Sir?
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
Obviously, you're saying one of us killed him.
I never saw that man before.
Happened about 15 years ago, didn't it?
I was in the bar, having a drink.
I have no idea who this poor, dead fellow is.
If I wanted to knock this guy off, I would've shot him.
I was working on the engine the whole time.
I don't have to answer your questions, lady.
Oh, did you reach them?
Yeah, said we'd be there about eight.
Probably miss the hors d'oeuvres.
Well, no serious loss, I'm sure.
Ms. Fletcher, the Maine Sheriffs' Association
lays out the finest spread east of the Allegheny.
Oh, Amos.
Anyway, we'll be there in time for the drawing.
They're giving away a big-screen TV,
and I got a feeling it's my lucky night.
Oh, I sure hope so, Amos.
Mm, would you get that to the garage?
I'll go get the tickets.
- What do you hope to gain? - I'm not sure.
Look, honey, nobody's forcing you to come.
Besides, it's between him and me.
- Well, I'm coming along, Steve. - You suit yourself.
Just don't get in my way.
- Headin' for Boston? - Oh, Portland.
A-yah. I like these local buses.
You can sit back and relax and enjoy yourself.
Mmm, well, most people can't find the time.
Yeah, ridin' hard and fast
toward a date with the gravedigger.
Smell that air.
Be rain in 20 minutes. You watch.
Cyrus Leffingwell.
Oh, Jessica Fletcher.
Here she comes.
Afternoon, folks. This is the local bus to Boston.
Stopping at Newcastle, Brunswick, Portland,
Kennebunk, Dover, Portsmouth, Amesbury, and Ipswich.
Be leaving in three minutes. Thank you.
Here's your ticket, Ms. Fletcher.
Oh, thank you, Amos.
- Oh! Forgot the bags. - Ah.
Uh, my friend is bringing our things.
We just have a couple of overnight bags.
We don't need to stow them.
Yes'um.
Doesn't Andy Reardon usually run this route?
Yes'um. Took sick with the flu.
Oh, that's too bad.
Here we are. Ms. Fletcher.
Ah, great. Thank you.
- We better get on board. - Okay.
- Kent. - Hmm?
Do you know who that is?
Somebody from the college?
No. That's JB Fletcher.
Oh, didn't recognize him.
Her, her, Kent.
She writes wonderful whodunits.
Really.
Driver says we'll be there with time to spare.
Mm-hmm.
Anyway, the drawing isn't until
the end of the evening.
That way they make sure
that no one walks out on them too early.
Oh, not that they would, Ms. Fletcher.
I mean, you're gonna have those fellas
eatin' out of your hand.
Sounds a bit messy to me, Amos.
Mm.
Next stop, Newcastle.
Where you headed?
Uh, Portland.
It's nine, sixty.
What's the trouble?
Power lines are down.
You can get through, but watch it.
There's a lot of flooding up ahead.
Is the road open?
Yeah, but I don't know for how long.
- Okay. Thank you. - Take care.
Excuse me.
You're JB Fletcher, aren't you?
- Yes, I am. - Oh, I thought so.
I think you are a wonderful writer.
Why, thank you.
In fact, you're in the top ten of my "most stolen" list.
Your what?
Most stolen. I'm a librarian.
We have had to replace copies of your books...
a dozen times over the last couple of years.
People check them out
and absolutely will not return them.
Well, I'm very flattered, I think.
Oh, I'm glad you came by.
No way out of that mess till morning.
How much to Portland?
Nine, sixty.
Say, weren't you following us for quite a while?
I sure was.
Thought I'd be safer with you running interference.
Sorry I passed you now. Thank you.
Uh, sorry, folks, we, uh, seem to be having
a little engine trouble.
It's probably the wet.
You can get out and stretch your legs
if you want while I check it out.
Well, that didn't take long.
No, but this isn't Portland.
It isn't?
No, let's get out and get some coffee.
At this rate, we're gonna miss the fruit cup.
Steve, please.
Why don't you just let it be?
I told you to just stay out of this.
Now, go on.
Well, howdy, folks.
Come on in. Set yourselves down.
- Thank you. - How'd you get through?
The radio said the Rockwater Creek bridge
is washed out.
We're coming on down from Cabot Cove.
Is that so?
They were stopping traffic they said.
We must be the last ones to get through.
- Well, we seem to be. - Mighty fierce storm.
Reminds me of Agnes back in '72.
I remember that one.
They were just building the interstate.
Oh, I'm soaked.
Can you tell me where the restroom is, please?
Yeah, right down the hallway on your right.
Thank you.
Hello, do you think I might get a cup of black coffee, please?
Oh, two, please.
I wish now I hadn't sent the help home.
Uh, would it be too much trouble
to have a cup of tea?
- Comin' right up. - Thank you.
Is there somewhere a man can get a drink?
Yeah, in the bar.
It's closed now, but if you can hold on a mite,
I'll open it.
Fine.
This is the time of year of the storms, of course.
Statistically speaking,
the chance of rain on any day at this time of year are about two to one.
As you can see, my husband's mind is cluttered
with all sorts of interesting trivia.
Better a little cluttered than an empty attic.
You'd been able to afford plane fare, we wouldn't be stuck in this place now.
Oh, I don't know.
Many a night I've been trapped in a storm-ridden airport.
Never bothered me.
As my late wife used to say, rest her soul...
"Only a fool grows ulcers over something he can't control."
Excuse me.
Well, maybe we oughta take a look at the menu.
Here's a menu for you, ma'am.
Thank you, Amos.
I figure things the way they are,
we should get something to eat.
Probably gonna miss the potato soup.
I would think so.
I sure am sorry, ma'am.
This is turning into a miserable trip.
Oh, don't be silly, Amos. Who knows?
We may be still in time for my speech.
I sure hope so.
- Do you have a phone here, somewhere? - Yeah, there's a payphone outside.
- Here's your tea, ma'am. - Thank you very much.
Get you folks something to eat?
Well, I couldn't help but notice that apple pie over there.
- It looks homemade. - My own recipe.
Would you make that two with a slice of cheddar
- and some black coffee, please? - Coming right up!
Sure had my heart set on that TV set.
Our host is quite a baker.
Yeah, could use a touch more cinnamon.
I better call Portland, tell 'em what's happened.
- Are we leaving now? - I'm afraid not.
I just came in to dry off a bit.
Wonder what happened to that book?
Excuse me, Sir, Sir?
Well, I suppose we should notify the bus driver,
and, uh, well, I don't suppose we should move the body
until the local coroner arrives.
Amos, I know this isn't under your jurisdiction,
but, I mean, the situation's obvious.
You or I or one of them...
Yes, ma'am. I see what you mean.
Well, whoever killed him went through his pockets.
- Ironic, isn't it? - What's that?
Well, a man is released from prison,
ready to start a new life,
only to have it cut short only a few hours later.
Well, now, why do you say that?
He could have just as easily been a visitor
or a guard home for the weekend.
I don't think so.
That's a new suit, Amos, and those are new shoes.
He paid for his ticket with crisp, new bills.
Hello, what's this?
Well, you're right.
Here's his release paper. Name is Gilbert Stoner.
- Stoner. - Mm-hmm.
Well, the motive certainly was not robbery.
There's money in the billfold.
Anything else?
Just an out-of-date driver's license
and a photograph.
Someone was looking for something.
Ah.
Amos, his suitcase is missing.
Oh, I see you had the same idea I did.
I thought just as long as we'd stopped here I'd get--
Miriam. Darling, please, it's all right.
It's not all right.
You didn't see him sitting there with that...
That thing sticking out... of his neck.
I tried to call the police.
The lines are dead.
- Probably knocked out by the storm. - Dead?
Do you mean to tell me we're stuck here
with that killer on the loose?
Why he'll just probably kill us all, one by one.
Here's some nice, fresh coffee, ma'am.
It'll take the chill off and... help stop your shakes.
How do I know it's not you. How do I know you're not trying to poison me?
All right. Thank you, I'm sorry.
Coffee's on the house, everyone.
Uh, folks, name is Amos Tupper.
I'm the sheriff of Cabot Cove.
I realize I have no official jurisdiction here,
but as an officer of the law,
I do have an obligation to assume authority
until the local police arrive.
And, uh, I would appreciate all of your cooperation.
Well, I'm sure we'd all be happy to do so, sheriff, but,
uh, I never saw that man before.
Name is Stoner, Gilbert Stoner.
He was released from prison this afternoon.
Amos, excuse me,
but there is something that I seem to remember.
I came across that name doing research for a book.
It had to do with a robbery.
I think it was a bank in Augusta.
Wait a minute.
Stoner, Stoner... the Danvers Trust Company.
Sure, I remember that one.
It was all over the TV for weeks.
Happened about 15 years ago, didn't it?
Yes, of course.
Three men pulled that off.
They were apprehended, I believe.
A-yah, at least one of 'em was.
Amos, it might be helpful
to establish just where everyone was.
Oh, that's good thinking, Ms. Fletcher.
And, uh, I'm also gonna need to know all of your names
and why you were on this bus.
Now, just a moment--
Obviously, you're saying one of us killed him.
I think "obvious" is the right word, Sir.
Unless, of course, this Stoner fellow
somehow managed to reach up behind his head
and stab himself in the back of the neck
with a ten-inch screwdriver.
I have nothing to hide.
My name is, uh, Ken Bradford. This is my wife, Miriam.
I'm a math teacher at St. Eustis college.
Associate professor.
My wife is a college librarian.
The head librarian.
And we're on our way to Boston to do research.
I was in the video alcove, over there.
I was, uh, playing "Road Hog."
"Road Hog"?
Yeah I'm a student of statistical probabilities and eh,
the game has challenging mathematical parameters.
Also it's fun!
He's telling the truth.
I heard him playing the game when I was in the gift shop.
And you're--
Cyrus Leffingwell, Woonsocket, Rhode Island.
I'm a retired postal worker, mailman.
But I have no idea who this poor, dead fellow is.
What about you?
Steve Pascal, computer engineer.
This is my wife, Jane. We were on our way to Portland.
I was here the whole time.
And I was outside using the public phone.
I couldn't get through and, eventually,
the line went dead.
Excuse me, Mr. Pascal,
but I believe I saw you through the window
talking with Mr. Stoner on the bus.
You appeared to be having a very heated discussion.
No, not at all.
We just exchanged a few words, that's all.
And you?
I'm Joe Downing.
I'm captain of the fishing trawler,
Mary Sue out of Gloucester.
Going back to my ship after visiting family, and,
like this gentleman,
I've never heard of the dead man before.
I was in the bar having a drink.
Carey Drayson.
I was in the men's room drying off my clothes
on the radiator.
If my car hadn't skidded off the road,
I wouldn't even have been here.
Mr. Drayson, that may be true,
but under the circumstances I'd feel a lot better
if you explained to the sheriff why you're wearing a gun.
- A gun? - Oh, good Lord, Kent!
This is my permit to carry a concealed weapon.
I'm a jewelry salesman.
I carry valuables in that case, and I have to protect myself.
All the same, I think it would be better
if you handed it over.
Well, I'm sorry, sheriff.
Like you said, you have no jurisdiction here.
If there's a killer on the loose,
I want to protect myself.
Besides, if I wanted to knock this guy off,
I would've shot him, not used a screwdriver.
Yes, I was gonna ask you about that.
Hey, wait a minute.
I left my toolbox open in the front of the bus.
Anybody could've taken that screwdriver out,
anybody in this room.
I was working on the engine the whole time.
Yes, but if you were that close,
you must've heard something.
Well, I heard voices raised, and I-I thought I heard
somebody getting on and off the bus,
but I didn't pay much attention.
Oh!
This is a fearsome storm.
Mr. Pascal, you'll forgive me,
but you and the victim were not, as you claimed,
having a quiet discussion.
I'm also quite sure that your resemblance
to the gentleman in this photo is more than coincidental.
It would be very helpful if you could
identify these people.
I don't have to answer your questions, lady,
not yours, not anybody's.
Steve.
Steve didn't kill that man.
I know he didn't.
Mrs. Pascal, what about the man in the photo?
He was Steve's father.
Was?
He was killed during the Danvers robbery,
along with an innocent bystander, a woman.
Stoner and the other man got away,
but they caught Stoner three days later.
But the other man, what happened to him?
They never caught him,
and they never recovered the money from the robbery.
As I recall, it was about $200,000.
Over half a million.
Ma'am, this, uh, missing fella,
do you or your husband know who he was?
- No, I'm sorry. - Mm.
I better take charge of this.
It's probably best if we all stick together.
Ralph, why don't you put on another pot of coffee, huh?
Good idea.
- Who is in there? - Uh, no one.
But that's just the point.
And down at the end of this hallway
is a door leading to the outside.
Huh, that means that the professor
could've gone outside without being seen.
And so could've the mailman
or any of the others for that matter.
And-and there's a door that leads to the outside
from the bar and one in the kitchen.
So where does that leave us?
Outside.
- What? - You were gonna check outside.
Oh. Yes, ma'am, I sure was.
You wanna come along?
- Oh, absolutely. - Okay.
Well, bus driver was right.
Anyone could've taken the screwdriver out.
That's true.
Excuse me, Amos.
Yeah.
- What ya looking for? - I wish I knew.
Hey, wait a minute. Why is that on?
- Well, what is it? - That's a damper switch.
I used to be a bus driver for a whole summer
before I joined the department.
Excuse me, Ms. Fletcher, I gotta check something out.
- I wanna talk to you. - I thought you might.
Look, I'm sorry I lost my temper in there,
but I didn't kill Stoner.
Mr. Pascal, could you please help me with this suitcase?
Everything's getting wetter by the minute and so am I.
This clothing has been ripped apart.
Well, maybe they found what they were looking for.
Maybe not.
Mr. Stoner had a--had an overcoat and a book with him.
Now that should've been with the suitcase.
It doesn't make sense.
Hmm.
Mr. Pascal, suppose you tell the sherriff,
what you and Mr. Stoner argued about.
Yeah, why not?
I was in junior high school when my dad was killed.
From that day on, my life was hell. I mean...
I was the son of a thief.
All right, it's true. I took the bus in order to meet Stoner
because I wanted my father's share of the money. After what I've been through
I figured I deserved it.
At least, that's what I thought, until I talked to him.
What did he say to you that made you change your mind?
It wasn't what he said, it's what he was...
A mean, pitiful wreck of a man.
His scheme ruined his entire life just like it ruined my father's.
I made up my mind, it wasn't going to ruin mine
so I just walked away from him and left him alone on the bus.
And that was it?
My wife was right... It's better to let the past remain what it is.
Mr. Pascal, I need to know one more thing.
How did you know that Mr. Stoner was going to be released today?
That's no secret, in Tuesday's newspaper.
Let me see that.
"Notorious bank robber to be released.
Fifteen years ago, Danvers Trust Company"
Ah, here's something.
"During the thieves' escape attempt,
an innocent bystander, Julie Gibbons, 16, was killed,
along with one of the criminals, Everett Pascal."
Gibbons?
That's right, Julie Gibbons.
And our bus driver is named Ben Gibbons.
Well, that seals it then, huh?
Seals what, Amos?
You may not believe this, Ms. Fletcher,
but I knew who our killer was a half hour ago.
As I said, I have no official jurisdiction here.
But I can make a citizen's arrest,
and that's what I plan to do.
Ben Gibbons, I'm placing you under arrest
for the murder of Gilbert Stoner.
You're crazy. I didn't do it.
Oh, yes, you did.
When Ms. Fletcher turned on the ignition key in the bus,
I noticed that the damper switch was on.
Now, that's an emergency switch to be used only when the engine
starts to run away.
The engine can't be started again
once that switch is thrown
without the damper being reset by hand.
- Amos, are you sure? - Yes, ma'am.
Now, the damper is in the engine compartment
way in the back, and you can't reach it
without using some kind of a tool
like a very long screwdriver.
Now, that means that nobody took that screwdriver
out of your tool kit,
because you had it with you all the time.
Mr. Gibbons, at the time of the holdup,
an innocent bystander was killed,
a young woman named Julie Gibbons.
She was my daughter.
Suppose you tell us what happened.
A day hasn't gone by that I haven't thought of
revenging her death.
Then I heard that Stoner was gonna be let out.
I traded routes with the regular bus driver.
You were right.
I staged the bus breakdown,
and I went back and worked on the damper,
waiting for him to be alone.
When I went back in the bus,
he was sleeping in his seat like a baby,
like he didn't have her blood on his conscience.
That he should be alive and my little girl dead,
I just went crazy.
I raised up my arm and drove that screwdriver
down into his neck.
Well, thank God that's over with.
I wish it were, Mr. Leffingwell.
But, I'm sorry. It isn't.
That man was not killed by the screwdriver.
Now hold on, ma'am. You just heard his confession.
Yes, yes, Amos, and I'm sure that Mr. Gibbons
is convinced that he killed Mr. Stoner.
Oh, he stabbed him all right.
But Stoner was not sleeping. He was already dead.
That's preposterous.
How could you possibly know that?
Because, Mr. Drayson, there was virtually no blood
on the screwdriver and very little around the wound.
- She's right. - How can that be?
Postmortem lividity.
I should've thought of it at the time.
The blood had begun to settle in the lower parts of the body.
He was killed earlier, oh, at least 15 or 20 minutes.
The bruises on his neck.
But-but, he was sleeping. I know it.
I killed him. I know I did!
I'm sorry, Mr. Gibbons,
but I'm sure that the coroner will confirm
that he died of strangulation, not stabbing.
- Kent, how can you eat? - Why not? Being hungry doesn't help.
No good. Phone's still out.
You'd think the state police would stop by,
if only to check on things.
Mm.
My son has a CB back in the office.
I don't know how to use it, but if anyone else does,
they're more than welcome to try.
Oh, I know how. Let me see it.
Sure thing. Back this way.
That's more like it.
Last year, took my vacation in Hawaii, it rained.
Year before that, Athens. It rained.
- This year, rained again. - Next year, try North Africa,
They have the smallest amount of rainfall in the world.
Statistically speaking of course.
Never had much use for camels.
This is Carey Drayson,
calling from the Kozy Korner Kitchen
on Route one.
Is anyone receiving me? Over, please.
Any luck?
Route one calling.
Anyone receiving me? Over, please.
Maybe it's too much to expect in this weather.
Yeah, maybe.
Mr. Drayson, I don't want to appear rude,
but for a man who carries a gun, you're awfully careless.
What is that supposed to mean?
You left a valuable jewelry sample case in the other room.
Anyone with sticky fingers or big pockets
could've left you holding an empty bag.
That is, if the case contained jewelry,
which I seriously doubt.
Would you mind if Sheriff Tupper took a look inside?
Uh, don't bother, Ms. Fletcher.
I'm an investigator for the company
that insured the Danvers Trust robbery.
And you've been assigned to follow Mr. Stoner
from the prison in the hope
that he'll lead you to the stolen money.
That's right.
Looks like that'll be a little more difficult now.
Yes, I should think so.
On the other hand, perhaps all is not lost.
If we find the killer, maybe we'll find the money too.
Well, I'm not sure it's that simple.
Kent and I didn't want children.
Of course, it's just as well. On our salaries, who can afford them?
You think we can?
Thanks.
Amos, obviously, who ever took Stoner's suitcase
was looking for something. The question is, did they find it?
More than likely, it was Stoner's ex-partner.
Which one of these fellas is it?
Is it the mailman or the college professor, the sea captain?
- Could even be Ralph. - See the part that doesn't fit is this:
If Stoner's suitcase showed up, where's his overcoat?
And that book that he carried?
Yeah, there's something odd about that.
Unless... Amos, let's go!
- Go? Go where? - To the bus.
But Mrs. Fletcher, it's mighty wet out there.
Oh, I think--I think--
I think I'm catching a cold.
Hmm, just what I thought.
Oh, you think I'm catching a cold too?
This isn't where Stoner was sitting.
Is that so?
Now, I was sitting right here.
Well, this was Stoner's seat.
Aha, his overcoat and the book.
The Night The Hangman Sang by Hamilton Pound.
First edition. Huh. Strange.
The dust jacket is in tatters,
and yet some of the pages aren't even cut.
Oh, now what?
Now, just stay calm, everybody.
Ralph, have you got a flashlight?
Yeah.
Right here.
Do you have any candles?
Oh, we don't need 'em.
We have a generator out back.
We'll have plenty of light before you know it.
I'll give you a hand.
Funny, this reminds me of camp when I was a little girl,
sitting around in the dark telling ghost stories.
Only this time the monsters are real.
When was the last time you used this thing?
Two, maybe three years ago. Worked fine then.
That came from the office. Mr. Drayson.
- What happened? - He's been shot.
- It's only a flesh wound. - Drayson, who did it?
I-I don't know.
Sheriff, they smashed up the CB
someone sure doesn't want us to call out of here.
Well, whoever it is, now has the gun.
The gun seems to be missing, Ms. Fletcher.
Well, it must be around here somewhere, Amos.
I think we oughta try the phones again.
The lines may be fixed by now.
All right. Ralph, you go with him.
I don't want anybody to be left alone right now.
You understand.
You know, I think the storm is letting up.
- Damn, that hurts. - Allow me, miss.
A sailor has to know how to take care of himself
and his mates.
Because when you're on the sea,
you're on an island unto yourself, as they say.
That's fine work, Captain Downing.
Thanks.
Are you absolutely certain you can't identify
the person who hit you?
Well, I wish I could. I was calling on the CB
someone came up from behind me
and hit me in the back of the head.
I went for my gun, and it went off.
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor,
and a few minutes later you people came in.
Why would someone want to cut us off from outside?
Because his work isn't finished yet.
We're still alive.
Well, it may be less deadly than that, Mrs. Radford.
I mean, after all, our attacker could have killed Mr. Drayson
if he wanted to.
Perhaps he wanted to find something
that Stoner had and didn't want any interference
until he had located it.
- Located what? - I'm not sure.
Maybe something that might lead to the missing money.
Amos, Mr. Stoner's book has disappeared.
Oh, first the gun, now the book.
What next?
Now, wait a minute.
How could anyone steal the book
and then run back to the office and hit Drayson over the head?
There wasn't time.
They couldn't have known how long
the lights were gonna be out.
Maybe the killer had an accomplice.
If we could just establish where everyone was
before the lights went out.
Well, Steve and I were right here.
So you say.
- What is that supposed to mean? - Listen, stop fighting.
It was dark. Who knows where anybody was.
Well, the office phone's still out.
So's the pay phone.
We'll try again in a half hour or so.
Well, why don't we just try getting out of here?
Oh, no. Hey, that's too dangerous.
The road may not be open yet.
This is safe?
I'd rather take my chances on the bus.
Now, look, folks. The bus driver is right.
I'm afraid we're all stuck here for a few hours at least.
If we live that long.
Strange you should say that, Mrs. Radford.
Assuming that one of the men here
is in reality the third member of the trio
who committed the robbery.
Well, don't you think you're jumping
to an awful big conclusion, ma'am?
Well, maybe so, but one thing I do know:
there was someone on the bus that Stoner was afraid of.
I could see the look on his face
when he got on and looked at the passengers behind me.
But let's get back to the missing book.
You were right, sheriff.
There wasn't time for anyone to steal the book
and then attack Drayson.
Well, then, where would they take it?
Well, forgive me, and this is hypothetical,
but it could have been slipped into a large knitting bag.
And who better to know the value of a book
than a librarian?
That's outrageous.
And insulting as well, Mrs. Fletcher.
Why don't we take a look?
No, no, no, absolutely not.
Oh, now, for heaven's sake, Miriam.
If she wants to make a fool of herself,
why don't you just let her do it.
Here, Mrs. Fletcher, it's, um--
Well, I'll be damned.
Miriam, you took the book.
Why?
Because a dead man doesn't need the money
you can get for a rare first edition and we do.
But that's just an old detective novel.
Oh, I'm afraid not, Mr. Radford.
- You recognize it then? - Yes.
This is the only detective novel
this author ever wrote.
There are very few copies in print.
- How much is it worth? - Nearly two thousand dollars.
It would be worth even more,
but the jacket's torn, and the binding's been damaged.
It was published around the time
that Stoner was arrested.
He had it all the time.
But as the pages weren't even cut,
he didn't buy it to read.
A safe deposit key.
Is that what you were looking for, Captain Downing?
Or should I say, Mr. Downing, or whatever your name is.
I think you can drop the pretense
of being a sailor.
A real sailor would've tied a square knot.
Not a granny, as you did.
My overcoat!
I figured you wouldn't look in your own pocket.
Now stand still!
Don't anybody do anything stupid.
Mrs. Fletcher, I'll take that key now.
That makes the whole trip worthwhile.
Well, I'll say it again.
Thank goodness that's over with.
You're not gonna pin Stoner's murder on me.
I didn't kill him.
You can tell that to the local authorities
when the storm clears.
I'm telling you, sheriff.
He was already dead when I got on the bus.
Yeah, I went through his pockets.
I-I got his suitcase.
But I'm telling you, he was already dead.
So you're the one that knocked me out then?
Well, I had to. I was buying some time.
I knew that Stoner had hidden the money somewhere,
and I wanted to find out where
before we had any more cops nosing around.
So you were Stoner's other partner?
Yeah, the-the weasel double-crossed me.
He split with the money, and he hid it away.
So Mrs. Fletcher was right.
It was you he was afraid of when he got on the bus,
you he recognized in spite of that stupid getup.
I'm not stupid, Sonny.
You think I'm gonna pull something on the bus
when all the cops have to do is check to see who I was?
I mean, it wouldn't take 'em long
to put it all together,
not with my motive.
That's why it's so dumb to think I killed him
when I'm stuck here like a rat in a cage.
Like I said, the local authorities
will take charge of this when it clears.
Amos, I am--I am so sorry.
I've been so stupid, you know.
- This gentleman is telling the truth. - What?
Not only that, but you were right all along.
And forgive me for not seeing it.
I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't understand.
Oh, it's true, isn't it, Mr. Gibbons?
You did kill Mr. Stoner, didn't you?
Well, ma'am, I stabbed him in the neck.
Like you said, I told you that.
But what you didn't tell us
is that you also strangled him earlier.
You actually killed him twice.
Well, now, ma'am, I'm sorry, but--
No, Mr. Gibbons.
I'm sorry because I don't really think
you meant to kill him, but you did,
and I think it can be proved.
You sure about that?
When the sheriff and I first discovered the body,
I noticed there were small flecks of grease
on Mr. Stoner's collar and lapels.
I filed that away and then dismissed it
when you confessed to the screwdriver stabbing.
If the stabbing occurred as you said,
you never would've put your hands
on the front of his shirt or jacket.
You stabbed him from behind.
I didn't start out to kill him.
I really didn't.
I just wanted him to know how much hurt he had caused.
Everybody had got off the bus except Stoner and the young guy.
I was working around the engine, just stalling,
waiting for Stoner to be alone.
He was mean, cold-mean.
He said he didn't give a damn about some dumb kid
that just happened to get in the way.
He had done his time,
and there was nothing anybody could do.
"Dumb kid."
The sweetest little girl you ever saw in your life.
Well, all of a sudden, I just went crazy.
I couldn't think about anything but killing him.
When I got off the bus, I was shaking so hard,
I thought I was going to pass out.
I realized what I'd done.
I had killed a man.
I was no better than he had been.
Just then, I saw the captain
come out of the diner and get on the bus.
I thought I was a goner.
But when I looked in the window,
the captain was going through Stoner's pockets.
Then he grabbed the suitcase and took off.
I just--I just stood there for a few minutes
trying to figure out what to do.
That's when I knew
I had to stab him in the neck with the screwdriver.
But why?
Guess you know the answer to that.
You knew the coroner would figure out
that Stoner died of strangulation
and not a stab wound.
By confessing to killing Stoner with a screwdriver,
no one would figure you were the original killer.
As Mr. Downing said a few moments ago,
the police would check backgrounds,
prior relationships.
Downing thought he'd be a key, perhaps the only suspect.
You thought the only way to escape arrest
for Mr. Stoner's murder was to confess it.
Poor fella. I feel kind of sorry for him.
I do too, Mr. Leffingwell.
But I do think that a good lawyer
can probably make a good case for temporary insanity,
and in this case, it may be justified.
You're not joining us on the bus?
Oh, no, Sheriff Tupper and I are going back to Cabot Cove.
In that case, it's been a great pleasure, dear lady.
The pleasure was mine, Mr. Leffingwell.
Amos, what's wrong?
Well, they sure missed you at the banquet, Ms. Fletcher.
When you didn't show, Sheriff Bingley
ad-libbed a speech for almost an hour.
Bingley loves to hear the sound of his own voice.
Oh, dear.
Yeah, but that's not the worst of it.
After his speech, they had a drawing for the big TV set?
I knew we should've been there.
Oh, Amos, I'm so sorry.
But as nice as that TV set might've been,
I'm sure you can live without it.
But it wasn't my name they drew, Ms. Fletcher.
- It was yours. - What?