All language subtitles for murdoch.mysteries.2008.s04e13.dvdrip.xvid-ingot

It's all right, dear.

Whereabouts?
Upstairs.

Ah! Morning, Higgins.
George.

What have we...?

Sweet mother of...

Is that a turtle costume?

He's Randolph Littlefair, a guest
of the Reda family last night.

They had a costume party here.
Has Detective Murdoch been notified?

No, I telephoned his boarding house
and got no answer. That's odd.

You'd best help with the interviews.

George, I just found
Detective Murdoch. What?

Sir?

Sir! Ah!

What?

George...

Sir?

There's been a murder
in the next room.

What are you doing here?
Are you all right?

Why are you dressed like that?

George, did you say
someone's been murdered? Yes, sir.

A Mr Littlefair. He's been beaten
to death. Just through here.

No sign of the rest of it so far,
sir.

Perhaps the killer used the mallet until it
broke and then finished him off using this clock?

William! Are you all right?

I'm not sure. I believe
I'm still experiencing the effects.

More than eight hours later? The effects of
what? Something I drank last night, George.

Oh, my! It's the Mock Turtle. Yes.
The Mock Turtle?

Dr Ogden and I were attending a party last
night in honour of the late Lewis Carroll.

Alice's Adventures In Wonderland?
I was the Mad Hatter.

Lividity suggests he died
roughly eight hours ago.

I'd say 11.35, to be precise,
Doctor.

Which means that Mr Littlefair died
when we were all here.

Sir? I believe this is the handle to the croquet
mallet. Very good, Henry. Where did you find it?

Sir, it was under the bed
you were sleeping in.

How did part of the murder weapon
get under your bed?

Oh, and why were you sleeping there in
the first place? It's a long story, sir.

Bad news, I'm afraid, sirs. There are only two sets of finger marks on the mallet
- the victim's...

And the other set was mine.
Someone's trying to pin this on you.

That would appear to be the case, sir.
Well, we'll get to the bottom of it.

I can't be a part of this investigation, sir.
We should get someone from outside the station.

In the meantime, it would appear we have
our prime suspect in this murder case...

Me.

Giles? Why Giles?

Yes. No, I understand.
Yes, sir.

Chief Constable Stockton is sending Inspector
Giles from Station House number three.

He's to have complete authority over the
investigation. I suppose there are worse fates, sir.

Inspector Giles is
a thorough investigator.

Once he sets his sights on a suspect
that's usually the end of them.

I'm sure you're over-stating the
case, sir. Well, we'll see, won't we?

How are you feeling, William?
Somewhat more like myself.

It goes to my theory. I think you were drugged.
I'd like to take a blood sample to prove it.

I would appreciate that. But with your wedding so
close, I'm sure you have more pressing concerns.

More pressing than clearing you of a
possible murder charge? I think not.

Doctor, did you come into my room
last night?

I looked in on you at about 11,
but I didn't enter the room.

That must be it then.
I seem to remember someone...

Did you speak to me?

No.

Sir, we found this tucked
into your hat band.

It's the poem. What was it doing
in your hat band?

It's written in reverse writing.
I can't make any sense of it.

Murdoch, Dr Ogden, I believe you know
Inspector Giles? Doctor. Detective.

Well, I'm done here. If you'll excuse me...
Actually, Doctor, I would appreciate a word.

I understand you were also
at the Reda house last night? Yes.

Then as a material witness I would ask that
you refrain from communicating with the suspect.

Is that really necessary? Yes, it
is. When you're ready, Detective.

I conduct all my interviews in
private, Inspector, without exception.

You're under my roof, Giles. If you like, I could
move the interview to Station House number three.

Fine. But this is a waste of time.
If you please, Inspector?

Shall I start at the beginning?
Let's start with the facts.

Time of death has been established
as 11.35pm. Where were you then?

Sleeping in the room next door.

You'd been invited
to spend the night?

No. I wasn't feeling well.

And where was Mr Littlefair
when you last saw him?

He was on the floor in the parlour.

At least, I think so.

It may have been an hallucination.
Hallucination?

Dr Ogden believes I was drugged
at some point.

And who gave this drug to you?

I don't know. They were coming around
with trays of drinks all evening.

The frog footmen, that is.

Frog footmen?

I'll tell you what, Detective... Why
don't you start from the beginning?

Yes.

'I received an invitation
ten days ago. '

Thank you.

"Mr and Mrs Jack and Alexandra Reda request your
presence as the Mad Hatter at a Costume Party

"to be held in honour of the late Lewis Carroll. " How wonderful
- you get to be the Mad Hatter.

Darcy was supposed to be the Hatter but
he'll be in Buffalo visiting his family.

Oh, you'll be attending as well?

I'm to be Alice.
I'm going as the White Rabbit.

How did they get my name?
That was my doing.

I said you were the most interesting conversationalist.
That's very flattering, but... You have to go.

They'll have no Mad Hatter
if you don't.

I'm not much for wearing costumes.
I... What costume?

It's a top hat and a bow tie.
Polka-dot bow tie.

Yes... Do come, William.

It'll be fun.

'Did you know anyone at the party?

'No. I don't travel
in those circles.

'So this was the first time you met
Randolph Littlefair? That's correct. '

I feel ridiculous. Trust me when I tell you,
you'll be the least ridiculous person here.

A frog footman, how perfect!

Julia! Ruby! Oh!

Oh, how good to see you! And you must be Mr
Murdoch. I've heard so much about you. Jack Reda.

Glad you could come. It's a
pleasure. So are we playing croquet?

You can't have a Wonderland party
without croquet! Come.

Oh, lovely!

Julia, Ruby Ogden, this is
our friend, Constance Gardner.

And this is our son, Bradley. This
whole party was Constance's idea.

Such a pleasure. Oh, and this is Mr Murdoch who
so graciously agreed to take Mr Garland's place.

Let me introduce you to our guests of honour. Mr
Randolph Littlefair and his lovely wife, Eleanor.

Pleased to meet you. Say hello to
Tweedledum and Tweedledumber here.

Ha! I believe he's mocking you!
I believe he's mocking YOU!

I am the Mock Turtle. I love it when people
get into character. Off with his head!

Here. Your turn.

Everyone, have fun.
This is delightful.

'So that's how your finger marks
got on to the red mallet? Yes. '

What was your impression
of Mr Littlefair?

I found him overbearing.

You didn't like him? I'm not in the habit of
killing people I don't like, Mr Giles. Fair enough.

What happened next?

'After that, we went inside. '

"Drink me. " How delightful.
Oh! No, thank you.

Come on, Detective, one drink won't kill you.
It's a Wonderland party, after all. All right.

'Was your drink ever
out of your sight?'

I don't remember. So someone could have
slipped the drug in at any time? Possibly.

Do you think you were specifically
chosen to receive the drug?

I can't think of a reason why.
Tell me more about Littlefair.

'Frankly, I wasn't the only person
who found him objectionable. '

You don't belong with these people,
do you? I'm sorry?

I don't belong with them either.

Aren't you the hosts' son?

I'm a communist. I'm intellectually
committed to loathing them all.

Especially Littlefair.

Why him?

Because my father, also a despicable capitalist,
is in debt to him, and he's taken full advantage.

And he's an ignorant bore.
He's never read Lewis Carroll.

The Mock Turtle's supposed to be
doleful, not mocking. The fool.

And what did you make
of Bradley Reda's diatribe?

The disquiet of youth?
The passive, intellectual variety?

I'm told there was some sort of
parlour game. Yes, a word game.

May I have your attention, please?

As we all know, Lewis Carroll enjoyed
inventing his own nonsense words.

You'll be asked to invent a nonsense word of your
own, describing the person standing next to you.

Then we'll put all the words into a hat
and invent a nonsense poem of our own.

How lovely!

Thank you.

'And what was this poem about?'

I'm not sure exactly.

That's when the drug started
to take effect.

Oh! Oh! How wonderful!
Ladies and gentlemen,

may I have your attention?
We have our poem!

I need to use a mirror
because it's written backwards.

"'Twas twilly and the grumbly
snifters burbled in their moonly sned!

"While the brilluitiful Noomava
lay smomfy in her bed. "

Julia? What is it, William?

I'm having the oddest sensation.

Are you tipsy? No.

Everything seems distorted.

"Gone he was and so it was
the Oafenfat came sneeling. "

Splendid! Splendid! It's the maiden who
slays the ogre. Isn't that refreshing?

And to think we made it up
all by ourselves!

'From that point on,
the distortions grew more intense. '

May I offer you another drink?
We have a light one.

'Time no longer made sense. '

Oh!

I have half a mind... William!

You hit him?
I honestly don't know.

But I suspect I did.

And what happened then?

I believe I was helped up to bed.

Ah, look!

A smomfy room just for you.

Right. Very...

Hmm?

What?

Aagh!

Aaaaagh!

Well? The murder weapon has
his finger marks. He has no alibi.

And no motive. He had an altercation
with the victim. Bloody hell!

I'd like to say that I don't believe he killed the
man, but I'm subject to the same prejudice as you.

Normally with evidence like this,
charges are laid.

You lay a charge, the race is on to find evidence
supporting that charge. I don't want that to happen.

We should investigate the
possibility that he's being framed.

Detective Murdoch must be incarcerated
for the remainder of the investigation.

This is just temporary till we solve
this thing. I understand, sir.

"'Twas twilly and the grumbly
snifters burbled in their moonly sned

"while the brilliutiful Noomava... "

George, what does this mean? It doesn't
mean anything, Higgins. It's nonsense!

Oh. And your novel? I've finished
Curse Of The Lost Pharaohs.

It's so good, I'll write another. And there'll be a character based on you
- the village idiot!

Everyone gather round.

Detective Murdoch has been placed in custody and
will remain there until we can prove his innocence.

It's up to us, lads.

We have a time of death - 11.35pm.

I want to know where everyone at that party
was in the minutes before and after that.

I want to know who had a motive. Crabtree, find
out who had a grudge against Littlefair. Sir.

And no-one outside
this station house,

and I mean absolutely no-one, can know that one of
our own is under suspicion of murder. Is that clear?

Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Well, what
are you all standing around for?

Inspector Giles!
Allow me to be of assistance.

Do you mind? No.

You have post-mortem results, Doctor? Yes. Mr
Littlefair was struck twice with the mallet.

His temple area was shattered with
shards of bone entering the brain.

Hmm. That sounds decisively fatal to me.
Yes. My feeling is the clock was just...

For good measure? Quite so, yes.

And have you found evidence of
a drug in Detective Murdoch's blood?

Yes. His glucose levels were depressed,
suggesting the presence of mescaline.

Mescaline? It's derived from the mescal
cactus. It was isolated quite recently.

And does this drug make you violent?

No. Its primary effect is
intense visual hallucinations.

Nevertheless, Detective Murdoch did become violent,
did he not? There was an incident, yes, but...

I apologise. This is the wrong venue
for this conversation.

When you're finished here, I'd like to
interview you properly at the station.

Constable? What?

You're staring.
No, Miss Gardner. I...

Sorry. I was kicked by a horse
in the face as a young girl.

Where were you at 11.35?

We were playing a game in the
parlour. Well, most of us anyway.

And he hit him.

I'd gone to bed by then. I felt I'd fulfilled
my obligations as the son of the hosts.

We were counting on Mr Littlefair
to buy a larger share of my company.

We threw the party in his honour.
It had all been going so well.

My husband could be... overbearing
at times, it's true.

It's no reason to kill a man,
though, is it?

We assumed William had been
the victim of a prank.

I thought it might've been oil of
hashish or something harmless like that.

It was a Wonderland party after all.

Oh, for the love of... I bent
my nib. One moment, Miss Ogden.

I believe the detective keeps some extra nibs
in here. Is that a ring? Give me that back!

It's beautiful. You can't just take
items out of the detective's...

"Julia, as long as you exist
in this world... "

Oh, my, it's a proposal! What? He was
going to propose? I have no idea!

And I insist that you... No, don't put them
in there! Ruby, this is none of our business.

I beg to differ, George.

At first I assumed he'd had a little
too much. William is not used to liquor.

But then over the next hour, he became more disoriented.
And you saw a personality change? Rather, yes.

Are you feeling any better, William?
No. Thank you. No.

Hey! Frog man!

'Mr Littlefair had been drinking heavily
all evening and it was beginning to show. '

One more drop and I'm sleeping in another room.
You snore when you are drunk, Randolph! Fine!

Froggy! I said no more!

Everyone was in shock. And then...

Hey!

I've half a mind to... Yes?
Come now, Mr Turtle.

Let's help you to your bed.
Come on.

What's come over you, William? We need
to get Mr Murdoch upstairs as well.

We can get him home.
No, no, no, I insist!

Believe me, Inspector Giles. William was in no
condition to leave his room, let alone kill someone.

Well, thank you, Dr Ogden.

I believe that's all for now.

Would it be possible to see him?

Doctor, do you have a romantic
interest in the detective?

I notice that you sometimes refer
to him by his Christian name.

We did have a relationship, yes, but that is...
Well, I wish you'd been forthright with me about this.

You must see how that past relationship casts
every statement you've made in a different light.

And no. No, you can't see him.

What have you learned, Inspector?
Well, between 11.30 and 11.45,

most guests were gathered in the parlour to
play games. And who was not in the parlour?

There were two servants in the kitchen and
one was loading supplies on to a carriage.

Jack Reda was in his study and
Bradley was in his bed. Interesting.

If Detective Murdoch's recollections are truthful,
the Reda family has good reason to dislike Littlefair.

Littlefair had queered a business deal on Jack
Reda and Sonny Boy was letting the whole world know.

Yes, this is promising.
Let's bring them in.

Am I seriously under suspicion? You expressed
contempt for Mr Littlefair. He was contemptible.

And your communist philosophy advocates the violent
overthrow of capitalist society, does it not?

Through spontaneous revolution, not
one capitalist at a time. Bradley!

You claim to loathe your capitalist
parents, but their financial future and yours

had been put at risk by Littlefair.
I call that motive.

Call it what you will.

My son feels that any commercial
venture is, by definition, exploitive.

The fact is, we needed
Mr Littlefair's money.

He may have pressed his advantage, but I stood to lose
more by his death than I could gain. But not much more.

Several speculative land deals
of yours had just fallen through.

Your construction business is
bleeding badly. Oh, yes, I checked.

You were using Littlefair's money
like a bank.

But he held all your IOUs. In a
short time you would've gone under.

Littlefair would've owned every last thing
that you owned for pennies on the dollar.

He was a damn bastard, is what
he was. That's why you killed him.

No. Killing him
is what I wish I'd done.

"Julia, as long as you exist in this
world, there will be no-one for me but you.

"We can adopt. Julia Ogden,
please say you'll marry me. "

No. It can't be.

He had every opportunity to say these
things to me before I left for Buffalo.

I don't understand!

Jules... I love Darcy.

I'm happy. I've made my choice.

Doesn't the fact that you're so upset about
this tell you that your heart feels differently?

Don't you see it's too late? I can't walk
out on Darcy now. It would break his heart.

Heartbreak is temporary.
Marriage is for life.

For the rest of your life.

This receipt is dated a year ago. He
may not even feel that way any more.

Then why keep the engagement ring
and his thoughts on the proposal?

He would've said something.

Would he have? The problem is
that he's a fine man who loves you.

But he sees how you've prepared your
future. He's going to remain silent,

no matter how much it hurts him, and
honour your choice, unless you talk to him.

Jules, you have to say something.
You have to go to him.

I can't.

Inspector Giles has forbidden it.

Well, as I see it,
you'll have to do something.

My money's on the communist son.
I don't think so.

He may well have expressed a dislike for the man,
but so did Murdoch. Have a seat, Giles. Ah, thank you.

And who attacked Littlefair minutes before he was
killed? Whose bed was the murder weapon found under?

What about the boy's father? Well, I would
agree, except that by killing Littlefair,

Jack Reda would only have hastened his own
financial collapse. So you're back on Murdoch?

You've had that in your head from
the start, like a dog with a bone.

Look, I appreciate your loyalty
to Murdoch, Inspector. I truly do.

But don't ever question my
objectivity as an officer of the law.

He's one of us, Giles.

And that makes it all the more difficult.
But it doesn't mean that he's innocent.

It's not looking good.
I need you to think.

Someone must've come into your room
to plant the evidence against you.

Do you remember anything? Nothing
clearly, sir. Well, that's not good enough.

Someone may have come into my room,
but I can't be certain.

Bloody hell, Murdoch,
you have to remember. Who was it?

Your neck is on the line.

Do you remember me, William?

Was it a dream you had or a memory?

Perhaps a dream of a memory.

Who was it?

The Cheshire Cat.

Mrs Littlefair, did you enter Detective
Murdoch's room on the night of the party?

No, why would I? You were dressed
as the Cheshire Cat, correct? Yes.

And were you in costume the whole evening?
Hmm... No, I had my mask off for most of the time.

And where did you leave the mask?

On the table downstairs.

Very well.
Thank you, Mrs Littlefair.

You and your husband weren't exactly
living in marital bliss, were you?

And now here you are, newly single, and
ready to inherit quite a few bob! Inspector!

You think I killed my husband?
Murdoch saw you come into his room.

That's when you planted the evidence under his bed.
How dare you! I've just lost my husband. I'm grieving!

Grieving? Grieving all the way to
the bank! Inspector, that's enough!

A word.

I made it perfectly clear, I conduct
my interviews without interference!

You barely asked her the time of day! She was
downstairs in the parlour with witnesses at 11.35.

Someone came into Murdoch's room
with that mask on. So says Murdoch.

And he's got every reason to lie if he's the
killer. This is Murdoch we're talking about.

Policeman don't commit murder? Wasn't
it Murdoch who disproved that theory?

I can't handle the evidence, sir.

Then just look, all right? I don't need
to remind you that Giles is closing in.

Right then, George,
fit the pieces together.

Now, rotate it.

It's broken to the side, sir. If the mallet had
broken from the force of striking the victim,

the handle would have broken
back to front.

The mallet was broken deliberately?
Part of you being framed.

That would be my assumption.

Now then, what other evidence
might have been tampered with?

This is a striking clock.
Regardless of what the hands say,

the striking mechanism must be set
to chime on the hour.

Now we can check the status of the mechanism
to see if it matches the displayed time.

You see here?

The position of the rack
and snail cam. Rack and snail?

It's what determines
the number of chimes.

This clock had already struck midnight by the time
it was stopped. Can we tell what time it stopped?

Yes, by counting the number
of notches on the gear train.

One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight...

This clock was stopped
at ten after midnight.

12.10? That was the time
of the murder. Not 11.35pm.

That puts Eleanor Littlefair back on the suspect list.
Bloody hell, that puts everybody back on the list!

We'll have to re-interview them all. So tell me,
Inspector, how did you figure out this clock business?

It was Murdoch, wasn't it?

At no point did Detective Murdoch come into contact
with the evidence. No, he just told you where to look.

And that didn't strike you
as suspicious? How?

Are you suggesting Murdoch framed himself? He
plants evidence pointing to himself as the killer,

knowing when it's shown to be false, it will exonerate him
- brilliant! It's idiotic!

It's brilliant. And Murdoch
is nothing if not that.

Sir, we have a problem. Now what? I've checked
police records going back more than a decade.

It seems Randolph Littlefair changed
his name some years back.

He used to be Michael Cudmore and he had a few run-ins
with the law, including murder. Who did he kill?

An innkeeper was found stabbed to death.
Cudmore was charged but later acquitted.

So what's the problem? The arresting
officer was William H Murdoch.

Michael Cudmore?
Do you recall the name?

I am the Mock Turtle!
Do you remember me, William?

Murdoch! Cudmore? Does the name
Michael Cudmore ring any bells?

Michael Cudmore, yes.

I arrested him shortly after
I started with the Constabulary.

So you're saying it's coincidence
that 12 years later

you just happen to be at a party with
Cudmore and someone frames you for his murder?

It's the only explanation I have.

What do we tell Giles? Nothing.
We don't say a bloody thing.

Sir, I've spoken with Bradley Reda's
laboratory partner.

He's a chemistry major.
They've been isolating mescaline.

It was meant to be a prank. So by chance the man you
slipped this drug to ended up being framed for murder?

I planned to spike the whole punchbowl,
but we couldn't produce enough in time,

so I slipped the mescaline
into Randolph Littlefair's drink.

And how did it end up in Murdoch's glass?
He must've picked up the wrong glass.

I wouldn't have done this to your detective.
He was the one person at the party I liked.

Bollocks.

You interviewed Bradley Reda
without my permission, Inspector.

If I hadn't, we wouldn't know where the mescaline came
from. I thought that might be important, Inspector.

It is, marginally.
But I've been doing my own digging.

I learned that your men had discovered these
arrest reports concerning Murdoch and Cudmore.

Were you planning on telling me
about these? Of course, sir.

But we're still following
that line of enquiry. Save it!

You've interfered with my investigation,
so I will remove Murdoch from your custody

and conduct this investigation from
Station House number three. But you can't!

It's not a negotiation!

Detective Murdoch?

Have you any idea how THAT happened?
Bloody hell, if I know.

Sir, he must've picked the lock.

Why would he do it, Crabtree?
Why would he run?

Maybe he lost his faith in us, sir. Maybe he thought
the evidence against him was so strong that...

Well, anything on the murder
of that innkeeper?

Sir, I've gone over all the files
for Cudmore's murder charge.

No-one at the Wonderland party connects to
the trial. I might have something here, sir.

A witness later claimed that Cudmore assaulted
her in the days following. What was the name?

Miss Ava Moon, an actress. Cudmore
was arrested, but never charged.

Ava Moon?
Yes.

What? Have you heard that name
before? Not heard it. Seen it.

The poem. Sir, this is the nonsense
poem from the Wonderland party.

It tells the story of a maiden,
Noomava. She's attacked by an ogre,

but she fends him off and slays him. What
are you showing me this for? Look here.

"Noomava" is Ava Moon backwards.

Who wrote this?

But we all wrote this.
We made up nonsense words.

What about this Noomava mentioned
in the poem? Ava Moon?

That wouldn't be you, Mrs Reda?
Inspector, there's no such person.

So these nonsense words magically became a story
about a maiden who killed a beast that attacked her?

It wasn't magic. We had to work
at it a bit. "We"? Constance and I.

Well, it was all her idea. It was quite ingenious
the way she pieced the story together out of it all.

Constance? The woman who helped you
with the party?

Yes. You wouldn't happen to have
her address, would you?

I didn't expect to see you in person.

I assumed you'd be in jail.

But I knew you would figure it out.

I was hoping to have been gone
by then.

Of course, I was never very lucky,
was I?

Ava, I needed to see you

to tell you that I understand
why you framed me.

And how truly sorry I am
for what's happened to you.

Well, it's a bit late for that,
isn't it?

I suppose so. Now I'm afraid you'll have
to come with me to face the murder charge.

You would do that to me?
I'll argue for leniency.

I'll tell the judge that Littlefair
hurt you deeply, savagely.

Perhaps you didn't realise,
Detective,

I wasn't his last victim.

Brigitte Marlowe from Montreal. He held his knife
against her cheek while he raped her. She lived.

Mavis Hedge from Belleville wasn't
so lucky. He was there. I checked.

It was Cudmore or Littlefair,
whatever you want to call him.

And this was just a month ago. How
many others that we don't know about?

Why didn't you bring this to the police?
I tried that once before, didn't I?

Didn't work out so well for me. Taking the
law into your own hands has repercussions, Ava.

So does raping and killing women!

Or butchering them so badly,
they cannot have children.

But the law doesn't always work
the way it should.

Haven't you seen that in the 12 years
since this happened to me?

Have you not changed in that time?

Is the letter of the law
still all you care about

even when it's wrong?

Michael Cudmore
would have kept on killing.

He deserved his fate and worse.

You know what I did was just.

What choice do I have?

Then will you watch my hanging?

If that's the verdict, yes.
It's my duty.

Then I will see you on that day.

Murdoch.

She was an actress.

She rented a room at an inn
along my beat.

One night she heard cries coming
from the innkeeper's room

and then saw a man leaving.

She didn't see his face, but she
recognised his coat, his walk.

I arrested Cudmore. And my inspector at Station
House number one beat a confession out of him.

Ava was terrified of Cudmore
and refused to testify against him.

But I convinced her that it was her
duty, that she should trust in the law.

But he wasn't convicted?

No.

That wasn't your fault.

Actually, it was.

My inspector testified
that the confession was voluntary.

But I, zealously, told the truth.

The confession was thrown out.
And the case collapsed.

And then Michael Cudmore
took revenge on Ava Moon.

Why wasn't he arrested for that?

Insufficient evidence.

It was dark, the middle
of the night, etcetera.

The prosecution didn't believe that Ava's
identification of Cudmore would stand up at trial.

So you can see why
she doesn't trust in the law.

Murdoch!

What the devil's going on here?

Cudmore took his knife to me.

Not just my face.

He did things...

I couldn't begin to describe to you.

Everything I ever wanted in life,

marriage, children...

.. ended the night he came
into my room.

He moved out of Ontario after that.

Then a few months ago, I saw
his picture in the newspaper.

Oh, he'd changed his name to Randolph
Littlefair, but I knew it was him.

So you plotted to kill him?

I have friends in common
with Alexandra Reda

and when I learned the Redas were
going into partnership with Cudmore,

a plan materialised.

I suggested the party for that reason. How did you
know Detective Murdoch would be there? I didn't.

It was just...

one of those strange things
in life.

I realised if I pointed the suspicion on him,
it would give me time to make a clean break.

But I wouldn't have let him hang. I was
going to leave a confession in my room.

But he arrived
before I could make my escape.

And now it's me who's going to hang.

It seems the law's finally
done with me.

SIGHS

Escaping from police custody
is a serious offence.

I had to inform Chief Constable Stockton. And as
you're no doubt aware, there may be consequences.

I had to see Ava again.

To make amends somehow.

Bring her in with dignity
to get at the truth.

The truth at all costs.

She'll likely hang.

Her sad story may sway the judge.

But it was premeditated murder,
there's no getting around that.

A lesser policeman than yourself might
have been inclined to look the other way.

But you and I are not arbiters
of justice.

We are merely servants
of the law.

It is no simple task
to remain incorruptible,

especially in defiance
of one's own conscience.

Cold comfort, eh, Inspector?

Sir, good to see
you're a free man again.

Thank you, George. This was left at my desk.
I'm quite sure that's Dr Ogden's handwriting.

I didn't really have an opportunity
to get it to you until now. Thank you.

Well, we're off to the wedding.
Will you be attending?

There's something I need to take
care of, but if there's time, yes.

Well, sir, I...

should get going, I suppose.

I do hope to see you there, sir.

"Dearest William, I am writing this during
what should be the happiest time of my life.

"And yet my heart has never been
more troubled. "

"I have learned of the marriage
proposal you intended to make to me.

"If your feelings are the same, you
must let me know before I make my vows.

"If they are not, then I will marry
Darcy and we will never speak of this.

"Either way, I will know your true
feelings and my heart will be in peace.

"Love, Julia. "

Take the CP Rail to Hamilton
immediately.

Don't stay on the train any longer
or they will catch you.

Here. Take a carriage from Hamilton. Find a boarding
house. Try not to draw any attention to yourself.

Wait a month and cross the border
at Windsor on an overnight train.

Detective, I... The station watch is at a
wedding ceremony. They'll be back shortly.

Why are you doing this?

If I had acted the way I should have back
then, perhaps none of this would have happened.

It's one mistake I can set right.

But this could cost you your career.

You'll never know what it's cost me.

And forsaking all others,

be faithful to him
as long as you both shall live?

I do.

You were missed at the wedding.

Sir? I don't blame you, Murdoch.

It's no secret how you feel about
Dr Ogden. I am sorry, me old mucker.

I received this a few hours ago.

Thought I'd hold off until after the wedding
celebrations. There's no two ways to say this, Murdoch.

The Chief Constable has determined the
price you'll pay for breaking out of jail.

You are suspended three weeks with a reprimand
on record. Well, that's not so bad, right?

A slap on the wrist
and you'll be right back at it.

Actually, sir, it's going to be
much worse than that for me.

There's something I need
to tell you.

Best pour us both a drink.