Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 2, Episode 13 - Trial by Error - full transcript

It's a bad day for the jurors when Jessica is the foreperson of the jury hearing the case of a man claiming self-defense in the death of an enraged husband.

[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.

He was in bed with
another man's wife.

This case is not as
simple as it seems.

This is a man's
life we're deciding.

And most of us here are
of a mind to let him keep it.

This jury has just been hung by
this gentleman with the open mind.

I mean, we're 12 reasonably
intelligent people here.

We oughta be able
to sort this thing out.

If it wasn't premeditated, then it had
to be self-defense. There's nothing else.

But there is something else.

- Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
have you reached a verdict?
- We have, Your Honor.



[Police Radio Chatter]

Get— Get through.

Get through.

Watch out. Watch out. Easy.

Careful. Watch it.

Careful, now.

I'm all right. I'm all right. Take care
of her. Take care of her. Don't move.

[Groaning]

Use that wrecker to get
that car out of here now.

I should have made her wear
the seat belt. I should've made her.

She never wanted to
wear her seat belt. She

always felt like she
was gonna be trapped.

Babe, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Oh, she's not— She's
not going to die, is she?



Steph, I'm sorry.

She isn't gonna die, is she?

[Groans] I don't understand...

Why? It was the kid. It
was the kid on the bike.

I swerved to avoid
him. Oh, my God.

It was my fault.

Oh, it should have been
me. It should have been me.

When can I talk to her? Well, we'll
know more about that in the morning.

The paramedic said you
fractured your collarbone.

No, it's all right.
I'm all right.

All right. Well, if you'd
like to be with her...

No. No, I can't— I can't look at
her knowing that I'm the one that...

I understand that. Well, if she
does regain consciousness,

it won't be for,
oh, several hours.

Look, Mr. Reynolds, your wife
has a good chance of surviving,

but, well, I'm afraid she
may never walk again.

There was severe spinal damage.

I'm sorry. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God! Mr. Reynolds!

Oh, wow! Hey, pal,
you been in an accident?

Give me a shot of scotch, will
ya? Are you sure you're all right?

Hey, Jerry, give me
a clean towel, okay?

You look awful. What happened?

He called it—accident.
Anybody else hurt?

Yeah. Someone else was hurt.

It was my...

This little kid was so scared.

I mean, I missed him by—by that.

And he just took off
and never looked back.

If my wife lives, the doctor
said she'll never walk again.

And I did it to her.
No, you can't think that.

Who's that with Becky Anderson?
What'll it be, Mr. Detweiler?

She's a pip, isn't she? Her old
man would be climbin' the walls if...

Look, the guy was in
an automobile accident.

His wife was almost killed.
Now, can I get you somethin'?

Yeah, a beer.

You know, I used to race sports cars.
A-And Stephanie used to come watch me.

I should've been able
to handle that spinout.

Now, you've gotta
stop blamin' yourself.

No, an automobile's
a dangerous thing.

You know, I always
buckled up. She never did.

You wife would be the last person
to blame you for what happened.

Thanks.

Oh, my gosh. Look at the time.

I've got to go. Oh.

Can I drive you back to the hospital?
Oh, no, no. That's the last thing I...

I can't face my wife
until the morning.

Could a friendly neighborhood stranger
offer to make you a cup of coffee?

No, thanks.

Well, as a matter of
fact, I'd be very grateful.

Good night, Becky. Good night.

Thanks.

Ah, well, ain't that somethin'?
What's that, Mr. Detweiler?

Well, if I were to give it a name, I'd
call it the sympathy jump in the making.

I didn't see nothin'.

Open me one more, Jerry,
will ya? I'll be right back.

[Phone Ringing]

- Yeah?
- Yeah, Willie? Johnny Detweiler.

- Cliff still stayin' with you?
- Yeah.

Detweiler.

[Sighs] Hello,
creep. What's new?

What are you talkin' about?

Real good lookin', got-rocks
type. She's takin' him home now.

What'd he call for?
Becky's picked up some guy.

- What?
- Trial separation, she says.

I'm gonna kill that broad!

[Gavel Pounding]

Ladies and gentlemen of the
jury, you have heard the evidence.

And the time has come for
you to deliberate on your verdict.

It is your sworn duty to
determine if the defendant,

Mark Lee Reynolds,

is guilty as the prosecution
charges of criminal homicide,

or, as the defense
contends, innocent,

in that he killed Clifford
Anderson in self-defense.

Now, your responsibility
is to so determine,

based solely on the evidence
and testimony presented.

And when you are in
accordance, Madam Foreman,

you shall deliver your
verdict to the court.

Bailiff, you'll escort the jury to
the jury room for deliberation.

Court is recessed till the
verdict's been reached.

That homicide charge is as full of
holes as a wheel of Swiss cheese.

Open and shut. We could
be out of here by 4:30.

I thought a murder
trial would take weeks.

Long as the county's
payin', let's order lunch.

We won't have time
to eat it. [Clears Throat]

Mr. Bentley, please,
may I call you Thornton?

You can call me
Margo. I'm a widow.

Ally Collins. Single, thanks.
How do we get some coffee?

It's over here. Excuse
me. Excuse me, everyone.

Please, we do have a foreperson.

Oh, thank you, Jackie.

I have to warn you that I have
never been a jury foreperson before.

Fraid this case ain't gonna let
ya be one for long, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, however long it takes,

I hope you will all help me to
make the job as easy as possible.

Madam Foreman, if I may— Please.

I think that we are all pretty
much of the same mind.

So the job really doesn't call
for much more than our vote.

Well, don't you think we should
examine the, uh, evidence first?

The evidence says he's
innocent of homicide.

He's guilty of one thing—
Picking the wrong time

and place to go to bed
with another man's wife.

You ride right over
that fact, Narramore.

He was in bed with
another man's wife.

- And he killed him
when he walked in on them.
- In self-defense!

Oh, yes. About that.

There's one or two
points there that I don't

quite understand. I'm
not quite clear about.

Can I please make a point?
This case is nothing but...

a great big sales pitch by a
politically ambitious district attorney.

As I tell 'em on my radio show— it's
the product that counts, not the package.

Well, product or package,
I'm not buying either one.

The point is that this case
should never have come to trial.

Then let's vote. At least we'll
know how close we are to a verdict.

Yes, I think that might
be a very helpful idea.

Uh, Frank, how
should we go about...

It's very simple. I think all we
do is write down our verdict.

I'll collect 'em. And
you can count 'em.

Very well. Shall we, uh...

Here we are.

Nine to two for acquittal
and one undecided.

Seems we're not too
far from an agreement.

Why do I get the feeling we're
going to be here for a while?

Maybe it won't seem so
long once we get started.

Started? Start where?

Well, we could begin with
Mark Reynolds's testimony.

I'd say that's a very
good place to start.

Oh, fine! Which
part of his testimony?

Well, how about where
his attorney asked him...

Mark, what did you feel
when Dr. Webster told you...

if your wife lived, she'd
be paralyzed? [Exhales]

I felt, um, guilty.

And I felt... lost.

Empty.

What did you intend when
you ran out of the hospital?

I don't know.

Um... I know I wanted to die.

But you went to a bar.

[Mark] Well, I
ended up in a bar.

Will you tell the court
why you went there?

To drink. To get drunk.

And, uh, to
drown out... reality.

My golly, in my day,

I did a lot of that, but
for different reasons.

I don't think anybody
could call that unusual.

Well, under those circumstances,
you're probably right.

But remember the district attorney's
question in cross-examination?

Why that bar, Mr. Reynolds?

Between the hospital and
the Last Resort, there are

six places where you could
have drowned your guilt.

- Why did you go to that one?
- I—I don't know. I just...

Was it because Becky Anderson
was waiting there for you? No.

- Waiting for you to play your
little game of accidental meeting?
- No.

Knowing your leaving together would
lure her husband so you could murder him?

That's badgering, Your Honor. My
client has answered the question twice.

No further
questions at this time.

As far as I am concerned, those
questions did not have to be asked.

Except that so
happens to be his case.

Exactly. And it's no case.

- Do you mind if I say something?
- Miss Conover?

It's just that...

Well, when Mark
Reynolds was talking, I...

I never got the feeling he
was trying to impress us.

He was just telling
us the simple truth.

Is this your first time on
jury duty, Miss Conover?

Look, I served
on six juries, bud.

This happens to be
my second murder trial.

What about you? [Jessica]
I agree with Miss Conover.

If anything, I thought Mark Reynolds's
testimony was very straightforward.

Because he had nothing to hide.

He certainly didn't hedge around
about the way he met Becky Anderson.

Will you tell the jury, Mark, how
long you were in the Last Resort?

Uh, I don't honestly know.

Uh, probably about two hours.

And it was there that
you met Becky Anderson?

That's right. For
the first time?

Yes. Did you have
much to drink, Mark?

- I guess I did.
- You talked for almost two hours.

And then?

Then, uh, she drove
us to her apartment.

We talked for a while.
She made some coffee.

- And then— - [Man] Did you
know Becky Anderson was married?

No. I've since found out that
she was planning to get divorced.

[Man] In fact, was separated from
her husband for several months? Yes.

Go on, please.
What happened next?

[Inhales, Exhales]

Well, all of a sudden, there
was a noise in the apartment.

[Continues]Some shouting.
It was Clifford Anderson.

The next thing I
knew was he was—

He was in the
bedroom. He had a gun.

H-He went after her.

Then he came after me.

The gun went off,

and I found myself with a—
With a fireplace poker in my hand.

And I hit him... hard.

[Man] What did you do when
you realized he was dead?

Becky called the police.

And, uh, I was
taken to the station.

And you called a lawyer.
You were allowed a call.

No. I—I— I called
the hospital...

to ask about my wife.

And, uh, they told me...

that Stephanie had died
without regaining consciousness.

I don't know what more
you need, Thornton.

The husband attacked
him! He defended himself!

I don't believe a
word of it. Well, I do.

You people are
crazy! He's lying!

What makes you
think so, Mr. Bentley?

I know he is! I know it here!
That's a great way to reach a verdict.

Look, miss, I know
that man is guilty as sin,

and there isn't anybody
here gonna change that.

It don't take much to see who
the bleeding hearts are in this room,

but I don't much care.

We can sit here till Christmastime if
that's what you want. That man is guilty!

[Jurors Arguing, Indistinct]

[Jessica] Gentlemen!
Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Gentlemen!

Please. Please. Mr. Callahan,
Mr. Lord, won’t you please sit down?

Well, what is the point, Mrs.
Fletcher? This jury has just been hung...

by this gentleman
with the open mind.

More like an open cavity,
if you ask me. Oh, please!

Mr. Bentley is entitled to hold
any opinion that he wishes.

Now, maybe we should
dig deeper into the testimony.

- Oh, come on, Mrs. Fletcher.
- Now, there was another witness...

who saw what happened that
morning, and that was Becky Anderson.

[District Attorney] You say your husband
had no right to come to your house?

No, he didn't. We
were separated.

- I had a restraining order.
- Your pending divorce—
what are the grounds?

Objection. Question has no
bearing on the case at hand.

Well, it does if it indicates
the character of the witness.

Overruled. The
witness will answer.

"Irreconcilable differences."

And your husband countersued,

accusing you of infidelity.

- He had no grounds.
- Mrs. Anderson,

could you give me a— a rough
estimate of the number of men...

- you've taken home
from various bars around town?
- Your Honor, I object!

Mr. Casselli, you
know better than that.

My apologies, Your Honor.

Mrs. Anderson,

- how many times had you
slept with the defendant?
- Once. I told you that.

- And did you know
Mark Reynolds before that night?
- No!

- You never saw him before the night
your husband was murdered?
- No!

I, for one, really resented the
district attorney's line of questioning.

She's as big a liar
as he is— Reynolds.

And I'll tell you something else, Callahan.
Mr. Moneybags is not what he seems.

[Ally] Moneybags?
Yeah. Rich and got it all!

Used to havin' everything
his own way. Hey! Hey! Hey!

He isn't rich. His wife had
the money. He's got it now.

Mr. Bentley, Mark Reynolds
is on trial. Not his lifestyle.

I take it, Mrs. Fletcher, you
were one of the two for conviction.

If she wasn't, you think we'd be
sitting here reexaminin' the evidence?

Well, actually,
Mr. Corbin, I'm undecided.

Oh! You're the undecided one.

What are you gonna
try to do, Mrs. Fletcher,

turn this into one of your
convoluted whodunits?

Look, I am afraid, Frank, that this
case is not as simple as it seems.

Lady, this is a very simple
case of a one-night stand...

being marred by a
tragic coincidence.

Interesting that you
should say coincidence.

And every whodunit's
gotta have a few. Right?

And there's one that I have
a very hard time forgetting.

A couple of things have
been puzzling me also.

Oh, great! Another
country heard from.

Well, excuse me, but I was
bothered by what Fenton Harris said.

Yes, Jackie, so was I.

My motel is called
the Bide-A-Wee.

Always hated that
name. My wife picked it.

Used to call her Lola.

She always got what she
wanted. [Spectators Laugh]

Will you tell the court
where it's located?

About 15 miles north
of town out on Route 37.

Mr. Harris, do you recognize
anyone in the courtroom?

In my business, it's good practice
never to recognize the customers.

[Laughs] That's a little joke.

Mr. Harris, please.

You're askin' if he
ever came to my motel.

He did. Four, five,
six times maybe.

[Spectators Murmuring]

Let the record show that the witness
identified Mark Reynolds, the defendant.

Will you tell the court if
you recognize anyone else?

You mean, do I recognize
her? Ms. Anderson there?

Like I told you before, I think I
seen her once with Mr. Reynolds.

[Spectators Murmuring] Didn't come
in the office. Stayed outside in the car.

[Pounds Gavel]
Order in the court.

Order in the court!

When was this,
Mr. Harris? Approximately?

About... three months ago. Yeah.

Making it six weeks
prior to the time...

that Mark Reynolds and Becky
Anderson claim they met for the first time.

I told you he was a liar! He
said he thought he saw her.

He wasn't sure. How could
he be sure? He's half-blind.

- Mrs. Fletcher— - Well, if there's
a chance that he recognized her,

I think that we
seriously have to...

reexamine the notion that this
was merely a one-night stand.

One moment, please!

On cross-examination, Reynolds's lawyer
got him to admit he wasn't sure. Right.

Yeah. But suppose he was
right. And we choose to ignore it?

Suppose this and suppose that.
Now, you gotta stop this, Mrs. Fletcher.

You can't turn this into one of
your make-believe murder mysteries.

Yes. All right, I agree.

But even if the woman
in the car wasn't Becky,

doesn't Mr. Harris's
testimony say something

about Mark Reynolds's
character and his marriage?

Yeah. Makes you wonder just
how far you really can trust him.

Mrs. MacKay, you likely
have nothing to do all

day but sit home and
listen to soap operas.

And just what is that
supposed to mean?

It means that I have
a business to run.

And I can't afford to waste any
more time away from my shop.

Well, that's just too bad
about you, lady. There

are a few more of us
with businesses to run.

Short of turning
this into a hung jury,

you're gonna have to
stick it out like we are.

Look, I'm sure that none of us
want a hung jury, Mr. Bentley.

Look, look. About
Reynolds's fooling around...

I can understand that. My
first wife had all the money.

So I know what it feels
like, believe me. You

just wanna prove
something, if only to yourself.

Well, that's interesting. I—I
hadn't thought of it that way.

Well, he's got the money
now. Enough to hire...

a fancy Manhattan
lawyer with his $600 suits.

Oh, will you get off that.
His lawyer is not on trial.

Yeah. Slick guy like that. Wonder
why he didn't hire somebody local.

We keep getting
away from the issue.

We sure do, folks. This is
a man's life we're deciding.

Yes, that's right. And most of us
here are of a mind to let him keep it.

It's Mrs. Fletcher and her minions
who are so anxious to see him hang.

Good heavens. Is
that what you think?

Really, all I'm trying to do
is to examine both sides.

And examine and
examine and examine.

- Well, I for one cannot
find any fault with that.
- Oh, right on cue, honey.

We know what Mr. Reynolds's
lawyer wants us to believe.

Self-defense. But you'll
remember that the district attorney...

painted a very different
picture in his opening statement.

The prosecution will prove
beyond a reasonable doubt...

that Mark Reynolds and
Becky Anderson were lovers.

And that they conspired
to kill Clifford Anderson.

If it was conspiracy, then why
isn't Becky Anderson on trial?

Money, my friend. Her lawyer
fixed it so she'd get tried separately.

Well, when we convict him, the
next jury will do the same to her.

The district attorney
said reasonable doubt.

Well, I've got it. That's
why I'm voting for acquittal.

So am I. And me.

Yes. But what if Fenton
Harris did see Becky?

What if Mark and
Becky weren't strangers?

Gracious, I thought
we'd been all through that.

- We did, Miss Webster.
- Oh, for goodness' sake.

Why can't you people
just listen for a minute?

I mean, after all, this woman
has a brilliant criminal mind.

- [Laughs]
- That's not what I meant.

Well, you know, maybe it's
my “criminal mind"— [Chuckles]

that sees this as a
very complicated puzzle.

And if so, please, bear with me.

But if Mr. Harris saw
them at his motel,

what light does that shed
on the prosecution's case?

And what about the
bartender at the Last Resort?

And as I remember it,
he was very certain...

that he had never seen
Mark Reynolds before.

How about Becky Anderson?
Had you ever seen her before?

Oh, sure. She comes in a lot.

- With her husband?
- Yeah.

Before they broke up.
And afterwards, by herself.

You'd call her a regular?

Regular enough.

Mr. Blevins,

did Becky Anderson ever
pick up a man in the bar?

Not that I ever saw. But she
did pick up Mark Reynolds?

- Well, I wouldn't exactly—
- They did meet there.

And they left together.
Is that correct?

Yeah.

On the surface,

it appears that two strangers meet
in a bar and become fast friends.

But if you believe Fenton
Harris, the motel owner,

you have to believe that Mark and
Becky already knew one another.

And if that's true, why this
complicated charade in the bar?

They wouldn't
because they didn't.

I know why! They
wanted to be seen.

Yes. That's what
I keep thinking.

Oh, please! Remember
when the barman...

said that Cliff
Anderson still came in.

And even if he didn't
come in that night,

they could expect some
other friends to come around.

Somebody like Detweiler.

Hey, I wouldn't
call Cliff a buddy,

but bein' a married man myself,

I'd wanna know if my old
lady was cattin' around.

- So I figured he would too.
- So if the district attorney's
theory is correct,

that phone call triggered their
plan to kill Becky's husband.

Well, after that creep
called, Cliff was off like a shot.

Had you known the deceased long?

Oh, yeah. We fished
together, oh, five or six years.

He was livin' with
me for eight months.

Would you say he had a temper?

Temper? [Laughs] Does
week-old fish bait stink?

[Spectators Laughs]

Well, the last thing
he did say was that...

- he was gonna kill her.
- [Spectators Murmuring]

One final question...

When Clifford Anderson left
your apartment, was he armed?

Armed? Are you kiddin'?

Answer the
question, Mr. Patecki.

No. He was not armed.

Okay?

Puzzle piece number one— Where
did Cliff Anderson get the gun?

Now, that's an
important question...

because a great deal of the
prosecution's case relies on the answer.

I think the general
assumption was that he had

picked it up on his
way to his wife's house.

It was midnight when he got the
call. Where would he have gotten it?

Remember the ballistics expert
said the gun had no registration.

A single shot was fired.

And he said that he
had made a nitrate test...

on the hands of both Mark
Reynolds and Cliff Anderson.

There were powder
traces on the hands of both,

indicating that both held
the gun when it discharged.

A matching slug was removed
from the living room wall.

The only fingerprints
on that gun...

were those of Cliff
Anderson and Mark Reynolds.

Proving a struggle.
Proving self-defense.

Oh, come on! Proving that
this whole thing was planned...

to lure this poor
man to his death.

And proving what I said
about Reynolds all along.

You people must be
from some other planet.

Will you listen to yourselves?
A guy has a car accident.

His wife is fatally injured, so he leaves
her in a hospital to go meet a dame...

because he and this
dame have some idea about

killing her husband by
maybe luring him to her house?

I mean, please! You gotta
have rocks in your heads!

What'd you say to me, buddy?
You're ready to stay here all year?

Well, so am I, pal! And
as for you, Mrs. Fletcher,

you've let this whole
thing get out of hand.

I think it's about time
for you to step aside...

and let somebody else
run these proceedings,

somebody who has a
vague idea what they're doing.

Oh, sit down. You talk too much.

Mrs. Fletcher is doing
quite nicely, thank you.

I certainly don't want the job.

Mr. Lord, I'm perfectly
willing to step aside if

that's what— That won't
be necessary, Mrs. Fletcher.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Frank, sit down.

Hey! It's perfectly
okay. I got lots of time.

Well...

Let's go back to another part of
the puzzle that doesn't quite fit...

Becky Anderson's neighbor.

Oh, yeah! The wimp
who came home...

to find the husband's
car blocking the driveway.

I had to leave my
car on the street.

Did you go say anything to him?

With a temper like he had?

Mm-mm. Listen, if I was
Mr. Reynolds over there,

and I saw Cliff Anderson come
bustin' through the door at me,

I'd have grabbed for that poker.

Better an ax or a gun, if one
was handy. [Spectators Murmuring]

I'm here to tell ya it's a good thing
that young fella used that poker.

If he hadn't, a couple of hours later
when I was lookin' through the window,

it would've been his
body I'd have seen the

ambulance takin' away,
not Cliff Anderson's.

It still doesn't
prove conspiracy.

It does prove that if Mark and Becky
were looking for a volatile response,

all they had to do was
wait for Clifford Anderson...

to show up.

And show up he did.

[Continues] But
they were not in bed.

They had not been making love.

They had been
planning his murder.

They heard him
drive up in front.

They heard him
barge into the house.

And when he stormed
towards the bedroom,

they were waiting.

He didn't have a gun.
Mark Reynolds had the gun.

An unregistered
gun. He needed it...

as evidence for
his self-defense.

And when the murder was done,

when the stage was set,

then they called the police.

Speculation?

No. Ladies and
gentlemen, it is fact.

I look at these
two people, I see...

pleasant, all-American
attractiveness.

I'd like to believe
the story they told,

but I can't.

Perhaps if they'd agreed to
a lie detector examination...

Your Honor, objection!

Sustained. Mr. Casselli,
you know better than that.

Yes. I do, Your Honor,

and I beg the
court's forgiveness.

That was a pretty cheap trick.

Even I know you can't talk
about a lie detector in a courtroom.

But he did. And we
heard him. If they had

nothing to hide, why
didn't they take the test?

[Callahan] You know, for once,
Bentley, I think you do have a point.

Mrs. Fletcher, maybe
you've been right all along.

Well, I haven't been saying
that I'm right, Mr. Callahan.

I'm just trying to find the proper
pieces to fit into the proper places.

Perhaps we were a little hasty
presuming Reynolds was innocent.

Maybe Cliff Anderson
didn't have the gun.

Oh, no. If there's one
thing I am ready to accept,

it's that he brought that
gun into the house with him.

- [Frank] If he had the gun
with him— - Now, wait a minute.

You talk half this room outta believing it
was self-defense, and then you tell us...

[Jessica] I'm not telling
you anything, Miss Collins.

But I would like you to remember
the testimony of that traffic officer.

Oh, sure. I remember him.

He arrested Anderson a
year ago on drunken driving.

He found a gun in
the glove compartment!

And I seem to remember
he confiscated it.

Yes. But doesn't it seem logical that
a man like that might buy another one?

Mrs. Fletcher, you're—you're bringing
us right back where we started from.

Not really.

What do you mean not really?
If Anderson brought the gun,

then Reynolds killing him was
self-defense, which it was not.

I'm sorry, Mr. Bentley,
but it may have been.

Oh, really, Mrs. Fletcher?
That's what we've

been contending
since we walked in here.

What a joyous waste
of time this has been.

Really, Miss Collins! If you didn't
want to serve, what are you doing here?

I couldn't dream up another
excuse they'd believe, okay?

Oh, please!

Look, I posed the
question about the gun...

because we have all been
overlooking something,

- and me included, I'm afraid.
- Well, hallelujah.

It bears on the
struggle for the gun.

- And what would that be?
- The fact that Mark Reynolds...

had injured his shoulder
in the automobile accident.

Remember the testimony
of the paramedics...

who took Mark and
his wife to the hospital?

He was in a lot of pain.

He'd broken his left collarbone,
but he didn't want us to touch him.

- Why was that?
- He didn't want us to take the time.

He wanted us to get his wife to
the hospital as fast as we could.

[Continues]Somebody told me later
they'd been married less than a year.

He was really broken up.

His wife had come
to for a moment.

"Why?” she says.

He'd swerved to keep from
hitting some kid on a bike...

and has to watch
her lie there dyin'.

The last thing he was
thinking about was himself.

When Dr. Webster was called to the
stand to testify, he said the same thing.

Mrs. Fletcher, will you
please get to the point?

Well, my point is that neither
the paramedic nor Dr. Webster...

treated Mark
Reynolds's shoulder.

Are you implying he wasn't hurt?

Oh, no. No, not at all.

Mr. Reynolds was
obviously in pain.

But his only concern
was for his wife.

The idea that she might never
walk sent him into a frenzy.

I wish he'd stayed with her.

But a little after 1:00,
she suddenly went sour.

The heart monitor
alerted the nurses,

but by the time they could
get to her room, she was gone.

If Mr. Reynolds
had been with her,

well, perhaps they might
have reached her faster.

But who knows?

Okay. So would
you please tell us...

what does the broken collarbone have
to do with whether or not he had the gun?

Would you stand up, Mr. Lord?

May I borrow your cane
just for a moment, please?

Mr. Lord.

Good. You're right-handed too.

What do you mean "too"?
Well, Mark Reynolds's

right-hand fingerprints
were on the poker.

His injury made his left
arm practically useless.

It would have been almost
impossible for him to aim the gun,

- let alone struggle over it
with Clifford Anderson.
- Well, maybe Becky had the gun.

Yes, but the traces of gunpowder
were on his left hand. His and Cliff's.

Good point.

But if he couldn't hold a gun,
much less struggle for one,

than how did the
powder traces get there?

Well, that's a
question I can't answer.

Now, there are a couple of
other things that bother me.

Well, with what you just came
up with, I'm willing to listen.

You may be willing to
listen to it. I think I've had it.

Well, why don't you just keep
an open mind? Listen, my friend.

There's only so much testimony,
and we've gone over it all.

No! The stuff about the
left arm, the powder traces...

That makes it all a
different story for me.

I say we stick to our original
verdict. I'm voting for self-defense.

[Narramore] Sorry. I
can't go along anymore.

Mrs. Fletcher's stopped
me cold on self-defense.

But still, murder?

Broken collarbones,
powder traces. Whatever.

Anderson is dead.
Reynolds killed him.

I'm still calling it that.

Hey, I've heard nothin'
that changes my mind.

Maybe that's because you people
haven't been listening very hard.

Mrs. Fletcher has made
a lot of sense so far.

Why can't we just keep
talking and listening, huh?

I mean, we're 12 reasonably
intelligent people here.

We oughta be able
to sort this thing out.

Damn it. That's what
we're here for, isn't it?

Well, she is right.

Why don't we just keep at it?

Okay, Mrs. Fletcher,
you've got the floor.

Oh, dear. I wish I could be a little bit
more sure about what I'm doing with it.

Now— Now, look, I have
three major problems,

things that make no sense
the way they were presented.

For one thing, I
believe Mr. Harris.

- The motel owner?
- Yes.

I really do think that Mark
and Becky knew each other...

before the night her
husband was killed.

Now we're getting somewhere.

But, Mr. Lord, you also made
a very persuasive argument.

I mean, it seems ludicrous
that these two people,

with Mark's wife lying
critically ill in a hospital bed,

would choose this night to lure
Becky's husband to his death.

- Well, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.
- No, no, no.

If it wasn't premeditated, then it had
to be self-defense. There's nothing else.

But there is something
else, Miss Collins.

A third possibility that none
of us have yet considered.

[All Arguing] Mrs. Fletcher,
what other possibility?

- What are you talking about?
- I'm afraid this is all beyond me.

Mrs. Fletcher, if this is another
one of your trips to fantasyland—

Frank, will you just sit
there and shut up and listen!

[Corbin] Let's hear
it, Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, what we have to do is to take
a look at two particular statements,

contradictory statements, starting
with Mark Reynolds's description...

of what happened when Becky's
husband burst through that bedroom door.

- We've gone over that.
- And I hope for the last time.

Now, he said that there
were words exchanged,

and suddenly they were
struggling with a gun.

Mark picked up the
poker. The gun went off.

And Mark struck Anderson with the
poker. Then the police were called.

Now, all that couldn't have taken more
than five— well, 10 minutes at the most.

- No argument. Go on.
- Then what about Arthur Jasper?

The next door-neighbor.
Exactly. The

next-door neighbor whose
driveway was blocked.

Now how did he put it? If Mark
Reynolds's hadn't hit Cliff with the poker,

a couple of hours later
when I looked out the window,

it could have been his
body being taken out

in that ambulance
instead of Cliff Anderson's.

He did say that! Mm-hmm.

"A couple of hours later." If Mark
Reynolds had been telling the truth,

the police and the ambulance would
have been there— Almost immediately.

Then they lied. Why?

And what was Cliff Anderson
doing in her apartment all that time?

And the way Reynolds told it,

they called the police less than
five minutes after he got there.

Obviously they didn't.

You were right,
Mr. Narramore. They lied.

Leaving us, I'm afraid, with
only one inescapable conclusion.

And only one possible verdict.

[Murmuring] [Gavel Pounding]

[Judge] The defendant will rise.

Ladies and gentlemen of the
jury, have you reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.
How do you find?

We find the
defendant not guilty.

[Murmuring]

The defendant is released.

Ladies and gentlemen of the
jury, I thank you for your efforts.

Court is adjourned!
[Gavel Pounds]

[Murmuring]

Mr. Casselli. Mrs. Fletcher.

I thought I had a
pretty good case.

I guess I can save myself the
effort of going after Mrs. Anderson.

Oh, my, no.

By all means, I think you
should, now more than ever.

Could we meet in your
office in, say, 30 minutes?

Sure, I suppose so, but...

You might also ask Becky
Anderson to be there with her attorney.

Look, before I put myself in an awkward
position, do you mind if I ask why?

Oh, not at all. The last thing
in the world I want to do...

is to put you in an
awkward position.

Tom, I promised Martha I'd
be home for supper at 6:00.

Mrs. Fletcher said she'd... Ah.

Oh. So sorry to keep
you waiting. I got held up.

Not at all, Mrs.
Fletcher. No problem.

Oscar, do you know Jessica
Fletcher? Oscar Ramsey.

I know the lady by reputation.
How do you do, Mr. Ramsey?

Ma'am. Have you
met Becky Anderson?

Well, we haven't
been introduced. Hello.

Mrs. Fletcher. Got to say you people
in the jury didn't surprise me any.

That so? I did figure you'd
come in sooner with the verdict.

Well, we spent some time— Finding as you
did makes this meetin' somewhat academic.

However, Tom said you'd explain.

Well, Mr. Ramsey,
it's really simple.

You see, it's our
opinion, that is the jury's,

that Becky Anderson
killed her husband.

- That's not true!
- What the hell is this?

Hear her out, Oscar.
It gets very interesting.

It's a bunch of damn hogwash!

The same evidence that got the
first verdict is gonna clear my client.

Well, we didn't exactly
find on that evidence.

- You didn't what?
- Well, of course it was the evidence...

and how we saw it after
some pushing and poking.

One thing we couldn't
understand is...

what happened when your
husband arrived at your apartment.

Mark explained that.

Well, not to our
satisfaction, I'm afraid.

In fact, we feel that
he was lying. No!

I'm not gonna allow
this. We are leavin'.

You'll save us both a lot of time
and work if you stay and listen, Oscar.

Mark's story about struggling for the
gun and wielding the fireplace poker...

Now, it really is so much
nonsense considering...

that his collarbone
injury from the accident.

I was there. I saw it.

[Jessica] Yes, you were there.
But you didn't see anything.

You're the one who
struck the fatal blow.

While Mark stood by and watched?

No. We don't believe that he
was there when it happened.

Really? And just where
was he, Mrs. Fletcher?

He was at the hospital
murdering his wife.

Play “Hail Columbia"
and salute the flag!

Will you listen
to that! [Laughs]

- That is what happened,
isn't it, Becky?
- No!

Isn't that why you refused
to take the lie detector test,

because you were afraid if
you were asked if Mark had

killed your husband in
self-defense and you answered yes,

the machine would show
that you were lying? No!

Not a shred of this will fly.

You try usin' this in court, and I'll set
your run for state office back 10 years.

Oscar, we are not talking politics here.
We are talking cold-blooded murder.

Mark Reynolds had been to the
Bide-A-Wee motel at least six times.

How many others
might he have gone to?

And on the night of his wife's dying,
he picked up another woman in a tavern.

- It was an accidental encounter.
- A woman he'd been seen with
six weeks earlier.

That testimony was refuted
by cross-examination.

Not refuted, merely
challenged. Mrs. Fletcher,

maybe you can make somethin'
like this work in one of your novels,

but not in a court of law.

That was the first time I saw
him. You heard the bartender.

And the bartender heard what
you and Mark wanted him to hear.

[Jessica's Voice Continues] The
reason for the accidental meeting was...

to give Mark an alibi
from a so-called stranger.

His motive is clear.
He loved Becky.

His wife of less than a year had
all the money. He wanted both.

Next thing you’ll say
is the car accident...

that damn near killed him
and his wife was deliberate.

Well, I believe that it was.

A former professional
race car driver?

He staged it so that
his wife would be killed.

He wore a seat
belt. She never did.

He slammed her side of
the car into that utility pole.

[Continues] It was
made-to-order murder.

Remember the paramedic
saying she asked "Why"?

She was asking why
he tried to kill her.

The fact that she
didn't die on impact...

and the fact that the doctor said she could
regain consciousness and expose him...

meant he had to quickly
improvise a foolproof alibi.

He called Becky. Who
else could he trust?

And what better alibi than to
be in bed with another woman?

She's wrong. Mr. Ramsey,
you have to believe me.

It would have worked except
for two unforeseen events.

First, was your being
remembered by the motel man.

The other was your husband's
learning of your being in that tavern.

When he did, when he came home
to your house, he found you alone.

Now, you couldn't let anyone know Mark
wasn't with you, so you had to kill him.

That's not how it happened!
He was furious! He had a gun...

Don't say any more!

I'm not going to
face this alone.

Miss Anderson, don't
incriminate yourself.

If she wants to cooperate,
Oscar, we could cut a deal...

if the husband's death
really was self-defense.

Even if Mrs. Fletcher's right...

and my client and Reynolds
were mixed up in his wife's murder?

She could plead second
degree in the wife's death.

I want Mark Reynolds.

Becky?

All right.

Tell us the entire story.

I was alone.

[Continues] Mark had been gone a half
hour, 40 minutes by the time Cliff came.

He was in a rage.

He said all sorts of—

He was horrible.
Ugly. He had a gun.

He wouldn't believe I was alone.

And when he found out I
was, he demanded to know...

who the man was
and where he was.

He swore he'd kill
him. And me. I...

The poker was in my hand.

And I hit him.

He fell.

It was a— a half hour maybe,

maybe more when—
When Mark came back.

He said it was
made-to-order. A foolproof alibi.

He'd confess to killing
Cliff in self-defense and—

And that way no one
would have the slightest

hint that he'd killed
his wife in cold blood.

And to make certain that
it looked like self-defense,

he saw to it that his
fingerprints were on the poker...

and that the powder
traces were on his left hand.

So with the bullet
fired into the wall,

all that was left was
for you to call the police.

He said it was easy to sneak
into his wife's hospital room.

A pillow over her face...

As weak as she was,
she died almost instantly.

The deal holds, Oscar, but I'll
need her on the witness stand.

She'll be there.

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher.
Oh, Mr. Reynolds.

How can I thank
you for your verdict?

There's no need.

The satisfaction is knowing
that the right thing has been done.

Nevertheless, I just want you to
know I'll always remember you.

Oh, yes. I'm
quite sure you will.

[All Murmuring]