Original subtitles

Just a bit higher, Jake.

Jake!

- What happened? - Hold on, Jake.

Oh. Oh, God.

Oh. Oh, boy.

Come on, Jake.

Hey, hey. Hey. Careful.

It's all right. I know what I'm doing.

Are you some kind of nurse?

- A doctor in training. - How deep is it?

I don't know. I-I think it's obstructing his windpipe.

Hold still, Jake.

- Oh. Oh, no. - Oh, no!

Please, no.

What have you done?!

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Oh, no!

Give me something to staunch the blood!

Here. Come on.

Hold on. Come on.

I can't stop it!

No. Jake!

Handcuffs are hardly necessary!

I am not a common criminal!

You can't do this. You've got no right.

What's going on, Crabtree?

Sir, we received a call from a woman

who says she'd found her silver tea set

in Mr. Crawford's pawnshop.

Her stolen tea set, sir.

Of course it was stolen, Higgins.

We don't arrest people for selling a tea set.

What have you got to say for yourself, Eddie?

My shop's in Station Five's jurisdiction, Tom.

It's Inspector Brackenreid to you.

Oh, and, by the way, any Toronto constable

can arrest any thieving bugger anywhere in the city of Toronto.

Well, I'm not paying twice, is all I can say.

Paying twice? Paying who? For what?

Nothing. Never mind.

Higgins, find Murdoch.

Crabtree, take him to the interview room.

Sir.

Look, I didn't know it was stolen.

She can have her tea set back.

Of course she can have it back.

I'm not interested in bloody tea sets.

I want to know what you meant.

About what?

About "paying twice."

Uh... it was just a slip of the tongue, Tom.

Who were you paying?

Someone from Station House Five?

You were in possession of stolen merchandise, correct?

As I said before, I didn't know it was stolen.

Right, Murdoch.

I think it's time we made a complete inventory

- of Mr. Crawford's pawnshop. - Right.

O-Okay, look...

I shouldn't be telling you this.

I mean, it could get me into a lot of trouble.

You were making payments to Station House Number Five.

- To whom? - I don't know.

Don't play silly buggers, Eddie.

I don't.

I put the money in a hollow brick at the back of my store,

and some constable from Station Five takes it.

We need a name.

The only name I know for sure

is of the fellow who started collecting back in June '89.

Who was it?

Jeffrey Davis.

Chief Constable Davis?

He was a constable back then.

I knew the man was dirty.

That was 14 years ago.

If Davis was taking money then, he's taking more now.

We have to take this to the mayor and the Board of Control.

Sir, we are talking about the chief constable here.

If we're going to go after him, we have to make it stick,

or we'll both be out of a job.

I'm willing to do it if you are.

The glass shard must have pierced the aorta.

Was the blood under pressure?

No, it was just... relentless.

It's possible it may have punctured the vena cava.

You mean if I hadn't removed the shard, he could have lived?

Its removal may have hastened blood loss...

but probably wouldn't have prevented it.

You made a judgment call, as all doctors do.

You mustn't blame yourself.

It was two months after I opened my store.

Davis claimed I was fencing stolen goods.

- Were you? - Do you want my help or not?

So you made a deal?

$5 a month to leave me alone.

It's $15 now.

Well, it's the cost of doing business.

What's this?

That's your statement.

Read it over and sign it.

I'm not signing this.

You want to take on Davis, do it without me.

Sign it or go to jail.

Well, then lock me up.

You think I'm more scared of you than I am of Davis?

Do you know what he did once when I missed a payment?

Bugger stripped me naked

and kept me in a freezing jail cell for two days.

God only knows what he would do if he found out I ratted on him.

Right, then.

It's off to the cells with you.

Sir, wait.

Even if he does sign it, to go to the Board of Control,

we need more than just the testimony of a known criminal.

- Hey! - We require more evidence,

and in order to get that, we'll need his cooperation.

I'll tell you everything you want to know, all right?

I'm just not putting my head on the block

next to yours and whoever else you drag into this.

Chief Constable Davis isn't going to jeopardize his position

for $15 a month.

You don't think Davis is behind all this?

What I'm saying is, if Davis is involved in this,

others must be paying, also.

So, how do we find them?

I've asked George to go to the police archives.

Sirs. The arrest records from 1890 to the present.

Thank you, George.

What did you want them for, sir?

Never your bloody mind. Get back to work.

Don't look at me like that. Crawford's right.

If they get involved in this,

it's their necks on the line, as well.

So, what do you want with all this?

I'm only interested in the ones from Station House Number Five.

We're looking for businesses targeted with several arrests

followed by a period of inactivity.

The end of arrests would mean the start of making payments.

Exactly.

I'll make a list of the businesses I believe are paying.

And I'll pay them all a visit.

Murdoch.

They were all making payments

the first Tuesday of every month.

That's today.

I made it clear to them

they were to continue making the payments.

- That's good thinking. - Later, Worsley.

So, what now?

We wait for the constable from Station House Number Five

to collect, and we follow wherever he leads.

How do we prove where the money came from?

I can't see a bloody thing.

Exactly.

But under the ultraviolet light...

You're to use these bills to make the payment.

- Why these bills? - Just do it.

You're making my payment for me?

Don't get excited, Eddie.

We're not making a habit of this.

I'll follow him. You take the call box.

Why are you following me?

Inspector.

I saw you making your pickups.

I saw you drop the money in the call box.

I want to know who it's for.

I just put it in the call box at the end of my shift.

I don't know where it goes from there.

You're lying.

There's $160 in the pouch.

It should be $165.

5 bucks is my cut.

Look, Constable...

you're standing at a fork in the road here.

If you want to come out of this with your world intact,

you best start talking.

Well?!

I once saw Constable Shriver take the money

and leave it under a bench at Allan Gardens.

Later, a man sat on the bench, then left with it.

Who was the man?

If he heard I snitched, that'd be the end for me.

Tell us who it was,

and we'll make sure he goes to jail, not you.

It was Chief Constable Davis.

I'll keep an eye on the call box.

You go to Allan Gardens.

Whoever picks this up, I'll follow him and meet you there.

Take this one to Station House Four on your way.

This way, Constable.

Oh, you're going the wrong way.

Bollocks. What is she doing?

Just put it back.

Put it back.

Bloody hell.

Oil You in the mink!

Drop it!

Davis.

Inspector Brackenreid.

You are under arrest for the possession

of the proceeds of racketeering.

What's ar appening?

Get Murdoch. He's at Allan Gardens.

What are they doing?! What is it?

Si...

Good morning, Rebecca.

You feeling any better?

I've been doing some thinking, and...

They brought him in last night...

after you left.

I think you should conduct the postmortem.

No. No, I can't.

I'm responsible for his death.

If you are, you need to find out how

and learn from your mistakes so as not to repeat them.

I don't think I have it in me to be a doctor.

Nothing I've seen in you leads me to believe that.

But if you're uncertain, this is how you find out.

I can't.

A true doctor needs to make decisions

and live by those decisions and never shy away from the truth.

I'm sorry.

Did you really feel it necessary

to parade me in handcuffs in front of my own men?

In my own station house?

I don't see this as being your station house

for much longer, Inspector.

Chief Crown Attorney Gordon.

I got your message.

It's as we feared.

Inspector Brackenreid picked up the money.

Do you have anything to say for yourself?

I'd rather hear what you two have to say.

Very well.

As you know, two weeks ago,

we uncovered a racketeering ring run by Constable Peakes.

From Station House Number Five.

Your old station.

Peakes is dead, but Chief Constable Davis

felt it was important to investigate

to determine the extent of the corruption.

Oh, did you, now?

We discovered several illegal businesses

were making secret payments.

We know that Peakes ran the operation,

but we wanted to find out who, if anyone,

had stepped into his place.

We heard rumors you'd been going to these businesses

demanding that they continue to make payments.

You have the right to silence, of course, Inspector,

but given your position

and tenure with the Toronto Constabulary,

we were rather hoping you could explain yourself.

I was conducting my own investigation

into corruption at Station House Five.

Really?

By yourself?

Given the target, I thought it was wise.

Who was the target?

Chief Constable Davis.

Sir.

What's going on here?

Inspector Brackenreid has been found in possession

of the proceeds of corruption.

He claims in his defense that he was investigating me.

Can you vouch for this, Murdoch?

Yes. We both were.

Of course he would say that.

Inspector Brackenreid is his close friend.

He may even be in on the scheme.

I doubt very much if Murdoch is on the take.

His wife has more money than he'll ever earn.

All the more reason.

Can you supply corroborating evidence

of anyone else other than your colleague?

Eddie Crawford.

The pawnbroker?

Crawford's payments were marked with a ink

that's visible only under ultraviolet light.

Why would we do that unless it was our intention

to prove where that money came from?

You make a good point.

If the money is marked, I'll accept your story.

What am I supposed to be seeing here?

I don't understand.

I do.

Eddie switched the bills.

It was a setup from the word go.

Have you any other evidence to support your claim?

Constable Jenson was responsible for the pickups.

He's in our cells.

Take him to the interview room.

Sir, I believe Constable Jenson may speak more freely

if Chief Constable Davis isn't in the room at the time.

Why is that?

Because he told us that the intended recipient of the money

was Chief Constable Davis.

This is some kind of ploy.

I'll be the judge of that.

I never said the money was going to Davis.

What did you say?

I told him as far as I knew the money went to Peakes.

But Peakes is dead.

I know.

I-I said I don't know who gets the money now.

Maybe no one.

That's when his eyes lit up.

Get me Eddie Crawford.

Yeah, I told them I was making payments,

but I never said nothing about Davis.

What about this marked money they gave you?

They never gave me any money.

- You lying bastard! - Sir, sir, sir!

Worsley!

Get him out of here.

You just earned yourself a trip to the cells.

- Murdoch, will you escort... - I know my own way!

Sir, Chief Constable Davis is behind this.

When he found out that Inspector Brackenreid

was onto his corruption,

he conspired with Eddie Crawford and Constable Jenson

to turn the tables on him.

So far the only evidence put forth

suggests that Inspector Brackenreid

attempted to insert himself into a racketeering ring

for personal profit and nothing else.

Like you, I am a man of evidence, Detective.

Davis knew that we knew he was corrupt.

He must have figured that we would eventually

uncover the truth.

He used our own ambition against us.

All these years, I thought Davis was thick.

Turns out the man's a bloody genius.

Sir, our situation is a product of our own stupidity,

not his brilliance.

In hindsight, it should have struck us as suspicious

that two men would independently point to Davis.

As soon as Shriver went downtown instead of Allan Gardens,

I should have smelled a rat.

I wanted to believe. That was my mistake.

Sir, how did you come to be holding that money?

A woman in mink took it out of the bin.

She dropped it as I gave chase.

And I was just about to put it back when they collared me.

The onus will be on the prosecution

to prove beyond a reasonable doubt.

It's not about putting me in jail, Murdoch.

It's about shutting me up. I'll lose my job.

I'll lose my pension.

Oh, God.

Margaret will be in the poorhouse.

Surely there's a chink in this elaborate scheme.

It's not that elaborate, Julia.

It simply requires the testimony

of two men who are sticking to a lie.

What about the woman?

If she hadn't have taken the money out of the trash,

the inspector would never have put his hands on it.

She must be part of the plot.

Even if I were able to locate her, Julia,

I fear that she would simply fold her story in

- with the others. - I don't know.

The constable and the pawnbroker were both part of Davis' scheme.

The mystery woman, she just ran off into the night.

Davis may not have intended for her to be found.

Doesn't seem fair, does it?

To lose your job, your pension.

To be sent to a prison with a bunch of convicts

you helped put away.

I hear they don't take kindly to that.

Come here to rub it in, have you?

I'm not here to gloat, Tom.

I don't want to see you destroyed

over a momentary lapse of judgment.

My only lapse of judgment was underestimating you.

Yes. But you did.

And here we are, me standing here and you sitting there.

What is it you want, Davis?

I've come with an offer.

An offer?

A position has opened up at City Records.

It's not police work, and it won't pay much.

But you'll keep your pension and stay out of jail.

And what do you get?

Peace of mind...

knowing that the constables at Station Five won't be harassed,

that police manpower

won't be wasted on fruitless investigations.

You want me to call off Murdoch.

I want you to understand

that this salvation I've arranged for you is contingent.

Sir, this is blackmail.

We can't just give in.

This is my life we're taking about, Murdoch.

I may not be a copper anymore,

but at least my family won't end up in the poorhouse.

Sir, if you'd just give me a bit more time.

- I can prove that... - I've already submitted

my resignation.

It's done. It's over.

Good morning, Detective.

Tom, Mr. Dilbert in City Records is expecting you.

I'll be there shortly.

I've just got to get this lot home first.

Your badge, Tom.

Good luck.

Sir, I still think...

Stand down, Murdoch. That's an order.

My final order.

Get back to work.

Hello. I'm looking for Mr. Dilbert.

I'm Dilton Dilbert. Can I help you?

- I'm Thomas Brackenreid. - You're late.

I came as soon as I was able.

I am not interested in what you are able to do.

I care only what you do.

This is your key.

Don't lose it.

We open our doors at 8:30 sharp.

Be here five minutes prior.

Lunch is at 12:00. We close for an hour.

Be back here five minutes prior.

We adhere strictly to the standards of civic comportment.

In dealing with the public, your tone of voice

will at all times be even and articulated.

Cusswords of any sort

will be subject to an immediate fine of 5 cents.

- 5 cents? - Per expletive.

A string of colorful invective

will prove quite costly, I assure you.

- So, what do I do? - Hm.

You will be replacing Miss Samantha Shier

and Mr. Kenneth Page in indexing.

Hello. Goodbye.

We're in the process of converting

to a new filing system.

Essentially, we're combining the accessibility of a bound volume

with the mutability of an open file system.

Every piece of paper in every file folder is to be punched

and placed in a two-hole binder in concordance with the index.

How many file folders are there?

Well, see for yourself.

Bloody hell.

- That will be 10 cents. - How much?

Per expletive.

Detective Murdoch.

Just wanted to let you know, I'll be overseeing Station Four

until a replacement for the former inspector can be found.

In fact, I'd encourage you to apply for the position.

Me?

You seem surprised.

Given my complicity in attempting to prove that you...

I appreciate your loyalty to your friend, Detective.

I don't hold grudges.

As long as it is understood that this whole affair is...

water under the bridge.

It is understood?

This is your template.

Lay it over the edge of the document

and mark the holes like so.

Remember that these are original documents,

so accuracy is... essential.

All right. I'll give it a go.

I don't want you to give it a go.

I need you to understand that what we are undertaking here

is nothing less than revolutionary.

If you say so.

What binder is that?

"Office Machinery Acquisitions." Typewriters.

Now, so, let's say your typewriter breaks down.

You need to find out if it's still under warranty.

Where did you last work?

Police Station House Number Four.

Well, search in the index for Police Station Number Four.

Find the volume number and tab color.

Go to the volume, find the tab.

Compare the lot numbers, and you have your date of acquisition.

That's very impressive.

Cross-indexing is the key.

What do you think of tab color versus number?

Color. You can see it at a glance.

That was my innovation.

Should we have a drink?

Well, get started.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Miss James.

Are you all right?

Oh, don't mind me.

I'm just... I've had an upset, is all.

Well, if misery loves company, you have plenty of it right now.

I heard about the inspector.

The detective says we'll prove him innocent.

I don't know if we will, but as my Aunt Marigold says,

"If you don't try,

you'll never know where trying may have taken you."

Ah. George.

Come with me, please.

Take care, Miss James.

Sir, what exactly are we looking for?

The woman who took the money out of the trash can.

I can't imagine she'll still be here, sir.

No.

But the impressions she left behind might still be.

Think about it, George.

If the woman had simply removed the money from the trash bin,

the inspector would have known right away

that she was part of the scheme.

Right.

To seem inconspicuous,

she probably threw out a piece of trash herself.

Exactly. And if we can identify what that item is,

we may learn something about her.

Well, good. It's all still here.

Yes, but, sir, how can we possibly know

which piece of trash is hers?

It happened after 8:30 p.m.

Now, I need you to remove all of these items

and take them back to the station house,

paying very careful attention to the order

in which all the items were placed in the bin.

- Oh, and, George... - Sir?

...Chief Constable Davis can know nothing of this.

- Understood, sir. - Thank you.

This is pointless.

Henry, this might be the only way to exonerate the inspector.

It's also a good exercise in the logic of detecting.

For example, we know that this paper is this morning's edition.

So it was obviously discarded after the woman left.

So we know it's not that.

Also, this wrapper is from a sausage vendor

who I know finishes at 6:00 in the evening.

So unless she was eating a sausage for two hours,

it can't be that either.

Now, that leaves us with these four items...

A broken cup-and-ball toy, a glove,

an old sandwich, and a balled-up piece of newspaper.

Detective.

Uh, Chief Constable.

The detective is not in right now.

What is all this?

All this what?

This garbage.

[ Scoffs I Garbage?

Don't tell my nephew that. This is his favorite toy.

I told I would fix it for him.

Yes, and I was just, uh...

- enjoying my lunch. - Yeah.

Fix your toys on your own time.

Yes, sir. Of course.

Good job, Henry.

Wait! Higgins!

- That's evidence. - Gah!

Welcome back, Miss James.

Have you made a determination?

Nothing definitive.

But the shard of glass completely missed the vena cava.

- What about the aorta? - Not even close.

Then what caused the hemorrhage?

I don't know yet.

I'm still looking.

Take as much time as you need.

There's something fishy about the telegraph machine file.

Fishy?

Not quite right.

There's a purchase order for a telegraph machine

purchased for Police Station House Number Four last August.

So?

We never received a new telegraph machine.

Well, that is a content issue.

If there is a discrepancy, that is the purview of accounting.

We're not here to read the files.

We're here to file the files.

Sir.

We've determined these are the only items

that could have been discarded in the time period in question.

A child's toy... unlikely.

As is a torn man's glove.

Sandwich... a possibility.

I can't imagine she'll still be here, sir.

No.

But the impressions she left behind might still be.

She was reading the newspaper while she was waiting.

It's the evening edition.

Hot off the presses at 8:00, Sir.

She likely bought it from the newsboy at the corner.

Well done!

Yeah, I remember a woman who wore something like that.

What else can you tell us about her?

Was she young? Od?

- Was she attractive? - Oh, no.

She was very ugly.

She wore a lot of rouge and powder.

Didn't really seem to help.

And she had an accent.

What kind of accent?

I don't know. Never heard it before.

Was it Italiana?

- Did she talk like this? - No.

Then maybe she was Swedish?

Not that.

[ Hungarian accent I Possibly Hungarian, then?

- She sound like th... - George.

- That's it. - Really?

She was Hungarian?

If that's what Hungarians sound like.

That's exactly what Hungarians sound like.

Uh, anything else?

She had scars on her wrists.

Almost like she tried to do herself in.

What is all this?

It doesn't just end with Station House Number Four.

Every police station in Toronto

is listed as receiving equipment they never got.

- How do you know? - I telephoned them.

On city time?

My lunchtime.

Look, I understand.

You used to be a policeman.

You see a problem, you want to blow your whistle.

But it is not our job to blow whistles.

If we don't, who will?

We don't just work for city records.

We work for the city of Toronto.

- I will look into it. - How?

I don't know, but there must be a procedure to follow,

and I will follow it.

Thank you.

- A Hungarian woman? - Yes.

She may have attempted suicide.

The newsboy saw scars on her wrists.

Sir, perhaps she tried to kill herself because she was ugly.

I mean, she tried wearing powders and rouge to cover up,

- but it didn't work, and... - George.

It's just a theory, sir,

but consistent with the facts as reported.

I thought that maybe if she had attempted suicide,

she may have been committed to the asylum for a period.

The fact that she's Hungarian narrows the search considerably.

I'll look into it.

Inspector.

I was told I might find you here.

What is it?

I think I've found a way to nail Davis.

The fraudulent acquisitions

were all made after October of last year.

When Inspector Davis became chief constable.

That can't be a coincidence.

Bloody hell.

Mr. Dilbert, are you all right?

Who are you?

I'm Detective Murdoch of Station House Number Four.

I work with the inspector.

I don't know what happened.

I was... I was compiling the evidence from city acquisitions,

and I-I heard a noise from behind me.

- That's all I remember. - Evidence?

Yes. I'd reported the fraud to the Board of Control.

They said to compile any evidence I could find,

so I did, and...

It's gone.

Someone's taken it. All of it.

Mr. Dilbert, did you tell anyone else about this evidence?

Of course not. I adhered strictly to procedure.

It must be the Board of Control that's behind this.

Or elements thereof.

This is a lot bigger than Davis.

Mr. Dilbert, would you be willing to help us bring down

the people who did this to you?

Damn right.

Swear jar.

So, Alderman Hubbard, what do you make of all this?

I'm not surprised.

I used to be on the Board of Control.

There are two men on the board I've long suspected of graft,

but their support runs deep into City Council.

Do you think the mayor could be involved?

No. Almost certainly not.

But I can't go to the mayor with only suspicions.

Well, how is this for evidence?

Insufficient, given the magnitude of the accusation.

What about Chief Constable Davis?

Oh, he's involved in this, all right,

but until we can prove there is a this,

we're still no further ahead.

Unless...

What about the woman he hired to set me up?

Right. Julia, did you find out anything?

Yes. There was a Hungarian admitted to the asylum

after a suicide attempt two years ago.

Did she cut her wrists?

No. He cut his wrists.

- He? - Oh.

Oh, but...

the newsboy did said that she was rather unattractive.

If we could get this person to cooperate,

perhaps we could strike some kind of deal with Davis

in exchange for testimony.

A bloody deal?

No chance. Bollocks to that.

After what he's bloody done,

he's going straight to bloody jail.

And, no, you're not getting another sodding nickel.

Sir, there's a lot more at stake here

than just Chief Constable Davis.

- What's the patient's name? - Vidor Szabdo.

Do you have an address?

I do.

Police.

- Remember me? - No.

Why would I?

We had a brief encounter a short while back.

You dropped a leather pouch full of money.

- I picked it up. - No.

I was never there.

- Where? - Where you were.

Sir.

Is this the mink stole she was wearing?

Yeah, that's it.

Odd... a woman's mink stole in the room of a bachelor.

I dress up occasionally

at certain events that cater to like-minded sorts.

Then, a couple of weeks back, we were raided by the Constabulary.

I thought my life was over.

Instead, I got a visit.

From Chief Constable Davis.

All charges were dropped in exchange for a favor.

If you wore the dress and pretended to steal the money.

Have us look for a woman instead of a man.

Davis continues to impress me.

I'll tell you what.

We'll make our own deal...

Your freedom for your signed confession.

No.

I am not going up against that man.

He would kill me.

Good Lord. Rebecca.

When did you get in?

I haven't left.

You've been here all night?

I had to know.

I wouldn't have slept otherwise.

And have you an answer?

I have.

The deceased had an aortic aneurysm

causing a massive hemorrhage.

That's why he fell from the ladder.

When I turned him over, his lungs collapsed,

and then the blood that had pooled in his abdomen

entered his chest cavity.

Then you removed the shard,

allowing the blood to flow out of his body.

It neither hastened nor retarded his death.

You're absolved.

Yes.

You know, you didn't need absolution.

Yes, but it feels good to know I have it all the same.

How difficult is it to find a man's address, George?

Sir, I've tried.

But he has one of those Hungarian names

that are tricky to spell.

This is how you spell it.

S-zed?

Sir, how could I possibly know they would throw a zed in it?

What is this all about?

Uh, s-sir, we're trying

to locate a suspect involved in a...

- A robbery on Albert Street. - That's right.

Which we should getting back to.

Yes.

So...

You're leaving town.

I'll pay your way.

I don't want to leave.

I don't care what you want.

You're leaving... now.

I dressed up.

I took the money from the trash bin.

You said that would be it.

We had an agreement!

Stop blubbering and start packing.

I have a carriage waiting.

- Stop your blubbering. - I've heard enough.

Chief Constable Davis, you're under arrest.

- We heard everything. - Really?

I didn't say anything.

- Did you say anything? - No.

I'm afraid it's your word against ours.

And our deal is off.

Looks like you'll be going to jail after all.

You've forgotten who I work with.

I dressed up.

I took the money from the trash bin.

You said that would be it.

We had an agreement!

Stop blubbering and start packing.

I have a carriage waiting.

Stop your blubbering.

Well played, Tom.

It's "Inspector" to you.

They've rescinded my resignation.

Congratulations.

Of course, it's not looking so good for you.

Fraud. Racketeering.

- Assault. - What do you want?

A full confession, including your assault on Mr. Dilbert

and your collusion with the Board of Control.

I can't give you the Board.

Your choice.

You can have a job and keep your pension,

or you can do 5 to 10

in the company of men you've sent to prison.

They don't take kindly to that, I hear.

What's the job?

It just so happens there's an opening in City Records.

Welcome back.

- Sir, welcome back. - Ah.

It's good to be back. Thank you, Crabtree.

Your office awaits, sir, but first...

Alderman Hubbard.

I apologize for intruding on your homecoming.

I just came by to thank you

for helping me clean up the Board of Control.

I was just doing my job.

- I know it involved a sacrifice. - That's all right.

Davis got what's coming to him.

How about a drink?

Absolutely.

Every piece of paper in every file folder

is to be punched and placed in a two-hole binder

in concordance with the index.

And how many file folders are there?

Well, you can see for yourself.

Bloody hell.

That will be 10 cents.

How much?

Per expletive.