Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 11, Episode 21 - Game, Set, Murder - full transcript

What woke you?
What woke you, Louise?

The wind, I think.

A shutter was banging.

I remember being frightened.

Why?

I don't know.

I wanted to find my mom.

Mommy!

Go on. Please.

And my mother was there.

He's doing it again! He's
doing it, he's killing Mommy!



He's killing Mommy!

Did he turn toward
you this time?

No.

When you find the courage to
allow yourself to confront the killer,

he'll never haunt you again.

It's been a year
of promises, Doc.

You're very close now.

Next Tuesday, then?

Yeah. Now, go
warm up for the Open.

All right. Bye.

Forget stage and TV rights,
my best legal advice is still to...

Okay! Take the money and run.

Writers.

Oh! Jessica. Present
company excluded, of course.



Listen, I'm sorry I'm so late, but
the cross-town traffic was terrible.

How much did
Mr. Hartley tell you, Jess?

Well, rushing off to Japan made
him uncharacteristically vague.

But it seems that you are
organizing a charity tennis tournament,

which he is sponsoring, and you
need a top-seed woman player?

Well, Ted told me that you're a
personal friend of Louise Henderson's,

that you know her father.

Now, Louise and Lane
are behind us all the way.

It's just her coach
that's hanging us up.

Anyway, Mr. Hartley thought maybe you'd
have some leverage with Wendy Maitlin.

Wendy Maitlin?

Portia, we have a real problem.

Hey, that's one ugly broad!

Come on, I'm gonna
take you out to lunch.

There's this awesome
Thai place over on 3rd.

Um, I can't. I want to say hello
to some friends from Cabot Cove,

and then Wendy's
scheduled a practice.

Doesn't Madame Coach
ever give you any time off?

A week before the
Open? Fat chance!

All right, tonight. There's a rad
reggae band playing down in Hangar 17.

Sorry, I'm gonna have
to disappoint you, Jamie.

Late hours are out for
the duration, right, hon?

Dad, I wasn't gonna...

If you're going to see Jessica, you
better change into something decent.

Sure, Dad.

Hey, Jamie, give us a break,
huh? She's got a tournament to win.

Yeah. Sure thing, Mr. Henderson.

And you're just the guy who's
gonna show her how to do it.

Well, Wendy and I didn't
end up on the best of terms,

to put it mildly.

Ted is perfectly aware
of that. Wendy's a...

How about a world-class louse?

Mea culpa, Jessica. I
was a pain in the butt.

That promotional tour
that we did together

wasn't the best of times for me,

and I'm sure that I made it
more than uncomfortable for you.

Look, Wendy,
there's no need to...

Yes, Jessica, I do.

Jessica's misfortune was being
around when they told me that my leg

was never going to do
what I wanted it to anymore.

Competitive tennis
was over for me.

Well, Wendy, I
really like your spirit.

Now, Ted believes
that I can persuade you

to let Louise play in
his charity tournament.

I would love to say yes, but I need
her to stay focused for the Open.

Only reason I'm here is because
this lady put a hammerlock on me.

Jessica! Portia.

Louise. It's so good to see you.

Me, too, darling.

Oh, I guess Coach had
the final word, huh, folks?

She did.

You want me to
stay focused. Yes.

Sorry, Jess.

There you are! Jessica.
Hi. How are you?

Hello, Lane.

Ms. Dekker. Excuse
the interruption.

Memorize this stuff, honey.

It's the responses to the questions
you're bound to get at the ESPN interview.

Dad, I'm 17 years old, I think I
can handle my own questions.

Just do it. And you
guys better hit it.

You've got a court
in half an hour.

I was really looking forward to
spending some time with you, Jessica.

I know. I'm leaving for
London at the end of the week,

but maybe we can
get together before that.

I'll call. Okay.

Ciao. Ciao.

Bye.

Jessica. Portia.

Hello. I couldn't
let it end like that.

It mustn't get you down.

Jamie.

Listen, nobody's gonna tell
us how to live our lives, okay?

Least of all Papa Svengali.

Jamie, you make
everything so much better.

I need to hear it, Louise.

I love you.

I love you, too, babe.

How come you never said those
words to me, Jamie? In Paris last spring?

I demand a rematch.
Anytime, anywhere.

It's getting a little
old, Francesca.

Besides, everybody knows you've got
that heavy thing going with Andy Bascombe.

Oh. You know I never confuse
business with pure pleasure.

Well, right now I suggest you pay
a little more attention to business.

Francesca. How are you? Hi!

I got us a great table in the
Garden Room, darling. Good.

I'm truly sorry to deprive us of
your scintillating company, Jamie.

You surprised the hell
out of me, Henderson.

Taking the top two women players
away from Andy Bascombe's agency

a week before the Open?

I don't know if it's guts or pure insanity,
but you ought to rethink it carefully.

What's to rethink, John?

Bascombe's contracts with Louise
and Francesca expire on Friday.

What do you know about
negotiating endorsement deals?

Andy's forgotten more
than you'll ever know.

In all candor, John,

aren't you carrying friendship just
a little too far for your own good?

Now your company needs the Women's Open
Champion for that Plaza racket account.

The law keeps you from getting
your hands on your daughter's money.

Louise loses, you're actually
ahead with Francesca.

I think it stinks.

Plaza Sports passes.

Sorry, John, but I don't think
you're in a position to do that.

Someone I know who can read a
balance sheet took a peek at yours.

You have no right
to this information.

Some of those deposits
are very questionable, John.

Among others, one concerning
a certain Seattle quarterback

with a million-dollar deal to
endorse Plaza football helmets?

Those deposits look an
awful lot like kickbacks, John.

I'll, um... I'll have
to get back to you.

By 5:00 tomorrow? The
Plaza racket account.

Oh, and be prepared to get a
little beat up on the deal, John.

Three!

Focus, Louise! Two!

Get it together,
Louise! Come on!

Five!

Hey, what's happening? What's going
on here? Where's your head today, girl?

I'm sorry. I'm just not with it.

All right. We'll knock off then.

See what happens when you
hang out all hours with the guys?

With Jamie Carlson?

Dad, that's not it.

We double her court
practice until the Open.

Lane, I don't think that's the greatest
idea in the world. Louise needs...

I think I know what she needs.

Whatever you're doing with her
game certainly isn't working, and...

Dad, please. Let's not
go through this again.

Lane, you're undermining
everything we're trying to accomplish.

It's no wonder she's in therapy.

She hasn't lost it, she
just needs focus, that's all.

What's this about therapy?

Louise is this close to the most
important tournament of her career

and her game's
suddenly gone south.

I think it's time you
and I called it quits.

Dad, what are you
saying? I mean, you can't!

Not now, not when
everything's on the line.

This is for you, hon.

Look, I don't care about me,
but you can't do this to Louise,

not a week before the most
important tournament of her life.

I believe I just
fired you, Maitlin.

Hello. Jessica.

I'm sorry we didn't get to
talk more this afternoon.

Oh, so am I, Louise.

You don't sound 100%.
Is anything wrong?

Frankly, yes.

Everything seems to
be falling apart right now.

Excuse me, sir.

Seeing you brought back some good
memories. Cabot Cove and Dr. Hazlitt.

I need to talk to a friend.

I've got this really crazy circus
going on in my head right now, Jess...

Jessica, is that you?

Lane? Lane, what
happened to Louise?

Oh, she had something
she wanted to do.

She's a little uptight about the
Open, but that's understandable.

Wanted me to say hello.
She'll get back to you.

Brings back old times.
Seeing Jessica again.

I'm sorry about this afternoon.

That was the first I heard
about you seeing a shrink.

Now, what's that all about?

Doc's taking me back.

Trying to help me remember.

You know.

I guess.

I'm not sure it wouldn't be better
for both of us to bury all that.

God knows I try.

But if it helps you,
honey. I'm all for it.

Dad, firing Wendy isn't going
to help me or my tennis any.

I don't think you
had a right to do that.

Look, we have come this far...

Oh, please, listen
to me for once!

I want Wendy to be with me.

I'm not playing without her!

Is that your shrink
talking, or Jamie Carlson?

Jamie has nothing
to do with this.

We're on the court
tomorrow morning, 10:00!

Dr. Trebaro is not in
his office at this time.

His hours are 9:00
to 5:00. If you...

So, you met with
Bascombe? Did you tell him?

No.

Wait. Don't be
angry with me, lover.

I told you what
to say, Francesca.

Lane, the poor guy
thinks he's in love with me.

He's been good to me and...

So he'll have a stroke
or a heart attack.

Look, I talked to McCarver.

Win the Open, there's two
million for you on that racket deal,

and I don't want Bascombe
claiming any part of it.

If I win the Open.

There shouldn't be any trouble.

Wendy Maitlin's
out of the picture.

Yes? Can I help you?

Hello?

I'm sorry to stop by so early,

but I tried to
phone last night...

The doctor's records indicate a
supply of anti-depressants in the office.

The cabinet has been
forced open and cleaned out.

Preliminary indications suggest a
robbery-homicide with a drug motive.

Dr. Trebaro's patient says
she entered at approximately...

Miss Henderson, what time would
you say you found Dr. Trebaro's body?

A little after 7:00.

You were close?
You and Dr. Trebaro?

He was more than a father. I don't
know how I'll manage without him.

Hey, kiddo, you look
really washed out.

You'll have to sign a statement
at some point. I'll be in touch.

Right.

Hi, kids. WAITRESS:
Hors d'oeuvres?

No. No, thanks. Hey,
how are you doing?

Oh, hey, Bart.

Yeah?

Listen, off the record, Privett's
coming out with a new shoe this fall.

Uh-huh. They're
calling it the Air Ride.

Uh-huh. Now, something tells me

that your new MVP trophy is gonna help
clinch us a deal, you know what I mean?

Excuse me, guys.
Can we talk, Andy?

What'd you do, swallow a
bad oyster or something?

Yeah. Later, Bart.

Mrs. Fletcher. Hello.

Jessica, if you
want one of those,

you have to earn
it, like the man says.

Or be 6'6", I should imagine!

I didn't think this kind of bash
was exactly your cup of tea.

Well, you're quite right, but someone
told me that Louise would be here.

I haven't seen her around.

Last night she sounded very
troubled about something.

And she's not
answering her phone.

Oh, I wouldn't worry
about it too much.

The kid has a
reputation for moodiness.

Check it out, Jess, mucho,
mucho bucks milling around,

talking sprained ligaments
and busted knees.

A field day for a bright,
up-and-coming young female lawyer.

Damn right. And I think I see
a couple of live prospects now.

Will you excuse me?

Oh, of course.

Mrs. Fletcher, for you.

Oh, thank you. This
is Jessica Fletcher.

Jessica, it's Louise.

Louise? I've been
trying to reach you.

Can you meet with me?

Well, yes, of course. I'll
meet you in a half hour.

At your place? Right.

What the hell are
you telling me, John?

Look, you never did like
Francesca to begin with.

Hey, don't land on me!

Look, you've gotta take a
hard look at both situations.

Henderson, and her.

I don't want to
see you get hurt.

I just can't believe this.

Look, Francesca and I,
we're seriously involved.

I mean, it's not like
her to do something...

Andy, you've got 25 years
on the girl. Talk to her.

Believe me, I plan to. Just where
do you and Plaza stand in this?

I mean, the racket endorsement
will mean half my business next year.

I'm stuck. Plaza's had the top
woman in tennis 12 years running.

I lose that, there goes my job.

And that'll be all my
business next year.

Great party, Andy.

Portia.

You look like you
lost a client, maybe?

In which case you'll
need a good lawyer.

Not now, huh, Portia?

Louise?

You got tennis balls
between your ears, Jamie?

I thought I made it
clear. Louise is off limits.

Mr. Henderson... Okay.

But the doctor that
Louise was seeing is dead.

She called me, she sounded like
she was ready to do something stupid.

Nobody's seen her... Hey.

My daughter is my concern.
She's gonna be okay.

I don't seem to be able to
get through to you, Jamie.

I mean, you wouldn't feel 100%

if the press started asking you
questions about that drug charge

you bribed your way
out of in Rome last year.

What do you want, man?

A friend faxed me a
charge sheet this morning,

and there you were, Jamie, your
signature and your mug shot big as life.

Now, it's not what I would
do with something like that,

but if it fell into
the wrong hands,

the Davis Cup people'd
be real interested,

to say nothing of the
Professional Tennis Association.

You want to do tennis
a real service, Jamie?

Stay out of my daughter's life.

I freaked out, seeing
Doc lying there.

This policewoman,
Lieutenant Karr,

she had this attitude like she was
trying to get in my head or something.

Estelle Karr. Yes, I've heard
that she's very competent.

I, um... I took a long walk

and it finally dawned on me
what Doc was forever saying.

My life has always been in somebody
else's hands, and I had to get it back,

one way or the other.

It frightened me, but at the same
time it made me somehow stronger.

What do you suppose your
father is going to think about that?

Dad? He's gonna have to lump it.

For starters, I just
re-hired Wendy.

And Wendy has
had her arm twisted

and agrees herewith to let Louise
play in Ted's charity tournament.

You're sure? I mean,
it's no big deal if you don't.

No, no, no, I want to.

Tennis is the one thing in
my life that is totally mine.

Nobody can take that from
me. Nobody can do it for me.

I'm readier now
than I've ever been.

So how about it?
I got us a court.

Go on. I'll be right along.

Jamie said he'd hit
some balls with me.

Uh... I see a look, Jessica.
Something's bothering you.

I can't quite put
my finger on it,

but, you know, the girl
that walked out that door

doesn't sound like
Louise anymore.

I mean, she should
be devastated.

She's so cool, almost cold.

Look, I'm telling you.

I will find a way to forget about what's
gone on between you and Henderson.

It's over and done with.

Andy. Please get it
through your head.

You and I have had
some good times...

"Good times"? My God, Francesca,
I mean, we have talked about

having a real life
together, and children.

That place we looked at in Sun
Valley, I mean, what was that all about?

Look, don't do this to
me, Francesca, I beg you.

What's Henderson going to
give you that I haven't, huh?

He's all but signed a
deal with John McCarver.

I'll have the Plaza Sports
racket endorsement.

John will give that to us.

Lane's deal is for
twice the money.

In two years I'll be
finished on the tour.

I have a future to worry about.

I won't give you up to that...

Henderson? Hi,
Andy Bascombe here.

I don't take prisoners.

Yeah. Sure, you don't
take prisoners, okay.

Look, as far as
Francesca's concerned,

that's water under
the bridge, hmm?

That's an old man's fantasy.

Look, Lane, there's a situation that I
think I can put together for us and...

I'm not interested.

No, no! No. No. Well,
listen, listen, listen, it's...

No, it's worth three times more.

40-15. Match point,
Miss Henderson.

Yes!

Game, set and match to
Louise Henderson, 6-3, 6-2.

Good game.

Oh! Great game!

Yes!

Great game, baby!

You okay? Never better.

Now you go win yours.

Jessica, it's Louise.

I wish I could see you right
now, but you're not there, right?

Jessica?

Please answer.

Will that be all, sir? Yes.

Thank you very much.

You're welcome, sir.

Excuse me.

Ah! Come on in.
Join me in a drink.

How about a scotch? Neat.

Absolutely.

Excuse me.

Yeah. Bascombe here.

Oh, right, right.
Hold on, please.

Look, it's Paris, it's
kind of important,

so I'll just take it in
the other room, okay?

Won't be a moment. Thanks.

Wendy? Wait!

He's dead.

Yes. I got it.

You said you heard the gunshot

and saw the body when
you came out of the bedroom.

Yeah.

All right. You were in the
bedroom how long, Mr. Bascombe?

Uh, I don't know.

It couldn't have been more
than a couple of minutes.

I was on a call from
Paris. I finished that,

came in and I found him dead.

I see.

This suite is a crime scene, it'll
be off limits for at least 24 hours.

Yeah, big deal. They'll find
another arrangement for me.

Well, is that it?

That's it for now.

Uptight female cops
with something to prove.

I'll have your deposition ready sometime
after noon tomorrow, Mrs. Fletcher.

By then I'll probably
have more questions.

There goes my trip to London.

I was supposed to leave
today, but I'll stay available.

Miss Henderson. You up to
answering a few questions?

I think I'd give her
some time, Lieutenant.

She's not in any shape to
answer questions just now.

Sorry, but I do have to ask.

Now, there's no love lost between
you and your father, is that correct?

Where were you when he was shot?

She was with me.

I'm asking Miss Henderson.

Jamie and I were together.

Must've been a rough
couple of days for you, Louise.

We all understand
that. You may go.

Louise, you called
and left a message.

Oh, it was nothing.
I just wanted to talk.

Do me a favor, Jessica?
I'll stay with Louise.

Call Portia and tell her the kid's
gonna have to be a scratch tomorrow.

Don't! I'm playing tomorrow.
It's what I do, remember?

You know her from before?

For some years.

Has she always been a cold fish?

I mean, bang, the
Doc was like a father,

and the other, the real
thing gone, just like that.

You're looking for tears,
sorrow, devastation.

So am I, Lieutenant.

Aside from your observations

that the perpetrator was blond and
seemed to have a noticeable limp,

you said the light was poor, but did you
identify the weapon he or she was carrying?

Well, it appeared
to be nickel-plated.

From the size, I'd say it was
either a .22 or a .38 revolver.

You were on the
Trebaro case, Lieutenant.

You must've
considered a connection.

Except Trebaro's
bullet was .44 caliber.

And there's no
commonality of motive.

To all appearances, Trebaro's
killer was after the Doctor's drugs.

I'm still looking into
the possibilities, though.

Okay, let's go!

Great!

Follow through.
Be careful. Stay low.

Good.

Ah, watch the topspin.
You lost it on that one.

Good!

Here you are. Thanks.

Good. And let's do the backhand.

Well, can she get it
together for the Open?

She's sure been taking
the cover off those balls.

I just got a call from that
bright-eyed, bushy-tailed

female lawyer, Portia Dekker.

As of last night, she's speaking
for Francesca. Guess what?

What?

Wants to renew her
agency contract with me.

Well, the king is
dead, long live the king.

Hey!

So, what about the lady?

Mmm. Francesca
called, matter of fact.

She's had second thoughts
and she wants to get together.

Yeah. Just remember,
they're second thoughts.

Hmm?

It's incredible what something
like Henderson's murder

can do to clear up the
decks of trouble, huh?

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa.

What? Are you saying that
you think that I killed him?

Hey, tell me you
did. I'll keep a secret.

Well, as a matter of fact,
on the phone last night,

Henderson said he
had the goods on you.

Which makes me think

that you had as good a
reason to pull the trigger as I did.

All right. Turn it off! Hey, that's enough,
Louise. Save some for Francesca!

I can't wait! Thanks
for the workout, kiddo!

Hey, my friend
here did all the work.

Hey, you're still losing
some of your topspin, though.

Get under it. Get it out in
front of you. Hit through the ball!

I gotcha.

Good job!

So which one of the girls are
you putting your money on?

Why, does it matter?

Either way, your company's
gonna have the racket endorsement

from the top woman in tennis.

And either way, you're
gonna agent the deal.

Sounds good to me.

Definitely.

Did you see that? It's great.

Jamie, take this. You okay?

Ms. Maitlin.

Yes?

I'd appreciate it if you'd
accompany me to the precinct.

Why, Lieutenant? You
already have my statement.

Louise has a charity
final in three hours.

I'll try and get back.

Wendy, you didn't have
anything to do with...

Of course not!

Win or lose, you do
what you know how to do.

Jamie, take care of her for me.

I can't imagine on what grounds
you're holding Wendy Maitlin.

She's not held. She's
answering questions voluntarily.

But from what I've heard,
there were many others

who had strong cases
against Lane Henderson.

Oh, yeah, sure there were. Andrew
Bascombe, John McCarver, Jamie Carlson.

All had a motive, all
have corroborated alibis.

Maitlin has none.

Yes, but Bascombe was
virtually alone with the victim.

We checked phone company records
and the party he was talking to in Paris.

Bascombe never left the
phone for the duration of the call,

and was still on when the guy in
Paris swears he heard the shot.

Oh, by the way, we
found the murder weapon,

dumped in a mail chute.

A nickel-plated .38,
just like you said.

Mrs. Fletcher,
thanks for the coffee.

And bon voyage and all that.

Oh, not at all. Thanks
for saving me a trip.

I called Dr. Trebaro's office.

Now, the tape of your last
session was missing, Louise.

Now, I am certain that I spotted
it in your father's briefcase

when we met in
the Starlight Room.

Well, that's crazy.
You're saying Dad took it?

Why would he do that?

Well, I had the same question.

I mean, whatever was on it was
obviously very important to him.

Gosh. I don't think I
can help you. I mean...

So much has happened since then,

I just can't remember
much of anything.

I'm sorry, but I don't
buy that, Louise.

You left a very urgent message
on my machine earlier today.

Now, what was that all about?

You said you wanted
to help Wendy.

Jamie!

Hold it. Your hunch was
right about Miss Maitlin.

He has the hair you saw. Long
and blond enough to qualify,

the clothes pretty much unisex.

And like you said, anybody
can phony up a limp.

What do you have
on Jamie, Lieutenant?

One of his fingerprints on an
unfired round in the .38 we found,

an ID from the street
dealer he bought it off,

a strong motive and no alibi.

But Jamie was with me.

Jamie admits he
lied, Miss Henderson,

and I'd guess you
were covering for him.

Jamie, tell them they're wrong!

Look, they're right
about a few things, okay,

not about what counts.

I'll be back in a flash.

But I don't want you...

Hey, hey, hey, hey, look, they
gotta prove something first, right?

Just stay cool.
Everything's gonna be fine.

Let's go.

He didn't do it, Jessica.

I'm sure he didn't. But we haven't
finished with each other, either.

I know I should've told
you before this, Jessica.

Maybe you would've been
able to help me through it.

And you knew about Mom's murder,

why they put me with
Grandma in Cabot Cove.

Yes, I remember, Louise.

Last year I started having
the most awful nightmares.

It turned out I had
buried Mom's death

in the darkest
corner of my mind.

Doc said that if I faced up to the
memory, the nightmares would stop.

I was willing to try anything.

Doc took me back to the
night of my mom's murder.

But I could never
finish the dream.

Then the night before last, I
had the worst nightmare ever,

and I remembered

the killer finally
turned and faced me.

It was Dad. He
was smiling at me.

And telling me not
to be frightened.

Bundling me up, taking me
to bed, kissing me goodnight.

My father!

To think that I blanked
it out all this time.

It's not uncommon, Louise.

I mean, a severe emotional
trauma can and does cause amnesia.

You forgot so you wouldn't
have to face the memory.

Your forthrightness is a
credit to you, Miss Henderson.

So that you know, last
night our people went through

your father's belongings and
found a .44 revolver, recently fired.

Forensics says it's the same
weapon that killed Dr. Trebaro.

And as his only witness
to your mother's murder...

I might've been next.
I thought about that.

Can I see Jamie now?

Not now, tomorrow.
And that's a promise.

I've gotta be on my way, but I thought
you might appreciate this little item.

It wasn't a bullet that
killed Lane Henderson.

What are you saying, Lieutenant?

Autopsy showed the slug missed
all major organs and arteries,

and Henderson would've lived.

Assuming it was Jamie Carlson,
he must've realized the guy was alive

but couldn't afford the
noise of another shot.

He finished him off
with a blow to the head.

A heavy, blunt weapon of
some kind killed Henderson,

not the bullet.

Well, that certainly
changes things.

You must have combed the
hotel for this heavy, blunt object?

Top to bottom. We'll find
it, same as we did the gun.

And it doesn't change
anything, as far as I can see.

You a bowler, Mrs. Fletcher?

No. No, no, no, that's
my mystery writer's award.

Though I must say it
does look rather like...

Mrs. Fletcher? Bye-bye.

Uh, Lieutenant?

Has Mr. Bascombe's suite
been released back to him yet?

No. Around 5:30 today.

Louise. I think I know why
and how your father was killed.

Now, you and I both
know that it wasn't Jamie.

So, now, we have to
level with each other.

It's the only chance we have to
help Jamie and you get out of this jam.

Now, you've told me half the
truth. Louise, now I want it all.

What a hoot catching
all you guys together.

Sorry I missed the celebration,
Jess. I was with our accountant.

Well, it's a record, folks!

The charity has
cleared $155,000.

Portia, you earned it all, and
Ted is gonna be so pleased.

Thanks.

Ladies. Portia said
you'd all be here.

Oh, Louise.

I... I'd like to convey
my condolences to you.

Thank you, Andy.

Um...

Jessica was just saying she can
prove Jamie murdered my father.

What's surprising about that?
Police have him dead to rights.

All but for one
clue in your suite,

which apparently
they overlooked.

What clue? Oh, for
heaven's sakes, Jessica.

Are we playing games, Jessica?

In a fashion. Will
you indulge me?

Well, if it'll cinch the case
against Carlson, Andy.

Well, why the hell not? The
police should be out of there by now.

Let's go up to my
place for a drink, then.

Oh. Captain, charge
this to my room.

Yes, sir.

It could've been almost anybody
that I saw in that dark corridor,

wearing sportswear and
colors common to many others

in the hotel.

But clearly, this person
was blond and had a limp.

What didn't occur to me until much
later was that it was the right leg,

which should have ruled
out Wendy immediately.

Louise, will you tell us how
you injured your right ankle?

The night that your father was
killed, I noticed you were limping.

She nicked it with her
racket during the match.

Louise will tell you
that that isn't true.

She never limped,
during or after the match.

But she did do something odd,

which at the time I put
down to absentmindedness.

She took Jamie's
carry-all with her.

What was in that bag, Louise?

My God, Jessica, what
are you trying to do?

It was the gun that Jamie
bought and loaded for you.

The weapon to
kill your father with.

For his cruelties, for
those dreadful nightmares,

for the murder of your mother.

What the hell is this? Not another
word. We're out of here, girl.

No, Wendy.

Jessica had it figured
before we came here.

I told Jamie the gun
was for self-protection,

that I'd been getting
letters from some psycho.

I'd reached a point where I
believed that I would never be happy

as long as my
father was in my life.

That night, I went to his
room. He wasn't there.

Then on the way back, the
door to the suite was open.

I saw him.

For the longest moment
I thought I couldn't do it,

it was wrong.

Then all of the fear
and the craziness

from my nightmare
took over and I fired.

And running out the door, I
clobbered my ankle on the doorstop.

It hurt like the dickens.

My God, I don't believe this.

But I thought you said you could
prove Jamie committed the murder.

I did, didn't I?

A ruse, but essential if a certain
item was to be preserved as evidence.

You see, Lane Henderson
had two intended killers, not one.

He would have
survived Louise's bullet.

But in the time it took
me to reach the fire door

and return to find Mr. Bascombe
kneeling by the body,

the actual murderer struck
the blow that killed him.

I'm calling time, Mrs. Fletcher.

It's late, and I think we've all
had enough theatrics for one day.

Why not let her finish,
Mr. Bascombe? No harm in theatrics.

Besides, Mrs. Fletcher
has me hooked.

This morning the Lieutenant reminded
me of the MVP trophy that was here

during your cocktail party, but
was missing after the murder.

Where is it now?

Why, that belonged
to Bart Leroy.

I guess he must've taken
it with him or something.

Mr. Leroy says he didn't.

After the murder,
I was also struck

by the displacement
of this lamp.

As if somebody in a great
hurry had made it a hiding place.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

You have a logical explanation
for any of this, Mr. Bascombe?

I'm sure we'll find your
fingerprints all over the trophy.

Andy, for God's sakes,
tell them they're wrong!

No, I can't, John.

The man was taking
everything from me.

Francesca, my business. I
mean, he was destroying lives!

Yeah. Is there any one...

Is there any one of you who isn't
better off because Henderson is dead?

So, the judge went through
Lieutenant Karr's reports,

and he's scheduled a juvenile
hearing two months from now.

Meantime, heavy schedules
of rehabilitation sessions?

Oh, yes. I'm actually looking forward
to getting my head straightened out.

No US Open?

Well, I'll leave that to Francesca.
Maybe next year, though. Who knows?

Oh, you're finally
off to London.

Mmm-hmm.

Well, thank you, for everything.

That goes double.

It'll be next year for
you, too, Jamie, right?

Well, with probation
and everything.

But, hey, you know, look
what I'm missing this year.

I'd have had to get through
guys like Courier and Becker...

Sanchez, Chang...
Sampras, Agassi.

Seems to me you missed
out on a good thing!