Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 12, Episode 17 - Darkness Before the Dawn - Part 1 - full transcript

As Murdoch seeks a promotion, a constable is shot in a botched raid on an opium den led by Watts.

Gentleman, the candidate
I offer you today

represents an opportunity for Toronto

to embrace the future,

to let all know they are welcome
here, no matter what religion.

And an opportunity to
hire the finest policeman

this city has ever known.

Detective William Murdoch,

your time has come.


thank you.

Over here, please! This way!

Oh, John!


- Inspector.
- Watts.

What's going on?

- Water.
- I can see that. I mean this...

I've taken up the sport of running.

- What for?
- It clears the head.

- So does a good drop of scotch.
- I have a favour to ask, Inspector.

- There is a case I want to look into.
- Well then, look.

This case is somewhat in the
jurisdiction of Station House One.

Lucille Palmer was a witness
in a case of mine years back.

Bright young thing. She was found
dead in an opium den nine days ago.

That happens.

Yes, but Lucille didn't use
dope in excess, she was shot.

- Who's handling the case?
- Inspector McWorthy.

There has been no progress since
the day after her body was found.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind you
looking into Station One's work...

but I've got something
cooking at the moment,

and I don't want you mucking it up.

- So I can't do this?
- I'm saying mind your step.

Now, get yourself cleaned
up in the water closet.

Running may clear your head,

but it's not doing much
for the air in here.

Oh, Murdoch.

Here, take these.

- Sir?
- These are my way of saying goodbye.

- You're leaving again?
- Not me. You.

The inspector position
at Station House Five.

Slorach's gone, and I've
recommended you for the job.

And I'm not the only one.

I'm afraid that's a waste of time.

You don't want it?

Sir, we both know that the furthest

a Catholic can advance in the
Constabulary is, well, this.

It seems the times, they are a-changing.

You have a friend in high
places. And he's a lot like you.

- A Catholic?
- A progressive type.

Allen Templeton.

His father-in-law is the
head of the Board of Control.

Now, he likes to play kingmaker,

and he's got his eye on you.

It can't hurt to try, Murdoch.

Mr. Johnston is expected
at the funeral home,

and when you return, Mr. Morgan
will be ready for the incinerator.

Detective. What can I do for you?

I'd like to see Lucille
Palmer's body, Miss Hart.

Lucille Palmer...

- Gunshot to the chest?
- Yes.

Have you recovered a bullet?

No, it went through the
body but was not found.

Detective, isn't this
Inspector McWorthy's case?

I believe so, but I've
a personal interest.

That's... amusing?

You policemen have a lot
of "personal interests."

Miss Palmer's best friend, Isabel
Carmichael, identified the remains.

Still trying to discern
the source of the amusement.

She came here on the arm of
Constable John Brackenreid.

The two looked a little
more than just cozy. Please.

- I guess the uniform works on some women.
- But not you, Miss Hart?

I'm aiming a little higher.


Miss Newsome.

You've not come to
sue me again, have you?

Not at all. But I am here
on a professional errand.

- Is that right?
- I am articling with the Crown Attorney.

He has asked me to research
all files in relation

to the enforcement of
the Chinese laundry tax.

Good Lord. What did you do wrong?

Nothing at all. In fact,
I came top of my class.

Well, trust a lawyer to work
that into the conversation.

Trust a constable to take offence.

Anyway, this is a plum assignment

and I intend to do my best work on it.

So if you will be so kind as to point me

in the direction of the
records, I shall be on my way.

I'm afraid I can't.

- Pardon?
- Those files can't leave the station, Miss Newsome.

While you're here, you can
examine them as long as you like.

It seems I'll be spending some
time here with you, then...

- Constable.
- Well, don't worry.

We don't need to talk.

Oh, I have to adjust
some of the parameters.

Thank you.

Allen Templeton suggested the promotion

and has already written a
letter of recommendation.

Well you certainly deserve it.

It's complimentary, to be sure,
but doesn't the man realize

he's pursuing a lost cause?

Perhaps he believes he can
convince the Board of Control.

You do have a stellar record.

And now, you've literally written
the book on police investigation.

With your help.

I've had a good record
for a number of years.

That's never been enough to overcome

anti-Catholic sentiment before.

Perhaps that's about to change.

Progress is slow, but
it does come, William.

I am proof of that.

I suppose you're right.

- Anything is possible.
- Precisely.

But is this something you actually
want? It would be a big change.

A supervising position,

a completely different station house.

Perhaps I could formalize a system

to pass on my investigative
techniques. I...

You know, Julia, I believe
this is something I want.

It's not the only thing, it appears.

One of your detectives has been
sniffing around a case of mine.

- I'd like you to tug his leash.
- Sniffing how?

He visited Miss Hart,
asked about my business.

The victim was an acquaintance.

Doesn't sound like he's overstepped.

Whatever Detective Watts thinks
he knows about Lucille Palmer,

she wasn't what she seemed.

Pretty girl from a good family, right?

Well, her body was found
in that abandoned building

near Union Station where
the dope fiends like to go.

The man that was with her was seen

boarding a train out
of town the next day.

- And that's where the investigation ended, did it?
- No.

I put out the man's description

to the railway lines
and law enforcement.

What more would you have me do?

- Fair enough.
- That's what I thought,

- so tell your man to back off.
- I'll pass it along.

Throw some weight behind it, Tom.

I know about your plan to move
Detective Murdoch up the ladder.

You hear that McPherson from Hamilton

is making noises about
moving to the big city?

- Good solid Ulsterman.
- Is that so?

I could talk him out of it,

leave the way clear for Murdoch,

but you'd have to
make it worth my while.


I knew I'd find you here, Thomas.

Think about what I said.

Lovely to see you, Mrs. Brackenreid.

Let's have a seat.

- When did you get back?
- Last night.

Everything is just fine at the house.

John says you've been checking in on it.

It's a good house.

Can't have it falling
apart from neglect.

I didn't ask you to move out.

You left first.

Let's just say we've both made
mistakes and leave it at that.

But you're back now,

so let's put the past behind us
and get the family back together.


I've had a lot of time to
think about this, Thomas. And...

John's a grown man.

Bobby's off to boarding school.

There is no reason to
keep up appearances.

- "Appearances"? What are you on about?
- I've made a decision...

I want you to give me a divorce.

It will come as no surprise to anyone,

given the year we've had.

Well, it's a bloody surprise to me.

Well, maybe you haven't
been paying attention.

This is the most ridiculous
idea you've ever had.

And if you think I'm
going to agree to it,

then you've forgotten
who you're married to,

Mrs. Brackenreid.


You're up bright and
early, Miss Newsome.

If you hadn't noticed,
I put all the files

pertinent to your laundry
tax case right here

at Constable Higgins' desk.

That desk is very dirty.

No it isn't.

Be that as it may, this is my desk.

Do feel free to take your
typewriter if you need it.

Will you be using your
typewriter, Constable?

Yes. Yes, I will.
Right here, at my desk.

- Hm.
- George.

You can't let her get away with this.

No, I won't.

In fact...

you'll just have to share.

Suit yourself.

Ah! Thank you, Detective Watts.


You two. Clear off.

Higgins, put the kettle on.

Watts, stay where you are.

Your case is a dead end.

Do you really believe that?

McWorthy said they tried
and couldn't find the man

who killed Miss Palmer.

Now, if you're caught
sniffing around again,

Murdoch's chances at becoming
an inspector will be in jeopardy.

Oh. So, it's for the
best that I back away.

I never said that. You did.

Mr. Templeton. What a pleasure.

- Sorry to disturb you.
- Oh, no. We're finished.

I was hoping to have a few
words with... Detective Murdoch.

Oh, right.

- Allen Templeton.
- Yes, of course.

Thank you for your support.

It means a great deal to me.

It's my pleasure, Detective.

You do realize that endorsing me

for this position will use
some of your political capital?

On balance, I expect it
to be a worthy expenditure.

The Catholic constituency
is rising in influence.

I'll make sure that they know
that I supported their man

for this prestigious position.

- I am to be a pawn, then?
- Hardly.

I see great things for
you, Detective Murdoch.

I wanted you to be the first to know...

I've handed in my
resignation as City Coroner.

You've decided to become
a surgeon full time.

Yes, I plan to dedicate
myself to that alone.

Good for you.

You do seem to be going
from success to success.

I don't want you to worry
about your position here.

I will put in a good
word for the new coroner.

I appreciate that, Dr. Ogden.

But you must be aware I don't
want to work for a new coroner.

I want that job for myself.

Your ambition is admirable, Miss Hart.

And perhaps with a few
more years' experience...

and hopefully down the road,
when minds are more open,

you will earn the position you want.

That's very sensible advice.

Thank you for being such a reliable
assistant these past two years.

I've been grateful for the opportunity.

All the best.

I've seen you around here.

I thought there was more to you.

Doctor Ogden is finally
resigning as the coroner.

You must be happy.

I will be... once the position is mine.

Are you still prepared to help?

You've always done good work.

Is it good enough for you to
stick your neck out with the Board?

I'll see what I can do.

I won't be held back.

And I'm not going to be
able to change the world.

I expect to finish
quite soon, Constable.

Well... I'll be so sorry to see you go.

- I thought as much.
- Right, then.

I'm off on my patrol.

He's sweet on you, you know.


Detective. You wanted to see me?

Indeed. I need your help.

I heard that you are keeping
company with Isabel Carmichael?

Yes, I met her in an acting
class I've been attending.

Acting? You need to take
a class in pretending?

- Well... I...
- Never mind.

Isabel was an acquaintance
of Lucille Palmer,

recently deceased. Is that true?

- Yes. They were close friends.
- Then, you knew her?

I, uh, yes...

Did you hear that she fell into drugs?

I heard she had become
interested in opium.

I want you to look
into this for me, John.

Unofficially, you understand.

Get your lady friend talking.

Find out who Miss Palmer
was keeping company with,

who may have wanted to hurt her.

But don't let Isabel
know why you're asking.

You want me to... to lie to Isabel?

Let us not think of it as a lie

but as an exercise in... pretending.

Your monologue today was very poised.

Thank you, John.

I asked Miss Connors
if we could do a scene

- together next week in class.
- I'd like that.

Maybe something from a tragedy?

I think I've had enough
tragedy for the time being.

Yes, of course.



If only you'd known her.

She was so charming, but...

she changed.

Changed how?

Had she been associating
with the wrong people?

I tried to counsel her, but
she wouldn't listen to me.

All of us tried to help.

Her friends,


- Arthur!
- Hello, sis.


Ugh. You should have
ordered the deviled crabs.

Arthur, mind your
manners for heaven's sake.

Excuse him, he's utterly spoiled.

What are the riveting events of the day

you and your young
constable are discussing?


and what happened to her.

I see.

She certainly is a topic of
conversation isn't she, John?

I'm to meet with the Board tonight.

You'll do fine.

If I'm honest, I'm a tad more
nervous than I thought I'd be.

Is everything all right, sir?

Margaret's asked me
to give her a divorce.

Oh, I didn't realize it had
come to that. I'm so sorry.

Neither had I.

I have to go.

I hope you get what you want, Murdoch.


You're late for night rounds, Doctor.

Still working two jobs, are we?

No, Dr. Dixon. I believe
I have found my calling.

From now on, I am a surgeon.


Lately, Lucille was keeping time
with this fellow Grant Sutton.

All four grew up in the same circles.

Isabel and Arthur believe
that Sutton was the one

who encouraged her
to start taking opium.

Did this Sutton character have
any reason to want her dead?

Isabel's brother didn't
know anything about that...

though I do believe Sutton
has a history of being

rough with his lady companions.

And you say Lucille had fallen
out with her old friends?

- Yes.
- Then perhaps Grant Sutton

was one of the last to see her alive.

It might be interesting
to find out what he knows.

Don't dally.

Of course, I know
Detective Murdoch very well.

Your reputation precedes you, Detective.

You arrested my good friend
Robert Graham last year.

Well, then. Nothing better

than having an incorruptible
inspector on the team, is there?

Stay down here. I'll take upstairs.



There's damage to the abdominal wall.

He'll need surgery. Notify
Dr. Forbes immediately.

Have them prepare the operating theatre.

I need more pressure.

I need to find the source of
the blood on the interior wall.

- His pulse is weak.
- Be grateful he has one.

- Is he alive?!
- For now.

Tom. Tom, you need to
stay out of the way.

Let's move him!

Will he be all right?
Will he be all right?

He's been shot in the abdomen.
He's lost a lot of blood,

- but he's hanging on.
- That's good.

- We'll need to take the bullet out.
- Dr. Forbes is on his way.

- He's on his way?!
- He has the experience.

How many gunshot wounds has he seen?

- I've seen thousands!
- Dead ones, I presume,

and don't forget the
bullet threatens the spine.

- Please, do what you can.
- Are you gonna help me or not?

- John? John? JOHN!
- Come here, Margaret!

It'll be all right. It'll be all
right. I promise. I promise you.

We were there to talk to
a witness. Grant Sutton.

Or possibly he was a suspect.

You don't know?

I... didn't know he was dangerous.

We decided to cover separate floors.

Then, I heard shots.

How many shots?

Two shots.

One... two.

So, John was shot twice?

I don't think so, no.
There was another man

in the room, already
dead when I arrived.

- Sutton?
- I would guess.

I was told to stay away from this case.

I asked John to help me.

This is all my fault.

- Detective Watts.
- George.

Let him go.

He is ready, Doctor.

What have you found out?

John and Detective Watts were attempting

to interview a man named Grant Sutton.

Mr. Sutton shot John,

and it appears that John returned fire.

I hope he killed the bastard.

He did.

Anyone who had anything
to do with hurting my boy,

I swear to God, Murdoch, I'll
kill them with my bare hands.

What are you doing?!

I'm... just... returning
some files I signed out.

- I expressly told you weren't to take any files!
- I'm sorry.

Well, it's funny, you know!

You hate police. You think
we're so corrupt and incompetent,

and obviously, you have no trouble
breaking the rules yourself.

I... I heard about the young Constable.

- That must be very difficult for you.
- That is none of your...

That is my new book!

- Who told you you could read it?
- I'm sorry, I just got caught up!

Well, you didn't have
the right to look at it.

I beg your pardon.

You know, it was very good.

I couldn't put it down...


That's the damage to
the lateral wall closed.

Pulse and breathing are regular.

I can't see the bullet.
There's too much swelling.

Take your time.

- There it is.
- Is it in the spinal cord?

I can't see how deep it goes.

- Do I take it out?
- I think we have to.

Steady now. Steady.

Was there damage to the spinal cord?

I don't know.

Let's get ready to close.

You didn't want him to
become a police officer.

You were right. I should
have listened to you.

About this and a lot of other things.

Is he all right?

We were able to repair
the damage to the abdomen,

but his recovery will not be easy.

But he will live?

- Yes. Yes, he will live.
- Thank God.

There's one more thing.

The bullet was lodged dangerously
close to his spinal cord.

Are you saying that
he may not walk again?

The swelling made it impossible to know

whether there will be any
permanent damage, but...

we managed to get the bullet out,

and now we must hope for the best.

- Miss Hart.
- Detective.

Grant Sutton.

What do you want, Murdoch?

- Why are you moving the body?
- Because it's my case.

I'll be wanting to take
a look at that weapon.

That will be going into
evidence at my Station House.

- One of our men was shot.
- In the district of Station House One.

And your man was shot while interfering

- with a case I was working.
- Oh?

It's my understanding that you
weren't working on the case at all.

How do you come to that?

If Grant Sutton was willing
to shoot at a police officer,

it would certainly suggest
that he had some involvement

in Lucille Palmer's murder, wouldn't it?

You are making a leap, Detective.

Oh? Do you know otherwise?

Had you previously
interviewed Grant Sutton?

Now that one of our
own has been injured,

I trust this case and Lucille Palmer's
murder will have your full attention.

They will have mine.

These are all the notes in
Watts' things I could find

that seem to pertain to
Lucille Palmer's death.

- He hasn't come in yet?
- No.

The notes seem to
suggest that Grant Sutton

was Miss Palmer's latest paramour.

That's why Watts and
John went looking for him.

Perhaps he was her killer also, sir.

I mean, maybe that's why he
shot John, thinking the police

were coming to question him.

That's certainly a possibility.

But George, have a look at this.

"Mr. Sutton, Montreal,

October 28,

3 days. Alibi, question mark."

This would imply that
Sutton was in Montreal

at the time of Miss Palmer's death.

And if that's the case, what
reason could he possibly have

for shooting John?

I'll look into this.


- Oh, my baby boy!
- You're all right, son.

Detective Watts. Is he all right?

He's fine.

- John!
- Isabel!

Oh, my God. John.

Thank goodness.

Mother, Father, this
is Isabel Carmichael.

I had hoped we'd meet
under better circumstances.

Are you all right?

Well, I suppose. Though
my legs feel strange.

That's normal.

You'll be as good as
gold before you know it.

I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner.
I was on the train to Hamilton

and came back as soon as
I heard what'd happened.

I feel better already, seeing your face.

- Margaret.
- What?

- Margaret, come on.
- What?

Come on.

Wait. Careful.

Where are you going?

I'm going to find Dr. Ogden.

You heard him. There's
something wrong with his legs.

Oh, no! He's fine. Who is this girl?

I don't know any more
than you do, Margaret.

Well you've been doing
a fine job as a father.

They're acting like
they're practically engaged

and you don't know who she is.

I'm not the one who ran out
on my family for two months.


Nothing. Is that normal?

We're giving the swelling
time to go down, John,

before we draw any conclusions.

When will that be?

I'll be back.



So, will he walk?

It's only been a day.

That's not an answer.

- It's too soon to tell, Tom.
- You should have waited.

- I thought you...
- You should have waited

for someone who knows
how to do the bloody job!

The man is upset.

Well, he has a right to be.

John Brackenreid is not
reporting sensation in his legs.

Oh. That's...

- That's unfortunate.
- You know as well as I do...

that if his spine was intact,
he'd be showing signs by now.

- I may have paralysed him.
- Doctor...


Might I have a word with
Constable Brackenreid?

Let's step outside, Miss Carmichael.

We can have a little
chat while the men talk.


Happy to see you're on the mend.

I'll be up and about
in no time, Detective.

Good, good.

What happened, John?

Well, uh... Detective Watts
wanted to interview Grant Sutton,

so we went inside. I heard
footsteps, called his name.

That's all I remember.

You must have been shot soon afterwards.

And you don't recall if Mr.
Sutton or you shot first?

He must have.

But I can't say for sure.

Did you have your weapon drawn
when you entered the room?

Yes, I drew my gun the moment I...

Detective Watts never signed
any weapons out of the armoury.

How is it that you were
armed and he wasn't?

You are speaking to someone
who is on your side here, John.

The truth is...

I knew of Grant Sutton
before we went to talk to him.

He was a former beau of Isabel's.

She's a girl I'm seeing,
Isabel Carmichael.

Why would you need a weapon?

Grant Sutton is not a good man.

He'd been following her. He
made threats against us both.

She was frightened.

I wanted to protect her.

And yet you told Detective
Watts none of this?

She begged me not to tell anyone.

She feared for her reputation. So I...

I kept quiet.

All right.


what happened to Grant Sutton?

He was shot... dead.

Well that's as well.

Isabel is safe now.

I'm sorry, Detective.

I did everything wrong, didn't I?

It's all right, John.
We'll... sort it out.


Why would John not tell Watts

that he knew about Grant Sutton?

He believed he was protecting
Isabel Carmichael's reputation.

But as it turns out, Grant
Sutton didn't kill Miss Palmer.

Right. Witnesses place him
in Montreal at the time.

Which begs the question,

why would he open fire on police
when they show up? Is he...

Is he protecting the real killer?

McWorthy doesn't believe
that there's any connection

between Lucille Palmer and her killer.

What if he's right?

What if McWorthy is
right and Watts is wrong?

There's no wonder he's
feeling responsible.


Detective Watts may have had
a reason to be suspicious.

Lucille Palmer was with child

and intended for the
father to marry her.

"No matter the difficulty of the match",

which means that this
someone was unsuitable.

This could have been
the killer's motive.

- Where did you find that?
- In the girl's bedroom.

Which you would have known if
you had done a thorough search.

Why would you go back into a room

- that had already been searched?
- Because, as I told you,

I intend to look into
this matter further,

whether you like it or not.

Sometimes it pays to take a second look.

Well, if you'd been looking hard enough,

you would know that Lucille
Palmer wasn't actually with child.

The post-mortem showed that.

The man in question would
have no way of knowing that.

Do you have any idea who he may be?

But we may be able to find out.

I just spoke with
Lucille Palmer's sister.

Her parents forbid her
from seeing Lucille,

but she did anyway.

Did she know who Lucille
may have been seeing?

No, but she says her sister
met the same man every Wednesday

at a posh downtown hotel.

Including the Wednesday before she died.

Who was he?

A man by the name of Carmichael.

- Carmichael.
- Arthur Carmichael.

Isabel Carmichael's brother.


Of course I knew Lucille.

She was my sister's closest chum.

Can anyone account for your whereabouts
on the evening that she died?

I can't think of anyone.

And you're a regular at the
Kings Arms Hotel downtown?

It's a first-rate hotel.

You should really visit the
bar and try their gin rickey.

Best in town.

This is a murder
investigation, Mr. Carmichael.

You can keep your
drink tips to yourself.

We believe you consorted
with Miss Palmer.

Did you ever consider making
an honest woman of her?

Why would I do that?

For a start, it would
be the honourable thing.

I'm much too young to be tied down.


you would be unhappy
to receive this, then.

This isn't addressed to me.

It just says, "My darling".

I don't know if you know about
Lucille, but that could be anyone.

You admit knowing her,

and you admit meeting her at that hotel.

You didn't want to be tied down by her,

so you took care of the problem.

She took care of it herself
by going and getting killed.

Wipe that smirk off your
face, or I will do it for you.

Are you going to let
him talk to me like that?

Just answer the questions.

In any event, I didn't
get her in the family way,

and I didn't kill her.

You can't prove otherwise.

Did you speak with him?

To ask for the kind
of forgiveness I need

is to place another burden on him.

You didn't fail him. I did.

Your misplaced guilt is yet
another consequence of my mistakes.

I could say the same.

And yet, look at us.

We are unscathed.

Thank you for coming, Miss Hart.

I understand you can help me.

- You want very much to become city coroner.
- I do.

The position is available, and I
am the most qualified to fill it.

I am prepared to help
you get what you want,

but I need to know...

will you help me?

That's why I'm here.

Tomorrow you'll be asked to
re-examine Lucille Palmer's body,

and you will find this.

I don't know what you've
been told about me,

but I don't fabricate evidence.

What I have been told is
that you are ambitious.

This is the opportunity
to get what you want.

- Detective? I have some news.
- Yes?

Station House One have
done another search

of the scene of Miss Palmer's murder.

They say they now have
the bullet that killed her.


Does that strike you
as somewhat suspicious?

Somewhat indeed.

I would very much like
to see this bullet.

How is it possible that
this was only just found?

Sometimes it pays to have a second look.

To be honest, I'm skeptical myself.

I'd been over that room three
times before with my best men.

- Where exactly was it found?
- Embedded in the mattress.

And there's something
interesting about it.


Well, that is interesting.

There's a fragment broken off it.

And it wasn't found in the bed.

It's unlikely the bullet would
have broken hitting the mattress.

If this is indeed the bullet
that killed Lucille Palmer,

then the missing piece
could be in her body.

If there were something here, Detective,

I would have found it
during my first examination.

Keep looking, Miss Hart.

So far, nothing.

The piece we're looking for is small,

thin and may be very difficult to see.

Please, keep looking.

This is a waste of time.


Is this what you're looking for?

This is the bullet that
killed Lucille Palmer.

Now, all we have to do is
find the gun that fired it.

I consider Arthur Carmichael to
be our prime suspect at this time.

Would you agree?

Let's search his home.

I don't even own a gun, gentlemen.

And if I had shot someone,

I'd hardly be stupid enough
to bring the very weapon home.

Oh, but I think you just might be.

Do you know my father is
the chief crown attorney?

That's not my concern, Mr. Carmichael.

Why don't you look at the other
fellow she was keeping company with?

Who is that?

You'll be able to
find him easily enough.

I hear he's not going anywhere.

Just tell us who he is.

That constable my sister is so sweet on.

John Brackenreid.

None of this makes any sense to me.

I never knew John was carrying a gun.

He never mentioned a
relationship with Lucille Palmer?

Only that he had met her
briefly in his acting class.

Yet, Arthur Carmichael said that John

had an intimate relationship with her.

Were John not known to us, we
would find this very suspicious.

He did not outright lie about
the gun or the girl, but...

He left out important truths, Watts.

And then apparently killed Grant Sutton.

A potential witness in the
matter of Lucille Palmer's death.

As I say, if John
were not known to us...

But he is,

and I believe him incapable of
malicious intent, let alone murder.

- I agree.
- Good.

Let's hope the evidence confirms it.

You're expected back at work.


My son is lying in a
hospital bed, paralysed,

and you're telling me you're
investigating him? For what?

It appears the bullet that killed
Miss Palmer came from John's gun.

Well that's a bloody mistake!

He's not capable of killing a girl.
Why's he meant to have done it?

Miss Palmer wrote a
letter to someone saying

she was with child
and demanding marriage.

And that someone is my son?

That boy is as pure as the driven
snow. This is ridiculous, Murdoch,

and I can prove as much right now.


Tell Detective Murdoch

that you had nothing to do with
the murder of Lucille Palmer.


Tell these two that you didn't
even know Lucille Palmer.

That you certainly never bedded her.

- Thomas!
- Of course he didn't.

It was before we were
courting, Isabel. I promise.

You knew her?

I did.

Why did you not tell Detective Watts?

Would someone please tell me

- what is going on here?
- Son.

Did you or did you not bed that girl?

- Are you interrogating your own son, Thomas?
- Margaret! Be quiet,

- for God's sake!
- It didn't mean anything to me.

I'm so sorry.

At this moment you don't
mean anything to me either.


Even if the letter is...
it doesn't mean that...

The bullet's a match, sir.

- Constable John Brack...
- No.

- NO! Thomas, stop this!
- I'll do this.

John Brackenreid, you're under arrest
for the murder of Lucille Palmer.