04x09 - m*rder Me Twice

[bunniefuu]

You are
very sleepy.

You can't seem to
hold your eyes open.

You're beginning
to drift.

You're drifting.
You're sound asleep.

Can you hear me?

Yes.

Say, "Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen. "

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

"Thank you
for tuning in. "

Thank you
for tuning in.

You are now going
back in time.

Far back.

Back years
and years ago.

You're drifting back
through the years.

Back, back, back.

When you speak next,
you will be years old.

Forty?

I'm sorry,
I mean four.

That's better.

I have a little shadow that
goes in and out with me.

And what can be
the use of him?

Mommy, why do I cast
such a large shadow?

I never liked the way
she answered that question.

What games
did you play?

I didn't play much.

I spent most of my time
watching television.

Television?
When you were four?

Yes.

I was a very
precocious child.

What did you see
on television?

Stories.

Mostly stories
like this one.

Someone told me they use
it in dentistry these days.

Don't know what it's called. Oh,
well, it's a lot of bunkum anyway.

Oh, now, Mr. Pryor,
we've come a long way

from the days when hypnosis was regarded
as a form of magic or witchcraft.

But it's surprising how many
misconceptions and fears remain.

Even among my students, in
my class in parapsychology.

When I call for volunteer subjects,
I get the oddest reactions.

And the fact is, you can't
hypnotize a person against his will.

Could you hypnotize me
right now?

Would you like me to?

No, I wouldn't.

You see what I mean
about fears.

How about you, Lucy?
Are you afraid, too?

I... I think
Adele's right.

I've managed to keep this
husband of mine fooled so far,

so why take the risk
of giving myself away?

What makes you think
you have him fooled?

Well, I don't know.
Have I, darling?

Maybe you ought to
let Miles hypnotize you

and we'll all find out.

Shall I?

The risk is all yours,
my dear Mrs. Pryor.

All right. Wonderful!
Wonderful, darling.

I'm willing to chance it
if Will is.

Well, how do
we start?

Well, if you're serious,

let's get you in a nice,
comfortable chair near a light.

Yes, this one
will do.

Darling, I think you're
very brave to do this.

I don't know
about this.

Oh, there's nothing
to worry about.

All I want is
your concentration.

There.

Oh, this is going
to be wonderful.

Comfortable?

Yes.

Relaxed?

Completely.

Good. Now...

I want you to
concentrate on this light.

Just stare at it.

That's right.

Just the light.

It's soft and steady.

And it burns,
warm and glowing.

Softly, moving now.

Slowly, slowly.

Slowly.
Floating in space.

Free of this room
as now you are free.

Free,
you and the light

and the sound
of my voice.

Can you hear my voice?

Yes.

Good.

We're alone now,
you and I.

And whatever I ask you,
you must answer truthfully.

Will you do that?

Yes.

You mean
she's hypnotized already?

I can't believe it.

Speak to her.

Lucy. Lucy.

Lucy.

She doesn't hear you
or see you.

Lucy, wake up.

I'm afraid she doesn't
feel your touch either.

Let's go back in time.

Way back,
through the years.

Back to when
you were a child.

Nine years old.

You're nine years old now.

What school
do you attend?

Miss Ewing's classes.

And what are
you studying there?

Oh!

Reading, writing,
arithmetic and drawing.

And what do you want to do
when you grow up?

Hmm...

Marry.

Let's come back
to the present.

Back through the years.

Five years,
, years.

You're grown-up now,
and you are married.

You've been married
for five years.

And your name
is Mrs. Lucy Pryor.

My name is Dora.

What is your full name?

Dora Evans,

and it please thee, sir.

What on earth
is she talking about?

Where do you live, Dora?

I abide at Number ,

King's Street,
Philadelphia.

And what year is this?

In the year of
our blessed Lord, .

...
Quiet.

Dora Evans,

you live in Philadelphia,
and this is .

Tell me, are you married?
Do you have a husband?

I...

I beg of thee, sir, pray,
do not make me tell.

Very well.

We'll talk about
something else.

Who is the president
of the United States?

The honorable
Benjamin Pierce.

Have you ever met him
or seen him?

Oh, indeed.

He was here
but a short while ago,

addressing a convocation

of the Society of Friends
on the question of sl*very.

What do you like to do?

You like to sew, you like
to work in your garden?

Oh, I have
a lovely garden

which doth
pleasure me greatly.

Would you like to
show me your garden?

My garden?

Down there,
by the elder trees.

And my nasturtiums
and ferns.

And over there,
the old mill wheel turns.

Hmm.

And here are
my rose arbor.

My rose arbor.

What about
the rose arbor?

It was there
I made my decision.

I took me stealthy
to the house

and entered the parlor,

where sat
my good husband.

He did not
see me enter.

I came up behind him
and quickly...

No!
Lucy!

Will!

I've never seen
anyone dead before.

When I came out
of the hypnosis

And saw Will
lying there...

And you have no recollection
of the k*lling whatsoever?

No, they told me later.

The Thompsons and that
dreadful man, Miles Farnham.

One can't commit an act
contrary to one's own nature.

Someone you love,
it's not possible.

I still can't
believe he's dead.

Believe me, I'm sorry to put
you through this, Mrs. Pryor.

But try to understand,
it is necessary.

There has to be
a coroner's inquest,

and I must have
the facts correct.

Yes, I understand.

You say you became
this Dora Evans?

Yes, I was wearing
strange clothes.

I remember I had large
hands and there was hate.

I felt this hate in her
and I couldn't resist.

I was drawn to her,
dreading something,

something she wanted,
something she willed me to do.

I think that's
enough for now.

Yes.

Why don't you go along home and
try to get some rest, Mrs. Pryor.

I'll let you know when the coroner's
inquest is going to take place.

Oh, it's this way.

Thank you
for your cooperation.

Well, we've had some odd ones,
but this...

All right, if you'll
come in now, please.

Mr. Farnham,
Mr. Sherman.

Farnham.
How do you do?

Just there,
if you will, Mr. Farnham.

Cigarette?

Thank you.

Got some news this morning
I think might interest you.

I put through a call to the
Philadelphia Historical Society.

It seems there actually was
a Dora Evans.

Born September nd, .
Married, no children.

On June th, ,

Dora Evans stabbed her husband
with a pair of pruning shears.

Yes, she k*lled him.

Is it possible
that this dead woman,

Dora Evans,
could influence the living?

Could she actually compel
Mrs. Pryor to k*ll her husband?

Obviously, she did.

Unless, of course, you think
Mrs. Pryor m*rder*d her husband.

It's your suggestion,
not mine.

Well, I'm just trying to find out
what all this questioning is about.

Your case, Mr. Burke, if there is
such a case, isn't against Lucy Pryor.

I'm afraid, if anyone's to blame
for his death, it's Dora Evans.

And you can't very well
try her, now, can you?

Well, as she's been dead
over years,

I'm inclined
to agree with you.

Yes.

Well, if there's
nothing else?

Yes, thank you for
your time, Mr. Farnham.

My secretary did get
your home address

and phone number,
didn't he? Yes, he did.

And if I can help,
please call up.

I will let you know when the
coroner's inquest will take place.

Goodbye.
Bye.

What do you
make of it?

It's curious.

Of course, there's absolutely
no case against her.

No jury in the world
would convict her.

No, of course
they wouldn't.

A Professor Farnham
to see you, ma'am.

Oh? Ask him
to come in, Alma.

Hello, Mrs. Pryor.
Did I disturb you?

I hope not.

But I had a sudden impulse to
look in and see how you were.

Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

Oh, would you mind if I
have a drink? Thank you.

You know, I had a talk with that
Burke fellow today after you left.

And a fascinating thing
came up.

Did he tell you?
Tell me what?

About Dora Evans.
She actually existed.

Oh, a long time ago.

And it seems that
she k*lled her husband.

With, of all things,
a pair of pruning shears.

That's rather poor taste at a
time like this, don't you think?

You mean you didn't
know about it?

Professor Farnham, unless there is
some reason for this conversation...

My dear Mrs. Pryor, I have
decided to cut myself in.

Cut yourself in.
On what?

Let's not pretend
anymore, Mrs. Pryor.

You need me.
I beg your...

Please don't argue
with me, Mrs. Pryor.

I'm the hypnotist, remember?
It's my profession.

Now, a little judicious searching
through any good library,

I'm sure most anyone could've
come up with a Dora Evans.

Ah, but so few would
conceive the brilliance

of using it as a peg
on which to hang a m*rder.

That's a monstrous
accusation.

But it would be
perfect, wouldn't it?

I'm the one person
who can uphold your story.

With my sworn
statement,

this would never get beyond
the coroner's inquest.

Without it,
my dear Mrs. Pryor,

I'm afraid you might find yourself
in one of those sordid tabloid trials.

Alma! Alma!

Professor Farnham
is leaving.

Now get out of my house.

Get out of my house.

All right, please.

This Coroner's Board of Hennepin
County is now in session.

The clerk will
enter the opening data.

Convening board
is now in session

to determine death, cause and
circumstance of said Will Pryor.

k*lled October th, , at
his residence in Glan Mallow Hill.

Doctor Malcolm Edderberry,
examining physician.

Death certificate
signed : am.

morning of
October th, .

Mr. Farnham, this is key
testimony you're giving here,

since we're dealing in
a somewhat mystical area,

and you being an accredited...
What is this here?

Meta...
Metaphysician.

Thank you.
Metaphysician.

Now, this transference,
as you refer to it,

this exchange of body and
spirit with Dora Evans,

is that a possibility?

Not only a possibility,
gentlemen, a fact.

I can cite
a dozen other instances

such as the one that
Mrs. Pryor went through.

It was a transitive exchange
with a person long deceased.

Glen, if you don't mind, I'd
like to question the witness.

Well, that's
your prerogative.

Mr. Farnham, I'd like you to
tell the Coroner's Board

something about this
vast experience you've had.

Specifically,
the year ,

Nassau County, New York.

I have here
a police report

of an indictment against a Miles
John Farnham in May of that year

on charges of fraud
and malpractice.

It wasn't proven!
I was exonerated.

The whole thing
was a mistake.

I will prove
that Mr. Farnham,

or Professor Farnham as
he likes to call himself,

is not an
accredited hypnotist.

And that Mrs. Lucy Pryor was
not in a state of hypnosis

at the time of the
stabbing of her husband.

That's not true, she was under
hypnosis. I verified that.

We have only
your word.

Now, I submit
these police reports

on the character
of this man's word.

I disacknowledge his
claims of professionalism,

and I ask that this case

be brought before People's
Court for grand jury trial.

I object
to his inference.

What does he mean
I'm not accredited?

It's an inexact science.

We don't carry graduation
diplomas around in our hip pockets.

This lady was
under hypnosis.

If you don't believe me,
if anyone has any doubts,

with Mrs. Pryor's permission, I'll
prove it to you right here and now.

Well, I hardly think
that Mrs. Pryor...

No, I don't mind,
Mr. Garson.

Where do you want me,
Professor?

In that chair, please.

Would you
raise your veil?

May I please have
complete silence.

Now, you remember the light
in the living room?

Yes.

I want you to
concentrate on this light.

Soft, steady light.

Warm and glowing.
Floating in space.

Free in this room.

Free,
as you are free.

You and the light
and the sound of my voice.

Can you hear my voice?

Yes.

You're going back
in time now.

Years are slipping by.

What is your name?

My name is Dora Evans.

And it please thee, sir.

My garden is there
by the elder trees.

And just here
is my rose arbor.

It was there
I made my decision.

I took me stealthy
to the house.

I submit this lady
is in deep hypnosis.

You can have her examined
by any doctor

you may choose
to verify this.

I guarantee, she is not
accountable for any act

she performs
in this condition.

She is under the direct control
of the spirit of Dora Evans.

The spirit of a woman
dead for over years.

I came up behind him
and...

Quickly! Hurry up!

Well, end of a pretty good
case against Mrs. Lucy Pryor.

Come on, darling,
just try not to think.

We'll get you home
and into bed right away.

George, get the car, will you?
All right.

Darling, sit there quietly.
I'll only be a moment.

Oh, Mr. Burke, would you
keep an eye on her?

I'm going across the street
and get some smelling salts.

Certainly.
Thank you.

May I have
a drink of water?

Thank you.

Do you have
a cigarette?

Thanks.

I needed this.

Lucy, the car
is downstairs, dear.

Mrs. Pryor.

There's no one
anywhere near us.

I've no
recording devices,

no one can ever verify
what you say at this moment.

You're free now.

Free of me
and the courts.

So just to satisfy
my curiosity,

did you plan
the whole thing?

Wouldst not thee
like to know?

What do you
think of this?

He regressed me and then
only brought me halfway back.

I...

Good heavens,
everyone's asleep.

That last commercial
must have hypnotized them.

It put the entire
audience under.

That didn't do any good.

Since I can't wake you up,

I can only leave you with
this post-hypnotic suggestion.

Next week
when you awaken,

you will feel compelled
to tune in again

when we promise to
bring you another story

and three less
soporific commercials.

Good night.