All language subtitles for MrSWr518 00000

My aim’s so bad, I might not be able to miss.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

What do you want?

Murder is a solution to a problem found

only in cheap thrillers-- The kind you write.

If I accept that check, I’m condoning what’s happened here.

Pull!

The way I see it, I’ve just come up with my killer.

- How far you gonna go? - Jump in and find out.

I’m very much afraid that we’re about to have another murder.

What’s that for?

The final payment, as specified in your contract.

You know I can’t take that.

Look, Robert, you’ve done a marvelous job organizing the material.

The family’s very grateful to you for everything you’ve done.

Maria, if I accept that check, I’m condoning what’s happened here.

- I’m sorry. - Look, this has been a friendly project.

Don’t spoil it now, please. I can understand your feelings.

Then I guess you’ll understand what I’m planning to do about it.

Did you know about this?

If it’s about business, that’s a really dumb question.

- Look, can we talk? Alone? - I’m busy right now.

- Well, later? - I’ve got a lot of things to do today.

Yeah, sure. Let me know.

Do I sense that things have cooled down?

Way down. He turned out to be another boring writer.

Talk to him. Find out what he wants. Be nice to him.

How nice would you suggest, mother?

After all, there is my husband to consider.

Yes, well, that would be a first.

Listen, Cat, your own interests are at stake here,

as well as your grandfather’s reputation.

You surprise me. Not even a mention of money.

Welcome to Montana Springs airport.

Also serving the communities of Bow Mountain,

Massacre Ridge, and Custer Creek.

We hope you’ve enjoyed your flight and will fly with us again real soon.

Smell that fresh air.

I’m not sure my lungs are going to be able to stand it for three whole days.

- Do you have a match, Jessica? - Uh, no, I’m sorry. I don’t.

- Will you watch my bag for me, please? - Oh, sure.

- Hey, Jess. - Bob!

- Good to see you. - Oh, me too.

I almost gave up on you.

Well, we were an hour late leaving Billings.

I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to make it

to Custer Creek in time for that ceremony.

Well, now, you know that’s not the reason I came.

What’s wrong, Bob? You sounded so urgent on the phone.

Where’s Dorothy Westerfield? Wasn’t she with you?

Oh, yes, yes. She ducked inside to get a match

to light her cigarette.

- Did she say anything to you? - About what?

Uh, we’ll talk later.

Not only is there no smoking on their planes,

there are no matches in their terminals.

- Robert, my true love. - Hi, Dorothy.

Tell me that’s our ride into town. I was half expecting a stagecoach.

Well, a stagecoach might be a lot more comfortable

than my rented compact. I wasn’t sure that you two had met.

What, the publisher of Trevor Hudson’s posthumous masterpiece

not know the chairwoman of the Trevor Hudson literary foundation?

Impossible, darling. Besides, I know everybody.

She does.

When was it we met? I think it was the booksellers’ convention

in Dallas three years ago. I chased her around shamelessly.

Tried to woo her away from old what’s-his-name.

Now, tell me, darling, are we going to make it to this ceremony or not?

- No, I’m afraid not. - Oh, good. I hate outdoor speeches.

The microphones never work.

Hello. One, two, three, four.

Can you hear me now?

Can you hear me?

For those of you that don’t know me, I’m Barney Drake,

Trevor Hudson’s grandson-in-law.

We are here today to celebrate the great honor

our government has bestowed

upon an acknowledged literary genius, Trevor Hudson.

Although this great man has been dead less than a year,

congressional legislation has made it possible

for a commemorative United States postage stamp

bearing his likeness to go on sale,

starting today, all over this great land of ours.

Andy? Andrew?

Get up there, Andy.

The engraving for the stamp

was taken from this portrait of Trevor Hudson

done by his son, Andrew.

Andy.

That’s beautiful.

Looks just like old grizzly, don’t it?

- I wish he’d painted him in a necktie. - Pop didn’t own a necktie.

Uh, also present are Trevor Hudson’s daughters,

Maria and Olivia.

Uh, my wife, Catherine Hudson, better known to you moviegoers as Cat,

uh, had hoped to be here, too.

Unfortunately, she had a previous engagement

she just couldn’t break, and she sends her regrets.

- Need a ride? - How far you gonna go?

Jump in and find out.

Publicity-wise, that stamp thing was a gift from God.

Been busting my butt to get the media to come out to the sticks.

You swore that J.B. Fletcher and Dot Westerfield would be there.

Their plane was late. You know these rinky-dink connector flights.

Oh, yeah? What flight was your daughter on?

- She missed out on network coverage. - Where the hell was she, Maria?

The day you married Catherine, Barney, keeping tabs on her capricious behavior

ceased to be my responsibility and became yours.

Now, can we get on the subject of Bob Jarrett?

What about him? Cat said that was over.

We’re speaking about different matters.

I don’t care whom she sleeps with. I do care that Jarrett has reneged.

- He can’t. - Reneged? What exactly does that mean?

So you are paying attention, Andrew. Excellent!

I wasn’t sure whether you were bored, indifferent, or merely asleep.

I have found, dear sister, that whenever you decide

to play admiral of the fleet, it is best to keep one’s mouth shut,

unless it becomes absolutely necessary to open it.

Now, what about Jarrett? I thought we had a contract.

We do. But Jarrett doesn’t seem to care very much about that.

In fact, he’s threatened to pull this house down around our heads.

- He may go public. - Oh, great.

I spend two months setting up Time and Newsweek,

maybe even for a cover.

One word from Jarrett, we’ll get a cover, all right.

Now, wouldn’t that be something, Maria?

The progeny of Trevor Hudson having to find jobs,

after all these years. Imagine.

Come in.

- Give you a thousand dollars for a match. - I’m sorry.

I would have called down for one, but there’s no phone in my room.

Can you imagine?

Well, Trev Hudson couldn’t stand telephones.

Bob told me the only telephone in the house is in the kitchen,

and that was installed after Trev got sick.

Oh, though I hate wilderness. Pardon me. I just took a nap.

I haven’t even started to unpack.

So, tell me, Jessica,

how long have you known dear, sweet Robert?

Well, he was this brilliant young editor that I met through my publisher.

Which is why you suggested him for the editing job

of Trev Hud’s final opus. Makes sense to me.

You know, you are the first chairwoman of the Trevor Hudson literary foundation

that’s actually done anything to merit the title.

Well, they needed an editor, so I stuck in my two cents.

I, for one, am glad you did. He’s done a marvelous job.

- Oh, have you read it? - Galley proofs.

I brought a set with me. I can lend them to you.

You’re gonna love it.

It’s so touching and sensitive.

Really? That doesn’t sound like the Trevor Hudson that I knew.

One critic said about his books,

"They have the cutting edge of a diamond with none of the warmth."

Well, it is the first book he ever wrote while he was dying.

Seems like a good time to give up smoking.

You know, that’s a marvelous idea. Why don’t you do it?

Just because I can’t find a match?

That is the coward’s way out. I’m going to search this house.

Pull.

Damn fine shootin’, Livvy.

Old grizzly hisself couldn’t have done any better.

That’s not the truth, Hank, and you know it. But thanks.

Livvy!

Jessica! When did you get here? How are you?

A few minutes before the rest of you got back from the post office.

I came back in another car. Oh, meet Hank Masters.

- Hank, this is Jessica Fletcher. - Pleasure.

When pop wrote his book about Maine, he rented a house near Jessica’s.

Yeah, and spent six weeks draining me

of every down east anecdote I’d ever heard.

You then would have been Harriet Shaw, the schoolmarm in green forest trilogy.

Oh, you’re onto me.

And I believe you popped up quite a few times in Trev’s writings.

Yeah, well, him and me were real close, ma’am.

Like brothers, I guess. We understood each other real well.

- Would you like to have a go at this? - Oh, no. No, thank you.

Guns and I have always been total strangers,

and I’d like to keep it that way.

I don’t suppose you’ve seen Bob Jarrett around?

Ask Maria. She usually knows where everybody is.

She should have been a house detective.

- Well, the trick is to find Maria. - Oh, try Andrew’s studio.

She said that she’d pick out the paintings for his New York gallery show.

- Oh, that was nice. - Think so? Andrew’s a big boy.

He’s old enough to pick out his own paintings.

- Livvy, we’re gonna lose that sun. - Maybe we can get together before dinner,

- have us a chat. - I’d love to. See you.

Now, you get on that thing. I’ll show you some shootin’.

Pull!

Jessica, in here, quickly.

Pull!

Oh, this has to be Trevor Hudson’s study.

And mine until I finish correcting the galleys.

Why have you been so mysterious? I’ve been looking for you.

I needed to make sure that Maria was out of the house first.

- Have you read the book yet? - No. No.

Dorothy said she’d let me have the galleys.

It’s good. I mean, it is really good.

The central character’s a writer who’s out of touch with his family.

But he’s dying, so he actually begins to care about the people who love him,

until he’s no longer unconnected and remote.

- Well, that sounds like Trevor Hudson. - I want you to see something.

The 400-page Trevor Hudson manuscript that I was paid to edit and pull together

actually consisted of these ten pages of notes.

Uh, but this can’t be all there was.

And...

these disjointed ramblings in Maria’s handwriting.

Half-coherent reminiscences that, uh,

supposedly were dictated to her when he was dying.

I mean, dry, meaningless scribbling about a dog he had

and a hunting trip with Hank Masters and Livvy.

That’s what I had to work with.

That’s it.

Don’t you understand, Jessica?

The best thing that Trevor Hudson never wrote

is the best thing that I ever wrote.

And now I need to decide whether I should expose it as a literary fraud.

I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about this earlier.

Because I didn’t know where you fit in.

Me? Well, you can’t think that I would be party to--

I know I misunderstood,

but I assumed that since you’d become worldly and, and successful--

I can’t, I can’t believe what you’re telling me.

Jessica, look, you were the chairperson at the foundation.

You recommended me for the job.

All of a sudden I find this, and Maria’s making all sorts of demands.

I mean, how was I supposed to know who was involved?

Oh, I’m sorry.

I’ve been so...

so confused and then--

Look, I finally did call you, didn’t I?

Yes, you did, and a darned good thing, too.

But what I still can’t understand is why you didn’t just walk away.

I keep asking myself the same thing.

I guess I just kind of got seduced by the Trevor Hudson legend--

Wanted to be seduced by it.

I wanted a story to be in these few pages.

And, of course, there was always Cat.

Oh, now, you’re not going to tell me that Cat helped you to write the book.

In her own way, yeah.

I mean, her husband, Barney, was always off at the West Coast

trying to build up her career. He’s a star maker with one star.

And she stayed home here with you.

It doesn’t sound to me as if she’s out of your system.

I don’t think she ever will be.

Cat?

- What do you want? - You weren’t at the post office.

I forgot.

Where were you all day?

All sorts of places.

Alone?

I had company, all right?

- Jarrett? - Why not Jarrett?

He was a career move, you said. Be nice to him, you said.

No, it wouldn’t have been Jarrett. Jarrett had to go to the airport

to pick up Dorothy Westerfield and Jessica Fletcher.

- Who did you pick up? - Uh, I don’t know.

I’ve never been good at names.

- Oh, geez. I’m sorry. - Get out. Get out!

It wasn’t that hard. I’m sorry. It won’t leave a mark.

Stupid little man! Get away from me!

No, look. Listen to me.

- I got you a deal. - I don’t care about a deal!

A movie deal! A really first-class project.

This is not one of those cheapie quickies.

Name above the title. Maybe even director approval.

Is that somethin’ or what, huh?

I gotta fly up to Cheyenne and meet with Mel Styles.

He’s on location there.

I’ll come back in the morning.

Take your time, all right?

I should be outta here already.

Just my luck, rubber band airways

will be on schedule for the first time in its history.

Better not be lyin’ to me, Barney.

Why would I lie to you, babe?

- Oh, to get even maybe. - For what?

I forgot it already. I swear to God.

I just want to do something nice for you, kitty Cat.

You’re beautiful, you know that?

You should have the best.

I want you to get what you deserve.

Are you sure you want to go public with this?

What other choice do I have?

Well, I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.

I mean, not everyone will believe you. The press can be vicious.

They’ll accuse you of trying to further your own career

at the expense of a literary giant who can’t fight back.

- Yeah, but that’s not true. - I know it’s not true.

But when it comes to selling newspapers,

the truth is not always an issue.

Hello, you two.

I hate to break up a reunion, but, um, I need to ask

a few questions about the galleys, Robert. Do you suppose--

Uh, Maria, I showed Jessica the office, the notes and the files.

For heaven sakes, you’re not gonna start that again, are you?

Jessica, I hope you don’t believe any of this.

I have too much respect for my father’s memory - we all do -

to allow some fraud to be perpetrated.

Oh, yes. Yes, I’m sure. But, well, uh--

Oh, my goodness, Maria. Bob had so little to go on.

I mean, just enough for an essay or a short story.

You too, Jessica? Those were only the written notes.

There were others I committed to memory,

the wealth of things my father told me

when he couldn’t write any longer.

You remember how he could talk. He was a spellbinder.

Oh, yes, I do remember.

But I don’t understand why you didn’t tape everything that he said.

Oh, my father never used a tape recorder.

I don’t think there was one in the house.

No?

No, that’s not his.

Couldn’t quite make out what it was.

Maybe a bear.

Could have been a bear. The place smelled bad.

Reminded me of this place in Nigeria.

You recognize his voice, don’t you, Jessica?

- Yes. - I didn’t know.

I couldn’t leave his side and go searching.

He was dying, and he had so much to say.

You see where she’s coming from, don’t you?

She can smell a best seller, but only if Trevor Hudson’s name is on the title page.

That is a despicable lie.

You’re trying to steal my father’s book and call it your own.

Well, you’re not gonna get away with it, my young friend.

Not while I have anything to say about it.

This could get rather nasty.

Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Andrew, I’ve been meaning to compliment you

on this remarkable portrait.

You’ve captured that look I remember, oh, so well.

Yes, manly adventurer.

Killer of deer and elephants and other unarmed beasts.

That macho business was a facade.

Under the show of strength was the uncertainty

of a man who had designed his own image and wasn’t sure he could live up to it.

Andrew, that’s absolute twaddle.

There was nothing phony about Trevor Hudson.

I didn’t say he was phony. Thank you.

Speaking of phonies, is anyone but me

not surprised that Mr. Robert Jarrett did not join us for supper this evening?

Maria’s been filling me in.

Dorothy, I wouldn’t jump to conclusions until I’d heard every side of this.

Oh, come on. That ambitious, egotistical proofreader.

I mean, how dare he say that the greatest author of our century

did not write his own masterpiece?

Spoken like an unbiased publisher.

Why don’t you save your caustic wit for a more appropriate occasion, Andrew?

And what would that be, sister?

The second coming of Trevor Hudson?

I thought that was the subject under discussion.

Well, now, folks, since we’re gathered here

in front of Andy’s great picture of his pa,

why don’t we all drink to old grizzly?

Don’t be shocked, Mrs. Fletcher. That was my nickname for him.

- His nickname for me was-- - Hank.

Not fit for mixed company.

I’d go easy on that stuff if I were you.

Just because it’s expensive doesn’t mean it’s not gonna knock you on your keister.

Well, that sounds like somethin’ he’d say.

Here’s mud in your eye, you old polecat.

Oh, cut the crap, everybody!

Can’t you all hear yourselves?

Just a whole lot of talk nobody wants to hear,

because we’re all waiting around to find out

if Bobby Jarrett is gonna screw up our lives.

And I guess the big question is,

if he tries, what are we gonna do about it?

Bob?

My, you can see where he was hit, hard.

He couldn’t have survived that blow.

Nobody touched anything, Mrs. Fletcher?

No. Everything is as it was when I found him.

- And what time was that? - Oh, it was a little after midnight.

- Doc? - Well, by the look of him,

couldn’t have been dead more than an hour.

Anybody hear or see anything?

I didn’t. I went to bed early.

Well, I spoke to Robert at about 9:30.

He was gonna wait for everybody to go to bed,

and then spend the rest of the night working on the galley proofs.

I heard something down by the stable.

I thought it must have been coyote after the chickens.

Was it?

I searched the grounds. I didn’t see anything.

Chickens didn’t raise a fuss.

Forgive my curiosity, Livvy, but, uh, what were you doing outside in the dark?

Looking after a sick filly in the stable.

Well, it seems pretty clear to me that Jarrett surprised somebody

who was set to rob this place and got bashed for his trouble.

That’s probably what you heard, Livvy.

Maybe.

You can see where the killer broke in.

Smashed this pane to open the latch.

That must have been the sound that I heard.

Yeah. Grabbed the first thing that caught his eye and took off fast.

Excuse me.

You’ll probably find something missing,

aside from that fancy French gold award that was on the desk

and one of the rifles from that rack.

Yes, I’m afraid you’re right, Sheriff.

The killer also took the file folder with Trevor Hudson’s notes for the book.

Well, now, why’d he do that?

Sheriff, could I talk to you alone?

Uh, folks, uh, I’m gonna need statements from all of you.

So why don’t y’all just go on into the living room

and make up some coffee or whatever?

Uh, I’ll be with you directly.

Sheriff, I think we both know that this was not the work of a burglar.

- Ma’am? - Everyone here tonight knew

that Rob Jarrett was going to make a public statement about writing the book.

I’m sure he was killed to stop him.

Have you got anything to back that up?

Well, the missing notes, for one thing.

I mean, they couldn’t possibly be of any interest to an ordinary burglar.

But they might have helped prove Bob’s case.

Well, I don’t much hold with guesswork.

Now, Maria let me read what they call the galley proofs.

And I’m here to tell you that old grizzly wrote every blessed word.

And I oughta know. Part of it was about me.

Yes, I know. I mean, some of the missing notes

were about one of your hunting trips.

But there just weren’t enough to make a book,

let alone one as sweeping and detailed as The Valley Beyond.

Writin’ ain’t my business, but wouldn’t Bob Jarrett

have had to work from some kind of outline?

- Did he show you that? - No. No, he didn’t.

And if there was one, it was stolen, too, for the same reason.

You ain’t gonna give up on it, are you?

Well, look, you do what you will. I’ve got a killer to catch.

A stranger stands out in this part of the country.

We’ll find him.

Me and my boys move quick, and we can cover a lot of territory.

I’m really sorry, Jessica. I liked Bob Jarrett a lot,

and I don’t like most people.

I got that from my dad. He didn’t like me very much.

Oh, Andy, you’re exaggerating.

It’s true. I was more interested in pastels than pistols.

I’m surprised that Livvy didn’t spend more time with him before he died.

Well, Livvy had the ranch to run.

Well, that must be why Maria as with him so much.

Maria hardly ever stayed with him.

She was supervising the book and trying to hold the estate together.

Oh, they both spelled me from time to time--

Cat, too, when she was around--

But mostly, it was just dad and me.

We sort of came to an understanding before the end.

And did--did he ever talk about the book that he was writing?

He didn’t talk much at all.

He just lay there and held my hand, afraid to let go of life.

He was scared of his own mortality and weakened by his illness.

Look.

Bob’s death has made me face up to something.

The fact is, in his state,

my father couldn’t have written his own name.

I’m glad I don’t have to testify to that.

I’d hate to have to make a liar out of Maria.

I saw one of Hank Master’s deputies at the airport.

He told me what happened. I couldn’t believe it.

It’s true, Barney.

Bob Jarrett was murdered in dad’s office.

Mrs. Fletcher, I know how close you were. I’m sorry.

Thank you, Barney.

Barney, I’m so glad you’re back.

You okay?

Yeah. I get so scared every time I think about

being alone in that cabin last night when there was a killer

breaking in the lodge.

I know, I know. I should have been here.

But everything’s okay now. Barney’s here.

Excuse us.

- Jessica. - Oh, Maria. Good morning.

I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.

- Poor Robert. What a dreadful thing. - Yes.

Well, I’m sure Hank will find the man who did it.

Oh, was it a man?

Well, thief, intruder, whatever.

Look, Jessica, Robert’s death was tragic.

Maybe more so because it leaves so many questions unanswered.

But perhaps that’s just as well.

Maria, if you’re suggesting that the authorship

of The Valley Beyond is a closed issue, I’m sorry, but I disagree.

Don’t be a fool. First of all, Robert is lying.

But even if you’re so gullible as to believe his story,

are you really prepared to go public? With what?

A dead man’s spurious, unprovable claim?

- Where’s your evidence? - Conveniently missing.

Which is why I’m convinced that the sheriff is looking

in the wrong place for the killer.

One of us? Well, I hardly think so.

Murder is a solution to a problem found only in cheap thrillers--

The kind you write.

One thing I’ve learned, Maria,

there’s nothing that a person is incapable of

if the motive is strong enough. Excuse me.

Jessica...

for your own well-being, leave it alone.

I can’t.

Not only did my recommendation put Bob Jarrett in this situation,

he was my friend.

I’ll tell you one thing: if I’d seen that intruder last night,

there’d be somebody else dead this morning instead of Bob.

Livvy, you told Hank that you heard something outside the barn,

- perhaps a coyote. - It wasn’t though.

That was about the same time that I saw the shadow of someone

moving toward Cat’s cabin.

Yesterday, Bob told me that he and Cat were friendly.

Cat’s been known to be friendly with anything in pants, including Bob.

- For a while anyway. - But then it ended?

Or did it?

Her husband was out of town, Bob was leaving in the next day or two.

You’re stalkin’ the wrong bear. Cat wasn’t alone.

- Her husband was home. - Oh, you saw Barney?

I saw his car when I was out looking for the intruder.

Come to think of it, though, it wasn’t parked at their cabin.

It was down by one of the other outbuildings.

Huh. Wonder why.

Well, perhaps no one was supposed to see it.

Thank you, Livvy.

Excuse me, miss Livvy, Mrs. Fletcher.

The sheriff would like to see you both in the house.

Now, if you don’t mind.

His name’s Adam Perry, according to his driver’s license.

Is this the intruder who was on the grounds last night?

I told you, I didn’t see anyone.

I just heard something move past the barn.

Jessica saw him. Well, he was more shadow than substance.

I’m afraid I really couldn’t identify anyone.

Well, it’s no matter. I.D. ain’t that vital.

This here’s Trev Hudson’s favorite rifle--

The one that was stolen from his office.

I found it in this fella’s pickup.

There’s blood on the butt.

You’re crazy. I’ve never seen that before.

Hey, boy, didn’t you listen to me when I read you your rights?

You keep your mouth shut until you talk to a lawyer.

Now, if that ain’t enough,

I found this pretty little thing in his duffel bag.

The gold medallion from my father’s desk.

Somebody planted that on me.

Look, I’ve never killed anybody.

I’ve never stolen anything. Now, that’s the God’s truth!

You tellin’ me you weren’t around here last night?

Son, we got possible eyewitnesses.

We got forensics. And let me tell you somethin’ else.

When we run your prints off to the state capitol,

and maybe the F.B.I.,

I think we’re gonna find you got yourself one hell of a background.

Yeah, I kinda thought so.

I’m sorry, Mrs. Fletcher. I know you kinda had it figured otherwise,

but the way I see it, I’ve just come up with my killer.

Hey. Come on.

Good work, Hank.

I guess now we can all breathe a sigh of relief.

Someday I’m gonna catch me a criminal, and he’s gonna say,

"Sheriff, I did it, and I deserve to be punished for it."

You know, Sheriff, finding the gold medallion

and the rifle was, well-- Well, it was all very convenient--

Ma’am, I wish you wouldn’t start with that.

But I’m personally more interested

in what you didn’t find.

I mean, for instance, whatever happened to the notes for Trevor Hudson’s book?

Likely he didn’t think they were valuable,

and he tossed them out.

There’s no cause to fret, ma’am. We don’t need ’em.

I’ve already got a real sound case on Mr. Perry.

If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I’ve got things to do.

Jessica.

I see our conversation earlier made no impression on you.

I’m sorry. You’re making things very difficult for all of us.

Well, I’m sorry too.

Are you going along with this, Dorothy,

knowing that The Valley Beyond is probably a fraud?

Isn’t that really speculation, Jessica?

Now look, I’m in the business of publishing books.

Some good, some bad, and I don’t really care which

as long as they sell lots of copies.

And Trevor Hudson’s last novel is going to sell a lot of copies.

I see.

Jessica.

I think under the circumstances, it would be best if you were to leave.

Best or safer?

First, there’s someone I want to speak to, then I’ll pack my things.

Oh, come on, Jessica. What would I know about last night?

I was in Cheyenne closing a deal.

Barney, I’m sorry, but Livvy saw your car here

shortly before the time that Bob was murdered.

Now, look, lady. If you think I came back here

to knock off Bob Jarrett, you’re crazy.

Look, in spite of your so-called open marriage,

I believe that you told your wife

that you were gonna spend the night in Cheyenne,

whereas, in fact, you came back here to check up on her.

You’re pretty sharp.

Yeah, I came back.

She wasn’t expecting me, and knowing her as I do...

- I understand. - I don’t know if you do.

Guys like me, we talk tough when we’re scared.

I don’t want to lose her.

I keep saying things are great even when they’re not.

She was with a guy last night.

I saw them through the window.

Forgive me, Barney.

Was she with Bob, or was she with someone else?

I’m not goin’ to any sheriff, and I’m not going before any court!

Have you ever heard of an accessory after the fact?

Barney, was the man with Cat the same young man

that the sheriff arrested?

Yeah, it was the same guy. So what?

Well, how long did he stay?

You think I hung around here to find out?

I’ve got smarts, but no guts.

I went to an all-night greasy spoon for a while,

and then I went to the airport and waited

for the plane from Cheyenne to come in so I could go home.

And where is Cat now?

I don’t know. Out. Her car is not here.

I wonder why that drifter didn’t tell the sheriff he was here with Cat.

And put himself on the premises around the time of the killing?

Well, obviously he’s smarter than that.

But one way or the other, I have got to talk to Cat

and straighten this thing out.

- Thanks, Barney. - Sure. Don’t mention it.

Jessica, good news.

I just got off the phone with the sheriff.

He got a confession in the Jarrett murder.

What? From whom?

Th-that-that vagrant, uh, Adam Perry. Who else?

- Oh, but that’s not possible. - Hank said it was signed and sealed.

Oh, dear heavens. Quickly.

We’ve got to get there as fast as possible.

- Jessica, what is it? - Well, I’m very much afraid

that we’re about to have another murder.

I’m telling you what Hank said.

Adam Perry signed a full confession.

But he couldn’t have. He had an ironclad alibi. He was with your niece.

- Cat? - Barney saw them together.

Now wait a minute.

You said there was liable to be another murder. Whose?

Adam Perry. Oh, well, don’t you see? The confession was a forgery.

Hank Masters planted that evidence and then forged the confession.

And now he has to kill that young man to cover his tracks. Hank?

But why would he kill Bob Jarrett?

Oh, out of loyalty to Trevor Hudson, to protect the family.

Or more likely, to preserve the image of himself

that he believed that Trev Hudson had set down on paper.

Come on in here. Somebody wants to see ya.

I’ve been wonderin’ if you’d show up.

Hi, Adam. I hear you’re in trouble.

Yeah. Well, I wouldn’t be if you’d tell the sheriff here where I spent the night.

He was with me, in my cabin,

until all the commotion-- you know, when they found Bob’s body.

And then I just took off, Sheriff.

I lit out before you got there.

Now, that’s the god’s honest truth.

Is that the way it was, Cat?

I didn’t want to say anything on account of Barney.

Maybe we could just keep this between us.

Well, now, this changes things considerably.

Cat, what do you think I oughta do with this young fella?

Well, I saw his pickup truck out back.

One of my deputies brought it in.

I got it workin’ again.

Back door.

Get goin’ before I change my mind.

Yeah. Thanks. See ya.

Will you hurry up before he gets away? He’s not goin’ anywhere.

You can’t shoot a man unless he’s armed.

He’s armed.

I’d hate to shoot you, Hank,

but my aim’s so bad, I might not be able to miss.

Or maybe you’re planning to shoot all of us.

What the hell’s all the commotion?

Don’t ask me. Think I heard a gunshot.

Did you hear that?

Linda, stay back. Stay back! Stay back!

Look out. Look out.

Bob was in the office workin’ on the galleys.

Hank had the key. I gave it to him.

He got into the house and went into the office

through the door from the foyer.

Bob asked him to leave. Hank argued with him.

And then Hank took the rifle from the rack.

After he struck Bob, he took the gold medallion

from the desk and then opened a desk drawer.

He knew exactly what to take from the files in the desk.

After that, he let himself out the French doors

and broke the glass from the outside to make it look like some burglar

had forced his way in.

He made me help him. There wasn’t anything I could do.

That’s not true. I was afraid. I was afraid just like the rest of them.

Afraid that Bob was gonna spoil everything.

Hank knew that I spent a couple hours

with Adam in a motel off an interstate.

Hell, Hank knew everything that went on around here.

He took me aside and said that we needed to get rid of Bob

before he smeared my grandfather’s reputation.

But he needed someone to pin it on.

Otherwise, everybody would know it was one of us.

He said he needed me to help him frame Adam.

Look, I just wanted that part in the movie. Don’t you understand?

The lead in the biggest movie of the year.

I mean, no more R-rated cheapies, no more crummy television movies.

Was that so wrong?