The Celtic Riddle (2003)

Episode transcripts for the TV show "m*rder, She Wrote". Aired: September 30, 1984 – May 19, 1996.*
Watch/Buy Amazon  Merchandise


Mystery writer and amateur detective Jessica is a down-to-earth, middle-aged widow who ferrets out the criminals in idyllic Cabot Cove, Maine, which apparently is the m*rder capital of the United States.
Post Reply

The Celtic Riddle (2003)

Post by bunniefuu »

DENNY: Gather round,
gather round and listen.

Listen to me now.
As you travel through life,

you'll encounter many barriers
to happiness.

You'll go down some rough roads and
sometimes you may take a wrong turn.

Well, if that happens, take
heed of what I say to you now,

for some day these words may
help you.

A long time ago when our land
was new and our people young

like some of you, there lived in
those ancient times an Irish king

whose greed and avarice were
known throughout the land.

A tyrant who would covet

and then obtain anything
of value within his realm.

But with all his treasures and
possessions, he knew no happiness.

He had no joy or
fulfillment, and so,

he was unable to find his way.

And much like that king of
old, there is a man who,

not so long ago, thought
he had everything in life.

Wealth, and fame and power.
But he really had nothing.

For the one thing he wanted
most, eluded him.

The love of his lost child.

As a young man in a dark and
brooding moment,

he had wanted to end it all.

He was beyond despair,
when, suddenly,

he was given a second chance.

A chance to begin again.

And so he did. So you see,
my brethren,

it is a truth that those who
put greed and avarice

before love are destined
to live a life full of sadness

and misery.

Ah, but those who put love first

will always find the rainbow.

So, get out there
and start looking

for that rainbow.

For all you know, it could be
right around the corner.

(CHUCKLES)

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDS)

Oh, God, Denny, look at the
time, I'm gonna be late.

EAMON: I suppose you're wondering
why I called you all together In this way.

Especially since I'm now

as dead as a doornail.

(WOMEN GASP)

To my wife Margaret, I leave
the house called Second Chance,

with all its contents and land,

together with a sum of money, which
is more than sufficient for her needs.

Although, she, of course,
will disagree.

NURSE: There you are, sir,
just a small amount.

(DOOR SLAMS)

EAMON: Thank you very much.

(WHISPERING) Breeta, have
you no respect for your father?

Can't you leave that
creature outside?

EAMON: To my elder daughter, Fiona,
I leave the business, Byrne Enterprises.

Yes!

And as she's unencumbered,

except for her own incompetence,

I advise her to ask Tom
Molloy, our Sales Director,

to manage the company, but
knowing her obstinacy,

she'll do no such thing.

My younger daughter, Breeta,
has already inherited

my love of Celtic myths
and legends,

but since she told me she
doesn't care at all about my money,

in material terms, I leave
her absolutely nothing.

And since her boyfriend, Paddy
Whelan, showed no desire

to become one of the family,

I leave exactly the same to him.

What is he doing here?

If it comes to that, why
should she be here?

EAMON: But to our housemaid...
Shh.

Nora Flood, I leave
the sum of £2,000

in recognition of her faithful
service to us.

Ugh!

And to John Herlihy, in
gratitude for his service

as our handyman for 20
years, and especially

for his rare devotion during
my last

horrendous days,

I leave the sum of £25,000.

And I hope he uses it wisely.

Now, Michael Davis.

I have the highest opinion of
his abilities as our gardener.

But I don't trust his
financial acumen.

Indeed, I have arranged with
our senior solicitor,

Harry Ryan, to pay him a
monthly stipend

on condition that he finishes
his course in horticulture.

Last of all, I hope that
Jessica Fletcher

will be here as I asked.

To her I leave Rose Cottage

together with its contents and
the land on which it stands.

For it was she who long ago

gave a second chance in life

to a man she didn't even know.

(WHEEZES)

Outrageous.

EAMON: Thank you.
NURSE: There you are.

I'll bet that put the cat
among the pigeons.

But I've another wee surprise
for you all,

so just settle down.

JESSICA: I think perhaps
I should leave the room.

Not at all, Mrs. Fletcher,
sit down.

This concerns you too.

Charlie, would you play that
for me, please?

Indeedlwill.

(SNICKERS)

Just like your father,
to play silly games.

The Last Will and Testament of
Eamon Byrne, Part Two.

Harry Ryan will hand each
one of you

a sealed envelope
containing a clue.

If these clues are shared among
you, they will lead to a treasure

of inestimable value.

But you will have to put aside
your differences

and work together or the
treasure will be lost forever.

Amen.

Brilliant, Da. Absolutely,
bloody brilliant.

MARGARET: Breeta! Breeta,
we're not finished here yet.

FIONA: Oh, let her go, Mother.

RYAN: Charlie, hand these out,
will you?

There's one for everyone
except Mr. Herlihy and Mr. Molloy.

Yes, yes, I will.

Mrs. Fletcher, Nora,

Fiona, Michael,

Paddy, Mrs. Byrne.

Well, uh, I'll keep Breeta's.

I'll take it for her.
The hell you will!

I'll take it to her.

I'll take care of that.

You know, Mrs. Byrne,
Breeta doesn't live here now.

And you, Paddy Whelan,
are no longer welcome here.

(SCOFFS)

I think, if you don't mind,

I'll take a look around
the garden.

MICHAEL: Mr. Molloy,
Mr. Molloy,

Tom, would you wait
a minute? Michael.

There's something I
need to talk to you about.

Well, I need to get
back to the office. Right.

You know, I'm soon going
to be a member of the family.

Really? Me and Breeta,
we're going to get married.

She's not interested
in the business, but I am.

Oh?

I dare say it's not doing
too well just now.

Why do you say that?

Well, um...
It stands to reason,

Eamon's been failing badly the
last few months.

Michael, you know absolutely
nothing about business.

That's what Eamon thought,
but he was wrong.

If you and me sat down and went through the
accounts to see what money was lying idle,

I have some great ideas of
how we could put it to good use.

Do you seriously think I'm going to let
the gardener look through the accounts?

But I told you...

When and if you become
a member of the family

we might, I say might, talk
about this again.

Meanwhile, I suggest you stick
to your flowers.

PADDY: I hope you're satisfied.
It cost you your inheritance.

Oh, I'm sorry, Paddy, I'm sure.

But I didn't realize you only
wanted me for my money.

Oh, come on, that's a bloody
stupid thing to say and you know it.

Is it? All you ever talk
about is the money, Paddy.

So it must be the most
important thing to you.

Well if that's what you really
feel, we may as well call it a day.

That suits me.

Oh, come on, Breeta!

MICHAEL: Why don't you leave
her alone?

And why don't you
mind your own business?

Oh, Mrs. Fletcher,
there you are.

Oh, Mr. McCafferty.

I wanted to apologize. What
must you think of

our famous Irish hospitality!

Look, I understand that
this is a very difficult time.

Is Mr. Ryan
still here?

I'm afraid he's gone back to
town. Can I help you with anything?

Well, I find myself in a
very embarrassing situation.

Mr. Ryan's letter invited
me to stay at the house,

and it's quite obvious
that I'm not welcome there.

So I thought that if I could
get a room at the local hotel,

then I could change my plane
reservation and leave tomorrow.

Oh, no, don't do that. There's
some beautiful country around here.

And besides, believe it or not,
there's some very nice people, too.

Oh, I'm sure there are.

And, there will be formalities
to be completed

relating to your inheritance
of Rose Cottage.

Well, I'm not at all sure
that I'm going to accept it.

Ah, well, even then,
there will be papers to sign.

Anyway, the hotel in town is
fully booked for the music festival,

so you really can't leave.

And besides, I have a
message from Mrs. Byrne

to say that they are just
about to sit down to tea,

they'd be delighted if you'd
join them.

And I wonder whose idea
that was.

I can't imagine. (CHUCKLES)
Oh, come on now, Mrs. Fletcher,

give us another chance. You know, I'm
a great admirer of your mystery books.

You are? Indeed I am.
Does that settle it then?

All right.

Good. We'll arrange a meeting
in my office. Here's my card.

Call me if I can help
you with anything.

(sums)

HERLIHY: Get away would you.
Anyone could find it.

A wee dog digging for rabbits could come on
it. I've half a mind to dig it up myself.

NORA: Ah, don't be
saying that.

HERLIHY: Why not? I've as much
right to it as any of them.

John Herlihy, have you never
heard Denny sing of "The Lost Boy"?

You stupid bitch, would you stop
blabbering on about "The Lost Boy"?

I tell you, he'll be
the death of us all.

HERLIHY: He doesn't exist.
It's just one of Denny's songs.

Can't you get that through
your daft head? He doesn't exist!

That's the trouble
with John Herlihy.

One jar is never enough.
And ten is too many.

Oh, they're waiting on you
in the sitting room, Ma'am.

Thank you very much.

FIONA: Mrs. Fletcher, I dare say
you're expecting Rose Cottage to be

a charming Irish home. I'm sure
when you see it, you won't even want it.

It's very small and there
isn't even a thatched roof.

Well, presumably, there are
roses around the door.

I imagine that's why it
was called Rose Cottage.

Oh, dear.

Nora, you're so clumsy.

I'm sorry, ma'am,
I'll fetch a cloth.

MARGARET: Get out!

If you don't mind, I'd love to
have a look at it after tea.

Thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher, I should tell you that I
intend to contest my husband's will.

He was clearly out of his mind
when he left you that cottage.

Hello there.
Oh, hello there.

I wonder, could you point me
in the direction of Rose Cottage?

Indeed I could, ma'am, just
follow the path up ahead

and you'll see it on
the right. Ah, thank you.

Will you be warm enough?

Oh, I think so.
I'll walk fast.

They keep the key under the mat.

Thank you.

Bream'?

Hi.

How did you know it was me?

Your friend.

Oh, I suppose being a mystery writer
makes you a nosey parker as well.

Guilty as charged. And it does
mean that I notice things.

Such as?

Well, such as, that it's
not the easiest thing to be

the youngest member
of the family.

Hmm. Well, my mother thinks
I'm totally crazy.

And all Fiona ever thinks
about is herself.

But your father understood.

Yeah, he did, until, uh...

Well, Rose Cottage
belongs to you.

And everything that's in it,

but I would like to keep this,
please.

Oh, yes, of course, that
belonged to your father.

How do you know that?

Well, he was wearing it
in the video.

Would you like a cup of tea?

Oh, I'd love some.

I'll just put her in her box.
There you go.

Paddy Whelan tells me that
you're not staying at Second Chance.

No. You probably guessed
I've been living here.

Well, you're welcome to stay
on here. You and your friend.

Her name's Ooshna.

I'll remember that.
Hello, Ooshna. I'm Jessica.

Well, now, Jessica. Why did my
Da leave you Rose Cottage?

And what did he mean about the
second chance you gave him?

It's a long story. It happened
some time ago. You see...

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Breeta, lthought
you might be here.

I just wanted to be sure Mrs.
Fletcher found the place all right.

Well, she could
hardly miss it, Michael.

No, you're right.

But thank you for your concern.

Ay, Breeta, your mother put
your envelope in her desk.

I think you should
ask her for it.

Why should I?

Well, Eamon said that we
should all work together.

And you'll know better than anyone
how your father's mind worked.

You were always doing
crosswords together.

Are you going to share your
clue with us, Mr. Davis?

It's Michael.
And indeed I am.

"A piercing spear waging w*r."

And mine is...

(READING)

These sound as if
they come from a poem.

Yeah, it is. It's an old Celtic
poem called The Song ofAmairgen.

Denny will probably sing it
at the music festival.

Who's Denny?

Oh, he's the local crackpot.

Michael, he's not.
He's a sort of a poet.

I heard Nora talking about
"The Lost Boy."

What did she mean by that?

Well, it's one of the songs
Denny always sings.

I'm sure Nora must
have heard it.

She was talking to John
Herlihy in the kitchen about it.

You heard her,
didn't you, Michael?

I don't really remember what
she was saying.

Maybe it was part of the
clue she was given.

Breeta, do you have any notion
what the treasure might be?

No. I don't.

You must have an idea.

For God's sake, Michael, I
don't, okay? And I don't care.

I told my Da I didn't give a fig
for his money or the treasure.

It can stay hidden
for all I care. Okay?

I better get after her. When she's
het up, she can act like an idiot.

MICHAEL: Breeta.
Breeta, wait a minute!

(READING)

Oh, my goodness!

Nora?

Nora? Nora?

(BUMPING SOUNDS)

Nora?

0h. my God!

(BUMPING SOUNDS)

Mrs. Fletcher?

Mrs. Fletcher.

Yes?
I'm Inspector O'Dwyer.

I understand you've had
a very distressing experience.

Oh, yes.

Would you show me
exactly what happened?

Oh, yes, of course. It's
right up here in the barn.

So, you just walked inside and
John Herlihy fell through that trapdoor?

Yes. That's right.
He fell head-first.

Did he, indeed?

When I went to feel his pulse,
I'm almost sure that he was dead.

So you saw him
fall through the trapdoor

and he landed on his head
and that's what k*lled him.

No. I don't believe it was
the fall that k*lled him.

You see, when I examined him he had a
severe hematoma on the back of his neck.

Now, that could have
k*lled him outright.

But there was an undeveloped
one on his forehead

that he got on the way down
on the trapdoor.

No. Are you in
the medical field?

Ah, right, so as a mystery writer,
you are looking for the unexpected,

and, if you don't mind me saying
so, the sensational. Well, not when...

You see a man fall through
a trapdoor, and you say,

"Ah, sure, the fellow was
hit on the back of the head."

Well, it appeared... As a hard-working
policeman, I'm looking for the likely.

Your man, John Herlihy,
was a known drunk,

and our people found half
a bottle of whiskey up there.

So I'd say, he tumbled through the
trapdoor, hit his forehead as he fell,

and landed on the back of his
head, and that's what k*lled him.

All right, but I'm almost sure
that immediately after he fell

I heard the sound of movement,
someone up there.

Well, there'|| be a post-mortem,

sure that will tell us
how the poor fellow d*ed.

Excuse me.

MICHAEL: Breeta, Breeta.

Are you all right?
Yeah. I just feel a bit sick.

I have something to tell you.

Look, if it's about John
Herlihy... He's been k*lled, I know,

and I'm real sorry, but Breeta,
this is about you and me.

Michael, there is no you and
me, okay? We're just friends.

I can't tell you why, but, Breeta,
things are going to be different.

I have prospects
now. Good prospects.

No. No. No, you and your
get-rich-quick schemes.

I don't want to hear about them.

I'm going to Rose Cottage
and I want to be on my own.

Mr. Whelan, are you on your
way to Second Chance?

Maybe you could show me the way.

Uh, sure.
Okay.

That was a terrible thing
about John Herlihy.

Yeah, well I never cared for
the fella myself.

Oh? Not that I wished
him any harm or anything,

but he was always on the make,
you know. Eamon could never see it.

Are you in business,
Mr. Whelan?

I own a garage.
Oh, family business?

No. I don't come
from around here.

Oh, I see. I came from
Connemara, looking for work,

and Eamon Byrne gave me a job.
Then the owner of the garage d*ed.

And you bought it.

I did. Well, with the
help of Eamon Byrne.

Oh, that was very nice of him.

Well, there's Second Chance.
You should be all right now.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

FIONA: As our attorney,

what are you saying, Charles?

Really? Are you sure of
that, Charles?

What? What does he say?
Mother, wait, I'm on... Yes, Charles.

Yes. I see. Right.
Thank you. Goodbye.

Charles agrees with us. Father
couldn't have done it by himself,

so he must have asked John
Herlihy to hide the treasure.

That's why Herlihy
got no envelope.

And now he's dead so no one
knows where the treasure is.

It's just as well. When he was
drunk he could have told anyone.

What about that
ridiculously large bequest?

£25,000. How much
is that in Euros?

Charles says that
under the terms of the will,

Herlihy's bequest
comes back to the estate.

Oh, well that's
something, I suppose.

Though it should come to me!

FIONA: Oh, for God's sakes,
Mother.

MARGARET: I'm only saying, as the
senior survivor that the money is mine.

FIONA: He left you a very substantial
amount. How much money do you need?

It's not that I need anything,

I'm only suggesting that
we do the right thing, Fiona.

Oh? Mrs. Fletcher.

We were just saying, what a terrible
tragedy about poor John Herlihy.

And, I gather, you
were there when it happened.

Yes, I was.
Oh, the poor man.

Ah, you must be exhausted.

Fiona, tell Nora to show Mrs.
Fletcher up to her room. Thank you.

She's wailing and howling
like a banshee.

You'd have thought John
Herlihy was a close relative.

Well, tell her to stop.
Poor Nora.

Nora, will you come here!

Ah, the poor creature,
Mother of God, help us all.

Oh, God! MARGARET:
Nora, stop that. Come here.

You show Mrs. Fletcher
up to her room.

I will, ma'am.

Thank you.

You've been with the family
a long time, I expect.

Oh, no, only since...
That is, I took over

when Kitty Murphy got
too old to carry on.

Ah, you applied for the job?

Well, I got a letter from an employment
agency saying there was this job

and why didn't I
go in for it. So I did.

I see.
Here's your room.

Let me know if there's
anything you need.

Thank you.
Oh, this is very nice.

I'm sorry to have caused you
so much trouble at this sad time.

You shouldn't stay
in this place.

There's one who'll stop at
nothing to get the treasure.

MOLLOY: Well, Mrs. Byrne,
is there anything else you need

before the meeting tomorrow?

No. But you better
think about what I said.

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher.

You remember Tom Molloy,
our Sales Director.

Oh, yes, of course.

Hello.
Hello.

Tom, get Mrs. Fletcher
a glass of sherry.

We were just talking about
Eamon's will. And the treasure.

I have to say,

if it were up to me, I'd get everyone
together, we'd open the envelopes,

have a grand party as we all
sat around and solved the riddle.

(LAUGHS) Well, it's got
nothing to do with you.

Exactly, Fiona.

It is, Tom, or should
be, a family matter.

My envelope is under
lock and key in the desk

along with Breeta's.

Oh, Fiona.

Here.

(CRASHING)

What's that woman up to now?

I'd better go and see.

What a fascinating collection!
I suppose it's all Celtic.

MOLLOY: Oh, yeah, and very
valuable, too, I should imagine.

I never shared my husband's
enthusiasm for old weapons.

Mother, she's not
in the kitchen.

I don't know where she is.

Well, find her. And when you
do, give her a good talking-to.

Can't have her disappearing like
that. I can do with a ride into town, Tom.

You'll excuse us,
Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, yes.

Nora? Nora are you all right?

Nora?

Oh, that's very good of you,
but you really don't have to.

Oh, I like to help.
Did you find Nora?

No, but she often goes off on her
own. I'll get the rest of the glasses.

Oh.

(NORA PRAYING NERVOUSLY)

Oh, Mother of God.
Deliver us from temptation.

Oh, Mother of God, it's you.

You've k*lled him, haven't you?

Don't hurt me, please.
|won't tell. I forgot,

I didn't bring my clue.
Don't get angry.

I swear, I'll help,
but please...

(DOOR CLOSING)

Oh, God.

(GLASS BREAKING)

(GLASS BREAKING)

Is someone there?

Oh!

Well done, lads.

Take a cast of the footprint.

Mrs. Fletcher, are
you sure you shouldn't go

to the hospital
just to make sure?

Thank you. I'm
quite all right,

just a few bruises.

You couldn't identify
the intruder?

It all happened so quickly.
The door hit me,

and I went flying backwards

and by the time I'd
got myself together,

whoever it was had gone.

Just as well. You say
the only item missing was

a short sword,
Mrs. Byrne?

Presumably the thief
would have taken more

if Mrs. Fletcher
hadn't interrupted.

Yes, although, I can't help
wondering if possibly whoever

it was, might have been
looking for something in that desk.

Maybe we should have a look
and see if anything's missing.

Oh, I'm sure there isn't.

What about the clues to this
treasure I keep hearing about?

Were any of them kept
there by any chance?

They're all there.

I dare say you have Mrs.
Fletcher to thank for that.

We found the imprint of a
rubber boot outside the door,

so, if we could
have a look at any

Wellington boots you have in
the house just to eliminate them.

We keep them in the back hall.

I'll have a look, sir.

Well, we have to be going.
We have a meeting to go to.

You don't mind,
Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, no.

I'm sure you'll be glad of
a bit of peace and quiet.

Come along, Fiona.

I'm coming.

You have the results of the
postmortem for John Herlihy?

Yes. You were quite right.

It was that blow to the back
of the head that k*lled him.

Then it was m*rder.

I'm afraid so.

(MEOWS)

Oh, my, you startled me.
Did I startle you?

Of course, that's
how it was done.

MAN ON RADIO: Tonight, tonight
at The Railway Bar

the start of the
Celtic Festival!

This shows the financial situation in
these areas for the past six months.

There's peat, there's granite, and
these are the building contracts.

MARGARET: Oh, my word!

You mean they're
all losing money?

I'm afraid so.
And this shows

the overall financial
situation of the firm.

FIONA: You're actually saying
that we're in the red.

But Father always
seemed so confident.

I'm afraid he was failing very
badly in the last three years.

I did try to warn him.

What are we going to do?

CHARLES: Well, I don't want to
step on Tom Mo||oy's toes,

I know that Eamon thought
very highly of him...

Sounds to me as though Tom
Molloy got us into this mess.

|wouldn't say that,

but I will leave you
with these suggestions.

If Tom doesn't agree
with them...

Oh, Tom will agree.
I'll see to that.

Well, I have to go.

I have a meeting with Mrs.
Fletcher in a half an hour.

Tell her that I will never
let her have Rose Cottage.

Mmm.

Fiona.

Can I help you?

Yes, I have an appointment
with Mr. McCafferty.

It's Jessica Fletcher.

He has someone
with him right now.

Would you like to have a seat?

PADDY: What the hell did I
come down here for?

You can't help me.
That's all I need to know.

Oh, Mr. Whelan.

Hi, Mrs. Fletcher.

Mrs. Fletcher,
I'm so sorry.

I needed to see Paddy Whelan
on something rather unexpected.

Please, do come in.

Thank you.

He seemed upset.

Paddy's a bit of a rough diamond

with quite a hot temper on him,

but there's no real harm in him.

He was upset that Eamon
didn't leave him any money.

Especially since there was
a bequest to Michael Davis.

Exactly so.

There's always been a rivalry
between the two of them.

And, of course,
it's common knowledge

that Paddy's garage is
in financial difficulties.

So finding the treasure
would be important to him.

Oh, well, I suppose it would.

Please, do sit down.
Thank you.

Will you have a drink?

Oh, thank you, no.
It's a little early for me.

Oh, it is for me too,
but truth to tell,

I thought a drop of whiskey
might calm Paddy down.

You have a beautiful office.

I'm afraid that it's one
of my failings.

I like to surround myself
with beautiful things.

Connemara...

I've never been there.
But I hear it's beautiful.

I've never been there either.

That was given to me and I
keep it out of sentiment.

Now, have you thought any
more about Rose Cottage?

I have. And I'm
still uncertain.

Ah.

If Mrs. Byrne decides to
contest the will,

would you be able to give me
the name of a good solicitor?

Oh, yes, I can recommend
a grand firm in Dublin.

Thank you, that
will be very helpful.

Wasn't it terrible news about
the m*rder of John Herlihy?

Ah, so it was m*rder, then.

Mmm-hmm.
Well, that's terrible.

Mr. Molloy. Mr. Molloy.
Have you got a moment?

No. No, I don't. Look,
just a second, please.

What is it? I was just
over at Mr. McCafferty's

to see if there was anything
I could do about the will.

What about the will?
You can't change it.

No, I know, that's what
he said. It's just...

I'm having some trouble
with my business.

Look, the fact that Eamon gave
you money to start that garage

doesn't mean his estate
is responsible for it.

You're on your own there, boys.

Look, all I'm asking is...

I told you. Now
leave me alone.

PADDY: Well thanks for
nothing, Molloy.

God, you people are all the same, you,
McCafferty, the whole bloody lot of you.

You don't care about anything
but your own little worlds.

Well, we'll make it,
me and Breeta.

We'll show you. And you
can all go to hell.

(IRISH MUSIC PLAYING)

Listen to me, Margaret!
I don't agree at all.

You're just throwing
good money after bad.

Look, the money's gone
somewhere, that's for certain.

We might as well try
to save what's left.

If Charles' plan...

What does Charles know?
He's not a businessman!

Well, neither,
apparently, are you!

Mother, keep out of this.

All I'm saying is that the
business started losing money

when Charles McCafferty took
over the affairs of Byrne Enterprises.

Oh, yeah. Wasn't
that the same time

when you became Sales Director?

That was great.

Oh, they're just
getting started.

Can I get you something
to drink? A glass of whiskey?

No, thank you. I'll
have a small sherry.

I'll take an orange juice.

Orange juice? I've never
known you to refuse whiskey.

All right, Breeta,
orange juice it is, then.

Oh, Mr. Whelan?
Yeah.

You told me that
you had a garage.

Do you, by any chance,
have a taxi service?

I certainly do. Saint Brendan
Motors, at your service.

Good. I need to go into
Rathgen early tomorrow.

I need to give a
statement to the police

about the death of John Herlihy.

Don't bother with a taxi,
I'll drive you there myself.

Thanks a bunch.

Is 9:00 too early?

Mmm-hmm.

I've been wondering,

you promised to tell me
why Da left you Rose Cottage.

Ah, yes, I did.

Well, I was taking a
walk one evening

along the cliff in Cabot Cove.

And up ahead of me
I saw this young man

and he was standing, looking
down at the rocks below.

And he looked so alone.
I had the feeling that

he was going to throw
himself over the edge.

And that was my Da?

Yes.
I yelled at him

and he hesitated long
enough for me to run up

and grab him and pull him away.

So you saved his life.

Well, we sat down and we talked

and he was in a
terrible state of despair.

He said that after
what he had done,

he didn't deserve to live.

And I told him that everybody
deserved a second chance.

Did he tell you what he'd done?

No. He simply said that he had
betrayed a sacred trust.

I'm the Sales Director,
not a bloody accountant.

Give me something
to sell and I sell it.

There's nothing wrong
with my sales.

It's the company profits
that have taken a nosedive.

Well I still don't think
it's Charles' fault.

Maybe not.

Well, don't look at me!

And don't you look at me!

It's not my fault the
company's in the red.

Someone's undermining this
business, and I'd like to know who it is.

Well, why should
anyone do such a thing?

What if Eamon was
being blackmailed?

Maybe he was fiddling
with the books

to cover up that someone
was squeezing him.

But who? Who could
it have been?

I don't know. Unless...

What do you know about Paddy?

Just that he came here
from Connemara

and Father set him
up in business.

That's a funny sort
of thing to do,

to set up a total
stranger in business.

Unless Paddy had some
sort of hold over him.

Yeah, well if it comes to
that, why take Michael in

and pay for his education?

Why indeed?

Do you mind if I ask you
a rather personal question?

No. I often ask
them myself.

Why did you fall out
with your father?

Oh, we, uh, we quarreled
over Paddy Whelan.

I thought he liked Paddy.

He gave him the money for
the garage, didn't he?

Yeah, he did, but...

Did your father know that
that you were pregnant?

How did you know?

Well, I couldn't help
noticing how surprised

Michael was when you
ordered an orange juice.

(LAUGHS)
Yeah, I told my Da,

and he said it was a
terrible thing to bring

a child into the world
with no daddy.

Yes, but he liked Paddy.

Yeah, but I told him Paddy and
I don't believe in marriage.

(HONKING)

What does this
idiot think he's doing?

I think you should pull
over and let him pass.

I can't get over.

Are you quite sure
you're all right, Breeta?

Yeah, I'm fine.
I'm fine.

Paddy is not
answering his phone.

Isn't that just like him!
He must have it switched off.

(SIREN BLARING)

Mrs. Fletcher, Miss Byrne,
are you all right?

Oh, yes, Inspector, I'm
perfectly all right.

I'm really worried about Breeta.

We were forced off the road.

Would you agree, Miss Byrne?

I mean, that it was
a deliberate act

and not just an accident.

How would I know

the way people drive these days.

Did you get a
registration number?

No. I'm afraid
I didn't.

I was too busy trying to
keep my car on the road.

Mrs. Fletcher?

I didn't catch it either.

But I did see that it was a
white van. A very dirty one.

A dirty white van. Not much
to go on, I'm afraid.

We'll look into it.

Mrs. Fletcher, we'll get
a tow truck for Breeta.

If you'd come with me to
Rathgen and give your statement,

I'll see you get
back to Ballymure.

Of course.

The Garda will take
care of you, darling.

Okay, thanks.

Mrs. Byrne, I'm
sure you heard

that Breeta and I were
forced off the road today.

It was probably an accident.

Breeta's always
imagining things.

Well, no one imagined
the m*rder of John Herlihy

or the robbery at your house.

I really do think
that it may have

something to do
with this treasure.

And I think it has
nothing to do with you.

Well, actually it has a
great deal to do with me

because Eamon left me a
clue to the treasure.

Well, obviously he
was out of his mind.

I'd like to know what kind
of a hold you had over him.

Were you blackmailing him?

I suppose if we look at
his bank accounts now

we'll find that he
was sending you money.

Mrs. Byrne, the incident
that took place between

Eamon and me was private.

But this I can tell you,

when he became successful
he sent me a check for £10,000.

Ha!

I sent it back.
I didn't keep it.

And that was the last I heard,

until Mr. Ryan sent me
a round-trip ticket

and asked me to be here because
I was a beneficiary in Eamon's will.

Is Breeta all right?

Yes, yes, she is.

We were both very shaken up.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Oh, Mr. Whelan.

Do you know someone
driving this van

forced Breeta off the
road this morning.

What? Is she all right?

Yes, yes, I think so.

Well, what makes you
think it was this van?

Well, I was riding with her
and I saw the name on the side.

And the paint here matches
the color of her car.

Well, I went out early in
my tow truck

to fetch a broken down car.

You know, she tried
to telephone you,

but there was no reply.

Mobile phones don't
work up in the hills.

Could anyone else have
taken it without your knowing?

I suppose. The keys are
always kept in the office.

Yeah...

Breeta, have you met
any of Paddy's family?

No, I don't think he has any.
He's a bit of a loner.

I guess that's why
we get on so well.

You know, that white van that ran us
off the road today, that was Paddy's.

I saw the name.

And there was a smear of red
paint on the side of the van

that matches the
paint of your car.

No. It couldn't have
been Paddy driving.

He'd never do anything
to hurt me or the baby.

Yes, that's what
lthought, but...

You didn't tell
O'Dwyer, did you?

No, but I really should.

Oh, no, don't. Please don't.

Paddy's had a few
brushes with the police.

Nothing serious,

but when he loses his temper,
he'll do anything.

Paddy, hey!

Hey, would you take
a look at my car

and make sure it's working okay?

Oh, we're on speaking
terms again now are we?

Sure, I'll have a look at it.
Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm fine.

And why shouldn't she be?

Well, we were
forced off the road

by a white van this morning.

You've got a white van,
Paddy, haven't you?

What the hell do
you mean by that?

Look, would you two just stop.
We're here to have fun.

BREETA: Come on,
Jessica, let's go inside.

I'll get the drinks, okay?
Right, I'll get a table.

MICHAEL: What about your clue
to the treasure, Paddy?

When are you gonna put it
on the table with the rest of us?

I'm not putting it anywhere
where a chancer like you

can get your hands on it.

Oh, chancer, is it?

I'm not the one whose
business is on the skids.

And I suppose you're not the
one who pinched the sword.

You're right about that.

I don't have to
steal from the Byrnes.

Breeta and me
are getting married.

Paddy, no, stop, just stop.

PADDY: Did you hear what
that bastard said?

What did you call me?

You heard what I called you.
I called you a bastard!

I don't care what you
called him, okay?

I am sick to death of you and
this damned temper of yours.

All right, fine,
then you have him.

You want him, you
got him. Have him!

Have him!

ANNOUNCER ON MICROPHONE:
Would you all hold your noise down?

Come on, lads, lads, please!

Come on. Now, give me your
attention over here.

My Uncle Denny's going to come out here
now and he's gonna tell you all a story.

So if I can just get you all
to put your hands together

with a little bit of
encouragement

for my old Uncle Denny.

(CROWD APPLAUDS)

Thank you very much.

I will tell you
the tale of Nuada.

Nuada of the Silver Hand!

Will you have a little patience?

And you've got it wrong!

He was Nuada Argat-I am, Nuada
Silver Arm... (CELL PHONE RINGING)

but he wasn't called
that till later.

Hello.

Nuada was king of the
Tuatha de Danaan,

and they were gods,

but they could die too,
like the rest of us.

King Nuada was a great fighter,

aided by his mighty sword,

from which no one could
escape once it was drawn.

I'll be right back.

And he fought the great
battle of Mag Tured,

and defeated the
Fir Belg, but...

There was a price to pay.

Sure, there was a
price to be paid...

lthought you'd come around.

For in that battle,
Nuada lost his hand,

and because any King of the
Tuatha de had to be perfect,

he could be king no more.

We don't need
the police involved.

And you were quite right,

Herlihy would blab to
anyone when he was drunk,

and that was most of the time.

From that day on he was
known as Nuada Argat-I am,

Nuada Silver Arm,

and sure didn't that
arm work just as well

as the ones you have yourselves.

So, how about a drink?

I better get back.
So it's agreed.

I didn't see anything and
I get half the treasure.

(GROANS)

(TIRES SCREECH)

I know he was a bit of an idiot,

and he never knew when
to hold his tongue,

but he was my friend.

Oh, of course he was.

You know, he told me
that he loved me,

but I, uh...

You love Paddy Whelan.

Yeah.

God, it's just so horrible

to think about
Michael being m*rder*d.

Mrs. Fletcher,
Miss Byrne,

do you feel up to a
few questions now?

I understand that Michael Davis

was sitting at the
table with you.

Yeah, he was.

He got a call on his cell phone.

He went away, but he said
that he would be right back.

I believe it was that call
that lured him to his death.

Oh, God.

I'm sorry.

Inspector O'Dwyer, I
wonder if, by any chance,

you found an envelope that
looks like this on Michael's body?

I'll find out, sir.

Sorry, Paddy, no one's
allowed inside.

Ah come on, Deirdre.
I've got to see Breeta.

She'll be devastated.

DEIRDRE: Well I can't
let you through.

That's enough, Paddy. Now I
have to see to this lady here.

What is it, ma'am?

No envelope was found
on the body, sir.

I saw him put it in his pocket
right after he got here.

Now just earlier he had
shared his clue with us.

Now, I don't believe that
the m*rder*r knew that.

I'm almost sure that Michael Davis
was in the barn when John Herlihy d*ed.

I believe that he was hiding there and
that he may have seen the m*rder*r.

Now, when I was
at the barn that day,

I found a piece of fabric.

Tonight, I noticed

Michael Davis'
jacket had a tear in it.

And you think that's
why he was m*rder*d?

PADDY: Breeta!

Oh, Paddy, it's horrible.
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

Ah, Paddy, I understand there was a bit of
unpleasantness between you and the dead man.

Would you mind telling
me what it was about?

It was a private matter.

Is it true that he was stabbed

with a sword taken
from Second Chance?

Word travels fast.

Well, I don't have any
more questions for you now.

You may leave.

That's the one.
It's Paddy.

Paddy? Are you sure?

MARGARET: I simply can't imagine
why anyone should want to k*ll Michael.

Nora, you've forgot
the marmalade. Again.

Well, I believe that the
m*rder*r took the envelope

with the clue out of
Michael Davis' pocket.

And, Nora, bring some more
hot water, will you?

I mean, first John Herlihy
and then Michael Davis,

both m*rder*d
because of the treasure.

Hmm.

I'm worried about
who might be next.

Mother, give me the key
to the desk drawer.

What for?
Just give it to me.

They were always
fighting, you know.

Michael and that Paddy Whelan.

I expect Paddy m*rder*d him,

it had nothing whatsoever
to do with some treasure.

I'm sorry, but
I think you're wrong.

What do you think you're doing?

Mother, I agree with
Jessica. Enough is enough.

Breeta is the only one
who can solve the clues.

Will you give this to her?

I will.
And mine, as well.

Thank you.

Mother?

Thank you.

You can put mine
back in the desk.

BREETA: What on
earth is that?

It's just lines.

Well, let's take
a look at Fiona's,

put it with the others
and see what we've got.

"The beauty of a plant."

Is that also from
The Song ofAmairgen?

Yeah. But it doesn't
help us much.

Hmm.
"| am the sea-swell."

"A piercing spear
waging w*r."

Well, where's Paddy's?

He said he was gonna drop
his by this evening,

but if we can't make head nor
tail of any of them, then...

Could they possibly be anagrams?

I mean, I know that your Dad
enjoyed doing crossword puzzles...

Yeah, he did, but...

Well, we'll add Fiona's.

Hmm?
Thafsit

The poem's written in Gaelic.

Gaelic?
Of course!

So, all I have to do
is put the clues

back into the Gaelic language

and try to make an
anagram out of them.

That's why he did it this way.

He knew you were the
only one who knew Gaelic.

It was Eamon's way of

making sure that you got
your share of the treasure.

You see, he did leave
you a bequest after all.

I think perhaps he did.

You keep working on this. Do you
know where I'd find Nora at this time?

Oh, it's her afternoon off. She likes
to go to Brigie Murphy's tearoom.

You know the
Avondale Cafe, right?

Yes, thanks.

Hello, Jessica.
Oh, hello.

You caught me. I slipped out
from the office to indulge my vice.

Brigie Murphy's homemade
cakes. I recommend the sponge.

Oh, I'll remember that.

Do you mind if ljoin you?

Your usual Nora?

Oh, please, let me.

A pot of tea for two and scones
with jam and cream and sponge cake.

How does that sound?

So, the employment agency
just wrote to you saying

that the Byrne family needed
someone to replace Kitty Murphy?

That's right.
That's the way it was.

Is Kitty Murphy still alive?

Ah, sure. I don't think
that one will ever die.

Doesn't she live
upstairs with Brigie?

A drop more tea?

Lovely.

Do you remember the name
of the employment agency?

I can't remember. Funny
sort of name. Began with an

I gave the letter to Mrs. Byrne
when I came for the interview.

Very sad about John
Herlihy, wasn't it?

It was.

Although I never
liked him that much.

No, he did seem a rather
difficult sort of chap.

I heard him shouting at
you in the kitchen.

Nora, who is "The Lost Boy"?

I can't. I mustn't. Here. You'd better
have this. I'll tell him I've lost it.

Tell who?

I can't tell you.

Wait, Nora, here's
my cell phone number.

If you have any trouble
don't hesitate to call me.

NORA: (NERVOUSLY)
Oh, Mary, Mother of God...

MAN ON RADIO: He throws a hard
right to the head of the challenger...

Hello? Kitty? Are you there?

He's moving quickly now. He
throws a right, and then a left.

Oh, look out! The ref steps
in... (CLEARS THROAT)

(RADIO CLICKS OFF)

Do forgive me. I believe
you're Kitty Murphy.

Why, it's Jessica Fletcher.

The lady mystery writer.
Sit down, sit down.

Oh, my!

I hope you don't mind, I wanted
to ask you about the Byrne family.

But sure I love to
talk about the old times.

Especially poor Eamon, he was
such a dear, wee fellow.

Not like his father,
a great, big bully.

He was from nothing but he was hell-bent and
determined his son would climb still higher.

Marrying well was one way of it.

But Eamon, ah...

He fell in love?

He did so. And he got
her in the family way.

Mick Byrne sent her off to
Connemara to have the child.

Mick Byrne made sure that
the child was adopted.

Oh, that poor girl.
What became of her?

Mick arranged with her father that she
should be married off to someone else.

But the night before the
wedding, she hanged herself.

Oh, my God. No wonder
Eamon never forgave himself.

What was her name?

Her name was Rose.
Rose MacRoth.

And Eamon left me Rose Cottage.

And he married Margaret and
they had the two girls.

But he never stopped
looking for his son.

He had a son?

Excuse me. But you have no business
to be up here troubling my mother.

Mind your own business, Brigie.

So, Rose's child was a boy?

Oh, a fine boy!

Oh, Eamon knew that. But he
never could find out who adopted him.

"The Lost Boy."

Did Rose have any other family?

Her mother and father are dead.

She did have a sister.

Mrs. Fletcher knows her.

Nora?

Ah, Inspector.

Ah, Mrs. Fletcher.

I've just had a cup of
tea with Nora Flood.

Tell me, what do you know
about Eamon Byrne's family?

Very little. I know he
came from Limerick.

Yes. Did you know that he had a son? Out
of wedlock? That was given up for adoption?

Ah, we're not on about the wee
boy now again, are we, Mrs. Fletcher?

Oh, no, he'd be about
35 years old.

And what? Angry?
Bitter? Greedy?

Murderous?

It's a possibility. I'm on
my way to Rose Cottage.

If you take the shortcut,
by the church,

through the graveyard,
you'll be there in no time.

Thank you.

(CHURCH BELLS RINGING)

Good heavens!

You're right. The Ogham!

And what's that?

It's an ancient Celtic script, the first
known written language in Ireland.

I saw a reference to it in this little
book, but I didn't know what it looked like.

Your clue is different from the
carving I saw in the graveyard,

but it's the same general idea.

I know there's a group of lines
for each letter of the alphabet.

I'll have to check one of my
Da's reference books, though.

(KNOCKING)

Ah, Paddy, I wonder if you'd be so
good as to come with us to the station?

No. Jessica?

Pardon me, Sergeant. Are
you arresting Mr. Whelan?

Just asking him to assist
the police with their enquiries

about the m*rder
of Michael Davis.

Don't worry, love.
They can't keep me.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Hello? Hello? Nora?
Nora, calm down.

What kind of danger?

No, no. Just, uh...
Where are you?

Well, just come over to Rose
Cottage. You'll be quite safe here.

All right, all right.
I'll come right away.

I'm sorry, I have to go for a minute.
I'll be right back. Will you be all right?

Yeah.

Good.

Nora?

Nora!

(DIALING CELL PHONE)

Yes, it's Jessica Fletcher. I
must speak to Inspector O'Dwyer.

Yes, I understand that. But would
you get a message to him, please?

No, no, his voicemail won't do.

Oh, oh, all right.

Inspector O'Dwyer, this
is Jessica Fletcher.

Please call me as soon
as you get this message.

It's very, very urgent.

I'm sure that Nora Flood
is in terrible danger.

Don't look.

Charles, I am so
glad you're here.

You've heard about Nora?

Inspector O'Dwyer came by.
He said her neck was broken.

Ah, I came by to see if there's
anybody from the family I should notify.

Do you know anything
about her family?

No. When I joined the firm she
was already working for the Byrnes.

Breeta is distraught. And
now with Paddy in custody.

Paddy?

They seem to think
that he k*lled Michael.

That's ridiculous.

Apparently Nora said that she
saw him in the telephone box

at the time Michael
received the call.

And his prints were all
over the m*rder w*apon.

That's extraordinary. I'd better go
to Rathgen and see what I can do.

I might be able to
get him out on bail.

Thank you, Charles.
Breeta really needs him now.

FIONA:
Poor Nora.

JESSICA: She said, "He's
watching me all the time."

But who? Who
was she afraid of?

She wouldn't say.

Do you still have the letter
from the employment agency?

Nora said she gave it to you.

I have no idea.

But you know, if it was
anywhere it would be in that desk.

Mother never throws
anything away.

Just a moment...

Aha! The Marchot
Employment Agency.

You know, I remember now,
I thought it was strange that

they should tell her that
there was a job here,

so I kept this letter, just in case
she proved less than satisfactory.

So you didn't write
to them first?

Oh, no, no. I'd never
heard of them.

Oh.

BREETA: These seem to be
anagrams of different places around here.

I've marked them on the map but they're
just dotted around all over the place.

Have you got a list of the order in
which the clues come in the poem?

What would happen if we
put them in that order?

Now that would make the
first one in Ballymure, right?

Right.

And we don't count mine, so, that's Michael's,
Paddy's, and there's yours too, Jessica.

That's right. And then there's Nora's,
and Fiona's and that would be five.

It would really help if
we had my mother's clue.

What we do have seems to
lead right into these hills.

But where exactly?

But what about your clue? Have you had
any luck with your research on the Ogham?

The only thing I could make out,

is that it seemed to be the
Celtic word for "tortoise."

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(DOOR OPENING)

Hey, Breeta.
Hey.

Charles McCafferty told O'Dwyer
he didn't have enough to hold me on,

so he'd better
charge me or let me go.

Good old Charlie.

Well, what about your
fingerprints on the sword?

Ah, that was all nonsense.

I said I was often in the house
and could have handled it at anytime.

And did you?

Who knows?

Did they tell you about Nora?

Yes. I wouldn't have wished
her any harm, poor creature.

But apparently she said I was the
one who phoned Michael at the pub.

But you didn't?

I did not. I didn't have
my mobile phone with me,

so I went to the box to call Breeta,
but her mobile was switched off.

We've simply got to figure out where this
treasure is before someone else is m*rder*d.

PADDY: Well let's hope
that doesn't happen.

Breeta, you keep on working.
I'm going to check something out.

Okay.

Did you want something?

Oh, sorry, did I startle you?

It's all right, I took
everything out and put it away.

I must be getting jumpy.

There's a m*rder*r about.

Now Fiona's gone into
town. With Tom Molloy.

We're all alone.

Pretty frightening,
with all these murders.

And I think I know
why you're here.

You know, Jessica,

perhaps I should have
listened to you.

Here.

Give that to Breeta, will you?

Thank you.

Hello? Breeta?

(CAR ENGINE STARTING)

(CAR DRIVING AWAY)

BREETA: "Dear Jessica,
I think I solved it.

”Da knew that! loved
my tortoise.

'Wt wasn't an anagram
after all, it was a name."

Ooshna. Her name is Ooshna.

BREETA: "Paddy and I have
gone to get the treasure.

”It's on the road to Rathgen. I know
we'll find it. It's marked. Love, Breeta."

"P.S. Its proper name is Uisnech, the Heart
of Ireland, but it's pronounced Ooshna.

"It's a hermit's cave."

Marchot, Marchot, of course,
that's an anagram for MacRoth.

Oh, my God, the fingerprints.

Oh, Breeta.

(DIALING)

Yes, this is Jessica Fletcher.

I must speak to
Inspector O'Dwyer.

I have an urgent
message for him.

Say that Breeta Byrne
is in grave danger.

She and Paddy Whelan have gone
to the hermit's cave at Ooshna Hill,

and I'm going to follow them
there. Do you understand?

Are you trying to k*ll
yourself altogether?

I'm so sorry. But I
need a lift urgently.

Are you going
anywhere near Ooshna?

I never heard of it.
I'm going to Rathgen.

Well, that's good enough.

Can you go a little faster?

Don't ask me, ask the car.

Right here is fine. I think I
know where I'm going now.

Thank you very much.

Jessica?

What have you done
with Paddy and Breeta?

What makes you think I've
done anything with them?

You were at Rose Cottage
earlier, weren't you?

Yes...
Well...

I came by to accept grateful
thanks for securing Paddy's release,

and also to see how you were
getting on with the clues.

But luckily the door was open, and I
realized that they'd solved the puzzle.

Just then I heard
someone coming.

I knew it wouldn't do to be found
there so I quickly made my exit.

Fortunately, my car
is a lot faster than

Paddy's old van and I
was able to take a shortcut

and get here first. I even
had time to leave them a note.

It said, "Well done, but
you're not quite there, yet.

"There's another
cave called Uisnech.

"Keep looking, Eamon."

So, Paddy and Breeta
snapped up the note and left.

Leaving you to
find the treasure.

Now, you didn't really think
I'd do them any harm, did you?

You m*rder*d John Herlihy.

What? Why on Earth
would I do that?

Because he wouldn't tell
you where the treasure was,

and you were afraid that when he
was drunk he'd tell someone else.

And you m*rder*d Michael Davis because
he saw you and was blackmailing you.

Really? And how is it that they
found Paddy Whelan's fingerprints

on the m*rder w*apon?

That's one of the things
that gave you away.

I remember that you kept the
glass with Paddy's fingerprints on it.

You said you liked my work.

And I saw my book, The Zero
Aspect, on the bookshelf in your office.

In that novel, the m*rder*r
used adhesive tape

to transfer the fingerprints of an
innocent person onto the m*rder w*apon.

And I did all that because
I wanted the treasure?

No. Not only that.

Mostly for revenge.
You're "The Lost Boy."

I think you're
Rose MacRoth's son.

What an extraordinary idea. I don't
even know who Rose MacRoth is.

I think you do. I think that's why you keep
that souvenir of Connemara in your desk.

Kitty Murphy told me that Rose's
son was born in Connemara.

That's pure coincidence. I
told you that was given to me.

By Nora. She was Rose's sister.
You got her the job with the Byrnes.

That's nonsense. I told you, she was
already here when I came to Ballymure.

But that isn't true.

I have a letter from the
employment agency dated

at least a year after
you joined the firm.

I suspect that your
fingerprints are on that letter,

and the name of the agency, which
doesn't exist, by the way, is Marchot,

which is an anagram of MacRoth.

You may have figured this out,
Jessica. But no one will believe you.

I think they will, when I tell them
that you put Nora into the household

because you thought she could be
useful in watching the family. But then...

Yes, poor Aunt Nora.

I soon realized that she was
something of a liability and

tried to scare her into silence,

but once she found about...

About the murders.

You lured her to the
churchyard, and m*rder*d her.

Just in time, too. She'd
have told you everything.

Charles, there's
no point in that.

Inspector O'Dwyer
knows that I'm here.

But he doesn't know that I am.

"The Lost Boy." It sounds
quite romantic, doesn't it?

Believe me, when your adoptive
father is an abusive drunk,

and the woman you've been told to
call your mother is cold and unfeeling,

you have plenty of time to plan
revenge. And that's what I did.

On Eamon Byrne, the
father who abandoned me.

I planned to take it all away from
him, and leave them with nothing.

And with some careful
manipulation of the books, I did it.

I'm only sorry that
Eamon didn't live to see it.

Step over there, please.

MAN:
Hold it right there!

CHARLES: Wait!

Put him in the car.

Mrs. Fletcher,
you all right?

Yes, I'll be fine.
Thank God you arrived.

Well, after last time,
I left instructions that

any message from you must be
passed on to me immediately, night or day.

Excuse me, Madam,
does this belong to you?

Thank you, I'll take it.

It belongs to the Byrne family.

JESSICA: Oh, Breeta, I'm
so glad I got to know you.

BREETA: if I had one wish, only one, I wish
you could come to our wedding, Jessica.

Oh, so do I. I couldn't
be happier for both of you.

I'm happy for you too, Breeta. I never
would have thought it would happen.

It would really pleased Da.

It would give me the
greatest pleasure,

if you would accept Rose Cottage
as my wedding present to you.

Oh, Jessica, you are wonderful. Do you
know that? Thank you so much for that.

Thank you for everything.

God bless you, Jessica. Thank
you. Thank you very much.

You're very welcome.

Isn't it time we had a
look at the treasure?

I think Jessica
should unwrap it.

FIONA: Yes,
good idea.

Well, if you're sure.

(GASPS)

Nuada's Silver Arm.

Geez, it must be a
1,000 years old.

It may be old
but it's beautiful.

How much do you
think that's worth?

Look, Breeta, here's
a Celtic inscription.

It says, "Happiness comes to
all those who cherish others."

Oh...

Here we are.

Breeta. Oh, thanks, Paddy.

Here you go, Jessica.

Here's to the memory
of Eamon Byrne,

who did indeed cherish his family, and
who made the most of his second chance.

Ay.

ALL: Eamon!
Post Reply