All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - 02x01 - Mild, Mild West.HDTV

- synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -

Buffalo Bill's Western Extravaganza

has rolled into town, and
all your favourites are here.

Meet the world's greatest sharpshooter...

Annie Oakley!

Hank 'Lightning' Wilcox and Jaws McRawlins,

the daring duo that
tamed the wild frontier!

The most dangerous gun in the west:

Bounty hunter John Warton!

And of course, the legendary
Buffalo Bill himself!

Welcome!

Hang on to your hats, folks.

You're in for a rootin' tootin' good time!

Oh... Bollocks!

- Probably the wind.
- Yes.

Bloody rope's probably too
short. That's what it is.

Perhaps Detective Murdoch
would have better luck.

These games are all as bent
as a nine-bob note anyway.

I have a good mind to charge
the fellow who's running it and

arrest him for making
money under false pretenses.

Pardon me, Sir.

They need to have the
occasional winner, Sir.

- To make the game seem legitimate.
- Yes, yes...

- Perhaps you should have this.
- No,

Murdoch, why don't you wear it?

Oh, I think it would
look much better on you.

I'd need about four large
scotches inside me before

that came anywhere near
my head, me old mucker.

It's a shame.

Hat like that cries out to be worn.

Five minutes to showtime.

Ladies and gentlemen!

Now the wild wild west was one dusty world.

And it was just crawling
with every kinda scoundrel

and outlaw that there was.

But the worst man

the most feared man in the wild wild west,

was one Chester McGee!

That's right. 'Cause he
was a stone-cold killer!

Now, one day this killer,

like every killer, met his match.

In the persons of

Lightning Wilcox and his
partner, Jaws McRawlins.

Let's hear it for these boys.

Chester McGee, he was
causing a lot of problems.

So that Sheriff over there in Carson City,

he called out for help.

And that's when he called on us!

- You're my hero!
- So... Lightning

and his partner Jaws,

they just followed that Chester McGee

to the ends of the earth!

And then they finally found him;

coulda shot him right there too.

Would that have been a fair fight?

No!

So Hank 'Lightning' Wilcox
took out a six-shooter,

placed it on that dusty floor,

kicked it across to ol' Chester McGee.

Then he turned his back on him.

And as Chester goes down
for that six-shooter...

Lightning spun around and shot
him right between the eyes!

So ladies and gentlemen,

for you today, the most
terrifying stunt ever performed

in front of a live and paying audience,

by Hank 'Lightning' Wilcox

and his partner Jaws
McRawlins, here in the flesh.

Take it away, boys!

Three bullets.

One to scare him.

One to calm his nerves.

And one he's going to catch in his teeth!

You ready, Jaws?

Just let me have one last puff.

Now are you ready?

Nothing to worry about.

They've performed this
stunt a thousand times.

Oh My goodness.

What was that, Murdoch, about
'nothing to worry about'?

Excuse us.

Jaws...

It ain't like I ain't
seen a man die before.

But this here was just so...

Unexpected?

Unexpected?

Gettin' hit by lightning, that's
unexpected. No, this was...

I don't understand. We travel
the world with this show.

Them boys done this act
at least a thousand times.

Never so much as a hitch.

Were there any problems between
Mr. Wilcox and Mr. McRawlins?

Problems?

What are you saying? This
mighta been intentional?

More than likely it was an accident.

But we have to make sure. Understand?

No, you understand this.
Them boyz was like brothers.

They may have had their
differences now and again,

but who doesn't?

Naw, this is nothing
but what it looks like.

Now I'm sorry, fellas,
if there's nothing further

I've got a show to do tomorrow

and I got a lotta changes to make.

- That'll be fine, thank you.
- Thank you.

The show must go on.

Murdoch, this is the
greatest show on earth.

- There'd be uproar if it didn't.
- I suppose.

Doctor Ogden, have you found anything yet?

Cursory details.

The bullet knocked the
lateral incisor out cleanly.

But it didn't pass through
the back of the skull.

The tooth slowed the bullet's velocity

significantly enough to prevent it exiting.

No doubt.

I won't be able to retrieve it until

I perform the post-mortem.

Have you found something?

Wasn't so hard to retrieve after all.

No.

No visible striations.
Near-perfect condition.

This bullet hasn't been fired.

No, it hasn't.

So where is the bullet that killed him?

Buried in the back of his throat

or perhaps lodged in his spinal column.

And how did an unfired
bullet end up in his gob?

It's a sleight of hand.
Isn't that right, Mr. Wilcox?

Mr. McRawlins no doubt had the bullet

under his tongue the whole time.

Yeah, he did.

I'd never fire a bullet at his head.

- That'd be foolish.
- Yes, it would.

So where did the bullet go?

Well, after I'd fired the first two shots,

put the audience on edge...

Then Jaws would take a
final draw of his cigarette,

like the last act of a dead man.

But he was really just filling
his lungs up with smoke.

I'd fire the third
bullet wide into the hay.

Jaws would belch up the smoke,

making like it come from
the impact of the bullet.

At the same time, he'd
spit the bullet up between

his teeth like he caught it.

Leastways, that's what
was s'posed to happen.

I see.

And how would you describe

your relationship with Mr. McRawlins?

'Relationship'?

How you two interacted.

I... I know what you mean. I
just never heard it put that way.

Least not by a man.

And to answer your question,

we got along fine.

Did you?

That's a helluva thing
to accuse a fella of.

Please answer the question, Mr. Wilcox.

I didn't shoot Jaws.

- Well, someone did.
- Yeah, someone did.

And whoever they are, I'll find 'em.

And when I'm done,

their boots will be pointing
up toward their maker.

You mark my words.

- Good day Mrs. Brackenreid.
- Good day, Detective.

Sir, you have a moment to discuss the case?

Yes, yes, but let's talk in your office.

Sir, the suspect Mr. Wilcox
raises an interesting point.

Someone else could have fired the shot.

What would you expect
him to say: "I fired it"?

Nevertheless, a theory we should entertain.

I'll tell you what I think.

I think it's the smartest or stupidest plan

ever conceived to get away with murder.

Just think... You shoot the
victim in front of a crowd

and claim innocence. At worst,
it's considered an accident.

Sir, why is your scotch in my desk?

The missus has joined
that bloody temperance lot.

She knows all my hiding places.

I see.

"Lips that touch alcohol

shall not touch mine," she says.

And she's been keeping
her word, I promise you.

- Most unfortunate.
- Very.

But... I promised her I'd quit,
and by god I'll give it a go.

That's very commendable, Sir.

However,

I'm not sure I'm entirely committed.

So how shall we proceed?

Well, I believe the
simplest way to determine

if Mr. Wilcox is in fact telling the truth

is to search the hay bales
and if we do find three slugs,

we know he did miss his target.

And if we find two,

we know where to find
the other one, don't we?

Any luck finding those slugs, George?

Oh, Sir, just the one so far.

It's like trying to find a
needle in a haystack, literally.

We thought about burning
the hay away, Sir...

But thought the fire would ruin

the evidentiary value of the slugs.

Wise decision.

Then we thought about
letting one of the bisons

from the show eat the hay.

But of course, we'd have to
sort through the excretion.

And we just watched one excrete.

Bloody hell, this is going to take awhile.

Perhaps this is a good time
to enquire about motive, Sir.

Bisons.

Excuse me.

We were told we could find Mr. Cody here.

I expected him to be here now too.

- He's very particular about his horse.
- And who might you be?

Oh, sorry. Rude of me.
Uh, name's Teddy Jones Jr.

You two are...... lawmen, ain't you?

Ah, Detective William Murdoch.

Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.

I sure hope you find whoever shot Jaws.

Oh, what makes you think
it wasn't Mr. Wilcox?

Well, I may have only been
working here for a few months,

but I know Lightning would
never do that to his pal.

Stranger things have happened
than two men falling out, son.

There's a code, Sir.

You don't double-cross your partner.

You got that coat looking pretty
good there, young Theodore.

- Shiny as a new dime, Sir.
- Shiny as a new dime, huh?

Pretty nice work there, son.

Why don't you go get
yourself a sarsaparilla

- and tell them it's on me?
- Thank you very much, Sir.

Gentlemen.

Ain't he a beauty?

- It's a fine animal, Sir.
- Yes Sir, he sure is.

- D'you ever ride?
- I'm strictly an infantryman myself.

I did a bit of time as a ranch hand.

Well then,

you know there's no place I'd rather be

than on the back of this horse
skipping across them plains.

I wish I was back in them days. But,

guess them days is gone, huh?

So what can I do for you two?

We'd like to make a few enquiries
about Mr. Wilcox and Mr. McRawlins.

You still thinking that
weren't an accident?

We're treating it as suspicious.

Could I offer a suggestion?

Of course.

Start with the headliners.

They've been here the longest.

Anybody knows anything about them two guys,

it would be one of the headliners.

Come on you shiney new dime, let's go.

I didn't really know him.

It's my understanding that
you've been travelling together

for some time now.

- I keep to myself.
- I see.

Any particular reason?

Nope.

A man of few words.

Yep.

Mr. Warton, do you know of
any reason that Mr. Wilcox

might have had to kill Jaws?

Nope.

If you could spare just a
few more words, Mr. Warton,

it might help expedite matters.

Just because I don't know a reason
why Wilcox might have killed Jaws

doesn't mean he didn't have one.

A lot of things happened out west.

Things better left forgotten.

So they coulda had their
reasons but they weren't telling.

And I didn't ask.

That's pretty impressive
shooting there, Miss Oakley.

I'm just getting started there, Inspector.

Would you hold this for me?

Of course.

Miss Oakley. About Mr.
Wilcox and Mr. McRawlins...

I didn't have too much to do with them.

They weren't the

swiftest dogies in the herd,
if you catch my meaning.

I think so.

Miss Oakley, would I be
right in assuming that

you're going to shoot at this
card while I hold it like this?

- No.
- Oh good.

Turn it sideways. I like a challenge.

Now, Inspector, you're shaking.

- Don't you trust me?
- Course I do.

- Oh bloody hell! Hooo!
- Now you're shaking even more!

Perhaps a drink would steady your nerves.

I'm on duty.

- You sure?
- Quite.

Suit yourself.

Did you ever see any bad blood
between the two gentlemen?

No.

Sorry I can't be more help.

That's all for now. If...
if you remember anything...

I like your accent, copper.

It's queer.

Funny-like.

Well, ta very much.

You, uh... need any more
help, you just stop on by.

There'll be a drink waiting
for you if you change your mind.

I'll be sure to remember that.

And you found nothing out
of the ordinary at the show?

Oh, on the contrary. Everything
about the show is extraordinary.

Well, that's what makes the Buffalo
Bill show so compelling, isn't it?

All the mystery and adventure.

Yes, well, for the audience.

But I need to know the truth.

Right. Well, you're in luck.

I have some very real and
interesting findings for you.

A slug, I presume.

Well, the bullet that killed Mr. McRawlins

had indeed lodged in his spine.

And as I was retrieving
it, I discovered that

he has only one real tooth in his head.

All the others were false?

Not just... false. Gold.

Crowns, filling, flake, you name it.

That's rather fancy for a man earning

only forty dollars a week.

My sentiments exactly.

However, there was something even more

curious about the slug I found.

A hollow-point.

More commonly found in a
rifle than a six shooter.

Precisely.

Ah, Sir.

- We found the second slug.
- And...

here's the third.

You're good luck, Sir.

This means that Wilcox didn't shoot Jaws.

Yes, I already knew that.

- So you didn't need this?
- After all. That's correct.

The victim was shot with
a rifle, not a handgun.

So I need to determine where
that shot was fired from.

Constable Higgins, can you stand
where the victim was standing?

George. Can you stand
where Wilcox fired from?

One to scare him.

One to calm his nerves.

And one he's going to catch in his teeth!

Here.

Killer stood here and steadied his aim,

then fired at the exact instant Wilcox did.

From here, Sir? That...

that must be a good fifty yards.

And to shoot a man's tooth
out from that distance,

the gunman was either very lucky or...

Or a very good shot!

And unfortunately,

we have an abundance of qualified killers.

So the shot was fired from here

and the killer slips away without
leaving so much as a trace.

He slipped away, but
clearly he left a trace.

It was a figure of speech, Murdoch.

You've told me about traces
of evidence many times.

"Any place the killer came in contact with

will yield evidence, no matter how slight."

Is that me, Sir?

But look around; it could be anything.

Actually, no Sir, it can't.

Sir, your murder bag.

Thank you, George.

You see, the problem is
there's too much evidence.

We don't need all of it,
so we need only collect

what we need. George, a
sheet of wax paper please.

And how do you propose to do that?

Glue.

- Glue, Sir?
- Yes.

Since the killer was
here only a few hours ago,

we need to collect only
what was left most recently,

whether it be dust, air, particles.

George, make careful note
of each sheet of paper

and its corresponding surface.

Sir.

Well, it's ingenious. I'll give you that.

If a tad complicated.

I do have a simpler approach
in mind as well, Sir.

All right, boys bring your
wives, bring your sweethearts.

Hell, you can bring your
wife and your sweetheart,

because you are not going
to believe your eyes.

I guarantee you are going
to see some amazing things.

- Sir, Sir, um, Mr. Bill...
- Bill, just Bill...

Mr. Bill, Sir, uh, could I
have your autograph, please?

- The name's Higgins, Sir.
- Higgins?

- Yeah, yes, please.
- To Sheriff Higgins.

- Gosh, maybe one day, Sir.
- Oy! You lot!

Get back to work, you bunch
of brown-nosing layabouts!

- Here you go, Mr. Higgins.
- Thank you, Sir.

- It's a pleasure.
- Mr. Cody, please join me in my office.

Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid duty calls.

See ya at the show.

Yep, this here is some
nasty business, ain't it?

And I know what you're thinking.

- You do?
- Buffalo Bill,

he's seen things that you
just can't even imagine...

- Actually, Sir...
- Been around the world and then back again.

But let me tell ya, it all means nothing

when it comes down to losing
one of your best hands.

Sir, where were you when Jaws was shot?

Where was I?

Wha... what are you suggesting?

Jaws McRawlins was not
shot by Lightning Wilcox.

In fact, the shot came from almost directly

behind Wilcox at a distance
of approximately fifty yards.

Fifty yards?

Yes. So whoever fired the
shot would've been very good.

Now I'm assuming you are the best marksman

in your show, are you not?

- Well, I don't know about that.
- Come, come Mr. Cody.

You reputedly shot some 4280
buffalo in a single season.

If that were true,

it would have more to do with stamina

than it would have to do with skill.

Them bison is a docile bunch.

Don't get me wrong. I was
a crack shot in my day.

But them days is gone. My
eyesight just ain't what it was.

- So you're saying you couldn't have done it.
- Not hardly.

Well, then who?

Well, Sir,

there's only two guns in my show

- that could pull off a shot like that.
- And they are?

Well, one would be John Warton.

- And the other would be, uh...
- Annie Oakley?!

What reason would she have to kill?

Mr. Cody wasn't sure,

but he had heard rumours of
bad blood between the two.

Funny he didn't mention that earlier.

Apparently his memory is
as bad as his eyesight.

Protecting the reputation of
his show that's what he's doing.

That's to be expected.

Bloody carnies. Trouble.
That's what they are.

I've established a... a
rapport with Miss Oakley, so

let me call on her.

Right. I'll speak with Mr. Warton.

Mr. Warton?

I'm ponderin'

Pondering?

All the different ways I know
to have killed Jaws McRawlins,

had I put my mind to it.

And?

That's the weapon I'da used.

Check the bullets against
the one you dug outta Jaws.

And I'm to believe you have only one rifle?

If I had wanted him dead,

I wouldn't have waited to do it in front

of a packed house and
a half a dozen lawmen.

I understand the two of you had words.

Probably very few words,
but words nonetheless.

- He needed a talking-to.
- Why?

Because he was getting a
bit too big for his britches.

Don't you mean that he and Wilcox

had supplanted you in the show?

Something that would have cost you roughly

twenty-five dollars a week in salary.

"Pride goeth before destruction,

and a haughty spirit before a fall."

Proverbs 16:18.

Jaws was gloating, rubbing it in?

He was.

But I don't abide anyone
disrespecting a lady.

So I had a little chat with him.

That's all?

That's all.

And this lady who might she be?

BANG!

Jaws...

certainly did have a bad
case of wandering hands.

But as you may have guessed,
I can take of myself.

Sure didn't need John Warton
gettin' all chivalrous.

Now you sure I can't tempt you?

Hundred percent Kentucky
mash, smooth as silk.

I'm still on duty, Miss Oakley.

Suit yourself.

So you confronted Mr. McRawlins?

Well, if putting my boot

up his backside is
considered a confrontation...

He never so much as looked
sideways at me again.

I see.

- Miss Oakley.
- Inspector.

I have to ask you where you
were when the shot was fired.

Why, I was in my tent.

Alone.

But I didn't shoot Jaws.

Oh, if I'da shot him, I'da
aimed a lot lower than his teeth.

Two world-class marksmen.

Three, if you include Buffalo Bill.

Each with motive, and
none with a decent alibi.

So what's our next move?

I'll do some ballistics work

comparing their rifles to the
slug that killed the victim.

I think they're too cagey a
lot to be tripped up like that.

There's no shortage of rifles to check.

We're going to need another clue, Murdoch.

Well then, Inspector.

I believe I may have
what you're looking for.

- It's most disconcerting.
- Disconcerting?

The audacity... to walk into my morgue

and to take such liberties!

I must say, I feel absolutely violated!

Dr. Ogden, what on earth has happened?

- It's Mr. McRawlins' head.
- What about it?

It's gone.

His head... just sliced off?

Sawed off actually.

Whoever it was left the
bone saw in the sink.

Well, that was obliging of him.

Probably after that mouth full of gold.

Probably worth a few sheckles.

Yes, but why take the whole head?

Unless it too was of value.

You think Jaws McRawlins
had a bounty on him?

Someone removed his head, Mr. Cody.

I can't help but think

that it's because there was a price on it.

Was there a bounty on Jaws McRawlins?

Well, everybody in this
show has some kinda history.

Not all of it's wholesome.

It's my understanding
that removal of the head

- is the bounty hunter's hallmark.
- Yes, it is.

And how many bounty hunters
do you have in the show?

Just got the one, John Warton.

Yep.

I'm starting to think we'd be
better off if we were armed.

Given Mr. Warton's talents,
Sir, I'm sure it wouldn't help.

Warton?!

Bloody hell. He's skedaddled.

- Pardon?
- Gone.

Teddy!

Have you seen Mr. Warton?

Sure did, Detective. Uh, he ran
right past me, carrying his bag.

Fact, there he is now.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- John Warton!

Stop!

Murdoch,

you're just one surprise
after another, me old mucker.

He killed a card cheat in Kansas City.

He was worth two thousand dollars.

A thousand dollars in
Kansas City, Kansas...

And a thousand dollars in
Kansas City, Missouri, yes,

but you're not in Kansas
City anymore, Mr. Warton.

You can't just come to this
country and shoot a man.

No matter what the bounty is on his head.

I didn't shoot him.

I was just collecting the bounty.

You knew who he was all along.

I seen his rat-face on a hundred posters.

Gold choppers didn't fool me none.

I knew it was One-Tooth Ackerson.

I'm sorry, "One-Tooth"...

Ackerson.

Lost his teeth in a bar fight in Cheyenne.

Am I to believe that you travelled

with this man for years

and never tried to collect the
price on his head until now?

You think I'm just going
to throw him into a sack

and cart him off to Kansas
kicking and screaming?

He was wanted dead or alive.

You ever killed a man, Detective?

I have.

More times than I care to count.

They say it gets easier with time,

but that wasn't my experience.

I put those days behind me.

Why should I believe you?

I'm not above turning a dead
man in for a thousand dollars.

I'm not above stealing his gold teeth.

But I didn't kill One-Tooth.

That's my word.

One-Tooth, you say?

I heard tell of a One-Eyed Ackerson.

You had no idea who
your partner really was?

None.

I find that hard to believe.

He pulled the wool over my eyes real good.

Corker, ain't it?

Mr. Wilcox.

How many men have you killed?

Countin' Indians?

Beats me.

Somewhere between plenty
and too many, I guess.

What's one more, eh?

You still think I killed Jaws?

I thought I was the one
guy that couldna done it.

You could have had an accomplice.

A man don't turn on his partner, Detective.

Mr. Wilcox.

There is another way of looking at this.

Yeah, and how's that?

One-Tooth's past caught up to him.

Yours could also.

Perhaps you should be looking
over your shoulder, Mr. Wilcox.

Am I free to go now?

So you believe Warton was just
capitalizing on opportunity?

I'm inclined to, yes.

And his partner?

I'm sure he knew Jaws
was really One-Tooth,

but I don't think he killed him.

Bunch of cutthroats, the lot of them.

I'm surprised no one sawed
off his head even earlier.

So what's our plan?

Clearly, someone else in Buffalo Bill's

show knew of One-Tooth's secret.

And whoever that person was
was also an excellent shot.

So Jaws McRawlins was ol'
One-Tooth, ol' One-Tooth Ackerson?

You didn't know?

Well, I had my suspicions.

After all, the man just
had the one real tooth.

But that's in the past, and a man's past,

that's his business.

That's becoming a tiresome
refrain around here.

It's the way of the west.

Sir, the west is dead and gone.

There's nothing left of
it now but a carnival show.

Uh, Mr. Cody, I believe

that man is trying to get your attention.

What man?

He's holding up a message for you?

How does that idiot
expect me to read something

from that kind of distance to here?

"I am fifty yards

from the spot where

Jaws McRawlins was shot."

Oh, I get this.

You were testin' ol'
Buffalo Bill, weren't you?

You told me your eyesight
wasn't up to making the shot.

And you thought I was lying?

With all due respect, Mr. Cody,

you've built a whole show around lies.

People don't want the truth.

No, Sir, they want something else.

They want a good story.

And a good story told often enough,

that can become the truth.

Like the story of Jaws
McRawlins and Lightning Wilcox?

Well,

I may have embellished that a little bit.

I'd settle for the truth.

All right, all right.

Chester McGee weren't no killer.

But he was a troublemaker.

He caused a lot of
problems for the railroads.

So they deputized Hank
and Jaws to deal with him.

- You mean kill him.
- No. Deal with him,

- one way or t'other.
- Let me guess,

they didn't turn their back on him.

Only a fool would do that.

But they did kick that gun over.

They did give him a fair fight.

Or gave themselves a reason to shoot him.

Well, nobody made Chester pick up that gun.

One-Tooth?

I never would have guessed
that in a million years.

Why's that?

The way I heard it,

One-Tooth could freeze a
man's blood with his grin.

That sure as shootin'

wouldn't have been my
description of Jaws McRawlins.

Another tall tale from the west, I suppose.

Still, there was his bounty.

- That must have interested you.
- Two thousand dollars?

Ain't nothing to spit at.
But I don't need the money.

Not bad enough to shoot a man over.

Then who did?

Well, you throw a stone around here,

you'd hit somebody
willing to kill him for it.

Now Inspector, are you
ready for that drink?

No, thank you.

What sort of lawman doesn't drink?

- Well, I...
- You're not a religious man, are you?

- No, no, well, I attend, but...
- You fruity?

No, of course not.

Well then, why are you on the wagon?

I ain't never met a copper
didn't enjoy a swaller.

Truth is,

my wife has joined the Temperance League.

Oh. Temperance League.

Right.

No, I couldn't.

What your wife don't know
won't hurt her, will it?

Well...

One little drink won't
do any harm, I suppose.

Take that, you bunch
of Temperance bastards!

They'd never let me do
this back in England.

It looks good in your hands.

Oh, wait wait wait, Sherlock,
you're holding it wrong.

All right. Now...

now that's better.

- Just relax.
- I'm trying, darling, I'm trying.

Who's there?

What do you want, friend?

Mr. Wilcox died of massive
internal hemorrhaging

caused by a single gunshot wound.

There were no powder marks.

So the killer was some
distance away from his victim?

What's odd is the bullet's path?

Oh? How so?

Well, it entered just
above the left clavicle,

pierced the deltoid muscle,

then shattered the scapula

before heading deeper toward the heart.

As if the shot was fired from above

and then travelled down
the length of the body.

Are you suggesting the killer was overhead?

That seems unlikely.

The killer wasn't overhead.

The victim was bent forward.

Well, that would be consistent
with the bullet's angle of entry.

But what was he doing bent over?

A very good question, Doctor.

That's the only bullet casing we found.

45 calibre, I believe.

A handgun.

So the killer stood here

and deliberately emptied
the chamber of his gun.

Just like a wild west shootout.

What do we have here?

It appears to be a skid mark.

We're interviewing the show's crew

but nobody seems to have seen anything.

- No one?
- No.

However, shots were heard.

Shots?

But the victim was shot once
and we only found one casing.

Yes, but there were numerous shots heard

in the vicinity of Miss Oakley's tent.

However, we believe it
was just some drunken lout

- who got his hands on a rifle.
- I see.

The marks stop here.

The victim was bent over.

Why?

A gun.

He bent down to pick up a gun.

So the killer enters,

Wilcox drops his gun,
bends over to pick it up?

The killer kicked over a gun.

- Well, that sounds familiar.
- Doesn't it?

- Mrs. Brackenreid, always a pleasure.
- Detective Murdoch.

I just want to say how terribly,

terribly disappointed I am in you.

- Me?
- Those liquor bottles in your office.

- Ah, but...
- Leading Thomas into temptation like that.

I'm very sorry.

And he's trying so hard to be good.

Yes, he is.

Murdoch, what is it?

I've just received this.

Just... just read it.

It's a telegram from the Marshal
in Rio Grande confirming...

Shhh. Shhh.

Confirming a suspicion I
had about Lightning Wilcox.

His real name is Harry 'The Gun' Bowler,

partner of One-Tooth Ackerson.

Two dead gunmen.

It would seem their pasts
are coming back to haunt them.

Yeah, but which part of it?

They did a lot of bad things in their day.

I suspect it has something to
do with killing Chester McGee.

Just another one of Buffalo Bill's legends.

Every myth has a basis in reality.

True enough.

I suggest we contact Carson City

where the event allegedly took place.

I'll get the desk sergeant
to send a telegram.

Right then.

It's my understanding that
there was a lot of nasty

business associated with the railroads.

What makes you think I'd
know anything about that?

Gun for hire, were you not?

Might know a thing or two, I suppose.

Such as?

Sometimes there was trouble.

People didn't take kindly to track
getting laid through their land.

People like Chester McGee.

If there was a fuss,

the railroad would...

mount an appropriate response.

Like hiring One-Tooth
Ackerson and Harry Bowler?

Or some other saddle
tramp without a conscience.

And they would convince
the landowner to sell?

Like I said,

they mount an appropriate response.

Ah, Sir, I'm glad you're here.

I've amassed all the trace evidence

from the two crime scenes.

Yes, I see that. Very good, George.

How did you get it to stay up like that?

Well actually, Sir, this
little invention of yours

has proven quite useful.

I can see real potential
for household use here.

It's a little sticky to use,

but I think if we devised
some sort of dispensing device,

we could be on to something.

- Geroge...
- Sir I've... I've already come up

- with quite a good name for it.
- Really?

"Constable Crabtree's
Household Adhesive Strips."

Oh, George.

"Crabtree and Murdoch's
Household Adhesive Strips"

Well, that's a lovely collection
of dirt you've got there.

Ah, thank you, Sir. It's a
bit overwhelming right now.

Yes, what we need is something to
help narrow our field of search.

Well, this might be of help.

It's from the Sheriff of Carson County.

Looks like there was quite a
few railroad land shootings.

And there's one name that is
of definite interest to us.

Indeed.

What is it, Sir?

A horse hair.

Oh, well, there are dozens
of horses in the show.

Yes, but only one white one.

Gentlemen I believe we'll
need to break out the armoury.

Gentlemen, what can we do for you?

Mr. Cody, we're here to make an arrest.

Well, that's great news. Ain't
that great news, Theodore?

Yes, Sir.

So who's the dirty dog, then?

Someone who wanted revenge
on Lightning and Jaws.

Someone who had access to your horse.

- My horse?
- Someone who...

Whoa, Theodore,

- what you doin'?
- Shut up, Cody.

Take it easy, son.

Teddy, put the gun down.

Whatever you've done, we
can settle it reasonably.

Too late to talk now,
isn't it? Don't even try it!

Drop them shooters too.

Drop them shooters? What are
you talking about, Theodore?

Okay, all right, okay, all right.

Teddy, we know about Chester.

- Chester McGee?
- His name wasn't McGee?

It was Jones.

Theodore Chester Jones, Sr.

And he wasn't a bad man, was he?

He was just a farmer.

Who happened to own some
land that the railways wanted.

All my pa ever wanted was to
raise a few head of cattle.

Then one day those two showed up,

sent to drive us off our land.

They were looking for
a reason to shoot him.

Daring him.

But my father never
took to violence. Never!

He tried to walk away.

They shot him in the back.

Left him to die in front of me!

Twelve years I've been
looking to put it right.

Twelve years I've been practicing my shot.

And then one day,

I saw their faces

- on a poster for your show.
- Theodore,

- I had no idea.
- Yeah, I don't suppose you did.

But then again, how could you?

You never were much on asking questions.

Teddy, what happened to your
father was a terrible crime.

But Buffalo Bill had nothing to do with it.

He used my father's death to make heroes

out of two cowardly murderers.

Teddy, your father was a good man.

A peaceful man.

He never would have wanted
things to end this way.

For his son to give rise
to another wild west story.

One where a young man would shoot and kill

Buffalo Bill Cody in cold blood.

Because that's all anyone
would ever remember.

The myth

would last much longer than the truth.

Give me the gun.

Give me the gun.

Well, I have to admit, this
might just be my favourite part:

when the whole thing comes down.

I should think the end would be somewhat

tinged with disappointment.

Well, the wild west ended a
long time ago, Mr. Murdoch.

But people still want
to know what it was like.

So every time we pull
up like this and move on,

it gives me a chance to bring
a little bit of it to 'em,

and that's what gives me my pleasure now.

Going to New York and Chicago and Boston,

the entire continent of Europe.

If I want to, I can go back to London

and drop in on my old friend Victoria.

Mr. Cody, it's been a pleasure.

- If you'll excuse me?
- All right, Inspector.

Mr. Murdoch, ?

what do you think's
gonna become of that boy

Well, he'll stand trial for
the crimes he's committed,

receive the appropriate punishment.

Same old thing. Another life wasted.

- And who will replace Hank and Jaws?
- Well,

perhaps it's best if some stories

from the wild west are left untold.

Thank you, Sir.

Inspector.

You know, last night was
the most fun I had since

Bill Hickock and I cracked
a bottle back in Tucson.

- The pleasure was all mine.
- Perhaps a farewell drink is in order.

While I am sorely tempted,

I'm afraid the answer must be no.

A friend of mine once
gave me a piece of advice.

He said, Don't try to be good;

- Try not to be bad.
- Sage advice indeed. Miss Oakley.

Say Hi to the missus for me.

You should have seen the look in his eyes.

Like he was possessed with a
bravery from the great beyond.

With no gun, no night stick;

armed only with his quick wits,

a silver tongue, and a
firm belief in the law;

he faced the lone gunman.

They called him

Murdoch.

George,

that's quite enough.

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