18x02 - Only Murdoch in the Building

[bunniefuu]

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Effie Crabtree, Canada's
first female Crown Attorney.

And Clara Brett Martin was
the first female attorney

in the entire British Empire.

She forged the path
that I have followed.

I'm writing a profile on you.

"Woman Lucks Into Success"

isn't exactly a headline
that will attract readers.

I'm just being honest.

Your first case with the Crown

is one of the biggest
in Toronto's history.

You will argue that a former
city councilman should hang

- for the k*lling of three people.
- That's right.

However, Mr. Alister
Gordon will be lead counsel.

I'll be assisting him.

You're an assistant?

No. I'm a newly appointed
lawyer for the Crown.

What do you say to those
who believe that women

are mentally inferior to men and
incapable of logical reasoning?

I would say that it is their
reasoning that is illogical.

Women are the equal to men in every way.

And if they don't believe
that fact, then, well...

Just watch me.

[ENGINE RUMBLING]

Ta-ta, dear. Safe voyage.

[CURIOUS MUSIC]

Oh! You must be Mr. Murdoch.

I'm the landlord, Stanley. Lester.

Oh, it's a pleasure to
make your acquaintance.

And thank you for accommodating
me on such short notice.

- Just moved to town?
- No. I'm living on my own

for the first time in quite some time,

and my home is just very...

empty and quiet.

Well, you won't have that problem here.

Follow me, sir.

You're in 2C.

[DOG BARKING]

Make yourself at home.

Thank you.

Detective Murdoch?

Yes. Do I know you?

No.

Oh but thank God you're finally here.

There's been a m*rder.

[THEME MUSIC]

Jonathan B. Booth.

He lived in this room for about a year.

Was it two years?

I only lived here for seven
months. Well, seven and a half.

And you believe this
Mr. Booth was m*rder*d?

Yes.

It happened two weeks ago,

just after I last saw him
on Thursday at 4:15 p.m.

- You saw his body?
- No.

Then how do you know he was m*rder*d?

- He was gone.
- Gone?

Oh, he wouldn't just disappear.

Without saying goodbye?

No. No, no. No. No,
sir. No, not Mr. Booth.

Now, I told all of this to the
constables at Station House Four.

MacLaren and Cruickshank...

can't remember their Christian names.

It's all right. I know them.

But you're here now, so I can rest easy.

Actually, I am moving into these rooms

because this is to be my home.

- Oh.
- For now.

- [CLEARS THROAT]
- Oh.

So, if...

you don't mind.

Of course. I beg your pardon.

Was just, wh-wh-what about the m*rder?

I'll look into it.

So you'll be living here?

With me!

So it would seem.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Didn't know the hallowed halls
of power would be quite so dull.

Well, you are causing quite a stir.

I'd hate to see them when
they're not stirred up.

Hm.

So, let's, uh, go over this
once again, Chief Constable.

[SIGHS] Tell me exactly

what Francis Stewart said to you.

I've already told ya.

Tell me again.

Chief Constable Stewart

admitted to Councilman
Vaughan's involvement

in the m*rder of two
women almost 20 years ago.

Just a boy. A good family.

I knew the father.

They told me that the burglary was a...

was a youthful lark.

Some sort of a dare gone terribly wrong.

And what of the murders next door?

I believed them to be an accident.

If I'd known it was m*rder...

[BRACKENREID]: He also admitted
to letting Chadwick Vaughan

into the cell occupied
by Richard Tauber,

a man that was found dead
immediately after that visit.

And he'll admit to all
of that in open court?

He gave me his word.

[PHONE RINGING]

Detective Murdoch.

What are you doing here?

Isn't it your day off?

Something you'll soon
learn about me, Inspector,

is that I much prefer work to leisure.

Then we have something in common.

What's troubling you?

I'm moving into a rooming house

and the man who rented
my rooms before me

apparently has disappeared.

- And?
- W-well, uh,

all of the neighbours seem to agree

that the man, Mr. Booth,

was planning to move to
Hamilton at the end of the week,

but was seen with a
blue suitcase in hand

and all of his possessions cleared out.

Perhaps he simply left a couple
of days early to save on rent.

Hm. Hardly a mystery then.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

The Crown will prove to
you that Chadwick Vaughan

took distinct and an intentional action

to k*ll Elsie and Nora Haines in 1891

to hide the truth of an
affair he was carrying on.

Furthermore, the Crown will
show you that Mr. Vaughan

k*lled Detective Richard Tauber

while he was being held in the cells

of Station House Number
Four just last year

to keep quiet the truth of his
guilt in those previous murders.

Now Mr. Vaughan's considerable
power and influence

in the city of Toronto
has allowed him to get away

with these heinous acts.

None less than former Chief
Constable Francis Stewart

was under his sway

and will testify to his guilt.

You'd best hope Mr.
Vaughan is convicted.

Why do you say that?

You won't be long for a job if he isn't.

[MYSTERIOUS MUSIC]

[CAT YOWLING]

[PROJECTOR FLICKERING]

[SQUEAKING, THUDDING]

[SQUEAKING, THUDDING CONTINUES]

Yeah?

Beg your pardon.

I'm William Murdoch and I just moved in.

What do you want?

There is a tremendous amount
of noise coming from your rooms.

It's quite loud.

- What exactly are you doing?
- I'm not making any noise.

[KNOCKING]

- What?
- Now see here...

What's that on your hand?

Leave me alone.

So, you are investigating?

I was just complaining about the noise.

Is that so?

Well, just so you know,
Mr. Holland there...

he is my prime suspect.

[TENSE MUSIC]

[DOOR CLOSES]

King's Counsel has
prepared an expansive case

against Mr. Vaughan

with over a dozen witnesses
prepared to testify.

And very shortly we will be, uh...

- [WHISPERING]: Where is he?
- ... calling forth our first

witness to the stand to, uh...

Your Lordship, the Crown apologizes.

Our first witness is not
present in the courtroom.

We request a brief adjournment.

[MURMURING]

[KNOCKING]

Francis!

Something's blocking the door.

[GASPS]

Dear God.

Suicide.

Bloody hell, Francis.

And there is no sign of foul play?

The letter was in his handwriting.

He said he couldn't bear to testify.

He wanted to see Vaughan
hang as much as anyone.

But he was too much of a coward.

- The man is barely cold.
- By his own choice!

And now he's left our
case to fall apart.

If this man was to testify at trial,

didn't he provide a statement?

He refused.

And I allowed it.

Win the case, Mrs. Crabtree.

Because if you don't, then it's on me.

You last saw Mr. Booth two weeks ago

on Thursday at 4:15 p.m.

Yet, the landlord, Mr. Lester,

heard Mr. Booth here in the room

the following morning at 10 a.m.

"Walked past door at 10
a.m. Heard banging inside.

Assumed packing his belongings.

Slipped note under door to
request final week's rent.

No sign of note two days later."

And two days later, Mr. Booth as well

as all of his belongings were gone.

And the previous evening,
quicklime was stolen

- from the garden shed.
- What?

There's no mention of
quicklime in the police report.

Well, that's because I didn't notice it

until after the constables
started ignoring me.

Oh, what is that horrible smell?

- That?
- Mm.

No, it always smells like that.

I don't what it is,
but it's coming from 1C.

I'm boiling cabbage.

Hm. Yes, I, I, I can smell that,

but I'm not entirely sure
it accounts for all of...

Bye, Frank!

Be done. In a bit.

Your Honour, the Crown humbly asks
that you offer us an adjournment.

A key witness has taken his own life.

Our case was to begin with his testimony

and build upon its foundation.

We need time to regroup.

Your other evidence and
witnesses are available to you?

Yes.

Then present them to the jury.

Court will resume at nine
o'clock tomorrow morning.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

[MURMURING]

Effie, I have some questions.

Now is not the time, Louise.

It will only take a moment.

Tomorrow morning, before
court. My office, eight a.m.

Wipe that smirk off your face.

- I beg your pardon?
- You k*lled him.

Stewart? I didn't do a thing.

You manipulated him
into covering for you.

And now he's dead because of the shame

- you brought upon him.
- Chief Constable,

I am an innocent man.

If Francis Stewart k*lled
himself out of shame,

any responsibility for his death

should fall at the feet
of those who accused him,

and myself, of things we did not do.

Mr. Holland, in 2E,

and Miss Fink in 1C.

I can say after being here only one day

that neither is an ideal neighbour.

- Mm.
- And I have to agree

both are acting rather suspiciously.

Mm-hmm. Mr. Booth was
rather persnickety, too.

He was always in
everyone else's business,

- just like yourself.
- [HORN HONKING]

I wouldn't consider myself persnickety.

[KNOCKING]

Inspector Choi.

I brought you a housewarming gift.

- Oh! Uh, come in.
- [CHUCKLING]

[CLEARS THROAT]

Oh! You have company?

- This is...
- Tippy Longfellow.

- Uh.
- I live across the hall.

Uh, ah, Inspector Albert Choi.

[CHUCKLING] Uh...

What's this then?

Ah! This is to do with
the case I was looking into

at the station house. We...

The Case of the Man Who
Moved Out One Day Early.

Hm. All right, then, Detective.

I have no plans for the time being.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Impress me.

Mm-hmm.

Where do we stand?

We have plenty of
evidence to convict Vaughan

of the m*rder of Detective Tauber.

Fingermarks, eyewitness
accounts, including your own.

And there's a recording
of him confessing to it.

- Hm.
- Precisely.

The two murders from


There's the original police file,

which was adulterated by
Stewart on Vaughan's behalf.

Without Stewart to confirm that,

they can say Stewart was lying.

There's a witness, the jeweller.

- He gave a police sketch.
- Hm.

Twenty years after events.

The sketch looked exactly like Vaughan.

There's no way such a distant
account could be that reliable.

The Chief Constable's testimony.

He knows everything that
Stewart was going to say.

Hearsay.

And he got Vaughan's confession.

Only for Tauber.

He didn't deny the others,

but he didn't admit to them, either.

Look, this is not how
the law is meant to be.

We know beyond a shadow of a doubt

that Vaughan is guilty, and
the defence knows it too.

And yet they will trot out
every excuse in the book,

every arcane stratagem,

to sink this case and thwart justice.

That's their job.

It is not their job!

The purpose of our courts
is not to win at any cost.

It is to pursue the truth,

jointly, and in good faith.

It's defence attorneys who
choose to pervert justice.

Oh! Still bitter that I won?

- I beg your pardon?
- The sleepwalking case.

That has nothing to do with this.

But, yes, that trial
is a perfect example.

You lied before King and country

to achieve the result you desired.

What I argued was the truth,
to the best of my knowledge.

And you were wrong.

You were wrong, and you won anyway.

Well, now you're going to feel what
it's like to be on the other side.

And of course, there's the quicklime,

and we know what that's used for.

[SIGHS]

Speculation.

That's all this is. Now!

Let's focus on something
more important, hm?

Where shall we hang this?

- [CHOI CHUCKLES]
- Ah...

Ah, huh...

Perhaps... Ah!

A peephole!

Detective, have you been
spying on your neighbours?

I have not.

But perhaps Mr. Booth was. May I?

Hm.

Oh! Th-this must be Mr.
Lester, the landlord's room.

So this Mr. Booth was a Peeping Tom.

- Mm-hmm!
- Sir, have a look.

There is a blue suitcase
matching the description

of the one Mr. Booth was seen packing

prior to his disappearance.

So...

Booth was a Peeping Tom.

The neighbour finds out,

gets angry, kills him,

then hides his suitcase in his bedroom?

Yes! Yes! Yes, that's it! Detective!

We cracked the case!

Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

- Oh, my.
- What's this?

"Dear Tippy, No one told me Hamilton

was so beautiful this time of year.

Sorry I did not get a
chance to say goodbye.

Jonathan B. Booth."

You heard from him
and you didn't tell me?

No, no, no. You don't understand...

I believe I do understand,
Miss Longfellow.

You lied to us.

You have been wasting our time.

You could be charged with
filing a false police report.

No, no. This only arrived today.

So...

So, do you see, it
doesn't, it doesn't quite...

make sense.

Detective, I was just having
so much fun working with you.

And I'm terribly sorry.

[BRACKENREID]: We'll
get him for Tauber then.

I'm not prepared to
argue the Tauber case.

We weren't meant to
start till next week.

I know the case.

- Well enough to try it?
- Yes.

I can act as lead counsel.

I'll review all the
details before morning,

even if it takes me all night.

Very well.

But write down how you intend to proceed

so that I can step in as necessary.

Of course.

[HAMMER THUDDING]

Hm. I probably should have

maintained my initial skepticism.

Ah, sometimes we see
intrigue where there is none

because we need a distraction
from our own thoughts.

What thoughts?

Well, I can't answer that.

But surely you could see
why a man would concoct

a fanciful story, a
mystery to embark upon

with a cheerful new friend
from across the hall,

rather than sitting alone in his rooms,

watching films of people
halfway around the world.

I wasn't always a bachelor.

My life used to be very different.

Losing someone is...

an adjustment.

Well, I haven't lost Julia or Susannah.

Of course not, not in that sense.

But even if their absence is temporary,

they are not here.

[MYSTERIOUS MUSIC]

What is that?

What is that?

Has no odour.

Huh. Quicklime.

[MURDOCH GRUNTS]

Ah!

I think we may have found Mr. Booth.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Effie. Effie!

Where were you? Eight a.m., remember?

I was working all
night. I barely had time

to go home and get changed.

Well, you could have let
me know. I'm busy too.

I'll make it up to you.

Counsel? Is the Crown
prepared to proceed?

We are, your Honour.

The Crown would like to inform
the court that the charges

of m*rder relating to the 1891 deaths

of Elsie and Nora Haines
are being withdrawn.

[MURMURING]

And the third charge? Tauber?

We intend to proceed.

Very good, then.

Miss Hart? Inspector Choi.

I've heard a great deal about you.

Charmed.

I'm wondering how a
woman of your background

came to hold such a position.

It must be quite the story.

The same must be true of you, sir.

Indeed.

Ah! I see the two of
you have met. Wonderful.

What have you discovered, Miss Hart?

He's covered thoroughly in
quicklime, as you thought.

Quicklime desiccates the
body, limiting decomposition.

Making it difficult to
establish a time of death?

- Indeed.
- Hm.

Cause of death, on the
other hand, is easier,

thanks to the quicklime.

He was hit on the head. A
heavy object with a sharp edge.

- Hm.
- There was a lot of blood.

His clothing was soaked through.

I found this in his pocket.

"The truth... sins... you must know...

going on... in there...

Signed J.B. Booth."

He was definitely planning to
expose someone's wrongdoings.

Sounds like a motive for m*rder.

Where were you on the
afternoon of December 9th, 1911?

Home, the office, the club.

You also went to
Station House Number Four

- that afternoon, did you not?
- I did.

Constable Tucker
allowed you into the cell

specifically occupied by
Detective Richard Tauber.

- That's correct.
- A man who had provided

information regarding two murders
he had investigated in 1891.

Your Honour, we object to
any discussion of murders

- for which charges have been withdrawn.
- Your Honour,

this is pertinent to the circumstances

under which the victim was k*lled.

Proceed, counsel.

You were aware that Tauber

was implicating you in the deaths

- of Elsie and Nora Haines, correct?
- Yes, I was.

And that is why you entered his cell.

- Yes.
- It is also why

you struggled with him there,

leaving your fingermark
on his shirt button.

- Yes.
- And it is the reason you k*lled him.

No. I did not k*ll him!

He was found dead less
than an hour later.

He was alive when I left.

You said yourself you fought with him,

leaving evidence on his dead body.

I fought with him
because he was threatening

to go to the police about me.

But we came to an agreement.

I paid him money to tell the truth,

that I had nothing to do with the deaths

of Elsie and Nora Haines.

You paid him?

- Yes.
- Then where is the money?

No payment was found on him.

Perhaps the k*ller stole it.

A-all I know is he
was alive when I left.

Then why did you confess?

But I didn't.

[TENSE MUSIC]

In December of last year,
you questioned Mr. Vaughan

at his home, did you not?

I paid him a visit.

We played snooker. I won.

We had a conversation.

Did you discuss the m*rder
of Detective Richard Tauber?

- Yes, we did.
- What did Vaughan have to say?

He said that he never
intended to bribe him

because he knew that it wouldn't work.

- So, he k*lled him.
- Objection, your Honour.

My client just testified
that that never happened.

This is secondhand information

that clearly falls
under hearsay exclusion.

Thank you, counsel.

The jury will disregard the
Chief Constable's last comment.

Your Honour, the Crown would
like to play a recording

of the conversation in question.

Objection on the same grounds.

This recording has already
been entered into evidence.

My learned friend
submitted it just yesterday,

believing it to be exculpatory

in the cases of Elsie and Nora Haines.

[VAUGHN ON RECORDING]:
Francis helped me once,

so I helped him in turn.

[BRACKENREID]: And you both helped
each other out with Richard Tauber.

The Chief Constable arranged
for you to visit the cells.

You already know a great
deal, don't you, Inspector?

Francis made arrangements for
me to slip in the back door.

He thought Tauber could
be silenced with a bribe.

I'm delighted to have
had this conversation.

That it's been recorded for posterity.

Now wait a minute! That's not right.

- That's not what happened.
- That's how I remember it.

You confessed! Someone's
altered the recording!

Sit down, Mr. Brackenreid.
And remain silent.

The Crown provided the
recording, your Honour.

We simply listened to it and
submitted it to the court.

Your Honour, foul play is afoot.

This is not the complete
recording as obtained

by the police and shared
with the defence by the Crown.

What are you suggesting?

We all heard the conversation
with our own ears.

- They've adulterated it.
- Is that possible?

A portion of the conversation
has simply been excised.

It's easily done when
making a duplicate.

This is a damning charge.

It certainly is, but we
are prepared to prove it.

The Crown has the original
recording in our files.

I can have it to you in 20 minutes.

So I was right. Mr. Booth is dead!

Indeed.

We'll need to have another
look at that postcard.

It was obviously a
fake sent by the k*ller.

Of course.

Oh, this is very exciting.

To think that I had it right

and the great Detective
Murdoch had it wrong.

There you go.

Thank you, Miss Longfellow.

We'll let you know if
we need anything further.

Whoa, Detective! Just...

I made you something.

- What are these?
- They're pillowcases.

The linens provided
by Mr. and Mrs. Lester

are always somewhat threadbare.

Well, I only have one pillow.
I, I, I don't need both.

No, no, no. I already monogrammed both.

Perhaps you'll have company one day.

No, I don't think so.

But, uh, thank you. Thank you.

[BABY CRYING]

It's not here.

What do you mean, it's not here?

- I...
- It's in our case files.

I listened to it last night!

So you had it last
night and now it's gone?

It can't just have disappeared.

M-maybe you just misplaced it.

I don't understand. This can't be.

So you've lost it. Wonderful.

You spent the night before the trial

losing our key piece of evidence.

Oi, Gordon. Easy.

She was alone here when
we left her last night.

Was anyone else in the building?

No! I only left at 7:30 this morning.

There was no one else here.

We'll ask the staff,
but it certainly appears

no one else has been
in here, Mrs. Crabtree.

Your negligence may have
just lost us this case.

The handwriting on
this postcard is similar

to the letter found on Mr. Booth's body,

but it's not the same.

Not the real McCoy then.

The k*ller must have
travelled to Hamilton

to send that postcard yesterday,

maybe because he knew you
were looking into the case.

Start with the landlord.

Booth's letter threatened
to expose a secret.

I think it was whatever he saw

while looking through that peephole.

When I first arrived, I saw Mr. Lester

helping his wife into
a coach and see her off.

When you paid me a visit,
I saw a much younger woman

walking down the hall
toward Mr. Lester's rooms.

An affair.

Possibly.

And then there's Miss Fink.

Whatever's she's up to is
causing that horrible smell.

What smell?

That smell I'm smelling right now?

[SNIFFS] It's, uh, cabbage.

Some shame and... [SNIFFS]

Marijuana.

Marijuana? Oh, yes, I've heard of it,

but I've not come across it just yet.

It's becoming popular in California.

Your neighbour would surely be evicted

if anyone found out
she was smoking dope.

- Dope?
- That's what they're calling it now.

Apparently, it makes one fuzzy-headed.

Why would anyone want that?

[SQUEAKING, THUDDING]

This neighbour making all of the noise,

he's the one I find the most suspicious.

[SIGHS] Maybe so,

but when we were here yesterday,
I heard that same sound.

Right.

There's no way he could
have gone all the way

to Hamilton and back.

Oh, that's odd.

This obliterator mark
has no letter or number.

The... I'm sorry, what
are you talking about?

Uh, every postmark in
Canada has this circle

with information, time, date, location,

and these wavy lines are
used to mark a stamp as used,

or, or cancelled, hence obliterator.

- All right.
- Inside, there is often

a letter, or a number,

depending on which machine was used

at that particular post office.

The fact that there
is no number means... ?

Well, some postal locations
only have one machine,

so there is no need for
a letter, or a number.

But I happen to know that
Hamilton has two such machines,

so any postmark coming out of Hamilton

would bear the number one, or two.

How do you know this?

I subscribe to a quarterly publication

on postal innovations.

At any rate,

this postmark is a forgery.

Meaning the k*ller
did not have to travel

to Hamilton after all.

It could still be your neighbour.

That's the secret he's been hiding.

A-and the marks on his hand,

it wasn't blood.

It's ink.

He's a forger!

- Yeah.
- Mr. Holland,

Toronto Constabulary.

- [SIGHS]
- Stand back.

Plates, dyes, pulp stock,

everything needed to
print counterfeit money

and cut it to size.

[SQUEAKING, THUDDING]

Booth? Who's Booth?

Your former neighbour. 2C.

Oh, him. Huh.

- What about him?
- We found his body

hidden in the wall
between his room and yours.

I don't know nothing about that.

Where were you on the 18th
between the hours of 4 p.m.

and the following morning?

What day was that?

Thursday.

Oh! That's the day
that they locked me up.

For passing a bad bank note.

[SIGHS]

It's not here.

So what? We have my word.

You heard him. The judge won't allow it.

There's other evidence.

Enough to argue the case,
maybe, but to get a conviction?

I don't think so.

I shouldn't think so either.

I've spoken to defence
counsel and the judge.

We'll make it official tomorrow, but

the Crown is dropping all charges.

So Vaughan goes free.

I'm afraid so.

And I am sorry, Mrs. Crabtree, but...

I have no choice but to
recommend you for termination.

[TENSE MUSIC]

One of the metal counterfeiting plates

found in Mr. Holland's room
could be the m*rder weapon,

but no traces of blood
were found on any of them,

so there's no way to prove it.

Mm. Hardly matters.

He was booked at Station House One

the afternoon of March 18th

and they let him out late that evening.

So he couldn't have done it.

What about the postmark?

Someone else forged it.

Or had it forged.

Or went to Hamilton to send it,

and your little magazine was wrong.

It's been a considerable amount of work

to scrape away the quicklime
without damaging the body.

I need to be particularly
careful with the hands,

for example, in case there
are any defensive wounds

or scrapings under the fingernails.

- Anything?
- No.

But he had a small object
clutched in his hand,

a metal trinket of some kind.

- Hm.
- May I?

Uh, of course.

This appears to be...

an ornate thimble.

And it's been engraved.

A thimble? That's odd.

I know of at least one
person at the Regent Arms

that does a great deal of sewing,

and this thimble bears her monogram:

Tippy Longfellow.

Your admirer.

[SIGHS]

Do you recognize this?

- Yes!
- It's yours?

No. No,

but I saw it in a shop window once.

Without my monogram, of course.

I stopped to admire it one day when
I was out walking with Mr. Booth.

Maybe he bought this
for me as a parting gift.

Perhaps he was on his
way to give it to me?

Why would he give you a parting gift?

Unless the nature of your relationship

was more intimate than you let on?

No.

But...

I always suspected
that he was sweet on me.

It's why I was so sure
he would say goodbye.

And why I was, I was
quite worried about him.

Or it's yours, and you k*lled him.

What? No! Why would I?

Because you're obsessed.

With Detective Murdoch.

You k*lled Mr. Booth to lure him in,

to see if he was smart
enough to solve your crime.

No! I...

How else would you have known

about the tarp and the quicklime?

Both were identified by you

as being relevant to the m*rder

- before the body was found.
- Mm.

- How did you know?
- Ugh!

Well, just hang onto your horses there.

If all of that was true,

why would I beg the world's greatest
detective to take on the case

and then lead him to the very evidence

that would expose my guilt?

To meet your hero.

And hang by the neck forthwith?

[CLEARS THROAT]

Sir, though it is
true people have k*lled

in order to get close to me,

the fact that I moved
into the Regent Arms

was pure happenstance.

Miss Longfellow here did not lure me in.

Nevertheless.

Put her in the cells.

It's a bloody hatchet job.

But you'll be back on
your feet in no time.

Maybe. Maybe not.

I highly doubt the
Crown Attorney's office

will hire another woman anytime soon.

A recording can't just vanish.

It's impossible that Vaughan's lawyer,

or anyone hired by them,
could have broken in.

I was there all the way
until after daybreak.

There wasn't a sign of anyone.

And no sign of a break -in.

Maybe they got your keys somehow

and waited for you to leave.

If they did,

someone would have seen them.

What's all this?

We've been focusing
on our suspects' alibis

for the time of the m*rder itself.

Now the k*ller engaged in
a series of complex steps

to cover up the crime.

Interviews with, uh,
neighbours, gardeners, witnesses,

all narrow down who could have performed

- each of the steps and their cover-ups.
- Hm.

The m*rder, obtaining the
tarp from the basement,

stealing the quicklime, and
hiding the body in the wall.

All right. And?

As you can see, our
results are inconclusive.

- Hm.
- No one person

could have performed all of the steps

required of the k*ller.

I fear we may be looking
in the wrong direction.

Hm. Well, we know it's not Holland,

he was at Station House One.

You seem decided it
was not Miss Longfellow.

- Hm.
- The simplest explanation,

then, is someone is either mistaken

or lying on behalf of the k*ller,

who has to be either Fink or Lester.

Let's bring them in.

Right.

[MCNABB]: Told you to clean your hands.

It's ink. It takes a
couple days to come off.

Anyway, you're just putting more on 'em.

Fine. Index finger.

[MYSTERIOUS MUSIC]

Mr. Holland,

when did your hand
become stained with ink?

Couple days ago.

The evening before last,

your other hand was
stained with red ink.

How were you able to wash one
hand clean and not the other?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Come on. Off to the cells.

Am I mistaken?

I could have sworn I saw
something red on his hand

that I even mistook
for blood at the time.

Maybe it was blood.

Maybe.

No. It wasn't.

The first time Mr.
Holland answered the door,

his left hand was clean.

The second time, his left
hand was stained with red.

Meaning... he spilled something?

Meaning Mr. Holland could have done each

of the steps required of the k*ller.

He just didn't do them alone.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Miss Cherry?

When you were waiting
for me this morning

at the Crown Attorney's office,

did you see Mr. Vaughan's lawyer?

- No. Why would I?
- Are you sure?

Maybe someone he sent
to break into the place?

I was there for nearly an hour, waiting,

and I didn't see Vaughan's attorney

or any other hired g*ons.

Did you see anyone at all?

It was early in the morning.
The place was nearly empty.

One person came and went inside.

- Who?
- Can't say.

What do you mean you can't say?

This person was one of my sources.

They spoke to me with the
promise of complete anonymity.

Listen to me, young lady,

this isn't about protecting a source.

Whoever it was more than likely
sabotaged the Crown's case.

And my career along with it.

- Sabotage?
- Yes! Tell us who it was.

I can't. My sources are confidential.

You'll tell us, or I'll
throw you in a cell.

And I'll publish my feelings

about the new Chief
Constable from behind bars.

Goodbye.

Wait.

Sir, the article.

There are very few people with
intimate knowledge of the case.

If the culprit was a source...

We could probably figure out who it is.

Stewart's suicide.

It says he was wearing his kilt.

But there was no one
else there except us.

And Gordon.

He claimed I was the only one
at the office this morning,

but if he's Louise's source...

Bloody hell. He scuppered his own case.

[SOFT CLATTERING]

I hear something. Should we knock?

There shouldn't be anyone in there.

As I suspected.

The reason Mr. Holland
only had red ink on his hand

the second time he answered the door

was because the first time was his twin.

Two Mr. Hollands.

Both under arrest.

[SIGHS]

Mr. Booth was planning to expose
your counterfeiting scheme.

He'd even written a
letter to the police,

detailing your operation,
but before he could send it,

you k*lled him.

But not before one of
you got himself arrested

in order to create the perfect alibi.

But why keep him in the wall?

We wanted to move him.

Mr. Lester, he was in the room,

trying to rent it straight away.

He even took the man's suitcase

as recompense for last week's rent.

How long were you planning it?

You lived in that rooming
house for nearly two years.

None of your neighbours knew
that there were two of you.

Mr. Lester charges by the head.

How did Vaughan get to you?

- I beg your pardon?
- Bribery? Blackmail?

I have no idea what
you're talking about.

We know you were here this morning!

We know you lied about it!

You stole that recording
to sink our case.

Typical.

A woman blaming a man
for her own failings.

We will prove what you did.

It's only a matter of time.

You know full well I have the
ear of the Attorney General.

We'll see what he has to say about it.

[OMINOUS MUSIC]

[SIGHS]

Effie.

I'm not here to apologize.

I didn't ask you to, Miss Cherry.

- I was just doing my job.
- At the expense of mine.

Would you prefer I
didn't report the news?

That I hung my sources out to dry?

I would you prefer that you
show some decency. To a friend.

And if you were referred
a case in which a friend

was accused of a crime,

would you turn your back on your job?

I would recuse myself.

If I didn't protect my sources,

I wouldn't be writing about how Gordon

is preparing to submit his resignation,

due in part to the swirling rumours

of bribery reported in my newspaper.

If it's information you want from me,

you won't be getting it.

Not about that. But there
is one claim I need verified.

Is it true that you've been reinstated

in the Crown Attorney's office?

No comment.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Chadwick Vaughan.

Look at you, a free man.

Justice chooses its own path.

Everyone in this room knows the truth.

They might smile at you in public,

but believe me,

they know.

You'll be hearing the word "k*ller"

whispered behind your back
for the rest of your life.

Hm.

I don't much care what people whisper.

Fact that they think
I'm a ruthless k*ller

may end up being to my benefit.

We'll see about that.

Not everyone in this city is a coward.

Good luck to you in your
career, Chief Constable.

Just remember,

the man who put you there is dead.

And you've made more
enemies than friends.

[OMINOUS MUSIC]

I apologize for locking you
in our cells, Miss Longfellow.

Are you kidding me?

I was arrested for m*rder
by Detective Murdoch.

Ah... Hoowee!

[CHUCKLING] What a story.

Well, if we hadn't discovered
the Holland twins' ruse,

it might not have had a happy ending.

Were you not worried about
possibly facing the noose?

No! No, not for a minute.

The great detective always gets his man.

And to think, I live right
across the hall from him!

[LAUGHING]

[SOFT MUSIC]

[DOOR CLOSES]

[PROJECTOR FLICKERING]