All language subtitles for MrSWr5E10.Weave.a.Tangled.Web.

Is there anything you haven't told me?

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

What in the hell are you doing here?

You must be crazy calling here. You stood me up, Vivian.

Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be

up here in Norman Rockwell land.

- You're my big surprise... for my wife. - Oh?

So I hear you're the man that I should talk to, Augie.

Lady, I'm married, three children.

Vivian Proctor was in Eric Bowman's motel room.

And she wasn't there, believe me,

to sell him any girl scout cookies.

Ta-da!

Can I put the frosting on, Daddy?

Dad said I could help him.

Hey, you guys, it has to cool first.

Which reminds me. Now, you've got a dental checkup

After school tomorrow, Debbie.

Dad, is Mom gonna be back in time

for the Little League game?

Are you kidding?

Wild horses wouldn't drag me away.

- Mom! - Hello!

Isn't that famous right-hander Danny Proctor pitching tonight?

- We baked you a cake special, Mom. - You did? Hmm?

Ooh, tastes like chocolate.

I knew you'd be back in time.

With you pitching and Dad coaching,

those Blue Jays don't have a chance.

Mom, didn't you bring us anything this time?

I think I forgot.

No. I left the packages in the car.

Come on.

Oh, hi.

Mmm! Ah!

- So how was the trip? - Well, it was exhausting.

But I'm fine. I'm home now.

Oh, God, I missed you. Mmm.

Sometimes I wish you didn't have to work so hard.

Well, it's only three or four days a week,

and then it's golden time back here

with the world's cuddliest family.

Mmm! That works for me.

Yeah? You sure?

I mean, no old male ego problems?

- My male ego's fine, believe me. - OK.

Yeah.

So, if you're not too tired after the game tonight...

You...

- Mm-mm-mm-mm. - Mm-mm-mm-mm.

Proctor residence.

Yes, she's here. May I say who's calling?

Somebody named Eric. Says it's business.

Oh, that's a client from Chicago.

I shouldn't have given out this number.

I'll take it in the den.

I've got it, honey.

Hello.

You stood me up, Vivian.

That's not very nice.

- You must be crazy calling here. - I told the Hausfrau

it was business.

So, when are we gonna get together?

I told you I couldn't see you today. I just got home.

So what about tonight?

Why don't you slip over here

and meet me at the Starlight Motel about, uh, 9:00?

- That is impossible! - What's the problem?

Doesn't Ralphie have a Little League game tonight?

Eric, I can't handle this.

Vivian, we both know you'll be here.

9 o'clock.

I'll be waiting.

Frankie, right here.

You got it, Mr. Specter.

Now, I hope that was one of your bimbos,

'cause if you were trying to lay off your action

on somebody else, I'd be very disappointed.

Actually, it was a banker friend of mine.

He's giving me another mortgage on my house for the $50,000.

I'm very happy to hear that,

because a good wager between gentlemen is an important thing.

Hey, Augie, come on.

How much action have I given you over the years?

You know I'm good for it.

Eric, I know you're good for it.

I know you won't disappoint me.

It's that I have a certain kind of overhead...

Certain kind of things I need to take care of.

The guys in Brockton are startin' to get nervous,

so I figure you ought to pay me by tomorrow, OK?

You'll have it tomorrow, Augie. I swear.

- It's already handled. - Glad to hear this isn't gonna be awkward.

We just say tomorrow. We just say we're not gonna worry, right?

Frankie, bring Eric here another drink.

- Put it on my tab. - You got it, Mr. S.

- Oh! - Hi.

My goodness! Are you two planning

- to open a store of your own? - It seems like the kids

go through a pair of shoes every month.

Oh, Jessica, thank you for those iris bulbs.

- The first one's just beginning to bud. - Good.

Vivian, with your schedule,

I can't imagine how you find the time

and energy to keep up a garden as well.

Priorities. The kids, the garden... That's my sanity.

- Well, this guy helps a bit too. - Ah!

Darling, I've got to get to the library

and help the kids pick out some books.

Would you take these packages home?

It's a good thing we brought the station wagon.

Uh!

Oh, thanks very much.

Jessica, come to dinner next week.

I'll be in town Thursday, Friday and the weekend.

- I'd love to. Will you call me? - Sure.

- Bye, darling. - Bye.

I can't get over how she's taken to those kids.

Yes, and how they've taken to her.

- They were so little when Mary died. - I know.

It's funny, isn't it, Jessica?

Vivian brings home the bacon...

most of it anyway.

I keep the home fires burning.

- Well, it's not so funny if it works. - Yeah.

What in the hell are you doing here?

Why shouldn't your husband be here...

- Darling? - You have forgotten the court order.

And the fact that this house is my property.

Well, would you believe I came back hoping for a reconciliation?

No, I don't suppose you would.

What I would believe, Eric, is that you're

looking for any joint assets you haven't already squandered.

The truth is, I'm trying to find my squash racket

- and a pair of shoes. - In my desk?

I do wish you'd put away that silly gun. It might go off.

Don't tempt me, my dear.

I came home from shopping, Your Honor,

and found a burglar rifling my desk.

Considering the notoriety of our divorce,

I doubt there's a jury in the state

that would buy a story like that,

even from such a convincing liar as yourself.

See you in court, darling.

We better finish up later, guys. We're gonna be late.

- Vivian! - I packed all the gear in the car, Dad.

Great.

Mom!

Mom, hurry. We're gonna be late!

Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I don't think I'm gonna be able to go tonight.

- Mom, you promised. - What's the matter?

I don't know. I feel like I'm getting a bug or something.

I've got a splitting headache,

and I've got a ton of paperwork.

Would you guys forgive me, huh? This once?

Here we go. Here we go. Come on. Come on.

All right.

- Hi. - Eric, this is insane.

- What'll you have, ma'am? - I don't want anything.

Bring her a vodka martini. Very dry, one olive.

I'm glad you decided to be sensible.

- Well? - Puncture wound to the heart.

- Probably killed him right away. - When, Doc?

Oh, hard to say.

Could be as little as eight or as much as 12 hours ago.

- You said puncture wound? - Mm-hmm.

- Like a bullet? - No, more like a thin-bladed knife.

Did you find anything like that around here?

No. But I did find a note.

Surely not a suicide note?

If it was a suicide note, the knife'd still here, wouldn't it?

No. This is more of a motive-for-murder kind of a note.

"What do you want from me?

- "This has to stop." - Found it in the victim's pocket.

Unsigned. My, pretty notepaper, though.

Now, this, to the trained mind,

suggests that our victim had something going on with some lady.

Well, Sir, probably because you're new in the territory,

you're not up on all the local gossip.

Now, old Amos always kept his ear

to the ground and his nose to the wind.

You know, Doc, I'm gettin' a little tired

of hearin' about old Amos.

Now, if you've got some background on the victim...

Eric Bowman always played fast and loose with the ladies.

Everybody knew it, including his wife,

who is suing him for divorce.

- Well, why didn't you say so? - I thought I just did.

What's with the celery?

Oh, this is the secret to the new streamlined me.

- Sheriff? - Yeah?

The keys you found in the victim's pocket

- fit a sedan parked out front. - Yeah?

But the keys you found beside the body

don't fit anything out there.

Now we're getting somewhere.

Our victim had a visitor here last night.

I would say that that was patently obvious.

Floyd, run this plate number through Motor Vehicles.

Looks like our killer left us a calling card.

I'm sorry, Ralph.

I guess it's important, or you wouldn't have to go.

I got a phone call last night from Dallas

when you and the kids were at the game.

Big problem with a client. I just gotta go

- put out a fire. - Sure. Sure. I understand.

I love you.

You gonna be gone long?

A couple of days. I'll phone you.

- Will you explain to the kids? - Sure.

- The answering service'll know my number. - Vivian,

Is everything OK?

Fine. Everything's fine.

I love you.

- Seth! Oh, thank goodness. - Hi, Jess.

Your office told me you were here.

I don't want to interrupt, but, uh...

Well, what I mean is, you... You didn't forget, did you?

- Uh, forget what? - The children's benefit.

Oh! That speech you're givin' in New York City.

I'm supposed to drive you to the airport.

Yes. Well, I'm not making a speech.

I'm signing some books.

It must've slipped right out of my head.

All this excitement over Eric Bowman's murder.

Oh, yes. Adele told me about it on the phone.

It was a tragedy.

- Going to New York, Mrs. Fletcher? - Yes.

- Have a nice time. - Thank you. I will.

You go ahead, Doc. I won't need you anymore.

Got a pretty hot lead on this one.

Probably have it all wrapped up before you get back.

Oh, I'm sure you will. Bye.

Sheriff, got a make on that license plate.

Vivian Proctor, 411 Maple Avenue, Cabot Cove.

- Vivian Proctor? - Yes, ma'am.

Proctor. Proctor.

I know that name from somewhere.

Isn't that the guy who works out of his house,

who did your taxes, Sheriff?

Not after the guy tried to tell me

that Adele's karate lessons weren't deductible.

That's him though. Come on, Floyd. Let's go.

Seth.

Yes. Well, uh, her car keys were found

right next to Eric Bowman's body.

Oh, good Lord.

I think I better take a later flight.

Vivian's not here. She's out of town on business. Dallas.

- When did she leave? - About an hour ago.

What's this all this about, Jessica?

I'm investigating the murder of Eric Bowman.

What's that got to do with Vivian?

If you don't mind, Mr. Proctor,

I'll ask the questions, all right?

Do you recognize these keys?

I'm not answering any questions till

you tell me what this has to do with my wife.

OK, Proctor. So if the key fits your lock,

- it belongs to someone in the house. - Ralph,

unless I'm mistaken, those are the keys

that Vivian dropped yesterday.

Oh, right. But Vivian didn't have those keys.

- I did. - Are you saying

you were carrying these keys yesterday?

Sounded that way to me.

I had them at the game last night.

They must have fallen out of my pocket.

Oh, I remember.

I lost them, and I had to use the spare set

I keep in the station wagon to get home.

Mr. Proctor, do you mind if I look around?

Go ahead. We have nothing to hide.

Jessica, we didn't even know Eric Bowman.

Sheriff, I think this must be some dreadful mistake.

Mrs. Fletcher, murder is always a big mistake.

No, what I mean is that Ralph told you that he dropped

the keys last night at the ball game.

But anybody could have picked them up.

And dropped'em besides a dead body? Please.

Look, I've only known Vivian Proctor a couple of years,

since she married Ralph. But one thing I am certain:

they are devoted to each other.

And... And this man, Eric Bowman,

he's just not the sort of person

that Vivian would ever be involved with.

Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be

in Norman Rockwell land, but in the real world, under every rock,

there's some happily married woman with itchy feet and a roving eye.

I know. Believe me.

Look, Bowman traveled a lot.

And Mrs. Proctor, she always travels.

So who knows?

Maybe they got somethin' goin' on together out of town.

I'm sorry, Sheriff, but it will take a great deal more

than your fuzzy logic to convince me.

Oh, yeah? Well, what about this?

You recognize it, Doc?

Ah, yeah. Looks like the same paper to me.

A note found in the victim's pocket.

Yeah, and that note's probably got her prints all over it.

Oh, Seth, I have got to catch that last plane.

But I will be back here tomorrow.

Don't hurry back on my account, Mrs. Fletcher.

A lot of things to see in the Big Apple.

Take in a show, go visit the Statue of Liberty!

Seth, it just doesn't make any sense.

Makes a lot of sense to Metzger, huh?

Look, you know Vivian and Ralph Proctor as well as I do.

And they have a very special relationship.

- Odd is the way I'd describe it. - Oh?

Oh, for pity's sake, Jess. It isn't natural.

A man stayin' home, cooking, cleaning,

- lettin' his wife support him. - Is that right?

And where have you been for the past 25 years?

Well, not lettin' some woman support me.

She's not supporting him. He has his own tax business.

But even if she was, why shouldn't a woman be the breadwinner?

Now, that is where the wheels come off the rails, isn't it?

Somehow I feel I'm about to be served a helping

of your homespun Victorian Philosophy.

Can't have it both ways, Jess.

Sauce for the goose, as they say.

Woman goes out into the world, holds down a good job,

dumps her natural responsibilities off onto someone else...

Did I say Victorian?

I think I meant Neanderthal.

Then she looks around, sees that the pasture

is not only green, but full of playmates.

Figures what the old man doesn't know won't hurt him.

- Very convincing. Guilt by role reversal. - Face it, Jess.

Vivian Proctor was in Eric Bowman's motel room,

and she wasn't there, believe you me,

to sell him any girl scout cookies either.

My goodness, I've never seen

so many checkbooks appear on cue in my life.

I hope you didn't get writer's cramp from signing these books.

Oh, no. When I'm signing my own books,

you'd be amazed at my staying power.

Thank you.

Seriously, Mrs. Fletcher,

Thanks for your generous support.

Well, the Children's Fund is tops on my list.

Anyway, you made all the arrangements.

I don't know where on earth you find the time.

You know what they say, Jessica?

If you want a job done properly,

Give it to someone who's busy.

Would you believe that this morning

I was on the Concord from Paris?

That's impressive, Mr. Austin.

Oh, please call me Miles,

because I've decided to call you Jessica.

Jessica, having you here on absolutely no notice

is a very special treat.

Well, I'm just delighted to be here.

I'm not very appropriately dressed.

Nonsense. You look enchanting.

- Anyway, you're my big surprise. - Oh?

For my wife. She's quite a fan of yours.

Well, I don't remember meeting her.

Oh, you didn't. She wasn't able to attend the benefit.

- A busy lady. - Must run in the family.

We spend half our time coordinating our schedules.

Oh, darling, would you mind coming over here a minute?

There's someone I want you to meet.

J.B. Fletcher, my wife, Vivian.

Darling, are you all right?

Oh, yes. I'm fine.

Meeting Mrs. Fletcher was such a delightful surprise,

it just took my breath away. Also, I had a rather bumpy

flight from Los Angeles. I think I'm just a little dizzy.

- I think you're driving yourself too hard. - Oh, no. Nonsense.

I mean, meeting a famous author that I've always admired.

Such a thoughtful surprise.

My dear, why don't you go and see how our guests are doing?

I feel Mrs. Fletcher and I have so much to talk about.

I'll tell 'em you have a headache.

Jessica, don't judge me too harshly.

Frankly, Vivian, I'm too confused to be judgmental.

My God. I mean, I'm so confused too.

I don't know why I expect you to understand.

Try me.

Fifteen years ago, I met Miles.

He was the most exciting man I ever met.

He had everything: wit, intelligence,

wealth, position. He adored me.

- And he swept you off your feet. - Yeah.

Yes, having met Miles, I can understand that.

Well, we discovered that I'd never be able to have any children.

I think Miles was less disappointed about it than I was.

He had a very rich and rewarding life.

I lived in his reflected light.

Perhaps more in his shadow than in his light?

After a few years, I made some adjustments.

I, uh... I found a career.

I think Miles was... He was pleased.

I was rather successful.

Because you were busy, he assumed you were happy?

Then three years ago, on a business trip, I met Ralph,

a very tender, caring, loving man.

I promise you, Jessica, at first it was absolutely harmless.

But you never mentioned Miles?

Well, there was no need to. I mean,

we were just friends.

And then something I never expected happened.

You fell in love. Oh!

Oh, Vivian, you're not the first woman that that's happened to.

But to marry him without coming to terms with Miles?

I know. It was stupid.

But by that time, Ralph and I were so deeply involved,

I was afraid that I would lose him if I told him the truth.

Oh, Jessica,

You will destroy the lives of five people

if you don't keep my secret.

Oh, I'm sorry, Vivian, but I can't do that.

The fact is...

I've sent them all home. Now, I insist you come to bed and get some rest.

And, Jessica, you're staying overnight.

I've already told the servants to prepare a room.

I think that's a wonderful idea.

That way we can have a long talk over breakfast.

How many times do I have to tell ya?

Sheriff Morton Metzger, Cabot Cove, Maine.

Hey, look, I've got a murder investigation goin' on here,

and I need some cooperation.

I know there are a lot of hotels in Dallas.

Fort Worth? No, I don't want Fort Worth. I want Dallas.

Oh? Yeah?

Well, in that case, give me Fort Worth, too.

Yeah, call me back as soon as you can.

Those people are nuts down there.

A state 10 times the size of New York,

and they put two cities in the same place.

Either that broad's usin' a phony name, or she never went to Dallas.

Or both. You know what I say, Floyd?

No, Sir. What do you say?

I say that any man who lets his wife support him

is beggin' her to run around on him.

Oh, Jessica, thank you for being so understanding.

I mean, what good would it do if you told anyone?

All it would do is create a lot of problems

for a lot of innocent people.

Vivian, I'm sorry, but it's a little late for secrecy.

Now, tell me what you know about Eric Bowman.

You know about that?

Everyone in Cabot Cove knows about it.

He's dead.

Oh, no! That's impossible!

Well, he was murdered.

And what's even more distressing

is Sheriff Metzger has a warrant for your arrest.

Well, there must be some mistake.

I mean, I only met him one time on a plane.

He made some advances to me. But I promise you, Jessica,

I never gave him any encouragement.

Vivian, your keys were found next to his body in the motel room.

My keys?

You know, I'm always misplacing them.

I mean, so much so that I even have

a spare set in my glove compartment.

I mean, there must be a simple explanation.

Well, I certainly hope so.

But you have to get back to Cabot Cove and clear this thing up.

- I mean, it's the only thing to do. - Yes, of course.

But promise me, you'll let me tell Ralph in my own time.

This whole thing is absurd, Sheriff.

My only involvement with Eric Bowman

was to try and repulse his clumsy advances.

So, uh, you weren't having an affair with him?

- Absolutely not! - I resent that, Metzger!

I know my wife, and I trust her completely.

Well, then, what about this note?

"What do you want from me? This has to stop."

And don't bother denying you wrote it.

Sheriff, that could be read as a rejection

toward someone who is forcing their attentions on her.

So, how do you explain her keys being found next to his body?

I told you, Sheriff, I had those keys,

and I lost them somewhere.

Okay. Okay.

So you deny even being at the motel, Mrs. Proctor?

- Is that it? - Yes.

Then why does the bartender put you in the bar with Bowman

the evening of the murder?

All right.

I went there to see him,

but only to beg him to leave me alone.

I didn't want Ralph to be hurt.

Now look, Sheriff, this is all circumstantial.

I mean, you haven't even found the murder weapon

or established the time of death accurately.

Mr. Bowman could've been murdered in the middle of the night

and I've heard that he had lots of women friends in his life.

And wasn't he in the middle of a rather acrimonious divorce?

I just wouldn't want you to be embarrassed by acting too quickly.

OK. OK.

It's against my better judgment,

but I'll hold off on formal charges.

Don't leave town again without checking with me first.

- You got that? - Yes, thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher, I don't suppose

you're planning on leaving town again soon?

Just asking.

Jess, I know you're upset,

but you're gonna have to accept it.

- When you're wrong, you are wrong. - Wrong?

Wrong about what? Cookies, Seth?

About Vivian Proctor carryin' on with that Eric Bowman fella.

Oh, I'm not upset about that.

- Well then, what is eatin' at you, woman? - Well,

it's, uh... It's something about Vivian Proctor

that I... Can't talk about it.

Actually, I can, but, uh, I shouldn't.

No, that's not true. I mean, I should...

Oh, I don't know.

Jess, if you don't get this off your chest,

you're gonna bust.

Now, besides being a good friend,

I am a doctor, and a doctor knows how to listen.

And he's pretty good at keepin' secrets, too.

Oh, I know that you wouldn't tell anyone, Seth.

It's just that...

Well, frankly, you...

You might be a little shocked.

I've seen half of Cabot Cove without their clothes on,

and I've heard a great deal worse.

Woman, there's nothing you could tell me

that would shock me at all.

Vivian Proctor has another husband in New York.

Are you all right, Seth?

You mean, another husband that she neglected to divorce?

Well, it's a little more complicated than that.

I mean... Well, what I mean to say is that she's,

uh... She's living with both of them.

At the same time?

There you are, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Always happy to help the children. - Thank you.

Oh, Mrs. Bowman, this is very generous of you

under the circumstances.

You know... I mean, I really hesitated

to bother you so soon after your tragic loss.

Well, thank you for your concern,

but I assure you, I'll survive.

I assume you knew Eric and I were being divorced?

Well, yes. Yes, I had heard something.

Oh, believe me, it was not what they call friendly.

Oh, for years I tried to close my eyes to it,

but between his womanizing and his gambling...

Gambling? Oh, I hadn't heard about that.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, let me tell you.

Eric associated with some very unsavory people.

Here in Cabot Cove?

You'd be amazed at what goes on!

You know that motel where he was killed?

- A regular gambling den. - Really?

Eric spent half his time hanging out

at the bar with some gangster from Boston.

- Gangster? - Well, gangster, bookie, whatever.

All I know is Eric was terrified of him.

Oh, my goodness. It must have been dreadful for you.

Well, anyway, I'm glad that's all behind me now.

In a way, you might say Vivian Proctor did me a favor.

Well...

Whatever else Margo Bowman may be guilty of,

- she did not kill her husband. - Huh. That so?

No. The night of the murder, she was having dinner

- with her divorce attorney at his place. - Hmm.

They also had breakfast together the next morning.

No, what interests me is Eric Bowman's involvement

with a bookmaker who hangs around that bar in the motel.

His name is Augie something?

Now, Jess, you are not going to nose around the Starlight Motel.

Could be very dangerous. And quite frankly,

they wouldn't give a nice lady like you the right time of day.

Oh, doesn't anybody wanna dance around here?

- Same thing again, ma'am? - Oh, I suppose so.

You know, Frankie, the problem with betting on baseball

is you can't chart the biorhythms.

Biorhythms? I never heard of that one.

Oh, you spend an hour charting the starting pitchers,

and then some slaphappy manager brings in a reliever.

No.

Give me football anytime.

You chart the quarterbacks, you chart the kickers,

and if you get a plus-5 differential over the spread,

you bet the mortgage and your first-born kid.

Believe me, I can't wait till September.

Has Augie been in today?

Augie, uh... Augie! Yes, I think I remember him.

He's a... He's a friend of yours?

Well, he's not what I would call a personal friend.

But somebody told me to look him up.

Is he what you'd call a straight shooter?

I don't... I don't know anything about him, ma'am,

other then somebody said he used to be

- a sparring partner for Gerry Cooney. - Oh.

- I'll tell him you're lookin' for him. - Right.

- You got a cigarette? - Sure.

- Thanks. - Mm-hmm.

Hello.

You got a light?

I don't smoke. It annoys the Surgeon General.

Mmm.

So, I hear you're the man that I should talk to, Augie.

Lady, I'm married, three children.

Well, there's this nag in the seventh

at Suffolk... Potato Pancake.

I like her name. I thought maybe

we could do a little business.

Listen to me, lady.

I don't know what business you're in,

but I don't like discussing mine with strangers.

I also don't appreciate other people

discussing my business with strangers.

Good night, Frankie.

Ma'am.

You forgot your glasses.

Oh.

Thanks.

Thank you.

Sheriff, I just got a phone call.

It sounded important, so I wrote it down.

A tip from a concerned citizen about the murder.

What's this name at the bottom? I can't make out

- your handwriting. Ann who? - "Anonymous."

Floyd, call the guys and cancel my golf date.

It's going to be all right.

Oh, I wish I could believe that.

No matter what the police think,

I'm here for you. I want you to know that.

Ralph.

Viv, is there anything you haven't told me?

I have to go out for a while.

If you're looking for my wife, she's not here.

Mind stepping out of the vehicle, Mr. Proctor?

Ralph Proctor, I'm arresting you

for the murder of Eric Bowman.

Floyd, read him his rights.

I just couldn't tell him, Jessica.

I just couldn't.

Vivian, the longer you wait,

the more difficult it's going to be.

I know. My whole life is falling apart.

Oh, God, help me, Jessica.

Believe me, I want to help,

but somehow I feel there's something you're not telling me.

You're right.

Eric was in terrible trouble because of his gambling debts.

He needed $50,000. He wanted me to give him the money.

Blackmail?

It amounted to that.

He followed me to New York. He found out about Miles.

Oh, good heavens.

No wonder you didn't wanna mention it.

I mean, that gives you the perfect motive for killing him.

But I thought if I just gave him the money,

that that would be it.

I took $50,000 from my business account.

I gave it to him in the bar that night.

$50,000 in cash?

But what happened to it? It was never found.

I don't know. I don't care about the money.

I just care about Ralph, and I care about the kids.

Vivian, you're going to have to decide.

I know. You're right.

I better tell Miles. I shouldn't put it off another minute.

Yes. Seth, what is it?

Oh, good Lord.

It all fits like a tailor-made suit.

Well, it may fit you, Sheriff,

but I'm not so sure that it fits Ralph Proctor.

Come on, Mrs. Fletcher. The medical report says

the murder could've taken place as late

as 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning.

Now, Ralph figured out that Vivian

had something goin' on with Bowman.

Wives have a sixth sense about that.

You know, so far, everything you've said

is pure speculation, Sheriff.

She admitted that Bowman called her at the house.

Now, who knows? Maybe the ball and chain eavesdropped on the call.

Anyway, he finds out. Now he's got a big problem.

She supports him! He's scared to death

he's gonna lose his meal ticket.

- Maybe he even knows where they shack up. - No!

Grabs a knife from the kitchen.

I never saw that knife before.

Sneaks over there and finds 'em together.

This makes absolutely no sense.

Didn't you tell me that there were no fingerprints on the knife?

I didn't say he was stupid. He wiped'em off.

But why would he hide it in his own car?

He was planning on getting rid of it later.

And who was this concerned citizen who so conveniently phoned

and told you that Ralph

had been seen going to the motel that night

and where the knife was?

Someone who didn't wanna become involved.

- Happens all the time. - Ah. Floyd?

Do you remember

whether the phone call was a man or a woman?

Well, it was kind of muffled, Mrs. Fletcher,

but I'm pretty sure it was a man.

Now look, ma'am, you can huff and puff all you want.

The guy's got motive, opportunity,

and the murder weapon is found in his possession.

The grand jury takes it from here.

Floyd, lock him up.

I'm goin' home for my lunch.

Is there anything that I can do?

Oh, thanks, Jessica. I've already arranged

for someone to take care of the kids.

- I have to go to New York. - Yes. Of course.

Ralph's gonna need a lawyer. I better get some money.

- And Miles? - Yes, I'm gonna tell him.

He'll be hurt. But that's my decision.

You know, I don't know what I did with my car keys.

Sheriff Metzger has my keys, doesn't he?

I have a spare set in the car.

Vivian, did you have those keys when you went to meet Eric Bowman?

The keys that were found by his body?

I don't know. You know, I'm always losing my car keys.

Think. It could be very important.

I was very upset when I left him at the bar and...

I didn't have the keys!

I didn't. I had to use the spare set

from the glove compartment to get home.

- Wish me luck, Jessica. - Yes, of course.

Floyd!

- Another one, ma'am? - Oh, sure.

Let me tell you, Frankie.

Drinking alone isn't my idea of having fun.

Well, sometimes it picks up a little later on.

You think Augie'll be in?

Augie?

Oh, come on, Frankie. I'm cool.

Listen, I've got a friend who works

for a trainer at Suffolk Downs.

And if I don't lay down a bet,

I'm kissin' a sure thing good-Bye.

- Now, how about his phone number? - Oh, no, no.

I don't think he'd like it if I did that.

Look, I'm not supposed to breathe a word

about this to anybody. But you give me

Augie's number, and I'll cut you in.

Look, he's 16-to-1 in the morning line.

All right, look. Remember,

you didn't get this from me.

Oh, Mr. Specter, please come in.

I know you.

Do I know you?

Well, we had a brief conversation

in the bar of the Starlight Motel.

Oh, yeah. The lady with the Potato Pancake.

So what the hell is this phone message all about, lady?

Simply what it said.

That I have information about Eric Bowman's murder.

What has Eric Bowman got to do with you?

A friend of mine has been arrested for the murder

but I have information that indicates that he didn't do it.

What information is that?

The fact that Mr. Bowman owed you $50,000 in gambling debts.

Mr. Bowman and I were casual acquaintances.

From time to time, we used to chat about sports.

Mr. Specter, please. I happen to know

that Mr. Bowman had $50,000 in his possession

the night that he was murdered.

- So, uh, Eric came up with it, huh? - Mm-hmm.

Nah, I don't think so.

I assure you he did, Mr. Specter.

I happen to know that someone gave him the money, in cash,

at the bar, not long before he was murdered.

So what are you sayin' to me, Mrs. Fletcher?

- You sayin' I killed him? - I don't know.

- Did you? - What, are you wired or somethin'?

Bowman owed you money.

Someone handed it to him.

A few hours later, he was murdered in his motel room.

No sign of the money. Everything points to you, Mr. Specter.

I mean, who else knew about it?

That's a very interesting question, Mrs. Fletcher.

- I agree. - Very interesting, but off base.

You see, the night Eric got snuffed,

I was at an all-night card game in another county,

and the big loser that night was your water commissioner.

Huh?

You have a nice evening, Mrs. Fletcher.

Augie!

Geez, you scared the hell outta me.

What are you doin' here?

You goin' someplace, Frankie?

Yeah. I got a couple days off.

Thought I'd go up to the lakes, do a little fishin'.

- You ain't leaving town with my 50 grand? - No.

No. Whatever gave you an idea like that?

It was somethin' that Fletcher woman said...

about Eric gettin' a lot of money at the bar that night.

I had to ask myself, who was always there

with his big eyes and his big ears?

I had to ask myself, who saw

Eric gettin' all that money? And I asked myself

and I asked myself, and I couldn't come up

with anybody but you, Frankie!

You must have been real tempted.

You always were such a two-bit punk.

I figure you waited till the bar closed,

everybody's gone, then you went to his room.

It's funny, if you stick'em just right.

That's it, Frankie. That's the only way it makes any sense.

- So where is it, pal? - No, you got it wrong, Augie.

- I don't have your money. - You don't have my money?

No.

Don't you get up, Frankie.

Is this it? Open the door! Police!

- Sorry. You're too late. - What are you doin' here?

Got a call. Disturbing the peace.

Ho-Ho! Whoa-hoa! Now look at all that money.

- That is my money! - Oh, yeah?

Now that's really funny. 'Cause Mrs. Fletcher

told me something about blackmail money.

You two just stay right where you're at

while we sort this whole thing out, huh, gentlemen?

I told him. He really took it very well.

- Ralph? - No, Miles.

He was hurt, of course,

but he decided to put my happiness ahead of his.

There'll be a quiet divorce.

What about Ralph?

I haven't had the time to tell him yet.

Oh, but, Jessica, thanks to you,

that whole Eric Bowman nightmare, it's behind us.

I understand that the bartender confessed?

How did you manage that?

Oh, I just thought if I could plant

the idea in Augie Specter's head

that Frankie had gotten away with his money...

But what made you think it was the bartender?

At first, I didn't.

But when you told me that you gave Eric Bowman

the money at the bar,

the pieces started to fall into place.

And then I remembered what you told me about your keys.

- My keys? - Yes, you said that you might have left

your keys on the bar.

So, I decided to test Frankie.

Now, he didn't come after me,

and I left him a pretty good tip.

So, he knew those keys weren't mine,

- and I guess he panicked. - Oh, Jessica,

We are never gonna be able to thank you.

How about coming in for a cup of coffee?

- No, thanks. I've got to run. - So soon?

Oh, darling, come in the house.

There's something that I want to tell you.

Sure.