The Murdoch Mysteries (2004) s15e14 Episode Script

1 Betsy.
- Hm? - I think it's time to make it official.
- Would you be mine? - Yours? Like one of your pet chickens? Well, you'd be the prettiest hen in the roost.
(both laugh) - MAN: I will put an end - WOMAN: No! MAN: To your wicked ways.
Betsy! - Stop! Please! - What are you doing? - Please! - Be careful! Stop, sir! Wilbur! Help me! WILBUR: I can't.
These are new shoes! Are you in league with this woman? Is she? Is she?! - Ma'am, let me help you.
- Thank you.
Betsy, are you all right? This is the spot where he tried to drown her.
Can you describe this man? A wiry fellow wearing a vest.
BETSY: And shabby trousers.
And his hair was the colour of mud.
- And the woman? - Unkempt and wild-eyed.
BETSY: I was going to say raven-haired and beautiful.
He surely would have killed her if I hadn't stopped him.
- You stopped him? - Well, Betsy also helped.
Was the woman hurt? She seemed fine.
She just walked away.
And the man? He ran off with his tail between his legs.
What direction? Thank you.
(insect buzzing) Sir! Sir, stop! I think that's poison ivy.
A wiry fellow with shabby trousers and hair the colour of mud.
Pardon me, sir.
Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.
(grunts) They are dead.
Every last one of them.
Well, that's terrible, but we're here on a different matter.
A young couple stated that they saw a man, matching your description, down by the Don River.
It was I.
They say you tried to drown a woman.
No.
No, I did not.
I tried to drown a witch.
MURDOCH: You tried to drown a witch? They float, you know, so You have to force them under.
Do not look down your nose at me, sir.
You do not know the hardships that I've suffered.
Such as? I cannot butcher these animals.
She has tainted them with her curse.
She used the dark arts to shrivel their hocks and stop their hearts.
Shrivel their hocks? MAN: Their legs, man.
Half of them blackened and fell off.
And you believe this witch is responsible? How? She lives alone in a shack by the swamps.
I have seen her, with my own eyes, take flight into the dark night sky.
I destroyed her demonic shrine and afterwards I saw her assume the form of a black fox and suckle the teats of the livestock, draining them dry.
Good Lord.
As God is my witness.
Your story defies belief, sir.
You doubt me? Sir, then how do you explain this? What is it? The witch, she staked this talisman outside my bedroom to curse my dreams.
Ah, do not touch it! It is evil.
I'm sure it's harmless, Mr Wenders.
Gunther Wenders.
Killing this witch would be a virtuous deed, as far as I'm concerned.
It would be murder.
As it stands, it's attempted murder.
Constable Higgins, take this man into custody.
You should be punishing the witch, not the God-fearing man who stood against her! Take him down to the station house and I'll try to find this Minerva West.
(humming) Minerva West? I am she.
Detective William Murdoch, Toronto constabulary.
Merry meet, William.
I prefer Detective Murdoch.
I'm sure you do, William.
Um, were you the victim of an assault this morning? This morning.
Every morning.
But I have cast a circle of protection around myself that no man can breach.
Apparently, Mr.
Wenders nearly drowned you.
You're lucky that young couple came to your rescue.
It was not luck.
Hecate sent those minions to my aid.
Hecate? You really should read more sacred texts.
Obviously our taste in scriptures differs quite a bit.
And, uh, what is the source of Mr.
Wenders' animosity toward you? Ignorance.
- Fear.
- Of? Women who live alone in the woods.
Might this have frightened him? Acturus panctro sancti sanctum! You would dare wish a death curse upon me? (sighs) Mr.
Wenders claims that you nailed this to his home.
That is a lie.
I have never sent a man to his death.
Well, if you didn't place this curse upon Mr.
Wenders, then, who did? You assume that I am the only witch in Toronto.
We hide ourselves and for good reason.
You've heard of Salem, Massachusetts? The Spanish Inquisition, perhaps? I'm well-versed in history, Miss West.
Hm.
So smug.
You must be Catholic.
Cowbane.
Beautiful, yes? And very toxic.
Miss West, someone or something killed Mr.
Wenders' goats.
Would you know anything about that? Only that it's a shame.
I have a fondness for horned beasts.
Well, if there was any foul play, I'll find out about it.
In the meantime, you can rest assured that Mr.
Wenders will be prosecuted for assaulting you.
Do what you will.
I know that Gunther Wenders will meet the fate that he deserves.
HIGGINS: So she admits to being a witch? - Oh, it's fascinating.
- That's bollocks! That is, indeed, what Minerva West claims.
But as far as I can tell, this is just a feud between a superstitious man and a delusional woman.
Sir, what about the goats? You don't need magic to kill a goat, Higgins.
Minerva West denies any involvement.
But I am going to have the remaining carcasses tested for poison.
I did observe her tending to noxious plants.
Her plants may be medicinal rather than poisonous.
I, for one, would very much like to meet this witch.
WOMAN: Gunther? Where's my Gunther? Please! You must understand, Gunther had to stop her.
May I be of assistance? Detective Murdoch.
Katrina Wenders.
You took my husband.
Your husband has admitted to assaulting He was protecting our family from a witch.
You believe this? He believes this.
He is German Protestant.
It's part of his heritage and I support my husband.
The witch hunts ended centuries ago, Mrs.
Wenders.
Not for Gunther.
I see.
But that woman, Minerva West, she is truly wicked.
I've no doubt she will continue to afflict him and other God fearing souls.
Well, then, your husband is safe and sound in our cells, so you needn't worry.
Witchcraft cannot be kept out by brick walls, Detective.
He is still vulnerable.
May I see him? GUNTHER: Katrina.
Have you managed to talk some sense into these fools? I tried, dear.
So, you are on the side of the witch.
Absurd accusations will not help your case, Mr.
Wenders.
You could be going to prison for a long time.
How long can a man be imprisoned for protecting his family? For attempted murder.
The length of your sentence will be up to a judge to decide.
Find me a lawyer, Katrina.
The best that money can buy.
But, Gunther, we have no money.
You spent it on the goats.
Damn that witch to hell! Holy Moses.
I need you to find out the cause of death.
Is this goat a murder victim? (sighs) I need to establish motive in an assault case.
I need to find out if the goat died of natural causes or malicious intervention.
I'm no veterinarian, but I'll try my best.
And who's accused of killing it? OGDEN: A witch? She believes she's a witch.
She's actually a recluse who lives in the woods and tends to a garden of poisonous plants.
And the man who tried to kill her? A German immigrant who imported all of the superstitions from the old country.
Where thousands of "witches" were burned alive during the Reformation.
History lacks for no proof of man's brutality.
Many were executed simply for having medical knowledge.
In an earlier time, I might have been burned as a witch.
You might have been my inquisitor.
Your soup's getting cold, dear.
Eat up.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Pardon me.
I You are haunted.
A dark and bottomless pain consumes your every waking moment.
Diana, Mistress of the Dawn, I beseech thee.
Lilith, Queen of the Night, I beseech thee.
Hecate, Mother of Dark Souls, I beseech thee.
Mistress, Queen and Mother, Three Lend thine ears and hear this plea.
From my foe deliver me.
Malice drives the vicious man.
Seal his lips and stay his hand.
This I humbly ask of thee.
By thy will So mote it be.
GUARD: Mr.
Wenders? Mr.
Wenders? Help! Somebody, help! Watts! Detective Watts! Help! WATTS: Mr.
Wenders? (chanting in foreign language) The completion of their ritual coincided precisely with Mr.
Wenders' sudden, agonizing death.
Correlation does not equate causation, Detective.
So it was mere coincidence the two events occurred simultaneously? Well, they d You know, it's been said there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophies.
Hamlet is a work of fiction.
That doesn't make it untrue.
Chanting, chalk and candles cannot kill a man.
Now it is possible that these so-called witches found some other way to bring about Mr.
Wenders' death.
Poison, perhaps.
Administered while he was behind bars? They may have found a way to get it into his food.
I'll trace the steps by which meals are delivered to the inmates.
HART: I found no signs of trauma to the beast's body.
And the toxicology results? No poisons detected.
Then how did it die? Witchcraft.
(chuckles) I honestly don't know yet, but I did find something bizarre.
- Go on.
- The animal's limbs had become dry, black, shriveled.
In essence, mummified while it was still alive.
Mr.
Wenders did say that his goats' limbs seemed to have fallen off.
Somehow the blood supply to the limbs had stopped.
But I don't know what caused it.
Hm.
Well, let's hope your findings in Mr.
Wenders' case are more conclusive.
The whole city was buzzing with gossip and I was dying to talk to someone.
About? Oh, the witches, of course.
They've caused quite a stir.
I thought you'd got this out of your system after talking my ear off about it last night.
Well, I mean witches, Thomas.
Here in Toronto.
For one thing, they're not witches.
They're just a bunch of happy dafties who can't find husbands.
But they are in Toronto? Yes.
Why? Oh, well, I mean I was just wondering, if I was a witch, what neighbourhood would I live in? Do you know? Margaret, you know better than to waste your time on this rubbish.
Well, I was just curious - because I - I forbid you to pursue this any further.
I don't like the way you speak to me, Thomas.
Oh, bloody hell, Margaret.
I've just come home for lunch! None of the other prisoners got sick from the food.
So, Mr.
Wenders was deliberately targeted with a poisoned meal? I don't see how.
All the meals were prepared by our usual cook, who says she made them all from the same pot of goulash.
Well, who delivered the food to the inmates? The meals were randomly distributed by our constables.
So no one could have known which meal - would be consumed by Mr.
Wenders.
- Correct.
KATRINA: I warned you that witch was evil! You did nothing.
And now Gunther is dead! Mrs.
Wenders, my deepest condolences.
Oh, save your condolences.
I am here to claim my husband's body.
We can't release his body until the post mortem is completed.
And so the indignities continue.
We are merely trying to determine the cause of your husband's death.
You know the cause.
And the killer.
Thus far, there is no evidence that Miss West killed your husband.
She cast a hex right under your nose.
Have you even questioned her? MURDOCH: Miss West, I don't believe the ritual you performed outside of our station house killed Mr.
Wenders.
You are correct.
I cast my intention to silence his tongue and to stop his harassment, not to kill him.
Who were the women who accompanied you? My apprentices.
I only know them by the names they chose for themselves: Elsbeth Nighthawk and Persephone Jade.
Where might we find them? I haven't asked where they live.
But they will be joining me tonight for the full moon sabbath.
I can inquire then, if you like.
Don't touch that.
Might this be your grimoire? - It is.
- Ah! A witch's personal archive of potions and incantations.
Belladonna, monkshood, jimsonweed These are all poisons.
Then I'd advise you not to eat them.
And I said don't touch that! I'll be taking this book and this cabinet, as well as its contents.
So, you would steal from me now? I am seizing them as evidence.
You will regret this.
- How so? - Your hands will erupt in blisters.
You'll writhe in ceaseless pain and claw at your own flesh.
By the blood of Baphomet, so mote it be.
Right, then.
Watts? She became irate when we seized her possessions as evidence.
What was your impression of Miss West, Detective? I must admit I admire her gumption.
She's resourceful and independent.
A non-conformist.
And quite possibly a killer.
Detective, your hand.
That might just be the witch's curse.
Curse? She warned you not to touch her book.
She said my hand would break out in blisters.
And now your hand has broken out in blisters.
Well, she does have poison ivy leaves in her cabinet.
Oh! She probably rubbed it on the outside of the book.
Some calamine lotion should break the spell.
(sighs) Well Some of these ingredients are medicinal, but many of them are poisonous.
Which supports the theory that she poisoned Gunther Wenders.
But Mr.
Wenders was locked in his cell when his symptoms struck.
He may have ingested a poison with a delayed effect.
Could any of Miss West's concoctions achieve that result? Well, there's one way to find out.
I wonder if Mrs.
Hart is up for some experimentation? So, what did Mr.
Wenders' post-mortem reveal? His toes and earlobes showed signs of dry gangrene, the same condition I observed in his goat.
But the gangrene didn't kill him? No.
His lungs were hyper-inflated and there was obvious petechial hemorrhaging.
- Well, it sounds like suffocation.
- Indeed.
Gunther Wenders died from asphyxiation while simultaneously being affected by convulsions.
And the toxicology report? No known poisons were found.
Something more exotic must have been used.
We need to find a poison that causes hallucinations, convulsions, dry gangrene and asphyxiation.
And which takes effect hours after being administered.
Let's continue then.
Waft the smoke through the air and chant, "Sweet Demeter use thy might, cleanse the air this full moon night.
" I don't see how this could have any effect at all.
(Ogden laughs) Perhaps there's something in the smoke? Chemically interacts with the poison? And the raven's skull? Well, bones contain calcium, magnesium, potassium.
Minerals may play a part in the makeup of the poison? Hmm.
"Rotating your pestle in a counter-clockwise motion, grind the raven's skull to a fine powder.
" Though I walk the crooked path I fear not God nor man's pale wrath.
A blood moon lights the trail that's bent.
Manifesting my intent.
Deliver me from petty grief OGDEN AND WITCHES: offer succor's sweet relief.
This I offer up to thee.
Hear my prayer, so mote it be.
Now? Ooh.
Hmm.
And now? We feed it to the rats.
Blessed be, Elsbeth.
Blessed be, Minerva.
Blessed be, Persephone.
Blessed be, Minerva.
Shall we begin the inquisition? They're heading in the direction of Mr.
Wenders' home.
Perhaps we should follow them.
I don't want to see you go.
- I'm going to miss you.
Yeah.
- I'm going to miss you.
See you tomorrow? Bye.
Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.
What are you doing? Going to bed.
This is my home.
You're Gunther Wenders' daughter? Well, then, why not use the door? Mother worries when I stay out late.
And how did your father feel about it? Why do you care? Because your father died under mysterious circumstances.
Mysterious? You don't seem all that upset at your father's passing.
Why should I be? My father hated everything about me.
That's why I killed him.
- MURDOCH: Miss Wenders - My name is Elsbeth Nighthawk.
As you wish, Miss Nighthawk.
You claim you killed your father.
How did you do it? I staked a cursed talisman outside his bedroom window.
You doubt me.
Your talisman was gruesome, but it's absurd to claim it has the power to kill.
It should have been a human heart, but I was unable to obtain one.
So, you admit yours was not effective? I wouldn't say that.
I found him in the barn, out of his mind with fear.
Miss Wend Miss Nighthawk, how did you kill your father? I burned a lock of Father's hair and cast the ash upon the threshold of the police station.
That time my spell worked.
I don't believe for one second that witchcraft killed your father.
Fine.
If witchcraft isn't real, what judge will convict me? (sighs) What caused your rift with your father? I loved with the love that dare not speak its name.
Persephone is your lover? Father forbade me to see her.
But I disobeyed.
When I heard father ranting about the witch in the woods, I decided to see for myself.
And? I liked what I saw.
Men fear Minerva.
It's better to be feared than fearful.
But, since there's no such thing as witchcraft, I'll be on my way.
- Can we hold her? - I don't have a choice.
You've confessed to killing your father and we will find out how you did it.
Until then, you'll remain in custody.
Hm.
I'm looking for Elsbeth Nighthawk.
You must be the infamous witch of the woods.
And you are? I'm Inspector Thomas Charles Brackenreid.
My wife was quite taken with the spectacle you made of yourself the other night.
Your wife sounds far wiser than you, Inspector.
If you pull another stunt like that on my doorstep, - you'll end up behind bars.
- On what grounds? Pretending to be a witch is illegal in Canada.
- I'm not pretending.
- Rubbish.
I've neither the time nor the energy to enlighten your tiny mind, so I'll just drop off this parcel for Elsbeth - and be on my way.
- What is it? Just something wholesome to fill her belly.
We don't allow outside food to be given to prisoners.
First you steal my most precious possessions.
Then you imprison my apprentice and now you're trying to starve her.
Our prisoners are humanely cared for.
Up until they're humanely executed? Give Elsbeth this food.
That'll be right.
I summon the powers of darkness to rip the scales from this fool's eyes.
May his flesh tremble and his mind reel with visions of Azazel.
So mote it be.
Same to you with bloody bells on! So mote it be! What are you lot looking at? Get back to work! Mmm.
Excuse me? Yes? The other night, you said something to me.
Something Very true.
How did you know? Empathy is one of my gifts.
Pain radiates from you.
I don't know what to do.
I can't stop feeling this way and - my husband - Your husband cannot help you.
I can.
A number of Minerva's potions have proven to be poisonous.
And others had no effect whatsoever.
Have you determined which was used to kill Mr.
Wenders? Unfortunately, no.
None of these concoctions produced the particular constellation of symptoms observed in Mr.
Wenders' death.
So your conclusion is Witchcraft.
Mrs.
Hart, there is no such thing.
He really dislikes that response.
and then, as the years went by, my sweet little boy turned into a conniving, angry young man.
And now, Bobby's just vanished.
MINERVA: I feel your pain.
I have suffered loss as well.
A daughter dead in childbirth.
Well, you seem to have recovered.
Would you like to know how? Please.
I channeled my focus on the flame of a single white candle.
As the wax melted, I saw that the core of my suffering was not the loss itself, but my response to it.
I am a good mother.
I don't understand why this is happening to me.
Self-pity will cripple you.
Reject it.
Instead, channel your intent on creating an outcome you desire.
- How do I do that? - I'll teach you.
First, find a quiet place where you will not be disturbed.
I've pondered the matter extensively and I fail to see a difference between religion and superstition.
There are obvious distinctions, Watts.
Such as? Well, to begin with, we have a set of You yourself subscribe to the belief that a priest can magically change bread and wine into the literal body and blood of Jesus Christ, - which you then eat.
- (echoing laughter) MURDOCH: I'm growing tired of this debate, Watts.
What is your opinion on this, Inspector? Ah? Oh! Oh! (laughing) There! Stay back! (echoing laughter) Ah! (echoing laughter) (shouting) - (cackling) - (shouting) Ah! Get this serpent off my arm! Get the what off your which now? (echoing laughter) Sir? Are you quite all right? Oh.
Oi, look out! (echoing laughter) Ah! (shouting and panting) Handcuffs! Handcuffs! Handcuffs! Fetch Dr.
Ogden now! (echoing laughter) His pulse is stabilizing.
The ipecac should have purged whatever's left in your system.
Are you all right, sir? I've never been so happy to vomit into a bucket in my life.
What happened? I don't know.
My heart was racing, my muscles went all tingly, I saw things.
Horrible things.
Was there anything unusual that you were exposed to? Or that you consumed? The sandwich.
A sandwich? I didn't notice anything off about it.
It was actually quite tasty.
I feel as if I've heard of this before.
Yes! Here it is! William, look! These rye grains are swollen and discolored.
Ergo, ergot.
Ergot? It's a fungus that grows on rye.
When ingested it can cause hallucinations, convulsions, gangrene.
And with repeated exposure, even death.
Could that be what killed Mr.
Wenders? It's possible! And Wenders' claims of seeing flying witches and what have you.
Could be attributed to ergot-induced hallucinations.
You said you found dry gangrene on his ears and toes? Correct.
As well as in the goat.
All the goats must have eaten the rye.
Sir, who gave you the sandwich? It was the witch.
Miss West, why would you try to poison Elsbeth Nighthawk? Poison Elsbeth? That is a vile accusation.
The sandwich you brought her was tainted with ergot-infected rye.
You then fed that same tainted rye to Mr.
Wenders' goats, killing them.
You also tricked Mr.
Wenders into eating it himself.
I don't understand.
I didn't do Our coroner found evidence of ergot poisoning in Mr.
Wenders' body.
Why would you then also try to kill Mr.
Wenders' daughter? But I would never harm Elsbeth.
I love that child.
She's like a daughter to me.
- But the bread - I didn't bake the bread! Then who did? Yes, I baked the bread.
What of it? You used tainted rye.
You tried to poison Minerva West.
Poison her? No.
I milled the flour from the feed that was left after Father's precious goats died.
I wanted to make Minerva a gift, to show my gratitude for all that she has taught me.
I never thought Is she all right? So, the old witch was trying to poison the young witch? Ah, no.
Elsbeth Nighthawk baked the bread and gave it to Minerva West.
So, the young witch was trying to poison the old witch? Miss Nighthawk denies this.
She was shocked at the accusation.
Might have been playacting.
I don't think so.
I believe she has genuine affection for her mentor.
Then Gunther Wenders died of an accidental ergot poisoning? That's possible.
It's not possible.
So, Gunther Wenders was not exposed to ergot? Oh, he was.
But it's not what killed him.
- Are you quite sure? - OGDEN: He died of asphyxiation.
Ergotism causes many of the symptoms he exhibited, but not asphyxiation.
So, we have no idea what killed him? We do have a theory.
Please don't say witchcraft.
Anaphylaxis.
- Brought on by what? - A food intolerance.
Perhaps something he ate in jail.
What's this about? Your inmates are gourmets all of a sudden? We're not here to critique your fine work, Verona.
I just need to know if there was anything unusual about the meal you made that night.
(clears throat) (sighs) It was the same goulash I make every week.
But there was an incident earlier that day.
Someone broke into the kitchen, but - they didn't steal anything.
- Oof.
What kind of cooking oil do you use? Vegetable oil.
That's not vegetable oil.
Soya oil has a strong odour in its unrefined state.
And it's a common trigger of anaphylactic reactions in those who are sensitive to soybeans.
Someone replaced the chef's vegetable oil with soya oil.
Someone who knew Mr.
Wenders would have a fatal reaction to it.
I know you killed your father.
And I know how you did it.
You've finally come to appreciate the power of the dark arts.
- Bravo.
- Greta! Calm down, Mother.
They can't convict me of witchcraft.
That's the beauty of it.
Miss Nighthawk, no one has ever killed anyone with witchcraft.
You poisoned your father and his goats with tainted rye grain.
I never fed his damn goats.
It's true.
Gunther fed them himself, with grain that he scrounged from the millwright's garbage bin, the cheapskate.
Father got that grain from the garbage? - When the ergot didn't - Who is "Ergot"? You can't invent your own demons, you know.
When the ergot fungus didn't kill your father, you exploited his sensitivity.
My father? Sensitive? Your father had a sensitivity to soya oil.
That's what killed him.
No, it was the curse I placed upon him.
The soya oil caused his throat to swell shut.
My detective watched him die.
Lucky detective.
Miss Nighthawk, have you no compassion? Your father's death was horrific.
His limbs seized.
He gasped and clawed at his throat in an attempt to breathe.
And his face went red as a beet? His eyes bulged from the sockets? Miss Nighthawk? One winter night, you made us dinner.
Father took a few bites and he started wheezing.
He turned blue, thrashing for air.
He collapsed on the kitchen table.
- And we thought he - Greta, be still.
You did this for me.
Thank you, Mother.
Thank you.
Thank you.
When I learned he could be released, I thought this was our only chance to flee.
You were planning to leave your husband? Gunther was a selfish, cruel man.
A bully.
The way he treated Greta.
She only wants to be happy.
And if that girl makes her happy, then I've been saving money to take her away from that house, but Gunther found it and stole it to buy those goats.
You knew of your husband's sensitivity to soya oil, so you snuck some into the cook's pantry to poison him, hoping the witch would be blamed.
I did.
I'm glad he's dead.
Now Greta can be free.
MARGARET: Wound and winding.
Winding, wound.
Search the air, the sea, the ground.
Until the one who's lost is found.
- Return to me.
- Margaret! Have you lost your mind? - Leave me alone.
- What's come over you? I am sick and tired of waiting for you to do something about Bobby! - Drop the knife! - No! No! I know something's troubling you! Please! Let me help you.
Come here.
Come here.
I can help you.
I can.
Calm down.
Shh.
I can help you.
- I want my son! - Yes! Let me go! Let me go! (sighs and sobs)