All language subtitles for MrSWr503 00000

Lighten up, Mr. Mayor.

A sleepy little town like this? What can happen?

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

We couldn’t very well turn to that new sheriff, could we?

I mean, I hear he’s from New York City.

Yep, that’s Morris Penroy, all right.

Been dead about, oh, 48 hours, I'd say.

Poison?

Bart Klapper never gives up on a railroad robbery.

I even know who pulled off the heist.

Ohh!

- Sheriff! - What is it, Floyd?

- We found another one. - Found another what?

Another body, Sheriff.

Come, Winston.

Ah. Lovely afternoon for a walk, Mr. Penroy.

Indeed it is, Mr. Mayor.

Nothing like sea air to keep a man fit.

Mmm. Oh, by the way, I noticed you,

uh, didn’t register to vote yet.

Probably an oversight?

Well, now, I’m glad you reminded me.

I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to vote next month.

A man has to put down roots.

Folks have, uh, pretty much persuaded me to run again.

A civic duty you carry well, Mr. Mayor.

Ah, yes. Well, I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.

Oh. Oh, is it supposed to be a surprise?

No, no. But Helen and I might have a little, uh...

surprise of our own for everyone.

Ohh! Well, good day.

Come, Winston.

Hey.

Looks like retirement agrees with you, old man.

Daryl, my boy. What a pleasure to see you.

But aren’t you jumping the gun a couple of days?

Just lookin’ after my interests. You understand, huh?

There’s nothing to worry your head about.

Everything is safe and snug.

You just make sure that it stays that way

for another two days, huh?

A word of advice, Daryl.

Keep out of sight until it’s time.

Don’t overdo the exercise, Mr. Penroy.

We wouldn’t want that old ticker to stop.

Not when you got so much to look forward to, huh?

Seth! Come on in.

Well, I see my timing is just perfect.

Well, not exactly. I just threw out the rest of the coffee.

Oh, no, no. You said you’d help me wrap a present.

Did you bring it?

Ta-da!

Seth, you’re not gonna give that tie to Morris Penroy?

Why not? It’s brand new. Never been worn.

Oh, good Heavens! Where did you buy it?

Oh, I didn’t buy it.

Amos gave it to me for last Christmas.

You know, it’s hard to believe that a whole month has passed

since--since Amos retired and went back to Kentucky.

Yeah. Down there with all those relatives of his.

Well, I tell ya, it’s not quite my idea of retirement.

Uh uh. I really miss him.

Never thought I’d say I missed old Amos.

But about this new fella- what’s his name?

Mort. Mort Metzger.

Yeah. Now, he’s a city fella.

What’s he doin’ up here in these parts, huh?

Well, as I understand it, he took early retirement.

I think he’s from New York.

You know, paying what we do,

we were lucky to find somebody with police experience.

Yeah.

Have you met his wife?

Yes. She introduced herself in the market the other day.

She was in my office last week.

Sore throat. Shouldn’t wonder.

I never heard a woman talk so much.

I must say that, uh, Adelle is, uh...

energetic.

Now, Seth, you’re not really gonna give that tie to Morris Penroy.

Course I am. Why, it’ll be just the thing

for him to wear on his honeymoon.

One of the Appletree sisters?

Seth, aren’t you letting your imagination

run away with you?

I mean, Lillian and Helen

wrote the book on spinsterhood.

You’d be surprised the gossip a doctor hears.

No, I wouldn’t.

And I wouldn’t believe it all either.

Just because Mr. Penroy rents their spare room.

I wonder which one he has his eye on, Helen or Lillian?

Lovely place you got here, Morris.

And such charming landladies.

Wouldn’t mind retiring here myself.

You too, Cliff?

You’re not supposed to be here till the day after tomorrow.

What do you mean, "you too"?

I just ran into Daryl.

Apparently, neither of you can hold your water.

Maybe we had the same thought.

Just making sure we all stick to the schedule.

Listen, my greedy friend,

if I were going to run out on you,

I would have done it months ago. As for the sched--

Oh, Helen, where are you?

As for the schedule,

we agreed to meet here two days from now.

And now I suggest you make yourself scarce.

Very scarce.

Howdy, Sheriff.

Oh, hi, Mr. Mayor. Hiya, Winston.

Mighty fine set of golf clubs you got there.

Oh, thanks.

Brimley just fixed ’em up with a new set of grips.

Thought I’d squeeze in 18 holes up at Quail Run tomorrow mornin’.

Oh? Well, tomorrow would be a work day.

Well, my deputies will be on the job.

But if we should happen to be hit with a crime wave,

Mr. Mayor, I’ll be wearin’ my beeper.

Oh, come on. Lighten up, Mr. Mayor.

A sleepy little town like this? What can happen? See ya.

Come, Winston.

Excuse me, Miss. Can I help you with that?

What do I look like, I just got off the boat?

Well, you see, I’m, uh, I’m new in town myself,

but I thought I might recommend a hotel.

Inexpensive but, uh, clean.

I’m staying there myself.

Oh, yeah? Well, why don’t you zip over there

and grab a cold shower... and then call your wife.

Helen, dear, you mustn’t overheat yourself.

Lillian, if you'd help me a little,

I wouldn’t be in danger of overheating.

Well, I would, but I broke a nail

carrying those flats of Petunias.

Well, what about me? I have a blister. Do I complain?

I could get started on the cake for the party tomorrow.

Yes, dear, do make yourself useful.

It’s getting late, and there’s so much to do.

Oh. Finished at last.

What do you think, Helen? Chocolate icing. It’s Mr. Penroy’s favorite.

What difference does it make?

Wipe your hands and come and help me.

I can’t do everything myself.

Now let’s see.

Oh, uh, all right.

Oh, there we go. Ohh.

Hold the lamp up.

- Wait! - Wha-what?

Why...

Lillian, that’s our best tablecloth.

I embroidered that myself.

Well, we can’t just--

I mean, I think it’s only right

that we cover him with something.

Here.

Oh.

I better bring up some cider

from the cellar for the party tomorrow.

Yes, you do that.

I noticed that new family

that moved in next door to you

hasn’t registered to vote yet.

I was wonderin’ if I was to come by on Sunday,

maybe you’d introduce me to ’em.

Hello, Mayor.

- Hello, Jessica. Doc. - Jessica.

It was so thoughtful of you to invite us, Helen.

Good of you to come. Dr. Hazlitt.

I never pass up a chance

to put my nose into a glass

of that homemade cider of yours, Helen.

Not to mention Lillian’s fabulous angel food cake.

Now, where is our birthday boy?

Yes, uh, where is Mr. Penroy?

Mr. Penroy was called away last night.

Well, it was yesterday afternoon, dear.

You mean, he’s not here?

Lillian means that the call came in yesterday afternoon.

Oh, dear. No bad news, I hope.

- A sick friend. - In Peoria.

No, dear, I’m sure he said Phoenix.

Anyway, he packed his bags

and caught the midnight bus for Augusta.

What a shame, the night before his birthday.

We thought of calling off the party,

but he said he wanted everybody to come and enjoy themselves.

Didn’t he, Lillian?

Yes, those were his last words.

I don’t suppose, uh,

he mentioned whether he got the chance to register to vote.

No. But he did say that his friend was very ill,

and that he might be gone for quite some time.

Well, he’s very lucky

to have such a good friend as Mr. Penroy.

Here, Winston. Here. Here. Come on. Winston. Ah, good boy.

Here, Winston. Come on. Good boy.

Oh, let me take these for you. Do have some cake.

- Thank you, Helen. Sure. - Thank you very much.

This sick friend sounds like a fish story to me.

Oh? Is that a little fillet of gossip that’s come your way?

Well, that romance I told you about may have turned sour.

Could be a simple case of cold feet.

Why, Seth Hazlitt, you ought to start

a gossip column in The Gazette.

Miss Appletree.

- Clyde. - Mrs. Fletcher.

Clyde, thank you for covering that postage due for me yesterday.

How much was it, three cents?

That’s right, three cents.

Ah, here you are, Miss Appletree.

Sale flyer from Comptons, a seed catalog for Miss Lillian,

Mr. Penroy’s pension check

and your electric bill, second notice.

Afraid I’ve got nothing smaller than a nickel.

I’ll put two cents in your mailbox tomorrow,

with a receipt.

Thank you.

Uh, Miss Appletree,

that cake sure looks mighty good.

Help yourself, Clyde, now that you’re here.

Excuse me, ladies.

May I help you?

I beg your pardon for intruding on such a festive occasion,

but is this the residence of Morris Penroy?

Yes.

My name is Smythe.

Reverend Wilfred Smythe, with an "e."

I’m an old friend of Mr. Penroy from Albany.

He wrote and invited me to stop by if ever I was in town.

Oh, I’m sorry, Reverend, but he’s out at the moment.

Oh, dear, I should have telephoned first.

When do you expect him back?

We don’t.

I beg your pardon?

Uh, he’s out of town.

He’s gone? When?

Last night.

But that can’t be.

I spoke to him--

I mean, I wrote him that I was coming.

He got a call from a sick friend.

Uh, Peoria or Phoenix. One of those places out West.

What a shame that you missed him.

How long are you going to be in town?

He’s going to be gone a long time.

But we’ll certainly tell him

that you were asking for him, Reverend,

when he gets back.

There was no message?

He really didn’t have time.

Does he know where to find you, Reverend Smythe?

No. Yes!

Well, I really mustn’t keep you.

So sorry to have missed him. Goodbye.

And bless you.

Well, more cake, anyone?

I don’t suppose it would be proper to open the presents.

Second notice on the electric bill,

$46 on the gas bill, and $328 on the real estate tax,

due since December.

Well, Mr. Penroy always endorsed his check over to us to cash for him.

And since he won’t be coming back,

he won’t need any of this.

Lillian, your handwriting is atrocious.

Besides, I’ve been practicing his signature.

What’s that?

Sounds like Mr. Penroy’s having a restless night.

Lillian, he’s... away.

Should we call Amos Tupper?

He’s away too.

And I don’t think it would be wise to call on that new man.

He’s not really one of us.

I think we better deal with this ourselves.

Oh, Sheriff Metzger.

I’m sorry about the hour, Mrs. Fletcher.

I hope I’m not interrupting your writing or anything.

No, no. I was just writing a few personal notes. Won’t you come in?

Oh, thanks.

Is something wrong?

Well, the last piece of advice Amos Tupper

gave me before he left was, uh,

if I had a serious problem or needed some help,

I should talk to you.

Oh, yes, of course.

I’ll do what I can to help.

Tupper left me the parking plans for the Founders Day picnic.

And frankly, Mrs. Fletcher, I’m stuck.

I-I can’t make out his handwriting.

Yes, well, actually,

I’ve always had trouble reading Amos’ handwriting.

But I think between the two of us,

we’ll be able to decipher it. Won’t you sit down?

Oh, thanks. Thanks. That’d be a big load off my mind.

Boy, my Adelle was sure right about you, Mrs. Fletcher.

I mean, she said you wouldn’t mind me imposing on you at all.

Oh. Oh, yes. I bumped into Adelle

in the market the other day. We had a nice chat.

Yeah. Yeah, Adelle’s very outgoing.

She always finds something interesting to talk about.

Oh, yes. She related some very amusing anecdotes.

I mean, her two years in the Marine Corps

must have been... well, quite broadening.

Oh, right. Yeah, and here we are now,

the missus and me, in this terrific little town.

You know, a month ago I was worryin’ about

gettin’ home on the subway without havin’ to break up a gang war.

Yeah, I don’t suppose Cabot Cove has had a gang war

since the Whiskey Rebellion of, uh... 1794.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, a place like this,

I feel like I’m stealin’ the money.

Yeah, yeah.

I wonder if we did the right thing last night, Helen.

Of course we did.

We couldn’t very well turn to that new sheriff, could we?

I mean, I hear he’s from New York City.

Yes. We really don’t know much about him, do we?

Might have been very awkward.

It’s just too bad that minister person

had to come poking around

asking questions about Mr. Penroy.

Reverend Smythe?

Let me tell you something, Lillian.

I went through his wallet last night,

and according to his identification,

his real name was Clifford Coleson.

He’s from some place in Massachusetts called Brockton.

I don’t think he’s a real minister at all.

Cabot Cove hasn’t been the same

since the tourists started coming.

Well, we better hurry, the bank will be opening.

- Oh, hello, Lillian. Helen. - Oh, hello.

You know, that was such a lovely party yesterday.

Too bad Mr. Penroy couldn’t have been there.

I felt that he was.

In spirit.

Yes. And it was a shame about his friend

who came from out of town to see him.

Reverend Smythe, I think it was.

He seemed a little upset to have missed Mr. Penroy.

He called last night, uh, Reverend Smythe,

to get the address of, uh, Mr. Penroy’s sick friend.

He said he was leaving immediately.

Yes.

He went to the same place as Mr. Penroy.

Excuse me.

Hello.

How would you like those bills? Same as always?

That would be fine.

Lovely warm weather we’ve been having.

Oh, yes. Just what you need for those Petunias you just planted.

There you go. $746, Miss Appletree.

Now, you ladies be careful with that when you go home.

Oh, and tell Mr. Penroy I said hello.

We will. Thank you, Sue.

Have a nice day, Sue. Bye, Jessica.

Bye. Morning, Sue. I’d like to make a deposit.

- Good morning, Sam. - Oh, mornin’, Jessica.

I see Winston’s got you out for a little exercise.

Yeah, I’ve been givin’ him some trainin’.

Uh, heel, Winston. Heel!

Well, we just got started.

It takes him a while to get the hang of things.

Winston. Winston!

Oh, uh, by the way, Jessica,

I've been meanin’ to ask you somethin’.

Uh, been havin’ some trouble linin’ up candidates

for the town council slate.

Sam. Sam, I have already served

three terms on the town council.

And with all of the traveling that I’ve been doing,

I really do think someone else should have that honor.

Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.

Been thinkin’ of askin’ Morris Penroy to run.

He’s only been here a year, but he’s a nice enough fella.

Folks seem to like him. And bein’ retired...

he’d be able to attend all those meetings.

Yes, Sam, I think that Morris Penroy

would be an excellent candidate.

Winston! Damn it, Winston!

Winston!

Winston! Winston!

Mr. Penroy’s always givin’ him a treat.

Come on, Winston.

Probably a bone buried in there.

Oh!

Yeah, that’s Morris Penroy, all right.

Been dead about, oh, 48 hours, I'd say.

From what, Doc?

Well, I didn’t see any signs of violence on him.

Well, you’re a doctor, aren’t ya?

How come you don’t know what killed him?

It could have been a lot of different things.

We’ll just have to wait for the coroner’s report, now, won’t we?

Poison?

Eh, that’s one possibility, yes.

By the way, I found this hangin’ on his neck.

Floyd, bag it.

I want that coroner’s report code blue. You got that, Doc?

All right, ladies, suppose you tell me

how Morris Penroy wound up buried in your flower bed.

How should we know? We were out shopping.

Shopping?

Doc says he’s been there a couple of days.

Then he must have come back from Peoria.

Phoenix. We’ll get you some refreshments.

Hey, now wait a minute--

Sheriff, perhaps the ladies might give a little more information...

if you were, well, a little more gentle.

Oh, you mean, less iron fist and more velvet glove.

- Oh, thanks. - You mentioned two days.

That means the body was there during the party.

Hey, that’s a good point. I’ll want the invitation list.

Hello.

Oh. Cider, Jessica?

Uh, no, not just now, Helen. Thank you.

Are you two all right?

This must have been the most terrible shock for you.

Yes, dreadful.

And a total surprise.

Oh, for all of us.

I mean, I didn’t know Mr. Penroy that well,

but he seemed like a very nice, cheerful sort of man.

I imagine that his loss may have a very special meaning for you.

Whatever do you mean, Jessica?

Well, this is a very small town,

and I had heard it mentioned that Mr. Penroy

was considering matrimony.

You could have knocked me over with a feather--

He never mentioned any such plan to us,

because we made it perfectly clear

that we would only rent to a retired bachelor gentleman.

Yes. Well, it just goes to show

it doesn’t pay to listen to idle gossip.

Oh, my, what lovely napkins.

You know, I’d give anything in the world

to be able to embroider like that.

Helen could show you, couldn’t you, dear?

Oh. That’s puzzling.

That’s the same design as the embroidery

on the tablecloth that was covering Mr. Penroy.

Well, I’m sure there’s some simple explanation.

We threw that away months ago.

Yes, months ago.

Uh, are you sure that there isn’t something

that you’d like to tell me?

I mean, I think it might be better if you told me...

rather than let Sheriff Metzger find out first.

Now that you mention it,

he is acting rather suspiciously, Jessica.

What Lillian means is that Mr. Metzger seems to suspect...

that we had something to do with Mr. Penroy’s death.

Really?

Yeah, well, uh, I suppose it’s, uh, not surprising.

You know, the, uh, body being found in your yard.

But, after all, it is his job

to get to the bottom of these things.

Jessica, we’ve known you for years,

but Mr. Metzger is practically a stranger.

Yeah, small town like this,

shouldn’t take long to get to the bottom of things.

That’s what we’re payin’ you for, Sheriff.

After 20 years in the Big Apple,

you start to develop a sixth sense about killers.

Good. But if you should get stuck anyplace,

you just ask Jessica Fletcher.

Yeah, you’re not the first one to tell me that.

Might be a good idea, Mr. Mayor,

for you to hang on to your dog’s leash.

He might mess up some evidence.

Oh, oh. Right.

Floyd, get Winston out of that flower bed!

All right, now, ladies. I want some answers.

You told everybody at the party that Penroy left town.

- He did. - Uh, would you like a cookie?

Now look, ladies. We can check with the phone company,

and we’re gonna be checkin’ with the bus company.

Now, if you ladies are lyin’ about this--

- Uh, Sheriff! - What is it, Floyd?

We found another one.

Found another what?

Another body, Sheriff. A minister!

No. No, I have not got the coroner’s report

on either body yet.

- Give me a hint. - For starters...

the minister’s chest has four deep stab wounds.

Four?

Soon as I get anything else, I’ll let you know.

Now look, ladies. I want some answers.

We have no idea why he was in our flower bed.

We never saw him before in our lives.

But, Lillian, you did see him before,

at the party.

Well, never before that.

And he wasn’t even a real minister.

Now wait. What do you mean, he wasn’t a minister?

Uh, Lillian means he didn’t look like a man of the cloth.

And he definitely did not come back to the house later.

All right.

Now look, we checked with the bus company.

Penroy was not on the midnight bus or any other bus.

And the phone company has no record of any

long-distance call coming into your phone during that week.

Now you’re not dealing with some hick cop here!

Either I get some answers or I’m takin’ the gloves off.

Well, if you’re going to raise your voice like that,

we’re not interested in continuing this conversation.

All right, that’s it.

Floyd, take ’em back and lock ’em up.

Excuse me, Sheriff.

I wouldn’t dream of interfering,

but, uh, are you filing formal charges?

I’m only holding ’em for questioning.

Floyd, bring ’em some coffee and sandwiches.

Look, I’m sorry, but I have known

the Appletree sisters since--well,

since I was a very young woman.

I can’t believe they’ve suddenly turned

into a couple of serial killers.

One thing you learn on the streets of New York:

you can’t judge by appearances.

I mean, it’s as plain as the nose on your face.

They’re lyin’ through their teeth.

Somehow, that sounds like a mixed metaphor,

but--but you’re right.

And it is a little disconcerting.

I mean, this business about them cashing Mr. Penroy’s check.

What?

Well, I was standing right next to them

in the bank when they did it.

I couldn’t help but notice.

Penroy’s pension check? When?

This morning. He’d endorsed it over to them.

But then Clyde delivered a pension check during the party.

But Penroy was already dead.

Well, I-I didn’t really get a good look at the date on the check.

I mean, it might have been a check

that he’d endorsed over to them earlier.

Lucky you remembered that, Mrs. Fletcher.

I’ll check with the bank

right after we’re through lookin’ around the house.

- Boston & Western railroad. - Huh?

Uh, Mr. Penroy seems to have retired about a year ago.

Well, that’s where, uh,

Penroy’s pension checks were coming from.

Well, well, well. Look at this.

Now, didn’t those little old ladies

tell us that Penroy packed his bags

and then caught the bus? Right?

So how come they’re still here in the closet?

Yeah, there does seem to be an inconsistency there.

Yeah. No doubt about it.

I had a case like this down in the Village.

Lady picked up a sailor in a bar,

then killed him for his shore pay

and buried his body down in the cellar.

I’m gonna take a look downstairs.

Uh, Sheriff, don’t you think you should have--

Have a search warrant for all of this?

Hey, you don’t need a search warrant

to go over the scene of a crime for evidence. Trust me.

But you don’t know for sure that this is the scene of a crime.

Two bodies found on the premises?

It’s close enough for government work.

Oh, wow, look at this. Every penny accounted for.

Adelle should run our place like this.

Although it looks like they were

payin’ their bills with mirrors.

Sheriff, look at this.

Four stab wounds?

Looks like we just found ourselves a murder weapon.

Yes, ma’am, can I help you?

Is this the residence of Morris Penroy?

- Yes, it is. - Is he here?

No.

Oh, if it’s okay,

I think I’ll just wait inside.

Uh-uh...

it might be a very long wait.

You mind if I ask you what your connection to Penroy is?

Oh, didn’t I mention it?

I’m Marilee Penroy, Morris Penroy’s wife.

Wife?

How do you do?

I’m Jessica Fletcher,

and this is Sheriff Metzger.

Oh, charmed, I’m sure.

Say, is anything wrong?

I’m afraid we’re...

we’re at a double loss, Mrs. Penroy.

You see, we were under the impression

that Mr. Penroy was a bachelor.

Oh. We were married a little over a year ago.

Uh, before he came to Cabot Cove.

Well, I’m afraid we have very bad news.

I’m sorry to have to inform you this way,

but, uh, your husband’s dead.

Morris is dead?

Murdered, right here.

Well, Mrs. Penroy seems to have recovered.

She’s resting quietly at her hotel.

I told you something fishy was going on here.

I knew we never should have rented to him.

Doc, would you say that this is the murder weapon?

Uh, I suppose it could be.

Well, is it or isn’t it?

Depends on what the coroner’s report says.

I’m waiting for his call any minute.

But even if it is the murder weapon,

we don’t really know who used it.

That’s right, Sheriff. You can’t prove a thing.

There are no fingerprints on that. Helen wore gloves.

Don’t say anything more, dear,

till he reads us our rights,

like on TV.

Sheriff?

Bart Klapper,

special investigator for the Boston & Western Railroad.

I’m aware of the double homicide you uncovered this morning,

and, uh, I have information which bears on the case.

You haven’t, by any chance, recovered the money?

Money? What money?

The money taken in the armed robbery

of the Boston & Western baggage car.

Five million dollars.

Uh, now wait a minute.

What-what did you say your name was?

My card, Sheriff. Special investigator Bart Klapper.

Yeah, well, Mr. Klapper, I’m kinda new here.

I don’t know anything about any armed robbery.

Well, a year ago in Boston, uh, three armed men in ski masks

overpowered the clerk in the baggage car...

and got off with five mil

destined for the massapequa bank.

That’s right. It was in all the papers.

Yeah.

Yes, ma’am.

Bart Klapper never gives up on a railroad robbery.

I even know who pulled off the heist.

Daryl Croft, four arrests for car theft, the driver.

Ole Korshack, served three years for armed robbery, the muscle.

Clifford Coleson, numerous arrests for fraud,

Bunco Gamling, no convictions, the brains.

Yeah. That’s our preacher fella, all right.

Problem is, we’ve had no hard evidence till now.

So what does all this have to do with Cabot Cove?

Well the bills were all brand new,

consecutive serial numbers,

hotter than a two-dollar pistol.

I figure they had to stash the stuff somewhere

and wait for it to cool off.

So when they all converged on Cabot Cove,

I knew they were gathering for the split.

Oh, dear.

And Mr. Penroy worked for the Boston & Western.

That’s right, ma’am. He was the baggage clerk.

I always suspected an inside job.

So you’re saying Penroy was the keeper of the loot?

There must have been a falling out among thieves.

Daryl Croft and, uh, Ole Korshack

must have killed Penroy and Coleson...

and buried them in Penroy’s back yard.

The only thing wrong with that theory

is Morris Penroy died of a massive heart attack.

He wasn’t murdered at all.

That was the coroner’s office on the phone.

Oh, I’m sorry, but this doesn’t make any sense.

I mean, why would Mr. Penroy conceal his marriage?

Penroy wasn’t married.

Well, Marilee Penroy thinks otherwise.

Marilee? Blonde bimbo? Mouth like a stevedore?

She wasn’t Penroy’s wife.

She was married to Cliff Coleson.

A marriage made in purgatory.

Sheriff, can we go home now?

Uh, yes, ma’am.

I’m sorry, ladies, I-I guess I had

this caper figured out all wrong.

Well, the important thing, Sheriff,

is that neither Ole or Croft has left town,

which means they haven’t got their hands on the money yet.

Floyd, get out an A.P.B. on these guys.

We’re gonna grab ’em before they get a chance to leave.

I don’t know.

Something about that man sets my teeth on edge.

Mr. Klapper from the railroad?

No, Sheriff Metzger.

Well, uh, I suppose he was only doing his job.

I mean, there were some small inconsistencies

in what you told him.

Since they already know

that Mr. Penroy died of natural causes,

I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling Jessica the truth.

Well, it was after Mr. Penroy came back from his walk.

He was in an especially expansive mood.

Very pleased with himself indeed.

It crossed my mind that he might

have been drinking, but there was nothing on his breath.

He let it drop that he was expecting

to come into some money.

And then he made the most shocking proposition.

He proposed to Helen.

He apparently had totally misunderstood my kindness to him.

Helen set him straight in no uncertain terms.

And that’s when he had the heart attack.

But good heavens,

why on earth did you bury him in the backyard?

Well, we-we’d come to rely on the rent money he was paying us.

I mean, after what happened,

we certainly wouldn’t want to let another man under our roof.

Yes, but surely you realized--

And there wouldn’t have been any problem

if that wretched minister person wouldn’t have come

poking around, asking questions.

Well, I hardly--

Dare ask what happened to him.

We don’t really know.

We heard a noise upstairs. Someone was prowling around.

Whoever you are in there,

you better leave or--or we’ll call the police.

And what happened?

Well, whoever it was

must have left through the window.

I suppose it was that minister person.

We heard him call from down in the yard.

Yes, it was some kind of an oath.

I heard a voice say, "holy" - but he never finished it.

Lillian’s memory isn’t what it used to be.

I’m sure what he said was somebody’s name.

I think it was Foley.

The Foleys moved away from Cabot Cove in 1948, dear.

Well--

Uh, could it have been Ole?

Might have been. But I think it was Foley.

Anyway, after a while, we went outside,

and we found him

with our tine fork stuck in his chest...

near the foot of the ladder.

After everything that had gone on,

we thought it best to just bury him quietly

and not bother that new sheriff.

It was my idea to burn the tine fork.

Of course. Somebody was looking for the money.

And if what Mr. Klapper says is true,

Mr. Penroy was involved in the robbery.

Probably so, because his room had been ransacked.

Of course, we straightened it up again.

And was anything missing?

Think.

Now this is very important.

Only his collection.

His collection?

Of railway baggage claim checks.

From all over the country. He was very proud of it.

He kept it in a case.

It was gone when we straightened up.

Mr. Penroy apparently

had a great deal of money hidden away somewhere.

Those baggage claim checks possibly might have

something to do with where it’s hidden.

I really must run along.

Thank you so much for the refreshments.

But, Jessica, you didn’t finish your cider.

- Hey! - Where is it, Ole?

I don’t know, Daryl. Swear to God.

Look, I was afraid to go near the place.

I figured maybe you got it.

Just don’t you forget that we’re still partners.

Hey, look, I-I’d never cross you, Daryl. Honest.

I’m sure that you wouldn’t...

’cause that would be very stupid,

even for you, huh?

Cause now it’s only a two-way split.

Let me tell you--

Freeze, suckers!

Easy, son, or I’ll cut you a new belly button.

I think "crime wave" is two words, Floyd.

Oh, hi, Mrs. Fletcher. I guess you heard, huh?

Heard? Heard what?

I collared ’em both about a half an hour ago.

Daryl Croft and Ole Korshack. Got ’em locked up in the back.

Oh, that was very fast, Sheriff.

Couple of very dangerous types, Mrs. Fletcher.

Frankly, you folks were lucky I was here to deal with them.

Well, that’s certainly true, Sheriff.

What I wanted to tell you is

that I have just been having a word with Lillian and Helen.

Now, they heard a voice outside in the yard just about the time

that Mr. Coleson was killed.

They said they heard him call out a name.

- It sounded like Ole. - Ole Korshack.

And another thing. Mr. Penroy had a collection--

Oh, don’t you worry anymore about Mr. Penroy.

I got this one signed, sealed and delivered.

Oh, you mean, you found the money?

Not yet. But I will soon.

Well, I certainly don’t want to pour cold water on your arrests,

but, uh, without the money, it seems to me

you haven’t got very much to hold those two men on.

Oh, trust me, Mrs. Fletcher. I’ve had years of experience

dealing with slimeballs like them.

Faced with a murder-one rap, they’ll cough up

the location of that money like a baby with the colic.

Hey, I’ll bet there’s even a reward for that money.

Floyd, call that railroad company.

Oh, I doubt that they know anything about it.

Don’t worry. I’ll squeeze it out of ’em.

Yeah, hang on.

It’s Sheriff Metzger callin’ from Cabot Cove.

Yeah, Sheriff Mort Metzger speaking.

Yes, uh, your special investigator,

uh, Bart Klapper suggested I get in touch with you...

concerning the robbery in Boston last year.

What’s this?

Doc Hazlitt found that around Penroy’s neck.

Say, you think that could be

the key to a safe-deposit box or somethin’?

No, I don’t think it looks like a safe-deposit key.

Thanks.

They’re offering 10% reward for the recovery of the loot.

Golly. That’s half a million dollars.

How exciting. I mean, if you find the money.

Funny thing is,

they said Bart Klapper doesn’t work for them anymore.

This may a bit obvious, but, uh,

you know, this key looks like one I have for an old trunk.

Yeah. Maybe too obvious.

But it sure is worth checking.

Can you imagine Mr. Penroy being part of a railway gang

and never letting on a word to us?

It’s a good thing you remembered this trunk we stored away for him down here.

Now let’s see.

- Try this, dear. - Thank you, Lillian.

Oh, this is so exciting!

Land o’ Goshen! Look at that!

We’ll be able to pay the electric bill now.

They’re all so new. They’re brand new!

Oh, that’s all right.

We’ll run it through the washing machine

like the gangsters do on television.

Lillian, I don’t see any reason to mention this to Jessica.

No, it’ll just be our little secret.

What are you doing in our house?

I’ve been keeping an eye on your place all afternoon.

And when I saw you come down here to the cellar,

I figured you must be up to something.

We found this.

So if there’s any reward, it belongs to us.

Is there a reward?

Oh, yes, there’s a reward, all right.

But it’s for the return of the money.

And somehow I don’t think the Boston & Western’s

ever gonna see that money again.

You mean, you’re going to steal it after we found it?

It’s an imperfect world, ladies. We all have our weaknesses.

We’ll tell Sheriff Metzger!

No. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.

- Aah! - Hold it!

Right there, Klapper.

Oh, hello, Lee. Oh, hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

Are you leaving?

I guess there’s nothing to keep me here anymore.

Yes, isn’t it exciting?

Sheriff Metzger finding all that money

and arresting Bart Klapper for Mr. Coleson’s murder.

You know, isn’t it something?

I mean, here’s a guy who’s working for the railroad.

And he kills two men and tries to rip off the money.

Oh, he didn’t kill Mr. Penroy, Lee.

I hope you don’t mind me calling you Lee?

With a name like Marilee? Lee’s shorter.

All my friends call me Lee. Say, how did you know?

Oh, I--the monogram of the letter "l"

that you wear. I just guessed.

So it was that crooked railroad cop who got Cliff?

Mm-hmm.

Sheriff Metzger caught him red-handed,

about to murder the Appletree sisters too.

Apparently, he took some checks

from Mr. Penroy’s room when he killed Mr. Coleson.

As soon as Sheriff Metzger finds them,

that’ll be the final link in the evidence.

Oh, I don’t think he’ll ever find the baggage claim checks.

Klapper probably would have burned them.

Oh? Is that what you did with them?

Me? I didn’t know about them until you told me about them.

I said "checks." You said "baggage claim checks."

I didn’t get a chance to tell Sheriff Metzger that.

No, I’m afraid there’s only one way that you’d know that.

Me? Why would I kill Cliff Coleson?

Perhaps because he’d run out on you?

I understand it hadn’t been a very happy marriage.

Oh, wait a minute.

I told you I was married to Penroy.

I know that’s what you said.

But you see, someone heard poor Mr. Coleson

call out your name just before he was murdered.

I suspect you knew the money was about to be split up.

You probably followed him up here to Cabot Cove.

Mr. Coleson found the collection

of claim checks in Mr. Penroy’s room.

He probably thought it was a clue

to where the money was hidden.

I suspect that you were waiting at the bottom of the ladder.

A very unpleasant surprise.

Oh, Lee!

He called out your name, Lee.

You saw the case and thought that he’d found the money.

It must have taken a great deal of rage and frustration

to do what you did.

Being married to Cliff

was like being on a burning roller coaster.

He was up, he was down.

He was always in trouble with the law.

And when h-he finally made his one big, beautiful score,

he left me.

The money was my only hope.

I wasn’t about to let him get away with that.

You understand, don’t you?

Adelle Metzger came to me this morning with

the worse case of laryngitis I think I’ve ever seen.

Hard to picture Adelle not being able to talk.

My theory is she got it yelling at Metzger.

Seth.

Well, she must have been as mad as a hornet

when the Boston & Western ruled that the reward

was going to the Appletree sisters.

Well, fortunately they returned the money

from Mr. Penroy’s check, and Sheriff Metzger

was nice enough not to press charges against them.

Just a case of saving the taxpayer money.

Any smart lawyer would have gotten ’em off easy

due to diminished mental capacity.

You know, I suspect that there’s not much wrong

with Lillian and Helen’s mental capacity, Seth.

I was talkin’ about Metzger.