All language subtitles for murdoch.mysteries.s12e07.1080p.bluray.x264-rovers

There were several reports, sir.

But there was some confusion

as to whether people heard
one shot or two.

Now, this is where the call
about the body came in.

A police call box.

Did the caller
identify themselves?

No, sir.

Sounds like the Hogshead Tavern
is letting out, sir.

Why do people do this,
George?

And why the "wahoo"?

Well, there are
several variants, sir.

There's "wahoo," "yahoo."

I believe in Texas they say...

. "'yee-haw."

Still quite warm.

Sir, look.
Blood.

I killed him.

It's just a graze.
You're very lucky.

If I was lucky, the dead man
would be under arrest,

and I would be unscathed.

I think given how events played
out, I was rather unlucky.

Yes.
How did events play out?

I came upon him unexpectedly
in the alley.

He was drunk and belligerent.

I tried to avoid him,
but he came straight at me.

How frightening.

He drew a pistol from his coat.

As I lifted my arm to block
the shot, he pulled the trigger.

What happened then?

We fought for control of
the weapon, and it discharged.

I tried to save him,
but he died within seconds.

I'd never killed anyone before.

It's a terrible feeling.

The first time I ever killed
someone up close face-to-face

was in the line of duty.

Came at me with a knife.
Had no choice.

Troubled me all the same.

And you say
you didn't know this man?

- Not that I'm aware.
- Did he recognize you?

I don't know.

What are you thinking,
Murdoch?

Well, I-I would certainly
like to know his motive.

What motive?
He was drunk and belligerent.

Sir, the man drew a pistol
and shot.

Agreed.

It was more than the average
Saturday night donnybrook.

Do you remember anything else?

What he said?
How he looked at you?

My only true memories
are scattered impressions.

Anything else
would be my own invention.

I'm sorry,
I wish I could tell you more.

Well, we need to learn
the identity of the victim.

Victim?

Oh, yes.
Of course he's the victim.

Look, Watts...

Go home.
Take tomorrow off.

Go for a walk in the park.

Get your mind off this.

Yes, I-I think that's best.

Julia, could you oversee
this one?

It's not that
I don't trust Miss Hart.

I understand.
I'll let her know.

Thank you.

- What have you, George?
- Sir.

I've identified two sets
of fingermarks on the weapon.

Detective Watts and the victim?

That's correct.
I found four casings.

Two had been fired.
Two bullets were still in there.

The only slightly odd thing
about that

is this revolver is built
to take five.

Other than that,
I lifted a partial thumbmark,

but it belongs to neither man.

The gun could have
been borrowed, I suppose.

Or stolen.

Good point.
He's likely a criminal.

Check the photographs.

We have
a citywide directory now.

- Get Henry to help you.
- Sir.

Have I lost your confidence,
Detective?

Miss Hart.

You yourself have in fact
complimented me on my abilities.

A police detective
has killed a man

under suspicious circumstances.

It's not my trust at issue.

It's the trust of the mayor,
the chief constable, the public.

I see your abilities.

They see a young, inexperienced
woman who is not yet a doctor.

Let's begin, shall we?

Yes.

Powder burns on wound opening
are consistent

with Detective Watts' account.

Very close range...
Within inches.

The bullet
has yet to be extracted,

but the opening is consistent
with a .38-caliber weapon.

As far as time of death,

rectal temperature
recorded at 93 degrees.

Ambient temperature
recorded at 62 degrees

and diminishing at a rate...

Your estimate is all I require.

I wanted to be sure
Dr. Ogden was confident.

I have complete confidence
in your method of calculations.

Time of death?

Midnight,
give or take 30 minutes.

Is that in accordance
with your expectations?

It is.
Thank you.

Let's continue,
shall we?

What's become of this city
that a-a policeman

would be targeted
in a-a murderous attack?

Higgi... Pete's sake!

Higgins! Wake up!

It's Higgins-Newsome,
if you don't mind.

Higgins, that's the third time
you've nodded off this week.

Is married life
really so boisterous?

It's not that.
I took a second job.

You? You barely have
enough energy for one.

I know.
But it's been hard on Ruth.

She's not used to penury
of the sort

that you and I
are accustomed to.

Her hairdressing bill alone
is half my wage.

Well, maybe she should
start doing her own hair.

I don't know, George.

She's already given up truffles

and her chocolate delivery
service...

Chocolate deliv... Right, then,
what's this job you've taken?

Night watchman.

- Sounds easy enough.
- I thought so too.

I was hoping I'd be able
to sleep there,

but they've got
these hellish new machines

that I have to punch every hour
on my rounds.

Well, you can't sleep
here either, Higgins.

If you're going to have
another job,

it should be one
that has you home by bedtime.

- There are none.
- That's bollocks.

I've been looking
for a mechanic

for the auto repair shop
for weeks now.

There are plenty of jobs if
you're a mechanic or a doctor.

I have no skills.

Maybe you need to get some.

Or better yet,
invent your own job.

Should I invent someone
to pay my wages too?

Higgins, what do people want?

What can you supply?
What are you good at?

- I'm a good singer.
- Anything but that.

I once won a contest for
reciting the alphabet backwards.

Higgins, you are also
the co-owner of an automobile.

That just gets me to the job
that I don't have faster.

Yes, but perhaps it
could get other people

to where they need to go.

Like a cabbie?

A motorized cabbie.

How do I get customers?

Drive down the street yelling,
"Cabbie for hire?"

You could.
Or you could advertise.

You could get one of
those messaging services

to dispatch your calls.

Maybe.

Wait a minute, Higgins.
Turn back.

What?

That's him.

Who?

That's our victim, Higgins.
You fell asleep on him.

Nigel Baker.

Murderer, recently released.

That's him.
That's my son, dear God.

I'm sorry for your loss,
Mr. Baker.

When did
you last see your son?

We were at Hogshead Tavern
with his friends.

Celebrating his release.

He left shortly before I did.
About 11:00.

Your son attacked and shot
a police detective.

What?

And he was killed
in the ensuing struggle.

How? Who?

A Detective Watts.
Does that name sound familiar?

No.

Can you think of any reason

why your son
would do something like this?

My son wasn't treated
very fairly by the police.

He was convicted
on bad evidence.

Yes.

But the conviction
was overturned.

He was out on the street,
a free man.

But he still lost
four years of his life.

Hardly a reason
to shoot at a police officer.

I know
you're trying to understand

what happened, Detective.

I'm sorry I can't help you.

It doesn't make sense.

That's the trouble with you,
Murdoch.

You insist on the world
making sense.

Sir, people don't just go around

shooting someone they don't know
for no reason.

What if he just wanted to?

What have you, George?

Sir, a case file
for Nigel Baker.

Apparently, he was some sort of
gang leader in the west end.

- Reputed to be ruthless.
- West end.

That's Watts'
old stomping ground.

I'm surprised
he didn't recognize him.

George, that murder conviction,
who was the victim?

Sir, this man.

Daniel Marks.
20 years old.

Lived in the same neighborhood
as Baker.

Apparently, Mr. Marks
had reported on a robbery

that Nigel Baker had committed,

and presumably
Baker killed him in retaliation.

I also found out
that Nigel Baker

was at the Hogshead Tavern
until 11:00.

And by the time he left,
by all accounts,

he was well into his cups.

Detective Murdoch.

You've determined
the fingermarks on the weapon

were from Mr. Baker's
right hand, correct?

Correct.

And Detective Watts
claims that the gun

was still in Baker's hand
when it discharged?

I believe they were
both struggling

for control of the weapon.

Well, Miss Hart has discovered
something quite interesting.

Miss Hart?

If what the detective said
is true,

the bullet would have traveled

from the victim's right
to his left

from point of entry.

But I tracked
the path of the bullet

and found
that it had in fact traveled

from his left to his right.

Right.

You're Baker.

You're trying to shoot me,
and I'm trying to stop you.

Bam! Ha ha!

Bloody hell, Higgins!

Are you all right, sir?

Oh, Henry...

We're trying to demonstrate
how the weapon discharged,

not engage in an actual fight!

Sorry, sir, but it's what
he would have done.

One of them would have, sir.

They were in a fight
for their lives, were they not?

I hate to say it,
but he does have a point.

Out the way, Higgins.
Let the dog see the rabbit.

Right, then.
So...

What if Watts
did give him the knee?

You're Baker.

You're taken by surprise.
Your arm relaxes.

I turn it round.

Yes, sir, but at no point does
the gun come around far enough

to shoot him from the left.

So I have to wrest that free
to be able to do that.

So, Watts had control of
the weapon when he shot Baker.

Odd that he didn't
mention that.

Perhaps he thought
it was too incriminating.

That's what worries me.

Sirs, I just spoke to John.

He said Watts was in a hurry

when he left the station
last night.

And he was heading
for the Hogshead Tavern.

That's where Nigel Baker
was drinking that night.

Bring him in, Crabtree.

- Put this away.
- Sir.

Yes, I was going
to the Hogshead.

Why?

A man claimed
he had information for me.

- Regarding?
- He didn't say.

Nor did he give me his name,
if that's what you're wondering.

Could it have been Nigel Baker?

Are you thinking
I was lured there?

- Did you know Nigel Baker?
- I knew of him.

He was one of
those troublemakers

from St. Patrick's Square.

There was a gang of them.

Last I heard,
he'd been convicted

of murdering a young man
from the neighborhood.

Yes. The conviction
had been overturned.

I should have known that,
I suppose.

Do you recall
the Daniel Marks case?

Of course.

I was just
a constable at the time,

but I took an interest.

Did you work the case?

No. Not directly.

Although we all helped out.

It was outrageous
what he did to that poor man.

Did you know Daniel Marks?

Not to speak to.
He lived up on William Street.

So you had no particular
grievance with Nigel Baker?

Are you asking
if I shot him on purpose?

Whose hand was around the pistol
when it discharged?

- His.
- Are you certain?

Of course I'm not certain.

Memories are
fragmentary impressions at best.

The mind moves
like a flock of starlings.

It's hard to pin down a thought,
let alone a memory.

Why are you asking?

Have you found a discrepancy
in my account?

Nigel Baker was shot
from the left side.

And you want to know

if I wrested the gun from
his grasp and then shot him?

Yes.

If that's
what the evidence shows,

that must be what happened.

What I can tell you
with absolute certainty

is I did not shoot Nigel Baker
with malice aforethought.

I'm not sure Detective Watts
is capable of lying.

Even to save someone's feelings.

In my experience,

anyone is capable of lying if
the incentive is strong enough.

Have you ever lied to me?

- Never.
- Is that a lie?

I suppose it's possible,
but I honestly can't remember.

Julia, do you remember
your fight with Eva Pearce?

More than I care to.

Every detail?

Well, I was
in a fight for my life.

And I've relived that moment
countless times.

It's fairly emblazoned
in memory.

Detective Watts had
a similar fight with Mr. Baker.

They wrestled for a gun,
and Watts killed him.

That's still self-defense.

Yes, but Detective Watts claims
not to remember that.

And you want to know
if that's possible?

Yes.

Well, it's certainly unusual,
but every mind is different.

HMS Cabbies!
How regal.

It stands for Higgins-Newsome
Motorized Service.

Well, congratulations,
Higgins.

You're now
your own best employee.

Higgins-Newsome?

George.
Did you find out anything?

Sir, I'm not sorry
Nigel Baker is dead.

Indeed.

He was one of those chaps who
is cruel just for the fun of it.

He tortured Daniel Marks
before he killed him.

Did you find out
why the verdict was overturned?

They didn't say, sir.

I gather it's something
of an embarrassment for them.

All it says in the file is that

the murder weapon was no longer
of evidentiary value.

Interesting.

Who do you know well over
at Station House Number One”?

I used to work
with Constable Baxter.

Right. See if he's willing
to discuss it with you.

Also please bring in
Nigel Baker's father.

- Sir.
- Thank you.

Right then, I'll head over
to Station House One.

You collect the father.

Henry?

I'm sorry to trouble you again,
Mr. Baker.

I won't take up
much of your time.

I'll be happy to help you,
Detective.

Any way I can.

I want to know why your son's
conviction was overturned.

Because all of the evidence
they used to convict him

was manufactured by the police.

How so?

All of the evidence they had
on Nigel was circumstantial

except for what they claimed
to be the murder weapon.

- Which was?
- A knife. My son's.

He never denied owning it.
He had it for years.

And how did they determine this
to be the murder weapon?

There was a thumbmark
on the blade

that belonged to Daniel Marks.

- Well, that would be damning.
- And it was.

But Nigel was adamant

that the police
put the thumbmark on that knife.

My son was never above
evading the truth,

but I could tell that
he wasn't lying this time.

And so we got a court order
to reexamine the weapon,

and we found
that the victim's thumbmark

was indeed on the murder weapon.

It was from the wrong hand,
Detective.

The police were so corrupt
and hell-bent

to prosecute my son...

...they were stupid.

Higgins-Newsome.

- Sir.
- Any luck, George?

Sir, "luck" is not the word.

Not only did Constable Baxter
remember the disputed evidence,

he was the reason it was
disputed in the first place.

Go on.

Apparently,

the victim's right thumbmark
was found

on the blade
of Nigel Baker's knife.

Yes, I've heard the same.

Right, and a deep gash
on Daniel's right hand

suggested he had
grabbed the knife

trying to prevent
further attack.

With that evidence, they had
Nigel Baker dead to rights.

So, what happened?

So Constable Baxter
is cataloging evidence.

He has the knife there
on his desk.

There's some sort of melee
outside, he goes to help.

By the time he gets back,

the thumbmark has been
wiped clean of the blade.

And without the thumbmark,
there would be no way to prove

it was the murder weapon.

Baxter was beside himself,
but...

...another constable told him
he would take care of it.

I should have told you.

- You replaced the thumbmark.
- It wasn't difficult.

The victim's corpse
was still in the morgue.

Clearly a bit more difficult
than you had thought.

You replaced it
with the wrong thumb.

I get left-right mixed up.
Same with east-west.

Up-down, north-south,
I'm quite good at.

Why would you take
such a risk?

To the case?
To yourself?

Because it was my fault.

I was the one who told
Constable Baxter

to leave his desk.

To aid
with the melee outside?

Baker's boys had started it,
obviously.

It was an idiot trap,
and I was the idiot.

I had to make it right.

It wasn't right, of course.
It destroyed the case.

And it's now destroyed
my career.

He fixed evidence?

That would explain
why he seemed so evasive.

He didn't want us to find out.

Well, you can't blame him
for that.

Could mean the end of his job.

It also explains why Nigel Baker
attacked him.

How did Baker know that Watts
would go down that alley?

It's the shortest distance
from Station House Four.

It saves him having to
go down to Queen Street.

So Nigel Baker called Watts

and lured him
to the Hogshead Tavern.

He then confronted him en route,

no doubt intending to return to
the tavern to secure his alibi.

Sirs.

I just spoke
to Constable Baxter.

There is no way
Watts put that thumbmark

back on the knife blade.

Why's that?

Watts said he got that thumbmark
from the morgue,

but he couldn't have.

By that time, the body
had already been transferred

to the funeral home for burial.

Why would he lie about that?

I don't know,
but I telephoned the mortician.

He said it was a closed casket.

He said the only people who
would have access to that body

would be immediate family.

And they are?

There's only one,
a brother... Hubert Marks.

Lives in a boardinghouse
up on Pembroke Street.

Right.
Let's have a word with him.

Detective.

I just spoke to another boarder.

He says Hubert does some work
as a street sweep.

- Should be back by nightfall.
- We'll have to come back.

Sir, look at this.

He was a look-alike twin.

My God, it would be hard to
lose a brother in such a way.

Do you suppose
this is another brother?

Not a brother, George.

Oh, my God.
Detective Watts.

I remember this.

It was taken shortly after
I moved in.

You lived with the Marks twins?

The landlady's family took me in
after my parents died.

Odd that you didn't mention it.

Well, I knew
what you would think.

And what's that?

That I had reason
to kill Nigel Baker.

- Did you?
- Did I have reason?

Nigel Baker tortured
and killed a man I...

A man who was in every way
my brother.

Someone who deserved
my protection.

I had ample reason
to kill Nigel Baker.

But as I have already made
clear, I didn't recognize him.

So did I kill him
with intention? No.

Am I sorry he's dead?
No, I'm not.

To be honest, even if given
the chance to exact my revenge,

I'm not sure I'm capable of it.

Obviously, my philosophy
rejects the very idea.

No one asks to be
the way they are,

not even boys like Nigel Baker.

"Boy"?
You knew him as a child?

He was the same age
as Hubert and Danny.

Lived a few doors down
on William Street.

Even then, you could tell there
was something wrong with him.

Most bullies have a purpose
in their torment.

They seek status, protection.

Nigel Baker was only happy
when he could cause pain.

He delighted in it.

And boys like Hubert and Danny,

they were
fodder for his cruelty.

You were their protector.

When I could be. I reported
his deeds to his father.

But Mr. Baker could never
accept the truth about Nigel.

Poor sweet boy.

Higgins-Newsome.

Sir, I spoke
to Hubert Marks' landlady.

She said he left
the night before last.

Threw everything
in a gunnysack.

- Where was he headed?
- He didn't say.

Mm, that's interesting.
Why would he leave town?

And on the night
of the shooting.

Perhaps Hubert Marks
shot Nigel Baker?

George, on the night
of the shooting,

you said
there was some confusion

about how many shots
were heard.

That's right. Most people
heard two, some only heard one.

And then there was an elderly
lady who said she heard three,

but she might have been
a bit daft.

I believe three shots
were fired that night.

George, when you went back
to the alley,

did you find the bullet
that injured Watts?

Yes, sir,
embedded in the alley wall,

just where you said
it would be.

I'd like you to go back there

and see if you can find
a second bullet.

Sir, right away.

Right, then, Higgins...

Oh, bloody hell!
Where is...

Oh, for Pete's sake.

On the night of your
confrontation with Nigel Baker,

some people reported hearing
one shot, others two.

And one person
reported hearing three.

Is this a riddle, Detective?

Can you explain it?

All right,
one shot was separated in time

from the other two.

Only one person
heard all three.

No reason to think
the two are related.

It was Saturday night.
Bars were closing up.

This is Toronto, Watts,
not the Wild West.

I believe all of the shots
came from the same gun.

Why is that?

We found four cartridges
in a five-shot revolver.

I can't speak to that.
I never loaded the cartridges.

No, but you removed one.

You received a telephone call
that Hubert Marks

was calling
from the Hogshead Tavern.

He was intent
on killing Nigel Baker.

Hubert, listen to me.

You couldn't
talk him out of it,

So you told him to stay
at the tavern and wait for you.

Just wait there!

Nigel!

So shoot!

You haven't the guts.
Neither did Daniel.

Hubert. Hubert.

Hubert.
Hubert, give me the gun.

Give me the gun.

You have to leave Toronto.

I had to do it.

He had to pay
for what he did to Danny.

Yeah.
Have you got money?

$31.

All right.

You take this.

Go to Union Station,

take the next train to Buffalo,

and... and find
a cheap boardinghouse.

Send me a postcard
to let me know you're all right,

but don't put your name on it.

I'm sorry, Llewey.

I'll find you.
All right?

Now, go.

No, none of that happened.
But it is an engaging theory.

I may have guessed the details
but not the substance.

Hubert Marks killed Nigel Baker,
and you've covered it up.

How do you account
for the two extra shots?

Now, go.

You needed to
make your story convincing.

And you needed witnesses
to report hearing two shots

in quick succession.

So you fired off another.

That left three empty casings
in the gun.

So you removed one.

And you placed Nigel Baker's
fingermarks on the weapon.

Well, I suppose your theory

is consistent with the facts
as you know them.

But so is my account.

Hubert Marks
left his place of residence

on the night of the shooting
and hasn't been back since.

He didn't return to his job
the next day,

and according to his landlady,

he left carrying a gunnysack.

Yes, a man he'd helped convict

had just been released
from prison.

I'd want to
make myself scarce too.

- Where is he?
- I'm not my brother's keeper.

Nigel Baker was killed

by a man in full possession
of the murder weapon.

I've explained that.

Your explanation
makes no sense!

Watts,
he may not even be charged.

Murder requires mens rea.

He's capable of guilt!

He's a man full of feelings
and insight.

And you're wrong.
I didn't see him that night.

I don't know where he's gone.
I don't know what he's doing.

I stand by my story
and have nothing else to say.

You think I'm lying?
Prove it.

We're looking for a hole
from a .38-caliber bullet.

Now, it may be scuffed over
and hard to find,

so we'll have to look closely.

If Watts was standing
right about here,

then the bullet
may have been discharged

anywhere around here.

What if he shot into the air?

Then our search will be
unsuccessful, I suppose.

Until then,
get your eyes on the ground.

My goodness, John, sometimes
you remind me of Higgins.

Where is Constable
Higgins-Newsome, anyway?

That's something known
only to Higgins-Newsome.

Something smells dead.

That may be from the body
that was here.

I don't think so.

That's Hubert Marks.

John,
go fetch Detective Murdoch.

Two people have been here,
George.

The killer and someone else.

- A man, by the looks of it.
- An accomplice?

Or someone who happened
on the scene after.

Sir.

Bullets.

.38 caliber.

The same as I found
in Nigel Baker's gun.

I don't believe the gun
ever belonged to Nigel Baker.

It belonged to this man.

How did it end up
in Baker's hand?

That is what we're here
to determine, George.

William, what have we?

Oh, dear.

How awful.

He's fully cooled.

Could he have been killed
the night before last?

That would be consistent.

What's your thinking, George?

Sir, I saw photographs
of Daniel Marks' body.

The manner of torment is...

Yes, I believe Nigel Baker
is responsible for this.

Higgins-Newsome.

I'll... I'll be right there.

Sir.

I have some bad news.

Go on.

Hubert Marks is dead.
Nigel Baker killed him.

- Bloody hell.
- That's not the worst of it.

There was a second set
of shoeprints at the scene,

and I believe they may belong
to Detective Watts.

Detective Watts received
the telephone call that night

from Hubert Marks,
who said he was intent

on killing Nigel Baker.

Hubert.

Nigel!

So shoot!

You haven't the guts.

Hubert Marks
confronted Nigel Baker.

Neither did Daniel.

But Mr. Baker
got the better of him.

Nigel Baker forced
Hubert Marks into the shed

and killed him.

Detective Watts
arrived in the alley

just as Nigel Baker
stepped out of the shed.

He entered the shed himself
and found Hubert dead.

He then found Hubert Marks'
revolver and took it with him.

Nigel Baker!

Who are you?

Llewellyn Watts.
Don't you remember?

Hubert and Daniel
were my brothers.

So it was out-and-out murder,
then?

So it would appear.

- Are you Mr. Peartree?
- No, that would be me.

And where would you
like to go today, sir?

Cut it, Higgins. Just take me
back to the station.

My last fare didn't pay,
so I'll need payment in advance.

Pay?! Higgins?!
Are you kidding?!

You should be paying me

for the extra wear and tear
you've put on the vehicle,

not to mention the extra work

I've been doing for you
back at the station.

And of all things, Higgins,

to use our front desk sergeant
as your own personal dispatcher?

I couldn't find
a message service,

and Paddy had no problem
putting through the calls,

so what's the harm?

Truly, Higgins?

I tell you what, we'll ask
the inspector what the harm is.

I guess I'll go back to
being a night watchman, then.

If you're looking for sympathy,
you'll get none from me.

Blast, it's been
giving me trouble today.

You're not kidding.

Where are you going?

- To get my auto mechanic.
- What for? I can fix it.

You can?

It's just this doodad
that's come loose.

"Doodad"?

In behind the...
The thingamabob.

I've only been able
to finger-tighten it,

but when I get home,
I'll use a proper wrench.

It's fine.

So am I to assume
you have your proof?

You had a theory.

Oh, I've since
changed my theory.

I no longer believe Hubert Marks
killed Nigel Baker.

No, that was you.

Well, good. That's what
I've been saying all along.

But I don't believe
it was self-defense.

It was murder.

What?

We found this in a shed

near where you confronted
Nigel Baker.

I believe you were there
that night.

You've since changed your shoes,

but that's
your bloody footprint.

Whose blood?

No.

No.

No.

No!

Do you think it was an act?

No, sir.
I don't believe it was.

He really didn't know
Hubert was dead?

I thought it best to leave him
alone with his grief for a time

before I question him
any further.

Poor bugger.
What a way to find out.

So if Watts didn't kill
Nigel Baker and Hubert didn't,

then who the bloody hell did?

I'm sorry for your loss

and the manner in which
you learned of it.

You should have stuck
with your first theory.

You were right
about everything.

Except Hubert.

You were wrong about that.

You thought Hubert
had killed Nigel and then fled?

Before you brought me back in,
I went to his room.

His landlady told me he'd
packed up the night before.

He'd planned it all out.

He was going to kill Nigel
and then flee.

So when I learned
that wasn't the truth of it...

When Danny was killed,
Hubert was broken.

They'd always had each other.

Danny was the funny one,
always cracking jokes.

Hubert went into a hole.

He was
going to kill Nigel then.

I promised him
that justice would be done,

and I saw to that.

We both did.

It was Hubert
that replaced the fingermark

on Nigel Baker's knife.

I couldn't take the chance

of being seen alone
with the corpse.

As soon as the thumbmark
magically reappeared,

they would have gone searching.

And they did.

And Nigel convinced his father
to petition the courts

to reexamine the evidence.

That's when they found
the thumbmark

came from the wrong hand.

Hubert never could tell
left from right.

One bad piece of evidence
can taint the whole case.

So they threw out
the conviction.

They had to.

So who did kill Nigel Baker?

I don't know.

Come on.

We know that Hubert wanted to
confront Nigel.

And we know how
that confrontation ended.

Someone in his own gang, maybe?

Nigel gets out of jail,
tries to retake control.

He was killed with Hubert's gun.
I recognized it.

Whoever killed Nigel was with
Nigel when he killed Hubert

or happened on the scene
shortly after.

Hubert wouldn't have
confronted Nigel

if he was with someone else.

According to witnesses,

Nigel Baker left
the Hogshead Tavern alone.

Why would he have gone down
that alley in the first place?

It's a shortcut between
Soho and William Street.

It's where Nigel lived.

Who else knows this?

Everybody who lives
on William Street.

It's their family home.
His father still lives there.

His father stated
that he left the Hogshead

shortly after his son.

And he seemed more shocked
at the how

than the fact that
his son had been murdered.

He would have taken
the same shortcut home.

Every parent wants to believe
the best of their children.

I always knew that Nigel
possessed a dark soul.

And I was blind
to the depths of his cruelty.

You believed him to be innocent
of Daniel Marks' murder?

He insisted that the thumbmark

had been placed there
by the police.

And when we learned
that was the truth,

yes, Detective, I believed
my son was innocent.

But it was my doing...

...and my tireless advocacy
that unleashed... unleashed him

and all of his sickness
on that poor young man.

I had to
make it right.

Dear God!

Higgins, do you know
what a flywheel is?

There are wheels that can fly?

Maybe this is
not such a good idea.

Well, I'm not a mechanic,
George.

But you said yourself
that I have

more aptitude for this
than you had thought possible.

That is true.

The rest is just training,
isn't it?

I tell you what...
Half-a-buck per shift

until you know
what you're doing,

and then
we'll bump it up from there.

Thank you, George.
I really appreciate this.

All right, Higgins, but you
can't be your lazy normal self.

- You have to actually work.
- I won't let you down.

Oh, for heaven's sake!

Now, that thingamabob
we were talking about earlier?

The thingamabob,
by the way, Higgins,

is the flywheel.

All right, where is it?

- Here.
- And how does it work?

I'm not taking
your bloody badge.

Put it back.

If I do,
you will be as guilty as I.

I too once faced a choice
between duty and conscience.

I also chose the latter.

We're only bloody human, Watts.

When we're wronged,
we seek justice.

Where is that to be found?

I've been asking myself that.

To be honest, I'm unable
to think of much else.

You seek justice.

I crave it.
If I could, I would demand it.

I want the man who killed
my brothers to feel their pain.

To feel my grief
at what he did to them.

But he's dead.

At the hand of his father.

Did he even know why?

I don't know.

And now the father
will likely hang.

Is that justice?

Of a sort, I suppose.

Then why don't I feel better?