All language subtitles for Frankie Drake Mysteries - 03x05 - Things Better Left Dead.WEBRip-CookieMonster.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Ooh!

I don't normally do
this sort of thing.

- Normally?
- You're an exception.

I feel flattered.

Well, we should
get inside.

- Mm-hm. Or we'll make...
- We'll make a spectacle.

- And the neighbours?
- What would they say?

- Mm-hmm...
- Hmm!

Maybe we should wait.

I don't think so.

Something on the...

- Blood.
- What?

It's all over
the stairs.

Trudy, no! Trudy? No.

She's dead.

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Miss Drake,
I'm Detective Trevor Ingers.

Officer Shaw is
the acting matron. You two

- familiar with each other.
- Thank you.

Officer Shaw will be
in attendance on this interview.

Let me start
by saying two things:

first, my condolences;

and second, Toronto's finest
will stop at nothing

to find whoever is responsible
for Miss Clarke's murder.

- I appreciate that.
- Your offices have been

dusted for prints.
Officers are canvassing

your neighbourhood for
anything out of the ordinary.

But so far nothing?

I suspect there was
a long list of people

who might have had an axe
to grind with Miss Clarke.

I-I gave that list
to your colleagues.

I-I should be
out there trying...

What you need to be doing
is letting us do our job.

Well, I've seen
Toronto's finest do...

Actually, Miss Drake, I think
Detective Ingers is right.

Fine.

- Let's see you do your job.
- Tell me about the events

leading up to your discovery
of Miss Clarke's...

Trudy.

The events leading up to
your discovery of Trudy's body.

- It's all in my statement.
- I want to hear it firsthand,

in case something was missed.

We were working
an investigation

that you are also on.

- The Bishop case.
- That's right.

Verna Bishop showed up
at my office. She wanted

- us to...
- Find the person who murdered

my husband.

I'm sure you heard
about it in the dailies.

We have.
You have our sympathies.

- Can you tell us what happened?
- There's not much to tell.

I was out at a meeting
at our church,

St. Mark's.
The housekeeper was

running errands and Edgar
had come home for lunch.

- Was that unusual?
- No. He did that every day.

I don't know if I can do this.

Just take your time.

Would you like some tea,
or maybe something stronger?

Stronger, I think.

So, Edgar had come home
for lunch...

The police think
he answered the front door

and let someone in.

After the door was shut,
he turned to lead them in

and then...

It's OK, Mrs. Bishop.

The police have been useless.

Please, I need your help.

You have it.

Mr. Bishop was lying
right there when I found him,

face down.
It was a horrible sight;

there was blood everywhere.

Mrs. Bishop had to repaint
because there was

no way we could clean
every little bit up.

And you were running
errands at the time?

Fetching groceries.

I'd left Mr. Bishop's lunch
in the oven to keep warm.

- You can prove where you were?
- Indeed I can,

but I don't like
what you're insinuating.

I'm not insinuating anything; I
just don't take anything for granted.

I have been
a loyal employee

of the Bishops
through thick and thin.

- And what do you mean by that?
- Nothing.

Look, we're simply here
to clear up this matter.

I don't like to speak ill
of anyone, but...

...things have been
a little weird around here

- these last few months.
- What do you mean by that?

Mrs. Bishop,

she's become obsessed
with the afterlife.

This man,

Kardec, calls himself a medium,

he's been coming around
at all hours.

And you don't like
the supernatural?

Maybe you just don't like him?

Gives me the willies.

He and Mrs. Bishop, they would
sit in the parlour all night,

holding hands

over that infernal spirit board.

Certainly didn't like that.

Now, now, Glenna.
No need to tell

tales about things
you don't understand.

Madam. Sorry, Ma'am.

I was consulting Kardec

- over spiritual matters.
- "Spiritual matters"?

I had two brothers:
Ellis and Henly.

Neither of them came back
from the war.

And then the Spanish influenza
got my sister, Lottie.

I just miss them so much.

Just got worse with time.

You were trying
to contact them?

I needed to know
what happened to them.

And if they were at peace.

So, these sessions
with Mr. Kardec...

Just Kardec.
He goes by the one name.

Kardec, he helped you
to reach them?

That's right.
He's a wonderful man.

Did you speak
with them?

Not every session,
but I did from time to time.

And what did your husband
think about these sessions?

I know
what you're thinking;

he held no ill feelings
towards Kardec.

In fact, it was Edgar
who sought him out.

- Your husband found him?
- Edgar was a believer

in the dark arts. He used many
spiritualists over the years

to consult the stars
about business decisions.

- And how did that work out?
- Well, look at our home.

We're doing very well.

- I'll drive.
- OK.

But you were working this case
so you know all of this.

Now let me ask you a question:
what do you have?

I don't understand.

Well, you have some new piece
of information, don't you?

- Something I'm unaware of?
- What makes you think that?

Because you don't need me
going over this again

unless you have
something new to compare

- my story with.
- So, what am I looking for?

- Discrepancies?
- You're not a suspect.

Well, that's reassuring.

But you still haven't
answered my question.

You know I can't discuss

- specifics of the investigation.
- That the best you can do?

Officer Shaw, I think
there's a call for you.

- Oh, sir, I'm sure it can wait.
- There's a call for you.

Right.

I suppose I should see to that.

I might be able
to share something, but I'd be

- sticking my neck out.
- I'll try not to cut it off.

So, how about we see
where teamwork gets us?

I'm game if you are.

I'll only tell you after
I've heard your story, though.

- No, no way!
- I don't have

to tell you anything,
so take it or leave it.

Fine.

- No call?
- No call.

My mistake.

Now, Miss Drake...

...what was happening
between Mrs. Bishop

and the mysterious Kardec?

Do you believe
in the afterlife,

- Detective?
- Of course I believe

in the afterlife.

Or something beyond our
existence. Whatever it's called

is up to the individual.
But I'm not

a lunatic. I really don't see
much difference

between myself and any churchgoer.
You attend, don't you, Miss Clarke?

- I do.
- Well, then,

you believe in life
beyond the grave.

And, uh, what about you,
Miss Drake?

What is your
church-going attendance?

Uh... spotty
since Sunday school.

- Mm-hmm?
- Mr. Kardec...

Kardec. Just Kardec.

Alright, Kardec.

What is your relationship like
with Mrs. Bishop?

Oh, well, Verna wanted to
reach relatives who had passed.

And that involves

long nights
in a candle-lit parlour?

An intense bond between
subject and medium is essential.

I understand how
that could be misconstrued,

but nothing untoward happened.
Her husband

was very aware of what we were
doing. In fact, he endorsed it.

And that's what you used
to contact the spirits?

Mm-hm, yeah.
It's a talking table.

Speaks to you?

Through it,
we contact

another plane,
and it's the departed...

those on the other side...
that speak to us.

Of course they do. Yeah.

I think you're skeptical,
Miss Drake.

Would you care
to travel with me?

Sure. Why not?

Please.

Miss Clarke, if you would
give us some privacy?

Sure, I'll just...

I'll make a sandwich.

OK. Ahem!

As I mentioned,
an intense bond between...

...medium and subject
is needed.

It's essential.

Well, in that case.

What is your question
for the spirit world?

- Who killed Edgar Bishop?
- Oh, they won't answer that.

Why not?

Well, you need to have
a spiritual connection

- with Edgar.
- So, why don't you ask?

You have a spiritual connection
with him.

As does his wife,
but for some reason...

Edgar has chosen
not to answer either one of us.

- And why is that?
- Hmm... Busy social schedule?

Hauntings? I'll be sure to ask
when I do contact him.

- Ask another question.
- I'm not

interested in anything
other than who killed Edgar.

I would have thought
you had a more curious mind.

Well, I'm plenty curious,

but I don't think the board
has any answers for me.

Fair enough.

Maybe Trudy would have
better luck at this.

You must.

Yes, Trudy,
you must.

Fine.

What is the question
you'd like to ask the spirits?

I don't have one. Sorry.

Well, perhaps I could
ask one for you?

- About?
- Oh, the detective business.

I find it fascinating,

plumbing the depths
of the human soul

- and all that.
- It's hardly that poetic.

Now, close your eyes.

- Ask the spirit world a question.
- I don't think so.

You did say you believe
in the afterlife,

- didn't you?
- I did.

Then indulge me.
One question.

Alright. But you ask.

If my mother ever found out
I was trying

to communicate with the dead
she'd kill me.

"D.

"A.

N."

Dan or...

Daniel. Is that a name
of significance?

No, not that I know of.

Are you holding out on me?

- Hmm...
- Hardly.

- "G."
- Hmm.

"E.

- R."
- Hm.

What exactly was the question
that you asked?

What does the future hold
for Trudy Clarke?

"Danger."

He sounds like

- a smooth operator to me.
- He is indeed.

With no answers
as to what happened.

Can you find out
how Edgar Bishop was killed?

- Of course.
- And, Mary, can you see what

- you can find out about Kardec?
- Sure.

- Is that a first or last name?
- First, last and only.

It's a psychic thing.
Makes 'em more mysterious.

- And you two did this?
- Did what?

This spirit board thing.

Yeah, sure. It was
for the investigation.

And it spelled out danger?!

And it spelled out

- danger?
- I thought it was pish.

And now that she's dead?

I should have
listened to the message.

Instead, I just continued on
like nothing happened.

Edgar Bishop was stabbed
repeatedly from behind.

The weapon had
a large, serrated blade.

- A hunting knife?
- No. More like scissors,

but different.
Pinking shears maybe?

Any idea about
the attacker?

The angle of entry suggests
they were shorter

than the victim,
and given the number of wounds,

the killer was probably
in a frenzy.

One blow to the neck
hit an artery...

good luck for the attacker,
not so much for the victim.

- So not a professional?
- Oof, absolutely not.

- So what's his story?
- Well, he and his wife

were toying around
with the afterlife.

Now he gets
to see it firsthand.

- Were they seeing a medium?
- Yeah.

- You know anything about that?
- Well,

when Herb didn't make it
back from the war,

I would have given anything
for just one more minute

- with him.
- So you went to one?

I did.

- What happened?
- I lost three bucks.

Oh, isn't that cute? They
turned death into a parlour game.

Look, just tell us
about the scams.

Well, I mean, it is
a good time to be running

this sort of operation, right?
Because you've got millions dead

from the war and disease,
and people are desperate

to talk
to their relatives, so...

Yeah. Then they turn
to spiritualists for help.

- Yeah.
- We know all of this.

The point is they get close
to their mark through misery,

right? They give 'em hope,
lead 'em on

and then they start to con 'em. And sometimes,
you know, it's just nickel and dime,

but sometimes
it's the whole shebang.

Nice. Prey on the wounded.

Well, it has always been
that way, sweetheart.

Mama!

I hope
I'm not interrupting anything.

- We're just in the middle of something...
- Well, I won't take a minute.

Your father needs you to...

Is that one
of those talking tables?

That thing is
the Devil's tool!

- It's just for a case.
- Mark my words:

nothing good will come from having
that thing under your roof.

The Clarkes are church-going
people. You'd remember that.

- How could I forget?
- I agree with her.

Thank you.
Who are you?

Oh! I am Nora.

I am Frankie's mother.

- And I'm assuming you're Trudy's.
- Oh! Pleasure.

I do not agree
with what my daughter

- is getting up to.
- Nothing good

ever comes
from these things.

And I have seen
some nasty schemes, but taking

advantage of a person's grief?!

- I mean, that is a step too far.
- Oh, even for you?

You bet your boots.

- Say, Mildred?
- Mm-hmm?

What say you and I go grab
a drink, huh? Talk about

- what trouble our daughters are.
- Well, um...

I don't usually drink,

- but, uh...
- That's OK.

- I do.
- Just this once,

you two better listen to what
your mothers are telling you.

- Yeah.
- Tsk.

- And did you?
- Listen to our mothers?

- No, of course not.
- I meant

did you think that Kardec
was running a scam?

It seemed likely.

I'm sure you reached
that conclusion as well.

We did.

So I'm guessing we were
wondering the same thing:

if it was a con,
was it related to the murder?

OK, just because Kardec is
trying to fleece the Bishops

doesn't mean that he's
responsible for Edgar's murder.

True. It's hard to believe
that it's a coincidence.

- You're right.
- You know what bothers me?

The fact that our mothers
are together talking about us?

Yes, that bothers me greatly.

But a killer shows up
in the middle of the afternoon

- and no one notices?
- Maybe he got lucky and got in

- when no one was looking.
- And how did the killer know

that Edgar would be home
for lunch by himself?

Right. It had to be someone
who knows the house schedule.

Which brings us
back to Kardec.

He would have been
familiar with the schedule.

- So what do you have in mind?
- Why don't I keep

the con man busy while
you check out his apartment?

Shouldn't be hard. He seems
to be interested in you.

You noticed that as well?

And almost seems mutual.

- Mm-hmm?
- Come on.

Mm-hmm?

I was surprised
to hear from you.

Why is that?

Well, after our last meeting, I
didn't know what you thought of me.

Charlatan seemed
most likely.

Easily misread.

In fact,
I was intrigued.

My curiosity was so piqued,
I ended up getting myself

- one of those boards.
- Mm-hmm.

Shall we give it another try?

Do you have a question?

I do.

Close your eyes.

Don't let your senses interfere
with the spirit world.

Ugh.

Hmm.

"Nice eyes."

Are you thinking
of someone who's alive?

Are you thinking of me?

Thank you for the compliment.

I'm just stating a fact.

Hope I'm not intruding.

No, no, of course not.

A knock might have
been nice.

- I need a moment with you.
- Now?

Well, I think it's best
we call it an evening.

Frankie...
it has been illuminating.

Miss Clarke.

Want to see what I found?

So far,
I haven't found anything.

Well, not nothing.
I mean, I haven't found out

anything about
this Kardec person.

But, Flo, there could be something
to this spiritualism business.

Hmm! Yeah, like I told

three bucks down the drain.

That's how much I was paying
the medium I was talking to.

Well maybe you didn't
get a very good one.

Thomas Edison says
that life is indestructible.

And he has even built a machine that
allows him to speak with the dead.

- It work?
- Well, not so far.

But he's not the only one.
Arthur Conan Doyle believes too.

I doubt anyone
is being disturbed.

You know that this Kardec
is most likely a fraud,

a "smooth operator,"
like you said.

Well, that may be so,
but the idea isn't.

Thomas Edison, Flo,

he's probably
the world's smartest man!

Hardly.
That'd be Nikola Tesla.

- Dr. Thomson. This is Mary...
- This is not

your own personal lounge,
Miss Chakowitz.

Perhaps you could
find some time

in your busy personal schedule
to file these.

Hmm... You know,

this studying you're doing,
it's all a waste of time.

We'll see about that... sir.

"Emma Gillespie,

"born in Yelverton, Ontario.
Both parents deceased.

"Father called her 'Bug.'

"Alberta Webster,
born in Leeds, England.

"Brother drowned
in the merchant marine.

Possibly sapphic?"

There's tons more...
all personal details

about his clients.
He's done his homework.

Things that the spirits
would have mentioned.

I knew it was all rubbish.
Look at this one.

"Maisy Trilby."

Kardec's been working with her
for the past three months.

She's a seamstress.

Pinking shears.

Good morning, ladies.
How might I help you?

- We're looking for Maisy Trilby.
- Well, that would be me.

- It's regarding Edgar Bishop.
- I see.

Then I suppose you'd like
to know why I killed him?

It's because
he was a warlock.

Maisy Trilby just admitted

she was a murderess
without any prompting?

We were as surprised
as anyone.

May I offer you some coffee? I don't
fancy it myself, it's a bit bitter.

You killed Edgar Bishop?

Yes. I had to.
Well, he had it coming.

What do you mean,
"he... he was a warlock"?

In simple terms,
a warlock is a male witch.

- Yeah. No, yes, I know that.
- That's what Edgar was.

He practiced sorcery,

dark sorcery.
He killed my husband.

OK. Well, according to the medical

report, your husband
died of consumption,

- so I don't...
- That's what the doctor said.

But how did he get it?

There are many reasons
a person can get...

Edgar cast a spell on him.
My husband fell ill and died.

- Why would he do that?
- Edgar didn't like him.

Are you sure I can't
get you some coffee?

Yes, very sure.
Why didn't he like him?

Edgar and Fred worked together.
They were once friends.

Then, Edgar started dabbling
in the black arts

and, well, my husband
didn't like that.

- What did he do?
- Fred went

to their boss, who was also
a very good Christian man,

and told him what Edgar
was playing around with.

So Edgar killed your husband
because he got him fired?

Things got a lot worse
for Edgar, these things do.

Word got around,
and he was shunned, ridiculed.

So, he never forgave Fred,

and he cast a spell on him.

- And how do you know that?
- Fred told me.

- From beyond the grave?
- Yes.

We didn't talk much
when he was alive,

so I contacted Mr. Kardec,
who's very good.

He helped us
communicate with Fred,

and Fred told me
what had happened.

And did he tell you
to kill Edgar Bishop?

No. I came to that myself.

- So, how did you do it?
- Oh, well, it was...

it was rather simple.
I knocked on the front door.

He let me in and when he turned
to lead me inside,

I stabbed him
until he was dead.

- With these!
- Easy.

Oh! Oh, sorry! No! No!

You were thinking...? I...

I don't have anything
against you!

- And you believed her?
- Well, it all fit.

It seemed likely: a woman
whose size matched the killer's,

who had access
to the murder weapon,

who knew the victim
so he would let her in.

So distraught
she became unhinged.

She was looking for answers
and finds them.

Then, in a fit of rage...

- Or despair...
- Kills the person she believes

is responsible
for her husband's death.

Exactly.

But you still kept
investigating,

even though you'd found
the murderer.

Because I didn't think
she was the only one involved.

Maisy Trilby?
I can't believe it.

She admitted
to killing Edgar Bishop.

Why?

She said the board
told her to do it.

Do you know
anything about that?

Board's message
can mean nothing to me

and have a profound significance
for the subject.

If I had known...

Frankie, you have
to believe me.

Let's get some air.

There are times
where I truly feel a connection

to the other world.

Other times, I just try
and help people suffering.

Hmm...

Does it matter
if both give them relief?

Not to me.
Maybe to your clients.

What I do is help people.

I try to give them answers.

Hmm... And would those answers
come from a little notebook?

You searched my rooms.

Look, you and I are
in the same business.

We give our clients answers.

So what happens now?

I was hired to catch
a murderer and I did.

You want nothing
more with me?

I wouldn't say that.

And then we went
back to my office,

and that's when I found Trudy.

And that's...

...everything?

I wish there was
something else, but...

Look, I've given you everything.
Now, it's your turn.

What are you holding back?

- Officer Shaw, you didn't see this.
- See what?

Coroner's report
on your partner.

Skip to the cause of death.

"Stab wound caused
by a serrated blade.

- Pinking shears."
- But that's impossible.

Maisy Trilby was in jail
by the time Trudy was murdered.

There must be
some other connection.

You understand now why
I wanted to hear every detail?

I have to go.

I might still make it
to Trudy's wake.

I'm sorry about
your friend, Frankie.

Thank you for coming.

Oh, no.

- My mother.
- Oh, Frankie.

Oh!

I'm so sorry
about your friend.

This is Kardec.

Oh, yes, my daughter
has spoken of you and...

- Hmm.
- I can see why.

- This is a funeral, Mother.
- What? Yes!

Frankie Drake.

- Mrs. Clarke...
- Not another word.

I never wanted her
to be a detective.

This is your fault
messing with spirits! I told you

- nothing good would come of it.
- Oh, I didn't...

- I said,
"Not another word."

She's dead
because of you.

Frankie,
are you all right?

I need to attend
to my friend's mother.

Yeah.

- Mildred.
- Oh, Frankie,

I am so sorry.
I don't know what came over me.

No. There's no need
to apologize.

So, um... was it

- good enough?
- Ooh!

- Did I do OK?
- Was an excellent performance.

The slap was
a very nice touch.

Thank you for suggesting it.

Yeah, thank you
for suggesting it, Nora.

It was extremely believable.

So what about
our other actress?

Why don't you
ask her yourself?

- So how did I do?
- It was such a convincing act.

You're gonna have
to take it easy for a bit.

It's not every day that your
heart rate and blood pressure

are lowered
to "good-as-dead" levels.

Ah, the board was not kidding
when it warned me

- of danger in the future.
- Hm, comes with the territory.

Yeah, easy for you to say; you
weren't the one in the coffin.

Please tell me
it was worth it.

I got to see
your mother hit Frankie.

- That was something.
- Just...

Since you "expired,"

here is what you missed,
starting with the details

I forgot to mention
to the police.

Don't tell me you're
buying that Maisy Trilby story.

Give me some credit.
Of course not!

- But the police are.
- Yeah.

- Seems to be like a scam to me.
- See? I called it,

- didn't I? Didn't I?
- Gloating is not becoming.

My daughter just hates
admitting that I am ever right.

- Fine, you're right. Happy?
- Not a terribly sincere admission,

but I'll take it.

- Hello, ladies!
- Hey!

Look what my friend
on the Ottawa force sent me.

- Are we ordering food?
- Uh, not me.

- No.
- I could eat.

- Alright.
- Miss?

- So?
- Oh, yes!

Kardec's real name
is Gerald Nelson.

Small-time con artist,
in and out of jail regularly.

Thank you.
Near the end of the war...

- Thanks.
- ... he changed his name to Kardec.

Suspected for a number
of frauds, but never charged.

- And all the plaintiffs are women.
- Really? Sounds like

he's got a rather
dubious charm.

So what about Verna Bishop? You
think she was immune to his charms?

Judging by the way
her eyes lit up

every time she talks about him,
I would say so.

- And what about him?
- Oh, well, I think

- he's in love with her money.
- Yeah. Aren't they all?

You know what? I'm gonna have
the hot hamburger, please.

Ooh! Yes, that sounds good.
I'll have that too.

And fried onions and
French fried potatoes, please.

- What do you got? A hollow leg?
- Well...

So, if Verna and Kardec
were lovers,

there was only one thing
standing in their way.

- Edgar.
- And Kardec had the perfect way

to get rid of him:

- Maisy Trilby.
- Alright,

I'll buy the fact that you think
Kardec is charming,

but enough to convince
Maisy to commit murder?

No, no, he didn't.
Her husband Fred did.

Oh, of course.
From beyond the grave.

She's a susceptible woman,
deeply grief-stricken.

Kardec plants the idea
that he was cursed by a warlock.

Over time, she comes
to believe it

and then decides
to avenge his death.

- So why would Verna hire us?
- As long as the case is open,

they're always gonna be
under suspicion.

So, they needed us

to find Maisy,
close the case...

...and because
we're good, we did.

- And now they're off scot-free.
- You know, on moral grounds,

I hate this con,

but on a professional level,
I've got to admire it.

- So what now?
- We prove we're better than good.

I'll deal with Kardec.

Maisy Trilby?
I can't believe it.

I'll keep him busy
with a romantic evening out.

Let's get some air.

While we're gone,

Trudy and the team
will come into play.

I'll get Kardec back
to the office where we'll

discover the poor, late Trudy.

- Trudy, no!
- She's dead.

Flo will need to handle some
paperwork down at the morgue.

Oh! And we'll need
a liberal-minded

funeral parlour as well.

That was your mother's doing.
How you like that?!

Great, you're
rubbing off on her.

- Hey there!
- Everything

went as planned,
without a hitch.

Well, let's get some killers.

Frankie? Trudy?

Frankie?! I've...

Ugh!

Oh! Are my friends in danger?

NO!

Aah!

Miss Drake, I'm so sorry
to hear about your partner.

- Thank you.
- And what can I do for you?

I need to speak
with Kardec. Is he here?

Yes, but we were just about
to try and talk to Edgar...

Please, please!
I need to say goodbye to Trudy.

Her death was my fault.
Surely, you understand.

Yes. Yes, I do.
Please, please come in.

I can try, but...

you're not a believer.
You said as much yourself.

She was my best friend.

I need to know
what happened to her. I...

I have to try.

Mrs. Bishop, can you give

Miss Drake and myself
some privacy?

Thank you.

Everything works better
when we're alone.

Why isn't it moving?

Perhaps she has
nothing to say.

Trudy always had
something to say.

Trudy doesn't have
anything to say.

We can try again
as often as you like...

...but tonight is not going
to be the night. I'm sorry,

Miss Drake.

You know,
this is all my fault.

Nothing in life
is anyone's fault.

It's destiny.
Pure and simple.

This has been
an awful day.

Would you mind
walking me home?

I'm sorry
I couldn't be more help.

I just needed
to get you away from Verna.

She is the weak link
in your plan after all.

So if Verna actually believes
all of this rubbish

you're spouting,
what's she going to think

when "dead" Trudy
visits her?

What do you want?

I come for you.

Me? Why me?

- I have a message.
- Message? What...

- what message?
- From your family.

My brothers?

My sister?

Are they alright?
Did they suffer?

They're at peace,
but they worry for you.

For me? Why?

They know.

Know what?

Tell me what they know.

It's Edgar, isn't it?

They know what we did.

They do.

How do I join them?

- Tell me, please.
- Redemption.

Make amends.

Do what must be done.

Do that...

...and you join them
in the afterlife.

Please connect me
to the police.

You run
a good con, Frankie.

Well, I learned
from the best.

Clearly.

I wish I didn't have
to do this.

Just how interested
in the afterlife, are you?

That's what I thought.

Do you have any idea
how much trouble you're in?

Hopefully none?

You're kidding?

The way I see it is
we worked together on this,

and now Verna Bishop and Kardec
are safely behind bars.

"We worked together"?

Sure. Under the supervision
of the Toronto

Police Department,
the Drake Detective Agency

was able to entrap Kardec
and solve

the murder of Edgar Bishop.
We all look good.

- You give us all the credit?
- I have no problem with that.

And what do you
want in exchange?

Go easy on Maisy.
She's not in her right mind.

- Mmm.
- Trudy.

Hmm?

Don't even bother.

- Mama, how did you find this place?
- Nora told me about it.

Wonderful.

Don't worry, I won't make
a habit out of coming here.

- Frankie, would you mind...?
- I'll excuse myself.

When I saw you
lying in that coffin,

it was everything I feared
about you being a private eye.

- Mama, we talked about...
- Ah, da, da, let me finish.

But, as I looked
down at you,

I realized how proud

I am of my daughter...

...and that you need
to live your own life.

Thank you, Mama!

You're going to buy
me a drink or what?

Wha...?!

- Since when did you...
- I am known to have

one on occasion:
Christmas, Easter,

- your birthday.
- OK, wait, that's three.

Haha! You sound
like a regular rummy.

And now I'm going to get
ossified with my daughter.

Ah?! Let's see that!

I knew I should have

never let you hang out
with Nora. Haha!

You're doing
good, Trudy...

...but don't think
I won't give you a good tracing

- when you deserve it.
- I don't expect any less.

- Mm-hm.
- Excuse me!

- Yes, ma'am?
- I would like to buy

- my mother a drink.
- Coming right up.

- I don't know if I like this.
- What? You're afraid

the spirits are gonna reveal
some deep, dark secret

- you're hiding from us?
- You don't have to talk

to anyone, Mary.
I just want to find out

- how Herb's doing.
- Hmm...

You know, when you're done,
I think I'll look up my grandma.

Shall we give it a go?

Come on.

You girls

- still fooling with that thing?
- Uh...

- Good, good! Scooch, scooch.
- Oh, OK.

Let's find out
what horse looks good

- for the fifth tomorrow.
- No, no! Flo wants to talk

- to her husband.
- What? Really?

Well, I tried it
once before and failed,

so why not
give it another go?

- You sure?
- It's worth a try.

Yeah, but if you think you can
talk to him through this thing,

who's to say he hasn't been
watching you all this time?

- Hmmm..
- I-I didn't think about that.

- Yeah.
- Yeah, I wonder if he's been

watching you while you've
been out on all your dates?

Maybe... maybe
you should go first.

You know? No.
I don't even want to hear

the tongue-lashing
my grandma will give us

if she sees what we've been up
these past few days.

- Hmm.
- Frankie?

You know what?
I have everything I need

right here,
in the real world.

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