Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 12, Episode 6 - Nan's Ghost: Part 1 - full transcript

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

(THUNDER CRASHING)

EILEEN: She's scared
away all my paying guests.

I thought you were
selling the place.

That's my intention.

My mother's not gonna
sign your contract.

You'd better tell her that.

You know, her father
believes she was murdered.

Don't the dead cry out
to us to right wrongs?

Her ghost haunts
the garden here.

I don't believe in spirits
either, Mrs. Fletcher.



Bloody foolishness! I mean, just
who the hell do you think you are?

Don't advise a friend
to break his own laws.

Nan told me about it
before she disappeared.

She said it came from
the Cromwell treasure.

I assure you it's a fake,
not a very good one.

Someone is up to
a very crude joke.

Treasure's a myth, Jess.

Nan must've stumbled
upon their hiding place.

EILEEN: The rats had
eaten the flesh off her bones.

(THUNDER CRASHING)

Nan, darling! Don't run from me!

Nan! I see you! I'm coming!

Wait!

(SQUEAKING)



No!

Nan. Oh, dearest child.

Nan, no.

JESSICA: As I remember,
the best route from here

is through Rossaveal,
and then Knock.

Jess, have you forgotten I was
born in the village of Ballyknock?

I'll have us there in a jiffy.

Rory, your jiffy is
anybody else's two hours.

How long is it since you
were down here to see Eileen?

Oh, it's a long time.

The commissioner had me on this smuggling
operation out of Dundalk. Over a year.

Well, that's the price you pay
for being promoted to inspector.

It was like pulling teeth
getting this little holiday.

Listen, Jess, about Eileen.

She's been a widow
two years now,

and you understand her
sensibilities better than I.

Would you let me
know if I get too pushy?

If I carry on a little too much?

Oh, Eileen's one lady
who'll let you know herself.

Yeah.

Rory?

Well, I might've made
a mistake 30 years ago.

This time I may just
up and marry that girl.

You finish your tea. All right.

I'll get the check
and bring the car.

Oh! I'm so sorry.

I simply wasn't looking
where I was going. I'm sorry.

No, it's my fault.

Well, thank you very much.

VINCENT: Since when did I
agree to this clause in the contract?

That was never there before.

Yeah, Vincent Nader here.

Listen, there'll be a Walter
Berkeley waiting for me.

Tell him I'll be an hour late.

Can't you get any more
speed out of this thing?

Oh, cut it out, Vince,
you'll get us killed.

VINCENT: It was your plane
that was two damn hours late.

What about your
half of the financing?

You said it'd be in
escrow last week.

Oh, I don't anticipate
any further delays.

A couple of weeks from now,
we'll be starting work on the hotel.

Not just any hotel,
Lafferty. She'll be a five star.

Like nothing you ever saw in
this rundown neck of the woods.

EILEEN: It's such
a disappointment.

I was so looking forward
to seeing the two of you

and now here it is with
tears instead of smiles.

It's a terrible thing
to have happened.

But Jess and I'll try
and cheer you up.

You know, I remember Nan Conroy.

She was helping you in
the kitchen three years ago.

I think she had a real
talent for writing and poetry.

Oh, such a talent
for an 18-year-old.

You know, her father thought
she'd tired of Ballyknock

and gone off to
Belfast with some boy.

That was about a year ago.

Mrs. O'Bannon,

I called about the door being
welded shut as you requested.

The men'll be here tomorrow.

What a dreadful way for Nan
to have died, Superintendent.

How did it happen?

Excuse me, Jess. Eileen,
that door was rusted shut

long as I can remember.

JOYCE: There's the mystery.

We had strong Westerlies
about the time Nan disappeared.

Our best guess is the
door must've opened

and then blew shut on her.

Oh, congratulations on
the promotion, Inspector.

If there's a problem
in the village,

it'll be a comfort to have
a professional from Dublin

showing me and the
lads the latest procedures.

Oh, I think not, Superintendent.
I'm on me holidays.

I take in kids for the summer
holidays from the Dublin art colleges.

Oh, it is great fun now.

Oh, I love this old place.

I'll take the bags up, ma'am.

Thank you, Leonard.

Leonard, he's the new
houseman and chef.

A bit dour, you know, but his Irish
stew's (EXCLAIMS) pure nectar.

And Deirdre will be here?

Oh, she'll be here down
from Dublin for dinner.

And Ian is in the village
at this very minute

trying to get a loan for
some new farm equipment.

Oh. RORY: What was that?

I thought you were selling
the place. (SIGHING)

You said you were
moving up to Dublin.

That's my intention.

But Ian is doing his
best to talk me out of it.

I'll be damned if he'll succeed.

Matthew. Hello, Ian.

BARTENDER: The usual, Ian?

Ain't it terrible
about Nan Conroy?

Ah, terrible isn't the word.
It's a black day all around.

Thanks. BARTENDER:
You're welcome.

You saw the bank, then.

Aye. The sods got wind
of Mother's plan to sell.

Now they have to wait
and see how that goes

before they'll make up their
mind and risk their precious money.

Anyhow, I've still got
the Cork banks lined up.

Is your sister down yet?

Aye. Later on today.

And try to keep that lovesick
look off your puss, will you?

You know how it
turns Deirdre off.

Oh, Ian.

Anyway, it's gonna
be some kind of mixer.

Mother's got her
hotel magnate staying.

Hey, speak of the devil.
Here he is with his pretty wife.

Do you hear the rumors he's out
to cut the heart out of the old wing

and put in a bar-sauna-
bloody pool room?

Ah, Ian. I don't believe
you've met my wife, Andrea.

How do you do?

And that's Walter Berkeley.
The architect who...

IAN: Excuse me.

Mr. Berkeley can draw all
the pretty pictures he wants.

I thought I'd made it clear.

My mother's not gonna
sign your contract.

VINCENT: You'd
better tell her that.

Look, there'll be plenty of jobs for you
and your people once the hotel opens.

Roast your jobs, all right?

None of my people will be
carrying golf bags and suitcases

into any blasted hotel of yours.

So let me tell you once again.

Upon my honor, your
hotel is not gonna happen.

JOYCE: Dublin said little
more than you'd be at the castle.

Thankfully, it wouldn't be on my budget
and advised against any sort of a fuss.

Oh. You mean there won't be
a whirlwind of cocktail parties?

Something to do with
money-laundering?

Now where the bloody
hell did you hear that?

Just scuttlebutt.

It so happens it's true.

But as far as anybody's
concerned, I'm here on holiday.

Of course, sir. You got it?

Yes, sir. I handled
the inquiries personally,

and they'll be expecting
a visit or a call from you.

Good. All the
businesses in the area?

All the proprietors?

Do you think the bank'll
give us a record of revenues?

I do.

Then that's a good start.

Nicely done, Super.
Thank you very much.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Have you thought about
what branch of medicine

you might want to
specialize in, Deirdre?

I'm through with the clinics.

In two weeks’ time I
start a year of residency.

There'll be time
for that decision.

You don't seem too sure yet.

Well, see, I have
this problem, Jess.

Maybe I've been in too
many operating rooms,

but I'm beginning to
wonder whether I have

whatever it is that you need
to have to be a first-rate doctor.

Oh.

Mrs. Fletcher. Hello.

Glad to see you back.

Deirdre, you look terrific.

You're not so bad
yourself, mister.

Hey, you'll never guess
who's about to have a baby.

DEIRDRE: I'm sure I couldn't.

My sister Kitty.

Good news. Who's
she having it for?

Well, you remember Ernest
Lowry? They're married, of course.

It happened rather quickly.

Here, show me a drink
and I'll catch you up.

Excuse us? Oh, yes.

More coffee, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, thank you, Moira.

I'm sure today was
very painful for you.

You and Nan were very close.

We're burying her tomorrow.

I know. I plan to be there.

Some of the finest pieces of
Cromwell weaponry in the world.

Really? Better feast
your eyes on them then.

They'll be hanging in a
hotel lobby before long.

You've got an antique business
yourself up in Dublin, haven't you? Yeah.

How can you afford to spend
so much time down here then?

Assuming, of course,
that's any of your business,

the Cromwell period's
a specialization of mine.

Also, Eileen's kindnesses make it very
hard for me to stay away from Ballyknock.

Oh, really? Well, now that you
bring the bloody subject up...

Rory... Excuse us, Dr. Sullivan,

but I really must have a
word with the inspector.

Well, you asked me to
monitor your behavior.

If you don't want to
embarrass Eileen,

you can start off
by avoiding him.

He... He was baiting me, Jess.

Yes, well, I have an
even bigger problem.

I can't seem to find my wallet.

(DOOR CREAKING OPEN)

So, how was their
weekend in Dublin?

Like the others.

A light lunch, his
choice of wine,

Médoc '83, 30 quid a bottle.

Afternoons spent in a little
love nest off Malahide Road.

Your wife paid for everything.

Mr. Nader, I've been thinking.

My nights and weekends are worth
more than what you're paying me.

You wouldn't want the
party I'm keeping an eye on

to find out what you're up to.

You'll continue to do
just as I say, at my price.

Or Mrs. O'Bannon'll learn that
she has an ex-convict in her house.

There's more inside, Siobhan.

Stop your sniveling.

I can't help it.

I keep thinking of Nan
dying in that awful place

all because of what
she thought she'd found.

The girl was a silly dreamer
and look where it got her.

IAN: You leave her be, Leonard.

And you stop your bullying or
you'll have a face full of knuckles.

Did you forget?

Your mother said
I could leave early.

We were supposed to go
see a new band in Rossaveal.

I know, but I had
other things to do.

(SNIFFLES) (SOFTLY) Hey.

(HUSHING)

It's all right. It's all right.

I'll miss Nan so.

I know. She's in the
best of places now.

I'm trying my hand at this
really torrid historical romance.

Anne Rice meets
Barbara Cartland.

The Mel Gibson and David
Hasselhoff clash swords

over the bold, proud,
full-breasted Rafaella.

Sounds absolutely
marvelous, Zuleika.

What seems to be the problem?

I mean, are you
having writer's block?

Mmm, inspiration.

I mean, there's gobs of history
around this place, but no romance.

Oh, Jessica. You're giving
me a very strange look.

Oh. I'm so sorry,

but, you know, I'm convinced
that we have met before,

but I cannot, for the
life of me, think where.

I mean, Zuleika is a
very distinctive name.

Please, don't strain yourself.

You might live to regret it.

And then again, maybe you won't.

Our gay divorcee's been blotto
every night for two months now.

Well, I'm just surprised that
Eileen hasn't shown her the door.

She would, except Zuleika is
one of our few paying guests.

Oh.

There's a phone
call for you, Rory.

The phone is right there.
Thank you. Excuse me.

Yeah. This is Lanahan.

Sounds like you're having a lark
up there at the castle, Inspector.

Yeah, well, that's a
fact. Who might this be?

You were in to see that boob
Superintendent Joyce this afternoon.

He'll be no help with your
money-laundering investigation.

Oh, but you can be, is that it?

Where do we go from here?

Mind you, it's just
between you and me.

Else someone
close could get hurt.

All right. When and where?

I'll be in touch.

Jessica, this young man
has something of yours.

Remember at the pub this
morning, when we sort of collided?

I found this under
the table after you left.

Oh. What a relief, Mister...

Peter Franklin.

Well, to be quite
honest, Peter Franklin,

I never expected
to see this again.

Well, I'm hitching up to Tipperary,
so it wasn't too far out of my way.

EILEEN: Well, come and
get dried out by the fire

and I'll have the kitchen
put up some supper for you.

Oh, I don't want to intrude.

Nonsense.

You'll go to Tipperary in the morning
when this storm has passed, right?

Well now, if that
doesn't beat all.

Why is it I don't believe
a word that he said?

Eileen, this morning you
seemed less than willing

to say how Jack Conroy
had found his daughter.

Oh, he was following her ghost.

Oh, come on now. You
know very well that I don't...

I know. I know. You
don't believe in ghosts.

That's why I put you and Rory, a couple
of empiricists here, in the old wing.

Thanks.

Where I have seen
and heard Nan myself.

Yes, down there.

Listen, Jessica, she's scared
away all my regular paying guests.

I mean, if you don't see her,
you will most certainly hear her.

Oh, and the awful
clawing and scratching.

Do you know, when Jack
Conroy found Nan's body,

the rats had eaten
the flesh off her bones.

I'll say no more.

Sleep tight, Jess.
Breakfast at nine, hmm?

Well, good night.

(WOLF HOWLING)

(CLANKING)

Jess? (GASPS)

Oh, sorry. What
the devil is that?

Well, Eileen says that
it's Nan Conroy's ghost.

(CLANKING CONTINUES)

(MAN GRUNTING)

(RUMBLING)

You know, common sense
tells us it's not a ghost, right?

Oh, absolutely. Of course.

I mean, many of these ancient
old places have air shafts

that play tricks with
the most normal sounds.

Right.

There. You see, it stopped.

(SIGHS)

(LAUGHING) Yeah.

Here you go, Jess. Ah, thanks.

Rory, you asked my advice.

Well, during dinner,

I heard you in so many words
offer yourself to Eileen as her, quote,

"Only escape from a lonely
and bitter widowhood," unquote.

Wrong.

Oh, Jess, it loses a little
something in the translation.

Thank you, dear. You see?

You're already a great help
to a poor lovelorn copper.

(LAUGHING)

Good night, Jess. Good night.

(DOOR CREAKING OPEN)

(WOMAN CRYING)

MAN: We'll have this welded up
and no one will get in here again.

JOYCE: A dungeon's a dungeon.

A place to be put
into and not get out.

You've not missed
anything, Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh. Nan was a bright and
intelligent young woman.

It wasn't in the cards for
her to be trapped like that.

JOYCE: The child had more
curiosity than common sense.

The old hasp was corroded
and simply gave out.

A year later, the door
is conveniently open

so that Jack Conroy can follow his
daughter's so-called ghost inside?

I don't believe in spirits
either, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, then you must be wondering

who'd want us to believe in Nan's
ghost in the first place, and why.

Thank you for your
kindness, Mrs. O'Bannon.

Oh, not at all, Jack.

Did you see the
way the sun came out

when Father Foley
gave the blessing?

Poor Nan's at peace now.

Thank you for coming.

Moira, tell Mrs. Fletcher.

Moira?

Mr. Conroy doesn't believe
Nan's death was an accident.

And what do you believe?

Don't the dead cry out
to us to right wrongs?

Nan will tell us if it's so.

Well, I believe that the dead
rely on us to tell their stories,

and that leaves it up
to you and me, Moira.

Sad occasion, Jessica.

Poor Jack Conroy,
he's not himself.

MATTHEW: Danny Mayhew
works for the building commission.

He told me Nader's lawyer filed building
specs on the hotel early this morning.

IAN: Do me a favor then.

The commission keeps its
files in your station house.

What would it take to see that
those papers were lost for a few days?

Oh, Ian, I couldn't do that.

Damn it, Matthew, a
week or two is all I need.

Now the Cork banks are
gonna come through, you'll see.

I'm a policeman, man.

Don't advise a friend
to break his own laws.

Sorry if I startled
you, Mrs. Nader.

I couldn't believe it when
you walked in last night.

You followed me
here. No, I didn't.

Uh-huh. It just
happened. I swear.

Well, you're gonna spoil everything
'cause Vincent's getting very suspicious.

Well, hold up a minute.

You know, after we
parted ways in Dublin,

I went to this funky
little pub off the green.

Mmm-hmm.

And this little red-headed guy,

a total stranger, comes up
to me, sits down next to me,

and like a scene out of a movie,

he's offering me five grand
to do this little job for him

here in Ballyknock.

I mean, is that...
Is that fate or not?

I think Vincent
is pulling a trick.

What small job?

Well, I... I can't say. I
mean, it's legal and...

You stole Mrs.
Fletcher's wallet.

Well, now, let me tell
you how that happened.

I don't want to hear about it.

Now, please, get it through your
thick head once and for all, darling,

that I cherish every single
moment we have together...

But... but I just...

you love your marriage more.

Mmm-hmm.

And I promise you, I
promise you, I won't spoil it.

IAN: All I'm asking for is time!

Another growing season and
we'll have the new equipment.

Another growing season.

How many years
have I heard that?

First from your father,
God rest him, now from you.

All right. Stop about
my father, all right?

It was his wish that I do
something with this place.

This place has been
falling apart from day one.

It was your father's airs and
pretensions to be a gentleman farmer

that had his wife making beds!

Oh, yes! And scouring
the pots and pans,

selling the pictures off
the walls just to stay alive!

I lived with your father's pipe dream
for years before you were born, Ian,

and now is my chance
to get out from under it.

Oh, now there's a
pipe dream, Mother.

Huh? Dublin, the trinity crowd,

the theater and
all the rest of it.

I mean, you expect
these young artsy-craftsies

to be sitting at the feet of a
farmer's wife from Ballyknock?

It's bloody foolishness! I mean,
just who the hell do you think you are?

(MEN ARGUING)

(ARGUING SOFTLY)

Enough!

Yeah, listen.

Get me what you can on
the owner of a Whatnot shop.

Yeah, in Ballyknock, by
the name of Jack Conroy.

MAN: I'll get right on it.

(LAUGHING LOUDLY) JOYCE: Sean!

You've got a hammerlock
on the poor woman.

Show more respect to
our American visitors.

Miss Brown, isn't it?
You're at the castle?

I'm sure he meant no harm.

Superintendent Arthur Joyce.

Look, my concern
shouldn't go unrewarded.

Can I give you a
lift to the castle?

Oh, if it's on your
way. Thank you.

Well, of course I loved
you then, you big lummox.

But you went off to Dublin
and joined the Garda,

and that told me how deeply
your great passion for me ran.

Oh, now, wait a minute, girl.

You upped and married Patrick
O'Bannon like he was the last man on Earth.

That certainly told me
something, didn't it?

Patrick O'Bannon?

All right. All
right. I admit it.

I let something lovely
slip through me fingers.

And that's the truth of it.

Well, 'tis true that in those days I had
the face and the body and the brains.

No wonder you fell for me.

Like a ton of bricks.

But you know something, as far as I'm
concerned, you're still the same woman.

Oh, shush, lad.

(SIGHING)

Age has its compensations then.

Mmm-hmm.

But tell me, what am I
going to do about Ian?

He has me driven half-crazy.

Yes, I... Oh, no. Wait a minute,
you tell me something first.

What about this
John Sullivan fellow?

(LAUGHING)

Sure, John's been
down here fishing around.

I've said no to him three times.

Oh. Well, congratulations.
You know how I feel about that.

Down here a lot, has he?

Mmm-hmm.

This last year?

What's that beady-eyed look for?

Beady-eyed, me? Aw, nothing.

I was just thinking.
It's nothing.

Well, you always did
too much thinking, love.

(MACHINERY RATTLING)

Ian!

May I have a word with you?

I'm here, aren't I?

Mr. Nader's solicitor went into the
village records office this morning,

only to find the papers he had
filed yesterday were missing.

The lock to the office
door had been broken.

So why are you telling me this?

Well, it's going to take Mr. Nader
three more weeks to file new papers.

If you're thinking Ian had something
to do with it, Superintendent,

we were together
last night, all night.

Well, then. There's
nothing else to discuss.

You're a blithering idiot, you.

And you should be
ashamed of yourself.

What the hell did you lie for?

As if you didn't know.

Look, I didn't take the papers.

I'd give anything
to know who it was.

EILEEN: So I carried Ian's
words with me into sleep.

Well, am I sacrificing his dream
for just a silly one of my own?

Maybe it is my foolishness.

Well, you won't know
until you get there.

A fine Georgian townhouse
off St. Stephen's Green

with one of those
lovely bright red doors.

Oh, there's an alternative now.

Rory wants to marry.
What do you think?

Well, I love you both too
much to express an opinion.

What? He's energetic.
He's handsome.

I'd have companionship
in my old age.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Who is that?

Oh, that's Mary O'Hara.

Oh. Of course, the chatelaine
of the castle in Cromwell's time.

His soldiers were
hanging her people.

Didn't she seduce one
of the English captains?

Mmm-hmm, yes, and
skewered him in his sleep.

(CHUCKLING)

Then, she hid all the treasure that
Cromwell had robbed from the monasteries.

You know, her ghost haunts the
garden here on Midsummer's Eve.

I saw her once.

Come on, Eileen.

I saw something the other night.

Now, someone is up
to a very crude joke

or maybe something
more serious than that.

If you mean that they're trying to
drive me out of Ballyknock castle,

well, they don't
need a ghost to do it.

What's really
bothering you, Jess?

Nan Conroy's dreadful death.

You know, her father
believes she was murdered.

(SCOFFS) Jack Conroy's only
looking for a scapegoat for his own guilt.

Yes, but what was Nan Conroy
doing in that dungeon in the first place?

But the child was following
one of her fantasies.

The Cromwellian treasure that
Mary O'Hara hid for the future of Erin.

JESSICA: This Ballyknock pattern

is a great hit back in
Cabot Cove, Mr. Conroy.

In fact, I need to order six
dinner plates for a friend.

It'll take a day or
two. Oh, that'll be fine.

My goodness.

Nan was becoming quite proficient
with her watercolors, wasn't she?

That's Mary O'Hara's grave
at the old cemetery, isn't it?

I believe so.

I was rather worried

by something you said to
Moira yesterday after the funeral.

You said that Nan's
death was not an accident,

that she was murdered.

Indeed. (DOOR OPENS)

It'll be just a moment, Miss
Brown. I have your order wrapped.

Oh, no hurry. I'll look around.

JACK: (SOFTLY) Mrs. Fletcher,

whatever I said
yesterday was out of grief.

I'd appreciate your
forgetting the whole occasion.

I'd very much like to buy
that watercolor, if it's for sale.

It's not. For sale, that is.

Nan would want you to
have it. Consider it a gift.

Oh, thank you.
Thank you very much.

I'll have it wrapped when
you come back for your pottery.

Fine.

Afternoon, Zuleika.

(IRISH FOLK MUSIC PLAYING)

These kids met here last
summer, formed their own band

and tomorrow they're off to the
States with their music and dancing.

Well, you've nurtured
and launched them all.

You deserve to be
as proud as you look.

Has anyone seen Ian?

So next spring, I'll qualify
for the sergeant's exam.

It'll mean a nice raise.

Enough to think
about settling down.

(CLEARS THROAT)

You ought to know, we'll be needing
a doctor in Ballyknock before long.

You remember the old
fellow over there, don't you?

DEIRDRE: Sure.
That's Dr. Mulcahy.

He delivered you, me and
half the population of the county.

Well, you'll enjoy this one.

Last week, Mulcahy
performed an appendectomy

on a patient who
was in for adenoids.

Matthew, do me a favor
and stop what you're doing.

I don't know what you mean, Dee.

I haven't given a thought to what
my life will be after I finish my training,

if I finish it.

But raising a family, even with
someone of your outstanding qualifications

is certainly not at
the top of my list.

Well, no thanks
for your sarcasm,

but that wasn't
my meaning at all.

Furthermore, you can take
your frowns and your ill humor

and you know what you
can bloody well do with them.

Oh, for heaven's
sake, Matthew, I didn't...

You've forgotten
who you are, you.

You used to be fun.

I promise I won't be
bothering you again.

(SIGHS)

(INAUDIBLE)

Hello?

(VINCENT WHISTLING)

All right, let's
get this over with.

JOYCE: Mrs. Nader,
I'm simply asking,

why it is your husband
spent last night alone.

You're under no obligation to
answer these questions, Andrea.

Here you go, sir.

It's all right, Paul.

I wasn't feeling very well,
so I stayed in our room.

Vincent felt it was his
obligation to go to the party.

Are you aware that your husband
was preparing to sue you for divorce?

No, she was not aware.

Well, this appears to
be a letter to that effect,

addressed to a
law firm in Boston,

mentioning a Peter Franklin.

You happen to know where he is?

I'm here, Superintendent.

Ah, Mr. Franklin.

For now I'll ask you
not to leave the vicinity.

That's it for now. Thank
you all for your cooperation.

Tell me, Superintendent,
is your focus

exclusively on the
guests here at the castle?

Robbery-homicide, Mrs. Fletcher?

True, Mr. Nader's wallet, money and
a very expensive watch are missing,

but we keep all our options
open, don't we, Inspector?

There's a possibility the apparent
robbery might be to throw us off the track.

And the phone call
that Mr. Nader took...

Came from a public phone a
short distance down the road.

If the murder was premeditated,

I don't expect
to find any prints.

Good day, Mrs. Fletcher,
thank you for your help.

Mrs. O'Bannon. Inspector.

Good day to you.

Keeping our nose
clean, are we, Leonard?

Oh, yes, sir.

RORY: Oh, wouldn't you
know it, Jess, me dear,

me first proper
holiday in three years,

and I have to run into
something like this.

Well, I have to tell you,
despite your grumbling,

I don't think you're
on a holiday at all.

What kind of a remark is that?

Well, all those mysterious
phone calls you've been getting,

and since when do you carry
a service revolver on holiday?

You're incorrigible, you
know that, don't you?

All right. But not one word
of what I'm gonna tell you.

You understand that?

Last year, the department put in some
new precautions against money-laundering.

These huge sums of money
were passing through Dublin banks

into a numbered
account in Geneva.

Well, some of the
newly-issued notes

had serial numbers that were
first circulated in Ballyknock.

Well, now that's
very interesting, Rory.

Because the more I hear about Nan Conroy's
fixation on the Cromwell treasure...

Treasure's a myth, Jess.

The more convinced I am that Nan
was murdered, and your laundering case...

Whatever you do, stay out
of the laundering case, Jess.

There's somebody
out there ready to talk.

I've got a feeling. What...

What's this about
a murder, anyway?

Well, look at the
logic of it, Rory.

No one but her killer knew
that she was actually dead

until her father found
her in the dungeon.

Oh, I get your point.

Her so-called ghost
appeared before that.

Suppose the purpose of the ghost

was to discourage people from
going near the old wing of the castle.

Jess, if you're back on
that Cromwellian treasure,

it's been talked about
for three centuries,

and nobody's found
it yet. Come on.

The policemen are gone.

Aye. So run up a flag.

Hand me that
spanner there, will you?

Ian, if I asked you a question,
do you promise not to be angry?

If it's about Mr. Nader and his
unfortunate demise, I'm happy as a clam.

Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Perhaps we can all get
on with our lives now.

Be serious.

I am serious.

You see, somebody
did us a big, big favor.

Now I've got to get to the Cork
banks so we can refinance this farm.

Where were you when
Mr. Nader was killed?

I was here. The thresher
threw a bearing, and I was...

No, listen. Listen. Just
suppose that isn't true.

That'd mean you'd need
someone to say it was.

So what're you saying?
You don't believe me?

No, I don't.

That's great. You just stay
out of it, Moira, all right?

Anyway, how could you
provide me with an alibi

if at the time you were
sitting in the great hall

with Mrs. Fletcher
and my mother?

Oh, I hadn't thought. You're
right. I'd be no alibi at all.

How did you know that?

That I was in the great hall with
Mrs. Fletcher and your mother

when you said you were
here mending your thresher?

I tell you what then, you go to the
Superintendent with your suspicions, Moira.

You do that.

I can't be too long
away from the station.

Have you found your
man yet, Superintendent?

How do you know it's
not a woman, Miss Brown?

Hmm. Men do the
killing, we do the loving.

Who's your culprit?

You'll know soon enough.

Andrea, please. Would
you do something?

I'll get in touch
with an attorney.

Yeah. And find that guy
in Dublin who set me up.

POLICEMAN: Come along.

We have two witnesses that
placed Mr. Franklin in the garden area

moments before
Mr. Nader was killed.

Oh.

Mr. Nader's watch and wallet were
found hidden in his bedroll upstairs.

Seems he has quite
a penchant for wallets.

He admits to stealing yours in order
to get himself a ticket into the castle.

What did he mean in
Dublin he was set up?

Oh, it was just a
cock-and-bull story, Inspector.

Something about running into a
stranger in a bar on Grafton Street.

If you'll excuse me.

Excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher,
may I see that for a moment?

Of course. Thank you.

Oh, no. Well, you...

Oh, you almost had me
fooled. I thought it was genuine.

Well, it certainly
seems very old.

Yes, well, Eileen will tell you

that I personally cataloged every
piece from the Cromwell period.

I assure you it's a fake,
not a very good one.

Oh.

He's lying, Mrs. Fletcher.

You put this in my bag.

Nan's father found it in her stuff at
the shop and wanted me to have it.

Somebody got into
my things last night.

I had it under my pillow.

Where did it come from?

Nan told me about it
before she disappeared.

She said it came from
the Cromwell treasure.

I didn't believe her
then, but I do now.

And so should you.

Nan was acting all
balmy and saying stuff like,

"Tonight's the night,
girl, all or nothing."

She said she'd found
the Cromwell treasure.

Someone was after her, and
she might never see me again.

Who was after her?

Mr. Buttons was good to her.

It was Dirty Digits
she was afraid of.

Dirty Digits?

Were these people
from the village?

No one I ever saw.

You never knew with Nan.

She was bright as a shilling,

but still, you know, she had
a screw loose someplace.

Nan meant this for you.

Keep it in a safe place.

(DOOR OPENS)

Jack, last night at
the pub, I apologize.

Wrong time and place, I
don't know what I was thinking.

Accepted, Dr. Sullivan.

If you're not here to buy,
you can see I'm busy.

Perhaps she told you.

Nan and I became quite
good chums before she...

Nan was nobody's good chum.

SULLIVAN: Oh, but we shared an
interest in objects of historical value.

Particularly I loved
her fanciful stories.

And what stories would
you be talking about?

Well, there's this one
little poem she wrote

that had to do with Cromwell's
stay at Ballyknock in 1650.

If it's about the treasure...

Yes. It is about the treasure.

You see, scores of authentic
relics from the old monasteries

have been suddenly turning
up in auctions up north,

selling for thousands of pounds.

You're talking rubbish.

Nan must've stumbled
upon their hiding place.

Now someone's taking them out.

She said she never spoke to
anyone about her little poem,

except for one person.

I think that person was you.

Stop your blather
and get out of here.

But, Jack...

Don't be calling me Jack,
you mealy-mouth leech!

Get out! Don't you
ever come in here again.

(SIREN WAILING)

Just calm down, Mr. Conroy.

He's harassing me
unmercifully and I want it stopped

or I'll not be held responsible
for the consequences.

PETER: Look, I was supposed to
be in the castle garden at 8:00 sharp.

A guy was supposed to
come and have a package

and I was supposed to bring it
back to Dublin and get five grand for it.

No mention of what
was in the package?

No.

Nothing like Irish relics?

And you never saw this
man in Ballyknock I take it.

No. If I did, I'd recognize him.

You do believe me, don't you?

As it so happens, I do.

But, you know, there are
better ways of making friends

than to steal a lady's wallet
and another man's wife.

Good luck to you, boy-o.

Jessica, glad I caught you.

It's goodbye. I'm
leaving this evening.

Oh. Well, all the
best to you, Zuleika.

I just want to say that I'm sorry
for my rudeness the other night.

I have to face it.

My problems begin and
end with a bottle of Scotch.

Thank you, Zuleika.
And best of luck to you.

Mrs. Fletcher,
call for you, ma'am.

Oh, thank you, Leonard.

Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.

FISK: Jessica, I
got your message

and ran the name you
asked about, Zuleika Brown?

The case was page
one for several weeks.

Zuleika did three years for
her part in a confidence scam.

Scamming the gullible
rich in phony séances

and visitations with
deceased loved ones...

In which she frequently
played the role of a ghost.

I remember the case now.

Jon, I owe you one.

Hello, Superintendent,
is Rory there?

Oh, you just missed
him, Mrs. Fletcher.

Inspector Lanahan left at 3:00,
just about three minutes ago.

Well, thank you, Superintendent.

Oh, Jess, don't forget, we're going
to the cinema with Rory this evening.

Eileen, where's Zuleika?

Headed upstairs, I think.

Ah.

(WOMAN CRYING)

Zuleika? Is that you?

Zuleika, or whoever you are,
this has gone beyond a joke.

Hey!

Hey! Open this door!

(RATS SQUEAKING)

(WATER DRIPPING)

Hello, dear. Have you seen
Jess? I need to talk to her.

I have not.

But she and I made plans for
this evening that include you.

Oh.

Jessica must've
changed her mind.

What do you mean
"changed her mind"?

Well, she took a cab to
Cork an hour and a half ago.

In fact, she should be
in Dublin very shortly.

Well, why the devil
would she go to Dublin?

It sounded like she had a
meeting there tomorrow morning.

She took a call
here in the hall.

If you don't mind me saying,
it sounded quite urgent.

(CAR HONKING)

Your cab's here, ma'am.

Goodbye, Zuleika. Bon voyage.

Bye.

Isn't that just like Jessica?

(RATS SQUEAKING)

EILEEN: When Jack
Conroy found Nan's body,

the rats had eaten
the flesh off her bones.