All language subtitles for Murdoch.mysteries.S17E18.BAE.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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(THEME MUSIC)

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
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(CACKLING)

Oh, you'll not be laughing when
she comes for you, my friends.

Barefoot and babbling
in her bloody white gown.

She haunts the cemetery
looking for men to beguile.

If you see her, look away.

Once her eyes meet yours, all is lost.

You'll be a helpless minion
for the woman in white.

You'll die for her, kill for her,

wreak the vengeance that
in life she never could.

And if you believe that,

I got a bridge in Brooklyn
I'd like to sell you!

(ALL LAUGHING)

Well, I do believe I'm
just sozzled enough...

... to take an evening
drive in the country air.

(PATRONS MUMBLING)

(ENGINE REVVING)

(YAWNING)

(EERIE MUSIC)

(THUDDING)

Mother of God.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

He's missing an ear, sir.

Must have been torn off by the vehicle.

Well, I don't see it around anywhere.

Ear today, gone tomorrow.
(CHUCKLING) As it were.

No. I'm sorry, sir.

Uh...

Fellow likely stepped
out in front of a car.

Do you think it was an accident?

I don't believe so, Henry.

Judging from by the
number of tire tracks,

the driver likely
backed up and rolled over

the victim a number of times.

This was murder.

All right. Thank you.

We'll be in touch if we
have any further questions.

He was cutting through
the cemetery, sir,

when he found the body lying here.

Other than that, he knows nothing.

Orville Sproul. Forty-five years of age.

Ah, and what's this, sir?

Looks to be an awl.

The victim was likely a leather worker.

So, what do we do now?

We look for the vehicle.

Oh, sir, isn't it
likely long gone by now?

Well, it's probably damaged, Henry,

and very close by.

Wha... on foot, sir?

Yes. The exercise will do us good.

Nothing was stolen?

Not as far as I can tell.

I don't understand. If
no crime was committed...

Certainly, this is a criminal act.

I take it you don't usually display
your wares in such a fashion?

Of course not!

Someone broke in last night
and fiddled with my meat!

(CRABTREE): It's quite elaborately done.

The-the Eiffel Tower?
It's ingenious, really.

Find it funny, do you?

Not at all! I'm just saying look
at all the attention it's getting.

Is it not free advertising?

Someone broke into my store!

You know, all that food?

Now I gotta throw it out!

- (SIGHS) Who else has access to the store?
- No one.

I own the building.

I rent out the adjacent storefronts
to a bookseller and a hat maker.

We live in the apartments
above our stores.

- And there was no signs of forced entry?
- None.

I-I've no idea how the intruder got in.

Mr. Peach,

what's your relationship
with your tenants like?

Excellent. They love me.

Mr. Peach overstates
my affection for him

and the rent increase hasn't helped.

- He raised your rent?
- For the second time this year.

Did you have anything to do with
the goings-on inside his store?

What are you talking about?

Well, somebody rearranged
his wares in bizarre displays;

towers of beef upon pork;

shingles of mutton;

- columns of sausage.
- (CLEARS THROAT)

I can assure you that wasn't me,

but something odd occurred
in my store, as well.

- Oh, really?
- Look what they did to my books!

All the spines are facing in!

Meat sculptures?

Are you seriously asking me this?

I'm just doing my job, ma'am.

Then you should leave me to do mine,

so I can earn enough to cover
this exorbitant rent increase.

- Mr. Peach raised your rent as well?
- Mm-hmm.

- Did you argue with him about it?
- I complained, vehemently.

And I suspect Mr. Peach
has engaged in some sort

of campaign of mischief in
order to rattle me. Look!

I don't understand.

(SCOFFS) Does this look like emu to you?

I've never seen an emu before.

My feathers have all been
rearranged and mislabelled!

I see.

(HIGGINS): Come on, lads!
Put some muscle into it!

My grandmother could do better!

(MURDOCH): I'm not sure shouting at them

will help them go any faster, Henry.

What do you recommend?

Perhaps you could help them?

Sir.

All right.

(STRUGGLING GRUNTS)

All right.

Ah-ha!

Mr. Sproul's ear.

We have our murder weapon.

And soon we will have the murderer.

Run down by an automobile.

You're thinking it's murder?

The evidence thus far points
to a deliberate killing.

I did some digging on your victim.

What did you find?

Nothing particularly noteworthy.

Orville Sproul was a bachelor
who made leather goods.

His neighbours said he kept to himself.

They have no idea why
anyone would harm him.

Was he robbed?

There's money in his wallet.

Sir.

- I've traced that license plate.
- Who's the owner?

A Mr. Charlie Hall.

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

I knew you coppers'd find me.

A little quicker than I imagined.

Are you admitting you
murdered Orville Sproul?

Yes. I mean, no, no.

I... (SIGHS)

I hit him with my car,
but it wasn't my fault.

Whose fault was it, then?

The woman in white.

I beg your pardon?

It's a local legend.

I-I never... I never believed it,

but I saw her last night.
She was near the cemetery.

Barefoot and bedraggled with
her hollow eyes and gaping maw.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

A-And then bam, my car hit something.

I didn't know it was
a man until I backed up

to-to see what I ran over.

Running over him a second time.

And-and then I... I panicked.

Mother o' God.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Then ran over him a third time.

Had you been drinking, by chance?

A little. But that's no crime.

Unfortunately, no.

But leaving the scene of an accident is.

What can I do for you, Mr. Peach?

- It's gotten worse.
- So very much worse.

I would say exponentially worse.

What's happened now?

(INTRIGUING MUSIC)

_

(GASPS) That's one of my hats!

That's 30 pounds of prime beef ruined.

That's my book.

Your what?

That novel.

I wrote that.

You're George Crabtree?

I love your work.

Thank you. Is it selling at all?

Uh... not particularly.

Right. Then, let's get inside and
we'll get to the bottom of this.

(LAUGHING)

This is so exciting.

We just don't get stores
like these in Puslinch!

Oh, well, this is a wonderful milliner.

(GASPS) Oh, my!

They certainly do things
differently in the big city.

Indeed, they do.

- Shall we continue?
- Yes, yes.

Do you think a murder charge will stick?

According to Mr. Hall,
a ghostly woman in white

orchestrated the car accident,

which is either deliberate fabrication,

or a figment of his imagination.

Hall may try to use his
intoxication as an excuse.

Regardless, Charlie Hall killed
Orville Sproul with his car.

- (PHONE RINGING)
- Oh.

(HIGH-PITCHED FEEDBACK)

Ju-just a moment!

Detective Murdoch.

Oh! Miss Hart. Yes.

I see. Right.

Thank you.

Uh, Charlie Hall did not kill
Orville Sproul with his car.

According to Miss Hart,
Mr. Sproul was already dead

when Mr. Hall hit him with his car.

He'd been stabbed in the chest.

(MAN): I saw her with my own eyes!

The woman in white!

(CONSTABLE): I don't know
what you're talking about.

You'll have to explain.

Sir, may we help you?

I saw the woman in white.

Last night. She was
wandering between the graves,

staring with those vacant eyes.

I saw her and she saw me!

I feared for my life.

That sounds like the woman
Charlie Hall saw last night.

Are you up for a stroll
through the graveyard?

Sir.

The premises have been
thoroughly searched.

There's no signs of forced entry.

Correct.

The locks have been changed.

Nobody can gain access to your
businesses without these keys.

- Thank you.
- So there should be no more mischief.

Well, unless the perpetrator's
slipping through the walls.

Like a phantom.

A phantom? Oh, you don't think?

No, I don't think it was a phantom!

(EERIE MUSIC)

No! It-it...

That is not something a rational member

of the Toronto Constabulary would think.

So, no, I do not think that.

(EXHALES)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

I was sittin' over there on the bench

and I saw the woman in white.

She was walking in this direction.

Then what did you do?

Being a God-fearing man,

I'm not ashamed to tell you, I ran.

Right.

Uh, we'll contact you with
our findings. Thank you.

Perhaps we should speak to
the inhabitants in that place?

They might know something.

(WOMAN GASPS)

Could that be our woman in white?

Have you become a believer?

I believe I may have just seen a woman.

She was wearing white.

Movements were strange.

Everything about this is strange.

(KNOCKING)

Toronto Constabulary!

(RAPID FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

What do you want?

I'm Detective William Murdoch.

Yes. Clarence Grundy.
Again, what do you want?

- The woman upstairs. Is she your wife?
- Yes. My lovely Camilla.

I'd like to have a word with her.

Mm. Now's not a good time.

(WOMAN): Clarence! Help!

Uh...

(TENSE MUSIC)

Good God.

- Help! Please!
- It's all right, miss.

- Clarence!
- You're safe now.

- Help me!
- Camilla!

- What on earth is this?
- It's for her own good.

I highly doubt that. Mr. Grundy,

you are under arrest
for unlawful restraint.

- I...
- Hold there. I can help you.

No. (SIGHS) Ugh, you don't understand!

We understand just fine.
You are in need of help.

(CLARENCE): Yes, she
is. On that we agree.

Please! Please! I'm a somnambulist!

Uh, is that another word for murderer?

Oh, Camilla. Not again.

(TENSE MUSIC)

This is Dr. Julia Ogden

and she is going to be performing
a psychological assessment.

Oh! Um, I'm not feeble-minded.

No one said you were.

I'm simply here to ensure
that you're of sound mind.

Do those abrasions hurt?

Oh, no, I've... I've grown
accustomed to the straps.

How long have you been sleepwalking?

Since I was 13.

And I don't just walk.

I do all kinds of things in my sleep.

Um, I never remember afterwards,
but I've heard the tales.

Mrs. Grundy, what did your husband mean

when he said, "oh, no,
Camilla. Not again?"

Um, well,

I had a cat and I loved him, but...

I killed him when I was sleepwalking.

- Strangled him with my bare hands.
- Oh, dear.

That's why I started using the straps.

I was afraid I would do more evil.

A man named Orville
Sproul has been killed,

stabbed in the chest.

Witnesses report seeing
a woman dressed in white

wandering near the cemetery.

I don't know anything about that.

Were you wearing your
restraints the night before last?

Oh, um, no. Um, it had just been so long

since there was an incident

and we just thought, um...

Well, um, we were of a mind

to have intimate relations,
so we went without.

I-I don't know that
dead man, poor soul.

I-I don't even know what
you're talking about.

Detective Murdoch, I'd
like a bit of privacy

to further examine Mrs. Grundy.

Of course, Doctor.

I await your assessment.

(MR. PEACH): Please, please,
we demand to see the constable!

(HIGGINS): We're surrounded
by constables. Pick one.

Not just any constable.
It has to be him!

There he is!

We need you, George Crabtree!

Uh, what can I...

- What happened to you?
- He was pushed down

- the basement stairs by the ghost.
- There is no ghost!

There is. I've heard voices at night.

- The floorboards creak.
- There are strange odours.

And what exactly would
you have me do about these

admittedly strange, but also
perfectly explicable, goings-on?

- Investigate!
- Investigate what?

The previous owner of
the building. She died.

- Her name was Gladys Nutter.
- We think she's haunting us.

You need to figure out
how to make her leave.

Do you have a diagnosis?

Camilla Grundy is a somnambulist.

Sleepwalking is a legitimate phenomenon.

So, you believe she murdered
Orville Sproul in her sleep?

Well, I'm not willing to speculate.

Frankly, it would be unethical for me

to further discuss the private
health concerns of a patient.

Patient?

Yes. I've decided to serve

as Mrs. Grundy's personal physician.

And I believe I also know who
her personal lawyer will be.

(SIGHS)

(HIGGINS EXHALES)

And how goes the mighty ghost hunter?

Well, I'm trying to
remain objective, Henry.

I mean, these people need help. I
can't very well ignore them entirely.

I'll look through a few
records, shuffle a few papers.

The least I can do is give the
appearance of making an effort.

What have you got so far?

Gladys Nutter's death certificate,

which gives the date of her death,

the place of interment,

Wisteria Grove Necropolis,

- but doesn't provide cause of death.
- Hm.

Thank you very much for coming in.

Identifying Mrs. Grundy
as the woman you saw

in your cemetery will
help our case tremendously.

Glad to help, Detective.

Excuse me, sir?

You're the caretaker at Wisteria
Grove Necropolis, aren't you?

I am. Gary Cardinal.

Constable George
Crabtree. I'm investigating

a-a case that involves a
woman buried in your cemetery.

There are hundreds buried there.

- Her name is Gladys Nutter.
- Aww.

You won't find Mrs. Nutter's
grave in my cemetery.

- No? It says here...
- You won't find it because it's unmarked,

like all the graves of suicides.

I make it my business to remember them

because no one else does.

She killed herself?

God rest her soul.

Hanged herself in her basement.

There's no gravestone,

but I planted a pine
tree there in her memory.

Well, thank you, sir.

Hanged herself.

In the basement,

which is where the bookseller
was shoved down the stairs.

Henry, you know what this means?

Dear God. It is a ghost.

(CHUCKLING)

Ugh...

You're so very sure that you're right.

Why would Mrs. Grundy...

... return home and remove
all evidence of her crime

if she wasn't conscious
of what she had done?

Well, I disagree. There
are numerous documented

cases of people doing
bizarre things in their sleep.

Preparing elaborate meals,

jumping out of windows
and attacking loved ones.

Mrs. Grundy's actions seem
planned and deliberate.

Which is why I will be
testifying on behalf of the crown.

Well, sleepwalking has been
deemed a legitimate defense

for other murder suspects

and it should be no
different for Mrs. Grundy,

which is why I will be
testifying for the defense.

(TANGO MUSIC ON PIANO)

Effie, are you ready to learn the tango?

I was born ready, George.

Now, slow, slow.

Quick, quick, slow.

I have to admit, I'm a bit nonplussed.

I promised myself I wasn't going
to get lured into this case.

Now I find myself flirting
with the paranormal again.

- Left foot slide.
- Left foot slide. Oh, sorry.

I'm feeling a bit frazzled myself.

Not sure how I'm going to pull
off this sleepwalking defense.

Mrs. Crabtree, you know
you're going to win this case.

Thank you, Mr. Crabtree.

Now, regrettably, I must
cut this lesson short.

I have lots to prepare
for tomorrow. Big day.

Somnambulism has clear legal precedent,

having been successfully argued
in at least two prior cases.

It is my intention
to prove to this court

that Mrs. Camilla
Grundy was sleepwalking

on the night of Orville Sproul's death

and is therefore not
criminally responsible.

Thank you.

The prosecution has the floor.

Thank you, Your Honour. (CLEARS THROAT)

Esteemed members of the jury,

the, uh, crown will not
insult your intelligence

by addressing my learned
friend's claims of somnambulism.

Instead, we will call to the
stand our first expert witness,

Detective William Murdoch.

Detective Murdoch,

Mrs. Grundy has claimed
she never met the deceased.

Do you dispute that claim?

I do.

And why is that?

My search of the police records

has revealed that last year,

Mr. Sproul reported Mrs. Grundy

to the Toronto Constabulary
for shoplifting.

Reporting on a shoplifting?

And would you consider
that motive for murder?

I've known people to kill for less.

No further questions.

Your Honour, the defense
requests a recess.

Granted.

(PEOPLE MURMURING)

Why did you conceal the fact
that you knew Mr. Sproul?

Because it looks bad that
he reported me to the police.

You're right. It gives the appearance

- you wanted revenge.
- No. No, not at all.

When I told him that I needed
the leather for the restraints,

he withdrew the charge.

Orville was a kind man.

Did you and he become friends?

He said he would make the
restraining device for me

if I would just sit and
read Walt Whitman to him.

Walt Whitman, the poet?

Mm-hmm. And Oscar Wilde and Rossetti.

We'd spend hours reading
and chatting while he worked.

He was a sensitive, artistic soul.

I take it your
relationship was platonic.

Oh, completely.

I love my husband.

And, um...

Well, I don't really think
that Mr. Sproul fancied ladies.

We were just friends.

(SNIFFLING)

He was a good friend.

(SNIFFLING) I think
I've killed my friend.

(CRABTREE): Do you think Mrs.
Grundy will be found guilty, sir?

If rational minds prevail.

How is your investigation coming along?

Sir, I believe the
ghost of Gladys Nutter

is terrorizing the building's tenants.

(SOFTLY): The world has gone mad.

Beg pardon, sir?

I thought you were attempting a
more rational approach this time?

Yes, sir. Indeed, I
am. That's why I've come

to ask for your help in
proving this scientifically.

I have in my possession
an ingenious invention

given me by my father-in-law,

which can detect the presence
of otherworldly beings.

The use of your night vision
camera would be very useful.

- Is that right?
- Yes. And,

uh, what's that, uh, ballo... bolo...

- Bolometer.
- What does that detect exactly?

Infrared heat.

Yes. That would be very useful, as well.

Unless, I suppose it's possible

that ghosts don't generate body heat.

In fact, most people report feeling
a cold chill as a ghost walks by.

I suppose I could calibrate it

to detect lower than
normal body temperatures.

Sir! Splendid! I accept your offer.

You accept... ? I...

All right, George. Yes.

- All in the name of science.
- Excellent!

I just don't understand why you
didn't tell me that Mr. Sproul

had reported Mrs. Grundy for stealing.

As an officer of the law,

I am not obliged to help
defense attorneys win cases.

(SCOFFS)

Why are you so sure that
Mrs. Grundy is a killer?

Julia, I do not wish to fight with you.

You should be aiming
your ire at Camilla Grundy

for lying to you about her
association with the victim.

She had her reasons for
lying, although misguided.

I'm sure she also had her
reasons for claiming amnesia.

Somnambulism!

Not amnesia, William!

Call it what you will.

It's all deception.

Oh!

(TANGO MUSIC ON PIANO)

Slow, slow.

Quick, quick, slow.

I can't believe I neglected
to look into the police files.

I was too focused on
that sleepwalking defense.

Effie, it's a small obstacle

that you're going to work through.

I'm sure you're going to win this case.

- You really think so?
- Yes, I'm sure of it.

Just as I'm sure I'm
about to come face to face

with the supernatural.

So you're leaving?

Effie, I have to. Detective
Murdoch is tuning the bolometer

so he can help me scientifically
prove that ghosts exist.

That's wonderful, darling.

I love you, Mrs. Crabtree.

I...

... love you, Mr. Crabtree.

(DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES)

(WHIRRING)

Right then. Miss Driscoll,
you take this device.

This can detect the presence of ghosts,

phantoms, non-humans in general.

Ah, Mr. Peach, you take
the night vision camera.

This can photograph things

even hidden in the darkness.

Mr. Bland, you keep an
eye on the Ouija board.

The dead might try to communicate
with us through this. And I...

... will operate the bolometer,

which can reveal...

Invisible entities.

Right then. If we're
ready, let's get on with it.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

(DEVICES WHIRRING)

We are here...

To contact the spirit

of Gladys Nutter.

Spirit, please reveal yourself.

(SNIFFING)

Do you smell that?

A woodsy scent, like pine needles.

Pine?

Gladys Nutter has a pine tree

instead of the headstone at her grave.

(GASPING)

Gladys Nutter,

are you here with us? Give us a sign!

(THUDDING)

(GASPING)

(THUDDING)

(CREAKING)

(RUMBLING)

(THUDDING)

(ELDERLY WOMAN): Get out of my house!

Get out of my house.

Get out of my house!

Oh.

Good lord.

Ah, check your instruments.

Oh my God.

That's her.

We have her.

Wait 'til Detective Murdoch sees this.

Mr. Cardinal,

describe what you witnessed
on the night in question.

I was enjoying the moonlight

after doing my rounds,

and then I saw her.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

(WOMAN MURMURING SOFTLY)

(HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER)

(SIGHS)

What are you looking at?

She was wandering around,

muttering to herself

and staring with empty eyes.

Now, do these seem to
be the actions of someone

in control of their own capacities?

Or, rather, someone
who's stumbling about

in the wilderness of
their own unconscious mind?

Now, Mr. Hall, you left
the tavern around midnight?

The witching hour. I-I did indeed.

I see. And can you tell us

what happened as you were
driving along Shadd Cary Bend?

(MR. HALL): I turned a corner

and there she was
lingering by the cemetery,

her gown was pure white,

white as the driven snow.

And then...

(THUDDING)

(TIRES SKID)

(JUDGE): Cross-examination, Counselor?

Mr. Hall, you state that Mrs.
Grundy's gown was pure white,

- white as the driven snow.
- 'Twas.

Ghostly and-and gleaming
in the... in the...

Under the full moon.

And you spotted her immediately before

you ran over Mr.
Sproul, is that correct?

He was already dead. The
body was lying in the road.

The crown suggests that Mrs.
Grundy stabbed Mr. Sproul

just before he was run over by Mr. Hall.

Now, if that is the case,

then how did Mrs. Grundy
manage to keep her gown

"pure white, white as the driven snow,"

after she allegedly
stabbed a man to death?

Objection! Your Honour, a
drunkard's hazy recollection

about the colour of a woman's frock

can hardly be deemed reliable testimony.

Two witnesses have placed
Camilla Grundy at the scene

of Orville Sproul's murder.

Why else would she have been
there without nefarious intent?

Your Honour, I intended to ask
Mrs. Grundy this exact question

while she is under hypnosis.

In order to retrieve Mrs.
Grundy's recollections

of the night in question,

Dr. Ogden will be hypnotizing her.

Now, if we could please clear
the gallery and dim the lights.

(MURMURING)

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

(JULIA): You feel warm and safe.

You're awake, but calm.

Your eyes growing heavy

as I count down.

Three.

Two.

One.

Now, you're walking
through the graveyard

on a full-moon night.

Tell me what you see.

(SOFT EERIE MUSIC)

(WHISPERING): Lucifer.

What's that?

Lucifer.

Oh, Lucifer. Lucifer!

Lucifer! Lucifer!

Order! I demand you end this.

- You will awaken!
- (EFFIE): Your Honour,

may I have a moment
alone with my client?

Step down, Mrs. Grundy.

(SIGHS)

Lucifer was our cat. Our tabby.

And, uh, what became of this cat?

I remind you, Mr. Grundy,
you are under oath.

Camilla killed him.

While she was sleepwalking.

Strangled him with her bare hands.

Uh, please, have mercy
on my good Camilla.

She's a good woman. She's
harmless while she's awake

and-and not responsible for
her actions while asleep.

The prosecution rests.

The court will take a recess.

You may step down, Mr. Grundy.

We need to find some way
to prove that you weren't

in control of your actions that night.

I do have an idea.

How long do you expect the
jury to waste their time

watching this murderer sleep?

We are well aware of how eagerly

you wish to condemn this poor woman,

but the judge has ruled
to allow this process.

You must simply allow it to play out.

(SOFT EERIE MUSIC)

- This proves nothing.
- Patience, Counselor.

Lovely.

(MUTTERING SOFTLY)

(SIGHS)

- Mere play-acting.
- Shh.

You can't really expect
us to believe she's asleep.

(GLASS SHATTERING)

Oh.

- (CRUNCHING)
- Oh, dear God.

(ALL MURMURING)

- Camilla! Wake up!
- (CAMILLA SCREAMING)

Anything further, Counselor?

Uh, no, Your Honour, not at this time.

- (CAMILLA CRYING)
- This court is adjourned.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honour.

We find the defendant, Camilla Grundy...

... not guilty of the
murder of Orville Sproul.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Thank you.

(SNIFFING) Pine needles.

It's the ghost of Gladys Nutter.

Reveal yourself, spirit!

(CREAKING)

(ELDERLY WOMAN): Get out of my house!

Get out of my house!

Sir, I told you!

George.

Perhaps the addition

of radio frequency to the bolometer...

(KNOCKING)

... has enabled it to, uh...

Enabled it to see
what's behind the wall.

(ELDERLY WOMAN): Get
out of my house, get out!

- Oh! (SPRAYING)
- (COUGHING)

Pine needles.

Your name is Perry Solano?

It is.

How did you end up living behind
the walls of Mr. Peach's building?

It's Mrs. Nutter's building, not his.

You knew Gladys Nutter?

Very well.

She wanted to rent out her
building, so she hired me

to convert it into three
separate businesses.

You then took it upon yourself

to torment the residents after she died.

She promised she'd leave
me the property in her will.

I was like a son to her.

So, what, she went back on her word?

The will was never found.

So the city sold off my property.

It's not your property.

I know that building better than anyone.

Climbing behind the walls,

searching for the missing will at night.

But you never found it,

so you decided to scare the
residents out of the building.

It was a brilliant plan.

And when I heard that the famous writer

Constable George
Crabtree was on the case,

I knew my plan would work.

I've heard you believe in all
sorts of otherworldly things.

I suppose I should congratulate you

on Mrs. Grundy's acquittal.

Yes, you should.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Even if...

Mrs. Grundy was sleepwalking

when she murdered Orville Sproul,

shouldn't there be consequences?

Well, you're entitled to your beliefs.

There has to be something I've missed.

Let it go.

There's something about
Mrs. Grundy's relationship

- with Orville Sproul.
- (SCOFFS)

What led him to the graveyard

at that time of night
in the first place?

And how did she happen to
be there at the same time?

You're torturing yourself.

(SIGHS) Perhaps you just need to accept

that you're not always right.

(PLAYFUL MUSIC)

Yes, hello, operator.

Detective Llewellyn Watts
on Maitland Street, please.

(DISTANT LAUGHING)

Here's the last of the evidence

retrieved from Orville
Sproul's residence.

Thank you, Watts.

I realize my late-night request
for help is highly unusual.

Mm, yes, considering the
case has already been tried.

I simply cannot rid
my mind of the feeling

that there is more to this
murder than meets the eye.

I could help you if I knew
what you were looking for.

Ooh, Oscar Wilde.

Therein lies the rub, Detective.

I have no idea.

Well, what if I return home?

_

She set the entire thing up.

D-D-Don't do this! I-I-I love you!

Confess, you heartless bastard. Confess!

Tell me.

No, Camilla, stop. Please!

You let me think that I killed her cat.

But I remembered in the courtroom

when I saw that pocket watch swinging.

You killed Lucifer. You strangled him

with your watch chain! Admit it!

(CLARENCE): I-I confess! I did it. I...

You loved that cat more than me and I...

And Orville?

You killed him, too, didn't you?

Confess!

Mrs. Grundy, stop.

You sent the note to
Orville Sproul, didn't you?

It was you who sent the message.

Answer me, or I will let
your wife finish her business.

I thought they were having an affair.

So I got rid of him.

I knew they wouldn't
convict you, Camilla.

Mr. Grundy, you are under arrest

for the murder of Orville Sproul.

Morning, Mr. Solano!

Morning, Constable!

You're still here?

The store owners agreed
to drop all charges

if I repair the damage I caused

and do some building maintenance.

It's not much of a job. Do it again.

There's a creaky floorboard in my shop.

As soon as I'm done
here, I'll head on over.

I'll catch my death if you
don't seal these drafty windows!

Mr. Solano, I believe you
fared better a phantom.

(CLICKING)

(WHIRRING)

(UPBEAT TANGO MUSIC PLAYS)

A toast to my brilliant wife.

And to my delightful husband.

Congratulations on
winning your case, Effie.

Congratulations on
solving yours, George.

Mrs. Crabtree?

Mr. Crabtree?

(♪♪)

- Constable.
- Oh.

(THEME MUSIC)

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