Original subtitles

Today's her birthday.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I'd be careful around this one, if I were you, ma'am.

Whoever stands between me and what's mine is going to get hurt.

We don't need him or his grief.

What the hell is the matter with you?

What?

It's a matter of life and death.

Charge is homicide. We got him dead-bang.

It's good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.

I said stay away!

Stay out of things you don't understand, Mrs. Fletcher.

For your own good, of course.

By my father's blood, I swear I'll kill you.

The problem is that often an investigator

only looks for what he expects to find.

A detective is called to a murder.

The wound appears to have been caused by a knife blade.

So, he looks for a knife, not stopping to consider

that the knife may have been used to conceal

the telltale marks of the real weapon.

And by the time the coroner's report comes in,

the crime scene has been contaminated

and the real murder weapon has been lost or mishandled.

Yes?

What should a detective look for, in that case?

Everything. That's the point.

Yeah, but you have to be able to narrow it down somewhere, don't you?

Well, that gets into the area of instinct and perception.

And you're a fine one to talk about being perceptive, Jessica!

I could've walked in here riding an elephant and beating a drum

and you'd have been none the wiser!

Oh, my!

Happy birthday, Jessica.

Thank you.

Well, don't just stand there.

Come on, blow out the candle.

I only came here for the cake, you know.

Oh, Sean, come on in.

I hope you didn't mind the little surprise I cooked up with your students.

Just my way of saying thank you.

Look, Sean, you don't have to...

Oh, yes, I do. When I came here at the start of the semester,

I had never taught before.

The thought of facing a classroom...

Frankly, I'd have rather been back on the streets of Dublin chasing crooks.

You helped me through those first few weeks and I'm grateful.

Well, I'm glad it worked out.

So am I.

Which is why I'm of a mind to celebrate my good fortune and your birthday.

Now, tell me you don't have any plans.

Well, actually, I've been so busy that...

Done and done!

I'll pick you up at 8:00. There's a charming place I'd like to show you.

A bit of home in a strange land.

Good food, good music.

Good company, absolutely the best.

Hello, Sean.

It's been a while now, hasn't it?

What, not a "hello," then?

Not a "how are you" or a "what're you doing here?"

Or a wink or a nod? Is that it?

Well, that's all right.

I'll be seeing you later. You can count on it.

You can count on it.

What a wonderful place.

You know, I never even knew this was here.

Do you come here a lot?

All the time.

That's right, and we've had more than a few complaints about it, too.

You're losing your hearing.

That's your watered-down drinks they were complaining about.

Jessica Fletcher, this is Patrick MacNair,

the proprietor of Fenians' Chase.

What a great pleasure.

My pleasure.

Today's her birthday.

Oh, well, in that case, it's twice an honor to have you.

And the drinks are on the house.

Happy birthday, Jessica.

I take it you two are great friends.

Since we were boys.

When he lost his club in Dublin, I helped him come out here and start over.

You never told me what brought you to the States.

Well, there was a police exchange program.

Chance to see a new place, learn American police methods, see new faces.

How could I say no? So, I came, I saw, I learned, I retired.

Now it's time to pass along what I know to the next bunch.

Dad!

Jessica, this is my daughter Kathleen.

Kathleen, Jessica Fletcher.

How very nice to meet you, Kathleen.

Thanks. My dad talks about you all the time.

You said you were going to call.

Did you know where to find me?

Yes.

Then what would be the point of calling?

I give up.

I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to meet some friends for dinner,

and I'll see you back at the house.

It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, she's a lovely girl, Sean.

Here we go.

Two Tuesday specials, same as always.

There you are. Enjoy.

Thank you.

Good heavens, I don't know where to start.

Then just close your eyes, pick up your fork and hope for the best.

This isn't a good night for you to be here, O'Connor.

No? And why might that be?

You know full well.

Now why don't you leave before things get ugly,

as they've a habit of doing whenever you show up?

Patrick, I'm telling you, I had nothing to do with that business back in Dublin.

Now, I've come in here with my nephew for a pint,

and I won't be leaving until I get one.

Finn Dawley, my uncle, Michael O'Connor.

Well, Mr. Dawley, let's see if we can work out our little problem here.

What do you say?

Patrick.

Cullane!

Uh, Sean...

No, no, no. Now, it's all right, Jessica.

What do you want?

When did you slime your way across the Atlantic?

Oh, not long ago.

As for what I want, why, you came and made a life for yourself.

Seemed like a fine idea for me, too.

This isn't a visit, then?

No. Sold everything I had, Sean, me boy.

House, land. What little property I had left, thanks to you.

Cashed it in. Cashed it all in.

Put everything into a joint account with my nephew Ian here.

You see, we're in the reconstruction business.

New homes out of old, just like Aladdin's lamp.

That's why I came by the school to tell you about it.

I figures you'd be happy to hear that.

The only thing that'll make me happy is to see you on the first boat back to Ireland.

Meanwhile, stay out of my way.

Otherwise, I won't be responsible for the consequences.

I'd be careful around this one, if I were you, ma'am.

His safety record with women leaves considerable to be desired.

Sean, I really do think we should be leaving.

I'm sorry you had to see that, Jess.

His name is Michael O'Connor.

The genetic cul-de-sac with him is his nephew, Ian.

I gathered from the discussion you knew each other in Ireland?

Came from the same village outside Dublin.

We've been at sixes and sevens since we were kids.

Fights in the schoolyard, fights off the schoolyard.

He even vandalized me old man's store.

By the time I joined the police department,

he had a record as long as your arm.

Didn't do much to improve the relationship, I wouldn't think.

Oh, it was as if the moment they gave me a badge,

Michael O'Connor had a focus for all the things that had gone wrong in his life.

And true, over the years, I had to arrest him for one thing and another.

Then he took his family business,

they had been in construction going back five generations,

and used it to scam pensioners and young folk.

So, I shut him down.

The judge sent him away for two years.

And he blamed you, of course.

And that's not the worst of it.

When we were young, we both fell in love with the same woman.

Long story short, she married me.

He swore he'd break us up to get even,

but Beth and I stayed together for 30 years.

When she passed away five years ago, he blamed me.

It was an accident, but he'll never see that.

He's obsessed, he's blind with hatred.

He's trouble, Jess.

And if he ever comes near you, you're to tell me immediately, all right?

A police detective approaches his job coolly and logically.

What Balzac called, "Clean hands and composure."

A crime scene is a terrible thing.

But you have an obligation to the victim

not to let your emotions get the best of you.

Because then you blow the case and serve no one.

You must study the scene

carefully and logically.

Then, as that great Irish detective Sherlock Holmes said,

"Once you eliminate the impossible,

"whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

I thought Sherlock Holmes was English.

That's British propaganda.

Well, anyway,

seeing as how you've a lot of reading ahead of you,

I release you from your bonds 10 minutes early.

Now, that's chapters nine and twelve,

and be prepared to discuss them in detail tomorrow.

Good day.

You just can't walk away, Sean.

It's not that easy, not from me.

What do you want from me?

Oh, just for you to know that I'm thinking of you.

And that every day, for the rest of your life,

every time you look over your shoulder,

I'll be there, waiting for you to slip up.

And oh, you will, bucko, and that'll be my chance to even the score.

I'm going to call security.

Well, that won't do any good, you see,

because I got myself a visitor's pass, all right and proper.

I told them I wanted to check out the college for some relatives back home.

I guess I got lost and wandered in.

Get out!

Patrick, what's this I hear you've got some fresh scones in?

Sure, and I...

Now, I'll not have you holding out on me.

Sean, maybe you ought to come back later.

You're right, it's not the best time,

what with you having the place fumigated and all.

Fumigated?

What else in here could smell that bad?

Cullane.

Saw your daughter Kathleen as we came in the other night.

She's every bit as attractive as Ian said.

You know, there's a lot of her mother in her.

You stay away from my daughter.

Well, I was... I said stay away!

Because if you go near her,

if you so much as talk to her,

by my father's blood, I swear I'll kill you.

Excuse me, are you Sean Cullane?

Yes, is there a problem?

We need to speak to you about a Mr. Michael O'Connor.

If there's someplace we could go.

Of course, this way.

So, what's he gotten into this time?

Then you admit knowing Michael O'Connor?

Of course. He's been a thorn in my side for years.

One I'd give almost anything to be rid of, I don't mind telling you.

But I knew he'd make a mistake sooner or later.

So, what's he charged with?

Nothing.

I don't understand.

Mr. Cullane, Michael O'Connor came in this morning

to swear out a criminal complaint against you.

He said you threatened his life last night.

I... Oh, that's absurd.

Apparently there were witnesses.

Do you want to reconsider your answer?

All right, look, we argued and I got a little hot, that's all.

You'll excuse me, sir, but given what you said

when I mentioned Mr. O'Connor's name,

it sounds like this runs a little deeper.

No, this is ridiculous.

Well, I hope so, Mr. Cullane.

And I hope this is the end of it.

Meanwhile, I suggest you exercise a little discretion

if you happen to run into Mr. O'Connor.

That'll save both of us a lot of trouble.

Thank you for your time.

Sean?

Jess. I take it you heard?

Enough that I was able to fill in the gaps.

All the things he's done, and he files charges against me.

Every time I think about it, I feel like my heart's going to explode.

Which is only complicated by too much coffee and not enough food.

Knowing you, you probably haven't eaten a thing all day.

Let's just say that cafeteria food is a little beyond my tolerance just now.

Well, then, let me repay you for the dinner the other night.

I've got a perfectly good roasting chicken

sitting in my fridge, waiting to be cooked.

No, I'm not sure I'll be fit company.

I'll survive.

And I'll expect you around seven.

Jess.

Thank you.

Uncle Mike, there you are. I was wondering what was taking you so long.

Look, I think we've got a problem with the drywall out back.

A lot of it's broken. I think...

What the hell is the matter with you?

What?

I went by the post office to pick up the mail

and I found this bank statement.

Ten thousand dollars in one month, Ian?

Now, I know it didn't go into supplies.

That leaves just one option.

What in God's name do you think you're doing?

Finn says he won't wait.

He says he wants his money now, all of it.

Damn, you can't let those creeps muscle you!

They'll get it when I've got it.

Look, Unc, I'm telling you, you don't know what he's like.

Wrong.

He doesn't know what I'm like.

Now, I'll handle this from here on out.

We had ourselves a nice little talk the other evening.

And I think that we've come to a reasonable, a reasonable compromise.

Finn's not reasonable, and he doesn't compromise.

Look, I didn't cash everything in back home to watch you squander it away.

When you got in over your head in debt,

I told you not to go to that loan shark Finn.

But you wouldn't listen to me.

Well, you'll listen to me now.

You'll not be giving one more penny to Finn Dawley. Do you hear?

All right. Do you hear?

All right!

Good.

You look like you could use a man's company.

You're right.

Let me know if you see one.

You haven't changed a bit, have you? Still stubborn as ever.

That's your problem, you know. You got too much of your father in you.

You leave my father out of this.

Just making conversation.

All right, fine.

You want to make conversation? Then, how about this?

Take a message back to your uncle.

Tell him to leave my father alone.

Tell him to take his evil, and his spite, and his money,

and but a one-way ticket back to Ireland.

We don't need him or his grief.

Next thing you'll be saying is you don't need me, like you used to.

All right, that'll be enough of that.

I hear there's a fine night air out tonight, Ian.

Why don't you go find out?

I like the air in here just fine.

That's as may be, but at least outside you'll be able to enjoy it.

That'll be much harder to do in here,

what with you about to become unconscious and all.

You know, I remember when you were a lot more fun.

A lot more fun!

There's bad blood in that family, Kathleen. No doubt about it.

Something ought to be done.

Aye. And if he doesn't leave my father alone,

by God, something will be done!

Where's me money, Ian?

I don't... I'm sorry, I don't have it. I thought...

No, wait, I thought you talked to my uncle.

I talked to him.

But I made the deal with you. So, now I'm talking to you.

Where's me money?

I can't get to it. He watches the accounts like a hawk. There's nothing I can do.

Well, that's too bad, because whoever stands between me and what's mine

is going to get hurt.

Are we clear on this, Ian lad?

All right.

I appreciate the dinner, Jess.

At times like this, you know,

there's part of me that just wants to sit alone in the dark and burn.

I'm glad now I didn't. Thank you.

You sound like a man who's made up his mind about something.

When Michael O'Connor walked in like that, he threw me off my game,

which is exactly what he wanted.

But I've been dealing with him for years, and I can do it here as well as back home.

I won't let him ruin what I've built up here.

I know what needs to be done, now it's just a question of doing it.

And that is?

A topic best left for another day.

Meanwhile, thanks again for the excellent dinner.

I've some things to do, so I'll see you at the campus.

Things this late?

Aye, and if I don't get them done and home early, Kathleen will kill me.

You think I've got a temper? You should see her when she gets wound up.

She's deadly, and no mistake.

Well, all right. I'll see you tomorrow and take care, Sean.

Aye, I will. Good night, Jess.

Good night.

You sure this is the right address?

Yeah.

It's the address dispatch gave me.

Gunshot report, 11:45.

Okay, tell the coroner he can roll the body any time he wants.

Lieutenant, we've got the victim's nephew in the other room.

Pretty upset.

Yeah?

Keep him there. If he's distraught, he might get crazy and disturb the evidence.

Who knows, he might wanna disturb the evidence.

Be right there.

So, Lieutenant, how do you want me to write this up?

Murder. No question.

The victim was killed by a single gunshot wound to the head.

We found one spent cartridge, but no gun.

That rules out suicide.

The wound was up close and personal.

That rules out an accidental shooting from across the room.

There's nothing here to steal, that rules out robbery.

No signs of a struggle or forced entry,

which means the gone goose was probably killed by someone he knew.

Where's the nephew?

He's right in here, sir.

Sir, I understand you were related to the victim?

That's right.

God, I can't believe it.

How could this happen?

I was about to ask you the same question.

Can you think of anyone who would've wanted to hurt your uncle?

So, I hear you used to be a cop in Ireland.

That's right. I retired last year.

Yeah, I'm thinking of hanging it up myself.

Taking the plaques and certificates and my gun and checking out.

You take your gun with you when you quit?

Yes, but what's this got to do...

What'd they give you, a .38?

Nine millimeter. Anything else?

Yeah.

What were you doing at Michael O'Connor's house last night?

I told you, I wasn't anywhere near the place.

I left Jessica Fletcher's a little after 10:00 to run some errands.

But every store you said you checked was closed.

That's quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?

Look, I didn't do it.

No?

According to our files, you threatened to kill O'Connor

less than 24 hours before he was found dead.

That's got to be the quickest anyone's gotten

his wish since Moses parted the Red Sea.

Look, I wasn't there last night. I've never been there.

Then what were your fingerprints doing at the scene?

I don't know.

They were there because you were there.

That's a damnable lie.

Well, how did they get there? Magic?

Maybe that would explain the nine millimeter slug we dug out of the deceased.

What do you think?

I think you're bluffing.

If you dug out a nine millimeter intact,

you'd just do a comparison and we wouldn't be having this conversation.

Which tells me you've got a bullet too damaged for comparison.

Meaning you got nothing.

You go on thinking that, Cullane.

Maybe when I come back with a stenographer,

you'll come up with a story that'll convince a jury.

Because frankly, pal,

I don't think the one you've got now is gonna hold up.

I can't believe it. I can't believe they would arrest Dad for this.

Well, they haven't arrested him yet.

They've just brought him in for questioning.

But they wouldn't do that unless they thought he was involved, right?

Well, I know the detective who is investigating

the case, and he's tough, but he's fair.

I'm sure he'll realize he's made a big mistake.

Maybe.

Me, I don't believe it, not for a minute.

It's good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.

But Sean's not the type.

Then who is?

Well, I've been thinking about that, I have.

And there's this fellow name of Finn Dawley

that I've seen hanging about with Michael and Ian.

Loan shark, he is. Dangerous man.

Everybody knows Ian was in deep with Finn.

Michael was trying to get him to back off.

Now, my guess is he tried to muscle the wrong man.

Finn Dawley?

Aye. Big fellow, red hair. Comes in here a lot. You can't miss him.

I think he does half his business right at that table.

What about Ian?

What, that little weasel? He doesn't have the nerve by half.

Oh, I don't know.

Dad said Michael sold off everything he owned back home

and put it into a joint account with Ian.

With Michael out of the way, he could have complete control of the money.

But I don't understand.

You said that Michael sold off everything that he owned back in Ireland?

Doesn't that seem rather curious?

I mean, surely, he would have kept something

behind in case he'd ever wanted to go back.

No, no, no, not Michael O'Connor.

People like him never look more than one day ahead.

No, perhaps you're right.

Well, we better be getting over to the police station.

Your father may be finished by now.

Oh, right. I'll get my coat.

Okay.

Patrick, I wonder if I could ask you a favor.

You and Sean and Michael all came from the same part of Ireland, didn't you?

That's right. Why?

I was wondering if you could make a phone call

to any of your old friends or members of the family back home,

find out what you can about Michael O'Connor.

When he left, why he left, anything at all.

Perhaps what killed him here

was started there.

Sure thing. I'd be happy to do it.

Thanks.

All right, I'm set.

Good.

Kathleen, just one thing.

Just now, when Patrick learned that Michael was dead,

he seemed almost pleased by the news.

Can't say as I blame him.

Oh, didn't Dad tell you?

Patrick had a club just like this back in Dublin.

It burned down a couple of years ago,

the day after he threw Michael out once and for all for starting trouble.

Now, they never proved anything,

but it's quite a coincidence.

Ahmed?

I'm afraid he's not here.

Someone told him there's a late delivery coming in out back.

Finn Dawley, I assume.

I've a little message for you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Stay out of this business with the O'Connor folk.

It's none of your concern. Lay off.

I see.

You wouldn't have any special reason for wanting me to drop this, would you?

My reasons are my own.

And you should look for the source of your problem closer to home.

Or didn't you catch that little lovers' spat the other night

between Ian and Kathleen?

Lovers' spat?

Oh, aye.

Back in the old country, when they were at university,

they had a little fling together.

I can't believe that.

Not with the nephew of the man that Sean arrested so many times.

She didn't know.

When she found out, she figured she'd been used to hurt her father.

And she's been looking for a way to get even for a long time.

So, you see, there's far more here than meets the eye.

Stay out of things you don't understand, Mrs. Fletcher.

For your own good, of course.

Yes, well, you've conveyed your message, Mr. Dawley.

Now I suggest that you leave.

I just can't understand your attitude, Lieutenant.

I mean, between my confrontation with Finn Dawley last night,

and what I've told you about his nephew's debts and possible motive,

why you're still focusing in on Sean Cullane

as a prime suspect is just beyond me.

That's because you don't see the big picture, Mrs. Fletcher.

You don't have access to all the evidence we've accumulated so far.

That's because you won't let me look at it,

which makes it rather hard to see the big picture.

Mrs. Fletcher, you're the friend of a suspect in a murder investigation.

You know the regulations. My hands are tied.

Well, what about the forensics report on the body?

You can at least tell me, can't you?

All right, fine.

There's nothing in the autopsy which contradicts what I observed at the scene.

Death was caused by a single bullet at close range.

Thank you.

And since there was no sign of forced entry

and no overt signs of a struggle,

that just reinforces the idea that the victim was killed by someone he knew.

Wait. Just back up, please.

You said there were no overt signs of a struggle.

Whenever there's a death by violence,

the coroner checks for defense wounds.

When they checked O'Connor's hands,

they found traces of gunpowder residue,

which means he raised them in a defensive gesture when the gun was fired.

It's a natural reflex.

Well, yes. But isn't there also the possibility...

Anything's possible. My experience tells me...

Lieutenant, excuse me. This tape just came in the mail.

You know, I checked it out, but I figured you'd better take a look at it.

Who's it from?

Michael O'Connor, the deceased.

Put it on.

I think this is recording.

I think it's recording.

I'm making this tape because I fear for my life.

I've been told that unless I leave town for good,

someone is going to blow my brains out.

Now, if anything should happen...

Happen to me, I want it to go on record

that the man responsible is Sean Cullane.

Stop it.

Damn, I knew I should have gone ahead and charged him the first time.

Get me the D.A.'s office. I want an immediate warrant for Sean Cullane.

The charge is homicide. We got him dead-bang.

Listen to me. This is insane. What's the matter with you? I didn't do it!

Sean.

Oh, Jessica, talk to them!

I'm trying. I called Kathleen, she'll be here any time.

But there's something you should know.

On Michael's hands they found...

Sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, I'm afraid that's gonna have to be it for now.

Go ahead.

Lieutenant Parnell.

Mrs. Fletcher, wait.

Look, you know I respect your views, but this is a stone lock.

The word of a dead man is admissible evidence in court.

We got his fingerprints on the scene, we got reports of threats,

we got means, motive, opportunity, and the victim's own words.

Mrs. Fletcher, this isn't enough to just charge,

this is enough to convict.

What else do you want from me?

I want you to think, Lieutenant.

Look, you're a bright man, but you're only looking for what you expect to find.

Now, doesn't it seem a little odd that a former homicide investigator

would leave his fingerprints all over a murder scene?

Killers make mistakes. If they didn't, we'd both be out of a job.

All right, look. You think you've got something, fine.

Go ahead, look at the evidence.

I gotta turn it over to his defense attorney anyway.

Then give it your best shot.

But after this, you're out of the loop. Period. Okay?

Agreed. Now, can I start by seeing that tape over again?

Sure, why not?

I think this is recording.

I think it's recording.

Stop. Stop the tape. Freeze it, freeze it.

Now, look here.

Now, you see this photo?

Now this photo was taken after O'Connor was found dead.

Mmm-hmm. Right?

Now, there's a black smear you see on the edge of this opening here...

Mmm-hmm.

And there's another one right below it. You see?

Mmm-hmm.

But neither one of them are here on the tape.

Right.

What does that prove? They were working on the house.

What this tells us is that something scraped here

sometime between when he shot this and the murder.

But, yes, Lieutenant. That is exactly the point.

Exactly what point?

Wait.

Anything should happen...

Happen to me, I want it to go on record

that the man responsible is Sean Cullane.

Yes, yes. All right, Lieutenant.

I have to check out one other thing.

Could you meet me this evening at the crime scene around 6:00?

Look, I gave you your chance. You proved nothing, so you're out of it.

I won't be there.

Yes, you will.

What makes you so sure?

Because you're a good cop, and you don't like loose ends.

And the thought that I might've just found one

will make sure that you're there.

No. Absolutely not!

Patrick.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. I just heard.

Is it true they've arrested Sean?

Yes. Yes, I'm afraid so.

Did you ever get around to making that call to Dublin about Michael?

Aye, but there was nothing new.

Nothing that we didn't already know.

Well, tell me anyway. Anything at all.

It's very important. Leave nothing out.

Well, like we heard, Michael sold everything he had,

lock, stock and barrel, put it all in a joint account with Ian.

Seems he took less than he might've gotten if he'd waited,

but he was in a hurry to get over here.

So he must have decided to leave quickly.

Good, that fits. Anything else?

Specifically, did anyone ask about Michael's health?

Well, it's odd that you'd ask that.

At least half the people I talked to asked about that.

Seems the local doctor had been trying to find out

if anybody'd heard how Michael was doing.

They kind of got the impression it was important.

Patrick, could you get a hold of that doctor right now?

Oh, I suppose. Why?

Let's just say it's a matter of life and death.

This better be good.

Hello, Lieutenant. I'm glad you changed your mind.

Okay, I'm here.

I may be crazy, but I'm here. So, what've you got?

Well, if I'm not mistaken, this is the same room that was in the photograph,

the room where Michael O'Connor was found dead.

Right. Over by that wall.

Mmm-hmm.

"Mmm-hmm," what?

Well, you see that opening here,

where it appears that they were going to make a window.

Now, there are dark scrapes in the wall beneath it,

just like in the photos. Look for yourself.

I'm looking.

I'm seeing drywall, I'm seeing a scrape, I'm seeing the opening.

I'm going home.

Wait, please.

Can you please bring me that ladder over there?

Thank you.

Right about there?

Fine, thank you.

Well, so what do you see?

Nothing.

Good night.

Threads.

Rope threads. Just as I thought.

What the hell are you doing here?

Doing my job, O'Connor. Check your paperwork.

Murder scenes are open to inspection day and night.

Right.

Right.

Except, this wasn't a murder.

Then what was that body? Tinker Bell?

No. Michael O'Connor is dead, all right. But he wasn't murdered.

He died at his own hand.

That's rubbish.

You're off base. O'Connor died of a gunshot wound.

There was no gun found at the scene,

which means it has to be murder.

Not unless you're saying he shot himself

and then hid the gun after he was dead.

That's exactly what I'm telling you, Lieutenant.

If you want proof, the gun that killed Michael O'Connor

is inside this wall, directly beneath that opening.

You'll find that it's attached by a long rope to an extremely heavy weight.

Mrs. Fletcher...

I don't believe I'm doing this.

I should be home,

reading.

This is stupid.

All right.

There.

You were saying?

Guess it got stuck just short of the floor.

Well, thank you for shaking it loose.

Do you mind?

I don't believe it.

That doesn't make any sense.

I'm afraid it makes perfect sense.

Michael O'Connor blamed Sean for all of his problems,

and hated him for taking the woman that he loved.

When Michael left Ireland, he was in such a hurry

that he sold his property for a fraction of its value.

Something extraordinary must have happened

to make him cash in everything and leave like that.

It's as if he knew he wouldn't be coming back.

It's the kind of thing you do when you know you're gonna die.

Close everything out, put your affairs in order,

make sure the money goes to your next of kin.

Which hardly fits the picture of a man who never thought ahead.

But why?

Why would he do all this?

Because he was already dying, Ian.

This evening, I spoke to his doctor in Ireland.

A few months ago, Michael was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor

and given six months to live.

I noticed when he spoke, he sometimes stammered,

and he repeated his words at unnatural intervals,

both indicators of a possible tumor.

It must have come as a double blow to know his own life was ending,

just as Sean was beginning a new life in the United States.

So he decided a quick death was preferable over a slow and painful one.

And why not take Sean with him?

It would be his final revenge, to frame Sean for his own death.

Michael went out of his way to provoke Sean into threatening him

to start a paper trail with the police.

Taunted him so that Sean would get his fingerprints

on the card you would later find beside the body, establishing his presence.

He was carefully building a body of circumstantial evidence,

knowing that the word of a dead man is admissible in court.

And of course, the videotape was the final touch.

What about the gun?

Well, that was the ingenious part.

But it was also the part that betrayed him.

He cut into a high wall, ostensibly for a window,

but mainly to get access to the hollow space within the wall.

He then slipped a heavy steel weight into the gap

and attached the other end of the long rope to the gun,

knowing that as soon as he released the gun,

it would be yanked up into the wall.

But when he released the gun,

it was pulled back with enough force to cause this scrape,

and the rope itself to cut into the wall at the edge of the opening.

"To the last will I grapple with thee."

What's that? JESSICA: Melville.

Captain Ahab lashing out at the great whale, even as he died.

"For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee."

Yes.

Obsession has always extracted a terrible price, Lieutenant.

A terrible price indeed.

You don't know how good it feels to be back.

Having been on the other side of the badge,

I have to tell you, Jessica, it's not exactly my idea of a good time.

I don't know how we can ever repay you.

Well, you can't.

Because I didn't do it as a favor to you,

I did it entirely for myself.

I'm busy enough with writing and trying to teach my own class.

You think I wanna have to take on your class as well?

Oh, no. I made sure that I got you back here as quickly as possible.

You're a glorious liar, Jess. And thank you.

Well, there's my class. I'll see you later?

Count on it.

Oh, by the way, Dr. Auerbach tells me you've got a new student in your class.

Enjoy.

Good afternoon.

Today our topic is going to be

the criminal mind.

Captain said I could use the extra credits, so, uh, here I am.

All right, let's begin!