08x18 - Programmed for m*rder

[bunniefuu]

FEMALE NARRATOR:
Tonight on m*rder, She Wrote.

I've decided to
sell the company.

Ten million or we k*ll the deal.

Cabot Cove does
need another doctor.

I don't like losing
patients to him.

You wiggle your hips a little,
and I'm supposed to tell you

everything Doug sent
you here to find out?

Harriet! Please.

I'm sorry to say

it looks as if Dr. Hazlitt was
treating her for the wrong problem.

LAURA: You'll do damn near
anything to get him off the hook,

including, if necessary, shifting
more of the blame onto me.

DOUG: As long as he's
still practicing medicine,

then he's nothing
but a public menace.

(BEEPS)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Oh, Harriet, you don't
know how welcome you are.

I'm sorry it took me so
long to get here, Jessica.

I was fixing some bugs on
a new program. Mmm-hmm.

And when you start rewriting
codes, time gets away from you.

Harriet, are you all right?

I'm fine, thank you. A
little stressed out but fine.

Oh, that makes both of us.

Uh, would you like a cup of tea?

Water, please.

Oh, absolutely. I'm so
sorry to bother you like this,

you know, but except for
you, the rest of Cabot Cove

seems to have very successfully
ignored the computer age.

Well, hopefully this time
tomorrow, I will be doing the same.

I have, uh, decided
to sell the company.

What? Mmm-hmm.

We are, as they say, in negotiations
and we had an offer and, um,

we're hoping the buyer's pockets
are deeper than he's letting on.

We should know one way
or the other this afternoon.

I started writing computer
programs because they were fun.

They are no longer fun and
haven't been for some time, Jessica,

and they are causing more
than just stomach problems.

Oh, I'm sorry. You and Allan?

Yes, unfortunately.

(SIGHS)

Now, what do you say we find
those 40 pages you claim to have lost.

Listen, Harriet, if you can do
that, I will dedicate this book to you.

I mean, it's bad enough that I did
or didn't do what I should have done.

The fact that it just sits
there and beeps at you.

Oh, don't let it get to you.

I'm more than half-convinced they're
designed to make us all feel stupid.

(LAUGHS) Well,
they certainly succeed.

HALSEY: Oh, come on,
lighten up, would you?

I mean, we're not exactly
talking serious money here.

At least not the
way you make it.

How I make it isn't the issue,
John. It's how you lose it.

When five million of my dollars
go south, I wanna know why.

Okay, how's this? It's
the nature of the game.

I come up with a hot, original
idea, and the same day

27 nerds between here and
Silicon Valley hit on the same notion.

I don't know, it's like it's floating
around in the ether, for God's sake.

So, goodbye all the money for research
and development. Does that do it for you?

No.

I wasn't sure about all this computer crap
when you first came to me about investing,

and I'm less sure about it now.

So you had better make sure
that this Cabot Cove deal is a lock.

It is, Rudy, it's a slam-dunk!

The woman hasn't even scratched
the surface on this software of hers.

It makes every other small-business
spreadsheet look like stone tablets.

And the market is there.

Your 10 million is gonna get
you 25, maybe 30, inside a year.

Six months.

Six.

Oh, and John, just so that
we understand each other.

That money doesn't belong to me.

It's, um, it's funneled
through me, all right.

I'm accountable for every cent,

and these people
don't tolerate failure.

(METZGER COUGHING)

I'm telling you, Doc. I feel like I've
had this cough about half my life.

I mean, shouldn't I be taking some kind
of a pill or a shot or a test or something?

Pills or tests or
something cost money.

I don't figure you're all that
anxious to spend unnecessarily.

Not on what you get paid, and frankly,
I don't think you need them, anyway.

Sheriff, if I could
help you, I would.

As I said, chances
are you're tired.

Your resistance is down.

But that's nothing that a week in
the Bahamas wouldn't fix just fine.

Oh, that's wonderful!

(COUGHING) If I can't afford medical care,
how can I afford a trip to the tropics?

Man has no sense of logic.

You're kidding. No.

The tests show it's
definitely not hay fever

or any other kind
of pollen reaction.

So, what am I allergic to?

Printer's ink. What?

Specifically, the kind they
use in the Cabot Cove Gazette.

You mean I'm gonna have to
get somebody to read it to me?

Hardly, Miss Simpson.

There's a wonderful new
medication that just got FDA approval.

A series of sh*ts. We should have
you cleared up in a couple of weeks.

No wonder.

Pardon me?

Oh, nothing.

It's just that apparently

my former physician was
treating me for the wrong problem.

Look, why don't you stop by my
office tomorrow, we'll get you started?

On one condition.

That you take a look at the open
house I'm showing, over on Elm.

I think it's a bit premature for me to
be looking at houses, Miss Simpson.

Oh, nonsense, Doctor.
This house is you.

The truth is, I don't know how
long I'll be staying in Cabot Cove.

Setting up a practice
in a one-doctor town

was not the smartest
move I ever made.

Particularly when the
competition happens to be,

well, like one of
the founding fathers.

Morning, Eve.

WOMAN ON PA: Mrs.
Evans, please meet your party...

Dr. Beckwith. Dr. Hazlitt.

Bless you. I hope you're looking after
that allergy of Mrs. Simpson's, Doctor.

Maybe you'll have more
luck with it than I did.

JESSICA: Oh, Seth,
that's ridiculous.

I mean, what the computer has done
is to increase my output by about 40%.

SETH: Sure, and you know
what's gonna happen then?

You'll write more and more
books, supply will outstrip demand.

Jessica Fletcher mysteries will
become a drug on the market.

You'll be writing yourself
into the poorhouse.

Has it ever occurred to you

that your bad mood has absolutely
nothing to do with my computer?

Oh, is that so?

I'll have you know there's a law against
practicing psychiatry without a license.

Look, I don't blame
you, believe me, but...

I know what you're
gonna say next.

You're going to say it has something
to do with this Doctor Whatshisname.

Yes, but the truth is,

Cabot Cove does
need another doctor,

and for one thing, it'll
make your life much simpler.

Oh, sure, another young hotshot
who figures that computers and lab tests

can take the place of intuition
and treating the whole patient.

Oh, all right. All
right. You win.

(CLEARS THROAT)

I don't like losing patients to
him. Now are you satisfied?

(CHUCKLING) Well, it's a start.

Got it. No, no, they don't
need any special fertilizer.

No, that's fine.

No delivery's no problem. My
regular run to Boston is Wednesday.

Hi, Allan.

Excellent. Thank you.

Harriet's in the house.
Seth, can we talk a minute?

'Course.

Seth, I want you to give it to
me straight. How's Harriet doing?

Basically?

I think she's healthy.

This chronic indigestion she seems
to be having, my feeling is that's stress.

As soon as she gets out from
under this computer business,

I think she'll
feel a lot better.

That makes two of us.

The damned thing's taken
over our lives, now her health.

It seems to be getting
worse, not better, Doc.

Allan, I'm keeping
a careful eye on her.

I promise you,

if she doesn't get better in a
couple of weeks, we'll try an upper GI.

Beyond that, well, there's
not much else I can tell you.

Jessica, you did
not have to do that.

I know, but you didn't have to
save my life or find my 40 pages.

Oh, by the way, I almost forgot.

You left these in my house.

Oh, my. First my stomach,
now my memory. I'm falling apart.

I hope you don't mean that.

Oh, come on, Seth, how could
you be cool, calm, and collected

if you were going to meet somebody who was
going to hand you several million dollars?

Well, not me.

(SIGHS) Harriet, I was
going to wait on this, but I think

I'd like you to check into the
Medical Center tomorrow morning.

I've got some
tests I want to run.

Seth, that's impossible.

I promise I'll come in the
first of the week. Seth, I'm fine.

Allan, we're supposed
to leave in 15 minutes.

Will you relax? Your
brother's not here yet.

(CAR HONKING)

Well, I'm afraid you're wrong. He's just
arrived and he has Gretchen with him.

Now there is no way that I am going to
allow that woman to go to this meeting.

Allan, you have got to keep her
here and keep her preoccupied.

Only if you promise to calm down

and not let your brother
lawyer you into blowing this deal.

This is not the
time to discuss that.

I think we'll be
running along. Bye.

Thank you, Seth, Jessica.

Look, just remember what we
want, to get rid of this business

and start spending some
time together again. Okay?

Okay.

Couldn't you have done that
between here and Boston?

If you would have picked me up on
time, I could've checked into the hotel

and we could have
freshened up there.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher, Doctor.

Hi, Doug. Hi, Doug.

Here you go.

It's only for a day or two, so please
try to make the best of it. All right?

All right, but if she says one word about
how much my shoes cost or my jewelry,

I'm walking out.

All right, enough of
the fun and games.

The number's 10 million, firm.

Oh, hey, come on.
Look, Mrs. Wooster,

you know how grim the whole
computer market is these days,

software in particular.

I mean, I was barely able to convince
my people to give me this one last shot.

And when I suggested
that out of fairness to you

that they up the price,
they laughed in my face.

Please, Halsey,
spare us the snake oil.

You think I don't
do my homework?

You think I don't know what
kind of shape your operation's in

and how badly you need us?

Maybe we should just forget

about the whole thing
and get outta here, huh?

Come on, Harriet, let's
go. Oh, please, Doug.

Mrs. Wooster, you're gonna
be making a huge mistake...

Sis, don't listen to him. If
you back out of this deal.

Sis, he thinks because
you live in the sticks,

he can con you out
of everything you own!

Doug, I am
perfectly capable of...

Well, I know you are.

Doug, I'm... What's the matter?

Harriet, what's the matter?

Doug... Oh, Doug,
please. Harriet?

(CUP CRASHING) Mrs.
Wooster, are you all right?

Oh, my God!

(EXCLAIMING IN PAIN)

Lean back.

DOUG: Yeah, we need a
doctor and an ambulance. Fast!

Mrs. Wooster? She's in surgery.

For what?

I don't know,
Doctor. I wasn't told.

(GRUNTS)

Mr. Wooster,

we did everything we could.

I'm afraid Mrs.
Wooster has died.

There was massive
internal hemorrhaging.

Oh, my God.

Apparently the result
of a stomach ulcer.

Of course, there'll
be an autopsy.

An ulcer? But she didn't
show the symptoms.

What indications did
she display, Doctor?

Mild gastric irritation.

No severe pain. Common
stress-related dyspepsia.

BECKWITH: Then I
assume you ran a GI series?

Well, I told her to
come in next week.

If he had done it, would
he have anticipated this?

It would probably have revealed

the presence of stomach
lesions in their early stages. Yes.

Wait a minute. Harriet Wooster
was my patient for 20 years.

I treated her for what I saw.

What my knowledge of her
told me she was suffering from

and that was certainly
not a bleeding ulcer.

You know what it sounds like I'm
hearing from you? A lot of damned excuses!

SETH: Well, I suppose the tests might
have shown something, but until recently

there was absolutely nothing
to indicate for any tests at all.

It was simple garden-variety
chronic indigestion.

BECKWITH: Which,
I'm sure you know,

we now regard as a far more
significant indicator of future problems.

Oh, right. Right.

Whether you know the
person inside the patient or not,

just prescribe a pricey
computer printout.

Oh, please stop! Both of you!

You're not going to settle
anything here, whatever the reason.

The fact is, a
dear friend is dead.

BECKWITH: We, uh, the entire
staff did everything we could.

We gave her a
couple of transfusions.

We thought we had it
under control, but we lost her.

Allan.

I'm sorry.

Excuse me.

That old hack
blew it, didn't he?

Oh, Doug, please.

No! He k*lled my sister, right?
I'm right about that. Right?

Well, I, uh, I'm sorry to say,

it looks as if Dr. Hazlitt was
treating her for the wrong problem.

Great. That means as long
as he's still practicing medicine,

then he's nothing
but a public menace.

RUDY: Mr. Wooster,

forgive me for startling you.

I'm very sorry to hear about your wife. I
never had the pleasure of meeting her,

but we shared certain interests,
and now you and I share them.

What are you talking
about? Who are you?

Just someone with a
piece of friendly advice.

If you say no to Mr. Halsey's
offer to buy your company,

certain people will
be deeply offended

and these people are
unpredictable. You understand me?

Okay.

I just need a little information
to complete my report.

Like, what was that term you used
to describe Mrs. Wooster's condition?

You know, when we brought
her into the emergency room?

Something about,
uh, her extremities?

They were cyanotic.

Yeah, that's it.

Excuse me. Uh, what
exactly does that mean?

It usually indicates inadequate
oxygenation of the blood.

How long have you had that
cough, Sheriff? I don't know.

About four or five weeks. Uh, so that's
the reason her fingers were kind of blue?

Yes. Open your mouth, please.

Oh, but I...

Yeah, just as I thought.

You have a lot of
inflammation down there.

You allergic to any medications?

Not that I know of. Anyway, you
also said something about her eyes.

Sheriff, I think, the person you
ought to talk to is the coroner.

You take two of these a day.

This ought to knock
out that cough in a hurry.

No, I don't want...

Thanks.

ALLAN: It doesn't seem
real. I can't believe she's gone.

That makes two of us.

You know, growing up, she always
seemed so solid. So indestructible.

Are you gonna be all right?

Listen, I really appreciate your
taking care of all of the arrangements.

I don't think I could've,
uh, managed that myself.

No problem.

Oh, I spoke to Halsey.

I'm gonna be meeting with him,
uh, tomorrow, after the services.

What are you talking about?

I gave him an ultimatum.
Ten million, or we k*ll the deal.

Doug.

Don't worry, he'll find
the money somewhere.

I can't believe you're talking
about money at a time like this.

Look, it's not easy
for me, either, okay?

But somebody's got to take care of
the things that need to be finished.

Then take care of them my
way, the way Harriet wanted it.

Accept the man's offer
and get it over with.

What? And let you throw away an
extra three or four million dollars?

Without Harriet, the company
isn't worth what he's offering now.

Well, I happen to know how
bad Halsey needs the deal.

You sure it isn't
you who needs it?

All right, Allan. Come
on, that's not fair.

Doug has always put your interests
ahead of his, your's and his sister's.

Let's not forget where the seed money
for this little venture came from, huh?

Who wrote the check that
got this whole thing started?

And you won't do
too badly, will you?

20% of 7.5 million dollars
on a $15,000 investment?

Now, before
Harriet's even buried,

you're running around
trying to fatten up your share!

You bastard. You know, all the
time when she's working on this,

you never gave her
an ounce of support!

Okay, okay! Doug, Doug, stop it!

Allan, he really is
doing this for you.

He's a negotiator.
He knows business.

At least think about
taking his advice.

Oh, hi. Amy, have
you seen Dr. Hazlitt?

I just saw him up
at the front, Doctor.

Great. Thanks a lot.

Sure.

Dr. Hazlitt, you have a minute?

Dr. Beckwith?

I know we have our differences,
but I wanted to offer my condolences.

I know you were
close to the deceased.

It's amazing how you can start off
to be sentimental and end up clinical

all in the same breath.

Her name was not "the
deceased." She was Harriet Wooster.

She had a mole on
her left shoulder blade,

and an appendectomy
when she was 14.

She used to drive to Boston every
fall to see the Celtics play the Lakers.

I believe there was
some sort of a side bet,

but I never asked and
she never volunteered.

I'm sorry.

Are you? Good. That's a start.

Dr. Hazlitt, I really wish you
would cut me some slack.

You have your way of
doctoring and I have mine.

There's no reason
why both can't co-exist.

I'm afraid there is.

A little something called the Hippocratic
Oath. Perhaps you remember it.

"I solemnly pledge to consecrate
my life to the service of humanity.

"I will give my teachers the respect
and gratitude which are their due.

"I will practice my profession
with conscience and dignity.

"The health of my client
will be my first consideration."

I know the oath, Doctor.

I think you know it here, all right, but
I'm not at all sure that you know it here.

That's not fair,
and it's not true.

Look, I know you're angry, I know
you're upset. You have every right to be.

Death is worst when it comes
to someone we care about.

But don't take your
anger out on me.

I don't deserve it
and I don't need it.

And we have to find some way
to work together in the same world.

Dr. Beckwith,

I'm afraid that you and I

will never work together
in the same anything.

And I, for one, would
like to keep it that way.

(METZGER COUGHING)

The autopsy? I haven't heard.

Anyway, we already
know what she died from.

Do we?

You got that look
on your face again.

Why do I have that feeling

that you're gonna tell me
something I really don't want to hear?

Well, it isn't anything that I can
really put my finger on, Sheriff,

but if Seth is to be
believed, Harriet's ulcer

does seem to have taken an
awfully abrupt turn for the worse.

Oh, come on, Mrs. F.

I know how you feel about Doc
Hazlitt. And I can certainly understand

why he would want to believe
something unusual happened.

I mean, not that I have any
doubts about him or anything.

Oh, hi there, Mrs. Fletcher.

Hi, Andy.

Here you go, Sheriff. Here's
that prescription from Dr. Beckwith.

Thanks.

Hi. Hello, Dr. Beckwith.

You know, I didn't get a chance to
say this over at the Medical Center,

but I'm really sorry about the...
Uh, about your friend, Mrs. Wooster.

Thank you.

Look, I know that you and
Dr. Hazlitt go back a long ways and,

well, I just hope you don't
regard me as the enemy.

Oh, of course not.

I know he's convinced I'm part computer
and part textbook, but what it is, is

I just want to make as many people
well as I can. It's not about money.

I do what I believe is good
science, good medicine.

It's the way I was taught.

Well, Seth is going through
something that would tear anyone apart.

You're not to blame for his suffering,
Doctor. And I think he knows that.

In a way, he reminds
me of my father.

Always blustering and snapping.

But Dad always felt deeply about
things. He just didn't like to show them.

Kind of kept bottled up.

As if an honest emotion ever got
out, it might contaminate someone.

Will you listen to me?
I'm sorry. I'm rambling.

No, no, no. I'm glad that
we had a chance to talk.

And that I had the opportunity to
tell you how really very delighted I am

that you've decided
to practice here.

Well, I better go practice.

Is she a beauty or what?

Look at this Jameson,
heavy duty Model Number 28.

Seth, that's not the one you showed
me in the catalog, that cost $395?

Ah, yeah. The sine
qua non of fly-reels.

But aren't you always bragging to
me that you never pay more than $25

for a piece of fishing equipment because
the trout can't tell the difference?

Well, maybe I've decided to be a
little good to myself for a change, huh?

Take a little more time off.

Catch up on some
things I ought to be doing.

Seth.

Who knows, I might
even decide to retire.

Move over before I fall over.

Make room for the new.

Seth, will you please stop?

Now, look, there is
not a shred of evidence

that anything you did or didn't
do actually caused Harriet's death.

Who said this conversation
had anything to do with Harriet?

I did.

Because I know
how your mind works.

(PHONE RINGING)

Pardon me, woman,

but you happen to be mistaken.
I'm doing exactly as you said.

I'm dealing in reality.

Hello?

Yes, he's right here.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Dr. Hazlitt. Yes.

Ah...

Well, thank you, Harv,
I appreciate the call.

That was the County Coroner.

He just completed his
autopsy on Harriet Wooster.

It turns out the actual cause
of death was the transfusion.

She was given the
wrong type of blood

by mistake, AB

instead of her own
type, O negative.

Oh, how awful.

But it does prove that
you aren't to blame.

Wrong.

If I had been treating Harriet

for what she really had, a severe
stomach ulcer causing hemorrhage,

she wouldn't have needed that
transfusion. She'd still be alive.

LAURA: Mrs. Fletcher,
since I've been suspended,

I'll be spending all
my time in Bangor.

I told you, I've
got nothing to say.

Look, I'm really trying not
to fix blame or point fingers.

Mrs. Fletcher, don't try
and do a number on me.

I might not live in Cabot Cove, but
I've worked with Dr. Hazlitt for years,

so I know how tight
the two of you are.

Which means you'll do damned
near anything to get him off the hook,

including, if necessary, shifting
more of the blame onto me.

Oh, now, Laura, that's not...

No. I said goodbye,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Well, not before
you hear me out.

Look, I'm here because a good and
kind man has been severely damaged,

and if it's at all possible, I want to
help him, but not at your expense.

Unless that would also be
at the expense of the truth.

I simply want to get as
much information as I can

to cut through the
rumors and the innuendo,

so that we can really find out
what happened to Harriet Wooster.

Believe me, so would I.

Before they suspended me,
I went back over the records.

It turns out,

I was the one who was on duty
four weeks ago and then 10 days ago

when Mrs. Wooster donated blood.

See, it's common policy.

A lot of people donate
blood for themselves,

and we hang on to
it until they need it.

And when Harriet needed the transfusion,
who delivered the blood to the OR?

I did. The same two
pints I took from her.

See, I handled all the
labeling, all the testing.

I just don't understand it.

And you have no idea how those
labels could have gotten mixed up?

Oh, believe me, Mrs. Fletcher,
I've retraced my steps a dozen times.

I couldn't even find a vapor
trail. Would you like some coffee?

No. No, thank you.

We were running our
annual blood drive.

Most of the time, I was
the only one on duty.

All I know is, it happened

because of something
I did, some mix-up,

and now, it's cost me my job,

it's going to cost the Center
millions of dollars in lawsuits,

and worst of all, it's already
cost that poor woman her life.

Oh, I'll take that one. It
looks good. Thank you.

Hello, John.

What are you doing here?

Oh, I just came to
extend my congratulations.

Deal isn't closed yet.

No?

I'm talking about the
recently-deceased Harriet Wooster.

Wait a minute. You're not
suggesting that I had something

to do with her death?

Look, she was a problem.
The problem disappeared.

You're becoming more efficient.

Oh, I see. This is terrific!

You just show up one day

and start accusing me of
something you probably did yourself.

I mean, it wouldn't be the first time. As
long as we're on the subject of efficiency.

I've got a plane to catch.

Now I spoke with the grieving husband.
I think he's a man we can work with.

So close the deal.

Oh, and, uh,

without Harriet Wooster, this
company's assets aren't quite so juicy,

so I'm not going to authorize
one cent over four million.

You can't do that to me! You
can't tie my hands like that!

Wrap it up, John. All right?

If a problem comes up,
deal with it. Efficiently.

I'd like a number in Bangor, please.
Laura Garrison. I don't have an address.

Thank you.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

Yeah. Miss Garrison,
this is Jessica Fletcher.

I have a question. Did you
actually see Harriet Wooster's face

when she was brought into the
Medical Center Emergency Room?

No, no. I wasn't in
the Emergency Room.

I didn't see Mrs. Wooster until
I took her blood into the OR,

and... Oh, no, no.

Wait a minute. No.

I never did see her face. It was
obscured by an oxygen mask.

I wonder, could you
describe her to me?

What she looked like the
day she came in to give blood?

Well, no. Not really.

You're positive?
Try to remember.

Mrs. Fletcher, it was the
middle of our blood drive.

I'm good at remembering faces if I see them
again, but no, there were so many people

going in and out,
it was all a blur.

Yes. Well, thank you.

DOUG: Look, what
I'm trying to do is

just get a little whiff of what's going on
inside of this guy Halsey's head. Okay?

GRETCHEN: Mmm-hmm.

How far he's willing to go so I can
gage how far I should turn the heat up.

Well, what's the matter
with just asking him?

Gretchen, are you serious?

He's not gonna tell
me a damned thing.

You see,

with Harriet out of the picture now,
it might be a whole new ballgame.

Are you saying that
you want me to find out?

Well, you do always get me
to tell you anything you want.

My God!

Are you saying that you want me to
do the same thing with John Halsey?

Well, maybe a little
variation on the theme.

Prelude, maybe.

I don't believe this!

We're the next thing
to married, Doug,

and you're asking me to crawl
into the sack with some guy

that you're doing business with!

Well, I'm not saying you
have to go the distance.

But what I am
saying, sweetheart,

is that when you
talk to the man,

just picture 20%
of $7.5 million.

METZGER: Am I allowed
to ask where this is going?

JESSICA: A drugstore in Bangor.

Laura Garrison's
there, waiting for it.

I don't get it.

What does she need with
a picture of Mrs. Wooster?

Forget it, Sheriff.

You're not going to get any
more of an answer than I did.

(BEEPING)

You do know something,
don't you, Mrs. F?

Now, come on, give.

There was nothing in that
autopsy except the blood mix-up.

Well, as far as the
autopsy went, yes.

Well, so what are
we talking about?

Well, Sheriff, if I was to tell you now,
you'd probably say it was too far-fetched.

Say, I just realized, your
cough's getting a lot better.

Oh, yeah, it is.

At least I can do
something right.

(PHONE RINGING)

Sheriff's Station, Metzger.

Uh, yeah. She is.
Uh, just a minute.

Hello, Laura.

Are you certain?

Thank you. Well,
gentlemen, I was right.

Harriet Wooster's death had
absolutely nothing to do with negligence.

She was m*rder*d.

Now, wait. We faxed the blood bank
nurse this picture of Mrs. Wooster,

the same nurse who took two
pints of blood from Mrs. Wooster,

and now the nurse says she never
laid eyes on Mrs. Wooster before?

Jess, that's not possible.

It is, if the Harriet
Wooster who gave blood

wasn't the same Harriet
Wooster as the photograph.

You mean that someone
other than Harriet

with a blood-type fatally
incompatible with Harriet's

donated blood in Harriet's name?

I think that's exactly
what happened.

Well, that would mean the donor
was setting up Mrs. Wooster in advance,

for m*rder.

But how would anyone know when Harriet's
ulcer was going to start hemorrhaging?

Well, that's the part
that I can't answer,

but maybe a doctor would be
able to give us an explanation.

In fact, I'd be willing to bet that two
doctors would be able to do it even better.

Two... Oh, no, Jess, you can
forget that. Not this fellow! No.

JESSICA: Now, look. Look,
the reason you're both here

is far larger than any
philosophical differences,

and if you don't put it all behind
you, a m*rder*r may escape.

All right. Now, if your plan
was to set Harriet Wooster up

so that she'd acquire the symptoms of
a bleeding ulcer and start hemorrhaging

so that she'd need a blood transfusion,
how would you make that happen?

BOTH: Poison?

Yes, I thought that
was a possibility.

Yeah, but I was
there when she died. I

didn't see any obvious
indications of poison.

And the autopsy
certainly didn't show any.

Well, of course, you gentlemen
would know more about all this, but,

in researching poisons for one
of my books, I seem to remember

that certain substances don't
normally show up in a postmortem

unless the medical
examiner is looking for them.

And even then they can
be very difficult to detect.

Aren't there certain acids that produce
the symptoms Harriet displayed?

Corrosives, sure.

Particularly when administered
in gradual amounts.

And aren't there some alkalies
that produce the same effect?

Antimony, for one.

Yes.

Yes. And steroids taken orally.

Yes, and isn't it
true that if the dose is

really small, it might never
show up in an autopsy?

Pathology 201,

poisons ingested in
less than lethal amounts

can sometimes be
impossible to detect.

(LAUGHS)

Which leaves us,
uh, where, Jess?

And why?

Why would anyone want to k*ll
Harriet Wooster in the first place?

And who could've
given the blood?

I think I may have
part of the answer.

Dr. Beckwith, may
I use your phone?

I have to call Bangor.

I don't know. It's just been building for
weeks and weeks and then, yesterday,

I just couldn't take it anymore.

I guess Doug and I just see the
world through different colored filters.

It happens. I've always felt
relationships were made to be broken.

I mean, best part is
always the beginning.

Yeah?

So, what now?

Back to Boston

and writing ad copy,

and getting back
into circulation.

What about you?

Do you think you can still
get this deal going with Doug?

It's worth a shot.

I don't know.

He's not exactly in a
negotiating mood these days.

What are you in the mood for?

Uh,

another drink, maybe.

Then what? We
go back to my room,

you wiggle your hips a little,
and I'm supposed to tell you

everything Doug sent
you here to find out?

Maybe I should've played along
just to see how far you would've gone.

Pardon me, Miss Price.

Would you happen to know
where I'd find Doug Simmons?

GRETCHEN: No, not
right now, I wouldn't.

But I would be more than
happy to give him a message.

Well, all right.

Mr. Halsey, would you be offended if I
took Miss Price away for a private talk?

Actually, it'd be my pleasure.

Well, I assume that Mr. Simmons
has not completed the sale?

Uh, no, he hasn't. Why? Mmm-hmm.

And I assume that your
conversation with Mr. Halsey

is in some sort of negotiating
capacity for Mr. Simmons?

Mrs. Fletcher,
what's the message?

Well, I just wanted to warn
Mr. Simmons about being very careful

about his dealings
with Mr. Halsey.

You see, the autopsy of Harriet Wooster
has revealed traces of hydrobenzapropine.

I'm not sure that I'm
following you. I, uh...

Well, it's nothing
conclusive yet.

But it's a compound
that's been traced

to his manufacturing
operation near Boston.

Are you saying that
Mr. Halsey might've...

Well, it's a highly toxic substance
and the County Medical Examiner

is going to run another
autopsy tomorrow

to see if it might've
contributed to Harriet's death.

My God, that's awful.

Well, please warn Mr. Simmons
to be very, very careful.

Mrs. Fletcher, thank you very,
very much. I will. I really appreciate it.

What the hell are
you doing here?

The autopsy! They
found traces of the poison!

What? So far they
think it was Halsey,

but by tomorrow they're gonna
know for sure that it was m*rder!

Wait. Well, wait. Slow down,
slow down. They're going to find out

that it was my blood
and then they're gonna...

Allan, none of this was
supposed to happen for us!

Not for us! Gretchen, stop!

Look, the poison, there is no
way they could've discovered it.

No. It turns out it is the same stuff that
Halsey's company uses in computers.

Computers? A herbicide?

Yeah, well, that's
what Mrs. Fletcher said.

She said that it was

hydrobenzo-something-or-other.
I don't know.

Yeah.

Damn it, Gretchen,
she's tricked you!

What?

There's no way she can prove it.

You go back to Boston with Doug,

keep your mouth shut
and we're covered. Okay.

JESSICA: Not quite, Allan.

Gretchen, I was sure that
you had an accomplice,

and I really didn't think
that it was John Halsey.

But in my wildest dreams, I'd
never guess that it was you, Allan.

JESSICA: So, that's
how it happened.

When I asked Laura Garrison to
contact the Red Cross in Boston,

she was able to learn that
Gretchen's blood type was AB.

The same type that
k*lled Harriet Wooster.

So, you just showed up
at the County Blood Bank

and told them you
were Harriet Wooster?

The next time you donate blood,

see how many people
ask to see your verification.

As it happened, Nurse Garrison
didn't know Harriet, anyway.

But how did you put
that part of it together?

Well, it was tea that I was drinking
this afternoon in Dr. Beckwith's office.

METZGER: What, we're
doing tea leaves, now?

No.

It was the plastic cup
I used that reminded

me of something I saw
at the Medical Center

right after Harriet died. I noticed that
Gretchen disappeared for a few minutes,

and when she came back, she
brought tea and coffee in paper cups

that were imprinted
with the Blood Bank logo.

Then yesterday when I
visited the Blood Bank,

I saw Nurse Garrison take some of
those same cups from inside a cabinet.

I didn't realize it at the time, but for
you to know where to find those cups,

you'd have to be very familiar
with our little Medical Center,

which is rather remarkable for
someone who lives in Boston.

Well, it's just beyond me.

You had to have been
planning this thing for months.

Almost a year.

And the herbicide,
it was alkaline?

I gave her small doses
a couple of times a week.

Which induced
chronic indigestion.

And then, when her blood
was in place in the Blood Bank,

that's when you zapped
your wife with a big one, right?

SETH: Enough to
ulcerate the stomach lining,

bring on the hemorrhaging,

so that she'd need more blood.

All this so that you and this
woman could be involved?

That, and because I was
sick-and-tired of playing second banana

to that damned
computer nonsense.

The day Harriet started that business
was the day our marriage ended.

And then,

Doug introduced me to Gretchen
on one of my trips into Boston and, uh,

it was like the clouds parted.

I was being offered a new life.

Andy, get them outta here.

Well, Sheriff,

it's nice to see that
Dr. Beckwith has provided you

with such a quick
cure for your cough.

Well, that, uh, that
was sort of an accident.

Although I have to admit, I was
getting pretty tired of coughing.

Wonder how long it's gonna be
before you're tired of that rash?

Do you remember a
couple of years ago

when we decided to try one
of these little miracle cures,

and it turned out
that you were allergic?

Well, that's why I didn't
prescribe it this time.

Oh, boy.

Sheriff, I distinctly remember asking you
if you had an allergy to any medication.

On the other hand, I suppose I
should've double-checked with Dr. Hazlitt.

(CLEARS THROAT)

I'm coming to the conclusion there is a
great deal I can learn from you, Doctor.

I'm hoping we can work
together more closely in the future,

if that's okay with you.

Well, I'd like that a lot.

Matter of fact, there might be one or two
new wrinkles you could, uh, fill me in on.

Well, now that we have ironed that one
out, gentlemen, do you suppose you could

put your heads together and save
Sheriff Metzger from his misery?

Absolutely. And Dr. Beckwith and
I can take that under advisement.

In the meantime, as
far as I'm concerned,

he can suffer.

Doc!

(LAUGHS)