All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S02E13.Trial.by.Error.WEBRip.x264-ION10

[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]