All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S03E11.Night.of.the.Headless.Horseman.WEBRip.x264-ION10

I got a headless body and a bloody saber.

And the wrong suspect.

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

And a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Beecher.

I want Nate Findley out of this school.

Stay away from Edwin's daughter.

Satisfy your needs elsewhere.

Is that an order or an offer?

Oh, dear, it's Daddy. You have to go.

No, no, I won't. I won't.

Maybe you don't hear so good.

You got questions, missus,
you ask somebody else.

[cheerful orchestral music]

Her eyes glistened with the promise

of a thousand yesterdays
she had never known,

and then she came to me

and unleashed the promised passions

of a thousand tomorrows yet to come.

Oh, Dorian.

You wrote that for me?

For you alone, Sarah.

There is you now, Dorian, only you.

Really? What about Nate Findley?

He's a bore and a bully,

and I will have nothing further
to do with him.

How could you ask?

Well, he is rather possessive and jealous.

Sarah?

Oh, dear, it's daddy. You have to go.

No, no, I won't. I won't.

I won't hide from him anymore.

I want to tell him about us.

Oh, darling, you must leave that to me.

Daddy is very mulish.

But when he finds out what kind
of person you really are,

what sort of family you come--

Oh, yes, family.

You know how Daddy is about ancestry.

But when your mother arrives--

She is still coming, isn't she?

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

Tomorrow, on the morning train.

Sarah?

[bird calling]

[hoof beats approaching]

[horse whinnies]

Damn you, Nate Findley!

[horn honking]

Jessica!

Oh, I was terrified you wouldn't be here.

Oh, Dorian, you must be joking.

I promised I'd be here,
and here I am.

Well, people have a way
of letting me down.

Well, don't include me in that group.

My goodness, look at you.
You've lost a lot of weight.

Cafeteria food.

Thousands for bridles and bits

but not one penny for a decent steak.

Well, you certainly picked
a very exclusive school.

The Wenton Academy.

Why didn't you tell me?

I had no idea that you were
working for a living.

Well, it happened all of a sudden.

The poetry teacher died over the summer.

A beautiful young thing, I understand,

the daughter of our stable master.

She drowned in the Cloverton river.

Oh, how awful. Was it a swimming accident?

Driving.

And there's talk she wasn't
the only one in the car.

There may have been a man
behind the wheel.

Oh, dear.

So, anyway, that's how I got the job.

Very grim.

Oh, speaking of grim, tell me about

this--this desperate situation
that you're in.

Desperate? Did I say that?

You certainly did.

It's-it's right here in the telegram.

Oh, well, uh, probably what I--what I...

Good morning. Good morning, all.

Oh, hi, Doc.

Well, I guess I know who this is.

Good morning, ma'am.
Dr. Penn Walker at your service.

The whole town has been
expecting your arrival.

It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Well, that's very nice. Doctor?

Well, actually I'm sort of
the town dentist,

but "Doc" sounds a little more important.

Well, that's all done.

I think, uh--
I think we'd better get going.

Nice to see you again, Doc.

Guess you know
we all like Dorian a whole lot

around these parts.

Well, I'm very fond of him myself.

Well, yes, ma'am, I guess you are.

Uh, I'd get that pin fixed
before you lose it.

It's nice workmanship.
Hand-tooled, isn't it?

But it's coming loose.

Are you interested in jewelry, doctor?

Oh, it's just a hobby.

Well, see ya later, Doc.

Bye, Dorian.

And a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Beecher.

Thank you.

Doc's a great guy.

He and Gretchen were engaged,
the dead poetry teacher.

Dorian--

He was off traveling in Italy
when it happened.

-What a homecoming, huh?
-Oh, yes. Now--

Say, what do you think
of the great old English bike

I borrowed for you, huh?

Oh, it's--It's fine.

The car is borrowed too, I'm afraid.

On my salary, I don't make enough--

Dorian, will you please stop talking
and tell me.

Why did the town dentist
refer to me as Mrs. Beecher?

Did he do that?

Well, for heaven's sake. Really?

Yes, he did, and you know that he did.

Now, can you explain why?

All right. Jessica, I've fallen in love.

[laughs]

Well, that's hardly something new, Dorian.

Oh yes, I know.

But this time it's the real thing.

I know it is. I can feel it.

I can't eat, I can't sleep, I feel dizzy,

short of breath, my heart pounds...

You sure you're getting enough exercise?

Her name is Sarah, Sarah Dupont.

Soft, angelic, a prelude by Liszt,

a painting by Renoir.

She sounds lovely.

Her father, on the other hand,
Edwin Dupont,

is my employer at the academy.

A dirge by Berlioz, a bad dream by Dali.

But how do I fit into all this?

Well, Dupont is something of a fanatic

when it comes to roots,
pedigree, the family tree.

As you know, I am an orphan,

and when Sarah suggested

that I invite my mother for a visit, I--

You didn't.

I did.

But, Dorian!

Oh, I'm sorry, Jessica,

but I just had to have a mother,
at least for one weekend.

I--I couldn't think of anyone else

that I'd feel prouder of than you.

Well, look, I'm very flattered,

but it puts me in a terrible position.

I don't know what--

[horse whinnies, Nate laughs]

That's it, Nate Findley.

Next time! Next time, you get it!

Hello!

Oh, Mrs. Beecher.

I'm so thrilled that you've come
for a visit.

Dorian has told us so much about you.

Uh, yes.

Uh, you must be Sarah.

Well, actually, I'm, uh, really--

Actually, I'm really
very pleased to meet you, Sarah.

Thank you, mother.

[laughs]

Lousy dummkopf horses!

Van Stotter, that makes twice this month.

If you can't keep control of the stable,

I'll find someone who can.

Findley, I want to talk to you.

I've got no time for chitchat, Beecher.

It was you last night at the bridge,
wasn't it?

You've been seein' spooks.

I know the difference
between a ghostly apparition

and a lard-bottomed, dumb-headed lummox

dressed for Halloween.

You're not gonna scare me off!

Get out of my way!

Ho, Gunshot!

Ja , go get 'em, Nate.

Damn kids, gonna make me lose my job.

Charlotte, I want Nate Findley
out of this school!

The man is a bad influence
on the students.

Oh, calm down, Edwin.

Nate's as good as they come in the saddle,

and you know how important
the riding program is

to this school.

He is an uncultivated roughneck

from a long line of grocery clerks.

If you're worried about
your precious daughter,

I'd check out the new English instructor,
Dorian Beecher.

[knocking at door]

Oh, excuse me.

I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Not at all, Dorian. Come in.

And this must be your lovely mother

we've heard so much about.

I'm Charlotte Newcastle,
the school administrator.

-Won't you come in?
-Thank you.

Delighted to meet you. This is--

Edwin Dupont. I own this school.

Mrs. Beecher, aren't you a bit young

to have a son Dorian's age?

Well, actually,

becoming Dorian's mother was one of the...

biggest surprises of my life.

Tell me about Dorian's father,
Mrs. Beecher.

A professional man, I presume?

I'm sorry, ma'am.

I found these boys with
their ears plugged to the door.

And they spooked the horses too.

They got no respect.

Excuse me.

Todd, is this true?
Did you run the horses off?

What about you two? Robert?

Brendan? Have you got anything to say?

Very well.

Mr. Van Stotter,
take the boys to their rooms.

I'll deal with them later.

Yes, missus.

And they wonder why their own parents

didn't want them home
for the holiday weekends.

[thunder rumbling]

You're not going riding, Nate.

It's dark out,
and there's a storm coming up.

You're concerned about me, Charlotte.

That's nice.

I want you to stay away
from Edwin's daughter.

Satisfy your needs elsewhere.

Is that an order or an offer?

I don't have any slack
on this thing, Nate.

Stay away from her,

or I'll have to get
a new riding instructor.

I don't think
you want to do that, Charlotte.

A man gets fired, he fights back.

I don't think Edwin would understand

your attraction to me.

The proper headmistress
and the riding instructor,

very juicy.

Don't threaten me, Nate.

No, my daddy always taught me

that one good threat deserves another.

[hoof beats departing]

[thunder rumbling]

All right, now. Listen to me.

Jessica, please.

You're not gonna spoil everything

by turning honest on me.

That's exactly what I'm going to do.

Dorian, I admire
and respect you as a poet,

but the rest of it. [sighs]

You are a mess.

My gracious, you must be Dorian's mother.

I'm Bobbie.

Oh, Dorian,

she is exactly the way you described her:

elegant as a duchess, soft as a kitten,

with eyes that smile
with a child's laughter.

Dorian, did you say that about me?

Well, yes, I suppose I did.

I'm not sure he remembers, Mrs. Beecher.

He was totally polluted at the time.

Well, can I get you something?

Um, yeah, I'll have a very dry martini.

-Make-make that a double.
-Okay.

Dorian, make that a single, dear.

I don't want you polluted with me.

Could I have a cherry cola
with a lot of ice?

All that sugar?
Mm, that's bad for the teeth.

Bobbie, make sure
to put all this on my bill.

That's Yankee hospitality. No arguments.

Well, wouldn't dream of it.

Doc, won't you join us?
You don't mind, mother?

Don't mind if I do. Thank you.

So what'll you have, Doc? The usual?

-You bet.
-Okay.

-Raining yet, Doc?
-Uh, no, it's threatenin'.

That's a mighty handsome piece of jewelry

you got there, Bobbie.
Where'd you get that?

Nate Findley, Doc.

Guess he figures it'll get him somewhere,
which it won't.

Oh, Dorian, don't start something.

Well, now,

I didn't know poets stayed out
after nightfall,

especially ones that are prone
to be scared by ghosts

on dark and stormy nights.

I, uh--I don't believe

we asked you to join us, Mr. Findley.

This'll be real brief, ma'am.

Stay away from Sarah Dupont, poet.

She's private property.

Sarah is in love with me, Findley.

That's 'cause you've filled her brain

with that poetical drivel of yours.

But let me tell ya,

I know how to make a woman throb
with passion,

and that girl's no exception.

[dishes shattering]

[onlooker]
Come on, Dorian. Give him a punch!

Come on, Dorian.

-Dorian, come on.
-Come on, Dorian.

[men talking]

Dorian?

-Come on.
-Use it, pal. Let's go.

-Come on.
-Come on, Dorian.

Run him through, Dorian.

[men yelling]

Stay where you are.
Stay where you are, Nate.

Give me the sword, Dorian.

-[Jessica] Dorian!
-Give me the sword.

I'll go with him, Mr. Findley.
You stay here.

I think something's broken.

Hey, Bob, pour me a whiskey.

-Dorian?
-Jessica, please.

I-look, I'm much too humiliated
for conversation.

I'll--I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Hello there.

[thunder rumbling]

[car approaching]

Sarah?

Sarah!

Sarah, it's me, Dorian.

Dorian!

Dorian.

Hey, whatcha doin', Dorian?

Out spook huntin'?

Hey, fellas, how about a ride
back to the school, huh?

School?

Dorian, what about your headless horseman?

You know, you gotta show him who's boss.

Now, I hear this fella carries
a big pumpkin in one hand.

So maybe you can help him
carve it up, huh?

[laughter]

[birds calling]

[hoof beats approaching]

[horse whinnies]

[hoof beats receding]

I don't like it, Dorn.

Nate would never leave Gunshot like this.

Ja , he's been like this for a while too.

All the sweat's all dried up.

Dorian, oh, my God. You look dreadful.

A lot better
than Nate Findley's gonna look

when I get through with him.

Good, his horse is here;
he must be around somewhere.

No, we've checked. What happened?

Last night, he and this beast ran me down

doin' his headless horseman routine.

When was this, Mr. Beecher? Where?

[voices over radio]

I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't let you through.

That's all right, Charlie.

-Mornin', ma'am.
-Morning, Sheriff.

Well, you're up and about
early this morning.

Oh, no earlier than usual.

What is it? Is something wrong?

Have you seen your son
this morning, ma'am?

My son? Oh, my son!

Uh, no.

Sheriff, what's going on?

Maybe you could tell me, Miss Newcastle.

Last night, Nate Findley's horse

came back to the stable alone.

Naturally, we're concerned,
and Dorian says

this is the spot where Nathan
tried to run him down.

No, not tried. He succeeded.

I was out cold for hours.

Good Lord.

I'm fine, Jessi--Mother.

Sheriff, do you have any idea
where Nate might be?

Might. You ever seen this
before, Mr. Beecher?

Oh, yes, of course.
It belongs to Nate Findley.

Yeah, I found it in the mud
right over there.

Well, now maybe you'll believe

what I've been trying to tell you

about Nate and that dreadful getup

he's been galloping around in.

Well, last night at the tavern,

you were wavin' that old saber
around kinda threatening-like.

Sheriff, is there something
that we ought to know about?

Well, I didn't take it.

A couple of those
gravel-brained barflies snatched it.

They-they drove by here while
I was walking along last night,

and they tossed it to me
to protect myself from goblins.

Ridiculous.

So you had the sword with you
when Nate tried to run you down?

Sheriff, I'm sorry, but--

Turn down your burners, Mrs. Beecher.

Couple of kids came out here
bass fishin' around daybreak.

They're the ones who phoned in
to the office.

Nate!

I wouldn't do that, ma'am.

It's Nate all right--
or what's left of him.

Someone cut off his head
and carted it away.

[gasps]

You threatened him

with this sword in front of witnesses.

And I found it in the weeds

only a few yards from the victim.

Sheriff, Dorian has already
explained to you

how he came to be in possession
of the saber.

Yeah, and if that's true,
maybe, just maybe,

we're not talkin' premeditation here.

Oh, but for heaven's sakes.

Now, look, if Dorian had killed Nate,

why would he have led Charlotte Newcastle

to the scene of the crime?

Because he's a smart fella.

And why did he cut off Nate's head?

Because that was smart?

Well, uh--

And finally, Sheriff,
perhaps you could tell me

why Nate's boots were on the wrong feet?

-Say, I didn't notice--
-Maybe you should have.

Look, I don't care
if he was wearing bedroom slippers.

I got a headless body and a bloody saber.

And the wrong suspect.

Now, Dorian has sworn
that he did not kill him.

Of course he'd say that.

Well, Dorian doesn't lie.

Well, naturally you'd
say that, bein' his mother.

And I am not his mother.

That so?

[Jessica sighs] I'm a friend.

I, uh--I'm a very good friend.

Well, ma'am, whatever your name is,

it sure is encouraging to hear

that old Dorian here doesn't lie.

[chuckles]

Really warms my heart.

This is simply awful.

It certainly is.

When Dupont finds out
that you're not really my mother,

that'll be the end
of my romance with Sarah.

Oh, Dorian, will you look at me
and pay attention?

You are facing a murder charge.

Murder, 20 years to life, maybe worse.

Oh, Jessica, if I were going
to kill anybody,

I certainly wouldn't decapitate them.

That is really disgusting.

Yes, and I wonder why it was done.

And those boots on the wrong feet.

I mean, there's got to be a good reason.

All right. Now, tell me again.

Exactly what did you see, hear,
or do last evening

from the moment that you left me
at the hotel?

Jessica, I already told you.

I--I walked over to Sarah's house.

Her father almost ran me down.

What? You never told me that.

Didn't I? Are you sure?

Dorian, why would Edwin Dupont want
to run you down?

Well, he didn't, exactly.

Uh, he didn't know I was there.

I'd kind of, uh, jumped back
into the bushes

so he wouldn't see me.

Seems awfully late to be
driving off into the night.

Are you sure that it was
Edwin Dupont behind the wheel?

Almost positive.

-Almost?
-Very positive.

Dorian's wrong.

I was driving the car, not my father.

Mind telling me where you were going?

Going?

I needed some fresh night air

to clear my head, to think.

-And where was your father?
-He wasn't here.

Dorian knocked loudly
on the door several times.

He-he was asleep.

He was very tired.
He'd gone to bed around nine.

You know, Sarah, you're a dreadful liar.

But I suppose
I'm in no position to criticize,

since I am too.

And since this seems to be the time

that we should all start
telling the truth,

I am not really Dorian's mother.

What?

-I'm really--
-J.B. Fletcher.

I just received a telephone call
from Sheriff Rankin.

Mrs. Fletcher, I am not amused
by your deception.

I know, and I'm sorry.

Dorian may not be my son, but--

My daughter and I had nothing to do

with the death of Nate Findley.

As for last night, Dorian is correct.

I'm the one who drove the car.

Father--

Earlier in the evening,
I had found an anonymous note

accusing Charlotte Newcastle
of embezzling school funds.

I waited until Sarah was asleep

before I left to confront Charlotte
at the academy.

And what did she say?

She denied everything, of course,

and I told her I would be
retaining an independent auditor

to go over the books.

We exchanged a few unpleasantries,
and I left.

To go where, may I ask?

Although it is none of your business,

I came directly home.

-Father, there's no need to--
-Sarah, be quiet!

Now, Mrs. Fletcher,
it is my considered opinion

that your friend Dorian Beecher
is a cold-blooded killer.

But in the unlikely event
that you prove otherwise,

give him a message for me.

He is never again to see my daughter,

or there could very likely be
another killing in this town.

We used to ride horses in the summer.

I think we enjoyed brushing them down

as much as we enjoyed riding them.

You know, I really believe
that horses know

when they lose a friend.

What do you think, Todd?

Nate never cared about Gunshot.

Not like you.

I couldn't help but notice you
outside the tavern last night,

feeding an apple to Gunshot.

So what? I do things for the horse.

But I came to school right after that.

And your friends, Robert and Brendan.

They were with you?

Look, I gotta go.

[whinnying]

Oh, we could do with some help from you

about this thing, ol' boy.

You saw it all, didn't you?

[knocking]

[door squeaking]

Hello?

Hello?

[horse whinnies in the distance]

Anyone here?

What are you doing there, missus?

Oh, Mr. Van Stotter.
I was looking for you.

Charlotte Newcastle told me

that you just returned from a trip--

Cloverdale.

Ja , I got back earlier.

Oh, then you must have heard
about poor Mr. Findley.

It was dreadful.

Dreadful, ja .

I wanted to ask you--

If you got questions, missus,
you ask somebody else.

Look, I'm sorry.
I don't mean to be a pest.

But the sheriff is holding Dorian Beecher,

which, of course, is absolutely absurd--

Maybe you don't hear me so good.

Everybody here knows

I don't much like young Mr. Findley,

but why I kill him?

I got no reason.

There are people here with reasons,
you bet.

You ask them.

Ask who, Mr. Van Stotter?

Charlotte Newcastle, perhaps?

[bird cawing]

We've got to tell someone.

No, they'll expel us.

We'll have to go home.

It's all your fault, Todd.

You got us into this. It was your idea.

Yeah? So what?

I'm in charge here, not you.

And nobody's saying a word about anything.

You got that?

-[knocking at door]
-Hello.

Am I interrupting?

Oh, come in, Mrs. Fletcher.

It is Mrs. Fletcher, isn't it?

News travels fast.

I just got off the phone
with Edwin Dupont.

Dorian has good taste in mothers,

even if they are stand-ins.

[laughs] Well, thank you.

I don't suppose any real harm was done.

Except to Edwin's puritan sensibilities.

Well, you must be here about the note,

the one accusing me
of being the biggest thief

-since Robert Vesco.
-Well--

Let's not fence, Mrs. Fletcher.

There is a problem,
but I am not responsible.

Then you had no idea what happened?

No, not until Edwin confronted me.

But someone knew,
or else who sent the note?

Nate Findley?

Are you trying to tie me in
with Nate's death?

I'm just trying to clear
Dorian Beecher's name.

That note, would you mind
if I had a look at it?

Whoever wrote it

went to a lot of trouble
to disguise their handwriting.

The block printing is so childlike,

anyone could have written it.

You mean someone unschooled in English.

I mean, look at that spelling.

One of the students?

Mr. Van Stotter has spent
a great deal of time

in Cloverton, hasn't he?

That's where he buys the horses
and equipment

for the stable.

And where his daughter died mysteriously
this past summer?

What's one got to do with the other?

Maybe nothing.
I'm just exploring all angles.

Dorian, are you all right?

Oh, sure. I'm fine.

Well, try to control your enthusiasm.

I mean, at least the sheriff released you.

That's something, I suppose.

I tried to call Sarah.

Her father got on the phone.

He made these terrible threats against me.

Jessica, the man is a tyrant,
a chauvinistic cretin, a--

Dorian, I just wanted to tell you.

Well, I don't think you killed Nate.

Oh, thank you, Bobbie.

But if you did--I mean,
in self-defense or something...

I could understand it.

He sure was a sight,
all dressed up like that.

He would have scared me half to death.

[Jessica] Just a moment.

Bobbie, you mean
you actually saw Nate Findley

disguised as the headless horseman?

Oh, no, ma'am, not exactly.

But I did see him riding through town
on Gunshot,

his black cloak flying behind him,

that black floppy hat
pulled down over his head.

He was real spooky-looking.

That's how I saw him.

When was that?

Um, it was just before closing time.

I stepped out to get some air.

Maybe 11:30 or so.

Odd.

The sheriff said that Nate
was here until 10:30.

Now, where was he during that hour?

Well, not with me.

You want another one of those?

Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah, please.

And bring a couple more olives.

I didn't get any lunch.

Oh, sure.

Ow! Oh! Oh! Oh!

-Dorian!
-Ah! Oh!

As if things weren't bad enough,
I think I broke a tooth.

Let me look.

Ah!

Ah. Ah!

You're in luck, Dorian. It's not a tooth.

It feels awful.

Yes, I know. Open up.

It's a... you loosened a cap.

But I can re-cement it for you.

Is it gonna hurt?

With all that vodka you've been drinking?

-Doc?
-Hmm?

Last night,
did you notice anything strange

about Nate Findley?

His behavior, the way he was dressed?

Well, his behavior, as you well know,
was abominable.

But, uh, his dress?

Nothing I noticed.

When they found the body,

his boots were on the wrong feet.

That so? Kinda hard to walk that way.

Well, he sure didn't have any trouble

walkin' into the tavern.

Well, maybe he got undressed

and then dressed again, hurriedly.

I hear Nate did that a lot,

usually with an irate husband
in the vicinity.

Or a father.

What? What was that, Jessica?

Oh, nothing. It just slipped out.

[Doc] Open wide for me, Dorian, please.

Sarah, I am warning you.

[Edwin] I am not gonna permit this sort
of insolent behavior!

You won't permit!

Oh, that's wonderful, father.

You won't permit.

I am your father!

And is that supposed to make me proud?

Afraid? What?

I am only thinking of your welfare.

You haven't thought about me in years
except as someone

to cook your meals and clean up after you.

I haven't been a daughter.
I've been a housekeeper.

Well, no more.

And what are you going to do now?

-Marry Dorian Beecher?
-No, father.

Right now I'm gonna walk to the hotel

and spend the night in a soft bed
in a nice quiet room,

and tomorrow I'm gonna order room service

and let someone wait on me for a change.

Sarah.

Sarah... You'll be back!

Sarah!

[horses whinnying]

Thievery, Jessica.

I hate to believe it, but there it is.

Dorn Van Stotter.

I am such a fool.

I should have fired him months ago,

but he was going through
such a terrible time

because of the death of his daughter.

I didn't have the heart to.

And this is how he repays me.

There may be an explanation.

Hmm, maybe.

But Van Stotter's going have
to explain this one

to Sheriff Rankin.

Yes, well, I really
have to be running along.

Get me the sheriff's office, please.

[boards creaking]

I didn't make it up.

I'm telling the truth.

That's a lie!

You just want to seem important.

-That's not true!
-Yes, it is!

[knocking at door]

When I was a little girl,

if you knew the secret knock,
it entitled you to enter.

Well, now, let me see.

It's Robert, Todd, and Brendan.

Is that right?

Now, boys, it's time that we talked.

I mean, if the sheriff had caught you
sneaking around

the way you have been the last few days,

he would probably think

that you had something to do
with Nate Findley's death.

We didn't kill him.

We just wanted to have some fun
with old Dorian.

Robert, shut up.

Oh, I'm sure you didn't want to kill him,

but I smell a prank.

Todd was the one thought up
the headless horseman thing.

We were just lookouts.

Well, you should have seen him jump

when we threw that pumpkin at him.

Dorian is a major-league coward.

And that was the first time?
At the bridge?

That was the only time.

And we didn't cut Nate's head off.

I know who did.

Oh, come on.
You don't have any idea who did.

I saw him bury it.

He buried it in a corner of the stable.

He was carrying a lantern
and something in a gunnysack.

I swear.

Who did you see, Robert?

It was Dorn Van Stotter.

I saw it clear as glass.

It was pretty dark, son.

I know what I saw.

Sheriff?

It's all right, ma'am.

Cash money. And lots of it.

What are you doing there?

What are you doing with my money?

You have no right.

Oh, I have a right, sir.

This warrant says I do.

I didn't want to steal.

I had to. I needed the money.

Then you're admitting
you embezzled school funds?

Ja.

Oh, Dorn, why didn't you come to me?

I did come to you, missus,
and to Mr. Dupont.

You said there is no money,
so I take what I need.

Need for what, Mr. Van Stotter?

For the detective.

Last summer, my little girl,
Gretchen, was killed.

The police say it was accident,
but I know better.

There was a man in the car with her.

I don't know who,
but I know it's somebody.

And when the police don't help,
I hire this detective.

Copies of police reports,
interviews, surveillance.

Not much here.

It still takes money.

And the note to Edwin accusing me?

You sent that?

Why would I send note when I am the thief?

Why indeed? No, Charlotte.

I can't prove this,
but I have a sneaking hunch

that that note was sent by Nate Findley,

perhaps to stir up the water

and to put an end to
Mr. Van Stotter's investigation.

Well, what are you saying?

Van Stotter here killed Findley
because of the note?

Oh, no, Sheriff.

It was someone else
for an entirely different reason.

For the first time,
the pieces are beginning to fit.

-Mrs. Fletcher.
-Oh, Doc.

Got a call from Dorian.
You wanted to see me.

I hope there's nothing wrong

with those pretty teeth of yours.

Oh, no, Doc, they're fine, thank you.

Won't you sit down?

Something wrong?
You seem a little out of sorts.

I wanted to talk to you about Gretchen,

and this isn't going to be easy.

I--I saw her picture in your office.

A lovely-looking girl.

I understand that you were going
to be married.

I don't like to talk about it much.

The accident.

You were touring in Italy
when it happened?

Ma'am, really, I'd rather not.

And while you were gone,
she moved away from Wenton,

went to Cloverton?

She became involved with another man.

Just rumor.

You've been talking to her father?

The other man was Nate Findley,
wasn't it, Doc?

Is that why you brought me here,
Mrs. Fletcher?

To open up old wounds?

No, Doc.

I'm sure that Nate deserved
the punishment that he got

for what he did to your fiancée
but not murder.

Well, I'm sorry.

I'm not gonna sit here and listen to--

Yes, you are, Doc.

There's a photo of Gretchen
in this folder.

She's wearing a very distinctive necklace.

I'd seen that necklace two nights before.

The young waitress had been wearing it.

I remember how interested that you'd been.

That's a handsome piece
of jewelry you got there, Bobbie.

-Where'd you get it?
-Nate Findley, Doc.

When we first met,

you told me that
you made jewelry as a hobby.

It's my guess that
you made this for Gretchen

and then she either gave it to Nate

or he took it.

All right, so I made the necklace.

That doesn't prove I killed Nate.

Dorian's the one who fought with him.

Yes, and as I recall,
he put up a pretty good fight.

In fact, I think he may have
hit Nate hard enough

to jar loose one of his teeth.

I think something's broken.

Hey, Bob, pour me a whiskey.

Sheriff?

Oh, no, ma'am.

You-you're doin' just fine.

Well, a lot of things
didn't make much sense

about Nate's death,

but the biggest puzzle of all
was the missing head.

Why was the head missing?

For effect? Well, hardly.

But suppose there was something
about that head

that would instantly
point a finger at his killer.

For example, fresh dental work.

We're gonna find it sooner or later, Doc.

It'd go a lot better for you
if you tell us now.

I hadn't planned to kill him.

I didn't think I had the guts.

I'd just gotten back to my place

when Nate showed up
with that broken tooth.

He was in a lot of pain,
cussin' out Dorian.

And just like you figured, Mrs. Fletcher,

by then, I knew he was the one.

But I just kept workin' on that tooth,

tryin' to figure out somethin' to do.

And then he saw Gretchen's picture.

He started talking about her.

And he was drunk out of his mind,

just the way he'd been that night

when he drove her car into the river

and then swam off to save his own skin

without trying to help her.

Oh, yes, he told me all about it.

I got dizzy. My head was pounding.

And suddenly I just took a pick
and jabbed it into his neck.

Didn't take long to die.

His horse had been left out back,

and I knew that I had to make it seem

that he'd ridden out of town,

that the killing took place
out in the country.

So I stripped off his outfit,
and I put it on,

and then I rode out of town
makin' a big ruckus,

so as folks would notice.

Then out on the road near the school,

I nearly ran down Dorian.

Poor guy. Scared the heart out of him.

And then it came to me,
Dorian threatenin' Nate,

the headless horseman.

It all seemed so perfect.

Dorian was lyin' there out cold,

so I let the horse go,
and I rushed back to town.

Nate's body was stuffed
into the trunk of my car.

I drove back out

and redressed Nate in the outfit.

I guess that explains how
the boots got on the wrong feet.

Then I took the saber, and...

You know the rest of it.

I'm sorry, Doc.

Doesn't matter.

Gretchen was the best thing
that ever happened to me.

Ever since she died,

I've just been going through the motions.

Now, don't you worry about me.

The train'll be along in a minute,

and you have a class to get back to.

Oh, never mind the class.

I just find it so hard to concentrate,

worrying about Sarah.

You know she-she checked out
of the hotel this morning,

and I don't know where she got to.

You're going to find her, Dorian.

And remember,
I expect to be invited to the wedding,

even if I can't play
the mother of the groom.

[laughing]

-Thank you.
-Sarah!

Oh, Dorian.

Sarah, what--what is it? What's wrong?

Where are you going?

Oh, Dorian, you were so right about me.

I've been a doormat all my life.

I have you to thank
for showing me the way.

The way?

To New York City, of course,

to find the real me,

blossom forth, drink in the world.

But, Sarah, what about us?

We'll always have Wenton.

I'll send you a postcard from Radio City.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, I do so hope
you'll let me ride with you.

Well, yes, of course--

You have been an inspiration to me.

A role model, so to speak.

If it hadn't been for you,
I might have spent

my entire life in this Dudsville.

[train whistle blows]

Oh, here she comes.
I have to buy my ticket.

See you on the train!

Uh, Jessica?

Next time I send you an urgent SOS,

ignore it, please?