All language subtitles for Murder.She.Wrote.S09E02.Family.Secrets.WEBRip.x264-ION10

[Jessica] Tonight, on Murder, She Wrote.

Hello, is anyone there?

I’ll tell you the whole story.

One thing’s for sure,

it’s gonna shake this town
right down to the ground.

I strongly suggest
you not write that book.

You left out the "or else."

Something terribly wrong
happened here 30 years ago.

The truth is rarely popular.

Sometimes it’s downright dangerous.

Then we’ll just
have to stop him, won’t we?

Would someone like to tell me

what all of this mad Maggie
business is all about?

The inquest ruled it’s accidental,

but there’s always been some doubts.

This isn’t even about us anymore.

It’s about you and your father.

Owen Cooper was killed by a shotgun blast
at point-blank range.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, I’m sorry, Arnold.

I guess it’s getting to be that time.

I’m afraid so, yeah.

Still looking for that perfect poison?

Oh, yes.

I know it’s here somewhere,
deadly, exotic,

virtually impossible to detect.

Until the murderer gets
caught on the last page.

Oh, you’ve been reading my books.

Well, I’ll just gather my stuff together.

Oh, no hurry.

I just wanted you know that I’m leaving.

Just be sure and lock up when you finish.

Oh, fine. Thank you, Arnold, I’ll do that.

Good night, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, good night, Arnold.

See you tomorrow, Arnold.

Randy Sloan?

Oh, my goodness, you surprised me.

Mrs. Fletcher, I’m sorry,
I didn’t mean to startle you.

Well, that’s quite all right.

I just didn’t know that anyone was here.

I didn’t know that
you were back in Cabot Cove.

Oh, you’re a fine friend,

not even telephoning
your favorite teacher.

I just got in this afternoon.

I meant to call,
but I stopped off here first.

I got so lost in these old files, I guess,

I just got oblivious to everything.

Same old Randy.

So what brings you back?

Last I heard you were

working on a Portland newspaper.

Portland Gazette . Still am.

But I’m chasing a story
of my own right now.

Oh, what’s the story about?

Well, I’ll tell you what?
It’s getting kind of late.

How about if I fill you in on
everything over breakfast?

My treat.

Deal. And be sure to bring your clips.

I want to know what you’ve been up to
since you left high school.

Here you go.

This stuff is strong enough
to jumpstart your heart.

Sally, I am just going to have
pigs in a blanket.

Uh, give me just a minute, Mrs. Hanson,

I’ll be right back to take your order.

If I don’t get a coffee fix
over to Sam Tabbot right away,

you’re going to hear yelling and screaming

like you have never heard before.

[man] Come on, Sally, how about my refill?

Hi, Sally.

Randy, hi.

I didn’t know you were back in town.

I just got in yesterday.

Listen, what time do you get off work?

Me? 6 o’clock. Why?

I have to see you. 6 o’clock will be fine.

Well, I don’t have--

Please, I do have to see you.

I’m sorry, Randy,

but I have plans.

And for this one I went undercover

at a company engaged in mail fraud.

The story got me three death threats

and an award for the best
investigative story of the year.

That is wonderful.

You know, Randy,

I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.

You know, back in high school,
I always knew you had talent,

but it takes more than that
to become a good reporter.

It takes determination
and persistence and ingenuity.

How about luck?

Oh, I don’t think that luck
has anything to do with that.

And knowing your work as I do--

More coffee, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, yes, thank you.

Sally, I really do have to talk to you.

I already said no.

6 o’clock, after you’ve finished work.

I’m sorry but I’m working two jobs,
and with school at night,

I really don’t have time
for anything else.

So you mentioned last night
that you’d tell me today

about why you’d come back to Cabot Cove.

A story of your own, you said?

Not just a story, a book.

Oh, that’s wonderful. What’s it about?

Mad Maggie.

You mean Margaret Babbington?

Only the most famous scandal
this little town ever saw.

That was over 30 years ago.

Good stories never die.

Oh, that’s why you were digging

through all those
old town records last night.

Births, deaths, land deeds,

business transactions,

I want to know everything,

details, details, details

as befits the bloodiest killing
in Cabot Cove history.

Yes, but why?

I mean, that story must have been

gone over a hundred times.

As I recall there was nothing
extraordinary about it.

I mean, there was no
mystery about who did it.

Let’s just say I’ve dug up
a new angle on it.

Oh.

Like what?

Not yet.

I still have a few more things
I have to confirm.

But once I have all the facts in place,

I’ll tell you the whole story.

One thing’s for sure,

it’s gonna shake this town
right down to the ground.

Well, I’ve only seen

strychnine poisoning
a couple of times, Jess.

But I have heard that convulsions,

will sometimes leave the corpse

with a kind of grimace on the face.

[knock on door]

Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, hi, sheriff.

Come on in, we’re in the dinning room.

Doc.

Sheriff, nice day.

Yeah, says you.

Oh, you have a problem?

I’ve got some newspaper guy

from Portland driving me crazy.

He wants to dig into all my old files.

Randall Sloan.

Yeah, how did you--?

Never mind.

So listen,
would someone like to tell me

what all of this mad Maggie
business is all about?

Well, tragedy mostly.

Years ago Margaret Babbington

and her cousin
Emily Weymouth and their fiances,

Owen Cooper and George Latimer,

went hunting in the woods
somewhere up North.

Margaret and Owen drifted away
from the other two.

And there was some sort of a quarrel.

Owen Cooper was killed by

a shotgun blast at point blank range.

The inquest ruled it’s accidental,

but there’s always been some doubts.

Now the Babbington family
has been rather well-known

in Cabot Cove for some years,

so naturally the newspapers
made a big thing of it.

It was really very sad.

I mean, Owen’s death
undid Margaret completely.

She was judged insane,

committed to a mental institution

and died a short time later.

Well, it sounds like
an open and shut case to me.

So why is this guy
digging so hot and heavy

into it after 30 years?

And with construction cost pegged so low,

we’ll get the whole thing,
the wharf, a restaurant

and six stores up for 2.3 million.

Then we just nudge
the rents up by 8% every two years.

Ah, what do you think, George?

I guess it sounds okay.

You guess?

We’ll be doing nothing but counting money.

Okay, let me take
another look at the numbers,

I’ll get back to you tomorrow.

Good, I’ll talk to you then.

You know you could have
at least paid some attention.

What for?

You didn’t need me.

You had him jumping
through hoops as always.

I thought that was all over.

I’m not saying Sally is not a nice girl,
but she’s not right for you.

You had no business
starting up with her in the first place.

-Now wait a minute.
-I know. You think you’re in love.

We’ve had this conversation.

But you got to be reasonable
about these things.

Come on, Neal.

Lots of other girls in Cabot Cove

and from the right families too.

Janet Weymouth, for example.

Why don’t you start taking her out?

’Cause I’ve never been big on frost bite.

[Seth] Well, we need more information.

Maybe we can find out
something over here at the pharmacy.

[car honking]

Oh, isn’t that Janet Weymouth?

-Oh, hi, Janet, how are you?
-I’m fine.

And how is your mother?

Not so good, I’m afraid.

She doesn’t even go out of the house.

Not good.

I know.

She hardly sees anyone anymore.

And now that I have my
own apartment in town,

practically the only time
we see each other

is when we have dinner on Thursday nights.

She asked about you
the other day, Mrs. Fletcher.

If you could find some time to stop by.

I’d love to do that.

And as long as I’m pushing,

about the luncheon this afternoon?

Oh, I haven’t forgotten.

I’m very much in favor of anything

to get that community center built.

I’ll be there.

Great. I’ll see you later.

-Another fund-raiser.
-Yes.

Well, I’m not going.
I’ll spend money, I know it.

I can just feel the cash
sliding out of my wallet now.

[phone ringing]

Hello.

Yes, that’s the one.

Randall Sloan.

He’s asked to see me.

No, I didn’t say anything.

But tell me, my dear, after all this time

why does he
want to talk to me about Maggie?

Then we’ll just
have to stop him, won’t we?

Hello, Mother. I see you’re up and around.

There’s much to be done.

And I know it.

There never seems to be enough time.

What was that about Randall Sloan?

Do you know him?

We went to high school together.

He was year ahead of me. Why?

What kind of a young man is he?

Well, I really didn’t know him very well.

He was always into books, studying.

After he graduated
I heard he went to Portland,

became a newspaper reporter.

Why all the sudden
interest in Randall Sloan?

It’s nothing important.

I take that you’ve
finished preparations for the luncheon.

All taken care of.

You are coming, aren’t you?

I’m sorry, Janet, I’m really not up to it.

They’ll be disappointed.

We must all learn to live
with disappointment, Janet.

It’s an imperfect world,

sometimes a considerably imperfect world.

[Janet] Are there any more contributions
for the building fund?

You’re a true friend, Sarah. Thank you.

How was lunch?

Oh, it was very nice, thanks.

Good, because it’s gonna cost you.

Oh, I know that’s already done that.

Not that I’m complaining,
mind you, I’m just--

Complaining, I know.

Well, yes, complaining puts it nicely.

Not that I haven’t always wanted

an antiqued stuffed moose head
but after paying all that money

you’d think the least they could do

is throw in the rest of the moose.

Seth, it’s for a good cause.

Sally, I forgot to ask you
at breakfast time,

how is your night school going?

Oh, fine.

Yeah, my marks are up and I’m saving money

from the two jobs I’m working.

So another semester
I’ll be able to go back to college.

The oldest living junior
in the State of Maine.

Good for you.

But I’m gonna do it and I’m gonna make

some kind of life for myself.

If you’ll excuse me.

If you have any complaints about lunch

you’ll have to see the manager.

Come on, Sally, I just want to talk.

Sorry, Neal, I’m all talked out.

Look, all I’m asking
is that you be patient.

I’m gonna work things out.

I know you don’t believe it,

but I’m gonna do it, I promise.

It seems to me I’ve heard this before.

You know, sometimes I think

this isn’t even about us anymore.

It’s about you and your father

and which of you gets to decide
what happens to my life.

It’s not fair.

Maybe not, but talk is cheap, Neal.

And I have to get on with my life.

The alternative is just too painful.

Ladies, gentlemen,

first of all, thank you for coming.

The checks have been added

and combined
with the seed money

donated by mother,
Emily Weymouth,

well, let’s just say
that at this moment

the new Cabot Cove community center
is at last a reality.

Folks, folks,
we regret that Emily

couldn’t be
with us today,

but on behalf
of the building commission

I’m proud to announce

that the new building
will be named

the Emily Weymouth center.

Thank you, Mr. Latimer,
it’s very thoughtful.

I’m sure my mother
will be pleased.

The blind auction winners
can pick up

their new items
Friday at the town hall.

And don’t forget
to collect

you door prizes
on the way out.

Thank you again.

Randall.

Hi.

Janet Weymouth.

Of course.

You haven’t changed
a bit since high school.

Just ten years older, that’s all.

I heard you were in town.

Are you covering
the fundraising?

No, not exactly.

I’m-- I’m researching a book.

I’m writing about
the Margaret Babbington case.

Margaret Babbington?

Why on earth would you be

interested in something
that happened so long ago?

I’m sorry,
I have to go.

Mr. Sloan, hi.

Hi there.
I’m George Latimer.

I couldn’t help overhearing
about your book.

Margaret Babbington
was one of my closest friends.

I’ve done my homework,
Mr. Latimer, I know that.

30 years ago the media
turned it into a circus.

Now this book of yours is gonna make it
circus time all over again.

Now is there anything
I can say to talk you out of writing?

No, I’m afraid not.

I don’t get it. What’s so important about
a 30-year-old tragedy?

Nothing, if it was only a question
of going over old territory.

But I’ve got
a whole new slant.

And once I have
all the pieces in place

it is gonna knock
Cabot Cove on its ear.

I’m on the trail of something

that no one else knows,
except maybe you.

I strongly suggest
you not write that book.

You left out the "or else."

You’re making a big mistake. You’re buying
more trouble than you can handle,

very serious trouble.

Is that a threat?

It’s more than a threat.
It’s a promise.

[Seth] I can wait if you’d like.

[Jessica] Oh, no, thank you, Seth.

I’ll be fine.

You can tell me
what you find.

From the look of it,
it must be some place.

Have you ever been inside?

Oh, hardly anyone
ever goes in there now.

She wants it that way.

[doorbell ringing]

Oh, Emily, I wish
you could have been there.

You know,
this new community center

is going to mean
so much to the young people.

Oh, I’m glad.

But you will be there for
the ground breaking ceremony.

No.

No, I don’t think so.

I’m sure Janet
will tell me all about it.

She keeps me up to date
on most of the news from town.

Then I take it,
you know about...

Randall Sloan? Yes.

He’s a former
student of yours, isn’t he?

Yes, one that
I’m very proud of.

I know that he looks up
to you, respects you.

So perhaps you might
have some influence with him.

About what?

I was hoping
that you might be

able to persuade him
not to write this book of his.

Oh, Emily,
I’m afraid I can’t do that.

Jessica, Margaret Babbington
wasn’t just my cousin.

She was my very best friend.

I loved her dearly.

The incident
was tragedy enough

and then all those hideous
front page stories and T.V.

cameras poking everywhere.

Hasn’t poor Margaret
suffered enough?

This book will drag her memory
through that all over again.

Why would
anyone want to do that?

It serves no useful purpose.

Emily, I’ve known
Randy for over ten years.

He’s a very determined,
stubborn,

obsessed
with finding the truth.

He’s a born reporter,

but I don’t believe he has
a malicious bone in his body.

Then why?

All I know is that
he wouldn’t be doing this

unless there was something
very important at stake.

You’re assuming the worst.

But, Emily, isn’t it possible
that he might be

on to something that could
clear Margaret’s name?

No, no good ever came out
of what happened that day,

no good ever will.

Perhaps if you sat down
with Randy, Emily,

and you could
talk about all of this.

He’s been asking to see me,
but I’ve refused.

I’ve gotten
quite used to being alone.

I don’t feel
comfortable with visitors.

In fact, I never see anyone
anymore, except Janet.

Oh, I thought
I saw George Latimer

leaving just as I arrived.

Oh, yes, George,

he just came to talk about
the fundraising.

George was a good friend of
Margaret’s too, wasn’t he?

Yes, Margaret,

George, Owen,
we were all so close.

You’re right, Jessica.

Perhaps I should see
this young man after all.

How’s it going?

Ah, just fine,
Arnold, thanks.

You know,
everyone in town’s

talking about
you and your book.

Even money says
it’s gonna be a bestseller.

Well, I think, I should write it first
and then we’ll see.

Something else, Arnold?

You know,
I was just remembering

how we would take all those
writing classes together.

You know,
we’d always share notes

and talk about how we were
both gonna make it big time

and you went off to Portland

to become
a hotshot reporter while I--

Well, you know...

Arnold, we earn our big breaks
and this is mine.

Yours will come, huh?

Yeah.

Hello, Arnold.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.

Is something wrong?

Not a thing,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Not an ever-loving thing.

Hello, Randy.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

Why didn’t you tell me
that writing a book was this tough?

I know just how you feel.

Is everything else all right?

Yeah.

No.

I don’t know.

Well, I guess
that just about covers it.

It’s just this hasn’t been
much of a home coming.

I mean, every one’s
either mad at me or won’t talk to me.

And now Arnold’s
got his nose out of joint

because I won’t let him
co-write the book with me.

Well, I’m sure you realize
how many feathers

you’re ruffling
in town with your book.

Yeah, I know.

But that doesn’t bother me.

I don’t care how many
people line up against me.

Mrs. Fletcher, you’re
the best teacher I ever had.

And the most important thing
that you ever taught me

is that once you
uncover a truth

that’s been hidden away

you have to keep
chasing it no matter what.

Something terribly
wrong happened here 30 years ago

and I’ve almost
got it nailed.

Just a few more pieces
and I’ve got it all tied up.

Randy, just remember
the truth is rarely popular.

In fact, sometimes
it’s downright dangerous.

Be fair, be accurate

and above all,
be careful.

[knock on door]

Neal, what I can do for you?

Well, you can ask me
in for starters.

Thanks.

Forget it.

Please, no phony
nice-to-see-you, okay.

I don’t like you,
you don’t like me,

not in grade school,
not in high school, not now.

What do you want?

I heard about the argument
you had with my father.

I came to try
to smooth things out.

I’m sorry
if he came on too strong.

And I’d like to ask you
to think about

what he said and reconsider.

Reconsider?

Nothing good is gonna
come of this book, Randall.

You’re only gonna
make a lot of enemies,

a lot of powerful enemies.

Nothing ever changes,
does it?

All grown up and still running
errands for your father.

I’m trying to do you a favor

but you’re
too pig-headed to see it.

If you’re smart, you’ll get on
the next plane and go back to Portland,

because after that
all bets are off.

That suits me right down
to the ground, Neal.

That’s funny,
the door is open.

Randy said he’d lock up
when he finished last night.

Well, he told me I should
meet him here first thing.

Maybe he got here early.

Maybe he just
forgot to lock up.

Randy, you here?

I just heard.

Oh, my Lord,
how did this happen?

That’s what
we’re trying to find out.

We found him
like that a half an hour ago.

What was the cause of death?

Blows to the head
by the look of it.

I’d say
with a blunt instrument.

Well, I’d better see what’s
taking the coroner so long.

You know, Randy had
a big heavy paperweight.

I saw it here the other day.

Andy, check around
for a large paperweight.

See if you guys can find it.

Are you all right, Sally?

I’m okay, I guess.

Oh, it’s very upsetting.

We just came in
and there he was.

I know.

You were just coming
to open up, right, Arnold?

What about you, Sally?

Why were you here so early?

Randy had been
pestering me to see him.

I agreed and he told me
to meet him here at the library.

What did he
want to see you about?

I don’t know.

He was always coming onto me
asking personal questions.

I thought it was
just another way

for a guy
to come onto a girl.

Early morning
in the public library,

hardly seems the place
for romantic overtures.

I mean, there must have been
some other reason.

So, Arnold,
what about you?

Now you said
you left last night at 7:00 as usual

and the deceased
was still alive.

Yeah, that’s right.

Randy had a habit of
working at odd hours.

So I just
asked him to lock up.

Where did you
go after you left?

Wait, you don’t think
I had anything to do with this, do you?

Right now
I’m asking questions.

Where did you go?

Well, I went home
alone as usual.

Look, I couldn’t have done it,
Randy was my friend.

And I didn’t have a reason.

It’s curious, you know,

Randy’s research notes
don’t seem to be here.

That’s impossible.

Randy always
kept everything with him

in that briefcase
he always carried around.

Well, that’s
not here either.

Any idea what might
have been in those notes?

Well, I don’t know.

I assumed it had
something to do with his book.

Which gives us
two possibilities.

Someone who wanted to stop
that book from being written

or write it himself.

Sheriff,

take a look at this key.

I think
you ought to see this.

Let’s see if we can
get some prints off of it.

I’ll try, sheriff,
but it’s pretty smudged

from where
he was laying on it.

We’ll try anyway.

Arnold,
is this the library key?

Oh, no, no, I’ve never
seen that key before.

I wonder what it opens.

Well, assuming it fell
out of the victim’s pocket

it might be his room key.

Oh, yes, that is an
obvious assumption.

Well, there’s
one way to find out.

Let’s get it dusted.

We weren’t able to find
any prints on this.

But I think we’ll get lucky.

No.

[glass breaking]

Stand back,
Mrs. F.

Hold it right there.

Neal.

Well, Mrs. F.,
you were wondering

what happened
to those research notes.

I think we just
found a link.

[doorbell ringing]

Oh, Sally.

I’m sorry
for coming over here

like this
without calling first.

But I’m really worried,
Mrs. Fletcher, and I need your help.

Oh, come inside, dear.

The sheriff’s
trying to find evidence

to tie Neal
to Randy’s murder.

You know, Neal and I,

we’ve had our ups and downs
but I love him

and I know he could
never hurt anyone.

Please, Mrs. Fletcher,
isn’t there anything we can do?

Well,
we can certainly try

not only for you and Neal
but also for Randy.

Sit down.

You know,
when Randy was my student

I always encouraged
him to follow the truth.

But I’m afraid
I have reason to believe

that the truth that he’d
found is what killed him.

But Randy
wasn’t only my student,

he was my friend and
something will be done about it.

But where do we start?

With you.

Now you said that he
wanted to see and talk to you

about some personal things.

What kind of
personal things?

Oh, nothing important.

Just stuff about me
growing up in Portland.

And I didn’t
want to talk about it,

not with Randy
or anyone else.

It’s not that interesting
growing up in an orphanage.

Not that special either.

The first time in my life
I ever remember being happy

was when I was
adopted by the Bates.

And I moved here to
Cabot Cove when I was ten.

Did he ask you
anything particular?

Not really.

He just wanted to know
everything about my early days in Portland

and to take a look at
some of my personal stuff,

papers, pictures,
things like that.

Sally, could you
bring some of those

personal papers here to me?

I take it the bail money
arrived in time.

It did. Thanks.

Are you gonna tell me

why you were
searching that guy’s room?

I think I have
a pretty good idea.

You were trying to
protect me, weren’t you?

No.

Neal, all these years
you’ve never lied to me.

All right.

Okay, yes.

Look, I didn’t know
what kind of secrets

Randy had dug up
for that book of his,

but I didn’t
want it to hurt you.

You were willing to go
to jail to protect me.

I never told you
the full story of what happened

that day 30 years ago.

I guess
it’s about time I did.

You don’t have to, dad.

No, no, no, I want to.

We were all very close,

Emily and Margaret
and Owen and me.

We used to go
everywhere together,

do everything together,
just the four of us.

One afternoon

we were out in the woods,
north of town, bird hunting.

We became separated.

I went off to find margaret and Owen.
I didn’t see them at first.

I could hear
their voices raised in anger.

When I finally located them
I made the mistake of thinking

it was just
another lovers’ quarrel.

I didn’t want to intrude.

I love you.
You love me.

I heard Owen insisting

that their
relationship was over.

And something started
to happen to Margaret.

A craziness
I’d never seen before.

She was begging him
not to leave her.

And then suddenly I saw
her love turned to hatred

and then to fury.

She picked up
Owen’s shotgun.

Owen!

No!

The horror of what she’d done
completely unhinged her.

By the time I got her
back to Emily, she was gone.

She’d retreated into
some dark corner of her mind

and she never came out again.

I lied at the inquest.
I said it was an accident.

That she’d been loading the gun
when it went off.

Margaret was
totally insane by that time,

not even
able to stand trial.

It was better left that way.

I tried to get Randall Sloan
to forget about his book

because I didn’t
want the memory

of a dear friend dragged
through the dirt again.

And that is the truth,

all of it.

I didn’t have anything to do

with Owen Cooper’s death
30 years ago

and I didn’t have anything to do
with Sloan’s death now.

All right, Jess,
what is it?

I can practically
see the wheels turning.

Listen, Seth,
you said yourself

that there was always talk

that Margaret Babbington’s
accident was more than that,

that she killed
Owen in a lovers’ argument.

Yes, I’ve heard that all along,
nothing new there.

Except--
except that the one question

that she was never
able to answer was why.

I mean, what would
prompt a woman

to kill the man
that she loved?

Maybe he was
trying to break up with her.

Perhaps, but she’d gone
through other relationships.

No, there was something
different at work here,

some reason
that made her react

with such anger and fear.

Hmm.

Good pie, Jess.

[woman] Operator.

Yes, operator.

I want a phone number
in Portland.

It’s the Cumberland
County Sanatorium please.

[phone ringing]

Administration, Bailey.

Hello, Mr. Bailey, my name is
Jessica Fletcher and--

J.B. Fletcher?

The writer from Cabot Cove?

Yes.

Well, what I can do for you?

I was wondering
if you could possibly

check the sanatorium’s records
for say 30 years back.

A Margaret Babbington died
while she was a patient there.

Could you tell me
what was the cause of death?

I will check.

We just put all those
records on microfilm.

Two seconds.

Seth.

Yes, thank you
very much, Mr. Bailey.

You’ve been very helpful.

So?

Seth, Margaret Babbington
died in childbirth.

There was a baby.

That’s what Randy found out.

That’s why he was killed.

Good heavens, do you know
what this means?

You knew, didn’t you, Emily?

You are Margaret’s cousin
as well as her best friend.

You knew
she was pregnant,

you knew that
Owen Cooper was the father,

you knew that’s what
they were fighting about

and you knew that’s why
Margaret killed him.

And you also knew
that Margaret died

in the sanatorium
in childbirth.

And you
kept that a secret too.

Yes.

It was an act of
kindness and compassion.

I loved Margaret.

I didn’t
want her child to live

with the stigma
of a mother’s crime.

So I made sure
that the record of birth was kept secret.

Surely, you can’t
think that I killed him.

You said that Randy
wanted to see you

and he came to the house,
didn’t he?

Yes, he came on the same night
that he was murdered.

I didn’t
want that book written.

And I couldn’t bear
the thought of Margaret’s

memory being dragged
through all that dirt all over again.

I offered him
a check of $100,000

if he would just go away
and forget the whole thing,

but he refused.

I hated him for that,

but I didn’t kill him.

You do believe me,
don’t you?

As it happens, Emily, yes,
yes, I do believe you.

From what I saw at the scene,

whoever it was
who killed Randy

was quick and athletic
and very strong.

All that pain,
all those lies

now seems they’ve all
come home to roost.

I’m afraid I can’t
offer you any milk today.

Janet forgot to bring some

when she stopped
by on Thursday.

Thursday?

Oh, no matter, Emily.

I’m afraid I wouldn’t be
able to stay for tea today.

There’s somebody
that I have to see.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

What are you doing here?

Waiting for you.

Me? Why?

Because I know
now who killed Randy Sloan.

You don’t mean me?

Come on, why would I...?

Because of the secret
that Randy discovered

during his research.

I’m sorry I don’t know
what you’re talking about.

So if you don’t mind--

Randy went
to see your mother

the night that he was murdered
on Thursday night,

the same night that you
stopped by her house for dinner each week.

$100,000
sure is a lot of money.

But I’m afraid
there’s no deal.

That’s probably more money

than you’ve ever seen at
one time in your entire life.

You’re a very
foolish young man.

You’re probably right,

but that doesn’t
change anything.

Something terribly
wrong happened here

and I’m gonna make sure
that it’s made right.

Margaret Babbington
was pregnant

when she was committed
to that sanatorium.

The child was
put up for adoption

and all the records
were sealed.

Well, I’ve cut through
all those sealed records

and I know
who that child is.

Who knows this besides you?

No one,
I haven’t told anyone yet.

Good.

And I don’t want you to.

Here, take this
and I’ll double it.

$200,000.

$300,000.

Mrs. Weymouth,
you don’t have enough money.

If you’ll excuse me.

All right, so I overheard
a conversation

between
Randy and my mother.

So what?

This book of Randy’s
had nothing to do with me.

I hardly knew Randy.

I had no reason to kill him.

I think you had
a very good reason.

Look, Mrs. Fletcher,

this conversation
is getting a little tiresome.

Whatever it is
you think you’ve come up with

you’ll never be able
to prove anything, anything.

I think I can.

May I?

This is your apartment
and your key.

This key was found
under Randy’s body.

It could’ve
only been accidentally

dropped there
by his killer.

After overhearing Randy’s
conversation with your mother,

you followed him
back here to the library, didn’t you?

Yes.

I just wanted to talk
some sense to him,

but he wouldn’t listen.

Every dime I have

it’s from the Babbington
side of the family.

If word had gotten out
that Margaret had a child

we’d have lost the entire
inheritance, we’d be ruined.

I offered him
everything, anything.

But he refused.

Yes.

And then?

Then I...

And then I--

It was as if I’d
lost touch with reality.

My head was swimming.

All I could feel was
a terrible hatred for him

and for what he was doing
to me and to my family.

I didn’t know
what I was doing.

I just knew I was terrified
of losing everything

and I couldn’t
let that happen.

I just couldn’t.

And that was the secret
that Randy discovered

that you were
Margaret Babbington’s daughter

and thus inherited her
entire estate.

Your story was going to be
the center piece of his book.

I still can’t believe it.

I mean, all that land
and the estate,

it must be worth over
a million dollars.

Or more like three.

No more doing two jobs
to go to night school either.

Oh, right.

I imagine that you and Neal
have some catching up to do.

Oh, but his father--

Has come a long way
in a very short time.

Run along.

That looks like
one Cabot Cove romance

that will be resuming.

Yes.

It’s funny, you know,

when Randy was my student

I taught him that whatever

the literary
establishment may think,

the best stories
always have happy endings.

And I think he got it.

Oh, yeah.