The Murdoch Mysteries (2004) s18e20 Episode Script

(ENCHANTING MUSIC)
(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)
I'll see this gets sent out today.
(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)
(LAUGHING)
(JULIA): William. It was wonderful
to have you with us in London.
Susannah and I are missing
you more than ever.
I hate to deliver the news this way,
but the miles between
us give me no choice.
I've received a grant to
expand the teaching hospital.
It's exciting for women's
medical education, of course,
but it also means that
I'll be remaining in London
for the next year, at least.
Love, Julia.
(RAPID KNOCKING AT DOOR)
Miss Longfellow, now
is not a good time
Trust me, you are going
to want to see this.
- What is it?
- Evidence of a crime
you and I are going to
prevent from occurring.
(THEME MUSIC)
Start at the beginning.
Well, this is what we in the
postal service call a dead letter.
It's mail that can't be delivered
but also can't be returned.
I thought dead letters were
meant to be incinerated.
Oh! Yes, they are.
But only once we're absolutely
certain they're dead.
And you see
Sometimes I can bring
the letters back to life,
as it were, by reading
the letters' contents.
Mm. And, in this case,
you've found evidence of a crime?
A forthcoming crime.
"I've seen you in the window
and I won't be ignored."
"Answer me or else."
Well, this is certainly
threatening in tone,
but I don't see how this
is a matter for the police.
Well, Detective,
clearly the author of this note
is tired of being ignored by someone
and is preparing to take action!
But this could just as easily
be a prank of some sort.
And because there is
no decipherable address,
or any other details,
there's nothing we can do.
- Well, but
- My answer is no.
(SIGHS)
(JAZZY MUSIC)
Sir! I was delighted to get your call.
I feel we haven't had a proper chin wag
since I got back from
my writing sojourn.
Indeed, George. Actually,
that's what I was hoping
to speak with you about.
- Well, it was quite the adventure, sir.
- Mm.
I was wondering:
how did you and Effie manage
all of that time apart?
Oh.
Well, certainly, sir, it wasn't easy.
I think it helped that we were both
- kept quite busy by our own work.
- Mm.
- You're missing Dr. Ogden?
- (SIGHS)
Every day.
I-I could manage just fine
when I knew that her time
in London had a specific end.
But now I
Has something changed, sir?
Oh! Yes, uh, I received this.
She's been asked to expand
the teaching hospital, sir.
That's wonderful!
Another year at least.
Sir, that will be difficult
on a personal level,
but think about all the
good the doctor is doing.
That cannot be denied.
- And yet I
- (DISHES CLANGING)
(CROWD MURMURING)
That's enough!
(GRUNTING)
Let's go.
Get out!
Well done, Miss Hart.
Are you all right?
Just another night in paradise.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
Ooh. Miss Longfellow. Excuse me.
Oh, no! No excuses needed.
I was just on my way to see you.
I've made progress on our case.
Our
- As I said last night
- Nothing to be done
without an address. Yes.
But I've solved that problem,
at least partially.
- Oh. You've made a pencil rubbing.
- Mm-hmm.
I noticed indentations on the letter
and that led me to
suspect that the envelope
had, in fact, been addressed
after it was sealed.
It seems you were correct.
So does that mean that you'll help me?
(INTRIGUING MUSIC)
Sir, has a case come in?
Oh! No, I'm helping my
neighbour with a project.
Or at least I'm trying to,
but I've had no success.
Sir, what sort of rooming
house have you moved into
that there would be blood
on your neighbour's mail?
Oh! That's not blood and
that's not what I'm after.
The faded ink or graphite
markings of the address,
I was hoping they could be
revealed by ultraviolet light,
but, uh
no.
I wonder if
How is taking a
photograph going to help?
The physicist Robert
Wood has had some success
photographing, uh, using infrared light
with long exposure.
I'm not sure I understand.
Oh. Uh, both ink and graphite
are visible under infrared light,
so perhaps using Mr. Wood's technique
will reveal the address on the envelope.
- I see.
- Of course the focal length
is much too great.
Sir, have you given any
thought to Dr. Ogden's letter?
Yes! I'll be joining them in
London as soon as possible.
Sir, you don't mean to say
You're not leaving the
constabulary, are you?
I-I-I realize that was quite
sudden and I apologize, George.
But, yes, I-I-I need
to be with my family.
Yes, of course.
(SOMBER MUSIC)
You don't, you don't need me to tell you
you'll be sorely missed.
And Dr. Ogden will be thrilled.
Yes.
At least I-I think
so. I've yet to receive
word or-or-or her
thoughts on the matter.
Detective.
I must say I am quite tickled
that you invited me to lunch.
I-I'm sure I said we
should meet outside.
Did you? Oh.
Well, a man has to eat!
And I already ordered for us both.
Sit, sit, sit!
Beans and sausage. How did you know ?
Know that they're your favourite?
An educated guess based on
what I've seen in your trash.
Now, Detective! I'm very eager
to hear what you've
learned about our threat!
Uh
Harwell Hotel, Room 3. (GASPS)
You did it!
Note that the sender does not
include an intended recipient,
nor his own return address.
It's all the more likely
something nefarious is afoot.
Shall we go to the Harwell Hotel?
No! No, after our lunch.
Uh, unfortunately, I can't.
I'm expecting an urgent
overseas telegram from my wife.
Oh!
Well, I suppose I can just go on my own.
You will do no such thing.
Well, I thought the
whole point of discovering
- the recipient was to warn them.
- And you can.
- How?
- By placing the letter inside
of a new envelope and sending it along.
Oh, you must be joking!
I assure you I am not.
Harwell Hotel, please.
(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)
It came in while you were out, sir.
(JULIA): "As you said yourself,
we each have a duty and it's
not always to each other.
The constabulary needs you.
You must remain in Toronto
and I in London."
I'm sorry, sir. I know
it's not the response
you were hoping for.
That's rather an understatement.
Excuse me.
- Oh!
- Ah, Miss, can I help you?
I'm fine, thank you.
I-I'm sorry to interrupt, but
Oh, you got your telegram.
What can I do for you, Miss Longfellow?
You can read this, for a start.
"You've made your bed.
Enjoy your last few days on Earth."
Where did you get this?
It was in the return-to-sender
box after our lunch.
I noticed it because of the address.
I-I think you'll agree, the
threats have intensified.
Indeed. And despite the
continued lack of return address,
it's at least now possible for us
- to warn the potential victim.
- Channing Brown, yes.
If I can find him.
I'm a police detective with
the Toronto Constabulary.
I assure you we can find him.
We.
So, are you saying
you are going to help me?
Yes, Miss Longfellow.
And we'd best hurry.
A man's life could be in danger.
- Oh. Good day, Mister and Missus ?
- (GIGGLING)
Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.
I need a forwarding
address for a former guest,
a Mr. Channing Brown.
I wish I had one myself.
Mr. Brown didn't leave an address?
Mr. Brown has never been a guest here.
But if you find him, perhaps
you can give him these.
Ah, more threats, as I suspected.
These postmarks are all from last month.
Someone's been trying to
reach Mr. Brown for some time.
Well, we should be thankful that
whoever that is had the wrong address.
Hm. I'm not so sure.
You mentioned that in the first note
they said they saw Mr.
Brown in the window.
Yes. Of course.
Of course! So he was a
guest here at some point.
Is he lying?
Or
someone gave their
alias, Channing Brown,
to whomever is now
writing these threats.
You are a genius, Detective Murdoch.
I wouldn't say that.
So now that we have the names
of everyone who stayed in Room 3
We just need to figure out which one
used the alias Channing Brown.
Oh! Uh, one of the forwarding addresses
is just around the corner here.
Should we start there?
- Yes, let's.
- All right.
- But first!
- Oh.
Thank you for helping me.
And thank you for being
a concerned citizen.
Detective Murdoch.
Miss Hart! What a surprise.
I'll say.
Uh, my neighbour, Miss Longfellow.
We are investigating
a-a string of-of threats.
Uh, no need to explain.
What you do in your free
time is your business.
Good day.
Of course. Please, come in. Please.
(TYPEWRITER CLICKING)
Billy, dear,
there's a detective here
who wants to speak to you.
Uh, just give me a moment more.
(CHUCKLING)
Billy's a brilliant novelist.
Soon the whole world will know it.
- You're his secretary?
- Oh, goodness no!
I'm his benefactress, Juliet Medland.
Now, then.
What did you wish to speak to me about?
(CLEARS THROAT) Your
time at the Harwell Hotel.
For how long were you a resident?
Two weeks?
But that was months ago,
before Juliet offered me this
suite to live and work in.
Mm.
You were registered under your own name,
but do ever have cause to use an alias?
A pen name, you mean?
- Like Mark Twain?
- Like Channing Brown.
That doesn't sound authorial at all.
Nonetheless, the
individual behind this name
has been the target of
several threatening letters.
Are you sure you've never
used the alias Channing Brown?
I am.
Besides, I don't have
an enemy in the world.
Oh, sir. A moment?
Uh, yes. Miss Longfellow,
you can have a seat in my office.
The next potential Mr. Brown
should be along shortly.
Hm.
- What have you, George?
- Oh, nothing actually, sir.
I was just wondering, or rather
Effie and I were wondering,
if you would like to come for dinner.
We thought it might
brighten your spirits.
Oh, that-that's very thoughtful.
But I believe I'll be
otherwise engaged this evening.
With this new case, you mean?
That's correct.
- It's fascinating.
- I'm sure.
Well, is there anything I can do?
Uh, no. I-I believe Miss
Longfellow and myself
have it all under control.
- Oh, there is one thing!
- Sir?
A Mr. Martineau should
be arriving shortly.
If you could please show him
to my office when he does?
- Yes, of course.
- Thank you, George.
Yes, I stayed in Room
3 at the Harwell Hotel,
but I am not Channing Brown,
despite what you or
anyone else might think.
Anyone else?
Are we not the first to ask
you about this Mr. Brown?
Not exactly.
A man came to my door
at the Harwell Hotel
several weeks ago
looking for a Dr. Brown.
Ooh! Doctor, Mister, they
must be one and the same!
Now, what did he say to you?
Was he quite threatening?
You can answer, Mr. Martineau.
He was agitated.
Not that I can blame him.
Apparently, Brown drove his
wife to jump off a bridge.
He what?!
- Sorry.
- Uh,
did this man tell you
anything else, either about
his wife's death or her
connection to this Dr. Brown?
He did not.
Well, did he at least tell you his name?
- No.
- Oh.
Now, may I?
Yes, you may go. Thank
you, Mr. Martineau.
Do you think the man
who came to his door
is the one who authored those threats?
I believe it's possible. And
I think I may know a
way to identify him.
What's this?
managers at the Starbright.
I see.
Hope I didn't overstep?
It's not that.
But I can see you're upset.
I like my evenings at the club, Isaiah.
- It's lively.
- And sometimes dangerous.
At least I'm surrounded by the living.
It's a nice change from
spending my days in here.
Detective.
Miss Hart. Am I interrupting?
I was just leaving.
Everything all right?
me that I don't want to give.
Mm.
All relationships require negotiation.
Negotiation.
Does that explain what I
witnessed you doing earlier
with that young woman on the street?
What you witnessed
was a concerned citizen
thanking me for my help
as a police detective.
(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)
Were you able to find those
files that I requested?
Yes.
There was one matching
your specifications,
an Andrea Etter.
Died in a fall from Flindon
Bridge six months ago.
Very good. Thank you.
Yes, I went to the Harwell Hotel.
But I simply wanted to speak
to Andrea's psychiatrist.
Channing Brown.
(SCOFFS) Some doctor.
Supposed to make my wife better, not
drive her to take her own life.
You must've been furious with him.
I was. I am upset.
Sweet Andrea.
Mr. Etter, have you
ever attempted to contact
this Dr. Brown via the post?
No, never.
I only learned the
whereabouts of his practice
on the day I tried to speak with him.
(LONGFELLOW): Mr. Etter
could have been lying.
It's possible. He seemed
credible to me, though.
Oh, oh! To me, too.
Goodness, we're no closer
to finding the author
of these threats or this man
who calls himself Mr. Brown.
- Mr. Randall.
- Uh-uh, Mr. Brown.
Mr. Randall is the young
author that we met at
Mr. Randall!
- Are you all right? Your jacket!
- Ruined, I know.
Some maniac ran me down in the street.
- How terrifying.
- Oh, it was terrifying, indeed.
You witnessed the accident?
Sir, if I didn't know any better,
I would think the driver was aiming
for poor Mr. Randall here.
Is that right?
Sir, do you think
this could be connected
to the case you two are working on?
That's a question for Mr. Randall.
Like I said before,
I don't have an enemy in the world.
This is just a nasty coincidence is all.
Right. Well, in that case, as you were.
Sir.
Some coincidence.
If you ask me, Billy
Randall is Channing Brown
and whoever ran him down is
the author of those threats.
I think you're right.
Really?
Because there is one
thing I-I don't understand,
which is why Mr. Randall is-is
continuing with this ruse.
People often lie when they
have something to hide.
Well, it must be some
kind of secret to keep it
even after being run down.
Indeed.
I can see your mind working.
What are you thinking?
If we can ascertain the
nature of Mr. Randall's secret,
it may help us uncover
who wants him dead.
Great minds. I was thinking
the exact same thing.
Meet me tonight at the
Ashbury Hotel at eight p.m.
- Miss Longfellow
- And don't be late!
Miss Longfellow,
- what exactly is your
Shh-shh-shh!
Ta-da!
I don't understand.
Well, Mr. Randall's
suite is right next door,
which gives us the perfect
vantage to keep an eye
and an ear on him.
Go, have a listen!
These walls are surprisingly
thin for such a fancy hotel.
All I hear is tapping.
(TYPEWRITER CLICKING)
Yes, Mr. Randall's typewriter, no doubt.
I'm sure we'll hear something
telling sooner or later.
That's if our theory is correct.
No, no, no. I am certain
he is Channing Brown.
And if today's accident
was, in fact, on purpose
then the letter writer is intent
to make good on his threats.
But there's nothing to say
that that will be tonight.
Or that the letter writer is aware
of Mr. Randall's new
residence, for that matter.
Well, do you want to take that chance?
Well, your plan has some merit.
But we can't simply stay here all night
on the off chance that
something should happen.
Detective, we have to think
of Mr. Randall's safety!
I can post a constable
to stand guard all night.
Yes, all right. Fine.
But until then, whenever that is,
I'm going to make
myself more comfortable.
And I think you should do the same.
(CURIOUS MUSIC)
Miss Longfellow, what are you wearing?
Oh, I thought we should play the part,
in case someone might see us.
We're in a private room!
Who's going to see us?
Well, the hotel staff, for a start.
Oh. I ordered us room service.
We are not on vacation.
Speak for yourself.
We have to eat. Oh!
And the bellboy
might know something
of Mr. Randall's secret.
(WOMAN SCREAMS)
Detective?
Oh! That was incredible.
What's happened?
Wake up, my darling. Wake.
(GASPS) Somebody's killed my Channing!
(SOBBING)
He was working on his novel
when I went to bathe at nine,
and when I came back,
he was dead. Poor boy.
A boy you knew as Channing Brown?
How else would I know him?
I-is this all?
I-I'm eager to leave.
Mrs. Gregoire, a man has been murdered.
This is a police investigation.
One that I would rather
not be dragged into
any more than necessary. You see,
my husband is a very public figure.
Your husband?
Wait, do you mean to say that
your husband is Arthur Gregoire,
the Archdeacon of Toronto?
You see why I would appreciate
any discretion that you could offer.
(SIGHS)
I'll expect you in my office
first thing in the morning.
Thank you, Detective. Good night.
Sir.
Oh! Miss Longfellow. Pardon me.
Um, sir, a couple of things.
Ah, Miss Hart believes that Mr. Randall
was smothered in his sleep.
Also,
no hotel staff or guests
reported hearing anything
out of the ordinary
prior to Miss Gregoire's scream.
No, I wouldn't expect so.
We were right next door and we
didn't hear so much as a peep.
We?
As in, you and ?
We were keeping an eye out
for Mr. Randall's safety, rightly so.
I see.
Maybe Mrs. Gregoire killed Randall.
She's the only person
known to be in the room.
No. If she was the murderer
she wouldn't have called
attention to herself by screaming.
Oh, yes, I suppose so.
What would an aspiring
author need a ledger for?
Oh, I can speak to that from experience.
As a writer, it's very
important to track your expenses.
I don't believe that's
what's happening here.
What else would these names and
dollar figures be in reference to?
I believe Mr. Randall was
keeping track of monies
received from women,
including Mrs. Gregoire.
What would a woman like
her be paying him f
Oh.
Oh, I see.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Ephraim Currant.
Isaiah Buchanan.
I see you've met Mr. Currant.
He's an acquaintance
in the neighbourhood
and he's agreed to take over
as management at the club.
What? That's wonderful!
You don't mind that I didn't hire
Not at all.
I can't pretend that I'm surprised.
You didn't seem keen when
we discussed this earlier.
I wasn't.
Well, at least not at first.
Well, what changed your mind?
Detective Murdoch, actually.
Well,
- cheers to Detective Murdoch.
- Hm.
What I don't understand
is how Mr. Randall
had the stamina for all these women.
Oh, good! You're here.
Perfect timing, George. What have you?
Well, sir, I visited all the
hotels in Randall's ledger.
It turns out that he
was indeed exchanging
ah, companionship for money.
But Channing Brown was not
the only pseudonym he used.
- It wasn't?
- No.
He also used the names
Darcy Tweddle, Stuart Power,
Manuel Stubbs,
Randall Flicker, and Chud Johnson.
That explains it!
Last night I noticed that Mr. Randall
put initials next to each of
the client's names in his book.
They must represent the pseudonyms
that he uses with each of the clients!
Sir, brilliant thinking.
And that certainly narrows
down our suspect list.
Right. Please arrange interviews
with each of the clients that
knew him as Channing Brown.
Sir, right away.
Is it really the clients
we should be looking into?
What about the jealous
husbands like Mr. Gregoire?
Are you suggesting the
Archdeacon of Toronto
murdered Billy Randall?
Surely just the thought of one's spouse
even considering cheating is enough
to make someone murderous.
Hm.
Well, I won't rule out that possibility.
But it could just as easily be
one of Mr. Randall's
clients who is our killer.
What cause would one of his
clients have to do such a thing?
That's what I intend to uncover,
along with which,
if any, of the husbands
knew of the affairs.
You're not saying you intend to
conduct these interviews alone.
I am.
- But
- These conversations will be delicate.
It-it's for the best.
Well, in that case,
perhaps I can go look into the husbands
- and try to see if
- You will do no such thing.
You are to remain here
- at the station house.
- But,
- I was the
- There's a killer on the loose,
Miss Longfellow. I will
not have you in any danger.
- Would you like some tea?
- Yes, thank you.
You stated that you were in the bath
from nine until ten p.m.
and that you didn't see or hear
anything amiss until
you discovered the body.
Yes. We went over this last night.
I'm simply ensuring that
I have all of the facts.
Hm.
Now, I presume that the Archdeacon
was unaware of your
relations with the victim.
One should never presume, Detective.
Arthur and I love each other very much,
but our love no longer
extends to the physical.
And as such,
I am free to have those
needs met elsewhere.
- If I may?
- Mm.
How do you reconcile this
arrangement with your faith?
Our arrangement,
as unusual as it is,
allows us to remain freely and
happily committed to one another.
And isn't that the very heart
of the marriage covenant?
You simply must find the scoundrel
who did this to poor dear Billy.
That's what I wanted
to speak with you about
and you'll have to pardon the
blunt questions, but, uh
were you just Mr.
Randall's benefactress?
You want to know if we were lovers.
I do.
We were.
And it didn't bother you
that he had other sources of income?
Not a whit.
What Billy and I have
had went far beyond the tawdry relations
he had with those other women.
Did your husband know the
depth of the relationship
you had with Mr. Randall?
Certainly not.
(SIGHS) Oh, this is just mortifying.
My liaison with Mr. Brown
was the biggest mistake of my life.
It was not ongoing?
No! I ended things months ago.
So why am I here?
Your name was on one of Mr.
Brown's client lists, Mrs. Campbell.
Am I to be charged with a crime?
Not for the affair, no.
But there is the matter of the murder
of the man you knew as Channing Brown.
- Channing was killed?
- Mm.
After receiving numerous threats.
Oh! How awful.
You don't think I had anything
to do with this, I hope.
That's what I aim to ascertain.
Of course I didn't!
All I wanted was to put
this whole thing behind me.
I love my husband, Detective.
What of your husband?
Was he aware of your liaison?
Gavin is a jealous man.
If he'd discovered my secret,
I wouldn't be sitting
here with you today.
(CURIOUS MUSIC)
What is he doing in there?
Where's he going?
Oh! Uh.
Good Lord!
Miss Longfellow, what
on Earth are you doing?
This could be evidence.
Collected it from the husband
of one of Mr. Randall's clients.
I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?
I was just saying
something strange did happen
one evening when Channing
and I were out together.
- Go on.
- It was several months ago.
A man marched right up to Channing
and punched him in the face.
Said he had driven
his wife to her death.
You lied to me, Mr. Etter.
You told me you had
never met Channing Brown.
I'm sorry.
I was embarrassed to
admit the true reason
my wife chose to end her life.
Just what was it about Mr. Brown
that drove your wife to suicide?
She was
hopelessly in love with him.
But all he cared about
was the money she gave him.
In the end, it got to
be too much for her.
So you attacked him in the street?
I punched him, yes.
But I didn't write him those notes.
And I didn't kill him.
(KNOCKING AT DOOR)
Excuse me.
Sir, I'm sorry for the interruption,
but I just took a
statement from a witness
to the car accident who
gave me a partial license.
Matching Mr. Etter's vehicle?
No, sir. Matching Gavin
Campbell's vehicle.
And I found this in
Gavin Campbell's trash.
"Enjoy your last few days."
It's a match to the final threat.
What's going on?
It's police business,
Mrs. Campbell. Step aside.
Please don't tell Gavin about my affair.
- He'll never forgive me.
- Oh, I believe he already knows.
Gavin Campbell,
you are under arrest on suspicion
of the murder of Billy Randall,
also known as Channing Brown.
This is absurd! I'm no killer!
Mr. Campbell, you have no
alibi for Mr. Randall's murder,
nor the earlier attempt on his life.
That doesn't make me guilty!
- Were you aware of your wife's affair?
- Don't answer that.
A partial license plate and five words
on a typewriter ribbon
is not sufficient cause
to hold my client.
- Let's go, Mr. Campbell.
- We are not finished here.
We are. And if you or any
other member of the constabulary
wish to question my client again,
you'll need to do so with me present.
Well, did he confess?
No. He left after insisting
upon his innocence.
No. But it's plain as day
that he killed Mr. Randall.
Well, sometimes plain
as day isn't sufficient.
We need more evidence.
What we need is a confession.
(WHISTLING)
Mr. Currant.
Did everything go well
after I left last night?
Usual crops of troublemakers,
but nothing I couldn't handle.
Glad to hear it.
Now, shall we talk about
the real reason I hired you?
Thought you'd never ask.
You've heard about the violence
perpetrated by Tony Petrucci?
Experienced it firsthand.
Last bar I managed got firebombed
when the owner refused
to pay a protection fee
- to Petrucci's thugs.
- How awful.
It's just a mess.
One I'd like us to clean up together.
How do you propose we do that?
By starting a program to
help businesses keep safe
from Petrucci and men like him.
Hm. I can see the appeal,
especially given your
connections in the constabulary.
Yes. Well, my position, I think,
will make people eager to participate.
But this is separate from that.
Entirely so.
We can't count on the
police for everything.
Don't I know it.
This new program
I'm guessing it won't be
free for folks to join.
A small fee would only be fair, I think,
given the amount of work it will take.
There's my girl.
- Ready for dinner?
- Yes. Just finishing up here.
- Are we in agreement, Mr. Currant?
- We are, Miss Hart.
Wonderful.
What did you say your name was?
Iris Cooke. I work for your lawyer.
Mr. Pullman.
Right. I just came by to
pick up some paperwork.
I-I delivered everything this afternoon.
Oh, yes! That's right.
Right! We must have
gotten our wires crossed.
Well, you came all this way.
Least I can do is offer you a drink.
You could probably use one yourself
after the day you've had.
(SIGHS) It was a difficult day.
For what it's worth, I think the law
should be amended to exclude murder
committed as a result of infidelity.
Because you must have been just furious
when you discovered your wife's affair.
- Not at all.
- Oh?
It gave me the freedom
to pursue my own desires.
Oh.
Oh! Oh, I see.
So you didn't kill anyone?
(SCOFFS) Of course not.
I'm all about love, Miss Cooke.
Right, right. But what about
the typewriter ribbon
and-and your car and
If you didn't kill Billy
Randall, someone else
living in this house definitely did.
Well, aren't you just the cleverest?
Anna.
- What did you do?
- She killed Billy Randall. Why?
Because he left me, that's why.
And I am not a woman who gets left.
Calling your detective
friend? I don't think so.
- What are you doing?
- Making sure she keeps my secret.
(WHIMPERING) Stop!
Oh! Oh!
It's over, Mrs. Campbell.
I had nothing to do with this.
- George!
- Not so fast, Mr. Campbell.
Oh, no, you don't!
(GRUNTING)
Well done, Miss Longfellow.
What a night.
What a pair of nights.
My goodness, this has been fun.
But, you know, there is one thing
that I still haven't figured out.
What's that?
Well, how did you know
that I was in danger?
I had Constable Crabtree
keep an eye on you
after your afternoon adventure
of evidence gathering.
I don't know whether to
be offended or touched.
While you take a moment
to consider that, uh,
thank you.
You saved my life.
- If you'd acted just a moment later
- Oh, no, no, no.
I-I don't think I
could bear the thought.
(SOFT MUSIC)
(GUNSHOT)
Was that a gunshot?
- (GEORGE): Detective!
- George!
Sir, come back.
Mrs. Medland, put the gun down.
She's dead?
What did you do?
I gave her what she deserved
for killing my Billy. (GASPING)
And now you can do
with me what you will.
You'll be heading straight
to our cells, for a start.
Take back what I said
about this being fun.
Yes, this sort of scene does
tend to have that effect.
Sir! You're up and out early.
Morning. Yes, uh, planning
to get an early start
on the paperwork for Mrs.
Medland's arraignment.
Good thinking. Early
bird and all of that.
Sir, I've been meaning
to ask how you're feeling
with Dr. Ogden insisting
that you remain in Toronto?
Oh, to be honest I haven't
given it much thought
with all the excitement
of the past few days.
Oh.
That surprises you?
I've just never known you to be
quite that lost in your work, sir.
George, have I told you how
glad I am to have you back?
Always nice to hear it again.
The truth is I miss Julia
and Susannah terribly.
But Julia's right: my work is here.
Indeed, sir. And it sounds like
she's flourishing in London.
She and Susannah both!
It's an impossible situation.
But I know who my heart is with
and we will find a way to make it work.
Very good, sir.
(SOFT MUSIC)
- Miss Longfellow.
- Detective Murdoch.
(THEME MUSIC)