Keep the change, kid.
Good morning, Inspector.
It is, indeed, Higgins.
Our special camera has made the front pages again.
"Station House Number 4
"is the pride of Toronto this morning.
"Detective William Murdoch,
"the inventive and" blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,
"has deployed a device he calls 'the scrutiny camera'
"to catch a jewel thief in the act."
Sir.
"'The remarkable camera can take photographs at night
"'without a flash,'
"said Station House Number 4's
"Inspector Thomas Brackenred."
Brackenred?
Get me that reporter, Paddy Glenn, on the phone.
I want my name spelled correctly by the afternoon edition.
I will do, sir, but right at this moment...
Someone broke in last night, sir.
They ransacked the place.
I can see that.
Was anything taken?
Not as far as we can tell.
The armory?
All the guns and ammunition have been accounted for.
Murdoch?
Sir, he's not in yet.
It's nearly half past 8:00. Where is he?
Oh, my.
Good of you to join us, Murdoch.
Please forgive my tardiness, sir.
I had to collect a telegram.
As you can see, we've had an incident
that might interest you.
Clearly, this was the point of entry.
Still damp.
Our intruder must have been caught
in the downpour.
We had heavy rains around 2:35 a.m.
I happened to be awake.
So he breaks into a station house,
rats around causing mayhem, and doesn't take anything.
- Nothing was taken? - It doesn't seem, sir.
Well, then, sir, perhaps it was simply
hooligans on a lark, nothing more than that.
Nothing more than that?
No request for finger marks or tracing of footprints
and so on and so forth, et cetera?
Well, yes, of course, sir,
but George can take care of that.
And might we get you your breakfast?
Maybe a scone?
Inspector, please forgive me,
but I need to take the next few days off
to tend to a private matter.
You?
- Booking off? - Are you ill, sir?
No, George, I'm fine, but I am needed elsewhere.
In fact, I should head to the train straightaway.
- Well, be back by Monday. - Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
Sir, you know he mentioned a train?
He has a sister in a convent in Montreal.
Perhaps he's going to visit her.
- His sister's a nun? - Yes, sir.
I do hope she's all right.
Just get this mess cleaned up, Crabtree.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
Right this way, sir.
Julia, what on Earth?
Your telegram alluded to something urgent,
but what has you so cautious?
No one can know I've asked you here,
especially if my fears are borne out.
What fears? Are you in danger?
William, I believe there's a killer
on the loose in this hospital.
Two days ago, one of our cancer patients died,
a 12-year-old named Ben Digiarno.
The hospital listed cause of death
as complications of leukemia.
But you suspect otherwise?
His condition was steadily improving,
then one morning he was dead.
It made no sense.
Was there a post-mortem?
No, and I couldn't very well demand one
without revealing my suspicions.
The frustrating thing is,
Ben's body is still in the hospital morgue,
and I've no basis on which to examine it.
And no one else voiced surprise over Ben's death?
No, and that was unusual.
What's more, when I expressed my concerns to Dr. Falwell,
he insisted the cause of death was leukemia,
and that was the end of it.
- Quite out of character. - Dr. Falwell?
He's the head of medicine and the man who hired me.
Aha.
You see, the hospital's in the midst
of a massive fundraising campaign
run by the wife of Dr. Lawrence Abbot.
He's the hospital founder and administrator.
And any whiff of impropriety during a fundraising drive...
Much less murder.
So why not simply go to the Buffalo police?
The Abbots have influence,
and I only have suspicions and no hard evidence.
Perhaps it was simply leukemia that killed Ben.
I don't think it was.
I guess I'm just asking you to trust me.
And I do, Julia. After all, I am here.
But there is also the issue of my jurisdiction.
Yes, that's why I'll introduce you
as a wealthy patron from Toronto
interested in donating money to the hospital.
Wealthy? But I...
You look fine.
William, I need your help.
Then how can I say no?
I'm to join a patron's tour in 15 minutes.
Dr. Falwell and the Abbots will be there, and so will you.
Very good.
Julia, I meant to say how good it is to see you.
Oh, and I you.
I mean, yes, William, it's so wonderful to see you.
- You've been well? - Yes.
Myself as well.
And Buffalo is even...
You're enjoying Buffalo?
Oh. Am I enjoying it?
Yes, even better than expected. Yes.
Working with the living instead of...
Well, yes, instead of...
Well, I'm truly delighted for you.
- Yes. - Yes.
Inspector.
The bugger polished off my best whisky.
A man saves up for that.
He makes certain sacrifices.
My sympathies indeed, sir.
That reporter, Paddy Glenn, is here.
He wanted to interview Detective Murdoch
about the scrutiny camera.
Marvelous, with our house in pieces.
- Send him in. - Will do.
Actually, sir, here he is now.
Ah, thank you, Constable Crabtree.
Inspector, I see there was some mischief last night?
It's Brackenreid, Glenn, not Brackenred.
Oh, that's the typesetters, Inspector, dunces all.
Now, where's Detective Murdoch?
On a case. Can't be reached.
Oh, dash it.
Now I have nothing for the morning edition.
Except perhaps this break-in.
You'll not be writing about that, son.
Why not?
Your station house is a crime scene?
That's ironic. The public will love it.
Crime and underwear reporters like you
depend upon the likes of me for inside information.
You wouldn't want that to dry up, now, would you?
May I remind you of the power of the press, Inspector?
How's this for a headline?
"Bungling Brackenreid Baffled by Break-in."
You're living dangerously, Glenn.
Here's what I'll do for you.
I'll hold off on Bungling Brackenreid for now.
Solve this break-in,
and I'll make you out the hero instead.
"Intrepid Inspector Ensnares Irritating Intruder."
And what do you get?
The exclusive scoop on any big cases
that come into the station.
Deal.
Excellent.
And if you get broken into again,
please give me a suspect.
It's been a pleasure, Inspector.
Crabtree.
Sir.
I've got a little project for you.
If you'll keep following me, ladies and gentlemen,
we'll get back to the ward a little later
so you can meet more of our little angels.
Why, Dr. Ogden.
There you are at last.
Head of pediatric surgery, everyone, Dr. Julia Ogden.
May I introduce Mr. Willard Prenfrew,
an Ogden family friend from Toronto?
Mr. Prenfrew is a generous contributor to medical sciences.
Willard, this is our head of medicine, Dr. Martin Falwell,
our chief administrator, Dr. Lawrence Abbot,
and his wife, Laetecia, the head of our hospital foundation.
So glad you could make it, Mr. Prenfrew.
It's a pleasure to meet you all.
A warm welcome to you on behalf
of the Children's Hospital of Buffalo.
Well, shall we continue?
Ah.
Everyone, this is Dr. Darcy Garland,
one of our dedicated and caring physicians
who's treating little...
Victoria.
Oh.
And what a beautiful little lady she is.
Aren't you, dear?
Dr. Garland, what is Victoria's particular affliction?
She has an idiopathic inflammation of the pericardium.
An ailment of the heart.
Mm. And how are you treating her?
She's been cut to 6 ounces
between the left scapula and the spine.
A grain of calomel and Dover's powder
are administered every four hours.
Mm, wonderful, so she's getting better.
She's... under observation.
Splendid, Dr. Garland.
Come, Victoria.
Why don't we get something to eat?
Well, you are in for a treat.
I know you're very excited to see the invalid ward.
Willard Prenfrew?
I don't know, William. I needed a name.
- Now, I must rejoin the tour. - Yes.
Where was Ben's area, then?
The ward is just through those doors.
Ben had the second bed on the right.
And if anyone asks after me?
I'll make something up.
What are you doing?
And you are?
That was Ben's bed.
You shouldn't be poking around it.
Did you know Ben?
For a little while.
That's as long as you know anybody here.
I didn't like him.
Why is that?
Some people you just don't like on sight.
There you are.
I hope my absence didn't raise any eyebrows.
I think it's fine.
What's this?
It's Ben's notepad.
It's curious.
There's a skip in the pages here,
which denotes a missing page.
- Hmm. - Oh.
Looks like an "M" and here a "Y."
Possibly.
Do you have a pencil sharpener?
Of course.
I hope you don't mind.
Looks like "zoo".
There, a "G," "D," "N."
"Ogden".
I hope not.
Golden?
"My golden zoo."
It's gibberish.
I do love a puzzle.
Alas, I fear this puzzle may be of no consequence.
I had somewhat of a run-in with one of Ben's ward mates.
Oh, that must be Ezra.
The ward bully.
He seemed a sullen lad.
His hostility toward Ben gave me pause.
Not all of the children here come to accept their condition.
Like Ezra, they're angry, and it never leaves them.
You mentioned Ben's condition was improving.
Is it possible Ezra resented him for this?
Enough to kill him?
Julia, I fear that without a post-mortem
to establish the reason for Ben's death--
Dr. Falwell would never allow it,
nor would Dr. Abbot,
especially if one of them is involved.
Perhaps in this case, it would be better
to ask for forgiveness later than permission now.
I'm telling you, I've ever seen
Detective Murdoch so out of sorts.
It's understandable with his sister taking ill.
Well, it's not just that.
It's been going on for months now.
He's impatient, short-tempered,
butting heads with Dr. Francis.
I think he's suffering some sort of general malaise.
Malaise?
Yes, it's Italian for "gloomy", I believe.
I think he's lovesick for Dr. Ogden, George.
It's plain and simple.
Think we're all done here, George.
All right, let's test it.
What is it?
I don't know.
I don't like being watched, I suppose.
That's the whole idea, George.
I mean, one day, the entire city
could be under the scrutiny of cameras like this,
watching our every move and keeping us safe.
Crime will be a thing of the past.
Well, I wouldn't want to be a copper in the future, then.
You'd have nothing to do except drink tea
and exude intestinal vapors.
There's evidence of Mees' lines on his fingernails,
signs of corneal necrosis,
neither of which are symptoms of leukemia.
Interesting.
The liver is enlarged.
The spleen as well.
Leukemia could account for that,
but I'll need blood samples for testing,
and I'll need to open him up, William.
Stop what you're doing this instant.
Dr. Falwell.
I demand an explanation, Dr. Ogden.
As I told you, I believe Ben Digiarno died
under suspicious circumstances.
And what is Mr. Prenfrew doing here?
I'm Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary.
Toronto?
You have no jurisdiction here,
and there has been no crime.
The cancer killed Ben, Doctor.
What you are doing here is completely unwarranted
and beyond insubordination.
I realize that--
No, I don't think you do.
This seriously jeopardizes your position at this hospital.
Dr. Falwell, I have worked with Dr. Ogden
extensively in Toronto
and learned to take her speculation
as seriously as any fact.
I urge you to appreciate the consequences
should I discover Ben Digiarno's death
was in fact murder.
The consequences? To me?
Interfering in a murder investigation
is obstruction of justice in any country.
This is not obstruction of justice.
There was no foul play here.
I want both of you out of here now,
and, Dr. Ogden, I will deal with you in the morning.
Unless I miss my guess, lads, we had a visitor last night.
All right.
- Well done, sir. - Hey.
Although there is a conspicuous lack
of ransacking.
He was here, Crabtree.
I don't care how he got in.
Now, let's get that photograph developed
and see what we've got.
Do you know what I'm looking at, William?
Not offhand, no.
My career in Buffalo coming to a screeching halt
if these samples are normal.
Interesting.
High levels of heroin and arsenic.
The heroin's expected. It's a painkiller.
But the arsenic shouldn't be there.
Young Ben was poisoned, then.
Arsenic poisoning would account
for the Mees' lines and the corneal necrosis.
Murder.
I wonder how Dr. Falwell will react to that.
Ah, good.
I'll see you in my office
immediately, Dr. Ogden.
I secured blood samples
from Ben Digiarno's body.
You what? I thought I told you--
There were high levels of arsenic in his system.
The boy was poisoned, sir.
Yes, he was.
By me.
I administered arsenic trioxide to Ben.
It's a radical new technique
using chemical therapy to fight cancerous cells.
I didn't realize that chemical therapy used arsenic.
That's because it's new.
Dr. Park at the University of Buffalo
found that arsenic lowers the white blood cell count.
I reasoned it might battle Ben's leukemia.
At the risk of killing the boy?
With any advanced cancer, "risk" is a relative term.
Ben was at a late stage.
The treatments were showing positive results.
I still don't understand why he went suddenly.
Did you even consider that the arsenic/heroin
interaction could be fatal?
Of course.
That's why I kept the heroin
to such a low dosage.
A low dosage?
We found high concentrations in his blood.
What?
That can't be.
Let me see those samples.
Higgins, spread out.
Gentlemen, we're about to launch a new era
in crime-fighting techniques.
Well, sir, technically, Detective Murdoch
has already launched the...
Right, then.
Oh, my socks.
A mouse?
A bloody mouse?
Hang on, sir. Hang on.
There's somebody there.
That's our man.
Now, what's so interesting
about Murdoch's filing cabinet, sunshine?
May I help you, ma'am?
No.
I'm the mother.
Come to fetch my boy's clothes,
but they've gone and thrown them out, they said.
Perfect good condition.
Mrs. Digiarno, may I offer my condolences?
Save it.
I got eight others.
And they'll be needing something to wear too.
Ben--he was one of the better ones.
Last thing he said to me was,
"Our money troubles will soon be over."
One less mouth to feed.
Ben's stuffed toy, a little bunny rabbit.
Where's that got to?
One of the others could have used it.
I'll keep an eye out for it.
Sure, you will.
Dr. Falwell and I are certain, William.
Ben was overdosed with heroin.
- Oh? - Dr. Falwell is in shock.
I'm sure he had nothing to do with this.
Hmm.
Who could have administered the fatal dose, then?
We checked Ben's charts.
Nurse Rowan would have given Ben most of his shots,
but it seems she hasn't reported to work for a few days.
Oh?
We'll need an address, then.
Miss Rowan?
Hello?
Did you know her well?
Only what one gleans from a working relationship.
Yes.
I haven't really had time to get to know anyone here,
outside of the hospital.
I'm sure that will change.
Yes.
William, I've been--
Turn around slowly
and put your hands up in the air.
Detective Murdoch?
Detective Callahan?
What the hell are you doing in Buffalo, Murdoch?
I came to find Miss Effie Rowan.
She's a nurse at the hospital.
Yes, she was washed ashore at Cayuga Creek this morning.
I came here looking for a suicide note,
and I find you instead.
You and...
Dr. Julia Ogden of the Children's Hospital of Buffalo,
Detective Patrick Callahan of the Buffalo Police.
Hi.
Yes, hi.
The truth is, we were hoping
Miss Rowan could shed some light
on a suspicious death at the hospital.
A suspicious death?
Let's start from the beginning.
Higgins.
- This folder has been misfiled. - So?
So Detective Murdoch keeps absolutely perfect
filing... fidelity.
That's the jewelry store robbery case, George.
Higgins, I believe our intruder was after this folder.
Then why wasn't it taken?
The jewelry store case is over and done with.
The thief's in jail.
So why was our visitor interested in the file
but not enough to pinch it?
Sir, I helped Detective Murdoch with this file.
I'm quite sure nothing was taken.
I do agree with you, though.
It seems odd to break into a police station
just to read the thing.
Sir.
What's wrong with this picture?
So the Digiarno boy dies of a heroin overdose,
and the nurse that might have done it is also dead.
You have my attention.
But you suspect suicide.
Well, I'm not so sure anymore.
Either way, we'll need a post-mortem
on Nurse Rowan right away.
You'll need?
Well, by "we," I mean you and I.
You're not here officially, Murdoch.
A lot of noses can get bent about that,
and I'm not big on desk duty.
But you did help me with the Baby Emerson abduction
in Toronto, so I owe you one,
just so long as I get the collar.
The collar?
Yes, of course.
The coroner has scheduled
the post-mortem on Miss Rowan for 2:00 p.m.
I'll let him know that you'll be there, Doctor.
Then I'd best be on my way.
- Right. - Gentlemen.
Used to be your pathologist, huh?
Oh, yes, indispensable to my work.
Uh-huh.
Well, let's turn this joint over.
Yes.
What am I supposed to be seeing here, Crabtree?
Well, sir, this is the original photograph,
but the background is not as clear
as it is in the newspaper reprint,
which makes no sense, as you know, sir.
Right.
Well, a reprint of a photograph cannot be clearer
than the photograph itself.
Why can't you see this man's face in the original?
Sir, I think this original has been altered.
Bloody hell.
Are you telling me this is not the original original?
Yes, sir, and I fear
the negative has been altered as well.
Our intruder stole the original photograph
and the negative when he broke in the first time
and then replaced them
with the altered versions the second time
when Murdoch's scrutiny camera caught him in the act.
I think so, sir. I just--I can't imagine why.
Well, it's a fair bet that the passerby in the photo
and the intruder are one and the same.
And no one goes to these lengths
unless they're guilty of something.
- It's The Tell-Tale Heart, sir. - The what?
The Edgar Allan Poe story.
A killer buries his victim's heart
beneath the floorboards,
but then he begins to hear it beating,
and it grows louder and louder and louder, and then...
Well, then I stopped reading. I was terrified.
But, sir, I think this is very much like that.
Our intruder has a guilty conscience.
- Yes, exactly. - You might have just said that.
Oh, well, sir, you know I get carried away sometimes.
I do like this guilty conscience bit, though.
I'm going to work that into my murder mystery.
Put that away.
I want a list of all the crimes committed
in the vicinity of the jewelry store robbery
that occurred around the same time,
anything at all.
Sir.
Let's hope that Nurse Rowan's locker
is more enlightening than her apartment.
This doesn't look good.
Oh, that's the Abbots and Dr. Falwell.
Detectives.
Tell me it's not true.
An investigation has been launched
into Nurse Rowan's death and the Digiarno boy's?
It is, as a matter of fact,
and we think the two cases are related.
Are you suggesting one of our staff might be culpable?
We made no such suggestion.
But you just did.
How dare you talk to my husband like that?
My wife is in the midst of a crucial fundraising drive.
We can't have these incidents all over the papers.
Yes, that would be a shame.
Detective Callahan, any injury to this hospital's reputation
will be swiftly answered by my lawyers.
And you, Detective Murdoch,
deceit from the beginning,
and from a Canadian.
I shouldn't have told them.
I'll see if I can calm them down.
Detectives.
Nurse Rowan is dead?
I'm afraid so, Dr. Garland.
Did you know Nurse Rowan well, Dr. Garland?
Me? Well, I often worked with her.
She was a conscientious, caring nurse.
Had her behavior changed at all recently?
She seemed more quiet of late.
Troubled, you might say.
But I didn't pry.
Detective Callahan, what are all these questions?
Just being thorough.
And why is a Canadian policeman
involved in the affair?
I'm here at Dr. Ogden's request.
Oh.
You're an acquaintance of hers.
Well, I have work.
I'll leave you both to it.
Such a terrible business.
What is your read on that Garland fellow?
Hard to tell. He seemed very careful.
A letter from Nurse Rowan to persons unknown.
"My darling, I am enfeebled with no hope of cure.
"Please tell me what to do to bring you back to me,
"to hold you to"--
I'm not saying that.
It's a perfectly acceptable word.
I have my principles.
Very well.
"To hold you to my bosom once more
near our China roses."
William?
Ah, Doctor, have you news from the post-mortem?
Indeed.
Miss Rowan didn't drown.
The coroner found
she died of an injected overdose of heroin.
The needle went through her uniform into her mid-back.
An unlikely place to inject oneself.
Precisely. She was murdered.
Possibly by a man eager to shed himself of her.
With easy access to a supply of heroin,
like the doctors in this joint.
I think we can safely assume whoever killed Nurse Rowan
also killed Ben Digiarno.
Nurse Rowan had her suspicions when the boy died,
and she confronted the killer.
Except that Miss Rowan was killed before Ben died.
- Before? - Two days before.
The post-mortem confirms it.
She mentions China roses.
So?
We found rose thorns embedded in Miss Rowan's skin.
If I'm not mistaken, there are China roses
in the hospital garden.
Sir, I spoke with Detective Slorak at Station 5.
He says on the morning of April 23rd--
St. George's Day.
Uh, congratulations.
Also the day of the last jewelry store robbery.
He investigated the murder of a young girl on Shooter Street.
Three blocks down from the jewelry store.
All these suspects that Slorak spoke to had alibis,
including the prime suspect, a neighbor of the victim,
one John McLeod.
He claims he was in Hamilton at the time.
What's his story?
He was a photographer.
Why are you showing me this, Crabtree?
Sir, have a close look at the young girl's eyes and hands.
Oh, sweet Jesus, she's dead.
It's a living dead photograph, sir.
After a death in the family,
the dearly departed is dressed and posed for a photo.
But, sir, the eyes are added in after the fact
during the printing and developing process.
The same kind of trickery that was used
to alter the original scrutiny camera photo.
If anybody could have altered that negative,
it's this chap, John McLeod.
Good work, Crabtree. Bring the ghoul in.
Sir, will do.
So it's likely Nurse Rowan and her paramour
had their trysts here under the cover of darkness.
If so, someone may have seen them.
China roses, no question.
Well, Murdoch?
Look here, Detective.
Some tracks.
A wheelchair, perhaps.
Yes.
Here.
A piece of cotton.
Nurse Rowan's uniform was torn in places.
The coroner and I assumed it had snagged
on some rocks under the water.
I'll take this to the coroner,
see if it matches the uniform.
If it does,
this may be where Nurse Rowan was killed.
Ezra?
Were you watching us from the window?
I was having trouble breathing.
It helps to stand.
Would you like Dr. Ogden to give you something?
No.
I'm feeling better.
Ben Digiarno's stuffed rabbit.
This must be what his mother was looking for.
Ezra.
Why do you have Ben's toy?
It was no good to him after he was dead.
Was the toy torn like this when you found it, Ezra?
Yes.
- All ready, sir? - Almost.
Sir, I've been thinking,
McLeod may have paid off his alibi witness
to say that he was in Hamilton
when he was actually here in Toronto.
Of course he paid him.
Wouldn't you to avoid the hangman?
McLeod is the passerby in the jewelry store picture
fleeing the scene of the murder.
He's also the man in Murdoch's office
on the scrutiny camera photo.
It's not for dead certain,
but we both know it's true.
Right.
Let me take a crack at him.
Sir, I was wondering, might I?
You?
All respect, Crabtree, but--
Well, sir, I have an idea.
I think I can get McLeod to confess to killing that girl.
- Is that a fact? - Yes, sir.
There's just a few things I need to prepare
before I speak with him.
I'll be in my office.
Thank you, sir.
Who would've thought you were just as proficient
at the photography as Detective Murdoch, George.
Maybe even more so.
Firstly, Higgins, it's not the photography;
it's just photography.
Secondly...
You're not wrong.
Right, we know that Nurse Rowan was murdered first,
injected with a lethal dose of heroin,
likely in the hospital garden.
Correct.
And there's a significant probability
that the killer is the lover that jilted her.
Most likely a doctor on staff.
And having murdered Nurse Rowan,
the killer needed a means to remove her body from the garden
without raising suspicions should they be seen.
- Hence the wheelchair. - Yes.
But what if he was seen?
There's a direct line of sight
from the ward to the garden below.
I believe Ben saw the murder,
and the killer saw him and knew on the spot
that he would have to silence the boy.
Except that he waited two days before killing Ben.
In that time, Ben could have told anyone what he'd witnessed.
Excellent observation, Julia.
Why wait, indeed?
It's possible we're wrong.
It's possible I'm wrong, and Nurse Rowan's killer
didn't see Ben in the window after all.
But then how did the killer know
that Ben had seen him murder Nurse Rowan?
Last thing he said to me was,
"Our money troubles will soon be over."
Ben told his mother
that their money troubles would soon be over.
She assumed that it meant one less mouth to feed,
but there's more than one way to solve money troubles.
Blackmail?
But, William, Ben was 12 years old.
A starving family is ample motivation
for a resourceful young boy.
And blackmail is ample motive for Ben's killer.
Well, as Inspector Brackenreid would say,
that's all well and good, Murdoch,
but where's the evidence?
Ben's notebook.
It's possible that what you thought was the word "zoo"
was in fact 200, as in dollars.
The amount he was demanding.
And "M" and "Y" are the first and last letters of...
"money."
And "G," "D," "N"
are not "Ogden," but--
"Garden."
But Ben was not well enough to go outside.
That's true, but it all points to blackmail nonetheless.
So if Ben collected the money before he was killed--
Where did he keep it?
Ezra?
Wake up.
Go away.
You're not in any trouble.
Now, sit up.
Ezra, did Ben stuff anything into this toy?
No.
Ezra, we know you're lying.
Where is the money that was in here?
I don't know what you mean.
There appears to be $200 here, Ezra.
All right.
I saw Ben stuff the money in the toy.
When? Who gave it to him?
I don't know.
But the day before he died,
he went down to the end of the hallway.
I had to go for some treatment, and when I came back,
I saw Ben stuff the money in the toy.
That's all I know.
I swear.
There's soil on it.
Look, I didn't steal from him.
I wouldn't.
But he was dead.
I thought,
when I'm cured, I'll need money.
Julia.
This is a gardenia plant.
Yes?
The note--it wasn't referring to the garden
where Nurse Rowan was killed,
but the gardenia plant
where the blackmail money was to be left.
Only the killer knows this, and now us.
This gives us the opportunity to convince the killer
that his blackmailer is still alive.
Perhaps a cryptic note left on the ward notice board.
- I don't follow. - A note.
One which only the killer would understand,
one that convinces him that he murdered the wrong boy,
one that demands another payment.
To be left in the usual place.
It might be enough to force our killer's hand.
So, McLeod, how long do you think it will be
before we get the truth out of your friend in Hamilton?
The one who lied for you about your whereabouts April 23rd.
He's not lying.
And I will not confess to a murder
that I couldn't possibly have committed.
Higgins, you can't just come barging in here.
Can't you see that I'm in the middle of an interview, man?
I'm sorry, Constable Crabtree.
I thought you'd like to know that you were right.
Ah.
There was a safety negative
in Inspector Brackenreid's office.
And are you sure it's of the jewelry store robbery?
I made a print of it myself, sir.
It's the original, all right.
Well, well, well, McLeod.
What do you have to say for yourself now?
Just as I thought.
That was odd.
I've never seen Mrs. Abbot go into the ward
other than on her tours.
Step away from Ezra's bed, Mrs. Abbot.
Yes, he'll be needing it to sleep in when he gets back.
Why did you think it was Ezra?
Because he was a malicious child.
But you killed Ben first.
I watched him take the blackmail money,
but when I saw the second note,
I realized that Ben must have been doing Ezra's bidding.
You were right the first time, Mrs. Abbot.
Ben Digiarno was your blackmailer.
You can rest assured you killed the right boy.
But what could Nurse Rowan have possibly done to you?
Why kill her?
Because Nurse Rowan and Dr. Abbot were lovers.
Please.
Don't speak of it.
Your husband was her secret lover,
and when he tried to break it off with her,
she wouldn't go quietly, would she?
That awful whore.
The hospital foundation is my life.
When I found out about them, I demanded
Lawrence stop endangering everything
that I had worked for.
His vulgar secret was bound to get out.
He did as I asked.
But she...
She had to be stopped.
So you lured her to their secret rendezvous spot
with a note supposedly from your husband
asking for a reunion, where you injected her
with enough heroin to kill her instantly.
But you didn't know that Ben had seen it all
until afterwards,
when his blackmail note found its way to you.
You knew what you had to do next.
I had no choice.
Mrs. Abbot.
You killed Nurse Rowan and a young boy
to preserve your standing in the community.
I...
I cannot find the words.
And so I instructed my lads to alter the film negative
so that they could convince McLeod he'd been caught out.
Beat him at his own game, I did.
Very clever, Inspector. You're the hero.
You said your readers love irony, Paddy.
Well, they're gonna love this one.
"Photographer Hoisted on His Own Petard
"Caused by Photographic Sleight of Hand."
And he would have got away with it
if he'd left well enough alone.
And you can quote me on that, Patrick.
Make sure you spell the name right.
Of course, if this sleight of hand
ever catches on with the public,
how will you boys ever trust photographic evidence again?
Still, all kudos to you, Inspector.
Glenn.
Glenn, come back.
I've just recalled a few important details.
Crabtree, get in here.
Yes, sir.
Are you sure you wouldn't consider a posting
with the Buffalo force, Detective?
I can guarantee you that we have more crime here.
I'll take your offer as a compliment, sir.
It was.
If you need anything,
you let me know.
I will.
Thank you, Detective Callahan.
I wouldn't let her go either, if I were you.
My offer stands.
So I guess this is good-bye.
Yes.
I've enjoyed our time together.
As have I.
It's like old times.
It's done my heart good to see you again, William,
but I feel that we haven't had nearly enough time together
to just be ourselves.
I agree.
- Julia, I-- - William.
What are you doing?
Nothing. I...
William.
I can't possibly renew our relationship together.
What's to stop us?
I'm engaged to be married.
Oh, I see.
Why didn't you tell me?
There was never a good time.
There still isn't.
May I ask to whom?
Well, yes.
You've met him.
It's Dr. Darcy Garland.
Where are my manners?
Congratulations to you, Julia,
and to Dr. Garland as well.
Thank you, William.