Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 13, Episode 4 - Prodigal Father - full transcript

McMaster, Sterling...

O'Brien, that necktie
is really something!

Write down for me where you
purchased it. I must have one.

Gentlemen and ladies...

A few moments of your time, please.

I know you're all here
for this marvelous scotch,

so I promise to keep this brief.

I see some old friends

and I'm happy to say I see
new faces in the room as well.

Some of you I've worked with in the past

and some of you are far
wealthier than before we met.



My new project promises

not only a sound investment,

it promises to make you...
a part of the future.

The city of tomorrow!

Right in Toronto's harbour.

A fully electrified community

with 24 hour automated street cars.

A telephone in every home and office!

Integrated buildings
where residents can live,

work and shop without
ever setting foot outside.

We will even build a
replica of Mr. Ferris' wheel.

The developers I brought on board
are the best the city has to offer.

Your investment in this
project will guarantee...

- Is he all right?
- Is he all right?



What have you, Miss Hart?

Male, 34 years old.

No evidence of trauma, no
apparent health problems.

Besides dying.

Can't establish a cause
of death as of yet.

Have to perform a
post-mortem, of course.

- Poisoning would be my guess.
- Huh, sir,

I just spoke to a witness
who saw him drinking

a glass of water just
before he collapsed.

- I've had the glass taken into evidence.
- Very good.

Have the constables collect and preserve

- all of the glasses and their contents.
- Sir.

Every glass, lads. Every
glass and its contents.

Please remember,
gloves or handkerchiefs.

How truly awful.

I'm heartbroken.

- Did you know the man?
- No.

But he seemed like a good fellow.

I had just slipped
him a dollar in thanks

shortly before this tragic event.

So... you're the one
putting all this on?

- Guilty as charged.
- I have to say I've heard some

incredible rumours about
your waterfront development.

Is such a futuristic community

- really possible here in Toronto?
- Why wouldn't it be?

I don't know. We're a fairly small city.

I should think something like
this is better suited to...

- New York or London.
- I disagree.

Toronto is as vibrant a
city as any in the world.

All it needs is a little vision.

So what would a room cost in
one of these future buildings?

Here, take a pamphlet.
Let me take down your name,

put you first on the list
of potential residents.

- Huh... George Crabtree.
- Yes.

I'm sorry, I said George Crabtree.

- Yes, and what is your name?
- That is my name.

Is this some kind of joke?

No. Why would that be a
joke? Is there something

- you find amusing about the name George Crabtree?
- Not at all.

My name is also George Crabtree.

Um, do you...

remember where you were
in the summer of 1866?

That was my first visit to Toronto.

And do you remember a
woman named Gracie Brooks?

Of course! I never forget a name

and would certainly never
forget such a fine woman.

What a wonderful summer that was...

Do you know her?

Yes, we had lunch once a
month the past few years,

until she moved to Sudbury.

Wait a minute.

You're George Crabtree.

And I'm George Crabtree.

Are you suggesting...

Gracie Brooks is my mother.

I believe you're my father.

How terribly terrific!

Incredible!

I had no idea I had a son.

This is cause for celebration.

Come, we must find a plate this instant.

I think I need a minute just to uh...

We need to make up for lost time, son.

Yes, it's just... I'm in the
middle of work right now. But...

some other time.

I saw the dead man

- arguing with one of the guests earlier in the night.
- Which guest?

He is no longer here.

I haven't seen him since the argument.

I find that suspicious.

- You do?
- Yes.

Can you describe him?

Tall. Petite moustache.

I did not care for him.

And what of the victim?
What is his name?

- He had no identification on his person.
- He does not work for me.

Upon seeing him I immediately thought

one of my men must have fallen
ill and sent him as a replacement.

But everyone who was
scheduled to work tonight

is present and accounted for.

So you have no idea who this man is

- or why he was working here?
- Correct.

What of his uniform?

It's the same as all of the other staff.

Where might he have obtained that?

I can't imagine.

Ah! Correction. I can imagine.

Earlier this week, I had to
make a complaint to the laundry.

Our usual bundle arrived
with one uniform missing.

Right, you'll go to the laundry
service first thing in the morning

to see if the dead man could have
stolen the uniform from there.

Did you ask the host
about the moustached man

who was seen arguing with the victim?

- He didn't know.
- He could be the key to the case, George.

We'll need to ask the host
for a list of the invitees

to compare with the list of
witnesses found here on the scene.

Something the matter, George?

Sir. That man, he knows my mother.

I mean, he knew my mother.

Nine months before I was born.

Oh.

- Oh, you mean...
- Sir!

His name is George Crabtree.

He knows details from my
mother's life at the time.

There's no doubt about it,
sir. The man is my father.

- That must be quite a shock...
- Yes, well...

He was as surprised
to find out as I was.

Well...

I don't know how I should feel about it.

I mean... Should I socialize
with him? Do I get to know him?

Do I want to know
him? Am I obligated to?

- Fathers can be complicated.
- Yes, sir.

Perhaps I'll ask him
for the list of names.

He was a heavy drinker,
but it didn't kill him.

The cause of death was indeed poison.

As suspected. Have you
identified which poison?

Based on the irregular respiration
reported by the witnesses,

I initially suspected potassium cyanide.

But the reddened skin
on part of the body

is not consistent with cyanide.

So not cyanide.

Have you anything else?

I'll need more time
to isolate the culprit.

Notify me when you do.

I shall.

As I do every case.

And so I was at a bakery this morning...

you can take a measure of
a town by its bakeries...

and I said to them: Give me two
dozen of the best, whatever it is.

Here. For you and the boys,

in gratitude for keeping
this fine city safe.

- Can I help you, sir?
- Oh!

Where might I find George Crabtree?

Still on his way in,
I imagine. And you are?

I'll need you to steel
yourself before I answer, sir.

My name...

is George Crabtree Senior.

I do like the sound of that.

- You're his father?
- The news was as shocking to me

as it is to you, sir. Likely
more shocking, in fact.

Learning you have a child,

sort of puts you on
the back foot, somewhat.

It is a thing to learn.

- Say, that's a fine cane.
- Thank you.

Write down for me where you
purchased it, I must have one.

It's just right. I mean... look at you.

Stately. Composed.

Powerful. Oh! Hmm.

Well, it's not the cane that
makes the man, Mr. Crabtree.

It's the man that makes the cane.

Step into my office, you
can wait for Crabtree there.

Can I call you George?

I wouldn't suddenly be
all chummy with the old man

just because he showed
up after all these years.

The Inspector seems to like him.

And I can't blame him. I mean,
he never knew he had a son.

Hmm. Family isn't so great anyway.

Parents just make you worry about
all the stuff they worry about.

My life got a lot better
when I started ignoring mine.

So, you're saying if you were
me, you wouldn't even be curious?

Not really.

- George...
- Oh, sir.

I took the photograph of our
victim down to the laundry place.

They recognized him. His name is
Stephen Shields. He works there.

Or worked there, I suppose.

In any case, it's safe to assume
that's where he got the uniform.

And I got his home address.

Very good...

You know, George, I read over the
pamphlet on the "City of Tomorrow"...

It's ingenious.

I tend to agree, sir.

It rather reminded me of
our very own George Crabtree.

Now, I may not be the
best person to offer advice

on father-son relationships,
George, but it seems to me

someone who could come up
with something like this

would be someone worth knowing.

Did I mention I once planned
planned to build a subway?

Did you really?

Ah, there he is.

Constable Crabtree. And the Detective.

- Invitees to my event, as requested.
- Thank you.

I know it's strange, learning you
have a father after all these years.

It's just as strange
learning you have a son.

I won't force the matter, but...

should you wish to know me,

the invitation is always open, George.

Well, actually, I was just thinking it
might be nice for us to meet properly.

How terribly terrific.

I was just about to hit the
town and forage for some lunch.

- You must join me.
- Well, I'm working right now...

Nonsense, Crabtree.
Go on, get on with ya.

Murdoch and I can manage.

That's very kind of you, sir,

but I was hoping to have George's
assistance to cross-check this list

and to accompany me
to the victim's house.

Higgins! Deal with the paperwork.

Whatever needs handling,
Murdoch, we can handle it.

Right.

Terribly terrific.

What do you think of
this future city business?

It seems rather extraordinary, sir.

Do you really think it could work?

Everything in the
proposal is achievable.

Depends on whether people
buy into it, I suppose.

Crabtree Senior has
all the ideas of Junior,

but he seems to be the kind of man

that could really make something of it.

- Do you know that I once tried to build a subway?
- Yes, sir.

Good afternoon, ma'am.

Detective William Murdoch,
Inspector Thomas Brackenreid,

- Toronto Constabulary.
- Are you the wife of Stephen Shields?

Yes. Is there a problem?

Is this your husband?

I'm afraid he's passed away, ma'am.

So, how long have you
been developing buildings?

Oh, I'm not a building developer.

I'm an idea developer.

I take a great idea, figure
out how to make it work,

and bring together the talent
and the money to make it happen.

So, what sort of ideas?

My first success was
nearly forty years ago.

A show for all,
vaudeville and burlesque,

combined with my
favourite sport: wrestling.

Good Lord, that is genius.

It was a veritable mint.

In fact, I've been so successful,

I don't need to take
on any new projects,

I could just tell
people how to make money.

You could give seminars.

Live Healthy, Be Wealthy,
with George Crabtree.

Senior.

Ah, a couple of my potential
investors. Do you like red?

- I tend not to drink when I'm on the job.
- Me neither.

But everyone likes a man
with a drink in his hand.

They'll be writing cheques in no time.

I don't understand.

He was dressed as a waiter?

You don't know anything about it?

No. It sounds mad.

That's a fine looking clock.

- Was it a gift?
- Yes.

From my husband, some years ago now.

That's solid gold, is it not?

If I may, how was he able to afford it?

He does very well.

He does well at the laundry?

What laundry?

The one that he works at.

Oh, you must be confused. My
husband doesn't work at a laundry.

We were told that
he's been working there

six days a week for
the past three years.

I'm sorry to ask you
to look at this again,

but are you sure we are
talking about the same man?

Yes. Of course.

But my husband doesn't
work at a laundry.

He's one of the most successful
businessmen in Toronto.

The dead man was pretending
or pretending to be poor.

I suspect he was lying to his
wife, pretending to be rich.

We'll have to check into
his financial records.

In any case it doesn't explain what
he was doing dressed as a waiter

- in a hotel where he was definitely not employed.
- Hmm.

- Do you have something for us, Miss Hart?
- Yes.

The key to my determination
was the water glass.

The one the victim was seen
drinking shortly before his death.

I thought it unlikely that any
poison could have acted so quickly.

So I examined the glass's contents
and found it was indeed pure water.

He was poisoned earlier then.

Yes. I estimate between a half-an-hour
to an hour before he collapsed.

- Have you identified the substance?
- Yes.

One of the poisons that fit all
the symptoms he had was hyoscine.

And one of hyoscine's side
effects is dehydration,

- resulting in a dry mouth.
- Hence the water.

He knew that something was wrong.

Once I suspected hyoscine,
I was able to test for it.

It was present in his
stomach contents and

in the residue from
that glass in this box.

From the bar area.

What was in it?

The poison had been mixed with whisky.

Right then. I'll check
the glass for fingermarks.

Where would one get
hold of this hyoscine?

It's not commonly available.

Though I have heard of
hospitals using it as a sedative

for mothers during childbirth.

- Good work.
- Thank you, Inspector.

One set of fingermarks
belongs to the victim.

And there is another, unidentified set.

The killer?

Possibly, though not a certainty.

A match would be of interest.

Sir, I've checked the invitee list.

There were three men invited who
were not there after the murder.

And one of them is a doctor...

Living on the water in
the heart of the city.

Ashbridges Bay will be filled in,

raised, and transformed.

The City of Tomorrow born
on the Land of Tomorrow.

- Will it work?
- Of course it will!

Haven't you been to Venice?

Me neither. Holland?

I don't much care for
the Dutch. The point is,

if they can do it, we can do it.

My engineers are the best in the world.

And their confidence is my confidence

and my confidence is yours.

It is quite exciting.

I'm considering being one of the
first to rent an apartment here.

That would be grand.

Though I will rather miss climbing
through your bedroom window.

Don't worry son, I didn't hear a word.

Well, clearly, this a remarkable woman.

- Remarkable! And a lawyer you say?
- Yes.

- But your son is just as impressive, you know.
- Of course!

No one respects the Constabulary

as much as George Crabtree, Senior.

But George isn't only a police
constable. He's also an author.

- What?
- His new book is very good.

- I believe it will be quite the sensation.
- Effie...

My own son, an author...

How terribly terrific.

I must read this book. No, everyone
must read it! What's it about?

- It's difficult to explain, actually...
- Supernatural then.

Vampires? Werewolves? Martians?

Well, no, but the original version
did feature Venutians, you know...

- From Venus!
- You must tell me all about it.

Well, it's been through
a few iterations,

but I felt Martians
were a bit overdone...

I think I agree.

- Good lad.
- Sir.

Sir, the banking records show that
Mr. Shields used to have money.

He was an investor and
a businessman. But then

three years ago his account was emptied.

We don't know what happened?

Three years ago he started
working at the laundry.

Oh, no sugar.

So somehow he lost it all.

- And hid it from his wife.
- And why shouldn't he?

Finances should belong to the
head of the household, Higgins.

- The Minister agrees with me on that.
- Sir?

He says that part of the
trouble with Margaret and I

is a lack of traditional
roles in the household.

You see, sir, this is exactly
why I don't like Ruth working.

- When my mother started...
- But why would someone want

to kill a man with no money?

Where's Murdoch?

He's with a suspect. Some doctor.

- It was a terrible cup of tea.
- I di...

Yes, I was invited to the event,

but I decided not to attend.

But you did attend, Dr. Prescott.

A witness saw you arguing with a waiter.

I can call the witness in
to identify you if necessary.

There, there, my good man,
no need to lose your head.

I was there briefly,

but I did not attend the presentation.

I apologize for my
imprecise use of words.

Now what is this about?

That waiter died shortly
after leaving your company.

What? Shields is dead?

You knew him?

Yes...

Poor fellow.

What was your argument about?

Oh... Some years ago,
Shields, an old friend,

came to me with an opportunity.

He was always getting
mixed up in these things

and they'd often do quite well.

This one was bigger than
most. A "sure thing".

Some kind of music hall in Cleveland,

I never got the details.

But I did give him five
thousand dollars for it

and wouldn't you know it,

I never saw it again.

Was this about three years ago?

About that. Since then
I've done just fine.

But poor Shields was
struggling to say the least.

When I saw him working as a waiter

I tried to offer him some cash.

He took offense and we argued.

Did you have a drink before
leaving the event, Doctor?

No.

We've identified the
poisoned glass whisky glass

that killed Mr. Shields.

And given that you left the event

without having a drink,
there would be no way

that your fingermarks would
be found on that glass.

Correct?

Not a match, then?

As I said,

I never touched a glass.

Toodle-oo.

George Crabtree Senior,

just the man I wanted to see.

- Inspector. What's this?
- A cheque.

I would like to become
one of your investors.

Aha! Tom, you won't regret it.

The City of Tomorrow

will be the greatest
success in Toronto's history.

Inspector, is Mrs.
Brackenreid aware of this?

I should bloody well hope not, Crabtree,

and that's just as it should be.

I know a good investment when I see one.

Speaking of which...

What's all this?

I happen to be in charge of
the widows and orphans fund.

We've been looking for
something a little better

- than those miserly post office bonds.
- Take these back.

Take them right now. I have an idea.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you all for returning after
the tragic event of the other night.

The "City of Tomorrow"
will bow to no impediment.

I hope you've all had a chance to
review the details of the proposal

and that you've arrived
with empty stomachs

and open chequebooks.

- Investors in this project
- Thank you.

will be joining one
of Toronto's finest...

Inspector Thomas Brackenreid.

I shall be investing for myself

and also on behalf of the
constabulary's widows and orphans fund.

Toronto is ready for Tomorrow!

Nobody move! Everyone stay down.

- Are you sure you're all right?
- I'm fine, I'm fine.

Would you look at that...

Good lord.

I think somebody is trying to kill you.

I ran towards the
gunman but he was gone.

No telling which way he went.

The boys have scoured the area.
But no one saw anyone with a gun.

The bullet came from outside,

so none of the investors
present could have done it.

Sir, do you think the poisoning
was also meant for my father?

I don't know.

My suspect, Dr. Prescott,

was released about an
hour prior to the shooting.

Now, his fingermarks were
not on the poisoned glass,

but that itself does not exonerate him.

But why would a doctor want to kill him?

I have no idea.

And that still doesn't explain
why Mr. Shields snuck into an event

dressed as a waiter.

Follow the money, Murdoch.

Speaking of which,

I need to speak to Crabtree
Senior about writing a new cheque.

The inspector is right.

We need to find out what we
can about Mr. Shields' past...

financial and otherwise.

Have a couple of constables
go around to his house

and see if they can dig
up any financial records.

And please let his wife know

- I wish to speak with her.
- Right.

Henry.

I have something else
I'd you to look into.

Dr. Prescott mentioned a music
hall development in Cleveland.

See what you can find out about it.

And if there's any connection
to George Crabtree Sr.

- Yes, sir.
- And Henry,

it's probably best we
not mention it to...

- Of course, sir.
- Thank you.

Jacob Prescott... Yes, I remember him.

A friend of my husband's.

I haven't seen him in some years.

Was that because of the grudge?

I'm not aware of any grudge.

He was arrested three years
ago for assaulting your husband.

Assaulting Stephen? I...

I had no idea.

Did your husband have any other enemies?

People who disliked him?

I don't believe so.

We have lovely friends, I
can give you their names.

Did he ever mention a George Crabtree?

No. Not that I recall.

Are you aware of any
contentious business dealings?

I know nothing of my husband's business.

Except that evidently there
hadn't been any in quite some time.

Now I have to sell the house

and everything in it...

I'm very sorry, Ms. Shields.

Someone is trying to kill
him. Isn't he worried?

- He doesn't seem to be.
- You were standing right beside him, George.

You could have been shot!
Is it safe to be around him?

Effie! These things can't be helped.

I find it's best you just
put it from your mind.

Ah, there you are.

- I've just solved your problem.
- What problem?

People not being able to read your book.

I've just purchased a publishing house.

- What?
- Well, not quite yet.

There.

Now I've purchased a publishing house.

Congratulations, Mr. Crabtree.

Mr. Crabtree Senior.

And don't you forget it.

Sit, sit.

You've... you've...

- You've bought an entire publishing house?
- Exciting, isn't it?

We'll run 5,000 copies. For a start.

Are you quite mad?

George's book can't sell 5,000 copies.

I thought you said it
was gonna be a sensation.

It might sell 5,000 copies in time,

but that will take critical
acclaim, word of mouth.

It's not some pap that
will fly off the newsstands.

To that I say, ma'am, pshaw.

It's one of my favourite words.
Very satisfying to say. Try it.

Huh... Pshaw. Oh, that
is very good. Pshaw!

Pshaw! I have sufficient capital.

There's money coming in for
the waterfront development

which won't be needed
for at least a year.

- The money belongs to the investors?
- They've invested it.

I should put it to some use.

Now, have you any ideas for the cover?

You know, I have.

- Have you read it?
- I've started it...

Didn't you hear what
your father was saying?

Yes. Of course I heard.

He's borrowed from the waterfront
project to buy that publishing house.

My father has made fortunes
for hundreds of men.

- If he believes in this investment, why shouldn't we?
- It's risky.

- So, you don't think my book will sell?
- It doesn't matter what I think.

If he is investing in something new,

he should consult the
people who put in the money.

Yes, but they trust him. I mean,

- that's why they give him their money in the first place.
- It's inappropriate.

- It's reckless.
- Reckless.

You know what, this is the
difference between you and a Crabtree.

How can you achieve the best
if all you see is the worst?

George!

There was almost nothing at
all in the victim's files.

Just a few old investment records.

Nothing about a music hall?

No, sir. But I telephoned
a library in Cleveland

and had them look for articles from
the time. I have a transcription.

I can barely...

Why did you write so small?

I was trying to save space.
I expected it to be longer.

"A music hall featuring all of
the greatest musicians ever known,

on permanent... "

- "Display."
- "Display."

The librarian remembered it, sir.

She said it was to be
the height of technology.

Recorded music and all that.

A music hall of the future.

- But it never came to be.
- No.

Apparently the developer funneled
the investments into other projects.

There was nothing left in the accounts

when it came time to break ground.

Everyone lost their money.

Did they say who the developer was?

Yes, sir.

George, perhaps you could...

It was George Crabtree, wasn't it?

I'm sorry, George.

A crook...

I should have known.

We don't know the whole story yet.

His investors lost some money.

- That doesn't make him a criminal.
- Only a fraud then.

What exactly did he tell you?

He told me he'd be here.

Perhaps he's afraid of what you'll say.

I didn't tell him what it was about.

- He may have inferred from your tone.
- Yes, infer he should have.

The man is a crook, a liar.

He's no better than a
confidence trickster.

And now he's trying to pull
one over on his own son.

He may simply be a man
who's made some mistakes.

No, no, no. Effie, you were right.

You were right in the first place.

He's either a fool or a fraud.

I should have known better.

You saw the victim arguing with
the moustached man, Prescott.

Where was this?

Here.

And you also saw the
victim delivering a drink

to George Crabtree Sr. Was this
before or after this argument?

Moments afterward.

He placed the drink on his tray

and proceeded to deliver it.

So George Crabtree
Sr. was standing here.

Only a few feet away from this argument.

Correct. The argument
delayed delivery of the drink.

Mr. Crabtree chided his
friend for this tardiness.

- His friend?
- He said, jokingly,

that he'd be angry with
him for taking so long

if they weren't such good friends.

And yet George Crabtree Sr.

claimed to have never met the man...

Prescott was not there
to kill the waiter.

They were working together.
They wanted Mr. Crabtree dead,

but something went wrong.
One of them got cold feet.

They argued.

And George Crabtree Sr. overheard.

He knew Shields and figured
out what they were up to.

Just give him the drink.

- What took you so long?
- Busy night.

Oh, Russ! To your health.

I noticed something else, Detective.

Something that may be
relevant given this context.

- Oh?
- That night,

Mr. Crabtree was carrying
his drink in his hand.

But he never took a sip.

He knew it had been poisoned.

Instead of disposing of it,
he waited for his opportunity

to convince Shields to drink it himself.

- That's not necessary.
- I insist. Thank you so much.

Two men set out to kill
George Crabtree that night.

Instead, he killed one of them.

Dastardly.

What are we waiting for,
Murdoch? Let's arrest him.

We do have enough for an arrest, sir,

but the case is circumstantial.

It does account for
all of the known events,

but that doesn't prove it's true.

No one will want to invest
in his future bloody city now.

He's likely ruined the
widows and orphans fund.

Bugger deserves to rot.

There is one thing that
could strengthen our case.

There is second set of unidentified
fingermarks on the poisoned glass.

If I could obtain a set

of George Crabtree Senior's
fingermarks then perhaps...

I may be able to help
you with that, Murdoch.

Right then. I'll arrest him myself.

Sir, should we tell George first?

We'll tell Crabtree once
his father is behind bars.

Oy! Open up!

Right! We're coming in.

Bloody hell.

Get up. You're a bloody embarrassment.

What's wrong with him?
You think he's drunk?

I'm not drunk, man.

- George Crabtree, you are under arrest.
- Fine, fine.

The jig is up.

Take me away.

So my father killed the man.

He asked us to arrest him.

We haven't yet heard his confession.

I'm going to speak with him now.

I'd like to come with you.

- I'm not sure that's a good idea.
- Sir, I deserve...

I deserve to at least
hear what he has to say.

You saw Shields and Prescott
conspiring to poison your drink.

Your fingermarks on the glass

confirm that you were
the intended recipient.

But you turned the tables on them.

You knew Shields was a drinker.
It wouldn't be difficult

to convince him to take a drink.

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

But you lied to us about
knowing Mr. Shields.

A witness confirms that you
regarded him as an old friend.

It's true,

I am a liar.

But I wasn't lying to you.

The man seemed to
remember me from somewhere

so I pretended I remembered too.

You lost him his fortune.

- The music hall in Cleveland.
- I lost a lot of people money in Cleveland.

And everywhere.

The investors here are already alarmed.

It's falling apart
and it's all my fault.

Is that why you chose
to kill Mr. Shields

instead of simply disposing
of the poisoned drink?

To keep him from revealing
your past failures?

No... I didn't kill him!

George, you've got to believe me.

I didn't do it.

Why should I believe you? You're
a liar. You've just said so.

You greet somebody as a friend then
you say you don't remember them,

all the while boasting:
"Oh, I never forget a face."

I don't remember him.

I ruined his life and I
can't even remember him...

This is... This is an act.

This is something to... to...

to gain a little sympathy.

It's shameful.

What is wrong with that man?

I mean, who could be that callous?

What kind of person
could take people's money,

kills a man and then shows no remorse.

Just that... that charade.

I'm not certain that's what's going on.

Sir, I am certain of it.

I realize I've only known
my father a few days,

but I feel I know him and that...
that is a completely different person.

A man just doesn't flip from
good to bad like that, Murdoch.

Sir, I recall Julia
telling me about a condition

that she observed in
one of her patients.

An ailment in which

the subject would cycle
back and forth between

elated mania and profound depression.

Are you saying that's what
makes Crabtree Sr. like this?

It's a possibility.

Even so, say he isn't pretending,

say he genuinely does become
down every now and then.

He's still a fraud.

He still ruined people's lives

and he killed a man because of it.

Why are you acting this way?
What kind of game is this?

It's no game, son.

I've always been this way.

Ups and downs my whole life.

I feel good for a time...

and then it comes.

There's never any reason.

It just comes.

And that's what happened in Cleveland?

In Cleveland. Then...

all over.

And it's happening here now.

I've borrowed money plenty of times.

Sometimes it's just fine. Sometimes...

I get down.

And everything falls apart.

The detective believes it could be

a condition, an illness.

If that's the case than
perhaps something could be done.

I'm broken.

I was born broken.

You're lucky I was never around.

- Don't say that...
- I abandoned you.

I didn't know I was doing it, but I did.

Look, did you kill that man?

No.

And I didn't lie.

I've made many men
rich and many men poor.

And I remember every single one.

Except this waiter.

I don't know how I could forget.

He was from Cleveland?

From Toronto, but he invested
with you in Cleveland.

- What was his name again?
- Stephen Shields.

Shields...

Shields...

I never did meet him.

You must have. He must have
written you a cheque or something.

Yes...

but I only dealt with his wife.

- His wife?
- Yes.

She liked the music hall,
she asked the questions.

She told him what to do.
He only signed the cheque.

The poor woman.

I ruined her.

And now she's all alone.

Sir, it was Shields' wife.

She knew all about the investment,

she knew her husband
had lost all their money.

In fact, he hadn't lost it, she had.

So she's lying to us. About everything.

Sir, I know that he's my father,

I know it's impossible
to remain impartial,

but I don't think he killed Mr. Shields.

Well, it makes sense for her to
attempt to shoot your father. But,

why would she arrange to
poison her own husband?

Sir, I'm not sure. But think about it...

The poisoned glass was certainly
the one Shields gave to my father.

His fingermarks were on it.

And we can infer he knew
the glass was poisoned

because he carried it around
all night without taking a sip.

But sir, that's just it.

My father always has
a glass in his hand.

I've never seen him take a sip.

It's all for show.

I asked him if he recalled when and
where he put down his full glass.

He said it was when he found Shields
at the bar to give the man a tip.

- Someone else switched the glasses.
- But who?

I mean, our man with the
moustache was already gone.

Perhaps our new co-conspirator
can help shed some light.

- What is all this?
- You lied to us, Ms. Shields.

- I did no such thing.
- We know you did.

And we'll be able to prove
that you did much more.

Murdoch.

This is nonsense.

- That's my husband's gun.
- Yes.

And I am confident it will
be a match for the bullet

that nearly killed
George Crabtree Senior.

A match?

Each gun barrel leaves a unique
set of markings on every bullet.

We will prove that you fired at him.

He lost you everything.

He ruined our lives.

We could barely keep up appearances.

People knew.

He cleaned me out, as well.
But I didn't go firing a rifle

- into a crowded room.
- My aim is true.

- Not true enough.
- You're under arrest, Ms. Shields.

We were left with nothing.

And what happened to him?

He found more people,

more money, not a care in the world.

Fine.

Take me away if you must.

Anything would be better
than keeping up this charade.

I only regret we didn't get the bastard.

- Watch your mouth, ma'am.
- What of Dr. Prescott?

Was he part of your conspiracy?

- Did he turn on your husband?
- No.

He knew nothing about it.

Where did you obtain the poison?

I read about it and stole
some from my doctor's office.

Then who did kill your husband ?

Stephen was an idiot.
An idiot and a drunk.

It was probably an accident.

I always told him he'd
drink himself to death.

Idiot.

Let us just rip up the contract
and pretend it never happened.

But it did happen. I
wanted it to happen.

You don't have to do this,
George. What about your book?

I would like my book to be
published on its own merit.

What if I were to offer
you 3% of the purchase price

as a penalty? It's all the money I have.

I'm not interested. A deal's
a deal and that's that.

Are you familiar with cyclothymia?

- Excuse me?
- Don't worry, you'll hear all about it in court.

All that matters is that George Crabtree

is a man of diminished capacity.

- Say what?
- In the eyes of the law,

he was not of sound mind to enter
into a legally binding contract.

We can test it out in
the court if you'd like.

The option is yours.

All right.

- I'll take the three percent.
- I think not.

The offer is zero percent.

But you'll save more
than that in legal fees.

Fine. Rip it up.

Only thing worse than a
lawyer is a woman lawyer.

Miss Newsome...

I may have my troubles in life,

but even at my worst I am not
of "diminished capacity"...

Oh hush. The only people
who need to know that

are myself and two George Crabtrees.

- Impressive gambit, Effie.
- Indeed.

You are one sly fox, aren't you?

Only trying to help a good man.

Maybe you'd consider working
for me one day, Miss Newsome.

I could use a woman like you.

And a man like you, George.

In fact... Come with me, both of you.

- Where are you going?
- Montreal.

I have an idea for a giant
stadium in Maisonneuve

that can be seen from
anywhere in the city.

With you two looking out for
me, we're sure to succeed.

But we both have lives here in Toronto.

Of course you do.

I understand.

No matter.

It's been a pleasure getting
to know you, George Crabtree.

Next time, let's not wait so long
before we see one another again.

Indeed.

It really is a shame your fine vision

of Toronto's waterfront won't
come to pass, Mr. Crabtree.

It will one day.

It's too good an idea not to happen.

And you two...

Terribly terrific.