All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - S09E17 - From Buffalo With Love [1080p]

A little token of my affection
for my favorite Mr. Wednesday.

That's my cue.
Enjoy the routine.

And don't run off after.

The infamous Star Room.

Not one of our city's
finer forms of entertainment.

A good burlesque
can be just as entertaining

as a good vaudeville,
if a little suggestive.

Well, this place
attracts all sorts.

- Good evening, Doctor.
- Inspector.

Sorry for dragging you to such
a place at this time of night.

Not at all.

I've always wondered
what it looked like inside.

Not an entirely unlikely venue
in which to find a murder.

More unexpected that anyone
bothered to tell us about it.

Henry.

Who telephoned the police?

Well, sir...

- I did.
- George?

Crabtree, what the bloody hell

are you doing
in a place like this?

Sir...

Higgins.

All right, what did you see?

A couple pretty girls.

A couple not so pretty ones.

It's all right, Crabtree.

I've been found
in worse places than this.

What can you tell us
about the incident, George?

Sirs, I can't tell you
much of anything.

- Where were you seated?
- Here at this table.

How could you not see anything?

You were sat
almost on top of the crime.

Well, sir, I don't know.
It gets loud in here.

Well, this may help
explain a few things.

He used a kitchen towel
to muzzle the gun.

So, he walks in, wraps the gun
in a kitchen towel,

shoots the victim,
and walks out.

And the victim's dead
a few minutes

before anyone's even noticed.

Giving the killer ample time
to escape.

Anything, Julia?

Yes, single gunshot
wound to the right temple.

I'll conduct a full postmortem,

but I can't imagine
the cause of death will change.

Is it your day off, George?

Doctor, yes.

I'm sorry that the show
was so rudely interrupted.

They say
it's quite the spectacle.

Actually, Doctor,
it really is...

Well...

Well. Yes.

Yes.

I believe my work here is done.
Gentlemen.

Thank you, Julia.

George, exactly what was
happening here an hour ago?

Sir, I-I believe that's when
Miss Nina Bloom was onstage,

which would explain
why nobody noticed this.

She's... She's rather the reason
why men come here.

You say that as though
you've been here more than once.

Let's get started, shall we?

Sirs, what would you
like me to do?

Go home, Crabtree.
It's still your day off.

Full of surprises, that one.

You there.

You found the body, did you?

Yes, I did.

I heard this was a rough place,
but I didn't expect this.

And what were you doing
prior to finding the body?

I was around the tables,
picking up glasses.

- And you didn't see anything?
- Nothing.

Right.
Thank you.

This place is full of lowlifes.
Could have been any of them.

And you're certain
that you didn't see anyone

take a towel off the bar.

I'm here alone.
You see how crowded it is.

Hardly matters to me
what happens to the towels.

Can you identify the victim?

Called himself Gerry.

- A regular?
- Last couple of months.

Always sat at the same table.
Never caused any trouble.

Had a bit of an eye for Lydia.

Who?

Miss Lydia Hall.

The redhead.

We didn't see anything.
We were both busy on the stage.

You didn't hear anything
resembling a gunshot?

We already told you, no.

I understand you were familiar
with the victim, Miss Hall.

No.
N-Not really.

If you withhold the truth
from me,

I will be forced to add you
to my list of suspects.

Now, the truth, please.

His name was Gerry.
He had a room on Sumach Street.

Corner of Sumach and King.

Thank you.

There it is.

Julia,
I-I'm concerned about George

frequenting a place like that
on his own.

Perhaps he doesn't wish to spend
his free time alone in his room.

Well, the vaudeville, yes.

The arcade even.

But the Star Room?

I-It just doesn't seem
like the sort of place

that he would visit.

George has had a difficult year,
William.

First Edna, then Emily leaving.

Perhaps he's simply lonely.

At any rate, .22-caliber.

I'm afraid there's likely not
much else the body can tell us.

Right.

Thank you, Julia.

I think what George needs
is a friend.

Someone he can talk to.

Oh, would you?

Not me, William.
You.

Right.
Right.

Ah, here we are, sir.

Awfully callous of the landlord

to throw out the victim's
belongings so soon.

In any case, this must be
the crates he was talking about.

Might spend an evening together
outside of work.

Sir, I would enjoy that
very much.

Well, I thought
you might be amenable

to an evening at vaudeville.

Sir, to tell you the truth,
I've gone off vaudeville a bit.

It's too competitive.

All right, then.

Uh, if not vaudeville,
then perhaps a concert...

or a lecture.

Yes.

The Royal Society of Geologists

is hosting an evening
of talks about tectonics.

That's the division of...

Perhaps you could choose
an activity, George.

Sir, I don't suppose you'd be
up for a night at the burlesque?

I-I know what you're thinking,
Sir.

Some of the themes
are adult in nature,

but it's actually
a very clever show, sir.

People often say one thing

when they sort of
mean something else.

It's very cheeky.

Yes, I'm familiar with
what burlesque entails, George.

I-I just didn't figure that
to be your sort of... comedy.

Well, sir,
to tell you the truth,

it's one of the dancers there.

Miss Nina Bloom.
She's...

It sounds silly, sir,
but she's mesmerizing.

That's her job, George.

Yes, I realize that, sir, but...

It's hard to explain.

Have you a relationship
with this...

Oh, heavens, no, sir.
I doubt she knows me from Adam.

I see.

You really need to see her
perform to understand, I think.

Yes, well,
perhaps we'll find an activity

that we could both enjoy, hmm?

Oh, here we are.

Birth certificate.
From Buffalo.

The victim's full name
was Gerald Sloan.

Well, here you are, George.

Find out everything you can
about Mr. Sloan

from his neighbors,
his employer,

and I think you'll find
the dancer Miss Lydia Hall

has some insights.

Sir.

All right, George.

I-It's good talking like this.

It's good.

Hello, Mr. Wednesday.

You do know the show
doesn't start until later.

Or are you hoping
for a sneak peek?

Uh, no.
That is...

I don't believe
I caught your name.

George Crabtree.

Nina Bloom.

At your service, Constable.

I'm actually here on
official business, Miss Bloom.

And here I thought you'd come
to help me with my routine.

Give me a few pointers
from a real copper.

Perhaps I'm holding my gun
incorrectly.

You are, in fact, but
I hardly think anybody minds.

Oh, no.
This is my craft.

I strive for realism.

In fact, I'm having some trouble
taming my billy club.

Maybe you can show me
your technique.

I'm here
to investigate a murder.

Lucky me.

You don't act like most people
do when the police show up.

- Especially...
- In a place like this?

Well, I'm not most people.

And if you haven't noticed, I've
taken a bit of a shine to you.

I imagine you're like that
with most of your customers.

Heavens, no.

Only the ones
I find interesting.

And I think you find me
interesting, too.

I do.

Take me to dinner tonight.

Miss Bloom, I'm here to speak...

I'm... I'm actually here
to speak to Lydia Hall

about Gerald Sloan.

Ah, all business, I see.

Well, she's not here yet.

You're at Station Number Four?

Yes.

Then that's where
I'll telephone you.

When Miss Hall arrives.

Then too.

Sir, the lads have yet

to come up with the
murder weapon, unfortunately.

They've turned the Star Room
upside down

but they've come up
with nothing.

I'm not surprised, George.

What did you find out
about the victim?

Nothing again, sir.
He's unemployed.

Yet he gave his landlord
six months advance in cash.

- Family?
- None on record.

In fact, there seems to be
no record of this chap

prior to six months ago,
neither here nor in Buffalo.

- No, there wouldn't be.
- Sir?

The birth certificate's
a forgery.

Gerald Sloan doesn't exist.

It appears an excursion
is in order.

What is it with these Americans?

Plastering their flag
over every conceivable surface.

National pride, sir.

I daresay the British
aren't much different.

Yes, but our flag is subtle.

Powerful in its simplicity.

I see.

According to
George's directions,

the police station should be
somewhere along this block.

Let's hope his mind
wasn't on certain other things

when he wrote them down.

Sir, the instructions
say that we are to wait

for a Detective Walker
outside the police station.

Murdoch and Brackenreid?

Badges, please.

Follow me.

You want to know
about Gerald Sloan.

- So do a lot of people.
- Oh?

Though it hardly matters now.

Th...

The truth is,
he's not Gerald Sloan.

His real name is Gerry Sachs.

And just why did Sachs feel
the need to change his name?

I caught him on a job,

but rather than go to jail,
he turned informant

and gave evidence against
the head of the enterprise.

Sachs' testimony sent him away.

So I sent Sachs away.

You forged
the birth certificate.

In exchange for his testimony,
Sachs was given a new identity,

some cash, and a train ticket
to a new city.

He chose Toronto.

He didn't choose anything.
We did.

You sent a criminal to my city

without so much
as a courtesy call?

Informing you of his whereabouts

would have defeated the purpose,
Inspector.

Unbelievable.

I'll be having a word
with your superiors about this.

I suppose
it doesn't matter anymore.

Sachs was a test case.

The Relocation Agreement Tactic.

But since they found him,

I doubt I'll ever get approval
to do it again.

Since who found him, Detective?

Just who did Mr. Sachs
put in prison?

The founder of the Buffalo
chapter of the Black Hand,

Giuseppe Falcone.

You know of him?

If you'd bothered
to let us know of your plan,

Sachs might still be alive.

At any rate, I imagine the
Black Hand are still operating

in spite of Mr. Falcone's
incarceration.

We expected his son
would take over, Giuseppe Jr.

But we haven't heard a peep
out of him for weeks.

We want to talk to Falcone.

That'll take some time
to arrange.

Oh, we've got plenty.

Did Mr. Sachs
have any next of kin?

A wife and some children.

Oh, may we...

Better you than me.

Gerry is really dead?

I'm afraid he is.

We can arrange for his body

to be sent back to you
from Toronto.

Don't bother.

I'm not about to get stuck
with his funeral bill.

I'm not sure you know this,
Mrs. Sachs,

but your husband
was granted asylum

in exchange for a testimony.

Oh, I know all about it.
We were packed and ready.

But the bastard up and left

without so much
as a never-you-mind,

and I never
heard from him again.

So, you and your children
were meant to go with him?

It was part of the deal.

What coldhearted bastard
would leave his wife behind

to support three children
all on her own?

And yet you never followed.

I would have
if I'd known where he'd gone.

Where were you two nights ago?

You're not serious.

I was on a 16-hour shift
at the Larkin soapworks,

which, thank the Lord,
I won't have to do much longer.

- Why do you say that?
- My husband is dead, Detective.

Now I can finally start over.

Things have quieted down here
a little bit.

A murder will do that.

It is nice not having to fend
off groping hands for one night.

Well, the unwanted ones,
at least.

Are there many unwanted ones?

I have my regulars.

Bespectacled man, Eamon,
but he's harmless.

There's a couple of aldermen,
who shall not be named.

That Joe fellow is the worst,
though.

He even gave me his room number
at the Monarch Hotel.

At least he's moved on
to Lydia now.

So, are men in the habit of
giving you their room numbers?

It happens.

Though there's one in particular
I've yet to be offered.

So, are you in the habit
of visiting men in their rooms?

If I so choose.

I see.

Do you think that improper?

Do you think men are the only
ones who feel lust or passion?

No, of course not.

But you think they're the only
ones allowed to act on it.

I don't know. I don't know
if it's proper that a young...

If you cared all that much about
propriety, you wouldn't be here.

Nina...

Excuse me, squire.

I'I have a beer and I'll take
the chicken, please.

Oh, all out.

Well, then I'll take
whatever you've got.

I'm sorry, sir.
The kitchen has no food left.

Bollocks.

What kind of restaurant
has no food?

You're welcome to come see
for yourself.

All we have left is the...

...refuse from
the chicken special.

- What refuse?
- The wings.

Inedible.

At this point,
I'd eat the bloody feathers.

Fry them up.

Oh, but, sir,
they're just bone and skin.

You're going to throw them away,

and I'm offering you good money
instead.

If you're sure.

Go.

Off you go.

All right.
Get him a beer.

Mr. Falcone will be at the
police station in the morning.

Excellent.

Care to join me?

- What is that?
- Dinner.

I put some of this spicy sauce
on them.

Try one.

No, thank you.

Your loss.

I'll tell you, Murdoch,

these chicken wings are the
only good thing about Buffalo.

Will you look at that.

The Canadians
are eating our garbage.

I can move the screen
if you'd like.

I'm terribly sorry.

I can come back at another time.

Why are you in here, George?

I was...

I was looking for Lydia Hall.

I don't think that's really why.

I know what you want.

I see how you look at me
when I'm onstage.

Perhaps I misjudged.

Perhaps I did not.

- Is that your bag?
- It's Lydia's.

What did that girl
get herself into?

I have to go. I should
bring this down to the station.

At this hour, I doubt anyone
will be there to see it.

That's probably true, but...

The gun isn't going anywhere,
George.

Neither are you.

Thank you.

Mr. Falcone.

I hope you're not here to malign
my good name yet again.

We're not here to talk
about the past.

Oh, no?

Now I am intrigued.

You knew this man.

Gerry Sachs, or his more recent
name, Gerald Sloan.

He testified against you.

Yes, I know.
I was there when it happened.

Gerry Sachs is dead.
He was murdered.

It was only a matter of time.

How did you find out
Mr. Sachs was in Toronto?

You just told me.

Mr. Falcone, we know
you didn't kill Gerry Sachs.

But we have strong evidence that
his murder is connected to you.

Who did you order to kill Sachs?
Your son?

I didn't order anyone.

But I cannot stop
those loyal to me

if they wish to defend my honor.

And there are many loyal to me.

Both men and women.

On both sides of the border.

Nin... Nina, what in God's name
are you doing?

I'm just wondering
why Lydia would need this.

Nina, give me that.

Oh, God.

This is evidence.

Your fingermarks
are gonna be all over it now.

I need to go.

As you wish.

I mean, I-I really do.

I-I have to get this down
to the station right away.

You know where to find me.

Right.

Good morning, Crabtree.

Oddly dressed for work.

Sir, I was at the Star Room.

What, this morning?

Do what you want
on your own time.

But I'm not paying you

to watch young girls prancing
around in their skivvies.

Sir.

I found it in the effects
of one of the dancers' costumes.

Lydia Hall's.

Any fingermarks on it?

Yes, sir.

Some of them will turn out
to be Nina Bloom's.

But I assure you, they were
applied long after the murder.

I daren't ask how that happened.

What led you to search
the costumes?

Well, I found myself in
the ladies' changing room, sir.

Found yourself there, did you?

Why were you
in the ladies' changeroom?

Well, I was interviewing
Miss Bloom, you see.

And her answers led you
to Miss Hall's costume?

No, not exactly.

Well, then
just what exactly, George?

It could be material
to the case.

Murdoch, what do you think
he was doing

with a burlesque dancer
in her dressing room?

Oh, I see.

On the job, no less.

You'll want to thank
your lucky stars

that your little assignation
revealed evidence.

Otherwise, we'd be having
a much different conversation

right now, bugalugs.

Sir.

George, a moment.

Yes, sir.

The Black Hand.

Back in Toronto?

So it would seem.

You understand
how this changes things.

Where is Miss Hall now?
At the Star Room?

No, sir. She didn't go to work,
either, last night.

I'll find her.

All right, George.

Sir, I would like to employ
the assistance of Miss Bloom.

With your permission.

She could be involved in this.

I truly don't believe she is,
Sir.

Tread carefully, George.

- Sir.
- Crabtree.

Good advice.

A woman like that will
most likely eat him alive.

Julia thinks that George
is just lonely.

That's one word for it,
I suppose.

I'll call Margaret.

Sir?

I'm certain that Margaret can
find him a pleasant young lady

to take his mind off things.

Oh, yes, of course, of course.

Julia and I could host a dinner
Saturday evening.

Saturday it is.

Lydia isn't a killer.
She's barely a dancer.

All the poor girl wants
is to find a husband.

Besides, she was onstage with me
the whole time.

I know, Nina, but the gun
was with her costume.

She must know something.

About last night.

What about it?

It was enjoyable.
I mean, it was beyond...

I mean, what I mean is, we
hardly know each other, and...

And what?

Well, I'm sure you have
certain expectations.

Expectations?

I just want you to know
I'm an honorable man.

I don't want to marry you,
George.

W... No.
Of course not.

Not yet.

Not ever.

I hardly even know you.

And besides,
I'm not that kind of woman.

- What kind?
- The marrying kind.

You shouldn't think so little
of yourself.

I'm sure many men
would disregard your past.

I shouldn't care
if they did or didn't.

I'm not like Lydia.

I don't dance at the burlesque
only to snag a husband.

Why do you, then?

Because I enjoy it.

I won't deny myself the things
that bring me pleasure,

and that includes you.

If you think less of me
because of it, then so be it.

- I don't.
- Good.

Then should you want to continue
enjoying my company,

I will welcome you.

If not, I am happy to part now.

I don't want that.

Then stop questioning
the right or wrong of it.

It simply is.

I don't know anything about any
Black Hands or any foreigners.

All I know
is you fellas coming around

is really bad for business.

The sooner we catch
who's responsible,

the sooner we'll stop
coming round.

Look, you are
the bartender here.

You know better than anyone
what goes on in this place.

Who do you know
that has connections

to the Falcone family
out of Buffalo?

My new busboy.
He's from Buffalo.

Miles Hart.

Wait, the same busboy
who discovered the body?

- Yes.
- Where is he now?

Look at the state of this place.

Not here, obviously.

There might be one more place.

But she would have to be
really desperate to hide there.

- Where's that?
- Her parents' home.

This way.

So, you really believe that
you can do whatever you want,

regardless of the consequences?

- What consequences?
- Your reputation.

My reputation is not who I am.

Well, I know that, but others...

Do you always act the way
others expect you to?

Well, I don't know.

What is it you want?

What is it you aspire to,
George?

Respectability, I suppose,
like anybody else.

So you grew up expecting
to find a girl, marry her,

have a family,
and live happily ever after.

Yes, more or less.

- Has it happened?
- No.

Does your life have less meaning
because of it?

Does it make you less of a man?

I don't know.
I hope not.

All I'm saying is,
make your own choice.

Just because you were told
life should be a certain way

doesn't mean it's the only way.

Marry, don't marry.
What does it matter?

This is it.

Lydia?

Oh, Nina.

Miss Hall. Miss Hall.

I didn't say anything.
I didn't say anything.

- I swear. Please. Let me go!
- Miss Hall.

I'm Constable George Crabtree.
I'm here to help you.

Let me just get my coat.

Miss Hall, if you
just take a seat here,

Detective Murdoch
will be right with you.

Giltman, fetch the detective.

If you didn't do anything wrong,
then just tell them the truth.

And if I did?

Oh, Lydia.

Don't go too hard on her.
She's a simple girl, really.

Oh, Nina, Detective Murdoch
is the fairest man I know.

Listen, I would never
have found her without you.

- Thank you for that.
- You're welcome.

But before I go,
I'd like to claim my reward.

Your reward?

Crabtree!

Sir.

Miss Bloom, the constabulary
thanks you for your services.

Oh, I've already been thanked,
Inspector.

Now, if you don't mind,
we have work to do.

As do I, at the Star Room.

New show every week.

Goodbye, George.

Right, you lot, back to work!

What do you think this is,
a bordello?

No, sir.

I'm sure there are files
need filing.

Get up them stairs
and keep your bloody head down.

Sir.

This gun was found
in your costume.

How did it come to be there?

I don't know.

Miss Hall, you must realize
that at the moment

you are in serious trouble.

Obstruction of an investigation

and possibly
accessory to murder.

Now, how did the gun come to be
amongst your personal effects?

That night, I was onstage.

Afterwards, I went straight
to my dressing room,

as I always do after my
performance, to rest a moment.

I didn't even know
what had happened.

Somebody yelled
that no one was to leave.

The police were on their way.

That's when he came in.

Who?

It was all I could do
to fight him off.

Miss Hall, who came in?

I can't tell you.

He told me not to.

Miss Hall says a man
came into the dressing room

after Mr. Sachs was killed.

Once he heard
the police had been called

and knew he was trapped,

he must have followed Miss Hall
into her dressing room

and then hidden the weapon
in her costume.

A plausible scenario.

All we need now is for her
to identify her assailant.

That Hart fellow from Buffalo,
I had Thompson bring him in.

He may be our man.

I'll see what I can find out.

We have a suspect.

Now, I would like you to tell me
if it's the man you saw

in the dressing room
after the murder.

No. No.
Absolutely not.

If you can identify him,
he'll be arrested.

And you will no longer
be in danger.

Is this the man?

That's the new busboy, Miles.
Of course it wasn't him.

It was one of the patrons.

Can you describe him?

Young lady,
you are trying my patience.

He's been coming around now
for a few weeks.

He calls himself Joe.

Thank you.

- You heard all that?
- We did.

Silly old girl.

She must be daft to dance
in a place like that anyway.

Sir, isn't "Giuseppe"
Italian for "Joseph"?

You're thinking this Joe fellow
could be Giuseppe Falcone Jr.?

It's a possibility.

Sirs, if Giuseppe is Joe,
I know where to find him.

Somewhere you'd rather be?

No, sir.

I telephoned from the exchange.

So if Mr. Falcone Jr.
Is paying the staff to warn him,

he'll be coming out any moment.

Look, Crabtree.

I'm glad you're having yourself
a bit of fun with that dancer.

And she's a looker.
But be careful.

Careful, sir?

Women like that
are only after one thing.

Look at yourself.
Nice lad, good prospects.

Not the sort that she usually
crosses paths with.

She may be trying to entrap you,
George, into marriage.

Sirs, she's not interested
in that.

She has told me as much.

Of course she did.

Your brain is so addled,

you can't see the wood
for the trees.

With all due respect, it's
hardly any of your business.

End it now, Crabtree.

I'm afraid
the Inspector is right, George.

- You, as well, sir?
- Get smart.

You wouldn't want
a woman like that

raising your children,
now, would you?

Considering who raised me,

I wouldn't think it
much of a problem, sir.

That's him.

I recognize him
from the Star Room.

Giuseppe Falcone.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

We know who you are
and what you've been up to.

Congratulations.

Don't be smug.

Your father can't help you beat
a murder charge from jail,

- now, can he?
- Go ahead and charge me.

You can't prove a damn thing.

But it's going to be fun
watching you buffoni try.

Sachs deserved
every bullet he got.

You were at the Star Room
at the time of the murder.

I gave my statement
to one of your constables.

Which left out your little
sojourn into the dressing room,

whereupon you hid
the murder weapon.

That's a nice story.

Look, I'm not saying
I didn't kill him.

- Then say you did.
- Why should I?

This gun was found
amongst the dancers' costumes

at the Star Room.

No one's gonna say that's mine.

They don't have to.

Your fingermarks are on it.

That's all the proof we need.

Wait.
Wait.

Yes, that's my gun.

But I didn't kill anybody.

- Right.
- No, really.

I was going to.

I mean, I was supposed to do it,
weeks ago.

I just...

I couldn't.

But I'm a Falcone.
I had to take the credit.

Even though you didn't do it.

It can still be me, can't it?

Just without going to jail?

Sir, the bullet did not
come from Falcone's gun.

So he's telling the truth?

It would appear so.

But he was sent here
for that purpose.

His father did indeed know that
Mr. Sachs was here in Toronto.

So then who told Falcone Sr.?

It was that dancer.

She showed up in Buffalo,
mouthing off about Gerry.

Which dancer was in Buffalo?

You know, the one who led me on.
The... The redhead.

Gerry already had a wife
back in Buffalo.

But he said
he wanted to marry me.

- He told you that.
- He told me everything.

That he was a thief
back in Buffalo,

but he wanted to go straight.

So he changed his name
and came here to start over.

I'm afraid
that's not quite true.

It is.

He wanted to marry me,
only his wife wouldn't let him.

So you decided to go to Buffalo
to confront his wife.

I thought that if I could show
her that Gerry was lost to her

that she would let him go.

And what did Mrs. Sachs
say to you?

She wanted a divorce.

She even had a new beau, only
she didn't know where Gerry was.

So you told her.

Of course.

I told Gerry that everything
was worked out.

He was so mad at me.
I never understood why.

Gerry Sachs was given
a new identity

in exchange for his testimony
against a powerful criminal.

What?

His family was to join him,
but he abandoned them instead.

He was never going to marry me,
was he?

He lied to me about everything.

Oh, my God.

I told them where Gerry was.

He was killed because of me.
It was all my fault.

I j... I just wanted a husband.

I just want to be able
to walk down the street

with my head held high.

Miss Hall told Mrs. Sachs that
her husband was here in Toronto.

Yet Mrs. Sachs told us
she had no idea where he was.

Why lie to us?
She didn't kill her husband.

The soapworks confirmed that she
worked a 16-hour shift that day.

She didn't kill anyone.

Go on.

Well, sir,
Mrs. Sachs told Miss Hall

that she had a new beau and
that she intended to remarry.

So you think the new beau told
Falcone where Sachs was hiding,

expecting him
to take care of it.

Which Falcone did
by sending his son here.

But Junior didn't do
what he was supposed to.

So perhaps this mystery beau

decided to take care
of Mr. Sachs himself.

So all we have to do now
is find the bugger.

No one in the Star Room saw or
heard a thing, not even George,

who was seated
almost on top of the victim.

Why should anyone
have noticed anything?

If they were so fixated
on the stage, as you say,

only something unexpected
would have diverted attention.

But isn't a man walking
through a crowded room

with a towel unexpected?

You're sure he's here?

The bartender at the Star Room

said that he was headed back
to Buffalo.

- Let's hope he wasn't lying.
- I doubt it.

He succeeded
where Junior failed.

Falcone will want to reward him.

Go back to Toronto
and leave me alone.

Mrs. Sachs, step aside,

or you'll be arrested
for harboring a fugitive.

There's no one here.

Hold your horses, sunshine.
Come here!

Leave him alone.

Miles only wanted to give me
a better life.

Miles Hart, you are under arrest
for the murder of Gerry Sachs.

You can't arrest me.
I'm an American citizen.

Extradition papers.

Canada's this way, Mr. Hart.

Ma'am.

George.

This is a nice surprise.

Can you unlace me?

I wasn't expecting
to see you tonight.

Aren't you supposed to be out
protecting our fine citizenry?

I should tell you that I'm
otherwise engaged this evening.

Well, that's quite a face.

Could use some cheering up.

What's wrong?

Tell me.

Nina...

I had words with my inspector
about you.

What did he say?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

A casual evening
amongst friends.

That's exactly what George needs

to get his mind
off of his burlesque dancer.

William,
it isn't for you to judge

with whom George chooses
to spend his time.

I only mean
that George deserves better.

You don't even know her.

Her reputation.

Well, consider my reputation.
Is that how you would judge me?

So you and the inspector

are delivering this poor woman
to George?

Oh, she's a fine young lady.

Her father owns a
stationery store on Avenue Road.

Oh. Well, we know how much
George loves pens.

Right.

William, I can't see how
this is a good idea

from any perspective.

Let's make our guests
feel welcome, shall we?

We'll head down to the dining
room when George appears.

Cheese?

Hm. Must be nice to have someone
do all the cooking for you.

You should have tasted
the abomination

Thomas made for me last night.

- Sir, you didn't.
- I did, indeed.

Margaret got to enjoy
the spicy wings of Buffalo.

- The boys loved them.
- Ugh, ghastly.

Will Mr. Crabtree be here soon?

Oh, I'm sure he will.

But don't make yourself
too available.

A good man relishes
the challenge.

Ah, that must be
the man of the hour now.

Now get to your feet.
Let him see what awaits.

Welcome.

Thank you for the kind
invitation, Dr. Ogden.

We're pleased
to have you, George.

I hope you don't mind.
I brought a guest.

So delighted to have been
included in your little soiree.

- Crabtree.
- Thomas?

Not again.

Everyone, meet my new
sweetheart, Miss Nina Bloom.