Original subtitles

- Ah...

- And, finally, here he is, the great man himself.

Detective, please let me introduce you

to Nigella Fletcher. She is my third cousin

twice removed, or something like that.

- Second cousin thrice removed, actually.

- Oh. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Miss. Sadly unmarried,

but please let me say, assuredly,

the pleasure is all mine.

Your renown stretches right across the pond

and back again. - Oh. Thank you.

Thank you. And what brings you all the way to Toronto?

- She's an author! (laughing)

- Nigella has written a penny dreadful.

- Mm-hmm. - Oh, Tommy,

hardly a penny dreadful.

It is a proper novel,

and despite the, uh, subject matter.

- Which is? - Why, murder of course.

- Oh, I'm sure you'll be interested.

- Nigella is on a speaking tour promoting her book,

so I said I'd show her the finest police station

in all the colonies. - I'm hoping to set a novel

in your fair city.

- Hm. And who better than to show Miss Fletcher

the inner workings of the Toronto Constabulary

than the great detective himself, William Murdoch?

And on that note, I shall take my lovely wife to lunch.

- Oh! Well, we're not going to that dreadful public house,

are we? - There's nothing wrong with

Ryan's hotpot. Au revoir!

(Margarent): All right. Au revoir.

- Well, Detective Murdoch, I am your humble student.

Oh! And would you do me the honour o-of signing this?

I really enjoyed your book. It has given me numerous ideas.

Uh, just let me get a pen.

So you're saying science is a better determinate of guilt

than looking someone in the eye?

- The eyes can lie. Science never does.

- Yeah, but it's not infallible. - True, but it can help

to determine the direction one's investigation should take.

- Well, that's interesting. Yeah, but what if--

(phone ringing) - Excuse me.

- Oh.

- Detective Murdoch.

Yes. Yes, of course. I'll be right there.

Henry? (Henry): Uh, yes, sir?

- Miss Fletcher, allow me to introduce you

to Henry Higgins-Newsome, one of our finest constables.

- Oh. Well, thank you, sir. I do what I can.

- Then please be so kind and show Miss Fletcher

the ins and outs of your complex work.

- Oh. All right. - Right.

- Well. - It's no easy job

being a police constable, let me tell you.

The road is often fraught with danger.

- Well, you look well able to handle it.

- Oh, thank you. Yes. I remember one time I was--

(indistinct chatter)

(woman sobbing)

(indistinct chatter)

(sobbing)

- Hello. Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

- I...

(sobbing)

- Detective.

Ralph Wells.

Mr. Addison is in there.

- Thank you.

Gentlemen. Thank you. I'll take it from here.

(soft tense music)

(footsteps running)

- I'm with the detective.

- Miss Fletcher, please. This is a crime scene.

- Then this is indeed my lucky day.

(theme music)

- Please don't touch anything.

- Of course.

Ooh.

- A-anything. - Oh.

- Where is Constable Higgins?

- Oh, I lost him about an hour ago,

wasn't much to it. Your desk sergeant

very helpfully told me where you were,

so I thought I'd come to where the action is.

- Well, now you've seen it.

- What, you want me to go? - Yes.

- But-- - Please.

(Joe): Teddy. Teddy Roberts!

- Joe!

- Finally.

This is the last station house on my list.

I-I thought I'd never find you.

- What are you doing here?

- I came to visit my friend in the big city.

- What about your farm? - Fields weren't ready

for planting, so I thought, hey! I got a friend in Toronto.

Maybe I should come and see this place for myself.

So, show me around! - I, uh, can't. I'm on shift.

- Later then? - Sure.

- Do you mind if I just, uh, leave this here?

I'm going to go kick around for a few hours.

- Uh, you going to be all right?

- Yeah. What, you think the big city's gonna eat me up?

You don't need to be worried about Joe Enns.

He knows how to handle himself.

Teddy.

- So what part of full cooperation

didn't you understand? - Sir?

- I heard you told Nigella to leave you alone.

- Not in so many words, but she was interfering

with our investigation. - She simply wants

to learn from you. I promised her that you would cooperate.

- Oh, I'm sure it was a misunderstanding.

Here, Detective, I've got something for you.

- What is it? - Well, as best as I can reckon,

a full list of all who attended Mr. Addison's retirement party.

Mr. Wells provided it after you threw me out of the office.

- See that, Murdoch. A Brackenreid,

possibly somewhere down the line.

(chuckling)

- Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me.

- Where're you going? - To the morgue, sir.

- Well, take Nigella with you.

She may as well get a look at the nitty-gritty.

- I like nitty-gritty.

- So what specialized training do you have, Miss Hart?

- I have a medical degree.

But most of what I gleaned is from working

with that man there.

And his wife, of course.

- Oh, yes, the-the former coroner.

- Hm. - Still, quite the position.

A real achievement for a woman like yourself.

- What have you Miss Hart?

- He was killed with a small-bore weapon,

likely a 22-calibre.

- Do you think it could be self-inflicted?

- Possible. Detective, take a look at this.

- I-if you would excuse me?

- Oh! Sorry. Yes.

- There are traces of fabric found in the wound.

- Hm... - That explains it.

The gun must have been wrapped in it.

Therefore no one heard the shot,

especially if the party was quite raucous.

Don't you think? - Very good. Thank you.

- Hm. Well, I suppose those who can't do, write.

(chuckling)

So, what's the next step, Detective?

- Ah, well, in the morning I shall be interviewing

all those who were present at the party.

- In the morning? - Yes.

- Oh! That's excellent.

You can attend my reading tonight.

- Oh.

- "Amelia Turnbury

and Janet Maloney

were the dearest of friends.

They had known each other since childhood

and grew up in harmony

despite the difference in both their class and religion.

Amelia was to the manner born,

or at least she carried herself as such,

whilst Janet would never have been given the chance

to rise above the station her religion permitted.

...and it was on that cold November day

Janet went missing."

(chuckling)

(applause)

- I'm not sure how much more I want to hear of this.

- Oh, don't be daft, Margaret. It's just a work of fiction.

I know she's a relative, but she's pretty good, eh?

Even though I say so myself. Hm.

- She does have a keen eye for detail.

- Thank you. (Brackenreid): Most women do,

and it's bloody annoying. - Thomas!

(chuckling)

- Why don't you let her sit in on your interviews?

(curious music)

- You think that's a good idea?

- Well, you've just said yourself she's got a keen eye.

Let's see what her hearing's like.

(indistinct chatter)

- Well, if he killed himself,

he denied everyone else the pleasure.

- I take it he was not well-liked.

- He was a liar.

He promised me a partnership.

I waited for him to retire;

thought I'd hear the magic words. Nothing.

- And that made you angry?

- Uh, Miss Nigella Fletcher.

She's assisting me on this.

- Well, Miss Fletcher, of course that made me angry.

But I wouldn't kill him. I don't believe anyone

at the firm would have done that.

Besides, we were in the outer office

celebrating his retirement. - Did no one hear the gunshot?

- No. - And you didn't see anyone

go into his office?

- We were having a party.

Nobody was paying rapt attention to comings and goings.

- You said no one at the firm would kill him.

Now, can you say the same for his clients?

- Oh-ho. Mr. Addison had his share of enemies.

- Who are they? - Who are th--

- Well, the last one to openly threaten him was Adam Burke.

- Well, that is a shame.

Trevor was looking forward to retiring.

- You were friends?

- We were good friends before his wife died.

After that, he became bitter, unpleasant to be around.

- I see. You were overheard uttering threats.

- No reason to lie about that.

Our last conversation was an angry one.

- Ooh, what happened?

- You're that writer, aren't you? Nigella Fletcher.

- I am. - My wife was at

your reading last night. She said your book was a corker.

- Oh! Well, tell her thank you for me.

- If we could, um...

Uh, what were you and Mr. Addison arguing about?

- He was representing me in a real estate deal

and he cheated me.

- How so?

- Found out after the fact he was working both sides,

buyer and seller.

- Well, isn't that illegal? - It is if it's not disclosed.

Trevor made out like a bandit.

Overvalued the property, as well.

I paid much more than I should have.

So, yes, I was angry.

But I wasn't at the party last night

and I certainly didn't kill him.

- I take it you can confirm your whereabouts?

- I certainly can.

Now, can I ask you:

when is your next novel coming out?

- Oh! Well, it's just in the plotting stage

at the moment. And that's why I'm here.

I'm actually thinking of, um, setting it in-in Toronto.

- No! - Well, I--

(horse neighing)

(indistinct chatter)

- Henry, did a man named Joe Enns call in last night?

- Yes, he was wondering where you were.

- Why didn't you tell me? - You weren't around.

- Did he say where he might be?

- I'm not your secretary, Roberts.

Are you worried about him? - Well, he's a trusting fellow.

- And in this city? It's good reason to worry.

- Uh, excuse me. I need to talk to Detective Murdoch.

- I'll take you to him. And thank you, Henry.

This way.

- She was one step up from a dolly-mop.

- So that was Mr. Addison's private secretary?

- Samantha Leon.

And if that's what you want to call it, go ahead.

He took her on shortly after his wife died two years ago.

- Why would this Miss Leon want to kill Mr. Addison?

- Well, he finally came to his senses and fired her.

She threatened to kill him.

Seems she's made good on it.

(tense music)

- Why are you not interviewing Miss Leon?

- We will, in time, but for now,

we are returning to the scene of the crime.

- But why when we know who the criminal is?

- We don't. All we have is an accusation.

And every moment that the examination

of physical evidence is delayed,

the more chance there is for error.

- Oh. I see.

- And I've now received new information about the crime.

(mysterious music)

(Miss Berger): He said he was a friend of yours.

- So you threw him in the cells?

- It's what's done to those found drunk and disorderly,

friend of the police of not.

- Are you going to charge him?

- I should, but I'll let it pass.

This time.

- Thank you.

(Roberts sighs)

(snoring)

(knocking on bars)

Joe! Wake up.

- Oh, Teddy.

(groaning)

(sighs) You all right?

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Now that was a whale of a night. (chuckling)

- All right, let's get you out and cleaned up.

- This city's sure got a lot to offer.

I could take a big bite out of it.

- Hm. Looks like it bit you back. Let's go.

- A lady copper?

Now I've seen everything.

- Up and out, Joe!

- Hold your horses. Do you know her?

(inaudible conversation)

- I do.

- Is she taken? (Roberts sighs)

(device whirring softly)

- What ya doing?

- There is obviously blood on the desk,

but I'm endeavouring to find traces of it elsewhere,

which could point to the killer's next steps.

But there is nothing.

- The painting.

What about it?

- It's askew.

(mysterious music)

It's empty.

- How much money was in there?

- I-I don't know.

- Who else was aware of this safe's existence?

- Uh, only me,

Mr. Addison and the trollop.

Have you spoken to her yet?

- By all accounts she wasn't at the party.

- That's true.

But she very well could have been in this office.

Take a look at this.

- Now. Now, that is clever.

- It leads to the street.

Mr. Addison had it built years ago

when his wife was still alive.

It gave whomever he was entertaining

a chance to make a hasty exit

if Mrs. Addison were ever to arrive unexpectedly.

- Ah!

Excellent.

- So what happens now?

- Constables will look into the backgrounds

of each of the employees at Mr. Addison's firm

and then they will also compare their fingermarks

to those that were found on the safe.

- And if they don't match?

- We'll then look at the fingermarks

of known criminals in police database.

- Tedious work.

- But necessary. Right.

- Oh. Uh, where are we now?

- Miss Samantha Leon's current place of employment,

the Dart and Dagger. - Oh.

(door opens)

- What can I say? He made promises to me

he never kept. Of course I hated him.

(Miss Fletcher): So you weren't troubled by his death?

- He fired me and look where I am now.

- Oh, so this is his fault?

I used to work behind a bar

and I would've never let it get to this state.

- Miss Fletcher, please.

- Of course it's his fault!

He promised to take care of me. - Oh!

Men rarely tell the truth

when a lie could always get them what they want.

Look, if someone had betrayed me like Mr. Addison betrayed you,

I would have done the same thing.

- Miss Fletcher, I must insist, please.

- Sorry, Detective.

- Miss Leon, your fingermarks

are a match for some of those found on Mr. Addison's

private safe. Care to explain?

- After he fired me, I snuck into his office.

You do know about his secret passage?

- I do. - Well, I used it to get hold

of the money he had promised me.

But he had changed the combination.

- So you returned later, and in a fit of rage,

you killed him. Oh, it's certainly

what I would have done. - Well, I am not you,

and unlike you, I do have time for my ship to come in.

- Oh, just admit it. You killed him--

- Miss Fletcher, that is enough.

(clears throat)

Thank you for your time and, uh, my apologies.

- I'm sorry. I thought if I pressed her,

she'd blurt out something useful. I apologize.

It's just so thrilling working next to you.

I endeavour to be better in the future.

But is it not true...

that a gambit like that works from time to time?

- And sometimes it just serves to scare them off.

This is my...

This is a police investigation. Not yours.

- Uh, understood.

"I had watched Amelia Turnbury

and Janet Malone for some time.

The two were arrogant and insufferable.

Janet had recently rebuffed my advances

and Amelia mocked me relentlessly.

The two spend hours in the pub drinking for free

off the kindness of the desperate men.

But I had no interest

in being one of those men.

I wished to be God."

(applause)

(indistinct chatter)

And if you would like to know what happened next,

this fine establishment has multiple copies

of my volume available.

(Miss Fletcher laughing)

- Miss Fletcher, I've read your book numerous times.

- Oh. Thank you.

- And numerous times you adopt

the persona of the killer.

Was there a reason for that?

- Uh... Oh!

I think it's important as a writer

to identify with all your characters.

Um... suspect, victim, and killer.

- Oh. And how do you do that?

- Well, it's not that hard.

Uh, for example, have you ever imagined

killing someone who's done you harm?

- Oh. More than once. (laughing)

Oh, not you, dear.

- Then all you have to do

is turn your imaginings into reality.

Oh! On paper, of course.

(all laughing)

(tense music)

(phones ringing)

- Constable Roberts.

I need you to find out all you can

about an Iris and Adam Burke.

He's a real estate agent.

- You think they were involved in the murder of that lawyer?

- They're persons of interest.

- Right away, sir.

- So, Murdoch, how is my third cousin

twice removed working out?

- Well, she certainly has the Brackenreid blood in her.

(Brackenreid): You say that like it's a bad thing.

- Miss Berger. How are you faring?

- Well, let's just say, now I've seen everything.

- How's that? - A man your friend

was found gambling with thinks one of the people

at the table stole twenty dollars off him.

- So, a criminal in the act of committing a crime

is reporting a crime against him.

- That's about the sum of it.

You know, sometimes I do miss the country.

- Well, the country isn't all sunshine and light.

- So, she's been harassing a suspect.

Can't say that's something we've not done.

- Yes, but we are police officers, she is not.

- Mm. I have to say, though, it's a shame that there are no

female coppers on the job. (clearing throat)

A morality officer is not a copper.

- I see. And why is it a shame?

- Well, if a woman is giving you the gears,

it wouldn't take long before you would confess to anything

just to get her to turn off the tap.

- Sir? - It was a joke. I was joking.

But I do admit, sometimes you women see things

that us men are too thick to see.

- That's better.

(chuckling)

- Anyway, uh, Murdoch, I want to thank you

for all your efforts. It won't be much longer.

She'll be leaving soon. - Understood.

Uh, sir, you weren't at the reading last night.

- It was darts night at Ryans.

I wouldn't miss that just for someone reading a book,

relative or no relative.

- Detective Murdoch?

A Miss Samantha Leon just called. She needs you.

(tense music)

- Oh, don't worry. She's not dead.

It's amazing the skills one can pick up

when one takes a new job.

- What happened?

- She came in here, all full of fire,

accused me of murder.

Said a woman like me is a disgrace to all women.

I asked her to please leave me alone,

and when she didn't, I did this.

(groaning softly)

- Ah, the rovers return.

Ha. Heard you had a spot of bother. You all right?

- I thought if I talked to her, woman-to-woman,

well, she'd reveal something.

- Well, she revealed a kosh from behind the bar.

- Something I wish I had been aware of.

Look, what I did was wrong, Detective,

and I-I sincerely apologize.

- Yes. But it wasn't the first time.

- Sometimes I get carried away.

(sighs) - Nigella, go home.

Margaret's waiting for you. - But--

- Let the detective do his job.

So this Miss Leon?

- Well, sir, she might be involved.

But I fear Miss Fletcher's actions have made her wary.

- I'll get her off your back.

- Sir. Looked into the backgrounds of both

Mr. and Mrs. Burke. - And?

- Nothing out of the ordinary and both can account

for their whereabouts of when Mr. Addison was killed.

- Mm. Very good. Thank you.

- Uh, may I take an early lunch?

I'm hoping to meet a friend from back home.

- Yes. Of course. - Thank you.

- How is young Roberts fitting in?

- Quite well, actually.

I feel he may be bound for better things.

- It's a shame his colour will hold him back.

(soft music)

(sighs)

(door opens)

(door close) - Well, look at you.

- What do you think? Pretty swish.

- Definitely swish.

How were you able to afford that?

- Here's the thing. I woke up in the cells,

found there was 20 dollars in my pocket.

- You didn't know you had $20?

- Well, I did a bit of gambling with a couple fellas last night

and I guess I won. (chuckling)

- You guess? - Things got a little hazy

as the night wore on.

Enough about my good fortune.

Tell me a bit about that morality officer.

(sighs) - She's quite proper.

I doubt that she'd be interested in you,

uh, no offense.

- Uh-huh.

We'll see about that.

- Hey, I thought we were having lunch?!

- Sorry, Teddy. Froggie's going courting.

- Before you go, uh, sit. Please. Please.

So, one of the men you were gambling with

says someone stole 20 dollars out of their pocket.

- Oh! Huh.

Yeah, it's a shame.

What about it?

- Well, I just think it's funny

that you found 20 dollars.

- Let me tell you, Teddy,

Joe Enns is a lot of things,

not all of them good, but he ain't no thief.

- Yeah. Right. I apologize.

(mysterious music)

(distant horse neighing)

(indistinct chatter)

- Well, no murder is undetectable.

Given time, forensic evidence will reveal any method of death.

- Mm. - But just because you find

the method, does not mean to say you found the perpetrator.

- Well, that's Detective Murdoch's job.

Fortunately, he's very good at it.

(chuckling)

- You must have seen some horrible things.

- Oh, I have! Last week, I examined a man with a--

- Um, let's keep our talk of the grotesque for the morgue,

shall we? Perhaps we could talk about the weather, or...

- Well, would you look at that.

Hm. Somebody's enjoying a shopping spree.

- And at the most expensive shop in town, no less.

Thomas makes me cover my eyes when we walk by.

- Now, that woman is a suspect in Mr. Addison's murder

and apparently, a very large amount of money

was stolen from Mr. Addison's firm.

- And walking out of the most expensive shop in town?

(gasps) - You think she's a killer?

- I certainly think it's possible.

- Oh!

- Miss Fletcher.

- Um, before you start,

Tommy has spoken to me and I do realize

I have been an unnecessary burden.

Oh! My book. Have you been enjoying it?

- More than I thought I would, yes.

What can I do for you?

- I saw Miss Leon

exiting Madame Pomoray's dress shop.

- Is that right? - Mm. Well,

I did wonder.

I mean, how could she afford to shop there?

I'm just a concerned citizen

providing the police with some information.

(phone ringing)

- Detective Murdoch.

Yes. I'll be right there.

Do you promise to stay out of my way?

(sighs)

(knocking at door) (Joe): Teddy! Teddy!

(Roberts): Joe.

- Teddy.

- Decided to spend some time with your old friend?

What's wrong? - Couple of men following me.

- Men? What men? - I don't know. Might've been

a couple of the fellows I was playing cards with.

- Might have? - You know, it's a-a bit foggy.

Teddy, let me in, please. I think I'm in trouble.

- All right.

(ominous music)

- Looks like he's not the only one.

(suspenseful music)

- Somebody must have followed her back from the shop

and robbed her.

- Well, that's one theory.

- I suppose so, but if she did kill

Mr. Addison, then she got what she deserved.

Is-is that from the law firm?

- It appears to be. - So, I was right

about her all along.

(ominous music)

- Here it is.

- Same calibre bullet that killed Mr. Addison.

- Coincidence?

- What do you think, Miss Hart?

- The more time I spend in here,

the less inclined I am to believe in them.

- So she killed Mr. Addison,

and then someone used the same weapon to kill her.

Wouldn't you say so, Detective?

- I would not. - What would you say?

- I would say that there is something terribly convenient

about all of this.

- Hm. - Miss Hart.

- Oh!

Ah, well, Detective, I shall await the time

you come to the same conclusion that I have.

- You sound very certain of that.

(chuckling)

- It's, uh, it's my final reading tonight.

Will you be there?

- I will endeavour to attend.

- Detective.

Your telegram from Doctor Ogden has arrived.

- Thank you, Paul.

(soft music)

Oh!

Right. And I would like to send another, please.

- Yes, sir.

(Miss Fletcher): "Amelia was beside herself.

Her dearest friend had been missing for over three days,

and the police did nothing.

It only strengthened her belief that the life

of a young woman meant nothing to the powers that be.

But Amelia could not accept the fact

that her best friend was dead.

She knew she was out there somewhere, suffering.

And at that moment,

Amelia did something

she knew the police would never do.

Dedicate her life

to finding the fiend

who had killed her friend,

all the while afraid

that she herself may be the next victim."

(gasps)

(applause)

Now, you can rest assured

that though my character holds the police in very low regard...

(crowd chuckling) ...that is certainly

not the case for the author.

I have been fortunate to have borne witness

to the skills and acumen

of the great Detective Murdoch.

(applause)

And I have been more than a simple witness.

In fact, we are well on the way

of solving a dastardly murder case in this fair city.

(crowd murmuring)

(Roberts): What are you doing in my home?

- I'm thirsty. And he's got our money.

- I didn't take your money.

- Never said you did. (Roberts): Then what?

- Rick here stole the money at the poker game,

left it in your coat pocket by accident.

- That doesn't make any sense.

- I was three sheets, thought his coat was mine,

so hand it over.

- I can't.

- Why?

- I spent it.

- You little weasel. - Ah!

- You step away from him. - It's not your business.

- It sure is. I'm a police constable.

- You're a copper.

(snorting)

That's rich.

- Leave now or you're in trouble.

- We'll leave when we get what we're owed.

- Strip off those glad rags.

- Teddy?

- We're getting something out of this.

- I don't think you have a choice, Joe.

Do what the man says. - Uh, uh?

(footsteps approaching)

- Sir. - What have you, Henry?

- I found nothing. All of the employees at Addison

are accounted for and none of them have ever been

found guilty of any wrongdoing.

It may have been that secretary all along, sir.

- Don't be so sure. - Miss Fletcher.

- I know you told me to stay out of it,

but I think I've found something of interest.

- Thank you, Henry.

What have you found?

- Something your constable didn't.

- And what's that?

- Well, your suspicion

that this was not a random robbery

got me thinking.

Now, could this attack be by someone

who knew that Miss Leon stole the money?

- Someone known to her. - Exactly.

- And look at this.

Now it seems that until two years ago,

Miss Daphne Potter did not exist.

- Not exist-- What do you mean?

- There is no record of her existence

before she became an employee at Addison's firm.

- None? - No. There's no record

of previous employment. There's no birth record,

nothing. She is a phantom.

May I come with you?

- I very much doubt I could stop you.

- Oh.

Miss Potter, what are you doing?

- I'm leaving. Simply collecting what is mine.

- And, it appears, some things that are not.

(tense music)

- He was my ex-husband.

No one knew.

- The two of you were divorced,

but you continued to work together?

- Oh, I didn't have a choice.

And he paid me well.

- Why did you tell no one of this?

- Trevor had just started his firm.

He feared that knowledge of our divorce

would hurt his career, so he insisted

that we keep our past relationship a secret.

He also told me I would be well taken care of

when he retired.

- And then Samantha Leon came along.

- She certainly did. - And she stole his heart.

(laughing) - Ah, no.

My husband would have fallen for a turn of the ankle

and a woman of low character. (scoffs)

For two years, I watched them carrying on.

It was humiliating. - Didn't he fire her?

- Oh, it was a ruse.

I saw it as plain as day.

(Addison): Miss Leon, you brought disgrace to this firm!

You're dismissed at once!

(sobbing)

- The steamship tickets were all the proof that I needed.

He was going to leave with her and the money.

That money was mine.

I sat and watched them in humiliation for two years.

He was not going to give it to her.

- She didn't steal the money, did she?

- Well, you know the answer to that.

I went to rub it in her face.

Look what I have.

She was having none of it.

(gunshot)

(body thuds)

So I made it look like a robbery.

- You murdered two people.

- Two people who denied me the life that I deserve.

- Please escort Miss Potter to the cells.

(breathing shakily)

- Sir, telegram you requested just arrived.

(door closes)

- You wanted to see me? - Yes.

- You apprehended Miss Potter.

- I did. - Oh, until I started looking

into Miss Potter's background,

I was convinced that Miss Leon, uh, was the killer.

But you never thought that, did you?

- Well, I found it difficult to believe that deposit slips

would be something that Mr. Addison kept

in his private safe. - And that led you to believe

that they were planted. What about the money?

- What we found in Miss Leon's home

was a paltry sum.

Over $5,000 was stolen,

and we only recovered 50.

Hardly enough to justify murder.

- That's a curious phrase. Does anything justify murder?

- That is a question I wanted to ask you, as an author.

- Hm. Hm. - Please, have a seat.

- I finished your book. - Did you like it?

- I did. I did. - Oh.

- Very much. And you have quite an imagination.

- Well, it is a blessing and a curse.

Sometimes I scare myself with what my mind comes up with.

- I can imagine.

- I mean, sometimes,

I get taken away with my thoughts.

I hardly know what's real and what isn't.

But-but you?

You must be a very strong man to still believe in goodness

after all the nasty business you've seen.

- Oh.

- What's this? - It's a telegram

I received from my wife.

I thought you might find it interesting.

- Why would I think that?

- Well, as you know, from my book,

my wife was a coroner.

She and I worked together to solve hundreds of murders.

She currently resides in England.

- Hm. - In her current position,

she has access to confidential information,

such as coroner's reports.

- Oh, is that right? - Yes.

And, uh, one such coroner's report

looks at the murder

of a Felicity Dowling.

She was murdered in the same town

that you resided in, almost 20 years ago.

- Oh, uh...

I did not know they'd found her body.

- Oh, you knew her? - Well, I knew of her.

I moved away from town just after she disappeared.

In fact, she was the inspiration for my novel.

(tense music)

- I think she was much more than that.

Since you've arrived here in Toronto,

you have come across the bodies of two murder victims.

And in neither case did you show any sign of emotion.

- Perhaps I'm more like you than you would care to imagine.

- I doubt that.

In this particular coroner's report, uh,

the coroner goes into great detail

about Miss Dowling's injuries.

It's very specific.

And these details were only known to the coroner

and the investigating officer.

And, somehow, yourself.

- "The first cut

severed her Achilles tendon.

This rendered her immobile.

I would have all the time I needed.

And the gag provided me

with the silence I desired."

"The second cut, again,

was only to wound.

I took great pains to avoid

all the major arteries.

I wanted her alive as long as possible,

so she could truly pay for what she had done."

- In listening to you, I was struck.

You sounded much less like someone reading,

and more like someone remembering.

- You have no proof.

- No.

But I do now have something that I can offer

the Sheffield police

that they didn't have before.

- And what's that?

- A suspect.

(tense music)

- When did you know?

- The second reading.

- I will say I didn't do it.

- I would expect no less.

But you were right about something you said earlier.

- And what was that?

- Sometimes the eyes don't lie.

(sighs)

(birds chirping)

(indistinct chatter)

- Could have brought my bag to me.

- Could have. - No, instead you want

to parade me around near naked in the-- Oh Lord.

- Everything under control, Constable Roberts?

- It is.

- City treating you well, Mr. Enns?

- I've had better times in my life.

- Cover yourself, or I'll have no choice

but to write you up.

- Still think I have a chance with...?

- No. - Didn't think so.

Are you sweet on her?

You are, aren't you? Okay, I get it,

mates before dates. But if you want my advice...

- Uh, I don't think I'll be taking advice

from a man walking down the street in his BVDs.

(Roberts chuckles)

- And Nigella admits all this?

- She admits to being heartbroken

when Miss Dowling announced her engagement

to a man Miss Fletcher loved.

- And that's motive?

- You know, Thomas, I

never did trust her.

She seemed sort of... ghoulish.

- So, you're charging her with murder?

- Well, no, I can't.

- Then why is she in the cells?

- I'm charging her with

interfering in a police investigation.

- Well, that won't stick.

I all but told her to get involved.

- Yes, but I can keep her in our cells until

a detective from Sheffield arrives.

Justice will be done.

- Well, that's that, then.

- I'm sorry, sir. - Oh, that's all right, Murdoch.

But do me a favour:

next time I have a relative that visits,

please do not arrest them.

Come on, Margaret. (Margaret): Hm.

(theme music)

Subtitling: difuze