01x10 - Child's Play

[bunniefuu]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Glass tinkling ]

Ladies.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Each year, more than 1,400 children are rescued from England's most impoverished neighborhoods.

They are brought here to Canada and given a second chance at life.

Baker House has made great strides in ensuring placement for these young waifs.

And now it is time for us to play a part.

With your contributions tonight --

And I daresay a sizable donation from you, eh, Howard?

[ Laughter ]

With your contributions tonight, I believe that the future of these children will be significantly brighter.

Hear, hear.

[ Applause ]

Of course, none of this would be possible if not for the director of Baker House, Mr. Calvin Baker.

This is as much a party as it is a fund-raiser, so everyone drink, enjoy, and give generously, yes?

And now it is time for us to say our good nights.

We only just got here, Father. I'm afraid I still have some work to finish up at the office.

Work, work, work. Doesn't our Howard ever play?

But, Mr. Watt, we've been here for over an hour.

A whole hour. Why, that's a record, isn't it?

Excuse me a moment.

Ah. Flora, allow me.

Thank you.

[ Indistinct conversation ]

Come, come, the carriage awaits.

[ Horses neighing ]

Who's there?

Whoever you are, show yourself.

What are you doing here?

So, they're just like field glasses?

Yes, except you can look around and over objects. Here.

What do you call it? I call it a circumscope.

"Circum" from the Latin "around" and "scope" from the Greek "to look. "

Didn't the inspector say something about losing his opera glasses last week?

Did he?

There'll be a blowup if he doesn't find them soon. I'm sure he'll recover them in due time.

Perhaps next Tuesday or Wednesday.

I magine the uses for surveillance, George.

Yes, surveillance.

Yes, I can definitely see how these will be useful.

Sir!

Whoa!

Constable.

Dr. Ogden needs you immediately.

Dr. Ogden.

What have we?

Our victim's name is Howard Rookwood.

The philanthropist.

And proprietor of this glue factory. It appears as though Mr. Rookwood fell and was trampled by horses. If so, then why call for me?

I said, " It appears. "

You believe otherwise?

The cause of death was this blow to the back of the head.

You don't think it was caused by horses' hooves?

No.

I think it was caused by something with a flat, hard surface.

So, the k*ller struck Mr. Rookwood dead, and then what?

Thought it would seem as though he had been trampled to death by horses?

That's how it appears to me. It's such a shame.

He did so much good for the community.

Obviously, someone thought otherwise.

MAN: Nothing to see. Come on. Watch out.

No wallet, watch, or cuff links were found on the victim's person.

Robbery gone wrong?

Possibly. I've marked all the footprints in the area as you asked, sir.

Good. Take castings of all of the prints, George, and compare them to anyone who had access to or were in the corral.

One of the sets may belong to our k*ller.

Sir.

George.

What happened to the horses?

They've been processed by now, sir.

Processed?

They were on their way to the rendering vats when the body was found.

Of course.

Back off!

Howard Rookwood is -- was one of my oldest friends.

And business partner, correct?

Going on 20 years now.

Two fraternity brothers who wanted to conquer the world.

Of course, we didn't know it would be the world of adhesives.

When was the last time you saw Mr. Rookwood?

Last night.

Calvin Baker had one of his fund-raisers.

Calvin Baker. The Baker House for Girls?

Correct.

Did anything unusual happen at this event?

Not that I recall.

Wait. There was one odd thing.

Howard and I had words?

That's a bit of an overstatement, isn't it?

Even still, what was the argument about, Mr. Baker?

Howard wanted to change the architectural drawings of the dormitory wing.

Again.

And that didn't sit well with you, I take it.

He was such a perfectionist, and it was so last-minute.

Of course, we'll adhere to his wishes now.

In fact, we'll be naming the wing after him.

In memoriam?

He deserved it.

He was a self-made man.

I think it helped him to see the potential in the children.

Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to harm Mr. Rookwood?

My dear man, you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who'd even speak ill of him.

Had there been any troubling circumstances in his life lately?

Well, I understand there was some uncomfortable business at the house.

FLORA: She's doing so well.

Trying to be brave. I'm very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Rookwood. It's all just very difficult to comprehend.

Do you mind?

No.

Mr. Baker suggested that there had been some trouble at the house.

A manservant, I believe.

He must be referring to Mr. Gorman.

MURDOCH: Gorman?

Miles Gorman.

He was Howard's valet.

He was very uppity, if you ask me.

And he was let go?

FLORA: Yes. It started about six months ago.

Small things began to go missing.

Silverware, vases, that sort of thing.

I suspected Mr. Gorman and asked Howard to relieve him of his duties.

And how did Mr. Gorman take that?

In a word, sir, poorly. I'm very sorry about your father, miss.

He really is gone, isn't he?

I can assure you, I will find out who did this.

I have also lost people very close to me.

You can only say goodbye when you're ready.

Sir.

I believe I have found the m*rder w*apon.

Excellent, George.

Have you dusted it for fingermarks?

I did, but they're too smudged to be of use.

Where was it?

In an alley by the glue factory.

This has got to be blood.

MURDOCH: Yes, it's blood, all right.

There's also some hair on it.

George, I need you to locate Mr. Rookwood's former valet, a Miles Gorman.

Miles Gorman, right away.

Oh, and how are the shoeprints coming along at the stables?

Oh, Higgins is on it.

He's having a bit of trouble.

MURDOCH: Right.

Tell him I'll be by to help shortly.

But, first, I have to make a brief stop.

CRABTREE: Sir.

OGDEN: The back of the shovel is consistent with the wound.

But given the size and the shape of the fractured area, it suggests the blow came from an overhead swing.

How tall is Rookwood?

6'1". If he was hit from behind with an overhead swing, then why is the wound so low on the back of the head?

And not closer to the crown.

I was wondering the same thing.

The angle still needs to be lower.

Perfect.

That matches Mr. Rookwood's wound exactly.

Now, don't move.

Quickly, please.

Don't tell me those cycling legs of yours can't hold up. I'm simply anxious to learn our k*ller's height.

Otherwise, I could maintain this position for hours.

Right. Perhaps hours is a bit of a stretch.

64 inches.

5'4".

So, our k*ller is very short.

I ndeed.

Constable Higgins, how are the shoe impressions coming along?

Honestly, sir, the soil just crumbles as soon as the plaster hits. I've ruined three shoe impressions already.

Uh, only left ones. The others are all still intact.

Right. Let me show you.

Notice how the heel is deeper than the toe.

Someone with a limp, perhaps.

Except we have four similar unaccounted sets.

Four?

And now consider that the death blow was struck by someone short.

Obviously, you have a theory. So, come on, out with it.

Sir, I believe children were involved.

Children? But this is an adult shoe.

Yes, but sometimes street children wear hand-me-down shoes that are too big for them and stuff rags in the toes to make them fit.

Hence much more weight in the heel.

And we also found a child-size boot impression.

Do you have any idea who these kids are?

No.

However, I did see some children working at the glue factory.

Little buggers, like a bloody epidemic. I'll round them up.

CHARLl E: So, I knocked him on his rear end.

[ Laughter ]

Gentlemen. I'm Detective Murdoch.

This is Constable Crabtree.

We'd like to ask you a few questions.

You boys work here at the factory?

A man was m*rder*d here last night.

Did any of you see anything?

Go near the body maybe?

Anything you could tell us would be helpful, lads.

We weren't there, sir.

[ Laughter ]

That's interesting.

Because we have proof that your shoes were.

How do you suppose they got there without you in them?

Run!

Oi! Here!

Come here, you little brat.

Ow! Jesus!

MURDOCH: I lost them, George.

CRABTREE: They gave me the slip as well, sir.

I fear our k*ller may have gotten away.

I fear he may have done so on your bicycle, sir.

Oh, for the love of --

Lord's name, sir.

Yes, George, thank you.

BRACKENREID: Let me get this straight.

You found the suspects, you couldn't get them to talk, they wounded a constable, nicked a detective's bicycle, and then got away on it?

Yes, sir.

A stellar performance.

I believe I can identify the ringleader.

BRACKENREID: Well, that's a start.

Any other riveting insights?

Yes, he had an accent. British.

Home children.

Most likely.

Not surprising.

Probably trash off the streets of East London.

What makes you say that?

Have you ever been to the East End of London, Murdoch?

No, I haven't. It's a filthy, dirty place full of criminals and derelicts who do nothing but drink and breed.

Well, then, sir, I thank God for places like the Barnardo Homes and Baker Houses for rescuing children from such places.

And sending them to Canada, where we have to look after 'em. Is that the little toe rag?

You can see the glint of trouble in his eye.

Sir, the cards are without expression.

Oh, it's there, Murdoch. Look close.

WATT: Sorry, Detective, I don't know who this is. I'm afraid they all look the same to me.

But this boy claims to have worked here.

That may well be, but it was Howard who dealt with them.

I don't suppose you have any employment records?

He paid them in cash.

Enough to put something in their stomachs.

Do you think this boy was involved with Howard's death? It's very likely.

Those little bastards.

After everything he did for them.

Do you have any idea where I might be able to find these boys?

All I can think of is you might speak to Calvin Baker.

What does Mr. Baker have to do with this?

His home only accommodates girls.

Baker House also has a home for boys. It's in Peterborough.

Now, if there's nothing else...

Actually, there is.

We believe this boy may be involved in Mr. Rookwood's m*rder.

Do you recognize him?

No, sorry.

You barely looked at it.

So many children come through our doors, Detective.

And I'm in the middle of organizing another important fund-raiser.

Well, I'm terribly sorry if Mr. Rookwood's m*rder investigation is upsetting your schedule. I'm sorry. I'll ask my staff.

Perhaps they'll remember him. May I keep this?

Of course.

Good day, sir.

Miles Gorman's address.

Well done, George.

Mr. Gorman. Toronto Police.

A word, please.

Oi, Gorman. Open up.

[ Clinking ]

[ Thudding ]

He appears not to be home.

I guess not, sir.

[ Lock rattling ]

Mr. Gorman, a word.

[ Coughing ]

It's positively rank in here. I'm sure you'll be fine. I'm sure I'll catch glanders or head lice or some such thing.

You'll catch much worse if I throw you in the drunk t*nk for not cooperating.

Your former employer, Howard Rookwood, was m*rder*d.

Terrible shame.

Where were you the night of the m*rder?

I attended "The Mikado" at the opera, and then I took a spot of ginger beer at the Rossin House.

Such an extravagant lifestyle for an unemployed valet.

I save a few pennies here and there for some of the finer things in life.

You were Mr. Rookwood's valet for four years?

And I must say a superior one.

And what constitutes superior in the world of valets?

A skilled valet is always at his employer's service, conducting himself with civility, morality, and decency.

And which were you lacking?

I beg your pardon?

When Mr. Rookwood fired you for theft, which were you lacking?

Civility, morality, or decency?

Those accusations were false. ltems of value did go missing from the home?

Yes.

How do you explain that?

There was a boy loitering about.

A boy?

I caught glimpses of him near the house, but he vanished before I could catch him. Is this the boy?

So, we're back to the boy, are we?

So it would seem.

Gorman's shoes don't match any of the ones at the crime scene.

However, he could simply have disposed of them.

But he spotted the boy loitering outside the victim's home.

From a place where he was let go for theft.

Hardly an impartial witness.

Suspected theft.

Gorman could be innocent in all of this.

Yes, but how does a child go from theft to m*rder?

I already told you.

Kids like this, it's in their blood. I can't believe that.

Take my word for it.

Now, what you need to do is go back to Rookwood House and see if anyone else saw this lad hanging around.

MAN: Whoa!

Thank you.

MAN: Hyah!

And you say this boy was seen near the house?

Yes, Mr. Gorman claims to have recognized him from this picture.

Hardly a reliable witness.

Nonetheless, do you recognize him?

Why, that's Charlie. I'm sure of it.

Eva? It is.

Who's Charlie?

Charlie Dunlap.

He's my brother, sir.

He looks older.

Do you think he had something to do with Howard's death?

Possibly.

We also think he may be involved in the robberies here at the home.

There must be some mistake. It can't be Charlie.

Why not? It just can't be!

Eva.

Mrs. Rookwood.

I have to see to her.

Just a few more questions, please.

Clearly, Charlie's not your son, yet he's Eva's brother?

Eva's adopted.

Her real name is Polly Dunlap. If her name is Polly, why do you call her Eva?

She's named after our first daughter.

Your first daughter?

She d*ed in an accident two years ago. I'm sorry.

I was very lonely afterwards.

Howard suggested a lady's maid.

So you took in Polly?

Yes.

From Baker House.

We hired her. We got close.

Eventually, we adopted her.

And Charlie? I've only seen him in pictures.

So, you know nothing about him? I'm sorry. Eva almost never spoke of him.

I suppose I was trying to forget about him. It was easier than worrying about what might have happened.

When was the last time you saw Charlie?

After Father d*ed, Mother felt she couldn't provide for us.

So she took Charlie and me to the Baker House people.

In London.

They have a home there where you stay and a school where they make sure you can read and write.

And when you were ready, you were sent here?

They gave us a trunk for the trip.

In it was everything they thought we'd need.

In mine was a dress, a dolly, and a Bible.

MURDOCH: Then you were put on the boat?

Charlie and I had never seen a boat, let alone been on one.

None of the children had.

We were all so sick from the waves.

But then we got used to it.

Things got better.

We saw dolphins and whales and icebergs.

The Lord's wonders.

Yes. It was so different than home.

So bright and sunny. It all seemed so grand.

But then something happened.

After the boat docked in Quebec City, we were put on a train to Cobourg.

We didn't know anyone.

We missed Mother so.

I was holding Charlie's hand when we were pulled apart.

And you came here to Toronto, and he went on to Peterborough.

No one told us we'd be separated.

We didn't even get to say goodbye.

And you haven't seen him since?

No. If Charlie was here, why wouldn't he come see me?

What do you have for me, George?

Charlie Dunlap stayed at the Baker House for Boys in Peterborough for about eight months.

He was placed with a family, but vanished about six months ago.

Roughly when the robberies started to occur at the Rookwood home.

Now, by my way of thinking, that's far too coincidental.

Wouldn't you agree, sir?

[ Horses neighing, hooves clopping ]

George, we'll need to return to the scene of the crime.

We will?

Yes.

And we'll need the shoeprint impression kit again.

Sir, we've taken casts of all the prints.

Not all of them.

BRACKENREID: A hoofprint? And this proves what?

That there were horses at a glue factory?

Wearing horseshoes, sir.

Horseshoes.

Why would anyone waste a perfectly good horseshoe on a nag?

Exactly. And if that's the case, what were healthy horses doing there?

Stolen. All right, I see your point.

Something's going on at the glue factory.

But what's it got to do with this case?

That's what I intend to find out.

Several shoed horses were sent to your rendering vats.

Obviously, there's been a mistake.

Why would a glue factory be slaughtering perfectly healthy animals? Is it because you were buying stolen ones for virtually nothing?

Absolutely not.

Tell me, did you steal them yourself, or did you engage others to steal them for you?

Perhaps street children.

I think this meeting is over, sir, unless I'm under arrest.

No.

But consider this.

Last year, a man in Wyoming was caught stealing horses.

The courts would have given him jail time, but, sadly, his neighbors got to him first. It was Howard's idea to use the children.

The boy. Where do I find him?

I don't know.

As I told you, it was Howard who dealt with them.

I never thought it would end like this.

Never.

CRABTREE: Inspector, I believe I've come up with a plan of att*ck.

BRACKENREID: Have you now?

Ah, your protégé's been thinking again, Murdoch. It's dangerous.

There have been 16 reported horse thefts in the last five months.

All of which have taken place within a 2-mile radius of the glue factory.

Now, the first question is "When do they strike?"

Every 10th night.

Tonight is the 10th night.

The second question, obviously, is "Where?"

Now, there are only two barns.

Two what?

Barns.

Barns.

Oh, barns, yeah.

Two stables within this target area that have not yet been hit.

Right here and here.

Now, I propose we stake out these two locations.

Wait for the perpetrators to strike.

Let me get this straight.

You're suggesting we stake out a location where something might happen?

Yes.

Brilliant.

George, perhaps we should work from what we already know.

Such as?

Well, we know for certain where the stolen horses will end up, don't we?

The glue factory.

BRACKENREID: Yes.

That's good work anyway, George.

BRACKENREID: Good work?

You're going to turn him into another bloody Murdoch.

Bloody hell, this thing's heavy.

Mm-hmm.

Sir, may I ask you a question?

What?

From the beginning of this investigation, you've been singularly hard on these children.

No, I haven't.

Yes, sir, you have.

You've assumed their guilt right from the start.

These children are given every chance in the world and look what they do with it.

They live in abject poverty.

They're torn from their parents, shipped to another country.

What about the kids who aren't quite poor enough?

Whose parents work themselves into an early grave?

What do they do?

I don't know.

They pack school in after 3 years and start work to support four brothers, that's what they do.

Aye, aye.

What have we got here?

MURDOCH: That's Charlie.

You nick Charlie, and I'll grab the others.

And don't let him get away this time.

CHARLl E: What did you bring me?

Charlie.

[ Whispering ]

BRACKENREID: Well?

I compared the boy's shoes to the castings we took.

They match.

So he was at the crime scene.

And his sister lied to you about not knowing where her brother was.

Clearly, they were robbing the family home.

But why m*rder Mr. Rookwood?

That's what we're about to find out.

This little toe rag's about to get an eye-opening.

I want to speak with my sister, sir.

"Sir. "
You have to talk to me first.

Start with Rookwood. Did you k*ll him?

No, sir.

Your footprints were found all around his body.

Funny that. How'd they get there? By magic? I don't know.

Well, how about this, then?

You went to rob him, smacked him on the back of the head.

He d*ed. You ran.

That's not how it happened!

Then how did it?

The lads and me was bringing a horse back.

Rookwood was lying there.

We thought he was passed out drunk, so we rolled him.

Was your sister involved?

No.

Really? Because we know you're a little tea leaf.

And, clearly, it runs in the family.

You take that back!

Or what?

Or I'll take a round out of you.

Oh, will you, now?

Sir.

[ Clears throat ]

Take a seat.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

How did you get out of your placement?

I was sent to this farm.

They made me work until my hands bled.

They wouldn't let me eat with their children and made me sleep in the barn.

So one day, I just left to find Polly.

How did you find her?

I knew she was in Toronto, so I made my way here.

But I didn't know where to look. It's a big city.

Then what did you do?

I heard about this factory where lads like me could make an honest buck.

And a dishonest one.

They thought the horses up, not me.

Right, then.

So, you were working in the factory.

One day, a carriage rolls up and, through the window, I see Polly, only she's all swank.

So I followed her home.

You must have been surprised to see her in all that fancy setup.

I was happy for her, sir, but I was hungry.

She started to bring me food from the house.

And then you wanted more, maybe? You got greedy.

Got her to steal stuff from the house.

That's not true!

Charlie, I'm sure that you are not bad, and I don't think your sister Polly is either.

But a man did get fired because of you.

I know it's wrong, but we needed the money.

So Polly took little things from the house and gave them to me to pawn.

Your sister wanted for nothing. Why would she need money?

We were planning to run away.

From all that luxury?

I needed to get her out of that house, away from him.

From who?

Mr. Rookwood.

He was hurting her.

Was he b*ating her?

No.

Not like that.

You have to tell me the truth, Polly.

Because it's not looking good for your brother.

We think he k*lled your father.

That man wasn't my father.

My father is dead and buried.

And your father never would have done what Mr. Rookwood did to you.

No.

He wouldn't have.

What happened, Polly?

At first, it was just the way he looked at me.

And then it got worse.

He came into my room one night.

Polly, if I was your brother, I would have k*lled him.

Charlie wanted to, only I wouldn't let him.

And Charlie would never do anything against my wishes.

You have to believe me.

How could the mother let that go on?

Maybe she didn't know.

She couldn't have been that naive.

Perhaps she was too frightened to do anything.

She could have been in on it.

Or maybe she just didn't do anything.

I hope neither is the case.

And the first daughter?

You can't tell me he wasn't all over her as well.

What, in God's name, was going on in that house?

Your tea, ma'am.

Eva.

My darling. Are you all right?

Eva?

What's wrong?

Did they do something to you? I'd like to go to my room now.

Eva.

Please.

What did you do to her?

Nothing, I can assure you.

How dare you treat my daughter like a common criminal?

Your daughter has been stealing from your home like a common criminal.

That's impossible. She would never --

However, theft is the least of my worries at this point.

What are you talking about?

Eva has leveled very serious accusations at your husband.

What sort of accusations?

She claims he made advances on her.

That is a monstrous thing to say about my husband.

So, now your daughter is a liar as well as a thief?

How dare you?

Mrs. Rookwood...

... please tell me the truth.

Then you leave me no recourse but to find it myself.

Good evening.

Any luck, George?

I was so insistent the president of the bank himself appeared.

I believe this is what you're looking for, sir.

Yes, this is precisely what I'm looking for.

Well, cigars, steak, fine wine.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

Bank statements?

Howard Rookwood's bank statements.

Your point?

Howard Rookwood had been withdrawing $50 a month for some time.

Coincidentally, the same amount had been being deposited into your account.

You were blackmailing him, weren't you?

That's how you could afford this lavish lifestyle.

Why are you wasting my time?

You knew he had a proclivity for young girls, didn't you?

Probably starting with his own daughter, but certainly with his adopted one.

What of it?

"What of it?"

How many wealthy households do we both know where the master takes advantage of his station?

A maid, a cook, a daughter.

So you admit to blackmailing him, then?

Yes.

But let me give you a little lesson in blackmail, Detective.

You must have something truly damaging on your victim in order to make him pay.

So, Eva Rookwood.
14 years.

Cause of death?

A broken neck incurred during a fall down the stairs.

Stairs. Most convenient.

Bruising to the temporal lobe, thighs, back.

Gorman claims he suffocated her. Is there anything to support that?

There's petechial hemorrhaging.

That would be consistent with suffocation.

So, Howard Rookwood was molesting his own daughter.

He then k*lled her.

And later brought another girl into the home.

Starts all over again.

Are you suggesting that he would have k*lled Polly as well? It's a reasonable extrapolation.

Well, the k*ller certainly wasn't Mr. Gorman.

Why k*ll your blackmail victim?

And you seem to have ruled out the children.

That leaves only...

You knew what Howard was doing to Polly.

Howard doted on that child.

And what about your first daughter?

Did he dote on her as well?

I will not defile my daughter's name by talking about this.

You knew he k*lled her, didn't you?

No.

You were worried he was going to do the same thing to Polly, weren't you?

This is ridiculous.

MURDOCH: All right.

You recognize this?

You should. It was found by a constable in your garden shed.

And this is a casting taken from the scene of your husband's m*rder.

At first I thought it was a child's boot, but you have very small feet.

You were there that night.

You k*lled your husband.

The doctor said Eva's death was an accident.

But you knew something wasn't quite right.

I suspected.

And, still, you took in Polly Dunlap?

I was so distressed after Eva's death. It was Howard's idea to procure a girl. It was his idea to adopt her as well.

Everything was his idea.

What happened after the fund-raiser?

Howard took us back to the house.

He wanted to say good night to Eva before he went to work.

He told me to go to bed.

But you didn't. I'd noticed how he looked at her.

So I waited.

And I followed him.

I saw him with her.

I couldn't let him do it again.

So you followed him to the factory.

I didn't have a plan.

I just knew I had to do something.

[ Horses neighing ]

What are you doing here?

I know what's going on.

Go home, Flora.

FLORA: I saw the shovel, and the rest just seemed to make sense.

Truth be told, I never felt better in my life.

Polly.

Polly. I'm so sorry.

I should never have brought you into that house.

Please.

You have to forgive me.

You did it to protect me, didn't you?

That's what mothers do for their children.

Yes.

Yes.

That was left outside the station.

Oh, my bike.

At least, it looks like my bike.

What will happen to Polly and Charlie?

Children's Aid will look after their immediate futures.

What about Mrs. Rookwood?

I believe the courts will see she acted in her daughter's interests. I'll testify to that effect, if needed.

You've softened your position. I'm not made of stone, Murdoch. It just makes you wonder how many kids are in the same boat. It sickens me to think of it.

Well, then, grab your hat and let's go.

Where?

To see if two coppers can make a difference.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

James.

How do you do?

Pleasure. Henry, nice to see you again.

Hello, Rita. How are the children?

Very good.

Good.

Rodney.

Detective Murdoch.

And...

Inspector Brackenreid.

I heard about Flora. I couldn't believe it.

What about the Dunlap children?

I would have thought their well-being would have been utmost in your mind.

Well, of course, it is, but --

Mr. Baker, do you ever follow up with the children once they're sent to their placements?

We can't be everywhere, Detective.

That's not much of an answer, sir.

You've got a nice, swanky setup here, real moneymaker.

Suppose these people were to find out what really happens to some of these children.

That you never actually check in on the children once they're sent to their placements.

That you just assume everything has a fairy-tale ending.

Do you think these people would continue to support Baker House if they knew?

You're threatening me?

No.

Not at all.

Think of it as an opportunity.

MURDOCH: Yes, an opportunity.

To refine your system.

BAKER: Ladies and gentlemen.

There's a matter of concern that's been brought to my attention. It involves making some important changes at Baker House.

Changes for the better, I believe.

When I started...

You keep doing things like this, sir, I might just become a bit of a Brackenreid myself.

One can only hope, Murdoch.

One can only hope.