Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 2, Episode 10 - Murdoch.com - full transcript

Am I interrupting?

Oh. Enid.

Mrs. Jones.
Of course not.

I-I brought flowers.

For your office.

Well, you certainly
didn't need to do that.

They're blue salvias.

I thought they might add
a feminine touch.

Well, um...

They certainly will.

You forgot, didn't you?



- Forgot?
- Our walk.

Oh.

Oh, I'm so sorry.
I got wrapped up in work.

An-- Never mind all that.
A walk would be lovely.

Oh, my.

That doesn't sound good,
does it?

No.
No, it doesn't.

There! That tone!
I will not take that tone!

George, is everything all right?

Sir.
It's Mrs. Brackenreid.

She stopped by to have a word
with the inspector.

Apparently,
he's been very surly of late.

More than usual?

Mm. She seems to think
it has to do with his drinking.



George,
have you been eavesdropping?

It's not very difficult.

Besides, I have
remarkable hearing.

I won't stand for lies, Thomas,
if you are drinking again.

Have you smelled it
on my breath, Margaret?

Have you seen me swallow
as much as a drop of alcohol?

No, but the Temperance League
says there are other signs.

There you go again
with the Temperance League.

Led by the notorious convicted murderer
Levi Beecher, no less.

And there you go again,
throwing it in my face.

At least they're making
an effort.

You don't like my drinking,
my mood, my job.

For Christ's sakes, woman,
what do you like about me?

I don't know anymore.

Well, that's bleeding honest
of you.

I think it's best
that you don't come home.

I'll send
some of your things around.

Good day, Detective.

Mrs. Brackenreid.

Crabtree, have you got
that station report?

Uh, just a few moments, sir.

I don't want any bloody excuses!

Uh, sir, word's just come in.
A body's been found.

Murdoch, you take that.

Well, what are you all
gauping at?!

I'm afraid our walk
will have to wait.

Perhaps later?

It's a date.

And I can assure you,
this time I will not forget.

George.

Sir.

Apparently, this chap walking
his dog discovered the body.

There's nothing identifying
on her person.

Hm.

Very remote area.

I wonder what she was doing here.

Well, It would seem, sir,
she wanted to be alone,

to take her own life.

I'm not so sure
about that, George.

Those lacerations to her wrist seem
quite deep for a suicide.

And further,
they're even and steady.

If these wounds
were self-inflicted,

they would be far more jagged.

Murder, then?

So it would seem.

There's no sign of a struggle.

The question is,

why would this young woman
let someone cut her wrists?

I agree with your observations,
Detective.

These wounds
were not self-inflicted.

Whoever did this to her
was methodical and cold.

But why would she not struggle?

There is light bruising
on her neck,

suggesting she was choked.

Not long enough to kill her --

But long enough
to render her unconscious.

I'll deliver a full report
to the station.

When you come, I wonder
if you might do me a favor.

I'm not sure
what my schedule is like.

It's not for me personally.

Inspector Brackenreid's behavior
has been a bit odd as of late.

I wonder if you could give
your opinion.

Well, yes, of course.

Oh.
This is interesting.

This woman has a callus
on her right index finger.

I think
she was a telegraph operator.

Oh.
Why would you think that?

Enid...

Mrs. Jones has a similar callus
on her index finger

from repeatedly
tapping out code.

Ah.
I see.

Lucky for us
that you know her so well.

Mr. Ryder, Great North Western

is the fifth telegraph company
I've checked with.

I was hoping
you might be able to tell me

the identity
of this young woman.

Oh, no. This is --
This is Veronica Williams.

She missed her shift today.

Williams.

She was found murdered
this morning.

Miss Williams was a lovely girl.

Do you know of anyone
who might have wanted to harm her?

No. Sorry.

I don't know
if this means anything,

but she was a little
out of sorts last week.

Oh? Do you have any idea
what might have been troubling her?

Not at all.
But Miss Tipton might.

They were friends.

Beth.

Yes, Mr. Ryder.

Beth Tipton,
this is Detective Murdoch.

Miss Tipton.

I take it you knew
Veronica Williams.

Of course.
Ronnie's a dear.

Something wrong?

You have to forgive me.

We'd become quite close.

I understand something

had been troubling
Miss Williams recently.

This is a bit awkward, Detective.

You can be assured
of my discretion.

Ronnie was corresponding with someone
on the telegraph lines.

A man.

Do you know who he was?

No.
But I know he made her happy.

At first.

At first?

Ronnie mentioned
that they'd had a disagreement.

Do you know what it was about?

I don't know.

Ronnie was quite private.

But all incoming messages

are automatically printed off
and put on file.

I could get Ronnie's
if you'd like.

Well, that would be
most appreciated.

Crabtree.
A word.

I suppose you heard the missus
carrying on this morning.

Well, for the most part, sir,
I only heard you.

I have remarkably good hearing.

Then you'll know that I've been
abstaining from alcohol.

That's very admirable, sir.

Yes.
Well, it has been difficult.

Soto ease the burden,
I've been prescribed a Gold Cure.

That sounds very exotic.

Bloody expensive is what it is.

Usually I have it delivered
to the house.

But no doubt, you'll be
having it delivered here.

Precisely.

So as soon as it arrives,
I want you to bring it to me.

Sir, consider it in your hands.

And, Crabtree,
keep this under your hat.

This is just between you and me.
Understood?

- Understood, sir.
- Good lad.

Ah, sir, might I have a word
about the Williams case?

What of it?

Well, sir, it seems the victim
was quite upset

about something that occurred
over the telegraph lines.

So find out what it was.

Well, it's not that simple.

You see, I have
all of her correspondence.

Unfortunately,
it's written in Morse code.

It could take days to decipher.

- Well, that won't do, will it?
- No, sir.

That's why I was thinking

of bringing in a telegrapher
to assist me.

Fine, Murdoch.

Do you have someone in mind,

or do you want me to figure
that one out for you as well?

No, sir.
I have someone in...

...mind.

These messages are so personal.

I-It's like I'm snooping
through her diary.

It could help
to capture a killer.

I'm not even sure
that I belong here.

I haven't worked
at Great North Western in some time.

Enid, I know you've kept up your codes
and telegraphy skills.

But more importantly,
I trust you.

And that's a tremendous help.

It is?

Well, it might be fascinating
to see you at work.

Shall we start with this one?

This one.

Oh, bloody hell. Go away!

Inspector, are you all right?

Oh, Doctor.

Uh, is there something I can do for you?

I've finished the postmortem
on Veronica Williams.

I thought you'd want
the results right away.

Give it to Murdoch.

Inspector, are you sure
you're all right?

If not,
my morgue is always open.

Doctor, your attempts at humor
are always charming.

And thank you for your offer,
but, no, thank you.

Now, goodbye.

"How the attentions...
of such a charming creature

could be directed to me,
I know not.

Signed A.K."

This fellow is quite
the slick wordsmith.

I might need to make note
of his prose.

Oh, here's another one.

"I would yield everything...

...just to have the means
to see your face just once.

Signed A.K."

Clearly, whoever this A.K. is,

he and Miss Williams
were having a love affair.

Over the telegraph wires?

- It's surprisingly common.
- Really?

Telegraphy can be quite lonely.

To pass the time,
telegraphers will chitchat

and gossip over the wire.

Some even play games,
like checkers or chess.

And some, like Miss Williams,
form romantic attachments.

But wouldn't an affair
be the talk of the office?

No.
Not at all.

If I could just
draw you a diagram,

it'd be easier
for me to explain.

Yes.
Of course.

Well...

...it's similar to the spokes
on a bicycle.

Telegraph signals travel
over many different lines,

but they intersect
at very few hubs.

Forming a network
of communication.

Yes.

And telegraphers can listen in

to as many different transmissions
as they like,

from anywhere.

Or participate in them.

Well, then how can we find
this A.K.?

I mean, look at this.
It's -- It's a web.

He could be anywhere
in the city.

For that matter,
this could be worldwide.

Fortunately,
while every single transmission

is sent in Morse code,

each company has
their own unique code.

It's for reasons of privacy.

So, would this A.K. have used
one of those unique codes?

He most certainly did.

Ah.
So, what company was involved?

I'm sorry, Detective.
No one here has the initials A.K.

Are you sure?

Quite.

However, there was a K.A.

Kingsley Adams.

But I had to terminate his employment
about four weeks ago.

Oh?
For what reason?

I caught him socializing
over the lines.

George, I'll need you to locate
this Kingsley Adams immediately.

I'll get the men on it, sir.

Mr. Ryder, I'll need to examine
all of the incoming messages

sent to Mr. Adams.

What's so funny, lads?

Oh, nothing at all, sir.

Nothing at all.

Do you expect me
to believe that?

We're just having a laugh, sir.

Oh, I bet you were.

I bet you thought
it was quite funny,

my wife coming here
and carrying on like she did.

No, sir.
Nobody found that funny at all.

You're probably taking her side.
Thinking that I drink too much.

Sir, that's your private affair.
We would never.

She doesn't appreciate
all that I do for her.

She thinks I'm useless.

Oh, sir, I'm sure
she didn't mean that.

Eh?

What do you know about it, Crabtree?

Have you been speaking
to my wife?

No, sir.
Of course not.

If I find that any of you lot has been
speaking to my wife...

- ...behind my back --
- Sir.

I swear to you, no one here
has spoken to your wife.

Of course not.

Carry on, lads.

You're all so serious.

If he carries on like that,
there'll be a mutiny for sure.

George.

Have we any information
on Mr. Adams' whereabouts?

Sir, we've checked his home,
his neighborhood,

even other telegraph companies
to see if one has employed him,

but there's no sign.

He seems to have vanished.

George, one doesn't
simply vanish.

Keep looking.

Yes, sir.

How goes it
with Mr. Adams' communications?

Quite interesting.

So many of the messages
sent to Kingsley

were romantic, sweet,
even salacious.

So he and Miss Williams
were deeply involved?

Well, yes.

But not all of the messages sent
were from Veronica.

Another woman?

Perhaps this was some bizarre
love triangle gone wrong.

I'll have her
brought in immediately.

Do you know who she is?

Actually, it might not be
quite that simple, William.

That's 13 so far.

This Mr. Adams
was quite the lothario.

Indeed.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,
eh, Murdoch?

Apparently not, sir.

With looking after mother,
I have no time for myself.

She's bedridden.

And since he just lost
his mother,

he understood exactly
what I was going through.

No, his mother is still alive.

He lives with her.

I see. And how often
did you say you were in touch?

At least three times a week.

We share such a devotion
to rescuing birds.

He's building me an aviary,

which we laughed about,
because his name is Avery.

No, actually, it's not.
His name is Kingsley Adams.

Kingsley Adams?

But I work with him.

Here in Toronto.

Yes, I know.

Kingsley?

He's paunchy and pale,
like dough.

And very shy.

Miss Tipton,
A.K. communicated with you

in Great North Western code.

Did you never suspect
that it was Kingsley Adams?

No. Never.

There are over 160
Great North Western employees

in three offices.

And that's just Toronto.

Besides, Kingsley
said he was from Ottawa.

I...I had no reason
to disbelieve him.

So you never actually met him
face-to-face?

But only because
he's in Buffalo.

I don't understand.

If he's from Toronto,
then why in the world

would he borrow money
to travel to see me?

I knew something wasn't right
when he asked for the money.

Yet you gave it to him?

And you never
heard from him again.

No.

I didn't.

This is all so embarrassing.

All of us duped
by that pitiful creature.

We were just a bunch
of lonely fools.

Beth?

Beth Tipton?

Enid Jones!

Are you working
for the police force now?

Oh, heavens, no.

But you're still
with Great North Western?

I am.

Oh, dear.

- Kingsley Adams didn't --
- No.

I'm only here to help translate
some telegraphic messages.

Oh.

It's all so humiliating.

It's good to see
that you're doing so well.

How is Alwyn?
He must be 9 by now.

He's very well.

We're living on our own,
making ends meet.

And are you involved
with anyone?

Perhaps.

I should get back
to my translating.

Oh, of course.

It was good to see you.

Bye.

So, this Adams,

he seduces several women,
earns their trust,

and then starts asking
for money.

He bilked many of them
out of their life savings.

But why go from fraud to murder?

Maybe he slipped up

and Miss Williams
caught him in his lies.

Now he's up and disappeared.

So how are we supposed
to catch the bugger?

He doesn't know
we're onto him yet.

So?

Maybe we should meet him
where he's most comfortable.

On the telegraph lines.

Aren't you just being
a little bit stupid?

He's not going to answer
to a copper, is he?

No, sir.
Not a copper.

I propose we lure Mr. Adams out

by creating
the perfect female target.

Wouldn't that be very dangerous
for her, sir?

She's not gonna be real, Crabtree.

She's only gonna exist
over the telegraph wires.

Right, then.

Let's make a list
of her qualities.

Uh, very attractive.

He's not going to see her.

Well, there's no harm
in her sounding attractive.

Well, in that case,
I like a woman with spunk.

Spunk.

I think a combination
of domesticity and career.

Independent,
yet not selfishly so.

Independent.

A woman who gives you
a little bit of trouble

every now and again,
keeps things interesting.

Someone you feel at ease with,
yet challenges you.

A woman with strong hips.

An intellectual.

- A woman with large --
- Sir, I'm sure that's enough.

Right, then. I suppose
we should give her a name.

How about Molly?

Sounds sweet,
yet still a little saucy.

Fine.

Who is going to play Molly?

So, Molly.

What's the holdup?

Taking a long time, isn't it?

We did have to wire in
this portable telegraph, sir.

Yes. Well, it's here now,
so let's get cracking.

Will he even hear us?

If Mr. Adams is out there,
he'll hear us, Inspector.

So, how do we do this?

We'll just send out a hello
over the lines

and see if we can grab
anyone's attention.

Try, "Hello, my name is Molly.

I'm new to Toronto.

Such a big city."

No, no, no.
You have to do better than that.

Say, "I've been looking
for a good teahouse.

Does anyone have a suggestion?"

Well, it's obviously
not going to work, is it?

Patience, sir.
Patience.

What are they saying?

It's someone
claiming to be a young man.

He suggests... Mary's...

on... Arbor Street.

His signature is T.S.

This could take forever.

Is he always so impatient?

This is exceptional,
even for him.

Yes. No, sir.
Trust me, please.

You need to give me the package.

I appreciate that very much,
but I have explicit orders.

Thank you.

Constable?

Who was that gentleman?

Uh, just -- just a deliveryman.

It's most curious.

I believe he's also an attendant
at Toronto General Hospital.

- Oh?
- Who is the package for?

- The inspector.
- Is he ill?

I'm not really at liberty
to say.

I see, but if the package
was delivered by an attendant,

then it must be medicinal.

I-I suppose that makes sense.

I wonder
if it would also make sense

that the attendant was meant
to administer the medicine.

- Why would that be?
- Otherwise...

...why not simply send
a delivery boy?

Well...

And furthermore, since you
sent the attendant away,

the inspector's not going to be able
to take his medicine,

now, is he?

Yes, I see.

Perhaps given
my medical experience,

I should take the package in.

Um...

Yes. Yes, I suppose
that would be for the beat.

Of course it would be.

Inspector.

Doctor, I'm, uh,
quite busy at the moment.

What are you doing with that?

- Where's --
- The attendant?

I'm afraid Constable Crabtree
sent him away.

What?! The bloody dimwit can't follow
even simple instructions.

Inspector, what is going on?

It's only an injection I'm taking.
The Keeley Gold Cure.

I've heard of it.

For alcohol cravings?

This is absolutely
none of your business.

Yes, I suppose not,
but you are going to need someone

to administer the injection.

Oh, no, no, no.

It'll be a cold day in hell

before any woman
other than the wife

comes anywhere
near my backside, love.

Well, if not me, you'll be needing
much longer arms.

We'll see about that.

Murdoch!

You're a good man, Murdoch.
A man to ride the river with.

I'm glad
you're feeling better, sir.

Much better.

Higgins!
Put the kettle on!

The inspector's Gold Cure

certainly seems to perform miracles.

Doesn't it?

He must be suffering terribly
from alcohol withdrawal.

Indeed.

Detective Murdoch!

It's A.K.

He's attempting
to contact Molly.

I must attend to this.

Of course.

But I would continue
to keep an eye on him, William.

Yes.
Of course.

I was just saying
that Molly was new to the city

when he asked me
how I liked Toronto.

Shall I ask him where he is?

No, no.
Not too soon.

We don't want to risk
scaring him off.

Um...

Tell him, "I was hoping the city
would offer more adventures."

He says...

"Molly will find adventure."

He's fond of adventure, too.

Your answer.

I'm thinking.

You have to answer quickly,

or he might lose interest
in the conversation.

Um...

"What kind of adventures?"

"One... that involves...

a certain young woman."

Oh, my.
This sounds familiar.

"How the attentions
of such a charming creature

could be directed to me,
I know not."

Ha!

"What do you want to know
about me?"

"Everything.

Are you... married?"

Detective.

"I was...

but my husband has passed."

"I am sorry."

"But he left me with a son."

Enid, please.

We mustn't lose him.

"I... would...

like... to...

meet him... one day."

He says he must go
but hopes to talk later.

Excellent.

Might I have a word with you?
In private.

Yes.
Of course.

That was most successful.

William, I would rather
that you did not use

my personal information.

A quick decision had to be made.
You said so yourself.

Bringing up my dead husband
in front of your constables --

It was most uncomfortable.

But the idea that this killer
knows that I have a son.

There's no way
he can know it's Alwyn.

Alwyn is everything to me.

And I would do anything
to protect him.

I apologize.

My actions were inappropriate.

Sir, another body
has been found.

Interestingly,
just a short distance

from where we discovered
Miss Williams.

Please excuse me, Mrs. Jones.

A young couple
met for a rendezvous.

They thought the stench
was a dead animal.

Instead, they found this.

Here.

- Hmm?
- Camphor.

Rub it on your lip
to mask the odor.

We may have a serious problem, George.

Kingsley Adams.

Sir, clearly, this body
has been here for some time.

If this is Kingsley Adams,
then how --

How could he have been telegraphing me

only minutes ago?

An excellent question indeed.

This is definitely
Kingsley Adams.

His dental records confirm it.

And given the state
of decomposition --

He's been dead so long,

he couldn't have murdered
Veronica Williams.

Have you a cause of death?

Blunt-force trauma.

His temporal bone was shattered.

His body was found
at a known lovers' rendezvous.

Perhaps he was meeting
one of his young ladies there,

one who'd become upset
with his misrepresentations.

I don't understand
this new form of courting.

Over telegraph lines?

Many people become engaged
through letter writing.

But this seems
so much more impersonal.

Yes.

I'm a fan of chemistry myself.

The way a person smells,

the effect they have on you
when you're around them.

Julia?

Yes?

I said, can you tell me
when you think he might have died?

Oh, yes.
Um, of course.

I believe he's been dead
roughly three weeks.

Three weeks.

Most interesting.

Thank you, Doctor.

Three weeks.
That's significant.

That's significant
because Kingsley Adams

was -- was -- was...

He was murdered
approximately three weeks ago.

And he was fired from his job
four weeks ago.

Right. Right.
But there's something else.

Something that I just can't quite grasp.

Well, during that time,
It seems he went from Casanova

to fraudulent charlatan.

Yes.
Personality change.

Good observation, Crabtree.
Well done. Like that.

It would suggest that someone murdered
Kingsley Adams

and assumed his identity
over the telegraph lines.

Tragic.
But why do that?

To use his intimate relationships
with women

to cheat them out
of their money.

Which they happily gave him.

It's most cruel, really.

This bugger needs sorting out.

So, how do I get my hands
on him?

We know for certain
he's a telegrapher.

- As were the two murder victims.
- Didn't they work together?

Same company,
something like that?

Yes, they did, until he was dismissed
for socializing.

With that Williams woman.
Amongst others.

Perhaps we're still looking
at a love triangle.

But, sir, we've already spoken

with all of Mr. Adams' conquests.

Actually, I wasn't thinking
of Mr. Adams.

Good.

Good.

Miss Tipton,
was Miss Williams involved

with anyone other
than Kingsley Adams?

No, I...

I don't think so.

Miss Tipton, are you
withholding something from me?

I once saw -- well, peeked --

at some of Ronnie's
incoming messages.

It seems she had become involved
with another man

over the telegraph lines.

Why did you not tell me
of this before?

Well, I didn't want
to get into any trouble.

Trouble?
Why would you get into trouble?

Because, Detective,
this other man was my employer.

Frankly, I'm offended
at the insinuation

that I may have had something
to do with either Mr. Adams'

or Miss Williams' death.

But you do admit you were involved
with Miss Williams?

But only
over the telegraph lines.

I couldn't help myself.

She was quite... eager.

Why didn't you mention this before?

As you know, I've dismissed people
for such dalliances.

I couldn't be seen
as hypocritical.

But there is something
so alluring

about telegraphic romance.

How so?

One can be bolder.

More... explicit.

Perhaps when you learned
Miss Williams

was having a bolder,
more explicit relationship

with Kingsley Adams,
you made him pay with his life.

I did no such thing.

Where were you three weeks ago?

In Hamilton, helping my brother
and his new bride move.

I took a week from work,

so if that's when Adams was killed,
I couldn't have done it.

We'll be checking into that.

I advise that you do.

What do you mean you couldn't find
anything on Ryder?

Well, his alibi checks out, sir.

Did I give you permission
to speak?

- Uh, w-well, no.
- No!

So keep your bloody trap shut, then!

You're a disgrace,
the lot of you!

Poor excuse for that uniform
you're wearing!

Do I have to do everything around here
by myself?!

Shift, Crabtree!

Sir, might I have a word?

Sir!

Get your bloody hand off me.

Sir, I think I'm speaking
for the rest of the men

when I say that we're very concerned
about your behavior.

- Sir!
- I said take your hand off.

Sir, there's something wrong with you.

Everybody knows it,
even your missus,

but you refuse to --

So, Doctor, this is what you
get up to down here, is it?

Sometimes.

This is a surprise, Inspector.

Is there something
I can help you with?

I believe there is.

I've not been acting like myself
of late.

There was an incident
between me and Crabtree.

While he is
an annoying little so-and-so,

he's not that annoying.

- Is he all right?
- Yes, yes.

The Gold Cure
that I've been taking --

I think it's having
a strange effect on me.

Yes. I've thought
the very same thing.

- You have?
- Yes, since your shot.

I was simply waiting
to confirm my observations.

Well, there's no need
to wait any further.

Would you like me to analyze it for you?

I'd appreciate that.

- Good day, Doctor.
- Good day.

I don't know how you do it.

How I do what?

Gamble with people's lives.

At least that's what
this feels like to me.

Enid, I do what I have to
to capture a killer.

- Is it him?
- Yes.

What's he saying?

He says he likes me.

Molly.

What should I tell him?

Tell him what you have to.

"I like you, too."

He's asking if I'm involved
with anyone.

"It's difficult to say.

There is so much to consider

when you have a young son
who needs a father."

What is it?

He says, "Ah, yes.
Alwyn."

H-How does he know? How does --
How does he know Alwyn's name?

You have to ask him.

"How do you know his name?"

He says I sound like someone
who used to work with him.

Oh, my God.
He knows it's me.

William, he knows it's me.

You can't lose him.
Enid, please.

You have to be strong.

"I don't know what you mean."

"It's not nice...

to lie... Enid.

Veronica lied to me.

Beth lied to me."

He's gone!

He knows about Beth, me, Alwyn.

- William!
- Nothing will happen to you.

I'll send constables around

to take care of Alwyn
straightaway.

Where are you going?

If anyone's in danger,
it's Beth Tipton.

I'll be right back.

Everything will be fine.

We're too late, sir.

So it would seem.

Gabriel Ryder's walking stick.

He was here, then.

Yes.

But more than that,

Gabriel Ryder and Kingsley Adams
are one and the same.

Listen up, lads.
This is Gabriel Ryder.

He's suspected
of kidnapping Beth Tipton,

and he's most likely a killer.

I want this bastard caught
before he hurts this woman.

Well, let's get a move on.

Oh, and, gentlemen,
just to be clear --

I've got total faith
in each and every one of you.

Sirs, lads,
Ryder's house has been searched.

She's not there. Also, he didn't return
to work this morning.

What about Alwyn?

Master Alwyn is safe, ma'am.
He's with a constable.

- Thank goodness.
- Crabtree. A word.

Thank you for agreeing to stay.

Your help could prove to be invaluable.

I'm doing this for Beth.

Of course.

About what happened.

- It's all right, sir.
- No, it's not.

And if you want to get me back,
that'd be all right.

Get you back, sir?

Go on.
Hit me.

- Hit you?
- Hit me.

No, sir.
It's really...

Call it even?

Pathetic.

Ah.

Doctor, do come in.

Please, take a seat.

Have you any news for me?

Yes.

I analyzed your Gold Cure.

It contains absolutely no gold.

It does, however, contain traces
of strychnine and cocaine.

Cocaine?

Your mood swings have nothing to do
with alcohol withdrawal.

What you are suffering from
is cocaine addiction.

I suggest you stop taking it
immediately.

However, it won't be easy.

I'm prepared for that.

Well, it may be simpler
than repairing other damages.

Thank you, Doctor.

I'll take that under advisement.

Detective!

- Is it him?
- No.

It's Beth!

- Miss Tipton.
- She's sending an S.O.S.

Can you find out where she is?

She's at
the Great North Western office.

George, organize the men

and search the building
for Mr. Ryder.

- Sir.
- Miss Tipton, are you all right?

It was Gabriel.

He came to my apartment
and -- and -- and --

- I let him in and then --
- It's all right.

It's all right. You're fine now.
Where is he?

I tried to get away from him,
but he forced me to come here.

I see.

He's gonna come back and get me.
I just know it.

No, he won't.

He's gonna kill me.
Please, j-just get this off of me.

Drink some tea, dear.
You'll feel better.

I can't stop shaking.

I know, dear.
I know.

Sir, we stationed men
at the train station.

- No sign of Mr. Ryder.
- Very good.

Though I doubt
they'll be necessary.

Something not sitting right
with you, sir?

- No, it's not.
- I know what you mean.

There certainly are questions.

Why would Mr. Ryder
transport Miss Tipton

to the telegraph office
just to leave here there unharmed?

I mean, why not --

Why not just kill her?

Something more tangible
than questions, George.

If I were to tie your hands
behind your back,

where would the knot
of the rope be?

I suppose it would be
on the outside of my hands

facing you, sir.

Yes.

Yet when I untied Miss Tipton,

the knot was on the inside,
between her hands and her body.

And how would it get like that?

Miss Tipton tied the knot herself.

In fact, she orchestrated
her own kidnapping.

And most likely killed
Kingsley Adams

and Veronica Williams.

And Mr. Ryder?

His fate's unknown.

How can we prove any of this?

George, how are
your telegraphy skills?

Sir, poor at best.

That'll do nicely.

Thank you, Detective.

And how are you feeling,
Miss Tipton?

Much better now.

I think if I could just go home
and rest, I'll be fine.

Of course.

Oh, my goodness.

- What is it, Mrs. Jones?
- A transmission.

- It's from Gabriel Ryder.
- Gabriel?

What's he saying?

It's difficult to make out.

It seems he's been hurt.

A-Attacked?

I can't quite understand.

Detective, I don't know
if I can listen to this.

Please, I-I'd --
I'd really like to go home.

Miss Tipton,
I must insist you remain here.

Ask him where he is.

Detective,
I think I'd rather go home.

Well, that would be
far too risky.

Then I'll go
to my brother's house.

Please, Detective,
I must insist.

He's not responding.

Very well, then.
I'll have a couple of constables --

No!

Miss Tipton.

I need to leave.

It's against my better judgment.

So that's where you hid
Mr. Ryder.

Thank you for leading me to him.

But how?

The telegraph can be
such a deceitful device.

Anyone can impersonate anyone.

Even a lowly constable

could become the dead manager
of a telegraph company.

And a lonely, bitter woman
can become a murderer.

When I realized
that a few kind words from A.K.

could open
a woman's change purse,

I thought to myself,
"Beth Tipton,

you don't need to be a telegraph
operator the rest of your life."

So you killed them.

You killed Kingsley Adams,
assumed his identity,

and continued to exploit
the other women.

But Miss Williams found out, didn't she?

Ronnie became suspicious.

One day I found her going through
my transmissions.

And Mr. Ryder?

He was supposed to take the blame,
but you set him free.

So I thought of the kidnapping.

He was so easily led
into temptation.

I suppose he was to disappear,
never to be heard from again.

Maybe.

Or maybe he'd send you
another taunting message.

Just to prove he'd escaped.

That's the funny thing
about the telegraph, Detective.

You never really know
who's on the other end, do you?

Margaret.

Thomas.

Thank you for seeing me.

I know that I've been ill-humored
lately.

- Because of the drink.
- No, because of the Gold Cure!

You're making excuses, Thomas.

It's got cocaine in it, woman!

But you're right, though.
That's no excuse.

You're not exactly a walk in the park,
though, either,

not since
this Temperance League thing.

Why do you think
I joined the League?

Just to stop you from drinking?

Yes.

No.
Truthfully, I'm not quite sure.

Thomas, I wanted you
to listen to me again,

like before the children.

You don't even take me
to the theater anymore.

Well, you have my attention now.

I think a compromise
is in order.

I'll quit the Temperance League
if you'll quit drinking.

It's not like I'm coming home late
every night,

spending all hours down the pub.

Thomas.

If that's what you want,
I'll stop drinking.

Or... perhaps we could consider
moderation.

That might work.

And can I persuade you

to join me
for "Romeo and Juliet" next week?

I don't know.

Isn't that the one
where they both die in the end?

Yes, but only 'cause
they can't bear to be apart.

Thomas.

Oh. Here.
Let me help you.

You've had a long day.

Thank you.

Alwyn will be waiting.

May I walk you home?

You've your work to finish.

Enid...

I'm sorry for what's happened.

There's nothing
to be sorry about.

This has been an eye-opening experience
for me.

And now I know you
a little bit better.

I see.

When can I see you again?

I just need a little time
to myself, William.

Oh.
I'm interrupting.

No, no.
I was just leaving.

- Good day, Dr. Ogden.
- Good day, Mrs. Jones.

I was just stopping by to drop something
off to the inspector,

to help with his withdrawal symptoms.

Do you know where he is?

I have no idea.

Blue salvias.

From Mrs. Jones?

Yes.

"I think of you."

Pardon?

The meaning of blue salvias --
"I think of you."

Of course.

Good day, Detective.

Good day, Doctor.