All language subtitles for MrSWr4E18.Benedict.Arnold.Slipped.Here.

Tillie Adams is dead.

Dead?

Kevin, I swear I had nothing to do with it.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

She left this rat trap to me,

and I'm not about to share it with the village idiot.

Why do you suppose the ambulance is outside

and the police car?

Oh, it's nothing we need to concern ourselves about.

I'd just love to merge our resources

and our connections.

Why, I shall have the house dismantled

and shipped back to England

as a shrine to Benedict Arnold.

A shrine?

Well, now what did you get for her?

Oh, I got her mostly fruit and a little makeup

to boost her morale.

If you ask me, the outside of Tillie's house

could use a coat of paint too.

Oh, it'll take more than one coat.

Might hold the house together.

If I can find someone, I will, someone who needs the work.

I thought you hired Emily Goshen

to clean for Tillie.

Doesn't look to me as if she's moved the dust around much.

Well, it is more for company.

You know, when you're a shut-in,

it's very comforting to know that there is somebody else

in the house.

Even Emily Goshen?

I'll let Tillie know we're here.

Tillie, it's Jessica and Dr. Hazlitt!

Tillie, you decent?

Tillie?

Tillie?

Dad, guess what.

Kevin, Kevin, can't you see I'm with a customer?

I know, but it's somethin' special.

Kevin, whatever it is, it can wait.

- But, you don't know-- - It can wait, Kevin!

Now, you were sayin', Emily?

I'd like to see the brooch, if you please.

Yeah, here it is. Here's the little beauty.

Come to buy it back, have you?

$30, same as you paid me for it.

Oh, well now, Emily,

that was the price six months ago, the old price.

I, uh, I'm afraid it's gonna cost you $50 now.

You're tryin' to cheat me, Mr. Tibbles.

Harsh words, Emily, for a lady of your gentility.

That brooch was my mother's. It was a family heirloom.

Isn't that funny?

You know, I saw one just like it

on Tillie Adams's bureau about six months ago.

Don't you talk to me about Tillie.

Oh, I've seen you wheedlin' that old lady,

makin' such a big deal about changin' a light bulb

or puttin' in a window screen.

Nice seein' you again, Emily.

Why don't you come back when you got the money?

But I'd hurry, if I were you,

'cause I can feel the price goin' up again, any minute.

Some day, Mr. Tibbles. Some day you'll be sorry.

Oh, I'm sorry already. I should have asked for 60.

Now what are you yammerin' about?

- Tillie Adams is dead. - Dead?

Kevin, I swear I had nothin' to do with it.

I just used to go up there

to fix things for her just to help the poor old soul.

Dad, she died of natural causes.

Oh, is that so?

Kevin, why don't you send your suit out to get cleaned?

I'll even pay.

'Cause you and me are goin' to a funeral.

Poor Tillie.

She was forgotten before she was gone.

I've seen larger crowds at the drive-in theater

waiting in line for mosquito spray.

Well, at least Benny Tibbles and his son showed up.

I wonder why.

- You want some coffee? - Yes, please.

Well, the way he was wiping up his crocodile tears,

you'd have thought he'd lost his best friend in the world,

but that's simply ridiculous.

Benny is his own best friend in the world.

I saw him leaving Tillie's house one time.

He was counting on his fingers.

- Anybody home? - Oh, Amos, come on in.

Thanks, Mrs. Fletcher. Hi, Doc.

Howdy.

Ah, guess you folks went to the funeral, huh?

Oh, pity you weren't there, Amos.

Wasn't half as much fun without you.

- Seth. - I had to be in court.

While I was there, I bumped into Tillie's lawyer.

He told me, in the strictest confidence,

about her will.

Sit down, Amos.

Ah, and now you're gonna tell us

in the strictest confidence, huh?

Seems only fair, since Mrs. Fletcher's in it.

- Me? - Just wait.

First of all,

Tillie left her house to her grandniece.

Well, didn't know she had one.

Well, no one knows whether she was dead or alive.

I mean, she disappeared around the time of Woodstock.

Well, the house is all she's gonna get.

She left the contents of the house to Benny Tibbles...

to repay his kindness and thoughtfulness.

Well, that's not the Benny Tibbles I know.

I thought you said Jess was in the will.

Well, not exactly in it, Doc.

Mrs. Fletcher, Tillie named you her executor.

Good heavens.

Well, I suppose that's a great honor.

I think I'd hold back on my enthusiasm

if I were you, Jess.

As I see it, your work will be

getting an appraisal of Tillie's house

and then an inventory of everything that's in it

for tax purposes.

You ought to be through by next Christmas.

Easter, with any luck.

Unless you get out of it.

Won't be much fun dealin' with Benny Tibbles either.

Tibbles. Good afternoon.

Benny, I thought I asked you not to call me here.

You have a very keen eye, Mr. Wetherly.

Benny, whatever it is, I'm not interested.

Well, you should be interested, little brother,

because I am perfectly willing to cut you in

on something very big.

Ah. How big?

About the size of a white elephant?

Like that three-legged breakfront

that kept falling over every time you opened the doors?

I am talking big, monetarily.

It fell into my lap,

and I'm offering you a golden opportunity.

Please, get in you car, drive up here to Cabot Cove

and we will talk about it.

No, it would be impossible for me

to rearrange my schedule.

Well, thank you so much, Mr. Wetherly.

You've made a wonderful selection.

Wilton, I am talking the mother lode of antiques,

and it all belongs to me!

Hold on a moment.

My assistant is bidding for my attention.

Twelve thousand for a settee!

He has the perfect little spot for it in his foyer.

I bought that piece of junk from Benny for $70.

Apparently there's more where that came from.

As I was saying, a drive up the coast

wouldn't be all that unpleasant.

See you soon, big brother.

Mmm.

Hello?

Oh, Eve, are you finished already?

- How does it look? - Ah, where to start?

The building is ancient and dilapidated,

the plumbing needs to be ripped out and replaced,

the wiring is a joke, the roof is shot,

the building has dry rot

and will never pass a termite inspection,

the septic tank is inadequate, the trees are dying,

the fence is falling down, the backyard is a dump.

I mean, what else do you want to know, Jessica?

Well, surely it has one redeeming feature.

Face it, there is nothing here to attract a buyer,

not even a good romantic history.

Oh, now wait a minute, Eve.

I seem to recall that this house

has some connection with the Revolutionary War.

I mean, didn't George Washington sleep here once?

Close, Jessica, close.

It was Benedict Arnold who put his boots

under the bed here, more than once.

According to the legend,

he and the lady of this house were very simpatico.

Well, that is not likely to thrill the D.A.R.

Ah, between you and me,

this house has been altered so many times,

there's nothing left of the original structure

except part of the den.

Of course, there's one difference.

The house was a lot cleaner in the old days.

I think you offended her.

Impossible.

Emily used to clean for me twice a week,

until one day, my best pair of shoes

walked right of the house and were never seen again.

Oops!

Oh, I am late for an appointment with a hot prospect

from out of town.

Very British. Talks like David Niven.

Oh, don't let me keep you from that.

Oh, I'll try to make some sense out of this.

I'll get back to you.

Thanks, Eve. I know you're very busy.

Busy?

Oh, Jessica, real estate in this town

is about as dead as dear old Benedict.

We'll talk. Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Emily, I know that you must be very tired

and upset, of course, over Tillie's death.

But I am counting on you to bring some kind of order

into all of that chaos.

Well, it hardly seems worth the bother,

now that she's dead.

But if that's what you want, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thanks.

But I will tell you one thing.

Eve Simpson don't know beans about this house.

That was no legend about Benedict Arnold

and his lady friend.

- That was pure gospel. - Oh?

Well, Tillie told me so herself, and she knew,

'cause she was related to Benedict Arnold,

on the wrong side of the blanket.

Yeah, and that's not all she told me.

Tillie swore that there was treasure in this house.

Treasure? What sort of treasure?

Well, she didn't say exactly.

But, oh, I could tell from the glint in her eye that,

ooh, it must have been something of value, you know,

uh, like gold, maybe.

Really? She never mentioned that to me.

Well, the way Benny Tibbles was hangin' around

and playin' up to her,

oh, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she told him.

Hmm.

That car I'm restoring? It's almost finished.

- So what? - I could sell it.

Who to?

Everybody in Cabot Cove already owns an old car.

Uncle Wilton said this one's special.

I could sell it for a bundle in Boston.

- Well, you're not in Boston. - Well, I could be

if you gave me $50,000 to get started.

Fifty--

Will you please stop talkin' to your uncle Wilton?

Now there's no need for you to go to Boston.

You've got it made right here in Cabot Cove.

Kevin, one day all of this is gonna belong to you.

Benny, let me look at you.

- Hello, Wilton. - My God, you never change.

I knew you couldn't pass up an opportunity like this.

- Who's your friend? - My assistant.

Lauren, this is my brother Benny and his son Kevin.

Lauren Hastings.

Always glad to meet one of Wilton's, uh, assistants.

Why, thank you, Benny. I've heard a lot about you too.

- So this must be little Kevin. - Hello, ma'am.

- Back to work on your car, Kev. - I want to talk to--

I said back to work on the car, Kevin.

Your uncle and I have business to do.

Benny, Benny, how I envy you

and your low overhead.

I was so sorry to hear about Tillie Adams passing away.

Mmm.

Congratulations, you old fox.

Don't you try and flimflam me, Wilton.

Me, flimflam my own big brother?

Oh, come on. Get off it.

How many times have I sold you pieces

for a couple of dollars that you took down to Boston

and sold for a couple of hundred?

- Oh, Benny! - Uh-huh.

Well, this time, it's gonna be different.

Either I get paid half or the whole deal is off.

You know, dear brother, it's just possible

that you've inherited a house full of junk

even I can't sell.

Won't work, Wilty.

I happen to know there's a fortune in Tillie's house.

You know, Benny,

I'm starting to work up quite a thirst.

I'll go get us a little hard cider.

Good. Now we're talking.

I've been dying to get into

that old woman's house for years.

Ever want something so bad you just can't stand it?

Why, Wilton, you've been reading my mind.

Just a minute.

- Mrs. Fletcher? - Yes.

I heard Tillie Adams is dead and you're her executor.

Yes. Uh, who are you?

I'm Liza Adams, her grandniece,

and I've come for my inheritance, in cash.

Hello. Oh, hello, Eve.

I was thinking of giving you a call,

but I wasn't sure that you'd be up this early.

Jessica, do you remember my mentioning

that gentleman from out of town?

Well, he's very interested in buying Tillie's house.

Well, that's very nice,

but, uh, it might be a little premature.

Why?

The word is the new owner's in town.

Well, I can see that the beauty parlor

for communication system is working in good order.

But I'm afraid that, uh,

legal ownership hasn't yet been established.

Jess! Oh.

I'm talking to Eve Simpson.

Jessica, is there any way to hurry up this process?

This is very important to me.

Now look, very frankly,

Tillie's grandniece sounds more than willing to sell.

I advised her to stick close,

and I promise that... I'll introduce you to her.

Oh, please. The sooner the better.

You just hold onto that hot prospect, Eve.

Good-bye.

Jess, did you know

you've got a squatter out here in your backyard?

Oh, that's Liza Adams.

Uh, yeah, appears she took your advice.

Couldn't be much closer unless she moved in.

Maybe she likes living in a tent.

Oh, Jess.

You're the only person I know with her own private hippie.

Really.

Tillie never could throw away a busted umbrella

or a pair of worn out galoshes.

You know, I don't know how many times

I've walked past that old sampler,

and I've never really looked at it.

It's not like any one I've ever seen before.

You know, there's usually a hand-embroidered alphabet

with, you know, a homely motto

that shows off the maker's needleworking skills.

But whoever made this was either short on skill

or patience.

Jess.

Jess, come over here and look at this!

Have you ever seen such exquisite detail?

Oh, my. Isn't that lovely!

18th-century British.

I saw one like it in a museum once.

Oh, it just breaks my heart

to think that Tibbles will get his hands on this.

Don't you suppose there's some way we could,

you know, overlook it?

Seth.

No, I guess not.

Wait till you see this stuff.

It's like a trip to a candy store.

- Mmm. - Come in, come in.

Morning, Benny.

Jessica.

Mrs. Fletcher is Tillie's executrix.

Aha.

Mr. Wilton here

is a very well-known antique expert from Boston.

Uh, Miss Hastings is his assistant.

I've asked them both to come up to help me

with an appraisal of my goods.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember

that you have a brother named Wilton

who sells antiques in Boston.

Now, Jessica, I do hope that you're not implying

that my brother would deliberately lowball

the estimate just to save a few lousy dollars on taxes.

Well, I didn't, but now that you mention it,

the possibility deserves consideration.

Wilton, what an exquisite chess set.

Chess set?

Um, hmm. Japanese, 20th century,

with a value of...

under $50.

- Sold. - That's the wholesale price.

- It's not for sale. - Now, hold on there, Benny.

Nothing is for sale yet, Seth. We have some cataloging to do.

Well, all right, very well.

However, seems to me that's a strange way

to be doin' business.

Well, come on.

What do you think it's all worth?

Judging from what I've seen so far, very little.

You tell them that. Me, you tell the truth.

Benny, cheap knockoffs.

Early salvation army.

Well, that shows just how much you two know about antiques.

You come along with me.

I got something that'll knock your eyes out.

All right,

gonna tell me this came from Goodwill, are you?

A writing desk?

Please, I have dozens of these in my shop.

- Right, Lauren? - Very slow movers.

All right, fine. You haven't seen anything yet.

I got plenty more to show you. Come on.

All right.

An original Chippendale. This is worth a fortune.

But we've sold original Chippendales before.

Yes, but, darling, this is a real original.

If we play our cards right,

we can make a killing in this house.

Wilton! Wilton, you get in here!

Now, you look at that, huh? And you look at this.

And over here, look at this. You look at this, huh?

Open your eyes, will you, Wilton!

- Look at all-- - Stop! Stop this!

What are you people doing in my house?

Your--Lady, I'm the heir.

- I own all this stuff. - Oh, yeah?

You're talking to Tillie's only relative.

She left this rat trap to me,

and I'm not about to share it with the village idiot.

All I want is what's mine!

Liar, liar, pants on fire!

What you want is the treasure.

Treasure? What treasure?

Don't pay any attention to Emily.

Her machine's almost out of gum balls.

Yeah, you played up to that old lady,

and she told you about the treasure.

And you are just hoping that it's in one of these boxes.

Well, I don't care where it's at.

If it's in this house, it's mine!

No way, lady.

Anything that isn't nailed down is mine.

Liza, Benny, please! Fighting's not gonna help.

Listen, dog meat, you try and pick my pocket

and I'll peel you like an onion, layer by layer,

till there's nothin' left but a bad smell.

Well, I see the flower children are growin' up.

- What a charming room. - Oh, thank you.

What I don't quite understand, Mr. Andrews,

is why Eve Simpson sent you to me.

Oh, I'm sorry if I gave you that impression.

She didn't send me, actually.

I took it upon myself.

I must apologize for my impatience,

but I've been in Cabot Cove for three days,

and I still haven't seen the Benedict Arnold house.

Well, around here, we call it the Tillie Adams house.

Of course.

I was in contact with Tillie Adams.

As a matter of fact,

she invited me to visit her in the house.

Unfortunately, I arrived too late.

Uh, forgive me, Mr. Andrews, but, uh,

why are you so interested in a house

that you've never even seen?

Well, isn't the house exactly, Mrs. Fletcher,

at least not the structure itself.

- It's the history of the place. - Oh, yes, of course.

You mentioned Benedict Arnold, a British hero, I believe.

Have a seat.

I've always been fascinated by early American history.

I was a cryptographer during the Cold War.

Worked very closely with the Americans.

One of your new Englanders

made a joking reference to general Arnold's mistress.

And then, quite recently,

I came across a mention of her house in an old book.

And you decided to come to America and see for yourself.

My time's my own

since my wife passed away last year.

I'm engaged in writing a book about Benedict Arnold...

from a completely new perspective,

and I'd be prepared to make a generous offer for the house.

Do you suppose that I could see it... now?

Oh, dear, I hate to refuse a Bbdding author, but, uh,

well, I just couldn't let you see it unaccompanied

and certainly not after dark.

I'd welcome your company, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, I'm sorry, but, you know,

I am so behind with my own writing

that I can't possibly be that far from my typewriter.

Yes, I understand.

I'm sorry to have intruded on your time.

Good night.

Uh, supposing I arrange for Eve Simpson

to show you the house tomorrow morning?

I mean, I think you'll find it

far more fascinating by daylight.

How very kind of you.

I hate to be a nuisance, but I just--

I'm no good at waiting around.

Come on, give me some numbers.

Patience, Benny.

Now, judging from what I saw in the house,

this is a fair estimate.

If anything, I leaned in your favor.

Are you crazy?

For a whole houseful of antiques?

Not antiques.

Old, but not old enough. Sorry, Benny.

Your inheritance is a bad joke.

That's it, Wilton.

You have cheated me for the last time.

- Go easy. - Get out of here.

Just go on back to Boston.

I wouldn't let you handle this stuff

if you were the last antique dealer in the world.

Well, there's more than one way to skin a cat.

You know, I've heard that all my life,

and I still don't know what it means.

Be careful. You might find out.

I can only stay a couple of hours.

Maybe not even that long

if Mrs. Delfino starts havin' her baby this morning.

Well, the door's open.

I'm sure that I locked it yesterday.

Door to the den's open too.

Now, I know that was shut. I shut it myself.

Well, maybe Emily came in again.

Incidentally, remind me to ask her to return her key to me.

Seth!

It's Benny.

Jess, he's dead.

Yep, he's dead all right.

This must be the weapon.

- Amos, uh, fingerprints. - Oh, oh, good thinkin'.

I'd say death occurred around midnight,

give or take an hour.

Course, I'll have to wait for the autopsy.

What do you suppose Benny was doin' here anyway?

Knowin' Benny,

I expect he was lookin' for that treasure.

Well, being in front of the fireplace,

maybe he was lookin' up the chimney.

Amos, he was lookin' for treasure not Santa Claus.

And the killer grabbed the poker and struck him down.

Actually, Amos, it could have been the other way around.

I mean, Benny could have come back here,

found someone who didn't belong and challenged him--

And the killer grabbed up the poker and struck him down.

And maybe the killer found the treasure

and made off with it.

Nothing in this room has been disturbed,

and this is where Benny found him.

No, I think it's more likely that he feared discovery

after he had killed Benny and fled the scene.

He?

With that poker, anyone could commit mayhem,

even a woman.

As you will see, Mr. Andrews, this is a remarkable old house.

Why do you suppose the ambulance is outside

and the police car?

Oh, it's nothing we need to concern ourselves about.

Now, Mr. Andrews, I'm sure I don't have to tell you

about the historical significance

of this fine old building.

Yes, indeed.

Oh, it's in excellent condition.

It would make a splendid home or a very rewarding investment.

Mrs. Adams was quite elderly and frail,

and she couldn't maintain its stunning simplicity.

But I'm sure you see

the enormous possibilities here for redecorating.

Careful, now, boys.

That's not a sack of potatoes you got there.

Oh. Oh.

- Eve? - Did we come at a bad time?

Oh, now that's what I'd call an understatement.

Oh, Mr. Andrews,

I forgot that you were coming here this morning.

- I'm showing him the house. - Sorry, not today.

I have to seal off the den. There's been a murder.

Did you say... a murder?

Well, that's terrible. Now, when can I show it?

After the men from the State Police Lab

have finished goin' over the crime scene.

Yes, quite right.

I'll just have to see

the original part of the house another time.

Naturally, it's disappointing after waiting so long.

Waitin' for what?

To get in touch with history, Inspector.

Mr. Andrews is deeply interested in Benedict Arnold.

That traitor? Ha!

Why would anyone care two cents about a fella like that?

He's only a traitor in American eyes.

I hope to change all that.

Mr. Andrews is thinking of buying this house.

If so, I shall have the house dismantled

and shipped back to England.

England? What for?

To have it reassembled, as a shrine to Benedict Arnold.

A shrine?

Uh, Amos, uh, don't you think you should get the tape

out of your car to seal off the den?

Next thing you know,

we'll be celebratin' Mussolini's birthday.

Mrs. Fletcher, I do apologize for being so selfishly absorbed

in my own concerns.

There's been a terrible tragedy here.

I'll come back when it's convenient.

Miss Simpson.

Uh, Mr. Andrews,

if you don't mind waiting in the car,

I will be with you in one minute.

There's no rush.

Good day, Mrs. Fletcher.

Now, look, Jessica,

this has not been a good year for me.

I have overextended myself,

and I desperately need to sell this house.

Now, I know Andrew sounds like a nut,

but he's a rich nut.

And I don't want to let him get away.

My life depends on it. Can you understand that?

- Of course I understand. - Good.

Then try to make things a little easier, for God's sake.

Give me a little support.

- And you too, Doctor! - Well, what did I do?

Nothing! Ohh!

- How odd. - Odd?

She's always been like that.

You know, Seth, she never even asked who had been murdered.

Say, that's right.

She didn't seem to care one way or the other.

Well, I don't know about you,

but I'm ready to stop on this inventory today.

Do you think Benny's inheritance will be going to Kevin?

Probably. I'll get my clipboard.

Seth, the sampler has gone.

You said yourself it wasn't very good.

No, but it was unusual.

And obviously it was important to someone.

I wish I'd looked at it more closely.

Well, as I recall,

there was a picture of it in the Gazette last year.

Tillie stood in front of it on her 90th birthday.

I'll see if I can get you a copy.

Poor Tillie.

I wonder how many people will attend Benny's funeral.

Kevin.

Hi, Lauren.

I just wanted to let you know

how sorry I am about your father.

It's really awful, losing a-- well, a role model.

I never thought of him like that.

What are you gonna do now?

Well, I promised dad I'd fix this car.

Then I got a business to run.

It obviously hasn't sunk in yet.

Here you are, all alone in the world.

Well, if there's anything I can do to help.

Anything at all.

What about Uncle Wilton?

Oh, dear Wilton.

I'll always be grateful to him

for teaching me so much about antiques.

Now I'd like to teach you.

About antiques?

I'd just love to merge our resources

and our connections.

So this is where you've been hiding, Kev.

How clever of you to find him, Lauren.

If you don't mind, I'd like a moment alone

with my nephew to discuss business.

You know, Wilton, until this minute,

I didn't realize how much alike you two were.

Kevin and I?

Benny and you.

I'd like to propose a way to get around Eliza Doolittle.

How?

I've made a bid on her house.

And with you as my partner,

we'll own it all, including the treasure.

What do you say to that?

I think I'm considering another offer.

Good heavens! Oh!

Liza, what have you got in here?

My dinner. Mung beans and rice.

I hope nobody called the Volunteer Fire Department.

Sorry. I was meditating.

Liza, something happened last night at Tillie's house.

- A death. - Benny Tibbles.

I heard it on your radio.

You know, you said some rather harsh things to him.

I meant every word.

Last night, a cold wind blew in off the ocean.

I took some extra blankets out to your tent,

but you weren't there.

Well, yeah, I went for a walk.

I do that a lot, like, you know, when I can't sleep.

Hey, you think I wasted him? No way!

I mean, I believe in, like, the power of the soul,

and, like, reincarnation, you know.

I won't even squish a cockroach, 'cause it could be Aunt Tillie.

And then this morning,

I stopped by the lawyer's office.

He said that you haven't furnished him

with any identification.

Well, like, I burned my birth certificate

and my passport in 1970

when I declared myself a citizen of the universe.

Well, do you have a driver's license?

Well, I burned that in 1972. It was an anti-pollution rally.

- Any credit cards? - Ha! You gotta be kidding.

Oh, so I got no I.D. does that make me a non-person?

No, it doesn't.

But it may make it difficult

for you to establish a legal claim to your legacy.

Like, I don't even know if I want it.

So far, this trip has been a real bummer.

I gotta pig out on this stuff before it starts to get cold.

Come on. Let me--

Let me fix you something to eat here.

You can't eat that. It's charcoal.

Well, I like it well-done. Thanks for the use of the stove.

Hello.

Oh, hello, Eve. I just got in.

Oh, Jessica, I am desperately in need of your help.

Well, what's wrong?

I have a meeting with a second bidder on Tillie's house,

but Alastair Andrews

insists on seeing the rest of the house today.

Could you possibly meet him there in an hour?

But it'll-- it'll be dark by then.

Oh, he doesn't care. The man is obsessed.

I would get down on my knees and beg,

but this is my last good pair of panty hose!

Please, Jessica.

So far, this is the only room I've been in.

I confess my curiosity's getting the better of me.

Would you like to see upstairs?

Well, actually, my keenest interest

lies in the original part of the house, the old kitchen.

I believe it's been turned into a study.

A den.

Well, providing the crime tape has been removed, which it has.

Ooh, yes, of course.

That's where the murder took place.

Oh, excuse me.

Oh, it's you, Mrs. Fletcher.

I was just drivin' past, saw the lights on,

thought maybe somebody might be up to mischief.

Oh, so you, uh, rang the doorbell?

Had to. Didn't have a key.

- Everything okay? - Oh, yes.

Mr. Andrews is in the den, getting the feel of 1780.

Doesn't he know his side lost the war?

Oh, Amos, come and say hello.

We're allies now, you know.

What's he doin'?

To think, Benedict Arnold once stood in this very room.

I can still feel him here in the woodwork,

in the--The original brick.

Close your eyes.

You can feel his presence.

I'd rather not.

- Oh, it's you, Inspector. - That's Sheriff.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher, for allowing me this moment.

I find it quite overwhelming.

I must rush back to my hotel room

and try and capture this feeling on paper.

- I'll walk with you. - No, no need.

I can find my way.

Quite selfishly, I need the solitude.

You've been very kind. Good night.

Good night, Mr. Andrews.

- Sheriff. - Night.

When Benedict Arnold starts comin' out of the woodwork,

it's time to go home.

- I'll give you a lift. - Thank you, Amos.

There's no light switch here.

Oh, no. It's over by the bookcase.

Well, what's it doin' way over there?

Well, when they wired some of these old houses,

they had to run the wires in some rather strange places.

I wouldn't give you a plugged nickel for this squirrel cage.

Benedict Arnold.

- Any news on the murder? - Nope.

And it's sure got me stumped.

My men went all through this house,

and they couldn't find any sign of a forced entry.

Now, it stands to reason

that if Benny used his key to get in here,

and the killer was already here, then the killer had to break in.

- Maybe the killer had a key. - Well, who had a key?

Eve Simpson, you-- Emily Goshen.

Oh, Amos, you can't seriously believe that Emily is involved.

Everybody knows she's got sticky fingers.

Now, what if Benny caught her walkin' out

with that missin' sampler?

Emily, a killer?

She might pilfer now and then,

but I can't seriously believe that she's a--

That she's a thief.

Kevin, what's going--

Looks like we've got ourselves a thief.

What have you got there?

Sorry to get you out of bed, Mrs. Fletcher,

but I couldn't let Emily spend the night in my cell.

What if I had to toss some drunk in there?

Wouldn't be fair.

To which one?

I'm sorry

I just don't function very well

when I'm awakened by sirens in the night.

Mrs. Fletcher, don't tell me they have arrested you too.

Emily doesn't function too well without a siren.

No, Emily.

Sheriff Tupper wants to release you into my custody.

Emily, do you understand why you've been arrested?

I can't say that I do.

You broke into the shop and stole a brooch!

My mother gave me that brooch.

It was a family heirloom.

Emily, did you take anything out of Tillie's house?

The trash every Wednesday.

And what about the sampler

that was on the living room wall?

Next you will be asking me if I killed Benny Tibbles.

- Did you? - No!

And what would I want with that old sampler?

I couldn't understand it.

What are you talkin' about, Emily?

It didn't make any sense.

The words on the sampler, they didn't make any sense.

Can I go home now?

I had Hank over at the Gazette

blow up this part of the picture.

Though why you want to look at that old sampler,

I'll never know.

Because Emily is right. The words don't make sense.

Look, it should be "pause and reflect."

It's backwards.

Yes, of course.

That's it. It is backwards.

That's the key. I need a mirror.

Reflect...

and then pause and look at the reflection.

Now, you see, in these blocks,

the letters are the same when they're reversed.

But in these blocks, the letter change.

Capital "e" becomes a three.

And the small "r" becomes a seven.

Uh, yeah..

Yeah, seven, three, "b." But what does it mean?

Three "b."

Now, Benny was found dead in front of the fireplace.

Third brick.

Seventh row.

Jess, are we talkin' treasure here?

You've made a wise decision, my dear.

I'll believe it when I see the money.

Eve Simpson. Oh, Jessica!

Jessica, I just now made a mental note to let you know

that Liza Adams decided to sell her house to Wilton Tibbles

at a very handsome price.

Congratulations, Eve.

I know how much that means to you.

Well, now, uh, I hate to tell you my news.

- I'm listening. - Well, you're right.

Or I should say "you were right."

The house is about to fall apart.

And the building inspector just called me.

Oh.

And I'm sure he had something terribly amusing

to say about it.

Well, he said that the fireplace in the den

was in danger of collapsing,

if that strikes your funny bone.

Oh, how drole.

So if you will, please, Eve,

tell all the interested parties that the house will be closed

until the fireplace is completely restored.

I'm sure that everyone will be just as pleased as I am.

- Bye. - Bye.

Now that is what I call tossin' the fat into the fire.

Looks like you were right, Mrs. Fletcher.

How could you possibly know?

Best thing to do with that brick

is to put it on the table.

This really doesn't prove that I had anything

to do with the murder, you know.

Oh, I'm afraid it does, Mr. Andrews.

You see, it proves you were in the house

on the night of the murder.

If you hadn't seen that sampler,

you wouldn't have known where to look.

You were frustrated

at not being able to see the house,

so you let yourself in, as you did tonight.

You probably found the sampler

while you were looking for the way to the den.

Being a cryptographer,

you recognized the simple code at once

and were able to break it quickly.

Benny must have surprised you before you had a chance

to remove the brick.

He was a very excitable person.

The poker was close at hand,

and you used it to keep him quiet.

You must have felt certain that you could return later,

so you fled, taking the sampler with you,

making sure that no one else could learn its secret.

A fanciful theory, Mrs. Fletcher,

but I'm prepared to swear I knew the location

through other sources.

It won't wash, I'm afraid.

Then here's something that will.

Last night, when I brought you here,

it was dark in the den.

I left you when the doorbell rang,

and you came into the dark room.

I had only taken a few steps when the den lights flashed on.

It didn't occur to me until today

that you said you'd never been in this room before.

But it took you less than five seconds

to find an obscure light switch in the dark.

And the lights were on when I came in.

A stupid mistake.

I was in too much of a hurry to make sure it was still there.

- The gold? - Gold?

My God, do you really think

I'd take all these risks for mere gold?

I think the treasure that Mr. Andrews was seeking

is paper.

A letter from the past, I suspect.

Some sort of document?

Please, Sheriff, humor me.

I only want just one look

at the contents of that hiding place.

Well, I guess it can't hurt.

I am kind of curious about it myself.

If my theory is correct,

this document will prove that General Arnold

was under the direct orders of George Washington

when he surrendered West Point to the British.

What does it say?

Well, who wrote it?

Was it Benedict Arnold or George Washington?

Benedict Arnold's mistress.

Hmm.

It's a rather angry account

of how General Arnold betrayed not only his country,

but his mistress, as well, with one of her maids.

How ironic.

It seems that I, too,

was betrayed by Benedict Arnold.

Well, your idea to have Eve Simpson

call Alastair Andrews was a good one.

But I'm still sorry we didn't find any real treasure

in Tillie's house.

Well, different people have different ideas about treasure.

Hmm.

It's an advance present on your next birthday.

Well, I wasn't--

Plannin' on celebratin' any more birthdays, but, uh,

I am touched.

Now that we have the, uh, niceties out of the way...

I'm gonna beat your socks off.

Your move.