Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 12, Episode 14 - Sins of The Father - full transcript

When a man dies in a deliberately set fire, Murdoch's investigation reveals some shocking personal history.

(THEME MUSIC)



(SOFT PIANO MUSIC)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

I'm sorry, Miss Darling,
but I have to counsel you

- against undergoing this procedure.
- Why? It's safe, isn't it?

For the most part, yes.

But there's...

always a risk with surgery.

And the size of your chest is not
something that needs to be fixed.

There's no reason to take on any risk



- for merely cosmetic purposes.
- "Merely"?

Doctor, this is not a whim.

I have considered this at length.

Then perhaps you should consider that

you don't need to alter your body
to be a beautiful young woman.

You already are.

I have had to endure the curse

of a large bosom since I was in school.

All my friends have youthful figures.

I will have the same.

What exactly do you mean by risk?

The other doctor assured me

that the procedure was perfectly safe.

It should be, but when we're dealing...



I am willing to do anything
for Mirelle's happiness.

What does her mother say?

Her mother died some years ago.

Mirelle's happiness
is my obligation now.

I will pay any price to ensure that.

It's not a matter of money, Mr. Darling.

There are no guarantees
with any kind of surgery,

- especially one involving anaesthetic.
- So is it safe or not?

It is as safe as...

- any operation.
- Then you shall do it.

Murdoch. Where've you been?

- I had some business to attend to.
- Well, don't take your hat off.

There's been a fire at a
rooming house in the Ward.

Crabtree's down there now.
There's a report of a body.

Sir.

(TENSE MUSIC)

(WOMAN): Who is it?

(MAN): There's not enough
of you on that side!

- Get that hose in there!
- Yes, sir!

(MURDOCH): The body is burned.

No wallet...

identification or...

- calling cards.
- It doesn't seem.

Sir, you wouldn't expect a chap living

it, I suppose, in a
boarding house like this.

He was a smoker. Likely
how the fire started.

Oh, my God...

Sir?

Do you know these people?

That's me.

What?

The boy?

Sir...

does that mean this man is...

It's my father.

All right, thank you.

Sir... why don't you...

- Why don't you sit for a moment?
- I'm fine, George.

Have you spoken to the
owner of the building?

Uh, no. One of the tenants seems
to think he's out of town, sir.

Did any of the neighbours
know Mr. Murdoch?

I gather he moved in quite recently.

I suppose I should gather his things.

The fire marshal doesn't want
us in there just yet, sir.

He says it's too dangerous.

I'll wait at the Station House, then.

Notify me when it's safe to go inside.

Detective? I...

One thing I thought peculiar:

why would your father still
be wearing his overcoat

sitting at home for a drink?

When you're intent on drinking,
I suppose you don't pay much mind

to removing your overcoat.

William.

I'm so sorry.

Oh. Thank you, but really...

I know the two of you weren't close,

but it's never easy to lose a parent.

I suppose not.

But I haven't found it
to be difficult either.

I should notify Jasper.

Julia, I assure you I'm quite all right.

This is your father, William.

I'm sure no one will find it unusual

if you don't finish
your paperwork today.

No. But there's no reason
to postpone it, either.

Julia, thank you for coming down here

but I assure you, I'm not being cold.

Obviously I'm not happy
the man is dead, but...

there's nothing I can do for him now.

I'll take care of the coroner's report.

That's not necessary.

- Miss Hart is capable.
- (MAN): Detective Murdoch.

(JULIA SIGHING)

Sir. This duffel...

it's badly burned, but I
believe this is the type

they give the men when
they're released from the Don.

Harry Murdoch was known to run
afoul of the law from time to time.

- What's that?
- A stack of handbills.

God... heaven... salvation.

I did not know my father
to be a God-fearing man.

Perhaps he found some form of
peace at the end of his life.

It doesn't seem to specify
any church in particular.

Well, that's odd...

There's another overcoat here.

But he was wearing his.

Why would a man living in such a
place as this have two overcoats?

It doesn't fit.

This may not have been his place.

Sir, I spoke to the neighbours again,

no one remembers even seeing
the man who rented the room.

Well, perhaps the real tenant
was recently released from jail,

and he let Harry use his room

- for a few days while he was out of town.
- Without his duffel?

Sir, I hesitate to say it, but
it does seem like there is some...

malfeasance involved.

The simplest explanation

is that they were two
drunks sharing a bottle...

a blaze broke out, and only
one woke out of his stupor

in time to escape the fire.

And the other chap is
nowhere to be found.

I mean, surely it's a tad suspicious.

It is unusual, but we won't know
anything until we find that man.

There is some good news on that front.

The lads have found the building's
landlord. They're bringing him

- to the Station House now.
- Very good.

Nelson. Nelson was his name.

Is that his Christian name or surname?

I just ask for their money,
not their life's story.

When did he first take the room?

Thursday last week.
Wednesday maybe. About then.

Where did he come from?

As I say, I don't ask these things.

What did he look like?

Older fellow. 60s maybe.

Grey hair, unkempt. Long hair for a man.

And did he tell you where
he'd previously been staying?

You can usually make
a guess on that front.

Most of the men I get come from the Don.

We have a name, "Nelson", and a
description. But no sign of him yet.

He could know something
about your father's death.

He may have been
present during the fire.

Well, we need to find him.

Well, sir, even if he
does know something,

what would it matter? No
crime has been committed.

This was likely the last man
that saw your father alive.

You don't want to talk to him?

Frankly, sir, I don't
see what good it could do.

Sirs. I've traced the key

to a rooming house on Queen Street.

The landlord there

confirmed that a chap
checked in about a week ago

and gave his name as "Harry".

Fine work, George.

I suppose I'll settle his
bill and gather his things.

(SOFT PIANO MUSIC)



(KNOCKING) (WOMAN): Hello?

Oh, I'm sorry. I...

I'm looking for Harry
Murdoch. Does he not live here?

- He did.
- What...

But he telephoned me only yesterday.

He can't have moved on already.
Are you a friend of his?

I'm a police detective.

Oh, no.

Has something happened to Harry?

I'm afraid he died yesterday evening.

No...

Well...

This... this can't be.

We were supposed to see one another...

catch up after all these years.

Had you known him long?

Yes!

I... I hadn't seen him recently, but...

but we used to be close.

Oh, I can't believe this. What happened?

There was a fire.

Oh... Harry.

Oh, he was such a kind soul.

Wait...

You're a police detective.

You're his son, aren't you?

I am.

William.

- He mentioned me?
- Yes, of course. But...

I know you, dear.

Susan Kelly. Don't you remember me?

I even took care of you while he
was working, don't you remember?

I don't remember much from that time.

Well, we have to tell everyone. I'm
sure he has friends in the city...

Yes, I'm planning a small service

in a day or two at St. Paul's.

You can inquire as to the
particulars from the Station House.

Good day, Miss Kelly.

It was difficult to get many details

because of how badly
burned the body was.

However, I believe the victim
was involved in an altercation.

A fight?

Someone attacked him.

Whether or not he fought
back, I can't tell.

What kind of altercation? How severe?

His hyoid bone is broken.

All other evidence has been burned away.

- He was strangled.
- Yes.

There was no smoke in his lungs, so

I believe it happened shortly
before the fire broke out.

I'm sorry, Detective.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

So, we have a murder
investigation on our hands.

And this fellow Nelson
is our prime suspect.

It would appear that
he murdered my father,

then set the building on fire
to cover up his actions...

which would explain why he
vanished without a trace.

Murdoch. You don't have
to do this, you know.

Are you questioning my
ability to remain impartial?

No. But it would be
more than understandable

- if you wanted to sit this one out.
- I don't.

Good man.

(SIGHING)

I will not be performing the
breast reduction on Mirelle Darling.

She is your patient.

I believe the procedure is unnecessary.

It's not unnecessary
in the patient's view.

No, but it is in mine.

What would you propose?

We say no,

they go to another hospital
and have it done there?

Or a private practice maybe,

to be butchered by some sawbones?

Well, if all doctors of good
conscience refuse to do it,

then perhaps the
patient will reconsider.

These people have money.
They'll get what they want.

And we can provide the best surgeon

and the highest level of safety.

This procedure goes against everything

we're striving to do in this profession.

You may feel that way.

But to deny this operation is to
put the patient at greater risk.

- And if something goes wrong?
- That won't happen.

You can't be certain of that,
that's entirely my point.

That won't happen because you
will not be performing the surgery.

If you can't handle the
responsibilities of this kind of surgery,

I will undertake it myself.

- Did you find him? Nelson?
- Sir, no.

But Station House Two received a report

of a break-in on Markham Street.

The burglar was described as a man

- in his 60s with grey hair.
- Could be him.

- I'll inform the detective.
- No.

Maybe we should handle this on our own.

We can't be sure it's him yet.

William, thank you for seeing us.

I was so... saddened
upon hearing about Harry

that I went out straight away and
found another of his old friends.

Leonard Vasser.

Detective William Murdoch.

- Pleased.
- We were thinking...

it might be nice to do something
to honour your father's memory.

- Such as?
- Oh...

a gathering of some sort?

A wake? He did love a party.

It's... it's a...

it's a hard thing to lose someone.

all you want to do is, uh...

share in whatever
memories are left to you.

I believe the funeral
will be sufficient.

Had you also known my father
a long time, Mr. Vasser?

Leonard, please.

I... knew your father
as long as Susan here.

I shared a drink with
him only yesterday.

- What time was that?
- It was early. About two o'clock.

He died just a few hours later.

Oh. Lordy, lordy...

Did he seem at all...

agitated or anything of the sort?

No, no.

Why would you ask that?

Well, I regret to
inform the both of you,

that Harry Murdoch did
not die as the result

of an accidental fire.

He was murdered.

- No...
- How is that possible?

- He would never...
- Oh!

He was a friend to all he met.

So you knew of no one who
may have wished him harm?

- Or held a grudge?
- I can't imagine...

You must find out who did this, William.

Yes. In fact, I should
see to that presently.

Oh, one more thing.

Do either of you know a man named Nelson

who may have known my father?

No. I can't say that I do.

(KNOCKING) (JULIA): William.

Pardon the interruption.

Of course. These folks were just...

Dr. Julia Ogden. I'm William's wife.

Leonard Vasser. This is Susan Kelly.

Old friends of Harry's.

- I'm so sorry for your loss.
- Well, it's been hard,

but Harry would have been so pleased

to see what a wonderful
woman his son married.

As I said, I'll send word as
soon as arrangements are made.

William, I was just
going to suggest lunch.

Perhaps we should
invite Leonard and Susan?

It will give you all
a chance to reminisce.

I came from the grocer's
and I heard someone inside.

I thought it was my nephew Timothy.

But it wasn't Timothy.
It was an old man.

His hair was grey? Unkempt?

Exactly. When I saw
him, I started screaming.

- And then he ran off?
- Once I grabbed hold

of that fireplace poker, he sure did.

I put the fear of God
in that old fellow.

I don't doubt it.

- Was anything taken?
- Not a thing.

(WOMAN SIGHING)

I stopped him in time.

But he did try to get my sideboard.

He was trying to steal your sideboard?

Obviously. He dragged
it across the room.

Did you have something valuable in it?

No. It's valuable.

It's a sideboard.

Yes, of course. Do you mind
if we have a quick look?

Be my guest.

Excuse me.

This thing is bloody worthless.

I can't believe he wanted to steal this.

Maybe he was trying to get behind it.

Sir.

He wasn't dragging this
to look behind it...

he was trying to reach something.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(APPRECIATIVE WHISTLE)

It's a small fortune.

It was a summer storm
like I'd never seen

and the rain was just pouring
through a hole in the roof.

And your father came over

and went right out through
the thunder and the lightning,

and climbed up there and
started hammering away.

Well, after a minute or
two, the whole thing gave way

and he came tumbling down
right into the living room!

Oh!

(LAUGHING)

The man was soaked
through. Boy, was he angry.

But once he stopped
cursing a blue streak,

he found some wood; he went
right back up there again

and patched the thing up. Nothing
in the world would have stopped him.

Well, he certainly was stubborn.

Leonard spent a lot of
time with us that summer.

- So you knew William as a boy.
- I did. I did.

I can't say that I'd have
recognized you, William,

but I was around in those days, and...

I remember how you admired your father.

Well, that was a long time ago.

Still, he cared for you.

He was so proud you'd
become a policeman.

Well, if all of that is true, it
wasn't a feeling he shared with me...

or my brother.

But the most important thing
about my father's death right now

is that his killer be found.

So, if you'll excuse me.

(CONSTABLE CRABTREE): Sirs! I spoke
to the woman who owns the house,

she had no idea anything
was hidden in the clock.

So, an acquaintance just stopped
by and stuck $500 in there?

Well she said the clock
was there when she moved in.

So, I went and spoke
to Property Records.

I found out that a previous
owner was a Mrs. Elizabeth Nelson.

"Nelson".

- When did she sell the house?
- 1886. But sirs,

I have a feeling the truth stretches
back even further than that.

- Why's that?
- Sir,

these notes were issued by the
First Dominion Bank of Toronto.

Now, they've been closed since 1878.

Nearly 30 years ago.

Right, that's when they were
bought out by Toronto Imperial.

So, I went in and had
a visit with Imperial.

They said when they took
over from First Dominion,

all the Dominion notes were exchanged.

Maybe someone who collected them
for the bank decided to keep them.

Usually the bank would
destroy the notes.

Presumably, they would track the numbers

to ensure that they didn't
buy back the same note twice.

Yes, exactly, sir. That's
just what they did. However...

not all the bills were bought back.

- Lost or forgotten presumably.
- Here.

This $10 bill was never
returned. In fact...

there's a whole sequence of 10s
here that are marked as illicit.

These serial numbers
are all in sequence.

- Stolen?
- Not stolen, sir.

It says here it was
used to pay a ransom.

It was a kidnapping. 1870.

A very wealthy family, the Penhursts,

had their infant son taken.

They paid a $2000 ransom, but...

the child was never
returned. Never seen again.

And the notes were
from the Dominion bank?

Sir, the serial numbers were
noted. It's the same money.

Nelson must have been involved.

If he's over 60 now, he would
have been a young man in 1870.

He must have hidden the
bank notes all these years,

thinking he'd go back to
them in case of an emergency.

An emergency as in... he
killed a man and had to flee?

The house where the money
was hidden... where is it?

Markham Street.

"Markham Street"...

(SOFT MUSIC)

I was here.

It was the summer I visited my father.

It would have been 1870.

The same year the
Penhurst child was taken.

There's no proof that your
father had anything to do with it.

He was here and he knew the
man that was after the money.

There's no use in pretending otherwise.

My father was involved
in that kidnapping.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

The kidnapping of a child
is a serious crime, William.

How can you be sure
your father was involved?

He was staying with
a friend that summer.

At the house from the photograph.

And this friend is the man
that may have killed him?

I knew him as Danny.

We looked into the previous
owner, Elizabeth Nelson,

and she had a son named Daniel.

So he was staying with this man,

and you think he helped
him with the kidnapping?

It explains almost everything.

There was money left
over from the ransom.

Perhaps Harry wanted it, or

perhaps he was blackmailing Nelson.

You're ready to believe
the worst of him.

It could have been merely an
altercation between two old friends.

But these were two old friends

who committed a heinous crime together.

You don't know what happened.

The child was never seen again.

I was actually starting to
feel something for the man.

Not... grief, but something.

He had friends who cared about him.

Perhaps he had some redeeming qualities.

I'm sure he did.

Now he's left me with this.

His only legacy is an
obligation to right his wrongs.

Sirs? I've looked into Daniel Nelson.

He's been in and out of
the Don Jail for decades.

But nothing more than petty
theft or drunken fistfights.

- What about the kidnapping?
- That's where it gets interesting, sir.

For the year leading
up to the kidnapping,

he worked for the Penhurst
family as a gardener.

Now, he was questioned
by the police of course,

but exonerated thanks to an alibi.

- How strong was the alibi?
- I imagine he had a very good one.

Mr. Nelson had an alibi
because he had an accomplice:

Harry Murdoch.

Sir, I'm very sorry.
It must be difficult

to learn such a thing of your father.

Yes, well, it's too late to
bring Harry Murdoch to justice.

Mr. Nelson remains at large.

He kidnapped a child over 30 years ago

and, very likely, killed my father.

Well, the lads are
combing the streets now

for anybody matching his description.

There must be someone
who knows where he's gone.

Just got out of jail, didn't he?

Sir. Less than two weeks ago.

Well, he would have spent
time with someone in there.

The surgery was successful.

I'm glad.

I hope you understand
why I asked to step aside.

I do. In your situation,
I may have done the same.

But I have a hospital to think about.

Procedures that bring
in fees and donations

they pay for more than themselves.

They help us save lives.

Well, if this surgery allows for that,

then perhaps the small
risk is worth taking.

- Indeed.
- Doctor?

The patient is feverish.

- Heart rate?
- 105.

And she's having difficulty breathing.

- I believe it may be sepsis.
- (WHEEZING)

You were a cell mate of Daniel Nelson's?

Yes.

Do you know where he planned
to go upon his release?

- He was on the path.
- The path?

To salvation.

- He was religious?
- He had seen the light.

I had shown him.

- You are a Christian?
- I am a Christadelphian.

Repentance is the way to
reconciliation with God.

- And Nelson believed this as well?
- Of course.

He was in Christ.

Is this part of the
teachings of your church?

This is the statement of our faith.

This was the work of my Daniel?

A stack of these was
found in his room, yes.

He was spreading the word.

He finally did it, didn't he?

- Did what?
- Confess.

(BRACKENREID): So, what did
you learn about Daniel Nelson?

His cell mate knew he had secrets

he wanted to confess but
didn't know what they were.

I believe he intended to turn
himself in for the kidnapping,

and he urged Harry
Murdoch to do the same.

That's why your father had one
of those pamphlets in his room.

Which would suggest the two of them met

to discuss it prior to him being killed.

Clearly, Harry Murdoch
did not want to be saved.

But if Nelson confessed,

then they would both hang.

I believe Harry went to Nelson's
apartment that night to kill him,

so that his confession
would never be heard.

But Nelson got the better of him,
set the place on fire and then fled.

The Constables are
searching for him now.

- Nothing yet.
- We'll find him.

Your father will get justice.

I don't know that he deserves it.

Everyone does.

He kidnapped a child, sir,

a child that is likely dead,

and evaded punishment his entire life.

Where is the justice in that?

You need to try to find
a way to forgive him.

Why would I want to do that?

My father was no saint, Murdoch.

But I choose to remember
the good things about him.

You should try and do the same.

Sir, I am not going to trick myself

into having sympathy for an awful man

simply so that I can have peace of mind.

No, but you'll wind up there eventually.

How do you know?

Because you did with your father?

Or because you hope
your son will with you?

What are you suggesting?

A man who turns his back on his family

can't simply return on a whim

and expect to find forgiveness
conveniently waiting for him.

I think you'd best get out of my office

before you say any more.

- (JULIA): You're angry.
- What if I am?

Well, that anger comes from the
fact that you cared about him.

I had simply hoped for better.

You hadn't seen the man for 10 years.

There's no reason to hope he'd changed.

That's not entirely true.

You'd spoken to him?

He sent me a telegram
the day before he died.

What? What did it say?

That he wanted to speak to me.

What about, I don't know.

Then you thought he might have changed.

I allowed myself to
entertain the possibility.

I thought that maybe
he wanted to apologize,

- or at the very least reconcile.
- Well, perhaps he did.

Well, he may have considered it.

But instead of meeting with his son,

he drank the day away
with an old friend,

then went off to kill
another man. (SIGHING)

He was...

He was my father.

But he was worthless
until his last breath.

Of course I'm angry.

I'm angry and ashamed.

Harry Murdoch died
attempting to kill a man.

No.

Not Harry! He would never...

What do you recall
about the summer of 1870?

That was the summer I visited.

That's right...

Come to think of it, he
wasn't around much that year.

I figured he was taking care of you.

In fact, he may have been
spending much of his time

with a man named Daniel Nelson.

You've mentioned him
before. Who was this man?

A criminal.

Someone who arranged a kidnapping.

Dear God.

You think that he's the
one that killed Harry?

Likely in self defense.

Well, you must find him. You
must to bring him to justice.

It's your duty.

(KNOCKING) Sir.

The lads have found something.

- Over there.
- Right. Thank you.

- Mr. Nelson is here?
- Sir, the minister says

he's been here the last two days.

Hello.

Detective William Murdoch, Toronto
Constabulary. Are you Daniel Nelson?

William...

You've come. I'm so glad.

- You're... glad the police are here?
- Of course.

The time has come for me to confess.

I am a murderer.

It was the summer of 1870.

We thought it would be easy.

I'd been working for a rich
family. I knew the house.

We'd take the child; we'd get the money,

and the child would be returned.

But it wasn't.

When we went to retrieve the money...

we left the infant alone.

One of us was supposed to
stay to look after him, but...

we didn't trust one another.

- What happened?
- We gave him pillows and a blanket.

That's what you're
supposed to do, isn't it?

But when we came back,

the blanket was over
his face. He was dead.

It was our fault.

Our greed had made us killers.

Never in my life did I
feel whole after that day.

But you already had the money.

I could never bring
myself to spend my share.

It was tainted with blood.

So I hid it away. I
thought maybe one day,

my guilt would fade. But no.

You did eventually go
back for it, though.

To return it, along with my confession.

Harry Murdoch spent his share.

I imagine so, yes.

He didn't carry the same guilt.

Of course he did.

He may have spent his money,

but it tortured him nonetheless.

I saw no evidence of that.

He wore it on him every day.

I don't believe he'd once been drunk

before that day.

At least his pain is gone now,

even if his soul remains unclean.

You urged him to confess.

He wasn't ready. He was
open to the possibility.

If he'd only had a little longer...

his confession would have
meant even more than mine.

He was the only one who knew
where the body was buried.

Ahem. So, Harry Murdoch

did not want to confess.

And he wanted to stop
you from doing the same.

No. No. No, Harry
didn't want to stop me.

Then why did you kill him?

(SIGHING) Detective...

I stand here before you

and God himself

ready to confess all of my sins.

I am responsible for
only one death: the child.

I did not kill your father.

He shouldn't have done it.

Who?

Forbes.

I told him!

It wasn't his fault.

I was there every step of
the way. He did all he could.

He shouldn't have done it at all.

It's his job.

- It's our job.
- It's our job to help people,

not to put them at risk.

He kills this poor girl
and goes about his day?

There should be consequences!

People come here for all
sorts of reasons, Doctor.

We can't control those reasons,

we can't pick and choose.

All we can do is good work

inside these walls.

(SIGHING) You can blame
Dr. Forbes if you like,

but he did his best.

(PHONE RINGING)

So, do we have our killer?

Yes, sir.

I believe we do.

Thank you for coming in.

I thought you would both like to know

that my father's killer has been caught.

Oh, thank the Lord.

At least Harry will be laid to
rest with some measure of peace.

And I've decided to take
your advice, Miss Kelly.

- Oh?
- I don't believe my father

would have wanted a formal burial.

He hadn't been a God-fearing
man in quite some time.

He tried. On occasion.

I believe he would have
preferred the words of his friends

over that of a priest's.

So, if you'll join me,

I'd like to scatter his ashes.

If you think that's what
he would have wanted.

Where are we going, William?

Here.

My father often spoke of this place.

He certainly did recently.

Well... it's not much to
speak of if I'm honest.

It's where he would have
wanted us to do this.

There's only one thing
about my father's death

that still doesn't add up.

Mr. Nelson was going to return
his share of the ransom money.

But it wasn't half. It was a quarter.

So?

What does that suggest to you?

- I haven't the slightest idea.
- It suggests to me

that four people were
involved in the kidnapping:

Mr. Nelson, Harry
Murdoch, and two others.

What of it? It could have been anyone.

It happened 30 years ago.

I think you're getting
ahead of yourself, William.

Daniel Nelson couldn't be trusted.

Oh?

So you did know him?

Only yesterday, you told me you didn't.

- We don't know him.
- Then how do you know he can't be trusted?

It's all right, Susan. We
can be honest with William.

The truth is...

we knew Nelson a little
bit, only through Harry.

And that was years ago.

The man was deranged,

even back then. He hated us.

We hid the fact because
we were concerned.

If he said we have anything
to do with his crimes,

it's all in his imagination.

What is it you think he would have said?

What does it matter? The
man was a lifelong criminal.

All you have is his word.

No, please,

why don't you illuminate me
as to the truth, Mr. Vasser,

you met with my father
the day that he died.

- What did you discuss?
- Nothing.

Old times.

I believe he told you that
Mr. Nelson intended to confess.

I assumed that Harry
Murdoch left that meeting

to take care of business.

But that's not what happened, is it?

- How in the hell should I know?
- You know damn well!

Harry went to see Nelson,
but not to kill him;

to warn him that the two of you
intended to stop him from confessing.

To stop both of them.

- You can't prove a word of this.
- No.

But I know it's true.

You pretended to be his friend...

let me believe the worst of my father.

That his last days were
spent fixed on murder.

You were going to let me
believe it the rest of my life!

We did nothing.

Don't you dare deny it.

I know the truth.

Now, you've done enough to
tarnish my father's memory.

It's time he got the
justice he deserves.

No... listen... don't...

Why do you think I brought you out here,

- to the middle of nowhere?
- Stop.

(GRUNTING)

It won't be the two of us
left out here to die, William.

You'll die... just like your father.

Trying to be a hero. Except this time,

no one will find the body.

Oi! Stop right there, the pair of you.

(STAMMERING) You don't understand!

He was trying to kill
us. He pulled his gun!

Save your breath for
the courtroom, madam.

Mr. Darling,

please accept my condolences.

Thank you.

No one could have predicted...

This doctor should never
have gone through with it.

This is all his fault.

If he knew that it was dangerous,

he should never have
gone through with it!

He should have said something.

Like you did.

Mr. Darling, Dr. Forbes is one of
the best surgeons in the country.

If he loses his position
here, nothing will change.

A lesser surgeon will take his place.

More people will die.

My daughter...

I know and I'm so sorry.

You still haven't got anything on us.

Other than the fact you've
confessed to killing Harry Murdoch.

You'll get a chance to question

the integrity of Mr.
Nelson's testimony in court.

But I suspect a jury will find him

to be a very credible witness.

Especially once his story is
corroborated by my father's.

- Your father never said a thing.
- No.

He didn't get the chance.

But on the day he died,

my father asked me to meet him here.

He was going to tell me the story.

Show me where the child is buried,

which I suspect is very near to here.

He was going to set things right.

Now he has.

Lads.

(SOMBRE PIANO MUSIC)

(MURDOCH): Thank you.
That was very nice.

Father.

Murdoch.

Sir, I was out of line earlier.

I was speaking of my own experience.

I didn't intend to
suggest anything about you.

I think you did.

Maybe.

- But I was wrong.
- Not completely.

Sir.

The constables found
the remains of the child.

They were right next to the stone wall

where your father wanted to meet you.

Thank you.

I suppose that will give the
family some measure of closure.

Sir, I think that kind of
resolution is no small thing.

I'm very sorry for your loss.

It's a good thing you
did for him, William.

What's that?

He carried his guilt his whole life.

That couldn't be undone.

But you were able to bring it to light.

Only after he'd died.

But he wanted to confess before he died.

That's why he wanted
to come and see you.

He'd decided to do the right thing.

And he did sacrifice himself for it.

I suppose I should admire him for that.

If only he'd done it sooner.

Well, he could have walked into
any Station House to confess.

He wanted to see you...

... because you were both
seeking the same thing.

Resolution... reconciliation.

And now we'll never have it.

No...

But perhaps the fact
that you both wanted it

is enough.

(UPLIFTING PIANO AND VIOLIN MUSIC)