A Kind of Murder Page #2

time I will go and see someone.

I know I've said it so many

times, but believe me, Walter.

- I will go and see someone.

- Calm down.

- I promise I will.

- Sure. Go right ahead.

For god's sakes, Clara,

don't being so melodramatic.

Leave me alone!

All right.

All right. I will.

You're on your own!

House is all yours tonight.

Are you following this story?

Not closely.

I'd say he looks like

a man who murdered his wife.

That's ridiculous.

You can't tell that

just by looking at someone.

Well, I'd say he did it.

I've worked it out.

He followed her bus,

lured her away from the stop,

killed her.

Simple as that.

Turned around and headed home.

Left no clues.

Seems he has a great alibi.

He's real smart.

Clara!

Clara!

Clara!

Oh, for god's sake.

Open the door. Clara!

Oh god no, no, no!

Clara! Clara!

Clara!

Clara. Come on, Clara.

Clara, wake up.

We'll pump her out.

We should know in 48 hours.

Walter?

Who was she seeing?

What?

Her analyst, what's his name?

I'm sorry.

I couldn't persuade her

to see anyone.

I tried.

You should have tried harder.

Dr. Palmer,

please dial the operator.

She took every god damn

pill in the house.

I knew she was going to.

We'd had another fight.

I stood my ground this time.

I told her. I've f***ing had it.

I didn't sign up for this.

But at that moment I think

I really wanted her to.

No, Walter,

you're not thinking straight.

Hi there.

Remember me?

Sure. Of course. Hi.

Good to see you again. Come in.

Some orchids. Lots of them.

To thank Mrs. Stackhouse

for the party.

She'll love them. Thanks.

So, what brings you up here?

Oh, you know, I like to get

out of the city on the weekend

and just drive.

Me and my car found ourselves

driving north, so...

Here I am.

So your wife is at work?

I remember you saying

that she worked on Saturdays.

Yeah, it's her busiest day.

She sells houses.

And I build them.

So this is your design?

How long have you lived here?

We move in a year

after we got married.

Yeah.

How long ago was that?

Four year ago now.

Yeah.

Kids?

No. Not yet.

I'm moving soon.

Oh?

Still the village,

but a...

Little place of my own.

Time to grow up.

It's not all

it's cracked up to be.

No, honestly.

I need to slow down.

Packed a hell of a lot

in these past five years.

You're making me jealous.

Oh no. I'm not so sure.

Grass is always greener.

Well...

I'd better get going.

What'll you be doing tonight?

Singing...

At a little club

off Macdougal...

Called "Molly's."

You should come along sometime.

I'm there almost every night.

Maybe one day I will.

It was nice to see you.

You too.

I'll take a rye.

Rye. Double. Neat.

Don't ever leave me.

Promise?

Who did you tell?

Don't worry.

Everyone thinks

you had a bad flu.

Kind of a pneumonia.

Thank you.

I knew

it's what you'd want, kits.

The orchids downstairs,

who brought them?

Was it Betty?

I completely forgot. Martha's

friend, Ellie, brought them.

To thank you for the party.

- How long did she stay?

- I don't know. Not very long.

Long enough to f*** her?

Oh, Clara.

I was right, wasn't I?

- Admit it.

- I can't...

I can't have this

conversation right now.

I'm going out.

I will be back.

I promise.

But this can't go on.

This has to end.

Are you looking

for anything in particular?

Yeah. I'm looking for a book

called "the living city"

by frank Lloyd Wright.

You happen to have it in stock?

I'm sure I don't.

As I thought, I don't have it.

I do have a copy

of Lloyd Wright's

"disappearing city."

I've got that.

In fact,

I have a 1932 first edition.

I could try to find it.

Do you want me

to order it for you?

Uh, yes. I would, thanks.

Just fill in

your name and address.

Do you own this bookstore?

Yes.

What is it to you?

I heard your wife died recently.

She was murdered.

Sorry.

Have they found her killer?

No.

Well...

I hope they find

the man who's guilty.

So do I.

Thank you for your concern.

I'll be in touch

if I find that book.

You shouldn't be up this late.

Neither should you.

No doubt you had a couple

of scotches with Jon?

Yeah. That's exactly what I did.

We needed to let off some steam.

Where did you go?

Some dive.

I don't remember the name.

I followed you from the office.

I saw you.

With your whore.

Ellie Briess.

- I knew all along.

- No. You didn't.

There's nothing to know.

Don't think there's a future

in it because there isn't.

I'm going to divorce you, Clara.

I'm calling our lawyers.

Do what you want.

It's your life.

If you divorce me,

then I will kill myself.

And everyone will know

it's your fault.

And everyone

will blame you, Walter.

There will be blood

on your hands.

Mr. Stackhouse.

I thought you were

with Mrs. Stackhouse

seeing her off

at the bus station.

What are you talking about?

A telegram.

Her mother.

It seemed

very serious this time.

She was aiming to catch

the 6.30 up to Saratoga.

Watch it, mister.

Clara!

Why didn't you

tell me you're going away?

Why should I make it

easier for you?

It seems my mother

is really dying this time.

So, you get to spend another

48 hours with Ellie Briess.

Think that will make you happy?

You don't look at all happy.

Excuse me. How much time

do we have at this stop?

Fifteen minutes.

So they say.

Oh, Mr. Stackhouse.

I just received

a call from the hospital.

To say that

Mrs. Stackhouse's mother

died during the night.

Oh, god.

Oh, no.

Thanks Claudia. I'll call

Mrs. Stackhouse back right away.

But she isn't there.

She never arrived.

- No. That's impossible.

- Oh, dear.

Do you have the number of?

Who did you speak to?

- You sure you got this right?

- I didn't make a mistake.

I swear.

Stackhouse residence.

Is this Walter Stackhouse?

Yes.

My name is detective Miller,

Saratoga Springs

police department.

I'm afraid we have something

we need to talk to you about.

You okay, Mr. Stackhouse?

Yeah.

I'm afraid I still need to go

through a few things with you.

Can you do this now?

Sure.

I think so.

I'll be fine.

What do you think happened?

We're not sure, sir. She may

have taken her own life, she...

She may

have been pushed, of course.

How do you do? I'm detective

Lawrence Corby, homicide.

Uh, Walter Stackhouse.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

I'll take over this now.

Just leave your notes.

When was the last time

you saw your wife?

Yesterday, at home.

But I spoke to her

on the phone...

From my office

before she caught the bus.

Do you have reason to believe

your wife would commit suicide?

Well, she's tried before,

I'm afraid to say.

But I just can't imagine

Clara would jump off a bridge.

Well.

I've seen the bridge.

It's not likely

that she slipped and fell.

Well, I hope someone's going

to make some investigations.

Don't worry, I will,

Mr. Stackhouse.

When you left work,

after speaking to your wife,

did you go straight home?

Yes.

Well, actually, no.

Actually, I was trying

to reach a friend.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes