she was driving you over.

Well, that was the plan.

Maybe she forgot,

in which case I could use a lift.

Oh, sure.

She’s probably over at the transmitter.

I’m afraid this is as formal as I get these days.

Oh, it looks fine to me.

Listen, I tried to return your call.

Oh, I’m sorry. I was looking for Ronna.

She left a message, something is wrong.

Sounds like her world’s fallen apart.

Well, what’s the matter?

I don’t know.

She just kind of trailed off and hung up.

Jessica, I’m sorry, I got to go try to find Ronna.

Jonathan.

Right over there.

Jessica, there you are.

- Jessica, welcome to KGABs new beginning. - Yes.

And my retirement from what we laughingly refer to

around here as the communications business.

Mrs. Crowe, where is your husband?

Anything you have to say to Colin, Mr. Osterman,

you can say to me, at least for the moment.

Well, have him understand that when the voters elect me,

which they will, despite his efforts to slander me,

my first act as state senator will be to demand

an FCC investigation of your station.

At which point, you can kiss your broadcast license goodbye.

I’m afraid, Mr. Osterman,

very soon it won’t be mine to lose.

But I’ll relay your sentiments to Colin.

You're a loud-mouthed creep.

Hey, whoa. What is it, Davey? Huh?

You come all the way down here to tell us it just ain’t so?

Come on, man, do it.

I'll have you in the courts for the next ten years.

I think you better leave, please.

Well, this is just wonderful.

No Colin, no Ronna.

The transmitter is about to go online in ten minutes.

Now I understand why he insisted I show up.

Excuse me.

The only thing that I can imagine

tackier than Louise and Colin, is Ronna and Colin.

Two weeks, Mrs. F, and I’m out of here.

Chicago, the 200 station guarantee for starters.

So next time you want to hustle one of your books,

don’t call me.

A new era begins

as we welcome more than two million households

into our new KGAB radio family.

I won’t keep you waiting any longer.

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the new power house

in the state, 25,000 watt, KGAB radio.

The preliminary report from the medical examiner

indicates two entry wounds

to the heart about an inch apart.

Yeah, one more strap.

I got five bullet strikes on the girders,

two hits, five misses.

Apparently our shooter’s no Annie Oakley.

Have you found Ronna yet?

No.

Shell casings indicate a high-powered rifle.

But none of the guests at the reception report hearing the shots.

It would suggest that the victim was killed

sometime after the county inspectors left at 1:45,

but before the caterers got here

at 2:20 this afternoon.

Mrs. Fletcher, I’m sheriff Waterman.

Oh, sheriff.

I hear Marcus Rule is still trying to figure out

where that left hook of yours came from.

Oh, the interview.

He did seem to lead with his chin, didn’t he?

Not to spoil your visit,

but I hear you’re pretty good at this sort of thing.

You have any ideas?

I’m afraid not, do you?

Well, lots of them.

Guys with union cards who didn’t appreciate

Crowe’s attacks on David Osterman.

Farmers who were upset with his stand on subsidies last winter.

I got a whole county full of motives.

Our search team found this in a service road ditch,

up in the Hills next to the transmitter.

You bought it, nine months ago.

Dexter Sporting Goods over on Clearwater.

They just faxed us the sales receipts.

And we’re working on the prints and ballistics now.

I got people over at the radio station told me about,

about you and Ronna Simmons and about her and Colin Crowe.

And I’ve got county attorney Cusack on my butt

’cause, you know, he loves a sure thing.

And he’s figuring that it’ll take the grand jury

maybe, what, five minutes to indict you for murder one?

Johnny, boy.

If you’re not gonna open your mouth,

then I’d suggest that you better get yourself

a heck of a lawyer.

Your father has arranged

for his personal attorney to fly in from New York.

Look, Jonathan, I don’t believe for one moment

that you had anything to do with this,

but unless you open up...

It doesn’t matter.

Who knew that you kept

your rifle behind the seat of your truck?

Everyone knew.

I showed it around when I first bought it.

And that phone call from Ronna,

was there any more to it than you told me?

Look, that phone call had nothing to do with it.

Now, Jessica, I know what you are trying to do,

but I’m willing to just let this thing ride its course.

So why don’t you?

Jonathan, I promised your father

I’d do everything I could to help.

And whether you like it or not,

that’s exactly what I intend to do.

Thank you for letting me talk to him.

Sheriff Waterman, I’ve known Jonathan for most of his life

and I cannot imagine that he would kill anyone.

Well, people do unexpected things

under pressure, in desperation.

Well, he was clever enough to use a slim jim

to break into his own truck.

But you yourself said you have a county of motives.

But he is the only smoking gun.

He had the time, had the means,

ballistics check out, the prints check out.

Sheriff, of course, his prints were all over his own gun.

Whoever killed Colin Crowe made sure

that they stayed there.

Were there any other prints?

Yes, as a matter of fact, there were.

Forensics is still trying to identify them.

You know, if I were in Baker’s shoes

I’d want you on my side, too.

Oh, by the way, Mrs. Crowe called

to remind you about a date for lunch.

Oh, really?

With everything that’s happened,

I’d assume that she’d cancel.

Hanson, drive Mrs. Fletcher out to the Crowe farm

- and wait for her. - Yes, Sir.

Thank you, sheriff, that’s very kind of you.

Well.

My father made his money in the stock market.

After my mother died,

he bought this place, even made it turn a profit.

He was incredibly competitive.

He taught me to win at everything.

Well, you were a very good pupil.

Oh, these are just local competitions.

My father gave me the radio station

as a wedding present.

He wrote on the gift card,

"Now I don’t have to be alone in suffering your opinions."

I did a political commentary once a week.

I let the whole county know what was on my mind.

Your father must have been quite a man.

His death shattered me.

My marriage fell apart.

I even stopped shooting my mouth off on the air.

I just settled in and played lots of country ballads.

Well, that’s a far cry from Marcus Rule.

At least that was Danny’s complaint.

I began to detest what Colin had done to the station.

It was my lawyers who drew up

the agreement to let him buy me out

which was also my way of ending the marriage gracefully.

Louise, I don’t mean to sound insensitive,

but I imagine that your husband’s death

results in a very complicated legal triangle.

No, not really.

He hadn’t gotten around to changing his will.

The station is still mine,

which I suppose makes me a suspect.

I suppose it could.

Come, Jessica,

isn’t the cliche always a younger woman

and a jealous wife?

Thank you, Alex.

The jealous wife seldom allows herself

to appear as composed as you are.

Playing the part of the dutiful widow is not exactly my style.

Louise, I can’t help thinking, given what’s happened,

that you had more of a purpose

in inviting me out here for lunch

than simply telling me all this.

Look, what it comes down to is this,

if you’re looking for a way to get your young friend

Jonathan Baker off the hook,

I don’t think you or the sheriff

have to look any further than Ronna Simmons.

What makes you think it was Ronna?

When they find her, ask her when she discovered

she wasn’t the only other woman in Colin’s life.

No, no, no, Mr. Cusack,

I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you,

don’t take this to the grand jury

until I complete my investigation.

Yeah, I’ll get right back to you.

It just came in from forensics.

They had to go back three years to the university

to ID the second set of prints on the murder weapon.

Put out an APB, all right?

Yeah, get me Cusack back, huh.

And David Osterman?

Colin’s investors wanted Osterman defeated.

So my husband put a private investigator on his tail.

He didn’t find a trace of political wrongdoing,

but he still had Marcus to say

whatever was necessary to keep his money people happy.

So Mr. Osterman was right about your station

slandering him.

Yes.

And, ironically, those same surveillance reports,

which my husband ordered, also provided

Mr. Osterman with an alibi.

Oh, what was that?

At the time of the murder,

David Osterman was in bed with a wealthy widow.

Well, that could prove disastrous

for his political ambitions.

It could if it got out.

This morning I turned those surveillance reports

over to Mr. Osterman.

He’s free to do whatever he wants with them.

Louise, I don’t like being used.

I don’t know what you mean.

The wealthy widow that he was in bed with,

- that was you, wasn’t it? - Yes, but--

And you were counting on me, being terribly intuitive,

so that I could serve as a character witness for both of you

without revealing any of details to the sheriff.

Jessica, I didn’t kill Colin, and neither did David.

I certainly hope you didn’t.

I found her holed up in a motel out on highway 61.

Well, miss Simmons.

You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, young lady.

I didn’t even know that Colin was dead

until they arrested me.

Jonathan, I wanted to talk to you

and I wanted to see you.

And I started to leave you that message, but...

what Ronna? But what?

I didn’t think it would make a difference.

I wanted to tell you

that it was over between Colin and me.

And I wanted to tell you what a stupid,

misguided idiot I’d been in thinking

that I was anything

more than just a prop for his ego.

I wanted to ask you if you could forgive me.

I don’t think I can deal with that right now.

I understand.

That’s why I didn’t finish the message.

All right.

The desk Clerk at the motel told the sheriff

that you’d checked in at 6:30.

That was two hours after the murder.

I was-- I was driving around,

I don’t know where I went or how long.

Ronna, someone must have seen you.

They have your gun with my fingerprints on it.

But I told the sheriff

that I was teaching you how to shoot.

But they think that I did it.

I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t have.

Come on, I took her shooting twice.

She couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn.

Neither could the killer, apparently.

Well, this is ’cause Colin Crowe

is such a big shot in this town, right?

There must be a lot of pressure on you

and the DA to hang somebody.

You know, you should take some advice,

start looking out for your own self.

No thanks, sheriff.

I don’t need your advice.

I’ll wait for you outside.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher, now there is a, uh,

a young man who is in a heck of a wrestling match

with what he knows to be the facts

and what he wants to believe.

Well, it’s only natural, sheriff.

He cares a great deal for Ronna.

That’s not what I’m saying.

You mean, Jonathan knows something

but he’s not telling us?

No, I mean he was seen all over town,

looking for her at the time of the murder.

Doesn’t appear that he found her, does it?

Chill out, Jonathan.

Your father’s lawyer will be here later tonight.

Well, I don’t know what good he’ll do, Jessica.

Look, this is a very small town.

There can’t be that many roads that lead to the motel

where they found her.

Somebody must have seen her.

Do you have a map?

Yeah, somewhere, under the seat.

Well, maybe you’re right, maybe somebody did see her.

Wait just a minute.

Is this your pen, Jonathan?

No. Here’s the map.

I don’t think we’re gonna need the map.

I’m gonna go talk to the sheriff and make a phone call.

Jonathan, I think I know who the murderer is.

And if we’re lucky, we may be able to prove it.

Louise, please don’t do that just yet.

Danny told you I was coming I take it.

Yes, that is what I thought I saw yesterday.

Jessica.

Oh, hi. I’m sorry, I’m late.

But I am not the most orderly guy in the world.

This darn thing was hidden under a pile of junk in my living room.

Oh, I brought you a present.

Oh.

I put 20 bucks down on Savoy Stomp.

Well, maybe I should take up handicapping as a profession.

So that guy in New York doesn’t believe

you picked Savoy Stomp, huh.

Well, I thought that a photograph

of the two of us with you

circling the horse’s name would help to convince him.

Hey, no problem. No problem.

It isn’t every day that I hit 20 to 1.

Here we go.

Looking for this, Danny?

Oh, yeah.

I’ve been looking for that all day.

Well, so where do we stand?

I don’t think that I’ll need the picture after all.

But...

Danny, I don’t think Mrs. Fletcher really came here

for a photograph.

Oh, you want to let me in on the gag, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, Louise is right.

I’m here because I believe that I can reveal

the identity of her husband’s killer.

You see, it bothered me from the beginning.

All those shots fired and all of the misses

except for the two

perfect deadly shots to the heart.

But sheriff Waterman said they were lucky shots.

Well, maybe, Louise,

but when I saw your marksmanship trophies,

it occurred to me that possibly every shot fired

by the killer that afternoon was in fact right on target.

I mean, the first two shots were dead on...

killing Mr. Crowe instantly,

The next five shots were-- Well, they were wild,

exactly as intended. To make us think

that we were dealing with a very poor marksman.

You’re not saying that Louise had anything to do with this?

Mrs. Crowe wasn’t the only one with the skill

to make this shooting appear to be the work of a novice.

If I’m not mistaken,

these are army sharp shooting medals

that you’re wearing, aren’t they?

Yeah, sure.

Hey, come on, wait a minute.

I was at the track, where do you think I got the program?

Well, that particular program?

In a trash bin at Vinewood park

less than an hour ago.

Less than an hour ago, I was in my living room.

After Mrs. Fletcher called you to

bring in the program, I followed you to the track.

Okay, so I lost someone at the track.

Jessica, I just handed you

400 bucks in winnings, didn’t I?

Not a lot of money to keep an alibi alive.

Jessica, none of this means that Danny killed Colin.

That’s not true, Louise.

You also suspected Danny and wanted to protect him

by removing the photograph.

But still there’s no proof.

Well, there is now.

Danny, when you broke

into Jonathan’s truck to steal his rifle...

your pen fell out of your pocket.

I found it under the seat proving that you had been

inside this truck.

Danny, why?

It was the day after I graduated high school,

I took out a map, closed my eyes

and stabbed at it with my finger,

just like your handicapping system, Jessica.

Only I picked Easton.

I got a job here.

I met Louise.

All the time I was in the army,

she was all I ever thought about.

I came back from 'Nam,

Louise’s marriage was on the rocks,

and we had some times together.

You were all I ever wanted,

but there was always someone else.

I figured some day I would be the only one left

and that we could work the station together.

I knew that once Colin took over the station...

I’d never see you again.

Oh, Danny.

Come on, Danny.

We’re all set, Jessica.

Have you spoken to your father?

Yeah, I want him to meet Ronna,

so we’re gonna fly to London tomorrow.

Oh, how wonderful.

Best of luck to both of you.

Thank you for everything.

Well, we better get me to the airport.

- Okay. - Yeah, yeah.

So remember, get smart, get ruled.

So, Jessica, you did real well.

Sure, you solved a murder, sure,

but nothing beats that warm all over feeling

you get from nailing another man, right?

I understand that Chicago fell through.

Hey, no problem, lady.

I got a home right here, because you know something,

the beauty of this one horse state

is that no matter how much I insult these retards,

no matter what I say, they’re gonna keep coming back for more,

because they are the stupidest,

most muddleheaded doofuses this side of the zoo.

Marcus, I hope you really intended

for that to be broadcast over 25,000 watts.

Now I understand why it’s called "killer radio".