Previously onWhy Women Kill...
You killed all these people?
I'm not spending one more night
under the same roof with you
and your collection of murder souvenirs.
-Sure you want to tell him? -It's his baby.
Well, what are you hoping for?
Scooter is not ready to be a father.
I plan to take good care
of Dee and the baby.
Well, you're a private detective.
It's dangerous work.
Why is Mrs. Yost buried in our garden?
She tried to kill me, and Bertie shoved her.
She fell out the window right on top of my gardening shears.
No, please, you can't tell anyone.
You can't even tell Vern.
Vern is my husband.
He's also a detective.
Potassium chloride.
That's a horrible way to die.
I want to tell you about this guy I met.
All the evidence he's uncovered--
it's starting to point to his girl's father.
Sounds like your friend has a decision to make.
She's trying to take you from me, like she did my papa.
Catherine, please don't do this.
Vern Loomis was a righteous man,
incapable of looking the other way
when confronted with evil.
That is why he broke into the Fillcot house that night.
To learn, once and for all,
if his father-in-law
was a murderer.
Hello, Mrs. Fillcot.
We need to talk.
Murder?
You can't be serious.
I am.
Just because Carlo and Isabel
died from drugs similar to ones that Bertram uses...
Not similar, identical.
Why are you still looking into this?
Didn't Isabel confess?
Isabel spoke to me the day she died.
She had proof someone else was in the Castillo mansion
the night Carlo was murdered.
I think she was talking about one of my photos.
So you're not sure.
When I went to her room, she was already dead,
and the photos were gone.
My theory is the killer took it.
-But you can't prove anything. -No.
All I got are questions.
Like how could a maid like Isabel
get access to these drugs?
You know what? I, um...
Wait here.
Back in a minute.
Oh!
So...
A few weeks ago, Bertram told me that some drugs
had gone missing from his medicine cabinet at work.
-Really? -Mm-hmm.
"How odd," I thought. "Who would have taken them?"
And he told me that any of his patients could have taken them
while he was out of the room.
But look at his appointment book. Huh?
See there?
Isabel Duarte.
She brought in Rita's cat the day that Carlo was murdered.
You seem... agitated.
I'm only trying to help you find the truth.
Why are you being contrary?
Do you recall where your husband was the night Mr. Castillo died?
Oh, this is absurd.
Why on earth would Bertie want to kill Carlo?
Well, Dee told me you hated Rita for not letting you in her club.
Once she went to jail, didn't you get in?
Have you shared this silly theory of yours with Dee?
Because if she knew that you were accusing
her parents of murder...
she'd never forgive you.
Well, I see no reason to talk to Dee about this.
Not yet, anyway.
Isabel killed Carlo.
She confessed
and then she killed herself.
That's what happened.
So let it go.
Hmm?
For me?
When we first met, you suggested I try a different occupation.
I'm starting to realize why.
My, it's late.
We should both go to bed.
Alma watched Vern exit,
unaware he was a righteous man
determined to confront evil
no matter the cost.
And Vern emerged from the house,
unaware his mother-in-law
had made a very difficult decision.
That her son-in-law
needed to die.
Alma Fillcot paced the floor till morning,
waiting for her husband's return.
She was desperate to tell Bertram
of their son-in-law's discovery.
And hopeful he'd agree to do what needed to be done.
But of course...
...there was a complication.
Hello?
This is his wife.
What?
Which hospital?
Hey.
Did you sleep on the sofa?
I got in late. I didn't want to wake you.
I'm going to the store for eggs, but when I get back,
there's some stuff I need to talk to you about.
Yeah, I got some stuff I need to talk to you about, too.
Okay.
Mrs. Loomis.
Detective Rohbin.
What a nice surprise.
Vern's upstairs taking a shower, but if you can wait...
Actually, I'm here to see you.
Got a few questions for you.
About the disappearance of your neighbor.
Mrs. Yost?
Oh.
You know, I don't think there's much I can tell you.
See, I think there is.
I could drop by the station later today.
I'd prefer if you dropped by right now.
Hey there.
Oh, it's you.
I thought Catherine had dropped by to finish me off.
Oh, we won't be hearing from her for a while.
I stopped by the mansion
to demand some hush money for shooting you.
She's flown the coop.
And there are padlocks on the doors.
Mm.
So, no more gracious living for me, huh?
I'm afraid not.
Also...
I've come to say goodbye.
Goodbye?
Well, everyone in this town knows
about my previous profession.
I think it's time to bid adieu
to this sunny cesspool and...
head to New York.
What will you do there?
Perhaps I'll reinvent myself again.
I can be a Greek aristocrat fleeing a loveless marriage.
Millionaires can be very generous
to classy women in dire circumstances.
Well...
I'll really miss you.
Why not come with me?
My career...
I'm not the only one tainted by scandal.
People know you went from being my lover to Catherine's.
They're saying I was being kept?
Word's gotten out, yes.
Let's say I do go to New York.
What do we do for money?
We have that cash you took from Catherine.
And we'll pawn those diamond cuff links she gave you.
That'll be enough to set us up in Manhattan.
Oh, come on.
Forget about showbiz for a while.
Let's have an adventure.
I guess I don't need to be an actor.
As long as you're my leading lady.
Scooter...
what a sweet and clever thing to say.
Mmm.
Hey.
Maybe I could be a writer.
Don't ruin it.
Mrs. Luna, what can I do for you?
I saw some detective push your wife into a cop car
and take her away.
What did she do?
Excuse me?
I run a respectable building,
and I don't rent to no shady characters.
Well, hold on.
This detective...
what did he look like?
-Dr. Andrews? -Uh, yes?
They said you were treating my husband Bertram Fillcot,
but they wouldn't tell me what was wrong with him.
Mr. Fillcot was shot.
Shot!
By who?
Your husband's not sure.
He thinks it was a stray bullet?
Is Bertie all right?
Oh, yeah, he's fine. You know, luckily...
his flask caught the slug.
So he only suffered a few cuts
when he fell backwards into a plate glass window.
Oh, my.
You know, normally I scold patients
who knock back too much booze,
but in this case your husband's drinking problem...
came in quite handy.
I guess, uh, you'd like to see him now.
I guess I would.
Nurse, this is Mr. Fillcot's wife.
Oh, he's coming out of sedation.
I'm not sure he's able to talk yet.
I just need a moment. Thank you.
Thank you.
Uh, if you could just close the door.
Bertram, wake up.
-Wake up! -Wh-What?!
Why? What's happened?
We're in trouble.
Vern suspects that we were involved
in Carlo and Isabel's deaths.
We have to stop him before he goes to the police.
And how do we do that?
I think you know what needs to be done.
You mean kill him?
But he's family.
Only an in-law.
But Dee loves him.
Not after he turns us in.
She'll be furious.
She'll probably divorce him.
So all things being equal...
No.
No, I won't hurt Vern.
For God's sake, we could get the chair.
Is that what you want?
I don't know.
Let me sleep on it.
Bertram, please.
It's all falling apart.
I don't know what to do.
Dee knows about Mrs. Yost.
We'd never get away with it.
-Bertram?
Bertram!
With Bertram's words ringing in her ears,
Alma's madness overtook her.
She racked her brain,
thinking of potential assassins.
Someone willing to help a housewife in need.
But when she came up short...
Nurse, excuse me.
May I ask you a question?
...fate stepped in with a suggestion.
When will the doctor allow Scooter to leave?
We're hoping to take a train out to New York tonight.
He should be discharged by 4:00.
-Thank you. -Mm-hmm.
Hmm.
Hello, Scooter.
Uh, hi.
I'm sorry. Have we met?
No, but I feel like we have.
I've heard so much about you from my daughter.
Dee Fillcot?
You're Dee's mom?
Oh, so you do remember her?
That's encouraging, anyway.
Well, how is she?
She's pregnant, that's how she is.
And to answer your next question,
yes...
it's yours.
I feel a man has a right to know
when he's going to be a daddy.
Of course I feel awful telling you this,
while you're here recovering from...
what are you here for?
I got shot.
There's a lot of that going around.
Well, why didn't Dee tell me about this?
Well, Vern told her not to.
Vern Loomis?
The detective?
He wanted to marry Dee, and he did.
Did you not know that?
No.
Oh, no.
I can only imagine how upset you must be.
Mostly I'm in shock.
Now, don't be noble.
Vern basically stole your child.
You're allowed to resent him.
Hate him, even.
I don't know how I feel.
You're throwing a lot at me here.
I'm sorry.
But at least you finally know the truth.
Anyway, I'll go.
You just lie here and try to control your rage.
Look, if I knew anything about Mrs. Yost, I would tell you.
There is no if.
We found your fingerprints on all the valuables
that went missing from her house.
Well, if you found them,
that means they're not missing, right?
Don't get cute.
They turned up in a closet
Mrs. Yost's nephew had already searched,
after he told you exactly what went missing.
It's time to fess up, Dee.
That's Mrs. Loomis to you.
And I say it's all just a big coincidence.
Well, listen...
I'm not suggesting
you had anything to do with Mrs. Yost's disappearance.
Well, good, 'cause I didn't.
But I do think you're covering for someone.
Like who?
What size shoe does your dad wear?
It's okay.
I'm sorry, Detective.
I told him you were busy.
That's all right, Sheila.
How can I help you, buddy?
You can let me take my wife home.
We're not done with her yet.
We think she knows something
about the disappearance of one Carol Yost.
I'm asking you as a friend.
I got lots of friends.
Well, how many of them carried you on their back for a mile
under enemy fire in Marseille?
Yeah.
I'm finally calling that favor in.
Come on. I got a job to do here.
If she knows something...
I know more than she does.
Just give me a day.
I'll bring you everything I got, wrapped up in a bow.
So what's the deal?
Why does Rohbin think you know something
about that missing lady?
'Cause I do.
You want to clue me in?
Sure, but prepare yourself.
I'm gonna tell you stuff about my parents
that will shock you.
I don't think I'll be as shocked as you think.
Alma?
Mavis, what a lovely surprise.
I'm so glad I ran into you.
Ada Coy left the oddest message.
She said that you had moved up the Garden Club election?
We're having it tonight?
I'm running unopposed,
so it's not like we need time for campaigning.
Most of the ladies are available this evening,
so I figured, "Why not"?
Well, where will we meet?
Chez Magnifique, 6:00 p.m.
Jean-Luc is taking care of everything.
There's even going to be a cake with garden-themed frosting.
Oh, you're going to make a wonderful president,
with that eye you have for details.
I always say the key to success is planning ahead.
We'll see you tonight.
-Mm-hmm. -Mm-hmm.
A gun?
You scared me.
I scared you?
Oh... I assumed you'd call me
when you were released from the hospital.
Yes, I did.
You were out shopping.
Don't act so shocked.
We discussed the Vern situation at the hospital.
No, you discussed it.
I laid there in a stupor, hoping I was hallucinating.
Relax.
I've got it all planned out,
and I can handle it myself tonight.
Tonight?
You're going to shoot our son-in-law tonight?
It's the only way my plan will work.
Come see what else I bought.
Hmm.
Alma, this is madness.
Dee found a body in our garden.
If Vern gets shot, who's she going to blame?
Scooter Polarsky.
Who is Scooter Polarsky?
The father of Dee's baby.
I saw him at the hospital, told him Dee was pregnant,
and stole one of his cuff links.
Now, should I wear the red or the gold?
You told him about the baby? But-but-but why?
So he'd have a motive.
I'll call Dee tonight, tell her that I've torn a stocking
and I need her to bring a new pair to the restaurant.
While she's buying them, I'll ring their doorbell,
shoot Vern, and then leave by the fire escape,
dropping one of Scooter's cuff links by the window.
Scooter and Rita are leaving for New York at 9:00.
So the police will just think that he's run away.
Now, how should I wear my hair?
With that stole, an updo might be nice,
with the right earrings.
No.
I should wear it down?
-I can't let you do this. -Let me?
I'm not asking permission.
It's too risky.
The only real risk is doing nothing.
Bertram...
I like Vern, too.
I do, but...
He must be dealt with.
Then let me do it.
What?
I'm the one that put you in danger.
I should be the one to save you.
Save me?
It's all my fault, all of it.
What happened to us.
What you've done.
What you've become.
I don't regret what I've become.
No, I regret what I was.
A timid little nobody.
Too afraid to ask for attention or power
or anything else worth having.
But that woman is dead.
Now, when I want something, I take it.
When I have a problem, I fix it by myself,
without help from you or anyone else.
And let me tell you...
it feels damn good.
Alma.
All I want is your happiness.
Let me prove it to you by dealing with Vern.
Also, it's your, your big night tonight, isn't it?
You want to enjoy it?
Think what all that shooting and escaping
will do to your hair.
That is a good point.
Very well.
You may save me.
I can't believe that bitch told you.
Today, of all days?
I can't believe you knew I had a kid and didn't say a word.
Where are you going?
Where do you think?
I'm going to find Dee.
How long will that take?
The train for New York leaves at 9:00.
I'm not sure I want to go now.
Scooter, we just made plans.
Dee's having my kid.
And I got to do right by her.
But she doesn't need you.
She's married to the detective.
Well, maybe my kid needs me.
Scooter.
You're right.
Of course you have to think about the child.
Thank you for understanding.
After you talk to Dee,
can you just meet me at O'Dwyer's Tavern around 6:00?
To let me know the score?
Maybe.
Geez, Rita.
I really wish you had told me about the baby.
It's not possible.
Honey, think about it.
They had the means to kill Carlo and a motive.
The same for Isabel.
Getting into a garden club is not a motive.
It's insane.
My parents are good people.
Tell that to the corpse under their birdbath.
They explained that.
To your satisfaction, not to mine,
and not to Rohbin's.
Well, you, you can't tell him any of this.
Are you asking me to look the other way?
Is that what you want?
They're my parents.
Okay. Okay.
Let's say I keep my theories to myself.
But Rohbin still thinks you're involved.
He's got your fingerprints on her stuff.
-He's not going to let that go. -But I didn't do anything wrong.
Until you tell him what you know,
you're an accessory after the fact
to whatever your parents did.
Do you want our baby born in jail?
No.
Then let's go back to the station.
We tell Rohbin what we know,
and we let the chips fall where they may.
No.
Dee.
I just got to think about this, okay?
I just...
I got to figure this out.
Scooter.
What are you doing here?
I need to talk to you. You got a sec?
Now is really not a good time.
I know about our baby.
Ah, geez.
Rita.
Oh.
Hello, Grace.
Taking a trip?
Yeah.
You and your friends in the coven had me banished. Remember?
Oh, Rita.
The way the club turned on you was disgraceful.
And I didn't say a word in your defense.
But I have come to know
what betrayal feels like and,
well, I'm truly sorry.
Thank you.
That means more than you can imagine.
Oh.
And, for what it's worth, I've just left the club, too.
Really?
Why?
Lots of reasons.
But mostly I can't stand the idea
of sitting through Alma's inauguration tonight.
Alma is the new president?
How is that possible?
Here's what I've come to learn
she is a sweet-talking vampire,
and if she'd fought for the Nazis,
we'd all be speaking German.
I thought you liked her.
What changed?
I got in her way.
Found out how ruthless she is.
Ruthless?
Alma?
Why are you surprised?
You crossed her. Look what happened to you.
What are you talking about?
No one benefited from you going to jail
more than Alma.
How would you like to talk...
over lunch?
-Hello? Hello.
-Oh, Mr. Fillcot. -I hear you had
a rather interesting conversation
with my wife last night.
We did.
And if you have questions for me, you can just ask.
There's no need to break into my home.
Yeah, sorry about that.
I'm at my clinic, working late.
And if you can drop by in the next hour or so,
I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have.
Okay, Mr. Fillcot.
We'll see you then.
You could have at least given me the chance
to do the right thing.
You have big dreams, Scooter.
I didn't want to be the gal
who kept you from being a movie star.
Well, that's not looking likely.
Well, don't give up.
Hollywood needs handsome guys like you.
Actually, I was thinking about going to New York.
But if you need me to be here, to help with the baby.
No. No.
Vern and I got it covered.
Hey, um...
When the kid gets older,
will you tell him about me?
Sure. Sure.
So, you think it'll be a boy?
Yeah.
And if I do make it,
tell him I'll buy him whatever he wants.
I'm hoping you gave him your good looks.
That would be gift enough.
Be better for him if he looks like an average Joe.
That way, he won't expect so much from the world.
Small dreams.
That's the way to go.
Listen, I got to go.
I'm dealing with a big family thing. So...
Oh, sure. Uh...
Well, thank you for hearing me out.
And thank your mom for me as well.
My mom?
Yeah. She's the one who told me about the baby.
Mom?
Are you here?
We need to talk!
-Mom. -Deirdra?
Ah.
What a nice surprise.
Have you come to see me off for my big night?
I spoke to Scooter.
Why did you tell him I was pregnant?
You spoke to Scooter?
I thought he was still in the hospital.
They released him.
Can we talk about this later?
I'm late for my inauguration.
There's something else.
Shoot. I've misplaced my lipstick.
If you could just help me look for it...
I've also spoken to Vern.
He's been working for Rita,
trying to prove she was framed for Carlo's death.
He shared his theory with me...
about who the real killers are.
Well... did he also tell you
that he broke into our home last night?
I caught him in the act.
Then he tried to change the subject by hurling all sorts
of vile lies at me.
So I threw him out.
Obviously, Vern was livid.
So you can't believe a word he says.
Vern tried to convince me you and Daddy are involved,
but I refused to believe him.
Of course you did.
I told him you and Daddy were good people,
incapable of murder.
Exactly.
Now, if I could just find that lipstick.
Oh.
But that brings me back to Scooter.
Why tell him I was pregnant?
Scooter said you expected him to be angry at the news.
I just keep thinking,
if you thought he'd be angry, why tell him?
Did you hope he'd become violent
and hurt Vern?
Oh, but you couldn't want that.
Unless...
Vern had uncovered the truth.
You haven't said a thing about the way I look.
What?
All of the work that I've put in
on my hair and my nails.
My clothes.
It's all come together.
Surely, you must have noticed.
Mom.
What are you doing?
I think...
when a woman's come as far as I have, that...
...well, it's a sin not to tell her she's beautiful.
Hello?
Mr. Fillcot.
Ah.
Vern.
Thanks for coming.
You're admiring my collection, I see.
I had to rescue that from a garbage can.
Been hiding it here ever since.
Must be valuable.
Only to me.
In fact,
this silly, little box
is the reason we're both here tonight.
You don't understand.
But you will.
So...
Dee told me about Mrs. Yost.
Yes.
I thought she might have.
Good for her. Hmm.
Would you like a drink?
I think we could both use one.
Yes.
Hey.
I'm wondering if my lady friend is here.
Her name is Rita.
She's supposed to be waiting for me.
Uh, I don't think she's here, buddy.
Can I get you something in the meantime?
Uh, yeah. Uh, let me get a, uh...
Uh...
Actually, I'll just wait till she gets here.
Ladies.
-Ah. -Alma, you're a vision.
Oh, I love that stole.
Well, I thought the occasion called for a little glamour.
So what's the program tonight?
When do I speak?
First, we let everyone get nicely snockered.
And then I give an endless speech,
thanking everyone who did anything
for the club for the entire year,
And then I say,
"And now, for the woman of the hour..."
Good Lord.
Is that Rita?
What is she doing here?
Mrs. Fillcot?
-A moment. -Yes?
That woman outside asked me to give this to you.
Thank you, Maximilian.
You want to tell me about your girlfriend?
The one in your garden?
Carol Yost was not my girlfriend.
I have never cheated on my wife.
But your wife told Dee...
She lied.
That's all she's been doing for the last two months.
Just telling one lie after another.
And for nothing.
I'm confused.
What exactly has Mrs. Fillcot been lying about?
Mm...
She wouldn't want me to tell you.
She'd want me to spin one more lie.
Just you and me, all alone,
far as I know.
Tell me what's going on.
Yes.
We are all alone.
First, I must apologize.
Please know that this is not easy for me.
Hello?
Thank you for seeing me.
Will this take long?
My inauguration is about to begin.
I know.
I should start by saying
congratulations, Madam President.
What a meteoric rise.
I do not miss your sarcasm.
Go on.
Ask your question.
Did you kill Carlo?
I beg your pardon?
You did, didn't you?
And you put that syringe in my purse to frame me.
Why didn't I see it?
I thought about Isabel, who at least had a reason.
I thought about Catherine and Carlo's business rivals, but...
not once did I think about you.
Of course not.
Women like you always underestimate women like me.
Wallflowers.
Plain, unpopular girls.
You don't know what it's like to trudge through life
begging women like you
to please, just...
look at me.
I admired you so much.
I wanted so badly to be your friend.
If you hadn't been cruel, I...
You what?
Finish that sentence.
No.
I have to go.
You wouldn't have killed my husband?
Let go of me, or I'll have you arrested.
Come on, Alma, confess.
You'll feel so much better.
God, I wish you were still in jail.
If the police hadn't found that damn postcard
letting you off the hook.
Postcard?
Yes, the maid's confession.
Don't look at me like that.
It was in all the papers.
The papers...
...said she left a note.
None of them said it was on a postcard.
You murdered Isabel, too.
Now, hold on.
I knew she wouldn't have killed herself.
I... I knew it.
Whatever it is you think you know,
you can't prove anything.
Perhaps not.
But I can certainly make some noise.
No, you are not going in there.
Good point.
News like this deserves to come in through the front door.
And a big thank you to Sonia Clark
for organizing this year's lecture series on exotic blooms.
Oh! And now...
the moment we have all been waiting for.
Ladies and gentleman,
It is my honor to introduce a terrific lady
who just happens to be
our brand-new president.
Alma Fillcot!
Thank you.
Thank you all so much.
We have seen some dark days.
My predecessor in this job let you all down.
Her shocking behavior and brazen deceptions
left this once noble club
mired in scandal.
But where she brought our reputation low...
...together... we will raise it high.
Hear, hear.
Alma.
Is that blood?
Oh, no, that-that's, um...
Someone call the cops.
There's a dead woman in the alley.
-What? -What's happening?
Alma?
Oh, my goodness...
Alma.
I'm looking for Rita Castillo.
I know she comes here a lot.
Have you seen her?
Bertie?
Where are you?
Hello, my love.
What is all this?
I took the blame for all of it.
For every death.
And I told Vern you were innocent of any crime.
I even gave him your gun as a show of good faith.
He's still alive?
-You said... -I said I'd save you.
And I did.
If you had killed him, you'd have been caught.
And, well, Dee loves him so much.
All we've ever wanted is for her to be happy.
So...
I also asked Vern to give me
some time to say goodbye to you before he phones the police.
Goodbye?
I've decided to help myself.
Like I helped so many others.
That way, you'll be spared the pain of a trial.
Darling.
Why is there blood on your stole?
Um...
I just killed Rita.
Alma.
She figured it all out.
She was going to tell.
I can't keep up with you.
You're always a bloody murder ahead of me.
What am I going to do?
The police are going to come.
I can't go to jail.
Perhaps you'd like to come with me?
Soon, people will learn our most sordid secrets,
and they'll hate us.
Let's leave while the choice is still ours.
Give me one second.
Bertie...
Everyone deserves a beautiful death.
Even us.
We don't have to do this.
What?
We're giving up too easily.
I can say that, that Rita threatened me
and I was just defending myself.
She can't contradict me now that she's dead.
But, darling...
I can handle the police.
I'll think of some kind of story.
I think it's a bit late for that.
No, I'm-I'm good at that, thinking on my feet.
Yes. That's something I've learned about myself.
Beauty is nice, but...
it's so much more useful to be clever.
And maybe just a, just a little bit ruthless.
Do you know what I mean?
Bertram.
Bertie.
Goodbye, my beautiful girl.
Hurry. They'll be here any second.
Mom.
Dad, I need to talk to you!
Daddy.
Dad.
Mom?
What are you doing?
Your beloved father has died, my darling.
I just...
wanted a little memento to remember him by.
And this is how the gruesome love story
of Mr. and Mrs. Fillcot
came to its inevitable conclusion.
Alma was quickly arrested.
And the police went to work digging up evidence.
The scandal lent a bit of fame to all of those involved.
And some...
were happy for the attention.
The trial was over quickly
and was covered by every newspaper
in the country.
And the woman whose only ambition in life
was to be noticed found herself
the most famous murderess in American history.
And while she knew that infamy
was not the same as glory,
Alma found, if she just squinted a bit,
the two blurred together
quite nicely.
Even the jeers of the crowd crying for her blood
sounded to her
like the cheers of adoring fans.
Yes, on the day she was sentenced to die,
Alma got what she had wanted
her whole life.
People were finally looking at her.
And each one of them
knew her name.
And for a middle-aged woman
who had gone unnoticed for so long...
it was truly
a happy ending.