Original subtitles

Effie Crabtree, Canada's first female Crown Attorney.

And Clara Brett Martin was the first female attorney

in the entire British Empire.

She forged the path that I have followed.

I'm writing a profile on you.

"Woman Lucks Into Success"

isn't exactly a headline that will attract readers.

I'm just being honest.

Your first case with the Crown

is one of the biggest in Toronto's history.

You will argue that a former city councilman should hang

- for the killing of three people. - That's right.

However, Mr. Alister Gordon will be lead counsel.

I'll be assisting him.

You're an assistant?

No. I'm a newly appointed lawyer for the Crown.

What do you say to those who believe that women

are mentally inferior to men and incapable of logical reasoning?

I would say that it is their reasoning that is illogical.

Women are the equal to men in every way.

And if they don't believe that fact, then, well...

Just watch me.

Ta-ta, dear. Safe voyage.

Oh! You must be Mr. Murdoch.

I'm the landlord, Stanley. Lester.

Oh, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

And thank you for accommodating me on such short notice.

- Just moved to town? - No. I'm living on my own

for the first time in quite some time,

and my home is just very...

empty and quiet.

Well, you won't have that problem here.

Follow me, sir.

You're in 2C.

Make yourself at home.

Thank you.

Detective Murdoch?

Yes. Do I know you?

No.

Oh but thank God you're finally here.

There's been a murder.

Jonathan B. Booth.

He lived in this room for about a year.

Was it two years?

I only lived here for seven months. Well, seven and a half.

And you believe this Mr. Booth was murdered?

Yes.

It happened two weeks ago,

just after I last saw him on Thursday at 4:15 p.m.

- You saw his body? - No.

Then how do you know he was murdered?

- He was gone. - Gone?

Oh, he wouldn't just disappear.

Without saying goodbye?

No. No, no. No. No, sir. No, not Mr. Booth.

Now, I told all of this to the constables at Station House Four.

MacLaren and Cruickshank...

can't remember their Christian names.

It's all right. I know them.

But you're here now, so I can rest easy.

Actually, I am moving into these rooms

because this is to be my home.

- Oh. - For now.

Oh.

So, if...

you don't mind.

Of course. I beg your pardon.

Was just, wh-wh-what about the murder?

I'll look into it.

So you'll be living here?

With me!

So it would seem.

Didn't know the hallowed halls of power would be quite so dull.

Well, you are causing quite a stir.

I'd hate to see them when they're not stirred up.

Hm.

So, let's, uh, go over this once again, Chief Constable.

Tell me exactly

what Francis Stewart said to you.

I've already told ya.

Tell me again.

Chief Constable Stewart

admitted to Councilman Vaughan's involvement

in the murder of two women almost 20 years ago.

Just a boy. A good family.

I knew the father.

They told me that the burglary was a...

was a youthful lark.

Some sort of a dare gone terribly wrong.

And what of the murders next door?

I believed them to be an accident.

If I'd known it was murder...

He also admitted to letting Chadwick Vaughan

into the cell occupied by Richard Tauber,

a man that was found dead immediately after that visit.

And he'll admit to all of that in open court?

He gave me his word.

Detective Murdoch.

What are you doing here?

Isn't it your day off?

Something you'll soon learn about me, Inspector,

is that I much prefer work to leisure.

Then we have something in common.

What's troubling you?

I'm moving into a rooming house

and the man who rented my rooms before me

apparently has disappeared.

- And? - W-well, uh,

all of the neighbours seem to agree

that the man, Mr. Booth,

was planning to move to Hamilton at the end of the week,

but was seen with a blue suitcase in hand

and all of his possessions cleared out.

Perhaps he simply left a couple of days early to save on rent.

Hm. Hardly a mystery then.

The Crown will prove to you that Chadwick Vaughan

took distinct and an intentional action

to kill Elsie and Nora Haines in 1891

to hide the truth of an affair he was carrying on.

Furthermore, the Crown will show you that Mr. Vaughan

killed Detective Richard Tauber

while he was being held in the cells

of Station House Number Four just last year

to keep quiet the truth of his guilt in those previous murders.

Now Mr. Vaughan's considerable power and influence

in the city of Toronto has allowed him to get away

with these heinous acts.

None less than former Chief Constable Francis Stewart

was under his sway

and will testify to his guilt.

You'd best hope Mr. Vaughan is convicted.

Why do you say that?

You won't be long for a job if he isn't.

Yeah?

Beg your pardon.

I'm William Murdoch and I just moved in.

What do you want?

There is a tremendous amount of noise coming from your rooms.

It's quite loud.

- What exactly are you doing? - I'm not making any noise.

- What? - Now see here...

What's that on your hand?

Leave me alone.

So, you are investigating?

I was just complaining about the noise.

Is that so?

Well, just so you know, Mr. Holland there...

he is my prime suspect.

King's Counsel has prepared an expansive case

against Mr. Vaughan

with over a dozen witnesses prepared to testify.

And very shortly we will be, uh...

- Where is he? - ... calling forth our first

witness to the stand to, uh...

Your Lordship, the Crown apologizes.

Our first witness is not present in the courtroom.

We request a brief adjournment.

Francis!

Something's blocking the door.

Dear God.

Suicide.

Bloody hell, Francis.

And there is no sign of foul play?

The letter was in his handwriting.

He said he couldn't bear to testify.

He wanted to see Vaughan hang as much as anyone.

But he was too much of a coward.

- The man is barely cold. - By his own choice!

And now he's left our case to fall apart.

If this man was to testify at trial,

didn't he provide a statement?

He refused.

And I allowed it.

Win the case, Mrs. Crabtree.

Because if you don't, then it's on me.

You last saw Mr. Booth two weeks ago

on Thursday at 4:15 p.m.

Yet, the landlord, Mr. Lester,

heard Mr. Booth here in the room

the following morning at 10 a.m.

"Walked past door at 10 a.m. Heard banging inside.

Assumed packing his belongings.

Slipped note under door to request final week's rent.

No sign of note two days later."

And two days later, Mr. Booth as well

as all of his belongings were gone.

And the previous evening, quicklime was stolen

- from the garden shed. - What?

There's no mention of quicklime in the police report.

Well, that's because I didn't notice it

until after the constables started ignoring me.

Oh, what is that horrible smell?

- That? - Mm.

No, it always smells like that.

I don't know what it is, but it's coming from 1C.

I'm boiling cabbage.

Hm. Yes, I, I, I can smell that,

but I'm not entirely sure it accounts for all of...

Bye, Frank!

Be done. In a bit.

Your Honour, the Crown humbly asks that you offer us an adjournment.

A key witness has taken his own life.

Our case was to begin with his testimony

and build upon its foundation.

We need time to regroup.

Your other evidence and witnesses are available to you?

Yes.

Then present them to the jury.

Court will resume at nine o'clock tomorrow morning.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

Effie, I have some questions.

Now is not the time, Louise.

It will only take a moment.

Tomorrow morning, before court. My office, eight a.m.

Wipe that smirk off your face.

- I beg your pardon? - You killed him.

Stewart? I didn't do a thing.

You manipulated him into covering for you.

And now he's dead because of the shame

- you brought upon him. - Chief Constable,

I am an innocent man.

If Francis Stewart killed himself out of shame,

any responsibility for his death

should fall at the feet of those who accused him,

and myself, of things we did not do.

Mr. Holland, in 2E,

and Miss Fink in 1C.

I can say after being here only one day

that neither is an ideal neighbour.

- Mm. - And I have to agree

both are acting rather suspiciously.

Mm-hmm. Mr. Booth was rather persnickety, too.

He was always in everyone else's business,

just like yourself.

I wouldn't consider myself persnickety.

Inspector Choi.

I brought you a housewarming gift.

Oh! Uh, come in.

Oh! You have company?

- This is... - Tippy Longfellow.

- Uh. - I live across the hall.

Uh, ah, Inspector Albert Choi.

Uh...

What's this then?

Ah! This is to do with the case I was looking into

at the station house. We...

The Case of the Man Who Moved Out One Day Early.

Hm. All right, then, Detective.

I have no plans for the time being.

Impress me.

Mm-hmm.

Where do we stand?

We have plenty of evidence to convict Vaughan

of the murder of Detective Tauber.

Fingermarks, eyewitness accounts, including your own.

And there's a recording of him confessing to it.

- Hm. - Precisely.

The two murders from 1891, I'm not so sure.

There's the original police file,

which was adulterated by Stewart on Vaughan's behalf.

Without Stewart to confirm that,

they can say Stewart was lying.

There's a witness, the jeweller.

- He gave a police sketch. - Hm.

Twenty years after events.

The sketch looked exactly like Vaughan.

There's no way such a distant account could be that reliable.

The Chief Constable's testimony.

He knows everything that Stewart was going to say.

Hearsay.

And he got Vaughan's confession.

Only for Tauber.

He didn't deny the others,

but he didn't admit to them, either.

Look, this is not how the law is meant to be.

We know beyond a shadow of a doubt

that Vaughan is guilty, and the defence knows it too.

And yet they will trot out every excuse in the book,

every arcane stratagem,

to sink this case and thwart justice.

That's their job.

It is not their job!

The purpose of our courts is not to win at any cost.

It is to pursue the truth,

jointly, and in good faith.

It's defence attorneys who choose to pervert justice.

Oh! Still bitter that I won?

- I beg your pardon? - The sleepwalking case.

That has nothing to do with this.

But, yes, that trial is a perfect example.

You lied before King and country

to achieve the result you desired.

What I argued was the truth, to the best of my knowledge.

And you were wrong.

You were wrong, and you won anyway.

Well, now you're going to feel what it's like to be on the other side.

And of course, there's the quicklime,

and we know what that's used for.

Speculation.

That's all this is. Now!

Let's focus on something more important, hm?

Where shall we hang this?

Ah...

Ah, huh...

Perhaps... Ah!

A peephole!

Detective, have you been spying on your neighbours?

I have not.

But perhaps Mr. Booth was. May I?

Hm.

Oh! Th-this must be Mr. Lester, the landlord's room.

So this Mr. Booth was a Peeping Tom.

- Mm-hmm! - Sir, have a look.

There is a blue suitcase matching the description

of the one Mr. Booth was seen packing

prior to his disappearance.

So...

Booth was a Peeping Tom.

The neighbour finds out,

gets angry, kills him,

then hides his suitcase in his bedroom?

Yes! Yes! Yes, that's it! Detective!

We cracked the case!

Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

- Oh, my. - What's this?

"Dear Tippy, No one told me Hamilton

was so beautiful this time of year.

Sorry I did not get a chance to say goodbye.

Jonathan B. Booth."

You heard from him and you didn't tell me?

No, no, no. You don't understand...

I believe I do understand, Miss Longfellow.

You lied to us.

You have been wasting our time.

You could be charged with filing a false police report.

No, no. This only arrived today.

So...

So, do you see, it doesn't, it doesn't quite...

make sense.

Detective, I was just having so much fun working with you.

And I'm terribly sorry.

We'll get him for Tauber then.

I'm not prepared to argue the Tauber case.

We weren't meant to start till next week.

I know the case.

- Well enough to try it? - Yes.

I can act as lead counsel.

I'll review all the details before morning,

even if it takes me all night.

Very well.

But write down how you intend to proceed

so that I can step in as necessary.

Of course.

Hm. I probably should have

maintained my initial skepticism.

Ah, sometimes we see intrigue where there is none

because we need a distraction from our own thoughts.

What thoughts?

Well, I can't answer that.

But surely you could see why a man would concoct

a fanciful story, a mystery to embark upon

with a cheerful new friend from across the hall,

rather than sitting alone in his rooms,

watching films of people halfway around the world.

I wasn't always a bachelor.

My life used to be very different.

Losing someone is...

an adjustment.

Well, I haven't lost Julia or Susannah.

Of course not, not in that sense.

But even if their absence is temporary,

they are not here.

What is that?

What is that?

Has no odour.

Huh. Quicklime.

Ah!

I think we may have found Mr. Booth.

Effie. Effie!

Where were you? Eight a.m., remember?

I was working all night. I barely had time

to go home and get changed.

Well, you could have let me know. I'm busy too.

I'll make it up to you.

Counsel? Is the Crown prepared to proceed?

We are, your Honour.

The Crown would like to inform the court that the charges

of murder relating to the 1891 deaths

of Elsie and Nora Haines are being withdrawn.

And the third charge? Tauber?

We intend to proceed.

Very good, then.

Miss Hart? Inspector Choi.

I've heard a great deal about you.

Charmed.

I'm wondering how a woman of your background

came to hold such a position.

It must be quite the story.

The same must be true of you, sir.

Indeed.

Ah! I see the two of you have met. Wonderful.

What have you discovered, Miss Hart?

He's covered thoroughly in quicklime, as you thought.

Quicklime desiccates the body, limiting decomposition.

Making it difficult to establish a time of death?

- Indeed. - Hm.

Cause of death, on the other hand, is easier,

thanks to the quicklime.

He was hit on the head. A heavy object with a sharp edge.

- Hm. - There was a lot of blood.

His clothing was soaked through.

I found this in his pocket.

"The truth... sins... you must know...

going on... in there...

Signed J.B. Booth."

He was definitely planning to expose someone's wrongdoings.

Sounds like a motive for murder.

Where were you on the afternoon of December 9th, 1911?

Home, the office, the club.

You also went to Station House Number Four

- that afternoon, did you not? - I did.

Constable Tucker allowed you into the cell

specifically occupied by Detective Richard Tauber.

- That's correct. - A man who had provided

information regarding two murders he had investigated in 1891.

Your Honour, we object to any discussion of murders

- for which charges have been withdrawn. - Your Honour,

this is pertinent to the circumstances

under which the victim was killed.

Proceed, counsel.

You were aware that Tauber

was implicating you in the deaths

- of Elsie and Nora Haines, correct? - Yes, I was.

And that is why you entered his cell.

- Yes. - It is also why

you struggled with him there,

leaving your fingermark on his shirt button.

- Yes. - And it is the reason you killed him.

No. I did not kill him!

He was found dead less than an hour later.

He was alive when I left.

You said yourself you fought with him,

leaving evidence on his dead body.

I fought with him because he was threatening

to go to the police about me.

But we came to an agreement.

I paid him money to tell the truth,

that I had nothing to do with the deaths

of Elsie and Nora Haines.

You paid him?

- Yes. - Then where is the money?

No payment was found on him.

Perhaps the killer stole it.

A-all I know is he was alive when I left.

Then why did you confess?

But I didn't.

In December of last year, you questioned Mr. Vaughan

at his home, did you not?

I paid him a visit.

We played snooker. I won.

We had a conversation.

Did you discuss the murder of Detective Richard Tauber?

- Yes, we did. - What did Vaughan have to say?

He said that he never intended to bribe him

because he knew that it wouldn't work.

- So, he killed him. - Objection, your Honour.

My client just testified that that never happened.

This is secondhand information

that clearly falls under hearsay exclusion.

Thank you, counsel.

The jury will disregard the Chief Constable's last comment.

Your Honour, the Crown would like to play a recording

of the conversation in question.

Objection on the same grounds.

This recording has already been entered into evidence.

My learned friend submitted it just yesterday,

believing it to be exculpatory

in the cases of Elsie and Nora Haines.

Francis helped me once,

so I helped him in turn.

And you both helped each other out with Richard Tauber.

The Chief Constable arranged for you to visit the cells.

You already know a great deal, don't you, Inspector?

Francis made arrangements for me to slip in the back door.

He thought Tauber could be silenced with a bribe.

I'm delighted to have had this conversation.

That it's been recorded for posterity.

Now wait a minute! That's not right.

- That's not what happened. - That's how I remember it.

You confessed! Someone's altered the recording!

Sit down, Mr. Brackenreid. And remain silent.

The Crown provided the recording, your Honour.

We simply listened to it and submitted it to the court.

Your Honour, foul play is afoot.

This is not the complete recording as obtained

by the police and shared with the defence by the Crown.

What are you suggesting?

We all heard the conversation with our own ears.

- They've adulterated it. - Is that possible?

A portion of the conversation has simply been excised.

It's easily done when making a duplicate.

This is a damning charge.

It certainly is, but we are prepared to prove it.

The Crown has the original recording in our files.

I can have it to you in 20 minutes.

So I was right. Mr. Booth is dead!

Indeed.

We'll need to have another look at that postcard.

It was obviously a fake sent by the killer.

Of course.

Oh, this is very exciting.

To think that I had it right

and the great Detective Murdoch had it wrong.

There you go.

Thank you, Miss Longfellow.

We'll let you know if we need anything further.

Whoa, Detective! Just...

I made you something.

- What are these? - They're pillowcases.

The linens provided by Mr. and Mrs. Lester

are always somewhat threadbare.

Well, I only have one pillow. I, I, I don't need both.

No, no, no. I already monogrammed both.

Perhaps you'll have company one day.

No, I don't think so.

But, uh, thank you. Thank you.

It's not here.

What do you mean, it's not here?

- I... - It's in our case files.

I listened to it last night!

So you had it last night and now it's gone?

It can't just have disappeared.

M-maybe you just misplaced it.

I don't understand. This can't be.

So you've lost it. Wonderful.

You spent the night before the trial

losing our key piece of evidence.

Oi, Gordon. Easy.

She was alone here when we left her last night.

Was anyone else in the building?

No! I only left at 7:30 this morning.

There was no one else here.

We'll ask the staff, but it certainly appears

no one else has been in here, Mrs. Crabtree.

Your negligence may have just lost us this case.

The handwriting on this postcard is similar

to the letter found on Mr. Booth's body,

but it's not the same.

Not the real McCoy then.

The killer must have travelled to Hamilton

to send that postcard yesterday,

maybe because he knew you were looking into the case.

Start with the landlord.

Booth's letter threatened to expose a secret.

I think it was whatever he saw

while looking through that peephole.

When I first arrived, I saw Mr. Lester

helping his wife into a coach and see her off.

When you paid me a visit, I saw a much younger woman

walking down the hall toward Mr. Lester's rooms.

An affair.

Possibly.

And then there's Miss Fink.

Whatever's she's up to is causing that horrible smell.

What smell?

That smell I'm smelling right now?

It's, uh, cabbage.

Some shame and...

Marijuana.

Marijuana? Oh, yes, I've heard of it,

but I've not come across it just yet.

It's becoming popular in California.

Your neighbour would surely be evicted

if anyone found out she was smoking dope.

- Dope? - That's what they're calling it now.

Apparently, it makes one fuzzy-headed.

Why would anyone want that?

This neighbour making all of the noise,

he's the one I find the most suspicious.

Maybe so,

but when we were here yesterday, I heard that same sound.

Right.

There's no way he could have gone all the way

to Hamilton and back.

Oh, that's odd.

This obliterator mark has no letter or number.

The... I'm sorry, what are you talking about?

Uh, every postmark in Canada has this circle

with information, time, date, location,

and these wavy lines are used to mark a stamp as used,

or, or cancelled, hence obliterator.

- All right. - Inside, there is often

a letter, or a number,

depending on which machine was used

at that particular post office.

The fact that there is no number means... ?

Well, some postal locations only have one machine,

so there is no need for a letter, or a number.

But I happen to know that Hamilton has two such machines,

so any postmark coming out of Hamilton

would bear the number one, or two.

How do you know this?

I subscribe to a quarterly publication

on postal innovations.

At any rate,

this postmark is a forgery.

Meaning the killer did not have to travel

to Hamilton after all.

It could still be your neighbour.

That's the secret he's been hiding.

A-and the marks on his hand,

it wasn't blood.

It's ink.

He's a forger!

- Yeah. - Mr. Holland,

Toronto Constabulary.

Stand back.

Plates, dyes, pulp stock,

everything needed to print counterfeit money

and cut it to size.

Booth? Who's Booth?

Your former neighbour. 2C.

Oh, him. Huh.

- What about him? - We found his body

hidden in the wall between his room and yours.

I don't know nothing about that.

Where were you on the 18th between the hours of 4 p.m.

and the following morning?

What day was that?

Thursday.

Oh! That's the day that they locked me up.

For passing a bad bank note.

It's not here.

So what? We have my word.

You heard him. The judge won't allow it.

There's other evidence.

Enough to argue the case, maybe, but to get a conviction?

I don't think so.

I shouldn't think so either.

I've spoken to defence counsel and the judge.

We'll make it official tomorrow, but

the Crown is dropping all charges.

So Vaughan goes free.

I'm afraid so.

And I am sorry, Mrs. Crabtree, but...

I have no choice but to recommend you for termination.

One of the metal counterfeiting plates

found in Mr. Holland's room could be the murder weapon,

but no traces of blood were found on any of them,

so there's no way to prove it.

Mm. Hardly matters.

He was booked at Station House One

the afternoon of March 18th

and they let him out late that evening.

So he couldn't have done it.

What about the postmark?

Someone else forged it.

Or had it forged.

Or went to Hamilton to send it,

and your little magazine was wrong.

It's been a considerable amount of work

to scrape away the quicklime without damaging the body.

I need to be particularly careful with the hands,

for example, in case there are any defensive wounds

or scrapings under the fingernails.

- Anything? - No.

But he had a small object clutched in his hand,

a metal trinket of some kind.

- Hm. - May I?

Uh, of course.

This appears to be...

an ornate thimble.

And it's been engraved.

A thimble? That's odd.

I know of at least one person at the Regent Arms

that does a great deal of sewing,

and this thimble bears her monogram:

Tippy Longfellow.

Your admirer.

Do you recognize this?

- Yes! - It's yours?

No. No,

but I saw it in a shop window once.

Without my monogram, of course.

I stopped to admire it one day when I was out walking with Mr. Booth.

Maybe he bought this for me as a parting gift.

Perhaps he was on his way to give it to me?

Why would he give you a parting gift?

Unless the nature of your relationship

was more intimate than you let on?

No.

But...

I always suspected that he was sweet on me.

It's why I was so sure he would say goodbye.

And why I was, I was quite worried about him.

Or it's yours, and you killed him.

What? No! Why would I?

Because you're obsessed.

With Detective Murdoch.

You killed Mr. Booth to lure him in,

to see if he was smart enough to solve your crime.

No! I...

How else would you have known

about the tarp and the quicklime?

Both were identified by you

as being relevant to the murder

- before the body was found. - Mm.

- How did you know? - Ugh!

Well, just hang onto your horses there.

If all of that was true,

why would I beg the world's greatest detective to take on the case

and then lead him to the very evidence

that would expose my guilt?

To meet your hero.

And hang by the neck forthwith?

Sir, though it is true people have killed

in order to get close to me,

the fact that I moved into the Regent Arms

was pure happenstance.

Miss Longfellow here did not lure me in.

Nevertheless.

Put her in the cells.

It's a bloody hatchet job.

But you'll be back on your feet in no time.

Maybe. Maybe not.

I highly doubt the Crown Attorney's office

will hire another woman anytime soon.

A recording can't just vanish.

It's impossible that Vaughan's lawyer,

or anyone hired by them, could have broken in.

I was there all the way until after daybreak.

There wasn't a sign of anyone.

And no sign of a break -in.

Maybe they got your keys somehow

and waited for you to leave.

If they did,

someone would have seen them.

What's all this?

We've been focusing on our suspects' alibis

for the time of the murder itself.

Now the killer engaged in a series of complex steps

to cover up the crime.

Interviews with, uh, neighbours, gardeners, witnesses,

all narrow down who could have performed

- each of the steps and their cover-ups. - Hm.

The murder, obtaining the tarp from the basement,

stealing the quicklime, and hiding the body in the wall.

All right. And?

As you can see, our results are inconclusive.

- Hm. - No one person

could have performed all of the steps

required of the killer.

I fear we may be looking in the wrong direction.

Hm. Well, we know it's not Holland,

he was at Station House One.

You seem decided it was not Miss Longfellow.

- Hm. - The simplest explanation,

then, is someone is either mistaken

or lying on behalf of the killer,

who has to be either Fink or Lester.

Let's bring them in.

Right.

Told you to clean your hands.

It's ink. It takes a couple days to come off.

Anyway, you're just putting more on 'em.

Fine. Index finger.

Mr. Holland,

when did your hand become stained with ink?

Couple days ago.

The evening before last,

your other hand was stained with red ink.

How were you able to wash one hand clean and not the other?

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

Come on. Off to the cells.

Am I mistaken?

I could have sworn I saw something red on his hand

that I even mistook for blood at the time.

Maybe it was blood.

Maybe.

No. It wasn't.

The first time Mr. Holland answered the door,

his left hand was clean.

The second time, his left hand was stained with red.

Meaning... he spilled something?

Meaning Mr. Holland could have done each

of the steps required of the killer.

He just didn't do them alone.

Miss Cherry?

When you were waiting for me this morning

at the Crown Attorney's office,

did you see Mr. Vaughan's lawyer?

- No. Why would I? - Are you sure?

Maybe someone he sent to break into the place?

I was there for nearly an hour, waiting,

and I didn't see Vaughan's attorney

or any other hired goons.

Did you see anyone at all?

It was early in the morning. The place was nearly empty.

One person came and went inside.

- Who? - Can't say.

What do you mean you can't say?

This person was one of my sources.

They spoke to me with the promise of complete anonymity.

Listen to me, young lady,

this isn't about protecting a source.

Whoever it was more than likely sabotaged the Crown's case.

And my career along with it.

- Sabotage? - Yes! Tell us who it was.

I can't. My sources are confidential.

You'll tell us, or I'll throw you in a cell.

And I'll publish my feelings

about the new Chief Constable from behind bars.

Goodbye.

Wait.

Sir, the article.

There are very few people with intimate knowledge of the case.

If the culprit was a source...

We could probably figure out who it is.

Stewart's suicide.

It says he was wearing his kilt.

But there was no one else there except us.

And Gordon.

He claimed I was the only one at the office this morning,

but if he's Louise's source...

Bloody hell. He scuppered his own case.

I hear something. Should we knock?

There shouldn't be anyone in there.

As I suspected.

The reason Mr. Holland only had red ink on his hand

the second time he answered the door

was because the first time was his twin.

Two Mr. Hollands.

Both under arrest.

Mr. Booth was planning to expose your counterfeiting scheme.

He'd even written a letter to the police,

detailing your operation, but before he could send it,

you killed him.

But not before one of you got himself arrested

in order to create the perfect alibi.

But why keep him in the wall?

We wanted to move him.

Mr. Lester, he was in the room,

trying to rent it straight away.

He even took the man's suitcase

as recompense for last week's rent.

How long were you planning it?

You lived in that rooming house for nearly two years.

None of your neighbours knew that there were two of you.

Mr. Lester charges by the head.

How did Vaughan get to you?

- I beg your pardon? - Bribery? Blackmail?

I have no idea what you're talking about.

We know you were here this morning!

We know you lied about it!

You stole that recording to sink our case.

Typical.

A woman blaming a man for her own failings.

We will prove what you did.

It's only a matter of time.

You know full well I have the ear of the Attorney General.

We'll see what he has to say about it.

Effie.

I'm not here to apologize.

I didn't ask you to, Miss Cherry.

- I was just doing my job. - At the expense of mine.

Would you prefer I didn't report the news?

That I hung my sources out to dry?

I would you prefer that you show some decency. To a friend.

And if you were referred a case in which a friend

was accused of a crime,

would you turn your back on your job?

I would recuse myself.

If I didn't protect my sources,

I wouldn't be writing about how Gordon

is preparing to submit his resignation,

due in part to the swirling rumours

of bribery reported in my newspaper.

If it's information you want from me,

you won't be getting it.

Not about that. But there is one claim I need verified.

Is it true that you've been reinstated

in the Crown Attorney's office?

No comment.

Chadwick Vaughan.

Look at you, a free man.

Justice chooses its own path.

Everyone in this room knows the truth.

They might smile at you in public,

but believe me,

they know.

You'll be hearing the word "killer"

whispered behind your back for the rest of your life.

Hm.

I don't much care what people whisper.

Fact that they think I'm a ruthless killer

may end up being to my benefit.

We'll see about that.

Not everyone in this city is a coward.

Good luck to you in your career, Chief Constable.

Just remember,

the man who put you there is dead.

And you've made more enemies than friends.

I apologize for locking you in our cells, Miss Longfellow.

Are you kidding me?

I was arrested for murder by Detective Murdoch.

Ah... Hoowee!

What a story.

Well, if we hadn't discovered the Holland twins' ruse,

it might not have had a happy ending.

Were you not worried about possibly facing the noose?

No! No, not for a minute.

The great detective always gets his man.

And to think, I live right across the hall from him!