All language subtitles for murdoch.mysteries.s12e15.1080p.bluray.x264-rovers

Oh, I-I'm sorry.
This seat is saved.

Terribly sorry.

Ladies and gentlemen,

welcome to the inaugural
demonstration of the Langston...

A typewriter
powered by electricity

and created by that fine
gentleman right there,

Mr. Alexander Langston.

Excuse me.

This demonstration will
take the form of a competition.

Sorry I'm late, William.

I had to deal with
a strangulated hernia.

So, what have I missed?

Not much.

I did have to guard your seat
with my life.

All of Toronto is here.

And who's the favorite?

Regrettably, Miss Louise Cherry.

Eighty-five words per minute.

Pity.

What about Paula Schumacher,
the Canadian girl?

- Does she have a chance?
- Oh, I don't think so.

Also, there is
Miss Maisie Bronson of Colorado.

She's reached 79.

- And George?
- Um...

And Constable George Crabtree.

What is your top speed,
Constable?

I'd rather not say, Mr. Hewitt.

I don't want to intimidate
the other competitors.

They don't look
terribly frightened.

Let's hope that you have
more of an impact

on our city's criminals.

And we have
Miss Louise Cherry,

a star columnist
for the Toronto Telegraph.

Tell us, Miss Cherry,

what is the fastest speed
that you have achieved?

Eighty-five words per minute.

That is outstanding!
You're sure, now?

I know how you newspaper types
are prone to exaggeration.

I'm not exaggerating.

Mr. Linwood, do you think
you can give Miss Cherry

a run for her money?

I'll do my best,
for myself and country.

Our first contestant...
Miss Maisie Bronson.

Ready?

Go!

That is fast.

Her fingers are really flying.

Oh, my.

Come on, Maisie!

And stop.

Mr. Frobisher, the final score.

Sixty-two words completed
with four mistakes.

Final score is 54.

Next up,
Constable George Crabtree.

Ready?

Go!

And stop!

Fifty-one words completed.
Ten mistakes.

Total score is 31.

- Miss Louise Cherry.
- Watch how it's done.

Miss Cherry?

Ready?

Go!

What's happening?

I can't go on.

- My hand's cramped up.
- Well...

...no need to tally that score,
Mr. Frobisher.

How disappointing.

My deepest regrets, Miss Cherry.

Mr. Linwood.

Ready?
Go!

That is fast.

Thirty seconds.

George!
Unplug the typewriter!

No!
You mustn't touch the body!

Excuse me!

He's dead, William.

Ivor and I trained at the
Underwood team of speed typists.

He was the undisputed champion.

Anything else?

He just turned 25.

And he had his whole life
ahead of him.

What makes it worse is that...

he always struggled
with his health,

but he'd been doing so well
recently.

What was his ailment,
Miss Bronson?

He had rheumatic fever
as a child.

It left him with a weak heart.

Sir, may I let the rest
of the contestants go?

You have
all of their particulars?

- Yes, of course.
- Thank you.

An unfortunate accident indeed,
Sir.

Was it an accident?

I-It seemed so strange.

I have yet to determine that.

Thank you, Miss Bronson.

The prize money
was considerable, sir.

A hundred dollars.
I could've used it.

Not a lot of money
for a man's life, George.

Excuse me.
Detective?

Edgar Leonard,
Toronto Telegraph.

You mind if I ask you
a few questions?

Mr. Leonard, the detective
is busy right now.

- If you came by the station...
- No need, Mr. Leonard.

I'll handle this
from here on in.

I was assigned
to report on this contest.

And I saw a man
who was electrocuted.

You weren't the only one
at risk, Miss Cherry.

Well, luckily you were spared,
Constable.

You shouldn't write this.
You're involved in the story.

Which is all the more reason
that I should.

What are your initial thoughts,
Detective?

I have no comment at this time.

- Constable Crabtree?
- Go home, Miss Cherry.

Mr. Langston?

You designed this machine.
What went wrong?

It should have been
in perfect working order.

- Well, it clearly wasn't.
- Then it was tampered with.

- By whom?
- A rival?

There's great competition
among typewriter manufacturers.

Remington, Underwood, Royal.

They know my machine
is going to change the world.

I'll be needing
to take a look at it.

Of course.

I'm as anxious as you are
to get to the bottom of this.

Mr. Langston, besides yourself,
who else had access to the plans

and schematics of the machine?

No one.
This is my invention solely.

So you built a faulty device.
That thing could have killed me!

I did not! I have tested
this machine numerous times.

So you know of no one who had
the knowledge to tamper with it?

Anyone could have
tampered with it.

Anyone with a reason?

There may be one person.
His name is Alphonse Maloney.

He worked with me during
the design of the machine.

Until we had a falling out.

Thank you.

George, please see
that the machine

is delivered to my office.

- Sir.
- I'll need it back.

It's evidence now,
Mr. Langston.

I've made no bones
about my disagreement

with Alexander Langston.

He gave me the chute
for no good reason.

Did you try to get retribution

by tampering with
his new typewriter?

If I was going to hurt
Mr. Langston, I would hurt him,

not some innocent bystander.

Besides, I've given up
my resentment a long time ago.

Well, if not you, then who?

Competition brings out the worst
in people.

Always has.

Progress isn't always
for the best, you know?

I wish Mr. Langston no ill will.

But I do not wish him success.

Why is that?

The purity of writing
is achieved by effort.

To electrify a typewriter
changes it forever.

Can you imagine the same being
done to an instrument like this?

It would be heresy.

William!

It's here!

Take a look.

It looks quite good, doesn't it?

The first run is 500 copies.

- Five hundred?
- That's the standard.

Now we just need to sell it.

I had imagined that's your job,
isn't it?

We must all play our parts.

To that end, I have arranged
a series of readings.

- The first one is tomorrow.
- Oh!

And who will be doing
these readings?

Why, you two... the authors.

- Are you sure?
- Of course I'm sure.

You two are the star attraction.

A married couple
solving heinous crimes.

If the newspapers had any sense,
they would be publishing

a weekly serial
of your adventures.

It would be a hit.

Well, if you think
it would help sales...

I suppose we could come up with
something interesting to say.

Let the company buy you lunch.

We can go over the details
of the reading.

It does look a handsome volume.

Indeed it does.

- George?
- Ah!

Sir, I'm sorry.
I...

I see the new book has come out.

It has.
It's very exciting.

I daresay.

If you'd like, I can arrange for
you to receive an advance copy.

I think I'm familiar enough
with the content, sir.

Of course.

Oh, George, find out all you can
about the contestants, please.

Sir, they're just some typists
trying for a little prize money.

On the surface.

But as I say in the book,

one must always dig deeper.

I don't ever recall
you doing much digging, sir.

What's that?

I'll look into that
right away, sir.

Very good.

So the detective
and the doctor wrote a book.

So they say.

How'd they do that with
all they have on their plate?

Well, I've heard
it's very good.

You have?
From who?

Well, if they wrote it,
it must be.

Oh, Higgins, will you stop
nattering? We have work to do.

George! Henry!

Dr. Ogden.
Shopping, I see.

Well, I thought I should
get something for tomorrow.

Do you have a function
to attend?

William and I are doing
a public reading

of our book tomorrow evening.

- I hope you both can attend.
- Oh!

Anyway, I must rush.

- I think I'll go.
- Yes. You do that, Higgins.

I think the chapter dealing
with the lipstick murders

is particularly well written,
Sir.

George, can you assist me
with this cover?

Sir, if this typewriter's
been made into a weapon,

it could be excellent fodder
for the second installment.

Oh, I don't think the doctor and
I will be writing another book.

Look at this.

What am I looking at?

A wire is attached to the...
"Q" key.

And also to the power supply.

There's another stripped wire
running back toward the keys.

Oh, yes.

It's attached to the shift key.

So, presumably, if both are
depressed at the same time,

that would complete the circuit,

and the arc would travel
through the heart.

George, do you have the text
that was used in the contest?

Yes, I do.

The only time
the letter capital "Q"

appears in the text is here...
Line 8, word 94.

Now, Miss Bronson went first.

She reached line 5, word 62.

Then you went next,
reaching word 50.

Well, I wasn't at my best, sir.

I think I have a cold
setting in.

What's the point
of all this, anyway?

Miss Cherry could have reached
capital "Q."

And that would have closed
the circuit.

The shock was meant for her.

Sir, she's fortunate she had
that arm cramp when she did.

Was she fortunate, George?

Or was she faking?

You may speak with my doctor.

I assure you my typing injury
is real.

We shall.

If you're telling the truth,
Miss Cherry,

then I believe
you are being targeted

by a murderer
who has yet to succeed.

Me?
I doubt that.

Have you made any enemies
during your career, Miss Cherry?

A good many, I'd reckon.

It's par for the course
when you're a journalist

and you tell the truth.

And outside of work?

Outside of work? Work takes up
a great deal of my time.

No quarrels with friends
or arguments with neighbors?

I have no neighbors
I care to interact with.

- Have you received any threats?
- Of course.

Why, just the other day
I received one that said

the world would be a better
place if I wasn't in it.

That must be upsetting.
What did you do?

Nothing.

For everyone who hates me,

there's a great deal of people
who appreciate what I do.

I write for ordinary,
everyday people.

I give them what they want, not
what they're supposed to want.

I'm sure you do.

Why should I ram stories

of tariffs and treaties
down people's throats

because I think
it's what's good for them?

I write stories that people
can relate to, warts and all.

And if I ruffle a few feathers
along the way,

I consider it a job well done.

And the people at the Telegraph,

do they think
you've done a good job?

The people at the Telegraph

realize I'm the reason
they're still employed.

Miss Cherry
is an excellent worker.

She's dedicated.

Some people
can misunderstand this.

She can come across as abrupt.

Is that a euphemism for "rude,"
Mr. Elliot?

She speaks her mind.

That is but one of the many
things I admire about her.

He said "abrupt," did he?

She's more than that.

She has no regard
for other peoples' feelings.

She's opinionated and critical.

The newspaper is worse
for having her.

Louise Cherry's
a dreadful woman.

She would chop up her own mother

if it would give her
a good story.

Does she ever get angry letters
from readers?

- Boatloads.
- Does she pay them much mind?

I'd say she enjoys them.

She likes to be noticed,
does our Miss Cherry.

Positive attention or negative.

She doesn't much care
as long as it's some attention.

You wouldn't still have some
of these letters, would you?

What are you doing, William?

I'm due at the hospital.

My goodness.
You do look handsome.

It's not every day
I appear on stage with my wife.

You know, we should figure out
what we're going to do.

I was thinking that perhaps

you could start out
reading the first chapter,

then I'll do the next,
and so on?

I think we can do better
than that.

Do you?
And what's that?

You'll see.

I'll see you this evening.

Oh, wait.

So you're not going
to the detective's reading?

I don't think so.

Aren't you interested
in the book?

Oh, I'm very familiar
with the book, Higgins.

In fact,
if you really want the truth,

I wrote the entire thing.

What?

Higgins, Detective Murdoch
is brilliant at what he does,

but he can't write for toffee.

They asked me for my help.

I gave it willingly as an
experienced, published author.

I'm telling you,
if it wasn't for me,

that book would've sunk
like a stone.

What would have sunk, George?

Uh, sir.

Miss Cherry's heart when
she read all this awful mail.

The majority of it
isn't even signed.

To not stand behind one's
convictions is pure cowardice.

Anonymity does seem to bring out
the worst in people, sir.

Any we should be concerned with?

Uh, yes.

We put aside these three.

Miss Cherry wrote
very unpleasant,

personal things about them,
and they wrote back in kind.

- Bring them in.
- Sir.

That is a handsome suit.

Thank you, Henry.
It's for the book reading.

I'd better change now.

I wonder if there's a chapter
about the fact

that we seem to do
most of the work.

Not likely.

Frankly, I hope
Louise Cherry was upset by it.

She deserves to be.

You are a city councilor,
are you not?

I am.

She wrote an article
in which she suggested

that I've had several dalliances
with vaudeville dancers.

Was there any truth
to Miss Cherry's assertions?

That is not the point.

Yes, I did write a letter
to Louise Cherry.

I would not consider
it a poison-pen letter.

How would you describe it,
Miss Thompson?

Strongly worded.

You wrote that she would

"regret these lies
until her dying day."

I was angry, but I did
nothing more than threaten her.

I'm letting my lawyer
handle this from now on.

We're suing her and the
newspaper for all they're worth.

And what's the status
of the investigation?

I really can't say anything.

I have the right to know,
both as a journalist

and possible target
of any further action.

And I've told you,
I really can't say anything.

I should have known not to
expect more of a kept man.

Oh, Constable Crabtree?

Currently occupied, Miss Cherry.

Interesting.

So Mr. Banks didn't exactly

leave the matter
with his lawyers.

His suit was dismissed.

After that, he paid three visits
to the Telegraph office.

On two of those occasions,

they had to send for constables
from Station House One.

And he is
an electrical contractor.

Indeed.

More than capable of sabotaging
a typewriter.

- I want him in here, George.
- Right.

With me, Higgins.

And we'll need a couple
of the lads.

Miss Cherry.

Lads, let's go.

You're with me,
right? Then come on.

The Adelaide incident was
nothing more than a setback.

The man responsible
has been sacked,

- I have every...
- Excuse me, sir.

The detective has asked
that you accompany me

down to the station
for further questioning.

What are you blathering about?
I've answered enough questions.

If you don't want to come down
on your own volition,

I suppose I can put you under...

Get your hands off me!
I have done nothing wrong.

Actually, you just assaulted
a police officer. Lads.

What?

Mr. Banks, why is the constable
arresting you?

Another fire, perhaps? Or is it
because you tried to kill me?

You're nothing but a criminal.

I should've killed you
long before now!

Get him out of here.

Can I quote you on that,
Mr. Banks?

You should have killed me
long before now?

- Is that what you said?
- Miss Cherry! That's enough.

So you can assure me
Mr. Banks is the guilty party?

We believe so.

But you can't guarantee that
no one else will do me harm?

I'm not sure anyone
could guarantee that.

Very funny.

I hope you throw the book at him
for trying to kill me.

And for actually killing
young Mr. Linwood.

Miss Cherry, Detective.

Congratulations on
the resolution of the case.

It may not be resolved
at all.

Ah, yes.
Due process and all that rot.

Look, I've decided to remount
the contest.

All of the other contestants
are in agreement.

I was hoping you would agree
to take part.

Of course. I'd still like to win
that prize money.

So would I. I didn't
perform at my best last time.

I'd like a chance
to redeem myself.

It's settled, then.

There ought to be
a large audience.

I'm sure there will be.

A frisson of danger
is a great draw.

I'm not sure it would be wise.

The matter isn't resolved yet.

Are you saying I cannot stage
this competition?

I'm saying I don't think
it would be wise.

And I'll take that
under advisement.

I've had a new Langston
shipped up.

You're welcome to examine it
before the contest.

Good luck.

Gentlemen.

Uh, George, a-are you sure you
want to re-enter the contest?

Your last result wasn't...

Sir, I think I can beat her
this time.

And a little recognition

might be nice for once.

I-I'm sorry.
I didn't...

Julia?
We're going to be late.

Hold your horses.

Oh, you look splendid.

As do you.

I must say,

judging by the ones I've seen,
we look too good to be writers.

What's that?

I thought I would enliven
our presentation

with a little demonstration.

Oh! Good idea.
What are we demonstrating?

Now, now.
Surprise.

Come, come!

We mustn't keep the taxicab
waiting.

Miss Cherry, I just came to see
that you're all right.

Of course I'm all right.

I hope you're not here
to convince me

to drop out of the contest.

No, of course not.

The publisher gave me
an advance copy,

hoping I'd review it, I suppose.

Is that right?
Have you read it?

I have.

It's quite good.

Of course it is.

Why would you say that?

Oh, let's just say I know a
little something of its genesis.

Do you?

Well, thank you...

for being concerned about me,
George.

Right.

Right.

- Thank you, Henry.
- Oh!

Thank you, sir.

Uh, sir, I was wondering
if I might attend.

Of course.

As long as you allow us
to autograph your copy.

Of course.

I wrote the whole thing.
That's not a word of a lie.

Why?

Well, Detective Murdoch
is a genius, to be sure,

and the doctor is
a brilliant scientist,

but neither one of them
can write a stitch.

So you took over?

Only because they asked me to.
And why wouldn't they?

Who wouldn't take the expert
counsel of a published author?

So they asked you
and yet gave you no credit?

Not that I can see.

Why don't you check the
acknowledgments at the back?

Maybe you're mentioned in there.

"George Carbtree"?!

They couldn't even spell
my last name properly?

They'll make money off this.
Off the sweat of my brow!

And I'll see nothing for it.
Nothing.

That's not true, George.

You could get revenge.

Well, time to go on.

It's quite sparse.

Shouldn't we wait
a little longer?

I've only booked it until 9:00.
It's time to go.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to
this very special evening.

It is with great pleasure
that I bring to you.

Detective William Murdoch
and his lovely wife,

Dr. Julia Ogden, who tonight
are launching their new book,

"Solving Murder...
A Scientific Approach."

The book is available
for purchase,

and the authors will be happy
to sign your copy.

Oh, please, do come forward.
Leave room for latecomers.

Ah! Sir.
Come in, sir. Welcome.

You've got the right place.
We were just about to begin.

And now it is my pleasure
to present.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto's own Sherlock Holmes!

Good evening, audience.

I can assure you
that I am not Sherlock Holmes.

Unlike Mr. Holmes, I am real.

I would like to welcome you
to an evening of murder.

Dr. Julia Ogden, also my wife,

will be reading chapters
from our book.

But first,
I thought you might like

a little demonstration.

Oh, Lord, not the...

- Fingermarks!
- ...fingermarks.

How does one catch a killer

if one does not know
who the killer is?

Identifying someone is one
of the most important steps

in solving any crime.

Did you know that every person
on earth has a unique signature,

one not written with pen and ink

but on the very appendages
that utilize such tools?

Fingers.

That's the thing, George.

Nobody ever got anywhere
in this world by being nice.

Trust me, I've tried.

Have you?

Consider your friends.

Do you feel like
they've treated you fairly?

Perhaps not.

And if you say nothing,

they'll continue to act
in this manner.

I suppose you're right.

You need to stand up
for who you are

because the world isn't fair.

Far from it.

Well, just because
I'm only a constable

doesn't mean I'm i-incapable
of thinking or...

Or putting a coherent sentence
together

or spelling properly.

Now you know what it's like
being in my shoes, George...

...to be judged for what you are
and not who you are.

If I were a man, I'd be called
a straight shooter,

but because I'm female
I'm called a harridan...

or a harpy.

Not another one.

Let me see.

"You have brought me to this,

and now you will see the result
of your choices."

Whoever wrote this
is inside the building.

- Louise.
- No.

I've put up with this
long enough. Are you coming?

Louise!

Press firmly.

Very good.

Don't worry.

I'm sure these won't go
any further.

You don't have
a police record.

You're a whorl.

Excuse me?

Sir Francis Galton established
three basic patterns...

The whorl, the loop,
and the arch.

We have Sir Edward Henry
to thank

for the system
that we use today.

He established Scotland Yard's
Central Fingerprint Bureau.

Did you know that recently
this very room

was the site of a murder?

And we'll get to that
in due time, Dr. Ogden.

Now that we have established

the basic identifying criteria
of the fingermark.

We can move to the next step,

and this is my favorite.

Perhaps whoever sent it
has already left.

Coward.

Is there anywhere
we haven't checked?

There's one more place...
The basement.

Oh, wonderful. Let's see
who's lurking in the basement.

Perhaps we should have
just read from the book.

I thought they would
find it interesting.

You did go on a bit long,
William.

There's no point
explaining something

if you don't include
all of the details.

Yes, of course.

You could have come to my aid.

I tried!

You didn't let me
get a word in edgewise!

Mr. Clements.

- How many books did we sell?
- Uh, only one.

To a Mr. Henry Higgins.

He wanted me to make sure
you were aware of his name.

Perhaps we need consider

you two may not be the best
advertisements for your book.

Or we could refine
our presentation.

Hello?

Hello?

Toronto Constabulary!

Is anybody down here?
Show yourself.

Put that down.

No, no, no, no!

Mr. Elliot,
please put that gun down.

Did you write that note?

I did.

Why did you threaten her, sir?

It wasn't a threat.

It was a goodbye.

- No, no! Don't.
- Why?

I have no reason
to go on living.

O-Of course you do.
You're a... You're a young man.

You have your whole future
before you.

Future? And what is a future
if my love is not in it?

I love you, Louise.
I truly do.

Sir, I understand.

Trust me.
I've lost my share of women.

Is there any chance you think
you could feel the same?

Sir, don't do this.

Manfred, stop this.

Life without you
is not worth living.

Don't do this, sir.

I love you, Louise.

You're honest and intelligent
and decisive.

The face of an angel.

I will always love you.

Manfred.

I honestly didn't know you felt
so deeply about me.

I do.

Then give me the gun.

Wasn't so hard, was it,
Constable?

Louise.

Arrest him, will you?

Louise!

Louise!

- Sir! Sir!
- Louise!

Did you write this?

Yes, I did.

"I will see you
in the next life."

That could be seen as a threat.

That was not my intent.

I was trying to say goodbye.

Am I going to jail?

No.

You are going to see my wife.

Your wife?

She is a psychiatrist,
and I believe she can help you.

Life is a precious gift, sir.

I would hate to see you
waste it.

- Are you charging him?
- Not as yet.

So the person intending to
kill me may still be at large.

- Mr. Banks remains in custody.
- And do you think he did it?

I don't know.

You made it sound so easy
in your book.

You've read it?

Professional obligation,
I assure you.

Miss Cherry, we are in the
middle of an investigation here.

And is Mr. Elliot a suspect?

Mr. Elliot nearly took
his own life.

He cares for you deeply.

Are you suggesting
I'm to blame for this?

Is that what you think,
Detective,

that I should indulge any man
who shows an interest in me,

regardless of what my feelings
on the matter are?

No, of course not.

But there is no reason to be
completely devoid of sympathy.

I harmed Mr. Elliot in no way.

- Let's go, George.
- Mm.

That was a most interesting
conversation

we had last night, Constable.

What are we doing here, sir?

I mean, Mr. Elliot
seemed quite earnest

when he said he never intended
on harming Miss Cherry.

He did, but he is
a disturbed individual.

Just because he didn't
want to kill her today

doesn't mean he didn't
plot to do so last week.

Right.
I'm not sure which desk is his.

Search them all.

How did the reading go
last night, sir?

It was a less than resounding
success.

They didn't like the book?

I didn't quite get
to the content of the book.

I thought I'd give them
an introduction to fingermarks.

Well, that may have been
a mistake.

I'm coming
to a similar conclusion.

George?

What's this?

A schematic of Mr. Langston's
electric typewriter.

What would it be doing here?

Find out whose desk this is.

Why am I here?

I wanted to speak
with a real journalist.

Louise Cherry's writing

is a bit too sensationalist
for my tastes.

- It certainly hasn't hurt her.
- No.

But it has hurt others,
yourself included.

You work in this business,
you develop a thick skin.

She took your job
as senior reporter and columnist

when the Telegraph took her on,
correct?

That is correct.

Prior to that, you had
quite an illustrious career,

overseas covering the Boer War,

senior parliamentary
correspondent.

Are you planning to write
my biography, Detective?

But it is true that you went

from reporting on matters
of significance

to writing about typing contests
and the like.

Your point, sir?

It would only be human nature
for you to be envious

of your colleague's success.

Success?

That depends on what criterion
you use.

How would you describe it,
Mr. Leonard?

Louise Cherry
caters to the basest instincts

of human nature.

She feeds her readers'
prurient interest

in stories of immorality
and depravity.

That is not journalism.

It is simply raking up muck
in order to sell newspapers.

What would you do differently?

What I did, Detective,
is report the facts

and allow my readers to come
to their own conclusions.

I treated them
as intelligent beings.

I don't hate Louise Cherry
for what she did to me.

I hate her for what she's doing
to my profession.

How did these come to be
in your possession?

I found them in your desk.

I got them from a man
I interviewed some months ago.

- Mr. Langston?
- No.

Are... Are you sure?

Because Mr. Langston stated
that he was the only one

in possession of any plans
to his machine.

Then he lied to you.

I got them from an associate
of his.

Mr. Maloney?

Yes.

He wanted me
to write an article

on Mr. Langston's theft
of his idea.

But you didn't.

I had no proof
other than his accusations,

and that is no proof at all.

So you knew
that the machine worked.

You also knew about the contest,
the contestants,

and the fact
that Louise Cherry had entered.

Yes. That nicely sums up
my professional life right now.

I can also tell you
what Mrs. Millicent Findleson

is making for
the exhibition baking contest...

Her world-renowned
apple tartlets.

Apparently best served with
a dollop of clotted cream.

So you knew that
Louise Cherry had the ability

to reach the necessary letter
that would trigger the device,

had she not sustained
an injury.

I also found these in your desk.

And as you can see,

the charge would not have
been sufficient to kill her.

No, but it was sufficient
to kill Ivor Linwood,

a man with a heart condition.

That was not my intention.

No, but it was the result
of your actions.

I said I didn't mean to harm
Mr...

But you did.

You will be charged
with manslaughter, Mr. Leonard.

Is there anything
you wish to say?

What happens to truth

when Louise Cherry and her kind
take over?

When the public trusts the press
even less than politicians,

how are we to find truth
in anything?

And what happens to us then?

And stop!

Time's up.

Eighty-seven words, one mistake.
Total score... 85.

Miss Bronson is currently
in first place.

Eighty-five?

And our final two contestants...

Constable George Crabtree,
then Miss Louise Cherry.

Constable.

Ready?

Begin!

And... stop!

Time's up.

Miss Cherry is the winner
with 88 words per minute!

- Thank you!
- Well done.

Congrat... Oh.

Well done.
Well done.

Yes.
Well, I knew I was going to win.

Second place.

That's nothing to sneeze at,
George.

I dearly would have
liked to beat her, sir.

I'm sure you're not the first
person to say that, George.

- Julia!
- I'm joking.

Excuse me.

- You did your best, George.
- I did.

The thing is,
there's a big difference

between doing your best
and being the best.

I wanted to let you know
I read your book.

You did?

I was wondering
if you'd like me to review it.

I do have
a considerable readership.

That would be wonderful.

As long as you don't expect
any special favors for it.

Not at all, Detective.

It's just my feeling that good
writing should be recognized.

Walk me out?

Of course.

You didn't say anything.

Oh, I think I said plenty.

Oh, George?

A moment of your time?

And Mr. Clements has agreed your
name will appear on the cover

of all subsequent printings.

You don't have to do that.

- We do.
- Well, we do.

We wouldn't have a book
without you, George.

Well, in that case,

I'd hazard the two of you
have some real work to do!

Work?

To ensure a second printing,
sir!

I mean, after all, fingermarks?

In retrospect,
that may not have been...

Not exactly
the most riveting spectacle.

Perhaps you could coach us,
George?

Yes.
Yes, perhaps I could.

What you need is something

a few of us in the industry call
razzle-dazzle.

If you're going to
demonstrate something,

demonstrate something exciting!

Like the truthizer, sir.
Or your capacitor gun.

You could zap somebody
right onstage!

And, Doctor,
perhaps you could, uh,

X-ray members of the audience

or show how
common household items

can be combined
to make deadly poisons

or kill a rat or something.

As far as passages
from the book goes,

perhaps we should
hire an actor to read them.

After all, I don't think anybody
really wants to hear

from the writer.