The Murdoch Mysteries (2004) s15e13 Episode Script

1 William, we have to hurry.
The lecture isn't until one o'clock.
Yes, but Dr.
Jones told me that they're leaving for New York almost immediately after.
I want you to meet him.
- Dr.
Jones? - No! Dr.
Freud.
- Yes! - I studied with him in Vienna.
Man with strange theories.
Yes.
I'm very curious to see what you think.
Mr.
Davidson? How can I help you? I wish to report a murder.
- Of whom? - My wife, Lizzie.
- I believe someone has killed her.
- You believe? I saw it in a dream two nights ago.
And I haven't seen her since.
Why don't you have a seat? No, please, you are not listening.
Please just listen.
We have a conference.
We cannot You stopped.
I walked into you.
I know this woman.
- Dr.
Freud! - Dr.
Ogden.
We were just coming to see your lecture.
This is my husband, Detective William Murdoch.
Ah, yes! What brings you to our station house? Uh, my colleagues and I are not here out of desire, or intent.
I detained them, sir.
They were all participants in a brawl at Chez Pierre.
It was hardly a brawl.
Their tables were overturned, and people were screaming.
Apparently, there was some sort of death threat.
Death threat? Ah, this was delivered to me at my table.
I'm afraid I don't speak German.
It reads, "Use this to kill yourself before I do.
" It's most disturbing.
Why did it lead to a brawl? Because the only people who knew I would be at the restaurant were seated at my table.
One of these men wishes to kill me.
My dreams? You think this is about my dreams? What else am I to think? You could start by not making assumptions.
Uh, find out how this letter got to the restaurant.
- Sir.
- Dr.
Freud does not need you - to speak for him.
- I will speak for Dr.
Freud What's all this about? This is about the subconscious expression of displaced oedipal rage.
Are you referring to my father now, or just to you? You assume this is about you? - How am I to assume anything otherwise? - Enough! Sit down and shut up! Or you can all carry on as much as you like in my cells.
Can we not just spank this lot and send 'em home? - Well, sir.
- What's this gibberish? It's German.
It says, "Use this to kill yourself before I do.
" Apparently, one of these men sent it to Freud.
Right.
Interview them one at a time.
- But keep them away from me.
- Sir.
William Yes, Julia, given your experience in the field I should like you to help me with the interviews.
- If you like.
- Yes! Uh, but well, when I was in Vienna, with Dr.
Freud, I participated in his talking cure.
And, well, much of the talking was about you.
Oh.
How nice.
Yes.
Dr.
Ogden, what a pleasure it is to see you again, even if you did challenge my theories.
I'm flattered you remember.
Ah, remembering is easy when the experience is pleasant.
Detective, as I recall, you lost your mother at an early age.
I did, yes.
And you believed your father to have killed her.
Perhaps we should proceed with the interview? - Yes.
- Of course.
Please continue.
Is there something? Oh, no.
You are merely conforming to my expectations of you, Detective.
Oh! Ah, I see.
And what expectations would those be? You are a typical retentive.
I'm retentive? Dr.
Freud believes that infantile development is defined by pleasure-seeking at distinct stages.
If one cannot derive sufficient satisfaction at any one stage, one becomes fixated.
And what stage would I be fixated at? The anal.
It's a complex theory, William.
Retentives are rigid.
Socially inhibited.
They resist new ideas.
You have an expression in English, huh? Uh a stick in the ground, is it? Mud.
Ah.
I'm a stick in the mud? Well, it is, of course, complicated by an Oedipus conflict resulting in repression and unconscious feelings of inferiority.
Oedipus? You're referring to the king who killed his father in order to marry his mother? Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand.
Ah, yes, yes.
You wish to know who sent the death threat.
It was Dr.
Jung.
I'm certain of it.
Dr.
Freud is convinced I harbour a death wish towards him.
Every dream, every conversation - is subject to this interpretation.
- Why is that? He believes I have a displaced Oedipus conflict.
Yes, what is this Oedipus conflict? A boy's sexual desire for his mother leads to conflict with his father who he fears wishes to castrate him.
So, he therefore wants to kill his father and claim his mother for himself.
You think this pertains to me? It pertains to all males.
Ah, though Dr.
Freud places too much emphasis on the sexual dynamic.
So, Dr.
Freud feels this conflict pertains to his relationship with you? The parallels are obvious.
I am the son, the heir apparent.
He is the father, the authority.
It's a displaced conflict, of course, but it presupposes a death wish arising in the unconscious mind.
This was clearly a product of the ego.
Dr.
Freud's ego, to be specific.
- How so? - I believe he sent this to himself.
When I realized what he had done, I felt rage.
Not at the implicit accusation, but the rage of the son when he discovers his father is weak.
I am afraid I was cruel.
- In what way? - I quipped the only death wish he correctly diagnosed was Edie's.
Who is Edie? A patient of his who committed suicide.
Oh.
I suppose I should have expected a violent reaction.
- From Dr.
Freud? - No.
No, his defender and imitator, Victor Severn.
I defended Sigmund.
Someone had to.
What did you do? I slapped Jung's silly Swiss face, sent his eyeglasses flying.
He looked so shocked, I almost felt sorry for him.
So, you believe Dr.
Jung sent the death threats? Oh! Heavens, no.
That was Dr.
Ferenczi.
Dr.
Ferenczi? He was well aware of Sigmund's preoccupation.
With Dr.
Jung's death wish towards Dr.
Freud? Ferenczi knew Sigmund would believe it to be Jung.
- Why would Dr.
Ferenczi want - Because he wants to be the favoured son.
His craven adoration is an embarrassment.
Victor Severn said this? He is the one who is adoring! He dresses like Dr.
Freud, he wears the same beard, uh, smokes the same cigars.
He parrots whatever he says in the same accent.
And he's American! Do you think it's possible that Victor Severn sent the threat? He wouldn't have the imagination.
There is only one person who could have who sent it.
The man who knew where we were to be lunching.
The man who arranged our whole trip to Toronto.
Dr.
Jones.
I arranged it all, that is true.
The tickets, the restaurant.
At this moment, a group of my distinguished peers are awaiting a lecture that I organized, boasted about, but will never take place.
Perhaps you might inquire of Dr.
Ferenczi what analysis he can offer as to my motivation in bringing all this on myself.
Well, if you didn't send it, then who did? If I knew I would tell you.
As it is These are the most brilliant men of their generation.
Attempting to outwit them is a fool's errand.
Well, I am not a stick in the mud.
- Of course you're not! - I'm open to new ideas.
- You're a veritable fount of them.
- And I'm certainly not rigid.
Sir? - What have you, Henry? - Well, the death threat was sent from the Union Station telegraph office.
Were you able to get a description of the sender? They can't even remember if it was a man or a woman.
Very well.
Oh! Uh, I'm writing to George in Newfoundland.
Is there anything you'd like me to say? Oh, yes! Tell him to say howdy to his aunts.
Howdy? And be sure to wish he and Effie a wonderful time.
Certainly.
What I mean to say is can I share your news? - Yes, Henry.
Please do.
- Oh! Yes.
Yes.
Right.
Howdy.
Ah, all right.
Tell me again.
I was in front of a building with double doors.
Do you know this building? - All I know is it was number 19.
- Uh-huh.
I went inside and there was a foyer with a large staircase.
Top of which was a hallway with two doors at either end.
I knocked on the one to the left and was told I had the wrong door.
So, you tried the other.
There was no answer, so I went inside and saw Lizzie lying on a red blanket and a strange man behind her.
Who you didn't know.
And I went to Lizzie and found the red blanket was in fact soaked in blood.
And you saw the man had a knife? - I think it was a scalpel.
- Oh! Hmm.
Yes.
And you believe this man murdered your wife? Detective Watts.
Yes.
You're certain? No, no, no.
That's fine.
Mr.
Davidson, what is your wife's full name? - Elizabeth Mary Davidson.
- Elizabeth Mary Davidson And she lives with you at, uh, - 189 Water Street? - Of course.
Wha-what's going on? My constable was just at that address.
He spoke to your neighbours.
None recall a woman living with you.
Oh! Stay right there.
As far as I can see they're just a bunch of eggheads who'll talk themselves to death before anyone can kill them.
I don't disagree, sir.
What time's their train? - 2:25, I believe.
- Perfect.
Release them on condition that no one kills anyone - until they've crossed the border.
- Pin this on me? You asked for my opinion, I give you my opinion! Come, come.
He was only diverting blame from himself! Let go of me now! Let us not be children.
Or perhaps it was you.
- Stop.
This is enough! - Yes.
Enough.
Right! The next one to speak, or move, gets a taste of my knuckles.
Is that understood? What? I don't feel well.
It is likely hysteria.
Are you experiencing chest pain? It could be angina.
William, look at this.
It's blood.
- What has happened? - Dr.
Severn! What has happened? He's dead.
Turn them out.
Let's see.
Turn them right out.
The entrance wound suggests something round and thin.
A needle? He was injected? It's wider than a needle.
I believe it may have pierced his heart.
He was standing, talking.
Depending on the extent of the injury, he could have lived for more than a minute.
You're saying the man didn't even know he'd been stabbed? Adrenaline can keep someone from feeling the effects of even a mortal wound for a brief time.
Murdoch! None of them did it.
None of them saw anything.
None of them had anything on them.
Henry, did you see who Dr.
Severn was fighting with? I couldn't tell who was who.
Bloody hell, Higgins.
You're a copper.
Well, they look just like each other! I even separated them, and I still couldn't tell.
It had to have been Dr.
Freud.
He and Dr.
Severn look very much alike.
Henry, escort Dr.
Freud to the interview room, please.
If you can do that.
Dr.
Jung? I could not help but overhear.
I believe I can be of some assistance determining the truth.
How? Through psychic analysis? Ah, no.
Through word association.
I have used the technique to help police solve crimes.
The idea is to allow the unconscious mind to speak the truth before the conscious mind can suppress it.
It is a new idea.
I understand if you are resistant.
Mr.
Davidson, when was the last time you saw your wife? I, uh I don't remember.
Was it yesterday? Last week? Last year? She's dead, isn't she? She died four years ago.
How could I have How was she killed? According to the police report, she committed suicide.
No, no.
It was him.
He killed her.
I know it! You have to believe me.
Yes.
I shouldn't have said that.
I apologize.
Whatever for? Her death was not my doing.
Shall we proceed? Yes, of course.
Uh, is that young as in age, or Jung as in you? That will require analysis.
Dr.
Freud has conflated these homonyms before.
He believes me to be the killer.
No doubt based on his prior interpretations of latent displacement.
You dreamt of skulls, ancient skulls, in your basement.
- Not yours.
- Then whose? If you must know, it was your wife.
And her sister.
Why would you think Dr.
Jung would kill Dr.
Severn? Dr.
Freud believes I desired to kill him.
When I said murder, he said mich: me.
Not ich: I.
Object, not subject.
Dr.
Severn imitated me in every way.
So, you think Dr.
Jung may have mistaken him for you? It was not a mistake.
His unconscious mind was at war with itself.
One part wished my death, the other could not allow it and redirected his hand to my doppelganger.
Ah! A brilliant analysis.
Albeit completely wrong.
Is that my letter to George? - Your lover's name is George? - George? No.
No, George.
George is my friend.
You like to say his name, yeah? Freud believes Jung killed him? - Apparently.
- Why? - Well, sir, it's a - Sir, this just in.
Oh, no This.
Es war It was It says: "It was meant for you, Dr.
Freud.
" Detective Watts translated it.
Do you think one of this lot sent it? Certainly possible.
They would merely have had to pick up the telephone and call the telegraph office.
Higgins, get one of the lads to go down to the telegraph office.
- See if he can find out who sent this.
- Sirs.
Well, Dr.
Freud was right.
He is the intended target.
Mrs.
Hart and I have determined the implement that pierced Dr.
Severn's chest.
It's a narrow spike at least four inches long.
It passed through his heart.
- A knitting needle? - Possibly.
But it would have taken some force to penetrate so deeply and through cloth.
I wonder where it is now? Sirs! It certainly looks like the murder weapon.
There's definitely a fingermark on it.
Henry, obtain fingermark samples from all of them.
- Find out which one is a match.
- Sir.
Ah, Dr.
Ogden! Oh! Yes, Detective? This man came in suffering from what I believe to be severe dissociation related to his wife's death and it appears you performed the postmortem.
Ah, Elizabeth Davidson.
Yes, I recall.
Suicide, if I remember correctly.
Is that finding definitive? Well She was found in a bath with a longitudinal wound on her left wrist.
The algor mortis and the temperature of the water were consistent with her having laid in a warm bath and cut her wrists.
Could she have been murdered? Well, it's possible.
She She did have high levels of opium in her system.
Do you have reason to suspect murder? Detective.
Dr.
Freud.
Are you familiar with the term parapraxis? A slip of the tongue.
An unintentional error that betrays the workings of the subconscious.
Recite the telegram, please.
Es war für dich, Dr Freud.
Ah! The sender used "dich.
" Not "sie.
" I'm afraid I don't understand.
Well, both words mean "you".
But dich is informal.
Ah, one uses it with family, close friends, those whom we call by their first names, yet he refers to me by my title: Dr.
Freud.
Seems like a simple enough mistake.
No German would ever make such a mistake.
You're saying, then, that the sender was not German? I am saying the sender is suffering from emotional dissonance, a man who wishes to be both a son and a peer.
It grieves me to say only one person matches such a description.
Dr.
Jung.
Sir, we have a match for the fingermark.
Who is it? It's Dr.
Jung, sir.
Dich, not sie.
Dr.
Freud claims he is both a formal mentor figure and, as per your slip, a member of your family.
His analysis is sound.
I have cared very deeply for Dr.
Freud.
We once shared a deep bond of friendship.
You once did? - Our philosophies are diverging.
- How so? He is focused on his own theories to the exclusion of all others.
Unfortunately, Doctor, we have proof of your involvement.
The murder weapon has been identified.
A paper spike, like this one, was taken from Constable Higgins' desk.
And? And your fingermarks are on it.
I see.
And you believe this confirms my guilt.
Anything else? Dr.
Jung claims to have picked up the paper spike in order to replace it on the desk.
I suppose it could have fallen off in the scuffle.
I didn't see him pick it up, though.
Based on the orientation of the fingermarks, all we can ascertain is that he did, in fact, pick it up.
But, holding it thusly would not have allowed the killer to strike Dr.
Severn with enough force to kill him.
Unless, of course, he picked it up and then stabbed Dr.
Severn in the chest.
How do we prove it? Henry There are marks under the bottom of the base of the murder weapon.
I believe these to be palm marks.
Ah, palm marks? Yes.
Look at your hand.
On your palm there are ridges, - similar to those of your fingertips.
- Oh, yes.
It shouldn't be too difficult to get a palm print from our circle of suspects.
We had best get started, Henry.
Ugh.
You'll have to do it again.
Doctor, I wonder if I might be able - to have a moment of your time? - Uh, of course.
Dr.
Ogden tells me that you're the world's leading expert - on the workings of the mind.
- Uh, this is correct.
Then I wonder if you could offer me some guidance? The missus, my wife Margaret, has been having some troubles of late.
- Come in, come in.
- Oh, thank you.
Uh, what type of troubles? She's been harping on about everything.
I'm working too much, I'm eating too much, I'm drinking too much.
Are you drinking too much? Well, I don't think so.
Same as ever.
Uh, but here's where you come in, Doctor.
I don't think it's me that she's worried about.
Ah! You think her true concern is displaced.
Ah.
Our son, Bobby, has had a spot of bother with the law.
He killed a man.
Well, two men.
I see.
And now he's on the run.
If he comes back, they could hang him.
All sons are in conflict with their fathers.
I was with my father, my sons are with me.
But Bobby and I have never had any trouble.
Ah, you are the police.
Any crime your son commits is an attack on you, a manifest expression of his subconscious hatred of you.
Why would he hate me? Well, a child is born and falls in love with his mother.
When he becomes aware of his father's intimate role, he wishes to usurp him.
You're saying my son wants to - Well, yeah - With his own mother? I was going to ask you for an autograph! Get out! Not another bloody word! - Well, inspector, I - Not another word! What have you, Henry? Ah! Well, I'm only on the second one, sir.
It's harder than it seems.
What did you find out with the first one? Well, I've only just got the print.
I haven't checked it yet.
- This is Dr.
Jung's? - Yes.
Well, then, check this one first.
If it's a match, there's no need to proceed.
Huh! Yes, sir.
Um, uh, what do I do now? What's wrong with me? Traumatic events can cause the mind to fracture, and painful memories can be repressed.
- Do you still believe that she was murdered? - Yes.
And you're convinced it was the man from your dream.
Excuse us.
What do you think? Repressed memories can certainly emerge in dreams, but they have to be decoded.
They can't be taken at face value.
And we have the world's leading dream decoder in our station house.
Oedipus.
Sir! It is not Dr.
Jung.
You're quite sure? I divided the palm print into these six quadrants.
Sextants.
What? Quadrants would be if there were Never mind.
So, no portion of his palm print matches - the one found on the murder weapon? - No, Sir.
Uh, you are certain? Dr.
Jung's palm print did not match that of the murder weapon.
Well, I am, uh, vastly relieved, of course.
Assuming your original theory holds.
Ah, displaced Oedipal aggression.
Could the same apply to another one of your acolytes? Well, I I've never seen any of them as a son.
But, huh! That does not mean they do not see me as a father.
In fact, Dr.
Ferenczi sent me a letter in which he confessed to wanting to kill me.
What? When? Uh, some months ago.
And you didn't think to tell me? I'd always assumed it was a cloying attempt to gain favour by affirming my theories.
He was so eager to please you he told you he wished to kill you? Yeah, that's right.
Perhaps it's time to take Dr.
Ferenczi at his word.
This is ridiculous.
You deny writing the letter? The letter was an academic exploration of my psychic tendencies.
Did you harbour such feelings, or did you not? One harbours all manner of thoughts.
Well, then, I'm afraid if you've thought it, you have motive.
I understand your logic, Detective.
But this is impossible.
You can rest assured of this because during the altercation I was nowhere near Dr.
Severn.
The closest I came was when I was face to face with Dr.
Jones.
Dr.
Severn was behind Dr.
Jones.
Jones was next to Dr.
Severn? Yes.
I was face to face with Ferenczi, yes.
But I have no clue who was behind me.
Dr.
Ferenczi was pulled off of you.
What did you do then? I sat down.
You sat down? In the middle of a fight? My back ails me.
Grappling with Ferenczi didn't help, so I sat.
Where? In a chair.
After that, the constables interceded, and I stood back up and moved away.
But I was never near Severn.
This is Mr.
Davidson.
You would like me to interpret this man's dreams? One dream, in particular.
A nightmare of sorts.
Murdoch, McNabb just got back from the telegraph office.
The threat wasn't called in.
Well, it can't have been any of our suspects.
None of them have left the building.
It was sent from our telegraph machine.
What? One of them has snuck into our telegraph room - and sent it directly? - It seems that way.
So, I go to the other door, and I open it.
And I can see Lizzie lying on a couch on top of a red blanket.
And there is a man behind her.
Is she clothed or naked? Naked.
- How did you ? - Continue please.
So, I go to Lizzie, but when I reach her, I realize the blanket is red because it is soaked in her blood.
Then I look up and I see that the man's hands are covered in blood and he's holding a scalpel.
And he says, "I have completed my dissection.
" This man, standing behind your wife Sitting, actually.
Can you see his face? Yes.
But I can't make it out.
- Is he young, or old? - Old.
Could it represent her father? Her father molested her when she was a child.
In any case, it is your dream, not hers.
Which way does he part his hair? To the right.
The opposite of yours.
- Yes.
- Uh, Doctor What are you thinking? All dreams are derived from wish fulfillment, but, uh, what is the wish? To save his wife, I assume.
Or is it to reveal her killer? So, you think she was killed? I have no doubt.
As the manifest content makes clear, he saw the killer.
Normally, a naked person represents desire, but in this case, I think it is a repressed memory of her death.
She's naked because he found her that way in the bath? Precisely.
There is a mirror in your bathroom? Yes.
That is why the hair part is reversed.
The man you see is your own reflection.
You're lying.
You're a liar! The diameter is definitely cigar ash.
There's only two cigar smokers in this lot and one of them's dead.
And the one who sent the telegram must be the other.
Why would Freud send a death threat to himself? To convince us that he was the target and not the killer? Higgins.
Where are you at with those palm marks? I'm finished with everyone but Dr.
Freud, sir.
He's been detained by Detective Watts.
So, the palm mark on the murder weapon isn't a match - for any of the others? - No, sir.
I checked them all twice.
By logic of deduction The killer is Sigmund Freud.
Sirs.
I was in your telegraph room, yes.
Why? To send a telegram.
- A death threat.
Against yourself.
- No.
The threat was sent from that telegraph machine.
You claim you sent a different telegram from the same machine? That is correct.
What was this message that you sent? And to whom? I decline to discuss this matter.
Dr.
Freud, you are being interviewed under suspicion of murder.
Suspicion without evidence.
Of a murder for which I have no motive.
You confronted the man, physically, during the melee.
We were in the same place at the same time.
It was a coincidence.
You had him by the bloody lapels.
Our constable saw you.
I do not remember this.
Perhaps your subconscious suppressed the memory? Dr.
Severn annoyed me.
His admiration was uncritical.
He imitated me.
Or your subconscious identified him as you.
As me? Your death wish toward him was, in fact, a personal death wish spurred on by your own self-hatred.
Well, uh, yah.
Interesting.
But inaccurate.
I'm afraid I have no more to say on this matter.
You can say no more in our cells.
Constable! Wait.
All right.
If you must know, the telegram I sent was to Minna, my wife's sister.
This is the sister from Dr.
Jung's dream? Dr.
Jung dreamed of two skulls he found buried together deep beneath his house.
I had assumed it was another manifestation of his death wish towards me, but I see now that the skulls represented a secret he had buried.
You understand? No.
Not really.
He believes Minna and I had an affair.
Did you? I don't see how this is relevant.
Ah, sirs there's a problem.
- What is it, Henry? - I only left them for a moment, I swear, but Someone has taken the paper spike and the fingermarks.
- Er, palm marks.
- What? All of them? I was about to compare them to Dr.
Freud's.
He was in the interview room the whole time.
Who else was near that area? All of them, at one point or another, sir.
- Well, search them.
- I have, sir.
Nothing.
One of them must have stashed them somewhere, but the lads are already searching the station house.
It had to have been one of them, trying to protect Dr.
Freud.
Although I am skeptical that he is, in fact, the killer.
But none of the other prints match.
It has to be him.
Don't turn around, Henry.
What if it was someone else? During the melee, Ernest Jones stated that he took a seat because his back was in pain.
Meaning that Mr.
Davidson was not at his customary seat over by Watts' desk.
Instead he was in a position to pick up the paper spike and to strike the man he believed was Dr.
Freud.
Why the bloody hell would he do that? He was in the station house before that lot even arrived.
He doesn't know these people.
Is it painful? Detective Watts? Hmm, yes? What was the name of Mr.
Davidson's wife? Elizabeth Davidson.
I quipped the only death wish he correctly diagnosed was Edie's.
Edie.
E.
D.
Could they be one and the same? Dr.
Freud.
Your patient who committed suicide, Edie? This was a pseudonym, I take it? Yes.
I would not publish details of a patient's case under her real name.
Doctor, we need to know your patient's name.
It could have bearing on this investigation.
Her name was Elizabeth Davidson.
That's her.
Charlie's wife was Freud's patient.
That's right, Doctor.
I'm the one who's going to kill you.
- Mr.
Davidson, don't do anything rash.
- Rash? I've been planning this for years.
Dreaming of it every night since I found her.
Your wife suffered from hysteria brought about by an unresolved wish to possess her father.
It was her father who possessed her.
Night after night he came into her room while her mother pretended not to notice.
It was my belief these memories represented the psychic repression of latent desire.
You made her doubt what she knew to be true! She came back thinking she had lost her mind.
Nothing I said, or did, made any difference.
Your dream? It was an allusion to Freud.
I wanted him to know who was killing him and why.
Easy, Davidson.
But he was too arrogant to see it.
And now he's going to get what he deserves.
Why don't I just give him a sock? What is sock? Watts! No! No! I heard Freud was travelling to Niagara Falls.
I was going to go there to find him.
But then I got word he was coming to Toronto.
You waited for him at the train station.
I overheard where they were dining - and sent the letter ahead.
- With a razor in it.
What use is revenge if the subject doesn't see it coming? Were you there to see him find it? No.
By the time I arrived, your constables were arresting them.
So, I decided to get here first.
Wasn't what I'd planned.
But I knew just the story to make up, so you'd keep me here.
- Well, it worked.
- Yes.
Got to watch him squirm.
You killed a man, Mr.
Davidson.
Yes.
That was regrettable.
I suppose I'll hang for it.
But it was Freud I wished to kill.
Yet he lives on.
I only hope his ideas die out before they take hold.
Well, goodbye, Doctor.
I'm sorry we didn't get to see your lecture.
- Oh! - Perhaps on your next visit.
Oh, I can assure you, this will be my last trip to the Americas.
Yes.
Attempted murder does leave a certain taste.
Oh, it's not that.
It's the food, the culture, the intrusive informality.
I simply do not care for it.
Auf wiederschauen.
Well, what do you think? Will psychic analysis be the way of the future? I doubt it.
Dr.
Freud was wrong about nearly everything.
He was right about one thing.
Oh, that hardly seems fair.
You told him everything about me.
All I did was describe a stick in the mud that I wouldn't I wouldn't change for anything.
Now, William, you can take your hands out of your pockets now.
Eggheads! They're all bloody crackers.
Any attempt to know the minds of men seems like folly to me.
Maybe so.
But even I could do a better job than Dr.
Freud.
I'll say.
Dr.
Freud said I'm in love with George.
Even a broken clock's correct twice a day.