Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 2, Episode 16 - Murder in the Electric Cathedral - full transcript

Don't let them change my
will. They're all after my money.

- Friends, bless you all.
- [Woman] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

We got it! Her will!
Praise the Lord!

I suspect that
Carrie was poisoned.

The chief and half the staff
just went on sick leave...

- Leaving you— - Leaving me holding
a sackful of diamondback rattlers.

You were with my
husband at midnight?

Willie John was
ministering to my needs.

Oh, now, stop this! Have
you lost your senses?

Now, you oughta be in jail, which is
where you're gonna be, Willie John.

[Man] And I say to you, my friends, those
of you who want to believe will believe.



Those of you who listen for his voice
will hear his voice, ♪ [Choir Vocalizing]

and those who give themselves
to him will be received of him.

There is a place for you— All of
you— in his heavenly firmament.

He is waiting— His
arms open wide,

waiting to clasp you
to his beautiful bosom...

and warm you with his love.

Surrender yourself now, my friends. Open
your hearts and receive him. ♪ [Continues]

And I say to you, you will dwell
in the house of the Lord forever.

My prayers and those of
my beloved wife, Sister Ruth,

are with you always.

If you are troubled, if
you are sick and in pain,

if you feel as if
you've been forsaken,

write us a letter,
even a postcard.

Let us know how we can
help to ease your burden,



for we are family— One
family in the sight of God,

and our thoughts and
prayers will be with you.

Two, Sister Ruth.
Move in for a close-up.

Now, for those of you
in the Omaha area,

Sister Ruth and I
will be appearing the

weekend of July 9 and
10 at Carlstad Stadium...

and the following weekend in
Denver at the Malloy Auditorium.

Widen out, three, so
we can see their choir.

Make your plans now.

Friends, neighbors, we love you.

Keep us in your prayers as we
keep you in ours and bless you all.

Take the cross. Start
the crawl. And cue Edgar.

You have been
listening to the Reverend

Willie John Fargo from
the Electric Cathedral.

To receive a copy of Reverend
Fargo's inspirational sermon,

send one dollar to
the Church of the

Electric Cathedral—
What's that big grin for?

[Laughs] Well, what happened?

We sell out in Omaha?

Better than that,
Willie John. We got it!

Her will! She just
recorded it! We got it?

Every last cent.

♪ [Choir Vocalizing]
Praise the Lord!

[Man Laughing] Oh,
Harvey, that's wonderful!

At 1,800 feet, that drill hits
the sandstone substrata,

and by Wednesday, we
punch through at 2,600 feet,

and wham—we got ourselves
another gusher! [Applause, Whooping]

[Chattering]

- Thank you.
- Daddy!

Daddy, you're not
gonna believe this!

What, Alice finally
file for divorce, Sam?

Hell, Daddy, this is serious.

[Groans]

This time she's
gone too damn far!

Damn right! [Both
Muttering, Shouting]

Oh, there must be some mistake.
This doesn't look like a hog farm.

[Laughs] Nope, Old Wendell's hog
farm is down the road about 10 miles,

sittin' on a five-mile
pool of Oklahoma crude.

There's only one Carrie McKittrick in these
parts, and she is a pistol. [Door Opens]

- Jessica?
- [Laughing]

Jessica! [Laughing]

Well, you did ask me to stop
by if I ever came to Oklahoma.

Come on in.

Carrie, I'm amazed that
you even recognized me.

My goodness, you know,
it's more than 30 years.

At my age, 30 years
seems like last month.

It's last month I have
trouble remembering.

Besides, I still keep up with my
readin'. [Footsteps Approaching]

Miss Carrie. Thank you, Ethel.

Can I give you some help?

Don't fuss me, Ethel.
I can still pour tea.

You know, if it hadn't been
for your encouragement,

there might not
have been any books.

You were a joy to teach, child.

That is what I miss most— the
teaching... and—and Wendell, of course.

He passed on 15 years
ago, God rest his soul.

Jessica, I have met
the most wonderful man.

He's such a comfort to me. You
must meet him while you're here.

Oh, dear, I would love to,
but I do have a plane to catch.

Oh, nonsense.

You must stay over.

So many things I want to
talk to you about. ♪ [Car Horn]

Come on, boy!
Mama! Mama, I told ya!

I told ya! Lord Almighty,
that's my grandson, Sam.

I hope he and Alice
haven't had another fight.

Look, if I've come
at an awkward time...

Fiddlesticks. I want
you to meet him.

We'll get this thing straightened
out! Harvey, what in the world?

How could you do this to
us? And behind our backs?

You two, mind your manners,

and say howdy-do
to Jessica Fletcher.

Jessica, Harvey, my stepson—

You can't cut your own
kin out of McKittrick Oil!

[Sam] Changin' your will
and recordin' it with the county!

You have got more
than you will ever need!

I'll do with mine as I see fit.

Leavin' controllin' interest in
McKittrick Oil to Willie John Fargo?

- Are you insane, Mama?
- Mr. McKittrick!

Please, this is no
good for Carrie.

- Now, you stay outta this!
- And you get out of my parlor...

and stay out until you
remember your manners!

That preacher's made you crazy in
the head! We're goin' to the lawyers.

We're gonna have you
declared non compos

mentis! We're gonna
have that will invalidated!

Lord, forgive those boys
their selfishness—Oh!

- Oh, Carrie! Ethel! Ethel!
- [Groaning]

Sit down, dear. It's all
right. She has a weak heart.

Dr. Brady, how is she?
Is she going to be all right?

Well, we won't know for certain till
we get some test results back. Oh.

May I see her? Might be
the best medicine for her.

Sue Beth, would you
take Mrs. Fletcher into 207?

Thank you. Sure.

[Monitor Beeping]

- Jessica.
- My, you're looking better.

Oh, I'm so sorry this had to
happen on your visit, Jessica.

Damned heart. Always
kicking up at the wrong times.

I've decided to stay over a few days
until you're feeling more like yourself.

Jessica, if anything
should happen to me...

Oh, nothing's going to
happen to you, Carrie.

But if it should,

don't let them change my will.

They'll try. They're
all after my money,

except Alice.

You just concentrate
on getting better.

Worry about the money later.

Jessica, please.

Of course. I promise.

Sister Carrie?

Willie John.

I was laboring in the
Lord's vineyard, videotaping

Sunday's sermon,
when a voice came to me.

"Carrie McKittrick
needs you. Go to her."

And as I rushed
here, I prayed mightily.

"Our Sister Carrie's work on
this Earth is not finished, Lord.

Don't take her from us yet."

It's such a comfort
to have you here.

You're in the hands
of the Lord, Carrie.

I feel stronger already.

Oh, this is an old
friend, Jessica Fletcher.

Reverend Willie John Fargo,
the man I told you about.

How do you do, Reverend Fargo?

Our dear friend is in good
hands here, Miss Jessica.

While the good Lord never
gave me the gift of healing,

he did provide a
means to build this clinic.

- This is your clinic?
- Part of my Electric Cathedral.

Oh. I'm afraid I didn't
notice any cathedral.

Well, there isn't any church building
as such. My ministry's electronic.

We reach out through
the miracle of television.

- I see.
- Miss Jessica, I wonder if you'd mind.

I'd like to pray privately a
few moments with Miss Carrie.

- Oh, of course.
- Sue Beth?

She's gotta be over 80.
She can't live forever.

Earl, please,
will you stop this?

Look, the way Willie John spends
it, we're gonna need every penny.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher? Yes.

They told me you were
with Mrs. McKittrick.

I'm Sister Ruth Fargo. This is
Earl Fargo, my husband's brother.

How do you do? Pleasure.

Is she feeling any
better? Yes, a little, I think.

I was devastated by the news.
She is such a delightful woman.

I wanna talk to someone in
authority! Who's in charge here?

You! Where is she?
We're gettin' her outta here!

Mrs. McKittrick is under the private care
of Dr. Brady. What room you got her in?

What's going on
here? This is a hospital!

You just get her ready.
We're gonna take her home!

Mrs. McKittrick is seriously
ill. She can't be moved.

- And keep your voices down!
- She's alive, ain't she?

And we aim to keep it
that way. We're gonna

get an ambulance, take
her to Tulsa General!

I can't allow you to do
that. I'll bet you can't,

considerin' who
signs your paycheck!

Excuse me, all of you! I
mean, Carrie is resting quietly.

The last thing she wants
is a family squabble.

This ain't none
of your business!

Seems to me Miss Jessica’s
on the Lord's side here, Sam.

Oh, you Bible-thumping
charlatan!

You brainwashed the old woman
into givin' you all her money!

Not to me, to the
work of the Lord.

You oughta be in jail, which is where
you're gonna be, as soon as I get ahold...

of the district attorney to file
charges of fraud and embezzlement!

Oh, now, stop this! Have
you lost your senses?

I mean, this behavior
is unforgivable!

Mrs. Fletcher is right.
If you want to fight,

do it someplace else,
but not in my hospital!

We're leavin', Preacher,
for Mama's sake.

But if anything happens to her,
you're gonna have a lot to answer for.

Oh, Jessica.

Jessica, has Alice been here?

Alice? Sam's wife.

- Oh.
- I'd like to see her, please, Jessica.

- Would you phone her for me?
- Oh, yes, of course.

- Tell her I'm here.
- You really shouldn't have any visitors.

She might get more
rest if we left her alone.

There's a waiting
room just down the hall.

I will phone Alice. Try to
get some more sleep, Carrie.

[Line Ringing]

[Door Opens]

[Monitor Beeping]

- [Monitor: Long, Sustained Beep]
- [Alarm Beeping]

Code blue! Code blue! Room 207!

[Woman On P.A.] Code blue.
Attention, all available personnel.

Code blue, Two
West. [Chattering]

Code blue. Attention,
all available personnel.

Code blue.
[Chattering Continues]

[Nurse] Mrs. McKittrick!

Three c.c.'s epi,
stat! Yes, Doctor!

[Doctor] Vital signs?
Sam, what happened?

[Sam] She just
stopped breathing.

[Doctor] This isn't
doing any good.

Hands off. Stand back.
[Defibrillator Clicks]

[Nurse] No response, Doctor.
[Doctor] All right. Let's try it again.

Stand back. Hands off. Clear.

[Defibrillator Clicks] Sorry,
ma'am, but you can't be here.

Oh, dear Lord. Cyanide.

Alice, I'm sorry
about your grandma.

Thank you, Mr. Whittaker.

At least she didn't
have to suffer.

Where is Harvey? He got me
out of bed about an hour ago.

- Said something about an investigation.
- Oh, Fred!

Now, Fred, as district
attorney, I want you

to personally investigate
Willie John Fargo!

Why? What for?
Why, the will, Fred!

Willie John swindled Mama into
signin' all her money over to him.

And before the ink's
hardly dry, Mama up and

dies of a heart attack
right here in his clinic!

Harvey, can't this wait?

Fred? Well, I'll
certainly look into it.

But I can't just throw wild accusations
at a man like Willie John Fargo.

Oh, Mr. McKittrick, please let
me express my deepest sympathy.

Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher. Oh,
this is my daughter-in-law, Alice.

Mrs. Fletcher. And this is our
district attorney, Mr. Fred Whittaker.

- Grandma spoke of you often.
- Well, at least Carrie enjoyed
a long and full life.

Not as long and as full as it
might have been, Mr. Whittaker.

I suspect that Carrie
was poisoned. Poisoned?

- What?
- Mrs. Fletcher is right.

My examination indicates that Mrs.
McKittrick died of cyanide poisoning.

Oh, my Lord! Do you mean
that she got the wrong medicine?

No, that's impossible.

I think you should check
this out, Mr. Whittaker.

It—It smells of cyanide.

- Where did you get this?
- I found it on the floor in Carrie's room.

You tampered with
possible evidence?

Oh, no, of course not. But
I thought it was important,

under the circumstances, to
get it to the authorities right away,

and I placed it very
carefully in that plastic bag.

- It may have fingerprints on it.
- Well, seems to me...

you'll be wantin' to talk to Willie
John Fargo about this, Fred.

And you may also want
to talk to Sam McKittrick.

He was in Carrie's
room when she died.

Mmm. Sam come back to see her.

Well—Oh, well, that was— That
was real thoughtful of the boy.

Well, naturally, I'll
have a chat with Sam.

Tomorrow'll be plenty of time.

Dr. Brady, you wanna
show me that report?

[Alice] I just can't
believe she's really gone.

You were in her thoughts.
I tried to call you last night.

I, uh, wasn't home. Uh, I spent
the evening over at Harvey's.

I had to talk to him
about something.

Don't you think it might be easier to
drive without those dark glasses on?

Sam and I had a little spat.

So I see.

This marriage just doesn't work.
It never has. And I'm leaving Sam.

Oh, I'm so sorry. Don't be.

I was only waiting because
Grandma didn't approve of divorce.

Waiting? Yeah.
She was terminally ill.

It was, uh, just a matter
of months. We all knew it.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm going to sleep
over at Grandma's for the time being.

So if you're going to stay for the
funeral, why don't you stay with me?

Thank you, Alice. I will.

I made a promise to your grandmother,
and I'm gonna do my best to keep it.

- Alice, I'm sorry.
- What are you doin' here, Sam?

I was goin' through
Grandma's strongbox

before those religious
hypocrites got to it.

And I found it.
Everything's gonna be fine.

Found what?

Grandma's new will. She cut
off Willie John without a red cent.

But I thought she specifically
wanted Willie John...

May I look?

It's all legal. Dated
yesterday. Signed by Grandma.

This leaves everything to the
family— To you and me and Harvey.

Damn right. And
witnessed by Ethel.

Wait till that D.A. sees this.

See, Grandma signed this
before she died of that heart attack.

Heart attack?

He left in such
a hurry last night,

maybe he doesn't know
what really happened.

I'm sorry. The district
attorney is in an

important conference
and cannot be disturbed.

That's right, Mrs. Fletcher.

Sam McKittrick came to see
me first thing this morning.

What exactly is your
interest in this matter?

Well, Carrie was very
dear to me, Mr. Whittaker,

and perhaps if I'd stayed in her
room last night, she'd still be alive.

Oh, yes. Uh...

We have a very delicate
situation here, Mrs. Fletcher.

Yes, I know. You're between
a rock and a hard place...

The hard place being
the McKittrick Oil interests,

and the rock being
Willie John Fargo.

District attorney of Cherokee
Flats is an elective post.

Now, half the people in this
county work for the McKittricks,

and the other half are
members of Willie John’s church.

But I'm sure that won't deter you from
giving your full attention to the case.

Well, rest assured, Miss Carrie's
death is my highest priority.

Well, that's good. What
have you found out so far?

I mean, were there
fingerprints on the hypodermic?

We're checking it out. The medical
examiner says it was cyanide poisoning,

all right, shot through
the intravenous tube.

Probably with that hypodermic
needle that you found.

Into the I.V. tube? Well,
that means that the poison...

must have taken some
time to get into her system.

Yes. The medical examiner
says up to half an hour.

Did you ask Sam McKittrick
about the cyanide syringe?

He says he never saw it.

Hang it all, Mrs.
Fletcher. You can't arrest a

man for just going to
visit his sick grandmother.

- I suppose he also told you about
the new will that he found?
- [Earl] What new will?

Why, Earl, it seems Sam
McKittrick found a new will.

He left a copy with me. I
guess you're entitled to see it.

This leaves everything
to the McKittricks.

Excuse me. May I take a
look at that for a moment?

I had a letter last
month from Carrie.

Oh.

Isn't that curious? The
signatures don't match.

What?

You can see the signature on
the will is clearly a very crude copy.

She's right. This is a forgery.

Obviously typed in haste,
and only one witness.

All right! I typed
the will last night,

and I took it down to the
clinic for Grandma's signature.

She wouldn't wake up, so I— I
put the pen in her hand and...

- And signed it for her.
- Did you expect me to stand by...

and do nothin' while that oily tongued
preacher robbed us of everythin'?

[Whispers] [Clears
Throat] Uh, Harvey...

It, uh—It seems that
I've got no choice...

but to file charges against, uh,

Sam.

Because of a little
piece of paper?

Why, it ain't even legal.
You said so yourself.

- I think that Mr. Whittaker was referring
to a murder charge, Mr. McKittrick.
- Murder?

You were there, and the forged will
does give you a pretty good motive.

Fred, you file charges
against my boy,

and I'll see to it that you're not
even elected dogcatcher come spring.

Seems to me you
oughta be tryin' to find out

why Mama was murdered
in Willie John’s clinic.

That's what we
got you elected for.

Come on, Sam.

[Door Closes]

Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, my goodness,
Dr. Brady. You gave me a start.

I thought I was watching you operating.
It's hard to tell with these masks.

I just finished in the
other operating room.

Sometimes I feel like I spend half
my life with a scalpel in my hand.

Yes, I understand that you were
operating last night when Carrie died.

Was there something you
wanted to see me about?

Oh, yes. About the
hypodermic needle.

I suppose a hospital like
this has hundreds of them.

Thousands. It's a
prepackaged insulin syringe...

for diabetics who have to inject
themselves on a daily basis.

I see. Was Carrie diabetic?

No.

Mrs. Fletcher, a lot
of people are diabetic,

and it would be against
medical ethics to discuss

the status of any
patient that I'm treating.

- Yes, of course.
- Dr. Brady, could you sign
these orders, please?

[Woman On P.A.,
Indistinct] Thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher, it's been a
pleasure chatting with you.

Thank you.

What a marvelous
doctor. And so dedicated.

Oh, yes. He's here all hours of the day,
seven days a week, except for Wednesdays.

Oh, yes. All doctors pick
Wednesdays to play golf.

Oh, no, not this one.
He spends the entire day

out at the clinic on
the Indian reservation.

Sue Beth, I hope you won't
misunderstand this question,

but didn't I see you come
out of Carrie's room last night?

You may have. I checked
on her about every 15 minutes.

And you didn't see Sam
McKittrick there? No.

Mrs. Fletcher, I'm sorry,
but I really do have to leave.

Oh, of course. I can
see by the nurses'

schedule, I'm chatting
away your meal break.

Bye-bye.

[Willie John] Now we've
got the McKittrick Oil money.

I say we move ahead with the
Willie John Fargo University now.

Willie John, you really don't
have any idea what's involved here.

Okay, Earl, you tell me.

All right. The will will
be in probate for a year.

And sure as hellfire, the
McKittricks are gonna fight it in court.

We may not see
a penny for years.

Willie John, you gotta stop spendin'
that money faster than you rake it in.

Excuse me. They
said I'd find you here.

Miss Jessica, how nice
of you to pay us a call.

Have you met my brother,
Earl, the brains in the family?

Yes, we met briefly last night.

Mrs. Fletcher, excuse me.

Well, Miss Jessica,
this is a real pleasure.

You know, I had a powerful
feeling we would meet again.

Actually, I've been anxious.

Anxious? Of course
you're anxious.

Let me help you find
peace in your troubled soul.

Well, what troubles
me, Reverend Fargo,

is Carrie's murder,
and to be honest,

her leaving all
her money to you.

Bequeathing her vast resources to
the work of the Electric Cathedral...

was her fervent last
wish, I assure you.

Yes, she said as much to me.

She was very taken
with you, Reverend.

Please, call me Willie John.

I guess I just needed to satisfy myself
that she wasn't being taken advantage of.

I respect that, Miss Jessica.
Let me put your mind at ease.

You saw the
hospital we've built.

Do you know that we have three
clinics out on the Indian reservation,

and our Tulsa mission feeds 400
hungry street people every day?

The scope of our work is
enormous, and that all takes money.

You know where most of it
comes from? From the little people—

The hardscrabble dirt farmers,

the oil folks toiling
on the oil rigs,

the children, the widows,
the old folks with pensions.

I ask 'em to give, give again,
give until it hurts, and they do!

Being a part of the glorious
work of the Electric Cathedral...

It provides them with
dignity and hope and pride.

What does it provide
you, Willie John?

That's a fair question.

Now and again, some
doubting Thomas raises a fuss...

about the jet plane,
the limousines.

But if you've got a big job to do, you
better have the best tools you can buy.

Miss Jessica, I'd like
you to have a look around.

Unfortunately, I have to meet a
delegation from Durango, Mexico...

trying to get a new well put in.

But Sister Ruth can
give you the tour.

My goodness, Ruth!

This is very impressive.

Look at all those computers.

Why, you've even got
your own post office.

Yes. It's his life.

It must be a very
busy life for you too.

Exhausting. Sometimes
I wonder. Wonder what?

If I'm strong
enough for all this.

These are our living quarters.

Please, do go in.

I've got some tea
for us. Unbelievable!

When you said "apartment," I
never expected anything like this.

Willie John takes great
pleasure in beautiful things.

Thank you, Elsie.

Do sit down.

Unfortunately, his work consumes
him, so he has little time for much else.

Indeed, and it looks like those poor folks
are gonna have themselves a new well.

Well, Miss Jessica, did
Sister Ruth show you around?

Oh, my, yes, and
I'm very impressed.

This is an incredibly
well organized operation.

You oughta see
some of our fieldwork.

Sister Ruth, come
Wednesday, Thank you.

Why don't you take Mrs.
Fletcher out to the, uh, reservation?

She spends every Wednesday
caring for the young ones...

out at one of the
Indian school's clinics.

- Oh, how interesting.
- Sister Ruth finds it both...

spiritually uplifting and
professionally fulfilling.

You know, a few years ago,
in London, I came down sick,

and there she was— this angel
of mercy, name of Sister Ruth.

Just like being home
among my flock. [Chuckles]

Yes, he was quite ill. That's
when they discovered the diabetes.

- Something wrong, Miss Jessica?
- Oh, no, no. Not at all.

I was just a little surprised. You
appear to be in such good health.

Well, I am. I am, indeed.

I inject myself daily
with a dose of insulin...

A gift from the Lord above—to help
control this burdensome affliction.

Not that I feel the Lord
has singled me out.

No, indeed.

In fact, I would say there are
hundreds, perhaps thousands...

right here in the Tulsa
area who suffer as I do.

Wouldn't you say, Sister Ruth?
Oh, yes, Willie John. I would say so.

Reverend Fargo, as you know,

Carrie was a dear
friend of mine.

I—I hope you won't mind
if I ask you a question.

Where were you between midnight
and 12:30 on the night that Carrie died?

I take no offense,
Miss Jessica. I only wish

I were free to divulge
that information.

- My husband was home.
- Hush now, Ruth.

I regret that I cannot answer that
question without violating a trust.

I'm sure you understand.

No, Reverend Fargo,
I'm afraid I don't.

Excuse me. Miss Jessica.

Surely you cannot believe I had anything
to do with that dear woman's death?

At the moment, I don't
quite know what to believe.

Of course I knew that Willie
John Fargo is a diabetic.

So are hundreds of other people in
this county. It doesn't mean a thing.

So I was just told. But they are
not going to inherit McKittrick Oil.

Look, we have a very
sensitive situation here.

I realize that you have to be
circumspect, but certainly the police...

The police? The chief and half
his staff just went on sick leave.

Seven county judges
applied for vacation yesterday!

- Oh, yes, I see. Leaving
you— - Leaving me

holding a sackful of
diamondback rattlers.

- Well, still and all, Mr. Whittaker—
- Ma'am, if I knew for sure...

And I mean for sure— Miss
Carrie's killer, I would do my duty.

Well, then, let's
look at the facts.

Now, we know that someone
put cyanide into Carrie's I.V. tube...

between midnight and 12:30.

We also know that
Sam had an opportunity.

You keep making a point of that.

Yeah, but he wasn't the only one. I
mean, there was an exit down the hall...

from Carrie's room that
leads down to the parking lot.

It was late, almost nobody around. Somebody
could have come in from the outside...

and have gotten into her room
without even being noticed.

- All right. Who?
- Didn't you tell me...

that there were
fingerprints on that syringe?

I sent 'em to the F.B.I.
We're waiting to hear.

Yeah, well, what puzzles me most
is that a massive dose of insulin...

would almost certainly be fatal to
someone who'd had a heart attack.

A-Are you a doctor or something?

Uh, writing murder mysteries
almost qualifies me, believe me.

But, now, if insulin
has been used, it would

not have been detected
in a postmortem.

There'd be no suspicion of murder.
The death would seem perfectly natural.

But, no, someone removes
the insulin, substitutes cyanide.

Now, Mr. Whittaker, it's
as if someone had wanted...

Carrie's murder to be discovered,
and the question is, why?

♪ [Organ]

She always used to say,
"Hold my wake in that parlor,

and make sure everybody comes."

I know it's an old tradition
and everything, but...

I don't know. It just makes
me a little squeamish.

Well, you know, I think
it's rather a nice custom.

It gives everybody a
chance to say good-bye.

I suppose. Ethel, let's—
[Continues, Indistinct]

May I make you a drink?
Oh, not right now, thank you.

[Sighs] I appreciate your
helping out, Mrs. Fletcher. Oh.

Now, fact is, I'm gonna have
to pull out of here in awhile.

I got some— Some
work to attend to.

Oh, business on
a night like this?

Well, bringin' in a new
well is like birthin' a calf.

You never know when
it's gonna happen,

but you better be
there when it does.

I been out there
every night this week.

Oh, my goodness. Even the
night of Carrie's heart attack?

Oh, I went right out to those fields
after you run us out of the hospital.

Oh, that's strange. Alice said that she'd
spent the evening with you at your house.

Well, uh, yes,
actually, uh, ma'am.

As—As I recall, uh,

when I got home,
Alice was waitin' for me,

and I could tell from her eye that
she'd had a little spat with Sam.

Didn't mean much. Just two
young kids blowin' off some steam.

Really? I got the impression it,
uh, was a little more than that.

Do you remember exactly what
time you got back from the oil field?

Oh, I don't know.

12:30. Maybe 1:00.

Now, ma'am, I hope
you ain't suggestin'...

that I had anything to
do with Carrie's death,

because the fact of the
matter is, you'd be dead wrong.

Now, uh, maybe we
weren't blood related,

but, uh, she was a real
mama to me for most of my life.

Good night, ma'am.

Willie John, uh, I
think I'll wait outside.

I'm not sure I'm up to
facin' the McKittricks.

Earl, come here.

I guess they never taught
you this in college, little brother.

No matter what they're sayin'
about you, you always face 'em down.

The narrower the path,
the broader the smile.

Don't tell me.

Either he's the smartest
Okie in the state...

or the dumbest millionaire
west of the Ozarks.

Earl, how can you talk that
way about your own brother?

Come on, Ruth. Where
would he be without me?

Still pickin' up nickels in a tinplate
under some threadbare revival tent.

You may not have noticed,
but he's not in a tent anymore.

He's got his hands
on McKittrick Oil.

McKittrick Oil goes straight
to the church, Sister Ruth,

not to Brother John.

I made sure of
that. Good evening.

Mrs. Fletcher, you'll
pardon me, ma'am,

but you always seem to be
poppin' up at the strangest times.

Earl, your manners.

Willie John told me about
your conversation earlier,

and I consider it the
poorest of manners...

to accuse a man of
God of the sin of murder.

Oh, I made no
accusation, Mr. Fargo.

Pardon me while
I pay my respects.

I'm so sorry. Oh,
that's quite all right.

Despite what you heard, he
and Willie John are very close.

I think Earl really is afraid that
Willie John might have, um...

Excuse me.

Oh, good evening, Mrs.
Fletcher. It's a nice wake, isn't it?

Oh, yes.

Are—Are you looking for someone?

Well, I just noticed that
Sam McKittrick isn't here.

Tammy Lee, what in Sam
Hill did you do to your hair?

It's only sprayed
on, Mr. Whittaker.

I'm goin' to a dance. I'll wash it
out before I come in in the morning.

The report from the F.B.I.
came in just as I was leaving,

and I thought you'd
want to see it right away.

Excuse me, Tammy Lee.

It's been a time of
testing for all of us.

Excuse me. Willie
John? Yes, Fred?

Willie John, I hate to interrupt a
man of God while he's at work,

but, uh, looks like I gotta...

You sound like a man
with a heavy burden, Fred.

Well, the way it is...

I-I finally got this, uh, back
from the F.B.I., and, uh...

Hang it all, Willie
John. The fingerprints...

on the murder syringe
turns out to be yours.

Well, now, Fred, they tell me the
guilty party was in Sister Carrie's room...

sometime between
12:00 and 12:30.

During that time, I was giving
spiritual comfort to one of my flock.

Oh, well, if you could tell
us who that someone was...

I'm afraid I can't
do that, Fred.

- I'd be violating a sacred trust.
- Come on, now, Willie John.

Believe in me as you would
in the Lord. I give you my word.

Oh, I wanna believe
in you, believe me.

It's just that, well, a grand
jury is liable to want more.

No, Willie John.

It was me, Mr. Whittaker.
Willie John was with me.

[Murmuring]

- Is—Is that so?
- You were with my husband at midnight?

You were supposed to
be on your dinner break.

We were in the chapel.

Willie John was
ministering to my needs.

Oh, well, if— If you
and Willie John...

were both in the chapel
together, well, then,

someone else must've
poisoned Miss Carrie.

Oh, but, Mr. Whittaker, it's quite
simple to get from the chapel...

to Carrie's room without
passing the nurses' station,

by way of the exit staircase.

Sue Beth, I'm sure that
you used those stairs...

when you left the chapel
to go to Carrie's room?

No. I was with Willie John in the
chapel between 12:00 and 12:30.

Oh, but I'm sure that I saw you leave
Carrie's room just minutes before she died.

I never left the chapel,
and neither did Willie John.

We were talking the whole time.

Talking. That's all.

I've been having an affair
with one of the interns and—

Hush, child. There's
no need to explain.

I'd better go see
if she's all right.

Mrs. Fletcher, I don't get it.

If his fingerprints were
on the murder syringe,

he had to be the one
who snuffed her, right?

Dear heaven! How stupid of me!

Don't worry, Ruth.
Everything's gonna be all right.

They'll never find a jury that'll
convict Willie John, not in this county.

Nor should they, Mr. Fargo.

Your brother did not
kill Carrie McKittrick.

Are you sure about
that, lady? Yes, I am now.

Because the killing was committed by
someone who wanted to make it appear...

that Willie John
was responsible.

Somebody framed
Willie John? Of course.

It was the McKittricks.
They wanted to break the will.

No, it was someone close
to Willie John. Very close.

Someone who knew that he was a
diabetic and knew that it would come out.

Someone who had access to the syringes
that he used every day and discarded.

Someone who thought that
he wouldn't have an alibi.

That's ridiculous.
I love my husband.

Do you? Haven't you
been meeting another man,

secretly, once a
week, on Wednesdays,

at the Indian
reservation clinic?

- Ruth!
- Oh, Earl, don't be so ridiculous.

Carrie wasn't so much a murder victim
as much as she was a means to an end,

and I suppose that's what
makes this so hard to accept.

I mean, a smart killer would
have injected Carrie with insulin,

so the murder would
not have been detected.

But you wanted the
murder discovered, Ruth,

and you made sure that the
clues pointed to your husband.

- No.
- When I first met you,

I assumed "Sister Ruth"
had a religious connotation.

But when you said that you'd
met Willie John in London...

when he'd had a diabetic
attack, it made me wonder...

if the term "sister” might not refer
to your former vocation— a nurse?

It would have been simple to find a
uniform in the locker room downstairs...

and washable hair color spray.

The kind Mr. Whittaker's
secretary wears...

is available at any
all-night drug store.

If anyone had seen
you from a distance,

they'd have mistaken
you for Sue Beth.

You even wore gloves so
that Willie John’s fingerprints...

would still be on the syringe.

Ruth, why?

Did you do it for Willie John?

For Willie John? No.

I did it to Willie John.

Or I tried to.

I had to be free of him, but
that meant destroying him totally.

I tried to tell you,
Mark. I couldn't.

As much as I know you love me,
you could've never understood.

Willie John was crushing
me, Mrs. Fletcher,

wringing the life out of me
with his sanctimonious piety.

I'm a woman, and every day
I've been getting older and older,

living like some plaster saint.

The dutiful wife of the great
and good Willie John Fargo.

What was I supposed
to do? Divorce him?

Oh, my God. Can you
just see the headlines?

Or kill him?

That would have thrust me
into an even more untenable role.

The keeper of
Willie John’s flame...

living in chastity for
the rest of my years.

[Willie John] Ruth.

Why didn't you tell me?

I did, Willie John,

every day, in a
hundred different ways,

but you were always
too busy to hear.

I'm so glad you
got to see Carrie.

I only wish it could've been
under happier circumstances.

- I'd like a word, Miss Alice.
- You got your nerve comin' here.

We're taking that will all the way
to the Supreme Court, Willie John.

That won't be necessary, Harvey.

I'll never be able to make
amends for what Ruth did,

but at least I can set
matters right regarding

Sister Carrie's last
will and testament.

In honor of the generous and
good-hearted woman that she was,

I've established
the Carrie McKittrick

Foundation in lasting
tribute to her memory.

What? With her money?

Since I won't have anything
to do with runnin' it, Harvey,

I knew you and Sam would
be real fond of the idea.

What in the name of heaven is he
talkin' about? Shut up, boy. Let me think.

Makes you feel real proud
bein' a benefactor to the people.

It'll just take some
gettin' used to.

Bless you, boys.

Come on, Sam.

You didn't have to
do that, you know.

Well, Miss Jessica, I've
had to do some hard thinking.

I failed Ruth.

Seems like I lost my direction
somewhere along the line.

Raising all that money
doesn't seem so important now.

Really? What will you do then?

I've decided to go
away for awhile...

to Africa, Asia, South America,

anyplace the simple
folks need me.

Well, I wish you
luck, Willie John,

and I hope that you find
what you're looking for.

Oh, I will, Miss Jessica. I will,
indeed, the good Lord willing.