Murder, She Wrote (season 6)

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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.

Appointment in Athens [6.1]

Harold Baines: [after confessing to the murder] I really had no choice. And after all, Michael, that is what they train us for, isn't it?

The Error of Her Ways [6.4]

Pauline Byrne: [after Jessica accuses her of committing the murders] You know, I really thought I was gonna get away with it. For the first time in my life, I thought, "This time, I come out on top."

Lt. J. T. Hanna: Why don't you tell us what happened?

Pauline Byrne: Before I got there? That, I can only guess at. I was driving towards Clark's house around 5:30. I was stopped at a stop sign when Kay Weber came by. She never saw me. I knew she'd just come from Clark's. The car I'd rented for our drive to LA was parked out on the street. I thought Clark would be alone, so I was surprised to hear Marian's voice. Clark told Marian he was leaving her for another woman. She demanded to know who the other woman was, but Clark said he was going to pack. He had a plane to catch that night. Suddenly, Marian picked up his briefcase. She asked him if he was taking his work with him. He turned in a rage and grabbed the case away from her. When he started into the other room, she reached into a cabinet, pulled out a gun and shot him in the back. Then she fainted. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. I raced around to the kitchen door and let myself in. Clark was lying very still. I thought he was dead. That's when I saw the money coming out of the case. Just then, Clark moved. He told me to call a doctor, fast. I asked him where all the cash came from. Clark said he took it from Golden Palms, said he was getting out ahead. He said it was ours, his and mine. Funny, all the plans we'd made, it was the first time he mentioned he just happened to steal three million dollars. Considering Clark's track record, I knew he'd leave me for someone else. If I called a doctor, it would mean the police, questions about the money. So I didn't phone a doctor. I may have been broke most of my life, but I was never stupid. There was a pillow nearby. I picked it up. He didn't have the strength to fight me off. Meanwhile, there was Marian on the floor, having passed out thinking she'd shot and killed her husband. I made up my mind not to do or say anything to discourage that opinion.

Jessica: So you took the cash and left?

Pauline Byrne: You bet.

Jessica: But you didn't take his watch or the money from his wallet.

Pauline Byrne: No, what for?

Lt. J. T. Hanna: Wait a second. If you didn't take them, Miss Byrne, who did?

Jessica: Marian Randall.

Lt. J. T. Hanna: What?

Jessica: Think about it, Lieutenant. Marian wakes up. She finds Clark dead. She knows she shot him, assumes she's killed him. She's in a panic. How can she explain it? What story can she concoct?

Lt. J. T. Hanna: A break-in.

Jessica: Exactly. She takes the watch. She leaves the watch where someone would find it, the kind of person who'd pawn it.

Lt. J. T. Hanna: Then she made a big show about hiring a detective to find the stolen watch and prove she was innocent.

Jessica: But you couldn't let that happen, could you, Miss Byrne? Because you'd overlooked something. The briefcase. When the embezzlement came out, Marian might add things up. She might remember the briefcase. Missing money. Who took it? You had to silence her. And why not? If she committed suicide, it would only make her seem more guilty. And once she was dead, the case would be closed.

Pauline Byrne: I visited Marian on the pretext of knowing something about Clark and the money. I put the Nardane capsules in her drink to make her drowsy. Pills hit her hard. She was practically out on her feet before I got her into her car. When I left her in that car, I thought I was home free. Funny how things work out. I never did have much luck. Men, money, it's all the same. Always has been.

Dead Letter [6.6]

Stanley Holmes: [after Jessica accuses him of committing the murder] It all started when I met Marjorie. She's a wonderful woman. She just has expensive tastes. She didn't like my old car. She wanted a sleek foreign model. She didn't like my house, Cabot Cove, either. She wants to live in a condo in New York. She ... It just snowballed. I mean, once I started taking, I couldn't stop. I'm sorry, Fred.

Jessica: And are you sorry about Bud Fricksey, too?

Stanley Holmes: More than, more than anything. I, I, I can't believe this. I started the fire in the front of the store and worked my way back to the office, thinking that it would take longer for the furniture to catch. It would be a simple matter to burn the files and the accounts. I heard a crash. I just thought it was a part of the fire, and I was almost done. I was just ready to light a match, and I looked up, and there was Bud. I don't know which of us was more shocked. I hit him with the can. The way he fell, I was sure he was dead, but what if he wasn't? So I picked up the phone to call, and then I saw Marjorie looking at me from the knapsack. And I just did what I had to do. I ... God help me.

Night of the Tarantula [6.7]

Olivia Waverly: [after Jessica picks the lock to Harry's room] Where on earth did you learn that?

Jessica: I think it was The Thin Man Returns. Or maybe it was Charlie Chan in Hong Kong?

The Fixer-Upper [6.15]

Claire Hastings: [after Jessica exposes her as the murderer] Oh, Arnold, close your mouth. You know what it's like. Been all these years working with the rich, not being rich ourselves. Not rich, rich. You actually start to feel that you're one of them. And then one day, you wake up, and you realize that you're on a par with their poodle's hairdresser.

Detective Lieutenant Percy Redick: Mrs. Hastings, why don't you bring us all up to speed and tell us what really happened?

Claire Hastings: That idiot, Seymour Densch, couldn't resist the opportunity to see the house and meet the infamous Deborah Tarkington, daughter of his idol, Harry Tarkington. So he used his offer on the house as an entrée and introduced himself to Deborah. Well, after five minutes, she saw right through him, and she called him on it. Of course, he spilled his guts before she tossed him out. I guess that's when she called Victoria and left the message on her machine that the deal was off. Then she called Arnold at the party to give him a piece of her mind, but I intercepted the call. She was talking about fraud. Now I told her to calm down, that we would talk about it. So, I left the party, and I went to Deborah's. She'd been drinking just enough to be abusive, and nasty and very dangerous. And when she went for the phone to call the police, I went for the fireplace poker. I always was a good closer.

Always a Thief [6.19]

Jessica: In case you couldn't guess, my old friend Dennis Stanton hates writing letters. On the other hand, loves the sound of his own voice. Actually, this seems like a marvelous way to keep in touch. Many of you will remember Dennis from the first time I met him. His occupation was a little different then. Jewel thief, second-story man, con artist. I'm happy to say events conspired to turn him into a very respectable member of the community. His work habits haven't changed much, but at least now he's working on the right side of the law. What's the old bromide? Set a thief to catch a thief. Dennis doesn't have to bilk the insurance companies anymore. In fact, they pay him handsomely to outwit other thieves. In fact, he's such a dashing and unorthodox figure I'm half tempted to base one of my stories on him. I confess that's actually not my idea, but then, modesty was never one of Dennis' attributes.

Shear Madness [6.20]

Rosemary Taylor: [after Jessica accuses her of committing the murder] Bill took one look at me thirty years ago, and knew exactly how I felt about him. Not that he cared much after our first few dates. And then, when he left town and I found out I was pregnant, I tricked Jody Taylor into thinking Meg was his, and married him so she'd have a name. Deep down, I always hoped he'd come back. And after thirty years, he did. But it wasn't for me. He'd forgotten all about me. When I told him everything I'd endured for him, you know what he called it? A regrettable mistake. He made a mistake, all right, and I made sure it was his last.