All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S03E22.Murder.She.Spoke.1080p.AMZN.DD2.0.x265.HEVC-Bearfish.eng

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Surely you can't believe it was one of us?

Who more capable of operating in the dark
than a blind man?

- Oh, for God's sakes.
- That's ridiculous.

Why don't you go home

and start
one of your special bubble baths?

Like they say in those bus commercials,

why don't you just sit back
and leave the driving to us?

But this time they even got the cover.

They're even using our publicity
to sell their pirated tapes.

He accused me of sellin' Stoney's tapes.

♪ Standing on the edge of nowhere ♪

♪ Waiting for a train ♪

♪ Silver dollar in his pocket ♪

♪ Lucky is his name ♪

♪ Nothing but a cardboard suitcase ♪

♪ Guitar for a friend ♪

♪ Sleeps out underneath the stars ♪

♪ And serenades the wind ♪

♪ Everybody calls him Lucky ♪

♪ They think freedom has no chains ♪

♪ Drifting like a tumbleweed ♪

♪ A new town every day ♪

♪ He prays that someday
his luck will change ♪

♪ He ain't got a woman to his name ♪

The body was discovered by Edie Babish

on November 2, at 3:30 in the afternoon.

She knew it was 3:30

because she was late returning
from her marketing.

She checked her watch in the elevator,

bothered that dinner wouldn't be ready.

Nothing fancy.

Just her husband's favorite;
stuffed cabbage,

but it took at least four hours.

She was equally certain
about the location of the body.

The man's throat had been slit,

and he was making a dreadful mess

all over
her freshly scrubbed kitchen floor.

Mrs. Fletcher? Excuse me.

Would you take two steps back, please?

Your voice is just a little bit
too authoritative.

You mean too loud?

How's this?

It had not been Edie's day.

That's perfect, ma'am. That's your mark.

Uh... I'm sorry to bring this up,

but I, I can't read the manuscript
from back here.

Ah, emergency procedure number 483.

That okay?

All right, Mrs. Dalton,
we're ready to roll.

Uh, I'd like to give Greg
another minute or two,

if that's all right.

He and Randy Witworth were having dinner,
but they should have been finished by now.

♪ He ain't got a woman to his name ♪

♪ Lucky lost it all
Lost it all in Santa Fe ♪

♪ He ain't got a woman to his name ♪

Gold. Pure gold, guys.

Heck, Al, you'd say the Partridge family
was platinum if it'd get us out of here.

Play it back for us.

Stoney, my man,
we gotta get that retake in tonight

if we're gonna deliver this album on time.

Al, my man,
I got all the time in the world.

Save me from comeback cons.

Okay, Earl, let's go.

Jessica, I'll stay here
in the studio with you.

Try to forget
that there's a microphone in front of you.

Sorry to be late, Mrs. Fletcher.

- I'm Greg Dalton.
- Oh, saved by the producer.

I can't tell you how much
I've been looking forward to this.

I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just had
to meet you before we started.

Well, it's my pleasure.

I can't tell you how much
I admire what you're doing here.

Hi, sweetheart.

I'm sorry you missed our barbecue bec--

The stand must have sprouted legs.

Oh, don't take it out
on the stand, Mr. Dalton.

I'm the culprit, I'm afraid.

Me and my authoritative voice.

Well, now, listen. Where were we?

Yeah, I was about to kiss my wife.

Oh, that's nice.

A strange metallic aftertaste,
but that's not bad.

By the way, I'm also very sorry,
Mrs. Fletcher,

about this evening session,

but it's the only time we seem
to be able to get this studio.

Oh, I think that mystery stories

should be read in the dark of the night,
don't you?

You know, it's interesting.

It's always the dark of the night to me.

Cheryl!

- Haven't you gone home yet?
- No.

I was just waiting for you
to come back from dinner.

Oh, you didn't have to do that.

Of course not, Sir.

Your wife called several times.

She said it was urgent.

Margaret just can't get enough of me.

Oh, and Stoney Carmichael called.

He said it's very important.

- He needs to see you.
- Hmm.

Every day he's sounding
more like the old Stoney Carmichael.

Oh, and here's the check for Mr. Anglin.

He'll be here at 8:30.

And out of here by 8:40 for good.

Well, what are you still doing here?

Isn't it past your bedtime?

Good night, Sir.

♪ Your heart, your heart ♪

♪ There she goes ♪

♪ Whoa, she likes them heroes... ♪

- Stay here, Sal.
- Stoney, quit treatin' me like a kid.

Honey, you are a kid.

I got to learn about this business
if I'm gonna be a singer.

Okay, first rule is,
take care of your band.

Go get these boys some sodas.

- Sounds great, Stoney.
- Better than it does on this?

- What the hell is this?
- Found that at a swap meet.

They were chargin' 20 bucks for it.

This time they even got the cover.

I don't believe this.

They're even using our publicity
to sell their pirated tapes.

Stoney, I told you there was a risk
in pushing back the release date.

Yeah, yeah.

This is cash out of my pocket, too.

Well, let me tell you something, Randy.
I got me a uptown lawyer,

and he tells me

if I can prove these bootlegs
are coming out of this studio,

it'll, uh-- what was the word he used?

Nullify my contract.

I know how you feel, Stoney.

You've been waiting a long time for this.

But, man, I'm your friend.

You want out of this contract,
all you have to do is say so.

Oh, sure, repay all your expenses

plus 50 percent of any future contract
I come up with.

Nobody held a gun to your head
to sign the contract

when I found you in the dive in Waco.

Well, somebody got me mighty drunk.

I guess I'll even be billed
for the liquor too, huh?

Al, the truth.
What do you know about this?

Hey, man, this is your studio.

You know how loose it was
before you beefed up security.

Anybody could've come in here
and dubbed those masters.

Stoney Carmichael
is my ticket to the top floor.

I'm not gonna let some bootlegger
try to ruin it for me.

Nobody'd mistake her
for a rhythm and blues girl.

That's the last book
for the bleeding blind

you're gonna catch out of here.

Thanks for being here, Mrs. Fletcher.

This is such an important series.

Oh, you're right, Mr. Witworth.

Not nearly enough books are pub...

Earl, my boy,
we need to have a little chat.

Just a note of insincerity.

A note? Sounded more
like a full-blown symphony to me.

Well, I'm afraid, you see,

that this is the last of the Mystery Books
for the blind to be recorded here.

- Oh.
- What?

Greg, why didn't you say
something when you first arr--

That's why Randy took me out to dinner.

But, can't you take the series
to another company?

That'll be tough.

This isn't exactly
a moneymaking proposition.

- I can't say I blame him.
- I can.

Nancy, don't.

I'm not gonna let him get away with this.

I said no!

Perhaps this isn't the best time
to approach Mr. Witworth.

One of your works of art?

Margaret, you scared the hell out of me.

Not exactly music to a newlywed's ears.

God, you look great.

How'd you get in?

Your secretary. On her way out.

She works quite late, doesn't she?

And don't you think I should
have a key of my own,

seeing as I am footing the bill
for this little takeover?

Margaret, you're being silly.
I told you I'd be home late.

And, of course, you can have a key.

I just have to settle
this business with Carl first.

Listen, tell you what.

Why don't you go home

and start
one of your special bubble baths?

Actually, sweaty palms turn me on.

Ten o'clock. Meet you at the tub.

Why do I get the feeling
that you're rushing me off?

It's just that Carl
should be here any minute,

and I might not wait for that bath.

Good.

I'd hate to think
that you only wanted me for my mind.

Or one of those other "M" words
like... money?

But what really bothered Mrs. Babish was

that the body was dressed
in her only fromal gown.

"Fromal gown"? Oh, my goodness.

I'm sorry. That's my typing.

There's no problem, ma'am.

We'll just pick it up at the beginning
of the paragraph, all right?

I'll be right back.

Mrs. Fletcher, in three, two...

♪ Well, she's an ordinary girl
With an ordinary name... ♪

Randy, you wanted to hear the new tracks?

♪ An ordinary job for a minimum wage
A little... ♪

What the--

Oh, come on.

Randy, there goes the power again.

That's the third time this month.

We can't have blackouts like this
in the middle of sessions.

You and Carl gotta get some people in here
who know what they're doing.

- It's bad for the equipment.
- The electricians were just here.

This has happened before,
Jessica, just stay put.

Well, where are you going?
Wouldn't it be safer to--

I know my way around.

I'll see if I can find
the circuit breaker.

Hello? What's going on in here?

What happened to the damn lights?

♪ Well, she goes to Church on Sunday... ♪

Well, let there be music.

♪ Everybody... ♪

- Randy?
- Help!

Randy, are you okay?

Somebody.

Oh, God. I'm hurt.

It's Randy! Something's wrong with Randy!

- What is it? What's wrong?
- Something about Randy.

Help... me.

Oh, good Lord.
Uh, call, call an ambulance.

Stabbed... me.

Stabbed you? Who stabbed you?

Somebody... in the dark.

Lieu--
Lieutenant Faraday, Police Department.

Will he make it?

Did you see who did this to you?

Dark. Too dark.

Stay with me, now. Come on, stay with me.

- Tell me what happened.
- Al. Al on phone.

Okay, good.
Good, you were on the phone with Al.

Lights out. Pain... back.

Surely you can't believe it was one of us?

The front door was locked.

No one came in except Mr. Anglin.

Now, I do not want you to worry
your pretty little head about this.

I'm going to have officers here
to protect you every second.

Excuse me, uh, Lieutenant.

I'm sure that you have already figured

that if there was somebody
already in the office with Mr. Witworth

when the blackout occurred,

they could easily have left,
and no one would have noticed.

I mean, it was very confusing out here,
you know, after the lights came on.

Uh-huh, it's still a little confusing now,
isn't it, ma'am?

Tell you what.

Like they say in those bus commercials,

why don't you just sit back
and leave the driving to us?

Someone must have thrown the switch,
come in here and--

But how? Place was pitch dark.

- Flashlight?
- No. Victim would have seen it.

Excuse me, Lieutenant Faraday?

Mr. Dalton, here, says that he heard--

Mrs. Fletcher, the sergeant here tells me
that you're a mystery writer.

Uh, yes. As I was saying--

Oh, I think writing
is a real good hobby for a woman.

You can cook up some supper.
You can chat on the phone.

Then pop over to the old typewriter
now and then for a few minutes.

Yes. When I'm not too busy
beating the laundry

against the rocks in the river.

Oh, I bet your books are charming.

Thank you.

I was trying to tell you
Mr. Dalton heard something.

But then, of course,
real murder is anything but charming.

And solving it
requires patience, strength.

- Ah, man's work.
- Right.

I think
I'd better say something here.

Lieutenant, Mrs. Fletcher thought
that something I heard in the hallway

might be important...
if you're interested.

Well, of course, sometimes...

sometimes the ladies
have real good hunches.

So, what happened?

I was standing at the drinking fountain
taking a pill,

I have a circulation problem in my leg,

when I heard somebody run past me
and something drop.

Now, that thing could have been a knife.

So, this happened
while the lights were out?

I'm afraid I don't know.

What do you mean, "You don't know"?

The sunny Spain
and the black hole of Calcutta

are the same to me, Lieutenant. I'm blind.

Well, I'm sorry to hear that.

You certainly seem
to get around pretty good.

Thank you.
I can also chew gum at the same time.

- Don't you use a cane?
- Not if I can help it.

I don't need one around familiar places.

I'm sure the cleaning lady
will get that stain.

And, yes, Mrs. Fletcher,
I noticed it too. Paint.

- Monet Mauve.
- Come again?

A Monet Mauve
is a very expensive nail polish,

Lieutenant,

and the bottle is right here.

Could I trouble you
for your pocket handkerchief, please?

- Of course, ma'am.
- Thank you.

I tell you what. Why don't you take that
as a souvenir on your way home?

It's awful late
for a lady to be out alone.

Lieutenant, nail polish dries very fast.

The stain on the floor is still damp,

which means that this bottle
was dropped very recently.

So, you're saying that some woman,
who likes expensive nail polish,

came in here and stabbed Mr. Witworth?

Kind of a jump, don't you think, ma'am?

I merely said that this bottle
was dropped very recently.

But, yes, I do think
it would be a good idea

to find out who it belongs to.

Leave it to a woman to find nail polish.

Dusted?

Hello. Mm-hmm. Okay.

Mr. Witworth was D.O.A. at the hospital.

We're now looking for a murderer.

Lieutenant, you can't seal off the studio.

Save your breath, Mr. Anglin.

No one goes in or out of here
until things are settled up.

Uh, if you're through being searched,
ma'am, you're free to go.

Just don't--

You're not gonna tell us
we can't leave town.

That's a good idea.

I wasn't even in the studio
when Randy was killed.

I got a business meeting in Nashville.

Sorry.

By the way, I think Officer Cooper's
ready for you right now.

Lieutenant, I have got a red-eye.

Oh, ma'am, I sure hate
to make you miss a canasta game,

but I'm afraid I'm gonna
have to ask you to stay.

I know that.

I just would like to use a telephone
to cancel my passage,

but I didn't want to use a phone
that hadn't been, uh...

oh, how do you, official men,
call it, dusted?

Lieutenant?
I think we've found the murder weapon.

Push.

That must be what Mr. Dalton heard drop.

- You're a great pace-man, Jessica.
- Thanks.

Just don't let Lieutenant Faraday
hear you say that.

Oh, rough ground ahead.

I know. It's my usual route.

Oh, I do admire you, Greg.

You certainly don't miss out on anything.

Since the car accident,
you know what I keep telling myself?

That you won't let it stop you.

And I haven't. Bum-leg or not.

Well, you've certainly made
an incredible adjustment

in a comparatively short space of time.

The human body's an amazing mechanism.

You lose one sense,
and the others pick up the slack.

Coffee... at 100 yards!

Jogging, what a way
to ruin a beautiful morning.

How about some eggs
before those arteries get too clear?

Oh, thanks. That would be lovely.

Here, honey, let me do this.

- That's okay. I've already started.
- And I'll finish it.

You know, I want to thank you both
for letting me stay here.

Please, it's the least we could do
with you forced to stick around.

I'll get it. I'll get it. I'll get it.

Hello?

Carl! Yes, good to hear from you.

But, Carl, it's not like we're--

Carl, look,
why don't you take some time to-to...

All right, Carl. All right. All right.
Good-bye.

He canceled Mystery Books, didn't he?

Does he have the power to do that?

I guess he must have.

I'm not so sure.

Don't let's talk figures, Stoney.

Point is, Red River Studios
wants to be a part of your future.

Oh, sure, you can get back to me.

You take care now, you hear?

Always a pleasure
doing business with an artist.

My husband used to love Stoney Carmichael,

but I'm afraid I lean more
towards Eddy Arnold.

Yeah, that comeback album's gonna go
through the roof when it's released.

Oh, you mean it isn't out?

I thought I saw a cassette
in Mr. Witworth's office.

No, no. Bootleg.

Afraid that's one of the reasons
ol' Stoney wants out.

Randy wouldn't do business with him,

but me, I mean heck, I'm a businessman

who's got an obligation
to run a profitable company.

Carl, there's no reason
the Mystery Books couldn't make money

if they were marketed properly.

Greg, my boy,
Randy kept you on as a favor.

Now, I know it, and you know it.

But, see, I don't got a favor owing you.
What I do got is folks countin' on me.

Uh, Mr. Anglin, I'm assuming

that you inherited
Mr. Witworth's portion of the business,

or you wouldn't be making
decisions of this kind.

Well, I, uh,
I am in the process of acquiring it.

Oh, I'm sorry...
I must be confused.

Last night in Mr. Witworth's office,

I happened to see a cashier's check

made out to you
for a sizable amount of money,

and it was attached to a contract
transferring the ownership.

A lot's changed since last night.

Yes, I can see that.

- What's he doing here?
- Who?

Lieutenant Faraday.

Probably wants to ask some more questions.

Why? There's nothing more we can tell him.

Mrs. Fletcher... Mrs. Dalton.

Lieutenant, unless you have a warrant--

Come on, Nancy. We've got nothing to hide.

As a matter of fact, ma'am.

I'm sorry I snapped at you.

This whole thing has gotten me...
well, you know.

I'll get some coffee.

Mr. Dalton...
I understand that you had a barbecue

here at the house a couple of days ago?

Most everybody from the studio attended,
right?

If you'll excuse me,
I'll give Nancy a hand with the coffee.

Jessica!

Nancy, Lieutenant Faraday isn't stupid.

- He'll look in the dryer, too.
- What do you mean?

I suppose the others from the set
are in there, too?

One of our knives is missing,

but somebody from the studio
must've taken it.

Nancy, you can't withhold evidence.

Jessica, somebody is trying to frame Greg.

But it will only look worse
when it's discovered.

Besides, it could be used to clear Greg.

Lieutenant,

you said that the prints
had been wiped off the murder weapon.

I mean, anybody could've taken that knife
from the barbecue.

He was standing
right next to that master switch

during the blackout.

But how can you be sure

that the blackout was caused
by the master switch?

Nancy, didn't you tell me
that the power had gone off

several times recently?

That's right,
they've been having electrical problems.

We've had to stop
in the middle of recording sessions

several times.

Hmm-mmm.
It could also have been an act of God,

but I don't think so.

Yes, but even if the blackout
had been caused by the master switch,

somebody else could have pulled it.

Mrs. Fletcher...

this is a very nice
womanly thing you're doing,

helping a friend,

but you're grasping at straws here, ma'am.

Everybody else is accounted for.

Not really, Lieutenant.

Nobody could really prove an alibi
during a blackout.

Exactly, ma'am, it was a blackout.

And who more capable
of operating in the dark than a blind man?

- Oh, for God's sakes.
- That's ridiculous.

But, Lieutenant,

you have to have something
more than a suspicion of--

Like a motive?
You want a motive? Fine. Fine.

There's this, uh,
real doll of a waitress named Doris

down at the steak house.

Apparently, Mr. Dalton here,
and Mr. Witworth

had quite a shootout
over their New York primes last night.

Mr. Witworth said he was canceling
the Mystery Books, right, Mr. Dalton?

- And then you reminded him--
- That he owed me, which he did.

A man owes something to somebody
he blinds in a car accident.

But not his life.

A job maybe, but not his life.

Greg,
could you identify anything

about the person who ran past you?

Like what?

Well, could you tell
if it was a man or a woman,

for example?

Sometimes I can tell the difference,

but not when they're wearing
soft-soled shoes.

Uh, but did they sound heavy or light?

Did they move fast? Were they young?

He's not an eyewitness, Jessica.

- He's blind.
- Nancy!

You're not superman, Greg.

You can't do everything by yourself.

It will never be the same
as it was before the accident.

Now, I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry,
but that is the way it is.

I'll go and talk to Lieutenant Faraday.

No, no, wait. Please, please.

Nancy, I am happy.

I have a wonderful wife, a good life...

until I ended up here.

Why do you have to be so damn happy?

So nice to Randy in front of me?

Didn't you ever wanna
just bash his face in?

Stop it! Just stop it!

How do you know what I feel?

You know what it's like
to wake up every morning

and open these eyes?

Of course I hate it.

And I hate him,

but hating isn't gonna get me anywhere.

Isn't that right, Jessica?

It's certainly very destructive.

But you have to acknowledge it.
You have to deal with it.

You can't just push it down,
or it's gonna well up inside.

You think I killed him, don't you?

I don't know you anymore, Greg.

You don't confide in me.

You don't let me do things for you.

You have cut me off.

Now, all I am to you is your chauffeur.

I'm sorry.

Nancy, these recent power failures,

are they anything
like what happened last night,

I mean, total darkness?

Yes.

But you don't think it was a coincidence?

Oh, no.

If I were to pull a murder
in total darkness

and frame a blind man for it,
I think I'd need some rehearsal.

Why don't you go on home?

I want to go and set a few things straight
with Lieutenant Faraday, okay?

Oh, this night scope is great.

The deer don't even see you coming.

Maybe that's why they call it
"sport shooting".

Mrs. Fletcher,

I share your respect for Mr. Dalton.

I really do.

Just because I respect him,
just because I like him,

doesn't cloud my vision.

- Cream and how many sugars?
- Black.

Lieutenant,
there are so many other possibilities.

That bottle of nail polish
indicates that somebody--

Was in that office
sometime near the murder.

Nothing more, ma'am.

Or Witworth could've dropped it himself.

Could have.

Just like that power failure
could have been caused by something else.

I mean, we don't know
that it was the master switch.

Ma'am,
I'm getting just a little bit nervous

about this "we" business.

Yes?

Ah. Thank you very much.

We now have the last bit of evidence
that we need.

The blood on the knife
that we found in the studio

matches the victim's.

Yes, you can unseal the recording studio.

Yeah, that's right. Call off the marines.

Lieutenant, I wish you wouldn't do that.

Once you open up that studio,

whoever's behind all this
could go in and cover his tracks.

Tracks? What tracks?
I have got my smoking gun.

A little bit too conveniently.

Ah, so now Mr. Dalton is being framed.

Please, ma'am, please.
You're smarter than this.

- Don't act like an irrational--
- Please, Lieutenant, please.

Preserve what respect I have for you
and don't say "irrational woman".

Irrational outsider.

Now, ma'am, I really, really don't
want to see you

coming around here anymore,

unless you're with some man
here to arrange bail for Greg Dalton.

Lieutenant Faraday, believe it or not,
there are women who can arrange bail,

and besides that,

you're the one behaving irrationally

by failing to pursue
all the leads in this case.

Let's do my overdub
on Night Tears,

and then when
the rest of the guys get here,

we'll cut that last song.

The quicker the better.
That's great, Stoney.

I'm all backed up here.

I got Larry and the Lashers
coming in right after you.

Oh, hey, they're bad!

Think they'd give me a chance
to work backup for 'em?

They probably would.

They're 90 percent sleaze
and ten percent perversion.

Come on, young'un.

Mrs. Fletcher? Something I can do for you?

Yes.

I'm sorry to hear about Greg.
He's a great guy.

He used to invite us
over for barbecues and stuff.

I really can't believe he did it.

Al, when you were on the phone
with Mr. Witworth,

did you hear anything
that would give us a clue

to the identity of the killer?

Can't think of anything.

No background sounds
or jangling of the keys or...

Sorry. Look,
I really have to get back to work.

This whole business
has set me way behind schedule.

I wish I could have been of more help.

Well, thanks anyway.

- Earl?
- Mrs. Fletcher, come on in.

I thought Mystery Books was canceled.

I'm afraid it has been.

I'm sorry to hear that. I like Mr. Dalton.

This darn shorts.

We're gettin' 'em all over the place.

Oh, very scientific.

Earl, you seem to be
something of an expert.

Tell me, is there any way
to tell the difference

between a power failure caused
by pulling a master switch

and one caused by electrical problems?

They all look the same,

but I'll tell you
the master switch never was off.

I checked it myself other times.

The lights
just come back on when they're ready.

And you have no idea
what's causing these problems.

Electricians can't figure it out either.

And it always happens
in the middle of a session, too.

A session of Mystery Books for the blind?

Come to think of it,

during Stoney Carmichael's sessions,
too, as I recall.

Earl, I couldn't help but notice
you having an argument

with Randy Witworth in here
before he was murdered.

Yeah, old Randy, he had a short fuse.

He accused me of selling Stoney's tapes.

And I took exception, of course.

But I'll tell you something.

You talk about mad,
I've never seen anybody, ever,

like Stoney was about those tapes.

And if he hadn't been in his studio
during the blackout...

These can really drive you mad.

Here, let me have a go.

How do you like that?

You know, I'm a great fan of your uncle.

Makes one of us.

It must be very exciting
being on the road with him.

Yeah, excitin'.

You know, I'll tell you somethin'.

If I would've known that he
was gonna be worse than my daddy,

I never would've run away.

You know, you'd think old Stoney
would help me get started, wouldn't you?

Well, maybe he wants to protect you.

How's he gonna do that?
By making me his soda slave?

Geez.

What?

Oh,
I-I was just admiring your nail polish.

It's, uh, very intense.

Oh, it's called Slash. You want some?

Ah, no. No, thank you.

Purple
doesn't really work very well for me.

I understand, Sally Ann,

that you were in the ladies' room
during the blackout.

Yeah. Take it from me.

It's not a fun place to be
when the lights go out.

Well, you're lucky you managed to get out
without hurting yourself.

What's that supposed to mean? I didn't
leave till the lights came back on.

Oh. Oh, I-I misunderstood.

I-I thought that you were the first person
to find Randy Witworth in his office.

So?

Oh, I get it. Let me tell you somethin'.

I didn't even hardly know the dude.

Why would I want to kill him, huh?

Excuse me.

Come on, now, Margaret.

Everybody knows
you were just Randy's meal ticket.

Ah, what a way
you have with words, Carl.

Now don't get het up.

I just meant I don't see why
you want this old wreck of a place.

Well, call it sentimental.

But my offer is the same one
you agreed to with Randy.

It was my money then, it's my money now.

Well, I'm not so sure I want to sell now.

- Mrs. Fletcher, ma'am.
- Mr. Anglin, I was, uh...

I-I was just waiting for you.

Could've been a long wait.

Well, I want to give you your tape.

You just hold on,
and I'll go get it from Earl.

You know the widow?

Well, I suppose Carl
meant that as an introduction.

- I'm Margaret Witworth.
- Jessica Fletcher.

I'm so very sorry about your husband.

It was a great shock.

When you say good-bye
to your husband in the morning,

you-you never realize
that those will be the last words

that you will ever say to him.

You-you never dream that--

That the next time you see him,
he'll be...

Oh, I know.
It, it must have been terrible.

That's such
a perfectly lovely black dress.

It's crepe de chine, isn't it?

Well, yes, I believe so.

That's such a pretty pale shade
of nail polish you're wearing.

Monet Mauve, isn't it?

Well, you certainly know
your nail polishes.

That is such a coincidence.

You know, a bottle was dropped right here.

Lieutenant Faraday found it
the night of your husband's death.

Well, there's--
There's nothing clandestine

about coming to see your husband
at the office, is there?

Oh, of course not.

I just can't help but wonder

why you felt it was so important
to make me believe that you didn't.

Well, I'm sorry you didn't
get to finish this up.

Well, I wish you'd reconsider.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Fletcher,
but you see now,

dumping this Mystery Book series
is about the only thing

that Margaret Witworth and I
do see eye to eye on.

You take care now, you hear?

Carl! You gone deaf or something?

A couple of times now I told you
to stay away from my niece.

Let go of me, will you now, Stoney?

- Stoney, you turn him loose!
- You keep out of this!

- Where to, lady?
- Uh, stay right here.

I've got the address in here somewhere.

You got some idea
about helpin' her out

with a singing career?

- She came to me, Stoney.
- Damn right I did.

Yeah, and she came on to Randy, too,
and I straightened him out

just like I'm gonna
straighten you out right now.

What you got in mind for my niece?
Sure ain't no singin' career.

Stoney, you keep out of this!

Look, she's got a tin ear
and a voice like a screech owl,

which means
that she's only good for one thing.

Carl, are you gonna let him
talk about me like that?

Well, I--

Yeah, he's gonna let me
talk about you like that.

Because without me,
this place is one big nothin'.

- Now come on, honey, let's go.
- You let go of me!

Listen, if you don't start
behaving yourself,

I'm gonna send you back home
to your mama in Chattanooga.

Now let's go!

Jessica, I wanna hear your tape

to see if I can use it
to get another studio to pick us up.

Greg, you just made bail.

Give it a rest at least for tonight.

You know, Greg, there's still something
that's been bothering me.

You said that the person
who passed you in the hall

was running?

- That's right. Nancy.
- Yes?

You always made better coffee,
even when I could see.

But, the question is,

how could anybody run in the dark?

- Maybe they had a flashlight.
- I didn't see one.

Of course, it's possible
that the killer was already in the office.

Sally Ann said
that she was in the ladies' room,

but she could have gone
to the office and killed Randy.

- But why? She had no motive.
- Carl Anglin certainly did.

Carl couldn't have done it.

He wasn't inside the building
when the lights went out.

Very convenient.

What if somebody inside,

somebody who had a relationship with him,

committed the murder on his behalf?

It's all a lot of ifs, buts, maybes to me.

Right now,
all I can think of is hearing this tape

to see if I can salvage the book program.

Oh, it still doesn't feel right to me.

I mean, how could Sally Ann
have caused the blackout,

and made her way in the dark--

I mean, how could anybody?

Only ten minutes
before Lieutenant Garfield arrived...

Is that me? That can't be me!

Yes, it's you. Sounds wonderful.

Authoritative.

He looked at the swarthy man,
with the hideous bloody grin

cut into throat,
noted the gown he was wearing,

and dryly observed that...

he appeared to be wearing a size 12.

Hello?

Yes, Lieutenant, she's right here.

At least
the corpse wasn't wearing makeup.

Even more bizarre was the fact that there
were no blood stains on the dress.

Hello, Lieutenant?

What's all this about,
the victim wearing makeup?

Oh, that wasn't me.

I mean, it was me,
but it was merely a tape.

A tape of my, um... my voice.

I really wish

you hadn't accused Margaret Witworth,
ma'am.

She's been yabbering my head off
for the last hour.

Lieutenant, never mind Margaret Witworth.

- What?
- She didn't do it.

But I know who did it, and I know how.

But what I don't know is how to prove it.

Who did it? Who?

- Thanks for all your help, Earl.
- No problem.

- I got it.
- No, it's all right, I got it.

Look, man, it's been a long day.
Why don't you split?

Yeah. I guess I will hit the road.

Okay, see you manana.

Damn!

Who is it? Who's there?

- It's me, Al.
- Greg?

I wanna know
why you wanted to frame me.

What are you talking about?

You did a good job. Too good.

You knew
I could maneuver in the dark, and I can.

I'm getting closer, Al.

You're crazy! Stay away from me.

Well, what do you know?
The lights came back.

No, Al,
you switched them back on.

Just as you did
the night that you killed Randy Witworth.

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

I realized you had to have rigged a way
to turn the studio power on and off.

And you wouldn't have had time
to dismantle it,

what with the studio being sealed
and sessions all day.

Just because I have a master switch here
doesn't prove anything.

How could I see in the dark?

With this, we figure.

When you came into the studio today,

you weren't wearing your helmet.

But when I came in here to talk to you,

the helmet
was already hanging up on the rack,

which meant it had been there
since the murder.

That seemed strange.

Why not wear it when you left that night?

I think it was because you were afraid
that in searching you,

which they were likely to do,

the police would discover
that this has an infrared visor.

Lady, you're nuts.

I was on the phone with Randy
when he died.

Uh-uh. I'm afraid not.

What he heard
was a tape recording of your voice

from this battery-powered player.

Besides giving you an alibi,
it locked Randy in one place:

on the phone during the blackout.

- Allowing you to kill him.
- And to frame me.

You knew
that Greg took his medication

sometime around eight o'clock.

And that's why the unexplained blackouts

always occurred
during Mystery Book sessions.

You were rehearsing,
making sure it would work.

On the monitor,
you saw Greg leave the studio.

You got Randy on the phone,

put the cassette on the player,
and hit the switch.

You knew where the helmet was
and could easily reach it.

Yeah, and you brought the steak knife
that you took from Dalton's barbecue.

With the helmet on,
it was easy to go to Randy's office...

where you killed him.

It didn't matter
that he didn't die on the spot.

As it turned out,
it was to your advantage.

Yeah, he alibied you on his deathbed.

You dropped the knife
behind the soda machine.

Then you returned here, hid the tape...

placed your helmet in plain sight...

and switched the lights back on.

Stoney and his musicians
had no idea you'd ever left.

Besides, how could they?

How could anybody see in the dark
except for a blind man?

You're crazy. You can't prove any of this.

My lawyer is gonna make sushi out of you.

Anybody could've rigged this board.

You got nothing on me!

Now, I do not want you to feel bad, ma'am,

because I will find a way
to make him confess.

You did search him
the night of the murder, didn't you?

Well, uh, yes. Of course we did.

And you didn't find the tape on him?

Well, no.

Well, then,
it's still got to be here somewhere.

Jessica, how can we ever thank you?

Well, you just get the series
lined up at another studio,

and then we will finish
The Mystery of the Mutilated Minion.

Oh, here's my ride.

Lieutenant Faraday?

Faraday? Is he smiling? I hope.

Well, he does seem
very pleased with himself.

Well,
I thought you'd like to know.

I got Parker to confess.

He was the bootlegger, all right.

Ah, then you did find the tape.

Ten hours later.

If I never hear another guitar,
it won't be too soon.

Come on, Greg, I think the Lieutenant
has something to say to Jessica.

- Thank you for everything.
- Good-bye.

Ciao, Jessica.

Please, ma'am.

I guess she was right.

You really did help us
wrap this whole thing up.

Well, thank you, Lieutenant.
That's very nice of you.

And you've taught me something.

As long as I live, I will never again--

Yes, Lieutenant?

Underestimate
the power of women's intuition.