All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S10E07.HDTV.x264-FLEET

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
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Hello?

Hello? Sir?

Help!

It's not clear what killed him,

but he died five to ten hours ago.

The canoeist found him
floating in the lake.

Oh, and William, look at this.

- "Let's get acquainted for fun and results."
- It's a flirtation card,

to be slipped discreetly
to someone you wish to meet.

So a woman gave him
this flirtation card,

arranging a meeting. He then

brought her here to this lovely spot.

Romance ensued, judging by
the lip rouge on his face.

Love was in the air.

More than that.

I believe I'm detecting
the smell of bitter almonds.

It could be cyanide.

Likely not the fun and
results he was expecting.

How did you sleep?

We might have been more
comfortable at my rooms.

You always say that,

but we never seem to make
it out of here before we...

Well, then I must teach you
patience, George Crabtree.

Let the lesson begin, Miss Bloom.

Oh...

Oh, uh... Good morning, ladies.

What are you girls doing here so early?

It's not early.

I was just gonna help Josie
with her new routine, but, um...

- we can just come back.
- Oh no, no! I'm gonna be late. Um...

Where are my...

Oh.

It was a busy night.

Young couples like the
privacy of the boats.

This one came just after I was
shutting down for the night.

- What time was that?
- Sometime after 10 o'clock.

I told them it was too late, but

the young man offered me an extra dollar

to keep the boat out after hours and...

he promised he was gonna tie it up.

- Did you get his name?
- Uh,

he signed the boat out
under Cameron Fellowes.

His companion...

can you describe her?

Didn't much get a good look at her face.

Blonde woman,

wandered off to tease the ducks

while the young man paid me.

She cut a fine figure, though,
I can tell you that much.

Wager the young man thought so too.

- All right. Thank you.
- Hey.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for my husband.

He never returned home last night.

- Uh, what's your husband's name?
- Mr. Cameron Fellowes.

Fellowes? Fellowes?

I'm afraid there's no report
on anybody by that name.

Oh, well, I brought his picture.

Hello, Mrs. Fellowes?

I'm Detective William Murdoch.

May I have a moment of your time?

What is it?

My office is right this way.

But I don't

understand how he could die in a boat.

At the moment, I'm treating
his death as suspicious.

Was it the heart disease?

The...

No. No, I don't believe so.

Perhaps it was one of those aneurysms.

My sister told me they
can strike at any age.

She's married to a doctor.

Our coroner will determine

the precise cause of
death, Mrs. Fellowes.

What did your husband say he
was going to be doing last night?

He said he would be home late.

He was at a work function.

What kind of work function?

I don't know, but he was with Robert.

Robert Roth.

They work together, of course.

In advertising sales.

Witnesses suggest that...

Mr. Fellowes was in the
company of a young lady

prior to his death.

Well, I'm sure his office can give you

the names of the clients he met.

It's been suggested that
this was not a work meeting,

but a social one.

This card was found

in your husband's pocket.

It's from a lady inviting him to meet...

romantically.

Of course!

This must be one of Robert's gags.

They're always playing
jokes on each other.

As I mentioned, Mr. Fellowes was in fact

in the company of a woman last night.

My Cameron doesn't
meet with other women.

Ask Robert what this is all about.

He'll explain it to you so you can...

understand.

Mucking out the stables
would go a lot faster

with three hands on deck, Henry.

Well, then three of us would
smell like manure all day.

Oh, don't worry, I'm
sure you could cover it up

with some of that fancy eau
de cologne you like so much.

You get started. I'll be out to
supervise you in a little while.

Right.

You look like a lady
who could use some help.

George?

Could you please ask a
Mr. Robert Roth to come in?

You may find him at the
Crump Advertising Agency.

- Sir.
- Oh, and George,

might I suggest you stop by

the Eaton's department
store on your way home?

- Eaton's?
- Yes.

You'll find they boast the best
that modern technology has to offer

in their selection of alarm clocks.

Yes, of course, sir.

There was no dinner with clients.

I didn't see Cameron last night.

But if his wife had enquired,

I would say he was with me.

We're attempting to find the last person

seen with Mr. Fellowes
prior to his death.

Do you know anything
about this flirtation card?

Yes. Cam showed me that.

Progress for you right there.

A woman slipped that
to Cameron in a pub.

Lucky devil.

Made it easy for him.

Bless her.

I hope more girls
will take up the habit.

He said she was a beauty.

She may have killed him.

Well, that's...

some way to go.

The medical college is keeping
Miss James from you again today?

Yes, and it's rather lonely without her.

But I have been able to
confirm that Mr. Fellowes

did indeed die from cyanide.

- As you initially suspected.
- Yes,

but he doesn't appear
to have ingested it

and I found no other indication
of how it was administered.

No needle marks?

Except for a small cut on his lip,

Mr. Fellowes is entirely unblemished.

What does this lip rouge tell us
about the woman that he was with?

It is a bold shade.

Fashion is rather more subtle.

A prostitute, perhaps?

You'd be surprised how many
women now wear cosmetics.

Do you have a little time?

Where are we going exactly?

Some shops in the city
don't wish to be found.

Seems like a poor business scheme.

Many customers enjoy the exclusivity.

Now, William, I must confess

that I sometimes like to use
a little lip rouge myself.

Powder on occasion, things like that.

- I'm sure you've never noticed.
- No.

It's just for fun, really.

The best products now are made in Paris

and can be ordered specially, but...

if I happen to run out,

there's this gentleman.

Detective Murdoch!

It's a delight to meet you.

Julia has described you so beautifully,

I had a complete picture in my mind.

And now you're here. In the flesh.

Oscar Ducharme.

Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ducharme.

Are you here to see the new items?

Actually, Oscar, we're
investigating a murder.

And it led you to me.

Yes, in fact, we're
trying to locate a woman

who left behind traces of
lip rouge on our victim.

- I wasn't familiar with the shade.
- Oh yes.

It has too much orange
to suit you, Julia.

But I told the Detective
you might recognize it.

It looks like the coral pomade.

In fact, I believe I have it in stock.

Yes, it matches perfectly.

May I have a list of your clientele
who have purchased this colour?

No.

It pains me to
disappoint you, Detective,

but my customers require discretion.

My job is only to

improve on the charms of nature.

Despite their beautifully
transformative potential,

cosmetics are still perceived as wicked.

Of course,

that can be part of their appeal.

I see. You don't keep
details on your clientele?

Well, I do keep track of which
ladies prefer which shades.

That would be most helpful.

Do you like it?

It's beautiful.

That sounds like a hint, Detective.

A woman like your wife
deserves the finer things.

All right, I'll buy it.

Now the list, please.

Just this once.

Ah!

Mrs. Fellowes doesn't
appear to be a client.

But Miss Nina Bloom is.

George's sweetheart?

Nevertheless, sir,

many young women wear lip rouge.

At this point we're simply
following the evidence, George.

I just don't think it's
possible that Miss Bloom

would be involved in
something as... dastardly.

If you are uncomfortable,

you may excuse yourself from this case.

I think I'll stay, sir.

It's quite rare to
see you make a mistake.

Of course I buy rouge sticks.

- We all do, don't we, girls?
- I love the stuff.

Do you recognize this shade, Miss Bloom?

Um... Yes.

It looks like one I have.

Is this a match, Detective?

Why, yes, it is.

Thank you.

Ladies,

do any of you recognize this chap?

- No.
- Uh-uh.

Right, then, uh... I
must ask, Miss Bloom:

have you ever given a
man a flirtation card?

George can tell you I'm
not that coy, Detective.

Besides,

when would I need to?

Men give them to me.

- But you don't return them?
- Heavens no! We don't return them.

We collect them. We girls
keep a tally amongst us.

Nina is well in the lead.

Right. Um...

Where were you last evening?

I was on stage until after nine,

and then later George came by.

That's correct, sir,

when I was finished with
Mr. Bloom at the auto garage.

That would've been about two o'clock.

And in the intervening hours?

I was here, tidying up
after the girls and...

waiting for George.

- Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Bloom.
- My pleasure.

Sir, perhaps the lads
and I should round up

the rest of the lip rouge
customers on our list.

Yes, thank you, George. We'll
interview them in the morning.

I washed up

Yeah, for hours last night

and I still have the barn smell on me.

Uh... Mrs. Conway.

Hello, ladies.

Doing some work today, are you, Henry?

Always working, Jackson. Always working.

You two did a barely
passable job on the stables.

But I'll let it slide this time,

seeing as how the Inspector's not here.

I'd like to take him down a peg.

Perhaps it's time we purchase

one of those flirtation cards, McNabb.

- Sir.
- Is that all of them?

That's all that were on the list, sir.

Did any of them provide
any new information?

None of them admit to
knowing Mr. Fellowes,

and most of them offer an alibi.

- Sir. You're needed.
- Thank you.

- With me, George.
- Sir.

He checked in last evening, sir,
in the company of a blonde lady.

He was only discovered this afternoon

when the maid let herself in to clean.

George, I know this man.

This is Robert Roth,

Mr. Fellowes' friend and colleague.

Marked with the same lip rouge.

Mr. Fellowes and his
best friend are now dead.

Mr. Roth died in the
early hours of the morning,

close to two AM, I'd hazard,

- and cyanide is again indicated.
- Sir, Doctor,

I spoke to the Fellowes' housemaid.

Mr. Fellowes retired last
night at nine o'clock.

Mr. Roth and his companion
checked into the hotel

- sometime after ten.
- And the housemaid

couldn't be sure that Mr.
Fellowes didn't leave again later,

as she herself went to
bed shortly after nine.

You think the first victim's
wife killed Mr. Roth as well?

Well, she is blonde
and has a fine figure.

Matching the general description

of the woman who accompanied
Mr. Roth last night

and the one that was seen with

Mr. Fellowes down by the pond.

And what motive would
she have to kill both men?

Well, there is this.

I convinced the housemaid to let me
have a look around the Fellowes' home.

It's a pharmacist's preparation,

topical, but poisonous if ingested.

It contains cyanide.

Well, then...

bring in the grieving widow, George.

Sir.

Both of the victims
were well known to you.

Yes, but they must know
other people as well.

We found this in your home.

It contains the same
poison that killed both

your husband and Mr. Roth.

You're wrong there,
Detective. That's never poison.

It's a treatment for my varicose veins.

I don't understand any of this.

Mrs. Fellowes' medicine

was a standard preparation
for varicose veins.

It only had a small
amount of cyanide in it.

How much would be required
to kill a man Mr. Roth's size?

Half the bottle. But if
he'd ingested that much,

I would've found it in
his stomach contents.

- So this was not the murder weapon.
- I'm afraid not.

But there is something interesting
about Mr. Roth, William.

He has a small cut on his lip.

- Just like Mr. Fellowes?
- Seems to be part of the killer's pattern.

Could that be how the
poison was administered?

Cyanide would take
effect much more quickly

if it entered through a cut.

What if, while kissing them,
she bit their lips deliberately?

- And then applied the poison to the cut?
- Yes.

Or the poison is in the lip rouge.

These men would've effectively
been killed with a kiss.

- Is that possible?
- I don't know, but

I'm going to start by
analysing this rouge.

If there's cyanide in it,
we'll have our murder weapon.

Detective?

I've just come from Mr. Roth's home.

- Anything of interest?
- Well, there's this.

- Is this... ?
- Miss Bloom, yes, sir.

They sell these at the Star Room.
Mr. Roth may well have been there.

George, were you with her last evening

when Mr. Roth and his companion
were checked into the hotel?

Sir...

- George?
- I was not with her, sir, but

it is impossible that
she's involved in this.

I understand, but I'll need
to speak with her nevertheless.

Well, let me come with you.

I believe I'll conduct
this interview alone.

Sir...

Who left this?

What is it?

- It's an invitation.
- Come here.

"Seeking a qualified agent
to inspect my new sofa.

It is lonely with one
but guaranteed for two."

Guaranteed for two.

Well, that leaves little
to the imagination.

You sure you don't know who left it?

Well, that woman you were
making eyes at earlier.

She's way out of Henry's league.

No, no, but I did see her near his desk.

- The lip rouge girl?
- Sadie Talbot.

You know, I believe she works at
McGillion's Ice Cream Parlour on Shuter.

Well! Now you're making
yourself useful, Jackson!

At your service.

I give out a lot of cards,

but yes, I recognize him.

He came in a few times.

He's been murdered, Miss Bloom,

evidently by the same person

who murdered another
man the night before.

Well, I would say that between that

and my taste in rouge sticks,

I must look like a good suspect.

I'll be needing to take
your lip rouges for testing.

All of them?

Yes.

Can anyone account for your
whereabouts last evening?

All the men who saw me on stage.

And after the show,

once you left the club?

I just went home to bed.

Did anyone... see you there?

Believe it or not, I
slept alone, Detective.

Right, then.

Thank you, Miss Bloom.

George?

Sir,

I've been thinking about it.

I really can't imagine why Nina
would be mixed up in all of this.

Well, if she isn't, she
has nothing to worry about.

I'm quite sure, sir, that
she is incapable of murder!

I have no doubt you
believe that, George,

but we must follow the
evidence. She remains a suspect.

- Then let me talk to her. She won't lie to me.
- No, George.

- Sir...
- I said no.

I'm afraid I must insist
you stay away from this case.

You understand.

Sir.

There's a significant amount
of cyanide in the lip rouge.

Oh, that is bold!

How did the killer ensure that
she herself didn't get poisoned?

Perhaps she applies a
barrier to protect her lips.

Wax would do the trick, but
it's certainly dangerous.

Cyanide is fast and deadly.

She must be very determined.

And very foolish.

Julia, could you test these as well?

They're Miss Bloom's.

I'll do it tonight.

You don't think she has
something to do with this.

I hope not, for George's sake.

I love you, Nina!

She's so comfortable out there.

She's a real talent.

- I've always admired her stage presence.
- Mm-hmm.

Yes, her stage presence is lovely.

I hope to one day dance as well as Nina.

You, Josie?

You're a fine dancer.

Very... charming.

- Your turn, Josie.
- Yes.

Here to keep an eye on your
prime suspect, Constable?

Well, it might help if
you told the Detective

where you were when
the murders occurred.

I already told him I was alone.

I suppose he just didn't believe me.

Do you believe me?

Yes, of course.

The murders, Nina...

they have me thinking about
these flirtation cards.

Who in their right mind

would proposition a complete stranger,

let alone agree to go and meet somebody

that you don't know?

It's a recipe for
misadventure, if you ask me.

You're forgetting the
potential for delight.

- Catching the eye of a stranger...
- It's not safe!

- You should take those cards...
- George!

You should take those cards

and throw them in the garbage
to avoid the temptation.

- Avoid the temptation?!
- Yes, get rid of them.

- Don't you trust me, George?
- Nina, I'm telling you...

I'm asking you...

to throw them away.

Well, I won't.

Now, if you'll just wait a
moment, you can escort me home.

Well, I won't.

Not tonight.

Then I'm happy I kept those cards.

Cut on his lip as well.

This method of murder is proving
to be surprisingly effective.

"Eager purveyor of kisses
and hugs for gentlemen

seeks the pleasure of your
company. Satisfaction assured."

Addressed specifically to a Mr. Nielsen.

Evidently he took the bait.

This card has a printer's mark, sir.

Sales in flirtation cards
have been very brisk.

I don't keep track of every man

who comes in and picks
a card off the rack.

Have a closer look.

These were ordered by a woman.

Surely there can't
be very many women who

- buy such cards.
- No, you're right, of course.

Yes, these are custom
made for a special order.

Here.

A Miss Smith.

Can you tell us what she looked like?

I don't know. The transaction
was completed entirely by mail.

Here is the address.

Post office box.

Sir, it looks like she
ordered ten cards in total.

Leaving her with seven.

Witnesses describe our Miss
Smith at the post office

as being a blonde,

well dressed, but none
of them saw her face.

She wore a hat with a bit of
veil when she opened the box.

She was careful and precise.

These lip rouges are the same.

Likely the same poison as well.

The question is,

what does this latest victim have
in common with the previous two?

I'll search for a link, sir, but

Mr. Nielsen is older
than the previous victims,

he lives in a different part of town,

he worked in trade, not
advertising... I found

this receipt in his pocket.
Apparently he had dinner

at the Heron and Swan.

- Julia.
- William.

I have completed the test you requested.

Ah...

George, why don't you go
down to the Heron and Swan

and see if Mr. Roth ever visited there?

Try the hotel first.

Perhaps he discarded one of
these receipts there as well.

Yes, of course.

Did you find any poison
in Miss Bloom's lip rouge?

- There were traces of cyanide.
- Is that so?

But it's not uncommon for
cosmetics to be contaminated,

and no single stick
contained enough to be lethal.

All right.

Thank you, Julia.

If only we had a camera

to capture the moment she slaps him.

If she takes him down a peg,

that'll be good enough for me.

She looks really busy.
I'm gonna come back later.

Surely a few kids after ice
cream won't keep you from romance.

No, we really should
get back to work, boys.

Henry, have you lost your nerve?

Me? Never!

Okay, well, go on then.

Show her some of that
Henry Higgins charm

we hear so much about.

You can't fail.

Well...

I always do fail.

The truth of it is...

Wait...

How long have you been Mr.
Nielsen's secretary, Miss Petrie?

Two years in November, I believe.

Do the names Cameron Fellowes

- or Robert Roth sound familiar to you?
- No.

Did Mr. Nielsen have
occasion to do business

with the Crump advertising agency?

No, we've been with Andrew
Signage and Advertising for years.

You must have been upset to learn
the news of Mr. Nielsen's passing.

Inasmuch as it relates to
my job at the company, yes.

I would like to stay on here.

But you weren't upset personally.

Not considerably, no.

To be truthful, Mr.
Nielsen was unpleasant.

In what way?

He was the sort of man who was
entertained by insulting people.

But he paid well and I could handle him,

at least better than
poor Doris Strachan.

- Who is Doris Strachan?
- The girl I replaced.

The woman I'm looking for

has been described as
blonde and attractive.

Does that sound like Doris Strachan?

No, they tell me she
was not much to look at.

I understand Mr. Nielsen
made merciless comments,

causing her to cry daily, poor thing.

I'd have told her he
wasn't worth the tears.

Sir,

I found this at the hotel.

It's a swan.

That's not unusual, George.

Lizzie is in the habit of doing the same

with our linens at the hotel.

Unnecessary labour, if you ask me.

And then

there's the receipt

for dinner for two at the Heron and Swan

the night Mr. Nielsen was killed.

That's a popular restaurant.

And, sir, you told me that Mr. Fellowes

was found in one of those paddle boats

shaped like a swan!

George,

I understand your
feelings for Miss Bloom,

but I really don't think you need to

- manufacture theories in order...
- Sir, I'm trying to...

I'm merely trying to point
out, with all due respect,

you might be thinking
about this the wrong way.

Detective Murdoch.

Morris Snider is his name, sir.

He's a teacher here at the school.

Flirtation card, rouge, cut on his lip.

So, the headmistress says she saw
him in his classroom this morning.

He was in top spirits.

She's killed in broad
daylight this time, George.

This is the fourth victim in three days.

Children discovered the body.

I can't imagine that's very
good for their development.

Right. Right. Constable,

cover him up, please.

You said he was a teacher here, George?

Yes, sir, for the past thirty years.

Competent, well-liked.

He was due to retire
at the end of the term.

Let's find his address.

Sir, I was going through
Mr. Snider's effects...

I found this photograph
of him with his students.

Is that Mr. Roth as a boy?

- And Mr. Fellowes, maybe?
- That's right.

- And does that look like...
- It is.

- Mrs. Fellowes.
- Sir,

draw your attention to the banner
they're standing underneath.

Swans.

Swans.

There's dear Cameron.

He was the most handsome
boy in the class.

You, your husband and Mr. Roth
all attended the same school.

Of course we did.

And Mr. Snider was a teacher there,

and the three of them are all now dead.

Oh, look! There's Beatrice.

All that curly hair.

Did there happen to be a Mr.
Nielsen in your circle of friends?

I don't remember him.

Goodness, I'd forgotten about this girl.

See right there? Look at her...

so unfortunate.

What was her name?

She had a crush on my
Cameron, but no hope.

She moved on to Robert,
with even less success.

Right. Well, thank you.

What was her name?

Boys were so cruel to her. Donkey face?

Donkey Doris, that was it!

- Doris Strachan?
- Yes!

Donkey Doris Strachan!
Did you know her too?

Miss Strachan knew all of the victims.

Two were classmates,
one was her teacher,

and Mr. Nielsen was her employer.

And all were cruel to her.

- Sir!
- George?

After resigning Mr. Nielsen's
employ two years ago,

Doris Strachan moved to New York City

and never came back. The police there

believe she committed suicide,

but there was no body ever found.

The problem is she doesn't match
any of the witnesses' description.

If she is alive,

perhaps she's working
with an accomplice. Or...

she's a swan.

A swan?

George has a theory.

There have been swans
at every crime scene.

- Oh.
- Which puts me in mind of the old

fairy story about the ugly duckling.

You know, all the
other animals teased and

ridiculed this strange-looking creature,

until all she wanted to do was
wander off into the weeds and die,

but one day...

Go on.

I'm sorry, sir, you don't
usually let me get this far.

One day, the ugly duckling
transformed into a beautiful swan.

Now, maybe Doris Strachan herself

has transformed from an ugly duckling

into a swan.

And her motive is to get
revenge on her tormentors.

It does fit with the
nature of the killings.

All of the children in
this photograph appear

to be fourteen or fifteen years old.

Now, the witnesses
describe the killer as

a beautiful young woman.

Doris Strachan is...

not beautiful, and I very much doubt

nature could've been that kind to her.

Perhaps nature had
nothing to do with it.

Now, for Doris Strachan

to have killed these men,

she would've had to have
looked significantly different.

What do you think, Mr. Ducharme?

Could this woman

be made beautiful?

It is a challenge I would
dearly love to undertake.

Where would you begin?

Tapeworms.

Tapeworms?

The most reliable way to lose weight.

I recommend them to all my
ladies who need a little aid.

Oh, Oscar, you must
stop! It's not healthy!

But so effective!

She could lose
twenty-five to fifty pounds

without even trying.

Oh, imagine the effect it would
have on her cheekbones, Julia.

Yes, look at that
eyebrow arch. Beautiful.

Now, perhaps her eyes might appear

more striking.

I could do a slightly fuller lip.

And are we ready for the hair?

Would you like to do the honours?

What's troubling you, Henry?

I think I've lost my
self-confidence, George.

What?

Have a look at this.

Somebody gave this to you?

The most fetching woman.

She works at McGillian's
ice cream stand.

McGillian's ice cream?
She gave this to you?

Don't sound so surprised, George.

Henry, it seems to me
if she gave it to you,

the door is wide open.
Walk on through, mate.

You know, you're right, George.

She's a forward, modern woman.

I have to meet her on her level.

Thank you, George.

See how much larger her eyes look?

Isn't that delightful?

More of a rosebud shape
with the lips, perhaps.

Ahh, wonderful.

Except...

her nose.

It is rather prominent.

Of course, there is a man who can
do remarkable things with noses.

You know, surgically.

Yes, but that kind of surgery is
still in its experimental stages.

Surely it would leave terrible scars.

- That could be obscured with a good face powder.
- Really?

Genevieve Dawson.

- No!
- Oh, she told me so herself.

Just look closely the
next time you see her.

She went to New York
City to have it done.

- New York?
- Yes, to Dr. Victor Fry.

Oh, he's a sensation.

Our suspect went to New York.

Then I imagine she might
have visited Dr. Fry.

Oscar, this may be very important!

I have to tell William!

Let's see what we can do here.

Nina!

Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude

- to go through a woman's drawers?
- Josie!

- These are yours, aren't they?
- I must admit,

I was sorely tempted to
give you one of those.

I was curious to see how
sweet on Nina you really were.

Well, I'm flattered, but

I have a feeling you and I
have very differing hobbies.

You like my dancing.

And don't you think I'm pretty?

Of course.

All those men you gave these cards to,

they thought you were
pretty too, didn't they?

Do you think Nina is prettier?

I am sorry she met you first, George.

I feel as though we
could really get along.

Tell me I'm pretty.

Or perhaps you could show me, George.

You needn't be afraid
of this rouge stick.

I chose the colour especially for you.

Josie!

- What do you think you're doing?
- Your gentleman friend

isn't as loyal as you think, Nina.

That's not true.

Oh!

- Oh, my God!
- My nose!

My nose!

My nose!

Doris Strachan, you're under arrest

- for murder.
- Murder? Josie?

Thank you for your
assistance, Miss Bloom.

You're most welcome, Constable Crabtree.

It seems you've gone to great
lengths to change your appearance.

I doubt very much you could
ever know how that feels,

living life every day as a humiliation.

You put yourself in harm's way,

applying cyanide to your lips.

It was worth the risk.

Four men are dead.

Their last moments were happy.

Death by cyanide is very painful.

But they were with me,

beautiful me,

and I was kind to them, Detective.

I never even told them who I was.

I think a couple of them
figured it out, but by

that point it was too late.

They got what they deserved.

- For being unkind to you.
- Oh, yes.

They gave me the right.

What they did to me,

how they made me feel...

useless,

worthless,

ugly.

That's no reason to kill.

You beautiful people
will never understand.

I was finally desired.

And it was the most...

wondrous thing ever.

Where's Henry?

Well, he's mustered up his courage

and gone to talk to a young lady.

The woman from
McGillian's ice cream stand

- gave him a flirtation card.
- Oh, no.

What is it?

She didn't give him the card. I did.

Jackson, he'll be crushed!

Oh, Henry! Henry!

- Poor Higgins.
- Poor girl.

Excuse me, what are you doing?

That's a beautiful dress you're wearing.

Would make a lovely
decoration for my floor.

I suppose we will have to
find which room best suits it.

Come back for eight, why don't you.

All right, then.

Oh, of course.

Thank you.

I can't say that was
the outcome I expected.

Nor I, Jackson.

Nor I.

Nina.

You wanted to see me?

Yes, George.

Why are we up here?

This is a place I come when
I want to think about things.

I see.

I would like you to have this.

I don't want them anymore.

Do with them what you may.

Why did you do that, George?

Everybody should be able to

entertain the possibility
that they're admired.

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