Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 2, Episode 10 - Sticks and Stones - full transcript

This has got accident
written all over it.

[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.

- It was no accident.
- Rough way to start out.

It's hard to feel confident knowing a
real estate salesman is your new sheriff.

What has she got that I don't?

Stay away from my husband! God knows
Charlie's not much, but he's all I've got!

I've got the killer behind bars. Just
have to figure out which one it is.

I'm beginning to feel
awfully squeamish.

[Door Opens]

[Man On TV] No, cara mia. If I cannot
have you, no man will ever possess you.

[Woman On TV] Raoul, please.
You know he means nothing to me.



[Raoul] But you married him, bellissima,
nine years ago. You have four children.

[Woman] I didn't
know what I was doing.

Please, Raoul, I want to live.

Mmm. I want to be with you.

I want to run away to the
farthest reaches of the world.

[Raoul] Oh, yes.

Now you submit, mi' amore!
Now, when it is too late!

He will always be
there haunting our lives.

[Woman] It doesn't
have to be that way.

[Raoul] No. What
do you know of life?

You are such a child. Why do you
reject me, my little angel of God?

[Sighs]

Fifty bucks, and Larry
can't even fix the damn TV.

[Water Splashing]



[Chattering]

Rough way to start out as new
sheriff, Harry. [Ambulance Doors Slam]

Well, I'm not sheriff yet, Amos—
Not till tomorrow. [Chuckles]

Guess it's too late to change
my mind, huh? [Engine Starts]

You do what you want. Tonight I take this
uniform off for good. [Ambulance Departs]

Got places to go,
things to do. [Chuckles]

Hmm. Frayed.

You'd think Beverly would
know better. And all wet like that.

I noticed that frayed cord a month
ago, when I came to appraise the place.

Told her to get it fixed. Yeah.
Too bad she didn't get around to it.

Was she plannin' on sellin' the place? Oh,
she was always sellin' it. Uh, never did.

Wasted a lot of my
time, I can tell you. Mmm.

I guess I shouldn't
speak ill of the dead.

Well, one thing's for sure. This
has got accident written all over it.

Frayed cord, bathroom door
locked from the inside— [Chuckles]

Even Mrs. Fletcher couldn't make
a murder out of this one. [Chuckling]

[Woman] You'd think she'd
have more sense, watching

TV in the tub, but that
was Beverly for you.

I'm surprised she didn't—
How's it going, Seth?

Can't you throttle back
that damn busybody,

Jess? I can hear her
all the way over here.

[Laughs] Did you hear what I said, Jessica?
Say, is there somebody in there with you?

Yeah, it's Doc
Hazlitt, Edna. Oh?

He's just fixing my
toaster or trying to.

I probably should've taken
it down to Larry Burns.

Didn't know I was
restoring an antique.

[Doorbell Rings] Oops! Doorbell. Sorry.
I'll have to call you back, Edna. Bye.

Ought to talk to that woman about
donating her vocal cords to science.

[Groans]

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher. This
is a distinct pleasure.

I'm so pleased to meet
you at last. Michael Digby.

Oh, magnificent.

It's just the way I imagined
it. Oh, where do I put this?

Uh, excuse me. Uh,
Mr. Digby, is it? Do I know you?

Michael Digby. Great
Little Places to Live?

Well, surely our mutual
publisher called you.

Oh, good Lord, he didn't?

I am so sorry, but I haven't got the
vaguest idea what you're talking about.

I should've known. The man's a
total incompetent. But you'd know that.

Oh, yes! Yes.

This humble abode
reeks of yesteryear.

It's like a set from
Ah, Wilderness,

- right down to the village repairman.
- Who the hell is this?

Oh, dear. The travel writer.

A mundane appellation,
Mrs. Fletcher, but accurate.

Then Mr. Wintergreen
did notify you I'd be coming.

Well, he casually mentioned
the possibility several months ago.

Good. I wouldn't want to
burst in uninvited. [Scoffs]

I must say I fell in
love with this town the

moment I drove through.
It has real potential.

Well, Jessica,

you've obviously
got your hands full.

- I suppose you're from
the, uh, big city, young fellow, huh?
- Why, yes.

Kind of thought so.

Now, that's what I call
a crusty New Englander.

Uh, Michael, about this series
of books that you're writing...

All dealing with undiscovered
pockets of Americana, rich in heritage.

Yes, well, uh— I hope
this won't sound vain,

but I'm gonna put
Cabot Cove on the map.

If I'm not mistaken,
it already is.

Well, I-I mean everybody's map. The
last place I covered just really bloomed...

A new golf course,
artist condos, a marina.

But what happened to
the heart of the town?

Well, they turned it
into a shopping mall.

Oh, don't tell me.

It's your grandmother's
pickle crock, right?

Actually, I bought it yesterday.

Howdy, Mrs. Fletcher.

Amos, you've got a new car.

New for me. Bought it from
Fred Tompkins over at Rockwater.

You know, it's gonna take me a while to
get used to seeing you in civilian clothes.

Man can only take so
much pressure, Mrs. Fletcher.

I worry about Harry Pierce.

It's hard to feel confident knowing a
real estate salesman is your new sheriff.

Matter of time and experience.

You recall, I didn't know
much when I took over.

Well, I'm goin'
fishin'. Be seein' ya.

There's our historical
society over there.

Cabot Cove goes back
a long way, you know.

Good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.
Warming up today? Looks like it.

Oh, yes, I know. First
settled in, uh, 1684.

Most of the town was wiped
out by the storm of '36, 1836.

And a minor skirmish with the
British— The Battle of Cabot Cove, 1778.

It's a dynamite town you've got
here, Mrs. Fletcher. It's so peaceful!

It's quintessential New England.

Mabel Bemish? Mabel Bemish,
you've got one hell of a nerve!

Don’t you ever come trying
to borrow sugar from us again!

You think I'd set foot on your
property after reading this?

That dog of yours starts
barkin' tonight again...

[Stammering] I'm
gonna call the sheriff!

My dog'll bark any
damn time he feels like it!

We'll just see
about that! A-yah.

- Henrietta!
- Winthrop! Winthrop, get out here!

Wake up. Winthrop,
come on out. Wake up.

Henrietta, look it here.
[Woman] Doggone it.

It's idyllic. [Laughs]

What is this open area? It
was old Coast Guard property.

You know, it had a
really fine wooden

lighthouse here, until it
burned down last year.

It's a magnificent
place to build.

They think so too— Our
planning commissioners.

They voted to allow
the new owners to put up

400 condominiums. The
Condo Three, we call them.

You mean, this isn't Coast Guard
land anymore? Oh, it never was.

Before World War II,
Wendell Gareth gave it

to the Coast Guard
with a perpetual lease.

He died a few years back,
and then after the fire last year,

the property reverted to his
daughter, Beverly. Oh, Beverly Gareth?

The woman that had that terrible
accident I heard about. Yes.

I guess you weren't too
pleased about her selling.

[Jessica] It was her land and
her business. [Tires Squealing]

Last year, we managed
to thwart a high-rise hotel,

but I shudder to think what
they have wrought this time.

Good morning, Edna.

I'll warn you once, Jessica
Fletcher. Stay away from my husband!

God knows Charlie's not
much, but he's all I've got!

Edna!

For heaven's sake, what
are you talking about?

[Sighs]

[Dog Barking In Distance]

How's it going, Mel? Fair to
middlin', Amos. How 'bout you?

Oh, never better. This
is the life. Pure heaven.

Try not to strain yourself. Mmm.

What we got here?

[Muttering] "Sheriff Tupper—
Something you should know."

Well, I'll be damned.

Harry.

Harry, take a look at this.

"To Sheriff Amos Tupper."

Don't they know you're retired?

Probably some kind
of crank letter, huh?

Crank letter. You
can say that again.

Just toss it on the pile.

What the devil is goin' on here?

[Man] This letter leaves me no choice
but to audit your books, Mr. Andersen.

You I.R.S. snoops ought to spend more
time on those crooks in Washington...

and leave hardworking,
honest folks alone.

Give me that.

This pack of lies
ain't even signed!

Most of our informants
are anonymous.

You mean you're gonna take the word of
a lousy anonymous letter instead of mine?

Mr. Andersen, brutality
is not the answer.

You are threatening the
United States government.

I'm gonna bust the butt of
the United States government...

if it isn't off this wharf
in the next 10 seconds!

Morning, Larry. Ah,
morning, Mrs. Fletcher.

Hey, did you ever see Nils so het up?
I swear this whole town's goin' crazy.

Well, something's
crazy. All those letters.

What was yours about?
Oh, I'm afraid I didn't get one.

Me either. We may be the only
ones in town that didn't. Yeah.

It's some crackpot's idea of
fun. Not again, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, Doc Hazlitt had a crack at
putting it all back together, and— [Laughs]

It sure is old, Mrs. Fletcher. Yeah, but
it's got a lot of sentimental value, Larry.

Larry Burns! Oh, no. He's drunk.

I'm gonna kill you, Burns. Adam!

You killed my Beverly,
and now I'm gonna kill you.

Adam, stop that!

Just stay out of this, Mrs.
Fletcher. She's dead because of him!

Get up! I don't know
what you're talkin' about.

Oh, you don't, huh? You
were supposed to fix her TV set.

She'd be alive today if
you’d replaced that cord.

I did fix it. Last week.
What the hell you say?

Look it, I fixed the picture tube. There
wasn't anything wrong with the cord.

Get up.

Hey! Take it easy. Fightin'
won't bring her back.

Come on, Nils. I'm gonna kill
him! You're not killin' anybody.

Oh, yes, I am. [Screams] I
think you need a cooling-off.

[Screaming] Oh, no!
No, no, no, no, no!

[Crowd Shouting]

You know, Nils, he might
have gotten one of those letters.

Letters. Whole town's
goin' crazy, Jessie.

Come on. Come on.
Let's get you down to the

sheriff's and sober you
up before you hurt yourself.

Come on!

Madam, you have been
spying on me! Outrageous!

How dare you accuse me.
I have done no such thing!

Just my luck. A gestapo
spy for a landlady!

I do not have to
submit to your insults. I

will have you off my
property, Mr. Hoffman.

You forget my lease!

And you, sir, forget
your manners.

I'm taking this
up with the sheriff.

[Larry] Bev and me would've been
happy together. [Seth] Mm-hmm.

Even paid off my boat. At
least she said she was going to.

There. That ought to take care of
that. It's not serious anyway. Thanks.

Here's a beauty. "To
Ernestine Baddeley.

"Ernestine, thought
you ought to know, your

husband Orville's been
meetin' the librarian...

"behind the stacks
for the past six months,

and he hasn't been punchin' just
her library card. Signed, A friend."

- [Grunts] Some friend, huh?
- Yeah.

A dam, this isn't any hotel.

- Get yourself back there
in a cell and sleep it off.
- Oh, come on, Sheriff.

I feel much better.
Don't put me back there.

Get back there, Adam!

He threatened me, Sheriff. I
thought I was about to be murdered.

Hold on now, Elvira.
Who threatened ya?

Oh, that hairy foreigner
I rent my downstairs to.

He accused me of— Got
some more letters here, Sheriff.

Oh. Jethro Simpson
got three of 'em.

Oh, thanks. Thanks.

Letters? Yeah.
Anonymous letters.

The whole town's been flooded with
'em the past couple of days. [Gasps]

Well, Ellie,
what—what's the matter?

So many. But that's
not right. I only sent one.

Wait a minute. Let
me get this straight.

You sent an anonymous letter?

Who to?

I can't say. I
promised a friend.

What'd the letter say?

I don't know. Please,
I—I think I've said enough.

I don't want my name
dragged all over town.

There's something wrong here...

Something terribly wrong.

And Amos Tupper told me
nothing ever happens in this town.

[Knocking]

Afternoon, Mrs. Fletcher.
Amos, come on in.

Hey, isn't that a new jacket
you're wearing? Yes, ma'am.

Bought it at Fenway Park
on Tuesday. [Chuckles]

Sure was a fun game. You should be there.
Oh, well. I've had so many things to do.

Mmm. Was I interrupting
something— I mean,

what you're doing
there with the TV and all?

Oh, no. I was just trying
to figure out how you'd

murder someone in a locked
bathroom with a frayed cord.

[Clicks Tongue] Oh.
Oh, Beverly Gareth!

Oh, now just a minute.
That was an accident.

I mean, it had to
be, Mrs. Fletcher.

Like you said, the bathroom door
was locked from the inside. I know.

Except Larry
Burns fixed her set,

and he swears that
the cord was all right.

Ma'am, I saw that cord.
It was pretty beat-up.

I mean, the copper wiring
was showing through.

[Chuckles] No, Amos. Somebody
must've tampered with that cord.

But why? Well, possibly to commit a
murder that looked like an accident.

You know, a locked
door, a bathroom mishap.

[Laughs] Here I am, carrying
on as if you were still the sheriff.

[Phone Rings]

Hello? Yes, Harry?

Oh, I'll be right over.

Right.

[Chuckles] Sounds to me as if,
uh, Harry's having second thoughts...

about being the sheriff. Mmm.

I don't suppose you'd like to have your
old badge back, Amos. Oh, no, sirree.

No, my peacekeepin' days
are behind me. [Laughs]

Of course, there's nothing
to say I couldn't help out,

especially for an old
friend like Harry, huh?

Huh? [Laughs] [Chuckles]

This is the damnedest
thing I ever saw.

It's as if the town were suddenly
hit by a plague of locusts.

[Laughs] Well, I certainly hope it
doesn't happen every seven years, Harry.

Amos, I've got a good mind
to hand back this badge.

Harry, I'm retired,
and that's it.

I'm just helpin'
out. That's all.

Hey, here's one says...

Larry Burns was havin' an
affair with Beverly Gareth.

[Chuckles] No way we're
gonna know for sure about that.

And they are all different...

Some printed, some using
cutout letters from newspapers...

White pages, yellow, blue.

[Sighs] Harry, what about the
envelopes and the postmarks?

Darn! Uh, I'm afraid I
blew it there, Mrs. Fletcher.

I, uh, threw 'em
away without thinkin'.

But it doesn't matter. They
were all postmarked Cabot Cove.

Hey, listen to this one.

"Dear Mayor, Thought
you ought to know...

"Willis Carmody trashed
your new station wagon...

- at last year's Labor Day picnic."
- Oh, but that can't be.

Now, Amos, you remember this
time last year, Willis was right here.

That's right, locked
up in that cell,

waitin' for a U.S.
marshal to cart him off to

Portland for missing
some alimony payments.

Well, that clenches it.
There's a crackpot loose!

These letters are
out-and-out lies.

Yeah, and-and
here's the one I got.

"Dear Sheriff Tupper, The old Coast
Guard house was deliberately torched.

Ask yourself who
had the most to gain."

Beverly Gareth got a very
handsome price for the land.

Yeah, but she had
an ironclad alibi for the

time of that fire. I
remember checkin' it out.

Yeah, but what about those
developers who bought the land?

Or maybe those three vultures
on the zoning commission.

I mean, if there were
some kind of payoff.

Sure you don't want
this badge back, Amos?

[Dog Barking In Distance]

This is a great
dinner, Mrs. Fletcher.

I bet this recipe came
over on the Mayflower.

Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, I'm so sorry, Michael.
I'm a terrible hostess.

Well, what's bothering
you? Maybe I can help.

I'm just thinking about
what's happening to this town.

Oh, you mean my book. I know
you don't think much of it. Oh, no. No.

I was referring to certain
unpleasant undercurrents,

not to mention
electrical currents.

How about taking
a walk after dinner?

There's someone
I need to talk to.

Doc Hazlitt told me that
Elvira said something

very odd in the
sheriff's office today...

about these letters
that we've been getting.

Of course, Elvira was Beverly's
father's personal secretary.

This is it. She lives upstairs.

Well, I don't care about those
letters. I'd call this a peaceful place.

In New York, we'd be looking down every
alley and behind every sign for muggers.

Elvira.

Oh, dear.

Michael, the
sheriff's on his way.

Uh, marvelous. I'm beginning
to feel awfully squeamish.

"I wrote the letters because
you all turned against me.

Good-bye. You can
gossip all you like now."

[Creaking]

Oh, my God. She's dead.

I'm afraid so.

Mrs. Fletcher, what happened?

Is it my imagination, or have you
changed nationalities, Mr. Hoffman?

You've misplaced your
German accent. It sells pictures.

Oh, that crazy old lady. What
did she have to do that for?

That's a good question, if,
in fact, she did kill herself.

I have a question of my own
though. What are you doing here?

Well, I came here
to have it out with her.

No, no, no. I don't mean that.

Look, she was driving me crazy. She
was always hanging around up here.

She never did anything.
She never went anywhere.

She even had her groceries delivered,
like she was an invalid or something.

She used to be so active—
Volunteer at the hospital and library.

[Car Approaches]

Uh, look, I think I'll
just buzz out the back.

Oh, oh, but the sheriff
may have some questions.

What for? I didn't have
anything to do with this.

[Chattering On Police Radio]

Cut her down. Can't leave her swinging
in the wind like that. Harry, wait.

Maybe you should let Doc
Hazlitt take a look at the body first.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Uh, get Doc
Hazlitt here right away, Willard.

[Sighs] I'm beginning
to hate this job.

[Seth] A-yah? Mm-hmm.

All right, Henry. Thank you.

See ya soon.

Well, Jess, you were right.

Elvira's pills were Butazolidin,

- and Doc Baxendale said
she had arthritis real bad.
- I guessed as much.

The cheap, lightweight cookware
she obviously used for everyday...

Why, when she had
nearly new cast-iron pans?

I think it was because
she couldn't lift them.

And why did she have her groceries
delivered instead of going out herself?

And why wasn't there one piece of
handwritten material in the apartment?

Makes you wonder,
Seth. About what?

Whether Elvira was capable
of tying a hangman's knot.

There's another thing
that's been bothering me.

Why go all the way to Newberry
to see Henry Baxendale,

when you've got a perfectly good
doctor right here in Cabot Cove?

Mrs. Fletcher. Oh, Mr. Knapp.

Good morning, Mr. Nelson, Mrs.
Norris. [Mrs. Norris] Good morning.

Shame about those letters
circulating town, causing trouble,

settin' neighbor
against neighbor. Yes.

Speaking of causing trouble, I understand
you've been asking some sharp questions...

about those condos being planned
for the old Coast Guard property.

I am curious, yes.

Beverly Gareth's death
seems to have triggered

off some strange
incidents in this town.

- And what has one got to do
with the other?
- I'm not sure yet.

You're not implying Mrs. Gareth's
death was other than accidental?

I'm not implying anything, Mr. Nelson,
but I think there is a possibility.

Most distressing, Mrs. Fletcher.

What is also
distressing, Mr. Knapp,

is the thought of 400 condominiums
popping up like toadstools...

on that beautiful
headland south of town.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

I'm sure sorry, Jessica.

I didn't have any
cause to fly off like that.

Once I got to thinking about
it, I figured that letter was a lie.

[Laughs] Well, I
am glad to hear that.

My Charlie's made it
clear too many times.

He doesn't care about
anything except fishin' or bowlin'.

Just as well.

When we were first married, that
man was like an animal. [Laughs]

But then, oh, about
10 years ago...

[Clicks Tongue] his
battery went dead.

[Laughs] Been pretty
peaceful ever since.

Edna, I wanted to
ask you about Elvira.

Now, Jessica, you know I'm
not much for talkin' about others.

Well, at least she's out of
pain— Her arthritis and all.

Oh, it was fierce.

But, you know, I'm surprised
you know about that, Jessica.

Elvira kept that
pretty much to herself.

- Oh, why was that?
- Her daughter in Portland.

Afraid she'd send
her to a nursing home.

That's why she didn't
go to Doc Hazlitt,

why she took the bus to Newberry
for her treatments and her prescription.

Well, of course, that
is a logical explanation.

Edna, how long did Elvira
work for Beverly Gareth?

Never did. Worked for
her father, old Wendell.

But Elvira and Beverly
were very close.

I mean, they were like
mother and daughter.

Beverly must've
trusted Elvira implicitly.

Oh, my, yes. With her life!

Yeah, or with a letter.

[Chattering On Police Radio]

Afternoon, Harry—
I mean, uh, Sheriff.

- Larry Burns, I'm placing you
under arrest on suspicion of murder.
- What?

- You're crazy, Pierce.
- Whose murder?

Jessica Fletcher seems to
think that Elvira Tree was killed,

and there's plenty
of solid evidence too.

You're lettin' this
job go to your head.

You were seen leavin' her place yesterday,
and you were yellin' at one another.

Oh, Harry, she yells at everybody.
She didn't like the way I fixed her lamp.

Harry, for Pete's sake.

Larry, come along with me.
Don't give me any trouble.

Seth, that's absurd—
Arresting Larry Burns.

He never hurt anyone.

Well, look, I'm gonna have to call
you back. I want to think about this.

Here. Say, take a look at these
great shots I got of the harbor.

A trawler outlined
by the setting sun.

Look here. Lusty men of
the sea tending their nets.

Uh, they're very nice, Michael.

Michael, how would you like to
help me with a little detective work?

Me, a detective? Yeah.

It's nearly dark, and the Condo
Three usually gather about now...

- at Bart Nelson's restaurant.
- Well, what can I do? Name it.

Well, a couple of
things. Since the fire last

year, a lot of people
have been getting rich,

and after what's happened
to Beverly and Elvira,

I'm convinced that
it was no accident.

Now, I want you to go
over to the restaurant...

and engage them in conversation
and see what you can pick up.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm a
professional reporter. I'm a real

bulldog. If there's
something to learn, I'll learn it.

Well, whatever you do,
don't let those people

leave the restaurant
for at least two hours.

Oh, you're on to something.

Michael, my boy,
I hope you're right.

Once this deal is tidied
up, the capital gains'll kill us,

unless we can get a piece of
that Portland shopping mall.

Count me out. I'm
having cash flow trouble.

[Scoffs] You mean nerve trouble. Buck up,
Bart. You're lettin' this mess get to ya.

Mr. Knapp. Mr. Nelson.
I'm Michael Digby.

I'm a writer from New York, and I'm
interested in the future of Cabot Cove.

- May I join you?
- Uh, this is a private conversation, kid.

You're that writer staying
with Jessica Fletcher.

He sure is. Hello. Hi.

We were about to show Michael
the scenic route to the front door.

What's the matter, George?
Where's your Yankee hospitality?

I hear that writers are
such stimulating people.

Mr. Digby, what
can you do for me?

[Dog Barking In Distance]

[Footsteps Approaching]

[Feet Shuffling]

[Door Opens]

[Light Clicks On]

Amos!

Who's there? Who said that?

It's me, Jessica. I'm
down in the basement.

Is that you, Mrs. Fletcher?
Yes, I'm here. Come on down.

What you doin' here? Well, I
could ask you the same question.

Oh, well, I didn't
have too much to do,

so I just thought I'd look
around, uh, unofficially, of course.

Well, good. Look at this.

Well, that's just
some wood shavings.

The kind made by a hand drill.

And look up there. See that perfect
little hole drilled in the floorboards...

with a perfect view of the
bathtub and the wall plug?

That so?

Amos, there is absolutely no doubt in
my mind that Beverly was murdered,

and I'll prove
it. I don't get it.

Well, look here.

Now, look. Here's
the fuse box. Uh-huh.

Now, the cord was frayed, and
I think it was done deliberately.

The killer waited until
Beverly was in the bathtub,

and then he turned
off the power.

Now, Beverly got out
of the tub dripping wet...

and went to try the on-and-off
button on the TV set. Mm-hmm.

But when that didn't work,
she did what any of us would do.

She checked the plug to be sure
that the connection was secure.

Now, the killer could see her,

and he waited until she had
the plug in her hand, and then...

Well, I'll be. [Clicks Tongue]
That's nice thinkin', ma'am.

[Footsteps Approaching] Shh.

Amos, did you bring
your gun? Turned it in.

[Gasps] Uh-oh. Sounds like
he's coming to the basement door.

[Mouthing Words]

Who is it? Come out here.

[Shatters]

[Amos] A dam Frobisher.

He'll live.

I didn't kill her,
Harry. I told you.

I was just tryin' to find the
ownership papers for the trawler.

There's laws about
breaking and entering, Adam!

And stealing— Even
from dead people.

Now, that boat is
mine! Beverly gave it to

me. Even if you never
find papers in writing!

Let me tell ya— Well,
here ya are, Sheriff.

Caught this guy tryin'
to get out of town.

Well, well. Frederich Hoffman.

We wondered where
you disappeared to.

I have done nothing wrong.
[Harry] Then what did you run for?

He had that van stuffed
with all his belongings.

I don't think he was
comin' back, Sheriff.

There's a law says I have
to live in this lousy town?

There's laws about
fleeing the scene of a crime!

Willard, lock these two
up in the back there with

Larry till I get to the
bottom of this thing.

I want a lawyer. Come on.

I want a lawyer too. Well, you'll
both get lawyers in the morning.

Tonight, you sleep here.

Well, one thing is sure.

Uh, I've got the
killer behind bars.

Now, just have to
figure out which one it is.

Harry, maybe you ought
to call the state police.

Meaning I can't do the job?

Oh, no. I didn't say
that. Oh, zip it up, Harry.

Mrs. Fletcher's just
trying to be helpful.

Yeah, well, Jessica,
if-if—if you think you

can do a better job,
then you're welcome to it!

You too, Amos. I've-I've
had it with this lousy job.

Willard, you're in charge!

You call in whoever you like!

I'm goin' home.

Harry's gonna be
okay in the morning.

I'll tell you one thing.
He's not much of a lawman.

Need any more butter
on that, do you, Amos?

Brain food, Doc, and I got
some serious thinkin' to do.

Larry, Frederich, Adam.

I don't know.

You don't know... which one?

Well, I'm afraid it may
not be any of them.

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking.

You know, I'm beginning to
think that this insanity may all tie in.

Beverly's death, which
we now know is murder,

Elvira's death—also murder...

These letters flooding the town.

I mean, suppose— And
this is just a theory...

Suppose that Beverly felt
that she might be in danger,

warned the killer that a letter
would be mailed by a friend...

in the event that something
happened to her. Elvira Tree.

Except the killer didn't know
that Elvira was the friend.

But he knew that a letter would
be mailed, so what does he do?

He floods the town with
crazy, accusatory letters.

Hiding the real letter
in a batch of phonies.

And all the letters are
different because the killer

doesn't know what the
real letter looked like.

Yeah, that makes sense. Uh-huh.

But the killer has a problem.

He's in danger from the friend
who mailed Beverly's letter.

That person knows
why the letter was mailed.

And in time, she will put two and
two together and go to the authorities.

Now, suppose the letter had been
written and addressed sometime back,

while you were
still sheriff, Amos.

Well, I did get one letter.

Come to think of it, it was
addressed to Sheriff Amos Tupper.

You know, there was something...

Oh, spit it out,
man. Spit it out!

And this kind of
fits in, Mrs. Fletcher.

I remember looking at that postmark and
wondering who would write me from Newberry.

[Laughing] Amos, I
love you. That is it!

Elvira mailed the letter...

while she was visiting
her doctor in Newberry.

[Chuckling] It was your letter
that Beverly wanted mailed.

Yeah, but there is
a problem, ma'am.

The letter I got didn't implicate
any of those fellas in jail.

It had to do with the fire at
the Coast Guard property...

and points a finger
at the Condo Three.

Oh, good heavens. Michael!

♪ [Background]

My feeling about real estate...

is that it's there.

Mmm. Michael,
you are so insightful.

Well, what I mean
is— Is that it's there.

What the hell is the
kid talking about?

Who knows? You
worry too much, Bart.

He doesn't know zilch, and
neither does Mrs. Fletcher.

Excuse me, Mr. Digby.
A call for you.

Oh, yeah?

Excuse me. Uh-huh. [Chuckles]

One more time
around? Oh, sweetie.

It's my pleasure. [Chuckles]

[Chuckles]

- Yeah?
- Michael, are you all right?

Yeah, I'm fine, although
in the last three hours,

I've consumed a fifth of Scotch
and a pound of butter to stay sober.

It's a trick my dad
taught me. [Gasps]

- But have you learned anything?
- Not a whole lot,

although these foreign investors
paid a fortune for that land,

and they made their offer
several years ago before the fire,

so I think your theory
about arson may be right.

But Beverly didn't set it.

And neither did the Condo Three.
They were out of town when it happened.

- Unless they hired someone.
- Yeah, maybe.

There are kickbacks and
payoffs all over the place,

including a huge finder's
fee to a real estate broker.

It may be someone here
in town. You know, Lila

hints around a lot, but
she doesn't say much.

Can I come home now?

- Mrs. Fletcher, you there?
- Oh, yes.

Yes, yes. I'm
still here, Michael.

Uh— No, you can't come home yet.

I want you to go
back to Mrs. Norris...

and let her try to pry
something out of you.

Uh, don't make it too difficult.

Whoops-doo. [Chuckling]

It was Mrs. Fletcher.
Oh, how nice. [Chuckles]

Honey, what motel
are you staying at?

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher's been nice
enough to put me up. Has she?

And what has she
got that I don't have?

Nothing. Really, that is,
she's one very clever lady.

She's got a policeman's
perspective on anything. Hmm.

[Chuckles]

Shh. Don't tell anybody— Mmm.

But she's figured out that somebody
torched the Coast Guard house.

Huh. Bilgewater.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

She told me she's going
to Beverly Gareth's house.

She's got a way to
prove it, she said.

Excuse me.

Powder room. [Chuckles]

Mmm.

It's me, and have I got
bad news for you, buster.

[Footsteps Approaching]

That you, Mrs. Fletcher?

Yes, I'm down here, Harry.

Oh. Just passin' by.

Saw the light comin' from
the basement window.

Thought I ought to take a look.

Funny, I thought
you quit tonight.

[Laughing] Oh, that. Well, I
just lost my temper. That's all.

Ya lookin' for anything special?

Well, I have this theory
about the Coast Guard fire...

and who started it.

I was waiting for
someone to show up.

I thought it might be you.

Well, as I said, I was,
uh, just passing by.

Yeah, I know. That's
what you told me, Harry.

And you were right about one
thing. You weren't much of a lawman.

You also weren't
much of a killer either.

Killer?

[Scoffs] That's crazy.

I wish it were, Harry.

OH, Jessica!

Come on. We— [Sighs]

We've known each
other for years!

I—I sold you your house.

[Laughs] Frank and I
were lodge brothers.

Yeah.

That's what...
makes this so hard.

I mean, that hole in the
floorboard, the frayed cord,

the electrocution that
had to be an accident

because the door was
locked— That was clever, Harry.

But leaving the wood
shavings on the floor

where anyone could find
them—That was sloppy.

And then you flooded the town
with letters to protect yourself, but—

Jessica! You cannot be serious!

You tried to place the blame for
the letters on a woman with arthritis...

A woman who could
barely write her own name.

What was it, Harry? Did you get a large
finder's fee for putting the sale together?

Jessica, there's nothing
illegal about a commission.

There is if you commit
arson to make it happen...

and kill two women
to cover it up.

- You gonna take that into court?
- No.

Amos Tupper will be the one in
court. You slipped, Harry, badly.

Larry Burns repaired
Beverly's TV set last week.

He'll swear there was nothing wrong
with the cord when he returned it.

Okay, so the killer
frayed the cord to make it

look accidental. That
doesn't prove it was me!

No, but if the cord was all right,
why did you say you'd seen it frayed?

- What?
- Amos told me
you'd made a point of it.

I noticed that frayed cord
a month ago when I came

to appraise the place.
Told her to get it fixed.

You never saw the cord
frayed, Harry, because

there was never
anything wrong with it,

not until you doctored it.

Let me tell ya
somethin' about Beverly.

She was stupid and greedy.

I did all the work.

I torched the building.
I found the buyers!

I even greased the way
for the zoning variance!

Oh, she—she paid
me all right, but...

what she didn't tell me was that
she'd recorded our conversations.

[Laughs] She tried to
bleed me out of my cut.

A lot wasn't enough for her.

She wanted it all.

Sorry about Elvira.

I always liked her— [Gun Cocks]

just as I've always liked
you, Jessica, but, uh,

I'm kind of out of control now.

Sorry, Harry.

Speaking of tape recorders.

[Gun Cocks] Just lay it down...

real careful.

You don't know how much
I... wanted to be wrong.

Well, Mrs. Fletcher, I
don't think I'll ever be

able to look at a small
town the same way again.

That means you'll be
going back to the city then?

No, actually I'm headed to
Fall River to visit my aunt. Oh.

I can use the rest. Fall River.

Isn't that where
Lizzie Borden lived?

"Took an ax and gave
her mother 40 whacks."

"And when she saw what she
had done, she gave her father"...

You know, on second thought, I think I will
head back to New York. Seems a bit safer.

[Laughing] Good-bye,
Michael, and thanks for

all your help. It's been
a distinct pleasure.

Michael. Doctor.

Oh, by the way,

you'll find my notes on the Cabot
Cove book out back in the trash.

This is one little town
I'd like to remember

the way it was
when I first got here.