All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S10E14.1080p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD

Horace dearest, lunch is ready.

Where are you?

Would you like me
to bring it to you?

Horace?

Oh, there you are.
Are you napping?

Wake up, Horace.
I've brought you your lunch.

Horace?

Horace?

Horace?

[ Gasping ]

[ Screams ]

As you know,

Inspector Brackenreid
has joined Mr. Pendrick

in his quest to recover
a scientific formulation

that could be of great
benefit to mankind.

Have we had word
from them yet, sir?

I received a postcard
only yesterday

from the port of Havana.

Apparently they're bound
for Panama.

He didn't go into great detail,

but it's clear that his absence
will be of some duration.

Accordingly,
I have been appointed

acting inspector
until his return.

To that end...

Then do we refer to you
as inspector or detective?

Or acting inspector?

That would
just sound silly, Henry.

Why would it sound silly?
It's what he is.

We can just
stay with detective.

Please.
Now, back to what I was saying.

During the inspector's absence,

I will be making
some organizational changes...

...that I believe
will make our operations

run more effectively,

starting with
our filing system.

Uh, but we can discuss that
another time. Um...

Talk amongst yourselves.

- Detective Watts.
- Ah, Detective!

Actually, it's acting inspector
for the moment.

Oh.

Will you be wanting this office,
then? I'm happy to take yours.

No, I-I'll be keeping my office,
thank you.

Good, good.
I prefer this one.

Separate entrance.
Very handy.

Detective Watts...

I was asked
to vacate Station One.

Personality issue.

Mine, I suppose.

Then I heard
that by happy coincidence

this space was available.

Excuse me, sir.

There's been a murder.

[ Woman sobbing ]

Oh, my Horace.

My dearest, dearest.

My best and only companion.

The love of my life.

How can this be?

My Horace is dead.

He's been murdered!

Oh.

Mrs. Frizzel, I understand
the death of your dog

must be a terrible loss.

I offer you my condolences.

He was my closest family.

Nonetheless, it isn't really
within the purview

of the Toronto Constabulary
to attend to the death of dogs.

Is it possible your dog
died of natural causes”?

Absolutely not.

He'd just been
thoroughly examined

by the finest vet
in the country.

Right. And did Horace have
any enemies you know of?

George...

The Toronto Dog Show
is in two days.

The owners of the dogs

nipping at Horace's heels
for the championship

would all have loved to have
seen him out of the running.

Sir, that sounds like motive.

Everyone knew that Horace
was the odds-on favorite

to win best dog in show.

And the next stop
was the show of shows...

Westminster at Madison Square
Garden in New York City.

- [ Telephone rings ]
- Excuse me.

Hello.

Yes, it is.

I can't believe it.

It's just
so appallingly horrendous.

[ Whispering ] George,
this is not a murder.

This is canicide.

Exactly, sir.
Like homicide or suicide.

An unlawful killing.

But there is no law against
the killing of an animal.

You know that.

Now, stay with her
and help her bury the dog.

Bury him?

Without a funeral?

My caller wishes to
speak with you, Detective.

With me?

Detective Murdoch.

Yes, Mr. Mayor.

N-No, I understand.
I...

George, see that the body

is transported to the morgue.

And find out everything you can
about the other competitors.

Sir.

You there.

Ah, Detective Watts.

Uh, Constable George Crabtree.

We worked together
some time ago.

Ah, yes.
Eager fellow, weren't you?

What does the detective
have you working on today?

Actually, I'm trying to
ascertain the killer of a dog.

- A dog?
- A very important dog, mind you.

And you're all
engaged on this case?

[ Laughing ]

You there.
Can you read and write?

Of course.

Well, your demeanor suggested
that might not be the case.

Do you have a name?

Does my demeanor suggest
that I don't?

Ho ho! Very good.

Backbone. Wit.

With me, Constable.

Have you seen this?

I have.

We should not be wasting

valuable police resources
on a dog,

regardless of its relationship

to the sister-in-law
of the mayor.

People like dogs, William.

Now we add a little peroxide
of manganese to the solution.

Eureka.

The cause of death
was strychnine poisoning.

So it appears you do
have a murder to solve.

Canicide is not murder,
Miss James.

Only humans can be murdered.

Be that as it may, we also found
Veronal in the dog's intestines.

Meaning?

Death by strychnine
can be very painful.

The Veronal would have
eased the symptoms.

As if the poisoner
was attempting

to minimize
the dog's suffering.

Maybe the dog killer
was also a dog lover.

It's been suggested that
this may have been motivated

by a dog competition.

A rival dog owner, perhaps.

I imagine the stud fees of
a champion must be quite high.

MURDOCH:
Dogs were bred for a function,

not to be household pets
or show animals of the rich.

People of all classes
own dogs as pets, William.

I believe they can be
very beneficial

to the health and well-being
of their owners.

Mm.

Have you anything else
to report?

Yes.

In examining
the dog's stomach contents,

we found a barely digested
piece of beefsteak.

Yes, I believe
it was fillet mignon.

Filet mi... For a dog?

That is ridiculous!

Do you have any idea
what that would cost?

Yes.
But it does taste good.

DR. OGDEN: [ Laughs ]

Anyway, that's all
the information we have for you.

We have to finish up.

The dog's been requested
for the funeral.

I imagine you'll be attending.

Thank you.
I appreciate it.

What have you, George?

Sir, it's a who's who

of the Toronto
canine competitive society.

This is Sebastien Melrose.

His dog, Kaiser,
once took best in breed.

He also has some second
and third-place finishes

in group categories.

This gentleman
is Buck Christopher,

he's a sheep farmer, sir.

He just started showing
his dog Duke.

Some people question
Duke's pedigree,

but he's already charmed his way
into a couple of ribbons.

Oh.
Isn't that Ruth Newsome?

CRABTREE: Oh.
Yes, sir.

And her dog,
who she's named Roger,

after her late brother.

Something of
an unusual tribute.

Thank you, dear friends,
for being here

on this
unbearably sorrowful occasion.

Horace Frizzel was
my beautiful, beautiful boy.

Among his peers,
he was a champion.

And in every ring he entered,

he would carry his 150 pounds
with ease and grace.

Now, Miss Newsome and Roger
are new to the scene, sir,

but they've already picked up
a couple of ribbons

and are considered a real threat
by the other owners.

...would have invariably won
at Westminster in New York City.

George, which of these dogs

is likely to become
the new champion now?

Sir, they're all strong entries,

but the lead contender
is not here.

- Where is he?
- She.

Pistachio, sir.

A Labrador retriever

of unequaled perfection,
or so I'm told.

Her owner
is Beaumont Stoddard.

I pray that his killer
will be found and punished.

What more can be said
of a creature so beautiful

and noble...

...and beloved?

Actually, sir,
he's just arrived.

MURDOCH:
Is that Beaumont Stoddard?

The man walking Pistachio
is the trainer, Michael Dubois.

Stoddard is the man
just behind.

- MURDOCH: Ah.
- Good night, sweet prince.

And may flights of angels
sing thee to thy rest.

How dare you?!

[ People murmuring ]

I've come to pay my respects
to a great animal.

- That you've killed!
- George.

I understand you're grieving.

Get out!

Come, Pistachio.

Right here.

You too, Dubois.
We know when we're not welcome.

Beaumont Stoddard
couldn't stand the fact

that Horace bested Pistachio
in every category.

Surely some of the other
contenders felt the same way.

Well, none who could have
done this.

How can you be sure?

I have given this
a lot of thought.

Now, Kaiser is
a great competitor,

but his owner,
Sebastien Melrose,

is a friend of mine.

He never would have done
such a thing.

And what of the basset hound?

Duke?

That hound is an imposter.

And his owner,
Buck Christopher,

is a simpleton.

He lacks the sophistication
to perpetrate a dog murder.

- Ruth Newsome?
- Hmm.

Roger has potential,

but Ruth herself
is an ineffectual nitwit.

No.
Stoddard is the murderer.

And now that terrible man
stands first in line

to win the competition.

What do you notice?

They're all
from different years,

but they describe
similar circumstances.

Mm-hmm.
Read this one.

"Maybelline, if you're
reading this, please come home.

Your children miss you,
and I've changed my ways."

How many are like that?

There's four
from this year alone.

Last year, six.
Before that, four.

Three in 1900.

Women are leaving
their families.

A reasonable conclusion.
Except look at 1899.

No such advertisement.
1898, none.

1897, none.

You grasp the implications,
Constable.

Indeed.

A woman leaves her family,
she goes somewhere else.

To her parents, to her sister.

Word gets back, no need
to place an advertisement.

But these woman have vanished.

Kidnapped? Murdered?

All I know
is women are going missing.

There's more every year.

And it all began in 1900.

And you'd like me
to help you find them?

Oh, no.

I want you to take notes.
I tend to lose mine.

Or you could rejoin your
colleagues on their dog case.

- I'll get my pen.
- Mm-hmm.

Mr. Stoddard, a word?

What can I do for you,
Detective?

I understand Mrs. Frizzel's dog
was poisoned.

Yes, and Edith is convinced
I did it.

Frankly,
with her for an owner,

it's entirely possible the poor
creature took his own life.

Do you know of any reason

why she would suspect you
in particular?

She's laboring under
the delusion

that her dog
stood in the way of my victory,

when it's obvious that Pistachio
is the superior animal.

DUBOIS: [ Choking ]

That's not the way
the judges saw it.

That was last year,
before I hired Mr. Dubois.

[ Dogs barking ]

[ Groans softly ]

You believe it to be
strychnine poisoning?

Given the symptoms
you've described,

there seems little doubt.

Although vomiting
after strychnine poisoning

would be unusual, wouldn't it?

I'll take the sample
back to Miss James,

get her to analyze it
at the morgue.

Thank you.

It was you.
You did this!

- MURDOCH: Mr. Stoddard...
- I will kill you.

I will kill you!

Mr. Stoddard,
that is quite enough.

You are coming with me.

This is an outrage!

She is the one
who should be in here.

I've done nothing wrong.

You uttered a death threat,
Mr. Stoddard.

Where's Pistachio?

She's been entrusted
to the constabulary.

You'd better take good care.
She has a tendency to wander!

Good girl, Pistachio.

George, you and Henry
will need to mind the dog

while Mr. Stoddard
is in custody.

Sir, when will that be?

Once he's had a chance
to calm down.

HIGGINS: [ Chuckles ]

She's taken a real shine
to you, sir.

You know, they say that a dog
can sense a true dog lover.

[ Barks ]

Well, they are wrong.

Shoo. Shoo.

[ Barks ]

[ Barks ]

I think Pistachio might need to
take care of some business.

[ Barks ]

- Where are we going, sir?
- Here.

Are these the missing women?

Yes, with whatever details
I've learned.

Uh, what does this say?

WATTS: Lynn Clark, 40s,
new to Toronto.

You assured me
that you could read.

Those are all my notes,
by the way, so don't lose them.

I've decided
the best way to approach this

is to concentrate
on one missing woman at a time.

Starting with Natalie Sykes,
26 years old.

Her family hasn't heard from her
since the fire.

Uh, why her, sir?

Well, she's first
on the list.

Oh. Right.
That makes sense.

My aunt Primrose and Azalea
are big dog lovers.

I bet they never had
any of the breeds

they have
at these high-class dog shows.

No, they're all mongrels.

But, you know, it's said that
mongrels are not only smarter

but healthier
than these purebreds.

What is it?

Well, we might as well
take a break.

Ah.

You thirsty, Pistachio?

Come on.
Come on, Pistachio.

- That should be him there, sir.
- Mr. Harding?

Who wants to know?

It's my understanding
a Miss Natalie Sykes

lived across the hall from you
earlier this year.

For a time.

When was the last time
you saw her?

- Early May.
- May?

That was after the fire.

Did you not know she was
reported missing in mid-April?

She didn't look missing
to me.

Do you have any idea
where she might have gone?

Church.

Church?

Saint Stephen-in-the-Fields.

That's where she was heading
when I last saw her.

And weren't you concerned when
she didn't return from church?

It was not my business.

- You said you read, Jackson.
- Sir.

Do you know the works
of Karl Marx?

Can't say that I do.

He said,
the more industry grows,

the quicker
it destroys community.

He may be right.

Do you think the detective
will make us do more work

than the inspector did?

He may implement
some efficient systems.

- So we may do less?
- HISTORIAN: Give it back!

I don't know
what you're talking about!

- What's the trouble here?
- Thank you.

This barkeep has stolen
my travel journal,

and it's irreplaceable.

Travel journal?
Where are you traveling from?

All across the country.

I am a historian,

telling the true tale
of this great land

as her iconic birthday
fast approaches.

Canada is having a birthday?

Oh, yes.
Look at this.

This...

This is from an 11-year-old
girl in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia.

And this a celebratory birthday
song from Newfoundland.

Newfoundland is not
a part of Canada.

Oh, it will be.

Oh, really? When exactly
will this transpire?

George,
his irreplaceable book.

When did you last see
this book?

I'm sure
it didn't just disappear.

Well, I was sitting right here.

I turned to admire that
lovely dog you have over there,

who's no longer here,
by the way.

I turned back
and there was me book, gone.

- Pistachio!
- Pistachio!

Why else was Edith
at the dog show?

It was revenge.

An eye for an eye.
It's as simple as that.

By poisoning your trainer?

- My trainer?
- Mr. Dubois.

Good God, I'd hardly be this
upset if she was after Dubois.

After Horace was poisoned,

Dubois wasn't taking
any chances.

He was eating Pistachio's food?

It was his idea.
He's very dedicated.

So the dog
was the intended victim.

Of course.

That's why I find it
so appalling.

A self-confessed dog lover.

Mrs. Frizzel did not
try to poison your dog.

How do you know?

The poison that was used
was strychnine,

the same that was used
on Horace.

I'm sure she sees it
as ironic justice.

She was never told
that it was strychnine.

The same poison
used in the same manner

would suggest
the same poisoner.

Unless you believe
that Mrs. Frizzel

poisoned her own dog.

Who, then?

Who had access
to your dog's food?

Dubois buys meat
from the local butcher,

who holds the highest standards.

And where was it kept?

In a crockery pot in the stall.

Was it ever left unattended?

During Pistachio's training run.

Anybody could've had access.

What time was that?

3:00, thereabouts.

- MURDOCH: George.
- Sir, I hate to tell you this...

- Where's Pistachio?
- Well...

Well, what?
Where is she?

We were breaking up
a disturbance at a bar,

and we turned around...

You jackasses! I told you
she has a tendency to wander!

We'll find your dog,
Mr. Stoddard.

You are all useless.

I'll find my dog
and the poisoner by myself!

Sorry, sir.

Get Constable Jackson
and get out there looking.

- Jackson's not here, sir.
- Where is he?

Detective Watts
needed some help with a case.

Jackson's been working
with him.

Has he, now?

Well, get other constables
to help you look.

And don't come back
without that dog.

Sir.

Pistachio!

Pistachio!

I'll go this way.

Pistachio!

Pistachio!

Pistachio!

Have you seen
a golden retriever?

Did you...

I'm sorry,
I didn't notice anyone

at Pistachio's stall
besides Mr. Dubois.

And where were you during
Pistachio's training run?

I was here with Kaiser
all afternoon.

Can anyone confirm this?

I can.

I was in the next stall
clipping Duke's toenails.

- Miss Newsome.
- Oh, did you see Roger's run?

- Yes.
- Isn't he something?

My dear brother
would be so proud.

Indeed.

Miss Newsome, I must ask,
where were you at 3:00?

I was around here somewhere.

I'm afraid I'll need you
to be more specific than that.

Oh.
Well, all right.

Um, 3:00 I was with...

Pistachio!

- No, not Pistachio.
- [ Barking ]

Pistachio, come back here!

Do you have any idea of
the trouble you have caused,

you unruly mutt?

[ Barking ]

Half of Station House
Number Four is looking for you.

Let's go.

Stop that.

- Let... Let go.
- [ Growling ]

What is it?

[ Whining ]

Come.

[ Barking ]

Pistachio, there is nothing
out here.

[ Whining ]

Oh.

Good dog.

When the body was brought in,

the temperature had fallen
no more than seven degrees.

Rigor mortis
hadn't fully set in yet.

So I'd estimate he died

no more than an hour
before you discovered him.

So, shortly before
I arrived at the arena.

Were you able to identify
the weapon that was used?

The wound
appears to be inflicted

by a curved blade
about four inches long.

As in a pair
of grooming scissors.

These are the only scissors
in your kit?

Yes.

I distinctly recall seeing
a pair of curved ones

in your possession yesterday.

Uh, they seem
to have gone missing.

I see.

And where were you
between the hours

of 5:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m.
last evening?

I would have been on my way
to the arena with Kaiser.

You blame Beaumont Stoddard
for the death of your dog.

I do.

I see.

And you've brought none of the
grooming items as I requested.

They were all buried
with Horace,

along with his favorite toys.

I would never use
those things on another dog.

Horace cannot be replaced.

And where were you
between the hours

of 5:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m.
last evening?

I was at Horace's graveside.

My servants can confirm
my whereabouts.

How do you explain the fact

that there are no scissors
in your grooming kit?

Oh, I leave
Duke's hair natural.

I never use scissors at all.

I just, uh,
brush him for the shine.

Ooh!
Here they are.

So Ruth Newsome's scissors
were not the murder weapon, sir?

Not unless she did a very
good job of cleaning them.

- Oh, Detective Watts, a word.
- Of course.

I agreed to let you work out of
Station House Number Four,

but there are limits.

Have I done something to...

It is not proper protocol

for you to commandeer
one of my constables

without checking with me first.

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to overstep...

- Next time, ask.
- Mm-hmm.

Sir, I'm wondering what to do
with Pistachio

now that her owner is dead.

Can't her handler take her?

I understand Mr. Dubois
is still recovering

from his recent poisoning.

Right. Then perhaps she could
stay with you for the night.

Sir, I would love to,
but my landlord

no longer allows animals.

Well, then, I'm sure one of
the other owners can keep her

until Mr. Dubois
can reclaim her.

Sir, one of the other owners
is likely the poisoner.

We can
hardly take that chance.

Right.
What are you suggesting?

I believe your hotel
allows pets, sir.

They may.
I do not.

All right, I suppose
I'll stay here with her.

Here?

I'll bunk down
in one of the cells, I suppose.

Very well.

I won't get
much sleep tonight, sir.

I may not be
at my best tomorrow.

[ Whining ]

George.

This way.
T-This way.

Oh!

Pardon me, pardon me.
This... This way.

Thank you.

Oh. Uh...

Yes, terribly sorry.

This way.

Oh, what a delight.
I've always wanted a dog.

It's for one night only,
let's be clear.

Mr. Dubois is released from
the hospital tomorrow morning.

Oh, what a clever good girl
you are!

Hardly clever.

Julia, Julia, if the dog
chews through the socks,

they'll be of no use to me.

- I'll buy you another pair.
- That's hardly the point.

Be nice, William.

Pistachio's been very helpful
to you so far.

She may even help you
find your murderer.

I think you overestimate
this dog's intelligence.

I believe she wants you
to take her for a walk.

No. Absolutely not.

[ Whining ]

You know, I haven't
really stopped to think

how this must be affecting you.

Eh, Pistachio?

Who do you think
killed your Mr. Stoddard?

[ Door closes ]

Hello!

Well, you seem a lot calmer.

Well, the walk
was pleasant enough.

But let's make
one thing perfectly clear...

Under no circumstances

is that dog to be allowed
in that bedroom.

No.

You, Pistachio,
will sleep on this bed.

You lie down here.

[ Whining ]

Come.

[ Whining ]

All right.

We know
the murder weapon to be

a curved pair
of grooming scissors,

and three of our suspects have
been unable to produce theirs.

Mr. Melrose claims
that he has lost his.

Mr. Christopher denies
ever owning a pair,

and Mrs. Frizzel claims
that she's buried hers.

She was certainly
telling the truth, sir.

We dug up the dog Horace.
These were buried with him.

Oh.

And the other contestants
claim that Mr. Christopher

took pride
in not cutting Duke's hair.

Bragged about it, in fact.

Leaving Mr. Melrose
with no scissors

and no explanation
as to where they have gone.

And, sir, with Horace
out of the way,

his dog Kaiser

could possibly leap
right to the top of the podium.

[ Barking ]

MURDOCH: Pistachio!

Why would she do that, sir?

I have no idea.
What did you just say?

I said Kaiser could

leap to the top...

Pistachio!

Well-trained animal, sir.

Detective, would you mind

if I borrowed
Constable Jackson again?

I'm sure he would
leap at the chance.

[ Barks ]

All right, George.
That's enough.

Take this dog, and these.

Come on, Pistachio.

Detective, this case of yours...

Cases, actually, plural.

You believe there
to be a connection?

I don't know.

You've of course considered
that these may be people

who don't wish to be found?

I have, but I'm not sure
I believe that to be the case.

Still, with no new evidence...

That is what
I am endeavoring to find.

And as far as I'm concerned,
finding a missing person

is of equal importance
to solving a murder.

Are you saying you would rather
I didn't

squander your resources?

No, no.

As long as you understand that
there may not be a solution.

I don't expect any of this
to end well.

But with murder,
there is certainty.

Without certainty,
there is hope and...

Well, hope can be
a terrible thing.

- Doctor.
- Detective Watts.

William, I have something.

When we further investigated
Mr. Stoddard's body,

we discovered this

in the coagulated blood
around his wound.

A hair?

The hair of a dog.

And I believe I know
which dog it belongs to.

NEWSOME:
Now, be careful with those.

- Oh, Henry Higgins!
- Hello, Miss Newsome.

How perfectly wonderful
to see you again.

- I knew you'd come around.
- It's... It's not like that.

You don't have to be shy
with me, Henry.

Come along. Perhaps we could
share a martini cocktail.

It's not a social call.

Oh. Well, what did you
want to talk to me about?

Ruth Newsome,
you're wanted for questioning

in the murder
of Beaumont Stoddard.

A strand of your dog's hair
was found

in Mr. Stoddard's wound.

How do you explain that?

I really can't say.

I believe your grooming scissors
to be the murder weapon.

You don't believe I could
do something so horrible?

Yesterday, you showed me
a pair of scissors

that were not unlike
the ones used.

Did you procure a second pair
to cover your tracks?

Oh.

Oh, this is
rather embarrassing.

I, um, dropped my pair
somewhere in the arena

and Roger was in desperate need
of a little trim.

Searched everywhere,
couldn't find them,

so I borrowed Sebastien's.

I completely forgot
that they weren't mine

when I brought them in.

I hope I haven't caused you boys
too much trouble.

- Excuse me.
- Mm.

Henry, please ask Mr. Melrose

if the scissors
that Miss Newsome surrendered

are indeed his.

Sir, I think Miss Newsome
may be telling the truth.

She's not the sharpest tack
in the box.

Well, the case remains that her
scissors killed Mr. Stoddard.

Are we really gonna charge her?

She doesn't seem capable
of stabbing anyone.

Miss Newsome,
you're free to go.

Oh, thank you.

That's just enough time
for Roger and I

to get ready
for the competition tonight.

Now, please remember,
a killer is still at large.

Be mindful of your dog
and also of yourself.

Perhaps Constable Higgins
could accompany me home?

- Absolutely.
- Oh!

- Come along.
- Sir!

- Let's go.
- Uh...

Do you remember Miss Sykes?

She was one of
a dozen or so homeless

who stayed here after the fire.

Did you know that she'd
been reported missing,

that she had a family that was
desperately seeking her out?

- I had no idea.
- Well, she's still missing.

I'm sorry to hear that.

When was the last time
you saw her?

Sometime mid-May.

Where was this?

On the street.
She was walking with a woman.

What woman?

I don't know her name, but I'd
seen her before in the church.

Describe her.

Tall, maybe in her 40s.

Blond?

Yes.

Thank you.

Would you mind coming to the
station to assist with a sketch?

Certainly.
After Mass.

My notes.
Where are they?

Sir, I transcribed them.

Brilliant.

Let me see here.

Lynn Clark.

Last seen in the company
of a tall blond woman

in her middle years.

We have our first suspect,
Jackson.

And it's a woman.

Sugar and spice
and everything nice.

Excuse me, sir?

I always wondered
how they came up with that.

Never believed it myself.

So Ruth Newsome
took Mr. Melrose's scissors

without asking, which is
why he didn't have them

and didn't know
where they were.

And a hair from Miss Newsome's
dog was found in the wound,

making her actual scissors

almost certainly
the murder weapon.

Somebody else
could have picked them up.

Perhaps Mr. Stoddard
discovered who the poisoner was,

confronted him,
threatened to expose him.

The poisoner
then followed Mr. Stoddard,

picked up
Miss Newsome's scissors,

once they were out of
the arena, stabbed him.

So that would mean
the dog poisoner

and Stoddard's murderer
are one and the same.

Exactly.

Pistachio looks to have
made herself quite comfortable.

Mr. Dubois. Glad to see
you've made a full recovery.

Well, not full,
but hopefully well enough

to keep up with Pistachio
on the course tonight.

Pistachio, come.

Oh, we won't be needing any
of those items. Just the leash.

Oh. Right.

Have you determined
who poisoned Pistachio's food?

Not yet.

And Mr. Stoddard's murder?

Unsolved, unfortunately.

Well, Godspeed.

And thank you for taking such
good care of her, Detective.

It was no trouble at all.

Take care, Pistachio.

You be a good dog, now.

DUBOIS: She always is.

Thank you again.
And good day to you.

Good luck
with the competition tonight.

[ Whines ]

[ Barking ]

[ Growls, barks ]

Sir.

You must be a little sad
to see her go.

Not in the least.

Now that she's back
in proper hands,

we can concentrate
on more important things.

[ Clears throat ]

Right. There are two
possibilities, George.

The killer and the poisoner
are one and the same,

or they are not.

But either way,
we know for certain

that both of these crimes
are connected

to this competition.

Well, Pistachio and Kaiser

are the two main contenders
for best dog in show,

with Roger and Duke
following closely behind.

Maybe the perpetrator will
make another attempt today.

ANNOUNCER: And now the bulldogs,
ladies and gentlemen.

Particularly handsome group
this year, as you can see.

Beautiful breed.

You are distracting the dogs,
Detective.

This area is designated
as a calming area

for dogs and handlers only.

I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Dubois,

but it is necessary
that I be here.

- I'm on police business.
- Nonetheless.

Come!

[ Whining ]

ANNOUNCER:
Thank you to the bulldogs.

- [ Applause ]
- And now we have the hounds.

First up is Duke,
a three-year-old basset hound.

Weighs in at 60 pounds.

Height at shoulder,
14 inches.

Owner and handler,
Buck Christopher.

[ Applause ]

What in the blazes?!

What are you doing?

I was returning this
undercoat rake I had borrowed.

With permission!

- Julia.
- William.

Miss James made a discovery

that could have some bearing
on this case.

What is it?

She analyzed
Mr. Dubois' stomach emissions

and found that, along with a
minuscule amount of strychnine,

there was a large quantity
of ipecac.

- Ipecac?
- Yes, it's an emetic.

It would have caused
the vomiting,

ensuring that he didn't die
from the strychnine he consumed.

So, what you're saying is...

Mr. Dubois was never
actually in danger.

He was trying to throw
suspicion off of himself.

ANNOUNCER:
Thank you to the hounds.

[ Applause ]

MURDOCH: Mr. Dubois,
stop right there!

It was you.

You poisoned
Mrs. Frizzel's dog.

Well, I-I did no such thing.

I believe you did.

And I also believe
you killed Mr. Stoddard.

- You have no proof of that.
- I have enough.

- [ Gasps ] Oh, my goodness!
- Mr. Dubois.

- Stand back.
- Let her go.

- You're coming with me.
- I don't think so.

Pistachio! Leap!

- [ Barks ]
- Oh!

You stay.

[ Barking ]

Good girl.

CONSTABLE: Stay back, please.
Stay back.

Sit.

Mr. Dubois killed Horace,

motivated simply
by a desire to win.

But why kill Mr. Stoddard?

Mr. Stoddard discovered who was
responsible for the poisonings.

As competitive as he was,

he believed
in playing by the rules.

He confronted Mr. Dubois,
threatened to expose him,

and was killed for it.

It's a shame Pistachio
won't get to compete,

after all her training
and hard work.

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no.
Absolutely not.

No.

Owner Miss Ruth Newsome
and her very distinguished

American Staffordshire terrier,
Roger.

Looking fine, Miss Newsome.

Of course the dog
will need a new home.

It just...
It seems a little soon.

I know.

Mr. Sebastien Melrose
and his English setter, Kaiser.

[ Applause ]

But do remember that Mr. Dubois

is the villain
in all of this, not Pistachio.

And finally, Pistachio,
the Labrador retriever,

squired by novice trainer
Detective William Murdoch.

Oh! Bravo! Bravo!

[ Whistling loudly ]

CRABTREE: Sir.

Still looking
for your travel journal?

Well, the trail has gone cold.

But I am not one to give up.

The CN Tower!

Looks like
a spaceship on a stick.

Once the world's tallest
freestanding structure,

built right here
at Front and John.

You, my friend,
have a vivid imagination.

I didn't dream this stuff up.
And now I must stay the course.

Canada is turning 150,

and I am not gonna miss
the party.

[ Clicks cheek ]

[ Whistles "O Canada" ]

Did he say
Canada's turning 150??

He did.