Ripped By mstoll
[Bell clanging]
Right on time.
A pleasure to see you again.
I'll inform Mr. Worthington of your arrival.
If you'll excuse me.
Mr. Worthington? Your guests are arriving, sir.
[Knock on door]
Mr. Worthington?
[Bird chirping]
[Breathes deeply]
Ah. Please, just give me a moment.
MURDOCH: And you have no idea where he went?
BAIRD: I didn't even know he was gone, sir.
He'd been working in here all morning.
Even while his engagement party was about to begin.
Mr. Worthington doesn't believe in idle hours.
Sir, no one has been able to find the fiancée,
Miss Cassie Chadwick.
Oh. Perhaps they simply eloped?
"Eloped," sir?
Mr. Worthington is the president of the Canadian Bank.
He is not the sort to elope.
No.
Did anyone visit Mr. Worthington?
Telephone him, perhaps?
He did make two telephone calls by himself.
Both were rather heated.
Oh? Do you have any idea who he was speaking with,
- what the arguments were about? - BAIRD: No, sir.
- [Bell clangs] - If you'll excuse me, sir.
More guests for the party.
One Mr. Worthington may have wanted to avoid.
Cold feet?
Mr. Andrew Carnegie, sir.
I apologize, but I must speak to Mr. Worthington at once.
Mr. Carnegie, Mr. Worthington seems to have gone missing.
But he telephoned me just two hours ago,
informing me of his intention to marry my daughter.
MURDOCH: And you oppose the union?
Who am I speaking to?
Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary, sir.
Mr. Worthington was to marry your daughter?
I should hope not.
I only have one daughter, sir...
and she is 4 years old.
I was in Guelph
breaking ground for one of the many libraries I'm financing
when the call came through.
Do you know Mr. Worthington?
Only by reputation. I've never set eyes on the man.
Yet he told you he was marrying your daughter,
Miss Cassie Chadwick?
Never heard of her. And I told Worthington so.
MURDOCH: How did he react?
He hung up the telephone.
Your driver is anxious to depart, Mr. Carnegie.
Giving money away is more work than making it.
Mr. Carnegie, should the need arise,
may we contact you if we have further questions?
Yes. Yes, of course.
Mr. Baird?
Mr. Worthington took something out of his safe before leaving.
Do you know the combination?
A stack of bills and his passport were left behind.
Wherever Mr. Worthington went, he was planning on returning.
Cart tracks. That's unusual.
CRABTREE: 4 feet, 7 inches.
What did the guests have to say?
Well, sir, it was like pulling teeth,
but it's rumored that Miss Chadwick
is Mr. Carnegie's child outside the banns of marriage.
A basket case, sir, if you will, like myself.
Yet Carnegie claims never to have heard of her.
Is it possible he was unaware he'd fathered a child?
Well, he was single most of his life...
and a railway man at that, sir.
Find out what you can about this Cassie Chadwick, George.
Oh, and speak to the butler.
I need a list of all of the deliveries here today...
food, flowers, guests.
We need to find this exact cart.
Sir.
[Door opens]
- Julia. - William.
What a pleasant surprise.
- I was just leaving you a note. - Oh.
I'm going to be out of town for a few days.
Nothing serious, I hope?
No, no. I'm just meeting with a patient.
Ah. I was hoping maybe we could have dinner later this week.
There's something I'd like to talk to you about.
I'm not exactly sure when I'm going to be back.
Well, please let me know.
I'm most anxious to discuss this with you.
Yes. Yes, of course.
[Exhales sharply]
So, neither yourself or anyone else at the bank
has any idea where Mr. Worthington might be?
None whatsoever.
Everyone is e-extremely concerned.
How well do you know his fiancée, Miss Chadwick?
[Stammers]
Loan officers don't often meet directly
with such p-prominent customers.
She's a client at the bank?
I'm... I'm not really at liberty to discuss bank business.
Mr. Fleet, the president of your bank is missing.
There are a few outstanding loans.
Substantial ones?
Have any payments been made?
Not... Uh, n-not as of yet.
But the bank i-is not concerned.
Why not?
Miss Chadwick s-s-supplied
a-a pro... pro... a pro... a-a-a promissory note.
Signed by Mr. Andrew Carnegie.
[Sighs] Where might this note be?
Mr. Worthington keeps all such documents
in his sole p-po-po-po...
possession.
So at his home in a safe, perhaps?
[Sighs]
P-P-P-P-P-Perhaps.
Perhaps.
[Inhales deeply]
Smell that, Murdoch. Does that not make you want to imbibe?
Uh, no, sir.
I haven't in years, and I don't intend to start today.
Your loss.
So, you believe
that this Cassie Chadwick is an out-and-out fraud?
Sir, I believe she started the rumor
that she was Andrew Carnegie's illegitimate daughter
and then forged his signature on a promissory note
claiming that he would honor all of her debts.
Mm. Meanwhile, Carnegie's never heard of the woman or the loans.
And who would have the gall to ask him about it?
- Exactly. - CRABTREE: Sirs!
Anything, George?
All kinds of fascinating stuff.
"Cassie Chadwick" is an alias...
the most recent in a long list of aliases
used by a female confidence trickster.
We've got bank fraud, check kiting, forgery.
Sir, the woman is originally from Ontario.
She's run schemes from New York to Ohio.
Right, then. I can understand her wanting to fleece the man,
but why marriage?
He's bound to find out the truth, eventually.
Well, sir, by then, Mr. Worthington
would be legally responsible for her debts
and highly motivated to keep the scam a secret
to avoid shame, scandal.
Hell of a wedding gift.
It would have been
had Mr. Carnegie not happened into town.
[Chuckles softly] Right, Crabtree.
Take Higgins and scour the city and find this woman.
Sir.
BRACKEN REID: Well...
MURDOCH: Sir.
It's not yet 11:00.
Mm. [Chuckles softly]
- [Bottle clinks] - [Exhales sharply]
[Breathes deeply]
[Train rumbling]
GILLIES: Hello, Julia.
I knew I would be on this train.
And I'm not worried
because there is nothing that has happened
that I haven 't arranged.
And don 't worry. I have no intention of dying tonight.
Why?
Because I'm not done with you yet.
George? Any sign of her?
Sir, apparently Mr. Worthington rented her an apartment,
but she vacated it yesterday.
That can't be right.
The Royal Victoria Place said she checked in three days ago.
No, she was in an apartment.
George, she was in a hotel.
Did either of you get a description of the woman?
Yes, sir. Young, pretty, brunet.
Uh, mature and genteel. Very pleasant, though.
"Pleasant"? I have her described as aloof... snooty, even.
BRACKEN REID: Higgins, are you sure
you were even asking about the right woman?
- A Miss Cassie Chadwick? - HIGGINS: Sirs.
I'm just telling you what I was told.
But she can't be young and old, pleasant and unpleasant,
everywhere and nowhere.
Excuse me?
My name is Mrs. Cassie Chadwick,
and I wish to report an impostor.
And you are...
Chief Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.
Just the man I'm looking for.
- MURDOCH: Cassie Chadwick. - [Sighs]
MURDOCH: Suspected of check kiting, bank fraud,
imprisoned for forgery.
Yes, I'm ashamed to say.
You are this Cassie Chadwick?
Yes. Yes, I am, although that life is... is far behind me now.
Could I offer you a spot of tea?
Ah. Thank you, no.
You ran your first confidence scheme at age 13.
[Exhales sharply] I was young and poor.
Not that that's any excuse,
but l-I thought I might lie and cheat my way into a better life.
Perhaps something a little stronger?
Oh, Inspector, you're so sweet, but I better not.
Yes, I was incarcerated for three years.
But I'm married now to a highly respected and successful doctor,
and I'm living a life I only dreamed of... better, actually.
MURDOCH: And now you believe this woman has chosen your name
in order to blame her crimes on you?
Why else? I... I mean, you can imagine my reaction
when news of her reached Cleveland.
I mean, everything I...
Everything I have is at risk.
That's why I've come.
She must be stopped,
and I desperately need your assistance.
Then you shall have it.
[Breathes deeply]
BRACKEN REID: Would you care to have one of my men escort you?
Oh, thank you, Inspector. I'm more than capable.
Oh, I'm sure you are.
Rest assured, Mrs. Chadwick.
We'll catch your impostor and bring her to justice.
The full force of Station House Number Four is right behind you.
I can't tell you how grateful I am.
And if I can be of any assistance...
Oh, I think we're more than capable.
Yes, I'm quite certain you are.
It's just sometimes it takes a con to catch one.
Then perhaps I'll call on you.
Well, if you do, I shall be ready and willing.
Good day, sir.
Good day.
MURDOCH: What have you, George?
Sir.
I've mapped all the locations that Higgins and I were told
each of the two Cassie Chadwicks frequented.
Hmm. Very good idea, George.
I'll assume the blue marks are for the real Cassie Chadwick?
Yes, sir. And the impostor in red.
MURDOCH: And this would be the apartment
- Ian Worthington rented for her? - CRABTREE: That's correct, sir.
Right then, George. Speak to the cabbies in this square
and see if anyone has spotted
the Cassie Chadwick that you described.
Sir, I've already taken the liberty,
and I have a possible location.
Are you quite sure, George?
Sir, the cabbie remembered her.
Three trunks, brown hair, snooty manner.
MURDOCH: Cassie Chadwick?
Toronto Constabulary.
Detective Murdoch.
Eva Pearce.
We meet again, Detective.
[Chuckles softly]
BRACKEN REID: Eva Pearce.
Shouldn't be surprised that she's at the bottom of this.
MURDOCH: She's already seduced one man into killing the other
and gotten away with it.
She lost the big fish on the line, though, didn't she?
John Craig Eaton was all but down on one knee
when you exposed her the first time.
Marrying Worthington would be right up her alley.
And so would killing the man... if he threatened to expose her.
See what you can get out of her.
I'll inform Mrs. Chadwick.
Sir, let me speak with Miss Pearce first.
No sense complicating things.
Mm.
[Door opens]
- [Door closes] - MURDOCH: No, no.
There will be no cigarette smoking, Miss Pearce.
Or do you prefer "Cassie Chadwick"?
I'd prefer the Constabulary spent their time
locating my missing fiancé,
rather than harassing innocent women.
Oh, come now. You're far from innocent.
Really? How?
MURDOCH: Living under an assumed name.
Only because mine was unjustly besmirched.
Misrepresenting yourself
as Andrew Carnegie's illegitimate daughter.
[Chuckles softly]
I pay no attention to the rumors men spread of me...
...Detective.
[Chuckles softly]
Forging Carnegie's signature on a promissory note
in order to obtain fraudulent loans.
PEARCE: Where is this document?
You should at least let me examine it
before making false claims.
I think you know precisely where the document is
as well as the whereabouts of Ian Worthington.
I wish I did.
We were to marry.
MURDOCH: I think he learned of your lies
and confronted you with the evidence,
you killed him and then attempted to scurry... flee.
Do you want to know the terrible truth, Detective?
Ian telephoned me just before our party
and severed our engagement.
Why did he break off the engagement?
I'd rather not discuss it.
Will that be all, Detective?
So we just stand and watch her waltz out the door?
Without a promissory note or any sign of Mr. Worthington's body,
we have no legal right to hold her.
Did you mention that the real Cassie Chadwick
had surfaced in town?
The less Miss Pearce knows, the better.
She'll not be getting away this time.
Good man, Murdoch.
Sir. I've checked against the butler's ledger.
Of all the deliveries to the estate,
there's not a single carriage, cart, or hackney
that matches these tracks.
This cart is becoming
more elusive than Mr. Worthington himself.
MAN: I was here yesterday, as promised.
So I expect payment in full.
Payment is received when services are rendered.
It's not my fault your employer got cold feet!
BAIRD: What can I do if there was no payment rendered?
George, was the photographer's cart mentioned
on the butler's ledger?
It was not, sir.
Perhaps it was thought he never arrived.
MAN: ...providing a service to you...
BAIRD: There is no fee.
Pay me or face the consequences!
BAIRD: I hope you are not threatening me.
MURDOCH: Pardon me, gentlemen.
[Tape measure clacks]
An exact match.
Toronto Constabulary.
Where exactly did you transport Mr. Worthington yesterday?
What are you talking about?
I know you took Mr. Worthington somewhere.
I arrived yesterday
to take Mr. Worthington's engagement photos
when he suddenly runs out the side of the house
and asks me to take him to Russell Creek Road.
And you didn't say anything until now.
The man's been missing 24 hours.
He gave me a fiver to keep my mouth shut.
Was Mr. Worthington carrying anything on his person?
A brief case. That was it.
Was there anyone there where you dropped him off?
Not that I could see.
Does Russell Creek Road hold any significance to Mr. Worthington?
The family owns land there, sir.
Used for picnicking years ago.
MAN: Nothing here!
Move around to the east side!
Constable Crabtree!
[Man shouting indistinctly]
Constable Crabtree is knee-deep in pond scum, sir.
All right. Henry, I need the camera
to take a photograph of this glass.
Oh, sir, I can help you with that.
Don't... N...
[Sighs] Should I get the camera, sir?
Don't bother.
CRABTREE: Sir!
Sir!
One of the lads thinks he's found something
with his punting pole.
Assist him, George.
CRABTREE: [Grunts]
Right here?
George?
CRABTREE: [Sighs]
[Groans lightly]
I suppose fortune didn't smile upon us.
DR. GRACE: I'm afraid not.
Pond water contains less oxygen
and is excellent at slowing decomposition.
Unfortunately, it is terrible at preserving forensic evidence.
I assumed as much.
She'll not be getting away with it this time.
Thank you, Doctor.
BRACKEN REID: Mrs. Chadwick is abreast of the situation.
MURDOCH: And you're certain that this is a good idea?
I've had none better, Murdoch.
- Ah. - Inspector. Detective.
What can I do for you?
Please.
The Constabulary is asking for your assistance,
but the scheme would remain strictly under our control.
Scheme?
We could very much like to use your..."talents."
I'm at your service, Inspector. What's the plan?
MURDOCH: We manipulate Miss Pearce
into returning to the scene of the crime.
Only the killer would know where the body's hidden.
And how do you want to do that?
Promise her the only thing she loves... money.
I can do that.
- Are you certain? - [Chuckles] Please.
Miss Pearce was forced to kill the golden goose.
I never, in my career, had to resort to that.
So, all we'll need...
is a grieving relation, a lawyer, and a floozy.
[Knock on door]
Everyone's ready, sir.
And you're sure we couldn't find anyone more suitable?
Beggars can't be choosers, sir.
Yes, but beggars can fall on their asses
letting murderesses walk scot-free.
[Knock on door]
Excuse me.
Oh, I do apologize.
And so you should.
HIGGINS: Salutations of the morning to you two ladies.
[Chair wheels squeak]
I'm attorney Jacob Edward James of James, James, Jarvis & James
and, at present, am representing the missing person,
henceforth referred to as one Ian Albert Worthington,
the president of the Canadian Bank,
brother to Miss Lucretia Worthington,
at present sitting to my right,
and the fiancé of Miss Cassandra Chadwick
seated at this moment to my left.
Very pleased to meet you, Miss Worthington,
though I do wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.
Well, I apologize for not sharing in your delight,
but I've never understood
my brother's fascination with dollymops.
You have some nerve.
CHADWICK: What? Yes, I do!
To the matter at hand.
On this day in 1901,
with witnesses present and in the offices of said attorneys,
- James, James, Jarvis & James... - Oh, for the love of Peter!
Uh, sir. Are you sure that's wise?
Under the circumstances, Murdoch,
I think it's imperative.
HIGGINS: Aforementioned mentioned date and henceforth
that said attorneys will invoke a policy of...
[Telephone ringing]
[Chuckles]
Attorney Jacob Edward James.
- Get a grip on yourself, man! - Yes, sir!
And stick to the bloody manuscript!
HIGGINS: Yes, sir!
And stop calling me "sir"!
Yes, sir.
[Clears throat]
HIGGINS: Due to Mr. Worthington's
sudden and unexpected absence,
I have invoked my power of attorney
and will disperse funds accordingly.
However, I thought it appropriate to inform you,
seeing as you are
Mr. Worthington's two existing heirs.
His two heirs?
Surprised?
What? Did the gold digger think she was getting it all?
- [Chuckles softly] - HIGGINS: Ladies, I assure you
there is more then enough to go around.
- [Sniffles] - HIGGINS: $500,000, in fact.
CHADWICK: Oh...
In total?
No, no, no. Uh... each.
CHADWICK: Well...
my brother will almost certainly reappear very much alive.
Yes, but until either he or his earthly remains resurface...
Please sign here.
But what if, God forbid, he nor his body are ever found?
Well, then, Miss Chadwick,
I'm afraid Mr. Worthington will be declared dead in absentia
and the estate divided betwixt you.
I see.
In seven years' time.
Excuse me? You did say "seven"?
BRACKEN REID: Excellent work, Mrs. Chadwick.
Oh, she took that hook, line, and sinker, didn't she?
Dollar signs dancing.
It's not surprising.
But Eva Pearce won't risk incriminating herself just yet.
Not while she's the only suspect in the murder.
- CHADWICK: Right. - Ah, Crabtree.
Where is Miss Pearce now?
Sir, she went back to her apartment.
I thought she'd be straight off to the lake.
She's not quite ready to play that card.
Perhaps it's time for phase two.
Right.
Let's bring on our floozy.
CRABTREE: Sir?
[French accent] Bonjour.
- Allow me to introduce myself. - Huh?
My name is Mademoiselle Desaree Denueve.
Ooh, la la.
- [Chuckles] - DR. GRACE: [Chuckles]
But I would never kill him! I loved him with all my heart!
BRACKEN REID: Who said anything...
Miss Pearce. Miss Pearce. Uh, the detective is busy right now,
but if you just have a seat over here, he'll be with you shortly.
DR. GRACE: You are putting words in my mouth!
I have done nothing!
PEARCE: Constable Crabtree, this woman being interviewed,
does she have something to do with my Ian's disappearance?
Well, I'm not really at liberty to say.
But you could say, if you wanted to.
It would give me such... peace of mind.
Well, seeing as it does pertain to your betrothed,
uh, yes, Miss Denueve has become quite a compelling suspect.
Miss Denueve?
Yes... Apparently
her and Mr. Worthington were quite an item.
- Before you arrived, of course. - Of course.
And you have some evidence
that she may have harmed him in some way?
Yes. Yes, the inspector's quite convinced that she did it.
Mm.
BRACKEN REID: Crabtree?
Take Mademoiselle Denueve's fingermarks.
Sir. Miss Denueve.
Miss Pearce, my office, please.
What, if anything, do you know
of Mr. Worthington's previous romantic liaisons?
I know of only one other.
A foreign woman.
But it appears you know that, as well.
Do you have any knowledge of this woman's whereabouts
the day of Mr. Worthington's disappearance?
None whatsoever.
I must say, Detective, you seem less than pleased
to have discovered a more likely suspect than myself.
I have no preference one way or the other, Miss Pearce.
I simply seek justice.
I don't believe that to be true, William.
May I call you "William"?
I'd prefer not.
You've developed a great desire to lock me away,
regardless of my innocence.
You want nothing more
than to stand by the gallows and watch me swing.
If such a day should come to pass, Miss Pearce,
it won't be me placing the noose around your neck.
That will be firmly in your hands alone.
Am I free to go, William?
MURDOCH: Of course.
Oh, and please keep me up to date on any information
regarding Mademoiselle Denueve's involvement
in my fiancé's case.
DR. GRACE: [Normal voice] So, George,
what do you think of my performance so far?
Well, actually, Emily,
I find you make quite a convincing trollop.
Not quite sure how to take that.
Oh, I simply mean
- I find it rather... - [Door opens]
Miss Denueve,
you are to let us know your whereabouts at all times,
and under no circumstances are you to leave the city.
BRACKEN REID: The eyes of the Constabulary
are upon you, Mademoiselle.
Just because we let you walk out that door
doesn't mean you're getting away.
[French accent] You have no right to accuse me!
I am an innocent woman!
And I am... [Gasps]
My goodness.
You're ravishing.
Uh...
I hardly recognized you, Dr... .
Thank goodness you are here! These people are terrible!
[Both moaning]
You're free to go, Miss Pearce.
Good day, Detective.
MURDOCH: Good day.
[Clears throat]
Dr. Grace?
DR. GRACE: [Breathes deeply]
[Normal voice] I can explain.
Please don't.
[Chuckles softly]
[Laughs]
The whole bloody thing was almost a total cock-up.
[Both laugh]
Thankfully, Dr. Grace kept her wits about her.
Oh, well, from the sounds of it,
you all performed wonderfully well.
So, do we think Miss Pearce believes
Mademoiselle Denueve is your chief suspect?
I believe so.
Good. Then it's time for stage three.
Gentlemen, gather your players. It's time to finish this job.
I admire a woman with confidence and conviction, Mrs. Chadwick.
Well...
Well, I admire a man
who's not afraid to offer a woman a compliment.
That's not difficult when a woman so deserves one.
Oh, my, my, Inspector.
A compliment on top of a compliment.
A girl should watch herself around you.
Don't worry, madam. I'm a gentleman.
Oh, I don't doubt it.
It's just it appears
I'm not the only one here so skilled in the art of seduction.
Scotch.
The first murder I committed was easy,
nothing more than a game, really.
I held no particular rancor towards the victim.
He was just an essential part of the exercise.
But once I got s tarted, it was very hard to s top.
[Breathes deeply]
I'm a happily married man, Murdoch.
Yes, sir.
I wouldn't change a thing, even if I could.
Of course not.
I don't think that's quite fair, George,
being angry with me for kissing Mr. Garland.
I had no choice.
Remember that moving picture you did?
It's exactly the same situation.
Oh, really? You think that's quite accurate, Emily?
Because I saw the kiss you gave Garland.
It seemed quite genuine to me.
I can't even imagine still being a bachelor at my age.
Of course not, sir.
Then again...
What of it?
It's not as if you and I are married.
Let me tell you this, Murdoch.
A man has to experience what life has to offer
before he can be a good husband.
Well, if that's the way you feel,
then maybe we should just break things off
until you're done with your diversions.
Are you ending things with me?
- I'm not going to... [Sighs] - Are you?
George?
Yes, I suppose I am.
That's the signal. Are you ready?
Yes. Of course I am.
Eva Pearce is approaching.
Yes, I see that.
[Gasps] Cassie Chadwick!
- PEARCE: Miss Worthington. - Ah!
I was so pleased to receive your invitation to lunch.
So... unexpected.
Oh, please, please call me Lucretia.
And I do apologize for my behavior the other day.
I had somehow mistaken you for my brother's previous dalliance
who was... ugh.
- Between us... - [Breathes deeply]
...are the rumors true?
Are you really affiliated
- with Mr. Andrew Carnegie? - [French accent] Yoo-hoo!
- Oh, dear. - Miss Worthington!
There is the woman I was referring to now. Don't look!
- A Miss Denueve, I believe? - Miss Worthington!
Miss Denueve? How...
Miss Denueve, I have made my feelings toward you
perfectly clear.
But I would never kill your brother.
I loved him. You must believe me.
I don't believe a word.
- Miss Desaree Denueve! - It's not true.
You are under arrest for the murder of Mr. Lan Worthington!
- DR. GRACE: What?! - Come with me.
- No! - [Gun cocks]
I will not go.
CRABTREE: Miss Denueve, please put the gun down.
No.
Miss Denueve, you're not helping your case. If you just...
- If you just come with me... - No.
Miss Denueve, look, l-l-I realize you're very upset,
you've been wronged...
[Gunshot]
- [Crowd gasps, murmurs] - [Gasps]
Oh, dear. Come away, child.
Emily, are you all right?
Emily?
Emily!
- [Normal voice] They gone? - Oh, for Pete's sake!
BRACKEN REID: Dr. Grace, are you really hurt?
[Sighs]
I added the blood last minute. [Chuckles]
There's always some on hand in the morgue.
You could have at least warned me.
Very good, both of you.
- Well, I certainly believed it. - Oh, yes, sirs.
It appears Dr. Grace is quite good at deception and chicanery.
Do you take me for a fool?
If you continue, you will both die.
- [Indistinct conversations] - [Rhythmic tapping]
Higgins! Will you stop that?!
[Sighs] Two days of following Eva Pearce
from beauty salon to hairdressers, and nothing.
Not even as much as a nod to Russell Creek Road.
Patience, gentlemen.
Nothing will dissuade Miss Pearce now.
Then why the delay?
Sir, the mail's just come in.
There's a letter for you with no return address.
"Ian Worthington's body
is in the southeast corner of Russell Pond."
Signed Anonymous.
There is no way we'll be able to prove she sent this.
[Chuckles] I'm beginning to admire this woman's ingenuity.
As am I.
I believe it's in our best interest
to declare this case officially closed.
- CRABTREE: Sir? - Oh.
Oh...
[Telephone ringing, indistinct conversations]
Well, how tall was he?
Well, how tall are you?
Well, as we've never met, that doesn't really help me.
Excuse me? Constable?
Well, how tall are you?
- Detective Murdoch. - Miss Pearce.
Constable Crabtree is busy on another case at the moment.
If you could please have a seat.
You don't know how tall you are?
PEARCE: [Gasps] Miss Worthington.
Miss Pearce.
PEARCE: So, they've asked you to the station, as well?
Yes, though I have no idea why.
You don't suppose there's been some... development?
I wonder if they found
- Ian's body. - Oh!
Miss Chadwick. Miss Worthington. Thank you for your trouble.
We've brought you in to inform you
that the Constabulary have concluded
that Mr. Worthington was, indeed, killed
- by the late Miss Denueve. - [Voice breaking] Oh...
A tragic, unfortunate circumstance.
However, as Miss Denueve is of course no longer with us,
we have to declare the investigation officially closed.
CHADWICK: Closed?
But how can the investigation be closed?
Has the body been located?
No, it hasn't as of yet, I'm afraid.
We did receive an anonymous letter suggesting
the whereabouts of his remains might be in a pond.
But we sent a man out to have a poke around. He didn't find it.
But you must look again.
Well, yes, I mean, what if the man simply failed
to locate poor Ian, and his body is down...
Look, ladies, I'm very sorry.
The Constabulary is not in the business of corpse recovery.
I mean, we just don't have the resources
to go reinvestigating every anonymous tip.
Oh...
If Mr. Worthington's remains are found,
you'll be the first to know.
Thank you for coming in.
Oh.
Well, that's that, then.
[Breathes deeply] Terrible.
But I should be returning to the Continent in the morning.
There's... There's just no sense sitting vigil.
But surely we can't leave things as they are.
All will be settled in time, my dear.
These seven years will just fly by.
Now, thank goodness you have
your benefactor, Mr. Carnegie, to take care of you.
Don't grieve.
Till then, Miss Chadwick.
PEARCE: Miss Worthington.
Do you have those figures I requested from you earlier?
- CRABTREE: Yes, sir. - MURDOCH: Wonderful.
CRABTREE: As you can see...
George.
Sir. On my way.
[Grunting]
Where are you?
Where?!
MURDOCH: Miss Pearce.
- What are you doing? - [Breathes deeply]
You'll catch your death in there.
BRACKEN REID: Nice of Mr. Carnegie
- to invite us, Murdoch. - MURDOCH: Yes.
I'm just not sure why, exactly.
CHADWICK: Inspector Brackenreid.
- BRACKEN REID: Ah. - CHADWICK: Detective Murdoch.
- MURDOCH: Mrs. Chadwick. - CHADWICK: Oh, here you are.
I didn't want to leave
without saying goodbye and thanking you both.
Oh, you've done me such a great service catching my impostor.
Oh, it's our pleasure.
And thank you for your assistance.
Were it not for you,
we may have never put Eva Pearce behind bars.
Oh, you're too kind.
And... take care of yourselves, please, won't you?
There are many more "Cassie Chadwicks" out there.
None quite so devious as Eva Pearce, I hope.
Women can be very misleading.
We are all capable of looking straight into a man's eye
and disguising any lie as the truth.
We do it every day.
Well, all are capable, but not all are so inclined.
Well, I hope for your sake that's true, Detective.
[Breathes deeply]
It's been a pleasure, Mrs. Chadwick.
And if I wasn't a legitimately married woman, Inspector...
So, till we meet again, gentlemen.
Good day.
[Breathes deeply]
CARNEGIE: Ah, Inspectors. Thank you for coming.
MURDOCH: Mr. Carnegie.
I understand you've apprehended one Cassie Chadwick?
MURDOCH: Yes, sir, also known as Eva Pearce.
She's being tried for the murder of Ian Worthington.
Yes. Well, I've just received word
about another "Cassie Chadwick."
Operating in Cleveland.
Married to a respectable doctor.
Seems she's been borrowing money against my name for a long time,
pretending to be my illegitimate daughter.
"Capable of looking a man straight in the eye..."
Bloody hell! She's pinched my wallet!
MURDOCH: Ho, ho, ho.
- It's not funny, Murdoch. - No, sir.
[Sighs]
Not to worry, Murdoch.
I'll make the necessary phone calls to Cleveland
and alert them of the embarrassing truth.
"Excuse me, officers.
It seems that we've assisted
the original and entirely active Cassie Chadwick
in shutting down the activities of her own copycat."
I need no reminder, sir.
Oh, cheer up, Murdoch.
Sometimes you have to sacrifice a small fish
to catch the big one.
You brought a two-time murderess to justice.
That's the important part.
Sirs, I'll be leaving for the day.
Why don't you treat yourself and Dr. Grace to a nice meal
courtesy of Station House Number Four?
Oh.
BRACKEN REID: The happy couple deserve it
after all their hard work, don't you think, Murdoch?
Sirs, Dr. Grace and I are not...
socializing in that manner at this time.
George, I'm sorry to hear that.
Surely just a bump in the road, eh, Crabtree?
She's taken with another chap.
You've got to fight for the girl, Crabtree.
Get in there and show her who's the better man.
Well, don't just bloody stand there
and let a good thing walk out the door.
Yes, sir.
Very good advice, sir.
Of course it's bloody good advice.
And George wasn't the only one to hear it.
Murdoch, what are you doing? That's my scotch.
Sir...
I'm going to ask Dr. Ogden to marry me.
When?
No time like the present.
About bloody time, Murdoch. [Chuckles]
- [Coughs lightly] - BRACKEN REID: [Laughs]
Good man!
[Exhales sharply]
Emily?
I hope I'm not intruding.
No, not at all, Mr. Garland.
Please allow me to apologize for the other day.
I hope you understand
the nature of the situation I was placed in.
Yes, of course. I... understand entirely.
I-I hope you haven't formed
a false impression of my true intentions.
I hope so, as well.
Um...
Por mademoiselle.
I, uh... I was wondering
if you might allow me to escort you to dinner.
Hmm? A nice bistro, perhaps?
Uh...
Mr. Garland, I couldn't possibly...
Of course.
You are spoken for.
I apologize.
Actually...
...dinner would be nice.
[Chuckles softly]
[Horse hooves clomping, wheels creak]
William?
What are you doing here?
Julia, I-I have something to ask you.
- Julia... - William...
...I sincerely hope
that you could make me the happiest man on...
No, William. [Sighs]
Just a moment. By agreeing to...
William, I'm sorry. I-I just can't.
- MURDOCH: What? - I...
MURDOCH: Julia?
Julia!
[Knock on door]
Julia.
Open the door.
Julia, please, let me in.
Julia!
- [Sobbing] - Julia, please!
Ripped By mstoll