All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - S09E06 REMUX.eng

[ Indistinct talking ]

Evening, gentlemen.

Good evening.
How are you tonight?

Into the whiskey already,
I see.

- What did you call me?
- I called you an oaf.

Only a moron would
say something so idiotic.

MAN:
Evening, Councilman.

My drink is being poured
before I even take my seat.

This is what makes you the best
barkeep in Toronto Junction.

Shut your mouth,
you little rat.

Or what?

Shall I open
another bottle, sir?

You haven't already?

Watch yourself, man!

CRABTREE:
The entire Junction

is just one unseemly hotel
after the next.

Make no wonder they need
extra constables on this beat.

It's just some drunks, George.
Better than prohibition.

I don't know.

I think the local option would
clean this place up nicely.

George, prohibition is no fun.

What would people do
after work?

Jackson, Toronto is one of the
greatest cities in the world.

Go visit a museum.
Go for a swim in Lake Ontario.

Anything you could dream of
is at your fingertips.

Well, I dream
of having a drink.

[ Chuckles ]

Oh!

Hey!

See what I mean?

Toronto Constabulary!

Hey, hey!
Break it up!

Now! Hey!

Back off.
Stay down.

That's enough!

You're all
spending a night in the cells!

Thomas, we're to have
a house guest this week.

She'll be staying in
Bobby's room while he's away.

It's not your sister again,
is it?

No. I told you, she's too ill
to travel this year.

Oh, right.
That's terrible.

In fact, we're to receive
a woman of some celebrity.

Oh?

A celebrity
of the temperance movement.

Oh.

The Reverend Shore is bringing
her all the way to Ontario

to give a speech
in favor of the local option.

Over 100 towns in this
province are already dry,

and our campaign in the
Junction is nearing success.

John.

Why in God's green earth
do you care

whether the Junction goes dry?

As the Junction goes,
so goes Toronto.

- Hide this.
- Oh, that's going too far.

And do not tell your father
where it is

until our houseguest is gone.

Yes, Mother.

I tell you what, if the city
of Toronto ever does go dry,

we're moving
straight back to England.

[ Streetcar bell dings ]

Oh, sir,
it's a terrible place.

I hope I never have to work

another beat
in the Junction again.

Not so long ago, Crabtree,
you were in prison.

Consider yourself lucky
to have any beat at all.

Point well taken, sir.

Right, then, gentlemen.
Rise and shine.

Off you go, lads.

Oi! You there.
Let's go.

Hey! Wake up!

Sir, I think we have
a problem with this one.

What is it?

He's dead.

His name is Arthur Slauson.

He's a lawyer and councilman
in the Junction.

He was involved in the
bar brawl there last night.

MURDOCH: Why were our constables
patrolling up there?

Too many drunks
and not enough coppers.

We were asked to send
a few men to help out.

We can assume he was injured
in the brawl

and succumbed sometime later.

The body has bruising
and a few small gashes

but nothing obviously fatal.

I'll need to check
for cerebral edema

and other internal injuries.

He was healthy enough to be
throwing punches last night.

His cellmates said
he never woke up,

never even made a sound.

Any idea how long
he's been dead?

I'd estimate
no more than two hours.

- So it could be natural causes?
- I really can't say.

I'll have
him delivered to the morgue

and get you an answer
straightaway.

Thank you, Doctor.

You're quite welcome,
Detective.

Right. Where are the men
that he fought with?

- Did you know Mr. Slauson?
- Who?

Councilman Arthur Slauson.

The man you were fighting with
last night.

I was fighting
with a lot of men last night.

Was he that fancy fellow?

I'll take that to mean
that you did not know him.

BERTRAND:
I knew Slauson.

We were friendly.
He was my neighbor.

And yet you were fighting.

I wouldn't say that.

I got tangled with a few men,

but the one
I was really fighting with

was Charlie Cutter.

What caused the fight?

I don't know what caused it.
We were just fighting.

There must have been
a reason.

At some point
Liam hit that fancy fellow,

and then all hell broke loose.

So Mr. Bertrand
hit Mr. Slauson.

If I hit Slauson,
it was an accident.

I was really trying to hit
Charlie Cutter.

Did you see anyone else
strike Mr. Slauson?

Sure. I hit him.
More than once.

If you struck Mr. Slauson
in the head, Mr. Cutter,

you may be responsible
for his death.

The fight had nothing to do
with this man's death.

Natural causes?

Far from it.
He was poisoned.

Poisoned?

Doctor, Mr. Slauson wasn't
given anything to eat or drink

from the time we arrested him

until the time
we found him dead.

He had acidosis of the blood

leading to a depression
of the nervous system.

Though it can result
from chronic illness,

it's most unlikely.

How was he poisoned?

I have yet to identify
the specific substance,

but if he ingested nothing
since last night,

then we're looking for
something slow-acting.

Poison would suggest
premeditation.

If he was a city councilman,

the motive could be political.

JAMES: If you'll pardon
my interruption, Detective,

I have seen
this man speak before.

Gentlemen, this is Miss James.

She's been assisting me
in the morgue.

A pleasure to make
your acquaintance, Miss James.

Dr. Ogden speaks very highly
of you.

When did you hear him speak,
Miss James?

Some weeks ago.

He was an advocate
for the trade.

- The liquor trade.
- That's right.

Well, in that case, I would
have a bone to pick with him.

If there ever was a place
in need of the local option,

it's the Junction.

The place is teeming with drunks
at all hours.

A filthy, awful place.

And one Miss James
calls home.

[ Stammers ] Of course no place
is all bad.

I'm sure there's plenty
to recommend in the Junction.

Trains, for instance.
It's easy to leave.

Not that you'd want to lea...

[ Clears throat ]
Um...

Miss James,
why do you suppose alcohol

has become such a problem
in the Junction?

It's the first stop
on the rail lines,

so there's a hotel
on every corner.

Those places offer
all manner of temptation.

And are the people
of the Junction

in favor of the local option?

Overwhelmingly, sir.

As am I.

A pro-liquor councilman dead

in the midst
of a temperance campaign.

Sounds to me like the man's
politics got him killed.

We should establish
a timeline of everything

Mr. Slauson consumed
leading up to his death.

Perhaps his wife can help us
account for his final hours.

I'll call Chief Royce
in the Junction

and tell him that
we'll handle the investigation.

- Sir.
- Right, then. Is this one mine?

Oh, sir, I-I thought
you'd be taking the carriage.

I can handle
a little bike ride, Murdoch.

Do try to keep up.

Sir.

I believe the Slauson place
is right over here.

[ Gasping ] See?

Piece of cake, Murdoch.

I was just as quick as you.

Well, sir, I wasn't...

Oh, yes. Quite swift.
Quite swift, sir.

All this local option business
is ridiculous, if you ask me.

Sir, if it's what the people
of the Junction want,

I see no reason to prevent it.

Liquor is a good thing
for a good man.

A few drunks having too much is
hardly cause to get rid of it.

I've never understood
the appeal of alcohol, sir.

It impedes the brain's ability
to function,

making it impossible
to think clearly.

Well that's just it, Murdoch.

Don't you ever want to relax
and stop thinking

for a couple of hours?

No.

I'm very sorry, Mrs. Slauson,

but we believe
your husband was murdered.

Poisoned, in fact.

My God.

How? Why?

We were hoping you'd be able to
help us with that, Mrs. Slauson.

Where was your husband prior to
10:00 p.m. last evening?

Last I saw him, he was
on his way out after supper.

It was about half past 8:00.

And what was prepared
for supper?

Beef and carrots.

BRACKENREID: Did you make
the meal yourself?

I did. And shared in it.
It was fine.

- Anything to drink?
- Only water.

I don't allow liquor
in the house.

Where did Mr. Slauson go
at half past 8:00?

The Peacock Hotel,
as he's done every night

since I stopped allowing liquor
in the house.

Witnesses state that your
husband didn't arrive there

until nearly 10:00 p.m.

Oh. That's right.

I'm sorry.
This is all terribly...

He had a meeting to attend
with the Reverend Shore.

What was it about?

The reverend and his fellow
temperancers want town council

to call a plebiscite vote
on the local option.

But to do so, they need
every councilor on board.

Your husband
was one who opposed it.

My husband was the only one
who opposed them.

He was the last man standing
between the Junction

and prohibition.

The scourge of liquor
is a terrible thing.

It turns homes into hovels.

We must stand up
to this scourge,

for temperance is the will
of the Lord himself.

- Amen!
- Amen!

Amen! Hallelujah!

SHORE: It pleases me very much
to introduce to you

a special guest,

a woman of great standing

who has dedicated her life
to our cause,

Mrs. Carrie A. Nation.

[ Indistinct shouting ]

- Sir?
- Bloody Margaret.

Liquor is not merely a scourge.

Liquor is
a pestilential highway

leading to ruin
and wretchedness!

[ Applause ]

Liquor is ruining the lives
of our children,

both born and unborn.

It is the embodiment
of pure evil!

Bollocks.

I think that's the woman
who's staying at my house.

Well, she certainly knows how
to stir up a crowd.

They scarcely need it.

These temperancers live and die
for their cause.

Those who stand in our way
must be destroyed!

Hear, hear!

The question is, is one of them
willing to kill for it?

Poisoned? How awful.

Reverend, we understand
you hosted a meeting last night.

Yes, at my home.

We met with Councilman Slauson
at 9:00 p.m.

for, oh, about half an hour.

You attempted to sway him
in favor of temperance?

We wanted him to agree
to put it to a plebiscite vote,

to put the decision
of temperance

into the hands
of the Junction's citizens.

So you leaned on him.

We merely wanted to converse
with him on the matter.

A conversation
that ended in his death.

Just what are you suggesting?

Your guest speaker
was wielding an ax, Reverend.

Your followers are,
shall we say, passionate.

Nothing will stand
in the way of temperance.

And, yes, I may have
let Mr. Slauson know that

in no uncertain terms.

- But I did not kill him.
- Maybe you know who did.

I do not.

But in all honesty,
it could have been anyone.

The man
was a belligerent drunk

who offended, insulted, and
became violent with all he met.

Even his wife
complained about him.

One more thing, Reverend.

Was anything served
at the meeting last night?

Yes. Tea.

I made it,
and I poured it myself.

The poison was methanol.
Better known as wood alcohol.

- Killed by alcohol.
- A form of it, yes.

Well, that's ironic...

A supporter of the liquor trade
dying from alcohol consumption.

You could say he drank himself
six feet under the table.

[ Chuckles ]

You'll get used to Dr. Ogden's

morbid sense of humor,
Miss James.

In any event,
wood alcohol is very different

from the type of alcohol
used in liquor.

The two taste similar, but
wood alcohol is quite deadly.

As little as an ounce
can kill a man.

Could he have ingested it
accidentally, without realizing?

It's possible.

The initial effects are not much
different from regular alcohol.

Mild drunkenness, headaches.

I had Miss James read up on it.

Wood alcohol is converted
to formic acid in the liver,

causing metabolic acidosis.

The victim goes blind,

sinks into unconsciousness,
and dies.

But none of those symptoms
take their effect

until hours after ingestion.

Which would explain
why he died

so long after being taken
into custody.

But here's the odd thing
about wood alcohol.

It has a common antidote.

- Oh?
- Liquor.

Regular alcohol inhibits
the poison's effect on the body.

It's administered by doctors

in the case of accidental
wood alcohol consumption.

So if Mr. Slauson had
had even one drink

at the Peacock Hotel...

It would have saved his life.

Of course he had a drink.
Why else would he come to a bar?

- You're absolutely certain?
- Yes.

- You served him yourself, then?
- As I always do.

I saw Mr. Slauson
as he entered,

so I reached for his bottle
straightaway.

MURDOCH: His bottle?

You buy a bottle
of the good stuff

and keep it behind the bar.

"Stakeholders" we called them
back home.

That's right.

This was his brand...
Dempsey's gin.

Double, straight, no ice.
Never drank anything else.

So no one else
ever drank from his bottle.

Certainly not.

You poured him the drink
last night.

But did you actually see him
drink it?

Yes.

I recall distinctly.
He drank it down in one go.

Was his reaction
to the drink at all unusual?

In fact it was.
He pulled quite the face.

I figured
something must be wrong,

but before I could inquire,
the fight broke out.

Mr. Buck,
something was indeed wrong.

That drink contained the poison
that killed Mr. Slauson.

No.
That's impossible.

I served him a drink from the
same bottle the night before,

and he had no complaints.

Did anyone have a chance
to get behind your bar

and tamper
with Slauson's bottle?

No, not last night.

MURDOCH: Before that?

Earlier in the day?
The evening previous?

I suppose someone could have
tampered with it during the day.

I work the hotel desk.

The bar is closed,
but someone could walk in

if my back were turned.

And where is the bottle
in question?

Well, the drink I poured him
was the last of the bottle.

It's in
with the other empties.

Any idea which one
is Mr. Slauson's?

They're all Mr. Slauson's.

No one else drinks his brand.
I only order it for him.

As for which bottle is
from last night, I'm not sure.

We'll take all of them.

[ Glass clinking ]

MURDOCH: Did anyone touch these
since last night?

No, certainly not.

The only person who's been in

since your lot
cleared the place out

was poor Mrs. Slauson,
looking for her husband.

- Miss James.
- Good evening, Constable.

You have the gin bottles
I am to test?

I do indeed.

I'm told one of these bottles
contains our murder weapon.

- I was never one for gin myself.
- Nor I.

Well, of course not. You're on
the side of temperance.

I'm on the side
of the local option.

What's the difference?

I only want temperance
for the Junction.

If they want to drink somewhere
else, they can go right ahead.

I simply don't want them
in my front yard.

So you have
nothing against liquor.

I have a glass of brandy
every night before bed.

But, now, if the Junction opts
for the local option...

I can assure you, Constable,

no law will keep me
from my brandy.

Honestly, would a prohibition
really stop a man from drinking?

If one bar closes,
he moves down the street.

Yes, I suppose he does.

I, for one,
am looking forward

to the rally tomorrow,
Mrs. Nation.

As am I, Mrs. Brackenreid.

I wish there were
more good people like you

south of the border.

If there were, Mr. McKinley
could have been saved.

He drank in secret, you know?

Did you know that,
Mrs. Brackenreid?

Uh, no,
I don't believe I did.

He was possessed
by the devil.

The Lord had no choice
but to put that bullet

right through
President McKinley's heart.

Ah, the Wednesday won again.
One-nil against Stoke.

[ Chuckles ]

John.

Ah, excuse me, ladies.

NATION: Now, I'm not saying
I'm glad he's dead.

Where's my Scotch?

I'm not supposed to tell.

Oh, come on, son. You can't
keep a man from his drink.

- Mother made me promise.
- I'll tell you what.

I promise not to tell her
that you told me.

It'll be our secret,
one man to another.

I-I hid it in my room,
behind the dresser.

Good lad.

Our little secret.

Mr. Slauson arrived
at the Peacock Hotel at 9:55

and promptly consumed a drink

from his usual bottle
of Dempsey's gin.

But it wasn't gin.
It was poison.

It had to be.

We also know that Mr. Slauson
was a heavy drinker,

hardly in the habit
of having just one drink

and calling it a night.

If he had stayed at the hotel,

he would surely
have took another drink.

Who wouldn't?

The first drink
polished off the bottle.

Pure poison.

Had he had time
to have a second drink,

it likely would have come
from a brand-new bottle.

Pure gin.

And the real stuff would have
counteracted the poison.

Indeed.

For the poison to take effect,

he had to be prevented
from taking that second drink.

The bar fight.

You think it was staged

to stop Slauson
from taking another drink?

Well, sir, he likely
wouldn't have died

if the bar fight
hadn't happened.

It played a crucial part
in his murder.

Then the two drunks
who fought with Slauson

could be our killers
after all.

Sir?
No bicycles?

I think it's time to get back

to a more civilized
mode of transport, Murdoch.

Very sensible.

When we get there,
we'll split up.

I'll take Cutter's place.
You go after Bertrand.

- Yes, sir.
- CRABTREE: Sir!

Sir.

I have
a business proposition.

- Make it quick, Crabtree.
- Sir.

If the Junction
were to go dry,

where would people go
for a drink?

I believe the idea is
for them not to drink, George.

[ Laughs ]
Prohibit drinking?

No law can get between a man
and his drink, Murdoch.

Precisely, sir.

He would just go down the road
to the next bar.

So, what if someone
were to open a bar

just down the road
from the Junction?

That someone
would make a killing.

Every drunkard in that part of
town would start drinking there.

Sir, I've found the perfect
plot of land for sale,

just across the town line.

I have to admit,
that's a clever enterprise.

Thank you, sir. Your investment
would be welcome also.

Oh. Well...

Now, hang on.
I thought this was my deal.

I'll tell you what, Crabtree.

You keep my name out of it,
and I'll match your investment.

Just make sure the wife
doesn't hear about it.

Sir.

[ Knocking on door ]

Good afternoon, Detective.

Mrs. Slauson.

I'm afraid Mr. Bertrand
left early this morning

and hasn't returned.

Oh, I see.

Thank you.

Fine day, isn't it?

Indeed it is.

[ Sighs ]
Cutter wasn't home, Murdoch.

Apparently Mr. Bertrand
isn't either.

Oh, well, not a problem.

I know where to find a couple
of drunks on a sunny afternoon.

NATION:
In the name of the Lord,

we shall destroy
these dens of immorality!

[ Cheering ]

We shall deliver them

to the same defilement
and devastation

to which they have delivered
so many souls!

[ Cheering ]

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

I knew the one man, yes.
Liam Bertrand.

And what of the man he was
fighting with? Charles Cutter.

I can't say
I'd ever seen him before.

Have they been in today
for a drink?

No, neither man's been in
since the brawl.

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

- Local option!
- Local option!

NATION:
Clear the way!

Vice! Sin!

Despicable iniquity!

MAN: What is this?

What are you doing?
Stop!

- Are you out of your mind?
- BRACKENREID: That's enough!

You've made your...
You've made your point!

- How dare you?!
- Shut it!

MURDOCH:
Ladies. No...

NATION: Let go of me!

Ladies, ladies.

NATION: Well, I never!

Long live temperance!

Margaret!
Damn it, woman!

NATION:
Get your hands off me!

Sir.

Look, it's them.

What, the two drunks
we're looking for?

MURDOCH:
Cutter and Bertrand.

What are they doing
with this lot?

Perhaps they aren't drunks
after all.

Excuse me, gentlemen,

but you're going to be
coming with us.

- Local option!
- Local option!

[ Door opens ]

BRACKENREID: Right, then.
Margaret. Ladies.

Home time.

Thank you, Thomas.

Ah, ah.
Not you.

You let me out of here
this instant.

You destroyed
a man's place of business.

That is a crime, Mrs. Nation.

The purveyors of vice and sin
are the ones guilty of crimes.

[ Chuckles ]
Do you know what's funny?

- What?
- I'm the police inspector.

I get to choose what crimes
we arrest people for.

Come on, Margaret.

Let's go and have a drink.

[ Gasps ]

You can't just leave her here.

Are you defending her?

Things may have gotten
out of hand, but we meant well.

She took an ax
to a man's bar.

She is our houseguest,
Thomas.

Oh, Lord, give me strength.

It would appear
that you are a supporter

of the temperance movement,
Mr. Cutter.

Did I ever claim otherwise?

You and Mr. Bertrand
were just in a bar.

How do you explain that?

I wasn't drinking.

Then why were you there?

To start a fight.

You explicitly intended
to start the fight?

It's part of a plan
to further our cause.

And that plan involved
the death of Councilman Slauson.

No, of course not.

If the fight wasn't intended
to cause his death,

then why start it?

Public opinion is everything

in the campaign for temperance,
Detective.

If fights break out in bars,
people blame liquor.

Thus engendering support
for your cause.

It is a victimless crime.
We're helping people.

Was this the first time
you've staged a brawl?

No. We've been asked to do it
a number of times.

- Asked by whom?
- Reverend Shore.

It's his idea.

George, what do we know

of Reverend Shore's whereabouts
that day?

Well, prior to meeting
Mr. Slauson,

the reverend was on a train
from Cleveland,

accompanying Mrs. Nation.

MURDOCH: Oh.

So he wouldn't
have had opportunity

to poison the gin bottle,
then.

CRABTREE: No, sir. His train
didn't arrive until 7:00.

By then the bar was open and
under Mr. Buck's watchful eye.

Still, he could have organized
the entire thing.

CRABTREE: If he employed
Bertrand and Cutter

to start a fight,

he could have paid them
to poison the bottle as well.

It's possible.

But if he did organize it,
we have no proof.

It's up to you to do something
about him, Margaret.

It's a wife's duty to keep
her husband from drink,

lest his drunkenness
infect the family.

Thomas is capable
of making his own choices.

John! Supper!

Make his own choices?
He's choosing damnation.

Care to explain this,
Margaret?

MARGARET:
How did you find that?

I'm sorry, Mrs. Nation.
I attempted to keep it from him.

And you did
quite the job of it.

It's been watered down.

I did not touch the contents
of your bottle.

No? Oh!
Then maybe it was Mrs. Nation.

Dumped as much as you thought
you could get away with, eh?

Or did you fancy
a wee nip yourself?

How dare you, sir?!

Those who preach the loudest

are always the biggest
hypocrites, aren't they?

Oops.
[ Chuckles ]

[ Laughs ]

What are you laughing at?

The boy is drunk!

You've corrupted
your own offspring.

I am terribly sorry,
Mrs. Nation.

[ Whispering ] Take care
of this, Thomas.

We should take a hatchet
to the both of them.

That's rather harsh.
[ Laughs ]

[ Laughs ]

[ Clears throat ] Right.

You, upstairs.
Sleep it off.

I'll deal with you
in the morning.

Should have seen him,
Murdoch.

The boy couldn't even
stand up straight.

There's nothing quite like
your first time being drunk.

As I recall, it was one of
the worst moments in my life.

You're not a Brackenreid.

This is true.

At any rate, I recommend
that we canvass the entire area

around the Peacock
for any witnesses...

- [ Knocking ]
- Pardon me, gentlemen.

I have the test results
from the gin bottles.

Oh, were you able to identify
which bottle was poisoned?

In a sense.

Out of 11 bottles,
10 had trace amounts of gin,

but the one exception had
no trace of wood alcohol in it,

just water.

Indicating it had been rinsed.

It would seem so.

So Mr. Slauson
drank the wood alcohol,

the bottle was set aside.

The fight broke out
at that very moment,

and then the killer
must have returned

to rinse away
the evidence afterward.

But our suspects
were arrested.

They spent the evening
in the cells.

MURDOCH: Right.

So Mr. Cutter and Mr. Bertrand
can't be our killers.

DR. OGDEN: What about the man
who poured the drink?

Surely he had access
to the bottle,

both to poison it
and to clean it afterward.

But Mr. Buck
is completely without motive.

In fact,
by staving off temperance,

Mr. Slauson was the only person
keeping him in business.

- The wife.
- Sir?

The barman said
that Mrs. Slauson

stopped by that night.

She could have rinsed the
bottle when he wasn't looking.

I saw her yesterday
leaving her home.

She seemed
in awfully high spirits

for someone whose husband
had just been killed.

But still,
it doesn't quite fit.

Why not?

She knew his routine.
She knew his bottle.

And the Reverend said that they
were hardly locked in, uh,

marital bliss.

But, sir, she didn't orchestrate
the fight.

And how could she have known
that we would arrest her husband

just before he took
that second drink,

before he drank the antidote?

She may have had no idea

that liquor is an antidote
to methanol.

It's hardly common knowledge.
She may have just got lucky.

MURDOCH: Do you recognize this,
Mrs. Slauson?

It's wood alcohol.

It was found in your home.

I use it
to keep my pipes from freezing.

Who doesn't?

It's also the substance
that killed your husband.

I see.
And you think I did it.

You are considerably younger
than Mr. Slauson was.

How did you two
come to be married?

We were in love.

Reverend Shore said you often
complained about your husband.

- Are you married, Detective?
- I am.

Then rest assured your wife
has found occasion

to complain about you.

Perhaps, but she's yet
to find cause to murder me.

Arthur was a different man
when he was drinking.

Always screaming insults...

At me, my mother,
anyone in his path.

And he was a menace
in his motorcar.

Killed a man's dog
in that thing.

And one night he crashed it
right into our front porch.

And the next day,

he always refused to admit
what he'd done.

But I did love my husband,
Detective.

I will mourn him.

And I certainly
did not kill him.

Mr. Slauson died
Tuesday evening.

Where were you
that afternoon?

What does that matter?

Am I to assume
you have no alibi?

For Tuesday?

[ Sighs ]

I was considering joining
the temperance league.

I spent all day
with Margaret Brackenreid.

Margaret's confirmed it.

She even walked Mrs. Slauson
to her door at half past 6:00.

So she didn't have time
to poison the gin bottle.

That leaves us
with only one person

who could have rinsed it out.

The barman.
Leopold Buck.

The one person
who had no motive.

Sirs,
pardon the interruption.

Inspector, it seems our plan

to open a public house
near the Junction

will have to be put on hold.

George, could we discuss this
another time?

We're in the middle
of an investigation.

Actually, sir, I think you'll
find this of interest as well.

As you'll recall,

I found the perfect lot of land
for our venture.

Well, I've just been informed
that land has already been sold.

What, did someone else
have the same idea?

It would appear so, sir.

And the man who bought
the property was Leopold Buck.

The barman?

Looking to profit
from prohibition.

Looks like the man
who poured the deadly drink

now has a motive.

The facts are irrefutable,
Mr. Buck.

You knew of Councilman Slauson's
drinking habits.

You had access
to the gin bottle

both before and after
the poisoning.

You are the only person
who could have killed him.

That's ridiculous.

Why would I Kill
one of my best customers?

You were banking on
the Junction going dry

so that you could open a new
bar just across the town line.

The reverend and I set up
some bar fights

to gain favor for temperance.

What does that have to do
with Councilman Slauson?

He stood in the way
of prohibition.

We were working to convince
him, not to kill him.

You had just purchased
the property.

You needed Councilman Slauson
out of the way

as soon as possible.

No. I didn't kill him.
I didn't...

You can deny it all you want,
Mr. Buck.

But you were the only person

who could have poisoned that
gin bottle and rinsed it out.

I didn't kill him.

Murder to clear the way
for a business venture?

Men have killed for much less.

And Leopold Buck
is the only person

who could have possibly
committed the crime.

Right.
I'd best get on.

Got to give John
a slap on the wrist.

He stole my whiskey.

I'd imagine Margaret
would be calling for more

than a slap on the wrist.

She is.

But you can't keep a Brackenreid
from his whiskey.

[ Chuckles ]

Inspector, forgive me if this is
not my place to say, but...

I've met John.

If he's drinking whiskey,
it could be

that he's just trying to be
more like his father.

What's wrong with that?

I've been drinking for over
30 years with no ill effect.

Well, drinking may work
for you,

but it doesn't agree
with everyone.

My father, for example.

He looks up to you,
Inspector.

You can either
condone his behavior,

or you can put a stop to it.

I'll speak to him.

Mind you,
if he's gonna keep on drinking,

he's got a lot to learn.

When I was his age, I knew
how to nip my father's Scotch.

By the time
John had finished with it,

the bottle
was virtually all water.

Poured myself a drink,
nearly spat it across the room.

[ Laughs ]

Water.

Sir.

What if Mr. Slauson's drink
was neither gin nor poison?

What are you thinking?

Mr. Slauson was disgusted
by his drink,

but it could easily
have been...

Water.

An unpleasant surprise when
you're expecting a stiff drink.

The killer replaced
Mr. Slauson's gin with water

to prevent him
from drinking the antidote.

But the poison itself could
have been administered earlier.

Bloody clever.

That means the bartender is
no longer our prime suspect.

If the bottle
already contained water,

it didn't need to be rinsed
after the brawl.

Exactly.

One of the two men
who started the bar brawl

could be the killer.

Either of them could have
substituted the gin for water

earlier that afternoon.

But the real question is,

did either of them
have opportunity

to poison Mr. Slauson before
his arrival at the hotel?

They were both at the meeting
with Reverend Shore

and at the Peacock thereafter.

They could have walked him
door to door.

Mr. Cutter.

Please tell me again

what happened the night
of Mr. Slauson's death.

I went to the meeting
at the reverend's.

And then after,

Liam Bertrand and I went to
the Peacock and started a fight.

After you left
Reverend Shore's,

did you and Mr. Bertrand proceed
directly to the Peacock Hotel?

Yes.
Well, but not together.

I-I went straightaway.

Liam followed
a few minutes after.

I stayed behind
to speak to the reverend.

What about?

To inform him
the plan was set

and the fight
would happen as expected.

Mm.

Why did Mr. Cutter
not wait for you?

You were both headed
to the same place.

We wanted to enter the hotel
separately, as strangers,

so as to make the fight
more convincing.

Did you see Councilman Slauson

at any point after
the conclusion of the meeting?

Briefly, yes.

The reverend asked to have
one last word with him.

How long after you arrived
at the Peacock Hotel

did Councilman Slauson
get there?

15 minutes, maybe?

I arrived first,

and then Liam arrived
about 10 minutes after.

He just had time
to down one drink,

and then Slauson came in.

A drink?

I thought
you only pretended to drink.

I was pretending.
Liam was drinking.

But he is a temperancer.

[ Chuckles ]

Oh, I am most certainly
a temperancer.

I only drank that night

because we had to make the fight
look real.

I knew Charlie Cutter wouldn't
have more than a sip of lager,

so it were left to me
to make sure

no one suspected
it was a put-on.

Ah.

So you only drink
when you're putting on a show,

as it were.

[ Exhales slowly ]

Well...

I... I may have struggled
with the vice on occasion.

How often would that be?

Every day that I've known him.
The man's a damn drunk.

- He carries a flask.
- A flask?

Was he carrying the flask
with him that night?

Yes.

Well, no, he was sober
at the reverend's,

but he arrived at the Peacock

already three sheets
to the wind.

I mean, honestly,

why do you have to have a drink
on the way to the bar?

If we are to believe

Charlie Cutter's
version of the events,

we can deduce
that Liam Bertrand's flask

contained the poison.

Now, Mr. Bertrand
himself admitted

to seeing Councilman Slauson
after the temperance event,

which gives him opportunity.

Wouldn't Slauson be suspicious

being offered a drink
by a temperancer?

Mr. Bertrand is known
to struggle with his vice.

Still, it seems unusual
to offer somebody a drink

and not have any yourself.

Unless he did share in it.

Mr. Bertrand had been drinking
before arriving to the bar.

Perhaps he was drunk
on the wood alcohol,

drunk on the poison itself.

But, sir, if the killer himself
drank the poison,

wouldn't he be as equally...

Wouldn't he be dead?

BRACKENREID: You're forgetting
about the antidote, Crabtree.

All Bertrand had to do
was down a shot of whiskey

at the hotel bar.

MURDOCH: Which he did.

But the victim had only water,

which allowed the wood alcohol
to kill him.

I've always said
whiskey saves lives.

We are sorely lacking
in evidence.

We've been through
Bertrand's house.

No sign of a flask.

[ Door opens ]

Why am I still here?

'Cause quite simply,
Mr. Bertrand,

I believe you
to be a murderer.

I told you I had nothing to do
with that.

You own a flask, do you not?

Of course you do.

Your friend Mr. Cutter
can attest to it.

Yet our constables were unable
to find a flask in your effects.

Meaning what?

Meaning you disposed of it.

That's sensible, given you
used it to poison a man.

I did no such thing.

Then why dispose of it?

It's rather suspicious
behavior, don't you think?

No, I do not.

Your constables
didn't find my flask, Detective,

because my flask
is right here.

- Whiskey.
- Bourbon, in fact.

Quite fine.
Have a sip if you like.

Are you often in the habit

of sharing your flask,
Mr. Bertrand?

No. You should feel honored,
Detective.

Did Mr. Slauson ever receive
such an honor?

I can't recall.

So it's possible, then,

that we would find Mr. Slauson's
fingermarks on your flask.

It is possible.

He was my neighbor.

We likely shared in a drink
together on occasion.

Hmm. Was Tuesday evening
such an occasion?

I don't recall.

Allow me
to refresh your memory.

It would have been
immediately after

the temperance meeting
at Reverend Shore's.

Do you deny it?

Even if I gave him a drink,
it proves nothing.

- So you did.
- Yes. So what?

So you poisoned him,
Mr. Bertrand.

That's your contention.

Actually,
it's your contention.

You see,
if Mr. Slauson had a drink

out of this flask
that evening,

it could
only have been poison.

Because anything else
would have been the antidote.

I'll admit to nothing, and I'll
say nothing more on the matter.

It was a rather clever scheme,
Mr. Bertrand.

But you've been found out.

You murdered for temperance,
and now you will hang for it.

I did not murder
for temperance.

I did it because that bastard
killed my dog.

Ran him over, drunk,
and meant to do it.

And worst of all,

he wouldn't even admit to it
once he'd sobered up.

He's never
taken responsibility

for a single thing he's done
his entire life.

He's not a man.
He's a devil.

And he got
exactly what he deserved.

Goodbye, Mrs. Nation.
Have a pleasant journey.

I'll do no such thing.

Nor did I have
a pleasant stay.

May God have mercy
on your damnable souls.

Thank you.

[ Door closes ]

What a horrid woman.

I guarantee that woman
drives more men to drink

than she keeps away from it.

John.
Come and have a seat, son.

You know, the first time that my
father caught me getting drunk,

he took his belt to me.

I was your age.
I've never forgotten it.

But if his intention
was to stop me from drinking,

it didn't work.

You kept drinking
behind his back?

Me and my pals knew the best way
to swipe a bottle

from every merchant
in Yorkshire.

Carefree, raising hell.
Best days...

The point is, I may
have turned out all right,

but plenty of my pals
from those days didn't.

Now my job is to make sure
that you and Bobby

don't end up
like one of them.

Then again, you don't have to be
like me either.

Of course
I want to be like you.

You're a smart boy, John.

And I do believe
you'll become a good man.

You may end up being like me.

Or you may end up being
some teetotaling bookworm

like bloody Murdoch.

[ Both chuckle ]

Just don't waste your youth
getting drunk.

Then you can be
whatever kind of man you want.

Yes, Father.

Listen, you're gonna
make mistakes.

We all do.

But maybe you should put off
making this one

until you're
a little bit older.

And when you do,
for the love of God,

don't let your mother
find out.

[ Laughs] Yes, sir.

Go on.

The Junction is quite
a nice town, actually.

We could live here.

If it wasn't so far
from the city.

Imagine 30 minutes
just to get to work.

Plus, it's about to go dry.
What fun is that?

Well, temperance has
its virtues.

A dry Canada
could be quite remarkable.

How so?

With no more time wasted
to the bottle,

imagine the great heights
of industry and ingenuity

our nation could reach.

Well, if temperance truly is
in our future,

we should take advantage of it
while we can.

Julia.

Just one little drink,
William.

Oh, why not?

Do you suppose
they have spruce beer?

- [ Piano music playing ]
- [ Laughter ]