01x25 - Into the Widow's Web

[bunniefuu]

Your license shows no specifications
for street shows, Mr. Mortensen.

Well, don't tell me our
esteemed city attorney...

has dug up an ordinance
against a little free entertainment?

Well, Fats, you haven't given away
anything for nothing in your entire career.

Mr. Archer, why, here's two tickets
for tonight's performance.

Down front,
on the aisle.

First thing a man in public office learns
is take a present, owe a favor.

Now, Fats, just keep
the noise down, huh?

Thank you, thank you, thank you,
ladies and gentlemen.

And now for
the pièce de résistance.

The most exciting act that's ever appeared
in our fair city of Stockton.

The lovely lady with the face of an angel
and the voice of a nightingale...

the Sweetheart of the Sierras,
Miss Liberty Keane, ladies and gentlemen.

She's been called
the Songbird of Sacramento...

the Golden Voice
of the Golden State.

And you will hear that lovely voice
on our stage here this evening.

Let's hear somethin' now.

Friend, we can't do a whole show
here on the street.

- But if you'll be in our theater tonight-
- Let's hear what she can do.

Come on. Come on, girlie.
Give us a sample.

Well, now, look, friend, I just got
through telling you that we can't-

You gonna start singin' a song,
or do I start shootin'?

Heath!

Hold on, Heath! Doggone it, Heath!
Now, cut that out!

Heath, stop that.!
Now, hold on.! Heath.!

Doggone it! Hold on!
Get off of him!

Heaven preserve us
from impetuous young fools!

It's all right, folks. It's all right.
It's all part of the act.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the Great Ambrose...

the man whose keen eye
and steady hand...

has won him 53 medals from
the crowned heads of Europe.

And if you think
that was sharpshooting...

just wait till you see his performance
on our stage tonight.

- Take them in, Deputy.
- There was no real harm done, Mr. Archer.

Fats here was just drumming up
business for his new show.

I know what he was doing.
And you heard what I said.

I'm, uh, gonna have to
run you in for this, Fats.

Justice will triumph,
ladies and gentlemen.

Never fear. The curtain
at Mortensen's Theater...

will go up
at 8:00 sharp tonight.

Round up your songbird,
and let's go.

Well, if you'd waited, I could have
told you it was part of the act.

They'll need a lawyer.
Will you help 'em out?

Well, Heath, I can't do that
unless they ask me.

Well, I'm asking you.

Now, Mr. Mortensen
may call it entertainment...

but the fact is,
discharging firearms on a city street...

is in violation of Ordinance 116
and punishable by a fine of $300.

$300! Archer, you know
I can't spare that kind of money!

Seems to me you have enough money
to hire a very expensive legal counsel.

Oh, well, uh, Mr. Mortensen
and I have a little agreement-

best seats in the house
for opening night, right?

Fred, it seems to me
that under the circumstances...

$300 is a bit excessive.

If your client prefers, perhaps he'd take
the jail sentence of 30 days.

Come on now, Phil.
We're only dealing with...

the Fats Mortensen g*ng,
not Quantrill's Raiders.

Is that the latest
in San Francisco sophistication?

I mean, this is a little
out of your current bailiwick.

What is your interest here,
Jarrod?

Well, like any other citizen
of Stockton...

I think I'd be disappointed
if the show didn't go on.

- So would I.
- What happened out there today...

could have caused
serious trouble.

- Settle down. Anybody hurt? Any damage done?
- That's besides the point.

- It wasn't anything to boil over about.
- What do you want me to do?

Ignore the entire incident
becauseJarrod Barkley is involved?

Well, now, it seems to me that
the punishment ought to fit the crime.

Fred, why don't we have
Mr. Mortensen do a show...

at the orphanage
as a condition of his release?

- Agreed, Fats?
- Oh, fine. Fine.

All right. It's settled then.
Now, clear 'em out of here.

Mr. Barkley, thank you very much.
The tickets will be at the box office.

Liberty, my dear.

It's apparent to me, Sheriff,
that you and I have to reach...

some kind of understanding
about our respective duties.

Don't go puffin' up
like a turkey gobbler, Phil.

You're fresh in yourjob,
and I've had mine for 10 years.

I can see I'm gonna
have to cure your buck fever...

just like I did Jarrod's when he
first took over your job.

How well I remember. If you'd like to
hear the sad story, I'll buy you a drink.

To celebrate what? How the big-time
San Francisco attorney...

got the best
of a small-town lawyer?

No, thank you.

See you later, Fred.

- Liberty?
- Yes?

- A message for you at the stage door.
- Thank you, Mr. Mortensen.

Oh, uh, you better get
some food into him.

All right.

To Heath Barkley...

who has health, wealth...

and, I hope, happiness.

And to Liberty Keane, the Sweetheart
of Strawberry, and now of Stockton.

You know, Heath,
when I was a very little girl...

Papa used to read me stories
at night.

There was a book
we both loved.

It was about a-
a poor ragamuffin boy...

who grew up to learn
that he had great expectations.

I'm very happy for you,
Heath.

I've often wondered how
you've been makin' out, Libby.

Well, now you know.

I'm sorry you never made it
to New York, Libby.

- What's funny?
- Oh, life.

When you were 16 years old,
you begged me to run away and marry you.

Remember?
And Papa ran you off?

Well, that wasn't funny, not to me.

Nor to me.
But Papa kept saying...

"We're just that far
away, Libby.

Just that far away
from success. "

After Papa died, I went back
to Strawberry to look for you.

But it, um, was too late.
You'd already gone.

I- I guess everything
turns out for the best.

- Did it, Libby?
- Just think.

If I had run off
with you that summer...

right- right now you wouldn't be
a dashing, eligible bachelor...

entertaining actresses
with, uh, champagne suppers.

Well, I don't make
a habit of it-

the suppers
or the proposals.

I know that. Any other man
would have arranged this whole supper...

just to show a girl
what she-what she missed.

But not you.

You're kind and concerned.

It's almost as if you
still cared a little.

You don't stop caring about people
just because you're separated.

Heath, if only we could...

turn time back.

If we could just be the way
we used to be.

But I- I guess
that isn't possible.

But I- I had tonight,
and I'll always be grateful for that.

That sounds like
you're saying good-bye.

- That's right.
- But why?

Well, I'm not sure what time the saloons
close here in Stockton.

But when they do,
the Great Ambrose...

will come weaving his way
back to the theater.

- And if I'm not there-
- And if you're not there, what?

He'll either fall asleep
in a drunken stupor...

or be waiting up for me
in a wild, jealous rage.

Well, does he have a right
to be jealous?

He's my husband.

I needed somebody
to- to look after me.

Don't you see?
Like- Like Papa used to do.

So I- I settled for Ambrose.

Just like everything else
in my life, it went wrong.

I ended up taking care of him.

I'll take you back now, Libby.

You're, uh, angry with me,
aren't you?

Well, I guess you have
every right to be.

Heath, if what I did
tonight seems...

well, shameless to you,
I'm sorry.

It- It's just
that living the way I do...

you-you learn to snatch
at a moment of happiness.

I thought I could
stop loving you, Heath...

but I guess
I never will.

A touching reading, my dear.

But then, you've made a specialty
of these scenes, haven't you?

- No, he's drunk.
- Not that drunk, my dear.

Just remember what I told you.
I never k*ll.

I never have to. I can place the b*llet
so that life isn't worth living.

Good-bye, Heath.

Libby, I can't let you-

Oh, I'll be all right.

After all, where else could he find
such a willing target?

My wife has a penchant for rich,
young admirers.

But strangely enough,
she always comes back to me.

No.!

Libby, are you all right?

Look out, Heath.!

Hurry! Hurry!

- I k*lled him.
- You had no choice.

Don't look like that,
darling.

It was the only thing
you could do.

In here.

Well, well!
Heath Barkley.

- What'd he do? Rob the 'Frisco mint?
- Shut up, Tedrow.

Sheriff, now that this here's
such a high-class jail...

I'll be expectin' a doily
on my breakfast tray.

I can't help this, Heath.
Rules.

When Jarrod gets here,
ask him if he knows a smart lawyer.

You won't be needin'
a smart lawyer.

You can get away with m*rder,
just so long as your name's Barkley.

You said you knew Heath Barkley
in the mining camps.

- That's right.
- How well did you know him?

I told you.
We grew up together.

We were... friends.

Just friends?

What's going on here?
Where's Heath?

He's in a cell, Jarrod. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I had to lock him up.

Why apologize for treating him
just like any other m*rder suspect?

How many times do I have to tell you?
It was self-defense.!

- Why won't he listen to me?
- You remember Miss Keane by her stage name.

She's the victim's wife.
Heath shot her husband tonight.

What makes you use
the word "m*rder"?

I believe I said,
"m*rder suspect. "

At the moment, it's just a death
under mysterious circumstances...

until the coroner's jury
says otherwise.

- You're scheduling an inquest?
- 3:00 tomorrow afternoon...

at the theater,
where the sh**ting took place.

Tell me something, Archer.

Have you really got a case, or is this
just a chance to make the Barkleys sweat?

I'm not a fool, Jarrod.
I have a case. A good one.

Just because you bail me out of jail,
you don't have to follow me around.

What's the matter?
You object to my company?

- I just want to see Liberty alone.
- For appearances' sake...

it would be a lot wiser for you to avoid
any personal contact until after the inquest.

Appearances be hanged!
I'm not letting Liberty face this alone.

- Heath. Oh, Heath, I was so worried about you.
- I got here as soon as I could.

Whatever arrangements she's made,
I'll take care of everything.

- I don't want you to think-
- Now, it's all settled.

You're coming back to the house
and stay with us until this is all over.

Well, thank you.

I don't think I could face going back
to that theater alone right now.

Heath, the inquest is at 3:00.

I think it would be better
if you stayed in town.

We can come back. We both have to
clean up and change clothes.

This is hardly an appropriate
costume for an inquest.

I'm sure Audra can find you something.
Let's go home.

- Heath, how are you?
- I'm fine, Mother.

- Is it all straightened out?
- I'll explain later.

- Mother, Audra, this is Liberty Keane.
- I'm very glad to know you.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

I wish we were meeting
under happier circumstances.

- I do too.
- I've invited Libby to stay a few days.

- Good.
- I- I hope I'm not imposing.

- Not at all.
- Oh.

What a lovely chandelier.

Heath, do you remember
the one back in Strawberry?

The one in the hotel?
You remember the bet I won for Papa?

Her father made a bet that Libby could
rattle the crystals with her singing.

I broke some of them.

The money Papa won
helped pay for the repairs.

Why don't you try
and get some rest?

Audra, would you show
our guest to her room?

Come on, Heath.
We got some talking to do.

Never get arrested for m*rder
in a pair of tight boots.

- Well, Heath?
- Now, don't get that look.

- There's nothing to worry about.
- There's plenty to worry about.

And the sooner you get that through
your head, the better off you'll be.

The Great Ambrose tried to k*ll me.
I shot him in self-defense.

- How many ways can I say it?
- Then why does Phil Archer call it m*rder?

- How should I know?
- He's much too smart...

to try for an indictment
without some pretty good evidence.

Happened just like
I told you.

Now, let me see if
I've got this straight.

You and the victim's wife
renewed an old love affair...

over a midnight supper
at the Alhambra Club.

- It was never an affair.
- Then you returned her to the theater...

at a rather late hour and were confronted
by her understandably angry husband.

He was drunk, crazy jealous.
Life with him must have been hell for her.

A relationship, none-the-less,
sanctified by marriage vows.

- Jarrod, is this necessary?
- I'm afraid it is.

Now, tell me again what happened
in that alley.

He made threats.
She went inside.

- Threats against whom?
- Me.

And in spite of those threats,
you entered a dark theater and k*lled him.

A professional marksman
in a fair fight.

- Do you expect a jury to believe that?
- You've got it all wrong.

- Haven't I told the truth?
- It's the words you use.

You expect the prosecutor
to use nicer words?

All right, Jarrod. Now, you've acted out
the devil's advocate.

Why? Surely you don't think
Heath is guilty?

Of course I don't think
he's guilty.

The trouble is,
how are we going to prove it?

I'll match Jarrod against that
smug jaybird Archer any day.

Oh, wake me
in an hour, huh?

Heath.

It's going to be all right,
isn't it?

Sure it is.
There's nothing to worry about.

We'll tell it just like it happened,
and that'll be the end of it.

Libby, I was raised
on trouble.

It'll be all right.
Trust me?

Read all about the m*rder!
Read all about the m*rder in the theater!

- Come and get your paper right now!
- Willie!

You can't go on
shouting about a m*rder.

This can't rightfully
be called a m*rder...

until the coroner's jury
says a crime has been committed.

But when they do that,
then we can legally accuse the suspect.

The day this town accuses a Barkley
is the day the horn will sound judgment.

Well, now, don't sell
your fellow citizens short.

They're honest men,
and they'll hand down an honest verdict...

without fear or favor.

Whoa!

I wonder how much it'll cost 'em
to get out of this?

Heath was standing right there-
right where you are-

with a g*n in his hand.

Did he say anything?

He said, "I k*lled him. "

"I k*lled him. "
That'll be all, Sheriff.

Thank you. Unless you wish
to bring forward...

any other facts
pertinent to this m*rder.

The word "m*rder," Mr. Archer,
is completely out of order here.

I stand corrected.

And to remind you that any
defense of your brother at this time...

is equally out of order.

And I'll remind you both
that this is an inquest, not a trial.

And I'm in charge.
You're dismissed, Sheriff.

Do you have any further
witnesses, Mr. Archer?

Yes. I call Mrs. Liberty
Keane Carson, please.

Mrs. Carson?

Place your hand on the book. Swear to tell
the truth as you see it, so help you?

I do.

Now, you are Liberty Keane,
the widow of Ambrose Carson?

- Yes, sir.
- Mm-hmm.

And the Great Ambrose was billed
as the "world's finest p*stol shot. "

- Is that correct?
- That's right.

Well, isn't it ironic that he
should be shot dead in a fair fight?

But it was a fair fight!

Ambrose had a g*n in his hand
and was stalking Heath when-

when I called out
to warn him.

Madam, I find it very peculiar
that you should show greater loyalty...

to a stranger than you did
to your own husband.

I told you before.
Heath Barkley and I are old friends.

We grew up together
in the mining camps.

An old friend who saw
nothing reprehensible...

about a clandestine supper
with a married woman?

Heath knew nothing
of my marriage.

I trust the prosecutor will
introduce into evidence...

the fact that the young lady
and my brother met just yesterday...

for the first time
in seven years!

Hardly enough time
to hatch a conspiracy, gentlemen.

Sir, I have no evidence
of conspiracy...

only evidence of
a cold-blooded m*rder!

Gentlemen of the jury, I'd like
you to recall the coroner's report...

that was read to you earlier.

It stated that the witness's husband
was the victim of two b*llet wounds-

one in the right arm, and the second
fatal one in the right temple.

Now, the deed isn't very hard
to reconstruct, is it?

The first shot hit him in
his right arm- his g*n arm-

preventing him from returning any fire
with any degree of accuracy.

Then the k*ller came forward,
and taking careful aim...

shot out his victim's life.

- That's the way it happened, isn't it?
- No!

No? No, it happened
some other way?

Or no, you didn't see him
sh**t your husband...

because you ran outside
when the g*ns started going off?

That's it, isn't it?
That's it.

You were lying when you said you
saw a sh**ting in self-defense.

You didn't see anything.
You didn't see anything!

I told the truth!
It was the truth!

You told a lie.!
You told a lie in order to save a man...

about whom you were so concerned
after the sh**ting!

A man you called "darling" standing over
the dead body of your husband!

Motive for m*rder,
gentlemen-

lust for a beautiful woman.

A motive as old
as original sin.

Makes sordid reading,
doesn't it?

I heard the porter
call you Mr. Barkley.

- Are you one of them?
- What's it to you?

Don't get huffy. I'm Fletcher
of the Oakland Bulletin.

If there's another side to that story,
I'm the man to see it gets into print.

Got anything to say?

Nothin'. Been to Salinas.
Horse auction.

Kind of a shock, huh?

- You might say that, yes.
- I guess right now you're wishing...

the old man's colt had never
come out of the woods.

Nobody says that
about him to me.

You better get used to it.

You're gonna find people like
a good scandal, Barkley.

And when the mud's on you
rich ones, they like it twice as much.

- How's Libby? Is she all right?
- She's fine.

You know, I'm glad she's
got you to look after her.

Libby's had a hard time
all her life.

Right now there's something
hurt and helpless about her.

She needs somebody
to take care ofher.

It's you we're concerned about.

I left strict orders he was
to have no visitors.

Sheriff gave Mrs. Barkley
special permission...

them bein' such
important people and all.

- Shut up, Tedrow.
- This way, please, Mrs. Barkley.

I'm sorry, Fred.

I really can't understand
your objections to my seeing my son.

Your son is about to be
tried for m*rder.

Just because his name is Barkley doesn't
give him any special considerations.

Nor should it prejudice
people against him.

Oh? Well, are you accusing me
of prejudicial behavior, Mrs. Barkley?

Have you been reading
the papers, Mr. Archer?

Neither of us can control
the free press.

Not even to make it clear that
half-truths have been twisted?

You have one opinion,
the coroner's jury had another.

The newspapers are entitled
to theirs.

Not when they try to
blame Heath for something...

beyond his control-
the name he bears.

It seems to me you're unduly
sensitive on that point.

It's my name, and I'm proud of it.
I don't like seeing it smeared.

Do you really believe there would be
all this newspaper notoriety...

if a Barkley
weren't involved?

Would it cause statewide interest
if-if that man Tedrow were on trial?

Now, I'll overlook your doubts
about my integrity, Mrs. Barkley.

But let me tell you this.

Your coming here didn't help
his case at all.

I intend to examine every word of the
testimony of the widow and the defendant...

and if there's any change...

well, there could be an accusation
of conspiracy-with you as intermediary.

That was not the purpose of my visit.
You have my word for that.

And the word of a Barkley
is sacrosanct?

There's only one step from envy
to hate, Mr. Archer...

and I think you've
already taken it.

Nick! Jarrod!

- Hello, Mother.
- Hi.

- How is he?
- Oh, very calm for my benefit.

I'm afraid you can't see him.
Phil Archer says no one...

butJarrod can see him
until the trial.

I just want to tell him I'm back,
and he has nothin' to worry about is all.

- I'll tell him, Nick.
- Oh.

- See you both at the house.
- The rig is over here, Nick.

Does that mean you're sure
he's going to be acquitted?

It means he'd no more commit
m*rder than herd sheep.

Then you Barkleys intend to
stand behind him all the way?

- With everything we've got.
- You ought to be more careful with words.

That could be construed
as a threat to use the Barkley money...

prestige and influence to make sure
your brother gets off.

Well, now, I wouldn't say it
quite that way if I were you.

You trying to tell me
what I can write?

You misquote me, and you're gonna get
yourself in an awful lot of trouble.

- Is that a threat?
- That's a promise.!

Thank you for a very good quote,
Mr. Barkley.

I think you're going to find out
you aren't so high and mighty.

Nick!

Nick!

Nick, come on.

Thank you.

I suggest you pour yourself
a drink, Nick.

- I guarantee you you're going to need it.
- Oh?

- Why?
- We have our name in the paper.

"Ranching heir Nick Barkley
today threatened"-

A lot of filthy, rotten lies!

How- How can they print lies like that
about important people?

Well, it's a rather involved
question of semantics.

Now, Nick may have only said
"promise" to that newspaper man...

but I understand he said it
rather forcefully.

What was I supposed to do?
Just let him get away with it?

You know, your father used to say,
"When you wear a silk hat...

you must be able to duck,
otherwise you make yourself a target...

for every bobtail
who can throw a rock. "

- Now, that's the price you pay for being a Barkley.
- Yeah.

Only in Heath's case,
it could be a lot more than just rocks.

- It could be a rope.
- No! They-They can't!

They can't do that!
Not to Heath!

We won't let them,
will we, Jarrod?

Believe me, Liberty,
we'll do everything we can.

Jarrod-Jarrod, you have got
to make them listen.

You've got to make them
understand how he was.

He- He was cold and cruel
and insanelyjealous.!

If only I hadn't gone
to see Heath that night.

If- If I hadn't screamed
after Ambrose hit me.

That's why he came back-
to help me.

Now, we've got to find a way
to help him.

What do you mean you're gonna
get another lawyer to defend me?

Calm down, will you?
Porter Hammond is one of the best.

He's a master
with the jury.

Prosecutor wants to see you,
Jarrod. It's important.

All right.

Jarrod.

- We don't need another lawyer.
- I think we do.

Public opinion
is running against us.

We need somebody outside
the family.

No. I put my money on you,
and it's stayin' on you.

Hammond is on his way over here.

I'm startin' to
feel sorry for you.

He's tryin' to back out.

Maybe you ain't such a member
of the family as you thought.

I wouldn't have believed it
of you, Jarrod.

I wouldn't have believed
you'd been so stupid!

He had nothing to do with it.
I told you that.

- Nothing to do with what?
- Go on.

Tell the big-time San Francisco lawyer
what you just told me.

Well?

I k*lled Ambrose.

Well, doesn't that surprise you,
Barkley?

Archer thinks you
put her up to it...

- figurin'a jury'd go easier on a pretty woman.
- Oh.

Well, Liberty,
if you're telling the truth...

that means that Heath is lying,
doesn't it?

He must be taking
the blame for you.

Heath knew nothing about it.
The theater was dark.

He- He didn't see me
fire the shot.

With what?

With a g*n you just happened
to have in your hand?

The g*n case
was on the table.

Ambrose had one.
I used the other.

And you claim that in the dark,
with all those b*ll*ts flying around...

yours was the one
that k*lled him?

- I'm a very good shot.
- Really?

Sheriff,
let me have your p*stol.

We'll check and see how well
Mr. Barkley has coached you.

Don't push me
too far, Phil.

I don't need her to win this case,
and you know it.

Just in case you're tempted,
we'll put her to the test.

Look. That "Wanted" poster up on the wall.
The man on the poster.

Go ahead and sh**t him.

Now, were your hands shaking
that much that night?

Go ahead. It's dark!
The g*ns are going off!

Show us how you hit him!
Go ahead! Go on!

You didn't have the time!
Go ahead and sh**t!

All right.

Do you realize you might
have gone to prison...

if your ability to handle a g*n
had been any better?

You lied here,
and you'll lie on the stand.

Reconstructing the crime, Counselor?

Something like that.

- Those are the dressing rooms, huh?
- Oh, yeah.

- Would you mind unlocking 'em for me?
- Not at all.

Oh, say, by the way,
if it's any use to you...

Ambrose was hitting the bottle
pretty hard that night.

- Oh, really?
- Yeah, I noticed it before they went on.

I told her to get
some food into him.

Poor thing.
I sure feel sorry for her.

- This is hers, huh?
- Oh, yeah.

This is his
right next to it.

I wonder what she's
gonna do now.

It's kinda hard on a young woman-
all alone and near broke.

She never could
make it singing.

I guess she can always
go back to sharpshootin'.

I didn't know Liberty
did any sh**ting.

Oh, sure. Ambrose taught her
all kinds of trick shots.

I caught their act once
a couple of years ago.

Just like all the others,
until he got the bright idea...

of making her
the unexpected target.

You know, kinda surprise
the audience.

Him pretendin'he's drunk,
and she's in danger.

Well, when you're finished,
I'll be in my office.

Thank you very much.

Just a minute.

Well, may I come in?

Well, is it something that can't
be taken care of at the office?

I've come to ask a favor,
Phil. A big one.

Come in.

Sit down.

I didn't know you still
played the tuba, Phil.

Why should you know?
We haven't traveled in the same circles...

since we were in
law school together.

Seems to me we were friends then.

People and water-
They both seek their own level.

What is the favor, Jarrod?

Phil, I want you
to consider...

just for
the sake of argument...

the possibility that Liberty might have
been telling the truth yesterday.

I figured you were bluffing when you said
you didn't need her to win your case.

She said she was
a good shot.

Yeah, well,
you saw how good.

Good enough to be part
of the act at one time.

Then how do you explain
what happened yesterday?

Nervousness, cold feet...

or possibly the expert way
you drove at her.

At any rate, she was at
the scene of the crime...

and I'm convinced she had a reason
for wanting Ambrose dead.

Speculation.

- There's no way to prove that.
- But there is.

We can compare the death b*llet
with a b*llet fired from Heath's g*n.

- How? The b*llet was never removed.
- Why not?

Well, Heath was found standing
over a dead man with a g*n in his hand.

He confessed to the k*lling.
There was no need to mutilate the body.

Phil, I want to see
those b*ll*ts.

I want you to agree to an order
of exhumation.

- That's the favor.
- He's buried in the churchyard.

- That's consecrated ground.
- I know that, but there's legal precedent.

It was ordered in San Francisco
three months ago.

But this is not
San Francisco!

Here in Stockton, the dead have
a right to sleep undisturbed!

What's more important, Phil? Respect
for the dead or justice for the living?

I'm a public official.

Well, that's very important to me.
I worked very hard for a very long time.

May I ask what that
has to do with it?

Well, I wouldn't expect a successful,
big-city lawyer to understand.

I'm only interested in justice.
Equal justice!

What is it you resent, Phil?

The fact that I didn't have to work
as hard for success as you did?

- Don't be ridiculous.
- Then why are you out to get Heath?

Why do you refuse to even consider
the possibility that he may be innocent?

Because he is guilty!

And none of your courtroom magic
can cheat justice!

You know something?

You're infected-

infected with the same blind,
rich-man/poor-man prejudice...

that's spreading all through
this town.

Or are you
the source of it?

Get out of here. Go on.

Get out.

Sorry, boys.

You can go ahead home, Fred.

And let you rob a grave?
I can't do that.

- We've got permission.
- Not from Archer.

- You went to the judge?
- We figure that b*llet can clear Heath.

Or put a rope around his neck.

I didn't expect
this kind of cooperation, Phil.

I want to thank you.

You're risking everything,
Barkley.

Your reputation, your career
and your brother's life.

Libby, what are you
doing here?

Mr. Archer said there may be
a way I could help you.

Well, that isn't quite correct.

I wanted you here while we
conducted this experiment.

You see, Mr. Barkley has a theory
that it was you who k*lled your husband.

- That's a lie. She couldn't have.
- I wish I had.

I wish it had been me
instead of Heath.

- You leave her out of this.
- I'm afraid I can't do that, Heath.

You see, b*ll*ts from the same g*n
have identical markings and weight.

Now, we're going to compare
the death b*llet-

the one on that scale there-
with a b*llet from Heath's g*n.

This is your g*n, isn't it?

That's right.

Here you are, Phil.

Now, this scale is from
the assay department of a bank.

It's completely accurate.

I was so sure.
I was so very sure.

I had to k*ll him.

I had to.

I was afraid for Heath.

Ambrose would have k*lled him.

It would have been my fault.
All my fault!

You didn't have to k*ll him
to prevent that.

You're an expert shot, Liberty...

despite that deceptive
exhibition you put on here.

You could have placed this
b*llet anywhere you wanted.

You wanted him dead.

She won't sh**t me.

Libby?

Libby?

- I'll get a doctor.
- No.

Don't try to talk.

I have to talk.
I have to make you understand.

I never wanted
to hurt you, Heath.

I-I never thought
you'd go to trial.

I thought the Barkleys
were too important.

Libby, there's no need
to explain.

Help me, Heath.

Make them understand.

I had to k*ll him.

You-You saw how he was...

how he treated me.

How- How else
could I escape?

H-How else could I marry you?

Libby-

Where are all the bright lights
Papa promised?

Where, Papa?

I- I came close, Papa.

So close.

Our dream almost-

almost came true.

Just... that far away.

Libby?

Libby.

Libby.

Libby.

I don't like to see you
punish yourself this way.

They're both dead.

She k*lled Ambrose
because of me.

No, she k*lled him because
she was too weak at 16...

to live your kind of life...

and too weak at 25
to live with her own mistakes.

I keep remembering
when we were kids...

all the things she wanted.

And all her life,
they were just out of reach...

just that far away.

She wanted the wrong things.

And she could have had
so much.

So very much.

I've come to apologize.
Well, you were right about me.

It was a personal resentment
of you-

of your success
and your way with people.

Now, if either of you
want further satisfaction...

we can go out
behind the barn.

Well, what do you think, Heath?
Down by Snyder's Creek?

Well, since there isn't
going to be any trial tomorrow...

we can see if the fish
are biting.

- After everything that happened?
- If it'll make you feel any better, Phil...

you can dig the worms.