Original subtitles

You can't strand me here in Kansas City with him.

The man needs a nanny.

May I remind you that he is my son.

That doesn't negate the fact that he can be ill-mannered...

(Distant shouting) ...and loud!

(Sighing)

Hit me again, beautiful.

Now, why is it we all look gorgeous

when the drinks are free?

Well, I do appreciate your generosity.

Don't thank me.

Distillers Bullington & Clay are footing the bill.

Well, who am I to say no to such largesse?

(Speaking inaudibly)

(Laughing)

Mmm.

Must admit, though,

I am beginning to enjoy certain of Kansas City's charms.

Tonight the whisky's free, but the woman, they'll cost you.

Reinforcements have arrived.

(Patrons cheering)

What's the sour face, Cyril?

Excuse me. I just don't like my whisky being wasted

on a gang of ne'er-do-wells.

Clearly you're not a salesman.

And clearly you are not a businessman.

Drink up, gentlemen.

Life's too short for such petty disagreements.

I just don't like the idea of giving things away for free.

Mister, I couldn't agree with you more.

Kate, I wouldn't have brought you all the way to Kansas City

if I thought you incapable of putting this office

and my son back on the right track.

They go hand in hand. I know, I know, I know.

It's 50 miles of bad road.

But with the proper guidance...

And I thought that was your job, Allan.

I'm going home.

(Door opening)

(Ragtime piano music playing)

(Door closing)

(Laughing)

Mmm.

Come on, let's go. I can't.

Come on. I'm working.

One dance will not hurt you.

(Laughing)

Oh! Hey, hey, fella.

Got a place for you right here, Lizzy.

Just where I like it.

(Sighing)

WILL: Woo!

(Both laughing)

Woo!

Oh, sorry.

(Laughing)

Hey. What?

(Patrons gasping)

MAN: Yeah!

Good morning!

(Patrons whooping)

MAN: Come on!

(Patrons cheering and whistling)

ANNALEE: Will!

Oh!

Oh! (Glass shattering)

(Groaning)

(Woman cheering, whistling)

MAN: Yeah!

(Shouting)

(Poker chips clattering)

(Both grunting)

(Annalee screaming)

No!

Woo!

(Gunshot)

Quiet.

A man's got to get some sleep.

Go on.

(Straining) (Man chuckling)

MAN: Can I buy you a drink?

(Man laughing)

(Feet dragging)

KATE: Partnering with local law enforcement

is a pillar of the Pinkerton code.

I don't need any help.

I can solve this murder on my own.

Come on, sheriff, I've seen you work.

You could use a little help.

Oh, from her?

May we please return to the pressing matter?

Fine.

Liz Evans was the last person seen with Bullington.

All of his money is gone.

All of Liz's belongings are gone.

And so is she.

The truth is screaming loud.

Liz killed Bullington, then robbed him.

You know, I agree with you there, sheriff.

Oh, well, that's a comfort.

I find it wise to assess all of the facts

before stating a theory.

What are you implying?

KATE: Nothing, sheriff.

We're merely here to assure Mrs. Bullington

that justice will be served.

Just remember that it's me who's serving the justice.

Hmm. I thought it was just me that you liked to antagonize.

Whoa.

Weren't you supposed to be on the morning train?

Chicago doesn't need me till Thursday.

I think I'll stick around

and see this through.

Why am I getting the distinct feeling

that you're actually here to keep an eye on us?

ALLAN: We will do everything

in our power

to bring your husband's murderer

to justice, Mrs. Bullington.

Shouldn't this matter remain in the hands of the law?

If we were in Chicago, yes.

But we're in Kansas City, young lad.

That's a small town.

And so discretion is the better part of valour,

as they say.

We do have our reputation to consider.

And we have an excellent record in that regard.

HELENA: Are you absolutely certain

he was in the company of a prostitute?

ALLAN: It appears so.

Were you unaware of your husband's predilection?

My husband was a decent man, Mr. Pinkerton.

Loyal and kind. And far too generous.

That harlot took advantage of his good nature.

Her name was Liz Evans, and...

Oh, you didn't know her, did you?

I've never heard her name.

Nor do I wish to ever again.

In my experience, Mrs. Bullington,

by solving your husband's murder,

you will find a peace of mind.

And will you find this Liz Evans?

I will find your father's murderer.

You can count on that.

Come on, you got paint all over me.

Get up.

You enjoyed that, didn't you?

Help me hang this.

(Sighing)

Paint spray matches the blood spray from the hotel sheets.

JOHN: Sorry, Mrs. Warne.

I just came to fix a leak.

I'll come back later.

I'll deal with him later.

So the side where Bullington was stabbed

is now drenched in paint,

and the other side is completely clear of paint and blood.

I believe Liz was lying in bed beside Bullington

when he was stabbed,

and her body blocked the blood splatter.

Bullington's wound was on his left side.

There's no way that she could reach around his portly frame.

We must delve into this further.

What were Bullington and Clay quarrelling about?

Like I tell my girls,

what the men talk about is none of my business.

You can do better than that, Miss Annalee.

One of your clients was murdered,

and more than likely by one of your girls.

All I know is Cyril was none too pleased by Liz.

As for Bullington, he couldn't say no to her.

Was Bullington a regular customer of hers?

ANNALEE: I don't know, honey.

Liz just started working out of this place.

If you'll excuse me.

Well, we'll go talk with the business partner.

No, Will, I will talk to Mr. Clay.

Really? Because, you know,

most men don't like to answer to a woman.

And most men can't resist the charms of a woman.

Oh, so you're going to charm the truth out of him.

Is that your plan?

Let's just say I like a good challenge.

(Laughing): I got to see this.

No, you stay put.

(Sighing)

(Laughing)

All right.

Hey, honey.

Oh.

Flat broke.

How about you...?

I like you, Will Pinkerton.

But nobody warms a seat in this establishment

without showing some coin.

Not even you.

Oh, it's in your pocket.

(Laughing)

(Sighing) You're not joking.

Well, I haven't seen that much money in--

(Exclaiming)

Liz was wearing these last night, and now you have them.

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

She ain't here.

Left last night. I don't know where she went.

Well, if I were in her shoes, which you are,

I'd want to help her out.

Took her to see Max Osten.

And who's that?

Works at the distillery.

But she must be long gone by now.

Mrs. Warne, Isaac Bullington was a good man prone to vice.

He had vision; he lacked discipline.

And is that what you two were quarrelling about?

We quarrelled about money.

He liked to spend it. I prefer to save it.

Did you argue often?

We were business partners, Mrs. Warne.

Arguing was as common as agreeing.

Then you won't mind telling me where you were

at the time of your partner's murder?

You're rather direct for a woman.

Or a man, for that matter.

From you, sir, I take that as a compliment.

I was home.

Or I was here working late. I don't recall exactly.

Mr. Clay, I'll continue to be direct.

You don't seem at all displeased by your partner's demise.

I don't have time to grieve, Mrs. Warne.

I have a business to run.

MAN: Okay, close the door!

MAX: Keep it coming, boys.

WILL: Max Osten. MAX: There we go.

My name's Will Pinkerton. This is my father, Allan,

of the Pinkerton's National Detective Agency.

Looking for a young lady who may have come to see you

in the middle of last night.

MAX: No woman came here.

Well, I have it on good authority that she did.

Are you calling me a liar?

My apologies, Mr. Osten.

Our intelligence must be faulty.

What are you doing that for? He obviously knows something.

I agree, but it's your tactics.

They require a wee bit more refining.

They are my tactics, and they were working

up until your apology. Follow me.

Is that Virginia oak?

WILL: Oh, my father used to be a cooper.

In his younger years.

Virginia oak is very good. for whisky.

Here, let me give you a hand.

Oh.

One of these is usually 300 pounds.

That's a little light.

Virginia oak that may be, but there's not whisky in there.

Here, pass me that opener, will you?

You're about done here. Oh, look at that.

Air holes.

Oh, what you say to me, pal?

You're about done here. (Laughing)

Did you know my father was a bare-knuckle

boxing champion too?

He's prone to exaggeration.

Go on, back away.

(Sighing)

Hello, darling.

Let me guess.

You couldn't afford a ticket on the stagecoach.

(Laughing)

Up. Come on.

Catch of the day.

Hello, darling.

(Sighing)

We have some questions for you, if you wouldn't mind.

I don't need to talk to you. You're not the law.

But I am.

WILL: What are you, following us now?

Well, I recall your little lady detective friend

saying something about cooperating with law enforcement

being a pillar of the Pinkerton code.

(Laughing)

Now, what is your story?

I didn't kill no one, sheriff.

He was dead when I woke up. Honest.

And that's why you took his money?

She didn't do it, Logan.

Tell that to the judge.

(Liz shouting indistinctly) LOGAN: That's enough!

LIZ: Let me down!

Get me out of here!

Somebody!

LOGAN: Easy!

Now, don't get too comfy.

Justice moves swift in Kansas City.

Liz was apprehended with Bullington's money clip.

That doesn't look good.

She didn't help herself

by trying to run out of town either.

ALLAN: Well, unfortunately, the word of a prostitute

doesn't mean much to most people.

We need hard evidence to prove that she is innocent.

The blood spatter says she couldn't have done it.

The evidence is contradictory.

Where are you going?

If you want fresh water, you go to the source.

You two can debate all you want,

but I'm going to see Miss Lizzy.

(Gasping)

(Gunshot)

Liz!

If we hadn't found Liz Evans, she'd still be alive.

We don't know that.

Well, I know if I'd gotten to that jail two minutes earlier,

I could have saved that poor woman.

All we can do is move forward and work with what we've got.

And what have we got?

KATE: A dead husband.

And a dead mistress.

Let's not forget that Liz had many paramours.

Is there someone else we should be looking at?

Well, there's Max Osten.

He was willing to smuggle her out of town.

ALLAN: Very good instinct.

Follow it.

I shall have a chat with the widow,

and you go talk to Osten.

I already told Logan everything.

KATE: You did.

But I still can't understand

why you would be willing to risk your livelihood

aiding and abetting a suspected murderer.

Because she paid me.

Do you have a family, Mr. Osten?

Wife? Children?

What does that have to do with it?

She must have paid you a large amount

to be willing to risk their well-being.

Some things are worth the risk.

Was Liz Evans worth it?

MAX: Once I got to know her.

She wasn't a killer.

I don't care what you Pinks say.

You were in love with her.

I believe you.

She didn't kill Isaac Bullington.

But I need to prove it,

and I need to know why Liz was killed.

MAX: Well, she had other clients.

Bullington and Cyril Clay.

Liz had both Bullington and Clay as clients?

I'm in a nightmare.

I've lost my husband,

my son, his father.

It's unbearable.

Of course it is.

HELENA: My heartfelt thanks, Mr. Pinkerton.

I knew you'd catch that horrible woman.

(Sniffling)

Forgive me, speaking ill of the dead.

Even my husband's killer.

ALLAN: Your anger is understandable, Mrs. Bullington.

But truthfully,

her guilt in your husband's murder

has not been proved beyond a reasonable doubt.

But I've spoken with the sheriff.

He has no doubt.

The complicating factor is the murder of Liz Evans.

It just simply raises questions.

Questions that do not concern me, Mr. Pinkerton.

I wish to be done with this horrid affair.

He's right, Mother.

Now, what if the harlot is innocent?

Harlots by their very nature are never innocent, son.

Regardless, we should retain the Pinkertons' services

until her murder is solved.

It's the right thing to do.

HELENA: Forgive me, Mr. Pinkerton.

The hardship of recent events has overpowered

my sense of propriety.

ALLAN: May I ask you,

did anyone else harbour malice toward your husband,

or feelings of ill will?

For example, uh,

your business partner, Mr. Cyril Clay?

Mr. Pinkerton, Cyril Clay would never have harmed my husband.

They were devoted to each other.

(Sighing)

This is for locating Liz Evans.

Please continue your investigation.

Mr. Pinkerton?

Aye, lad?

Despite what my mother said,

my father and Cyril Clay did quarrel.

They quarrelled, huh?

What about?

My father accused Clay of embezzling company money.

Embezzlement.

How?

I heard something about bootleggers, but...

Good lad.

Mrs. Warne. Hello, John.

Just fixing the flue from the stove.

Thank you.

About yesterday.

I wouldn't have come in if I knew you were here.

Of course not.

You must have been surprised by what you saw.

I mind my own business.

I appreciate that.

The men that were in the house, I work with them.

Allan and William Pinkerton.

Pinkerton?

The, uh, detective agency?

You've heard of us?

Sure have.

Allan Pinkerton's an avowed abolitionist

and a loyal friend of John Brown.

Well, I often find myself

in unusual and sometimes dangerous situations.

I wouldn't want you to get hurt, John.

Thank you, but I can take care of myself.

I'm glad to hear it.

If you ever need anything, you can count on me.

Thank you.

(Bell clanging)

KATE: So, what did you learn from Mrs. Bullington?

(Allan sighing)

Well, Helena's emotional reaction

to the man seems genuine.

But I am not entirely convinced of her innocence.

Based on what? Well, she said

that Bullington and Clay had harmonious business dealings.

But then her son said that Bullington accused Clay

of consorting with bootleggers.

Well, I coaxed an ear out of Max Osten as well.

Turns out that Bullington and Clay

shared more than business interests.

They shared Liz Evans as well.

Ah.

WILL: Clay is looking guiltier by the second.

So, what are we going to do about it?

You're going to go and talk to him.

Leave that.

No drinking on the job.

(Knocking on door)

Mr. Clay?

What you got there, Pinkerton?

You might want to hand that over.

You're welcome.

ALLAN: So this knife,

the weapon...

So easily secured from Cyril Clay's office.

Is the noose around Clay's neck.

He's under arrest. He murdered Isaac Bullington

and then killed Liz Evans to silence the witness.

And then he hid the knife.

In his own office. In his top desk drawer.

The easiest place in the world to find it.

And I did. Case closed by William Pinkerton.

Right?

ALLAN: William,

the knife was planted.

(Sighing)

Well, after much difficult and exhaustive detective work,

I found this knife in Cyril Clay's office.

That's a lie. I found that knife.

Quiet!

I told them they planted it, but they wouldn't listen.

Patience, son.

Justice follows a long and tortuous path.

Now you will notice

that this knife is missing its tip.

Earlier, we heard our esteemed Dr. Tucker

describe how he found this very tip

embedded in the vertebrae of Isaac Bullington.

MAN 1: String him up! MAN 2: Yeah!

MAN 1: Guilty! MAN 2: Stretch him!

MAN 3: Let him swing! It's going from bad to worse.

Kangaroo court if I've ever seen one.

Well, better feet have dangled for less.

Now, Cyril Clay had motive.

He and the deceased had a tumultuous business partnership,

often boiling over into very public, heated arguments,

as was the case the night of the murder.

And Cyril Clay had opportunity.

He was here in this establishment

with the victim the night he was murdered.

And Cyril Clay had means.

He had this knife.

In fact, the only thing we are missing

is a conviction.

And what's worse, and what's worse,

this...

this murderous man

tracked down the only witness and shot her to death.

Your Honour,

the State rests its case.

MAN 1: Guilty! MAN 2: Yeah!

(Angry shouting) JUDGE: Order! Order!

MAN 3: I heard enough! MAN 4: String him up.

Order in the courtroom.

Mr. Clay,

I understand you're licensed as an attorney,

and that you wish to represent yourself.

Is that true?

It is, Your Honour.

Please call your first witness.

I wish to call myself.

(All laughing)

You promise to tell the truth, the whole truth,

and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

I do.

Yes, Bullington and I fought.

But who here has not fought with their partner?

And when he was murdered, no one saw me fleeing

because I was at home.

And do you believe that I would keep the knife?

It was planted thee by the real murderer.

I'm innocent.

MAN: What about Miss Evans?

Well, she was killed, I was out of town.

I was in...

Topeka.

Collecting on bad debts.

I swear.

Your witness.

Mr. Clay,

I want very much to believe you.

Was anyone at home with you

during the murder of Isaac Bullington?

Everyone knows I'm a bachelor.

Yes, of course.

You were in Topeka, collecting on debts.

Could you-- Could you tell us the names

of the people you met there?

I didn't find anyone.

How convenient.

(Chuckling)

You know, I hate when a fellow lawyer hangs.

Hand this man a shovel. He's digging his own grave.

Hmm.

He is strangely silent about his alibi,

and nobody has mentioned embezzlement or bootlegging.

Nothing.

(Gavel banging)

I have reached a verdict.

I find the defendant,

Cyril Clay,

guilty as charged.

(Spectators shouting) I didn't do it!

(Glasses clinking)

I didn't do it!

You will hang tomorrow at noon, weather permitting.

I didn't do it! I'm innocent!

I-- I didn't do it!

You can't let him hang.

We will not let him hang.

I have no idea who planted that knife.

Without an alibi, your case is hopeless.

I have an alibi, I just can't use it.

Go on.

You're going to hang in less than 24 hours.

I wasn't in Topeka. I was in Jefferson City

selling whisky without Bullington's knowledge.

So you were embezzling your partner?

My partner spent extravagantly.

I had to make up the money somehow.

So, why not tell the truth?

Are you afraid because they're bootleggers?

Do you know Jeremiah Mudd?

The murdering rat bastard runs guns, women.

And now I'm assuming booze.

I was selling him whisky under the table

and pocketing the profits.

If I implicate him in this,

he will gut me and everyone I hold dear.

Where can we find him?

MAN 1: Give me some of that.

(Man 2 grumbling)

Oh, good afternoon, gentlemen.

I appear to be a wee bit lost.

Could you point me the way to Morningside Crescent?

(Whistling)

(Guns cocking)

Howdy, fellas.

Excuse me.

I'll take that, thank you very...

Oh, the whiff of him.

Ah, ah, ah.

Mr. Hyde, would you mind keeping an eye on the gentlemen

while I step into these palatial surroundings.

There you go, Mr. Mudd.

Drink up, Mr. MacTavish.

To the king.

Oh.

Vile.

(Laughing) We water it down some.

Sometimes we don't use just water.

So, what's brought the top man

at Forsythe Brewers

all the way from New York City?

Expansion to the West.

We intend to acquire Bullington & Clay Distillery.

That so?

Our due diligence has brought to light

your successful endeavour with Cyril Clay,

and we wish to continue that.

And I as well.

But there is one matter we must discuss.

Now, Cyril Clay is to hang tomorrow.

But the Pinkerton detectives

have been snooping around, you see,

and trying to find out where he was

on the night of the Bullington murder.

And why do I care?

Because if Cyril Clay doesn't hang,

I won't get the distillery.

No skin off mine.

I'll just keep doing business with Clay.

And if I don't get the distillery,

you don't get the 5% discount I'm going to offer you.

Make it 10

and you got a deal.

So you and your boys

were with Cyril Clay the night of the murder.

Might have been.

What's that?

Were, actually.

Well, you take that to your grave,

and we have a business deal.

WILL: You thought Judge Gundersson

would believe a man who refused to testify?

I thought he would believe me.

Your word is only as good as Mudd's.

Which is no good at all.

Well, at least we tried, eh?

Now we know Cyril Clay is innocent.

Yet still going to the gallows.

We've done everything we can. Our hands are tied.

You need to start at the beginning.

The beginning was Liz Evans.

Okay.

Murder. Liz fled with all of her things.

Yet she had nothing on her when we found her.

Except Bullington's money clip.

Jill had Liz's shoes.

What else does she have?

JILL: Everything was thrown out.

WILL: There's no trunk here with her things?

I threw them out.

They were bad luck.

You're lying.

Why?

I maintain a healthy distrust for officers of the law.

KATE: Well, then you're in luck.

We're not law officers, we're private investigators.

And we're trying to find Liz's killer.

Liz was a friend of yours. She came to you for help.

Help us find who did this to her.

Thank you.

Didn't know you were a hunter.

I find it relaxing.

(Sighing)

Did you clean them, son? Yes, Mother.

(Sighing)

Now, quickly,

what's this delicate matter you spoke of?

"My dearest love, please stop pursuing me.

"Our romance is over.

I can never elope with you."

What is this about?

"Helena came here.

"She demanded that I end all contact with you.

I will not be here for your birthday."

ALLAN: We found this card

among Liz's possessions.

You told us you had no idea

about your husband's affair.

Clearly that was not true.

This is absurd.

(Sighing)

My son, I'm so sorry.

It was me.

I killed them both.

WILL: Let me just get this straight.

First we blame Cyril Clay,

who turns out to be innocent.

Then we figure it's Helena, who confessed to it.

And now you're telling me you think she's innocent?

Clay is innocent,

and Helena's confession was too abrupt.

That's because we caught her in a lie.

Helena was eager to confess

after she read this card from Liz. Why?

It proves that Helena knew about Liz,

despite her claiming otherwise.

That spells motive.

But it doesn't explain why she would hire us

to find the killer if she was the killer.

To take the suspicion off herself, obviously.

Even if you don't believe Helena's confession,

you can't refute evidence.

Really? Like a bloody knife found in a drawer?

Will you stop it, both of you?

Evidence is paramount,

especially in capital crimes.

I agree with him.

But sometimes evidence is not enough.

Kate's point is equally valid.

Having witnessed firsthand Helena's emotional response,

I just don't believe her to be the killer.

But sometimes personal observation

isn't enough either.

It is at the juncture of evidence and human observation

that we stumble upon the truth.

What are you talking about?

This birthday card

isn't enough to prove Helena's guilt,

but it provoked her confession.

Why?

This is dated tomorrow.

Whose birthday's tomorrow?

(Sipping)

Are you well?

Yes.

Liz Evans never got the chance

to deliver this birthday card to the intended recipient.

And that's because you killed her.

My husband was going to run off with that harlot.

I could not abide that.

But it's not your husband's birthday tomorrow, is it?

KATE: It's your son's.

We checked.

ALLAN: Oh, yes.

Your son murdered his father in a jealous rage,

and then he killed Liz Evans in cold blood.

And you want to hang for that.

You're mistaken, Mr. Pinkerton.

I'm the jealous one.

I killed my adulterous husband and his treacherous whore.

You're not a murderer, Mrs. Bullington.

You're a loving mother who would do anything for her son.

(Sighing)

Time to get your confession

into the official record, Mrs. Bullington.

I'm ready to confess my crime, sheriff.

How do we disprove a confession?

Hard evidence.

I know what that evidence is.

It's too high.

Can you even see the place where Liz was shot?

Helena's even shorter.

She couldn't have shot from here.

I can't even peek inside.

What if she was standing on something?

ALLAN: It's a possibility.

Did you even check to see if the gun was loaded?

I was about to.

Holy... What?

I know what we need to do.

I have to find us a pumpkin.

Pumpkin?

You know, you could just tell me what this is all about.

That's a nice topper there, Joshua. Birthday present?

That's none of your business.

Guess you want to look sharp for your mother's hanging.

Joshua. My heart leapt

when I heard you wanted to speak with me.

Me?

ALLAN: Yes. Thank you, Sheriff Logan,

for your generosity.

We have arranged a final visit.

We thought a round of target practice would be fitting.

JOSHUA: Target practice?

Yeah, we hear you're a crack shot.

How about a little demonstration on your mother's rifle there.

You think you could hit that pumpkin?

I'd rather not, thank you.

Okay, then. Here we go.

Go on, boy.

I want to see this.

What is the purpose of these shenanigans?

ALLAN: Mrs. Bullington,

your strict loyalty

requires more than just a confession.

We need evidence.

Evidence of what?

Sheriff.

John?

Stand back, everybody.

WILL: Oh, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, wait.

(Laughing)

Ready?

All right.

(Horse whinnying distantly)

Ooh.

I think that was meant for you, Mrs. Bullington.

Your son sabotaged your gun to make it look like an accident.

(Grunting)

It's not true, Mother!

These people are cheats and liars!

He murdered his own father.

Liz Evans got in the way.

Why would you do that?

For the family fortune.

I thought you were just a boy blinded by passion.

But you're just a fool blinded by greed!

I was going to die for you.

Not soon enough.

Whew! Some family, those Bullingtons.

Goes to show you you can have it all

and still have nothing.

Well, the train to Chicago

leaves in 31 and a half minutes.

That is rather precise of you.

We'll miss having you around, Allan.

ALLAN: It's obvious to me

that neither of you likes having me around.

Oh, that's not true...

entirely.

ALLAN: But it is also obvious to me

that neither of you needs me around.

And so I shall take my leave of you.

I'm sure the two of you can fend for yourselves.

Eh? Glad to hear you think so.

I'll keep an eye on her.

I'll keep an eye on him.

(Laughing)

(Sighing)

(Piano music playing)

NARRATOR: Next week, on The Pinkertons.

(Groaning)

Oh!

Do you have any idea how your knife became embedded

in Rudy's shoulder? Of course not.

WILL: And you suspect this Robert Burgess is responsible?

Well, the knife is his. He admitted to it.

Clearly nothing he says can be believed.

MAN: We've all got secrets. It doesn't make us all killers.

- Where are we going? - To end this.