Stop! Please!
[Jessica] Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
[screams]
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.
[cheerful orchestral music]
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 ten 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, 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 we're being watched.
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?
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 stretching 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.
Good, good. Ha! Just the one I wanted.
When will you ever learn?
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 birdwatching.
Oh!
Come on, play the game.
I took a card.
I know that.
Now throw one down, so I can pick one.
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?
I'm sorry. I was-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!
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.
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 somesome 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.
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 birdwatching 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?
[birds calling]
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!
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.
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 second-hand 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.
I 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.
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 want to 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 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?
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?
I want to find you. Where...
Where are you?
There's something else I want to know.
Well, you'll have to wait, Amos.
Your suspect has gone to lullaby land.
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!
Sheriff Tupper, come in, please.
Deputy Noah Paisley calling Sheriff Tupper.
I know who you are, Noah.
What's goin' on?
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.
Excuse me.
That doesn't mean you have to tell him about this.
Oh, I have no intention of telling anyone anything.
So 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.
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 a 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.
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.
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.
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 week's worth.
Be seein' ya.
Bye.
Oh, Doc, you'll call me as soon as you finish the autopsy?
Yep, 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.
But 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...
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.
At 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.
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!
[line rings]
Hello, whoever you are.
This is Joanna Benson.
Well, actually it's my machine. [knocking at the door]
I'm out of town.
At 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
skinnydipping 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 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.
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 am 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.
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 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 could 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 want to 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.
But she could if she'd 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 hung over.
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.
Oh, yeah?
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.
Oh, 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 birdwatcher 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.