08x01 - On the Waterfront (Pt 1)

[bunniefuu]

(men shouting)

(woman struggling)

(whistles)

So, what does Mr. Dawkins want to talk about?

I don't know. Wouldn't say a word to me.

He has been acting odd lately.

That's because he's an odd duck.

So, what's on your mind, Richard?

Um... not everyone's here yet.

Well, I wager we'll find out soon enough.

Gentlemen, Mrs. Blake.

It's a pleasure to see you all.

You as well, Mrs. McKinnon.

So, are you all here to petition for my removal?

Mr. Jeffries: Cecily, heavens, no!

The harbour's never run more smoothly.

I suppose sometimes it does take a woman to do a man's job.

Oh! Doesn't he have nerve?

Her husband hardly in the ground!

Well. Mr. Dawkins?

Why have you gathered us all here?

Could we please eat first? I'm famished.

The first courses are set to arrive.

Could you please get a move on?

(screams)

Mr. Jeffries: Oh, good lord!

His name was Richard Dawkins.

Well, the cause of death looks clear.

His skull is crushed.

And he was k*lled in plain view of the others?

(clears throat): His assailants obviously weren't worried about being seen.

George: Sir...

Oh, good gracious.

Sir, the inspector's on his way.

Really? This was enough to rouse him from bed?

Well, m*rder in the dining room of the Queen's Hotel...

I should hope so.

Right.

Detective.

Murdoch: Inspector Slorach.

Good lord!

Are you sure you can't cover him up, or...

Get him down to the morgue and clean this up.

Sir, I miss Inspector Brackenreid.

So do I, George. So do I.

Thank you, Doctor Grace.

May I take my wife home?

Mr. Blake, the detective will want to have a couple of words. Sir?

This is Mr. Arthur Blake.

Mr. Blake.

Do you have anything to add past the general description that it was two men?

I'm sorry, no.

Protecting my wife was my only concern.

Mr. Dawkins was a friend of yours?

A business associate.

And a friend, Arthur, surely?

I'm Cecily McKinnon, the Toronto Harbourmaster.

Oh, pleasure.

What was the purpose of tonight's dinner?

No real purpose, we often got together.

Who arranged this meeting?

Cecily: Mr. Dawkins.

Ah. Do you have any idea what it was about?

I don't.

It all unfolded so quickly.

They just went straight for Richard like madmen.

So he and he alone was the intended target?

Yes. They paid us no mind.

Were any words spoken?

Mr. Jeffries: Nothing I heard.

They clearly came in here with the intention of k*lling him.

You all knew Mr. Dawkins well. Could there be a reason for this?

And nobody will say anything?

Murdoch: They all recounted the events, not much more.

Dawkins was the target.

So it would appear.

No money was stolen, not a word was spoken.

So it was an assassination.

Possibly an assassination, possibly something more. A message.

Exactly. We best get on this.

A m*rder in a fine Toronto establishment does not reflect well on us.

Of course.

Oh, and Murdoch, I've noticed you have yet to request any time off.

Sir?

You are getting married?

Yes.

You haven't picked a date yet?

Oh, don't worry, it won't be on a work day.

Oh, Murdoch, you gotta make an event out of these things. As my wayward wife used to say, there's more to life than m*rder.

My practice keeps me quite busy, Ms. Haile, and I am getting married.

Of course.

But I do think that we can accomplish this, especially with the assistance of women like you.

Well, I doubt that you need me.

That's where you're wrong.

You are a woman of great achievement.

And more than my share of scandal.

I can look past that.

You do agree that women are deserving of the right to vote?

(sighs): Of course.

I intend to see that women's suffrage is achieved in my lifetime.

And I can't do that without people like you at my side.

Add your voice, Dr. Ogden.

You do believe in justice, don't you?

And what is more just than granting women the right to franchise?

I appreciate this, Mrs. Dawkins.

The loss of your husband must be a terrible blow.

Thank you, but please be brief.

Yes. Yes, of course.

Your husband owned a business down by the Toronto docks?

Yes, a chandlery.

Right.

And did he often have dinner with his fellow merchants?

No, he didn't much care for them.

Hmm. And why did he set up this dinner?

I have no idea.

Do you have any idea what he may have wanted to speak to his fellow merchants about?

I don't know.

(sighs): Mrs. Dawkins, the men who k*lled your husband very clearly targeted him.

Richard was a quiet man.

Most people hardly gave him the time of day.

And yet, someone wanted him dead.

Could it have anything to do with this dinner?

Detective Murdoch, if you want the truth, Richard was considering selling the chandlery and getting away from the waterfront altogether.

Why is that?

I don't know. But something was troubling him.

In the last week, he wasn't the same man.

Alright. Do you have any idea why that could be?

Who was he planning to sell to?

Mr. Lionel Jeffries.

George: I once considered a seaman's life.

Murdoch: Did you, George?

The smell of the salt air, the sound of the crashing waves, the bracing wind in your hair...

No doubt a result of your Newfoundland upbringing, George.

No, I wouldn't say, sir. Why do you say that?

Oh, I don't know...

Doesn't the thought of a rousing nautical adventure appeal to you?

I have my share of adventures, thank you, George.

Mr. Jeffries.

Detective Murdoch.

Have you any further information?

Unfortunately, no. Only more questions.

Go ahead.

You expressed interest in purchasing Mr. Dawkins' chandlery prior to his m*rder?

I did.

By all accounts it was a successful business.

Why would he care to sell it?

I have no idea.

I see.

Mrs. Dawkins mentioned that her husband had been acting strangely.

Do you know anything about that?

No, I don't.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm a busy man.

Your inspector was here some months ago. I'm terribly sorry about what happened to him.

Murdoch: As am I.

Did he tell you what he'd been investigating?

There had been some vandalism, hooliganism...

Nothing much, really.

Just men too long on boats letting off steam.

Indeed.

A dangerous place for a woman to work.

That may be.

But I've had little trouble down here so far.

Did the merchants tell you what they were meeting about?

Oh, sir. I am merely the harbourmaster.

I log the movements of the ships entering and leaving Toronto.

What they do with their businesses here is of little concern to me.

Yet you were at their dinner.

Yes, I had been invited.

I suppose they were taking pity on the widow.

Detective, are you sure you're looking in the right direction?

How do you mean?

Contrary to what others may tell you, Richard Dawkins was no saint.

And that was the reason for his death?

Prostitutes and their procurers are not angels.

But then, I very much doubt I have to tell you that.

(man): Heads up!

Pass it back over here, why don't you?

Sir.

I see them.

Nothing will be accomplished by speaking to them, George.

Not yet.

Sir, these are the ones who did in the Inspector.

Allegedly.

Tell Jackson to stay down here.

(man): Couple of bloody coppers!

Let's let them know that we're here now and we're not planning on leaving.

Dr. Grace: The injuries inflicted upon Mr. Dawkins are similar to those of the Inspector.

How do you mean? The same weapons?

I can't be certain, but they are similar.

Hardly a definitive link.

I would have to agree.

William!

Julia!

Oh! I will be ready in a moment.

The right to vote this is so exciting!

Don't tell me you've dragged her into this, as well?

Julia, please do try to stay out of trouble.

Police detective's bride-to-be behind bars?

My loving fiancé would break me out.

I'm simply reminding you that the law is not as forward-thinking as you are.

Then perhaps the law needs a little help.

Good day.

Hello there. (Spits)

And a nice day to you as well, sir.

(man): SHUT UP!

(woman screams)

(grunts)

(groaning)

(Knocks)

Sir!

It's alright, Jackson. No need.

Who did this to you?

They struck me from behind, sir.

The manner of w*apon?

They just used their boots and fists, sir.

"They". How many were there?

I don't know. Certainly more than one.

(sighs): And no one saw anything?

Well, there were people down there, sir, but no-one helped me.

You'd think someone would help a policeman.

Yes. Do you recall anything out of the ordinary?

I thought I heard a noise, a voice, but...

Constable Jackman... Jackson. How are you?

(Jackson groaning)

Ooh, not well.

Detective.

Inspector.

Constable Jackson doesn't seem to recall anything about his assailants.

Is there any reason for the b*ating?

It would appear someone doesn't want us down by the docks.

Rest up, Jackson, and, um...

(Jackson groaning)

... if you recall anything...

(hoarsely): Yes, sir.

What the devil is that?

This?

This is your lucky day, Jackson. Kaposzta.

Made with my mother's loving hand.

You get a couple of those in your belly, you're right as rain in no time.

(chuckles)

Ms. Haile: And the right to vote is within our grasp.

Not sometime this century, not in 50 years, but now.

Together, we can change the course of history.

(murmured agreement)

Strong words. I wish I had your confidence.

Well, we are nothing without confidence, or precedent.

Precedent?

Ms. Haile: Oh! Pardon me.

Kathleen, this is Dr. Julia Ogden and Dr. Emily Grace.

Pleased to meet you. Doctors?

Yes, that's right.

Women of considerable accomplishment.

Well, surely you must believe that you are of sufficient intellectual capacity to be deserving of the ballot box.

Yes, of course.

More than many men.

Yeah, well, most of us are.

But it's our job to try and convince them of that.

When I speak of precedent, are you aware that women of both Australia and New Zealand have had the right to vote for almost ten years?

Well, I'd say it's time we caught up with our antipodal sisters.

Ms. Haile: We are requesting an audience with the premier. He's a reasonable man.

To that end, we need to continue to gather as many signatures as we can supporting the cause of women's suffrage. Can we count on you?

Of course.

Thank you.

I want you and Henry to head down to the docks.

Are you sure that's such a wise idea, considering what happened to Constable Jackson?

Uh, the Inspector makes a point, sir.

Henry, if you don't feel you can handle it, then perhaps I should send someone else down who can.

Let's go, Henry.

Oh, and George, feel free to let the O'Sheas know that we're not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Sir.

Thank you.

Here, Detective.

Are those the two that att*cked the inspector?

Allegedly.

Oh, of course. Hmm.

And they're behind the att*cks of Dawkins and Constable Jackson?

I don't know that.

But it stands to reason that either they or someone close to them did it.

Brutal, unprovoked assaults seem to be their stock-in-trade.

Where you goin'?

To speak to someone who may be able to shed some light on this.

Inspector?

Murdoch.

Well, that's quite good.

You think?

I'm having trouble with my clouds.

So, what brings you here?

Sir, there's been a m*rder, linked to the docks.

I'm of no use to you.

I know as much as you about what goes on down there.

What were you investigating there?

I was looking into complaints about hooligans disturbing the peace, refusing to leave stores and businesses when asked.

That's all there was to it. Oh...

Oh. If you like, I can...

No bother.

Sir, Constable Jackson was att*cked down by the docks and we believe it was the O'Sheas.

Can't help ya.

Sir, any information you could give...

I'm not a policeman anymore, I can't help ya.

Sir, I'm speaking about the men that nearly k*lled you.

Well, they didn't.

And we don't know it was them.

Have you given any thought as to why you were att*cked?

Someone at the docks didn't take to me sniffing around there, I suppose.

And that someone?

Murdoch, I don't know any more than I've told you already and I'm done with this whole business.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to my clouds.

Yes, of course.

Good day, sir.

So, were you able to talk sense to him?

You know your husband.

(sighs): I thought I did.

He's not the same man, Detective.

Well, he's suffered a grievous injury.

From which he's recovered... at least physically.

Detective, he just sits there like a lump. He won't retire, he won't return to work. He won't do anything.

It's as if the b*ating took the life out of him.

(sighs)

And what about respecting the Inspector's privacy?

Mrs. Brackenreid is concerned as well.

Well, what is it you want me to do?

I'm not sure.

But the person I spoke with is not the man I know.

It would mean a great deal to me if you would speak with him.

Of course, William.

This is a lovely neighbourhood, don't you think?

Oh, yes. Yes, very nice.

But far too expensive, I'd wager.

We don't want you down here.

Well, we're not interested in what you want, sir.

"Sir"! Copper here thinks I'm a gentleman.

No matter what you think, the waterfront is still under the jurisdiction of the Toronto Constabulary.

Henry: George.

Lad! You there! Hey, come...

O'Shea: Go lad, go! Run, boy!

Don't let those wretched coppers catch you!

Henry: Out the way!

George: Sweet mother!

Henry: You alright, George?

Yes.

Thanks tremendously, Higgins.

Well, I did point him out.

Come on.

(groaning)

You lot can stay as long as you like.

You're obviously as useless as tits on a bull.

Brackenreid: I'd been investigating reports of hooliganism down the dockyards.

I arrested a number of dockworkers and invited them to spend a night in the cells.

Were these two men among those you took in?

One of them was.

Mick O'Shea. The one on the left.

And do you know Mr. O'Shea well?

I'd had run-ins with him before.

And was Mr. O'Shea your attacker?

I believe so.

No further questions.

You "believe so".

Do you know so?

Could your attacker not have been anyone of a number of men that you've come into contact with over the years?

In fact, your sworn statements say you have no recollection of the night in question.

So are you lying now, or were you lying then?

(roaring sound)

Oh, well. Doesn't matter, now. It's over and done with.

And I'm better off out of it.

Are you?

Did Murdoch send you here?

He's concerned about you.

He just wants me back on the force.

Well, if that's where you're meant to be, of course he does.

I thank you both for your concern, but I'm quite content with my lot.

Content or frightened?

It's not the same world out there.

There's no respect for the law anymore.

So I don't care to be a part of it.

You didn't answer the question.

I'm neither. I'm just accepting of the way it is.

So the men who att*cked you win.

As long as you're content.

So when are you marrying?

Soon.

Good.

You know what's a shame?

If he wasn't a bloody papist, they would have given him my job.

From what we can gather, the O'Sheas rule the roost.

Questions about them go unanswered.

People are afraid of them.

Were you able to find anything to suggest that Mr. Dawkins had enemies?

Sir, no one will speak two words to us.

So nothing?

I'm afraid not.

What is it?

(people talking excitedly)

Constabulary. Move aside, please.

Lads.

Have you a cause of death, Doctor Grace?

The most probable cause of death is, of course, drowning.

Fell into the water, got tangled in a fisherman's net.

She has some unusual dental work.

Lead fillings.

They haven't been used in North America in years.

Hmm.

A recent arrival?

Perhaps.

Look at the condition of her clothing.

A vagrant?

Could be.

Or she could have stumbled into the water drunk, or she could have decided to end it all...

No need to speculate at this point, Doctor, all I need is a time of death.

You'll have it.

(phone rings)

City Morgue, Dr. Emily Grace.

Today?

Of course, I can come.

Yes, I know where Queen's Park is.

In an hour.

Mrs. McKinnon: A dead woman?

Yes. She was found yesterday.

Was she from down here?

I don't know.

Well, do we know who she is?

No-one's come forward to claim her, and no-one matching her description was reported missing.

A fallen woman, then?

Perhaps.

Do you have something to add, Mrs. McKinnon?

I shouldn't.

Please.

Mr. Dawkin's association with Doxies was more than mere rumour.

I had heard that he'd been rough with them.

You could have told me this before.

Yes, I should have.

And now that a woman is dead, I deeply regret that I didn't.

But perhaps this is the reason he was m*rder*d there is a rough justice down here.

Justice is the Constabulary's domain.

Yes, of course.

I, um...

I took the liberty of inquiring.

You are a single man, are you not?

I'm engaged to be married.

Oh...

When will that be?

We have yet to set a date.

Oh, I see. Oh, well...

I hope the lucky lady doesn't dally.

Why are you concerning me with this?

I'm terribly sorry to bring this up, Mrs. Dawkins, but it's been suggested to me by a number of people that your husband was... less than honourable.

What do you mean by that?

He was unfaithful.

If that was the case, he got exactly what he deserved.

And unless you have something more to offer than these terrible accusations, I will have to ask you to leave my establishment.

I see you've foregone your husband's wish to sell this place.

My husband's wishes don't matter anymore now, do they?

He's dead.

Mr. Foster, I'm Margaret Haile.

Could we have a word, please?

Of course, ladies.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

We would like you to present the premier with this petition.

What's this?

It is an opportunity for you to establish yourself as a forward-thinker.

We're asking that you extend suffrage to all during the next round of provincial elections.

This is an impressive list of names, Ms. Haile.

Dr. Julia Ogden... another doctor.

Dr. Emily Grace, city of Toronto coroner.

Would one of you ladies...

I am Dr. Emily Grace, sir.

Shouldn't you be attending to your duties, or is the fact that you're employed not enough?

My duties are being well-attended to, sir.

We are here to petition for a woman's right to...

Good day, ladies. I have no interest in this.

This is a civilized province and will continue to be governed only by those with a level head.

Kathleen: Words on a piece of paper are useless.

Then what do you suggest?

A public protest, right in front of the provincial legislature.

Julia, are you sure?

No one will listen if we don't make a sound.

I'm not sure it's a wise idea.

It may not be.

But what better way to wipe the smirk off their faces?

A stick in the mud?

Is that any way to refer to your future husband?

And I'll desist as long as you stop acting like one.

I'm only suggesting that a public protest could result in you being jailed.

You're not trying to stop me, are you?

I doubt very much there would be any point to that.

No.

I'm simply trying to alert you to...

Shh.

Murdoch... Oh! Dr. Ogden.

Inspector.

Planning your nuptials, I see.

Ah! On police time? (Laughs)

Well, don't let me stop you.
(humming "Here Comes the Bride")

He's a lovely man.

Yes, of course.

Mm-hmm.

How was your conversation with Inspector Brackenreid?

I think he's scared, William.

I think he's afraid to face the O'Sheas again.

Detective! I have something for you.

The presence of live lice in her hair indicates she has been dead less than 48 hours.

Roughly the same time as Mr. Dawkins.

Yes.

Could you hazard a before or after?

I could, Detective. I believe she d*ed the night before he did.

Hmm.

And note these bruises.

Are they pre- or post-mortem?

My next task.

No one's gonna tell us anything.

Henry, why do you always have to be such a negative Nelly?

Just calling it like it is.

George!

What is it?

It's that little bugger.

You're right!

Little scallywag.

Hey, you! Lad! Come here!

Hey!

You want him?

Hand him over.

Tell us when you want us to do your work for you again.

Come on, lad.

I didn't steal anything.

I saw you!

Then where is it?

I saw you pick a man's pocket before I caught you.

You didn't catch me.

Those other men did. I was getting away from you.

Mm. He's right about that, George.

Higgins!

Well, he was.

So, I didn't take anything. You didn't catch me.

Can I go home?

No, you can't go home!

You're a pickpocket and a thief! Now...

Have you seen anything funny going on down at the docks?

I said, have you seen anything funny going on down at the docks?

Just you trying to catch me.

Oh, Higgins! But... that is the height of sauciness!

Get up! You, unbelievable... Get up!

What are you doing?

Well, I might not be able to catch a child, but I can throw one in jail. Higgins, thanks again for your tremendous help.

Dr. Grace.

Detective.

What have you?

It's troubling.

It often is.

After the swelling went down, I was able to detect lacerations and bone bruising on her wrists and ankles.

She was manacled for some time before she was thrown into the water.

I see.

The lacerations suggest she struggled before she d*ed.

Well, that doesn't sound like an accidental drowning at all, does it?

(sighs)

Thomas...

Margaret.

Thomas, are you alright?

I'm fine.

Fine?

Is this your life now?

Watering the plants, waiting for death?

Oh, don't be so dramatic. That is not what I'm doing.

In fact, I'm thinking we should move back to England.

You'd like Yorkshire. The boys would like it.

I'm not moving to Yorkshire!

I'm raising our sons in Canada.

It's their home. Our home.

And you're running away from it.

It's not that simple.

Yes, it is.

What happened to the man I married, all piss and vinegar?

It's not all about piss and vinegar.

It's about keeping you safe. Protecting Bobby and John.

We don't need protection.

I was in the hospital three months, Margaret.

I told myself that if I got out, I would never again put my family at risk.

I intend to keep that promise.

In exchange for what?

Do you want this to be the rest of your life?

If it means keeping my family safe.

Your family will be fine with or without you.

But we won't be fine with you as you are now.

We want the old you back.

(sighs)

Besides, you're not some poncey painter.

(chuckles)

I thought I was quite good.

You're a policeman, Thomas.

Don't turn into an old man on our account.

O'Shea: We're looking for the Blackpool residence.

Supposed to pick up an icebox.

Do you know whereabouts they live?

Oh, yes, of course. It's just, uh, down the street, and then a right.

Well thank you kindly, ma'am.

Yes, absolutely...

MARGARET!

Get back here!

I'm sorry, excuse me.

Thomas!

Is everything alright?

What did they want?

They were just asking for directions.

Why, Thomas? What's wrong?

Nothing.

Both Mr. Richard Dawkins and our Jane Doe were found m*rder*d. Both of their deaths are connected by the Toronto waterfront.

I see.

Now, it's possible that our Jane Doe was a prost*tute that Richard Dawkins procured.

Do you think he k*lled her?

Possibly.

But both Mick and Tim O'Shea have been arrested several times for violent crimes down by the docks.

It's more than likely that they're responsible for one or both of these murders.

Sir, I've taken a young lad into custody, he spends a lot of time down at the docklands. I think he might know something.

Well, alright, I'll speak with him.

Let me try, sir, I think I can get him to talk.

Fine. I'll speak with Mrs. Dawkins.

Sir.

Alright.

This is outrageous!

Please, let me finish.

First you suggest my husband is consorting with doxies, and now you call him a m*rder*r?

Where was your husband the night before his death?

You mean the night before he was brutally m*rder*d?

How you doing with that investigation?

Please. Where was he?

I don't know.

Richard was no saint, but he was not a k*ller.

I'm not a dog.

Well, you certainly run like a dog. Would you have preferred handcuffs?

Where are you taking me?

I'm taking you to the Don Jail, and then they'll send you off to the workhouse.

You can't do that!

You broke the law!

But...

You can't. My mother needs me.

Well, perhaps you should have thought about that.

If I tell you something, will you let me go?

I suppose it would depend on what that something is.

I can tell you who att*cked the copper.

I saw it.

Tell me something.

It was Mick and Tim O'Shea.

(grunting)

(jeering and shouting)

(man): What is this? It'll never happen!

Just keep on walking, ladies.

Let's see what our members of parliament have to say to this.

When he ripped that petition in front of us, I thought I would burst.

Eileen! Eileen!

You come home, right now!

Did you not hear me?

Just keep on walking, ladies.

The boy will remain in custody until the O'Sheas are behind bars.

Thank you, sir.

Jackson?

Sir.

You sure you up to this?

Right as rain.

Alright.

(men shouting)

What do you want?

We're looking for Mick and Tim O'Shea.

They're not here.

I'll be the judge of that.

Let us pass.

You'll pass when I say so.

What we are asking for is not scandalous, although there are some who think our very presence here is shocking.

Indeed, so shocking, that the government refuses to acknowledge our very existence.

And we're not asking for much. All we are asking is nothing more than to be treated as intelligent citizens.

I'll arrest the lot of you if need be.

George.

Lads!

Stand aside.

Never!

Men!

And now we are asking more loudly and more forcibly, for you all know there is one inescapable truth: A woman has two children.

One is quiet and mild, the other is loud and complaining.

We know which one gets fed first.

We know which one gets listened to.

We have come here to... Get off of her!

Emily, let's go! Quickly!

You're not getting by!

Take your hands off me!

Mick O'Shea, you're under arrest!

Show yourself!

You should have listened.

We own the waterfront.

Hold him real still, boys.

You're not the law down here.

Brackenreid: O'Shea!

Come on, Tim, let's get away from here! Hurry up!

Murdoch!

Sir, get them!

Inspector!

Crabtree.

Go see to Murdoch.

Where are you going?

To end this.

Sir!

The O'Sheas are mine.