All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S05E02 - Back and to the Left (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

Subtitling made possible by
Acorn Media

[suspenseful music]

♪♪

Ah, pleasure to meet you.

Pleasure to meet you.

Thank you for your support.
Enjoy the parade.

Hello, there.
How are you?

Well, Mr. Hidell,

no one can say that Toronto
doesn't love us now.

As for members
of the Orange Lodge,

yes, Mr. Mayor.

As for our policies
at City Hall,

that's up for debate.

Not today, it isn't.

Gentlemen.

When the parade
turns onto Queen Street,

keep your eyes open for anyone
concealing their hands-.

Handkerchiefs, newspapers,
hands in pockets,

that sort of thing.

Sir, you're taking the threats

against the mayor's life
seriously?

We can't take any chances,
George.

Sir.

Another summer,
another bloody Orange parade.

At least the crowd
looks cheerful.

That's because they're all
Protestants around here.

Just wait till the parade
cuts through Corktown.

See how cheerful
everybody is then.

Why does the parade
have to go through Corktown?

It's all about rubbing
the Catholic noses in the dirt,

me old mucker.

Take away the Catholics,
there's nothing to parade about.

[clock bell tolling]

[cameras clicking]

[gunshot]

That was a bloody gunshot,
Murdoch.

- Driver!
- Go! Go!!

Get!

This is good.

Mayor Hopkins, are you hit?

The bullet just
passed through.

Oh.

Yes, sir, I'm afraid it did.

- George.
- Detective.

Sir, we're getting
conflicting reports.

Some people think the shot
came from this direction.

Other people think
that it was from here,

behind these packing crates.

- No, George.
- What they heard was an echo.

Let's see.
The carriage was here.

So the shot
must have come from...

there.

Was that a gunshot
I heard just now?

It was. Where were you
when you heard it?

I was on the stairs.

I was coming down
to see the parade.

- Your name, ma'am?
- Judith Lance.

Have you see anyone else
on these stairs?

Well, a man passed by
with a carpet a few moments ago.

Check the upper floors.

- You, there! Stop!
- Identify yourself!

- Leonard Bowers.
- What's your business here?

- I'm the janitor.
- What's happening?

Have you seen anyone else
here in the last few minutes?

No, sir.

Higgins,
check the fourth floor.

All right.

Who are you?

Toronto Constabulary.

What's your name,

and what business do you have
in this building?

- Clay Miller.
- I own this building.

Do you have a key
to this door?

- Yes.
- Yes, of course.

- Sir.
- What have you, George?

The building
is mostly empty, sir.

Everyone was likely outside,
waiting for the parade.

There was a janitor
on the third floor landing.

- What's his name?
- Leonard Bowers.

- That's right.
- He works for me.

Mr. Miller...

Who rents this space?

No one at the moment.

A shell casing, sir.

No sign of the shooter, sir,

but the door to the roof
was open.

He likely went
down the fire escape.

Nevertheless, Henry,

have constables do a thorough
check of the building.

Mr. Miller, you have a camera.

Did you take any photographs
prior to the shooting?

I did, yes.

Then I'll be needing
your camera.

George, Henry, confiscate
every camera out there today.

Yes, sir.

We found where the shot
came from, sir.

What about the shooter?

Must have slipped away
with the crowd.

Bloody hell.

Well, let's round up
the usual troublemakers.

Who would they be, sir?

The Irish Catholic, of course.

Sir, I'm Catholic.

Are you a troublemaker?

Start with the known agitators,
and let's see where we are.

You were found
two blocks from the shooting.

What were you doing there?

I was waiting
to see the parade.

Why would a Catholic man

want to watch
the Orangemen march?

I love a good parade.

You were arrested
last year for inciting a riot.

You once threatened
to firebomb the Orange Lodge.

I've seen the error
of my ways.

Where were you
between 11:30 and noon?

I was having lunch
with a friend.

Sean Gallagher's his name.

Mr. Gallagher, are you
at all familiar with Liam Cuddy?

- Indeed I am.
- I've known him almost 20 years.

- Oh.
- When did you see him last?

Sitting in your hallway,
wondering what he's doing here,

like the rest of us.

Before that?

We were having a pint
and a beef stew

at Murphy's lunch counter.

Until what time?

Until shortly after noon,
I'd say.

Sir, I've conducted...

Detective Murdoch,
I see you've returned.

- Chief Constable.
- Yes, I have.

Congratulations
on your promotion.

Yes, that's right.

You left town
before I was appointed.

Quite suddenly, as I recall.

Almost as if you were
fleeing justice.

What have you got, Murdoch?

Sir, I've interviewed all
of the known Irish agitators,

and all of them claim alibis.

Well, it'll take a couple
of days to check them all out.

And until you do,

all of the suspects
remain in custody.

That's impossible.

My jail cells
are fit to burst as it is.

One of these men
is the killer.

Which means
the rest of them are not.

We detain them all,

it could cause riots
in the streets.

Do you really want a re-creation

of the Battle of the Boyne
in Toronto?

Well, have it your way.

But find me the killer,
and soon.

This is a Protestant city.

The Irish Catholics are not
the only people who can riot.

William!

Julia.

- I'd heard you were back.
- You look...

Uh, well, you're-
You're married now.

I-
Um...

Do I look that different?

- No, no, of course not.
- What I meant to say is...

Well, my best wishes
to you and Darcy.

- Well, that's very kind of you.
- Thank you.

And I apologize
for not being able to attend.

I think I understand
why you didn't.

Julia-.

We must accept the decisions
we've made, William.

It's the only way
to move on with our lives.

Now, how can I help you,
Detective?

[clears throat]

Have you completed
your postmortem

on Alderman Hidell?

It's being done as we speak.

My protégé, Dr. Grace,
is taking the lead on this case.

Your protégé?

She's more than capable,
I assure you.

Death was instantaneous.

The bullet entered
the victim's right temporal lobe

at approximately 22 degrees.

It deformed immediately
after penetration,

resulting in the massive wounds
transecting the brain.

But I'm curious.

What kind of bullet
can enter a man's skull,

cause extensive internal damage,
and yet not exit the cranium?

Certain high-velocity rounds

tend to deform faster
upon impact,

leading to less penetration.

In this case,
it was a centerfire 30-30.

Hmm.

Who would use
this type of ammunition?

Hunters, farmers, sportsmen.

But you, of course,
knew that already.

Dr. Ogden tests me
at every turn.

Please don't feel
you have to do the same.

Dr. Grace, Detective Murdoch
is among the best in his field.

This comes from experience
and deserves respect.

- It's quite all right, Julia.
- Julia?

- Yes. Please excuse me.
- Dr. Ogden.

Please, William.

Is the bullet's trajectory
through the mayor's hat

consistent with the entry wound
in Alderman Hidell's skull?

The bullet

passed through the hat
at an angle of 12 degrees.

But entered Alderman Hidell's
skull at 22 degrees.

It is my theory that
at the moment of impact,

Alderman Hidell's head
was tilted

ten degrees to the right,

perhaps leaning
into the conversation.

Hmm.

A single shot, then,
intended for the mayor

but killing
Alderman Hidell instead.

- That would be my conclusion.
- Dr. Ogden?

I concur.

Very good.

Dr. Grace,
it was a pleasure to meet you.

Thank you for your insights.

Dr. Ogden, once again,
my regards to Darcy.

Sir?

What have you, George?

The first batch of photographs
from the confiscated cameras

and some slides and prints.

There's still a roll
of moving picture film

that needs to be developed.

- Anything of interest?
- Yes, sir.

See this chap
in the background here?

I believe you interviewed him
earlier today.

- Yes, George.
- That's Liam Cuddy.

He told me he was nowhere
near the building

at the time of the shooting.

I'd say that carpet
he's carrying

would easily conceal a rifle.

Most people would handle
a rifle cartridge

with their thumb,
index finger,

and possibly
their middle finger.

Now, the print I've recovered
from this shell casing

is the wrong pattern

and too small
to be a thumb print.

But...

It's just the right size

to match Liam Cuddy's
index finger.

So we have our man.

Not anymore.

I convinced the chief constable

to release all of them
earlier today.

- On what basis?
- Not enough evidence.

But here it is.

And I'll be sure
not to let him go this time.

Toronto Constabulary!
Liam Cuddy, show yourself!

Go on.

[gasps]

On your feet.

- Who are you?
- Marianne Cuddy.

You have no right
to trespass like this.

Where's Liam?

- I don't know.
- He left for work this morning.

Crabtree,
check the rest of apartment.

Liam has done nothing wrong.

He lied to an officer
of the law

investigating a murder.

We have proof
he was in the area

just before the shooting.

- What shooting?
- The Orange parade.

Don't play
silly buggers with me.

I'm Catholic.

I don't pay any mind
to that parade.

I wasn't there.

I found this in the closet.

Ah.

A centerfire 30-30.

Imagine that.

Liam would never
shoot anybody.

It wasn't him.
He was set up.

If you wish to help Liam,
tell us where he is.

I honestly have no idea.

We had him, locked up,
and what did we do?

We let him walk out, of course.

Just brilliant.

Sir, we had no more reason
to hold Liam Cuddy

than any other suspect.

Send out an alert
to all stations.

I've taken care of that.

Sir, the late edition
already has the story,

with a picture of Liam Cuddy.

How did they know
he would be our suspect?

First to tell the story
sells the paper, George.

Good thing.

With his face
all over the city,

it shouldn't be too difficult
to pick him up.

Again.

Crabtree, I want you, Higgins,
and every available constable

out on patrol
looking for Liam Cuddy.

Sir.

Well, get a move on.

Aren't you glad
you came home, Murdoch?

It seems to me that
the whole Orange Day parade

just smacks of being
a sore winner.

How so?

Well, every year,

the Protestants want to remind
the Catholics

that they lost a battle.

One battle 200 years ago,
George.

Ah, it's a simple show
of pride, Henry.

Ugh.

- [men shouting and laughing]
- Whoa!

Good evening!

You call that pride, George?

There's nothing
on Liam's whereabouts yet.

Any luck with the rifle?

Yes, sir.

I've lifted two sets
of finger marks,

Liam Cuddy's
and his wife, Marianne's.

And judging by the residue
in the barrel...

[gun clicks]

The gun was fired very recently.

So that's it, then.

Enough to put a rope
around Liam's neck.

Yes, sir, I suppose it is.

[men grunting]

[punches landing]

Hey! You there!

- What's that all about?
- Crabtree.

- Oh, my God.
- It's Liam Cuddy.

Mr. Cuddy, can you hear me?

- We'll get you some help.
- I'll be right back.

You're gonna be all right.

- It wasn't me.
- What did you say?

I'm just a patsy.

George, did you get
a good look at the men

running from the alley?

No, sir.

I just found these
around the corner.

Looks like the killer
discarded the evidence.

Do you think he was
deliberately targeted, sir?

Detective Murdoch.

I heard on the call box
that Station House Three

just arrested
a gang of Orangemen

for assaulting
an Irish Catholic, sir.

One of them
wasn't wearing any shoes.

Or boots.

Listen, I was the one
who got beat down.

I was going home after pints,

and a bunch of God-loving
Catholics knocked me down,

took my boots.

How do you explain
your arrest?

Well, I chased after them,

and by the time
I caught up with them,

my mates were already
swinging fists

with these bastards!

Then the police show up,
haul me off,

and the only thing I got
was my arse kicked

and my boots stolen.

Those aren't mine.

- Try them on.
- I insist.

- So I'm a size ten.
- What of it?

Same as half the men
in this city.

With Liam dead,
someone saved the Crown attorney

a pile of work.

If we assume his guilt, sir.

All we have at the moment
are two unsolved murders.

If I may say,
I think we should consider

Liam Cuddy's dying words.

He dismissed himself
as being just a patsy.

Yes.

What the bloody hell's
a patsy?

It's an Irish expression, sir,
for "unknowing dupe."

Well, that's bollocks.

We've got Liam's finger marks
on his rifle

and on a shell-casing recovered
from the scene of the crime.

He bare-face lied
about where he was

at the time of the shooting.

He had "guilt" written
right across his forehead.

Exactly, sir,
which is why I find it odd

that he would only admit
to being a patsy.

I mean, as a Catholic,

is he not supposed to confess
his sins before he dies?

Crabtree, has it ever
occurred to you

that a murderer
can also be a liar,

even to the Great Almighty?

Yes, but shouldn't we
give Liam

the benefit of the doubt

before we condemn him
posthumously?

Show him the photograph.

Sir, this is a picture
of Liam Cuddy

entering the Miller building.

Look at the reflection
in this window.

It's the City Hall
clock tower.

Note the time, sir.

One minute after 12:00.

How's that?

Both: It's a reflected image.

- Right, right.
- So it's one minute before noon.

That's pretty tight, isn't it?

Did Liam Cuddy have time
to enter the building,

set up his rifle, take the shot,
all in less than 60 seconds?

You better find out.

According to the photograph,

he was standing
roughly here, George.

Sir, shall we assume
the rifle is loaded?

Otherwise, it might add
about four seconds

to our timeline
inside the building.

Right.

Assume it's loaded
for the first run.

The first run?

Oh, boy.

- All right, George.
- On my mark.

Go!

[watch ticking]

Take time to line up
a proper shot.

Bang.

- All right.
- Stop there, George.

I thought we'd time the escape
as well, sir.

No need.

We're already
at the 75-second mark.

It's unlikely Liam Cuddy
had time to make the shot.

Let alone escape
from the fourth floor.

Exactly.

Yet a witness claims
to have seen a man

running up the stairs
with a rolled-up carpet.

I was right here
on the third floor

when he passed me by.

On his way
to the fourth floor.

Yes.

He was in such a rush,

he nearly hit me on the head
with the carpet.

But he apologized.
I thought that was very nice.

And what then?

Well, then I continued
downstairs to catch the parade.

That's when
I heard the loud bang.

You heard the gunshot

after the man passed you
on the stairs?

Yes, that's right.

Thank you, Mrs. Lance.

Sir, if the gunshot came
from the second floor

while Liam Cuddy was on his way
to the fourth floor,

there's no way he
could have pulled the trigger.

He was a patsy.

So it would seem, George.

Mrs. Lance was standing
on the third-floor landing

when Liam Cuddy passed by her.

That was before
the shot was fired.

You think she's
a reliable witness?

She seemed fairly sharp
to me, sir.

And you know for a fact

that the shot came
from the second floor?

It's consistent
with the angle of the shot

through the mayor's hat

and the relative height
of the two men.

It's also where we found
the spent shell casing.

Which you now think
was planted.

There's no other
explanation, sir.

Liam Cuddy was set up.

A little due diligence
could have uncovered this

before we announced Cuddy
as our chief suspect.

We weren't exactly given
the opportunity, were we?

This is bad news.

The city believes
we've got the killer.

The Orangemen are calm.
The Catholics are cowed.

If this gets out,
it could set them all off again.

And the parade has been
rescheduled

for two days from now.

Could be a blood bath.

We need to re-interview
all the witnesses.

Who provided Cuddy's alibi?

I don't think we're looking
at a Catholic, sir.

And how's that?

Sir, if the shooting
was motivated

by hatred toward
the Orange Lodge,

why then set up
a fellow Catholic?

Yes, you lot do like
to stick together, don't you?

This doesn't get out.

Conduct your investigations

as if you're tying up
loose ends.

Is that understood?

The liver is a treasure house
of information.

Even a cursory inspection
of this man's liver

tells us he was
a heavy drinker.

Further analysis
will no doubt confirm it.

So why have you chosen
to work here,

as opposed to the land
of the living?

I don't have the patience

to adopt a cheerful
bedside manner.

And you, Doctor?

I suppose I see myself
as an agent of the law.

Detective Murdoch and I

have brought many criminals
to justice.

I found it
to be richly satisfying.

"Found" it?

- Oh, yes.
- I meant "find" it.

Like I said,
I don't know anything.

Mrs. Cuddy,

I understand your reluctance
to speak to the police.

I, too, am Catholic.

It's my intention
to clear your husband's name.

But I need to know everything
he's told you.

He came home wild with fright.

He showed me a rifle
he had wrapped up in a carpet.

He said he found it
at the office.

Which office?

Where he was delivering
the carpet to.

The rifle was just leaning
against the desk.

Why did he take it?

It was his rifle.

He recognized it.

What was it doing there?

Someone must have taken it
and put it there.

He was set up.

Yes.

A regular Patsy Bolivar,
he was.

I can prove it too.

This is his waybill for
the carpet he was delivering.

It's says right there,
"Must deliver by 12:00 noon."

Now, why would they say that

if they didn't want him
to be there right at that time?

Yes, that's my carpet.

I had it sent out
to be cleaned.

It was delivered
by Liam Cuddy.

I never received it.

Hmm.

Did you ask for it
to be delivered

to your fourth-floor office
before noon?

I believe I did.

I couldn't expect my staff
to miss the Orange parade

waiting for a carpet
to be delivered.

Don't you find it strange

that the man
delivering your carpet

is the same man accused
of an assassination attempt

on the mayor?

I imagine that was his excuse
for being there.

You took this photograph,
did you not?

I did.

May I ask,

what were you taking
a photograph of?

I guess I was just
recording the day.

Oh.

So I suppose
we're just lucky

that you happened to take this
photograph at this exact time.

May I ask the purpose
of this interview?

Just tying up loose ends.

Sir, I spoke
to Liam Cuddy's boss.

Apparently, he left the
carpet cleaners at 11:00 a.m.

It's hardly a 20-minute walk
to Mr. Miller's office.

Then he should have arrived
well before noon.

I wonder what took him
an hour.

Perhaps someone held him up.

We were having a pint
and a beef stew

at Murphy's lunch counter.

Until what time?

Until shortly after noon,
I'd say.

Mr. Gallagher,
this photograph was taken

shortly before noon yesterday.

What of it?

You claim you were with
Liam Cuddy until after noon.

So I was wrong about the time.

I bought the man lunch.

I wasn't lying.

Do you often buy him lunch?

I wanted to talk with him.

What about?

Liam was a firebrand.

He liked to stir things up
with the Orangemen.

As a businessman and leader
of the Irish community,

I felt obliged
to impress upon him

that his behavior was
in conflict with our interests.

I thought I had succeeded.

Is Gallagher involved, then?

I have no proof, sir.

But I can't think
of a better way

to time Liam Cuddy's arrival
at the murder scene.

You think he set him up?

He knew where Liam lived,
had access to his rifle.

The question is, why?

Why would he set him up?

Sir.

I arranged the photographs
chronologically.

I've noticed something
very interesting.

See these two chaps
in the background here.

Note that this man is pointing

in exactly the same direction
as these witnesses are here.

This photograph was taken
after the shooting.

Yes, sir, but this one
was taken beforehand.

He's pointing to where
the shot came from,

before the shot was fired.

That's Alderman Ketchem.

And look who he's speaking to.

Do you recognize
those sideburns?

Curious.

Now, what would a warehouse
stacker like Jack Leary

be doing chatting up
an Alderman?

They're both Orangemen.

Oh, but they're not
like Masons, sir.

A man like Leary
wouldn't mix with the toffs.

Right, then, George.

Look into why an aldermen might
want to have the mayor killed.

But remember, be discreet.

As far as anyone's concerned,
Liam Cuddy is our only suspect.

Sir.

And, George, there was
a moving picture of this.

When will that be developed?

I'll check into it, sir.

[projector clacking]

[knock at door]

Sir, I believe
I've discovered something.

As you know, a few years back,

City Council appointed
a Board Of Control,

comprised of three aldermen.

Well, sir, according
to my sources at City Hall...

What sources?

Well, sir, my Aunt Petunia
works at the lunch counter

where the mayor
takes his meals.

So she says she overheard
the mayor

speaking with a colleague

about how he thought the board
had become too powerful.

He was going to break up
the Board Of Control,

and I think that's why
they tried to kill him.

Who is "they," George?

Well, sir, everyone who stood
to benefit from the status quo:

Business owners, contractors,

the members of the board
themselves, of course,

the whole-.

Call it the municipal-industrial
complex.

George, the victim
was part of the board.

Well, sir, it's my belief
that Hidell was the only one

who was not
one of the conspirators.

- Hold on, Murdoch.
- Crabtree may be onto something.

The Board Of Control
oversees lucrative contracts

worth millions of dollars.

There are powerful interests
at stake.

Right, then, George.

Bring in Alderman Ketchem
for a conversation.

Sir.

Who were you speaking with
in this photograph?

I don't know his name.

What were you talking about?

- I don't recall.
- Why?

He's a suspect in this case.

I thought you had
your suspect.

We believe more than
one person was involved.

What were you pointing at?

I don't remember.

It was the open window
the shot came from,

before it even happened.

Are you suggesting I somehow
had foreknowledge of this?

The mayor wanted to break up
the Board Of Control.

As a controller, you stood
to lose a great deal of power.

[scoffs]

Even if one were to accept
your absurd premise,

I'd have been no further ahead
by killing the mayor.

How's that?

His replacement would
have been the head controller,

Alek Hidell.

Alek wanted to break up
the board too.

Could they both
have been targeted?

With a single bullet, sir?

Two birds with one stone.

Even if it were
physically possible

to penetrate both skulls
with a single bullet,

both skulls would have to be
in perfect alignment.

Hard enough to set up,

even if the victims
were cooperating.

And why bother?

If the intention
was to kill both,

then why not simply
keep shooting

until the task was done?

[projector clacking]

The bullet entered

the right side
of Alderman Hidell's skull.

Now that we've removed
the calvaria, the skull cap,

and pulled back the dura,

you can see that the bullet

travelled in a downward
trajectory,

stopping just above
the left ear.

It's that downward angle
that troubles me.

It's inconsistent
with the bullet's trajectory

through the mayor's hat.

Well, Dr. Grace speculated

that his head was tilted
to the right

at the moment of impact.

But it wasn't.

You see,
both men are facing forward

just prior to the shot.

My goodness, you're right.

Now watch.

As the bullet strikes,

the mayor's hat pitches forward
and to the right,

and Alderman Hidell's head
goes back and to the left.

It's as if the bullet entered
from this side,

reversed direction,

and instantaneously
went through Hidell's head.

A magic bullet.

Or there were two shots
coming from opposite directions.

Impossible.

Both men are seated
side by side.

To shoot one, you would have
to shoot the other.

Unless...

Julia, this photograph was taken

at the exact same moment
as this frame,

but from
a slightly different angle.

If we were to merge the two
using a stereoscope...

You could reproduce
the illusion of depth.

Very clever, William.

- Julia.
- Have a look.

Oh, my goodness!

Look, William.

They're not sitting side by side
after all.

They couldn't have been shot
by the same bullet.

No, the bullet
that killed Hidell

came from the left.

And the bullet that went through
the mayor's hat

must have come from the right.

You were right.

There were two shooters
after all.

You never cease to amaze, Julia.

We've always made a good team.

- Two shooters?
- Yes, sir.

The bullet that killed
Alderman Hidell

came from
Clay Miller's building,

but the bullet that passed
through the mayor's hat...

Actually came
from behind the packing crates

on the other side
of the courtyard.

Exactly, George.

Sir, what I assumed was an echo
was, in fact, a second shot,

which would explain the angle
of the bullet's path

through Hidell's skull.

It didn't come
from the second floor.

It came from the third floor.

So who else
was in the building

other than that old girl?

You say you were
on the third floor

at the time of the shooting,
and yet you saw nothing.

That's true.

What were you even
doing there at that time?

I thought Mr. Miller
gave his employees time off

to watch the parade.

- Just the office folk.
- I'm the janitor.

Oh.

And how long have you been
at the job, Mr. Bowers?

Mr. Miller hired me
two weeks ago.

Is he our triggerman?

One of them, I believe,
but we have no proof.

- What's the plan, then?
- Keep the janitor in custody?

For now.

George and Henry
are going through his room.

In the meantime, sir, I find it
curious that Clay Miller

is connected to this incident
in so many different ways.

Mm.

That's right.

I hired Leonard Bowers
about two weeks ago.

Good worker.

Why was he not given
the same time off

as your other employees?

- He was.
- I suppose I forgot to tell him.

Mr. Miller, you had a carpet
cleaned and delivered

by a supposed assassin
at a very specific time.

You took the photograph
that proved

that man was in that building
at that time.

Haven't we discussed this?

Liam Cuddy wasn't the shooter.

Our prime suspect is now the man
you hired barely two weeks ago,

the same man
that remained in the building

when all of your other employees
went outside.

[laughs lightly]

Are you suggesting

I conspired to kill
Mayor Hopkins?

Mayor Hopkins
and Alderman Hidell, yes.

I don't even know Hidell.

And the mayor?

He's one of my closest friends.

Hell, I funded his campaign.

He's not my only friend either.
I have a lot of friends.

Ask your chief constable.
He's one of them.

- Sir.
- A moment?

Have a seat, Mr. Miller.

Retrieved from
Leonard Bowers' room.

It's a center-fire 30-30.

We also found this, sir.

It's a membership card
for the Toronto Rifle Club.

Very good, George.

That's not all, sir.

Guess who else
was a member there?

- Enlighten me.
- Shoeless Jack Leary.

So we were
in the same rifle club.

What of it?

You also know
Alderman Ketchem.

What were you two
talking about there?

I don't remember.

What's he pointing at?

Pigeons.

- Pigeons?
- Now I remember.

We had a nice conversation
about pigeons.

Interesting fact:

Did you know that pigeons
mate for life?

[chuckles]

We've got nothing
that will support a charge

and less than a day
to hold them.

Oh, bloody hell.

And that's your case
against these men?

Are you both mad?

- Sir, I-
- Let me summarize, if I may.

You've arrested a man because
he was a member of a gun club.

You've arrested another man

because he was a member
of the same gun club.

Oh, and he once
wore socks outdoors.

You suspect Clay Miller

because he had
his carpet cleaned.

And Alderman Ketchem
is clearly a suspect

because he points at pigeons.

Am I missing anything here?

Sir, the fact that
there were two shooters-.

Tells me that there's
one other person involved.

One, not the baker's dozen

that you seem intent
on conjuring.

So who is
the second shooter, then?

Someone from the Catholic
community, obviously.

They were the ones
making threats.

Against the mayor.

Why target Alderman Hidell?

I don't know.

But what I do know is that
your evidence against these men

is laughably inadequate.

He's right, you know.

We don't have enough evidence
to hold them much longer.

[clock chimes]

Bloody hell.

We'll be releasing them
just before the parade.

This might sound like
a daft question, Murdoch,

but do you care for a drink?

Thank you, no.

I thought the Klondike might
have loosened you up a bit.

It'd do you good.

[clock bell tolling in distance]

[clock ticking]

[indistinct chatter]

Well, that's my philosophy,
anyway.

Whenever there's time,
always have a drink.

That's what I say.

Especially
with that bloody Giles

snooping around all the time.

He has us on notice, Murdoch.

[clock bell tolling]

Live for the present.
That's what I say.

'Cause one never knows.

[clock bell tolling]

[guns clicking]

[gunshot]

Sir.

Both shots were meant
to coincide

with the twelfth stroke of noon.

Why?

To make us think there was
just one shot, I suppose.

- But why?
- Why was it necessary?

Well, to make us think that-.

Bloody hell, Murdoch.

They wanted us to think
they were shooting at the mayor.

When, in fact,
they were shooting at Hidell.

And only Hidell.

But why go
to all that trouble?

Why not just bash him
over the head in a dark alley?

They wanted Alderman Hidell's
death to appear accidental,

as though he were struck
by a misguided bullet

intended for the mayor.

So what's the motive?

Alderman Hidell
was the head controller, sir.

The head controller
reviews all city contracts.

Perhaps he stumbled
across something.

George!

Sir.

Bring in all of Hidell's files

and subpoena
Ketchem's files as well.

At this time of night, sir?

Wake up a judge
if you have to.

Sir.

What have you, George?

An undertaking

by the city-owned
Toronto Waterworks

to expand the city's pipelines.

Guess who was awarded
the contract

to oversee the project.

Clay Miller.

And the contractor hired

to build the sewers
and water supply lines was...

Sean Gallagher.

George, who authorized
this project?

Alderman Ketchem.

You allocated over $600,000
of taxpayer money

to a waterworks initiative.

That seems
a bit excessive to me.

Is that so, Detective?

I didn't know you were an expert

on the costs
of city infrastructure.

I'm not.

But Clay Miller
was the highest bidder,

and you awarded him
the contract.

I imagine some pockets
were lined with that.

This deal is rife
with corruption,

and your colleague
Alderman Hidell

found out about it.

You have no proof.

I have
Alderman Hidell's files.

Something I never
would have looked into

had his death
been an accident.

But it was murder,

and you will be going to jail.

You can follow this trail
as far as you want, Detective,

but you will never pin
Hidell's murder on me.

- We have a motive, sir.
- Yes, a motive.

But all our evidence
is entirely circumstantial.

We need a confession, Murdoch.

Sir, I think I know
how to get one.

Mr. Gallagher,
we know you're involved.

If you're willing to talk,
we'll make a deal.

You wouldn't
be offering a deal

if you had any evidence.

Perhaps.

But that's the trouble
with conspiracies.

The chances of getting caught
increase exponentially

with every added person
involved.

How many were involved
in this?

Alderman Ketchem,
Clay Miller,

the two shooters.

And that's just the ones
we know about thus far.

It only takes
one person to talk.

And if that's not you, Sean,

the noose goes
round your neck as well.

What kind of deal?

They needed a patsy.

And who better than
a known Catholic rabble-rouser

to deflect the real reason
for the assassination?

How did you find
your shooters?

Clay Miller knew one of them.

He'd hunted with him.

Said he was the best shot
he'd ever seen.

[over recording]
Miller said the best place

to do it
was during the parade.

What with the death threats
the mayor had been receiving,

he was sure the police...

It was all Clay Miller's idea.

And not look our way at all.

It was a foolproof plan.

Well, gentlemen,
it would appear

that you were right,
and I was wrong.

That's big of you to admit.

So I suppose we can continue
with murder charges

against Alderman Ketchem,
Clay Miller,

and our two shooters,
Bowers and Leary.

But not Sean Gallagher,
as per his plea bargain.

Yes.

It's a pity that a guilty person
has to go free.

But that does
tend to happen here, doesn't it?

Gallagher is not free, sir.

He framed a member
of his own community for murder.

They'll likely kill him
before the others hang.

At the very least,
he's a ruined man.

Sounds like justice to me.

[knock at door]

Julia.

I hear you've solved
your case.

Thanks in a large part to you,
as per usual.

Yes, well,

I'm afraid you'll have to rely
on Dr. Grace from now on.

I beg your pardon.

I'm leaving, William.

I've decided to set up
my own private practice

here in Toronto.

Are you quite sure?

- Your value here is-
- We both know why, William.

If we'd forgotten,

we were reminded of it
the last few days.

I just can't.

I'd hoped to leave
before your suspension was up.

But I had so much to teach
Dr. Grace, and...

well, I did want
to say good-bye.

So...

Good-bye, William.

Good-bye, Julia.

And thank you.

For what?

For being honest.

Above all,
I have always respected that.

Always.

[melancholy music]

♪♪

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