In the name of entertainment and the ballet...
Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.
Our good wishes will be with you always.
First we must go to the Federal authorities
and ask them to seek asylum.
Look, Ivan, I'm a stage manager with a troupe of commies.
I don't know if I'd know a Russian if I saw one.
The entire ballet is running away. And I am mired
in this insignificant little speck on the map.
If the KGB find me now, my life is over.
Doggone it, Jess, you're asking a lot.
You're the only one I can ask.
Meanwhile, at the Boston Opera Center,
where a preview performance of the Rostov Ballet
is scheduled for this afternoon, anti-Communist protesters
tangled with police who broke up
the traffic-stopping demonstration.
Oh dear.
How about that piece of pie?
Who doesn't like what's happening here.
It's a free country,
not Communist Russia.
We have a right to be heard. We don't want Red Culture here.
We have a right to be heard.
That is enough to spoil a man's appetite.
Ban the ballet!
- Ban the ballet! - The pie?
Ban the ballet!
Ban the ballet--
Gee, I hope that this won't interfere
with the special performance of the ballet today.
I still don't know why you want to go all the way to Boston just
to watch a bunch of Russians jumpin' around a stage.
Because Leo Peterson was thoughtful enough to invite me.
How is the pie?
It's delicious, as always.
- I'd tell you if it weren't. - I'm sure you would.
Good afternoon. Welcome to our special performance.
Mr. Eddington, Jessica Fletcher.
We met at the New England arts council dinner.
Oh, yes, of course, Mrs. Fletcher.
I'm delighted to see you again.
My friend, Leo Peterson.
- Mr. Peterson. - How do you do?
Mr. Eddington is the president of the arts council.
Oh, congratulations. Rostov ballet is a good choice.
I'm looking forward to the American debut
of Alexander and Natalia Masurov.
Oh, I do hope the television people
won't be in your way with their cameras.
Really? My goodness, I feel like a VIP.
Enjoy yourselves.
- Curtain in ten minutes. - Shall we?
Now you tie this off first
and then attach the snub line, okay?
All right.
Uhm...
- So, what's your name? - Irina.
Irina. I like that. Irina.
What part do you play, Irina? The sugar plum fairy?
Excuse me. I must return.
Now wait a minute, sugarplum. I've been watching you.
You and I can have some fun together.
It is not allowed.
Now, they don't have to know everything, do they?
If you ever decide to defect, you just let me know.
I'll show you a real good time.
Let her go.
You are not to associate with members of this company.
Listen, Berensky. I don't take orders from the KGB.
I'm telling you personally. Stay away from that dancer.
Don't threaten me, comrade.
I'll associate with anybody I like.
Natalia! Are you nervous?
Like a pigeon,
my heart is pounding in my chest.
Well, do not be frightened.
America will love you, just as the world loves you.
You have always been such a good friend, Irinichka.
Hmm.
Our good wishes will be with you always.
Three minutes!
Oh, I have to go.
Leo, am I mistaken,
or have you seen the Rostov ballet perform?
Oh, I have indeed. Many, many years ago.
Ha. Is that why we were favored with this special invitation?
Perhaps.
- Leo... - Shh.
Bravo! Bravo!
Take my warning seriously.
Keep your distance from Irina.
You're a real tough guy, aren't you?
What's the matter? You afraid your little dancer's gonna do
some private dancing with me?
Go ahead, Russky, try it. Just once. Please, just try it.
Open this door!
Open up, Commies. Are you afraid of the truth?
Excuse me, Jessie, I'll be right back.
Uh, what?
Bravo! Bravo!
He's not allowed here.
Alexander and Natalia are not onstage.
Check in their dressing room, be quick!
Yes, Major Karzof.
Wake up, America!
This Russian ballet tour is only an excuse
to bring more communists into our midst!
Don't be deceived by treacherous lies
in the name of entertainment!
Ban the ballet!
Russkies go home! Ban the ballet!
We must go, Jessica. Now.
But the parking lot exit is that way!
No, Jessica. This way.
Major, what happened?
Cover the exits. Close down the theater.
Alexander and Natalia are missing.
Go!
Berensky.
Alexander Masurov?
Get in, Jessica. I'll explain everything.
You must be Natalia.
It is wonderful to finally meet you, Uncle.
My dear, dear Natalia.
Jessica, can you forgive me for involving you in this?
I was so afraid.
A single man at the ballet, with an accent no less,
would be much too conspicuous. So I asked you to accompany me.
Well, I'm not sure that I understand.
Thank you for helping.
We have been planning this moment
since I was a little girl.
I am so happy it has finally come true.
Well, I'm happy for you, Natalia,
but, Leo, you've got a lot of explaining to do.
Of course. First we must go to the federal authorities
and ask them to seek asylum for Natalia and Alexander.
But where did you go when you left me in the theater?
To the car, of course. I moved it closer,
so that our getaway would proceed more smoothly.
Well, I hate to bring this up,
but by now someone must have discovered they're missing.
There could be news on the radio.
At the Boston Opera Center,
where only moments ago, the body of Soviet Security officer,
Serge Berensky, was found stabbed to death
in the dressing room of Alexander and Natalia Masurov,
stars of the Rostov ballet.
The couple, who disappeared immediately
following today's special preview performance,
are being sought for questioning by local and federal author--
We did not do this terrible thing.
We hurt no one.
We did not return to our dressing room.
We went to musician room.
They only changed their clothes there.
We did not even see Berensky.
Well, I think that we should go directly to the police.
No! The police think that Natalia and Alexander
have murdered a KGB officer.
But, if they're innocent, they've got nothing to fear!
Nothing but the KGB.
If they get their hands on Natalia and Alexander,
they will drag them back to Russia. And do you suppose
that they would have a fair trial there, after that?
Please, Jessica. I know them better than you do.
Well, if, if it's a question of delaying their surrender...
All right, Leo. Take them back to Cabot Cove.
Find Ethan. I'll telephone him and explain the situation.
And what about you?
Well, I'd like to stay here and see what I can find out.
I'll catch a bus later.
And you were not aware of the fact
that Berensky had not come out of his dressing room?
I wasn't paying any attention. I was busy.
And just how busy was that?
Look, Ivan, I'm a stage manager with a troupe of commies.
Most of 'em don't even understand English.
I gotta keep my eyes on them at all times.
It's too bad you didn't keep your eyes on Berensky.
What can you tell us about him?
Not much, except he was hanging around all the time,
- watching the ballerinas. - Hm-mmm.
Particularly a little cutie-pie named Irina.
Uh, pardon me.
Excuse me, who's in charge?
- I am. - I am.
Okay. We'll, uh, get back to you.
Anytime.
Chief Agent O'Farrell, FBI.
Is there something I can do for you?
Uh, my name is Jessica Fletcher,
and I was in the audience this afternoon.
Oh, yes. I remember you.
You were with a very distinguished-looking gentleman.
Mr. Peterson. He returned home. He doesn't have quite
the same fascination for murder that I have.
Fascination?
Well, you see, I write mystery stories.
Really?
Well, you know there is a very excellent mystery writer
named J.B. Fletcher from your state of Maine.
From Cabot Cove, Maine. And I thank you.
Is it you? Oh, oh! Oh, I am honored!
Major Anatole Karzof, Committee for State Security.
- KGB. - Well, if you prefer.
Mrs. Fletcher, unless you have some relevant knowledge
about what happened,
I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
Not so hasty, Mr. O'Farrell.
Mrs. Fletcher has remarkable powers of deduction.
I would welcome her observations in this matter.
Well, I would not.
And need I remind you, Major Karzof, this is my turf!
I would...
uh, hope... in the spirit of cooperation...
in this instance you might defer to my request, eh?
Suit yourself, Major.
I feel as though I already know you
from the many hours I have spent absorbed with your books.
Well, you're very kind, Major.
But I'm only sorry that Russia doesn't see fit
to pay authors royalties.
That is a capitalist invention, my dear.
Come, shall we examine the scene of the crime?
- Of course. - My favorite book, I think, was
the first one I read of yours...
I was the first to find Berensky.
Face down, with a jeweled dagger in his back.
- Any suspects? - Yes, only one.
There's no doubt that Alexander Masurov
murdered Berensky. The dagger was part of his costume.
- And what was his motive? - Defection.
As soon as I observed that Alexander and Natalia
were absent from their curtain call,
I sent Berensky to look for them.
Apparently he found them,
preparing to flee.
There was a struggle with Natalia.
How can you be sure?
Fingernail marks were raked along Berensky's face.
And while they struggled, Alexander plunged his dagger
into Berensky's back, killing him instantly.
Well, that is a sound premise.
But surely there are others who had motive or opportunities?
Even I can think of one.
Oh? And who might that be?
You, Major. As you said, you were the first on the scene.
Very good, yes.
I agree. That is my opportunity,
but what about my motive for killing my own man?
The realization that two of your country's
most famous dancers were defecting to the West,
and the knowledge that nothing short of murder
could prevent it.
So I killed Berensky
in order to thwart them from seeking asylum, huh?
Excellent, excellent! You are mistaken, of course,
but it is a brilliant postulation.
Thank you again.
Tell me, my dear lady.
Are you planning to stay in the city this evening?
Well, that wasn't my intention,
but under the circumstances, I think perhaps I will.
Oh, well then, may I suggest a wonderful place?
It's where I'm staying. I'm sure you'll like it.
Ethan, please trust me.
I'm sure they're innocent.
But until the real murderer is found,
they need someplace to stay.
Jess, do you realize what kind of deep chowder I'll be in
if I get caught aiding and abetting?
And do you know what will happen to those young, innocent people
if they are sent back to Russia?
No, and neither do you, not for sure.
Doggone it, Jess. You're asking a lot.
I know. And you're the only one I can ask.
All right, all right. But I'm only doing it for you.
There is no room on my boat for international politics.
Oh,
there's somebody at the door. Ethan, thanks.
Stage to take their bows,
the missing stars of the ballet, Alexander and Natalia Masurov,
suspects in the murder of Soviet Security Agent,
Serge Berensky.
Wake up, Am--
Uh, forgive me, madam.
It's a habit from my old days with the militia.
Some people were reluctant to answer the buzzer.
Well, I'm glad I opened the door before you kicked it down.
Hmm. The lab reports are ready. I thought perhaps you might like
to accompany me to police headquarters, yes?
Yeah.
That's the lot.
Isn't it sad...
how a man's whole life can be reduced to a pile of trinkets?
Now, here's something interesting, Major.
The victim's handkerchief was found in his pocket,
- stained with his own blood. - What about it?
Well, it seems to disprove the Major's theory
that Berensky was struggling with Natalia,
and she scratched his face
while Alexander stabbed him in the back.
I don't seem to follow your logic.
So she clawed him, and he wiped his face with his handkerchief.
What, then he put it back in his pocket
after he'd been fatally stabbed?
No. Mrs. Fletcher is absolutely correct.
The face-scratching must have happened earlier.
Does that report mention anything about fibers
snagged onto the watchband? Green fibers?
Now, that woman who rushed on the stage,
she was wearing a green sweater, wasn't she?
Velma Rodecker.
- Where is she now, sergeant? - She's still upstairs in lockup.
See if these fibers match up with her sweater.
Right.
Sergeant, you might examine under her fingernails
- while you're at it. - Yes, ma'am.
Uh-huh.
This investigation could be valuable material
for a new mystery novel, hey, Mrs. Fletcher.
Well, it certainly has the right ingredients.
The murder of a soviet agent,
coincidental with the disappearance
of two world famous ballet stars.
Well, please don't leave out
the wise and venerable chief of State Security
who solves the murder, and brings to justice
the misguided betrayals of the Homeland.
Ah, but that remains to be seen, doesn't it?
It's in the final chapter, madam.
- Ah, may I offer you a nightcap? - Oh, thank you. No.
I've had an exhausting day. I need a good night's sleep
to clear my mind. I'd like to take a raincheck though.
- You have a raincheck. - Thank you.
Good night.
Leo was certainly a fine-looking young man.
Yes.
How much has he told you?
Concerning you? Nothing.
But I did see you deal him a playbill
from the bottom of the deck.
Leo promised me that no one would learn
of my participation in the defection.
If the Russians were to find out,
they would never again allow their dancers
to perform for the arts council.
As far as I know, Leo has never told anyone.
Tell me, Mr. Eddington. How did you know Leo?
- Entre nous, of course? - Oh, of course.
My father was the American officer
who arranged for Leo's defection from the Russian army
during the fall of Berlin in World War II.
Leo was then Leonid Petrovich, a dancer who longed
for the artistic freedom of the United States.
He was just beginning to build himself a tremendous reputation,
when a tragic accident ended his career.
- Accident? - A heavy light fell onstage.
Leo was unable to get out of the way.
Oh, of course. That explains his limp.
So Leo contacted me just after I'd announced
that the Rostov ballet was coming to Boston.
And he asked me to help
in the defection of his grandniece.
Well, how could I refuse?
And aside from inviting him to the performance,
what was your participation?
Nothing very dramatic really.
I was to open a window in the musicians' room.
And Leo would then bring a change of clothes
for Natalia and Alexander.
And he was to leave the clothes in a locker.
Number 19.
I saw the number scribbled on his playbill.
Yes. And that was it!
Except that when I left the musicians' room...
Yes?
Berensky saw me from the far wings.
I remember because he was holding a handkerchief
to the side of his face for some reason.
Before he went into the Masurovs' dressing room?
Mm-hmm.
Mr. Eddington, thank you. It's been most useful.
I really should be getting home.
- Well, let me drive you. - Oh, no, I wouldn't think of it.
I still have time to catch the last bus back to my hotel.
And I know my way around Boston very well.
Well, the streets are very dangerous at night,
especially for ladies alone.
Oh, I'll be fine, but thanks for the concern.
- Good night. - Good night.
Looking for someone?
Go.
I hope he did not startle you, Mrs. Fletcher.
No, I'm afraid I startled him.
Thank you for the bodyguard, Major Karzof.
I wouldn't have dared to walk the streets alone,
if I hadn't known Mr. Nagy was following me.
Mmm.
It was a wasted exercise
interviewing Mr. Eddington, madam.
The fibers found in Berensky's watchband
match those of Velma Rodecker's sweater,
and traces of Berensky's flesh were found under her nails,
as you suggested.
They've arrested her for the murder?
Yes, and while I have no sympathy
for a neurotic anticommunist,
I regard it as a most depressing development.
Morning.
Ethan Cragg about?
Uh, yup.
I don't believe we've met.
Amos Tupper. I'm the local sheriff.
Yup.
You must be new around here. Where are you from?
Amos.
Ethan.
Good morning, Amos. Ah, see you've met my new deckhand.
I figured I could use some help
the way the cod's been biting lately.
Good idea.
You here temporarily or you planning on staying a while?
Nope.
Oh, I think what he means is that he's gonna stay here
for a while and then he'll be moving on.
Isn't that right, pal?
Yup.
Hey, how about if I buy you a cup of coffee at the inn?
Sounds good to me.
Seems like a friendly sword.
Might too gabby for my taste.
Ethan, have you, uh, seen any suspicious looking
- characters about? - Suspicious? How?
Different. Foreign-like. You know, Russian.
Russian?
Yeah, two Russky toe dancers, a man and a woman,
they ran off from some Boston ballet.
Defectors. Only, they murdered a fella,
and there's a warrant out on them.
I don't know if I'd know a Russian if I saw one.
- Would you? - Ha! From a country mile away.
Well now, who do you suppose that is?
Uh, her? Oh, uh, that little gal has come to visit
Nils Warson's family for a spell.
Are we gonna have the coffee?
Pretty little thing, isn't she?
Radicals!
So vociferous for the cameras,
yet quiet as church mice under interrogation.
Then, miss Rodecker still hasn't made a statement, hmm?
And she is deriving intense pleasure
from her newfound notoriety.
But then, that's exactly what she wanted, her day in court.
The center of attention.
Make no mistake, she is the killer.
The woman stabbed Berensky
and then ran onto the stage to cause her disturbance.
But the murder weapon was Alexander's dagger.
Surely he was using it onstage at that moment?
You will recall that the wedding scene occurs
in the final act.
The dagger is not worn in the wedding scene.
And therefore, it would have remained in the dressing room
throughout the finale.
I see.
Those young girls over there,
they're members of the Corps De Ballet aren't they?
Mmm, yes.
That little one there looks so sad.
Oh, Irina. Yes. Yes, yes.
- She was Natalia's best friend. - Oh.
- W-would you like to meet her? - Yes, yes.
Uh, miss Katska.
Would you come, please?
Mrs. Fletcher, may I present miss Irina Katska?
How do you do?
Major Karzof has told me how close you were to Natalia.
I'm so sorry. I know what it is to lose a friend.
- You are very kind. - Thank you, Irina.
Well, you must forgive me, Major, but I must catch
the next bus back to Cabot Cove.
Oh, so soon?
Well, you've almost solved the crime.
There's no reason for me to stay.
Then it is farewell only, never, never good-bye.
- Farewell then. - Farewell.
Good news, Major.
Velma Rodecker has decided to talk.
Welcome home, Ms. Fletcher.
Why, Sheriff, do you always meet the bus
- to welcome people home? - Only the famous ones.
Ethan tells me you hung around Boston
gathering material concerning that murder.
- What did you find out, eh? - It was open-and-shut.
Apparently a protester named Velma Rodecker
- murdered the Russian agent. - Ah.
Have you seen Ethan around?
Oh, he's down at his boat showing his new hand the ropes.
- New hand? - Friendly young fella.
Sounds like he's from up around Bangor.
Ethan!
Oh, there she is. How ya doin', Jessica?
Ethan, when I asked you to hide Alexander and Natalia,
this is not at all what I had in mind.
Don't get on your high horse, woman.
What did you want me to do, stuff 'em in my sea chest?
Amos thinks she's a Swede from Minnesota.
Well, even so, I'm taking Natalia home with me right now.
- Now where's Leo? - Up to his house, I guess.
Well, then you bring Alexander along to my place
for supper tonight, and then we've got to make
some new arrangements.
The Police Department, the KGB and the FBI
could be down on this town in any moment.
What for? They got the murderer.
Velma Rodecker is not the murderer.
Aah! That smells good. Oh, does that smell good!
Leo, will you sit there? Ethan, you come around here.
And you two, you better sit side-by-side.
Who in tarnation is that?
Leo! Take Alexander and Natalia upstairs. Hurry!
Well, I sure am sorry for disturbin' ya, ma'am,
but I was told Captain Cragg might be here.
Oh, yes, I'm Ethan Cragg. What can I do for you?
Well, Sir, I just put into the harbor
with a blown oil seal, and a fella down at the docks
said you might have a spare seal to sell me.
No, I'm sorry, but, uh, you can probably get one from Gus Harker
over at Rockwater Bay.
Oh, Rockwater Bay, huh? Shoot.
Uh, Ma'am, you s'pose I could use your phone
to call over there before I start hitchin'
- in that direction? - Oh yes, of course.
- Come on inside. - Thank you.
Looks like you folks are expecting company.
Well, they are a little late.
You know how much trouble babies can be, Mr., uh...
Dewey Johnson.
Gus will be home at this time of night.
- Just call the operator. - Oh, thank you, ma'am.
You from down east, Mr. Johnson?
Oh no, ma'am. I'm from Maine,
born and bred, up near Bar Harbor.
Well, that's lovely, Bar Harbor.
I'll let you make your phone call.
News is on, Jess. Come take a look.
And the disappearance
of two Russian ballet stars
remain a mystery in Boston today.
The dancers were first missed when they did not come onstage
to take their curtain calls, as shown in this videotape
of the preview performance of the Rostov ballet.
All through, ma'am. Mr. Harker's got that seal,
so I best try to catch me a ride over there.
Much obliged for your help.
Oh, you're very welcome, I'm sure.
- So long. - Good night.
Jessica, has he gone? He's gone, all right.
- But not to Gus Harker's. - What do you mean?
I asked him if he was from down east and he said,
"No, I'm from Maine."
Aha!
Yes?
Oh. Well, "down East" is just another name for Maine.
Anybody from New England would know that.
That man ain't who he says he is.
- Then who is he? - We'll soon find out.
I have a strong suspicion
he's done something to my telephone.
Letitia? This is Jessica Fletcher.
I'd like you to reach a number in Boston.
Letitia, hold that call, will you?
There's someone at the door.
Thanks.
Wasn't me doing the pounding, Ms. Fletcher.
Why, Major Karzof, what a pleasant surprise.
Perhaps not, Mrs. Fletcher. Sheriff?
I'm sorry, Ms. Fletcher,
but these fellas have a warrant to search your house.
- My house? Whatever for? - I'll check the kitchen.
Uh, Major, would you care to explain?
Certainly. I would not dare embarrass you like this
without explaining my action.
I am looking for Natalia and Alexander Masurov.
We searched Leo Peterson's house, but no one was there.
And why would the Masurovs be here
or at Mr. Peterson's house, for that matter?
Velma Rodecker had a very interesting story to tell.
It seems that after she struggled with Berensky,
she was forcibly removed from the theater.
She discovered a window open
and entered to find herself in the musician's room.
She heard a sound and hid...
and then watched as a man climbed in through the window
with a viola case.
The case contained two costumes.
Miss Rodecker slipped out of the room,
into the backstage area,
where she hid until the curtain call.
Her description of the man sounded remarkably
like your Mr. Peterson. Right down to his limp.
A quick check with the Soviet Consulate
revealed that Leo Peterson of Cabot Cove, Maine,
is in truth Leonid Petrovich, betrayer of his homeland,
and the granduncle of Natalia Masurov.
There's no one in the kitchen.
Well, I could have told you that, Amos.
- How did you enjoy the muffin? - Real good, ma'am.
There is no sign of them, Major.
What a shame. You came all this distance for nothing.
As you can see, the situation has changed.
Alexander Masurov is once again the prime murder suspect.
If you should, by some chance,
happen to encounter the Masurovs,
as unlikely as that may be,
please assure them that my government
Will provide them with a fair and just trial.
And then they will be executed.
You can call off your manhunt, Major.
I wish to make a full confession.
Leo, no!
I have no desire to conceal the truth, Jessica.
I killed Berensky
so that my niece and nephew
would have sufficient time to escape.
They were not aware of my action.
Don't listen to him, Major.
It's a noble gesture, but it's not true.
Obviously. Arrest him anyway, Sheriff.
He is guilty of obstructing justice.
I hate to do this, Leo.
Amos.
Was that necessary, Major?
Ours is a war of attrition, Mrs. Fletcher.
That was a warning shot across your bow.
Don't be deceived by my gentle manner...
I beg of you.
Letitia, you can make that Boston call now.
Stage manager.
Yeah.
Irina!
Yes, this is Irina Katska.
Irina, this is Jessica Fletcher.
We met yesterday at breakfast.
Yes, I, I, I remember.
Irina, I can't go into detail now,
but Natalia asked me to call you.
Natalia?
She wants you to know that she and Alexander
are safe and in hiding.
You know where they are?
Uh, yes. They're near my home in, in Cabot Cove, Maine.
Oh, I'm so grateful they are safe!
Natalia wanted you to know that she's so sorry
that she couldn't say good-bye properly.
Well, I, I understand.
Alexander also sends a message.
I, I'll try to remember the words.
I hope I said it correctly.
I don't know what it means.
It, it was correct, Mrs. Fletcher.
I understood every word perfectly.
If only I could be there.
Well, perhaps, uh, Mr. Fleming could be of some assistance?
Now here's a possibility. The old Linderman farmhouse.
- Been deserted since '68. - Well, let's go there at once!
Oh, just remembered.
The whole place burned to the ground last winter,
lock, stock and barrel.
You are not being very helpful, Sheriff.
I want to find them and now!
Major, there's no call to raise your voice.
I'm doing my best.
I'm becoming very aware of that.
- Sheriff Tupper. - Major, I lost Mrs. Fletcher.
Lost her? In a town the size of a postage stamp?
Ms. Fletcher give you the slip, huh?
She is a wily one. It's for you, Major.
For me?
Major Karzof.
Irina, missing? Well, find her!
The entire ballet is running away,
and I am mired in this insignificant little speck
- on the map! - No, we're here, Major.
Sweetness, this isn't exactly what I meant when I said
that I'd show you the sights.
It is not much further.
I don't even know where we're going.
To a safe place. That is all I can say.
If the KGB find me now, my life is over.
Sugarplum, I'm not the KGB, okay?
Trust me.
Please, Mr. Fleming, it is not much further.
I gotta be nuts.
Fletcher. Fletcher. Isn't that the name
of that busybody dame who, uh... Hey!
Irina! How nice to see you. Come in. And Mr. Fleming.
Mrs. Fletcher, you must help me.
- Coming here wasn't my idea. - No, no. It was mine.
Mrs. Fletcher, Natalia's bravery has encouraged me.
I wish to join her and Alexander and live in freedom.
Well, I know that they'll be overjoyed to see you.
Now you wait right here, and I'll go make a phone call.
Uh, what's wrong with this phone?
Well, that phone isn't bugged.
Hello?
Ethan, take Natalia and Alexander to your boat.
We'll meet you there.
- You sure it's safe? - Positive.
We're on our way.
Flotsam to sand castle, over.
Go ahead.
It's going down. Suspects are en route to Cragg's boat.
Got it.
Are you sure you won't have a cup of tea?
Are you kidding?
I wonder what is keeping Natalia and Alexander.
Hey, look. Why do I have to hang around here?
Suppose I just split.
Well, it might be safer to wait.
They're watching the house.
Oh, great.
If I hadn't listened to you,
I'd be in some cozy Boston bar getting smashed right now.
Oh, we have company.
Major. Amos, did you forget to search my fruit cellar?
- Come to think of it-- - No, Mrs. Fletcher.
My man just reported to me that you have visitors from Boston.
Ah, miss Katska, and Mr. Fleming.
Listen, pal, I have nothing to do with this.
And why are you here, Irina?
Perhaps to find your friends, Natalia and Alexander Masurov?
I do not know.
Do you know the penalty for shielding a murderer?
Alexander didn't kill anyone!
B-but I, I know who did! It was him!
- Oh, c-come on! You're crazy! - No, it's true!
He hated Berensky because of me.
They fought in front of witnesses.
- You conniving little commie. - Just hold it, sonny.
That's very interesting, Irina.
Hmm.
You say that Mr. Fleming hated Mr. Berensky because of you.
Yes. He thought Berensky and I were lovers.
And he wanted me for himself. He was mad with jealousy.
Aw, come on. She's crazy!
Uh, but Mr. Fleming had no reason to be jealous
of Mr. Berensky, did he?
You are in love with Alexander Masurov.
Incorrect, Mrs. Fletcher.
Irina's affair with Masurov
ended when he became enamored of Natalia.
No! Alexander still loves me!
You, you tell him, Mrs. Fletcher.
You... No, tell him the message Alexander sent.
I will love you always.
He said that, you hear? Alexander said that to me.
I'm sorry, Irina. Alexander didn't send that message.
I only said he did.
Leo gave me the words to tell you.
It was the only way I could get you
to reveal your true feelings for Alexander.
- For what possible reason? - Her motive.
It finally dawned on me last night, Major.
It was the videotape of the curtain call.
Each time I saw it, I knew something was wrong.
It lacked symmetry.
There should have been six ballerinas,
three on each side.
But the sides were uneven because there were only five.
Not only were Natalia and Alexander missing
from the curtain call, but so was Irina.
I think you sensed they were going to defect.
When you saw them leave the stage, you ran after them,
hoping to stop the man you loved from running out of your life.
But you found their dressing room empty.
Berensky came in, sent by Major Karzof.
He told you the Masurovs were gone.
But there was still one way
to prevent them from making good their escape,
and in your desperation,
you picked up Alexander's dagger--
Stop! Stop, please, stop.
I just... I wanted him back.
I, I didn't think. I didn't know what I was doing.
Please. [melancholic music playing
No.
Well, it makes no difference anymore.
Take me back.
Child, Major Karzof has no jurisdiction here.
Amos. Be gentle with her, please.
Yes, ma'am. I sure will.
Now if you'll just come along, miss.
Well, if no one objects,
I'll just get the hell out of here.
I was about to suggest the same thing, Mr. Fleming.
- Good night. - Yeah.
So... J.B. Fletcher has wrapped up another mystery, eh?
Rather neatly done, I might say.
Oh, not really. I'm afraid I left poor Mr. O'Farrell
waiting on an empty boat.
But then, of course, he shouldn't have tapped my phone.
And what about Natalia and Alexander Masurov?
On their way to Portland,
to turn themselves in as defectors seeking sanctuary.
I thought as much.
You could have tried to stop them.
Well, I, uh, did what I could.
Let them live in peace.
And what about you, Major?
Have you ever thought of living in peace?
As a loyal citizen of the Soviet Union,
I will pretend I did not hear that.
Tell me, how's the fishing around here?
- Marvelous! Do you fish? - Of course!
Every chance I get, of course.
Maybe you could stay around a few days.
A few days.
Unfortunately,
days have a way of growing into years.
So, farewell, my dear Jessica.
I look forward to your next novel.
I'd like to send you a signed copy,
if it won't compromise you in the Kremlin.
Sometimes, a man likes to be compromised, eh?