Original subtitles

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

You're all willin' to get hurt, I mean really hurt.

- I'm fine. - Was it those men from the mining company?

Indian lawyer goes home to save his people.

Or make one aware he has no home.

It might need your passion.

The money was never recovered, half a million dollars.

- So you're after the reward. - The man was murdered by mistake.

I didn't kill anybody!

Packs a suitcase in a hurry,

as if he was running away from someone or something,

and then he kills himself?

Hey!

Hold it!

Damn him.

I never did get the hang of those things.

Well, it does take a bit of a commitment.

Excuse me. I have to get back to work.

Ah, sure. Sorry.

I mean, I sort of packed it in

before they took over the world.

Not... Not that I couldn't have figured it out.

Better hang on, folks.

We're gonna be bounced around all the way to Dominion.

I hear they're about to blow up.

Sorry?

Dominion.

Troublemakers.

Indians.

Are you familiar with the territorial claims

of the Hobart Creek band and how they've been swindled?

Depends on who you talk to.

Or where your prejudices lie.

Try reading what's underneath the headlines.

My pleasure.

They're here.

You're not going through.

Fellas, I don't have time for this.

You're costing Aurora Hills serious money.

So what's it gonna be, Mr. Shipley?

You gonna break some more legs?

You've got my promise.

The next one's gonna be your last.

Look, if you're thinkin' about using that dynamite

you stole to stop us, I'd reconsider...

very carefully.

This is a legal contract between Aurora Hills

and the territorial government,

so as of now, you are all trespassing.

So you tell me.

You gonna get out of our way,

or are we gonna have to move you?

Why don't you try it?

May I ask you something.

Y'all prepared to get hurt?

I mean, really hurt?

Just because George Quill says so?

Fair enough.

It's your decision, guys.

Let's do it!

Joe, what are you doing here?

You shut up.

Let me talk to them.

We can take the lot of them out now,

save ourselves a lot of trouble.

Wade, this is not Vietnam.

We're startin' a mine here, not a war.

Look, we've got people working on this in Toronto,

and they're sending a lawyer.

Give it a few more days, that's all I ask.

Oh, come on, guys.

You're looking at what the wisdom of the Council has done for us.

Forget Toronto.

It was their grandfathers that took this away from us in the first place.

You really think their courts and their judges

are gonna suddenly start giving it back?

You'll end up in jail, or dead,

without winning anything.

You, Billy, haven't you learned your lesson?

What about Dave Walton?

Are you willing to make Maggie a widow?

No.

No. Anyone else?

OK. Move your trucks and go on home.

You're wrong, Grandpa.

Sorry I took so long, Joe.

I was halfway to Pine Falls when you called.

With you here, I should've known I didn't have to worry.

I'll be glad when that lawyer of yours gets here.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Look, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mrs. Fletcher,

but that old plane's oil pressure gauge

was telling me I had a little problem.

Don't worry. Just a valve cover gasket.

I'll get it fixed tomorrow.

So why don't you grab yourself a good night's rest,

and I'll get you out of here first thing.

All right, folks, here we go.

Mr. Murphy, do you happen to know

if there's any ground transportation

between here and Dawson Forks?

I believe I can answer that.

Unless things have changed, there's a twice-a-week bus.

Right, and the next one isn't till Monday.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher,

I'm gonna get you to Dawson Forks in plenty of time

for your connection, I guarantee it.

Yo, Buzz.

Got anything there for us?

Yeah. Why don't you go ahead?

One parcel.

That'll really pay the rent, huh?

You want a little piece of advice, Berkeley?

Not especially, no.

How about I give it to you anyway?

Your bad attitude ain't helpin' matters.

Thanks.

Six years I'm handling all their business...

Freight, personnel, the whole shot.

This bozo moves in, gives 99% of it

to my competitor in Hudsonville.

All I get are crumbs.

No, don't give it to Sillaman.

Delay the deposition.

I'll be back in two days tops.

Any other messages?

Don't miss Pine Falls while you're here.

Smaller than Niagara, but you stay dryer.

It's a shame you had to come here now,

with the Indians makin' so much trouble.

You take good care of Mrs. Fletcher for me, Marie.

Put it on my tab. Is seven o'clock too early for you?

Oh, I'll be ready, and thank you, Mr. Berkeley.

No problem. Oh, and, Marie,

How about we fly down to Edmonton for a movie Sunday night, huh?

Forget it, Buzz.

Come on.

Can't blame a guy for tryin'.

I don't recommend Dominion if you're looking for a husband.

Oh, Mr. McPherson, you are just up these stairs.

It's the second door on your left.

Listen, since you're stuck for the night,

why don't you let me buy you a bite of dinner?

That's very kind of you, but I think that I...

Uh-uh, no excuses now.

I'm not accustomed to taking no for an answer.

Mr. McPherson, Mrs. Fletcher already has an engagement

for dinner this evening with me.

Yes, I do.

Well, just trying to be friendly, is all.

May I put you under contract?

Maybe you'll let me take you to dinner.

Seven days.

No blasting, no bulldozing, no grading.

You move a pebble at Hobart Creek

any time in the next seven days,

and you're in violation.

Did your clients tell you about stealing our dynamite?

No. Do you have any hard evidence?

Oh, come on. It's obvious!

Obvious doesn't cut it in a court of law, Mr. Shipley.

If I hear you've been making public allegations about it,

you're gonna get hit with a lawsuit for slander.

Head office said you're pretty smart.

Hey.

I don't know how familiar you are

with the local economy around here anymore,

but ever since the lumber mill closed,

- we're about the only game for 40 miles. - So?

So you'd be doin' your clients a real big favor

if you'd let us move forward.

They can't get it through their heads

it'd mean a lot of paychecks for everybody.

You put us out of business,

they'll be screamin' about unemployment.

Even you had to leave here to get a decent job, right?

You oughta ask yourself if you're really...

helpin' your people, Mr. Henderson.

Maybe you already did.

Afternoon, Mrs. Fletcher.

Good afternoon. I'm looking for...

Film. It's right over there.

Marie. Marie called and said she was sending you over.

It's quite an honor, ma'am.

Well, thank you, mister, uh...

Quill, like in feather.

Mr. Quill.

That's very good.

Excuse me, I didn't mean to interrupt you.

What kind of a hawk is that?

It's a northern goshawk.

Don't see many of them around here anymore.

They don't much like blasting.

The film's on the other side of the books.

Grandpa had me put yours at the front.

He's read 'em all twice.

Joe, for God's sakes.

Shipley told me about the dust-up at the creek.

You said you could keep a lid on it.

What do you want?

I stopped it before anyone got hurt, didn't I?

I told you, it's how it looks.

I've been arguing that Aurora Hills is the aggressor.

Billy Nohani sure can testify to that.

Anyway, welcome back.

Oh, congratulations on the injunction, too.

I bet Shipley's about to throw a piston. Can I buy you a beer?

Can you call a Council meeting for tomorrow morning?

No problem.

I said we should've got you into this months ago.

Well, a week doesn't give us any time to relax.

We gotta get moving on this petition.

We're penciled in for Tuesday on the treaty commission docket.

Penciled in?

They carve it in stone, they're still voting their way.

George?

Right. Last time you saw me,

I was in diapers.

Listen, why didn't you just tell the Council the truth?

We've got about as much chance

of the system goin' in our favor

as there is of growin' palm trees in Dominion.

Or are you just hard up for bucks

to keep your BMW in gas and oil?

It's a Jaguar, and that isn't all you're mistaken about.

They're settling claims all over British Columbia

in favor of First Nations.

But if you keep threatening to shoot people,

you're gonna screw it up,

and none of you will ever get your land back.

And if we lay down for 'em,

they'll blast an open pit right through lower creek.

The tailings will kill everything in the river

as far as Dawson Forks.

There won't be a hawk or a wolf or a bear

left between here and Vancouver.

Go back to Toronto, lawyer.

If you don't keep him in line,

I'm outta here tomorrow.

This lousy desert rot you'll check on, huh?

Yeah, I'll check on it today or tomorrow.

Hey-hey!

We were just talkin' about you.

About how you're gettin' to be a bigger

pain in the butt by the minute.

Mr. Shipley's talking to you.

- I've got nothing to say to either of you. - Isn't that something?

Up on the creek this morning, I thought he never would stop yakkin'.

What is it? You need that bunch of losers

to give you courage? Is that what it is?

I'm not afraid of you, Bigfoot.

Come on, you punk, get up.

George?

- Are you all right? - I'm fine.

We should get you to the doctor and call the police.

My word against theirs?

Thanks, Mrs. Fletcher.

The smartest thing you can do is forget about it.

Peter?

- Hilda. - Oh, my God.

I don't believe it.

I'm sorry I startled you.

I guess my vision was clouded.

You don't see too many $1,500 suits around here,

or faces from the past.

Well... except for the uniform,

you haven't changed.

Mm, you have.

Especially your uniform.

You look gorgeous.

The worst part was having my mother say "I told you so."

You know it wasn't you.

I was running away from turning out like my dad,

being an outsider with limited expectations.

So you just went out and reinvented yourself.

Yeah, well, that sort of describes it.

And I suppose one of your reinventing yourself rules

was don't call or write.

Hilda, the place I was in back then...

Hey, hey.

We agreed, no apologies, no recriminations.

Anyway, it seems to have worked.

It can't have been easy, getting through law school

with all that baggage you were dragging.

I was, uh, motivated.

So, uh, you got everything you wanted...

the fancy car, house on the lake,

wife and 2.4 kids?

The car and the condo.

I've been too busy to deal with the rest of it.

Well, this business with the mining company,

and the First Nations' claim on Hobart Creek...

That could take more than motivation.

It might need your passion.

Well, I think I still might be capable of that.

Put a little slack on that creek thing, Joe.

What do you think I was doing out there this morning?

We're both lucky nobody got hurt.

That's not what I'm talking about.

That hotshot lawyer you brought in,

he's just making things worse.

Now the home office has got its back up.

Sounds to me like he's doing his job.

OK, Joe, let me ask you this.

You ever thought about what would happen to this place

if Aurora Hills pulled out altogether?

We are just trying to be good neighbors here.

You just don't get it, do you?

It's not about jobs or money.

It's about our land.

We don't want you people coming out here,

destroying the wildlife, polluting the water,

the land.

It stops now, here, at Hobart Creek.

Give me a break, Joe.

You're saying you're not gonna use that land.

Maybe, but on our terms.

And incidentally, beating up on my grandson

isn't gonna help the situation.

Yeah? Well, he started it.

Or didn't he tell you that part?

He didn't tell me anything.

He didn't have to.

Now get out of my store.

Hey, you listen to me, old man. Let me tell you something.

Next week, that lawyer's gonna be back in his Toronto high rise,

doin' his big city number,

but you and me and your grandson, we're still gonna be here.

You underestimated Peter Henderson once already.

Yeah? Well, that legal tap dancing doesn't travel too well.

Not here.

I can only be pushed so far, Joe.

You wanna be a responsible grandfather?

You tell George just how dangerous it can get out here.

Shipley, you can't teach the wolf

how to live in the forest.

No, you listen!

What it comes out to

is that Henderson has made fools

out of all our big-shot lawyers!

Ready to blast?

Hey, pal, I am ready to blast

just as soon as you untie my hands.

I'll see what I can do.

- Right. - I'll be in touch.

- Later. - Bye.

Ah, this First Nations nonsense.

I don't envy you.

It doesn't want to go away.

Now what were you saying?

You were talking about a bank robbery, Mr. McPherson?

That's correct.

Eleven years ago,

the First Atlantic Bank, it was in Ottawa.

Maybe you heard of it.

Bank's still offering a $25,000 reward.

I don't think I recall it.

Well, a Police Officer was killed,

and the money was never recovered.

Nearly half a million dollars.

The police believe a Nicholas Jensen Davis was the perpetrator.

Of course, he's undoubtedly changed his name.

I, um, I have reason to suspect

that he's somewhere in this part of British Columbia.

Are you a Police Officer?

Mm, retired.

I was in charge of the investigation,

and as you can imagine,

it's been an ongoing source of frustration to me.

This thing going unsolved for all these years,

and a Police Officer killed, and all that.

Helen... That's my wife...

She says it's an obsession.

But I prefer to think of it as tenacity.

So you're after the reward.

Not exactly, Mr. Shipley.

You see, it's my guess that this Davis fella

still has most of the money.

A lot of it was in large denominations, and easily traceable.

And I've got a hunch that he'd be willing to pay

a lot more than the reward to keep his identity secret.

But all this is just a theory, right?

Mm-hm, it was.

Until I saw a photograph in the Ottawa gazette last week.

It was a bunch of Hobart Creek Indians

facing down a representative

of the Aurora Hills mining company.

A Richard Shipley.

Photo's kind of fuzzy,

but I thought it might be worth a trip up here.

And?

And now, I'm convinced...

it'll be worth a lot more than the airplane ticket.

$100,000 more.

That's interesting.

And just what assurances

would this Davis fella have that this would be the end of it?

My word...

and my reputation.

Twenty-five years on the force,

and I never so much as accepted a free cup of coffee!

My needs are real simple, Mr. Shipley.

A small cushion for my missus and myself.

I don't think Mr. Davis has much choice.

Say, uh, eight o'clock?

OK, but not here, at my house.

A cabin on the logging road three miles north of town.

My name's on the mailbox. About 10:00.

Well, um...

I'll need some form of transportation.

Here.

Take my truck. It's out front.

That's very generous of you.

Ten o'clock then.

Mr. Shipley, should anything happen to me,

I have left an account of all this for my missus.

And in case of her having any sort of accident,

I've seen to it that this information

will turn up in the hands of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Jessica, I'm sorry I'm late.

Oh, you're forgiven.

Any resolution to your transportation problems?

Our pilot tells me that the plane may not be repaired

by tomorrow morning.

And that wedding in Vancouver?

4:00 PM.

Even if we got off at dawn as he promised,

it still would be tight.

I am sorry that took so long.

We haven't been this busy since the blizzard,

and what with cooking, and turning down beds,

and waiting tables...

That's all right.

I'll send Rita over to take your order.

Thank you. Well, how's George?

Nobody can find him.

The best thing he could do is stay out of sight

until I get this thing settled.

You're probably wondering why I took this case.

Well, the question had crossed my mind.

And it's fairly obvious that it crossed yours, too.

Trickery and deceit.

Joe Quill did a guilt number on my firm.

Talked 'em into handling the case for way less

than our usual fees.

And then he told 'em I'd put him up to it.

As a token First Nations partner,

they were only too glad to dump it on me.

I can see where it might have a certain P.R. value.

"Indian lawyer goes home to save his people."

You may be in the wrong profession.

Anyway, I got a half a dozen big cases pending.

All I wanna do is get this over with, and get outta here.

Coming home can sometimes open old wounds.

Or make one aware he has no home.

Truth is, I've never felt completely comfortable

in the world I chose to live in.

And now you're reminded

that you don't quite belong in this one, either.

That says it pretty well.

My mom died when I was five.

Dad was an alcoholic.

He was never around much.

Joe Quill more or less raised me.

Well, no wonder he wanted to see you again.

I suspect with feelings as mixed as my own.

I was a handful.

Dad died when I was 17.

I left the next day and never looked back.

Do I detect just a touch of regret?

Just.

OK, guys, be careful where you step.

We'll get a better take on this in the morning.

But I want an exact location on everything,

even if it's a gum wrapper.

Mr. Shipley, I need to double check a couple of things.

Look, Sergeant, I already told you everything I could.

And I appreciate it, Mr. Shipley.

But when Mr. McPherson phoned, did he mention

the name of the company he represented?

Yeah, Federated Equipment.

They're a well-known manufacturer of mining machinery.

I told him I didn't have any free time today.

He said he had to leave first thing in the morning.

So you agreed to meet him here tonight,

and you loaned him the keys to your truck.

It was in town, parked in front of the office.

Told him I'd leave the keys under the seat.

I was at Hobart Creek to make sure the equipment was secure.

And you got here right after the explosion.

Yeah. About a quarter after 10:00.

Saw the explosion from the logging road.

You know, I have to tell you, Sergeant,

This explosion was meant for me,

and I would bet the ranch it was George Quill.

Your stolen dynamite.

Sure makes sense, doesn't it?

- Noon? - Yes, ma'am.

What's the latest it might be?

- Tomorrow. - Oh, dear.

Mr. Berkeley, are you sure

there isn't any alternate transportation?

Just that bus that leaves on Monday.

- I was afraid of that. - I'm sorry.

All right, well, in case you get it fixed

in the next 45 minutes, I will be in the restaurant.

OK, you got it, Mrs. Fletcher.

Thank you.

So what is it that you were looking for?

I'm not sure who he was,

why he was killed.

Well, Sergeant Dupont,

Looks like I'm gonna have plenty of time to answer your questions.

- It's a shame about the plane. - Thanks.

Maybe my luck will improve,

and he'll fix the plane in time.

OK, let's see, um...

Mr. McPherson didn't happen to tell you

why he came to Dominion, did he?

No. No, he didn't.

He might've mentioned it to Peter Henderson. We all flew together.

I know about Mr. Henderson.

Well, I was starting to say that,

as we were checking in, I did happen to notice

the contents of Mr. McPherson's attaché case.

I don't see it here, but I saw what appeared to be

an Ottawa Police Department file folder.

Interesting.

We haven't found an attaché case,

but his wallet ID indicated that he was

a retired Police Officer.

So I can't emphasize this too strongly.

The next two weeks are critical.

Getting past the treaty commission is only part of it.

After that, I'll be making my moves,

and Aurora Hills attorneys will be making theirs.

And if you're making waves back here,

we won't stand a chance in the courts.

So please, for the sake of our goals, and our land,

just hang tight. Thank you.

Listen, I sure hope you can bring this off.

I know I made the right choice, Peter.

So did you.

There was something else.

Something you didn't say in your speech.

Yeah. I hope the hell none of your...

of our people had anything to do with McPherson's death last night.

Peter, Joe, where's George?

I have some questions to ask him.

Yes, the trees are down,

and I'll have it cleared by the weekend.

So you can start on the foundation on Monday, right?

As long as everything's clear.

OK, thanks.

I'm sorry. A new house.

I swear, the pyramids were built faster.

Have you, by any chance, heard from Mr. Berkeley?

No, I haven't.

Ah, there you are, Mrs. Fletcher.

Buzz, Hilda was looking for you.

- About what you know about McPherson. - Nothing.

Just tell her I left already, OK?

- It's fixed? - Gassed and ready to go. We leave now,

you'll make your connection with time to spare.

That's wonderful. I'll just go upstairs and get my bags.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Sergeant Dupont wants you to get over to...

the RCMP station right away.

It was nothing.

I told you to keep your mouth shut!

And I told you I didn't ask you to come here.

I'm sorry to be delaying you like this, Mrs. Fletcher,

- but between the two of them... - Blame me, Jessica.

I didn't wanna see George talk himself into any more trouble.

I understand, Peter.

Look, it was just about over by the time I got there, Sergeant,

so I really don't know who started it,

but Mr. Shipley and the other man...

Brian Wade, from your description and Shipley's statement.

They appeared to have beaten George quite badly.

That doesn't contradict what Shipley and Brian Wade told me, either.

They both stated that George struck the first blow.

- Really? - They're lying.

George isn't exactly famous around here for his caution.

Either way, it just gives him one more reason

for wanting to kill Shipley.

And since you can't account for your whereabouts last night,

or the night the dynamite was stolen

from Aurora Hills Mining...

Peter, if you can't guarantee he's not gonna take off,

I'm gonna have to hold him.

I'll call the firm and have them send out a criminal lawyer.

I don't need a lawyer, damn it.

I didn't kill anybody.

Anyway, thanks for taking the time, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'll be glad to give you a lift over to the landing strip.

Uh, Sergeant Dupont,

you mentioned that the company that Mr. McPherson

supposedly worked for had never heard of him?

Federated Equipment.

Have you recovered his attaché case?

No. Why?

Several things just don't track for me.

I mean, first, why would he have lied to Mr. Shipley?

Mrs. Fletcher, are you suggesting

that Mr. McPherson wasn't murdered by mistake,

that he was the intended victim?

I'm suggesting that you know very little about Mr. McPherson

if you're going to charge George with his murder.

McPherson retired from the police force seven years ago

with an impeccable record,

which doesn't tell us much.

Except it makes me even more curious

about why you haven't found his attaché case.

I'm sure George will eventually clear all that up for us.

You know, that police folder...

I wonder if Mr. McPherson was here on official business.

Why, if he was no longer on the force?

Look, it's all academic anyway.

The man was murdered by mistake,

by George Quill, whose intended victim was Rick Shipley.

Now come on.

We better be getting you to your plane.

Unless...

Sergeant, would it take you too far out of your way

to stop by the murder site for just a few minutes?

You said two eyewitnesses placed Shipley on the logging road

just before they heard the explosion.

Yes, neither of whom even like the man.

Well, there's no evidence of a trip wire.

So even if the charge could've been detonated with a timer,

Mr. Shipley would've had no way of knowing

when the victim would arrive.

Exactly.

The killer had to have watched Mr. McPherson

get out of the truck and cross the footbridge from right about here.

With this wire strung over to an explosive charge

fastened to the bridge.

And the detonating device?

We're assuming a plunger or a battery.

So far, we haven't found a trace of either one.

You won't find any footprints, either.

Ground's too hard.

Better be careful, city boy.

Your roots are showing.

Here's a piece of yellow paint.

Could be enamel of some sort.

I'll send it to Edmonton for analysis.

Jessica, if you're gonna get to Vancouver in time for that wedding...

Thanks, Hilda. You're right.

Peter, I hope everything turns out...

for you, and the Hobart Creek band, and George.

I appreciate that, Jessica.

I wish I could say I was certain he didn't do it.

And believe me, so do I.

My God, I've known George since he was...

Unit three, calling unit one.

Unit three, calling unit one.

- Unit one here. What have you got? - Your killer, Sergeant.

The case of dynamite that was stolen from Aurora Hills Mining.

I just found it, buried under the floor of George Quill's cabin.

There are exactly three sticks of dynamite missing.

OK, then there must've been three sticks missing

when I took it. I never looked inside.

And I did not kill anybody!

Then why did you steal the dynamite?

I hoped it would keep them from blowing up the creek

for a few more days.

From killing all those animals,

and frightening the others,

and destroying their homes.

George, didn't you realize that the mining company

had additional explosives?

It was the only case in the office.

I figured I got it all.

We'll know if George is telling the truth

as soon as Shipley returns my call.

All right, I'll try Shipley again.

Yeah. Brian Wade here.

Is Mr. Shipley in?

No, I haven't seen him.

Maybe you can help me.

Do you keep an exact inventory of the dynamite stock?

Usually, yeah.

Thing is, since the trouble with the Indians started,

we haven't been running a real tight ship around here.

So we don't have an exact record

of how much of that dynamite we've used lately.

Thanks, Brian.

Tell Rick to call me anyway when you see him.

Sergeant, I don't think he's gonna be calling anybody.

Have you seen this before, Mr. Wade?

Yeah, he kept it in his desk.

Would you say he's been depressed lately?

Not that I could tell, no.

You didn't like him much, did you?

That's not what he paid me for.

Aurora Hills Mining, Sergeant Dupont speaking.

Can Shipley come to the phone?

No, he can't come to the phone.

Two hours ago, he booked a seat.

- Really. - Yeah, to Dawson Forks.

Well, I don't think he's gonna make it.

- He won't make the flight? - Right.

Great.

Well, that's interesting.

Two hours ago, Rick Shipley books a seat

on Buzz Berkeley's flight to Dawson Forks.

He packs a suitcase in a hurry,

as if he was running away from someone or something,

and then he kills himself?

Hilda, I think we should put in a call to the Ottawa police.

You're reading my mind.

Joe, look on the bright side.

At least we know George couldn't have killed Rick Shipley,

and so does Hilda.

But all that, what do you call it,

circumstantial evidence,

they could convict him on that, couldn't they?

Well, yes, they could, Mr. Quill, but...

Peter, Jessica, that stuff came in from Ottawa.

First off, Ottawa PD says McPherson worked on a bank robbery investigation

eleven years ago that was never solved.

The First Atlantic Bank.

And there's still a reward being offered

for the apprehension of a man named Nicholas Jensen Davis.

Which could be why McPherson was here, looking for Davis.

I took your suggestion and phoned McPherson's widow.

She confirms that this case has been a preoccupation of his for years.

But why would he lie to Rick Shipley?

Why not just admit he was after his fugitive?

Suppose he didn't lie, Peter?

Suppose Rick Shipley lied to Hilda?

Of course.

He was the fugitive,

and he wasn't after the reward money. It was blackmail.

I wish I had your intuition, Jessica.

Nicholas Jensen Davis' mug shot.

Rick Shipley, eleven years ago.

That's why he wanted to leave town.

The Ottawa Star forwarded me their stories on the robbery.

They're not much help.

Maybe Shipley had McPherson killed by someone else.

You know, like a hired assassin.

I don't know, Joe.

Damn thing's got me totally stumped.

Anyway, I'm afraid George is still...

Stumped.

I think that's it.

That's what?

Hilda, those red and yellow batteries over there,

are they the kind that could've been used

to set off that dynamite charge?

Absolutely. But...

Have you sent off the yellow chip of paint to Edmonton yet?

- No. - Good,

because I don't think it will be necessary.

I don't believe that Rick Shipley committed suicide.

I think both he and Hamish McPherson

were victims of the same killer.

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher.

We still have time if you wanna get out of here.

Well, my plans have changed, Buzz.

I don't think we'll be flying out today.

OK, whatever.

All I can say is you picked a rare time

to visit Dominion, Mrs. Fletcher.

The whole ten years I've been here,

there hasn't been this much goin' on.

Well, it's certainly been a lot more dramatic

than I expected it to be.

It really is a shame you're missing that wedding and all.

Well, it turns out that the bride and groom

aren't leaving on their honeymoon

till tomorrow afternoon,

so I'll be there in time to wish them bon voyage.

Speaking of weddings,

that photo that I saw on the counter when I checked in,

what happened to it?

Oh, it fell.

The glass broke.

I haven't had a chance to get it fixed yet.

I don't think that's true, Marie.

What do you mean?

I think that you've simply hidden it.

Why would I do that?

So that nobody around here would recognize

that your late husband was the Police Officer

who was killed in that Ottawa bank robbery eleven years ago,

and possibly make the connection that you might have murdered

both Hamish McPherson and Rick Shipley.

You must've loved him very much

to kill two people on his behalf.

You're joking with me, right?

Why would I want to kill either one of them?

Mr. McPherson, I never even met him until yesterday.

You didn't intend to murder him.

You thought you were killing Shipley,

who murdered your husband...

Constable Frank Naismith.

All right.

Frank was my husband.

We were married less than two years.

But I didn't kill anyone.

Yes, you did, Marie.

And this will prove it.

A telltale paint chip that will correspond

to the one that's missing from the battery

you've been using to blast the tree stumps on your property.

The same battery you used last night to detonate the dynamite.

Your dynamite that killed Hamish McPherson.

God.

I have been face-to-face with Shipley every day...

every day since he got here.

What, four or five years?

That man destroyed my life,

and I never even knew.

How did you know I'd been dynamiting tree stumps?

This morning when I stopped here at the desk.

You were talking on the phone.

Yes, the trees are down.

I'll have it cleared by the weekend.

So you can start on the foundation on Monday, right?

It didn't register with me at the time

any more than the fact that the photograph

of you and Frank, which was on this desk

when I checked in yesterday, was missing this morning.

The bridge was a mistake.

I didn't mean to kill McPherson.

No, but when Shipley got home and discovered

McPherson's body, he realized he was the real target.

Sure. He thought George was trying to kill him,

and he thought he'd done him a favor by getting rid of McPherson.

I have a feeling it was one of those...

good news, bad news situations for Shipley.

I'm sure that Mr. McPherson was smart enough

to have warned Shipley that he had himself covered,

that if anything were to happen to McPherson,

Shipley's secret wasn't safe anymore.

That's why Shipley was hurrying to leave town.

You took McPherson's attaché case.

Don't you see?

If you find the file, you get Shipley.

You can arrest him.

Well, I didn't want that.

That man killed my husband.

I wanted him for myself.

Yes, you did,

and you went after him,

this time, successfully.

Using Shipley's own gun, you shot him,

and then, you put the weapon in his hand,

making it look like suicide.

Eleven years.

That's a long time.

Every minute of it, thinking what my life

would be like with Frank.

He was a good man.

He was just doing his job.

He didn't deserve to die.

OK, well, we're off at last, Mrs. Fletcher.

Yeah.

Jessica, my office just called.

The northern goshawks that George saw in Lower Creek...

They're on the endangered species red list.

There'll be an extended moratorium on any mining in the area.

They say it could be years.

Long enough for our claim to be recognized.

Ah, George, that's wonderful!

Thanks, Mrs. Fletcher, for everything.

That goes for me, too.

Now, I'm hoping to persuade Hilda to let George off

on that dynamite theft in return for community service.

Ha!

You think you can pull that off from a high rise in Toronto?

Actually, I was thinking it might be better

if I stay down here for a while.

For my client, of course.

Of course.

Plus, there is some old business I need to wrap up.

Really? Well, just keep in mind,

this is my home.

Hey, it's mine, too. Well, one of 'em anyway.