Original subtitles

(indistinct chatter)

- Chairman Charles MacDonald has been laid to rest.

- But his estate remains unsettled.

- Ah. - And according to the papers,

it is sizeable.

- Yes. Evidently putting toasters and washing machines

in every home gives one money to burn.

- I wish I could warm my hands over that fire.

- You don't think working as a sketch artist

will allow your entrance into a Rosedale mansion?

(sighs) - Well, least I have

the "starving" in starving artist down pat.

So I have not...

finished it yet, but what do you think?

- Mm.

I think you shouldn't flash that around in public.

- But is it good? No, don't answer that.

- Oh, hello you two. - Ah.

- Staying out of trouble? - Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Crabtree.

- Oh, please, George and Effie.

- Effie and George.

(laughing)

- You know, I can't stop thinking about the fruit salad

our hostess served this morning. That was quite something.

- You can say that again.

There were foreign fruits I'd never seen before.

Yeah and she managed to stuff the mangoes

into the hollowed-out pineapples.

- She wouldn't have stuffed anything, George.

It would have been her staff.

Oh, Maria. Maria, cut the mangoes

into small pieces, into dainty bites, please.

My guests expect it. (chuckling)

- I'd have been satisfied with a plum.

Or even an apple!

- An apple? Well, you would have been shown the door

and forced to admit your humble beginnings.

Although I suppose a, an anecdote about

your colourful upbringing might have livened things up a bit.

Those guests were so dull.

- Still, I hope we get asked back.

- Why? - For the fruit salad!

And the quiche Lorraine.

- I could do with or without that quiche. And that hostess.

- She was all right. - She was such a fake.

She was born in Rainy River, Ontario,

not Buckingham Palace,

like she'd have you believe.

- Effie, look at that.

Is that blood?

They're bloody paw prints.

- George.

- Good Lord!

- That's Michael Hewitt!

What on Earth?

- I believe he's been mauled to death by his own dog.

(tense music)

(theme music)

- You knew Mr. Hewitt?

- A little. I saw him at Law Society events and the like.

- What can you tell me about him?

- Not much, I'm afraid.

He was a good lawyer. Well-connected.

- Right.

Given that these are nearby,

I'll assume that these were his latest cases.

- That would stand to reason.

- Could you assist me and have a quick look through them?

Perhaps one of them will offer up motive for this.

- Let me see what I can find.

(door opens)

- Miss Hart.

- He was hard at work on a Saturday afternoon.

Clearly didn't work himself to death.

- Miss Hart, would you agree that he's been mauled to death?

- Uh, mauled?

- Uh, there's evidence that a dog was present

at the time of Mr. Hewitt's murder.

- I grant you that while these scratches are unusual,

no dog killed him.

- How can you be sure of that?

- There's a single puncture to his jugular.

- He also appears to have suffered a blow to the head.

- Oh. Well, still, perhaps we should find the dog.

It might shed some light on what happened.

- George.

- Well, sir, you remember a few years back,

they used dogs to track Jack the Ripper.

They're very clever. - Yes. An experiment

that resulted in one of the dogs

attacking the police commissioner.

Oh.

Oh, what's this?

Believe this would be a more useful avenue of investigation.

Excuse me.

(indistinct background chatter)

- What's going on?

- Who might you be?

- Miss Wilma Fruling.

I own the salon next door. What happened here?

- I'm afraid the body of Mr. Hewitt

was found earlier today.

- How awful!

- Um, did you happen to hear anything unusual this morning?

- Well,

well, it was finally quiet around here, for one thing.

- Is it generally noisy?

- Hewitt's dog has been barking nonstop all week.

I was losing my mind.

- Hm.

And, uh, what time did the noise and barking eventually end?

- Um, half past nine, just as my wash and set arrived.

(Murdoch): Thank you, Miss Fruling.

Uh, pardon me, sir.

Toronto Constabulary. What's your business here?

- I am a partner at this firm. Christopher Landell.

And I would like to get into my office.

- I-I'm afraid that's not possible.

- And why not?

- Earlier this morning, my constable discovered

the body of Mr. Hewitt.

- Michael's dead?

- I'm afraid so.

We are now conducting a murder investigation.

Was your partner working on anything

that would put his life at risk?

- No, not that I know of, uh,

though I've been out of town at a conference

for several days.

- Um, what type of cases

does your firm work on?

- Nothing dangerous, if that's what you're asking.

Contract laws, wills, trusts.

May I ask what exactly happened?

- Admittedly at this point, we know very little,

save that Mr. Hewitt's dog was here at some point

and has since escaped.

- Michael didn't have a dog.

In fact, he-he hated dogs.

He wouldn't have been caught dead with...

Oh. I suppose he was.

(curious music)

(energetic music)

- What do you think you're doing?

- What business is that of yours?

- I am a morality officer with the Toronto Constabulary.

- And?

- And... you were creating a lewd image.

- I was trying to capture the male form.

- I don't give a whit.

I'm issuing you a fine.

- You'll have to catch me first.

- Stop! Failure to pay the fine results in conviction!

Ugh!

- And you're sure a dog didn't do it?

- It's highly unlikely.

- It's been known to happen.

I know from experience dogs can be quite vicious

if trained improperly.

- Miss Hart, what have you?

- Oh. The scratches on Mr. Hewitt's neck

were made by something uniform.

- Like a dog's paw.

- Like a small rake.

Puncture to the jugular was jagged and sharp.

- And what of the contusion to his forehead?

- Heavy impact by a blunt object.

- Hm.

- What are you up to now?

- I'm conducting a pH test on this white powder

that was found in Mr. Hewitt's office.

And the test has confirmed my suspicions.

It's talcum powder.

- Very good.

Although I must confess,

I was hoping for something a bit more impressive.

(door opens)

- Ah, Miss!

- What's going on in here?

- Toronto Constabulary. The-the-the office is closed.

- Where is Mr. Hewitt?

- I'm afraid Mr. Hewitt died unexpectedly just this morning.

I can't believe this. I saw him less than a week ago.

First Chairman MacDonald, and now Mr. Hewitt.

- You knew Chairman MacDonald?

- I am... I was his, his bookkeeper.

Uh, Mr. Hewitt was Chairman MacDonald's lawyer and executor.

- You wouldn't happen to be a Miss Sandler, would you?

- No, I'm Miss Vosper.

I'm simply here to pay Mr. Hewitt for his services.

- We can make sure that this makes it to his partner.

- This is terrible.

Thank you.

- Sorry for your loss.

(door opens and closes)

- So, Hewitt was the executor

to the estate of the richest man in Toronto.

- And now that MacDonald's dead, his fortune is in the wind.

- I'd best inform the Detective.

(buzzing)

- So, Mr. Hewitt is the executor of Chairman MacDonald's estate.

Have you found a will?

- Effie's not come across it yet.

- Right.

Miss Fruling, a word please?

- I'm with a client.

- And I am with the Toronto Constabulary.

- What can I do for you?

- Answer one simple question, please.

- Mm.

- Do you use talcum powder in your salon?

- Why? - Some was found

spilt on Mr. Hewitt's floor.

- Oh.

(exhales)

- Well, they didn't get it from here.

- Very good.

- Sir, have a look at this.

- What is it, George?

- A Miss Sandler had an appointment here

at eight o'clock this morning.

- And that's pertinent because?

- I found a calling card with the name Sandler on it

in Hewitt's office.

- Well, perhaps she's responsible

for the spilt talcum.

Let's bring her in.

- So sorry, but this is so terribly unexpected.

I didn't know him well yet, but I believed Mr. Hewitt and I

were destined to become close.

- Mm.

So, you called on him for what purpose?

- I met him last week by chance at the King Edward Hotel.

I sensed an attraction.

- Ah. So, you arranged a visit?

- I made an appointment at the salon next to his office

and used it as an excuse to drop by afterwards.

(chuckling)

- And was there... a connection?

- He acted like he barely remembered me.

- Oh.

- I was embarrassed, so I hurried out of there

and, in my haste, I dropped my pocketbook

and my talcum powder fell out,

and the dog made a beeline for it.

Mr. Hewitt tried to stop him and hit his head on the desk.

- Oh!

Oh!

Anything else?

- Yes.

He apologized for being distracted

but he said he was about to have a very difficult conversation.

- Did he say with whom? - No.

- Sir, Miss Hart's report said that the murder weapon

was most likely an animal grooming tool.

So, I had a look through this Eaton's catalogue

and, well, have a look at a couple of these, sir.

- Hm. That certainly looks like

it could have gotten the job done.

- I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of that.

- No.

- Ah, Effie. What have you?

- Mr. Hewitt's correspondence

with the late Chairman MacDonald.

It mentions the dog.

- The dog? What does the dog matter?

- Well, it matters plenty.

That dog is Toronto's newest millionaire.

(curious music)

- So we know the dog that was in Mr. Hewitt's office

belonged to Chairman MacDonald.

- Yes. Mr. Hewitt was minding him

while he amended Mr. MacDonald's will,

making the dog his sole heir.

- So whoever took the dog killed Hewitt.

- Possibly, George.

- It baffles me that a man with all that money

should have such little sense.

Leaving a fortune to a dog?

- Well, Inspector, dogs, unlike humans,

reserve no judgment or malice.

They're loyal to a fault.

- They do love unconditionally.

- No malice?

I've read that if a man were to die at home,

it would take his dog no less than 24 hours

to start devouring the remains.

And they typically start with the face.

- No. - Indeed.

Hm! Loyalty should afford one at least 48 hours

on the kitchen floor before becoming dog food.

(sighs)

- Sir, what would you have me do?

- Find the dog.

- You think he can help.

- No, I don't think he can-- - Charlie.

- I beg your pardon?

- The dog's name is Charlie, after his owner.

- Charlie.

- How's the likeness, Miss Sandler?

- It's the spitting image of the dog

in my dear Mr. Hewitt's office.

You are a very talented artist.

- Thank you.

And I'm so sorry for your loss.

- Oh. Mr. Hewitt and I weren't together, not...

not officially, but, but I know we were fated to be.

- Well, we appreciate you coming by

at such a difficult time.

- Uh, Constable.

- Thank you, Constable.

Thank you.

(crying)

- So what sort of mutt is this?

- The Havanese.

- From Cuba. They arrived on merchant ships

and became elite lap dogs to the wealthy,

so exclusive they couldn't be bought or sold,

only given as gifts.

- Priceless puppies and millionaire dogs?

Ha! It's ridiculous.

- Sir, if you don't mind me asking,

what exactly is your problem with dogs?

- When I first arrived in San Francisco,

a ferocious, feral dog attacked me on the streets.

I carry the scars with me to this day.

- May we see the scar?

- Of course.

(ominous music)

- Sir, the attack must have been harrowing.

- It was.

The Papillon is a breed not to be trifled with.

- Papillon? Those dogs are quite small,

no more than ten pounds.

- It's not the size of the dog in the fight, Detective.

(Choi scoffs)

- Ah, thank you, Miss Leeming. We'll make copies of this

and get them up all over town.

- My pleasure. (laughing)

- Well done.

Not the gallery opening you'd imagined,

but a showing on every post in our fair city.

- Good work, Detective. I tried to ticket her earlier,

but she escaped. What did you arrest her for?

- Arrest her?

Iona Berger, meet Olivia Leeming,

sketch artist for Station House Four.

Olivia is tasked with depicting suspects,

missing persons and, in this case, a dog.

- I don't care if you've taken over as Chief Constable.

You created a lewd drawing in public.

- A lewd drawing?

- The first ticket was for indecency. This one...

for evading an officer.

- Ah--!

- So, no sign of the will.

- Not so far.

- I was curious,

did any family members take issue

to Chairman MacDonald's will being amended?

- MacDonald had only one living relative,

a nephew, Howard.

He believed he was next in line for the fortune.

- Hm. What did your partner think of the changes?

- I don't know.

It's our job to fulfill our clients' requests,

as long as they're legal, of course.

- And, um, Howard MacDonald, uh, what was his reaction?

- Let's just say I would have liked to have seen the look

on his face when he found out who was getting the keys

to his castle.

- Uh, we don't know each other very well yet

but I want you to know I do understand

the challenges that go along with a position such as yours.

- Hm. I'm not so sure about that.

- In our business, each of us enforces the law

in ways peculiar to our personality.

- Uh, my personality has nothing to do

with how I perform my duties.

- For example, I tend to favour leniency

for first-time offenders...

like Miss Leeming.

- Not me.

- Ah, pretzel?

- Ah! From your pocket.

No thank you.

- Did you really need to ticket Miss Leeming?

Would you consider rescinding the tickets

and issuing a warning instead? She is one of us now.

- I am an officer of the law, and I caught her creating

an indecent picture.

It is my job to fine her.

- Well, isn't decency somewhat a matter of personal taste?

Is Michelangelo's David indecent because it represents the...

male anatomy?

- As I told Miss Leeming,

if it is on the streets of Toronto, then yes.

We must obey the law and none of us,

not even your friend Mr. Angelo, is above it.

With me.

- Are you happy now?

- How could I be happy when you're still here?

- Rest assured I will be back.

- Oh, I'm looking forward to that.

- Howard MacDonald? - Yes, that's me.

- Detective William Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

I'm investigating the murder of Mr. Michael Hewitt.

- I had nothing to do with that.

- He was in the process of amending your uncle's will

to reflect his final wishes. Did you know that?

- A dog took ten million dollars from me.

Yes, I knew about it.

- That dog is now missing.

Did you know that?

(scoffs)

- If you want to talk to anyone about that,

you can talk to Miss Bowerman, the woman who just left.

- Why would I want to do that?

- She owns a dog breeding business up in Mono Mills.

My uncle purchased that dog from her.

If you ask me, she is behind all of this.

- Oh. Go on.

- She had repeated visits with Mr. Hewitt in the days

before his death, and my uncle's staff tells me

she's now the dog's legal guardian.

- We have to make sure we also cover The Ward.

- There's no end to violations of city bylaws.

- Here's where our philosophies diverge.

- In what way? - Do you really believe

it's always in the best interest of the citizenry

to adhere to the letter of the law?

- Yes.

- But what about justice?

After all, that's the spirit of the law,

or at least it's meant to be.

Nobody should be without sustenance.

Hunger is a powerful motivator.

- True. But it should not be a motivator for theft.

- My approach is to turn a blind eye,

wait for an opportunity to help the boy.

- Turning a blind eye is not what you're being

paid for, Detective.

- Miss Bowerman, I-I'm Detective William Murdoch

of the Toronto Constabulary.

- What can I help you with?

- I'm looking into the circumstances

surrounding Michael Hewitt's death.

- A horrible tragedy. He was a lovely man.

But what does this have to do with me?

- Howard MacDonald believes you used undue influence

to convince his uncle to leave his entire estate to his dog

and to make you the dog's guardian.

(scoffs)

- That sounds like something Howard would believe.

- Well, it's not a completely unreasonable suspicion,

given that it would grant you access to the MacDonald fortune.

- I don't care about any fortune. I love Charlie,

as did the chairman.

- So his decision to leave his estate to his dog

was his alone?

- As God is my witness, I would never interfere

with any man's final wishes.

(barking)

(soft mysterious music)

- Isn't that a Havanese?

- Mm-hmm. Yes.

- Emma Bowerman, you are coming with me.

(barking)

- Well, perhaps you're right if following the rules

leads to this.

- The thief got away.

- Small price to pay for landing the catch of the day.

(barking) - And you say these dogs...

- I... may have spoken too soon.

- Oh.

Two of the same thing. (dog barks)

It's the Mona Lisa all over again.

- Where did that dog come from?

- I've been trying to tell you. That dog is Charlie!

- We owe his discovery to Miss Berger.

She was on the trail of a stolen sausage.

We caught the young thief trying to feed it to this dog.

- Mm-hmm.

This is Darcy.

He's Charlie's littermate and as poor as a church mouse.

And this one is Charlie.

You can tell by the way he carries himself

with a certain aplomb.

- They look the same.

And why should I believe you?

- Because I have proof.

Were you aware no two dogs noses are the same?

- I was not. - Mm-hmm.

As a breeder, I make impressions

before each puppy leaves my care. That's Charlie's.

- Ah!

Well, thank you, Miss Bowerman.

Um, but I do have a few more questions

before we get into comparing nose prints,

i-if you wouldn't mind.

- I am an open book, Detective.

- Uh, you visited Mr. Hewitt

several times in the week leading up to his death.

Why?

- I wanted to make sure

he had honoured the chairman's wishes and amended the will.

- And what did he tell you?

- He said he planned to, but that he was dealing

with a slight complication.

- What sort of complication?

- He wouldn't say.

- That must have been frustrating.

- Of course it was.

That's why I kept going back to see him

in the following days.

- Did any of these conversations become heated?

- Wait a minute.

I see what you're doing.

Are you accusing me of killing Mr. Hewitt?

- You had very strong motive and ample opportunity.

- Except I wasn't even in Toronto

the day Mr. Hewitt died. I was in Collingwood with Darcy.

- Shame Darcy can't corroborate that story.

- But he can.

The little champ was providing stud services

to a fellow breeder. We were there all night.

This is my train ticket.

- Hm.

- Nice and still, Watts. - Mm-hmm.

Hm... Mm.

- That should do it.

Right. Now, I've obtained a nose print from the bowl

that was found in Mr. Hewitt's office,

and we know that that is Charlie's

because it is a match for the nose print

on the reference that was given to us by Miss Bowerman.

- Hm. - Now...

let's see if this one

is also a match.

(curious music)

It's definitely a match. This is Charlie MacDonald.

- So the dog I found is the millionaire.

- The heir to the MacDonald fortune.

(dog barks)

- Charlie belongs to me, Detective.

- Without evidence of the will,

you are not their legal guardian yet.

- As much as I'd like to be rid of these mutts,

the detective is right, Miss Bowerman.

- These dogs are purebred.

I'd wager their parentage is less ambiguous

than some of the constables in your employ.

- Perhaps the dogs should stay and I should leave.

(barking)

- Mr. Landell. What have you?

- I found the will.

It was in one of the old safes that we rarely use.

- Hm. What does it say?

- It appears Miss Bowerman is right.

She is indeed the dog's legal guardian.

- Hm. I told you.

And the dog's name is Charlie, thank you very much.

Ooh. Ah! You get to sleep in your bed tonight at last.

(laughing)

- I'm afraid I can't allow that.

- Why in heavens not?

- Mr. Hewitt's killer is still at large and, as such,

the dog may still be a target.

We simply don't have the manpower to guard him,

or you, in a large Rosedale estate.

- The Detective's right.

Let me take you home.

You can see Charlie in the morning.

(sighs)

- Guard him with your life, Detective.

And don't forget to pet him.

Charlie likes his cuddles.

- Wait!

I made the front page? - Ah!

And you captured the soul

of little Charlie using only pencil.

Quite a remarkable feat.

(laughing)

- Thank you, Llewellyn.

- Don't thank me quite yet.

I was unable to convince

Miss Berger to rescind your tickets.

- Oh no.

- I'm afraid she will not back down.

I dare say she's like a dog with a bone.

- Please, Llewellyn, you have to try again.

I mean, she's taking every cent I've got.

- Ah. Miss Vosper.

- I heard from Mr. Landell that you found the will.

- Yes, we did indeed.

It turns out Mr. Hewitt made those amendments, after all.

- And have you made an arrest in Mr. Hewitt's murder?

- We haven't. We're still sorting through

all the evidence, but I've a feeling now

it's just a matter of time.

- I see. Well, then it's a good thing I've come.

I recalled something that may prove useful.

- Please, come this way. - Ah.

- Uh, Detective! You remember the chairman's bookkeeper,

Miss Vosper. She has something for us.

- Oh, yes, of course. Please, go ahead.

- A few months ago, I noticed some discrepancies

in Chairman MacDonald's expenses.

Someone was embezzling money from him.

- Oh! And did you tell the chairman?

- He was so ill, I didn't want to trouble him.

But I pointed my concerns out to Mr. Hewitt.

He suspected MacDonald's nephew.

- Howard MacDonald.

And did Mr. Hewitt speak with him?

- He told me that he was going to confront him.

- Right.

Very good.

Thank you for bringing this to our attention.

- Sir, that must be the conversation

Hewitt was nervous about. (barking)

- A confrontation with Howard MacDonald.

It certainly could be.

(barking)

- He does have quite an intelligent face,

doesn't he, sir?

- Hm. - And an amazing nose.

Perhaps he could help us sniff out the killer, sir.

(scoffs)

- George, have you lost faith in our abilities?

- No, sir, but think about it, working together.

Ah, the brain of a copper and the nose of a dog.

Oh! That would be an excellent idea.

Sir, will you write this down for me?

Uh-uh-uh...

The Constable and the Canine.

- George, no one's going to be interest--

The case, please. - Oh, right.

Sir, well, the first thing we need to do is take the lord

of the manor here out for a little walk.

He's yet to move his bowels, poor chap.

I wonder if all the trauma has him a little bunged up?

- Mm. Well, he did witness a murder, George.

Humans aren't the only mammals

to display physiological symptoms as a result of trauma.

- Charlie is used to me.

Allow me to take him for a stroll.

When one is too tense to...

it's often beneficial to walk until

the situation resolves naturally.

- Sounds like you're speaking from experience, Llewellyn.

- It's a excellent idea, Detective Watts.

Just don't let him out of your sight.

- Uh-huh. (barking)

- Did you know, sir, with baby tiger cubs,

to induce their first movement,

the mother has to lick their-- - Thank you, George.

(indistinct chatter)

- All right. Charlie.

Let's go.

Yes. Over here? All right.

Much better.

You need some privacy, or...

(barks) Yes.

There we go.

Feeling restrained. Maybe I'll take this off.

There you are.

Better? - Unleashing a dog

within five feet of food stalls is strictly prohibited.

- Ah, of course it is, Miss Berger.

- Did you not learn anything yesterday?

If you stick to the rules, then--

(gunshot) What was that?

(crowd screaming) - A gunshot.

He's after the dog. Take cover!

Stop right there!

(crowd clamouring)

(panting)

(grunting)

(Murdoch): You don't deny opening fire?

- What's the penalty for killing an animal, Detective?

- Uh, I confess I don't know. However--

- No matter what it is, with Charlie gone,

I would have inherited my uncle's money,

which is more than enough to hire

an unbeatable defense lawyer.

- Do you also confess to the murder of Mr. Hewitt?

- I had nothing to do with that.

- You were stealing from your uncle.

- That's a load of horse... manure.

And who told you that?

Let me guess. Mr. Landell?

- Why would you guess him?

- He was my uncle's lawyer 'til he showed his true colours.

- True colours?

- I caught him forging my uncle's signature

to expedite a bank draft.

He begged me not to tell the old man.

But my uncle was no dummy.

When I ratted Landell out, he said he suspected as much.

He had no use for a lawyer

who played loosey-goosey with the rules.

- What did your uncle do?

- He gave him the axe!

Put everything in Mr. Hewitt's hands.

Huh. Landell was furious.

- I'll be investigating this matter further.

In the meantime, you'll be charged

with the reckless use of a firearm.

- Ah, Detective.

Here is everything from Mr. Hewitt's office.

What is it you're looking for?

- Well, I believe the signature on Chairman MacDonald's

amended will is forged.

But I need a sample to compare it to.

- I think I may have seen...

Ah! Yes.

A letter signed by Chairman MacDonald.

- Very good.

Well, it's close, but ultimately,

the Ds are different.

- You think Mr. Landell could have forged it?

- Well, with Mr. Hewitt's death,

he does become the executor of the estate

and stands to benefit handsomely.

- I do have the key to the office.

(investigative music)

Well, lookie here.

- Perhaps we should consider hiring some taller constables.

- Hm.

- Mr. Landell, Toronto Police.

- Detective.

Uh, now isn't a good time.

(woman): Who is it, pookie?

- Pookie?

Miss Bowerman.

I wasn't aware the two of you were so... well acquainted.

- And what of it? We are entitled

to pursue a relationship if we so choose.

- Hm. You're about to lose

all of your entitlements, Mr. Landell.

- What is all this fuss about?

Do you have a problem with love, Detective?

- I have a problem with murder.

Christopher Landell, you are under arrest

for the murder of your partner, Michael Hewitt.

- I simply used Mr. Hewitt's notes to amend the will

to reflect Chairman MacDonald's exact wishes.

- And forging Chairman MacDonald's signature

entrusted guardianship of the dog

and its sizeable fortune to Miss Bowerman.

You are now romantically involved with her.

Did the two of you conspire to kill Mr. Hewitt?

- We didn't conspire to do anything.

Emma was not even in Toronto when Michael was killed,

and neither was I.

You were there! You saw me arrive.

(Landell sighs)

What's this?

- We've confirmed that blood residue on this grooming tool

is a match for Mr. Hewitt's blood type.

- So?

- It was found in your office.

- Well, then someone put it there.

I am being set up!

(indistinct background chatter)

- Detective!

I spoke to some witnesses.

It turns out Mr. Landell was indeed

at a conference in The Briars when Hewitt was killed.

- Huh.

So, Mr. Landell was telling the truth.

The murder weapon was planted.

Right. Um, Howard MacDonald

does have a good number of grooming tools in his stables.

- And a great deal to gain by planting a murder weapon.

- Oh! This is looking promising.

- Ah.

Ah, sir, we should, we should give him some space.

Nobody likes an audience. - Right.

(curious music)

(dog barks)

- Ah.

- Oh! Good boy!

George, there appears to be something in there.

- Sir, I think you're right.

(sighs)

Is that a key?

- A safety deposit box key?

- Sir, this is not the way I thought Charlie

would help our investigation.

- Yeah. (door opens)

- Uh, ma'am, nothing to see here. Move along.

- Police business.

- Some sort of business.

(knocking)

- What's all this?

- They're financial records belonging to Chairman MacDonald

and they were in a safe deposit box rented by Michael Hewitt.

- Hm.

Do they bring any clarity to Mr. Hewitt's murder?

- I don't know yet. - Oh.

- So I've asked Miss Vosper,

the chairman's accountant, to come in.

- So, follow the money?

(scoffs)

- You know, you're not the first person to say that to me.

- Hm.

- Now this is interesting.

- That's three times today. Well done.

Oh. Oh. (barking)

Looks like he likes you.

(chuckling)

- I haven't been around dogs much since I left home.

- Hm.

- When you broke the rules and had him off leash,

you ended up saving his life.

- True.

- I'm beginning to see your philosophy has a...

degree of merit.

- Plato argued justice is not merely about laws

or external systems,

but the harmony of the soul.

(soft music)

- Miss Vosper, I need your assistance

to confirm that we, indeed, have the documents required

to prove financial wrongdoing.

Um, bank drafts to pay for property in the Hebrides,

art purchases,

first-class round-trip tickets

on the Queen Mary

prior to the holidays.

- All justifiable expenses.

- Even though Chairman MacDonald

had been bedridden for over a year.

- Exactly. It was purchases like these that first roused

my suspicions.

Many of these bank drafts

are payments to places Howard MacDonald frequented,

according to the social papers, that is.

- Indeed. And that is why I believe--

Oh!

- Shoo, shoo, shoo. - Young man.

All right, young man, you had--

Oh!

Uh...

Seems you have dog hair stuck to your coat.

- What? (dog barking)

- Because there is also blood.

I've compared the hair that was stuck to your coat

to a sample taken from Charlie.

And they are a match.

- And what does that prove?

- That you killed Mr. Hewitt

and you stole Charlie. Didn't you, Miss Vosper?

- I did no such thing. That's absolutely preposterous.

- I had a look through the receipts

and there were some from a jewelry shop

that my wife used to frequent.

Here, take a look.

Here's one for diamond necklace.

Uh, I believe that's what you're wearing now, Miss Vosper.

- What, this? No, no. This is cut glass.

It's costume jewelry.

- Mm. I'm not so sure about that.

(scoffs)

We also confirmed that Howard MacDonald

had no access to his uncle's accounts.

You alone bore that responsibility.

- You don't know what you're talking about, Detective.

- I believe I do.

- Absolutely not, Miss Vosper. - Please, Mr. Hewitt.

(Murdoch): Mr. Hewitt became aware of your scheme.

And you had an argument.

No matter how you tried to justify your actions,

Mr. Hewitt had little interest in what you had to say.

- Absolutely, absolutely not.

- He had proof of your theft locked away

in the Bank of Toronto.

The dog's grooming comb was right there.

And you attacked him.

(gasping)

- What are you doing? Stop it!

- He tried to fight you off without hurting you,

but you showed no such mercy

as you delivered the fatal blow.

(gasping)

(thudding)

(dog whining)

(sniffing)

- Come here, come here.

Give me the key. Give me the key. Come on!

No, no, no, no, no.

No.

No.

The money I took was already spent.

Why did he try and stop me? I just wanted the records

and then the damn dog took the key.

- You'd killed Mr. Hewitt.

Why did you not also kill Charlie?

- I'm not a monster, Detective.

Killing a man is easy enough,

but what kind of a woman would kill a defenceless dog?

- It hasn't been nearly as disruptive as I'd imagined.

- I have a feeling that is high praise coming from you,

Detective Murdoch.

Charlie. At last!

- Even though no signed will has been found,

Mrs. Crabtree has found signed letters

from Chairman MacDonald articulating his final wishes.

She believes that that will be enough to convince the judge.

- And Howard's attempted murder of poor Charlie here

hardly puts him in good stead to be the dog's guardian.

- Nevertheless, Charlie will make sure

that Howard is well taken care of.

That's just the kind of animal he is.

And I plan to give you all the love you deserve.

- Speaking of love, what are your plans now?

I mean, do you plan to stay in Toronto for good?

Have you made peace with Mr. Landell

after everything he's done?

- Lots of questions, Constable.

But I don't mind sharing the good news.

Mr. Landell and I are to be married.

- Oh!

He's been charged with fraud. He'll be disbarred.

- I believe he forged the will with the best intentions.

He never doubted us.

Charlie and I are willing to take what comes.

(curious music)

- Oh.

Oh, we're all headed to the Starbright, Miss Berger.

Would you like to join us?

- I hardly think that would be appropriate, Detective.

Mixed company. A drinking establishment.

Do you really think someone in my position should act so...

recklessly?

- If you change your mind.

- Miss Berger.

- Miss Leeming.

- Detective Watts?

- You just missed him.

- Oh. - Oh, wait!

I think we got off on the wrong foot.

We're both working women, after all.

- So you understand the challenges

that come along with that.

- I am willing to rescind the tickets I issued

on one condition.

- Name it.

- You give me the original sketch you made of Charlie.

- I wasn't expecting this.

(clears throat)

- Hm.

This is going to make my bedsit feel more like home.

But could I have another look at that other drawing?

I-is this a nude drawing of Detective Watts?

- That it is.

- And is this an, um...

(clears throat)

An accurate depiction?

(soft music)

- I wouldn't know. I took artistic liberty, of course.

A still portrait hardly captures the essence

of Llewellyn's... gesticulations,

but I think it's rather flattering.

(Leeming chuckles)

- I would have to agree.

(theme music)

Subtitling: difuze