All language subtitles for Murder, She Wrote S04E04 Old Habits Die Hard.DVDRip.HI.en.UNIV

[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.

The paper says! I don't care what anybody
says! Sister Emily did not kill herself!

One of the other nuns
committed murder.

But honestly, nothing like that
has ever happened here before.

Well, you think that getup entitles
you to mess up everybody's life?

Are you getting out or are
you just admiring the view?

Hold your horsepower. I'm goin'.

You know who's
behind this, don't you?

My unworthy
opponent, that's who.

- "Let's drop this thing,
what do ya say? Okay?"
- [Woman Screaming]

[Bell Tolling]

[Woman] Amen. Hail Mary, full
of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women, and
blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us
sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Amen. Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee. [Man Shouting]

[Woman] Please, Mike,
you have to understand.

[Mike] This is insane.
You're throwing your life away!

It's my life! You're crazy!
They've poisoned you against me!

I go away for a week and find you've
come back into this place? Mr. Phelps...

Just stay out of this,
Sister. This is all your fault.

All that garbage she's been
putting in your head— Oh, Mike.

Aw, Sarah, come on. You've
got your whole life ahead of you.

I love you. I want us to
get married, have kids,

all those things
we talked about.

No, Mike—you talked about.

Mr. Phelps, Sarah
has made her decision.

Please don't upset her anymore.

You people!

All of you!

Well, you think that getup entitles
you to mess up everybody's life?

I'm not givin' up, Sarah.
No way is this over!

[Van Door Closes]

[Tires Screeching]

Are you getting out or are
you just admiring the view?

Hold your horsepower. I'm goin'.

Don't patronize me, Jess.

We are growing the scrawniest
tomatoes east of the Mississippi. [Laughs]

Well, let's just say they're a
little underdeveloped. [Laughs]

I've tried everything—
Fertilizer, prayer.

I even considered
doing a rain dance, but I

was afraid the bishop
might catch me at it.

Well, Claire, I hate to remind you,
but your thumb is anything but green.

Do you remember
that little flower patch

that we started behind
the Kappa Delta house?

Do I remember? While you
were knee-deep in marigolds,

my zinnias just quit before
they even started to bud.

Thank you, Sister Emily.

Must you really leave on Friday, Jess?
This is the best visit we've had in years.

I know it. I'm afraid
I have to, though.

I've got a half-finished book in the
typewriter and a very anxious publisher.

Well, at least you'll be here
for the dedication service.

Oh, absolutely. I mean, it isn't every
week that your chapel gets a new organ.

I just hope the thing
works. Electronic.

Mother Superior, excuse
me, but Sister Anne says

she has to see you
in the office right away.

Thank you, Amy.
Amy, say hello to...

Certainly nothing I said. No.

Oh, she's a dear child, but she's
terribly frightened and unhappy.

We get a lot of 'em like Amy
here— Abused, neglected.

Usually we can draw
them out, win their trust.

But Amy's been particularly
difficult, I'm afraid. Mm-hmm.

[Bell Ringing] Well, will
you excuse me? Duty calls.

Mm-hmm. I have some phone
calls to make too. Bye-bye.

But I have worked
out the second half of

the story. I just have
to finish writing it.

[Chuckles] Yes, I know
you've heard that before.

No. Right. Well, it's awfully
hard for me to drag myself away...

from the lovely peace
and quiet of this convent.

Well, I promise. Right. Bye-bye.

[Woman] Damn it, Sister Paul!
Watch your language, child!

Look, all I wanna do is talk to her, that's
it. I'm not gonna cause her any harm.

You said quite enough to
Sister Emily two years ago.

Now I want you to
leave at once. Or what?

Time hasn't changed
you very much, has it?

Mrs. Fletcher?

You are Jessica
Fletcher, aren't you?

Oh, but of course you are.

I am Marion Simpson.
Mayor Simpson's wife.

I can't tell you how—
How delighted we are...

to have a celebrity of your stature
visiting us here in Bergen Falls.

Well, that's very kind of you, but
I'd hardly call myself a "celebrity."

Well, what does it matter, as
long as other people do, am I right?

Well, I suppose—
Of course I'm right.

Why do you suppose I persuaded my husband
to speak at the dedication tomorrow?

I said to him, "Albert, they
may be the little people,

but it's the little people
who get out and vote."

True? Well,
certainly the public...

Of course, they do!
And in an election year,

you can't afford to
miss a single opportunity

to gather support,
don't you think?

Undoubtedly. Oh, I just knew we
would be simpatico the moment I saw you.

I just wish that the Mother
Superior shared our savvy.

Do you know that she actually
forgot to invite the Goldsteins?

I'm on my way now to
straighten this whole thing out.

Well, actually, I think
she's very busy right now.

Oh, no, no. She's never too busy to see
me. Why don't you come along, Jessica.

Maybe you can talk
some sense into her.

I mean, she's a dear
thing, but sometimes I

just think she's not
in touch with reality.

Come on. I'll lead the
way. I grew up in this place.

That's why I just can't
do enough for them now.

And Albert— Albert
is just so supportive.

And then in his
third term of office,

Albert established the town's first free
medical clinic which I administer myself.

Though heaven knows with
all my other charitable duties,

I hardly have time
to draw a free breath.

You know what I mean? Of
course you do, a busy writer like you.

Well, here we are. I bet you
thought we'd never get here.

[Man] You mean, this
is— this is all you have?

Yes. I'm sorry, Mr. Carter,

but as you see, our files show
no record of a Linda Stone.

Yes, ma'am, I understand
what you're saying,

but like I said, she
could've changed her name.

See, that's why I brought
along this snapshot.

It's sort of blurry. It's hard to
tell, but she's a little bitty thing,

about 5'0 ", 5'1",
blonde hair, green eyes.

[Sister] No, I'm sorry.

I know 15 years ago was
a little before your time.

But I was thinking, maybe one of
the older nuns might remember her.

I'd really
appreciate it, Sister.

Well, Sister Emily has
been keeping informal

files of her own for
years on her girls.

Sister Emily. Now that's
someone I'd like to talk with.

Mother Superior, far
be it for me to interrupt,

but I'm due at a ladies
auxiliary meeting...

and we simply must discuss
those invitations to the dedication...

before I dare face
Mrs. Goldstein.

Claire, perhaps I can help. We passed
Sister Emily's room on the way here.

I'm sure that I could show this
gentleman the way without getting too lost.

Oh, Jess, would you? I
would be much obliged, Miss...

- Fletcher.
- Miss Fletcher, my name's Ray Carter.

Oh.

Now, Mrs. Simpson, what is
all of this about Mrs. Goldstein?

Mrs. Simpson?

If I'm not mistaken, Sister Emily's
room should be right down here.

I only hope Sister
Emily's half as

accommodating as you
and the Mother Superior.

I have to tell you, Miss
Fletcher, a man in my

business comes to
appreciate something like this.

Oh? And what business
is that, Mr. Carter?

Private investigations,
Miss Fletcher.

Least ways I will be until I wrap up
this case, if I manage to wrap it up.

I'm thinkin' about
takin' down my shingle,

packin' up an old fishin' pole and retirin'
down to a place I got in Florida...

where the catfish, they tell me,
are bitin' the whole year round.

Well, it must be a pretty good
case if it can afford you all of that.

Well, I wouldn't wanna
bore you with the details.

It involves an inheritance,
that sort of thing, you know.

Yeah, this little lady
could be my ticket south.

She's kinda pretty,
isn't she? Oh, yes.

Figure I'll let Sister Emily
mull over that picture for

a couple days. And, boy, I
hope it rings a bell with her.

[Bell Ringing] Well, speaking
of bells. Now let me see.

Yes. There's Sister
Emily right there.

Ah. Well, you've been
mighty nice, Miss Fletcher.

If you're ever in the sunshine
state, you give me a holler.

Well, be sure to give my regards to
the catfish, Mr. Carter. [Laughs] Okay.

Uh, excuse me, Sister Emily?

Hi. My name's Ray Carter.

I, uh, hope you'll
pardon this intrusion,

but the Mother Superior thought
you might be able to supply me...

with some information on
the—the girl in this picture.

It was taken just before she ran
away from home about 15 years ago.

And I got a lead a little while
ago that she might have...

come down this part of
the country and stayed

with you folks in the
convent for a while.

Fifteen years is a
long time, Mr. Carter.

It surely is, and I wouldn't be
troubling you now if it weren't important.

This girl's daddy's dying.
He's a very wealthy man,

a tremendously important person,

but his one wish is that he
makes up with his little girl.

See, it's my understanding he actually
kicked her out of the house 15 years ago.

I'll check my records
and let you know.

Sister, would you have
a few minutes now?

I'm sure the Mother Superior
knows how to find you.

Very nice to have
met you, Mr. Carter.

You'll be hearing from me.

You know, the last
time I saw Nellie,

she was trying to organize
a rafting excursion...

[Gasps] The sugar. down
the Snake River in Idaho.

[Laughing] Oh, dear. Nellie.

She couldn't open a can of peas without
cutting a finger. I hope she survived.

Oh, yes. She even sent me
photos... from her hospital bed.

Nothing serious.

Just a broken ankle.

You treat it like a
minor inconvenience.

Excuse me, Sarah. I
think you dropped this.

Oh. Yes. Thank
you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, isn't that a
beautiful crucifix.

That's a Celtic cross, isn't it?

You must come from an
Irish family. Yes, ma'am.

I mean, I suppose so. I don't
really remember them very well.

- Will that be all, Mother Superior?
- Yes, dear. Thank you, Sarah.

Sarah seemed a little distracted. I
hope I didn't make her feel uncomfortable.

You? The girl who managed
to charm Dean Franklin...

out of a three-day suspension?

Well, you could have to...

if you had only stopped climbing
that flagpole when he told you to.

What, and lose the bet? No.

[Both Laughing]

[Doorbell Chimes]

Yes, can I help you?

Oh, yes. Hello. I'm Dr. Marshall.
I'm here to see Sister Emily.

I see. If you'll wait here a moment,
I'll find someone to let you in.

Oh, Sister Paul,
I'm glad you’re here.

There's a Dr. Marshall at
the door for Sister Emily.

Dr. Marshall? Sister Emily
has always used Dr. Hart.

Oh, well, I'll straighten
it out, Mrs. Fletcher.

That takes care of the
arrangements for the service.

Now, as far as the
refreshments are concerned...

Don't worry about a thing.

Sister Margaret-Marie has
baked at least six dozen cupcakes.

And Sister Mary-Margaret has
made enough punch to float an ark.

Not to mention all the
cookies Sister Margaret-Mary

and Sarah are gonna
be bakin' tonight.

So, you see? We've got it all
taken care of. Right? [Both] Right?

Honestly, Sisters, I don't know
what I would do without you.

- Do you, Jess?
- Oh, no, indeed.

It sounds like a
veritable feast.

- Sister Mary-Margaret?
- Margaret-Marie.

Oh, dear. I'm so sorry.

You'd be surprised how many
people get us confused. Oh, absolutely.

It's amazing! [Giggling]

It's hard to fathom,
isn't it, Mrs. Fletcher?

[Man] Linda? That's impossible!

Are you absolutely certain
that the man said Linda Crane?

She's using the
name of Stone now,

but I—I recognized
the description.

And I was right there when Jessica
Fletcher took him to see Sister Emily.

And I am sure that
she'll identify her picture.

My God. I thought that
was behind us 15 years ago.

- You think I didn't?
- You know who's behind this,
don't you?

My unworthy
opponent, that's who.

But how would he know?

[Shouting] Well, who knows?

Still, I do know this. He does
not have anything solid on me yet,

or my spies would have told me.

Still, if he thinks I am
going to stand around here...

and watch my entire
career go down the drain,

then he has a hell
of a surprise comin'.

Albert, wait! Where are you
going? What are you going to do?

[Woman Screaming]

What is it? What's happened?

[Claire] I don't care what the paper
says! I don't care what anybody says!

Sister Emily did
not kill herself!

Claire, please. I admit
it's hard to believe. Hard?

Jessica, you met her.
You saw what she was like.

Yes, she was ill, but she
was also vital and concerned,

but above that, she was devout.

Now how on earth could a woman
like that deliberately take her own life?

- [Man] I doubt we'll ever know.
- Oh, Bishop Shea.

This is a terrible thing. I
know how close you were.

Yes. Thank you.

Oh. This is a dear friend of mine
who's been visiting these past few days.

Jessica Fletcher. Jessica,
Bishop Patrick Shea.

Pleasure to meet you. I wish it
were under happier circumstances.

We were just saying how
difficult this is to believe.

My own reaction,
of course. Suicide?

The notion was ridiculous.

But then the sheriff showed
me his preliminary report.

I—I'm afraid that the large amount
of medication in her system...

makes it clear that the
overdose was no accident.

And then with this note that
they found written in her own hand.

The sheriff was kind
enough to give me a copy.

Well—Well, it doesn't take a
mathematician to add up the score.

Excuse me, Bishop. Would you
mind if I had a look at the note?

Sadly enough, it's a passage
from the Bible. Bishop, forgive me.

If it were written in stone and
hand-delivered by Moses himself,

it still wouldn't convince me
that Sister Emily took her own life.

Mother Superior, you
yourself told the police...

that the convent was locked up
tight from 6:00 until they arrived.

That no one came in or
out all night. No one did.

Then what are you saying? That
one of the other nuns killed her?

No, that's the only
other alternative, unless

you're trying to pin it
on Mrs. Fletcher here.

- Me?
- Oh, you don't mean that.

No, of course I don't. I'm
merely trying to point out to you...

how ridiculous this line
of thinking can become.

Well, ridiculous or not,

it's obvious we'll have to
postpone today's dedication.

Mother Superior, one moment.

The parish has been rocked
to the core by all of this...

with tremors reaching
up to the cardinal himself,

who agrees that the
sooner we put this behind us,

the better it'll
be for everyone.

Surely you can't
mean— Case closed.

Requiem aeternum pacem.

♪ [Organ Playing Slowly]

♪ [Sisters Singing In Latin]

♪ [Continues]

You look as if
you could use this.

Did somebody lace
it with sherry, I hope?

I'm afraid not. Mmm, too bad.

If the bishop expects me
to swallow that suicide story,

it's going to have to be something a
lot stronger than this to wash it down.

Claire, are you
absolutely positive...

that no one came in or out of the
convent last night after you locked up?

Well, Sister Paul would have
had to unlock the door herself.

As far as the
possibility of a break-in,

the police checked all the locks and the
windows themselves and found nothing.

Why, Jess? Well,
it's probably nothing,

but I couldn't help but
notice that young man...

that Sarah was staring
at during the service.

- There he is.
- Mike Phelps?

[Chattering]

Mother Superior. Excuse me.

The Sweeneys are leaving.

Already?

You know you're in trouble when the
Sweeneys run out before the food does.

[Chattering]

Sisters, I realize that
this is a very difficult time,

but I do think that you and Sarah have
done a wonderful job with everything.

- Sarah?
- You did mention she had been
baking cookies with you last night.

Oh! Well, yes,

but she asked to be excused at
8:30 for an hour of solitary prayer.

Well, that's odd. She wasn't in her
room when I looked in at about 9:30.

And I dusted in the chapel till
nearly 10:00, and I didn't see her.

She wasn't in her room at 11:00.
I checked before meditation hour.

[Mary-Margaret] Then where—
[Margaret-Marie] Do you suppose she's ill?

She did leave the service early.
And I haven't seen her since.

Thank you for mentioning
this, Mrs. Fletcher.

[Mary-Margaret] Oh, yes, indeed.
[Margaret-Marie] Very perceptive.

We'll have to see if she's
all right. You will excuse us?

Yoo-hoo, Jessica!

I don't believe you've had a
chance to meet my husband yet.

Albert, this is Jessica.
I've told him all about you.

- How do you do?
- How do you do, Miss Fletcher?

Isn't it awful about Sister Emily?
Of course, the less said, the better.

But honestly, nothing like
that has ever happened

here before in the whole
history of the convent.

Isn't that right, Albert? As
far back as the Civil War.

- The Civil War?
- Yes, ma'am.

This old place used to be a link
with the Underground Railroad.

Hidin' runaway slaves,
helpin' 'em get up north.

And now to think that a nun
actually committed suicide here.

Well, to be honest, there are some
of us who aren't convinced about that.

What do you mean? The paper said it
couldn't possibly have been an accident.

Come on now, Miss Fletcher. Don't tell me
you're suggesting that Sister Emily was...

I'm only suggesting, Mr. Simpson, that
we really don't have all the facts yet.

You can't be talking murder.

Good heavens, who in the world
would want to kill Sister Emily?

- Unless— - Unless?

Oh, this is terrible of
me, but that young girl—

Marion, come on. What is
it you're babblin' about now?

Well, she was here
yesterday. I saw her, Albert.

Nancy Bates. You
remember Nancy Bates?

But of course you do.

Isn't she the ward that was sent
off to prison a couple years back?

Yes. Largely due to
Sister Emily's testimony.

In fact, that girl swore to get
her revenge when she got out.

Marion, come on now. Let's
not go jumpin' to conclusions.

Look it there. Isn't that
Professor Dontzig? Oh, yes, it is!

We haven't gotten his
campaign contribution yet.

Yoo-hoo, Professor. Hello.

Excuse us, won't you?
[Chuckles] Miss Fletcher.

[Clattering]

[Girl Whimpering]

Amy! What are you doing here?

Nothing. I-I was just— I was
studying and I heard you coming.

And we're not really supposed to be
in here, I mean, when there's no class.

- Would you like my handkerchief?
- [Shouts] Why?

I'm not crying.

Sister Emily said
that we were friends...

That I was like a daughter to
her. I'm sure she meant that.

Well, then why did she do
it? Why did she kill herself?

That's a sin—a mortal sin!

No one really knows
what happened or why.

Sister Emily used to say that
the truth was in the holy Gospel.

And if you ever had a problem or needed
an answer, all you had to do was look.

She used to write
out verses for me,

and I'd look them up and...

Amy, wait. Do you
have those verses?

Well, sure, here in my book.

May I see them?

Okay. Thanks.

I have to admit,
these do appear...

to bear a certain
similarity to the note,

but I don't think they have
anything to do with— Similarity?

But Sister Emily's so-called
suicide note was a teaching aid...

Something probably
wrote out for Amy.

Even so— There may
be more in her room.

No. Even so, that overdose could hardly
have been accidental, note or no note.

[Clattering]

May I help you?

I'm sure you'll
have a reasonable

explanation for your
presence here, Mr.— Mr.—

It's Dr. Marshall, isn't
it? That's the name you

gave yesterday when you
came to visit Sister Emily.

I'd stopped by to give her a refill on
a prescription she'd called me about.

[Jessica] Oh? I must
have misunderstood.

I thought that I was told that
Dr. Hart was her regular physician.

Yes, he is. I'm just covering for him
while he's away at his brother's funeral.

That still doesn't explain
what you're doing here.

Perhaps you'd better explain
that to the sheriff. No, please.

I don't think there's
any sense in going to the

police about this, unless
we absolutely have to.

Look, according
to the police report,

Sister Emily died of a
massive overdose of Metolital...

The same medication I
left with her yesterday.

I know. As last physician
of record, I checked.

I still don't see what you're doing
here. What I failed to check was...

Dr. Hart's medical records
on the strength of the pills.

You see, I simply
called in the prescription

Sister Emily gave
me over the phone.

You mean, it's possible that you may
have prescribed the wrong dosage?

I thought if I could find
the bottle Sister Emily was

reading from, I could confirm
the prescription myself.

Or cover up your mistake? No.

Even if I had upped the
dosage, taking one of those

pills or even three or four
would not have killed her.

But would an autopsy show
the approximate dosage?

Perhaps it would, but no
autopsy's been planned.

That's ridiculous.

Well, it hardly seemed necessary,
Mrs. Fletcher, given the circumstances.

[Scoffs] Forgive me, Bishop, but
the circumstances have changed.

You're absolutely
right, Jessica.

It's the same as all the rest.

This isn't a suicide
note and you know it.

There is room for doubt.

Bishop Shea, Sister Emily
was a devout Catholic.

She deserves burial
in consecrated ground!

There's no reason to
raise your voice. Sorry.

Well, then, if we eliminate
suicide and accidental death,

that leaves us with only
one viable possibility...

That someone
here in the convent...

One of the other nuns—
Committed murder.

But, Bishop Shea, there
are other possibilities.

There's this young
woman, Nancy Bates.

Mrs. Fletcher, with all
due respect to that writer's

imagination of yours,
you are forgetting one fact.

The convent was locked
from dinner until the

police arrived, which
was after Sister Emily died.

Now, how could Mike Phelps, Nancy
Bates, or anybody else for that matter,

have broken in
without leaving a trace?

I admit, I can't answer that.

No, I didn't think you could.

Yet.

Sarah? Oh!

Mrs. Fletcher, you startled me.

Well, I suppose we're all a bit on
edge. We missed you at the reception.

I needed to be by
myself for a while.

As Sister Anne says, sort of pray
things through. Yes, I understand.

Sister Margaret-Mary told me that
you felt the same way last night...

and that you had asked to be
excused from baking the cookies.

Prayer can be very comforting.

Sarah, well, I think it's
very important that we

all try to be as honest
with each other as possible.

What do you mean? I mean,
that you weren't in your room...

and you weren't in the chapel, and to
be honest, no one knows where you were.

Unless you were able to leave here
unobserved to meet Mr. Phelps? No!

Is that what that note
was about, the note

that you dropped when
you were serving us tea?

Did he want to meet you?

Sarah, I know you're
under a terrible strain.

Then why don't
you leave me alone?

[Shouting] Why doesn't
everybody just leave me alone?

Geez, I'm sorry. Are
you all right? Oh, yes, yes.

Oh, it's you. Mr. Phelps, I was hoping to
run into you, but not quite so literally.

Why? You and Mother Superior
run out of things to whisper about?

Look, I can understand your
feeling offended, Mr. Phelps.

I mean, our manners were—
Well, they were quite deplorable.

I just hope you'll
accept my apology.

Yeah. Well, forget it.

I'm used to being talked
about out there anyway.

How else do you think they
got to Sarah? "Got to Sarah?"

Yeah. Brainwashed her into joining
the convent. I mean, we were in love.

We'd talked about headin' off to
Europe, seein' the world, getting married.

And then last night,
she said— Last night?

Mike, please, what
happened last night?

Last night was just
like any other night.

[Mouths Word]

Excuse me. I gotta
get back to work.

Jessica, sorry to interrupt.

Oh, no, no, no, no. My eyes can
do with a break. Is something wrong?

On the contrary, Mrs. Fletcher.

You'll be relieved to know that
things have finally been put to rights.

We have just received the official
Church ruling on Sister Emily's death.

They've termed it "Temporary
insanity leading to inadvertent demise."

That's simply another
way of saying "suicide."

Mrs. Fletcher, the
authorities and the Church,

which includes both myself
and the Mother Superior,

are satisfied the
case is closed.

Good night.

An underground crypt.

[Door Squeaking]

Don't scream. I'm not gonna
hurt you. I'm just gonna leave.

And I want you to stay put till
I'm gone. Do you understand?

Nancy?

It is Nancy Bates, isn't it?

All right, how did
you know who I was?

I saw you at the door arguing
with Sister Paul about Sister Emily.

Yeah. Well, then I guess that makes
me suspect number one, doesn't it?

Oh, come on. I
know what's goin' on.

I heard what they're sayin'. They're
sayin' somebody killed Sister Emily.

Now you catch me here like this, it
doesn't look very good for me, does it?

And did you kill her? No!

Look, I admit that I hated
her for sending me to prison.

But I got a lot of help there.
Probably saved my life.

I tried writing
her to tell her that.

But because of all the
hate mail I'd sent in the

past, I just kept getting
the letters back unopened.

So I figured the minute I'm sprung,
I'll come straight here to see her,

only I wind up getting the
door slammed in my face.

That's when I knew if I wanted to see
her again, I'd have to use the tunnel.

Yes. Yes.

I knew that there had to be
another way into the convent.

But what puzzled me
was that none of the

other sisters seem to
know anything about it.

Easy. It was sealed
right after the Civil War.

Only a couple of wards found
out about it in the '60s and

they had it reopened without
the sisters ever finding out.

It's kinda been our
little secret since.

You know, a kind of matter
of honor among the wards.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid it's
become a matter of murder. Hey, look.

I admit that I was here and
I saw Sister Emily last night.

I got here about 10:00. I was hoping I'd
have a chance to see her alone, and I did.

We talked for
almost half an hour.

Then I even gave her a devotional book
that I'd inscribed to her. But then I left.

So that's why you came back
here tonight—to retrieve the book?

Yes! I was afraid that
if anybody noticed the

date on it, it would
look real bad for me.

I didn't kill her!

I believe you, Nancy. You could
have killed me, and you didn't.

And that's saying something.

Nancy, is there anything else you can
remember about last night? Anything?

Oh, there was one thing.

I didn't really think too much of it
at the time, but when I was leaving,

I thought I heard, like,
a sound from over here.

And I looked. I thought it was a shadow,
you know, maybe like someone hiding.

Is that all you saw? A shadow?

Ah, I'm afraid I'm not
even sure about that.

Well, it could have been Sarah,

or someone else.

I must be overlooking something.

I'm afraid there's not
much here to overlook.

We lead a pretty
austere life here.

You know, Sister Emily had this
same old chipped water pitcher...

ever since I knew her.

Claire, except for Dr. Marshall,

has anyone else been in Sister
Emily's room since she died?

I ordered everything left untouched
until I could see to things myself.

Well, that's very odd. What is?

Sister Emily's other habit.

I know she had it cleaned to wear to
the dedication service, but it's not here.

You don't suppose something else
could be missing, do you? Missing.

Jessica, what are
you looking for?

That photo of Linda Stone.

Mr. Carter said he was gonna
leave it here for her to study.

It's gone.

Oh, are you leaving
so soon, Mr. Carter?

Hey! Miss Fletcher.
How ya doin'?

Never expected to see you again.

I take it that you have
resolved the Linda Stone case.

Fact is, it kinda resolved
itself you might say.

My client called me
up last night and said,

"Hey, Carter, let's drop this thing,
what do ya say? Okay?" I said, "Okay."

I see. Then the
inheritance came through.

[Chuckles] Yeah. Well, I kinda
figured you didn't buy into that story.

Truth is, the only money involved
in this case was my client's.

She sure doesn't want her only son
wasting it on some gold digger, you see.

- You mean, Linda Stone?
- Yeah. Linda Stone, last night,
eloped with another guy,

which, needless to say, made my
client elated, left me unemployed.

And the catfish in Florida— I'm
afraid they got themselves a reprieve.

What made your client suspect
Linda Stone's motives in the first place?

I don't know. You got me there.
Unless— Unless it could be the kid.

- Oh, a child is involved?
- Oh, yeah.

Stone has a 15-year-old
boy from a previous marriage,

supposedly to a soldier
who was killed in Vietnam.

The trouble with that,
Miss Fletcher, is that I can't

find any evidence that this
guy really existed, you see.

All the roads lead right
back here to this convent.

I see. So you're saying
that Linda Stone...

came to the convent 15 years
ago, pregnant and unwed?

She has the baby, and she makes
up a story about a dead husband.

Exactly. That's— At least
that's the way it reads to me.

Well, what the heck. That's water
under the bridge. I gotta catch a train.

And that catfish pond in
Florida I'm gonna get some

day. You wanna come
down, you give me a holler.

Thanks. I've always had a
weakness for catfish. [Chuckles]

Mrs. Fletcher, all you’ve given me
is theory. You can't prove a thing.

But Jessica has a way to get the proof,
Bishop, although it does involve some risk.

Risk? No. Absolutely not. I refuse
to put any of my nuns in danger.

Believe me, Bishop, all Claire
has to do is to set the trap.

If I'm right, I'm sure that
the killer will take the bait,

and then we'll have all
the proof that we need.

Mr. Mayor, all I'm asking...

is that you use your influence to
have the police reopen the case.

Mother Claire,
whatever your theory is,

don't you think it would be
wise to let it stay like that?

I mean, a theory? And no
one likes the smell of a scandal,

least of all the Church.

[Intercom Buzzes] Excuse me.

Yes, Sister Anne?

I'm sorry, Mother, but you have a
call from that private investigator.

Mr. Carter.

Thank you, Sister.

I'm sorry. It won't take long.

Mr. Carter? Forgive my
delay in getting back to you.

I think you'll be glad to know that
we have found some of her files...

tucked away in the archives...

dating back through the time
you believe Linda Stone was here.

Though, unfortunately, I haven't
had time to look through them.

But Mrs. Fletcher has
offered to go through them...

later on tonight to try
and find what you need.

So, shall we say
around noon tomorrow?

[Bell Tolling]

[Bell Continues Tolling]

[Bell Continues Tolling]

Mrs. Simpson, put it down.

You knew it was me.

You knew I was coming.

Yes. But how?

No one saw me
the other night. No.

It was a lot of little things...

Things that added
up only one way.

There was your
tunnel— Your way in.

Only the wards knew
about it. And I remembered,

you told me you'd
grown up in this place.

And then Mother
Claire and I discovered...

something was missing
from Sister Emily's room.

The photograph. God.

Linda's picture.

I spoke to Ray Carter.
He told me all about her.

An unwed mother, an
unknown father. Your husband.

You can't prove that!

You were in the office when Mr. Carter
produced that photo and described Linda.

That doesn't mean—
There's more, I'm afraid.

The water pitcher
was still full.

If Sister Emily had actually
swallowed all those pills,

it would have been
practically empty.

That means the
overdose that killed her...

had to have been injected.

You think you've
got it all figured out,

but you didn't know
what it was like...

coming from nothing,

being shoved from one
foster home to another...

till you finally wind up
here in this crummy convent.

But marrying Albert
Simpson changed all that.

It made me... someone.

And I wasn't about to
let any stupid mistake...

that he made 15 years
ago take all that away.

So you killed the only person...

who might have been able to
expose your husband's secret.

I had to. Albert never
would've done it!

All he did was drive
around all night...

trying to think things through.

I didn't need to think! I
knew exactly what to do.

I hadn't counted on
her having company...

during meditation hour.

But once I knew
that she was alone—

[Chuckles] it all
seemed so easy.

Everyone knew Sister Emily's
been taking Metolital for years.

All I had to do was—

I emptied her pills...
into my—my pocket.

I even remembered to bring
along an old piece of Scripture...

that she'd copied
for me years ago...

to leave as—as a note.

But by then, it was
nearly 11:00, and I...

So, I—I disguised
myself in this habit.

And then I took the
photograph and I left.

It was nearly perfect...

until you started to interfere.

You shouldn't have
done that, Mrs. Fletcher.

That's enough, Mrs. Simpson.

Jessica. Jessica.

It was such a lovely service.

Oh, Sister Emily would
have been pleased.

And it was all
thanks to you. Oh, no.

Oh, yes, it's true.

Though how you knew to look for
that secret tunnel is still beyond me.

Well, you might say that I
followed the way of the cross.

Sarah's Celtic
crucifix, that is.

You see, she was wearing
it when she served us tea.

But then when she discovered
the body, the crucifix was gone.

Then when it turned up
the next day on Mike Phelps,

I knew there had to be
another way into the convent.

I'll never forget what
you've done for us, Jess.

Thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher.

I, uh—I understand that you're
leaving us today. Reluctantly.

I, uh— [Clears Throat]

I realize that we have
had our differences,

but I want to thank you for
having the courage to rush in...

where even—even bishops
sometimes fear to tread.

Bishop Shea, we couldn't have
done it without your blessing.

Well, yes, that's
true, isn't it?

There's one more thing that you can
do for me before you go. Oh, what's that?

Try to impress on your
dear old friend here...

the obligation of obedience.

She is a troublemaker, you know.

Bishop, I'm afraid
that is your problem,

and a delightful one you're going to
have to deal with for a long, long time.

[Chuckles]