All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S04E04.Old.Habits.Die.Hard.1080p.AMZN.DD2.0.x265.HEVC-Bearfish_track3_[eng]

[Jessica] 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]

[cheerful orchestral music]

[bell tolling]

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]

Please, Mike, you have to understand.

I'm sorry, 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 I find you've come back
into this place?

-Mr. Phelps, you must--
-Just stay out of this, sister.

This is all your fault.

God, 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!

[door slams]

[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.

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

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.

You know, I've got a half-finished book

in the typewriter
and a very anxious publisher.

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 that

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.

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," I said,

"they may be just the little people,

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

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 knew.

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, hmm?

I mean, she's a dear thing, but, you know,

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.

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",
has blonde hair, green eyes.

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.

[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 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.

You see, 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

down the Snake River in Idaho.

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 too,

if you had only stopped
climbing that flagpole

when he told you to.

What, and lose the bet? No.

[laughter]

[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.

Oh, 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?

-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?

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?

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?

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?

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.

Oh, 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, of course, 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.

Requiscat in pace.

[spiritual organ music]

[women singing in Latin]

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?

[women 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
that 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.

-Well, then where--
-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.

-Oh, yes, indeed.
-Very perceptive.

We'll have to see if she's all right.

You will excuse us?

Yoo-hoo, Jessica!

Oh, 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.

Oh, you can't be talking murder.

Oh, 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.

Say, look it there.

-Isn't that Professor Dontzig?
-Oh, yes, it is!

And we haven't gotten
his campaign contribution yet.

Yoo-hoo, professor. Hello.

Excuse us, won't you?

Miss Fletcher.

[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?

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.

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 that
they have anything to do with--

Similarity?

But sister Emily's so-called suicide note

was a teaching aid,

something she 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 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 stopped by to give her
a refill on a prescription

she'd called me about.

Oh? I must have misunderstood.

I thought that I was told

that Dr. Hart was her regular physician.

Well, yes, he is.

I'm just covering for him a couple of days

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.

Oh, no, 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 just thought if I could find the bottle

that sister Emily was reading from,

I could confirm the prescription myself.

-Or cover up your mistake?
-No.

Now, look, 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, I think-- 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?

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?

Did 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 creaking]

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 just 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 kind of 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 mean, 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 that
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.

Well, fact is, it kind of 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.

Yeah, well, I kind of 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?

Oh, 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.

[laughs]

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]

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 a-- as a note.

But by then, it was nearly 11:00,

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.

Well, 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 understand that you're leaving us today.

Reluctantly.

I, uh--

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?

Oh, 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]