All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries S19E07 Murder She Wrote 1080p CBC WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-Kitsune_Subtitles_4445567891

- Ah...

- And, finally, here he is,
the great man himself.

Detective, please let me
introduce you

to Nigella Fletcher.
She is my third cousin

twice removed,
or something like that.

Second cousin
thrice removed, actually.

Oh. It’s a pleasure
to meet you, Mrs. Fletcher.

- Miss. Sadly unmarried,

but please let me say,
assuredly,

the pleasure is all mine.

Your renown stretches
right across the pond

- and back again.
- Oh. Thank you.

Thank you. And what brings you
all the way to Toronto?

She’s an author!

- Nigella has written
a penny dreadful.

- Mm-hmm.
- Oh, Tommy,

hardly a penny dreadful.

It is a proper novel,

and despite the, uh,
subject matter.

- Which is?
- Why, murder of course.

Oh, I’m sure
you’ll be interested.

- Nigella is on a speaking tour
promoting her book,

so I said I’d show her
the finest police station

- in all the colonies.
- I’m hoping to set a novel

in your fair city.

Hm. And who better
than to show Miss Fletcher

the inner workings
of the Toronto Constabulary

than the great detective
himself, William Murdoch?

And on that note, I shall
take my lovely wife to lunch.

Oh! Well, we’re not going
to that dreadful public house,

- are we?
- There’s nothing wrong with

Ryan’s hotpot. Au revoir!

All right.
Au revoir.

- Well, Detective Murdoch,
I am your humble student.

Oh! And would you do me
the honour o-of signing this?

I really enjoyed your book.
It has given me numerous ideas.

Uh, just let me get a pen.

So you’re saying science
is a better determinate of guilt

than looking someone in the eye?

- The eyes can lie.
Science never does.

- Yeah, but it’s not infallible.
- True, but it can help

to determine the direction
one’s investigation should take.

- Well, that’s interesting.
Yeah, but what if--

Excuse me.

- Oh.

- Detective Murdoch.

Yes. Yes, of course.
I’ll be right there.

Henry?
Uh, yes, sir?

- Miss Fletcher, allow me
to introduce you

to Henry Higgins-Newsome,
one of our finest constables.

- Oh. Well, thank you, sir.
I do what I can.

- Then please be so kind
and show Miss Fletcher

the ins and outs
of your complex work.

- Oh. All right.
- Right.

- Well.
- It’s no easy job

being a police constable,
let me tell you.

The road is often
fraught with danger.

Well, you look
well able to handle it.

- Oh, thank you. Yes.
- I remember one time I was--

- Hello. Detective Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

- I...

- Detective.

Ralph Wells.

Mr. Addison is in there.

- Thank you.

Gentlemen. Thank you.
I’ll take it from here.

- I’m with the detective.

- Miss Fletcher, please.
This is a crime scene.

- Then this is indeed
my lucky day.

- Please don’t touch anything.

- Of course.

Ooh.

- A-anything.
- Oh.

- Where is Constable Higgins?

- Oh, I lost him
about an hour ago,

wasn’t much to it.
Your desk sergeant

very helpfully told me
where you were,

so I thought I’d come
to where the action is.

- Well, now you’ve seen it.

- What, you want me to go?
- Yes.

- But--
- Please.

Teddy. Teddy Roberts!

- Joe!

- Finally.

This is the last
station house on my list.

I-I thought I’d never find you.

- What are you doing here?

- I came to visit my friend
in the big city.

- What about your farm?
- Fields weren’t ready

for planting, so I thought, hey!
I got a friend in Toronto.

Maybe I should come
and see this place for myself.

So, show me around!
- I, uh, can’t. I’m on shift.

- Later then?
- Sure.

- Do you mind if I just,
uh, leave this here?

I’m going to go kick around
for a few hours.

- Uh, you going to be all right?

- Yeah. What, you think
the big city’s gonna eat me up?

You don’t need to be worried
about Joe Enns.

He knows how to handle himself.

Teddy.

- So what part
of full cooperation

didn’t you understand?
- Sir?

- I heard you told Nigella
to leave you alone.

- Not in so many words,
but she was interfering

with our investigation.
- She simply wants

to learn from you. I promised
her that you would cooperate.

- Oh, I’m sure
it was a misunderstanding.

Here, Detective,
I’ve got something for you.

- What is it?
- Well, as best as I can reckon,

a full list of all who attended
Mr. Addison’s retirement party.

Mr. Wells provided it after
you threw me out of the office.

- See that, Murdoch.
A Brackenreid,

possibly somewhere
down the line.

- Thank you.
Now if you’ll excuse me.

- Where’re you going?
- To the morgue, sir.

- Well, take Nigella with you.

She may as well get a look
at the nitty-gritty.

- I like nitty-gritty.

- So what specialized training
do you have, Miss Hart?

- I have a medical degree.

But most of what I gleaned
is from working

with that man there.

And his wife, of course.

- Oh, yes,
the-the former coroner.

- Hm.
- Still, quite the position.

A real achievement
for a woman like yourself.

- What have you Miss Hart?

- He was killed with
a small-bore weapon,

likely a 22-calibre.

- Do you think it could be
self-inflicted?

- Possible.
Detective, take a look at this.

- I-if you would excuse me?

- Oh! Sorry. Yes.

- There are traces of fabric
found in the wound.

- Hm...
- That explains it.

The gun must have been
wrapped in it.

Therefore no one heard
the shot,

especially if the party
was quite raucous.

- Don’t you think?
- Very good. Thank you.

Hm. Well, I suppose
those who can’t do, write.

So, what’s the next step,
Detective?

- Ah, well, in the morning
I shall be interviewing

all those who were present
at the party.

- In the morning?
- Yes.

- Oh! That’s excellent.

You can attend
my reading tonight.

- Oh.

- "Amelia Turnbury

and Janet Maloney

were the dearest of friends.

They had known each other
since childhood

and grew up in harmony

despite the difference in both
their class and religion.

Amelia was to the manner born,

or at least she carried herself
as such,

whilst Janet would never have
been given the chance

to rise above the station
her religion permitted.

...and it was on that cold
November day

Janet went missing."

- I’m not sure how much more
I want to hear of this.

- Oh, don’t be daft, Margaret.
It’s just a work of fiction.

I know she’s a relative,
but she’s pretty good, eh?

Even though I say so myself. Hm.

She does have
a keen eye for detail.

- Thank you.
- Most women do,

and it’s bloody annoying.
- Thomas!

Why don’t you let her
sit in on your interviews?

- You think that’s a good idea?

Well, you’ve just said
yourself she’s got a keen eye.

Let’s see what
her hearing’s like.

- Well, if he killed himself,

he denied everyone else
the pleasure.

- I take it he was
not well-liked.

- He was a liar.

He promised me a partnership.

I waited for him to retire;

thought I’d hear
the magic words. Nothing.

- And that made you angry?

- Uh, Miss Nigella Fletcher.

She’s assisting me on this.

Well, Miss Fletcher,
of course that made me angry.

But I wouldn’t kill him.
I don’t believe anyone

at the firm
would have done that.

Besides, we were
in the outer office

- celebrating his retirement.
- Did no one hear the gunshot?

- No.
- And you didn’t see anyone

go into his office?

- We were having a party.

Nobody was paying rapt attention
to comings and goings.

- You said no one at the firm
would kill him.

Now, can you say
the same for his clients?

Oh-ho. Mr. Addison
had his share of enemies.

- Who are they?
- Who are th--

- Well, the last one to openly
threaten him was Adam Burke.

- Well, that is a shame.

Trevor was looking forward
to retiring.

- You were friends?

- We were good friends
before his wife died.

After that, he became bitter,
unpleasant to be around.

- I see. You were overheard
uttering threats.

- No reason to lie about that.

Our last conversation
was an angry one.

- Ooh, what happened?

You’re that writer,
aren’t you? Nigella Fletcher.

- I am.
- My wife was at

your reading last night.
She said your book was a corker.

- Oh!
- Well, tell her thank you for me.

- If we could, um...

Uh, what were you
and Mr. Addison arguing about?

- He was representing me
in a real estate deal

and he cheated me.

- How so?

- Found out after the fact
he was working both sides,

buyer and seller.

- Well, isn’t that illegal?
- It is if it’s not disclosed.

Trevor made out like a bandit.

Overvalued the property,
as well.

I paid much more
than I should have.

So, yes, I was angry.

But I wasn’t at the party
last night

and I certainly
didn’t kill him.

- I take it you can confirm
your whereabouts?

- I certainly can.

Now, can I ask you:

when is your next
novel coming out?

- Oh! Well, it’s just
in the plotting stage

at the moment.
And that’s why I’m here.

I’m actually thinking of, um,
setting it in-in Toronto.

- No!
- Well, I--

Henry, did a man named
Joe Enns call in last night?

- Yes, he was wondering
where you were.

- Why didn’t you tell me?
- You weren’t around.

- Did he say where he might be?

- I’m not your secretary,
Roberts.

- Are you worried about him?
- Well, he’s a trusting fellow.

- And in this city?
- It’s good reason to worry.

Uh, excuse me. I need
to talk to Detective Murdoch.

- I’ll take you to him.
And thank you, Henry.

This way.

- She was one step up
from a dolly-mop.

- So that was Mr. Addison’s
private secretary?

- Samantha Leon.

And if that’s what you want
to call it, go ahead.

He took her on shortly after
his wife died two years ago.

- Why would this Miss Leon
want to kill Mr. Addison?

Well, he finally came
to his senses and fired her.

She threatened to kill him.

Seems she’s made good on it.

- Why are you not interviewing
Miss Leon?

- We will, in time,
but for now,

we are returning
to the scene of the crime.

- But why when we know
who the criminal is?

- We don’t.
- All we have is an accusation.

And every moment that
the examination

of physical evidence is delayed,

the more chance
there is for error.

- Oh. I see.

And I’ve now received new
information about the crime.

He said
he was a friend of yours.

- So you threw him in the cells?

- It’s what’s done to those
found drunk and disorderly,

friend of the police of not.

- Are you going to charge him?

I should,
but I’ll let it pass.

This time.

- Thank you.

Joe! Wake up.

- Oh, Teddy.

You all right?

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Now that was a whale of a night.

- All right, let’s get you
out and cleaned up.

- This city’s sure got
a lot to offer.

I could take
a big bite out of it.

Hm. Looks like
it bit you back. Let’s go.

- A lady copper?

Now I’ve seen everything.

- Up and out, Joe!

- Hold your horses.
Do you know her?

- I do.

Is she taken?

- What ya doing?

- There is obviously
blood on the desk,

but I’m endeavouring
to find traces of it elsewhere,

which could point
to the killer’s next steps.

But there is nothing.

- The painting.

What about it?

- It’s askew.

It’s empty.

- How much money was in there?

- I-I don’t know.

Who else was aware
of this safe’s existence?

- Uh, only me,

Mr. Addison and the trollop.

Have you spoken to her yet?

By all accounts
she wasn’t at the party.

- That’s true.

But she very well
could have been in this office.

Take a look at this.

- Now. Now, that is clever.

- It leads to the street.

Mr. Addison had it built
years ago

when his wife was still alive.

It gave whomever
he was entertaining

a chance to make a hasty exit

if Mrs. Addison were ever
to arrive unexpectedly.

- Ah!

Excellent.

- So what happens now?

- Constables will look into
the backgrounds

of each of the employees
at Mr. Addison’s firm

and then they will also compare
their fingermarks

to those that were found
on the safe.

- And if they don’t match?

We’ll then look
at the fingermarks

of known criminals
in police database.

- Tedious work.

- But necessary. Right.

- Oh. Uh, where are we now?

Miss Samantha Leon’s
current place of employment,

the Dart and Dagger.
- Oh.

- What can I say?
- He made promises to me

he never kept.
Of course I hated him.

So you weren’t
troubled by his death?

He fired me
and look where I am now.

- Oh, so this is his fault?

I used to work behind a bar

and I would’ve never let it
get to this state.

- Miss Fletcher, please.

- Of course it’s his fault!

He promised to take care of me.
- Oh!

Men rarely tell the truth

when a lie could always
get them what they want.

Look, if someone had betrayed me
like Mr. Addison betrayed you,

I would have done
the same thing.

Miss Fletcher,
I must insist, please.

- Sorry, Detective.

- Miss Leon, your fingermarks

are a match for some of those
found on Mr. Addison’s

private safe. Care to explain?

After he fired me,
I snuck into his office.

You do know about
his secret passage?

- I do.
- Well, I used it to get hold

of the money he had promised me.

But he had changed
the combination.

- So you returned later,
and in a fit of rage,

you killed him.
Oh, it’s certainly

what I would have done.
- Well, I am not you,

and unlike you, I do have time
for my ship to come in.

- Oh, just admit it.
You killed him--

- Miss Fletcher, that is enough.

Thank you for your time
and, uh, my apologies.

- I’m sorry.
- I thought if I pressed her,

she’d blurt out
something useful. I apologize.

It’s just so thrilling
working next to you.

I endeavour to be
better in the future.

But is it not true...

that a gambit like that
works from time to time?

- And sometimes it just serves
to scare them off.

This is my...

This is a police investigation.
Not yours.

- Uh, understood.

"I had watched Amelia Turnbury

and Janet Malone for some time.

The two were arrogant
and insufferable.

Janet had recently
rebuffed my advances

and Amelia mocked me
relentlessly.

The two spend hours
in the pub drinking for free

off the kindness
of the desperate men.

But I had no interest

in being one of those men.

I wished to be God."

And if you would like to know
what happened next,

this fine establishment
has multiple copies

of my volume available.

- Miss Fletcher, I’ve read
your book numerous times.

- Oh. Thank you.

- And numerous times you adopt

the persona of the killer.

Was there a reason for that?

- Uh... Oh!

I think it’s important
as a writer

to identify with
all your characters.

Um... suspect, victim,
and killer.

- Oh. And how do you do that?

- Well, it’s not that hard.

Uh, for example,
have you ever imagined

killing someone
who’s done you harm?

Oh. More than once.

Oh, not you, dear.

- Then all you have to do

is turn your imaginings
into reality.

Oh! On paper, of course.

- Constable Roberts.

I need you to find out
all you can

about an Iris and Adam Burke.

He’s a real estate agent.

- You think they were involved
in the murder of that lawyer?

- They’re persons of interest.

- Right away, sir.

So, Murdoch,
how is my third cousin

twice removed working out?

Well, she certainly has
the Brackenreid blood in her.

You say that
like it’s a bad thing.

- Miss Berger.
- How are you faring?

Well, let’s just say,
now I’ve seen everything.

- How’s that?
- A man your friend

was found gambling with
thinks one of the people

at the table stole
twenty dollars off him.

- So, a criminal in the act
of committing a crime

is reporting
a crime against him.

- That’s about the sum of it.

You know, sometimes
I do miss the country.

Well, the country
isn’t all sunshine and light.

- So, she’s been harassing
a suspect.

Can’t say that’s something
we’ve not done.

Yes, but we are
police officers, she is not.

Mm. I have to say, though,
it’s a shame that there are no

female coppers on the job.

A morality officer
is not a copper.

- I see. And why is it a shame?

- Well, if a woman is giving you
the gears,

it wouldn’t take long before
you would confess to anything

just to get her
to turn off the tap.

- Sir?
- It was a joke. I was joking.

But I do admit,
sometimes you women see things

that us men
are too thick to see.

- That’s better.

- Anyway, uh, Murdoch,
I want to thank you

for all your efforts.
It won’t be much longer.

She’ll be leaving soon.
- Understood.

Uh, sir, you weren’t
at the reading last night.

- It was darts night at Ryans.

I wouldn’t miss that just
for someone reading a book,

relative or no relative.

- Detective Murdoch?

A Miss Samantha Leon
just called. She needs you.

- Oh, don’t worry.
She’s not dead.

It’s amazing the skills
one can pick up

when one takes a new job.

- What happened?

- She came in here,
all full of fire,

accused me of murder.

Said a woman like me
is a disgrace to all women.

I asked her to please
leave me alone,

and when she didn’t, I did this.

- Ah, the rovers return.

Ha. Heard you had a spot
of bother. You all right?

- I thought if I talked to her,
woman-to-woman,

well, she’d reveal something.

Well, she revealed
a kosh from behind the bar.

Something I wish
I had been aware of.

Look, what I did was wrong,
Detective,

and I-I sincerely apologize.

- Yes. But it wasn’t
the first time.

- Sometimes I get carried away.

Nigella, go home.

Margaret’s waiting for you.
- But--

- Let the detective do his job.

So this Miss Leon?

Well, sir,
she might be involved.

But I fear Miss Fletcher’s
actions have made her wary.

- I’ll get her off your back.

Sir. Looked into
the backgrounds of both

Mr. and Mrs. Burke.
- And?

- Nothing out of the ordinary
and both can account

for their whereabouts
of when Mr. Addison was killed.

- Mm. Very good. Thank you.

- Uh, may I take an early lunch?

I’m hoping to meet
a friend from back home.

- Yes. Of course.
- Thank you.

- How is young Roberts
fitting in?

- Quite well, actually.

I feel he may be bound
for better things.

- It’s a shame his colour
will hold him back.

Well, look at you.

- What do you think?
Pretty swish.

- Definitely swish.

How were you able
to afford that?

- Here’s the thing.
- I woke up in the cells,

found there was 20 dollars
in my pocket.

- You didn’t know you had $20?

- Well, I did a bit of gambling
with a couple fellas last night

and I guess I won.

- You guess?
- Things got a little hazy

as the night wore on.

Enough about my good fortune.

Tell me a bit about
that morality officer.

She’s quite proper.

I doubt that she’d be
interested in you,

uh, no offense.

- Uh-huh.

We’ll see about that.

Hey, I thought
we were having lunch?!

- Sorry, Teddy.
- Froggie’s going courting.

- Before you go, uh, sit.
Please. Please.

So, one of the men
you were gambling with

says someone stole 20 dollars
out of their pocket.

- Oh! Huh.

Yeah, it’s a shame.

What about it?

- Well, I just think it’s funny

that you found 20 dollars.

- Let me tell you, Teddy,

Joe Enns is a lot of things,

not all of them good,
but he ain’t no thief.

- Yeah. Right. I apologize.

- Well, no murder
is undetectable.

Given time, forensic evidence
will reveal any method of death.

- Mm.
- But just because you find

the method, does not mean to say
you found the perpetrator.

Well, that’s
Detective Murdoch’s job.

Fortunately,
he’s very good at it.

- You must have seen some
horrible things.

- Oh, I have! Last week,
I examined a man with a--

Um, let’s keep our talk
of the grotesque for the morgue,

shall we? Perhaps we could
talk about the weather, or...

- Well, would you look at that.

Hm. Somebody’s enjoying
a shopping spree.

- And at the most expensive
shop in town, no less.

Thomas makes me cover my eyes
when we walk by.

- Now, that woman is a suspect
in Mr. Addison’s murder

and apparently,
a very large amount of money

was stolen
from Mr. Addison’s firm.

- And walking out of the most
expensive shop in town?

You think she’s a killer?

- I certainly think
it’s possible.

- Oh!

- Miss Fletcher.

- Um, before you start,

Tommy has spoken to me
and I do realize

I have been
an unnecessary burden.

Oh! My book.
Have you been enjoying it?

More than
I thought I would, yes.

What can I do for you?

- I saw Miss Leon

exiting Madame Pomoray’s
dress shop.

- Is that right?
- Mm. Well,

I did wonder.

I mean, how could she
afford to shop there?

I’m just a concerned citizen

providing the police
with some information.

- Detective Murdoch.

Yes. I’ll be right there.

Do you promise
to stay out of my way?

Teddy! Teddy!

Joe.

- Teddy.

- Decided to spend some time
with your old friend?

- What’s wrong?
- Couple of men following me.

- Men? What men?
- I don’t know. Might’ve been

a couple of the fellows
I was playing cards with.

- Might have?
- You know, it’s a-a bit foggy.

Teddy, let me in, please.
I think I’m in trouble.

- All right.

- Looks like he’s not
the only one.

- Somebody must have followed
her back from the shop

and robbed her.

- Well, that’s one theory.

I suppose so,
but if she did kill

Mr. Addison,
then she got what she deserved.

Is-is that from the law firm?

- It appears to be.
- So, I was right

about her all along.

- Here it is.

Same calibre bullet
that killed Mr. Addison.

- Coincidence?

- What do you think, Miss Hart?

- The more time I spend in here,

the less inclined
I am to believe in them.

- So she killed Mr. Addison,

and then someone used
the same weapon to kill her.

Wouldn’t you say so,
Detective?

- I would not.
- What would you say?

I would say that there is
something terribly convenient

about all of this.

- Hm.
- Miss Hart.

- Oh!

Ah, well, Detective,
I shall await the time

you come to the same conclusion
that I have.

- You sound very
certain of that.

It’s, uh,
it’s my final reading tonight.

Will you be there?

- I will endeavour to attend.

- Detective.

Your telegram
from Doctor Ogden has arrived.

- Thank you, Paul.

Oh!

Right. And I would like
to send another, please.

- Yes, sir.

"Amelia was
beside herself.

Her dearest friend had been
missing for over three days,

and the police did nothing.

It only strengthened
her belief that the life

of a young woman meant nothing
to the powers that be.

But Amelia could not
accept the fact

that her best friend was dead.

She knew she was out there
somewhere, suffering.

And at that moment,

Amelia did something

she knew the police
would never do.

Dedicate her life

to finding the fiend

who had killed her friend,

all the while afraid

that she herself
may be the next victim."

Now, you can rest assured

that though my character holds
the police in very low regard...

...that is certainly

not the case for the author.

I have been fortunate
to have borne witness

to the skills and acumen

of the great Detective Murdoch.

And I have been more
than a simple witness.

In fact, we are well on the way

of solving a dastardly
murder case in this fair city.

What are you doing
in my home?

- I’m thirsty.
- And he’s got our money.

- I didn’t take your money.

- Never said you did.
- Then what?

- Rick here stole the money
at the poker game,

left it in your coat pocket
by accident.

- That doesn’t make any sense.

I was three sheets,
thought his coat was mine,

so hand it over.

- I can’t.

- Why?

- I spent it.

- You little weasel.
- Ah!

- You step away from him.
- It’s not your business.

- It sure is.
- I’m a police constable.

- You’re a copper.

That’s rich.

Leave now
or you’re in trouble.

- We’ll leave when we get
what we’re owed.

- Strip off those glad rags.

- Teddy?

We’re getting
something out of this.

I don’t think
you have a choice, Joe.

Do what the man says.
- Uh, uh?

- Sir.
- What have you, Henry?

- I found nothing.
- All of the employees at Addison

are accounted for and
none of them have ever been

found guilty of any wrongdoing.

It may have been that secretary
all along, sir.

- Don’t be so sure.
- Miss Fletcher.

- I know you told me
to stay out of it,

but I think I’ve found
something of interest.

- Thank you, Henry.

What have you found?

- Something your constable
didn’t.

- And what’s that?

- Well, your suspicion

that this was not
a random robbery

got me thinking.

Now, could this attack
be by someone

who knew that Miss Leon
stole the money?

- Someone known to her.
- Exactly.

- And look at this.

Now it seems that until
two years ago,

Miss Daphne Potter
did not exist.

- Not exist-- What do you mean?

- There is no record
of her existence

before she became an employee
at Addison’s firm.

- None?
- No. There’s no record

of previous employment.
There’s no birth record,

nothing. She is a phantom.

May I come with you?

- I very much doubt
I could stop you.

- Oh.

Miss Potter, what are you doing?

- I’m leaving.
- Simply collecting what is mine.

And, it appears,
some things that are not.

- He was my ex-husband.

No one knew.

- The two of you were divorced,

but you continued
to work together?

- Oh, I didn’t have a choice.

And he paid me well.

- Why did you tell
no one of this?

- Trevor had just started
his firm.

He feared that knowledge
of our divorce

would hurt his career,
so he insisted

that we keep our past
relationship a secret.

He also told me I would be
well taken care of

when he retired.

And then
Samantha Leon came along.

- She certainly did.
- And she stole his heart.

Ah, no.

My husband would have fallen
for a turn of the ankle

and a woman of low character.

For two years,
I watched them carrying on.

- It was humiliating.
- Didn’t he fire her?

- Oh, it was a ruse.

I saw it as plain as day.

Miss Leon, you
brought disgrace to this firm!

You’re dismissed at once!

- The steamship tickets were
all the proof that I needed.

He was going to leave
with her and the money.

That money was mine.

I sat and watched them
in humiliation for two years.

He was not going
to give it to her.

- She didn’t steal
the money, did she?

Well, you know
the answer to that.

I went to rub it in her face.

Look what I have.

She was having none of it.

So I made it look
like a robbery.

- You murdered two people.

- Two people who denied me
the life that I deserve.

- Please escort Miss Potter
to the cells.

- Sir, telegram you requested
just arrived.

- You wanted to see me?
- Yes.

- You apprehended Miss Potter.

- I did.
- Oh, until I started looking

into Miss Potter’s background,

I was convinced that Miss Leon,
uh, was the killer.

But you never thought that,
did you?

- Well, I found it difficult
to believe that deposit slips

would be something that
Mr. Addison kept

- in his private safe.
- And that led you to believe

that they were planted.
What about the money?

What we found
in Miss Leon’s home

was a paltry sum.

Over $5,000 was stolen,

and we only recovered 50.

Hardly enough to justify murder.

- That’s a curious phrase.
- Does anything justify murder?

- That is a question I wanted
to ask you, as an author.

- Hm. Hm.
- Please, have a seat.

- I finished your book.
- Did you like it?

- I did. I did.
- Oh.

- Very much. And you have
quite an imagination.

- Well, it is a blessing
and a curse.

Sometimes I scare myself with
what my mind comes up with.

- I can imagine.

- I mean, sometimes,

I get taken away
with my thoughts.

I hardly know what’s real
and what isn’t.

But-but you?

You must be a very strong man
to still believe in goodness

after all the nasty business
you’ve seen.

- Oh.

- What’s this?
- It’s a telegram

I received from my wife.

I thought you might
find it interesting.

- Why would I think that?

- Well, as you know,
from my book,

my wife was a coroner.

She and I worked together
to solve hundreds of murders.

She currently resides
in England.

- Hm.
- In her current position,

she has access
to confidential information,

such as coroner’s reports.

- Oh, is that right?
- Yes.

And, uh, one such
coroner’s report

looks at the murder

of a Felicity Dowling.

She was murdered
in the same town

that you resided in,
almost 20 years ago.

- Oh, uh...

I did not know
they’d found her body.

- Oh, you knew her?
- Well, I knew of her.

I moved away from town
just after she disappeared.

In fact, she was
the inspiration for my novel.

I think she was
much more than that.

Since you’ve arrived here
in Toronto,

you have come across the bodies
of two murder victims.

And in neither case did you
show any sign of emotion.

Perhaps I’m more like you
than you would care to imagine.

- I doubt that.

In this particular
coroner’s report, uh,

the coroner goes into
great detail

about Miss Dowling’s injuries.

It’s very specific.

And these details
were only known to the coroner

and the investigating officer.

And, somehow, yourself.

- "The first cut

severed her Achilles tendon.

This rendered her immobile.

I would have all the time
I needed.

And the gag provided me

with the silence I desired."

"The second cut, again,

was only to wound.

I took great pains to avoid

all the major arteries.

I wanted her alive
as long as possible,

so she could truly pay
for what she had done."

- In listening to you,
I was struck.

You sounded much less
like someone reading,

and more like
someone remembering.

- You have no proof.

- No.

But I do now have something
that I can offer

the Sheffield police

that they didn’t have before.

- And what’s that?

- A suspect.

- When did you know?

- The second reading.

- I will say I didn’t do it.

- I would expect no less.

But you were right about
something you said earlier.

- And what was that?

- Sometimes the eyes don’t lie.

- Could have brought
my bag to me.

- Could have.
- No, instead you want

to parade me around
near naked in the-- Oh Lord.

- Everything under control,
Constable Roberts?

- It is.

- City treating you well,
Mr. Enns?

- I’ve had better times
in my life.

Cover yourself,
or I’ll have no choice

but to write you up.

- Still think I have
a chance with...?

- No.
- Didn’t think so.

Are you sweet on her?

You are, aren’t you?
Okay, I get it,

mates before dates.
But if you want my advice...

- Uh, I don’t think I’ll be
taking advice

from a man walking down
the street in his BVDs.

- And Nigella admits all this?

- She admits to being
heartbroken

when Miss Dowling announced
her engagement

to a man Miss Fletcher loved.

- And that’s motive?

- You know, Thomas, I

never did trust her.

She seemed sort of... ghoulish.

- So, you’re charging her
with murder?

- Well, no, I can’t.

- Then why is she in the cells?

- I’m charging her with

interfering
in a police investigation.

- Well, that won’t stick.

I all but told her
to get involved.

- Yes, but I can keep her
in our cells until

a detective
from Sheffield arrives.

Justice will be done.

- Well, that’s that, then.

- I’m sorry, sir.
- Oh, that’s all right, Murdoch.

But do me a favour:

next time I have a relative
that visits,

please do not arrest them.

Come on, Margaret.
Hm.

Subtitling: difuze