Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 12, Episode 20 - Southern Double-Cross - full transcript

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

You must be wondering
what kind of a savage world

we live in Down Under,
eh, Mrs. Fletcher?

That's what I'm
here to find out.

Well, you've arrived in the
middle of a hornet's nest.

Just remember what happens to
anyone that owes me money for too long.

Eamonn McGill was
hanged for bank robbery.

Good heavens!

If he ever touches
her again, I'll kill him.

I'm not sure the police
would take it that way.

Just the Fletcher
woman to deal with.



You mean, you think
that I might be in danger?

Let's try a little outback
justice, shall we?

So, the bauxite mine

will not only get some
of you layabouts jobs,

it's gonna put Kookaburra
Downs on the map so to speak.

And to hell with
our sheep, right?

Sheepmen have been
supporting Kookaburra Downs

for two centuries, Jarvis!

All I'm saying is you gotta move
your sheep outta McGill Valley.

Ain't gonna happen.

Outta the best
grazing for 30 miles?

Well, Hatchey
Creek's just as good.

I mean, the council's all
behind Dad on this one.

Not quite all, eh, Mayor?



Right, Melba, all
but you. Duly noted.

But next week, the town's
gonna own the valley.

Not if the McGill
woman gets here.

That's right.

Come on, Roo,
not that one again.

She'll be here. You'll see.

Roo! Roo! She's here!
I'll bet this one's her!

Who?

A lady that just got
off the Brisbane bus!

She's coming this way,
and she'll be right in.

There she is.

Good day, ma'am. Can I help you?

Yes. Uh, I have a reservation.

My name is Fletcher.

Oh, how you goin',
Mrs. Fletcher?

Tim Jarvis, we
spoke on the phone.

Oh, yes, of course.

Yeah, you're in
room number four.

That's left at the
top of the stairs.

I'll get your bag
for you if you like.

Thanks. Looks as if I came
in in the middle of something?

No, no, just local politics.

Some of the sheepmen want
to stop the mine at McGill Valley.

McGill Valley?

You're not related to
Eamonn McGill, are ya?

Well, as a matter of fact,

that's what I'm here to
find out among other things.

Did Mr. Cathcart
check in by any chance?

Yeah. Yeah. He's
in room number two.

Oh, there's a message for you

from John Molen,
he's our librarian,

and he's keeper
of the local records.

I'll direct you there
once you're settled in.

Fine.

Oh, Hendrix! Fancy meeting
you here. Taking a holiday?

Stuff it. You left Brisbane
owing me 40 grand, mate.

No worries. You know, it's not
like I'm not gonna pay or anything.

Well, you got that right.

You made me come to this
god-forsaken dump to collect my money.

Now, where is it?

I should have it
for you any day.

You were due last week.

Well, I'll have it to you
by Friday, I promise.

I mean, you know,
I'll get it off my dad.

That's why I came back. I mean, get
the money, bring it back to Brisbane.

Friday.

Add another 10%, okay?

Ever since I got your
fax, Mrs. Fletcher,

I've been getting
together everything I could

on your Uncle Eamonn.

Oh, my goodness.

You've certainly gone to a
great deal of trouble, Mr. Molen.

Oh, my privilege, local
history being a hobby of mine.

I'm supposed to meet my
lawyer, Simon Cathcart, here today,

but he seems to
have disappeared.

He didn't drop in here, did he?

I'd say that's hardly a mystery worthy
of your next Detective Dyson novel.

How do you do, Mrs.
Fletcher? Colin Baxter.

Sergeant.

Cathcart was on his way to
McGill Valley yesterday afternoon.

Oh. And incidentally,

I think that my Detective Dyson
would've been more concerned with the fact

that Mr. Cathcart didn't
return to his room last night.

I wouldn't presume to trespass
on your literary expertise,

but perhaps he might've decided
to spend the night at Woomarra,

at the other end of the valley.

Did you find anything, Sergeant?

As you said, just
a broken window.

I better look around.

Apart from the town's financial records
being rearranged, nothing's missing.

Ah!

Probably just some
children up to mischief.

I'll fill out a report anyway.

Parents around here tend
to let their brats run wild.

If you'll excuse me.

Snotty English git.

Where were we?

Now, here is Eamonn McGill,

who is my grandmother's brother.

He left Ireland in 1890,

and the family never
heard from him again.

Well, he arrived here in 1893.

And within a few years, bought all
130,000 acres of the McGill Valley.

In those days land was
going for six pence an acre.

Ten cents. Isn't that amazing!

Anyway, he left the
land to your grandmother

or her descendants.

And as there didn't seem to be any
until Mr. Cathcart tracked you down,

the trust is
scheduled to expire...

Mr. Cathcart said 100 years
after Eamonn McGill's death.

Day after tomorrow.

Then, under the terms of
the will, it reverts to the town,

which I'm sure you'll have
something to say about.

Yes. I understand
that the sheep ranchers

have been leasing
the land from the trust.

I'll drive you out there
if you like. It's beautiful.

Well, perhaps later. I'd really like
to know more about Eamonn McGill.

Well, I've got the complete
transcript of his trial right here.

His trial?

Oh, I assumed you knew.

Your great uncle was
hanged for bank robbery.

Good heavens! Uncle Eamonn?

What on earth are you
talking about, Jarvis?

How could a claimant suddenly
show up hours before the trust reverted?

And J.B. Fletcher? It's unreal.

Some lawyer by the name
of Cathcart just dug her up.

And where's this
Mr. Cathcart now?

That's what Mrs. Fletcher
would like to know.

He's got a room upstairs.

Look, Orbit Mining has invested
considerable money on your word.

All right, you
guaranteed us the Valley.

Those advances we gave
you, they weren't charity.

Nick. Nick!

Okay, Tim, uh,
here's the problem.

Head office doesn't know that
we've given you any money.

They might interpret
it as a... Bribe?

Exactly.

So if for any reason
Kookaburra Downs

doesn't acquire the McGill
Valley and give us the contract

to start mining,

I'm afraid you'll have to
reimburse us the full amount.

Hey, look, Miss Brock,
Mr. Derby, this is a...

It's a small bump on the road.

The word around town is that you're
a member of the McGill family, right?

Well, maybe a
very distant niece.

Good on you. Any kin
of his is all right by me.

Melba Drummond. My son, Roo.

How do you do? Hi. Hello.

Cigar?

Oh, no, no. No
thanks. I'm trying to quit.

Are you here for
Eamonn McGill Day?

Yes. I guess I am.
Uh, what's it all about?

Yearly knees-up to celebrate when
he was hanged. Day after tomorrow.

He was only trying to get back the
money the governor swindled from the town.

I'll have you know my grandmum
saw him go at a public execution.

Terrible thing, but she always
said he went out like a real trouper.

Well, that's very comforting.

Mom, get to the real
point with Mrs. Fletcher.

You're gonna be filing a
claim for the valley, right?

I really need to talk to Simon Cathcart
first, but, yes, there is a possibility.

The town council's gonna
make an offer to buy it off you

and then turn around and lease it
to an American mining company.

The Sheepmen's
Association would like to be

first in with an offer
to lease it off you.

Fair price, mind.

Here, none of your sales
talk on my premises, Melba.

Mrs. Fletcher, don't you
believe her when she tells you

the town council's
selling out the sheepmen.

If and when you take
title to McGill Valley,

I would like my
innings with you,

on behalf of a truly fine
company, Orbit Mining.

There you are, Mrs.
Fletcher. Ready to go?

Absolutely.

Have you got time
for a coffee, Dad?

Oh, no. Not now, love, no.

Bring us a nice frosty
Fosters, would you, love?

I thought it was over?

It is.

Well, you don't have to put
up with his cheek then, do you?

Mrs. Fletcher?

If it turns out that I
have title to the Valley,

I really would be interested
to hear more, Melba.

Thanks.

Now she's the real McGill.

That's McCoy, Mum.

Is something bothering you?

Nah. How's she doing?

Good. The antibiotics
seem to be working.

Couple of days, we'll have you
back out there hopping about, mate.

And no more playing on the road.

You know, it's
lucky you found her,

she would've been
a goner for sure.

You saved her, not me.

You hear anything yet?

No. It's too late now.

Anyway, I probably don't have
what it takes to make it in vet school.

You've got the healing touch,
Linda. That's what counts.

I wish it was that easy.

You know, I can just
see myself in 20 years,

still serving cold ones
in the Kookaburra Arms.

Nothing wrong with that

'cause we'll have a few little
nippers by then, won't we?

Donald, when's it going to
sink into that pea brain of yours,

we're not getting married.

You promised.

I was 12.

Yeah. Well, we'll see.
Dad needs you out front.

Roo, would you
put her back for me?

Yeah.

Thanks.

You still putting crazy
ideas in my fiancée's head?

You're the nutter
around here, mate.

The aborigines believed the spirit
ancestors created the present world.

During Dreamtime.

Exactly.

We still call this
area Sacred Rocks.

It was a djang, a place
of spiritual potency.

The elders used to meet
here for corroborees.

Now all we get is a few kids out here for
a barbi once in a while, that's about it.

Shame.

A culture that lasted
for 40,000 years

has almost disappeared in 200.

John?

Wait. Let me.

Is it...

I'm afraid so, Jessica. It's
your lawyer, Simon Cathcart.

Oh, my Lord.

Attention, to any vehicle
eight to ten code 302.

Can see if anyone else...

BKI from Sierra 301.
Correct, we'll dance.

Roger, Sierra 301. Can
you tend 127 Prince Street?

Burglary in progress.

Mrs. Fletcher? Looks like a
single bullet wound to the chest.

Tell me, you came all the way to
Australia just to meet Mr. Cathcart?

Well, I was already scheduled
for a writers' conference in Sydney,

when he got in touch with
me last week in New York.

He told me about the
possible inheritance,

and he insisted that I
should be here by the fifth.

Well, you've arrived in the
middle of a hornet's nest.

These ranchers are a
pretty trigger-happy lot.

They've considered themselves
outside the law ever since...

Ever since Eamonn McGill?

No reflection on you, of course.

You know, it seems very unlikely
to me that one of the sheepmen

would have killed Mr. Cathcart.

Well, because he was
your key to the valley?

And not the council's.

If I took title,

I mean, it's more likely the
valley would remain sheep country.

Well, then, it might
be worth considering

who has the most to gain
from this bauxite mine.

Well, it's just like we heard. The
sheepmen are crowing all over town.

Convinced that J.B.
Fletcher will be on their side

in the event she has
a legitimate claim.

You know, she makes me
feel like an underachiever, Nick.

Charities, museums,

ten books on the New York times
best-seller list in the past 12 years.

And Jarvis has
failed us in every way.

Well, maybe not in every way.

Last night I got something on
him that's kind of interesting.

Uh, hold that thought.

Mrs. Fletcher? Ronda
Brock, Orbit Mining.

Oh, Miss Brock.

You haven't seen Roo
Drummond around here, have you?

I don't know Mr. Drummond
and I'm not certain I want to.

Roo might say the
same thing about you.

This is my associate,
Nicholas Derby.

Pleasure.

Can you spare a moment?

Well, all right. Just a moment.

I was sorry to hear about
your lawyer, Mrs. Fletcher.

Uh, can I ask, what are your
plans for the McGill valley

if you should
happen to inherit it?

Well, I really haven't had
a chance to think it through.

Our analysis indicates this is a very
economically viable bauxite deposit.

Let's not burden Mrs.
Fletcher with details, Nick.

If you were to lease it to
us, we would be prepared

to give you a handsome
percentage of revenues,

much more than any grazing
rights could ever be worth.

Well, at the risk
of sounding blunt,

I really can't imagine
leasing to a company

already responsible for five
major toxic disasters back home.

Ancient history, Jessica.

Orbit Mining is under new and
enlightened management, including myself.

We've adopted the most up-to-date
preventive cleansing techniques.

Well, I'd feel much
more comfortable

without the necessity for
cleansing anything, Miss Brock.

Now if you'll excuse
me, I really must find Roo.

The unstoppable
meets the immovable.

You said you have
something on Jarvis?

Does Mr. Cathcart's death mean
you won't get your inheritance?

Well, not necessarily.

Thanks to Mr. Cathcart's
law partners,

the Brisbane courts have
delayed the dissolution of the trust

until my claim can be analyzed.

Not sure that I like that. It gives
Jarvis more time to cause trouble.

Meanwhile, I can't understand what
Mr. Cathcart was doing at the Sacred Rocks.

Checking on Eamonn's land?

I think that he went out
there to meet someone.

I found several fresh pistachio shells
on the ground not far from the body.

All right. All right,
so I was there.

I waited, but I didn't even
see him. Dead or alive.

Mr. Cathcart told
me on the phone

that a local resident had paid him
to find an heir to the McGill trust.

Now, that was
you, wasn't it, Roo?

I called him after that Orbit
crew started firing up the council

about the mining operation.

After all this time, we
didn't hold out much hope.

But we hired investigators
in Ireland and then New York

and ta-da.

So, it's because of you that
I'm in Kookaburra Downs.

Cathcart wanted to
meet someplace quiet,

so he could give me
copies of the research,

seeing as how I'd paid for it.

That must've cost a bit.

All the money Grandpa left me.

Roo, that money was to
put you through college.

Face it, Mum, that's
your dream, not mine.

And I didn't tell you cause you
would've said I was stark raving bonkers,

like everyone else in
town. Wouldn't you?

I gotta get back.

Melba, I think that Roo should tell
Sergeant Baxter everything that he knows.

Right, Jess. Good
if he told someone.

She wouldn't take help if she
was being eaten by a Great White.

I just wanted her to be able
to keep her sheep station.

Ever since Dad died,
it's all she's got left.

Well, she's still got you.

So, it looks like one problem
is out of the way, at least.

Leaving one major
one, Jessica Fletcher.

She's convinced me that Orbit
can't apply leverage on her.

So the thing is, Tim,
if she is the sole heir,

we're in trouble and
you're gonna get us out.

What are these?

We'll call them
your incentive, Tim.

But these are town treasury
balances, how did you get these?

My colleague, Mr. Derby,
explored the library last night.

Yeah, I heard
about the break-in.

And he got a hold of some
of the town's account records,

as you can see,
showing 20,000 siphoned

from town coffers in
the last month alone

in checks endorsed by you.

Well, there's an
awful mistake here.

I'm not sure the police
would take it that way.

What do you want?

Well, what we both want, Tim.

You'll clear the
way for Orbit Mining

to acquire McGill Valley
from Kookaburra Downs.

I'm not interested in how,
just get it done. Hmm?

So what exactly was Cathcart
supposed to give you out there?

Birth and marriage records
from Ireland and the States.

Proof that Mrs. Fletcher's
related to Eamonn McGill.

But there was nothing like
that at the murder scene.

Or in his car, which we
found about half a mile away.

Don't you think that's
strange, Drummond?

That's not so strange if
the killer was out to stop

Mrs. Fletcher's legitimate
claim to the valley.

Or maybe quite the opposite.

Perhaps Cathcart was
bearing bad news, Drummond.

Mrs. Fletcher has
no legitimate claim,

in which event the lawyer was done away
with for an altogether different motive.

You can go.

Mrs. Fletcher. A word, please?

Oh, of course.

Thank you for bringing him in,

but now, I'd like you
to stay out of this.

And quite honestly, I think it
would be better if you left town.

You mean, you think
that I might be in danger?

Suppose your arrival has
frustrated the killer's goals.

That makes you his
next logical choice.

Well, I really can't
leave just now.

I feel partly responsible
for Simon Cathcart's death.

You little mongrel, how could
you do that to your own dad?

What in blazes made you
think you'd get away with it?

Forging my name like
that on town checks.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I had to.

Hendrix threatened
to slice me up.

I was gonna pay it back
with the mining money.

No one had to know.

Oh, yeah. No one but that woman,
Ronda Brock and her man Derby.

Don't you see what
you've done to me?

Now I'm in their bloody pocket.

I should never have
helped you in the first place.

It's only made your
gambling worse.

Now I see what value you
place on your own father.

You're not my son anymore.

I'm cutting you off as of now.

What did I tell you?

You got in. Congratulations.

Hey, Linda's
going to vet school.

Hey, I'll still be here
when you get back.

More's the pity. Leave me alone.

No, listen, Linda.

She said let go of her.

Donald.

Donald!

Haven't you caused
enough trouble already?

Get outside and sober up
before I knock you for six.

Sorry about that, Roo.

If he ever touches
her again, I'll kill him.

Yeah.

You okay?

I'm all right, Linda.

The old man's getting
squeezed from both ends, right?

Well, that's our business.

But he'll just about give away those mining
rights, we'll have him so screwed up.

What about the kid?

You just do what
you'd normally do.

And you'll still cover him?

I'm good for anything you
don't get from the old man,

plus a little bonus when Orbit
gets the rights, just like we agreed.

You said to keep
upping his credit.

I don't normally carry a
stiff like Donald this long.

Trust me. Just the
Fletcher woman to deal with,

and we are home and dry.

There you go, love.

Thanks.

He robbed quite a few banks
before he was finally caught.

Of course, in those days, most of
us came from convict stock anyway.

So Eamonn McGill became
a sort of local Robin Hood.

Yes. Except Robin Hood didn't leave
Sherwood Forest in trust for his family.

Nothing more important
than family, I always say.

Phone call, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh. Thanks. Excuse
me. Don't... Right back.

Thank you.

Hello.

Mrs. Fletcher,
It's Donald Jarvis.

I've just gotta tell
you, it's not his fault.

Who?

Dad.

It's me.

I've got a terrible
confession to make.

Why are you calling
me about this?

Because it's your uncle's land

and you ought to know the truth.

Look, do you know
where the stables are?

Yes.

Well, I'll meet you there in 10
minutes, but don't trust anyone.

Then why should I
trust you, Donald?

Because I've got Simon Cathcart's
briefcase and all your papers.

Thank you so much
for dinner, John.

There's something that
I have to check up on.

Donald?

Donald?

Mrs. Fletcher?

I saw you leave the hotel.

I was worried about you
being out here on your own.

It's him you should have
been concerned about.

Donald Jarvis!

It was like a sickness with him.

He couldn't stop.

He ran through
everything I ever saved

and more.

And then last night,

I disowned him.

I told him I wasn't gonna pay
any more of his gambling debts.

Then on top of that, he was
publicly humiliated by his ex-girlfriend.

You shouldn't blame yourself
if he committed suicide.

That's my flesh and
blood. I raised him.

Who else?

That'll be all for
now, Mr. Jarvis.

You must be wondering
what kind of a savage world

we live in Down Under,
eh, Mrs. Fletcher?

First your Mr. Cathcart,
getting shot in the back.

Now my Donald doing
away with himself.

Well, at least Donald's suicide
clears up a couple of things for us.

Look, I couldn't say
this in front of his father,

but when I spoke to Donald
on the phone last night,

he did not sound like a man
who was about to kill himself.

He told you he had
a confession to make.

Then he turns up with
Cathcart's briefcase,

everything intact, all your
trust papers in perfect order.

Are you suggesting
that he killed Cathcart?

Remorse is a powerful
emotion, Mrs. Fletcher.

He killed Cathcart
and stole the papers

to assure the town would
get the valley by default.

Then you turn up, the
papers mean nothing.

The murder is just
a dreadful waste.

His whole world goes to pieces.

Disavowed by his father, spurned
by the girl he loves, deep in debt.

I don't believe that
Donald committed suicide.

He told me that he
had the briefcase...

And the killer
left the briefcase

to create the
illusion of a suicide?

Wouldn't you?

Okay. I'll tell you what,
lay it off at the same odds.

Yeah. I'll be home today.

We've gotta talk.

Shame about old
Donald toppin' himself.

Yeah. The cops may think that,
but you just couldn't wait, could you?

Now, you look here, mate,

in my line of work, it helps if clients
ain't sure what you're gonna do next.

I'm not going to admit
anything, if that's what you think.

We had a deal.

We still do. I've got a
payoff coming, remember,

when you sort out
this McGill thing.

Yeah. Some hope. Any leverage
we had with Jarvis is gone.

So don't figure on getting
anything else out of me

after this screw up, all right.

Just remember what happens to
anyone that owes me money for too long.

I don't know.

I just could've been a
bit nicer about it, that's all.

I don't want you
feeling so responsible.

Here, if Roo hadn't stepped in,

I was about ready to give
Donald a knuckle sandwich myself.

Sure, Dad.

You know, I really
liked Donald at one time.

He changed, Linda.

I hate to say this about anyone,
but you're better off with him gone.

He was determined to drag
you down one way or another.

You're always out for my
best interests, aren't you?

Well, I'm your
dad. That's my job.

The rumors have
been going all over town

that you've got a deal
set up with Ronda Brock.

And I can just imagine
who's spreading that rumor.

The sheepmen can't compete with
Orbit Mining when it comes to money.

Melba, they're simply trying to
undermine our trust in each other,

and unfortunately,
they're succeeding.

Now you know where I stand.

Sorry, Jess.

It's just that we've
learned to trust no one.

Not that I don't
trust him, mind you,

but Roo didn't come
home last night.

I reckon he's a bit cheesed
off with the way I treated him.

Well, I think he put you and
Kookaburra's interests ahead of his own.

I'd be proud of him.

Melba, you're the
town treasurer, right?

Yeah. Not much to it.

Collect the taxes once a
year. Audit the accounts.

Sign the checks?

Mmm-hmm, me and
the mayor, Tim Jarvis.

Something on your mind?

Why the hell did I have to hear
this from Melba Drummond?

Oh, I only found
out yesterday myself.

I was so angry with Donald.

That's when I told
him he was on his own.

See, I thought I could pay the
town back. No one'd be the wiser.

Last thing I could do for him.

Very convenient he's
not here to deny it.

Meaning?

Well, maybe you took
the money to pay his debts,

and then you killed him when
you couldn't keep up with his habit.

Your arrogant pommy bastard.

My son commits suicide
and you say that I killed him.

If you'd ever loved a kid,
you'd never say a thing like that.

I apologize.

Much as I love this job,
sometimes it takes over the man.

My wife and boy were killed in a
hit-and-run accident six years ago.

That's why I came
here. To forget.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know.

No one here did.

Look, I don't know if this
makes it better or worse,

but the coroner's report indicates
that Donald was murdered.

Tim, you did everything
you could for the boy.

Yeah. Thanks. Yeah.

Go on home.

Mrs. Fletcher, no hard feelings?

Somehow, it's a relief
Donald wanted to tell someone.

Melba, I'm gonna
resign as mayor.

This darn mining idea's
done no good for anyone.

I just want Kookaburra
Downs back the way it was.

Good on ya, Tim.

Mrs. Fletcher,

coroner's report confirms
Donald's neck was broken

and he was already dead
before he was strung up.

Hmm.

The coroner also mentions
that there were severe lacerations

and splinters on Donald's hand,

which might indicate that there was
some sort of struggle before he succumbed.

Oh, that explains
the broken railing.

By the way, Cathcart was killed
with a single bullet to the back.

That was an exit would
we saw in his chest.

Thank you again.

Thank you, Sergeant.

I want to know as soon as
anyone sees Roo Drummond.

Have you seen Boyd Hendrix?

He just checked out
about 10 minutes ago.

Said he was headed
back to Brisbane.

Good day, Jessica.

Oh, John.

You find something?

Well, yes, Sergeant Baxter
believes that this may have broken

when Donald was
struggling with his killer.

And this may just help him
to discover who it might be.

Uh-huh.

Do you like stables, John?

Uh, no, well, um,
I saw you come in.

I thought maybe you'd like to check out the
Eamonn McGill research I dug out for you.

Well, I very much
appreciate your trouble, John,

but I'd like to take a
rain check, all right?

Oh, I understand.

Slow down, Sandy. You'll get
indigestion if you're not careful.

Roo! Where've you been?

Everyone's been
looking for you all over.

Never mind. There's
something I've gotta tell you.

You know, Roo, I thought you
might never get around to saying that.

Glad to see you're
back in town, Roo.

Looks like everything worked
out the way you planned it,

except for one little problem.

What plan? What're you on about?

Murdering Donald Jarvis.

Now wait a minute. I
thought he killed himself?

Wrong.

And half the town heard
you threaten him last night.

But he didn't mean it, it was...

This is crazy, Baxter.

Even your mother doesn't know
where you've been since then.

Yeah. Well, that
doesn't mean I killed him.

No. No, but this does.

Mrs. Fletcher found it near
where Donald was murdered.

Oh, it's a perfect
match, Cinderella.

Must have torn it off
when you broke his neck.

I arrest you for the
murder of Donald Jarvis.

Looks like your friend Mrs. Fletcher
just redeemed the McGill family name.

What are you doin'?

Get out, you mongrel.

What, are you out of your mind?

You are makin' a big
mistake here, mate.

Yeah, and I don't care if they
send every devil in hell after me.

You're going to pay for
what you did to Donald.

So I leaned on him a
little, it's only business.

Business. You call
murder business?

Wait up here. I
never killed him.

No, look, I swear.

I never harmed a hair
on that kid, I swear.

Let's try a little bit of
outback justice, shall we?

Look here, Baxter,

Roo's a real man and
he'll stick up for himself,

but he ain't no Jack the Ripper.

Roo, it was self-defense, right?

You two got in another fight,
and then in the heat of the moment

the worst happened and
you tried to cover it up.

It'd be best if
you admit it now.

I never saw him
after he left the hotel.

Do you still think that
Donald killed Cathcart?

Or are you blaming
it on Roo now?

One thing at a time,
please, Mrs. Fletcher.

Where did you go last
night after you left the bar?

He was with me all night.

Are you willing to
testify to that under oath?

It's all right, Linda.

After everything that happened
yesterday, I needed some time alone.

I went walkabout out at Sacred
Rocks. Slept under the stars.

This morning it all
seemed a lot clearer.

I had something I
needed to do back in town.

That's the first I
knew he was dead.

Here's your killer, Sergeant.

Sit.

Who's he?

His name's Boyd Hendrix.

He's the scumbag loan shark
Donald owed the money to.

Threatened to carve him up, and then
he did him in when Donald couldn't pay.

Let him tell you himself.

Sergeant, I want this man
arrested for kidnapping.

Did Donald Jarvis owe you money?

Yeah, he was a client. I'm a
registered bookmaker from Brisbane.

I came up here to
sort out payment terms.

All above board, mind you.

You may want to
look at this, Sergeant.

It just dropped
out of his pocket.

If you want me later, you
know where to find me.

Now, I'm no expert, Mr. Hendrix,

your accounts seem to indicate

you've been charging your
clients exorbitant interest.

Don't you know that's a crime?

It's a plant. I've never seen
that book before in my life.

Now, I'm not saying another
word until I talk to my lawyer.

Lock these two up until we
get a chance to sort this out.

Hang on, you're not sticking my
Roo for something he never done.

Not sticking?

The nail. Of course.

Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, Melba's right.
Roo didn't do it.

Then it was Boyd Hendrix?

Listen, if you'll bear with me,

I think the whole town
will know by tonight.

Hello?

I was getting
concerned, Jessica.

I couldn't find you.

Well, not without good reason.

After my arrival here,
I was the only person

between Mr. Cathcart's killer and his
goal to see the mine become a reality.

And that was the same
person that killed Donald?

Almost certainly. Except I don't believe
Donald's murder was premeditated,

was it, Mr. Jarvis?

Carry on, Mrs. Fletcher.

You got me on tenterhooks.

What started me thinking
was a chance remark

you made this morning
at the station house.

You must be wondering
what kind of a savage world

we live in Down Under,
eh, Mrs. Fletcher?

First your Mr. Cathcart,
getting shot in the back.

You had no way of knowing that
Mr. Cathcart had been shot in the back,

because it wasn't until
later the coroner confirmed

the wound in his chest
was actually an exit wound.

Well, you're a writer. You
deal in figures of speech.

But it was a simple move that
Sergeant Baxter made earlier today

that reminded me of
something much more important.

The spindle on his
desk reminded me

of the broken railings
here in the stables

and a nail that was
exposed as a result

of Donald's struggle
with his killer.

Now, when I checked
in at your hotel,

I remember clearly that there was
nothing wrong with your right hand.

But this morning, I noticed
a very bad scratch there.

Yes, that scratch, Mr. Jarvis.

I believe you injured your
hand on a bare nail in the stable

when you fought with your son.

I heard a rumor that you
knew who killed my son.

It's all pie in the
sky, Mrs. Fletcher.

If that's all you got, I got more
important business to deal with.

Sorry, but she's
got it right, Tim.

That nail tested
positive for human blood.

Whoever it belonged to, fought
with Donald, broke his neck

and tried to make
it look like suicide.

Now who do you suppose that was?

I was prepared to do
anything for the boy.

Getting rid of Cathcart,
starting the mine.

It would've solved all
his money problems

and given the town a boost.

He found where I'd hidden the
briefcase after killing Cathcart.

He was drunk, wasn't
making any sense.

He was saying he was...
He'd called you, Mrs. Fletcher.

He was gonna return
the briefcase to you.

He was gonna fix
things with the police.

What do you think
you're doing with that?

I've already phoned
Mrs. Fletcher.

You what?

I'm gonna call the police, too.

We fought. I lost all reason.

You're nothing
but trouble for me.

Donald?

Donald?

Afterwards, I tried to
make it look like suicide.

God forgive me, Mrs. Fletcher.

After you arrived,
just for a moment,

I thought if I finished you
off, I'd solve all my problems.

You planted the button
that framed Roo Drummond?

Yeah. Yeah, I found it after
the fight in the bar between them.

I gave everything in
the world to that boy.

Nothing was enough for him.

Well, now that you've
got a new mayor,

I have decided to give
McGill Valley to the town

as a conservancy
for sheep grazing.

And Sacred Rocks will be
given back to the aborigines.

Good on you, Jess.

Will you be coming
back for the wedding?

Well, congratulations.

It won't be for a while yet.

I have to graduate
from vet school first.

Oh, of course. But if I'm in
Australia, I'd love to be there.

Yeah? Well, we'll have to make sure
that she comes back then, won't we?

Quiet, come on, guys. Quiet.

It's my distinct privilege
as your new mayor

to declare that from now on,

Eamonn McGill Day will be
changed to Jessica Fletcher Day.

I suppose this puts you
one up on your uncle.

You didn't even
have to be hanged.