Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996): Season 8, Episode 16 - Ever After - full transcript

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

(MIRIAM SCREAMS)

DEVON: If you go through
with this grotesque charade,

if you marry this rich old
fool, I swear I'll kill you!

I was far too busy having an
affair with your precious trainer.

Why would a killer
wait in a closet full of

women's clothes for
Walter to open the door?

It's him! It's Devon!

He killed Walter,
and now he's after me!

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(HEART MONITOR BEEPING)



I'll always be here.

Darling, hang on.

Please don't leave me.

It's a miracle!

Doctor! Doctor!

He's awake! He's
awake! He's awake!

SHERI: And cut.

MAN: All right. Okay, people.

SHERI: Good going, Devon.

Listen, I need to talk to you.

Sure.

Exciting, isn't it? Me,
the man in the coma.

Finally conscious
after three years.

It's gonna add a whole
new dimension to my part.



Well, that's what I
wanted to talk to you about.

Uh, the good news is, the
character is going to fully recover

and go back to his wife
and kids in Philadelphia.

The bad news is, it's all
going to happen off-camera.

I don't understand.

Well, how can I put
it to you tactfully?

They're not killing you off,
Devon, they're dumping you.

Miss Rollins. I'm so sorry for
not getting your mail myself,

but Mrs. Barrington needed
some help with groceries.

It's no trouble at all.

Thanks for the use of your key.

Any time, Miss Rollins.

Excuse me, please.

(CHUCKLING) Yes.

AHMED: Mrs. Fletcher,
welcome back from Washington!

Thank you so much, Ahmed.

I kept your mail
as you requested.

Oh, my goodness,
would you look at that?

I've only been gone three days.

May I help you upstairs
with your luggage?

No, thank you, I can manage.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm terribly sorry, but this letter
somehow got mixed up with my mail.

Oh. Thank you very much.

It's my pleasure.

I must say, I was
delighted to discover that

my favorite mystery writer
is a fourth floor neighbor.

Have we met before somewhere?

I'm Joanna Rollins.

You may have seen me on the
daytime drama called Happily Ever After.

(LAUGHING)

Of course! My work schedule
is pretty busy during the day,

but sometimes I manage to
catch your show on my tea break.

You know, I'd love to know what
happened after the last episode.

Oh, which? Which?

Well, you had just
learned that your...

The man you thought
was your husband,

was actually your husband's
identical twin brother.

Believe me, we got a
lot of mail on that one.

I'm sure you did. And what do
you have in store for us now?

I suppose you're right. It is a bit
far-fetched, but that's what makes it fun.

Oh, you'd be surprised how many
people think the characters on my show

are actual living,
breathing human beings!

I'm sure. It's frightening.

Oh, what a lovely apartment.

Why don't you come in
and have some tea with me?

Oh, that sounds wonderful, but I really
must get home and check my messages.

There you are.
Joanna, we need to talk.

Jessica, this is Devon Lane. And in
spite of an overly dramatic entrance,

he's actually a
very talented actor.

Sonny Lane!

Forgive me. It's just, well,

coming face to face with a
famous child star who's all grown up.

I'm sure you
hear it all the time.

You want to know the truth?

Nostalgia makes me gag.

Yes. Well, I'm sorry. Please
excuse me, Joanna. I really must go.

I'm sorry, too, Jessica.
He's usually not this rude.

That's right, and I usually don't get
fired by the women I'm sleeping with!

You were born in a barn, Devon.

You've got the
manners of a goat!

Is that why you had
me kicked off the show?

Or have you found some other
poor slob you can humiliate?

JOANNA: It's funny you should
mention that, because maybe I have.

DEVON: Who is he? I'm
dying to know his name.

(DOOR SLAMS)

Would you come out and stop
acting like a damned soap opera queen

and listen to me!

No! You listen to me!
I don't want you here!

I don't love you, and I
want you out of my life!

Well, if you think you
can get rid of me like this,

you are straight
out of your mind!

JOANNA: I must've been out of my
mind to stay with you for three years!

And you think you can wipe it
out with a snap of your fingers?

Don't you dare threaten me!

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Jessica! Help me! Let me in!

(KNOCKING CONTINUES)

Jessica!

Lock it! Hurry!

Joanna! Come on out here.

Don't let him come near me.

Joanna! Come on out here
or I'll smash down this door!

(BANGING ON DOOR)

Now that is just about
enough, Mr. Lane.

Now, if you don't move
away from my door this instant,

I'm going to call the police, and
have you arrested for harassment

and disturbing the peace.

Okay. Only you
can tell Greta Garbo

this isn't the end of it.

Well, I think he's gone for now.

JOANNA ON TV: I know
what the trouble is, Dr. Leon.

I make too many
commitments. I can't help myself.

I keep getting involved with people
who want commitment, who demand it.

I'm beginning to feel that it's
a form of emotional extortion.

There just isn't enough time or enough of
me to share with all the desperate people

who want to consume me.

Dr. Leon,

do you suppose that's
why I feel disconnected?

So remote from Gregory?

(SIGHS)

I suppose the thing that terrifies me
most is falling in love with Gregory.

With the children,
with everybody...

Well, what do you
think of her, Bo?

She certainly is a beautiful
woman, that's for sure.

WALTER: She's a lot more than
that. She's a reason to keep going.

Right now, your heart's
going a little bit too fast.

Mr. Bowman, why don't
you slow it down a little bit?

Daddy. Teddy wants to talk to
you about a terrific investment idea.

You don't say?

You're smiling, Doctor.

Is there some sort of
private joke going on here?

Because obviously, you
and I are not connecting.

Walter.

There's an old saying,
Doctor, remember?

It all started when
I asked myself,

"When people go to
an amusement park,

"what do they stand
in line the longest for?"

Roller coasters.

So I'm thinking, forget
the amusement parks.

The people want roller coasters.

And we'll give
them roller coasters.

In every major city, the biggest
and the scariest in the world.

So, what do you think, Walter?

What do I think?

I think that I ought to call a bunco squad
and have you thrown in the slammer.

And if you ever walk into this
room again while I'm watching TV

and turn it off,

I will personally shave that filthy
face of yours with a meat cleaver.

Is that clear?

Oh, yeah. Sir.

Daddy, why would you rather
watch that trash than listen to Teddy?

I'd rather do anything
than listen to Teddy.

And, just between us,

I've got a little something going
with that beautiful lady on the tube.

She and I are getting married.

An actress? You're kidding me.

Marci, there are two things I don't
kid about: love and the stock market.

Oh, I get it. You kept it quiet
until the divorce was final.

Well, when Mama finds out, she
is going to scream bloody murder.

JOANNA ON TV: There's an
old saying, Doctor, remember?

"Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me."

(CAR HORN HONKING)

Mrs. Bowman. Thank you, Raymond.

(SCREAMS)

Quiet, please!
Quiet in the room.

Let us dignify this solemn occasion
by making as little noise as possible

so that the bride and
groom can hear their vows.

(REPORTERS CHATTERING)

Where's Marci?

Didn't invite her. She would
have brought her scuzzy boyfriend.

I don't want to say "I do"
through clenched teeth.

Let us proceed.

Do you, Walter Vincent Bowman,

take this woman, Joanna Grimsky-Rollins,
as your legally bound wife?

I do.

As set forth in the
marriage doctrine

in accordance with the law of
the sovereign state of New York?

You betcha.

And do you, Joanna
Grimsky-Rollins, take this man...

DEVON: No, wait!

MALE REPORTER: Who's that?

No!

No! Joanna, how can
you do this? I love you!

FEMALE REPORTER:
It's Sonny Lane!

(ALL CLAMORING)

CITY CLERK: Everybody,
quiet down! Now quiet down!

Young man, don't you realize that
there is a legal ceremony going on here?

Joanna, please! Didn't the three years
we lived together mean anything to you?

Devon, it's over. How many
times do I have to tell you that?

I love Walter now.

REPORTERS: Aww!

MALE REPORTER:
Get it. Don't lose this shot.

No! No! No! No!

Security, remove this man.

This way, sir.

If you go through with
this grotesque charade,

if you marry this rich old
fool, I swear I'll kill you!

I'll kill you both!
I'll kill you both!

Mr. Lane! Stop, please!

I'm sorry, Mr. Lane, sir, but
Mrs. Rollins-Bowman isn't in.

Well, I didn't come to see her.

I just came to get
something. A painting I own.

Sir, I've been instructed
to call the police

if you try to go up to Mrs.
Rollins-Bowman's apartment.

Do you know how easily
I could break your arm?

I don't suppose that it would
take more than one good snap.

But I simply cannot allow
you to go up there, Mr. Lane.

No, no, no. I'm sorry, you
cannot use these elevators.

Can't you see? Service elevator's
too small for this here ladder.

Then, perhaps, the stairs.

Maybe I should just levitate
up the whole 10 flights?

Yeah. An excellent idea.

Please let me know when you
intend to try so I may alert the press.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Yes? Irwin Fisk.

Mrs. Rollins-Bowman asked me to
appraise a painting that she wants to sell.

She mentioned that she'd left
you her key and could let me in.

Yes, of course, just
a moment, please.

This way, Mr. Fisk.

I understand Mrs. Bowman
has an original Von Hockhouser.

Well, I'm a great
admirer of his works.

Especially his large nudes
with the plump bottoms.

Irwin, darling, we made it!

I told Walter if we were
late, I'd never forgive myself.

Jessica, thank you
for coming to my aid.

Jo said she hated to impose on you
again, but I said, "What are friends for?"

Well, that's one
way of looking at it.

(WOMEN LAUGHING)

Excuse me, here.

WALTER: After you, sir.

(GASPS)

Oh, no!

What a desecration!

It's him! It's Devon!

Are you sure?

Yes. He gave me that painting and
he knows that I'd try to get rid of it.

Oh, but to slash it
like that, it's so sick.

If you want my opinion,

it's symbolic of what he'd
like to do to Joanna and me.

Oh, now, honeybunch.
Don't you worry.

That lunatic is not
getting near you. I promise.

And forget about that painting,

I'll get you all the damn
paintings you need.

911.

Operator, get me the police.
I need to report a felony.

Let me ask you.

Did he ever make any threat
about possibly returning later?

No.

He was here one
moment and gone the next.

So what you're saying is, you didn't see
him get in the elevator and go upstairs?

Correct.

But you didn't see Mr. Lane
leave the building either?

AHMED: Exactly so.

Did you see anything?

Him. I saw him!
He distracted me.

That true?

The only way I could've distracted
him is if I was to take that elevator.

But these elevators
are for residents only.

I always use the service
elevator. That's standard procedure.

Yes, but that's not
what happened exactly.

(ELEVATOR DINGS) Excuse me.

Then what did happen?

(STAMMERING) There,
you see? He did it again!

Mrs. Bowman, did you ever give
this guy Lane a key to your apartment?

I told you, I lived with
the man for three years.

So the answer to
that should be obvious.

Well, I don't know how you
expect me to help you here.

There was no breaking and entering,
and even if he was the perpetrator,

all he did was slash a painting
you said was his personal property.

Officer Bronsky, Devon Lane
made violent threats against me!

At our wedding ceremony,
he threatened to kill us both!

About three million people saw
it on television. Where were you?

Hey, I'm sorry, but until
he actually tries something,

I can't do a darn
thing about it.

So if he actually
tries something,

we may be dead, hmm?

Ma'am, I would certainly
hope that doesn't happen.

WALTER: I believe a cocktail would
be in order. Now, what do you think?

Oh, I think I'd like to freshen up a
little bit before I meet the woman

who used to share your bed.

Mmm. You make it sound a
whole lot racier than it was.

It makes me absolutely furious
that he'd marry a woman like that.

She's an actress. She's used
to being treated like a star.

And that's exactly
how Daddy treats her.

Oh! It's really disgusting.

She'll probably end up
with every cent he's got.

My poor baby. I just hope she doesn't
end up with your inheritance, too.

Oh, don't worry, Mama,

Teddy and I have come
up with this little plan

to prevent that from happening.

You see, what we're
gonna do is one...

Hello, Miriam.

Hello, Walter.

Daddy. Would you like
me to fix you a drink?

No, you can go
count the silverware.

Ever since you brought that shifty-eyed
hoodlum of yours into the house,

I've had a feeling it's
been disappearing.

See how impossible he's become?

(EXCLAIMS IN EXASPERATION)

Oh, poor Walter.

Must have been terribly lonely
to jump into another marriage

without giving it
any thought at all.

I didn't have to think.

Unlike our marriage,
I could feel it was real.

I suppose you feel
disinheriting Marci is right, too.

If that happens, it'll be
because she defied me

and let that Cardozo
bozo move in with her.

(CHUCKLING)
Such a typical father.

You can't bear the thought of any young
man sharing your daughter's bedroom.

I can't bear the thought of him
being anywhere in my house.

And I don't care for you
being here, either, Miriam.

So will you jump back in that
limo of yours that you got from me,

with that stud chauffeur of
yours that you got from me,

and get the hell out of my life?

(SIGHS)

Walter, you're wrong
about the chauffeur.

I was far too busy having an
affair with your precious trainer.

Bo not only knows how
to take care of his biceps,

he knew how to
take care of me, too.

Bo? BO ON INTERCOM: Yes, sir.

If you've got a few minutes,
I'd like to see you in the den.

Thanks. Right away, sir.

Darling, I'm sorry, but I
couldn't help overhearing.

My God, how did you ever live
with such a horrible creature?

Thank you for waking
me from that nightmare.

(MOANING)

Oh, Bo, come in.

I don't believe
you know my wife.

Joanna, this is Bo Wilder, my
loyal trainer and trusted friend.

Nice to meet you, ma'am.

Now, Bo, it's payday.
How much do I owe you?

Gosh, uh, I don't
know, Mr. Bowman.

$500 sound right?

Well, maybe not quite that much.

Go to the safe
and take out $500.

Now take out another 1,000.

What for?

Severance pay. I don't need to
count it. I trust you with the money.

I'm fired? Why? Did I
do something wrong?

No, I did.

I trusted you with Miriam.

That wasn't my
fault, Mr. Bowman.

I don't want to hear about it.

Just get out and
don't come back.

You're not being
fair, Mr. Bowman.

And believe me,
I won't forget it.

JOANNA: Oh, I don't
know, Jessica, sometimes

I feel like giving
the whole thing up.

Everybody thinks I live such
a glamorous life, but I don't.

Well, you'd have a lot of trouble
convincing your fans of that.

It's just too much
responsibility.

Unless I scream at the
writers, I get horrible scripts.

All the producers want
to do is cut the budget.

And I even have to fight
with the studio executives,

who look and act like
they're 12.12 years old.

Well, it's taken me a long
time to find the real secret.

But, you know, I've decided that
success is really within yourself.

Not out there in the world.

Well, maybe after
this season, I'll quit.

Just be a wife to Walter.

Do you know how long it's been since I've
baked a pie or even run a vacuum cleaner?

(GASPS) Walter!

It's 6:40. I promised
I'd call him at 6.30.

Is Walter in town?

No, I came in
alone for my taping.

He's at home, probably
in his gym working out.

He's terrified I'll fall in love with a
younger man who has bigger muscles.

Do you mind if I use
your phone, Jessica?

Oh, no. Of course. Why don't you
use the phone in my bedroom there?

Thank you.

MAN ON TV: Now looking at the numbers.
The industrials are steady at 269.5.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello! Hello,
darling, you're late.

Oh, I'm sorry, darling.
I lost track of the time.

After my taping, I
met Jessica for tea

and we've had a wonderful
two hours of unwinding.

Uh-huh. Well, don't rush
home on my account.

I'm going to have some of that vile,
no-sodium soup the doctor suggested.

I think I'll pass on that. Maybe I can talk
Jessica into having a bite here in town.

I'm waiting for you.

Poor Walter, it's cook's night
out and he's on a hideous diet.

So I have a marvelous idea.

I know a place that has the most
divinely authentic Chinese food,

and if you're
up to it, I'll buy.

Divinely authentic?

I can't resist. I'll change.

My condolences, Miss Bowman.

I know how it feels
to lose your father.

I called to him as soon as I came
home tonight and he always answers.

When he didn't, I went
straight to his bedroom

and I found him in a
pool of blood, Sheriff.

As soon as she
screamed, I ran upstairs.

What a mess! We're
talking grotesque.

Sheriff! Sheriff! Look what I found
under the bed in the master suite.

The killer must
have slung it there.

I hope you didn't spoil any
prints or add any of your own.

No, sir. I followed
the discovery manual.

That's one of my father's shotguns.
He keeps it in the closet in the den.

I remember when I was six years old,
he caught me lugging it through the hall.

That was the first
spanking I ever got.

SHERIFF: No kidding.

Then maybe you can tell me how
many other people in this house

knew where that was kept.

Maybe she doesn't know.

Come on, let's go upstairs.

(REPORTERS CLAMORING)

Do they desensitize reporters when
they hire them, or are they born that way?

Mrs. Bowman. Allow me to
express my heartfelt condolences.

Your husband and I were
old poker-playing buddies.

He was a fine man,
and a good citizen.

Does that mean he contributed
to your campaign fund, huh?

Forgive me, Sheriff, I'm
just not myself tonight.

I understand. I lost someone
close to me this year. My father.

Of course, in his case
it was natural causes.

Do you know how I found
out about this, Sheriff?

I was having dinner with my friend at a
restaurant in Manhattan and I realized

it was getting late and I thought I
should call Walter so he wouldn't worry.

My stepdaughter's
boyfriend answered the phone

and I think his exact words were,
"Somebody just blew a hole through Walter

"the size of a manhole cover."

Now, what I want
to know from you is,

what are you doing
to find the murderer?

Well, we've recovered
the murder weapon.

And as soon as the
fingerprint people get here,

we'll have them go over it.

The shotgun? May I
have a look at that?

Now, wait, just a minute.

Oh, it's all right, Sheriff.

This is Jessica Fletcher,
the mystery writer.

Oh, sure. I'll be darned. I
should've recognized you.

Would you be able to tell me
about these two marks on the stock?

What marks?

Well, these two round swirls.
You can barely make them out.

Looks to me like they're
imperfections in the wood.

Two marks, on the
same side of the stock?

Sure. I'll bet you a
dollar to a donut my

deputy here can tell
you when that happened.

When the killer tossed
the shotgun under the bed?

There. What did I tell you?

Thanks, Ginger.

Is there anything else we
can do for you, Mrs. Fletcher?

Yes. With your permission,

I would like to take a
look at the murder scene.

You can see where he fell.

Yeah.

Was he shot in the back?

Nope. He took the blast of
both barrels right in the chest.

Now, was the closet door open
when they discovered the body?

Well, that's what
his daughter says.

Of course the killer could have
been waiting for him in the closet.

You know, that's my theory, too.

But the Sheriff doesn't buy it.

The question is, how did he know
that Walter was going to open the door?

I mean, he could have been
waiting in there for hours.

Well, that's what the
Sheriff said. Yeah.

Was Walter getting
dressed when he was shot?

No. He was wearing his sweat suit,
like he'd just come from his private gym.

Yeah, but why would he go in the
closet if he was going to take a shower?

Maybe he was like me. I always
lay out all my clothes before I shower.

Well, having met Walter, I
doubt if that's what he had in mind.

Women's clothes?
That is strange.

What's even stranger,

is why would a killer wait in a
closet full of women's clothes

for Walter to open the door?

Unless, he was waiting
for a woman to open it.

You mean to say

this guy threatened to kill both
you and Walter in front of witnesses?

And TV cameras and a dozen
reporters and the city clerk.

His name is Devon Lane. He was a
former child actor, called Sonny Lane.

Hell, I remember Sonny
Lane. He's a cute little rascal.

Well, I can assure you,
he's not so cute anymore.

(PHONE RINGING)

Bowman Estate. Yeah,
Doc. It's the medical examiner.

Can you give me an echo on that?

No, I'm not criticizing. Uh-huh.

Probable time is
good, too. Thanks, Doc.

The preliminary examination
fixes the probable time of death

somewhere between 6:00 and 8:00.

Joanna, what time
did you call him?

Um... About 6:45, wasn't it?

He was on his treadmill and he said
he'd be in his gym for another 15 minutes.

Well, then it seems likely that he
must have been killed about 7:05.

That's my calculation.

Oh! It's him! It's Devon!

He killed Walter,
and now he's after me!

SHERIFF: Well, now.
What do we got here?

What's the big deal? I
heard about the murder.

I just wanted to find out
if Joanna was all right.

Liar! You killed Walter! And
you came back to kill me, too!

How are you going to prove that?

You were caught
trespassing at a murder scene.

That's reason enough to
hold you for questioning.

Read him his rights, Ginger.

Oh, wait, please. Devon.

Where were you at
7:00 this evening?

7:00?

He was right here in this house,

waiting in Walter Bowman's
bedroom with a loaded shotgun.

No. Not true.

I was in a casting office in
Manhattan. From 6:00 till after 8:00.

I had to read for a part.

Would anybody
there remember you?

Yes. Dorothy Fremont.
The casting director.

Her card is in my wallet.

The second number
is her home phone.

Try it.

I don't care what Dorothy Fremont
says. I know he killed Walter.

Yeah. Is this Miss
Fremont? Uh-huh. Yeah.

I'm with the Gull Harbor
Sheriff's Department.

And we have a man here who says he
was in your office for two hours tonight,

starting at 6:00.

Yeah, that's the one.

Thanks for your cooperation.

I'll do that.

What did she say?

Well, he was there, all right.

But she wants us to tell him that
she wishes we could arrest him

for obnoxious behavior and
lock him up as a psychopath.

You see, baby, I
still have some fans.

Okay, Sonny, you're free to go.

But if I ever see you around
here again, I will lock you up.

It's the truth. Walter's tragic
death has made me rededicate

my life to make his
dream come true.

Walter saw this great
land of ours covered

by humungous roller coasters,
from sea to shin... Hello?

Ted? Mr. Turner?

We got cut off. But I
think I piqued his curiosity.

Well, you certainly piqued mine.

Roller coasters?

You know, I hear they've made
some of your books into movies?

If you don't mind me asking,

where did you invest the money?

Teddy. She's not
interested, okay?

All right.

Mrs. Fletcher, what
do you want from us?

Well, I'm trying to get the events
of last night straight in my head.

It would help me to know
where you were at 7:00.

Out to dinner. We... I don't
know, the cook was off-duty.

We left the house around 5:00. Went
to the beach club, had a few cocktails,

went to the Hamptons and
had some polluted oysters.

And did anyone
happen to see you?

Nobody but a bunch
of damned tourists.

Nobody under 30. It
was like aliens had landed

and carried off all
the interesting people.

I see.

What you really mean, Mrs.
Fletcher, is, we could be lying.

Either one of us could have
done it for exactly the same reason.

To make sure Daddy didn't
cut me out from his will.

Isn't that what you really
mean, Mrs. Fletcher?

Jessica, I can't stand
it here another minute.

I'm going into town to
tape a segment of my show.

But I'd be happy to drop
you at your place, if you'd like.

Oh, good. Thank you.

Well, I'm sorry to
see you both go.

Marci, I'll be back for the funeral.
Until then, I'll be living in town.

Oh, a word of caution,
until the will is read,

please don't take anything from the
house or I'll have to have you arrested.

(MARCI LAUGHING)

So much for the
wicked stepmother.

This is Walter's car.

Hmm.

Can you imagine a man
Walter's age driving a car like this?

(HONKING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(HONKING)

(EXCLAIMS)

Are you all right?

You murderer!
You tried to kill me!

No, baby, not true. I
saw you were leaving.

I wanted to stop you and talk.

Devon, you were
driving straight at us.

I lost control for a second.

Look, if I wanted to kill
you, why did I honk the horn?

To scare me. And it
worked. I couldn't move.

If Jessica hadn't been here...

I'm sorry, okay? I got excited. I
got carried away for a moment.

All I wanted to ask you was,

now that Walter's dead,

is there any chance for us?

You're insane. You're
a monster. An animal.

I'm calling the police.

(CHUCKLING) You
know the funny part?

If we were playing this scene
on that stupid program of yours,

all those vapid people who watch you
would be jumping out of their wheelchairs.

Please leave, right now.

Listen, my soap queen,

if I decide to kill you,

I'll think of a lot cleverer way
than to run you down with a car.

(EXCLAIMS)

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. A
thousand welcomes.

Well, one will do very nicely.
I've only been gone overnight.

Would it be appropriate to ask if you're
acquainted with the woman who is waiting

to see Mrs. Rollins-Bowman?

She gave her name
as Mrs. Bowman.

Oh.

Excuse me, Mrs. Bowman.
I'm Jessica Fletcher.

Oh, yes, Joanna's friend.

I was told she would
be along any moment.

Well, she just dropped me off. Actually,
she's on her way to the television studio.

Oh. Well, you see,
Marci, my daughter,

phoned me to gloat over chasing
her out of the Long Island house.

And I suddenly felt... Well, it must
have been so difficult for Joanna,

living in that house with
such a spiteful stepchild.

It's funny,

but it took Walter's
death for me to

realize Joanna would
have been good for him.

Well, I think that's
very gracious of you.

Oh, actually, no.
It was out of guilt.

You see, when I told Walter about the
affair I had been having with his trainer,

he fired him, like that.

So if I hadn't been
such a vindictive bitch,

Walter wouldn't have
been alone in the house.

Would you please tell Joanna

that I would like to sit down with her
sometime and have a nice long talk?

See, my analyst feels it
would benefit both of us.

Mrs. Bowman, do you know how I
could get in touch with Walter's trainer?

Bo?

Excuse me, are you Bo?

Mrs. Fletcher? Yes.

You know, I got to thinking
about what you said on the phone,

that I must've been pretty
upset that Walter had fired me.

Well, I was upset, at first,

but then I sort of understood
how Walter must have felt.

Miriam was his wife at the time.

She was feeling
neglected and I was handy.

I never know what to
do in a situation like that.

I don't want to hurt
anybody's feelings.

Where did you go
after you left the estate?

I drove back to the city,
to my apartment in Soho.

But I had so much nervous
energy that I just couldn't

sit around watching
a sports channel,

so I went out and
ran three hours.

What time was that?

I guess I left around 5:30.

And you were back home by 8:30?

Yeah. Yeah, something like that.

Then I took a shower
and I made a tofu salad

and watched the basketball game.

And that's when the news came on saying
that Walter was found murdered in his room.

I cried like a baby.

Walter was like a dad to me.

I don't remember my own father.

I don't suppose I'll
ever forget Walter.

Excuse me.

Name?

Jessica Fletcher.

You here for the hooker?

Uh...

Well, no, not exactly.

I came to see Dorothy Fremont.

You got her. Come on in.

Oh, thank you.

I got your message.

Typical. Whenever some screwed-up
former child star gets himself in a mess,

it ends up on the news and makes
the whole industry look shabby.

He told the police that
he was here in your office

at the time that Walter
Bowman was murdered.

Oh, he was here, all right.
I couldn't get rid of him.

The dumb thing is, I
had a director here,

well-known director who wanted Sonny,
or Devon, or whatever he calls himself,

to read for the lead
role in a feature.

It was for the part of a former
child star who's a little bit nuts.

And how is that
for type-casting?

And did he get the part?

No, he showed up a day late.

The part was already cast.

He claims we never told him that
the meeting was moved back a day.

But our telephone log shows

that my girl called him three times
and left the message on the machine.

And how did he explain that?

He blamed it on me.

He demanded that I call the
director and tell him it was my mistake.

And when I said I couldn't
possibly do that, he went bananas.

He began raving and ranting for
hours till I finally had to call security.

You know, this is a very
interesting old lamp, Miss Fremont.

Not old, it's ancient.

I got it for my graduation.

Believe it or not, I went to the
same high school as Walter Bowman.

You know, it's a shame.

A horrible way to die.

Opens a closet door, and bam!

Yes, that's right. Thank you.

That's exactly what happened.

Jessica?

JESSICA: I'm upstairs.

Jessica?

I got your message. What
on Earth are you doing here?

There have been some new
developments in Walter's murder

and I wanted to
share them with you.

Why come all the
way out to Long Island?

Because I needed to
talk to Sheriff Beals, too.

Oh? About what?

A rather bizarre plan.

One of the boldest that I
have ever encountered.

A plan that was set in motion

the day that I met you in
the lobby of Penfield House.

You wanted that
meeting to appear casual.

You must have known Ahmed was
holding my mail while I was in Washington.

He told me that you asked him
to keep yours in his desk, too.

You said you were
expecting a large check.

When you picked up your letters,
you deliberately took one of mine

and used it as an excuse
to make my acquaintance.

(LAUGHING)

Why would I go
to all that trouble?

To ensure that I
would be with you

when Devon gave one of his
more convincing performances.

That carefully staged fight
outside your apartment door,

which was designed to
show me his volatile nature

and makes me a witness to the
dramatic end of your relationship.

Why? For what
conceivable purpose?

Why, to advance your
meticulously planned plot.

The big scene at
City Hall came next.

Now, that was pure television,
and it was on television.

How perfect for the villain,
or should I say decoy,

a news-worthy former child star,

to threaten Walter's life in
front of millions of people.

You seem to be building
up to an accusation, Jessica.

So let me remind
you that I was with you

the entire evening that
Walter was murdered.

Who better for an alibi
than the loyal neighbor

who had already been
through so much with you?

Oh, this is really
incredible, Jessica.

Poor Devon, he
needed an alibi, too.

Because the readings for a part he
was up for got pushed back one day,

and he was forced to stay
away from a casting call

that could have led to an
important part in a movie.

Because the date of the
murder was already set.

It had to be the
cook's night out,

so Walter would be
in the house alone.

The irony of it is, I would
have killed for that part.

But you had to sacrifice it because
you needed the perfect alibi.

Your shouting match
with Dorothy Fremont.

I was with Dorothy.

So if you're saying I came
back here, that's impossible.

I couldn't be in two
places at the same time.

No, nor could Joanna.

But that murder
was designed for that.

You see, Mrs. Fletcher figured
out how you two did it as a team.

When she examined
the murder weapon,

she noticed two round marks
on the same side of the stock,

slight indentations in the wood,

swirls, indicating
pressure had been applied.

Not being much of a carpenter, I
couldn't imagine what made those marks,

until I saw a desk lamp in
Dorothy Fremont's office.

It was the kind that clamps
onto the edge of a desk.

So, Mrs. Fletcher called me and
asked me to check the shelf in the closet,

see if I could find any
circular indentations.

Sure enough, there were two.

Perfect matches for the
ones on the murder weapon.

Care to take a look and
see for yourself, Sonny?

I will. I don't have
anything to hide.

(CLICKS) Oh!

That's how Walter died.

The murder weapon was secured to
the shelf, like this one, with C-clamps.

And when he opened the door,

the twine pulled the trigger,
like a string pulling a tooth.

I checked the closet and
couldn't find any clamps.

So I had to buy those
in the hardware store.

These, I found in your car,
Mr. Lane, along with a ball of twine.

You can't prove I
rigged up that shotgun.

No. Because you didn't.

But you did come back to
the house after the murder

to unfasten the shotgun
and slide it under the bed.

Kind of stupid of you to
leave that stuff in the car.

All right. I took the
gun out of the closet.

But I didn't set it up.
His loving wife did that.

Why did she put the shotgun
in her closet and not his?

Because Walter might have
opened his closet any time.

She wanted it to
happen during the period

when they both had their
carefully planned alibis,

so she set it up in her closet.

When she called him
from my apartment, she

must have asked him
to get something for her.

A credit card she said she
left in the pocket of a jacket.

No.

This whole sick
plan, it was his idea!

He said he'd be a decoy
so no one would suspect me!

Really! He's mentally
deranged! He's violently ill!

Oh, I've taken the abuse. I've taken it
day after day, and month after month.

But he said to me, he said if I
didn't cooperate, he'd kill me!

And I knew he would, I did!
I knew he would! I knew it.

Bravo, darling. How
about trying it again?

Only this time, with conviction.

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher. Let
me help you with these.

Thank you, Ahmed.

I see you made the papers again.

This Sonny Lane thing,
though, it's very sad, huh?

Yes. You would think
that people would learn.

The first lesson you learn as a
writer is don't complicate the plot.

Were there any
packages for me today?

No, not today. Oh, but
you did have a visitor.

When I asked him what
he wanted to see you about,

he mentioned the wonderful
business he was starting,

a terrific opportunity
for investment.

So I called my cousin back
home, and I think we can get in on...

Wait a minute, Ahmed, slow
down. What kind of investment?

(WHISPERING) Roller coasters.