Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 2, Episode 19 - Christopher Bundy - Died on Sunday - full transcript

Jessica is unhappy her nephew accountant Grady Fletcher's new employer is the publisher Christopher Bundy, who just purchased the magazine Literary Lines which is to run one of her stories and transformed it from classy content to 'centerfold' thrash. When they visit him in the villa where he lives with his sister Rachel and her son Tony and daughter Vanessa from different marriages, Bundy convinces her to stay the night and meet with his lawyers and assures her the security cameras record only images, no sound, and not in bedrooms. Jessica convinces the magazine's broke original publisher Chester Harrison, kept on as figurehead, to put on a fight for its respectability. Then Bundy is shot dead inside, in a camera-dead angle. Detective Lt. Greco just suspects Chester, Jessica and Grady at first the butler but he's really undercover after Bundy's criminal family, then dig deeper. The sister inherits the empire and proves a shark herself, with Vanessa as right-hand. Then Jessica sees trough the killer's alibi.

My first short story in a girlie
magazine? Good heavens!

[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote.

There's a great book in
this family, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Bundy Publications represent exposure.
- They certainly do.

I'll see you rot in Hades before
you get my publishing house, Bundy!

- [Gasps]
- He's dead.

Are you telling
me the butler did it?

We don't know what we're dealing with,
and, until we do, you do as I tell you.

As soon as your nephew returns,
I want you both off my property.

Get Lieutenant Greco
and bring him back here.

I think I've figured out
who killed Mr. Bundy.



[Man] Uh-huh, right.

No, I don't think so.

Oh, yes, I do understand.

I disagree.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Oh, yes. Yes.

Well, let's not complicate a
simple thing, Mr. Harrison.

You owe me the money
that you borrowed.

It's Friday evening. If the money's
not repaid by 8:00 p.m. Sunday,

I own your publishing company.

Good night.

[Sighs] Bert.

Yes, sir?

Chester Harrison seems to be having
a hard time understanding the situation.



Pay him a visit.

Clear things up.

Right.

[Clears Throat]

Something?

The Fletcher woman—
She called six times today.

I spoke to the lawyers.

Her contract locks her in.

She won't be a problem.

Literary Lines Monthly—
Now there is a misnomer.

Anatomical maybe.
Literary? Never.

Aunt Jess, believe
me. I had no idea.

Oh, Grady. My first short
story in a girlie magazine?

Look. Most of the staff is
ready to quit, me included.

Literary Monthly's
always been a class act.

I mean, selling it to Christopher
Bundy. Who— Nobody knew. Honest.

Well, Christopher Bundy—
I mean, that man has

made a fortune pandering
to people's weaknesses.

What if he isn't home?

We'll try again on our way
back from Poughkeepsie.

Oh, by the way. Thanks,
Grady, for coming with me.

I hope this isn't interfering with
any plans you had for the weekend.

Oh. You mean Cynthia?

Well, actually, we're not
seeing each other anymore.

Oh?

As a matter of fact, Aunt
Jess, I'm reformed. Really?

Yeah. No more falling
in love again at first sight.

From now on, I'm gonna take my
time and get to know someone first...

and then commit myself.

Thank you.

Mr. Bundy is expected back from
the city momentarily, Mr. Fletcher.

May I get something for
you or, uh, your mother?

Uh, his aunt. And, no,
thank you. Very good, ma'am.

[Shutter Clicking]
[Grady] Oh, my. Wow.

Well, I see your new resolution hasn't
dimmed your eyesight any, Grady.

What? Hmm?
[Helicopter Approaching]

Mr. Bundy!

Hello, Millicent. Hi, Mr. Bundy.

Finish the session?
Well, no, not yet, but...

Get back to the grind, honey.
Time is money. Time is money.

But, Mr. Bundy, the cement
by the swimming pool is so hot...

that my feet are—ow—
Starting to get blis— Hello! Hello!

With what I pay you, buy a
case of ointment. Mr. Bundy?

Mr. Bundy. Yes. How
nice to see you again.

Mr. Bundy. I'm Jessica Fletcher.

[Horse Neighs In Distance]

[Chuckles] Mrs. Fletcher.
What a delightful surprise.

I wasn't expecting to see you.

I'm sure you weren't. You know, if
you had returned my telephone calls,

this intrusion would not
have been necessary.

My apologies, dear lady. It seems everybody
always needs my immediate attention.

What I have to say won't
take long. Believe me.

Nonsense. Now that you're
here, we'll have a nice long chat...

Just as soon as I clear up a
few tedious business details.

I am honored that you came.

But— This is Bert Yardley,
my executive assistant.

Show Mrs. Fletcher around.
Introduce her to the family.

We'll get together
just as soon as I'm free.

Well, Mr. Yardley,
apparently we're all yours.

Just call me Bert.
This way, please.

Now watch this. I'm ready.

Okay. Oh! Close enough.
Let me just finish...

It's my turn now.
We'll edit it later on.

Rachel. Bert.

Oh, that's enough.

What are you doing here?

Excuse me, but, uh, Mr. Bundy
wanted you to meet Mrs. Jessica Fletcher.

Her nephew, Grady.

He works for the company.
Hello. Rachel Bundy.

Delighted to meet
you. How do you do?

You're the writer, aren’t
you? Yes, I'm afraid I am.

I thought so.
Christopher collects them.

Oh. My children. Vanessa.

And the cameraman is my son,
Antonio. [No Audible Dialogue]

Now, I'm confused.
Your children?

I keep reading that your husband's
the country's most eligible bachelor.

My husband? Oh, no, no.

I'm Christopher's sister. I'm afraid
I do all the marrying in this family.

- Two marriages—two children.
- My uncle's much too busy
to raise a family of his own,

so he settles for us.

[Millicent] Ow, ow, ow.

Great. Ow, ow, ow.

Ouch. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Ooh! Great. I'm not gonna
be able to walk for a week.

You need some help
with that? Would you?

I know you.

You're from around the office,
aren’t you? I'm Grady Fletcher.

I work in Accounting.
It's kinda dull.

[Laughs] Working with
all that money? No way.

Mother, please take your shot.
I'm tired of holding this camera.

Excuse me.

Excuse me also. I'll let you
know when he can see you.

So, would you like
something to drink?

Oh, that would be nice.
Do you have any ginger ale?

[Laughs] Enough
to take a bath in.

Actually, I hate the stuff.

It's just that my doctor gave my liver
only six more months unless I shape up. Oh.

So, is it true that writers
come up with their ideas...

by watching the
world around them?

Well, some do.

Well, keep your eyes open.

There's a great book in
this family, Mrs. Fletcher...

Like something out
of Eugene O'Neill.

You could call it Long
Day’s Journey into Oblivion.

Excuse me.

This should interest you— the
complete works of Conan Doyle.

All first editions—priceless.

You must read a great deal.
No. Who has time? I collect.

These things are an
investment. Better than gold.

Oh, yes. Mr. Bundy—
Please, have a seat.

Thank you. Can
I get you a drink?

Uh, no, thank you.

Oh. I'm sorry.

That afternoon sun
can be blinding. Here.

That better? Yes,
much better. Thank you.

Now, can we get
down to business?

Of course.

Let me see if I can
cut to the bottom line.

You are incensed at the idea...

of one of your stories
appearing in a magazine...

sprinkled with photos of
unclothed young ladies.

Am I close? Dead on target.

[Laughing] Oh. Mrs. Fletcher,
over the past 10 years,

my various magazines have featured
most of America’s prize-winning authors.

- Bundy Publications represent exposure.
- They certainly do.

Mr. Bundy, I contracted
to write this story...

for a certain type of magazine.

Yes. Proper, stuffy and dull.

I bought Literary
Lines to change all that.

Well, no one can say
that you're not trying.

Well, now look, I'm not familiar
with the details of your contract,

but I would be happy
to call my attorneys.

- There must be something we can do.
- What you can do is to tear it up.

Now, I must be on my way.
Oh, no. Please. It's late in the day.

I would be honored if you'd
spend the night as my guest.

I'm sorry, but I'm visiting old friends
in Poughkeepsie over the weekend.

You're not afraid,
are you? Afraid?

Well, that you might
get to know me,

that I might destroy all
those stereotypical notions...

buzzing around in that
pretty head of yours.

I was always told J.B. Fletcher
was an independent woman...

who makes up her
own mind about things.

[Laughs] Mr. Bundy, don't you
think that's a rather obvious ploy?

Well, obvious maybe, but valid.

See, if you stay
overnight, you'll be here

in the morning when
I talk to my attorneys.

Yes. Yes, I suppose I could call them
and say that I would arrive tomorrow.

Please use the phone. I'll
even give you some privacy.

Privacy, Mr. Bundy?

Uh, that's one of the surveillance cameras
I had installed to protect my estate.

Oh, we also have guards
who watch everything.

But picture only. No sound.

Oh, and, uh, no.

There are none in the bedrooms.

I'll see you at
dinner, Mrs. Fletcher.

Looking forward to
a delightful evening.

[Door Opens, Closes]

[Object Clatters]

Hi. Oh, hi.

Are your feet still bothering
you? Oh, I think they'll live.

If I can just figure out how to get
my shoe on. Can I lean on you?

Oh, sure. Thanks.

Oh, my goodness. You
wear glasses. What? Me?

Oh, no. Oh, yes, you do.

You've got those cute little marks on
the side of your nose— there and there.

I just love a man who
wears glasses. You do?

Mm-hmm.

Well, actually, uh, I do.

[Laughs] Yeah.

Mmm.

[Chattering]

Ah, Millicent. We wondered
what happened to you.

- Actually, sir— - Grady was just
helping me to get dressed, Mr. Bundy.

With her shoe.

Sir, there's a Mr. Harrison
at the door. He...

- You bastard!
- Chester, how nice of you.

- I'll see you rot in Hades before
you get my publishing house!
- Come on, pal!

This isn't the time. Good
as any. Let go of me.

Bert, it's all right.

- Chester, why don't we go into the study
and discuss this quietly like gentlemen?
- Gentlemen. Don't flatter yourself.

Uh, excuse us, please.

Chester, if there's some sort of
misunderstanding, we'll clear it up.

[Laughing]

Dear Uncle Christopher.

- He has such a marvelous knack
for winning friends.
- That's enough, Antonio.

[Jessica] Grady?

What is it? I can't find Millie.

We were talking, and she left to go
do something. And now she's gone.

Well, after modeling all
day, maybe she went to bed,

which is what I'm going to do as
soon as I get a book from the library.

I guess you're right. Good night,
Aunt Jess. Good night, Grady.

Oh, and remember
your timetable. Hmm?

About falling
hopelessly in love.

Oh. Right. Sure. You bet.

[Door Opens]

Mrs. Fletcher?

I don't know if you remember me.

Oh, but of course
I do. Mr. Harrison.

We met at the Houston Book
Fair. You have a good memory.

Frankly, I'm surprised
to see you here.

Well, the surprise is mutual.

I understand that we're crossing
swords with the same man.

Yes, and I hope you fare
better than I have so far.

Yes. What was
that scene all about?

I'm afraid he's got
my publishing house.

He's been trying— Wait.

I suggest that we— [Clears Throat]
talk with our backs to that thing.

[On Speaker] Who knows? There
may be a lip-reader at the other end.

What was that about
your publishing house?

[Harrison, Sighing] Well, it's an old
story— trite and a little embarrassing.

I publish enough books about
the peccadillos of middle-aged men.

I should have known better.

Good wine doesn't come
cheap, Mrs. Fletcher.

Neither do bad women.
I borrowed heavily.

From Bundy? Oh, Lord, no.

But he bought up my notes
from the factoring house.

Naturally, I couldn't
get an extension.

Monday, I lose everything—
Unless I'm willing to play his game.

Which is? Stay
on as a figurehead.

My name still means something
in the business, but not for long.

He invited me to spend
the night and sleep on it.

But surely you couldn't
consider that proposition?

What else can I do? Fight.

Hire the best lawyer that
you can. Tie him up in court.

Go public— Anything
to get him to back off.

By God, madam. You're right.

What would Hemingway do? He'd
offer no compromise. That's what.

You know, for the first time in
weeks, I may get some sleep.

[Playing Tennis]

Thank you. Oh.

Good morning. Oh, good
morning, Mrs. Fletcher.

I trust you spent a comfortable
night. Yes, thank you.

Actually, I dreamt that I was being
chased by a surveillance camera.

[Laughing] Well, I'm
sorry you lost sleep over it.

Believe me. They're not there
for spying. Only there to protect.

I'm going to shower, and, after breakfast,
we'll have that chat with the lawyers.

Thanks for the
workout, Vanessa. Good.

He always thanks me when he
beats me in straight sets. [Chuckles]

Well, I'm glad to see I'm not the
only one who hates those cameras.

Actually, it is a
terrific system.

I may not feel comfortable
here, but I do feel safe.

You ought to take a look at it. I bet it'd
be a great gimmick for one of your books.

Thanks. I may do just that.

Hello, Mrs. Fletcher.
Uh, Pete Morgan.

I spend most of my time
watching these things,

which is why I know you
even if you don't know me.

Of course. Just getting
my usual cup of java.

It's always quiet
this time on Sundays.

Well, it's nice to
meet you, Pete.

You've got quite a
setup here. It's the best.

Oh. There he goes.

- I swear, that man has got a bottle
stashed in every room in the house.
- [Jessica Chuckles]

Don't ever get downwind of him.

And that young lady— she
makes the library her second home.

I get the impression
she's quite an avid reader.

What's she up to now? I
doubt that she's speed-reading.

[Clattering] She sure
is making a mess.

[Gunshot]

Aunt Jess, you all right?

Yes, Grady. I'm—I'm fine.

- [Gasps]
- He's dead.

Come on, Mama. Let
me take you to your room.

No. Everybody stays together.

- You don't give the orders here.
- Look, sonny!

We don't know what we're dealing with,
and, until we do, you do as I tell you.

All of you. Morgan,
close the gate.

Check the fence. Search
every inch of the property. Now.

Right. What are you
waiting for, Jensen?

Move. Yes, sir.

The rest of you—
In the living room.

Come on. Let's go.

Madam!

[Tapping]

[Phone Ringing]

[Continues Ringing]

What are you afraid
of, Bert? A hit man?

[Laughing] I mean, hasn't
it even occurred to you...

that it's much more
likely one of us did it?

- Vanessa.
- Oh, Mother, please.

We all had our
reasons, even you.

Well, especially you.

Two husbands you barely even got
to know before Uncle Christopher...

That's enough.

I think Vanessa's
got the right idea.

You lousy ingrate. He
raised you like a son.

Wasn't me, Bert.

I was playing
tennis with Millicent.

We both heard the shot.

[Rachel] I was in
the dining room.

[Vanessa]And I was
out walking in the garden.

Excuse me. But I believe I saw you in
the library when your uncle was killed.

- You're wrong.
- Well, then the security officer
is also mistaken.

- [Whispering, Indistinct]
- We both saw you.

Oh. Oh, you mean when
the shot was actually fired.

I'm sorry. I was confused. You
see, I was out walking in the garden.

Then I came in. [Bert] What's
all this yammering about?

I know who the
killer is— Harrison.

The gate guard just saw him
racing outta here like a bat outta hell.

Chester Harrison?
Oh, no, Mr. Yardley.

Madam.

- The police have arrived.
- Who the hell called the cops?

[Exhales]

Get some good shots of his face.
I want everybody to recognize him.

You got a question? No.

I'm just surprised you
got here in such a hurry.

What's your name?
Grady Fletcher.

One of the family?
No. I'm an accountant.

Stick around and
stay out of the way.

[No Audible Dialogue]

[Chattering]

[Chattering Continues]

Fletcher. Me?

My mother and I wanna see
the books as soon as possible.

Call the attorneys.

Look, for one thing, I
don't know your attorneys.

And another—don't you think
you're kind of rushing it a little?

We need strong people
to keep things in line.

You show us something
in the next few days,

and you've got a future
with my organization.

Your organization?
Me and my mother.

I chatted with some of the
servants. Vanessa's right.

This family lives
in dark shadows.

Rachel's first husband—
That's Antonio's father.

He was a fortune hunter.
He married her for her money.

Bundy sent some of his associates
to visit, and two weeks later...

his body was found floating in
the East River. [Grady] Nice family.

And Vanessa's father
didn't fare much better.

He committed suicide after
Bundy refused to help him out

of a financial predicament.
[Scoffs] No wonder she drank.

You know, Grady, what
really concerns me...

is Chester Harrison's sudden
departure right after Mr. Bundy was shot.

Oh, no. I don't think
Mr. Harrison would shoot anyone.

I wish I could be sure of that.

Last night, he was on the
verge of losing everything.

I told him not to quit, you know, to
fight for his company no matter what.

Well, that's the part
that frightens me...

The "no matter what" part.

Oh, no, no. He couldn't
have. I mean, he wouldn't.

But if he didn't, why
did he drive off like that?

Well, that's something I've
been wondering about all morning.

Oh, excuse me.

Uh, I'm sorry. Could I talk to you
for a minute, Grady? Alone, please.

Well, uh— I'm just leaving.

You know, it might
not hurt to go along with

Antonio's request,
Grady, about the books.

You might learn
something. Right.

I'm telling you. Nobody
saw it, Lieutenant.

He was shot in one
of the blind spots.

Some surveillance system.

Hey, pal, you probably drove right
by Harrison as he was getting away.

We got an A.P.B. out on
him. He won't get far. Hey.

Are you talking to me?

No, no. I'm conversing with the
man in the moon. Yeah, you, lady.

I just wanted to— I don't
care what you wanted.

No civilians clumpin' around,
messin' up with the evidence.

[Man] Harrison. Hold it.

Are you Chester
Harrison? That's right.

We've been looking for you. Yes, I just
heard. My car broke down about a mile...

Yeah, that's really
too bad. Now, look...

Sir. Not another word, not
until we've read you your rights.

In here, please. Hey, pal.

If you guys don't nail
him, I will personally.

Don't be so quick
to judge, Mr. Yardley.

There's nothing to tie
Mr. Harrison to the murder...

except the timing of his abrupt
departure from the house.

Oh, you think so, huh?
Let me tell you something.

Me and Harrison had a
little talk the other night.

I suggested he wise up and
cooperate before he lost everything.

It was a very constructive
meeting. You mean threatening.

Yeah, you could've taken it
that way. Harrison was scared.

But just before I
leave, he says to me.

"You know, someday someone's gonna
have the nerve to put a stop to that man."

I just never
figured it'd be him.

But surely you don't seriously believe
that a man like Chester Harrison...

A shot in the back?
Yeah, I believe it.

The boss and me went
back a lot of years, lady.

So understand one
thing real good...

Your pal Harrison,
he's a dead man.

Because if the cops
don't get him, I will.

[Chattering]

[Harrison] No.

What is it, Grady? Millicent wanted
to know about the Bundy estate...

You know, who
gets what and when.

Aunt Jess, I'm a
bookkeeper, not a lawyer.

Anyway, why should she
care? Why don’t you ask her?

I did. She just smiled.

Look, earlier, I was going by the
library and I saw the door was open,

and I saw something—
It might be a clue.

It's over here.

You see?

And look, there's
more under the chair.

You know, maybe the killer escaped through
the window after knocking over the candy.

That's a good thought,
Grady, but not a clue.

I saw Vanessa
accidentally knock the candy

onto the floor just
before the shot was fired.

No. The killer was
not an outsider,

but someone
staying in the house.

Jessica, you can't seriously
believe that I murdered that man?

Well, I don't want
to believe it, Chester,

but the police have a very
strong circumstantial case.

You were in the house. And
heaven knows you had the motivation.

And you ran away. I drove away.

Jessica, I did not kill him.
Well, then what did happen?

And why did you leave so
suddenly? To take your advice.

I was driving to the
city to see my lawyers.

But you must have heard the
shot. I guess I was outside by then.

[Sighs] Lord, I feel like a
character right out of Dostoyevsky.

Well, it's a little early to be wallowing
around in Russian angst. Now...

I've got a couple of things
that I'm gonna check out.

[Dog Barking]

This is the room that
Chester was staying in.

Whoa. But at the
time of the shooting,

he says he was outside
trying to get his car started.

That's what he says.

All right then. Now, there
are no surveillance cameras.

But— But what?

But there is also no sight
line to Bundy's bedroom.

Now, if Bundy left his bedroom
to come down to breakfast,

there's no possible way he could
have been seen from this doorway.

He was shot in the back.
No powder burns, right?

That's what I heard the
doctor tell Lieutenant Greco.

Aunt Jess.

It's another door.

It opens under the corridor.

Gee, I'm really
sorry, Aunt Jess.

But from this angle, there's no
way Harrison could have missed.

- [Sighs] - Thank
you very much, Mrs.

Fletcher. You've
really been very helpful.

Your theory practically nails
down the case against Harrison.

Well, I'm sorry, but proving
Chester guilty is not part of my theory.

Anybody could have
gotten into that corridor

or into that bathroom
and fired that shot.

Only somebody without an alibi.

Like I say—Chester Harrison.

Are you forgetting
Mr. Jensen? Who?

The, uh— Uh, the manservant.

The what? Who?

The butler. The butler.

[Laughing] Are you
telling me the butler did it?

Well, I'm only
suggesting— The butler.

With all due respect,
Mrs. Fletcher, this is

not another one of your
cockeyed whodunits.

Oh! Look, he was
behaving very strangely...

a couple of minutes
before the shot was heard.

I'll book 'im—strange
behavior in the first degree.

Yeah, I like it.
[Officer] Lieutenant.

We found this in the
laundry bin in the basement.

There's a chute in the corridor
near the top of the rear staircase.

Harrison must have dropped it
down the chute before he went out.

Ooh, I'm sorry. The butler.

Maybe we'll find his
fingerprints on the grip...

Really lock down
the case against him.

I doubt that you'll find
anyone's prints on it, Lieutenant.

The killer disposed of the
gun to avoid being found with it.

He wouldn't have been dumb
enough to leave his prints behind.

Chester!

Save it. We're bringing him in
for questioning anyway. [Sighs]

[Bert] Yeah. Yeah, I understand.

You're sure about that?

Listen, Ogilvy, don't start
yakkin' to me about proprieties.

You're workin' for us
now. You understand?

If you wanna keep makin' that
fancy retainer, you do what we tell you.

There's a few bucks in it
for me and your two kids.

But the lawyers say it's yours,
Rachel— The whole enchilada.

You know, Grady, if I don't
put together something soon,

Chester is gonna
land in jail permanently.

What I cannot understand is
Lieutenant Greco's reaction...

to my suspicions
about Mr. Jensen.

It's almost as if...

[Shutter Clicks]

Well, Mr. Jensen, I see that
photography is one of your many talents.

Uh, Mrs. Fletcher, this is
not exactly what it seems.

Well, then you won't mind telling
Lieutenant Greco exactly what it is.

No, that won't be necessary.

My name's Everett Jensen, Special
Agent with the Internal Revenue Service.

I called the police this morning
and informed Lieutenant

Greco of my identity
shortly after he arrived.

Uh, Mr. Jensen, I-I've only been
working for Mr. Bundy for a few months.

And the fact is— Relax,
Mr. Fletcher. We know you're clean.

And so's the magazine— One
of his few enterprises that is.

Mr. Jensen, I realize that Christopher
Bundy was a ruthless businessman,

but you're talking about
him as if he was a criminal.

I don't suppose you've ever
heard the name Carmine Bundiatti.

No. I'm sorry.

He was a third-rate hoodlum, a soldier
for one of the New Jersey families.

He never amounted to much, but his
offspring were made of sterner stuff...

And in particular, one grandson.

Christopher Bundy. That's right.

A new breed of gangster who
uses computers instead of guns...

to build their
financial empires.

They skirt the law, but
sometimes they slip—like Bundy did.

He tried to take too
much too publicly.

He was not a popular
fellow with us or anyone else.

Meaning he might have run afoul of some
of his grandfather's business associates.

You don't really buy
that possibility, do you,

Aunt Jess, about a hit
man? Oh, I certainly don't.

The problem is, everyone here's
got an alibi. Yeah, so it seems.

Grady, do me a favor.
Drive to the police station...

and find out if there's
anything we can do for Chester.

Sure. Oh, and
keep your ears open.

If the police have found out anything
new, I wanna know about it. Right.

No ice. Where
the hell is Jensen!

The last time I saw
him, he was tied up.

Mrs. Fletcher, you should
be in Poughkeepsie by now.

Yes. And Chester Harrison
should be on his way to New York,

which he's not because someone adroitly
managed to pin a murder charge on him.

Well, it's not me, as much
as I'd love to take credit.

Millie and I were playing tennis
when Uncle Chris bit the big one.

Yes, you told me before.

Yes. We heard the shot.
From the tennis court?

Mrs. Fletcher, do us
and yourself a big favor.

Poughkeepsie's that
way— Right at the gate.

Left onto the interstate. Tony!

Believe me, nothing would
give me greater pleasure,

but I am not in the habit of
running out on people in trouble.

Miss Moore, you were asking my nephew
about the details of Mr. Bundy's will.

Would you tell me why?

I was just curious. That's all.

About an inheritance?
Well, surely not for yourself.

I'm also not certain about
the reliability of an alibi...

that you two might
provide for each other.

But I saw them playing, Mrs.
Fletcher, when I was out walking.

Oh, yes, of course. That was
just before the shot was fired...

and right after you
entered the library.

You seem to have a fixation
about my presence in the library.

Yes, I do, Vanessa,
when you lie about it.

The security guard and I
both saw you on the monitor.

You were searching through books.
You even spilled a dish of candy.

You, Sis? You
killed Uncle Chris?

Oh, come on, Tony.
Of course I didn't.

I was looking for a letter.

From someone who
used to be very close...

Someone dear Uncle
Christopher chased out of my life.

I was reading in the
library a couple of days ago.

I heard him coming, so I
hid it in one of the volumes.

Then I just forgot which one.

Why didn't you
just tell us that?

My mother is very
much like my uncle.

She wants to plan
my future for me.

So you lied about the
library, and you lied about

your brother playing
tennis with Miss Moore.

We were playing
tennis, Mrs. Fletcher.

Less than 24 hours
after your feet were so

covered with blisters,
you could hardly walk?

[Door Opens, Closes]

Mrs. Fletcher.

The lady wants to
see you in the library.

Now. Come with me.

You'll be relieved to
learn, Mrs. Fletcher,

Literary Lines Monthly is no
longer interested in your story.

I take it that means
you'll be in charge.

Someone has to keep the flame.

I'm sorry your good luck carried
such an expensive price tag.

Why are you so concerned about my
brother's death? You didn't even know him.

And very honestly, if you had, I
doubt you'd have liked him very much.

Christopher played by a certain
set of rules, and he lost the game.

I don't intend to make
the same mistake.

My children are all
I've got, Mrs. Fletcher.

And I intend to see they get
more out of life than I ever did.

Antonio will be sitting
at my right hand.

Vanessa will be wealthy enough
and free enough of her past...

to attract a man who
can give her happiness.

A man of your
choosing, I presume.

She won't make the same
mistakes I made. Believe me.

Her father—my second
husband— Was weak.

He killed himself when my brother refused
to bail him out of a financial situation.

Oh, for years, my daughter
and I both blamed my brother.

But eventually I came to see the flaw
was my husband's, not Christopher's.

I cannot—I will not tolerate
weakness in myself or anyone else.

As soon as your nephew returns,
I want you both off my property.

That's all.

- Chester.
- They let him go, Aunt Jess.

Lack of evidence, they said. I
don't think I'm off the hook yet.

Where's Rachel?
Right here, Mr. Harrison.

The cops made a mistake
letting you go, Harrison.

You made even a bigger
one coming back here.

I didn't kill your
brother, Rachel.

My vices are many, but
homicide is not one of them.

Perhaps, perhaps not. Either
way, I want you out of my house.

You haven't heard why
I'm here. I'm prepared

to make you an
offer you can't refuse.

[Scoffing] Oh? And what's that?

To give you what I
wouldn't give your brother...

My experience, my
knowledge, my good name.

[Exhales] I haven't the stomach for a
fight, Rachel. I want to make a deal. Now.

Let me understand.

You're willing to stay on as figurehead
knowing I'll be giving the orders?

- That's right.
- Forget it, Rachel.

We don't need this
guy. Be quiet, Bert!

Why?

Because I have no choice.

The magazine is all I
have. It's all I've ever had.

I can't give it up.

Bert, take Mr. Harrison
out on the patio.

I'll join you in a minute.

I am sorry, Jessica.
I need them.

I believe I asked you
to leave, Mrs. Fletcher.

[Door Slams] I still don't like it, Aunt
Jess. I feel as if we're running out.

Well, it's no longer any
of our business, Grady.

Oh, dear. I'd better
return this to the library,

or they'll get an A.P.B. out
on me for "booknapping."

You pack up the car,
and I'll be right back. Okay.

Grady. Hi.

Didn't know you were leaving.
Yeah. By special invitation.

I'm gonna miss you. I
think you'll get over it.

Look, uh, I know that I've been acting
kind of funny around here lately, but...

Yeah, you could say that. Friendly
one moment, cold as ice the next.

But what do I care?

Hey, listen, I'm
really sorry. Fine.

It's just that I don't like
being mixed up in murder.

And your aunt...

Well, she caught
me in a little lie.

At the time of Mr. Bundy's death,
Antonio and I weren't playing tennis.

Hey, I really don't care. But we
were together, upstairs in my room.

And I'll swear to that if
I have to. Why tell me?

Because your aunt
seems to think that I had

something to do with
the murder, and I didn't.

I'm really sorry about coming on to you
the way that I did. It was lousy. I know.

But I didn't want Mr. Bundy to know what
was going on between Antonio and I, and...

And I was convenient, right?
And harmless. I didn't say that.

You didn't have to. Excuse me.

Good morning. Welcome to
Sunday Morning Press Forum.

I'm Chet Williams, and today I'll
be interviewing Mr. Harold Lansing,

an undersecretary in
the Defense Department.

Mr. Undersecretary— [VCR Stops]

- Grady!
- Aunt Jess, what is it?

- I want you to drive straight
to police headquarters.
- Again?

Get Lieutenant Greco and bring
him back here. What am I suppos...

I can't use the phone. It's too
dangerous. Dangerous? Aunt Jess...

There's no time, Grady. I think
I've figured out who killed Mr. Bundy.

The problem is how to prove it.

What's all this about? I'm really
sorry to bother you with all this.

My aunt needs to know the various
areas the surveillance cameras cover.

Why doesn't she just
ask Pete Morgan? Uh...

Oh. What is she doing?

I think she said something
about looking for a letter.

My letter? Yeah.
Yeah, that's it.

She said you were looking for a
letter in a book on Sunday morning—

The very time your uncle
was shot, and— Uh-oh.

[Gasps] What's this about?

Surely you remember
that accident, Vanessa.

Is this your idea of a
joke, Mrs. Fletcher?

Not at all. I wish it were.

Wires leading from the surveillance
box to the playback machine.

That's how I could be in
two places at the same time.

But surely you knew
that, Vanessa, since you

did the same thing. What
are you talking about?

You must have recorded your
little charade a day or two ago,

either when Mr. Morgan was
off duty or perhaps getting coffee.

Then you used the tape on Sunday
morning to mask your movements.

[Jessica Narrating]
You set the machine up,

then waited until you
saw the guard going by.

What Pete and I were looking
at was your prerecorded tape.

We had no way of knowing you had ducked
outside and come up the rear staircase,

avoiding the other
surveillance cameras.

You waited until Chester
Harrison went out to his car.

Then you slipped into his room.

You shot your uncle
after he went by,

then left by the back stairs,

putting the gun into the laundry
chute after wiping it clean.

A t this point, you knew no one
would be watching the security monitors.

You returned to the library where
you unclipped the wires and hid them.

Then you rewound the tape and
recorded over the cover-up scene.

On the way to join the others,
you knocked over the candy again...

so that, if anybody
checked, everything

would correspond to
what the guard had seen.

Oh, that is a clever
little story, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Now prove it.
- Vanessa?

Mr. Morgan, what exactly
did you see that morning?

What you saw. I mean,
you were right there with me.

There was something odd
about that scene, Mr. Morgan,

and I don't blame
you for not noticing.

It didn't occur to me
until just a short time ago.

[Narrating] When Mr. Bundy and I
met in the library on Saturday afternoon,

he adjusted the drapes because the
sun was hitting me right in the eyes.

What was the time of
death, Lieutenant Greco?

10:00 in the morning.

Yes. 10:00 in the morning.

[Narrating] Vanessa was looking through
books. We could see her quite clearly...

in the sunlight streaming
into the room in the morning—

Even though the windows
of the library face west,

and sun streams through
them in the afternoon.

Isn't that what we
also saw, Mr. Morgan?

Yes. I remember now.

- You're right.
- I'll swear to that in court, Vanessa.

And I'm sure that will
Mr. Morgan will too.

[Sniffles]

You never knew my
father, Mrs. Fletcher.

He was a very gentle
man. He wasn't weak.

But he was thoughtful,
and he was considerate.

And he was caring.

[Crying] They never
understood him.

He always had time for me
even when nobody else did.

Time to listen...
and time to share.

And then that beautiful
soul was destroyed

by someone who only
taught me to be afraid.

- Vanessa.
- Don't look at me that way, Mother!

I only did what you never
had the courage to do yourself.

I'm only sorry it
took me so long.

[Voice Quavers] Oh.

Come on.

[Footsteps] Jessica.

Oh.

How can I thank you? You saved
this old fool from a terrible ordeal.

Chester, you're
neither old nor a fool.

And it's good to know you'll
be back in business as usual.

Absolutely. We'd offer
you a ride, Mr. Harrison,

but we're headed
towards Poughkeepsie, and

as you see— I have
someone giving me a ride.

[Tires Squealing]
Hey, Chester! Come on.

I've got reservations at
Vincenzo's at 8:00, and I'm starved.

Oh, one little supper.
Doesn't mean a thing.

[Engine Revving]

Aw, who cares?

She wasn't my type anyway.

Grady, your love
life is a real mess.

[Chattering] My
people, Mrs. Fletcher.

We decided to shut the
Bundy operation down...

before the lady is able
to manipulate the books.

[Chattering] [Man] Upstairs.

And another thing, Grady.

I've been, uh,
meaning to talk to you...

about your, uh,
choice of employers.