All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S01E19.Murder.Takes.the.Bus.WEBRip.x264-ION10.

Sir?

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Obviously, you're saying
one of us killed him.

I never saw that man before.

Happened about 15 years ago, didn't it?

I was in the bar, having a drink.

I have no idea
who this poor, dead fellow is.

If I wanted to knock this guy off,
I would've shot him.

I was working on the engine
the whole time.

I don't have to answer
your questions, lady.

[scream]

[cheerful orchestral music]

Oh, did you reach them?

Yeah, said we'd be there about eight.

Probably miss the hors d'oeuvres.

Well, no serious loss, I'm sure.

Ms. Fletcher,
the Maine Sheriffs' Association

lays out the finest
spread east of the Allegheny.

Oh, Amos.

Anyway, we'll be there
in time for the drawing.

They're giving away a big-screen TV,

and I got a feeling it's my lucky night.

Oh, I sure hope so, Amos.

Mm, would you get that to the garage?

I'll go get the tickets.

[thunder rumbling]

-What do you hope to gain?
-I'm not sure.

Look, honey,
nobody's forcing you to come.

Besides, it's between him and me.

-Well, I'm coming along, Steve.
-You suit yourself.

Just don't get in my way.

-Headin' for Boston?
-Oh, Portland.

A-yah. I like these local buses.

You can sit back and relax
and enjoy yourself.

Mmm, well, most people
can't find the time.

[chuckles]

Yeah, ridin' hard and fast

toward a date with the gravedigger.

Smell that air.

Be rain in 20 minutes. You watch.

Cyrus Leffingwell.

Oh, Jessica Fletcher.

[horn honks]

Here she comes.

[brakes squeal]

Afternoon, folks.
This is the local bus to Boston.

Stopping at Newcastle,
Brunswick, Portland,

Kennebunk, Dover, Portsmouth,
Amesbury, and Ipswich.

Be leaving in three minutes. Thank you.

Here's your ticket, Ms. Fletcher.

Oh, thank you, Amos.

-Oh! Forgot the bags.
-Ah.

Uh, my friend is bringing our things.

We just have a couple of overnight bags.

We don't need to stow them.

Yes'um.

Doesn't Andy Reardon
usually run this route?

Yes'um. Took sick with the flu.

Oh, that's too bad.

Here we are. Ms. Fletcher.

Ah, great. Thank you.

-We better get on board.
-Okay.

-Kent.
-Hmm?

Do you know who that is?

Somebody from the college?

No. That's JB Fletcher.

Oh, didn't recognize him.

Her, her, Kent.

She writes wonderful whodunits.

[exhales] Really.

Driver says we'll be there
with time to spare.

Mm-hmm.

Anyway, the drawing isn't until

the end of the evening.

That way they make sure

that no one walks out on them too early.

Oh, not that they would, Ms. Fletcher.

I mean, you're gonna have those fellas

eatin' out of your hand.

Sounds a bit messy to me, Amos.

Mm.

Next stop, Newcastle.

[thunderclap]

Where you headed?

[passenger] Uh, Portland.

It's nine, sixty.

What's the trouble?

Power lines are down.

You can get through, but watch it.

There's a lot of flooding up ahead.

[driver] Is the road open?

Yeah, but I don't know for how long.

-Okay. Thank you.
-Take care.

Excuse me.

You're JB Fletcher, aren't you?

-Yes, I am.
-Oh, I thought so.

I think you are a wonderful writer.

Why, thank you.

In fact, you're in the top ten
of my "most stolen" list.

Your what?

Most stolen. I'm a librarian.

[chuckles] We have had to
replace copies of your books...

a dozen times
over the last couple of years.

People check them out

and absolutely will not return them.

Well, I'm very flattered, I think.

[both chuckle]

Oh, I'm glad you came by.

No way out of that mess till morning.

How much to Portland?

[driver] Nine, sixty.

Say, weren't you following us
for quite a while?

I sure was.

Thought I'd be safer
with you running interference.

Sorry I passed you now. Thank you.

Uh, sorry, folks, we,
uh, seem to be having

a little engine trouble.

It's probably the wet.

You can get out and stretch your legs

if you want while I check it out.

[grunts]

Well, that didn't take long.

No, but this isn't Portland.

It isn't?

No, let's get out and get some coffee.

[groans]

At this rate,
we're gonna miss the fruit cup.

Steve, please.

Why don't you just let it be?

I told you to just stay out of this.

Now, go on.

Well, howdy, folks.

Come on in. Set yourselves down.

-Thank you.
-How'd you get through?

The radio said
the Rockwater Creek bridge

is washed out.

We're coming on down from Cabot Cove.

Is that so?

They were stopping traffic they said.

We must be the last ones to get through.

-Well, we seem to be.
-Mighty fierce storm.

Reminds me of Agnes back in '72.

I remember that one.

They were just building the interstate.

Oh, I'm soaked.

Can you tell me
where the restroom is, please?

Yeah, right down the hallway
on your right.

Thank you.

Hello, do you think I might get
a cup of black coffee, please?

Oh, two, please.

I wish now I hadn't sent the help home.

Uh, would it be too much trouble

to have a cup of tea?

-Comin' right up.
-Thank you.

Is there somewhere
a man can get a drink?

Yeah, in the bar.

It's closed now,
but if you can hold on a mite,

I'll open it.

Fine.

This is the time of year of the storms,
of course.

Statistically speaking,

the chance of rain on any day at
this time of year are about two to one.

As you can see,
my husband's mind is cluttered

with all sorts of interesting trivia.

Better a little cluttered
than an empty attic.

You'd been able to afford plane fare,
we wouldn't be stuck in this place now.

Oh, I don't know.

Many a night I've been trapped
in a storm-ridden airport.

Never bothered me.

As my late wife used to say,
rest her soul...

"Only a fool grows ulcers
over something he can't control."

Excuse me.

Well, maybe we oughta
take a look at the menu.

Here's a menu for you, ma'am.

Thank you, Amos.

I figure things the way they are,

we should get something to eat.

Probably gonna miss the potato soup.

I would think so.

I sure am sorry, ma'am.

This is turning into a miserable trip.

Oh, don't be silly, Amos. Who knows?

We may be still in time for my speech.

I sure hope so.

-Do you have a phone here, somewhere?
-Yeah, there's a payphone outside.

-Here's your tea, ma'am.
-Thank you very much.

Get you folks something to eat?

Well, I couldn't help but notice
that apple pie over there.

-It looks homemade.
-My own recipe.

Would you make that two
with a slice of cheddar

-and some black coffee, please?
-Coming right up!

[sighs] Sure had my heart set
on that TV set.

Our host is quite a baker.

Yeah, could use a touch more cinnamon.

I better call Portland,
tell 'em what's happened.

-Are we leaving now?
-I'm afraid not.

I just came in to dry off a bit.

Wonder what happened to that book?

Excuse me, Sir, Sir?

[gasps]

Well, I suppose we should
notify the bus driver,

and, uh, well, I don't suppose
we should move the body

until the local coroner arrives.

Amos, I know this isn't
under your jurisdiction,

but, I mean, the situation's obvious.

You or I or one of them...

Yes, ma'am. I see what you mean.

Well, whoever killed him
went through his pockets.

-Ironic, isn't it?
-What's that?

Well, a man is released from prison,

ready to start a new life,

only to have it cut short
only a few hours later.

Well, now, why do you say that?

He could have just as easily
been a visitor

or a guard home for the weekend.

I don't think so.

That's a new suit, Amos,
and those are new shoes.

He paid for his ticket
with crisp, new bills.

Hello, what's this?

Well, you're right.

Here's his release paper.
Name is Gilbert Stoner.

-Stoner.
-Mm-hmm.

Well, the motive
certainly was not robbery.

There's money in the billfold.

Anything else?

Just an out-of-date driver's license

and a photograph.

Someone was looking for something.

Ah.

Amos, his suitcase is missing.

Oh, I see you had the same idea I did.

I thought just as long as
we'd stopped here I'd get--

Miriam. Darling, please, it's all right.

It's not all right.

You didn't see him
sitting there with that...

That thing sticking out... of his neck.

I tried to call the police.

The lines are dead.

-Probably knocked out by the storm.
-Dead?

Do you mean to tell me we're stuck here

with that killer on the loose?

Why he'll just probably kill us all,
one by one.

Here's some nice, fresh coffee, ma'am.

It'll take the chill off and...
help stop your shakes.

How do I know it's not you. How do
I know you're not trying to poison me?

All right. Thank you, I'm sorry.

Coffee's on the house, everyone.

Uh, folks, name is Amos Tupper.

I'm the sheriff of Cabot Cove.

I realize I have
no official jurisdiction here,

but as an officer of the law,

I do have an obligation
to assume authority

until the local police arrive.

And, uh, I would appreciate
all of your cooperation.

Well, I'm sure we'd all be
happy to do so, sheriff, but,

uh, I never saw that man before.

Name is Stoner, Gilbert Stoner.

He was released from prison
this afternoon.

Amos, excuse me,

but there is something
that I seem to remember.

I came across that name
doing research for a book.

It had to do with a robbery.

I think it was a bank in Augusta.

Wait a minute.

Stoner, Stoner...
the Danvers Trust Company.

Sure, I remember that one.

It was all over the TV for weeks.

Happened about 15 years ago, didn't it?

Yes, of course.

Three men pulled that off.

They were apprehended, I believe.

A-yah, at least one of 'em was.

Amos, it might be helpful

to establish just where everyone was.

Oh, that's good thinking, Ms. Fletcher.

And, uh, I'm also gonna
need to know all of your names

and why you were on this bus.

Now, just a moment--

Obviously, you're saying
one of us killed him.

I think "obvious"
is the right word, Sir.

Unless, of course, this Stoner fellow

somehow managed
to reach up behind his head

and stab himself in the back of the neck

with a ten-inch screwdriver.

I have nothing to hide.

My name is, uh, Ken Bradford.
This is my wife, Miriam.

I'm a math teacher
at St. Eustis college.

Associate professor.

My wife is a college librarian.

The head librarian.

And we're on our way
to Boston to do research.

I was in the video alcove, over there.

I was, uh, playing "Road Hog."

"Road Hog"?

[Ken] Yeah I'm a student of
statistical probabilities and eh,

the game has challenging
mathematical parameters.

Also it's fun!

[Cyrus] He's telling the truth.

I heard him playing the game
when I was in the gift shop.

And you're--

Cyrus Leffingwell,
Woonsocket, Rhode Island.

I'm a retired postal worker, mailman.

But I have no idea
who this poor, dead fellow is.

What about you?

Steve Pascal, computer engineer.

This is my wife, Jane.
We were on our way to Portland.

I was here the whole time.

And I was outside
using the public phone.

I couldn't get through and, eventually,

the line went dead.

Excuse me, Mr. Pascal,

but I believe I saw you
through the window

talking with Mr. Stoner on the bus.

You appeared to be having
a very heated discussion.

No, not at all.

We just exchanged a few words,
that's all.

And you?

I'm Joe Downing.

I'm captain of the fishing trawler,

Mary Sue out of Gloucester.

Going back to my ship
after visiting family, and,

like this gentleman,

I've never heard of the dead man before.

I was in the bar having a drink.

Carey Drayson.

I was in the men's room
drying off my clothes

on the radiator.

If my car hadn't skidded off the road,

I wouldn't even have been here.

Mr. Drayson, that may be true,

but under the circumstances
I'd feel a lot better

if you explained to the sheriff
why you're wearing a gun.

-A gun?
-Oh, good Lord, Kent!

This is my permit
to carry a concealed weapon.

I'm a jewelry salesman.

I carry valuables in that case,
and I have to protect myself.

All the same, I think it would be better

if you handed it over.

Well, I'm sorry, sheriff.

Like you said,
you have no jurisdiction here.

If there's a killer on the loose,

I want to protect myself.

Besides, if I wanted to
knock this guy off,

I would've shot him,
not used a screwdriver.

Yes, I was gonna ask you about that.

Hey, wait a minute.

I left my toolbox open
in the front of the bus.

Anybody could've taken
that screwdriver out,

anybody in this room.

I was working on the engine
the whole time.

Yes, but if you were that close,

you must've heard something.

Well, I heard voices raised,
and I-I thought I heard

somebody getting on and off the bus,

but I didn't pay much attention.

[thunderclap]

Oh!

This is a fearsome storm.

Mr. Pascal, you'll forgive me,

but you and the victim were not,
as you claimed,

having a quiet discussion.

I'm also quite sure
that your resemblance

to the gentleman in this photo
is more than coincidental.

It would be very helpful if you could

identify these people.

I don't have to answer
your questions, lady,

not yours, not anybody's.

Steve.

Steve didn't kill that man.

I know he didn't.

Mrs. Pascal,
what about the man in the photo?

He was Steve's father.

Was?

He was killed
during the Danvers robbery,

along with an innocent bystander,
a woman.

Stoner and the other man got away,

but they caught Stoner three days later.

But the other man, what happened to him?

They never caught him,

and they never recovered
the money from the robbery.

As I recall, it was about $200,000.

Over half a million.

Ma'am, this, uh, missing fella,

do you or your husband know who he was?

-No, I'm sorry.
-Mm.

I better take charge of this.

It's probably best
if we all stick together.

Ralph, why don't you put on
another pot of coffee, huh?

Good idea.

[beeping]

-Who is in there?
-Uh, no one.

But that's just the point.

And down at the end of this hallway

is a door leading to the outside.

Huh, that means that the professor

could've gone outside
without being seen.

And so could've the mailman

or any of the others for that matter.

And-and there's a door
that leads to the outside

from the bar and one in the kitchen.

So where does that leave us?

Outside.

-What?
-You were gonna check outside.

Oh. Yes, ma'am, I sure was.

You wanna come along?

-Oh, absolutely.
-Okay.

Well, bus driver was right.

Anyone could've taken
the screwdriver out.

That's true.

Excuse me, Amos.

Yeah.

-What ya looking for?
-I wish I knew.

Hey, wait a minute. Why is that on?

-Well, what is it?
-That's a damper switch.

I used to be a bus driver
for a whole summer

before I joined the department.

Excuse me, Ms. Fletcher,
I gotta check something out.

-I wanna talk to you.
-I thought you might.

Look, I'm sorry
I lost my temper in there,

but I didn't kill Stoner.

Mr. Pascal, could you please
help me with this suitcase?

Everything's getting wetter
by the minute and so am I.

This clothing has been ripped apart.

Well, maybe they found
what they were looking for.

Maybe not.

Mr. Stoner had a--had
an overcoat and a book with him.

Now that should've been
with the suitcase.

It doesn't make sense.

Hmm.

Mr. Pascal,
suppose you tell the sherriff,

what you and Mr. Stoner argued about.

Yeah, why not?

I was in junior high school
when my dad was killed.

From that day on, my life was hell.
I mean...

I was the son of a thief.

All right, it's true. I took the bus
in order to meet Stoner

because I wanted my father's share of
the money. After what I've been through

I figured I deserved it.

At least, that's what I thought,
until I talked to him.

What did he say to you
that made you change your mind?

[Steve] It wasn't what he said,
it's what he was...

A mean, pitiful wreck of a man.

His scheme ruined his entire life
just like it ruined my father's.

I made up my mind,
it wasn't going to ruin mine

so I just walked away from him
and left him alone on the bus.

And that was it?

My wife was right... It's better to
let the past remain what it is.

Mr. Pascal,
I need to know one more thing.

How did you know that Mr. Stoner
was going to be released today?

That's no secret,
in Tuesday's newspaper.

Let me see that.

"Notorious bank robber to be released.

Fifteen years ago,
Danvers Trust Company"

[mumbles]

Ah, here's something.

"During the thieves' escape attempt,

an innocent bystander,
Julie Gibbons, 16, was killed,

along with one of the criminals,
Everett Pascal."

Gibbons?

That's right, Julie Gibbons.

And our bus driver is named Ben Gibbons.

Well, that seals it then, huh?

Seals what, Amos?

You may not believe this, Ms. Fletcher,

but I knew who our killer was
a half hour ago.

As I said, I have no
official jurisdiction here.

But I can make a citizen's arrest,

and that's what I plan to do.

Ben Gibbons,
I'm placing you under arrest

for the murder of Gilbert Stoner.

You're crazy. I didn't do it.

Oh, yes, you did.

When Ms. Fletcher turned on
the ignition key in the bus,

I noticed that the damper switch was on.

Now, that's an emergency switch
to be used only when the engine

starts to run away.

The engine can't be started again

once that switch is thrown

without the damper being reset by hand.

-Amos, are you sure?
-Yes, ma'am.

Now, the damper
is in the engine compartment

way in the back, and you can't reach it

without using some kind of a tool

like a very long screwdriver.

Now, that means that
nobody took that screwdriver

out of your tool kit,

because you had it with you
all the time.

Mr. Gibbons, at the time of the holdup,

an innocent bystander was killed,

a young woman named Julie Gibbons.

She was my daughter.

Suppose you tell us what happened.

A day hasn't gone by
that I haven't thought of

revenging her death.

Then I heard that Stoner
was gonna be let out.

I traded routes
with the regular bus driver.

You were right.

I staged the bus breakdown,

and I went back
and worked on the damper,

waiting for him to be alone.

When I went back in the bus,

he was sleeping in his seat like a baby,

like he didn't have
her blood on his conscience.

That he should be alive
and my little girl dead,

I just went crazy.

I raised up my arm
and drove that screwdriver

down into his neck.

[sobbing]

Well, thank God that's over with.

I wish it were, Mr. Leffingwell.

But, I'm sorry. It isn't.

That man was not killed
by the screwdriver.

Now hold on, ma'am.
You just heard his confession.

Yes, yes, Amos,
and I'm sure that Mr. Gibbons

is convinced that he killed Mr. Stoner.

Oh, he stabbed him all right.

But Stoner was not sleeping.
He was already dead.

That's preposterous.

How could you possibly know that?

Because, Mr. Drayson,
there was virtually no blood

on the screwdriver
and very little around the wound.

-She's right.
-How can that be?

Postmortem lividity.

I should've thought of it at the time.

The blood had begun to settle
in the lower parts of the body.

He was killed earlier,
oh, at least 15 or 20 minutes.

The bruises on his neck.

But-but, he was sleeping. I know it.

I killed him. I know I did!

I'm sorry, Mr. Gibbons,

but I'm sure
that the coroner will confirm

that he died of strangulation,
not stabbing.

-Kent, how can you eat?
-Why not? Being hungry doesn't help.

No good. Phone's still out.

You'd think the state police
would stop by,

if only to check on things.

Mm.

My son has a CB back in the office.

I don't know how to use it,
but if anyone else does,

they're more than welcome to try.

Oh, I know how. Let me see it.

Sure thing. Back this way.

That's more like it.

Last year, took my vacation in Hawaii,
it rained.

Year before that, Athens. It rained.

-This year, rained again.
-Next year, try North Africa,

They have the smallest amount
of rainfall in the world.

Statistically speaking of course.

Never had much use for camels.

This is Carey Drayson,

calling from the Kozy Korner Kitchen

on Route one.

Is anyone receiving me? Over, please.

Any luck?

Route one calling.

Anyone receiving me? Over, please.

Maybe it's too much to expect
in this weather.

Yeah, maybe.

Mr. Drayson,
I don't want to appear rude,

but for a man who carries a gun,
you're awfully careless.

What is that supposed to mean?

You left a valuable jewelry sample case
in the other room.

Anyone with sticky fingers
or big pockets

could've left you holding an empty bag.

That is, if the case contained jewelry,

which I seriously doubt.

Would you mind if Sheriff Tupper
took a look inside?

Uh, don't bother, Ms. Fletcher.

I'm an investigator for the company

that insured the Danvers Trust robbery.

And you've been assigned
to follow Mr. Stoner

from the prison in the hope

that he'll lead you to the stolen money.

That's right.

Looks like that'll be
a little more difficult now.

Yes, I should think so.

On the other hand,
perhaps all is not lost.

If we find the killer,
maybe we'll find the money too.

Well, I'm not sure it's that simple.

Kent and I didn't want children.

Of course, it's just as well.
On our salaries, who can afford them?

You think we can?

Thanks.

Amos, obviously,
who ever took Stoner's suitcase

was looking for something.
The question is, did they find it?

More than likely,
it was Stoner's ex-partner.

Which one of these fellas is it?

[Amos] Is it the mailman or the college
professor, the sea captain?

-Could even be Ralph.
-See the part that doesn't fit is this:

If Stoner's suitcase showed up,
where's his overcoat?

And that book that he carried?

Yeah, there's something odd about that.

Unless... Amos, let's go!

-Go? Go where?
-To the bus.

But Mrs. Fletcher,
it's mighty wet out there.

[Amos] Oh, I think--I think--

[sneezes]

I think I'm catching a cold.

Hmm, just what I thought.

Oh, you think I'm catching a cold too?

This isn't where Stoner was sitting.

Is that so?

Now, I was sitting right here.

Well, this was Stoner's seat.

Aha, his overcoat and the book.

The Night The Hangman Sang
by Hamilton Pound.

First edition. Huh. Strange.

The dust jacket is in tatters,

and yet some of the pages
aren't even cut.

[thunderclap]

Oh, now what?

Now, just stay calm, everybody.

Ralph, have you got a flashlight?

Yeah.

Right here.

Do you have any candles?

Oh, we don't need 'em.

We have a generator out back.

We'll have plenty of light
before you know it.

I'll give you a hand.

[sighs]

Funny, this reminds me of camp
when I was a little girl,

sitting around in the dark
telling ghost stories.

Only this time the monsters are real.

When was the last time
you used this thing?

Two, maybe three years ago.
Worked fine then.

[gunshot]

That came from the office. Mr. Drayson.

-What happened?
-He's been shot.

-It's only a flesh wound.
-Drayson, who did it?

I-I don't know.

Sheriff, they smashed up the CB

someone sure doesn't want us
to call out of here.

Well, whoever it is, now has the gun.

[Amos] The gun seems to be missing,
Ms. Fletcher.

Well, it must be
around here somewhere, Amos.

I think we oughta try the phones again.

The lines may be fixed by now.

All right. Ralph, you go with him.

I don't want anybody
to be left alone right now.

You understand.

You know,
I think the storm is letting up.

[thunderclap]

-Damn, that hurts.
-Allow me, miss.

A sailor has to know
how to take care of himself

and his mates.

Because when you're on the sea,

you're on an island unto yourself,
as they say.

That's fine work, Captain Downing.

Thanks.

Are you absolutely certain
you can't identify

the person who hit you?

Well, I wish I could.
I was calling on the CB

someone came up from behind me

and hit me in the back of the head.

I went for my gun, and it went off.

The next thing I knew,
I was on the floor,

and a few minutes later
you people came in.

Why would someone
want to cut us off from outside?

Because his work isn't finished yet.

We're still alive.

Well, it may be less deadly
than that, Mrs. Radford.

I mean, after all, our attacker
could have killed Mr. Drayson

if he wanted to.

Perhaps he wanted to find something

that Stoner had
and didn't want any interference

until he had located it.

-Located what?
-[Jessica] I'm not sure.

Maybe something that might
lead to the missing money.

Amos, Mr. Stoner's book has disappeared.

Oh, first the gun, now the book.

What next?

Now, wait a minute.

How could anyone steal the book

and then run back to the office
and hit Drayson over the head?

There wasn't time.

They couldn't have known how long

the lights were gonna be out.

Maybe the killer had an accomplice.

If we could just establish
where everyone was

before the lights went out.

Well, Steve and I were right here.

So you say.

-What is that supposed to mean?
-[Capt.] Listen, stop fighting.

It was dark.
Who knows where anybody was.

Well, the office phone's still out.

So's the pay phone.

We'll try again in a half hour or so.

Well, why don't we
just try getting out of here?

Oh, no. Hey, that's too dangerous.

The road may not be open yet.

This is safe?

I'd rather take my chances on the bus.

Now, look, folks.
The bus driver is right.

I'm afraid we're all stuck here
for a few hours at least.

If we live that long.

Strange you should say that,
Mrs. Radford.

Assuming that one of the men here

is in reality
the third member of the trio

who committed the robbery.

Well, don't you think you're jumping

to an awful big conclusion, ma'am?

Well, maybe so, but one thing I do know:

there was someone on the bus
that Stoner was afraid of.

I could see the look on his face

when he got on
and looked at the passengers behind me.

But let's get back to the missing book.

You were right, sheriff.

There wasn't time for anyone
to steal the book

and then attack Drayson.

Well, then, where would they take it?

Well, forgive me,
and this is hypothetical,

but it could have been slipped
into a large knitting bag.

And who better to know
the value of a book

than a librarian?

That's outrageous.

And insulting as well, Mrs. Fletcher.

Why don't we take a look?

No, no, no, absolutely not.

Oh, now, for heaven's sake, Miriam.

If she wants to make a fool of herself,

why don't you just let her do it.

Here, Mrs. Fletcher, it's, um--

Well, I'll be damned.

Miriam, you took the book.

Why?

Because a dead man
doesn't need the money

you can get for a rare first edition
and we do.

But that's just an old detective novel.

Oh, I'm afraid not, Mr. Radford.

-You recognize it then?
-Yes.

This is the only detective novel

this author ever wrote.

There are very few copies in print.

-How much is it worth?
-Nearly two thousand dollars.

It would be worth even more,

but the jacket's torn,
and the binding's been damaged.

It was published around the time

that Stoner was arrested.

He had it all the time.

But as the pages weren't even cut,

he didn't buy it to read.

[chuckles]

A safe deposit key.

Is that what you were looking for,
Captain Downing?

Or should I say, Mr. Downing,
or whatever your name is.

I think you can drop the pretense

of being a sailor.

A real sailor would've tied
a square knot.

Not a granny, as you did.

[Amos] My overcoat!

I figured you wouldn't
look in your own pocket.

Now stand still!

Don't anybody do anything stupid.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'll take that key now.

[wind whipping]

[gunshot]

[glass shatters]

That makes the whole trip worthwhile.

Well, I'll say it again.

Thank goodness that's over with.

[grunts]

You're not gonna pin
Stoner's murder on me.

I didn't kill him.

You can tell that
to the local authorities

when the storm clears.

I'm telling you, sheriff.

He was already dead
when I got on the bus.

Yeah, I went through his pockets.

I-I got his suitcase.

But I'm telling you,
he was already dead.

So you're the one
that knocked me out then?

Well, I had to. I was buying some time.

I knew that Stoner
had hidden the money somewhere,

and I wanted to find out where

before we had any more cops
nosing around.

So you were Stoner's other partner?

Yeah, the-the weasel double-crossed me.

He split with the money,
and he hid it away.

So Mrs. Fletcher was right.

It was you he was afraid of
when he got on the bus,

you he recognized
in spite of that stupid getup.

[Downing] I'm not stupid, Sonny.

You think I'm gonna
pull something on the bus

when all the cops have to do
is check to see who I was?

I mean, it wouldn't take 'em long

to put it all together,

not with my motive.

That's why it's so dumb
to think I killed him

when I'm stuck here
like a rat in a cage.

Like I said, the local authorities

will take charge of this when it clears.

Amos, I am--I am so sorry.

I've been so stupid, you know.

-This gentleman is telling the truth.
-What?

Not only that,
but you were right all along.

And forgive me for not seeing it.

I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't understand.

Oh, it's true, isn't it, Mr. Gibbons?

You did kill Mr. Stoner, didn't you?

Well, ma'am, I stabbed him in the neck.

Like you said, I told you that.

But what you didn't tell us

is that you also strangled him earlier.

You actually killed him twice.

Well, now, ma'am, I'm sorry, but--

No, Mr. Gibbons.

I'm sorry because I don't really think

you meant to kill him, but you did,

and I think it can be proved.

You sure about that?

When the sheriff and I
first discovered the body,

I noticed there were
small flecks of grease

on Mr. Stoner's collar and lapels.

[Jessica]
I filed that away and then dismissed it

when you confessed to
the screwdriver stabbing.

If the stabbing occurred as you said,

you never would've put your hands

on the front of his shirt or jacket.

You stabbed him from behind.

I didn't start out to kill him.

I really didn't.

I just wanted him to know
how much hurt he had caused.

Everybody had got off the bus
except Stoner and the young guy.

I was working around the engine,
just stalling,

waiting for Stoner to be alone.

He was mean, cold-mean.

He said he didn't give a damn
about some dumb kid

that just happened to get in the way.

He had done his time,

and there was nothing anybody could do.

"Dumb kid."

The sweetest little girl
you ever saw in your life.

Well, all of a sudden,
I just went crazy.

I couldn't think about anything
but killing him.

When I got off the bus,
I was shaking so hard,

I thought I was going to pass out.

I realized what I'd done.

I had killed a man.

I was no better than he had been.

Just then, I saw the captain

come out of the diner
and get on the bus.

I thought I was a goner.

But when I looked in the window,

the captain was
going through Stoner's pockets.

Then he grabbed the suitcase
and took off.

I just--I just stood there
for a few minutes

trying to figure out what to do.

That's when I knew

I had to stab him in the neck
with the screwdriver.

But why?

Guess you know the answer to that.

You knew the coroner would figure out

that Stoner died of strangulation

and not a stab wound.

By confessing to killing Stoner
with a screwdriver,

no one would figure
you were the original killer.

As Mr. Downing said a few moments ago,

the police would check backgrounds,

prior relationships.

Downing thought he'd be a key,
perhaps the only suspect.

You thought the only way
to escape arrest

for Mr. Stoner's murder
was to confess it.

Poor fella.
I feel kind of sorry for him.

I do too, Mr. Leffingwell.

But I do think that a good lawyer

can probably make a good case
for temporary insanity,

and in this case, it may be justified.

You're not joining us on the bus?

Oh, no, Sheriff Tupper and I
are going back to Cabot Cove.

In that case, it's been
a great pleasure, dear lady.

The pleasure was mine, Mr. Leffingwell.

Amos, what's wrong?

Well, they sure missed you
at the banquet, Ms. Fletcher.

When you didn't show, Sheriff Bingley

ad-libbed a speech for almost an hour.

Bingley loves to hear
the sound of his own voice.

Oh, dear.

Yeah, but that's not the worst of it.

After his speech, they had
a drawing for the big TV set?

I knew we should've been there.

Oh, Amos, I'm so sorry.

But as nice as that TV set
might've been,

I'm sure you can live without it.

But it wasn't my name they drew,
Ms. Fletcher.

-It was yours.
-What?