10x08 - Weekend at Murdoch's

[bunniefuu]

An Inca tern.

The scoundrel abruptly takes up birdwatching, and within a month, he spots the first Inca tern in all of North America!

I wouldn't have believed it had I not been there myself.

And you just know he's going to wring every last drop out of this discovery.

Oh, he'll wring everything out of it.

Lectures, books, guided tours, you name it, he will wring it.

He claims Josephine Dawson suddenly agreed to a birdwatching date.

Josephine Dawson, with him?!

(chuckling)

Rose-breasted grosbeak!

Oh, a fine example, Plumlee!

I dare say I caught a glimpse of it a hair before you even.

Nonsense.

I'm putting it in my life list.

June 17th, 7:45 a.m.

Rose-breasted grosbeak.

We can both put it in our life lists, my good man.

Only I'll mark my sighting down for 7:44 a.m.

You are a devil.

(gasp) Ooh! What is this fellow... ?

Oh, dear.

(g*nshots echo)

Well, this was no hunting accident.

This is Alistair Plumlee and Gilford Harrison.

The two were set to testify against Rex Grey next week.

These are the men who witnessed Mr. Grey sh**t his business partner last month?

Well, two of the three witnesses.

I daresay their timely deaths are no accident.

Sir, we've been unable to find anything.

The gunman hasn't left so much as a footprint behind.

Thank you, George. And apparently we don't have much to go on.

Once I get the bodies to the morgue, hopefully I can provide more specifics.

Sir. The Rex Grey case... doesn't that belong to Station Three?

Crown Prosecutor Daniels turned it over to me.

Unfortunately, I've had no more luck than they did.

Best do our darnedest to keep the last witness safe I suppose.

That's precisely what I was thinking, George.

And I can think of no one better suited for this important task than you.

Thank you, sir.

I'll do whatever I can to keep our prized witness safe over the weekend.

Who is he, exactly?

Roger Newsome?

Of the Mimico Newsomes.

George Crabtree.

An entire weekend together... at last!

I trust somebody will transport these for me?

Sir, I am begging you to assign another constable.

Surely you can set aside your history with Mr. Newsome for the weekend.

Sir, too much history has accrued.

While investigating his auto club he ignored my pleas for help as I was being strangled.

I was having the life throttled out of me and he ran off in abject cowardice.

Not to mention the grief he caused while we were investigating his golf club and his puzzle club.

George, you have overcome far greater challenges during your time here.

Sir, I honestly don't believe that I have.

I really think my hatred for Mr. Newsome is such that should the k*ller try to k*ll him, my subconscious could overtake my ability to prevent such an incident.

I would be complicit in his m*rder against my will. Sir, you would have to arrest me.

The concession I've made is this.

Henry will assist you to help ease the burden.

Higgins? Sir, you're taking me out of the pot and putting me in the fire.

I might as well watch Newsome on my own.

Crown Prosecutor Daniels has authorized the three of you to stay at the Windsor House Hotel ahead of the trial.

I will be nearby to make sure your subconscious doesn't get the best of you.

Sir.

The air was still damp with mist, my shaded spectacles shielding me from the morning sun.

We had been out for an hour already and observed nothing more than a decrepit old blue jay with a crooked beak.

I forged ahead toward the marsh, where ever so faintly, I heard a cat-like...

(makes meowing nose)

Harrison and Plumlee missed it.

As though it were meant for me alone.

I raised my binoculars and there she was.

The Inca Tern in all her glory, moustache and all.

Wow. It must have been beautiful.

I got as near as I could to take photographs.

Photographs that prove I spotted the only known Inca Tern in all of North America.

I shall be renowned in ornithology circles.

Revered, even.

I only wish I had more time with the great beauty.

Yes, but you were interrupted by a m*rder.

Oh yes, that.

Of all mornings for Rex Grey to act upon his murderous impulses.

I'm surprised you're so dismissive, Newsome.

All the reasons why your fellow birdwatchers were k*lled, they're equally as applicable to you.

I suppose I am in danger, aren't I?

You'll be safe with us. Let's get to the hotel.

But if the constabulary had more evidence, you wouldn't require my testimony?

Well, we don't.

We don't have so much as a m*rder w*apon, so don't think you're going to weasel your way out of testifying.

What if I...

You liar!

You bloody liar, you!

Hey, hey, hey! Get back, sir!

Shame on you, Mr. Newsome!

Shame, shame, shame!

The shame is all yours for those dreadful trousers.

I'll get the better of you, Roger.

Off you go, little Stanley Faber!

What's that all about?

Oh, nothing, not even worth the breath.

Did you see those trousers?

(chortling)

Dr. Ogden, Miss James. What have you?

Given the calibre of the b*ll*ts used, I believe these men were sh*t from some distance using a precision r*fle.

Forty-five calibre?

Indeed, Detective.

Both b*ll*ts were in almost almost the exact same spot in their chests, suggesting they were sh*t in quick succession.

The second victim hardly had time to move after the first one was sh*t.

Which is in line with my suspicion.

Rex Grey has hired a trained k*ller to eliminate the witnesses.

Not up to my usual standards to be sure, but I suppose I can endure.

It's not a vacation, Mr. Newsome.

Oh please, call me Roger.

Are we not well-enough acquainted by now, George?

No, we aren't, and I don't think we ever will be.

You can call me Henry. I don't mind.

Why thank you, Henry. I shall, Henry.

So, what are we going to do this evening?

We're going to ensure that Mr. Newsome doesn't come to any harm.

Yes, but what do we do while we do that?

Nothing, I suppose.

"Nothing"?

Roger Newsome does not do "nothing" on a Friday evening.

If we are confined to this... room, we might at least host a dinner party.

Absolutely not. Nobody's supposed to know where you are, Roger. That's the whole point.

You called me Roger.

Have you told anybody that you're here?

(knocking)

Well, I could hardly just disappear.

Ruthie!

Oh, Roger!

(both make loud kissing noises)

May I present my sister, Ruth Newsome, of the esteemed...

Of the Mimico Newsome's.

Roger is so thrilled to be joining the Constabulary.

So I just, well, I had to come and see what it was all about.

He hasn't "joined" the constabulary, Miss Newsome.

Ruth, this is Constable Crabtree.

The bright, young, unmarried constable I was telling you about.

And what about this one?

Yes, that's Constable Higgins, but Constable Crabtree is my dear friend.

A top chum.

Miss Newsome, you have to leave. And I implore that you not tell anybody your brother's location.

Unhand me, you brute!

Ruth!

Constable Crabtree is merely doing his job.

I'm sure if I arrange for the two of you to socialize in a more casual setting you will see what a fine gentleman he is.

Newsome, that's enough, thank you.

Oh heavens, Roger. No, no, no.

You must promise me you'll get a haircut before your presentation this weekend.

You really look a fright.

Yes, I know.

I promise!

(both make loud kissing noises)

Goodbye, Constable Higgins.

Miss Newsome.

Miss Newsome.

What presentation?

Well I'm to present my Inca Tern findings to the ornithology community this weekend.

You are not to leave this room until the trial, Mr. Newsome.

But I've already booked the hall and sent invitations.

All the top birders will be there!

All the top birders will have to wait.

I know what you're trying to do, Mr. Grey.

You have a trained k*ller on the outside trying to eliminate all of the witnesses that agree to testify against you.

That's news to me.

I am going to find this gunman, and when I do, I'll establish a link to you.

And you'll be held responsible for not one m*rder but three.

And if you don't find him?

Is that an admission that you hired the gunman?

(laughing): No. Of course it isn't.

But if you let me out of here, I'll ask around for you.

Make your job a little easier.

I know you've had trouble with my case, Detective.

You're never going to see the streets of Toronto again.

I have an idea.

What's that?

Let me borrow your uniform.

Why?

So I can go for a haircut, in disguise.

The k*ller would never sh**t a constable.

You'll not be giving a bird presentation, Newsome, so you needn't worry about your hair.

Well, I can no sooner go to court looking like this!

As soon as Rex Grey is in a penitentiary, you can have all the haircuts you want.

Until then, nobody cares about you or your hair, just your testimony.

(Henry snoring)

I'm hungry.

I suppose it is that time.

I'll get our dinner.

Thank you, George.

Oi, Higgins, I'm off to get our supper.

Alright.

Make sure he doesn't leave.

Alright.

(Henry resumes snoring)

Henry, I'm going for a haircut.

Bye.

(door unlatches) Henry?

Yes, Detective?

Where's George?

He went to get supper, sir.

And took Mr. Newsome with him?

Yes. No!

Roger must have gone out for a haircut, sir.

He's left the building?!

Sir, there he is.

Henry. The balcony. The sh**t!

Sir.

Mr. Newsome, get down!

Mr. Newsome, GET DOWN!

(g*nsh*t)

Get up, get up!

(g*nsh*t, screams)

g*nshots, get down!

Mr. Newsome, are you hit?

No, I'm alright, thank heavens.

I merely wanted a haircut.

Yes, well...

Ruth said my hair...

I merely wanted a haircut before my presentation.

Inca Tern...

(meows weakly)

Tell George...

I had a bird's eye view.

Bird's...

Eye...

No.

View.

No, no. Mr. Newsome!

Bird's eye view?

That's right. He said: "Tell George I had a bird's eye view."

I'm sorry, I can't imagine what that means.

Well, he was dying. Perhaps it was simply a delusion.

Tell me we have something, Detective.

I am terribly sorry, Mr. Daniels, but the sh**t got away without a trace.

Again?!

You're telling me he left nothing behind for us?

Sir, he is meticulous.

A professional, if you will.

It was going to be difficult enough to prosecute Mr. Grey without the m*rder w*apon. Now I don't have any witnesses, either.

Mr. Newsome was a pain in the neck, but I wish he'd survived.

What if he had?

Had what?

Survived. What if he was still alive?

What in heavens are you talking about?

You just told me the man d*ed in your arms.

But at this point, no one else knows that.

What if we created the illusion that Mr. Newsome survived the sh**ting and was still determined to testify against Mr. Grey?

How does that help me? I can't put a corpse on the stand.

No, but if we present him all about town as if he is still alive, perhaps the k*ller will try to k*ll him again.

Exactly.

If we can catch the k*ller in the process of trying to re-k*ll Mr. Newsome, then perhaps we can force him to testify against Mr. Grey.

You want to parade a dead man around town in hopes that his m*rder*r tries to m*rder him again?

Yes.

Well it's mad, but if you can get permission from his next of kin, give it a try.

George, perhaps you can get permission from his next of kin.

Sir, might I suggest that request come from Henry Higgins?

Newsome's sister took quite a liking to him.

Very well.

Perhaps Henry will embrace the opportunity to redeem himself.

Let me begin by saying how very sorry I am for your loss, Miss Newsome.

I will miss him dearly. But I am glad he got to fulfill his desire to be a constable in his last days.

Yes. Actually, there is more he can do to help the Constabulary.

How do you mean?

Well, Miss Newsome, with your permission we would like to try to bring Roger back to life, resurrect him, if you will, so he may continue to help us with our case against Rex Grey.

The plan would be to try to fool...

Oh, thank heavens!

Oh, yes, yes, yes, of course I permit!

I most certainly permit!

Well, that was easy!

I get my beloved Roger back!

You can revive him!

When may I see him?

Wait now, Miss Newsome...

My darling brother!

Roger and I will grow old together after all.

Hold on, Miss Newsome...

And you!

I can't thank you enough for this great gift, Henry Higgins.

The gift of life.

I think you must have misunderstood what I'm trying to ask you, Miss Newsome.

You see, Ro...

You see, Roger is indeed dead.

We cannot literally bring him back to life.

No?

No. That's impossible.

We would merely like to pretend he's alive in order to catch his k*ller.

Pretend?

Oh.

So, may we have your permission to present Roger around town as if he were alive?

It really is our best hope to catch his k*ller.

You're going to take Roger out in public?

Yes.

I have one condition.

I don't believe I've given anyone a haircut before.

It's quite fun.

And I've never applied makeup to a corpse.

You could moonlight as a mortician, Miss James.

Between this and my studies, I'm doing more than enough moonlighting, I should think.

I can almost see the life returning to his cheeks, Miss James.

William, where do you get your hair cut?

I don't believe you have ever mentioned going to the barber.

Oh, it's nowhere special.

Surely the barber shop has a name.

I can't recall.

You, William Murdoch, the man who remembers everything, cannot recall where he has his hair cut?

No, I don't. I prefer to use my mind for more important things.

Alright.

I was just curious.

Well, I feel as though I'm being interrogated, Julia.

And I feel as if I'm being lied to.

Dr. Ogden, is that enough rouge?

A touch more, Miss James.

Perhaps you cut your own hair, is that it?

No.

It is, isn't it?

No, it isn't.

It would be tremendously difficult to get the back even.

Perhaps your hair simply doesn't grow.

You've never been to the barber.

Mrs. Kitchen.

Mrs. Kitchen, the landlady?

I return to my boarding house every other Wednesday at lunch to have my hair cut.

Well, now that I'm an expert perhaps you'll allow me next time?

Oh, no, thank you.

Then I would be without an excuse to have her beef stew.

The truth emerges.

There.

This wheeled chair will allow Mr. Newsome some natural movements, such as waving his hands.

I've opted for the royal wave.

The person pushing the wheelchair controls the movements very discreetly by adjusting these knobs.

And he's fresh from the barber.

Now that rigor has passed, he's ready for the town!

Unfortunately, Mr. Newsome lost the use of his legs after the sh**ting. We hope it's only temporary, and in the meantime, Detective Murdoch has outfitted him with a special wheeled chair.

And he's still willing to testify against Mr. Grey?

Yes. He's more determined now than ever, Miss Cherry.

How can you be sure that the man who sh*t Mr. Newsome is in fact working for Mr. Grey?

Well, we can't prove it yet, but the three witnesses set to testify against him being sh*t just prior to the trial... a difficult coincidence to overlook.

You mentioned that Mr. Newsome had been placed in seclusion at the Windsor House Hotel, under your supervision.

How did he come to be sh*t on the street?

Yes, that. Well, he had some important matters to see to, vital to the preparation of the trial.

It sadly couldn't be avoided.

Forgive me for asking, but does Mr. Newsome fault you or the constabulary for his current predicament?

He hasn't said so.

Well, keep me abreast, Constable.

Miss Cherry. Will do.

Well done, George. Heck of a yarn you wove for her.

Yes, I suppose so.

What's the matter?

It's all a big lie, isn't it?

Yes, I know. It's great.

Yes, but the truth will come out eventually.

What will she think of me then?

What does she think of you now?

I don't know.

Well, if it helps us catch two K*llers, is it not worth it?

Gentleman, say hello to Roger Newsome.

Hello.

Oh my goodness!

You can't make him talk, can you sir?

(knobs squeaking)

No, Henry.

As you can see, I have customized this wheeled chair so that its operator can manipulate Mr. Newsome's movements.

Sir, it's nothing short of remarkable.

Very inventive.

But how exactly are we going to lure out Rex Grey's man?

Actually, I have given that considerable thought.

As a result of the newspaper article, the gunman likely knows Mr. Newsome is staying at the Windsor House. And we know the gunman's modus operandi is to sh**t his targets from a distance like a sn*per. We can use that to our advantage. We will roll Mr. Newsome all the way to the Windsor House, allowing everyone a good look at him to see that he is indeed alive. Once there, Dr. Ogden and I will set him up for dinner in our suite, conveniently seating him in front of the window, thus allowing the gunman a clean sh*t from the building next door. Meanwhile, you two will have discreetly secured the building next door. When the gunman tries to make his escape, he should run right into your arms. Now don't forget, he is armed, so you must make a stop at the armory yourselves.

Well, let's hope it works.

Oh, I'm quite confident it will.

So you'll make a new plan.

You always do.

But I liked this plan, Julia.

Perhaps the sh**t realized that the building next door had been secured.

Or he realized Mr. Newsome was in fact already dead.

A sobering thought.

You barely touched your roast chicken, Mr. Newsome.

Was something the matter?

(as Newsome): I suppose I lacked an appetite, knowing I was going to be sh*t any moment.

Or rather he mistakenly thought you'd prepared it.

(phone rings)

Detective Murdoch.

Yes, George, please come and collect Mr. Newsome and bring him to the morgue's cold storage for the night.

Higgins...

George, catch him!

Oh Higgins, his hand went in my mouth!

Come on, George. OK. Here we go.

Higgins, try to move his feet.

His feet, like this.

Mr. Newsome, I wager the Detective would make some interesting dinner conversation?

I've never dined with him myself, you see.

Higgins, why are you talking to him?

George, we have to pretend he's alive!

I imagine the doctor would have been in her evening wear?

All right, Higgins, that's enough.

Let's just get him in the chair.

OK.

(g*nsh*t)

Roger! Mr. Newsome, are you OK?!

Higgins, go after the gunman!

Another forty-five calibre, Detective.

Pierced his heart. Surely would have been fatal, if he were not already dead, of course.

Thank you.

Once again, this is all the gunman's left behind for us.

It would appear the ruse is up, William.

The gunman must be convinced of Mr. Newsome's death by now.

Not necessarily.

My b*llet resistant vest.

g*n please.

Ears.

(g*nsh*t)

So if Mr. Newsome had've been wearing this, last night's sh**ting would not have been fatal.

Hypothetically.

Hypothetically.

So, should Miss James and I revive him once again?

If you would, please.

How do we convince the k*ller that Newsome was wearing this?

Have your newspaper friend write another article about how Mr. Newsome survived yet again.

Obviously the sh**t took notice of the first article.

Right.

And here it is.

Goodness, the constabulary surely thought of everything.

It's an original invention of Detective Murdoch's.

Made out of metal and silk.

(camera clicks)

And now it's saved Mr. Newsome's life.

That's right.

And even after this latest brush with death, you still believe he'll testify?

He insists.

I would surely like to interview him.

A couple of quotes would spruce up my story.

That will not possible. You see, Miss Cherry, the vest... while it did save the man's life, the sheer impact of it, the b*llet broke one of his ribs and speaking is very painful.

Even his breathing is not noticeable.

Very well.

Why are you bringing these stories to me, of all reporters?

You wouldn't be finding excuses to see more often, would you, Constable?

No, that's not the reason.

I mean, I very much enjoy your company, but I'm under direct orders from Detective Murdoch.

Well sh**t, George, if we had thought to put this on Roger Newsome, he might still be alive!

Oh, Henry!

So he wasn't wearing this last night?

No.

Constable Crabtree?

He was not.

So he's dead...

And has been this entire time.

Uh oh.

Yes, but... Wait, Miss Cherry!

Miss Cherry, wait! Please, wait!

I unwittingly lied to my readers thanks to you.

I know. I'm sorry. I didn't want to do it.

Perhaps I'll write a story of how the Constabulary deceive the public!

How would you like that?

I would not like that.

But I have a proposition.

If you print the story of Mr. Newsome surviving again, then when the trial is over, I will give you and only you the whole true story, the story of how the Constabulary brought a corpse back to life to catch a k*ller and bring Rex Grey to justice.

I've covered Mr. Grey before, and I know full well how evil he is.

If this will help send him to the gallows then I suppose I should do my part.

But you do owe me, Constable Crabtree.

Miss Cherry.

We need to get Mr. Newsome out into the open, but in an enclosed space so that we can catch the k*ller.

I wonder if we can create some sort of event for Mr. Newsome to attend.

Sir, we may not have to create one.

Just prior to his death, Mr. Newsome was determined to follow through with this presentation he was to give tonight on the fancy bird that he discovered.

Right.

Why don't we let him?

Is it too late to get a mention of it in the latest newspaper article?

I shouldn't think so, sir. However... if the k*ller was too cautious to take a sh*t at the hotel, why would he tonight at the presentation?

Just as it is may very well be our last chance to trap the gunman, it's also the gunman's last chance to k*ll Mr. Newsome.

Right. And Grey must be leaning on his man to finish the job with the trial right around the corner.

But how is Mr. Newsome going to present?

He remains, after all, a corpse.

Perhaps I'll present for him, sir.

I'll wheel the sitting duck out there and then explain to the audience that Newsome can't speak due to a broken rib.

I'll be his voice.

Very good, George.

Very good.

I suppose you had better brush up on your ornithology before then.

I rather look forward to it.

I do hope Mr. Newsome's hair is satisfactory after my little trim.

Yes, Julia, I've been meaning to speak to you about something.

What is it?

If it means that much to you, the next time I need 0a haircut...

(gasps delightedly)

What about Mrs. Kitchen's beef stew?

Well...

I could request her recipe.

(Murdoch stammers)

We really should be off.

On our date.

We're there to catch a k*ller.

We must be mindful of our surroundings.

Well, we'll have to be love-birds after work then.

Henry, I need you, along with the other constables to station yourselves out here, ready to apprehend the gunman should he escape.

Yes, sir.

Now, I have sealed off the back so you need only be mindful of the front and side entrances.

It's good thinking, sir.

It's an interesting bird, this Inca Tern.

If he sh**t, you will be able to hear it from outside, so ready yourself along with the other constables to apprehend the gunman.

(George meowing uncertainly)

George?

Sir, I'm trying to perfect the Inca Tern's unusual cat-like call.

Alright, let's position ourselves inside, and get ready. Henry, don't let him escape.

The air was still, damp with mist.

I'm sorry, the air was still damp with mist.

Mr. Newsome had been out for more than an hour and seen nothing but a crooked-beaked blue jay.

But something compelled him to push on, a calling if you will.

Excuse me... nay, not a calling. Something more powerful.

And so Mr. Newsome bravely forged on.

It was then he heard a faint cat-like meow coming from a tree.

(George meows, audience laughs)

He approached the tree quietly and he saw this!

(crowd gasps)

The Inca Tern!

The first ever observed in North America.

A momentous ornithological discovery, calling into question all we thought we knew about migratory patterns!

(clapping)

Nonsense! Nonsense!

What you are claiming, Mr. Newsome, is a lie.

It's impossible!

Mr. Faber, how can you argue against this photograph?

Clearly taken in Toronto.

I don't know, but it can't be real!

Well, I assure you, sir, it is.

I want to hear it from Mr. Newsome himself, not his mouthpiece!

(g*nsh*t)

Stop!

Sir! Sir! I got him!

I stopped him, just like you said.

He's dead.

We needed him ALIVE, Henry!

I'm sorry, sir.

Same calibre as the b*ll*ts taken from the other two witnesses.

Leaving little doubt their k*ller is the same man.

And even less doubt that he's working for Rex Grey.

Yet we can't establish a definitive link.

Sir, without witnesses to testify, is he just going to walk free?

Unfortunately, I see no choice but to telephone Crown Prosecutor Daniels and tell him the charade is over.

(phone rings)

I solved the case!

I solved the case!

To which case are you referring, Mr. Faber?

This is Roger's grand discovery!

A dead Inca Tern!

I told you he was lying!

Well, how can you be sure this is the bird that Mr. Newsome photographed?

Because I got it from his house.

Ruth Newsome gave you this?

No.

You broke in then?

No, I would never do such thing.

I found an open window.

So it's a stuffed bird. Why are you so intent on ruining the reputation of a dead man?

Because I knew that the Inca Tern couldn't possibly be in Toronto, yet everyone chose to believe Roger instead.

How can you be sure?

Because, the Inca Tern is native to South America and restricted by the Humboldt Current.

Making its way to Canada would be an impossibility.

The fool!

If he knew anything about birds he would have at least chosen one that could conceivably make it here.

So you believe Mr. Newsome had the bird shipped from South America so he could discover it in Canada.

Yes! And it likely d*ed en route, making him a bird k*ller, too.

So he then stuffed the bird, placed it up a tree and discovered it anyway.

Yes! Yes! Exactly!

But for him to place the bird in the tree, he would have to climb it.

I had a bird's eye view.

Bird's... eye... view.

"Bird's eye view."

Sir?

Mr. Newsome's dying words. At first, I wasn't sure what he meant, but he may have been trying to tell us that he saw something more from atop the tree where he placed this bird.

Sir, he did at one point hint to me that he knew something more about the case.

I thought he was trying to weasel his way out of testifying.

We have to find that tree.

How will we do that?

Bring along Mr. Newsome's photographs.

Yes, yes, let's do that.

And you, Mr. Faber, will be staying here, being booked for breaking in and stealing Mr. Newsome's bird.

But... But I solved the case.

Gimme that bird.

So, Mr. Newsome saw the bird and photographed it early in the morning?

That's right, sir, the air was still damp with mist.

So...

The sun would have been coming from that direction, which means that could be our tree.

Sir, I'm surprised Newsome would climb a tree in the first place. he seemed so particular about his trousers.

What I don't understand is if Mr. Newsome did see something, why not simply tell us instead of risking his life to testify?

Yes, but sir, this is a man who at the puzzle club had us all believing that he was a k*ller just so we would also think he was the first one to solve the puzzle.

Prideful man, I suppose.

Hmm.

Could this feather be from our bird?

Sir, that white tip?

That's as unmistakable as the Inca Tern's red beak and white moustache.

Ah, yes.

Yes, this is it, George.

This is where Mr. Newsome planted his bird in the tree before leading his fellow bird watchers back here to witness him making his false discovery.

Having no idea they would be about to see Rex Grey m*rder his business partner in the distance.

At which time they immediately fled, leaving his precious bird behind.

Newsome perhaps retrieved it later that day, sir. When the police were gone.

And when he did, he would have had the same vantage point of the m*rder scene that I do now.

It would have been roughly the same time of day...

George, I believe we may have what we need to convict Mr. Grey.

Without any witness testimony or evidence to speak of, I see no choice but to release Mr. Grey.

Thank you, Your Honour.

(whispering): I told you.

I am not happy about this.

(knocking at door)

Mr. Daniels, your office said we might find you here.

Detective Murdoch.

Did you come to see off Mr. Grey now that he's about to be released?

Quite the opposite, actually.

The m*rder w*apon.

Found near the scene of the crime, complete with Mr. Grey's fingermarks on it.

And the b*ll*ts match the one found in his partner.

Your Honour, I do believe we should proceed with the trial.

See you bright and early, Mr. Grey.

Why the bird?

I was going to try to explain how we came to find the g*n.

This bird had a hand in it, but it's perhaps too long a story now.

Then save it for the stand, Constable.

You want me to testify?

Why yes.

And bring your bird.

You can thank Mr. Newsome for this, Mr. Grey.

That's Roger Newsome.

Of the Mimico Newsomes.

I've had my share of run-ins with Mr. Newsome over the recent years, and I have to say: only now, in death, have I grown to admire the man.

For with his dying words, he helped the constabulary catch a k*ller.

And so, now, I hope that Mr. Newsome is looking down on us with pride from his newly-found "bird's eye view".

And now, for some closing remarks, I would like to call on Detective William Murdoch.

Go ahead, William.

I hardly knew the man.

You spent the whole weekend with him!

I recently had occasion to dine with Mr. Newsome, and I can say that his table manners were exemplary.

Bravo! Yes. Bravo!

(unsure applause)

I truly am sorry we weren't able to bring Roger back for you, Miss Newsome.

Oh?

Just how sorry are you, Henry?

Miss Cherry, I didn't even see you back here.

A good reporter knows how to go unnoticed.

I suppose I owe you a story.

I have the time if you have the inclination.

Alright then.

I told you this would be fun.

This is a hobby for people with entirely too much time on their hands.

Not a city coroner or a police detective.

One must strike a balance between work and leisure, William.

It's a bit too leisurely.

Now if only we could find a bird to watch.

Birds are everywhere.

You see them walking to your grocer.

I don't understand travelling all this way to see something that's all around?

Yes but here we can observe them in their natural habitat.

But why?

Birds behave the same here as they do in the city.

They will fly, they'll perch, they'll sing.

Surely you can appreciate the tranquility of the setting, at least!

Yes, well, it is quiet...

And secluded.

William!

Someone might see us!

(gasp) Look, William!

It's a North American Goldfinch!

Or is it merely a Yellow Warbler?

Regardless, it's magnificent.

Oh! What a thrill!

William?