MARGARET: Have you talked to Detective Murdoch?
BRACKENREID: Both Murdoch and McWorthy think
that arresting John makes sense.
Apparently there's evidence.
Oof! Evidence, my eye.
Our son hasn't done anything wrong.
- I know that, Margaret. - [ Sighs ]
I don't want you to set foot in this hospital
until you've cleared our son's name.
[ Knock on door ]
Constable, as his doctor, I must ask that you wait outside.
Thank you, Dr. Ogden.
DR. OGDEN: Let's see how you're healing.
I still can't feel my legs.
Can you move your toes for me?
[ Sighs ]
John, it's possible that there's still swelling near the spine,
which will abate in time.
But we have to consider the possibility...
Am I interrupting?
We'll talk soon, all right?
I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner.
How are you?
They think I killed Lucille Palmer.
John, I...
I'm sorry.
Remember what you told me before?
"Saying sorry doesn't change anything,
so why waste energy in saying it"?
WATTS: It sounds callous.
It's true.
Well, I mixed you up in this.
- And it's my fault. - No. It's...
Look, I knew Sutton was dangerous,
and I kept that from you.
Now they think I'm a murderer.
But I'm not.
RICHARDS: Toronto's new chief coroner.
You must have friends in high places.
I resent your implication, Mr. Richards.
I've earned this position.
- I'm sure. - [ Camera shutter clicks ]
Congratulations, Miss Hart.
Thank you, Inspector.
What did you want to talk to me about?
John doesn't remember shooting Mr. Sutton.
Also, John stated that he heard footsteps
when he entered the room.
Mr. Sutton wasn't wearing any shoes.
And he was found seated, holding the gun.
- Was someone else there? - Perhaps.
I've asked Miss Hart to test Mr. Sutton's hands
for any gunpowder residue.
Just as the detective suspected, I found no trace.
Sir, the man who shot John is still at large.
And I intend to find him.
[ Indistinct conversations ]
John went into that building
to investigate Lucille Palmer's murder.
Perhaps whoever shot him did so
to keep the truth from coming out.
Sir, could that have been Arthur Carmichael?
I mean, he pointed the finger at John.
- Bring him in, George. - Sir.
- Your office is so dreary. - MURDOCH: I didn't ask you here
for decorating advice, Mr. Carmichael.
- Have a seat. - No, you asked me here
to blame me for something your boss' son did.
How well do you know Grant Sutton?
I knew he was a damn fool.
Violent, too.
We believe someone else may have been involved the night
that my constable was shot.
- Where were you? - I was at home.
Can anyone confirm this?
That might be tricky.
I was giving a party that night.
Only about 80 of my dearest friends
and colleagues can attest to my whereabouts.
Constable Crabtree.
You'll be pleased to know you can have your desk back.
- I've concluded my research. - Oh.
About your book...
What, the one you read without my permission?
Yes. Allow me to apologize again.
I didn't mean any offense. I...
I glanced at it and then couldn't stop reading.
Oh, really? So you quite liked it.
Oh, I just tore through it.
The first three chapters were moving, honest, gripping.
But then... it rather falls apart
when the little men from Venus arrive.
I mean, really, they just chase the main character around,
and it becomes silly.
Silly?
Well, thank you, Miss Newsome.
Considering I never asked you to read,
let alone critique, my work.
I was only trying to help.
Yes, well, maybe next time, you can keep your help to yourself.
MURDOCH: Arthur Carmichael has an alibi
for the shooting of Grant Sutton.
But we don't yet know his whereabouts
for the shooting of Lucille Palmer.
So you have no idea where he was for...
four days?
So it would seem.
At any rate, he's our most compelling suspect.
CRABTREE: Right.
Well, we know it wasn't Grant Sutton.
I mean, if it wasn't Carmichael, who else is there?
I hate to level such an accusation,
but Inspector McWorthy may have been involved
in covering up the murder.
CRABTREE: You don't think he did it himself?
I don't know.
But if he was involved in covering up one murder,
he may have been involved in covering up more.
JOHN: Who did Lucille address the letter to?
It doesn't say.
She wrote that she was carrying a child
and wants the father to marry her.
I swear... She never told me any of this.
BRACKENREID: Are you sure?
She was just trying to trap you.
Isabel.
ISABEL: I'm sorry I got so angry.
I forgive you.
I've never seen that letter.
It couldn't have been meant for me.
The piece of bullet they found in Miss Palmer
came from your gun.
That's impossible. I didn't kill her.
I wasn't even there when Lucille was shot.
And no one else knew that you'd been carrying a gun around.
Did they, John?
No.
You finally agreed to have a drink with me.
I felt like celebrating.
So, all it took was you getting a raise?
Well, a drink for this promotion,
and just think what we'll do the next time I get promoted.
But you're coroner now.
What's higher than that?
[ Chuckles ] I'm sure I'll think of something.
Will you be having a drink with any of the other inspectors?
No.
Just you.
What an awful place to die.
Indeed.
How did John Brackenreid ever fall in with such company?
Let's focus on the bullet's trajectory, George.
The bullet that killed Lucille Palmer
traveled straight through her heart
and exited just left of her ninth vertebra.
Where was the body found?
Uh... on the floor next to the bed.
And the bullet?
In the mattress.
I suppose she was lying there in the bed,
was shot, tried to crawl away, and ended up on the floor.
I don't think so.
Sir, the lads from Station House One
said they found the bullet in the mattress right here.
Well, that may be, George,
but that's not the bullet that killed her.
That bullet exited her body.
Do you see any blood here?
Someone shot Lucille Palmer, then shot the mattress.
Planting a bullet from John's gun.
Whoever it was would have had to have gotten John's gun,
shot the mattress, then taken a shard of the bullet
and placed it inside Miss Palmer's body.
Was John's gun placed in the evidence lockup
at Station House One?
Yes, after he was shot.
I'm having George take a look at their evidence logbook.
Excuse me, gentlemen. May I have a moment?
We're busy, I'm afraid, Miss Hart.
VIOLET: I'm sorry. This may be important.
A few days ago, I noticed the spare key
for the cold storage room was missing.
When exactly did you notice this?
Monday, I believe.
Whoever stole that key could have planted
the bullet shard in Miss Palmer.
They would have had to have taken.
John's gun out of evidence first.
Inspector McWorthy.
It was him, Murdoch.
He shot my son and then framed him for murder.
Yes, sir. And if that's the case,
he'll spend the rest of his days behind bars.
Thank you, Miss Hart.
[ Suspenseful music plays ]
He was like this when I found him.
Fortunate for you.
Still, very odd.
He died from a blow to the back of the head.
Likely with this.
I'll have to examine it for fingermarks.
Who would want him dead?
Present company excluded, of course.
Oh, and I found this in his jacket pocket.
Let's see if it's familiar to Miss Hart.
Is this the key to your cold storage room, Miss Hart?
Yes. Where did you find it?
Inspector McWorthy's pocket.
- He stole it? - He must have.
In which case he could have planted the bullet fragment
in Lucille Palmer's body.
Do you really think he would frame Constable Brackenreid
- for her murder? - MURDOCH: It's possible.
He was hit in the back of the head with a large paperweight.
I believe you'll conclude that the cause of death
was blunt-force trauma.
Of course. I'll get to work.
[ Door opens, closes ]
Where do you think it will land?
[ Chuckles ] I have no idea.
I've dropped this marble from the same position every time.
Each time, the outcome is different.
It shouldn't be.
Do you want a drink?
Yes, please.
One for the lady.
So, are we to blame for the results of our actions
if the outcome is not predictable?
Of course we are.
Or do we just feel we should take responsibility
even though we have no control?
We have control.
John Brackenreid is lying in a bed in the hospital,
facing the possibility he may never walk again,
because I refused to wait for a more-experienced surgeon.
And my actions put you into the position you're in.
Or did they?
Perhaps the way things turn out is beyond our control.
I don't believe that.
Look at that. 100 points!
Is that the paperweight that killed McWorthy?
I believe so.
I've obtained some fingermarks from it.
I'd like to compare them to Arthur Carmichael's.
Sir, weren't they friends?
I don't know if I'd go so far as to call them friends.
I believe McWorthy may have been in Arthur Carmichael's pocket.
Perhaps he drew the line at murder.
- Have you found anything? - Well, sir, I went down
to Station House One to have a look at the logbook.
It's not there. It's been subpoenaed
by the Crown attorney's office.
The board hasn't met as of yet to decide on your position.
[ Chuckles ] With all due respect, sir,
that isn't why I'm here.
I need access to Station House One's evidence-room logbook.
- I believe... - I wish I could help you.
But that logbook is being held as evidence in another case.
Sir, it's very important that I see that book.
I'm sorry.
Do you think he's telling the truth, sir?
MURDOCH: Well, I'd certainly like to think so.
I might have a way of finding out.
It wouldn't be entirely legal.
Then perhaps it's best you don't tell me.
- Detective. - Miss Newsome.
Constable.
I see they've let you out of the station.
Miss Newsome, actually, I came by. I wanted to apologize.
I truly regret my harsh words.
You were trying to give some constructive criticism
on my book, and I...
well, I took it poorly, to say the least.
And I shouldn't have taken your manuscript.
Care to join me?
I haven't the time.
In fact...
...I have a favor to ask you.
Regarding the Crown attorney's office.
- That's why you apologized? - No.
I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't very important.
Now, Detective Murdoch needs to see a page
from the logbook from Station House One.
You're the only person I know who could get that.
Detective Murdoch involved in subterfuge?
CRABTREE: Only very mildly.
Isn't he up for the inspector position?
He is, which is why we need to be very discreet about this.
Why is this book so important?
Well, that's a long story.
Then you can help me finish this sandwich while you convince me.
What kind of sandwich is it?
He was always such an athletic boy.
[ Breathes deeply ] Always first in every race.
Margaret, you must stop talking like this.
I suppose we'll have to get him his own wheelchair now.
If they allow one in prison.
Mother, stop. I won't go to prison.
Then why is there a guard outside your door?
And why isn't your father out clearing your name?
He will. Won't you, Father?
BRACKENREID: Yes, of course.
And you are going to fully recover.
- Oh! - Margaret, come here.
- I am just being realistic. - So am I.
That lovely girl
might not want to wait for John to walk again...
and be exonerated for murder.
Oh! His life will be over before it's begun.
- [ Sighs ] - My legs.
The numbness is getting worse.
[ Indistinct conversations ]
OFFICER: That way, sir.
I've transcribed the entries
from the logbook for the day in question.
May I see them?
Thank you very much, Miss Newsome.
And that's not all.
I've managed to find files on Arthur Carmichael.
He was arrested for a variety of crimes,
but the Crown never brought them to trial.
What sort of crimes?
Vandalism, public intoxication,
assault and battery.
Thank you. I have to show these to the detective.
- Sir. - I've gotten two sets
of fingermarks from this.
One presumably is Inspector McWorthy's.
And the other could be Arthur Carmichael.
Right.
You'll want to have a look at these.
Only one person signed in to the evidence room
shortly after John's gun was checked in...
A Constable Bauder.
- McWorthy could have sent him. - Sir.
Look at these.
Files on Arthur Carmichael.
It seems every case built against him
was eventually dropped.
And, sir, they all went through the same Crown prosecutor.
MURDOCH: Allen Templeton.
Where did you get these?
Sir, these files show an escalation of violence
in Arthur Carmichael's actions.
And what's more, he kept getting away with it.
Not only are you accusing my office of malfeasance...
You had files purloined.
Leave it alone, Detective.
I can't just walk away from this, and you know that.
TEMPLETON: There are interests at play here
bigger than either of us, Detective.
I'll tell you this only once...
Stop this investigation.
Or what?
Or not only will you lose any chance
at promotion to inspector...
You'll lose your current position.
As will anyone else who is helping you.
Hey. You.
Get out of here.
Come on. Get out of here.
Hey! I said, "Get out of here"!
Go!
- MURDOCH: Constable Bauder. - Come on.
Detective Murdoch.
What do you want?
MURDOCH: You signed in to the evidence locker
at Station House Number One on the night
that Sutton and Constable Brackenreid were shot.
So?
CRABTREE: So, that night, a gun was stolen
and used to shoot a bullet into a mattress.
BAUDER: How does this concern me?
MURDOCH: That bullet is being used to frame an innocent man.
[ Scoffs I I had nothing to do with that.
You're the only one who accessed the evidence locker that night.
- [ Scoffs ] - MURDOCH: Did you deliberately
take that gun to falsely plant evidence?
Talk to us, Bauder, or, so help me God,
we will pitch your body off this bridge.
Tell us the truth.
- Or we will have your badge. - All right.
All right, it was me.
Who put you up to it? Inspector McWorthy?
No. No, it wasn't McWorthy.
- Well, then who? - BAUDER: I don't know.
He found me while I was on my rounds that night.
An older gentleman, well-dressed.
He gave me precise instructions...
Get the gun, shoot the mattress.
He paid me $50.
How could I turn that down? I have a family.
A constable's salary isn't enough to feed four children.
So all you did was shoot the bullet into the mattress?
McWorthy was to take care of the rest.
No, that's just it.
The last thing the man said was,
McWorthy can't know a thing about this.
Carry on, Constable.
This could mean someone else was protecting Arthur Carmichael.
Allen Templeton hinted at someone more powerful than him.
I'd be willing to wager that that someone
is Arthur Carmichael's father.
The chief Crown attorney.
[ Sighs] What a mess.
[ Groans ]
- CRABTREE: Higgins. - Uh, George.
- Henry. Are you all right? - I don't... know, sir.
I-I was alone, and some men...
I barely saw them, sir.
Two of them rushed me, and two ran into your... office.
- Are you all right? - Oh, yes. Go on, go on.
No.
- It's gone. - What were they after?
The paperweight that killed McWorthy!
[ Grunts]
I'm sorry, Detective. I am confused as to your intention.
Are you here to accuse me of something?
You covered up your son's petty crimes.
Yeah, so you claim.
You wanted to protect your son.
I understand that.
But we're now looking at murder.
Three murders...
and a police constable who may never fully recover
from being shot.
None of this has anything to do with me.
There is a conspiracy to protect your son.
We believe Inspector McWorthy was involved.
- And others. - Others?
Someone with enough power and influence
to force Inspector McWorthy's hand.
And, when Mr. McWorthy got in the way, to have him killed.
And all of these people are meant to be protecting Arthur?
[ Chuckles ] I hardly think him capable of murder.
MURDOCH: I do.
And if so, he will go to prison,
as will everyone else who's been protecting him.
Well, this is all very interesting, Detective.
I hope you find the people you're looking for.
Inspector McWorthy's killer left the murder weapon
at the scene of the crime.
Some hired men ransacked my station house and stole it.
That sounds like an impediment.
Well, not particularly in this case.
You see, I was able to document fingermarks from it.
You wanted to protect your son.
But when I catch whoever killed Inspector McWorthy...
...he will be faced with a choice...
...turn in all those who helped him or hang.
How far do you think he'll be willing to go to protect you?
[ Sighs ]
No. Nothing.
DR. OGDEN: [ Sighs] Are you sure?
I could feel it yesterday, but...
It's getting worse, isn't it?
DR. OGDEN: [ Sighs]
Dr. Ogden, what's happening?
I don't know.
Yet.
Excuse me.
[ Crying]
- DR. DIXON: Has he gotten worse? - Who?
DR. DIXON: You only have one patient, Doctor.
He's losing sensation above the waist.
It moves higher every day.
Fantastic.
- What? - Think.
Acute damage to the spinal cord would be static.
If the paralysis is progressing,
the damage may not be permanent.
Pressure?
- What could be causing that? - I've read about this.
Blood trapped in the spinal column
is forced upwards as the pressure increases.
And that could cause a paralysis.
DR. DIXON: Yes, but drainage could make it reversible.
He'll need another surgery?
Yes, right away.
I-I can't do it.
Why not?
Even the thought of performing another surgery...
I-I simply can't.
I'll do it.
[ Breathes deeply ]
Will he walk again?
We can't know that for certain.
We're only guessing that this is the cause of his paralysis.
But if you're right, it would save my legs.
If we're right, and if the surgery is successful, yes.
He already can't walk as it is.
What's the risk?
Well, the surgery is highly invasive.
Complications could arise, and...
DR. DIXON: The risk is that the patient could die.
But I will perform the surgery, and Dr. Ogden will assist.
So, this is what we should do?
Tom, I-I can't say...
Do you believe that this is the best thing?
Yes.
Then do it.
SULLIVAN: Patient is stable.
We're clear to the spine. Just need to drain it.
Syringe.
To Dr. Ogden, please.
Doctor, this is your surgery.
What are you doing?
- Finish the procedure. - You'll finish it.
I-I won't.
Yes, you will.
I'm pulling the stylus.
Insert the syringe.
The patient needs you.
SULLIVAN: Dr. Dixon.
This is not a joke.
This procedure must be finished quickly and cleanly,
- or the patient may... - Or the patient may die.
There's no one else to bring in here,
and I'm not going to do it, so it's up to you.
It's up to you.
Save his life.
SULLIVAN: Dr. Ogden?
[ Footsteps approaching ]
Bastard!
How could you do that?
What was that all about?
The surgery was a success.
If this ink gets on my furniture...
This won't take long, Mr. Carmichael.
ARTHUR: Next time, please call ahead.
Then I'll know to be out.
CRABTREE: Sir.
MURDOCH: Are you quite sure?
If you don't mind.
My driver has the Apollo idling.
- You have an Apollo? - ARTHUR: Indeed, I do.
Picked it a few weeks ago.
It's a beautiful automobile.
They only sell them in Chicago.
MURDOCH: Were you in Chicago a few weeks ago?
Yes, I suppose I was.
Mr. Carmichael, we have spent a great deal of time
tracking your movements over the past few weeks,
and no one mentioned Chicago.
- Yourself included. - So what?
So, when exactly did you go off on this little sojourn?
Because, from everything we've heard,
you've been seen out carousing in Toronto
nearly every evening last month.
Except for the four days
surrounding Miss Palmer's murder.
Fine. You caught me.
I went to Chicago a few days before Lucille was killed.
And you decided not to mention that?
Slipped my mind.
An alibi for murder slipped your mind?
Are you gonna charge me with a crime, or am I free to go?
Mr. Carmichael, why would you ever keep that from us?
I mean, are you protecting somebody?
Good day, gentlemen.
MURDOCH: The hotel.
That wasn't you.
We believed your last-known whereabouts
prior to the four days unaccounted for
was at the hotel with Miss Palmer,
beginning two days before she was killed.
But you weren't there.
CRABTREE: You were in Chicago.
Which means the Mr. Carmichael who was with Miss Palmer
must have been...
Your father.
Mr. Carmichael.
- I'm afraid we're here to... - I know why you're here.
You'll find everything explained in my confession.
It's quite simple, really.
I killed them all.
Sir, you can give us the details down at the station house.
Please come with us.
- May God have mercy on my soul. - [ Gun cocks ]
- No! - [ Gunshot ]
In his confession,
Carmichael took responsibility for everything.
He was the one having the affair with Lucille Palmer.
Arthur tried to absorb suspicion
by leaving out the fact that he had an alibi.
- And John? - CRABTREE: Well, Grant Sutton
already knew about the affair.
Once John started investigating,
Carmichael tried to kill them both.
But John survived,
so he tried to pin the murder on him instead.
What about McWorthy?
He had found out what was going on
and wasn't going to keep quiet about it.
Carmichael did it all on his own?
MURDOCH: So it would seem.
If the son had any involvement,
the father covered for him one last time.
It's only a shame we didn't get the chance
to hang him ourselves.
MURDOCH: Sir, all of the charges against John
have been dropped, of course.
I'm sorry it ever had to happen,
but we did have to follow the evidence.
I'm glad you did.
He turned his back on his own patient.
What if I'd been unable to continue?
What if I'd made a mistake?
He believed you would succeed.
[ Sighs ] It was cruel. Reckless.
Unforgivable.
And what was the outcome?
Well, it was a success.
John will likely regain his mobility.
Julia, you were prepared to throw away your career.
What was the outcome for you?
[ Door closes ]
CRABTREE: Can you explain this to me, Miss Newsome?!
It's from Deakins of Canada.
Yes.
They want to see more of my book.
Why is this a bad thing?
Well, I'm wondering how they got a hold of it in the first place.
I sent it to them, obviously.
CRABTREE: Yes, I deduced that, Miss Newsome.
That's why I'm here waving my arms about in anger.
Well, that's a stupid reason to be angry.
You took it out of my waste basket
and sent it to them without my permission.
You're right... It was wrong of me to take it.
But something good has come of it.
Just like when you asked me to steal
subpoenaed evidence from the Crown attorney.
That is not the same...
That is similar, but it is...
Then rip it up.
Rip it up right now. Go ahead.
It's obvious you're too afraid to write the rest of your book.
Because if you do and it's not any good,
it'll prove you're not a real writer.
I'm already a real writer.
No, you're not.
You've written three chapters,
plus some drivel about Venusians.
Oh, and that one about the mummies.
You've read that?
Of course not. It's nonsense.
Now what are you going to do?
Give up?
Or write the rest of your book
the way it's meant to be written.
It seems this is the place to find Llewellyn Watts.
I like it here.
The light is pleasing.
I looked for you at the running club.
Oh, I've given that up.
And replaced it with drink.
Can you think of anything better?
[ Breathes deeply, clears throat ]
Detective Watts, we may not know the outcome of our actions.
But I do know this...
There are no outcomes without action.
Mm. I see.
Would you care to join me for another?
I have things to do.
As I hope you do, as well.
- Does this look familiar? - It does.
You were right. It was found in the alley
- just off of Church Street. - Thank you.
Yes. Now be mindful of your surroundings.
The constable will see you home.
Making yourself comfortable?
Listen to this.
"I purchased a gun at a pawnshop
on the corner of Parliament and Queen Streets,
then went about to find Grant Sutton."
That's part of Mr. Carmichael's confession letter.
- What of it? - What happened to his other gun?
His other gun?
Only a few weeks earlier, he shot Lucille Palmer.
Then bought a new gun to shoot Sutton?
What happened to the first gun?
I expect he disposed of it.
It was a murder weapon, after all.
He never mentions it.
He provides multiple corroborating details
about the gun that killed Sutton
and the paperweight that killed McWorthy.
But there are no details supporting his claim
he murdered Lucille Palmer.
Something's not right.
Not only was there no mention of the gun...
We never found a trace of the bullet.
Perhaps Carmichael collected it
and disposed of it, along with the murder weapon.
But from whence?
You're right.
The bullet that killed Lucille Palmer
passed cleanly through her.
It had to have struck something in this room.
And yet there is no evidence of a bullet hole to be found.
Perhaps the reason there's no sign of bullet in this room
is because the bullet didn't end its trip in this room.
It's the same.
The striations are both a match for John's gun.
Impossible.
John Brackenreid didn't kill her.
I don't believe he did either.
The question is, who had John's gun, and when?
Father was always a fool.
It wasn't right of Lucille to blackmail him,
but, surely, he didn't have to kill her.
And what was he doing with her in the first place?
They would have never met if it hadn't been for me.
It's all my fault.
It's not your fault, Isabel.
- You didn't know. - I should have.
When he came home that night, he wouldn't even look at me.
Never in a million years
would I have thought that he'd just shot two people.
The night Sutton and I were shot?
Yes.
But you said you were on a train to Hamilton.
Even I didn't know he had that gun.
Well, someone must have.
- Otherwise, John really did... - Wait.
Isabel knew.
She's in there with him now.
Why did you lie about where you were?
Why are you questioning me?
- Grant Sutton shot you. - JOHN: No, he didn't.
Where were you, Isabel?
What are you doing?
John, please...
just let me explain.
You took my gun, didn't you?
Your father didn't kill Lucille.
ISABEL: My father was too weak.
She would have ruined our family.
- [ Gunshot ] - Aah!
Your father wasn't the one who shot me.
I had to do it. Do you understand?
- You tried to kill me. - I didn't have a choice.
You're a murderer.
I knew about you and Lucille.
And I wanted to believe that you loved me.
But now I know you really didn't.
[ Choking ]
[ Sobs ]
We could have been happy together, John.
And now look what you're making me do.
[ Door rattling ]
- Stop fighting it! - [ Pounding on door ]
MURDOCH: Police! Open the door!
[ Ax thudding ]
Get off him!
Are you all right, son?
Yeah, I think so.
It wasn't me. I-I didn't.
Enough. It's over, Miss Carmichael.
You need to work on your choice of women, John.
I have terrible taste in women.
You think you were right.
Maybe you were.
But if you ever try anything like that again,
I will have you fired.
I don't think I'll have to, Doctor.
[ Sighs] I said "anything like that."
I'll have my eye on you, Dr. Dixon.
I'll have my eye on you, too, Julia.
I can feel them.
I don't think I can stand yet, but I can feel them.
You'll be back pounding the beat in no time.
- I don't think so. - What?
I'm handing in my badge, Father.
I need something else.
[ Gasps ] University?
No. [ Chuckles ]
I want to be an actor.
At least it's not dangerous.
Look, Father, I'm sorry I let you down.
I wanted to follow in your footsteps...
but I can't.
You know I always fancied the roar of the crowd,
- the smell of the greasepaint. - I know.
Good on you, John.
You'll get to do what I never did.
But when you're making your mark on the stage,
you just remember one thing...
Once upon a time, you used to be a copper.
And a bloody good one, at that.
Miss Newsome.
You're not working here any longer?
Mr. Templeton figured out where you got those files.
I've been fired.
- I'm sorry. I... - Save your breath.
I knew the risk when I decided to help.
You asked, but I chose to do it.
Just like you chose to finish your manuscript
for that publisher.
And what makes you think I decided to do that?
The fact that you're not an idiot.
Not an idiot?
You know, I think that's the nicest thing
you've ever said to me.
I won't make a habit of it.
What are you going to do now that you're out of work?
I've had offer already.
A defense firm in London wants me to sail immediately.
- You're leaving Toronto? - No.
I've refused.
Instead, I've convinced them to open a branch in Canada.
Or, rather, I will convince them.
There's a lot of crime here.
As soon as they see the statistics,
they'll see that I'm right.
And if they don't?
I don't understand the question.
[ Chuckles ]
Well, if you're staying around,
then perhaps you and I could have dinner or something.
Are you courting me?
- I suppose... - Good.
Then let's start with lunch.
You are a remarkable woman, Miss Newsome.
Remarkable how?
Remarkably tall, for one thing.
It's not me that's big, George.
It's the world that's small.
- You're back. - WATTS: I am.
And I intend to train until I can beat you.
Uh, Llewellyn Watts. I never got your name.
Thomas Longboat.
Good to meet you.
Now let's go.
MURDOCH: [ Sighs ] Could I have done this any differently?
You pursued the truth at great expense to yourself.
I hardly think that's a choice for William Murdoch.
Aren't you even a little disappointed
that you aren't married
to Toronto's newest police inspector?
A little.
- Oh. - [ Chuckles ]
I'm happier that I'm married to you.
- Detective. - Miss Hart.
Are you happy with your choice?
What choice?
To be city coroner.
Of course.
This is all I've wanted for the last two years.
Well, there's just something about all this
that never added up.
Inspector McWorthy was killed
because he had turned on the Carmichaels.
I suppose he made the wrong choice.
That's just it.
He made his decision prior to the bullet fragment
being planted in Lucille Palmer's body.
He was left out of the cover-up.
He had the key to the cold storage room.
Who else could have done it?
I can think of only one person.
Well, they should be arrested.
If you can prove it.
I can't.
And perhaps never will.
A shame.
A shame, indeed.
Good day, Miss Hart.