All language subtitles for MrSWr5E16.Truck.Stop.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

- It's been a long time, Vera. - 19 years, but who's counting?

You're just passing through, right?

I mean, maybe you want some company back in L.A.

Now look, I'm not sure how I got tied in to this sudden reunion.

Anything happens to her, I'll rip you apart!

Pete said too much. Maybe that's what got him killed.

I've already got my favorite kind of killer, a dead one.

I'm not here to sell you life insurance.

I'm here to pay some off.

Walter Murray here.

I got this feeling I'm not gonna make it...

A feeling in my chest.

Anyway, uh,

I'm not sure who's... gonna last longer,

me or this tape, so, uh,

I'd better quit with the wisecracks and, uh,

get to the point.

Police!

I know you're in there, Murray!

Now you better open up before I rearrange the architecture!

Sheriff Tugman. What on earth?

Now don't bother me, Mrs. Fletcher.

I got a dangerous man in here.

Walter, dangerous? He's a writer.

You can reason with writers.

You don't have to shoot your way in.

Well, somebody heard gunfire out past the old mine...

and saw a car go by like that rental that you and Murray been driving.

The treads match too. Now you better stand back.

But I heard Walter come in an hour ago.

I heard his door.

Well, that fits like a penny loafer,

'cause that's when the shots were heard.

Well, there must be some other way.

- Wish that door was as thin as the walls! - Walter? Oh, my God.

The minute you two walked in here,

I pegged Murray for trouble.

Isn't it evident that Walter was the one in trouble,

not the one causing it?

Just 'cause he's got a slug in him

don't make him the guy in the white hat.

Yeah, but why did he come back to his room

instead of going for help?

I mean, obviously saving his own life

was less important than something he wanted to put on that tape.

Like who plugged him, maybe?

I should've known the minute I saw her mug

after all these years.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

This isn't the way I planned it, but since my ticket's punched,

I figure I ought to finish the script.

Probably wondering who shot me, huh?

Well, it's a long story.

When the studio signed me to do the screenplay

of a J .B. Fletcher book,

we met in Vegas.

But Vegas had a lot of memories for me,

some bad, some worse.

So I suggested we head back to L.A.

The Fletcher dame wanted to fly.

I had another idea.

Walter, uh, wouldn't it be quicker

to stay on the interstate?

Picture this for the opening of the movie.

The guy plants a smacker on the girl. She slaps him.

He kisses her again. She likes it.

But as their lips are suctioned together,

she pulls a gun out of her purse.

He grabs her hand. The gun goes off.

Uh, Walter, That sounds like a very interesting scene,

but, uh, I don't quite remember it being in my book.

Yeah, well, uh, we're not making a movie of your book.

We're making a movie about the essence of your book.

Hungry?

- Not really. - So am I.

There she was.

A little worse for wear, but still a hot cup of coffee to a thirsty guy like me.

Walter.

What's a nice kid like you doing in a dump like this?

She's working for and married to me.

Somewhat like the Soviets in that regard, aren't you, Sir?

Are you callin' me a Commie?

Hello.

It's been a long time, Vera.

Nineteen years. But who's countin'?

I can't believe I found you out here in the middle of nowhere.

Honey, if I'd known you were comin',

I'd have hit this joint with a fresh batch of cleanser.

- Still got a mouth on you, huh? - I wish I looked a little better.

You look OK.

Uh, excuse my manners, Jessica,

but, it's quite a jolt seeing your youth suddenly pop up in front of you.

I knew this gal when she was just a kid in tie-dye jeans.

- Oh. - Jessica Fletcher, Vera...

Gerakaris. Doesn't that beat all?

I can't believe you and Walter just stumbled in here.

Neither can I. It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Gerakaris.

Hiya.

I knew a Gerakaris once.

Somewhere in the southern climes.

- Have you spent much time in the South? - Hey, come on.

Mm... Not lately.

Extraordinary. You look so familiar somehow.

- What do you want to eat? - Make sure he pays first.

He probably won't have enough money for the coffee...

Probably not even the cream.

See you, babe.

Hey. What do you think you're doing?

- I need some money. - What's the matter?

Your boyfriend forgot to rob a liquor store?

Pete, please. You really should give her an allowance.

I'll give her what she needs, a swift kick in...

You lay one finger on me and I'll blow this burg for good. I swear it.

She looked just like her mother did at her age,

Hard and soft, spicy and sweet,

all mixed together like a Cantonese dish.

- Pete, please. - Make your sandwiches!

Get out of my way.

No daughter of mine's gonna waste her life on a bike with a punk!

Anything happens to her, I'll rip you apart!

And you, eat up, pay up and get out.

I don't want you here when I come back. Understand?

Pete's gracious invitation made me realize

I'd forgotten my wallet in the car.

I went out to get it, and when I came back,

that corpulent copper Tugman had arrived.

He was turning on what he thought was charm,

but everybody saw right through him.

You sure know how to make a man happy, babe.

From the appearance of your girth,

one can only surmise that you must be ecstatic.

You got a problem?

No, I was merely observing. I hope you won't take offense,

but you seem to have put on a little weight since last we met.

Look, I've never seen you before,

and I don't much ever want to see you again.

But surely you must remember...

Don't you have someplace to go, Sir?

Yes, of course. Indeed. Yes.

I shall make for the open road and my search for truth.

For, evidently, I shan't find it here.

Take it easy, fella. OK, come on. Take it easy. Here we go.

- Oh. Poor guy must be hungry. - Take it easy.

I was hungry too. A different kind of hungy.

Listen, I don't care how little money you have.

Tonight, you're gonna have a free meal

and you're gonna sleep here, OK?

That's very kind, but surely your husband wouldn't approve.

Let me worry about my husband.

- Walter, can I speak to you for a moment? - Uh, sure, Jessica.

Here we go. Come on. Up on your feet.

- Got him? - Got him. OK.

- Thank you very much, really. - Just lean on me. It's all right.

Now look, I'm not sure how I got tied in to this sudden reunion,

but I want to be untied right now.

Yeah, well, Jessica, it's going to... It's going to be dark soon.

Now, Walter. I don't care if it's midnight

when we get to L.A.

But I've had all I want of this place.

Yeah, sure. No problem.

Just my luck.

Well, it looks like you two

are gonna have to stick around for a while.

Let me take a look at that engine.

Maybe I can get this car started before night.

Night. That's when the trouble began.

Yeah, right... One night 19 years ago.

Anyway, the grit really hit the pan...

when Flora came back with her biker beau later that night.

Yes. I thought it was quite a coincidence

that the car just happened to fail to start.

I suppose Walter tinkered with it

when he said he went to get his wallet.

Well, if he's so smart, then how come he's so dead?

Sheriff, something that may be important...

happened before Flora returned that night.

I decided I needed to talk to Walter.

I was having second thoughts about the movie.

And Roscoe the mechanic was lurking outside Walter's room.

Nice night out. I was just going for a walk.

Oh, yes. It must be very confining working in the garage.

Oh, how's the car coming along, by the way?

Car?

Yes. Mr. Murray's car.

You said you thought you could fix it.

I was really hoping we'd be able to leave tomorrow.

Me too.

- Vera was in the room with him. - And Murray was forcing himself on her?

Oh, no. No, not at all.

It looked as if they'd been talking.

Vera was sitting on a chair. She'd been crying.

And Walter looked distracted,

As if he'd been told something surprising.

Surprised, huh? Then how come it's not on the tape?

Uh. I'm not sure.

I heard Grange's bike pull up. I guess we all did.

Then I heard Pete shouting.

Hey, what are you doin'?

How can you disgrace me like that?

Disgrace? Now that's a good one.

Like you could sink any lower.

Stayin' out till all hours of the night with that no-good punk.

Hey. Hey, Pete, come on. You're drunk. Come on.

And you? What good are you?

How long have you had my Chevy? You can't even fix a water pump? Get outta here!

What's the matter with you? He's the only friend you've got!

Don't talk back to me. You're a tramp like your mother!

- Don't touch her! - He's right about you being a tramp.

Hey, old man, why don't you try pickin'

on someone your own size?

Old man?

Yeah. Try pickin' on me like you did your girl!

Come on! Come on! Try pickin' on a man! Come on!

- Yeah, sure. - Take a swing. Come on. Get up. Get up.

- Damn! I didn't mean to. - Grange!

Damn kid!

- Grange, I'm going with you! - No.

Mañana.

Leave me alone!

Well, that was the last straw.

I'd just found Vera after all these years. I...

I wasn't about to leave her with a two-fisted jerk like Pete.

And I had to do something.

And the opportunity presented itself later that night.

I took a walk to clear my head. It was banging pretty bad.

But not as loud as the banging coming from that garage.

I thought maybe somebody was messing with my car...

And it was a weird time of night for Roscoe to be working.

It was Pete. He was banging my car

with a tire iron like it was a piñata.

Hey! Hey! What do you think you're doing?

He came after me with that tire iron.

You think you can just take her away from me?

I managed to get it away from him,

but when he came after me with a wrench...

You want her, you're gonna have to kill me.

I figured I'd take his advice.

I guess I didn't have to hit him... Not so hard anyway.

So now you know.

I'm the one who killed Pete Gerakaris.

- I can't believe it. - Believe it.

The first time I saw that guy, I just got a feeling in my gut.

But even if it's true, I mean,

There's still the question: who killed Walter?

Well, we still got half a tape to go.

So there I was with a stiff on my hands...

And a damn heavy one too.

I figured nobody would believe I...

needed to kill a sloppy drunk like Pete to defend myself.

So I had to make it look like an accident.

And it would've worked, if that busybody Fletcher dame hadn't stuck her nose in it.

That lard-bottomed lawman would've bought the whole scheme.

Sheriff, doesn't it seem odd that Pete was working under the car with no tools?

Well, could be he was just checkin' things out.

Well, the portable work light

is all the way over there on that bench.

Uh, so as not to overexert his gray cells,

Tugman jumped to the most obvious conclusion.

Grange.

I wasn't able to hang that liquor store homicide on him.

This time I'll get that lowlife.

Ah, that plan suited me fine.

As a matter of fact, I figured I could punch up the scenario.

I, uh, waited till Grange had passed through

to pick up Flora...

for his daily terrorization of this sorry excuse for a town.

Ah, it was perfect.

Just what I needed for the setup.

It wasn't difficult to get that

hick sheriff to go back to the garage.

I don't have to listen to some dead jerk call me names.

- Sheriff... - Look, I got Murray's confession...

- That's all I need. - But we still don't know who shot Walter,

and I'm sure he's going to get to it.

If he lived long enough to finish his story, that is.

All right.

Well, he better finish it soon.

Sure enough, Tugman fell for it.

I couldn't have written him any dumber.

Let him go! Come on!

Let him go! Stop it!

Let him... Let him go, you pig!

You'd better lay off him, Flora.

That copper likes being beaten up.

It's the only way a woman ever touches him.

- Watch your head. - Yeah, right!

A woman touching you is something you're a recent expert on.

Grange! Grange!

I hadn't considered how this would affect Flora.

I should've realized Flora's a girl who knows how to take care of herself.

- Hi. - Hi, kid.

Can I come in, just for a minute?

Yeah, sure. I'd like that.

I guess I sort of want to...

apologize about what I said earlier.

I didn't mean that you and Vera, that...

Well, that you had, you know, this thing going.

It's OK.

Ah, you're a pretty good kid after all, huh?

But I was just thinking.

I mean now that my...

Well, now that Pete's dead and the sheriff arrested Grange,

I can't really count on Pete's money or Grange's bike

to get me out of this one-diner town.

But you're just passing through, right?

I mean, maybe you want some company back in L.A.

Uh, sit down, kid.

You know, Flora,

The big city isn't all it's cracked up to be...

it eats kids like you alive.

I ought to know. I've been on both sides of that fence.

Maybe you'd be better off just... stickin' around here with your mother.

I wouldn't hang around this cow town

even if my mother wasn't here.

Wait a minute.

I was thinking about sticking around here myself for a while.

Look, I'm packed up and ready to roll.

If you're not gonna help me,

I'm just gonna find another way out.

Flora, honey, don't go! Please. Baby, look. Honey.

Please, my whole life, everything I've done was for you, baby.

Baby, but this isn't what it looks like.

Really, it isn't.

I always knew that you were a cheap waitress.

I just should've figured you for a cheap tramp too.

I mean, I had to get it from somewhere.

- You're not a tramp. - Sure I am.

Seems it's the only way I can get free of you.

Free of me...

You don't get it, do you?

- I hate you. - No.

I hate the greasy smell of you.

I hate the way that you got yourself

stuck in this... This truck stop!

It's not gonna happen to me!

Flora!

Just when everything was going so well too.

That Fletcher dame kept leaning on me...

about when we were gonna blow this fruitsicle stand.

Anyway, I figured I ought to have a chat...

with that missing link who was working on my car.

Little did I know that that ape was about to drop a coconut on my head.

Still don't have that water pump licked?

Water pump's fine... Always has been.

Well, I guess my ears need cleaning. I thought Pete said...

Pete said too much.

Maybe that's what got him killed.

He drank too much too.

It's the reason I kept his Chevy up on the lift,

so he couldn't drive it when he was drunk.

You thought it might get him killed?

- Guess it did. - Lucky guy to have a friend like you.

I don't know that you'd call us friends.

He thought I liked his wife too much.

Gerakaris and I were in the service together before he met her.

I always knew she was no good.

I guess that's why I liked her.

The service... Is that were you got the limp?

- I got it dancing. - Sorry.

- Don't be. - If that's the way you want it.

That's the way it is.

Roscoe knew something. That was clear.

But what? How much?

About this car of yours... Somebody disconnected the fuel line.

Maybe somebody who wanted an excuse...

to stick around here and do something.

- Do something? - Something got done.

Not by that biker neither.

I happen to know that his glove didn't just walk in here.

- Gloves don't walk. - They need a hand.

So do I.

He wanted money and for me to clear out.

Ah, he was a problem with only one solution.

I told him I had to go into town to cash a check,

but... that I'd bring him the money later that night.

He told me how to get out of his place.

I figured he wasn't so smart after all.

Nobody had found the murder weapon, remember?

I figured if I planted it in Roscoe's car,

I could make it look like Roscoe killed Pete.

Everybody knew he had a thing for Vera.

And if I played it right, it'd look like Roscoe tried to kill me...

because I was onto him.

And everybody'd understand that,

well, I had to kill him in self-defense.

It seemed like a good script to me,

but Roscoe wasn't crazy about the role I'd written for him.

Have you got the money?

Sure.

Well, so...

So now you know the whole story.

I killed Pete to get Vera.

I killed Roscoe to keep her.

And now she's gonna be all alone.

Well they always said...

Walter Murray was good at irony.

Well, we'd better go to Roscoe's.

Well, it all wraps up like Murray described.

I guess I'll have to release Grange. Damn.

- Sheriff, doesn't it seem strange that... - Now, don't you start with me.

I've got me a confession on tape,

and I wasn't there, so nobody can accuse me

of beatin' it out of him.

But that's what bothers me, Sheriff: his confession.

Why didn't he come and talk to me

instead of putting it on tape?

Maybe he was afraid you'd disagree with him.

But is that any reason not to seek help for a gunshot wound?

He knew he was dead meat, OK?

I mean, uh,

maybe that was his way of making his peace, ma'am.

I'm sorry, Sheriff,

but there's something peculiar about Walter's whole story.

I mean, if he and Vera wanted to get together again,

why not run away or divorce Pete?

But why was it necessary for him to kill Pete?

Why are you making such a big deal out of this?

Even supposin' that he told a lie on his deathbed...

which I've never heard of in my life... What's it matter?

What's it matter? Aren't you interested in bringing the killer to justice?

Well, sure, that's my job. But look...

If it makes you happy,

I'll have the state cops run caliber and fingerprint tests.

They ought to be here pretty soon, OK?

Well, thank you, Sheriff.

That certainly will be a good start.

Start? Listen, as far as I'm concerned,

I've already got my favorite kind of killer...

A dead one.

Oh. I thought I'd straighten up the room.

Maybe I'll feel better if I put things right.

- Yeah. Let me help you. - No. No, don't bother. It's all right.

Well, Tugman took Walter's things?

It was state police, actually.

I imagine they'll return them when they're done.

Sure. They'll return it to the next of kin.

I mean, I just... hoped I could find...

something to remember him by.

I guess I'll remember him anyway.

It's just a room, right?

It's a room in a dingy motel in the middle of nowhere,

and it's the only place

I've been anything close to happy in 20 years.

So, you drivin' back to L.A. soon?

Well, I'm afraid that I don't drive.

In fact, I was meaning to ask you about the bus.

Oh. The interstate already came through today.

- It's not due again to tomorrow mornin'. - My Lord.

If you did get stuck here, I'd sure be glad of the company.

And I mean, I've been thinkin'.

Fact is, I should be movin' on myself.

But where would I go?

I just don't understand.

After all those years, I find him again, and...

It doesn't seem fair, does it?

When I looked up and I saw his face...

Jessica, I don't get it.

Why would God go to all that trouble

to create this incredible coincidence,

then just snatch him away like that?

Vera, I'm not so sure...

that Walter and I turning up here was a coincidence.

He insisted on renting the car and driving from Las Vegas to Los Angeles.

Now, it would've been far quicker for us to fly.

Now, do you have any idea...

how he could've known where you were?

No. I didn't... He didn't even know my married name.

I don't figure...

I just saw Tugman outside with the state cops. What gives?

Honey, something terrible's happened.

They finally sent out the health inspector?

No. Walter's dead.

What?

Mom, my God.

- Well, it's gonna be all right. - It's-

Walter was very likable, wasn't he,

despite his tough-guy shell?

Well, Flora hardly knew him. I mean, how could she?

He... He just seemed like a real nice man. That's all.

- Wasn't he, Mom? - Nice.

That's why I can't believe his confession.

- Confession? - He admitted killing both Pete and Roscoe.

He couldn't have.

That means the sheriff has to release Grange.

Oh!

Hey, Tugman. Guess you're not gonna get Grange

on this one after all, huh?

- Guess not. - You must think that's what a smile is.

So you released him. Where is he?

My gosh, Miss. I just don't know where he is.

What do you mean?

As soon as I released him, he skipped town faster than a felon in heat.

You're lying.

Grange wouldn't leave here without me.

Guess you're gonna be stuck here for a while, huh?

- Flora. - I can help you look for him.

Oh, Sheriff.

Just tryin' to be helpful, ma'am. That's my job.

Skipping town faster than a felon in heat?

Well, that's something that you...

have personal experience with...

Isn't that so, Sheriff?

I don't know who you are, Mister,

but if you know what's good for you,

I wouldn't plan on making this a relationship.

Ah.

Sheriff, did you happen to find an envelope

in Walter's clothes or maybe among his possessions?

No envelope, no stamps, no love letters.

I saw him consulting an envelope as we drove here and it isn't in his room.

I just know you can't wait to tell me how special this envelope is.

Well, I'm not sure, actually,

but I do feel certain that Walter and I

didn't arrive here accidentally.

Now look, ma'am. I got a nice, tight little case here,

- and the state police agree with me. - You're both wrong.

I'm sorry, but Walter's story doesn't make any sense.

I mean, why would Pete attack his car with a tire iron?

He was anxious for Walter to leave town.

Wrecking his car would've only prolonged our staying here.

Pete was drunk, remember?

Well, where are the dents on Walter's car?

So Murray missed a few details, he was dyin' when he made that tape.

That doesn't seem like a detail to me, Sheriff.

Now whoever killed Roscoe killed Pete, right?

Yes, it would seem so.

Now, I've got something that even you can't argue with.

Now, this is a state police report.

Now, the bullet from Murray's gun killed Roscoe.

Murray had powder burns on his hand.

Now, it's all here in black and white,

including a report of Pete's murder.

Uh, might I see those reports, Sheriff?

Oh, ma'am, you can have this copy

as a little souvenir of your stay here,

which I assume is coming to a close.

Oh, Mr. Desmond,

you wouldn't happen to have an extra cup, would you?

Oh, yes, absolutely.

It seems our hostess has made some excellent coffee this morning.

I'm sure she won't mind us availing ourselves of some.

- There you are. - Thank you.

Uh, Mr. Desmond, I hope you don't mind me asking you,

But, uh, you seem to have had some sort of...

previous acquaintanceship with Sheriff Tugman.

I find it rather amusing that he's been able

to secure gainful employment, especially as a sheriff.

It restores my lack of faith in the Amercan justice system.

Uh...

I'm sorry, I, uh... I don't follow you.

In the Old West, many a lawman started as a desperado...

A man on the wrong side of the law.

Oh, I see. And how, Mr. Desmond,

did you find all this out about Sheriff Tugman?

Excuse me. Uh, I'm looking for a Ms. Gerakaris.

I'm Mrs. Gerakaris.

Oh. Terence Locke.

Wide West Life Insurance Company?

Look, this really isn't the very best time

for you to try to sell me life insurance.

I'm not here to sell life insurance.

I'm here to pay some off.

Specifically to resolve the matter...

of one Mr. Peter Gerakaris's $250,000 life insurance policy.

Two... hundred and fifty?

Two... He never told me.

Well, didn't you call our company yesterday...

about two hours after your husband passed away?

No.

Oh.

And there's no way it could've been an accident?

Oh, no, I'm afraid not. Not with the blows to the head.

That couldn't have been caused by the car?

Well, not according to this report.

Well, then I'm gonna need to speak to the local authorities.

Perhaps you could show me the way to the sheriff's office.

Well, I'd be happy to,

but I don't know how much good Sheriff Tugman is going to be.

- Mmm. - Uh, Mr. Locke,

you mentioned that you'd had a phone call from a Ms. Gerakaris.

Is that how the caller identified herself?

Well, actually, I'm not sure.

My secretary told me that a woman had called. She hadn't identified herself.

- I assumed that it was the beneficiary. - Mm-hmm.

Now, why did you have to get him all stirred up?

Sheriff, Mr. Locke came here with his own agenda.

Not unlike Mr. Desmond, who just happened to arrive

at the truck stop when all this started.

That snot-nosed pip-squeak.

Sheriff, goodness knows you're a master at masking your feelings,

but I sense that you've had some problems

with Desmond before?

Yeah. Years ago down in Texas,

that slimy piece of uppity pond crap tried to obtain...

an article of merchandise that I was protectin'.

Oh, you were a sheriff in Texas?

Well, you might say I had private accounts.

I have informed the company that,

I agree with your theory of Mr. Gerakaris's death,

Mrs. Fletcher.

And just, uh, what might that be?

Well, you remember the state police report

that you were kind enough to give me?

I knew I'd regret that.

Well, the description of Pete's head wounds

indicates that he was clubbed from behind.

Oh, of course. So what?

Well, on the tape, Walter said

Pete was coming straight at him...

when he hit him with the tire iron,

which would seem to mean that he clubbed Pete from the front.

So he wanted us to think he killed Pete in self-defense.

Now forgive me, Sheriff, but if Walter wanted

whoever heard that tape to believe that he killed Pete,

and he knew he was dying, why make it seem like self-defense?

You believe that Mr. Murray was lying to protect somebody else?

- Who? - Well, I'm not sure.

But the medical examiner indicated

that the wounds from the tire iron...

weren't deep enough to kill Pete.

Which has to make me wonder,

who would've clubbed Pete from behind,

but not hard enough to kill him?

- A woman, perhaps? - Perhaps.

Perhaps the same woman who phoned you.

The same woman who is the beneficiary.

Oh, that'd work out great for you, wouldn't it, Locke?

You wouldn't have to pay the policy

if the beneficiary was the murderer.

Well, I know Vera, and she can be nice and nasty,

but she's not the kind of woman that'd club her husband.

Sheriff, Mrs. Fletcher, there is something I haven't told you.

Until I was sure of the lay of the land,

I felt I had to keep it confidential.

Yeah, I can hardly wait.

Mrs. Gerakaris is not the beneficiary.

Her daughter Flora is.

You've met her. What do you think?

Could Flora have killed her father?

Mr. Locke, there's every reason to believe

that Pete wasn't Flora's father.

What?

I believe that Walter Murray was.

And if I could figure that out, then Flora could too.

The first night we were there, there was a very ugly scene.

I was watching from my room.

Don't talk back! You're a tramp like your mother!

At the time, I thought that Pete was referring

to Flora's behavior with Grange.

But it could be that he figured out that Flora was Walter's daughter.

How?

Roscoe could have told him.

Earlier, I'd seen Roscoe snooping around outside Walter's motel room.

And I'm fairly certain that's when Vera told Walter that Flora was his daughter.

What makes you think that?

Uh, their reactions, how they looked...

and the difference in the way that...

that Walter related to Flora after that.

I mean, when he first met her, he...

He almost came on to her.

But after that, he became, well, fatherly.

Flora could've killed Pete to prevent him from changing the beneficiary...

now that he knew that she wasn't his daughter.

Mr. Locke, there may be a way to prove

whether Flora killed Pete.

If you don't mind helping me out.

Mrs. Fletcher. I'm kind of busy right now.

Of course, Flora. I'm sorry to bother you.

But before I left, I just wanted to say

how sorry I am about your father's death.

- Pete was a pig. - I'm also sorry about Pete's death.

Guess everyone figured that one out, huh? Except me.

Mom just told me about a half hour ago.

Pretty stupid,

losing your real father before you've even been properly introduced.

I see you're packing.

Hey, how are you gettin' out of here?

Oh. Well, Mr. Locke

Is gonna give me a lift back to Los Angeles...

as soon as he finishes his business.

Locke? Who's that?

Oh, he's here to pay off Pete's life insurance policy to your mother.

How long is that gonna take? Think he can fit one more?

I'll see what I can do.

And if you'll just sign these forms, Mrs. Gerakaris,

Our headquarters in L.A. will send the check out to you in a couple of days.

Sure, but what are they for?

Oh, it's just a technicality

because the beneficiary is a minor.

- A minor? - Your daughter.

- Flora? No, that's... - Not exactly what you had planned?

I don't know what you're talking about.

I mean, naturally, I'm surprised

'cause, you know, you figured that...

Oh. You know what?

It makes me really happy that Pete

remembered to leave somethin' for Flora.

Well, I must say you've handled this very well... Better than most.

But you did make one little mistake.

Mr. Locke, if I understand you correctly,

I think you better watch your step.

Now, that is where I'm supposed to sign, right?

Hmm.

You forgot to destroy the letter.

I don't know what you're talking about.

The letter... that you mailed Mr. Murray.

Oh.

Now listen, Mr. Locke, and listen very carefully.

I'm gonna have to go out that door,

and I'm gonna call up your company.

And I'm gonna tell 'em that...

unless they wanna be involved in a huge lawsuit,

they're gonna fire you right now.

Oh.

Bad girl!

You shouldn't smoke in bed, honey!

Get your hands off of me!

It's just an envelope. Remember, I told you

I wanted something of Walter's to remember him by.

And that's why you're burning it?

I imagine it won't be difficult to prove...

that it's addressed to Walter in your handwriting, Vera.

So?

OK, I wrote to him. So what?

Quite honestly what bothered me most

was the compounding of coincidences.

Walter happening to suggest that we drive back to Los Angeles,

then happening to detour off the interstate,

then happening to find the woman

he hadn't seen in 19 years.

You can strap me to a lie detector.

I haven't seen him in any of that time.

No, but you did write to him recently

and let him know where to find you.

Walter consulted the directions he'd written

on this envelope when we drove here.

So...

Are you saying that I killed Pete? I mean, is that it?

For what? A plugged nickel?

For what you believed you'd receive.

Flora didn't know anything about Pete's insurance policy.

It hardly seems likely that a girl who expects

a quarter of a million dollars

would jump at every chance to get out of town before she's paid off.

You didn't even make it sporting.

You clubbed that poor drunk slob from behind

then you rolled him under that lift

to make it look like an accident.

I was too smart for you, girlie.

I knew it wasn't no accident.

You hadn't counted on that, had you?

Not in a million years.

I imagine that's when you realized you needed help.

You must've told Walter what you'd done.

And then he took it from there, the poor sap.

He planted the glove to incriminate Grange,

He killed Roscoe, and he incriminated himself,

all to save the woman he loved...

and believed that he'd wronged all those years ago.

He never wronged me.

He was probably the only right thing that's ever happened in my life.

Don't turn on the waterworks. You set him up.

Why would I set up Walter?

Why did I stay away for 19 years?

Because when Walter left, you were carrying his child.

Sure. Flora is Walter's daughter.

I didn't even know I was pregnant

when Walter just up and disappeared one day all those years ago.

I talked to my parents and... Whoo.

They washed their hands of me with 20 Mule Team Borax.

And Pete never new?

Oh, back then, I was skinny enough

to fool him into marrying me...

and into believin' that Flora was just...

a couple of months premature.

You're a real piece of work, you know that?

Pete did figure it out at the end, didn't he?

That Flora wasn't his daughter?

That fool? No.

Roscoe told him... Good old Roscoe.

That's why I had to kill Pete.

He would've killed Walter or me or both of us.

Right, sure. And the money didn't have nothin' to do with it.

The money had a lot to do with it.

The money had everything to do with it.

Pete owed me for those 19 years, a quarter million dollars doesn't cover it.

What do you know, babe? I finally get to take you for a ride.

Flora, whatever else you do, don't let...

men mess up your life.

Okay?

Step on it.

So you still want that ride?

What about you, Mr. Desmond?

We're heading into L.A.

That's very kind of you, but I'm afraid

I've already been to Los Angeles.

And if there's one thing I've learned,

it's that one should never look back.