All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S05E21.Mirror.Mirror.on.the.Wall.(1).WEBRip.x264-ION10

I’m being outflanked, outwritten

by an English teacher from Maine.

[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

What is this? The death capital of Maine?

Since she married Hank Shipton,
her work has been mediocre.

You're not gonna get drunk.

That a question or a statement?

I went out in search
of alternative companionship.

Was it a cash transaction?

Seth, are you trying to hurt me?

For pity's sake, woman.
That's the last thing I want to do.

You really are a very special lady.

I'm gonna have to find some way
to repay you for your kindness.

Oh!

Shoot. Well, now.

I do believe
I've found me a wide-open door.

Table's got a bad lean. I'll keep it
in mind, Bobby. 12 in the corner.

The old eight-ball in the side pocket.

Sorry, Bobby.

Uh, let's go again.
Double or nothing. Hmm?

Come on. You're down 500.
It's just not your day.

What? What do you mean?
You think I'm not good for it?

Oh, hey. Did I say that?
[door closes]

[man] Hey, you rummies.
What do you say?

[wolf whistle] Oh, my. Now, don't we look
righteously uptown, huh?

What'd you do? Go to a funeral
or something, Hank?

No. Lunch with some newspaper writer.

A funeral would've been more fun.

So, uh, how we doing, son?

Not so good, Pop. 500 down.

Yeah? Which one of you clowns
been hustling my boy here?

Uh, hey, it was his idea, Hank.

[chuckles]
Well, uh, the Cannonball Express...

has just come screeching to a halt, boys.

Now I'm giving the party,
starting with you, Gadge.

-Want to shoot the whole 500?
-You call it.

500, eight-ball.

I'll even give you the break.
Hey, Hank. Hank. Look.

I just got me a copy of one
of your wife's books. Good stuff, man.

Yeah. That's a real old one, Willie.

An oldie but a goodie.

-Yeah, not like her new ones, but...
-Knock it off, Bobby.

-All I'm saying was...
-I said, "knock it off."

This is difficult, Eudora. Most difficult.

In the mystery field you've been
on top for nearly two decades.

You're right up there...
and, uh, rightly so...

with Agatha Christie,
Dorothy Sayers, P.D. James.

But...

There comes a time when the...

Well, when the palette runs dry,

the colors fade away.

Look, Lew, if this is about rewrites,

we have no problem with that.

[Lew] Rewrites aren't gonna help
this manuscript, Liza.

Mr. Bracken, may I remind you...

that for the past 22 years...

I've been America's undisputed
premiere female mystery writer.

Nobody questions that, Eudora,

but times change,
people change, tastes change.

And we all have to change with them.

-Meaning what exactly?
-Meaning...

that your works
have become repetitive and tired.

You're writing
as if we're still in the 60's.

According to whom? The critics?

That simpering cadre of barnacles,

ticks and other parasites.

Euroda, I have a great idea.

Why don't you take a year off?
Recharge your batteries.

Why don't you and Hank move up
to that little cottage

in Nantucket
that you rented last summer.

I have no intention
of vegetating on some sand dune.

Lewis, you need my new book
for your Christmas catalog.

I'll survive.

Wait a minute. I get it.

You're about to sign J.B. Fletcher.

What?

That rumor's been on the street
for about a week.

We're talking.
But nothing's settled, Liza.

J.B. Fletcher.

Lewis, how could you do this to me?

Eudora, this is strictly business.

There's nothing personal about it.

Mrs. Fletcher's last six books
are best sellers.

She's about to be named
Mystery Writer of the Year.

I'm sorry.
[chuckles]

Dear old friend,

you are a paragon of fidelity.

I wish you and Mrs. Flectcher
both exactly what you deserve:

each other.

Eudora.

I can't believe it.

The money that woman has made for you.

Can't be helped.

I've never gotten anywhere
being subtle, Liza.

Since she married Hank Shipton,
her work has been mediocre.

What are you saying?
That marrying Hank was a lousy idea?

Tell me something I don't know.

Eudora. Eudora.

-We have to talk.
-About what?

I thought Mr. Bracken
said it all quite concisely.

Lew Bracken's a pompous, tasteless jerk

with a comic book mentality.

Oh? So that's why he's been publishing
my books all these years.

There are plenty
of other publishers, Liza.

Darling, you don't seem to understand.

Lew Bracken is not the source
of my problems.

I'm being outflanked, outwritten

by an English teacher from Maine.

Somehow, when I wasn't looking,
they coronated a new queen of mystery.

-You are blowing this out of proportion.
-Oh, am I?

Let's face it darling. I'm passé.

Eudora McVeigh... Is she still alive?

-Now you are exaggerating.
-Oh, for pity's sake,

my career is in tatters.

My marriage is hanging by a thread,

and who do I have to thank for this?

Dear, lovable, sweet-as-apple-pie
Jessica Fletcher,

who's just bounced me
from fifth row center

back to the last row in the balcony.

You can't blame her personally.

You'd be surprised at what I can do, Liza.

And what I will do to get back on top.

Hey, Dorie.

Dorie, how are you, darlin'?

-There's a warm hello.
-Where have you been, Hank?

Been? I've been out.

Where?

What do you want, an itinerary?

There's no need to be snide.

I do have a right to ask. I am your wife.

Yeah, but not my keeper.
Or maybe you are, and I forgot to notice.

That's fine stuff.

Very fine. By the way, darling,

I paid for this booze
out of my Navy pension check,

in case you're wondering.

You're not gonna get drunk.

That a question or a statement?
Look, Dorie...

Before lunch, I spent an hour
with your business manager...

going over your investment portfolio,
as you requested.

During lunch,
I said all the right things...

to that bird-brained columnist
from Los Angeles again, as you requested.

See how full my life is?

Then, afterwards,

I spent a little time
with some of my friends.

Shooting pool or watching the races?

Come on. What are we fightin' about?

What do you say to a...
a little dinner, just you and me?

What about Bobby?
Maybe your son would like to join us.

-When are you gonna get off his back?
-When he gets out of my purse.

I had a bill today for a VCR.

He charged it to my account.

Almost $400.

-He shouldn't have done that.
-He shouldn't have done a lot of things.

Oh, Hank, I married you, not your family.

I told you. The boy
never had me around... growing up.

-I owe him a lot of years.
-Well, I don't owe him a thing.

I've had enough.

What, are you telling me
I gotta make a choice?

Don't you walk away from me.
Where are you going?

Where I should've gone months ago,

but I was concerned about the...
the sanctity of this lousy marriage.

That fish weighed 40 pounds
if she weighed an ounce.

-[laughs] Oh, Seth.
-At least 28 inches, stem to stern.

I would swear my life on it. Well, Caleb,
you saw it. What do you think?

I didn't get that close a look, Doc.
And another thing...

Can I take those from you?
Thank you, Caleb.

You ought to do something
about this rotten tackle of yours.

If my line hadn't busted,
I'd have made the catch of the day.

-Well, better luck next time, Doc.
-Yeah.

-[Jessica] Thank you, Caleb. Great day.
-It was the bait.

-[laughs] The bait? What?
-The bait, woman.

Your bait was better than mine.

We got it out of the same bucket.

Well, you just made it seem that way.

Well, putting aside my shortcomings
as an angler for the moment,

the day was not exactly a total loss.

At least we made you laugh.

And if I'm not mistaken,
you have a bit of color in your face.

Well, what's the matter with my face?

There's nothing wrong with it at all,

except it hasn't seen the light of day
for about six weeks now.

Yeah, well, I've been working on my book.

Yes. You have been working on your book.

You're always working
on a book, Jessica.

I wonder sometimes
how you can tell them apart.

Honestly, Seth,

I want to know
what you meant by that remark.

No, you don't, Jess.

If I thought you did, I’d tell ya.
But since I know you don't,

best I don't, rather than be sorry I did.

[laughs] Oh, sure.
That makes perfect sense.

A... Yeah.
[phone rings]

Hello. Oh. Yes. Hello, Mr. Bracken.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.
I was worried about you.

I’ve been trying to reach you all day.

Well, uh, my doctor prescribed
a day of fishing,

and I was too tired to argue with him.

Good. I hope you're too tired
to argue with me.

I’ve got these contracts
right here on my desk.

Oh, no. Uh, let's not talk about that now.

My plane is gassed up at La Guardia
and ready to go.

I could be at your doorstep in two hours.

Please, Mr. Bracken. When I make up
my mind, I'll be in touch. I promise.

Could you give me some idea
of what the book is about?

[chuckles]
Not even a hint. I'm sorry.

Of course. One way or the other.

Good. Good-bye.

Persistent fella. And stubborn.

Like some other people that I know.

You must have made this last night.

Well, I'll be seeing you, Jess.

Oh, no. Seth Hazlitt.
You're not going to leave...

until you tell me exactly what you meant
by that crack at the harbor.

-That was a stupid remark. Let's drop it.
-No. Let's not. Let's not.

Jessica, what you do with your life
is absolutely none of my business.

-I tend to forget that.
-And a good thing too.

Do you realize that if I didn't have you
to keep me on an even keel, then who?

Out with it!

All right.

Do you recall last month I asked you
to go hiking with me up to Spooner's Mill?

Yes. And I wanted to go. You know that.

Except you had that article
you wanted to finish.

And a couple of months before that,

it was the fishing trip to Rockford,

except you couldn't find any time
for that either.

Well, I had this terribly important...

-uh, meeting with my accountant.
-I’m sure it was very important. I am.

You know, Jess, I have arrived at an age
where... well, I expect we both have...

Where I don't think we ought to have
to rev the engine as hard as we used to.

Well, are...
Are you saying that I'm working too hard?

I’m saying that's all you seem
to have time for these days.

Have you looked at your garden lately?

The weeds are threatening
to carry off the rhododendrons.

Well, I... I've got a lot of obligations.

To whom, Jess?

Now, a few years back,

you needed this writing to help you

get through the empty days
and lonely nights.

I know that. I went through it myself.

But Frank's a long time gone now,
just like my Ruth.

And another best seller,

or 10 best sellers,
is not going to fill that void.

Seth, I know that.

Maybe yes and maybe no.

All I know is that if Frank Fletcher
were still around...

you wouldn't be spending

half your life chained to that typewriter

and the other half
chasing around the country. No, Sir.

You'd be out smelling
the salt air at sunrise.

-Seth, are you trying to hurt me?
-Hurt you?

Oh, for pity's sake, woman.

That's the last thing I want to do.

I just think that maybe
you ought to get off the treadmill

while you still have a chance.

Now, that's my piece, and I don't want
to talk about it anymore at this time,

so I will...

chat with you later.

[vehicle approaching]

[seagulls squawking]

Oh. Jessica, thank God.

-Eudora?
-I do not believe I finally found you.

Honestly, Jessica.
Are you hiding from the law,

or do you merely harbor a deep-seated
ill will towards the civilized world?

Well, there are a few of us who think
that this is the civilized world.

No doubt,
though frankly I feel like I've wandered

onto the set of a Walt Disney movie.

Well, do you invite me in,

or do I spend the rest of the day inhaling
the fragrance of the outgoing tide?

Forgive me. I'm so sorry.
[chuckles]

You really are the last person
that I expected to see.

Oh, don't be silly. Two years ago,
when we met at the convention,

you said, "drop by anytime."

Well, here I am, dropping.

[laughs]
I’m delighted.

-We’ll put the teakettle on.
-Yeah. Oh, oh. Nearly forgot.

Mother said never come calling
with your hands at your side.

I found these
at this delightful little produce stand

just off the interstate.

Isn't that the most magnificent thing
you've ever seen?

My God, they must feed them
steroids or something.

-You do like apples?
-Oh, yes, yes.

Of course. Thank you.
Wonderful. Wonderful.

Thank you very much. Now, Jessica,

I do appreciate your offer
of liquid refreshments,

but what's this about a kettle?

I mean...
quaint is all right up to a point,

-but let's not get carried away.
-[chuckles] Right.

Dorie.

Dorie, it's me.

-Hey, Pop.
-What are you doing here, Bobby?

Got hungry.

Ran out of here last night
without taking my insulin shot.

About an hour ago,
I thought I was gonna pass out.

I sure wish
you could take this stuff orally.

What's that you're eating?
It smells like month-old pastrami.

It’s swiss cheese and liverwurst.
Want a bite?

No, thanks.
I already had something decent.

You got a stomach like a septic tank.
You know that?

So, where's Eudora?

Wouldn't know. Wherever she is,
she took her car.

I parked in her spot.

She took her car? She never takes
her car unless she's leaving town.

Pop. Got any dough on you?

-Need a couple of hundred.
-For what?

Me and Vinnie.
We're going out to the trotters.

-Get serious.
-Oh, come on, Pop! He's got a tip.

And I only got about 20 bucks.

Yeah, Ray. Uh, it's Hank.

I understand Mrs. Shipton went out.

Know what time that was?

Uh, you have any idea
where she was going?

Yeah?

She wanted a map of Maine, huh?

Yeah, well, thanks a lot, Ray.

So, what do you say, Pop?
Couple of hundred, that's all.

Pop?

Forget it. We're taking a ride.

-Now?
-Yeah, now.

Before your stepmom
does something real dumb.

Here. Bring my car around front
while I pack my things.

So, after 20 years of marriage...

to bloodless, sexless and "oh, so proper"
Schuyler McVeigh, divorce.

I figured anything would be better,
which is why I ended up up with Hank.

I remember meeting him at the convention.
He was a lot of fun.

That's Hank, all right. A laugh a minute.

Of course I didn't know when I married him
I'd end up with a package deal.

-His son, Bobby.
-Mmm.

Why am I complaining? The man
swept me off my feet, and I loved him.

Maybe I still do.

Well, I'd better go

if I'm going to find someplace
to stay tonight.

You're not going back to New York?

I want to soak up
some of this down east atmosphere.

If it's good enough for J.B. Fletcher,

it's good enough for me.

I tried your local hotel, The Hill House,
but they were all booked up.

I suppose I'll just have to find something
on the road back to Portland.

Don't be silly. You're going to stay
right here with me.

-Oh, no, I couldn't.
-I insist on it.

Not another word.

I mean, don't you realize
what a joy it is for me

to chat with a fellow writer
under my own roof?

Well, in that case,

I think we should have one more...

-cup of coffee before we turn in.
-Why not?

You know, Jessica,

you really are a very special lady.

I’m gonna have to find some way
to repay you for your kindness.

Oh, nonsense.

Just call it a little more
of that down east hospitality.

Oh. All this caffeine.
I'm going to be awake all night.

No, no, no.
I'm sure you'll sleep like the dead.

[dog barking in distance]
[faint clatter]

Eudora? Good morning.

Oh, good morning.

I couldn't sleep, and I was starved.
I hope you don't mind.

-Not at all.
-How do you like your eggs?

Oh, over easy, please.
I'm just gonna get the morning paper.

Jessica, if I woke you, I do apologize.

Oh, no, no, no, no.
I’m always up at this hour.

I can't believe
how soundly I slept last night.

Was dead to the world
the minute my head hit the pillow.

Didn't I tell you
you must be working too hard?

I’m only sorry that you had to go out.

Out?

What ever do you mean?
I haven't been anywhere.

Oh? Oh, I just thought... I mean, uh...

Well, your car is parked
in a different place

than it was
when we went to bed last night.

Oh, you must be mistaken.

No, I don't think so.

Well, now... Here we are.
Two eggs over easy.

-Couple of nice pieces of toast.
-Lovely.

-Would you like some bacon?
-Uh, no. No, thanks.

Well, now, when you're all done,

I want to see this town of yours, Jessica.

Every little street. You see?
I'm even wearing my walking shoes.

Oh, yes.
[chuckles]

[doorbell rings]

That's odd...
A visitor at this hour of the morning.

Excuse me.

-Yes?
-Jessica?

-Hank Shipton.
-Hank. Hello. Come on inside.

Kind of early to be barging in,

but I saw Eudora's car
parked outside and...

Hank, what are you doing here?
You followed me.

I’ve come to bring you home, Dorie.

Well, I'm not coming home.
I’m here visiting Jessica,

so why don't you just scoot back
to New York?

Honey, it's not a good idea,
you being here like this.

Now come on.
We've got some talking to do.

Stay away from me, Hank.

What we have, or maybe had,
is hanging by a thread,

so, please, walk out that door...

before one of us says something
we won't be able to take back.

-Jessica, are you OK?
-Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?

Well, it's just that Dorie's been...

kind of high-strung lately,
losing her temper, acting crazy.

Well, she seems fine to me.

Well, guess I better get going.

Hank, I'm sorry. Really.

Uh, maybe if you came back later.

No. It wouldn't do much good, Jess.

When she's like that,
there's no living with her.

Say, listen.
You remember my son Bobby, don't you?

Hey, Bobby! Say hi to Jessica.

Oh, yes. I think we met at the convention.

-Uh, he's a horse trainer or something.
-Horse player.

[laughs]
Yeah, there's a big difference.

Uh, say, listen, me and Bobby...

we're staying up at the the Hill House

if you want to get ahold of me.

At the Hill House? Oh, that's odd.

Uh, Eudora said that it was booked solid,

that...
she couldn't get a room last night.

Yeah, they said some practical joker

phoned in a dozen phony reservations
a couple days ago.

But when we pulled in last night
around 2:00, there was plenty of room.

-Well, I'll be talking with you, Jess.
-Yes.

[Eudora] I just love
this little town of yours, Jessica.

It’s so homey.

-How can you stand it?
-Well, having lived here for 30 years,

-I guess I've gotten used to it.
-Oh, 30 years.

Good Lord.
Three days in this Toonersville

and I'd be stark staring mad.

Believe it or not, Eudora, we have
a perfectly good public library in town

and we do have access
to major newspapers, magazines,

clean streets, fresh air,

friendly people,
once they get to know you...

but most of all, safe neighborhoods.

I mean, you can walk anywhere
without feeling afraid.

Mrs. Fletcher! Mrs. Fletcher!

Calm down, Johnny. What is it?

It's a dead body, ma'am.
Down on the rocks.

Mr. Purdy sent me to get the sheriff.

I wouldn't look down there, ladies.

It's not a pretty sight.

[police radio chatter]

I'm proud to have you here in Cabot Cove,
Mrs. McVeigh. [shutter clicks]

Uh, Jessica, could you move in just a bit?

A nice smile now.

Oh, Jonathan. Smile?
A man has just been killed here.

Say "cheese."
[shutter clicks]

So, Doc, what do you think killed him?
Slip and fall or what?

I wouldn't think so. That wound
at the head wasn't caused by a fall.

Besides, there wasn't enough blood.

No, I expect he was killed somewhere else
and then dumped off here.

How long would you say he's been dead?

Oh, probably about five hours,
maybe less.

-Did you ever see him before?
-A stranger to me.

Yeah. Me too.

Excuse me, Doc.

Mrs. Fletcher,
could I see you for a minute?

Well, didn't waste any time
sending out an S.O.S.

Even Amos Tupper would have made
a pretense of knowing what he was doing.

Run that by me again.

Sheriff Metzger.
Nice enough fella, I suppose,

considering he's a city boy.

But, like as not,

it'll be Jessica that solves the murder,

like she always does. Is that right?

Well, guess I better get this developed.

Might be able to get it
on Channel 8 in Portland.

I’m the local contact hereabouts.
[chuckles]

Be seeing you.

I said, "Do me a favor, please,

and tell me what goes on in this town."

-Sheriff, I’m sorry.
-Five murders in my first year!

What is this?
The death capital of Maine?

On a per capita basis, this place makes
the Bronx look like Sunnybrook Farm.

But I assure you, Sheriff...

Is that why Tupper quit?
He couldn't take it anymore?

Somebody really should've warned me,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Now perfect strangers
are coming to Cabot Cove to die.

Look at this guy. You don't know him.

I don't know him. He has no I.D.

-We don't know the first thing about him.
-Of course you do,

if you just take the time to observe.

-Ma’am?
-Forgive me, Sheriff.

This is Eudora McVeigh.

-She's a very well-known mystery novelist.
-How do you do?

Well, now, Sheriff, I'm sure you're
a terribly capable officer of the Law,

and I'd be the last one to interfere
with your investigation,

but before you arrived,
I took the liberty of examining the body,

and I'm sure you noticed
the label in the jacket.

An off-the-rack clothing store
in New York City.

Lady, there must be 10,000 suits
like that in New York.

Owned by men who wear
a $3,000 watch on their wrist?

This is definitely not a knockoff,
Sheriff.

which means he may have stolen it...

possibly at the point of a gun.

A gun? Hold it. Wait.
Where did you get that?

Well, that stain.

It appears to be gun oil,
which says to me...

he kept a pistol tucked in here...

-in a shoulder holster.
-Mrs. Fletcher.

Jessica, I hope you don't mind
my helping out like this.

Oh, of course not. My goodness.

If I'm stepping on your toes,
just say so.

Eudora, don't be silly.

Uh, I think you've made
some very perceptive observations.

Yes. Well, now,

as to why the victim didn't pull his gun,

which is missing,
along with the shoulder holster,

-it has to do with his missing glasses.
-Glasses?

Yes, he has those little print marks
on the bridge of his nose.

-I'm sure you noticed them.
-Oh, yeah.

The glasses
must've fallen when he was killed,

which, by the way, didn't happen here.

The body was definitely moved,
or there would've been a lot more blood.

Seth.

Howdy, Jess.
[chuckles]

Looks like the sheriff has
his hands full with that friend of yours.

Forget Metzger. You and I
need to have a little talk.

Oh, now, Jess... About yesterday, I...
[clears throat]

I said some things
I probably shouldn't have. I'm sorry,

and I'd like to forget the whole incident.

No, you don't, Seth Hazlitt.
I’ve had some time to think.

And I can't argue with a few
of the things that you said.

-A few?
-Well, a lot of them, I suppose.

You suppose quite right.

Just because I'm an opinionated,
self-righteous, Yankee chauvinist...

does not necessarily mean
that I'm always wrong.

Not all of the time.
How about dinner tonight?

-Your place or mine?
-Mine.

-What's on the menu?
-Pot roast.

Good. I'll bring the dessert.

-Rhubarb pie?
-Have I ever brought anything else?

-See you around 7:00. [chuckles]
-Right.

[phone rings]
Hello?

Oh, hi, Carol. Have you found Eudora?

I don't get it.
Where the hell is she?

[sighs]
Listen. Were you able to postpone

that interview with People Magazine?

Oh, they did? W...
You just tell them from me that...

Never mind. I’ll tell them myself.
[door opens]

[man] Liza.
[door closes]

Just call me
as soon as you hear anything.

My goodness.
I see we slept in this morning.

Back in Kansas, isn't that considered
a mortal sin?

I didn't get to bed until very late.

Where were you, Victor?

Your business dinner
couldn't have lasted for 15 hours.

Unless, of course,
your appetite has improved.

As a matter of fact, I arrived home
early last evening, shortly after 10:00.

Naturally, I was surprised
to find you weren't here,

and rather than wait around
like a jealous husband to listen

to your patently transparent explanations,

I went out in search
of alternative companionship,

which, I am happy to report, I found.

Well, terrific.
Was it a cash transaction?

Of course, darling. As my wife,

you're the one entitled to subtler forms
of compensation for services rendered.

Oh, yes.

There's a little of the farm girl

still hiding under all that glitz.

[phone rings]

You'd better answer that, darling.

I’m sure it's personal for you.

I’d get it myself, but I've really come
to hate those abrupt hang ups.

Whoever he is,

he isn't very imaginative.

[ringing continues]

Hello.

What? W... What channel?

All right. Thanks, Carol.

While in this peaceful
little coastal village

of Cabot Cove, Maine,

the citizens have been visited
by murder most foul.

But never fear.

Two of fiction's most intrepid sleuths

just happen to be on the scene.

Can a solution
to this knotty puzzle be far behind...

when Jessica Fletcher
and Eudora McVeigh sink their teeth...

-Oh, no.
-What's the matter?

I can't believe she went there.

Victor, I'm sorry. I have to leave.

-And we have to talk.
-Not now, Victor.

Liza.

[door opens, closes] And, Oh, Yes.
That's right. As of the moment,

Cabot Cove's newest corpse is a John Doe,

a stranger with no identification.

Though we understand
he is reported to be

a six-foot tall, balding New-Yorker

in his 40's, who probably wore
thick glasses and carried a gun.

When asked how the case was going,

Sheriff Metzger said he had no comment,

or words to that effect.

Eudora, you're not leaving.

A good guest
never overstays her welcome.

-Oh, nonsense.
-Jessica,

-I do hope you're not put out with me.
-About what?

Why, helping your sheriff, of course.

I realize this is your town
and I'm just an outsider.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

We're not competing with each other.

[chuckles]
No. Of course not.

Well, I must be off.

Frankly, Eudora, I wasn't expecting you
to run off quite so quickly,

and I was hoping I'd be able to ask you
a couple questions about, uh...

About last night, and, uh,
also about your car, for instance.

Jessica, I would love to stay and chat,

but I simply must get over
to your local newspaper office.

Oh? My publicist has arranged for me...

to meet some reporters
from the Boston papers.

They're very interested in my, uh,

well, quasi-official participation
in this murder investigation.

You understand?

Oh, yes. Of course.
Well, let me help you with your things.

No. I can manage, thank you.

Well, let me get the door.

You've been lovely, Jessica.

I do hope we see more
of each other in the future.

And we may,
perhaps sooner than you think.

Eudora, I do really think
that we should talk about

what you have in your attaché case.

Why?
Just some silly story notes, that's all.

-Ladies.
-Good afternoon, Sheriff.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Uh, you're planning on leaving,
Mrs. McVeigh?

Oh, I’m sorry.
That's actually Mrs. Shipton, isn't it?

Either one will do, Sheriff.

I plan to stay a day or two
at The Hill House until I, uh...

[chuckles] that is, we get
to the bottom of this murder.

Well, say, that's real nice of you,
ma'am. Sure is.

Sheriff, do I get the feeling
that you've discovered something?

Yes, ma'am. We sure have.
We've identified that John Doe.

The body was moved.

A couple of hikers found the guy's car:

pushed down off a bluff,
a few miles from the coast.

Just as I suspected.

-And what about the gun?
-missing, along with the shoulder holster.

But he wore one, all right.

We found the permit in the guy's wallet,

-it had been tossed into the underbrush.
-A permit?

The victim was a New York
private investigator,

name of Cappaletti.

P.I., criminal... Almost the same thing.

But here's the funny thing.

Know what else we found
in that wallet, Mrs. Shipton?

A piece of paper
with your name and address on it,

and your phone number. Strange, huh?

All of a sudden
it's gettin' real clear to me...

how come you knew
so much about this stiff.

Lady, you've got some explaining to do.

Sheriff Metzger, no doubt
there are rigid qualifications...

for your position here in Cabot Cove,

but obviously intelligence
isn't one of them.

Now look, lady, you can insult me
from now until next Groundhog's Day,

but I'm not buyin' your story.

Like you just happened
to know the guy was from New York,

and you just happened to know
he carried a gun.

-How long had he been working for you?
-He hadn't.

Yeah? Well, we'll see. Floyd.

Try Cappaletti's office number
again in New York.

You know, Sheriff, Mrs. McVeigh

didn't spot any clues
that weren't fairly obvious.

Well, thank you, Jessica.

How sweet of you
to make that observation.

And as for the victim working for her,

I mean,
have you considered the possibility

that he might've had her
under surveillance,

that he might've followed her here
to Cabot Cove?

You mean he could've been working
for somebody else?

-Eudora?
-Well, don't be silly.

Why would anyone be following me?

Sheriff, there's still no answer
at that New York number.

[Eudora] Sheriff, you're wasting
my time and yours.

Even if I knew this detective,
which I didn't,

there's no way
I could be involved with his death

because I was staying with Jessica,

asleep in her house,
at the time he died.

-So if you'll excuse me.
-Now wait a minute, lady!

Unless you plan to place me under arrest,

in which case I shall summon a battery

of very high-priced lawyers,
from New York,

who will be delighted to bury you
in enough writs to start a big bonfire...

Ah. Good.

If you need me,
I'll be at the newspaper office.

Whether you like it or not,
I’ll solve this murder for you.

No, no, no, no. No need to thank me.

Just think of me as a concerned citizen
performing her civic duty.

Excuse me.

[phone rings]

Sheriff's office.
Sheriff, it's your wife.

Tell her, uh... Tell her, uh...

Hi, honey. Listen. I'm gonna be
a little late for supper tonight.

I’m sorry, Eudora. I’m not mistaken.

Your car was moved during the night,

and I'm fairly certain that you moved it.

Oh, you're imagining things.

I certainly didn't imagine
the dreadful headache I had this morning.

Last night you put a sedative in my coffee

so that I would sleep very soundly.

-That's a monstrous suggestion.
-Eudora,

earlier today, I had to look
at some notes for my new novel.

Now, some of the pages were out of order.

Oh, I see. Now you're accusing me
of stealing from you.

I’m sorry, Jessica. I won't dignify that
with a response. Excuse me.

Perhaps I'd better let the sheriff
inspect your attaché case.

For a supposedly intelligent woman,
Jessica,

you are woefully ignorant
of our privacy laws,

which I'm sure even extend
to this outpost of civilization.

[engine starts]

[tires squeal]

There is one tough cookie.

And one very unhappy lady.

Yeah, well, you vote your way,
I’ll vote mine.

Well, you seem to be making
good progress on your investigation.

You've identified the victim
and pinpointed the murder site.

Well, I'm not sure I'd make book on that.

Some of the pieces
of the puzzle don't fit real good.

For example, the backseat of the guy's car
was covered with bloodstains,

and the steering wheel
had been wiped clean of prints.

Oh, dear. That sounds
as if he was killed at point "A,"

his body put in the back of the car

and then dumped by the ocean,

and then the car driven into the woods
by the killer and abandoned.

Yeah. That's the way I read it. But why?

Well, obviously to cover up
where he was killed.

Sheriff, that wallet in the bush,

did it it have any cash in it?

Cleaned out. Why?
What do you think? Robbery?

Well, to be truthful,
I just don't know what to think.

Except that I do have some shopping to do.

Can I give you a lift?

Oh, no, thanks. No.
The walk'll do me good.

Okay.

Uh, hello, Hank.

Liza.

Is Eudora here?

Uh, no.

Good.

Are you crazy, following me here?

Oh, I didn't follow you here, Hank.

I saw Eudora on the the news,
here in Cabot Cove.

-I... I was terrified that she'd...
-Do something insane?

No, I can't believe that.

-Well, then what are you doing here?
-The same thing I am.

Hank. You know what she's been like
lately. She's ready to snap.

And we're not helping her, are we?

[sighs] Look, I...
I feel guilty enough already,

but damn it,
we're not the only ones responsible.

I am not going to apologize
for what happened between us, Hank.

Maybe we're on a dead-end road.
I... I don't know.

But I just think we have to hang onto
each other for as long as we can.

And Eudora?

Eudora needs professional help.
We both know that.

What am I supposed to do?

She won't admit she has a problem.

She won't see a doctor.

Then one of us
has to speak to J.B. Fletcher.

And do what? Warn her?

That's what Bobby said.
He think's Eudora's capable of anything,

that she's starting
to mix fantasy with reality.

Oh, he might be right, Hank.

It is possible that Eudora has spent
so much time writing about murder

she actually thinks
it's a solution to her problems.

Let me see if I can get Jessica
to meet with me, away from Eudora.

[ringing]

[ringing continues]

Jess?

Jess?
[ringing continues]

Hello?
[dial tone]

[coughs]

[hums]

[hums]

[hums]

Mmm.

[gasps]

[coughs]

Seth! Are you here?

Oh, my God. Seth!