Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Miss DiPesto, what is it?
...just as he was on his way out the door to his wife's funeral.
You'll buzz me when Mr. Addison arrives?
Message number one, stop writing her.
-We'll never make it to this funeral. -Mr. Addison isn't in yet.
...all the way across town to kill Gail Woodley.
Can you blame her? Those envelopes limit the possibilities.
I called the police, the hospitals, every temp agency in town.
I checked the coffee table, no sign of it there.
What's the scheme, team? Fire drill?
It doesn't matter what I think.
Things were getting a little dull back at the ranch.
It means, this is the '80s, Maddie...
So...
Yes? Mr. Addison? Put him on.
-So, what are you saying? -I'm saying maybe he didn't kill Gail...
Why do you come in every day?
You frighten her.
But I go on writing, and she goes on writing.
-Well, I'm sorry anyway. -You want to tell me how it happened?
Take the majority of your murder-suicides...
-What are you doing? -Wait a second.
I stitched a K on his shirt so everybody would know he's a knucklehead.
It could be anyone.
When it didn't arrive after a few weeks, I figured it was lost. I gave it up.
...and giggle about the damn thing all night long.
An idea, an original thought. You've heard of them.
-I don't know, how long? -How many days?
My will. This place is making me suicidal.
-No! -No, you do.
...and I would never do anything to harm him. Never.
...you still got your apartheid, down there in South Africa.
Like he took a bath once in a while.