All language subtitles for Murder She Wrote S01E16 Tough Guys Dont Die 1080p BluRay FLAC2 0 H 264-NTb_Subtitles_3

Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote...

He was bird-dogging three
cases, one of which was yours.

And that's why we're all gonna
stay out of Harry McGraw's way.

So Mr. McGraw can try,
sentence and execute him?

Guess we don't have to worry
about him anymore, huh?

I don't know anything about
your murdered detective.

Be sure you clearly
understand our libel laws.

I don't know why this detective's
been digging into our past.

His arm comes up in a certain way,
I know it's gonna be trouble.

Doctor passed away nine years ago.

I tracked his wife, uh,
to a town in California.

She's remarried.
She had nothing to say.

Hold on a second.

Excuse me,
Archie. I got a date. See you tomorrow.

Okay, Alma. Have a good time.

Yeah, um, and the...
Let's see.

The medical examiner is also dead.

The hospital administrator who forged the
admittance forms disappeared in '75.

And get this one. The cop on the
case went nuts six years ago.

Oh, dear. I was afraid
of something like that.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher.

I think that the Danbury Scalpel
Murder is a fine idea for a book.

But face it, the case occurred 25
years ago, and I'm at a dead end.

Well, almost.
Almost?

I may have a lead on a nurse
who was on duty that night.

Uh, Martha Clay.

It means driving down to a small
town in Vermont this weekend.

Anything you can do.

The trouble is, I have two other
cases besides this one, and, uh...

Well, okay, if it's that important.

Thanks very much, Mr. Miles.
I'll wait to hear from you.

Sure thing. Bye-bye.

8:29, Friday the 17th.

Concluded phone report
to client J.B. Fletcher

regarding search for principals involved
in the Danbury Scalpel Murder, and...

Who's there?
Alma, is that you?

Santini.

Oh, yeah. Hi.
How ya doin'?

Yeah? No, I didn't see it.
Hang on.

Yeah, I think this is the
guy that was following me.

What do you know?

Guess we don't have to worry
about him anymore, huh?

Flight 214 from Paris

now arriving at Gate 22.

Well, don't you want
to know about Paris?

Well, all right.
How was Paris?

I think we've struck a deal
with the Duvalier Group

for a French edition.

Ooh, Femininity on the
Champs-Elysées.

That's wonderful.
How did you do it?

You're too young to ask.

I hate to break this to you, but Larry's
set up a press conference at 4:00.

It's sort of a five-year birthday party.

Our anniversary is on Friday.
That's when we'll entertain the press.

Priscilla!

Priss, you look marvelous.

Thank you, Gavin.
What a surprise.

You know Erin Carey, the
magazine's designer?

Yes, of course.
Hi.

Look. We have to talk.

I'll wait in the limo.

Sorry to dampen your homecoming.

I didn't think you drove all the way down
from the university just to say hi.

A week ago, a private detective
came nosing around the campus

asking a lot of questions.

About you, me, our marriage.
What did he learn?

From me? Nothing.

I clipped this out of
yesterday's newspaper.

Oh, my God.

We have to do something.
Do what?

I don't know why this detective's
been digging into our past,

but we have our own lives now, Priss.

I don't want all that dredged up.

Why don't we just wait and see?

How about dinner tonight?
Just for old times' sake.

I have to get back.
Faculty meeting.

Perhaps next time.

Are you looking
for something special?

I assume you have a very good
reason for breaking into my home.

Harry McGraw, Mrs. Fletcher.
You're one of my clients.

Miles ... McGraw.

Oh, I'm sorry,
Mr. McGraw.

I understood that Mr. Miles was
handling my investigation.

Not anymore. Three nights
ago, somebody blew him apart

with a .45 automatic.
Oh, Lord.

He was bird-dogging three
cases, one of which was yours.

Well, surely you don't think
that I-- No, I don't.

But somebody involved with
your case might have.

Mr. McGraw, if you needed information from
me, all you had to do was call and ask.

That's not my style.
So I see.

Well, what makes you think it was
my case that led to his death?

I don't think anything yet. I've
been in Tulsa for the past month,

doing undercover work on an oil field.

Mr. McGraw, I liked
Mr. Miles very much.

If there's anything that
I can do to help--

I don't need or want your
help, Mrs. Fletcher.

As a matter of fact, I'm beginning
to think this Danbury case of yours

is as dead as Al Capone.

He said he might have a lead.
A little town in Vermont.

There was nothing about
that in the files.

It took a lot of guts to face me down
in here, not knowing who I was.

It didn't take any guts
at all, Mr. McGraw.

While I was out, I phoned the sheriff.
He should be along anytime now.

You'll excuse me, but I don't have
time to waste with any hick cop.

We both liked Archie, Mrs. Fletcher,
and I'm gonna balance the books.

You can count on it.

Mrs. Miles?

Please accept my condolences.
I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Your husband was working
on a case for me.

I know who you are,
Mrs. Fletcher.

He was a delightful man.
I liked him very much.

So did I. Excuse me.

Uh, Mrs. Miles,
I'm upset at the thought that I, uh...

that is, that my case might have
led to your husband's death.

I'd like your help. There's
nothing I can tell you.

Well, on the telephone, he mentioned he
had a lead to a little town in Vermont,

but there's nothing in his files.

Perhaps he said something
to you. No. I'm sorry.

Mrs. Miles-- Look,
Mrs. Fletcher. He's dead.

Whatever he was doing died with him.

It doesn't make a bit of difference now.

Hi.
So?

- Well, he's still in there.
- All right. I'll take it from here.

You talk to his wife yet?
Our client?

Yeah.
Yeah. Nice lady.

She's put together like a Steinway.

A little dim upstairs though.

She still loves this guy, even
though he's probably dippin'

in somebody else's hot tub.

Well, I'll see you tomorrow.
Oh, Ray, do me a favor.

Buzz by the Daniels woman's place and
find out what's happening, huh?

Harry, give me a break.
I've been up for 20 hours.

Yeah, all right. Go ahead.
Go home and get some sleep.

8:05, Wednesday.

Surveillance subject Ernest
Santini departs construction shack,

heading north on Saddler Avenue,
driving late model Seville.

Speed moderate. If he knows
I'm huggin' his bumper,

he's keepin' it to himself.

Subject turning into an alley
half block north of Fulton.

Hey. Hey, look!
Take it easy! What--

Ah, come on, fellas.

Mr. Santini asked us to
give you a message, sport.

Harry!

Forget it, Alma.
I'm not in the mood.

I... I don't suppose you saw a doctor.

As soon as we get
Blue Cross, sweetheart.

Listen. Get Ray in here.

I'm gonna nail that Sicilian
bricklayer to the barn door.

Harry, you got company.

She said you were expecting her.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Good morning,
Mr. McGraw.

Oh, dear.
What happened?

I fell off a building. Look.
I'm kinda busy right now.

Well, so am I. I've got my files from
the Danbury Scalpel Murder trial.

I'd like to go through them with you.

Lady, I told you.
That case is a dead-end.

Sure, 25 years ago it sold
a lot of newspapers.

Rich doctor acquitted of hospital
murder by sharp lawyer.

Was he really innocent?
Who cares?

The guy died nine years ago,

along with practically everybody
else connected with the case.

So do me a favor, huh? Just let
it alone, and me alone with it.

I will as soon as I'm satisfied that your
partner's investigation of that case

did not lead to his death.

Remember I told you Archie
was working on three cases?

One of the other two... That's
where I'm gonna find our guy.

Are you sure of that?

Let me spell it out for you.

One, there's a guy named Santini.

He's been cattin' around every night
for about the past six weeks.

Wife smells another broad. Why not?
They've been married almost 20 years.

So last night I'm tailing this Santini,

and I run into three of his pals who
try to use me for a trampoline.

So I see.
But they didn't kill you.

If they'd been responsible for killing
Mr. Miles, they'd hardly hesitate

in eliminating you as well.

What's the other case?

A background investigation on a
dame named Priscilla Daniels.

Oh, yes. The woman who
runs Femininity magazine.

A friend?
No.

But for the past two years, she's been
trying to encourage me to write an article.

Good idea. Do it, and
stay out of my hair.

Mr. McGraw, there's no
reason to be rude.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher. Why
don't you take some advice?

Why don't you devote that boundless energy
of yours to needlepoint or a bridge club?

I tried that. It's precisely the
reason I wrote my first book.

I was bored out of my mind.

Well, I read your first book, and
I was bored out of my mind.

Ah, that's your privilege.
May I look at your file, please?

Why not? You paid for them.
Here. Take 'em with you.

Anything else? Good. Because
I'm kinda busy right now.

Thank you.
Harry-- Oh, excuse me.

It's okay,
Ray. The lady was just leaving.

I'll leave my hotel number with your
secretary, just in case you need me.

Thank you very much.

So, Harry, what happened?

Ray, stuff it.

8:29, Friday the 17th.

Concluded phone report
to client J.B. Fletcher

regarding search for principals involved
in the Danbury Scalpel Murder,

and--

Who's there?
Alma, is that you?

The final moments in the life of
a hell of a cop, Mrs. Fletcher.

And a hell of a guy.
Not very pretty.

No.

Is that all you have,
Lieutenant Starkey?

That tape and what's in this
file? It's not very much.

There wasn't very much to go on.

Forgive me, Lieutenant, but
it was my understanding

that Mr. Miles taught
at the Police Academy,

that he was liked and
respected by everyone.

That's right.

Then may I ask why the
investigation of his death

isn't proceeding more actively?

I'm gonna tell you something,
Mrs. Fletcher,

and if you repeat it outside this
office, I'll deny every word.

Archie Miles was like a father to us.

We didn't just like the guy.
We loved him. All of us.

So, believe me, we want to see
his killer go down permanently.

And that's why we're all gonna
stay out of Harry McGraw's way.

So Mr. McGraw can try,
sentence and execute him?

Well, naturally we'd prefer that
he turn him over to us first.

And if he doesn't?

Well, at least we won't have to
worry about the possibility

of some slick lawyer getting the
dirtbag off on a technicality.

Pardon me, ma'am. Wade Tyler.
Bimini Swimwear, Dallas, Texas.

I'm here to see
Ms. Daniels.

Oh, yes. I believe Mr. King
is expecting you.

Well, ma'am,
I'm used to dealing with

the head honcho, not some office boy.

Well, I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Daniels
is tied up in an important meeting.

Mrs. Fletcher, I can't tell you how
delighted I was by your phone call

after so long a time.

An article by you will be a major coup.

Thank you, Mrs. Daniels.

Jessica-- May I call you
Jessica? Oh, yes, of course.

Please call me Priscilla. Let me
tell you what I have in mind.

A major piece.

Something inspirational,

demonstrating how a woman past 40

can fend off the sharks
infesting the literary waters,

relying solely on her guts and her
sense of identity as a woman.

Well, that sounds very
colorful, but, um...

Actually what I had in mind was
a remembrance of my marriage.

I'm sorry you never knew
Frank. I think you'd have liked him.

He was a kind and loving man

who taught me to value the
small joys of everyday life.

Yes. Well, Jessica,

I'm sure there's a place
for that sort of thing,

but Fem is a now magazine,

aimed at the now woman trying
to cope in a man's world.

Well, please forgive me. I seem
to have wasted your time.

Now, wait. If that's what you
really want to write...

I don't think you'll be disappointed.

Excuse me.

Yes?
Mrs. Daniels,

Davis Randolph is on the line.

He says he must speak to you.
It's quite important.

Tell him I'll have to call him back.

Look. I'm having a celebration
tomorrow evening.

It's our fifth anniversary.
Please, would you come?

I'd love to have you meet everyone.

Oh, how kind.
Thanks. I will.

My secretary will call you with
the details about the party.

Where are you staying?
Oh, the Fillmore.

Priscilla, here's someone
I want you to meet.

Wade Tyler, ma'am. Bimini Swimwear,
Dallas, Texas.

And it sure is a pleasure
to make your acquaintance.

Thank you, Mr. Tyler.
Mrs. Jessica Fletcher.

The mystery gal.
Why, sure!

I must say it's a surprise
findin' you here.

Well, you seem to be a
long way from Texas,

Mr. Taylor.

Tyler. Well, you must
have a lot of business

to discuss, so I'll get out of your way.

Good-bye.

Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Tyler?

Well, I'm here to talk
advertising, Mrs. Daniels.

Advertising worth seven figures that
don't start with no measly "one."

Well, talk like that,

you come right down to my
office and set a spell.

Why, Mr. Tyler, whatever
did you do to your eye?

Oh, just a minor disagreement
about my parentage, ma'am.

Nothin' serious.

How did you get in here? A
two-year-old with a paper clip

could jimmy that lock.

You know, breaking in is a
very bad habit of yours.

Thanks for keepin' your mouth
shut with the Daniels babe.

We're both after the same thing,
Mr. McGraw.

There was no reason for
me to stand in your way.

But you are getting in
my way, Mrs. Fletcher.

You're working on your case.

Priscilla Daniels is my territory.

No. My one aim is to find
out who killed Mr. Miles,

and I intend doing that,

even if I have to camp out in
Priscilla Daniels' hip pocket.

Oh, for heaven's sakes,
I'm beginning to talk like you.

Mrs. Fletcher, leave
Archie's killer to me.

So you can what?
Eliminate him?

When a man's partner gets killed, he's
supposed to do something about it.

Well, surely not murder.
Call it whatever you want.

I'm sorry, but I don't intend to stand
by and let you subvert the law,

even if it means telling Priscilla
Daniels who you really are.

You are trouble.
Thank you.

Come by the office tomorrow.
We'll look over the files... together.

You know, there's nothing here

to say who hired you to conduct
the investigation or why?

We don't know who or why.

Archie accepted a $1,000
retainer, in cash.

Somebody with the initials E.P.F.

Even Alma doesn't know
who the client is.

Yesterday in her office,
Mrs. Daniels received a phone call

from Davis Randolph.

The political finance chairman?

She didn't want to talk in my presence.

You know, the press have been
hinting that she might run

for that senate seat that's
coming free next year.

Yeah. And if she does decide to run,

maybe this E.P.F. wants
some dirt to head her off,

so he hires us to scrape it up.

Harry.
Oh, excuse me.

Hi,
Ray. Have you met Mrs. Fletcher?

No.

Ray Kravitz.
It's a pleasure, ma'am.

How do you do, Mr. Kravitz? I got
some figures on the Santini

company bank accounts.

A lot of cash withdrawals in
the last couple of months.

They total $85,000.

This dame's really got Santini

on a roller coaster.

That's the other case. Oh,
yes, the unfaithful husband.

Harry, we gotta do something
and add another guy to this.

Between the two of us, we haven't been
able to track down Santini's girl.

We gotta get sleep sometime.

Run a check on his charge accounts, Ray.

If that doesn't work,
we'll try another angle.

Yeah, sure. What the hell.
Who needs sleep?

Nice to meet you.

Mr. McGraw, may... may
I make a suggestion?

Why should you stop now?

That tape of
Archie's death...

You know, he gasped something
just as he was shot.

Now, maybe it wasn't just a gasp.
Maybe he was trying to say something.

You know, an audio technician
could analyze the tape.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm not much
for this scientific Shinola.

I mean, all right. Maybe
I'm hung up right now,

but I'm gonna get this guy.

You're just along for the
ride because I dealt you in.

But don't tell me how to operate.

I'll tell you a secret, Jessica.
I'm still in love with the woman.

Always will be.

That's why we've enjoyed
such a marvelous divorce.

Well, I must admit your relationship
with Priscilla is... unique.

Well, I'm wedded to the halls of ivy.

She's totally committed to the magazine.

Careers apart. I'm afraid
there's no in-between.

Funny. I'd heard... Oh, perhaps
it was just a rumor...

that she was thinking of
running for public office.

Really?
First I've heard of it.

Priscilla.
Carter, you old fox.

I thought you were going out of town.

What? And miss this gala
celebration? Not a chance.

Congratulations.
Thank you.

Come over here.
I want you to meet somebody.

Jessica, I'd like you to meet an
old and dear friend of mine,

Judge Carter Lambert.

Oh, yes. The writer.
So nice to meet you.

You can't imagine how much I've
wanted to meet you, Judge Lambert.

Oh, excuse me.
More company. Gavin.

It seems to me I've received a
couple of letters from you.

And several unreturned phone calls.

As defense attorney in the
Danbury Scalpel Murder trial,

you're one of the few people still alive

who can give me some firsthand
insight into that case.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'll tell you what
I told your private detective.

That case is best forgotten.
That's surprising, Judge.

It's one of your best
moments as a trial lawyer.

You secured the acquittal of
a very prominent physician.

While the world whispered
about perjured testimony

and manufactured evidence.

I'm sorry, dear lady. That
chapter of my life is closed.

Let me add this. If you go ahead
with this book of yours,

be sure you clearly
understand our libel laws.

Excuse me.

What was all that about?
Drawn swords?

I'm afraid so. I'm researching
a 25-year-old murder

that the judge was involved with.

He's not happy with the detective
that I hired to contact him.

Priscilla, that detective,

before he died last Friday,
was also investigating you.

Me? Not on my behalf.
For someone else.

Really?
I was wondering,

could he have been hired by someone

who might wish to thwart
your political ambitions?

I'm sorry, Jessica. I don't know
anything about your murdered detective.

And as for politics, any rumors you
may have heard are simply that.

Yes, of course. Just one more thing,
Priscilla.

I merely said the detective died.

I said nothing about murder.

Good morning.
Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, please don't get up,
Mr. Kravitz. Is Mr. McGraw in?

Oh, he's here, but you can't see him.

Oh. Is someone with him?

Uh-uh. He just doesn't
want to be disturbed.

Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid
we've got work to do.

Mrs. Fletcher?

You don't mind if I sleep while
you talk, do you, Mrs. Fletcher?

I thought you might be interested
in knowing who hired you

to investigate
Priscilla Daniels.

Yeah? Who?

Priscilla Daniels.

And what led you to that
brilliant deduction?

Despite transparent pretense to the
contrary, she knew Archie Miles.

So she knew him?

You client wanted to remain anonymous,

so Archie used a code,
the initials E.P.F.

Now, I don't think they
represent a name, Mr. McGraw.

I think they stand for Editor
and Publisher of Femininity.

Mrs. Daniels has political ambitions.

Now, supposing she had
something in her past,

something that she was afraid
might come out in a campaign.

Skeletons in the basement.

So she hires us to find out
how deep they're buried,

figuring if we don't find
'em, nobody else will.

Of course, even if she hired your partner,
it doesn't mean that she killed him.

Unless Archie found the bones, whatever
it was she was tryin' to hide.

Maybe he confronted her with it.

But if he discovered something,
why wasn't it in the file?

Not if he didn't have
time to write it down.

Archie spent a few days in
that little college town

where she was married to that professor.

Maybe he came up with something
that goes way back.

And speaking of way back,
I ran into a new lead last night.

I met somebody who has
something to hide.

The Danbury Scalpel Murder may
not be as dead as we thought.

All right, Jessica.
You track down your lead,

and I'll trace Archie's
footprints around that college.

Maybe one of us will get lucky.

I'd offer you coffee,
Mrs. Fletcher,

but I've already packed
away the coffeemaker.

Oh, I'm fine. Now, you're sure
there's nothing I can do to help?

Oh, thanks, but no. I'll be staying
with my sister in Hartford.

Just till I get my bearings.

Look. I'm sorry about my
rudeness the other day.

Please. I understand.
Believe me.

You asked me about a town in Vermont.

Then Archie did tell you something.

No, but I found this tucked
in his jacket pocket.

"Sudberry, Cargill."

Does it mean anything?
I don't know.

He was tracking down some
woman named Martha Clay.

You know, if someone did kill
Archie because of this,

I'm not doing you any favors
by giving it to you.

Thank you, Mrs. Miles.
I'll be very careful. Promise.

Now, don't you worry
about it, Mrs. Perkins.

You have Roy Brown down at
the garage come look at it,

and we should have it fixed
for you in a jiffy.

Sure. I'll be glad to call him for you.

Yes, ma'am.
And please don't worry.

That's what we're here for. All right.

Good morning.
May I help you?

Miss Cargill?

That's right.
My name is Jessica Fletcher.

I'm a writer, and I'm looking into a story
that happened many, many years ago.

I wondered if you might have known
a woman named Martha Clay.

No. I'm sorry.

She'd be about 60 by now,
perhaps using another name.

I said I don't know her!
And I would appreciate it

if you would just leave me alone!

What's going on here?

Oh, I'm so sorry.
I didn't want to upset her.

I'm researching a story, and
I merely wanted to ask her

a couple of questions.

I'm Milt Sudberry.
Jessica Fletcher.

You'll have to forgive Leora, ma'am. She
just lost both her parents a month ago.

Oh, dear. It'll take her
some time to get over it.

They died in a fire, both of
them. Fine folks, the Cargills.

They ran a nursing home
just outside of town here.

They've been in Sheffield
about 25 years.

They died trying to save the others.
Lots of 'em in beds and wheelchairs.

Oh, I'm very sorry.
This Mrs. Cargill...

Her name wasn't by any
chance Martha, was it?

Matter of fact, it was.
I see.

Well, thank you, Mr. Sudberry.
Mm-hmm.

Thanks very much.
You're welcome.

Judge Lambert!
Mrs. Fletcher.

What a surprise finding
you here. Or is it?

The clerk at your hotel said you
were asking about buses to Vermont.

I put two and two together.

I was afraid you wouldn't
leave this alone.

It's not my nature to leave
things undone, Judge.

So I notice.

All right. I'll drive
you back to Boston.

On the way, I'll tell you the whole story
about Martha Clay and Tom Cargill.

Who exactly is Tom Cargill?

The real killer in the
Danbury Scalpel Murder.

Well, Jessica, dare I ask
if I'm going to see

your version of the Lambert
case on the bestseller list?

The writer in me wants to say yes,

but all things considered,
maybe it's best

if this case remains just as it is...

an unresolved mystery.

You're quite a lady.

Sorry. I forgot. Alma always
flips the lock when she leaves.

I'm glad you're here. Hey,
it's 10:30, Mrs. Fletcher.

You on to something new?

In a way. I think that we can
forget the Danbury Scalpel Murder

as the motive for
Archie Miles' death.

The doctor on the trial was innocent.

The victim was killed by a
man named Tom Cargill.

Now, he happened to be at the hospital
that night visiting his girlfriend,

the floor nurse,
Martha Clay.

Cargill recognized the victim as the man
who'd raped his sister the year before

but was acquitted on a technicality.

The sister committed suicide
a couple of months later.

When Cargill saw the rapist,
something snapped.

He stabbed him with a scalpel.

But circumstantial evidence led
to the arrest of the physician.

Yeah, but how did Judge
Lambert know all this?

Tom Cargill told him.

During the war,
Tom had saved the judge's life.

Lambert found himself in
a terrible quandary.

That's why he wangled himself on
to the physician's defense team

and why he faked the evidence
to get the acquittal.

All's fair? Well, in
this case, perhaps so.

Strange talk for a
straight arrow like you.

Or maybe you got two different
sets of standards.

I mean, it's okay for Cargill
to murder the rapist,

but it's wrong for me to eliminate
the character that killed Archie.

I don't condone murder,
Mr. McGraw. But more to the point,

they are now dead, beyond punishment.

Now, Archie's killer isn't, and
he is still entitled to a trial.

Even if he or she hires
a lawyer like Lambert

who might mess with the
evidence to get an acquittal?

Oh, and speaking of "she,"
I don't suppose you caught

Priscilla Daniels' press conference.

No.

She came on the tube
around 6:00

to deny all rumors that she's
running for any political office.

Really?

McGraw. What?

Yeah, I'll be right over.

What is it?
Ray Kravitz.

He was watching
Santini's place,

and somebody tried to blow him away.

What the hell are you doing
down there? Playing cribbage?

I want a yes or a no, and I want
it now. Call me when you got it.

Ray, you okay?
I'm okay, Harry.

Well, what happened?

I was parked right in front of
Santini's construction office.

Next thing I know, a car
comes down the street,

comes right up in front of me.

A guy gets out. He walks up
to me. I can't see his face.

His headlights are right in my eyes.

His arm comes up in a certain way.
I know it's gonna be trouble.

Just as I duck down, he fires two
shots right through the windshield,

and then he took off.

Could it have been Santini? I was sure
Santini was still in his office.

Well, when we checked it out,

Santini's car was parked outside.

The lights were on inside the office, but
a little rear window was wide open.

Santini could have sneaked out anytime.

Excuse me, Mr. Kravitz. You say you
couldn't see who your attacker was?

I didn't see anything!
Come on, Ray.

Somebody tries to blow you
away, and you go blind?

How big was the guy?

What kind of a car was it?
You must have seen something.

Harry,
I'm tryin' to stay alive. Do you mind?

Starkey. Yeah, Tony.

Are you sure?

All right.

Ballistics just dug two slugs from
a .45 out of Ray's front seat.

They match the slugs that killed Archie.

Yeah. Who didn't know that?

Harry, don't do something stupid.

Is that official or just a
piece of friendly advice?

Both.
Well, you know me, Starkey.

I never shot a rattlesnake
that didn't bite me first.

Don't worry about Harry,
Mrs. Fletcher.

If Santini can be found, he'll find him.

That's what I'm afraid of.

Mr. Kravitz, something is bothering
me. I'd like to recheck those files.

Would you mind taking
me back to the office?

No, ma'am.
I'll call Alma.

Anything you need, she
knows where it is.

She's not here yet.

Which file do you want,
Mrs. Fletcher?

All three.

Do you know what you're lookin' for?

Well, no, not specifically.

Hello, Ray.
Ray, are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Listen. I'm gonna go out and see
if I can catch up with Harry.

You gonna be all right, Mrs. Fletcher?
Oh, I'm fine, Ray. Thank you.

Alma, anything she needs...
Okay. Don't worry, Ray.

How about if I put on some
coffee, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, that would be very nice,
Alma. Thank you.

Alma... You can forget the
coffee for me, Alma.

But, Mrs. Fletcher--
I may be back. I'm not sure.

I didn't know this was going
to be an inquisition.

I'm sorry, Priscilla. I'm trying
to prevent another killing.

I want to know why you changed your mind

about running for political office.

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

Was it something that Mr. Miles
picked up in the investigation

he was conducting on your behalf?

That's absurd.
Please, Priscilla.

There just isn't any time.

Something was ripped out of the
detective agency's files,

and suddenly you decide
not to seek office.

Now, I am sure that there
is some connection.

Have you within the past 24 hours
received a blackmail threat?

Yes, Mrs. Fletcher, she has.

Gavin-- Priscilla, a man
has been murdered.

Besides, none of it will
remain a secret much longer.

All right.

Seventeen years ago,
Priscilla became pregnant with my child.

She was a grad student.
I was a young professor.

I was also married to another woman.

Priscilla chose to have an abortion.
Later, after my divorce, we were married.

But by then it was too late.
Complications associated with the abortion

made it impossible for her
ever to bear another child.

Even though I traveled out of the state,
Mr. Miles discovered our secret.

Yes, I did hire him, Jessica,
for that very reason.

In this day and age, no woman
can run for public office

with abortion hanging over her head.

And the blackmail threat?

I received a call early this morning.
A man. He didn't identify himself.

He said he had a copy of
the hospital records

and wanted a quarter of a
million dollars to keep quiet.

So I--

Gavin and I decided that the
best thing for me to do

would be to drop out of the race and
to make a clean breast of my past.

I think that was very wise.

Mrs. Fletcher, one thing puzzles me.

This detective was
killed over a week ago,

yet the first blackmail call
came only this morning.

Which means that a third party has
belatedly surfaced, Mr. Daniels,

and I'm quite sure it's the same
person who killed Archie Miles.

Oh, Lieutenant, I--
I wanted to talk to you.

Could it wait, Mrs. Fletcher? I'm
dead beat, and I'm going home.

Oh, I'm sure you're very
tired, and so am I.

Harry?

You know this guy?

Yeah, I know him.
And who are you?

My name is Santini,

and I'm pressing assault charges
against this gum ball.

This creep, or one of his pals,

has been tailing me for the
past couple of weeks.

I thought maybe it was union
guys or a competitor.

Then tonight, my wife tells me
that she hired these bozos,

like I was fooling around or something.

Well, you must admit,
Mr. Santini,

you've been disappearing
a lot every evening.

I mean, it's only natural that
your wife would be concerned.

My wife is a certifiable hysteric
who falls apart if the morning

newspaper comes late.

She likes things neat and predictable,

a place for everything,
everything in its place.

Including you?
It so happens, buster,

that I've been married almost 20 years,
and I'm still crazy about that woman.

Which is why you've been sneakin'
around at night, right?

Hey, potato face, you wanna know
where I've been? I'll tell ya.

Three years ago, we had this
sailboat down at the marina.

Got destroyed in a storm, so I
figured I'd surprise the old lady

for our 20th anniversary.

I've been working almost every night with
this boat guy to build a duplicate.

It's supposed to be a
surprise. Understand?

I tried to tell you, only you were
too busy swingin' to listen.

This boatbuilder...
Does he have a name?

Shelley Dinsmann.
He's in the book.

Okay, Mr. Santini.
You can go.

Listen. The boat... It's
still gonna be a surprise.

You understand, Jack?

Harry, your eye looks terrible.

He caught me when I wasn't lookin'.

Did anyone notice that we just lost
our best suspect in Archie's murder?

Lieutenant,
I started to tell you I do have an idea.

Harry, I'm afraid I'm gonna have
to go back up to the office,

and I'm sure that
Alma will have left.

May I borrow your keys?

Oh, come on, Jessica.
Please.

It's important.

I think I do have the answer,

but I'm gonna need a
little help to prove it.

Hello?
Is that you, Mr. Kravitz?

Sorry. I must have
locked the door on you.

That's okay. I got my
key. What's goin' on?

I came as soon as I could. You
said something happened to Harry?

Yes. He got into a terrible
brawl with that Mr. Santini.

Oh, he found him, did he?
I thought he would.

He didn't kill him, did he?
No. Mr. Santini is just fine.

He's also been cleared of
responsibility in Mr. Miles' death.

Is that so? Somebody else must have
tried to ace me tonight then.

No, Mr. Kravitz. Nobody
tried to ace you tonight.

That so-called attack
was staged by you...

to divert suspicion onto Mr. Santini

and away from Mrs. Daniels.

What are you talking about?

You fired those shots through
the car windshield.

You also fired the shots
that killed Archie Miles.

Come on, lady. You been smokin'
funny cigarettes or something?

You killed Mr. Miles because he'd stumbled
on to Priscilla's long-ago abortion,

which, considering her political ambition,
was made-to-order for blackmail.

But, of course,
Archie would never have permitted that,

which is why you had to kill him.

I suppose you can prove all this.

When I was going through
the Daniels file,

I realized one of the papers
had been hurriedly removed.

In ripping out the sheet of paper, you
know, you left a tiny fragment behind.

Priscilla told me, early this morning
a man had called demanding money.

That doesn't mean it was me.

Could have been anybody, even Harry.

Harry was in Tulsa when
his partner was killed.

No, it was you,
Mr. Kravitz,

and the evidence is on that tape.

What tape?
This one.

I had this machine running when
you entered the outer office

a few moments ago.
Listen.

Hello?

Is that you, Mr. Kravitz? Sorry. I
must have locked the door on you.

That's o--

So?
You must have heard that.

The jangle of those keys on your key
chain. A very distinctive sound.

Regarding search for principals

involved in the Danbury
Scalpel Murder.

Who's there?
Alma, is that you?

I'm sure you heard that sound too.

That, too, was the sound
of your key chain.

You see, when Alma left,
she locked the door.

Harry said she always
locked up when she left.

So you had to unlock the door to get in.
It could only have been someone with a key,

and someone whose keys would
have made that sound.

You're a clever lady, but
you're also pretty dumb.

You're not so smart yourself,
Ray. Go ahead. Just twitch.

Harry, for God's sake,
I'm layin' it down.

Don't shoot.

You better pray you get convicted, Ray,

'cause that's the only way you're
gonna see your next birthday.

Look. I appreciate you driving
me to the bus terminal,

but I could have taken a cab.

But terminal? You're gettin'
curb service to Cabot Cove.

Oh, no, that's not necessary.
Listen, Jessie.

I think it's time you stopped screwin'
around with all these stupid books

and got to work.
What?

Life's a circus.
You understand?

Now, some people, they see the
tents, and they just drive by.

Other people are in there walkin'
on the high wire. That's me.

All I'm sayin' is, don't sit
back and watch. Jump in.

Harry, I do believe you're
offering me a job.

McGraw ... Fletcher.
Your brains, my knuckles.

Yeah, that's nice, but, no, thanks.

Yeah, that's what you say now, but
it's 124 miles to Cabot Cove,

and I can be very persuasive.