13x13 - k*ll Thy Neighbour

[bunniefuu]

- Are you off home, then, Crabtree?

- Yes, sir.

Then off to dinner with Effie at The Dome.

Oh, that new posh place?

Are we paying you too much, Crabtree?

Or is your lady friend footing the bill?

What do you think, Murdoch?

- Hmm?

- I said are we paying him too much?

Oh nevermind.

You've been distracted all day.

I'm very sorry, sir.

Ever since Julia and I have been staying at the hotel, I've barely gotten any sleep.

Has the flooding at your house not been fixed yet, sir?

The workers we engage keep cancelling.

Sir.

Allow me.

Someone's getting paid too much.

These are lovely.

How did the flooding happen?

Our neighbours, Goldie and Raymond Huckabee, put in a second water line and at the same time, our pipes burst.

That doesn't just happen.

I think they did it on purpose.

Thank you.

Perhaps it was just an accident, sir.

Not where they are concerned, George.

- They've taken a disliking to Julia and I - No!

They've been curt, rude, and I dare I say it malicious.

So where are you off to tonight?

Toronto Mercy Hospital is having their annual fundraising dinner.

I'm only going for Julia's sake and then, in the morning, I'm going to see Huckabee and I'm going to make him pay.

The house is across from Detective Murdoch's.

Yes, this is his neighbour, Raymond Huckabee.

The two have not been getting along well of late.

- And the paperboy called this in?

- That's right, sir.

He said the door was ajar, and when he peered in, he saw a pool of blood on the floor.

I hope there wasn't a m*rder.

It's too lovely a morning for a dead body.

I agree.

I just finished my breakfast.

It was unusual that Detective Murdoch wasn't at the Station House this morning.

He didn't answer the telephone at his hotel, either.

I can't remember the last time the Detective was late for work.

Perhaps he dipped into the wine again.

Toronto Constabulary.

Hello?

That's Raymond Huckabee.

Murdoch must be informed immediately.

I'll go to his hotel myself.

I'll find the telephone and call the Inspector.

Wait, Detective, what's this?

Murdoch?

Murdoch?

Are you in there?

- Inspector.

- What's wrong?

Do you know how late it is?

We must have slept in I feel so thick-headed.

- Yes.

- It's called being hungover.

No, sir.

We aren't.

Look, we've got some bad business to attend to.

- Has there been a m*rder?

- Yes, sir.

- Raymond Huckabee.

- What?

- No.

- That can't be.

I'm afraid so.

We just came from his house.

And we need to talk to you about this.

Your cufflink.

And this was found at the scene?

Right next to Huckabee's body, sir.

This is definitely your cufflink!

You were wearing them last night.

This is ridiculous.

Yes, it may look like one of my cufflinks, but it isn't.

Mine are right here.

Yes.

Perhaps the m*rder*r has the same cufflinks.

- Yes, sir.

- I gave those to William as an anniversary present.

They were my father's.

I see.

One of my cufflinks is missing.

Don't all look at me like that.

Well, we have to ask.

Where were you last night?

We were together all night.

We went to the charity event, everybody saw us there.

- And after?

- We came back here, I had room service send up warm milk for me and a sherry for Julia.

I'm afraid I don't remember anything after that.

And then you overslept.

Did you take a soporific?

No But I feel as though I took several.

There's still some liquid in the glasses.

I'll test them for sedatives.

You know, Murdoch, if anyone else was in this position, we'd have arrested them already.

You had motive, and your cufflink was found at the scene.

Perhaps we should consider that, sir, somebody might be trying to set you up?

It's certainly seems that way, George.

But who?

You can't be serious.

Oh, but I am, Mr.

Crabtree.

It's all there in your contract.

I assume you read your contract.

But that's preposterous.

Not to mention wasteful.

I run a very small publishing house.

We don't have room to store every dud we print.

So you're going to pulp the remaining copies of my book?

No store will take them.

What are we to do?

Give it some time.

Your contract states that if the print run does not sell out in two months, all remaining copies are to be destroyed.

Well, can I keep some copies?

You have your author's copies already.

Good day, Mr.

Crabtree.

- George.

- Oh.

Miss Cherry.

It is not a good time.

George, I thought we were friends.

- You did?

- Friends tell each other things.

Like, the fact that Detective Murdoch's neighbour was gruesomely m*rder*d in his own home.

How do you know that already?

- It was in the Toronto Examiner!

- What?

Do you think the victim's proximity to the Detective had anything to do with his m*rder?

Look, Louise, even if I wanted to help you, Detective Murdoch has a standing directive - not to talk - "Not to talk to Miss Cherry," I know.

But can you comment on the fact that a disproportionate amount of people close to the Detective end up dead?

Thank you for coming in, Mrs.

Huckabee.

Please have a seat.

What else could I have done?

Can you tell us if there was anyone who wished ill on your husband?

Yes.

One man and one man only.

Detective William Murdoch.

- Now, Mrs.

Huckabee - I will not be silenced!

I can tell you all about how that man plagued my dear Ray.

Moving in beside him and his wife was the worst thing we ever did.

I understand you've been staying at your mother's this week.

Do you know what time Mr.

Huckabee would have left the house yesterday morning?

Yes, I spoke to him on the telephone before he left for the office.

At 8 o'clock.

I didn't know it would be the last time I would ever hear his voice.

That man would do all sorts of strange things.

Like, lend us his lawnmower then take it back in the middle of the night.

Loosen the bolts on our carriage wheels.

He even accused Raymond of k*lling me!

That doesn't sound like Murdoch at all.

I just knew no one here would believe me.

Which is why I brought this.

A dossier on William Murdoch.

Proof of everything I've told you.

Are you serious?

That man and his wife are waging a campaign of intimidation against us.

I knew no one would believe us, so I hired a private investigator a few weeks ago.

It must have been my female intuition.

I'm a little bit psychic, you know.

Sometimes a lot psychic.

Indeed.

I've discovered that I was indeed drugged last night.

There was a sedative in the drink, and I've managed to isolate it.

It's called barbital, it's a new substance that's less bitter than bromide.

So you were both drugged.

Well, I was.

I only found it in my glass.

I found nothing in William's glass but milk.

Impossible.

I definitely felt I'd been sedated.

- You'll want to have a look at this.

- What is it?

Goldie Huckabee had you followed by a private investigator for the past few weeks.

It's damning evidence, Murdoch.

Circumstantial, at best.

Did you break into their garden shed?

Of course not.

I tried the door, but it was locked.

I wanted my lawnmower back.

You loosened the bolts on their carriage wheels.

Raymond Huckabee asked me to tighten them.

He didn't have the right tools.

As usual.

It's your word against this investigator and a grieving widow.

Yes.

We need to gather evidence that points away from the Detective.

Miss Hart should be done her postmortem by now.

Shall we?

You go on.

I'm going to work on a timeline.

I narrowed the time of death to between 8 and 10 o'clock at night.

We were at the dinner at that time.

That's good news for you, then.

He had s*ab wounds on both sides of his body?

Yes, three on the front, and these three on his back.

All made with different weapons.

Six different m*rder weapons?

One s*ab each.

It doesn't make any sense.

Curiouser still, all the wounds are all at the same angle.

I also found blood pooled in his feet, suggesting that for a period of time after death, Mr.

Huckabee was upright.

So he stood up for a while after he was k*lled.

Then he was laid down, or fell.

Did you find any defensive wounds?

None.

I have an idea.

Given that it is highly unlikely that six different assailants all stabbed Mr.

Huckabee at precisely the same time, and no, George, I don't believe it was a team of six kung-fu assassins.

Could have been three of them.

If they all had a blade in each hand.

Perhaps it's possible there was no one there at all when Mr.

Huckabee was m*rder*d.

So what's this then, some kind of m*rder device?

Well, it would have required a structure to support the blades, attached to a trip wire, or a switch.

Perhaps it was triggered by the door.

When Mr. Huckabee came home, he activated the device, stabbing himself.

The thrust of the weapons would have required - industrial grade springs.

- It's diabolical.

And a complex bit of machinery, sir.

The only person I know who could put something like this together would be Well Yes.

Well, I didn't.

But the circumstances of this m*rder are such that a device like this could have been used to s*ab Mr.

Huckabee six times, all at once.

Why would someone go to the trouble of building such a device?

So they wouldn't have to be there at the time of the m*rder.

They would ostensibly have an alibi.

But there was no device there.

Perhaps the k*ller left evidence of it.

I've got the photographs from the scene.

What are these marks, on the wall?

Holes.

Holes, you see.

A device could have been bolted to the wall here.

William!

Look!

I knew it!

That's our pelican.

Goldie did steal it after all.

More importantly, these holes prove that a device could have been bolted to the wall.

They would have had to put it up earlier in the day, then take it down again after Huckabee was dead.

Ah, Miss Hart, our little ray of sunshine.

Do come in.

I thought you would want to know, I examined some of the skin samples that I took from around the wounds.

What did you find?

Finely-cut grass clippings.

Grass clippings?

Didn't you and the Huckabee fellow get into a fight over your lawnmower?

And this deep cut here could have been made by a lawnmower blade.

Flooding seems to have receded, sir.

Bit of a musty smell, though.

All right then, Crabbers.

Let the dog see the rabbit.

- Bloody hell, this is heavy.

- Well sir, careful.

You need to lift with your knees, not you back.

Don't just stand there, Crabtree, give me a hand.

Why are we not doing this outside?

It's too bright outside.

We need darkness.

All right then.

William.

It can't be!

There's blood all over this blade, sir.

Not only the blade.

Bloody hell, Murdoch.

If I didn't know you quite so well I would look very, very guilty.

You do believe him, don't you?

That someone is setting him up?

Of course.

Murdoch wouldn't m*rder anyone.

We know that.

But we can't keep all this under our hat much longer.

Louise Cherry is already asking questions.

- What about Goldie Huckabee?

- What about her?

She did steal my pelican.

She's obviously of the criminal persuasion.

Perhaps she k*lled her husband?

She was in Unionville all day with her mother.

I checked.

She told me herself that their previous neighbours in Kingston d*ed under mysterious circumstances.

I'll send Parker to Kingston.

See if he can dig anything up.

Do you really think she could have done something like this?

Yes, well, this m*rder did take planning and ingenuity.

I wonder if she has the mental capacity.

Has anyone spoken to this private investigator?

Mrs.

Huckabee gave me his card.

Private Investigations, Inc.

Come in.

We're looking for a private investigator.

Ralph Fellows.

Detective Murdoch.

We meet again.

You can't arrest me.

Oh yes we can.

This is what's gonna happen.

You'll spend time in our cells.

Then you'll go to trial.

And then you'll hang.

For what, exactly?

Mr.

Fellows, we know you were responsible for the multiple murders last year inspired by my Police manual.

And now we have reason to believe that you are guilty of murdering Raymond Huckabee.

Did I work for the wife?

Yes.

Did I k*ll her husband?

No.

Why would I?

To frame Detective Murdoch, that's bloody well why.

Because you're a crackpot.

Where were you yesterday, Mr. Fellows?

I was working on a case.

I have a very successful business, you know.

In fact, I don't have time for this.

I have another engagement.

The only place you're going to is the cells.

Do you feel all right, Detective.

Getting enough sleep?

Shut up.

Come on.

I cannot arrest Ralph Fellows for the murders last year.

He'll have to be freed.

- But he's guilty!

- According to whom?

Detective Murdoch merely has a feeling that Mr. Fellows committed those crimes.

No hard evidence.

I'm sure if given enough time We cannot keep men locked up until we build a case against them out of whole cloth.

I trust Murdoch.

Not only do you have no hard evidence that Mr. Fellows committed those murders, you now have no evidence he m*rder*d Mr. Huckabee.

The man tried to set up his own sister for m*rder last year.

He's diabolical.

From what you've told me already, all the clues you've uncovered point to yourself, Detective Murdoch.

That's what he wants you to think.

Can you tell me why he is going through such trouble to implicate you?

Ever since we met, the man has been jealous of my superior intellect.

His only goal in life is to see me disgraced.

You sound ridiculous.

Sort this out, Inspector.

And Detective Murdoch, stay out of this.

Before I have to charge you myself.

The Detective isn't going to walk me out himself?

He will most definitely be in touch.

- Your briefcase.

- Ah.

This will prove my whereabouts two days ago.

I was on a job, following this fellow, as he left a bawdy house.

- I'll have to talk to him.

- His name is on the back.

I'm very thorough.

I can't believe he won't be arrested for the previous murders.

So we'll get him on the Huckabee m*rder.

We need to find out precisely when this m*rder contraption was installed.

And when it was taken down.

I'll talk to everyone I can in your neighbourhood, and anyone who had access to the Huckabee house.

Sir, we should have the lads check your house.

Fellows might have left behind fingermarks when he brought the bits and bobs of the contraption back.

- Very good, George.

- Be quick about it, lads.

They won't let us keep this investigation going on much longer.

Together we'll solve this.

Don't worry, William.

Miss Louise Cherry, if I'm not mistaken, from the Toronto Telegraph?

I am she.

I have some information on the Huckabee case.

Oh?

The m*rder*r is none other than Detective Murdoch.

- That seems very hard to believe.

- I have proof.

- How?

- Do you want the exclusive or not?

Should be the last of it.

George!

Did you see the latest article about the Huckabee case?

By Louise Cherry?

Look, anything Louise Cherry writes in the newspaper should be taken with a grain of salt.

She says your book is un putdown-able.

She gets it right sometimes.

Apparently, Raymond Huckabee's boss was so taken with your book, he couldn't stop reading it all throughout the day.

- Really?

- Which is why he remembers the exact time Mr.

Huckabee left work.

He only looked up only when Mr.

Huckabee said goodbye, at 5:35.

At least somebody read my book.

Wait a minute, how did Louise Cherry come to be speaking to Huckabee's boss?

She seems to have quite a bit of information.

She writes of Detective Murdoch being both suspect and sleuth.

How did she know that?

"Mr.

Ralph Fellows, a private investigator who has intimate knowledge of this case, gave me the details.

" Unbelievable.

The Huckabee's housekeeper was at the house all day until 2 o'clock.

Mr. Huckabee left work at 5:35.

He then proceeded to a restaurant, where he dined alone until 7:30.

Afterwards, he arrived home, greeting his next-door neighbour, Mrs. Hager, at approximately 8 p. m.

Miss Hart said he was k*lled between 8 and 10 o'clock.

So the contraption had to have been installed between 2 and 8 p. m.

Mrs. Hager told me she sat on her front porch between just after 6 o'clock and 8 o'clock, and saw no one matching Fellows' description.

Well, that narrows it down.

Mrs. Hager also pointed me in the direction of Mrs.

Schmidt, who was able to tell me that she was gardening between half past 4 and 6:00 o'clock and saw nothing.

Narrowing it down further.

Do you think my neighbours believe I'm guilty?

- That's of no consequence.

- It is if I have to see them every day.

Well, if they believe you to be a k*ller at least you will have your privacy.

I have an appointment with the fellow that Fellows was following.

I'll go see if he was indeed at the bawdy house between 2 o'clock and half past four on the day of the m*rder.

Fortunately, I can definitively say where I was at that time.

- Excellent.

- I was interviewing an eye witness - in the Osbourne robbery case.

It was an hour ride to his home, and we spoke for twenty minutes.

And hour ride back and I spent the rest of the day here at the Station House.

Mr.

Templeton.

Do I look like a fool to you, Detective Murdoch?

No, sir.

I was just leaving.

Why was I just accosted by a reporter, and asked why the lead suspect in the Huckabee m*rder was also the lead detective?

- Sir.

I can explain.

- I should hope so.

You remember I told you that this Ralph Fellows has a personal vendetta against me?

Yes, and you sounded paranoid.

I can prove it to you.

I just need a bit more time.

You've got six hours.

Promise me the evening edition will have a different headline.

- Murdoch - Nevermind.

As much as it pains me to admit, Ralph Fellows has done an excellent job of making me look guilty of m*rder.

These are the weapons and tools used to make the contraption.

Then he put them in your house?

He didn't just put them there, sir, he built the contraption out of items already in my home.

My screwdriver, my door hinges.

Even the springs from my automated day bed mechanism I've been cross-referencing the tools with the wounds.

There are five here, and I've matched them with wounds here, here, here, and here.

What's this one?

Looks odd.

Yes, I've not seen this particular shape before.

The w*apon must have had a short blade.

The puncture is only four inches, and there is bruising all around in a circle.

A circle with lines intersecting in a star pattern.

I know what it is.

You do?

Yes.

When Margaret heard about Higgins snow skiing, she wanted to try it.

So she made me buy all the gear.

This bruise is made by the thingy at the end of a ski pole.

Why would Ralph Fellows use a ski pole?

Because it's distinctive.

And there's only one place in Toronto that sells them.

Yes, I've got it right here.

Let's see We did sell a pair of ski poles.

I thought it was odd, being summer.

And it was you who sold them?

No, that would be my lazy son-in law.

I know the day we sold them, yeah!

Here it is.

One pair of ski poles, sold to a William Murdoch.

Sir!

That's an awfully good forgery.

As you can clearly see, that is not my signature.

They look the same to me.

If Murdoch says it's a forgery then it's a forgery.

The man most qualified to discern forgeries is also the man under suspicion of m*rder.

Tell me what you've discovered in the past six hours.

What of Fellows' alibi?

The subject of Mr. Fellows' surveillance confirmed he was outside the bawdy house at 3 o'clock on the day of the m*rder.

Therefore, so was Mr. Fellows.

Well, unless Mr. Fellows paid someone else to take photographs.

Mr. Templeton, you must believe that I'm being framed.

The man is obsessed with my downfall, all he wants is to destroy me.

I assure you that in time, we can prove that Murdoch is innocent.

Time is up.

The word is out everywhere.

It'll be my head if I don't do something.

William Murdoch, having reviewed the evidence, I must council you to retain a lawyer, and to keep silent at the risk of incriminating yourself further.

I have no choice but to remand you into custody and charge you with the m*rder of Raymond Huckabee.

This Fellows is getting the better of us.

Everywhere we turn, he's one step ahead.

He must have been planning this for months.

I've half a mind to k*ll him myself and be done with it.

Supposing Murdoch was guilty It's hardly a disloyal hypothesis, George.

He's suspected each of us of m*rder at one time or another.

There's no telling what darkness lurks in the heart of a man, Crabtree.

Sir, I know what lurks in the heart of William Murdoch, it is a passion of justice, a respect for science, and a desire to create ingenious automated machines that one day might save us from doing housework.

He has more integrity than any man I know, and he would sooner move house to Mars than k*ll a vexatious neighbour.

And you know what?

That's it.

I refuse to hear any more on the subject.

Yes.

No doubt you're exactly right, George.

But what I mean to say is that if we put our minds to examining the case against Murdoch, it will surely fall apart.

Yes?

Yes.

Right.

Surely it will.

Let us do that, then.

Mr.

Fellows!

Sources say Detective Murdoch has been arrested for the m*rder of Raymond Huckabee.

Can you comment, Mr. Fellows?

The investigation is in the capable hands of the Constabulary.

Why would Detective Murdoch k*ll his neighbour?

Well, having worked with the great Detective before, I can only assume that if Detective Murdoch committed this act, he must have been driven to it.

You're saying the victim provoked this heinous crime?

Oh, no, no, no, my dear, you must understand, men of genius are prone to obsession.

It's obvious, Detective Murdoch fell into the grip of an obsession with Mr. Huckabee, leading to tragic consequences.

Good day.

I agree with Watts.

Track my movements the night of the m*rder.

You came home from the party, drugged your wife, then snuck out to take the stabbing machine apart, then put the pieces back in your workshop.

The night staff at the hotel would have seen you leave after I fell asleep.

That would have been at approximately midnight.

Doctor, shall we interview the hotel staff?

Very good.

That leaves us with the afternoon on the day of the m*rder, when the contraption would have been installed.

Yes, I've drawn you a map to the cabin near Mount Dennis where Mr.

Smith lives.

You bicycled?

You can't miss it.

It's the first cabin past that crossing.

Mr. Smith keeps a tidy house.

He gave me a glass of cold tea.

We'll have him come in to confirm your alibi.

Then all this nonsense will be over.

Oh no, sir.

Mr. Smith doesn't come into town.

And he doesn't have a telephone.

You'll have to go there.

You must have read the map wrong, Watts.

I don't think so.

It's very clear, and this fits the directions exactly.

What the bloody hell is Murdoch playing at?

No one has been here in years.

So much for Murdoch's alibi.

Yes, I was on duty from eight in the evening until eight that morning.

And did you see Detective Murdoch at all?

I remember he came in after dinner, with the doctor.

I recall you came in with the Detective at about eleven.

You asked for warm milk and sherry to be sent up - to your room, which we promptly did.

- Yes.

And who exactly had access to our drinks?

The rest of the staff was done for the night.

So I warmed the milk and poured the sherry out myself.

Very kind of you.

Before you brought them up, were the drinks left unattended at any time?

I shouldn't think so.

Did anyone ask you to interfere with our drinks?

This is important.

If someone paid you to put something in our cups, you won't be in any trouble.

We just need to know who it was.

Joe was otherwise occupied, so I brought the tray up to your room.

The Detective asked that I leave it on the table.

I did so.

I went back out again.

I was washing up.

Did you see him leave his room at any time after that?

No.

- All right, then.

- Thank you very much.

But if he wanted to leave without anyone noticing, he would have used the staff entrance.

Excuse me, sir.

Toronto Constabulary.

What time do you load out your deliveries?

Start at midnight most nights.

So you were working here two nights ago?

Yes, that's right.

Did you see anyone come out of the hotel after about midnight that night?

The night porter came out for a cigarette around then.

And that's all?

Nobody else?

Yeah.

Sure.

There was one other fellow I didn't recognize from the hotel.

Could you describe him for us?

Dark-haired fellow.

Nice Homberg hat.

Oh for heaven's sake!

The baker saw me in the alley outside the hotel?

William, why would you wear your own hat to commit a m*rder?

Well, I wouldn't I didn't.

Well, clearly it was an imposter with an imposter hat, and it was all part of the plot to entrap you.

Speaking of How did you come to interview Mr.

Smith in the Osbourne case?

I received a tip.

I suppose it could have been Ralph Fellows.

Sir, what I don't understand is if Mr.

Smith was at that cabin just two days ago with a stew on the stove and flowers on the porch, how could the place look completely abandoned two days later?

The place was covered in cobwebs, Murdoch.

Spiderwebs can be spun in a day.

And dust everywhere.

- I took a sample.

- Oh, very good.

Grains are very fine, completely uniform.

All of them less than 0.

1 microns.

Clay would be my guess.

From pottery perhaps.

This is absurd.

Spiders.

Clay.

Pottery.

Nobody is going to believe this.

Oh, Butch.

What did you find out about Goldie Huckabee?

Other than she is a liar and a thief.

Because of the pelican?

They didn't say anything about a pelican in Kingston.

What did you find?

Is there any reason to believe she's a homicidal maniac?

Station House Four owes you a sincere apology, Mr. Fellows.

Let's have a drink.

I look forward to hearing it, Inspector.

Pray, continue.

We no longer believe that you had anything to do with Raymond Huckabee's m*rder.

It takes a big man to admit when he's wrong, and I respect you the more for it.

Yes, we were very wrong about you, Mr. Fellows, and I do regret it.

Take a seat.

To think you arranged an entire frame job on Detective Murdoch.

Fantastical.

When, if anything, you were a patsy in the whole affair.

Well, now your apology is blundering somewhat.

You see, we have reason to believe that your client, Goldie Huckabee, was using you in a plot of her own.

- Mrs.

Huckabee?

- It seems she moved to Toronto this year - to flee suspicion in a double m*rder.

- What?

And we've been able to deduce that clay dust was planted to obscure Murdoch's alibi, and it came from a potter located near the house where Mrs.

Huckabee was staying last week.

Well, I I find this difficult to understand.

Goldie Huckabee is the criminal mastermind we've been looking for all along.

And it seems all of us, you included sir, have been played for dupes.

Bottoms up.

You wouldn't guess it to look at her, would you?

No.

No, indeed not.

Women are wily creatures.

Surely you are not pursuing a theory that Mrs.

Huckabee m*rder*d her husband with a custom-made m*rder machine, - and then framed Detective Murdoch?

- As you know, spouses are often to blame in these cases.

Now I would love to see any notes you may have on your meetings with Goldie Huckabee, Mr. Fellows.

- One lawman to another of course.

- Certainly.

Inspector.

We found the sedative used to drug Dr. Ogden.

It was in Mrs. Huckabee's suitcase.

Excellent work, Detective Watts.

I can see the noose tightening around her neck as we speak.

Yes.

The only thing missing is the spring mechanism for that dastardly machine.

She must have kept them for some reason.

- But where?

- Where indeed.

Where?

George, look!

I suppose Mr.

Spencer didn't get the news.

The rest of my books are destined to be pulped.

He said he sold ten copies today and phoned to the publisher for more.

Really?

Effie, maybe my book won't be a failure.

Maybe all it needed was to be mentioned in the newspaper.

George, everyone's read Miss Cherry's article about Detective Murdoch murdering that man.

Your book will be a sensation!

That would be wonderful, but Effie, you know Detective Murdoch didn't m*rder that man, right?

- And you filed the report?

- Not As you requested, Inspector.

I believe you'll find all of my meetings with Mrs. Huckabee accounted for in my case notes.

Thank you, Mr. Fellows.

That's very sporting of you.

I only want to see justice served.

Inspector.

I have good news.

- I tracked down Detective Murdoch's alibi witness.

- Really?

I would have thought that fellow - would be in a shallow grave by now.

- Indeed.

It is fortunate that is not the case.

He was spending time with relatives.

And he has quite a story.

Mr. Smith, if you don't mind, tell the Inspector what you told me.

Firstly, let me assuage any fear you may hold as to my character.

I am but a humble philosopher.

Oh.

Is that so.

What can you tell us regarding your whereabouts?

Last week, a woman approached me to ask that I speak with a policeman on a designated day, and then abandon my hermitage.

What explanation did she offer for this request?

No explanation, sir.

Only a purse which, given how little philosophy is valued, was most welcome.

- Mr.

Smith, do you recall the woman's name?

- Indeed.

It was Mrs.

Goldie Huckabee.

- No.

- Do you recognize Mrs.

Huckabee among these women?

This.

This is the selfsame lady.

Surely this is not credible.

Excellent work, Crabtree.

I think you just saved Detective Murdoch from the noose.

I'll go and tell Crown Attorney Templeton the news straight away.

He'll definitely want to hear this.

Thank you for meeting me, Miss Cherry.

You said you have information about the Huckabee investigation.

I'm afraid I have reason to believe Station House Four is fabricating evidence for the purpose of framing Goldie Huckabee for her husband's m*rder.

- That's a very serious allegation.

- That's a very serious crime.

I suppose I wouldn't put it past Detective Murdoch's friends to try to frame an innocent woman, if it meant saving him.

Loyalty run amok.

So you'll write about it?

Corruption at the most storied Station House in Toronto?

It would be the exclusive of the year.

- But what proof do you have?

- The evidence against Mrs.

Huckabee is so far circumstantial.

If you look into it, you'll discover how easily it was faked up.

That doesn't seem too sensational Don't worry.

Now that I know the truth, I will be able to shake the trees.

Something will fall out.

Constable Crabtree.

Detective Murdoch languishes in a jail cell.

Detective Murdoch is innocent, and we will prove it.

How far would you go to protect your close friend from the noose?

Watch what you imply, Miss Cherry.

I warn you.

There are libel laws in this country.

It's not libel if there is proof.

Yes.

Well, I'll have you know, our proof implicates Mrs.

Huckabee.

"Our proof.

" Don't you find it inappropriate that Station House Four is investigating a case with its own detective at the center?

I'm warning you, Miss Cherry, don't interfere Let me warn you, Constable.

Once the full light of my journalistic inquiry shines on this case, Crown Attorney Templeton will send an unbiased team - to do a full search of the Murdoch home.

- Unbiased?

You've never liked William Murdoch.

I am acting as an objective observer.

It's also my understanding that a crucial piece of the murderous contraption is still missing.

Yes, well I don't mind telling you that it's true that we searched the Detective's home for it and did not find it.

Or perhaps you didn't want to find it.

Well, Mr.

Fellows.

It seems you can come and go from my home with ease.

And look at that, you've found the elusive springs.

Almost as if you knew exactly where to look.

Planning to move them somewhere more likely to be discovered, were you?

I must thank Miss Cherry for her help.

You needn't all be so smug.

Have you forgotten I have an alibi for the afternoon of the m*rder?

I looked into that further.

The man in your photographs told me he goes to the same bordello at the same time every week.

You took the pictures a week earlier.

It's not over yet.

I could just say you've set me up.

It's clear who set all of this up, Mr. Fellows.

How did you come to decide on Mr. Huckabee as your victim?

I'd been watching you, listening to your conversations.

I knew you didn't like them.

I was going to make you a m*rder*r, Mr. Huckabee would become the victim.

Listening to us?

You we were inside our home?

You broke into their house as well as the Huckabees'.

I manipulated Goldie Huckabee to hire me as their private detective.

Then I burst your water main.

Once you had decamped to the hotel, I had free access to your house as well as theirs.

You were in our hotel room, as well, - you drugged my wife.

- I drugged you both on the night of the m*rder.

Then I switched your cup for a clean cup when I was returning to collect the incriminating cufflink.

All of this just to see Detective Murdoch hang?

No.

To prove he is not the smartest man in the world.

That I am your peer!

You see?

I can go toe-to-toe with you and win!

It was the pinnacle of my life's work.

A brilliant scheme.

Every detail worked out.

Admit it, Murdoch: There were times when even you doubted your own innocence.

We caught you.

Well, not everything went according to plan.

I did not expect to get caught.

But at least that dolt Goldie Huckabee won't get any credit.

She never would have.

The case against her was only ever for your benefit, Mr. Fellows.

Blasted worms!

Admit it, Murdoch.

I almost had you.

I am your peer.

And I can give credit where credit is due.

You came up with a plan to catch me, and it worked.

Oh, actually that wasn't my plan.

No, you see, that idea came from George Crabtree.

Yes, it seems even my constable has outwitted you.

Now that you're going to hang for this m*rder, will you admit to committing the multiple murders last year?

Those were quite ingenious.

How does it feel to have crimes modelled after your own book go unsolved?

We both know who did it.

Whatever do you mean?

Unfortunately, because of our work, Detective Murdoch and I attract some very unstable people.

We feel truly terrible that your husband became one of their victims.

If there's anything at all we can do, Goldie, please don't hesitate to ask.

Your husband is a homicidal lunatic.

I'm sure he called in favours to get out of trouble, but I know he k*lled my husband.

And you, you have some nerve.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

- Don't come back here again.

- As you wish.

Could I get my pelican back though?

Gentlemen, lady, I give you all George Crabtree, author of the smash hit literary novel, "A Man Alone.

" Which the Globe book reviewer this morning called, "The deeply moving and skillfully wrought story of a man in search of love in the modern world.

" To George!

Thank you!

Thank you very much!

I couldn't have done it without you all.

Now that audiences have discovered George's book, a second print run is underway.

And the publisher wants George to go on a book tour.

Across the country, Halifax to Vancouver.

Well, let's hope you're still standing at the end of it.

- Well, you will come back to us, won't you, George?

- Oh, yes, of course.

Uh, the tour is only a month.

Besides, I shudder to think what you would all do without me.

Could I have an autograph?

- Oh, of course.

- It's not for me.

Oh.