The Murdoch Mysteries (2004) s15e10 Episode Script

Mr.
Denison, how does it feel to receive the Joseph Skratz award? Absolutely wonderful.
Thank you! In many ways, Skratz and I are one and the same.
Skratz was a pioneer, a journalist with gumption, dead set on taking down the corruption in this city.
With my cartoons, I dare to carry on his legacy.
That's why they call me the most hated man in Toronto.
The ego of that man.
Comparing himself to Skratz.
Thank you for inviting me to this.
As I recall, you invited yourself.
Well, when you mentioned it at volleyball, I thought what a perfect opportunity to pursue funding for the women's clinic.
Relentless as always, Doctor.
I prefer pleasantly persuasive.
Who will be your first victim? Councilman Rekker from the Board of Control.
Rumour has it he's an easy sell.
Good.
Wish me luck.
- Mr.
Rekker? It's wonderful to meet you.
- Oh! Charmed.
Um, who may you be? - Dr.
Julia Ogden.
- Ah! And you're here to ask me for money.
I'm here to ask you to change lives.
Cherry, did you really publish that anti-viaduct drivel yesterday? Don't start with me, Fox.
You know, for the life of me, I can't understand why you'd be against progress.
Because some things are more important than money.
Since when? You know, that sentimentality is unbecoming, Cherry.
It has nothing to do with that.
I'm on the side of the people.
Trying on some new shoes, are we? Miss Cherry, who's your friend? Dr.
Julia Ogden, this is Kole Fox.
Kole Fox, Dr.
Julia Ogden.
- How do you do, ma'am? - Charmed, I'm sure.
Fox and I worked together at Skratz's first printing press.
- He was our mentor.
- He's a genius.
The world of journalism hasn't been the same since he retired.
Is he here today? He sailed for Kuala Lumpur two years ago.
Fox, have you heard anything from Skratz since he left? The favourite pupil hasn't even received so much as a postcard from her beloved mentor? I guess he didn't like you as much as he put on.
What is going on with you two? - What do you mean? - He likes you.
Don't be daft, Julia.
Your wicked cartoons have ruined my life! You see what I mean.
You think this is a joke? - My life is ruined! - Correction, you've ruined yourself.
Your life would still be in order - had you not been corrupt.
- How dare you! Ladies and gentlemen, may my tongue be ever sharp and my pen ever swift.
Make sure to favour my right side, it is more flattering.
Oh, goodness.
Mr.
Denison? Dear God! Mr.
Denison? Mr.
Denison? Hold on.
Hold on! - Please step aside.
- He's through here.
Miss Cherry.
It seems he was shot through the neck.
From this angle, the bullet would have nicked his carotid artery.
And that would explain why he bled to death so quickly.
Do you know of anyone who'd have wanted to hurt him? It would be easier to ask who didn't.
As Denison loved to say, he was the most hated man in Toronto.
He had a political cartoon column in the Toronto Sentinel Newspaper.
Quite scandalous.
Yes, I know of that one.
Has Toronto all a titter on a regular basis.
No one has gone in, or out, since.
So, whoever killed him is still in this room.
George? Sir.
Bring them in.
- All of them, sir? - All of them.
Sir.
So, it's true.
You're the one in charge.
Who are you? How did you get in here? Please, just a moment of your time.
I have but one question.
Ask the question and I'll decide whether I answer.
Miss Miss Cassiopeia Bright.
How did you get where you are? - I'm not sure what you mean.
- You are like me, but yet have achieved all of this.
All of what? Your job.
Your position.
Hard work.
Things are not so simple for us.
You know that.
- I'm not sure I can help you.
- I've worked hard all my life.
A university education, top marks.
I've opened two businesses, both have closed.
And yet you have it all.
- There must be something else.
- What do you want from me? Nothing, I just want to know how you got what you have.
If you're suggesting that I have done something nefarious.
I certainly am not.
But now that it's been mentioned I'd be pleased if you would leave, Miss Bright.
My mistake.
I'm required to attend events like this due to my position as city councilor, so, uh, I presented awards to the winners.
That's all.
Had you ever met Mr.
Denison? I'd heard of his cartoon, but I'd never met him before today.
Were you ever the target of one of his cartoons? Of course not.
But a few of my colleagues have been rightfully lambasted.
What were the effects of the cartoons? They destroyed my construction company.
Denison was targeting me.
Look at this.
Now everybody believes I cut corners.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
I've lost all my government contracts and I'm not being considered for the new viaduct project that's being talked about.
Perhaps you wanted Mr.
Denison to feel some of the pain that you were feeling? I just wanted to thump him up a bit, not kill him.
Anyway, I was dragged to the back of the room before I could even raise a fist.
At any rate the bad blood between the two of you was clear.
An occasional dust up between colleagues, at most.
We work for the same publication, which his father owned.
- So, you had no reason to want him dead? - Of course not.
Crying shame, this business.
You know, he may have been a rich blowhard, but I admired his work.
He was a clever chap who never backed down.
- You respected him? - I wouldn't say that.
I didn't know the man at all.
I was sent by my publisher to cover the function and that's the long and short of it.
You're both journalists.
He's a cartoonist.
Still You two really have never met? I've never laid eyes on him before in my life.
So, Detective, are you going to arrest me? No, Julia, this is a formality.
I do have to follow procedure - and ask you a few questions.
- Of course, I'd expect no less.
But should I not be in handcuffs? Julia.
Do you recall which direction the shot came from? William, I would have told you at the time.
Why were you at this event? I went with Miss Cherry.
I couldn't pass up the opportunity - to champion the women's clinic.
- Oh! And? I was able to get Councilman Rekker to agree to help.
- So, a success then? - Yes.
Well, except for the murder.
Detective Watts, how do you do? - Oh, Mr.
Strange.
- Please, call me Milo.
Well, then, feel free to call me Llewellyn.
A magnificent name.
Like a Celtic deity descended upon us.
Oh, I assure you I am but a bumbling mortal.
I so enjoyed our last encounter.
We are overdue for an encore.
Yes, I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you.
- Things have been busy.
- No matter.
Have you heard about the Mahler concert? - He's touring his - 7th Symphony.
Of course, Mahler's compositions are so rich! - Romantic.
- Unmatched! I've been trying to get tickets for weeks, but it's impossible.
Well, that settles it.
Would you like to accompany me? Absolutely! I wouldn't miss it.
It's a date.
How's it going, Murdoch? Not much headway, I'm afraid.
I've sent Henry to help George find the gun and bullet.
- No sign of either? - Gentlemen.
Bourbon? Scotch.
Too peaty for me.
I'd take a Maker's over that stuff any day.
I don't like the face on that one.
A little bit too sleeky for me.
He is quite easy on the eyes.
Julia, please.
You're like Cupid if Cupid was a mosquito.
Ladies! Have you finished with your witness statements? - Here's mine.
- Very good.
Very good.
Oh! Ms.
Cherry, you've neglected to sign yours.
Oh, bother.
Can I borrow a pen? Oh! - There you are.
- I'll see you this evening? Yes.
Oh! Miss Cherry, you've taken Hm.
All right, remember, Higgins: we've got to find the gun and the bullet, so look everywhere.
They've got to be in here somewhere.
Well, this is hopeless.
How are we supposed to find - a tiny bullet in this room? - Just start looking.
You know, Higgins, I was wondering if, uh I think I might introduce Effie to my family.
You don't have a family.
Ah, yes I do! Higgins, my aunts! Aren't most of them on the lam? Oh, perhaps two of them.
Or perhaps three of them.
I think there's a warrant out for Fern.
Again.
Higgins.
Have a look at this.
"R.
S.
D.
third.
" It belonged to the victim.
"Evening Cartoon" with today's date on it.
It's empty.
This envelope must have contained the next cartoon - to be published in the paper.
- And somebody stole it? Possibly Mr.
Locke to prevent the cartoonist's next attack.
Do you think he murdered him to get to the cartoon? - It's a strong possibility.
- Sirs.
There's a new cartoon in the newspaper.
The missing one? Very likely.
But that's not Mr.
Locke.
It's Councilman Rekker.
And is that who I think it is? Councilman Rekker with Mrs.
Corinne Abbott.
The mayor's wife? Bloody hell.
The randy old dog.
Looks like you've got your prime suspect, Murdoch.
Well, I'm here, Murdoch.
This better be important.
Councilman, did you know that you were the target of Denison's next cartoon? Of course I didn't know about this outrage! I would have stopped it dead in its tracks.
Strong motive for murder.
I swear, as God is my witness, I had no idea Denison was drawing these lies about me.
And as for you, Detective, I hope you don't believe - this disgusting smut.
- I have no opinion either way.
Well, I can assure you, my relationship with Mrs.
Abbott has been blown entirely out of proportion.
Do I take this to mean that there is a certain degree of truth? I've had quite enough of this.
I am leaving.
- Sir? - Either charge me or let me go.
- I'll be in touch.
- With a full apology, I trust.
And you can tell your wife I've forgotten the conversation we had earlier.
I spoke with the publisher of the Sentinel.
He claims not to know where the cartoon came from.
Denison usually walked them in himself, but this one mysteriously showed up without anyone seeing who left it.
The first copy of the cartoon was stolen from Denison's satchel by the killer, who then must have destroyed it.
Which means the publisher received the second copy.
Question is: who left it? What is it, Watts? Well, Inspector, I find myself in a predicament.
Go on.
I'm all ears.
I have plans later that I'm uncertain about.
What kind of plans? The Mahler Symphony.
Marvelous! You should go! Why wouldn't you? Well, I'm supposed to go with a New friend.
Oh, no.
I don't think I want to hear about this.
I know.
I understand.
Oh! Just hold your horses, Watts.
- You've started.
You might as well finish.
- Right.
I've been invited to the Mahler Symphony, which I've been longing to attend.
However, if I go, I fear I will give my friend the wrong idea.
Are you no longer in good standing with the butcher? That is precisely the predicament, Inspector.
We are.
I am.
I don't want to seem dishonest.
Well, it it's not a predicament if it's two friends with a shared interest.
No funny business about that.
You're right.
I'm ruminating excessively.
Just two friends enjoying a show.
- Two friends.
- No need to worry.
Just don't be holding hands.
The exit wound from the bullet is unusually small.
Smallest I've seen.
Have you determined the diameter? Exactly six millimeters.
These wounds should be much larger.
I'll need my twine.
I think I know where this is going.
We know that the entry wound was lower than the exit wound, therefore the bullet travelled on an upward trajectory.
Which means It would have gone roughly Here.
Ah.
And there it is.
- Well, I'll be! - That's an odd colour.
Look at that.
Right, then.
Based on the trajectory that we've established, Henry, pull it tight.
Hmm, no, lower.
We know that the shot came from this side of the room.
It was held waist high, as to conceal the weapon, and aimed upward.
Sir, there is somebody else in the photograph.
- Could it be this man? - Let me see that.
Well, no, George.
That person was on the other side of the camera.
Wait.
That's Councilman Rekker.
So, the shooter was on this side of the room, but Rekker was on this side? Correct, George.
Based on his location and the fact that we can see his hands, there's no way Rekker could have taken the shot.
What are you doing? Minding my business.
You're following me.
Only because I have another question.
I didn't take you for the type to ask just one.
May I take you to lunch? You can't afford me.
Well, then, you shall take me to lunch.
And why should I do that? I want you to mentor me.
I want to become something, someone important, - someone like you.
- I'm sorry, Miss Bright.
I can't help you.
It's hard enough for me as it is.
Yes.
It is hard for us all.
I'm sorry to bother you.
Fine.
Get in.
A start, I suppose.
So, Miss Bright, tell me about yourself.
- Where do you come from? - Halifax.
Africville, to be exact.
And you? Here and there.
Everywhere.
What have you got, Murdoch? It's a chromatogram, sir.
- It was invented by the late - Just tell me what you're doing.
I am separating the plant pigments present in this solution.
It has separated itself into green, yellow and orange, a trait indicative of ink.
Why are you testing for ink? That is what was coating this bullet, sir.
Burnt on.
Strange.
How would ink get onto a bullet? Perhaps the killer dipped it in ink as a symbolic gesture? He who lives by the pen dies by the pen? Something like that.
It was also filed into a very sharp point for maximum penetration.
My guess is the weapon used would have been also quite small.
Then perhaps not a gun at all.
- Here.
- Councilman Rekker! Is now a good time to finalize that funding? Why should I help you? Oh! Well, because there are thousands of underserved women in this city who deserve care and because you are a councilman dedicated to making a difference and because, - well, you did say - Well, it doesn't matter now.
- I've been ousted! - Ousted? Fired from the Board of Control! Oh! Ah, I'm so sorry, Councilman.
Ah, I don't know what to say.
Well, if you're still in pursuit of funding, you'll have to take it up with Councilman Toplin, my replacement.
And good luck getting one red cent out of that tightwad.
George, you'll have to see this.
Rekker could not have successfully made the shot from where he was standing.
Still, I'm not convinced he wasn't involved somehow.
So, Councilman Rekker's been fired and replaced with Toplin.
Toplin didn't even want to hear about the women's clinic, so I guess I'm back to square one.
Of course he would be fired.
Well, you don't consort with your boss's wife and then just skip back into work on a Monday morning.
He won't like that.
Ah! He looks fat and drunk.
Oh, they're coming.
What are you lot up to? Sir, you may want to see this.
Or you may not.
Another cartoon.
How is this possible? Hold on, that's us.
And he's making us look like fools.
Well, it seems our cartoonist is still alive.
Why am I in it? I've barely touched this case.
Guilt by association, I suppose.
I still don't understand why the cartoonist wanted to get rid of Rekker in the first place.
I wonder if it has to do with the upcoming vote on the Bloor Street Bridge? Well, go on, Higgins! Well, it's to run from Rosedale to the other side of the Don.
Ruthie's women's group have been up in arms over the possibility of losing their riverside picnic spot.
In any case, a new cartoon must mean one of three things: either Denison isn't really dead, or we have a copy-cat cartoonist, or Denison was never the real cartoonist at all.
This is one of Denison's cartoons drawn while he was still alive.
Ah, I knew it! Both of these drawings were penned by the same hand.
- Sir, how can you tell? - You see that? It is a calling card hidden in each of the drawings.
A symbol that brands the cartoons.
Ah! Wait a second! He's got me holding a bottle of scotch.
Sir, are you not often holding a bottle of scotch? I know exactly who the cartoonist is.
It's Fox! Well, how can you be sure, sir.
Many people know you drink scotch.
I know what I know, Murdoch.
No one makes fun of my station house and gets away with it! Ask for more, you got nothing to lose.
You think you're clever, don't you? I do.
I know you're the cartoonist! - Am I? - You and Denison were pals, worked at the same publication.
It would have been easy to feed him the cartoons every day.
Lots of people work at the Toronto Sentinel.
Then how do you explain the scotch in the drawing! - Accuracy? - What's going on, Inspector? Someone other than Denison drew this cartoon.
Probably did the others, as well.
I hardly think Mr.
Fox is clever enough for that.
Llewelyn! Is that a silk ascot? Oh, well, I thought I would get dressed up, but, clearly, I'm the one who is underdressed.
Oh, don't mind me.
You look great! So, do you have the tickets? - Nope.
- What? - I thought you said - I have a different plan.
- What's the plan? - I'm a regular at the theatre and it just so happens that one of my top lads works as a stagehand and will leave the side door open for us.
Should we be doing that? It feels illegal.
Are you a police officer or something? Have a little fun.
Is this something you do often? I make things work.
Besides, where's the fun in going in the front? This way is much more of a challenge.
I do love a challenge.
Quickly now.
Coming to my home truly crosses the line, Detective.
You refused to come into the station house, sir.
For everyone to revel in my humiliation? No, thank you.
You cannot impede a police Police investigation in this way.
Is everything all right, sir? How dare you do this to me? My wife saw the cartoon.
She's displeased.
Ah my sympathies to your wife.
He always thought you were a worthless scoundrel - below my standing! - Sir, do you know who might want you out of your position? In that den of vipers? Who knows? Could your ousting have something to do with your vote on the Bloor Street Viaduct? I have no idea.
Well, sir, I looked into your voting record, and you were for the bridge up until two months ago.
What made you flip your vote? Councilmen switch their votes all the time.
We are voting on behalf of our constituents, after all.
You represent Riverdale.
Why would your constituents not want easy access to the rest of the city via a bridge? It's almost as if you had incentive to change your vote.
Are you accusing me of something, Detective? Well, something made you change your mind.
- Was it a bribe? - And what proof do you have of this? It's easy enough to find out, Councilman.
We would just pull your financial records.
But I don't want to do this.
I have a killer to catch.
And to do so, I need your cooperation.
I may have taken a small token of appreciation for my vote against the bridge.
My replacement, Toplin, is pro-bridge.
It'll pass anyway.
Who bribed you? I don't know.
The request came in writing, anonymously.
The money was delivered and so I Acceded.
With Councilman Rekker out, the referendum on the Bloor Street Viaduct will pass.
Meaning what? Well, sir, this could be the motive for this murder.
Whoever killed the cartoonist does not want this bridge to be built.
Why? He doesn't want people from the other side of the river - coming into town? - Possibly.
But more likely, perhaps, is that the killer has a vested interest in protecting something that building this bridge would demolish.
Well, they'd have to tear down these buildings to build the bridge.
Who owns them? I've sent George to look into it.
Perhaps one of these buildings is the key to this entire thing.
Come on! You two, stop! Who knew watching the symphony from the wings would be so lovely? Oh! Being that close to the orchestra.
It almost gives the sound an ethereal quality.
I could practically feel the music inside me.
Well, you were standing right next to the bass drum.
I will no longer watch a symphony any other way.
Too bad the stage manager caught us.
I couldn't believe my ears when you said that we should run for it.
There is a fun side to you after all, Detective.
Well, would have been a difficult task to explain to the men from the station house when they showed up.
But it was worth it.
The symphony was magnificent.
Ah, pish! We can't live on a half-finished symphony.
It's blasphemy! The philharmonic will be back in New York in a matter of weeks.
- Let us go catch the rest down there.
- Oh.
That's a lovely idea.
Until next time.
Toodaloo.
So what's all this, then? Sirs, I think I've cracked it.
By all means, George, go right ahead.
Well, I went down to the land registry, and I found out which buildings would need to be torn down should the Bloor Street Viaduct go through.
There are four in total.
Do any of the owners oppose the project? Funny you should ask, sir.
Three of them sold up quite quickly, but the fourth has been a real stickler.
There is serious opposition to tearing this building down.
I'm here.
Good for you.
What do you need from me? Constable Crabtree asked me to come in.
Do I look like Constable Crabtree? It houses a small, out of commission printing press.
- Who owns it? - You're not going to believe this, sir.
It's owned by Joseph Skratz.
The man after which Mr.
Denison's award was named? One and the same, sir.
Now, this building was slated to be bought - and demolished months ago.
- Why wasn't it? It was saved, sir, by a petition.
Who started this petition? It was started by the very person who used to work for Joseph Skratz.
He's right there.
I'll just go in.
Well, you can't just walk into the inspector's office.
I'm sure George will be right out.
Say, you don't have any ink or a pen to spare, do you? I need to finish filling out these sweepstakes.
- Sweepstakes? - You can win a lot of money.
It's not 20 questions, Crabtree.
Get on with it! Sirs It's Louise Cherry.
Sirs! It's Louise Cherry.
This one doesn't work, either.
Guess you won't be a millionaire after all.
What is happening with this thing? Bloody hell.
Good Lord! What was that? What happened? Well, it appears we've found our murder weapon.
The ink coating the bullet that killed Mr.
Denison is a match for the ink found in this pen gun.
That wasn't my pen.
I've never seen it before.
How did it come to be found in your satchel, Miss Cherry? Who knows where pens come from? I need a pen, I see a pen, I take a pen.
You're telling me you just take pens? I lose more than I take.
I take a pen from someone, someone takes a pen from me.
Just now I gave Constable Higgins a pen.
I don't expect it back.
The universe will provide me with a new pen when I need one.
I can't believe my ears.
It's the natural order of things, like umbrellas.
Umbrell Oh! Miss Cherry, how do you explain this petition? I created the petition to save my dear mentor's first printing press.
I had my first job in that building.
Is that why you advocated against the building of the bridge? My journalistic position and my personal opinion are completely different things.
The city just decided to rebuild the Queen Street bridge and now they're going to disrupt everyone's lives to build another one on Bloor Street! Well, between theft and murder, things aren't looking very good for you, Miss Cherry.
Why on earth would I give Constable Higgins a pen if I thought it were a gun? Now, if you're not prepared to arrest me, I'd like to leave.
I'm a very busy woman.
There seems to be a misunderstanding, Miss Cherry.
You were part of a very small group of individuals present when Mr.
Denison was murdered.
And you were in possession of the murder weapon.
You are very much under arrest.
You must love this, George.
Uh, hardly.
Unlike yourself, Miss Cherry, I don't take pleasure in other people's discomfort.
And I certainly don't take their umbrellas.
Come with me.
The pen is circumstantial at best.
The killer could have slipped it into her bag.
Or she just happened to steal it.
In any case, her connection to Skratz's house seems hardly enough to kill someone over.
Well, there's got to be more to it, then.
Maybe the answer is the building.
I'll get my hat.
Right, George.
Look for anything that ties to Miss Cherry.
Why the fuss over this place? It's clearly been abandoned.
Oh, I don't know.
Look at this.
For a place that's been abandoned it seems someone's been here recently.
Wonder if this is Skratz' old desk? George? George? These floorboards are out of order.
- How can you tell? - Look at this ink stain.
It's as if someone pried the boards up and placed them again out of order.
Oh, my God.
Well, it appears we now know the import of this building.
Mr.
Joseph Skratz.
Kuala Lumpur.
I suppose he never made it on to that steamship after all.
This is the missing piece, George: the motive.
This is why Miss Cherry would kill to protect this place.
To protect her secret.
She killed them both.
Mr.
Watts! You seem in better spirits today.
Thank you for your advice, Inspector.
- I went and had a wonderful time.
- Glad to hear it.
On your way to the station? I'll be along in a minute, I have one last stop.
Ah! Sustenance.
Good idea.
- One, please.
- See you there.
Yes.
Thank you.
Do you really think she could have done this, Murdoch? Killed two people? It is somewhat out of character.
Out of character, sir? The woman steals pens! - George.
- And umbrellas! What kind of a maniac takes another person's umbrella on a rainy day? I'll tell you what kind, the criminally inclined.
What are you laughing at, Higgins? - Let me have a look.
- Sir, perhaps you'd rather not.
Give it to me.
Another bloody cartoon.
Oh, this isn't good.
Every single person we suspect in this investigation has been exposed.
Including Dr.
Ogden and Louise Cherry.
We need to solve this, quickly.
The calling card reminds me of LC.
Louise Cherry! She's the real cartoonist! The killer was trying to murder the cartoonist! Miss Cherry was the target.
She can't be the killer! But if she didn't kill Skratz, it must have been someone who knew him It was you, Mr.
Fox! Come back here! Ha! Come back, you! I've got you! When did you kill Mr.
Skratz? Two years ago.
Why? He found out I plagiarized articles.
I would have been blackballed in the industry and lost everything.
So, you killed him? Skratz never cared about me, anyway.
He adored Louise, she was his favourite.
And when he threatened to end my career, that was the last straw.
So, you buried him under the floorboards and left him to rot? What was I to do? He was retiring to Malaysia, and he'd already bought his tickets.
And with no next of kin, when he disappeared, there would be no one to ask questions.
I simply took control of his finances to ensure the building was not sold and wrote the occasional wanderlust article under Skratz' name for a travel magazine.
Nobody was ever the wiser.
What about this cartoonist? Everything was fine until that bridge nonsense came up.
Demolishing the building would have revealed the body.
Is that when you returned to the Skratz building? We found evidence that someone had been there recently.
I tried to move the body, but it was too decomposed, impossible to move.
So, I bribed Rekker, and everything was going to plan until those ludicrous cartoons blew it all up.
How did you come to find out that the Rekker cartoon was next on the docket? That scum, Councilman Toplin, came to me with the rumour first.
He wanted me to publish an article to take down Rekker so he could replace him at the Board of Control.
Naturally, you refused.
I knew he'd take it elsewhere.
I just didn't know where.
That is until that idiot, Denison, boasted about it to me.
So, you killed him for it.
Obviously.
I should've known Louise Cherry was behind this.
She's been chasing me my whole life.
Well, it seems she's finally caught you, Mr.
Fox.
You're free to go, Miss Cherry.
We're taking it easy on you this time but be warned: we won't be tolerating any more thefts.
Whatever you say, Constable.
Sign this, you can be on your way.
Can I borrow a pen? What? You confiscated the rest of my pens, remember? Your mark will do.
Good day, Miss Cherry.
I just can't believe it.
Joseph Skratz is dead, and Fox is the one who killed him.
I'm so sorry.
As much as we fought, I thought I knew him, at least.
Indeed.
It seems he was hiding quite the darkness.
I daresay it will be my last venture into matchmaking.
It's not you.
I have terrible luck with men.
If he had've known you were the cartoonist, it would have been your neck on the line.
Poor Mr.
Denison.
He was always up for some fun.
How did the two of you meet? We met at an event years ago.
He was so bored with high society and disgusted with the people in his social circle.
So, I came up with a plan to take them down.
Before we knew it, we had a huge following.
- So, he was just the face of it.
- Exactly.
I drew the cartoons and he got to shake the city.
He loved it.
So, why pretend that he's the cartoonist? The cartoons were based on rumours.
If I published them in any official capacity, it could compromise my journalistic integrity.
Still, it's a shame you couldn't get any glory.
I'm not in it for the glory.
Miss Bright.
Back again? Am I to take you to lunch every day? I should have known it'd be so easy.
What do you mean? Did it all on your own, did you? You don't know anything about me.
Oh, I know enough.
You told me hard work was all it took.
You failed to mention marrying a rich, white man.
And what of it? I owe you nothing.
I had hoped for a chance.
But I guess it was nothing but a fool's errand.
Good day, Miss Bright.
It makes me wonder what other secrets you hold.