All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - 05x02 - Back and to the Left.TVRip.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

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Ah, pleasure to meet you.

A pleasure to meet you. Thank you
for your support. Enjoy the parade!

Hello there, how are you?

Well, Mr Hidell, no-one can say
that Toronto doesn't love us now.

As for members of the Orange Lodge,
yes, Mr Mayor.

As for our policies at City Hall,
that's up for debate.

Not today it isn't.

When the parade turns on
to Queen Street,

keep your eyes open
for anyone concealing hands,

handkerchiefs, newspapers, hands
in pockets, that sort of thing.

You're taking the threats against
the Mayor's life seriously? We can't
take any chances, George. Sir.

Another summer,
another bloody Orange parade.

At least the crowd looks cheerful.

They're Protestants here. Wait till
the parade cuts through Corktown.

See how cheerful everybody is then.

Why does the parade have to go
through Corktown?

It's all about rubbing
the Catholic noses in the dirt.

Take away the Catholics,

there's nothing to parade about.

That was a bloody gunshot!

Driver! Go! Go!

This is good.

Mayor Hopkins, are you hit?

The bullet just passed through.

Oh!

Yes, sir, I'm afraid it did.

George! Detective! Sir,
we're getting conflicting reports.

Some people think the shot
came from this direction,
others think from here,

behind these packing crates.

No, George.
What they heard was an echo.

Let's see... The carriage was here.

So the shot must have come from...

there.

Was that a gunshot I heard just now?

It was. Where were you when you
heard it? I was on the stairs.

I was coming down to see the parade.
Your name, ma'am? Judith Lance.

Have you see anyone else
on these stairs? A man passed by
with a carpet a few moments ago.

Check the upper floors.

You there! Stop! Identify yourself!

Leonard Bowers. What's your
business here? I'm the janitor.
What's happening?

Who are you?

Toronto Constabulary.

What's your name and what business
do you have in this building?

Clay Miller. I own this building.

Do you have a key to this door?

Yes.

Yes, of course.

Sir.

What have you, George?
The building is mostly empty, sir.

Everyone was likely outside,
waiting for the parade.

There was a janitor
on the third floor landing.

What's his name? Leonard Bowers.
That's right. He works for me.

Mr Miller...

Who rents this space?

No-one at the moment.

A shell casing, sir.

No sign of the shooter,
but the roof door was open.
He likely used the fire escape.

Nevertheless, Henry, have constables
do a thorough check of the building.

Mr Miller, you have a camera.

Did you take any photographs
prior to the shooting?

I did, yes.
Then I'll be needing your camera.

George, Henry, confiscate every
camera out there today. Yes, sir.

We found where the shot
came from, sir.

What about the shooter? Must have
slipped away with the crowd.

Bloody hell. Well, let's round up
the usual trouble makers.

Who would they be, sir?
The Irish Catholic, of course.

Sir, I'm Catholic.

Are you a trouble-maker?

Start with the known agitators,
and let's see where we are.

You were found two blocks
from the shooting.
What were you doing there?

I was waiting to see the parade.

Why would a Catholic man
want to watch the Orangemen march?

I love a good parade.

You were arrested
last year for inciting a riot.

You once threatened
to firebomb the Orange Lodge.

I've seen the error of my ways.

Where were you between 11.30
and noon?

I was having lunch with a friend.
Sean Gallagher's his name.

Mr Gallagher, are you
at all familiar with Liam Cuddy?

Indeed I am.
I've known him almost 20 years.

Oh! When did you see him last?

Sitting in your hallway,
wondering what he's doing here,
like the rest of us.

Before that? We were having
a pint and a beef stew
in Murphy's lunch counter.

Until what time?

Until shortly after noon, I'd say.

Sir, I've conducted...

Detective Murdoch,
I see you've returned.

Chief Constable, yes, I have.

Congratulations on your promotion.

Yes, that's right, you left town
before I was appointed.

Quite suddenly as I recall. Almost
as if you were fleeing justice.

What have you got, Murdoch?

Sir, I've interviewed
all of the known Irish agitators
and all of them claim alibis.

Well, it'll take a couple of days
to check them all out.

Until you do, all of the suspects
remain in custody.

That's impossible. My jail cells
are fit to burst as it is.

One of these men is the killer.

Which means the rest of them
are not.

We detain them all,
it could cause riots in the streets.

Do you really want a recreation of
the Battle Of The Boyne in Toronto?

Well, have it your way.

But find me the killer... and soon.

This is a Protestant city.

The Irish Catholics are not
the only people who can riot.

William!

Julia. I'd heard you were back.
You look...

Uh, well, you're...
you're married now. I...

Um...

Do I look that different?

No, no, of course not.
What I meant to say is...

Well, my best wishes to you
and Darcy.

Well, that's very kind of you,
thank you.

And I apologise for not being
able to attend.
I think I understand why you didn't.

Julia...

We must accept the decisions
we've made, William.

It's the only way
to move on with our lives.

Now, how can I help you, Detective?

Have you completed your post-mortem
on Alderman Hidell?

It's being done as we speak.

My protege, Dr Grace,
is taking the lead on this case.

Your protege? She's more
than capable, I assure you.

Death was instantaneous.

The bullet entered
the victim's right temporal lobe
at approximately 22 degrees.

It deformed immediately
after penetration,

resulting in the massive wounds
transecting the brain.

But I'm curious...

What kind of bullet
can enter a man's skull,

cause extensive internal damage,
and yet not exit the cranium?

Certain high-velocity rounds
tend to deform faster upon impact,
leading to less penetration.

In this case,
it was a centre-fire 30-30.

Mmm.

Who would use this type
of ammunition? Hunters,
farmers, sportsmen.

But you, of course,
knew that already.

Dr Ogden tests me at every turn.

Please don't feel
you have to do the same.

Dr Grace, Detective Murdoch
is among the best in his field.

This comes from experience,
and deserves respect.

It's quite all right, Julia.
Julia?

Yes. Please excuse me, Dr Ogden.

Please, William.

Is the bullet's trajectory
through the Mayor's hat

consistent with the entry wound
in Alderman Hidell's skull?

The bullet passed through
the hat at an angle of 12 degrees.

But entered Alderman Hidell's
skull at 22 degrees.

It is my theory that
at the moment of impact,

Alderman Hidell's head
was tilted ten degrees to the right,

perhaps
leaning into the conversation.

Mmm... A single shot, then,
intended for the Mayor,
but killing Alderman Hidell instead.

That would be my conclusion.
Dr Ogden?

I concur.

Very good. Dr Grace,
it was a pleasure to meet you.
Thank you for your insights.

Dr Ogden, once again,
my regards to Darcy.

Sir?

What have you, George?

The photographs from the confiscated
cameras and some slides and prints.

There's still some moving-picture
film to be developed.

Anything of interest? Yes, sir.

See this chap
in the background here?

I believe you interviewed him
earlier today. Yes, George.

That's Liam Cuddy.

He told me he wasn't near
the building
at the time of the shooting.

I'd say that carpet he is carrying
would easily conceal a rifle.

Most people would handle a rifle
cartridge with their thumb,

index finger and possibly
their middle finger.

Now, the print I recovered from this
shell casing is the wrong pattern

and too small
to be a thumb print. But...

It's just the right size...

to match Liam Cuddy's
index finger.

So we have our man?

Not anymore. I convinced
the Chief Constable to release
all of them earlier today.

On what basis?
Not enough evidence.

But... here it is.

And I'll be sure
not to let him go this time.

Toronto Constabulary.
Liam Cuddy, show yourself.

Go.

Ah!

On your feet.

Who are you? Marianne Cuddy.

You have no right to trespass
like this. Where's Liam?

I don't know. He left for work
this morning.

Crabtree, check the apartment.
Liam's done nothing wrong.

He lied to an officer of the law
investigating a murder.

We have proof he was in the area
just before the shooting.

What shooting? The Orange parade.
Don't play silly buggers with me.

I'm Catholic, I don't pay any
mind to that parade. I wasn't there.

I found this in the closet.

Ah.

A centre-fire 30-30.

Imagine that.

Liam would never shoot anybody.
It wasn't him! He was set up!

If you wish to help Liam,
tell us where he is.

I honestly have no idea.

We had him, locked up,
and what did we do?

We let him walk out, of course!
Just brilliant.

Sir, we had no more reason to hold
Liam Cuddy than any other suspect.

Send out an alert to all stations.

I've taken care of that.

Sir, the late edition
already has the story,
with a picture of Liam Cuddy.

How did they know he's our suspect?
First to tell the story
sells the paper, George.

Good thing. With his face
all over the city, it shouldn't be
too difficult to pick him up.

Again!

Crabtree, I want you, Higgins,
and every available Constable out on
patrol, looking for Liam Cuddy. Sir.

Well, get a move on!

Aren't you glad
you came home, Murdoch?

It seems the whole Orange Day
parade just smacks of being
a sore winner. How so?

Well, every year, the Protestants
want to remind the Catholics
that they lost a battle.

One battle 200 years ago.

Ah, it's a simple show
of pride, Henry.

Woah!

You call that pride, George?

There's nothing
on Liam's whereabouts yet.

Any luck with the rifle?
Yes, sir. I've lifted two sets
of finger marks.

Liam Cuddy's,
and his wife Marianne's.

Judging by the residue
in the barrel...

the gun was fired very recently.

That's it, then. Enough to put
a rope around Liam's neck.

Yes, sir, I suppose it is.

Hey! You there!

What's that all about?
Crabtree.

Oh, my god. It's Liam Cuddy.

Mr Cuddy, can you hear me?

We'll get you some help.
I'll be right back.

You're going to be all right.

It wasn't me.
What did you say?

I'm just a patsy.

George, did you get a good look
at the men running from the alley?

No, sir. I just found these
around the corner.

Looks like the killer
discarded the evidence.

Do you think he was deliberately
targeted, sir? Detective Murdoch...

Station House Three just arrested
a gang of Orangemen for assaulting
an Irish Catholic, sir.

One of them wasn't wearing shoes.

Or boots.

Listen, I was the one
who got beat down.

I was going home after pints,
and a bunch of God-loving Catholics
knocked me down, took my boots.

How do you explain your arrest?

Well, I chased after them, and
by the time I caught up with them,

my mates were already swinging fists
with these bastards!

Then the police show up,
haul me off,

and the only thing I got was
my arse kicked and my boots stolen!

Those aren't mine.

Try them on. I insist.

So I'm a size ten. What of it?

Same as half the men in this city.

With Liam dead, someone saved
the Crown attorney a pile of work.

If we assume his guilt, sir.
All we have at the moment
are two unsolved murders.

If I may say, I think we should
consider Liam Cuddy's dying words.

He dismissed himself
as being "just a patsy". Yes.

What the bloody hell's a patsy?

It's an Irish expression, sir,
for "unknowing dupe."

Well, that's bollocks. We've got
Liam's finger marks on his rifle,

and on a shell-casing recovered
from the scene of the crime.

He lied about where he was at the
time of the shooting. He had "guilt"
written across his forehead.

Exactly, sir. I find it odd that he
would only admit to being a patsy.

I mean, as a Catholic,
is he not supposed to confess
his sins before he dies?

Crabtree, has it ever occurred
to you that a murderer
can also be a liar?

Even to the Great Almighty?

Yes, but shouldn't we give Liam
the benefit of the doubt before
we condemn him posthumously?

Show him the photograph.

Sir, this is a picture of Liam Cuddy
entering the Miller building.

Look at the reflection
in this window.

It's the City Hall clock tower.
Note the time, sir.

One minute after 12. How's that?

It's a reflected image.

Right, right.
So it's one minute before noon.

That's pretty tight, isn't it?

Did Liam Cuddy have time
to enter the building,

set up his rifle, take the shot,
all in less than 60 seconds?

You better find out.

According to the photograph, he was
standing roughly here, George.

Shall we assume the rifle's
loaded? It could add four seconds
to our time inside the building.

Right. Assume
it's loaded for the first run.

The first run?

Oh, boy.

All right, George. On my mark.

Go!

Take time to line up a proper shot.

Bang.

Right. Stop there, George.

I thought we'd time the escape
as well, sir. No need. We're already
at the 75-second mark.

It's unlikely Liam Cuddy
had time to make the shot.

Let alone escape
from the fourth floor. Exactly.

Yet a witness claims to have seen
a man running up the stairs
with a rolled-up carpet.

I was right here on the third floor
when he passed me by.

On his way to the fourth floor. Yes.

He was in such a rush, he nearly
hit me on the head with the carpet.

But he apologised.
I thought that was very nice.

And what then? Well, I continued
downstairs to catch the parade.

That's when I heard the loud bang.

You heard the gunshot after the man
passed you on the stairs?

Yes, that's right.

Thank you, Mrs Lance.

Sir, if the gunshot came from
the second floor while Liam
was heading to the fourth,

there's no way he could have pulled
the trigger. He was a patsy.

So it would seem, George.

Mrs Lance was standing
on the third floor landing

when Liam Cuddy passed by her.
That was before the shot was fired.

You think she's a reliable witness?

She seemed fairly sharp to me, sir.

And the shot
came from the second floor?

It's consistent with the angle
of the shot through the Mayor's hat

and the relative height
of the two men.

It's also where we found
the spent shell casing.

Which you now think was planted?

There's no other explanation, sir.
Liam Cuddy was set up.

Some diligence could have
uncovered this before we announced
Cuddy as our chief suspect.

We weren't given the opportunity,
were we? This is bad news. The city
believes we've got the killer.

The Orangemen are calm.
The Catholics are cowed.

If this gets out,
it could set them all off again.

And the parade has been
rescheduled for two days from now.

Could be a blood bath. We need
to re-interview all the witnesses.
Who provided Cuddy's alibi?

I don't think
we're looking at a Catholic, sir.

And how's that?

Sir, if the shooting was motivated
by hatred toward the Orange Lodge,

why then set up a fellow Catholic?

Yes, you lot do like
to stick together, don't you?

This doesn't get out. Conduct your
investigations as if you're tying up
loose ends. Is that understood?

The liver
is a treasure house of information.

A cursory inspection of this liver
tells us he was a heavy drinker.

Further analysis
will no doubt confirm it.

So why have you chosen to work here?

As opposed to
the land of the living?

I don't have the patience to adopt
a cheerful bedside manner.

And you, Doctor?

I suppose I see myself
as an agent of the law.

Detective Murdoch and I have brought
many criminals to justice.

I've found it
to be richly satisfying.

"Found it?"
Oh, yes, I meant "find" it.

Like I said, I don't know anything.

Mrs Cuddy, I understand your
reluctance to speak to the police.

I, too, am Catholic.

It's my intention
to clear your husband's name.

But I need to know everything
he's told you.

He came home wild with fright.

He showed me a rifle
he had wrapped up in a carpet.

He said he found it at the office.
Which office?

Where he was delivering
the carpet to.

The rifle was just
leaning against the desk.

Why did he take it? It was
his rifle. He recognised it.

What was it doing there?

Someone must have taken it
and put it there.

He was set up.

Yes. A regular Patsy Bolivar,
he was. I can prove it, too.

This is his waybill for the carpet
he was delivering.

It's says right there.
"Must deliver by 12 noon."

Now why would they say that
if they didn't want him to be there,
right at that time?

Yes, that's my carpet.
I had it sent out to be cleaned.

It was delivered by Liam Cuddy.

I never received it.

Did you ask for it to be
delivered to your fourth floor
office before noon? I believe I did.

I couldn't expect my staff
to miss the Orange Parade,

waiting for a carpet
to be delivered.

Don't you find it strange
that the man delivering your carpet

was the same man accused of an
assassination attempt on the Mayor?

I imagine
that was his excuse for being there.

You took this photograph,
did you not? I did.

May I ask, what were you taking
a photograph of?

I guess
I was just recording the day.

Oh. So I suppose we're just lucky
that you happened to take
this photograph at this exact time?

May I ask the purpose
of this interview?

Just tying up loose ends.

Sir, I spoke to Liam Cuddy's boss.
He left the carpet cleaners at 11am.

It's a 20-minute walk
to Mr Miller's office.

Then he should have arrived
well before noon.

I wonder what took him an hour?

Perhaps someone held him up.

We were having a pint and a
beef stew at Murphy's lunch counter.

Until what time?
Until shortly after noon, I'd say.

Mr Gallagher, this photograph was
taken shortly before noon yesterday.

What of it?

You claimed you were with Liam Cuddy
until after noon.

I was wrong about the time. I bought
the man lunch. I wasn't lying.

Do you often buy him lunch?

I wanted to talk with him.
What about?

Liam was a firebrand.
He liked to stir things up
with the Orangemen.

As a businessman and leader
of the Irish community,

I felt obliged to impress upon him

that such behaviour
was in conflict with our interests.

I thought I had succeeded.

Is Gallagher involved, then?
I have no proof, sir.

But I can't think of a better way
to time Liam Cuddy's arrival
at the murder scene.

You think he set him up?
He knew where Liam lived.
Had access to his rifle.

The question is, why.
Why would he set him up?

Sir, I arranged the photographs
chronologically.

I've noticed something
very interesting.

See these two chaps
in the background.

Note that this man is pointing

in exactly the same direction
as these witnesses are here.

This photograph was taken
after the shooting.
But this one was taken beforehand.

He's pointing to where the shot
came from, before the shot was fired.

That's Alderman Ketchem.

Look who he's speaking to.
Do you recognise the sideburns?

Curious.

Now what would a warehouse stacker
like Jack Leary be doing
chatting up an Alderman?

They're both Orangemen. Oh,
but they're not like Masons, sir.

A man like Leary
wouldn't mix with the toffs.

Right, then, George,
look into why an Aldermen
might want to have the Mayor killed.

Remember, be discreet.
As far as anyone's concerned, Liam
Cuddy's our only suspect. Yes, sir.

And George, there was
a moving picture of this.
When will that be developed?

I'll check into it, sir.

Sir, I believe
I've discovered something.

As you know, a few years back,
City Council appointed
a Board Of Control,

comprised of three aldermen.
Well, sir, according
to my sources at City Hall...

What sources?

Well, sir, my Aunt Petunia
works at the lunch counter
where the Mayor takes his meals.

She said she overheard the Mayor
speaking with a colleague about how
the Board had become too powerful.

He was going to break up
the Board Of Control, and that's
why they tried to kill him.

Who is "they", George?
Well, sir, everyone who stood
to benefit from the status quo.

Business owners, contractors,
the members of the Board themselves.

The whole... call it
the municipal industrial complex.

George, the victim
was part of the Board.

Well, sir, it's my belief that
Hidell was the only one
who was not one of the conspirators.

Hold on, Murdoch,
Crabtree may be onto something.

The Board Of Control
oversees lucrative contracts,
worth millions of dollars.

There are powerful interests
at stake.

Right, then, George, bring in
Alderman Ketchem for a conversation.

Sir.

Who were you speaking with
in this photograph?

I don't know his name.

What were you talking about?

I don't recall. Why?

He's a suspect in this case.

I thought you had your suspect.

We believe more than
one person was involved.

What were you pointing at?

I don't remember.

It was the open window the shot
came from, before it even happened.

Are you suggesting I somehow
had foreknowledge of this?

The Mayor wanted to break up
the Board Of Control.

As a controller, you stood
to lose a great deal of power.

Even if one
were to accept your absurd premise,

I'd have been no further ahead
by killing the Mayor.

How's that?

His replacement would have been
the head controller, Alek Hidell.

Alek wanted to break up
the board too.

Could they both have been targeted?

With a single bullet, sir?

Two birds with one stone.

Even if it were physically
possible to penetrate both skulls
with a single bullet,

those skulls would have to be
in perfect alignment.

Hard enough to set up even
if the victims were co-operating.
And why bother?

If the intention was to kill both,
then why not simply keep shooting,
until the task was done?

The bullet entered the right
side of Alderman Hidell's skull.

Now that we've removed
the calvaria, the skull cap,

and pulled back the dura,
you can see that the bullet

travelled in a downward trajectory,
stopping just above the left ear.

It's that downward angle
that troubles me.

It's inconsistent with the bullet's
trajectory through the Mayor's hat.

Well, Dr Grace speculated that
his head was tilted to the right,
at the moment of impact.

But it wasn't.

You see, both men are facing forward
just prior to the shot.

My goodness, you're right.

Now watch, as the bullet strikes,
the Mayor's hat pitches forward
and to the right,

and Alderman Hidell's head
goes back and to the left.

It's as if the bullet entered
from this side, reversed direction

and instantaneously went through
Hidell's head. A magic bullet.

Or there were two shots
coming from opposite directions.

Impossible. Both men are seated side
by side. To shoot one you would
have to shoot the other.

Unless...

Julia, this photograph was taken at
the exact same moment as this frame,

but from a slightly different angle.

If we were to merge the two
using a stereoscope...

You could reproduce the illusion
of depth. Very clever, William.

Julia... Have a look.

Oh, my goodness!

Look, William, they're not sitting
side-by-side after all.

They couldn't have been
shot by the same bullet.

No, the bullet that killed Hidell
came from the left.

And the bullet that went through
the Mayor's hat
must have come from the right.

You were right,
there were two shooters after all.
You never cease to amaze, Julia.

We've always made a good team.

Two shooters? Yes, sir.

The bullet that killed
Alderman Hidell
came from Clay Miller's building,

but the bullet that passed
through the Mayor's hat...

Came from behind the crates
at the other side. Exactly, George.

Sir, what I assumed was an echo
was in fact, a second shot.

Which would explain
the angle of the bullet's path
through Hidell's skull.

It didn't come from the second
floor. It came from the third floor.

So who else was in the building
other than that old girl?

You say you were on the third floor
at the time of the shooting, and yet
you saw nothing. That's true.

What were you even
doing there at that time?

I thought Mr Miller
gave his employees time off
to watch the parade.

Just the office folk.
I'm the janitor.

And how long have you
been at the job, Mr Bowers?

Mr Miller hired me two weeks ago.

Is he our trigger man?

One of them, I believe,
but we have no proof.

What's the plan, then?
Keep the janitor in custody?

For now. George and Henry
are going through his room.

In the meantime, sir, I find it
curious that Clay Miller

is connected to this incident
in so many different ways.

That's right. I hired
Leonard Bowers about two weeks ago.
Good worker.

Why was he not given the same
time off as your other employees?

He was. I suppose
I forgot to tell him.

Mr Miller, you had a carpet cleaned
and delivered by a supposed
assassin at a very specific time.

You took the photograph that proved
that man was in that building,
at that time.

Haven't we discussed this?

Liam Cuddy wasn't the shooter.

Our prime suspect is now the man
you hired barely two weeks ago.

The same man
that remained in the building

when all of your other employees
went outside.

Are you suggesting
I conspired to kill Mayor Hopkins?

Mayor Hopkins
and Alderman Hidell, yes.

I don't even know Hidell.
And the Mayor?

He's one of my closest friends.
Hell, I funded his campaign!

He's not my only friend, either.
I have a lot of friends.

Ask your Chief Constable.
He's one of them.

Sir, a moment.

Have a seat, Mr Miller.

Retrieved from Leonard Bowers' room.
It's a centre-fire 30-30.

We also found this membership card
for the Toronto Rifle Club.
Very good, George.

That's not all, sir. Guess who else
was a member there? Enlighten me.
Shoeless Jack Leary.

So we were in the same rifle club.
What of it?

You also know Alderman Ketchem.

What were you two talking about?

I don't remember.

What's he pointing at?

Pigeons.

Pigeons? Now I remember. We had
a nice conversation about pigeons.

Interesting fact, did you know
that pigeons mate for life?

We've got nothing that will
support a charge,
and less than a day to hold them.

Oh, bloody hell.

And that's your case
against these men? Are you both mad?

Sir. Let me summarise, if I may.

You've arrested a man because
he was a member of a gun club.

You've arrested another man
because he was a member
of the same gun club.

Oh, and he once wore socks outdoors.

You suspect Clay Miller
because he had his carpet cleaned.

And Alderman Ketchem
is clearly a suspect
because he points at pigeons.

Am I missing anything here?
Sir, the fact that there were
two shooters...

Tells me that there's one other
person involved.

One, not the baker's dozen
that you seem intent on conjuring.

Who's the second shooter?
Someone from
the Catholic community, obviously.

They were the ones making threats.
Against the Mayor.
Why target Alderman Hidell?

I don't know.

But what I do know is that
your evidence against these men
is laughably inadequate.

He's right, you know.

We don't have enough evidence
to hold them much longer.

Bloody hell. We'll be releasing them
just before the parade.

This might sound like
a daft question, Murdoch,
but would you care for a drink?

Thank you, no.

I thought the Klondike
might have loosened you up a bit.
It'd do you good.

Well, that's my philosophy, anyway.

Whenever there's time, always have
a drink. That's what I say.

Especially with that bloody Giles
snooping around all the time.

He has us on notice, Murdoch.

Enjoy the present,
that's what I say. One never knows.

Sir, both shots
were meant to coincide with
the twelfth stroke of noon. Why?

To make us think there
was just one shot, I suppose.
But why? Why was it necessary?

Well, to make us think that...
Bloody hell, Murdoch.

They wanted us to think
they were shooting at the Mayor.

When in fact
they were shooting at Hidell.
And only Hidell.

But why go to all that trouble?
Why not just bash him
over the head in a dark alley?

They wanted Alderman Hidell's death
to appear accidental.

As though he were
struck by a misguided bullet
intended for the Mayor.

So what's the motive?

Alderman Hidell
was the head controller, sir.

The head controller
reviews all city contracts.

Perhaps he stumbled
across something.

George! Sir.

Bring in all of Hidell's files

and subpoena Ketchem's files
as well.

At this time of night, sir?
Wake up a judge if you have to.

Sir. What have you, George?

An undertaking by the city-owned
Toronto Water Works
to expand the city's pipelines.

Guess who was awarded the contract
to oversee the project?
Clay Miller.

And the contractor hired to build
the sewers and water supply lines
was? Sean Gallagher.

George, who authorised this project?
Alderman Ketchem.

You allocated over $600,000
of taxpayer money
to a water works initiative.

That seems a bit excessive to me.
Is that so, Detective?

I didn't know you were an expert
on the costs of city infrastructure.

I'm not. But Clay Miller
was the highest bidder,
and you awarded him the contract.

I imagine some pockets
were lined with that.

This deal is rife with corruption.

And Alderman Hidell found out
about it. You have no proof.

I have Alderman Hidell's files.

Something I never would have
looked into had his death
been an "accident."

But it was murder,
and you will be going to jail.

You can follow this trail
as far as you want, Detective,

but you will never pin
Hidell's murder on me.

We have motive, sir.

Yes, a motive, but all our evidence
is entirely circumstantial.
We need a confession, Murdoch.

Sir, I think I know how to get one.

Mr Gallagher,
we know you're involved.

If you're willing to talk,
we'll make a deal.

You wouldn't be offering a deal
if you had any evidence.

Perhaps.

But that's the trouble
with conspiracies.

The chances of getting caught
increase exponentially
with every added person involved.

How many were involved in this?
Alderman Ketchem? Clay Miller?

The two shooters?

And that's just the ones
we know about thus far.

It only takes one person to talk.

And if that's not you, Sean, the
noose goes around your neck as well.

What kind of deal?

They needed a patsy.

Who better than a known Catholic
rabble-rouser to deflect the
real reason for the assassination.

How did you find your shooters?

Clay Miller knew one of them.
He'd hunted with him.

Said he was the best shot
he'd ever seen.

'Miller said the best place to do it
was during the parade.

'With the death threats
the Mayor had been receiving,
he was sure the police...'

It was all Clay Miller's idea.

'It was a foolproof plan.'

Well, gentlemen, it would appear
that you were right,
and I was wrong.

That's big of you to admit.

We can continue with murder charges
against Alderman Ketchem,

Clay Miller and our two shooters,
Bowers and Leary.

But not Sean Gallagher,
as per his plea bargain.

Yes, it's a pity that
a guilty person has to go free.

But that does tend to happen
here, doesn't it?

Gallagher is not free, sir.
He framed a member
of his own community for murder.

They'll likely kill him
before the others hang.

At the very least,
he's a ruined man.

Sounds like justice to me.

Julia...

I hear you've solved your case.

Thanks in a large part to you,
as per usual.

Yes, well. I'm afraid you'll have
to rely on Dr Grace from now on.

I beg your pardon?

I'm leaving, William.

I've decided to set up my own
private practice, here in Toronto.

Are you quite sure?
Your value here is...
We both know why, William.

If we'd forgotten, we were
reminded of it the last few days.

I just can't.

I'd hoped to leave
before your suspension was up.

But I had so much to teach Dr Grace
and, well...

I did want to say goodbye.

Goodbye, William.

Goodbye, Julia.

And thank you.

For what?

For being honest.

Above all,
I have always respected that.

Always.

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