Original subtitles

(THEME MUSIC)

♪

♪

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

Have you talked to Detective Murdoch?

Both Murdoch and McWorthy think that arresting John makes sense.

- Apparently there's evidence. - Oof! Evidence, my eye.

- Our son hasn't done anything wrong! - I know that, Margaret.

I don't want you to set foot in this hospital

until you've cleared our son's name.

(KNOCKING) (DOOR OPENING)

Constable, as his doctor, I must ask that you wait outside.

Thank you, Dr. Ogden.

Let's see how you're healing.

I still can't feel my legs.

Can you move your toes for me?

(SIGHING)

John, it's possible that there's still swelling

near the spine which will abate in time.

But we have to consider...

- the possibility... - Am I interrupting?

We'll talk soon, all right?

I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner.

How are you?

They think I killed Lucille Palmer.

John, I...

I'm sorry.

Do you remember what you told me before?

"Saying sorry doesn't change anything, so

why waste energy in saying it"?

It sounds callous.

It's true.

Well, I mixed you up in this.

- And it's my fault. - No. It's...

Look, I knew Sutton was dangerous and I kept that from you.

And now they think I'm a murderer.

And I'm not.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

Toronto's new Chief Coroner.

You must have friends in high places.

I resent your implication. Mr. Richards.

- I've earned this position. - I'm sure.

Congratulations, Miss Hart.

Thank you, Inspector.

What did you want to talk to me about?

John doesn't remember shooting Mr. Sutton.

Also, John stated that he heard footsteps when he entered the room.

Mr. Sutton wasn't wearing any shoes.

And he was found seated holding the gun.

- Was someone else there? - Perhaps.

I've asked Miss Hart to test Mr. Sutton's hands

for any gun powder residue.

Just as the Detective suspected, I found no trace.

Sir, the man who shot John is still at large.

And I intend to find him.

(RISING MUSIC)

John went into that building to investigate Lucille Palmer's murder.

Perhaps whoever shot him did so to keep the truth from coming out.

Sir, could that have been Arthur Carmichael?

I mean, he pointed the finger at John.

- Bring him in, George. - Sir.

Your office is so dreary.

I didn't ask you here for decorating advice, Mr. Carmichael.

- Have a seat. - No, you asked me here

to blame me for something your boss's son did.

How well do you know Grant Sutton?

I knew he was a damn fool.

Violent, too.

We believe someone else may have been involved

the night that my constable was shot.

- Where were you? - I was at home.

Can anyone confirm this?

That might be tricky.

I was giving a party that night.

Only about 80 of my dearest friends and colleagues

can attest to my whereabouts.

(SOFT MUSIC)

Constable Crabtree.

You'll be pleased to know you can have your desk back.

- I've concluded my research. - Oh.

About your book...

What? The one you read without my permission?

Yes. Allow me to apologize again.

I didn't mean any offence. I...

I glanced at it, and then couldn't stop reading.

Oh, really?

- So you quite liked it. - Oh, I just tore through it.

The first three chapters were moving, honest, gripping.

But then... it rather falls apart

when the little men from Venus arrive. I mean,

really they just chase the main character around, and it becomes silly.

Silly? Well, thank you, Miss Newsome.

Considering I never asked you to read,

- let alone critique, my work. - I was only trying to help.

Yes, well, maybe next time, you can keep your help to yourself.

Arthur Carmichael has an alibi

for the shooting of Grant Sutton.

But we don't yet know his whereabouts

for the shooting of Lucille Palmer.

So, you have no idea where he was for...

four days?

So it would seem.

At any rate, he's our most compelling suspect.

Right.

Well, we know it wasn't Grant Sutton. I mean,

if it wasn't Carmichael, who else is there?

I hate to level such an accusation, but...

Inspector McWorthy may have been involved

in covering-up the murder.

You don't think he did it himself?

I don't know. But if he was involved in covering up one murder,

he may have been involved in covering up more.

Who did Lucille address the letter to?

It doesn't say.

She wrote that she was carrying a child

and wants the father to marry her.

- I swear, she never told me any of this. - Are you sure?

She was just trying to trap you.

Isabel...

I'm sorry I got so angry.

I forgive you.

I've never seen that letter.

It couldn't have been meant for me.

The piece of bullet they found in Miss Palmer came from your gun.

That's impossible. I didn't kill her.

I wasn't even there when Lucille was shot.

And no one else knew that you had been carrying a gun around,

did they John?

No.

You finally agreed to have a drink with me.

I felt like celebrating.

So all it took was you getting a raise.

Well, a drink for this promotion, and...

just think what we'll do the next time I get promoted.

But you're coroner now. What's higher than that?

I'm sure I'll think of something.

Will you be having a drink with any of the other inspectors?

No.

Just you.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

- What an awful place to die. - Indeed.

How did John Brackenreid ever fall in with such company?

Let's focus on the bullet's trajectory, George.

The bullet that killed Lucille Palmer

travelled straight through her heart

and exited just left of her ninth vertebrae.

Where was the body found?

On the floor next to the bed.

And the bullet?

In the mattress.

I suppose she was lying there in the bed, was shot,

tried to crawl away and ended up on the floor.

I don't think so.

Sir, the lads from Station House One

said they found the bullet in the mattress right here.

Well, that may be George,

but that's not the bullet that killed her.

That bullet exited her body.

Do you see any blood here?

Someone shot Lucille Palmer, then shot the mattress.

Planting a bullet from John's gun.

Whoever it was would have had to have gotten John's gun,

shot the mattress, then taken a shard of the bullet

and placed it inside Miss Palmer's body.

Was John's gun placed in the evidence lock-up at Station House One?

Yes, after he was shot.

I'm having George look at their evidence log book.

Excuse me, gentlemen. May I have a moment?

We're busy I'm afraid, Miss Hart.

I'm sorry. This may be important.

A few days ago, I noticed

that the spare key for the cold storage room was missing.

When exactly did you notice this?

Monday, I believe.

Whoever stole that key

could've planted the bullet shard in Miss Palmer.

They would've had to have taken John's gun out of evidence first.

Inspector McWorthy.

It was him, Murdoch.

He shot my son and then framed him for murder.

Yes, sir. And if that's the case,

he'll spend the rest of his days behind bars.

Thank you Miss Hart.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(SONOROUS VIBRATION)

(RISING MUSIC)

He was like this when I found him.

Fortunate for you.

Still, very odd.

He died from a blow to the back of the head.

Likely with this.

I'll have to examine it for fingermarks.

Who would want him dead?

Present company excluded, of course.

Oh, and I found this in his jacket pocket.

Let's see if it's familiar to Miss Hart.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

Is this the key to your cold storage room, Miss Hart?

Yes, where did you find it?

Inspector McWorthy's pocket.

- He stole it? - He must have.

In which case, he could have planted

the bullet fragment in Lucille Palmer's body.

Do you really think he would frame

- Constable Brackenreid for her murder? - It's possible.

He was hit in the back of the head with a large paperweight.

I believe you'll conclude that the cause of death

was blunt force trauma.

Of course. I'll get to work.

(DOOR CLOSING)

Where do you think it will land?

I have no idea.

I've dropped this marble from the same position every time.

Each time, the outcome is different.

- It shouldn't be. - (MARBLE CLATTERING)

Do you want a drink?

- Yes, please. - One for the lady.

So, are we to blame for the results of our actions

if the outcome is not predictable?

Of course we are.

Or do we just feel we should take responsibility

even though we have no control?

We have control.

John Brackenreid is lying in a bed

in the hospital

facing the possibility he may never walk again

because I refused to wait for a more experienced surgeon.

And my actions put you into the position you're in.

Or did they?

Perhaps the way things turn out is beyond our control.

- (MARBLE CLATTERING) - I don't believe that.

- Look at that. 100 points. - (CHUCKLING)

Is that the paperweight that killed McWorthy?

I believe so. I've obtained some fingermarks from it.

I'd like to compare them to Arthur Carmichael's.

Sir, weren't they friends?

I don't know if I'd go so far as to call them friends.

I believe McWorthy may have been in Arthur Carmichael's pocket.

Perhaps he drew the line at murder.

- Have you found anything? - Well, sir, I went down to Station House One

to have a look at the logbook. It's not there.

It's been subpoenaed by the Crown Attorney's office.

The Board hasn't met as of yet to decide on your position.

With all due respect, sir, that isn't why I'm here.

I need access to the Station House One's evidence room log book.

- I believe... - I wish I could help you, Detective.

But that log book is being held as evidence in another case.

- Sir, it's very important that I see that book. - I'm sorry.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Do you think he's telling the truth, sir?

Well, I'd certainly like to think so.

I might have a way of finding out.

It wouldn't be entirely legal...

Then perhaps it's best you don't tell me.

- Detective. - Miss Newsome.

Constable. I see they've let you out of the station.

Miss Newsome. Actually, I came by, I wanted to apologize.

I truly regret my harsh words. You were trying to give me some

constructive criticism on my book, and I...

well, I took it poorly, to say the least.

And I shouldn't have taken your manuscript.

Care to join me?

I haven't the time. In fact,

I have a favour to ask you.

Regarding the Crown Attorney's office.

That's why you apologized?

No, I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't very important.

Now, Detective Murdoch needs to see a page

from the log book from Station House One,

and you're the only person I know who could get that.

- Detective Murdoch involved in subterfuge? - Only very mildly.

Isn't he up for the inspector position?

He is, which is why we need to be very discreet about this.

Why is this book so important?

Well, that's a long story...

Then you can help me finish this sandwich while you convince me.

What kind of sandwich is it?

He was always such an athletic boy.

Always first in every race.

Margaret, you must stop talking like this.

I suppose we'll have to get him his own wheelchair now.

If they allow one in prison.

Mother, stop! I won't go to prison!

Then why is there a guard outside your door?

And why isn't your father out clearing your name?

- He will. Won't you, Father? - Yes, of course. And you

- are going to fully recover. - Oh!

Margaret, come here.

- I am just being realistic. - So am I.

That lovely girl might not want to wait for John to walk again,

and be exonerated for murder. Oh!

His life will be over before it's begun.

My legs...

The numbness is getting worse.

I've transcribed the entries from the log book

- for the day in question. - Can I see it?

- Thank you very much, Miss Newsome. - And that's not all.

I've managed to find files on Arthur Carmichael.

He was arrested for a variety of crimes,

but the Crown never brought them to trial.

- What sort of crimes? - Vandalism,

public intoxication, assault and battery...

Thank you. I have to show these to the detective.

Sir!

I've gotten two sets of fingermarks from this.

One presumably is Inspector McWorthy's.

- The other could be Arthur Carmichael. - Right.

You'll want to have a look at these.

Only one person signed into the evidence room

shortly after John's gun was checked in.

A... Constable Bauder.

- McWorthy could have sent him. - Sir, look at these...

files on Arthur Carmichael.

It seems every case built against him was eventually dropped.

And sir, they all went through the same Crown Prosecutor.

(MURDOCH): Allen Templeton...

Where did you get these?

Sir, these files show an escalation of violence

in Arthur Carmichael's actions.

And what's more, he kept getting away with it.

Not only are you accusing my office of malfeasance,

you had files purloined.

Leave it alone, Detective.

I can't just walk away from this, and you know that.

There are interests at play here bigger than either of us, Detective.

I'll tell you this only once:

stop this investigation.

Or what?

Or not only will you lose any chance at promotion to Inspector,

you'll lose your current position.

As will anyone else who is helping you.

(RISING MUSIC)

Hey, you.

Get out of here. Come on, get out of here.

HEY! I SAID GET OUT OF HERE! GO!

Constable Bauder.

Detective Murdoch.

- What do you want? - You signed into the evidence locker

at Station House Number One

on the night that Sutton and Constable Brackenreid were shot.

- So? - So, that night, a gun was stolen

and used to shoot a bullet into a mattress.

How does this concern me?

That bullet is being used to frame an innocent man.

I had nothing to do with that.

You're the only one who accessed the evidence locker that night.

Did you deliberately take that gun to falsely plant evidence?

Talk to us, Bauder, or so help me God,

we will pitch your body off this bridge!

Tell us the truth,

- or we will have your badge. - All right.

- All right, it was me. - Who put you up to it?

- Inspector McWorthy? - No... no, it wasn't McWorthy.

- Well, then who? - I don't know.

He found me while I was on my rounds that night.

An older gentleman, well-dressed.

He gave me precise instructions.

Get the gun, shoot the mattress...

He paid me $50.

How could I turn that down? I have a family.

A constable's salary isn't enough to feed four children.

So, all you did was shoot the bullet in the mattress?

McWorthy was to take care of the rest.

No, that's just it. The last thing the man said was,

"McWorthy can't know a thing about this".

Carry on, Constable.

This could mean someone else was protecting Arthur Carmichael.

Allen Templeton hinted at someone more powerful than him.

I'd be willing to wager that that someone

is Arthur Carmichael's father.

The Chief Crown Attorney.

What a mess.

(GROANING)

- Higgins! - Oh, George.

- Henry! Are you all right? - I don't... know, sir.

I... I was alone and some men...

I barely saw them, sir. Two of them rushed me

and two ran into your office.

- Are you all right? - Ah, yes. Go. Go.

- No! It's gone! - What were they after?

The paperweight that killed McWorthy!

(SOFT MUSIC)

I'm sorry, Detective, I am confused as to your intention.

Are you here to accuse me of something?

You covered up your son's petty crimes.

So you claim.

You wanted to protect your son. I understand that.

But we are now looking at murder.

Three murders,

and a police constable who may never fully recover from being shot.

None of this has anything to do with me.

There is a conspiracy to protect your son.

We believe Inspector McWorthy was involved.

- And others. - Others?

Someone with enough power and influence

to force Inspector McWorthy's hand.

And, when Mr. McWorthy got in the way,

have him killed.

And all of these people are meant to be protecting... Arthur?

- I hardly think him capable of murder. - I do.

And if so, he will go to prison,

as will everyone else who has been protecting him.

Well, this is all very interesting, Detective.

I hope you find the people you're looking for.

Inspector McWorthy's killer left

the murder weapon at the scene of the crime.

Some hired men ransacked my Station House and stole it.

That sounds like an impediment.

Well, not particularly in this case. You see,

I was able to document fingermarks from it.

You wanted to protect your son.

But when I catch whoever killed Inspector McWorthy,

he will be faced with a choice:

turn in all those who helped him, or hang.

How far do you think he'll be willing to go to protect you?

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(SIGHING)

No... nothing.

- Are you sure? - I could feel it yesterday, but...

It's getting worse, isn't it?

(SIGHING)

Doctor Ogden, what's happening?

I don't know.

Yet.

Excuse me.

(SENTIMENTAL MUSIC)

(CRYING)

- Has he gotten worse? - Who?

You only have one patient, Doctor.

He's losing sensation above the waist.

It moves higher every day.

Fantastic.

- What? - Think.

Acute damage to the spinal cord would be static.

If the paralysis is progressing,

the damage may not be permanent.

- Pressure? What could be causing that? - I've read about this.

Blood trapped in the spinal column

is forced upwards as the pressure increases.

And that could cause the paralysis?

Yes, but drainage could make it reversible.

- He'll need another surgery? - Yes, right away.

I... I can't do it.

- Why not? - I...

Even the thought of performing another surgery, I...

I simply can't.

I'll do it.

(SIGHING HEAVILY)

Will he walk again?

We can't know that for certain.

We're only guessing that this is the cause of his paralysis.

But if you're right it would save my legs.

If we're right, and if the surgery is successful, yes.

He already can't walk as it is.

What's the risk?

Well, the surgery is highly invasive.

Complications could arise and...

The risk is that the patient could die.

But I will perform the surgery,

and Dr. Ogden will assist.

So, this is what we should do?

- Tom, I can't say... - Do you believe that this is the best thing?

Yes.

Then do it.

(TENSE MUSIC)

The patient is stable.

We're clear to the spine, just need to drain it. Syringe.

To Dr. Ogden, please.

- Doctor, this is your surgery. - What are you doing?

- Finish the procedure! - You'll finish.

- I... I won't! - Yes, you will.

I'm pulling the stylus.

Insert the syringe.

- The patient needs you. - Doctor Dixon!

This is not a joke.

This procedure must be finished quickly and cleanly

- or the patient might... - Or the patient may die.

There's no one else to bring in here.

And I'm not going to do it. So, it's up to you.

It's up to you.

Save his life.

Dr. Ogden?

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

You bastard.

How could you do that?

What was that all about?

The surgery was a success.

If this ink gets on my furniture...

This won't take long, Mr. Carmichael.

Next time, please call ahead.

Then I'll know to be out.

Sir...

Are you quite sure?

If you don't mind, my driver has the Apollo idling.

You have an Apollo?

Indeed, I do. Picked it up a few weeks ago.

It's a beautiful automobile.

They only sell them in Chicago.

Were you in Chicago a few weeks ago?

Yes... I suppose I was.

Mr. Carmichael,

we have spent a great deal of time tracking your movements

over the past few weeks,

- and no one mentioned Chicago. - Yourself included.

- So, what? - So, when exactly

did you go off on this little sojourn?

Because from everything we've heard, you've been seen out

carousing in Toronto nearly every evening last month.

Except for the four days surrounding Miss Palmer's murder.

Fine. You caught me.

I went to Chicago a few days before Lucille was killed.

- And you decided not to mention that? - It slipped my mind.

An alibi for murder slipped your mind?

Are you gonna charge me with a crime or am I free to go?

Mr. Carmichael, why would you ever keep that from us? I mean...

- are you protecting somebody? - Good day, gentlemen.

The hotel!

That wasn't you.

We believed your last known whereabouts prior

to the four days unaccounted for was at the hotel

with Miss Palmer, beginning two days before she was killed.

But you weren't there.

You were in Chicago.

Which means the Mr. Carmichael

who was with Miss Palmer must have been...

Your father.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Mr. Carmichael.

- I'm afraid we're here... - I know why you're here.

You'll find everything explained in my confession.

It's quite simple, really.

I killed them all.

Sir... you can give us the details down at the Station House.

Please, come with us.

May God have mercy on my soul.

- NO! - NO!

In his confession, Carmichael took responsibility for everything.

He was the one having the affair with Lucille Palmer.

Arthur tried to absorb suspicion

by leaving out the fact that he had alibi.

- And John? - Well, Grant Sutton already knew about the affair.

Once John started investigating,

Carmichael tried to kill them both.

But John survived, so he tried to pin the murder on him instead.

- What about McWorthy? - He had found out what was going on

and wasn't going to keep quiet about it.

- Carmichael did it all on his own? - So it would seem.

If the son had any involvement,

the father covered for him one last time.

It's only a shame we didn't get the chance to hang him ourselves.

Sir, all of the charges against John have been dropped, of course.

I'm sorry it ever had to happen,

but we did have to follow the evidence.

I'm glad you did.

♪

He turned his back on his own patient!

What if I'd been unable to continue? What if I'd made a mistake?

He believed you would succeed.

It was cruel! And reckless!

- Unforgivable. - And what was the outcome?

Well, it was a success.

- John will likely regain his mobility. - Julia...

you were prepared to throw away your new career.

What was the outcome for you?

Can you explain this to me, Miss Newsome?

- It's from Deakins of Canada. - Yes!

They want to see more of my book!

Why is this a bad thing?

I'm wondering how they got a hold of it in the first place?

- I sent it to them, obviously. - Yes, I deduced that, Miss Newsome!

That's why I'm here waving my arms about in anger.

Well, that's a stupid reason to be angry.

You took it out of my wastebasket

- and sent it to them without my permission! - You're right!

It was wrong of me to take it. But something good has come of it.

Just like when you asked me to steal

- subpoenaed evidence from the Crown Attorney. - That is not the same...

- That is similar, but it is... - Then rip it up.

Rip it up right now. Go ahead!

It's obvious you're too afraid to write the rest of your book,

because if you do and it's not any good,

it'll prove you're not a real writer.

I'm already a real writer.

- No, you're not. - (GASPING)

You've written three chapters, plus some drivel about Venusians.

Oh, and that one about the mummies.

- You've read that? - Of course not, it's nonsense!

Now, what are you going to do? Give up?

Or write the rest of your book the way it's meant to be written?

(SOFT MUSIC)

(DOOR OPENING)

It seems this is the place to find Llewellyn Watts.

I like it here.

The light is pleasing.

I looked for you at the running club.

Well, I've given that up.

And replaced it with drink?

Can you think of anything better?

Detective Watts,

we may not know the outcome of our actions,

but I do know this...

There are no outcomes without action.

Hmm.

I see.

Would you care to join me for another?

I have things to do.

As I hope you do as well.

- Does this look familiar? - It does!

You were right. It was found in the alley just off of Church Street.

- Thank you. - Now, be mindful of your surroundings.

The constable will see you home.

Making yourself comfortable?

Listen to this. "I purchased a gun at a pawn shop

on the corner of Parliament and Queen Streets,

then went about to find Grant Sutton."

That's part of Mr. Carmichael's confession letter. What of it?

What happened to his other gun?

His other gun?

Only a few weeks earlier, he shot Lucille Palmer.

Then he bought a new gun to shoot Sutton?

- What happened to the first gun? - I expect he disposed of it.

- It was a murder weapon after all. - He never mentions it.

He provides multiple corroborating details about the gun

that killed Sutton and the paperweight that killed McWorthy.

But there are no details supporting his claim

he murdered Lucille Palmer.

Something's not right.

Not only was there no mention of the gun,

we never found a trace of the bullet.

Perhaps Carmichael collected it

and disposed of it along with the murder weapon.

But from whence?

You're right.

The bullet that killed Lucille Palmer passed cleanly through her.

It had to have struck something in this room.

And yet, there is no evidence

of a bullet hole to be found.

Perhaps the reason there is no sign of a bullet in this room

is because the bullet didn't end its trip in this room.

It's the same.

The striations are both a match for John's gun.

Impossible. John Brackenreid didn't kill her.

I don't believe he did either.

The question is

who had John's gun? And when?

Father was always a fool.

It wasn't right of Lucille to blackmail him,

but surely he didn't have to kill her.

And what was he doing with her in the first place?

They would have never met if it hadn't been for me.

- It's all my fault... - It's not your fault.

- Isabel, you didn't know. - I should have.

When he came home that night, he wouldn't even look at me.

Never in a million years

would I have thought that he'd just shot two people.

The night Sutton and I were shot?

Yes.

But you said you were on a train to Hamilton.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Even I didn't know he had that gun.

Well, someone must have.

- Otherwise John really did... - Wait.

Isabel knew.

She's in there with him now.

Why did you lie about where you were?

Why are you questioning me?

- Grant Sutton shot you... - No, he didn't.

Where were you, Isabel?

What are you doing?

John...

please...

just let me explain.

You took my gun, didn't you?

Your father didn't kill Lucille...

My father was too weak.

She would have ruined our family.

(SONOROUS VIBRATIONS)

- (GUNSHOT) - (GROANING)

Your father wasn't the one who shot me.

I had to do it. Do you understand?

- You tried to kill me! - I didn't have a choice!

You're a murderer!

I knew about you and Lucille.

OK? And I wanted to believe that you loved me!

- But now, I know that you really didn't! - What are you doing?!

OK?!

We could have been happy together, John.

And now look what you're making me do.

(GRUNTING)

- STOP FIGHTING IT! - (MURDOCH): POLICE!

OPEN THE DOOR!

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(GASPING)

GET OFF HIM!

Are you all right, son?

Yeah, I think so.

- It wasn't me, I didn't, I... - Enough.

It's over, Miss Carmichael.

You need to work on your choice of women, John.

I have terrible taste in women.

You think you were right.

Maybe you were.

But if you ever try anything like that again,

- I will have you fired. - I don't think I'll have to, Doctor.

I said anything like that.

I'll have my eye on you, Dr. Dixon.

I have my eye on you, too, Julia.

(GRUNTING)

I can feel them.

I don't think I can stand yet, but I can feel them.

You'll be back pounding the beat in no time.

I don't think so.

What?

I'm handing in my badge, Father.

I need something else.

- University? - No. I want to be an actor.

At least it's not dangerous...

Look, Father,

I'm sorry I let you down.

I wanted to follow in your footsteps...

but I can't.

You know I always fancied the roar of the crowd,

the smell of the grease paint.

I know.

Good on you, John.

You'll get to do what I never did.

But when you're making your mark on the stage,

you just remember one thing...

once upon a time, you used to be a copper.

And a bloody good one at that.

(SENTIMENTAL MUSIC)

Miss Newsome.

You're not working here any longer?

Mr. Templeton figured out where you got those files.

I've been fired.

- I'm sorry, I... - Save your breath.

I knew the risk when I decided to help.

You asked, but I chose to do it.

Just like you chose to finish your manuscript for that publisher.

And what makes you think I decided to do that?

The fact that you're not an idiot.

Not an idiot?

You know, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

I won't make a habit of it.

What are you going to do now that you're out of work?

I've had an offer already.

A defense firm in London wants me to sail immediately.

- You're leaving Toronto? - No.

I've refused.

Instead, I've convinced them to open a branch in Canada.

Or, rather, I will convince them.

There's a lot of crime here.

As soon as they see the statistics, they'll see that I'm right.

And if they don't?

- I don't understand the question. - (CHUCKLING)

Well, if you're staying around, then perhaps

you and I could have dinner or something?

Are you courting me?

- I suppose that... - Good.

- Then let's start with lunch. - (GRUNTING)

You are a remarkable woman, Miss Newsome.

Remarkable how?

Remarkably tall for one thing.

It's not me that's big, George.

It's the world that's small.

- You're back. - I am.

And I intend to train until I can beat you.

Llewellyn Watts. I never got your name.

Thomas Longboat. Good to meet you.

Now, let's go!

(SOFT MUSIC)

(MURDOCH): Could I have done this any differently?

You pursued the truth at great expense to yourself.

I hardly think that's a choice for William Murdoch.

Aren't you even a little disappointed that you aren't married

to Toronto's newest police inspector?

A little.

Oh.

(JULIA CHUCKLING) I am happier that I am married to you.

- Detective. - Miss Hart.

Are you happy with your choice?

What choice?

To be city coroner.

Of course!

This is all I've wanted for the last two years.

Now, there's just something about all this that

never added up.

Inspector McWorthy was killed

because he had turned on the Carmichaels.

I suppose he made the wrong choice.

That's just it.

He made his decision prior to the bullet fragment

being planted in Lucille Palmer's body.

He was left out of the cover-up.

He had the key to the cold storage room.

Who else could have done it?

I can think of only one person.

Well, they should be arrested.

If you can prove it.

I can't.

And perhaps never will.

A shame.

Shame indeed.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Good day, Miss Hart.

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