All language subtitles for Murder She Wrote S03E09 Obituary for a Dead Anchor 1080p BluRay FLAC2 0 H 264-NTb_Subtitles_3

You're a dead man.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Sure was a good idea of yours,
Jessica, this TV exposure.

Well, honestly,
I didn't originate it.

Will you kindly get your equipment
out of my flower beds?

Scrutiny is a hit for one reason,
and you're lookin' at him.

He was a credit to his profession.

He was a lowdown, two-timing snake.

It might be healthy for you to
get out of town for awhile.

That big fellow you saw,
he could be dangerous.

You there! Hold it!

Ronald Ross.

Yours is acknowledged to
be one of the finest

private collections of abstract
expressionism in the country.

Quite obviously, you're not
one of those gentlemen

who, uh, knows what he likes,

but doesn't know anything about art.

Well, actually, Kevin,
I have a degree in art.

Oh, and now you're, um,
what, an entrepreneur?

Whatever that means.

In your case, doesn't that mean the...

selling of illegal drugs
smuggled in from South America?

[Ronald on TV] Someone's been
putting you on, Mr. Keats.

I'm a legitimate businessman

[Kevin] Successful businessman,

I'll grant you that but not legitimate.

Isn't your primary commodity cocaine?

Oh, come on.

You were in Miami two weeks
ago. True or false?

I had a business meeting.

With a gentleman by the
name of Jose Amaldo.

Lousy creep.
How'd he know that?

[Kevin] Jose Amaldo, who is
shown in these candid photos,

has been named seventeen times as
a major narcotics distributor

by the House Committee Report
on drugs and organized crime.

This wasn't your first
meeting, was it, Mr. Ross?

I can't tell you how disappointed I am,
Mr. Keats,

because I love to show
off my art collection.

Well, Mr. Ross may hope it ends there,

but I've been promised new
and revealing information

which you can see next week

right here on Scrutiny, part two

in the "Profile of an Art Lover."

You're a dead man.

Good night, Nick.

Good night.

And good night, Paula.

Good night, America.

[Jessica] Oh,
I enjoy your show, Miss Roman.

I'm just not sure that I want to
expose myself to one of those, uh,

soul-baring interviews.

Oh, no. That's Kevin Keats's department.

Mine are the down-home features.

And I would love to show
America J.B. Fletcher's Cabot Cove.

Oh, dear, don't you think that
sounds a little pretentious?

No, not at all.

What I have in mind is a
very gentle portrait

of a small
New England town,

as seen through the eyes of
one of its leading citizens.

Mrs. Fletcher, please.

I really went to bat for this,

and you've always been
very special to me.

Well, all right. I...

I'll bring it up at the town meeting,

and if the town decides they want
to pose for a video portrait,

well, I'll do my part.

Oh, good. I've never been
turned down by a town yet.

Oh, really?
Thank you.

I know you've got a lot of work to do,

so I'm going to make this short.

Despite rumors to the contrary, the
network isn't at all discouraged

by the way things are going.

Why should they be?

We're consistently
winning our time slot.

We're still in the top 20.

That's not number one.

[Nick] It's not 65 either.

Are they really that worried
about our ratings?

Well, there is the matter of
the new audience survey.

Doug, you remember our conversation?

Richard, I don't need this pressure when
I'm trying to put a show together.

Pressure? Listen, buddy-boy, you
don't know what pressure is.

You're only the producer here, remember?

Well, nobody forced you to be vice
president in charge of the news.

Somebody had to do it.

You could have suggested they
give the job to a newsman.

Here. Here.
"Newsperson," please.

[Richard] Look, look, look. You guys have
no idea the heat that I take for you...

Richard, will you get out
of here and let us work?

Doug, don't make me look
bad on the top floor.

I don't have to make you look bad.

You're able to do that all by yourself.

Well, now that we've all
had a little laugh

at the expense of the enemy,

what do you think of
Paula's Cabot Cove idea?

I think it's brilliant. It'll
make a great Americana segment.

Thank you.

Only you're not doing it. I've
got something else for you.

A Nebraska high school boy's been
accepted on the girls' basketball team.

Ought to be a lot of good stuff there.

Oh, sure. This is very funny.

Now, please. Let's talk
about my Cabot Cove piece.

I'm giving it to Kevin.

What?

I want you there tomorrow.

You've gotta be out of your mind, pal.

I mean, I'm prepping part two
of the Ron Ross exposé.

Uh, well, there's not
going to be a part two.

The legal department killed it.

That stinks, Doug.

The sweet smell of sup-press.

In view of the death threats
you've received, Kevin,

it might be healthy for you to
get out of town for awhile.

What death threats?

Cranks. What else, you know?

Don't you worry about
your Cabot Cove gig.

I have no intention of drowning
in the backwaters of Maine.

Check your contracts.
You have a choice.

Either take the assignment
or go off salary.

On the other hand, I've always
loved the smell of sea air.

I hope the tide's in.

Jessica.
Oh, good morning, Wylie.

Here, let me help you with
that. Oh, thanks a lot.

Well, it looks like you
bought out the whole store.

Oh, I just got a few things.

Uh-huh.
Good morning.

Including a new outfit
to wear on television?

It's one of the symptoms.

Oh, is it going around?
Lots of foolishness.

Everything shined up,

everybody's wearin' their Easter duds.

I even saw Nils Anderson

slappin' on a fresh coat of paint.

Well, I don't see anything
foolish about that.

How nice does a live bait
stand have to look?

It's getting out of hand,
Jessica, this TV business.

Well, they took a vote
at the town meeting,

and everybody voted "Aye."

All except one sorehead
that I could name.

Mm-hmm, Seth Hazlett.

And you notice he's not
here for the festivities.

Where is Seth?
I haven't seen him.

Had a sudden yen to visit his
sister in South Carolina.

Stuck me with all his
patients till next Tuesday.

Jessica!

Uh, hold up there!

Been tryin' to get you on
the phone all morning.

Uh, when are those TV people
coming in from New York?

Oh, they'll be here sometime today.

Couldn't be more specific, could ya'?

Thinkin' about organizin' a
little, uh, welcomin' ceremony.

Oh, well, I don't think that anything
special is called for, Sam.

I mean, they're just coming
to town to do a job.

Oh, they'll do a job all
right, on Cabot Cove.

Have you ever seen that show?

Yep, and so has the rest
of the country, Doctor.

Good publicity means summer visitors.
More trade for the merchants.

Sure was a good idea of yours,
Jessica, this TV exposure.

Well, honestly,
I didn't originate it.

I believe in giving credit
where credit is due.

Well, gotta see to my haircut.
Want to look good for camera.

[Jessica] You're wrong, Wylie.

Paula Roman loves this
town as much as I do.

And she told me that this segment

is going to be like a
beautiful postcard.

Oh?
And I believe her.

Mmm. I just hope the rest of the country

doesn't become so entranced

that they come racin' up here in
their trailers and campers and...

Vans.

Over here.

No, lift it more this way.

Good Lord! MAN 1:
Where's the electrician?

Who's gonna get the dolly?
I'll get the coffee.

Hey,
Mike. Bring the dolly, will ya'?

Young man? Will you kindly
get your equipment

out of my flower beds?

Move it, please! Now.
Who's in charge here?

Uh, Mrs. Fletcher?
[Jessica] Yes.

I'm Kevin Keats.
Oh, how do you do?

Well, uh, where's Miss Roman?

Uh, Paula's been reassigned.
I'll be handling this segment.

You?

Oh, oh, uh, I thought...

You see, Miss Roman assured me that
this was not going to be, uh...

Well...
Certain kind of interview.

Is this the way you always look?

Why? Is there anything wrong
with the way I look?

No. It's just that my image of
you is, uh, more homespun.

Oh.

[Kevin] World-famous author, highly
intelligent and sophisticated.

It makes you wonder,
J.B. Fletcher,

how you came to be buried in a
tiny town in the back of Maine

with people who are,
if you'll forgive me,

hardly your intellectual equals...

Uh, let's stop right now,
Mr. Keats.

I'm sorry, but I really can't allow you

to insult my friends and my home.

Uh, look, if this is what you're after,

then you'll have to leave
me out of it. I'm sorry.

Now I know who the real tough
guy is in this twosome.

Forgive me.
Can we start again?

Yes, of course.

[Kevin] Jessica Beatrice
Fletcher. J.B. Fletcher,

writer of best-selling mystery novels,

world traveler...

You could live almost
anywhere in the world.

Why choose
Cabot Cove, Maine?

Well, my roots are here,

and I've spent many happy years
with my late husband here.

A sentimental attachment?

Oh, much more than that.

I mean, I'm in touch with the
rest of the world, but, uh...

Well, I can be apart from
it when I need to be.

I mean, take my house, for instance.

Frank and I bought that
drafty, old place

about 30 years ago,

and I hung the pictures, and I
planted all the little plants,

and I learned how to put
up the storm windows-

But it's still drafty, you understand?

And this is where
Frank died, and, uh...

and where
I began a new life.

I don't think I've ever really
thought of living anywhere else.

Is it always this quiet?

On a good day, you can hear the
wind, the ocean and the seagulls.

Mrs. Fletcher!

And which is that?

The darndest thing just happened.

Uh, Amos,
Sheriff Amos Tupper.

How do. I just picked up my new suit,

the one I bought for
the television show,

and I was sort of gettin' the
feel of it behind the wheel,

and I looked up, and I saw this
helicopter set down on the bluffs.

Hey, cut it!

Do you mind? I'm trying to
talk to Mrs. Fletcher.

Anyhow, this great big
bald-headed fella,

he gets out, and there's

this long limousine just waitin' there

to whisk him into town.

I'll bet ya anything he's
one of those TV fellas.

You say this fella was,
uh, big and bald?

Yeah, about 6' 3."
Say, who is this nosy parker?

Uh, Amos, this is Kevin Keats.

Keat... Keats? Oh.

Oh, well, sir, you look
a lot taller on TV.

Amos, you just walked into the
middle of a TV interview.

That so?

Oh, uh,
I hope that that wasn't...

Oh, no, no,
I had them cut it. Oh.

In any case,
Mrs. Fletcher,

your nose is a little shiny.

Uh, makeup. Hair.

You take your time now.
Don't rush it, huh?

Thank you.

Sheriff, could I talk to you? Mm-hmm.

That big fellow you saw arriving...

If it's who I think it is,
he could be dangerous.

Dangerous?

I may need your help
getting away from him.

No need, sir.
I'll just have him picked up.

On what charge?
Suspicion of being ugly?

I'd prefer to handle it my
own way, if you don't mind.

Could you arrange to have a boat for
me by sunrise tomorrow morning?

A boat?
Yeah. Not too small,

but something
I can handle by myself.

Sure. I'll take care of
it personally. Thanks.

Hill House.

Uh, Mr. Keats?

Telephone for you.

It's a lady. You can take
it here at the desk.

Thanks.

Uh, for your information, the, uh,

hotel was once featured in
the National Geographic.

It photographs like a million
dollars inside and out.

If you'd care to set up your
cameras, why, you could take...

Excuse me.

Hello.

Hello, you monster.

Judith, is that you?

I know what you're doing, Kevin.

Do you understand?
I know what you're up to.

It's not your business anymore,
Judith. Don't intrude in my life.

You really should learn the difference
between an intrusion and a warning.

Don't threaten me.

Don't ever threaten me.

Kevin. Hold on.
We've got to talk.

I have more important things to do
than waste time with you, Helman.

Hey, hey.
Now, now.

Come on.

Putting you on this story was a
change of pace. A fresh approach.

Don't take it personally.

Oh, but I do.

Scrutiny's a hit for one reason,
and you're lookin' at him.

They toss out producers like
so many empty beer cans,

but I keep rolling along.

So you get off my back before
I do something you'll regret.

Mornin'.
Morning, Sheriff.

Well, there she is.
Not much to look at,

but Augie Wilkins swears she's yar.

Yar?

Easy to handle.

Oh, yeah. Well, I'm sure
she'll do just fine, Sheriff.

Augie Wilkins wanted a
hundred dollar deposit.

Paid for it out of my own pocket.

Well, I can't thank you enough.

Mr. Keats?

Yeah?

We haven't talked about
the rental fee yet.

Right.

And there's my hundred dollars.

You there! Hold it!

I know it's early, but I
thought you'd like to hear

there's nothing to worry about.

The matter has resolved itself.

You're a little late.
I've already heard it live

from Paula Roman on the scene.

[Paula on TV] Let me
understand this, Sheriff.

You were waiting here for
Kevin Keats at daybreak. Why?

Mr. Keats asked me to
rent a boat for him.

You rented the boat?

[Amos] Yes, ma'am. At his request.

Sort of an unofficial favor.

[Paula] And you are certain
that the explosion

was not caused by leaking fuel?

[Amos] Oh, no, ma'am.
It was a bomb, all right.

[Paula] Has any evidence been recovered?

[Amos] Not yet, ma'am,

but I've got divers searching.

Uh, excuse me, Sheriff, but I think

your deputy wants to talk with you.

What is it, Charlie? Sheriff, they
just recovered a body from the water.

It doesn't look like it'll
be easy to identify.

Excuse me, ma'am.
Yes.

Uh, this has been a special report,
live from Cabot Cove, Maine,

the scene of the tragic and mysterious
death of anchorman Kevin Keats.

Please stay tuned to this station
for any new developments.

I'm Paula Roman.

I don't like this, Jessica.
Not one bit.

Paula, are you all right?

Aside from being somewhat shattered,

I guess I'm just exhausted.

I caught that first morning flight
out of New York, you know.

Uh, I'm staying at the
hotel if you need a ride.

Please.
Okay.

Miss Roman, may I express my condolences
on the loss of your colleague.

Yes, thank you, uh, Mr...

I'm George Fish, and it's
an honor to meet you.

Thank you.

George manages the hotel.
Oh.

The TV folks have set up an office
in the private dining room.

It's this way.

A terrible tragedy, and
it's so hard to believe.

Why, only last night poor
Mr. Keats was saying

how this hotel would photograph
like a million dollars.

Mrs. Fletcher! The darndest
thing just happened.

[Nick] Great.

We'll keep the sheriff in 'cause
he's part of the story. All right?

Nick.

Oh. Yeah, I know, kid,
I know.

I didn't expect to see you.
I'm so glad you're here.

Oh, uh, Jessica, this is Nick Brody.

Jessica Fletcher.
Well, how do you do?

Oh, a pleasure.

Like the rest of America, I've been
a fan of Nick Brody and the news.

You're very kind. I guess I am
kind of a... An institution.

Something like the Staten Island Ferry.

Where's Doug? Uh,
Doug Helman, he's our producer.

Nobody seems to know.
He checked in last night,

then left early this morning.

And nobody's seen him since. He hasn't
even called to pick up his messages.

He's probably off climbing
a mountain somewhere.

Well, kid, are you ready to go to work?

The network wants me
to fill in for Doug.

They want a special on Kevin
in the Scrutiny time slot.

Oh, Nick.

Hey, hey. Kid, that's the
way it is, like it or not.

It's news, and that's what we peddle.

Why don't you grab some coffee?

I'm going to take another
look at this tape.

[Kevin] Sorry. Now I know who the
real tough guy is in this twosome.

[Jessica] I'll take mine black, please.

Jessica,

I noticed a strange look on your
face down at the waterfront

when I told you that I flew in
from New York this morning.

With the amount of traveling that I do,

I know the schedules by heart.

You were on the air a half-hour
before the first flight

from New York landed in Portland.

I'm such a terrible liar. I don't know
what I'm doing in this business.

I flew in last night with Doug Helman.

It just seemed a lot easier to lie,
and not because I murdered Kevin.

Because you spent the night with him?

How did you know that?

You didn't recognize the hotel manager,

which means that you didn't check
into your own room last night.

George Fish is always on hand
to welcome celebrities.

Kevin has been trying to
reach a divorce agreement

with his wife who lives in California,

and he didn't want to
complicate matters.

He told me that she phoned last night.

She heard somehow that I was here,

and she threatened him.

Maybe she did more than just threaten.

From California?
[Nick] Hey, kid.

I've got a call in to Dickie
Abbott at the network.

Pick up the phone, will ya,

and tell him what's going on up here?

Oh, Nick, you're beginning
to sound like a producer.

Oh, it's worse than that. I'm
beginning to think like one.

Yeah. Brody.

Come again?

What is this, a conspiracy?

Now Abbott's disappeared.

He left his New York office last
night, and nobody's seen him since.

What a helluva way to run a network.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy is
where Kevin Keats met his end.

Urbane, hard-nosed, a
legend in his own time,

a man who faced death a hundred times
in hot spots all around the world,

Keats was blown to bits
in a jerkwater village

where even the crickets die of boredom,

where the part-time mayor conducts
town business from a 5x5 room

in the back of his office,

and the sheriff is responsible for
supplying the boat that caused his death.

George, now I insist on seeing
Miss Roman this very minute.

Clara, keep your dress on. This is
not the annual church social, dear.

I've got some real reporters here.

Lady, do you mind? I'm
trying to get a room here.

You got any messages for
me? Fowler, 231. Fowler.

Sam? Sam, what are you doing?

Funny, Jessica,
I was about to ask you the same thing.

You got any idea what's
goin' on in this town?

You can't turn around without
some fool photographer

flashin' a camera in your face.

Sam, when a celebrity is
killed, you have to expect...

This is all your doin'. You
and your publicity seekin'.

Now just one moment, Sam.
You talked us into

lettin' them
TV cameras into town,

and-and now we're the
laughingstock of the country.

Me, Amos Tupper, the lot
of us. I won't have it.

Yes, but what's going
on is not my fault.

Not the way I see it or
anybody else either.

Well, what do you expect
me to do about it?

I mean, as long as the
murder remains unsolved,

the media are going to
hang around. Sam...

Then get it solved.

Find out what happened, Jessica,
and get 'em the hell outta here.

Your mess.
You clean it up.

Mr. Fish?

Hill House?

George, this is
Jessica Fletcher.

I don't think I care to talk
to you right now, ma'am.

Look, George, if you want to get rid of
the mob that is cluttering up the lobby,

please help me.

Last evening, I understand that
Mr. Keats's wife called him.

Could you tell me the time and
the number in California

that she was calling from?

The time was about 7:00,

but, uh, she wasn't
callin' from California.

Left a local number.

Local?
555-8901.

That's the Idle Hour Motel
up near the interstate.

Thank you.

Now, Sheriff, this big bald man.

You're sure you'd recognize
him if you saw him again?

A big ugly fella like that?

That's not a face one's
likely to forget.

Okay, let's take a look.

[Ross on TV] Because I love to
show off my art collection.

Oh, that's him!

That's the fella I saw
runnin' from the boat.

Run it back.

Freeze it.

Well, I think we've just got us a
sensational ending for our special.

More than that,
I hope.

Mr. Ross may hope it ends there,
but I've been promised...

The world lost a great man,
Miss Roman.

He was a credit to his profession.

He was a lowdown, two-timing snake.

I really can't think of anything
good to say about him,

living or dead.

Well, 3,000 miles is an awfully long way

to travel to vent your wrath,
Mrs. Keats.

Surely, you could have
called him from home.

I thought if we sat down and talked,

maybe things could be better between us.

What made you change your mind?

When my taxi pulled up to the hotel,

I saw Kevin and Paula Roman...

leaving together,

and the way he looked at her...

Why didn't you go back home?

What? And duck a good fight?

I wanted him to know how I felt.

And then when he finally took my calls,

he didn't want to listen.

Then you didn't actually meet
or talk with him at all.

Look, I didn't kill him

if that's what you're getting at.

I wanted him alive in a courtroom,

where I could watch his face

while my lawyer carved up his assets.

Well, now that he's dead,

I suppose you'll get it all.

I can see how that would
be considered a motive.

Is there a Mrs. Fletcher here?

Excuse me.

Thank you. Hello?

Jessica?

Wylie?
How did you know where I...

George Fish. You're not the
only detective in town.

Is Mrs. Keats there?

Yes.
Would you do me a favor?

Ask her how many toes her husband had?

Uh-huh. Uh, Mrs. Keats...

Toes?

It's important.

Uh, Mrs. Keats,

how many toes did your husband have?

Well,10. Doesn't everyone?

Wylie...
Unless she said eight,

the fella I've got lyin'
here on the table

is not the late Kevin Keats.

[Amos] Aw, now, doggone it,
Doc, that's impossible.

I saw Kevin Keats get on that boat.

[Wylie] That may be,

but the man whose remains
were fished out of the bay

had only three toes on his left foot.

Meaning that he was injured
in the explosion?

No. The other two were removed
surgically some time ago

by surgical amputation.

Okay, now, hold it.
I want to get this down.

Now which two were they?

Both phalanges of the third
and fourth pedal digits.

I've already called
Seth at his sister's.

I figured if anyone in town
were missing toes, he'd know.

And?

No one he ever treated.

Which means that we're
dealing with a stranger.

And we've got a whole lot of
those in town these days.

[Jessica] I've got another
one for you. Hmm?

If the dead man isn't Kevin Keats,

then where is Kevin Keats?

Mayor Booth, how does it feel

having a killer running
loose in your community?

You say there's a killer here.

It's my feelin' he's long gone by now.

Certainly not one of my
neighbors. Outsider for sure.

And what is
Sheriff Tupper doing about it?

Has he requested help
from the state police?

No need. Us Cabot Covers can
handle our own problems.

Be a lot easier without strangers
and outsiders buttin' in.

I can tell you that.

Has Sheriff Tupper explained
to your satisfaction

how a bomb got aboard a boat
that he leased to the victim?

[Sam] Lady, just point that contraption
in somebody else's direction!

Where the...

Where have you been?

I didn't know
I was lost.

When your office doesn't know
where you are, you are lost.

Nick, look, you are sitting on
the hottest story of the year.

Now the ratings on this are going
to shoot through the roof.

The network is going all out on promos.

So, please, Nick, give me a
show to go with that hype.

Listen, while you've been playing
The Little Man Who Wasn't There,

we've been working our butts off here.

And without Doug Helman, the
indispensable producer.

You don't suppose that Doug killed
Kevin and then split, do you?

My money was on you.

I'm afraid you're both wrong.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, Richard Abbott.

What was that enigmatic remark?

Have they caught the killer now?

No, but Kevin Keats, apparently,
is very much alive.

You've got to be kidding.
No.

[Nick] If it wasn't
Keats they fished out

of the drink, just who was it?

Remember earlier we were talking
about Mr. Helman's absence,

and you joked that he was probably
off somewhere climbing a mountain?

On the coast of Maine?

Mountain climbing, frostbite...

The body that was fished
out of the harbor

had two toes missing on his left foot.

Doug...

That's crazy.

That's unbelievable, unbelievable.

What a segment.

"Keats thought dead.
Keats not dead."

"Producer dies in mysterious explosion."

You got a real twist there.

Guys, this is gonna be better

than the secret of Al Capone's vaults.

Brody, I want you on this right away.

I want a reedit and
rewrite by Wednesday.

And I want Paula in on this.
Where is Paula?

I'm here.

So it was Doug that was killed.

Hey, kid, we need some changes and fast.

I don't feel like changing.
I need help. Can we talk?

Paula, Paula, we've got
a story to get out.

Not now.

Listen,
Helman didn't even want you up here.

The only reason you came is
because Kevin insisted.

Now come on.
Now let's get to work.

Let go of me, Nick.

You know where Kevin is, don't
you? You've spoken to him?

Yes, but how did you know?
Paula, you trust me.

Who would Kevin trust?

Oh, Jessica,

I couldn't believe it
when he called my room.

He had to keep telling me over and
over that I wasn't dreaming.

I was laughing and crying
just like a schoolgirl.

He's going to call back tonight.

When he calls, tell him
that he must come forward

and explain what happened on that boat.

If he stays in hiding, it could
be too easily misinterpreted.

He's hiding because someone
tried to kill him.

He was lucky to escape.

Look, the town is
swarming with reporters,

but I could arrange for the sheriff
to come to my house this evening,

say, after dark?

All right.

If only Doug hadn't taken
me off my assignment.

That's when it began.

That was a ridiculous
meeting in Doug's office.

Well, then if that's when it began,

I want to hear about it.
Everything.

[Amos] Then you admit that
Mr. Helman forced you

to come to Cabot Cove for this
assignment against your will?

No, that was a put-on, an act.

Doug and I thought it up together.

I was sure my death threats
were tied in with the pressure

being put on the network

for me to drop the story about
my drug-dealing art collector.

So we thought we'd take the heat off

by pretending to drop the story

and reassigning me to Cabot Cove.

Why Cabot Cove?
Why not go to Nebraska

and cover a boy on a
girls' basketball team?

That'd be fine except for one thing.

We had a secret witness hiding
nearby here in New Hampshire,

who had agreed to talk to me
and only me about Ron Ross

and some of his other South
American drug connections.

New Hampshire?

Two hours by car.

Uh, but you didn't take a car.
You took a boat.

That was supposed to be my cover.

Oh, I see. You wanted everyone to
believe that you were on a boat

in the middle of the harbor,

whereas you were really on
your way to New Hampshire.

Exactly.

You know, I really meant to
finish our interview first,

but then along came the sheriff here

and forced me to accelerate my plan.

When'd I do that?

Uh, Amos,
I think it was

when you described the big fella
getting off the helicopter.

Oh.

Gerald Foster.
Ron Ross's enforcer.

With him in town,
I had to disappear.

That's when I asked the
sheriff for the boat.

Augie Wilkins had the only
one in town for rent,

and I couldn't get a hold of
him till around 8:00 at night.

And as soon as I heard from you,
I called Doug in New York

and told him to get up
here on the double.

Now this was the first time
that you formulated your plan?

Mm-hmm.

And then he came up here,
and you staged the fight

in front of the hotel manager.

Exactly.
Just another part of the act.

Ah.

Then Mr. Helman was already on the boat

when you got on board?

Funny, I didn't see him.

You weren't supposed to.

See, you or anybody else watching was
supposed to see me get on the boat,

putt out into the harbor.

What they wouldn't see was
Doug take over the helm

while I slipped over the other
side and swam under the pier.

Mr. Keats,

I was standin' right there

when that boat blew up.

Now, you could've come out of
hidin' and hollered to me,

but you didn't do that.

No. I didn't.

[Amos] No, you disappeared.

Where'd you go?
What did you do?

I'm sorry.
I can't tell you that.

Well, then I'm afraid I don't think
much of your so-called plan.

It wasn't part of my plan
for the boat to blow up

and lose the best friend
I ever had.

I don't know how Ross's man did it,

but that bomb was meant for me.

No, I don't think it
could've been Ross's man.

Sheriff, what are you getting at?

Only that if Ross's man somehow knew

that there was going to be a boat,

he'd know which one, and
where it was going to be,

and I didn't even know that
until 8:00 the night before.

Now did you discuss this with
anyone else besides Mr. Helman?

No.

And I'm certain Doug didn't either.

I mean, we'd agreed between us
to keep our plan a secret.

Well, then Mr. Ross's man
couldn't have known

you were going out on a boat

until he followed you.

Seems to me, he couldn't
have set that bomb.

Do you have any trouble
with that, Mrs. Fletcher?

Actually, Amos...

no.

Well, I have trouble with it, Sheriff.

Kevin didn't kill anyone.

Why do you think he turned himself in?

Maybe because he's a pretty smart fella.

Sorry, ma'am,

but it adds up only one way.

Either Mr. Helman set that
bomb to blow himself up,

or Mr. Keats here did it for him.

Where's the sheriff?

Sheriff, are there any new
developments in the case?

Sorry, fellas.

Has Kevin Keats signed a confession yet?

No statement, fellas.

Has he explained to you where
he was when he disappeared?

I can't talk now!
Amos Tupper.

Miss Polsby.

First of all, I am not one
of the "fellas," hmm?

And secondly, as society editor
of the Cabot Cove Gazette,

I have a right to talk to Kevin Keats.

He's in jail, ma'am, and nobody
from the press gets to see him.

Nobody, period.

Then why was Paula Roman allowed in?

I have been told that she
is in with him now.

Miss Roman is different.
It's personal.

Now if you'll excuse me.

Why is she any different
from the rest of us?

Nice, huh?
All the comforts of home.

I never should have let you
talk me into coming in.

And what were you gonna to do?
Run? With your face?

You're almost as famous
as Ronald McDonald.

I don't suppose there's
a lawyer on the way?

Not yet.

Look, Kevin, you know
what we have out there?

Three networks, two cables,
five independents

and the world press.

As long as you're in here,
you belong to Scrutiny.

Brody wants me locked up?

Only until after this special,

the former Kevin Keats's eulogy.

And the sheriff has even
given his permission

to let you tape your narration in here.

I don't want to tape
my narration in here.

I want outta here!

I'm sorry.

Richard and Nick want you here.

To boost their precious ratings, huh?

Is this how far we've come, babe?

To this? Hmm?

Mrs. Keats?

Oh, hello, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'd ask you to join me, but
I've already finished

my daily consumption.

Besides that,
I have an appointment.

An exclusive interview with
something called Scandal USA.

Oh.
They're paying me a bundle

for the inside scoop
on a lousy marriage.

Well, this won't take long.

When your husband was in hiding,

was he with you?

I wish.
Is that what he told you?

No, but something isn't quite right,

and I'm just trying to
sort it out, that's all.

Sounds to me like Kevin's sorted
himself right into a life sentence.

Oh, well, it doesn't matter.

His career was probably
in the toilet anyway.

Oh?

I think the network was
getting ready to 86 him.

In a fit of paranoia,
the big fellow told me

that they had conducted a
confidential audience research.

Oh, yes. Miss Roman mentioned
something about that.

Miss Roman was always up on things.

And you think that this
survey might have had

an unfavorable effect on your husband?

It's just a guess.

I have been waiting years for
the great American public

to find out what I have known all along.

So long, Mrs. Fletcher.

And if you see my husband,
give him my worst.

[Jessica] Remember me, Mr. Abbott?

I'm Jessica Fletcher I was just
on my way up to your room.

I was just on my way out.
Can this wait till tomorrow?

Uh, obviously you know
about, uh, Kevin Keats

being under arrest?

Uh, yes I do. They should
either charge him with murder

or let him go if they can't prove it.

Well, surely losing your star anchorman

could really hurt you in the ratings?

Oh, so you've heard about
ratings here in Cabot Cove.

Oh, we've heard about a lot of things,

including the network audience survey.

Mrs. Fletcher, that is
supposed to be confidential.

I was hoping that perhaps you
could explain it to me.

Paula said that research is
your area of expertise.

Oh, well, it's really very simple.

You see, uh, the network is always
testing the popularity of its programs

by, uh, sampling its audience.

Aha. Paula seemed to feel
that, uh, you were concerned

about the latest survey.

Really?
Yes.

She also said that you
seemed, well, furtive

when you mentioned it to Doug Helman.

Does that mean you didn't want to
discuss it in front of the others,

perhaps because of
personnel involvement?

Say, one of the three anchors?

Do you read tea leaves too?

Not very well, Mr. Abbott.

If I did, I might be able to
figure out where you were

when your office was
unable to reach you.

Those hours when the bomb was
most likely planted on the boat.

Well, I'm sorry,
Mrs. Fletcher,

but you're gonna have to
forego me as a suspect.

You see, in television land, when
the, uh, canoe springs a leak,

one doesn't bail water. One
just looks for a new canoe.

The morning
Doug Helman was killed,

I was having breakfast, in New York,

with the president of another network.

When I heard the news
on the radio, I, uh,

chartered a jet right
here to Cabot Cove.

I see.

And did you get the job?

At this level, one doesn't,
uh, ask for a job,

one lays the groundwork.

Mmm.

Wonderful air you have up here.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Fletcher.
Good afternoon.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Could you give us a couple of
minutes of your time, please?

It's the front door again.
Reporters.

Oh, they'll go away.

Is anybody in there?
Mrs. Fletcher?

Darn! I didn't see that.

I guess I'm not in the
same class as Seth.

Or the class he thinks he's in.

You know, it's funny.

I moved up here to Cabot Cove
for the peace and quiet.

Ah, it doesn't really bother me.

Check.

Huh?

Bishop to king.
You're one away from mate.

You mind if I, uh, freshen up my coffee?

I thought you were new to this game?

Nope. I merely said I hadn't
been playing as long as Seth.

Who do you think taught me?

I surrender.

Jessica, I know your mind is elsewhere.

Do you want to talk about it?

I just can't stop thinking
about Kevin Keats's story.

That cockeyed plan he made with Helman?

There had to be an easier
way to slip out of town.

Mm-hmm.

I don't remember telling you that.

You didn't.

I overheard you talking to
Sheriff Tupper on the phone.

Wylie, give me a ride down to the jail.

I must be sure.

I must ask you exactly what you
discussed with Mr. Helman

when you called him in New
York the night before the murder.

We covered all that.

I told him about the boat, what
it looked like, where it was.

Uh, I told him about
Ross's enforcer being in town.

What else?

And what did he tell you?

He said he'd catch the night
plane to Portland, uh...

I wanted him to bring Paula.
He was against the idea.

He thought she'd get in the
way, but I talked him into it.

Did Mr. Helman review the
timetable of your plan?

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Doug was nothing if not meticulous.

And were you alone when
you made that call?

Mm-hmm. Yeah, I was in my
room at the Hill House.

Uh-huh. Was he alone?

Well, I don't know, I...

Yes, as a matter of fact, he mentioned
his secretary leaving early.

Anyway, I'm certain Doug would
never discuss our plan

in front of a third party.

What if he didn't know or care

that there was a third party present?

Oh, if you're looking for Paula,
she just called from her room.

I'm not looking for Paula.

Well, I'd love to chat, but I've
got to finish this rewrite.

I'm afraid you'll have to
change the ending too.

Any suggestions?

You might write about a respected
newsman who'd been around so long,

he's become a national institution.

He's one of the hosts of
a prime-time news show

and learns that a fickle audience

prefers the show's bombastic younger man

and attractive young woman.

It's my guess that that's the upshot
of the network audience survey

Doug Helman showed you in his office

when he called you in for a meeting.

You were there

when Kevin Keats called
Doug Helman from Cabot Cove.

Who told you that?
You did.

Listen, Helman didn't
even want you up here.

The only reason you came is
because Kevin insisted.

Now come on, sweetheart.

That subject was only
discussed on the phone

between Kevin Keats and Doug Helman.

Paula must have let it slip.

I just spoke to Paula.

She didn't.

Then Doug told me.
When?

He went straight from his
office to the airport.

Next morning, he was concealed
on the boat before sunrise

and dead a few minutes later.

You had to have heard
that in that office.

Helman told me
I was through.

He said he was sorry but, if he
didn't give in to the network

on the small things,

he wouldn't get anywhere
on the big ones.

You can guess how that made me feel.

The phone rang as I was starting out,

and he turned his back to me.

So you stayed to listen?

I knew he was talking to Kevin.

And I was trying to think of something
that would win Kevin over to my side.

Then I became aware of what
they were getting at,

what they were setting up.

That's when I got the idea.
It just flashed in my head,

very clear and very terrifying

because I knew I'd do it.

How did you get to Cabot Cove?

I drove all night.

It's not that far.
Only 350 miles.

Oh, about the bomb?

Well, you don't get to be a 63-year-old
reporter without learning something.

But what did killing
Mr. Helman solve for you?

He was only following
the network's orders.

Without Helman, I had a
better than even chance

of staying with the show.

I had more experience than any of them.

To hell with the audience research.

So I wasn't young,
vicious or even pretty,

but I was the one who could
talk sense to them.

I'm a newsman.
I'm not a performer.

I tried to tell Doug that.

And whatever he started out believing,

in the end, he bought the idea

that the wrapping paper...
The wrapping paper...

was more important than the package.

If you don't mind,
I'd like to finish this rewrite

while we're waiting for the sheriff.

Just dial nine for an outside line.