[Pierre steps forward to meet car pulling up. Car wheel stops on Pierre's foot. Pierre makes inarticulate noises.]

Fitz - [gets out of car, exhales, closes door] Give her a polish, Pierre. Put her to bed. [walks off]

Pierre - [foot still stuck under car tire] Sure.

[Fitz enters manor...]

Fitz - [walks down hallway & into salon] Ah. [Guests clap as he enters. Fitz stops in front of microphone stand, speaks into mic.] Welcome. Welcome to Fitzcairn Manor's annual grouse shoot and executive witch hunt.

[Guests laugh & applaud politely.]

Loxley - [aside, to Drimble] Why are we all laughing? It's not as if it's even funny. It never was funny, and it never WILL be funny.

Drimble - Just enjoy it. With a touch of luck, who knows, we might never ever hear it again.

Fitz - [continuing] Now, ladies and gentlemen, I would especially like to welcome the three men who made all our good fortunes possible. <My beloved partner, Percy Tynebridge-- CUT [offscreen, as camera cuts to Tynebridge] Cloak, Ernest, [hands his cloak to guitar player, continues introductions] And the finest solicitor in the whole of Great Britain, Norbert Drimble. Last but not least, this many-sceptered isle's only honest accountant, Simon Loxley. [Guests laugh politely. Fitz picks up clarinet.]> And may I introduce a special guest for tonight. Joining us on vocals, the apple of my orchard, the fire of my heart, the woman who makes it all worthwhile, my beautiful wife, Juliette. [Guests applaud politely at Juliette stands, joins Fitz. Fitz takes her hand, kisses it.] Mmm.

Juliette - [as Fitz tries to kiss her on the lips] Lipstick. Lipstick. [laughs]

Fitz - Oh, you're so naughty. [kisses her neck]

Juliette - Oh, I do love you.

[The guests wait awkwardly for the lovebirds to finish.]

Fitz - [to band] Right. Two, three, four.

[Band begins playing the lullaby "Fiddle-Dee-Dee".]

Juliette - [singing into mic]

[Fitz starts playing clarinet. Partway through his solo, he fumbles a note, wipes his brow, bows in apology to his audience. He tries to start again, then grabs his throat, groans.]

Juliette - Fitz! [as Fitz collapses] Fitz!

Fitz - [with his dying breath] Juliette! [dies]

Tynebridge - Good God. [looks at Juliette] He's dead.

[Juliette screams. Offscreen, the tinkling of a glass shattering.]
 

[Gravestone reads: HUGH FITZCAIRN / MY ROMEO.]

Juliette - [giving eulogy] As it is for me, it was for my dear, dear Fitz. The heart is everything. When a heart such as his beats, it powers the world. When it stops, it makes us all a little smaller. CUT It gives me some comfort to know that the last thing my dear departed husband heard was my special love song for him. It was a song that brought him great joy, and it is with those words that I lay him to rest. "Fiddle dee dee, Fiddle dee dee. The fly has married the bumblebee. Says the fly, says he, 'Will you marry me and live with me, Sweet bumblebee?'" [sobs] It meant so much to him. [continues to cry]

[DM senses 'buzz', wanders away from funeral in search of source. Loxley dries Juliette's tears with a black handkerchief. Juliette looks at the priest, who motions to the grave diggers to start lowering the coffin into the ground.]

Fitz - [pops out from behind a bush as DM enters, holds up bouquet of white lilies] A dozen lilies? Too gauche?

DM - Not for you.

Fitz - Have a little respect for the dead, laddie.

DM - [play-acting] Oh, it was a lovely funeral.

Fitz - Yes. [looks out at grave-site] Half a dozen people? For a man of my stature, my standing.

<DM - CUT You're a personality, Fitz.> It's the first time in eight hundred years you haven't been broke, and it's made you a complete jackass.

Fitz - I'm a late bloomer. Still, at least you came.

DM - Oh, just to see what you're up to this time.

Fitz - You think I organized this?

DM - A chance to drop in on your own eulogy? I wouldn't put it past you.

Fitz - True. Yes. I might have enjoyed it, had I not been murdered.

DM - Oh, you'll do anything for attention, won't you?

Fitz - Excuse me. May I point out that I died of a heart attack. And Immortals do not die of heart attacks.

DM - Unless they're induced heart attacks.

Fitz - Exactly. And the timing could not have been worse! [throws lilies to DM] CUT Everything I own has been funneled into American stocks. You know, a sort of, uh, "return from the death" fund, if you will.

DM - But -- correct me if I'm wrong -- you're a little behind on your paperwork?

Fitz - Yes. Details, details. Problem is I was murdered before I had time to create a new me. Ipso facto.

DM - [laughs loudly] You're broke!

Fitz - Well, if you want to be crass about it, yes. All my assets might as well be buried with that coffin.

DM - What do you want me to do about it?

Fitz - Find the person that murdered me.

DM - [scoffs] Fitz, I am not a cop. And besides, it's only money.

Fitz - No, Mac. Mac. It's much more.

DM - Oh, is it?

Juliette - [offscreen] Duncan. [DM pushes Fitz back into hiding. Juliette enters greenhouse.] Duncan? [goes to him] Are you all right?

DM - [playing the distraught friend] Oh, I just needed a moment with my thoughts.

Juliette - Fitz used to love to spend time in here. If you close your eyes, it's almost as if he's still here.

DM - I know what you mean.

Juliette - He meant a great deal to you, didn't he?

DM - [sighs] You'll never know. <[as she turns to leave] Juliette. [holds out lilies to her] Just a little token of my affection.

Juliette - Thank you, Duncan. Thank you. [takes lilies, kisses his cheek,> CUT leaves]

Fitz - [as DM joins him on planter box] God, she's beautiful.

DM - For a grieving widow.

Fitz - [watching her walk away from the greenhouse] Yes. The way she walks in that dress. Taut muscles, passion simmering below the surface like a volcano about to erupt. She's a lioness in heat, MacLeod.

DM - Mmm. She's in mourning. <And you're dead.

Fitz - You wouldn't.

DM - Oh, no, no.> CUT

Fitz - Look, if you won't get involved for my sake, then do it for the sake of that good woman.

DM - What?!

Fitz - I fear for her safety.

DM - Fitz, you're the one with the enemies, not her.

Fitz - She dies, the money goes to my partners. You want to leave her at the mercy of the bastard that killed me? [DM sighs.] I was going to tell her everything, take her to America with me. We really love each other, Mac. You've got to find the person that murdered me, and you've got to find him fast. Otherwise the next funeral you go to will be hers. And it will be on your head.

DM - Oh, no, you don't. <[jumps down from planter box] Whoa. Get down, {Fitz}.> CUT

Fitz - She dies a lot more permanently than I do. ¹ CUT

CUT

Drimble - As his personal solicitor, I knew everything, EVERYTHING concerning his legal matters.

Juliette - Apparently not, Norbert. [turns to Loxley] And I gather this comes as something of a surprise to you too, Simon.

Loxley - And what are you suggesting?

DM - I believe she's suggesting that if you'd been attending to business, then you would have been aware that I'd been made sole executor of Mr. Fitzcairn's estate.

Juliette - Exactly.

DM - Precisely. I'm afraid I can't read the will until two days after the funeral.

Tynebridge - Be serious!

Loxley - We are busy men.

DM - Apparently. [senses 'buzz']

Loxley - You cannot expect us to wait around for two days on a whim of yours.

[DM looks around, spots painting with a pair of human eyes looking out through the eye-holes of the painting.]

Tynebridge - Ridiculous. I don't have to put up with this. [stands]

Loxley - Nor I. [stands, to Tynebridge] Uh, can I get a lift back to the city with you?

DM - I'm afraid you haven't, uh, understood me, gentlemen. Maybe I haven't made myself clear. Nobody has to put up with anything. It's just that, uh, in absence of any Fitzcairns-by-blood, it makes you four the primary beneficiaries of the will. But a codicil states that only those present at the reading will be beneficiaries of the estate.

Tynebridge - Well, perhaps I've over-reacted.

Drimble - Quite right.

Tynebridge - After all, with this dreadful weather, it's hardly a good time to be on the road.

[Cut to exterior shot of manor: birds chirping, sun shining. Mendelssohn's "Spring Song" plays in the background.]

DM - [wanders over to portrait] Extraordinary. How lifelike. The eyes seem to follow you everywhere you go. [The four give him matching looks. DM raises his arms expansively.] Amazing paintings. [as they turn to look around, pokes his fingers through the portrait's eye-holes]

Fitz - [offscreen, behind portrait] Ow. Ow.

[The four turn back around in their seats to look at DM.]

DM - [grabs his side, groans] Oh! The artist's genius actually pains me. Oh! I say it again. Oh, I must find more of them. Excuse me, gentlemen. [leaves library]

Juliette - [to Loxley] Loxley!

[DM closes library door, goes to Fitz, who is swinging wall clock back down to cover portrait eye-holes in wall.]

Fitz - What the devil did you do that for?

DM - You want me to help, then don't interfere.

Fitz - We're a team. A team, laddie.

DM - Yeah, some team. Now that they think that I've got the "real" will, how long do you think before one of them wants to kill me?

Fitz - You're right. Damn risky business, this.

DM - [sarcastic] Oh, thanks for your concern.

Juliette - [pokes her head out of library] Duncan? [Fitz hides behind a curtain.] Duncan?

DM - Mm?

Juliette - Did I hear you talking to someone?

DM - Uh, no, just myself.

Juliette - I could have sworn I heard Fitz's voice.

DM - Oh. I sometimes think I hear it myself.

Juliette - We must be imagining things.

DM - It comes from our grief.

Juliette - Yes. I'm so cold and empty inside. If only I knew what was in the will, I'm sure it would take the sting away a bit.

DM - I'm sorry. I wish I could help.

Juliette - My heart is broken. Can you feel it, Duncan? [grabs his hand, holds it against her breast]

DM - Uh... it doesn't feel broken.

[Behind the curtain, Fitz clears his throat.]

Juliette - That noise.

DM - What noise?

Juliette - I didn't hear a voice?

DM - Must have been me.

Juliette - Oh. Right. You were going to tell me about the will.

DM - Uh, no, I wasn't.

Juliette - Is there something wrong with it?

DM - The will?

Juliette - The breast.

DM - Oh, no. No, no. It's-- It's fine.

[Behind the curtain, Fitz mouths the word 'fine'.]

Juliette - Fine? Fitzy said that they were extraordinary.

DM - Well, they -- they are, but, you know, um -- Juliette, I'm sorry. I--I can't help you with the will.

Juliette - Duncan, I would have thought that you of all people would have understood my needs. Really. [goes back into library, sobbing]

[DM turns back to Fitz, clears his throat.]

Fitz - "Fine"?

DM - Mm.

Fitz - "Fine" is a well-kept motorcar, a good wine, decent china. But "fine" is hardly a way to compliment the perfect breast.

DM - Would you try and keep your attention to the matter at hand?

Fitz - Yes, *I* certainly was. [pours himself a glass of brandy]

DM - What's that? No. Fitzcairn. [grabs glass away from him]

Fitz - Listen. I've got it. It's definitely Drimble. He dragged his feet drawing up the papers I needed. [pours another glass] Yes. Now there's a suspicious character for you.

DM - He's no more suspicious than anybody else. And nothing points to him. [takes glass away from him]

Fitz - Exactly. Which is why we need to set a trap. [pours another glass]

DM - A trap?

Fitz - Yes. You have got to rearrange the grouse shoot.

DM - Are you insane? Give them all guns?

Fitz - It's brilliant. Give them all guns, and the killer is bound to shoot YOU.

DM - [takes glass from him, sets it on sideboard with the others] Oh, yeah, that is brilliant.

Fitz - [laughs, pours another glass] Yes. I thought so, too. CUT <[holds out glass to DM] You'll need this.>

[Sun shines down on the four men and Juliette leading hunting party across the grounds. Servants follow with leashed dogs and extra guns, while several others trail behind carrying lunch baskets.]

DM - I don't think this weather will hold. I feel a storm coming.

Drimble - At least.

Loxley - Tell me, Juliette. Is this little hunt your idea?

Juliette - Me? No. You know I deplore guns.

[Duck quacks as fog rolls in. Everyone starts shooting into the air. DM pretends to shoot while looking around at the others. Duck flies away. The others all keep shooting into the fog.]

Man - [in background] Send the dogs after it.

[They lower their guns in defeat.]

Loxley - Damn.

[Juliette gasps as Drimble collapses.]

Man - Oh, Drimble's down.

Tynebridge - I say, is he all right?

Loxley - Of course he's not, you bloody idiot. He's been shot.

DM - [rolls Drimble over, examines him] He's dead.

[Juliette screams.]

CUT

Loxley - Are you suggesting that one of us is a murderer?

Tynebridge - Yes, Sherlock, that's exactly what he's saying.

Juliette - Oh! Then was my poor Fitzy murdered, too?

CUT

DM - Well, two deaths in two days is more coincidence than I care for.

Loxley - Well, I don't mind telling you that I'm getting a little on edge as well.

DM - Then why don't you find Pierre?

Juliette - Pierre? [scoffs] You don't think Pierre did it? Ha! I can't possibly believe that. Ah, no, no, no, no, no.

[Marie enters with tray of glasses.]

DM - What I was going to suggest was that Pierre go down to the village and fetch the local constabulary.

Juliette - Oh, yes. Ah. That's what I thought you meant.

DM - [as Pierre enters library] Oh, the very man. [Pierre hobbles forward, his foot in a cast.] Maybe not.

Marie - [as Pierre opens his mouth to announce] Dinner will be served in half an hour.

Pierre - Marie, it's my foot that is broken, not my mouth. [makes announcement] Dinner will be served in half an hour. Roast grouse.

[Maries passes wine glasses around.]

Juliette - [sobs] Poor Fitzy. Grouse was his favorite, you know. Oh, how his face would light up when he'd tear their little drumsticks off. How I miss that silly, sweet little man. [sobs]

[Marie shoves last glass from tray into her hand, storms out. CUT Pierre bows to group, follows her. DM finishes writing 'DRIMBLE' on list in notebook: FITZCAIRN / LOCKLEY / TYNEBRIDGE / JULIETTE / DRIMBLE, then crosses out 'DRIMBLE' and 'FITZCAIRN'.]

DM - Hmm. Would you excuse me for a moment?

Juliette - Where are you going, Duncan?

DM - I'm going to see about the port. [leaves library] CUT

<DM - [enters] Hello. [re: storm] Oh, nasty weather. Marie, right? Can I call you Marie?

Marie - Yes.> CUT

DM - [clears his throat] Marie, I-- I couldn't help noticing the look that you gave Juliette.

Marie - What look?

DM - You can talk to me.

Marie - Please, monsieur, it would get me fired.

DM - Fitzcairn was my closest friend. Any confidence will be held in the strictest privacy, naturally.

Marie - No offense, but if you were that close, then you would already know.

DM - Oh, it's that kind of confidence.

Marie - Monsieur Fitzy never loved that woman.

DM - Yes, well, he did get around.

Marie - He loved me, monsieur.

DM - Oh, of course. Yes. I'm sure he did. But how can you be certain?

Marie - Because I'm carrying his child. We were more than just lovers.

[Brahms' Lullaby plays in background.]

DM - Are you sure it's Fitzcairn's child?

Marie - What are you saying? Do you think I would love somebody else?

DM - Oh, no, I was just suggesting that--

Marie - You think I would give this body, this temple, to another?

DM - It's just that, uh, Fitzcairn never talked to me about a family.

Marie - You think what? The butcher? The baker?

DM - The baker? [reaches for his notebook] I didn't know he HAD a baker.

Marie - The chauffeur?

DM - [shocked disbelief] No.

Marie - Mr. Tynebridge? But only once.

DM - Only once. Tynebridge. [writes in notebook] Tynebridge.

Marie - You make me sick -- all of you. [grabs chopping knife] Get out. [brandishes knife at DM] Stay out of my kitchen.

DM - Yes. Absolutely. Yes. Fine. Yes. I just have one--

Marie - Get out!

DM - Okay. [leaves]

[Marie hurries down hallway, jumping at shadows, reaches for light switch on wall, turns on wall sconces. DM approaches behind her, senses 'buzz'. Marie turns, sees him, gasps.]

DM - Are you all right?

Marie - Did you see that?

DM - See what?

Marie - N-Nothing. I saw absolutely nothing. [scurries away] ⁴

Fitz - [offscreen] Psst. [DM looks around.] Psst. [DM looks inside empty suit of armor's helmet.] Psst. Over here. [DM walks down hall to suit of armor Fitz is hiding in.] Did you see Marie?

DM - Oh, yeah.

Fitz - Did she see anything, say anything?

DM - Well, for starters, she says she's carrying your baby. [raises visor on Fitz's helmet]

[Brahms' Lullaby plays in background.]

Fitz - [thrilled] Really?

DM - Mm-hmm.

Fitz - Is she sure?

DM - Oh, quite.

Fitz - [rhapsodic] Oh! Now that's news worth dying for. Just imagine it, Mac... a bonny lassie or a wee laddie bouncing on my knee.

DM - Yeah. Watching them take their first steps.

Fitz - Yeah. Riding their first bicycle.

DM - Teaching them how to swim. [Fitz chuckles. DM laughs mockingly.] You idiot, Fitzcairn. Immortals can't have kids.

Fitz - The slut! All this time she's been cuckolding me with that damn butler.

DM - Yeah. Maybe the butcher.

Fitz - No, it was the butler, Pierre.

<DM - It's probably the baker. CUT

Fitz - I haven't got a baker.>

DM - Yeah. And once with Tynebridge.

Fitz - Tynebridge? He's a married man.

DM - Yeah, well, so are you.

<Fitz - But-- But-- [sputters] She's my maid. CUT Look, enough of these trivialities. We have got to come up with some hard facts.>

DM - Yeah, well, try this one on for size. Drimble is dead.

Fitz - Dead?

DM - Yeah.

Fitz - So I was wrong about him.

DM - We can safely cross him off our list of suspects.

<Fitz - So it must have been Marie. CUT

DM - I don't think so. She might have been after your money, but she'd never murder you.

Fitz - Yes. Well. Yes, that was definitely the old Fitzcairn charm working.>

[Gong sounds offscreen.]

DM - Dinner.

Fitz - Wait. I haven't finished yet.

DM - Oh, yes, you have.

Fitz - No, Mac. We have got to come up with a plan to get my money back.

DM - After I've had my dinner.

Fitz - What about me?

DM - You're dead. Dead men don't eat. [slams visor closed on helmet]

Fitz - Ooh. My nose.

DM - [staring at his notebook, muttering to himself] And {Marie}... Hmm. I'm sure there's something there.

[He snaps the notebook closed, looks up, sees storage room, enters. Fitz's clarinet is lying on a chest, <a dead rat near the mouthpiece. CUT DM picks up the clarinet, examines the mouthpiece.>]

DM - [to himself] Of course. Of course. [puts clarinet back down]

[Juliette, Loxley, & Tynebridge are seated at the table, waiting on DM. DM enters room.]

Juliette - [impatiently] We've been waiting for you, Duncan. What took you so long?

DM - [announces dramatically] I know how Fitz died.

Tynebridge - Well, so do we. He had a heart attack.

DM - Actually, he was poisoned.

Tynebridge & Loxley - [together] Poisoned?

Juliette - How do you know?

[Tynebridge & Loxley look at their bowls of split-pea soup, put their spoons down.]

DM - A little rat told me. [throws dead rat on table. Juliette screams. A glass shatters offscreen. DM looks at Tynebridge.] You got into Brazil last year with Fitz, didn't you?

Tynebridge - Well, it was a business trip. I don't see that it matters now.

DM - Get into the backcountry at all, did we?

Tynebridge - So what?

DM - Come across any... poisons? Something that would kill a man and make it look like a heart attack? Something... like curare.

[Jungle music plays in background.]

Juliette - [gasps] You remember, Tynebridge. We came across a small tribe of South American Indians. They put it on their blow darts to shoot monkeys.

[Monkey screeches in background.]

Loxley - Shoot monkeys? Why on earth would anybody want to shoot monkeys?

[Monkey screeches in background.]

Tynebridge - [to Loxsley] I didn't shoot anything. [to DM] What are you suggesting?

DM - [to Loxsley] Well, the Indians eat monkeys. [to Tynebridge] Draw your own conclusions.

Tynebridge - Be careful, MacLeod. Be very careful.

Loxley - [increduluos, to Juliette] YOU ate monkeys?

[Monkey screeches in background.]

Juliette - Not me. [points at Tynebridge] Him!

Tynebridge - Damn you, Loxley.

Loxley - Preposterous. Monkeys?

[Monkey screeches in background.]

DM - Actually, they're not too bad. They taste a little bit like--

DM / Tynebridge / Juliette - [together] Chicken.

[Chicken clucks in background.]

Marie - [interrupts with a scream, running into dining room] I found him in the garage, bludgeoned to death. He was lying by the car.

DM - Who?

Marie - Pierre.

[Juliette screams again, the loudest one so far. Tynebridge covers his ears with his hands. Another glass shatters offscreen.]

Marie - God, how I loved him. My life is over. I loved him like a butler. [corrects herself] Like a brother.

DM - [making notes in his notebook] A brother?

Marie - A brother.

Loxley - Just-- I don't believe this.

DM - Well, I don't think there's anybody here we can send out in this storm tonight. [Electricity goes out.] Not on a night like this.

Loxley - Monkeys.

Marie - It's a sign. We're all going to die.

[Juliette sobs into her hands.]
 

[Juliet enters, carrying a candle. DM follows, carrying the deceased Pierre on his back. The deceased Drimble is already hanging from a hook, amongst slabs of meat.]

Tynebridge - [follows them in, with Loxley] This is distinctly unpleasant.

DM - Well, it's the only way to keep them until the storm lets up. Unless you want them going off.

Loxley - A meat locker? [They rest Pierre against a post.]

DM - [re: the two bodies] It's getting decidedly packed in here.

Juliette - Poor Pierre. Who could have done such a thing to him?

Loxley - Bludgeoning his skull.

Tynebridge - Breaking his ribs.

DM - How did you know his ribs were broken?

Tynebridge - Well, he looks like a man with broken ribs... doesn't he? [as Juliette & Loxley stare at him] Stop staring at me like that.

DM - Suspicion is an ugly thing, Tynebridge, especially in the face of motive.

Tynebridge - I'm not the only one with a stake in the will.

Loxley - Oh. It is getting cold in here.

Juliette - I'm not hungry anymore.

DM - Yes. Well, I think we should hang him up later. We should all go to bed. [as they leave] That is... make sure your doors are locked.

[Juliette peeks out into hallway, holding a candle. Loxley comes out of room at other end of hallway, also carrying a candle. Loxley walks past Fitz (still hiding in the suit of armor) to meet Juliette. They set their candles down on a side table and begin to kiss passionately. Fitz growls.]

Juliette - [gasps, pulls away from Loxley] What was that noise?

Loxley - 'Tis only my heart... beating. [They begin to kiss passionately again.]

Juliette - Take me now. Take me. [They run down hallway together to Loxley's room.]

Fitz - I'm hardly cold in my grave. [With a groan, he steps stiffly down from his pedestal and clanks awkwardly down the hallway.] ⁵

DM - [mumbling to himself, studying his notebook] Juliette and Tynebridge were both in Brazil. Both shot monkeys.

[Fitz struggles his way toward the staircase.]

DM - [to himself] Marie had the butler, the baker, the chauffeur.

[Fitz reaches the stairs, promptly loses his balance and tumbles down them.]

DM - [hears the noise] Oh, no. [goes to investigate]

DM - [finds Fitz stuck in the armor, lying awkwardly at the bottom of the staircase] What are you doing?

Fitz - I knew it. I knew it all along. It was Loxley. [Juliette can be heard screaming offscreen.] So damn obvious. I'm almost embarrassed. [Screaming continues.]

DM - [drags Fitz under staircase] Stay there.

Juliette - [runs down the stairs, meets DM going up them] Oh. What was that awful noise?

<DM - I don't know. CUT

Tynebridge - More rats?

DM - Oh, definitely.> [noticing] Where's Loxley?

Juliette - Well, he must have slept through it.

Tynebridge - Sounds like an excellent idea. [goes back to his room]

DM - Well, I'm-- I'm going to go and do some reading.

Juliette - Okay. [starts back up the stairs]

DM - Good night, uh, Juliette.

Juliette - Good night, Duncan.

DM - Good night. [waits until Juliette is gone, then runs back under stairs to Fitz]

Fitz - [as DM drags him back out from under staircase] Ow! [DM drags him into library.] Right in front of my eyes. I never did trust that swine of an accountant, Loxley. [groaning] Ouch! That's my arm.

DM - Will you shut up? Or I won't get you out of there.

Fitz - Me shut up? I'm the victim here. The murderee. MacLeod, you've got to do something. Oh, if I could just let Juliette know I was all right.

DM - Maybe I should just tell her that you're an Immortal. CUT [hauls Fitz to his feet]

Fitz - Mac. Mac.

DM - [winces] My finger.

Fitz - Mac, the will is going to be read tomorrow, and you expect me to sit around here doing nothing because you can't come up with a suspect.

DM - Oh, I hate to put this to you, Fitz, but I believe that you were poisoned by your poor, grieving widow!

Fitz - Shh!

DM - [shoots a quick look at the library door] Oh, my hand. [pulls his hand free of the armor]

Fitz - [laughs] That's ridiculous. No. No, no. She loves me, laddie. If there's one thing I know, it's women. [groans as DM works to get him out of the armor] No. Juliette is no murderer. ⁶

DM - She killed you.

Fitz - No, you're wrong.

DM - Not to mention the butler and Drimble. She had access to the poison, she had motive -- your money, lots of it. <[CUT punches Fitz in the chest, bruises his knuckles on the armor, shakes his hand] Ow. Damn.>

[Juliette screams offscreen.]

Fitz - Juliette.

DM - [sarcastic] Really. [gives Fitz a look] Stay here.

Fitz - [still stuck in the armor] You're making a habit of stating the obvious, MacLeod. [falls over again]

[DM enters to find Loxley dead in a chair, a dagger in his chest, Juliette and Tynebridge standing over him.]

DM - [to Juliette] What are you doing in his room?

Juliette - Nothing. I'm not doing anything. I just heard a noise, and I simply noticed that the door to his room was open, that's all.

DM - I think you're lying.

Tynebridge - MacLeod.

DM - I have a witness that saw you kissing Loxley in the hallway. What do you say to that?

Tynebridge - Bad taste doesn't necessarily lead to murder.

Juliette - Thank you.

DM - Not to mention I think you killed Loxley, AND you killed Fitz. [Juliette screams; a glass shatters offscreen.] Would you stop that screeching?!

Juliette - Me? Kill my darling Fitzy? Oh, I'm just so glad he's not alive to hear you say that. You must be mad, Duncan.

DM - Mad or not, I'm locking you in your room for the night.

Juliette - [gasps] Oh, help me. [clings to Tynebridge] Can't you see what he's doing? He's the murderer, and he's just trying to set us up.

Tynebridge - [as DM wrestles Juliette away from him] Us? He's not accusing me.

DM - You'll be comfortable in your room until I can get to the police in the morning. [hauls her out of the room]

Juliette - Big, hairy brute. Unhand me. I'm innocent. Where's my darling Fitz when I need him?

Fitz - [chases after him] Mac, I have a plan. ⁷

Fitz-as-Senior - [voice-over, in deep voice] Open up there.
 

Fitz-as-Senior - [offscreen, knocks on manor door, rings doorbell, calls through door] Open this door and come out here, or there'll be hell to pay. [continues knocking and ringing bell] ⁸

[Marie comes down entry hall staircase, holding a cross out in front of her, whimpering. She opens the door, revealing Fitz wearing a gray beard and wig. ]

Fitz-as-Senior - And about time, my dear. About time. [enters manor] It's disgusting. Bloody disgusting. [Tynebridge and DM come out of their rooms at the commotion.] I'm shocked. Absolutely shocked. Hmph! Poor Fitz. The most wonderful of men suddenly dies, obviously by foul means, and I am not even notified. I-- Or is it "me"?

DM - Oh, it's definitely you.

Tynebridge - Excuse me, sir, but just who are you?

<Fitz-as-Senior - CUT [clears his throat] I am Hugh Fitzcairn, Senior.> Father of Hugh Fitzcairn, Junior... and sole heir to his estate.

DM - Hmm. Funny, I don't see the resemblance. [circles around Fitz]

Fitz-as-Senior - Mmm. [clears his throat again] I can assure all of you -- both of you -- that I will not be kept at a distance in a matter of such extreme importance to my son. A man that I consider to be one of the finest to grace this fair land. It's bloody disgusting! Hmph! [DM walks away from him.] Hmph! Well. [follows DM]

[Marie screams, holding the cross out in front of her. DM enters, followed by Tynebridge. Marie's scream ends and she sobs as DM crosses to the bed, where Juliette lies sprawled. DM checks her wrist for a pulse.]

Fitz-as-Senior - [enters room] What the devil's going on here? [sees Juliette's body] Oh, no. Not this. Not this... two-timing, adulterous little slut that he loved so well. [crosses to bed, looks at DM] Are you sure? [DM nods. Fitz checks her wrist himself.] My God. She's dead.

[Marie quickly crosses herself.]

Fitz - [no longer wearing most of his 'Senior' disguise, screams and pulls at his hair] I do not believe it! I ask you here to help me, and now this happens!

DM - I'm sorry, Fitz. I'm really sorry.

Fitz - You're sorry? My beloved Juliette is dead, and all you can say for yourself is you're sorry?

DM - I know how much she meant to you.

Fitz - Oh! Oh, no, you don't. To you, she was just another one of Fitzcairn's little follies. But I loved her, Mac. Trysts and all. And you couldn't believe that when it mattered.

DM - Fitz, I--

Fitz - And you -- you even accused her of killing me!

DM - But-- But, Fitz, Fitz, I swear-- I swear I'll find the guilty party.

Fitz - Oh, yes. And how bloody difficult's that gonna be? Now there's only one bloody suspect left! Even you couldn't screw that up!

[DM crosses Juliette's name off the list in his notebook.]

DM - [enters] Where do you think you're going?

Tynebridge - As far away from this lunatic asylum as possible. [latches suitcase]

DM - Not yet you're not.

Tynebridge - Oh, who died and made you king?

DM - You're the only suspect left, Tynebridge. It doesn't take Scotland Yard to figure that one out.

Tynebridge - You're mad.

DM - The phone lines have been repaired, and I'm calling the police. And you're not going anywhere until they get here.

Tynebridge - How dare you accuse me.

DM - The last one standing's the killer, Tynebridge, and that's you.

Tynebridge - [scoffs] Seems to me, MacLeod, that you, too, are standing. ⁹ I know I didn't kill anybody. So if there's a guilty party here, as far as I'm concerned, you're it. [starts toward door, carrying suitcase]

DM - But Fitzcairn was my friend.

Tynebridge - Yes, mine, too. But the dying didn't start until you arrived. And is it merely coincidence that you control the estate? I don't think so. [DM moves to block him from leaving.] Ha, ha. You're going to kill me too?

DM - No, but I'm gonna stop you from going anywhere.

Tynebridge - Well, we'll see about that. [swings suitcase at DM. DM grabs Tynebridge's arm, swings him around. Tynebridge drops suitcase, which spills silverware, china, etc onto the floor.] HE isn't going to need it. [suddenly grabs a book from side table, throws it at DM, who ducks] I won't go quietly, MacLeod! [throws silver urn at DM] Not like the others! [charges at DM, yelling. DM turns his charge aside, runs him headfirst into the closed door, knocking him out.]

[moments later]

Tynebridge - [wakes up tied to a chair in his room] MacLeod? Let me go. You murderous bastard! You won't get away with this. I'm not afraid of you. You bloodthirsty maniac. Help. Help. Help! [DM shoves clarinet mute in Tynebridge's mouth to gag him.]

DM - I'll be right back. [leaves]

Man - [on phone] Right. [DM hangs up phone, then looks at his notebook, mumbling to himself.]

[Tynebridge hears floorboards creak, turns his head to look. ¹⁰ A door opens slightly and the end of a blowdart pokes through. A dart hits Tynebridge and the blowdart withdraws.]

DM - [enters through main bedroom door] Well, Tynebridge, the Yard is on its way. [He moves closer as Tynebridge doesn't react to him. From his position, he can't see the dart in Tynebridge's neck.] Tynebridge. [sees the dart, glances around, pulls out his notebook, counts the victims/suspects, pulls the clarinet mute out of Tynebridge's mouth] Uh-oh. ¹¹

[DM hauls Tynebridge's body in, notices one of the hooks is empty. The three other men are there, but... DM pulls out his notebook, looks at the list. Where is Juliette's body?]

Juliette - [enters with a gun pointed at him] Looking for me, Duncan?

DM - You were dead.

Juliette - Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. Why is it the cute ones are always so slow?

DM - Of course. Brazil. You found another poison like curare -- one that would slow down the body's heart rate--

Juliette - I'm impressed. Yes, you're right. And it wears off after a few hours. Anyone but a doctor would be fooled.

DM - I was right. You killed them all.

Juliette - A girl's gotta do...

DM - [to himself] Yes. [writes in notebook]

Juliette - Only it's not quite all of them just yet. I'm afraid you know too much.

<DM - What about the maid? CUT

Juliette - She'll be joining you shortly.> [shoots DM] Next life, sweetheart.

Fitz-as-Senior - [enters, back in 'Senior' disguise] You really are a nasty piece of business, aren't you?

Juliette - It was a mistake for you to come down here.

Fitz-as-Senior - Fancy killing Fitz, your husband, for money. Oh. A man who loved you with all his heart -- with every fiber of his--

Juliette - Oh, please. He loved every woman this side of the Thames.

Fitz-as-Senior - He married only you.

Juliette - And I married only him. [raises gun] Now, say good-bye.

Fitz-as-Senior - Aren't you, uh, forgetting something? Don't you need to keep someone alive to take the blame?

Juliette - [play-acting] Detective, Detective. [gasps] Ever since my dear departed's heart attack, everything just went crazy. Drimble shot himself in a hunting accident. And then Pierre was bludgeoned to death by Tynebridge in a jealous rage over the maid. I mean, you know how French these maids can be. [stops play-acting] How am I doing?

Fitz-as-Senior - Surprisingly well.

Juliette - [play-acting] And MacLeod. Oh. He always had designs on me. Killed poor old Fitz's father in order to keep the estate intact. And when he attacked me, I shot him in self-defense. [sobs briefly, stops play-acting again] What do you think? ¹²

Fitz-as-Senior - It's hard to see what Fitz ever saw in you. <[Juliette shoots him.] CUT Bitch. [Juliette shoots him again.] Harlot! ¹³ [Juliette shoots him a third time.] Whore. [He collapses.]>

Juliette - So much for his side of the family. [goes to DM's body, CUT kisses her fingers, reaches down to touch them to his lips. He revives with a gasp. Juliette yelps, stumbles back.] Oh, no! [DM & Fitz both start to sit up.] But-- [DM grabs her gun from her.] Oh! No. How?

Fitz-as-Senior - Full of surprises, my dear.

Juliette - But--

Fitz-as-Senior - Blanks.

DM - Yes, I expected this, so I exchanged real bullets for blanks.

Juliette - It's impossible. It's not fair! No. No. [clings to DM] Oh, Fitz left me a very rich woman. I could use someone to share it with.

DM - [removes her arms from around his neck] I don't think so. I've gotten used to getting up in the mornings.

Fitz-as-Senior - [glares at Juliette] Slut.

Juliette - [tries again] Oh, why would I want to kill you? Just think about it.

DM - [chuckles unconvincingly, plucks dart from her hand] Because one little prick is all it takes.
 

<[Bobbies ¹⁴ and Inspector get out of car, walk toward manor entrance. Two men exit carrying one of the bodies on a stretcher, covered in a white sheet. DM forcefully escorts Juliette out after them.]

Juliette - Oh, please. Oh, Duncan. Oh, have a heart. I'm a free woman now.

DM - Mm.

Juliette - And terribly rich. You could have anything.

DM - [to bobbies] Here you go, boys.

Juliette - Anything, Duncan.> CUT

DM - [to bobbies] Careful. She's a tricky one.

Bobby - Right, then. Come with us.

Juliette - [as bobbies lead her away] Duncan. Duncan! Dunc--

Bobby - Come on.

Juliette - Oh, stop. Oh, Duncan. [They shove her in the back of the car.] Oh!

Juliette - [pounds fist on car window] Duncan!

<Juliette - You scheming ingrate!> CUT

DM - She screams a lot, too.

[Fitz steps out of manor, dressed as himself again.]

Juliette - Fitz! My husband! [Fitz waves at her.] ¹⁵ Fitz! What are you doing there? No! No! It can't be! [bangs on window as car drives away] Oh! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out! Oh! No! Oh! Oh! No! Oh!

Juliette - [muffled] Fitz, I'll get you if it's the last thing I do, you little {worm! You'll pay for this!}

DM - Well, it's been quite a week, Fitz.

Fitz - Yes. Good riddance.

DM - Will you be okay?

Fitz - Well, nothing that a few hundred thousand pounds -- I mean dollars -- won't sort out.

DM - Hmm. [opens newspaper, looks at headlines, then looks closer]

Fitz - [sighs] A few notary signatures... and Hugh Senior can pick the money up on the other side of the pond. [sighs] God bless America.

DM - Yes. God bless America. [sighs] Well, I'll see you around, Fitz. [hands newspaper to him]

Fitz - [takes paper] Yes. Thanks, Mac. [They shake hands.]

DM - My pleasure. [walks away]

[Fitz opens newspaper: 'Daily Mail' Continental Edition, Friday, October 25

Headline reads:

Other headlines read:

Fitz - [screams, falls down] I'm ruined! Mac!

DM - Yes, you're bankrupt.

Fitz - [wails, looks up] Wait. Wait. [gets up, runs to him] I have an idea.

DM - Ohh.

Fitz - Yes.

DM - [to himself] I think I've got enough time to get the train to London.

Fitz - No, listen, Mac. CUT <This is a great idea.

DM - I know, but I have a much better idea. There's a position vacant for a manservant in my household, actually.

Fitz - Manservant?

DM - It's very nice.

Fitz - Me?

DM - You're going to have to, uh-- It's going to pay handsomely. It's... at least two pounds a week.

Fitz - My idea is--

[They walk off together, both continuing indistinctly.]

DM - {You should be able to pay the mortgage off in about five hundred and fifty years, I'd say.}

Fitz - [yells] Will you listen?>