Original subtitles

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.