Original subtitles

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"Women's rights champion

Susan B. Anthony

visited Newport this week.

In my capacity

as the Women's and Society reporter,

I was lucky enough to interview Miss Anthony

on behalf of your Newport Observer..."

Oh!

Oh, good heavens,

will that blasted thing never cease to startle me?

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross?

Would you mind seeing to that?

I'm just in the middle of some very important work.

Of course, Mr. Milford.

Hello?

This is she.

This Wednesday?

3:00?

Yes, I believe I'm free to attend.

I'm certain your roses are truly spectacular,

but I can't make any promises.

I do cover many events.

Thank you so much, Mrs. Lehr.

I look forward to seeing you on Wednesday.

You are in high demand this time of year,

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

Yes, it certainly is shaping up to be a busy season.

Perhaps,

but it is you

that all the seasonal residents

are clamoring to have

at their garden parties and such.

Well, I do try to avoid any salaciousness in my writing,

unlike many society reporters in the cities.

Perhaps that's why.

It's because you're one of them,

a Vanderbilt.

They trust you in a way they do no other reporter,

and lucky for us.

Speaking of reporting,

I've nearly finished with a report

about Susan B. Anthony's visit,

which I think our readers will love.

Oh.

Just so long as you stay focused

on what's important.

Sir?

Well, the spectacle, of course.

There's a reason why the women's pages

are called "Fashions and Fancies," after all.

Indeed.

Though I do think many readers are curious

about the sort of reform Miss Anthony touts.

Trust me, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

I know women.

They don't want to read about politics.

Of course, Mr. Milford.

Miss Anthony was...

charmingly clad

in a blue silk gown

with lace cuffs

and simple pearl earrings.

"During her speech,

she maintained

that while proud of the work she's done

to advance women's causes,

it's time for a new generation to step up to the mantle.

It was a truly inspiring afternoon."

I'm pleased with what I wrote.

Whether I'll be pleased

with what Mr. Milford publishes after his revisions

is another matter entirely.

I'm sure it will be wonderful.

Maybe even change some minds.

How do you mean?

Well, my boss at the coroner's office

still thinks the women's movement is a fad,

so dissuading him from that notion

would be a good start.

What was it like speaking with Miss Anthony

one-on-one?

I'd have been so intimidated.

She is quite a formidable woman,

I'll say that.

Did she have any words of wisdom for you,

considering the question that's been front of mind

for you lately?

Of whether I ought to marry and start a family, you mean?

Is there any other for a 21-year-old woman?

She didn't give me any advice, per se,

but she did say that, for her,

it's independence which has brought happiness.

So, in other words,

remain unmarried for as long as you can?

I just hate feeling that I must choose

between having a family

and continuing to do the work that I love.

Do you really love writing the women's pages?

I enjoy it,

and it allows me to make a living off of my writing,

which is a challenge for anyone.

I still think you should write that novel

you've been dreaming about since we were children.

I do romanticize the idea of being that sort of writer,

but I wouldn't know where to begin,

and, even if I did,

Aunt Alice would be aghast.

Surely, you shouldn't let that bother you.

You're only half Vanderbilt.

True,

but even a poor relation like me

publishing a novel

would be considered scandalous.

Pish.

The creative spirit runs through your veins.

Your mother did marry an artist, after all.

Yes,

and now, she fancies herself one as well.

Uncle Cornelius still hasn't gotten over it.

What? It's 5:00 already?

I'm gonna be late for tonight's ball!

Two assignments in one day?

You work too hard, Emma.

Tonight is work and play.

It's a right shame she and your father aren't here.

I mean, aside from missing

Cousin Gertrude's coming-out ball,

they shouldn't be--

--"traipsing around Europe

trying to sell their paintings

when their only daughter's just come of age."

Yes, so you've said repeatedly.

Well,

I don't think it's right

that they left you here to work

to keep the roof over our heads.

Lots of women work these days, Nanny,

and Brady helps when he can.

When was the last time that half-brother of yours

gave you a cent towards the running of the house?

That's not fair, he's between jobs.

Aye.

Emma, you look beautiful.

I fear the gown is doing much of the work.

Wherever did you find it?

It was Carrie Astor's from last season.

Miss Dickerson over at Atelier Bellevue,

she's planning to refashion it into something new.

I suppose that means we have to return it

after the ball?

Unless you have the $75

to buy it from her.

Oh, if only I were an heiress like Miss Astor.

If Brady doesn't arrive soon,

you're gonna have to leave without him.

He'll be here.

Arriving late will not help

in getting the Vanderbilts to accept him.

I don't think anything will.

It's been more than 20 years,

and Uncle Cornelius still treats father

like a nuisance.

Why are you so intent on continuing to try with Brady?

I refuse to accept their snobbishness.

Just because father had a son before he met mother

- doesn't mean-- - Oh!

Stupid thing.

Come here, I'll do it for you.

You look as fresh as a daisy.

And you look like you ran all the way here.

What happened?

The tailors was mad.

Judging by the lines,

everyone in town's gonna be at tonight's ball.

Only the millionaires, if I know your Aunt Alice.

Ah, there you go.

What would I do without you, Nanny?

Oh!

Well, you'd be later than you already are,

for a start.

Off you go!

Thank you, Nanny!

Bye!

Good night.

I was expecting to be greeted by Mr. Mason this evening.

I can't believe Uncle Cornelius dismissed him so suddenly.

Yeah.

The old man was head butler for what, 15 years?

As long as I can remember.

I wonder what could have happened.

Perhaps Cousin Gertrude knows.

Perhaps.

Best not ask her about it tonight, though.

Why in heavens not?

It's her first ball.

Her debut into society.

I'm sure she's a basket of nerves.

Are you sure

Alice and Cornelius

are all right with me being here?

The invitation said I could bring a guest.

Emma...

Emma, you...

you know they don't like having me around here.

It'll be fine.

Thank you.

Oh, Emma!

Hello.

Dear, you look stunning.

I have a few ideas for your dance card.

The Oelrichs' nephew is in town, and--

Oh!

Brady too.

Hello.

Look who it is, Cornelius.

Thank you both for having us.

Of course.

Brady.

Sir.

Emma,

how is your mother doing?

Well, last I heard,

she and father have apparently had some luck

selling their paintings recently.

Oh, that's such wonderful news.

I'd like to hear more about it later.

Look at that dress!

That is divine, dear.

Show me.

You look incredible...

Look at this.

Little Gertie, all grown up.

I'm not little anything, Brady.

I turned 16 last month.

He's only kidding.

You look beautiful.

Very sophisticated.

Thank you!

How wonderful.

It's almost a perfect night.

Almost?

It's a entire ball just for you,

what could possibly be wrong?

Brady, would you be a dear

and take this to the cloak room for me?

Oh, so this is why she brought me.

Only joking.

Thank you.

I'll see you inside.

Now, it's just us.

What's wrong?

Nothing at all, silly.

You can't fool me, Gertrude.

I've known you since the day you were born.

Mother made me swear not to discuss it tonight.

If I tell you,

you have to promise not to tell anyone.

Pinky swear.

Neily's fallen in love, and he's gone absolutely mad.

How so?

Refusing to join our family

to greet our guests, for starters.

Oh.

Well, do you think that maybe he has something--

Gertrude!

I'd like you to come over here.

I'd like to introduce you to somebody.

I'm sorry, I've got to go.

Of course,

but, Gertrude,

remember, it's your night.

Try to forget about Neily and enjoy it.

All right, see you later.

Darling, have you met--

Oh! Pardon me.

Pardon me.

I was so engrossed in my...

I don't believe we've met.

No, I don't believe we have.

I'm--

Miss Vanderbilt.

May I have the pleasure of this dance?

Mr. Goddard.

Thank you, but I'm--

Oh!

I do hope we'll have the chance

to get to know one another properly this season,

Miss Vanderbilt.

It's Vanderbilt-Cross, sir.

Tsk.

You should be more proud of your lineage.

I am, Mr. Goddard.

On both my father and my mother's side.

Of course,

but only your mother's side

owns half the railways in this country.

Indeed,

and what a shame it is

I've no inheritance from it.

Oh...

is that so?

Thank you for the dance, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross,

but I must bid you farewell.

I have some highly confidential railway plans

to return to your uncle's safe.

Well, I'd hate to keep you from your important work.

I wish we didn't have to sneak about.

It won't be forever, darling.

Do you promise?

I guarantee it.

It is rather uncouth, isn't it?

Could we have a word?

Of course.

You do recognize the woman

your cousin, Neily, is with, I take it?

I don't believe so.

It's Grace Winslow.

Granddaughter of Edward Winslow.

Uncle Cornelius' business rival.

Yes,

and he is furious.

Emma dear, I need you to keep an eye on Neily.

Make sure he does not miss the family toast.

I don't want any of this drama

to get in the way of Gertrude's big night.

I'll do my best.

I knew I could count on you. Thank you, dear.

Why does everyone seem to be disappearing this evening?

Emma?

Adelaide!

Oh, it's been so long.

Are you home for the season?

Yes, I've finally managed to convince Rupert

that there's life outside New York City.

Well, lucky for me.

It feels as though you've been gone for so long.

I'm sorry I missed your wedding,

but according to the pages,

it was quite a spectacular affair.

It was lovely,

but it doesn't come close to the splendor of tonight.

Aunt Alice did go all out for Gertrude's big night.

And how.

It's like a dream.

And then you just take off, leaving me to fend for myself.

I'm so sorry, darling.

Emma, may I present my husband, Rupert Halstock.

Rupert, Emma Vanderbilt-Cross, my oldest friend.

Pleased to meet you.

Emma and I used to run through here like rascals

when we were children.

It once took me an hour

to find her hiding in the old playhouse

during a game of hide and seek.

It was all such fun.

I left my cane in the smoking room.

You'll have to go up and get it.

We can catch up later.

I've missed you, friend.

Thank you all for joining us,

and a special thank you to those

that made the trip in from New York and Boston

to be with us this evening.

Celebrating the debut of our eldest daughter

is a very special occasion for Alice and I.

I'm sure I don't have to tell those of you with daughters

just how excited Gertrude has been for today.

I'll ask you to please raise your glass

along with me

to celebrate this special day.

To Gertrude.

To Gertrude.

What are you doing in here?

Mr. Goddard?

Emma!

Jesse, I was hoping you'd be on shift tonight.

Well, when they told me you'd called in the death,

I insisted on coming.

I'm sorry you had to witness such a terrible accident.

Is everything all right?

Are you all right?

Yes, though it was a shock,

and the coroner's assistant, Harriet Rice,

is waiting around back.

What are you doing?

I'm coming with you.

I presumed you'd want my account of what happened.

We can do that later.

For now, it would be really helpful

if you can go inside and alert the staff.

I've already done as much.

Don't worry, I haven't told them anything.

Just that guests should be kept indoors.

What a remarkably level head you have, Emma.

Just keeping the face of something like this.

I didn't want to disrupt Gertrude's big night

until it was necessary.

If the world were different,

what an excellent police officer you'd make.

What have we here?

Detective Whyte.

Dr. Rice, what can you tell me?

Well, the coroner will assess the body more fully tomorrow,

but for now--

male, 30s.

Died from a broken neck.

There's no identification on him.

It's Alvin Goddard,

a Vanderbilt business advisor.

Does the broken neck account for that much blood?

I was just about to turn him over to find out.

Would you give me a hand?

You might not want to watch, Emma.

One, two, three...

I wonder how he got that?

There was a commotion above before he fell.

What sort of commotion?

It sounded like someone surprised him,

and then I heard him say, "What are you doing up here?"

right before he fell.

If you ask me,

the gash on the side of his head is no accident.

Meaning, Dr. Rice?

If I had to guess,

he was hit with something gilded.

If Mr. Goddard was attacked before he fell,

this was no accident.

It was murder.

Where does that balcony lead from?

Uncle Cornelius' office.

Would you mind showing me, Emma?

Of course.

I assume it wasn't uncommon for Goddard to be in the office.

I wouldn't think so.

He mentioned needing to return some confidential papers

to the safe earlier.

Someone surprised him on the way down,

but who...

and why?

Brady?

- Brady? - Brady, are you okay?

That candlestick,

it's gilded, like the flecks in Goddard's wound.

No, you know Brady wouldn't hurt a fly.

He's gotten himself into his fair share of mischief.

Mischief, sure, but never murder.

Plus, he has no reason to want to hurt Mr. Goddard.

- Brady, are you okay?

What is the meaning of all this?

Sir-- Sir, this is a crime scene.

Please refrain from touching anything.

This is my home!

I'll touch what I please.

What happened?

Are you okay?

Where are they?

Uncle Cornelius!

You give me back those plans, boy,

or there'll be hell to pay.

What plans?

The plans Mr. Goddard was returning to the safe.

How do you know about those?

I told Detective Whyte about them.

Mr. Goddard mentioned them to me earlier.

Well, they're not in the safe,

they're not on his body,

which means someone has stolen them.

Probably the same person who threw him off the balcony.

You can't possibly believe that Brady--

Emma, stay out of this!

I will do no such thing.

You're accusing my brother of--

Half-brother,

and you know as well as I

that trouble follows him like a stray dog!

But Uncle, you have to under--

Perhaps it would be best

if Miss Vanderbilt were to wait downstairs.

I'll be all right.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

Please, Emma.

Let's start at the beginning.

This is just awful, mother.

Mr. Goddard's death

is all anyone will remember from tonight.

Yes, well, we mustn't dwell on that right now, dear.

What else is there to dwell on?

Nasty business, this.

Neily.

I feel just terrible for Gertrude.

Now you feel terrible?

What do you mean by that?

You didn't seem to mind upsetting her earlier

by foregoing the receiving line

or missing the family toast.

You don't understand--

I believe I do.

I saw you...

with Grace Winslow.

Brady?

Brady...

No, this... this can't be.

Brady!

Uncle Cornelius, Gertrude, and Aunt Alice

were definitely there.

The notes for your article on the ball can wait.

You should eat.

This isn't for my article.

I'm trying to remember everyone I saw in the ballroom

just before Mr. Goddard was killed.

Whatever for?

They can be ruled out as his killer.

They wouldn't have had enough time

to get upstairs to attack him.

Neily.

What about him?

Aunt Alice asked me

to make sure he was there for the toast,

but I couldn't find him.

Your cousin is no murderer, Emma.

Well, someone killed Mr. Goddard,

and I know it wasn't Brady.

Well, it's not up to you to find out who did.

No,

but if I can rule some people out for Jesse, then--

Well, that's all well and good,

but what the police really need to do

is figure out the killer's motivation.

Is that right?

It's right as rain,

according to my detective novels.

Well, the stolen railway plans

tell me theft was the motive in this case.

Ah, but can you be sure?

Perhaps the theft was secondary,

a red herring of sorts,

like, for someone who wanted Mr. Goddard dead.

A red herring?

It's a false clue.

Something that seems important,

but it isn't.

Arthur Conan Doyle employs them often.

Supposing they were,

who would want Mr. Goddard dead?

Detective Whyte should speak to Mr. Mason.

He's been at The Breakers for years,

he'll know a thing or two.

Of course, Mr. Mason.

Have you heard from him lately?

Don't look so shocked.

I know you two courted years ago.

Yes, well, what of it?

He was dismissed from The Breakers yesterday,

before the ball.

Oh, I had no idea.

Do you think you could discover his whereabouts?

I'll see what I can find out.

Absolutely not.

But, sir, I was there!

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross,

you write on society and women's issues.

Our readers do not want to see your name

on an article about murder.

- Yeah, but-- - In fact, I'm not so certain

they're keen see your name on anything,

given your connection to this incident.

Are you suggesting I no longer have employment here,

Mr. Milford?

What I am suggesting

is that you stay as far away from the scandal as possible

if you want to keep that employment.

I'll do my best.

Make sure that you do.

Now, in the meantime,

I'll be writing about the murder,

and you can trust

that I will be respectful.

I appreciate that, sir.

Very much.

Brady.

You're a sight for sore eyes.

Are they treating you okay?

Yeah.

I'm fine...

but...

Em...

...what's gonna happen to me?

The important thing

is to find out what really happened last night.

Do you swear you didn't steal those plans

from Cornelius' safe?

Of course, I didn't.

So why were you upstairs then?

I was waiting to talk to Neily.

He wanted some advice from me.

Is this about his love affair with Grace Winslow?

Yes.

There's talk of him being disinherited

if he continues on the way he is, and so,

he may need an alternative source of income.

All right,

so you and Neily talked, and--

No.

No, he never showed.

What took you into the office then?

I heard a scuttle.

I-I thought it might be Neily,

but I went inside to check, and no one was there.

Then what happened?

I heard a sound,

a gentle clattering from behind me,

like something falling to the ground,

and then...

...everything went dark.

Someone may have knocked you out.

Turn around.

What?

Just...

- Ow! - Sorry.

Careful.

Sorry!

There's a bump, and...

...and gold flecks.

What does that mean?

Emma.

How are you?

I'm really sorry about what happened last night.

It was... must have been a lot.

Thank you.

Look what I found in Brady's hair.

Gold flecks.

Just like those from Goddard's wound,

and Brady has a goose egg, too.

Someone hit them both.

I'll have them compared.

Thank you.

Not at all.

Jesse, this proves

that someone else was in the room.

It's possible,

but I've been going over the statements

gathered last night,

and there's no guarantee as to who that might be.

Here...

I think I may be able to help with that.

What's this?

A list of everyone I recall seeing

just prior to Mr. Goddard's death.

Those on the guest list who don't appear on my list

are all surely suspects...

...and if you haven't yet found the stolen plans...

Um, we-we haven't.

Then you can likely focus on those guests

who would be interested in matters

pertaining to Uncle Cornelius' railway business.

Brilliant.

Thank you.

Of course.

Anything I can do to help you help Brady.

Speaking of which,

there is someone I suspect might be involved

who you won't find on any list.

And who's that?

Mr. David Mason.

He's the head butler at The Breakers,

but Mr. Goddard dismissed him yesterday.

I'm not sure why,

or what use he would have with the stolen plans, but--

His dismissal gives him motive.

I'll have to speak to your uncle about it.

If...

he'll give me the time of day.

I believe I can help with that, too.

Thank you for seeing me, sir.

Yes, well, my niece can be very convincing.

So, what is it you need from me, Detective?

The stolen railway plans.

I was wondering who else besides you and Mr. Goddard

were aware of them.

I'll leave you two to talk.

This is ridiculous.

It's as clear as day.

Brady did this.

That may be true, sir,

but in the interest of thoroughness...

Two people knew of my plans.

My son, Neily,

and my former butler, Mr. Mason.

Daddy doesn't know what he's talking about.

What do you mean?

Goddard flashed those plans around

to anyone who paid him half a mind.

So, it's impossible to know

how many people really knew about them.

Exactly.

Look, I know it's bad to gossip about people

who are... well, dead...

but I think he liked the attention.

What about Neily?

Does he like the attention

courting Grace Winslow is bringing?

My goodness, there is so much drama about all of that.

What is Neily thinking?

I wish I knew.

Daddy said it's treasonous.

He hoped Mr. Goddard would split them up,

but that's not going to happen now.

Wait, your father got Goddard involved?

That must have made Neily furious.

Are you suggesting that Neily

could have been the one who killed Mr. Goddard?

Just try to ignore the prying eyes.

Easier said than done.

It seems not everyone

is as keen to be associated

with the half sister of an accused murderer,

as you are.

Don't worry,

there'll be something new to gossip over

in a day or two.

Here's hoping.

You know, we've barely seen one another

since you married Mr. Halstock and moved to New York.

Is it as glamorous as you expected?

Yes...

and no.

The city is wonderful,

but I haven't exactly been accepted

by Mrs. Astor and her set.

It's been quite lonely, if I'm honest.

Oh, Adelaide, I'm sorry.

I shouldn't moan about it, given what you're going through.

I knew it would take time

for them to accept an ordinary Newport girl

marrying into their rarified world.

But it's been three years.

All the more reason not to discuss it today.

I asked you here to check in on you.

How are you holding up?

As well as can be expected.

I know Brady didn't kill anyone.

I suspect the true killer knocked him unconscious

and left him to take the blame.

Who would do something like that?

I have a few theories.

Plus the notes I took for my report on the ball.

I'm hoping they may illuminate something.

Well, if anyone can figure out this puzzle,

it's you.

Mr. Mason!

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

Do you have a moment? I'd like to speak to you

about Alvin Goddard.

I'm rather in a hurry today.

Perhaps another time.

Oh, but--

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross, hello.

Hello, Miss Dickerson.

I came to return the gown you lent me.

Is that Mrs. Halstock's?

It is.

A section of the bodice has been torn.

I just hope my repair

will do the original work justice.

With your skill?

Of course, it will.

You're very kind.

Forgive any impertinence, but...

how are you?

This can't be an easy day.

It's not.

Between the prying eyes and the sneers--

It goes to show you can't buy manners.

Keep your head up, dear.

You've nothing to be ashamed of.

Thank you.

Good day.

Good day...

Miss...

It's you.

Are you all right?

I believe so.

Thank you.

I'm afraid the lout who pushed you

ran off with your handbag.

With all my notes.

You were attacked.

I'm sure your editor will understand.

No, they weren't for work.

Still, I suppose it could be worse.

Thank you for your help,

Mr...?

Derrick.

Anderson.

Mr. Derrick Anderson.

Emma Vanderbilt-Cross.

Well, it's a pleasure

to make your acquaintance officially,

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

Might I offer you a ride home?

Thank you, but that wouldn't be appropriate.

I can arrange a carriage for hire.

That would take hours on a Sunday.

Please, I just rented one from Tabb's.

It's the least I can do.

If you insist.

This way.

What's brought you to--

That was quite an evening, wasn't it?

Please, you first.

I was simply asking what's brought you to Newport.

A mix of business and pleasure,

and I haven't seen the grand cottages in person,

so when the assignment was offered,

I leapt at the chance.

An assignment?

Are you a reporter?

I write the women's pages for our local paper.

Ah.

Is something wrong?

No, not at all, it's just...

there's a spot of dirt.

It must have happened when you fell.

Oh, goodness. Um...

Did I get it?

May I?

Thank you, Mr. Anderson.

Derrick, please.

Oh, I couldn't.

We've only just met.

True,

but I must confess, I do know you,

by reputation at least,

and I have a question or two for you.

You mean...

because of my half-brother-- his arrest?

Half-brother? No, I--

Stop the carriage now, please!

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross--

I said stop the carriage!

Please, this is just a misunderstanding--

The only misunderstanding

is you believing I would be foolish enough

to answer a newspaperman's questions

simply because he was kind to me.

I promise you, that's not the case.

If you would allow me to explain--

No, Mr. Anderson,

I don't think so.

What's happened?

You look like you've been through the wars.

The results of meeting a pickpocket

on Bellevue Avenue.

Oh, dear.

Are you all right?

Yes.

Just a few bumps and bruises.

There must be something in the air.

Why do you say that?

Adelaide asked me to call at her home earlier.

She was looking for medical advice

for a nasty bruise on her forearm.

I wonder what could have happened.

An accident involving her husband, apparently.

I wonder what kind of accident that could have been?

She wouldn't say.

At any rate,

I came by to ask

how your conversation with your boss went.

Will you be writing the investigative piece

on Mr. Goddard's murder?

No.

Mr. Milford told me in no uncertain terms

to stay far away from the scandal.

I'm sorry.

I know you how badly you want to see Brady freed.

I do,

but perhaps

letting the professionals lead the way

is for the best.

Especially since you have a special friendship

with the lead detective.

Jesse and I haven't made any declarations,

and you know I'm uncertain about whether to marry at all.

Well, you know what they say,

there's nothing like a shared project

to hasten things along.

Harriet...

Nanny must have gotten ideas

when I said we were dining together.

How was your day?

Quite full, in fact.

Amongst other things,

I ran into Mr. Mason.

Did you speak to him?

I tried.

He was in some hurry.

That's suspicious.

Wait, you didn't try to question him, did you?

The opportunity presented itself,

so I took it.

Especially since Nanny hasn't been able to discover

where he's been living since he was dismissed.

How was your day?

Did you get results back

for the gold flecks in Brady's hair?

I did.

They're gilded wood.

Just like the flecks in Goddard's wound.

It's likely both men were hit with the same weapon.

Well, perhaps the dent I noticed

in the balcony doorframe at the office

was made by it as well.

That's good thinking.

Another weapon certainly indicates

someone else was in the room.

I bet it was Mr. Mason.

Perhaps.

Though I did notice something strange

on the list you provided for me.

What's that?

Your cousin, Neily, wasn't on it.

Oh.

You noticed that, did you?

Well, you didn't think to tell me?

I don't believe Neily

could have killed someone, Jesse.

He knew about the plans, Emma.

He did,

but, apparently,

Mr. Goddard was trying to stymie his love affair.

So he had a motive, too.

This is just so awful.

I'm sorry,

we shouldn't discuss the case.

It's just been a difficult day.

Everyone... staring at me

and gossiping about what happened.

I'm sorry.

I suppose I have to get used to it.

That and feckless reporters.

Reporters?

Yes,

a man by the name of Derrick Anderson

ingratiated himself to me,

and then proceeded to say he had a few questions.

Honestly, the nerve.

Hopefully, this will all be resolved soon,

and we can go back to normal.

I don't believe this!

What on Earth's the matter?

Look!

Jesus, Mary and Joseph!

Whatever happened to being respectful?

I wish I knew.

Milford practically declares Brady's guilt.

Says he likely killed Goddard

when he caught him stealing the plans.

I'm going to go to have a word with him this minute.

Oh! Didn't he tell you

to keep your nose out of the story?

He did,

and I suppose I should,

if I want to keep my job and a roof over our heads.

It's all just so frustrating.

Oh, it is,

but, hopefully, the whole ordeal will be over before long.

Well, according to Milford's article,

it's as good as over now.

Yes, well...

perhaps Mr. Milford should, uh,

spend more time amongst the servant class.

Why is that?

Well, you didn't hear it from me,

but, apparently,

there's some sort of secret bidding war

for the stolen plans.

- A bidding war? - Mm-hmm.

Engineered by whom?

Well, whoever stole them, I suppose.

The word is

it's being conducted via phone

by an anonymous seller.

An anonymous seller

is telephoning wealthy businessmen

offering to sell them the stolen plans!

Don't you see?

Whoever that is must be Mr. Goddard's killer.

Mason, or-- or Neily, or...

What's happened?

I spoke to the chief of police,

and despite the mounting evidence saying otherwise...

...Brady's to be formally charged.

But they can't do that, it's ignoring evidence--

I tried explaining that to them, but--

There must be something you can do.

Cornelius spoke to the chief.

He doesn't want the press involved.

I can't investigate.

I can.

Emma...

It may ruin my life,

but nothing is as important as proving Brady's innocence.

You're serious, aren't you?

I've never been more so in my life.

Then I'll help you do it.

But you just said you can't--

Well, I know that I can't investigate officially, but...

Well, you shouldn't have to do it alone.

We'll find a way to solve Brady's case together.

Somehow.

Neily.

This is a surprise.

What is this I hear

about you making accusations about me to Gertrude?

Do you really believe I could've killed Mr. Goddard?

I don't know what to believe, Neily.

Gertrude told me

that Mr. Goddard was trying to split you and Grace up.

"Trying" being the operative word.

His attempts were feeble.

Even this threat of being disinherited?

Even that.

I'll make a go of it on my own.

Stolen railway plans would really help you in that regard.

I didn't steal those plans, Emma.

Nor did I kill Goddard!

Then why didn't you meet Brady

as you'd planned during the ball?

Is this an interrogation?

I got caught up with Grace.

Okay?

And I'm not sorry for that.

She's the love of my life, Emma.

Well then, I'm happy for you.

Thank you,

and I'm sorry if my missing Brady

got him into all this trouble,

but I had nothing to do with what happened.

All right?

All right.

Well, in that case, I'm off.

I was meant to meet the family at the polo grounds

15 minutes ago.

Are you all right?

Yes.

Yes, of course.

So you're off to polo?

With the whole family?

Even Father.

You can't tell me I'm not trying to make it work.

I have to say,

I didn't realize you'd take my promise

that we were in this together

quite so literally.

You said you wanted

a second look at the crime scene,

and when I saw Neily's polo mallet...

You said it was gilded wood?

Yes, but he swears

he had nothing to do with Goddard's murder.

Well, he had motive, you said it yourself.

His mallet might be the mystery weapon

we're looking for.

Only one way to find out.

Thank you so much

for allowing us to look for my lost earring

while the family is out.

Did you hear what she said

about why Goddard dismissed Mr. Mason?

I did, but what cause would Mason have

to risk dismissal

by going through papers in your uncle's office?

Perhaps he was looking for the railway plans.

The ball would have been a good time

for him to sneak back in and get them,

and if Goddard saw him--

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

We're here to look at the dent you spotted

the night of the murder.

If we can match it to Neily's polo mallet,

Mason's moot as a suspect.

You're right, it's just over here.

Here.

Flecks of gilded wood.

It could belong to our mystery weapon.

There was a person here.

What are you doing?

I'm taking a rubbing...

...to see what the pattern is.

Do you recognize it?

The head of Neily's polo mallet,

it's whorled like that.

I'm sorry, Em.

I know you didn't want to believe

that your cousin killed Goddard.

Yeah...

I can't believe it.

What is that?

Like a gold chain of some sort.

Brady recalls

hearing something clatter to the ground

just before he was knocked unconscious.

Do you think it could be that chain?

It's possible.

I mean...

is this something that Neily would own?

I mean, a gold watch chain?

No,

not that I recognize.

The eggs are always the freshest at the market...

Mr. Mason.

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross, and Miss O'Neal,

what a lovely surprise.

Where in heaven have you been?

I've been looking for you for two days.

I heard that you've moved on from The Breakers.

Yes.

I'd...

I'd been trying to keep the news quiet.

I understand your dismissal was Mr. Goddard's decision?

Oh, please excuse Emma's brazenness.

She's had a hard couple of days.

I've no doubt.

I was terribly sorry to hear about Brady.

Aren't you a dear.

We've just bought some fresh berries.

Care to join us?

Well, that's very kind of you,

I'd love to.

Let me just finish up here.

Now, where the devil are they?

- You should really

keep those on a chain,

keep them from getting lost.

I do have one, it's just misplaced.

I'm terribly sorry, I'm afraid I must go.

Well, why on earth is that?

I forgot that I have a meeting, with, um...

with Mr. Milford.

So you said you had reason to believe

this belonged to Mr. Mason?

Yes.

I think it may belong to his reading glasses.

Hmm.

So, a chain possibly belonging to Mason,

and a dent

possibly made by Neily's polo mallet.

We need something more definitive

if we're to free Brady.

We need the stolen plans.

It would certainly help

to know who's been trying to sell them.

Well, perhaps

I'll be able to discover something about that

at today's clambake picnic.

I expect most of the business barons summering here

will be on hand.

Speaking of which,

I need to return home to get ready.

I'm sorry

for coming unannounced,

and for the other day in your office.

I'm afraid I've been terribly familiar, Jesse.

You needn't apologize, Em.

I like your familiarity...

...and I wanted to ask,

since I'm being honest--

Please...

not today.

Until we've found a way to free Brady,

I can't even consider what my future holds.

Of course.

I...

I understand.

Fancy meeting you here.

I wouldn't have expected a clambake

to be fodder for the women's pages.

I suspect none of my male colleagues

were interested in getting their feet wet...

...and truthfully, I'm glad

to have been sent to cover the event.

Between you and me,

there's gossip whoever stole the railway plans

is trying to sell them,

and since many of his business associates are here--

You may be able to learn who it is.

Exactly.

Shall we take a turn about the party

to see what we can discover?

Yes, let's.

I'm surprised the summer set

have decided to embrace

this particular Newport tradition,

I have to say.

The sway of novelty is strong.

You know what this reminds me of?

That nest we built for that injured baby bird

at The Breakers playhouse.

Do you remember?

How could I forget?

I wonder what remains in that hidey-hole

after all these years.

Dust mites, I'd imagine.

Oh, it's good to have a laugh.

Harriet told me about your bruise.

Are you all right?

Yes. It's nothing to worry about.

Rupert's illness,

it sometimes makes him lash out.

Adelaide, I had no idea he was that ill.

You must be struggling.

I'd rather not discuss it.

Besides, he's feeling much better today.

Is that so?

Yes, he's around here...

somewhere,

speaking to your cousin, in fact.

Neily?

I wasn't aware they knew one another.

Only socially,

but Neily wanted to have a word

about a business opportunity of some kind?

It's all well over my head.

Would you excuse me a moment?

I need to freshen up.

Of course.

Ah, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

I have nothing to say to you, sir.

I assure you,

I have no wish to invade your privacy

in regards to your half-brother's arrest.

Then what is it you want from me?

I'm not here for you at all, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

Do you wish I were?

You are incorrigible.

Forgive me.

In truth,

my curiosity got the better of me

when I saw Rupert Halstock on his way here.

I heard a doctor was called to his home.

And how did you hear that?

Did Mrs. Halstock mention anything to you

about her husband's health?

Were you spying on us?

I won't share details

of a private conversation with my oldest friend,

especially not with a reporter.

Fair enough,

but there are perhaps some things you should know.

No.

I'll not listen to another word of your nonsense, sir.

Oh, Barney, what a day.

It feels we're no closer to discovering

who killed Mr. Goddard

than we were yesterday.

What in the world?

Driver!

Driver, you're coming on the wrong side of the road!

- Driver!

It's okay. It's okay, Barney. We're going to be okay.

This was no accident.

Well, I hate to say it, but I think you're right.

Perhaps we should take a step back

and reassess whether our investigating's

a good idea.

With Brady's life on the line?

Absolutely not.

Well, you need to be more careful.

I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you.

Nor I you,

but we must continue.

All right, well, do you have any idea

who may have attacked you?

I can arrange a carriage for hire.

Please, I just rented one from Tabb's.

It's the least I can do.

I do.

Derrick Anderson.

The reporter?

The carriage that hit me was a rental from Tabb's,

just like he drove me in the other day.

You were in a carriage alone with him?

Not for long,

and only because I was covered in dirt...

the result of being robbed in the street.

Robbed? When?

Two days ago.

My purse was stolen,

and my notebook along with it...

...but it was nothing serious.

Perhaps not in isolation,

but considering you were just run off the road?

The two things may be connected.

Not to mention

this reporter's been present on both occasions.

I hadn't considered that.

I did some asking around

when you told me he tried to question you about Brady.

No one knows a man by the name of Derrick Anderson.

But he was at the ball the other night.

I'll sneak a look at Tabb's rental ledger,

see if either of our other suspects

rented carriages.

Okay.

We are going to find out who tried to hurt you.

I promise you that.

Gertrude.

I'm so glad you could make it to tea today.

I simply had to get out of the house.

Should I take that to mean

Uncle Cornelius remains in a dark mood?

And how.

He is still so upset about the theft of those plans,

and the way he goes on about Brady, well--

Oh, Emma,

what a terrible thing for me to say, I'm sorry.

Not at all.

Your father has a right to be upset,

even if we disagree

about who bears responsibility for the thefts.

How is Brady?

I've been meaning to go and see him,

but my father would never allow it.

Would you give him my best?

I will,

but let's not talk about all that,

it's just too dreadful.

Agreed.

I did have one question

about the evening of the ball, though.

Of course,

anything.

I was wondering if you know something

about a particular gentleman

who was in attendance at the ball.

Have you met someone at last?

Perhaps.

How wonderful!

Well, in that case,

I will tell you anything I can.

What is this gentleman's name?

Mr. Derrick Anderson.

Anderson...

Are you sure that was it?

Yes.

I believe him to be a reporter of some ilk.

You must be mistaken.

Mother would have never invited another reporter--

other than you, that is--

on the guest list.

Oh.

How strange.

It is, quite,

but, not to worry,

I'm sure you'll run into him at some point.

Yes.

Yes, perhaps.

So did you hear about the fracas

at the Yacht Club last night?

I hadn't, no.

It was entirely scandalous.

Your friend Adelaide's husband

went absolutely mad at a staff member.

How so? Mr. Halstock is so frail.

He certainly wasn't last evening.

He was screaming

and waving that cane of his around.

Oh, my.

You should have seen it.

I swear was going to hit the poor waiter

with that ram's head-topper at one point.

Gertrude, his cane,

you said it was fashioned like a ram's head?

Whorled horns and all.

I came as soon as I could.

We have another suspect.

Rupert Halstock

apparently had an outrageous outburst

at the Yacht Club last night.

Was it connected to the case?

No, but his cane may be.

According to Gertrude,

the topper is shaped like a ram's head,

and the horns are whorled.

It may match the dent in Uncle Cornelius' office.

This complicates matters.

The Halstocks were on the list of Tabb's

for rental carriages yesterday.

Rupert could be our killer.

I'll visit him today,

under the guise of his outburst,

and see what I can ascertain.

Okay.

I'll plan an outing with Adelaide.

Very good,

and I'm afraid Mr. Halstock wasn't the only person

who rented a carriage that day.

Both Neily and Mason did as well.

So much for narrowing our suspect list.

With Derrick Anderson and Rupert in the mix,

it's doubled.

About that.

There was no Derrick Anderson in the rental ledger.

There was a Derrick Andrews.

He's been lying about who he is.

Derrick Andrews is no reporter,

he's son and heir to a Boston newspaper publisher.

Why would he lie about something like that?

Perhaps the business section of today's Observer

may be able to answer that question.

Yes,

here it is.

"Renowned publisher Mr. J. Andrews

has invested significantly in a new elevated railway

that's set to be built in Chicago."

That gives Derrick motive for wanting Cornelius' plans.

And a reason to want to intimidate me

into not investigating the theft,

or Goddard's murder.

It's a good theory,

but let's not rule out the others.

Mr. Halstock could still be our killer.

Not to mention Neily or Mr. Mason.

Oh, Emma!

It's just terrible.

You've been fired from the newspaper!

I don't understand

what cause Mr. Milford could possibly have

to fire you.

You've stayed well clear of the hubbub around Brady.

Haven't you?

Not... exactly.

Jesse and I have been quietly investigating

who killed Mr. Goddard,

and, apparently,

Milford received an anonymous note

telling him as much.

Likely from the same person who tried to attack you.

Please don't be upset.

Well, I am,

and mostly because you didn't consult me.

You know very well

I'm an expert in these sorts of things,

thanks to the writing of Arthur Conan Doyle.

I quite like Conan Doyle's stories myself, Nanny,

but reading detective fiction

and investigating an actual murder

are quite different.

I've no doubt they're that,

but it doesn't mean that I can't help.

Now, tell me...

...who are your suspects?

Very well.

There are four suspects

we believe could be Mr. Goddard's true killer.

Derrick Andrews,

a newspaper heir from Boston,

Cousin Neily--

No, Emma, he wouldn't.

We have reason to believe he may have.

Likewise with Rupert Halstock,

and Mr. Mason.

Mr. Mason?

Why on earth would you think that?

He had motive.

And we don't know where he was the night of the murder.

He didn't do that,

I know it for a fact.

Well, could you possibly know that?

Because...

...he was with me.

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross, hello again.

If I had known you were coming,

I would have brought an extra glass.

Thank you, but I'm only here for a moment.

I had some questions

about your dismissal from The Breakers.

I see.

But first, I suppose

I should offer my congratulations.

Nanny hadn't told me you two were an item.

I suppose that makes us even on the secrets front,

doesn't it?

I suppose it does.

It was Mr. Goddard who dismissed you, correct?

I understand he found you in my uncle's office.

Yes.

I was trying to discover the root of the rivalry

between the Vanderbilts and Grace Winslow's family.

Why's that?

I'd hoped

by discovering why it began,

Neily would have a means by which to end it,

so that he and Grace could be together,

but Mr. Goddard found me and dismissed me on the spot.

Said he'd keep Neily and Miss Winslow apart,

no matter what.

Why on earth was he so intent

on breaking two young people's hearts?

Mr. Goddard seemed to take pleasure

in causing others unhappiness.

No wonder Neily's been so upset about it all.

Perhaps Neily did do the unthinkable.

We could always go to Gull Cottage.

It's more private.

Hiding will just invite more talk.

Are you sure?

If people want to be ignorant

about Rupert's medical condition,

I can't stop them.

There's the feisty Adelaide I remember.

You're a good friend, Emma.

I try to be.

Although, I must confess

that my invitation to walk today wasn't entirely innocent.

How do you mean?

I wanted to spare you the strain of being home

when Detective Whyte called to speak with Rupert.

Why on earth would the police...

Does this have something to do

with your attempts to help your brother?

Please don't be mad.

Don't be...

Emma, how could you?

Rupert has bad days,

but he could never hurt anyone.

Well, I didn't think so either,

but after his outburst yesterday at the restaurant--

He was just confused.

Accusing a sick old man isn't the way to free Brady,

especially when there's an obvious suspect

in your own family.

You mean Neily?

Of course.

At the clambake, he told Rupert

he was in the process of securing seed money

for his own endeavors.

Where else would he get that kind of money except--

except the stolen plans.

Exactly.

If you ask me, it's he who's been trying to sell them.

I need to get home.

There's no telling how Rupert will be

after being questioned by the police.

Oh, Neily...

it's time I find out what you're really up to.

I hate that we have to keep meeting in secret like this.

As do I, my love,

but it's better like this than not at all.

A lovers' rendezvous.

Of course.

Who's there?

Ah!

Let go of me!

Let go!

Hey!

Leave her alone!

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross.

You.

What did-- Are you all right?

You've been lying to me.

Excuse me?

About who you really are.

You're no businessman on assignment.

Emma...

No, you haven't earned the right to call me that.

I swear, I can explain everything.

Now isn't the place or the time.

Of course, you're right.

Perhaps we can meet tomorrow?

I'll explain whatever you want to know.

You may call me at my home,

Gull Cottage, at 11:00.

Good evening, Mr. Anderson.

Excuse me,

Mr. Andrews.

I'm fine, truly.

Just shaken.

Yeah, I'd say.

But despite that,

we've narrowed our suspect list down to one.

How'd you figure?

Well, we've already ruled out Mr. Mason,

and Neily was with Grace

when I was attacked,

so it wasn't him.

I imagine you're quite relieved.

Very.

We can also eliminate Derrick Andrews.

It was he who frightened off my assailant.

What was a railway heir doing in that part of town?

That is something I've yet to discover.

The point is,

that leaves us with just one suspect...

Rupert Halstock.

What did you discover

from your visit with him yesterday?

Well, for starters,

he's heavily invested in rail stocks.

Which would give him motive to steal the plans.

Yes, and the handle of his cane

was shaped similar to the dent in the doorframe

from the murder weapon.

But?

But I doubt he had the strength to push Goddard off the balcony,

and he swore he didn't know Cornelius' plans existed

until after the ball.

Am I keeping you from something?

Of course not.

Though I am expecting Mr. Andrews any minute.

Andrews? Why?

I have a feeling

he holds a piece of this confusing puzzle.

Come.

Mr. Andrews,

I'm prepared to hear your explanation.

Straight down to business, is it, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross?

Well, you're hardly in a position

to be given any niceties,

given your unexplained appearances

in the last few days.

And you are?

Detective Jesse Whyte.

Of the Newport Constabulary.

I assure you, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross,

nothing I have to tell you

requires the presence of an officer of the law.

Jesse is a friend.

Ah, I see.

Well, be that as it may, I prefer a private audience.

Is that really necessary?

What I have to tell you is of a rather delicate nature.

Very well.

Would you give us a few moments?

I don't see that as at all appropriate.

I'll be fine.

I'll be close by.

There,

we're alone.

So?

I came to Newport to attend the ball

with my father,

Mr. J. Andrews.

He's trying to make inroads with the railway barons,

and, frankly,

quite keen on me to settle down and start a family...

...but I've decided to stay for another reason entirely.

Which was?

Rupert Halstock's sister is a friend.

She's concerned for his well-being,

and has asked that I investigate while I'm here.

And what does that have to do with me?

Over the last few days,

you've been something of my shadow.

I've enjoyed our paths crossing,

Miss Vanderbilt-Cross,

very much,

but it isn't you that I've been shadowing.

I insist you drop these half answers at once

and tell me,

what concerns are you investigating,

and how am I relevant to them?

I believe

Rupert Halstock's wife--

Adelaide, your friend--

has been slowly poisoning her husband.

That's ridiculous.

Mr. Halstock's illness defies all logic.

According to his sister,

it's come on very suddenly,

and from what I've learned,

it ebbs and flows, seemingly without reason.

That's hardly evidence Adelaide has been poisoning him.

True,

which is exactly why

I was outside the warehouse last night.

I'm afraid I don't follow.

I believe Adelaide has been visiting the neighborhood

to illicitly purchase poison.

How can you be certain?

She may simply be obtaining some kind of medicine,

or perhaps something

having nothing to do with her husband at all.

I know this must be upsetting,

but I had to prove to you

that I had no involvement in the murder

for which your half-brother has been accused.

I couldn't live with myself,

knowing that you thought I would try to harm you

or anyone close to you.

Oh, goodness.

Emma, dear, may I have a word?

What is it?

Is everything all right?

Far from it.

I've just had a telephone call

from a young maid whom I helped secure a position for.

She was so upset,

she was going a hundred miles an hour.

What's happened?

Rupert Halstock is dead.

Dead?

Was it poison?

I've no idea.

What would make you think something like that?

I'm terribly sorry,

but something urgent has come up.

Still, I'm grateful to know

the true reason for your presence in Newport.

And I'm grateful to have cleared the air between us.

I expect I'll be gone in the next day or two,

given that my business here is complete.

Oh.

But...

I'd like to see you again before then,

if you'd be willing.

Yes,

I'd like that, too.

Until then.

Well, what did Mr. Andrews have to say for himself?

Mr. Andrews' information isn't important at the moment.

Rupert Halstock is dead.

What? How?

I don't know. Nanny just told me.

I'm detective on duty.

I need to be at the scene, Emma.

Well, I'm coming with you.

- Emma... - No, his death

may have something to do with the case,

and, besides, Adelaide will need a friend by her side.

How horrible.

I didn't mean to.

Adelaide, what happened?

He attacked me.

Your husband attacked you?

It's happened before, Jesse.

- Emma-- - No, he needs to know.

Mr. Halstock's illness sometimes makes him violent.

It wasn't that this time.

I overheard him talking on the telephone

about the missing plans.

You were right, Emma,

he stole them, and...

...and he must have killed Mr. Goddard in the process.

How did overhearing this conversation

lead to this man's death?

I confronted him.

Said if he didn't confess, then I'd go to the police.

I couldn't bear the thought of Brady suffering one more day

for something he didn't do,

but Rupert said he'd do no such thing.

He wanted me to swear I wouldn't either,

and when I wouldn't...

He attacked you.

I thought he was gonna kill me.

I... I grabbed the first thing I saw.

I'll need to take that cane into evidence.

I'm feeling awfully overwhelmed.

M... might I lie down for a few moments?

Of course.

Will this be enough to free Brady?

It's difficult to say.

A statement from Adelaide

may help convince the chief that he's innocent.

But?

It would be better if we could find

the stolen plans on the premises.

Okay.

So we'll mount a search.

Yes, and I'll call the coroner's office.

Okay, I'll speak to Adelaide.

She may have an idea of where they are.

Okay.

Addie?

Is that Mrs. Halstock's?

It is.

A section of the bodice has been torn.

That gown.

What is that?

That chain wasn't Mason's at all...

What weapon did she use?

I left my cane in the smoking room.

You'll have to go up and get it.

Rupert's cane.

Of course.

Where did she hide those plans?

I wonder what remains in that hidey-hole

after all these years.

Dust mites, I'd imagine.

Adelaide...

...what have you done?

You have to understand...

...I never meant for this to happen.

I was only trying to reclaim my freedom.

How was that?

Marrying Rupert gave me access to the finer things,

but he made my life miserable.

I had to get away.

By stealing?

From my uncle?

I needed money,

and Mr. Goddard was flashing the plans around,

calling them priceless.

So you always planned to sell them?

I thought they'd bring a new life for me.

So when Mr. Goddard said

he was returning them to the office,

I followed him.

I'd hoped to grab them without him noticing--

But he saw you.

He attacked me!

Shook me like a rag doll.

I had to fight back!

With Rupert's cane?

Yes...

but, Emma,

I wasn't trying to kill him.

How could I have known he would fall from the balcony?

Please.

You have to believe me.

Even if I did,

my half-brother is in jail because of what you did,

and your husband is dead!

I know,

and it's horrible,

all of it,

but I had no choice.

Truly.

When Rupert discovered what I'd done,

he threatened to tell your uncle.

I'd have been ruined!

Ruined?

Brady could hang!

No...

Don't you see?

I came here to retrieve the plans.

Just let me take them home

and leave them for the police to find.

That way, Brady will be freed,

and everything can go back to normal.

All I'm asking

is for you to keep my secret.

Please, Emma.

We've been friends for so long.

No, this... this can't be. Brady!

I'm afraid the lout who pushed you

ran off with your handbag.

All my notes.

Ah! Get off of me!

I'm sorry, Adelaide.

I won't.

I'm sorry, too.

It's over, Adelaide!

Please, no, you must understand.

Oh, I think I do.

You're under arrest

for the murder of Alvin Goddard

and Rupert Halstock.

What's going on?

You're gonna squeeze the life out of me!

Has something happened?

Oh, Brady, so much has happened.

Dare... dare I ask?

We found Goddard's true killer.

You're free to go, Brady.

To Brady's exoneration.

To Brady!

The coroner's report on Mr. Halstock's death

confirms Adelaide was poisoning him.

She must have been truly miserable

to go to such lengths.

No marriage could be miserable enough

to justify everything she did.

Some, though, can be quite lovely.

I've heard it helps to marry a friend.

Excuse me a moment.

Well, without you,

Brady would still be behind bars.

Without you,

Adelaide could have killed me.

You've just received the most wonderful note!

You really must stop opening my correspondence.

Mr. Milford has offered you your job back at the newspaper.

Oh, that's wonderful news.

Uh, he lists one condition.

What's that?

That you refrain from getting involved

in future police matters.

Well, I don't plan on making a habit of it.

That's settled then.

Though, I must say,

the two of you do make a wonderful team.

- Oh...

champagne.

Don't mind if I do.

Would you be so kind as to pour me a glass, Brady?

We do make quite a good team,

don't we?

We do.

Well, now Brady's free,

I wanted to ask you...

maybe it would be a good time to ask you,

- I mean--

Who on earth could that be?

I'll get it.

You stay and celebrate.

Mr. Andrews.

What a surprise.

I'm sorry if I'm interrupting,

but I had hoped you could spare a moment

before I head back to Boston.

You're leaving today?

I am,

but I wanted to see you,

and offer you my congratulations.

If rumors are to be believed,

it's thanks to your investigative skills

that your brother is free.

Well, I won't officially take any credit,

but thank you.

You know, there is still one mystery

I haven't been able to solve.

And what's that?

Why it is you chose to keep your true identity from me.

Why do you presume

that the deceit was all for you?

You truly are incorrigible.

You do know that, don't you, Mr. Andrews?

I wanted to keep a low profile,

stay focused on the task at hand.

Had people known

that Mr. Andrews' bachelor son was staying on,

there would have been endless invitations

from marriage-minded mothers.

Ah, yes,

and how horrible it would have been

to spend time with a parade

of wealthy and eligible young women.

I assure you, Miss Vanderbilt-Cross...

Emma.

...if I am to marry,

Emma,

it would be with someone far more interesting

and independent

than an heiress.

I should be off.

Of course.

I hope our paths will cross soon.

Before the season ends.

That I can promise you.

"Since Susan B. Anthony's visit,

the idea that independence brings happiness

has weighed on my mind.

I've realized that I'm lucky

to have an independence which many women don't,

but it seems to me

that it's not simply independence

that makes one happy,

it's what one chooses to do with their independence...

...and perhaps,

that is where the adventure really begins."