All language subtitles for Why.Women.Kill.S02E10.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-KiNGS_track3_[eng]

Previously onWhy Women Kill...

You killed all these people?

I'm not spending one more night

under the same roof with you

and your collection
of murder souvenirs.

-Sure you want to tell him?
-It's his baby.

Well, what are you hoping for?

Scooter is not ready
to be a father.

I plan to take good care

of Dee and the baby.

Well, you're
a private detective.

It's dangerous work.

Why is Mrs. Yost buried
in our garden?

She tried to kill me,
and Bertie shoved her.

She fell out the window right
on top of my gardening shears.

No, please,
you can't tell anyone.

You can't even tell Vern.

Vern is my husband.

He's also a detective.

Potassium chloride.

That's a horrible way to die.

I want to tell you
about this guy I met.

All the evidence
he's uncovered--

it's starting to point
to his girl's father.

Sounds like your friend
has a decision to make.

She's trying to take you
from me, like she did my papa.

Catherine, please don't do this.

Vern Loomis was a righteous man,

incapable of looking
the other way

when confronted with evil.

That is why he broke into
the Fillcot house that night.

To learn, once and for all,

if his father-in-law

was a murderer.

Hello, Mrs. Fillcot.

We need to talk.

Murder?

You can't be serious.

I am.

Just because Carlo and Isabel

died from drugs similar
to ones that Bertram uses...

Not similar, identical.

Why are you still
looking into this?

Didn't Isabel confess?

Isabel spoke to me
the day she died.

She had proof someone else
was in the Castillo mansion

the night Carlo was murdered.

I think she was talking
about one of my photos.

So you're not sure.

When I went to her room,
she was already dead,

and the photos were gone.

My theory is the killer took it.

-But you can't prove anything.
-No.

All I got are questions.

Like how could a maid
like Isabel

get access to these drugs?

You know what? I, um...

Wait here.

Back in a minute.

Oh!

So...

A few weeks ago,
Bertram told me that some drugs

had gone missing from his
medicine cabinet at work.

-Really?
-Mm-hmm.

"How odd," I thought.
"Who would have taken them?"

And he told me that any of his
patients could have taken them

while he was out of the room.

But look
at his appointment book. Huh?

See there?

Isabel Duarte.

She brought in Rita's cat
the day that Carlo was murdered.

You seem... agitated.

I'm only trying to help you
find the truth.

Why are you being contrary?

Do you recall where your husband
was the night Mr. Castillo died?

Oh, this is absurd.

Why on earth
would Bertie want to kill Carlo?

Well, Dee told me you hated Rita
for not letting you in her club.

Once she went to jail,
didn't you get in?

Have you shared this silly
theory of yours with Dee?

Because if she knew
that you were accusing

her parents of murder...

she'd never forgive you.

Well, I see no reason
to talk to Dee about this.

Not yet, anyway.

Isabel killed Carlo.

She confessed

and then she killed herself.

That's what happened.

So let it go.

Hmm?

For me?

When we first met, you suggested
I try a different occupation.

I'm starting to realize why.

My, it's late.

We should both go to bed.

Alma watched Vern exit,

unaware he was a righteous man

determined to confront evil

no matter the cost.

And Vern emerged from the house,

unaware his mother-in-law

had made
a very difficult decision.

That her son-in-law

needed to die.

Alma Fillcot paced the floor
till morning,

waiting for
her husband's return.

She was desperate
to tell Bertram

of their son-in-law's discovery.

And hopeful he'd agree
to do what needed to be done.

But of course...

...there was a complication.

Hello?

This is his wife.

What?

Which hospital?

Hey.

Did you sleep on the sofa?

I got in late.
I didn't want to wake you.

I'm going to the store
for eggs, but when I get back,

there's some stuff
I need to talk to you about.

Yeah, I got some stuff I need
to talk to you about, too.

Okay.

Mrs. Loomis.

Detective Rohbin.

What a nice surprise.

Vern's upstairs taking a shower,
but if you can wait...

Actually, I'm here to see you.

Got a few questions for you.

About the disappearance
of your neighbor.

Mrs. Yost?

Oh.

You know, I don't think
there's much I can tell you.

See, I think there is.

I could drop by the station
later today.

I'd prefer if you dropped by
right now.

Hey there.

Oh, it's you.

I thought Catherine
had dropped by to finish me off.

Oh, we won't be hearing
from her for a while.

I stopped by the mansion

to demand some hush money
for shooting you.

She's flown the coop.

And there are padlocks
on the doors.

Mm.

So, no more gracious living
for me, huh?

I'm afraid not.

Also...

I've come to say goodbye.

Goodbye?

Well, everyone
in this town knows

about my previous profession.

I think it's time to bid adieu

to this sunny cesspool and...

head to New York.

What will you do there?

Perhaps I'll reinvent myself
again.

I can be a Greek aristocrat
fleeing a loveless marriage.

Millionaires can be
very generous

to classy women
in dire circumstances.

Well...

I'll really miss you.

Why not come with me?

My career...

I'm not the only one
tainted by scandal.

People know you went from being
my lover to Catherine's.

They're saying I was being kept?

Word's gotten out, yes.

Let's say I do go to New York.

What do we do for money?

We have that cash
you took from Catherine.

And we'll pawn those diamond
cuff links she gave you.

That'll be enough
to set us up in Manhattan.

Oh, come on.

Forget about showbiz
for a while.

Let's have an adventure.

I guess
I don't need to be an actor.

As long as you're
my leading lady.

Scooter...

what a sweet
and clever thing to say.

Mmm.

Hey.

Maybe I could be a writer.

Don't ruin it.

Mrs. Luna,
what can I do for you?

I saw some detective
push your wife into a cop car

and take her away.

What did she do?

Excuse me?

I run a respectable building,

and I don't rent
to no shady characters.

Well, hold on.

This detective...

what did he look like?

-Dr. Andrews?
-Uh, yes?

They said you were treating
my husband Bertram Fillcot,

but they wouldn't tell me
what was wrong with him.

Mr. Fillcot was shot.

Shot!

By who?

Your husband's not sure.

He thinks it was a stray bullet?

Is Bertie all right?

Oh, yeah, he's fine.
You know, luckily...

his flask caught the slug.

So he only suffered a few cuts

when he fell backwards
into a plate glass window.

Oh, my.

You know, normally
I scold patients

who knock back too much booze,

but in this case your husband's
drinking problem...

came in quite handy.

I guess, uh,
you'd like to see him now.

I guess I would.

Nurse,
this is Mr. Fillcot's wife.

Oh, he's coming out of sedation.

I'm not sure
he's able to talk yet.

I just need a moment. Thank you.

Thank you.

Uh, if you could just
close the door.

Bertram, wake up.

-Wake up!
-Wh-What?!

Why? What's happened?

We're in trouble.

Vern suspects
that we were involved

in Carlo and Isabel's deaths.

We have to stop him
before he goes to the police.

And how do we do that?

I think you know
what needs to be done.

You mean kill him?

But he's family.

Only an in-law.

But Dee loves him.

Not after he turns us in.

She'll be furious.

She'll probably divorce him.

So all things being equal...

No.

No, I won't hurt Vern.

For God's sake,
we could get the chair.

Is that what you want?

I don't know.

Let me sleep on it.

Bertram, please.

It's all falling apart.

I don't know what to do.

Dee knows about Mrs. Yost.

We'd never get away with it.

-Bertram?

Bertram!

With Bertram's words
ringing in her ears,

Alma's madness overtook her.

She racked her brain,

thinking of potential assassins.

Someone willing to help
a housewife in need.

But when she came up short...

Nurse, excuse me.

May I ask you a question?

...fate stepped in
with a suggestion.

When will the doctor
allow Scooter to leave?

We're hoping to take a train
out to New York tonight.

He should be discharged by 4:00.

-Thank you.
-Mm-hmm.

Hmm.

Hello, Scooter.

Uh, hi.

I'm sorry. Have we met?

No, but I feel like we have.

I've heard so much about you
from my daughter.

Dee Fillcot?

You're Dee's mom?

Oh, so you do remember her?

That's encouraging, anyway.

Well, how is she?

She's pregnant,
that's how she is.

And to answer
your next question,

yes...

it's yours.

I feel a man has a right to know

when he's going to be a daddy.

Of course
I feel awful telling you this,

while you're here
recovering from...

what are you here for?

I got shot.

There's a lot of that
going around.

Well, why didn't Dee
tell me about this?

Well, Vern told her not to.

Vern Loomis?

The detective?

He wanted to marry Dee,
and he did.

Did you not know that?

No.

Oh, no.

I can only imagine
how upset you must be.

Mostly I'm in shock.

Now, don't be noble.

Vern basically stole
your child.

You're allowed to resent him.

Hate him, even.

I don't know how I feel.

You're throwing
a lot at me here.

I'm sorry.

But at least you finally
know the truth.

Anyway, I'll go.

You just lie here
and try to control your rage.

Look, if I knew anything about
Mrs. Yost, I would tell you.

There is no if.

We found your fingerprints
on all the valuables

that went missing
from her house.

Well, if you found them,

that means they're not missing,
right?

Don't get cute.

They turned up in a closet

Mrs. Yost's nephew
had already searched,

after he told you
exactly what went missing.

It's time to fess up, Dee.

That's Mrs. Loomis to you.

And I say
it's all just a big coincidence.

Well, listen...

I'm not suggesting

you had anything to do
with Mrs. Yost's disappearance.

Well, good, 'cause I didn't.

But I do think you're covering
for someone.

Like who?

What size shoe does
your dad wear?

It's okay.

I'm sorry, Detective.

I told him you were busy.

That's all right, Sheila.

How can I help you, buddy?

You can let me
take my wife home.

We're not done with her yet.

We think she knows something

about the disappearance
of one Carol Yost.

I'm asking you as a friend.

I got lots of friends.

Well, how many of them carried
you on their back for a mile

under enemy fire in Marseille?

Yeah.

I'm finally calling
that favor in.

Come on. I got a job to do here.

If she knows something...

I know more than she does.

Just give me a day.

I'll bring you everything I got,
wrapped up in a bow.

So what's the deal?

Why does Rohbin think
you know something

about that missing lady?

'Cause I do.

You want to clue me in?

Sure, but prepare yourself.

I'm gonna tell you stuff
about my parents

that will shock you.

I don't think
I'll be as shocked as you think.

Alma?

Mavis, what a lovely surprise.

I'm so glad I ran into you.

Ada Coy left the oddest message.

She said that you had moved
up the Garden Club election?

We're having it tonight?

I'm running unopposed,

so it's not like we need time
for campaigning.

Most of the ladies
are available this evening,

so I figured, "Why not"?

Well, where will we meet?

Chez Magnifique, 6:00 p.m.

Jean-Luc is taking care
of everything.

There's even going to be a cake
with garden-themed frosting.

Oh, you're going to make
a wonderful president,

with that eye you have
for details.

I always say the key to success
is planning ahead.

We'll see you tonight.

-Mm-hmm.
-Mm-hmm.

A gun?

You scared me.

I scared you?

Oh... I assumed you'd call me

when you were released
from the hospital.

Yes, I did.

You were out shopping.

Don't act so shocked.

We discussed the Vern situation
at the hospital.

No, you discussed it.

I laid there in a stupor,
hoping I was hallucinating.

Relax.

I've got it all planned out,

and I can handle it myself
tonight.

Tonight?

You're going to shoot
our son-in-law tonight?

It's the only way
my plan will work.

Come see what else I bought.

Hmm.

Alma, this is madness.

Dee found a body in our garden.

If Vern gets shot,
who's she going to blame?

Scooter Polarsky.

Who is Scooter Polarsky?

The father of Dee's baby.

I saw him at the hospital,
told him Dee was pregnant,

and stole one of his cuff links.

Now, should I wear
the red or the gold?

You told him about the baby?
But-but-but why?

So he'd have a motive.

I'll call Dee tonight, tell her
that I've torn a stocking

and I need her to bring
a new pair to the restaurant.

While she's buying them,
I'll ring their doorbell,

shoot Vern, and then leave
by the fire escape,

dropping one of Scooter's
cuff links by the window.

Scooter and Rita are leaving
for New York at 9:00.

So the police will just think
that he's run away.

Now, how should I wear my hair?

With that stole,
an updo might be nice,

with the right earrings.

No.

I should wear it down?

-I can't let you do this.
-Let me?

I'm not asking permission.

It's too risky.

The only real risk
is doing nothing.

Bertram...

I like Vern, too.

I do, but...

He must be dealt with.

Then let me do it.

What?

I'm the one
that put you in danger.

I should be the one to save you.

Save me?

It's all my fault, all of it.

What happened to us.

What you've done.

What you've become.

I don't regret what I've become.

No, I regret what I was.

A timid little nobody.

Too afraid to ask
for attention or power

or anything else worth having.

But that woman is dead.

Now, when I want something,
I take it.

When I have a problem,
I fix it by myself,

without help from you
or anyone else.

And let me tell you...

it feels damn good.

Alma.

All I want is your happiness.

Let me prove it to you
by dealing with Vern.

Also, it's your, your big night
tonight, isn't it?

You want to enjoy it?

Think what all that shooting
and escaping

will do to your hair.

That is a good point.

Very well.

You may save me.

I can't believe
that bitch told you.

Today, of all days?

I can't believe you knew I had
a kid and didn't say a word.

Where are you going?

Where do you think?

I'm going to find Dee.

How long will that take?

The train for New York
leaves at 9:00.

I'm not sure I want to go now.

Scooter, we just made plans.

Dee's having my kid.

And I got to do right by her.

But she doesn't need you.

She's married to the detective.

Well, maybe my kid needs me.

Scooter.

You're right.

Of course you have to think
about the child.

Thank you for understanding.

After you talk to Dee,

can you just meet me
at O'Dwyer's Tavern around 6:00?

To let me know the score?

Maybe.

Geez, Rita.

I really wish you had told me
about the baby.

It's not possible.

Honey, think about it.

They had the means to kill Carlo
and a motive.

The same for Isabel.

Getting into a garden club
is not a motive.

It's insane.

My parents are good people.

Tell that to the corpse
under their birdbath.

They explained that.

To your satisfaction,
not to mine,

and not to Rohbin's.

Well, you, you can't tell him
any of this.

Are you asking me
to look the other way?

Is that what you want?

They're my parents.

Okay. Okay.

Let's say
I keep my theories to myself.

But Rohbin still thinks
you're involved.

He's got your fingerprints
on her stuff.

-He's not going to let that go.
-But I didn't do anything wrong.

Until you tell him
what you know,

you're an accessory
after the fact

to whatever your parents did.

Do you want our baby
born in jail?

No.

Then let's go back
to the station.

We tell Rohbin what we know,

and we let the chips fall
where they may.

No.

Dee.

I just got to think
about this, okay?

I just...

I got to figure this out.

Scooter.

What are you doing here?

I need to talk to you.
You got a sec?

Now is really not a good time.

I know about our baby.

Ah, geez.

Rita.

Oh.

Hello, Grace.

Taking a trip?

Yeah.

You and your friends in the
coven had me banished. Remember?

Oh, Rita.

The way the club turned on you
was disgraceful.

And I didn't say a word
in your defense.

But I have come to know

what betrayal feels like and,

well, I'm truly sorry.

Thank you.

That means more
than you can imagine.

Oh.

And, for what it's worth,
I've just left the club, too.

Really?

Why?

Lots of reasons.

But mostly
I can't stand the idea

of sitting through
Alma's inauguration tonight.

Alma is the new president?

How is that possible?

Here's what I've come to learn

she is a sweet-talking vampire,

and if she'd fought
for the Nazis,

we'd all be speaking German.

I thought you liked her.

What changed?

I got in her way.

Found out how ruthless she is.

Ruthless?

Alma?

Why are you surprised?

You crossed her.
Look what happened to you.

What are you talking about?

No one benefited
from you going to jail

more than Alma.

How would you like to talk...

over lunch?

-Hello?
Hello.

-Oh, Mr. Fillcot.
-I hear you had

a rather interesting
conversation

with my wife last night.

We did.

And if you have questions
for me, you can just ask.

There's no need
to break into my home.

Yeah, sorry about that.

I'm at my clinic, working late.

And if you can drop by
in the next hour or so,

I'll be happy to answer
any questions you may have.

Okay, Mr. Fillcot.

We'll see you then.

You could have at least
given me the chance

to do the right thing.

You have big dreams, Scooter.

I didn't want to be the gal

who kept you
from being a movie star.

Well, that's not looking likely.

Well, don't give up.

Hollywood needs
handsome guys like you.

Actually, I was thinking
about going to New York.

But if you need me to be here,
to help with the baby.

No. No.

Vern and I got it covered.

Hey, um...

When the kid gets older,

will you tell him about me?

Sure. Sure.

So, you think it'll be a boy?

Yeah.

And if I do make it,

tell him I'll buy him
whatever he wants.

I'm hoping you gave him
your good looks.

That would be gift enough.

Be better for him
if he looks like an average Joe.

That way, he won't expect
so much from the world.

Small dreams.

That's the way to go.

Listen, I got to go.

I'm dealing
with a big family thing. So...

Oh, sure. Uh...

Well, thank you
for hearing me out.

And thank your mom
for me as well.

My mom?

Yeah. She's the one
who told me about the baby.

Mom?

Are you here?

We need to talk!

-Mom.
-Deirdra?

Ah.

What a nice surprise.

Have you come to see me off
for my big night?

I spoke to Scooter.

Why did you tell him
I was pregnant?

You spoke to Scooter?

I thought he was still
in the hospital.

They released him.

Can we talk about this later?

I'm late for my inauguration.

There's something else.

Shoot.
I've misplaced my lipstick.

If you could just help me
look for it...

I've also spoken to Vern.

He's been working for Rita,

trying to prove she was framed
for Carlo's death.

He shared his theory with me...

about who the real killers are.

Well... did he also tell you

that he broke into our home
last night?

I caught him in the act.

Then he tried to change the
subject by hurling all sorts

of vile lies at me.

So I threw him out.

Obviously, Vern was livid.

So you can't believe
a word he says.

Vern tried to convince me
you and Daddy are involved,

but I refused to believe him.

Of course you did.

I told him you and Daddy
were good people,

incapable of murder.

Exactly.

Now, if I could just find
that lipstick.

Oh.

But that brings me
back to Scooter.

Why tell him I was pregnant?

Scooter said you expected him
to be angry at the news.

I just keep thinking,

if you thought he'd be angry,
why tell him?

Did you hope
he'd become violent

and hurt Vern?

Oh, but you couldn't want that.

Unless...

Vern had uncovered the truth.

You haven't said a thing
about the way I look.

What?

All of the work
that I've put in

on my hair and my nails.

My clothes.

It's all come together.

Surely, you must have noticed.

Mom.

What are you doing?

I think...

when a woman's come as far
as I have, that...

...well, it's a sin
not to tell her she's beautiful.

Hello?

Mr. Fillcot.

Ah.

Vern.

Thanks for coming.

You're admiring my collection,
I see.

I had to rescue that
from a garbage can.

Been hiding it here ever since.

Must be valuable.

Only to me.

In fact,

this silly, little box

is the reason we're both
here tonight.

You don't understand.

But you will.

So...

Dee told me about Mrs. Yost.

Yes.

I thought she might have.

Good for her. Hmm.

Would you like a drink?

I think we could both use one.

Yes.

Hey.

I'm wondering
if my lady friend is here.

Her name is Rita.

She's supposed to be
waiting for me.

Uh, I don't think
she's here, buddy.

Can I get you something
in the meantime?

Uh, yeah.
Uh, let me get a, uh...

Uh...

Actually, I'll just wait
till she gets here.

Ladies.

-Ah.
-Alma, you're a vision.

Oh, I love that stole.

Well, I thought the occasion
called for a little glamour.

So what's the program tonight?

When do I speak?

First, we let everyone get
nicely snockered.

And then I give
an endless speech,

thanking everyone
who did anything

for the club
for the entire year,

And then I say,

"And now,
for the woman of the hour..."

Good Lord.

Is that Rita?

What is she doing here?

Mrs. Fillcot?

-A moment.
-Yes?

That woman outside
asked me to give this to you.

Thank you, Maximilian.

You want to tell me
about your girlfriend?

The one in your garden?

Carol Yost
was not my girlfriend.

I have never cheated on my wife.

But your wife told Dee...

She lied.

That's all she's been doing
for the last two months.

Just telling one lie
after another.

And for nothing.

I'm confused.

What exactly has Mrs. Fillcot
been lying about?

Mm...

She wouldn't want me
to tell you.

She'd want me
to spin one more lie.

Just you and me, all alone,

far as I know.

Tell me what's going on.

Yes.

We are all alone.

First, I must apologize.

Please know that
this is not easy for me.

Hello?

Thank you for seeing me.

Will this take long?

My inauguration
is about to begin.

I know.

I should start by saying

congratulations,
Madam President.

What a meteoric rise.

I do not miss your sarcasm.

Go on.

Ask your question.

Did you kill Carlo?

I beg your pardon?

You did, didn't you?

And you put that syringe
in my purse to frame me.

Why didn't I see it?

I thought about Isabel,
who at least had a reason.

I thought about Catherine and
Carlo's business rivals, but...

not once did I think about you.

Of course not.

Women like you always
underestimate women like me.

Wallflowers.

Plain, unpopular girls.

You don't know what it's like
to trudge through life

begging women like you

to please, just...

look at me.

I admired you so much.

I wanted so badly
to be your friend.

If you hadn't been cruel, I...

You what?

Finish that sentence.

No.

I have to go.

You wouldn't have killed
my husband?

Let go of me,
or I'll have you arrested.

Come on, Alma, confess.

You'll feel so much better.

God, I wish
you were still in jail.

If the police hadn't found
that damn postcard

letting you off the hook.

Postcard?

Yes, the maid's confession.

Don't look at me like that.

It was in all the papers.

The papers...

...said she left a note.

None of them said
it was on a postcard.

You murdered Isabel, too.

Now, hold on.

I knew she wouldn't
have killed herself.

I... I knew it.

Whatever it is you think
you know,

you can't prove anything.

Perhaps not.

But I can certainly
make some noise.

No, you are not going in there.

Good point.

News like this deserves to come
in through the front door.

And a big thank you
to Sonia Clark

for organizing this year's
lecture series on exotic blooms.

Oh! And now...

the moment we have all
been waiting for.

Ladies and gentleman,

It is my honor to introduce
a terrific lady

who just happens to be

our brand-new president.

Alma Fillcot!

Thank you.

Thank you all so much.

We have seen some dark days.

My predecessor in this job
let you all down.

Her shocking behavior
and brazen deceptions

left this once noble club

mired in scandal.

But where she brought
our reputation low...

...together...
we will raise it high.

Hear, hear.

Alma.

Is that blood?

Oh, no, that-that's, um...

Someone call the cops.

There's a dead woman
in the alley.

-What?
-What's happening?

-What?
-What's happening?

Alma?

Oh, my goodness...

Alma.

I'm looking for Rita Castillo.

I know she comes here a lot.

Have you seen her?

Bertie?

Bertie?

Where are you?

Hello, my love.

What is all this?

I took the blame for all of it.

For every death.

And I told Vern
you were innocent of any crime.

I even gave him your gun
as a show of good faith.

He's still alive?

-You said...
-I said I'd save you.

And I did.

If you had killed him,
you'd have been caught.

And, well,
Dee loves him so much.

All we've ever wanted
is for her to be happy.

So...

I also asked Vern to give me

some time to say goodbye to you
before he phones the police.

Goodbye?

I've decided to help myself.

Like I helped so many others.

That way, you'll be spared
the pain of a trial.

Darling.

Why is there blood
on your stole?

Um...

I just killed Rita.

Alma.

She figured it all out.

She was going to tell.

I can't keep up with you.

You're always a bloody murder
ahead of me.

What am I going to do?

The police are going to come.

I can't go to jail.

Perhaps you'd like to come with me?

Soon, people will learn
our most sordid secrets,

and they'll hate us.

Let's leave while the choice
is still ours.

Give me one second.

Bertie...

Everyone deserves
a beautiful death.

Even us.

We don't have to do this.

What?

We're giving up too easily.

I can say that,
that Rita threatened me

and I was just defending myself.

She can't contradict me
now that she's dead.

But, darling...

I can handle the police.

I'll think of some kind
of story.

I think it's a bit
late for that.

No, I'm-I'm good at that,
thinking on my feet.

Yes. That's something
I've learned about myself.

Beauty is nice, but...

it's so much more useful
to be clever.

And maybe just a,
just a little bit ruthless.

Do you know what I mean?

Bertram.

Bertie.

Goodbye, my beautiful girl.

Hurry.
They'll be here any second.

Mom.

Dad, I need to talk to you!

Daddy.

Dad.

Mom?

What are you doing?

Your beloved father has died,
my darling.

I just...

wanted a little memento
to remember him by.

And this is how
the gruesome love story

of Mr. and Mrs. Fillcot

came to its inevitable
conclusion.

Alma was quickly arrested.

And the police went to work
digging up evidence.

The scandal lent a bit of fame
to all of those involved.

And some...

were happy for the attention.

The trial was over quickly

and was covered
by every newspaper

in the country.

And the woman
whose only ambition in life

was to be noticed found herself

the most famous murderess
in American history.

And while she knew that infamy

was not the same as glory,

Alma found,
if she just squinted a bit,

the two blurred together

quite nicely.

Even the jeers of the crowd
crying for her blood

sounded to her

like the cheers of adoring fans.

Yes, on the day
she was sentenced to die,

Alma got what she had wanted

her whole life.

People were finally
looking at her.

And each one of them

knew her name.

And for a middle-aged woman

who had gone unnoticed
for so long...

it was truly

a happy ending.