09x01 - Nolo Contendere

[bunniefuu]

(theme music)

guard: Come on, hurry up!

Ugh! Ah!

Copper... one of these days, when their backs are turned, huh...

(chuckling)

You're the copper?

Who wants to know?

Name's Julian Foster.

I'm only in for as*ault.

Good for you.

What I mean is I'll be out soon, and I have some business to attend to, business that could profit us both.

How so?

Tell me where she is.

Who?

The one whose husband you're doing time for k*lling.

Why are you looking for her?!

It's not just me.

If you care for her, you'd best let me find her first.

Move apart!

Meet me in the coal shed in 10 minutes.

William... what do you think of this?

"Cartography exhibit.

The original Mercator projection."

The complete planisphere.

They're only in town for a little while. I thought we might have lunch after.

Better get going then.

(phone ringing)

Hello?

Henry, a burglary isn't usually something that requires my attention.

I see. Yes, yes, I'll be there presently.

No Mercator projection?

There's been a burglary at Edna Brooks' old residence.

Then, you should go.

Probably has nothing to do with her, but...

George is in prison for a crime she likely committed; it's better a dead-end than a missed opportunity.

You're right.

(indistinct chatter)

guard: Keep away.

♪

Oh, my God!

Foster!

Foster, look, look at me.

Who... who... who did this to you?

What does this have to do with Edna Brooks?! Fos... !

Dammit!

Guards! Guards!

George: What are you doing?!

Get back with the others.

You can't move the body like... Ugh!

Ugh!

Let's go on.

You're destroying evidence!

Don't get involved!

That man was m*rder*d.

It's not your concern.

George: As a matter of fact, it's of great concern to me.

Then be smart about it.

guard: Back to it!

Mr. Suffock's been living here for the past four months, and this is the first break-in as far as he knows.

What was taken, Mr. Suffock?

Uh, nothing as far as I can tell.

He returned home from his night shift and he found his curtains were drawn, sir.

They were open before I left to work.

I was thinking that the intruder may not have wanted to be seen from the outside, sir.

A reasonable assumption.

(Horse whinnying)

No sign of forced entry. Did you lock that door?

Of course. They must have picked the lock.

Or had a key.

You think Mrs. Brooks returned, sir?

♪

Sir?

Something is different from when I was last here.

What?

I... I don't know. Henry, please fetch my camera.

Right away.

You're not a policeman anymore so stop behaving like one.

That man who was k*lled, he's somehow connected to a woman by the name of Edna Brooks.

Yes, I know who she is.

You do?

She's the reason you're in here, is she not?

She k*lled her husband, and you took responsibility for it.

What makes you think I didn't k*ll him?

If you'd been guilty, you would have pled guilty.

If you were both innocent you would have pled not guilty.

Instead you pled nolo contendere, no contest, the only plea that would close the case without forcing you to confess to a crime you didn't commit.

You're either the most noble man I've ever met or the stupidest.

I can't quite decide which.

Good luck to you.

There's plenty of break-ins in that neighbourhood, Murdoch.

There was no sign of forced entry, sir, and the curtains were deliberately drawn.

So, Edna Brooks went back to her apartment, is that what you're suggesting?

It's possible.

You're clutching at straws.

Sir, they are all I have.

Bloody Crabtree! If he would just tell us where she was. I know he knows!

I've tried. He won't even see me.

So, how is this lot gonna help?

Well, sir, if Edna Brooks did return to her apartment, she did so for a reason.

What exactly are you looking for?

I'm not sure. Something is different from when we were there last.

After Archie Brooks' m*rder?

Is something missing?

I don't know. I can't quite put my finger on it.

Spot the difference.

What fun! They could make a game out of this.

The blood is gone.

And there's a new tablecloth.

Hmm, not that.

Look at the stove.

What?

Look at the stove pipe.

It was misaligned and now it's not.

That's it! That's what was bothering me!

The stove pipe was removed and then replaced.

Someone was looking for something.

Or retrieving it.

(both chuckling)

I knew there was a reason I married you. (Murdoch laughing)

(indistinct conversations)

guard: Alright, stand in the yard!

I wouldn't do that.

I need to see that body before it's disposed of.

Just wait a moment.

You know something? He said your mother was a prost*tute.

He did, did he?

What are you saying about my mother? You better watch it!

Get out of here! I never said nothing!

You made a big mistake!

Get off of me!

(indistinct shouting)

Break it off!

I'll k*ll you!

You better watch it!

YOU better watch it!

(indistinct shouting outside)

guard: Come on! Let's go to work! Move 'em!

Sir.

It's good to see you, George.

Thank you for coming, sir.

What have you?

A man by the name of Julian Foster was k*lled in here yesterday.

He was in the same regiment as Archibald Brooks.

How do you know that?

They share a regimental tattoo.

And, sir, he told me he was to be released soon, and he was asking Edna's whereabouts.

I think she might be in danger.

Where is she?

Ah, I can't tell you what I don't know.

You do know.

I can still tell when you're lying to me, George.

You're protecting her.

Sir, you of all people should understand.

Foster was m*rder*d, sir; it might have something to do with Archibald Brooks.

I'll look into it.

guard: Take him out of here.

guard: That's it.

Stand back, please.

(indistinct chatter)

You found us an apartment on Trafalgar Square?

Not on it, but three blocks away.

I have butterflies.

Good butterflies?

I think so.

Oh, Emily, I'm so excited you've decided to come.

The suffrage movement there is years ahead of Canada.

We did run a candidate for provincial election.

Yes. That is why Emily Pankhurst wants us to join her.

Oh, I should go.

I'll see you at home.

What have you, Detective?

The victim's name is Julian Foster.

He was m*rder*d in the Don Jail.

And I have assumed jurisdiction.

He was stabbed, and I believe this to be the m*rder w*apon.

I should be able to confirm that.

Doctor... this may have something to do with the Archibald Brooks' case.

I'll see what I can find.

Thank you, Doctor.

And how do you suggest we proceed?

We ask around. The door to the coal shed was open to the yard. Somebody saw something.

And you think they'll talk to us?

A h*m* and a disgraced police officer?

So what do you suggest? We do nothing?

Is that the only inference you can draw?

guard: You lads...

How would you proceed?

Why are these men in here, Crabtree?

What common trait do they hold?

Poor judgment.

And what constitutes poor judgment?

Rashness, I suppose.

A tendency to act without regarding consequence.

Or is it the inability to imagine the series of events that led them to their present circumstance and correctly assess its probability?

Stupidity, Crabtree.

Thought-stunting, bat-blind stupidity is the sine qua non of incarceration.

Wouldn't that include us?

Indeed.

But stupidity is relative.

Some have it in abundance, and others have comparatively little.

As members of the latter category, we have an advantage, and I suggest we use it.

Put it on the desk, James, and open it up.

Julian Foster's worldly possessions.

I paid a visit to his rooming house.

Thank you, sir.

I fancied the stroll.

Good lad.

Foster's honourable discharge certificate, dated last November.

Oh, I'd imagine that was taken during the w*r.

Sir, have a look at the third man from the left.

Archie Brooks. They must have known each other.

Indeed.

"Notice of Desertion."

For whom?

Some character named Douglas Roper.

Well, they were in a different unit.

Why would Foster be keeping all of this?

"Doug Roper. 301 Linden Street."

I'm sorry. I don't know where Douglas is.

He never returned from the w*r.

You think he's dead.

I wish I could hope otherwise.

What do you all want from him anyway?

I'm sorry, "all"?

There were others looking for him.

Brackenreid: Who?

A few months ago, a couple of men came asking after him.

I told them what I told you.

Uh... was one of them this man?

Yes, that's him.

What about the other man?

I never got a good look at him.

I didn't know they were soldiers.

Do you think they know something?

Do you think Douglas is alive?

I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't know what happened to your husband.

I saw you nodding at that detective like you were telling him something.

We used to work together.

Well, you might want to be careful, otherwise people think you're a rat.

He doesn't need my help.

If he found the m*rder w*apon, he'll find fingermarks.

Not if they've been wiped.

How long have you been in here?

Detective Murdoch invented a technique to find fingermarks even after they've been wiped off.

Really?

He rubs a compound on it, puts it under some special light; the fingermarks glow red.

Red?

Something to remember when you get out of here.

Mark my words. As soon as he matches the fingermark, he'll make an arrest.

Now, do you care to make a wager on who?

For money?

Yes, for money. I'm gonna take odds.

On who k*lled Foster?

If you pass it around, I'll cut you in.

Only, tell the right people.

We don't want the guards getting wind of this.

(clicking tongue)

(indistinct talking)

(laughter)

Julia Ogden: Are you coming to bed, William?

Murdoch: In just a moment.

What has you so engrossed?

An unusual coincidence.

Archibald Brooks was reported k*lled in battle the day before Douglas Roper was declared a deserter.

Did the two men know each other?

Impossible to say, but they were in the same battle.

How did the army know that Mr. Roper wasn't just missing in action?

His identification tags were found in a hotel in Johannesburg.

So, a dead man comes to life, and a presumably living man disappears without a trace.

Curious turn of events, no?

guard: Alright, you're relieved.

10 to 1?

You don't think I'm capable of m*rder?

OK, 5 to 1, you feel better?

What's your game?

I'm just looking for a way to pass the time.

But you're not on the board.

I didn't k*ll the guy.

Come on, Lester, it's just a harmless bit of fun.

What you getting out of it?

We're splitting the spread.

What's my cut?

We'll cut you in for half again for every bet you bring in.

(Lester scoffs.)

Pearson.

Pearson's going at 10 to 1; Franklin might be a better value.

Pearson.

Pearson it is.

You're thinking that Archie Brooks switched identities with this Douglas Roper character.

It would explain Brooks' unlikely resurrection and Roper's disappearance.

Being dead has its advantages.

Especially if you're the only one who knows.

His mates didn't know.

They came looking for Roper.

Perhaps they were confirming a suspicion.

You think they were really after Brooks?

Foster was asking George about Edna.

Could she be mixed up in this?

Someone was looking for something in her apartment.

Sir, why do you think Brooks wandered into a back alley after he was sh*t?

Brackenreid: Looking for help, I imagine.

Murdoch: Why not go out the front door? More likely to find people.

Brackenreid: Not everyone thinks as straight as you.

Murdoch: No, sir.

No single act is undertaken without a reason.

Archibald Brooks was sh*t.

But he was a soldier, he would have surmised that he was in mortal danger.

Yet, he chose to wander into a back alley in the dead of winter instead of seeking help.

What was he after?

I take it you didn't see his face.

How do you know that?

Location of the wound.

Your head was turned when the pipe hit you.

You think it was a pipe?

If it had an edge, I might be doing this on the morgue table.

(Murdoch exclaiming in pain)

That's what you get for skulking around a deserted alley all by yourself.

Well, I found out what Foster and his partner were after.

A raw diamond?

This case does have its roots in South Africa.

And not just South Africa. The bloody Boer w*r.

This could be w*r booty.

However it came to be, if Archibald Brooks came into possession of this diamond, swapping identities with Douglas would provide him with the opportunity to flee with it.

And how did Foster and his partner find out about it?

Well, sir, perhaps the diamond was hidden by all three of them.

They made a pact to retrieve it together.

Yes. But Brooks had the opportunity to retrieve it for himself. The other two, believing he was dead, return to the hiding spot but found the diamond gone.

So, they think back and they put two and two together.

Hence the visit to Mrs. Roper.

(indistinct chatter)

You think Archibald Brooks' army buddies k*lled him?

It's a version of the events that's consistent with the facts.

It certainly would explain a lot.

But we need to know if it's consistent with what you know to be true.

It is.

(Murdoch sighs.)

You have to tell me, George.

I need to hear it from you.

Did you k*ll Archibald Brooks?

No, sir, I did not.

But you thought Edna did.

Now, why would you think... ?

Sir, I bought her the g*n.

I showed her how to use it.

I may as well have pulled the trigger myself.

You have to tell me where she is.

(knocking on a door)

George: You remember I was upset the night of the stakeout?

Yes. Of course, I remember.

You had been to her place, to Edna's.

But I went by way of the back alley in case Archibald Brooks was home.

And you discovered his body.

Archibald had come home, drunk and belligerent.

Did he hit you?

I stayed out of his way.

I waited until he fell asleep, and then I left.

Where to?

I... I wanted to... rent a room in the Junction for Simon and I.

I had enough money for a week, but...

I hadn't gone five blocks when I remembered that I'd left the money in the apartment.

So you went back.

Yes, and Archie was gone.

I was relieved.

And then I saw the blood.

And then I saw the g*n.

Ah, the g*n! I didn't want to leave her without any kind of protection.

I... I kept it at the back of the kitchen drawer.

But that's not where you found it.

It was on the table.

I picked it up. It was still warm.

And that's when George came in.

She's standing there, holding the g*n. I walked up to her. I didn't even notice the blood that I'd stepped in.

He told me that the police would be here soon, and that they'd want to speak to me, and that I had to leave now.

I told her to collect Simon and go to an address that I'd given her where I knew she'd be safe.

And he told me to never try to contact him, no matter what.

You thought George k*lled your husband.

Of course I did. Do you think that I would have let him take the blame if I didn't?

I loved him.

I still do.

They both thought the other one did it.

And bloody Crabtree wiped the fingermarks that could have proven them both innocent.

Indeed.

So what now?

We go back to the evidence.

What's that?

It's a scarf found on Mr. Brooks' body.

No doubt he used it to staunch the blood.

What else have we got?

Not much, I'm afraid.

(Phone ringing)

Detective Murdoch.

I don't have much. I've confirmed the blade you found was the m*rder w*apon.

The s*ab was an underhand thrust. No defensive wounds.

So, the victim wasn't expecting it.

Based on the angle of entry, I've estimated the k*ller was several inches taller than the victim.

(indistinct chatter)

Edna!

George!

Step back!

You got five minutes.

I can't believe you did this.

I can't believe you'd think that I could let you.

How is Simon?

I don't know.

He's not living with me.

He thinks that I k*lled his father.

Did he say that?

Not in so many words. What do we do?

We find the man who k*lled Foster. He's in here somewhere.

How will that help?

He was likely hired by Foster's partner, and one of the two of them k*lled your husband. I'm sure of it.

(indistinct chatter)

You got the inmates to bet on who the k*ller is?

It won't stand up in court of course, but I'm sure you can extract a confession once the suspect is identified.

And do you have a suspect?

We believe so.

A man named Carter got the most bets, but that was expected due to his thuggish reputation.

The trick was to measure the deviation between the expected and the empirical results.

There was an anomaly.

Pearson.

Everyone who bet on him was in the yard at the time of the m*rder.

And none of those men could be persuaded to change their bets.

Thank you.

Mr. Pearson!

I don't have to talk to you.

That matters little to me.

The evidence speaks for itself.

But you may find that it's in your best interests to do so.

How's that? I'm already a convicted criminal.

Right.

We'd like to know who hired you.

Nobody hired me.

I doubt very much that you k*lled Mr. Foster for free.

Why not?

Can't spend money in prison.

I sure as hell ain't gonna spend it where I'm going.

But if that money had been given to your mother...

It would be a shame to have to confiscate that money simply because you wouldn't help us out.

I never got his name. He was referred to me.

By whom?

He never said.

Do you see him here in this photograph?

Maybe.

Well, then maybe you could point him out.

Sirs, I've identified the man in the photo.

His name is Joseph Pringle. He was discharged the same day as Foster.

Do we have an address?

Just an old one in Kingston, sir. Nothing in Toronto.

Henry, we need to find this man.

We have to be able to place him at the scene.

Sir.

Murdoch, Edna Brooks said the barrel of the w*apon was still warm when she picked it up.

She could have seen the k*ller leaving on her way back.

If I did, I don't remember.

Simon might have seen something.

How's that?

He returned to the apartment when I was gone.

How do you know that?

He took the money.

I found it missing when I returned.

Where might we find him?

(Edna sighs.)

Please, if you have any idea...

(tapping cane on wood)

Ah! Ugh!

Stop!

Police! Stay right there!

Simon, your mother's worried about you.

She's not my mother.

She says that you went back to the apartment the night that your father was k*lled.

She lied!

She knows, Simon.

She said that you took some money that she was saving.

I didn't take anything.

Listen. We don't care about the money. We think you might have seen something the night that your father was k*lled.

I didn't see anything.

Simon... we believe your father may have been k*lled by a fellow soldier.

Not Constable Crabtree?

We need your help, son.

(Simon exhales.)

Did you return to the apartment the night of your father's m*rder?

Yes.

Where was your father when you returned home?

In bed. Sleeping one off.

Was anyone hanging around when you entered or left the apartment?

Uh, there was a man outside when I left.

A man. Right.

Um, do you recognize that man from any of these photographs?

I... can't remember his face.

What do you remember, son? What was he wearing?

A coat.

Colour?

Can't remember.

What do you remember, Simon?

He was, he was wearing a scarf.

You remember that?

Well, it was cold, I wished I had one.

Alright, a scarf.

Can you describe it?

Had stripes.

What colour stripes?

Different colours.

Blue...

(Simon sighs.) Uh, red maybe and white.

Alright, Simon, thinking back on that scarf... look at these photographs.

Do you see the man that was wearing it in any of these photographs?

Whoever was wearing it likely k*lled your father.

Think, Simon.

Well, it's him if it's anybody.

Bloody hell. We've got him.

Now, we just have to find him.

Thank you, Simon.

(Simon sighs.)

They told me I could keep the money.

Mrs. Pearson, please have a seat.

It's not in our interest to deprive you of the money.

We do however need your help to set an innocent man free.

Well, alright.

Now, we believe you recently received a payment from... this man?

I don't know his name.

We know who he is. We're trying to locate him.

I don't know where he lives.

I'm sorry. I wish I could help.

Mrs. Pearson...

... did you receive payment personally?

He left it in the mailbox like he was supposed to.

Did you see him?

Through the window.

Was he coming or going?

Coming.

From which direction?

Sherbourne Street.

And what of his appearance? How was he dressed?

Regular like.

Working clothes.

Mrs. Pearson, I am going to need to see that money and the envelope it came in.

Didn't come in an envelope. It was a bag.

A brown bag.

Where is it?

I get to keep it, right?

Brackenreid: This is all we've got?

These bills are part of an issue distributed to nine branches of the Toronto Bank.

Out of how many?

Twelve.

That doesn't narrow it down by very much, does it?

No, but other factors do.

He was returning from work somewhere east of Mrs. Pearson's home.

That narrows it down to six branches.

Uh, the bag itself is plain brown paper.

Too widely distributed to be of any help.

But there are other clues.

Such as?

A spot of mold on the inside.

I've asked Dr. Ogden to help identify it.

Of course you have.

On the underside, a smear of grease, perhaps from being placed on a work bench.

It will be my job to determine what kind.

♪

(Ogden gasping) It's definitely mold.

♪

A variety of penicillin by the looks of it.

Well, this is definitely grease.

Petroleum-based, I think.

(drawer sliding open)

It's bicycle grease!

It's Roquefort cheese!

Oh...

"Ontario and Wilton."

Roquefort is imported from France.

Only one distributor sells to delicatessens and grocers.

We're restricting our search to delicatessens who serve the workers' meals in brown paper bags.

Next, Henry.

Uh, "Wyatt and Sumach."

Those are the green pins; what about the blue?

Bicycle shops. We believe he worked in a bicycle shop.

We're looking for all three colours to be present within walking distance during his lunch hour. Next.

"Queen East at River Street," sir.

Queen and River.

I believe we have it.

Right then.

Let's get cracking.

man: Let's get a move on.

Excuse me. Does this man work here?

Murdoch: Have you seen him lately?

Stop! Police!

(Suspenseful music)

Stop!

Murdoch, I'll head him off!

Stop!

Mr. Pringle, stop!

You're under arrest!

No!

Ugh!

(grunting) AAAAAH!

(body impacting ground)

Don't worry, Murdoch.

Even without him, we've got the evidence to get Crabtree out.

♪

(inaudible conversation)

Lads, let's at least appear to be working.

(policemen chattering)

(inaudible talking)

How long have they been in there?

Not quite an hour.

♪

George Crabtree has been exonerated and will be released forthwith.

Hey!

(indistinct chatter)

So, now is our time of parting.

I'm afraid it is.

Congratulations.

You know, I couldn't have done it without you.

I disagree.

You've proven yourself a fine detective, Crabtree.

That's funny, considering I'll probably never be one now.

True. You won't be going back to the life you had.

It's not gonna be easy for you.

Well, I've got the love of a good woman and a boy who needs taking care of.

I'll see to that.

Well, good luck to you then.

♪

guard: Clear the gate.

(clanking)

Brackenreid: Could sink a man if he swallowed this.

38 carats.

It will be beautiful when it's cut.

I understand you've located an owner.

Wealthy Dutchman from the Western Transvaal.

Paid for it with his own blood, no doubt.

O'Reilly. Gilchrist.

You've visited the armory?

Straight to the bank and no stopping to gawk at it.

♪

(phone ringing)

(George sighs.)

George! Hahaha!

Henry! Good to see you!

You've helped yourself to my desk, I see.

You weren't using it.

Murdoch: George!

Sir.

Welcome home.

We're so glad to see you back.

Thank you, Doctor. And thank you, sir, for everything you did. Everything you all did.

Have you met with the new Chief Constable?

I have. I return as Constable Third Class. Three months' probation.

You got off cheap.

I'm aware of that.

What's this?

Brackenreid: It's the evidence that convicted you.

And then helped exonerate you.

I was about to put it away.

Brackenreid: Somewhere we can all forget about it.

Where did this come from?

With Archibald Brooks' body.

He used it to staunch the blood.

Brackenreid: Belonged to the k*ller. Simon identified it.

George?

You alright, George?

Sir... this is Simon's scarf.

Are you sure?

I gave it to him.

Murdoch, echoing: What do you remember, Simon?

echoing: He, uh... he was wearing a scarf.

echoing: Whoever was wearing it likely k*lled your father.

♪

(g*nsh*t)

AH! Ah, ah...

(Simon gasping)

Edna's voice: Dear George, the fates are against us.

Perhaps, they always were.

I'll never forget what you did for us.

Please forgive my doing what I must.

I love you and I will miss you always.

So when Edna heard Simon lie about the scarf, she knew he was the k*ller.

Are you going after them?

Bulletins have been sent out, but that's the extent of it.

So you won't pursue them.

If information comes to us, we'll investigate, but no one's burning to see a boy hang for sh**ting his father.

Likely in self-defence.

Exactly.

But you did it, William.

You freed George.

You're a hero.

(both chuckling)

♪

I heard what happened.

I'm sorry.

Wasn't meant to be, I suppose.

I just hope they're alright.

You did everything you could for them, George.

More than any man would.

You were prepared to give them your life.

And now you have yours back.

When do you leave?

Dr. Ogden told me you were going to England.

Three weeks and a day.

You're counting down. It's a good sign.

Means you want to go.

I do.

Well... to new beginnings then.

New beginnings.

Announcer: On the next Murdoch...

Somebody sh*t at me.

Well it's a good thing they missed.

Announcer: A star comes to town but not everyone's a fan.

It's somewhat of a surprise...

That someone hasn't sh*t at me before.

Announcer: William Shatner guest stars in an all-new Murdoch Mysteries, next Monday at 8:00 on CBC.