Murder, She Wrote (season 10)

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Murder, She Wrote (1984–1996) is an American television show, airing on CBS, about mystery writer and amateur detective Jessica Fletcher.

A Death in Hong Kong [10.1]

Jessica: [after exposing the murderer] I think that you misjudged Emma and Brian. I'm certain that they would have treated you very generously. And as to that tape in Emma's car, you may recall that I never once said that there was anything on it.

Louise Walton: You mean...

Jessica: It was blank. You incriminated yourself.

Portrait of Death [10.13]

Sondra Arthur: Philip, $15,000 is a lot of cash for chaos. Frankly, I hate it.

Philip Jovey: Who said anything about liking it? Sondra, remember, last year, that oil on wood you absolutely loathed?

Sondra Arthur: It did triple in value, I'll grant you that. Less due to your judgment than the artist killing himself in that spectacular fashion.

Philip Jovey: Bungee jumping. Tragic but public.

The Dying Game [10.17]

Floyd Larkin: [after Jessica exposes him as the murderer] Hallowell threatened to make my embezzlement public unless I allowed him to raid the Larkin Plan to cover his own excesses. At the party, I paged him. I told him to meet me in the bower, that I would sign our deal there. I took the express elevator down, giving myself plenty of time to prepare. When I heard Ernie Fishman coming, I had everything off. Except the mask. I panicked. I didn't notice until later, but then I realized that you, Jessica, must have seen it at the party. The piece of mosquito netting caught on my pin. I told myself that I was temporarily borrowing to cover those business losses I told you about. With my signature on Amalgamated's acquisition of the store, I would have Hallowell's five million to reimburse the pension fund.

Jessica: Hallowell had bigger ideas?

Floyd: Yes. He would have destroyed the pension, destroyed the financial security of the very people who had given this store its name.

Wheel of Death [10.21]

Richard Binyon: [after Jessica exposes him as the murderer] When I took over my father's grocery store, I hated it. It was shabby. I started to remodel it, to turn it into the kind of down east, cracker-barrel place the tourists would go for. I didn't know it would cost so much. I borrowed all I could. Then I had to steal. Little things at first, out of people's houses when I made my deliveries. And then, a man I met in a bar sold me a little kit of tools for opening people's houses when they weren't home. I never thought that I'd end up, you know, murdering somebody.