Original subtitles

Well-known author, Jessica Fletcher,

has been arrested in the town of Bremerton.

Jessica, we can help you investigate.

I'll dig up some background on her.

What happens next?

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

I know you got a reputation for solving crimes and all,

but right now you're in my territory.

I feel I'm committing a serious breach

of medical ethics.

Bertie, you know these files are very confidential.

Oh, chill out, Jessica.

Hold it right there, ma'am.

Well, let's see.

I should have that card right here under "Spaniels."

Well, here it is, Springer Spaniels.

Larkin's Prince Regent, bred by Simon McCauley

over in Bremerton.

Here's the address.

Can't imagine what kind of mystery

you're gonna be writing about hunting dogs,

but I hope I helped.

You have indeed.

Well, I never read any of your books myself.

My mama's got them all.

She sure'd be tickled pink if I could get your autograph.

Thank you very much, Mrs. Fletcher.

Always glad to accommodate my public.

Well, I guess I'm off to Bremerton.

Well, it's getting late.

It will be dark by the time you get out there.

I'll manage.

Thanks again for everything.

- My pleasure. - Bye!

I knew it.

I just knew it!

Hold it right there, ma'am.

You'll be notified of your court date.

Until then, try to stay out of trouble, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, well, of course.

- Oh, Kit, darling. - Are you all right?

I'm just fine. Thank you for coming.

Well, thanks for everything.

Oh, before I go, would you like my autograph?

We have to run. Thank you so much.

No, really, get out of here.

Bye!

Well, I guess I should be grateful

Dwayne's away on business.

Least I won't have to explain leaving the house at 5:00 a.m.

so I could drive over to Bremerton

and bail crazy Marge out of jail.

Oh, pooh. It's no big deal.

You told them you were Jessica Fletcher!

Well, I had to.

Can you imagine what would happen

if somebody found out that Senator Allen's mother

got nailed on a "B" and "E"? Whoo-ee!

Why, they'd just laugh him right out of the state house.

What were you doing there, anyway?

What Jessica would be doing, cracking the case.

Oh, come on, Kit, time's a-wasting.

Let's move it.

That's it.

That's it. That's the truck I saw.

Kit, honey,

my car's only a few blocks from here,

over by the kennel.

Drive me over, okay?

Marge Allen,

didn't getting arrested teach you anything?

Well, it certainly did.

To check for silent alarms.

Now, are you going to drive me or do I have to walk?

Let's go.

I'm coming!

So you thought you'd get away with it, didn't you?

What? Who are you?

- As if you didn't know. - What are you talking about?

And where is your partner in crime?

I'm sure he'd like to hear this too.

Look, lady, I don't know what you think you know,

but I'm telling you to get out of here right now,

or I'm calling the sheriff.

Good, you do that.

'Cause, lady, if you don't call the sheriff,

I will.

Oh, no.

Are you enjoying your stay in big "D", Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, yes.

The book-signing yesterday was a lot of fun.

- Thank you very much. - Thank you.

You all have a nice trip home now.

You bet.

Through a spokesman,

Mr. Bishop denied any allegations of wrongdoing.

This just in.

Well-known author, Jessica Fletcher,

has been arrested in the town of Bremerton.

According to authorities,

the mystery writer would not explain

why she broke into the offices of a local kennel.

Fletcher was released on bail early this morning.

Now let's find out what's happening in sports.

Sheriff's office, Sheriff Tanner speaking.

Yes, sheriff, this is Jessica Fletcher.

I'm calling because there's been a terrible mistake.

Well, ma'am, the way I see it,

everybody's entitled to at least one.

Long as you stick to the straight and narrow

from here on, I think everything should be just fine.

No, no, no, no, no, you've got it all wrong.

You didn't arrest the real Jessica Fletcher last night.

That was someone else.

Look, ma'am, if you're going for

one of those split-personality defenses

that's strictly between you and your lawyer.

You know what I mean?

My job's just to make sure you show up at the hearing.

But you don't understand, sheriff.

I'll see you in court, Mrs. Fletcher.

Hello, this is Jessica Fletcher in room 417.

I need to get to Bremerton,

where I was not arrested last night.

Hello, hello, there. Anybody here?

- Sheriff Tanner? - Yes, ma'am.

What can I do for you?

Well, we talked on the phone a couple of hours ago.

I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, is that so?

Well, I suppose you've got a driver's license

to prove that, don't you?

Well, no, actually I don't. You see, I don't drive.

But I do have identification.

Here's my ID card.

There you go.

Now, the lady we had in here last night had ID

and it was real similar to this.

Well, here are my credit cards,

I've got receipts made out in my name,

I've got my Cabot Cove library card.

Let me tell you something. See, these are just paper.

I mean, this doesn't prove anything.

Sheriff, do you have a bookstore anywhere nearby?

A bookstore?

Well, no, the closest thing we got

is a drugstore across the way.

They got a couple of racks of paperbacks.

I'll be right back.

You see? It's me.

Well, I guess I'll have to change that arrest record

to Jane Doe.

Oh, thank you.

Now, what do we do next?

As far as I'm concerned, nothing.

But what about the woman who was impersonating me?

Don't you want to know who she really is?

We'll take care of whatever

needs taking care of, Mrs. Fletcher.

But I want to thank you for coming in.

Well, perhaps you could tell me

who bailed her out.

Perhaps you could stop wasting my time.

Thank you.

Kit Parkins.

15 Longacre Street,

Sunville, Texas.

Here you go.

Thank you very much and please keep the change.

Well, much obliged, and Mrs. Fletcher,

there's no doubt in my mind you got a bum rap.

- Excuse me. - My land! It's you.

I beg your pardon?

I just can't believe my eyes.

Oh, come in, come in.

Well, perhaps I better explain.

My name is Jessica--

Oh, we all know what your name is.

All of us do.

Ladies, look who just dropped in.

J.B. Fletcher, in the flesh!

My God, I don't believe it.

Mrs. Fletcher, we're your biggest fans.

How did you ever arrange this, dear?

And you're right here in Sunville.

Oh, wait till I tell Mom.

You look just like yourself.

Hold on, you're not one of those

celebrity impersonators, are you?

Oh, no, no, I really am Jessica Fletcher.

Although I've had a hard time

proving it to anyone just lately.

- And you are? - Oh, excuse my manners.

- I'm Kit Parkins. - And I'm Florence.

- Caroline. - And I'm Jane.

And I would just love your autograph.

- Oh, me too. - Me too.

Oh, let me take your purse.

Oh, thank you.

Come on, J.B., take a load off.

Here, here, sit right there, dear.

Oh, we're so thrilled to have you.

Well, now, Kit,

what exactly is all this?

Why, this is the weekly meeting

of the J.B. Fletcher literary society.

I thought you knew.

Well, believe me,

this is the first I've heard of it.

Well, then, why are you here?

Because according to the sheriff in Bremerton,

Kit posted bail early this morning

for Jessica Fletcher of Cabot Cove, Maine.

Oh, my God.

You were arrested?

No, it was Marge.

Marge?

Kit, you never told us that Marge got arrested.

No.

Well, if she'd wanted you all to know,

she wouldn't have used her J.B. Fletcher ID,

now, would she?

Her J.B. Fletcher ID?

My family runs a little print shop.

We all like to pretend like we're you, you know,

solving mysteries the way you do.

So I made us up each a picture ID,

just for fun.

And Marge's son, Ronald, is a state senator,

very stuffy, no sense of humor at all,

so when Marge got caught,

she told the sheriff she was you.

Hmm, I see.

Ladies, will you do me a great favor?

Get rid of those ID cards immediately.

- Oh, absolutely. - Yes, ma'am.

You're right.

- There it is. - Here's mine.

Thank you, thank you.

Now, Kit,

can you tell me why Marge broke into the kennel?

Oh, she's got a bee in her bonnet

about Bella Mae Feldhammer.

Bella Mae's dog, Prince,

has won the amateur field trials three years running,

and Marge thinks she's cheating.

Because she's beaten Marge's dog?

Oh, Marge doesn't have a dog.

Just an overdeveloped sense of fair play.

Anyway, she told me this morning

that she had cracked the case.

Well, I think that I'd better have a little chat with Marge.

Oh, no!

Poor Marge.

I just can't believe it.

Marge of all people.

It says here

that she apparently lost control of her car

driving on Wills Creek Road, outside of Bremerton

and crashed into the ditch.

A passing motorist found the body

and presumably the ID card.

Lost control?

That's a load of fertilizer.

Marge drove that road all of her life.

What was she doing out on Wills Creek Road?

Yeah, she should have been on County 14

if she was heading back home to Sunville.

Kit, exactly what happened after you bailed her out?

Well, she had me drive her to the McCauley house.

Those are the people who run the kennels.

Then Marge recognized a truck that was parked there,

and she got all excited

and had me take her back to her own car.

That's the last time I ever saw her.

Oh, darling, Jane.

Did she tell you where she was going?

Back to the McCauley house.

She was hell-bent

on confronting them with her evidence,

whatever that was.

But you have no proof that she ever got there.

Well, it might be worth

making a trip to find out.

I'll take you.

I'll be happy to drive you, Miss Fletcher.

I'll be happy to drive you over.

Somebody in the neighborhood must be having a party.

Are you all right?

Oh, yeah.

Marge isn't the first friend I've lost

and she won't be the last,

but she was the best.

I was wrong about the party.

Mrs. Fletcher,

I'm kind of surprised to see you here.

Sheriff, I should have called you earlier.

In the confusion...

did you read the newspaper?

Oh, damn fool reporter.

Now, he ran that story without checking his facts.

That car was registered to Miss Allen.

We found her driver's license in the glove compartment.

You mind telling me what you all are doing here?

Well, we came to talk to Mr. And Mrs. McCauley.

After she got out of jail this morning,

Marge came over here to see them.

Yeah, well, there's no way she could have seen Simon.

'Cause he was killed in a hunting accident

late yesterday afternoon.

Oh, how awful.

Was he shot by another hunter?

No, by his dog.

Yeah, from the looks of things,

he must have leaned his gun against the tree

and the dog knocked it over.

Shot hit him square in the back at close range.

Oh, that's Mrs. McCauley over there.

Who's the young man that she's talking to?

And just why do you want to know that, Miss Fletcher?

It's a character flaw.

I'm curious about everything.

His name's Rick.

He works in the kennels.

He grooms the dogs and feeds them.

Oh, I see.

Listen, Mrs. Fletcher,

now, I don't want to hear

that you've been pestering Mrs. McCauley.

Oh, of course not.

While I'm here, I'd like to pay my respects.

Now, what the Sam Hill is he doing here?

Excuse me, ma'am.

That's Mitchell Lawrence, the insurance agent.

We have our homeowner's policy with him.

- Well, howdy, Miss Parkins. - Hi, Mr. Lawrence.

This is my friend, Jessica Fletcher.

Jessica Fletcher?

Why, didn't I read that...

Yes, you did, but it was a mistake.

Actually, the woman in the car was a friend of Kit's.

Oh, I'm sorry.

This must be a doubly sad day for you, Miss Parkins.

Did you know Simon well?

Actually, I never met him.

It's a long story.

Was Mr. McCauley a close friend of yours,

Mr. Lawrence?

Well, I knew him for years,

but it'd be a stretch to say we were close.

Simon didn't care too much for people.

His best friends were of the canine variety.

Well, if you'll excuse me, I got to be going.

Kit, I'm going to try and have a talk

with Mrs. McCauley.

Do you mind waiting for me here?

No, go.

And I'll keep a lookout for anything unusual.

Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.

Mrs. McCauley?

Yes?

I'm terribly sorry to intrude on your grief,

and this may not be the best time,

but there's something very important

that I have to clear up.

A woman was arrested last night for breaking into your kennel.

The sheriff told me.

Well, as it turns out, she was using my name,

Jessica Fletcher.

And I wanted to be quite sure that you knew

that I had nothing to do with it.

Thanks, but that's really

the last thing on my mind right now.

Yes, yes, of course, yes.

I quite understand it.

It must have been very upsetting

when she showed up this morning

asking to see your husband.

No one came here this morning,

except for the sheriff.

Oh.

Well, I must have been misinformed.

You see, the lady was killed in a car crash

several hours ago.

That's too bad.

Mrs. McCauley,

do you have any idea of why someone

would break into your kennel?

No, there was nothing valuable in the office,

just paperwork, breeding records,

things like that.

Well, I guess we'll never find out

what the lady was thinking.

Probably just some gray-haired, old wacko.

Mrs. McCauley?

Just wanted you to know, ma'am,

I'm mighty sorry about your loss.

Even under these circumstances.

How very kind.

Would you excuse me?

I'm feeling a bit worn out.

Ma'am.

Psst! Jessica.

Oh, Kittie,

what are you doing there?

Keeping the room under surveillance.

You know, I was watching the sheriff

and that big fella.

And I couldn't hear a word, darn it,

but I don't think the sheriff likes him much.

Well, I don't think that Mrs. McCauley liked him either.

She was more than a little rude to him just now.

What'd she say about Marge?

Well, she said that no one came here this morning.

That can't be.

I knew Marge Allen 30 years,

and when she decided to do something,

she did it.

Well, I'll take your word for it.

I don't think that we should outwear our welcome, you know.

Excuse me, ladies.

I apologize for the sloppy parking.

I'll get it right out of your way.

Oh, thank you, Mr...

Willoughby, Boone Willoughby.

And that there is Roscoe.

Hey, say hello, Roscoe.

I'll bet that's one of Mr. McCauley's dogs.

Yep, raised and trained.

Although I've taught him a few tricks of my own, now.

You're a hunter, then?

Well, in my spare time.

I'm with the Highway Patrol,

I've been trying to form a K-9 unit,

and I wanted McCauley to be the trainer.

But he wasn't interested?

Well, that's what he said every time I asked.

Well, as long as I'm out this way

I think I'll hang around for a couple of days

and see if I can bag myself some quail.

Nice to see you.

You know, he talks a good game,

but he doesn't say much.

My thoughts exactly.

So Lisa McCauley didn't tell you anything?

Oh, on the contrary,

she told me that she did see Marge early this morning.

But she said she didn't.

But she also said

that Marge must have been "a gray-haired, old wacko."

Now, I never mentioned Marge's age,

so how did she know what color her hair was

unless she had seen her?

Wow, Jessica Fletcher in action.

So what happens next?

Well, I have a hunch that there's a connection

between Simon McCauley's death and Marge's accident.

I'd like to stick around for a couple of days

and satisfy my curiosity.

Oh, good!

Well, Jessica, we-- We can help you investigate.

Now, I have a nephew that works

for the same insurance company as Mitchell Lawrence.

I'll just bet you that I can get the password from him.

Well, I'm something of a computer whiz, you know.

And my husband works in the county coroner's office.

I know I can get a peek at the autopsy reports.

And I'll dig up some background on McCauley.

And I'll--

Well, I don't know right now, but I'll do something.

Well, thank you, ladies, thank you.

I appreciate your help,

but I think that I should take my suspicions

through the proper channels first.

There's no reason to believe that Marge Allen's death

was anything but an accident.

But don't you think it's the slightest bit unusual

that she was headed for the McCauley's

the last time she was seen alive?

But Lisa said she didn't see her.

- Yes, well... - Look, Mrs. Fletcher.

Now, I know you got a reputation for solving crimes and all,

but right now you're in my territory.

And if there's any investigating to be done,

I'll do it.

Got me?

What do you mean, my card's been cancelled?

Well, that's what the box says, lady.

Sorry.

It's all a silly mix-up.

Look, I know that it said in the local paper

that I'd been killed,

but obviously I wasn't since I'm standing right here.

Well, it don't matter.

If the box says you've been cancelled,

you've been cancelled.

This is so frustrating.

How could this happen?

I suppose that newspaper report

got picked up by the wire services.

It's probably all over the country by now.

Oh, no.

Oh, Seth, just listen to me for a moment, will you?

I've called Grady in New York,

and he'll contact my family.

My publisher will handle the media.

You take care of Cabot Cove.

Well, make it easy on yourself.

Just go tell the girls down at Loretta's beauty parlor,

and I'll call you tomorrow.

Okay. Thanks.

So what's the next move?

Well, a good night's sleep.

Then we'll get up first thing early tomorrow morning

and borrow a dog.

Butch, come on, baby, come on, darling,

come on, get up on the table. Here, good boy.

He doesn't mind you very well, does he?

Oh, no, he is one big problem.

Perhaps y'all can do something about him here.

I've heard just raves about this kennel

from my friend Bella Mae Feldhammer.

I wouldn't know her.

Well, perhaps it was Marge Allen.

Mr. McCauley did all the training, ma'am,

I'm just the groomer.

Oh, yeah, I was so sad to hear

about poor Mr. McCauley.

I'd heard such wonderful things about him.

Not unless dogs have learned how to talk.

Oh, really?

Oh, I thought he was...

Now, your dog will be ready in a couple of hours, ma'am.

Fine, thank you very much.

Okay.

Okay, the coast is clear.

I got your message. What's up?

Take a look at these.

Florence, did you take these reports

from the coroner's office?

I know I said I was just going to peek at them

but the copy machine was sitting right there.

Kit, look. Look right here.

Oh, my gosh.

What is it?

Marge couldn't have been

driving that car when it crashed.

This says they found her glasses in her purse

and she always wore them when she drove.

It's a real clue.

It certainly is.

Oh, how odd.

Another clue?

Well, something quite unusual.

Oh, dear, I'm going to be late for Herman's lunch.

I'll keep in touch.

Oh, thank you, dear.

- Bye. - Bye.

Afternoon, ladies.

Oh, hello, Mr. Willoughby.

Looks like you have something mighty important

in that envelope.

Whatever do you mean?

Oh, I was sitting over there in the corner,

and I saw that lady in the dark glasses

slip it to you.

You both seemed pretty excited about it.

Actually, it's just some research on a book.

Oh, are you a writer, ma'am?

Jessica Fletcher is one of the preeminent mystery writers

of the United States.

Jessica Fletcher?

Weren't you supposed to be...

No, I'm not dead.

That was an error.

Mr. Willoughby, I'm curious about something

I heard you saying to Lisa McCauley yesterday.

When you were offering your sympathies

on the death of her husband,

you added "even under the circumstances."

What circumstances?

Stupidity.

No right-thinking hunter

would ever lean a loaded gun up against a tree.

No, Simon McCauley died of pure carelessness.

Well, I have to admit that it did seem mighty odd to me

that a dog could knock over a gun

and cause it to fire.

Oh, you never know what a dog might do,

especially if you've trained him right.

Nice seeing you ladies.

Oh, sheriff.

Miss Fletcher,

I'd think you'd have something better to do

than just waste my time.

Well, this won't take long.

Now, I understand that Simon McCauley's body

was found lying face down on the ground.

Yeah, what of it?

Well, the coroner removed a hunting jacket from the body

which was soaked with blood on the right side

which would indicate

that the body was lying on its right side

after it was hit with the shotgun blast.

Wait, wait, wait, wait a minute.

Just where'd you get all this information?

Well, I'm sorry, but I can't reveal my sources.

Oh, you can't?

You know, Mrs. Fletcher,

I'd be well within my rights

to throw you in that lockup back there

just for interfering with police business.

But because I'm such a nice guy,

I'm just gonna let you go with a warning.

This doesn't concern you, Mrs. Fletcher.

Now, keep out of it.

I bet the pay's not great,

but the fringe benefits dynamite.

Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?

It's Mrs. Fletcher, isn't it?

Yes, I've come for my dog.

I'll go get him, ma'am.

Your dog?

I was under the impression that you're from out of town.

Oh, she is.

It's really my dog.

Jessica brought him in for grooming

as a surprise to me.

You are an angel.

Anything wrong, sheriff?

Well, looks like maybe I was.

Mrs. Fletcher,

after you left,

I got to thinking about what you'd said.

So I ran it past our coroner,

and he's inclined to agree with your theory.

So Mr. McCauley wasn't shot out in the fields.

Yeah, well, if he died where he fell,

he should have bled all over

the front and back of his jacket.

Seems we got a murder on our hands.

I can't believe I let you

talk me into coming all the way out here.

Well, if I'm right,

you'll have another piece of evidence.

Mm-hmm. What I haven't got is good suspects.

Both Rick and Lisa

claim to have been home alone when McCauley was killed.

Well, there's your spot.

I reckon his chest was about right there.

If he really was shot here,

a great deal of blood should have

soaked into the ground where he fell.

But the lab report will tell us that.

Operator, it's all a misunderstanding.

I'm not dead.

How can I prove it?

Well, I'm talking to you, aren't I?

Hello? Hello? Hello!

Something wrong, Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I got cut off!

I mean, do you believe

that they've cancelled my phone card

all because of that report in the newspaper?

Well, is there anything I can do?

Well, how about skywriting

"Jessica Fletcher is alive and well"?

Well, I'm afraid that's beyond me,

but I'd be glad to offer you the use of my phone.

Oh, I'll take it.

- Come with me. - Thank you.

You see, if I'd come home when I planned to,

I wouldn't be so short of cash.

Well, would you send it

to the Western Union here in Bremerton?

Yes, Seth. I'm good for it.

Thanks.

I'll see you soon.

You've had quite an eventful little visit

in our sleepy little town, haven't you?

To say the least.

Now, rumor has it that Simon McCauley's death

might not have been an accident.

News travels as fast here as it does in Cabot Cove.

Yes, there is some question.

In fact, Sheriff Tanner is taking some evidence

to the lab in Dallas right now.

Well, I'd better notify my home office.

If murder's involved, we can't pay any benefits

until the case is resolved.

No, I can certainly understand that.

Did Mr. McCauley have a very large policy?

Pretty standard.

Mrs. McCauley should be provided for.

Oh, there's Kit.

Thanks so much for the use of the phone.

My pleasure, Mrs. Fletcher.

- You all come back now. - You bet.

You find anything interesting

in those old newspapers, Caroline?

Yeah, a sale I missed at Bed and Bath-o-rama.

Oh, shoot.

I don't know how in the world

we're going to replace Simon McCauley.

Jane, I never realized that you were a friend of his.

Oh, I didn't mean him personally.

I meant his blood.

You see, I'm the area coordinator

for the blood bank,

and he was our only type B-negative donor.

Well, that is a very rare type.

Well, it certainly is.

I did it. I did it.

Oh, Jessica, you would have been so proud of me.

I got the password

for the insurance company's files from my nephew.

Bertie, you know these files are very confidential.

I don't think it's quite ethical

to be accessing them this way.

Oh, chill out, Jessica.

We've got a murder to solve here.

You know, I just realized something.

The McCauley truck

was at the house when Marge and I drove past there,

but this says it was parked in the field near the body.

Well, then the body was probably taken there

sometime after six in the morning.

Oh, Florence, you get anything out of Bella Mae?

No, she still says she trained that dog herself.

I really put the pressure on her too.

I gave her my best Jessica Fletcher technique.

Really?

But I don't go around putting the pressure on people.

Jessica, come here, we're in. Come here.

This is so exciting.

I'm getting McCauley's file up now.

Here, just a second.

There.

Land sakes alive! Look at that!

Now, it says here

that Simon McCauley's life insurance policy

was raised to two million dollars just a couple of months ago.

Oh!

Unfaithful wife and a big insurance policy.

Ladies, I think we got us a motive.

Well, you were right on the money, Mrs. Fletcher.

The lab analysis showed very little blood

in that dirt from the murder scene.

McCauley had to have been killed someplace else.

Yeah, we think we know who plugged him.

What was that?

Uh, Mrs. Parkins and I happened to be at the kennel.

We saw Mrs. McCauley and Rick

in a rather compromising position.

And we've learned that there was a two-million-dollar policy

taken out on Simon McCauley's life.

Is that a fact?

Tanner here. Lucas, you copy?

Yeah. Yes, sheriff, what's up?

I'm over at the McCauley place.

I just saw Rick tear out of here on his bike

like something big and ugly was chasing him.

I think you better pick him up.

Will do.

Yeah, and send me some backup, will you?

Something doesn't smell right.

Mrs. McCauley?

Sheriff, I'm about to give up here.

If anybody was killed in this house

except for that lady upstairs, well,

somebody did a bang-up job

of removing any traces of the crime.

Or Simon McCauley was killed someplace else.

Well, if I was gonna set an ambush,

I would do it right here.

Mr. McCauley kept his shotgun shells in that cabinet.

If he came down here to get some,

the killer simply had to walk out

from underneath these stairs

to shoot him in the back.

Well, that's a tidy scenario, Mrs. Fletcher.

Unfortunately, it's not backed up

with any physical evidence.

Well, maybe we're overlooking something.

I mean, something obvious,

something in plain sight.

Could I borrow your flashlight for a moment, deputy?

- Yeah, sure. - Thank you.

Now, would you mind running upstairs

and turning off the switch

that controls that light?

- Sheriff? - Oh, sure.

We got nothing but time.

Now, if I'm not mistaken...

yeah, just as I thought.

Dried specks of blood.

Well, I'll be damned.

Yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am.

I mean, you couldn't see the blood flecks before

because of the glare of the bulb.

All right, Mrs. Fletcher,

you call this one, okay?

Sheriff, I'm not trying to compete with you.

I just want to help in any way that I can.

Well, you have. You've been a help.

I mean, it's a good possibility that McCauley was killed

in the basement.

Unfortunately, the coroner is upstairs

zipping one of my prime suspects

into a big oversized baggie.

Yes, has he determined how Lisa died?

Strangled.

From the way she was dressed,

I'd say that she was expecting whoever did it.

I can't wait for Rick to try and come up with an alibi.

I told you, I didn't kill Lisa.

She was dead when I got there.

You mind telling me why you thought

you could just walk right into her bedroom?

We...

we had a thing.

You had a what?

We had a thing.

- A thing? - Yeah, you know.

Simon would take some of the dogs out for fieldwork

every afternoon around four.

I'd lock up the kennel. I'd meet Lisa at the house.

She'd always leave the door open for me.

Today when I got there and I saw her...

I just got scared and I took off.

I didn't even get down to the house until around ten after four.

Oh, come on now, Rick, it was only about 4:15

when I saw you leaving the McCauley place.

Well, that's hardly enough time

to get to the house and commit murder.

Sheriff,

I just spoke with Miss Hidalgo,

and she says she was with Rick at the kennel until ten after four.

So, Rick has an alibi

and the sheriff is stymied.

That's it?

I'm afraid so.

But the lab reported

that the blood on the light bulb

was Simon McCauley's type. B-negative.

I thought we'd figured it all out.

Lisa and Rick killed Simon for the insurance money,

then Rick got greedy and killed Lisa.

It was perfect.

Well, not really.

I mean, Lisa never received the insurance settlement,

and Mr. Lawrence said

that it would probably be held up.

I mean, what reason would Rick have for killing her?

To cover his tail?

Well, maybe,

but I don't think he's the type.

On the other hand,

I do think that Lisa was involved

in her husband's murder,

particularly as it took place in their home.

But she had to have help.

That's right.

I mean, there's no possible way

she could have carried the body

up the cellar stairs all by herself.

And then somebody had to go along

to bring her back to town

'cause they left the truck

in the field with the body.

Oh, you're absolutely right.

But there's one thing that bothers me.

Now, how does Marge fit into all this?

Oh, Jessica, I'm ashamed to say it,

but I almost forget about Marge.

And she's the reason you got involved in all of this.

I mean, when Marge went to the McCauleys' house,

Simon most probably had just been killed.

Maybe she saw something she oughtn't.

- Or someone. - But who?

It could have been practically anyone.

Bertie, do you still have the read-out

of that insurance information?

Right here.

Now, when I first read this, there was something

that I couldn't quite remember.

What is it, Jessica?

Something important?

Something very important.

We have to get in touch with Jane at work, right away.

Well, I certainly hope that Dr. Dunn

doesn't catch me out here with these files.

Oh, lighten up, Jane. They're not medical records.

They're just donor lists from a blood drive.

Well, still, I feel I'm committing

a serious breach of medical ethics.

Well, if it's any consolation,

you have just helped to expose a murderer.

Oh!

Mrs. Fletcher, I wasn't expecting to see you.

Hope you don't mind. I let myself in.

No, that's fine.

So what brings you here?

You have some information on the McCauley claim?

Yes, but you may not want to hear it.

What do you mean?

I mean, you and Lisa killed Simon McCauley.

She agreed to split the insurance money with you.

Why, Mrs. Fletcher, I do believe

your writer's imagination is a bit out of control.

I didn't imagine the two-million-dollar insurance policy.

It was easy for Lisa to handle the paperwork part of it.

She could probably sign her husband's name

as well as she could sign her own.

That left a little matter of the insurance physical.

Now, we've all taken them.

Simple exams, just blood and urine specimens.

Your mistake, Mr. Lawrence,

was in presenting yourself as Mr. McCauley

when the company nurse came to call.

Because the results of that exam,

including blood type,

are listed on the insurance file.

It says type A-positive, your type,

according to the records from the last blood drive.

You've been a regular donor for years.

So was Mr. McCauley,

but he was type B-negative.

Now, it's my guess

that when Marge Allen saw something incriminating

when she came to the house,

you killed her and staged the car wreck.

I couldn't take a chance.

Simon hadn't been dead ten minutes before she showed up.

I didn't know who she was.

She said she knew what was going on,

and that she'd caught us.

Marge had uncovered what to her was a major scandal.

That a supposedly amateur-trained dog

had actually been trained by Simon McCauley.

She knew nothing about the murder.

Well, I'm sorry about that.

Just like I'm sorry about this.

It's not in there.

This what you're looking for, Mitch?

Hey, Lucas, come on in here!

You know, you shouldn't leave your office unlocked, Mitch.

You never know who might decide to let herself in.

So once you arrived on the scene,

started asking questions,

Lawrence knew the truth

of the real murder would come out.

Yes, he was certain

that Lisa would crack under the strain and turn him in.

He also knew that

she had a regular rendezvous with Rick.

He got to the house first and killed her.

Then Rick showed up

and made himself the perfect fall guy.

But he had an airtight alibi.

The only crime that Rick committed

was picking the wrong woman to have an affair with.

Imagine! Three murders solved.

Oh, Jessica, you are the most amazing person.

Actually, the real hero in all this is Marge.

I mean, if she hadn't stirred things up,

Lisa and Mitchell Lawrence

might well have gotten away with murder.

Ladies, I would like to propose a toast.

To two of the finest investigative minds

of this century--

Jessica Fletcher

and Marge Allen.