Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 2, Episode 7 - A Lady in the Lake - full transcript

Stop! Please!

[Woman] Tonight on
Murder, She Wrote. [Screams]

- [Man] What's happened?
- I've just seen a murder!

- What?
- This murder'll put Stone Lake on the map.

- She is married.
- Everyone knew he wasn't
getting along well with his wife.

She likes to shuck off her clothes
and run naked through the woods.

She drowned, all right.
There's no question about that.

Mrs. Fletcher saw him
do it! It's cut-and-dried!

Hey, now, look.

There's always some guy like you waiting to
move in. Well, no more, buddy. It's over.

When you told me you
were writing a book called



Murder at the Inn, I knew
this place would be perfect.

Did I mention that Edgar
Allan Poe stayed here?

Harry, this place can't
be more than 10 years old.

The old inn burned
down, but the new building

incorporates part
of the old structure.

Accommodations are
terrific, views from every room.

Look, I don't
need a sales pitch.

I'm only gonna stay a week.
I'm not buying the place.

You couldn't if you wanted to. Grace
Overholtz is leasing with an option to buy.

In fact, uh, I hope to close
the deal while I'm here.

So that's why you offered to
drive me up from Cabot Cove.

Harry, don't look now, but,
uh, we're being watched.

Uh, window upstairs? Yeah?

Must have been a
ghost from the old inn.



A ghostwriter. [Chuckles]

Now, you're gonna
love this place.

Beautiful scenery,
swell atmosphere.

Bet you get two books out of it.

Maybe three. These are
some of the original beams.

And there's a picture of good
old Edgar Allan Poe himself.

Nice touch, huh? Mm-hmm.

Hi, Grace. Hello, Harry.

Grace Overholtz, Jessica Fletcher.
J.B. Fletcher, the famous mystery writer.

How do you do, Mrs.
Fletcher? [Jessica] Hello.

Welcome to Stone
Lake Inn. Thank you.

If you'll just please sign the
register. Oh, yes, of course.

Trust me. This place is gonna
be swarming with celebrities...

by the time your option
runs out in October.

You'd better think about buying.

I'll wait till October.

I'll check back with you in case
you change your mind, huh?

- Enjoy your stay, Jessica.
- Oh, thanks, Harry.

The pictures were
Harry Pierce's idea.

Can't say they
brighten the place.

Well, I trust I won't be kept awake
by a tapping, rapping, quoting raven.

Don't have ravens.

Did hear some squirrels
in the attic... once.

Excuse me. I'll, uh—
I'll see to your luggage.

I think I've got some
exercises for ya. Good.

Left hand way back,
Mrs. Jordan. Oh!

Keep stretchin'
till it hurts. Ow!

Feel it? Yes.

Jack?

I would like to see you
for a moment, please.

Now.

Well, maybe you can show
me some more exercises later.

We'll talk about it.

Close the door. Hey, look...

The door! Your job is to look after
the boats, not the female guests.

She made the moves
on me. I had to be polite.

She is married.

I think she knows that.
Anything else, boss lady?

Jack, don't look for trouble.

That's not what
I was looking for.

Um...

Good, good. Ha! Just the one I
wanted. When will you ever learn?

[Man] Mrs. Fletcher!

Yes?

We've never actually met, but
we were in a seminar together.

New England Teachers'
Conference, 1973.

Oh, my. That's a long time ago.

I was with the Hartford
contingent. Burton Hollis.

- I'd be delighted if you'd join me.
- Well, I wouldn't want to interfere
with your reading.

Oh, I've read this a hundred
times. The inn has a scanty library,

and this is one of the
few books of any interest.

No, please. I'd love
to chat with you.

Thank you.

Perhaps you share my
passion for our feathered friends.

Well, passion, no. But I did use
to take my class bird-watching.

[Hollis] Oh!

- Come on. Play the game.
- I took a card.

I know that. Now, throw
one down so I can pick one.

[Woman] Why do you
get so upset? Sandy?

- Yes, Mr. Hollis?
- Would you like some tea?

Oh, I'd love some.

Tea for two, Sandy, and some of
those little ginger cookies, please.

Right away, Mr. Hollis.

Why'd you play the king? Didn't
you see me pick up the queen?

Uh, I'm sorry. I-I was,
uh—I wasn't thinking.

Carolyn, gin is like life.

If you don't play to win, there
is no sense in playing at all.

- Carolyn, will you please look at me
when I talk to you?
- Howard, please!

[Howard] It's amazing how you can
take the fun out of everything I like.

You have no capacity
to enjoy yourself. Gin!

Would you believe that
man is worth millions?

He recently sold his small
family business to a conglomerate.

[Carolyn] I thought I needed that
card. Hey, guys. Betty been here?

Hi. I haven't seen
her today, Kyle.

Oh, you mean your wife
didn't go fishing with you?

Maybe she's smarter
than she looks.

- Hey, nature lover.
- Hi, everybody.

Isn't it a beautiful day? Oh,
you're asking the wrong group.

These palefaces haven't
been out of the building yet.

Hey, you haven't seen
my wife, have you? No.

Would you like some
wildflowers? Oh, no, no, no, thanks.

She's probably up in her room
resting. She's a little ragged.

I'll catch up with you guys
later. Yeah, see ya, pal.

Oh, Joanna?

I'd like you to meet
Jessica Fletcher.

Joanna Benson. Hello, Joanna.

You're J.B.
Fletcher, the writer.

Writer? Of what?

Murder mysteries.

The Corpse Danced Till Midnight.
Oh! The Killer Called Collect.

Hey, you wrote that? I
started reading that on a plane.

The cover showed some-some babe in a sexy
nightgown. I never got to the good stuff.

I sometimes have a little
difficulty living up to my covers.

Yeah. I'm Howard Crane,
and this is my wife, uh, um,

Carolyn. Hello.

Jessica Fletcher. [Howard]
We're from New Jersey.

This is the last place I ever
thought I would see anybody famous.

A couple of years ago, I
was down in Atlantic City.

I was this close
to—yeah—Sinatra.

Now, that's my kind
of place. Lots of action.

Here we go. Sorry
it took so long.

Would you like to
join us for a cup of tea?

I never drink
anything but water,

preferably from a
mountain stream.

- Have you seen the woods?
- Not yet.

I was about to
ask Mrs. Fletcher...

to go with me
bird-watching in the morning.

Well, I had intended getting
an early start with my work,

but I don't suppose it would
hurt for me to take the morning off.

Shall we say dawn?

Shall we say 9:00?

[Bird Twittering]
[Woodpecker Tapping]

Over this way is where I saw
the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher.

[Twigs Snapping]

Good heavens! It's only Joanna.

I should have warned you.

She likes to shuck off her clothes
and run naked through the woods. Why?

She believes it's healthy to
expose her skin to fresh air.

I wish she wouldn't. It scares
the birds. The man is even worse.

The man? Well, I've
never actually seen him.

But I've heard him crashing
about, disturbing everything.

Only one? I'm surprised
she doesn't attract a crowd.

It might be better
if we split up.

Why don't you take this
path down to the lake?

Flycatchers love
water, you know.

Here. I brought an extra
pair of binoculars for you.

Oh, that's very
considerate. Thank you.

Move quietly, and
keep your eyes peeled.

I'll go along the
other way and try and

locate its nest in the
tree. Yeah, well, I...

Shh, shh, shh! Have to
be very still from here on.

They frighten
easily. Yes, but...

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!

[Woman] No! No, don't!

[Screams] Somebody, help! No!

No! Stop! Please!

Somebody, help me!

Burton! Come quickly!

What is it? What's happened?

Well, I'm not sure, but I believe
I've-I've just seen a murder.

Don't know what's takin'
'em so long to find that body.

This isn't Lake Superior. You okay, Mrs.
Fletcher? You're lookin' kind of peaked.

Oh, I'm fine, Amos.
How's Mr. Crane?

Oh, Doc Hazlitt's looking
after him in his room at the inn.

Soon as I get Crane's statement,
we'll have this case all wrapped up.

Well, you sound
awfully sure of that.

I wish they were all this easy.

I don't always have an unimpeachable
eyewitness like you, Mrs. Fletcher.

[Harry] Grace? Grace?

Hello, folks. Grace, I rushed
back as soon as I heard.

They say good news
travels fast. Oh, no.

This might not be as bad
as you think. Couldn't be.

Might even be a
blessing in disguise.

- What?
- I'm tellin' ya. This murder'll put
Stone Lake on the map.

- People just love secondhand excitement.
- Oh, Harry!

I realize this may not be
the best time to talk business.

Could you use an extra tissue?

Mrs. Crane must have been a
wonderful woman and a good friend.

I didn't even know her.

I'm sorry. Will you excuse
me? I just can't talk right now.

You tell him. I find this
whole thing too depressing.

Sheriff, I think it's my
duty to say something.

Well, that's
commendable, Mr., uh...

Kyle Jordan. I'm a
guest here at the inn.

My wife and I got
to know the Cranes.

I can't tell you how many times
we asked them to go out fishing.

And did they usually
turn you down? Always.

He made it out that it
was his wife, but I got

the feeling that it was
he who didn't want to go.

That's why it was so
strange this morning.

What was so strange about
it? Well, don’t you see, Sheriff?

If he had told us that he
was gonna go out on the

boat, my wife and I would
have gone with them.

But Howard didn't say a word.
I don't think he wanted us there.

Sure. He wanted to get her out there
alone, so he could do away with her.

Oh, Amos, we don't know that.

All I know is what you saw, Mrs.
Fletcher, and that's good enough for me.

Sheriff, our room is
right next door to theirs,

and last night they
had a rather loud fight.

Carolyn told him that the marriage
was a mistake, and she wanted out.

Hollis, you must have heard that
too. Your room's on the other side.

I tried not to listen,

but I couldn't
help overhearing...

Well— Well, what?

Mrs. Crane did say
she wanted a divorce.

And what did Mr. Crane
say about that?

He said she was crazy if she thought she'd
get away with one nickel of his money.

His exact words. [Amos]
Thank you, gentlemen.

That's important evidence.

Just goes to prove that Mrs.
Crane's murder was premeditated.

- Sheriff?
- Yeah, Charlie?

No luck. We can't
find any trace of her.

Well, keep searching. She's
got to be in there somewhere.

Amos, do you suppose that Mr. Crane might
be well enough to answer a few questions?

Just what I was wondering.

Mrs. Fletcher, it's amazing
the way you read my mind.

[Amos] Doc, is it okay if I ask
the suspect some questions?

It's okay with me, but you better
work quickly if you want any answers.

I just gave him a sedative that'll
knock him out for a couple of hours.

What'd you wanna do
a fool thing like that?

Mr. Crane?

Oh. The writer?

And the sheriff.

Mrs. Fletcher saw you struggle with
your wife just before she went overboard.

Struggle? Sure.

Carolyn seemed to go out of her
mind. She tried to jump out of the boat.

I grabbed her, but she—

She twisted out of my hands
and she went into the water.

I—I tried to reach her.

Why'd you wait so long
before you jumped in after her?

Because I can't
swim, that's why!

And also why you
continued to cling to the

boat with one hand while
you were in the water.

Yeah.

Mrs. Crane—could she
swim? Are you kiddin'?

She won medals.

Canova College,
1973. Swimming team.

Look it up.

Her maiden name is—
Was Carolyn Hester.

Well, if she was so good,
why didn't she swim to shore?

[Sobbing] I don't know.

Maybe it's because you
were using your free hand...

to hold her under the boat
so she couldn't come up for air.

No! I tried to find—

Carolyn? Carolyn?

I wanna find you. Where...

Where are you?

There's somethin'
else I wanna know.

Well, you'll have to wait, Amos.

Your suspect has
gone to lullaby land.

[Amos] Well, that's what I
call an open-and-shut case.

Your testimony is
gonna nail the lid on him.

Well, the trouble with that is,
I'm inclined to believe Mr. Crane.

You were an eyewitness.
You saw him murder his wife.

I know what I thought I saw.

But Mr. Crane's version
makes more sense. Oh, no.

It explains why he
didn't stop trying to

push his wife out of
the boat after I called.

I mean, surely a man
intent on murder would think

twice before doing it
in front of a witness.

I mean, the question is, why did
Carolyn Crane jump into the water?

This is gonna look real
good to the grand jury.

The prosecution's star witness
trying to prove that the accused...

is innocent of the crime
that she saw him commit.

Amos, what became
of the rowboat?

Hmm? Oh.

I guess one of the inn's employees
took it back to the boathouse.

Mrs.— Mrs. Fletcher, hold on!

[Man Over Radio] Sheriff
Tupper, come in, please.

Deputy Noah Paisley
calling Sheriff Tupper.

I know who you are,
Noah. What's goin' on?

[Noah] Nothing yet, Sheriff.

Oh, I'm sorry. I would have
knocked, but the door was open.

What do you want?
It's okay, Jack.

You don't have to be
embarrassed, Mrs. Fletcher.

I simply find this young
man irresistibly attractive.

Oh, really, there's no need
to explain, Mrs. Jordan.

Nor does my husband
care how I amuse myself...

as long as I don't keep
him from going fishing.

[Mouths Words]

Excuse me.

That doesn't mean you
have to tell him about this.

Oh, I have no intention
of telling anyone anything.

So, uh, what can I do for you?

Are you the one who brought the boat in
after the incident? You mean the murder?

Yeah, that's it. Where did
you put the fishing equipment?

There wasn't any. Ma'am, he
didn't take her out there to go fishing.

What purpose does
this hook serve?

Hmm. Beats me. I don't know
what it's for or how it got there.

[Chuckles] Hey, lady,
would I lie to you?

I checked on Howard Crane's story
with a phone call to Canova College.

That part was true anyway. His
wife was on the swimming team.

Good. But that only means that she
could have swum ashore if she were able.

But she wasn't. He was holding
her underwater so she'd drown.

But, Amos, it's hardly
likely that a non-swimmer

would try to kill a
swimmer by drowning.

A champion one, at that. I don't
care if it was unlikely. It happened.

I mean, Crane
pretended to take his wife

fishing, and then
murdered her in cold blood.

But how could he pretend to
go fishing with no equipment?

I mean, she would have
noticed. Unless— Unless what?

Unless it was Carolyn's idea to go
out in the boat and not her husband's.

Don't quite follow that, ma'am.

Amos,

supposing Carolyn
coaxed him into the boat.

I mean, the lake was
the center of activity.

- I mean, she could reasonably assume that
there would be at least one witness handy.
- For what?

So she could stage
her disappearance,

make it appear like murder.

Why?

Because her husband
said he would fight a divorce

to keep her from
getting any of his money.

And, unless I'm wrong, New Jersey
has no community property laws.

Faking a murder is awful
chancy. And what's the point?

If she turns up alive, the grand
jury's not gonna indict Howard.

No, but if she waited a
few days, the media would

probably imply that he
was some sort of a monster.

So that when she did turn up, she
could say that she was hiding from him...

because she was afraid of him.

Now, her testimony and mine will surely
try and convict him of attempted murder.

And Mrs. Crane will win a nice,
big divorce settlement. Exactly.

There's got to be a
flaw in that somewhere.

[Noah Over Radio] Sheriff
Tupper, can you hear me?

I can hear you. Sheriff,
it's Noah Paisley.

Yes, Noah, I know who you are.

Sheriff, you'd better get
down to the north side

of the lake right away.
The north side? What for?

Over here, Sheriff!

They just pulled
her out of the water.

Sorry, ma'am. For once, it
looks like you were wrong.

Amos, I left your
suspect in his room.

If he decides to go get
something to eat after

he wakes up, tell your
deputy not to shoot him.

I'll take care of Mr. Crane.
What about Mrs. Crane?

I'd say death by drownin'.

I just don't understand
it. How could that be?

Just like I told you, her
husband held her under.

But, Amos, you know as well
as I do that that makes no sense.

Because it blows your
theory right out of the water.

But that's no reason to get
your dander up. [Seth]Jess?

How about a ride to Cabot Cove? It's
not gonna be much fun around here.

Well, thank you, Seth, but I
am more determined than ever...

to get to the bottom of things.

Well, I suppose you
have paid your money.

Might as well get your
weeks’ worth. Be seein' ya.

Bye. Oh, Doc, you'll call me as
soon as you finish the autopsy?

A-yah. First thing.

All right, now, assuming that Mrs.
Crane was drowned by her husband...

She was, and you saw her.

But how did the body get
to the north side of the lake?

Well, that's easy. The current.

Or the wind.

There is no current to
speak of and very little breeze.

How long would you
say that would take?

Oh. Well, okay.

Uh, maybe, uh— um—

Mrs. Fletcher, you're
not a good loser.

Mighty popular book.

I was hoping it might
help me to carry on a

more intelligent
conversation with Mr. Hollis.

Yes, I thought so.

I don't trust my memory about birds.
My husband was the expert, not me.

My Phillip loved birds too.

I remember the first time I saw
this place, I thought to myself,

"Phillip would
feel at home here."

It's hard to believe it's nearly
three years since he died.

Yeah, I know the feeling.

It scares me some...

thinkin' of runnin'
this inn all alone.

A t least you had
the courage to try.

Well, I needed to do something.

But this murder,
I— I don't know.

I might have made a mistake.

Grace, I'm trying to make some
sense out of what has happened.

It might help me if I could see
your record of advance reservations.

- What do you hope to find?
- A connection, perhaps.

It might be better
not to stir things up.

Well, surely you're
not afraid of something?

- Why should I be?
- Thanks.

Aha.

The day the Cranes
called in their reservation,

someone else made a reservation
and left the same telephone number.

A travel agency, I expect.

Well, there's one way to find
out. May I use your phone?

Oh. Help yourself. Thanks.

[Harry] Grace?

So, this is where you've
been hiding. Oh, hi, Jessica.

Hello, Harry.

I've been lookin' high and low
for you. I've got some great news.

That so? I just got off the
phone with a Boston travel editor.

I persuaded him to do a Sunday
feature on the Stone Lake Inn.

Why didn't you check with me first,
Harry? I don't want all this publicity!

What? Can you
believe that woman?

After all I've tried to do to help
her. Grace? Grace? Wait a minute!

[Woman] Hello, whoever you
are. This is Joanna Benson.

Well, actually, it's my machine.
I'm out of town. [Knocking]

A t the sound of the beep, please
leave your name, number, and message...

and I will get back to
you as soon as I can.

[Beeps] Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

Joanna, I'm so sorry to bother
you, but I've run into a puzzle,

and you're the only person
who can help me to solve it.

Please, come in. Thank you.

Oh, my! Isn't that an
unusually beautiful robe.

But then I gather that you're
a very unusual young lady.

You saw me in the
woods this morning.

Barely.

Well, I believe that our
bodies, as well as our spirits,

should be free of
conventional expectations.

But if you were offended...

Oh, good heavens, no.

I spent many a summer day skinny-dipping
in the lake in back of our house.

You said something
about a puzzle.

Oh, yes. You know, it's
a most curious thing...

How two people who
live in different states...

and who never met each other
before they came here to this inn...

could have the same
telephone number.

I'm sorry, but I don't know
what you're talking about.

I talked to your
answering device, Joanna.

I half expected to hear
Howard Crane's voice too.

Howard didn't kill her.

Well, the sheriff's
inclined to think differently.

Why don’t you tell me about it?

I used to work for
Howard's company...

as a secretary.

Everyone knew he wasn't
getting along well with his wife.

So when he asked me out...

Yes, I understand.

After he sold the company,

he moved me into an
apartment in Manhattan.

He made excuses to his wife for
being away from home so much.

It must have been a
terrible shock to you...

when he told you he was
taking his wife on vacation.

Oh, but it was her idea.

She even chose
this place. She would.

A sleepy little inn at
the end of nowhere?

Howard had been
making a lot of promises,

like a divorce.

But when it came to this
vacation of hers, he just crumbled.

I was mad. I was mad as hell.

But in the end, I caved in.

I even made his reservations to
show there were no hard feelings.

And thoughtfully made a
reservation for yourself...

so that, uh, you could
keep an eye on them.

Looks like you've
got me figured out.

Yes. You came up here
early to establish yourself...

as an eccentric nature girl...

who loved to go running
naked through the woods.

That way, people wouldn't have questioned
a young woman staying here alone.

Nobody except Burton Hollis
ever went near the woods,

and I knew I didn't
have to be afraid of him.

When Howard arrived
and found me here,

he was livid.

But his vacation, like his
marriage, fizzled quickly.

Did Howard tell you that he and
Carolyn were going out in the boat?

No. It must have been
a last-minute decision.

Mrs. Fletcher, I want desperately
to believe that Howard didn't kill her.

But he was so furious
when he saw me here...

That you wonder
if he was afraid...

you would interfere with
his plan to murder his wife?

[Cooing]

Mr. Hollis?

Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't
mean to scare them all away.

That's all right. I took lots of
pictures before you got here.

Oh. Say, these are very good.

The detail is remarkable.

That's not one of my best shots.

Isn't that the young man who
looks after the boats? Jack Turney.

He seems to be
waiting for someone.

Mrs. Jordan. They
went off together.

May I borrow this,
please, for a while?

You can keep it.

Oh, dear.

The sheriff is taking
away Howard Crane.

Howard's not going to like jail.

He can't stand to be
cooped up. Oh. Excuse me.

Surely.

Watch your head. Amos?

Now, hold your
horses, Mrs. Fletcher.

The suspect is awake and alert, and
there's no reason not to take him in.

Well, what word
about the autopsy?

Nothin' yet, but Doc should
have his results by now.

Gonna stop over there right after I
deposit the prisoner. Care to ride along?

Well, I was about to
suggest that very thing.

Don't tell me I'm
beginning to read your mind.

[Sighs]

These things are too
tight. Loosen 'em up.

Can't do that.

There's no air in here.
I'm gonna suffocate.

Open a window.
Can't do that either.

Oh, are you afraid
I'm gonna jump out?

- I can't breathe! Open the damn window!
- What's goin' on back there?

Amos, I believe that Mr. Crane
suffers from claustrophobia.

You've been talkin' to my shrink.
That's privileged information.

Oh, wait'll I get my
hands on that little weasel.

Okay, just simmer
down. Like hell I will!

What else did he tell you?

Did he tell you I got accidentally locked
in a closet when I was six years old?

Did he tell you I wet
my bed till I was 14?

Oh! You people don't
stop at anything, do you?

Hey, you tell this lunkhead here
that I demand to call my lawyer,

because I'm going
to sue the pants off

everybody who's
responsible for this outrage.

Mr. Crane, you must have made quite a
bit of money from the sale of your factory.

Huh?

Yeah. So what?

Well, now that
your wife is gone,

who stands to
inherit your estate?

I don't know.

Oh. Nobody. We
never had any kids.

- Mrs. Fletcher.
- You don't have any relations?

Dead. All dead.

My pop was the last.

He died about six months after
his crooked brother, my Uncle Fred.

Now, there's nobody.

Uncle Fred didn't
marry? Aunt Martha.

She died years ago...

giving birth to
my cousin Arthur.

I haven't seen that little
rat since he was a kid.

- Mrs. Fletcher.
- You have no idea where he might be?

Yeah. He's dead too.

At least, I'm pretty sure he is.

I heard that a couple
of years ago. You're

looking at the last of a
very distinguished line.

Mrs. Fletcher, I don't think...

you should be talkin' to the
prisoner while he's in custody.

Then I won't. Amos,

I have a photo that I want you
to check against your wanted file.

It's a man who works
at the inn. Jack Turney?

Yeah, I know him.

But he wasn't on the boat.

[Amos] Give us an answer, Doc.
Did the victim drown, or didn't she?

She drowned, all right
There's no question about that.

But the autopsy
reveals mud in her lungs.

Mud off the bottom of the
lake. What's wrong with that?

Look, Howard Crane
never let go of the boat.

There's no way he could have held
his wife on the bottom until she drowned.

She sank there
after she was dead.

But a dead person
wouldn't inhale mud.

Also, my examination showed a
bump on her head with abrasions.

Sure. She must have hit her
head on the bottom of the boat.

Not unless it was a
glass-bottom boat.

There were tiny bits of glass
embedded in her scalp. Glass?

As if she’d been hit with a
bottle that broke on contact,

except this was
not bottle glass.

Oh, and another thing.

She was wearing a bathing
suit under her clothes.

Doggone it, Doc! I
had him dead to rights.

He's sittin' there in my jail where he
belongs. Mrs. Fletcher saw him do it.

It's cut-and-dried. Howard
Crane killed his neglected wife.

Yes. Of course.

Carolyn Crane was a neglected
wife. I should have thought of that.

- Thank you, Amos.
- For what?

For making me realize that
my original theory was correct.

You mean that cockeyed theory
that she was faking her own murder?

What I didn't realize was
that another man was involved.

Sheriff! Sheriff!

Sorry to interrupt, but this is
important. I found this in the wanted file.

Jack Turney?

Yes, ma'am.

Say, he's got a string of
aliases long as my arm.

Well, I'll be.

You'll be what, Amos?

Tell us.

He's wanted for
blackmailing married women.

Nearly killed one of 'em.

I thought you went
fishing. Where'd you go?

Well, I told you. I was
going for a bike ride.

Where? Along the lake road.

If you'd been out in the
boat, you'd have seen me.

I wanted to surprise you by taking one
of the inn's bikes and catch up with you.

Only, the fellow in charge
of the bikes told me...

I was the first person
to ask for a bike today.

Nobody else had taken one out.

Kyle, let me go!
We're gonna talk.

Noah, you stay
here till I need you.

Thank you, Grace.

Ah, Jessica and Sheriff
Tupper. Just in time for tea.

Thank you. Not right now.

Mrs. Overholtz, could I
speak to you for a moment?

Why?

I have some bad news, ma'am.

Afraid I'm gonna have to
arrest one of your employees,

calls himself “Jack Turney."

He's a fugitive. Jack
did not do anything.

You haven't heard
the charges, Grace.

Yes, but I know all about them.
Jack told me the whole story.

He had an affair with
a married woman.

And when he broke up with her, she
framed him on some extortion charge.

Now, that's all there was to it.

Except it wasn't one
woman. It was four.

And he struck one
of 'em pretty hard.

I guess he didn't tell you
that part. No—I don't believe it.

Jack was always a little wild,

but we never kept any
secrets from one another.

I, uh, take it you
and this fellow...

have a relationship?

If I'm not mistaken, Amos,
it's not the kind you mean.

You're right, Mrs.
Fletcher. Jack is my brother.

He came here frightened.

He needed a place to hide, and
I wasn't going to turn him away.

Nobody can blame you
for that. Can they, Sheriff?

It's not for me to say.

- Mrs. Overholtz, suppose you tell me
where I can find him.
- The boathouse.

Help! Somebody, help!

My husband, he's going
after Jack, and he's got a gun!

Don't try and lie your way out of
this one! She told me everything.

- Hey, now, look.
- There's always some guy like you
waiting to move in.

Well, no more, buddy. It's over.

Mr. Jordan, now, you hold off.

I don't wanna see you do
anything you'll be sorry for.

Now, I came here to take
Jack Turney into custody.

Be a shame if you
had to go instead.

Freeze! Oh, put that thing down!

Mr. Jordan was just about
to hand over his weapon.

Much obliged.

Noah, you got some
handcuffs for Mr. Turney?

You bet.

You got nothin' on me.

Just blackmail, assault
and battery, skippin' bail.

And then there's a murder
I'd like to talk to you about.

Before you do, Amos, I'd like
to say a few words. Why not?

It was you who told me that
Carolyn Crane was killed by her lover.

I thought she was
killed by her husband.

- You filthy— -
Hey, I didn't kill her!

- You expect anyone to believe that?
- I believe it.

Carolyn, the neglected
wife, did have a lover.

He was the one who suggested
staging the murder in front of a witness.

And it was he who was waiting for her when
she swam to the north shore of the lake,

where the real
murder took place.

Now, there you go again.

There is no way that woman
could swim that lake underwater.

She could if she planned it.
Now, I think that Carolyn Crane...

arrived at the boathouse while
her husband was having breakfast,

and she took out this boat.

Now, Mr. Turney,
you forgot to mention...

that the scuba
equipment was missing.

I didn't notice it till
later. I was hungover.

I went up to the inn
for a cup of coffee.

Scuba gear? You should've
said something, son.

To cops? I tell nothing to cops.

At any rate, I suspect that she rowed
out of sight of the inn and the boathouse.

She stripped to her swimsuit...

and lifted the underwater
breathing apparatus over the side.

Then she attached
the twine to this hook...

and secured the scuba gear
on the bottom of the boat.

She returned to the surface, took a
few minutes to let her swimsuit dry,

then dressed and rowed back to
the pier to wait for her husband.

Now, she probably wore that
floppy hat to conceal her wet hair.

I think she let Howard row
some distance from shore...

while she kept an eye out for her
witness, which turned out to be me.

I came out of the
woods, right on schedule,

and saw what I was
supposed to see...

Howard Crane apparently
murdering his wife.

Meanwhile, underwater
and out of sight,

Carolyn detached the scuba
gear from the boat, strapped it on,

then swam leisurely underwater
to the distant north shore.

She came out of the water expecting
comfort and support from her lover.

Instead, he attacked her.

He must have struck her
with the only weapon at hand,

then held her face down in
the mud until she was dead.

A-yah. I guess those
other charges have to wait.

Jack Turney, I'm arresting you
for the murder of Carolyn Crane.

Well, if you do, Amos, you'll
be arresting the wrong man.

What? But you just said...

I never mentioned Mr. Turney.

Oh, no. Carolyn would never
have picked him for her lover.

He was much too
obvious a womanizer.

No, Carolyn would have turned to
someone more gentle and compassionate.

Don't you think so, Mr. Hollis?

Me? I wouldn't know. But
you seem to know so much.

For example, you told me that Howard
Crane couldn't stand to be cooped up.

How did you know
about his claustrophobia?

- He must have mentioned it.
- Oh, I doubt that.

He confided that all-too-human
weakness only to his psychiatrist.

But someone who knew him as a child
might remember. A cousin, perhaps?

Cousin Arthur.

It should be easy
enough to check.

The fact that Howard and I are
related doesn't prove anything.

No, but it explains a lot.

You came here to
ruin Howard Crane.

Carolyn was only a
pawn in your scheme.

You intended to kill her from
the start and pin it on Howard.

Ridiculous.

You can't possibly prove I had
anything to do with her death.

Oh, I'm afraid you're
wrong, Mr. Hollis.

You struck her with the
only weapon at hand...

The binoculars that were
hanging around your neck.

Glass from the shattered lens
was found embedded in her scalp.

Sheriff, there's a pair
of binoculars in my room.

They're undamaged
with both lenses intact.

That would be your
extra pair— the pair you

gave me so I could
witness a bogus murder.

I thought it odd that you
packed two pairs of binoculars.

Now I see that your plan
required both of them.

Mr. Hollis,

I'd like to take a look
at those binoculars.

Both pairs.

Howard's father cheated
mine out of the family company.

He accused him of
embezzling funds.

The scandal was too much,
and Father died of a stroke.

Then Howard's father died,
and he inherited everything.

He sold that company for a fortune!
Half of that should have been mine!

It wasn't fair!

And what you did to
Carolyn Crane, was that fair?

I had nothing against Carolyn.

I was fond of her.

But she had to die.

Surely, you can
understand, to inherit...

I had to eliminate them both.

Take 'em in.

It's a real shame. I had Grace
hooked and was just about to reel her in.

But she decided this place had
too many unhappy memories for her.

Well, I'm sure you'll
find someone else, Harry.

You can take that to
the bank. Tell me, Jess.

What made you suspicious that our
bird-watcher wasn't what he said he was?

One small thing.

He said he was gonna look for the
Yellow-bellied Flycatcher's nest in a tree.

Oh, why, sure! The Yellow-bellied
Flycatcher makes his nest on the ground.

One of my schoolteachers
used to take us on bird walks.

Well, it proves
one thing anyway.

You're far and away the best mystery writer
who ever stayed under these old beams.