All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - 12x11 - Annabella Cinderella.TBS.English.HI.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

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- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
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I heard as soon as the
jury read the verdict

she launched herself
headlong through the window.

I heard she went mad and
attacked everybody with an axe.

How did she get an axe into a courtroom?

She didn't attack anyone.

Annabella Maloney grabbed a fire
axe to smash a window and escape.

- (TELEPHONE RINGING)
- Perhaps we should spend less time

talking about Miss Maloney

- and more time looking for her.
- Crabtree.

All transit points are covered, sir.

Thank you. Annabella's
been spotted on Bismarck St.

That's all the way
up by Yonge and Bloor.

Well, she may have been trying
to get to North Toronto Station.

If she did... look.

This line goes right through Claremont.

- Her hometown.
- Hold it. Nesbit Daniels' office is at Yonge and Bloor.

You think the lawyer's involved in this?

No stone unturned. You two look into it.

Right.

This lock's been broken.

Someone's clearly been in here.

It looks as though she was
trying to find something.

John, look at this.

The back door is open.

(DOG BARKING IN DISTANCE)

That's her!

She must have climbed over.

- I hear footsteps running south.
- We'll head off! This way!

My truncheon.

John!

Coming!

Stop struggling!

Constable Brackenreid!

I hear you've caught a very big fish.

I'd simply forgotten my truncheon, sir.

Now now, no false modesty, Constable.

Young Brackenreid here noticed that

his truncheon had fallen to the ground,

which means the lid upon which
he rested it must have moved.

Clever deduction.

It's a shame your father wasn't
here to pat you on the back himself.

Inspector Brackenreid will hear all
about this the moment he gets back.

Any idea when that may be?

- Last I heard, he was headed to New York.
- Oh...

Good for him.

Was anything found in
Miss Maloney's possession?

Thirty-six dollars in
cash. Mostly twos and fours.

- Has the lawyer been contacted?
- Yes. Mr. Nesbit will be in shortly.

- Very good, John.
- Thank you, sir.

Do you think I'll get
a chance to meet him?

Who? The lawyer? What do
you want to meet him for?

I followed the trial.
I felt sorry for her.

John, she killed her mother with an axe.

Harriet Rawlins wasn't her
mother. Annabella was a home-child.

- So that makes it all right?
- She was beaten and tortured.

Her home-sister admitted as much.

The home-sister that
Annabella then tried to murder?

Rosemary Rawlins was abusive as well.

That's what made it
such a brilliant defense.

The victim was painted as a villain.

The villain painted as a victim.

- Annabella Cinderella.
- So you're a fan of the lawyer as well?

- He took her case for free.
- Nobody's motives are purely altruistic.

It's all in the service of
his political aspirations.

He's running for Mayor, don't you know?

- Here he comes now.
- Mr. Daniels.

- Detective Murdoch. Thank you for coming in.
- Of course.

I'm aware how this might appear,

but I want to assure you that I
had nothing to do with her escape.

Then what was she doing in your office?

She knew that I kept a cashbox
for out-of-pocket expenses.

She tore apart my office
until she found it.

Any idea how much was taken?

- Thirty
- six dollars.

That's the amount that was found on her.

I'll be sure that you get it back.

Her father was a thief.

The apple never falls far from the tree.

Still, you do your best.

Yeah. Right this way.

Alright, alright.

- Hop on it, John.
- Me?

It's only fair that you see this
through and deliver her to prison.

Thank you, sir. I won't let you down.

Try to make Dunbarton by nightfall.
They have a good hotel for the price.

Sir. I'll telegraph from Kingston.

The Police Investigative Handbook.

Yes. Every Station House is to get them.

I suppose it can't hurt to be apprised
of all the latest developments.

Indeed. I've been very
eager to read this.

Can I at least have a fork?

You may have a spoon.

I am handcuffed to the bedpost.

Oh, you think I'm going to stab you.

I believe the word is thank you.

I'm supposed to be grateful?

There's a lot you
should be grateful for.

Are you pulling my leg?

I'm going to prison. For life.

- You could be at the end of a rope.
- Ha! You sound like my lawyer.

- The lawyer who took your case for free?
- The one who bollocked it.

Instead of proving my innocence,
he tries to excuse my guilt.

- But you were guilty.
- Is that so?

- Were you there?
- No, but your sister was.

Rosemary is not my sister.

- She said she saw you kill your mother. Was she lying?
- Yes.

No, she wasn't. She walked into the room

just as you plunged an axe
into your mother's chest.

- She was not my mother!
- Then you chased poor Rosemary through the house,

out the front door and down the lane.

And you probably would have axed her too

if it wasn't for the
neighbour who came out

and wrested the weapon from your grasp.

Or is he lying also?

Not to mention the evidence.

Your footprints in the blood.
Your fingermarks on the weapon.

You were right to give me a spoon.

It's 10 o'clock.

- Did you get any sleep?
- A little.

Wake me at 2.

It's you.

- The one who hates me less.
- I don't hate you.

I feel sorry for you.

Not you too.

How did you become a home-child?

My father was a thief,

my mother was a whore
and I was a pickpocket.

How did you become a copper?

My father is a police inspector.

Not exactly fair, is it?

Right, I'll settle the
bill. You finish up here.

I need to use the privy.

- Again?
- It's a long ride.

This is where she burned
you with cigarettes.

- Only when I made her mad.
- That's awful.

A lot of things are awful.

You're not, though.

We better... we better hurry.

Let me know when you're done.

How do you know so much about my case?

I read about it in the paper.

I even went to watch on my lunch breaks.

You looked at me once. You
probably don't remember.

You smiled.

Are you done? Annabella?

(KNOCKING)

I'm coming in.

Constable Crabtree!

Constable Crabtree!

- What's going on?
- She handcuffed me to the towel rack.

- She's got my key.
- How?

- She's a pickpocket!
- Unlock yourself. Hurry!

Annabella!

God, I'm such a fool!
Detective Murdoch will kill me.

My father is going
to find out, isn't he?

He certainly will if we don't catch her,

which we certainly won't
do standing around here.

- You believe we can catch her?
- Think. Where has she gone?

I imagine she wants to get
as far from us as she can.

- And how would she do that?
- Ride hard.

Horses tire.

Maybe she's going to hide until dark.

- Where's the nearest train station?
- Pickering is just over a mile away.

Right, so what would
you do? Would you...

ride hard or lay low or take a train?

Train.

Let's hurry.

It's ours, all right. I recognize her.

Alright, well, let's go.

Sir, have you seen a young
lady, freckles, blue dress?

She would have been here
only ten minutes ago.

- Pretty?
- Yes, very.

She asked to buy a ticket on the train.

- Which train?
- Westbound. You just missed her.

- What's the next westbound stop?
- Scarborough Junction.

John, I think we're going to
have to alert the authorities.

- Do we have to?
- Ahem!

I don't think we can keep
this a secret anymore.

- I don't think she's on that train.
- Where do you think she's gone?

Her hometown. Look, it's
only ten miles north.

Claremont? Why would she go there?

Maybe she has a friend
who will give her shelter.

Why was the horse
tied up at the station?

Why didn't she give it a
smack and send it running?

It's how we knew she'd been here.

Why did she ask the ticket man if
she could buy a ticket on board?

You can always buy a ticket on board.

She has no money. She wants
us to think she's on the train.

Alright, here. Take this
to the nearest livery.

Get us two saddles and another horse.

Try not to lose that.

Sir, may I use your telephone?

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

- Station House Four.
- [Watts.]

- Watts, I need you to do me a favour.
- What?

- [We've lost Annabella.]
- How?

Never mind that. I need you to
go to the office of Nesbit Daniels

[and find the names and
addresses of anybody in Claremont]

[Annabella might be possibly
seeking shelter with.]

And Detective...

if you can find a way to
keeping this between us for now.

I understand. Catching
a killer is one thing.

- Losing a killer is...
- Have you read this?

[Goodbye.]

- Not yet. Why?
- It's...

it's unacceptable.

Nowhere in the entire book
is there any mention of...

Unacceptable indeed.

Oof, I need to get some air.

Apparently, she's escaped.

Escaped? Again? When?

- About two hours ago.
- And she's going to Claremont?

We need the names of anyone she
might be seeking shelter with.

If she's going to Claremont,
it's not to seek assistance.

Then what?

The moment she was convicted,

she swore to kill every
person responsible.

- Like witnesses.
- Everybody. Including me.

- Especially me.
- Who's everybody?

You'll need to get the complete
file from the Crown Prosecutors.

I'll call the Claremont general
store and see that people are warned.

Alright.

(SCOFFING)

You see what I'm saying.

It's positively antediluvian.

At best, it's a painful
elaboration of the obvious.

Does it include a single technique
developed in the past decade?

- I don't think it does!
- The identikit.

The tele facsimile. Rontgen rays

to peer inside of objects undetected.

Not a single mention of
Landsteiner's blood groupings?

The very idea of employing
scientific knowledge

as an investigative tool...

entirely absent.

Did they even think to consult us?

(LAUGHING)

- I have to get back to work.
- Myself as well.

It's not as though they could have
been entirely unaware of our work.

The Gazette regularly mentions
techniques that you've developed.

And you're celebrated
in your profession.

William. Hardly celebrated.

You're often cited in medical journals.

- You check my citations?
- Of course I do.

I'm proud of you.

To think that public money
is being wasted on this.

- Are you Constable Crabtree?
- Yes. Did you get a message for me?

Oh, we got a message all right.

Are you the ones that let Annabella go?

We didn't let her go. She escaped.

- And now she's out to kill us all.
- What?

- Who told you that?
- Her lawyer.

- It's what she told him, apparently.
- He called.

- I put the word out.
- I'm Annabella's neighbour, Edmund Mathers.

- The one who stopped her from killing her sister.
- Home-sister.

That's me.

You're Rosemary Rawlins.

This is my fiancé, Robert Duncan.

Alright, did Detective
Watts leave a message for me?

Yes. He said he would be
on the 12:15 from Toronto.

What time does it arrive here?

Five past one.

- Detective Watts.
- Mr. Daniels.

It appears we were on the same train.

Everyone is to be gathered
at the general store,

- which I believe is this way.
- Oh.

Why would Annabella want to kill you?

She hated me.

Why did she hate you?

I had nicer things. I had
a mother who wasn't a whore.

I got to run the store instead
of working in the fields.

Who knows? Maybe she was just hateful.

That's the problem with
these home-children.

They're street urchins.

You can put 'em in a nice house,
but you'll never wash the gutter off.

Though Lord knows Mother did try.

Your mother. I heard she was... abusive.

There wasn't one of them that
didn't get what they deserved.

They should have been grateful.

Instead they stole what they
could, and when they were caught

they would run away and Mother
would have to bring in more.

Criminals, the lot of them.

She was horrible.

Annabella?

No.

Her home-mother.

Annabella was no picnic,

but Harriet Rawlins?

The things she did to those children

would turn your stomach.

She burned Annabella with cigarettes.

She did that to all of them.

And worse.

Why didn't you report her?

Because she, um...

she knew my secrets.

Ah, Detective.

- Mr. Daniels.
- Is everyone here?

- Everyone that we telegraphed about, yes.
- Good.

Lady and gentlemen, my
name is Detective Watts

of the Toronto Constabulary. I
trust you all know why you're here.

The danger Annabella poses
to you all is speculative,

but as they say,
"Better sure than sorry."

You all know me as
Miss Maloney's attorney,

but until she's caught I'll be
assisting the police in any way I can.

If any of you know
anything that might help us,

don't keep it to yourselves.

Do you have a space where
we could speak privately?

- Yes, you can use my storage room.
- Alright.

(SNAPPING FINGERS) With me, Constables.

Thank you very much, Detective
Watts. For everything.

- You as well, Mr. Daniels.
- And I'm terribly sorry about all of this.

Of course you're sorry.

It doesn't change anything, so
don't waste the energy in saying it.

Does Detective Murdoch know?

No, he doesn't. And
that's not the question

you should be asking right now.

- Sorry, I...
- Nope.

- What is?
- How do we find her?

On the train over, I went through
the file from the Crown Prosecutor.

- There's one more person we should protect.
- Who's that?

The doctor who filed the death
certificate and attended the case.

Dr. Beattie was never called to testify.

He provided evidence
that helped convict her.

- Good point. Let's go.
- No.

You stay. This is police business.

Alright.

I'm not saying she's innocent.

I just pointed out
there are other people

who may have wanted to kill her mother.

Which, if they did, would
ipso facto make her innocent.

- Did she say she was innocent?
- She did, yes.

- T'was ever thus.
- (KNOCKING)

(KNOCKING)

Oh my God.

Still think she's so innocent?

- This is my fault. -
It's not your fault, John.

Losing the prisoner was your fault.

This is a merely a consequence.

One cannot be held accountable
for every consequence,

because the consequences of
every action are infinite.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

Your feelings are irrelevant.
It's simply the truth of it.

It does confirm our fears.

The girl's out for bloody revenge.

The choice of the axe was intentional.

She was clearly making a point.

She may be planning to visit
all of her intended victims.

Head back to the store.
Find out where they live.

John and I will join you after
we're done with the crime scene.

What should I do?

Well, this is a doctor's
clinic. Find a thermometer.

Found one.

Here,

take this. Keep it for evidence.

What is it?

- Very likely nothing of importance.
- Then why keep it?

I'll pretend you didn't say that.

Get a pen and paper.

Ambient temperature 76 degrees.

Time... 2:47. He's lightly clothed.

Looks to be about...

160 pounds.

Oh, write that down?

Yes. It affects the algor mortis.

Oh.

A corpse cools at a set rate
according to variables such as weight,

internal temperature
and ambient temperature.

A formula determines the
approximate time of death.

Why are we concerned about that?

Well, as there is no coroner available,

it behooves us to do as best
we can with what we have.

No, no, I mean, we
already know who killed him

and when she must have done it.

You do know our entire system
of justice depends on evidence,

not just casual suppositions of guilt?

- I suppose.
- You suppose?

I mean, yes, of course.

You're right.

For your breathtaking
sloppiness in thinking,

you get to take the
internal temperature.

Not in the mouth.

Hello, I'm Mr. Clements.

Detective William Murdoch.

- My wife, Dr. Julia Ogden.
- Hello.

Your message was urgent.

Yes.

- You are the publisher of this book?
- I am. We are.

- Who is the author?
- I don't know.

(SCOFFING) You don't know?

We are a subsidiary.

Our parent company originally
commissioned the book

for the New York City Police.

Is there something wrong with the book?

This handbook should
represent the latest

- in investigative techniques, wouldn't you say?
- Of course.

- Well, it does not.
- No.

This is your urgent matter?

(LAUGHING)

Whew.

Here is a list of
investigative tools and methods

that should be included
in any such handbook.

- It's by no means comprehensive.
- How do you know of these?

Detective Murdoch developed
most of them himself.

Your book also lacks
any forensic techniques

which should work hand in glove
in any police investigation.

This is a list of forensic techniques
that should've been included.

- And these techniques are effective?
- (SCOFFING)

We've solved every crime
we've ever investigated.

(CHUCKLING)

So if a handbook of these
techniques were published,

- it would represent a new standard.
- I should think so.

This would be unprecedented.

The subsidiary holding
the rights to the standard.

We don't usually publish
original material.

You must write it.

- What? No, no.
- No. We are not writers.

We could perhaps be...

- involved in...
- Consulting.

- Consulting.
- We can consult.

- Yes.
- This is an advance on royalties.

If this becomes the
North American standard

for police investigative manuals,

multiply that by ten.

- Where is Mr. Duncan?
- He's tending his store. He took his rifle.

We were sorry to hear about Dr. Beattie.

Hm.

Robert says if he sees her,
he's going to shoot her on sight.

I'd advise against that.

Detective Watts.

The numbers we found
in the doctor's pocket

look like the numbers we put
down for his algor mortis.

Hm!

- What does it mean?
- It means he'd recently attended a body of his own.

He was a doctor, after all.

I've visited each of the houses.
No sign she's been to any of them.

(GUNSHOT)

- There! It's Annabella!
- Don't shoot!

Dammit, man!

John.

Look.

- Blood.
- She was hit?

It would appear so. Let's look for more.

Congratulations. If you've hit
her and she dies, it's murder.

- Bollocks.
- Not bollocks. Where did you first see her?

She was in my store. I came in
from out back and she bolted.

Do you think she's hurt bad?

Not badly enough.

I can't find any more blood.

I'm worried for her. Is that crazy?

It's not crazy, just stupid, John.

You don't think she would bury an axe

in your chest if she had the chance?

Alright.

She could have gone in any direction.

We're not going to find her like this.

(SIGHING)

Well?

- She's wounded.
- How bad?

I can't say for sure, but
she'll certainly be looking

for a place to patch herself up.

Any house would have the means.

What do you think, Watts?

Is she out there playing
knockyknockyninedoors?

I think more likely she'll
go somewhere she knows.

- Is that the Crown's file?
- Yes.

Let me have a look. I may
spot something you've missed.

I saw that in your office.

It was on the desk. Maybe
she was looking at it.

Hm.

It's a copy of Dr.
Beattie's medical report

from Harriet Rawlins murder scene.

There's his signature at the bottom.

Why would she look at that?

I would guess she wanted his address.

Everyone knows where
the town doctor lives.

- John, read me the numbers we found on the doctor.
- Of course.

11:15.

- That's the time he took the reading.
- 4 over 20.

- That's April 20th, the date.
- One twenty five.

- Her weight.
- 73.2 and 91.6.

Those would be the ambient
and internal temperatures.

- She was trying to prove her innocence.
- How so?

Those numbers give you the
time of death, do they not?

You can work it out if you
know what the formula is.

So maybe she has an alibi for
when Harriet was actually killed.

Maybe she was hoping the
doctor would do the calculation.

Why else would he have the numbers
from Annabella's file in his pocket?

Yes, I see your point, but

- why would she then kill the doctor?
- Maybe she didn't.

So who did?

Harriet Rawlins was dead four
and a half hours at 11:15 PM.

That puts the time of
death close to 6:45.

Rosemary claims she saw
Annabella kill her at 9 o'clock.

She is innocent.

You're saying she was
innocent? That can't be.

You never thought to ask
for the time of death?

There was no doubt of her guilt.

So much evidence
compelled that conclusion,

I focused on saving her from the noose.

Rosemary claims she saw Annabella
kill her mother at 9:00 PM.

- Was she lying?
- But the neighbour corroborated her testimony.

- Is he lying?
- He only saw Annabella

chasing Rosemary with the axe.
He didn't see the actual murder.

That doesn't make her innocent.

If she didn't kill her at 9, she
could have killed her earlier.

I don't think so.

- What's your reasoning?
- The doctor was murdered.

He didn't do the calculation
yet, so she had no motive.

But the real killer did.

Rosemary says she witnessed the murder.

Hm.

- I'll talk to her first.
- May I join you?

I'd like to give her the
cross-examination I should have in court.

You two talk to Robert Duncan.

Find out what Annabella was
looking for in his store.

The two of us, writing a book!

- I can't argue with the logic of it.
- Neither can I.

A comprehensive manual of
the techniques we've developed

would be an invaluable
contribution to crime detection.

But will you have the time?

You're a practicing surgeon,
still overseeing the morgue.

I already make the
time to spend with you.

We'll just put that time to better use.

Very efficient.

It's positively romantic.

I didn't lie. I came home at 9 o'clock.

I went up to my mother's
room to tell her I was home

and I saw Annabella
put an axe in her chest.

I saw it.

With my own eyes.

Why would I lie about that?

- Well, perhaps you killed her.
- My own mother?

- I loved her.
- Nevertheless, your mother was killed

two hours before you came home.

So either you're lying or you're
mistaken about what you saw.

She was standing over her.

She had the axe in her hands.

But you never saw her
bring the axe down, did you?

Could Annabella in fact have been
removing it from your mother's chest?

Then why did she chase after me?

Perhaps Annabella was trying
to tell you the truth...

she'd only just come home herself

and discovered your mother already dead.

She kept screaming for me to stop.

I thought she was trying
to kill me, I really did.

If she's really innocent,

I feel terrible.

Oh my God.

Robert shot her.

She was going through my ledger.

Why?

Damned if I know.

This is the way she left it.

- April 7th to the 21st.
- Harriet Rawlins was killed on the 20th.

Why would Annabella look at
the day her mother was killed?

Did she buy something?
Is that her alibi?

Even if it is, it wouldn't hold up.

Her house is just a few
minutes' walk from here.

Look. This part has
different handwriting.

Perhaps Annabella wasn't so
much trying to prove an alibi.

She was pointing a
finger at someone else.

This is my father's writing. He
mans the store when I'm not here.

Where were you?

I can't recall.

The last entry you wrote was for a
jacket purchased by Edmund Mathers.

What time was that?

- How would I know that?
- Is Mr. Mathers a farmer?

- No, he works at the mill.
- And what time does the mill close?

- Six o'clock.
- So, you wrote that

and left the store sometime after 6.

Does that jog your memory?

Maybe this will ring a bell.

It was right around the time
that Harriet Rawlins was killed.

You think I killed her.

- Why did you shoot Annabella?
- She was getting away.

Or was she getting at the truth?

You've got this all wrong.

Convince me. Stop lying.

Where were you at the
time of the murder?

And don't say you don't recall.

You have to promise
not to tell Rosemary.

It would be the end for us.

You were with another woman.

Yes.

Give me her name. I'll be discreet.

Good luck finding her.

The other woman was Annabella.

If he's telling the truth,
they both have alibis.

And we're back to where we started.

You mentioned others with
motive to kill Harriet Rawlins?

I did?

Oh, right.

Well, he didn't actually
say he wanted to kill her.

- It was more my speculation as...
- Who?

- Mr. Mathers.
- Alright, let's go talk to him.

Mr. Mathers.

Um, you said Harriet
Rawlins knew your secrets.

And from that, you think I killed her?

She knew everyone's secrets.

It's how she got what she wanted.

What did she want?

You name it.

- Are you saying she extorted you?
- She extorted everyone.

Ask her.

She leaned on people for
favours. It was never about money.

Hm. Miss Rawlins?

When we opened up her estate,

we found a safety deposit box with
a thousand dollars in an envelope.

Good Lord. Where did
the money come from?

- I have no idea.
- But you think it could've been

the fruits of some kind of extortion?

- Possibly.
- Was there anything else in the box?

No. Just some documents.

What kind of documents?

Home-children contracts, mostly.

I still keep them in a
box above the pie safe.

John, why don't you escort Rosemary home

- to retrieve the documents?
- Sir.

I must also take my leave.

In light of this new evidence,

I must petition the
courts to reopen her case.

Right. Well, thank you
for your assistance.

Thank you.

What are we playing?

They're right here.

I don't understand.

I kept them right here.

They've been burned.

Annabella?

Why would Annabella want to
burn her home-child contract?

(GASPING)

- What is it?
- Blood.

- (THUD)
- Annabella?

She's trying to escape!

Annabella!

Annabella, stop!

- We know you're innocent!
- Liar!

She was dead when you found her.

That's why you went to the
doctor. To prove it and you did.

She was killed around 6:30.
You have an alibi for that time.

Mr. Duncan told us.

Nobody believed me.

Not even my lawyer.

Well, we all believe you now.

Let's see that arm.

(WHIMPERING)

Why did you burn the
home-child contracts?

Are you protecting someone?
Do you know who killed her?

I didn't burn anything.
Someone else did.

- Who?
- I don't know.

I was hiding.

They came into the house. I
smelled smoke and they left.

- How long ago?
- Just before you got here.

Rosemary, run to the
store. Tell Detective Watts

and Constable Crabtree to
meet me at the train station.

Hurry.

Why are we here, Constable?

Mr. Daniels is our killer, sir.

He knew about the documents and
left ahead of us to destroy them.

Ridiculous. Why would I do such a thing?

- Yes. Why, Constable?
- I don't know. But you did.

And who have I supposedly
killed? Harriet Rawlins?

She was dead before I met her.

Dr. Beattie was dead before I arrived.

Your Detective will attest to that.

Did you meet on the train
or after you arrived?

After.

Go on.

- That's all I have.
- (TRAIN CONDUCTOR YELLING)

Well, that's my train.

It's been a nice chat.

Annabella, I'm happy to continue
to represent you if you choose.

Roll up your sleeve.

I've got a train to catch, son.

Mr. Daniels,

roll up your sleeve, please.

Look, it's just like Annabella's.

You were one of Harriet
Rawlins' home-children.

Odd that you never mentioned that.

- He didn't want anybody to know.
- Why?

No shame in being a home-child.

Unless, of course, you
have political ambitions.

What were you trying to hide?

Were your parents criminals?

You may as well tell us.
It's all going to come out.

My father was a murderer.

And that was the secret Harriet
Rawlins was going to tell the world.

That money they found. You
paid her to keep her quiet.

But she wouldn't have
stayed quiet, of course.

So you killed her.

And then Annabella came
home at just the wrong time.

You became my lawyer just so
you could see me convicted.

I should have let you hang.

- (GRUNTING)
- (MEN GASPING)

(GROANING)

Let's take that train ride, shall we?

(LAUGHING)

So what will you do now?

I'm going to Berlin.

A home-sister has offered to
put me up until I get on my feet.

Oh.

Thank you.

If it wasn't for you, I'd be
spending my life behind bars.

Constable Brackenreid.

You're wanted in the Station.

I saw you in the courtroom, by the way.

I smiled at you.

- I don't know if you remember.
- I remember.

Oh, uh, I don't know,
fellows. That's my dad's.

It's an established
principle that whiskey

belonging to a man belongs to his son.

Oh yes, says so in the
bible. Corinthians, I believe.

To Annabella.

May all criminals be as innocent.

And as pretty.

To Annabella.

(FOOTSTEPS)

I understand you lost your prisoner.

I did, sir.

But you're since recaptured her.

- That's right.
- And it turns out she was innocent.

You found all this out
and caught the real killer.

But none of this would have happened

if you hadn't lost
her in the first place.

Well, I suppose that's true.

Well, Constable Brackenreid,

that isn't generally how
we carry out our work here.

But it seems all's well that ends well.

Good work, John.

Thank you, sir.

- Good night.
- Good night.

I've a toast to make.

- Go on.
- To my father.

May he never find out about this.

Cheers.

So, where would you like to begin?

- How about the title?
- Ah, yes. Yes.

I was thinking...

Crime Detection: Reasoning and Methods.

That's rather dry.

It's what the book is about.

Yes, but there's no point writing a book

if the readers are going to
be asleep before they open it.

Well, what title would
you suggest, then?

I'm not sure, but
certainly not that one.

Criticism without solution is no answer.

Now William, if you
want to become a writer,

you're going to need to
develop a thicker skin.

Fine.

How about a bit of alliteration?

Puzzles and Poisons:

A Diagnosis of Murder?

- Ooh, that's good!
- What?

I was joking. Nonsense!
I'm writing it down.

Puzzles and Poisons...

What was it?

- A Diagnosis...
- A Diagnosis...

I suppose we'll need an introduction.

"Hello. You have
stumbled upon a murder."

- No, William, that's nonsense.
- No.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -