Original subtitles

(intriguing music)

- Dr. Newsome,

you�re standing trial in the murder of your wife,

Lucinda Helmsworthy-Newsome.

You�ve entered a plea of not guilty.

Will you be acting in your own defence?

- Yes, Your Honour.

I am confident that this is but a teensy misunderstanding,

a soup�on of confusion, if you like.

The truth will come presently to light

and we�ll all be home by lunchtime.

- Very well. The Crown may proceed with its case.

- Why aren�t you representing him?

- He�s eschewed representation. - Oh, bless you.

- He refused.

- Why not just say that then?

You always have to be so high and mighty.

- The Crown calls Dr. Rupert Newsome.

- Dr. Newsome, you are not compelled

to testify in your own trial.

- Oh, pshaw. All the quicker to set the record straight.

Oh! I promise to tell the truth,

so help me God, and all that other business.

- Dr. Newsome,

please inform the court what you were doing

in the hours that led up

to Mrs. Helmsworthy-Newsome�s death.

- Ah, yes. Uh, we were celebrating

Ruthie and Henry�s anniversary.

Ah, Lucy was in one of her moods, but the food?

The food was divine.

(indistinct chatter)

(soft opera music)

- The next course is tartare.

Savourez, s�il vous pla�t.

- What took so long?

- Je suis d�sol�, madame.

- Mm.

(man inhaling deeply)

Mm.

(woman giggling)

- Oh, oh, oh. Bucky,

look at my new walking stick.

Both the eyes are real rubies.

Ha! You-you wouldn�t believe the price.

- Magnificent thing.

If you�re not careful, I�ll steal it from you.

- Naughty. (laughing)

- Whatever have you done to your moustaches, Newsome?

- Leave him be, won�t you?

- The times have changed since you�ve been in prison, Bernie.

This style is all the rage now.

- It looks as though your lip has grown an eyebrow.

(laughing)

(nasally laughter)

(Rupert): That�s how he laughs. - Hm.

- Gentlemen of the jury, picture me with thin moustaches.

I looked a marvel.

- Dr. Newsome,

what were you doing after the party?

- Oh, right. Um...

everyone went home �round nine.

I took a brandy by the fire.

Lucinda had gone upstairs to prepare for bed,

and then I heard the most terrible sound.

(thud) (woman shouts): No!

(woman screaming)

(thudding)

(tense music)

- You killed my sister!

- No, I didn�t!

- Order! - Bernie, I didn�t!

- Court officers, please.

Remove Mr. Helmsworthy.

- Ah, bosh. You�ll hang for this, Newsome!

Get your soiled hands off. I�m a free man.

You�ll hang for this!

- Dr. Newsome, if we can return to your account

of the night in question.

You were alone in the house when your wife died?

- Yes. - After the last of the guests

departed at nine o�clock, no one else was in the house?

- Uh... uh, no. No one.

- The Crown submits these photographs

taken the afternoon before the murder.

This is you, Dr. Newsome,

posing with your walking stick?

- Yes. And, uh, gentlemen,

note the thin moustaches.

- And where�s that walking stick now?

- Well, I haven�t any idea.

I left it in the hallway that evening,

but then I was arrested and, well...

(chuckling) Clearly I haven�t seen it since.

- The Crown submits further photographs taken post-mortem.

They show the lacerations

on Mrs. Helmsworthy-Newsome�s head.

- I can�t bear to look at those.

- Forensic experts would testify that

though her neck was broken in the fall,

these lacerations were suffered prior,

inflicted by blows from a weapon in the upstairs hallway.

That�s where the attack began,

driving Mrs. Helmsworthy-Newsome towards the staircase

where, fleeing her attacker,

she fell to her death.

Can you explain these lacerations, Dr. Newsome?

Can you explain the blood splatters in the hallway?

(tense music)

No. You cannot.

Nor can you explain the fact

that the murder weapon left behind

a piece of evidence caught in the victim�s hair.

A ruby.

- N-no.

- A perfect match

from Dr. Newsome�s missing walking stick.

(crowd murmuring)

(theme music)

- I�m doomed, aren�t I? Effie, you have to help me.

- Shh! (whispering): I�m sorry!

- You�ve elected to represent yourself.

You�re meant to be using the law library to build your defence.

- I don�t know what I�m doing!

- Well, if I were your lawyer,

I would advise you to change your plea.

- But I�m innocent.

You know that, don�t you?

You think I did it!

- Shh!

(whispering): I�m sorry!

- Rupert, can you explain the blood in the hallway?

(Rupert sighs)

The ruby from your walking stick?

- No. I can�t.

- Well, Rupert, you have to at least consider a guilty plea.

We can file appeals and lobby to have you released.

It worked for Bernard; he only served six years.

I know it�s terrible, but it�s a terrible situation

and you don�t exactly have another choice.

(tense music)

Rupert?

Guards, did you see where he went?

(Effie): I don�t understand.

There�s nowhere he could have gone.

- A trapdoor in the floor?

- I checked. Nothing.

(intriguing music)

No, he couldn�t have fit in there.

And, besides, it only went from here to there.

It never went out the door.

- This cart travelled from here to there

at that precise moment?

- Yes.

- Well, then, perhaps it didn�t need to leave the room at all.

Um...

If you, eventually, made your way to here

and the cart was moving from here,

Mr. Newsome could have crouched down

and been obscured from this guard,

travelled along this direction with the cart,

and then hidden from this guard.

And then travelled this direction, hidden from you.

(vehicle whirring)

This window is unlatched.

- Uh-huh.

Henry! What�s-what�s going on?

- Well, it�s Rupert, dear. He�s escaped.

- What?! - I was meeting with him

at the law library and he managed to slip out the window.

- Oh. Very good.

Where is he now?

- I didn�t help him.

- Oh, well, no! H-he won�t say anything. No.

Darling, we really should be going.

We have to be at the estate for the reading

of Lucinda�s will. - Yes.

- Wait. Henry, look.

(mysterious music)

- Hm. Oh!

Oh, this is... this is Rupert�s barbershop.

- I�ll fetch the detective.

Uh, Ruthie. - Oh.

- I�ll see you at the estate later.

- Hm.

Must dash. Best of luck.

(door closes)

- Hello?

Anyone here?

(muffled shouting, thudding)

It�s all right. Police.

- It was Rupert Newsome. The man�s gone mad!

Tied me up and put me in my own-

- Okay. Calm down. Have a seat.

Start at the beginning.

What time did Rupert arrive?

- Just after nine o�clock.

- That�s just after he escaped.

- A-and what happened when he arrived?

- I shaved his beard.

Then he grabbed hold of a straight razor,

bundled me in the water closet, and tied me up!

- Was there anyone else here? - No, sir.

My next appointment never arrived.

I have a standing client at 9:15 every Tuesday.

- Who? - Bucky Featherstonhaugh.

- The Featherstonhaughs?

Th-they live next to the Newsome estate.

- And, sir, Bucky is Rupert�s best friend.

- And now for the reading

of Lucinda Helmsworthy-Newsome�s will.

- Oh. Phew. This is it.

- Oh, we�ll be all right, Ruthie. I�m sure she left

Rupert something, and he�ll take care of us.

- To my brother, Bernard Helmsworthy...

- That�s me. - ...who loves our horses

as much as I, I leave the stables,

the thoroughbreds,

and the sum of $40,000 for their care.

That�s everything.

- What?

What does that mean? What-what about the estate?

- Well, it goes to Mrs. Helmsworthy-Newsome�s

next of kin.

- Ah! Her brother. Moi.

- No. Her husband.

- We�re rich! - Oh.

(laughing)

- Oh.

(clears throat)

- I never saw him.

- We know you picked up Mr. Newsome at the barbershop,

Mr. Featherstonhaugh.

- Picked him up?

He barrelled his way into my carriage

and held a razor to my neck.

He nearly cut me.

- Are you then saying that you didn�t abet

Mr. Newsome in his escape?

- Bet him what?

- I beg your pardon?

- I didn�t have a bet with Newsome.

- No, not a bet, abet.

- My good man, are you quite all right?

- What did he say to you when he got into your carriage?

- Uh, he told me to bring him to my home.

I refused, huh. Of course. (chuckles)

But then he said it again, so I assented.

But when we arrived, I refused to allow him in.

- Right. Where did he go then?

- To the boathouse. He has likely sailed

halfway across Lake Ontario by now.

- That�s what he told you to say.

- Yes. (chuckling)

Ah, ah, hm...

- Where did he actually go?

(sighs) - East, across the acreage.

- The property to the east is the Newsome estate.

- Right. The constables are likely there already.

Let�s retrace his steps.

(Effie sighs)

- Uh...

(curious music)

(distant horse neighing)

- Sir!

Sir.

Toronto Constabulary.

- What can I do for you?

- You work here at the Newsome estate?

- I keep the stables.

- Did you happen to see Rupert Newsome here?

- Isn�t he in jail? (Effie): He�s escaped.

- Huh. I saw someone crossing the fields earlier,

taking just the route you are now.

Never crossed my mind it�d be Mr. Newsome.

- You didn�t see his face? - No, ma�am.

That was quite a distance.

- And which direction was he going?

- Towards the main house.

- Sir, this is mad.

Lucinda had an appointment to transfer half the estate

to myself. It was what Dadah wanted

as soon as I was released from prison.

- When was this appointment? - Next week.

- Then it didn�t happen?

- Well, no. She died.

- Upon her death, everything falls to the estate.

The estate follows her will.

- Yes, we have to do more.

- I�m sorry, Mr. Helmsworthy.

- Uh, I wouldn�t even know what to do with that money.

- Oh, I do! A mink, dresses, jewels, shoes.

- Ruth,

Henry,

be reasonable.

- Hm.

What do you think, Henry?

- Well, we could give him a share.

- No, that doesn�t sound like something I would do.

- Half the estate was intended to be mine.

It was the wish of dear departed Lucinda

and the wish of dear departed Dadah.

- About that.

Dear departed Dadah promised me that sculpture, remember?

But then dear departed Dadah died

and dear departed Lucinda refused to give it to me. Hm.

- So, what of it? You�ve already stolen it.

- I did no such thing! (knocking at door)

- Pardon the interruption.

Henry, have you seen Rupert Newsome?

- Here? Wha-what would Rupert be doing here?

- A witness may have seen him crossing from

the Featherstonhaugh estate to the house.

- No, he hasn�t been here.

- Pardonnez-moi. Someone was in my kitchen.

(mysterious music)

Now, this door is always locked.

We were told the lock is jammed and cannot be used.

(mysterious music continues)

- Well, the lock is jammed, but it�s jammed open.

This cannot be locked.

- Stands to reason that Rupert would have known about that,

given that it�s his house.

But what was he doing sneaking into his own kitchen?

- What�s this?

- Cocoa?

- Hm.

Was Rupert pointing us in this direction?

- A servants� staircase?

- I had no idea that this was there.

- Shall we?

- Leads to the upstairs hallway.

- This is where the killer struck Lucinda Helmsworthy

with the walking stick. These are the blood spatters.

- She was driven down the hallway, this way,

to the main stairwell, the end of the hall.

- Is Rupert trying to show us how someone else

may have entered the house that night?

- He�s trying to prove his innocence.

- Murdoch. Where�s Newsome?

It�s all over the papers. We look like fools.

- Well, sir, we have not found him as yet,

but he was at the Newsome estate.

Constables are still there searching for clues.

- What was Newsome thinking, anyway?

- I believe he�s trying to prove his innocence.

- Everyone knows he did it.

He�s just run off to make up new evidence

to try and sully the case.

- History does suggest

Rupert Newsome cannot be trusted.

- Detective.

They�ve found something at the Newsome estate.

- I come bearing a deeper understanding of our, uh,

shall we say, impasse.

- What? - I assume you�re familiar

with criminal forfeiture?

- Why would you assume that?

- It�s an established and immutable part

of our jus commune.

It states that a criminal cannot profit from his crimes.

(scoffs) - So, what of it?

I�ve done nothing wrong. - No, no. But your brother has.

And if he is convicted of killing my sister,

he will get nothing.

Ergo, ipso facto,

prima facie you will get nothing.

- No!

No. No, no, no. That-that can�t be right.

- Ah, but it tis. It is.

Everything is mine,

including that sculpture that you stole,

which I insist you return at once.

- Ah.

(playful music)

- Constables found it just over here by the summer house, sir.

- Rupert�s prison clothes.

- So he was here. Could he be hiding inside?

- He may have been, but there�s no sign of him now.

The lads are searching the grounds again.

- We found a fresh patch of oil and tire tracks

on the road down below.

Rupert may have driven off the estate.

I�ll speak with the staff to see if any of the autos are missing.

- Right.

(panting) - Effie, there you are.

What is all this nonsense about, uh, criminal forfeiture?

- I beg your pardon?

- Well, they�re saying Rupert gets nothing,

but the will states he�s to get everything.

- Well, obviously, he wouldn�t inherit anything

if he murdered the testatrix.

- Well, he didn�t murder one of those.

- His wife! He can�t have her money if he killed her!

- But that�s not fair! - Yes, it is!

- Don�t worry, Ruthie. We�ll find Rupert

and we�ll prove his innocence.

- Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

We�ll, uh, "prove" his "innocence."

- What? What do you mean, dear?

- Well, only that a jury could be encouraged

to find him innocent if we provide a little...

(soft mysterious music)

(birds chirping)

- Rupert?

Ahh!

- Hello.

I took the motor oil out of the auto stables

and spilled it on the ground.

- Well, that was awfully clever.

- I am clever, Effie. I just don�t feel the need

to show it off all the time.

Anyway, as soon as they find there�s no car missing,

I am going back to jail.

- No, you�re going back to jail now!

- Oh, no, please, Effie. I�m innocent.

- So you snuck into the house just to show that somebody else

could do it? Why not just bring it up at trial?

- Well, I-I-I may not have been entirely truthful on the stand.

- Rupert, what really happened that night?

- Well, most of what I said was true.

After the party, Lucy and I were alone.

- Come to bed, Perty.

- In a moment, dear.

- Don�t tarry too long.

I have the most wondrous joke to tell you.

- What was the joke? - I haven�t any idea.

You see, I never joined her upstairs.

After a moment, I heard something.

(Lucinda): No!

(Effie): Yes, terrible sound from the staircase.

(Rupert): No,

the old kitchen door. (door opens)

Hm. I knew what that meant.

Lucinda had a visitor. I was to wait downstairs.

(Effie): Who was the visitor?

- Well, the killer, presumably.

Ah-ah, initially, of course, I assumed it was Bucky.

- Bucky Featherstonhaugh? - Well, yes.

Bucky and Lucinda had been carrying on an affair

for some months. She jammed the lock

on the old kitchen door and reopened

the disused servants� staircase

so he could enter unnoticed...

(whispering): ...and do unto her his carnal labours.

- And you knew about this? - Oh! Yes!

Ha. Lucinda and I had an arrangement.

She could get lucky with Bucky

and I was free to enjoy the pleasure of her contentment.

You can see why I could not bring this up on the stand.

It would cast shame upon Lucinda�s memory.

- And it would give you a motive.

- Oh. Yes, I suppose it would.

- So, Bucky killed Lucinda?

- No. No, no. Effie,

I confronted Bucky straight away upon my escape.

He said he didn�t do it. - And you believed him?

- Effie, he�s my top chum.

- He was sleeping with your wife!

- Well, somebody had to!

You don�t understand.

Bucky was at home that night

emptying himself into the latrine

after being made sick by that awful tartare

that Lucy insisted on serving.

- So, somebody else entered the kitchen door that night.

And whoever it was killed Lucinda.

But-but how did the killer get ahold of your walking stick?

- I don�t know. I left it in the hallway.

- Listen, Rupert, we will find whoever killed Lucinda,

but I have to return you to jail.

- Oh, oh, no, no, no, no. Please.

No! No, you can�t. Look. Look.

I received it in prison. I don�t know who sent it.

(tense music)

- "You are not getting out of this alive."

- It�s a threat.

- I�m aware.

- Please, Effie Shpeffie,

you have to keep me safe until we catch him.

Please.

- Lucinda was having an affair

and Rupert wrote you an entire account

of his innocence and placed it in your postbox?

- Yes.

- With no indication of where he might be hiding?

- I�m afraid not.

- Right, then.

If that is the case,

then according to Rupert, whoever came through

the kitchen door that night is the murderer.

And his assertion that Bucky Featherstonhaugh�s

innocent is suspect at best.

- The tartare did seem off.

And Lucinda was displeased with just about everyone that day.

- Anyone in particular?

- I did see her having a row with her stablehand.

- Mr. Slattery,

why was Mrs. Helmsworthy upset with you

on the night of her murder?

- I�d told her one of the horses got loose.

Couldn�t find him anywhere.

She dressed me down, but it wasn�t my fault.

The gate was broken.

- And where were you after the party?

- I was out with Mr. Helmsworthy looking for the horse.

- That�s right. We were searching all night.

I still have no idea what happened to that poor animal.

- I understand Mrs. Helmsworthy

was quite displeased with you that evening.

- Lucy? Scarcely.

She said I was being too hard on Rupert,

as if he didn�t deserve all that he got, but, uh,

mostly she was cross with Ruth

about that damnable sculpture.

- Her own father promised me that sculpture on his deathbed.

- Hm. I thought you said he promised it to you

during the hunt. - You sound just like her.

What does it matter? He promised it to me.

- Where were you after the party?

(Higgins): We went home shortly before nine.

- Oh, but, uh, but I did see Lucinda excoriating the chef.

Probably because the tartare was inedible.

- Oh, really? I quite liked it.

- She kept asking, "Where is the tartare?

Is it ready? Is it ready?"

I told her to close her mouth.

Horrible woman.

- She�s dead, Mr. Debussy.

- Ah. Yes.

- Where were you after the party?

- In my quarters. Asleep.

- Was anyone else with you?

- No.

- Chef Debussy has no alibi for the time of the murder.

He claims he�s never been upstairs here

where the murder took place and that he had

no prior knowledge of the servants� staircase

that leads here.

- So, if we find his fingermarks,

we�ll know he�s lying.

Henry?

- Hm? Yes?

- Is there something in that dumbwaiter?

- No, there isn�t.

- Can I see?

- Oh, is there something in the dumbwaiter?

- Mm.

- Yes, there is.

- Detective?

I think we may have found our sculpture.

- Your fingermarks were found all over

the servants� staircase

and in the hallway where Mrs. Helmsworthy was killed,

both places you claimed you had not been.

- Is that so?

- Yes.

I believe you snuck into the home

in order to steal this... item.

Mrs. Helmsworthy caught you, and you murdered her.

- I went back to the house that night

to retrieve my sculpture.

Lucinda refused to give it to me,

so I just took matters into my own hands.

Rupert told me about Bucky�s secret entrance,

which led me right to where Lucinda kept my statue.

Once I got it,

I heard someone coming up the main stairs.

I was worried about being caught with it,

so I stashed him

in the hopes that I would...

come back and retrieve him.

Probably should have made a run for it.

- Who was coming up the main staircase?

- I heard Lucinda say,

"What are you doing here?"

But I was halfway out the door, so I didn�t see anybody.

I didn�t kill Lucinda.

I don�t know who did.

- If it wasn�t Ruth Newsome, then who was it?

- She may be lying.

According to her story,

the killer came up the main staircase.

If so, Rupert Newsome would have seen him.

- One of them is wrong. - Or lying.

Higgins. What�re you hanging around for?

- Waiting for word about my wife, sir.

- We should lock you up with her.

Did you really think you could hide this thing?

- Terribly sorry, sir. I panicked.

I know Ruth would never actually hurt anyone.

- Take her home.

One more cock-up and you�re off the job.

- Thank you, sir.

- If he�s hiding anything about Newsome, I�ll hang him myself.

(curious music)

- Don�t worry, Ruthie, we still have some money.

You�re a moving picture star.

- I�m a working actor, Henry.

One cannot survive on the wages of a working actor.

- Hm. Well, perhaps Rupert will be found not guilty

and we�ll still be rich.

- Yes, and perhaps you could arrange that.

- We are not bribing the jury, darling.

- No, no, of course not. No. But you as a police, um, uh...

- Constable. - Yes, you as a police constable,

you could arrest someone else for murder.

Like, um, like him.

- Want me to arrest an innocent person for murder?

- No. No, no, no. No, you misunderstand me, no.

I am suggesting that instead of Rupert,

you arrest someone that nobody cares about.

- I�m sure there are people that care about that man, dear.

- Well, not him, then! Get one of those people

that�s just sort of around, you know? Not a real person.

Oh, him! Or, um...

Oh, no, him! Him, him, him. - Hm?

- They are all real people, dear.

- Someone else. Whoever!

(sighs) - Dear, I cannot just simply

arrest an innocent person off the streets.

- Ah, I�m not suggesting that!

My God, Henry, you really are impossible.

- Miss Newsome.

- Detective!

I was just here to check on something.

- Hm. Not hiding the fact

that Rupert Newsome is inside this lodging?

- How did you know? - That letter was odd.

And your reaction to the Chief Constable

threatening to punish anyone aiding Rupert Newsome

was palpable. - Let me explain-

- You have been aiding an escaped prisoner.

I highly doubt you have a very good explanation.

- I intended to turn him in, but-

(thudding, shouting)

What was that?

- Toronto Constabulary! Stop!

(gasping)

(coughing) - Rupert!

(hoarse): Did he rip my neckerchief?

(panting)

(tense music)

- Stop!

(mysterious music)

Who was that man?

- I don�t know.

But the hands around my throat suggest maybe the killer.

- He received a threat while he was in jail.

That�s why I allowed him to stay here.

I feared for his safety.

- That was not your decision to make.

You�ll be returned to custody.

But, first, your sister said the killer came up

the main stairs, which means you would have seen him.

- Oh. Well,

perhaps there is a teensy detail I may have left out.

- Rupert. What happened?!

- Oh. As I said, I was in the sitting room

when I heard the kitchen door open.

(door opens)

Instead of simply waiting there

for the duration of the romantic interlude,

I slipped out of the house for a few moments.

- Where did you go? - I came here,

to the summer house.

I wanted to play Little Wars.

Bucky, Bucky and I have an ongoing battle.

Pew-pew.

- You and Bucky were here together?

- No, no, no, no. I thought he was with Lucinda,

but in fact

he was home sick with the tartare.

I was here alone.

- I�ve read H.G. Wells� book about Little Wars.

I�ve played with my son.

The game is a two-person game, at minimum,

which means if you were here alone you were cheating.

- How dare you! - Rupert, you�ve deliberately

withheld information about an ongoing murder investigation,

a murder for which you may very well hang

because you were ashamed you cheated at some silly game?

- How dare you, madam.

How dare you. Pew.

- Mr. Newsome,

recount for me, please,

precisely your movements

after you left the sitting room.

- Oof! Well, I...

I was here for no more than ten minutes.

I left to return to the main house.

(distant chatter)

(Rupert): But Lucinda�s companion

had not yet left.

She was talking to a man, but I couldn�t

make out his voice. I heard Lucinda say...

(Lucina): Casanova!

- Casanova.

- Casanova?

- Mm-mm. Something about Casanova.

At the time, I assumed she was referring to Bucky,

but perhaps it was another paramour.

- Did you hear anything else?

- Oh... oh, y-yes!

Something about dinner:

"You like it." "Yummy." "Delicious."

She laughed.

That was the last thing I heard, her sweet laughter...

Ah-ha-ha!

Ah-ha!

Ringing out across the grounds.

- Did you return to the main house at any point?

- Well, I assumed she and Bucky had not

finished their rendezvous, so I returned here

and, uh, moved a cannon to the Western Front.

By the time I returned...

She was dead.

Pew.

- Right. Let�s go.

- Well, where are you taking me, Detective?

- Uh, you will be held in the cells

at Station House Number Four for your protection

until you stand trial.

- What are we going to do? We have to prove his innocence.

- You are no longer part of this investigation, Miss Newsome.

- Thank you for apprehending the fugitive, Detective.

The trial will resume tomorrow.

- And the Crown is confident in the accused�s guilt?

- Of course. The evidence is clear.

No one else was in the house.

- He doesn�t think Newsome did it.

- Please, excuse my incredulity.

That man is as good as hanged. Gentlemen.

- You�re putting a lot of faith in the word of Rupert Newsome.

The police searched the whole house after that night

and found nothing.

- Nothing about the murder.

But perhaps they missed something

about who else was there that night.

- Oh, uh, Henry. Um, did you find anything

that could exonerate Rupert?

- Not yet.

(sighs)

Oh my God.

- What?

Get rid of it. - I can�t do that.

- Well, do not tell the police!

- I am the police!

- No, I mean, don�t tell the real police.

- Detective!

There�s something in here you need to see.

- Oh, my. - Yes, he�s very strong.

- That�s the murder weapon.

Well done, Henry.

What�s this?

- I spoke to the Chief Constable.

These are files of cases in which you

, Detective Murdoch,

deliberately withheld knowledge

from other investigating parties.

- If I did, I did so with good reason.

- As did I.

I was protecting my family.

I regret lying to you, Detective,

because I admire and respect you,

but I would do the same again.

Can you honestly say that you wouldn�t?

- I found it odd that constables

searched the sitting room multiple times after the murder

and never found this murder weapon.

- Yes. It is odd.

- I�ve checked and it�s been wiped clean of all fingermarks,

but I did get an interesting scraping

from the jewel-encrusted snake�s head.

- What did you find?

- Horse dung.

(birds chirping)

Gloves and a dark mask,

the same as those worn by the man

who attacked Rupert Newsome.

- It was the stablehand,

Mr. Slattery. W-we need to find him.

- Ruth, you have to speak to me, please. I had no choice.

Anyway, it�s out of our hands now.

Either he�s guilty, or he�s innocent.

- Obviously he�s guilty.

- Well, imagine that I had hidden the evidence, then,

and Rupert was acquitted.

We would be rich off the proceeds of a murder.

How could we live with ourselves?

- What kind of a question is that?

We would live!

We would live and Rupert would be there,

and when we saw him, we would envision him

covered in Lucinda�s blood, and we would ignore this,

and everything would be fine.

- Dear,

I know you don�t believe that.

- Why do you have to be right all the time?

- Come on, let�s go home.

There�s nothing else we can do now.

- Yes, there is.

- Rue-Rue...

What do you mean, dear?

- Please?

Please. Please. Please, please, please.

- Get up, woman. You�re an embarrassment.

- Bernard, um...

couldn�t you give us just a teensy,

little bit of the fortune?

We would be indebted to you and you could torture us,

or-or ridicule us,

just like your sister always loved to do so, so much.

- I never understood why Lucy married Rupert.

She hated the Newsomes. But me?

I don�t care about you at all.

You will leave this place

and I will never think about you again,

except, of course, when I�m celebrated

as the man who finally rid Mimico of the Mimico Newsome.

(laughing)

- You were wearing this mask and these gloves

when you attacked Rupert Newsome in the summer house.

- I was. But I didn�t kill anyone.

- Hm.

The murder weapon was discovered earlier today

in the sitting room.

It had traces of horse dung on it,

indicating to me that it was being kept in the stables

and was then planted in the sitting room by you.

- Yes. But I didn�t do the killing.

- Then how did you end up with the murder weapon?

- I found it in some bushes near the main house

a couple days later.

- So why plant it now?

- When you policemen started coming around,

I got worried.

Maybe you weren�t sure Mr. Newsome had done it.

And, well, I had the proof.

- So you want Rupert Newsome to be found guilty.

- If he gets away with it, he gets everything.

The estate, all the money,

and Mr. Helmsworthy won�t get a thin dime.

- What does that matter to you?

- I�m not just a stablehand. We�re business partners.

- Ah!

How so?

- We had this idea: thoroughbred racing.

With my know-how and his money, we could make a killing.

- You threatened to kill Rupert Newsome,

you planted evidence against him,

you tried to kill him.

Why should I believe that you are not the one

who killed Lucinda Helmsworthy

in order to secure her fortune for her brother?

- She was giving him half the fortune, anyway.

I told you already.

I was out all night looking for Casanova.

- I beg your pardon?

- I was looking for Casanova,

Mr. Helmsworthy�s horse.

- Why would I kill my own, dear sister?

For money?

Money that would have been given to me legally

had she lived long enough to visit with our lawyer.

- No, Mr. Helmsworthy.

But we do believe that you were the man

who entered the home via the main staircase

moments before the murder.

(Lucinda): What are you doing here?

- Even if it was me, so what?

- You discussed Casanova,

your beloved horse, which she set free

and that infuriated you.

- Why would she do such a thing?

- Because she�d had enough of you ridiculing her husband.

- Whatever have you done to your moustaches, Newsome?

- Leave him be. (laughing)

- It was payback.

She had set your horse free,

knowing that that would hurt you

more than anything in the world.

- But she didn�t just let him loose, did she?

Casanova was her grand joke.

When she said "You liked it,"

that�s what she was referring to.

Casanova was delicious.

- Mm.

(Effie): She made your horse into a tartare

and served it to you on a silver platter.

- You had no idea.

When you saw her later that night,

she told you

and laughed in your face.

You grabbed the nearest weapon at hand.

- No!

(Murdoch): You lashed out.

(thuds, Lucinda screams)

And you killed her.

- The horse did nothing wrong.

How could my own sister do something so horrible?

- Oh, what fun! We�re rich again!

- Ah, ah, ah, ah. I�m rich, Ruthie-Puthie.

But, of course, I�ll take care of those

who believed in my innocence.

- Yes.

- Uh, Rupert, I suppose it will be a touch lonesome

around the estate without your wife.

- Yes. Well, truth is,

I�ve been fantasizing about

escaping my marriage for donkey�s years.

- It always did seem like

Lucinda didn�t much care for you.

- She detested me.

But, in the end, she defended me.

She stood up to her brother and said, "No more."

- Mm. - "No more shall my husband

be the butt of your japes."

And for this grand act of love, she lost her life.

- The act of love being feeding Bernard his own horse.

- Yes. She really did love me.

And now she�s gone forever.

Nothing, nothing, shall ever replace her in my heart.

(Featherstonhaugh): Fire! Ka-pow! Ka-pow!

- Ah, ha, ha, ha! Bucky! Bucky!

Ha, ha, ha! You naughty boy! Wait for me!

(laughing)

Bang! Bang!

- Get ready, soldiers!

(Rupert laughing)

- Return fire!

(theme music)

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