05x09 - Invention Convention

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Murdoch Mysteries". Aired: January 2008 to present.*

Moderator: Virginia Rilee

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In the 1890s, William Murdoch uses radical forensic techniques for the time, including fingerprinting and trace evidence, to solve some of the city's most gruesome murders.
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05x09 - Invention Convention

Post by bunniefuu »

Ladies and gentlemen, the future has arrived.

No more ironing shirts on your kitchen table.

With the a*t*matic ironing board, convenience comes with the push of a button.

Automation is the future, my friends.

Not one, not two, but five cups of coffee in the great coffee distillation machine.

Ladies and gentlemen, how many hours have you wasted making you house a home?

With the paint dispenser, you can cut your home improvement in half the time.

No need to say, "Pass the gravy."

With the tabletop waiter, a flick of the wrist brings the gravy to you.

Ladies, after a hard day cleaning house, there is nothing you'll enjoy more than the vibrating chair.

Why stand up to turn on the lights?

With the wireless switch, you can turn them on or off from the comfort of your very own chair.

It is a computer in that it will perform mathematical calculations.

However, its architecture lends itself to even more complex computations.

Oh, is this a miniature version of Babbage's analytic engine?

Well, the basic idea was borrowed from Babbage, yes.

However, by using Swiss gears, I've constructed a computer four times as powerful in 1/40 the volume.

Oh, that must have been very time-consuming.

Yes, it was, but it's my belief that in the future, the machine will be assembled by automatons who are themselves operated by a device such as this.

Oh, thank you.

Mm-hmm.

This is the device for you.

Excuse me.

What is instant mail?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Ladies and gentlemen, gather around while I demonstrate to you what will surely be the most amazing device that you will see all summer.

Has your child been smoking?

Has your wife been unfaithful?

Find out with the Truthizer.

Now, this gentleman has kindly volunteered to participate in a demonstration.

Sir, do you believe your wife here to be too fat?

Um, no.

Behold.

Clearly, that answer was less than truthful.

George.

Sir, what are you doing here?

I know what you are going to say.

Before you say it, sir, I think that your invention simply must see the light of day.

They are not inventions, George.

They are simply reworkings of existing technology.

Well, be that as it may, sir, there are many investors here, and some have shown some real interest.

In fact, I think the Truthizer might win the Eaton Prize.

The Eaton Prize?

Yes, sir.

The winner has their product manufactured and sold at all the Eaton stores.

It's very prestigious.

Nevertheless, George-

Well, and, sir, also, there is someone here that you are going to want to meet.

Who?

Alexander Graham Bell.

Alexander Graham Bell is here?

He is an inventor, sir.

His name wasn't on the list.

He was a last-minute addition.

Shall I show you where his booth is?

No, no, George, not now.

I'm here to meet Karl Schreyer.

He left a message at the station to meet here.

Oh, yes, Karl Schreyer.

He invented the suction cleaner.

The days of b*ating carpets are over.

With the suction cleaner, dust and dirt and sucked into a special canister.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Mr. Schreyer.

Detective Murdoch, at last we meet.

How is it you know me?

An inventor always notices the work of another.

Clearly a mind such as yours is up to the challenge of determining who sent this.

I found it on my table this morning.

I believe it to be the work of one of my jealous competitors.

My invention is clearly going to win the Eaton Prize.

I see.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Timothy Eaton?

Thank you. Thank you.

It is my pleasure each year to announce the winner of the Eaton Prize for the most commercially promising invention.

This year, the award goes to the suction cleaner.

That's me.

Mr. Schreyer, under the circumstances, I would advise you not to go up on that stage.

No, I have worked for years for this moment.

I'm not going to be intimidated.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

Did you hear that?

That was a dog whistle.

Human ears are not capable of detecting such a pitch, but that doesn't mean the sound isn't there.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have long felt like the sound of that whistle, reverberating alone in the silence of ignorance.

Now, at long last, my genius has been heard.

Seal the exits, George.

This man has been m*rder*d.

There was no g*nsh*t?

None that was heard, sir.

Obviously, something penetrated his skull.

As to how...

Must have been someone who used one of those mufflers that silences the g*nsh*t.

How could someone use such a w*apon without being seen?

Could the sh**t have escaped?

The exits were sealed immediately.

The k*ller is still in the building.

We need to interview everyone, where they were, who they were standing with.

Yes, George is doing that now.

Sir, is your tooth sore again?

A little bit.

Perhaps you should see a dentist.

One of those medieval torturers?

I'd rather face the Inquisition.

Carry on, Murdoch.

Do you have anything for me yet, Doctor?

Well, this is strictly preliminary, of course, but I would hazard a guess that the victim d*ed of a g*nsh*t to the head.

Anything beyond the obvious?

The b*llet didn't exit, suggesting low muzzle velocity.

His eyes appear jaundiced.

I'm not sure why.

I suppose it's premature to speculate on the angle of entry.

The wound seems perfectly circular, suggesting perpendicular entry.

Which means the sh*t would have come from above.

I think you would have noticed someone hanging from the rafters.

True.

With your permission, Detective, I'd like to remove the body from the scene.

Yes, of course.

Thank you, Doctor.

Terrible thing that's happened.

Alexander Graham Bell.

Mm, yes.

Detective Murdoch, I presume.

Yes.

Yes, I recognize you from your photograph at your booth.

Please.

Actually, it's not my booth.

My constable took some liberties with-

I was particularly impressed with your apparatus for using sound reflection to visualize subsurface marine environments.

It's fascinating.

Really?

Mm-hmm.

I'd like to talk with you more about it at some point.

Oh, after you've completed your investigation, of course.

Of course.

Well, yes, certainly.

And the whistle that you have in your hand, confiscate it if you must, but I would like it back when you are finished with it.

What's so special about a dog whistle?

Oh, it has a pitching screw that enables one to adjust the frequency, very useful for some experiments I was hoping to conduct with Karl.

I see.

Were you and Mr. Schreyer friends?

Oh, not friends, no.

I don't think Karl was capable of genuine friendship with anyone.

But we certainly weren't adversaries, which makes me something of a rarity in this crowd.

Well, who were his adversaries, then?

I hated him.

I admit it freely.

Why is that, Mr. Nellie?

He ridiculed my tabletop waiter.

He told me that it was an invention worthy of a five-year-old.

But I wasn't the only one who hated him.

I saw him have a fistfight with Harding.

It wasn't exactly a fistfight.

Then how would you describe it, Mr. Harding?

Mm, a lot of arms flailing about.

Neither of us were exactly pugilists.

It was all rather pathetic, actually.

So why the dustup?

Schreyer changed the setting of one of my gears.

It threw off all my calculations.

It took me six hours to find which gear had been compromised.

Why would he do something like that?

Well, he was very competitive.

He once sabotaged Barton's a*t*matic ironing board so that it wouldn't open, and Jeremy was showing it to investors at the time.

Disconnected the internal switch.

He all but admitted it.

I would never raise a hand to hurt anyone, even Schreyer, but if wishes could k*ll, he would have been dead a long time ago.

You hated him that much?

Oh, we all did.

Sabotage was the least of it.

He was also a spy.

His prize-winning invention?

He stole the concept from O'Brien.

At last year's convention in New York, I suggested that a fan placed behind a strip of gauze could create a vacuum strong enough to lift the dirt out of a rug.

It's a million-dollar idea.

Did you tell Karl Schreyer about it?

No, but I did send mail about it to some of the other inventors, who sent back improvements.

Imail?

Instant mail. It's Myrtle Raylin's invention.

We use it to communicate back and forth between conventions.

And it's your belief that Karl Schreyer got a hold of these communications?

It got so bad, we had to start imailing each other in code.

The typeface of this imail matches that of the death thr*at.

So you think the death thr*at was printed on one of the imail machines.

I do.

Hmm.

Thank you for agreeing to do this.

Oh...

I hope you don't think me presumptuous, but as both the son and husband of deaf women, you're the only person I know who reads sign language.

Hmm.

I do it with reluctance, I'm afraid.

Oh'?

Yes, you see, it's my belief that deaf people should learn to articulate audible speech.

I've tried to get Myrtle to learn, but she's very stubborn.

Does she read lips?

Oh, yes, more than she lets on.

Instant mail is a process of sending letters instantly anywhere in the world.

How does it work?

A letter is typed.

The information is recorded onto a wire cylinder.

At the push of the "send" key, a message is sent over the telephone lines to the intended recipient.

Oh.

Um...

I believe that this message was printed using one of your machines.

Who has these machines?

She sent units to each of the inventors she was closest to.

I don't think Karl ever received one.

Why was that?

She disliked him.

Oh, she detested him.

Why?

He once declared his amorous intentions rather inappropriately.

When she rejected his advances, he became vile and abusive.

He insulted her femininity and mocked her deafness and said that instant mail wasn't really an invention at all but merely a reworking of Edison's stock ticker.

Stock ticker.

That was good, Myrtle.

You should speak more.

So that message could have been printed on any one of the machines you distributed?

Yes.

Mm-hmm.

Would there be a record of the last message sent on the machine that sent that message?

Oh, yes.

Each machine can retain up to 20 messages, depending, of course, on the length.

Oh, that's good.

Mm-hmm.

That's very good.

The b*llet struck the left, upper portion of the frontal bone roughly perpendicular to the curvature of the skull.

It then traveled in a downward trajectory and lodged inside the right temporal lobe.

So the b*llet did come from above.

That would seem to be the case.

I also managed to extract the b*llet.

You recognize this?

It's a ball bearing.

Yes, the same kind you use in your Tabletop Waiter.

Indeed, it is, nickel-plated, high-quality, imported especially from Bern, Switzerland.

You may have noticed the rotational smoothness.

Why do you ask?

It was the projectile used to k*ll Karl Schreyer.

How do you explain that, Mr. Nellie?

Well, obviously, someone is trying to cast suspicion on me.

I mean, why would someone use a ball bearing when a regular b*llet would do?

Mr. Nellie, where were you when the sh*t was fired?

I was watching the speech.

Who were you standing with?

Your constable already asked me this.

I don't remember.

You think he might have been set up?

It's possible.

His point is well-taken.

Why use a ball bearing if not to implicate him in the m*rder?

Well, I read the statements.

All the inventors seem to hate this Schreyer fellow.

Question is, which one do you think did this?

The death thr*at was sent using one of Miss Raylin's instant mailing machines.

George and Henry are reading the imails now.

Imails?

Instant mailings.

Sir, is that cocaine?

Mm, this bloody tooth.

Helps to numb the pain.

Are you sure that's wise?

Don't you start on me, Murdoch.

Sir, I have nothing against the use of cocaine as a topical analgesic, but given your history with the drug...

There you are, Thomas.

Oh, bloody hell.

I'll speak to you later, sir.

Where were you at 2:00 this afternoon?

Hello, dear.

You were supposed to be at the dentist.

I had duties to attend to, Margaret.

Thomas, don't be a baby about this.

We're trying to solve a m*rder here.

I can't be spending half my day gallivanting off to the dentist.

Well, I've made another appointment after work, and I'll be back here to escort you to it.

I can hold your hand if need be.

I'm not a child, Margaret.

After work.

Higgins.

Sir, we've printed off the imails.

They're gibberish mostly.

Yes, apparently, they were encrypted to keep Karl Schreyer from reading them.

The only exception was the death thr*at.

Which machine was this one printed on?

Mr. Bell's, sir.

Alexander Graham Bell.

I'm sorry, sir.

I know he's something of an idol.

Bring him in, George.

That message was written on your instant mail machine.

That may very well be, but if you're looking for the author of that note, I'm afraid it isn't me.

Then how did it come to be written on your machine?

Well, someone must have gone into my booth when I wasn't there.

It would have been easy.

Where were you at the time of the sh**ting?

I was recording the speech.

Recording?

Mm.

Why?

Well, Karl had asked me to... provided he'd won, of course.

You mean you have a recording of the speech and the moment he was sh*t?

Mm.

Would you like to hear it?

Karl wanted a permanent record of the moment when he bested the competition.

He was vainglorious.

As much as he was detested by others, he had a very high opinion of himself.

If he was so disagreeable, why agree to make the recording?

Well, he agreed to blow the dog whistle, and I wanted to test the frequency limits of my recorder.

Why not simply conduct a controlled experiment?

Well, he refused to relinquish possession.

But I thought it was your whistle.

Yes, I had one just like it, and I lost it about the same time he came into possession of his.

You think he stole it.

You're the detective, Detective.

I find it hard to believe that someone could be that petty.

Oh, I think I understand.

You know how some men are born with natural charm?

You just can't help but like them.

Of course.

Well, Karl had negative charm.

No matter what he did, people didn't like him.

Rejection can make a man bitter, which in turn makes him even more disliked.

A vicious circle.

Mm, yes.

Let's have a listen.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have long felt like the sound of that whistle, reverberating alone in the silence of ignorance.

Now, at long last, my genius has been heard.

I can't make out anything definitive.

I only hear the sound of the crowd.

You know, Detective, to paraphrase Karl, just because we can't hear a sound doesn't mean it's not there.

Allow me to introduce you to my latest invention.

I call it an audiograph.

I developed it to help deaf people visualize the sounds that they were making.

You see, it converts sound into a signal and then traces the wave on paper much like your graphizer.

Well, yes, but the difference is, you've isolated certain frequencies.

Oh, well, yes.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have long felt like the sound of that whistle, reverberating alone in the silence of ignorance.

Now, at long last, my genius has been heard.

So his speech lasted 18 seconds.

And here is where the noise of the crowd rises sharply in reaction to his death about two seconds later.

So the b*llet would have been fired between here and here.

Mmhmm. Well, this is interesting.

Look how the amplitude of the highest frequency spikes at the precise moment that he was sh*t.

Yes, it raises sharply and then falls off.

Like a bell ringing, as if the b*llet hit something metallic.

Well, if it did and that's what I think it is, it would explain why we saw nothing in the rafters.

The b*llet was deflected.

A bit higher, Constable.

Higher.

There.

So the metal surface that we directed the projectile was that steel beam.

It has to be.

Now all we have to do is match the angle of incidence to the angle of reflection.

Sir, have you noticed anything different about the inspector of late?

He has a toothache?

Well, yes, I know about the tooth, but it's more his behavior I'm worried about.

One minute, he's edgy, cantankerous, and then the next minute, he's full of backslapping bon ami.

It's almost like-do you remember a couple of years back he was taking that gold cure?

Yes, it turned out to be cocaine.

Well, now he's rubbing cocaine on his gums as an analgesic for his tooth.

I'm afraid that he's gonna have... what do they call it?

A relapse.

I share your concern, George, but he's seeing a dentist today.

Hopefully the situation will be rectified.

Hmm.

Oh, that's odd.

The sh**t would have had to have been standing much further back.

But, sir, if he was standing farther back, this sign would have been in his way.

Indeed.

Unless, of course, the sh**t was standing in front of the sign... if he was tall... extremely tall.

I suppose we would have noticed a giant with a w*apon in the back of the room.

There's another possibility, George.

I'm going to need a wrench.

Do what you have to do, Doc.

Let's get this over with.

Oh, good for you, Thomas.

My apologies for interrupting.

It's Detective Murdoch, sir. He needs you right away.

Bloody hell.

Can't this wait?

He was quite insistent, sir.

Oh, sorry, Doc.

We'll have to do this another time.

Margaret, schedule another appointment.

What's the panic this time, Higgins?

So how was that, sir?

Perfect, bloody perfect.

Cracking fine job, Higgins.

Thank you, sir.

Can I treat you to a pint?

Yes, sir.

George Crabtree?

Yes. What can I do for you?

I want that Truthizer you've invented.

Well, now, I didn't exactly invent it.

So you don't hold the patent?

It's pending.

Well, what would it take to buy it from you, then?

I suppose I would have to speak with my partner.

Well, why don't you let me talk to him?

No, no, no, no, it's best if you speak with me.

I'm the people person.

He's-he's a temperamental sort.

My offer to come to terms with you is only available for 24 hours.

Only 24 hours?

I don't sit around waiting for money to come to me, Mr. Crabtree.

I go after it.

Uh, sir, good news.

We have an investor interested in the Truthizer.

George, all the Truthizer does is measure an increase in heart rate.

It's only value is in telling the liar that we know they're lying.

Which is exactly what makes it such an essential tool for law enforcement.

George-

Sir, why should we be the only station to have such an instrument?

I believe it is our responsibility to put it out into the world.

Criminals everywhere will be quaking in their boots if they know we could look into their guilty minds, not to mention what a profit we could make from such a venture.

Fine, George.

I authorize you to speak to an investor on our behalf.

Oh, excellent, sir.

I am very excited.
Mm.

What is it?

I have no idea.

This is a battery.

There are wires leading to a switch of some sort, but then this appears to be a switch as well.

I'm going to bypass these switches to see if I can figure out-

I believe we've found our m*rder w*apon, George.

So this thing fired a ball, which was then redirected by a chunk of metal towards Schreyer's head.

Hence the need for a projectile with complete angular uniformity.

A ball bearing.

Yes.

Well, just say that then.

Why do you always dress up simple concepts in $5 words?

Did the doctor yank your tooth?

No, he couldn't.

An emergency intervened.

No worries.

It will clear itself up eventually.

So this ball bearing fellow Nellie, is he our man then?

It's possible.

Sir, have a look at this.

Note the similarities between the device and this invention.

Who built that then?

Jeremy Barton.

Well, bring him.

Well, not so fast, sir.

This is O'Brian's wireless switch.

A similar switch is used inside the device to trigger it remotely, I suspect.

Bloody hell. So O'Brien built it.

Ah.

Sir, you see these gears?

They are the same as the gears used in Harding's miniature analytic engine.

Let me guess.

He didn't build it either.

Sir, I suspect that this is a collaborative effort using the expertise of five different inventors.

You've only mentioned four so far.

Oh, I suspect Myrtle Raylin is also involved.

The deaf woman who invented the- what do you call it?

Imails.

Yes, sir.

A project like this would require extensive coordination and communication over great distances.

Coded imails would fit the bill.

Myrtle Raylin wrote all of the codes.

There's only one thing that troubles me.

What's that?

O'Brian's wireless switch.

It doesn't actually activate the device.

Even though his switch is inside.

Well, yes, sir.

There's another primary switch.

A switch that turns on a switch?

What the hell for?

I have no idea, but I suspect there's yet another inventor involved.

Maybe it's your pal Alexander Graham Bell.

I have no reason to suspect him.

Not yet.

Your ball bearing wasn't used to frame you, Mr. Nellie.

It wasn't?

It was used as a component in a plot to k*ll Karl Schreyer.

Plot'?

Oh, ridiculous.

Then how do you explain the use of your invention as a component in the device that k*lled him?

Someone else must have put it there.

It wouldn't be difficult.

It's just a switch.

You must admit, it bears a strong resemblance to what you invented.

Well, whoever built this obviously copied my design, but this is so much more complex.

Are those Harding's gears?

Mr. Harding?

Yes, they are.

And it seems that in this device, they act more of a delay mechanism.

However, they do still serve as the central control.

It's just in a machine like this, it doesn't require a logical complexity.

Of course, your invention doesn't suggest an aptitude for complexity.

Now, see here.

Pardon me?

Oh.

Could you have built this device yourself?

No.

Perhaps if I applied myself.

No.

Of course I could have.

Well, I didn't, but I could have.

It is my belief that each one of you contributed to the design and construction of this device.

And that makes you all equally guilty of m*rder in the eyes of the law.

Now, the first one of you to admit their complicity in this scheme will be spared the noose.

Everyone else, however, I guarantee you will be hanged by the neck until they are dead.

So I ask you once again, were you or were you not part of a conspiracy to k*ll Karl Schreyer?

No.

Of course not.

No.

No.

Mr. Harding.

" Huh?"

Oh, no.

May I stay and study this?

Could any one of them have built this by themselves?

Harding, possibly, but he admitted it so freely.

Would a guilty person be so guileless?

Only if his guilelessness was an act.

Sir, are you all right?

Oh, I'm fine.

The heroin has knocked me back a bit.

Heroin?

The cocaine wasn't quite doing the job.

This new drug works wonders, Murdoch.

Oh, yes, I'm sure heroin is very effective, sir, but it's new.

It could prove to be just as addictive as cocaine.

It's only till the toothache goes away, Murdoch.

Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm gonna have a bit of a nap.

Sir, we've been deciphering the imails.

Sir, we've been deciphering the imails we got from Miss Raylin with her code wheel.

Oh.

How does it work?

The number of letters in the sender's first name added to the number of letters in the day the message was sent gives you the offset.

Offset?

Yes, say Myrtle sends a message on Thursday.

Six letters in "Myrtle," eight letters in "Thursday."

Eight plus six gives you...

14.

14.

So the offset is then 14.

Ah, so "A" becomes "N" and so on.

That way, the code changes every day with every sender.

That's very clever.

Mm, now, it didn't work for all of them.

This one particular imail was different.

Who sent this one?

Miss Raylin, we were unable to decipher one of the imails that you wrote to the other inventors.

It was sent on Tuesday.

"This does not conform to the code."

That's right.

Can you tell me why that is?

Uh...

This was only written four days ago shortly after the invention convention began.

Do you remember what you wrote?

I think this is a specially coded message written to the other inventors outlining the plot to k*ll Karl Schreyer.

This isn't one of our ciphers.

How do you know?

Oh, I've learned to see letters as numbers.

"N. 'S u.'

..

"B" is "Z."

Then in a standard cipher, the letters shift, but the numerical relationship between them stays the same.

And you're able to recognize these patterns?

Oh, yes.

Yeah, it's easy.

I always look for the word "the."

"T" is always 11 letters from.

"H" is always four letters from.

But I think you'll find that there's no such sequence in this message.

Therefore, whoever wrote it was using a more complex cipher.

You think it would be possible to use your mechanical analyzer to break this cipher?

Well, I supposed I'd have to...

It's a straightforward, logical looping.

And I'd have to assign each letter to a number.

Well, if it's too difficult-

No, no, no, no.

It's absolutely possible.

When can we begin?

The machine's instructions are punched in cardboard.

Like Jacquard's loom.

Exactly.

I'm telling the machine to execute a repeatable calculation that will shift forward with every loop, and that should test every possible sequence.

How long will that take?

Oh, no more than a couple of hours.

I just don't understand it.

I've tried every linear combination.

I mean, I could try a more complex routine, but I just doubt that anyone would go to the trouble of deciphering such a code, unless...

Unless what?

Unless it's a random code.

Random?

Random.

There is no numerical relationship.

Each letter is just randomly assigned to another letter.

Can you cr*ck such a code?

Well, yes, but the possible combinations are...

I this is an N factorial calculation, Detective.

26 times 25 times 24-

Is it possible?

In theory.

But the possible permutations are in the trillions, in the quadrillions.

So you can't do it.

No.

I can't do it.

So could it be this... what do you call it?

Random cipher.

I don't know.

It would require the sender and the receiver to memorize a 26-letter code.

Mm, that wouldn't be easy.

No, you're right, sir, too prone to error.

Must be something else, something more simple.

Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out, Murdoch.

But I always look for the word "the."

A reoccurring grouping of three letters.

Three letters.

George.

George, I've cracked the code.

Have a look.

Arrest them.

Arrest them all.

"We have precisely 20 seconds "between when the device is triggered "and when the sh*t is fired.

"Should the machine be discovered, "it is imperative that we stick to the plan.

We must hang together, or we all hang separately."

Well, that proves it.

But, sir, they're all sticking to their story.

Sir, this is the perfect opportunity to demonstrate our Truthizer to our investor.

Your investor, George.

Perhaps he's got a point.

If they know that we know that they are lying.

One of them just might... just might cr*ck.

Your arm, please.

Now, watch it in action, Miss Dickinson.

We know for certain that they're guilty.

Now, as they engage in their prevarications, their guilty mind will cause the blue fluid to rise in the tube.

L, of course, know how the apparatus works, Mr. Crabtree.

Otherwise, I would not be here.

Yes, right, of course.

So how does this work, then?

Did you receive this imail?

No.

Oh, I see.

It responds to a change in the heart rate.

Very clever.

Did you or did you not send this imail?

I did not.

And then the resulting change in pressure drives liquid up the tube.

Fantastic.

Please, just answer the question.

I did not.

May I buy this from you?

I ask you again, did you or did you not send this imail to your co-conspirators?

That's it.

I'm out.

Wait, you should let me show you a pair of Detective Murdoch's night vision goggles.

They're-

Good-bye, Mr. Crabtree.

So now you think they're all innocent.

I don't know what else to think, sir.

We know at least one other inventor was involved, the man who designed the primary switch.

The switch that turns on the switch.

Yes, I've seen nothing like it in any invention, sir.

I only know it's a switch because of the way it's wired to the device.

You think this person built the device, then constructed an elaborate code to frame everyone else.

It's a possibility.

Now I just have to figure out how to activate the switch.

Time to go, Thomas.

Ah, right, right.

Higgins.

Good luck, sir.

Some mail, sir?

Precisely 20 seconds, George.

What's that?

20 seconds from the time the device was activated to the time it fired the sh*t.

What happened 20 seconds prior to the sh*t being fired?

Well, Schreyer was giving his speech, sir.

His speech was 18 seconds.

What happened 2 seconds before he started to speak?

Well, he blew his dog whistle.

Well, he agreed to blow the dog whistle, and I wanted to test the frequency limits of my recorder.

George, arrest Alexander Graham Bell.

Higgins.

What are you doing here?

I don't think I'm supposed to say.

Does this have anything to do with the inspector?

When he taps twice on the window, I'm gonna go in and say there's been an emergency and that he's needed.

Avoiding the dentist, is he?

Mm.

Higgins, Detective Murdoch has asked that you arrest Alexander Graham Bell at his hotel.

I can't.

I'll take care of your duties here.

Well, why can't you arrest him?

Oh, Higgins, I'm not a mind reader.

I can't read the detective's mind.

He said, "George, find Henry."

"Have him arrest Alexander Graham Bell.

He's at the Queens Hotel."

Right away.

Why are you always knocking on windows?

That's just my way of saying, "Let's get on with this."

Do your worst, Doc.

Sir...

Crabtree.

I just wanted to update you on the status of the case.

Oh, well, I'd better come.

That's not necessary, sir, but you should know that we printed the imails.

Oh, well, I should take a look.

Again, that's not necessary, sir.

The only damning one came from Alexander Graham Bell's machine.

Oh, well, we'd better arrest him.

And that's what we're doing, sir.

I've sent Higgins.

Higgins?

He seemed the right man for the job, sir.

Best of luck with the tooth.

What is this?

A sonic switch.

More accurately, a harmonic switch, which is activated at the precise frequency of 18,000 cycles per second, conveniently the same frequency as your dog whistle.

It was an ingenious plan: Build a sonic switch into a device and have Karl Schreyer trigger it himself.

Brilliant.

Wh-Why would I k*ll Karl?

I was the only one that didn't hate him.

So you made sure to tell me and then proceeded to insinuate yourself into my investigation.

You invited me.

Oh, did I'?

As I recall, it was you who approached me and then told me about Karl Schreyer's many enemies.

It was you who told me about the audio recording and volunteered your audiograph to help me analyze it.

So I helped you, and that makes me guilty?

You manipulated me so that I wouldn't come to the conclusion that I now have.

And what is that?

That you built it using parts from many different inventors so that it would appear that many different inventors conspired to k*ll Karl, but it was you all along.

By myself?

You were the only inventor at that convention capable of building such a device.

You were certainly the only inventor capable of building a sonic switch.

But, Detective, why would I do this?

Why would I k*ll Karl?

Why would I go to so much trouble to frame my fellow inventors, people whom I respect and admire?

Then how do you explain the fact that the device was triggered by a whistle you asked Karl Schreyer to blow?

Detective, I didn't ask Karl to blow the whistle.

He suggested it as part of his speech.

Why would he do that?

Unless...

Dr. Grace, have you completed your post-mortem?

I have.

Did you find anything unusual?

As a matter of fact, I did.

I determined the cause of death to be a g*nsh*t to the head, and normally I would have concluded my post-mortem at that point.

But as you might remember, I noticed that his eyes were jaundiced.

Yes.

Which is caused by an excess of bilirubin.

In newborns, it's quite normal, but in adults-

Doctor, if you could get to the point.

Yes, yes.

I dissected the liver, and that's where I found it.

Found what?

The tumor was as large as my fist.

So Karl Schreyer was dying.

He had a month or two at most.

He would have been in quite some pain.

I don't know if any of this is relevant.

Actually, Doctor, you've helped to confirm my theory.

Thank you.

Are you telling us that Karl made this?

And then used it to k*ll himself?

Is it patented?

I believe he built the device himself using knowledge he gleaned from his spy...

So that's what he was doing all this time.

And then sent coded imails to make it appear you were all conspiring to k*ll him.

Bastard.

He sent us to hang?

So it would appear.

And wait a minute.

All of this is contingent on you finding the device and deciphering the code.

How would he know that you would succeed?

Well, I imagine he knew Detective Murdoch by reputation.

I mean, he did ask specifically for you, did he not?

He did, yes.

But then why would he assume you wouldn't figure it out, as you so clearly have done?

I suppose that was a calculated risk.

Or maybe it didn't matter.

Maybe all he wanted was to force us to acknowledge his genius.

May I?

Well, he was that, a genius.

Which one of us could have made this?

Oh, I could have.

Be careful with that, Worseley, now.

That's somebody's invention.

Crabtree.

How was the dentist, sir?

Worst pain I've ever experienced.

I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

How does your tooth feel now?

Better.

I suppose I have you to thank for that.

Oh, sir, no thanks necessary.

You've got guts, Crabtree.

Not much in the way of brains, but you do have guts.

Oh, thank you, Detective. It's nice to have it back.

Thank you.

I don't think I could have solved this without your help.

Oh, I doubt that's true.

And I'm sorry for accusing you the way I did.

Oh, now, I'd have done the same in your shoes.

Good-bye, Mr. Bell.

You know, I'm staying in Toronto for a couple of weeks.

We should go for dinner.

Inventors need to talk to other inventors.

Oh, of course.

All right.

George.

I understand your investor backed out.

She was convinced the Truthizer didn't work.

Well, ironically, it did work.

Oh, I know.

This is quite the invention, sir, creating a sound to activate a switch.

Imagine if one day you could switch the lights on by-

I don't know clapping your hands.

Well, it would be brilliant for the bedridden or the infirm or just the unusually lazy.

Well, maybe you should invent it, George, hmm?

Perhaps I will.
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