Murder Is Easy Page #8

had done it.

Why, Bridget,

what's the matter?

Nothing, I'm fine.

Oh, dear,

I've upset you.

What about a nice walk?

Do us both good.

A walk?

Yes, Luke won't be finished

for a while yet.

That should give me

just enough time.

Lord Easterfield looks guilty,

all right.

But then, perhaps that's

precisely what someone is after,

someone who'll find it

profitable

to get Lord Easterfield

out of the way,

even to see him dead.

If there were such a person,

why would they kill

all those people?

Why not just kill

Easterfield?

Too risky.

Especially if the person

were someone

close to Lord Easterfield.

Oh.

Well, then,

perhaps we should, uh...

question Miss Bridget Conway.

I'm sure she'll come up

with some answers for us.

No!

You know,

Miss Waynflete,

you may be

on to something

about Gordon

and the murders.

For some of them must have taken

some quite brilliant planning,

to say nothing of nerve.

Yes, you do see.

Take Amy, for example.

She certainly wouldn't

have let Gordon

put a needle in her arm.

Oh, but there are

other ways

to kill a person

with heroin.

I read up on it.

Afterwards.

Did you?

How very thorough of you.

And, Bridget...

surely it can't have been

a simple matter

to induce blood poisoning

in Dr. Humbleby.

Of course, Gordon could have

learned of such things

from his visit

to the laboratory.

What about Lydia Horton?

She died long before Gordon

went to that laboratory.

Are we to believe

that he really knew

how to poison

those grapes himself?

What grapes?

Why, the grapes he sent

from his hothouse.

You took them

to Lydia yourself,

didn't you, Bridget?

Yes, so I did.

Wasn't aware you knew that,

Miss Waynflete.

You must tell me

what else you know.

[DOORBELL RINGS]

[]

[INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE]

[INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE]

Why so silent,

Miss Waynflete?

I'm waiting

to hear the rest.

I don't know any more.

I don't really know

anything.

It's all just speculation.

Probably quite foolish.

Foolish?

Oh, no, you were

never foolish.

You're quite clever.

In fact, maybe almost

as clever as the killer.

I don't think you realize

what you're saying.

You look foolish enough,

all right.

Proper Miss Waynflete,

in her proper little gloves.

You wear them everywhere,

don't you?

Bridget,

you must stop this.

Why do you walk

through the fields in gloves

O fat white woman

who nobody loves?

[LAUGHS]

Where did I hear that? I can't

remember, but it fits you perfectly,

because nobody does love you,

Miss Waynflete.

Nobody does

and nobody ever will.

Please.

You think Gordon did,

but you're wrong.

You never had him.

You never had anyone

or anything.

Except that cleverness

of yours.

And that cleverness could get

you into trouble.

Couldn't it,

Miss Waynflete?

[BOTH GRUNTING]

Bridget!

Bridget!

Bridget!

Bridget!

You almost made it,

didn't you?

Didn't you?

Or did you already

get Easterfield,

like everybody else?

[LAUGHING]

[SCREAMING]

I say...

What's he doing

to Miss Waynflete?

BRIDGET:

She's admitted everything?

REED:

Admitted it, yes, Miss.

And she wouldn't be

satisfied

till she'd given us

every detail.

Yes, it was awful.

She was so proud

of her cleverness.

I know.

I tried to play on that

to get a confession out of her,

and she was going

to tell me...

just before killing me.

That was to be your final crime,

Gordon, killing me, because...

I was leaving you.

That's why she asked you

to meet her

in the meadow at midday,

I suppose.

You were to be found there

with my body...

And your dagger.

But how on earth did she get

hold of my dagger?

Oh, she stole it

this morning, off the table.

It still had

your fingerprints on it.

Of course.

Her proper little gloves.

Poor Honoria,

those rages of hers.

Do you know, she once killed

her own pet canary,

just 'cause it pecked her.

I simply couldn't feel the same

about her after that.

Then it was you that

broke off the engagement?

BRIDGET:

I told you how tenderhearted he is.

When you reported to me

that story about the canary,

I knew Miss Waynflete

must be lying...

to make Gordon look guilty.

Smart girl. -It's really

just a matter of knowing

a little about

human nature, Luke.

Perhaps that's why

your famous computer

couldn't come up

with the right answer.

No, don't blame the computer.

I didn't program Miss Waynflete

as a suspect.

Oh, don't feel badly

about it, Mr., um, Williams.

No, she even took me in.

Had me convinced

that the Almighty

was wreaking vengeance

on all my enemies.

It isn't altogether

a bad theory.

But what I don't

understand is this:

How did my Rolls

come to be identified

as the car that

bowled over Miss Fullerton?

BRIDGET:

Because I had the Rolls on Derby Day.

That's why I knew

it couldn't be you, Gordon.

And you bashed the fender?

Miss Waynflete knew

Miss Fullerton was

on to her,

so she followed her

to London.

She saw her chance

and pushed Miss Fullerton

under a passing car.

The driver of the car

failed to stop,

so she simply gave

your license number

to a man in the crowd.

But how did she manage

all the other murders?

Some are obvious,

but what about Humbleby,

for example?

Now, when Humbleby went

to visit her,

Miss Waynflete

ran her scissors

into his right hand

and then insisted on

bandaging it.

But first, she infected

the bandage

with discharge

from Wonky Pooh's ear.

Good Lord.

If you'll forgive me.

BRIDGET:

And the others?

She, uh... She killed

Lydia Horton

with garden spray

on the grapes,

little by little.

And then, the night that

Amy came home from London,

Miss Waynflete...

brought her a nice cup of tea,

loaded with heroin.

REED:

Imagine the old witch doing all that

just because his lordship

jilted her so long ago.

All for revenge.

Yes.

Her one master-passion

swallowed up the rest.

Uh, beg your pardon, sir?

Uh, Essay on Man, epistle two.

Oh, yes.

But it is hard to believe

that so much love

could turn

into so much hate.

Is it?

[]

Excuse me.

I must go to Gordon.

I still like your squad car.

We have returned

to the use of the bicycle

in the interest of economy,

environment,

and, if I may say so, sir,

efficient policing.

Gordon's already

hard at work

on his next series

of articles:

"Famous Female Criminals

Throughout the Ages."

He says he's far too busy a man

for marriage, anyway.

Good.

Does that mean

you're going with me?

How could I possibly

go off with a man

who thinks me capable

of murder?

And loves you anyway.

I guess I just couldn't believe

that I could get that lucky.

To have what I want.

To have you.

Too improbable for you?

Well, at least you know

the worst about me.

That ought to count

for something.

Do I?

No more questions?

No more curiosities?

[SIGHS]

All right.

Where did you go

on Derby Day?

I went to see Johnny.

-Johnny? You're kidding.

I thought he was no good,

I thought he jilted you.

He was, he did.

I just wanted to be sure,

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