Mystery Woman: Mystery Weekend (2005) - full transcript
She's an avid mystery lover and bookseller, for whom crime has been comfortably confined to the pages of her favorite novels-until a real-life murder turns a weekend of fun and games into a chilling whodunit... The quaint mystery bookshop bequeathed to Samantha Kinsey may be struggling, but the idea she's concocted for the weekend should drum up some killer publicity-a book signing by three very popular and very competitive mystery writers: Maura Hobbs, Angela Cooke, and the reclusive Clare Beckman. Unbeknownst to Sam, Clare is using this "mystery weekend" to make the shocking announcement of her retirement. Just as Clare poses for a final career photograph, an ear-shattering gunshot rings out. Clare manages to dodge the bullet, but later falls victim to a cleverly planted poison. Wading through a long list of suspects and motives, Sam manages to uncover a convoluted plot of blackmail, greed, and deceit-a real-life mystery that would have thrilled Clare...had she lived to see it unfold.
Shhhh
Surprise!
Ah.
- Philby, Philby.
- I'm right here.
- Look at this.
- These are fantastic. Breaking
News Magazine's gonna love that.
- Better yet,
Breaking News Magazine will pay the expenses for our Mystery Weekend,
which is costing a little more
than I expected.
We'd better sell a lot of
books.
- Which reminds me,
look at these.
- Wow, they're in color.
Philby, they're beautiful.
But we can't afford this.
- Since when can't we afford
free?
- Free? What did you do,
Philby?
- Oh, I called in a favor.
- Who are you, Philby?
- A guy in need of a cup of tea
and a blueberry muffin.
Wanna join me?
- That is not an answer.
- Oh, has Night
Christy come in yet?
And the new Angela Cook?
- Oh, I'm fine, Dorothy.
Thanks for asking.
- Oh, I'm sorry.
But you know me, when I'm
expecting first editions,
I just can't
think of anything else.
- It's all right.
You're still my best customer.
- You mean I'm a mystery nut.
Aren't we all?
- Here they are, Dorothy. Your
Christy.
- Oh, gimme, gimme.
- Also, you're Candace Robb,
your Ellen Hart,
your Janet Evanovich,
your Angela Cook,
and your Christy's on top.
- Speaking of Angela Cook, how
would you like to meet her?
- Oh, would I.
- Well, Mystery Woman is
hosting a Mystery Weekend,
featuring guest writers,
and Angela Cook is one of them.
We've got
cocktails, and book signings
and even a Q&A panel for fans.
- Ah.
Oh.
- Here you are, Dorothy.
- Oh, I'm really sorry.
- Here's your Christy.
- They slipped. Oh.
Thank you very much.
I'm late.
- I'll see you this weekend
at Thursday Night Mayhem.
What was that about?
- Oh.
It's very strange.
It's the tea.
Hello.
- Okay, I found it. Here it is.
- Try to come to
this, if you have a chance.
It'll be fun.
Thanks so much. See you.
Can I help you?
- Yeah, I saw your flyer in the window.
What's, uh, a Mystery Weekend?
- Meeting with authors, book
signings,
buying lots of books from the
bookstore owner.
Are you a mystery fan?
- No, I hate mysteries.
I'm a lawyer, I
don't like surprises.
- Then I won't try to convert
you.
- Oh, please, don't give up so
easily. Miss...
- Kinsey, Samantha Kinsey.
- Mm hmm. I'm Scott Teller.
Well, if anyone could, like,
like,
convert me into a mystery fan,
it would be you.
- Well, come to the Mystery
Weekend. I'll do my best.
- Hmm, I'll take that as a
personal invitation.
- Um, I'll introduce you to
people.
It's tough to be new in town.
- How did you know that?
- Well, you're not a tourist,
or you would have said.
And I know every lawyer in town.
- Hmm. I knew it.
This is why I left L.A.
No one knows anyone.
You have traffic jams, smog, two
hour commutes,
absolutely no sense of
community.
Hmm, nothing like a small town.
- No, there isn't. Welcome.
- Thank you. I think we'll
be seeing a lot of each other.
- People in small towns are
always bumping into each other.
- I'll count on it.
- Hmm, thanks for coming with
me, Cassie.
- You're welcome. I
love meeting new writers.
You never know what to expect.
- So, have you met the new
lawyer?
- Yeah, I heard the new lawyer came
to the courthouse to introduce himself.
Right, I wasn't in my
office, so I didn't meet him.
- Well, his name is Scott Teller.
And he came into the bookshop
- Oh?
- Yes. He saw the flyer.
He might come to the Mystery Weekend.
And what is he like?
- Yum.
- Really. Excellent.
- Mm hmm.
- Yes, well, Claire Beckman has
very expensive taste.
- Paid for by me.
When I got the fax requesting a
hotel suite for her
and her retinue, plus a limo,
wished I had invited another
writer.
- No, you don't.
You said that Claire Beckman hasn't attended a bookstore signing
since her very first novel.
You called her the Mystery Woman
Of Mystery.
- Well, then she's come to the
right bookstore.
I am just so glad Angela Cook
and Maura Hobbs
fell in love with their rooms at
Bell's B&B.
- Well, who wouldn't love four
poster beds and
homemade lemon poppy seed cake?
- Our elegant Claire Beckman.
Hi, I'm Samantha Kinsey. I own
Mystery Woman, the bookstore.
- For pity sakes, that's the
woman who's paying the bills.
Let her in.
- Hello.
- Welcome, I'm Grant Fuller,
Claire's fiancee.
- I'm Samantha. This is my
friend, Cassie Hillman.
Miss Beckman, I so admire your
books. You write the finest...
No, no, no...
...no, no, I'm, I'm
not Claire.
I'm just her assistant,
Beth Temple.
Oh, well, it's a
pleasure to meet you. Oh.
- Well, nice to meet you, both.
Room service.
I've been
waiting for you.
- We just came to welcome Miss
Beckman,
and make sure she's comfortable.
Oh, she is, very.
Paolo,
grazie.
- Is she here?
- Yes, she is. But
she's writing in there.
And she can't be disturbed.
- We wouldn't dream of
disturbing a writer at work.
- I'm sure she won't be more
than an hour or so,
if you'd like to wait.
- Uh, actually, we'd better
get back to the bookstore.
We have a lot to do before our
Mystery Weekend.
And tonight is our
weekly book club meeting.
- Oh, you mean, Thursday Night
Mayhem.
I read about it in the
invitation you sent.
You do more than your share to
promote mystery novels.
Writers appreciate it,
Miss Kinsey.
- It's my pleasure.
Please tell Miss
Beckman that we look forward to
meeting her at
the cocktail party.
- Well, thank you, I will.
Oh. Hey. Champagne
anyone?
- No, we're working.
- All right.
- Oh, we don't have a picture
of Miss Beckman.
Would you happen to have one?
- No. Is that a problem?
- Oh, no, not at all. I'll just
take one tomorrow night.
- Cheers.
- Cheers. Mmm.
- I just love these hors d'oeuvres.
They're just delicious.
It was so funny, I, it was
smashing.
- Get your picture here, guys.
- Oh, yes.
Love my corsage.
- It looks beautiful. Very
nice, thank you.
Please,
- ...your turn.
- Of course.
Nice smiles everyone.
- Lovely. Everybody having fun?
- Oh, yes.
- Yeah. - Good.
- Yes, thank you.
Wherever do you get your ideas,
Miss Cook?
- Oh, from the
newspapers mostly.
- Miss Hobbs, what about you?
- Since my sleuth is an artist
in the Elizabethan Age,
I rely on historical research
for accuracy.
- I love historical novels.
- In your latest,
William Shakespeare's on trial for murder.
I didn't read about that. Was he
convicted?
- Everybody seems to be having
a pretty good time.
- Yeah. But where
is Claire Beckman?
Oh, yeah. It
just come to me.
No, I haven't
finished that one yet.
- Excuse me.
- Hey, you came.
- I had a personal invitation.
Quite a party you have here.
- Yeah.
Cassie.
- Hey. - Hi.
You look pretty.
- Oh, thank you.
- Um, Cassie,
this is Scott Teller.
Remember I told you about him.
- Um, you described him
perfectly. I'm Cassie Hillman.
- The Assistant DA?
- Yeah.
- Huh, what a pleasant
surprise.
I've heard nothing but good
things about you.
- Well, that's nice to hear.
- Cassie, will you show Scott
to the bar?
I actually have to call the hotel and check on Claire Beckman.
- Okay.
- Hey, Birdie.
My schedule clearly said that
writers are to arrive by 8:00.
- Maybe Claire Beckman
didn't get her schedule.
- Fiddly Dee. She's
making a late solo entrance,
so people will think
she's the star of the weekend.
It's a ploy to sell
books. Her sales have dropped.
- Yeah, I've heard you have a solid conviction, rate.
Now I know why.
- Tell me.
- Bad guys get one
look in those eyes
and they just
fall down and confess.
Seriously. No DA should
be as pretty as you.
It's not fair to the defense.
Just promise me one thing,
if we're ever sitting on
opposite sides,
you'll dowdy yourself up and
wear glasses. Cheers.
Cheers.
- Is something wrong?
- No one's answering
Claire's hotel suite.
- You think something's
happened to her?
- I don't know.
I'm gonna give them two minutes and then I'm going over there.
- Whoa, who is that?
Humph.
Mmm.
Hmm.
- Welcome to Mystery Woman,
Miss Beckman. I'm...
I know
who you are. And thank you.
Thank you for this fabulous
weekend.
- Miss Beckman, would you
please. I'm your biggest fan.
And please accept this
humble gift from my flower shop.
- It's lovely. But, alas, I
only wear white flowers.
Some of my fans get a little
too obsessed for comfort.
Besides, you don't really think
anybody's gonna mistake me for a
mystery fan, do you? Or
even one of the other writers.
- Oh, actually, have
you met Angela and Maura?
- I'd love to, darling. But, first,
I need to make a little announcement.
Everyone, um, may I have
your attention?
This will only take a moment.
Since I owe
everything I am to my fans,
I feel it's only right
that I should tell you first.
My current novel
is also my last.
- Oh, oh.
- I'm retiring.
Oh, oh,
- I've bought a tiny island,
between Hawaii and Fiji,
where I'll be going
for a long overdue rest.
After all, I've written 32
novels in 22 years,
more than Miss Hobbs and Miss
Cook put together.
- And I want, one can only hope
they're sharks.
- Since this is my final book
signing,
I can assure all of you that the
books you purchase this weekend
will become collector's items.
- Uh, um, this is
an unexpected twist.
But, then, um,
Miss Beckman has been surprising us readers for 22 years.
Oh, please don't.
Oh.
- I'd like to get
a picture of you.
- Of course.
- Okay. - Of course.
- Um, Miss Hobbs, Miss Cook.
- Of course.
- So, whenever you're ready.
- Oh, just give me one moment.
Thank you.
I'm gonna give you
a variety of poses.
Great.
Great.
Lovely.
- Nice.
- Whoa, whoa.
- Ow.
Cassie.
- Oh, my God.
Is she all right?
- I'm fine. It's just my arm.
- You're not fine...
- ...you're bleeding.
- You know, she could be in shock.
- I am so sorry.
- Why? You didn't
shoot me, did you?
- Would you stop being so
brave? You just got shot.
- Ah, ah.
- You know, I'll, I'll go
to the hospital with her.
Okay, I will be
there as soon as I can, Cassie.
Are you all right?
- I don't know.
- Someone just tried to kill her.
Of course, she's not all right.
- Oh.
- Chief Connors
- Well, this is a
mess. What happened?
- A shot was
fired. It hit Cassie.
But I think it was intended for Claire Beckman,
that woman right over there.
- Cassie, our Cassie Hillman?
The Assistant DA?
- Yes. But, I think it was
intended for...
- Get a hold of Hillman's
cases and recent convictions.
Find out if
somebody's got a beef with her.
Your friend here says somebody
took a potshot at you.
Anybody been
threatening you lately?
- Can't you see she's in shock?
- Oh,.
All
right, take a deep breath.
Now listen, I'm sure
this was very upsetting.
- All right, listen up, people.
Nobody leaves the premises until
you've been interviewed
and checked for gun powder
residue.
- Oh. No, we...
- Understood.
All right, where were you when
the shot was fired?
- Uh, I was right here.
- Mm hmm. And you?
- Well, I was just sitting
there watching the Mayhem...
- Chief, you need to see this.
Doctor Wade, ...
- Cassie Hillman.
- Hi.
- Hey.
- How are you feeling?
- Floating like a
butterfly, stinging like a bee.
- They gave you a little
something for the pain, huh?
- Exactly. Did they catch a
man, or her?
- Oh, not even close.
We found the gun, though.
Chief Connors sent it
straight over to the lab.
And then he proceeded to
question everybody in the shop,
as though they were escaped felons.
Even poor Mrs. Blair.
- Oh. She's 92. Uh,
Connors can be such a jerk.
- You know Connors. Everybody
on the scene is a suspect.
- Why don't I leave you girls
to, uh, to talk. Okay?
I'll, uh,
I'll see you later.
- Were we ignoring him?
- No.
Maybe.
You know,
that he insisted on getting into the ambulance with me.
He held my hand the entire way,
and told me everything
was gonna be all right.
- That is so sweet.
- I know.
- Most guys aren't that sensitive.
- I know.
Hello.
- Hey,
here's your update.
- Uh, no, this is Samantha Kinsey. Hold on one second.
- All right.
- It's your office. They said
you asked for an update.
- I have a weird interest in
this case.
Hello.
- Hey, your piece here belongs
to Dorothy Bayer.
- You're kidding.
- Wouldn't joke about that.
- Okay, thank you.
- Yeah.
- You're not gonna believe this.
The gun is registered to Dorothy Bayer.
- Dorothy? Come on, that can't
be.
- I know, it's bizarre.
She's lived in the town, what 15 years?
- She's practically Ma Walton.
- My assistant told me that Chief Connors
is waiting for the judge to wake up,
so he can obtain a warrant for
her arrest.
- No, I just can't believe,
you get some sleep.
I'm gonna go run an errand.
- Don't get into any trouble.
Who me?
The local news is Assistant District Attorney Cassie Hillman was wounded
in a shooting incident at the
Mystery Woman downtown.
- The radio said Cassie was
shot.
- She's okay.
- Oh, thank God.
- Personally, I don't think the
bullet was intended for Cassie.
- Really? Well, then for whom?
- Claire Beckman.
When the shot was fired,
Claire leaned over to catch some books from falling,
Cassie got the bullet.
- You think someone
tried to kill Claire Beckman?
- From where I was standing,
that's how it looked.
And then, of course, Chief
Connors questioned everybody.
Who are you? Why are you here?
You got a beef with the Assistant DA?
You know how he is.
- But, Claire Beckman, is she
all right?
- Outside of some minor
hysterics, yes.
Where were you last night? I
missed you.
Oh, well, uh, I couldn't come, I,
got this cold coming on.
- You poor thing.
Well, some tea and honey and lots of rest. I'll call you later.
- Well, thank you.
- By the way, Dorothy. Do you
own a gun?
- Me? Heavens no.
- You might wanna rethink that
answer.
I just can't
believe Dorothy did it.
I know, I know, she owns the gun.
But, I've known Dorothy forever and she's...
She's not
capable of murder?
- Unfortunately, under the right circumstances,
everybody's capable.
- It's true. Then what makes
you think Dorothy didn't do it?
- A real mystery buff, like
Dorothy,
would never make
such obvious mistakes.
I mean, if Dorothy
were going to kill someone,
she wouldn't
use her own gun, A.
And B, she would have prepared
an alibi. That's Murder 101.
- Well, maybe.
But you saw her reaction when she looked at our flyers.
It was absolute panic.
- I know, you're right.
But if this hinges
on strange behavior,
we have to think about Beth and
Grant.
Did you see the looks on their
faces
when Claire announced her
retirement?
- They were stunned, but still.
The attempt was made with Dorothy's gun.
- I know.
But there is no connection between Dorothy and Claire Beckman.
So that means there's no motive.
- Can I open the door?
- Yeah, make it fast.
- Ever since the attack on
Claire,
reporters have been coming in,
reporters wanting interviews.
Our next two events are sold
out.
Everybody loves a murder.
Doctor Gordon to
Pediatrics.
- Hey.
- Hey.
- Blueberry scones from
Madeline's Bakery.
- How did you
know I was starving?
- Any news from Chief Connors?
- They searched Dorothy's
house.
And they found mystery books and
memorabilia,
including a plastic replica of the Maltese Falcon and scrapbooks.
- Nothing else?
- No. In Chief
Connors' opinion,
her obsession with murder
pushed her over the edge.
- Okay. So, reading mysteries
leads to attempted murder.
That makes a lot of sense. Did
she have a lawyer?
- Yes. Scott. Now I can't talk
to him about the case.
How's that for star-crossed?
- Well, maybe a man who sends
roses doesn't wanna talk shop.
Love, Scott.
Scone?
- Very pretty.
- Mm hmm.
- Open on the gate. Four, one,
two, nine, six.
- Break back.
You have 10 minutes.
- How are you, Dorothy?
- Confused. This has
all happened so fast.
But my lawyer, Scott Teller,
he's a very smart young man.
And he's new in town.
- I know him, Dorothy.
What is he telling you?
- Well, Scott says that the evidence against me is all circumstantial.
- It is. What else?
- Well, when I told him that I was at the Group Thursday Night Mayhem,
he, oh, he liked that name.
He said anyone could have sneaked into my house and stolen my gun.
- A distinct possibility. What
else?
- Well, um,
I've been an upstanding member of this community
for over 15 years.
I don't even have a parking ticket.
And Scott says it wouldn't take
Perry Mason
to convince a judge that I am an
unlikely killer.
- I agree with that. But, why
did you lie about owning a gun?
- It was nobody's business.
- You're right. Your
gun is nobody's business.
But, to lie about having it makes it look like you're hiding something.
- If that's what
you want to think.
- Dorothy, what I
want is to help you.
We've been friends for a really
long time.
Just tell me what I can
do for you.
- I don't need your help.
- Watch yourself.
This is
fascinating.
The murder weapon is poison,
distilled from foxglove.
Something wrong?
- I need your help, Philby.
Unit 17,
please respond to the corner of Grand and Third,
possible 5150.
- Come on, come on.
- Breaking and entering makes
me so hungry.
Hey, how'd you know the police
were coming?
- Try this.
- Huh. It's a radio set to the
police frequency. I want one.
- Sorry. It's a prototype, one
loaned from a former employer.
It has an unusual range.
- Really? From how far can you
pick up signals?
- Beijing.
- Huh.
- You said the name on the
check stub was CSC Services.
- Each check was written for $900.
Dorothy's scrapbook surprised me.
All those clippings of real life
cases.
Dorothy has never shown any
interest in true crime stories.
- I know. But she was an avid
fan of Mary Dehimes.
And Dehimes' sleuth Emma Lord.
She ran a newspaper.
- That's right.
Dorothy once said the journalists make the best snoops,
because people
answer their questions
just to hear
their names in print.
- Were there any bank records,
any collection letters, was
she in financial trouble?
- I don't know. I
didn't have time to look.
- I've been to CSC Services, locally,
regionally and nationally.
But nothing.
There's no listing of CSC Services anywhere in the country.
- It's strange.
I'm beginning to think our real mystery is Dorothy.
Oh, I gotta take Angela and
Maura to lunch.
It's the least I can do after
last night.
Neither one of
them sold any books.
- You can tell them tonight's
event is sold out.
- They will be thrilled.
- I'll see you later.
- Sold out, marvelous.
- You both are getting
a ton of phone numbers.
- I'm not surprised.
Last night's shooting made the news all across the country.
- Oh, that darling little Anderson Cooper did a story on CNN.
Real life mystery at Mystery
Bookstore.
Didn't you love the way he said it,
with that adorable little twinkle?
- CNN, I had no idea.
- You're famous, my dear.
- Well, the bookstore's famous.
He didn't mention her name.
- Okay, you guys are the experts.
Who do you think killed her?
- You.
- What?
- Motive, publicity for your
store.
- Means, the gun belonged to
one of your friends,
and was rigged in your store.
- Opportunity.
- Ample.
- Congratulations, Samantha.
Your grand publicity stunt
worked like a charm.
- I wish we'd thought of it.
- But my best friend got shot.
- Oh, glitch in your plot.
Happens to the best of us.
- I did not try to kill Claire.
- Of course, you
didn't, darling.
More likely one of
these biddies did it.
- Your theory is as trumped up
and phony as your books.
- That's vile.
Claire's work is brilliant.
Her plots are meticulous, her characters speak...
- That's enough...
- ...Beth. Can't you see these
hacks are just jealous?
- Huh.
- Come.
- O-oh, lobster salad with shaved truffles,
my favorite. Waiter.
And thanks again for lunch,
dear.
- It was so rich.
- Almost too rich.
The usual?
- Hey, Grant.
- May, ho.
- Something wrong?
- Uh uh. No.
Just because Claire decided to
call off our engagement
doesn't mean I'm not having a
wonderful time.
- She called it off? Why?
- Yeah. Suddenly I remind her of her ex-husband, Dennis,
who dumped her.
Got half her money, ran off to
Nova Scotia.
She's still sending him checks.
- Man, you must be devastated.
- I do everything for Claire.
She's the love of my life.
- I can see that. Well, just
give her some time.
It could be that what happened
last night,
you know, getting shot at and
all,
might have unnerved her.
- Claire, unnerved.
You think so?
- It's entirely possible.
- Yeah, it's really nice of you
to say. Thank you.
- First they accuse me of
attempted murder,
and then they order lobster
salad.
That reminds me of a
mystery by Eleanor James.
This family is so delighted at the death of their tyrannical father,
they cover up for the brother
who did it.
They like you. They hate Claire.
- But they love solving
mysteries, no matter who did it.
I checked with Bell's B&B,
Angela and Maura were telling the truth.
Neither one of
them left after dinner.
- The ex-husband, what was his
name?
- Dennis.
Grant said that Claire was still sending him checks.
What if somehow he knew that she
was retiring?
That would no more checks for
the ex.
Could that make him angry enough
to kill her?
- Well, maybe.
- Maybe not.
- Well, there's no listing of
Dennis Beckman
in the Nova Scotia Directory.
He's probably unlisted.
- We have to find him, Philby.
- ID, please.
Very good. Request, please.
- Background and whereabouts of
Dennis Beckman.
Rumored to be in Nova Scotia.
- Dennis Beckman currently teaches Middle School English in Halifax.
He's been confined to a
wheelchair
since an automobile
accident two years ago.
He's about to marry his physical
therapist.
- Huh.
- Anything else?
- Yes. Give my regards to the
PM.
- Thank you, sir. He'll be
pleased to hear from you.
- Did you hear that? Claire's
ex, he can't easily travel.
And he's giving up the money
himself by remarrying.
The PM? Philby.
You're a spy.
- Samantha. Your flowers for
tonight.
Including this beautiful
corsage, a real stunner.
I'm supposed to drop it
off at the hotel.
- Who ordered all this?
- Claire Beckman. She does have
class, doesn't she?
- Yikes.
Hey, so the appetizers will be
ready in 20 minutes.
And then, and I
hate to ask you, Philby.
But do you mind picking them up?
Oh, thank you so much.
Honestly, I'm
running way behind.
And I haven't even
gotten dressed yet.
- I'll be out in a second.
I said I'll be out in a second.
Oh.
- Huh, huh. Scott, uh.
- I didn't mean to spook you.
Huh. You didn't startle me.
- You always carry a
bottle of acid with you?
- Okay, so I was
a little spooked.
- I thought you might have time for a little, um,
private celebration,
before the big event.
Where are the glasses?
- Well, they're there, but...
- No buts. You work too hard.
Oh.
- To the nicest surprise of my
life,
and the luck that brought us
together.
To you, Samantha.
- To luck.
You guys still having fun?
- Oh, yeah.
- Wonderful.
- Okay, good.
I think we're all set.
- That's good. Let's hope there
are no surprises tonight.
Uh huh.
Hi.
Hey, Cassie. How
are you feeling?
- Fine. Honestly.
- Doesn't she look great? You
look great, too.
- Well, here we are again,
waiting for Claire.
- Well, she's certainly mastered the art of the grand entrance.
- Oh, peculiar talent for such
a reclusive writer.
- Well, she has written 30-something books over the last 22 years.
I mean, that is an
astonishing amount of work.
She'd have to be reclusive.
- Or crazy as a Betsy bug.
Speak of the
devil.
- Gentlemen.
- Miss Beckman, a few reporters would like to talk to you.
Would that be okay?
- Oh, of course. I'd be happy
to speak to anyone who asks.
But let's do television first,
while my makeup's still perfect.
- I totally get it.
You know what?
Everyone, may I have your attention, please?
- Huh.
- I think it's important that before we begin tonight's festivities,
we have a round of applause for
our lovely hostess.
Yes.
That's not necessary.
Thank you.
- Oh, oh, oh.
- Oh.
- Oh.
- Claire.
- Let's just step back and give
her some room, okay.
Everything's gonna be okay.
- This is real.
- She's dead.
- Watch your back.
- This is good.
- Let me help you, okay. I'm so
sorry.
- Stay away from her.
- If at first you don't
succeed.
- She collapsed.
- Last night somebody takes a
shot at her.
Tonight she just up and dies.
- Beth, I can't imagine how
difficult this is for you.
But we need to find out what
happened to Claire.
Did she have any health
problems?
- High blood pressure, very.
- Did you hear that?
- High blood pressure. So?
- So she could have had a
stroke.
- The coroner will determine
the cause of death, Miss Kinsey.
That's what he does. Until then,
listen up, people.
Nobody leaves the premises until you've all been interviewed.
- Oh.
- And no cell phones.
- Oh.
- You see anybody pull out a
cell phone, confiscate it.
We don't need the whole world
knowing about this.
And nobody leaves town without
my permission.
You try it, you'll
spend time in my jail.
- Hmm
- Oh.
- And you won't like the food.
- Ah, oh.
- Your Mystery Weekend's over.
And this is a crime scene now.
Boys take the body.
- All right?
- I don't believe it. I mean I
can't, I can't believe it.
- Were you aware that Claire
had high blood pressure?
- She didn't, she didn't
mention it, to me.
But she was taking medication.
- What kind of medication?
- Just always assumed that they
were happy pills.
- Sam.... Sam, I'm going to the
coroner's office
to wait for the
preliminary report.
- Are you sure
you feel up to it?
- Yes, I feel up to it. You
need to stay here.
I'll get a ride from an officer.
- Okay, I'll be
there as soon as I can.
- You know,
I don't like the way the chief was talking to you.
- He's just mad because someone
broke the law in his town.
He takes it personally.
- But if he ever does accuse you,
I'll be happy to represent you.
Officer, can we
have a cigarette?
Just think of the time
we can spend together.
- In jail?
- Okay, you got me.
Let's get out of here
and have a drink.
- I would love to, but, you
know, after all that's happened.
- I'm gonna keep asking.
- Hey, Cassie. So sorry to keep
you waiting.
I had to stay until everyone
left.
- Perfect timing, the prelim
just came in.
- All ready?
- Well, the coroner doesn't
come in at night, very often.
I asked him very nicely.
- You flirt?
- I needed the practice. Scott asked me out.
- He asked me out, too.
- Really?
- I guess he likes us both.
- But he knows that we're
friends. That's tacky.
- Maybe tacky in a small town
is sophisticated in a big city.
- Yeah, lots of men go out with
more than one woman at a time.
- Yeah, men we don't wanna
date. What do you have?
- The cause of death is a
reaction
to an unknown toxin of blood samples being sent to the lab.
Tomorrow
morning...
- Let me see that.
Well, isn't
that interesting?
And I thought you just hugged
her to death. Miss Hilman.
Chief
Connors.
- Since when does the
District Attorney's Office
share
information with civilians?
- What information? We were
talking about our boyfriend.
- I'm gonna go.
- This is Chief Connors.
I need you to prepare three search warrants for those addresses
that I left on your desk. Yeah,
leave the top section blank.
As soon as the report comes back from Toxicology,
we'll fill that in,
slap them down on the judge's desk and get his John Hancock on them.
Come on, let's go. Huh.
What, no, no, all right, now
listen to me.
Make sure that you
do not let our little
Assistant DA know
what we're up to.
- Because all she does is blab
to her little girlfriend.
All right, it's
about time.
Come on, speedy, let's go, let's
go. Clean it good tonight.
- Cassie.
- I knew you'd be back here, my
ride home.
- I need to see Claire's
clothes.
- Her clothes? But we don't
know yet what toxin killed her.
- I'm not looking for what, I'm
looking for how.
She hugs me and then dies of a
reaction to a toxin?
It had to get into her system
somehow.
- I don't know.
- Two minutes, two minutes,
please.
- Letting you in here could so
get me fired.
- Ow.
I found a vial and a needle attached to the corsage.
I pricked my finger on the
needle.
- Oh, my God.
- I'm still alive.
- So the corsage wasn't
poisoned.
- So it seems.
- Huh.
- Hey, Dan.
Are you sure it was Claire Beckman who ordered those flowers?
You recognized her voice?
- Well, I wish it
was Claire that called.
I would have loved to have
spoken to her direct.
Actually, the order came
in via fax from the hotel.
- Terrific. So it could have
been anyone. Okay, thanks.
- Aye, Samantha,
do you know if the police wanna
collect that fax as evidence
- Why?
- A murdered mystery writer's
last signature,
together with a fax ordering what CNN is calling the flowers of doom.
Uh, I'm thinking 10, 15 thou.
- Nothing sells like murder.
- Ain't that the truth?
- Samantha, I just heard. It's
awful. Such a fabulous writer.
But it does get me off the hook.
- Does it? How?
- Last night I had dinner at
Bell's B&B,
and then I spent the evening
player poker with Christy Bell.
I won nine dollars, and an
ironclad alibi.
- Claire was poisoned by a
toxin someone planted on her,
before she got to my bookstore.
- Poisoned? Not shot?
- Dorothy, what made you think
you'd need an alibi?
You're hiding something,
Dorothy. What is it?
- I don't have to answer your
questions.
- No, you don't.
But if I were you, I would
rather answer my questions
than wait for Chief Connors to
ask them.
I'm your friend, he is not.
- I don't have anything to say.
- A poisoned corsage?
A poisoned corsage was the weapon in Claire Beckman's first novel,
The Prom Queen Murder.
- A copy of which was on Dorothy's shelf,
so we know she's read it.
- A lot of people have read it,
including me.
- But, Philby, everything is
pointing to her,
her gun, her lies.
- I just got a call from the
lab.
The toxin that killed Claire was
bee venom.
- Bee venom? Well, no wonder it
didn't affect me.
I'm not allergic.
Only someone very close to Claire would
know she's allergic to bee venom.
Dorothy didn't know her.
There's no way she
could have done it. Huh.
- Bee venom, oh, what a sublime
idea. I smell bestseller.
- Me, too. It's a brilliant
poison.
It works only on people who
are allergic to bee stings,
which narrows the
field of suspects.
I just wish that Chief Connors would give us permission to leave.
I need to get back to my work.
- At least the weekend hasn't
been a total loss.
I'm going home with a plot for
my next Magnum Opus.
- Oh, no, you don't, Angela.
I'm doing Claire's murder.
- Wait, wait, wait, wait. You
can both do it.
You write contemporary mysteries,
so you use the bee venom.
And your Elizabethan victim could be locked in a room with a beehive.
Excellent.
- Okay, I'm gonna leave you ladies to your creative discussions.
How are you holding up?
- Well, I still can't believe
that I've lost her.
- You poor thing.
Didn't you really lose Claire when she broke off your engagement?
- Actually, Claire
was coming around.
No, you were right, Samantha.
After the attempt on her life,
she was so upset,
she wasn't thinking clearly.
- So are you saying the
engagement was back on?
- I was there last night,
wasn't I?
- It's true, you were.
If you don't mind me asking, how
did you and Claire meet?
- In an elevator, at a resort
spa in Arizona.
Claire was there recovering from
some cosmetic procedure.
I stepped into the elevator and there she was,
arguing with Dennis.
He was shouting, she was
shrieking.
- What were they fighting
about?
- Well, let me see, um, Dennis
was upset,
angry because of
something that she hadn't
told him before
they'd gotten married.
Oh, he was
furious.
- What happened next?
Well, I winked at her. And
she laughed.
And the rest is roses, as they
say.
And divorce, and happily ever
after for us, until last night.
- Did you know that Claire was
allergic to bee stings?
- Claire liked international
spas and luxury resorts.
We didn't really encounter a lot
of bees.
- And what about the
medication?
- I looked at the bottle of
Reserpine.
It's a common blood
pressure medication.
- So Beth was
telling the truth.
- Am I interrupting something?
- No, not at all.
Please, come in.
- Beth, I just, uh,
wanted you to know that I'm so sorry for your loss.
Can I do anything for you?
- That's very kind, but, no.
I'm packing.
- Are you leaving?
- Well, Chief Connors hasn't
given us permission, yet.
But, until he does, I'm moving
to Bell's B&B.
This suite is far too
expensive.
- No, please stay.
You have too much on your mind to think about moving for a day or so.
- Thank you. I miss her so
much.
- You worked with Claire for a
long time?
- Yes. She hired me straight
out of school.
- Well, you must have been
invaluable to her,
especially since she
was away so much.
Most writers are
chained to their desks.
I understand
Claire liked to travel.
- Grant told you this?
- He mentioned it.
- Claire could dictate anywhere,
under any circumstances.
She was the most dedicated
writer I've ever known.
- Let me help you with this.
Thirty-one books, you'd have to
be dedicated.
Maybe it's too early to ask, but
do you have any plans?
- I'm executor of Claire's
literary estate.
- That should keep you
busy for a while.
- No one knows this yet,
but Claire's written several manuscripts that haven't been published.
- So there's more to come.
Well, that's good news for her readers.
- Claire won't be forgotten.
Her legacy will be my life's work.
- Well, Beth, if I don't see
you again, good luck.
I found this in the pocket of
Claire's cape,
the one she wore the night
Cassie got shot.
- It's a common gage of fishing
line.
You could buy it in any sporting
goods store.
- I think Claire staged the
attempt on her life herself.
That night when I asked to take her picture,
she put her cape back on.
And then she turned away,
presumably to check her makeup.
But what if she planted the wire
on one of these shelves,
and the other end of the wire was attached to the trigger on the gun,
which was aimed directly at her
chair?
So, whenever
you're ready.
- Oh, just give me one moment.
- Okay.
- Thank you.
- And then when she was certain
no one was looking...
- Then she pocketed the wire.
But how could she be certain she wouldn't accidentally shoot herself?
By acting like a prim Donna.
- I'm gonna give you a variety
of poses.
- Great. She dramatically threw
open her cape,
knocking off a pile of books.
And when she bent down to pick
them up,
- Oh.
- Bang. Angela was right, it
was a publicity stunt.
- Her sales were slipping.
She wanted to retire. She needed a boost.
- But she didn't wanna die. I
doubt she rigged the bee venom.
- Oh. Well, a publicity stunt's
no good, unless you survive it.
- I have a warrant to search the
premises for the presence of bee venom.
Go to it.
- Yes, sir. Follow me.
- You can wait outside.
There's nothing
here, we're moving on.
I'll meet you at Dorothy Bayer's house.
- All right, chief.
- The writer you invited to town gets shot at with your friend's gun.
And the only thing they got in
common is you.
- Chief.
- I'm not accusing you of
anything, Miss Kinsey.
But I have never investigated a
premeditated murder,
where the victim and the prime
suspect have never met.
Let's go.
- They had to know each other.
- Those have
got covers on them.
Those are first editions, for
God's sakes.
There's nothing inside of them.
Please, you gotta watch those books.
Samantha. Oh,
Samantha, please come in.
These men are wrecking my house.
It's just not fair.
- Dorothy, you can't take this
search personally.
It's standard police procedure.
They searched my bookstore.
- They did?
- Scene of the crime.
They wrecks the place, it's
their job.
- You, stop shaking that skull.
You set that down.
It's ceramic and it will break.
They're amateurs, amateurs.
I swear, if they do find any evidence,
they'll just trample over it.
Oh, don't tell me. You've found
my HC Bailey.
- You can thank Philby. He
found a collector in Maine.
The poor guy has to sell his entire collection to pay back taxes.
- I would love to collect first editions.
But the best cost thousands.
- Well, they're worth it.
- You have quite a collection.
Admit it, Dorothy, you're a
secret Internet billionaire.
Don't I wish? I have a small inheritance.
It's not much.
But I live very frugally. And
books are my only indulgence.
- Speaking of books,
I just heard that Claire Beckman left several unpublished manuscripts.
- Really? Oh, now that's
something to look forward to.
- You like Claire's work?
- Oh, it's wonderful.
It's logical, detailed, full of surprises.
She kept readers guessing.
- That she did. When did you
meet her?
- Oh, I didn't. Remember? I
missed the cocktail party.
- That's strange.
Because Claire knew you.
Well enough to know you had a
gun in your house.
- Well, how could
Claire know that?
- I'll tell you a
secret, Dorothy.
Claire Beckman staged the first
attempt on her life.
- You don't mean that.
- The thing I couldn't understand
is why Claire would steal your
gun for her publicity stunt.
- Well, it doesn't make sense.
- I figure she broke in and
took it,
while you were at
Thursday Night Mayhem.
- Well, that could be, but...
- Claire staged the attempt on
her life, for publicity.
But why did she wanna frame you?
- Frame me?
- She used your gun. It's
registered.
She knew it would
lead back to you.
Every mystery fan knows that
when one person frames another,
the motive is to get rid of that person who's causing them trouble.
What kind of trouble were you
causing Claire Beckman?
- I didn't know her.
- Okay. Let's pretend that
this is a novel.
You have this character,
who lives on a pension. But she
buys first editions.
Where does this
character get the money?
- She's frugal.
- If this character spent every
cent of her pension
on one HC Bailey,
it wouldn't be enough.
My guess is this character has
been blackmailing someone.
- That's ridiculous.
- Then you don't mind if the police go through your bank records?
You're not worried they're gonna
find large sums that have been
transferred from Claire's
account into yours?
Dorothy, what do you know about
Claire Beckman
that she's trying to
hide? Tell me.
- Recognize this?
We found it in your desk about an hour ago,
stuffed under a scrapbook.
CSI just
confirmed it's bee venom.
Excuse me.
You're under arrest for the
murder of Claire Beckman.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
- I didn't kill her, Samantha.
- You have the right to have
an attorney...
- The real killer is going to a
lot of trouble to frame Dorothy.
That bottle of bee venom was not in her desk,
when I went through it.
- I admire your
loyalty, Samantha.
But Dorothy could have put that
bottle there herself.
She could have taken it from
somewhere else in the house.
- Dorothy would never leave the
murder weapon
in the first place the police
would look.
She would have hidden
it or buried it.
- Real life killers make more
mistakes than fictional ones.
You know that.
- In crimes of passion, yes.
But not in a murder as carefully
planned as this.
Someone planted that bee venom
in Dorothy's house.
- Is that what you're gonna
tell Chief Connors?
- Well, then I'd have to tell
him that I was in her house.
And he frowns on breaking and
entering.
- He also knows that you and
Dorothy are friends.
And you might be lying to
protect her.
- We'd know that Dorothy is
lying about something.
Maybe Grant and Beth aren't
telling all they know, either.
Philby, you said you knew Grant Fuller's father from Skull And Bones.
What's his first name?
- Um, Morgan. Morgan Fuller,
Boston.
- City and state, please.
- Boston, Massachusetts.
- What listing?
- Yeah, a listing for Morgan
Fuller.
- Just one moment, please.
- The grieving continues.
- Hmm. You sound like Beth.
Serious, serious.
You know, life is short, honey.
You gotta have some fun.
- You're right. Tequila Sunrise, please.
- You got it.
- So, what'd you think?
Will Claire's ex show up for her funeral?
- Unless he wanted to make sure
she was dead.
- You said he ran off to Nova Scotia.
It seems kind of drastic.
Why so far?
- Here you are.
- Well, when I said ran off, I
guess I was exaggerating.
He simply went home.
- He was born there?
- Yeah, so was Claire. And
they, they met in Halifax.
That's where they were married.
- Well, I'll say this for Claire.
People either loved her or hated her.
- And sometimes both in the
same day,
- Her fans loved her.
But, then they, didn't know her.
You and Beth loved her, but then
you both needed her.
- I didn't need Claire. I just
loved her.
- No, you needed her.
You're broke, Grant.
Your wealthy family disowned you.
- How did you know that?
- I called your father in Boston,
pretending to be the hotel manager.
I told him that you had instructed me to send him your bill.
- Oh, God.
- He said, no, vividly,
in language one does not expect
from a Boston Brahman.
- My father is an evil puritan
geezer.
- You were living off Claire.
- Yeah, you make me sound like
some kind of gigolo.
You know, I was Claire's
fiancee.
- So you say.
I only have your word that you and Claire reconciled.
- Why else would I have been at
your bookstore with Claire?
- I had an open bar.
Or you wanted to make certain
that your bee venom corsage
actually killed her.
My corsage? You're
out of your mind.
- Are you in Claire's will,
Grant?
- Yeah, I don't know.
- So you don't know where your next hotel suite's coming from,
do you?
- I wouldn't say that.
- Yoo hoo, sweetheart.
You little doll, you.
- Samantha.
- Sorry to bother you, again.
- Please, come in. I was just
typing Claire's last dictation.
Frankly, I was hoping you were
Chief Connors.
- Really? Most people try to
avoid him.
- I'd kiss him, if
he'd let me go home.
I wanna go home.
- I know you do. Beth, I have a
confession to make.
- Oh?
- The last time I was
here I took something.
- A souvenir?
- Not exactly.
I found a piece of fishing
wire in Claire's pocket.
The same wire that
was attached to the gun
used in the attempt
on Claire's life.
- I don't understand.
- I think I do.
Claire staged the first attempt herself, for publicity.
She'd never do that.
She didn't have to.
She was the finest mystery
writer in the world,
better than Agatha Christie.
- Do you remember the first
time I came to this room?
- With your friend, yes. What
of it?
- You said Claire
was in there writing.
- She, she was. She was
dictating.
- Maybe that's what she told
you. But what if she lied?
- Claire wouldn't lie to me.
- I said what if. Just think
about it, Beth.
She could have slipped out and
gone to Dorothy's house,
taken Dorothy's gun.
- She didn't do that. Why
would she do that?
- Book sales had dropped. She
needed the publicity.
And she wanted to frame Dorothy.
- She didn't even know who this
Dorothy person was.
- Sure she did. And someone as close to Claire as you,
would know that.
- I know nothing of this.
Why don't you ask this Dorothy
person if she knew Claire?
- I did. She lied.
- Killers lie.
- Hey, Cassie. Yeah, it's me.
- What?
- Could you do me a quick favor?
- Yeah.
- And check out a few names for me.
- Sure.
- Great. Pope...
- Uh huh.
- ...Lathen ...
- Uh huh.
- ...McClean ...
- Uh huh.
- McIsaac. They've all
been incarcerated.
- I'll see what they have.
- Oh, great. Oh, by the way, dinner's at the morgue tonight.
- How...
- Okay, I'll see you. Bye.
- I should not be doing this.
- Just one little peek, and I
will owe you so big, anytime,
anywhere, you call me, I'm
there.
- I'll remember that.
Hey, you have 30 seconds. Go.
- I knew it. I knew it.
- Knew what?
- CSC stands for Correctional
Services Of Canada.
- Canada, of course.
- Correctional Services Of
Canada, overseas
The Canadian Prison System,
including their Pension Department.
- And Dorothy's $900 checks
might be a pension.
- That's what I think.
So the question is why was Dorothy getting
a pension from the Canadian
Prison System?
I doubt they send pensions to
convicts.
- Is this Dorothy's weapon?
This is a service revolver.
- A police weapon?
- Yes
- Philby. I know what happened.
If you need me, I will be with Cassie.
I know what happened, Dorothy. I
know where you met Claire.
- You think you do.
- You were a guard at Plymouth
Prison in Canada.
The two killers from your scrapbook clippings,
Lathen and Pope,
they're still at Plymouth,
serving life sentences.
- So?
- So Plymouth was also the home
to these teenage girlfriends,
Lily McIsaac, and
Marcia McClean.
These girls killed Lily's mom,
because Lily's mom was taking her from Halifax to live in London.
The girls freaked out, at the
thought of being separated.
So one night, they
snuck into Lily's house
and they bashed the
mom's head in.
They then took all the money
from her wallet,
and broke a window to make it look like an intruder had done it.
- Not typical teens.
- Unfortunately, for them, Lily
started to miss her mom.
So, in a fit of grief or maybe
even conscience, she confessed.
Dorothy, you can stop lying.
Your employment records and fingerprints are still on file at Plymouth.
Once the DA finds them, you're
sunk.
- Well, it wasn't conscience
that made Lily confess.
Oh, maybe when she was alone,
she might have felt a twinge or two.
But, together, those two
were cold as ice.
- So you're admitting that
you knew them?
- Sam, I know the law on both
sides of the border.
It's your word against mine.
- Then you won't mind if I
finish my story.
- No, feel free.
- When they became adults, the
girls were released,
in accordance with Canadian law.
- Here, they would have tried
them as adults.
And they both had been given the
death penalty.
- And then Claire's first book
came out.
And you went to her first and only book signing,
aside from this weekend.
You, immediately, recognized her
as Marcia McClean.
And when the book was a hit,
you saw an opportunity to make some money.
So, you contacted her, and
threatened to expose her.
Do you actually think I am going to admit to blackmail?
- When you threatened Claire,
she paid up.
Because after all, it's very
different to write about murder
than it is to be
part of a sick duo,
that bludgeoned a
woman to death.
And then you saw the flyer for
the Mystery Weekend.
And you got really upset.
- I didn't kill Claire.
- I believe you, Dorothy.
And I have reason to believe
that somebody planted
that bee venom at your house.
But, unless you tell your story,
you could be convicted of murder.
- If I admit to blackmail, it
is over.
- Dorothy, you were
part of the system.
You're gonna have
to trust the system.
- The system I was a part of
doesn't have a death penalty.
Oh, Sam, go away.
- What about Claire, Dorothy?
Was she the instigator?
- Well, she planned the murder.
- Then what about Lily McIsaac?
- Lily did the actual killing.
Oh, she'd have done anything
that Claire wanted.
- And where is she now?
- Well, in a mental
institution, I suppose.
- She was mentally ill?
- She had to be.
Everyday, she would write this poetry,
it was dark, it was demented.
Poems about death. Oh, she gave
me the creeps.
- I'll be back.
- Sam, hey.
- Dorothy confessed that she
was blackmailing Claire Beckman.
But if Chief Connors asks, she's
gonna deny it.
So we still have to prove it.
- I checked out our boyfriend.
- And?
- He's been fired from
every law firm in L.A.,
Dover, Michigan to Cleveland,
Ohio.
He's been repeatedly sued for malpractice,
involving negligence.
- He's a terrible lawyer.
- Totally incompetent.
Every time he gets caught, he
moves to a new town.
- That's disgusting.
- It's criminal.
- He's slime. Thanks,
I'll see you later.
- Samantha. Chief Connors just
had a press conference.
He's so confident he has the right person.
He stopped all interviews.
And all the persons he's already interviewed are free to leave town.
- Grant and Beth will be on their way to the airport.
We gotta go.
Okay, Philby. Go to the bar and
see if Grant's there.
If he is, delay him. I'm gonna
go talk to Beth.
One of them has go to know the
whole story.
- I got it.
Hey, what's your hurry?
Bartender, let
me buy you a drink.
- I never say no. Huh.
- I'm glad this is over.
I warned Claire about obsessive
fans. But she wouldn't listen.
- She never believed a stalker
fan could kill her?
- For all her drama, she was
very naive.
- Well, I'm happy it's over,
too.
I just wanted to come say
goodbye.
- What are you doing?
- You're Lily McIsaac.
You and Claire killed your
mother, when you were 15.
- I don't know what you mean.
- When you were teenagers,
you gave each other homemade tattoos,
to symbolize your unbreakable
bond.
- No, Claire had the tattoo.
I liked her's, I,
I did this myself.
- Beth, no jury
will believe that.
Not after they hear your story.
Your mother's murder was
Claire's idea, wasn't it?
But you went along.
You'd do anything
to stay with her.
- Put that down.
- Seventy-six pages.
That's a nice beginning to your next novel.
- You have no
right, put that down.
- Claire didn't write the
mystery novels, you did.
You're a compulsive writer.
Thirty-one novels in 22 years.
That's not just
prolific, that's insane.
- Give me the manuscript.
- Writing mysteries was your
idea, wasn't it?
This time it was Claire
who went along.
She was more than
happy to take credit.
She loved the limelight as much
as you hated it.
Everything was great,
except Claire was being blackmailed by Dorothy.
And your book
sales were dropping.
You saw your world crumbling
around you.
So you devised a perfect plot, to boost your book sales,
and to frame your blackmailer.
And then your lives would be
perfect again.
But then Claire delivered a
terrible shock.
She announced her
retirement.
She didn't even tell
you about it, after.
- She was gonna abandon me.
After all I did for her.
- You killed for her.
You made her rich.
Not only was she leaving you,
she was taking your work to a
writer, as compulsive as you.
That's gotta be like tearing
your heart out.
- I lived for her. And she knew
that. But she didn't care.
She said we had enough money.
She wanted to be free.
She wanted to stop playing the
role of a novelist.
She said she was sick of it. She
wanted me to stop writing.
But I couldn't, I can't.
- I know you can't.
- Claire said a lot of things.
But it all added up
to one thing,
she wanted to
be free of me.
- So you started thinking. And
you did what you do best.
You came up with a plot.
With Claire dead,
you could continue publishing her manuscripts,
as though she had written them.
And Claire deserved to die, too,
didn't she? For leaving you,
for not loving you the way you loved her.
She broke your heart.
- I told her without her my
life was over.
And do you know what she said?
She said I was crazy.
She told me I should get a life.
Well, I had a life, but she took it.
So I took hers.
- If you kill me, you'd never
be able to explain it.
- I've been writing mysteries
all my life.
I'm sure I can come up with some kind of story everybody will believe.
- If you shoot me, this
goes in the fire.
- Ah. Oh.
- That's her. But how did she
get the bee venom?
- On the Internet by overnight
mail.
Apparently, there are 28 sites
for beekeepers.
Oh, weird little Beth would
know that.
- Dorothy, I just filed a
motion for your release.
- Not so fast.
Oh, your friend's gonna have plenty of time to read.
Miss Bayer, you're under arrest
for felony blackmail.
Three to five years,
- Hmm.
- You have the right to remain
silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you,
in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney to be present during your questioning.
If you cannot afford an attorney,
the court will appoint one for you.
- Huh.
- Bye.
- Do it again soon.
- What's wrong with you?
- Uh, first client in town's
been arrested three times.
- That is depressing.
- So you have to take pity and,
uh, have dinner with me.
- Dinner sounds great. Cassie
and I are going out for Italian.
- Uh, do you want me to join
you?
- Hmm. I want you to leave,
Scott.
Go find yourself a nice city somewhere,
with lots of golf courses,
where the clients you neglect
can sue you bankrupt.
The kind of city where you can
date five women at once,
and they won't compare notes.
A nice sleazy town where no one will
notice what an incompetent fool you are.
Hmm. I'm not quite
sure what to say.
- Try goodbye.
- Hmm, good job, girl.
I thought you'd like it.