Original subtitles

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

[woman] God!

If you go through with this grotesque charade,

if you marry this rich old fool,

I swear I’ll kill you!

I was far too busy having an affair

with your precious trainer.

Why would a killer wait in a closet

full of women’s clothes for Walter to open the door?

It’s him! It’s Devon!

He killed Walter and now he’s after me!

I’ll always be here.

Darling, hang on.

Please, don’t leave me.

It’s a miracle.

Doctor?

Doctor!

He’s awake!

He’s awake, he’s awake!

[woman] And cut.

[man] All right. Okay...

Good going, Devon.

Listen, I need to talk to you.

Sure.

Exciting, isn’t it?

Me, the man in the coma,

finally conscious after three years.

It’s gonna add a whole new dimension to my part.

Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about.

The good news is the character is going to fully recover,

and go back to his wife and kids in Philadelphia.

The bad news is it’s all going to happen off camera.

I don’t understand.

Well, how can I put it to you tactfully?

They’re not killing you off, Devon.

They’re dumping you.

Miss Rollins, I’m so sorry for not getting your mail myself,

but Mrs. Barrington needed some help with groceries.

It’s no trouble at all.

Thanks for the use of your key.

Anytime, Miss Rollins.

Excuse me, please.

Yeah.

Mrs. Fletcher, welcome back from Washington.

Thank you so much, Ahmed.

I kept your mail as you requested.

Oh, my goodness. Would you look at that?

I’ve only been gone three days.

May I help you upstairs with your luggage?

No, thank you. I can manage.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. I’m terribly sorry,

but this letter somehow got mixed up with my mail.

Oh, thank you very much.

It’s my pleasure.

I must say, I was delighted to discover

that my favorite mystery writer

is a fourth-floor neighbor.

Have we met before somewhere?

I’m Joanna Rollins.

You may have seen me on the daytime drama called...

Happily Ever After.

Of course.

My work schedule is pretty busy during the day, but...

sometimes I manage to catch your show on my tea break.

You know, I’d love to know

what happened after the last episode.

Oh, which, which?

Well, you had just learned that your...

The man you thought was your husband

was actually your husband’s identical twin brother?

Believe me, we got a lot of mail on that one.

I’m sure you did.

And what do you have in store for us?

I suppose you’re not. It is a bit far-fetched.

But that’s what makes it fun.

Oh, you’d be surprised how many people think

the characters on my show are actual living,

breathing human beings.

-I’m sure. -It’s frightening.

Oh, what a lovely apartment.

Why don’t you come in and have some tea with me?

Oh, that’s sounds wonderful, but I really must get home

and check my messages.

Oh, there you are.

Joanna, we need to talk.

Jessica, this is Devon Lane

and in spite of an overly dramatic entrance,

he’s actually a very talented actor.

Sonny Lane?

Oh, forgive me.

It’s just, well, coming face-to-face

with a famous child star who’s all grown up.

I’m sure you hear it all the time.

You want to know the truth?

Nostalgia makes me... gag.

Yes. Well, I’m sorry.

Please excuse me, Joanna. I really must go.

Oh, I’m sorry, too, Jessica.

-He’s usually not this rude. -That’s right.

And I usually don’t get fired

by the women I’m sleeping with.

You were born in a barn, Devon.

You’ve got the manners of a goat.

Is that why you had me kicked off the show?

Or have you found some other poor slob to humiliate?

[Joanna] Maybe I have!

[Devon] Who is he? I’m dying to know his name!

[bang on door]

[Devon] Stop acting like a damn soap opera queen and listen to me!

You listen to me, I don’t want you here!

I don’t love you and I want you out of my life!

Well, if you think you can get rid of me like this,

you are straight out of your mind!

[Joanna] I must've been out of my mind

to stay with you for three years!

And you think you can wipe it out

with a snap of your fingers.

Don’t you dare threaten me!

-[banging on door] -[Joanna] Jessica, help me!

Let me in!

Jessica!

-Lock it. Hurry. -Oh.

Joanna! Come on out here!

Don’t let him come near me.

Joanna, come on out here

or I’ll smash down this door!

Now that is just about enough, Mr. Lane.

If you don’t move away from my door this instant,

I’m going to call the police and have you arrested

for harassment and disturbing the peace.

Okay.

Only you can tell Greta Garbo,

this isn’t the end of it.

Well, I think he’s gone for now.

[Joanna on TV] I know what the trouble is, Dr. Leon.

I make too many commitments.

Can’t help myself.

I keep getting involved with people who want commitment,

who demand it.

I’m beginning to feel that...

it’s a form of emotional extortion.

There just isn’t enough time

or enough of me to share with all the desperate people

who want to consume me.

Dr. Leon,

do you suppose that’s why I feel disconnected?

So remote from Gregory?

Oh, I suppose the thing that terrifies me most is...

falling in love with Gregory...

with the children, with everybody.

Well, what do you to think of her, Bo?

Certainly is a beautiful woman, that’s for sure.

She’s a lot more than that.

She’s a reason to keep going.

Right now your heart’s going a bit too fast, Mr. Bowman.

Why don’t you slow it down a little bit?

Daddy, Teddy wants to talk to you

about a terrific investment idea.

You don’t say.

You’re smiling, Doctor.

Is there some sort of private joke going on here?

Because obviously you and I...

-are not connecting. -Walter.

There’s an old saying, Doctor, remember...

It all started when I asked myself,

when people go to an amusement park,

what do they stand in line the longest for?

Roller coasters.

So I’m thinking forget the amusement parks.

The people want roller coasters.

And we’ll give them roller coasters.

In every major city,

the biggest and the scariest in the world.

So what do you think, Walter?

What do I think?

I think that I ought to call a bunco squad

and have you thrown in the slammer.

And if you ever walk into this room again

while I’m watching TV and turn it off,

I will personally shave

that filthy face of yours with a meat cleaver.

Is that clear?

Oh, yeah, sir.

Daddy, why would you rather watch that trash than listen to Teddy?

I’d rather do anything than listen to Teddy.

And just between us, I’ve got a little something going

with that beautiful lady on the tube.

She and I are getting married.

An actress? You’re kidding me.

Marci, there are two things I don’t kid about.

Love and the stock market.

Oh, I get it. You kept it quiet until the divorce was final.

Well, when Momma finds out, she is gonna scream bloody murder.

There’s an old saying, Doctor...

"Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me."

Mrs. Bowman.

Thank you, Raymond.

God!

Quiet, please! Quiet in the room.

Let us dignify this solemn occasion

by making as little noise as possible,

so that the bride and groom can hear their vows.

[woman] All right, okay. All right, isn’t it?

Where's Marci?

Didn’t invite her.

She would’ve brought her scuzzy boyfriend.

I don’t want to say "I do" through clenched teeth.

Let us proceed.

Do you, Walter Vincent Bowman,

take this woman Joanna Grimsky Rollins

as your legally bound wife?

I do.

As set forth in the marriage doctrine,

in accordance with the law

of the sovereign state of New York.

You betcha.

And do you, Joanna Grimsky Rollins,

take this man...

-[Devon] No, wait! -[man] Who’s that?

No! No!

Joanna, how can you do this?

I love you!

[woman] It’s Sonny Lane.

[man] Everybody, quiet down! Now quiet down!

Young man, don’t you realize

that there is a legal ceremony going on here?

Joanna, please.

Didn’t the three years we lived together

mean anything to you?

Devon, it’s over.

How many times do I have to tell you that?

I love Walter now.

[witnesses] Aw!

No! No! No! No!

Security, remove this man.

This way, sir.

If you go through with this grotesque charade,

if you marry this rich old fool,

I swear I’ll kill you!

I’ll kill you both!

I’ll kill you both!

Mr. Lane.

Stop, please. I’m sorry, Mr. Lane sir,

but Mrs. Rollins Bowman isn’t in.

Well, I didn’t come to see her.

I just came to get something.

A painting I own.

Sir, I’ve been instructed to call the police

if you try to go up

to Mrs. Rollins Bowman’s apartment.

Do you know how easily I could break your arm?

I don’t suppose that it would take more than one good snap.

But I simply cannot allow you to go up there, Mr. Lane.

No, no, no.

I’m sorry, you cannot use these elevators.

Can’t you see, service elevator is too small for this here ladder.

-Then perhaps the stairs. -Maybe I should...

just levitate up the whole ten flights.

Yeah, an excellent idea.

Please let me know when you intend to try,

so I may alert the press.

[knocking on door]

-Yes? -Irwin Fisk.

Mrs. Rollins Bowman asked me

to appraise a painting that she wants to sell.

She said that she’d left you her key and you could let me in.

Yes, of course. Just a moment, please.

This way, Mr. Fisk.

I understand Mrs. Bowman

has an original Von Hochhauser.

Well, I’m great admirer of his works.

Especially his large nudes with the plump bottoms.

Irwin darling, we made it.

I told Walter if we were late,

I’d never forgive myself.

Jessica, thank you for coming to my aid.

Joanna said she hated to impose on you again,

but I said "what are friends for?"

Yeah, that’s one way of looking at it.

-Excuse me. -Yes.

-After you, sir. -Oh!

Oh, no.

What a desecration.

It’s him. It’s Devon.

Are you sure?

Yes, he gave me that painting

and he knows I’d try to get rid of it.

Oh, but to slash it like that, it’s so sick.

If you want my opinion, it’s symbolic of what he’d like to do to Joanna and me.

Oh, now, honeybunch, don’t you worry.

That lunatic is not getting near you, I promise.

And forget about that painting.

I’ll get you all the damn paintings you need.

911.

Operator, get me the police.

I need to report a felony.

Let me ask you.

Did he ever make any threat about

possibly returning later?

No.

He was here one moment and gone the next.

So what you’re saying is... you didn’t see him...

-get in the elevator and go upstairs? -Correct.

But you didn’t see Mr. Lane leave the building either?

Exactly so.

Did you see anything?

Him!

I saw him. He distracted me.

Is that true?

The only way I could’ve distracted him

is if I was to take that elevator.

And these elevators are for residents only.

I always use the service elevator.

That’s standard procedure.

Yes, but that’s not what happened exactly.

Excuse me. Then what did happen?

I... There you see? He did it again.

Mrs. Bowman,

did you ever give this guy Lane a key to your apartment?

I told you I lived with the man for three years,

so the answer to that should be obvious.

Well, I don’t know how you expect me to help you here.

There was no breaking and entering.

And even if he was the perpetrator,

all he did was slash your painting

you said was his personal property.

Officer Bronsky, Devon Lane made violent threats

against me at our wedding ceremony.

He threatened to kill us both.

About 3 million people saw it on television.

Where were you?

I’m sorry, but until he actually tries something,

I can’t do a darn thing about it.

So if he actually tries something,

we may be dead, hmm?

Ma’am, I would certainly hope that doesn’t happen.

I believe a cocktail would be in order. Now what do you think?

I think I’d like to freshen up a little bit

before I meet the woman who used to share your bed.

Hmm, you make it sound a whole lot racier than it was.

Okay.

It makes me absolutely furious

that he’d marry a woman like that.

She’s an actress.

She’s used to being treated like a star.

And that’s exactly how Daddy treats her.

Oh, it’s really disgusting.

She’ll probably end up with every cent he’s got.

My poor baby, I just hope she doesn’t end up with your inheritance.

Oh, don’t worry, Momma.

Teddy and I have come up with this little plan

to prevent that from happening.

You see, what we’re gonna do is what...

Hello, Miriam.

Hello, Walter.

Daddy, would you like me to fix you a drink?

Miriam, go count the silverware.

Ever since you brought that...

shifty-eyed hoodlum of yours into the house,

I’ve had a feeling it’s been disappearing.

See, how impossible he’s become? Ugh!

-Oh, poor Walter... -Mm-hmm.

You must have been terribly lonely

to jump into another marriage

without giving it any thought at all.

No, I didn’t have to think.

Unlike our marriage, I could feel it was real.

And I suppose you feel

disinheriting Marci is right, too.

If that happens, it’ll be because she defied me

and let that Cardozo bozo move in with her.

Such a typical father. You can’t bear the thought

of any young man sharing your daughter’s bedroom.

I can’t bear the thought of him being anywhere in my house.

And I don’t care for you being here either, Miriam.

So you jump back in that limo of yours that you got from me

with that stud chauffeur of yours that you got from me

and get the hell out of my life.

Walter, you’re wrong about the chauffeur.

I was far too busy

having an affair with your precious trainer.

Bo not only knows how to take care of his biceps.

He knew how to take care of me, too.

-Bo? -[Bo]Yes, sir.

If you’ve got a few minutes, I’d like to see you in the den. Thanks.

Right away, sir.

Darling, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing.

My god, how did you ever live with such a horrible creature?

Thank you for waking me from that nightmare.

Oh, Bo. Come in.

I don’t believe you know my wife.

Joanna, this is Bo Wilder,

my loyal trainer and trusted friend.

Nice to meet you, ma’am.

Now, Bo, it’s payday.

How much do I owe you?

Gosh, I don’t know, Mr. Bowman.

$500 sound right?

Well, maybe not quite that much.

Go to the safe and take out $500.

Now take out another 1,000.

What for?

Severance pay. I don’t need to count it.

I trust you with the money.

I’m fired?

Why? Did I do something wrong?

No, I did. I trusted you with Miriam.

That wasn’t my fault, Mr. Bowman.

I don’t want to hear about it.

Just get out.

And don’t come back.

You’re not being fair, Mr. Bowman.

And believe me, I won’t forget it.

[Joanna] Oh, I don’t know, Jessica.

Sometimes I feel like giving the whole thing up.

Everybody thinks I live such a glamorous life,

but I don’t.

Well, you’d have a lot of trouble

convincing your fans of that.

It’s just too much responsibility.

Unless I scream at the writers, I get horrible scripts.

All the producers want to do is cut the budget.

And I even have to fight with the studio execs

who look and act like they’re 12.

12 years old.

Well, it’s taken me a long time

to find the real secret.

But, you know, I’ve decided

that success is really within yourself,

not out there in the world.

Well, maybe after this season I’ll quit, just be a wife to Walter.

Oh, do you know how long it’s been

since I’ve baked a pie or even run a vacuum cleaner?

Oh, Walter.

It’s twenty to seven. I promised I’d call him at 06:30.

Is Walter in town?

No, I came in alone for my taping.

He’s at home, probably in his gym, working out.

He’s terrified I’ll fall in love

with a younger man who has bigger muscles.

-Do you mind if I use your phone, Jessica? -Oh, no, of course.

Why don’t you use the phone in my bedroom there?

Thank you.

[man on TV] Now looking at the numbers,

the industrials are steady at 269.5.

Transportation’s off...

[telephone ringing]

Hello?

Hello, darling. You’re late.

I’m sorry, darling. I lost track of the time.

After my taping, I met Jessica for tea.

And we’ve had a wonderful two hours of unwinding.

Well, don’t rush home on my account.

I’m gonna have some of that...

vile no-sodium soup the doctor suggested.

I think I’ll pass on that.

Maybe I can talk Jessica into having a bite here in town.

I’m waiting for you.

Oh, poor Walter.

It’s the cooks night out and he’s on a hideous diet.

So I have a marvelous idea.

I know a place that has the most

divinely authentic Chinese food.

And if you’re up to it, I’ll buy.

Divinely authentic? I can’t resist.

I’ll change.

My condolences, Miss Bowman.

I know how it feels to lose your father.

I called to him as soon as I came home tonight.

And he always answers.

When he didn’t, I went straight to his bedroom

and I found him in a pool of blood, Sheriff.

As soon as she screamed, I ran upstairs.

What a mess. We’re talking grotesque.

Sheriff! Sheriff!

Look what I found under the bed in the master suite.

The killer must have slung it there.

I hope you didn’t spoil any prints

or add any of your own.

No, sir. I followed the discovery manual.

That’s one of my father’s shotguns.

He keeps it in the closet in the den.

I remember when I was six years old,

he caught me lugging it through the hall.

It was the first smacking I ever got.

No kidding, then maybe you can tell me

how many other people in this house knew

where that was kept.

Maybe she doesn’t know.

Come on, let’s go upstairs.

Do they desensitize reporters

when they hire them or are they born that way?

Mrs. Bowman,

allow me to express my heartfelt condolences.

Your husband and I were old poker playing buddies.

He was a fine man and a good citizen.

Does that mean he contributed to your campaign fund?

Forgive me, Sheriff.

I’m just not myself tonight.

I understand. I have lost someone close to me this year.

My father.

Of course, in his case, it was natural causes.

Do you know how I found out about this, Sheriff?

I was having dinner with my friend

at a restaurant in Manhattan. It was getting late,

I thought I should call Walter so he wouldn’t worry.

My stepdaughter’s boyfriend answered the phone

and I think his exact words were,

"somebody just blew a hole through Walter

the size of a manhole cover."

Now what I want to know from you is

what are you doing to find the murderer?

Well, we recovered the murder weapon.

And as soon as the fingerprint people get here,

we’ll have them go over it.

There’s a shotgun. May I have a look at that?

-No, wait just a minute. -Oh, it’s all right, Sheriff.

This is Jessica Fletcher, the mystery writer.

Sure. I’ll be darned, I should have recognized you.

Would you be able to tell me

about these two marks on the stock?

What marks?

Well, these two round swirls, you can barely make them out.

Looks to me like they’re imperfections in the wood.

Two marks on the same side of the stock?

Sure, I’ll bet your dollar to a doughnut my deputy here

can tell you when that happened.

When the killer tossed the shotgun under the bed.

There, what did I tell you?

Thanks, Ginger.

Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Fletcher?

Yes, with your permission,

I would like to take a look at the murder scene.

You can see where he fell.

Yeah.

Was he shot in the back?

No, he took the blast of both barrels right in the chest.

Now was the closet door open when they discovered the body?

Well, that’s what his daughter says.

Of course, the killer

could have been waiting for him in the closet.

You know, that’s my theory, too,

but the sheriff doesn’t buy it.

The question is

how did he know that Walter was going to open the door?

I mean, he could've been waiting in there for hours.

Well, that’s what the sheriff said, yeah.

Was Walter getting dressed when he was shot?

No.

He was wearing his sweat suit

like he’d just come from his private gym.

Yeah, but why would he go in the closet

if he was gonna take a shower?

Maybe he’s like me.

I always layout all my clothes before I shower.

Well, having met Walter,

I doubt if that’s what he had in mind.

Women’s clothes. That is strange.

What’s even stranger

is why would a killer wait in a closet

full of women’s clothes for Walter to open the door?

Unless he was waiting for a woman to open it.

You mean to say this guy threatened to kill both you

and Walter in front of witnesses?

And TV cameras,

dozens of reporters, and a city clerk.

His name is Devon Lane.

He was a former child actor called Sonny Lane.

Hell, I remember Sonny Lane.

It’s a cute little rascal.

Well, I can assure you, he’s not so cute anymore.

[telephone ringing]

Bowman estate.

Yeah, Doc.

The medical examiner.

Can you me give me an echo on that?

No, I’m not criticizing.

Uh-huh.

Probable time is good, too.

Thanks, Doc.

The preliminary examination

fixes the probable time of death

somewhere between 6 and 8 o’clock.

Joanna, what time did you call him?

About 06:45, wasn’t it?

He was on his treadmill.

And he said he’d be in his gym for another 15 minutes.

Well, then it seems likely

that he must have been killed about 07:05.

That’s my calculation.

Oh! It’s him! It’s Devon!

He killed Walter and now he’s after me!

Well, now what have we got here?

What’s the big deal? I heard about the murder.

I just wanted to find out if Joanna was all right.

Liar. You killed Walter and you came back to kill me, too!

How are you gonna prove that?

You were caught trespassing at a murder scene.

That’s reason enough to hold you for questioning.

Read him his rights, Ginger.

Wait, please.

Devon, where were you at seven o’clock this evening?

Seven?

He was right here in this house,

waiting in Walter Bowman’s bedroom

with a loaded shotgun.

No, not true.

I was in the casting office

in Manhattan from 6:00 till after 8:00.

I had to read for a part.

Would anybody there remember you?

Yes, Dorothy Fremont, the casting director.

Her card is in my wallet.

No.

And the second number is her home phone.

Try it.

I don’t care what Dorothy Fremont says.

I know he killed Walter.

Yeah, is this Miss Fremont? Mm-hmm.

Yeah, I’m with the Gull Harbor Sheriff’s Department.

And we have a man here who says he was in your office

for two hours tonight starting at 6 o’clock.

Yeah. That’s the one.

Thanks for your cooperation.

I’ll do that.

What’d she say?

Well, he was there, all right.

But she wants us to tell him that she wishes

we could arrest him for obnoxious behavior

and lock him up as a psychopath.

You see, baby? I still have some fans.

Okay, Sonny, you’re free to go.

But, if I ever see you around here again,

I will lock you up.

It’s the truth. Walter’s tragic death has made me rededicate my life

to make his dream come true.

Walter saw this great land of ours covered

by humongous roller coasters from sea to shining...

Hello?

Ted?

Mr. Turner?

We got cut off.

But I think I piqued his curiosity.

Well, you certainly piqued mine.

Roller coasters?

You know, I knew they’d made some of your books into movies,

and if you don’t mind me asking,

where did you invest the money?

Teddy, she’s not interested, okay?

All right.

Mrs. Fletcher, what do you want from us?

Well, I’m trying to get the events of last night

straight in my head.

It would help me to know where you were at seven o’clock.

Out to dinner. We... I don’t know, the cook was off duty.

We left the house around 05:00,

went to the beach club, had a few cocktails,

went to the Hamptons and had some polluted oysters.

And did anyone happen to see you?

Nobody but a bunch of damn tourists.

Nobody under 30.

It was like aliens had landed

and carried off all the interesting people.

I see.

What you really mean, Mrs. Fletcher,

is we could be lying.

Either one of us could’ve done it

for exactly the same reason.

To make sure Daddy didn’t cut me out from his will.

Isn’t that what you really mean, Mrs. Fletcher?

Jessica, I can’t stand it here another minute.

I’m going into town to tape a segment of my show,

but I can drop you at your place if you’d like.

Oh, good. Thank you.

Well, I’m sorry to see you both go.

Marci, I’ll be back for the funeral.

Until then, I’ll be living in town.

Oh, a word of caution.

Until the will is read,

don’t take anything from the house

or I’ll have to have you arrested.

So much for the wicked stepmother.

This is Walter’s car.

Can you imagine a man well over his age

driving a car like this?

Are you all right?

You murderer, you tried to kill me.

No, baby, not true.

I saw you were leaving. I wanted to stop you and talk.

Devon, you were driving straight at us.

I lost control for a second.

If I wanted to kill you, why did I honk the horn?

To scare me, and it worked.

I couldn’t move. If Jessica hadn’t been here...

I’m sorry, okay? I got excited.

I got carried away for a moment.

All I wanted to ask you was,

now that Walter is dead, is there any chance for us?

You’re insane.

You’re a monster.

An animal. I’m calling the police.

You know the funny part?

If we were playing this scene on that stupid program of yours,

all those vapid people who watch you

would be jumping out of their wheelchairs.

Please leave right now.

Listen, my soap queen.

If I decide to kill you,

I’ll think of a lot cleverer way

than to run you down with a car.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, a thousand welcomes.

Well, one will do very nicely.

I’ve only been gone overnight.

Would it be appropriate to ask

if you’re acquainted with a woman

who is waiting to see Mrs. Rollins Bowman?

She gave her name as Mrs. Bowman.

Oh.

Excuse me, Mrs. Bowman? I’m Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, yes. Joanna’s friend.

I was told she’d be along any moment.

Well... She just dropped me off.

Actually, she’s on her way to the television studio.

Oh, oh.

You see, Marci, my daughter, phoned me to gloat over

chasing her out of the Long Island house.

And I suddenly felt...

Well, it must have been so difficult for Joanna,

living in that house with such a spiteful stepchild.

It’s funny, but it took Walter’s death for me to realize Joanna

would have been good for him.

Well, I think that’s very gracious of you.

Oh, actually, no. It was out of guilt.

You see, when I told Walter about the affair

I’d been having with his trainer,

he fired him like that.

So if I hadn’t been such a vindictive bitch,

Walter wouldn’t have been alone in the house.

Would you please tell Joanna

that I would like to sit down with her sometime

and have a nice, long talk?

You see, my analyst feels it would benefit both of us.

Mrs. Bowman, do you know

how I could get in touch with Walter’s trainer?

Bo?

Excuse me.

Are you Bo?

-Mrs. Fletcher? -Yes.

You know, I got to thinking about

what you said on the phone.

But I must have been pretty upset that Walter had fired me.

Well, I was upset at first.

Then I sort of understood how Walter must have felt.

Miriam was his wife at the time.

She was feeling neglected and I was handy.

I never know what to do in a situation like that.

I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings.

Where did you go after you left the estate?

I drove back to the city to my apartment in Soho.

But I had so much nervous energy

that I couldn’t sit around watching the sports channel.

So I went out and ran three hours.

What time was that?

I guess I left around 5:30.

And you were back home by 08:30?

Yeah, yeah, something like that.

And then I took a shower and I made a tofu salad

and watched the basketball game.

That’s when the news came on

saying that Walter was found murdered in his room.

I cried like a baby.

Walter was like a dad to me.

I don’t remember my own father.

I don’t suppose I’ll ever forget Walter.

Excuse me.

Name?

Jessica Fletcher.

You here for the hooker?

Well, no, not exactly.

I came to see Dorothy Fremont.

You got it. Come on in.

Oh, thank you.

I got your message.

Typical.

Whenever some screwed-up former child star

gets himself in a mess, it ends up on the news

and makes the whole industry look shabby.

He told to police that he was here in your office

at the time that Walter Bowman was murdered.

Oh, he was here, all right. I couldn’t get rid of him.

The dumb thing is I had a director here,

well-known director who wanted Sonny or Devon,

or whatever he calls himself,

to read for the lead role in a feature.

It was for the part of a former child star

who’s a little bit nuts,

and how is that for typecasting?

And did he get the part?

No. He showed up a day late.

The part was already cast.

He claims we never told him

that the meeting was moved back a day.

But our telephone log shows

that my girl called him three times

and left a message on the machine.

And how did he explain that?

He blamed it on me.

He demanded that I call the director

and tell him it was my mistake.

And when I said I couldn’t possibly do that,

he went bananas.

He began waving and ranting for hours

till I finally had to call security.

You know this is a very interesting old lamp, Ms. Fremont?

Not old, it’s ancient.

I got it for my graduation. Believe it or not,

I went to the same high school as Walter Bowman.

You know it’s a shame.

A horrible way to die.

Opens a closet door and bam!

Yes. That’s right. Thank you.

That’s exactly what happened.

Jessica?

[Jessica] I’m upstairs.

Jessica?

I got your message.

What on earth are you doing here?

There have been some new developments in Walter’s murder,

and I wanted to share them with you.

Why come all the way out to Long Island?

Because I needed to talk to Sheriff Beals, too.

Oh, about what?

A rather bizarre plan.

One of the boldest that I have ever encountered.

A plan that was set in motion

the day that I met you in the lobby of Penfield House.

You wanted that meeting to appear casual.

You must have known Ahmed was holding my mail

while I was in Washington.

He told me that you asked him to keep yours in his desk, too.

You said you were expecting a large check.

When you picked up your letters,

you deliberately took one of mine

and used it as an excuse to make my acquaintance.

Why would I go to all that trouble?

To ensure that I would be with you

when Devon gave one of his more convincing performances.

That carefully staged fight outside your apartment door,

which was designed to show me his volatile nature

and makes me a witness

to the dramatic end of your relationship.

Why?

For what conceivable purpose?

Well, to advance your meticulously planned plot.

The big scene at City Hall came next.

Now that was pure television and it was on television.

How perfect for the villain, or should I say decoy,

a newsworthy former child star

to threaten Walter’s life in front of millions of people.

You seem to be building up to an accusation, Jessica.

So let me remind you that I was with you

the entire evening that Walter was murdered.

Who better for an alibi than the loyal neighbor

who had already been through so much with you?

Oh, this is really incredible, Jessica.

Poor Devon, he needed an alibi, too.

Because the readings for a part

he was up for got pushed back one day.

And he was forced to stay away from a casting call

that could've led to an important part in the movie

because the date of the murder was already set.

It had to be the cook’s night out.

So Walter would be in the house alone.

The irony of it is,

I would have killed for that part.

But you had to sacrifice it

because you needed the perfect alibi.

Your shouting match with Dorothy Fremont.

I was with Dorothy.

If you’re saying I came back here, that’s impossible.

I couldn’t be in two places at the same time.

No. Nor could Joanna.

But that murder was designed for that.

You see, Mrs. Fletcher figured out

how you two did it as a team.

When she examined the murder weapon,

she noticed two round marks on the same side of the stock.

Slight indentations in the wood.

Swirls indicating pressure had been applied.

Not being much of a carpenter,

I couldn’t imagine what made those marks.

Until I saw a desk lamp in Dorothy Fremont’s office,

it was the kind that clamps onto the edge of a desk.

So Mrs. Fletcher called me

and asked me to check the shelf and the closet.

See if I could find any circular indentations.

Sure enough, there were two.

Perfect matches for the ones on the murder weapon.

Care to take a look and see for yourself, Sonny?

I will.

I don’t have anything to hide.

Oh!

That’s how Walter died.

The murder weapon was secured to the shelf

like this one with the c-clamps.

And when he opened the door,

the twine pulled the trigger like a string pulling a tooth.

I checked the closet and couldn’t find any clamps.

So I had to buy those in the hardware store.

These I found in your car, Mr. Lane.

Along with a ball of twine.

You can’t prove I rigged up that shotgun.

No, because you didn’t.

But you did come back to the house

after the murder to unfasten the shotgun

and slide it under the bed.

Kind of stupid of you to leave that stuff in the car.

All right, I took the gun out of the closet,

but I didn’t set it up.

His loving wife did that.

Why did she put the shotgun in her closet and not his?

Because Walter might've opened his closet any time.

She wanted it to happen during the period

when they both had their carefully planned alibis.

So she set it up in her closet.

When she called him from my apartment,

she must have asked him to get something for her.

A credit card

she said she left in the pocket of a jacket.

No. This whole sick plan, it was his idea.

He said he’d be a decoy so no one would suspect me.

He is mentally deranged, he’s violently ill.

Oh, I’ve taken the abuse, I’ve taken it day after day

and month after month, but he said to me,

he said if I didn’t cooperate, he’d kill me.

And I knew he would. I did.

I knew he would. I knew it.

Bravo, darling.

How about trying it again?

Only this time with conviction.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

Let me help you with these.

Thank you, Ahmed.

I see you made the papers again.

This Sonny Lane thing though, it’s very sad, huh?

Yes.

You would think that people would learn.

The first lesson you learn as a writer is,

don’t complicate the plot.

Were there any packages for me today?

No, not today.

Oh, but you did have a visitor.

When I asked him what he wanted to see you about,

he mentioned the wonderful business he was starting.

A terrific opportunity for investment.

So I called my cousin back home and I think we can get...

Wait a minute, Ahmed. Slow down.

What kind of investment?

Roller coasters.