Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 13, Episode 7 - Toronto the Bad - full transcript

While moonlighting as a cab driver, Higgins finds a dead passenger in the backseat.

Streets are for driving, animals!


- Evening, Peter.
- Morning, Henry.

- Dundas and McCaul, driver.
- Hey pal, I was here first.

- Driver, how much to get to to Reggie's?
- Room for one more?

I'm just popping the Dancing Horse.

Hey! Quit pushing!

You're broad shouldered by nature.

Driver how much to take me Reggie's?

- Ow! What the hell was that?
- All right, enough!

Now one at a one at a
time where you're going,

and I'll drop you off, in order.

It's a nickel a block, no haggling.

Dundas and McCaul.

Hey! Watch where your hand's going.

Night, ma'am.

Okay, mister, one time. Where to?



Come on, pal, wake up!

Oh no.

That's when I turned around
and saw that he was dead, sir.

You didn't notice anything?

The man expired three feet from you!

My main concern was getting my
passengers to their destinations, sir.

I'll get you to your
destination, Higgins...

- Excuse me.
- What have you, Miss Hart?

Pardon my interruption, but I think
you'll want to take a look at this.

It appears he had been
injected with a toxic substance.

Foaming indicates his
breathing was constricted,

which is consistent with poisoning.

Any idea what type of poison was used?

Not yet. I'll know more
once I have him open.

Thank you, Miss Hart.

Murdered. Well done, Higgins.

Henry, what can you tell us
about the other passengers?

Not that much, sir. I didn't
recognize any of them. Except Peter.

- Peter?
- Guthrie, sir. The owner of Scott's Diner.

I often take him to work
first thing in the morning.

And the others?

Like I said, sir, I try
to focus on the driving.

But I do remember one of
the men wore an eyepatch.

Dundas and McCaul, driver.

Anything else?

Well, there was the victim, of course.

Also yes, one of the women
wore a scarf around her head...

A scarf. Excellent.

I suppose we can close the case now.

Carry on, Henry. Any other details?

The other woman had some sort of
burn, or birthmark, on her arm.

I wish I could be more helpful, sir.

That's not something
the public wants to hear

from a police officer, is it?

How much sleep have you had
in the last few days, Higgins?

You smell like a bloody raccoon.


- _
- Well, that solves the identity question.

You said you picked him
up at King and Spadina?

Yes, sir.

That's not far from MacRury's.

I've spent a fair amount of time
in places like this, Murdoch.

Used to be a bit of a
shark when I was younger.

I've never actually played, sir.

You're joking.

This is a game of angles,
precision, foresight. Physics.

Man of your intellect,
with a bit of practice,

might not be half bad.

Patron saint of whiskey?


Wendel MacRury.

He started this place.

Help you?

Toronto Constabulary.

We need to speak with the
governor. Is he around?

Dead almost a month.

Someone shot him right
where you're standing.

I'm the owner. Lucille Anderson.

Miss Anderson,

we're investigating the murder
of the man who owned this...

- Buckles was murdered?
- I'm afraid so.

We need to know if he was in
your establishment last night?

Sure, he's here almost every night.

What time did he leave?

I couldn't say for certain.

But I know who could.


Buckles collected his
fair share of enemies.


I don't know who would have done this.

Were you with Mr. Buckles last night?

Yeah. Until around midnight.

Then I went over to
Pumpkin's on Bathurst.

Mr. Dillinger, did
anything happen last night?

Did Mr. Buckles do or say anything
that could aid our investigation?

Not that I can recall.

We just did what we always do.

Chiseled a mark.

You swindled someone?
That's definitely noteworthy.

Who was the mark?

Digby Pears. Heavy gambler.

Came in last night bragging
how much he'd won at the track.

Dumb donkey was begging for it.

Is it possible this Mr. Pears

discovered what the two of you
were up to and took revenge?

I suppose.

I left after I played my
part, so I can't really say.

Fancy a game?

Sure, Tiny.

Excuse me. Rent's due.

I can't believe I lost it all.


Mr. Pears, were you aware

that you were being grifted last night?

Halfway through the last game,

I sobered up enough to
put it together. But,

the money was long gone by then.

You know what they
SAY: easy come, easy go.

I don't know what idiot
actually says that.

What time did you
leave the billiard hall?

I'm not exactly sure.

Shortly after the last game.

Where did you go?


To explain to my beautiful and

understanding wife that we won't
be able to afford rent this month.


She can corroborate this?

She can.

Mr. Pears, did you arrange for, or

hire anyone to kill Mr. Buckles?

Of course not. No.

I was angry, yes. Embarrassed.

But I've learned to lose, Detective.

Comes with the territory.

Ask my wife.

He had motive, but it doesn't
appear Mr. Pears was in the taxicab.

I suppose it's possible
he paid someone else

to administer the poison.

It's also possible that Buckles
was poisoned before he got in.

Miss Hart has confirmed that the toxin

was indeed Antimony,
which is fast acting.

That suggests that the
killer was in the automobile.

But why go through all that trouble?

There are easier ways to
stick someone with a needle.

Perhaps the intention was to confuse.

A crime in plain sight.


What about the owner of the diner?

I was just on my way there.

I'll come with you.

Henry takes me to work some mornings.

Less expensive than a hansom, and

- the conversation's better.
- With Higgins?

Mr. Guthrie, what can you tell us
about your taxicab ride last night?

- Well, it was frustrating.
- How so?

I was stuck in a car
full of drunken louts.

I get enough of that in here.

Do you recall anything unusual
about the other passengers?

Any animosity between them?

There was some jostling, but
nothing particularly violent.

Everyone in Toronto has a certain
amount of animosity at night.

It's just the way animals are.

Animals? What makes you say that?

My diner opens at four
in the morning, Inspector.

The people that come through
that door at that time

- aren't coming from church.
- Nothing good happens after midnight.

Did you happen to recognize
any of the other passengers?

There was one man. He wore an eyepatch.

He's been in here before.

Ah, yes. Constable
Higgins told us about him.

Do you know his name?

Frank, I believe.

Anything else?

He carries a knife, I know that,

and he's not afraid to use it.

He went after someone in that
very booth just a few months ago.

- I see.
- Hang them all, Detective.

Let God sort them out.

Well, this is a surprise.

I hope you don't mind.

I saw you through the
window and I thought,

'We're neighbors. Why not?'

Would you like a cup of tea?

My, it really is... something.

Is there an echo in here?


It can feel quite spacious.

Can't say I'd ever want to
live in a place like this,

but to each their own.

Don't you miss having doors?

Where did you and Mr. Huckabee
live before moving here?


Raymond wanted to live
someplace warm, so here we are.

- I'm joking.
- Oh!

Well, it's been quite stimulating
having you as neighbours.

William mentioned the potted
duck you made was delicious.

Quite a charmer, that man.

You better keep an eye on him!

Speaking of ducks, what
is that odd bird statue?

I've never seen anything quite like it.

It's a pelican, actually.

We brought it back from Ecuador.


Our old neighbors, the
Peters', were also travelers.

She would collect these funny little

salt and pepper shakers
wherever they went.

Oh, are you still in contact?

No, they died mysteriously.

So, Doctor Ogden...

Doctor, it sounds so funny
when I say it out loud!

Well, you can call me Julia.


What say we liven things up a bit?

Oh, it's still very early...

It won't be for long.

I suppose not...

To new friends.

Well, I don't know how
it works, but it does.

You just have to fiddle
with it a little bit.

Oh Henry, stay right there,

I have something for you.

Getting ready for another
jaunt around the city, are we?

Perhaps tonight someone will
get killed in the front seat,

and you might actually get to see it.

That would be awful, sir.

Ta da.

This way you'll be able to see
everything happening behind you.

Sir, that is brilliant.

However did you think of it?

It's a mirror.

- It's perfect.
- Don't encourage him, Murdoch.

Not to worry, I'll
be on high alert, sir.

Right, I've heard enough.
Good evening, gentlemen.

Henry, are you quite sure
about handing two jobs?

You seem a bit frayed, lately.

I have been quite tired.

Unbelievably tired, if I'm honest sir.

But my goal is to earn enough so
that Ruth won't have to work anymore.

She's sacrificed so much, sir,

experienced such terrible misfortune.

Frankly, it's the least can do.

Alright then,

- be careful out there.
- Thank you for your concern!

Follow the pea, follow the pea.

Starts in the middle,

who knows where it may be.

Take a guess.

That one!

Try again, friend, another
nickel, another guess.

That one!

Out of luck today, mister.

- Back of the line.
- All right, everybody, that's enough, game's over.

- Move on.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, I've got a game going in here.

You want in, you'll wait your turn.

Toronto Constabulary. I said move on.

And if you don't want to
feel the back of my hand,

you'll be quick about it.

Thanks a lot, Copper.
That's my dinner for tonight.

I'll tell you what.

They're serving bread stew down in
the cells tonight, if you fancy it.

If you don't, move on.


Oh. Did you just arrive?

Just leaving, actually.
I start in an hour.

Oh. I'm getting used to only seeing you

on your way to somewhere else.

Well, with a little more seniority

I'll be able to choose
the more coveted shifts...

Say no more. You're needed.

That's odd.

What's odd?

The clay pelican we brought
back from Ecuador. It's gone.


- Where could it have gotten to?
- No...

You're thinking something?

Goldie was admiring it earlier today.

But... no. She wouldn't.

Would she?

This is it. That'll be forty cents.


That's robbery, you must
have counted wrong...

All right, all right, no need for that.

Take it.


Find a Constable!

Stop! Toronto Constabulary!

I said stop!


I understand how this looks.

You were apprehended leaving
the scene of a murder,

covered in the victims' blood.

Not to mention the stack of
blood-soaked spondulix you were carrying.

All explainable.

You were in a taxicab with Bill Buckles

the night he was murdered.
But please, explain.

I don't know anything about that.

I'd seen Bill around,
but that's where it ended.

What is it you do, Miss Chambers?

I'm a cartomancer.

What's that when it's at home?

I read Tarot cards for people.

You're a bloody fortune
teller? She's a fortune teller.

I provide guidance based
on my interpreted readings

of the cards, Inspector.

Is no different than
talking to a priest.

Is that how you knew Mr. Pears?

Mmm. He'd been my client for years.

He always wanted an edge
on his next big wager.

Was that why he was at your apartment...

to have his cards read?

No. He came to get this.

Digby came to my apartment,
completely frantic.

I gave him the money and he left.

Moments later I hear one set
of shouting out in the hallway.

I opened the door and see him
stumbling out into the street.

Blood everywhere.

You didn't see the killer?

Not a soul.

Where were you running to?

I went to get help.

A copper, I don't know. Something.

But you know I was barely out the door

when that bizarre little taxicab driver

tell me I am under arrest.

- Henry
- Higgins.

What about the stack of
bills you took from Pears?

He must have dropped
them when he was stabbed,

so I stopped and picked it up.

You know, if I had left this
money in that part of town,

it would have been
gone in thirty seconds.

A fortune teller with a heart of gold.

I'm not convinced she
is our killer, sir.

Neither am I, but at the moment
we've got two dead bodies.

So let's suppose, just for a moment,

that Pears paid her to kill Buckles.

It stands to reason that's
what the money was about.

But why would she kill Mr.
Pears so close to her home?

Well, it's possible when he
showed up to pay for the murder,

she killed him to
eliminate any connection.

On impulse.

But no murder weapon was found,

and before she could
have gotten rid of it,

Henry apprehended her.

She could have thrown
it down a sewer grate.


Or perhaps the connection between
the murders is less direct.

Someone may have assumed
- rightly or wrongly -

that Mr. Pears was responsible
for Mr. Buckles' death,

and went out looking for revenge.

You mean a friend of Buckles?

Dillinger. From the billiard hall.

Bloody Higgins.

- Higgins!
- Toronto Constabulary! Where to?

I've told you,

if you can't separate the taxicab
service from the police service,

you'll have to choose between
them. Otherwise, I'll do it for you.

I'll handle it, sir.

Get some rest, Henry.


Hang on, so you think I killed him?

Perhaps you felt Mr.
Pears was responsible

for the murder of your friend.

But I'm the one who pointed
you in his direction.

Which is exactly what you would do

to remove yourself as a suspect.

You can ask anyone,
I've been here all night.

I come in around six, been
going strong ever since.

With Buckles gone,

I gotta work twice as
hard to make my nut.

Do you have any idea who
could have killed Mr. Pears?

Didn't really know the man.

Not well enough to speak
on his enemies, anyhow.

Is there anything that
might connect him to Buckles?

Like I said, I don't really kn...

No, wait, there is something.


Stuart Manchester.


- And who is that?
- A bookie. Small-time bets, mostly.

Buckles owed him money on a
wager they had months back.

Months? Long time to owe a bookie.

Buckles tried to pay him,
Manchester kept upping the vig.


Interest on the loan.

- We know.
- Yes.

Manchester was trying to squeeze him,

till eventually Bill
just stopped paying.

And so Mr. Manchester
may have taken revenge.

Thing is, Manchester's got no muscle.

He only takes bets from
people he knows he can trust,

for that very reason.

It wasn't like him to try
and strong arm someone.

Perhaps he was being
pressured by someone else.

Did Mr. Manchester know Mr. Pears?

Safe bet,

every bookie in town knew Pears.

I'll contact the Station House

to see if there's any record
of a Stuart Manchester.

There should be a call box
around the corner I believe...

- Whoa whoa!
- Stop, let go of me!

Oh, it's you again?
What's this about, then?

- Let go! They're after me!
- Who's after you?

Gentlemen. Move along.

Are you still swindling?

It's an honest racket.

What do you think would
have happened to you

if those men had caught you?

Well, they didn't catch me, did they?

What's your name?

Tim Little.

Now, you listen to me, Tim Little.

If I find you having
anything to do with swindling,

gambling, four flushing,
or any kind of flim-flam,

you're heading straight into the cells.

- Is that understood?
- Sure, sure, I understand, I understand.

One last thing though:

Your mustache looks like a hairy slug!

- Oy! Come back here!
- Sir. Sir.

Mr. Manchester?

Bloody delinquent.

A lengthy criminal record.

Mostly petty offenses.

It's not unusual for someone like that

- to become a killer though, is it?
- That is a distinct possibility.


That's decomposition is what that is.

Mr. Manchester. Toronto Constabulary.

Speaking directly to the
dead is bad luck, Murdoch.

Based on decomposition,

the body appears to have
been dead about a week.

Cause of death other than the obvious?

At this point, it looks
to be the severed jugular,

but of course I'll know more
once I get him on the table.

Thank you, Miss Hart. Always a pleasure.

It was damn loud, is all I can tell you.

I had to tell them
twice to keep it down.

That's when I saw him.

And when was this, to the
best of your recollection?

I'd say about a week ago.

Thank you. If there's anything
else we'll be in contact.

Miss Hart thinks the body's
been here nearly a week.

No other sign of a struggle so far.

The landlord responded to a
noise complaint at this apartment,

also about a week
ago. A heated argument.

He says he got a look at
the other man involved.


He was wearing an eye patch.


- Where to?
- Borden and Bloor.

Nice night we're having.

Just drive, Mac.

So is Toronto home?

Just visiting?

Rough town.

Not the friendliest
place for a newcomer.

Where are you from?

I'm not paying you to talk.

Just trying to be friendly.

Say, you've been in my
cab before, haven't you?

You look familiar.

Just a few nights ago, if memory serves.

A group.

What did you say?

Just that you look familiar.

You were here with...

That pool player...

That won't be necessary. We've arrived.


Please take this gentleman
directly to Detective Murdoch.

With regards from Constable
Henry Higgins-Newsome.

These men will show you where to go.

Thank you for your patronage.

Mr. Rizzo,

when was the last time
you saw Stuart Manchester?

I don't remember.

His landlord said you
were at his apartment

approximately a week ago,

and that you two had an
argument of some sort.

I don't remember.

You've spoken to men like
us before, haven't you?

Tin coppers?

Once or twice.

Quite the knife you're carrying.

- Bit of a hunter, are ya?
- Not against the law, is it?

Are you aware that Mr.
Manchester was murdered

with a knife right around the same
time you two had your argument?

I wasn't.

And another man, Digby Pears,

was murdered recently,
also with a knife.

Did you know him?

I'd seen him around MacRury's.

Didn't know him to speak
of. Always had empty pockets

from what I'd heard.

What's this got to do with me?

We're getting to that.
Just hold your horses.

Mr. Rizzo, you were in
Constable Higgins' taxicab

the other night, were you not?

- I don't...
- Remember.

Right. You said that already.

Except you can shove it,
because we know you were.

Do you know a man named Bill Buckles?

From MacRury's, sure.

Someone snuffed him out.

So, what were you and Mr.
Manchester arguing about?

- Money.
- Enough to kill for?

No way. Look, I didn't kill him.

I didn't kill any of them.

And you haven't got a lick of
evidence to prove that I did.

Now, can we speed this up?

- He's hiding something.
- Agreed.

And there is no connection
between the victims.

Mr. Rizzo and Mr. Manchester

had a heated argument
approximately a week ago.

Shortly after that, Mr.
Manchester was murdered.

Then two nights ago,
Bill Buckles was injected

with poison in a crowded taxicab.

No ties to Rizzo that we know of,

except that they shared
the same backseat.

And the very next day,
Mr. Pears was stabbed

after leaving the
home of Donna Chambers.

Also, no connection to
Mr. Rizzo to speak of.

What is the commonality here?

Well, they're all creatures
of the night, for starters.

And they all knew
each other in some way.

How did Rizzo say he knew the other men?

MacRury's Billiard Hall.

If I recall, the woman
who owns the hall now

mentioned the previous owner
had been murdered, did she not?

She did.

Perhaps the details from
that case could be pertinent.

I'll get Higgins to locate the
investigating detective and case file.

MacRury's comes under
Station One's jurisdiction.

Sir, I'm so sorry.

- Go home, Higgins. Take the rest of the day off.
- Sir?

You did good work last
night. Bringing that man in.

Thank you, sir. You've no
idea how much I need this.

Oh Higgins, sleep. No driving.

Absolutely, sir.


- Sir?
- I need you to go to Station House Number One.

- Be as quick as you can, Sergeant.
- Right away, sir.

Oi. Oi! Come back here!

I said, come here.

Who did that?

Where do ya live?

Do you have any money?

- They took it all.
- Come on.

Please don't arrest me.

I don't even have the shells anymore.

- I don't have anything...
- I'm not going to arrest you. Come on.

I do hope we can make a
habit of these little visits.

Yes, that would be quite nice.

Is everything all right?

Oh. It's nothing.

What is it?

Don't be shy. We're friends. Julia.

Well, it may be a strange question,

but I was wondering,

do you know what may have happened

to our clay pelican yesterday?

Your clay pelican?

From Ecuador. It's missing.

Oh dear.

No, no, I'm afraid I don't.

Why would I know anything about that?

I just thought

you might have... taken it.


Taken it?

- It may have fallen into your handbag.
- Fallen?

A statue of a clay pelican

has fallen into my handbag?

It's not impossible.

I didn't mean to insinuate that...

Well you're certainly
doing a good job of it.

I just thought I would ask.

Here I thought that you'd come over

because you actually wanted
to spend time with me.

I'm sorry, it wasn't my
intention to offend you...

I don't know what
happened to your pelican.

Now, if you don't mind,
I'd like to be alone.


Of course.

Detective Murdoch.

I recognize you from the papers.

Detective Babcock, Station House One.

Thank you for coming in.

We are investigating a string of murders

that may be linked to a case
you worked on some weeks ago.

The MacRury murder. I was told.

Any idea who could have
committed this murder,

or any apparent motive?

Wish I could say.

No one who was there would go on record.

I took their names, but
it was typical Toronto...

everyone out for themselves.

They didn't want the
inconvenience of being a witness.

And was that the end
of the investigation?

Without someone willing to come
forward, the case went cold.

I'd heard the owner,
MacRury, was a gambler.

May have owed some money.

That's about as far as I got.

I see.

Did you bring in your
notes, as requested?

The file doesn't go into much detail.

The pages are earmarked,
but it's all in the file.

It just wasn't solvable
without a cooperative witness.

Thank you.

Have you got any leads?

We have a suspect in custody.

- A Frank Rizzo.
- Rizzo?

Hate to throw a wrench into things,
but he couldn't have done it.

Why do you say that?

You want him for the
Pears murder, correct?

Among others.

Pears was murdered two days ago,

when Frank was in our cells.

Drunk and disorderly.

I know because I put him there.


I take no pleasure in being the bearer.

Thank you, Detective. And I will
return this as soon as possible.

Oh, please. Take your time.

- Told ya.
- Go on. Get out before I change my mind.

How are you feeling?

My teeth are loose.

I've got just the thing.

Try a couple of these.

Pickled eggs. Work wonders.

Thank you.

Now, if you don't mind
learning me a new trade.

Sir, I...

Hold onto these.

All of the people
Detective Babcock spoke with

on the night of the Macrury murder.

Digby Pears, Bill Buckles,

Stuart Manchester, Frank Rizzo.

They were all there the
night MacRury was killed?

Which means whoever killed MacRury
is also killing the witnesses.

And we just let one of
them back onto the street.

As with the others, there's not much
more I can offer than what's here.

It appears he bled to death
as a result of the stab wounds.

That makes four victims.

All on the witness list.


Is this the work of a sequential killer?

- Kind of.
- Whoever killed Wendel MacRury

is now eliminating all of
the witnesses to the crime.

A completest.

Very good, Miss Hart.

These are all of the
people Detective Babcock

noted as present the night
that Mr. MacRury was murdered.

And these are the people
that were in the taxicab

the night that Buckles was murdered.

These people have all been murdered.

And we've spoken to these two...

That leave the young woman
with the burns unaccounted for.

She must have some connection
to the billiard hall,

just like the rest of them.

How many young women do you know

that spend time in billiard halls?


Nice night?

Sure, I'm just the driver. Why bother?

It's fine. Hot.


Excuse me?

You a billiards player?

Where are you going?

Wellington's closed.

Carriage overturned,

cabbages everywhere.

We're going back the way we came.

I'd prefer you just
take the main streets.



Miss Anderson, we have some questions.

I think you've just answered them.

Stay back. Don't come near me.

Tell us what happened.
Perhaps we can help you.

I already told Babcock
everything. I don't want your help.

I want my father back.

Wendel MacRury was your father?

More than my real father ever was.

Wendel gave me a home, a job, a life...

And they just let him die.

- Who let him die?
- You know who.

They were all here the
night he was murdered.

Those men said they didn't see anything.

Liars. They saw.

How do you know?

Were you here the night
MacRury was killed?

I was downstairs when
I heard the shot. I...

came up, and he was
bleeding on the floor,

gasping for air.

They just stared as
he died in my arms...

But you didn't see who killed him?

If I had, he'd be dead as well.

- Bloody racketeers.
- Racketeers?

Wendel was being extorted.

He never said who, but he stopped
paying, and got killed for it.

Those bastards saw who it
was and they wouldn't say.

Miss Anderson, are you admitting
to the killing those four men?

They weren't men.

They were cowards.

Put down the knife.

No one is going to hurt you.

- Don't come near me.
- Put it down.

Bloody hell!

Well done, Henry.

Sir, I saw her coming in the mirror.

Murdoch. How's our Avenging
Angel this fine morning?

Miss Anderson has
made a full confession.

The constables are
preparing her for transport.

The truth shall set you
free. Good work, Detective.

Pardon the interruption.

Detective Babcock.

I was anxious to hear the details,
if you wouldn't mind sharing.

This was related to my case.

Well, it appears Miss
Anderson murdered the victims

out of revenge for
their part - or lack of -

in the murder of Mr. MacRury.

Wouldn't have thought she had it in her.

Did she admit to his murder?

She maintains she doesn't
know who killed him.

She's confessed to the other four.

It's up to you to solve that one.

I do have a question for you however.

She insists she gave you a
statement on the night of the murder,

and yet it wasn't
included in your notes.

Oh. Perhaps she's mistaken.

She seemed quite insistent.

Do you not remember
taking her statement?

It was a chaotic crime scene, Detective,

you know how it can be.

I'm afraid I don't.

Did you or did you
not take her statement?

I don't believe I did.

- Why is this important?
- It's an inconsistency.

Paul! Paul, help me!

- Hey, Paul, look at me!
- How does she know your first name?

- What?
- Constables!

Bring Miss Anderson into my office.

Come here.

Miss Anderson.

How do you know the
Detective's first name?

You said you'd keep me safe.

- Why is she here?
- What do you mean safe?

- Take her to jail!
- Quiet! Go on.

He came to me

and said he was a friend of Wendel's,

and how horrible it was the
witnesses wouldn't come forward.

He said if I wanted to
do something about it,

he'd make sure I didn't get caught.

You conspired with her? Why?

- I didn't, she's deranged...
- It was you.

- You murdered Wendel MacRury.
- What? Are you completely insane?

That's why you left the
statement out of the report.

You didn't want the police to
know she had been there that night.

This is ludicrous, I'm a Detective.

You scared the witnesses into silence,

but when you thought they might
not keep your little secret,

you had her eliminate them.

Detective? Is this true?

You had been extorting Wendel MacRury,

and when he refused to pay
you anymore, you murdered him.

Don't make a scene,
keep your hands down.

Not a chance in hell I'm going to
prison. I'm walking out of here.

- Detective.
- Back off.

Detective Babcock, you are under
arrest for the extortion and murder

- of Wendel MacRury.
- Paul!

Tell the devil I'm right behind you.

Higgins, I've worked out a way

for you to keep both jobs,
if that's what you still want.

Yes, it is. Absolutely sir.

Henry Higgins, meet Tim Little.

Hiya, Henry.

I'm afraid I don't understand, sir.

Tim's going to be your new driver.

You'll split shifts.

There's nothing I'd like more, sir,

but I can't afford an employee.

Bloody hell Higgins,
show a bit of ingenuity.

He'll pay you percentage
of what he earns,

to be worked out amongst yourselves.

- The rest he'll keep.
- Can he even...

- Can you drive?
- Well, not exactly but...

He can see over the steering
wheel. Look at the size of him.

What else is there to operating
one of those bloody things?

Perhaps a lesson or two first...

That's good, it's settled.

I'll leave you two to get acquainted.

I'm gonna put the kettle on.

How old are you?

In all honesty, I'm not too sure.

Fifteen, maybe,

I think, fifteen.



Have we been robbed?

Oh my.

My jade!

The sensor must have malfunctioned.

The house is a disaster.

I don't understand what happened...

William, could this be what
happened to the pelican?

Open it and see if
the pieces are inside.

I'm sorry, I emptied it's
contents this morning.

I didn't save anything...

I jumped to conclusions,
and I am truly sorry.

So you found it then?

In a way.

It was rude of me to accuse you of...

Being a thief.

Well, I didn't exactly s...

You're right, I did.

I apologize.

Do you think we can we
try and be friends again?

I can't stay mad at you.

You're a mensch, is what you are.

A mensch?

Is that a good thing? I hope so.

Of course it's a good thing.

You've done this before.


What did you call it?

"Chiseling a mark?"