All language subtitles for Murder She Wrote S01E09 Death Takes a Curtain Call 1080p BluRay FLAC2 0 H 264-NTb_Subtitles_3

In the name of entertainment...
Ban the ballet!

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Our good wishes will be with you always.

First we must go to the federal
authorities and seek asylum.

Look, Ivan, I'm a stage manager
with a troupe of Commies.

I don't know if I'd know
a Russian if I saw one.

The entire ballet is running away,

and I am mired in this insignificant
little speck on the map!

If the KGB find me now, my life is over.

Doggone it, Jess. You're asking a
lot. You're the only one I can ask.

Meanwhile, at the Boston Opera Center,

where a preview performance of the Rostov
Ballet is scheduled for this afternoon,

anticommunist protesters tangled with
police who broke up the demonstration.

Oh, dear.
How about that piece of pie?

Velma Rodecker, one of the protest
leaders, doesn't like what's happening.

It's a free country,
not Communist Russia!

We have a right to be heard!
We don't want Red culture here!

We have a right to be heard!
Ban the ballet!

That is enough to spoil
a man's appetite.

[Velma] Ban the ballet!
Ban the ballet!

The pie?

[Velma] Ban the ballet!
Ban the ballet!

I hope this won't interfere with the
special performance of the ballet today.

I still don't know why you
want to go to Boston

just to watch a bunch of
Russians jumpin' around the stage.

Because Leo Peterson was thoughtful
enough to invite me. How is the pie?

It's delicious, as always.

I'd tell you if it wasn't.
I'm sure you would.

Good afternoon. Welcome to
our special performance.

Mr. Eddington,
Jessica Fletcher.

We met at the New England
Arts Council dinner.

Oh, yes. Of course,
Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm delighted to see you again.
My friend, Leo Peterson.

Mr. Peterson.
How do you do?

Mr. Eddington is the president
of the arts council.

Oh, congratulations.

Rostov Ballet is a good choice.

I'm looking forward to the American debut
of Alexander and Natalia Masurov.

Oh, I do hope the television people won't
be in your way with their cameras.

Really? My goodness,
I feel like a VIP.

Enjoy yourselves.

Curtain in 10 minutes.
Shall we?

Now you tie this off first and
then attach the snub line, okay?

All right.

Um...

So, what's your name?
Irina.

Irina. I like that. Irina.

What part do you play, Irina?
The Sugar Plum Fairy?

Excuse me. I must return.

Now wait a minute, sugarplum.
I've been watching you.

You and I can have some fun together.

It is not allowed. They don't have
to know everything, do they?

If you ever decide to defect,
you just let me know.

I'll show you a real good time.

Let her go.

You are not to associate with
members of this company.

Listen, Berensky. I don't
take orders from the KGB.

I'm telling you personally.
Stay away from that dancer.

Don't threaten me, comrade.
I'll associate with anybody I like.

Natalia! Are you nervous?

Like a pigeon, my heart
is pounding in my chest.

Well, do not be frightened.
America will love you,

just as the world loves you.

You have always been such a
good friend, Irinichka.

Hmm.

Our good wishes will be with you always.

Three minutes!

Oh, I have to go.

Leo, am I mistaken, or have you
seen the Rostov Ballet perform?

Oh, I have indeed.
Many, many years ago.

Ha. Is that why we were favored
with this special invitation?

Perhaps.

Leo...

Shh.

Bravo! Bravo!

Take my warning seriously.
Keep your distance from Irina.

You're a real tough guy, aren't you?

What's the matter? You afraid your dancer's
gonna do some private dancing with me?

Go ahead, Russki. Try it, just
once. Please, just try it.

Open this door!

Open up, Commies!
Are you afraid of the truth?

Excuse me,
Jessica. I'll be right back. Uh, what?

Bravo! Bravo!

Bravo! Bravo!

Alexander and Natalia are not onstage.
Check in their dressing room, quick!

Yes, Major Karzoff.

Wake up, America!

This Russian ballet tour is only an excuse
to bring more Communists into our midst!

Don't be deceived by' treacherous
lies in the name of entertainment!

Ban the ballet!
Russkies go home!

Ban the ballet!

We must go, Jessica. Now.

But the parking lot exit is that
way! No, Jessica. This way.

Major, what happened? Cover the
exits. Close down the theater.

Alexander and Natalia are missing.

Go!

Berensky.

Alexander Masurov?

Get in, Jessica.
I'll explain everything.

You must be Natalia.

It is wonderful to finally
meet you, Uncle.

My dear, dear Natalia.

Jessica, can you forgive me
for involving you in this?

I was so afraid.

A single man at the ballet, with an accent
no less, would be much too conspicuous.

So I asked you to accompany me.

Well, I'm not sure that I understand.

Thank you for helping.

We have been planning this moment
since I was a little girl.

I am so happy it has finally come true.

I'm happy for you, Natalia, but, Leo,
you've got a lot of explaining to do.

Of course. First we must go
to the federal authorities

and ask them to seek asylum
for Natalia and Alexander.

[Jessica] But where did you go
when you left me in the theater?

To the car, of course. I moved it closer, so
that our getaway would proceed more smoothly.

Well, I hate to bring this up,

but by now someone must have
discovered they're missing.

There could be news on the radio.

At the Boston
Opera Center, where only moments ago,

the body of Soviet security
officer, Serge Berensky,

was found stabbed to death

in the dressing room of Alexander and
Natalia Masurov, stars of the Rostov Ballet.

The couple, who disappeared immediately
following today's preview performance,

are being sought for questioning
by local and federal author...

We did not do this terrible
thing. We hurt no one.

We did not return to our dressing
room. We went to musician room.

They only changed their clothes
there. We did not even see Berensky.

I think we should go
directly to the police.

No! The police think Natalia and
Alexander have murdered a KGB officer.

If they're innocent, they've
got nothing to fear!

Nothing but the KGB If they get their
hands on Natalia and Alexander,

they will drag them back to Russia.

Do you suppose they would have a
fair trial there, after that?

Please, Jessica. I know
them better than you do.

Well, if it's a question of
delaying their surrender...

All right, Leo.
Take them back to Cabot Cove.

Find Ethan. I'll telephone him and explain
the situation. And what about you?

Well, I'd like to stay here
and see what I can find out.

I'll catch a bus later.

And you were not aware that Berensky had
not come out of his dressing room?

I wasn't paying any
attention. I was busy.

And just how busy was that?

Look, Ivan, I'm a stage manager
with a troupe of Commies.

Most of 'em don't even understand
English. I gotta keep my eyes on them.

Too bad you didn't keep
your eyes on Berensky.

What can you tell us about him?

Not much, except he was hanging around
all the time, watching the ballerinas.

Particularly a little
cutie-pie named Irina.

Uh, pardon me. Excuse
me, who's in charge?

I am.
I am.

Okay. We'll, uh, get back to you.

Anytime.
Chief Agent O'Farrell, FBI.

Is there something
I can do for you?

Uh, my name is Jessica Fletcher.

I was in the audience this afternoon.

Oh, yes. I remember you.

You were with a very
distinguished-looking gentleman.

Mr. Peterson.
He returned home.

He doesn't have quite the same
fascination for murder that I have.

Fascination? Well, you see,
I write mystery stories.

Really?

Well, you know there is a very excellent
mystery writer named J.B. Fletcher

from your state of Maine.
From Cabot Cove, Maine.

And I thank you. Is it you?
Oh, oh! Oh, I am honored!

Major Anatole Karzoff,
committee for state security.

KGB
Well, if you prefer.

Mrs. Fletcher, unless you have some
relevant knowledge about what happened,

I'm afraid I'm going to
have to ask you to leave.

Not so hasty, Mr. O'Farrell. Mrs. Fletcher
has remarkable powers of deduction.

I would welcome her
observations in this matter.

Well, I would not.

And need I remind you,
Major Karzoff, this is my turf!

I would...

uh, hope... in the spirit of cooperation

in this instance you might
defer to my request, eh?

Suit yourself, Major.

I feel as though
I already know you

from the many hours I have spent
absorbed with your books.

Well, you're very kind, Major.

But I'm only sorry that Russia doesn't
see fit to pay authors royalties.

That is a capitalist invention, my dear.

Come, shall we examine the scene
of the crime? Of course.

My favorite book was the first
one I read of yours...

I was the first to find Berensky.

Facedown, with a jeweled
dagger in his back.

Any suspects?
Yes, only one.

There's no doubt that Alexander
Masurov murdered Berensky.

The dagger was part of his costume.

And what was his motive?
Defection.

As soon as I observed that
Alexander and Natalia

were absent from their curtain call,

I sent Berensky to look for them.

Apparently he found them,
preparing to flee.

There was a struggle with
Natalia. How can you be sure?

Fingernail marks were raked
along Berensky's face.

And while they struggled, Alexander
plunged his dagger into Berensky's back,

killing him instantly.

Well, that is a sound premise.

But surely there are others who
had motive or opportunities?

Even I can think of one.
Oh? And who might that be?

You, Major. As you said, you
were the first on the scene.

Very good, yes.

I agree.
That is my opportunity,

but what about my motive
for killing my own man?

The realization that two of your
country's most famous dancers

were defecting to the West

and the knowledge that nothing
short of murder could prevent it.

Heh! So I killed Berensky in order to
thwart them from seeking asylum, huh?

Excellent, excellent!

You are mistaken, of course, but
it is a brilliant postulation.

Thank you again.

Tell me, my dear lady. Are you planning
to stay in the city this evening?

Well, that wasn't my intention,

but under the circumstances,
I think perhaps I will.

Oh, well, then, m... m... may I
suggest a... a wonderful place?

It's where I'm staying.
I'm sure you'll like it.

Ethan, please trust me.

I'm sure they're innocent.

But until the real murderer is
found, they need someplace to stay.

Jess, do you realize what kind
of deep chowder I'll be in

if I get caught aiding and abetting?

And do you know what will happen
to those young, innocent people

if they are sent back to Russia?

No, and neither do you, not for sure.

Doggone it,
Jess. You're asking a lot. I know.

And you're the only one
I can ask.

All right, all right.
But I'm only doing it for you.

There is no room on my boat
for international politics.

Oh, there's somebody at
the door. Ethan, thanks.

...to take their bows, the
missing stars of the ballet...

Alexander and Natalia Masurov...

...suspects in the murder of Soviet
security agent, Serge Berensky.

[Velma] Wake up, Am...

Uh, forgive me, madam. It's a habit
from my old days with the militia.

Some people were reluctant
to answer the buzzer.

Well, I'm glad I opened the door
before you kicked it down.

Hmm. The lab reports are ready.

I thought you might like to accompany
me to police headquarters, yes?

Yeah.

That's the lot.
Isn't it sad

how a man's whole life can be
reduced to a pile of trinkets?

Now, here's something
interesting, Major.

The victim's handkerchief was found in
his pocket, stained with his own blood.

- What about it?
- [Jessica] Well, it seems to disprove the major's theory

that Berensky was
struggling with Natalia,

and she scratched his face while
Alexander stabbed him in the back.

I don't seem to follow your logic.

She clawed him, and he wiped his
face with his handkerchief.

Then he put it back in his pocket
after he'd been fatally stabbed?

No. Mrs. Fletcher is absolutely correct.

The face-scratching must
have happened earlier.

Does that report mention anything about
fibers snagged onto the watchband?

Green fibers?

Now, that woman who rushed on the stage, she
was wearing a green sweater, wasn't she?

Velma Rodecker.

Where is she now, Sergeant?
She's upstairs in lockup.

See if these fibers match up
with her sweater. Right.

Sergeant, you might examine under her
fingernails while you're at it.

Yes, ma'am.
Uh-huh.

[Karzoff] This investigation could be

valuable material for a new mystery
novel, eh, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, it certainly has
the right ingredients.

Hmph, the murder of a Soviet agent,

coincidental with the disappearance
of two world-famous ballet stars.

Well, please don't leave out the wise
and venerable chief of state security,

who solves the murder

and brings to justice the misguided
betrayers of the homeland.

Ah, but that remains to
be seen, doesn't it?

It's in the final chapter, madam.

Ha, may I offer you a
nightcap? Thank you, no.

I've had an exhausting day. I need a
good night's sleep to clear my mind.

I'd like to take a rain check
though. You have a rain check.

Thank you.
Good night.

Leo was certainly a
fine-looking young man.

Yes.

How much has he told you?

Concerning you? Nothing.

But I did see you deal him a playbill
from the bottom of the deck.

Leo promised me that no one would learn

of my participation in the defection.

If the Russians were to find out,

they would never again allow their dancers
to perform for the arts council.

As far as I know,
Leo has never told anyone.

Tell me, Mr. Eddington.
How did you know Leo?

entre nous, of course?
Oh, of course.

My father was the American officer

who arranged for Leo's defection
from the Russian army

during the fall of
Berlin in World War II.

Leo was then Leonid Petrovich,

a dancer who longed for the artistic
freedom of the United States.

He was just beginning to build
himself a tremendous reputation,

when a tragic accident ended his career.

Accident?
A heavy light fell onstage.

Leo was unable to get out of the way.

Oh, of course.
That explains his limp.

So Leo contacted me just
after I'd announced

the Rostov Ballet was coming to Boston.

He asked me to help in the defection of his
grandniece. Well, how could I refuse?

And aside from inviting him to the
performance, what was your participation?

Nothing very dramatic really.

I was to open a window
in the musicians' room.

And Leo would then bring
a change of clothes

for Natalia and Alexander and he was
to leave the clothes in a locker.

Number 19. I saw the number
scribbled on his playbill.

Yes. And that was it!

Except that when I left the
musicians' room... Yes?

Berensky saw me from the far wings.

I remember because he was
holding a handkerchief

to the side of his face for some reason.

Before he went into the Masurovs'
dressing room? Mmm-hmm.

Mr. Eddington, thank you.
It's been most useful.

I really should be getting
home. Well, let me drive you.

Oh, no, I wouldn't think of it.

I still have time to catch
the last bus to my hotel.

And I know my way around
Boston very well.

Well, the streets are very dangerous at
night, especially for ladies alone.

Oh, I'll be fine, but
thanks for the concern.

Good night.
Good night.

[Jessica] Looking for someone?

Go.

I hope he did not startle you,
Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm afraid
I startled him.

Thank you for the bodyguard,
Major Karzoff.

I wouldn't have dared to
walk the streets alone,

if I hadn't known
Mr. Nagy was following me.

Mmm. It was a wasted exercise
interviewing Mr. Eddington, madam.

The fibers found in Berensky's watchband
match those of Velma Rodecker's sweater,

and traces of Berensky's flesh were found
under her nails, as you suggested.

They've arrested her for the murder?

Yes, and while I have no sympathy
for a neurotic anticommunist,

I regard it as a most
depressing development.

Mornin'.
Ethan Cragg about?

Uh, yup.

I don't believe we've met.

Amos Tupper,
I'm the local sheriff.

Yup.

You must be new around here.
Where ya from? Amos!

Ethan.
Good morning, Amos.

I see you met my new deckhand.

I figured I could use some help the
way the cod's been bitin' lately.

Good idea. You here temporary,
or are you staying awhile?

Nope.

Oh, I think what he means is,

he's gonna stay here for a while
and then he'll be moving on.

Isn't that right, Al?

Yup.

Hey, how about I buy you a cup of
coffee at the inn? Sounds good to me.

Seems like a friendly sort.

A might too gabby for my taste.

Ethan, have you seen any
suspicious-looking characters about?

Suspicious? How?
Different, foreign-like.

You know, Russian?
Russian!

Ju... Yeah, two Russki toe
dancers, a man and a woman.

They ran off from some
Boston ballet. Defectors.

Only they murdered a fella, and
there's a warrant out on 'em.

I don't know if I'd know a
Russian if I saw one. Would you?

Ha! From a country mile away!

[Amos] Well, now, who
do you s'pose that is?

Uh, her?

Oh, uh, that little gal has come to visit
Niels Larsen's family for a spell.

We gonna have the coffee?
Pretty little thing, isn't she?

[Karzoff] Radicals!

So vociferous for the cameras, yet quiet
as church mice under interrogation.

Then, Miss Rodecker still
hasn't made a statement, hmm?

And she is deriving intense pleasure
from her newfound notoriety.

But then, that's exactly what
she wanted, her day in court.

The center of attention.

Make no mistake, she is the killer.

The woman stabbed Berensky

and then ran onto the stage
to cause her disturbance.

But the murder weapon was
Alexander's dagger.

Surely he was using it
onstage at that moment?

nyet, nyet.

You will recall that the wedding
scene occurs in the final act.

The dagger is not worn
in the wedding scene.

It would have remained in the
dressing room throughout the finale.

Oh, I see.

Those girls over there,

they're members of the corps
de ballet aren't they?

[Karzoff] Mmm, yes.

That little one there looks so sad.

Oh, Irina, yes. Yes, yes. She
was Natalia's best friend. Oh.

W-Would you like to meet her? Yes.

Uh, Miss Katska.

Would you come, please?

Mrs. Fletcher, may I present
Miss Irina Katska? How do you do?

Major Karzoff has told me how
close you were to Natalia.

I'm so sorry. I know what
it is to lose a friend.

You are very kind.
Thank you, Irina.

Well, you must forgive me, Major,

but I must catch the next
bus back to Cabot Cove.

So soon? Well, you've
almost solved the crime.

There's no reason for me to stay.

Then it is farewell only,
never, never good-bye.

Farewell then.
Farewell.

Good news, Major. Velma
Rodecker has decided to talk.

Welcome home, Ms. Fletcher.

Why, Sheriff, do you always meet
the bus to welcome people home?

Only the famous ones.

Ethan tells me you hung around Boston

gathering material
concerning that murder.

What did you find out?
It was open-and-shut.

Apparently a protester named Velma
Rodecker murdered the Russian agent.

Have you seen Ethan around?

Oh, he's down at his boat showing
his new hand the ropes.

New hand?
Friendly young fella.

Sounds like he's from up around Bangor.

Ethan!

Oh, there she is.
How ya doin', Jessica?

Ethan, when I asked you to
hide Alexander and Natalia,

this is not at all what I had in mind.

Don't get on your high horse, woman.

What did you want me to do,
stuff 'em in my sea chest?

Amos thinks she's a
Swede from Minnesota.

Well, even so, I'm taking
Natalia home with me right now.

Now where's Leo?
Up to his house, I guess.

Well, then you bring Alexander along
to my place for supper tonight,

and then we've got to make
some new arrangements.

The police department, the
KGB and the FBI

could be down on this
town in any moment.

What for?
They got the murderer.

Velma Rodecker is not the murderer.

[Leo] Aah! Aah!

Ooh, does that smell good!
Leo, will you sit there?

Ethan, you come around here.

And you two, you better
sit side-by-side.

Who in tarnation is that?

Leo! Take Alexander and
Natalia upstairs. Hurry!

I sure am sorry for
disturbin' ya, ma'am,

but I was told Captain
Cragg might be here.

Yes, I'm Ethan Cragg.
What can I do for you?

Well, sir, I just put into the
harbor with a blown oil seal,

and a fella down at the docks said
you might have a spare to sell me.

No, I'm sorry, but you can
probably get one from Gus Harker

over at Rockwater Bay.

Oh, Rockwater Bay, huh?
Shoot.

Ma'am, you s'pose I could use
your phone to call over there

before I start hitchin'
in that direction?

Oh, yes, of course. Come
on inside. Thank you.

Looks like you folks are expecting
company. Well, they are a little late.

You know how much trouble
babies can be, Mr... Uh...

Dewey Johnson. Gus will be
home at this time of night.

Just call the operator.
Thank you, ma'am.

You from Down East,
Mr. Johnson?

No, ma'am. I'm from Maine, born
and bred, up near Bar Harbor.

Well, that's lovely, Bar Harbor.
I'll let you make your phone call.

News is on, Jess.
Come take a look.

...and the disappearance of
two Russian ballet stars

remain a mystery today.

The dancers were first missed when they
did not take their curtain calls,

as shown in this videotape

of the preview performance
of the Rostov Ballet.

All through, ma'am.

Mr. Harker's got that seal, so I
best catch me a ride over there.

Much obliged for your help. Oh,
you're very welcome, I'm sure.

So long.
Good night.

Jessica, has he gone?
He's gone, all right.

But not to Gus
Harker's. What do you mean?

I asked if he was from Down
East. He said, "No, I'm from Maine."

A-ha!

Yes?

Oh. Well, "Down East" is just
another name for Maine.

Anybody from New England
would know that.

That man ain't who he says he is.

Then who is he?
We'll soon find out.

I have a strong suspicion he's
done something to my telephone.

Letitia?
This is Jessica Fletcher.

I'd like you to reach
a number in Boston.

Letitia, hold that call, will you?
There's someone at the door.

Thanks.

Wasn't me doing the pounding,
Ms. Fletcher.

Why, Major Karzoff, what
a pleasant surprise.

Perhaps not,
Mrs. Fletcher. Sheriff?

I'm sorry, Ms. Fletcher, but these fellas
have a warrant to search your house.

My house? Whatever for?

I'll check the kitchen.

Uh, Major, would you care
to explain? Certainly.

I would not dare embarrass you like
this without explaining my action.

I am looking for Natalia
and Alexander Masurov.

We searched Leo Peterson's
house, but no one was there.

And why would the Masurovs be
here or at Mr. Peterson's house,

for that matter?

Velma Rodecker had a very
interesting story to tell.

It seems that after she
struggled with Berensky,

she was forcibly removed
from the theater.

She discovered a window open and entered
to find herself in the musicians' room.

She heard a sound and hid,

and then watched as a man climbed in
through the window with a viola case.

The case contained two costumes.

Miss Rodecker slipped out of the
room, into the backstage area,

where she hid until the curtain call.

Her description of the man sounded
remarkably like your Mr. Peterson.

Right down to his limp.

A quick check with the Soviet
Consulate revealed that

Leo Peterson of Cabot Cove, Maine,

is in truth Leonid Petrovich,
betrayer of his homeland,

and the granduncle of Natalia Masurov.

There's no one in the kitchen. Well,
I could have told you that, Amos.

How did you enjoy the
muffin? Real good, ma'am.

There is no sign of them, Major.

What a shame. You came all
this distance for nothing.

As you can see, the
situation has changed.

Alexander Masurov is once again
the prime murder suspect.

If you should, by some chance,
happen to encounter the Masurovs,

as unlikely as that may be,

please assure them that my government

will provide them with a
fair and just trial.

And then they will be executed.

You can call off your manhunt, Major.

I wish to make a full confession.

Leo, no!

I have no desire to conceal
the truth, Jessica.

I killed Berensky

so that my niece and nephew would
have sufficient time to escape.

They were not aware of my action.

Don't listen to him, Major. It's a
noble gesture, but it's not true.

Obviously.
Arrest him anyway, Sheriff.

He is guilty of obstructing justice.

I hate to do this, Leo.

Amos.

Was that necessary, Major?

Ours is a war of attrition,
Mrs. Fletcher.

That was a warning shot across your bow.

Don't be deceived by my gentle manner,

I beg of you.

Letitia, you can make
that Boston call now.

Stage manager.

Yeah.

Irina!

Yes, this is Irina Katska.

Irina, this is Jessica Fletcher.

We met yesterday at breakfast.

[Irina] Yes, I remember.

Irina, I can't go into detail now,
but Natalia asked me to call you.

Natalia?

She wants you to know that she and
Alexander are safe and in hiding.

You know where they are?

Uh, yes. They're near my
home in Cabot Cove, Maine.

[Irina] Oh, I'm so
grateful they are safe!

[Jessica] Natalia wanted you
to know she's so sorry

she couldn't say good-bye properly.

Well, I... I understand.

Alexander also sends a message.

I'll try to remember the words.

I hope I said it correctly. I
don't know what it means.

It was correct, Mrs. Fletcher.

I understood every word perfectly.

If only I could be there.

Well, perhaps Mr. Fleming
could be of some assistance?

Now here's a possibility.
The old Linderman farmhouse.

Been deserted since '68.
Well, let's go there at once!

Oh, just remembered.

The whole place burned to the ground
last winter, lock, stock and barrel.

You are not being very helpful, Sheriff.

I want to find them and now!

Major, there's no call to raise
your voice. I'm doing my best.

I'm becoming very aware of that.

Sheriff Tupper.
Major, I lost Mrs. Fletcher.

Lost her? In a town the
size of a postage stamp?

Ms. Fletcher give you the slip,
huh? She is a wily one.

It's for you, Major.
For me?

Major Karzoff.

Irina, missing?
Well, find her!

The entire ballet is running away,

and I am mired in this insignificant
little speck on the map!

No, we're here, Major.

Sweetness, this isn't exactly what I meant
when I said I'd show you the sights.

It is not much further. I don't
even know where we're goin'!

To a safe place.
That is all I can say.

If the KGB find me now, my life is over.

Sugarplum, I'm not the
KGB, okay? Trust me.

Please, Mr. Fleming, it
is not much further!

I gotta be nuts.

Fletcher, Fletcher. Isn't that the
name of that busybody dame who, uh...

Hey!

Irina! How nice to see you.
Come in.

And Mr. Fleming. Mrs. Fletcher,
you must help me.

Coming here wasn't my idea.
No, no. It was mine.

Mrs. Fletcher,
Natalia's bravery has encouraged me.

I wish to join her and
Alexander and live in freedom.

Well, I know they'll be
overjoyed to see you.

Now you wait here, and I'll
go make a phone call.

[Fleming] What's wrong with this
phone? Well, that phone isn't bugged.

[Cragg] Hello?

[Jessica] Ethan, take Natalia
and Alexander to your boat.

We'll meet you there.

[Cragg] You sure it's safe?
[Jessica] Positive.

[Cragg] We're on our way.

Flotsam to Sand Castle, over.

Go ahead.

It's going down. Suspects are
en route to Cragg's boat.

Got it.

Are you sure you won't have a
cup of tea? Are you kidding?

I wonder what is keeping
Natalia and Alexander.

Hey, look. Why do I have to hang
around here? Suppose I just split.

Well, it might be safer to wait.
They're watching the house.

Oh, great.

If I hadn't listened to you, I'd be in some
cozy Boston bar getting smashed right now.

Oh, we have company.

Major. Amos, did you forget
to search my fruit cellar?

Come to think of it...
No, Mrs. Fletcher.

My man just reported to me that
you have visitors from Boston.

Ah, Miss Katska, and Mr. Fleming.

Listen, pal, I have nothing to do with
this. And why are you here, Irina?

Perhaps to find your friends,
Natalia and Alexander Masurov?

I do not know.

Do you know the penalty for
shielding a murderer?

Alexander didn't kill anyone!

B-But I... I know who did!
It was him!

Oh, come on!
You're crazy!

No, it's true! He hated
Berensky because of me.

They fought in front of witnesses.

You conniving little Commie.
Just hold it, sonny.

That's very interesting, Irina.

You say Mr. Fleming hated
Mr. Berensky because of you.

Yes. He thought Berensky
and I were lovers.

He wanted me for himself.
He was mad with jealousy.

Aw, come on.
She's crazy!

But Mr. Fleming had no reason to be
jealous of Mr. Berensky, did he?

You are in love with Alexander Masurov.

Incorrect, Mrs. Fletcher.

Irina's affair with Masurov ended
when he became enamored of Natalia.

No! Alexander still loves me!

You tell him, Mrs. Fletcher.

You... You tell him the
message Alexander sent.

I will love you always.

He said that, you hear?
Alexander said that to me.

I'm sorry, Irina. Alexander
didn't send that message.

I only said he did.

Leo gave me the words to tell you.

It was the only way I could get you to
reveal your true feelings for Alexander.

For what possible reason?
Her motive.

It finally dawned on
me last night, Major.

It was the videotape
of the curtain call.

Each time I saw it,
I knew something was wrong.

It lacked symmetry.

There should have been six
ballerinas, three on each side.

But the sides were uneven
because there were only five.

Not only were Natalia and
Alexander missing from the curtain call,

but so was Irina.

I think you sensed they
were going to defect.

When you saw them leave the
stage, you ran after them,

hoping to stop the man you loved
from running out of your life.

But you found their dressing room empty.

Berensky came in, sent by Major Karzoff.

He told you the Masurovs were gone.

But there was still one way to prevent
them from making good their escape,

and in your desperation, you
picked up Alexander's dagger.

Stop!
Stop, please, stop.

I just...
I wanted him back.

I... I didn't think. I didn't
know what I was doing.

Please.

No.

Well, it makes no difference anymore.

Take me back.

Child, Major Karzoff has
no jurisdiction here.

Amos.

Be gentle with her, please.
Yes, ma'am.

I sure will. Now if you'll
just come along, miss.

Well, if no one objects,
I'll just get the hell out of here.

I was about to suggest the same thing,
Mr. Fleming. Good night.

Yeah.

So, J.B. Fletcher has wrapped
up another mystery, eh?

Rather neatly done,
I might say.

Oh, not really. I'm afraid I left poor
Mr. O'Farrell waiting on an empty boat.

But then, of course, he shouldn't
have tapped my phone.

And what about
Natalia and Alexander Masurov?

On their way to Portland, to turn themselves
in as defectors seeking sanctuary.

I thought as much. You could
have tried to stop them.

Well, I, uh, did what I could.

Let them live in peace.

And what about you, Major? Have you
ever thought of living in peace?

As a loyal citizen of the Soviet Union,

I will pretend
I did not hear that.

Tell me, how's the fishing around here?

Marvelous! Do you fish?

Of course! Every chance
I get. Of course.

Maybe you could stay around a few days.

Hmph, a few days.

Unfortunately,

days have a way of growing into years.

So, farewell, my dear Jessica. I
look forward to your next novel.

I'd like to send you a signed copy,

if it won't compromise
you in the Kremlin.

Sometimes, a man likes
to be compromised, eh?