Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 2, Episode 8 - I, Murdoch - full transcript

A young boy witnesses what sounds like a robot and men with guns near the creek where he was fishing, but no one at the precinct quite believes him.


Hey, mister!

I want to report a crime.

Down here.

- Come on, you.
- Aah!

What have we here?

I saw --

I was down by the river fishing,
and there were -- there were --

Calm down, young one.
Take your time.

I was down by the river fishing,
and I saw a giant silver knight.

Did you, now?

Um, Detective Murdoch?

This young chap here --

Alwyn Jones.

Alwyn claims to have seen
some sort of giant down by the river.

Not a giant.

A giant silver knight.

And some men.

And I heard "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

- Gunshots?
- I think so.

We need to search the area
for clues.

Well, that is quite a story.

It's not a story.
It really happened.

Alwyn, is it?

Why don't you and I
go and have a look?

You get the most bites
just before sunrise.

This here's the best spot.

I even had a fish on my line
when I heard the bangs.

Where did all of this happen?

Over there.

I was ascared to get any closer,

but I could see
the giant knight.

But that's not what I saw.

I'm not making it up.

I know, Alwyn.

There were shots.

Probably hunters.

You did the right thing
coming to me.

Now let's get you home
for breakfast.

What the blazes?!

Can't you see where --

Yes. Well...

Blind man.


Are you okay, sir?

It's been just the two of us
since my father died.

Mother used to work
for the telegraph company,

but she had to leave
to look after me.

She was really good, too.

She knew all the codes
and everything.

Alwyn, you had me worried sick.

But we were looking
for the giant knight

I saw down by the river.

I am so sorry.

Alwyn has
a very vivid imagination.

I didn't imagine it.

Alwyn, you must learn
to tell the difference between --


Sir, you're needed.
I'm afraid there's been a mur--

Uh, thank you, Constable.
I'll be with you in a moment.

Master Jones,
if ever you or your mother

are in need of police help,

come to the station
and ask for me.

Thank you for your kindness...

Detective Murdoch.

What do we have, George?

Ah, sir.

This gentleman collapsed mid-street,
died on the spot.

What makes you think
it wasn't natural causes?

Well, sir,
have a look at the body.


I see what you mean.

Also, sir,
an old friend of ours is here.

What friend is that?

The one with the Martian airship
who chloroformed us.

Terrence Meyers.

If he's here, then something
very, very bad is afoot.

Mr. Meyers.

Detective Murdoch.

Here to gas me again?

Ah, can't let bygones
be bygones, huh?

I'm odd that way.

What brings you
to our crime scene?

Oh, nothing more than
healthy curiosity, Detective.

I happened to be in the area,

and I was drawn
to all the commotion.

- Mere happenstance, then?
- Mm.

Well, I'm sure you'll
be attacking this investigation

with your usual
dogged determination.

And I look forward
to reading about the outcome

in the newspaper.

So, Detective.

What can you tell me, Doctor?

My first thought
is that he died of asphyxia,

most likely caused by poison.


The victim has an almond scent
emanating from him.

Together with
the cherry-red skin color,

it strongly suggests --

Prussic acid.

Even a trace amount
can cause near-instant death.

Explaining the victim's
sudden collapse.

Ezra Dolomore.

May I remove the body now?

Of course.


What have you, George?

Several witnesses claim
that as the victim expired,

he was pointing and kept repeating,
"The blind man."

"The blind man"?

Yes, and one witness recalls
a blind man bumping into him.

Blind, my ass.

He could see just as well
as me or you.

You or I, sir.

No doubt the glasses and cane
were a disguise.

And Terrence Meyers,
what was he doing there?

He's not just out
for a casual stroll

amongst the local riffraff,
is he?

I highly doubt his presence there
was a coincidence.

How did he get there so quickly?

Perhaps he has a spy amongst us.

In my station?

Perish the thought, Murdoch.

Most likely he was already interested
in the victim.

Then what could this Dolomore fellow
have been up to

that would interest
a government agent?

I don't know.

But I intend to find out.

Professor Dolomore
built it himself.

He was good with his hands.
Quite good with them.

I mean, always tinkering away
on something.

I'm terribly sorry
for your loss, Mrs. Eason.

How long had you been
with the professor?

Detective, I'm a married woman
and would never --

Oh, I-I meant professionally.

Of course.

Nine years now.

I suppose I'm a little upset.

I'll miss the little bugger.


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

Not that I know of.

But he was a fiery one.

Go off about
the least little thing.

Sir, what do you make of this?

Algebraic formulae.

The professor's latest project.

I don't understand
how he made any sense of it,

but when he was inspired...

Here, George.

Oh, sir, uh,

I'm afraid I-I only made it
as far as the fourth standard.

I want you to copy it down, George,
not solve it.

All right.

Mrs. Eason, had there been
anything amiss recently

with the professor?

Well, he was
a little out of sorts.


It's those terrible people
he worked for.

They would upset him
something awful.

He'd come home in such a dither.

Did he happen to mention
what was upsetting him?


And what department

was the professor working with
at the university?

Oh, he didn't teach anymore.

These past few years,
he'd done all his work

for a company called
Hammerton Industries.

Hammerton Industries
produces hydraulic

and pneumatic equipment
for use in manufacturing.

Mr. Hammerton,

what did Professor Dolomore
do for you specifically?

Ezra was
a theoretical mathematician.

We financed his research.

Heady stuff.

What was he researching?

Anything and everything, really.

Our specialty is making
the theoretical a reality.

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

Well, his personality
was mercurial.

He often had
strong disagreements

with anyone holding
an opposing viewpoint.

Apparently Professor Dolomore
was quite upset

about something
regarding his work.

Do you have any idea
what that might have been?

Well, he and I had
frequent fallings-out.

But I learned some time ago
not to take these things personally.

And what were
these arguments about?

I live in a practical world, Detective.

Business decisions cannot be based
on flights of fancy.

Ezra couldn't accept that.

I see.

Thank you.

Oh, one more thing,
Mr. Hammerton.

Does the name Terrence Meyers
mean anything to you?

Should it?


Thank you.
I'll see myself out.

And you think that a clue
lies in this formula?

Formulae, sir.
There are more than one.

Hammerton Industries
thought enough

of Professor Dolomore's work
that they funded his research.

And these projects are
valuable enough to kill over?

Depending on what they are, yes.

And what are they?

Well, that's very complex.

And I'm not sure yet.

Sir, a very mysterious package
has arrived for you.

And you'll notice
it smells delicious.

Thank you, George.

At this station, Murdoch,
we share the spoils.

What have we got here?

Ah, home-baked, no less.

- And a note.
- Thank you.

"Thank you for bringing me home,
Detective Murdoch.

I hope you like rhubarb.

Yours sincerely, Alwyn Jones."

Alwyn -- That's the boy
who came in about the giant.

Boy? Giant?

Does this lad have
an older sister?

A mother, actually.
She's a widow.


Uh, Dr. Ogden has asked for you
in the morgue.

Thank you, Constable.

We'll take good care of this, Murdoch.

Seems like Dr. Ogden's
getting a run for her money.

Actually, sir, I think
the doctor and Detective Murdoch

are on the outs.


Why was I not made aware
of this?



I'm able to confirm
that Ezra Dolomore

died of prussic-acid poisoning.

Ah, very good.
Thank you.

But you didn't call me here

to confirm something
we already suspected.


Yes, you're right.
I didn't.

After further examination,
I discovered this.

It was lodged
in our victim's lower calf.

A pellet?

Not just any pellet.

It's hollow and has a tiny hole
drilled in its surface.

Something seems
to be coating it.

Yes, I noticed that as well.
Wax, I believe.

But for what purpose?

Suppose the pellet
was filled with a poison.

Wax could have acted as a seal.

And if the pellet was then injected
into someone...

Within seconds, their body temperature
would melt the wax.

Allowing the poison
to exude into the bloodstream.


A sophisticated
time-delay mechanism.


Allowing the murderer
to simply walk away from the scene

with no one the wiser.

But how was that possible
in such a public place?

What the blazes?!

Can't you see where --

A blind man
bumped into Mr. Dolomore

shortly before he died.

He could have injected him then.


With his cane.

No doubt a sophisticated
pressurized weapon of some sort,

like an air rifle.

How fantastic,
like something from a novel.

Who would go to such trouble?

A professional killer?

Why on earth would anyone

want to assassinate
a mathematics professor?

I believe I may have
some answers for you.

Mr. Meyers.


What I'm about to reveal
to you both

must be kept
in the strictest confidence.

No doubt a matter
of national security.


The person responsible
for Ezra Dolomore's death

is a Prussian agent.

His name is Caspar Bomgaarts.

And I'd very much like you, Detective,

to locate and apprehend him.

Mr. Meyers,
I would very much appreciate it

if you would refrain
from smoking in my morgue.


Who is this Bomgaarts,

and what has he to do
with Professor Dolomore's death?

Let's just say that information
is a matter of --

- National security.
- National security.


Well, if this is so important,

why haven't you
apprehended him already?

My entanglements are such
that I can't be perceived

to be persecuting
a Prussian national.

On the other hand,
if a local authority

were to be investigating
a murder, well...


The Prussian.

Mr. Meyers,
after our first adventure,

what makes you think that I would
possibly do your bidding?

Because, Detective,
you have a murder to solve.

Caspar Bomgaarts.

What kind of asinine name
is that?


I know it's Prussian.

Just why is it so asinine?

But I suppose that explains
the prussic acid.

Actually, sir,
that's a coincidence.

Prussian, prussic.

Yes, its name is derived
from the fact

that it's used to create
a pigment called Prussian blue.

It's used in dyes and paints.

George, I'll need you
to find this man.

- Start at the consulate.
- I don't think so.

If he is an agent, we don't want to be
ruffling any feathers.

Good point.

You'll have to be resourceful, George.

And no heroics, bugalugs.

This Bomgaarts
is clearly dangerous.

Don't try apprehending him alone.


So, what was Dolomore working on

that would make the Prussians
want to assassinate him?

As far as I can tell,
they're a series of algorithms.


Yes, it's Latin
for "calculating method,"

although their origins lie
with Persian mathematicians.

I meant what are they?


Well, they're a series
of calculations

that lead to more calculations
that end in a concrete result.


Say you have two numbers.

It's a mathematical way
of reducing them

down to zero or one --
concrete result.

So what bloody use is that?

Sir, it's a concrete result --
one or zero, on or off.

So it could be used
like in machines, say,

to turn a switch on or off?

That is a possible application.

Hammerton Industries
builds machines.

Yes, they do.

What kind of machine, then?

I have no idea,

but clearly Professor Dolomore
had more notes somewhere.


Mrs. Eason?

Detective Murdoch.

What have you done
to the professor's house?

Someone, not me,
has ransacked it.

What on earth for?

I believe the professor
had in his possession

some very valuable documents.

And someone was eager
to get their hands on them.

But what are you doing
to the professor's clock?

Well, I suspect the professor
hid those documents

to keep them from falling
into the wrong hands.

And you think he hid them
in the clock?

For some reason,
the clock wasn't keeping time,

and you told me yourself
that he built it.

When I said the professor
was good with his hands,

I wasn't talking
about the clock.


But if what you're looking for

are the professor's journals,

he gave them to me
a few days ago.

Why didn't you
tell me this earlier?

He said to tell no one,
no matter who they claimed to be.

Of course.
Of course.

Mrs. Eason, I suspect
that whatever is in those documents

may have cost the professor
his life.

Very well.

I suppose you'll be wanting
the letter, too.

What letter?

The one he had written
to the prime minister.

"I accuse my employers

of stealing public dollars

allocated for pure
scientific research

in order to bastardize my work

for their own
crass monetary gain."

Just what kind of work was that?

According to his journals,
Professor Dolomore

was working on his own version
of Babbage's Analytical Engine.

Analytical Engine?

Yes, a machine
capable of solving

complex mathematical problems
at a speed far beyond human.

A computing machine.

So why haven't I heard
of this Analytical Engine?

- Because there isn't one.
- Oh.

It would have had to be massive,

making it too impractical
and expensive to complete.

So Dolomore must have believed
he'd solved those problems.

But what's the value
in a computing machine?

I've got a slide rule and an abacus,
and they work just fine.

Well, for one thing,
it could compute these algorithms.

To run a machine of some sort.

Oh, Mr. Hammerton?

You've, uh, made an arrest?

Unfortunately, no.

I do, however,
have more questions for you.

Of course. Well, I'm just
on my way to a business meeting.

May we ride and talk?


Ah, yes.
Analytical engine, was it?

I'm not surprised.

- You knew of it?
- Of course.

And let me tell you, Detective,
if that device worked,

it would change the world
as we know it.

How so?

There's a revolution coming.

And the battlefield
is the factory.

I'm not following you, sir.

We build industrial machines.

Currently they're run by men.


But what if those men
weren't needed?

What if those machines
could run themselves?

For that, the machines
would have to be able to think.

That's where Professor Dolomore's work
fit in.


Machines that can run themselves.

And whatever company
embraced them

would make unheard-of profits.

What of the workers
who would all lose their jobs?

They'd be living
the life of luxury.

Machines doing their work
for them.

It seems to me this is something

that would be worth
killing over.

A device that could change
the economic face of the planet.

We'll never know.

If only Ezra had finished
his work.

If only.

Uh, sir, might I have a word with you
about Caspar Bomgaarts?

Ah, yes.
Have you found him?

He's proving to be
quite the slippery customer.

I began by making a list
of places I might go

if I were Prussian.

The list was long, and most of the
places I would go to anyway.

That is, until I discovered
the existence

of a Prussian social club
right here in Toronto.

Oh? And?

Well, Bomgaarts
is a regular patron there.

He's very partial

to the Bavarian sausage
and sauerkraut they served,

both of which, by the way,
are delicious.

He was also a great drinker
of pilsner

and an exceptional player
of darts.

Yes, yes, yes, George.

Long and short of it, sir,

is he hasn't been to the club
in several days.

Nobody knows where he lives.

Nobody seems to know much
about him at all.

Well, keep looking.

We need to find him.
And be careful.


Oh, and, sir, you have a guest.

Mrs. Jones.

Detective Murdoch,
I'm sorry to disturb you.

But I-I didn't know
who else to turn to.

- What's happened?
- Alwyn has gone missing.

Are you sure?

He's always home for dinner.

It's now three hours past.

That's peculiar.

- Was he upset about something?
- No, no.

Well, he's been nattering
on and on about the giant.

Might that be it?

I'll start by having a look
down by the river.


- Alwyn!
- Master Jones!



I can't see anything!

- Master Jones!
- Alwyn!

He has to be out here, gentlemen.

Master Jones!

Alwyn, where are you?

You won't be punished!

Master Jones!

I just want you safe
and home with me!

Master Jones!


I think we've got something!

What is it?

Drowning victim,
I'm afraid, sir.

Found something!

Down by the water, cops!

Mrs. Jones,
you'd best stay here.

Sir, she probably
shouldn't see this.

Thank you, George.

- Mrs. Jones, please stay back.
- No. I need to see.

- You should stay back.
- Constable!

Bring that lantern over!

Coming, sir!

Sir, it's not the boy.

In fact, it's not a boy at all.

It's a dwarf.

I never even thought,
"Who is that poor man?"

I just thanked God
it wasn't Alwyn.

That's only natural.

He's, uh...

He's everything in the world
that matters to me.

Of course.

Well, nothing more
can be done here tonight.

My men will keep searching.

And the moment we find anything,
you will be the first to know.

Constable, could you please
see Mrs. Jones safely home?

We'll not rest
until Alwyn is found.

I know.


Prussic acid again?

Almost certainly.

There's also some strange bruising
and abrasions

on the medial side
of the navicular bone.


Based on corneal opacity, rigor,
and state of decay,

I'd estimate time of death
was roughly 48 hours ago.

About the same time Alwyn claims

to have witnessed strange events
in the area.

He also mentioned gunfire,

but the victim seems
to have been poisoned, not shot.

Alwyn -- Is that his name?


If only I'd taken him
more seriously, perhaps...

William, you can't
blame yourself for this.

It's not your fault.

You'll find him.

You're right.
I will.

You been working here all night?

I caught a few winks at my desk.

Do we know
who the second victim is?

There was nothing on his body
to identify him.

Constable Crabtree
is making inquiries.

And still no word on the lad?


I feel I should be doing more.

Listen, every available man
is out there looking.

I have to keep my mind working.

I'm certain the answer
to Professor Dolomore's death

is somewhere in these formulae.

I just can't seem to --

I have to do something.

Murdoch, be sensible.

There's nothing more to be done.

Alwyn saw something
down by the river.

I intend to find out what.

I would very much appreciate it

if you would refrain
from smoking in my morgue.

- Meyers.
- Nein.

My name is Caspar Bomgaarts.

Your rather clumsy
Constable Crabtree

has been bumbling about
looking for me.

So here I am.

- Wha--
- Ah, ah, ah!

I have the gun.

I ask the questions.


Who killed Professor Dolomore?

According to Terrence Meyers, you did.

Of course he would say that.

But let me tell you this.

I did not kill Dolomore.

Why should I believe you?

Because he was of far more value to me
alive than dead.

If you didn't kill him,
then who did?

I suggest you ask Meyers.

Now it is clear you can be
of no further help to me, Detective.





Who's there?

Who's there?

Who are you?

And what do you want?

I'll be asking
the questions here, Murdoch.


What's the nature
of your relationship

with this Mrs. Jones?

Her son's gone missing.
I'm helping to find him.

Nothing more?


I don't believe you.

She fascinates you, doesn't she?

I --

Answer the question, Murdoch!




Whoa, whoa, whoa.

You were gone such a long time.

What happened?


I was chloroformed again.

Bloody scoundrel.

No, not Meyers.

Not Meyers?
Then who?

Caspar Bomgaarts.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

One thing is certain.

Meyers was down here
by the river.

And I want to know why.

Not bad.

Not bad for a domestic.

- Oh.
- I still prefer my Havanas.

Would you, um, like to try one?

Oh, that's very kind of you,
Mr. Meyers.

Now, what did you want
to see me about, Inspector?

- Hmm.
- Mr. Meyers.


Have you located Bomgaarts yet?

I have.
Or, I should say, he located me.

Then why haven't you
arrested him?

Because I'm not entirely convinced
he's guilty.

Well, that's nonsense.
The man is a killer.

He says the same thing about you.

That is ludicrous.

Mr. Meyers,
why was your brand of cigar

found lying in the grass
near the scene of a murder?

You're way off course there, Detective.

The same place where a young boy,
who is now missing,

said there were
strange goings-on.

A boy's life may be on the line,
Mr. Meyers.

I think it's about time
you came clean

or face the consequences.

Must I remind you, gentlemen,

that I am far beyond
the reach of the law?

But not the press.

And I'm sure they would be
very interested in what I know.

I believe that is called treason.

And I think you know the price for that.

If that's what it takes
to make you talk.

All right.

But I will need a piece
of special equipment.

This is a film projector,

manufactured for us
by Thomas Edison himself.

A projector, you say.

This goes far beyond
the Kinetoscope.

It's simply --



Mr. Meyers?

The film you are about to see was
smuggled out of Prussia

at a cost of a great many lives.

As you may be aware, gentlemen,

Prussia has become a nation
of increasing political influence

as well as military strength,

and can therefore only be perceived
by us as a threat.

But we're not at war
with Prussia.

Fortunately, not yet.

Lights out, please.

What the bloody hell is that?

That, gentlemen,
is the Prussians' Doomsday Automaton.

If such a weapon
were to be unleashed upon us,

it would be unstoppable.

When we discovered
the Prussians had it,

we had no choice but to beat them
at their own game.

Are you saying
you built an automaton?

You didn't build it.

Hammerton Industries did,
didn't they?


But the building of it
wasn't the problem, was it?


No, the automaton
had to be able to react

to battlefield conditions.

It had to think.

That's where
Professor Dolomore's

analytical engine came in.


Which is why the Prussians sent
Bomgaarts to assassinate him,

in an effort
to sabotage our plans.

And now, without Dolomore,
your project is scuttled.

Quite the contrary.

Our automaton has capabilities

far beyond that
of the Prussians'.

It is the ultimate war machine,

therefore the ultimate instrument
of peace.

Detective, you have been charged
by your government

to locate an assassin.

I suggest you carry through
on your assignment.

Please do not touch the machine.

My men will be by momentarily
to collect it.

Supercilious sod.

What do you make
of this Doomsday Automaton business?

I suspect that what young,

now-missing Alwyn Jones
saw down by the river

was a demonstration
of Mr. Meyers' automaton.

So the bloody thing works.


Yet according to
Professor Dolomore's notes,

his analytical engine
wouldn't have fit in this room,

let alone inside
the automaton's head.

Then it couldn't work.

I smell a rat, Murdoch.


So whatever is going on,

it seems that young Master Jones
is caught up in it.

His mother must be worried sick.

I should go and visit her.

Uh, sir, I found the identity
of the dwarf.

Very good, George.

He was a circus performer.

Went by the show name
of Big Littleman.


The stilts' leather straps
could explain

the strange pattern of bruising
on his feet.

Except this flyer is very old.

Apparently Mr. Littleman
left the show years ago.

What's he been doing since?

Well, no one in the circus world
has seen hide nor hair of him.

Well, if he wasn't performing
on the stilts any longer,

why did he still have
the bruising on his feet?

Good question, sir.

George, I have a stop to make.

In the meantime,
I need you to pay a visit

to the Prussian social club.


Have you --

Not yet.

My men are searching the city,
and he will be found.

Dear God, where can he be?

I have no idea.

However, I did learn that Alwyn
was telling the truth.

But giants and guns...

Sounds far-fetched, I know.

But it is real.

I can't tell you any more.

I should have believed him.

Mrs. Jones --

Enid... believe me when
I tell you he will be found.

I trust there's been
some development, Inspector?

You could say that.


Hello, Meyers.

your nation is proud of you.

I will handle matters
from here on.

Actually, Mr. Meyers,
it's not quite that simple.

What are you talking about?

You captured
a treacherous assassin here.

You killed the scientist.

I did no such thing.
You are the liar.

Murdering liar.

No, you're the murdering liar.

No, you are the murdering liar!


Mr. Meyers, have a seat.

While it's clear both of you

seem to have trouble
with the truth,

neither of you is a killer,
at least in this instance.

What are you talking about?

The two of you have been
played off against each other.

What does this mean,
"played off"?

I believe the detective
is suggesting we've been used.

The Prussians don't have
a doomsday machine.

Of course we don't.

But you wanted to build one,
which is why

you were so interested
in Professor Dolomore.

- Naturally.
- This is ridiculous.

The Prussians have an automaton.
You saw the film yourselves.

We have no such thing, Terrence.

And neither do you, Mr. Meyers.

It's impossible.

We have it on impeccable authority
that he has one.

Do you?

Is that what Alwyn Jones saw
that morning?

A demonstration of your machine?

And it was spectacular.

Unfortunately for you,
it doesn't work.

What are you talking about?
I witnessed it myself.

What you saw was a mock-up,

a hollow shell
being piloted by a dwarf.

A what? A dwarf?
What dwarf?

The one we fished
out of the river.

I had nothing to do with that.

We know you didn't.
You were duped.

I was no such thing!

Your automaton
is a scientific impossibility.

The film you saw was created

to make you believe the Prussians had
such a machine.

Who would do such a thing?

Hammerton Industries.

Hammerton? Why?

So you would authorize
a virtually unlimited flow

of government money
into their coffers.

Are you suggesting that someone
would try to profiteer

from the threat of war?

It seems ridiculous, but yes.

And it wasn't by chance
that Mr. Bomgaarts' government

was made aware
of your automaton.

It wasn't?

If you investigate the company
building your automaton,

I suspect you'll discover
that it's owned

by none other
than Hammerton Industries.

Gentlemen, I need to confer
with my consulate.

As do I.

Auf Wiedersehen, Caspar.

Goodbye for now, Terrence.

Gentlemen, I believe a visit
to Mr. Hammerton is in order.


I'm gonna ask you one last time.

Does my war machine,
in fact, work?

Of course.


I went back over
Professor Dolomore's notes.

There could be no
analytical engine running it.

But you yourself
witnessed the demonstration!

Did I?

Professor Dolomore caught wind

of your plans
to swindle the government.

He intended to speak
with the prime minister.

- So you had him assassinated.
- That's ridiculous!

You made his murder look
like the work of the Prussians,

further fueling
Mr. Meyers' paranoia,

and thus ensuring
even greater funding.

You killed the dwarf
because he knew too much.

Now, what have you done
with the boy?

- What boy?
- The boy, Mr. Hammerton!

The boy who saw everything!
What have you done with him?

I do not -- I do not know
what you're talking about.

Let me try, Murdoch.

Sir, you claim that my automaton
does in fact work?


Well, then show us.

Of course.
I --

You have to understand,

Professor Dolomore
was the only one

with the proficiency
and knowledge --

No, no, no.

Right now.

Where is my automaton?!

I-I don't understand.
It should be here.

I believe he went this way.

- Sir!
- George.

What are you doing here?

Sir, there's been reports
of a --

a-a giant metal hooligan
on a rampage.

I thought you said
it didn't work, Murdoch.

It shouldn't.

Well, it bloody well does now!
Come on!

We'll stop this bloody thing.

Sir, I don't think
that'll be necessary.

Master Jones?


Are you all right?

I didn't mean to wreck
the giant.

What's happened?

I was coming to see you at the station,
but then I saw you.

I remembered you were down
by the river with the giant.

So I followed you here.

I see.

And how did you get inside
the automaton?

I snuck inside the building.

I know I'm not supposed to snoop,
but I did.

There were people coming,
so I hid in a room.

But they locked me in
by accident.

And he was in there.

And then you got inside.

I wanted to bring him to you

to prove
that I was telling the truth.

Only it took me quite a while
to make him work.

Well done, lad.
Let's get this mess cleared up.

That won't be necessary.

I will be taking
what is rightfully mine.

All of it.

Detective Murdoch,
I surrender myself to you.

Very well.

George, arrest this man.

Step aside, sir.

Actually, gentlemen,

your jurisdiction is
no longer recognized in this case.

Excuse me, Mr. Meyers.

If you have
any further questions,

address them to
the prime minister himself.

And as always, gentlemen,
it has been a pleasure.

You can't let them take me.
You can't!


- Murdoch, leave it.
- But --

- That's an order.
- Stop! This is wrong!

You can't --


I just heard
from the solicitor for the Crown.


our investigation is complete.

The incident on Front Street
was drunken unionists rioting.

- So Hammerton gets off?
- Mm.

Meyers has whisked him away
to some secret location.

To punish him
or to do his bidding?

Who knows?

If he builds
another doomsday weapon,

somebody else
will just match it.

Where will it end, Murdoch?

A good question, sir.

I heard there was an automaton.
How fantastic.

It was all a bit anticlimactic
in the end, I'm afraid.


Still, I'd love to hear
all about it.


I see this case has inspired you

to start reading
about steam men.

It's a gift for a friend.

I have somewhere
that I need to be.

I'm sure the inspector
can give you all of the details.

Of course.

Good evening.


Perhaps a wee nip of scotch
might be in order, Doctor.


- Mrs. Jones.
- Oh, Detective.

Good evening, Detective Murdoch.

I brought something for Alwyn.

Oh, how thoughtful.

Why am I crying?

You're relieved, I'm sure.

I am.


Detective Murdoch.

Please, call me William.


Much better.

I hope you like pot roast, William.

I do, very much.

Well, this is my home.

- After you.
- Oh, thank you.

Oh, oh.