(THUNDER CLAPPING)
(GATE CREAKING)
(SCREECHING)
(DOOR CREAKING)
(INDISTINCT WHISPERING)
(CACKLING)
(CRYPTKEEPER SPEAKING)
It Iooks Iike Neptomb has just moved from VirghouI to Iate Capricorn,
which wouId mean you shouId avoid
any serious romantic enstrangIements for a whiIe,
at Ieast untiI the end of the month when Mercury turns retrograde.
Hmm.
Something about your horrorscope isn't making sense.
Let me see your hand.
Yes, interesting.
I'm not much at bIeeding paIms, but your future seems rather cIoudy.
Kind of Iike the woman in tonight's taIe.
She's been contempIating her scar sign, too,
in a nasty nugget I caII, ""A SIight Case Of Murder.""
(HEAVY BREATHING)
(GRAVEL CRUMBLING)
(TYPEWRITER CLACKING)
""Murder's a tricky business,"" thought MuIIigan.
""AImost as tricky
""as Iove.
""The end.""
Yes!
(HEAVY BREATHING)
(DOOR OPENING)
HeIIo, Sharon dear.
I saw you writing away. I didn't want to disturb.
Cup of sugar?
Mrs. Trask.
I wish I couId borrow a cup of adjectives instead.
How about a cup of brain ceIIs instead?
Don't think that I'm being pushy, Sharon dear,
but have you had a chance to read my story yet?
(SOFTLY) As much as I couId bear.
-Yes. Yes, I did, Mrs. Trask. -Oh, did you Iike it?
WeII, Iet's just say,
in the pantheon of mystery writers, there's the greats,
there's everyone eIse who's ever written a book, and then there's you.
Oh, it doesn't sound as though you Iiked it very much.
Agatha Christie can rest in peace as far as you're concerned.
Thanks for coming.
You'II be pIeased to know I've become much more organized.
I even know how my next story is going to end.
Mrs. Trask, I Iive by one hard-and-fast ruIe.
In matters of murder, never know the ending tiII you get there.
Never know. Oh, I Iike that. In matters of murder, never...
Goodbye.
WeII, how is that husband of yours? Is he stiII away?
Thanks for the sugar.
(CLATTERING)
Christ, now what does she want?
Nosy bIoody idiot.
You've had it.
Sergeant DimbIeby? It's Sharon Bannister here.
I think I've got a prowIer about. CouId you send someone?
Oh, reaIIy?
Thirty minutes? WeII, by that time I...
Yes, I see. Understand.
(WINDOW CLATTERING)
(INSECTS CHIRPING)
Maybe there is someone.
Oh, heII.
(BEEPING)
(TELEPHONE BEEPING)
-Sergeant DimbIeby? -MAN:: No:
Who is this?
WelI, it's Larry: Sharon, are you aIIright?
Larry!
(DOOR BANGING)
I think there's somebody here.
Honey, are you aIIright?
(DOORKNOB RATTLING)
Oh, my God.
Sharon?
(DOOR OPENING)
They're coming in. They're coming in.
Honey:
Honey? Are you aII right?
(SIGHING)
Larry, you bastard!
You used to caII me biscuit. Come on, admit it.
When you heard my voice, you feIt better.
I shouId take this poker and rearrange your organs.
Now, get out of my house. Get out!
You mind if I warm up a bit first?
Your house? That's not a good sign. Whatever happened to our house?
The onIy pIace this was ever our house was in your dreams.
I get the feeIing this separation's been harder on me than you.
Pity.
ProbabIy won't Iike the divorce any better.
I didn't hear your car puII up.
Oh, I didn't bring the car, pumpkin.
I took the train to ChumIeigh, hiked the rest of the way.
Hiked? It's 20 miIes.
Twenty-one, actuaIIy.
I wanted to surprise you.
You know how the IocaI busy-bodies are.
That damned Mrs. Trask. No secrets with her, you know.
Surprise, sweetie.
This is a very sick joke.
The onIy sick joke I'm aware of is our marriage,
but then again, I'm biased.
I may have been dishonest with you, but I never cheated on you.
-Meaning? -Oh, pIease...
Larry, I think you'd better go home and sIeep this off.
Not drunk, I'm afraid.
Oh, I need the keys to your car.
I'II caII a cab.
(GROANING)
I don't think you get it, Iamby pie.
I'm driving your car out of here.
And when I pass Mrs. Trask's pIace,
the oId bag wiII watch after your headIights and think to herseIf,
""I wonder where Sharon's going this time of night.""
That is aImost cIever.
Oh, they'II find your abandoned car in some roadside services.
They'II search for a week or so. But in the end...
-Larry, you don't have to do this. -No?
Oh, I can imagine what kind of settIement your Iawyers wiII offer me.
On the other hand, if you died now...
PIus, throw in a posthumous best seIIer. Qu'est-ce que c'est, snookums?
(GRUNTS)
Drop it, or I'II put a hoIe right through that sick IittIe brain of yours.
Ooh. Ouch.
That sounds Iike a Iine from one of your stupid books.
(CLICKING)
Some murder mystery writer you are.
The safety's on, you deceitfuI, two-timing bitch.
Love hurts, doesn't it?
(KNOCK ON DOOR)
MRS. TRASK: Sharon?
It's aII right, Sharon. I know where the spare key is kept.
Sharon,
I've got a IittIe riddIe for you.
A box with no hinges, key or Iid, but goIden treasure inside it is hid.
Do you give up? It's an egg, of course!
Poor dear, she's a miIIion miIes away.
I'm sorry to disturb you, Sharon.
It's aII right. I know where the eggs are kept.
You know, I've been doing aII this research, dear.
It's given me so many good ideas.
In my next story, the man dies with a gun in his hand.
And as rigor mortis sets in, his finger tightens on the trigger. Bang!
The MurderedMurderer: What do you think?
Yes, weII, I see that you're busy.
To Iove, honor and obey? Nope.
For richer or for poorer? Nope.
In sickness and in heaIth?
Uh-uh.
TiII death us do part.
WeII, one out of four ain't bad.
(TIMER DINGS)
Joey!
Joey?
SHARON:: ""Dear Cupcake,
""Iknow I've told you in my Ietters not to speak to me
""for fear that my husband would find out,
""But the time is coming soon when this waII ofsiIence wiIIbe destroyed: ""
AII right.
Joey!
What?
-Joey! -Oh, bIoody heII!
I've toId you, Mum, I don't want you bothering me.
WiII you take these to Mrs. Bannister?
I think she couId do with a bit of cheering up.
Cheering up?
WeII, I've got a feeIing that she and her husband
aren't getting on very weII.
Oh, he's such a vioIent man.
I won't be surprised a bit if he didn't...
(DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING)
What?
You know, pet,
when we're aIone together and you're aII quiet Iike this,
I couId aImost faII in Iove with you again.
Mrs. Bannister?
Sharon?
(LARRY WHISTLING)
Right, then, my pet. Where did you Ieave your car keys?
(GASPS)
(EXCLAIMING)
Damn!
(JOEY BREATHING RAPIDLY)
(EXCLAIMING)
Oh, my God.
Sharon!
You'II pay for this.
Oh, my gods.
Did Mrs. Bannister Iike her gingerbread?
Anything going on at the house?
(COCKING)
Murder.
Oh, that's wonderfuI.
Perhaps I inspired her.
(PHONE RINGING)
-HeIIo? -Hi, Iover:
You didn't hit me hard enough.
You aIways were romantic.
Sharon, where are you?
By the way, thanks for Ieaving the gun up here:
(EXCLAIMS)
(SHARON LAUGHING)
I think I just figured how to get the safety off.
Bye, biscuit.
(GRUNTING)
(KEYCHAIN BEEPING)
(GASPING)
(GUNSHOT)
(GROANING)
(KEYS HUMMING)
-You... -You...
Who?
That's it. What an idea !
That's the answer.
Is that the Trask kid?
You're aIive. Thank God.
Cupcake's gonna save you.
(GROANING)
Cupcake?
You caII him cupcake?
(LARRY GRUNTING)
I haven't the sIightest idea what he's taIking about.
Give it up, you Iying cow.
I've read the goddamn postcard he sent you.
What postcard?
I never sent you a postcard. You toId me never to contact you.
What the heII are you taIking about?
For Christ's sake, Sharon, I know you're screwing him.
I wouIdn't sIeep with that moron if he had the Iast erection in the universe.
You bitch!
My stomach.
It's Iike it's on fire.
(RETCHING)
Don't move, Larry.
If you weren't sIeeping with him, what the fIipping heII is going on here?
That's what I want to know.
(DOOR OPENING)
Oh, dear.
CaII an ambuIance.
""Make the husband think the wife is cheating.
""ManipuIate the boy to faII in Iove with the wife.
""Poison the ginger bread so the poIice wiII think the boy's committed suicide.""
It doesn't say anything on here about caIIing for an ambuIance.
You?
You did this?
Of course, nothing quite went the way I wanted it to.
I was reaIIy very surprised.
But you were so right, Sharon,
""In matters of murder,
""you never know the ending untiI you get there.""
Oh, I'm afraid you're empty, dear.
(CLICKING)
You see, you see, the breech is back. You see, research is so important.
PIease, I'II give you anything.
How about your Iatest bestseIIer?
I saw it on your writing desk.
You conniving bitch.
Oh, reaIIy?
You'II get your sweater aII messed up.
I think I'II caII it Death By Love TriangIe:
Do you Iike that?
(GROANING)
I'II take that as a yes.
Looks Iike Sharon's due for a IittIe career change
from writing noveIs to screampIays.
But with a taIent Iike hers, I'm sure she'II just grim and bear it.
(CACKLING)
Now I know what's bothering me. You know, the zodi-hack never Iies.
You toId me you were Sagittarius, but the truth is, you're Pieces.
(LAUGHING)