07x08 - Republic of Murdoch

[bunniefuu]

Police! Stop!

Ah!

Did you see a man come... Hey! Did you see...

Oh, bloody hell.

Oy! You there!

You don't run from an officer of the law!

I wasn't running, boy. I was chasing.

What?!

Yeah, the... the real k*ller, he's over there.

Get back... Ooh!

George?

I'm terribly sorry, sir. He got away.

Are you all right?

He got me in my least vulnerable part, sir.

Ah, sir.

What have you, Henry?

Well, the victim's name was Peter Farrelly. He arrived yesterday morning, sir.

According to the manager, there were complaints of a loud altercation last night around 8 o'clock.

And then the maid found his body this morning.

Hm. Thank you, Henry.

Please interview the hotel guests, collect Mr. Farrelly's personal effects and bring them to the station house.

Right away.

Sir, the man I was chasing was in the room when we got here.

Why would he return to the scene of the crime?

Indeed, George.

Perhaps he was looking for this.

It was clutched in the victim's hand.

A scrap of paper?

Not just any paper, George.

Linen paper.

They make paper out of linen?

Not anymore, but they did a long time ago.

How long?

Centuries, George.

Centuries.

May I have a look?

No, we mustn't touch it.

I suppose you're gonna tell me how you know the age of this.

The paper is made of cloth, sir, not wood pulp.

So, how old exactly?

Well, I can't say, but it's certainly pre-industrial technology.

And you think it's got something to do with the m*rder.

Looks like writing, doesn't it?

My theory is that this is the bottom third of a series of letters.

And how are you going to figure out the top third?

Top two thirds.

I have an idea.

I'm sure you do. Well, keep me informed.

And where are you off to, sir?

My son John and his pals are putting on some sort of show.

A show?

Vaudeville of some sort.

The lad's got some talent.

Oh, good for him.

Probably gets it from his old man.

Some things you're just born with, Murdoch.

There was fresh bruising on his right cheekbone.

Three of his teeth were loosened. And... look here...

He was bitten?

Not your typical Corktown Saturday night, I would say.

So, he was beaten to death.

It seems as though he took more than he gave.

Most of the bruising appears defensive.

Implying murderous intent. Time of death?

I'll be determining that shortly.

Whew.

Wow!

(constables laughing)

What on earth was that screech?

Henry's ration of the rum, sir.

We found it in the victim's suitcase.

George, that's evidence!

Our intentions were purely investigative, sir.

It is my belief that our victim, Mr. Farrelly, hails from where I spent my formative years.

The colony of Newfoundland.

Newfoundland.

But yes, sir, and the man that I was chasing this morning, he spoke with a Newfoundland accent.

You spoke to him?

Briefly, before he biffed me.

The guests who heard the fight last night, sir, said the two men were speaking strangely, that it sounded like English but that it wasn't.

And Henry's reaction to the rum confirms my suspicions: both victim and k*ller were from the colony.

Hm. Anything else?

Yes, sir. We found... this bottle.

Chloral hydrate.

Now, isn't that what disreputable sorts put in other people's drinks to render them asleep?

Yes, it is.

Interesting. Right, then, George, speak with the night clerk, find out what he knows about what happened.

And yes, see if Mr. Farrelly spoke with a Newfoundland accent.

Sir.

Henry, I have a different task for you.

Sir?

Henry, I believe these symbols represent a sequence of letters.

Your job is to figure out which letters.

How many combinations are there?

Thirty-five trillion.

Thirty-five...

Steady on, Henry.

Very few of those will make actual words.

Now, I've devised a way to make your task easier.

Each of these tiles represents a letter on the board.

And the number in the corner represents their position from the left side.

You'll be much more productive if you proceed methodically, and you'll soon see which sequences have the potential to make actual words.

What if they're not English words?

Let's hope that they are, or that would make the task considerably more difficult.

Good luck.

Bugger.

He d*ed between 8 o'clock and 9 o'clock last night.

Which is consistent with the argument that was overheard.

He was drunk. There was a large quantity of what I believe to be rum in his stomach and high levels of alcohol in his blood.

Hm. Anything else out of the ordinary?

Yes. I think you'll find this interesting.

I also found traces of chloral hydrate in his stomach.

Mr. Farrelly left at about 6 and returned around 8.

Did he speak with an accent?

He didn't speak at all.

Not a friendly type?

Actually, he seemed to be in a hurry.

And when did the fight begin?

After the man came in.

Which man?

He asked for Mr. Farrelly's room number.

He talked with an accent like yours, only more so.

Is that right? Anything else you could tell me about him?

Just that he arrived in a Prestige Cab.

Hm.

(knocking on door)

Inspector Brackenreid.

What a nice surprise. How can I help you?

It's about my eldest son, John.

I know perhaps that I didn't spend enough time with him, but a man does have obligations to keep his family well fed and whatnot.

Of course. Inspector Brackenreid, what is it you want to talk about?

I think my son's a Nancy boy.

What makes you say that?

He was in a play.

So, he shares your love of the theatre.

It was an Oscar Wilde play and he played Lady Bracknell.

I was hoping for something with a bit more blood and guts, maybe Macbeth or Hotspur.

Men have played female characters.

It was the way he played her... really... embracing the role, if you know what I mean.

Would you have a word with him, Doctor?

Of course.

Keep this between us.

This is the worst job ever.

Henry, you're approaching this with the wrong attitude.

Think of it as a game. You can call it...

Scramble.

Could be a lot of fun.

Ah, sir.

I telephoned the Prestige Cab company, and they confirmed they dropped a man off at the Queen's Hotel at 8:00pm.

And that man was picked up from a home at 23 Anne Street.

Thank you, George.

There's more, sir.

There often is.

That home belongs to one Ezekiel Farrelly.

That surname again.

Indeed, sir.

Ezekiel Farrelly?

Toronto Constabulary.

Sir.

Newfoundland rum.

Very good.

We'll bring it in... and check for fingermarks.

We'll also need to bring the contents to the morgue and have it tested.

Sir, what exactly are we looking for?

Chloral hydrate.

Like this, sir?

(door closing)

Someone's still here.

Or just leaving.

Hey! Stop there!

You don't get away from me twice!

Oh, for the love of...

On your way.

Slippery fish, that one, sir.

So, this is our man?

Well, the eyes were a little beadier, but that's him more or less.

Right then.

I want these distributed to all the usual places... stationhouses, transit points.

I want every man in uniform on the lookout for this fellow.

And, lads, if you do see him, don't let him out of your sight.

He is very, very sneaky.

Hello, John.

My name's Dr. Ogden.

I'm a friend of your father's.

He wanted me to speak with you.

All right.

How are you?

I'm fine.

And how are things between you and your father?

He thinks I'm a sissy.

Well, John, I'm sure he doesn't think...

He does. He's as much as told me so.

That's why I'm here, isn't it?

John, it's all right if you don't like the same things as some of the other boys...

I'm not, you know.

I'm not a sissy.

I've tested the contents of both glasses and the bottle.

The liquid was 65% alcohol.

Rum?

I tasted a small sample and can attest that it is indeed rum, albeit of a quality I've never before encountered.

Did you happen to find any chloral hydrate?

Not in the bottle itself, but in both the glasses.

Both?

You've made some progress there, Higgins?

Well, this is everything I could find for the first 3.

And now I'm working on the fourth.

Sin is that your only option for the third word?

Well, the first letter has to be S, it's the only option.

The second letter could be an L, T, I, or an F.

And the third has to be an H, K, or N, so "sin" is the only word that fits.

Yes, but sin doesn't really go with any of the words that you have here.

I mean, it can't be just be a random assortments of words, right?

It has to mean something.

Mm.

Have you tried numbers?

Well, there's no number option for the third position, and you can't mix numbers and letters.

Yes, you can. Let's just say that this S is actually a 5.

Then we could take the T and the H: "5th."

Then our next word could be O-F: "Of." "5th of."

"Remember, remember, the 5th of November."

What?

Guy Fawkes, Henry!

Honestly, are you completely oblivious to your own heritage?

Anyway, the point is that our next word has to be a month.

Now, how many months have 4 letters?

Not many.

Two: June and July. J-U-N-E.

"5th of June."

The last 4 characters will be numbers, and that will be your year.

They were trying to drug each other?

We found chloral hydrate in both Ezekiel Farrelly's kitchen and Peter Farrelly's suitcase.

I suspect they poured it into each other's glass while the other wasn't looking.

Well, there's irony for you.

How about the whys of it, Murdoch. Any ideas?

It may have something to do with the piece of paper we found in the victim's hand.

I suspect that the other portion of the document was torn from his clutches by the k*ller.

And you believe that to be Ezekiel Farrelly?

Both Ezekiel Farrelly and the k*ller spoke with a Newfoundland accent. Ezekiel Farrelly was seen visiting the victim shortly before the m*rder and hasn't been seen since.

Hm. Ah.

Julia.

Hello, William. Inspector.

Doctor.

What brings you here?

Actually, Murdoch, I asked for Dr. Ogden on a personal matter.

Ah, right. I'll leave you to it, then.

Have a seat, Doctor.

Ah, sir.

I showed the sketch of our suspect to the night clerk to make sure that it was the same man that visited Peter Farrelly that night.

And?

He couldn't be sure. Poor eyesight, apparently.

The 5th of June 1720. Very good, Henry!

Thank you, sir.

Oh, yes, very good, Henry.

Right. So, we have a signature and a date.

George, please go to the library and see if you can find anything significant on a John Roberts who lived in 1720.

Sir.

Excellent.

Hm.

John insists he's not a sissy.

Of course he does. Any boy would.

I want your assessment.

Well, I'm not sure I can provide anything definitive.

He's still very young.

What's your gut feeling?

I think he's a lovely, sensitive boy.

I hear you, Doctor. Loud and clear.

It's all my fault.

I allowed Margaret to make him soft.

Is your younger son soft?

Bobby? No.

He's all rough and tumble just like his old man.

Then how did Margaret manage to make just one son soft?

Inspector, the only person who has ever done any work in this area is Richard Von Krafft-Ebing, and he believes that sexual orientation is very likely inborn.

You can't hypnotize him?

Hypnosis doesn't change who you are.

I just want him to make the right choice.

Inspector, did you choose?

First time I laid eyes on a woman I certainly did.

He was the scourge of the seven seas!

A fearsome pirate who plied his trade on the mighty oceans.

He was feared from the Spanish Main to Kingston Harbour.

Who are we talking about, George?

John Roberts, also known as Black Bart.

Black Bart?

Yes, sir.

And on June 5, 1720, Black Bart landed in Newfoundland at a place called Trepassey Bay on a ship laden with treasure.

Now, sir, he may have buried his treasure there, hoping to later use it as a bargaining chip to secure a pardon.

Pirates were always doing that kind of thing back then.

And did he obtain a pardon?

No, sir, he was k*lled off the coast of Africa.

But the treasure map may have survived.

Sir, we may be dealing with a fragment of that very map.

Which could certainly constitute motive for m*rder.

(knocking on door)

What is it, Jackson?

I showed the sketch at the train station. He boarded a train.

To where?

North Sydney, Nova Scotia.

Sir, North Sydney is where the boats leave for Newfoundland.

Thank you, Jackson.

Sir.

Well, George, you know what this means, then?

Not exactly, sir.

You and I have to go to Newfoundland.

To find Black Bart's treasure!

To find Peter Farrelly's k*ller.

Yes, of course, sir.

(train whistle)

(seagulls calling)

Is it much further, George?

Well, sir, after this hill, there's a steep hill.

And then it's...

Another hill?

Yes, sir.

How's it feel to be home, George?

Sir, it feels just... (seagull calling) it feels like some things never change, sir.

This was new.

So, you're from the mainland, are you?

Toronto. We're in pursuit of a man we believe to be a m*rder*r.

What's his name?

One Ezekiel Farrelly.

(officer chuckling) That's not Ezekiel Farrelly.

No, that's Jacob Doyle.

You know him?

Every copper from here to Cornerbrook knows this sleeveen.

Ah, wouldn't peg him as a k*ller, mind you.

He's more of a pain in the arse from a long line of pains in the arse.

Who's he supposed to have m*rder*d?

We believe him to be a Peter Farrelly.

Hm, 'tis indeed who it is.

It's Pete. Has a shop up Water Street... antiquities mostly.

Andy!

Head over to Pete's Antiques. Inform Eunice that Pete's been m*rder*d in Toronto.

Tell her details are scanty but we'll send someone around when we finds what's goin' on.

Oh.

No crying this time.

So, who is Ezekiel Farrelly, then?

Never heard of him.

Is he an Eastbay or a Westbay?

Oh, I wouldn't know...

No, no, no.

Farrellys from around here come from Trepassey Bay, so he's either an Eastbay Farrelly or a Westbay Farrelly, and the two sides don't get along.

Why is that?

Job to say.

It's been that way as long as anyone can remember.

Which was Peter Farrelly?

Eastbay. Now, this Ezekiel, is he a suspect too?

Possibly.

Well, your badge will be returned upon your departure.

You are allowed to question whomever you like, and I'll grant you limited powers of arrest, but you'd better be right. We don't take lightly to men from other countries detaining local folk.

Him, on the other hand... you can arrest as many times as you please.

Ah. This... is... his last known address.

Thank you.

(knocking on door)

(knocking on door)

(motor starting) Sir!

Ugh!

Should we wait till he comes back?

I don't think he's coming back, George.

So, what now?

Perhaps we should pay a visit to the widow.

I knew something was wrong.

He was supposed to telegraph me as soon as that meeting was over.

What was the meeting about, Mrs. Farrelly?

He wouldn't say exactly, but it was something to do with that map.

What map?

The one that man came in to sell. Oh, what's his name?

He's a charming man but a sleeveen, I hear.

Jacob Doyle?

Yes, that's the one.

He came in about a week ago waving a paper... linen paper.

It looked to be about mid-18th century.

Was this a treasure map, ma'am?

I didn't get more than a glance at it.

Oh, Lord.

You don't think that they k*lled Pete for it?

It's a possibility.

Did he buy the document?

No, but I could tell that he wanted to.

He offered Jacob $20.

Is that a large sum for the item?

Newfoundland is old, sir. Documents on linen paper, they're not altogether common, but they do come in.

A piece like Jacob brought in, that was worth 2 or 3 at best.

A man offers you 10 times more than you know something's worth, makes you think twice about selling.

Do you have any idea how Jacob Doyle obtained the document?

He said he won it in a poker game.

From whom?

Clay Murphy. Lives up on Barnes Road, I believe.

I had 3 kings. Three!

And Doyle, jeezly Doyle, he's a bluffer, see?

He raised me. I had no more money on the table, so I offered up that old piece of paper I found in me root cellar.

And wouldn't you know it? The bastard had a flush.

Did you say you found it in your root cellar?

Yeah, it was crammed in here.

I found it when I was cleaning the place out.

What was written on it?

Oh, it's a job to say.

It looked to be part of an old land survey.

Part of?

Yes.

There was writing at the top that appeared to be a continuation of something that went before; same thing with the bottom. And in the middle was a small map of what appeared to be coastline.

Hm. How long have you lived at this property?

All me life.

Me father owned it and his father before him.

Any idea who owned it before that?

A family by the name of Farrelly, I believe.

Sir, I think what Mr. Murphy was describing was the middle section of 3 pieces.

At least three. Why?

Well, sir, I recall a story from my childhood that involved pirate and treasure and 3 feuding brothers.

Was this a true story?

No, sir, it was a children's book, actually, pictures and all, read to me by my Aunt Azalea.

And why is this relevant, George?

Because, sir, I can't stop thinking that the name of these feuding brothers was Farrelly.

Indeed?

Sir, it would give me great pleasure to introduce you to the women who raised me.

Of course.

It's just over this hill.

Oh! (women shrieking with delight)

Georgie Porgie!

Aunties.

Aunties, it's wonderful to see you, and I will visit with each of you, but right now I'm on official police business.

Listen to him all growed up.

Sounds serious.

Well, it is.

Detective Murdoch and I need to ask Aunt Azalea some questions.

Have you come to arrest her, Georgie? I thought she was your favourite.

Don't be so foolish. You're all my favourite, and I'll be arresting you all equally.

She'll be out in a moment. She's entertaining.

Ah. Well, in that case, Detective Murdoch, it's my pleasure to introduce you to my aunts, Aunt Daisy, Aunt Marigold, Aunt Iris, Aunt Dahlia.

Hello. How do you do?

Is that Georgie's voice I hear?

(Azalea gasps.) Ohhh!

So good to see you.

Aunt Azalea, Detective William Murdoch.

Oh, my goodness.

Georgie writes about you all the time.

You never said he was so handsome.

(aunts giggling)

It's a pleasure.

Aunt Azalea, we need to ask you some questions.

Oh, well, come on, then. We goes into my room.

I thought you were entertaining.

Oh, well, we're all finished now.

(door opening)

(door closing)

Got a card from Petunia the other day.

She says she sees you every week.

Yes, I stop in at the lunch counter every Monday.

She still stout?

And getting stouter by the week.

And Primrose?

She's in Belleville now.

Oh.

Cousin Penny drops by every now and then.

She's got herself engaged to some young fella.

Azy, I was very sorry to hear about the reverend.

Oh, it was his time, Georgie.

The Lord took him kindly. Can't ask for more than that.

Yes, I suppose so.

Um, do you remember reading me a book about 3 feuding brothers?

It was a children's book. There was a picture of a pirate ship on the front.

Ben's book.

Ben Farrelly was one of my regulars.

He was hoping to publish it but it never panned out.

Do you still have it?

If I do, it'll be in the attic. Right back.

Mmm.

George... what kind of place is this?

It's a rectory, sir. The reverend wasn't using it, so he rented it to my aunts for their business.

What kind of business?

Sir, if you don't know, I'm not sure I should say.

I might have guessed, George.

That's good, sir.

It would have made for an awkward explanation.

George, was the reverend aware of all of this?

Oh, yes, sir. It was his idea.

I found it.

It's a bit dusty.

Oh, my goodness, look at that.

I remember it being so much bigger.

Oh.

Right, then. The Pirates of Trepassey Bay.

"Once upon a time, there was a fisherman named... "

(Murdoch clears his throat.)

Sir, perhaps I should summarize.

Good idea, George.

(George clears his throat.)

So, essentially, we have a fisherman and he has 3 sons.

And they quarreled and fought with each other.

And the fisherman, he despaired.

And then one day, the dreaded pirate Black Bart, he sails into Trepassey Harbour.
"Be not afraid," says he.

"Come with me, I'll make pirates of ye.

Shillings 2 I'll pay to you.

A jolly roger and a cockatoo"...

George, if we could get to the gist.

Yes, of course. So, the fisherman, he joins up with Black Bart and they go on many incredible adventures.

That could be my favourite one.

(Azalea chuckles.)

But unfortunately, one day, after a violent fight at sea, Black Bart is k*lled and his crew arrested, but not before a treasure map finds its way into the hands of the fisherman.

Here we see him with it, looking rather chuffed with himself.

But of course, he's been sentenced to hang, so he divides the treasure map into 3 pieces and bequeaths them to his sons, knowing that they'll finally have to work together if they want to find the treasure.

But they never did.

No, sir.

Two of the brothers conspired to k*ll the third, and only after they do, do they realize he has hidden his piece.

So, the treasure was never found.

Is the story true, then?

Apocryphal though it may be, there is a ring of truth.

What can you tell us about the author?

Oh, he was my favourite.

We was to be married, but he d*ed in the storm of '86.

Hm.

Um, was he Eastbay, or Westbay?

Westbay, and proud of it.

Oh. Miss... uh, Aunt Azalea, we are looking for a Westbay Farrelly by the name of Ezekiel.

Zeke! Yes.

Fine fella. His family moved out Toronto way, as I recall.

We believe he may have moved back to Newfoundland.

Do you know where we might begin to look for him?

Ooh, I imagine he'd be with his in-laws.

They live south of town.

Petty Harbour.

Petty Harbour.

You're leaving?

George, why don't you stay and visit with your aunts, and I'll make inquiries?

Thank you, sir.

John.

Good God.

I got into a fight, Father.

Who with?

Johnny Fairweather.

Johnny... he's twice your bloody size.

I did my best, Father.

There's no shame in taking a b*ating, son.

If you're in the right, the only shame is in running from it.

Thank you, Father. I'll see you at dinner.

You lost, is you?

Hello.

I'm looking for Ezekiel Farrelly.

And who is you?

Detective Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary in Canada.

This man is wanted for m*rder.

Yeah, well, there's no Zeke Farrelly around here.

I didn't call him Zeke.

You used a familiar contraction, which leads me to believe you do know him.

What are yous, calling me a liar?

I think you're deliberately avoiding the truth, and I'm not leaving here until I get it.

(men chuckling)

Oof! (men shouting)

(man): Give him a good one!

Ah!

Oh!

Duck!

Oh!

Duck!

Ooh!

(together): Run!

Get him!

Come on!

Come here, get on me GTO.

(motor starting) GT what?

GTO, for Get Thee Out of here!

Ok. Go. Go!

Inspector! Is everything all right?

It's John. He got into a fight yesterday at school.

That surprises me.

It surprised me too.

It was his first ever fight. He took quite a b*ating, came back with a split lip and a black eye.

I can see why that would upset you.

Upset me?

I was dead chuffed about it.

My boy's finally acting like a man.

Well, then what is the problem?

I talked to his teacher.

John picked on the biggest lad in his class for no reason at all.

You think he deliberately provoked a b*ating to prove he's not a sissy?

He came by my office. He never just pops by my office.

It was all for my benefit.

The boy's got guts, I'll give him that.

Your approval is clearly important to him, and he's willing to go to extreme lengths to get it.

Well, look who we have here.

George, I would like you to meet Mr. Jacob Doyle.

Oh, we've met.

No hard feelings, what.

Actually I do have some.

And you can put your hands behind your back, Mr. Doyle.

George, George, Mr. Doyle is no longer a suspect.

In fact, we are going to be working with him.

This is the document that Mr. Doyle won in the poker game.

Where is this?

Up the shore from Trepassey Bay.

So, there was a treasure map.

There's nothing on there about no treasure.

But when I showed it to Pete and he offered me a 20 for it...

That's when you knew.

That's when I suspected.

It was only after he sent Gordie Andrews to come get the map that I knew.

A local burglar Mr. Farrelly hired to photograph the document.

Photograph?

Why not just steal it?

'Cause Pete knew I'd know who was after stealing it.

By photographing it, Mr. Farrelly would essentially have the map without alerting Mr. Doyle.

Gordie's as dumb as me arse, and I caught him red-handed.

Once I learned what he was up to, I made him take a fake.

A fake?

I took a skipper's map, a fisherman's map... and I traced out the shoreline south of Petty Harbour.

He then laid the tracing overtop of this document, then had Mr. Andrews photograph that.

So, what made you think this Gordie Andrews would play along?

I told him I'd turn him in to the coppers.

There's nothing they'd love more than to see him rot with the rats for a couple of months.

He then watched Mr. Farrelly, and when he went off to Toronto, Mr. Doyle followed.

It was obvious there had to be 2 pieces of the map.

I was hoping that he'd lead me to them.

But Ezekiel Farrelly b*at you to it.

Some quick.

Right. Sir, a word, if you don't mind.

Sir, this is the man who beamed me in the head with a 2x4.

Yes, I'm aware of that, George.

So, I think that shows a certain lack of moral judgment.

How do we know he's not the one who k*lled Peter and Ezekiel Farrelly?

Because when I asked the Westbayers about Ezekiel Farrelly, they att*cked me.

You think they were hiding him?

Possibly. I don't know what Farrelly looks like, and neither does Mr. Doyle, which is why we've agreed to work together.

We're going to trick Ezekiel Farrelly into revealing himself.

Mr. Doyle has discovered a recent dig in the vicinity of Petty Harbour, here.

Where Ezekiel Farrelly was looking for the treasure.

Yes, but unfortunately for Farrelly, he was using the wrong version of the map.

But, based on where he was digging, relative to the coastline...

We could determine where the treasure actually is!

Steady on, George. It still will only be an approximate location.

And might I remind you, we are here to arrest Ezekiel Farrelly.

But sir, this won't give us Ezekiel Farrelly.

No, but it could if he were to gain access to the true map.

So, what, you're just going to give him the map?

I'm not going to give it to him, George. I'm going to trick him into stealing it, which is where you come in.

(fiddle music nearby)

(men laughing and chatting)

How's you gettin' on, boys?

Eider drop o' barrel rum on the go, Skipper?

Good or cheap?

I don't know, cheap any good?

She's not good, but she's not half bad either.

Well, if she's not half bad, she's good enough for me.

Who d'you b'long to?

I'm from Trepassey, ole man. Peter Farrelly is me cousin.

Eastbayer, den, is ya?

Dat I am, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Tell me something, now, is Ezekiel anywhere to be found 'round?

No, my son, there's no Ezekiel round 'ere.

Oh, well, for frig sake, I has a message for'n.

And what's dat, then?

Dat map he got, de photograph of dat map, that's useless, ole man. That's like tits on a bull.

Whadya on about, b'ye?

I'm telling you, boys, I' faith.

I got the original right here.

Now, see, I'd be willing to sell that to him for a fair price if I seen him face to face.

Well, now, Ezekiel not here right now, but he'll be back by-'n-by if you wants t'ave another.

Well, if he'll be longer, then I will have another.

In fact, keep 'er filled to the gills. Tell me one thing: Can ye Westbay crowd have as fine a time as us Eastbay crowd?

(men cheering) Woo!

♪ Woo-ee! Woo-ee! ♪

Hey! Murray! There you go!

Hey! Hey! Hey!

(groaning in disappointment)

Woo!

Hey! Hey!

Hey! Hey!

Woo!

Woo!

Get away from me! No! Get away from me!

Come on, boys! Get away from me! Come on! Mwah, mwah, mwah!

Yeah! Ugh!

(men laughing)

(snoring)

(sniffing)

(groaning)

(George spitting)

He's not one for the hooch, is he?

I'm just a little out of practice is all.

Are you all right, George?

Sir, I'm feeling a bit better now.

Boys, are we sure we're in the right spot, or what?

We've been here for 3 hours. I haven't seen nothing.

That's him. Let's go.

(George groaning)

Give me that map.

Mr. Doyle, take your hands off of him.

Ezekiel Farrelly, you are under arrest for the m*rder of Peter Farrelly.

What is this? This isn't the map.

What map? I am Marconi.

Who?

My name is Guglielmo Marconi.

The wireless telegrapher?

I am here to set up a receiving station.

Oh, yes, yes, I've read about this. You wish to send a signal across the Atlantic.

I need an uninterrupted path to England.

Go to Signal Hill. You can see halfway to France from there.

It is called Signal Hill?

Yes, it's in St. John's.

Which is thataway, so, uh, go on, get.

Mr. Marconi.

If I may, it is an honour to meet you.

Boys, Farrelly could be here any second.

Sir, look at that chap there!

(hammering)

Let's go!

No!

(man yelling)

Give me your hand!

Give me the map.

No.

If you don't give us your hand, you will die!

But give me the map first.

Ezekiel Farrelly, you're under arrest for the m*rder of Peter Farrelly.

Mr. Doyle...

Just... just... let me be.

I've decided to take up rugby, father.

Rugby? That's a bit rough and tumble for you, isn't it?

Yes, sir. It's a good manly sport.

That's what you want, isn't it? For me to be more of a man?

Kids, could we have this bench?

Thank you.

John, I don't want you to be anyone that you're not.

And I especially don't want you to be someone that you're not just for my sake.

Since when?

Since always.

The only thing that matters to your mother and me is that... is that you're proud of yourself.

Maybe I don't want to play rugby, then.

I was thinking about putting on another play.

Which one?

Antony and Cleopatra.

What role?

Mark Antony, I think. He gets all the best lines.

Good lad. Spoken like a true Yorkshireman.

(Brackenreid chuckles.)

Congratulations, Detective.

Now will you be escorting Ezekiel back to Toronto?

Yes, sir, but if it's all right with you, we'd like to keep him in your cells for a few hours.

We have some goodbyes to say.

Aunties, it has been wonderful seeing all of you, and I will visit again before too long.

Is that a promise, Georgie?

Yes, it is in, indeed, and that's what it is.

Ohhh!

Georgie!

Can't you stay a bit longer?

Oh, he's so soft now!

All grown up, huh?

(all talking and laughing)

Well, it is beautiful country, George.

It is indeed, sir. I do miss it sometimes.

How long did you live here?

Well, I moved here with the reverend when I was 3 and back to Toronto when I was 16.

When did the reverend decide to rent out the rectory to your aunts, George?

Shortly after we moved here, I believe, sir.

It was a tough life for a dock girl back then.

They suffered for their trade.

So, the reverend and my aunts made a deal: they could stay in the rectory as long as they ran a respectable business.

Respectable?

Yes, sir.

All the customers had to wear a tie, no exceptions.

My aunts had to save their money, look out for one another, and they had to go to church every Sunday.

And all of your aunts are named after flowers?

Sir, that was my Aunt Daisy's idea.

They called themselves The Flower Girls of Flower Hill.

Sometimes a gentlemen caller would bring the flower of the girl he was calling on.

Your reverend was a very wise man.

Yes, indeed he was, sir.

Announcer: All new Murdoch, next Monday...

I don't like this.

You can't hang a man before his time.

You'll be hanged on schedule, just not where you're expecting.

I do love train rides.

Don't you, Detective?

[train horn blows]

Announcer: Murdoch Mysteries, next Monday at 8:00 on CBC.