All language subtitles for s02e10 - Murdoch.com.eng

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Am I interrupting?

Oh. Enid.

Mrs. Jones. Of course not.

I-I brought flowers.

For your office.

Well, you certainly
didn't need to do that.

They're blue salvias.

I thought they might
add a feminine touch.

Well, um...

They certainly will.

You forgot, didn't you?

- Forgot?
- Our walk.

Oh.

Oh, I'm so sorry. I got
wrapped up in work.

An... Never mind all that.
A walk would be lovely.

Oh, my.

That doesn't sound
good, does it?

No. No, it doesn't.

There! That tone! I
will not take that tone!

George, is everything all right?

Sir. It's Mrs. Brackenreid.

She stopped by to have
a word with the inspector.

Apparently, he's
been very surly of late.

More than usual?

Mm. She seems to think it
has to do with his drinking.

George, have you
been eavesdropping?

It's not very difficult.

Besides, I have
remarkable hearing.

I won't stand for lies, Thomas,
if you are drinking again.

Have you smelled it
on my breath, Margaret?

Have you seen me swallow
as much as a drop of alcohol?

No, but the Temperance
League says there are other signs.

There you go again with
the Temperance League.

Led by the notorious convicted
murderer Levi Beecher, no less.

And there you go again,
throwing it in my face.

At least they're
making an effort.

You don't like my
drinking, my mood, my job.

For Christ's sakes, woman,
what do you like about me?

I don't know anymore.

Well, that's bleeding
honest of you.

I think it's best that
you don't come home.

I'll send some of
your things around.

Good day, Detective.

Mrs. Brackenreid.

Crabtree, have you
got that station report?

Uh, just a few moments, sir.

I don't want any bloody excuses!

Uh, sir, word's just come
in. A body's been found.

Murdoch, you take that.

Well, what are
you all gauping at?!

I'm afraid our walk
will have to wait.

Perhaps later?

It's a date.

And I can assure you,
this time I will not forget.

George.

Sir.

Apparently, this chap walking
his dog discovered the body.

There's nothing
identifying on her person.

Hm.

Very remote area.

I wonder what she
was doing here.

Well, It would seem, sir,
she wanted to be alone,

to take her own life.

I'm not so sure
about that, George.

Those lacerations to her wrist
seem quite deep for a suicide.

And further, they're
even and steady.

If these wounds
were self-inflicted,

they would be far more jagged.

Murder, then?

So it would seem.

There's no sign of a struggle.

The question is,

why would this young woman
let someone cut her wrists?

I agree with your
observations, Detective.

These wounds
were not self-inflicted.

Whoever did this to her
was methodical and cold.

But why would she not struggle?

There is light
bruising on her neck,

suggesting she was choked.

Not long enough to kill her...

But long enough to
render her unconscious.

I'll deliver a full
report to the station.

When you come, I wonder
if you might do me a favor.

I'm not sure what
my schedule is like.

It's not for me personally.

Inspector Brackenreid's behavior
has been a bit odd as of late.

I wonder if you could
give your opinion.

Well, yes, of course.

Oh. This is interesting.

This woman has a callus
on her right index finger.

I think she was a
telegraph operator.

Oh. Why would you think that?

Enid...

Mrs. Jones has a similar
callus on her index finger

from repeatedly
tapping out code.

Ah. I see.

Lucky for us that
you know her so well.

Mr. Ryder, Great North Western

is the fifth telegraph
company I've checked with.

I was hoping you
might be able to tell me

the identity of
this young woman.

Oh, no. This is... This
is Veronica Williams.

She missed her shift today.

Williams.

She was found
murdered this morning.

Miss Williams was a lovely girl.

Do you know of anyone who
might have wanted to harm her?

No. Sorry.

I don't know if this
means anything,

but she was a little
out of sorts last week.

Oh? Do you have any idea what
might have been troubling her?

Not at all. But
Miss Tipton might.

They were friends.

Beth.

Yes, Mr. Ryder.

Beth Tipton, this is
Detective Murdoch.

Miss Tipton.

I take it you knew
Veronica Williams.

Of course. Ronnie's a dear.

Something wrong?

You have to forgive me.

We'd become quite close.

I understand something

had been troubling
Miss Williams recently.

This is a bit
awkward, Detective.

You can be assured
of my discretion.

Ronnie was corresponding with
someone on the telegraph lines.

A man.

Do you know who he was?

No. But I know he
made her happy.

At first.

At first?

Ronnie mentioned that
they'd had a disagreement.

Do you know what it was about?

I don't know.

Ronnie was quite private.

But all incoming messages

are automatically
printed off and put on file.

I could get
Ronnie's if you'd like.

Well, that would be
most appreciated.

Crabtree. A word.

I suppose you heard the
missus carrying on this morning.

Well, for the most part,
sir, I only heard you.

I have remarkably good hearing.

Then you'll know that I've
been abstaining from alcohol.

That's very admirable, sir.

Yes. Well, it
has been difficult.

So to ease the burden, I've
been prescribed a Gold Cure.

That sounds very exotic.

Bloody expensive is what it is.

Usually I have it
delivered to the house.

But no doubt, you'll be
having it delivered here.

Precisely.

So as soon as it arrives, I
want you to bring it to me.

Sir, consider it in your hands.

And, Crabtree, keep
this under your hat.

This is just between
you and me. Understood?

- Understood, sir.
- Good lad.

Ah, sir, might I have a word
about the Williams case?

What of it?

Well, sir, it seems the
victim was quite upset

about something that occurred
over the telegraph lines.

So find out what it was.

Well, it's not that simple.

You see, I have all of
her correspondence.

Unfortunately, it's
written in Morse code.

It could take days to decipher.

- Well, that won't do, will it?
- No, sir.

That's why I was thinking

of bringing in a
telegrapher to assist me.

Fine, Murdoch.

Do you have someone in mind,

or do you want me to figure
that one out for you as well?

No, sir. I have someone in...

mind.

These messages are so personal.

I-It's like I'm snooping
through her diary.

It could help to
capture a killer.

I'm not even sure
that I belong here.

I haven't worked at Great
North Western in some time.

Enid, I know you've kept up
your codes and telegraphy skills.

But more
importantly, I trust you.

And that's a tremendous help.

It is?

Well, it might be fascinating
to see you at work.

Shall we start with this one?

This one.

Oh, bloody hell. Go away!

Inspector, are you all right?

Oh, Doctor.

Uh, is there something
I can do for you?

I've finished the postmortem
on Veronica Williams.

I thought you'd want
the results right away.

Give it to Murdoch.

Inspector, are you
sure you're all right?

If not, my morgue
is always open.

Doctor, your attempts at
humor are always charming.

And thank you for your
offer, but no, thank you.

Now, goodbye.

"How the attentions... of
such a charming creature

could be directed
to me, I know not.

Signed A.K."

This fellow is quite
the slick wordsmith.

I might need to make
note of his prose.

Oh, here's another one.

"I would yield everything...

just to have the means
to see your face just once.

Signed A.K."

Clearly, whoever this A.K. is,

he and Miss Williams
were having a love affair.

Over the telegraph wires?

- It's surprisingly common.
- Really?

Telegraphy can be quite lonely.

To pass the time,
telegraphers will chitchat

and gossip over the wire.

Some even play games,
like checkers or chess.

And some, like Miss Williams,
form romantic attachments.

But wouldn't an affair
be the talk of the office?

No. Not at all.

If I could just draw
you a diagram,

it'd be easier
for me to explain.

Yes. Of course.

Well...

it's similar to the
spokes on a bicycle.

Telegraph signals travel
over many different lines,

but they intersect
at very few hubs.

Forming a network
of communication.

Yes.

And telegraphers can listen in

to as many different
transmissions as they like,

from anywhere.

Or participate in them.

Well, then how can
we find this A.K.?

I mean, look at
this. It's... It's a web.

He could be
anywhere in the city.

For that matter, this
could be worldwide.

Fortunately, while
every single transmission

is sent in Morse code,

each company has
their own unique code.

It's for reasons of privacy.

So, would this A.K. have used
one of those unique codes?

He most certainly did.

Ah. So, what
company was involved?

I'm sorry, Detective. No
one here has the initials A.K.

Are you sure?

Quite.

However, there was a K.A.

Kingsley Adams.

But I had to terminate his
employment about four weeks ago.

Oh? For what reason?

I caught him
socializing over the lines.

George, I'll need you to locate
this Kingsley Adams immediately.

I'll get the men on it, sir.

Mr. Ryder, I'll need to examine
all of the incoming messages

sent to Mr. Adams.

What's so funny, lads?

Oh, nothing at all, sir.

Nothing at all.

Do you expect
me to believe that?

We're just having a laugh, sir.

Oh, I bet you were.

I bet you thought
it was quite funny,

my wife coming here and
carrying on like she did.

No, sir. Nobody
found that funny at all.

You're probably taking her side.
Thinking that I drink too much.

Sir, that's your private
affair. We would never.

She doesn't appreciate
all that I do for her.

She thinks I'm useless.

Oh, sir, I'm sure
she didn't mean that.

Eh?

What do you know
about it, Crabtree?

Have you been
speaking to my wife?

No, sir. Of course not.

If I find that any of you lot
has been speaking to my wife

- behind my back...
- Sir.

I swear to you, no one
here has spoken to your wife.

Of course not.

Carry on, lads.

You're all so serious.

If he carries on like that,
there'll be a mutiny for sure.

George.

Have we any information
on Mr. Adams' whereabouts?

Sir, we've checked his
home, his neighborhood,

even other telegraph companies
to see if one has employed him,

but there's no sign.

He seems to have vanished.

George, one
doesn't simply vanish.

Keep looking.

Yes, sir.

How goes it with
Mr. Adams' communications?

Quite interesting.

So many of the
messages sent to Kingsley

were romantic,
sweet, even salacious.

So he and Miss Williams
were deeply involved?

Well, yes.

But not all of the messages
sent were from Veronica.

Another woman?

Perhaps this was some
bizarre love triangle gone wrong.

I'll have her brought
in immediately.

Do you know who she is?

Actually, it might not be
quite that simple, William.

That's 13 so far.

This Mr. Adams
was quite the lothario.

Indeed.

Hell hath no fury like a
woman scorned, eh, Murdoch?

Apparently not, sir.

With looking after mother,
I have no time for myself.

She's bedridden.

And since he just
lost his mother,

he understood exactly
what I was going through.

No, his mother is still alive.

He lives with her.

I see. And how often did
you say you were in touch?

At least three times a week.

We share such a
devotion to rescuing birds.

He's building me an aviary,

which we laughed about,
because his name is Avery.

No, actually, it's not. His
name is Kingsley Adams.

Kingsley Adams?

But I work with him.

Here in Toronto.

Yes, I know.

Kingsley?

He's paunchy and
pale, like dough.

And very shy.

Miss Tipton, A.K.
communicated with you

in Great North Western code.

Did you never suspect
that it was Kingsley Adams?

No. Never.

There are over 160 Great
North Western employees

in three offices.

And that's just Toronto.

Besides, Kingsley said
he was from Ottawa.

I... I had no reason
to disbelieve him.

So you never actually
met him face-to-face?

But only because
he's in Buffalo.

I don't understand.

If he's from Toronto,
then why in the world

would he borrow money
to travel to see me?

I knew something wasn't right
when he asked for the money.

Yet you gave it to him?

And you never
heard from him again.

No.

I didn't.

This is all so embarrassing.

All of us duped by
that pitiful creature.

We were just a
bunch of lonely fools.

Beth?

Beth Tipton?

Enid Jones!

Are you working for
the police force now?

Oh, heavens, no.

But you're still with
Great North Western?

I am.

Oh, dear.

- Kingsley Adams didn't...
- No.

I'm only here to help translate
some telegraphic messages.

Oh.

It's all so humiliating.

It's good to see that
you're doing so well.

How is Alwyn? He
must be 9 by now.

He's very well.

We're living on our
own, making ends meet.

And are you
involved with anyone?

Perhaps.

I should get back
to my translating.

Oh, of course.

It was good to see you.

Bye.

So, this Adams,

he seduces several
women, earns their trust,

and then starts
asking for money.

He bilked many of them
out of their life savings.

But why go from fraud to murder?

Maybe he slipped up

and Miss Williams
caught him in his lies.

Now he's up and disappeared.

So how are we supposed
to catch the bugger?

He doesn't know
we're onto him yet.

So?

Maybe we should meet him
where he's most comfortable.

On the telegraph lines.

Aren't you just being
a little bit stupid?

He's not going to
answer to a copper, is he?

No, sir. Not a copper.

I propose we lure Mr. Adams out

by creating the
perfect female target.

Wouldn't that be very
dangerous for her, sir?

She's not gonna
be real, Crabtree.

She's only gonna exist
over the telegraph wires.

Right, then.

Let's make a list
of her qualities.

Uh, very attractive.

He's not going to see her.

Well, there's no harm in
her sounding attractive.

Well, in that case, I
like a woman with spunk.

Spunk.

I think a combination of
domesticity and career.

Independent, yet
not selfishly so.

Independent.

A woman who gives
you a little bit of trouble

every now and again,
keeps things interesting.

Someone you feel at ease
with, yet challenges you.

A woman with strong hips.

An intellectual.

- A woman with large...
- Sir, I'm sure that's enough.

Right, then. I suppose
we should give her a name.

How about Molly?

Sounds sweet, yet
still a little saucy.

Fine.

Who is going to play Molly?

So, Molly.

What's the holdup?

Taking a long time, isn't it?

We did have to wire in
this portable telegraph, sir.

Yes. Well, it's here
now, so let's get cracking.

Will he even hear us?

If Mr. Adams is out there,
he'll hear us, Inspector.

So, how do we do this?

We'll just send out
a hello over the lines

and see if we can
grab anyone's attention.

Try, "Hello, my name is Molly.

I'm new to Toronto.

Such a big city."

No, no, no. You have
to do better than that.

Say, "I've been looking
for a good teahouse.

Does anyone have a suggestion?"

Well, it's obviously
not going to work, is it?

Patience, sir. Patience.

What are they saying?

It's someone claiming
to be a young man.

He suggests... Mary's...

on... Arbor Street.

His signature is T.S.

This could take forever.

Is he always so impatient?

This is exceptional,
even for him.

Yes. No, sir. Trust me, please.

You need to give me the package.

I appreciate that very much,
but I have explicit orders.

Thank you.

Constable?

Who was that gentleman?

Uh, just... just a deliveryman.

It's most curious.

I believe he's also an attendant
at Toronto General Hospital.

- Oh?
- Who is the package for?

- The inspector.
- Is he ill?

I'm not really
at liberty to say.

I see, but if the package
was delivered by an attendant,

then it must be medicinal.

I-I suppose that makes sense.

I wonder if it would
also make sense

that the attendant was meant
to administer the medicine.

- Why would that be?
- Otherwise,

why not simply
send a delivery boy?

Well...

And furthermore, since
you sent the attendant away,

the inspector's not going to
be able to take his medicine,

now, is he?

Yes, I see.

Perhaps given my
medical experience,

I should take the package in.

Um...

Yes. Yes, I suppose
that would be for the beat.

Of course it would be.

Inspector.

Doctor, I'm, uh, quite
busy at the moment.

What are you doing with that?

- Where's...
- The attendant?

I'm afraid Constable
Crabtree sent him away.

What?! The bloody dimwit can't
follow even simple instructions.

Inspector, what is going on?

It's only an injection I'm
taking. The Keeley Gold Cure.

I've heard of it.

For alcohol cravings?

This is absolutely
none of your business.

Yes, I suppose not, but you
are going to need someone

to administer the injection.

Oh, no, no, no.

It'll be a cold day in hell

before any woman
other than the wife

comes anywhere
near my backside, love.

Well, if not me, you'll be
needing much longer arms.

We'll see about that.

Murdoch!

You're a good man, Murdoch.
A man to ride the river with.

I'm glad you're
feeling better, sir.

Much better.

Higgins! Put the kettle on!

The inspector's Gold Cure

certainly seems
to perform miracles.

Doesn't it?

He must be suffering terribly
from alcohol withdrawal.

Indeed.

Detective Murdoch!

It's A.K.

He's attempting
to contact Molly.

I must attend to this.

Of course.

But I would continue to
keep an eye on him, William.

Yes. Of course.

I was just saying that
Molly was new to the city

when he asked me
how I liked Toronto.

Shall I ask him where he is?

No, no. Not too soon.

We don't want to
risk scaring him off.

Um...

Tell him, "I was hoping the city
would offer more adventures."

He says...

"Molly will find adventure."

He's fond of adventure, too.

Your answer.

I'm thinking.

You have to answer quickly,

or he might lose interest
in the conversation.

Um...

"What kind of adventures?"

"One... that involves...

a certain young woman."

Oh, my. This sounds familiar.

"How the attentions of
such a charming creature

could be directed
to me, I know not."

Ha!

"What do you want
to know about me?"

"Everything.

Are you... married?"

Detective.

"I was...

but my husband has passed."

"I am sorry."

"But he left me with a son."

Enid, please.

We mustn't lose him.

"I... would...

like... to...

meet him... one day."

He says he must go
but hopes to talk later.

Excellent.

Might I have a word
with you? In private.

Yes. Of course.

That was most successful.

William, I would rather
that you did not use

my personal information.

A quick decision had to be
made. You said so yourself.

Bringing up my dead husband
in front of your constables...

It was most uncomfortable.

But the idea that this killer
knows that I have a son.

There's no way he
can know it's Alwyn.

Alwyn is everything to me.

And I would do
anything to protect him.

I apologize.

My actions were inappropriate.

Sir, another body
has been found.

Interestingly, just
a short distance

from where we
discovered Miss Williams.

Please excuse me, Mrs. Jones.

A young couple
met for a rendezvous.

They thought the stench
was a dead animal.

Instead, they found this.

Here.

- Hmm?
- Camphor.

Rub it on your lip
to mask the odor.

We may have a
serious problem, George.

Kingsley Adams.

Sir, clearly, this body has
been here for some time.

If this is Kingsley
Adams, then how...

How could he have
been telegraphing me

only minutes ago?

An excellent question indeed.

This is definitely
Kingsley Adams.

His dental records confirm it.

And given the state
of decomposition...

He's been dead so long,

he couldn't have
murdered Veronica Williams.

Have you a cause of death?

Blunt-force trauma.

His temporal bone was shattered.

His body was found at a
known lovers' rendezvous.

Perhaps he was meeting
one of his young ladies there,

one who'd become upset
with his misrepresentations.

I don't understand this
new form of courting.

Over telegraph lines?

Many people become
engaged through letter writing.

But this seems so
much more impersonal.

Yes.

I'm a fan of chemistry myself.

The way a person smells,

the effect they have on you
when you're around them.

Julia?

Yes?

I said, can you tell me when
you think he might have died?

Oh, yes. Um, of course.

I believe he's been
dead roughly three weeks.

Three weeks.

Most interesting.

Thank you, Doctor.

Three weeks. That's significant.

That's significant
because Kingsley Adams

was... was... was...

He was murdered
approximately three weeks ago.

And he was fired from
his job four weeks ago.

Right. Right. But
there's something else.

Something that I
just can't quite grasp.

Well, during that time, It
seems he went from Casanova

to fraudulent charlatan.

Yes. Personality change.

Good observation,
Crabtree. Well done. Like that.

It would suggest that someone
murdered Kingsley Adams

and assumed his identity
over the telegraph lines.

Tragic. But why do that?

To use his intimate
relationships with women

to cheat them
out of their money.

Which they happily gave him.

It's most cruel, really.

This bugger needs sorting out.

So, how do I get
my hands on him?

We know for certain
he's a telegrapher.

- As were the two murder victims.
- Didn't they work together?

Same company,
something like that?

Yes, they did, until he was
dismissed for socializing.

With that Williams
woman. Amongst others.

Perhaps we're still
looking at a love triangle.

But, sir, we've already spoken

with all of
Mr. Adams' conquests.

Actually, I wasn't
thinking of Mr. Adams.

Good.

Good.

Miss Tipton, was
Miss Williams involved

with anyone other
than Kingsley Adams?

No, I...

I don't think so.

Miss Tipton, are you
withholding something from me?

I once saw... well, peeked...

At some of Ronnie's
incoming messages.

It seems she had become
involved with another man

over the telegraph lines.

Why did you not
tell me of this before?

Well, I didn't want to
get into any trouble.

Trouble? Why would
you get into trouble?

Because, Detective, this
other man was my employer.

Frankly, I'm offended
at the insinuation

that I may have had something
to do with either Mr. Adams'

or Miss Williams' death.

But you do admit you were
involved with Miss Williams?

But only over the
telegraph lines.

I couldn't help myself.

She was quite... eager.

Why didn't you
mention this before?

As you know, I've dismissed
people for such dalliances.

I couldn't be seen
as hypocritical.

But there is
something so alluring

about telegraphic romance.

How so?

One can be bolder.

More... explicit.

Perhaps when you
learned Miss Williams

was having a bolder,
more explicit relationship

with Kingsley Adams, you
made him pay with his life.

I did no such thing.

Where were you three weeks ago?

In Hamilton, helping my
brother and his new bride move.

I took a week from work,

so if that's when Adams was
killed, I couldn't have done it.

We'll be checking into that.

I advise that you do.

What do you mean you
couldn't find anything on Ryder?

Well, his alibi checks out, sir.

Did I give you
permission to speak?

- Uh, w-well, no.
- No!

So keep your
bloody trap shut, then!

You're a disgrace,
the lot of you!

Poor excuse for that
uniform you're wearing!

Do I have to do everything
around here by myself?!

Shift, Crabtree!

Sir, might I have a word?

Sir!

Get your bloody hand off me.

Sir, I think I'm speaking
for the rest of the men

when I say that we're very
concerned about your behavior.

- Sir!
- I said take your hand off.

Sir, there's something
wrong with you.

Everybody knows
it, even your missus,

but you refuse to...

So, Doctor, this is what you
get up to down here, is it?

Sometimes.

This is a surprise, Inspector.

Is there something
I can help you with?

I believe there is.

I've not been acting
like myself of late.

There was an incident
between me and Crabtree.

While he is an
annoying little so-and-so,

he's not that annoying.

- Is he all right?
- Yes, yes.

The Gold Cure that
I've been taking...

I think it's having a
strange effect on me.

Yes. I've thought
the very same thing.

- You have?
- Yes, since your shot.

I was simply waiting to
confirm my observations.

Well, there's no need
to wait any further.

Would you like me
to analyze it for you?

I'd appreciate that.

- Good day, Doctor.
- Good day.

I don't know how you do it.

How I do what?

Gamble with people's lives.

At least that's what
this feels like to me.

Enid, I do what I have
to to capture a killer.

- Is it him?
- Yes.

What's he saying?

He says he likes me.

Molly.

What should I tell him?

Tell him what you have to.

"I like you, too."

He's asking if I'm
involved with anyone.

"It's difficult to say.

There is so much to consider

when you have a young
son who needs a father."

What is it?

He says, "Ah, yes. Alwyn."

H-How does he know? How does...
How does he know Alwyn's name?

You have to ask him.

"How do you know his name?"

He says I sound like someone
who used to work with him.

Oh, my God. He knows it's me.

William, he knows it's me.

You can't lose
him. Enid, please.

You have to be strong.

"I don't know what you mean."

"It's not nice...

to lie... Enid.

Veronica lied to me.

Beth lied to me."

He's gone!

He knows about Beth, me, Alwyn.

- William!
- Nothing will happen to you.

I'll send constables around

to take care of
Alwyn straightaway.

Where are you going?

If anyone's in danger,
it's Beth Tipton.

I'll be right back.

Everything will be fine.

We're too late, sir.

So it would seem.

Gabriel Ryder's walking stick.

He was here, then.

Yes.

But more than that,

Gabriel Ryder and Kingsley
Adams are one and the same.

Listen up, lads.
This is Gabriel Ryder.

He's suspected of
kidnapping Beth Tipton,

and he's most likely a killer.

I want this bastard caught
before he hurts this woman.

Well, let's get a move on.

Oh, and, gentlemen,
just to be clear...

I've got total faith in
each and every one of you.

Sirs, lads, Ryder's
house has been searched.

She's not there. Also, he
didn't return to work this morning.

What about Alwyn?

Master Alwyn is safe,
ma'am. He's with a constable.

- Thank goodness.
- Crabtree. A word.

Thank you for agreeing to stay.

Your help could
prove to be invaluable.

I'm doing this for Beth.

Of course.

About what happened.

- It's all right, sir.
- No, it's not.

And if you want to get
me back, that'd be all right.

Get you back, sir?

Go on. Hit me.

- Hit you?
- Hit me.

No, sir. It's really...

Call it even?

Pathetic.

Ah.

Doctor, do come in.

Please, take a seat.

Have you any news for me?

Yes.

I analyzed your Gold Cure.

It contains absolutely no gold.

It does, however, contain
traces of strychnine and cocaine.

Cocaine?

Your mood swings have nothing
to do with alcohol withdrawal.

What you are suffering
from is cocaine addiction.

I suggest you stop
taking it immediately.

However, it won't be easy.

I'm prepared for that.

Well, it may be simpler
than repairing other damages.

Thank you, Doctor.

I'll take that under advisement.

Detective!

- Is it him?
- No.

It's Beth!

- Miss Tipton.
- She's sending an S.O.S.

Can you find out where she is?

She's at the Great
North Western office.

George, organize the men

and search the
building for Mr. Ryder.

- Sir.
- Miss Tipton, are you all right?

It was Gabriel.

He came to my apartment
and... and... and...

- I let him in and then...
- It's all right.

It's all right. You're
fine now. Where is he?

I tried to get away from him,
but he forced me to come here.

I see.

He's gonna come back
and get me. I just know it.

No, he won't.

He's gonna kill me. Please,
j-just get this off of me.

Drink some tea,
dear. You'll feel better.

I can't stop shaking.

I know, dear. I know.

Sir, we stationed
men at the train station.

- No sign of Mr. Ryder.
- Very good.

Though I doubt
they'll be necessary.

Something not sitting
right with you, sir?

- No, it's not.
- I know what you mean.

There certainly are questions.

Why would Mr. Ryder
transport Miss Tipton

to the telegraph office just to
leave here there unharmed?

I mean, why not...

Why not just kill her?

Something more tangible
than questions, George.

If I were to tie your
hands behind your back,

where would the
knot of the rope be?

I suppose it would be on
the outside of my hands

facing you, sir.

Yes.

Yet when I untied Miss Tipton,

the knot was on the inside,
between her hands and her body.

And how would it get like that?

Miss Tipton tied
the knot herself.

In fact, she orchestrated
her own kidnapping.

And most likely
killed Kingsley Adams

and Veronica Williams.

And Mr. Ryder?

His fate's unknown.

How can we prove any of this?

George, how are
your telegraphy skills?

Sir, poor at best.

That'll do nicely.

Thank you, Detective.

And how are you
feeling, Miss Tipton?

Much better now.

I think if I could just go
home and rest, I'll be fine.

Of course.

Oh, my goodness.

- What is it, Mrs. Jones?
- A transmission.

- It's from Gabriel Ryder.
- Gabriel?

What's he saying?

It's difficult to make out.

It seems he's been hurt.

A-Attacked?

I can't quite understand.

Detective, I don't know
if I can listen to this.

Please, I-I'd... I'd
really like to go home.

Miss Tipton, I must
insist you remain here.

Ask him where he is.

Detective, I think
I'd rather go home.

Well, that would
be far too risky.

Then I'll go to my
brother's house.

Please, Detective,
I must insist.

He's not responding.

Very well, then. I'll have
a couple of constables...

No!

Miss Tipton.

I need to leave.

It's against my better judgment.

So that's where
you hid Mr. Ryder.

Thank you for leading me to him.

But how?

The telegraph can be
such a deceitful device.

Anyone can impersonate anyone.

Even a lowly constable

could become the dead
manager of a telegraph company.

And a lonely, bitter woman
can become a murderer.

When I realized that a
few kind words from A.K.

could open a
woman's change purse,

I thought to myself,
"Beth Tipton,

you don't need to be a telegraph
operator the rest of your life."

So you killed them.

You killed Kingsley
Adams, assumed his identity,

and continued to
exploit the other women.

But Miss Williams
found out, didn't she?

Ronnie became suspicious.

One day I found her going
through my transmissions.

And Mr. Ryder?

He was supposed to take
the blame, but you set him free.

So I thought of the kidnapping.

He was so easily
led into temptation.

I suppose he was to disappear,
never to be heard from again.

Maybe.

Or maybe he'd send you
another taunting message.

Just to prove he'd escaped.

That's the funny thing about
the telegraph, Detective.

You never really know who's
on the other end, do you?

Margaret.

Thomas.

Thank you for seeing me.

I know that I've been
ill-humored lately.

- Because of the drink.
- No, because of the Gold Cure!

You're making excuses, Thomas.

It's got cocaine in it, woman!

But you're right,
though. That's no excuse.

You're not exactly a walk
in the park, though, either,

not since this
Temperance League thing.

Why do you think I
joined the League?

Just to stop you from drinking?

Yes.

No. Truthfully,
I'm not quite sure.

Thomas, I wanted you
to listen to me again,

like before the children.

You don't even take me
to the theater anymore.

Well, you have my attention now.

I think a compromise
is in order.

I'll quit the Temperance
League if you'll quit drinking.

It's not like I'm coming
home late every night,

spending all hours down the pub.

Thomas.

If that's what you
want, I'll stop drinking.

Or... perhaps we could
consider moderation.

That might work.

And can I persuade you

to join me for "Romeo
and Juliet" next week?

I don't know.

Isn't that the one where
they both die in the end?

Yes, but only 'cause
they can't bear to be apart.

Thomas.

Oh. Here. Let me help you.

You've had a long day.

Thank you.

Alwyn will be waiting.

May I walk you home?

You've your work to finish.

Enid...

I'm sorry for what's happened.

There's nothing
to be sorry about.

This has been an
eye-opening experience for me.

And now I know
you a little bit better.

I see.

When can I see you again?

I just need a little
time to myself, William.

Oh. I'm interrupting.

No, no. I was just leaving.

- Good day, Dr. Ogden.
- Good day, Mrs. Jones.

I was just stopping by to drop
something off to the inspector,

to help with his
withdrawal symptoms.

Do you know where he is?

I have no idea.

Blue salvias.

From Mrs. Jones?

Yes.

"I think of you."

Pardon?

The meaning of blue
salvias... "I think of you."

Of course.

Good day, Detective.

Good day, Doctor.

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