Original subtitles

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

He was in bed with another man's wife.

This case is not as simple as it seems.

This is a man's life we're deciding.

And most of us here are of a mind to let him keep it.

This jury has just been hung by this...

gentleman with the open mind.

Hey, we're 12 reasonably intelligent people here.

We ought to be able to sort this thing out.

If it wasn't premeditated, then it had to be self defense.

There's nothing else.

But there is something else.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

-have you reached a verdict? -We have, your honor.

[police radio chatter]

Get-get through.

Get through.

Watch out. Watch out. Easy.

Careful. Watch it.

Careful, now.

I'm all right. I'm all right.

-Take care of her. -Don't move.

[groaning]

Use that wrecker to get that car out of here now.

I should have made her wear the seat belt.

I should've made her.

She never wanted to wear her seat belt.

She always felt like she was gonna be trapped.

Babe, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Oh, she's not-- she's not going to die, is she?

Steph, I'm sorry.

She isn't gonna die, is she?

[groans] I don't understand.

-Why? -It was the kid.

It was the kid on the bike.

I swerved to avoid him. Oh, my God.

It was my fault.

Oh, it should have been me. It should have been me.

When can I talk to her?

Well, we'll know more about that in the morning.

The paramedic said you fractured your collarbone.

No, it's all right. I'm all right.

All right.

Well, if you'd like to be with her--

No, no, I can't-- I can't look at her

knowing that I'm the one that--

I understand that.

Well, if she does regain consciousness,

it won't be for, oh, several hours.

Look, Mr. Reynolds,

your wife has a good chance of surviving,

but, well, I'm afraid she may never walk again.

There was severe spinal damage.

-I'm sorry. -Oh, my God.

-Oh, my God! -Mr. Reynolds!

Oh, wow!

Hey, pal, you been in an accident?

Give me a shot of scotch, will ya?

Are you sure you're all right?

Hey, Jerry, give me a clean towel, okay?

You look awful. What happened?

-He called it-- Accident. -Anybody else hurt?

Yeah. Someone else was hurt.

It was my--

This little kid was so scared.

I mean, I missed him by-- by that.

And he just took off and never looked back.

If my wife lives,

the doctor said she'll never walk again.

And I did it to her.

No, you can't think that.

Who's that with Becky Anderson?

What'll it be, Mr. Detweiler?

She's a pip, isn't she?

Her old man would be climbin' the walls if--

Look, the guy was in an automobile accident.

His wife was almost killed.

Now, can I get you somethin'?

Yeah, a beer.

You know, I used to race sports cars.

And Stephanie used to come watch me.

I should've been able to handle that spin-out.

Now, you've got to stop blamin' yourself.

No, an automobile's a dangerous thing.

You know, I always buckled up.

She never did.

Your wife would be the last person

to blame you for what happened.

Thanks.

Oh, my gosh. Look at the time.

-I've got to go. -Oh.

Can I drive you back to the hospital?

Oh, no, no. That's the last thing I--

I can't face my wife until the morning.

Could a friendly neighborhood stranger

offer to make you a cup of coffee?

No, thanks.

Well, as a matter of fact, I'd be very grateful.

-Good night, Becky. -Good night.

Thanks.

Ah, well, ain't that somethin'?

What's that, Mr. Detweiler?

Well, if I were to give it a name,

I'd call it the sympathy jump in the making.

I didn't see nothin'.

Open me one more, Jerry, will ya?

I'll be right back.

[phone ringing]

Yeah?

Yeah, Willie? Johnny Detweiler.

Cliff still stayin' with you?

Yeah.

Detweiler.

[sighs] Hello, creep, what's new?

What are you talkin' about?

Real good lookin', got-rocks type.

She's takin' him home now.

What'd he call for?

Becky's picked up some guy.

What?

Trial separation, she says.

I'm gonna kill that broad!

[gavel pounding]

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

you have heard the evidence.

And the time has come for you to deliberate on your verdict.

It is your sworn duty to determine if the defendant,

Mark Lee Reynolds,

is guilty, as the prosecution charges,

of criminal homicide,

or, as the defense contends, innocent,

in that he killed Clifford Anderson

in self-defense.

Now, your responsibility is to so determine,

based solely on the evidence and testimony presented.

And when you are in accordance, madam foreman,

you shall deliver your verdict to the court.

Bailiff, you'll escort the jury

to the jury room for deliberation.

Court is recessed till the verdict's been reached.

That homicide, Sharon,

she's as full of holes as a wheel of Swiss cheese.

-Open and shut. -Could be out of here by 4.30 pm.

I thought a murder trial would take weeks.

As long as the county's paying, let's order lunch.

Won't have time to eat it.

Mr. Bentley, please, may I call you Thornton?

You can call me Margo.

-I'm a widow. -Ally Collins, single sex.

-Can we get some coffee? -It's over here.

Excuse me. Excuse me, everyone. Please, we do have a foreperson.

Oh, thank you, Jackie.

I have to warn you that I have never been

a jury foreperson before.

I'm afraid this case ain't gonna let you be one for long,

-Mrs. Fletcher. -Well,

however long it takes.

And I hope that you will help me to make the job as easy as possible.

Madam foreman, if I may.

I think that we are all pretty much of the same mind.

So the job really doesn't call for very much more than our vote.

Well, don't you think we should examine the evidence first?

The evidence says he's innocent of homicide.

He's guilty of one thing: picking the wrong time

at the wrong place to go to bed with another man's wife.

You ride right over that fact now.

He was in bed with another man's wife

and he killed him when he walked in on them.

In self defense!

Oh yes. About that...

there's one or two points there that I don't quite understand.

-I'm not quite clear-- -Can I please make a point?

This case is nothing but a great big sales pitch

by a politically ambitious district attorney.

As I tell them on my radio show,

it's the product that counts, not the package.

Well, a product or a package, I'm not buying either one.

The point is, that this case should never have come to trial.

Then let's vote. At least we'll know how close we are to a verdict.

Yes, I think that might be a very helpful idea.

Frank, how should we go about...

It's very simple. I think all we do is write down our verdict,

I'll collect 'em, and you can count 'em.

Very well. Shall we, uh...?

Here we are.

Nine to two for acquittal and one undecided.

It seems we're not too far from an agreement.

Why do I get the feeling

that we're going to be here for a while?

Maybe it won't seem so long once we get started.

Started? Start where?

Well, we could begin with Mark Reynolds's testimony.

I'd say that's a very good place to start.

Oh, fine! Which part of his testimony?

Well, how about where his attorney asked him--

Mark, what did you feel when Dr. Webster told you,

if your wife lived, she'd be paralyzed?

I felt, uhm... guilty.

And I felt... lost. Empty...

What did you intend when you ran out of the hospital?

I don't know.

I know I wanted to die.

But you went to a bar.

Well, I ended up in a bar.

Will you tell the court why you went there?

To drink. To get drunk.

And to drown out...

reality.

My golly, in my day, I did a lot of that.

But for different reasons.

I don't think anybody could call that unusual.

Under those circumstances, you're probably right.

But remember, the district attorney's question

in cross-examination?

Why that bar, Mr. Reynolds?

Between the hospital and the Last Resort,

there are six places where you could have

drowned your guilt. Why did you go to that one?

-I-I don't know. I just-- -Was it because Becky Anderson

was waiting there for you?

-No. -Waiting for you to play

the little game of accidental meeting?

-No. -Knowing that you're

leaving together would lure her husband to her apartment

so you could murder him.

That's badgering, your honor.

My client has answered the question twice.

No further questions at this time.

As far as I'm concerned,

those questions did not have to be asked.

Except, that so happens to be his case.

Exactly, and it's no case.

Do you mind if I say something?

-Miss Conniver? -It's just that--

Well, when Mark Reynolds was talking, I--

I never got the feeling he was trying to impress us.

He was just telling us the simple truth.

Is this your first time on jury duty, Ms. Conniver?

Look, I served on six juries, bud.

This happens to be my second murder trial.

What about you?

I agree with Ms. Conniver.

If anything, I thought that Mark Reynolds' testimony

was very straight-forward.

Because he had nothing to hide.

He certainly didn't hedge around about the way he met Becky Anderson.

Will you tell the jury, Mark,

how long you were in the Last Resort?

Uh, I don't honestly know.

Uh, probably about two hours.

And it was there that you met Becky Anderson?

-That's right. -For the first time?

Yes.

Did you have much to drink, Mark?

I guess I did.

You talked for almost two hours.

And then?

Then, uh, she drove us to her apartment.

We talked for a while.

She made some coffee.

And then--

Did you know Becky Anderson was married?

No. I've since found out

that she was planning to get divorced.

In fact, was separated from her husband

for several months?

Yes.

Go on, please.

What happened next?

[inhales, exhales]

Well, all of a sudden,

there was a noise in the apartment. Some shouting.

It was Clifford Anderson.

The next thing I knew was, he was--

he was in the bedroom.

He had a gun.

He-- he went after her.

And then he came after me.

The gun went off,

and I found myself with a--

with a fireplace poker in my hand.

And I hit him... hard.

What did you do when you realized he was dead?

Becky called the police.

And, uh, I was taken to the station.

And you called a lawyer.

You were allowed a call.

No. I-I-I-- I called the hospital...

to ask about my wife.

And, uh, they told me...

that Stephanie had died without regaining consciousness.

I don't know what more you need, Thornton.

The husband attacked him! He defended himself!

-I don't believe a word of it. -Well, I do.

You people are crazy! He's lying!

What makes you think so, Mr. Bentley?

I know he is! I know it here!

That's a great way to reach a verdict.

Look, miss, I know that man is guilty as sin,

and there isn't anybody here gonna change that.

It don't take much to see

who the bleeding hearts are in this room,

but I don't much care.

We can sit here till Christmastime

if that's what you want.

That man is guilty!

[jurors arguing, indistinct]

Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Gentlemen!

Please. Please.

Mr. Callahan, Mr. Lord, won't you please sit down?

Well, what is the point, Mrs. Fletcher?

This jury has just been hung

by this gentleman with the open mind.

More like an open cavity, if you ask me.

Oh, please!

Mr. Bentley is entitled to hold any opinion that he wishes.

Now, maybe we should dig deeper into the testimony.

Oh, come on, Mrs. Fletcher.

Now, there was another witness

who saw what happened early that morning,

and that was Becky Anderson.

You say your husband

had no right to come to your house?

No, he didn't. We were separated.

I had a restraining order.

Your pending divorce, what are the grounds?

Objection.

Question has no bearing on the case at hand.

Well, it does if it indicates the character of the witness.

Overruled. The witness will answer.

Irreconcilable differences.

And your husband countersued,

accusing you of infidelity.

He had no grounds.

Mrs. Anderson,

could you give me a-- a rough estimate

of the number of men you've taken home

from various bars around town?

Your honor, I object!

Mr. Casselli, you know better than that.

My apologies, your honor.

Mrs. Anderson,

how many times had you slept with the defendant?

Once. I told you that.

And did you know Mark Reynolds before that night?

No!

You never saw him

before the night your husband was murdered?

No.

I, for one, really resented

the district attorney's line of questioning.

She's as big a liar as he is, Reynolds.

And I'll tell you something else, Callahan.

Mr. Moneybags is not what he seems.

-Moneybags? -Yeah.

Rich and got it all!

Used to havin' everything his own way.

Hey! Hey! Hey! He isn't rich.

-His wife had the money. -He's got it now.

Mr. Bentley, Mark Reynolds is on trial,

not his lifestyle.

Oh, I take it, Mrs. Fletcher,

you were one of the two for conviction.

If she wasn't, you think we'd be

sitting here reexaminin' the evidence?

Well, actually, Mr. Corbin, I'm undecided.

Oh! You're the undecided one.

What are you gonna try to do, Mrs. Fletcher,

turn this into one of your convoluted whodunits?

Look, I am afraid, Frank,

that this case is not as simple as it seems.

Lady, this is a very simple case

of a one-night stand

being marred by a tragic coincidence.

Interesting that you should say "coincidence."

And every whodunit's got to have a few, right?

And there's one that I have a very hard time forgetting.

A couple of things have been puzzling me also.

Oh, great! Another country heard from.

Well, excuse me,

but I was bothered by what Fenton Harris said.

Yes, Jackie, so was I.

My motel is called the Bide-a-Wee.

Always hated that name. My wife picked it.

Used to call her Lola.

-She always got what she wanted. [spectators laugh]

Will you tell the court where it's located?

About 15 miles north of town, out on route 37.

Mr. Harris, do you recognize anyone in the courtroom?

In my business, it's good practice

never to recognize the customers.

[laughs] That's a little joke.

Mr. Harris, please.

You're askin' if he ever came to my motel.

He did. Four, five, six times maybe.

[spectators murmuring]

Let the record show that the witness

identified Mark Reynolds, the defendant.

Will you tell the court if you recognize anyone else?

You mean, do I recognize her?

Ms. Anderson there?

Like I told you before,

I think I seen her once with Mr. Reynolds.

[spectators murmuring] -Didn't come in the office.

Stayed outside in the car.

[pounds gavel] Order in the court.

Order in the court!

When was this, Mr. Harris, approximately?

About... three months ago. Yeah.

Making it six weeks prior to the time

that Mark Reynolds and Becky Anderson

claim they met for the first time.

I told you he was a liar!

He said he thought he saw her.

He wasn't sure.

How could he be sure? He's half-blind.

Mrs. Fletcher--

Well, if there's a chance that he recognized her,

I think that we seriously have to

reexamine the notion that this was merely a one-night stand.

One moment, please!

On cross-examination,

Reynolds's lawyer got him to admit he wasn't sure.

Right.

Yeah, but suppose he was right

and we choose to ignore it.

Suppose this and suppose that.

Now, you got to stop this, Mrs. Fletcher.

You can't turn this into one of your

make-believe murder mysteries.

Yes. All right, I agree.

But even if the woman in the car wasn't Becky,

doesn't Mr. Harris's testimony say something

about Mark Reynolds's character and his marriage?

Yeah, makes you wonder just how far

you really can trust him.

Mrs. MacKay, you likely have nothing to do all day

but sit home and listen to soap operas.

And just what is that supposed to mean?

It means that I have a business to run.

And I can't afford to waste any more time away from my shop.

Well, that's just too bad about you, lady.

There are a few more of us with businesses to run.

Short of turning this into a hung jury,

you're gonna have to stick it out like we are.

Look, I'm sure that none of us want a hung jury, Mr. Bentley.

Look, look. About Reynolds' fooling around--

I can understand that.

My first wife had all the money.

So I know what it feels like, believe me.

You just wanna prove something, if only to yourself.

Well, that's interesting.

I-- I hadn't thought of it that way.

Well, he's got the money now-- enough to hire

a fancy Manhattan lawyer with his $600 suits.

Oh, will you get off that.

His lawyer is not on trial.

Yeah. Slick guy like that.

Wonder why he didn't hire somebody local.

We keep getting away from the issue.

We sure do, folks.

This is a man's life we're deciding.

Yes, that's right.

And most of us here

are of a mind to let him keep it.

It's Mrs. Fletcher and her minions

who are so anxious to see him hang.

Good heavens. Is that what you think?

Really, all I'm trying to do is to examine both sides.

And examine and examine and examine.

Well, I for one cannot find any fault with that.

Oh, right on cue, honey.

We know what Mr. Reynolds's lawyer

wants us to believe. Self-defense.

But you'll remember that the district attorney

painted a very different picture in his opening statement.

The prosecution will prove beyond a reasonable doubt

that Mark Reynolds and Becky Anderson were lovers.

And that they conspired to kill Clifford Anderson.

If it was conspiracy,

then why isn't Becky Anderson on trial?

Money, my friend.

Her lawyer fixed it so she'd get tried separately.

Well, when we convict him,

the next jury will do the same to her.

The district attorney said reasonable doubt.

Well, I've got it.

That's why I'm voting for acquittal.

-So am I. -And me.

Yes, but what if Fenton Harris did see Becky?

What if Mark and Becky weren't strangers?

Gracious, I thought we'd been all through that.

-We did, miss Webster. -Oh, for goodness' sake.

Why can't you people just listen for a minute?

I mean, after all, this woman has a brilliant criminal mind.

[laughs] -That's not what I meant.

Well, you know,

-maybe it's my "criminal mind"... [chuckles]

...that sees this as a very complicated puzzle.

And if so, please, bear with me.

But if Mr. Harris saw them at his motel,

what light does that shed on the prosecution's case?

And what about the bartender at the Last Resort?

And as I remember it, he was very certain

that he had never seen Mark Reynolds before.

How about Becky Anderson?

Had you ever seen her before?

Oh, sure. She comes in a lot.

-With her husband? -Yeah.

Before they broke up. And afterwards, by herself.

You'd call her a regular?

Regular enough.

Mr. Blevins,

did Becky Anderson ever pick up a man in the bar?

Not that I ever saw.

But she did pick up Mark Reynolds?

Well, I wouldn't exactly--

They did meet there.

And they left together.

Is that correct?

Yeah.

On the surface,

it appears that two strangers meet in a bar

and become fast friends.

But if you believe Fenton Harris,

the motel owner, you have to believe

that Mark and Becky already knew one another.

And if that's true,

why this complicated charade in the bar?

They wouldn't because they didn't.

I know why!

They wanted to be seen.

Yes. That's what I keep thinking.

Oh, please!

Remember when the barman

said that Cliff Anderson still came in.

And even if he didn't come in that night,

they could expect some other friends to come around.

Somebody like Detweiler.

Hey, I wouldn't call Cliff a buddy,

but bein' a married man myself,

I'd want to know if my old lady was cattin' around.

So I figured he would too.

So if the district attorney's theory is correct,

that phone call triggered their plan

to kill Becky's husband.

Well, after that creep called, Cliff was off like a shot.

Had you known the deceased long?

Oh, yeah. We fished together, oh, five or six years.

He was livin' with me for eight months.

Would you say he had a temper?

Temper? [laughs]

Does week-old fish bait stink?

[spectators laughs]

Well, the last thing he did say was that...

he was gonna kill her.

[spectators murmuring]

One final question:

when Clifford Anderson left your apartment,

was he armed?

Armed? Are you kiddin'?

Answer the question, Mr. Patecki.

No.

He was not armed.

Okay?

Puzzle piece number one:

where did Cliff Anderson get the gun?

Now, that's an important question

because a great deal of the prosecution's case

relies on the answer.

I think the general assumption was

that he had picked it up on his way to his wife's house.

It was midnight when he got the call.

Where would he have gotten it?

Remember, the ballistics expert

said the gun had no registration.

A single shot was fired.

And he said that he had made a nitrate test

on the hands of both Mark Reynolds

and Cliff Anderson.

There were powder traces on the hands of both,

indicating that both held the gun when it discharged.

A matching slug was removed from the living room wall.

The only fingerprints on that gun

were those of Cliff Anderson and Mark Reynolds.

Proving a struggle. Proving self-defense.

-Proving that... -Oh, come on!

This whole thing was planned

to lure this poor man to his death.

And proving what I said about Reynolds all along.

You people must be from some other planet.

Will you listen to yourselves?

A guy has a car accident.

His wife is fatally injured,

so he leaves her in a hospital to go meet a dame

because he and this dame have some idea

about killing her husband

by maybe luring him to her house?

I mean, please!

You got to have rocks in your heads!

What'd you say to me, buddy?

You're ready to stay here all year?

Well, so am I, pal!

And as for you, Mrs. Fletcher,

you've let this whole thing get out of hand.

I think it's about time for you to step aside

and let somebody else run these proceedings,

somebody who has a vague idea what they're doing.

Oh, sit down. You talk too much.

Mrs. Fletcher's doing quite nicely, thank you.

I certainly don't want the job.

Mr. Lord, I'm perfectly willing

to step aside if that's what--

That won't be necessary, Mrs. Fletcher.

-Whoa, whoa, whoa. -Frank, sit down.

Hey! It's perfectly okay. I got lots of time.

Well,

let's go back to another part of the puzzle

that doesn't quite fit--

Becky Anderson's neighbor.

Oh, yeah! The wimp who came home...

to find the husband's car blocking the driveway.

I had to leave my car on the street.

Did you go say anything to him?

With a temper like he had? Mm-mm.

Listen, if I was Mr. Reynolds over there,

and I saw Cliff Anderson

come bustin' through the door at me,

I'd have grabbed for that poker.

Better an ax or a gun, if one was handy.

[spectators murmuring]

I'm here to tell ya it's a good thing

that young fella used that poker.

If he hadn't, a couple of hours later,

when I was lookin' through the window,

it would've been his body

I'd have seen the ambulance takin' away,

not Cliff Anderson's.

It still doesn't prove conspiracy.

It does prove that if Mark and Becky

were looking for a volatile response,

all they had to do was wait for Clifford Anderson...

...to show up.

And show up he did.

But they were not in bed.

They had not been making love.

They had been planning his murder.

They heard him drive up in front.

They heard him barge into the house.

And when he stormed towards the bedroom,

they were waiting.

He didn't have a gun.

Mark Reynolds had the gun.

An unregistered gun.

He needed it...

as evidence for his self-defense.

And when the murder was done,

when the stage was set,

then they called the police.

Speculation? No.

Ladies and gentlemen,

it is fact.

I look at these two people, I see...

pleasant, all-American attractiveness.

I'd like to believe the story they told,

but I can't.

Perhaps if they'd agreed to a lie detector examination--

Your honor, objection!

Sustained.

Mr. Casselli, you know better than that.

Yes. I do, your honor,

and I beg the court's forgiveness.

That was a pretty cheap trick.

Even I know you can't talk about a lie detector in a courtroom.

But he did. And we heard him.

If they had nothing to hide, why didn't they take the test?

You know, for once, Bentley, I think you do have a point.

Mrs. Fletcher, maybe you've been right all along.

Well, I haven't been saying that I'm right, Mr. Callahan.

I'm just trying to find the proper pieces

to fit into the proper places.

Perhaps we were a little hasty presuming Reynolds was innocent.

Maybe Cliff Anderson didn't have the gun.

Oh, no.

If there's one thing I am ready to accept,

it's that he brought that gun into the house with him.

If he had the gun with him--

Now, wait a minute.

You talk half this room out of believing

it was self-defense, and then you tell us--

I'm not telling you anything, miss Collins.

But I would like you to remember

the testimony of that traffic officer.

Oh, sure. I remember him.

He arrested Anderson a year ago on drunken driving.

He found a gun in the glove compartment!

And I seem to remember he confiscated it.

Yes, but doesn't it seem logical

that a man like that might buy another one?

Mrs. Fletcher, you're-- you're bringing us

right back where we started from.

Not really.

What do you mean not really?

If Anderson brought the gun,

then Reynolds killing him was self-defense,

which it was not.

I'm sorry, Mr. Bentley, but it may have been.

Oh, really, Mrs. Fletcher.

That's what we've been contending

since we walked in here.

What a joyous waste of time this has been.

Really, miss Collins!

If you didn't want to serve, what are you doing here?

I couldn't dream up

another excuse they'd believe, okay?

Oh, please!

Look, I posed the question about the gun

because we have all been overlooking something,

and me included, I'm afraid.

Well, hallelujah.

It bears on the struggle for the gun.

And what would that be?

The fact that Mark Reynolds

had injured his shoulder in the automobile accident.

Remember the testimony of the paramedics

who took Mark and his wife to the hospital?

He was in a lot of pain.

He'd broken his left collarbone,

but he didn't want us to touch him.

Why was that?

He didn't want us to take the time.

He wanted us to get his wife to the hospital

as fast as we could.

Somebody told me later

they'd been married less than a year.

He was really broken up.

His wife had come to for a moment.

"Why?" she says.

He'd swerved to keep from hitting

some kid on a bike

and has to watch her lie there dying.

The last thing he was thinking about was himself.

When Dr. Webster was called to the stand to testify,

he said the same thing.

Mrs. Fletcher, will you please get to the point?

Well, my point is that neither the paramedic nor Dr. Webster

treated Mark Reynolds's shoulder.

Are you implying he wasn't hurt?

Oh, no. No, not at all.

Mr. Reynolds was obviously in pain.

But his only concern was for his wife.

The idea that she might never walk

sent him into a frenzy.

I wish he'd stayed with her.

But a little after 1:00, she suddenly went sour.

The heart monitor alerted the nurses,

but by the time they could get to her room,

she was gone.

If Mr. Reynolds had been with her,

well, perhaps they might have reached her faster.

But who knows?

Okay, so would you please tell us

what does the broken collarbone

have to do with whether or not he had the gun?

Would you stand up, Mr. Lord?

May I borrow your cane just for a moment, please?

Mr. Lord.

Good. You're right-handed too.

What do you mean "too"?

Well, Mark Reynolds's

right-hand fingerprints were on the poker.

His injury made his left arm practically useless.

It would have been almost impossible

for him to aim the gun,

let alone struggle over it with Clifford Anderson.

Well, maybe Becky had the gun.

Yes, but the traces of gunpowder were on his left hand.

His and Cliff's.

Good point.

But if he couldn't hold a gun,

much less struggle for one,

then how did the powder traces get there?

Well, that's a question I can't answer.

Now, there are a couple of other things that bother me.

Well, with what you just came up with,

I'm willing to listen.

You may be willing to listen to it.

I think I've had it.

Well, why don't you just keep an open mind?

Listen, my friend.

There's only so much testimony, and we've gone over it all.

No, the stuff about the left arm,

the powder traces--

That makes it all a different story for me.

I say we stick to our original verdict.

I'm voting for self-defense.

Sorry. I can't go along anymore.

Mrs. Fletcher's stopped me cold on self-defense.

But still, murder?

Broken collarbones, powder traces, whatever.

Anderson is dead. Reynolds killed him.

I'm still calling it that.

Hey, I've heard nothin' that changes my mind.

Maybe that's because you people

haven't been listening very hard.

Mrs. Fletcher has made a lot of sense so far.

Why can't we just keep talking and listening, huh?

I mean, we're 12 reasonably intelligent people here.

We ought to be able to sort this thing out.

Damn it, that's what we're here for, isn't it?

Well, she is right. Why don't we just keep at it?

Okay, Mrs. Fletcher, you've got the floor.

Oh, dear.

I wish I could be a little bit more sure

about what I'm doing with it.

Now-- Now, look, I have three major problems,

things that make no sense the way they were presented.

For one thing, I believe Mr. Harris.

-The motel owner? -Yes.

I really do think that Mark and Becky knew each other

before the night her husband was killed.

Now we're getting somewhere.

But, Mr. Lord,

you also made a very persuasive argument.

I mean, it seems ludicrous that these two people,

with Mark's wife lying critically ill

in a hospital bed,

would choose this night

to lure Becky's husband to his death.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

No, no, no.

If it wasn't premeditated, then it had to be self-defense.

There's nothing else.

But there is something else, miss Collins.

A third possibility that none of us have yet considered.

[all arguing]

Mrs. Fletcher, what other possibility?

What are you talking about?

I'm afraid this is all beyond me.

Mrs. Fletcher, if this is another one

of your trips to fantasyland--

Frank, will you just sit there and shut up and listen?

Let's hear it, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, what we have to do

is to take a look at two particular statements,

contradictory statements,

starting with Mark Reynolds's description

of what happened when Becky's husband

burst through that bedroom door.

We've gone over that.

And I hope for the last time.

Now, he said that there were words exchanged,

and suddenly they were struggling with a gun.

Mark picked up the poker. The gun went off.

And Mark struck Anderson with the poker.

Then the police were called.

Now, all that couldn't have taken

more than five-- well, ten minutes at the most.

No argument. Go on.

Then what about Arthur Jasper?

-The next-door neighbor. -Exactly.

The next-door neighbor whose driveway was blocked.

Now how did he put it?

"If Mark Reynolds hadn't hit Cliff with the poker,

a couple of hours later when I looked out the window,

it would have been his body

being taken out in that ambulance

instead of Cliff Anderson's."

-He did say that! -Mm-hmm.

"A couple of hours later."

If Mark Reynolds had been telling the truth,

the police and the ambulance would have been there--

-Almost immediately. -Yes.

Then they lied. Why?

And what was Cliff Anderson

doing in her apartment all that time?

And the way Reynolds told it,

they called the police

less than five minutes after he got there.

Obviously, they didn't.

You were right, Mr. Narramore. They lied.

Leaving us, I'm afraid,

with only one inescapable conclusion.

And only one possible verdict.

[murmuring, gavel pounding]

The defendant will rise.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

have you reached a verdict?

We have, your honor.

How do you find?

We find the defendant not guilty.

[spectators murmuring]

The defendant is released.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

thank you for your efforts.

Court is adjourned.

[gavel bangs]

[murmuring]

-Mr. Casselli. -Mrs. Fletcher.

I thought I had a pretty good case.

I guess I can save myself the effort

of going after Mrs. Anderson.

Oh, my, no.

By all means, I think you should,

now more than ever.

Could we meet in your office in, say, 30 minutes?

Sure, I suppose so, but--

You might also ask Becky Anderson

to be there with her attorney.

Look, before I put myself in an awkward position,

do you mind if I ask why?

Oh, not at all.

The last thing in the world I want to do

is to put you in an awkward position.

Tom, I promised Martha I'd be home for supper at 6:00.

Mrs. Fletcher said she'd--

Ah.

Oh. So sorry to keep you waiting.

I got held up.

Not at all, Mrs. Fletcher. No problem.

Oscar, do you know Jessica Fletcher?

Oscar Ramsey.

I know the lady by reputation.

How do you do, Mr. Ramsey?

Ma'am.

Have you met Becky Anderson?

Well, we haven't been introduced.

-Hello. -Mrs. Fletcher.

Got to say, you people in the jury

-didn't surprise me any. -That so?

I did figure you'd come in sooner with the verdict.

Well, we spent some time--

Finding as you did, makes this meetin' somewhat academic.

However, Tom said you'd explain.

Well, Mr. Ramsey, it's really simple.

You see, it's our opinion, that is, the jury's,

that Becky Anderson killed her husband.

That's not true!

What the hell is this?

Hear her out, Oscar.

It gets very interesting.

It's a bunch of damn hogwash!

The same evidence that got the first verdict

is gonna clear my client.

Well, we didn't exactly find on that evidence.

You didn't what?

Well, of course it was the evidence

and how we saw it after some pushing and poking.

One thing we couldn't understand is

what happened when your husband arrived at your apartment.

Mark explained that.

Well, not to our satisfaction, I'm afraid.

In fact, we feel that he was lying.

No.

I'm not gonna allow this.

We are leavin'.

You'll save us both a lot of time and work

if you stay and listen, Oscar.

Mark's story about struggling for the gun

and wielding the fireplace poker--

Now, it really is so much nonsense, considering

that his collarbone injury from the accident.

I was there. I saw it.

Yes, you were there.

But you didn't see anything.

You're the one who struck the fatal blow.

While Mark stood by and watched?

No, we don't believe that he was there when it happened.

Really?

And just where was he, Mrs. Fletcher?

He was at the hospital, murdering his wife.

Play Hail Columbia and salute the flag!

Will you listen to that! [laughs]

That is what happened, isn't it, Becky?

No.

Isn't that why you refused to take the lie detector test,

because you were afraid if you were asked

if Mark had killed your husband in self-defense

and you answered yes,

the machine would show that you were lying?

No!

Not a shred of this will fly.

You try usin' this in court,

and I'll set your run for state office back ten years.

Oscar, we are not talking politics here.

We are talking cold-blooded murder.

Mark Reynolds had been to the bide-a-wee motel

at least six times.

How many others might he have gone to?

And on the night of his wife's dying,

he picked up another woman in a tavern.

It was an accidental encounter.

A woman he'd been seen with six weeks earlier.

That testimony was refuted by cross-examination.

Not refuted, merely challenged.

Mrs. Fletcher,

maybe you can make somethin' like this

work in one of your novels,

but not in a court of law.

That was the first time I saw him.

You heard the bartender.

And the bartender heard

what you and Mark wanted him to hear.

The reason for the accidental meeting was

to give Mark an alibi from a so-called stranger.

His motive is clear.

He loved Becky.

His wife of less than a year had all the money.

He wanted both.

Next thing you'll say is the car accident

that damn near killed him and his wife was deliberate.

Well, I believe that it was.

A former professional race car driver?

He staged it so that his wife would be killed.

He wore a seat belt.

She never did.

He slammed her side of the car

into that utility pole.

It was made-to-order murder.

Remember the paramedic saying she asked "why?"

She was asking why he tried to kill her.

The fact that she didn't die on impact...

and the fact that the doctor said

she could regain consciousness and expose him

meant he had to quickly improvise a foolproof alibi.

He called Becky.

Who else could he trust?

And what better alibi than to be in bed with another woman?

She's wrong.

Mr. Ramsey, you have to believe me.

It would have worked

except for two unforeseen events.

First, was your being remembered by the motel man.

The other was your husband's learning

of your being in that tavern.

When he did, when he came home

to your house, he found you alone.

Now, you couldn't let anyone know Mark wasn't with you,

so you had to kill him.

That's not how it happened!

He was furious! He had a gun--

Don't say any more!

I'm not going to face this alone.

Miss Anderson, don't incriminate yourself.

If she wants to cooperate, Oscar,

we could cut a deal...

if the husband's death really was self-defense.

Even if Mrs. Fletcher's right...

and my client and Reynolds

were mixed up in his wife's murder,

she could plead second degree in the wife's death.

I want Mark Reynolds.

Becky?

All right.

Tell us the entire story.

I was alone.

Mark had been gone a half hour, 40 minutes

by the time Cliff came.

He was in a rage.

He said all sorts of--

He was horrible. Ugly.

He had a gun.

He wouldn't believe I was alone.

And when he found out I was, he demanded to know...

who the man was and where he was.

He swore he'd kill him...

and me. I--

The poker was in my hand.

And I hit him.

He fell.

It was a-- a half hour maybe,

maybe more when-- when Mark came back.

He said it was made-to-order.

A foolproof alibi.

He'd confess to killing Cliff in self-defense and--

and that way no one would have the slightest hint

that he'd killed his wife in cold blood.

And to make certain that it looked like self-defense,

he saw to it that his fingerprints

were on the poker...

and that the powder traces were on his left hand.

So with the bullet fired into the wall,

all that was left was for you to call the police.

He said it was easy

to sneak into his wife's hospital room.

A pillow over her face--

As weak as she was, she died almost instantly.

The deal holds, Oscar,

but I'll need her on the witness stand.

She'll be there.

-Ah, Mrs. Fletcher. -Oh, Mr. Reynolds.

How can I thank you for your verdict?

There's no need.

The satisfaction is knowing

that the right thing has been done.

Nevertheless, I just want you to know

I'll always remember you.

Oh, yes.

I'm quite sure you will.

[all murmuring]