Why Women Kill

Previously onWhy Women Kill...

-This must be Mr. Hemple. -The guy whose life you ruined.

You're going to pay for what you did to me, Loomis.

Don't you touch him!

Hey! Stop.

-Let me see. -Okay. I'm fine.

Rita is coming to my home?

With the entire nominating committee.

Surprise inspection.

Ladies.

Hello.

What a surprise.

I admire women who try to remake themselves.

Does that mean you'll let me be in the club?

I think you're responsible

for his fall down the stairs.

Once I can prove that, I will destroy you.

A photo of Catherine

in bed with a young buck

would disinherit her.

That scarf looks lovely on you.

I-I'm sorry. Is this person a friend of yours?

I'm his lover.

You cheated on me with that?

What's her name? She humiliated me.

I want to see her punished.

I think Alma

is absolutely Elysian Park Garden Club material.

I'm falling apart.

Oh, but you don't want to hear how sick I am.

But I do.

I really do.

Her name was Harriet.

Years earlier, before her illness,

she'd been a schoolteacher.

So it was only natural

she would want to impart one last lesson.

If you live long enough, you will lose someone you love.

Some people f-fall apart when death knocks on their door.

They shed buckets of tears.

Well...

I say it's a waste of water.

Light that candle first.

We should simply thank God

for the time we had with those we cared for.

The ones who gave our life meaning.

Let's have music, too. Hmm?

Something Italian, I think.

My point is, I'm not afraid to die.

So don't dwell in grief once I've gone.

I will be finally free of suffering.

That is something to celebrate.

Is the syringe ready, Bertram?

Yes, Mummy.

Good.

Let us begin.

You put the needle in...

where I point.

I would do it myself,

but you know what this disease has done to my hands.

It's a glorious thing you've done tonight.

And always remember that.

Remember...

only the best sons send their mothers to heaven.

It was not uncommon for Bertram Fillcot

to dream of his mother.

So he wasn't at all surprised to see her that night.

But he was a bit startled to discover...

...that she'd brought company.

Bertram knew instantly why they'd come,

and what they expected of him.

Bertie.

What are you doing up?

I d... I couldn't sleep.

You look pale.

Are you ill?

-No, I... -Hmm.

-I had a dream. -Hmm.

Martha Westcott was in it.

Joan's aunt?

Why dream about her?

We spoke for a long time yesterday,

while you were busy with the ladies from the Garden Club.

Hmm.

And she confessed to me that she's seriously ill.

Suffering from cancer.

-No! -Alma,

she practically asked me to kill her.

If you could hear how much she missed her dead husband...

Well, you're not going to arrange the reunion.

Can't we at least discuss it?

You gave me your solemn vow you'd give up your little hobby.

I'm trying to.

But the urge...

-It's returned. -Oh.

I'm just worried if I don't do something to satisfy it soon,

I might have a complete mental breakdown.

Nonsense.

That's all in your head.

Oh. Well, if that's the case,

perhaps I should talk to a psychiatrist.

Have you lost your mind?

That would be the topic of conversation, yes.

Psychiatrists gossip just like everyone else.

The risk is far too great.

Well, I need to do something to rid me of this compulsion.

Bertram, I don't want to discuss this.

Please, can we just go back to bed?

I'm exhausted.

Yeah, I'm sorry.

Uh...

I'll be up in a moment.

Operator?

Yes, um...

I'd like the number, please, for a Timothy Keegan.

Um, I believe he now lives in Oxnard.

Yes. Yes, I'll hold.

Yes.

Right.

Oh, thanks, Amy.

You won't be sorry you changed your vote.

She'll be a great addition to our club.

Yes.

I'll see you at lunch.

Oh, 11 votes.

It's almost done.

You're looking evil today.

What are you up to?

Everywhere I turn, lately,

people are trying to humiliate me.

So I've been forced to wreak a little havoc.

Get a bit of revenge.

What do you want revenge for?

You've got a fur coat, a fancy car.

Most people would kill for your life.

I'm looking for sympathy, Isabel, not perspective.

Please, Papa.

You must squeeze the ball.

The doctors say it will help you regain control of your body.

Miss Castillo?

Hello.

Scooter, from the dry cleaners.

Oh, of course.

It's so nice to see you.

Out for a stroll?

I always bring my Papa here

for his special exercises.

You're a good daughter.

Nothing matters more than family.

That's what my mom used to say,

before she died.

Oh, Papa. You dropped the ball.

I seemed to have got some mustard on my shirt.

You don't happen to have a hankie?

Oh, I think so.

When did you lose your mama?

I was ten.

Oh. So young.

I loved her so much.

We had so much fun.

Well, I... I don't seem to be helping much.

Oh, uh...

Try the water fountain.

So...

Do you go to the movies?

Oh, yes. I-I love foreign films.

I actually enjoy reading subtitles.

You know, maybe we could...

Oh. What am I saying?

You don't even know me.

Well, I know

you're a very polite young man.

And, uh,

there is an Italian movie I've been dying to see.

I believe it starts at 6:30.

I'll pick you up at 6:00.

Nice to meet you, sir.

Oh, Papa.

You're squeezing so hard.

You must be getting your strength back.

-Morning, Mrs. Fillcot. -Hello.

Boy, your garden sure does look lovely.

Oh.

Thank you, Eddie. It truly is my pride and joy.

-I'll bet. -Hmm.

So I got a telegram for you.

A telegram?

For me?

Oh, dear.

Congratulations to our new member.

Luncheon reception today at 2:00.

Is it bad news?

Whoa.

Dee! Bertram!

-Where are you? -In here.

Is everything okay?

Everything's spectacular.

-I've been accepted into the Garden Club. -No.

Telegram just arrived.

Telegram?