Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 12, Episode 19 - Evidence of Malice - full transcript

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Sheriff.

He planted the damn thing
in my car to get even with me.

Maybe I should just roll over and
play dead after what you pulled on me.

I wouldn't be surprised if he
did tamper with the evidence.

There's something here
that just isn't tracking.

Oh, you're not talking about
proof that he killed Boggs?

Take your hands off the lady.

Looks like Leverett was
gonna blackmail Fred.

Well, you believe me, don't you?

Well, I would if I thought I
could get a straight answer.



His honesty has
never been questioned.

Well, I've even heard
yours being questioned.

I call them the way I see them.

You mean that I'm suspended?

I've got all the pieces.

I have this awful feeling
I've got the wrong corpse.

Okay. Turn around Mr. Berrigan
and go back this way.

That's fine.

Okay. Now turn around.

I'm gonna have you touch
your nose with your index finger.

Put your arms straight out to
the side. Leave 'em out there.

One at a time.

There, you satisfied?

Not especially.



Your breath smells of booze.

You ran two stop signs.
You were all over the road.

Look, I was dialing
my car phone.

And I haven't had a
drink in three hours.

I mean, this was
his idea, wasn't it?

Fred, I wouldn't
waste the energy!

Andy.

You know, you've got yourself a real
attitude problem there, Mr. Berrigan.

Oh, me? What about
your buddy here?

Sheriff.

Okay, Andy, drive him on down to
the station, and I'll sort things out here.

Wait a minute. Just consider
who it is claims he found that bottle.

Okay. That's it!
Put the cuffs on him!

Look, Sheriff, instead of writing him
up, why don't I just take him home?

That way he won't
lose his license.

Ah, you couldn't
make it stick anyway.

Broom, if you're looking for
an extension, forget about it.

That down payment is due tomorrow
at 10:00 a.m. Be there with a check or...

Oh, no! That's
enough, Fred. All right?

Now, Andy, you
really wanna do this?

Get him out of my sight.

Hello?

Hello?

Leverett?

It appears to be
as you said, Mort.

Strangulation with
some kind of cord or wire.

Leverett Boggs, of all people.

I just can't believe it.

He was coming over for dinner
and a game of chess tonight.

Oh, yeah. You have to wonder
why a thing like that would happen.

Oh, I can give you the "why." His
pockets were empty except for his keys.

A mugging in Cabot Cove?

Well, we've been getting more and
more drifters coming through here lately.

What have you got, Mrs. F?

A piece of nylon cord.

That could've been
used to choke Leverett.

Well, let's check it out.

Anyway, this is one you
don't have to worry about,

especially with all those story problems
you told us about. How's that coming?

Well, not great.

I've got all the pieces.

The crime, the
suspect, the setting.

But I have this awful feeling
I've got the wrong culprit,

maybe even the wrong corpse.

I can't remember the last
time I was stumped like this.

Try about this time a year ago.

Hey, Andy, how'd it
go? Mrs. Fletcher. Doc.

Well, you're looking at
a genuine homeowner.

Ah!

Oh, you'd never catch me buying
a used house from Fred Berrigan.

You'll have to fill in for Leverett
Boggs till we find a replacement for him.

Oh. Well, I'll do my
best, Mr. Berrigan.

And may I say how sorry
I am about Mr. Boggs.

Steve Uptown you're
needed in Receiving.

The answer's still the same.

The quality of your leather gets worse
and worse and your prices keep going up.

Mr. Berrigan, I can assure you,

we are only shipping
you our top quality stuff.

The problem here is
we... The problem is

I can't think of any more ways to say I
don't wanna do business with you anymore.

Just feel this... Honey,
Craig was offering...

Ah, Meg, what do
you want from me?

We kicked this around
like you insisted.

We made our
decision. Case closed.

Uh, Ms. Berrigan.

I'm going to be in town
for a couple more days

servicing a few other
clients in the area,

and I would be, well,
incredibly grateful

if, well, you know, you could...

I'll try, Craig,

but I'm not about
to countermand him.

Oh, of course! I understand.

But, you know, as I said,

I'm willing to do anything here.

I mean, including
major price concessions

and like I said, I intend to personally
jump all over our quality control people.

Fred hasn't been
quite himself lately.

Of course not. All this stuff
with Mr. Boggs going on.

It must, you know, be a
terrible strain on everyone.

You know? Thank you.

I had no idea. They actually had
to shut down the assembly line?

Well, that's what happens when we
run short of one of the components.

In this case, it's the
adhesives for the soles.

It's very, very costly.

Oh, Mr. Parkins I feel terrible.

Wendy, it's George.

And this is strictly between us.

All part of the learning
curve, you know.

Wendy? What is it?

Maybe I shouldn't say.

Are you telling me this
was somebody else's goof?

My, oh my, doesn't
she look smashing?

Wendy, listen I don't have to be back
in Boston now for a couple of days,

so how about some dinner
tonight? Maybe? The Hill House?

Oh, sure. That'd
be great, Craig.

Great. Hello, George.

Craig.

So, I'll pick you up at 7:30.

Terrific.

Wendy, I understand that you
want to protect a fellow worker,

but there is a
bigger issue here.

This could hurt the company.

Well, I just hate to
get anyone in trouble.

Wendy, I'll worry about
that. Now what happened?

Well, I initialed the requisition
for the adhesive two days ago.

Oh, this is a copy that I made.

And like I was supposed
to do, I passed it along to...

Isaac? Yeah.

You know, this isn't the first time
that he's goofed in the past few months.

Wendy, trust me,
you did the right thing.

Dean, you gotta be kidding me.

You mean it's worse than the flooded
kitchen and basement I just walked in on?

Afraid so. Besides the rusted pipes,
some of the beams and joists are rotted

and there's extensive
termite damage.

Fred's tenants are lucky the
place didn't come down on 'em.

Oh, boy. I knew the place
was a fixer-upper, but...

But I had it inspected and
none of this showed up.

I mean, how could he
miss something like that?

Fairly easy, actually. The last
remodel was largely cosmetic.

Oh, this is just terrific!

Your old nemesis
doing it to you again?

Well, we don't know that.

Well, I'll tell you though.

If Fred was aware of this
stuff and failed to disclose it,

he's liable for the repairs. And
we're talking fairly serious money.

How serious?

Oh, I don't know, Seth. Between my
plot problems and Leverett Boggs' murder,

I can't seem to
get it together here.

So I've noticed.
You're out of cream!

Well, use milk.
It's better for you.

Huh.

You and Hannah Parkins.

What about Hannah?

Oh, haven't you heard?

I've been savoring her chicken
pot pie for what, 20 years.

All of a sudden it has gone
fat and cholesterol free.

And flavor-free into the
bargain. Her entire menu!

Well, it sounds very healthy.

I mean, it'll probably
help people to live longer.

Not if they die of
boredom from her food.

What's this note with
Leverett Boggs' name on it?

Oh, I'd forgotten
all about that.

Gosh! He'd asked me
for the name and number

of my New York
accountant and my attorney.

I'd planned to give
it to him this evening.

That's strange.

Leverett always hated lawyers,

bean counters,
other than himself,

and towns of more than 5,000
population, not necessarily in that order.

Jess, what is it?

You just said it. I don't know
why it had never occurred to me.

But why did he ask for them?

If you have to know, I got it out
of the employee suggestion box.

It was an anonymous message.

And you believe it? I've
checked and double-checked.

Ms. Arnold initialed
the adhesive requisition

and forwarded it
to your attention.

This... It's like I'm
being gaslighted.

Look, Fred, I swear that requisition
never came across my desk.

This isn't the first time.

Not the... Says who?

You mean, I don't get
to face my accusers?

It really saddens me, Isaac.

If you'd owned up to it, I would've
be willing to give you another shot.

But the one thing I cannot
countenance is lying.

You're saying I'm...

Terminated.
Effective immediately.

Fred, please. 30 years
I've been with the company.

Your father never would've...

I want you to clean
out your desk by 5:00.

I hope you don't
mind, Mr. Berrigan,

but I authorized
these purchases.

The special price was
about to expire and...

Since you and Mrs. Berrigan were out
and George was nowhere to be found...

Well, I didn't even know
about the discount offer.

That's good work, Ms. Arnold.
You saved us a lot of money.

Thank you. It comes
to about $17,000.

Can you tell me why
George wasn't available?

No. But I'm sure it had to
do with company business.

So, may I ask you a question?

So do you ever go for drinks after work
with, you know, any of your employees?

I don't think that'd be
a good idea right now.

Oh. I see.

What was that about?

Nothing.

"C"? Well, it could've
been carrots, I suppose.

Or cooking pot, or maybe that
cerise sweater that I ordered.

It'd help if you could
be a little more specific.

$32 may not seem like a lot, but
these little deductions really add up.

Patty, one of these days, I
promise I'll start acting my age,

but, meantime, that
is what I pay you for.

Right now I feel like that's
why I'm engaged to her.

Honey, you weren't
being childish.

And you weren't foolish to assume
that Fred would be honorable.

Trusting people is certainly
better than being a cynic.

Yeah, but Fred
Berrigan is Fred Berrigan.

And I should know that by now.

A great way to start a marriage,

with thousands of dollars in house
repairs just to make the place livable.

Andy, I feel terrible.

Look, Patty,

I liked that house
as much as you did.

Okay, almost as much.

The point is, you
didn't drag me into this.

Look, we can fix it up later.

And the extra bedroom,

we can make it into a nursery with a
few dollars’ worth of paint and wallpaper.

I've got a call in to Fred.

Maybe he'll do
the honorable thing

and agree to pay
for at least part of it.

And I'm an astronaut.

Look, I gotta get to work.

I'll see you tonight.

Some things never change.

I remember when Andy and
Fred were still in high school.

They had one of their fights
right over there by that window.

I practically had to
brain them with a skillet.

Hey, Patty. Hey, Mom.

Ms. Arnold. George, what
is going on over there?

First poor Mr. Boggs and then did I
hear right about poor Isaac Meecham?

Yep. I'll have a tuna salad
on whole wheat, please.

Oh, it's getting
crazy, Mrs. Parkins.

Mrs. Berrigan just read George
the riot act for no good reason.

Some purchase orders
I was supposed to sign.

Only I "wasn't available."

She wouldn't believe me when I told
her I was right there the whole time.

You know, I know I haven't been

at Down East Footwear long
enough to make judgments,

but certain people can
sure be unreasonable.

Mort, I don't have all day.

Fred, will you relax? I told you
Andy's bringing your car around.

Excuse me, Sheriff. You
might wanna check this out.

It looks an awful lot like the stuff that
was used to strangle Leverett Boggs.

It sure does.
Where'd you get it?

Out of Fred's car. I remembered
seeing it there last night.

Wait a minute. I've never
seen that before in my life!

And besides, that's an
invasion of my privacy!

It sure looks like a
match to me, Sheriff.

This piece that was
used to kill Leverett Boggs

sure looks like it
was cut from this coil.

Oh. Now I get it. Don't you
see what he's doing, Mort?

This is because he can't
stick me for those repairs.

That's enough, Berrigan. What?

He planted the damn thing
in my car to get even with me.

Just like he did
with the bottle.

I said to knock it off, Fred!

I'm placing you under arrest on
suspicion of murdering Leverett Boggs.

Andy, lock him up.

I appreciate what you're
saying, Mrs. Berrigan,

but your husband can't account for his
whereabouts the night of Leverett's murder,

and I have no
choice but to hold him.

And if you don't understand
that, I don't know what...

Come on, Sheriff. Mort.

Hello, Meg. Mort, those
grooves on Fred's hands

could be the result of his pulling on
that nylon cord around Leverett's throat.

Oh, for pity...

Didn't he explain that those are rope
burns from the rigging on our sailboat?

He did, ma'am.

And have you found
anything like a reason

why my husband would
want to harm Leverett Boggs?

I may have found a motive.

This letter. I took another look
around Leverett's apartment.

Found it stuffed
behind some books.

It seems to be a copy.

Dated three days ago from
Leverett Boggs to Fred Berrigan,

Down East Footwear
Company, et cetera, et cetera...

"Dear Fred, I think you should know that
I've become aware of certain indiscretions

"that I don't think you'd
want Meg to find out about."

Says he wants to
meet him Tuesday night.

Well, that would be last night.

Looks like Leverett was
gonna blackmail Fred.

Okay. This is
absolutely outrageous!

"Indiscretions"? Everybody in
town knows Fred is a straight arrow.

Including the source of all this so
called evidence against my husband!

The one man in Cabot Cove who's hated
Fred for as long as anyone can remember.

Mrs. Berrigan, I really think you should
cool down before you say another word.

Believe me, Sheriff, you
haven't heard the half of it!

That's weird.

What's weird?

Oh! Hi! You're early.

This Norcom, it's listed on the
printout of company computer files,

but isn't listed on my computer.

Or Mr. Boggs'.

Unless... Unless what?

Oh, so, I heard about your
problem with Mr. Berrigan.

Yeah.

I bet that you could
use some leverage.

Leverage?

Yeah. You know.

Something to convince him
to change his mind about you.

You know, like something that Mr. Berrigan
might not want anyone to know about.

Oh, you're not talking about
proof that he killed Boggs?

No! No! Nothing like that.

Besides, that Sheriff's deputy is just
trying to set him up, don't you think?

Mmm-hmm.

Look, if you think I'm being
out of line or something...

No. No, I don't.

Are we talking about
something particular here?

Uh, no.

Not at the moment, but...

Well, Craig, you
know, the thing is...

Yeah?

It could cost me my job, and...

Don't worry about it. Look,
suppose I could come up with enough

to make the risk worth
your while. Let's say $1,000?

For starters?

When do you figure you could
actually have something for me?

Hey, that's not
even the worst of it.

I heard from the lawyer.

He nixed the idea of a lawsuit.

He said that it'd be next to impossible
to prove that Fred actually knew

about the conditions
of the house.

I guess.

Even if there was a paper trail,
Fred could insist he'd never seen it.

Oh, Andy.

Look, more to the point, the
things people have been saying I...

Well, I just hope you
don't think that I've

let my feelings about
Fred get in the way of...

Oh, sweetheart, no!

You're sure? Not even a little?

Not ever. Not even for a second.

I needed that.

Story problem still
hanging you up?

Mmm-hmm.

I just can't seem
to focus on it.

The unlikely image of
Leverett Boggs as a blackmailer

keeps getting in the way.

Well, that means the
letter Andy found is a fake.

But if that's the case, then it
doesn't make an awful lot of sense

for Fred to be planting a letter
that indicates he has a motive.

Well, all right. Suppose
Fred didn't murder Leverett.

Ah, well, then the
letter and the nylon

cord indicate someone's
trying to frame him.

Seth, it was not Andy Broom.

Did I mention his name?

Well, I'm surprised that you
even consider that possibility.

Or it could be you're
trying to convince yourself?

Hey, Mrs. F. Doc, I've
been looking all over for you.

Thought you might like to know that
your professional opinion's been refuted.

Oh?

Yeah. So far today two doctors
have shown up at the Sheriff's station.

One from New York,
one from Boston.

They both examined
Fred Berrigan's hands.

They're both willing to testify
that the rope burns on Fred's hand

could not have been caused by the
nylon cord that Andy found in his car.

Uh, Mrs. Berrigan?
Yes, what is it?

Uh, Mrs. Berrigan, I just...

Forgive me. I didn't
mean to snap at you.

No. No. I can imagine
how upset you must be.

I mean, I just wanted
you to know that I...

Well, we... All of us are
pulling for Mr. Berrigan.

Thank you, Wendy.

I mean, I can't believe that
he would do such a thing.

And from what I've been
hearing about this Deputy Broom...

Well, I wouldn't be surprised if
he did tamper with the evidence.

What? Mrs. Berrigan,
is something wrong?

Not really.

Wendy, are you okay?

Oh, yeah. That was
sweet of you to ask.

George, have you heard of a
computer file called Norcom?

Norcom. No, why?

Wendy Arnold, line two.

Miss Arnold speaking.

Hello, sweetheart. You
were gonna call me?

So, what is happening
with this Norcom. doc file?

Look, I'm working on it.
There hasn't been the time.

Yeah. Well, I need to know if this
is something that I can use and fast.

Yeah. Well, you made
that quite clear. Thank you.

Andy. Isaac.

Sorry to hear you got laid off.

Yeah. Thanks. Got a couple
of leads down in Portland.

I guess we're both
victims of Fred Berrigan.

But at least you did
something about it.

Isaac, if you mean what
I think you do... Andy!

Hey, no offense. Honest.

Fact is, I'm one of the few
people in town that's on your side.

No, Mrs. Wycoff, I did not
personally see Deputy Broom

discover the cord in Fred's car.

But if that's where
he said he found it...

Uh-huh. Yes. Well, you have
a nice day, too, Mrs. Wycoff.

What is going on here, Mrs. F?

That's maybe the
20th call today.

Now in all of the years
that Andy's been a deputy,

his honesty has never
been questioned. Not once.

Well, I've even heard yours being
questioned for having defended him.

Well, that figures. Any luck?

Well, there certainly isn't
anything obvious about Leverett

or his affairs that would give
anyone reason to want to kill him.

Yeah. No relatives. He leaves
all of his assets to the university.

Some stocks,
bonds, a little cash.

Mrs. Fletcher. Sheriff.

Andy, there's a whole new stack
of messages on my desk for you.

If they're like the other
ones, I don't wanna see 'em.

Norcom. Does that
mean anything to you?

Sounds like one of those
stock market names to me.

In which case, I'm definitely
not the one to talk to about it.

Apparently, Leverett had
some questions about it.

I've got to run. I'll
talk to you later.

This is cheddar.
I told you Swiss.

Swiss is what I ordered.

Look, Fred, I want you to know I
didn't plant that cord or that letter.

So if you'd... Save
it for your priest.

Fine. Suit yourself.

Hey, hey!

We both know what
this is really about.

Ever since grade school, you've
held it against me for being wealthy,

better looking and
a better athlete.

Fred, that's just not true.

Maybe it's time you
made your peace with it.

Yeah?

Like maybe I should just
roll over and play dead

after what you pulled
on me with the house?

Fred, I just got a call I
think you're gonna like.

Even as we speak, your attorney's
over at the courthouse posting your bail.

You'll be out of here
within the hour. Yeah!

Andy, we have to talk.

Actually, I got two phone calls.

The other was from
the county prosecutor.

They're thinking about dropping
the case against Berrigan.

You're kidding. Now look,

I don't want you to
take this the wrong way.

They feel because of
your relationship with Fred,

that the evidence
might be tainted.

The Berrigans
might sue the county.

Sheriff, are you saying that...

Now look, I want you to
know I believe in you 100%.

I just feel for the good of everybody,
maybe you should take a few days off.

You mean that I'm suspended?

Just go home, okay?

Well, now come
on, Seth. Admit it.

I mean, this soup and this low calorie
chicken pot pie is pretty darn good!

Oh, forget it, Jessica.
He's hopeless.

On the other hand, I
figure we can all use it.

That answers my question which
is, whose health are we talking about,

the purveyor's or the patron's?

You see, George?
She doesn't like me.

Wendy, it's just mother biz.

I mean, there's no woman in the world
that's good enough for her son, that's all.

Hey! You were gonna call, yeah?

Craig, this isn't the time or
the place. I'm working on it.

I think you said
that this afternoon.

I need answers. Now.

Look, she doesn't
wanna talk to you, Haber!

Oh. Hello, George.

I'll call you later.

Well, that was very
sweet of you, George.

Yeah. I made the mistake of
promising to contact some people for him.

Thank you.

Mmm.

Well, at least she hasn't
fiddled with the apple pie.

No? Take a look at the menu.

Reduced fat, reduced calories.

Hmm. Well, in that case,

Hannah, I wonder if possibly
I could get another slab?

Hi, Dr. Hazlitt. Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, hello, George. Ms. Arnold.

Oh, by the way, Hannah was telling me
that you're from Exeter, New Hampshire.

Mmm-hmm.

And you probably know my
cousin, Teddy. Teddy Lawrence?

Oh, not really. I think I met
him once at some function.

Oh.

Well, good evening, then.

Evening.

Oh! Thank you, Hannah.

All right, Jessica, what
does that look mean?

My cousin Teddy in Exeter.

Oh! You mean the
fellow she said she met?

Teddy is a she.

Metzger. Yeah. Sheriff, it's me.

Yeah, Andy.

I want to report a murder.

I know how it looks, Sheriff,

but I just thought maybe I
could find some more evidence

that Fred killed Mr. Boggs.

So I tailed him to
the Country Club.

He played a round of golf
and then he had a drink

with that shoe leather
salesman, then drove back here.

I was around the corner
maybe 20 feet behind him.

I heard Fred shout,

then a dull sound
when he was hit and...

When I got there he was...

And you didn't see
or hear anyone else?

No. Nothing.

Anything missing, Mrs. Berrigan?

There doesn't appear to be, no.

Meg, I feel horrible about this.

If I'd have been just a little closer
behind him, I'd have seen his assailant.

Maybe been able
to save Fred's life.

I think it's better that I
don't say anything right now.

Caleb, do you wanna take
Mrs. Berrigan home, please?

You got it, Sheriff.

Meg, would you
like some company?

Thank you, Jessica.
I think I'll be just fine.

Oh, Mrs. Berrigan, would you mind telling
me where you were at 9:35 this evening?

I was home, on the phone,

to our distributor in Boston

from 9:15 to almost
10:00, I guess,

when your deputy showed up.

Sorry to have kept you
here so long, ma'am.

So what do you make of it, Doc?

Massive head trauma. Must have
been hit pretty hard with something heavy.

Now, look, Andy, this time I'm
not fooling. I want you to go home,

and I want you to stay there!

All right. It's all
there, $1,000.

But why are you
giving it back to me?

Come on, Craig. Fred wouldn't do
business with you when he was alive

and now he's dead?

Hey! Hey! What? What?

You know, I may
not be the most...

together guy in the
world, but that nuts I'm not.

Whatever. Anyway, I
couldn't find what you wanted.

Well, what about this Norcom?

Dead end. And with the factory shut
down for a few days, I'm out of here.

Really? Really.

Come here! What?

What? Did you
find stuff out? Craig!

Let go of me!

Take your hands off the lady.

Are you okay? Thanks, George.

Come on. Let's go.

You got that all
wrong, my friend.

I am not your friend!

And you just stay away
from her from now on, Haber!

You got the hots
for her, don't you?

Well, let me tell you
something, buddy boy,

you're in for quite
a few surprises.

What're you talking about?

For starters?

Why don't you ask her where she
was about the time your boss was killed.

Try that. What?

Good night, Georgie.

Mother, how can you say that? You
haven't even exchanged 10 words with Wendy.

It's known as
trusting this and this.

Besides, you asked.

Better return Jessica's call.

You know, I get the feeling you're
not all that sure about Wendy yourself.

Your tax returns. I
apologize for the delay.

Hey, who can blame you?

So, how did the
job interview go?

Not too bad.

Can't say I was surprised
to hear about Fred.

Or that Andy might've...

You know.

Yeah. It's a real shame.

You know, it might be nice if
you people knew when to shut up!

Wait a minute.
Wendy lied to you?

I'm afraid so.

Okay. What're you looking for?

Well, I'm not sure. References.

Where she went to school,
you know, that sort of thing.

And Norcom.

All right. I'll get into it
right away. I'll call you later.

Thanks.

Actually, I can't think of much
else to tell you about Fred.

There was just something
almost chemical between us.

You said something about
the Elm Street house situation

being out of character for him?

Yeah, in a way it was.

I mean, it was consistent with
his mean-spiritedness and all,

but the one thing I could never accuse
Fred of was dishonesty about money.

He always had a thing about
paying off his debts and stuff.

So maybe he really didn't know
about the problems with the house.

And he just assumed that I was
trying to pull something on him.

Which would make me
the one that was paranoid.

Well, anyway, I
hope that was a help.

It was, Andy. Thanks.

Truth to tell, I feel
kind of sorry for him.

How's your writer's block?

Well, I was up at least
once every hour last night,

groggily dictating thoughts
into my tape machine.

I only hope when I listen to
them they make some sense.

Oh, that Norcom.

Couldn't find it in the pharmacopoeia
or any of the medical journals.

Well, according
to George Parkins,

it's some sort of
a computer file.

But what I don't understand is, why
Wendy Arnold was inquiring about it, too.

Why don't you ask her?

Well, I would if I thought I
could get a straight answer.

Hmm.

Has it ever occurred to you that
there might be no connection at all

between this and the
murder of Leverett Boggs?

Yes, it has.

I am sorry.

No, I could not have gotten
back to you sooner, Mr. Fellman.

I was busy giving a
statement to the local sheriff.

Look, look, look.
The good news here

is that with her husband
out of the picture,

there is no more problem with
the Down East Footwear account.

Right. Yes, I am sure of that.

Goodbye.

The phone company confirms that
Meg Berrigan was talking on the phone

to Boston last night
just like she said.

Okay, Mrs. F. Now this stuff
about Wendy Arnold's personnel file.

You want to run
that by me again?

Don't do it, Jessica, unless he promises
to take that banana out of his ear.

Well, on her job application, she
claimed to have an MBA from Harvard.

But a friend of mine on the
faculty said there's no record of that,

but he did recall a Wendy Arnett
from a couple of years earlier.

And when Jessica
described Wendy Arnold,

it sounded to him
like the same girl.

This Wendy Arnett
never got her degree.

In fact, she was thrown out
for cheating in her exams.

But that was only the last of a series
of infractions like computer hacking...

Wait, wait, wait,
Mrs. F. Wait a minute.

I'm shorthanded,

I've got two homicide
investigations, and so far,

nobody at Down East Footwear has
filed any complaints against this lady.

Excuse me, Sheriff.

Where'd you find
these? Trash can.

Out back of Andy's apartment.

Receipts for the purchase of a pair
of work gloves and a coil of nylon cord.

The kind that was used
to strangle Leverett.

The kind Andy claims to have
found in Fred Berrigan's car.

So when you're suspended, you don't have
any authority as a police officer, do you?

No, I don't, but...

Then I don't have to answer
any more of your questions.

Darling, let it go.
Oh, just one, okay?

Mrs. Fletcher and Doc Hazlitt said you left
the coffee shop with George last night.

Now did you go over
to the shoe factory?

Look, like I told the Sheriff, I went
home and that's where I'm going now.

Patty. Andy.

Sheriff. Those receipts. Did you
verify my fingerprints weren't on them?

This isn't about receipts, Andy.

Five minutes ago, we found

what looks like the weapon
that killed Fred Berrigan.

It's a heavy wrench
with blood and hair on it.

Where'd you find it?

In the trunk of your car.

Andy, I'm arresting
you for murder.

Yeah. Thanks, Mike. I
appreciate it very much.

Talk to you later on.

Forensics.

Preliminary ID on the hair and
blood indicates it was Fred Berrigan's.

And there were no
fingerprints on the wrench?

Or on the receipts.

Like I've been
telling you, Sheriff.

Look, Andy, I wanna believe you, but
look what we have to work with here.

You claim to have discovered
the evidence against Fred.

You blame Fred for cheating you
and Patty big time on the house.

And now, you allegedly
discover Fred's body.

Excuse me. I could've sworn you
said you wanted to believe him?

Patty. Mort, there's something
here that just isn't tracking.

Nobody is suggesting that
Andy killed Leverett Boggs.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.

And if Andy didn't place
that evidence against Fred...

Then either Fred strangled Leverett
or somebody else did to frame Fred.

Which is what Andy's
been saying all along.

It all seems to hinge on
questionable evidence.

Hinge. Of course.

The gate hinge.

Say what?

Norcom. I believe I know
how to find out what it is.

Look, Sheriff, Mrs. Fletcher, I
swear I never even heard of this...

What is it, Norcom?

And I certainly was not
in the office last night.

Then how do you
explain these fibers?

After Fred was killed,

I snagged my sleeve on the gate
hinge between his and Meg's office.

Now I noticed that someone
else had caught themselves on it.

Someone wearing the same colors

as the muffler that you wore
earlier in the coffee shop.

Now, George told me that when
he picked you up at your apartment,

you were removing the price tag.

Meaning you just bought it.

All right. Yes. I was there.

You were trying to learn
about the Norcom file?

I found it on a printed list of Down
East Footwear's computer files

that Leverett Boggs
kept in his desk.

He'd underlined it. But I couldn't
find it on any of their computers.

I had tried them all
except for Mr. Berrigan's.

So you went back to his place

to see if you could
find it on his computer.

And was it there?

Oh, I never found out.

I had just fired up
Mr. Berrigan's computer

when I heard the door open.

I thought it was him.

I snuck out as fast as I could.

So you never actually
saw Fred or Andy?

No. I never saw anybody. Really.

You believe me, don't you?

Come on, I'll take you home.

Just don't leave town.

Um, are you gonna tell Mrs.
Berrigan that I gave false information?

That is your decision, Wendy.

Yeah. I don't know
that that broke any laws.

Seth, what on
earth are you doing?

Trying to reach...
Oh! Shh! Shh! Shh!

When Doris leaves,

Inspector Cardiff should recall the
telltale coffee stain he saw on page 42.

Oh, the heck with it!

If Dr. Henry
Pinkwater wants to talk,

he'll have to call me.

Mmm, one of those
voicemail setups, huh?

Oh, exactly.

An old friend of mine with
a big HMO up in Augusta.

They've got this recorded voice

that gives you several
multiple questions.

And you're supposed to punch
in the answer, and, Jessica, I tried.

I... Jess?

Oh!

I've gone and given you some
kind of answers again, haven't I?

Yes, Seth. You have.

If I'm correct, I know who
killed Leverett and Fred,

and I think I know
how it was done.

I think I've got a Boston
telephone directory upstairs.

What is it you wanted me to see?

Oh, I'm running a
password program.

It'll come up in a minute.

You know, this Norcom file,

the only computer in the
whole office that's got it

is your husband's.

I guess that's the password.

It figures.

Ah, North Comorra... Norcom.

And that's where you fill in
the amount you want to transfer.

I'll be damned. So that's where
all the money was disappearing to.

Fred was skimming it into
a Caribbean bank account.

Uh, Mrs. Berrigan,
if you'll forgive me,

I think it was you who
was stealing the cash.

But you set it up on
your husband's computer

just in case you
were discovered.

And when Leverett Boggs
found out what you had done,

you killed him.

And made it look
like Mr. Berrigan did it.

Ah, that's totally ridiculous!

Oh, really?

Look, you've gotta
understand, I don't really care,

any more than the fact that I saw
you kill your husband last night.

What?

I found this by his body.

And I'm sure the police will be
able to match it to your clothing.

Look, all I want is a
reasonable amount of money,

say $100,000 to start...

I knew you were up to
something. Give me that button!

Hold it right there,
Mrs. Berrigan!

Nice work, Miss Arnold.

Work? What do you mean?

Wendy was out of here
before you killed Fred,

and the button came
off one of my skirts.

Aren't you forgetting something?

I was on the phone to our
Boston office when Fred was killed.

No, you weren't on the
phone, Mrs. Berrigan.

But this was.

The call you placed
was to an employee

you knew wouldn't
be there at that hour.

The continuous music
from your tape recorder

kept his voicemail line
open while you were gone.

And when he listened to
his messages this morning,

he heard the music,
Beethoven's Fifth,

the same music we found this
evening on this recorder of yours.

I'd had it with Fred!

He was a lazy bum!
A rich man's son.

I did all the work. I
made the company viable

while he played golf and
ran around with other women.

A little over a year ago, I began
siphoning money into that offshore bank.

They confirmed there's a little
over $3,000,000 in that account.

I figured when I
got it up to five,

it'd be "Goodbye Fred,
goodbye Down East Footwear."

And you put the Norcom
file on Fred's computer

so that if anyone found it,
they'd think it was his doing.

And that's exactly
what happened.

Leverett stumbled across it.

And he must've
discovered the shortages.

He probably wanted someone
to confirm his suspicions.

And be sure of the numbers.

So he asked me for the names
of my accountant and my attorney.

So you strangled Leverett and
tried to hang your husband for it.

I thought I might be
able to have it both ways,

hold on to Down East
Footwear and get rid of Fred.

But it began to unravel

when it was Andy who
happened to find the evidence.

The one person in Cabot Cove

who seemed to have
a motive to frame him.

So I figured I'd just stick it
out for a few more months.

But then that creep of a
salesman, Craig Haber,

found out about
Norcom from Wendy.

And he told Fred.

Fred called me from
the Country Club.

I said we should meet at
the office and look into it.

I rigged the phone
call to Boston,

then went to the factory
and waited for him.

No!

I must've just
missed seeing you.

Well, the toughest part?

Trying to convince the
folks who doubted me

that there are no
hard feelings. Huh!

Well, if it was me, I'm not sure
I'd be that charitable toward them.

Patty, Andy, thought
you might like to see this.

They just faxed it to the office
from the county courthouse.

Whoa! They've awarded
us money from the Berrigans!

Enough to pay
for all the repairs.

Fantastic!

Well, that really is
something, isn't it, Jess?

Jess?

Of course!

She didn't kill those people.

Ralph Melville, the
furnace repairman, he did it.

Well, wait a minute, Mrs. F,

you mean Meg Berrigan didn't...

Oh! No, no, no, no, no!

It's my book. I just
solved my story problem.