All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S10E05.A.Virtual.Murder.WEBRip.x264-ION10

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I feel as if I were inside Hastings Manor.

We don’t call this
virtual reality for nothing.

We’re not going for a writing award.

I’m going to do my best
to fix your program.

You’re destroying Michael,
you know that, don’t you?

I want a signing bonus of 300,000.

Wait a minute. I’m not
about to pay you another penny.

I believe what you do
is known as extortion.

So you discussed it again,
argued, then you killed him.

I think you’re terrified that
you’re going to be the next target.

The man was that crazy.

Hack my way inside?
Total piece of cake.

Welcome to the mind
of the total paranoiac.

[laughing]

[Jessica] Thank goodness
it’s nonstop from Boston.

[Doc Hazlitt]
To Silicon Valley, huh?

Let me get this straight.

You’ve made up
an arcade game, is that it?

What is it, one of those mind-numbing

blast the enemy’s spaceship gizmos?

Or perhaps it’s the one

where one little face goes running around

eating up all the other little faces.

Oh, of course not. Stop it!

This is very fresh.
It’s a whole new technology,

and they call it virtual reality.

They? These computer experts,

this Michael what’s-his-name?

Michael Burke,
Callie Burke’s boy.

You remember, from Kennebunk.
Michael’s her son.

One of the brilliant
young men in the field.

Of children’s game.
I can’t believe you’re doing this.

Seth, we’re about
to enter the 21st century.

I mean, we’ve got
to stay with it.

To begin with,
this isn’t just for children.

It’s partly a game,
partly an environment.

It’s really
quite an experience.

Technology, environment, experience.

Oh, Jess, come on!

Listen to me, Seth.

You wear these
electronic goggles

that are really rather like
little TV screens.

Then you put on
this glove,

and suddenly,
you’re in a world

that only exists
inside of a computer.

How do you expect me--

Except that it feels
quite real.

It’s a bit disorienting,

as if you’re visiting this strange,
almost alien place.

It’s rather wonderful.

You’re completely surrounded
by it, moving through it,

and yet, you’re
simply standing there--

And you wrote all this?

Well, just the script.

And then, these young programmers
turned it into virtual reality.

The game’s called
"A Killing at Hastings' Rock."

[Jessica] Michael,
I’m so excited to be

part of this new frontier
with you.

[Michael] It’s your words
and imagination

that has brought it
to life, Jessica.

[Jessica] Well, here we go.

[Jessica] Oh, Michael,
it’s breathtaking.

The realism is incredible.

Good evening.

Welcome to
Hastings’ Rock.

I trust you will find
your stay here... intriguing.

Oh, Jeremy Hastings
is perfect.

Exactly as I wrote him.

What about the setting
and ambiance?

[Jessica] Just as I imagined.

I feel as if I were
inside Hastings Manor.

Well, that’s the idea.

We don’t call this
virtual reality for nothing.

[computer beeping]

My compliments,
Michael, James, everyone.

It’s amazing.

[Michael] Why, thank you, Jessica.

[Michael] Please, go on.

Excuse me.

Mr. Salisbury is waiting in the...

[gasps]

Have I done
something wrong?

No. Alex, are you
picking up anything?

Uh, no, Sir. The glitch
is in the program.

-I tried to tell you that--
-Hold it, Alex, please.

Jessica, there seems to be
a problem in the programming.

Turn away and try again.

Let’s pray it doesn’t
cost us any money.

Relax, David.
We’re almost there.

Excuse me.

Mr. Salisbury is waiting in the...

We have a major problem.
Shut it down.

-You can come out, Mrs. Fletcher.
-Oh, God.

[Computerized voice] Alex Porter,
please return your mother’s call.

Damn it.

You left your pager again.

That bug never
should’ve happened.

In a perfect world,
Alex, maybe not.

No, Mrs. Fletcher, that’s a
no-brainer. Any high school hacker--

[woman over P.A.] Alex, will you
please remember

to keep your beeper with you,

and Alex,
return your mother’s call.

She’s been like this
ever since I was a kid.

She keeps on calling,

so Lindstrom devised
this system

so that everybody’s messages
go directly to their pager.

Sounds sensible to me.

Yeah, but I have to
remember to take it with me.

I don’t make
mistakes like this, James.

The servant girl was
your responsibility.

Look, both of you, I don’t give
a damn whose fault it was.

-Can we just fix it?
-Michael, I want you to understand that--

Sharon, get
yourself together.

Go get a cup of coffee
or something.

[Alex] It’s not
your fault.

I’m afraid we have to
reprogram the servant girl.

We still have 24 hours
before the introduction.

And if we hit a cascade,
we’ll be lucky to solve it

in 24 days.
-The risk is that,

sometimes, reprogramming one element
creates a kind of snowball effect,

a cascade of glitches that messes up
the whole program.

Michael, we can’t spend
another dollar on this project.

-We just don’t have it.
-I’ve got an idea.

And a buggy product, Mrs. Fletcher, means
returns, angry customers and retailers,

and a loss in faith in the publisher
and the programmer.

-If you would’ve taken time to beta test--
-Fix it, James.

Not with my reputation
on the line.

Cancel the reception.

We can’t.
It’s a done deal.

We have media and buyers coming
from all over the country.

Why don’t you
just change the script?

Why don’t you just be
a good little intern

and call your mother?
-He may have something.

No time, Michael.
No time.

Look, I may be
right off-base here,

but would it create
the same danger of a cascade

if I were to simply write
the servant girl out of the story?

A literary solution
to a binary problem.

It might work.

How long will it take?

Well, I’m not sure.

The servant girl runs
right through the story,

and provides
a lot of the clues.

I’d have to give a lot of her dialogue
to the other characters.

Look, I should get back to the hotel
if I’m gonna start this.

-Alex, stay with her.
-Yeah, sure.

Mrs. Fletcher,
keep it simple.

We’re not going for
a writing award.

Mr. Lindstrom,
I’m gonna do my best

to fix your program.

And don’t worry, David.

It’s on me.
Come on, Alex.

There’s not much more we can do until
Mrs. Fletcher gets back,

whenever that may be.

Why don’t you
finish up and stand by?

I’ll see you later.

I’m not an expert on masochism,
but I’m learning more every day.

Oh?

Watching you put up with an S.O.B.
like Lindstrom just to be near Michael,

when you don’t
stand a chance.

If that were true,

we wouldn’t be discussing it,
now would we?

Subject departs Marathon Images
by car, 7:17 p.m.

the car is a late-model
aqua Corvette convertible.

Oh, Alex, would you
please stop pacing?

I’m having enough
trouble as it is.

I’m trying to find someone else
to give this glove clue to.

Sorry.

Man, I’m really bummed,
Mrs. Fletcher.

None of this had to happen.

What do you mean?

Well...

I designed a program to test
the game at high speeds,

but Lindstrom,
the Prince of Paranoia,

nixed the idea because
I would have to have used

his source codes,
which he guards like Fort Knox.

When people turn 25,

is there a suspicion gene
that suddenly kicks in?

Oh, Alex.

I’m sorry,
Mrs. Fletcher.

By the way, have you considered
giving that clue to Mr. McCauley?

Mr. McCauley.

Sure. He was down
in the wine cellar

just after the servant girl
was there... wasn’t he?

Which means that he could’ve
seen the Colonel’s glove.

Thank you, Alex.

Where’s Lindstrom?

He took off.

I just tried him.
He’s not in his office.

[Computerized voice] Michael Burke,
there is a call for you on line eight.

Michael Burke.

Oh, hi, Karl,
how are you?

No, we’re excited out of our minds.
You’ll love it.

It’ll be worth the trip,
I promise.

And don’t forget
your checkbook.

Okay. I’ll see ya. Bye.

Not the first time
we’ve been here.

Your father’s garage.

At 4:00 in the morning,

a virus gobbling up
the program.

We thought our careers
were over before they started.

But we got through that,

and then, we went
to the beach,

and watched
the sunrise.

Seems like
a lifetime ago.

Not to me.

Mrs. Fletcher just called.
She’s done the rewrite.

That’s great.

Now where the hell’s
Lindstrom?

Subject arrives
Redwood Concepts,

11:05 p.m.

What do you know?

It seems Mr. David Salt
of Rival Marathon Images

has business
in the same place.

James, what’s
your problem?

Simply that the deal David
presented is with John Crowley.

Now I discover it’s really
with a certain Charles Kroll.

[laughs]

A legal name change?

Reinventing oneself
is about as American

as mom’s apple pie, no?

I took the liberty of
hacking into the FBI mainframe.

Three years at marion for extortion
and attempted murder.

For the past seven,
Chief of Operations

for Leavitt Games
International.

It seems that
the Justice Department

has a very keen interest
in the rather gross methods

you employ to convince
casino owners

to use Leavitt
slot machines.

James, why are we
rehashing the past?

This is a new day.

It’s a new place,
it’s a new industry.

Very good.
Fair enough.

Your offer is
basically acceptable.

But I want a signing bonus
of 300,000.

Forget it.

-Ciao.
-Come on, James, this is wrong.

Listen to him, Lindstrom.

My people won’t
like this.

I know you’re not stupid,
so I can only conclude

that you must be
very naive.

Remind your people they’re not dealing
in one-armed bandits anymore.

And the ones with two arms,
they don’t scan in this business.

David, you are in trouble.

You couldn’t come up
with some money?

Davey, based on your
representations to me,

and his word, which is
clearly worth very little,

I have put my tail on
the line with some people

who have an even lower threshold
of sympathy than I have.

So tomorrow,

if I am unable to announce
Lindstrom’s defection

to Redwood Concepts,

you are gonna be in
far deeper trouble than I am.

There’s another way.

There always is.

If you had Lindstrom’s
source codes,

the ones he wrote for
Marathon’s V.R. game,

you wouldn’t need
him at all.

Sharon, we’re running out of time.
Just set it up.

We’re gonna get started
without Lindstrom.

What do you think
you’re doing?

Obviously, I’m looking
for your codes

so we can get started up there.

The rewrite’s on its way.

My codes are right here
where they always are.

I’ll meet you
on the bridge.

Now get out.

Okay.

That should do it.
Back it up, Alex.

Done and done.

All right.
Thanks, everyone.

Let’s go for
a final run-through.

Jessica, nobody will fault you if you
want to go to your hotel and crash

till the reception.

I’d never be able
to sleep a wink.

Michael, is it too late to change
one word of Mr. McCauley’s dialogue?

-It’s no problem.
-Oh, great.

Your tinkering is becoming
tedious, Mrs. Fletcher.

It’s just part of
the creative process.

What is it that disturbs you,
the disorder?

You could say that, yes.

The beauty of
the binary system

is that everything is reducible
to zeros or ones.

It either is or it isn’t.
Clean, precise, exact.

Words that hardly apply to human
behavior, wouldn’t you say?

I mean, gray areas
are just feelings,

emotions, irrationality.

Eventually, we’ll
codify all of it.

Computers that not only
think but feel?

The future.

Tell me the truth.

Won’t that be
far more preferable

than the chaos in which
we now exist?

I suppose it would...

if control was
what I lived for.

In the scene where
Mr. McCauley

is talking about
Victoria Hastings,

will you please change
the word "lust"

to "love"?

[Lindstrom] Another glitch,
and we’re dead.

Bite your tongue.

And then pray.
Ready, people?

Up and running.

[Michael]
Here we go, Jessica.

No matter what happens,
thank you for everything.

I have a feeling it’s gonna work
fine this time. No glitches,

no crashes.

For luck.

Take it, Jessica.

Fine so far.

Oh. Good evening.

Welcome to
Hastings’ Rock.

I trust you will find your stay here...

intriguing.

[Michael] How’s it looking, Jess?

No servant girl,
no hors d’oeuvres.

I’ll miss
those little hot dogs.

[Michael] Fine so far.

[clearing throat]

I’ll meet you
in the drawing room.

If you’re lucky.

[Jessica laughs] And now, all
I have to do is find the drawing room.

The Hastings family
has a long history

of military service
in the cavalry.

Could we change the battle axes
to crossed sabers?

Bring up the weapons file.

[Sharon] We’ve got crossed sabers.

[Michael] Keep your eye
on the axes.

My compliments.

My lawyer may write me
back into the will.

Meet me in the garden
at 10:00.

[Jessica] I’ll be there, Carrie,
but I happento know you won’t.

[Sharon]
Still looking good.

Shut the door.

Exactly in character, Ms. Deavers.

Michael, this door
won’t open.

And I don’t recall writing
doors on both sides of the hall.

Where did they come from?

Those are static moments,

and they’re
an experiment.

-Can we erase them?
-No, we cannot.

We changed the axes;
why not the doors?

The axes
were an appendage.

The doors are an integral
part of the structure.

Well, a locked door
that cannot be opened

is unfair to the players.

They’ll assume that it holds
some significance.

James.

We’re talking
major reprogramming.

Jessica, it’s too risky. I promise

we’ll fix it after the press reception.

I understand, Michael.

Attention, please.
Attention.

I would like
to make a toast.

To Sharon, James,

Kate, Alex,
Alex’s mother,

and of course, to Jessica,

without whose intriguing
playful mystery

all of this never would’ve
come into existence.

[computer beeping]

[Computerized voice]
Call, Michael, on four.

Wouldn’t give his name.

Excuse me a moment.

Could be a live one, or a guy
with an identity problem.

Michael, I have a lot of work to do.
I’ll see you later.

Okay.

Uh, likewise.

Hello.

I figured I better
report in.

I spent last evening
tailing Lindstrom.

Okay, so where does it stand?

Lindstrom isn’t your only problem.

[Michael] What are you saying?

We’re talking a new
case file, Mr. Burke.

A sweeter pot.

Wait a minute, I’m not about
to pay you another penny.

You know where
to reach me.

Think it over.

Porter!

Uh, I think...

we can all
use some rest.

Got a big day ahead.

You would have Marathon’s
patented game glasses and gloves,

along with a total audio
experience sound system.

It’s a full-service package
featuring software and hardware

that we believe will change
the face of arcade gaming.

Thank you.
I’ll see you later.

Well, yes, in a novel,

the author does get to direct
the readers’ attention,

as opposed to this
virtual reality game,

in which the player
gets to make the choices.

Mrs. Fletcher will be glad
to answer all your questions

after you’ve played
"Killing at Hastings’ rock."

-We’ll go online shortly.
-Thanks, Kate.

I wasn’t quite ready to have
a discussion about alternate realities.

You’re doing great.

Don’t blow smoke at me.
You were with John Crowley last night.

What I wanna know is why.

Maybe you should find yourself
a better private investigator.

James, don’t do this.

Why don’t you find out
from the horse’s mouth?

I don’t believe this.

Where the hell
did you get that?

Gee, I suddenly can’t remember.
I don’t know.

Why, is it a crime to check out
the competition?

Get out, before I have
security throw you out.

With virtual reality
glasses on,

you simply look in
any direction you want.

To move through the game,
you move your body forward,

backward, to the left,
or to the right.

You’ll be in
booth number one.

[lock beeping]

You’ll be in
booth number two.

Alex, could you check
this door, please?

Uh, yeah, sure.
Excuse me.

Welcome to the world of
fibertech, folks,

where everything
works perfectly

until people
get involved.

[laughter]

Those source codes,

you’re sure Lindstrom
had them on his person?

No, I can’t be sure.

He did have them
last night.

But he had to
have had them

to boot up the game
on the computer.

But he would’ve put them
back in his pocket, too.

He was totally ’noid
about them.

Paranoid.

Paranoid. That covers
a lot of territory.

Well, like you’d have to kill him
to get them away from him.

Are they really worth
killing a man for?

Sergeant, the codes are
the basic operating system.

A good programmer could
change the elements,

make it a cruise ship,
new characters.

Create a whole new game.

It’d be almost impossible
to prove it was stolen,

unless you had the codes.

You boys here in The Valley
are pretty competitive.

Any ideas?

John Crowley.

Redwood Concepts.

Sergeant.

Security guard saw Lindstrom
enter the virtual reality deck

at 4:30.

No one else was
inside at the time.

Did he see anybody else
go in after that?

He took a ten-minute coffee break,
and returned at 4:50.

We didn’t lock the deck,
just the bridge.

I heard Lindstrom
being paged at 4:45.

I was coming out of
the tape library,

and I checked my watch because I
didn’t want to be late for the preview.

Follow it up.

If Lindstrom didn’t
respond to this page,

at least we have the shooting narrowed
down to a 15-minute window.

-All right?
-Gotcha.

Till I give the word, everybody
remains available for questioning.

Any problems with that?

Um, I do have some important
appointments in Manhattan tomorrow.

Just so I know
where to find you.

I was wondering what a celebrity
like you was doing here

at The Valley
of the Klingons.

But I guess everyone can use
a few extra bucks, right?

Well, I do have
a business arrangement

with Marathon, if that’s
what you’re asking.

Cold-blooded murder.
I’m asking everything.

I’ve been working this valley
for 17 years.

Every once in a while,
one of you guys

will flip out and attack
somebody with a spinach salad

or a floppy disk.

But preliminary reports
indicate

that Lindstrom was shot
with a .22.

That kind of hit you find
up on the Embarcadero

in Frisco by the wise guys.

Are you implying that
James Lindstrom was murdered

by a professional killer?

It wasn’t a spinach salad,
was it?

What time did you
leave Marathon?

Right after Michael Burke
threw me out.

The reception was
still going on,

and believe me,
Lindstrom was very much alive.

Burke said you were trying
to hire Lindstrom away.

We’d been
discussing that, yes.

Coffee?

No, thank you.

So you discussed it
again, and argued,

and you killed him.

Yeah. Come on, Sergeant.

You can do better than that.

Where’d you go after
you left the reception?

Back to my office.
I had some paperwork to do.

Anybody see you?

Not that I know of.

How about
your Secretary?

Oh, I’d given her
the afternoon off.

-No alibi.
-No.

Kind of careless of you,
wasn’t it, Mr. Kroll?

[knocking on door]

Excuse me, Sergeant.

Just heard from Brennan.

They found a weapon
in the bushes outside Marathon.

A .22 handgun,
recently fired.

It was registered to
James Lindstrom.

All right.

But even without
the codes,

can’t the game
still be marketed?

Well, yes, but given
its incredible complexity,

bugs can’t be fixed,
I won’t be able to update,

and developing the next
generation will require

going back to square one

with enormous
development costs.

My investors are ready
to jump ship already

because of our current
cost overrun.

And if we don’t market
"A Killing at Hastings’ Rock,"

well, my chance of raising any
new investment capital will be nil.

[knock on door]

Sergeant Delcanto.

I was told Michael Burke
is here.

Yes, he’s about to
drive me to the airport.

I suggest you call a cab.

Mr. Burke,
you’re under arrest

for the murder
of James Lindstrom.

Sergeant, may I ask--

the victim’s gun
was the murder weapon,

but Mr. Burke’s fingerprints
were all over it.

This way, Mr. Burke.

Have a safe flight
back to New York.

I just can’t
believe it, Jessica.

Michael is maybe
the world’s gentlest person.

That’s certainly
my impression.

On the other hand, James Lindstrom
could make almost anyone

want to take
a shot at him.

Okay, Michael’s phone list.

Did you say Parker?

I think that’s
what I heard.

Parker. Nope.
No Parker.

I’m almost certain
that it started with a "p."

Um, Porter.

Maybe that was it.
Try Porter.

Porter.
Porter Electrical.

Porter Investigations.

Investigations.
Dan Porter. That’s it.

A private investigator?

What’s that about?

I’m not sure, Kate,
but it could be the key

that will prove
Michael’s innocence.

Well, you seem to have
lucked out, Mrs. Fletcher.

It happens I just finished up
an important case

earlier than I expected.

I got this little window
before I start my next one.

That’s wonderful,
Mr. Porter.

Won’t you have a seat?

Thanks.

Oh, by the way,

how did you happen to,
uh, hear about me?

Oh, from Michael Burke,
and the police.

Uh... [clears throat]

uh... the police?

They have some rather
interesting things to say about you.

Wait a minute.

You said you had someone
you want followed.

I don’t, Mr. Porter.

That was a ploy.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I’m not gonna
play games with you, lady.

Oh, and you’re gonna
get a bill for this, too, ya know?

See you around.

Mr. Porter, I was
interested to learn

that the most recent invoice that
you submitted to Michael Burke

included a sizable charge
under the heading of

"additional expenses."

What are you getting at?

That’s how you collect far more
than your legitimate fees, isn’t it,

by withholding information
that you’ve been hired to gather,

and offering it to
the highest bidder,

whether it be your client
or the subject of your investigation?

Hey, I don’t have to
listen to this.

I think it would
be wise if you did.

I believe what you do is known
as extortion, or blackmail,

depending upon
who it is you collect from.

Either one is illegal.

Lady, nobody’s ever been
able to prove anything.

Till now, but I’m sure the police
would like to hear about your part

in this investigation,
since it involves a capital crime,

and you are a possible
accessory to a murder.

Talk to me.

Tell me what it is you weren’t
telling Michael Burke.

I don’t know
what you’re talking about.

I think you do, David.

How much did John Crowley pay you
to bring him James Lindstrom?

Mrs. Fletcher, I did
nothing illegal.

Perhaps not illegal,
but certainly not ethical.

Michael trusted you.

Look, if you’ll excuse me.

I think judging from
your hasty getaway,

you believe that Lindstrom was
murdered by a professional hit man

ordered by John Crowley.

Michael couldn’t kill anybody.

I think you’re terrified that
you’re going to be the next target

because you can
implicate Crowley.

No.

I don’t know.

I don’t even know that
James Lindstrom wasn’t suicidal;

that he didn’t hire
his own hit man

just so he could take
Michael down with him.

-That is a bizarre notion.
-Is it?

The man was that crazy.

Mrs. Fletcher, if anyone
ever opened the door

to James Lindstrom’s head,

I’d stake my life
they’d have found

that nothing was
beyond the realm of possibility.

Open the door.

The door. Of course.

This isn’t fair.

You have no right
to fire me.

Wrong. Until Michael
returns, I’m running Marathon.

You have until Friday noon
to clear out your office.

You’re destroying Michael,
you know that, don’t you?

I’m the only one who can clean up
the mess James Lindstrom left.

Don’t flatter yourself.

The Valley is full
of programmers.

Michael and I will survive
very well without you.

Don’t bet on it.

When Lindstrom said
we couldn’t 86 that door,

I remember thinking his explanation
sounded seriously bogus.

I mean, there’s no way
it could be that hard to do.

Can you open it?

Hack my way inside?
Total piece of cake, Mrs. Fletcher.

As easy as the New York
Stock Exchange?

I happened to see your file
in Sergeant Delcanto’s office.

Great. Can you believe,
after five years,

I’m still on probation?

You mean, you were
only eleven?

Well, I was just trying
to see if I could,

you know,
crack their password.

It wasn’t like I was gonna
steal anything.

[Jessica] Do you know the password?

No, but I will.

Oh, man.

This... it’s unreal.

I’ve run my random character
generator, my password algorithm,

I’ve never met a computer I couldn’t
crack in less than ten minutes.

Alex, James Lindstrom
was a genius, right?

Oh, he told you, too, huh?

Often, what stymies
the rest of us about genius

is its ability to reduce
the complex to the simple,

to the obvious.

I mean, what about
something basic, like...

"open door."

That’s it. We’re in.

All right, Alex,
I’m at the door.

Awesome. Let’s go for it.

Keep going.
It should just open.

Welcome to the mind
of the total paranoiac.

What you are witnessing
is not an isolated event,

but one of many
similar legacies

I have put into
every single program

I have ever created.

-Oh, man.
-The truth to my accomplishments

will be discovered
by computer hackers

like yourself,
for generations to come.

Give me a break.

Ah, but what of the future?

Allow me to foretell it

with a tasty little riddle
that goes...

What purpose can be served
by the mind of man,

that cannot be
better served

by the binary brain?

A lengthy meditation
may be appropriate.

Now that is
a major nut case.

[sighs]

With an ego the size
of a watermelon.

Can you believe
that bozo?

At least with a virus,
you can get rid of it.

What’s your take
on his riddle?

Well, I was hoping that
you’d have a thought or two.

The obvious.

Give artificial intelligence
a few more years,

and there won’t be anything
a computer can’t be programmed

to think out more efficiently
than the human mind.

Well, that’s a somewhat
disquieting thought.

On the other hand,
maybe there is no answer.

Say what?

Well, certain classic mystery
stories have been based on

unsolvable riddles,
conundrums,

whose only purpose was
to lead a reader

into new channels
of thought.

Maybe that explains
who’s writing

all those undecipherable
software manuals.

In any case, I’m afraid
we’re back to square one.

I was hoping that
James Lindstrom

would have something
more specific to tell us.

Mmm. Hey, listen, hacking
always makes me hungry.

How about you?

[Woman on P.A.] Alex, your mother
wants you home for dinner,

and she doesn’t
sound too happy.

Uh-oh.

Oh, I left my pager
down by the booth.

I swear it’s subconscious.

Alex, explain the paging
system to me once again.

Well, each of the pagers
is set up on a different frequency,

and the messages go directly to the
personal pagers that we all carry.

Earlier, you mentioned
a computer virus.

What if James Lindstrom
had planted a virus?

Would there be any way
of stopping it?

If he worked them
into the source codes,

it’d be almost impossible,

unless, of course,
you had the codes.

Which we don’t.

Alex, could you stick around
a little longer

without getting into any more
trouble with your mother?

-Are you kidding?
-Great.

Yeah, mom.

I know, mom.

Yes, I’ll be home.

Yes, it will be
some time this century.

She’s really terrific,

except she obsesses
about things

like when I eat
and sleep and stuff.

It’s not healthy.

Are you certain that
this will get the point across?

Oh, positive.

Hello.

Yeah, this is
Jessica Fletcher.

I was wondering
if you could help me.

Uh, I have discovered
a riddle

that was left by
James Lindstrom,

and for the life of me,
I can’t make head or tail of it.

Well, the riddle goes,
"When do 23 and 0014

"combine to penetrate stone,

and nurture a total mutation?"

I see.

Well, I had hoped that
it might be a clue of some kind.

Well, possibly it’s just one of
those meant to remain unsolved.

Yes, well, thank you
very much.

So, what do you think?

Alex, I think we may
have started a cascade

that will bring
James Lindstrom’s murderer

out into the open.

I’m the only one
Michael can trust.

Sharon.

What are you doing here?

I’m saving Michael’s dream.

Mrs. Fletcher called me.

Apparently,
James left a riddle.

"When do 23 and 0014
combine

to penetrate stone
and nurture a total mutation?"

She didn’t know
what it meant.

But I did.

James has planted
a fatal virus

in "A Killing at
Hastings’ Rock."

A time bomb set to begin
destroying his brain child

in exactly four minutes.

My god.

Genius version of
"last tag,"

but he didn’t
count on me.

The source codes.
You killed him.

Put it in.

Zero or one.

I promised myself
a long time ago

that I’d never live in that
gray world in between.

It’s either everything
or nothing for me.

I really had no choice.

James was going to
destroy Michael,

and Michael is everything.

So after I save him
from James’ virus...

I’m going to save him
from you.

Police. Freeze.

The V.R. game.

The virus is programmed
to start in--

when 23 and 0014 combine
at 14 minutes after midnight

on the 23rd?

No, Sharon.
There’s no virus.

But...

Alex composed a riddle
we hoped you’d solve.

But it was only designed
as a distraction,

like the one you hoped
to create by using

Lindstrom’s own gun
to kill him.

Your plan backfired,

because you didn’t know
Michael’s fingerprints were on it.

The reception provided
a perfect opportunity,

and an abundance
of suspects.

Lindstrom never saw you coming.

He was defenseless.

Vulnerable deep inside
the world he created.

As you approached him
in the booth,

you heard him
being paged.

[Computerized voice]
James Lindstrom, you have a call

holding on line eight.

[Sharon] I threw the gun in the shrubbery,

and went back
to the reception.

But in your haste,
you forgot about Lindstrom’s

novel paging system.

You see, had you been
coming out of the tape library

as you claimed,
you could not possibly

have heard Lindstrom
being paged.

The only way that
you could’ve heard that page

was if you were in
or near the V.R. booth

with Lindstrom.

Let’s go.

[Jessica] Consider yourself lucky
to be alive, Mr. Salt.

Well, thank you very much
for your help, Mrs. Fletcher.

You’re very welcome,
Sergeant.

My mother’s really stoked
about meeting you, Mrs. Fletcher.

I just hope it gets me
off the hook for a while.

Well, so do I.

-Have a great trip, Jessica.
-Thank you.

Jessica, thank you again
for everything.

-Have a safe flight.
-Thank you, Michael.

You know, we may just be
looking at the answer

to James Lindstrom’s riddle.

"What purpose can be served
by the mind of man

that cannot be better served
by the binary mind?"

I wonder if a computer
can ever be programmed

to enjoy something
as simple

and as beautiful as this.